Disclaimer: I own nothing…
Thanks to my wonderful beta Isabelle and to "min lilla ängel" for keeping my spirits up.
All over the world there are places sacred to time itself. Places where great things, both good and bad, have happened. Places time has chosen to preserve its own infinity.
Most of the time you won't even know they're there, other times it drags you in. Swallows you up until all it becomes clear in you're head. You see…you laugh…you weep. You become part of time's remembrance, you bare witness. You are chosen…
Its easy to either love or hate someone. To stray in-between is as hard as it is divine. Both feelings so like one another they are almost the same. It's the same in choosing to walk a light path or a dark. Both give rewards, both crave sacrifices.
This evening, she wasn't alone in the small flat; she usually wasn't, although everyone thought she was. The ones she thought of as friends too considerate, loving her too much to go against her wishes and visit. She had made it clear from the start that they weren't welcome, that she needed this place to be hers and exclusively hers. A safe haven from all the things her weekdays consisted of; mostly helping "the chosen ones" descendants to battle the evil. The evil lurking creatures that most didn't even know existed. The "first", her friends of so many years ago weren't around anymore. But being who she was, she couldn't just turn her back on those who needed her help. She never could.
The small flat was the only place she allowed herself to forget. Here she could ignore what she knew and at least pretend to be "normal". Or so she told them.
It hadn't begun all pretty, fair and grand like in the stories. Not with mutual attraction and heated glances, not with love at first sight. It hadn't been sordid, dirty or fit foreplay in the shadows. There had been nothing.
In the beginning they didn't even see each other, not really. More like two strangers passing in the street - they notice each other but they don't really see
It changed gradually, slowly over the years.
They had begun to look, both for different reasons; he out of boredom and she out of desperation. They didn't like what they found but forced themselves to keep watching, if only just to quell the curiosity, an almost morbid fascination with something so unlike what they themselves where. They saw little things, little snippets of grey in all the light and dark, things that they actually found interesting.
From there it grew.
From nothing to despise, to love, to hate…to grey. They became one whole of sorts, suddenly fit for heated glances and shadow play.
Had the others known the truth of whom she allowed to come to the apartment, which actually lived there most of the time, they would have wondered if she had finally lost her mind. They would, of course, not understand, wouldn't even try. They both knew this and accepted. The others weren't welcome anyway. The world the two had built was too complicated, too unstable to function had the others been involved.
This evening however was different. Their world crumbling in flames around them, all by their own making.
By her making...
One can only take so much, feel so much before having to rest. And she needed to rest; the goddess knew she needed to rest… The creature standing rigid by the window was the reason, good or bad, it didn't matter. He was her reason, just like she was his. It had to be like that, there was no other way. He was one of the evils she sometimes wanted to forget. True, he wasn't exactly like the others…in fact…he couldn't be more far from it. But no matter what he was deep down, the surrounding layers were evil and in every square inch of what she fought against.
Light and dark, good and evil, love and hate, life and death. All opposites not able to exist without its counterpart. To give all in favour of one is to deceive oneself. We aren't cut out for extremes; still the majority seems to believe so. They believe that purity lies in one or the other when in truth it lies in balancing the two.
Someone said there is no good without evil, no love without hate…that someone was right.
He forced himself to keep looking out thorough the window. The question hanging in the air between them. Most of all he wanted to turn around walk over to the bed she was sitting on and slap her face.
Did you bring it?
He wanted to shake her until she forgot that damned question.
Did you bring it?
Hit her over and over again until all she could feel was pain, the same physical pain he felt.
Did you bring it?
Hold her close, pull her body into his and end both their suffering….make them both forget about tomorrow and all the bloody endless days after that.
Did you bring it?
Shag her senseless like so many times before. Make her…no force her to forget that question…make her forget everything.
Did you bring it?
He had. A small vial of clear liquid resting in one of his pockets, in appearance it was nothing really, but the contents… He mentally cringed. It would be painful; he had made sure of that. Battling himself when he acquired the poison. She deserved pain! He had however also made sure that it was brief and loathed himself for it. Hated himself, as always, for that damned weakness he didn't seem to be able to shake. He fought against that weakness and had all of his existence and now finally it seemed that he had but one left. It was the worst one, the one that made him feel the lingering humanity. It was her. When she was gone he would finally be free.
Lies.
Always lies.
We have a tendency to lie to ourselves – a survival mechanism of some sort. We believe ourselves simpler than we really are. The trouble with doing this, fooling ourselves, is that we know we do it. Maybe we choose not to recognise it, but it's true.
No matter how skilled a liar we are also cursed with the knowledge of how a liar works. One can never deceive ones self in the end and that truth hurts.
Not turning he held the vial out for her to take. He briefly closed his eyes as her warm fingers brushed his a moment later. He kept his hand closed a few seconds longer then allowed her to take it.
We make choices in our life. Some made in the blink of an eye, others pondered over for days, months, even years. Some are from our own making and some are necessary. We know that they are wrong but make them nonetheless because not making them is impossible. Not making them would mean loosing oneself.
Everyday we make these choices, great and small, but we still stand dazed when faced with the results. How can we be? We make them with open eyes; we see them coming far ahead and still manage to stager under their weight.
The greatest choices, the ones that will change everything, are not always hard to make but in return hard to live with. We hope everything will turn out ok, knowing they can't. Those choices are the ones to treasure. You will regret them but keep your head high while struggling. There is no other option. They are necessary.
She looked down at the bottle in her grasp. So small, so insignificant to look at…yet containing relief. Back on the bed she pulled the cork out, and then hesitated. Her gaze moving to him, as if feeling it he turned and their eyes locked.
Sadness, forgiveness, love, despise…
Reaching her arm out, she beckoned him to her, their fingers locking. As she settled down he sat beside her, turned away. A tiny almost giddy smile caressed her lips as she downed the substance, she gasped slightly as it burned through her body. She closed her eyes biting down on a whimper of pain, and then it stopped. As quickly as it had come over her it disappeared leaving her drowsy, her mind sluggish. Relaxing she embraced the calm, her fingers twitching slightly against his.
Mercy. It's a weakness to some, a good trait to others. We are all capable of it, all of us down to the lowest creature. Consider though – that all your mercy and all your good intentions in the end boil downs to one thing. It is an entirely selfish act. Isn't that sad?
"Spike…" her voice was so soft he almost missed it. In the spoken word, his name laid everything she felt for him. It rippled of nuances, so much in just that word. She made his name contain it all, everything she had never said, everything she had said, everything she felt for him and it made him smile against his will. Hesitating only a second, the smile fading, he spoke.
"Willow…" and just like hers the word contained it all. Not even needing to look he knew she smiled. There was nothing left to do.
And so he sat by her side as her heartbeat slowed, as her breathing first grew heavy, then disturbingly light before coming to a halt. His fingers remained intertwined with hers, his body turned from her.
Long after he sat silently by her side on the bed, afraid of turning and seeing what he had done. So afraid to let it in, he stayed seated even as the sun rose outside the window. Rose over the town in colours of gold and purple. He watched it rise whit unseeing eyes, a small frown creeping over his features as the rays touched him, burned him, purified him of all his sins, of his darkness, of his fears…of his damned weakness.
To live or die, to give up or to fight; turn it which way you want. Life isn't always the right choice, not when faced with a life of certain misery. Pain so great you know that in the end you will die inside. Sometimes death is preferable to being a living dead. Sometimes…
Sarah looked around her newly acquired apartment with a delighted smile. She had moved in a week before and after a lot of hard work all the furniture where finally in place. Sipping her coffee she felt pleased with herself. Her first flat! Sure it was small, but it was hers!
Her brows suddenly furrowed as a feeling of immense sorrow enveloped her. It came out of nowhere and was quickly followed by a stab to her heart. She didn't even notice the cup slipping from her fingers as the sound of voices reached her ears and feelings, not her own, forced their way into her body and mind.
The sound of strangled sobs came first.
"Please…It's the only way…"
"Stop it! I can't…you have no right to ask me you selfish bint!"
A warm fuzzy feeling and the smell of newly baked cookies.
"You'll burn them!"
"This from the man who's never cooked in his entire un-life?"
"Hey now! I never cooked in my life neither..."
A raised male voice and a wave of helplessness and anger.
"They're your bloody friends!"
Pain, pain…Pain…"I can't do this anymore..."
"For me? Please…try for me?"
A deep chuckle and the sound of a door slamming.
"Hello lover…"
Green eyes sparkling with annoyance.
"You bit me! How the hell am I going to hide this! It's the size of a Buick!"
A soft feminine giggle coupled with a tingle of warmth in her lower regions.
"I have to get dressed…"
"Sod the slayer luv. Let's stay in bed."
Hate, burning hate.
"Go to hell you narcissistic fuckwitt!"
"Like wise! Why am I even with you!"
A soft touch trailing over her nipples…then ecstasy.
"I hate you damn it!" a soft needy moan. "Goddess yesssss…."
"I love you too Red…" laughter in the voice. "Forever, till death do us part and all that rot."
A breathy laughter.
"Is there any other way with you?"
The room changed before Sarah's eyes and for a second, just for a second she saw a lithe middle-aged female sprawled on a bed. The woman's somewhat wrinkled face startlingly pale, her eyes closed and a small smile on her blue tinged lips, her reddish-brown hair spilling loose over the pillow. A hazy grey pile of dust rested at her hip, the ashes steadily tumbling over the edge and slowly fluttering to the floor as the soft rays of the morning sun bathed the scene in an almost eerie glow.
There was silence… and Sarah cried.
All over the world there are places sacred to time itself. Places where great things, both good and bad, have happened. Places time has chosen to preserve its own infinity.
Most of the time you won't even know they're there, other times it drags you in. Swallows you up until all it becomes clear in you're head. You see…you laugh…you weep. You become part of times remembrance, you bare witness. You are chosen…The end.