*Disclaimer: Buffy, Angel, Spike, Dru, Giles, and the rest of the Slayerettes & co. belong to the creative genius of Joss Whedon, and legally to Mutant Enemy. Any other characters, as well as the idea belongs to me!
*Authors Notes: This is one of my answers to the season finale. I was deeply moved by the episode, and was left wondering what happens next. Becoming II was the just the beginning...what are the effects that episode played on the characters? While Im positive that this isn’t what Joss has in store for us, I’ve always been intrigued by this idea, so I figured now would be the perfect time to exercise it. "All is the Fear..." is Book One of my Aftermath Trilogy. This is at heart a Buffy/Angel fanfic, as I love their romance and couldn’t possibly see Angel, or Buffy, falling for another. Also, the prologue is based on the last couple minutes of B2; the rest is my own idea. Feedback is greatly appreciated, just don’t be too harsh. - = song lyrics; * = emphisis; ‘’ = thought
Prologue
“All is the fear and nothing is the love,
As little is the wisdom, where the flight
So runs against all reason.” -Shakespeare, Macbeth
Silence; a chilling emptiness that echoed the void in her heart. Silence; her body fell still and did not move a muscle as it desperately tried to evaluate the situation before her. Silence; final, definitive nothingness that stopped time. A darkness that reached the inner chasms of her soul. She thought she could live without him...she was wrong. Severed was the bond that remained between him until he was killed by her hands. Suddenly, a wave of realization swept over her and in an instant, the reality of her disloyalty finally began to register in her mind.
“Buffy...” Her name had left his mouth, full of the betrayal and hurt that was mirrored in his eyes. Seconds later, his blood had mixed with the portal to Hell that threatened to envelop the earth, taking her Angel that she had willingly offered with it. Buffy’s face began to scrunch up in remorse over her actions, although she tried to hold back the guilt that was fighting to make itself known. -Winter here is cold and bitter...- She turned away from the statue in front of her and walked out of the old mansion, leaving behind what would forever be Angels tomb.
-It’s chilled us to the bone. Haven’t seen the sun for weeks;- Each step moved Buffy closer to her house. No longer was it the home she knew a mere twenty-four hours ago. Now, it was only a quiet building in which she was not welcome. -...too long, too far from home.- Coming to a stop, she stared at her old house with longing. She desperately wanted to be forgiven, but regardless, she was not going to allow herself even that little satisfaction. The hurt she had caused was far too great; there was only one option left. With finality, she went over to the side of the house and hoisted herself onto the roof that lead to her bedroom window. Knowing that her mother would still be asleep, she quietly opened the portal and climbed through. The tiny space was like a shrine to the Buffy of the past, pictures of her friends adorning the walls and desktops. Buffy sighed sadly as she grabbed a duffel bag out her closet. From there, she threw in some of her favorite clothes haphazardly. Her slaying materials she hid in her drawers: stakes, holy water, and crosses, followed. After a moment’s thought, Buffy added a framed picture of herself with Willow and Xander. She hesitated adding Angel’s leather jacket, but eventually did, while at the same time she put on his cross and the Cladduah ring hed given to her.
Only one task was left to do before she would leave her house for good. Buffy reached into her desk and pulled out her favorite stationary. As quickly as possible, she wrote her mother a brief letter of explanation that she hoped would clear things up. Hearing Joyce stir below her and approach the staircase, Buffy grabbed her bag and left through the window for the last time, leaving it open to let the wind blow a haunting breeze into the empty room.
-Feels just like I’m sinking...- Joyce, still clad in her robe, made her way up the stairs, thinking she had heard some commotion on the second story. “Buffy?” she called, hoping her daughter would answer; she didn’t. -...and I claw for solid ground.- Walking towards Buffys room, Joyce placed her hand gently on the door frame, peering in cautiously. She gasped softly at the sight before her eyes. -I’m pulled down by the undertow. Never thought I caught feel so low.- Buffy’s bed lie in a state of disarray with clothes stroon on top on it. Her wall lacked some possessions they had just a few hours before, and there was evidence of drawers emptied. The open window sent a current of chilly air into the room and a chill ran up Joyces back. Soon, her weary eyes landed upon a sheet of paper all alone on the bed. She picked it up, frightened for her daughter’s life.
-Oh, darkness, I feel like letting go.- Joyce read the words so eloquently written in Buffys handwriting. A regretful expression began to spread across her face as the words played in her head. She had never dreamed something like this would happen. -If all of the strength and all of the courage; come and lift me from this place.- Fighting back the tears which were quickly forming, she closed her eyes and turned away from the painful sight of the bed. Buffy’s windows lit Joyces face as she reopened her eyes slowly and bowed her head.
Meanwhile, the mourning brought the beginning of another school day for the students of Sunnydale High School. One group of students, along with the librarian, assembled in the outside foyer, weary from the previous night. All noticed the lack of one usual member of the pack. -I know I can love you much better than this...- They discretely talked about Buffy’s absence and how Acathla was dormant once more. Although Xander assumed Angelus had been taken care of, Willow seemed positive that the spell worked and Buffy was spending some quality time with Angel. The Watcher, bandaged from his wounds ifflicted by the demon Angelus, wasn’t so sure. A doubting, “Perhaps.” was his only reply. Cordelia scanned the school grounds one more time and almost shrugged inwardly. Staying optimistic, she stated simply, “Well, she’s gotta show up sooner or later. We still have school.” A forlorn look written on her face, Willow was visably admitting to herself that Buffy might not be okay as she said with a hope she no longer believed, “Yeah...she’ll be here in awhile.” -Everything we say and do, hurts us all the more.- The group looked sadly at the ground and each other in turn as they realized Buffy was either not coming back or dead. -Its just that we stay...too long...in the same old sickly skin.-
They turned and started heading for the school to begin their day. Giles lead the pack, followed by Xander and Cordelia walking side by side. Finally, Oz pushed Willow in her wheelchair away from their meeting place. All wore pensive faces as they walked along silently. None of them could have known that it would be a very long time before they would see Buffy again, nor did they realize that she was just across the street, watching over them. Buffy stood by a stone wall, wind blowing her blond hair from her face. Sadly, she stared in the direction where her friends had disappeared. She hated to do this to them, but she must. Even though the want to follow them was almost over powering, she couldn’t move. She wouldn’t move; she had caused them enough pain. -I’m pulled down by the undertow. Never thought I could feel so low. Oh, darkness, I feel like letting go.-
Averting her eyes from the pull of the school, Buffy turned around slowly and moved silently away. Never again would she walk these sidewalks in the glistening sun with her friends. Nor would she patrol its neighborhoods in the chill of the night. She felt no want to do so, either. All she desired was the comfort of sights that wouldn’t remind her of her crimes against Angel and her friends. Buffy Summers, guardian of the Hellmouth and one of the strongest Slayers ever, was unofficially retiring. The Chosen One was dead, and God help the world. -If all of the strength and all of the courage; come and lift me from this place.-
A coach bus rolled down the streets of Sunnydale, carrying Buffy out of town. She sat in her seat staring blankly out the window, leaving her life behind her willingly. -I know I can love you much better than this...Full of grace.- Her heart had died last night when Angel’s eyes begged her for understanding. When she sent her Angel to Hell, Buffy knew there would be no forgiveness for her, and she was glad. She fully intended to make herself suffer until the day she died from the torture of heartache and guilt. The road that lie before her was meant to be traveled on her own, without the comfort of friends and family. She’d see to it. -I know I can love you much better than this.-
Buffy looked straight ahead and closed her eyes briefly in grief as the tears welled up once more, and a sob choked in her throught after seeing the object the bus was passing. -Its better this way.- In friendly lettering, a green traffic sign read, “Now Leaving Sunnydale. Come Back Soon!” The former Slayer began to cry in earnest. She had no where to go, no one that cared; she was alone. For the first time since she had learned the prophecy that she was to die, Buffy was truly afraid. She was afraid for her life, she was afraid for her soul that had slan her lover...afraid of what she would do without him to keep her sanity.
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