Cappie checked the address on his device once more, to make sure he was outside the right door, before knocking. The last 48 hours had gone by like a whirlwind, ripping up life in Atlantis as they had known it and leaving them all to pick up the pieces. With so many of the houses gone, razed to the ground, the Family block had the look and feel of a refugee camp rather than the comfortable suburb it used to be. Even now, more than a day after the last fires had been put out and the wounded moved to Mako, there were signs of the destruction everywhere, from bags of salvaged possessions cluttering porches and doorways to the smell of brick dust and ash hanging in the air.
After he’d said goodbye to Rebecca the day before, when she’d left for Mako, Cappie had tried his best to carry on and help with the clear-up effort. His tired body had given up on him, however, after being on its feet for more than 24 hours and he’d eventually collapsed into bed some time in the late afternoon. He’d desperately needed the rest and, as a result, slept right through the evening, night and following morning, only waking when his stomach started rumbling from having missed dinner and breakfast.
Not that he’d been able to eat much. The knowledge that Octavia was gone was never far from his mind and, all day, he’d found it difficult to eat past the tight lump it caused in his throat. Instead, he’d done a lot of sitting and thinking and it was that process which had prompted him to text Buffy to find out where she was staying. He knew that he and Octavia had wasted so much precious time by avoiding each other when their relationship had got tough and Cappie was damned if he was going to let the same thing happen with Buffy.
So far, she had gotten out of the attacks unscathed - she thought “so far” as she assumed that there was no way they were over yet. Where she lived had been completely destroyed, along with every other bit of Head housing. It was shocking to see the damage that had been done come the morning light, looking more like a warzone than anything else - and she supposed that it was one, wasn’t it? Buffy had barely escaped by the skin of her teeth when everything came crashing down, not able to grab anything before realizing what was happening and high-tailing it out.
Everything had been such a blur, from the attacks to seeing the aftermath to moving to Family housing. Then came the news - someone that she knew had been killed in the attacks. Faith, her fellow Slayer. Someone else that had known her beyond what she knew of herself. She had been there when she first woke up with new memories, did her best to calm her down. Though she didn’t know her, there was an inescapable bond between them, both being Slayers. She wished that she had gotten to know her better, asked more questions. Not been so wrapped up in herself and her memories, her feelings for Cappie. It had her shaken, how quickly someone could be gone and all the regrets you could have about them. There was also the fact that she had been a Slayer, seemingly for longer than Buffy had at this point - and still she succumbed. And Buffy had already died once to boot.
She was overwhelmed and frankly, scared of what might happen next. When she got the text from Cappie, she immediately felt a sense of guilt that she hadn’t thought to contact him to make sure that he was okay. She had been so wrapped up in everything else going on and her own fears that she just assumed he was all right, that somehow she would’ve known if he wasn’t. The guilt was soon replaced by relief that he was okay and that he wanted to see her. It wasn’t until then that she realized just how badly she wanted to see him, too.
She waited in the living area, sitting on the couch and tapping her foot incessantly against the floor. Things seemed to be coming to a head with COS and if things kept going at this rate, who knew what would end up happening? Buffy wanted nothing more than to spend time with the people that she cared about now and Cappie was at the top of that list. It didn’t matter to her what they did, if they just sat in silence - as long as they were together. When the knock came at the door, she looked up and quickly stood, rushing over to the door and unceremoniously swinging it open. She swallowed hard at the sight of him, forcing a small smile before wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him, burying her face against his chest. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she murmured into his shirt.
Cappie enveloped Buffy in his arms and pressed his face into the top of her hair. Relieved wasn’t even the word for how he felt at that moment. He closed his eyes and just breathed in the scent of her, holding her tightly. He didn’t need to tell her that he felt the same about her; it was obvious.
Eventually, he loosened his grip and peered down, trying to see Buffy’s face.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Why don’t we go inside?”
When they were in each other’s arms, the last thing she wanted to do was let go of him but they couldn’t stay that way forever, as much as she would’ve liked that to be the case. Buffy let out a soft sigh before taking a deep breath and pulling back, looking up at him and giving a nod. She bit her lip, hands not moving for a few seconds. Everything was seemingly crashing down around them and part of her was afraid that if she let go, she wouldn’t get the chance to hug him again, silly as that sounded at the moment.
She let her hands drop, however and stepped aside, opening the door further for him to come inside. She soon joined him, taking his hand and interlacing their fingers, giving it a squeeze before guiding him to the new location of her bedroom. It didn’t have much in the way of things as she’d just moved in and now didn’t have anything to really make it her own with save for some outfits hanging in the closet that she’d managed to retrieve.
Letting go of his hand, she sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to her. Looking down at her lap, she began, “Everything’s been so crazy. I should’ve texted you.” Pausing, she looked up at him slightly, swallowing once again. “I guess I just...knew you were okay. That sounds stupid,” she said, shaking her head at herself and tucking her hair behind her ear. Any other given time, she would’ve kept such a thought to herself but what was the point now? Everything could end tomorrow, for all she knew. It had for Faith. It felt like an apocalypse - but one that she couldn’t prevent, not on her own. No ancient prophecy, no rules to follow to make sure that it didn’t happen. She felt completely helpless.
Cappie sank down beside her as she began to talk but soon found himself shaking his head.
“It’s not stupid,” he told her. He didn’t know whether he believed in a sixth sense, not in regular humans like him anyway, but he did know that he’d got the eeriest sense of foreboding just before Becker had told him about Octavia. He’d known that there was something terribly, terribly wrong, even before he’d said the words. He would never forget the cold shiver that had passed down his spine from top to bottom.
Sixth sense or not, if he’d been badly injured, he was willing to bet the news would have made its way back to Buffy as quickly as the news about Octavia had spread. In situations like the one they were in, no news had to be good news. No one would be able to function otherwise, for worry. She didn’t have anything to feel bad about.
Cappie hesitantly reached out and laid his hand over hers again, missing the warmth of her fingers between his.
“I was thinking today about…” He paused, frowning. “About how nothing is guaranteed.” He swallowed and lowered his chin, trying to meet her downcast gaze. “I take so much for granted. I always have. It’s one of my many bad habits. And sometimes I don’t realise what I have until it’s gone…” He took a deep breath, trying not to dwell on the examples his brain was trying to bring to mind. “I don’t want that to happen with you. I don’t want to have to wait until I’ve lost you to admit that I have feelings for you. I’m done trying to be noble; it’s all just bullshit anyway. What does any of it matter if it just means we end up wasting precious time?”
She was glad when his hand met hers again, worries that were threatening to rile up inside of her immediately quelled. She realized that she wanted to be touching him, always. That it physically hurt to not feel his skin against hers. These were all things she’d thought and felt before, of course; things she had told him while unable to lie and things that she once again tried to push back down to the depths when they decided they couldn’t be anything more than friends. Now, Buffy found herself unable to care about the repercussions of feeling such things. At least if she was feeling, she was alive - and nothing made her feel more alive than when she was with Cappie.
Her gaze lifted as he spoke, her eyes growing a little wider as she took in what he said. Apparently he had been feeling the same way she was, he was just braver in saying it. Tilting her head to the side, she looked into his eyes, her free hand moving to rest against his cheek. There was no reason to hold back anything anymore and he was right - nothing was guaranteed. Hell, she’d died at sixteen. Faith was gone. It was entirely possible that she could die again or, worse in her mind, that he could.
Playtime was over now, this was it. She felt that same feeling of dread and anticipation that she did when it was time to face the Master. There were things she wished she had done before that - thanked her friends for everything they did for her, had one more special moment with her mother, told Giles that he was the best watcher she’d ever had, a million different things. If she went out this time, the likelihood of being brought back again was incredibly small. It would be for good and she didn’t want to leave behind any unfinished business.
Leaning forward, she pressed her forehead to his, thumb brushing lightly against his cheek, eyes searching his. “So...what are you saying?”
Cappie did the thing he’d been wanting to do for months: he lifted his rough and unshaven chin and pressed his lips to Buffy’s. He didn’t know what he was saying. He didn’t know how to put everything he was feeling into words. He couldn’t make her promises he wasn’t sure he could keep but he could show her how glad he was that she was there with him in that moment. His hand rose to her cheek, mirroring her smaller one on his face, and he wove his fingers into her blonde hair as he kissed her.
Her eyes truly went wide as his lips met hers, the feeling of his stubble rubbing against her skin. The surprise was short-lived, however and she found herself adjusting against the bed, returning the kiss as her legs slid under her and she squeezed his hand. It was everything that she had wanted for so long, her heart pounding in her chest, feeling as if it were about to burst through her ribcage. Eyes falling shut, she deepened the kiss, her hand moving from his cheek to the back of his neck. Everything else in the world had fallen away and it was just the two of them - something she’d felt more than once when she was with him. She didn’t need words, didn’t even want them at this point. Actions spoke louder. They’d said more than enough when they couldn’t lie. There were no thoughts of who might be waiting for either of them back home, only of him and the two of them and now. Now was all they had, after all and she was going to make it count.
Cappie felt a little shudder of desire pass through him as she hooked her hand around the back of his neck and he let go of her hand so he could find her waist and pull her closer to him. His fingertips found exposed skin, where her top had ridden up slightly, and he let his hand slip beneath the fabric.
Normally he was quick to give into his passion but, with Buffy, he felt the need to be cautious. He couldn’t escape the fact that she was young (maybe too young, a voice in his head warned). If they were going to do this - be something more than friends - he knew he needed to be careful with her feelings and that meant tempering some of his baser urges.
With enormous effort, he forced himself to pull back a little and take a deep breath, although his fingers carried on caressing the skin at her waist. With a gulp, he opened his eyes to see out her gaze.
“Talk to me,” he murmured, shocking himself with the nervousness in his voice. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
She didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to pull away from him. If anything, she wanted to be closer, as close as they could get. Even when things weren’t going to hell, there was a safety with Cappie that she’d always appreciated. She never had to be anything but herself. Now, she felt it more than ever with his hand on her waist, his lips against hers. It was like there was a little protective bubble around the two of them just for the moment.
When he pulled away, she let out a soft moan of displeasure, opening her eyes and looking into his once again. Her fingers stroked affectionately against the back of his neck, her other hand reaching out to rest against his thigh. She bit her lip, leaning in to gently nuzzle her face against his before pulling back again. There was no reason to pretend anymore, to force herself to behave and push what she was feeling down, try to twist it into something it wasn’t. She smiled a little as the thought entered her mind of when she’d tried to convince herself that he was like a big brother to her. It almost worked but apparently she just wasn’t that persuasive.
“I’m scared,” Buffy finally spoke, her voice soft. “But..determined, too.” She paused, swallowing hard, eyes darting down at her lap. “I lost Angel. And he may come back but that doesn’t make the loss that I felt any less real.” Returning her gaze to his, she shook her head slightly as she spoke. “I’m not going to lose you, too. And I’m so scared that I will, Cappie.” She could feel her eyes start to fill with tears at the thought, a feeling like a punch to the gut hitting her stomach. When she would’ve looked away, embarrassed or trying to hide just how much it affected her, she didn’t this time. Instead, she continued to look into his eyes as her own brimmed with tears. “We don’t know what’s going to happen here. We’ve never known and it’s so...so stupid that it’s taken these outside things to get us here when nothing was ever really certain in the first place.”
Buffy moved her hand from his thigh and the back of his neck to his cheeks, a longing but resolved look in her eyes. “I don’t want to waste anymore time. We have right now, that’s what’s guaranteed to us. This moment. And I just want to spend it with you. And as many moments as we get after that.” She leaned in, a couple of stray tears falling down her cheeks as she brushed her lips against his, slowly and sweetly, her eyes closing as she tried to hold the feeling of kissing him in her mind. Not pulling away, she murmured against his lips, “If this is it, if this is our last hurrah then there is no one else I’d rather be with than you.”
Finally pulling back a bit, her head resting against his, she continued, “And if we make it out, there’s still no one else I’d rather be with.” Opening her eyes and meeting his, she felt her breath catch in her throat. Did she really want to go so far as to say it? The last time hadn’t worked out so well for her and though she wouldn’t readily admit it, the scars were still there, raised and prominent. She knew how she felt but once more she thought just how tired of words she actually was. All she really needed was to be with him right now. More words could come later, if later even happened for them. Besides, she didn’t need him to think that she was saying it or feeling something that wasn’t true because she was scared. She shook her head again, trying to rid her mind of any thoughts that weren’t just them and right now. Moving her hands from his cheeks to slide her arms around his neck, she hugged him and closed her eyes again, once more trying to file away the feeling of him in her arms in her memory bank. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she tilted her head to the side to rest against his again, biting her lip. “What about you? You can talk to me, too, you know.”
Cappie hated seeing Buffy cry. It made him feel helpless. It made him feel like he should be doing something to cheer her up but the only things he could think of in the moment were completely inappropriate. Witticisms and sarcasm wouldn’t work this time.
Instead, he engulfed her in a hug when she wrapped her arms around his neck, frowning as he stared blindly into the dark corner of the room behind her. So much about this situation was messed up. Buffy felt so good in his arms but, even as he heard her say the words, ‘no one else I’d rather be with’, he knew he didn’t feel the same way about her. He cared about her, deeply, and maybe, if he stayed, if he lived, they could build something incredible. But there was someone he’d rather be with. Casey.
With Intake destroyed, there was a very real chance that he would never see Casey again and that knowledge was almost as devastating to him as the news of Octavia’s death had been. He realised, with shock, that he had always intended to go home one day. He always intended to drive off into the sunset with Casey. He knew, without having to think too hard about it, that that was why he’d never been able to commit to any of the women he’d dated in Atlantis. It was a startling revelation and he could feel his heart rate picking up as he thought about it, a vein beginning to pulse painfully at his temple. It was exactly as he’d said: he hadn’t realised what he’d had until it was gone.
Feeling sick, he heard himself murmur, “I’m so sorry, Buffy… I can’t do this.” A look of pure guilt on his face, he lifted his head to look at her. “I can’t be with you. I thought I could but I can’t.”
Letting go of her, he scrambled to his feet, planting his hands awkwardly on his hips as he turned to face her.
“You are… perfect. You’re good and kind and strong and I want to be able to say those things to you too - everything you just said to me - but I can’t. I’m so sorry.”
He lifted his hands to run over his disheveled face. He felt awful, mentally and physically. Why, oh, why was there no strip club in Atlantis?!?
She wanted to stay like this forever, holding each other and never letting go. Maybe if they did, everything would work out somehow. That was how she always felt when she was with Cappie, even in her lowest moments - that somehow, everything would be okay. There wouldn’t be anymore attacks, people wouldn’t get hurt and worse. They really could stay that way forever.
Forever was a long time, though. Too long, some might say. And while she wasn’t one of those people, it still always seemed to escape her somehow. Fingertips brushing at it but still just out of reach. When he began to apologize, she felt her heart sink. Every positive, remotely happy feeling drained from her. She sat on the bed, staring at the spot where he’d been sitting once he stood up, a numbness taking over her. She didn’t know what to say, only felt more tears running in rapid succession down her face now.
He could say that she was perfect all he wanted, tell her none of it was her fault but that didn’t stop her from thinking that it was. Not even the threat of an apocalypse could make someone want to be with her, could give her any shot at some kind of happiness, no matter how short-lived. She felt a twinge of guilt - people were seriously hurt and dead and all she could do was wallow in her own stupid misery. Doing that was what had kept her from getting closer to Faith, something she would never be able to do now. It was unable to be helped, though. Immediately, she flashed back to seeing Angel - well, Angelus - after they had slept together and the way he treated her, how it had broken her. All she could feel was that same pain, that same feeling of, was it me?
At the end of the day, she wasn’t meant to have anything normal, no matter how hard she tried. She wasn’t normal, her life wasn’t normal - none of this was normal. It felt just as impossible to find something resembling it here as it did in Sunnydale. Buffy didn’t look at him, couldn’t look at him for fear that it would only hurt more. Swallowing hard, she quickly wiped the tears away with the back of her hand, lowering her head to look down at the bedspread. “Well, I - I’m glad you’re okay, at least. And that I got to see you.” There were so many other things she wanted to say and do but she just didn’t have the will. What was once something that had been a good thing - all they had was now, nothing really mattered much anymore - had become something more dark, more negative. She had gone through a rollercoaster of emotions and instead of the ride ending smoothly, it had been derailed. Suddenly she wasn’t so afraid of dying, afraid of what would happen next. There was nothing left to lose. “And you don’t...have to apologize.” She could feel more tears on her cheeks but didn’t bother to try and wipe them away. “You tried,” she said softly, voice cracking.
Cappie could see the pain in her eyes, on her face. The way she couldn’t meet his eyes, the silent tears rolling down her cheeks, made his stomach churn horribly. He wished he could make it all better for her. He wished that with all his heart. He just couldn’t.
“Buffy, please understand, it is not you. Believe me, I know how cliché this sounds but it’s true: it’s me. I swear, there is something actually wrong with me.” How many times had his therapist told him that he needed to find better ways of dealing with his emotions than by trying to bury his head in the sand? Avoidant Coping, was the official term for what he did. How often had he written about it in Psychology papers? Yet still he did it. He avoided the issue that was bothering him and, in doing so, just created more problems, hurt more people. Rather than dealing with the pain he felt over Octavia’s death, the loneliness he’d felt since Rebecca had gone to Mako and the hopelessness at the idea that he might never see Casey again, he’d tried to avoid the issue by focusing on something else, something positive, something enjoyable. But maybe some things were too big to just be ignored.
She let the words hit her ears, taking them in and processing them. Buffy didn’t think there was anything wrong with him, he just couldn’t be with her, couldn’t return what she felt for him. That didn’t mean there was anything wrong with him, he couldn’t help how he felt - or didn’t, in this case. He believed it to be true, though and so she went along with it. Finally, she turned to look at him and stood as well, tensing her legs to keep them from going out from under her. They felt like jelly, wobbly and unsturdy but there she stood nonetheless. “What if I said that I don’t care?”
Taking a deep breath through her nose and sniffling in the process, she said, “I - I get that you can’t. I would never force you - I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to but...if there’s something wrong with you, I don’t care. I just - I want you around right now.” She paused, looking down at the ground, hands resting helplessly at her sides. This was why she was so tired of words - she felt like she couldn’t put what she was feeling into them, not without coming off like a sad, desperate little girl. Despite everything that had just happened, there was still nothing she wanted to do more than spend time with him. It would hurt but it would be downright devastating to have him leave now, with things the way they were between them only to have something happen. She would truly never forgive herself.
“People have died,” she said quietly, eyes boring a hole in the floor. “And nothing is guaranteed, right? It could be us tomorrow. So for tonight…” Swallowing down a lump in her throat, she made herself look up at him, look into his eyes once more. “Can you just stay?” Shaking her head slightly, she continued, “No expectations, no pressure. Only two people who care about each other being there for each other during...a really scary, crappy time.”
Tucking her hair behind her ears, wishing that his hands were in it again, Buffy said, “It’s okay if you don’t want to. And...and it’s okay...that you can’t --” She bit her top lip, looking away from him again as once more her voice betrayed her with the threat of a sob, “With me.” Another deep breath, air filling her lungs and burning as she felt the promise of breaking down coming closer and closer to fruition - fear, loss, heartache all coming to a head at the same time.
Cappie gave a rueful smile. It would be so easy for him to give in to her, to stay, to tell himself he was there to comfort her, to let her convince him that the way he was acting didn’t make him a freaking sociopath. The problem was, he knew he couldn’t trust himself. He’d already done the unforgivable; he’d let himself forget how strong her feelings for him were in amongst the maelstrom of his own emotions and he’d given into impulse by kissing her. He’d led her on and he knew that, if he stayed, he’d only end up giving into his impulses again. It was who he was. He had never been very good at impulse control and, even though he’d grown up in many ways, he knew he was at his weakest when he was hurting, like he was just then.
Pressing his lips together to match the furrow of his brow, he shook his head.
“If I stay, it’ll only make things worse.”
He knew it wasn’t the answer she wanted, just like he’d known that Rebecca wouldn’t take him staying in Atlantis well, but he’d made up his mind.
Still, he hesitated. He felt terrible for the state he was leaving her in and he wished he could offer her some comfort. However, their relationship had become a bit of a minefield and he didn’t know where was safe to tread any more.
He let his eyes flutter shut for a moment and he sighed before turning to leave.
Swallowing back down the ever-growing lump in her throat, Buffy nodded slightly. Deep down, she knew that he was right. That he was trying to do the right thing and spare her any more pain; but that was all she felt in that moment - pain. She wanted to be mad at him, to write him off but just as she couldn’t with Angel, she couldn’t do it with Cappie, either, no matter how much both had hurt her. He still meant too much to her.
It was beyond frustrating, hurtful. It would’ve been so much easier if she could just hate him, if she could scream and throw things at him, tell him to leave her alone; but she couldn’t. Even after all this, she couldn’t bring herself to do or feel any of that. She didn’t want to leave things this way between them but once again, felt completely helpless. Part of her wanted to stop him, to grab him and kiss him again while the other part wanted to respect his wishes.
There was a battle waging inside of her, feeling like she was being pulled in so many different directions - she was scared, terrified that something would happen to him or someone else that she cared about, that she didn’t know what was going to happen next; she was sad, having lost someone and feeling regrets about their relationship; there was a sharp pain in her chest, as if she could feel her heart actually breaking; there was still the desire to throw caution to the wind and go after what she wanted, so there wouldn’t have to be any more regrets; she felt selfishness and guilt at having any feelings of fear and pain when others had it so much worse, how could she only be focusing on herself?; and there was a numbness trying to work its way through all of them, to give her a reprieve from feeling so much at once.
There was a weight on her chest, like a boulder. It felt like it was crushing everything beneath, making it hard to breathe. She could feel the anxiety and distress rising inside of her, gasping softly. “Cappie --” she choked out before crouching down, resting her arms on her thighs and her head in her hands. This wasn’t the kind of throwing caution to the wind that she’d had in mind, unabashedly breaking down into harsh sobs in front of him. If she could’ve only waited a few more seconds, he would’ve been gone. Buffy didn’t want to make him feel bad, she truly didn’t - and not all of her tears were because of him.
She was completely overwhelmed with everything, not having had time to really properly process it all. Crying so hard that you could hardly breathe, finding yourself gasping for breaths in between sobs wasn’t necessarily the best way to do that, but it was all she had at the moment. Her hair stuck to her cheeks as tears streamed down her face, the soda can that had been shaken up inside of her finally releasing its pent up contents. She turned her head away from him, ashamed but unable to stop now that the flood gates had been opened.
Cappie could hear Buffy’s muffled sobs from behind him, heard her choke out his name, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop or he’d end up giving in to her. When this war was over, if they made it out alive, he would try to make it up to her but, right now, he knew he had to keep walking.