If you wanted to
could your heart be true
If you wanted to
could you not want
anyone else's world
Anyone else's world
If you wanted it
Just break off a bit
If you wanted a taste of
someone else's world
Somebody else's world

She hadn't known she was crying until she tasted the saltiness of the tears, and she didn't wipe them away. She could barely trust herself to speak, and she struggled to get the name out, the one name that haunted her, had haunted her forever.

And if she had ever wanted to be a piece of her world, her life, she had pushed her away, trapped her inside her own spiral of destruction. She could have let her in. She could have given her a chance. Not just the pity that was forced on her from everyone else; she could have genuinely wanted to help more than she had. Maybe things would have changed.

Because she had always wanted a piece of it, wanted to be a part of it – and she couldn't blame her. After what she had left behind, she was only faced with more trouble and pain. She could have helped stop that. She could have pulled her up, pulled her out. Held her close.

And so she had done the only thing she knew; she had just taken it instead. Because she never gave it her, she had left her with the silent message that all this would never be hers. And she needed something to have, to keep, so she clutched at it with all her might until she was sore. And even then she would not admit defeat.

Because that was the way she was.

(((Want, take, have.)))

Echoing, repeating, agonizing.

(((There's my girl.)))

I'm a broken handed Superman
You're a Krypto Nightingale Snow White
Now I understand
It's something I understand
Some things I understand

And she had the world weighing her down all the time; she was a modern-day superhero. And she hated it, she hated having to carry this burden, especially when she saw how she just took it in stride as if it were nothing, just a form of release for all her aggression and pain that she would never confess to.

(((Need to find the fun a little.)))

But everyone had pain, even if it were the tiniest thing to someone else. Because it was the way something affected you, not how great or small it actually was. Because that never matters. All you ever focus on is the pain.

(((You're all about control. You have no idea what it's like on the other side! Where nothing's in control, nothing makes sense! There is just pain and hate and nothing you do means anything. You can't even – )))

(((Shut up!)))

(((Just tell me how to make it better.)))

And they both understood that far too well, they always would – and sometimes she hated herself when she briefly thought that she deserved it, to feel it, to drown in it – and then she would want to run and hold her until the world ended, and crumbled around them.

(((You can't touch me!)))

No one could; no one could reach through those barriers she threw up and touch her soul, the moment someone had they had gone right back up. Even when someone finally made contact and she broke, she pieced herself back together with tape and glue and remained the same guarded human being that she always was, but not so lost, and not so vengeful.

(((There is nothing I can do for you, B. I can't ever make it right.)))

If I wanted to
could my faith be true
If I wanted to
could I not want
anyone else's world
Anyone else's world
If I wanted it
I'd break off a bit
If I wanted a taste of
someone else's world
Somebody else's world

She had believed in her as long as she could manage to hold on to that hope, because every time she tried to grasp onto it, she pulled it ever so slightly out of her reach. Because she would rather have died than watch her spiral down into the darkness the way she did, eventually. And she still blamed herself, for not trying enough, not trying harder to grab her hand and pull her from the depths of her own stubborn ache.

(((Uh, Buffy?)))


(((. . . . .Nothing.)))

But she was just as much to blame, it was her own fault for not being willing to accept the help offered to her so many times, even if some of it was only half-hearted. She was aware that the fact she had more than she ever would, the fact that no one cared about her as much, because they did not know her, and she barely gave them a chance; that this only contributed to her suffering. And she gave into it, let it take her over and control her; a blanket of burning security. It was the only thing she had.

(((What do I get?)))


(((Do you think you're better than me? Do you? Say it, you think you're better than me.)))

(((I am. I always have been.)))

She still could not say her name. It was painful. Strange how her name meant something so diverse from her nature. . . Interesting.

(((Yeah, well, you can't trust people. I should've learned that by now.)))

I'm a broken handed Superman
You're a Krypto Nightingale Snow White
Now you understand
Now do you understand
Some things I don't understand

It seemed as if everyone forgot that there was even another Slayer; another just like her, as strong, with just as much to bear, and an even harsher past. Everyone was too focused on her to notice. . .her equal.

(((See, you need me to toe the line because you're afraid you'll go over it, aren't you, B? You can't handle watching me living my own way, having a blast, because it tempts you! You know it could be you!)))

In a way.

Somehow, though, she was not; she was her weakness, more than her equivalent. She found her way under her skin, in her blood, her mind, her. . .

No. Don't go there.

(((Ready to cut loose?)))

(((Try me.)))

(((Okay then. Give us a kiss.)))

But she could not deny what happened every time she saw her, that cocked grin, heard her name mentioned; she was nearly knocked unconscious by the force of the memories and images that swarmed her head.

Nothing was supposed to be that powerful.

But this time it wasn't really about magic, was it?


(((So what about you? What was your toughest kill?)))


She had wanted to throw herself over the balcony with her that night, just scream up to the sky, "I'M DONE – YOU CAN'T HURT ME ANYMORE," and jump after her, hold her as she fell.

And die.

(((You did it. You killed me.)))

But that would have been too simple – she had known in the back of her mind nothing was ever that simple. Because she came back, she never left her, she never would. She came back to haunt and torture her, in her own way. Make her yearn, make her hate, make her. . .

(((What are you gonna do B, kill me? You become me. You're not ready for that - yet.)))

She understood – didn't she?

There's no sin and virtue here
Just the Devil and the Jesus Road
All my angels and all my demons
always see me
All my demons

She was the one who had strayed down the dark path. And she had almost followed her. It made her shiver, thinking of being lost in those shadows, with nothing to turn to but deeper dissolution. But it made her shake even worse when she thought of how she had been a part of pushing her in farther – even if that was only her warped reasoning. Because no matter what she thought, it affected her entirely, more than she would ever want, or could take, or would admit. And she knew it. She knew what she did to her, and she loved it. It spurred her on, gave her a reason to continue on with the awful way of life she had thrown herself into.

(((Not getting tired, are you? I'm just starting to feel it.)))

One reason she knew she should not feel the way she did about her; she knew she should hate her like all the others.

But she never would.

She never could.

She'd die first.

And not because she wanted to, either.

Things just happen that way.

(((You oughta deal and move on, but you're not.)))

And she could run all she wanted, they both could; but everything was always going to catch up, no matter how fast or smart they were. They would always be out in the light, an open target, to their fears, their desires, their agony.

That, she knew they shared.

(((We're Slayers, girlfriend. The Chosen Two.)))

If you wanted to
could you heart be true
I'd you wanted to
could you not want
anyone else's world
Anyone else's world

And would either of them ever tell each other the truth? Would they ever be able to speak the words that could have turned their lives around in the beginning, or splintered them further? No, it would not have hurt them, because they both knew the truth already. They always had. But they had never given in to it, because they were always running from those fears, and let themselves be blinded to what could be the best thing they could have ever done.

(((When are you gonna learn, B? It doesn't matter what kind of vibe you get off a person. Cause nine times out of ten, the face they're showing you is not the real one.)))

(((I guess you know a lot about that.)))

So instead they were always going to be the source of each other's anguish. Because only they could claw their way inside each other so far, and so well, and hold on for eternity.

(((You hurt me, I hurt you.)))

If either of them could have ever exposed their souls without ripping them apart first, their worlds would be so different than what they became. They would be different. But that's obvious, isn't it? Everything was always so obvious, and they still turned away from it – even though they both knew they didn't want to. And it just killed them more. It just tore them into pieces of what could never be, after what they had caused. Because they were both to blame. Always.

(((Anything I have to answer for, you do too. You're a part of this, B. All the way.)))

I'm a broken handed Superman
You're a Krypto Nightingale Snow White
Now you understand
Now do you understand
Now do you understand

Complex. Humans are very intricate, more than we give ourselves credit for.

Quite complicated when you think of how we feel such an aversion to something, someone, and yet feel drawn toward them, compelled to give in to what you feel is the wrong side of yourself, the darkness hiding there – they must be luring you. . .


Because you could never wander over there on your own, never want something, someone so different and yet the same, never admit it to yourself. . .

Would you?

(((You think too much.)))


But that's all part of it.

Would they ever understand?

(((So what changed? Why didn't you fight back?)))

(((Other things matter more.)))

Deep breath. Deep, shaky, aching breath. Salt. Crimson. Electricity. Dig up the power, push just a little further. Do it. She could do it. She needed to do it.

Exhale pain.

"Faith. . ."