Me And The Devil

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Warren.

She had killed Warren for absolutely nothing.

The realization made Buffy utterly sick to her stomach.

She had killed Warren to stop Alaric and protect Elena, only for Elena to die exactly three minutes later.

Buffy had literally sacrificed a part of her soul and gone against everything she stood for, for no fucking reason!

In the past 48 hours since Elena's death and subsequent unexplainable re-awakening, Elena had been in and out of consciousness, leaving Buffy a lot of time with her own thoughts. Though every now and then, Elena would wake up for half a second and scream.

Which left Buffy having to clean up shattered pieces of glass.

It was safe to say about six hours in, she had thrown out all of their glasses and replaced them with plastic cups. The windows had now all been covered up in wooden boards too.

Clearly, glass was not going to be an option in the Gilbert House for a while.


With Elena once again passed out upstairs, Buffy was trapped alone with her own thoughts and guilt.

The urge to rip Rebekah apart was strong, which Buffy had to attribute more to her demon side being fully triggered. While she would never kill Rebekah because of the sire line, all she could think about was ripping her limb from limb.

She wanted to hear Rebekah's cries and see the light drain out of her eyes.

It was a terrifying thought.

That wasn't who Buffy was, but since she killed Warren that little dark voice in the back of her head had doubled in velocity.

It was officially half of her now, no annoying voice in the back of her head, it was just her voice.

Half of her.

Staring out of the kitchen window, her face completely void of all emotion, Buffy tried to focus on anything other than Warren. He was haunting her every thought like a cruel taunting ghost that had no free time so had chosen to spend eternity making her life a living hell.

Watching as a bluebird flew past the window, Buffy zeroed in on its wings, examining the different shades of blues in its feathers closely.

There were like 15 different shades, ranging from aqua to deep-navy.

Running a hand through her hair, Buffy clutched onto her growing hair.

It was now running past her shoulders again.

Clenching her eyes shut, Buffy couldn't help but growl as a familiar face filled her mind again.

Warren.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that terrified look as he begged her to let him live all over again.

Yes, he had been a horrible person, he had mind-controlled and then killed his ex-girlfriend according to Xander, and almost killed Elena.

He had literally shot Elena in the gut right in front of her.

But...he was still a human being, and now his face would be stuck with her for the rest of her life.

Which, newsflash was now...eternity.

Unless she wanted to drive the white oak stake through her own chest, which she had confiscated off Damon the second she saw it. It was the only thing that could kill her, so she had dibs on hiding it.

Plus, Damon sucked at hiding things!

Being ironic didn't make it a smart hiding place.

AKA: The moonstone.

Opening her eyes she pressed her hands against the counter before looking down at her shirt from the other night. She had gotten all the blood out.

She had scrubbed and scrubbed till every speck of Warren's blood was gone.


"You need to explain to me again." Damon ordered as he and Stefan walked into the kitchen, both of them freezing as they found Buffy staring down at her once blood-soaked outfit.

The brothers glanced at each other warily.

Damon was beyond confused by how Buffy had been acting over the past 48 hours.

She had barely said a word.

Stefan and Buffy had still yet to explain clearly what the hell happened that night.

Damon still had no idea what Buffy did to kill Alaric or what had happened on the bridge when he found Buffy and Stefan passed out, covered in their own blood.

Though, Buffy had another person's blood all over her too, something he still didn't quite understand.


Dropping her jeans into the soapy water, Buffy inhaled sharply before finally turning to face the two men. Her eyes focused on Damon, ignoring Stefan's all-knowing look.

She was not in the mood to deal with Stefan's little, you are not a murderer speech.

She was sick of being held on a pedestal by the people in this damn town.

She killed one person to save her sister and possibly tens of thousands, yet Stefan and Damon had both slaughtered people for fun over the centuries and no one looked at them like monsters in this town.

Their pasts were forgotten by everyone when it was convient.

"She alive. Does anything else matter?" She asked flatly as she moved over to the cupboard and grabbed a bottle of rum.


As Buffy pulled out a plastic cup and started pouring herself breakfast, Damon groaned in annoyance.

He was sick of the lack of information.

It had been nothing but silence and no answers for the past 48 hours!

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