The Savior and the Disclipe Series
AN: This was supposed to be posted as a very short series, but I decided to send it out all together. Also, I hope it isn't too confusing. In "The Resurrection" it switches between Buffy and Angel's POV.
An2: The song at the end is mine and it's what's inspired this lil story. I hope you like! It's kinda my first B/A story!
I wonder if He can still feel me.
I walk into His office, carefully, as if just my presence alone would disturb the space. I follow sounds of exertion, the punching bag being brutally laid into. I wonder, momentarily, what had gotten Him so worked up. I look around and notice a broken vase on the floor. Did He break it? After a second, I decide that I simply don't give a damn, and continue my walk.
I see Him now.
Everything smells distinctly of Him; the leather of His old books, His favorite cologne, the subtle musk of His sweat... He's still as beautiful as ever. The sweat clings to Him as He pounds into the defenseless bag. He ducks and parries His inanimate object and makes a move to punch it again when suddenly He stops.
He turns slowly and when He sees me, He whispers out my name like a mantra.
"I feel used." I say, wasting no time with small talk.
"What is it? What's wrong?" He asks.
I hold His gaze, and then I let it slowly trickle down His form and rest on His left hand.
Realization must have hit Him, because He's whispering out my name, again, this time miserably, "Buffy…"
"No. Don't." I stop Him angrily. I have to stop Him before He melts me, "You used me. You used my love for you to show you how to live, how to love…"
"And that you did." He rushed to say, pity (pityofallthings!) stains His voice. "But, listen, I don't-"
"…but you never loved me." I finish with a bitter stab and took a brave step forward. I was so angry and so bitter and He had the audacity to look so god damned good… and so god damned in love with someone else.
"You made me out to be some saint and when I fell from grace, you didn't want me anymore!"
He turns His puppy dog look towards the floor, unable to deny my claim. Swallowing down the hurt, I press forward, determined to say what I had to say and then leave.
"I was a fool to love you and you were a bastard to let me.
Of all things I wanted to be for you… I never wanted to be just your savior."
And without another sour word, or glance, or tear, I turned and walked away from Angel forever.
Anger. Defeat. Coward. Fight. Harder.
There were no other words for what I was trying to do to this bag. Mila had just left and that was reason alone for wanting to do this punching bag in. Pent up anger and aggression, some of which I didn't know I had, came flowing out from inside of me.
Something was different today. Something was in the air, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it…
Anger Defeat. Coward. Coward. Coward.
It's exactly what I am. I lay into the bag harder, thinking on how I let everyone down that I entangle myself with. Cordelia, Wesley, Conner, Mila, Bu…
No. I'm not allowed to think about her. I've already done her too much harm.
I dodge an imaginary punch and lean back to throw a left when I feel that familiar stirring in my stomach. It couldn't be. I still had my supernatural strength; I would have been able to hear her come in…
I turn around slowly. She's there. I call out Her name, questioningly, wondering if she was even real.
"I feel used." She says, not playing out usual name game. My mind snaps back with Her comment. She sounds hollow, empty.
"What is it? What's wrong?" I ask, concerned. I have my strength, at least for now, I can still protect Her.
Her body goes even more rigid with my words. I watch Her sad eyes trail down my body and settle on the silver ring on my ring finger…of course. How could I forget?
The second She walks into my sight, the world tends to melt away.
I murmur Her name, suddenly feeling ill.
"No. Don't." She stops me venomously, "You used me. You used my love for you to show you how to live, how to love…"
"And that you did." I rushed to reassure Her. How could I explain this mess I've made to Her, "But, listen, I don't-"
She interrupted me, forcefully, but quietly, "But you never loved me."
This can't be happening. This…can'.happening.
She steps closer to me and for a moment I thought She was going to attack me. Not that I didn't deserve it. Her face was a mask of malice as She spat Her next words out.
"You made me out to be some saint and when I fell from grace you didn't want me anymore."
I had to look away from Her then. She was right. When Spike had come around boasting about how he had finally 'bagged' one of my girls, I had felt disgust. Disgust in that She would turn to a soulless demon instead of me. I had put Her up on this infallible platform and She had betrayed me in the worst way.
Maybe getting engaged to someone else was my revenge.
"I was a fool to love you and you were a bastard to let me. Of all things I wanted to be for you… I never wanted to be just your savior."
My Savior. She is that and so much more. I suppose I'm her disciple. She turns and walks away, Her head as high as She could lift it. I have to stop Her. I have to make Her understand. My legs aren't working; I can't move. I raise my voice and shout as loudly as I possibly can,
"Buffy wait!" He shouts at me. I stop. I always do. When it comes to Angel, no matter how heartbroken I am, I always stop.
Damn it, I almost made it out. What could he possibly want from me? No amount of heartfelt apologies or puppy dog eyes was going to make this better.
She stops, but doesn't turn around. My confidence goes up slightly and I'm able to move again.
I step toward her, not too close, but close enough to touch her in case she runs. Now it's time to try and explain myself, "I don't know…I don't know how we got here."
My chest is tightening miserably. Just leave, Buffy! All he's going to do is leave you again! I think bitterly to myself, but I still don't say anything. I don't move anything.
I'm afraid to.
She's still not speaking. I suppose that's better than her running away.
"I honestly don't. The changes started happening and I was lost, confused. I didn't know what to do…"
At this, I whip around angrily, "You didn't know what to do so you decide to get married? Married to someone else?"
I flinch at the anger in her eyes. It was similar to mine when I found out about…
"What was I supposed to do? Run back to you after you slept with my childe? Do you know how it made me feel? To hear all the disgusting details he told me about the two of you!"
That son of a bitch told him everything. I knew that Angel had found out, but not by Spike. For the first time since arriving here, I feel guilty. I look away, shame burning at my face.
"So, you know."
She looks broken right at that moment. I get a hold of my anger and grit out, "Yeah…I know. I wish I didn't. I wish it had never happened at all."
I take a deep breath and gesture to the living room, "Let's sit. And talk. Please…"
I hesitate for a moment, wondering if this was the best idea. He's only going to tell me what I already know. He doesn't want me. He doesn't love me. He hasn't for a long time.
Shaking my head of those thoughts, I risk it and walk over and sit down.
He looks at me for a second and then moves into a smaller room, "Is tea ok? I've got your favorite."
He remembers my favorite tea?
Maybe he hasn't forgotten about me, after all.
I don't even like peppermint tea, but I now realize why I keep it around. As I shuffle about preparing her drink (extra milk, extra sugar) I start thinking about what to say to her, where to start.
I don't hear anything from the sitting area, as if she's trying to do the same thing.
He comes back into the room with the tea and I take a cup, eager to have something to distract me.
He takes a seat next to me.
Nothing but silence, until I decide to break it the best way I know how.
"Ever since I was 16…I've only ever wanted you. And even when you left that never changed. I wish I knew how we got here…"
He locks eyes with me then, so intensely, my heart feels like it's going to beat out of my chest. He makes me feel like I'm a teenager again.
She's melting me. Her emotions have always been so intense, yet so pure. I've met many, many people in my lifetime, but no one that could affect me like Buffy Summers.
I speak, but my voice is suddenly hoarse. "So…so much has happened since we've been apart. Our lives are so different now."
She breaks eye contact with me and takes another sip of her tea.
I wonder if he has any alcohol around here. Otherwise, I won't be able to handle the "It's time for you to move on with your pathetic life and let me marry the woman of my dreams" convo. I don't handle rejection well…or maybe it's just that I handle it way too much.
I look up, bravely, and notice that he's still talking.
"…and I think that we should-"
"What?" His forehead scrunches up in adorable confusion at my sudden outburst.
"Um…whisky…Do you have any?"
A smile quirks his lips, "I'm Irish."
I find myself unable to hold in a smirk of my own and I hold out my mug, "Please?"
His head cocks to the side slightly and he's staring at me again. What is he looking at? Do I have something on my face?
She's a woman now. A 23 year old woman. I stand and make my way to the cabinets to grab a bottle of my favorite.
I put a healthy dollop of Jameson in both of our mugs and sit back down.
I watch as she first inhales the scent and then she gently closes her eyes as she tastes the first sip. When her eyes lock happily with mine it seems that it's my turn to lose control of my words.
"I knew there was a reason I love you so much."
I choke on my tea.
Suddenly our light, almost happy aura plummets right back down to the Buffy/Angel show.
My eyes were wide and I lost myself in my spiked drink once again. I mutter from the cup brim, "Ya know a girl could get real attached with words like that."
"A guy could get real attached with a girl like you."
While this would have been the perfect thing to say to me eight years ago, today it only pisses me off and the Jameson only gives me courage, "You're right, you know. I'm not the same person I was. I've done horrible disgusting things to myself. I've been more selfish than ever before. I'm not the sweet, innocent Slayer you left behind. You don't love me, remember? You don't even know me."
He flinches slightly at my tone or my words, I'm not sure which. He rubs a hand through his hair and speaks,
"I've messed up, Buffy. I've hurt a lot of people, as you can see." He gestures to the rest of his home. For some reason it's the first time I've noticed that the house is extremely disheveled. Things were tipped over, glasses broken; it looked like he had fended off a demon.
"What's happened here?" Hello, Slayer!
The warrior mode quickly deflated as I recognized the name of his fiancé. I grabbed the mug and took a huge gulp, emptying it quickly. I really don't need to hear about their lovers spat. This was all just a miserable waste of time.
"I-I really don't need all the details. Thanks for the tea and…and….goodbye." I stood and hurriedly made my way to the door. There was no way he was going to see me cry.
"Buffy, please wait!"
She scoffs sullenly and retorts, "Been there, done that." and continues her walk to the door. I jump in front of her quickly, blocking her exit out.
"I broke it off with her."
Confusion splashed on her face as my words hit her, "What?"
"I cancelled the wedding. She was angry," I let out a dry, un-amused chuckle, "Very angry."
"Why? Why would you do that?" Tears began to well in her eyes. I wanted to know why-sadness, anger?- but I continued with my answer.
"She came to visit me this morning." I tried, but I couldn't the nervous shuffling of my feet, "We got into an argument and I realized that…I couldn't do it."
"But…I thought that-" She looks so fragile at that moment I step closer. She notices and her face hardens again, "Why, Angel?"
"She's not the one for me." I answer immediately, "I've already met that person."
Remember when I said my heart was beating out of my chest? Well, it's stopped. In fact, I don't think my heart is beating at all right now.
I feel my body tense up and it's almost like an out of body experience. God, I am so angry with him right now, so how can he make me feel this way?
Just please don't say it's Cordelia, or Nina, or any of the other 'Angel followers'.
I feel his hand against my cheek, our first touch in years. I look into his eyes and see his own tears building there.
"I am so sorry, Buffy." He crushes me in a hug then, but I'm still frozen still.
I don't know where this rush of hidden emotion came from. All I know is that one touch from her was not enough. It was tentative at first, but slowly her arms reached around me and hugged me in return.
I pull back and look into her face. Her expression is blank – something she must have perfected over the years- but tears were streaming down her cheeks.
She looks up at me and speaks, "I don't forgive you."
Oh, God. Is it too late? Have I already ruined our chance? Her voice was weak as she spoke her next words, but I heard her clearly.
"Not yet. We're not just going to go back to the way we were."
His eyes brightened with my words and my heart began to beat again. This day definitely did not turn out how I expected.
I lean back against his warm(warm!) chest and hold him tightly. I think about where I've been and what I've done and where he's been and what he's done. It could ruin us completely, but I try not to think about it. Not now. But, maybe one day it won't matter. Maybe one day there will be no savior or disciple with us.
Maybe one day we'll just be Buffy and Angel, not Slayer and ex-vampire.
Maybe one day.
If you want to see where I got the inspiration to write this, read below.. It's titled 'Savior' and is written and performed by me. Chyna Fox. Thanks so much for reading!!
I feel used
As your guiding light
I showed you how to love
I showed you what was right
Now you say you're happy
Well, so am I
Got you out of my life
So I can be
My own Savior
I should be
My own savior
My own Savior
I should be
My own Savior...
Lay me down
Kiss my eyes
Stretch me out
Make me your Christ
I'm your Messiah
I'm your Modern Day Jesus
I'm your rejuvanator
I give my blood as your wine
I'm not your Savior
And you're not my friend
You're not my disciple
I'm not your savior
You made me into some saint
Then gave me some holy name
And when I fell far from grace
You kicked me from the pearly gates
I'm not your Savior
And you're not my friend
You're not my disciple
I'm not your savior