Self-Inflicted
She saw the demon stalking towards her. Didn't even flinch. Just stood her ground. Waiting.
It lumbered between the headstones, approaching the girl. It knew her. Slayer. Raising one hammy fist, it struck.
And she stood. As it pelted her face with blows, she stood. When she fell to the ground, she didn't move. Just let it hit her. Over and over.
Until it was jerked back. "Buffy, what the hell are you doing?" Spike demanded. With a twist, the creature's neck was broken, its massive body fallen to the grass. The vampire knelt on the ground beside her. "God, Buffy. Your face. Your sweet face." He tried to help her up, but she pulled away.
Tears washed the forming bruises. Her face was swelling. "Can't see. Good."
"Buffy, what is it? Why would you let it do that to you?" He wanted to touch her, to comfort her, but he was afraid of hurting her. She was a mass of welts.
"My turn," she mumbled. She coughed and a tooth fell into her hand. She laughed.
"What are you talking about, Buffy?" he asked gently.
"Today." She strained for words between swollen lips. "We kissed. Today. And I saw."
His eyes were wide. "I'm sorry, Buffy. I shouldn't..."
"No." She hugged her arms to her chest. "I saw. Everything. All I did to you. Such pain." She fell back against the grass. "Evil thing. Me."
"No, oh God, no, Buffy." He reached down and picked her up, her body lying between his arms. Gently, he carried his love. "I'm well, Buffy. Finally well." He looked down into her battered, unconscious face. "I can't lose you to it, now."