Disclaimer: No, I'm not this evil...evil, but not this evil. Joss owns 'em.
Author's Notes: Okay, this is therapy fic for IWRY, also involving prophecies, apocalypses and whatever odd things pop into my head...but mostly B/A-ness. The parts are all gonna be first person from different people's points of views. Bad things will happen. This is gonna be very angsty, but I promise, it will all work out in the end!
Teaser: The End of Days is coming to Sunnydale...
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Part Thirteen
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Light of darkness shines in her eyes. She fears, not for herself, but for the loss of herself. Death does not frighten her, but surrender does. Pain is her ally, frienship her fear. She was born to fight but only in the absence of the fight can she help humanity and fight against the End of Days.
—The Diary of Edward Radcliffe, 1838, on his vision of the Dark Lady
Angel
I died.
I remember what it was like, the first time. For one moment when Darla drained my blood, I died. Just for a split second before the blood once again flowed in my veins, but I have never forgotten it. No vampire ever does. We don’t talk about it…but we remember.
When we stepped into the Hellmouth, we died. Or I did anyway.
It’s almost impossible to describe. There’s no physical place, but you don’t even notice. It’s like your soul is the place, the entire universe. You know only yourself and you can’t even imagine anything else. At least, that’s what it was like for me. Both times it was only for a moment, so what happens after that I cannot say. But for that moment…
I can describe all this, but it is impossible to really know what I mean without being there. Suffice it to say, for a moment I died.
And outsider intruded on my consciousness, and yet she wasn’t outside at all. She was part of me. I know I said that I was all and there was nothing else, and it’s a contradiction to say that Buffy was there as well, except that she was me and therefore there wasn’t anything else. She belonged in my soul. We were one.
Dead, of course, but together all the same.
I didn’t regret, or perhaps I didn’t know how to in that not-place. Regret is not an option when you don’t know anything outside of yourself. What is there to regret within your own mind?
Plenty.
And then, as quickly as the peace had come, it was gone again, vanished like smoke into the night sky. We stood, hand in hand still, in the Hall of Lost Souls where the Oracles may be found. But it wasn’t the Hall at all, for the edges blurred and shifted and beyond them the fires of Hell could be seen, licking the edges, waiting for a chance to consume us all.
I shivered. Not my favorite vacation spot.
We turned and they were there, all of them. Whole, healthy. Though Buffy looked perfectly fine and we had just died. We were probably still dead, even as we stood there.
It’s a hard thing to comprehend, death. Far beyond the human consciousness. Or even the vampire.
Still, Doyle and Cordelia standing there, their eyes slightly anxious, their hands clenched together, was an amzing sight. A good sight.
Buffy made a little sound beside me and my hand tightened over hers.
"Hi guys," Xander said. "About time you showed up."
"We’ve been waiting," Giles said. "But I’d hoped…how did you die?"
"We walked into Hell," Buffy said. "What do we do now?"
That was the question. Silence descended, smothering us and one of the walls flickered translucently, revealing horros beyond. The room, whatever it was, wouldn’t hold long.
And then someone answered.
Buffy
"You must join together," an unfamiliar voice said. From Oz’s mouth. I looked at him sharply and took a step back when another face flickered across his.
"Only then can you fight," another voice said. A strange woman’s face flickered scross Cordelia’s, spoke, then dissapeared. Cordelia yelped and felt her face frantically.
"The Oracles," Angel said beside me.
"What Oracles?" I asked, watching the others warily. I wanted to throw myself into Giles’s arms, to hug Willow and Xander and hell, even Faith. But what if it wasn’t really them? What if this were a trick?
What would it really matter? We’d already died.
There are some things that once if definitely enough.
"They’re connected to the Powers That Be," Angel answered.
"What are they talking about?" Cordelia asked.
"Dinner?" Xander suggested. Cordelia gave him a withering stare.
"To fight the Lords, you must become One," the male Oracle said, appearing over Giles’ face. Xander shuddered.
"God that’s freaky," he muttered.
"A Lord?" Willow asked, confused.
"No, one person," I said absently, somehow getting what he meant, though I can’t for the life of me say how. It’s not like he was being super-clear or anything…If this Oracle thing was really a "he" at all…Now I was just confusng myself…
"Uh…how’s that gonna work?" Xander asked.
"Would you shut up?" Doyle demanded. Cordelia gave him a look. I rolled my eyes. Here we were dead, about to be consumed by the fires of Hell and they were squabbling. By the way Doyle and Cordelia held hands, I had this feeling that Doyle was jealous. Now if only Anya was here…things would be really interesting.
"You must surrender yourselves to them," the Oracle said from Willow. Her eyes widened (once they were hers again).
Okay, I admit, it was really freaky. Not that the past week had been exactly normal.
I wanted to start crying, but I didn’t know if it was happiness that they were there, or pain that they weren’t really. That we were all dead.
How could we be dead? I felt like I’d always felt. I didn’t feel dead.
"Woah, that doesn’t sound good," Faith said, shaking her head.
"It’s the only way," the Oracle said, flickering across Xander’s face.
"Would you stop that?" I snapped. Angel’s hand tightened on mine, trying to soothe me. But how can you soothe something like that. We were dead, and the people I loved weren’t them, or they were, but these Oracles—
"H-how exactly are we supposed to do that?" Willow asked in a tiny, nervous voice. Oz moved closer to her, looking protective.
"Touch them," the voice said, moving too quickly for me to see who’s mouth it spoke from. It was as if the thing was everywhere at once. "And let go."
We stood in silence. Somehow we all knew that by "them" they meant Angel and I. We were the ones that would have to fight.
"But we’ve already lost," I whispered, looking up at Angel.
"Maybe not," he said softly, his eyes caressing my face. The room around us shuddered and I caught a glimpse of fire. Searing heat wrapped around us for a second, choked away the air and was gone before our skin could blister, before our hair could singe.
"All right," Xander said, taking a step forward. I realized that they were all ranged opposite us, only Angel and I were separate. I stepped towards Xander, releasing Angel’s hand. He smiled at me softly. "I always wanted to be a part of you," he said, and reached out to clasp my hand. Our fingers intertwined and then he was gone—but he wasn’t, really. I could still feel him there, I could still see his smile and hear his voice. But he wasn’t standing there next to me. He was in me.
"Xander?" Willow said in a small voice.
"He’s still here Will," I reassured her. Giles came up beside me.
"I wish you were truly my daughter Buffy. I love you as one," he said, when I turned to look into his eyes.
"You are my father Giles, in the ways that count," I replied. "Thank you for everything."
"Fight this," he said, "and win." And he touched my face and was gone, and not-gone. I swallowed and licked my lips, turning back to Angel. He walked up beside me.
"Ah Hell man, I’m just along for the ride anyway," Doyle said, walking up and clapsing Angel’s hand. He vanished. Cordelia made a little sound.
"If he can do it I can do it," she said firmly, walking right up to Angel. "But you better get us through this!" He smiled slightly and touched her hand. Cordy was gone. Oz kissed Willow softly.
"I love you," he said. Angel’s hand found mine. They two of them walked forward. Willows hand found mine and she gave a tiny sweet smile before she dissapeared. Oz shook Angel’s hand and was gone. We turned to stare at Spike and Faith.
"No way," Faith said, taking a step backward. "There is no fucking way." Spike watched her and then shook his head.
"Bloody hell," he muttered, walking up to Angel. "This doesn’t mean I like you. Either of you."
"Right Spike," I said softly. Angel and Spike shared a long look, sire to childe, and then Spike was gone. We both turned to look at Faith.
"I’m not surrending myself to anyone!" she yelled.
Anyone, the hall echoed back. Anyone, anyone.
Faith
"Faith, you don’t have a choice!" Buffy snapped. "You think I want to fight whatever this thing is?"
Did she think I gave a crap whether she wanted to fight it?
"Well then let me fight it! But I’m not giving myself up to anyone. I can take care of myself!" I exclaimed. "Being dead isn’t bad enough, I have to surrender myself to some little wimp who can’t even get up the nerve to kill me!"
B went white and shut up. Which was kind of what I was going for.
Fire licked in through one of the walls. Time was obviously running out. But I couldn’t let go. I couldn’t. A long time ago, when my mom started drinking, I realized that I was all I had. A couple of times I let myself be lulled into thinking someone else cared, but they never really did. Or even so, it didn’t matter. No one ever stuck around long enough to show it. My Watcher died. I realized again, I was all I had. Buffy acted like a friend, but she never really was. She never really told me things. I was all I had.
And there’s no way in Hell I’m ever giving myself up.
Of course, we were in Hell.
"Please Faith," Buffy said quietly. My head jerked up and I looked at her. "Please. We can’t do it without you. We’ll all die. The world will end. I’m strong, but I’m not strong enough. Please."
God damn me, I couldn’t help it. I let myself think, for a minute, maybe she did care.
One freaking minute too many.
I stepped forward and let my fingers touch hers, and let myself go. And then I was gone, and the Hall dropped away, leaving us in Hell.
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