(Buffy & Dawn)
The Rose
To your grave, I spoke
Holding a red, red rose
Gust of freezing cold air
Whispers to me, you're gone
- "A New Hope", Broken Iris.
Her feet crunch snow. The air is chilly and a sudden gust sends her grasping for the edges of her jacket and pulling it closer around her middle. The rose in her right hand is nearly knocked from her grip; she tightens her fingers around the stem just in time to catch it.
She continues on. One foot in front of the other. One hand holding the rose and the other wrapped around her stomach to shield herself from the cold. Another step. Another. She dodges a few trees and another few gravestones. And then she sees it.
"Buffy." It's just a whisper but her breath forms white mist in the air before her. She kneels beside the grave.
It's just like she remembers it from last time. Cold. Grey. Taunting her with it's stillness and it's words. Buffy Summers.
Her heart lurches. The rose slips from her fingers and bounces once, twice and then settles on the snow at the foot of the grave. "Buffy," she says again. This time her voice is a little firmer and louder. Hoarser.
A tear leaks from one eye; she brushes it away with the back of one hand. She stares at the fallen rose. It's brilliant red against the white of snow, like blood seeping through a tissue and staining it's every fibre.
Beneath the dirt, her sister lies. Gone from this world. Onto the next. It all seems so unreal, like a bad dream. She knows better than to cling onto that hope.
She pushes up from the ground a few minutes later. The cold is beginning to seep into her clothes and through her jacket. Time to go.
"I'll be back, Buffy," she promises quietly. She takes a last look at the rose and then the gravestone and then turns and walks away, head bent against the wind and fresh tears in her eyes.
fin.