Title: Beyond The Darkness
Author: Settiai
Disclaimer: "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," "Angel," and other related characters are all properties of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and other related corporations. No infringement is intended. This story, such as it is, was written as a sign of respect and love for the characters, the show, and their creator. I claim no ownership of the aforementioned show and characters.
Rating: R
Summary: The world may be dying, but they still have reasons to keep on living.
Feedback: Comments and helpful criticisms are always appreciated.
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Just a few short years ago, Willow would have found it strange to once again have a man for a lover. Especially when said lover was Riley Finn, the former boyfriend of her best…
No, she didn't need to think about that.
Quickly pushing aside the melancholy thoughts that had sprang up in her mind, the red-haired woman slowly ran a finger over Riley's bare chest. His eyes immediately flickered open at the touch, and she grinned at him. "Morning," she said softly as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.
Riley smiled slightly, the dark scar that ran across the right side of his face becoming less noticeable as he did. Without saying a word, he leaned down and roughly pressed his lips against hers. Not even pretending to fight back, Willow let her body relax as his mouth moved away from her lips and slowly began a downward trek. His hands, rough from years of demon fighting, cupped around her breast for a moment before he pressed his body against hers, drawing a quiet moan from Willow.
A devilish twinkle in her eyes, she began to twist her body into a better position. Before she had a chance to maneuver herself into the pose she was trying for, however, Riley abruptly pulled away. Puzzlement shining in her eyes, Willow quickly pulled herself into a sitting position, unconsciously pulling the tattered covers up over her bare chest as he rolled out of bed and grabbed the pants that he had discarded on the floor the night before.
"What are you doing?" she whispered.
He jerked his head toward the front of their tent, and as Willow followed his gaze she immediately noticed the shadow of someone standing on the other side of the cloth. Sighing quietly as she pulled the blanket up a little further, she hid her discomfort well as Riley walked over to the doorway and pulled aside the cloth that separated them from the outside world.
A well-built man in his early thirties stood there, a crossbow handing at his right side and a dangerous-looking gun at his left. There was a grim expression on his face, identical to the one worn by most of the survivors, but the light in his eyes gave Willow a slight sliver of hope.
Attempting to keep her voice firm and indifferent, Willow spoke up before Riley had a chance to say anything. "What's the news, Graham?"
His mouth twitched a few times, and the barest hint of a smile made its way onto his face. For just an instant -- in Willow's eyes, at least -- the years seemed to fade away, and she was a young college girl meeting Riley and his friends for the first time. Then she blinked and the young Graham of the past was once again replaced by the older, war-scarred man of the present.
As if reading her thoughts, Riley gave Willow a sympathetic look before glancing back in Graham's direction. With an almost imperceptible nod, he motioned for his friend to answer the question.
"We found some more survivors," Graham said quietly, his voice low and gravelly due to the scar marred the side of his throat. "They mentioned a group of warriors who came through several days ago… three men and two women."
Willow felt her breath catch in her throat, and she could barely contain her excitement as she glanced in Riley's direction. For the first time in months, she seemed to truly come alive. Hope shone in her eyes, and her grip on the thin blanket tightened considerably as she spoke again.
"Do you think it's really them?" she asked breathlessly.
Riley slowly nodded, the hint of a smile making its way onto his face. As he glanced at Graham, however, it seemed to freeze. The expression on the other man's face had darkened slightly, and Riley knew from past experience that his friend was trying to hide something.
Someone had died.
Quickly positioning himself in front of Willow, Riley turned and gave her a quick kiss. "I hope so," he said softly as he pulled away. "Now, you get dressed and get some breakfast while I go talk with a few of the men. We'll probably be moving out soon."
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As they made their way to the edge of the small campsite, Riley finally glanced over at Graham. His voice held a hint of sadness as he quietly spoke, yet it was still steady and commanding.
"Was it really them?" he asked.
Graham's gaze moved upward so that he met Riley's unwaveringly. "One of the men was older, somewhere in his late fifties. They said he spoke with a British accent."
"That would be Rupert Giles," Riley said with a slight nod, though he kept his face expressionless.
"Another one of the men was in his mid-to-late twenties, with light-colored hair," Graham continued on. "They said he was able to control some of the demons."
"Andrew Wells," Riley said softly.
Graham coughed slightly, his hand unconsciously moving up to rub his injured throat. "The youngest was a girl in her early twenties. Dark hair, fairly tall…"
An unreadable expression flashed in Riley's eyes for just an instant as he whispered a single name. "Dawn."
Before Graham had a chance to speak again, Riley softly broke in. "And the last two fit Robin and Faith Wood's descriptions?"
The other man nodded, but there was a troubled look on his face as he did so. "The descriptions the survivors gave seemed to fit," he said slowly.
Riley longed to ask his friend what was wrong, but his duties as leader pressed themselves to the front. "You keep mentioning these survivors," he said after a moment or two. "How many are there?"
"There were over fifty people still there before the demons found them," Graham said bitterly, and the dark look in his eyes seemed to suddenly grow by leaps and bounds. "The poor bastards never had a chance though."
Although he could surmise how many had survived, Riley still felt compelled to ask. "Graham, how many?"
"Six," the other man said angrily. "Six out of fifty-seven."
Riley bit back the stream of curses that sprang up in his throat, and he managed to let one word escape his lips. "Shit."
For a moment or two, neither man said a word. Then Riley glanced over at Graham, an unreadable expression on his face. "We both know what you're trying not to say, so you might as well just tell me," he said dejectedly. "Which one of them didn't make it?"
The other man shifted uncomfortably as he avoided Riley's gaze. "Rupert Giles," he said reluctantly. "One of the survivors was a Slayer. He was trying to convince her to leave with them, and he never even saw the demon that got him."
Riley's eyes closed automatically as a wave of pain rushed through him. After a few seconds, Graham hesitantly reached over and laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "When you tell Willow, do me a favor," he said softly. "Be careful."
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Willow sat on a stump beside the now-dismantled tent that she and Riley shared, her eyes drifting over the quickly disappearing campsite. The ragtag group of soldiers, former civilians, and benevolent demons hurried around busily, mixing in with the small groups of survivors that they had found over the last few weeks.
A sad smile made its way onto her face as she caught sight of Riley coming her way, and she quickly reached up to wipe away the tears that were welling up in her eyes. She forced herself to remain calm and collected as he came closer, but she knew that she was going to have to struggle to stay in control.
"I saw Graham's face," she said matter-of-factly as he stepped up to where she sat. "Who was it?"
The expression on Riley's face clearly told her that he hadn't planned on telling her the whole truth, but after a few seconds he shook his head and made his way to her side. "Are you sure you want to know?" he asked gently.
"No," she replied calmly, "but I still want you to tell me."
Shaking his head, Riley waited a few seconds before he finally answered her. "It was Giles," he said lightly.
A strangled cry escaped her lips, but Willow managed to hold back her tears. Her eyes reddened slightly while her hair seemed to darken, and for just a moment the world around them seemed to become eerily silent. The gentle wind that had been blowing constantly for the last three weeks suddenly died, leaving the entire campsite jarringly still.
There was a worried expression on Riley's face as he gently reached out to touch Willow's arm, but it faded as she suddenly glanced up at him. Her eyes had faded back to their normal color, and the black streaks in her hair disappeared almost instantly.
"None of them are dead," she said quietly. "Not really."
"What do you mean by that?" Riley asked as he leaned down and gently wrapped his arms around her.
Willow smiled as a confused expression appeared on his face. "While we're alive, they're alive," she explained gently. "As long as someone's out there fighting the good fight, then none of them are truly gone."
"And when there isn't anyone left to fight?" Riley asked cynically.
She merely shrugged before standing up and glancing around them once more. "Let's just worry about today," she said softly, her hand reaching down to rub the almost unnoticeable bulge of her stomach. "The future will see to itself."
