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The tiny thorns delved deeper into her skin as her fist closed around the dead flower. She could smell the blood before it reached the surface of her skin, before the thick liquid burst from her veins out into the open only to dry and shrivel away, just as her heart had done. Her soul. The pain barely registered in her mind as a droplet of blood leaked from her clenched hand. It moved in slow motion, dripping to the floor slowly and creating a spatter of red. It was nothing compared to the tempest of emotion that whirled within her. The fact that the reason for her emotional upheaval had happened so long ago wasn’t lost on the small blonde as she sat on the bathroom floor. It had been too long since he left her. Since he walked away into the night of her Graduation. Since she remembered the Day That Wasn’t. Since she had gone to him and much too long since he had acquired his heartbeat. They had been happy. She had been pregnant and were on their way to the dream life that Buffy had always envisioned with her soul mate. That was until the fatal night when she awoke covered in sweat and blood. A miscarriage. Angel had awoken to her crying and shivering and had proceeded to rush her to the hospital. But there was nothing they could have done. Their baby was gone and it was her fault. Everything was her fault, wasn’t it? How could it not be... that was why he left. Buffy remembered the events after that night clearly. She had slipped into a deep depression after the doctors had told her there was a very slim chance she could ever get pregnant again. Something had been... damaged. Angel had been wonderful, going to the doctor’s office with her and helping her beat what was deemed a terrible disease. But it wasn’t enough. He left. It started out as a fight and had moved into a full-blown scream-fest that resulted in Buffy falling to the floor crying. Angel accused her of always using her "problem" to get out of everything. Then he left her. She remembered hearing from Xander that he was dating another woman, someone named Darci. Two days ago there was an announcement in the newspaper that they were getting married. That was why the knife was sitting next to her. Buffy felt her throat constrict as another sob tore from her lips. How was she expected to move on? How could she when the love of her life was marrying another woman? It wasn’t possible. Not for her. Slowly opening her fist, Buffy fixed her mossy eyes on her bloody palm, the thorns slowly extracting themselves. Her skin was splotchy with the liquid life that ran through her veins. The dead rose slipped from her fingers, falling soundlessly to the floor. It was one of the first flowers Angel had ever given her. On their first official date. It was a white rose, her favorite. But now it only brought back memories that were slowly killing her. How could they have been so happy, yet had so much... anger, towards each other? Breathing in deeply, Buffy pushed herself back against the white-washed wall, wiping her palms against her jeans. The stinging sensation bit against her mind, but she paid no mind. Her eyes had fixed onto the thin knife on the floor. It had a sharp edge that had been sharpened constantly for the last year. It was a kitchen knife that she had received from Anya and Xander as a house warming gift. Now it would be her savior. Buffy could feel the iciness of her fingers as she reached out for the blade. Wrapping them around the black base, she lifted it. It was heavy. So heavy that it slipped from her hand. Startled, Buffy jumped, but quickly grabbed it back from the cold tile. There weren’t any thoughts in her mind as she brought the knife towards her wrist, resting the chilling blade on her skin. Then she pulled it across and watched in numb silence as her blood rushed to the surface as she repeated the action on her other wrist...
"Such pretty wrists... why would you want to do that?" Buffy’s head snapped up at the sound of a voice echoing in the bathroom. Her blurry eyes focused on two figures, a male and female, standing before her. "Who-" "Do not speak," the female said, waving her hand in the air as if to silence her voicing ability. "We do not have much time. You have a choice." Buffy stared at them, her face somber. "I was pretty sure that my choice would be clear." The male shook his head in disgust. "Such a petty way to end one’s life." Buffy opened her mouth to rebuke but the female cut her off. "If you are so willing to argue, then you must have some life still within your soul." "What are you talking about?" Buffy demanded. "You have a choice," the female continued. "It is something similar to what your mate chose. You must listen carefully." "I don’t have a mate," Buffy said softly. The female cocked her head. "Are you so sure? Can you truly say that with such conviction?" "Listen, I didn’t do this to get shrinked," Buffy snapped. "What do you want?" "His young woman is pregnant with his child," the female said. Buffy closed her eyes. "But she is in danger. Your mate is... content with his choice but your choice is this: will you risk your life for theirs, sacrifice yourself for the happiness he could never find with you?" What should have been a hard question was the simplest for her. "In a heartbeat." "Then it is done."
The angel smiled in peace as the man played with his seven-year-old son in the sunshine, their laughter echoing across the park... Fin l be kind, rewind l back to top l
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