"If I Should Die Before I Wake"
by Gaius Petronius
DISCLAIMER:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all the characters that appear on
the show are the exclusive property of Joss Whedon, the WB, Fox
and Mutant Enemy, Inc. I only borrow them, mess with their heads,
make them cry and, every once in a while, torture them. I do lay
claim to the character of Johannes Martel since he is the central
character in an original novel I've been working on now for too
many years.
Spoilers and Summary:
BtVS season two. Originally drafted in spring 1998 in script format, pre-Becoming. In this sequel to Carpe Diem, the young seventeenth century telekinetic, Johannes Martel, is brought back from death by Drusilla. But the reanimation has failed to restore any trace of his soul. With no memories or sense of good or evil, Buffy's new love is only an empty shell of his former self.
As Drusilla channels Jonathan's knowledge and telekinetic powers for her own evil purposes, Buffy and and the Scoobies must launch a rescue effort to prevent Jonathan from unwittingly re-opening the Hellmouth. Again, Buffy must choose. Will she keep the shadow of her love alive risking the safety of the world, or will she break the spell and release his spirit, never to return?
Rating: PG for violence and language."
* * * * * * * *
"But in the grey of the morning,
My mind becomes confused
Between the dead and the sleeping
And the road that I must choose."
The Moody Blues, "Question," 1970
* * * * * * * *
"Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take."
Anonymous child's prayer
* * * * * * * *
Chapter 13 - Oops!
Buffy slipped deftly between the graves. The pitch darkness in
the cemetery held her progress down to a fast walk but her vision
from years of experience could easily differentiate the whirl
of shadows from their sources. She aimed for the old north crypt
entrance whose tunnels led to the Master's Chamber. She knew exactly
what she would have to do when she arrived there. Her face was
stern and set. As she approached a familiar monument, she stopped
for just a moment and glanced down at the stone.
"Rest easy," the Slayer said softly to the grave
of Jenny Calendar, "I won't let them hurt him. I promise."
Quickly, Buffy resumed her march in the direction of the crypt,
leaving Jenny Calendar's stone like a lonely sentinel in the darkness.
* * * * *
Cordelia was finally finished cheerleading practice. Dressed
in full regalia complete with pom poms, she headed across the
school parking lot towards her red convertible. The minute she
found a decent mirror, she'd have to do something about the "glow."
She could feel the sweat trickling down her forehead and the spreading
wet patch in the center of her blouse. Dreading being caught in
such an undignified condition, she shook her head in disgust and
hurried towards her convertible. At the same time, Willow burst
out the front door and ran frantically after her down the school
front steps to the parking lot.
"Cordelia! Wait!"
Out of breath, she caught up with the head cheerleader.
"What's wrong with you?" Cordelia said with disdain,
"Although the disheveled look is kind of becoming in a funky
sort of way."
"Buffy's gone after Drusilla!" Willow exclaimed,
ignoring the insult, "She's going to the Master's Chamber
under the old north crypt!"
"Hey, whatever low life she hangs out with is her own
business."
"No!" Willow shouted, trying to regain Cordelia's
limited attention span, "The vampires have got Giles and
Xander! Drusilla's going to sacrifice them to reopen the Hellmouth!
Cut their throats!"
"What? Xander!?" Cordelia cried out in a panic.
"Listen! Get Oz! He's playing at the Bronze. I'm going
ahead to help Buffy! Meet me at the crypt!"
Willow spun away from Cordelia and ran off towards the cemetery.
"Wait!" Cordelia called after her in complete confusion,
"Where is this crypt? I only hang out at the mall!"
"Oz knows!" Willow yelled over her shoulder as she
disappeared into the darkness.
"He would!" Cordelia muttered. Suddenly her thought
processes kicked in again.
" . . .Oh . . My . . God! Xander!"
Cordelia sprinted to her convertible and, instead of opening
the door, leaped over into the driver's seat. She threw the car
into reverse and backed wildly out, smashing into another parked
car. There was a loud crunch followed by the blare of an auto
alarm as the impact took out part of the rear bumpers and the
tail lights on both vehicles.
"Oops!"
Cordelia slammed her convertible into first gear and punched
the accelerator. The eight cylinder muscle car, relishing Cordelia's
heavy foot, burned rubber and peeled out of the parking lot towards
the Bronze. The rest of the cheerleading squad, swarming through
the front door and down the steps, watched in bewilderment. The
alarm on the other damaged vehicle howled in protest into the
night.
* * * * *
Stealthily, Buffy entered the edge of the clearing before the
old north crypt. There was little light from the stars overhead
and the distant street lamps. She could sense no one was there.
A faint breeze rustled the bushes and trees. The Slayer stopped
and glanced around, her eyes finally resting on the spot where
the vision of Johannes Martel had last stood.
"Jonathan . . . Jonathan . . . are you here?" she
asked almost in a whisper.
There was no reply, only the soft rustling of leaves and branches.
"Well, whether you are or not . . ." she continued
firmly as if committed to making her final confession, "I
just want to tell you . . . I'm sorry for all the pain I caused
you . . . and what I have to do tonight . . . You see, if I can't
stop Drusilla, then I'll have to . . ."
She couldn't finish the sentence. She still saw his face, his
smile and those blue eyes that shown so brightly, partly because
his eyebrows and hair were a rich walnut brown. She could hear
him sitting across from her as they both talked at the Bronze
just three weeks ago. They had told each other their deepest secrets
and their frustrations at their prospective "callings"
over which neither hand any control. And they had shared their
fears that their lives would be violent and short. Buffy remembered
well the look on his face that silently told her he knew his end
was less than twenty-four hours away.
And she wouldn't accept that.
Later that night she had cast everything to the wind, taken
the chance and seized the day as they exchanged a first kiss on
her front porch. Their lips had barely touched, brushing softly
back and forth over and over against each other as they drank
in deeply their shared life breath. She remembered relishing the
feel of his muscled arms around her waist the next day in the
library when Giles had locked the door and left them alone together
for several hours.
She had to stop. The memories were too fresh, the sensations
and feelings too real, too intense, too close. If she didn't,
she knew she wouldn't be able to do what she "had to do,"
as Jonathan had so often told her. Buffy looked down, shut her
eyes briefly, then stared up at the steps on the crypt.
"You know I love you . . . " she whispered as she
prayed her voice could somehow reach across the Gulf of Death
separating them, "I never wanted it to come to this . . .
But you see, I'm not going to make the same mistake with you I
made with Angel . . . Please say you understand . . . and forgive
me."
At first there was no reply. The clearing remained shrouded
in darkness. She strained every fiber of her Slayer's senses,
searching for some faint response. The minutes passed. As she
was about to turn and climb the stairs to the crypt doorway, her
whole body felt a warm sensation that wrapped around her and caused
the tenseness of her muscles to briefly relax. Something warm
brushed against the skin of her face like someone's cheek quietly
settling in beside hers in a shared moment in the darkness together.
Just as quickly it was gone.
Buffy waited a moment but there was still no sound except the
rustling of the leaves above her. She understood. She had her
answer. Now determined, the Slayer turned, strode out fully into
the clearing and mounted the steps to the entrance to the Master's
Chamber. She then took a deep breath, gripped the crossbow tighter,
and marched in. She would do what she had to do.
* * * * *
At the Bronze, Dingoes were on stage and in full gig mode.
The dance floor was packed with gently swaying couples as the
band played a slow song. The lead singer caressed the microphone,
stroking its long length and whispering her lyrics into the mouthpiece.
Oz, standing towards the front of the stage, played delicate riff
after riff on his lead guitar. Suddenly Cordelia, still in her
full cheerleader outfit, ran in from the side of the stage towards
Oz and whispered urgently in his ear. He gave her a look as if
she were something he was trying to avoid on the sidewalk. Both
began arguing under their breaths so that neither could be heard
clearly over the music.
"Now, Oz!"
"Is this for real? You want me to ditch out on a gig?!"
Cordelia, never one for extended logical exchanges, particularly
had no patience for discussion this evening. She calmly switched
off Oz's amplifier. The rest of the band and the lead singer glanced
around, slightly puzzled by the invasion of the Bronze stage by
the Sunnydale High cheerleading squad, but kept on playing. Calmly,
Cordelia unhooked Oz's guitar shoulder strap, took his electric
guitar out of his hands and gently placed it against his amp.
Without warning, she grabbed him fiercely by the hair and dragged
him struggling off stage. His yells pierced through the music
of the band and caused the eyes of several dreamy couples on the
dance floor to open ever so slightly.
"Ooowww!"
* * * * *
Willow ran wildly through the cemetery, searching for Buffy.
Unused to the dim light, she stumbled against stones and finally
tripped, falling hard on the ground. She slowly sat up, the wind
knocked out of her and held her stomach. She swayed back and forth
struggling to catch her breath.
"Come on Willow, girl, you can't stop now!"
Willow staggered to her feet but fought to keep her balance
as she felt the cemetery spin in her head.
"Oohh! I think I'm gonna barf! . . ." she said out
loud to herself, "No, Willow. You can do that later. Buffy
needs you now. Run feet!"
Marshaling all her strength and gagging just a little, Willow
tottered off between the headstones.
* * * * *
Oz's van cruised down the avenue that surrounded the cemetery.
Squinting as he drove, he searched for an open space to park.
Impatiently, Cordelia fidgeted in the front passenger's seat.
The curbs up both sides of the street were packed with cars. As
far as could be seen, there was no place to park or even pull
up.
"You know, you didn't have to yank that hard!" Oz
complained, rubbing his scalp.
"I'm used to dealing with Xander," Cordelia replied
tersely.
"Oh. . . . Where the hell did all these cars come from?
Must be a concert at the Arena. The crypt is in there somewhere."
Oz pointed up in the darkness past an entrance gate.
"I'll drop you off, stash the van and be right back."
"Like Hell You Will!" Cordelia protested, "You're
not leaving me here alone!"
"It'll just take a second!" Oz tried to be reassuring.
"No Way! There! There's a place!"
Cordelia indicated an open spot in front of a fire hydrant.
"I can't park there. I'll get towed!"
"Oh yeah! Like the cemetery's really gonna burn down!"
"I got too many tickets already. One more and I'll . .
."
"Pull in you twerp!" Cordelia snarled as she yanked
the wheel towards the open space. The van careened up on the curb
with a jolt, just missing the hydrant. Cordelia leaped out and
ran for the cemetery entrance with Oz right behind. Both disappeared
into the darkness. A moment later Cordelia's voice rang out of
the night.
"You idiot! Where the hell are the clubs?! Go get 'em!"
Oz scrambled out of the darkness towards the side door of the
van, opened it and grabbed two wooden clubs from Giles' weapons
stash. He then scurried back and disappeared into the cemetery
the way he had come. From somewhere out of sight Cordelia's voice
cut like a razor.
"Sheesh! You're worse than Xander!"
* * * * *
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