Buffy came over my house more often.
We didn't do much. We just sat and watched TV on the couch. I know that may seem boring to most of you, but it was a refreshing change from most of our other activities. It was a time where we didn't have to be brave. Where we didn't have to risk our necks for the cause of good. Where I didn't have to lie just to save my own ass. We could just sit and watch bad movies or lame infomercials and make jokes and laugh. It was a time where we could just be. After the complete and utter chaos my life had become...
Just being was exactly what I needed.
She always sat close to me. We didn't snuggle or anything, but it was nice just to know that yes, there was a person that close to you. And yes, that person wanted to be there as much as you did. I tried to clean up most of the mess after she left that night we kissed, but I only got as far as picking up the boxes that were on the floor. I knew she didn't mind the clutter. I think she actually found it endearing.
I haven't let her kiss me since that night.
When we sit on the couch, I let her sit near me, and I let her hold my hand. And it's nice to feel the simple comfort of that small contact.
But I don't let her kiss me.
I realized that night that the kiss was mostly about me. What I wanted. What I needed. What helped *me* forget everything. Kissing is something that's meant to be built out of passion. Which I do admit I have somewhere inside of me, but it is drowned out by my need to forget. Kissing her makes me forget. And that's what I hate about it. I can't kiss her because it's her. I kiss her for me. That's not how it's supposed to go. Kissing isn't supposed to be selfish. So it doesn't happen.
I did have a brief swell of ego when she protested, but I think she understood. That didn't mean she didn't tempt me.
I make sure she's never around when my father calls.
I didn't want to have to explain to her why she couldn't say hello even though he's sober. I don't want to have to explain to him what she'd be doing here in the first place. He called me the other day, just like clockwork. He told me to be cautious of more assassins coming my way. Apparently a small number of tribe members weren't exactly thrilled to have their seventeen-year absentee king suddenly return with his half-breed son. In their minds he'd sacrificed his throne the day he left. They were perfectly happy without him. They were perfectly *unhappy* about me. Despite the fact that I could become stronger than all of them, my part human status both disgusted and enraged them. I was an abomination. I'm using my father's words here. Who knew he was so well spoken? He said he was taking care of these "traitors" as best he could, but I should still watch my back.
Aye, aye sir. Will do.
So I have to be prepared for another bout with my own kind trying to kill me. Grand. I never wanted to see anyone of them ever again but I guess I don't have a choice in the matter. It's them or me.
It's like a tug of war.
Them, me, them, me.
Who's going to fall into the pit of mud? Who's going to be blessed with glory?
I want to give up sometimes.
Let these rebels overthrow my father and take the tribe to any level of achievement they want. I don't really care as long as they stayed far, far away from me. Sounds like a good deal doesn't it? I'd be rid of my father and them all at the same time.
Two birds.
One stone.
You know how it goes.
It won't happen that way. I know that.
Everything is going to come crashing down soon. I can feel it. It's like a dark gray cloud following me around. It's not directly over my head, not yet anyway. It's just sort of floating somewhere out there in the background, waiting for its moment to rain down on me and all my friends.
They're going to find out eventually.
It's a chilling fact to realize. But a person can only dodge the truth for so long.
If I don't tell them one of these demons is bound to point me out when we run into them again. And if not, what if I had to use my power to defend myself? What if I had to use my power to save one of them? What if I had to use my power because the coals on the barbecue weren't hot enough?
What if? What if? What if?
I know I'm going to have to deal with it all soon enough.
And I really don't want to.
When I disembarked my train of thought Buffy's hand was still in mine, and she was laughing at some sitcom I wasn't paying any attention to. She playfully nudged me in the side and told me to watch. I looked at her, smiling softly at the cheap comedy being broadcast into the room. She was so beautiful. Guilt surfaced form somewhere deep inside of me and I had to turn away. She shouldn't have been here. I didn't deserve to have to her this close to me. I didn't deserve to receive any emotion she may be forming for me.
She should go.
I should be alone.
She should be happy.
I should be suffering.
I almost told her she should leave. But then she leaned closer to me and rested her head on my shoulder. And once again her contact made my mind go blank. For the next few minutes it seemed like all was right in the world. That there could possibly be no wrong.
I knew it wasn't real.
But I let myself pretend.
***
It was cold when I opened my eyes.
The second thing I noticed was that I wasn't in my bed. The third, I wasn't even in my house. I tried to open my eyes but the light hurt too badly. A breeze blew over me and sent chills all along my body. I felt sore everywhere. My ribs were stiff as hell, and my knees ached when I pushed myself onto them. I still kept my eyes closed but I realized that I didn't have a shirt on.
I eased my eyes open just enough so that I could see the lower half of my chest and I wish I'd kept them closed. A ten-inch cut along my torso greeted me hello. It was caked with my own dried blood. Wow, it turned out I was red inside like everybody else. I had no idea where it came from. And I really didn't want to know.
I used the wall next to me to stand on shaky legs and I dared to open my eyes more fully. And once again I wished I hadn't. I surrounded by piles of black smoldering ash, the calling card of a fried member of the tribe. It was everywhere. All over the walls that surrounded me, on my face, my feet, my hands.
Holy shit, my hands.
They looked like sun baked leather.
They were charred dark brown and my palms were beat red. It looked like I had stuck them in an oven for thirty minutes. It wasn't pretty.
My head throbbed.
There was no sun overhead. Just an unexplainable light burning my eyes. My hands hurt; there was ash in my mouth, in my hair. There was blood on me. My blood. The cut on my chest stung.
I heard a growl from somewhere.
I fell back onto my knees and whatever it was growled even louder. I couldn't open my eyes again; the light was too bright and hurt too much. The growling seemed to come closer toward me and I couldn't see it. I felt its hot humid breath on my face suddenly. I nearly threw up it was so rank and rancid. But I couldn't open my eyes. I just couldn't.
"Look me in the eyes," it roared. "Show me some damned respect."
No.
Oh god no.
I blinked open my eyes as far as I could.
Once again I wished I hadn't.
Staring back at me, no more than two inches away, was my father's demon visage.
His sharpened yellow fangs were exposed in a gangly grin, and he ran his snake like tongue over them.
Is that what I really looked like?
His large gray hands wrapped themselves around my wrists, the small nail-like claws cutting into my skin. He carefully examined the burn marks on my hands and grunted in disgust. He threw my hands away, the burns causing pain to twitch up and down the length of my arms.
"Pathetic," he sneered. "Can't even destroy your enemies without destroying yourself."
I wanted to argue.
I wanted to defend myself to him in some odd form.
But I didn't.
I felt dizzy. The stench of my father and the ash of burned tribesman around us made me want to throw up. He grabbed my shoulders and lifted me high off the ground. I closed my eyes again, not wanting to see the anger on his hideous face.
"You are Prince!" He shouted at me. "You must be strong. You must not let your own power get the best of you. You must not these humans influence you."
Humans?
What was he talking about?
I opened my eyes again to see Buffy magically appear in his grasp. What the fuck was going on? How did she get here? What was he doing with her?
"I blame myself," he said. "I'd let you think you were one of them for too long."
He lifted her easily with his other hand and threw me back to the ground. I coughed wildly as ash clouded around me. I looked back to my father and immediately shouted my dismay at the sight before me. He had the lower half of Buffy's body completely wrapped in his left hand, while he held her head in the right. She looked at me with helpless eyes and mouthed my name.
"You must sever all human ties," my father said authoritively.
He easily snapped her neck and threw her lifeless body to the ground.
"And then we shall rule."
I screamed.
I screamed with anguish far beyond anything I'd ever felt in my life.
He'd killed her like it was nothing.
He'd acted like it was nothing.
He was about to be nothing.
I aimed my crimson vengeance straight at his disgusting face and I let loose more power than I ever had before. My hands burned, my body ached, and still I let it go. He roared in pain and surprise and I lost him as a black shadow buried in my power's light.
I screamed and screamed and screamed.
And woke up in cold sweat on my living room floor.
And no matter what I did.
I couldn't stop shaking.
***
I didn't speak to anyone that day.
I couldn't bear to see Buffy after what I had dreamed. Because I knew it was more than that. Dreams always meant more than what you saw in them. It was a vision of things to come. Horribly symbolic as it may have been didn't make it any less true. My time was coming. My little charade was almost at an end. The next few days were going to be like running through the gauntlet. My lies and my senses would all be tested far beyond any limit I ever wanted to tap inside of myself. Back and forth, back and forth. Evade capture, hide from the enemy. Which enemy? Let no one see anyone else.
It was going to be hell.
How do I know this you ask?
How was I so sure I'd be doing all this running around?
That's easy.
My father came back.
We didn't do much. We just sat and watched TV on the couch. I know that may seem boring to most of you, but it was a refreshing change from most of our other activities. It was a time where we didn't have to be brave. Where we didn't have to risk our necks for the cause of good. Where I didn't have to lie just to save my own ass. We could just sit and watch bad movies or lame infomercials and make jokes and laugh. It was a time where we could just be. After the complete and utter chaos my life had become...
Just being was exactly what I needed.
She always sat close to me. We didn't snuggle or anything, but it was nice just to know that yes, there was a person that close to you. And yes, that person wanted to be there as much as you did. I tried to clean up most of the mess after she left that night we kissed, but I only got as far as picking up the boxes that were on the floor. I knew she didn't mind the clutter. I think she actually found it endearing.
I haven't let her kiss me since that night.
When we sit on the couch, I let her sit near me, and I let her hold my hand. And it's nice to feel the simple comfort of that small contact.
But I don't let her kiss me.
I realized that night that the kiss was mostly about me. What I wanted. What I needed. What helped *me* forget everything. Kissing is something that's meant to be built out of passion. Which I do admit I have somewhere inside of me, but it is drowned out by my need to forget. Kissing her makes me forget. And that's what I hate about it. I can't kiss her because it's her. I kiss her for me. That's not how it's supposed to go. Kissing isn't supposed to be selfish. So it doesn't happen.
I did have a brief swell of ego when she protested, but I think she understood. That didn't mean she didn't tempt me.
I make sure she's never around when my father calls.
I didn't want to have to explain to her why she couldn't say hello even though he's sober. I don't want to have to explain to him what she'd be doing here in the first place. He called me the other day, just like clockwork. He told me to be cautious of more assassins coming my way. Apparently a small number of tribe members weren't exactly thrilled to have their seventeen-year absentee king suddenly return with his half-breed son. In their minds he'd sacrificed his throne the day he left. They were perfectly happy without him. They were perfectly *unhappy* about me. Despite the fact that I could become stronger than all of them, my part human status both disgusted and enraged them. I was an abomination. I'm using my father's words here. Who knew he was so well spoken? He said he was taking care of these "traitors" as best he could, but I should still watch my back.
Aye, aye sir. Will do.
So I have to be prepared for another bout with my own kind trying to kill me. Grand. I never wanted to see anyone of them ever again but I guess I don't have a choice in the matter. It's them or me.
It's like a tug of war.
Them, me, them, me.
Who's going to fall into the pit of mud? Who's going to be blessed with glory?
I want to give up sometimes.
Let these rebels overthrow my father and take the tribe to any level of achievement they want. I don't really care as long as they stayed far, far away from me. Sounds like a good deal doesn't it? I'd be rid of my father and them all at the same time.
Two birds.
One stone.
You know how it goes.
It won't happen that way. I know that.
Everything is going to come crashing down soon. I can feel it. It's like a dark gray cloud following me around. It's not directly over my head, not yet anyway. It's just sort of floating somewhere out there in the background, waiting for its moment to rain down on me and all my friends.
They're going to find out eventually.
It's a chilling fact to realize. But a person can only dodge the truth for so long.
If I don't tell them one of these demons is bound to point me out when we run into them again. And if not, what if I had to use my power to defend myself? What if I had to use my power to save one of them? What if I had to use my power because the coals on the barbecue weren't hot enough?
What if? What if? What if?
I know I'm going to have to deal with it all soon enough.
And I really don't want to.
When I disembarked my train of thought Buffy's hand was still in mine, and she was laughing at some sitcom I wasn't paying any attention to. She playfully nudged me in the side and told me to watch. I looked at her, smiling softly at the cheap comedy being broadcast into the room. She was so beautiful. Guilt surfaced form somewhere deep inside of me and I had to turn away. She shouldn't have been here. I didn't deserve to have to her this close to me. I didn't deserve to receive any emotion she may be forming for me.
She should go.
I should be alone.
She should be happy.
I should be suffering.
I almost told her she should leave. But then she leaned closer to me and rested her head on my shoulder. And once again her contact made my mind go blank. For the next few minutes it seemed like all was right in the world. That there could possibly be no wrong.
I knew it wasn't real.
But I let myself pretend.
***
It was cold when I opened my eyes.
The second thing I noticed was that I wasn't in my bed. The third, I wasn't even in my house. I tried to open my eyes but the light hurt too badly. A breeze blew over me and sent chills all along my body. I felt sore everywhere. My ribs were stiff as hell, and my knees ached when I pushed myself onto them. I still kept my eyes closed but I realized that I didn't have a shirt on.
I eased my eyes open just enough so that I could see the lower half of my chest and I wish I'd kept them closed. A ten-inch cut along my torso greeted me hello. It was caked with my own dried blood. Wow, it turned out I was red inside like everybody else. I had no idea where it came from. And I really didn't want to know.
I used the wall next to me to stand on shaky legs and I dared to open my eyes more fully. And once again I wished I hadn't. I surrounded by piles of black smoldering ash, the calling card of a fried member of the tribe. It was everywhere. All over the walls that surrounded me, on my face, my feet, my hands.
Holy shit, my hands.
They looked like sun baked leather.
They were charred dark brown and my palms were beat red. It looked like I had stuck them in an oven for thirty minutes. It wasn't pretty.
My head throbbed.
There was no sun overhead. Just an unexplainable light burning my eyes. My hands hurt; there was ash in my mouth, in my hair. There was blood on me. My blood. The cut on my chest stung.
I heard a growl from somewhere.
I fell back onto my knees and whatever it was growled even louder. I couldn't open my eyes again; the light was too bright and hurt too much. The growling seemed to come closer toward me and I couldn't see it. I felt its hot humid breath on my face suddenly. I nearly threw up it was so rank and rancid. But I couldn't open my eyes. I just couldn't.
"Look me in the eyes," it roared. "Show me some damned respect."
No.
Oh god no.
I blinked open my eyes as far as I could.
Once again I wished I hadn't.
Staring back at me, no more than two inches away, was my father's demon visage.
His sharpened yellow fangs were exposed in a gangly grin, and he ran his snake like tongue over them.
Is that what I really looked like?
His large gray hands wrapped themselves around my wrists, the small nail-like claws cutting into my skin. He carefully examined the burn marks on my hands and grunted in disgust. He threw my hands away, the burns causing pain to twitch up and down the length of my arms.
"Pathetic," he sneered. "Can't even destroy your enemies without destroying yourself."
I wanted to argue.
I wanted to defend myself to him in some odd form.
But I didn't.
I felt dizzy. The stench of my father and the ash of burned tribesman around us made me want to throw up. He grabbed my shoulders and lifted me high off the ground. I closed my eyes again, not wanting to see the anger on his hideous face.
"You are Prince!" He shouted at me. "You must be strong. You must not let your own power get the best of you. You must not these humans influence you."
Humans?
What was he talking about?
I opened my eyes again to see Buffy magically appear in his grasp. What the fuck was going on? How did she get here? What was he doing with her?
"I blame myself," he said. "I'd let you think you were one of them for too long."
He lifted her easily with his other hand and threw me back to the ground. I coughed wildly as ash clouded around me. I looked back to my father and immediately shouted my dismay at the sight before me. He had the lower half of Buffy's body completely wrapped in his left hand, while he held her head in the right. She looked at me with helpless eyes and mouthed my name.
"You must sever all human ties," my father said authoritively.
He easily snapped her neck and threw her lifeless body to the ground.
"And then we shall rule."
I screamed.
I screamed with anguish far beyond anything I'd ever felt in my life.
He'd killed her like it was nothing.
He'd acted like it was nothing.
He was about to be nothing.
I aimed my crimson vengeance straight at his disgusting face and I let loose more power than I ever had before. My hands burned, my body ached, and still I let it go. He roared in pain and surprise and I lost him as a black shadow buried in my power's light.
I screamed and screamed and screamed.
And woke up in cold sweat on my living room floor.
And no matter what I did.
I couldn't stop shaking.
***
I didn't speak to anyone that day.
I couldn't bear to see Buffy after what I had dreamed. Because I knew it was more than that. Dreams always meant more than what you saw in them. It was a vision of things to come. Horribly symbolic as it may have been didn't make it any less true. My time was coming. My little charade was almost at an end. The next few days were going to be like running through the gauntlet. My lies and my senses would all be tested far beyond any limit I ever wanted to tap inside of myself. Back and forth, back and forth. Evade capture, hide from the enemy. Which enemy? Let no one see anyone else.
It was going to be hell.
How do I know this you ask?
How was I so sure I'd be doing all this running around?
That's easy.
My father came back.