The Gift Of Death
Authors: Kelsey Nagel and Vicky Mills
Disclaimer: No sadly we don't own any of the characters on Buffy or Angel. If we did the guys would all wear leather… too bad we don't. Joss and all those people like that own them.
Author's Note: It's been what… a year or so since we wrote together? ::nod from Kelsey:: wow… been awhile. What we figured out? We make angsty or funny fics.. nothing in between. We're weird ::another nod from Kelsey::
Author's Note 2: If you've read the Gatekeeper's Trilogy (GREAT books by the way) some of the things in this will make more sense. You don't HAVE to have read it by any means, but it would be helpful if you had. All will hopefully be explained well anyway though. J
Rating: PG-13 - R eventually. You know Spike will cuss sometime in here
Synopsis: Buffy dies. Angel mourns. Something odd happens. We don't want to give it away just yet.
Spoilers: The Gift and There's No Place Like Plrtz Glrb
Dedication: To all the turtles and ducks in the world.
Feedback: give us it. We CRAVE it. Send to pisces748@excite.com (Kelsey) or Stargoddess109@aol.com (Vicky)
Distribution: Go wherever. Tell us where. Well smile.
Part One
Her body lay sprawled on the wooden planks. They looked on unbelieving, as no breath came from her lungs, and no heart beat in her chest. In that moment they knew, knew that she wouldn't rise, that they wouldn't even get a chance to say goodbye, because she was already gone. Even though they waited, wanting, hoping, and praying that she'd sit up, she never did, and they fell apart.
Willow and Tara attempted to continue standing, holding each other up, gripping each other for dear life, but their legs wouldn't allow it, and they collapsed to the concrete. Willow's eyes snapped shut as she forced herself to look away from her best friend's body. Turning to Tara she buried her face in her shoulder, tears coming relentlessly. Though devastated herself, Tara set to trying her best to comfort Willow. She whispered soothing words, and ran her hand through her hair, even though she knew nothing she did could calm her down.
Xander held Anya in his arms, denying the truth. She was Buffy. Super Slayer. There was no way she could be dead. It couldn't happen. He'd always imagined her becoming a retired slayer and living out her days telling Xander and Willow about 'that time they killed the chaos demon' or 'when Angel went all evil'. But now that she was dead that would never happen. And everything he had ever hoped for shattered. She'd given her life so that they could live. And Xander regretted her decision.
As Xander held her, she looked on not really realizing what had happened. The only real death she had ever dealt with was Joyce, and even that was hard to understand. She saw Willow and Tara fall and could tell that Xander was crying too. She felt the wetness on her clothes. But she still didn't understand. Yeah.. slayers died. But this was Buffy. There was something different about her. She was going to get up and make all of them laugh and make fun of them for crying. Tell them all it was just a joke. But it never happened.
It had arrived. Even though it had been almost 3 years since he'd been taken away as Buffy's watcher, he still considered so. And she did too and he knew that. And as much as he'd hoped against this moment, it was here. And he had to deal. He walked over and kneeled beside Willow, laying a hand on her shoulder and cradled her head in his lap as Tara rubbed her back. It was clear she was going to take it the worst of all and he had always believed it wrong for a man to show his emotions in front of a woman. He'd been taught it. He believed it. But that didn't mean he could stop himself. He wept along with her, his knees burning with the cold of the concrete.
At first, as he stumbled forward with the others, he'd thought maybe it was the robot lying there, or if it was really Buffy, she was just unconscious and would wake any second. But as he fell to his knees, he listened. There was no heartbeat to be heard. He stared, wide eyed, her chest wasn't rising and falling like it should. Then it hit him, Buffy was dead. His Slayer, the woman he had just recently realized he loved, was gone. And not Drusilla gone; Buffy wasn't ever going to come back. His hands came to his face as the sobs wracked his body. He was overcome with guilt. If he'd saved Dawn like he was supposed to, Buffy wouldn't have died. He felt like he'd failed her. The last thing he'd done was fail her, and she died because of it. If he hadn't been so distraught he would have just killed himself right then and there.
Dawn pressed her hand to her stomach as she made her way down the stairs. Trying vainly to tell herself that Buffy would be fine, that when she got to the bottom she'd run up and hug her. The site that greeted her was so much worse. Everyone she cared about was on the ground, and she was surprised she hadn't heard their desperate cries before. Then she looked to her left, falling to her knees when she saw her sister's body. The tears stung the corners of her eyes and ran down her cheeks like sheets of rain. She'd killed her sister. If she would have pleaded more, told her that it was her destiny and there was nothing to get out of it. Maybe she would have understood if she had said destiny. She'd dealt with it her whole life. Buffy would have understood. But she'd been too scared to talk. She hadn't said it, and for that reason her sister was lying dead and all her friends were crying their eyes out. She was afraid to confront them, afraid of what they'd say to her. She thought maybe they'd yell at her and blame her for everything that went wrong, if she'd done what she was supposed to, Buffy would be alive. She didn't even look up when she'd heard Giles walk over, sniffling, as he looked down at her. But when he'd dropped to his knees beside her and pulled her into his arms, she knew that she's been wrong. She wasn't to blame, and there was nothing she could have done. They weren't mad at her, they were grieving just as much as she was.
Willow had been the one to think of Angel in all this. And being the only one who didn't hold a grudge against him, she was to be the one to tell him. She made it to the new address that Angel had sent them months ago in record time. It'd already been a day, and she felt that he deserved to be told as quickly as possible. When she rushed in the doors she called out, "Angel!?" Willow waited a minute but got no response. At first she was worried that he'd moved again, but he walked around seeing signs that he was definitely still there. So she resolutely sat in on the couch in the lobby, waiting for their return. Luckily it didn't take too long for her to see Cordy, Wesley, and Angel coming to the door with someone she didn't know. Angel led the way, "There's no place like-" He saw her finally. Saw her stand up, her shoulders square, her eyes missing that shine that used to be there. 'Willow?" He said, quizzically. He was confused, but in an instant he knew. "It's Buffy." Willow nodded slowly. Angel looked around. Everything was blurry. His vision… his mind… it was all moving to fast for him. He closed his eyes and brought his hands up to his ears, closing out the sound. He always figured that if Buffy died the world would end for him, that he would just drop dead in that instant. Like their souls were bonded and if she went, so did he. But obviously it wasn't like that. Instead he was left here to fend for himself, grieve for all he was worth, deal with the fact that he was alone and would never smell her hair, or feel her skin, or look at her face again. Ever. She was gone. And in that second… so was a part of him.
He didn't feel himself fall, but he knew he had. The wind rushed up around him and before he knew it Cordelia and Wesley were there, holding his hands and trying to console him. Cordy was having a hard enough time as it was herself, so when Willow wrapped her arms around the girl, she went to them openly, letting herself cry. Willow had cried enough as it was, but still a tear slid down her cheek. She angrily wiped it away, telling herself that Buffy would hate her crying. Angel hadn't opened his eyes. Suddenly, almost fast as lightening, he stood up, startling Wesley. "Who." It wasn't a question so much as a demand, flung at Willow, to be answered. "Glory." Willow answered, looking at him as she rubbed Cordy's back and tried to ease her crying. "I'll kill her." Angel said, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He couldn't stop moving. He figured that if he stopped moving a part of him would be giving in to the feeling of walking outside and waiting for the sun to rise. "She's already dead." The notion struck Angel hard. The thing that had killed his one true love was avenged, but it didn't make him feel better. Nothing could. He sunk to his knees again and like the family they were everyone, even Gunn, joined in a circle on the floor. Each thinking something different, without the slightest notion that plans were being set at that very moment to right this wrong. This wrong that caused the people who saved the earth many times over such grief. The wrong that would soon be righted.
Authors: Kelsey Nagel and Vicky Mills
Disclaimer: No sadly we don't own any of the characters on Buffy or Angel. If we did the guys would all wear leather… too bad we don't. Joss and all those people like that own them.
Author's Note: It's been what… a year or so since we wrote together? ::nod from Kelsey:: wow… been awhile. What we figured out? We make angsty or funny fics.. nothing in between. We're weird ::another nod from Kelsey::
Author's Note 2: If you've read the Gatekeeper's Trilogy (GREAT books by the way) some of the things in this will make more sense. You don't HAVE to have read it by any means, but it would be helpful if you had. All will hopefully be explained well anyway though. J
Rating: PG-13 - R eventually. You know Spike will cuss sometime in here
Synopsis: Buffy dies. Angel mourns. Something odd happens. We don't want to give it away just yet.
Spoilers: The Gift and There's No Place Like Plrtz Glrb
Dedication: To all the turtles and ducks in the world.
Feedback: give us it. We CRAVE it. Send to pisces748@excite.com (Kelsey) or Stargoddess109@aol.com (Vicky)
Distribution: Go wherever. Tell us where. Well smile.
Part One
Her body lay sprawled on the wooden planks. They looked on unbelieving, as no breath came from her lungs, and no heart beat in her chest. In that moment they knew, knew that she wouldn't rise, that they wouldn't even get a chance to say goodbye, because she was already gone. Even though they waited, wanting, hoping, and praying that she'd sit up, she never did, and they fell apart.
Willow and Tara attempted to continue standing, holding each other up, gripping each other for dear life, but their legs wouldn't allow it, and they collapsed to the concrete. Willow's eyes snapped shut as she forced herself to look away from her best friend's body. Turning to Tara she buried her face in her shoulder, tears coming relentlessly. Though devastated herself, Tara set to trying her best to comfort Willow. She whispered soothing words, and ran her hand through her hair, even though she knew nothing she did could calm her down.
Xander held Anya in his arms, denying the truth. She was Buffy. Super Slayer. There was no way she could be dead. It couldn't happen. He'd always imagined her becoming a retired slayer and living out her days telling Xander and Willow about 'that time they killed the chaos demon' or 'when Angel went all evil'. But now that she was dead that would never happen. And everything he had ever hoped for shattered. She'd given her life so that they could live. And Xander regretted her decision.
As Xander held her, she looked on not really realizing what had happened. The only real death she had ever dealt with was Joyce, and even that was hard to understand. She saw Willow and Tara fall and could tell that Xander was crying too. She felt the wetness on her clothes. But she still didn't understand. Yeah.. slayers died. But this was Buffy. There was something different about her. She was going to get up and make all of them laugh and make fun of them for crying. Tell them all it was just a joke. But it never happened.
It had arrived. Even though it had been almost 3 years since he'd been taken away as Buffy's watcher, he still considered so. And she did too and he knew that. And as much as he'd hoped against this moment, it was here. And he had to deal. He walked over and kneeled beside Willow, laying a hand on her shoulder and cradled her head in his lap as Tara rubbed her back. It was clear she was going to take it the worst of all and he had always believed it wrong for a man to show his emotions in front of a woman. He'd been taught it. He believed it. But that didn't mean he could stop himself. He wept along with her, his knees burning with the cold of the concrete.
At first, as he stumbled forward with the others, he'd thought maybe it was the robot lying there, or if it was really Buffy, she was just unconscious and would wake any second. But as he fell to his knees, he listened. There was no heartbeat to be heard. He stared, wide eyed, her chest wasn't rising and falling like it should. Then it hit him, Buffy was dead. His Slayer, the woman he had just recently realized he loved, was gone. And not Drusilla gone; Buffy wasn't ever going to come back. His hands came to his face as the sobs wracked his body. He was overcome with guilt. If he'd saved Dawn like he was supposed to, Buffy wouldn't have died. He felt like he'd failed her. The last thing he'd done was fail her, and she died because of it. If he hadn't been so distraught he would have just killed himself right then and there.
Dawn pressed her hand to her stomach as she made her way down the stairs. Trying vainly to tell herself that Buffy would be fine, that when she got to the bottom she'd run up and hug her. The site that greeted her was so much worse. Everyone she cared about was on the ground, and she was surprised she hadn't heard their desperate cries before. Then she looked to her left, falling to her knees when she saw her sister's body. The tears stung the corners of her eyes and ran down her cheeks like sheets of rain. She'd killed her sister. If she would have pleaded more, told her that it was her destiny and there was nothing to get out of it. Maybe she would have understood if she had said destiny. She'd dealt with it her whole life. Buffy would have understood. But she'd been too scared to talk. She hadn't said it, and for that reason her sister was lying dead and all her friends were crying their eyes out. She was afraid to confront them, afraid of what they'd say to her. She thought maybe they'd yell at her and blame her for everything that went wrong, if she'd done what she was supposed to, Buffy would be alive. She didn't even look up when she'd heard Giles walk over, sniffling, as he looked down at her. But when he'd dropped to his knees beside her and pulled her into his arms, she knew that she's been wrong. She wasn't to blame, and there was nothing she could have done. They weren't mad at her, they were grieving just as much as she was.
Willow had been the one to think of Angel in all this. And being the only one who didn't hold a grudge against him, she was to be the one to tell him. She made it to the new address that Angel had sent them months ago in record time. It'd already been a day, and she felt that he deserved to be told as quickly as possible. When she rushed in the doors she called out, "Angel!?" Willow waited a minute but got no response. At first she was worried that he'd moved again, but he walked around seeing signs that he was definitely still there. So she resolutely sat in on the couch in the lobby, waiting for their return. Luckily it didn't take too long for her to see Cordy, Wesley, and Angel coming to the door with someone she didn't know. Angel led the way, "There's no place like-" He saw her finally. Saw her stand up, her shoulders square, her eyes missing that shine that used to be there. 'Willow?" He said, quizzically. He was confused, but in an instant he knew. "It's Buffy." Willow nodded slowly. Angel looked around. Everything was blurry. His vision… his mind… it was all moving to fast for him. He closed his eyes and brought his hands up to his ears, closing out the sound. He always figured that if Buffy died the world would end for him, that he would just drop dead in that instant. Like their souls were bonded and if she went, so did he. But obviously it wasn't like that. Instead he was left here to fend for himself, grieve for all he was worth, deal with the fact that he was alone and would never smell her hair, or feel her skin, or look at her face again. Ever. She was gone. And in that second… so was a part of him.
He didn't feel himself fall, but he knew he had. The wind rushed up around him and before he knew it Cordelia and Wesley were there, holding his hands and trying to console him. Cordy was having a hard enough time as it was herself, so when Willow wrapped her arms around the girl, she went to them openly, letting herself cry. Willow had cried enough as it was, but still a tear slid down her cheek. She angrily wiped it away, telling herself that Buffy would hate her crying. Angel hadn't opened his eyes. Suddenly, almost fast as lightening, he stood up, startling Wesley. "Who." It wasn't a question so much as a demand, flung at Willow, to be answered. "Glory." Willow answered, looking at him as she rubbed Cordy's back and tried to ease her crying. "I'll kill her." Angel said, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He couldn't stop moving. He figured that if he stopped moving a part of him would be giving in to the feeling of walking outside and waiting for the sun to rise. "She's already dead." The notion struck Angel hard. The thing that had killed his one true love was avenged, but it didn't make him feel better. Nothing could. He sunk to his knees again and like the family they were everyone, even Gunn, joined in a circle on the floor. Each thinking something different, without the slightest notion that plans were being set at that very moment to right this wrong. This wrong that caused the people who saved the earth many times over such grief. The wrong that would soon be righted.