*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!
*See Author's Notes in prologue.
*Rating: PG-13 for adult language
Part One
“All is the fear and nothing is the love,
As little is the wisdom, where the flight
So runs against all reason.” -Shakespeare, Macbeth
A lone car sat in the parking area by the old shipping docks on the bad part Sunnydale, its windows blackened to the outside world. On the inside, a bleach blond vampire sat staring at the female companion who lay unconscious next to him. Drusilla’s brown hair had fallen out of the intricate bun she had placed it in, and now it was strewn in all directions. Following the deep brown waves with his eyes, Spike remembered a time when that silk would run between his fingers, always accompanied by a blissful sigh from her lips.
‘Will it be the same, Luv?’ he thought as he watched her form, which had not moved since their fight in the mansion. He’d hurt her. The blood that was clotted on the side of her soft, pale cheek was evidence of that. Not wanting to wake her, Spike leaned over and gently began to lick at the dry crimson patch on her skin. Drusilla stirred, but did not wake. Thankful for this, Spike sat back up and checked his watch. There was still a long time before sundown would come. Weighing his options, he put the car into drive and headed for the remains of their old home, the factory on the outskirts of town.
Every now and then, Spike would turn his head to check on his sleeping princess. In sleep, she looked pure, as if she was a virginal gift solely for him. Yet, as this thought brought around pleasant imagery in his head, Spike remembered what the Slayer had said to him the previous night. She had told him flat out that it wasnt her problem if his girlfriend was a woe. Though he had dismissed it earlier in his haste to rid himself of Angelus, now Spike pondered this seriously. Was it true? Just how far had her relations with their sire gone when he wasnt around to watch them?
It couldn’t be the truth; Drusilla loved him. Still, the memory of his pet throwing herself at him in anger for harming Angelus waltzed bitterly in his mind. She was willing to hurt Spike for wanting to kill him... ‘Bloody Hell,’ he thought as it hit him. The past day might have been for nothing. For the first time in centuries, Spike prayed. He prayed that Drusilla might forgive him for harming her back in the mansion.
Suddenly, a somewhat comforting memory surfaced in his head. When Angelus was first cursed so many years go, they had been traveling with him. Drusilla, was Spike’s one and only paramour, just as it had been from the first time they had met. Even then, however, she was drawn to her sires affections. A grin crossed his face as he recalled how pissed Darla had been when Angelus started lusting after Drusilla. It had been classic. He remembered the way Drusilla had been heart broken when Angelus was given his soul back and shunned her. Spike had been the one to tell Angleus of the innocent girl that was just asking for trouble by walking alone every night. It was that girl that was a beloved gypsy daughter, the same that cursed him. Drusilla was furious with Spike when she found out he had taken her Angel away, but soon their love made her to forget hed ever existed...until Sunnydale, that is. So, it would be the same now. With us out of the country, she’ll forget him soon. And this time, there would be no Slayer to stop them since he was fairly sure Angelus had killed her last night.
In an improved mood, Spike turned onto the street that the factory was on, squinting out the windshield to find the exact building. Once hed found it, he pulled over to the side that was charred severely from the blaze the damned Watcher had begun in his rage. ‘Now there’s one man who knows how to party,’ Spike thought, smiling a little in spite of himself. Figuring the fire damage would have weaken the bricks, he rammed into the side of the factory, emerging on the other side of the wall. He pulled the car out of the direct beams of light that were flooding the room. Once finished, Spike climbed out of the vehicle and surveyed the room. What used to be the commons area of their hideout was burnt to a black crisp and it reaked of smoke, but it would do for a few hours.
From the car, he heard Drusilla moving around and he shut his eyes. This was it; he would find out whether or not things could go back to normal. Spike turned slowly and looked at his princess. Her hair was out of place, tear streaks marred her cheeks, but she was more gorgeous than he ever remembered her being. “Hello, luv,” Spike whispered with compassion.
Drusilla slinked up to him, her face set without expression until the anger took control and her face shifted to that of the demons. Drawing back her hand, she slapped him across his cool visage. Shocked, he said, “Now, that hurt.” Not satisfied, Drusilla hit Spike once more, her long claw like nails digging into his flesh. Blood began to seep from the open wounds as he said simply, “Well, that hurt even more.”
Stopping her physical attack on him, Drusilla stood before him, demonic eyes glowing with an insane pulse. Her face twisted angrily at his disregard to the pain she had inflected. “I deserved that, luv. You feeling better? Your bruisies and all?” Suddenly breaking out into a seductive smile, embellished by her vampiric features, she replied, “Yeah. They’re callin’ to me, now. They want you to help them, help them to grow weak and die. Can you do that, my sweet? Can you kill them for princess?”
Spike grinned as she placed her lips over the scratches she had cut into his skin. Pulling at the torn flesh with her mouth, Drusilla ran her hands though Spike’s cropped hair. Finally, she moved away and began to lead him to what was left of their old bedroom. “Dru, baby, you feelin’ alright? What with being so far from Angelus?” She nodded in response. “Yeah, but I don’t want think about him, right now. We’ll talk about Angel, later. There’s too much the voices are saying, right now. They need time to tell me it all. Why don’t we find somethin’ else to do until they finish their messages in my mind?” she whispered. Spikes grin grew wider. He loved her insanity for this very reason; Dru was too much like a child to focus on anyone but him for too long. Planning to enjoy himself for the first time, Spike walked along the halls, free of the Slayer and her kin, free of Angelus, but eternally full of Drusilla.
* * *
After school that day
With a quick step, Xander walked down towards the high school library, Cordelia behind him struggling to match his speed with her heels on. Were it any other day, the teenage boy might have chosen to take a detour to the broom closet for some *quality* time with Cordy, but today was different. Throughout the entire day, Xander went to his classes he shared with Buffy, hoping against hope that the Slayer would eventually walk in. She didn’t, and worse yet, the fact that he hadnt told her about the curse like Willow sent him to do was weighing heavily on his mind.
God, Xander slow down! The books will still be on those medieval looking shelves even if we get there a little later. Xander shot a dirty look behind him and picked up the pace. Under normal circumstances, he would have jokingly insulted her back, but right now he didnt process the strength, nor the heart to be witty. He kept walking towards the library, fright for what had happened to Buffy coursing through him. So help me, if she didnt contact us because she and Angel decided to roll around in the hay, Ill take a gallon of holy water to that guy. Xander thought bitterly as he turned the final corner.
Having reached his destination, Xander pushed open the double doors of the library and scanned the room. His eyes landed immediately on the two occupants seated around the only table: Willow and Oz. Confusion written on his face, he turned to his childhood friend and asked, “Will, where’s the Giles-inator?” Silence fell upon the group as they stared at him. “Okay, so that wasn’t the slap your leg funniest thing I’ve ever said, but seeing as how...things are right now...Urgh, where is he, anyway? I’ve gotta talk to him about...”
“Buffy?” Willow finished for him. Nodding sheeply, Xander simply whispered, “Yeah. It’s not like her, ya know, to disappear like this.” Observing his distress, Willow shrugged sadly, wishing there was more she could do to comfort him. “I don’t know. Giles is in his office talking to someone, but Oz and I aren’t exactly sure of the who.” Picking his head up at the mention of his name, the currently blond teen said, “But, we do have the what going for us: Buffy’s disappearance.”
With a brief smile, Willow gestured in the direction of the Watchers office and continued, “Yeah, and Giles has been on the phone since we got here, like, five minutes ago. W-we’ve just been hanging here waiting to hear what’s up. I’m, uh, done now.” The grin emerged once more as Oz gently caressed the side of her face that did not have a bandage near it. “It’ll be okay, baby. Giles is going to do the finding thing, and Buffy’ll be back before we know it.”
Xander winced slightly as Oz bent over to kiss his girlfriend’s white patch on her forehead. When she’d begun to see him, Xander believed the pang he felt when seeing them together was merely the usual protective big brother thing he experienced with anyone hitting on one of his two best friends. But recently, whenever Oz and Willow were with each other is his company, Xander would feel incredibly jealous which confused him. He was beginning to think he was to falling in love with Cordelia and didnt need this added confusion in his life.
It was just that the accident awakened so many of his fears of losing her, that it must have brought to the surface feelings he felt in his heart that he had never admitted existed. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more Alexander Harris knew he was in love with his best friend of over a decade. ‘No,’ he told himself. ‘You have a babeilious girlfriend oogling over you, and here you’re drooling over a taken lady...again.’ Uncomfortably, Xander leaned over and kissed Cordelia softly, trying to drive the sinful lust for Willow away from his mind. It worked...for the moment.
Giving Xander a look that said, “I have no idea what’s wrong with you, but so help me, you’re telling me later,” Cordelia sat down opposite the other couple and motioned for him to do the same. As they got settled, Oz said, “So are we assuming that Buffy ran into trouble yesterday? ‘Cause I think she would have done that thing where...she’s here by now, right?”
Sighing, Willow mumbled something which sounded like an agreement, but they couldn’t quite desipher it. Not that anyone blamed her for her depression. Angelus was one of the most powerful demons to walk the earth, and he truly despised their Slayer. If she had been off her guard for just one moment last night, they all knew he would have destroyed her gladly. No one pressed the subject any further, and they chose to sit in silence.
The entire clans’ faces paled simultaneously as they heard Giles utter a choked sob from inside his office. They strained to hear what was being said on his end of the conversation. “Y-yes, of course, you’d, um...yes, w-well be here in the library. I, uh, I can’t tell you how much I...yes, I do know. We’ll see you in a while. Be safe.” The librarian hung the phone back on the hook and opened his door as though opening the door to a tomb. He was the most somber they remembered him being since Angelus had taken Ms. Calender’s life. Even then, it was no where near as bad as this was.
Giles dried his eyes with a handkerchief as the teenagers prepared themselves for the worst. Shaking his head in a mournful fashion, Giles finally turned to the group of young people with whom hed worked with for what seemed like forever. While it was very true that they got on his nerves every now and then, they were his trusted colleges and friends, which made him feel ever more terrible about having to be the bearer of this tragic news. Their eyes were already bright with unshed tears as he addressed them, “I, uh, I have some bad news. I do believe you know who and what it involves already, but well, um, I imagine a few things w-will no doubt shock you.”
First of all, Mrs. Summers will, uh, be...stopping by shortly to... He broke off, sniffiling a little as his lip quivered. “God, I’m sorry. All of you, *all* of you should never have gotten too close to Buffy. I-I let her...” Oz, Willow’s hand grasped firmly in his, spoke for his girlfriend as she found herself unable to speak. “It’s, uh, it’s alright, Giles. But, you’re sort of making with the non-sense, and I know I for one am getting really messed up, here.” Managing a tiny smile for their sakes, Giles said, “I’m terribly sorry. I shall try to retain my composure and not ramble on as such until I’ve finished.”
Cordelia nodded. “Yeah. Then you can go back to making absolutely no sense at all.” Raising an eyebrow, Xander turned to his girlfriend. “We really have to work on that compassion ability of yours, there.” Taking a deep breath, Giles resumed his speech. “Yes, well, um, as I was saying, Mrs. Summers found out about Buffy’s sacred duty as the Slayer last night, and so I was just informing her about the details of the Chosen Ones role in life. Joyce will be stopping by shortly; I don’t believe she wants to be alone.”
Grinning in a way that only Xander could, he put his open palm into the air. “Joyce? Alright Giles, hitting on the Slayer’s mother!” Off the appalled stares of everyone else, he said, “What? Don’t Brits high five?” Scowling, Giles said, “Xander, that really was most inappropriate, especially when...” He paused, sighing before he continued. “I truly wish there was any easier way inform you all of the lamentable events that have transpired, but I cannot think of any that would work. Therefore, I shall simply say t-that there is a very good chance that...that Buffy i-is dead.”
Willow began to weep openly now, suppressing nothing as Oz delicately lifted her out of the wheelchair and into his lap. Xander and Cordelia had tears in their eyes as the Willow asked through sobs, “H-how...how do we...know that she’s...?” Painfully, Giles said, “Calm, down. W-we are not certain, yet. Buffy left her mother a brief note that, from what Joyce said, sounds like it *could* be a suicidal note. I can only assume this means that she had to kill Angel last night, b-but, I’m not sure if the curse was put into effect before she sealed the vortex.”
Guilt stricken, Xander threw his gaze to the floor as he only half listened to Giles. “Evidently, Buffy came home briefly and left a note for her mother. From what Joyce said, its really quite sad, but... she, uh, she didnt think it s-should be read over the-the phone...” He broke for a moment before screaming, “Good Lord, I did this! I should never have let her get too close to him! But there love was too strong.” The Watcher slummed to the floored as he continued to speak in hushed whispers between his tears.” It was just too strong...Good Lord, have mercy, it was too strong.”
And so they sat lamenting their loss, Buffy’s loss, lost in separate worlds under the insistent light of the library, each grieving in their own way. Slowly, a chilly breeze began to fill the room, even though no portals to the outside were left uncovered. As though it was a damning wind sent from the underworld, it ravished their hearts for hurting the Slayer. It continued to rip into them as the minutes ticked by, as their tears continued to fall. No one, not even Giles, knew exactly what was on the letter. However, it was obvious that Buffy was not alright, wherever she may be.
There was one person in the room who cried not only for her, but for his own condemned soul. Xander had known about the curse Willow planned to perform, and yet the jealous feelings of contempt towards his nemesis and competitor for Buffy’s hand had kept him from passing the vital information onto the Slayer. Perhaps it was that lack of knowledge that forced Buffy to kill Angel and kill her own soul in the process. If that was the case, Xander didnt know what he would do. For Buffy to abandon them, something must have hurt her terribly, and he feared that it was he that might have spared her the torture. Never relenting, the droplets of water continued to fall forth from his eyes as he hugged Cordelia to his chest protectively.
* * *
It was worse. All throughout his life and unlife, Angel had heard stories of the fiery pits of Hell where the sinners dwell for eternity. Little demons dancing around with tiny pitchforks, while Satan stood overlooking his kingdom. Were that true, Angel would have been most grateful, for what he experienced now was beyond pain, beyond torture...and he wasnt even dead. He remained, as always, a vampire...undead. He could feel Angelus thrashing inside his body, pissed that he was once again burdened with his old soul. If only the sword Buffy had driven through him with was wooden, but it wasn’t. It hadn’t killed him, but had dragged Angelus and he into Hell. There, Angel was hit with glowing metal crosses from all angles, making his body blister and sizzle, as he was hauled to a tiny barricaded area. Once in the room, he was tied at the stake, and remained that way to this moment. Ropes dipped in holy water bound him to a giant cross which burned into the entire back of his body. Molten lava ran freely at his feet, jumping up to lick at his legs when it so desired, igniting his skin and leaving it charred and rotten.
That in itself was torture, but it wasn’t the worst part. Above him, Angel could see Heaven. Its beauty was awe inspiring, and yet he could not reach it. Hovering over his sweaty, bleeding head was pardise, Buffy’s destination one day, and the thought of not being with her killed him more than any stake could have. For the thousandth time, Angel wished to die. He wished that he might be separated from this lunatic so that his soul could join his familys’, but that would not be so. Doomed forever to this pain, Angel wept. The torment he was subjected to since the moment Buffy’s face disappeared in the vortex was nothing compared to the pain of betrayal he felt that was sharper than the blade which sent him to this darkness. Angel now remembered what he had done without his soul, and knew the torture his lover had gone through. Evidently, she didn’t care whether or not he had his soul back. Buffy truly despised him, and it cut Angel to the bone.
Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, two apparitions appeared before him. Clothed in hooded cloaks black and red, they looked like evil angels of death...which they were. Pointing to one of the corners of the room, the duo laughed bitterly. Two holograms of Buffy and Xander moved towards each other, obviously enthralled to be together. Angel knew they were saying something, but he couldn’t make it out, which was to his liking; he’d rather not know. Unfortunately, Angel soon found out what the jest of the conversation must have been as the couple moved closer and began acting out exactly what happened the night of Buffy’s birthday in Angels apartment.
The scenery fluctuated around him, and became his old apartment. Gone was the lava and the cross, gone were the two demons that kept watch over him. Now, only he existed, invisible to the two teenagers on his own bed. They kissed passionately before Xander broke away and mumbled, “Buffy, maybe we shouldn’t.” Wincing, Angel felt tears begin to rise at the Slayers next words. “Just kiss me,” she whispered, laying a hand on the boys cheek. The words that were meant for him being said with fervor to his enemy.
Angel began to sob uncontrollably as he watched them move together, as he listened to them call one others’ names. Before he knew it, Angel was one again bound to the cross, but this time he could not feel the physical pain. The aching of his heart was worse. They weren’t the real Buffy and Xander, but it still killed him. Had he the will to smile bitterly, he would have. This was the Hell he would have expected: seeing Buffy willingly in Xander’s arms, his name shouted amorously from her soft lips. It was his one true fear.
“Not true,” both demons in front of him whispered coldly to him, and they gestured towards a screen a third creature was bringing. The biggest of the original two looked him in the eyes for the first time, its red eyes blazing. It said sadistically, “That which you fear more than anything has yet to happen on Earth, but I promise you it will, and soon.” Angel squinted in thought, attempting to call up his darkest fear.
In a rush of disgust and dread, it came to him. Shaking his head furiously, Angel cried, “No! It can’t! She’s too smart to do that!” The demon laughed in his face. “Stupid soul. You have no idea how soon it is. The events leading up to it have already occurred. All the precious Slayer need do now is leave for your homeland, and it will have run full circle. Watch, watch the screen, you poor basterd. See her future and know her fate before she does.”
The group turned and left, leaving him with his misery. Watching with horror, Angel saw Buffy end up in a situation that was too much even for her...and he wasn’t there to save her. That demonic voice echoed through his head from somewhere around him. “The strongest of your fears *will* come true, as it was prophesied, and your friends shall know the fires of Hell as they burn free on your world.” Pausing dramatically, the creature continued as Angel wept at the images on the screen, “It all began with the night you were separated from your body for the second time in history. Know that if you and your Slayer whore hadn’t fucked around, none of this would ever happen in her future...” Angel opened his mouth and wailed, droning out the screaming that was all around him.
* * *
She lived right now solely to bring harm to herself. Gone was the will to live, and in its place: a deeply rooted hatred for her own hands. The very appendages that so gently caressed her lover’s cheeks before killing him in cold blood. Buffy laughed slightly inspite of herself. ‘His blood probably was cold to begin with,’ she thought. Sighing, she leaned her head against the seat once more.
Staring blankly out the window for some kind of sign that would tell her where she should go, she wondered how long it would be until her death. Would some weak vampire catch her off guard as she walked alone at night? Or would she live to an old age, the guilt of murdering *him* with her until she lay upon her death bed, awaiting her voyage into Hell.
Yes, Hell. The moment she killed her lover, Buffy knew that she would be damned to an eternity of torture and pain. What scared her was that she honestly believed with what was left of her soul that it was deserved. There was a time not long ago that Buffy felt anything could be repented and forgiven in time, but now she understood the meaning of forever. The only up side was that they would suffer together; Angel was to be in Hell for all eternity, never-ending torment inflected upon his beautiful soul. Not that I wanted him to suffer; ‘God, it should be me there in his place. God forgive me it just...it wasnt his fault. Please help...him...’
Buffy wept in earnest, sobbing into her shaking hands. The other occupants looked at her strangely, silently pondering to themselves what would made this beautiful young teenager so heart broken. What could have stolen the innocence from her so violently. One person, an elderly woman, leaned over from her seat across the aisle and asked Buffy if she was alright. When the Slayer shook her head, the old woman frowned sadly. Reaching into her purse, she said, “Young one, I was born in a country far from her, and have traveled many miles in my day. I remember wanting to take a piece of it with me, for a bit of luck, and so I did. You look as though youre about to begin a journey of your own, and Heaven knows you’ll need this more than I.”
Taking Buffy’s hand gingerly as the bus rolled to a stop, the elderly woman placed a velvet box into her palm. “Here, child. This has always brought be good fortune, and you look as though you could use some. Open it when you desire an answer, and I guarantee you will receive one.” Buffy dried her eyes with the back of her free hand as she watched the woman get up from her seat and pick up her belongings. Looking at the box for a moment, Buffy glanced back up and said, “How...how can I thank you? I mean, you’re giving me something you hold dear.”
The old woman smiled and leaned over. “As I said, you need it more than an elderly lady like myself. Just think of this as a gift from your guardian angel.” With one final smile and a gentle nod, she disembarked, and the bus started up, again. Curiously, Buffy opened the tiny box and gasped, more tears flooding her eyes and pouring down her face.
Buffy set her jaw with determination; it was better this way. Leaving the country would put a barrier between herself and her friends...and they would feel no more pain.
* * *
Library
The storm which had brewed earlier in the afternoon had died down, finally. Everyone had lost the will to speak, for talking only brought around more tears. Each person had a ominous feeling of what that letter probably said, and they dreaded Mrs. Summers’ appearance. However, come she must, and a little before dusk, Joyce walked slowly through the double doors of the library. “Um, I...hello,” she whispered, eyes cast down.
When she picked up head up, she was greeted by the somber faces of all of Buffy’s closest friends, people she had trusted with her destiny. Tears rolled down her pale face as she said, “I guess you are all in on this Slayer thing, so you probably know what she was doing last night. I just...I cant believe my little one had to face one of the strongest *vampires* in the world.”
Oz nodded and sighed. “Yeah, add to that she loved him and you’ve got a whole mess of...bad...stuff.” Eyeing him peculiarly, Mrs. Summers asked, “I’m sorry, young man, I don’t know you, but...what did you just say?”
Glancing around the room in panic, Oz said, “I, uh, you-you don’t know about the thing where Buffy and...oh shit.” Giles walked out of his office where he had retreated after his breakdown in front of the teenagers. “Um, yes, Oz. I-I do believe that would sum your erratum justly...shit.” Eyebrow raised, Cordelia leaned over to Willow and whispered, “So, I’m guessing that erratum is an actual word? I mean, it’s in the dictionary and everything?” With a shake of his head at this display, the Watcher turned to Joyce. “Please, Mrs. Summers, er, Joyce...have a seat. This could quite possibly take a while to explain. The one thing left to do is tell you the whole truth about Angel.”
Bitterly, Xander narrowed his eyes at the very thought of his rival for Buffy’s affections. “Yeah. Hey, Mrs. Summers, when Buffy told you she slept with an older guy...did happen to mention *how* much older, did she?” Giles eyes widened in anger as he shouted, “Xander! Thats enough!” Calmer, he said, “I’m sorry, Xander. But one more insensitive remark like that and you can leave. No one is forcing you to be here.” Looking towards his lap, Xander mumbled an apology and began fiddling around with the hem of his shirt. Joyce, an the other hand, sat perfectly still, her face crumpled into an expression of puzzlement, and finally an understanding shock. “Oh my God,” she whispered, as the realization hit her like a wave.
Giles nodded with comprehension of what she must be feeling and sighing deeply, he said “It’s true. Although I don’t believe I would have informed you as eloquently as Alexander, but, um...yes. Angel is, or rather, *was* a vampire, and he is the one that Buffy went to face last night in an attempt to...” Recalling her daughter’s words, Joyce cut in, “...to save the world, again?”
“Precisely.” Trying to explain Buffy and Angel’s relationship more clearly, Willow spoke up for the first time since Giles had delivered the bad news after school. “Mrs. Summers, Buffy loved Angel, and I think Angel loved her more than any of us could ever know.” Looking at Xander, she added, “More than any of us could comprehend.” He scowled. “It was trouble waiting to happen,” he said, although the guilt he felt at being the cause for Buffy’s fleeing was still gnawing at his mind. For a moment, the room was silent until Joyce commanded simply, “Tell me more.”
A sad smile accompanied Giles first words. “I can understand how you must feel. When we first learned of Angel’s, uh...lifestyle, to put it gently, we were quite flummoxed. Buffy had feelings for him even back then, which was a little over a year ago. Needless to say, she had a fairly big problem to contend with. Was he truly on our side? Should she slay him? Obviously, I was in favor of her doing her duty, as was Xander, I’d imagine.” Shrugging his shoulders, the teen in question said, “Yep. I was all for the killing thing. Dust in the ashtray, final night, eternal sleep...*caput* was what I was rooting for.”
This garnered a strange look from the librarian before he addressed him. “Yes, well, um, thank for your input, Mr. Harris. For it is on occasions few and far between that we hear you sing of your loathing for some one who as saved your ass more times than you could ever know.” Xander slummed in his chair and tried to focus on what was going on instead of his ever present dislike of Buffy’s vampire lover. Turning back to Joyce, Giles said, “Forgive me. As I was about to say, Buffy wanted him alive until the night you landed in the hospital. The girl that said she stopped by the tutor your daughter in history...
“Darla,” Joyce supplied. “Y-yes, um, Darla- she was the one who attacked you.” Disgust filled her eyes. “You mean to tell me that a vampire drank my...-I’m not going to be turned into one, will I?” Hurriedly, Giles said, “No, no. Although it was Darla that changed Angel in the first place, she didn’t go through with the process. Anyhow, she made you unconscious, then framed Angel to make it look like he’d hurt you, thereby making Buffy want to kill him.” Still in shock, Joyce mumbled, “He seemed so nice the first time I met him.”
Giles smiled. “He was. To make a long story short...” Under his breath, Oz whispered to his girlfriend, “There’s a first.” Glancing at the couple, the Watcher repeated himself. “To make a long story short, Angel was cursed with a soul for his crimes against a gypsy clan. He lived in solitude for almost a century until showing up in Sunnydale to aid the Slayer, who turned out to be your daughter. After we learned his secret, Angel killed Darla for Buffy and stayed out of her way for a while. Their relationship became progressively stronger until her birthday when they...when they h-had...no. When the two of them...” The rest of the rooms occupants said in unison, “Slept together?”
Embarrassed, he said, “Yes, um, I apologize. When they slept together, the curse was removed. As it turns out, a clause of the original curse stated that Angel’s soul would remain with him until he found happiness. The consummation of their relationship was the trigger to eliminate the curse, and so the demon Angelus was born again into Angels body. For the next several months, he tormented Buffy, taunting their night together and informing you of that particular night, as well. That, and h-he killed Jenny...Ms. Calendar for attempting to translate the curse which h-had been lost for a long while.”
Breaking up, he put his head into his hands, and Willow took that as her cue to finish the legend Buffy and Angel had left upon the Slayer world. “This went on until a few days ago when she and I found the disk with the ritual to bring Angel back on it. I tried the whole chanting thing, but a bunch of vamps came and wreaked it. Oh, a-and they killed the other Slayer...which Giles can tell you about later, ‘cause its not of the importance, right now.” Xander nodded. “Yeah, so these baddies trashed the library, and us with it, before taking Giles and leaving the mess for Buffy to find. The police came...”
“...and bored everyone to tears. God, can’t you people ever just simplify things? Always with the long discussions! Just cut to the damn chase!” Cordelia said, exasperated with the group. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Giles opened them and chided her. “Watch the language, please, Cordelia...although you have a point. The jest of the last few days is when Buffy went to stop Angelus from bringing forth a demon that would surely absorb the entire world into Hell, Willow tried the curse, again. She told Xander to tell Buffy about it, and thats all we know. Acathla is currently dormant, but there as been hide nor head of either Slayer or vampire since then.”
Joyce sat cradling her face in her sweaty palms. “My poor baby...” she would whisper every now and then, until she reached into her purse. “I, um...this letter is alot more clear to me, now. I-It says...God this is difficult...” As Joyce adjusted the paper, everyone imagined it was Buffy sitting there, and it was her voice they all heard reading to them her final thoughts.
“Dear Mom,
I can’t tell you how sorry I am for never telling you about the Slaying deal. I just couldn’t...it would have gotten you killed. I know you were mad at me last night, and I swear to you I’m not angry with you. As for being with Angel, it was the best thing that has ever happened to be. Unfortunately, it was also the biggest mistake of my life, and there are too many souls than I could ever imagine who are paying for that one lousy decision. And then there’s last night...I saved the world, again, Mom. Tell Giles Acathla is dormant, once more. But...that’s all I can tell you. I can’t begin to think about I’ve done, let alone write the words on paper, so I’ll say only this: I...I cant go on living here; theres too many memories. Im leaving, Mom. I have to. I dont know if I can ever come back, but you’ll hear from me again, I promise. In my top drawer, there’s stack of letters. Go to the library and give them to Giles and the others. I wrote them a while back; they’re my good-byes to all of them. I love you, Mom, now and always. Goodbye, Buffy Summers, Slayer”
Placing the letter on the wooden table, Joyce sniffled. Everyone else was following suit as Buffys mother dug for a pile of envelopes. “I’m not exactly sure when she did all this, but, um...here. The paper on top of them said not to open them until you were alone.” They all opened their hands to receive the letters until only one remained. The name written on the front read, “My Angel”. Not knowing what to do with it, Giles excepted it and thoughtfully examined it. “We, uh...we-we could bring Angel back. If what I believe Buffy was inferring is correct, then she was forced to seal the vortex with the sword through his heart. As you all know, metal doesn’t kill vampires.” Curiously, Cordelia asked, And you’re point would be that hes still alive and we could raise him?” Off of Giles’ impressed nod, she cried, “’Yes!I’m lucky-guess girl!” Pausing, she said sneering, “Urgh. I’m spending entirely too much time with you people...Xand, what’s wrong?” Her boyfriend had put his head down on the table the moment Giles had mentioned getting Angel back, and now his shoulders appearing to be heaving with tears.
Upon hearing Cordelia’s question, Xander’s head shot up, eyes red and puffy. “God, Giles, no more of this shit. Why don’t you all understand that he deserves to rot in Hell for what he’s done? I hope he’s in pain. I hope he knows the torment he put everyone, especially Buffy, in for the past several months.” With a disappointed glare, Giles responded, “I thought you were bigger than this, Xander. At any rate, I think your desire is unwarranted; Angel is no doubt suffering terribly.” Pausing briefly to clear his mind, he continued, “I doubt we’ll ever know whether or not the curse worked before Buffy had to slay Angel, but um, my guess is that once we revive him, the curse will be in place. Willow d-did say she believed it to be successful...Well, um, w-why don’t we meet back here tomorrow evening? I believe I have a way to bring him back. I just need to check some sources to first. Willow?”
Nodding, she replied, “Sure. Me and Oz...um, no, t-that’s with the bad English... *Oz and I* will stay and help you with the research thing,” Oz grinned. “Yeah, no prob. By the end of the week, Hell boy will be...not...Hell boy. Am I the only one confused by that?” As the rest of the group filed out slowly, Xander walked briskly to the door scowling at the prospect of bringing Angel back and muttered to himself, “Whoopdee friggin doo.”
* * *
The soft, flickering light of a single candle illuminated the otherwise inky black chamber. Shadows played against the walls in maniacal motions, dancing to the rhythm of the swaying flame. They came upon two figures lying peacefully in the bed, crimson silk sheets bathing their bodies. As the creatures dashed without a sound across his face, Spike sighed, as best a vampire could, and the foul smell of smoke filled him. Smiling, he realized that not even the memory of the bloody Watcher sending the place into flames could deter the exhilarating feeling running within him of being completely free of Angelus. The basterd was probably burning in hell, right now, if the worlds existence had anything to say about it. It served him right, trying to make off with his Dru every time his wheelchair was turned. Laughing to himself about the simplicity of his life, Spike took great pleasure in the knowledge that once night fell, he and Drusilla would be on their own. No more Slayer to butt heads with, no doubt thanks to his sire, no more Sunnyhell, and most importantly...no Angel. His grin grew wider as he wondered who had done it, who had put the blade through Angelus heart. Had the Slayer actually done something worth while, or had that teenage hormone infested Xander come back and kill him?
He mentally shrugged the question off. It didn’t matter to him...not anymore. Now, Spike had his dark temptress all to himself, and that’s all he cared about. The daze he had been in lifted as he felt Drusilla stir beside him. Spike watched as she raised her pale arms behind her and stretched, groaning as she moved her aching muscles. Suddenly, her eyes flew open and she began to laugh crazily, as she tended to do quite often. Drusilla turned to her lover and spoke, still giggling wickedly. “She won’t expect it, my sweet. But we’ll have her where we want her.” She continued to laugh, rolling onto her back at the same time. Slowly, Spike supported himself on one elbow and leaned over to caress her face. The laughter ceased, and in its place were gentle gasps as his nails dragged across her soft skin. Loving that his ministrations had this effect on her, again, Spike smiled softly at his angel. Immediately, he chided himself. ‘Urgh. If I *ever* compare her to that son of a bitch again, I swear I’ll beat my bloody self up...’ Then, curious as to what her latest vision had told her, Spike asked, “Pet, what did you dreams tell you? What did their whispers speak in to your ears?”
When she didn’t respond, Spike tried a different approach. Leaning over her, he pressed his mouth to hers in a gentle kiss. He pulled at her lower lip, begging her to share with him what she knew. Speaking against her lips, he whispered, “Come on, then. Let Daddy into your world.” Drusilla pulled away and sat up in bed, Spike joining her. Staring off into the distance, she finally said, “The Slayer...she killed my Angel, and yet, he lives. He suffers in Hell, and she walks the earth. But, she is leaving the entrance to where he dwells right now.” Intrigued, he asked, “Where is she going, love? What will she do?” Drusilla laughed. “She’s confused in her mind, but clear in her heart. The Slayer is returning to the beginning, back to where Angel was brought into our way.
Realization swept over Spike. “The bitch is going to Ireland? God, what a sentimental softie. Sucker for the ‘ole full circle thing, huh?” Removing the sheets from her body, Drusilla left the bed, her negligie clinging to her. It looked out of place with the child-like pout that was spread on her face as she retrieved Miss Edith from the floor. “Spike, can we go find ‘er? Make my seeings come true?”
Wanting to please her, but also wanting to stay the hell out of the Slayers way, he responded, “Dru...that might not...” He drifted off at the look written upon her face. Standing up, he joined her besides the bed. “Alright, love. We’ll find us a nice plane headed towards Angel’s homeland. We’ll hitch a ride in the cargo hold, again. Would that be acceptable?” She nodded and danced around the tiny room. “Yes, my Spike. The Slayer will be so glad to see us. She wants to die.” Spinning to a stop in front of him, she continued, darkly. “Can I kill her, Spike? Can I let her blood wash in me, and her power fuel my visions?” He laughed and pulled her close. “Anything, baby, anything.” Moaning a little as her tongue worked on his cool chest, Spike smiled at the notion of killing Buffy Summers. Then they could return to the Hellmouth, and God how its flames would burn every last crevice in this bloody town.
|
|
|
|
Rave
Barbie Girl (Becca)
biscuit07
Filmtheory (Jim)
Malice (Jess)
MebbtheScribe (MichaelB)
Reset (Allie)
Shay (Marrisa)
somnambulist29 (Shea)
Stephanie Loss
Wendyness (Wendy)
Questions?Contact Us
|
|
All stories on this site have been archived with the authors' consent. Do not copy these stories for your own uses without the express consent of the author themselves. Buffy the Vampire Slayer TM and Angel TM are © UPN, WB, Fox and its related entities. All photos on the site are © UPN, Fox, Warner Bros, and/or their respective owners. No profits are being made by use of these images.
Powered with the assitance of eFiction.
|
|
|
