I don’t know if this could break my heart or save me
Nothings real; until you let go completely
So here I go with all my thoughts I’ve been saving
So here I go with all my fears weighing on me
Buffy stood at the entrance of a cemetery. The Californian sun beat down on Buffy’s bare back. A bead of sweat worked its way down her spine only to be captured by the top of her jeans.
Buffy turned her head skyward; sparing the bright blue cloudless sky a glimpse. A shiver coursed its way along her spine.
Standing there beneath the unforgiving sun and feeling its intense gaze burn her skin Buffy still felt cold and empty. Squinting into the sun a sigh escaped her dried lips.
She missed the gloom of London. The skies there seemed to know how she really felt. The bitter cold, the dark grey clouds and the rains that fell from them reflected her emotions better than the welcoming warm glow of the Californian sun.
She had come to love the rain. She could hide her tears in the rain.
3 months and I’m still sober
Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers
But I know, it’s never really over
She didn’t want to be here. Her heart screamed at her to run-run as fast as her legs would carry her away from this place. They denied her. Letting go of the shaky breath she had been holding she took a slow step followed by another. Soon her feet blindly carried her to where she needed to be.
Here in the cemetery Buffy was surrounded by reminders of people passed; loved ones that were taken too early. She stood before the one she came to see. It stood proudly in amongst the rest of the stone effigies.
It was the only tangible thing in this world that she had left that was solid proof that he once existed. That he once stood by her side, fighting for her, loving her. That she shared her life with him. It was proof that he wasn’t a figment of her over active imagination.
And I don’t know I could crash and burn
But maybe
At the end of this road I might catch a glimpse of me
She looked around at the other tombstones; they were put there to let every passer-by know who lays here, when they came into this world and when they were taken.
She stared at her grave marker. Hers was different, there were no dates. No birth date, no death date. There were no endearing words or poems etched into the stone. Nothing to tell all those who read it: who he was in life or who he had become in death. Nothing telling them that he died for them, twice.
Nothing telling them that; as sure as the sun would rise each and every day he would be loved and missed.
Tears slid down her cheeks unchecked as she tilted her head slightly a frown creasing her brow, she was struggling to collate the stone marker with her memories and emotions; desperately trying to find that piece she needed to link them together.
So I won’t worry about my timing
I wanna get it right
No comparing, second guessing
No not this time
Living in denial was one thing she was good at. If seven years of living on a hellmouth taught her one thing it was the river D-Nile was a nice place to holiday. Most things in her life she could bury in the deepest recesses of her mind and play make believe.
In true Buffy Summers fashion this; it wasn’t real before, but now as she looked down at the cold stone, her perfectly constructed reality; the one where he would storm into her apartment and throw her life into a welcomed mess; shattered.
3 months and I’m still breathing
Been a long road since those hands I left my tears in
But I know it’s never really over, No
He was gone, dust.
And all there was left was a stone marker with a single word etched into it.
This word told those who knew him, really knew him; said that he was their hero, he was their savour. To her it meant so much more.
One word covered over 100 years’ lost and few more found. It told of a love that crossed all barriers and broke all laws known to man and demon. It spoke of unbridled passion that burnt so fierce that it rivalled the fires of hell. It whispered an undeniable sacrifice.
It said he was hers and she was his.
It said forever.
Five simple letters formed a word which made it all real. It was a single word which shot to the very heart of her and it shattered it in an instant.
“SPIKE”
The weight of her grief caused her to drop to her knees. Through tear soaked eyes Buffy reached out her hand. She caressed the stone hoping to feel a connection. She pulled her hand back it felt wrong. He was always smooth and solid under her touch, but this, this stone was rough and harsh under her fingers.
3 month’s and I’m still standing here
3 month’s and I’m getting better yeah
3 month’s and I’m still alive
3 month’s and it’s still harder now
3 month’s I’ve lived here with out you now
3 month’s yeah, 3 month’s I hope
Slowly she reached out again her trembling fingers gently tracing each of the letters carved into the stone. As her tears fell she connected each of her memories with each of the letters. With each brush of her finger she said all the things she never got the chance to.
3 month’s and I’m still breathing
3 month’s and I’m still remembering
3 month’s and wait…oh
Standing on shaky legs the sun still beating down on her, a cool breeze danced across her skin. A shiver ran gently up her spine. Buffy’s eyes shot heaven ward instead of feeling cold under its glow she felt warm. A slow smile crept on to her tear stain lips.
3 month’s and I’m still sober
Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers
Author's Chapter Notes:
Its all mine you hear! Mine! Mwahhh haha!...Oops sorry kinda lost it there for a moment. The song and words is compliments of Kelly Clarkson, the song is titled "Sober" ( I wonder where I got the title for my ficlet? Can anyone guess) From her Album "My December" Its worth a listen. The rest...well you know the drill...It all belong to Joss Almighty Whedon and the crew at ME. Thanks for the play time.