Spoilers: Becoming Part 2
Summary: Buffy meets someone after leaving Sunnydale, and they share
their stories.
Disclaimer: Buffy and all related events belong to Joss Whedon. Erik
and all his story belong to Marvel Comics and appear in Thunderbolts.
::I'm so... so sorry. It's all my fault. I failed you -- like
I've failed everyone else -- :::
-Thunderbolts #16
Buffy stared into her rapidly cooling cup of coffee blankly, the soft strains of a Shania Twain song washing over her. Her hands were clasped around the Styrofoam cup, more out of a lack of anything else to do with them than in a desire for warmth.
Her eyes, though red rimmed, were dry. She had cried her fill since she had left Sunnydale behind. Now, she was just... empty. Buffy didn't think, she didn't feel -- it was the only way to keep the agony from sparking back through her.
She was numb.
There was somebody standing over her, hesitating. Buffy didn't look up. She didn't care who it was, she didn't care about anything.
"May I sit down?" a rumbling male voice finally spoke.
Buffy finally lifted her head, with agonizing slowness. She had expected to see another oily man ready to move in on the apparently helpless teenager and already had a denial forming on her lips. It never crossed them.
Whatever the man may have been, it wasn't a predator. He was large and muscular, but his eyes had a deep sorrow that struck a chord in Buffy. He gestured around the small dinner. "All the other tables are taken," he explained.
Buffy nodded, slightly surprised by her response. She didn't want to be with anybody, she didn't want to deal with the small talk and questions that were always directed towards her. But, somehow, she had the feeling that this man wouldn't be asking about her hometown and where she was headed.
He smiled briefly, an expression that didn't reach his eyes, and sat down at the booth across from Buffy. He set his coffee down and mimicked Buffy's position, his large hands clasped around the cup.
They sat in silence for a long moment. "Buffy," she said finally, forcing her name out past her constricted throat.
His head jerked up in surprise, as if he had forgotten that she was there with him. He hesitated a moment, and Buffy thought that he wouldn't answer. She wondered what had made her speak in the first place. Her eyes had shifted back to the placid surface of her coffee before he finally responded. "Erik."
Buffy lifted her head, darting a quick, drawn smile towards him in acknowledgment.
They each slid back into an isolated silence, both lost to their own thoughts.
"Erik?" Buffy said suddenly. The familiar image of Angel, his eyes wide with shock and confusion, his hands reaching out to her beseechingly, had risen in her mind once again. The haunting image was enough to make a quiver of pain threaten the comforting numbness.
"What?" His voice was raw with pain when he answered.
"Trade stories? You tell me your pain, I'll tell you mine," Buffy replied. He looked about ready to bolt at her question, so Buffy quickly altered her request. "Or maybe, you could just listen...?"
"No... I need someone to talk to. And at the moment, you're the only person I have." The spark of sorrow in his eyes ignited briefly at that statement.
Their eyes met, and they stared at each other uncomfortably. Each of them needed to speak, but neither of them knew how to begin. They had been silent for so long, and it was a habit that was hard to break.
Erik cracked first. "My brother... he's dead. It was all my fault, and I couldn't even save him!" His voice was shaking. Erik's hands unconsciously clenched around the cup he held, sending the lukewarm liquid splashing across the scarred tabletop.
Neither of them moved to clean it. "My lover is dead. It was my fault twice over, and I couldn't save him!"
"My family was ruined, shamed, and destroyed because of my actions. I did something that I knew was wrong without a thought of what it would mean for those who I left behind..."
"He was lost to me because I was a selfish little girl. And I lost my last chance to make things right because I wasn't fast enough! I saw him die -- begging me to explain why he was hurting, and I couldn't!" Buffy's voice was filled with self recrimination, and tears threatened to end their absence.
"My brother died in my arms, only hours after I had gone to him to try and set things right." Erik looked down at his hands, as if expecting to see his brother's blood still coating them.
"I walked out on my mother, and she doesn't want me back. She never understood me, I was always too much trouble. She deserved better than me."
"I betrayed the man who saved my life. He trusted me, and I turned on him," Erik countered.
"I always hurt my friends -- they've suffered so much because of my presence in their lives. And now, they're hurting because I left them. Everybody whose life I touch, I hurt." The tears began trickling down Buffy's pale cheeks as the memory of her friends standing before the school surfaced in her mind. Willow, in her wheelchair. Giles, bruised and bandaged. Xander, his arm held in a cast. And they had all looked so worried... so lost.
Erik cast a brief, sympathetic glance at her before returning to his own misery. "I betrayed the woman that I cared for, I abandoned my friends when they needed me. I... I always end up betraying somebody..." The memory of Dallas' face sent pain stabbing through his heart. The look of betrayal on her face had been heartbreaking -- and knowing what had happened to her afterwards didn't help his concience any. And what of his team? How would they fare without him?
The air around them was thick with tension and unspoken memories. Erik finally tore his eyes away from the girl's tearing ones and grabbed a napkin, swiping at the spreading coffee puddle.
"So, do we offer the wise advise that usually comes at this point or leave it as is?" Buffy choked out, cutting through the suddenly uncomfortable silence which had claimed them.
Erik looked at her, a tight smile determinedly forced onto his lips. "Nah. I've fucked up my own life quite enough -- I don't think I'm the best person to be telling someone else how to fix theirs."
"I can understand that," Buffy replied. She glanced down at her watch and sighed softly. Time to get moving again. "I've gotta go, my bus is coming soon..." Buffy said, standing up and sliding out of the booth.
"I should be going too," Erik said, following Buffy's actions. He held his hand out to her, and Buffy's hand met his own. "It was nice meeting you, Buffy... And I hope that everything turns out well for you."
"Same to you, Erik."
With one last smile, this one slightly less sorrowful, Buffy headed out the door. Maybe, one day soon, she'd try and make things right.
~End~
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