A/N: Hi, how're ya doin'? This is just a bit of dribble I cooked up one night. I'm sure every Buffy fan fiction writer has done it, in some way or another, this is just my version.
Distribution: Sure, just tell me where it's going
Disclaimer: You know it doesn't belong to me, I just play with them sometimes
Reviews: Are always welcome :) Good and bad.
Rest In Peace
Who knew a person could get so sick of a cemetery, eh?
Ok, I admit, a sore attempt at humour, but what else can I say? I've buried too many people in my life, and each time, it gets harder. You know, they say that time heals all wounds. What a bunch of crap. If anything, time only makes it worse.
And now, bloody hell, now, I live in damn crypt. In a bloody cemetery. The one place I actually hate, is the place where I reside. That's irony for you. Actually, when I think about it, it's not really ironic, just unusual, as is everything in my weird life. One hundred and twenty plus years of being a vampire, you think you'd get used to it.
And another thing, vampires aren't supposed to have emotions, so why do I feel like this. Why am I in love with the woman I was born to hate, and who was born to hate me back? Why, in these last few months had I formed a friendship with her? Sure, it was a rocky one, but a friendship, nonetheless. And why, WHY, do I feel so damn guilty for her death. Because that's why I'm here now, in number four of Sunnydale's seven cemeteries, I'm here to bury her.
Actually, not so much me, as her friends. They decided to hold in the daytime, which, fair enough, is what she deserved, but it also means that I couldn't say goodbye to her properly, that I'd have to wait till night to say it. But, still, here I am, nestled under a tree, one hundred yards away from where her friends; her family, are standing, waiting for the priest to come and say the words I had pleaded with him to say. I wrote them myself and then asked him to speak the words I could never say out loud. He agreed, after some persuasion.
Even though I'm so far away, I can still hear everything that's going on, thanks to my nifty vamp hearing. Xander and Anya are talking quietly to themselves, saying nonsense things that have no meaning, Anya trying desperately to comfort the poor sod. Tara is somewhat in the back round, ready to lend a shoulder to cry on for anyone who needs it. And Willow and Dawn, God, they're crying hard, with both their heads bowed on either side of Giles' shoulder, whom, while trying to comfort the two distraught ladies, is also trying to control his own tears. And just then, I wish I was over there, ready and willing, but perhaps not able, to say the words that would make it all better. To be the shoulder that they can cry on. But I know I can't. They wouldn't want me there, she wouldn't want me there, and that hurts more than I care to acknowledge.
The priest's coming up now, offering his condolences before he starts the ceremony. And only just now have I realized how real this is. That's she's actually dead. That I could've saved her and I didn't. That it was really all my fault. No wonder they don't want me there.
"We gather here today, both friends and family, to mourn the loss of one Buffy Anne Summers.
"Born in 1981, Buffy was a true hero, through and through. With acts of bravery and love, she saved her friends, and the world, more than one time, in more than one scenario, in many different ways. She was like a star, to all who knew her, guiding and leading them with her brightness, leaving footprints on their hearts. No one will ever know what she did for us, for the world. And we thank God that He put a creature such as her on this planet, just so the people she touched could be blessed with the knowledge that an angel had entered their lives, even if for a short period of time. Because that was what she was, an angel, nothing short of a miracle.
We were truly lucky to know her.
And that is why it will be so hard to let her go. She was young, and why God felt the need to take her away, we will never know, and we can only hope that she will move on to Heaven, where she belongs."
I saw the Scoobies' faces as the priest said that last statement. Through all the grief, I saw that they thought she wasn't in Heaven, they thought she was in Hell. Which is a damn right lie. I know it. I have to believe that she's in that one special place I can never go to. She deserves that, at least. She may have jumped into a Hell dimension, but God would never let a hero like that suffer.
I tuned out as the priest said the official part of the ceremony, the part with the bible and all that rot. It didn't mean anything to me, anyway. I mean, when I was human I was a fairly good Catholic, went to Church and all that. But when someone becomes a vampire, and can no longer carry a crucifix or a bible, or can no longer walk into a Church, you tend to give up on the praying and junk. Especially when you know you'll never get into heaven; it puts a damper on things.
Still, it was tradition. So, I nestled in further into the safety of my tree, and instead listened to the sounds around me.
Some birds were chirping away above me, singing a little song, filling the air with their sweet harmony. Buffy once told me she loved waking up early, just to hear the birds sing, it was one of her favourite noises, and soon became one of mine too. I closed my eyes and listened to the soft chirping, my mind drifting off to the better moments Buffy and me had shared, however few and far between they were. It actually usually sprung out of her being upset about something, didn't matter what, and she would come to me, tell me what was wrong. Sometimes she'd cry on my shoulder, sometimes she beat me, and I'd let her, just to make her feel better, and then afterwards, we would talk. We would talk about everything and anything. I told her things from my past and she told me things from hers. It was strange too, because, while I was supposed to be comforting her, she was really making me feel better too. Just her presence there, if only for a minute, was enough to keep me going for a lifetime. That's really why I wrote what I wrote for the ceremony. All of it was from the heart; it didn't matter that it wasn't beating.
I would have done anything for that girl, you know? Moved heaven and earth, if it would please her. Hell, I'd even stake myself if she asked me, I loved her more than anything else in the entire world. She literally was the only reason I was still on this earth. Never in my entire life, both human and vampire, had I loved someone as much as her. Sure, I had infatuations that I thought were love. I did love Drusilla.
But there was something about that girl, something that made me want to give up my ways and help her, turn my back on everything I knew. Such power in such a small body. It was amazing.
"May her eternal light shine on. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust."
The priest's final words brought me out of my now constant daydreaming. I opened my eyes to see her coffin being lowered into the ground with those pulleys that they use nowadays.
It was then that I noticed that I was crying. I seldom ever cried anymore, so it was a shock to feel the tears running down my cheeks. Normally I would have wiped them away, hoping that no one had seen, after all, I still had a reputation to uphold. But today, I didn't care, so I didn't bother to wipe them away, and they flowed freely down my face. It was a sign of my grief.
They finished lowering the coffin into the ground, and the priest, after apologizing once again for the loss, walked away, along with the men whom had helped with the coffin. That left only the Scoobies there now. They were all looking at the rectangle shaped hole that held prisoner the body of their beloved friend.
They're all standing around, no one saying a word. I know what they're feeling, because I feel it too. More than you could possibly imagine, and more than I would like to.
The overwhelming grief almost makes me walk those three steps toward sunlight, and mix my ashes with her body. But no, I made a promise, to a lady. I didn't fulfill it when I could, but nothing could be done about that. But I did say to the end of the world, and I meant it.
Dawn, she is what is keeping me here now, on this God forsaken planet, where everything withers and dies, and nothing is ever simple.
I broke my promise once; I wasn't about to do it again. So, if the Scoobies liked it or not, I was going to help the Nibblet, I would protect her, care for her, and comfort her.
Funny, ain't it? The big Bad, former Scourge of Europe, protecting a young girl that, to any other vamp, could be an easy meal.
To tell you the truth, if a few years ago someone had said that was how I'd end up I'd have laughed in their face and then snapped their neck, still laughing.
Now, it doesn't seem that absurd.
Movement then, out of the corner of my eye. It's the Watcher. He's left the two distraught girls alone, leaving them to find comfort in each other instead. He's moved towards the grave in that sort of slow motion way that you only ever see in movies.
I see him take something out of his jacket pocket, and have to strain my eyes to actually see what it is. For their part, the Scoobies look surprised, at least I know this wasn't another thing they had planned but didn't tell me about.
It almost makes me chuckle as I recognise the object. Buffy had told me about it once, given to her as a gift from that slayer, Kendra. Mr. Pointy, she had called it. I had laughed when she told me the name, but damn, that thing was sharp, as the name suggests. I should know, Buffy planted it in my stomach when I had scoffed at it. She seemed to love the thing; she always took it with her on patrols but never actually used it.
The Watcher bent down, and reached as far as he can to place it on the coffin lid before the men come to fill the hole up. His jacket gets dirty, I realise, but he doesn't seem to notice, instead choosing to look down at the coffin, he doesn't say a word, and I'm surprised to see tears flow down his cheeks, he always seemed so strong, he did. I'd never expect he would let anyone see him cry, yet, here he was. It was sickening to see that he was like me in that sense.
He got back up after a few moments, finally noticing to stains on his new suit, carelessly wiping them away with the palms of his hands.
He turned back to the rest of the group, a somber expression etched on a face looking ten times older with the grief and worry and the resignment.
I knew it was over then, nothing more could be said.
I remained in my spot as they all walked off in separate directions to their cars to drive home. I didn't have to stay there, I knew. I could've easily ran home to the crypt, but I didn't want to, not yet.
I don't know how long I stayed under that tree. Eight hours, maybe more. All I know is that when I finally looked up at my surroundings, the sun had set, and a beautiful full moon lit up the sky. I don't even remember what I was thinking about for so long, I don't think I even was thinking.
I finally saw my chance to say goodbye though. So quietly, slowly, I crept up to the grave, now having been filled and the headstone placed.
Buffy Anne Summers
1981 - 2001
Beloved sister
Devoted friend
She saved the world
A lot
R.I.P
So there it was, haunting words staring up at me from the cold marble of which they were etched into. It was simple, but somehow beautifully fitting. Leaning down, I placed a soft kiss on my fingers, touching them gently to the cool, smooth stone, reminding myself to pick up some flowers for her some time.
At a loss for words, now being this close, I contented myself with sitting there, watching the headstone, memories flooding back as I did.
I stayed there for another few hours, until the smell of sunrise caught my senses and I stood up, ready to leave.
"I'll see you again soon, pet." I whispered as I stood. I knew I could never fulfill that promise, but it made me feel better. Warming me, despite the bitter cold the weather had seemed to turn to.
I left the graveyard then, feeling a little lighter regardless of the day's happenings.
Over my shoulder, a sad smile appearing on my face in spite of myself, I whispered;
"Rest in peace, love. Rest in peace."
Distribution: Sure, just tell me where it's going
Disclaimer: You know it doesn't belong to me, I just play with them sometimes
Reviews: Are always welcome :) Good and bad.
Rest In Peace
Who knew a person could get so sick of a cemetery, eh?
Ok, I admit, a sore attempt at humour, but what else can I say? I've buried too many people in my life, and each time, it gets harder. You know, they say that time heals all wounds. What a bunch of crap. If anything, time only makes it worse.
And now, bloody hell, now, I live in damn crypt. In a bloody cemetery. The one place I actually hate, is the place where I reside. That's irony for you. Actually, when I think about it, it's not really ironic, just unusual, as is everything in my weird life. One hundred and twenty plus years of being a vampire, you think you'd get used to it.
And another thing, vampires aren't supposed to have emotions, so why do I feel like this. Why am I in love with the woman I was born to hate, and who was born to hate me back? Why, in these last few months had I formed a friendship with her? Sure, it was a rocky one, but a friendship, nonetheless. And why, WHY, do I feel so damn guilty for her death. Because that's why I'm here now, in number four of Sunnydale's seven cemeteries, I'm here to bury her.
Actually, not so much me, as her friends. They decided to hold in the daytime, which, fair enough, is what she deserved, but it also means that I couldn't say goodbye to her properly, that I'd have to wait till night to say it. But, still, here I am, nestled under a tree, one hundred yards away from where her friends; her family, are standing, waiting for the priest to come and say the words I had pleaded with him to say. I wrote them myself and then asked him to speak the words I could never say out loud. He agreed, after some persuasion.
Even though I'm so far away, I can still hear everything that's going on, thanks to my nifty vamp hearing. Xander and Anya are talking quietly to themselves, saying nonsense things that have no meaning, Anya trying desperately to comfort the poor sod. Tara is somewhat in the back round, ready to lend a shoulder to cry on for anyone who needs it. And Willow and Dawn, God, they're crying hard, with both their heads bowed on either side of Giles' shoulder, whom, while trying to comfort the two distraught ladies, is also trying to control his own tears. And just then, I wish I was over there, ready and willing, but perhaps not able, to say the words that would make it all better. To be the shoulder that they can cry on. But I know I can't. They wouldn't want me there, she wouldn't want me there, and that hurts more than I care to acknowledge.
The priest's coming up now, offering his condolences before he starts the ceremony. And only just now have I realized how real this is. That's she's actually dead. That I could've saved her and I didn't. That it was really all my fault. No wonder they don't want me there.
"We gather here today, both friends and family, to mourn the loss of one Buffy Anne Summers.
"Born in 1981, Buffy was a true hero, through and through. With acts of bravery and love, she saved her friends, and the world, more than one time, in more than one scenario, in many different ways. She was like a star, to all who knew her, guiding and leading them with her brightness, leaving footprints on their hearts. No one will ever know what she did for us, for the world. And we thank God that He put a creature such as her on this planet, just so the people she touched could be blessed with the knowledge that an angel had entered their lives, even if for a short period of time. Because that was what she was, an angel, nothing short of a miracle.
We were truly lucky to know her.
And that is why it will be so hard to let her go. She was young, and why God felt the need to take her away, we will never know, and we can only hope that she will move on to Heaven, where she belongs."
I saw the Scoobies' faces as the priest said that last statement. Through all the grief, I saw that they thought she wasn't in Heaven, they thought she was in Hell. Which is a damn right lie. I know it. I have to believe that she's in that one special place I can never go to. She deserves that, at least. She may have jumped into a Hell dimension, but God would never let a hero like that suffer.
I tuned out as the priest said the official part of the ceremony, the part with the bible and all that rot. It didn't mean anything to me, anyway. I mean, when I was human I was a fairly good Catholic, went to Church and all that. But when someone becomes a vampire, and can no longer carry a crucifix or a bible, or can no longer walk into a Church, you tend to give up on the praying and junk. Especially when you know you'll never get into heaven; it puts a damper on things.
Still, it was tradition. So, I nestled in further into the safety of my tree, and instead listened to the sounds around me.
Some birds were chirping away above me, singing a little song, filling the air with their sweet harmony. Buffy once told me she loved waking up early, just to hear the birds sing, it was one of her favourite noises, and soon became one of mine too. I closed my eyes and listened to the soft chirping, my mind drifting off to the better moments Buffy and me had shared, however few and far between they were. It actually usually sprung out of her being upset about something, didn't matter what, and she would come to me, tell me what was wrong. Sometimes she'd cry on my shoulder, sometimes she beat me, and I'd let her, just to make her feel better, and then afterwards, we would talk. We would talk about everything and anything. I told her things from my past and she told me things from hers. It was strange too, because, while I was supposed to be comforting her, she was really making me feel better too. Just her presence there, if only for a minute, was enough to keep me going for a lifetime. That's really why I wrote what I wrote for the ceremony. All of it was from the heart; it didn't matter that it wasn't beating.
I would have done anything for that girl, you know? Moved heaven and earth, if it would please her. Hell, I'd even stake myself if she asked me, I loved her more than anything else in the entire world. She literally was the only reason I was still on this earth. Never in my entire life, both human and vampire, had I loved someone as much as her. Sure, I had infatuations that I thought were love. I did love Drusilla.
But there was something about that girl, something that made me want to give up my ways and help her, turn my back on everything I knew. Such power in such a small body. It was amazing.
"May her eternal light shine on. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust."
The priest's final words brought me out of my now constant daydreaming. I opened my eyes to see her coffin being lowered into the ground with those pulleys that they use nowadays.
It was then that I noticed that I was crying. I seldom ever cried anymore, so it was a shock to feel the tears running down my cheeks. Normally I would have wiped them away, hoping that no one had seen, after all, I still had a reputation to uphold. But today, I didn't care, so I didn't bother to wipe them away, and they flowed freely down my face. It was a sign of my grief.
They finished lowering the coffin into the ground, and the priest, after apologizing once again for the loss, walked away, along with the men whom had helped with the coffin. That left only the Scoobies there now. They were all looking at the rectangle shaped hole that held prisoner the body of their beloved friend.
They're all standing around, no one saying a word. I know what they're feeling, because I feel it too. More than you could possibly imagine, and more than I would like to.
The overwhelming grief almost makes me walk those three steps toward sunlight, and mix my ashes with her body. But no, I made a promise, to a lady. I didn't fulfill it when I could, but nothing could be done about that. But I did say to the end of the world, and I meant it.
Dawn, she is what is keeping me here now, on this God forsaken planet, where everything withers and dies, and nothing is ever simple.
I broke my promise once; I wasn't about to do it again. So, if the Scoobies liked it or not, I was going to help the Nibblet, I would protect her, care for her, and comfort her.
Funny, ain't it? The big Bad, former Scourge of Europe, protecting a young girl that, to any other vamp, could be an easy meal.
To tell you the truth, if a few years ago someone had said that was how I'd end up I'd have laughed in their face and then snapped their neck, still laughing.
Now, it doesn't seem that absurd.
Movement then, out of the corner of my eye. It's the Watcher. He's left the two distraught girls alone, leaving them to find comfort in each other instead. He's moved towards the grave in that sort of slow motion way that you only ever see in movies.
I see him take something out of his jacket pocket, and have to strain my eyes to actually see what it is. For their part, the Scoobies look surprised, at least I know this wasn't another thing they had planned but didn't tell me about.
It almost makes me chuckle as I recognise the object. Buffy had told me about it once, given to her as a gift from that slayer, Kendra. Mr. Pointy, she had called it. I had laughed when she told me the name, but damn, that thing was sharp, as the name suggests. I should know, Buffy planted it in my stomach when I had scoffed at it. She seemed to love the thing; she always took it with her on patrols but never actually used it.
The Watcher bent down, and reached as far as he can to place it on the coffin lid before the men come to fill the hole up. His jacket gets dirty, I realise, but he doesn't seem to notice, instead choosing to look down at the coffin, he doesn't say a word, and I'm surprised to see tears flow down his cheeks, he always seemed so strong, he did. I'd never expect he would let anyone see him cry, yet, here he was. It was sickening to see that he was like me in that sense.
He got back up after a few moments, finally noticing to stains on his new suit, carelessly wiping them away with the palms of his hands.
He turned back to the rest of the group, a somber expression etched on a face looking ten times older with the grief and worry and the resignment.
I knew it was over then, nothing more could be said.
I remained in my spot as they all walked off in separate directions to their cars to drive home. I didn't have to stay there, I knew. I could've easily ran home to the crypt, but I didn't want to, not yet.
I don't know how long I stayed under that tree. Eight hours, maybe more. All I know is that when I finally looked up at my surroundings, the sun had set, and a beautiful full moon lit up the sky. I don't even remember what I was thinking about for so long, I don't think I even was thinking.
I finally saw my chance to say goodbye though. So quietly, slowly, I crept up to the grave, now having been filled and the headstone placed.
Buffy Anne Summers
1981 - 2001
Beloved sister
Devoted friend
She saved the world
A lot
R.I.P
So there it was, haunting words staring up at me from the cold marble of which they were etched into. It was simple, but somehow beautifully fitting. Leaning down, I placed a soft kiss on my fingers, touching them gently to the cool, smooth stone, reminding myself to pick up some flowers for her some time.
At a loss for words, now being this close, I contented myself with sitting there, watching the headstone, memories flooding back as I did.
I stayed there for another few hours, until the smell of sunrise caught my senses and I stood up, ready to leave.
"I'll see you again soon, pet." I whispered as I stood. I knew I could never fulfill that promise, but it made me feel better. Warming me, despite the bitter cold the weather had seemed to turn to.
I left the graveyard then, feeling a little lighter regardless of the day's happenings.
Over my shoulder, a sad smile appearing on my face in spite of myself, I whispered;
"Rest in peace, love. Rest in peace."