A/N: So this is my version of "Amends", but with a twist. I figure that some things that happen in the other reality probably eventually happen in this reality too, and The First is one of those things. Some dialogue was borrowed from the episode. Enjoy!
EPISODE 3
"From Beneath You, It Devours"
xoxo
Dublin, Ireland
1838
It was Christmas time. The streets were covered with snow, and everyone was dressed warmly as they made their way home that evening.
A carriage passed by, and behind it was a very nervous-looking young man. He quickened his pace as he walked along the street, looking behind him as he was sure he was being followed. He passed a group of carolers singing 'Silent Night', but was too worried to stop and enjoy the show.
The young man approached a store window with several people lingering about. He pushed his way through the crowd, ignoring their complaints, when suddenly, someone grabbed him and pulled him into an alley. He was then tossed down to the ground, landing on the snow-covered cobblestones. He looked up, finally seeing the face of his attacker.
Angelus smiled, looking down on the frightened young man. He wore his game face. "Daniel. Where were you going?"
"You! You're not human."
"Not of late, no."
"Wh-what do you want?"
"Well, it happens that I'm hungry, Daniel, and seeing as that you're somewhat in me debt…"
"Please, I can't!"
"A man playing at cards should have a natural intelligence or a great deal of money, and you're sadly lacking in both."
Daniel attempted to get up, but Angelus grabbed him by the coat before he could flee and growled at him.
"So I take me winnings me own way."
Daniel looked at Angelus, terrified. "The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures…"
"Daniel, be of good cheer. It's Christmas!"
Angelus bared his fangs and sank them into Daniel's neck.
Angel awoke from the dream with a start. For a brief moment, he had thought he was back in Ireland. He sat up, glancing over at the bed. Buffy was still fast asleep, her face illuminated with the glow of the small night light from the bathroom.
Angel relaxed back on his pillow, unable to close his eyes. It was only a dream, and yet, it wasn't. It had really happened, and he swore that it had felt like it was only yesterday…
Buffy sat by the window in her apartment, her cheek against the cold glass as she watched the rain fall. Across the room, the television was on, and the local meteorologist stood by a map of Ohio with Cleveland in the center.
"…now if this storm system moves just a little further south, there's the slight chance we could see some snow, but from the current forecast models, this seems unlikely. And I think for the holiday weekend, the greater Cleveland area is mostly going to see some more rain. So if you're hoping for a white Christmas this year, you might be out of luck…"
Buffy turned the television off with the remote and sighed. The rain was drizzling now, allowing little droplets of rain to stick to the glass before they became too heavy and slid down.
"You okay?"
Angel had been so quiet that Buffy had almost forgotten he was in the same room with her. She turned to him and nodded toward the window. "Why does Cleveland have to be so dreary? Cities by a lake shouldn't be dreary."
Angel pondered her question for a moment, then said, "Well, it is on a hellmouth."
Buffy looked back out the window, watching the gray clouds move across the sky. "Yeah, there is that. My mom and I never liked cold weather, except that we liked the snow. We never got to see it that much. It's kind of rare in southern California, you know? My mom had always wanted a white Christmas. She had hoped we'd finally get to have one here, since you know, it's supposedly snows in the Midwest. But last year, it was just cold. And this year, it's just rain."
They lapsed into silence for a moment or two, Buffy back to watching the rain, Angel back to his book.
"What about you?" Buffy suddenly asked. "Are you okay?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I got up last night to get a glass of water and I saw you tossing and turning on the couch. I thought that maybe you were having a bad dream."
"Yeah, I was."
"Well at least it was only a dream."
Except it wasn't, Angel thought to himself.
Later that evening, the skies had cleared somewhat, and Buffy dodged the puddles as she trudged behind Wesley through the maze of Christmas trees.
"Hey, Wes? You do know that Christmas is only a few days away, right? The mall had their Christmas decorations out before Halloween."
"Yes, well, better late than never," he replied, stopping to inspect one particular tree. "What do you think of this one? Do you think it would look good in the shop?"
Buffy looked the tree up and down. "I don't know. Looks a little too big for the shop. Maybe get a smaller one?"
Wesley nodded. "You're right. Let's keep looking." Wesley walked away from the tree in search to find another.
While Wesley stopped to admire some of the trees sprayed with fake snow, Buffy wandered off and spotted a small, tiny tree tucked away in the corner. "Hey, what about this one?"
Wesley turned and looked down at the small tree. "It's a bit small, don't you think?"
"It's perfect."
"Is that even a tree? Looks more like a bush."
"It's a Charlie Brown tree. It's supposed to be small."
"How about this one?" Wesley suggested, pointing to a tree next to the small one. "I think this one's a good size."
"Charlie Brown trees never get any love."
"Let's find the salesperson."
As they made their way across the lot, a group of brown trees clustered together caught their eye.
"That's weird," Buffy said as she moved to get a closer view.
"Yes, very strange," Wesley agreed.
"Bunch of them up and died on us," said the merchant as he sidled up next to them. "Don't know why. But if you want one, I'll make you a really good deal."
"No, thank you," Wesley said. "Actually, I was thinking about that one over there." Wesley pointed to the tree he had been eyeing.
The merchant nodded. "I'll get it ready for you."
"Oh, and this one too!" Buffy said, running over to the little Charlie Brown tree. She looked at Wesley, giving him a pleading look.
"So, you don't have a tree yet either," Wesley said, raising his eyebrows.
Buffy shrugged and smiled. "Better late than never, right?"
Angel stared at the skinny-looking branch with leaves sitting on the end table. "What is it?"
"It's a Christmas tree!"
Angel gave Buffy a questioning look. "Are you sure?"
"Funny. Funny guy."
"It's the smallest Christmas tree I've ever seen."
"It's supposed to be small. It's a Charlie Brown tree. Besides, I don't exactly have room for anything bigger, so this will have to do. And with a few lights and stuff, it'll look better."
Angel shrugged. "I suppose. It can't look any worse."
Buffy hit him lightly on the arm. "Hey!"
Angel held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, I'll stop insulting the tree! I promise!"
Buffy walked over to the closet and reached for a box on the floor. "Don't you ever get a tree at Christmas?"
Angel shook his head. "No. I'm…not really big on the holidays."
"Oh." Buffy set the box down on the bed and took out a string of tangled lights. "So then, I suppose I can't convince you to help me decorate it, can I?"
"No, I'll help." Angel reached into the box, pulling out a snowman ornament. "I just don't have much tree-decorating experience."
"Don't worry, it's easy. The hardest part is untangling the lights."
Angel held up the ornament. "Are you sure this isn't going to make the tree topple over?"
"Hey! You said you weren't going to insult my tree anymore!"
Angel laughed. "Sorry. But it is a legitimate question."
"Actually, you're probably right. Some of them probably are too heavy. I know the angel certainly is. The tree topper," she explained, holding it up.
A shadow moved across her face, and Angel stopped rifling through the ornaments and stared at her for a moment. "Are you okay?"
Buffy stared at the angel in her hand, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Every year, Mom and I would decorate the tree together. We had two tree toppers. One was a star, and the other was this angel. Depending on how the tree looked determined which one we'd use. Most of the time we used this one."
Buffy carefully placed the angel back into the box.
"I'm sorry. I know you miss your mother."
"This is the first Christmas without her. She would have hated this tree. She always wanted a big one, or one with fake snow." Buffy rummaged through the box and dug out the star. "The star it is then."
She walked the short distance from the bed to the tree and place the star on top. "There, what do you think?"
"I think there's room for improvement."
"Again with the insults!"
Angel held up his hands again. "Sorry. Won't say another word!"
Fifteen minutes later, the tree actually was looking halfway decent.
"See, I told you it would look better with lights."
The tree sparkled with its multicolored lights and ornaments hung on every available branch. On top, the star was illuminated with yellow light.
"Okay, you're right," Angel said, giving in. "It's not a bad looking tree."
Angel looked to Buffy, seeing the warm smile spread across her face. "Do you really mean that? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better about my pathetic little tree?"
Angel laughed. "It's not pathetic. No, it's…endearing."
Buffy laughed with him. "Come on, you know it's sad!"
Angel shrugged. "Yeah well, it does look better with a few lights."
Later that night, Angel tossed and turned on the couch once again.
There was a dinner party that night. The guests, all dressed in formal wear, conversed with each other as they enjoyed the wine and hors d'oeuvre, while underneath the stairs, Angelus talked with a maid.
"Sir, please, I should return to the party."
"Margaret, Margaret, there's no hurry."
Margaret tried to pull away, but Angelus held her tight. "Mistress will be wondering…"
"Shh. Mistress will be wondering how to get the good Reverend Chalmers into bed and will not notice the absence of canape'." Angelus touched her chin. "Stay with me."
Margaret quickly looked over her shoulder. "Sir, people might talk. I'll be put out in the streets. My little boy would…I can't lose this job."
Angelus held her more firmly. "Then you must keep quiet."
"You're hurting me!"
"Ah! Cry out. Call for help. I'm sure Mistress will believe your behavior beyond reproach."
"Please!"
Angelus shook her forcefully. "Come, make a scene, huh? Shall I?"
"No," Margaret squeaked out.
"No, no. We'll be as quiet as mice."
Margaret glanced down for a moment, and when she looked back up at him, her eyes widened at his vampire visage.
"Sir! My son!"
"Oh, he'll make a fine dessert, huh?"
Margaret gasped as Angelus yanked her to him, sinking his fangs into her flesh.
Angel jerked awake, the dream so real he could almost feel the blood on his tongue.
The lunch rush hour was always chaotic at the diner, and with Mandy gone, they were also short-staffed. Buffy walked over to the corner booth where a man and woman sat. She recognized them as regulars though she had only waited on them once.
"Hi, I'm Buffy. I'll be your waitress. Are you guys ready to order or do you need a few minutes?"
"Oh we know what we want," said the woman. "We'll have the usual."
"Where's the other blonde girl?" asked the man. "She always knows what we order."
Buffy felt her throat tighten, but she quickly swallowed the knot. "I'm sorry, but Mandy's not here anymore." She couldn't bring herself to tell them where Mandy really was now.
"Oh, that's a shame," said the woman. "We liked her. Not that we don't like you dear," she quickly added.
"A sweet girl," said the man.
"Yeah, we all miss her too. So, what would you two like?"
Buffy hastily took their orders, squelching the sob in her throat, and made her way to the front. She tucked her pencil behind her ear as she gave the kitchen the couple's order, then turned around. Her heart nearly stopped.
Standing just across the diner was Mandy.
Buffy blinked her eyes, frozen as she stared at the apparition. Surely her eyes were playing tricks on her, but standing just ten feet away from her was definitely Mandy staring back at her. Mandy didn't move, but her eyes were locked on Buffy's.
"This can't be real," Buffy whispered.
One of her fellow waitresses walked past Mandy without blinking an eye. Was she the only one that could see her?!
"BUFFY!"
Buffy jerked to attention and whipped around, seeing Joe towering over her.
"Didn't you hear me? The orders for table #7 are getting cold! Get to work!"
Buffy nodded and grabbed the tray of food. But when she turned around, Mandy was gone.
After her shift, Buffy left the diner in a hurry. All around her, people were hustling about, getting their last minute Christmas shopping done.
At a crosswalk, Buffy stopped and waited for the signal to go. As she stood there, she glanced across the street and her eyes grew wide with shock. Mandy was standing just outside the building across the street.
"Okay, I'm either going crazy, or something weird is going on."
She glanced at the 'don't walk' sign, willing for it to change. Mandy still just stood there, watching her from the distance. It was then that a large truck whooshed past Buffy, spraying muddy water from the puddles on her uniform. Buffy fumed silently at the mess.
When she looked back across the street, Mandy was gone again.
Wesley was decorating the Christmas tree when Buffy barged into the shop.
"What happened to your uniform?" he asked, indicating the mud stains on her clothing.
"Do I feel warm?" Buffy asked, ignoring his question as she marched over to him.
Wesley frowned and placed his hand over her forehead. "No, you don't feel as if you have a fever."
"Well I must be sick, because something is surely wrong with me!"
"What's the matter?"
Buffy pulled the chair out from under the table and sat down. "I see dead people, and not just vampires."
Wesley shook his head in confusion. "I'm not sure I understand."
"I saw Mandy in the diner today."
"Mandy? That poor girl who was killed?"
"Yeah, that's the one."
Wesley put down the Christmas ornaments and joined Buffy at the table. "What do you mean you 'saw her'?"
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Exactly what it means, Wes! I saw her! I was going to the counter and was about to pick up an order when I looked across the room and saw her. She was just standing there looking at me! At first, I thought she was really there, even though that's impossible, but then I realized that I was the only one seeing her. None of the other waitresses noticed. And then Joe started yelling at me and I got distracted, and when I turned back around, she was gone."
"Perhaps you merely saw someone who looked like her."
"No, it was her! I saw her again."
"You saw her twice?"
"When I was walking home, I saw her standing across the street, but then a truck drove by and when it finally passed, she was gone. Wes, what's wrong with me? I've never had a hallucination in my whole life! Am I going crazy?"
"You're not going crazy. And maybe you're not hallucinating. I think I know what's going on."
"Well please enlighten me."
"When I was a young boy, I was friends with a boy who lived down the street. We went to school together, played every afternoon. But then one day his family moved away, and I never got to play with him again. Naturally of course, I missed our times together, and there were several times I thought I saw him. But it always turned out to be someone who merely looked like him."
"Does this amusing little anecdote have a point?"
"What I'm trying to explain is that sometimes, our minds see what we want to see."
"It wasn't someone who looked like her, Wes. It was Mandy!"
"Are you sure?"
Buffy frowned. Now that Wesley had put the doubt in her mind, she wasn't so sure. "I don't know. I guess it could have been someone who looked like her."
"They do say everyone has their double. You certainly do with Beth," Wesley said as he stood up and walked back over to the tree. "You want to help me with this?"
"No."
Wesley turned his focus back to the tree. "Alright then."
"Sorry, but I'm just tired. I think I might go lay down for a while."
Buffy quietly closed her apartment door, seeing that Angel was sleeping on the couch. Buffy decided that he had the right idea. She kicked off her shoes and headed toward the bathroom. Shower first, then sleep. She couldn't relax until she'd completely washed the stench of diner from out of her hair.
Ten minutes later, feeling refreshed and more drowsy than before, Buffy slipped under her duvet and closed her eyes. She felt a chill run down her body, and the wet hair draped across her pillow didn't help much either. Fortunately, the heat finally clicked on, and Buffy drifted off to sleep.
The diner was dark, save for the blinking Christmas lights decorating the windows.
Buffy stepped inside, silently wondering to herself where everybody was. "Hello? Is anyone here?" A shadow towards the back caught her eye and Buffy moved behind the counter to investigate.
"Hey, who's there?"
"It's just me, Buffy."
Buffy whipped around, seeing Mandy sitting on a table across the room.
"M-Mandy? It can't be you. You're dead."
Mandy moved forward so that Buffy could see her. "Yeah, and whose fault is that?"
The words cut like a knife. She'd never heard Mandy speak in that tone of voice. "Mandy, I'm so sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry I couldn't have killed Slasher before—"
"Look what he did to my face!" She inched closer and pointed to the jagged lines across her otherwise unblemished complexion. "I couldn't even have an open casket at the funeral. Mom didn't want anyone to remember me like this!"
"I'll kill him, Mandy. I swear."
"Yeah, well, a lot of good that does me now. I'm dead. I'll never see my little girl grow up. I won't be there to help my mom anymore. And I certainly won't be able to hang out with my friends anymore."
"I'm sorry, Mandy."
"I don't want your apologies. You know, I actually thought we were becoming friends, but I guess not. A true friend would have walked me home, especially a girl who knows what sort of evil lurks out there. You know I'm the only other girl besides you that doesn't have a car or a ride. But no, you couldn't be bothered to have walked me home, could you?"
"I should have walked you home."
"Too late now." Mandy turned around and began to walk away.
"Mandy! Mandy, wait!"
"Wait for what?" Mandy turned around and looked at Buffy. "Wait for you to apologize some more? Tell me that these things happen in life and that you can't save everyone?"
"Mandy, I'm sorry. If I could go back and time and change everything, I would!"
"Why don't you tell that to your mother? Oh wait, that's right, you can't. She's dead too. Couldn't save her either, huh?" Mandy turned on her heel and walked toward the door again.
"Mandy! Please!" Buffy caught up to her and placed her hand on her shoulder, only to realize that she couldn't touch Mandy at all. Seconds later, Mandy walked through the glass door.
"Mandy, I'm sorry! I'm sorry…"
"...I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
"Buffy? Buffy!"
Buffy's eyes snapped open. Angel was hovering over her, and slowly she was realizing it was only a dream.
"You were having a nightmare," Angel said. "You were talking in your sleep. You seemed really upset."
Buffy sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
"That's okay. Who were you apologizing to?"
"It was Mandy. In my dream. She was mad that I didn't save her."
"That wasn't your fault."
"Yes it was. I should have walked Mandy home. She's the only other girl at the diner that walks to work. I shouldn't have let her go by herself. I know what's out there, better than anyone. It's my fault Slasher killed her."
Buffy threw the covers off of her and got out of bed. She reached for a hair elastic and pulled her hair back, then picked up her shoes by the door and began to put them on.
"Where are you going?"
"I just need to get out." Buffy reached for her jacket and purse, and as an afterthought, grabbed her stake from the dresser.
"I'll come with you."
"No. I just need some time to myself."
With that, Buffy left the apartment.
Buffy felt claustrophobic in the store as a dozen shoppers around her shoved and jostled her aside. She normally liked shopping, but with this crowd and Christmas only two days away, it was pure madness. Thank god she had now just finished all of her shopping, which albeit wasn't much, but she was glad to have it over with.
She buttoned her jacket as she headed outside, holding her purchases close to her. She checked her watch, realizing she had a good ten minutes before the bus was due to arrive, and looked around for a bench. Spotting one just a few steps away, Buffy sat down and looked through her purchases. She felt as if she was forgetting someone. Buffy mentally checked her Christmas list to make sure there wasn't anyone she had left out.
It was then that it hit her: She hadn't bought a gift for her mother.
Just thinking of her mother again brought tears to her eyes.
Why don't you tell that to your mother? Oh wait, that's right, you can't. She's dead too. Couldn't save her either, huh?
Buffy tried to push thoughts of her nightmare aside, but no matter how hard she tried to forget it, the thought kept eating at her. She hadn't been able to save her mother. She hadn't been able to save Mandy. What kind of slayer was she if she couldn't even protect those close to her?
A man in a ratty jacket suddenly sat next to her, the stench of alcohol and body odor coming off of him in waves. Buffy gathered her bags and was prepared to wait somewhere else when her heart stopped.
Standing just outside the store was her mother.
With Buffy gone and the apartment quiet, Angel drifted back to sleep. Once again, he tossed and turned.
Candles arranged in a circle illuminated a dark room. Among them on the table, various artifacts were arranged in a ritualistic manner. Around the table, three dark, cloaked figures chanted with their palms placed flat in the center.
Suddenly, one of the hooded figures raised its head, revealing a face with no eyes.
Angel awoke, gasping. He looked around the empty, darkened room, realizing he had been dreaming again. He didn't understand the dream, but he knew whatever it was, he didn't like it.
Buffy ran down the sidewalk, chasing the apparition that seemed to get further and further away.
"Mom!"
Joyce paused as if she had heard her daughter, then continued on her way.
Buffy collided with a gruff looking man, making him spill his coffee. "HEY! Watch where you're going!"
Buffy ran past him, not caring about anything except her mother. "Mom!"
She ran until she came to the end of the sidewalk, then stopped. She looked to the left, then right, but she didn't see her mother anywhere. Buffy sighed and sat down on a bench. What was she doing running after a vision? She knew it couldn't be her mother. Her mother was dead. What was wrong with her?
Buffy knew the answer. She was going crazy. First Mandy, now her mother. She wanted to believe that she wasn't hallucinating, that she merely saw someone who resembled her mother. But no, it couldn't have been. Buffy would have recognized her mother anywhere. It had definitely been her…or at least a vision of her.
Instead of going back to her apartment, Buffy, on a whim, took the bus to her old neighborhood. The wind whipped around Buffy's face as she walked down the familiar street. She hadn't been here for months, but nothing much had changed in the old neighborhood.
The house that she and her mother had once lived in came into view. The "For Sale" sign was still there, not that that surprised her. Even she didn't want to live there.
Buffy wasn't sure what had brought her to the old house, but something deep down inside told her she needed to come. It was time to stop avoiding what had happened. She crossed the small excuse for a yard and took the steps up to the porch. Once there, she peered inside the window. It looked strange to see the place without furniture inside.
Buffy moved away from the porch and headed toward the back of the house. The doors were locked, but Buffy knew a way in. Putting her bags on the ground, Buffy climbed the trellis up to the window of her old room. She steadied herself on the ledge and with her slayer strength, pried the window open, then crawled inside.
The house smelled musty from being closed up for so long. Buffy gazed around her old bedroom, now bare of furniture, and tried to remember happier times here. She could not. She'd always hated Cleveland.
Buffy moved out of the bedroom and into the hallway, past the bathroom with the old, ugly tiling. Past the bedroom with the atrocious wallpaper. She stopped when she came to the master bedroom. She stood in the doorway, peering inside at the room which looked as sad as it looked empty.
"Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy, Buffy…" came an echoed whisper from somewhere in the house. Buffy whipped around and stared down the empty hallway. "Who's there?"
She listened, but heard nothing else.
"Well that's just great, Buffy," she said to herself. "First you're seeing things, then you're hearing voices, and now you're talking to yourself. If that's not crazy, I don't know what is."
Buffy came to the staircase and felt her heart accelerate, debating whether or not to venture downstairs. She winced when she thought of the blood on the floor, the writing on the wall, the laughter of his voice…
"No," Buffy cried, holding her hands over her ears as if she could block out the noise. She quickly sat down on the top step, feeling unsteady on her feet, and began to cry.
Even though Angel had slept for hours, he still felt groggy and tired. He contributed it to the restless sleep he'd been getting the past few nights. So it was no surprise to him that he dozed off on the couch again…
The key clanged against the metal bars, pulling Angel out of a restless sleep. He winced as the sound of the key against metal grated on his nerves, making his head throb even more.
"Bored now."
Angel groaned at the sound of her voice, feeling too weak to do anything about it.
From behind him, he could hear the cell door swinging open, and seconds later, felt her kneeling beside him. Willow turned him on his back and straddled him, a sinister grin on her face. "But the Master said I could play. Hi, Puppy. Did you miss me?"
Angel turned his head away as Willow ran her hand down the front of his shirt, then tore it open, ripping a button in the process.
"You've been very bad. Haven't you, Puppy? And when you're bad, you have to be punished."
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a book of matches. She took one out and lit it, holding it just above him. "That's right, Puppy. Willow's going to make you bark."
She threw the match onto his chest, and Angel cried out in pain. Willow laughed.
"You're not real," Angel said through gritted teeth.
Willow smiled again. "That's what you think. But I am real, and I'm here. Want me to prove it again?" She lit another match and threw it on his chest.
Angel cried out in agony, tears brimming at the corner of his eyes.
Suddenly, Willow grabbed his face and turned it to face her. "You know, it wasn't very nice of you to run off like that. And here I thought we were having such a good time. But no, you had to run off with the Slayer, didn't you? Had to go and stir up trouble like you always do."
"You're dead."
Willow laughed. "So are you. It's fun being one of us, isn't it?"
Angel didn't respond.
"Oh, wait, that's right. You don't like being one of us, do you? No. Puppy has feelings. Human feelings. It makes me sick."
Willow flicked another lit match on his chest and roared with laughter when he cried out again.
"Hmm, you know what I think? I think you like that slayer, don't you? You've only known her a few weeks and already, you want to fall in love with her. Am I right?"
Angel didn't respond. He wasn't about to admit that Willow was right about that.
"Oh, but that's right. Poor Puppy can't act on his feelings. You've got that annoying little curse hanging over your head, don't you? The slayer would make you happy. And we wouldn't want you to get too happy, now would we?"
Her face transformed into that of the Master's. "Or maybe we could use this to our advantage."
The Master changed back to Willow, and a slow smile spread across her lips. "Yes, I think we could use this to our advantage."
Willow leaned forward, her face inches from his. "That's right, Puppy. Go ahead and act on your feelings. Sleep with the slayer. You know you want to try it."
Willow stuck her tongue out and lightly traced a line from his jaw to his ear, but when she pulled away, it was Buffy.
She smiled at him, then leaned forward and kissed him. Angel moved to a sitting position, pulling her into his lap, and her legs circled around him. She tugged at his shirt, and Angel raised his arms so that she could pull it off. Then, Angel slipped the satin pajama top from her shoulders, then reached for her, holding her tightly as they kissed a while longer.
In bed, they were making love. Angel rolled over Buffy. As he kissed her neck, his hand slid up along her arm and he clasped her hand. He moved to kiss her lips, and out of the corner of his eye saw the eyeless priest observing them.
A light flashed, and Angel grabbed Buffy's wrists and pinned her down to the bed. His face transformed into his vampire guise, and while Buffy looked at him with horror, he sank his fangs into her flesh.
Angel awoke with a start, bolting upright. He felt a presence next to him, and turned to see Willow staring at him. She looked different. Translucent. He wasn't dreaming anymore. This he was sure of.
"You want her. So take her."
Angel shook his head. "No. I would never do that."
Willow leaned closer, her face inches from his. "Take her," she whispered. "Take what you want. Be the vampire you were meant to be, and then kill her."
"NO!"
Angel blinked his eyes, and Willow was gone.
The tea kettle whistled on the stove and Wesley rushed over to his small kitchen to grab it. A few minutes later, he had settled in his living room with a hot mug of tea and a book when someone knocked on the door.
"Just a minute." Wesley put his tea cup down and walked over to the door. He peered through the peephole, and seeing that it was Angel, opened the door. "Angel, come in."
Angel nodded and walked into the apartment. "I'm sorry to come over so late." He quickly glanced around the small living space, realizing he had never actually been to Wesley's apartment before. "Nice place by the way."
"Is everything all right?"
"No, something's wrong. Wes, I need your help."
Wesley frowned. "What is it?"
"I've…I've been having these dreams lately. Dreams of the past. It's like I'm living it all over again. It's…it's so vivid. And I just…I don't understand. Something about it feels wrong. I need to understand why."
"Alright then. Perhaps you should tell me what these dreams are about."
Angel opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when he saw the figure step out from behind Wesley.
Willow, in her vampire guise, stared at Wesley and then to looked to Angel. "You could kill him too."
Angel shook his head, trying to shake the vision of Willow, but she was still there. "You're not real."
"Angel? Are you alright?"
Wesley's voice sounded distant as he continued to stare at Willow, who now bared her fangs at Wesley. "He looks absolutely scrumptious, even if he is all stuffy and British."
"Don't you see her, Wes?"
Wesley turned to look behind him, seeing nothing. "See who?"
"I…I can't!" Angel turned around and bolted out the door.
"Angel?" Wesley rushed to the door and peered down the hallway, but Angel was already gone.
Angel had come to a decision. Staying in Cleveland was too dangerous. Not for him, of course, but for others. No, he couldn't stay, not when there was a monster just beneath the surface itching to get out and destroy innocent people.
He was putting his clothes into his duffel bag when he heard footsteps up the stairs. Seconds later, Buffy walked inside.
He stared at her, arms laden with shopping bags, while Buffy's gaze was fixed on the duffel bag sitting on the bed.
"You look like you're going somewhere."
Angel nodded. "That's because I am." Angel headed to the small bathroom and grabbed his shaving kit. When he came out of the room, Buffy was still standing by the door, looking dumbfounded. "Where are you going?"
"Buffy, I've been doing some thinking."
"Okay, that sounds ominous." Buffy put her shopping bags down and sat down on the bed.
Angel placed the shaving kit inside his bag and moved to sit next to her. "About me staying here. I'm starting to think that it's not such a good idea after all."
Buffy frowned. "What do you mean? Is it because I'm a slob? Are you…mad at me or something?"
"What? No, of course not."
"So then what's wrong?"
If Angel had a beating heart, he was sure it'd be pounding out of his chest right about now. "I like you, Buffy. I like you a lot. And that puts us in pretty dangerous territory right now. So I need to leave. I don't want you getting hurt."
"I don't believe you would hurt me."
"I don't want to take that risk."
Angel reached for his bag and zipped it up.
"So you're…really going?"
Angel nodded. "I think it's for the best."
"But I don't want you to go."
Angel looked Buffy in the eye, hating the look of hurt on her face. "I'm sorry."
"What are you so afraid of, Angel?"
"I told you. I like you."
"So? I like you too. But that doesn't mean we're just going to fall into bed with each other. I think we have a little more will power than that."
"But why risk it?"
"I think the other Buffy and Angel do just fine. They're around each other all the time, and they seem to know their limits. If they can do it, so can we. I mean, we are them, you know?"
"You don't want me hanging around, trust me."
"What are you talking about? I like having you around. It sort of makes this place feel a little less lonely. And besides, you're the perfect roommate. You're quiet, you don't snore. You're extremely tidy and actually clean up messes that are mine. And more importantly, you don't steal my food."
"You can't tell me the blood doesn't bother you."
Buffy shrugged. "I'm sort of used to it. Do I look like I get squeamish around blood?"
Angel stared at Buffy staring back at him with a tough girl expression on her face. A slow smile spread across his face. "No."
"Look, if you want to go, I'm not going to stop you. But maybe you could, you know, wait until after Christmas? It's kind of nice to not be alone around the holidays."
"You have Wesley."
"Yeah, but I enjoy your company much better."
Angel stared at his duffel bag, packed and ready to go, then looked at Buffy. Seeing the look in her eyes, he knew he couldn't leave now. "Okay, I'll stay. At least until after Christmas."
A smile spread across her face. "Good, I'm glad."
The next morning, with a small wrapped gift tucked under her arm, Buffy walked to the Scott residence. Buffy pulled a piece of paper out of her purse, double-checking that this was the correct address, and made her way up the porch steps. The porch was scattered with children's toys and was sparsely decorated with a few Christmas lights.
She walked over to the door and knocked just underneath a large wreath. She waited a few moments before hearing footsteps within, and then, a petite fortyish woman answered the door.
"Hi, Mrs. Scott?"
"Yes?"
"I um…I worked with Mandy at the diner. She was such a nice person and she talked about her little girl all of the time. I know that a toy can't ease the pain of the loss of her mother, but I wanted to stop by and give her something."
Mrs. Scott took the present, then gave Buffy a weak smile. "Thank you. That's very generous of you."
Buffy looked down, seeing a miniature version of Mandy standing at her grandmother's feet.
"What's your name?" Mrs. Scott asked.
"Buffy."
She nodded. "I think I remember Mandy talking about you. Heather, this nice girl brought you a Christmas present. What do you say?"
The girl just stared at Buffy with wide eyes.
"Heather's shy," she explained. "And it's been hard since…you know. Please, come in. Maybe you would like a cup of coffee?"
"Oh, thank you, but I can't. I have to get to work. I just wanted to tell you that I'm very sorry for your loss. We're all going to miss her at the diner."
Mrs. Scott smiled, tears forming in her eyes. "Thank you. My Mandy was a good girl. I hope they catch the creep that did this to her."
Buffy nodded, unable to get the image of dead Mandy out of her mind. "Yeah. Me too."
By midday, the apartment was quiet. Angel, unable to sleep, grabbed his shirt from the back of the chair and put it on.
"Trouble sleeping?"
Angel turned around, seeing Willow in front of him.
"You're not here."
Willow moved closer. "I'm always here."
"Leave me alone." Angel moved to the small dining area and sat down at the table.
"I can't. Not until you believe me." Willow moved closer to him. "You could be very happy, you know. If you just give in, you're true self will emerge, and you'll feel so free."
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Angel stood up and grabbed a chair, throwing it at the apparition. The chair sailed straight through her and hit the wall.
Willow looked at the toppled chair on the floor, then turned back to Angel. "Aww, poor Puppy. Life is such a daily struggle, isn't it? What's right? What's wrong?" She stepped forward and circled around him. "It doesn't have to be this way. It could be so simple. Take what you want, and kill the Slayer. You could even make her yours if you want. That might be interesting. A slayer turned vampire?"
The front door suddenly burst open, and Wesley with an alarmed expression stood in the doorway.
"I heard a crash. Is everything alright?"
Angel looked back to Willow, only to realize that she was no longer there.
"Angel? Is everything alright?"
"That was me." Angel picked up the toppled chair and set it right. "I'm sorry. I…I saw someone."
Wesley closed the front door and walked over to Angel. "What do you mean you 'saw someone'? Like in your dreams?"
Angel looked at Wesley, unable to find the words to say.
"Angel, you wanted to tell me something last night. Something is clearly wrong. I'd like to help."
"I don't think you can, Wes." Angel sat back down at the table. Wesley joined him.
"Try me. I have unlimited resources at my disposal. If something is wrong, let me try to figure it out. Tell me what's going on."
Buffy balanced several plates on a tray and tried to remember which table had ordered what. "Did you guys order the cheeseburgers?"
"Yeah, that's us."
"Great." Buffy placed the tray down and handed out the food. "Here you are. My name is Buffy. If there's anything—" Buffy paused as she spotted Mandy, sitting at the counter barstool. She waved at her. Not this again. Buffy blinked and turned her attention back to the customers. "If you need anything else, just let me know."
Mandy wasn't there again when she looked up, and Buffy breathed a sigh of relief.
"Miss, I need a refill," said a man at another table.
Buffy nodded. "More coffee? Sure, coming right up."
She crossed the room and grabbed the coffee pot behind the counter.
"You know, it really hurts to die," Mandy said.
Buffy jumped, not realizing Mandy was standing beside her.
"The pain of the fangs in your throat, the feel of the blood rushing out of your body."
"Stop." Buffy walked away with the coffee in tow. Mandy followed.
Buffy refilled the man's coffee. "Here you are."
"Thank you."
"Oh, that's Mr. Jenkins," Mandy said. "Yeah, he's a regular that used to always sit in my section. Just became a grandpa. He was always nice to me. I think I reminded him of his daughter. He once gave me a twenty dollar tip when I was having a really bad day."
"It's all in your head, Buffy," she said under her breath.
"No, it's not in your head. I'm here."
"Buffy, can you give table #4 a refill?" asked another waitress, currently laden down with a tray of food. "I've got my hands full."
"Sure."
"Oh, it's Tomeka, my girl!" Mandy said as she continued to follow Buffy around. "Yeah, we were friends. We hung out whenever we had the time. Did you know our little girls are both the same age? They'd sometimes play together."
"Who had coffee at this table?" Buffy asked, holding up the pot. She refilled the customer's coffee and took away a plate she was done with.
"So are you just going to ignore me?" Mandy asked as she followed Buffy to the counter. She placed the coffee pot back and headed toward the back to put up the dirty plate and silverware.
"Well certainly you won't ignore me."
Buffy dropped the plate, the sound of shattering ceramic reverberating throughout the diner. Everyone in the kitchen stopped what they were doing to clap, but Buffy was oblivious. She turned around, face to face with her mother.
"You can't be here."
"I'm here, but then again, I'm not really here, am I? Maybe if my daughter had been able to save me, I would be."
Buffy felt her heart pounding in her chest. For so long, she had wanted to see her mother, but the person in front of her wasn't her mother. Was it?
"Why didn't you come home when you were supposed to?"
"I—I didn't mean to be late. Slasher—he held me up. He—"
"Stop making excuses! You had plenty of opportunity to kill him. And yet, he's still alive, isn't he?"
"You gonna clean that mess up today?" Joe said, interrupting their conversation, though oblivious that Buffy was even having one. Buffy nodded and reached for the small broom and handle.
She went to work at cleaning up the broken plate pieces as her mother stood over her and watched.
"I thought you were supposed to avenge my death. Why is he still out there, Buffy?"
Buffy felt tears sting her eyes as she focused on her sweeping.
"Maybe if you had killed him already, I'd still be alive." It was Mandy now.
"Stop this!" Buffy cried as she busied herself with dumping the shards into the trash.
"My own daughter, a vampire slayer." Joyce was now speaking, and she followed Buffy into the diner. "And she couldn't even save me from a vampire."
Buffy hurriedly walked over to one of her tables. "Is everything all right?" she asked the diners.
Merrick turned around to face her, and Buffy's eyes widened. "You couldn't even save me in time, and I was your own watcher."
Buffy walked away, not even hearing the customer's request for some more tea. She attempted to go into the back, but her mother blocked the doorway. "Why couldn't you save me, Buffy?"
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
"What are you apologizing for?" Tomeka asked as she passed her.
"Why don't you tell Tomeka the truth?" Mandy said, appearing behind Tomeka's shoulder. "Tell her that you let poor little Mandy walk home all alone and let the big bad vampire kill her. You know I didn't even get to say goodbye to my daughter?"
"Buffy?" Tomeka asked when Buffy did not respond.
"Don't you see her?"
Tomeka looked around, confused. "See who?"
Mandy vanished, and Buffy felt a tug on her apron. She looked down to see a child she'd never seen before. "Remember that little girl who died in the park? That was me. I was calling for help. Why didn't you come save me?"
"I couldn't! I don't even know who you are!"
"Buffy? Who are you talking to?"
"I gotta get out of here…" Without answering Tomeka, Buffy walked away, only to see a man she had never met before appear in front of her.
"Your buddy Slasher killed me too. Was just doing my job at the museum and he came and slashed my throat. Now my family has to spend Christmas without me."
The figure transformed into her mother again. "Look at all the lives that have been destroyed. All the people you couldn't save. And that's not even all of them."
Buffy turned around, walking past Tomeka as she tried to ignore all of the voices.
"You couldn't save me," said a teenage boy from her high school.
"Or me," said a girl who Buffy recognized as a cashier from the grocery store.
"And you just left me to fend for myself," Mandy said.
"And you couldn't even save your own mother!" Joyce yelled.
Buffy stood against the wall, trapped now. She placed her hands over her ears and closed her eyes. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"
Wesley cracked open a book and perused the table of contents. "I should have thought of this sooner."
Angel looked up from his own book. "Thought of what?"
"There's a number of things that can cause nightmares and hallucinations." Wesley closed the book and reached for another one. "I should have listened to Buffy. You say that the both of you have been having nightmares lately, but what I didn't tell you is that Buffy has also been seeing people."
"She didn't tell me that."
"No, because I brushed it off as her mind playing tricks on her."
"Who did she see?"
"Her coworker, the one who was killed. She told me yesterday that she had seen her. Twice. I convinced her she had probably saw someone who looked like her. I should never have doubted her."
The phone suddenly rang, and Wesley got up to answer it. "The Supernatural Book Shop, can I help you?...Yes, this is he…What's wrong with her?"
Angel looked up in concern, hoping the 'her' wasn't Buffy.
"Yes, of course, I'll be right there to pick her up. Thank you for calling." Wesley hung up the phone and grabbed his jacket.
"Wes, what's wrong?"
"It's Buffy. That was her manager calling. He said she was acting strange. I'm going to pick her up."
"I'd come with you but…" Angel nodded his head toward the window where a beam of sunlight had managed to break through some of the grayness. "What's wrong with her?"
"I'm not exactly sure. He just said she was acting peculiar. Can you watch the shop while I'm gone?"
Angel nodded. "Sure."
"I won't be gone long." With that, Wesley left, and Angel began to brood.
"Where is she?" Wesley asked, ignoring pleasantries as he made his way toward the back of the diner.
"She's back there," a timid, dark-skinned girl said. "I tried to help her but she didn't even seem to hear me."
Wesley spotted Buffy on the floor. Her back was against the wall and her knees were up to her chest. Her arms wrapped around her legs as she rocked back and forth.
"Buffy?" Wesley kneeled down to her level, but Buffy responded with nothing more than a blank expression.
"Buffy, it's Wesley. Tell me what's wrong."
"I couldn't save them," she mumbled. "I couldn't save them."
"Save who?"
"Couldn't save them," she repeated.
Wesley reached for her hand, and when he did, he saw the marks on her arms. Apparently in her frenzied state, she had scratched herself to the point of breaking skin.
He looked up at the waitress who stood nearby. "What's your name?"
"Tomeka."
"Tomeka, bring me a wet wash cloth and a first aid kit."
Tomeka nodded and went to retrieve the items he requested.
Once alone, Wesley turned back to Buffy. "Buffy, tell me what's happening. Are you seeing Mandy again?"
That seemed to get Buffy's attention. "Mandy was here. She was here again."
"You said 'them' before. Who else did you see?"
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "My mom," she squeaked out.
Tomeka then arrived with the wash cloth and first aid kit which Wesley accepted. "Thank you."
"Will she be okay?"
Wesley nodded. "Yes, I think so."
"I have customers." She pointed toward the front. "Feel better, Buffy."
Tomeka left, and Wesley began to rifle around the kit for some bandages. "What did you do to your arms?"
Buffy looked at her arms, noticing the scratch marks for the first time. "I don't know."
"Thank god you didn't rip out your stitches."
Buffy was silent as Wesley cleaned and bandaged up the bleeding scratch marks, then threw the bandage wrappers in a nearby trash can. "Come on, stand up. I'm taking you home." Wesley offered his arm, helping her to her feet.
"Come on," he urged, noticing she was unsteady on her feet. "You can rest at home."
She let Wesley lead her out of the diner, avoiding the stares from the dining customers and wait staff. But when she glanced back, she still saw her mother through the window.
Buffy's skin felt clammy as Angel put her down on the bed. Wesley then wrapped her up under the covers.
Buffy mumbled something incoherently, staring at something that only she could see.
"Was she like this when you picked her up?" Angel asked.
Wesley shook his head. "Somewhat, but I managed to get through to her. She just seems to be getting worse now."
"We need to find out what's doing this this to her," Angel said to him. "Whatever it is…it's evil."
On the table were several books which Angel was looking through, and piles of old, worn sheets of paper that Wesley researched.
"Here, take a look at this." Wesley held up the paper he had been reading. "These letters contain references to an ancient power known as The First."
"First what?"
"Evil. Absolute evil, older than man, than demons. And there's something else." Wesley searched through the pile of papers until he found what he was looking for. "Take a look at this."
Angel took the worn sheet of paper. It was a sketch of the eyeless priest. "These are the guys from my dream."
"I thought so, given the way you described them to me."
"So what are they?"
"They're known as the Bringers, or Harbingers rather. They're high priests of The First. They can conjure spirit manifestations and set them on people, influence them, haunt them. Usually it assumes the form of a deceased individual."
"Let me see that." Angel reached for the paper Wesley had been perusing. "Then that's it. These are the guys behind the dreams Buffy and I have been having. We have to stop them before they do any more harm. Buffy's getting worse."
"But you can't fight The First, Angel. It's not a physical being."
"Yeah, well, I can fight these priests."
"If you can find where they're hiding."
"No ideas on where that could be, huh?"
Wesley shook his head. "I suggest we hit the books."
"Buffy? Buffy…"
Buffy opened her eyes, awake from her restless sleep, and found her mother sitting at the end of the bed.
Buffy bolted upright. "Go away. You're not my real mother."
"Maybe I'm not. Or maybe I am. Either way, there's only one way to get rid of me."
"How?"
"You know."
The image of Joyce faded. Buffy looked around the room, not remembering exactly how she'd gotten back home. She got out of bed and found her shoes on the floor. She quickly slipped them on, reached for her jacket, and walked out of the apartment.
A pile of books lay in the center of the table as Wesley and Angel researched.
Angel read aloud a passage from his book. "'A child shall be born of man and goat and have two heads, and The First shall speak only in riddles…' That's just…disturbing."
"Ahh, here's something finally."
Angel looked up hopefully. "About the priests?"
"Yes. It says, 'From beneath you, it devours. For they are the Harbingers of death. Nothing shall grow above or below them. No seed shall flower, neither in man nor…'" Wesley trailed off, lost in thought. "Nothing shall grow above or below."
"Does that mean something to you?"
"Yes. It's just a hunch, but I think I know exactly where they are."
There was an eerie stillness in the air as Buffy made her way up the trellis. Once at the top, she hoisted herself up onto the ledge and pried the window open. She hurriedly climbed through it.
Inside, the old tree outside her window cast a shadow on the wall, giving the bedroom a nightmarish feel. She remembered those old trees outside her bedroom, and she remembered the yellow eyes staring back at her as Slasher watched her sleep.
She shut the window behind her and stared out at the tree, but no one was there this time.
"Buffy…"
Buffy turned at the sound of her name. The whispering was back. Slowly, Buffy crept into the darkened hallway.
"Who's there?"
No response.
"Answer me!"
There was still no response, nothing except the sound of a tree branch hitting the side of the house.
Buffy came to the top of the stairs and stopped. She hadn't yet been able to bring herself to go downstairs.
"Buffy…"
Holding on to the railing, Buffy took a deep breath and began to descend the stairs. Each step creaked as she slowly made her way down.
"Buffy…"
Downstairs, the streetlight illuminated the room, giving it an eerie blue glow. Buffy took another deep breath, willing her heart to stop racing, and walked to the kitchen. She stood in the doorway, seeing the large pool of blood gather behind the island. And next to it…her mother.
Joyce turned her head and looked straight at Buffy. "Couldn't even count on my own daughter to save me."
Buffy immediately turned and ran out of the room. She ran to the fireplace and sat on the hearth, taking a few moments to catch her breath.
"This isn't real. This is not real and I'm going crazy."
Buffy stood up, determined to prove once and for all that her mother was not there, headed back to the kitchen. Inside, there was no one there. No blood on the floor. No objects strewn about the room. No visions of her mother on the floor. The room was completely bare.
"I replay that scene so many times."
Buffy gasped at the sound of her mother's voice behind her. Slowly, she turned around. Her mother's face was marked with an X with two holes in the side of her neck and a deep gash on the other side.
"It was a slow, agonizing death. And just when I thought the torture would finally end, he gave me some more."
"Mom, I'm so sorry."
"Why couldn't you save me, Buffy?"
"I tried."
"Where were you when that vampire slashed my throat? Where were you when I was bleeding to death on the floor?"
"I—"
"Where were you when I needed you?"
"I'm sorry, Mom."
"Sorry doesn't bring me back."
"Then what do you want from me? I've apologized until I'm blue in the face!"
"I don't think you're worthy of the title of 'slayer'. A slayer is supposed to protect the ones she loves."
"I tried to protect you."
"But not good enough."
"Why are you torturing me like this? I've suffered enough already!"
"So end it," her mother replied casually.
"End it? How can I end it when you won't leave me alone?"
Joyce walked around the room and stopped to look at an object on the floor.
Buffy followed her gaze, realizing the object was a knife.
"End it," Joyce said. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."
"Turn here," Wesley said as Angel slowed the car down and pulled into the Christmas tree lot.
Angel had barely turned the car off when he was already getting out, leaving the door open in his haste. A locked gate blocked his way, and Angel kicked it open without any extra effort and marched toward the circle of dead trees.
He looked to the ground, searching for something to use as a weapon, and spotted an axe. He grabbed it and began to swing it at the ground. After a few hits, the ground below him gave way and Angel fell through the hole, landing on the bottom with a thud.
Down below, Angel looked up from the ground. Candles were everywhere, just like in his dream, and somewhere nearby, he heard chanting voices. Angel got up from the ground and made his way into the recesses of the tunnels. He didn't have to go very far before he spotted the eyeless, hooded priests gathered around the table.
"So you're the guys who've been giving me and Buffy nightmares."
The priests stood up and Angel charged at them with the axe, striking one of them in the stomach. He quickly went down. Angel swung the axe again and struck another one. He doubled over, and Angel struck him again, only this time in the head. Once he was down, Angel turned his attention to the third priest only to see his retreating form as he ran away.
Raising the axe again, Angel aimed for the table and quickly split it in half, the artifacts and candles smashed.
"Hmm, I'm impressed."
Angel paused and slowly turned around, seeing a smiling Willow in front of him.
"You won't get Buffy! You're going to stop haunting us both!"
"You think you can fight me? I'm not a demon. I am something that you can't even conceive. The First. Evil. Beyond sin, beyond death. I am the thing the darkness fears. You'll never see me, but I am everywhere. Every being, every thought, every drop of hate."
"Alright, I get it. You're evil."
"Buffy will be dead by midnight."
"No."
"You have no idea what you're dealing with."
Before his eyes, the apparition of Willow disappeared, and in its place, a huge horned and clawed beast appeared. It came at Angel and roared, eyes glowing red, then faded as quickly as it appeared.
Angel stared in shock for a moment at the place where the First had disappeared. Then, he heard it's voice once more.
"DEAD BY MIDNIGHT!"
Angel ran back to where he had fallen, seeing Wesley at the top of the hole.
"Angel, grab hold!" Wesley yelled, tossing a rope down to him.
Once out of the hole, Angel ran to the car. "We've got to get to Buffy!"
Angel took the steps to the apartment two at a time. Something in his gut knew he needed to get to Buffy fast. He threw open the apartment door, fully expecting to see Buffy in bed, but the bed was empty.
"Buffy!"
He ran to the bathroom and peered inside, but there was no one there. "Buffy!"
"Where is she?" Wesley asked, standing in the doorway.
"She's gone."
"We should have kept a closer eye on her," Angel said to Wesley as he drove away from the bookstore. "Where would she go?"
"I don't know," Wesley said.
"Well you've known her longer than I have. You must know where her hangouts are!"
"I don't think she could have gotten far. Unless…"
Angel came to a red light and reluctantly came to a stop. "Unless what?"
"Mostly she walks wherever she needs to go, but on occasion, she takes the bus."
"Okay, so where's the closest bus stop and where does the bus go to?"
"It goes…to her old neighborhood. I remember! She used to take that bus all the time back before…well before her mother died."
"You said she was seeing her mother? Do you think that's where she is?"
"I don't know. But it's worth a shot. Turn right at this light."
The light finally turned green, and Angel stepped on the gas.
All of the houses on the street looked nearly identical, making it difficult to tell one from another. Finally, Wesley spotted it.
"There it is. On your right. The white house with the 'For Sale' posted."
Angel made a sharp turn into the driveway and had barely put the car in park before throwing the door open. "Let me just see if she's here." He slammed the door behind him, leaving Wes inside with the car running, and ran up to the porch.
The door was locked, but that posed no problem for Angel. He backed up and charged toward the door, kicking it with his right foot, and the door swung open.
"Buffy?" he called out as he ran into the house.
There was no answer, but her scent was overwhelming. She was here.
"Buffy?" he called out again as he walked through the house, peering into the kitchen, then the dining room.
When he opened the bathroom door, he found her. She was sitting on the floor against the tub, her face illuminated by the neighbor's streetlight outside. She looked up and stared at him for a moment, a confused look on her face.
"Angel? What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you. What are you doing here?"
"How did you find me?" she asked, not answering his question.
"Lucky guess." Angel sat down on the edge of the tub beside her. "Thank god you're alright. I was…" he trailed off as he spotted the knife in her hand. "Buffy, what are you doing?"
Buffy shrugged. "I don't know. I just…felt like I needed to come here."
"What are you doing with the knife?"
Angel reached for it, but Buffy held it possessively to her chest. "No! I need it!"
"For what?"
"Because I need to end it. I need to end it all." Buffy held up her arm and stared at it for several moments. She placed the blade of the knife against her skin and gently trailed it down the length of her stiches. "What would happen if I just cut into this?"
"Buffy, listen to me. These feelings you're having? You have to fight it. This is not you speaking. It's something evil that's haunting you."
"It wasn't haunting me. It was showing me."
"Showing you what?"
"I'm not a good slayer. A good slayer would have kept those she loved safe."
"Buffy, you can't save everyone."
"I couldn't save my mom, and it's my fault. If I hadn't argued with her, if I had just come home when I was supposed to, none of this would have happened."
"Buffy, your mother would not have wanted you to kill yourself."
"Don't try to stop me." Buffy got up from the floor and went out of the bathroom. She walked out into the living room where Angel followed.
"Buffy—"
"Just leave me alone, Angel! Don't you understand? Don't you get it? I'm done! Okay? I'm tired of fighting. That's all my life has ever been for two and a half years. Fighting evil. But I'm tired. I'm done with it. I don't want to fight anymore."
"So you're just going to give up?"
"What's the point of living when I have nothing to live for?"
"But you do having something to live for." Angel reached for her hands. "Think of all of the lives you have saved. Think of everyone you saved in Sunnydale when you killed the Master. You even saved me."
"But I didn't save everyone. There were still kids in that warehouse that didn't make it."
"Buffy, you're not God. No one has the power to save everyone, not even me. Nobody. People die."
Buffy jerked her hand away from his and paced to the other side of the room. In her hand, she still held the knife. "Just leave me alone, Angel."
"Buffy, you have the power to do some real good, whether or not you realize it at this moment or not. But if you kill yourself, then you're letting evil win."
She stopped her pacing and turned to look at him.
Angel could tell he was starting to get through to her. He moved closer to her. "Buffy, don't give up fighting. Just because you can't save everyone doesn't mean you're not a good slayer. This evil that has been haunting you, it wants you to die. It wants you to give up. Because you see, if you give up, there's one less person for it to fight. And sure, another slayer will rise, but she'll be a scared young girl, inexperienced in the ways of the world. She won't know what's out there like you do. She'll have to learn it all just like you did. But she won't have anyone to help her, not like you do. Don't you see, Buffy? Fighting is hard, yes, and it's painful, and it's every day. But it's what we have to do. And we can do it together."
Buffy slowly held up the knife and stared at it for a moment, as if she was confused why she was holding it in the first place. "What am I doing?" The knife fell to the floor with a bang, and Buffy began to sob.
"Hey, it's okay." Angel pulled her into his arms and Buffy held on tightly, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Angel?"
"Yeah?"
"I…" Buffy trailed off and pulled away, appearing to be distracted by something over his shoulder. "Oh my god."
"Buffy?"
She didn't answer, but instead, rushed over to the window. Angel followed her gaze, and in the light of a street lamp, he could see what had distracted Buffy: snow.
"It's snowing. Oh my god! It's snowing!" Buffy ran out the door and to the front porch, then down the steps into the middle of the yard.
Angel followed her at a more leisurely pace, watching as she stood up and twirled around in the flakes that were falling. Wesley, who had still been waiting in the car, got out to see the snow as well.
"She's okay," Angel mouthed, and Wesley breathed a sigh of relief.
Buffy turned around and smiled at Angel. "It's Christmas now, right?"
Angel nodded. "It's after midnight."
Her smile grew wider, and she laughed. "I got my white Christmas after all."
Angel smiled with her. "Yeah, you did."
Outside, the snow continued to fall, and the meteorologist was having a field day as he stood outside the studio with a pile of snow behind him.
Buffy turned off the television and looked outside again. Everything from cars to roofs were completely covered in white. Down below, she heard sounds of laughter from children outside playing, and a smile spread across her face.
"Wouldn't it be nice to be a kid again?" Buffy mused aloud, watching as one boy threw a snowball at another. "To be free from all of these responsibilities, to not have to worry about anything other than days you get off from school."
"It would be nice," Angel said as he sidled up next to her. The kids were now making snow angels. "But we can't go back."
Buffy looked away from the window and stared at Angel. "I know."
"There is one thing we could still look forward to though."
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
"You still get Christmas presents."
A smile spread across her face. "You got me a present? I love presents!"
Underneath Buffy's Christmas tree, Angel picked up a small wrapped box and handed it to her.
"What is this?"
Angel smiled. "Open it up and see for yourself."
Buffy ripped the paper off to reveal a small box. She lifted the lid and gasped. Nestled among the velvet of the box was a silver cross necklace. "Oh wow." She lifted the necklace out of the box and held it up. "It's beautiful."
"Since you lost your other one, I knew it was something you needed."
"I love it. It's bigger than my old one. Thank you, Angel."
"You're welcome."
"I got something for you too." A big grin was spread across her face as she reached behind her and pulled out a box. She placed it into his hands.
"You really didn't have to get me anything."
Buffy gave Angel a pointed look. "Are you serious? Of course I did. And even if I didn't have to, I wanted to. Go ahead. Open it."
Angel gently tore the wrapping paper away from the box. Once uncovered, he lifted the lid to find a sketch pad and charcoal among the tissue paper.
"Do you like it?" Buffy asked.
"I love it. How did you know this was something I would like?"
"It wasn't that hard. I've seen you've doodling on little scraps of paper. And that sketch of the pendent you drew? I figured if anyone could draw that well, they must be an artist, or should be at least."
"Thank you."
Buffy smiled, then sat down on the couch. She fiddled with the cross still in her hand.
Angel sat down beside her. "So, are you going to be okay?"
Buffy nodded. "Yeah, I think so. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't showed up. I wasn't in my right mind. I don't…I don't know what I was thinking."
"It wasn't you. It was the First manipulating you."
"Yeah, I guess. Sometimes there's part of me though that just wants to give up, to just stop fighting and let someone else do the job. But I can't give up. I need to keep fighting. People need me, even people I don't know. And I will avenge my mother's death. And Mandy's."
Buffy unclasped the cross necklace. "This is really beautiful."
"I would help you put it on, but…"
Buffy smiled. "Yeah, you probably shouldn't touch it. So…when are you leaving?"
"I'm not going anywhere."
Buffy looked at him, surprised. "You're not? But I thought…"
"You weren't the only one being manipulated by the First. I was convinced I would eventually hurt you. But that's not going to happen. That could never happen."
"So…you're staying?"
"If you'll have me. I…I like being with you, Buffy. Even if all we'll ever be is friends."
"Good, because I like being with you too."
A/N: Hope you all liked my version of "Amends", though I chose a different title because I thought it fit better. I wanted the First to torture Angel, but I thought it would be interesting to see Buffy being haunted as well, as she does admittedly feel some guilt for not saving her mother's life. And seeing as how the First takes form of a dead person, having the First appear as Joyce was too good of an opportunity to miss.
Until next week!
