Disclaimer: Buffyverse belongs to Joss. Story belongs to me.
Summary: A short fic centred on Buffy and the events of Season 5. Set
around the time of Gone/Doublemeat Palace. Please R&R. S/B.
A.N. Angsty. Written with Sacrifice playing (The Gift music). *cries*
*******
Every night, Buffy watches her. A thread of light from the unclosed curtains shining on her pillow, creating shadows on her face. Sometimes she seems to sense the Slayer's presence and wriggles further under her duvet, long brown hair spread out around her almost like a halo that reminds Buffy of her innocence. Dawn's eyelids flutter slightly and she is so peaceful that sometimes her sister is envious. One small girl. Buffy hadn't been willing to let her go, even if it meant forsaking the world's future. She wants so badly to be able to touch Dawn, to brush away a strand of hair and kiss her forehead. A simple gesture to show that yes, she cares. But she's numb. Every part of her is frozen.
Here, she is dead. She gave her world so that her sister could live and Dawn couldn't even do it without her. And now Buffy felt deader than she had where she had been. Where it had been quiet, warmth enveloping her and where she was at peace.
Here, she is an animated corpse. Like him.
Smiles and jokes are all a façade. Inside she is hollow, every breath burning her insides but she can't scream. Every moment her heart wrenches at the thought of what she was forced to leave behind. Shouldn't she feel alive now? Watching the thing she loved most on this earth, a beautiful young woman carved out of her own blood and bone? And she felt alive.the only time her skin hummed.when she was with Spike. A dead body. Buffy had not overlooked the irony of it. She moves with him, wrapped around his ivory skin and when he kisses her he tastes her hurt, her sorrow. For that split second he has swallowed it for her and she's fine. Part of her believes for that moment that she can go on. And then they fall, tangled together, both of their faces stained with her tears.
She cries now. Silently, tears fall. She opens her mouth and tastes the salt. Scared to wake her, Buffy steps back, the lump in her throat large and she's taking in shuddery gasps because she can't breathe.
As she had fallen through the portal, energy cracking and furious, she had missed Dawn. The power had burnt her skin, but inside her gut was wrenching. Buffy had been certain that she would never see her again. But she had been lifted up from the ground where she landed, temple bloodied and bruised and she had felt her sister with her, held her close. She had been closer to Dawnie than she was now.
She shuts the door behind her, and creeps downstairs, careful not to wake Willow. She heads out of the door, stepping into the quiet darkness. He's waiting for her. Waiting to taste her pain again.
A.N. Angsty. Written with Sacrifice playing (The Gift music). *cries*
*******
Every night, Buffy watches her. A thread of light from the unclosed curtains shining on her pillow, creating shadows on her face. Sometimes she seems to sense the Slayer's presence and wriggles further under her duvet, long brown hair spread out around her almost like a halo that reminds Buffy of her innocence. Dawn's eyelids flutter slightly and she is so peaceful that sometimes her sister is envious. One small girl. Buffy hadn't been willing to let her go, even if it meant forsaking the world's future. She wants so badly to be able to touch Dawn, to brush away a strand of hair and kiss her forehead. A simple gesture to show that yes, she cares. But she's numb. Every part of her is frozen.
Here, she is dead. She gave her world so that her sister could live and Dawn couldn't even do it without her. And now Buffy felt deader than she had where she had been. Where it had been quiet, warmth enveloping her and where she was at peace.
Here, she is an animated corpse. Like him.
Smiles and jokes are all a façade. Inside she is hollow, every breath burning her insides but she can't scream. Every moment her heart wrenches at the thought of what she was forced to leave behind. Shouldn't she feel alive now? Watching the thing she loved most on this earth, a beautiful young woman carved out of her own blood and bone? And she felt alive.the only time her skin hummed.when she was with Spike. A dead body. Buffy had not overlooked the irony of it. She moves with him, wrapped around his ivory skin and when he kisses her he tastes her hurt, her sorrow. For that split second he has swallowed it for her and she's fine. Part of her believes for that moment that she can go on. And then they fall, tangled together, both of their faces stained with her tears.
She cries now. Silently, tears fall. She opens her mouth and tastes the salt. Scared to wake her, Buffy steps back, the lump in her throat large and she's taking in shuddery gasps because she can't breathe.
As she had fallen through the portal, energy cracking and furious, she had missed Dawn. The power had burnt her skin, but inside her gut was wrenching. Buffy had been certain that she would never see her again. But she had been lifted up from the ground where she landed, temple bloodied and bruised and she had felt her sister with her, held her close. She had been closer to Dawnie than she was now.
She shuts the door behind her, and creeps downstairs, careful not to wake Willow. She heads out of the door, stepping into the quiet darkness. He's waiting for her. Waiting to taste her pain again.