When the time comes....
A/N: usual disclaimers blah blah blah...
27 yrs of age, Buffy summers was the oldest living Slayer in history. She was a fearsome adversary, her skill and determination making her known to demons across the globe. The few real enemies she had now kept a respectul - or fearful - distance from the Hellmouth.
She'd faced so many dangers. When angel turned for the second time she hadn't thought twice about decapitating him with a meat cleaver.
Demon came in hordes to sunnydale but she kept them back.
She stopped the Harvest.
She stopped the Master from walking the earth.
She survived Slayfest '98 and the Ascension.
Buffy made it to college in one piece and still managed to maintain her firm grip on the leash of Hellmouth.
No-one knew Sunnydale quite like she did.
She'd seen Slayers come and go after the Master drowned her. Kendra, Faith, all of them so strong and full of life.
This woman had survived the usual torments of teenage life and the plagues of the demon world all rolled into one.
Her heart had been broken more than once.
She'd seen her friends taken down by demons and her family taken down by disease.
Xander and anya were killed when angelus threw a petrol bomb into xander's flat to flush them out. Willow and Anya were killed when a spell got out of hand. Giles died from a heartattack and Joyce froma brain tumour. Dawn wasn't even her sister and her first true love was a vampire.
Never-the-less, Buffy Summers was strong. She took on whatever you could throw at her, and gave it back just as good.
Counting the years, there was so much time yet so little of it to spare.
Counting the seconds, the moments, the heartbeats.
The constant bleep from the heart monitor sounded the alarm - the image on the black screen just a straight green line.
The bleeping stopped. The plug had been pulled.
The Slayer's body lay motionless on the hospital bed - peaceful s if in sleep. All colour drained from her face, a wild contrast to the masses of cuts and bruises across her face and arms.
spike leant against the wall, plug in hand, gazing down at her.
Of all the causes of death available to a Slayer, it had to end like this.
He looked out of the window to his car. The hood dented, the headlights smashed. Blood splattered across the winscreen where her head had hit the window.
He watched silently as a couple of nurses bustled in, taking the body away on a trolley. She was nothing to them. Just another fatality - of which Sunnydale had so many. The secrets of her life as the Slayer died as she did.
Smiling faintly, he made his way back to the car and wiped the blood from the window with his sleeve. Stepping in behind the wheel, he sighed and wondered what the next Slayer would be like. He began to drive back to his flat, but had to stop and laugh as he saw a lone vampire with his lunch. The girl would be dead in a few moments, no-one here to save her - and like hell he would.
A/N: usual disclaimers blah blah blah...
27 yrs of age, Buffy summers was the oldest living Slayer in history. She was a fearsome adversary, her skill and determination making her known to demons across the globe. The few real enemies she had now kept a respectul - or fearful - distance from the Hellmouth.
She'd faced so many dangers. When angel turned for the second time she hadn't thought twice about decapitating him with a meat cleaver.
Demon came in hordes to sunnydale but she kept them back.
She stopped the Harvest.
She stopped the Master from walking the earth.
She survived Slayfest '98 and the Ascension.
Buffy made it to college in one piece and still managed to maintain her firm grip on the leash of Hellmouth.
No-one knew Sunnydale quite like she did.
She'd seen Slayers come and go after the Master drowned her. Kendra, Faith, all of them so strong and full of life.
This woman had survived the usual torments of teenage life and the plagues of the demon world all rolled into one.
Her heart had been broken more than once.
She'd seen her friends taken down by demons and her family taken down by disease.
Xander and anya were killed when angelus threw a petrol bomb into xander's flat to flush them out. Willow and Anya were killed when a spell got out of hand. Giles died from a heartattack and Joyce froma brain tumour. Dawn wasn't even her sister and her first true love was a vampire.
Never-the-less, Buffy Summers was strong. She took on whatever you could throw at her, and gave it back just as good.
Counting the years, there was so much time yet so little of it to spare.
Counting the seconds, the moments, the heartbeats.
The constant bleep from the heart monitor sounded the alarm - the image on the black screen just a straight green line.
The bleeping stopped. The plug had been pulled.
The Slayer's body lay motionless on the hospital bed - peaceful s if in sleep. All colour drained from her face, a wild contrast to the masses of cuts and bruises across her face and arms.
spike leant against the wall, plug in hand, gazing down at her.
Of all the causes of death available to a Slayer, it had to end like this.
He looked out of the window to his car. The hood dented, the headlights smashed. Blood splattered across the winscreen where her head had hit the window.
He watched silently as a couple of nurses bustled in, taking the body away on a trolley. She was nothing to them. Just another fatality - of which Sunnydale had so many. The secrets of her life as the Slayer died as she did.
Smiling faintly, he made his way back to the car and wiped the blood from the window with his sleeve. Stepping in behind the wheel, he sighed and wondered what the next Slayer would be like. He began to drive back to his flat, but had to stop and laugh as he saw a lone vampire with his lunch. The girl would be dead in a few moments, no-one here to save her - and like hell he would.