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Choice She lay on the hard white bed in the sterile room and heard him calling. She placed her hands over her ears to still his voice. Why was he still calling to her when she’d already made her choice? Why was he pursuing her when all she wanted was the still and quiet of the silent pale room. Her mother promised her that once she truly abandoned her inner life that she would heal, would become normal again. Everything else, all of them were just dark dreams, dreams that would fade quickly as she stilled the flames of their need. All of them had needed her. All of them. She’d become a hollow world for their need. Except for him, only with him who knew her true name, knew her inner heart, he gave everything to her, heart and blood and skin, make her live, made her feel, gave her fire. But she’d chosen now, driven them all away, murdered them in her mind. It was her mind wasn’t it. Sometimes still she wasn’t sure. But his voice calling, must make it stop. Doesn’t he realize that once you make a choice, choose a path, you can never turn back? Doesn’t he realize the power of maps on skin, veins traced down a thousand days, pulsing, pulsing into frozen silence? Oh must get him out of her mind. Had she taken the easy path? It wasn’t the choice between Slayer and Elizabeth, it was the choice to walk through the fire from which she’d run, run so far into another life, another world, another universe. Where he could never touch her again, never free her again. * * * * * The Calling Perhaps I’ve chosen madness rather than life. Easier to be mad than to know the beauty of the paths abandoned. But there he is again, calling me. Doesn’t he know I’m lost, lost to his world? |
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touch the fire, and it freezes me I look into it, and it's black Why can't I feel? I want the fire back So I will Walk through the fire 'Cause where else can I turn? I will Walk through the fire Buffy - OMWF |
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| Walk Through The Fire |
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* * * * * Buffy: Broken here Broken here In a play gone mad In a dance in darkness Is there madness in his eyes? Madness drawing me Again into the turning wheel Breathless, boneless Thrown into the fire Cast into flame of sinew Hand and skin alight * * * * * Spike: Never run again But surrender to the turning Turning, burning Standing in a golden field Twining deep into the holy earth Solitary being, bark, branch and leaf A thousand ways to die A thousand ways to live again * * * * * Buffy: This single thread of life This single silver thread of life Holding me here on this earth Holding me to promises I may never be able to keep Want to keep your love But time has grown dark Here at the edge of existence Here at the center of the storm I have no mooring no safe shore All is wind and ice And the consuming wave * * * * * Spike: I cannot choose the fire for you I cannot make you burn I cannot still your heart from Choosing whatever you must learn But I will be here in darkness In silent love, beneath these bitter skies And I will stay forever by your side For my love one day you’ll rise And choose the fire once again And choose to live, and feel Choose freedom, hope or happiness And walk through fire to me * * * * * |
What is this Darkness? I don’t know what he means when he says he wants me to come into the dark. He’s said it in so many ways. What is this dark place, this darkness? Cold and icy as an abyss? Warm and fragrant as a womb? Or as deep as a clear dark moonless night falling into sky, into stars? And what will I leave behind me as I walk into his darkness? What will die in me, what will be born, be released? I need to know before I fall, but perhaps that’s just the problem with darkness, I will never know, I will never know if it is a step into the sky or a descent into hell. Perhaps the underworld is where I belong, where my true home lies: slayer, betrayer, night wanderer. But can he tell me the difference between dark and light, does he even know? I cannot be forever stretched and chained between two worlds, between this life and death. And what does he really know about darkness anyway? His vision must be bound by the country of the grave, is that all he knows about darkness? Death and Demons? Still, he’s had eons, ages to ponder this. So many silent moments to taste time, to weave through the worlds of a thousand minds. So maybe he just might know something...one thing. For this is all he’s taught me about darkness: the slip of skin against skin, burrowing beneath, entwined entangled, his hands breaking across me in waves of touch, waves of eager joy, each cell within me knowing his name, his voice, kissed with his blood. He flows through me, carves me like an ancient stream bed, his hands trailing into me, into the glimmery soft dawn of skin as fog nestles on the waves. His voice, the timbre low and deep inside me, echoes of universes in a barren cave. I want to live in his voice, calling me, soothing me, lulling me into his fire. His voice is so dark, is darkness, yet burns like fire, burns me down to embers and silver ash. * * * * * I am alive I am awake to the trials and confusion we create There are times when I feel we're about to break When there's too much to say We are home now out of our heads out of our minds Out of this world out of this time Song From ‘Dead Things’ – lyrics/music by Bush Awakening into the Second Side of the Universe "The thing about magic... there's always consequences. Always!" –Spike “Wake up, Buffy, wake up!” Willow shook Buffy by the shoulders as she lay limply in a comatose sleep. “Let me go,” Buffy moaned groggily, she twisted away from Willow’s hands. “Leave me alone.” She curled her body into a tight ball and tried to pull the covers over her head. Willow jerked the covers off her and shouted, “No more! You have to wake up now!” Buffy raised her head and gave Willow a strange look, “Where’s William? I need to talk to William.” “William?” Willow replied with a puzzled look. “Who’s William…oh…you don’t mean Spike do you?” “Spike?” Buffy said with a blank look on her face. “I need William, get William for me.” She said with a bit of desperation in her voice. “Ok, ok, I’ll get ‘William’ for you. But can you get up and get dressed? You’ve been in bed for over four days now. You need to take some more antidote. We’re all worried.” She left the room with a grim look on her face. * * * * * Willow and Xander had a huge argument, the end result being that Xander refused to go and find Spike and tried to prevent Willow from leaving the house. “If you bring that monster in here, I swear I’ll stake him myself.” He threatened. “Get a life Xander, not everything is about you.” Willow hissed and pushed her way past him out the door. An hour later she returned with a reluctant Spike. “What’s her game now, Red?” he muttered as they walked into Buffy’s house. “I’m about at the end of my rope.” “I’d like to see you dangling at the end of a rope,” Xander said harshly as he rushed out of the kitchen and tried to block Spike and Willow from going upstairs. “Get the hell out of my way you stupid git,” Spike roared, morphing into his game face, and throwing Xander to the floor. Spike, cringing in pain, dashed up the stairs with Willow following close behind, leaving a stunned Xander behind them, moaning in pain on the floor. They found Buffy, fully dressed and sitting on a chair, staring blindly out the window. She slowly turned her head as they entered the room. “Leave us alone Willow, William and I have to talk.” she said quietly. “Ok…er…do you want some tea or something?” Willow asked. “No Will, just go away, we don’t need anything now.” she replied. * * * * * Spike sat down on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance from her. “So what do you want now, love?” he said with a tired voice. “You shouldn’t call me love, you know,” she said sadly. “What’s this all about then? Why do want to talk to me now? Thought you wanted me out of your life.” “I don’t want you to die William.” “Buffy, look at me. I’m already dead, Vampire here, remember?” he said with concern. “You’re not really a vampire. That’s just in my mind, in my dark dream. You’re William, my friend, my lo…” she trailed off without finishing her sentence. “Your what?” he said and got up off the bed and knelt down by her chair. “What am I to you?” he gently placed his hand on her knee. “You’re William, hurt and alone and fallen into the dark.” “Listen love, I’m Spike...and William too, I guess, but we’re dead, well undead, and we’re quite used to the dark and being alone. We’re a lot stronger than you suspect.” Buffy tilted her head slightly and looked off into the distance out of the window, a small frown passed over her face as if she were hearing something, something beyond the room, beyond the walls, way beyond the hills and mountains framed by her windowsill. “You keep calling to me and I know I have to help you and the only way is to tell you the truth.” “What truth?” he whispered and his hand unconsciously gripping her knee. “If I love you, you will die.” Some people never return to grace your life with laughter with sorrow they walk through doors they fall into the second side of the universe and disappear The Blood of an Archangel She felt the panic begin to rise inside her chest. Her heart began to pound desperately, seeking a way to escape, must escape. The world began to close in on her, darken around her, all she could feel of her body at this moment was the firm grasp of his hand upon her knee. She felt that she could disappear at any moment, if it weren’t for his hand, his hand upon her knee, and now another hand placed firmly on her shoulder, a strong cool arm slipping around her. She would burn, ignite a fireworks display in a deadly dance across her skin. He was an icy wind, surrounding her with the cold rain of his tears upon her brow. Why was he crying? Stupid vampire, stupid evil vampire, stupid, evil, dead vampire. But he wasn’t a vampire, he was William, and she had to get him back to that other place, and let him go. Had to stop him from loving her, had to keep him from falling. She spoke slowly and carefully, she heard her voice as an echo in a body three feet outside her skin, “If I love you, you will die.” “So?” he said. “Like Angel.” “Yeah, and who else?” “Like Mom.” “Right,” he said, “Someone else on that little list of yours?” “Me.” “News for you Slayer, glad to hear you love yourself, but you’re still alive,” he pulled her tightly against him. “Can smell your blood, feel your heart beating.” She flinched slightly at the touch of his cool skin, and then slowly relaxed into his arms. “Everybody dies, love,” he said, “I’m afraid you can’t think your way out of this, you’re going to have to feel your way.” “I had to kill him.” she said. “I know, I know…he would have killed you, killed those you love. You did the right thing.” “It hurt. Still hurts.” He held her tighter, and kissed her hair, kissed the soft skin of her face. She looked up at him and whispered, “If I hadn’t loved him, made love to him, gave him that one moment of pure joy, I wouldn’t have had to kill him. I took his soul. I’m a soul killer. I opened completely to him, gave myself completely to him and it killed him. And that’s what will happen to you. I’m a soul killer.” “Soul killer,” he laughed. “Love, I don’t have a soul, just a chip. This bad demon here, has loved you, cared for you without benefit of a soul, without a reason to be good, only that I love you. It’s my heart, my blood calling you, not this soul thing…look around you, do you think having a soul makes you good, makes you worthy of life? Do you think humans are good because they have a soul? Wake up, sweetheart. It’s love that makes beings good…real love and heart and feeling.” He loosened his embrace and forced her look straight into his eyes. “Angel without a soul was just plain evil and incapable of love. So what does that say about me who has no soul yet loves you anyway? There’s no curse on me if you love me, no curse for unhappiness or death. The worst has already happened to me. Loving you, making love to you has been the greatest blessing of my entire undead life. So just get over it, will you?” “But…” she began. “Grr…Arghh!!!” he swept her up into his arms and carried her over to the bed, where he dumped her unceremoniously. “Bloody hell woman stop thinking!!” Stunned, she looked up at his angry face, his hair was disheveled and several tufts were sticking out at odd angles making him look like a very bad schoolboy. She started to laugh. He stared in wonderment down at her laughing face, a wave of relief suddenly rising in his heart. “Hair…” she choked, her laughter rendering her speechless. Her laughter deepened. From her throat, down into her body, she was soon shaking all over with sweet waves of laughter. “Glad you find me funny, love, was trying to be serious here,” he smiled. He sat down on the bed next her and placed his hand upon her stomach, and began a slow comforting caress. She pulled him down into her arms and her laughter slid slowly into deep sobs, soon she was crying deeply, sobbing, tears streaming down her face, cleansing her, releasing her. “Cry love, cry it all out, cry out a whole damned ocean, just come back to me,” he wept as he held her. |
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of my ashes he flies rosy winged and silent into the moon full and pregnant with my blood, born to rend my soul now shattered falling, falling each piece given sweetly each piece devoured fiercely each piece its own song singing, crying, waiting breathless for the dawn |
He is the Color of Fire I fall into his eyes before me As blue is bound in northern ice As the sea birthing the sweet rushing wave the cold splash of days breaking against the fire blue fire in ice, languid as the bottomless lake transparent, unrepentant burning a thousand years |
Willow came up to Buffy’s room several hours later, and when she opened the door she found them lying naked upon the bed, deep in sleep, entwined together in a protective embrace. She stood quietly at the doorway looking at the beautiful, sacred scene before her and in her heart she whispered to the Goddess to watch over them and bless them. She softly closed the door and left them to their joy. * * * * * When they awoke it was just past midnight, sometime during their sleep they’d burrowed under the covers for warmth. Buffy stretched out her arms sleepily, accidentally punching Spike in the chin. “Ow, love! Watch those hands!” “You’re strong, you can take it,” she smiled. She ran her hand through his hair. “Why do you bleach your hair?” she asked. “Don’t know, well yes, my real hair color is a strange reddish-brown, scared off the all the girls,” he teased. “Auburn”, she murmured, “I love auburn hair…like scarlet fire on a dark night.”
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