Disclaimer: I only own the idea...nothing more, nothing less.
A/N: I was watching the season five season finale while doing my homework, and this one shot popped into my head. Do you think the teachers will believe, "I didn't do my homework because my muse wouldn't let me!"? Hehehe…
She could feel Dawn's tears dampening the cashmere sweater that clung to her form as she encased her precious sister in one last hug.
"Be brave. Live." She paused, forcing back tears of her own and swallowing the lump in her throat. "For me."
Placing a tender kiss to Dawn's forehead, the slayer walked towards the edge of the platform, all the while, shielding her eyes from the fluorescent light below her. A sigh escaped her lips as she saw the destruction the portal had already caused. A nearby building had been transformed into a demon refuge, more demons were surfacing from the large cracks forming in the Sunnydale streets below, and an ominous dragon flew overhead. She couldn't leave her town this way- and there was no way heaven nor hell would make her sacrifice her sister.
Death was her gift.
She'd finally understood what that meant. She was to protect the world even in her last breath. And so she would.
Whispering a final goodbye to the beloved town she had so passionately protected over the past five years, Buffy Summers-- vampire slayer, class protector, extraordinary woman—jumped to her death.
Death is a person's destiny, just as being the slayer was the beginning of hers. Some say your last moments on earth decide the outcome of where you go in the afterlife. Buffy had never gone to church; she wasn't even sure if she believed in a god. She did, however save the world every year. Every month. Every day.
Buffy wasn't greeted by a red man with horns and a tail or an angel standing at the pearly gates; she was engulfed in pure light. It felt almost warm, like how the sun feels on a hot spring day when you sprawl across the grass. This couldn't be hell.
Was she in heaven?
Almost instantly, Buffy reached above her head and glanced over her shoulder. No halo. No wings either. There were no angels playing golden harps or singing in a heavenly chorus.
But she was warm, and she finally felt at peace.
No beautiful angels, billowing clouds, or glimmering harps. Simply warmth and Buffy. A content sigh broke through the silence, and she closed her eyes, only to be drawn into a comforting hug. Her eyes fluttered open and a gasp escaped her own throat, eyes brimming with tears. Her voice felt small, and she was at loss of all words but one.
"Mommy?"