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Riley  (PG)                                                                                             1     3     4     5

Blue Skies by Tom Waits

 

Post- Into the Woods

 

Blue skies over my head

Give me another reason to get out of bed

And blue skies shine on my face

Give me another woman to take her place

Ain't got no money, cupboards are bare

No cigarettes and the kids got nothing to wear

She walked out without a word

Now the only sound left is the morning bird singing

Blue skies over my head

Give me another reason to get out of bed

And blue skies shine on my face

Give me another woman to take her place

Blue skies over my head

Give me another reason to get out of bed

And blue skies shine on my face

Give me another woman to take her place

Give me another woman to take her place

 

 

The impossibly bright blue of the sky made a brilliant counterpoint to the lush green of the jungle below.  The thwap-thwap-thwap of the helicopter blades seemed to echo the beat of his heart.  Or maybe, his heart had begun to beat in rhythm with the blades.  The end result was that he felt calm. . . peaceful.  He was where he belonged.

 

Riley Finn didn’t like ambiguity.  He wasn’t comfortable with gray.  He liked his life like he liked his skies—bright blue and sunny.  He liked doing the right thing, and knowing down to his core what the right thing was.  He’d been an Eagle scout and he honestly and truly believed in the vows he’d made.

 

On my honor, I will do my best

To do my duty to God and my country

And to obey the Scout Law;

To help other people at all times;

To keep myself physically strong, mentally awake,

And morally straight—to live my life with honesty, to be clean in speech and actions and to be a person of strong character.*

 

That was the code he lived by.  Honor, duty, helpfulness and obedience.

 

How had he managed to lose his way so thoroughly during his tenure in Sunnydale?

 

Just a tiny streak of gray had crept across his blue sky, and then more and more, until he had felt encased in a fog of grayness.  He stumbled around in that fog, losing his direction, his honor, his duty and his trust.

 

The organization to which he had entrusted his life betrayed him, pumping him full of drugs and electronic controls, and building the very monsters he had sworn to eradicate.

 

The girl he loved, Champion of goodness and light, preferred monsters.

 

He had lost his surrogate family, his trust, his girl, his love. . . but when he lost himself, he knew he only had one chance to make things right.

 

He wasn’t needed in Sunnydale.  Sunnydale had its own Protector.  The Slayer.  Champion of good.  Who he had thought was his girlfriend.  His partner.  His equal.

 

But, it turned out, she wasn’t really any of those things.  They weren’t equals.  She was so strong, so self-contained. . . She hadn’t needed his protection—she was the Protector.  And he could have lived with that, if he could have been her partner.  But  she hadn’t needed him for that, either.  She already had partners.  Willow and Xander and Giles and. . .even Spike.  When things got rough, she turned to Spike.  She chose a soulless, behavior-modified, Sub-T, vampire monster as her back-up, her confidant, instead of him.  It was automatic.  He’d seen it more than once while the gang patrolled.

 

She’d send him with Willow and Xander, while she patrolled with Spike.  The Vampire Slayer and the Vampire fought together as a team, like they were dancing.

 

He had been part of a well-oiled machine.  His unit had trained together, fought together, until they knew each other’s every move.  Buffy’s fighting style was so different.  She took chances, made illogical moves, operated almost on instinct.  He’d never been able to anticipate what she’d do next.  But Spike could.  Spike seemed to be attuned to her in some mystical way that he would never be.

 

Which left only the relationship.  The relationship that wasn’t a relationship.  When had he first known—really known—that she didn’t love him?  When her mother had gotten sick?  He had wanted desperately to be there for her, but she hadn’t needed him.  She’s actually seemed to view him as a burden, when all he wanted was to help her bear hers.

 

He’d known then that she didn’t love him.  She wanted to. . . she tried. . .but when all was said and done, she didn’t.  And that, he couldn’t live with.

 

It was better for them both if he left.  It hurt.  It hurt like hell.  But once he honestly faced the fact that she would never love him the way he loved her, it got easier.  The gray fog lifted to let in a little bit of blue sky.  She was an extraordinary woman, and he was an ordinary man.  He would never be enough for her, and now, that was beginning to be okay.

 

He had his good points.  He may have lost sight of them for awhile when he sank into despair and degradation, but he’d pulled back in time.  He had himself back.  He knew who he was:  A decent, upstanding, wanting-to-do-the-right-thing, ordinary man.  And somewhere out there was a decent, upstanding, wanting-to-do-the-right- thing, ordinary woman for him.  And he’d eventually find her.  He believed that with all his heart and soul.

 

And Buffy?  Extraordinary, mystical, larger-than-life, mythical champion that she was?  He hoped with all his heart that someday she’d find an extraordinary, mystical, larger-than-life, mythical Champion to share her life.

 

It was what she deserved.

 

 

The End

 

 

*The Boy Scout Oath courtesy of B.S.A.

 

 

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Part Three:  Wesley

 

 

 

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