Author's Note : The inspiration for this struck me last night. I was listening to the City of Angels soundtrack and Angel by Sarah Mclachlan came on. The song reminded me so much of Becoming, I just had to write this. It takes place about six weeks after Becoming, and is told through Buffy's POV. A word of warning, it does not end well.

Disclaimers : I, a mere writer and fan, own nothing. The characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy Production, and the WB. If I've left anybody out who deserves credit, I apologize. The lyrics for Angel belong to Sarah (of whom I am also a fan).

The blades of the ceiling fan above me barely turned fast enough to blow away the stank air of my apartment. Apartment is probably too nice of a word too describe this place. I think rat hole is a better word. But what could you expect for fifty dollars a month. A month. A whole fucking month I've been here and nothing's changed.

My life has become such a routine since I left. I get up every morning, I have a cold shower (the god damned landlord won't fix the hot water), I have breakfast at the cruddy little coffee place down the block and then I go to work. Yes, my thrilling career as a mail girl. I work a nine hour day, come home, I cry for a couple of hours and go to bed so I can do exactly the same thing tomorrow. I haven't had a good night's sleep in nearly two months. If I do get to sleep, it's usually more of a fitty half-sleep.

But right now, sleep is the farthest thing from my mind. I had the nightmare again. The one where I'm back in Sunnydale in the old house. I've been having that same dream almost every night since I came to New York. I'm standing there with him and I have the sword in my hand. He says that he loves me. I tell him to close his eyes, and he does. I kiss him, and then I thrust the sword into his chest. That's when I wake up screaming.

Tonight had been no exception. I practically jumped up in my bed, yelling his name. When I was aware of where I really was, I sank back into the sheets. I was covered in a cold sweat and breathing heavily. Glancing over at the tiny alarm clock, I can see it's only 11:45. I ran my hands through my hair as I felt the tears begin to well up inside me. The memories and the guilt were flooding back into my mind. That's when I broke down crying again.

I got out of my bed and went over to the tiny little dresser in the corner. I pulled out a pair of sweat pants and a tank top. I remembered the shirt. Willow had given it to me. I miss her. I miss all of them. Willow, Giles, Xander, my mother, Oz, and god help me even Cordelia. Sometimes I just want to reach for the phone and call them. To tell them how sorry I am for fucking up their lives. But every time I pick up the phone I just feel to guilty to talk to them. I mean, it's been way to long. I should have at least called my mother when I got here. To tell her I was all right and that she didn't have to worry about me causing anymore trouble. The note I left her had been pretty vague. I didn't say where I was going or how I was getting there. Of course she'd probably murder me herself if she found out that I hitch hiked most of the way up here. I knew everyone would expect me to got to L.A. Probably because I had lived there most of my life and because that's where my dad was. So I went in the opposite direction.

God, I'm such a coward. To afraid to face what I had done. I had sent the man I loved to Hell. Not the demon that had been terrorizing everyone, but the beautiful soul that I had once loved. It would have been easier if the guys hadn't have done the ritual. It must have been them. Who else in that town, or even the world, would have enough resources to cast a spell that had been long lost for hundreds of years. If only he had still been that monster, it would have been easier to deal with his death. Ha, he was already dead. So it was kind of like a re-death. But the look in his eyes when I ran him through was so heart breaking and innocent. I had betrayed him. Oh god, I have to get out of this room.

Later I find myself in the streets of downtown New York. It has really begun to rain. The water is pelting down on me, in my face and on my body. People rush through the streets, eagar to get out of the water. The atmosphere of the city mirrors the way I am on the inside. Cold and dead. The dreary backdrop only increases my misery. Six months ago I would have never imagines myself to be the person I have become. Happiness, joy, pleasure, and passion are foreign to me. As is anger and sadness. I can not feel anything now except for the guilt. I have become an empty shell of what I used to be. I refuse to let myself have any emotion. There is nothing in this life that can fill the hollowness in my soul.

Some Vampire Slayer I turned out to be. If only Giles could see me now. I haven't kept in shape. I am thin and weak from food deprivation and lack of sleep. Although I do have a little strength from what ever it is that causes me to be a Slayer, it is little. Since my arrival in New York City, I have only seen two or three vampires. I let them live. When I first encountered a vampire here, I fought her as hard as I could. I beat that bitch into a bloody pulp. I used her as a punching bag, to work out my frustrations. It didn't work. As I prepared to stake her, I couldn't. I had a flashback of killing him. The vampires all reminded me of the life I had left behind. If a vampire came up behind me now, I would bet good money that they could easily kill me. New York is probably crawling with vampires, but the reason I haven't seen many is that I don't get out much.

As the Slayer, it was, no is, my duty to protect the world from the demons. But I've totally turned my back on my responsibilities. I let Giles down. Kendra would have never slagged on her slaying duties. But Kendra was dead, and it was all my fault. Her entire life had been dedicated to vampire slaying. She didn't have any friends or family. She wasn't allowed to indulge in the simple pleasures of life. And she never will. Meanwhile I had been bitching about the fact that I couldn't have some time off with my friends. When I saw her lifeless body lying on the ground, all I could think was that this was my fault. Kendra's death would probably signal the coming of another Slayer. Hopefully she will do a better job than I did.

I don't know how long I've been walking, but I have traveled far. The street signs to my left say that I'm on 47th and Broadway. The bright lights of Time Square shine in front of me. I stop for a while and watch the extravagant billboards as the light up the evening sky. I remember coming to New York when I was a child. When my mom and dad were still together. Those were such happy times. It's almost laughable for me to think I was once that niave to the real world. God I miss my mother. Even all that New Age crap she used to spout at me about understanding me by getting in touch with her inner rebel. She must have thought so little of me when I starting getting into all the trouble I did. But I suspect that this little stunt will put her over the edge. In my note, I told her that if she has questions about my life as a Vampire Slayer that she should go to the library and look for Giles or Willow and Xander. I hope she will. That note was so final though. I probably shouldn't have been so harsh, but that's the reality of it. The world is harsh, get used to it.

Willow and Xander. They had been my best friends when I moved to Sunnydale. Even when they found out about the Slaying and the Hellmouth, they still wanted to be my friends. They involved themselves in the trials and turmoils, and they didn't have to. Time after time they risked their lives for me, and I ran out on them like a coward. I think they would have been better if they had never met me. They would have had normal teenage lives, their friend Jesse would still be alive, and they wouldn't have had been so close to getting themselves killed every night. And Giles. He's more than just my Watcher. He's a friend and a mentor. I think I let him down most of all. He had confidence in me when no one else did. He stuck up for me with Snyder and my mother. And all I can think about is how much I must have disappointed him. It was because of me that Jenny was killed. If I hadn't have slept with him, he wouldn't have lost his soul and Ms. Calander would still be alive. I was so friggen mad when I found out that Jenny was a Gypsy Spy, and that she knew what would happen when I did what I did. But it was unfair for me to cast her away because of that. She had no choice. And me and my pride couldn't handle that. She died trying to restore his soul. Trying to repent to me. That's what got her killed. That's what caused Giles so much pain.

I am the one who caused everybody pain. Everyone who came into contact with me in Sunnydale was always put into danger. It's for the best that I left. Besides, there's nothing left for me in California. That's where all the pain, all of the suffering, and all of the guilt comes from. But no matter how much I distance myself from that place, I can not get away from the memories. The memories of death, destruction, and betrayal. And for the rest of my sad little life, I will carry the burden of the guilt. Maybe after I killed him, I should have killed myself as well. After all, I have nothing left to live for. My love is gone, my honor is gone, and my self respect is gone. I might as well have lost my soul.

When I turn onto a side street, I hear a muffling cry over the intense sound of the falling rain. It is coming from an alley ahead of me. Quickening my pace, I hurry to see what is happening. I know that it can be nothing good, because it was an alley in New York (although not quite as dangerous a place as an alley in Sunnydale). That's when I see it. A large man has a tight hold on a struggling young woman. As I strain my eyes to see through the rain, I can see that he has a demonic face. It is a vampire, preparing to feed.

The woman looks terrified. When she gets a good look at his face, she begins to scream uncontrollably. I study her for a split second. She is well dressed, young, and very pretty. She looks intelligent. She probably has a bright future ahead of her. Collage or University, a great job, and a family. But that future would be cut short at the hands of a merciless demon. Even though I was really in no condition to fight, it was my duty to help this woman.

"Hey," I called to the vampire just before he bit her, "Let her go."

The demon smiled and growled. "Why should I?"

"Because 'Slayer says'," I replied sarcastically

The vampire dropped the woman. She fell to the ground with a frightened cry. She managed to crawl to the side of the alley and pull herself up with the aid of the wall.

"Go," I simply said to her.

With trembling legs, the girl ran for her freedom, leaving me with the task at hand. In the back of my mind, I knew that I couldn't take him. I was probably a very amusing site for him. Thin and weak, soaked through to the bone.

"A Slayer. You don't look like much of one," mocked the demon in front of me.

"You're right, I'm not," I replied solemnly, "Look, are we gonna fight or are we just going to stand around and chat all night, because I'd like to get this over with."

The vampire growled in response. I didn't know how long or how well I could fight. But maybe this would be my one last chance to get a bit of honor and dignity. He charged me and tackled me as hard as he could. We both tumbled to the pavement, I on the bottom. I hit the ground hard on my back, sending shots of pain up and down my spine. The vamp landed on top, knocking the wind out of me. Then, he slashed me across the face with his claw like nails. Blood began oozing out of five different gashes on my face. When he got up off of my chest, he watched me all sprawled out on the pavement. It was degrading and humiliating. He began to laugh.

"Come on Slayer," he teased, "Get up and fight me."

I couldn't move. I didn't have the strength to get up. He reached down and grabbed me by my throat and hauled my limp body off the ground. I could tell that he was examining my neck as he drew closer and closer. I could feel his mouth just inches from my skin. After saving the world, averting apocalyptic prophecies, and killing countless demons, this was how it was going to end. I would be no more than an quick kill and an easy meal.

"Go ahead. End it now," I said simply.

My voice did not convey any emotion. I was ready to die. The vampire drew back slightly, obviously confused about my acceptance for death. He probably hadn't encountered any washed up Slayer's before. But he was a bloodsucking bastard, and he did what he needed to do. I felt his teeth pierce the tender flesh on my neck as he bit down on me. My entire body stiffened as he bit harder and began to drain me. I didn't scream. I didn't yell. I only closed my eyes. The rain easily disguised the tears as they flowed freely down my face.

I began to feel dizzy and lightheaded. I was tired, and all I wanted to do was sleep. I couldn't feel my arms or my legs, because my body was going numb from pain. When I felt his fangs leave my neck, he released me from his grip. I could not stand and my legs gave way. I plummeted towards the ground and landed in a heap. I could feel the blood gushing out of the two holes in my throat. It smeared across the pavement, mixing with the rain water that continued to pelt me. When I managed to open my eyes, I could see the vampire turning out of the alley.

I was going to die. And I would leave this world the same way I left Sunnydale. Afraid to face the the turth, and cowardly surrendering myself to shut out the pain and the guilt. I would not die with honor. I would not die with respect. And I would not die with a Slayer's dignity. I would die a traitor and a coward. This was my final disgrace. I had let everyone I loved and everyone I cared about down.

The final moments were the most painful. I struggled to bring in shallow, sputtering breaths. But my attempts were futile. I was now lying in a pool of my own blood. I was so cold and tired, I just wanted to close my eyes. The world became slow and spinning, and my surroundings seemed to melt around me. The last thing I felt was the hard pouring rain on my face before I started to close my eyes. I opened my mouth to speak, and between gasping breaths, I managed to say the simple truth that I had been running from all this time.

"Angel. I love you."

Well, that's the end. I know it's a little cynical and depressing, but I was not in a happy mood when I wrote it. Well, if you like it or if you hate it, let me know. My e-mail is anikka@hotmail.com Please do not send any flames or hurtful, nasty letters. Although, I always welcome *constructive* criticism.