REREAD THE FIRST CHAP IF YOU READ IT WHEN I FIRST POSTED THE STORY!
~*~
I failed.
Can’t bloody stand the sight of any of them right now. They’re all looking at me like they aren’t thinking what we all know, but none of the lot are good liars. I know they know whose fault it is that two of their friends are stone cold; hell, I wouldn’t blame ‘em if they unloaded the stakes and got a little spring dusting done, so to speak. I almost wish for it, really.
Xander’s sitting in the corner with his head in his hands, waiting for the coroner to come back with his report. There was some awful talk at first on what to do with the bodies—god, why do I choke up on that word? I’m a soddin’ demon, I needn’t be trifled with blood and death!—Giles insisting the whole time that word can’t get out about her death… But Glinda came through when things started gettin’ real heated and reminded us all that there were a few of us in need of medical attention. Mostly Nibblet. Anyway, we all took off to the hospital right quick, and that’s where we’ve been since then.
I almost—no, did feel sorry for the whelp at first. Still do. He was clutching demon girl’s body like she was gonna disappear, and as much as I tried to tell him that she was gone it did no good. Poor sap couldn’t believe it, even though he was the one who dug her out of the bricks and saw how much had hit her. I’m in a similar state myself, really, but I… ‘m not gonna think about that right now. Can’t.
The witches are in with Dawn right now, and Giles is getting some attention for the wound he got earlier. Christ, that was a bloody stupid plan we had there—stupid bint wouldn’t let her friends go off on their own in the whelp’s car, of course not! She had to have the lot of us together, even though the odds were stacked highly in the favor not ours. Stupid bint. I squeeze my hands into fists so tightly that my bones crack. Idiotic bint.
I’m so pissed right now. I can’t stand to sit here in this room watching these stupid soddin’ people running about like their lives are just so important. So absorbed in all their shit that they can’t see anything but their own misery; humans are obsessed with suffering, more than demons are! I’m just sick of being here, not able to spend my unlife in the world I belong to… Instead puttering around with the gang of mediocrity.
The thoughts I tried to push away are coming back, and as much as I try to shut them out, they’re ringing clear in my head. I could’ve stopped this, how I and everyone feels right now—I could have made it right. I wish I can fool myself into thinking I still can, but the witches are walking out of the room right now and from how it looks right here, we’re leaving. Well, not Red. She walks over to Xander just as Dawn passes through the doorway, her head hanging down and… she’s crying.
Bloody hell. I could have stopped this, but I didn’t. And to see a girl of the Summers breed shed tears because of something I did (or rather, didn’t)—that’s a failure I can never forgive myself for.
But when she finally stands before me and just looks at me, with those big, teary eyes, I know that I’m meant to live the rest of my days helping this girl survive, in any way possible. Not because it makes what I’ve done disappear, mind you. Because it doesn’t. That’s the true meaning of regret.
~*~
We’re home.
They’re keeping Rupert overnight for observation; Red and the whelp are stopping by at their places to get clothes, and then heading here, to the place where only one of us rightly should be.
It’s weird that they flock here, when their reason for being at this house is gone. No, I realize, with a sort of morbid truth—she’s not gone yet. Her body’s upstairs, the only one that didn’t make it into the hospital. God, it felt wrong—so wrong to leave her wrapped up in Giles’ car while we all traipsed in and out of the one building that she may have come out of alive; but then, I know that’s not true—not in the least sodding bit. She was stone cold then, and she’d still be stone cold now even if we got the best docs in the world to try to help her.
I feel like such a git right now. All I can think of is her, lying on the mattress where I laid her down, when the li’l sis is needing much more from me, things I may actually be able to give her. Glinda did a spot of spellwork on the Bit, but even the straight sleeping charm only slowed her down. Sighing, I raise my head from my hands and begin to walk towards the living room, up the stairs, and outside of Dawn’s door. Right as I lift my fist to knock, though, I hear the two girls murmuring inside—and when her name is spoken, I flee.
Stupid, really. I run away from her into the only sanctuary she really knew.
Slayer’s room.
The second I step through the door, I’m assaulted with her scent, and I swear I can hear the ghost of her laugh. Did I ever hear her laugh? Did I ever see her really smile? Right away I want to leave, but my feet feel as if they’re glued to the spot. I can’t control my eyes as they rove about the room, passing over objects that scream her name. Pictures on the desk of her and the Scoobies. Stupid posters on the wall of prepubescent boys, a strange semblance of normal next to her stakes and holy water on the vanity. God, her bed. Why am I even bloody in here right now? I couldn’t bring myself to walk through the door when I took her upstairs, so I left her in her mother’s room… but now I’m intruding, without even an excuse.
Did I even know her?
A flicker of movement to my right catches my eye, and I turn only to take a deep, unneeded breath at what I see. She’s standing there, staring at me with the strangest expression on her face. It’s almost… god, she’s smiling. Her grin widens into it’s ear to ear, and I hear that musical laugh again, only the ghostly echo of it this time. It’s real, and painfully clear.
“Buffy?” I breathe without thinking, stepping forward, but the second I move she disappears into thin air, and I’m left staring at the wall behind me. It’s then that I realize I was staring into the bloody mirror.
“Fuck,” I hiss, inexplicably hot tears stinging my eyes as I find my footing again and back out of the room, running downstairs and out the back door to the shade of the porch. I can't be in the house right now; everything reminds me of her, and this is the freest I can get. There’s no way I can escape from her—she’s inside of me now, she’s everywhere around me… And the bloody bint just has to torture me with a laugh.
But I would give anything to hear it again.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Okay-- it's been a while from this fic, and I have SO many ideas with it, but I kinda had to set them aside for a while, cause school's been hectic. So yeah, this will be updated sporadically, but this is SO much fun to write-- I will definitely not abaondon it. :) If you read the first chap, you might want to reread to remember, and I added a bit!