(no subject)
For Maddie (blackeyedpotato), who asked for more Warren/Willow. Okay, you didn't say Wishverse but I took some creative liberties with your request.
Story Name: Rest in Peace.
Story Genre: Buffy: The Vampire Slayer
Story Rating: T, I think.
Pairing: Warren/Willow
Summary: (Sometime before Season 3, Wish-verse AU) Sunnydale was rapidly changing from Derry to Jerusalem’s Lot, in his mind. With everything that entailed.
Warnings: No Happy Ending.
A/N: This is not the sequel to ‘Technobabble’. It is a possible sequel to ‘Technobabble’, but isn’t really, due to the previous fic being set in the canon Buffy universe. This is a Christmas fic for Maddie. I’m sorry about it not having a happy ending, but if you’ve seen ‘The Wish’ and ‘Dopplegangland’, you know how this fic ends. Besides, any fic which doesn’t end up with Warren skinned makes it a happy ending by default right? *shot*
The computer class was almost empty. The mysterious disappearances and deaths of many of the students had left a small group of survivors huddled in the corners of the room. Probably not the people that should have survived either. Fine, so the guitarist could handle himself in a fight and Marcie Ross, for all of her sweet and unnoticeable demeanour at school, had killed more vampires than almost all of the school, but how Tara or Andrew had managed to live more than two years in this town was a mystery to him.
And he was supposed to be one of the smart ones. Probably the smartest, since…yeah.
With the possible exception of Oz, he’d been tying with her for top of the class since he moved here. He hadn’t realised that girls could be that smart before and it had changed his views on, most but not all of the female gender. He still despised Cordelia and her little band of sluts, but that was okay, since she had disliked them too.
He hadn’t watched her die. She had phoned him to ask whether or not she could come over to finish the program that they were working on for a bet. She had betted that Area 51 not only did not exist, but was a lie to misdirect people away from the real truth. He had believed that it existed, but was a training camp for super soldiers intended to target and neutralise anarchists and had nothing to do with aliens at all.
She had never shown up.
He had phoned the police after an hour and then, as a precaution, locked all of the doors and windows. They had found her dead the next day, metres from her front door, with a pair of marks on her neck and no blood. Everyone knew what that meant, even if they didn’t believe it.
Sunnydale was rapidly changing from Derry to Jerusalem’s Lot, in his mind. With everything that entailed. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to be the poor bastard that fell down the stairs near the end. Because that bit sounded painful.
He had gone to her funeral, although he hadn’t said anything. He didn’t need to say anything to remember how much she had meant to him and how much he missed her. The way her hair swayed when she laughed, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. The way she looked at everyone like they were the most important person in the world, even the people that others missed out.
Even him.
He wished that her funeral had been the last time he saw her.
Or at least, what she’d become.
She hadn’t done the cliché ‘tap on the window’ stunt. Apparently vampires couldn’t actually fly, which was one good thing at least. Instead, she had knocked on the door. He had been lucky and had opened it himself. If his parents had opened it instead…no, that wouldn’t have been good for anyone.
She had tried to convince him that she was real, that she hadn’t died and that he could let her in. He had remained silent. He didn’t usually trust his instincts when they clashed with his intellect, but just because he didn’t trust them, didn’t mean that he didn’t have them. And they were telling him what he already knew.
That bitch wasn’t Willow. And sooner or later, he would look into her cold, dead eyes and prove it. To her, to himself, to the world.
And maybe then he would be able to mourn her in peace.
"This world’s no fun."
"You noticed that too?" -- Wish-verse and canon Willow, ‘Dopplegangland’.
Story Name: Rest in Peace.
Story Genre: Buffy: The Vampire Slayer
Story Rating: T, I think.
Pairing: Warren/Willow
Summary: (Sometime before Season 3, Wish-verse AU) Sunnydale was rapidly changing from Derry to Jerusalem’s Lot, in his mind. With everything that entailed.
Warnings: No Happy Ending.
A/N: This is not the sequel to ‘Technobabble’. It is a possible sequel to ‘Technobabble’, but isn’t really, due to the previous fic being set in the canon Buffy universe. This is a Christmas fic for Maddie. I’m sorry about it not having a happy ending, but if you’ve seen ‘The Wish’ and ‘Dopplegangland’, you know how this fic ends. Besides, any fic which doesn’t end up with Warren skinned makes it a happy ending by default right? *shot*
The computer class was almost empty. The mysterious disappearances and deaths of many of the students had left a small group of survivors huddled in the corners of the room. Probably not the people that should have survived either. Fine, so the guitarist could handle himself in a fight and Marcie Ross, for all of her sweet and unnoticeable demeanour at school, had killed more vampires than almost all of the school, but how Tara or Andrew had managed to live more than two years in this town was a mystery to him.
And he was supposed to be one of the smart ones. Probably the smartest, since…yeah.
With the possible exception of Oz, he’d been tying with her for top of the class since he moved here. He hadn’t realised that girls could be that smart before and it had changed his views on, most but not all of the female gender. He still despised Cordelia and her little band of sluts, but that was okay, since she had disliked them too.
He hadn’t watched her die. She had phoned him to ask whether or not she could come over to finish the program that they were working on for a bet. She had betted that Area 51 not only did not exist, but was a lie to misdirect people away from the real truth. He had believed that it existed, but was a training camp for super soldiers intended to target and neutralise anarchists and had nothing to do with aliens at all.
She had never shown up.
He had phoned the police after an hour and then, as a precaution, locked all of the doors and windows. They had found her dead the next day, metres from her front door, with a pair of marks on her neck and no blood. Everyone knew what that meant, even if they didn’t believe it.
Sunnydale was rapidly changing from Derry to Jerusalem’s Lot, in his mind. With everything that entailed. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to be the poor bastard that fell down the stairs near the end. Because that bit sounded painful.
He had gone to her funeral, although he hadn’t said anything. He didn’t need to say anything to remember how much she had meant to him and how much he missed her. The way her hair swayed when she laughed, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. The way she looked at everyone like they were the most important person in the world, even the people that others missed out.
Even him.
He wished that her funeral had been the last time he saw her.
Or at least, what she’d become.
She hadn’t done the cliché ‘tap on the window’ stunt. Apparently vampires couldn’t actually fly, which was one good thing at least. Instead, she had knocked on the door. He had been lucky and had opened it himself. If his parents had opened it instead…no, that wouldn’t have been good for anyone.
She had tried to convince him that she was real, that she hadn’t died and that he could let her in. He had remained silent. He didn’t usually trust his instincts when they clashed with his intellect, but just because he didn’t trust them, didn’t mean that he didn’t have them. And they were telling him what he already knew.
That bitch wasn’t Willow. And sooner or later, he would look into her cold, dead eyes and prove it. To her, to himself, to the world.
And maybe then he would be able to mourn her in peace.
"This world’s no fun."
"You noticed that too?" -- Wish-verse and canon Willow, ‘Dopplegangland’.