For
musewrite
12/2/13 17:17[pressure is something you feel when you don’t know what the hell you’re doing—peyton manning]
It was probably crazy. It was probably going to get a bunch of people killed and it was probably going to be as effective as the story of the little boy with his finger in the dike. The thing was, it was the only solution Buffy could come up with. The world, or at least San Francisco, was being overrun with zompires; she didn’t have a lot of options: Kennedy and “her” slayers were rubbing elbows and making lots of money through private security; there was “that” faction of slayers out to kill Buffy and then there was her: Buffy had an intimidating force of…Billy and a couple of others she’d recruited. They were good, but they were human. They didn’t have her strength or her power and she had no means to give it to them anymore. They were going to get killed eventually. It was a fact of war, an unavoidable consequence of being in a slayers orbit and she had no choice. Buffy needed help.
She had struggled with the morality of her choice, the hows and the whys, the ifs but not the whens and she’d come to realize one thing:
It was their world too.
It was their world too and if they wanted to help, if they realized the dangers involved who was she to tell them they couldn’t? Despite all of that, despite realizing it was her only choice, that Billy and the other recruits has just as much right as she to defend themselves, she still felt like the pressure was on her. Buffy had no idea what she was doing. She had a destiny; they had a right. In the end, she hoped it all equaled out to saving the world, but she didn’t know if it would. She never had. Saving the world didn’t come with an instruction manual and even if it had, she rewritten the rules years ago.
But, it would be awfully nice if someone would give her a refresher course on those rules.
It was probably crazy. It was probably going to get a bunch of people killed and it was probably going to be as effective as the story of the little boy with his finger in the dike. The thing was, it was the only solution Buffy could come up with. The world, or at least San Francisco, was being overrun with zompires; she didn’t have a lot of options: Kennedy and “her” slayers were rubbing elbows and making lots of money through private security; there was “that” faction of slayers out to kill Buffy and then there was her: Buffy had an intimidating force of…Billy and a couple of others she’d recruited. They were good, but they were human. They didn’t have her strength or her power and she had no means to give it to them anymore. They were going to get killed eventually. It was a fact of war, an unavoidable consequence of being in a slayers orbit and she had no choice. Buffy needed help.
She had struggled with the morality of her choice, the hows and the whys, the ifs but not the whens and she’d come to realize one thing:
It was their world too.
It was their world too and if they wanted to help, if they realized the dangers involved who was she to tell them they couldn’t? Despite all of that, despite realizing it was her only choice, that Billy and the other recruits has just as much right as she to defend themselves, she still felt like the pressure was on her. Buffy had no idea what she was doing. She had a destiny; they had a right. In the end, she hoped it all equaled out to saving the world, but she didn’t know if it would. She never had. Saving the world didn’t come with an instruction manual and even if it had, she rewritten the rules years ago.
But, it would be awfully nice if someone would give her a refresher course on those rules.