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AFTER THE END
Buffy:
My life ended the night Dawn died, maybe not in the being dead sense, but my heart and soul short-circuited, and my life as Slayer ended. I told Giles, before we left. I warned him that if Dawn died I would quit, but he didn’t believe me. But I’m stubborn, if nothing else, and I kept my word. I said thanks to the others for their help, packed up and drove out of town. I didn’t know where I would go, but that didn’t matter. I stopped in the nearest town and looked for somewhere to stay.
A tall, shaven headed guy was propping up the counter in the bar I went into looking for directions. He introduced himself as Cal Freeman, and when our eyes met that familiar spark began to sizzle and I sat comfortably on a barstool as he pressed the first drink into my hand.
I will always remember that night. Cal was so kind *when am I gonna learn not to fall for that* he found me an apartment, promised to look after me, get me a job. Dodgy it may seem now, but I was so grateful for his help I didn’t even consider common sense *which isn’t all that common* and was happy to fall into his arms.
Willow:
When I realised the sun had risen and the world was saved *again* I was so happy, ready to hug Buffy and congratulate her and head back to the shop for a debrief. Like always. I was so shocked when she strode past us with a brief ‘thanks guys’ and disappeared out of the yard. But then I turned and saw Dawn’s beat up body lying lifeless amongst the rubble and I knew. I knew Buffy hadn’t just walked out of the yard, but out of our lives. I was angry. It’s shameful, but I was angry with her. I knew we’d be left with the grief and with the responsibility of Sunnydale-management on our shoulders.
I was sad about Dawn, really, mind numbingly sad about her. I was deliriously happy about having Tara back. I was confused, and the group and I muddled through the next few months in a daze. But after the mist had cleared, I talked with Tara about the matter of vampire slaying, and we decided we should take over patrolling.
That’s my life now. Tara and patrolling at night, teaching at the Junior High that Dawn used to attend during the day, in the hope the other fourteen-year-olds would help me forget little Dawnie. Some chance. She was one hell of a kid.
Giles:
Of course I knew Buffy would leave. She had told me. No more slaying. I can’t say I blame her, either.
In effect I had lost two daughters in the space of a night, but what I did next was still inexcusable. I was consumed by dreadful grief, and turned back to alcohol and sorcery to ease my pain. I was seventeen years old once again, and that must have been a terrifying ordeal for the other kids to watch. Not that they didn’t grieve, I’m certain they did. But they didn’t fall apart and run away like me.
I’m in London now, living alone, drinking, spellcasting and working part time in a city centre library. Am I happier? I haven’t faced that question in a while. I can’t answer. I am alive, and that’s as far as I can take that line of thought before becoming distressed once again.
Xander:
Once the emergency room staff had assured me that Anya was not seriously hurt, my thoughts turned to Buffy and Dawn. I was furious, which was probably unjustified, but I couldn’t stand that Buffy had left us again, whatever her reasons. I mean, why should we *the rookies* be left in hellmouth central? Shouldn’t we get outta town and leave Buffy with all her demons, physical or otherwise?
For months everyone moped, missing Dawn and Buffy, but it was too much for me. I took Anya on holiday, not meaning to come back at all, but I got an attack of conscience and returned after three months. Nothing had changed, aside from Giles’ being gone. I still hurt, Willow and Tara still hurt, Anya still hurt, and vampires were still rising from the stinking earth and later being slain.
A year later and life still went on, the earth still turned. We were getting better at the slaying gig, but not great though. Then my life fell apart. Anya was diagnosed with breast cancer, rapidly progressing and hard to control. I was severely messed up, I couldn’t eat or sleep. Not even Twinkies or candy bars tempted me, I was that bad. Now I’m sorta settled into a routine of hospital visits, work and slaying, but the last two I care less and less about.
Spike:
I couldn’t bear it, seeing Dawn dead. I knew what Buffy was feeling ‘cause I would have felt the same if the sisters had swapped places. I followed Buffy as she walked out on us. Damn it girl, stay for me, for Red, for the watcher! But she blanked me.
Bloody hell did I get drunk. Drunk as a damn skunk. It was the only way to numb the pain. When I came out of the alcohol-induced stupor the pain was still raw, but thanks to our very own teen witch I turned the pain into energy and kicked some evil ass, just like Buffy.
Except she was a hell of a lot better at it. Come back Slayer, I still love you.
We miss you Buff.......................really.
Everyday.
Please come back.
Please...
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