Home Again: Alternative Ending
by Pebblin
Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: All hail Joss'nem (UPN, etc.). I own nothing. No profit.
Spoilers: UP through 'After Life' of season six, so watch out.
Feedback: Gimme.

She's standing over there, on the wall that surrounds the edge of the roof. She's just staring down. Who knows what she's seeing, and I don't just mean roofs, trees and streets.

I got sent after her tonight because, for some reason, she's warmed up to me or, at least, tolerates me more than I thought she would. It's like everything we went through… None of it matters anymore. Not now. Not after she came back. Whatever went on where she was makes our 'little fights' no comparison.

Some deep part of me is actually grateful for that, and the guilt for that sucks ass, but I'm glad I feel it. Most of me, however, wishes that she hadn't had to go through whatever it was that made what I did to her, her friends and her mother seem like some barely-there ghost that could be tossed aside as if it were no more dangerous than Cordy's friend Dennis now was.

She has to know I'm here. I didn't try to hide myself from her when I came up here; the gravel beneath my boots kinda made harder to be all that quiet, anyway.

"B?"

She doesn't turn around. I move a little closer.

"B, what're you doin' up there?" I ask quietly.

Still nothing.

Closer.

"The others are worried about you, ya know."

For minute, there, I didn't think she was going to answer me, until:

"So, they sent you, huh? The wolf in sheep's clothing to look after the shepherd?" She laughs a little. And it's cold, colder than any sound I think I've heard her make.

It hits me, high in the chest, that remark. But, it misses the heart, so I'm okay.

"Yeah. Funny, huh? I know I didn't get it."

And, I really don't.

Twenty minutes ago, B flipped out in the Magic Shop, on Giles and the Scoobies, but for some whacked-out reason, she didn't say a word to me. That's why I'm here. Weird, huh?

"They don't, either," she tells me.

I narrow my eyes at her and edge a bit closer, this time moving off to the side a little, hoping to get a look at her face.

"Mind explaining what went on down there?"

*****

I'd been in the back, letting off steam, when it all went down. I'd been getting kicked in the teeth by the rest of the Holier Than Thou Coalition and had had enough. It was just me and the sounds of my fists against the punching bag one minute, and the next, B's throwing a fit.

By the time I get out there, everyone's got this look like they've all just been slapped, Slayer-style.

"She came back here because *she* wanted to and she's trying really hard. She wants to move past everything that’s happened, but you won't let her. You're just dwelling in the past, but it's *over*. Why can't you let it rest?"

Surprise mixed in with the shock.

"But, Buffy-- "

Willow was cut off with one look. "No, Willow. It's over. It's been over. You can't just keep resurrecting it like that if you want there to be peace-- just let it go."

Buffy went from pissed-off to pleading in the blink of an eye.

"Ya know, sometimes around here, things are okay. Fine. Life's going on in the now. But, then something's lost, and someone has to bring it back, the pain and the memory of it all and I'm just so sick of it! Why can't you just leave it where it is-- behind us, where it belongs?" The next part comes out in a whisper. "Dead."

And then she storms out, gone.

We just stood there for a moment. I wanted to laugh, to point fingers at them all-- well, not Dawn; she's never been that bad to me-- and smirk, because she went off on them because of me, *for* me…

But something… There was just something I couldn't put my finger on. Something was wrong and it wasn't that she was defending me, a traitor, against her loyal friends. It was *how*. Some of that just didn't sound right.

"I…" Giles started, clearing his throat and looking down at the ground. "Well."

Yeah, he had nothin'. Just like the rest of 'em. Nothin' to say.

Xander nodded. "I think I speak for us all when I say '*ow*'."

Well, not all of us, X-Man, I muttered in my head as I stared at the door B had just gone out of, slamming it behind her.

"Someone… Someone should go after her," Willow suggested, but she didn't look like she was in any hurry to rush after the first Slayer.

"Yeah," Tara agreed, but she looked about as willing as Red did.

"Um." Everyone turned around to stare at me with varying looks in their eyes. Either they're fucked-off at me for being the reason they got chewed out-- or they're thinking that it'd be a good idea for me to be the one to go, seeing as how they're already in agreement that *someone* should go. Who else but me, the one Buffy had just up stood for?

But, then again, what if I went out there and further corrupted her against them all?! Muah ha ha!

"I could… I mean, I could…" I made a hand gesture.

They squinted at me.

"Okay. I can't say that just didn't gimme the fuzzies or anything and but I'm not gonna do the backstab thing. Kinda…lost my taste for it." Well, not completely, but…

It took a long awkward moment before I got the go-ahead.

"I think that would be best," Giles agreed.

With a nod, I headed back inside for the shirt I'd pulled off before I started working out, and my jacket.

*****

And, now, here I am.

I don't know where any of that came from. I mean, it wasn't the first time that I'd been used as a whipping girl or anything with B there to witness it, but for some reason, it got her really ticked off this time. For as long as I've been back, hardly anything at all had been able do that.

I stuff my hands into my pockets.

"You gonna tell me why you came to my rescue like that, especially when you have the biggest complaint against me?" And especially since you haven't been really pissed off at anything as far as I've seen, in a long-ass time?

"You heard enough. You know why."

She sounds distant, like she doesn't care-- like there's something else she'd rather being doing right now, but can't. She's been sounding like that a lot, more and more.

"Actually, B…" I saunter a bit closer. "If I knew that, I wouldn't be asking."

"Actually, *F*, I think you like asking questions you already know the answers to, just to hear the other person answer you in a way you can use against them later."

I'm still moving as she speaks and now that I'm close enough, I see that she isn't looking out across the world but down at the concrete below us. Six stories down; enough to kill her if she jumped-- or, if I pushed her, which she doesn't seem too worried about even though I'm only a few steps away.

"True enough," I admit. "It's kinda fun, actually."

B nods slowly, just once. "Yeah," she whispers. "Fun."

She says that like she knows what it is, but has never had it. Like a born prisoner that wants freedom, a poor person that wants money, or…Or swimming all your life and wanting to walk on land, like that chick Ariel.

Yeah. I saw that movie. Big fucking deal.

"So, what're you doin' way up here?"

"I like the view."

I don't like the chill that sends down my spine and I don't now what possesses me to say, "You could get a better look if you were down there, ya know. Actually *on* the concre-- "

When her eyes snatch towards mine and this look comes over her face, like she's just been caught, I stop cold, frowning. What the hell is up with that fucking look?

I keep seeing it or others like it. I don't understand it. What the hell is going on? I keep wondering that and I never get an answer.

"I don't get you."

She blinks and that look fades a little, but it doesn't disappear.

"You have everything. *Everything*. But, you walk around every day like it's some fucking struggle, like you're not even glad to be back with your friends and family-- back to *life*. You have *every* base covered. Do you even realize how fucking lucky you are?! I barely know anyone who'd actually mourn me after I was gone, let alone raise me from the fucking dead-- from *Hell*-- and you don't seem the least bit happy about it."

And, then, everything sort of just…falls. On her face, I mean. A whole new expression has been born. It's… It's sadness and tiredness. It's not 'Yeah. You're right, okay? You're right.'

It was a 'you just don't know' look.

And when I said Hell, she winced. Not in the 'don't ever mention that place, because I don't want to ever go back, let alone think about it', but in the 'that's not it at all' type way.

And then, it hits me.

Hard.

It connects with the heart this time, and I'm… I'm blown away. If that'd been a punch of a kick, I'd have probably been lifted off my feet into the air with the force of impact. But, instead, I'm just standing here trying to catch my breath.

She's been lying.

This whole fucking time. That's what it is-- she was lying. She's never been really good at that. Well, there was that time with her and me and Angel at his mansion when they pulled one over on me, but there are exceptions.

But, still… Something usually gives it away, something… Her 'I just can't hardly give a fuck' attitude was what it was this time, only we just had no idea where it had come from and that's why she had the upper hand, why no one knew.

They were all *sure* she'd wound up 'down there' after diving into that portal, that her soul had been sucked inside, the PTB or whoever else no longer having any claim on it after her sacrifice.

They never thought for a second that she'd be sent 'up there'. Or, at least, Willow, who wanted to cast the spell to bring B back, never did. Giles, though… I know that even though he's fucking glad B's back, he knows that what Willow did was wrong, that the magic Red used was too powerful and that she was totally lucky that it didn't backfire. He isn't totally sure that it *didn't*, though. He has his doubts. Until now, I didn't know that they included *this*.

I'm standing right next to her without remembering how I got there, but I'm still looking up into her eyes, which seems like a constant that's been goin' on for more than just a couple of minutes.

Then, she can't look at me anymore. She knows she's caught. She stares down at the ground again. Probably seeing what she saw from up on that tower that Glory had her ugly mo-fo followers build-- which had collapsed the night B came back.

The arguments she made for me earlier flood back…

'...You're just dwelling in the past, but it's *over*. Why can't you let it rest?'

'It's over. It's been over. You can't just keep resurrecting it like that if you want there to be peace-- just let it go.'

'But, then something's lost, and someone has to bring it back, the pain and the memory of it all and I'm just so sick of it! Why can't you just leave it where it is-- behind us, where it belongs?'

Whispered: 'Dead.'

"You weren't really talking about me. You were talking about *you*."

Oh, God. Please, B. Buffy. Tell me I'm wrong! I really need you to do that for me now.

"You made it, didn't you?" I ask so softly, I barely hear myself.

She starts to go stiff.

"You found it."

Tears begin to well up in her eyes.

"You… You were done. Finished." I stumble over the next words, like I'm choking on them. "At peace. And… And they stole that from you. Your friends did."

Even though they did it in your best interests, only trying to look out for you, you resent them. Back at the shop, you just couldn't hold it in any longer-- not *all* of it. And here I am, rubbing it in, aren't I?

I want to tell her I'm sorry, but it could never be enough. If I couldn't apologize before for what I'd put them all through-- because she told me she'd kill me if I did, which I don't think she'd even care to do, anymore-- then there sure as hell isn't a way I could do it now. And, plus, I'm not the one that did this to her. As far as her being brought back was concerned, I'm… I'm kinda like… Innocent. It's weird, feeling that. Almost like a first time or something.

But I get over that quick-like-- this is about her, not me.

I need to… I guess I need to comfort her. I mean, I can't just leave her standing there wishing she were dead again without doin' something. But, like I said, words aren't enough. Actions speak louder. That's one of my mottos, right?

I move even closer. She doesn't move an inch.

I lift my hand, not sure what to do with it, but knowing I gotta make the effort. I think about taking her hand in mine, which is about eye level with me since she's standing on that short wall, but I don't know how to go about that, which way to hold it and that bothers me so much that I just press my hand to her back.

I feel her flinch through the thin material of her shirt that's just as soft as I thought it'd be, but nothing compared to the skin underneath.

I lean my head against her hand, instead. No need for holding, just contact. Her skin *is* much softer than the silk of her shirt.

I feel her trembling.

I run little circles around her back with my fingers. We can stand here all night if she wants to. I hope she knows that.

I wonder if she'll ask me to. To do what I said I would once, when it was heated between us, the fighting, and I would threaten and tease, telling her that there was only one way we could end and I wasn't the one that was gonna be going to the other side?

I wouldn't, though. Even knowing what she could get again… I wouldn't. I can't. I'm selfish. We know this.

And knowing my luck, I'd probably damn us both. Or. Damn myself a little bit more, anyway.

A car passes below. There's a couple walking, holding hands. I can almost hear what they're saying, almost, but I lose interest real fast when B starts to talk.

Her voice is so quiet, so small.

She tells me what it was like there, what she lost. Though it's not all golden waterfalls, fluffy clouds and sitting in the grass alongside the deity of your choice, it sounded beyond awesome, beyond amazing. More than I could ever hope for-- more than I would ever get.

I think this place, Earth… This is the closest I'll ever know to Heaven, as fucked-up as it's been to me and I've been to it.

To her, though… To her…*this* is Hell.

"…Everything here is so…hard and bright…and violent…"

I look up at her and she's looking back. Those tears are still there, hanging. She's trying to be strong, but… She can't. Not completely, anyway. It's not like she's gonna break down or anything, but I can see more in her eyes than I have in a long time.

She starts talking about trying to make it through one moment into the next and then *I* can't.

I pull her down off the ledge, and she lets me.

I wrap her up against me with my arms, being as gentle as I can. She lets me.

She's shocked, taken off guard. Her arms aren't holding me back, but probably sticking out behind me.

Words aren't enough, and I'm not enough either, I know, but I hafta try. I just can't let it go with a 'Damn. Must suck.'

"It's not gone," I tell her. "It's just…pushed back a little. You'll get there again, just, you'll have a few more memories with you when you go, but it's not lost, B. You've earned it and it's waiting for you."

I'm not sure that she believes me, but then I feel her actually holding me back, her head resting against my shoulder.

"Before I jumped," she says, "I thought of you. One thing I did wish for was to see you one last time. To make this right… To say goodbye. Maybe I have unfinished business and that's really the reason why I'm here."

"No." I pull her away and shake my head. "I'm not worth that, not for you to be back here again."

"You're a Slayer, Faith. From you the next will come. That's a very important thing--*you're* very important." She looks into my eyes, back and forth, and I want to squirm. "Try to remember that, okay? Promise me?"

I don't know that I can do that. But, maybe…

"I can make you a deal, B."

She looks interested. She hasn't looked truly interested in anything for as long as I've been back here.

"I'll try to remember that…and you try to remember that one day, it'll be back. It's not lost and it's not going anywhere. It's just…" I shrug my shoulders a little, "…waiting."

Again, with the looking into the eyes thing. But, she's coming to a realization. She knows I'm right. I know I'm right, however *that* worked out.

"I know what it's like to be denied something you want, something you *need*," I confess, my eyes falling because I can't keep looking at her while I say this. "I don't know if it's better to have loved and lost than never to have gotten the booty, but--"

She laughs.

No, she bursts into laughter. And, it is so beautiful.

"That's not how it goes," she informs me.

"Well. It sounded kinda right at the time."

I was trying to make an, uh… Whatsit? Analogy? Yeah, *that*, to tell her that I don't know if it's worse to have had a thing and lost it, than to have just wanted that thing, not knowing what it was like to have it, but I know it has to hurt like hell and I can kinda identify, so she isn't alone. If her eyes are telling me what I think they are, then, she got what I meant.

She hugs me. "Thank you, Faith." She means it. She really, really means it. That's my year she just made.

I hug her back, of course. Feelin' kinda awkward, though. Even at a time like this, my hands want to stray, like just being on her back isn't good enough-- one, or both, want shots at her ass. "Was nothin'."

"No." I can feel her shaking her head against me and it's almost like a cuddle. I like it. "It was something. A lotta something."

I don't argue. What would be the point? I don't want to, anyway.

And then we're just standing there, holding each other. I never thought I--we would do this, though I've always wanted to. Just being here, existing, making contact without jumping bones… It's more intimate than anything else I can remember.

"You know," she says to me a little while later, "You're not hard." She looks up again at me and I'm sure she can see the confusion. She strokes my face, brushing finger of her hand against my cheek. It makes me shiver, but I let her. "You're not bright." I wonder if she's really talking about my choice of color when it comes to my wardrobe as her eyes roam down my body or if she's trying to slide in the fact that I'm stupid-- which wouldn't be entirely untrue at times. "And, right now… Right now, you're not so violent either," she finishes, taking one of my hands from around her and lifting it to where she can look at it, examine it.

I feel like she can see the bloodstains that I've tried so hard to get rid of, but will never leave, never mind the calluses and chipped nails.

She must have missed them, those stains, 'cause she runs her thumb across my palm a couple of times before holding my hand to her chest. I don't think I've ever been this grateful before.

I shrug, trying to play off what this is doing to me, making me feel, knowing what she meant behind what she said, and I can barely find my voice to speak. "I moisturize, I've always liked the dark, and what can I say? I have my moments."

She may never know what this means to me. Whatever expression I had on my face is frozen there. This is almost too intense.

She grins. It's not huge, but it's there-- it's enough. And it's aimed at me. At *me*. And now, I'm grinning back like an idiot, I'm sure. If she were anyone else, I'd be feeling like an ass right about now, being this open and not caring that I am.

We could stay like *this* forever if she wants. I hope she knows that.

But I still offer to, "Walk you home?"

"Okay… But, can we wait awhile?" She glances out on the light and life she'd ignored earlier, but she's looking at me when she adds, "I really do like the view from here."

Something tells me that this time, she isn't talking about that concrete.

The End