Break the Chain

by SpikesKat

It’s there amid your other trinkets, having taken the place of the Claddagh ring Angel had given you. The one you couldn’t bear to wear when he lost his soul, but couldn’t make yourself part with either because your broken heart couldn’t admit that he was gone. 

The Angel you knew and loved was still in there somewhere, and you’d vowed to yourself you would make him realize it. 

Love conquered all, after all. 

The ring was an albatross around your neck in the wake of your final battle. Guilt made you hang onto it, made you look at it every morning and every night, tearing off the barely-healed scab so that you’d bleed anew. Because your misery could be nothing compared to the hell Angel was living, and seeing it, thinking of him, causes you pain, yes, but it’s something you shared… together. 

And if that’s the only way you could have him, you’d take it. Gladly. 

Because he was your everything. 

Your one true love. 

The skeleton ring stands out among your other girly pieces of jewelry, and you can almost see Spike’s smirking face in the blackened out eyes and mouth because he’s wormed his way into your life and settled in… whether you like it or not. 

Sighing, you pull it out of your jewelry box and slip it on your middle finger. It was loose before, but it fits perfectly now. You block the memory of having taken it to a jeweler to get it sized, just as you block the memory from earlier today in the bathroom. 

He’s gone now. 

Just like Angel, you shoved a sword in his chest.

Only this time you gave it a good twist. Anger, confusion, and no small amount of pain made you especially cruel. Made you spew forth lies so effortlessly that they could be construed as nothing but truth. 

And like everything else, he took it. Believed it was gospel – the word unto Buffy.

Pain washes over you at the familiar weight of the ring on your finger. You close your eyes and embrace it, much like you did before – in another time, with another ring.

Tears fall unnoticed down your cheeks and you drag yourself off to bed.

The last thought before you fall into a troubled sleep is to wonder if Spike would magically appear if you left his ring on your bathroom floor. 

~*~*~*~*~

The ring is still on your finger when you confront Warren and his gang at the bank. It’s still there when you’re in your yard looking for any remaining surveillance devices and Xander shows up, though you’re quick to shove your hand behind your back. You’ve mended fences with your friend, but he’d never understand why you’re wearing something that had belonged to him. 

Then Warren appears and you barely feel the impact of the bullet. It’s nothing compared to the pain of Spike’s absence. 

Truthfully, you welcome the cold now pervading your being. It numbs your pain, and yes, it’s cowardly, but you don’t care. 

Xander’s frantic cries are like a distant hum. 

“Buffy? Oh god... oh god... oh god...” 

Your eyes close and you welcome the nothingness, a wistful smile on your face. 

In the distance, you think you see your mother.

The End

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