BtVS Fic: Done Crying Over You
Title: Done Crying Over You
Fandom: BtVS
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Buffy, Angelus.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1432
Spoilers: After Passion.
Summary: Angel is gone for good, leaving Buffy grieving what she’s lost, but she can’t bring herself to kill the monster that’s replaced her boyfriend. Not quite yet.
Written For: Weekend Challenge Prompt: Billboard Hits at 1_million_words, using “Big Girls Don't Cry” by The Four Seasons, “Beat It” by Michael Jackson, and “One More Night” by Maroon 5
Disclaimer: I don’t own BtVS, or the characters.
Pulling herself together, Buffy dried her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. Crying wasn’t going to fix anything, and it wasn’t making her feel better, just stuffed up and headache-y, like she was getting a cold. Besides, she was the Slayer, she should be stronger than this. She’d made a mistake, a very costly one, and she wasn’t the only person paying the price for it. She’d just have to learn to live with the consequences. Crying over it all the time was a luxury she couldn’t afford; tears had their place, but they were no substitute for action.
‘Big girls don’t cry,’ a voice in her head reminded her. Who was it who’d told her that? She frowned, trying to bring the distant memory into focus. Then she had it: Mrs Cuthbertson, her teacher in fourth grade. Buffy had been crying because a boy in her class had been picking on her, making fun of her name, calling her Buggy. Mrs Cuthbertson had been super strict and not at all sympathetic; Buffy had gotten in trouble for disrupting the class with her tears while the bully had gone unpunished.
Buffy smiled faintly remembering what had happened when her mom had found out. She’d descended on the school like a vengeance demon or something, confronted Mrs Cuthbertson, berating her for her insensitivity and outdated attitudes, and had reduced the older woman to tears in front of the whole class. The following day, Stuffy Cuthy, as she was privately known, had announced her retirement and a new teacher had taken over the class. Everyone had cheered.
Buffy had been so proud of the way her mom had stood up for her. Part of her wished her mom could fix things for her this time, but she couldn’t; no one could, and anyway, Buffy was seventeen now, not a little kid anymore. She’d long since learned to take responsibility for her actions and to fight her own battles. That was what she needed to do this time, instead of hiding away in her room, wallowing in self-pity, because that was what she was doing. Her heart might be broken, shattered into a gazillion pieces, but she couldn’t let it affect her ability to carry out her Slayer duties.
Checking her appearance in her bedroom mirror and touching up her eyeliner, Buffy pulled her jacket on and slipped out of the window. Giles wouldn’t be pleased if he knew she was so late going out on patrol. She couldn’t let that happen again, especially now, with Angelus stalking the streets. She needed to up her game if she was to have any hope of defeating him before more innocents lost their lives to him.
The trouble was, Angelus knew her better than any vampire should. He knew her strengths and weaknesses, her fighting techniques, her regular patrol routes. He knew who her friends were, and where they lived. He knew all the intimate details of her life, and after their one night together, he knew every inch of her body.
She’d known Angel almost as well, but Angelus wasn’t the same person. He was more than Angel’s mirror universe double, his evil twin, more than simply dangerous in the way of most vamps. He was a sadistic monster who delighted in tormenting and torturing his victims, driving them relentlessly into insanity. He’d no doubt try to do the same to her, revenge for making Angel love her, so she needed to keep her guard up anytime she happened to run into him.
So far, he was only toying with her, using his resemblance to the man she’d loved to keep her off-balance, and she really needed to stop letting herself be manipulated so easily. It was just that whenever she saw him, she couldn’t keep from remembering the man he’d been before, replaying that one precious night together over and over in her head, and wishing they could have one more night together before she was forced to destroy him. One more night that might, perhaps, make him love her again.
It was wishful thinking, of course; the curse didn’t work like that. One moment of complete happiness, and POOF, Angel’s soul was gone. The only way to restore it would be if the spell that had cursed him in the first place was re-cast, and Ms Calendar had died while trying to recreate it, so Buffy had to accept that Angel was gone for good. Angelus was in control of the body they’d shared, and somehow, she would have to kill him. She just didn’t know how. It would be so much easier if she could blame him for what had happened instead of blaming herself. Well, she was working on that.
She was so deep in thought as she walked, barely paying attention to where she was going, that she didn’t register the vamp’s presence until they were already fighting, her body responding automatically to the threat. This one was fast, agile, and the fight was just what she needed to take her mind off her problems, an outlet for all her tangled emotions. It felt good to let loose, channelling all her anger and frustration into the battle. She blocked a savage blow, kicked the vamp’s knee, feeling something give, and pressed her advantage as her opponent stumbled backwards. Then a familiar voice cut through the darkness.
“Beat it, she’s mine! Besides, you’ve already lost, you just don’t know it yet.”
Snarling, his angry eyes darting between Buffy and the new arrival, the vampire slowly withdrew, then turned, limping away into the night.
Buffy stood still, waiting.
“Playing with someone else?” Angelus tutted. “Where’s the loyalty?” Slowly he walked around until he was standing in front of her, perhaps twenty feet away, hands in his pockets, casual as you please.
“What d’you want?”
“Buffy,” Angelus chided gently. “Is that any way to greet your lover? I thought your mom raised you better than that.”
“You leave my mom out of this!” Buffy snapped. “And you’re not Angel, you just wear his face.”
“More than his face.” Where Angel would have smiled, warm and teasing, Angelus smirked, taunting her. “You could have all of this again if you just stopped fighting it. We could be together. Isn’t that what you want?”
“Never.”
“You can’t win, Buffy, you’re deluding yourself if you think you can. I’m going to take everything from you, everyone you love, one at a time, until you’ve got nothing left, and then I’ll come for you, and you’ll be begging to join me.” Angelus’ voice was almost a purr.
“Now who’s deluded? The more you try to hurt me, the stronger you make me. Truth is, you won’t face me in a fight because you know you’d lose. I could’ve easily killed you the last time.”
“Then why didn’t you?” Angelus didn’t wait for a reply. “I’ll tell you why. You couldn’t do it, couldn’t look me in the face and finish the job because it would have been like killing your sweetheart. You still think you can get him back!”
“No.” Buffy shook her head. “You took care of that when you killed Ms Calendar. Angel’s gone; I’ve accepted that.”
“And yet I’m still here.” Angelus held his arms out to his sides, taking a slow step backwards. “The question is, what are you gonna do about it?”
Locking eyes with him, Buffy idly tossed her stake end over end before drawing her arm back and throwing it as hard as she could, point first at the broad expanse of his chest. But he was no longer there, gone in a swirl of his long coat, his mocking laughter drifting back to her on the cool night air.
A heavy sigh escaped Buffy’s lips as she went to retrieve her stake, plucking it off the ground and sliding it back up her sleeve. She felt hollow inside. Angelus was right about one thing: killing him wasn’t going to be easy. Not because she wasn’t a match for him, she’d fought and defeated stronger vampires, but because part of her still wanted to believe, despite all evidence to the contrary, that Angel was still in there somewhere.
She would kill Angelus, she had to, not simply because it was her duty as the Slayer, but because she needed him to pay for every taunt and every cruelty he’d already inflicted on her, for every life he’d taken. She wanted him to suffer. She hated him, but not enough, not quite yet, and maybe that was okay.
She could wait.
The End
Fandom: BtVS
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Buffy, Angelus.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1432
Spoilers: After Passion.
Summary: Angel is gone for good, leaving Buffy grieving what she’s lost, but she can’t bring herself to kill the monster that’s replaced her boyfriend. Not quite yet.
Written For: Weekend Challenge Prompt: Billboard Hits at 1_million_words, using “Big Girls Don't Cry” by The Four Seasons, “Beat It” by Michael Jackson, and “One More Night” by Maroon 5
Disclaimer: I don’t own BtVS, or the characters.
Pulling herself together, Buffy dried her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. Crying wasn’t going to fix anything, and it wasn’t making her feel better, just stuffed up and headache-y, like she was getting a cold. Besides, she was the Slayer, she should be stronger than this. She’d made a mistake, a very costly one, and she wasn’t the only person paying the price for it. She’d just have to learn to live with the consequences. Crying over it all the time was a luxury she couldn’t afford; tears had their place, but they were no substitute for action.
‘Big girls don’t cry,’ a voice in her head reminded her. Who was it who’d told her that? She frowned, trying to bring the distant memory into focus. Then she had it: Mrs Cuthbertson, her teacher in fourth grade. Buffy had been crying because a boy in her class had been picking on her, making fun of her name, calling her Buggy. Mrs Cuthbertson had been super strict and not at all sympathetic; Buffy had gotten in trouble for disrupting the class with her tears while the bully had gone unpunished.
Buffy smiled faintly remembering what had happened when her mom had found out. She’d descended on the school like a vengeance demon or something, confronted Mrs Cuthbertson, berating her for her insensitivity and outdated attitudes, and had reduced the older woman to tears in front of the whole class. The following day, Stuffy Cuthy, as she was privately known, had announced her retirement and a new teacher had taken over the class. Everyone had cheered.
Buffy had been so proud of the way her mom had stood up for her. Part of her wished her mom could fix things for her this time, but she couldn’t; no one could, and anyway, Buffy was seventeen now, not a little kid anymore. She’d long since learned to take responsibility for her actions and to fight her own battles. That was what she needed to do this time, instead of hiding away in her room, wallowing in self-pity, because that was what she was doing. Her heart might be broken, shattered into a gazillion pieces, but she couldn’t let it affect her ability to carry out her Slayer duties.
Checking her appearance in her bedroom mirror and touching up her eyeliner, Buffy pulled her jacket on and slipped out of the window. Giles wouldn’t be pleased if he knew she was so late going out on patrol. She couldn’t let that happen again, especially now, with Angelus stalking the streets. She needed to up her game if she was to have any hope of defeating him before more innocents lost their lives to him.
The trouble was, Angelus knew her better than any vampire should. He knew her strengths and weaknesses, her fighting techniques, her regular patrol routes. He knew who her friends were, and where they lived. He knew all the intimate details of her life, and after their one night together, he knew every inch of her body.
She’d known Angel almost as well, but Angelus wasn’t the same person. He was more than Angel’s mirror universe double, his evil twin, more than simply dangerous in the way of most vamps. He was a sadistic monster who delighted in tormenting and torturing his victims, driving them relentlessly into insanity. He’d no doubt try to do the same to her, revenge for making Angel love her, so she needed to keep her guard up anytime she happened to run into him.
So far, he was only toying with her, using his resemblance to the man she’d loved to keep her off-balance, and she really needed to stop letting herself be manipulated so easily. It was just that whenever she saw him, she couldn’t keep from remembering the man he’d been before, replaying that one precious night together over and over in her head, and wishing they could have one more night together before she was forced to destroy him. One more night that might, perhaps, make him love her again.
It was wishful thinking, of course; the curse didn’t work like that. One moment of complete happiness, and POOF, Angel’s soul was gone. The only way to restore it would be if the spell that had cursed him in the first place was re-cast, and Ms Calendar had died while trying to recreate it, so Buffy had to accept that Angel was gone for good. Angelus was in control of the body they’d shared, and somehow, she would have to kill him. She just didn’t know how. It would be so much easier if she could blame him for what had happened instead of blaming herself. Well, she was working on that.
She was so deep in thought as she walked, barely paying attention to where she was going, that she didn’t register the vamp’s presence until they were already fighting, her body responding automatically to the threat. This one was fast, agile, and the fight was just what she needed to take her mind off her problems, an outlet for all her tangled emotions. It felt good to let loose, channelling all her anger and frustration into the battle. She blocked a savage blow, kicked the vamp’s knee, feeling something give, and pressed her advantage as her opponent stumbled backwards. Then a familiar voice cut through the darkness.
“Beat it, she’s mine! Besides, you’ve already lost, you just don’t know it yet.”
Snarling, his angry eyes darting between Buffy and the new arrival, the vampire slowly withdrew, then turned, limping away into the night.
Buffy stood still, waiting.
“Playing with someone else?” Angelus tutted. “Where’s the loyalty?” Slowly he walked around until he was standing in front of her, perhaps twenty feet away, hands in his pockets, casual as you please.
“What d’you want?”
“Buffy,” Angelus chided gently. “Is that any way to greet your lover? I thought your mom raised you better than that.”
“You leave my mom out of this!” Buffy snapped. “And you’re not Angel, you just wear his face.”
“More than his face.” Where Angel would have smiled, warm and teasing, Angelus smirked, taunting her. “You could have all of this again if you just stopped fighting it. We could be together. Isn’t that what you want?”
“Never.”
“You can’t win, Buffy, you’re deluding yourself if you think you can. I’m going to take everything from you, everyone you love, one at a time, until you’ve got nothing left, and then I’ll come for you, and you’ll be begging to join me.” Angelus’ voice was almost a purr.
“Now who’s deluded? The more you try to hurt me, the stronger you make me. Truth is, you won’t face me in a fight because you know you’d lose. I could’ve easily killed you the last time.”
“Then why didn’t you?” Angelus didn’t wait for a reply. “I’ll tell you why. You couldn’t do it, couldn’t look me in the face and finish the job because it would have been like killing your sweetheart. You still think you can get him back!”
“No.” Buffy shook her head. “You took care of that when you killed Ms Calendar. Angel’s gone; I’ve accepted that.”
“And yet I’m still here.” Angelus held his arms out to his sides, taking a slow step backwards. “The question is, what are you gonna do about it?”
Locking eyes with him, Buffy idly tossed her stake end over end before drawing her arm back and throwing it as hard as she could, point first at the broad expanse of his chest. But he was no longer there, gone in a swirl of his long coat, his mocking laughter drifting back to her on the cool night air.
A heavy sigh escaped Buffy’s lips as she went to retrieve her stake, plucking it off the ground and sliding it back up her sleeve. She felt hollow inside. Angelus was right about one thing: killing him wasn’t going to be easy. Not because she wasn’t a match for him, she’d fought and defeated stronger vampires, but because part of her still wanted to believe, despite all evidence to the contrary, that Angel was still in there somewhere.
She would kill Angelus, she had to, not simply because it was her duty as the Slayer, but because she needed him to pay for every taunt and every cruelty he’d already inflicted on her, for every life he’d taken. She wanted him to suffer. She hated him, but not enough, not quite yet, and maybe that was okay.
She could wait.
The End