TITLE: Just a Girl
AUTHOR: Elise (BehrBeMine)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything. Don't sue, I'll cry. ;p
SUMMARY: Dealing with being the world's only Savior is sometimes too much to bear. Told from Buffy's POV.
DISTRIBUTION: Want it? Take it. Let me know where you've put it.
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: Post-"The Body".
THANKS: Ten thousand Behr hugs for my gracious beta reader and always entertaining ramble buddy, Aurora. :)~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: My first delve into the world of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" fanfiction. Go easy on me, eh?
[ Boy: But you're just a girl...
Buffy: That's what I keep saying. ] "The Gift"
My footsteps pound in a consistent beat, though the bulk of their echo is absorbed by the grass that carpets the cemetery, even in the night. Long ago the sun has set, leaving a blanket of shadow to embrace all that doesn't flee into the artificial light emanating from the middle-class homes nestled not far away. As I race past the headstones, past the branches of the trees that reach out to snag my dark sweater, I see what's around me as a distant blur, made unimportant in my quest for the enemy I seek. The vampire I hunt.
The world fades away; there is nothing but this chase, this longing for the capture of he who evades me. My senses are keen, but only to that which will give his presence away: the snapping of a fallen twig, the faint scent of blood on his breath. And as I propel myself on, all that I hear are the deep breaths that I take, and the mushy slap of my feet on the slippery grass.
The cemetery at midnight, that which creates nightmares for so many, is where I am found night after night. It is my playground; where I belong. For first and foremost, I am the Slayer, and only second am I a girl.
Something deep inside tells me to stop. As I come to a halt, I tighten my steel grip on the stake in my hand. The cold air settles in around me, bringing with it a silence that doesn't fool me one bit. From behind me I sense a presence, and without pause, I whip my body around to smash a well-aimed fist into a rather hideous face. The inhuman creases in his brow grow deeper as he recoils with a snarl. I take the opportunity to plunge my foot into the pit of his stomach, sending him reeling backwards.
He's a young one, a weakling, and easily enough I can see that he's considering hightailing it out of here. But I'm just getting started, and I could hunt him down all night if that's what came to pass.
The anger that's driven me to certain stakings in the past has reached the point of topmost intensity, condensing into a single unforgivable rage that boils from within me. A rage so fierce that I can't control it, nor do I want to. Countless times I have sacrificed pieces of myself for the greater good, only to come out the loser in the end, eventually forced to surrender another key to the worth of my very existence. Not once, not twice, but again and again and again. The never-ending cycle of doing for the world what it will never fully comprehend nor appreciate has caught up to me, and all my selfless acts of the past have finally backfired. Someone is going to pay.
Even if that someone stands just out of reach, cowering like an injured puppy. I will not be bucked off the course of my mission simply because a vampire isn't up to my strength. Nevermind that it'll be the easiest kill in the world, it will still be a start. A beginning to the revenge I seek against the demons that have plagued my world for too long.
From somewhere beyond my sight, another vampire jumps forth, daring me to accept his challenge. "Couldn't take me on your own?" I say to my original victim, keeping my eyes fixed on both. "Had to call in one of your buddies?"
"Strong words for such a little girl," the second one growls, baring his fangs as if expecting it to frighten me. I silence any other sentences that might spring from his mouth with a kick to his jaw.
"Yes, I picked them up in the dictionary," I offer, turning to knock the more pathetic of the two out of my space. "You know, big book, lots of words?"
A third vampire comes from behind to wrap his arms around my neck, constricting my breathing for a moment before I lean forward so quickly he tumbles over me and slips to the ground. As I feel my stake sink into his flesh and I hear the thud of it piercing the heart, I glare with dry eyes.
"That was for my mother."
My mother, who now lies dead in the ground, not twenty feet from where I stand. The only one who's been there through the course of my life, from the time when I was normal, unaware of this Slayer duty that was bestowed on me before birth, dooming me to an early death which up until recently I was certain would occur before hers. Leaving her to grieve me, instead of the other way around.
I am Buffy, and I am expected to be strong at all times. Supergirl, armed with a sharply-chiseled stick of wood. Although sometimes I really wish I didn't have to be. Like when I found my mother lying still on the couch, the color drained from her face, and the blood in her veins pumping no more. A part of me died in that moment. My will to go on was carried out of my body like a sudden rush of wind, and my voice was hardly recognizable as I called Giles and the paramedics, unable to tear my eyes from that face, her face, that resembled death itself.
Yet for the sake of those around me, and for Dawn in particular, I carried on as if I had the slightest idea of how to do so. As if adult responsibilities are something that a twenty year-old is actually capable of grasping on a need-to-know basis. School was out, fun was gone, but it didn't seem to matter, for what fun would I ever enjoy now? What fun could be possible when my mother wasn't there to see it, to lecture me about knowing when to stop and get serious again?
I didn't want to deal with it, didn't want to pretend things were okay when nothing was okay. The world around me fell apart, and still I stood tall, wanting so badly to let the wind knock me down, let lightning strike me dead, let a coffin close around me so that I could be with her again, away from this world where I suddenly found myself alone.
But there was Dawn to think of, and though I watched her collapse to the floor of the middle school hallway, sobbing in a ball with the tormented wails only a child could produce, I couldn't help but to want to cry out along with her, to abandon this sense of maturity I've adopted out of necessity. So I stood back and watched as she cried out because she could, reacting in the way that she was allowed to, the way that I couldn't because my childhood was taken away too soon.
One vampire down, two left to go. They circle me, one behind me and one in front, prowling like ravenous wolves, preparing to pounce at once and tackle me to the ground. I won't have it. I'm stronger than that; I'm smarter than that. Spinning halfway around on my heel, I propel my leg with incredible force, catching the enemy in his upper arm, sending a howl of pain erupting from his mouth.
I raise my stake and prepare for a second victory of the night, but am hit heavily from behind, taken to the ground by the one that I was stupid enough to ignore. His weight lands on top of me, and I grunt in annoyance as a pang strikes my whole front side when it meets with the unforgiving ground.
With strength I doubt he was expecting, I push away from the ground, rolling halfway to my side and knocking him off my back. Leaping to my feet, I slam a foot down on his chest before he can pull himself back up to my level. In his eyes I see hatred and a humiliation in his defeat. My frown shows no sympathy and my second kill is more satisfying than the first as I say, "This is for Angel."
My beloved, my Angel who will always be mine, yet only in theory, never in presence. Angel, who will keep me at a distance from others for eternity, the memory of his touch always there to make any other's caress second best.
Though I wanted to be open and able to experience a new love for what it could be, for what my relationship with Angel was impossible to be, I found none of the solace I needed in Riley. His devotion to me was admirable, and he forgave me for the love that he gave which was never returned. What bothers me most is that I think he understood why my heart was guarded, why there was a certain part of me that couldn't be his, for it still resides with another.
The tears are welled up, the screams silent, but they're my constant companion. My punishment until death for loving that which I'm put on this earth to destroy. Sleeping with the enemy as a lovestruck girl, and now paying the ultimate price. Prepared to die while I'm still young while he lives on forever, ageless and beautiful.
I wanted it to work, to be possible for us to love despite what lies in the future, but I was a fool, blinded by the magic of my first love while he was able to see things as they were. I understand now, more than I understood then. With a sad smile I picture myself growing old, my wrinkled hand soft as puffy clouds as I reach out to touch his face, reflecting the same youth that will always be his. If I died an old woman, he'd stand by my grave when the stars filled the sky, still wearing that face of an angel that I'll always adore.
We are joined in longing, joined in soul. He is mine, but not in my arms.
The vampire that remains is the one I'd expected to die first, and I tilt my head to stare at him in a skeptical way. "How is it you're still alive?"
"Just let me go," he begs. In front of my eyes I see a disgrace, a coward. A demon, a blood-thirsty animal with no soul, no comprehension of anything but evil, and I feel nothing but hatred. He is flesh-and-bone proof that my job will never be finished, my heroine status never sung. Like ants, they come in droves, one to replace each that is killed, outnumbering me in astonishing amounts.
When I am killed, they'll continue coming, perfecting their plans for world-domination and ultimate chaos. Another Slayer will be called, her life taken over by the prophecy that she doesn't completely understand. All of her efforts put into saving this small shred of good that still exists in the world, and walking away an anonymous figure that's not recognized from the masses of all that have been saved.
At times it seems futile, an impossible battle, and giving up seems not only the easiest way out but the only sane thing to do. My face loses its resolve and slowly I lower my arm that holds the stake ready. My fighting stance relaxes, and I stand a young girl, lost in the enormity of what is expected of her, not wanting to handle it anymore.
"Leave."
The vampire pauses, apparently caught off-guard. He seems unsure of what to do, and it's ever-so-slowly that he turns on his heel and begins to walk away. His slim figure dressed up in a torn leather jacket is all that I see as my eyes refuse to look elsewhere. My mind hovers in melancholy as those I've protected flash before me.
Giles. My Watcher, my mentor, my second family. The unwavering force that's channeled my strength and in time taken away my fear of all things dark and mysterious, strong and scary. The father figure that I've found to be a better example than my own flesh and blood that chose to stray away.
Willow. My wiccan buddy who can bring on the warm-and-fuzzies when they're most needed. The shy smile that settles all our nerves and allows us to pretend that things will be okay, even though it's secretly known that they never will be. The voice of reason that pulls me out of my dark moods, and helps me cope with everything from bratty sister whining to old boyfriend woes.
Xander. The brother that's always at my side, sometimes lagging a bit behind, but never straying entirely. The protective glare that holds strong and only retreats when bad things do their worst. The loyal sidekick there to pop the jokes and make the tale even more interesting when he tells it later on.
Dawn. The recently materialized baby sister that I've come to love more than I thought it was possible to love anything. The sometimes annoying presence that is as much a part of me as my limbs. The responsibility that is mine to have, mine to protect, and the reason why I keep fighting these cruel beings of the night, because the thought of them hurting her isn't something that I can bear.
The sweat in the palm of my hand is sticky against the wood of my stake. My well-trained arm itches to lash out. The anger rises up within me again, bringing a fire to my eyes that had previously been snubbed out. My thoughts are of those that I've lost - - my mother, Riley, Angel, and of those that I still have - - Giles, Willow, Xander, Dawn...
Before I've come to a definitive conclusion, my legs are on the run again, and I'm nearing the vampire that I suddenly can't let go. Instinct takes over, and I hardly have to think as the movements of my body seem to have a mind of their own. The stake is stabbed in to the heart, the agonized scream tears through the night air, and the pieces of a demon that can no longer instill terror in this cemetery disintegrate before me.
My kill of the night is finished, my hunt successful, and in that realization I find a certain peace. Triumphantly I blow across the end of my stake as though it were a smoking gun, and with a blank mind and a tired body, I head home.
The cycle of thoughts will be back, that I'm sure of, and perhaps next time the outcome will be different. The world is something I cannot change on my own, and for now the fact that I've eliminated three from the constantly-growing equation is satisfying enough. At least until tomorrow night, when I'll hunt again, my mind arguing that it's my rightful duty because I'm the Slayer and my heart crying out that I'm just a girl.
The end.
AUTHOR: Elise (BehrBeMine)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything. Don't sue, I'll cry. ;p
SUMMARY: Dealing with being the world's only Savior is sometimes too much to bear. Told from Buffy's POV.
DISTRIBUTION: Want it? Take it. Let me know where you've put it.
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: Post-"The Body".
THANKS: Ten thousand Behr hugs for my gracious beta reader and always entertaining ramble buddy, Aurora. :)~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: My first delve into the world of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" fanfiction. Go easy on me, eh?
[ Boy: But you're just a girl...
Buffy: That's what I keep saying. ] "The Gift"
My footsteps pound in a consistent beat, though the bulk of their echo is absorbed by the grass that carpets the cemetery, even in the night. Long ago the sun has set, leaving a blanket of shadow to embrace all that doesn't flee into the artificial light emanating from the middle-class homes nestled not far away. As I race past the headstones, past the branches of the trees that reach out to snag my dark sweater, I see what's around me as a distant blur, made unimportant in my quest for the enemy I seek. The vampire I hunt.
The world fades away; there is nothing but this chase, this longing for the capture of he who evades me. My senses are keen, but only to that which will give his presence away: the snapping of a fallen twig, the faint scent of blood on his breath. And as I propel myself on, all that I hear are the deep breaths that I take, and the mushy slap of my feet on the slippery grass.
The cemetery at midnight, that which creates nightmares for so many, is where I am found night after night. It is my playground; where I belong. For first and foremost, I am the Slayer, and only second am I a girl.
Something deep inside tells me to stop. As I come to a halt, I tighten my steel grip on the stake in my hand. The cold air settles in around me, bringing with it a silence that doesn't fool me one bit. From behind me I sense a presence, and without pause, I whip my body around to smash a well-aimed fist into a rather hideous face. The inhuman creases in his brow grow deeper as he recoils with a snarl. I take the opportunity to plunge my foot into the pit of his stomach, sending him reeling backwards.
He's a young one, a weakling, and easily enough I can see that he's considering hightailing it out of here. But I'm just getting started, and I could hunt him down all night if that's what came to pass.
The anger that's driven me to certain stakings in the past has reached the point of topmost intensity, condensing into a single unforgivable rage that boils from within me. A rage so fierce that I can't control it, nor do I want to. Countless times I have sacrificed pieces of myself for the greater good, only to come out the loser in the end, eventually forced to surrender another key to the worth of my very existence. Not once, not twice, but again and again and again. The never-ending cycle of doing for the world what it will never fully comprehend nor appreciate has caught up to me, and all my selfless acts of the past have finally backfired. Someone is going to pay.
Even if that someone stands just out of reach, cowering like an injured puppy. I will not be bucked off the course of my mission simply because a vampire isn't up to my strength. Nevermind that it'll be the easiest kill in the world, it will still be a start. A beginning to the revenge I seek against the demons that have plagued my world for too long.
From somewhere beyond my sight, another vampire jumps forth, daring me to accept his challenge. "Couldn't take me on your own?" I say to my original victim, keeping my eyes fixed on both. "Had to call in one of your buddies?"
"Strong words for such a little girl," the second one growls, baring his fangs as if expecting it to frighten me. I silence any other sentences that might spring from his mouth with a kick to his jaw.
"Yes, I picked them up in the dictionary," I offer, turning to knock the more pathetic of the two out of my space. "You know, big book, lots of words?"
A third vampire comes from behind to wrap his arms around my neck, constricting my breathing for a moment before I lean forward so quickly he tumbles over me and slips to the ground. As I feel my stake sink into his flesh and I hear the thud of it piercing the heart, I glare with dry eyes.
"That was for my mother."
My mother, who now lies dead in the ground, not twenty feet from where I stand. The only one who's been there through the course of my life, from the time when I was normal, unaware of this Slayer duty that was bestowed on me before birth, dooming me to an early death which up until recently I was certain would occur before hers. Leaving her to grieve me, instead of the other way around.
I am Buffy, and I am expected to be strong at all times. Supergirl, armed with a sharply-chiseled stick of wood. Although sometimes I really wish I didn't have to be. Like when I found my mother lying still on the couch, the color drained from her face, and the blood in her veins pumping no more. A part of me died in that moment. My will to go on was carried out of my body like a sudden rush of wind, and my voice was hardly recognizable as I called Giles and the paramedics, unable to tear my eyes from that face, her face, that resembled death itself.
Yet for the sake of those around me, and for Dawn in particular, I carried on as if I had the slightest idea of how to do so. As if adult responsibilities are something that a twenty year-old is actually capable of grasping on a need-to-know basis. School was out, fun was gone, but it didn't seem to matter, for what fun would I ever enjoy now? What fun could be possible when my mother wasn't there to see it, to lecture me about knowing when to stop and get serious again?
I didn't want to deal with it, didn't want to pretend things were okay when nothing was okay. The world around me fell apart, and still I stood tall, wanting so badly to let the wind knock me down, let lightning strike me dead, let a coffin close around me so that I could be with her again, away from this world where I suddenly found myself alone.
But there was Dawn to think of, and though I watched her collapse to the floor of the middle school hallway, sobbing in a ball with the tormented wails only a child could produce, I couldn't help but to want to cry out along with her, to abandon this sense of maturity I've adopted out of necessity. So I stood back and watched as she cried out because she could, reacting in the way that she was allowed to, the way that I couldn't because my childhood was taken away too soon.
One vampire down, two left to go. They circle me, one behind me and one in front, prowling like ravenous wolves, preparing to pounce at once and tackle me to the ground. I won't have it. I'm stronger than that; I'm smarter than that. Spinning halfway around on my heel, I propel my leg with incredible force, catching the enemy in his upper arm, sending a howl of pain erupting from his mouth.
I raise my stake and prepare for a second victory of the night, but am hit heavily from behind, taken to the ground by the one that I was stupid enough to ignore. His weight lands on top of me, and I grunt in annoyance as a pang strikes my whole front side when it meets with the unforgiving ground.
With strength I doubt he was expecting, I push away from the ground, rolling halfway to my side and knocking him off my back. Leaping to my feet, I slam a foot down on his chest before he can pull himself back up to my level. In his eyes I see hatred and a humiliation in his defeat. My frown shows no sympathy and my second kill is more satisfying than the first as I say, "This is for Angel."
My beloved, my Angel who will always be mine, yet only in theory, never in presence. Angel, who will keep me at a distance from others for eternity, the memory of his touch always there to make any other's caress second best.
Though I wanted to be open and able to experience a new love for what it could be, for what my relationship with Angel was impossible to be, I found none of the solace I needed in Riley. His devotion to me was admirable, and he forgave me for the love that he gave which was never returned. What bothers me most is that I think he understood why my heart was guarded, why there was a certain part of me that couldn't be his, for it still resides with another.
The tears are welled up, the screams silent, but they're my constant companion. My punishment until death for loving that which I'm put on this earth to destroy. Sleeping with the enemy as a lovestruck girl, and now paying the ultimate price. Prepared to die while I'm still young while he lives on forever, ageless and beautiful.
I wanted it to work, to be possible for us to love despite what lies in the future, but I was a fool, blinded by the magic of my first love while he was able to see things as they were. I understand now, more than I understood then. With a sad smile I picture myself growing old, my wrinkled hand soft as puffy clouds as I reach out to touch his face, reflecting the same youth that will always be his. If I died an old woman, he'd stand by my grave when the stars filled the sky, still wearing that face of an angel that I'll always adore.
We are joined in longing, joined in soul. He is mine, but not in my arms.
The vampire that remains is the one I'd expected to die first, and I tilt my head to stare at him in a skeptical way. "How is it you're still alive?"
"Just let me go," he begs. In front of my eyes I see a disgrace, a coward. A demon, a blood-thirsty animal with no soul, no comprehension of anything but evil, and I feel nothing but hatred. He is flesh-and-bone proof that my job will never be finished, my heroine status never sung. Like ants, they come in droves, one to replace each that is killed, outnumbering me in astonishing amounts.
When I am killed, they'll continue coming, perfecting their plans for world-domination and ultimate chaos. Another Slayer will be called, her life taken over by the prophecy that she doesn't completely understand. All of her efforts put into saving this small shred of good that still exists in the world, and walking away an anonymous figure that's not recognized from the masses of all that have been saved.
At times it seems futile, an impossible battle, and giving up seems not only the easiest way out but the only sane thing to do. My face loses its resolve and slowly I lower my arm that holds the stake ready. My fighting stance relaxes, and I stand a young girl, lost in the enormity of what is expected of her, not wanting to handle it anymore.
"Leave."
The vampire pauses, apparently caught off-guard. He seems unsure of what to do, and it's ever-so-slowly that he turns on his heel and begins to walk away. His slim figure dressed up in a torn leather jacket is all that I see as my eyes refuse to look elsewhere. My mind hovers in melancholy as those I've protected flash before me.
Giles. My Watcher, my mentor, my second family. The unwavering force that's channeled my strength and in time taken away my fear of all things dark and mysterious, strong and scary. The father figure that I've found to be a better example than my own flesh and blood that chose to stray away.
Willow. My wiccan buddy who can bring on the warm-and-fuzzies when they're most needed. The shy smile that settles all our nerves and allows us to pretend that things will be okay, even though it's secretly known that they never will be. The voice of reason that pulls me out of my dark moods, and helps me cope with everything from bratty sister whining to old boyfriend woes.
Xander. The brother that's always at my side, sometimes lagging a bit behind, but never straying entirely. The protective glare that holds strong and only retreats when bad things do their worst. The loyal sidekick there to pop the jokes and make the tale even more interesting when he tells it later on.
Dawn. The recently materialized baby sister that I've come to love more than I thought it was possible to love anything. The sometimes annoying presence that is as much a part of me as my limbs. The responsibility that is mine to have, mine to protect, and the reason why I keep fighting these cruel beings of the night, because the thought of them hurting her isn't something that I can bear.
The sweat in the palm of my hand is sticky against the wood of my stake. My well-trained arm itches to lash out. The anger rises up within me again, bringing a fire to my eyes that had previously been snubbed out. My thoughts are of those that I've lost - - my mother, Riley, Angel, and of those that I still have - - Giles, Willow, Xander, Dawn...
Before I've come to a definitive conclusion, my legs are on the run again, and I'm nearing the vampire that I suddenly can't let go. Instinct takes over, and I hardly have to think as the movements of my body seem to have a mind of their own. The stake is stabbed in to the heart, the agonized scream tears through the night air, and the pieces of a demon that can no longer instill terror in this cemetery disintegrate before me.
My kill of the night is finished, my hunt successful, and in that realization I find a certain peace. Triumphantly I blow across the end of my stake as though it were a smoking gun, and with a blank mind and a tired body, I head home.
The cycle of thoughts will be back, that I'm sure of, and perhaps next time the outcome will be different. The world is something I cannot change on my own, and for now the fact that I've eliminated three from the constantly-growing equation is satisfying enough. At least until tomorrow night, when I'll hunt again, my mind arguing that it's my rightful duty because I'm the Slayer and my heart crying out that I'm just a girl.
The end.
