Thanks to Kelly for the beta
Real Life, part 5
I stare down the pair of demons. "Which one do you want to take out, love? There's one for each of us. Buffy? Buffy!" Oh, blast. I'm not sure what has induced this latest state of catatonia, but I am sure that, somehow, I am at fault. She just stands there, like the bot when she needed a recharge. The Fyarls are within arms reach now. Well, their arms, anyway, and I have to shove Buffy out of the way before one of them takes off her head. I swing my axe, but with only a mortal man's strength behind it, one of the Fyarls simply plucks it out of my hands. "Mad now!" it roars. Not that it makes much difference.
Running seems to be the best option at this point, since they're as fast as they are bright. However, I can't leave the wife behind. She's still sitting on the ground, where she fell when I pushed her. I shake her and she stares blankly at me. "Come on, love, snap out of it." I get no response. I slap her face. Still nothing. Sod it. I haul off and land a left hook to her jaw, nearly breaking my hand in the process. Her head snaps back and then she seems to finally understand what's going on. She looks at me, just in time to see me picked up and thrown through the air.
That's the last thing I remember before I come to next to a grave marker with a hell of a headache, my head in Buffy's lap. She is stroking my hair, and crying. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she says, over and over again. I look behind her and see the two Fyarls dead on the ground several feet away. They must have thrown me quite a distance.
"It's o.k., love. I'm alright." I struggle to sit up, but she doesn't look at me. Just keeps crying. I put my hands on her shoulders and gently turn her towards me. "Buffy, what is it?"
"I know it's crazy, but I was afraid that one of those Fyarls might have been him. Or maybe someone else. That's crazy, right? But I wasn't sure because, back then, I should have known, somehow. I mean, it was Giles! If I could have just seen him before they took him, I'm sure I would've known it was him. They couldn't tell, until he was dead. They tortured him! Fucking Initiative! And that stupid Agent Finn. 'We're sorry for the error, Miss Summers. We thought he was a hostile.'" She's sobbing now, and my mind is racing, trying to put it all together. Fyarls. Initiative. Giles. And then, I realize she's talking about Fyarl Giles.
Two hundred bucks.
I helped him that night for a paltry two hundred dollars, not out of the goodness of my undead heart, but for the money. And for a laugh. And to stick it to the Initiative. And, let's face it, because I kind of liked the bloke. Is that what Rupert Giles's life is worth? Two hundred dollars? I remember what it was like for Buffy when her watcher left for England. I can't imagine what she went through, losing him permanently. The middle of the cemetery is not the place to contemplate all of this, though.
I stand up and pull Buffy up with me. "Come on, love, we've got to get you home."
Her eyes are unfocused and her voice takes on this sort of dreamy quality that chills me to the bone. "They're all dead because of me. Dead and gone. I failed them. I failed them all. First Angel, then Giles, then Mom...and, and, oh God, Will, I miss my sister so much." What?
No. No, she can't mean what I think she means.
I look down at the headstone we've been sitting next to, and what I see there drops me to my knees. "Nibblet. No, not you, nibblet."
Dawn Summers 1986-2001 Beloved Daughter, Sister, Friend She Saved the World
"It should have been me," Buffy says, looking down at me sadly. "How was I supposed to choose between my sister and my baby? How was I supposed to choose?"
I cannot speak. I crawl across the grass and press my head against the cool stone of the marker. Dawn. Dawn jumped from that tower. Buffy was pregnant, pregnant with our baby, and she couldn't bring herself to do it. Buffy lived. But one of them had to die.
I trace my fingers over the letters carved into the stone. "You're a hero, little bit," I whisper. And then I start to cry. Not my sweet bit. Not my Dawn. And my poor Buffy. How *was* she supposed to choose? And how has she lived with it all this time, with all of it?
When I finally pull myself together enough to look up, Buffy is gone. I stand and look around me, but she's nowhere to be seen. I know where she's headed, though. With her speed, I just hope I make it in time.
I take off running for that bloody tower.
Sunnydale is not that big, but I have to stop twice and catch my breath before I reach the damn thing. Each time, I pause and wonder why the hell I wanted to be human again. The wind has begun to whip around me, and suddenly, a bolt of lightning cracks the sky.
When I finally get there, I see my girl. The rickety monstrosity built by crazy people still stands, one hundred feet in the air, and Buffy has just reached the top. Why didn't the idiots that run this town take it down? She stands there, feet spread apart, wind blowing her hair back, staring out into the night. It begins to rain then, and her clothes are soon plastered to her body. I know if I try to climb, I'll be too slow, and I don't know if that tower can take the weight of one more person anyway. I just hope she can hear me from where she is.
"Buffy! Buffy!" She looks down at me, but says nothing. "Buffy! You have to come down! Megan needs you. I need you," I shout. "Buffy, we can't lose you. Don't put us through that." I'm not sure how much she hears through the wind and the rain, but she puts her head in her hands then, and sinks down on the platform, her shoulders shaking. I breath a sigh of relief. At least she's not trying to jump. Maybe I'll have to go up there and get her anyway, though. I decide to try again to convince her to come down. "Buffy, love..."
That's when the tower collapses.
Once again I can hear someone screaming, and once again it is me. "NO! Buffy!" I watch helplessly as the tower begins to fold in upon itself. I can no longer see Buffy, and I close my eyes, unable to watch this happen again. The wind continues to gust and the pelting rain stings my skin. I hear another bolt of lightning crack and strike a tree somewhere nearby. And then, without warning, all is quiet. Dead quiet.
I slowly open my eyes to the most astounding sight. The world has freeze framed around me. Pieces of the tower remain suspended in mid-air. The wind is silent. Even the rain drops just hang in the air. Nothing moves except me.
Well, me and that big demony looking guy who's now walking towards me. Never saw one of these, before. I really, really wish I had my axe. He is huge, gray, and looks like a demonized, metallicized linebacker with glowing red eyes. He sticks his hand out and I wait for the paralyzing mucous or poisonous stinger or whatever nastiness he's got for me.
But he just smiles congenially and says, "Hey, how ya doin'? The name's Skip."
TBC
Real Life, part 5
I stare down the pair of demons. "Which one do you want to take out, love? There's one for each of us. Buffy? Buffy!" Oh, blast. I'm not sure what has induced this latest state of catatonia, but I am sure that, somehow, I am at fault. She just stands there, like the bot when she needed a recharge. The Fyarls are within arms reach now. Well, their arms, anyway, and I have to shove Buffy out of the way before one of them takes off her head. I swing my axe, but with only a mortal man's strength behind it, one of the Fyarls simply plucks it out of my hands. "Mad now!" it roars. Not that it makes much difference.
Running seems to be the best option at this point, since they're as fast as they are bright. However, I can't leave the wife behind. She's still sitting on the ground, where she fell when I pushed her. I shake her and she stares blankly at me. "Come on, love, snap out of it." I get no response. I slap her face. Still nothing. Sod it. I haul off and land a left hook to her jaw, nearly breaking my hand in the process. Her head snaps back and then she seems to finally understand what's going on. She looks at me, just in time to see me picked up and thrown through the air.
That's the last thing I remember before I come to next to a grave marker with a hell of a headache, my head in Buffy's lap. She is stroking my hair, and crying. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she says, over and over again. I look behind her and see the two Fyarls dead on the ground several feet away. They must have thrown me quite a distance.
"It's o.k., love. I'm alright." I struggle to sit up, but she doesn't look at me. Just keeps crying. I put my hands on her shoulders and gently turn her towards me. "Buffy, what is it?"
"I know it's crazy, but I was afraid that one of those Fyarls might have been him. Or maybe someone else. That's crazy, right? But I wasn't sure because, back then, I should have known, somehow. I mean, it was Giles! If I could have just seen him before they took him, I'm sure I would've known it was him. They couldn't tell, until he was dead. They tortured him! Fucking Initiative! And that stupid Agent Finn. 'We're sorry for the error, Miss Summers. We thought he was a hostile.'" She's sobbing now, and my mind is racing, trying to put it all together. Fyarls. Initiative. Giles. And then, I realize she's talking about Fyarl Giles.
Two hundred bucks.
I helped him that night for a paltry two hundred dollars, not out of the goodness of my undead heart, but for the money. And for a laugh. And to stick it to the Initiative. And, let's face it, because I kind of liked the bloke. Is that what Rupert Giles's life is worth? Two hundred dollars? I remember what it was like for Buffy when her watcher left for England. I can't imagine what she went through, losing him permanently. The middle of the cemetery is not the place to contemplate all of this, though.
I stand up and pull Buffy up with me. "Come on, love, we've got to get you home."
Her eyes are unfocused and her voice takes on this sort of dreamy quality that chills me to the bone. "They're all dead because of me. Dead and gone. I failed them. I failed them all. First Angel, then Giles, then Mom...and, and, oh God, Will, I miss my sister so much." What?
No. No, she can't mean what I think she means.
I look down at the headstone we've been sitting next to, and what I see there drops me to my knees. "Nibblet. No, not you, nibblet."
Dawn Summers 1986-2001 Beloved Daughter, Sister, Friend She Saved the World
"It should have been me," Buffy says, looking down at me sadly. "How was I supposed to choose between my sister and my baby? How was I supposed to choose?"
I cannot speak. I crawl across the grass and press my head against the cool stone of the marker. Dawn. Dawn jumped from that tower. Buffy was pregnant, pregnant with our baby, and she couldn't bring herself to do it. Buffy lived. But one of them had to die.
I trace my fingers over the letters carved into the stone. "You're a hero, little bit," I whisper. And then I start to cry. Not my sweet bit. Not my Dawn. And my poor Buffy. How *was* she supposed to choose? And how has she lived with it all this time, with all of it?
When I finally pull myself together enough to look up, Buffy is gone. I stand and look around me, but she's nowhere to be seen. I know where she's headed, though. With her speed, I just hope I make it in time.
I take off running for that bloody tower.
Sunnydale is not that big, but I have to stop twice and catch my breath before I reach the damn thing. Each time, I pause and wonder why the hell I wanted to be human again. The wind has begun to whip around me, and suddenly, a bolt of lightning cracks the sky.
When I finally get there, I see my girl. The rickety monstrosity built by crazy people still stands, one hundred feet in the air, and Buffy has just reached the top. Why didn't the idiots that run this town take it down? She stands there, feet spread apart, wind blowing her hair back, staring out into the night. It begins to rain then, and her clothes are soon plastered to her body. I know if I try to climb, I'll be too slow, and I don't know if that tower can take the weight of one more person anyway. I just hope she can hear me from where she is.
"Buffy! Buffy!" She looks down at me, but says nothing. "Buffy! You have to come down! Megan needs you. I need you," I shout. "Buffy, we can't lose you. Don't put us through that." I'm not sure how much she hears through the wind and the rain, but she puts her head in her hands then, and sinks down on the platform, her shoulders shaking. I breath a sigh of relief. At least she's not trying to jump. Maybe I'll have to go up there and get her anyway, though. I decide to try again to convince her to come down. "Buffy, love..."
That's when the tower collapses.
Once again I can hear someone screaming, and once again it is me. "NO! Buffy!" I watch helplessly as the tower begins to fold in upon itself. I can no longer see Buffy, and I close my eyes, unable to watch this happen again. The wind continues to gust and the pelting rain stings my skin. I hear another bolt of lightning crack and strike a tree somewhere nearby. And then, without warning, all is quiet. Dead quiet.
I slowly open my eyes to the most astounding sight. The world has freeze framed around me. Pieces of the tower remain suspended in mid-air. The wind is silent. Even the rain drops just hang in the air. Nothing moves except me.
Well, me and that big demony looking guy who's now walking towards me. Never saw one of these, before. I really, really wish I had my axe. He is huge, gray, and looks like a demonized, metallicized linebacker with glowing red eyes. He sticks his hand out and I wait for the paralyzing mucous or poisonous stinger or whatever nastiness he's got for me.
But he just smiles congenially and says, "Hey, how ya doin'? The name's Skip."
TBC