Part Two

 So lost that Buffy despaired of ever finding her way back.

 Figuratively and literally.

 Seeing the sudden futility of walking aimlessly—and suspecting it was doing little more than drag her further to a place she couldn’t be saved—Buffy abruptly halted.  Closing her eyes, she sought out something—a sign that might help her locate a path to somewhere rather than the road to nowhere that she currently followed.

 Lids flying open, Buffy deflated.  There was nothing.  A big fat nothing in a big fat wasteland of stark uselessness.  It served her right for not focusing on the large cat leading her to the rendezvous of her life.  Served her right for getting lost in the mess that was her existence, staring at the moon and wandering completely away from where the gentle kitty had been leading her.

 If she wasn’t so mad at herself Buffy had the suspicion she might cry.

 Hugging her brown suede coat to her sides, hands in deep, extra toasty pockets, Buffy contemplated her current fix.  She’d been out here forever now and unless Giles had more faith in her slayery abilities not to starve to death, she was kind of hoping he’d gone home for reinforcements.

 Home.  The place where an evil hellgod was dwelling, biding her time till she grew smart enough to work out what Buffy was really protecting above all else—thus finally locating the precious key to open up dimensions and lead her to her true home.  Which could happen at any moment, and here was Buffy, indulging in her own fears, her own melodramas and getting so lost in the freaking desert that she was no help to anyone.

 At least Spike was there if the gang got into any trouble.  As much as he groused, Buffy knew he’d protect Dawn.  She didn’t know how she knew—didn’t even know if she much cared for the why, if his fake love declarations meant her family was safe.  The important thing was that if anything happened to her, Spike would be there to take up the slack.

 Her legs tired from wandering aimlessly for what felt like days—and probably was—Buffy sidled up to a huge rock and plopped down on it, misery bearing heavily upon her shoulders.

 She couldn’t ignore the possibility she might die out here, that she may never return to Sunnydale, but as soon as she’d thought it a chill settled over her.  What if she wasn’t there at all anymore? What if she followed her mom to Heaven and left Dawn all alone?  Buffy trembled at her weakness.  Sure, she was exhausted emotionally, and physically she could definitely benefit from a week in the sun where monsters were too afraid to go, but to apathetically accept leaving this world behind and succumbing to death, was that really what she wanted?  Was she doing anyone a favour but herself?

 Not that thought mattered.  Not when the thought of being warm, encased in love and feeling finished almost enticed her to stay in the desert forever.  If she was less devoted to her duty, Buffy had little doubt she’d do just that.  Giving up was a small step to take when on a losing streak, that just about everything that meant anything was drifting away without any hope of becoming fixed and certain.

 At least, it certainly wouldn’t be hard at all if there was a TV somewhere for her to while away the time until the vultures came to peck her bones clean.

 Buffy pouted.  Who was she kidding? Her own death wouldn’t be a gift to anyone, let alone herself, and if she could just get passed this funk she might actually see the plenty there was left to live for.  In a daze she peered out into the darkness, searching for that one thing to give her hope.  The scenery was as silent and dark as it had been for hours and she re-entered her own mind for further introspection.  Maybe that was the whole point of this sacred gig, anyhow?

 Suddenly Spike’s guilty smile and unruly white curls flashed into her mind and no matter how Buffy struggled against feeling the image in her heart, it settled there and she acknowledged that Sunnydale meant more to her than just her family and friends.  Her memories of the place were strong and Spike made up a number of them.  He’d entered her life as an enemy and made the transition to would-be lover and while Buffy dwelled on how deluded he was, she refused to even contemplate how flattered she felt.

 No one had ever chained her up and professed to love her so much that they’d kill their maker for her, and while that thought should have been completely deranged, Buffy felt her lips turn up in the barest of smiles.  It was kind of cute in the way that anything vampiric and soulless could be when true evil had been sidestepped thanks to an Initiative chip in his head.

 Once the thoughts of Spike tumbled into her head, Buffy found herself quite incapable of stopping the onslaught.  It wasn’t quite the answer she’d been looking for while freezing her ass off in the desert but it sure beat lying down and giving up.  She had her pessimistic moments but truly she believed things had a way of working out.  Well, sure, her mom didn’t seem to be on that list and while Buffy tried to close her heart to the ache of fresh grief, she remembered all the things in her life that had worked out for the best.

 Angel.

 His leaving her had almost broken her and she wanted to hurt him for believing he had the right to take that decision out of her hands. In the long run, he’d made a home for himself in L.A. and was doing pretty well there—even if he did have Cordelia and her cleavage hanging all over him.  He was saving people, helping people, and wasn’t that what they were all about?

 It suddenly hit Buffy how right she was with that.  Giving up her boyfriend for the greater good of the human race seemed entirely okay all of a sudden.  She had her own greater good to worry about—keeping Dawn from opening any mysterious doors to dimensions that were likely to converge on them and kill them all.  The fact that Angel wasn’t at her back hardly felt like a loss anymore.  Not when Spike was so devotedly filling in his overly-bulky shadow… filling it in kind of nicely if she wanted to allow herself the truth.

 Spike had always been there, she realised.  Right back to when she needed something unusual and unpredictable to fight against Angel.  He’d been the one to give her a way to fight, a way to save Giles, a way to save the world by defeating Acathla and putting everything ahead of her love for Angel.  If she’d truly loved him, could she have done that?  If he was the absolute love of her life wouldn’t she have chosen to follow him to eternal hell than to merely run away?  Giles and everyone had thought her brave…courageous, but she’d been nothing but a coward.  She’d chosen her own life over Angel’s.  Sure, she’d cried, convinced herself she had to kill the only man she’d ever love to do her duty, but the truth was, she’d done her duty.  No thought, just instinct. 

 It had hurt to be kissed by a recovered Angel only to shove her sword through his chest, but it was the dream that hurt—a dream she’d been living off for years.  Angel had never truly been there for her, never fought with her or protected her when he was supposed to.  How could a relationship based on nothing but the physical be ultimately satisfying?  It had no chance and the realisation felt like a ton of guilt and sorrow lifted from her shoulders.

 Buffy giggled.  Another example of things working out for the best.  If she was about to perish in the desert then it surely didn’t hurt to have an epiphany. Especially one that left her heart a whole lot lighter.

 So it stood to reason that she would turn to contemplating what might eventually fill that brand new space.  There’d been no room for Riley—she couldn’t help but understand that now, and while the guilt did sting a little, Buffy refused to beat herself up about it.  There had been a lot going on for her right from the moment she’d first met the solid and sturdy TA and while he’d grounded her in a way no other man could have, he’d failed to replace Angel in her heart and mind.  It was confusing why that was—it wasn’t like Angel had been in their face the entire time.  But he had been there, and Buffy had been incapable of shutting him out.

 Until Riley had left her.

 She was racking up quite a boyfriend body count.

 It dented her pride that she’d lost the fight for Riley.  What it hadn’t done, and probably should have, was dent her heart.  Granted she’d had the loss of her mom to contend with, but not having Riley in her heart to begin with made it a whole lot easier to heal.  Now that she’d ousted Angel she was a new, full-hearted Buffy, ready to commit if ever she saw the opportunity for moving on.

 If she survived this perilous and useless search for answers.