Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters contained within.

That would be Joss Whedon,

Giving Up

Her eyes snapped open in the dark. She looked around trying to figure out what woke her. Was it some noise that didn't belong? That couldn't be it. She had no idea what noises should or shouldn't be here, since she had no idea where here was. She found she was lying down. The surface she was on was warm and semi-soft. A bed then. But what bed? How did she get here? She tried to turn her head for a better look and her neck gave a sharp pain. Her muscles creaked as if they hadn't been used in a long time. What the fuck? As the haze in her mind started to clear a little bit she started to remember. There was a fight. Someone she cared about had betrayed her. Images flashed in her mind of green eyes and blonde hair. Buffy.

Buffy had come for her at the apartment. They had fought, Buffy trying to win so she could feed her to Angel and stop the poison that was slowly killing him. As if you could kill something that was already dead.

What happened next? She tried harder to think but the pain in her head was making it hard. They had fought in the apartment and fell through the window, out onto the balcony. Then Buffy had shown her something. Her knife. The one the mayor had given her. The dragon knife. What then? They had fought some more. Buffy had handcuffed them together, but she had gotten free and was standing close to the ledge. Then a sudden lunge and she had instinctively turned the knife away and back towards Buffy. Oh shit. Now the images were coming faster.

She remembered the feel of the knife plunging into Buffy's stomach. The wide eyed look of disbelief in Buffy's eyes as the blood gushed out over her hands and onto the cement floor. She saw the light, the bright light that had always shown in those green lively eyes, slowly dimming, and then going out. Then the shock, the horror of what she had done. The feeling of unbelievable pain, that wracked her soul and tore a scream of sorrow from her throat. She screamed out her pain and regret until there was nothing left and she passed out.

How long had she lain there until someone found her? It must have been the mayor's men that found and carried her to the bed. What did they do with Buffy's body? She had to get up. She had to find out what was going on. She had to see for herself that it was true and not just another nightmare. As she struggled to sit up, the first step to getting out of bed, she heard movement in the next room. Those were the noises that had woken her.

The door opened and in came three men. Ha, men my ass, these were vampires. She recognized them as some of the mayor's minions. "Good, your finally awake." One of them said. "We've been waiting for you to come around; this will be so much more fun if you're conscious."

"What the hell are you talking about?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"His honor wanted us to tell you thank you for getting rid of the Slayer for him. He really couldn't have done it without you." The bastard said and started to smile. "But, now that she's gone and the Ascension can proceed without any more trouble, he doesn't need you. Fortunately, for us that is. I always wanted to taste a Slayer."

So he had lied. She should have known. Everyone in her life had always lied to her, used her, and threw her away when they were done. All of them except one person. The one person she should have clung to. Instead she killed her. As they came for her she didn't even try to fight. She let them take her, it was what she deserved. And who knew? Maybe she would find Buffy in another life and be able to find some way to make up for this one.