For Good or Bad, The Memories Remain.
Chapter 27
Disclaimer- I don't own Buffy, I just use her in my writing, just for fun, never for profit "Cause that's wrong!"
Spoilers- mid 4th season then everything takes a left turn off the charted path
Rating- May get to R eventually
She stood on the grass under the elm tree, staring at the tombstone, the freshly disturbed dirt contrasting with the deep green of lush grass. She stared at the stone, trying to listen, hear it speak to her as it once did long ago, back when it spelled out a surrendering of emotion, a forfeiture of caring. She had buried herself twice here; once when she had given up on herself and once again in a desperate attempt to recover her humanity. She knew if she were to dig more than she did the other night, she would find the trunk with the full trappings of what she was trying to escape. She had sold herself out for a long time, overriding the need to protect, and giving in to the need to destroy. It didn't matter much, she still destroyed 'bad things' i.e. drug dealers, pimps, loan sharks, but it wasn't about the need to make the world better, it was about the joy of the fight. She never felt a need to try and involve herself in 'the game' but she never shirked a fight during this time. Looking back on it now, she could see it as seriously self destructive. She had wanted to die, but the Slayer in her couldn't surrender. She knew exactly how Faith felt, isn't that ironic. She had been in the same place and wanted the same thing, but her unremembering self couldn't see it. Faith wanted to die; she wanted to stop the pain and emptiness. It was a poison buried deep in the soul, and Faith didn't know how to deal with it. Hell, why should a 15 year old have the answer when a 700 year old uber-bitch didn't know. She knew he was right, she had poisoned everything and everyone she touched. Her selfishness drove Faith to the very thing she herself was trying to escape, she destroyed Willow's life so utterly , she may as well have outright killed her, it would be less damning, She gutted Tara emotionally, programmed Sasha into her own little Vengeance Slayer, killed countless innocents through either her actions or inaction. I have become a tool of death, death's Mistress, so I shall take his name like any good wife. She remembers the day she made that statement, felt its truth in the very marrow of her bones. She had tried to cheat him, get away from his cold embrace, return to the beginning, return to the pure path, return to Slaying the demons and vampires. She tried to put all the rest behind her, but it crept to the surface, like a body underwater rises as the rot and bloat pull it up. She remembered the day she surrendered to vengeance and anger, it was right after she got back from visiting Johneen. She had been placed in an asylum, living in a straight jacket. The task of remaining pure to the cause had taken its toll on her sanity. She came back to Sunnyhell, arranged a convenient Slayer death scene, buried her past, along with her faith, hope and humanity in the grave provided by her current Watcher, got onto her horse and went forth as a herald of death. When that phase had burned itself trough her soul, she tried to return to the proverbial , if not litteral, beginging. Her village in the Carpathian mountains didn't exist any more, but here in Sunnyhell was the where she abandoned the path. It was here she tried to return, and what a fucked up mess she made of that. She sits on the grave, leaning against the stone, her eyes closed in contemplation.
"Maybe it would be better if I just let one of them win. Maybe Sasha. The longer I go on, the less good I do, the more I destroy. Maybe its time to end it."
To Be Continued
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