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Human
Author: Margot
Rating: PG
Timeline: Between S6 & 7
Disclaimer: If you recognise it, it’s not mine! The lyrics are from the song Human by The Pretenders.
A/N: Well, I said I’d have something done by the end of the day et voila! I don’t think this is very good, because I find it kind of hard to get in Buffy’s head (hence the 3rd person-ness) but this is what my muse wanted, and she must be obeyed :)
Also, I love the song and really wanted to use it for something!
The graveyard was empty, save for herself, and if her body’s clock hadn’t been so used to her patrolling hours she might have thought that it was day. Certainly, it was almost light enough to be. It was a cloudless night, and the exact circle of the full moon was so clear that it might have been cut out carefully from pristine white paper and stuck there with glue. Willow would have said it had been drawn by a giant circumference in the sky, and Xander would have commented that if that was the case, and the full moon and all the terror that accompanied it were because of maths, then no wonder he’d never got on with the subject…
The sky itself was navy blue, rather than its usual black, adorned here and there with little silver fairy-lights as stars. Or, going with the maths theme, tiny pin-point holes made by a compass point.
It was all quite romantic, Buffy thought. Or she would have done if there had been someone for her to think romantically about. She sighed as her thoughts turned to the past year and thought wryly that if her relationship with Spike was romance, then she’d had quite enough of it, thank you very much.
A short, bitter laugh escaped her lips at this thought. Though, since Willow had attempted to destroy the world she had been climbing back into the light – both figuratively and literally – she still suffered bouts of depression from time to time, whenever she thought about what Spike had done to her. What she had done to him. She had used him, and she was so ashamed of it now. She had thought that being able to feel something – anything – would make the pain of reality better. But it had only made it worse. Because it had made her feel. It had made her feel broken, and that Spike was the only one able to put her back together, even though every time he tried she ended up with more pieces smashed than before.
I play a good game
But not as good as you
I can be a little cold
But you can be so cruel.
But it had been his own fault, she argued silently with herself, trying to defend herself against the part of her that understood what she had done. But Spike had hurt her. But she had hurt him. She was the Slayer; she recovered quickly. He was a vampire; so did he. Contradicting thoughts plagued her brain, shooting back and forth through her mind until she felt like she was watching a mental tennis match. The bottom line was, he knew she was using him, yet he chose not to mind. He chose to pretend that she loved him, that she was sleeping with him because she had finally seen the light and realised that he was everything she should want in a man and more. He had seen only what he wanted to see.
I’m not made of brick
I’m not made of stone
But I had you fooled
Enough to take me on.
But why should he have seen what he didn’t want to? Ignorance is bliss, as they say. But she was forgetting that, at the end of the day, Spike was just a soulless monster. Well, maybe monster was a little harsh, she amended. Sure, he could save lives and fight alongside Buffy and her friends, but that didn’t make him a good person. Or did it? Buffy sat down unceremoniously on a gravestone to sort out her muddled thoughts. Was a soul necessary for someone to love? If it was, then Spike had never been in love with her at all – it had just been lust, in which case he had got exactly what he had wanted.
If love was a war
It’s you who has won
But if it wasn’t true, and Spike did love her…well, then she’d treated him more horribly than she’d ever treated anyone in her life. And he had retaliated. The memory of that horrifying night made her shudder and pull her coat tightly around her, as if it could protect her. She still had nightmares about it. She would wake up in the night, sobbing and gasping for breath, but no one heard her silent cries, and no one ever came. She didn’t want them to.
Well there’s blood in these veins
And I cry when in pain
I’m only human on the inside
She was Buffy, and she was strong. It was a façade she had developed over the years – it was just easier that way. No pain, no sympathy. She didn’t want people to feel sorry for her, or let her cry the rivers of misery that stained her pillow every night. She didn’t want people to know her frightened thoughts. But that didn’t mean they weren’t there.
And if looks could deceive
Make it hard to believe
I’m only human on the inside
But maybe that wasn’t the way. She stood up, and continued to weave her way through the gravestones, half-heartedly keeping a look-out for any vampires. The façade had begun to drop, once upon a time, when she had been worried that she was incapable of love. And then once again, when she’d opened up to Tara. But Tara was gone now, and Giles had left for England with Willow in tow. She didn’t want to bring Dawn into this – despite claiming that she wanted to show Dawn the world, part of her still very much wanted to protect her from it – and given his hatred of Spike, she didn’t want to talk to Xander about it.
There was a tiny, almost inaudible movement behind her. Without turning around, Buffy swung her left arm out to the side and jammed her stake straight into the vampire’s heart. There wasn’t a single trace of surprise evident on her face – she didn’t even blink. The stony, determined resolve was firmly back in position. The walls were back up.
And as the dust settled behind her, she walked on.
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