She was my savior, my hero, but above all, my best friend. The one who
brought me out of my shell, she was the one who made me feel like I was
worth something, like a person. As I stare at her lifeless body, lying
there like a rag doll, cast aside by some spoiled toddler, I felt the need
to rush to her side, as she had me so many times before. Though deep down I
knew no good would come of it. My lover clung close to me, trying to
comfort me and be my solace as she always had, I stood silent, and myself
also dying, crying, screaming, but all on the inside. Outwardly, all I
could do was stare. I felt the warmth in my eyes, and the tears came,
slowly at first. Flowing down my cheek and falling on the the stone floor.
Though Tara had always been there for me, though she was my soulmate,she
couldn't understand my pain now, no, at this point I needed someone who
felt the same way for the fallen hero as I.
Xander, I hadn't even thought of him til that moment, and almost instantly felt a pang shoot up in my chest, I wanted to hold him, as I was sure he felt the same emptiness now that plagued me. And little Dawnie, what was she going to do now? I glanced back, and saw her standing on the stairwell, not in the shock that we all were, but almost in hysterics, as she stare also at her sister. What was she going to do now? With no mother, no guardian? No one to keep her safe from all the evils that once fled the presence of her sister, the slayer, her protector. No one except, Spike! I looked to my right and saw the blonde vampire crouching on the floor, face covered, bawling. He had loved her I reasoned, and though he had no soul, there was no questioning his heart.
Presently, looking back to the battered body that once housed my friend, I ran to her side, as I had wanted to before. I buried my face in her chest, and held her close to me, I took hold on her hand, now cold, and pale. My tears fell from my face to hers as I crouched over her, making it appear that she to was crying, my tears falling down her blue cheek. Though it would seem absurd for her to cry now, she was with her mother. I wondered what Joyce would've done in this position, would she have handled it with the courage that Buffy had handled her mother's death. No, Spike had said it many times, the Summers women were definitely as tough as they come, and with their history the would have to be. But none of them, were as courageous as Buffy, her strength and selflessness was something that we could all learn from, she was an inspiration, the word 'hero' personified. Later I would discover that her last words to us were these: ' you have to take care of each other, you have to be strong, the hardest thing in this world, is to live in it, be brave. live. for me.' I couldn't have worded it better myself, and I admire now the eloquence with which she spoke her last words on the earth that she saved so many times.
As I stood there memories came flooding back into my head, five years of friendship, five years of saving me from Cordelia's cutting words, saving me from myself, bringing me out, teaching me to live. She had saved me. The first slayer had said ' death was her gift' but in my eyes, her gift to me was life. Buffy was loved by everyone in Sunnydale, with the exception of the demons of course, but they didn't count. I don' think there was a single person in the town whom she hadn't aided at one time or another, hence the title ' class protector' given to her at our senior prom. She was the protector. Though now looking back, I may make it sound as if Buffy was some larger than life preternatural being, but she wasn't, aside from her strength and courage there was nothing abnormal about her, she was just a girl, and in truth, she'd be the first to tell you that. An average teenager, well actually, average 20something, giggling over boys, worrying about school, clubbing with friends. I know that one of her greatest battles was the battle she fought with herself and her everlasting desire to be 'normal', not even she understood that she had a gift. And not even she understood that she was, in essence, normal, just someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's best friend...my best friend. As all these thoughts ran through my head it felt like I had been staring for hours, but, it had only been 3 minutes, but there was one more thing I had to do, one more obligation to fulfill to my fallen friend...I had to go to LA.
Xander, I hadn't even thought of him til that moment, and almost instantly felt a pang shoot up in my chest, I wanted to hold him, as I was sure he felt the same emptiness now that plagued me. And little Dawnie, what was she going to do now? I glanced back, and saw her standing on the stairwell, not in the shock that we all were, but almost in hysterics, as she stare also at her sister. What was she going to do now? With no mother, no guardian? No one to keep her safe from all the evils that once fled the presence of her sister, the slayer, her protector. No one except, Spike! I looked to my right and saw the blonde vampire crouching on the floor, face covered, bawling. He had loved her I reasoned, and though he had no soul, there was no questioning his heart.
Presently, looking back to the battered body that once housed my friend, I ran to her side, as I had wanted to before. I buried my face in her chest, and held her close to me, I took hold on her hand, now cold, and pale. My tears fell from my face to hers as I crouched over her, making it appear that she to was crying, my tears falling down her blue cheek. Though it would seem absurd for her to cry now, she was with her mother. I wondered what Joyce would've done in this position, would she have handled it with the courage that Buffy had handled her mother's death. No, Spike had said it many times, the Summers women were definitely as tough as they come, and with their history the would have to be. But none of them, were as courageous as Buffy, her strength and selflessness was something that we could all learn from, she was an inspiration, the word 'hero' personified. Later I would discover that her last words to us were these: ' you have to take care of each other, you have to be strong, the hardest thing in this world, is to live in it, be brave. live. for me.' I couldn't have worded it better myself, and I admire now the eloquence with which she spoke her last words on the earth that she saved so many times.
As I stood there memories came flooding back into my head, five years of friendship, five years of saving me from Cordelia's cutting words, saving me from myself, bringing me out, teaching me to live. She had saved me. The first slayer had said ' death was her gift' but in my eyes, her gift to me was life. Buffy was loved by everyone in Sunnydale, with the exception of the demons of course, but they didn't count. I don' think there was a single person in the town whom she hadn't aided at one time or another, hence the title ' class protector' given to her at our senior prom. She was the protector. Though now looking back, I may make it sound as if Buffy was some larger than life preternatural being, but she wasn't, aside from her strength and courage there was nothing abnormal about her, she was just a girl, and in truth, she'd be the first to tell you that. An average teenager, well actually, average 20something, giggling over boys, worrying about school, clubbing with friends. I know that one of her greatest battles was the battle she fought with herself and her everlasting desire to be 'normal', not even she understood that she had a gift. And not even she understood that she was, in essence, normal, just someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's best friend...my best friend. As all these thoughts ran through my head it felt like I had been staring for hours, but, it had only been 3 minutes, but there was one more thing I had to do, one more obligation to fulfill to my fallen friend...I had to go to LA.