Burning Bridges
By Fyre
TITLE: Burning Bridges
AUTHOR: Fyre
EMAIL: Fyredansa@hotmail.com
SUMMARY: Buffy thinks. (A rare occurence, so savour it!)
FEEDBACK: Hey, if you like it, please comment. If not, I'll go and sulk in the corner.
DISTRIBUTION: Just here at the mo...but anyone can have it :-) Just ask nicely ;-)
SPOILERS: the Prom, Graduation Day Part 1 & 2
RATING: G
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Cry. Cry. Wah.
NOTES: I like nice, juicy POV angstyness ;-)
DEDICATED: David B for looking so fine in that billowing coat (tm)
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He waited.
Earlier, he told me he would just leave, but now, he's waiting, watching me from far across that bridge, his eyes finding mine, revealing nothing. No emotion, no sign of the love that we had shared.
Love that had almost killed us.
Around us, there's so much going on; the flickering flames eating away at the School, the sirens wailing like lost souls, the death. I don't care. All I can see is the bridge, that bridge that has lengthened between he and I.
And only I have the torch that can burn it.
We could have stood like that forever and I don't think either of us would have noticed anything else that went on. But it had to happen. After the tears, pain and prerequisite comfort of Slayage, we both knew he had made the decision we needed.
Plus there's always going to be that 'I almost ate you' thing going on. I could see it when he tried to talk to me earlier. Those mysterious eyes can hide a lot, but never the guilt he was feeling when I saw him looking at the bandage on my neck.
He lives because of that. It didn't do too much damage – I'll probably have a scar, but I see it as something to remember him by. It was my gift to him, when I knew there was nothing more I could do.
He probably saw it as another step along the bridge. If anything, the final one.
I know that he released my hand and took the first step a long time ago. Maybe just after he returned, maybe after we shared our first kiss during his recovery, maybe after his time as the world's best actor.
I know I was willing to push him across for that. Seeing him, my love, my protector, my dark angel, with her, my one time ally and counterpart, it seemed so real, so ardent, so natural that I knew I wouldn't be able to hold on to what we had before.
In the days that followed, I could tell, I knew, he was making his way across. Small steps, barely noticeable, but he was crossing and I did all could to look the other way, ignore it, try to pretend it wasn't happening.
Until we reached the point of no return.
Turning, he confirmed he was ready to complete the crossing, ready to leave me behind, prepared to do what he could to guarentee that I would never be hurt because of him again, the bridge rocking as I tried to follow.
The bridge can only hold one. And that one was he. I couldn't follow. Couldn't stop him. So I did what any normal girl would do. Cried, screamed, vented my frustration, then went out and killed me some Hellhounds and had a great prom.
Despite being on the bridge, he could still dance.
And still hurt me.
The thing that gave him the final push to cross the bridge was the fact that he hurt me again, marking me. It wasn't either of our faults, but now, I could see why his decision was the right one for both of us.
Now, I can do nothing but stare across the chasm, across the rickety bridge he crossed to put distance between the lives of a Souled Demon and an exhausted Slayer.
Smoke billows round him. He always looks so right in the darkness. It clings to him, claiming him, mocking me because it can make love to him, when I can't. The darkness has always been his mistress.
Finally, the eternity is shattered in a heartbeat. He turns, not looking back, his coat flaring behind him and disappears into the mists of my past. Maybe our paths will cross again, but now, he has crossed the bridge. We are no longer part of one another's lives.
Flaming torch in my hand, I bend, touch it to the bridge built within the empty part of my imagination, the ancient wood crackling as tongues of flame lap hungrily at it, devouring it, leaving no further paths open to us.
Distantly, I become aware of Giles approaching, expression grave and proud, a strange combination to see on his tired face. I wait, wait in silence, watching the ropes snapping, the blue-gold fire doing its deadly work.
My time to linger, to think on my vampire love is over. The remnants of the bridge creak softly, snapping and tumbling softly down the eternal chasm. I sigh, fold my arms.
With my bridges burned, I turn to the man who has become more of a father than any I know and smile faintly at him. Things are as they should be right now. Just a Slayer and her Watcher and nothing else to come between us.
Together, we look at the school, our triumph over evil once again. "You did good work here tonight, Buffy." He tells me.
I smile sadly, remember dark eyes and tender words. I gaze across the abyss once more, try to pick out the form of my love, but he's gone and it was the hardest thing I've ever had to face, but I did it. I did it well. Catching Giles’ eye, I nod. "I know."
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