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I Quit
Author:
Jill
Disclaimer:
Hysterical laughter – who wants them
anyway these days? I'm not making any money off this.
Rating:
PG-13
Pairing: B/A,
and the other canon pairings at that time
Distribution:
my site (http://www.never-ending-love.de), Land of Denial, if you have
any of my stories, take it; anybody else tell me where it goes
Spoilers:
Everything up to “The Gift” and “There’s No Place Like …”
is fair game.
Timeline:
set after “The Gift” and at the end of “There’s
No Place Like…”
Summary:
What if Dawn died instead of Buffy? What if the Slayer made true of her
promise to Giles?
Feedback:
oh yes, please – this goes without
saying – pretty please?
Dedication:
For all the great Babblers. What would my battered B/A-heart do without
you?
Note: This is kind of an instant story that came into
my mind when watching “The Gift” today. I thought what if Buffy made true
of her promise to Giles? And voilá here it is.
Note 2: This story was written out of a momentary
mood, it’s maybe not very good, it’s not beta-ed, not even properly
proofread. So sorry for any mistakes, but I’m
tired tonight, and I needed to post it now.
I
can hear their voices from the outside, tired voices, but happy, even
excited. Maybe they just come back from a good night’s slaying, who knows. Maybe they averted
the apocalypse. Anyways. They’re in a
good mood, laughing together. Like friends. Like life.
I
curl even tighter into a ball on the sofa, glad for the darkness
surrounding me, not really feeling comforted by it, but feeling a lot
better than I have for a long time. At least I’m not afraid anymore. But maybe that’s just because there’s nothing else left to lose.
Of
course I know it’s not
fair to say that. There’s still
plenty to lose, there are my friends, my watcher, but somehow – tonight – after we held the memorial service, I
just stopped caring. I know there are people out there not able to
believe I’m
reacting like this, all over some girl that wasn’t even my real sister. And maybe they are
even right. The problem is, I don’t care. Dawn might not have existed in
this dimension, might not have existed at all ten months ago, but to me
she felt real. Like my mother. Like Dad. At least when he still behaved
like my father.
Willow’s face comes to my mind, crying over Dawn’s grave, leaning onto Tara, tears
streaming over the blonde’s cheeks
as well. They were grieving, but they had each other. Xander’s face was frozen in stone, I’ve yet have to see him cry, but even
without the tears I saw the grieve. But there was Anya, clinging to his
arm, holding him, giving him strength. Giving him love.
Giles
was there, too. He tried to talk to me, the way he tried over the last
thee days, but I refused to listen. I just looked at him, not caring if
it hurt him. I know I’m his
Slayer, I know he loves me, and – of
course – I love
him, but it doesn’t matter.
Not anymore. I have lost once too often. I’m broken, and nobody can bring that back
to me. I once went out to save the world, now if the world went to Hell,
I would watch it with a smile on my face.
Suddenly
I can hear Angel’s voice,
happy in a way I’ve never
heard it before. "Okay. Can I say it? I wanna say it."
I
know I should be happy to hear him that way, with a smile in his voice,
something I always hoped he’d find
after years and years of us being together. But of course fate was
against us, and so it never happened.
The
next I hear is Wesley’s question.
"Say what?"
The
doors swing open, revealing five people, three of them well known to me,
and again Angel’s voice
sounds through the lobby, “There’s no place like-“
His
voice dies instantly when his eyes suddenly lock with mine. “Buffy?”
I
hear a question in his voice although his eyes tell me he already knows.
Not about Dawn, not that my sister died only a few days ago, but he
knows. He can see. He understands. He sees my heart is broken, sees my
soul weeps in a way it has never before. Not even when I had to sent him
to Hell.
“What’s-?” I hear Cordy’s voice as she almost bumps into Angel,
then comes around his back, seeing me. “Buffy?” She is stunned as well. Certainly she
never expected me to come here. We’ve not exactly been keeping contact these past
years. The other two people, an African-American, and a girl who looks as
if she doesn’t belong
here, don’t say
anything, just look at me, trying to understand what’s going on.
But
I only register this from the corner of my eye as my gaze keeps locked
with Angel while he makes his way down the stairs towards me, not talking
but communicating all the time. He finally reaches the sofa, slowly
lowering his large frame to come to sit next to me.
For
another long moment we just look at each other. Time has passed and we
didn’t talk
since he came to my mother’s
funeral, but somehow it doesn’t seem to
matter. Sitting here, right beside him, I feel as if I can breathe again.
Angel never judged me, he simply held me when I cried, he listened to me,
and he always, always understood. Maybe that’s the reason I came here and didn’t just run away the way I did when Acathla
took Angel with him to the demon’s dimension.
I had nobody to hold onto then, but there’s someone there now.
Angel.
Years
and months of separation just cease to exist, suddenly not important
anymore, as I realise it’s always
been Angel.
“What happened?” he asks finally, his voice soft, his
cold, gentle hand at the same time wrapping around my colder one.
“Dawn is dead,” I tell him, surprised how easy those
words were. But I know it’s because
of him, because I know he will understand.
“Oh, Buffy,” he whispers, and I can hear the tears in
his throat, choking him.
And
then his arms are around me, enveloping me in a circle of warmth,
strength, and love, and I hear his mouth whisper words to me, words that
have no meaning, make no sense, and still seem to wrap around my weeping
soul. “There was
this Hellgod,” I tell
him, desperate of sharing this, desperate of him being with me. “She … Dawn was the key to her dimension. I … I tried to save her,” I cry, feeling tears well up in my eyes,
tears I thought I didn’t have
anymore, but it seems with Angel anything is possible.
“I know,” he whispers. “I know you tried your best.”
“I … I wanted to die for her. But there w-was
this k-knight. I thought they were all dead, but this one was alive. He – h-he k-k-killed her.” I can’t talk anymore. There are no words left.
How am I supposed to describe what happened then. How am I supposed to
tell him how I felt when the dead body of my sister landed only a few
feet away from me on the pavement? How can I explain that I hit Willow,
trying to force her to bring Dawn back? But then I feel Angel’s arms tighten around me, and I suddenly
know I don’t have
to. With Angel I never have to do anything. He never expects me to be
anything. Whatever happens, he will always be there. He will always
understand.
We
sit like this, wrapped around each other, just holding, whispering, for a
long time. Somewhere in the back of my mind I hear Cordelia leaving,
taking the other girl with her for the night. Then Wes and the other man
say good-bye as well, and finally we are just on our own, just the two of
us, still holding each other, still not able to let go.
“I wish I could’ve been there,” Angel says after a while. “We were held up in another dimension.”
The
words register in my head, but for now nothing matters than his arms around
me, the safety being close to him means. I never felt so safe as I did in
the circle of his arms. I didn’t feel
like this for a very long time. It’s the only place I want to be right now.
Maybe forever.
Forever.
Yes,
the word has a really nice sound.
My
head still at his chest, my cheek resting over his unbeating heart, I
tell him. “I quit.”
I
feel him stiffen for a moment, then relax again. “Yes.” He says simply, and I can’t believe I ever let him leave me. It’s as if I’m back with a part of myself.
“I’m not
going back. Ever.”
“I know.”
He
understands. The way he always has. His soul is so close to mine, he just
knows. I take the first deep breath, ever since Dawn’s broken body landed beside me. “Giles tried to convince me to stay,” I tell him. “You know, telling me I’m the Slayer. Without me the world was in
danger, yadda, yadda, yadda. But I couldn’t.”
I shiver
when I feel his lips touch my forehead, soft the way I remember them. “I love you, Buffy,” he says, his mouth descending to my eyes,
kissing them closed, then to my mouth, kissing me properly, lovingly.
“I know,” I reply, sighing, snuggling closer. “I love you, too.”
This time
I feel him taking a deep breath, and for a moment I wonder if he ever
doubted my love for him. But I dismiss the thought. It’s not important anyway. Not anymore.
“Can I stay? I mean, I … I could go to my father, but I …”
I can’t finish the sentence because the same moment
the phone rings, and with an apologetic look, Angel pulls away from me,
walking over to the counter and picking it up. He stiffens when he
listens to the caller on the other end, then turns to look at me, his
eyes serious, before he slowly shakes his head. “No, Giles. I’m sorry. But I haven’t seen her. I don’t know where Buffy is. Yes … I will if … Alright. Good Night.”
He puts
the receiver down, his eyes never leaving mine, when he walks back. He’s just given me his answer. It’s all I need.
END
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