I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer. That honor, although severely abused, is Joss Whedon's and Mutant Enemy's right.
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And I really should have known,
By the time you drove me home,
By the vagueness in your eyes,
The casual goodbyes.
By the chill in your embrace,
The expression on your face,
That told me,
That you might have some advice,
On how to be,
Insensitive.
-Song Title and Singer unknown
Journal of Buffy Summers, January 26th, 1998- I knew somehow, the moment that I walked in the door, that something was wrong.
Afterwards, I wonder if what had happened could have been stopped. Could have been delayed, even.
Just a little bit more time.
But it wasn't to be. The world ripped him away from me in one instant, leaving a demon possessed shell.
And I know that it isn't him. I know I have to keep fighting.
Even so, I see his face. I dream. And slowly, what held me up now is collapsing. A fragile faith. And I freeze, and I can't hurt him.
No, not him. Angelus. Not Angel. I have to remember that.
But still I dream. And still I wish.
But for now I have to rest. Tommorrow is another day.
An empty day.
The End
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