Title: Pedestal
Summary: Buffy reflects. Fun, fun, fun.
Disclaimer: If I owned Buffy, this story wouldnt exist, because she wouldnt be sleeping with #$@%! Spike. Alas, Joss owns her, and everyone else mentioned, and he gets to make the rules.
Notes: I'm not really happy with this, but a friend of mine threatened that she wouldnt beta for me anymore if I didnt post it, and - *sob* - I cant live without her. So...Techincally, this could be set pretty much whenever you decided it is, while reading it. It didnt occur to me until about the last paragraph that, in my head, this is what's going on in Buffy's head during the - ahem - interlude at The Bronze in 'Dead Things' Please, feel free to make up your own timeline for this. And feedback! Glorious feedback. Please?
Distribution: Want, Take, Have. Just Tell, first.
--
He told me I was his hero.
God, how do you respond to something like that? I mean, his hero. He, they, thought of me as a hero, I always knew that. But his personal, held up to the light hero? That's a lot to live up to.
It was an eye opener, when he told me that, to say the least. I waited, and I watched, and I realized -- it wasn't just him. It was Willow. It was Dawn. It was all of them. I'd been set up on a shelf, high above the rest of the world. The trusted me, completely, with not just their lives, but the lives of their families, the people they cared about. I was on a pedestal that no one -- not The Master, not Faith, not Glory - could topple.
I was happy. Completely oblivious to anyone's problems but my own half the time, but happy.
I'm not sure what actually killed that, the happiness, and me, in the process - Moms' death, or the actual ceasing to be. Either way, death was...nice. Peaceful. I liked it. I don't remember much about heaven, details or otherwise. I remember there weren't any harps. I don't get harps.
Getting yanked back to life, pulled from that peace, was, still is, indescribable. And I want to hate them for it, so much it hurts sometimes. But I cant. So I hate me, instead.
And Spike. I hate Spike. I hate what he does to me, what he makes me do to myself. And I hate that I cant seem to help it. And I hate that, when everything's stripped away, in the heat of the moment, I cant say that I don't like it.
I haven't been careful enough about hiding it, either. Dawn and Xander - they know. I don't think they know they know, not really, but I can see it when the first look at me me, in their eyes, right before conscious emotion kicks in. Anger. Hurt. A whole lot of disappointment. I hope they never figure it out.
I know they will.
It's a long way down from up here. My footing isn't so solid anymore. One of these days, they're going to find out what I've been doing, who I am. They're going to see me, and Spike, slowly feeding off each other's misery up here on my pedestal. One of these days, it's going to get too wobbly.
One of these days, I'm going to fall.
One of these days, they wont catch me.
--
Second Note: My God sayeth...
"There's a time and a place for everything, and I think it's called fanfic" -- Joss Whedon
Summary: Buffy reflects. Fun, fun, fun.
Disclaimer: If I owned Buffy, this story wouldnt exist, because she wouldnt be sleeping with #$@%! Spike. Alas, Joss owns her, and everyone else mentioned, and he gets to make the rules.
Notes: I'm not really happy with this, but a friend of mine threatened that she wouldnt beta for me anymore if I didnt post it, and - *sob* - I cant live without her. So...Techincally, this could be set pretty much whenever you decided it is, while reading it. It didnt occur to me until about the last paragraph that, in my head, this is what's going on in Buffy's head during the - ahem - interlude at The Bronze in 'Dead Things' Please, feel free to make up your own timeline for this. And feedback! Glorious feedback. Please?
Distribution: Want, Take, Have. Just Tell, first.
--
He told me I was his hero.
God, how do you respond to something like that? I mean, his hero. He, they, thought of me as a hero, I always knew that. But his personal, held up to the light hero? That's a lot to live up to.
It was an eye opener, when he told me that, to say the least. I waited, and I watched, and I realized -- it wasn't just him. It was Willow. It was Dawn. It was all of them. I'd been set up on a shelf, high above the rest of the world. The trusted me, completely, with not just their lives, but the lives of their families, the people they cared about. I was on a pedestal that no one -- not The Master, not Faith, not Glory - could topple.
I was happy. Completely oblivious to anyone's problems but my own half the time, but happy.
I'm not sure what actually killed that, the happiness, and me, in the process - Moms' death, or the actual ceasing to be. Either way, death was...nice. Peaceful. I liked it. I don't remember much about heaven, details or otherwise. I remember there weren't any harps. I don't get harps.
Getting yanked back to life, pulled from that peace, was, still is, indescribable. And I want to hate them for it, so much it hurts sometimes. But I cant. So I hate me, instead.
And Spike. I hate Spike. I hate what he does to me, what he makes me do to myself. And I hate that I cant seem to help it. And I hate that, when everything's stripped away, in the heat of the moment, I cant say that I don't like it.
I haven't been careful enough about hiding it, either. Dawn and Xander - they know. I don't think they know they know, not really, but I can see it when the first look at me me, in their eyes, right before conscious emotion kicks in. Anger. Hurt. A whole lot of disappointment. I hope they never figure it out.
I know they will.
It's a long way down from up here. My footing isn't so solid anymore. One of these days, they're going to find out what I've been doing, who I am. They're going to see me, and Spike, slowly feeding off each other's misery up here on my pedestal. One of these days, it's going to get too wobbly.
One of these days, I'm going to fall.
One of these days, they wont catch me.
--
Second Note: My God sayeth...
"There's a time and a place for everything, and I think it's called fanfic" -- Joss Whedon