Author: Asrai
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de
Rating: R
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 18 - Free
*Lying sprawled all over the couch, Buffy zapped through all the channels Thomas's TV had to offer and finally settled on a quiz show for a few minutes before switching it off completely. She sighed, stretched and fell off the couch.
"Youch!" she muttered, standing up and rubbing her back. She snapped her gum loudly and went looking for her watcher; she found him in the working room - or torture chamber, as Buffy used to call it, because the room contained more books than one normal human being could possibly read - writing something.
"Hey!" she greeted him, "What're you doing?"
Thomas looked up and smiled distractedly, "Nothing important. You should sleep, Buffy, you need rest. Tonight's patrol was hard.
"Yes, dad," she replied, "D'you think we'll take that Lothos guy out soon? 'Cause, honestly? He's getting on my nerves."
"I can imagine that. Soon, Buffy, we're not quite ready yet."
"Okay. So, I'm gonna crash. Night."
"Good night."
Buffy close the door softly and leaned against it. She bit her lip, then nodded decidedly and went to her room. No matter what Thomas might say, tomorrow she was going to hunt Lothos down and make the guy sorry that his poor excuse for a carcass had ever risen out of the grave again.*
~~~
It hurts; I can't describe how much it hurts; Angelus is slowly drinking my life out of me and all I feel is the physical pain that's ripping through my body. My knees buckle and I sink slowly to the floor with Angel following me, holding me, gripping me so tight around my waist that I choke.
His other hand slowly travels down my throat; his fingertips dip inside my shirt and don't stop until they reach my left nipple; he pinches it and I moan out of pain because his teeth and his fingers do nothing but hurt me.
My view grows dim and I'm getting even more tired; must be the blood loss and that's probably to blame for the music that's playing somewhere far away, too. I gasp and it sounds like a sob; the music gets louder until it covers the slurping sounds Angel makes, until I realize that it's playing just in my head. A picture of Thomas appears in my mind, smiling at me and then pointing at my belly, saying, "Whatever do you need that thing for?"
My eyes suddenly snap open and the veil on my mind lifts a little. I slowly move my hands, praying that Angelus won't notice but he doesn't 'cause both his hands are caressing my breasts now and my own hands creep under my shirt until they encounter the solid blade, warmed by my body.
This seems to wake me up completely from my daze and I pull together every bit of strength I've got left, take out the knife and twist my body so quickly that Angel loses his balance and his teeth and hands are ripped away from my body; I don't hesitate, plunge my knife deeply into his heart and twist.
Everything's silent for a moment until Angelus licks his blood stained lips and makes a smacking sound.
"This won't kill me," he wheezes and I jerk the knife out and ram it into his belly; he groans loudly and shudders.
"I know," I say quietly, "But it'll hurt like hell."
So this is how it ends; blood which is not his own slowly starts to stain his shirt and turns it red and I notice that its original color is such a very, very white that it seems almost translucent; I curl my lips 'cause I'm feeling sick now. Sick and weak and I want to sleep so badly.
It ends now, though; nothing of this re-souling crap. I'll drive a stake into Angel's bleeding heart and I'll watch his ashes until I fall asleep and perhaps we can meet in my dreams without all the guilt and pain.
I take out the stake that I tucked into my boot after last night's patrol and feel the cool wood in my hand. And I say all the silent good-byes as I raise it and I feel a part of myself preparing to die with him when his eyes snap open and he screams. His eyes glow for a moment, they glow yellow, amber and golden and I think that this is what a soul looks like.
And then he screams again and I cradle his head in my arms and wait until he weakly asks, "Buffy? What happened?"
I kiss his forehead and manage to smile, "I'll explain later. Sleep, Angel."
His eyes flutter closed as he faints.
It's over.
~~~
How I make it back to Giles's house I'll never remember; but I do, with Angel slung over my shoulder and I'm glad I don't remember because I know that as I reach my destination I'm so weak that I can hardly hold myself on my feet and dawn's near and there's dried tear tracks on my cheeks. I cried again and my eyes just hurt so much.
I knock and fall on my knees just as Giles opens the door; he catches Angel and exclaims, "Buffy!"
I look up at him blearily, "Hey, Watch-Man."
Giles calls Xander and Oz who carry Angel inside and I just bring myself into a sitting position and lean my head on the door frame.
"Buffy, are you alright?" he asks me and I nod.
"Can you just get me. some water and. an aspirin?" I manage to say and he disappears quickly. I close my eyes and I'm glad that my pony tail opened 'cause now my hair covers my neck and the bite mark on it.
It's over, I tell myself; I won.
Giles returns with a glass of water and some pills , and I gulp them down all at once and cough.
"Thanks."
"Do come in, Buffy, you look, um, like a walking corpse."
"I am a walking corpse," I mutter and slowly get up. I wave away his hands that want to help me and stand on my own wobbly feet.
"See? I'm fine, everything's peachy. Jenny and Willow can pop the corks now, the curse worked."
I groan as every single one of my muscles seem to scream with pain, "Angel got a little sliced and diced though. Sorry 'bout that. How's Faith?"
Giles musters me with a concerned look and I do my best not to look like I've beaten up and sucked half-dry.
"Faith turned up an hour ago," he says, "She's sleeping now- her, well, her story needs some explaining which I hope you can provide- a-after you've rested, of course," he adds hastily.
I wave my hand, "Yeah, whatever. I'm gonna hit the sack now. Say hi to the rest for me."
I turn around and he calls after me, "B-but where are you going? You can't, in your state, it's really-"
"Watch-Man," I interrupt him, "I'll be just fine on my own. Believe me."
I walk away slowly form his house and out into the dawning day.
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de
Rating: R
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 18 - Free
*Lying sprawled all over the couch, Buffy zapped through all the channels Thomas's TV had to offer and finally settled on a quiz show for a few minutes before switching it off completely. She sighed, stretched and fell off the couch.
"Youch!" she muttered, standing up and rubbing her back. She snapped her gum loudly and went looking for her watcher; she found him in the working room - or torture chamber, as Buffy used to call it, because the room contained more books than one normal human being could possibly read - writing something.
"Hey!" she greeted him, "What're you doing?"
Thomas looked up and smiled distractedly, "Nothing important. You should sleep, Buffy, you need rest. Tonight's patrol was hard.
"Yes, dad," she replied, "D'you think we'll take that Lothos guy out soon? 'Cause, honestly? He's getting on my nerves."
"I can imagine that. Soon, Buffy, we're not quite ready yet."
"Okay. So, I'm gonna crash. Night."
"Good night."
Buffy close the door softly and leaned against it. She bit her lip, then nodded decidedly and went to her room. No matter what Thomas might say, tomorrow she was going to hunt Lothos down and make the guy sorry that his poor excuse for a carcass had ever risen out of the grave again.*
~~~
It hurts; I can't describe how much it hurts; Angelus is slowly drinking my life out of me and all I feel is the physical pain that's ripping through my body. My knees buckle and I sink slowly to the floor with Angel following me, holding me, gripping me so tight around my waist that I choke.
His other hand slowly travels down my throat; his fingertips dip inside my shirt and don't stop until they reach my left nipple; he pinches it and I moan out of pain because his teeth and his fingers do nothing but hurt me.
My view grows dim and I'm getting even more tired; must be the blood loss and that's probably to blame for the music that's playing somewhere far away, too. I gasp and it sounds like a sob; the music gets louder until it covers the slurping sounds Angel makes, until I realize that it's playing just in my head. A picture of Thomas appears in my mind, smiling at me and then pointing at my belly, saying, "Whatever do you need that thing for?"
My eyes suddenly snap open and the veil on my mind lifts a little. I slowly move my hands, praying that Angelus won't notice but he doesn't 'cause both his hands are caressing my breasts now and my own hands creep under my shirt until they encounter the solid blade, warmed by my body.
This seems to wake me up completely from my daze and I pull together every bit of strength I've got left, take out the knife and twist my body so quickly that Angel loses his balance and his teeth and hands are ripped away from my body; I don't hesitate, plunge my knife deeply into his heart and twist.
Everything's silent for a moment until Angelus licks his blood stained lips and makes a smacking sound.
"This won't kill me," he wheezes and I jerk the knife out and ram it into his belly; he groans loudly and shudders.
"I know," I say quietly, "But it'll hurt like hell."
So this is how it ends; blood which is not his own slowly starts to stain his shirt and turns it red and I notice that its original color is such a very, very white that it seems almost translucent; I curl my lips 'cause I'm feeling sick now. Sick and weak and I want to sleep so badly.
It ends now, though; nothing of this re-souling crap. I'll drive a stake into Angel's bleeding heart and I'll watch his ashes until I fall asleep and perhaps we can meet in my dreams without all the guilt and pain.
I take out the stake that I tucked into my boot after last night's patrol and feel the cool wood in my hand. And I say all the silent good-byes as I raise it and I feel a part of myself preparing to die with him when his eyes snap open and he screams. His eyes glow for a moment, they glow yellow, amber and golden and I think that this is what a soul looks like.
And then he screams again and I cradle his head in my arms and wait until he weakly asks, "Buffy? What happened?"
I kiss his forehead and manage to smile, "I'll explain later. Sleep, Angel."
His eyes flutter closed as he faints.
It's over.
~~~
How I make it back to Giles's house I'll never remember; but I do, with Angel slung over my shoulder and I'm glad I don't remember because I know that as I reach my destination I'm so weak that I can hardly hold myself on my feet and dawn's near and there's dried tear tracks on my cheeks. I cried again and my eyes just hurt so much.
I knock and fall on my knees just as Giles opens the door; he catches Angel and exclaims, "Buffy!"
I look up at him blearily, "Hey, Watch-Man."
Giles calls Xander and Oz who carry Angel inside and I just bring myself into a sitting position and lean my head on the door frame.
"Buffy, are you alright?" he asks me and I nod.
"Can you just get me. some water and. an aspirin?" I manage to say and he disappears quickly. I close my eyes and I'm glad that my pony tail opened 'cause now my hair covers my neck and the bite mark on it.
It's over, I tell myself; I won.
Giles returns with a glass of water and some pills , and I gulp them down all at once and cough.
"Thanks."
"Do come in, Buffy, you look, um, like a walking corpse."
"I am a walking corpse," I mutter and slowly get up. I wave away his hands that want to help me and stand on my own wobbly feet.
"See? I'm fine, everything's peachy. Jenny and Willow can pop the corks now, the curse worked."
I groan as every single one of my muscles seem to scream with pain, "Angel got a little sliced and diced though. Sorry 'bout that. How's Faith?"
Giles musters me with a concerned look and I do my best not to look like I've beaten up and sucked half-dry.
"Faith turned up an hour ago," he says, "She's sleeping now- her, well, her story needs some explaining which I hope you can provide- a-after you've rested, of course," he adds hastily.
I wave my hand, "Yeah, whatever. I'm gonna hit the sack now. Say hi to the rest for me."
I turn around and he calls after me, "B-but where are you going? You can't, in your state, it's really-"
"Watch-Man," I interrupt him, "I'll be just fine on my own. Believe me."
I walk away slowly form his house and out into the dawning day.