RATING: PG-13
TIMELINE: Set sometime in the middle of Season Six of BtVS. Angel's POV.
SUMMARY: Buffy's descent into darkness is something only one person can understand because he caused it...
DISCLAIMERS: Buffy and Vampire Slayer and Angel created by Joss Whedon. All hail this man. Characters do not belong to me.
DISTRIBUTION: E-mail me first.
FEEDBACK: If you want to, e-mail me. If not, then don't.
DEDICATION: Toinette, thanks for the beta-ing. You rock! =D

The wind was but a whistle in her ear and she did not see where her feet were leading her. The rain fell heavy against her soaking her tiny frame. It sent strands of drenched hair in front of her face, which was blocking her view as she fled. She looked forward and saw her hunting ground; the place where she would always be.

Rows and rows of tombstones lay in front of her; all so exquisite. The damned, the unloved, the insane, the killers, the brave, the lovers, the dreamers...the dead---they all resided there. All were now a lost memory in the minds of the mourners. Oh, but those sould did weep. They screamed and yearned to be remembered, howling with indescribable pain in their voices, which was enough to make anyone's heart shatter and fall to their knees and weep with them too. It was sort of how the Slayer's pain was, which was why she came there for she really understood their agony. Their tears became hers and their wails found a way to come forth from her mouth. None of this was a shock to me. Her hunt, her search...it had only really begun here.

Every night I would come and watch her hunt. The Slayer would find her prey and kill it mercilessly. Death was her gift after all. I saw from afar what her friends could not see. The misery that she was drowning in and suffocating from was written all in her eyes. Deep emptiness, loneliness, and no hope were in those deep orbs. Happiness did not lie there and most people that even bothered to look could not tell if it had ever had lied there. But I knew it once had because I had caused it.

The Slayer walked the fine line between dark and light. The light had nurtured her with lies and foolish illusionary ideas of happiness and love. For a time, she had listened because it was what she wanted to hear. She stayed in that denial until she realized that a Slayer was meant to live in the shadows, yet be able to walk in the light too. The blackness had tempted her and drew her near it's breast and engulfed her. She had taken the step over to the dark side. The Slayer tasted darkness and hated herself because she enjoyed it.

Everything had once fallen into place, but it no longer did. She had her soft sighs that had come and her fingers that had intertwined with mine while our lips had locked passionatly never ceasing to stop. My gentle hands, that had roamed over the fastness of her body and had gripped her, never had any intention of letting go. Long ago did her faint, shallow breaths stop. For you see, I had let go. I let her go and she never recovered. The others could not even fathom in their wildest imaginations what that felt like. I had been the first cause of her flight into the darkness.

So I watched her slowly fall away from friends and everything that had once mattered to her. She hated herself for loving it and I hated myself for causing it. But, did I help her? No. The Slayer would come out from her veil of darkness one day. She has the strength to rip herself free from darkness' grasp. Buffy would live in the light once again, I knew.

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