Lost Memories

He’d spent last night in Buffy’s arms. It wasn’t where he wanted to be, but he still cared about Buffy and was willing to provide her the comfort and support she needed. She’d tried to kiss him, but he had refused, telling her he’d no longer settle for anything less than love. He’d thought she’d understood that he no longer loved her. She hadn’t been upset, she’d just smiled and snuggled into him.

It had been nice, having a warm body that close on what very well might be the last night of his existence. He’d spent the entire night awake and studiously avoiding looking at the woman in his arms. If he ignored her hair color and her smell, he could almost pretend it was Willow. Well, as long as he also ignored the muffled sounds of pleasure coming from her room upstairs he could pretend it was her. He truly hated doing that to Buffy, but he figured she owed him at least a little, and what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.

Usually, he worked diligently at isolating Willow’s voice, respirations, and heartbeat from the rest. Sometimes he even imagined her moans and sighs of pleasure were for him, but that wouldn’t do last night. If it was going to be their last night he would take no joy in the pleasure provided to her by someone other than him.

He’d considered cornering her earlier that night, kissing her and having done with it. He thought about giving it all back to her and then pleading for her to join him just for a few hours. He’d tell her that just like before, no one would have to know. She could slip out of her room after her girl was asleep, and he’d be waiting for her. But, he didn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t do that, he’d promised only to give it all back if she needed it, and he knew his pain and desire, his desperate want, had nothing to do with her needs.

Then he’d considered just seducing her, he knew that’d be hard without being able to kiss her, but he’d accomplished more difficult things in his life. They’d hit it off once, right? She was still the same girl she’d been last year, so it could work. The problem was that he wasn’t the same person he’d been a year ago. If he was, he would have given it no further thought, and set to the task at hand. But, as he’d told Buffy, he would no longer settle for less. If he had her again, if by some miracle he was deemed worthy enough to hold her again, he wanted her fully aware of their past. So, he’d just held Buffy and tried not to let his tears fall into her hair.

Now, here he was standing at the opening to the hell mouth. The amulet he’d so willing donned was starting to glow and vibrate with energy. As he felt the first slice of light burn through him, he closed his eyes and tried to conjure her face one last time. This was the end and he knew it.

Buffy reached for his hand, and just like last night, he sought comfort from a woman that could never be what he wanted. He laced his fingers through hers and finally - finally - he forgave her. He hoped that she could someday forgive him, he knew it would be easier for her to do once her was gone and let that thought give him the strength he needed to stand firm while his body was burned from the inside out.

“I Love you”

How he longed to hear those words, and in his dying mind, for a moment, they were spoken from different lips. In one final instant of clarity he saw Buffy’s eyes drowning in tears and offered a small, honest, and exonerating reply.

“No you don’t, but thanks for saying it. Now go.”

She released his hand and though he was on fire, it felt cold at the loss.

“I wanna see how it ends.”