The Monster Under the Bed

There wasn’t a great deal in this world that had the ability to scare him; not since his tenth birthday when his father had sat him down and explained ‘the family business’ to him.

He could list on one hand those things that filled his heart with terror and would drive him gasping, drenched in sweat, from slumber. Losing someone he loved was highest on his list, especially if the method loss was—unnatural. Becoming the very thing he’d spent more than half his life battling was not far below that. Both of these fears he confronted on a daily basis. Every time he sent Buffy on a mission he risked losing the slayer who’d come to mean so much more to him than a mere charge; she was the daughter that, with Jenny’s loss, he firmly believed he’d never have. Every time he accompanied his slayer, or simply stepped foot out of doors after dark he faced the other.

Now he drew a deep, calming breath, his fingers trembling as he made last minute adjustments to the strings. His heart hammered loudly in his chest as he walked towards the stage and prepared to confront his last remaining fear.