They all left. Dawn spared a glance before following after the watcher and his too-still burden, her own grief only too visible in her blank eyes. Harris cared only for getting his demon-girl to the hospital; and the two witches were too busy mourning the Slayer and quietly rejoicing at Tara’s recovery to notice his broken legs. Didn’t matter. Didn’t want to live anyway – the image of Buffy’s broken body burned into his retinas. Animal instinct dragged his broken body under a piece of debris, even as the spirit inhabiting it wanted to remain until the sun ended his misery.
If you are under the age of 17, please use your head and do not read fics that are labeled "NC-17". Parents, I cannot control what your children are reading, so please be advised that the majority of the fics archived here are NOT suitable for those under the age of 17.
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