Nothing Makes Sense
by WillowX
[reviews]
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, 20th Century Fox, Mutant Enemy, Sandollar Television and Kuzui Enterprises. Buffy is distributed by 20th Century Fox and the Warner Brothers Television Network.
Nothing Makes Sense
Joyce died today. There was nothing anyone could do. Nothing anyone could say. It was done. The moment had passed. She died ... and the clock kept ticking. She died ... and there was still traffic on the streets. She died ... and no one noticed but us. I'll never understand how something so monumental passed the world by so unnoticed. Sometimes things just don't make sense.
Dawn decided she wanted to stay with us tonight. I don't think she feels comfortable around Buffy. It seems as if she blames Buffy for what happened ... that just doesn't make sense.
I tried my best to lie still in bed as Tara held me tightly. Her grip was strong around my body. She was afraid of letting me go but I was afraid of holding on to her. I loved her ... so much ... but there were feelings inside of me I couldn't deny and I think she felt them too. I wanted what I couldn't have and I had what I didn't want. It just didn't make sense.
I turned on my side and watched Dawn sleeping on the floor of our room. Her face was contorted in pain, her forehead frowned, and her mouth in an unhappy grin. I didn't know it was possible to sleep sad. But it was ... and that just didn't make sense.
The longer I lay still in bed the busier my head became. Loved ones are supposed to bind together in a time of tragedy. They're supposed to find comfort in each others company. Yet here we are, Buffy's highest moment of tragedy, and she effectively shut us all out ... again ... that just didn't make sense.
My best friend was in pain ... alone ... and I was tired of drifting away from her with every passing minute.
So I snuck out of the warm bed I shared with my lover, out of the cozy dorm room we called home, away from the comfort zone I had created, and into the cold night air I went. I had forgotten how empty the streets of Sunnydale were after 2:00 A.M. I hadn't gone out this late since Tara ... and never alone. It wasn't safe. But I couldn't bear the thought of her alone any longer.
The walk to her house seemed to last an eternity. It was amazing how far away places could become when you really needed to get there. A few blocks turned into miles and my mind raced. What will I tell her? What can I tell her?
The more I thought about it the more useless I felt. The truth was ... there was nothing I could say. There was nothing I could do. It was done. The moment had passed. Joyce had died ... yet the clock kept ticking.
"Buffy?" I asked softly as I made my way into the house through the kitchen door. Everything was dark and the house was quiet, yet, I could feel her presence in the room.
"Buffy? Are you there?" I asked again as I made my way into the dinning room. The dim glow of the moonlight shined through the window and Buffy's silhouette was clearly outlined where she sat motionless at the head of the table in the darkness.
"Buffy? Are you ok?" I asked as I stood frozen in place. She didn't flinch. Not even to look at me. She just sat still ... staring at a glass of liquor that sat on the table in front of her. The site of that confused me.
"Buffy ... have you been drinking?" I asked softly.
"No." She responded emotionless.
"What ... what are you doing here in the dark?" I asked ever so cautious. She didn't respond. She still hadn't even looked at me. Her expression was stoic and her eyes seemed to be fixed on something yet nothing at the same time. I made my way towards her slowly and took the seat next to hers at the table.
"Please talk to me." I whispered. She took a deep breath and turned her head slowly until her eyes met mine. I was startled at what I saw. It wasn't sadness ... it wasn't even pain ... it was Slayer-Mode.
"I went on patrol tonight," she began to explain in a monotonous tone, "because it's what I do. It's who I am. Rain or shine I'm the Slayer. It was very uneventful. Very routine. Very boring." I nodded my head as she spoke trying to listen to what she was telling me ... to what she was really saying ...to what she truly felt ... but there was nothing. There was no feeling in her voice.
"After a while I got tired and decided to come home. Two blocks away from here I got jumped my four vamps. I did it Will. I took on all four of them. I didn't even sweat. It was so easy, in fact, that I decided to have a little fun. I tried a few new tricks I had learned. I was kicking ass left and right and enjoying every single second of it. I got so wrapped up in them that I forgot about every thing else. For a moment ... a split second ... I was just the Slayer. A machine. A killing machine." She said clarifying.
"Well Buffy I think that's..." I began to say but she cut me off as if she didn't even hear that I had started speaking.
"I dusted them happily. It felt good ... great even. I was amazed at my own skill. I ran the rest of the way home. I couldn't wait to tell Mom what a good ass kicking I had gotten in tonight. What a great Slayer her daughter was. I knew she'd be waiting for me like she did every night." She paused for a long moment almost as if gathering the strength to say what was coming next.
"Then I remembered." She whispered as she closed her eyes. My heart ached in pain for her.
"I remembered, Will, and it was as if it happened all over again. She died again in my head." She whispered with a shaky voice.
"Oh Buffy..." I began to say as tears streamed down my face but she cut me off with her words again.
"This," she said as she reached out and gripped the glass of liquor that was sitting on the table in front of her, "is single malt scotch. It's what mom used to drink every time I'd piss her off." She took the glass to her nose and inhaled the smell of its contents eagerly. "This smell always reminds me of the time she kicked me out of the house." She said softly and paused to half smile. It was an eerie smile. "For years the smell of this made me cringe. I knew I was really in for it if I smelled this in the air." She proclaimed and slammed the glass back down on the table.
"Now I find this smell comforting ... does that make sense to you?" She asked sarcastically.
"It's ok to be sad." I whispered as I reached for her hand. "It's ok to cry. Even Slayers are allowed to cry. Giles told me so." I said with a smile.
"I'm not sad Willow." She said in a stern voice. "I'm angry!" She growled as a single tear made its way down her face. Instantly her body language changed drastically. She gripped the glass she'd been holding and pushed herself up from her seat with the other hand.
"I'm angry because I wasn't here ... because I couldn't help her ... because I didn't see how sick she was." She said as she paced around the dinning room with her voice escalating.
"I'm angry at the doctors ... for being stupid ... for not taking care of her ... for not fixing her like they were supposed to... like they PROMISED they would!" She blurted out in an angrier tone.
"I'm angry at the world, at the Gods, at the Powers That Be ... at whatever is responsible for choosing me. For making me the Slayer. For making my life so hard. For making me suffer every minute of every day. For making me fight for everyone else. For people I don't love. People I don't know. I save hundreds of people a day Willow and I couldn't save her. My mother! They didn't let me save her! " She screamed at the top of her lungs.
"I HATE THEM WILLOW! I hate them!! I hate them for taking her. They took her Willow!! After all I've done. They took her from me. After all I've sacrificed. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM." She screamed until she ran out of air and her face flushed red with anger. In an act of pure frustration she threw the glass of scotch against the wall with all her might. The sheer force of her throw was such that the glass shattered into a thousand pieces leaving a large wet stain on the wall.
"I hate them." She whispered softly one last time before her body collapsed into tears right where she stood. I ran towards her and kneeled in front of her with my own heart breaking. She was devastated.
"Come here." I said as I pulled her into my arms. This was it. The mighty Slayer had fallen and I felt as the flood of her tears streamed down my shoulder.
"That's it Buffy ... let it all out ... I'm here for you." I whispered to her as I too began to cry. I rocked our bodies back and forth trying my best to soothe her. Her cries were loud and thunderous. The tighter I held her the louder she cried. That's when things started to make sense ... I wasn't supposed to say anything. I was supposed to listen. I didn't have to do anything but hold her. This was exactly where I belonged.
"Nobody knows why these things happen. I don't think it's supposed to. I don't think we were meant to bury our loved ones. I just doesn't seem like we were built for it ... to endure such pain. But it happened. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anybodies fault. It just happened." I whispered to her through tears and her cries intensified.
"What am I supposed to do now?" She moaned in agony.
"Now you have to cry. You have to let it all out Buffy. I'm here. I won't leave. You won't be alone." I assured her.
I sat on the floor rocking her like a baby for hours. My legs were numb and my nose was stuffy but I continued holding her. I'd hold her forever if I had too.
"Thank you." She said with an unfamiliar muffled voice. She didn't even sound this bad when she was sick.
"You should get to bed Buffy. You have to do a lot of things tomorrow." I responded.
"Please don't leave." She asked as she gazed into my eyes. The pale moon lighting her features once again.
"Ok. I'll sleep on the couch." I responded.
"Please come upstairs." She asked softly. My heart froze for an instant but I shrugged it away. My own desires where playing with my head.
We made our way upstairs. Buffy had taken my hand and she wasn't letting go. I couldn't believe the emotional roller coaster she was on and I thanked my busy head for urging me to come over. She really did need me.
When we reached her room she handed me a t-shirt which I assumed was to be my pajama. I looked up to ask and caught a glimpse of her slipping out of her leather pants. The sleek way the pants peeled off of her skin made my heart flutter but I shook the thought out of my head and turned around. This wasn't a time for lusty wrong feelings.
"Will?" She asked softly from behind me.
"Yeah." I yelped in an unusually loud voice without turning.
"Why did you come over tonight?" She asked. I looked down at the t-shirt I was hold and thought about it for a moment.
"Because I was worried about you." I answered after a few seconds.
"Why were you worried?" She asked.
"Because I love you ... Buffy ... you're my best friend." I responded. She was silent for a long moment and I waited quietly for the other shoe to drop. I knew it was coming, I could feel it. My pulse quickened and my heart began to pound.
"Do you love me or are you in love with me?" And hello to the other shoe! Her question was so straight forward I lost my breath. I stood quietly thinking of what to say next.
"Willow... can you please look at me?" She asked softly. I turned slowly to find Buffy standing in the middle the room still holding her pants.
"Why are you asking me this?" I asked. Even in the semi-darkness of her room her stare was intense.
"I've been thinking a lot about life and how quickly it runs through your fingers. My mother's death has given me perspective and I've learned that there are too many things about my life I regret." She conceded softly.
"Such as?" I prompted nervously.
"I'm in love with you. I have been. From the beginning I think. From always." She said and I felt as all the air seeped out of the room.
"And you regret it." I stated interrupting her. Her face quickly morphed into hurt. She didn't expect me to say that at all.
"No. I don't." She said piercing me with her eyes. I looked down nervously to avoid her gaze.
"When I was sitting in the darkness earlier thinking about my mother my life began to flash before my eyes." She began to explain. "My life is so hard Will. I sat there for hours trying to remember the last time I was happy. I mean really happy. I couldn't. That's when it dawned on me ... maybe I was just not meant to be happy. No wonder everything was so hard for me ... I spent my life struggling for the unattainable. Maybe this is what being the Slayer means. Being alone ... suffering in painful silence ... in dark solitude ... and just as I had concluded this, just as I had decided no one in the world loved me ... you walked in." She paused. "It was my darkest moment Willow ... and then you walked in." She finished. I was speechless. I could hardly keep my thoughts straight. My world, as I knew it, was spinning out of control.
Unable to muster to words to respond, I walked towards her slowly. My body was in nervous trembles and I felt as my breathing labored. I took her face into my hands and pulled her towards me softly. Her eyes were filled with emotion and my heart was about to burst.
"I'm in love with you." I whispered inches away from her mouth. She closed her eyes and fresh tears squeezed out. I leaned in closure and kissed her lips. Very softly. Very gently. It was an 'I love you' kiss. My heart was exploding with love. I had never felt that way before. We kissed for several minutes, comforting each other with our lips, until the kiss finally broke.
"Will you hold me tonight?" She asked softly. I nodded in agreement, changed, and climbed into bed. Seconds later Buffy made her way into my arms and snuggled herself to sleep. Again I found myself preoccupied with my thoughts. My world had just been flipped up side down.
Nothing made sense but I guess sometimes they just aren't supposed too.
The End.