Wild Horses

Her breath hitched in her throat as she crouched down in front of the flowing fountain. The night only seemed to stare back at her as she tried to gasp for the unforgiving chalky air. Her heart thudded heavily against her chest as she struggled to keep her breathing under control. She had ran so fast that her feet still hurt from the impact they had against the pavement as she surged through the night.

Spike found her. She found Spike. Or was it not the way it was supposed to be? She couldn’t face him. She felt him there but she couldn’t face him. It was too much too soon. When she had found out from Andrew that Spike was alive, she couldn’t believe it at first. The initial shock had turned into denial. She couldn’t believe it, not when she hadn’t seen it for herself.

And now she had. She had gotten her wish and he was there, except she didn’t know what to do about that. She was beyond hurt, beyond pain. How could he have come back and not tell her?

She didn’t know when her life had gotten so confusing. It was always easy for her to identify one thing from the other. The brief interlude, also known as her second death, had brought her so much pain and confusion, sure, but never anything like this. It was even more difficult to put her head around this one because she was all right. She no longer wanted pain to be inflicted upon her or to cause pain for Spike. She had gotten over her rebirth. So yeah, it scared the hell out of her that she’s rehashing old feelings.

Buffy closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cold marble as she sat on the floor, trying to block out everything but the non-stop sound of the splashing water behind her. It was a welcoming distraction from her raging thoughts, at the very least.

She sighed. When they had become anything less than family, she had no idea. Xander was long out of the equation. Of course, he never would stop being her friend but Anya’s death had taken a toll on him. It was the last of the last straws. She felt guilty. She never wanted this kind of life for her friends; the kind of life where they had to be faced with danger and loss. If she hadn’t entered their life, this never would’ve happened. There wouldn’t have been so much heartache as there currently was.

Willow. Sweet Willow. Willow would have dabbled with the magicks sooner or later, whether or not Buffy entered her life. Her brain was made for that. Her brain was strong enough for that. But perhaps if it wasn’t for her, Willow wouldn’t have gotten as bad as she had. She wouldn’t have turned into Evil Willow, harnessing that kind of dark power. Okay, Buffy wasn’t a total masochist. The last bit was because of Tara. Because Willow couldn’t handle losing Tara. There was a sense of respect embedded there. That Willow could love someone that much as to lose herself. Literally.

Guilt wouldn’t do her any good. It would only serve to anger her even more and she wouldn’t have that. Anger is the bitter pill that everyone needs to avoid taking. She wouldn’t have it because she couldn’t be angry at herself. Not again. Not after everything Spike has had to endure just so she could be better. She loved him too much to make his actions null and void.

She whimpered at that. His denial of her love still hurt like an ice pick to her chest. She knew he knew. His eyes had told her enough truth that he believed her. She could still remember the astonished look on his face. Her heart constricted in her chest as the thought that she had driven him into such as state of desperation that he would find her saying the three words: “I love you” to be the best thing that happened to him in his entire unlife. He hadn’t verbalized it but she knew it was true. His eyes plainly told her that.

So she wept. She wept for herself. She wept for Spike and she wept for the both of them. The life they could’ve had together, the time they could’ve shared. She shook her head to erase the useless fantasies. She knew it wouldn’t be. There was too much. Too much pain from both ends.

Buffy callously wiped the tears staining her cheeks, slowly drying by the breeze of the night air. She was outside but she still felt claustrophobic. She felt as if she was going to hyperventilate any minute now. Her feelings were overwhelming her and she was afraid she would black out from the intensity of it.

Shakily getting up from her none-too-comfortable seat on the floor, she decided to walk home.

~*~

Dear, Spike,

I don’t know how to say this without it feeling like such a goodbye. But it should. Because it is. You know I’m never good with words so I’m going to make this as short as possible. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for treating you the way I did. For not saying the things I wanted to say in time. I guess there’ll never be a right time now. I really don’t know what the point of writing this was. The lines are so blurred. I’ve lost sight of everything. More so than that year I came back. I miss you.

Buffy stopped to take a deep breath as a teardrop fell into the paper making the ink smudge out. She shook her head as if to banish any more meandering thoughts that tried to wheedle itself into her already about-to-explode psyche.

--If you don’t come back to me, I’ll understand. I really want to go to you. But if you’re having the life you want…I just don’t want to cause you to hurt anymore. The first few times were more than enough, right?...

She let out an ironic chuckle at that.

--You probably are mad at me still. That’s why I’m going to leave you alone. But I really, really miss you. I love you. I wish I had said it sooner. I still want you to come back to me.

Yours Always,
Buffy

Buffy slipped the letter into the bottle as she inhaled the musky smell of the sea. It calmed her whenever she journeyed here. She felt like she could send him messages through the sea. It made her feel like she still actually had a connection with him. It had been a routine. Whenever she felt like she needed to talk to Spike, she would write him a letter, put it in a bottle, and sail it towards the open water. Wherever the messages went, she would never know.

A lone tear escaped her eye as she realized that this was the last time she would come here. This was it. Her proper goodbye.

Buffy clutched the bottle in her hands. She couldn’t let it go if she tried. She couldn’t let him go if she tried. Looking down at the bottled-letter and her now white knuckles, she shook her head stubbornly. She sighed and brought the bottle up to her face to leave a kiss on its side.

Buffy sat in the sand as she looked out into the sea. She was going to enjoy it as long as she can. Her eyes hardened as she wrestled with thoughts that told her that the quicker the better. She refused to listen to her mind. She had all the time in the world.

When she felt like she could let it go, Buffy moved closer to the shoreline. “Goodbye, Spike.”

Buffy pushed the bottle into the water but a hand stopped it as it was about to sail into sea.

She looked up to meet dark blue orbs as it reflected the moonlight. A shy look on graced his boyish features, Spike clutched the bottle in his hand. “Hello, luv.”

~*~

Wild Horses

Childhood living, is easy to do.
The things that you wanted, I bought them for you.
Graceless lady, you know who I am.
You know I can't let you, slide through my hands.

And wild horses, couldn't drag me away.
And wild horses, couldn't drag me away.

I watched you suffer, a dull aching pain.
Now you decided, to show me the same.
No sweeping exits, or offstage lines.
Can make me feel bitter, or treat you unkind.

And wild horses, couldn't drag me away.
And wild wild horses, couldn't drag me away.

(I know, I dreamed you a sin and a lie)

Faith has been broken, tears must be cried.
Let's do some living, after we die.

And wild horses, couldn't drag me away.
And wild wild horses, couldn't drag me away.

And wild wild horses, we'll ride them someday.
And wild wild horses, we'll ride them someday.

END