Summary: Title: Bring Sweet Death
Author: Pagan Pylea Princess
Characters: Willow, Xander
Summary: An alternative ending to Buffy Season six - Grave. You may just think it's a novelisation, but you'll be pleasantly (or heart-brokenly) surprised....
Disclaimer: Want to own. Don’t own. Wish I did. (This fic includes some dialogue from the script of the season 6 finale Grave. I don’t own that either. That’s David Fury’s work.)
Feedback: If you could, I’d love it, ta!
****
“Persa Plexa, of the cleansing fires from the depths. Burn away the suffering souls and bring sweet death.”
Staring up at her magnificent creation, Willow Rosenberg knew that she was no longer Willow Rosenberg. The power that flooded her brain and surged through her veins made her very being tingle with delight and her grand plan was finally nearing its fruition. Her ears thudded as blood pounded at her temples, and her head ached from the voices of a thousand people, whispering and screaming and crying their pain all over her. It was ten – no, a million times more painful than her initial sorrow and distress. Tara…
She felt the tingle grow into a prickle of coarse lightning that trailed up her spine and hit her nervous system. She shuddered at the power that coursed through her veins and held out her clawed hands toward the temple in supplication.
The winds picked up. Violently they began to swirl around her, the dust whipping up into a tornado, the dry leaves of the autumn spiralling around, caught in an endless dance. Power surged up through the earth, and funnelled into Willow’s over-powered body. She felt ultimate supremacy as the green energy she absorbed shot out of her outstretched hands and filled the statuesque goddess before her with absolute power. The power to destroy the world.
And as soon as it started, it stopped.
Huh? – what?
As the dust began to settle Willow – no, she wasn’t Willow anymore - looked up confused, to see what blocked the channel between her and the destructive temple that would soon bring this planet to its end.
“Hey there black-eyed girl. Whatcha doin?”
She sneered. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be this stupid. She thought she’d put a downer on this plan when she’d otherwise engaged the Slayer, now she had to deal with this?
“Get outta here.” She spoke with contempt.
He seemed jovial and good-humoured – not on his knees praying for her to stop, before she destroyed this pitiful world like he should be. Like they all should be.
“Oh no. You’re not the only one with powers y’know,” he mocked jokingly, “You may be a hyped-up Uber-Witch, but this Carpenter can drywall you into the next century.”
She scowled. Stupid boy. That was all he was, a distant memory to her. He wasn’t her friend. He had been Willow’s friend. And she wasn’t there any more.
“I’m not joking Xander.” God, did I just say his name?
“Get out of my way. Now.”
In an effort to get him away from her, she threw out a hand. A black-purple cloud of energy swirled forward and hit him squarely in the chest. He stumbled and collapsed, the magicks completely knocking him over. She hadn’t hurt him. But next time, she would.
She righted herself, stared up at Persa Plexa’s temple and felt the shudder, the rush of power once more. Her jet black hair fluttered around her as the wind picked up yet again and her energy filtered into the temple ahead of her.
Giles’ eyes snapped open and he sighed.
“There.”
He whispered a barely audible word, but Anya caught it.
“What?” She asked, arms firmly round him as if to keep him bound to the world.
He looked up at her with hopeful eyes. “It’s not over.”
The rush was invigorating; she saw her fingers, threaded with black veins, ahead of her, working their destiny. This was how it was meant to be. She felt the power. Soon she would feel nothing.
It stopped.
Again she looked up angrily, wondering who on earth would be stupid enough to get in her way this time.
She merely saw Xander.
“You can’t stop this.” She snarled, now thoroughly losing her patience.
His breathing heavy he stood a little straighter and looked her in the eyes.
Looking at me like I’m… her…
“Yeah, I get that.” He sighed. “It’s just…where else am I gonna go?” His question resonated through her, confusing her. His voice shook a little as he carried on, “You’ve been my best friend my whole life. World gonna end, where else would I wanna be?”
She felt a pang. What was that – guilt? Mercy? Sorrow? He was breaking her, trying to get her to feel the feelings she no longer cared to wallow in. She wouldn’t let him – no, he wouldn’t get in.
“Is this the master plan?” she began, mockingly, trying to separate herself from him, “you’re gonna stop me by telling me you love me?”
But Xander saw right through her façade and bit back, “Well I was gonna walk you off a cliff and hand you an anvil, but err… seemed kinda cartoony.”
Time was, she could remember, she probably would have cracked a smile. But now it just pissed her off. Because it made her remember those times. Those times when she could smile.
“Still making jokes.”
“I’m not joking.” He said, and for the first time, she caught his eyes properly.
And he had her.
“I know you’re in pain. I can’t imagine the pain you’re in.”
He can’t imagine – none of them can imagine. She thought wearily.
“And I know you’re about to do something apocalyptically evil and stupid and hey, still wanna hang.”
That’s my Xander she thought. She shut her eyes, desperately clinging to that power, that thread of anger that made her so powerful. She had to end it. All of it.
Then he hit her hard. But not with fists. With mere words.
“You’re Willow.”
She looked up viciously and narrowed her eyes. Any compassion she had been feeling for the guy suddenly drained away.
“Don’t call me that.” She spat, but he interrupted.
“The first day of kindergarten, you cried because you broke the yellow crayon, and you were too afraid to tell anyone.”
No, don’t let him make you remember that stuff – you weren’t innocent, or happy – ever! Always the pain… don’t let him…
“You’ve come pretty far – ending the world not a terrific notion. But the thing is, yeah. I love you.”
No, you can’t let him…don’t let him make you feel…
“I love crayon-breaky Willow, and I love scary-veiny Willow. So if I’m going out, it’s here.” He stood his ground.
Keep the anger… don’t let it…
“If you wanna kill the world, well then start with me. I’ve earned that.”
She tried her best to make sure he thought he wasn’t getting to her, that she was too far-gone for his help.
I am – aren’t I?
“You think I won’t?” she sneered.
He looked into her eyes with honesty and conviction.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll still love you.”
“Shut up!”
Before she could stop herself she’d reacted. Thunder rumbled above as her powers escaped. Xander put a hand to his face in pain and brought it away blood stained. Deep scratches ran down his right cheek. But he looked back up at her, eyes big and brown, still as normal as ever. Still her friend. And his look questioned her, as if he was wondering, “that all ya got?”
“I love you.”
Again, she let loose with the magicks, its crackling energy flew into her childhood friend, knocking him to the ground. His shirt tore and his flesh bled as deep scratches embedded in his chest. But again, he stood and spoke defiantly, out of breath,
“I-“
She threatened him but he continued.
“-love you.”
“Shut up!!” She screamed, her eyes beginning to well. Magic hit him again but didn’t do any damage. She was losing her hold, the world was rushing back.
No, I… need to… it has to end… I…
“I love you Willow.” He was coming toward her.
“Stop!” The magic caused him no pain, no discomfort, he could walk right through it.
“I love you.”
Tears began to roll down her face, tears of anger and frustration because he was winning and tears of pain because... but she ignored them. Continuing to try and threaten him, she threw out her hands and he stepped back, a little cautious.
“Stop!”
But nothing happened. She began sobbing wretchedly.
NO, he can’t – he WON’T do this to me… I’m powerful… I’m… I’m…
As he grew closer she grew angry, he couldn’t do this! She was too powerful, beyond help! And it hurt. The pain fresh from Tara’s death came flooding back.
She hit him. Over and over again, into his wounds, to cause him pain. Beating his chest.
But it was gone. The anger, the determination. The guilt.
She was flooded with overwhelming pain. Her heart ached and tears ran viciously down her face as she sobbed. And she collapsed to the ground with the sorrow.
He took her gently into his arms and she cried into him. Her hair swiftly changed from that dark evil black, to a calming natural red.
I just need someone to love me…
“I love you.” He whispered.
******
A solitary tear trickled down her cheek from her black eyes.
If only it had gone that way. If things hadn’t gone so far, she might be better.
She looked down upon her friend’s broken body. His blood running from his chest across his shirt, onto the dusty ground. Although covered in wounds he appeared to be sleeping. He was still, quiet. Just like Tara.
He had tried to save the world. Now he had left it.
He had been its only saviour. And now he was gone.
He’d stepped in. And stepped out.
“Hey black-eyed girl. Whatcha doin.”
She suddenly thought back to her daydream. Where he’d told her he loved her. Would he have told her that in the real world, if she hadn’t killed him on the spot?
She stood straight, far beyond human levels of pain and hurt to shed another tear.
She raised her chin to the temple before her, righting herself – ready to continue.
Tara was dead.
Buffy and Dawn were almost certainly dead, with no weapons she knew of which they could use to fight the demons she had sent. Anya could be crushed under a pile of rubble in the Magic box where Willow had left Giles to die, and she had just killed her last link to humanity.
Xander.
She looked up to Persa Plexa. Time to end the suffering.
She looked down at her childhood friend – her confidante – her everything. She was far beyond help. He would never have been able to tap into her. Not now.
And she whispered something she thought could never be possible for her to now say and mean.
“I’m sorry.”
******
Giles glared up at the Magic box ceiling as Anya waited for death to come.
I’m sorry.
A tear trickled down his cheek and he shut his eyes.
Their last hope was gone.
*******
As she silently prayed that her friends would forgive her, and that someday she would see them again, she raised her hands, let the power surge through her and was ready to bring sweet death.
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