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BtVS: Step Back From The Edge (My Friend) - Riley, Willow - FRT/PG
Title: Step Back From The Edge (My Friend)
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t. Title inspired by the song “Jumper” by Third Eye Blind.
Pairing: Willow, Riley. Implied Willow/Tara, Riley/Buffy.
Word Count: 2535
Overall Rating/Warnings: PG; angst
Setting: Season 5 – “Into The Woods”
Summary: What if Willow were the one who discovered that Riley was paying to be bitten?
Beta(s):![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
angelskuuipo and velvetwhip. All other mistakes are mine.
A/N: This was written for my Which Witch Ficathon assignment and for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
angst_bingo: Wild Card.
There was only one place in Sunnydale that sold the orange juice that Willow liked best whenever she felt a cold coming on and it was, unfortunately, located kitty-corner from the only place in town that sold blood on tap to vampires and demons alike.
Tara had known better than to argue against a locked-and-loaded Resolve Face and had let Willow go after she swore that she would also take a stake as well as Tara’s neon purple Huffy bicycle – to ensure a quicker getaway in case of a demon attack.
Lucky for Willow, she was an excellent cyclist. Ever since she was little, bike rides on Sunday afternoons through the local park were one of the very few things that the Rosenbergs had ever done as a family. Those memorable experiences, complete with an ability to demonstrate each hand signal correctly, was how she managed to arrive in front of Ella's Emporium and Grocery within six minutes of leaving the dormitory instead of the thirteen minutes that it usually took her to walk there.
Ella Reiner, proprietor and only employee since her husband died in '93, did little more than give her a weathered smile and a “hello” when Willow placed the bottle of OJ on the counter and passed over the correct change.
“Have a good night,” Willow chirped as she headed back outside to where she had parked Tara’s bike. And try not to get eaten, she added mentally as she took one last cautionary glance at the old woman.
Once she reached the bike, Willow placed the orange juice and her purse into the finely woven light blue basket that was attached to the handlebars and quickly undid the lock holding it to the metal bike rail. Before she could straddle the seat, however, a menacing snarl distracted her, making her muscles tense as she desperately tried to remember which pocket she had shoved the stake into.
Come on, Willow. Think. You only have two pockets. That’s 50% odds of finding a sharp, pointy weapon should, by all logic, be pretty good. Besides, it’s not like stakes are small so that should make it much easier to…. But wait…you have four because you decided to wear the stupid ruffled cardigan that has pockets today. That means your odds are 25% and 25% is equivalent to…eep!
Before she could get her hand into any one of her many pockets, however, a female vampire stepped into the glowing artificial light that illuminated the store and the street in front of it. She was a brunette, a little shorter than Buffy, and she was dressed in a snug velvet dress. Her cheeks were heavily rouged, her eyes were darkened by charcoal grey eyeliner, and her lips were painted scarlet red. It was the kind of look that Faith, and Willow’s doppelganger, would be proud of. The kind of look that screamed: street walker.
“You looking for a good time?” the vampire asked, the corners of her lips smoothly transitioning into a predatory grin.
“Not really,” Willow replied, sticking her hand into the right-hand pocket of her pants and breathing a sigh of relief as her fingers touched wood.
Jackpot!
She fished it out of her pocket and clutched it tightly, raising it above her head. Five years of being the Slayer’s best friend and ally had made her ready for nights like this. Not only that, but she wagered there was probably a spell that could assist her right now since her crime-fighting people was either wrapped up in a book, in research mode at the Magic Box, or patrolling one of Sunnydale’s many, many cemeteries.
Before Willow could make her first move, however, the vampire exploded into a cloud of dust, almost as if her thoughts had telekinetically exterminated the monster for her. Sure, it sounded like a total whack-a-do idea but this was Sunnydale, after all, and she had seen much stranger things.
“You all right, Willow?”
Willow watched as Riley stepped through the cloud of dust and came towards her wearing jeans and a striped sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. In his left hand was the stake that had saved her.
So much for my telekinesis theory….
“Yeah, I’m good,” Willow replied, feeling an itch in the back of her throat. It was probably from the dust, but it also could be her oncoming cold’s right hand man. Better safe than sorry, she reached into the basket and grabbed the bottle of juice. She untwisted the lid and took a great big gulp. As she lowered the bottle, she saw a Rorschach-esque bloom of crimson forming in the crook of Riley’s elbow. “But you’re not….”
She leaned forward, her fingers reaching out to touch the skin, but Riley was quick to pull his arm away.
“It’s nothing,” Riley said tersely, tugging his sleeve down and wrapping his free hand around the cut to block it from her sight. “Cut myself shaving.”
Willow arched a curious eyebrow. He was just as bad a liar as she was. Not only that, but the way he was now holding his arm and shifting from foot to foot, it was clear that he got just as jittery as she did. “You honestly expect me to believe that? What’s going on? Did you get into a fight with some vamps or something? I mean, I know Buffy thinks you’re all kitteny now that the Initiative juice is out of your system, but I don’t. I think you’re in tip-top shape. Tippest of the top, even. That’s why I thought you’d show up to patrol with us the other night.”
“Thanks. Sorry about missing patrol,” Riley replied gruffly, hunching his shoulders and averting his gaze. An uncomfortable expression that Willow couldn’t quite figure out spread over his face.
Willow frowned, suddenly feeling like she had stuck her foot in her mouth somehow because of how offended he looked. Not that he really had any right to be. He was the one who had been skipping out on the ones who needed him most these days so it wasn’t like they could depend on his strength and skill for patrols and stuff.
But, another thought derailed her angry train. She couldn’t be mad at him today; because today he was here and he had saved her and that was a very good thing so she figured that maybe she could cut him a little slack….
“Was it a Buffy thing? I mean, I know she can come off as a little critical sometimes when it comes to fighting and stuff, but she’s the cream of her crop, and she…she really does it out of love, I think.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Riley said, dropping his shoulders and awkwardly offering her a casual, reassuring smile. “Do you want me to walk you home?”
He released his grip on the still bleeding arm and extended his slightly stained hand.
Willow shook her head, deciding to challenge his attempts to distract her by bringing up the issue that seemed far more pressing than his relationship status with Buffy. “What I want is for you to tell me what’s wrong. I’ve never let a friend bleed out all over the street and I’m not going to start now. So this is the part where you start explaining, Mister.”
Riley dropped his hand back to his side and surrender filtered through his eyes. For an army man, he was sure willing to wave the white flag.
“I…I stumbled upon this vampire brothel a few weeks ago and at first I thought I should just roast the place but I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to do it.”
“I’m not sure I understand, Riley.”
“A vampire brothel. It’s a place where a lowly human can go and get bitten by a nest of vampires if he or she’s got the money to pay for it.”
“I know what a vampire brothel is,” Willow said, frowning. “What I don’t know is why someone like you would go to one. I always thought you were Buffy’s guy. And Buffy’s guy always makes sure his girlfriend knows when there’s a nest of bad vampires in town so that they can be taken down.”
“Why should I tell her?” Riley countered. “I’m not just a moving guy or a spaghetti cooking guy. I’m a human and I’m her boyfriend, but apparently that’s not good enough because she doesn’t let me in. Because she doesn’t let me be…her man. Not the way Angel was.”
“Is that what that is?” Willow asked, gesturing her hand towards his arm. “Is that your way of getting even with her because she doesn’t act like you’re her knight in shining armor?”
“That’s kind of how it started,” Riley admitted. “I met this vamp, Sandy, and she…I let her bite me. I wanted to make Buffy feel the way I felt after she let Dracula bite her. But then, it made me feel…alive somehow and I couldn’t stop coming back for more. Then I found out about this place and I just wanted to…”
“To let some slutty vampire sink her fangs into you?” Willow cut him off. But then she softened; warmth and compassion filled her hazel eyes. “That sounds a lot more like wanting to feel like you’re dying.” A dull ache twisted inside of her gut at the thought of Riley putting himself at such risk. He was a good guy. A nice guy. The type of guy who wasn’t supposed to have a death wish. And yet…here they were.
The man standing before her wasn’t the former soldier who seemed to secretly enjoy her endless excited spazzes about wizard costumes and moon-shaped candles. This wasn’t the Riley who had once saved her from a speeding car. This was the Riley that needed her to save him. The Riley who was a scared man standing on the edge of a cliff who would be ready to dive off if it wasn’t for the metaphorical tether Willow was holding in her hands; and it was her job to hold on tight and not let go.
“Is that what you want, Riley? Do you want to…?”
“No,” Riley said. “I don’t really know what I want anymore and I don’t think I’m going to figure it out knowing that Buffy doesn’t love me the same way I love her.”
Willow took a step forward, closing the gap between them. Before Riley could protest, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug. After a moment, Riley allowed his arms to encircle her waist as she rested her head on his chest, grateful to hear the sounds of a steady heartbeat.
Nothing about the hug screamed romantic or intimate, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that it seemed to relax him, to calm him, and most importantly, bring him back from the cliff’s edge.
After a few minutes, they disentangled themselves and Willow sniffled a little, not from sadness, but from the pesky cold that still refused to let go of her.
“What are you going to do?” Willow asked, aware that this could be the moment where Riley told her that he was going to go home and break up with Buffy. But she was hoping more for the unlikely response that went along the lines of: check into Buffy-sponsored rehab where the cures are kisses and huge scoops of praline-flavored ice cream.
Of course, much to Willow’s displeasure, Riley chose option A. “Graham contacted me yesterday. Army is running a sweep-and-drop in Central America. They want me to go.”
“You think it’s best to go?” Willow asked hesitantly.
“I…I’m not sure I want to but I’m not doing myself any favors by feeling like I’m bleeding whenever I’m around her. And as you said….”
Willow knew exactly what she had told him. That she would never let a friend bleed out on the streets if there was some way she could heal him. As much as it broke her heart knowing that she was about to lose him and the friendship they had built, she couldn’t stop him. If this was going to keep him from hurting, keep him from hurting himself, then it was the right thing to do.
“Just know that if you go, I’m contractually obligated to hate you a little, okay?” Willow pointed out. “Even if the primary reason you’re doing this is because you want to recuperate from an awful addiction thing and there aren’t many treatment centers that specialize in vampire bite dependency.”
Riley chuckled and he noticeably relaxed. Whatever weight had been on his shoulders seemed to have lifted a bit. “I leave at midnight. Or, at least I do if the talk with Buffy doesn’t work out.”
Willow nodded, throwing her arms around him again in another tight hug. She didn’t know what would happen if he went after Buffy, if he explained all of this to her. But she had a feeling that his departure was imminent, which made this next part all the more difficult.
“Goodbye, Riley. Take care of yourself.”
“You too, Willow. You too.”
That was it. Last words he ever spoke to her.
Because as soon as the words were spoken, Riley let go of her and walked away, disappearing down the alleyway that would lead him to his fate. As for Willow, she got back on Tara’s bike and headed back to the dorms. He didn’t need her to follow him to the Magic Box. He needed to do it alone.
It wasn’t until six hours later when Willow heard the angry whoosh of helicopter blades slicing through the still air that she knew he was really gone.
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t. Title inspired by the song “Jumper” by Third Eye Blind.
Pairing: Willow, Riley. Implied Willow/Tara, Riley/Buffy.
Word Count: 2535
Overall Rating/Warnings: PG; angst
Setting: Season 5 – “Into The Woods”
Summary: What if Willow were the one who discovered that Riley was paying to be bitten?
Beta(s):
angelskuuipo and velvetwhip. All other mistakes are mine.A/N: This was written for my Which Witch Ficathon assignment and for
angst_bingo: Wild Card.There was only one place in Sunnydale that sold the orange juice that Willow liked best whenever she felt a cold coming on and it was, unfortunately, located kitty-corner from the only place in town that sold blood on tap to vampires and demons alike.
“You don’t need to leave, sweetie. I think your sniffles are cute,” Tara said, peering over the edge of her book as Willow reached into her closet to pull out a light purple cardigan with ruffles on the collar along with her clutch purse, which held her wallet, a vial of holy water, and a cross.
“How can they be cute?” Willow protested, her tone slightly muffled by congestion. “I sound like a train engine and you’re being all studious and academic and hot in those comfy pink pajamas…. Can I just say that I wanna kiss Buffy for making you get those?”
Tara giggled. “You could, but then I…I’d have to punch her.”
“Hmmm…I suppose it would be kind of hot seeing you take down Buffy and be all jealous and possessive-like.” Willow started, pretending to ponder her suggestion with intense concentration before breaking into a wide smile. “But I think I want you to stay perfectly unmarred.”
“Your loss,” Tara said, a blush creeping into her cheeks. “I-I’m very good at being the jealous girlfriend. Buffy w-wouldn’t know what hit her ‘cause I’d be all grr and stuff.”
Willow smiled, enjoying her girlfriend’s playful banter. Before she could say anything, though, another sneeze caught her off guard. This one had a force strong enough to make her body rock forward slightly.
“That’s it,” Willow huffed. “This is getting defeated by Vitamin C, the Germ Slayer, once and for all.”
Tara had known better than to argue against a locked-and-loaded Resolve Face and had let Willow go after she swore that she would also take a stake as well as Tara’s neon purple Huffy bicycle – to ensure a quicker getaway in case of a demon attack.
Lucky for Willow, she was an excellent cyclist. Ever since she was little, bike rides on Sunday afternoons through the local park were one of the very few things that the Rosenbergs had ever done as a family. Those memorable experiences, complete with an ability to demonstrate each hand signal correctly, was how she managed to arrive in front of Ella's Emporium and Grocery within six minutes of leaving the dormitory instead of the thirteen minutes that it usually took her to walk there.
Ella Reiner, proprietor and only employee since her husband died in '93, did little more than give her a weathered smile and a “hello” when Willow placed the bottle of OJ on the counter and passed over the correct change.
“Have a good night,” Willow chirped as she headed back outside to where she had parked Tara’s bike. And try not to get eaten, she added mentally as she took one last cautionary glance at the old woman.
Once she reached the bike, Willow placed the orange juice and her purse into the finely woven light blue basket that was attached to the handlebars and quickly undid the lock holding it to the metal bike rail. Before she could straddle the seat, however, a menacing snarl distracted her, making her muscles tense as she desperately tried to remember which pocket she had shoved the stake into.
Come on, Willow. Think. You only have two pockets. That’s 50% odds of finding a sharp, pointy weapon should, by all logic, be pretty good. Besides, it’s not like stakes are small so that should make it much easier to…. But wait…you have four because you decided to wear the stupid ruffled cardigan that has pockets today. That means your odds are 25% and 25% is equivalent to…eep!
Before she could get her hand into any one of her many pockets, however, a female vampire stepped into the glowing artificial light that illuminated the store and the street in front of it. She was a brunette, a little shorter than Buffy, and she was dressed in a snug velvet dress. Her cheeks were heavily rouged, her eyes were darkened by charcoal grey eyeliner, and her lips were painted scarlet red. It was the kind of look that Faith, and Willow’s doppelganger, would be proud of. The kind of look that screamed: street walker.
“You looking for a good time?” the vampire asked, the corners of her lips smoothly transitioning into a predatory grin.
“Not really,” Willow replied, sticking her hand into the right-hand pocket of her pants and breathing a sigh of relief as her fingers touched wood.
Jackpot!
She fished it out of her pocket and clutched it tightly, raising it above her head. Five years of being the Slayer’s best friend and ally had made her ready for nights like this. Not only that, but she wagered there was probably a spell that could assist her right now since her crime-fighting people was either wrapped up in a book, in research mode at the Magic Box, or patrolling one of Sunnydale’s many, many cemeteries.
Before Willow could make her first move, however, the vampire exploded into a cloud of dust, almost as if her thoughts had telekinetically exterminated the monster for her. Sure, it sounded like a total whack-a-do idea but this was Sunnydale, after all, and she had seen much stranger things.
“You all right, Willow?”
Willow watched as Riley stepped through the cloud of dust and came towards her wearing jeans and a striped sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. In his left hand was the stake that had saved her.
So much for my telekinesis theory….
“Yeah, I’m good,” Willow replied, feeling an itch in the back of her throat. It was probably from the dust, but it also could be her oncoming cold’s right hand man. Better safe than sorry, she reached into the basket and grabbed the bottle of juice. She untwisted the lid and took a great big gulp. As she lowered the bottle, she saw a Rorschach-esque bloom of crimson forming in the crook of Riley’s elbow. “But you’re not….”
She leaned forward, her fingers reaching out to touch the skin, but Riley was quick to pull his arm away.
“It’s nothing,” Riley said tersely, tugging his sleeve down and wrapping his free hand around the cut to block it from her sight. “Cut myself shaving.”
Willow arched a curious eyebrow. He was just as bad a liar as she was. Not only that, but the way he was now holding his arm and shifting from foot to foot, it was clear that he got just as jittery as she did. “You honestly expect me to believe that? What’s going on? Did you get into a fight with some vamps or something? I mean, I know Buffy thinks you’re all kitteny now that the Initiative juice is out of your system, but I don’t. I think you’re in tip-top shape. Tippest of the top, even. That’s why I thought you’d show up to patrol with us the other night.”
“Thanks. Sorry about missing patrol,” Riley replied gruffly, hunching his shoulders and averting his gaze. An uncomfortable expression that Willow couldn’t quite figure out spread over his face.
Willow frowned, suddenly feeling like she had stuck her foot in her mouth somehow because of how offended he looked. Not that he really had any right to be. He was the one who had been skipping out on the ones who needed him most these days so it wasn’t like they could depend on his strength and skill for patrols and stuff.
But, another thought derailed her angry train. She couldn’t be mad at him today; because today he was here and he had saved her and that was a very good thing so she figured that maybe she could cut him a little slack….
“Was it a Buffy thing? I mean, I know she can come off as a little critical sometimes when it comes to fighting and stuff, but she’s the cream of her crop, and she…she really does it out of love, I think.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Riley said, dropping his shoulders and awkwardly offering her a casual, reassuring smile. “Do you want me to walk you home?”
He released his grip on the still bleeding arm and extended his slightly stained hand.
Willow shook her head, deciding to challenge his attempts to distract her by bringing up the issue that seemed far more pressing than his relationship status with Buffy. “What I want is for you to tell me what’s wrong. I’ve never let a friend bleed out all over the street and I’m not going to start now. So this is the part where you start explaining, Mister.”
Riley dropped his hand back to his side and surrender filtered through his eyes. For an army man, he was sure willing to wave the white flag.
“I…I stumbled upon this vampire brothel a few weeks ago and at first I thought I should just roast the place but I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to do it.”
“I’m not sure I understand, Riley.”
“A vampire brothel. It’s a place where a lowly human can go and get bitten by a nest of vampires if he or she’s got the money to pay for it.”
“I know what a vampire brothel is,” Willow said, frowning. “What I don’t know is why someone like you would go to one. I always thought you were Buffy’s guy. And Buffy’s guy always makes sure his girlfriend knows when there’s a nest of bad vampires in town so that they can be taken down.”
“Why should I tell her?” Riley countered. “I’m not just a moving guy or a spaghetti cooking guy. I’m a human and I’m her boyfriend, but apparently that’s not good enough because she doesn’t let me in. Because she doesn’t let me be…her man. Not the way Angel was.”
“Is that what that is?” Willow asked, gesturing her hand towards his arm. “Is that your way of getting even with her because she doesn’t act like you’re her knight in shining armor?”
“That’s kind of how it started,” Riley admitted. “I met this vamp, Sandy, and she…I let her bite me. I wanted to make Buffy feel the way I felt after she let Dracula bite her. But then, it made me feel…alive somehow and I couldn’t stop coming back for more. Then I found out about this place and I just wanted to…”
“To let some slutty vampire sink her fangs into you?” Willow cut him off. But then she softened; warmth and compassion filled her hazel eyes. “That sounds a lot more like wanting to feel like you’re dying.” A dull ache twisted inside of her gut at the thought of Riley putting himself at such risk. He was a good guy. A nice guy. The type of guy who wasn’t supposed to have a death wish. And yet…here they were.
The man standing before her wasn’t the former soldier who seemed to secretly enjoy her endless excited spazzes about wizard costumes and moon-shaped candles. This wasn’t the Riley who had once saved her from a speeding car. This was the Riley that needed her to save him. The Riley who was a scared man standing on the edge of a cliff who would be ready to dive off if it wasn’t for the metaphorical tether Willow was holding in her hands; and it was her job to hold on tight and not let go.
“Is that what you want, Riley? Do you want to…?”
“No,” Riley said. “I don’t really know what I want anymore and I don’t think I’m going to figure it out knowing that Buffy doesn’t love me the same way I love her.”
Willow took a step forward, closing the gap between them. Before Riley could protest, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug. After a moment, Riley allowed his arms to encircle her waist as she rested her head on his chest, grateful to hear the sounds of a steady heartbeat.
Nothing about the hug screamed romantic or intimate, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that it seemed to relax him, to calm him, and most importantly, bring him back from the cliff’s edge.
After a few minutes, they disentangled themselves and Willow sniffled a little, not from sadness, but from the pesky cold that still refused to let go of her.
“What are you going to do?” Willow asked, aware that this could be the moment where Riley told her that he was going to go home and break up with Buffy. But she was hoping more for the unlikely response that went along the lines of: check into Buffy-sponsored rehab where the cures are kisses and huge scoops of praline-flavored ice cream.
Of course, much to Willow’s displeasure, Riley chose option A. “Graham contacted me yesterday. Army is running a sweep-and-drop in Central America. They want me to go.”
“You think it’s best to go?” Willow asked hesitantly.
“I…I’m not sure I want to but I’m not doing myself any favors by feeling like I’m bleeding whenever I’m around her. And as you said….”
Willow knew exactly what she had told him. That she would never let a friend bleed out on the streets if there was some way she could heal him. As much as it broke her heart knowing that she was about to lose him and the friendship they had built, she couldn’t stop him. If this was going to keep him from hurting, keep him from hurting himself, then it was the right thing to do.
“Just know that if you go, I’m contractually obligated to hate you a little, okay?” Willow pointed out. “Even if the primary reason you’re doing this is because you want to recuperate from an awful addiction thing and there aren’t many treatment centers that specialize in vampire bite dependency.”
Riley chuckled and he noticeably relaxed. Whatever weight had been on his shoulders seemed to have lifted a bit. “I leave at midnight. Or, at least I do if the talk with Buffy doesn’t work out.”
Willow nodded, throwing her arms around him again in another tight hug. She didn’t know what would happen if he went after Buffy, if he explained all of this to her. But she had a feeling that his departure was imminent, which made this next part all the more difficult.
“Goodbye, Riley. Take care of yourself.”
“You too, Willow. You too.”
That was it. Last words he ever spoke to her.
Because as soon as the words were spoken, Riley let go of her and walked away, disappearing down the alleyway that would lead him to his fate. As for Willow, she got back on Tara’s bike and headed back to the dorms. He didn’t need her to follow him to the Magic Box. He needed to do it alone.
It wasn’t until six hours later when Willow heard the angry whoosh of helicopter blades slicing through the still air that she knew he was really gone.