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Author Ivy Gort Spoilers up to Afterlife and then it takes off in another direction. Direct quotes from the episode Afterlife written by Jane Epson. Disclaimer: I do not own these characters nor do Iclaim ownership of this fiction. Summary:
A big special thanks to Ann Marie for BETAing this monster. Without her this story would not have been written or posted the Buffy lists. ************************************************************************ Part Three ************************************************************************ I'm sitting here sewing up Buffy's fingers; normally she doesn't need stitches, even when the cut is down to the bone, like it is now. All Giles used to do was pull the edges together with tape and by the next day the cut would be closed. The day after that, the scar would be gone. Tiny stitches, close the wound, pull the thread, tie the knot, move on to the next one. The light from the window I?m sitting under is just enough. It?s the window that Buffy would climb out each night to go on patrol. I guess I'm overcompensating for not fixing her hands when she clawed her way out of her own coffin. And the guilt just keeps on coming. Not only do I pull her out of heaven; I leave her in a coffin, six feet underground. I'm two for two in the 'let's traumatize your best friend' competition. Well, at least I'm using the purple thread. She likes purple. I have no idea why surgical thread is different colors. It just never occurred to me to find out. I hear the front door slam open and footsteps on the
stairs; it?s a single set so my guess it?s Tiny stitches, close the wound, pull the thread, tie the knot, move on to the next one. She comes rushing into Buffy?s room all out of breath and flushed faced? And her beauty absolutely stuns me. I don?t want to feel, I don?t want to think of the conversation we have ahead of us. Well, I?d say she?s broken that rule. I'd say she's harmed one, so whatdoes that mean? Have I damned her, too? Don?t think, don?t feel, don?t breathe?. Tiny stitches, close the wound, pull the thread, tie the knot, move on to the next one. She?s standing a few steps inside the doorway watching me. I can see the concern written all over her face, and at the same time I know she reaching out to me. Not on a physical level, we are sooo past that, she?s reaching out to me with her emotions. She?s an empath; she can project her emotions?calm reassurance?that?s what I suspect she trying to send to me. ?Sweetie?? She asks, when she gets no response, she moves further into the room to stand by the opposite side of the bed. Alright, so now I have to talk to her. I can do it; I used to talk to her all the time. But that was before I found out that I may have talked her into damning herself to raise my -- what? Just what was, I mean is, Buffy to me? More than a friend, less than a lover, no she's more than a lover, she was a part of me. " " "I will only be able to say it once." I finish lamely. I use the sleeve of my shirt to wipe my face. " "Stop!" I shout, and I suddenly feel it, the power, uncurling, looking for a fight. I want to use it; I want to crush her just so I won't have to look at the pain in her eyes. It wants to crush her, it wants to be released and I want to let it free. God help me, I want to let it have me. I would do anything to make this burning in my soul stop. Tiny stitches, close the wound, pull the thread, tie the knot, move on to the next one. Don't move, don't look up at Is this what it means to be damned? Is it this constant torture, this searing insight into how horribly you have hurt the person that you love most, is this what Hell is going to be like? I can tell that the tears are coming again because
Buffy's fingers have become blurry.
Oh, well, there wasn't anymore room on her fingers to put another
stitch. I start to methodically
pack away the First Aid kit, when I realize that She must have seen something in me because she's still standing exactly as she was when I shouted at her. I mildly wonder if some of the power might have leaked out and I froze her accidentally. But then her hand flies to her mouth in horror, sonope, not frozen. " I look up at her for the first time, I meet her eyes with
mine and I let her see it. I'm not sure if it manifests on a physical planeor
not. With
We just look at each other for a few moments -- not moving, not speaking -- not feeling. The front door opens downstairs and I hear Xander and
Dawn come into the house. Since I
have no idea how deeply Buffy is sleeping, I motion "We will talk about this, I will not loose you."
I let it come out a little bit more, enough for itto show on the outside, enough for it to take the edge off the worst of the pain. But, once I take the reins off, it floods outs -- oh god the relief -- it's smothering the agony. It drowns all the questioning, all the wondering ? gone in a blink of an eye. When I'm ready, I do a slow pivot to face
"That's not your choice." I say coldly, using a tiny hint of force. "Nothing will be your choice ever again." She backs away from me, and keeps backing until her back is pressed up against Buffy's closet door. Her _expression_ is one of utter devastation as the tears well up in her eyes. "Will-Willow," I notice her stutter is back. Her fear of me is wafting off herin waves and its delicious. "I know you're not a bad person?." "I don't care what you know or think you know, Lover." I mock her, feeding off of her hurt along with her terror. I detect the magical energies forming around her and act before she's ready to anchor the shield. With a twitch of my little finger I shatter it. "Always the Wiccian, Lover?" I smirk, "A mirror shield to deflect my power back at me?" One measured step forward into her space. "A mirror shield, Lover? Come now, can't you do better than that?" An idea forms in my mind?. "If you like mirrors so much, how about I put you in one? I wonder how long it would take for you to loose your mind?" I pause for effect. "Again." If I'd thought she was afraid before, I now know what real fear tastes like. I take it all in -- the rapid heart beat the quickened breath -- she's gasping for air like a marathon runner on the 26th mile. It's all-glorious! I start the spell as she slides down the door to huddle on the floor. Choking sobs behind me catch my attention and I whirl, bringing my hands up to blast anyone sneaking up on me?. When all I see is my best friend curling into a ball and rubbing her eyes like a petulant child that has cried herself to sleep. A flash of purple on her hand sparks a memory?. Tiny stitches, close the wound, pull the thread, tie the knot, move on to the next one. I realize, for the second time in two hours, that the power has taken hold of me. I stand there in shock, and I start to feel so cold that my teeth begin to chatter. "Fight
But the power is old and strong, and it's so embedded within me that I don't want to resist it, I want it to wash away my pain, Iwant it to wash away all my mistakes. I hear a whimper at my feet and I look down in time to
see 'Oh no! I couldn't have?.' I think frantically. " "Please, What did I do? What could I have done to cause this? I have no memory from the time that I stood up, until now? I vaguely remember something about a mirror, only that thread is quickly fading? "When my mother died," she starts, then has to pause to gather her wits. I know this because I know her; I see her straightening her back, standing up as if her mother was here, watching us. "When my mother died," she repeats. "I promised her that once I movedand left Daddy and Donnie, I would never live in fear again." "I love you
"No! No, baby!
I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" But its too late, she ignores my pleas. The power is building in me again? It's whispering that it will takeall my troubles, that it can fix everything if I would just let it out. I would never have to know what it does, I would be happy and safe?. I feel like I've lost everything?. I don't want to resist. But I do. I fight it
because I haven't lost everything - yet.
And even if Buffy hates me for the rest of my life, I will hold on to this one truth: when I was at my darkest, twice in one day,my love for her saved me. With that realization the Darkness, the evil, the power - retreats and leaves me to my mistakes. I can never fix mybest friend; I can only love and support her, and hope that one day she recovers. Still the power is old and patient and it's awake now. End of part three TBC (Thanks to Ann Marie.;-)
Bright Blessings,
Ivy
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