Intro: Set in a dystopian future where the Master’s plan with the toclophane succeeded, Martha killed, the Doctor permanently imprisoned and humanity enslaved. What will Slayer Buffy Summers do in a world where she’s lost everything?
Warnings: Dark, if you don't like disparate and slightly insane Buffy stop reading now.
Pairing: Buffy/The Master
Disclaimer: Buffy belongs to Joss Whedon and Doctor Who to the BBC.
She remembered the day it had ended.
The day everything went up in acrid flames of black and red, the stench of human flesh on the air and with drums on the air.
The day she was betrayed and thrown out of her home by the girl she called 'sister'
The day she'd felt her heart cracked, shattered and crushed for the last time and felt it all fall away into nothingness.
That was the day that Saxon had taken root, and had sent those spheres of death to Earth to massacre 1/10th of the population. Boys, girls, women, children, husbands, wives...
They hadn't discriminated merely swirled on in a flurrying swarm of death, destruction and chaos.
The day the world ended.
She’d already lost what few friends she still had that day, having been kicked out of her own home for a mistake which had cost the lives of children. She'd forgotten that in her desperate desire to win against The First and it had led to this.
In a way she’d been lucky, because they had betrayed her she’d not been in Sunnydale when it had gone up like a Molotov cocktail, leaving only a smouldering crater remaining.
She had been left gaping back at the smoking hole in the ground, at had what had once been her home, at the thing that had chained her in place. The smell of death hung in the air and all she could do was choke and allow the tears to fall, totally alone.
Faith was dead, she could feel it.
The potentials, all gathered in one 'protective' place, had likewise been destroyed.
One girl in all the world, she truely was now.
The First had it's wish, not that it would do it any good.
After all there was no way in fuck that the hell mouth could ever be opened again. She wondered if The Master knew that.
Probably did, sneaky sonnofabitch.
She'd stood there in the firelight, allowing ashes to twirl around her, barely able to thinkbreathespeak, as the tears fell.
She cried until she was empty, was numb, could no longer feel the pain and hatred and suffering and anger at the loss of her Scoobies, her Watcher, her sister.
It was all gone...
She’d hit the road on the motorcycle she’d jacked from Sunnydale intending to grab help from Angel and his friends against The First, and with a sense of utter detachment she decided to continue onwards to L.A, wasn’t like anyone else was able to use it any more.
She had no more tears to shed.
No more smiles to fake.
She was an endless chasm...
She was just too exhausted to pretend anymore, to act like she wasn’t hollow inside. She’d been broken inside for such a very long time. It had taken a betrayal of massive proportions to shatter the convincing mask she’d put in place to stop the others complaining, as though she was acting emotionless to get attention.
The loss of those she held dearest enough to rip from her the fragile bonds of sanity she had left.
She’d considered going to look for Angel and his groupies, but the sight of LA burning like an image out of a post-nuclear attack…
Well that plan had gone right out the window.
She couldn’t care any more, she’d tried. But really what was the point?
You opened up and you got betrayed. She watched from afar as humans desperately fought one anothr for the right to survive, for food, for water...
Saxon had revealed his last ace, humanity's own weakenesses.
Man was a selfish creature, and that was that.
But to be honest, most days she didn’t even feel human anymore.
She just felt…empty.