Based on Season 5 way before Buffy jumps and Dawn gets captured. Rated PG-13 for suicidal themes and outcome. And the song in this fic is Sweet Surrender by Sarah McLachlan. Beautiful song. Beautiful woman.
It doesn't mean much. It doesn't mean anything at all. The life I've left behind me is a cold room. I've crossed the last line from where I can't return. Where every step I took in faith betrayed me and led me from my home.
She read Medea once in an English class, which never really happened, and loved it. She remembered the quote, "Death was the only water that could wash away the dirt." And it stuck with her.
And sweet, sweet surrender is all I have to give.
She didn't know why the monks put that certain memory in her brain, hell she didn't know why they put any memory in her brain to recall later in life and not know as fake, but it was rather important to her. It made her think how sometimes things can't just be forgiven or forgotten or helped or fixed. Sometimes, you just had to give up and call it quits.
You take me in-no questions asked. You strip away the ugliness that surrounds me. Are you and angel? Am I already that gone? I only hope that I won't disappoint you when I'm down here on my knees.
Everyone she knew was against this type of death, not that she asked everyone personally. But she had an idea that the slayer and her lackies would find suicide quite the escape route that was foolish and stupid. But she thought that someone who committed suicide was strong and brave. Not anyone could just take their life. There was a special type of people really.
People like her.
And sweet, sweet surrender is all I have to give.
It's not that she could talk about it to anyone really. But who would want to hear that the newly-formed-key was going to take her life? Not anyone she knew, unless it was Jamie Patterson, her evil rival at school.
Sweet, sweet surrender is all I have to give.
But you really couldn't call it suicide, not really. She was just saving everyone the trouble. Someone had to die when the stars aligned. Nothing would change that fact. Glory was a god, for fucksakes. If Buffy thought she could handle herself, well, she was wrong. Dawn had some early memories about Glory, when she was still in green energy form, and remembered how powerful she was. And just knowing that she remembered things when she was just energy made her feel broken. As if things weren't meant to be this way.
And I don't understand by the touch of your hand. I would be the one to fall.
She really didn't think things were suppose to be this way. She was born to die, but she was just doing it faster then the plan called for.
I miss the little things. Oh I miss everything.
The blades to her wrist didn't hurt as bad as she thought. It actually felt good to get rid of the human exterior that she carried around. Blood gushed out of her open wounds and pooled onto the floor. And as everything went dark, she felt her green energy float out of her body and disperse throughout the air, leaving her cold dead body lying back on the floor.
It doesn't mean much. It doesn't mean anything at all. The life I left behind me is a cold room.