Rating: PG-13 with violent themes
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Joss, Mutant Enemy, and Fox.
Spoilers: Everything in Season Four, so far.
Author's Note: This is not a happy little fic. This is just a possible version of the future in my own fucked-up little world. This is the only way I can ever really see the B/R relationship end. Constructive criticism is always welcome, but please, no flames.

Maximum Security Prison, Iowa
2020

A lone set of footfalls echoed through the hallway. The rubber soles of the guard's shoes make no sound as she walks toward her destination. The combined smell of industrial strength cleaner, urine, an desperation cause her to flare her nostrils as she penetrates the deep catacombs known as death row. She realizes, with a jolt, that she has passed her destination. Ignoring the hoots and catcalls from the other inmates, she quietly regards the huddled form before her.

"Finn."

Bedsprings squeak as the figure sits up and looks at the guard. Nothing flickers in the eyes of the prisoner. Just an empty stare.

Again, she tries. "Finn, you have a visitor."

The pale head cocks to one side, silently regarding her.

"Is he here again?" comes the quiet response.

This catches the guard by surprise every week. It amazes her that this normally placid prisoner can come alive so quickly. "She's crazy," the other guards warn. Now, however, the guard cannot be so sure. Something inside seemed to revive. A cracking of the sullen, silent mask the prisoner perpetually wears. A tender expression comes over the prisoner's face, hazel eyes widening as her hand flutters upward to lightly press a well-worn photograph (one of the few that decorate her wall).

It chills the guard to her very core to think that such a delicate, fey-looking creature could commit such a horrible crime...

****

I don't know why you still waste your time, although I suppose you have all the time in the world. Of all the paths my life could have taken, never in a million years did I ever expect for it to end like this. It's easy to testify now, I have all the time I could have wanted to reflect. You've never been far from my mind, not once in twenty years.

Is this the price one should pay for normalcy? I so badly wanted that house with the white picket fence and roses to keep away all the death and darkness of my youth. On the surface, I had it all. A wonderful job, a caring husband, beautiful children and a past involving vampires, demons, witches and a quaint little town on the mouth of hell that I struggled so hard to leave behind. Appearances can be deadly. A young blonde schoolgirl can actually battle demons on a nightly basis. The face of a beautiful man can hide a demon. The perfect life can fall apart. A little farmhouse in Iowa, walks by river with the dogs after Thanksgiving dinner, little hands and feet dragging you from sleep Christmas morning, Easter eggs hunts. They say women marry men who remind them of their father's. With my double life as a slayer of things that go bump in the night, I thought I would skip that equation. Instead, I recreated my parents oh-so-polite marriage with wide smiles and secret, explosive fights. I wanted to be normal for Riley. I almost succeeded. And I resented us both for it. I gave up the most important part of myself to have the kind of life I believed I should want. Long after I stopped loving him, I stayed. We had a wonderful life, a wonderful family. Love seemed a small sacrifice at the time.

How could I protect my family from the hungry eyes in the dark? A creature bent on destroying the oldest, albeit retired, Slayer in history. I just left for an hour, to go to the store. I just needed to get eggs and milk for the morning. I came back to blood everywhere. My babies, Sarah and Mary, who I had brought into this world, torn apart. Riley, who was so strong, but not strong enough. Their pale heads, lying so close together in death. I killed that horrible thing, but the police are strange. They tend not to buy the story of a vampire from a woman with a violent past and an unhappy marriage. My motive: Riley had filed for a divorce. I hadn't even realized...

I must not be that good of an actress.

There was nothing to say, so I said nothing at my arrest, to my lawyers, at my trial. They say I'm not crazy. I'm just a psychopath who needs to be put down for the good of society.

You're the only one who still comes after five years. I can't bear to see people. Maybe I'm a coward, but if I'm going to die I reserve the right to be selfish. It's strange, but in here nothing matters. I'm not the Slayer. I'm no one's friend. No one's daughter. No one's wife. No one's lover. No one's mommy. Prisoner AK10237. Scheduled to die in 1 year, 2 weeks, 3 days...

My body may be here, locked in the guise of a forty year-old convicted felon, but inside, I'm sixteen. I go to school, hide my slayerness from my mom, hang out with Willow and Xander, exacerbate Giles. I even kill demons and keep the world safe for humanity. And you, there's always you. You fill my nights with such love that it's deeply engrained into my blood and bones. My champion. My best friend. My equal.

Please don't come anymore. You suffer and you lose and yet somehow you still love. I can't live up to the memory of that young girl. I survive, it's a slayer instinct. Soon, though, that will be gone. I miss my girls. I just want to find peace. I'm a lost cause. I don't kill monsters anymore. I am one, Angel.

*********

A note passes between the bars. The callused finger tips of the prisoners lightly brush the manicured ones of the guard. The guard opens her mouth to speak, but there's no point. The prisoner's gone again, locked behind the silent wall where she spends her days.

The guard enters the silent room. The pale beauty of the dark-clad visitor hits her stomach with a visceral pain. He rises, black trenchcoat brushing against the back of his vacated chair.

"She's not coming, is she" he asks in a sardonic tone, as if he knew all along.

"No, but-"the guard holds out the note.

She meets his eyes. They light up as the seize upon this precious treasure.

"Will you be back next week?" she asks.

"Always," comes the reply over his shoulder.

The guard watches him leave, suddenly possessed by the desire to go home and clutch her lover and her son close to her. And never let go.

Note: Just in case it's unclear, the prisoner is Buffy. The middle section is the note she sends to Angel, the dark visitor.

Send feedback to Thaea

Back to the Fanfiction Archive