In which Buffy's still dead. But you know little that actually means in the Buffyverse.
Angel? Time to wake up.
Where was he? Dark, dank, stone slabs... a crypt. Another dead place, right, you never run out of those. Literally; as he looked around, he realised there wasn't a door. And he wasn't alone.
She was just a shadow, barely visible, lying on top of a large sarcophagus. As she seductively turned over on her side he caught a glimpse of golden hair and somehow he knew she was smiling at him.
"Buffy?" No answer. "...Darla?"
Can't even tell us apart anymore, huh? She sounded like two women laughing at once; one young, one very old. And the voices weren't coming from her, they were... everywhere. Not that it made any difference... I mean, we're both dead.
"You saved me... I'm so sorry I couldn't do the same for you."
Oh, but you saved so many, I mean that's gotta count for something right? Handsome broody man saves damsels from monsters... Faces flashed before him, a long line of people he barely recognised anymore... Funny how it was always easier to remember the ones he'd killed. All of them are alive because of you. Does that make up for not saving me? Even after they brought me back? You said you loved me, Angel, but where were you? I begged for your help, I waited, but you never... A slight shift, the girlish voice growing huskier, more sensual. ...you never loved her anymore than you loved me, did you Angelus? You loved what she made of you, what she gave you... just like me.
"No. I love -"
Who?
"I love you, Buffy, and I would have given anything to help you..."
Laughter. Angel, the easiest thing in this world is to die, between the three of us we've done it enough times to know that you don't need any help with that. You keep on saving those who don't matter...
"They all matter. Every single one."
That
what you keep telling yourself? Buffy's
voice again, mostly. Because I gotta say, Champ, I don't see you
torturing yourself like this over, oh, say... Miss Calendar, or
officer Lockley, or any of the thousands of others you killed or
allowed to die. It's always me, the one who made something of you,
gave you a purpose... yet you couldn't save me from
(Wolfram & Hart)
(The
Master)
(Drusilla)
(Glory)
(You)
(Me)
And
no matter what you do, no matter how many people you rescue, no
matter how much you sacrifice, you'll never be able to change that.
In the end, you're always alone, right here with us.
She stepped into the thin
shaft of light coming from the ceiling, and he saw her face... what
was left of it. Just death, bone and decay, and no matter how hard he
looked he couldn't tell who she was now. Their voices were one and
the same, echoing and doubling in his head. Come on, lover... give
us a kiss.
"This isn't real. It's just a dream."
Oh, of course. Just keep telling yourself that every time you close your eyes. After all, you have an eternity to practice.
"This is nice..." Willow leaned back into Tara's arms, gazing up at the cloudless summer sky. So warm, so soft, so right. Grass on skin, sun on skin, skin on skin. They'd gotten half-way through the picnic and the first bottle of wine before they'd decided they weren't that hungry after all... not for food, anyway. She wasn't sure how much later this was; the sun didn't seem to have moved at all.
"Sure is." Tara kissed her hair, and they sat like that for a while, two people in a vast field of green interrupted by a few small groves of trees. She thought it might be somewhere in England; she'd always wanted to go there. "Do you ever think about going back?"
"Back to where?" The question sounded simple enough, but none of them could think of an answer so they just let it lie. After all, they were in no hurry. They had all the time in the world to be together, they belonged to each other, and there was no one around to disturb them...
...except for that blonde girl standing over by the edge of the forest, watching them. Willow instinctively covered her nakedness and frowned.
"HEY! Do you mind? Some privacy here?"
But the girl just gave her a worried look, then nervously glanced around as if she wasn't so much watching them as watching over them. And also, there was something...
"Wait, do I know you?"
Willow was sure she'd never met her before, yet she seemed awfully familiar. When she stood up, somehow dressed again, and walked towards her the girl just looked at her one last time and stepped back into the thick woods surrounding their little glade. Willow felt torn, like she should be running after her... then turned around to see Tara sitting on the ground, hanging her head, close to tears.
"Tara..."
"No, I-I understand. You have to be with the person you..."
"But it's not like that, Tara, I love you, but she's..." What? Willow wasn't sure of anything anymore. But the sun was setting, and she heard something... saw something. There were shadows moving under the trees, and that girl was fighting them. And she was losing.
They were training again, in the back room of the Magic Box, trading jabs and gibes like so many times before. Buffy was her usual obstinately cheery self, pummeling his padded areas with the same face a child puts on when asked to do homework she secretly loves to do.
"You're telegraphing your punches again... Oh for Christ's sake, Buffy, pay atten-"
and she caught him square in the solar plexus, knocking the wind out of him completely. He felt like he couldn't breathe.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, did that hurt?"
He just wheezed and glared at her.
"Awww, poor watcher. Here, let's sit you down." She helped him over to the bench, and they sat there for a while as he caught his breath again.
"Giles... remember I asked you once if you thought it would hurt? Dying?" He nodded. That was one of the many things he would never forget. "It didn't, really. Much. If that helps." Of course it didn't, and neither did the smile she offered him. "Come on, Giles. I was a Slayer, dying young is pretty much in the job description. You kept me alive for, what, five years, not counting that thing with the Master? I mean, that's gotta be way above average."
"For a Slayer, yes."
"Well, there you go. You were a good watcher. Thanks to you, I was in the top 50 percent of slayerness."
"It's not enough. You deserved more."
"Well,
maybe you should have thought about that a bit sooner, dontchathink?"
She shot him an accusing stare
(You're a
killer)
then smiled
again. "I'm kidding, Giles. You know I don't blame you. Hey, you
did your job, and you did it just fine. I mean, it's not like you
could have done anything differently, right?"
Oh, just everything. "I guess not."
"See? C'mon, let's work out some more. Gotta keep you in shape for your next slayer. Hey, maybe you can keep her alive for even longer before you have her killed... kidding! Geez!"
It was the same dream she had every night. The top of the tower. The portal opening. Knowing she had to jump, and Buffy stopping her.
"Buffy... no..."
"Dawnie, I have to."
"No! DON'T!" Dawn grabbed at her, furious. "You always do this! You tell me some bullshit about being brave and living and then you kill yourself and leave me alone... right here. This is where you go away!"
Buffy smiled sadly. "No, Dawnie. This is where I come back."