Author: C l a d d a u g h K i t t e n
Rating: PG-14, strongly leaning towards AA.
Summary: Buffy, years in the future.
Notes: This is not a happy fic. Leave if you don't want to read a miserable fic..Sorry, but I was craving something tragic. This was the only way to fix it. Thoughts enclosed in *.*
I think I'll go for a walk, maybe out in the rain,
maybe let the tears roll down my face, and not feel the pain.
Maybe think about someting, maybe think about you,
Yeah, you can't hurt me now. You know you can't hurt me now.
Got nothing to prove, got nothing to say,
got nothing to lose, nothing but you.
She looked down at the town before her. Millions of little lights lit up the small town of Sunnydale, better known as the Hellmouth. Cars moved below her, like tiny fireflies.
Her once-golden hair blew softly behind her, rippling in the light breeze. The moon was bright, full. Oz would be locked up tonight, somewhere down there. Maybe Willow would be watching him tonight, or perhaps just Giles, sitting in his office, drinking his tea.
She remembered a conversation with Angelus late one night, in the cemetary. The moon affected him too. She idly wondered where he was. Her Slayer sense was picking up several vampires milling around in the woods behind her. Watching. Waiting. But for what? Only she knew that.
The wind picked up slightly, whispering through the trees. She let her memories take her back over the past months since the night of her seventeenth birthday, when Angel had lost his soul.
The Curse. There had been a clause in it. One moment of true happiness. Perhaps she was cursed too. One moment of true happiness had cost her everything. Her friends. Tracy. Ms. Calendar.
Soon it would cost her the one thing she had left. Her sanity. Even as she stood here, she could feel it slipping away, as if somebody was drawing it out. Angelus' torment had finally taken it's toll.
Her eyes fell to her arms. Covered in slashes, bites and scars. Her one eye, black and swollen half shut, twitched painfully. She was likely half-blind now.
But did it really matter anymore?
*No,* the voice in her mind answered. Nothing matters. There was nothing left.
At one point, all that had mattered was killing Him. But deep down, she had known all along that she never could, never would. She belonged to him. She refused to believe it. But it was true.
Across the pale skin of her stomach, She bore his name in blood. She remembered screaming, pleading with him as the knife hovered over her skin, the cool metal shocking her system.
He had signed his name with the skill of an artist. As she fell into a gray haze, feeling the smooth metal move with lithe grace across her skin, she had seen him smile. And laugh.
Her eyes fell to the tarnished ring on her finger.
*Angel.* He was gone though, replaced by a demon who wore her lover's face. She still wore his cross, not that it would be of much use anymore.
The wind increased again, steadily picking up. She listened as it howled through the trees, watching as the clouds moved in off the water, coming into shore. She shivered, suddenly wishing she'd worn something warmer. Her white tank didn't cover much.
Reaching around her neck, she silently undid her cross, letting it fall into her work-worn hands. Her other hand went to her ring, easing it off. Placing the ring on the chain, she set them down on the ground.
Soon she would be free. Perhaps they would call her a coward, taking the easy way out.
The easy way out. How could anyone call this easy? They were far from the truth. But they would never know that. When she was gone, another Slayer would be called, and the world would move on, yet again.
Buffy Summers, One of the oldest Slayers in history, would be gone, forgotten, Remembered only in the Watcher Diaries.
She sat down on the grass, her Slayer Diary in hand. Flipping to the last page, she read over her final entry.
June 20/98 11:56pm
So this is it. I never thought it would come to this. Or maybe, I knew it all along, just never
realized.
If I could give only one piece of advice to the next Slayer, it would be this.
Don't waste your time worrying about what you didn't do, didn't save.
Sometimes you're ahead, Sometimes you're behind. The race is long, and in the end, it's only with yourself.
I realize now that maybe things would be different if I had followed that myself. Maybe if I had listened, None of this
would have happened.
A vampire can't love a Slayer. We were born enemies, born to kill each
other. It's in our blood.
Giles, Willow, and Xander helped where they could, but it wasn't enough. It's
not their fault. I do this of my own free will, because it is the only thing left.
I hope you understand.
Buffy Anne Summers
Buffy looked to the sky once more, taking in the stars.
He had taken everything from her. Except for one thing. And he never would take it. Her Freedom.
She held the key to it in her hand, admiring the way it looked in the moonlight. The sleek black metal of the small handgun felt like ice in her hand.
As she raised it to her temple, she thought back to her childhood, when they used to jump off the large sand dunes, counting to three, and screaming as you slid down the slope.
She had always been too afraid to do it. She would count, then back away.
Not now.
"One," She whispered, her voice barely heard over the howling wind.
"Two," Silence filled the air, and for a moment it seemed as though time stood still.
"Thr-,"
The gun went off.
Buffy jumped.
~End~