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Disclaimer: I don't own them. They belong to Joss Whedon, Fox, and Mutant Enemies.
Merry Christmas Eve.
I tried to visit you today. They wouldn’t let me. The nurses said that a girl like me shouldn’t be visiting a place like this, especially during Christmas Eve. I wanted to yell at them, to tell them that if it weren’t for us they wouldn’t be alive today. I wanted to scream and throw things and just… all I wanted was to visit you. Was that too much to ask? And they turned me away.
I walked around Sunnydale afterwards. It’s so Christmassy here. All the things I love about Sunnydale emerge during the holiday season - the Christmas carolers, the festive lights and displays. Even the snow-in-a-can people like to spray on their windows reminds me of last year, when the miracle occurred.
I remember I came home that night with Angel by my side. Mom had this look on her face like she was ready to throw a tantrum. She’s never liked Angel, I’m well aware, and she seems happier, more at ease now that she knows Angel’s gone. But you, you were standing there with this huge smile on your face, this knowing smile like you could *see* how happy I was at that moment. Maybe you felt it too. During the time you worked for the Mayor, I felt rage too. I hated the world because I knew as long as I lived in it I would never be able to rest.
That night the entire Scooby Gang was there, even Giles. We opened presents and laughed and reminisced about probably everything. You were so happy then, do you remember? It was your first real Christmas, with family, friends, fruitcake… the whole nine yards. The tree was beautiful, and somehow during the festivities I failed to notice that you had taken down the star and placed the angel on top. And I know that you knew how special that gesture really was.
Everyone was asleep by the time dawn came. Mom had retired upstairs, and Will, Xander, Oz and Cordelia were knocked out on the couch. Giles had given Angel a lift home and it was just you and me. We talked for hours that night, about everything. You showed me your battle scars and I showed you mine. I still remember that gash right above your heart, and I remember thinking how much pain you must have gone through and praying you would never know that kind of pain again. I promised that to myself, that as long as I was breathing my Sister in Arms would always be safe.
I guess I was wrong.
But I won’t dwell on that tonight. I want to tell you everything about Christmas so far, so you know what’s going on. Because even if you didn’t say it, I know that Christmas last year was one of your favorite memories. Because I know you Faith, remember? Sister in Slaying and Matron in Arms.
This year I actually started Christmas shopping early. I ducked into all the usual stores, and even picked up something for Cordelia and Angel. Angel moved to LA and apparently so did Cordy. They run this business called ‘Angel Investigations’ with a guy named Doyle who has visions.
Doyle’s gone now, though. He died the way only warriors do - fighting to save lives and in the end knowing the only way it’s possible is by giving up their own. Sometimes there’s no real purpose, you know? We live, we fight, we die. End of story. Our existence is a Memento Mori in itself.
But nights like tonight, when we can feel the energy and the love and the hope that resounds from the depths of every human being, it suddenly seems so clear. Because looking at the glow little children have as they tear into their presents, or watching the way people interact with each other with such joy, and love, and admiration...
There’s a reason we fight, Faith. And today I remember exactly what it is.
I bought Willow this really great outfit. It has some cool folk stuff on it, and I included a mystickal stone necklace along with it. It’s supposed to protect her, help stop her spells from going crazy and focus her energy. I know you never really liked Willow, probably because she’s not like us. She doesn’t heal in a day, and she doesn’t fight. Willow’s not a warrior and yet she’s placing herself on the front lines; I know that bothers you. And I won’t defend her. But Willow’s a big girl, she knows what she’s doing. I just hope she has enough sense to step back down and realize that this isn’t her fight.
Xander’s present was easy to find. He loves chocolate, and anything edible. So I got him a gift certificate to the candy store down on Myrrh. You remember that place, don’t you? I hope so. Xander’s a good guy all in all. Sometimes I may not agree with the things he says, but I love him all the same. I know that he’ll stand by me as a fight, and always be there to put things in perspective. And maybe that’s what makes him so special, or maybe it’s just because I know inside is a valiant White Knight ready to spring out. Somehow, in the strangest ways, Xander manages to save the day.
I got Anya the Kama Sutra. I know she’ll enjoy it.
As for Giles, I got him something special. I’ve been searching for it for such a long time I was almost positive it didn’t exist. Even the Watcher’s Council doesn’t have it - Merrick’s diaries. Merrick was my first watcher - I told you this, didn’t I? - who died saving my life. Pike took his diaries and disappeared, promising to send them to me eventually. After Pike died, I had no more contact to them whatsoever. I didn’t know where they were. And Giles has been dying to get his hands on them. Apparently, Merrick has some pretty cool mojo workage going on in that book.
Merry Christmas Eve, Faith.
I know you’re still struggling. There’s this selfish part of me that says - practically begs - for you to sit back up and awaken, telling me everything’s okay and that we’re Slayers. Slayers don’t cry, remember? But then the other part of me realizes it’s a selfish wish and that all I want for you is to be happy. And if that means letting go, then so be it.
I once saw a man struggling with Alzheimer’s. He looked miserable, and I wondered what person would be cruel enough to make him hold on? I know what that feels like now, Faith. I don’t want to give up hope that one day you might fight your way out of your coma and be the same old Faith again I knew and loved. It feels like betrayal.
But then I remember my own words - on the brink of death... you either balance or fall, Faith. And either way, you’re never the same again.
I hope one day you’ll be able to read this letter yourself. You can see the smudges my tears left behind and I know that you’re the only other person in the world who’ll understand that pain.
It’s too warm for snow outside. The sky is clear and I can see the stars littering the sky. I hope right now you’re remembering that Christmas last year, when the Miracle occurred. I hope you feel safe, and happy, and loved. I love you, Faith.
I guess this is where you tell me "stop being so sappy, B."
It’s 12:01. Merry Christmas.
Yours,
Buffy.