Title: Once a Slayer, Now an Immortal

Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or Highlander. I am merely borrowing them.

A/N: This story will take place after season seven of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer and after "Revelation 6:8" in season five of Highlander. Richie will not be appearing in this story; he is probably off traveling. Wesley will be on loan from a slightly AU season five of Angel for a few chapters here and there.

* Breaking *

"Buffy," murmured Adam, gently shaking his girlfriend awake.

"Adam," she whispered, looking up at him.

"Why are you sleeping in a cemetery?" he asked concernedly.

Buffy just shrugged and rose to her feet. She really didn't feel like answering questions right now. She had slept due to exhaustion but it hadn't been a peaceful sleep. Nightmares of the dead had haunted her.

"Buffy, why are you covered in blood?" asked Adam, taking in her appearance. "What happened last night? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," replied Buffy wearily, wanting the conversation to just end.

"No, you aren't fine. You're covered in blood," he persisted.

"I said I'm fine; just drop it," Buffy growled back. She strode away from him, heading towards her apartment. Adam had to jog to keep up with her and was surprised that such a short woman could walk so quickly.

Misinterpreting her distant behavior, Adam began to apologize for their fight the night before. "I am so sorry. I never should have said what I said. It was mean. I just wasn't thinking. What I meant was that you have a keen fashion sense and that I am envious of it. Please forgive me, Buffy. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Do you forgive me?"

"Sure," replied Buffy nonchalantly. Frankly, their fight was the last thing on her mind at the moment.

"You're still mad?" he asked insecurely.

"No," sighed Buffy, "I honestly don't care anymore."

"Why? What happened?" he asked, hoping she would finally let him in. Although they had been dating for two months, there were times when Buffy was still a stranger to the Immortal. Every time he tried to get answers about her past, she would artfully change the subject. He eventually just stopped asking, understanding that sometimes there are things that are just too painful to discuss. Just because he stopped asking though, it didn't mean that it had stopped bothering him. Buffy was a mystery to him and in his experience mysteries could be dangerous.

But Buffy never answered him; she just kept walking, faster and faster, until she was nearly jogging. Adam jogged alongside her, watching her and studying her. He noticed the dark bags under her eyes and how tired she looked. He noticed how disheveled her hair and clothes looked. Mostly, he noticed how sad and defeated she looked. She did not look like the usually strong woman he had come to admire. He hoped that once they reached her apartment, she would tell him what had brought about these changes.

When they reached her apartment, however, she went inside and slammed the door shut before he could follow. When he tried to open the door, he found that she had locked it. So he did the only thing he could and began pounding on her door, ferociously, knowing that if she didn't open the door soon, he would break it down. Although they had both told each other that they were only looking for a fun fling when they began dating, he had grown to really care for her.

Buffy heard him knocking but didn't care. She collapsed onto her bed, too drained to even get under the covers. She wrapped her arms around her head, trying to block out the noise Adam was making, but she couldn't. After about ten minutes, he stopped. Buffy didn't know why and she didn't care. She was so weary but she was afraid to sleep; if she slept, she would dream. Instead she just cried.

The bed practically vibrated with the force of her sobs. The pillow her face rested on was soon soaked through with tears. She stayed like that for hours, only getting up once to use the restroom. While she didn't care about the snot on her pillow or about the blood that was rubbing into her sheets from wounds that had long-since healed, she did care about peeing in bed. She wasn't five.

Hours after Adam had left, Buffy was still lying in bed. She wasn't crying anymore. She was too exhausted to cry. She was simply lying there, staring at the wall, trying to keep her mind blank. That was when she felt the buzz. A part of her didn't care if it was Travers or not. She realized that she was continually going back and forth between caring if she died and not caring, but she didn't know what to do about it. A part of her was just too tired to keep fighting such an un-winnable war but another part, a more feral and hidden part, valued survival more than anything else.

"Open up, Buffy," yelled Duncan, pounding on her door. Buffy was glad it wasn't Travers but she was not glad that it was Duncan. She did not want to deal with her teacher right now. The "boy scout," as Adam called him, would want to be the chivalrous knight and fight her battles for her and she was done letting others fight her battles. So she ignored him.

He kept at it for about fifteen minutes until he was told off by a neighbor, the same neighbor that had scared Adam away. Before walking away, he said clearly through the door, "I'll be back."

Hours later, Buffy still lay in her bed. Her stomach hurt from hunger and she could tell she was a little dehydrated from crying so much and not drinking anything. She didn't care. Moving hurt too much. She had long-since unplugged her phone. Adam and Duncan had kept calling her. At first she just ignored the phone but eventually the incessant ringing had gotten annoying so she yanked the cord out of the wall, probably with more force than was necessary.

All she wanted was silence. But that silence had been interrupted not long before by Adam knocking on her door again. Again she had ignored him. Deep down she knew that she should open the door and let him know that she was all right but she just couldn't work up the willpower to get out of bed. She had tried to yell for him to go away, but her voice hadn't cooperated and all that came out was a crackly whisper.

All in all, Buffy lay in her bed for a day and a half, not eating or drinking anything and only getting up a few times to use the restroom. What finally snapped her out of her funk was an unwelcome dream. She had been trying to keep her eyes open and keep from sleeping for hours to avoid the nightmares but eventually her body overruled her brain and her lids closed. Instead of dreaming about the people she had let down, however, she dreamt about someone she hadn't seen in a little more than five years.

"Hey kid," said the balance demon, with his strong Bronx accent. "Still in bed, huh?"

"Whistler?" she asked confused. She knew she was dreaming but she didn't know why she was dreaming about him.

"It's time to get up, kid. You've got things to do," he urged.

"I'm so tired," she whined back.

"I know," he said regretfully, "but you aren't done yet."

"I'll never be done," she accused.

"You're right," he said softly. "You should never have become an Immortal. It isn't fair, but that's life for ya."

"Maybe I hate life then," she retorted.

"Maybe," he said, chuckling softly. "I can't stay long, kid. I just wanted to tell you not to give up or cut yourself off and to remind you that you still have friends and people to rely on. So, don't give up or cut yourself off. You still have friends and people to rely on."

After laughing softly, she pleaded, "So, what should I do?" hoping that someone had an answer for her.

"For starters, get of bed, take a shower, and eat something," he joked. Sobering up, he continued, "Then: fight. Everyone used to say that you were the longest living slayer but we both know that isn't true. I mean, you did die—twice! You are, however, the longest surviving slayer and that is something to be proud of. So, do what you've always done. Fight and survive. Don't give up. Get through this."

When she woke up, she found herself filled with a new strength and resolve that had been hiding before and she got out of bed. Although she couldn't forgive Whistler for the part he had played in the Angelus and Acathla debacle, she knew that he had been there to help her, just like now. She took his advice and ate something and then showered. She had forgotten how much better you could feel simply by being clean. She washed off all of the dried blood that had been caked on her body for a day and a half and she washed the grease out of her blonde hair.

After getting out of the shower, Buffy put on clean and comfortable clothes but not pajamas. She knew that if she put on pajamas she would probably end up in bed again and she couldn't do that.

Taking a few deep breaths, Buffy plugged her phone back in and picked it up. She almost called Adam but didn't think she was ready yet. Instead she dialed another number that she knew by heart.

* TBC *

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