Just The Truth: Together By Herself
by inlovewithangel
On the plane, Buffy couldn’t stop fidgeting. Her fingers clicked a pen relentlessly, until she finally took notice of the middle aged woman sitting beside her giving her dirty glares. After that, her throat felt like sandpaper. She must have drunk six cups of water before she had to tap the woman and ask if she could get up to let Buffy out.
Buffy sat on the small toilet seat and put her head in her hands. She had been so certain she was ready for him. But now, her nervousness made her unsure.
That night, in the graveyard, she didn’t know if she would live or die. She sat with him, and it was so surreal. This was the same cemetery that Buffy and Angel spent countless hours groping, kissing, professing their love with physical touch. And they just sat, and despite the fact—or maybe because of it—there was electricity crackling between them as there always was, it was so uncomfortable. She told him she needed time, by the way of a baking metaphor.
Buffy cringed at that fact. How stupid could she be? Cookie dough? He had replied that he would wait…she thought. Now, every word of their conversation seemed unclear, and laden with meaning that would take forever to interpret.
Buffy stood and splashed water on her face. Breathing hard, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Why couldn’t they just be direct? Buffy smiled a wry smile at herself. That was what she was supposed to be doing, wasn’t it? She was supposed to talk to him with no double-entendres, no tones of voice that would convey more than her actual words. She was supposed to tell him the truth, just the truth: she was ready.
Buffy looked into her own hazel pools. The eyes were the window into the soul, weren’t they? She tried to look into them and confirm, that, yes, in fact, she was baked.
The baking process had taken awhile. It had started, Buffy supposed, as she stood, and stared out over the crater that had been her home, hell, and heaven, for the last seven years.
There had been a slight smile on her lips as she surveyed the scene. A smile of joy, of sadness. It conveyed relief and the pang of loss. The smile was the end of an era. It meant the end of fighting alone. It meant the beginning of living.
The weeks after that were spent sleeping. There had never seemed to be an adequate amount of sleep during the previous seven years. The nighttime had been time to hunt, time to go out, never to rest. But now, Buffy was able to lie in the bed that Giles had provided for her and Willow in his London flat, and close her eyes and slip away from the wakeful world.
And then it came the time to have to do what she had promised she would: bake. And that meant leaving her friends, and her mentor. She sobbed uncontrollably at the airport, and clung to them. She hadn't wanted to go, but she knew she had to. Her friends were the reason she was alive: they were her support group, without them, she couldn't define herself. But she needed to, and so, she walked away.
Xander hugged her, and cracked jokes to mask his own pain at watching his best friend's departure. Willow and Buffy cried together, holding hands, and the witch reminded her that the world was small: everyone was a plane ride or a phone call away. Faith and Buffy had sized each other up before hesitantly embracing, but the brunette did not let the blonde slip out of her arms before she quietly said, "I got your back, B." Giles accepted her to his chest and, with whisperings of pride, let her go to board the plane.
As Buffy sat in that cramped seat, staring out the window as the ground became less and less visible, her sleeping sister beside her, she wondered about relationships, about lovers, about why hers were never able to make it.
Angel had been her first, her most important. She had been young and willing to hand over her heart. She was surprised when he broke it, and swore to never again let anyone wreck her like he had done. Being the slayer, she couldn’t take the time to mourn for trivialities like a boyfriend’s departure. She had to fight, she had to win. Even if she was dying inside… no one could see.
Riley had been a poor excuse for an attempt at normalcy. He had never understood her, never could. He left her, because she wouldn’t let him in. It cut Buffy, because Riley was nice and he was good and he didn’t make her feel like she would have to dig deep into herself to have a relationship with him. She didn’t love him, not really. She ran after him that night, because as much as she was afraid of showing true emotion, she was also terrified of being alone.
It was good, she had decided, that he didn’t know she came. It wouldn’t have been fair to hold him back from the jungle, with promises of love and marriage and a life in the sunlight. Maybe a dog and some kids, or something. She would have grown bored eventually, she thought. She’s never been known for her attention span.
And finally, there was Spike. Buffy sobbed for Spike on the plane, as his sacrifice was still very fresh on her mind. The “what if”-s whirled around in her head. What if I had been faster, more insistent… And then they went back farther. If I’d told him earlier, if I made sure he knew how I felt… She rubbed her red eyes tiredly. What is wrong with me? She wondered.
And, the plane landed just outside Paris. It was the sisters’ first destination, as Buffy had always wanted to go to Paris. As soon as they walked into the heat of the summer city air, a wave of irony hit the slayer. Here I am, Buffy Summers, with the neat inability to make a relationship work, in the City of Love.
The two of them traipsed around Europe, taking in the world famous sights. The two girls laughed through the entire trip, enjoying each other's company. But even their companionship was limited. While Buffy wouldn't let Dawn live by herself, she trusted the girl enough to let her have her own space. And so, some days, the two girls would part ways at the front door of their hotel room, planning to meet for dinner or later that evening.
On those days, Buffy walked. She would just walk, guidebook in hand, staring through her sunglasses at the ancient cities of the continent. Buffy wondered if the reason she had never gotten her head around history while she was in school was because history was meant to be shown, not taught.
Sometimes, she would sit at an outdoor cafe, and watch the world turn. Buffy had never been able to do that. She'd always been right in the thick of things, making sure the world kept turning. But she never really got to enjoy it.
When the summer was drawing to a close, she realized that there could be no more aimless wanderings. Dawn needed school. But where to? Buffy wasn’t ready to run back to Giles in England, not yet. Not when she still had so much of herself to discover. So much she had to discover…without her father. She chose Rome. She wasn't sure why, but she felt at home there. She didn't plan on staying forever, but for right now, it would do.
When Buffy was the slayer, she had had people around her constantly. Friends, boyfriends, mentors and parents had been there, hovering, but she had always been alone. She had always fought alone, battled by herself. Her life was a strange combination of living completely isolated in a crowd full of people she loved.
And then her life was the exact opposite. She lived with one person she knew, one person she loved. But she was the least alone she had ever been. Those months after she moved away from her family, she learned how to stand on her own two feet…but how to lean on people when she needed it.
She learned how to be honest about her feelings. She said what she wanted, why she wanted it, and what she was feeling about it. Years before, if someone had told Buffy just how like Cordelia she would become, she would have laughed.
And from there, things were good. Everything settled down. Buffy became comfortable with herself. At once, she gained a wisdom about certain things, while retrieving a certain innocence she thought had been lost around the second time she died. She figured that that’s what growing up is all about.
More often than not, she found herself smiling. She found herself laughing. She found herself staring off into space, thinking about nothing, simply being. And she found that she was happy.
She was more than happy. She was baked.
She was baked enough to know that she wanted the vampire. Not needed—alone, she was fine. But, wanted. She was confident that she could make a relationship work. She knew she could. Especially with him.
These thoughts seemed to reassure Buffy and she dried her hands. She left the bathroom, her uncertainty now replaced with nervous anticipation.
Okay, she thought. It’s time.
This story archived at: The Slayer\'s Fanfic Archive
The Slayer\\\\\\\\'s FanFic Archive - http://www.slayerfanfic.com/viewstory.php?sid=4383