I don't own the characters. I wish I did, but I don't.
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I reach out to touch her gently as she sleeps. She smiles a little, but doesn't wake. She looks so young and fragile like this, it's hard to believe she's the Slayer. In reality, she's little more than a child, trying to cope without her mother.
It's strange to see her like this, though - soft and vulnerable. Usually, there's a hard edge to her, saying she can cope with anything. She loses that when she sleeps. The barriers come down, and she's a child again, needing comfort and reassurance. She'll deny it as soon as she's awake, of course. Kick me, hit me, punch me, probably. It's her way of dealing with it. But I don't think it really makes her feel any better. Not truly. Certainly not in the long-term. And you always hurt the ones you love.
She keeps coming back, though. I can see it in her eyes - an unspoken need that she can't face up to. She wants to believe it's just about sex. It isn't, though, is it? If it was, she could be with any guy, now. But she keeps coming back to me. I don't pretend to understand it. I just accept it. She knows that I love her, that I'll do whatever she asks. It seems a simple enough solution.
I wish I could be like this with her when she's awake, though - soft and tender. Seems strange, coming from a vampire, but I don't like the violence. She seems to thrive on it, but - well, she deserves something better. It almost seems as though she's trying to degrade herself. But I don't want that for her. I love her. I want to treat her like a princess, worship at her shrine. Dru was right, I have gone soft. Love's bitch - again. But she won't let me do that. I'd love to take her out - maybe go for a walk on the beach, under the stars; or go to see a film at the cinema. Maybe have a meal in one of the posh restaurants in town - I'd pay, of course, hold her chair for her, serve her wine, be attentive to her every need.
It's not going to happen, though, is it? Not because she doesn't love me; she does, she just can't admit it. That's the craziest thing. I can see it in her eyes, but it's so mixed up with pain that it's easy to miss. Pain and fear. What's she afraid of? I don't want to hurt her. I want to wrap my arms around her and keep her safe, fight her battles alongside her, hold her when she cries. I know she cries at night, when she thinks no one can hear her, Will told me so. I wish she'd cry on my shoulder and let me comfort her - let me in, let me help her. I'd fight the world to protect her. Surely she knows that?
Well, yes, she knows. It's not that that worries her, though, is it? Not even the fact that I'm a soulless monster - I mean, she entrusted her little sister to me, so logically, it can't really be that. I can only guess, but she's probably afraid I'll leave if we get into any kind of proper relationship, if she admits she actually feels something for me. Looking at her life, I'm not really surprised. I mean, her dad walked out when she was only a few years old, didn't he? Must've been hard, specially at that age. Don't suppose she understood why it happened. You don't, do you? Then Angel leaving - she understood, all right, but she didn't accept it. And hell, how she loved him! And Riley left - and now Giles, the man who's been a father to her for years, he goes and leaves her, too. And surely this is the time when she needs him most?
You can't help feeling sorry for the kid. Well, I can't, anyway. Just think what love and life have thrown at her - a hellish mess that she just can't seem to sort out. She thought she'd escaped it, got to heaven she told me. Then her interfering friends had to drag her out of there because they felt bad about it. Have they no idea? If either Dawn or I had known, we'd have stopped it right away. Okay, it hurt when she died. Me and the Nibblet. God, how long we spent, curled up on Buffy's bed, crying. Every night. Every single bloody night for weeks. It hurt so much, I thought I was dying all over again. But it was wrong to bring her back. I could have told them it wasn't what she wanted. She knew what she was doing when she sacrificed herself. I almost wonder if she'd planned it - the way she'd said we weren't all going to make it, and that she was counting on me to protect Dawn. I've often wondered since if she was trying to tell me that, but never dared ask. I don't think she expected to survive. They should have left her where she was - in peace. She'd found happiness - and now what? Back to her hellish mess again. Thanks a lot, mates.
I want to make it better for her, but I can't give her what she wants - her mother, alive and well. Her father, reunited with her mother. Her little sister, running in with her teddy-bear because the storm frightened her. I can't give her back her lost childhood, I can't make it all happy families again, no one can. I wish I could. God knows, I'd give her that if I could. I'd give her the world if I could. If she'd let me. But all she wants is sex. She won't even let me make love to her. So scared, so scared that I'll run away and leave her, like all the rest. I won't leave you, my Buffy, my love, I won't run away! Trust me, love me, and I'll stay with you for ever.
Look! She's moved a little. She'll be waking up soon, and all this dreaming will be over. I often dream that she'll wake up and smile at me, hold out her arms to me, want to stay with me. But it never happens. Always the kicks, the hard words. It doesn't matter. In some crazy, sick, twisted way this helps her. If only she'd face up to reality, it could help her more - I could help her more. But she doesn't. She runs away from it, denies the love. But it doesn't matter, I love her just the same.
She wakes up, screams at me, hits me, leaves. Not a tender word, or a sign of affection. No sense of gratitude that I've given up everything to be with her, changed all my plans. Not a word of thanks for taking the pain away for a while, for being there for her when she needs me.
But it doesn't matter.
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I reach out to touch her gently as she sleeps. She smiles a little, but doesn't wake. She looks so young and fragile like this, it's hard to believe she's the Slayer. In reality, she's little more than a child, trying to cope without her mother.
It's strange to see her like this, though - soft and vulnerable. Usually, there's a hard edge to her, saying she can cope with anything. She loses that when she sleeps. The barriers come down, and she's a child again, needing comfort and reassurance. She'll deny it as soon as she's awake, of course. Kick me, hit me, punch me, probably. It's her way of dealing with it. But I don't think it really makes her feel any better. Not truly. Certainly not in the long-term. And you always hurt the ones you love.
She keeps coming back, though. I can see it in her eyes - an unspoken need that she can't face up to. She wants to believe it's just about sex. It isn't, though, is it? If it was, she could be with any guy, now. But she keeps coming back to me. I don't pretend to understand it. I just accept it. She knows that I love her, that I'll do whatever she asks. It seems a simple enough solution.
I wish I could be like this with her when she's awake, though - soft and tender. Seems strange, coming from a vampire, but I don't like the violence. She seems to thrive on it, but - well, she deserves something better. It almost seems as though she's trying to degrade herself. But I don't want that for her. I love her. I want to treat her like a princess, worship at her shrine. Dru was right, I have gone soft. Love's bitch - again. But she won't let me do that. I'd love to take her out - maybe go for a walk on the beach, under the stars; or go to see a film at the cinema. Maybe have a meal in one of the posh restaurants in town - I'd pay, of course, hold her chair for her, serve her wine, be attentive to her every need.
It's not going to happen, though, is it? Not because she doesn't love me; she does, she just can't admit it. That's the craziest thing. I can see it in her eyes, but it's so mixed up with pain that it's easy to miss. Pain and fear. What's she afraid of? I don't want to hurt her. I want to wrap my arms around her and keep her safe, fight her battles alongside her, hold her when she cries. I know she cries at night, when she thinks no one can hear her, Will told me so. I wish she'd cry on my shoulder and let me comfort her - let me in, let me help her. I'd fight the world to protect her. Surely she knows that?
Well, yes, she knows. It's not that that worries her, though, is it? Not even the fact that I'm a soulless monster - I mean, she entrusted her little sister to me, so logically, it can't really be that. I can only guess, but she's probably afraid I'll leave if we get into any kind of proper relationship, if she admits she actually feels something for me. Looking at her life, I'm not really surprised. I mean, her dad walked out when she was only a few years old, didn't he? Must've been hard, specially at that age. Don't suppose she understood why it happened. You don't, do you? Then Angel leaving - she understood, all right, but she didn't accept it. And hell, how she loved him! And Riley left - and now Giles, the man who's been a father to her for years, he goes and leaves her, too. And surely this is the time when she needs him most?
You can't help feeling sorry for the kid. Well, I can't, anyway. Just think what love and life have thrown at her - a hellish mess that she just can't seem to sort out. She thought she'd escaped it, got to heaven she told me. Then her interfering friends had to drag her out of there because they felt bad about it. Have they no idea? If either Dawn or I had known, we'd have stopped it right away. Okay, it hurt when she died. Me and the Nibblet. God, how long we spent, curled up on Buffy's bed, crying. Every night. Every single bloody night for weeks. It hurt so much, I thought I was dying all over again. But it was wrong to bring her back. I could have told them it wasn't what she wanted. She knew what she was doing when she sacrificed herself. I almost wonder if she'd planned it - the way she'd said we weren't all going to make it, and that she was counting on me to protect Dawn. I've often wondered since if she was trying to tell me that, but never dared ask. I don't think she expected to survive. They should have left her where she was - in peace. She'd found happiness - and now what? Back to her hellish mess again. Thanks a lot, mates.
I want to make it better for her, but I can't give her what she wants - her mother, alive and well. Her father, reunited with her mother. Her little sister, running in with her teddy-bear because the storm frightened her. I can't give her back her lost childhood, I can't make it all happy families again, no one can. I wish I could. God knows, I'd give her that if I could. I'd give her the world if I could. If she'd let me. But all she wants is sex. She won't even let me make love to her. So scared, so scared that I'll run away and leave her, like all the rest. I won't leave you, my Buffy, my love, I won't run away! Trust me, love me, and I'll stay with you for ever.
Look! She's moved a little. She'll be waking up soon, and all this dreaming will be over. I often dream that she'll wake up and smile at me, hold out her arms to me, want to stay with me. But it never happens. Always the kicks, the hard words. It doesn't matter. In some crazy, sick, twisted way this helps her. If only she'd face up to reality, it could help her more - I could help her more. But she doesn't. She runs away from it, denies the love. But it doesn't matter, I love her just the same.
She wakes up, screams at me, hits me, leaves. Not a tender word, or a sign of affection. No sense of gratitude that I've given up everything to be with her, changed all my plans. Not a word of thanks for taking the pain away for a while, for being there for her when she needs me.
But it doesn't matter.