because nobody likes a vague disclaimer: Most characters belong to the fantastical Joss Whedon.

Buffy POV.

What you need to know: I posted this and realized it had some issues, so I deleted it. But here it is now, for real this time. Sorry bout that.

Chapter XIV: And My Eyes Cannot Hold The Tears That Memory Hoards From Vanished Years

For Time And Death And Mortal Pain Give Wounds That Will Not Heal Again

from I See Around Me Tombstones Grey by Emily Brontë

†

I'd almost considered staying in Tulsa permanently because I foolishly convinced myself that this was the start I had been looking for, until the night everything went wrong, and reality slapped me in the face, as it usually tended to do.

I'd found a job at a cafe, and from my experience with waitressing jobs it was a lot better than working a dinner. For one, the hours were better. The place closed at five, and with the morning and lunch rush, the tips weren't bad.

My evenings in Tulsa start out typically enough; I run my usual patrol, though the enemies are few and far between, and head for my usual after-slay drink at whatever bar seems appropriate for my mood. More nights than I'd like, when I'm pleasantly numb from the alcohol, I don't go home alone.

Tonight though, my mind is on other things, like the man in tweed I had accidentally bumped into that afternoon; who apologized gently and when I looked into his glass covered eyes, I only saw Giles.

From the moment I lost my family, I've worked hard at keeping thoughts of them from my mind. I find it's the only way I can manage to go on. And when that doesn't work, I let the alcohol distract me from a pain that isn't getting any easier to bear.

So this night, I head into the closest pub I find, even though it's seedier than I usually choose, and try to drown the memories swimming in my head. Three drinks in, an older man who reeks of cigarettes and undresses me with his eyes, hits on me. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel shame.

I decline his offer to buy me a drink, but he doesn't let up. He continuously hints at my promiscuity, as if he knows of my almost nightly rendezvous'.

I'm not sure exactly why this stranger's words affect me so. Perhaps it's the realization that if he were maybe 10 years younger, and on any other night, I might have gone home with him despite my initial assessment.

Tonight though, all I can think of is what Giles would think of me. The last straw is when he places his hand on my knee, and I'm momentarily infused in a sea of self-loathing.

"Leave. Me. Alone." I say darkly, a hint of menace in my eyes, as I shove his hand away.

Over ten years of being the slayer ensures that not another word needs to be said. Seconds later, I continue drinking myself into oblivion, allowing the once avoided thoughts of my family to fill my mind.

When I leave, I'm lost in a haze of Jack Daniels and bittersweet memories. I yearn for my mother's comforting embrace, Giles' strength, Dawn's gentleness, Xander's unyielding faith in me, Willow's support, and Spike's insight. By the time I get back to my room, the imaginary dam keeping me together no longer exists. This town is lost to me now, and minutes later tears stain my clothes as I pack them away.

I think then of the only person I know who's all the things I love about my family, who wouldn't need to say a word for me to feel better again. Searching through my purse, I pull out the small piece of paper, and enter the 10 now barely legible numbers on the hotel phone.

It rings three times before I realize what time it is. I'm about to hang up when I hear muffled sounds on the other end. I smile slightly despite the tears still streaming down my face.

"Hello?" A woman's voice still in the throes of sleep asks.

Then faintly, I hear a groggy, "Who is it, Ni..."

I hang the phone up as though it burns, before the last word is finished being said. I hate the alcohol for a moment then, for making me so stupid.

I curl up in a ball on my bed, unable to leave the safety of my room until the darkness is gone. I weep for all that I've lost, all that's happened, for who I've allowed myself to become.

†

The next morning, I manage to get on the next bus out of Oklahoma. Ironically enough, it's heading to Cleveland. It seems like a sign, after last night and the breaking of my dam, it's no wonder I have to face the last demon that plagues me.

Every minute is spent in dread, my instability so great that most everyone leaves me alone. It takes far too long to reach my destination, and when I do, I feel the energy of the Hellmouth pulsing under my feet.

It's been almost a year since I've been here, but I find the school easily enough. Again, memories assault me and part of me regrets coming to a place where my family lived, and where I could have experienced some semblance of happiness if only I hadn't run.

I realize then, that there is no real reason to go into the school, there is nothing left there for me. I'm still a slayer, but I've never been one of them. And besides, there is nothing left of my family there either.

Half an hour later, I'm standing in front of the place I once briefly called home. Everything looks like it did before, the strange flowers Willow planted without magic still blooming in the front yard. Instinctively, I know this is Angel's doing. He's safeguarded this house, just for me.

I walk up the porch steps, my arms wrapped around my waist in the hope to keep from falling apart. I reach for the top of the doorframe and feel around until my fingers touch metal. I pull the key down, unlock the door and gingerly step inside the threshold.

The fidelity of the place fills me with despair. Everything is exactly as I saw it last, albeit covered with a layer of dust.

Dawn's book bag by the entrance... Willow's magicks littered across the dining room table, remains of that last spell... Xander's thoughtful renovations within the house… Giles' tea set in the kitchen, the picture of classic British elegance...

It all hits me like a punch in the gut, sucking the air from my lungs. Artfully avoiding Giles' corner, I reach for my own. In the back of the pantry under the sink, I pull out a bottle of amber liquid, three quarters full.

Walking towards the kitchen table, something rectangular and black catches my eyes. I stare at it for long moments, tears pooling, until finally, I hesitantly reach out and pull it off the wall. My eyes linger on the picture encased as I move to sit down at the table. Eyes still occupied, I open the bottle and take a swig, the tears finally overflowing.

I've never felt as hollow as I do now. They're all I've ever known of real love, but it's gone just like they are, and I'll never get it back.

A/N: Last chapter I said Buffy next, but I was toying with the idea of inserting Angel's drabble and then her chapter, thats why this update took so long. I ended up with Buffy after all, and Angel will be next. There's some overlap in his chapter, which is why I was going to start with him, but I think it works best this way. Anyway, Angel next.

As always, thanks for reading!