Her brain was a beehive of emotions. They were all whizzing around her head so fast that the only ones she could grasp onto were, as she told Giles, that was not good, but at least the trees still looked pretty. Somewhere in the back of her mind she let herself muse that there was not enough prettiness in Sunnydale and that this was a shame, but she was far too tired to figure out what she should do about it.
It had been a long day, long being the understatement of the century. It didn't matter how many times she saved the world, it never got easier. At least she had the Scooby Gang though, which was more than any other slayer could say.
Absent-mindedly, she traced the edges of the graduation scroll her ex-watcher had given her just moments before. It was strange how she was finding it hard to recall a moment when she had last been quite so touched, and all over a tiny scrap of paper. It had made her feel better though. It had given her a distraction from the news Xander had just given her that Angel was gone. She knew she should be sad, would eventually be sad, but not right now. That would come later, when she had the strength to grieve for him with the amount of effort he deserved. This moment probably would not come for a few days yet. If it arrived any sooner it may tip her over the edge.
Just by chance, she happened to glance up and saw the one silhouette she knew better than her own. In truth she had probably sensed his closeness without even realising it. He stepped into the light of the fire engine and the smoke lit up his white face against the dark night as he stood no more than two hundred yards away. There were so many things she wanted to tell him; so, so many and yet, he was too out of reach and her tongue would not let her form the words.
He would not come to speak to her or hug her goodbye. They both knew that if he did he would never leave which was not for the best. Eventually, they would destroy each other be it through guilt, longing, or the differences between them that would never fade. Instead, she gave him just a look; one look that said everything she needed to say with her eyes. It took no effort. It said all the apologies, love, understanding and goodbyes her mouth would never let her say. His usually solemn expression twitched too into something more. His eyes filled with a longing she had never seen before, not even when he needed blood. She knew this should kill her from the inside out, but she ignored it determined not to look away. She just continued to give him her loo. She knew she only had a few moments left and she needed to make him understand.
He turned on his heel and walked away into the shadows. She did not move or cry. Instead she held the same expression, just in case he looked back, so she could prove to him the way she felt hadn't changed because he was leaving. She knew they would fade in the end, but she doubted they would. He had been her fist in so many ways and that meant far more than her brain could currently comprehend.
For a few moments she just stood there until she was satisfied he would not return. She wondered and found her friends huddled together on a bench feeling guilty there was no more they could do to help he injured, even though they had done so much already. When Willow asked her how she was, all she knew was that she was tired and wanted to dream about a world far away from the one she had just rescued. This was not a lie. Not for now.
As they all began to make their way home, Oz pointed out that in Sunnydale, finishing High school alive was an achievement. At that moment, she truly understood how fond she was of Oz. He could break tension without trying in a calming yet serious way. Today, she loved him for that, more than any girl should love her best friend's boy. She loved them all. Without any of them the world would be doomed and would have been years ago. She was the Slayer but they were all heroes, every single one of them.
At the edge of her mind, she worked out that the werewolf was right. They had survived. In the few days to come, that would be enough and she would be happy. Then, fully rested, she would start to learn to live again.