DISTRIBUTION : With My Permission ONLY! Ask for it at
SONG : The Song is "It Doesn't Matter" by Allison Krauss and Union Station. It was featured in "When She Was Bad" in Season Two.
AUTHORS NOTES : Its an angsty sad piece, but its not your normal b/a piece. Its kinda my POV on what will happen if Joss screws up the seasons any more. :) Hope you enjoy it!
DISCLAIMER : I don't own Buffy or Angel or any of the characters mentioned. DONT SUE CUZ I DONT GOT NO MONEY!
FEEDBACK : Feedback is worshipped. I was kinda disappointed not that many people replied to "You Know You Hate Riley When...List 3" but sigh. Like I said, feedback is worshipped.
And now the fic.

It doesn't matter what I want
It doesn't matter what I need
It doesn't matter if I cry
Don't matter if I bleed
You've been on a road
Don't know where it goes or where it leads

A small sliver of light shone through the drapery into the errie darkness of Buffy's room. The Chosen One sat silently on the bed, reflecting on past times, lines of unease clouding her face.

Her thoughts were a mass disarray of conflicting emotions.

The War had ended, and the aftermath of the fight proved to be more difficult to endure than the battle itself. In the past year, she had seen more bloodshed, more pain and more endless death than even the fiercest warrior saw in a lifetime. Her eyes, which were once vibrant and sparkling had become unfeeling and hardened.

The Chosen One's eyes took on a darker tone as her memories reverberated through her. Her friends and family were gone, washed away in the crimson blood of combat. Emptiness and a tangible void had taken root long before their deaths. Somehow, the Slayer felt no sadness in their deaths. No sadness in anything, and with that, no joy.

It was as if Buffy was watching her own life through a glass window where nothing could truly touch her. Her passions, her soul were now replaced by an alienating feeling of disassociation.

There was a time when she felt fear. Fear over what she was becoming, fear over what she was helpless to stop. But it was a time that was long gone, no more than a distant shadow, forgotten like the crisp fall leaves blowing in the wind.

It doesn't matter what I want
It doesn't matter what I need
If you've made up your mind to go
I won't beg you to stay
You've been in a cage
Throw you to the wind you fly away

Her thoughts were disturbed as the Slayer stood up from the bed, a familiar feeling dimming over her senses. Shaking her head in disbelief, she looked around, trying to confirm that her senses were deceiving her.

"No, it couldn't be," the slayer whispered.

Sounds of footsteps came from the hallway as the slayer turned to the doorway to meet her intruder. Slowly, the silver knob turned and the door opened.

Standing in the doorway was a tall, glowery man. The Chosen One was unable to see his face, for he stood blanketed in the shadows, but she already held the knowledge of her mystery man.

"Angel," she stated, her voice remaining unwavered as she spoke. "Its been a long time."

"A lifetime," Angel whispered as he took a few unsure steps forward, emerging from his place in the darkness. Staring into her eyes, he searched to find what he had journeyed for. When he heard that Buffy still lived and didn't perish in the war, his undead heart, for the first time in years, felt the stirrings of happiness. But now, as he looked into her hardened eyes, his worst fears struck him with a vengeance. He could no longer see the girl he once loved, but a cold unfeeling determined Slayer.

Starting to feel slightly uncomfortable under the vampire's gaze, she turned away. Still reeling from his sudden presence, her face settled in a frown. Confusion stained her features, and then an undeniable anger. Not anger at him, but a new sense of self loathing that she had never truly experienced. Every cell in her body compelled her to grab a stake and end him. To rid the world of the last remaining demon, the last spawn of Satan, but she could feel her paralysed heart urging her otherwise.

It doesn't matter what I want
It doesn't matter what I need
It doesn't matter if I cry
Doesn't matter if I bleed
Feel the sting of tears
Falling on this face you've loved for years

"How are you?" Angel asked, desperate to find some trace of his beloved.

"Never been better," The Chosen One evenly replied, her thoughts still lodged in her minds conflicting dilemma.

If felt as if her heart was screaming. Despite the coldness of her heart, The Slayer knew if anyone could revive her soul, it was the man standing before her. And yet, an undeniable part of her remained constant in its need to kill him.

Lowering her head in an attempt to block out all her senses, her eyes stumbled upon a wooden stake lying on the apartment floor.

Unbeknownst to her, her eyes took on a murderous look. At seeing the familiar weapon, the Slayer's eyes took over.

This not going unnoticed by Angel, his heart fell. Looking at her for what felt like the first time that night, his fears were confirmed. The beautiful, lively, caring heart of the girl he loved had been washed away by destiny. Washed away by The Slayer. Angel felt his throat constrict and eyes well up as he saw her, an echo of the soul to which he once pledged his own.

Reaching for the stake, the Chosen One did the only thing she could. She gave up the final battle for her soul and acted as The Slayer would.

Knowing the vampire would not put up a fight, she saw as Angel regained his composure and coldly stared into her eyes. They both knew what the had to do. They both knew the real reason fate brought them together this one last time.

Taking a step forward, Angel morphed into his vampiric visage and struck the first blow. Quickly recovering from the hit, The Slayer gripped the stake, and with one swift movement, she plunged it into his heart.

Staring down at the stake protruding from his chest, Angel looked up into the face that once belonged to his own Juliet. Never in his worst nightmares did he truly believe it would have come to this. Death by the hand of his one and only.

Seconds later Angel disintegrated into dust, leaving The Chosen One alone in the room once more.

Sitting back on her bed, The Chosen One finally saw the true destiny of her life. When she had first become the Slayer, she accepted that part of her as a burden. Later on, she had accepted her role as both Buffy and the Slayer. During the war, the balance between her soul and her fate was shifted, and now, she understood. In order to truly kill all evil, The Slayer had to kill Buffy herself.

With the last demon destroyed, The Chosen one felt a overpowering need to sleep, to rest. Quietly laying her head down to rest, The Slayer curled into a ball and closed her eyes.

Clothed in darkness, she resided motionlessly, taking her final breath. Her true destiny fulfilled, the girl that once was Buffy Summers lay in peace, never to wake again.

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