Buffy stared at the dead demon lying on the floor, then at its blood on her
hands. The thing had made her delusional, made her crazy. Made her
homicidal. She looked up at her friends, Willow was moving towards her, as
was Xander. Tara was helping Dawn up from the floor. Buffy stared at
them, speechless. She had just tied them up and let a demon loose on them.
She had tried to kill them.
"I'm so sorry." She finally managed, wiping the blood on her sweater. She glanced over to see if Dawn was ok, she was. But there was a look in the teenager's eye, something Buffy had seen in her sister before. Anger.
And it was overwhelming.
Willow moved towards Buffy but the slayer backed away. Willow's expression moved into one of confusion. "Buffy, are you ok?"
"I'm f-fine, I." Buffy's head went into a muddle of thoughts. She had tried to kill her friends. Could they forgive her? Would they? Would Willow make up another antidote?
She only knew one thing at the moment. She needed to go. Her eyes avoiding her friends, Buffy turned and ran up the basement stairs, up into the house. Then she walked quickly to the door and left the house. She was in such a panic that she almost didn't hear her friends shouting her name from the basement.
* * * * * * *
The graveyard was silent and still. No vampires were awakening; none were patrolling for their next meal. She was alone. Somehow that was comforting.
Buffy sat staring at one of the graves, unable to pull her eyes away. That person could have risen from the grave and continued a life as a creature of the night. Or that person could be resting in peace, like the dead should do, unaware of what was going on above the. However, the slayer knew what they were doing though, who that person was.
It was her own grave she was staring at.
Obviously the deaths had slowed down in Sunnydale so they didn't need to replace her grave with another unfortunate person's body. There it was, a constant reminder that above ground wasn't her rightful place. She read the words over and over again.
'Loving Sister'. Dawn was as bad as a teenager could get. She had been stealing, even from Anya at the Magic Box. She had been skipping school, putting her whole future in jeopardy. Buffy had hoped that Dawn would one day be able to leave her care and lead her own life. One that didn't involved vampires, Hell Gods or a sister who has to slay them all. Loving sister? The social services had tried to take Dawn away, and Buffy had to resort to unnatural measures to ensure her sister's custody. If she hadn't, Dawn would be gone. Buffy was not the Loving Sister.
'Devoted friend'. Willow had been drowning in magic and dark arts and Buffy hadn't even noticed it. Tara had left her best friend and Buffy was too busy to give Willow any real attention or comfort. Devoted friend? She was lucky that the witch was still living in the same house as her. Xander and Anya? During the disastrous wedding ceremony, it hadn't even occurred to Buffy to find her friends. She stood up at the front and told jokes, hoping it would all blow over. Now Anya was missing and Xander was a wreck. But above all else, the slayer had just abused her power and tried to kill someone. Several. They were the people who had stood by her for over six years, whenever she was down they were always at her side; and she'd tried to kill them.
Buffy carried on staring at her grave, tears were beginning to appear in her eyes. Tara may have been right, saying that she hadn't come back wrong. But the witch had said it herself - she had come back different. She wasn't special; she didn't come back as she was. She had definitely left something in that grave, something that made her human. That was why she felt so bad, that was why Spike could hit her. She was no better than the usual things that rose up from cemeteries.
"You ok there love? Your head all cleared up?" Spike stood a few feet behind her, a cigarette in his hand and a bag of vampire essentials in the other. He threw the cigarette down and stamped it into the ground.
Buffy didn't answer him, she just let her head drop and brought a hand up to her eyes, wiping away the tears that were very obvious now. She let out a sob and the tears now flowed free, streaming down her face. She held her head in her hands and cried.
Spike's expression changed to one of worry. He dropped the bag, not caring about the fragile glasses of blood in there and sat down beside Buffy, trying to pry her hands away from her face. He succeeded and she finally looked at him, still sobbing. The vampire put his arm round her and held her close, kissing her lightly on the top of her head. The slayer didn't resist and she carried on crying into Spike's chest.
Spike rested his head on top of Buffy's. "Its alright love, shhh." He stood up and helped her up as well. "Come on, lets get you back to my crypt." He began walking, still with his arm around her. She had stopped crying now but she was too upset to argue. Or say anything for that matter.
* * * * * *
Buffy winced as the door of Spike's crypt squeaked open, everything was scaring her at the moment. He held the door open and she walked through it, her arms wrapped round herself. Other than being cold, she was feeling rather protective of herself. As she heard the door close, she wiped her eyes and looked around. This place was almost as familiar as her own home, she'd spent a lot of time here in the past few months. She took the liberty of sitting down on the chair in front of the TV and clasped her hands in her lap.
Spike walked over to her and sat on the stone coffin about six feet away from her, looking at her. There was an awkward moment until Buffy looked sadly up at him. He managed a sympathetic smile, although it was obvious he was trying to work out what had made her so upset. "So you gonna tell me what happened?"
Buffy broke their eye contact and resumed staring at the floor. "I can't go back. I can't go back there."
"Go back where?" Spike enquired, looking confused. "Did you quit the Doublemeat Palace? Can't say I'm bloody surprised, I told you that place would kill you."
Buffy remained stationary. "No. Its not that. I." she tailed off, not wanting to say the words. "I hurt them, I tied them up - I released the demon -I tried to kill."
She started crying again, leaning forward over her lap. Spike moved off the coffin towards her, understanding slightly. He placed himself on the TV table and put his hands over hers. She moved her eyes to meet his, still crying.
"I can't go back there Spike - I can't, I couldn't face - they'd hate me." Her words were barely articulate she was so upset.
Spike raised a hand to her face and stroked her cheek. "Its ok pet, its fine."
She stopped crying and looked round. He stood up and looked round the crypt for something to give her, he had a feeling that she wasn't going to like blood. He saw something under the TV, smiled and retrieved it, an un- opened packet of crisps. He dropped them on her lap.
"Clem must've left 'em behind last time he was here, lazy bugger. I'll get you some more stuff if you want, but they'll have to do for now. They're fresh I think."
Buffy almost managed a smile, ignoring the packet. "I'm not hungry."
"You tired?" Spike asked, almost playfully. "I got the bed fixed up after you and your soldier boy blew it to pieces. Ain't five star but it does the job."
Buffy looked up at him, picking up on what his real agenda was, what it had been since she broke off their relationship a few weeks ago. Spike read her look and stepped back, his hands up by his shoulders as if he was going to be shot. "Hey, no funny business I promise. I can tell when you ain't in the mood."
The slayer stood up, arms still wrapped round herself and walked to the back of the crypt where the stairway was. She crouched and place a foot on the top step, climbing down. She hesitated and glanced at Spike, who was watching her. She managed a small smile and then continued down.
"I'm so sorry." She finally managed, wiping the blood on her sweater. She glanced over to see if Dawn was ok, she was. But there was a look in the teenager's eye, something Buffy had seen in her sister before. Anger.
And it was overwhelming.
Willow moved towards Buffy but the slayer backed away. Willow's expression moved into one of confusion. "Buffy, are you ok?"
"I'm f-fine, I." Buffy's head went into a muddle of thoughts. She had tried to kill her friends. Could they forgive her? Would they? Would Willow make up another antidote?
She only knew one thing at the moment. She needed to go. Her eyes avoiding her friends, Buffy turned and ran up the basement stairs, up into the house. Then she walked quickly to the door and left the house. She was in such a panic that she almost didn't hear her friends shouting her name from the basement.
* * * * * * *
The graveyard was silent and still. No vampires were awakening; none were patrolling for their next meal. She was alone. Somehow that was comforting.
Buffy sat staring at one of the graves, unable to pull her eyes away. That person could have risen from the grave and continued a life as a creature of the night. Or that person could be resting in peace, like the dead should do, unaware of what was going on above the. However, the slayer knew what they were doing though, who that person was.
It was her own grave she was staring at.
Obviously the deaths had slowed down in Sunnydale so they didn't need to replace her grave with another unfortunate person's body. There it was, a constant reminder that above ground wasn't her rightful place. She read the words over and over again.
'Loving Sister'. Dawn was as bad as a teenager could get. She had been stealing, even from Anya at the Magic Box. She had been skipping school, putting her whole future in jeopardy. Buffy had hoped that Dawn would one day be able to leave her care and lead her own life. One that didn't involved vampires, Hell Gods or a sister who has to slay them all. Loving sister? The social services had tried to take Dawn away, and Buffy had to resort to unnatural measures to ensure her sister's custody. If she hadn't, Dawn would be gone. Buffy was not the Loving Sister.
'Devoted friend'. Willow had been drowning in magic and dark arts and Buffy hadn't even noticed it. Tara had left her best friend and Buffy was too busy to give Willow any real attention or comfort. Devoted friend? She was lucky that the witch was still living in the same house as her. Xander and Anya? During the disastrous wedding ceremony, it hadn't even occurred to Buffy to find her friends. She stood up at the front and told jokes, hoping it would all blow over. Now Anya was missing and Xander was a wreck. But above all else, the slayer had just abused her power and tried to kill someone. Several. They were the people who had stood by her for over six years, whenever she was down they were always at her side; and she'd tried to kill them.
Buffy carried on staring at her grave, tears were beginning to appear in her eyes. Tara may have been right, saying that she hadn't come back wrong. But the witch had said it herself - she had come back different. She wasn't special; she didn't come back as she was. She had definitely left something in that grave, something that made her human. That was why she felt so bad, that was why Spike could hit her. She was no better than the usual things that rose up from cemeteries.
"You ok there love? Your head all cleared up?" Spike stood a few feet behind her, a cigarette in his hand and a bag of vampire essentials in the other. He threw the cigarette down and stamped it into the ground.
Buffy didn't answer him, she just let her head drop and brought a hand up to her eyes, wiping away the tears that were very obvious now. She let out a sob and the tears now flowed free, streaming down her face. She held her head in her hands and cried.
Spike's expression changed to one of worry. He dropped the bag, not caring about the fragile glasses of blood in there and sat down beside Buffy, trying to pry her hands away from her face. He succeeded and she finally looked at him, still sobbing. The vampire put his arm round her and held her close, kissing her lightly on the top of her head. The slayer didn't resist and she carried on crying into Spike's chest.
Spike rested his head on top of Buffy's. "Its alright love, shhh." He stood up and helped her up as well. "Come on, lets get you back to my crypt." He began walking, still with his arm around her. She had stopped crying now but she was too upset to argue. Or say anything for that matter.
* * * * * *
Buffy winced as the door of Spike's crypt squeaked open, everything was scaring her at the moment. He held the door open and she walked through it, her arms wrapped round herself. Other than being cold, she was feeling rather protective of herself. As she heard the door close, she wiped her eyes and looked around. This place was almost as familiar as her own home, she'd spent a lot of time here in the past few months. She took the liberty of sitting down on the chair in front of the TV and clasped her hands in her lap.
Spike walked over to her and sat on the stone coffin about six feet away from her, looking at her. There was an awkward moment until Buffy looked sadly up at him. He managed a sympathetic smile, although it was obvious he was trying to work out what had made her so upset. "So you gonna tell me what happened?"
Buffy broke their eye contact and resumed staring at the floor. "I can't go back. I can't go back there."
"Go back where?" Spike enquired, looking confused. "Did you quit the Doublemeat Palace? Can't say I'm bloody surprised, I told you that place would kill you."
Buffy remained stationary. "No. Its not that. I." she tailed off, not wanting to say the words. "I hurt them, I tied them up - I released the demon -I tried to kill."
She started crying again, leaning forward over her lap. Spike moved off the coffin towards her, understanding slightly. He placed himself on the TV table and put his hands over hers. She moved her eyes to meet his, still crying.
"I can't go back there Spike - I can't, I couldn't face - they'd hate me." Her words were barely articulate she was so upset.
Spike raised a hand to her face and stroked her cheek. "Its ok pet, its fine."
She stopped crying and looked round. He stood up and looked round the crypt for something to give her, he had a feeling that she wasn't going to like blood. He saw something under the TV, smiled and retrieved it, an un- opened packet of crisps. He dropped them on her lap.
"Clem must've left 'em behind last time he was here, lazy bugger. I'll get you some more stuff if you want, but they'll have to do for now. They're fresh I think."
Buffy almost managed a smile, ignoring the packet. "I'm not hungry."
"You tired?" Spike asked, almost playfully. "I got the bed fixed up after you and your soldier boy blew it to pieces. Ain't five star but it does the job."
Buffy looked up at him, picking up on what his real agenda was, what it had been since she broke off their relationship a few weeks ago. Spike read her look and stepped back, his hands up by his shoulders as if he was going to be shot. "Hey, no funny business I promise. I can tell when you ain't in the mood."
The slayer stood up, arms still wrapped round herself and walked to the back of the crypt where the stairway was. She crouched and place a foot on the top step, climbing down. She hesitated and glanced at Spike, who was watching her. She managed a small smile and then continued down.