My feelings
are gone, leaving just a cold numbing emptiness. It's like they were drained from me,
sucked into Hell with my Angel. Leaving me behind, with nothing.REDISTRIBUTION: Please ask first.
RATING: PG
CONTENT WARNINGS: none.
SPOILERS: Through "Becoming" (the season two finale) If you don't know what
happened in "Becoming" this story probably won't make a lot of sense.
NOTES: Takes place directly after Becoming Part 2. This story was written back in
1998, and is not how I'd write it today. But unless or until I rewrite it -- it will have
to do. Enjoy. A follow-on story was planned, but has not been completed. Special thanks to
Ann for her help and encouragement.
FEEDBACK: Love it, hate it, please let me know! All feedback welcomed.
DISCLAIMER: These characters are owned by some combination of Joss, Mutant Enemy, FoxTV,
TheWB, and perhaps UPN and/or others. No infringement on their rights is intended.
[Buffy has left Sunnydale and is on the road. These are her first several diary entries.]
Day 1
My feelings
are gone, leaving just a cold numbing emptiness. It's like they were drained from me,
sucked into Hell with my Angel. Leaving me behind, with nothing.
The bus's motion keeps lulling me towards sleep. Every time my eyes close, I keep seeing my last moments with Angel. Over and over again, and always the same horrible end. All while that troll Snyder's voice, repeatedly taunts me, "These are the moments you want to savor. You wish time would stop so that you could live them over and over again." Oh God, make it stop.
Day 2
Thankfully, I finally did get some sleep last night. It came in bits and pieces, but was still a welcome relief. So much happened so quickly the last couple of days; things were a blur. They seem a bit clearer now.
I've been running through the events of the last couple of days. Lots of things happened that I know are important. But the only one that seems that way involves a single sword thrust.
But, something's just not right about that whole sitch. I'm thinking that the transformation was one last Angelus trick. When he saw I had him beaten, he tried one last desperate ruse to win. He figured there was no way I could kill my Angel, even to save the world. Figured I'd hesitate too long, would let the world be sucked into Hell. One last deception to destroy me.
Really, how could Angel's soul have been restored? Who would have done it? And for it to have happened right at that critical moment, please. Convincing enough to fool me for awhile though. I'm so glad I didn't do anything truly stupid.
The bus is coming up on another stop. It may be a good time to change destinations again. Where really doesn't matter, as long as I keep moving away from Sunnydale. Six days left on my bus pass.
Day 3
What a load of crap. Clear mind? Was I even thinking yesterday?
My sweet Angel, my one real love, was brought back to me. For just an instant. So that I would have to choose to kill him, send him to Hell. I was left helpless, with no time, no options, no hope. Oh God, what else could I have done?
Who else has to make choices like that? Has to make such sacrifices? Has to give up their life, their love, their entire future? What or who will I have to sacrifice next? Why me? Why can't I have a normal life? Because of fate? Spare me. Nobody should have to be like this.
Day 4
Took a break last night. Spent too much of my meager fundage on a motel room. The shower was heaven, and sleeping actually lying down was a treat. Woke up and showered again. But, it didn't matter how much I washed--I couldn't wash away what I had done to my Angel. Thought about calling Will, but I'm just not ready to talk with anybody yet.
I've been thinking a lot today about those last couple of days in Sunnydale. About the many things I could have done. About how the results could have been so changed by the littlest of decisions. So many maybes and might have beens. So many ways I might have saved my Angel. Why can't I have done things differently? Why is he gone? Why did it have to be by my hand?
Day 5
I miss my Angel so. Even as my tormentor, Angelus, he was still around. I still got to see him. It was still possible I might get him back. Now he's gone--forever.
So many tears, why can't I stop crying? I had to get off the bus. The stares and the looks of pity were just too much to bear.
So here I sit in my motel room, writing in my diary and waiting for the next seemingly endless wave of tears. The remains of a pizza sit on the table. My bag of mostly dirty clothes on the chair, virtually screaming "wash me". The blank face of the TV staring down at me, begging me to give it life. Here we go again…
Day 6
I
slept in this morning. Had a wonderful shower, even though it couldn't seem to decide
whether it should be lukewarm or burning hot. Made some coffee, that's what the pouch
claimed it was, at least it was hot and strong.
I still have no idea what to do, can find no goals, no motivation. So, it's back to the bus. I'll just keep moving.
This evening I'll be at the coast. No further left to run. No idea where to go from there.
Day 7
It's just after sunrise. As I write this I'm sitting on the beach. The waves are calmly rolling in, making a wonderfully soothing sound. It's the first time since THAT night, that I've been awake all night.
I walked down to the beach last night. Not sure where else to go. Not sure if I might just keep walking into the water.
The night was beautiful. I just laid down on my back in the still warm sand. Looked up at the stars. Listened to the waves and felt the cool breezes blow over me. Spent the night remembering the past couple of years with such clarity. Thinking about all that has happened, about what I have become.
My Angel, my love, has truly been gone for months. His brief return was not a cruel twist of fate. It was a wonderful gift. To one last time be able to see him, touch him, kiss him, tell him that I loved him.
I am the chosen one, the slayer. It's a hard life, the sacrifices huge. But, I do get to have some fun, plenty of excitement (actually, way more than plenty), and fulfillment too. I've already accomplished so much. Done more for the world around me than I could have conceived of a couple of years ago. My life has meaning, has a purpose. I have a destiny. Somehow, I'll just have to manage to squeeze in as much normalcy as I can.
Then there are my dear friends. I came so close to losing them, again. I'm not sure that I should let them be so involved, risking their lives too. But, I'm not sure how I'd stop them either. As long as I'm around they'll be in danger. But, if danger comes to Sunnydale while I'm not around…
I need to talk with Giles and Will, and Mom too.
It's still way early, and the sun feels wonderful. I'll call home in a while.
[END]
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