Two Parts Make a Soul
Buffy the Vampire Slayer Fan Fiction
Robert B. Hazelton
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all the characters common to the show or novels are property of Joss Whedon. They are used without permission for the non-profit enjoyment of fans of the series. The author makes no claims of ownership whatsoever.
Why did it always seem so damn cold in the graveyard? Was there some preternatural correlation between temperature and dead bodies? Well that was certainly an overly esoteric thought. Perhaps she had been spending too much time alone in dismal places just like the cemetery. That was her life... her destiny as it was so irritatingly made obvious to her time and again. Yes, the same argument was starting to get dull but so was not having a life.
The circular nature of the complaint forced a sigh from her, and she gripped the sharpened wooden stake in her left hand more tightly. How many strange things had to happen to her and her friends before it would end? Was that a fair question to ask? Could thousands of years of mischief ever be summed up by the actions of a few? If not actions, what about belief? Yeah, that was likely to happen sometime soon... After three full years of nearly constant supernatural conflict, there was little to no chance that anyone could believe things would ever be 'normal' in Sunnydale—let alone the whole world.
A sound off to the left broke her thoughts and she paused in her stride, glancing sideways at an especially dilapidated crypt. The doors were slightly ajar, chunks of the two stone pillars lying before them like offered sacrifices. Whistling through the nearby trees, the wind seemed to pick up and rustle her hair. In that moment, someone emerged from the crypt as if materializing out of the shadows.
He was taller than she was, perhaps by a full foot. That fact was made more ominous by the black tuxedo he wore for his funeral and the stunning pale features contrasted eerily with the dark of his attire and environment. His hair was neatly combed still though the make up was mostly wiped off. Fangs were present over his lower lip and his eyes burning in the feral hunger of a wild beast beneath the crinkled, angry brow of the demon that lived in his body.
Nothing about the situation should have alarmed her—it was just another vampire after all. However, something gave her pause. For one, he was walking, quite calmly, in her direction, like those movie psychos that no matter how fast you run, their leisurely stroll allowed them to get the drop on you. The sensation of wild bloodlust was there—she could feel that—but the wicked calmness gave her the wiggins. Something was rotten in Denmark.
"That's a refreshing approach," She said, trying to alleviate her growing anxiety with a bit of levity. "Most of you guys like to jump around and snarl a lot. Did ya wake up on the wrong side of the coffin?"
The statement made him stop and in that moment, she found some comfort. At least he wasn't an undead automaton. She wasn't sure why that bothered her so much but it really did. Perhaps this was all becoming too routine for her. Hell, if all they had to do was change up their tactics, then she was in serious trouble. So much for 'getting used to it'.
"When I woke up," His voice surprised her. He spoke slowly and deliberately but what was unusual was the control. It was familiar, as though he was in command of more faculties than the typical vampire. "There was a brief moment of wild fury and I wanted to give into it... but something held me back..."
"Wow... A poster child for self control." Buffy prepared the stake. "So why don't ya stroll on over here and dig those teeth into something fresh? C'mon, I know you're dying for a drop."
A genuinely evil smile twisted his expression and that, even more than his 'demon face' conveyed that he was truly no longer human. "I'd be glad to." He dove forward and with a deep breath of relief, Buffy shifted gears into slayer mode.
The first few moments were paradise—not that she enjoyed violence but all that fear, all the concern and anxiety faded away. Fully in her environment, she excelled... or at least had no questions of confidence. She was good at what she did and as she blocked a punch aimed at her face and retorted with a circle kick that landed on the side of his head, she knew that perhaps destiny wasn't something that one always had to cherish to appreciate.
He pushed himself up with some effort. The blow that knocked him to the ground was the first to land home. She dodged the others and managed a few parries. How the hell was she so good? If only he wasn't newly reborn... Something inherent told him that she was dangerous—beyond the sharp pointy death clasped in her hand. Why did he know about her? Like memories flooding out of a foggy mind, he suddenly knew the woman he was fighting: she was the Slayer.
But he'd never heard of any 'Slayer' when he was alive... Of course that was before the other occupant took up shop in his body. Something else came to mind too: he shouldn't be there. In fact, his body should have been the shell for the thing within him and all vestiges of his former self should have been swept away. So much for theories. What was going on? Both he and his demon side were terribly confused—a factor that weighed heavily on the conflict going on around his beleaguered thoughts. In a word, he was losing... but more accurately, he was getting his ass kicked.
She had connected with a half dozen punches to various parts of his head and chest. Those were followed by a fierce side kick that launched him from his feet and though she was obviously inflicting harm, he was too distracted to put up the appropriate fight. That was new. Usually, getting beaten on made vampires angrier but he seemed to simply get... more confused.
Buffy decided to try for a quick staking but his hands caught her wrist, the point gently teasing the tender flesh that separated her attack from his messy, dusty death. They struggled back and forth for a moment, him trying to push her back and she trying to plunge it all the way in when finally he fell backwards and vaulted her over him.
She felt weightless for just a moment, the world spinning out of control and then it all stopped when she landed face down in the grass. It didn't hurt so much as irritate her. That was a rookie mistake and she knew it. Rolling over, she was just barely in time to block a kick with her own foot, trying to injure his shin in the process. The counter attack didn't seem to faze him and he lunged downward to plant a blow to her stomach.
There was no getting out of the way in time so she prepared herself to deflect the attack as best she could. It never came. With a groan of surprise, the vampire was tossed away from her, landing on his back some twenty yards away. He stood and stared in shock then bolted off between two headstones into the night.
Buffy looked at her 'savior' with a few choice words on the tip of her tongue but stopped abruptly in surprise. He wasn't very tall, even from her vantage she could tell they'd be eye to eye on even ground. His face held a youthful innocence that spotted him at not much older than her. Dark hair was tussled and he was breathing heavily.
"Are you alright?" He asked while extending his hand to help her up.
Buffy accepted his help and hoisted herself up. "Yeah, I'm fine." She couldn't help but fit a little resentment into her tone. "Do you know what that guy was?"
"Mugger was my first thought," He said. "Though it looked like he might be trying to graduate to murderer."
"Yeah, and right now he's out there picking his classes."
His eyes fell to the sharpened stake in her hand. "You... were you trying to kill him?"
Buffy looked at the stake then back to him, blushing. "It's a really long story with a whole lot of stuff that you probably wouldn't believe but—wait a minute." She blinked. "How'd you play 'guy ball' with him anyways?"
"Pardon?"
"You really hurled him off of me. How'd you do that? It's rare to never that someone wanders by a cemetery at night in Sunnydale—rarer still that they aren't up to something. Who are you?"
"I was happening by—"He sighed and shook his head. "My name's Zachary. That story that's too long to tell? I think I'd believe more of it than you know. I'm here because of the Hell Mouth. I'm assuming you know what that is?"
"That thing must be on the brochure right next to the slogan 'highest mortality rate on the west coast'." Buffy shook her head in wonder. "What do you want with the Hell Mouth?"
"I'm... my parents sent me to help someone but..." His face crinkled in concentration. "I'm not sure who. All I know is that this place—and the Mouth itself—are the keys. How do you know about this stuff? I doubt vampire slaying was the latest article in Cosmo."
"Cute," Buffy rolled her eyes. "I'm the Slayer."
"The Slayer? The 'one girl in all the world' Slayer?"
"Yep. Buffy Summers at your service." She looked around again. "So what's the deal with this saving thing? I don't think you were sent to save me..."
"No, the rescue I'm here for is a little less immediate a threat. Something long term." He shrugged.
"How do you plan on going about it? How'd you throw that guy like that? What's up with your parents sending you here like that?"
"My parents—my whole family... well, it's complicated and I guess that the explanation really depends on your school of thought."
"How about the school of laymen's terms?"
"I can do magic."
"Wow, that was pretty laymen."
"That's the simplest explanation. I could get into the process of configuring reality and how to regress the consciousness to a state of perfect calm and clarity but one I don't think we have time and two it's a pretty dry subject... not to mention we're standing in a freezing graveyard and you're starting to shiver."
"Yeah, what is it with cemeteries and cold anyway? We're still in California, right?"
"I think there's some kind of supernatural connection between dead bodies and temperature." Zach shrugged as they started toward the gate. "But hey, what was with that guy you were fighting? Took me a moment to close the distance between us and he seemed pretty good. Is that how all your conflicts go?"
"Most of the time there's less me being thrown and more them being turned into a bad seventies song."
Zachary paused as they approached the gate and glanced back over his shoulder.
"What is it?" Buffy asked. Her senses were typically uncanny but she didn't hear or see anything to cause alarm.
"Nothing," He said at length. "It's just not natural. This place—it's been abused for so long."
"That's Sunnydale. Lair of vampires, demons and breasts... we run the full gamut of unnatural occurrences."
"At least you keep your humor about it."
"There's not really much choice, ya know?" Buffy shrugged. "I'm not much in the habit of discussing this kind of thing with strangers—even ones that thought they were saving my life and especially when they tell me they're here about the hell mouth on my watch."
They arrived at the gate and Zachary motioned for her to go through first. Immediately, the temperature seemed to increase back up to the balmy seventy she was accustomed to. With a sigh of relief, she turned to continue her conversation but her companion was gone—there was nothing but the ajar cast iron gate and the brooding gravestones beyond. While there were a number of explanations that she could think of right away she was more inclined to believe the obvious, Sunnydale variety: Zachary had disappeared into thin air.
The first three periods were a blur for Buffy and as she made her way toward the library, she tried to recall the details of the lectures. Unfortunately, Zachary's bizarre disappearance kept coming back to her. She had taken a quick turn back around the cemetery—a much warmer cemetery she mentally grumbled—and found nothing. There was no way he could've fled like that. He had to have disappeared.
She wondered what kind of theories were going to come up about the occurrence. More pressing than that or Zachary was what happened to the Vampire. Sure, they came in all kinds but there was something inherently different about him—something on a supernatural level that made her worry but didn't give her answers. Those were her favorite kind of warnings; the type that were completely useless to any but a stress enthusiast looking for a fix of masochism.
The library held its typical warmth for a place she spent the majority of her free time plotting the demise of demons and trying to save the world from eternal darkness. She could smell the books before she was even half way through the lobby; a sensation that was both nostalgic and repulsive to her. What a life for a nearly eighteen year old senior.
Xander and Willow were already hanging out, the former leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling while the latter was absorbed in a book. Buffy paused for a moment to be thankful for her friends. In a world of the totally bizarre, she at least had a few people that she could always look to for support. As a teenager, it was rare to have such a thing at all let alone two that accepted the strangest set of life circumstances she could lay claim to.
"Hey, Buffster." Xander said without taking his attention away from whatever had his eyes glazing over.
"Hey," Buffy sat down heavily, surprised at her fatigue.
"How was patrol?" Willow asked in her 'ever peppy' tone.
Buffy shrugged. "Some bizarre-o vamp and a guy who can disappear into thin air. You know, the usual."
"Did I hear something about someone disappearing?" Giles came from his office with his 'down to business' stride, carrying a heap of text books which he deposited on the table.
"This brand new vamp came out of a crypt (one I figure he was buried in) and he was weird. There was something about him that I can't place but anyway, we fought and this guy came along and helped out."
"Did the guy know he was dealing with a blood sucker from beyond the grave?" Xander asked, tilting his head.
"Xander, I wish you wouldn't abuse the chairs with your boredom." Giles glared.
Xander dropped the chair down and lifted a hand in silent apology.
"Yeah, he did though he tried to play it off at first." Buffy shrugged. "I guess he thought I was a helpless maiden."
"Don't remind us about 'helpless maiden Buffy'." Willow said.
"You know, we could start a line of action figures." Xander said.
"Anyway," Giles tried to head off the tangent. "What happened next?"
"The vampire got away and, after a little chat the guy disappeared—of course when I wasn't looking." Buffy turned to Xander and Willow. "Why is it that if someone's going to disappear they always do it when you're not looking? They wait til your back's turned or your eyes are closed or you're in the other room and POOF!"
"Buffy," Giles sighed. "What did you talk about?"
"Sorry," Buffy shrugged. "He knew about the hell mouth. His parents sent him here to rescue someone and he said he can do magic but hey, who comes to Sunnydale without that little trick anymore huh? Kind of passé if you think about it."
"Hmm." Giles sat down in though.
"Hmm is never a good word." Buffy said.
"No, it foretells of all things doom." Xander nodded ominously.
"It's a little scary that Giles can make something so simple so scary." Willow said.
"I'm sorry," Giles shook his head. "Magic could allow one to do something so dramatic as disappear but being able to do so without even making a sound would be an extraordinary accomplishment. The sorcerer would have to be incredibly skillful."
"He looked like he wasn't much older than us." Buffy shrugged. "Not that appearances mean much anymore."
"Can you think of anything else about the vampire?" Giles asked.
"He was real deliberate... you know, like one of those sound tracks that force you to lean toward the screen for that stupid cheap jump they're going to take from you?" Everyone stared at her. "What? Don't try to tell me that I'm the only one that trick fools."
"Just marveling at the comparison, Buff." Xander said but before he could extrapolate, Giles cleared his throat.
"Did he say anything?" Willow asked.
"Yeah, something about holding back the fury. I don't know," Buffy shrugged. "I was busy goading him into a fight."
"Holding back the fury?" Giles frowned. "It's obviously suspicious that a sorcerer happens to be in the park at the same time as this strange vampire. The first priority of course is making sure that no one gets hurt but we need to find a connection if it does indeed exist."
"Did you get a name or anything?" Willow asked.
"Just his first: Zachary."
"That's not going to help a search much." Willow frowned.
"Yeah, I know." Buffy shrugged. "Sue me for not thinking he was going to disappear."
"Maybe we should go stake out the cemetery again." Xander paused. "Not that I'm anxious to go hang out in a graveyard all afternoon or... that was a bad pun, wasn't it...."
"He might come here too," Willow offered. "If he's after the ol' mystical hoo ha."
"We need to know why he's interested in the hell mouth," Giles said. "Rescuing someone is too ambiguous. Unfortunately, there are too many unknown factors right now and there's not a whole lot we can do with the clues we have. I suggest that we be patient and see what happens next."
"Bah, 'be patient and see what happens next' is just another way of saying that you sanction boredom as an Olympic sport." Xander said with confidence.
"Really, Xander and do you have some brilliant insight that we should be pursuing?" Giles clearly had enough for the moment. "Or are you simply spitting out another of your perverse aphorisms spawned from too much radiation from your television set?"
"A vampire's gotta eat right? After a round with the Slayer, you know that he went looking for something juicy." Xander looked at everyone in turn. "I say we find the vampire and move on from there."
"He's got a point." Buffy shrugged. "The sooner we find the vamp, the sooner we can be sure that no one gets hurt."
"Very well," Giles nodded. "I agree with you. However, be careful. There's something larger at work here and we need more information to find out what. Report back as soon as you find anything. I'll look into the subject of teleportation and see what I can discern about our sorcerer friend."
"Right then, I suppose we should get some food—"
"There's one thing we shouldn't forget," Willow interrupted. "This sorcerer guy, he might be involved with the vamp but he did save Buffy." Everyone waited. "That means he can't be all bad... doesn't it?"
"I'm sure he's not bad." Buffy said. "But we don't need him to be tampering with the hell mouth and accidentally opening it."
"Yes, even the best intentions can lead to the worst results unguided." Giles looked solemn. "Either way, let's be sure that we're prepared for whatever's to come. I'll keep you posted with what I find out."
"You coming to the caf, Will?" Buffy asked as she collected herself.
"Nah, I'm going to stay and help Giles for a bit before class. I'll see you guys later."
"I really don't think he was bad, Will. I didn't get any sense of that at all."
"I know," Will gave her a weak smile. "It's just getting hard to differentiate the black from the white, that's all."
Buffy hadn't put it in those exact terms but it was true: the instances of a big bad being cut and dry were becoming few and far between. Even when there was a clear course of action, some little thing made it hard to be clear that the right thing was being done. That was the real challenge: not the slaying or the research but the choices.
And they were getting really hard.