Just Another
Author: Lisa
Pairing: Riley (B/R implied)
Status: Completed Vignette
Summary: Riley's thoughts on Buffy and their relationship
Disclaimer: Own nothing, though if you know if they're selling, I'm more than willing to buy.
It's not very often that I pull out the wrinkled, bent picture of her. In the beginning, it was permanently stuck between my fingers or in my vest pocket. It was my strength, to make it through the day and the day after that. I'd pull it out every spare moment I had, but as the months went by, I quit taking it out as much. It hurt too much to think about what could've been, if things hadn't happened in such a destructive manner.
There's a trail of mistakes from here to Sunnydale that brought us to the point of my leaving. Pain, that's at times unbearable and wounds that will never heal. I'd like to think that she hurt me more because of the wall that guarded her heart or the fact that she didn't come to me the night our relationship shattered into a million pieces. Though, deep down, I know the truth. I knew that she was damaged and hurt from past relationships. Knew that she'd never fully give her whole heart to anyone… ever.
I should've picked up what she meant when she told me I wasn't looking hard enough to see the bruises. They weren't physical, her Slayer strength wouldn't allow for it. The cuts, bruises and scars were all emotional. She was scared and I was far too stubborn to look at the situation from her view. She wasn't used to having the men in her life stick around very long. From her perspective, I was just another guy who'd leave when things got too hard or a crisis from the Hellmouth arose.
It's exactly what I did when push came to shove; I left her. Don't know how long it was after I departed that I got word from Xander that Mrs. Summers had passed away.
At least I didn't disappoint her pre-conceived expectations about men who leave. I was just another great guy who came wandering into her life, filling her head with promises of the future and happy times, only to leave when things didn't turn out as planned.
When it came to Buffy, she broke every rule and I was constantly trying to adjust and match her step. Even though I was always a couple of steps behind, I was happy just to be with her.
I don't know when I lost that love. When did I toss her feelings away like dirty rags and force all of mine to take center stage. When did I decide to ignore the web of complications in her life and try to turn it into a life of simplicity, something that wasn't Buffy and never would be. Her life doesn't know the meaning of simplicity.
Losing her was the lowest point of my life and, since then, I've felt numb inside. I'd give everything just to have her back. To watch her fight again, to hold her and tell her that I love her; that I don't care about anything in the past. I'd grovel and beg for forgiveness for hurting her and I'd promise that I wouldn't ever be just another guy that left her. I know it's pointless to wish because I'll never step foot in Sunnydale again. I lost my chance, the damage has been done and she's been too burnt for a second go-round.
I'd like to think that, one day, I'd settle down, back in Iowa, and start a family. That I'd meet a girl, have some wild adventures and then settle into a family routine, but in the pit of my stomach, I know it won't happen. I could never be happy with second place and anyone other than Buffy would be just that. So instead, I'll continue what I've been doing for the last couple of months – demon-hunting throughout the world. I'll fight the fight and hope that one day I'll wake up and won't have her tear-stained face etched in my mind.
I slide the picture back into my vest pocket, but not before gently brushing my thumb across her face. I grab my gun and holler at the men to get ready to track the Volcar demon we've been hunting for the last seventy-two hours.
