A/N: It's baaaaaaaaaack! I really do owe you an explanation on why this took so long, and I'm going to post it here before I post it on my LiveJournal because I've been active on this site for so long – that is, assuming I've still got readers willing to keep reading after that break.
Long story short, I lost my laptop. I got most of my files off of it, but it was still a nightmare. The economy being what it is, it took me till about two weeks ago to get a new laptop – which I'm now typing this on. Since then, I've been working on this exclusively. I'll probably work on Winter Song next, but my Passion muse was calling to me. You have no idea how hard it was to be separated from a laptop for so long!
In any case, the laptop problem has been fixed and I am now fully connected to the internet at home. I've got this chapter finished and I'm already about half-done with the next chapter, so thanks so much to everyone who's stuck with this story, and I hope that this one was worth the wait. Yes, I know there isn't a huge amount actually happening in this chapter, but it's the chapter that needed to happen so we can launch into the next group of chapters, which are really important, so there you go.
Inconsequential Side Note I: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince was the best Harry Potter flick since Chamber of Secrets. It was the most true to the novel since the second movie, and I was very impressed with it. It was almost enough to make up for the monumental failures that were the third and fourth movies. Almost.
Inconsequential Side Note II: Paying for college textbooks sucks.
So, without further ado, here we go (finally) into:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
the Passion of Angels and Demons
Chapter XXII
The Devil in the Details
The parents had had to be dealt with first, and quickly. Buffy's mother was a very protective woman, and after not seeing or hearing from her daughter for more than twenty-four hours, Joyce Summers had decided to forgo the inept Sunnydale police department and head directly to the places her daughter was most likely to be: the Rosenbergs to look for Willow (both of Willow's parents quickly joined the search, figuring that their daughter was most likely with Buffy), then to the Osbornes to see if they were with Oz, then to the school to see if Buffy had pulled another all-nighter at the library. Upon hearing that neither Miss Calendar nor Mr. Giles had shown up for work, Joyce and the Rosenbergs had loaded up in Joyce's SUV and headed straight for Giles' apartment.
The fact that the townhouse looked like it had been hit by a centralized atomic bomb did nothing for their rattled nerves. The fact that Buffy was in Giles' bed along with Willow, Oz, Cordelia, and Xander—who had been missing for nearly three months—finally caused Joyce to snap. "You've abducted my daughter and you're involving her in some sort of twisted sexual orgy!" she accused. Mrs. Rosenberg buried her face in her husband's shoulder. It had taken quite a bit of doing for Giles to calm the irate parents down. When they still demanded explanations, Jenny thankfully stepped up to the plate.
"Buffy has been…investigating Xander's disappearance," she said quickly, stepping forward. "You know how protective she gets—like that night the school was attacked by that street gang on Parent-Teacher Night," she continued, inspired. Joyce conceded that point, remembering how her daughter had fearlessly leapt up into the air ducts and gotten everyone out of the building.
"And you allowed this? Really, Mr. Giles, I've come to trust you when it comes to my daughter, but who knows what could have happened to Xander—not that I'm not thrilled that he's back, of course I am! But you allowed my daughter to go hunting for him?" Joyce folded her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes.
"Oh, nothing like that," Jenny stepped in again. "No, she just…got Willow's help to look up crimes on the internet and posted pictures and checked in with the police to ask if they'd gotten leads. We let her use the school computers. She's been so down lately; we thought that if she felt like she was actually doing something, however small, to help Xander, it might lift her spirits." Joyce slowly nodded, and both Giles and Jenny breathed small sighs of relief when they saw that she was starting to calm down. "Well, what she didn't tell us was that she'd obviously found something on her own."
"She must have thought that we would try to stop her—which of course we would have," Giles said severely.
"Of course," Joyce said. "But, Mr. Giles, it looks like a bomb went off in here!" Suddenly, she gasped. "Was Xander kidnapped? Did they fight back? Is my daughter alright?!" Jenny stepped forward and put a calming hand on Joyce's shoulder (literally; she cast a small spell of tranquility to help Joyce breathe more calmly).
"You remember the storm yesterday?" Giles asked, thinking fast.
"Oh, yes, that awful freak thunderstorm," Mrs. Rosenberg nodded. "The weathermen were so baffled, and it was so localized…Oh, Lord, is that what happened here?"
"Yes – lightning, you understand. Luckily I wasn't in at the time and no one was hurt," Giles said, sighing.
"I certainly hope you have good insurance," Mr. Rosenberg muttered, glancing around at the carnage that was once a pristine townhouse.
"Oh, yes," Giles assured him. Oh, yes, the Watchers' Council will pay for this, he thought grimly. "Now, Mrs. Summers, the truth of the matter is that I wasn't present. It seems likely that Buffy fought someone, because she has a few bangs and bruises, but all in all she is fairly unharmed. She was just very tired—perhaps finally locating Xander after these stressful months has caught up with her. I let her and Xander use my bed, and then Willow and the rest just followed them. They've been sleeping for the past four hours and I'm somewhat hesitant to wake them."
"What does Willow have to do with all of this?" Mr. Rosenberg demanded. "Has our daughter been involved in illegal dealings?"
"Oh, of course not, Mr. Rosenberg," Jenny said smoothly. "She didn't know where Buffy had gone, either; she was so worried for Buffy that she came here to wait. Everyone has been so stressed out these past months that I think the exhaustion is natural."
"Yes, I was reading an excellent article about how unhealthy levels of stress can lead to physical exhaustion," nodded Mrs. Rosenberg. "As long as she's not physically injured, we really should be getting back to the conference, Ira…"
"Oh, yes. Thank you very much for taking care of her, Mr. Giles," said Mr. Rosenberg, already preparing to leave.
"Oh, it's never a problem. Willow is a very lovely and talented girl." The Rosenbergs glowed with pride as they left. Joyce shook her head in something akin to disgust after them.
"If that girl didn't make straight A's they'd never know she existed," Joyce said after a moment. "I think I was more worried about Willow's wellbeing than they were this morning; it was only after Ira thought of the legal ramifications that he decided to help me search for them." She sighed and sank exhaustedly onto one of the few remaining barstools at the breakfast counter. "Mr. Giles, I'd appreciate it if you had told me about Buffy's extracurricular activities. I appreciate how you were trying to help her relieve her stress, believe me, but I'm her mother and…well, ever since we've got to Sunnydale I feel as if something keeps drawing Buffy away from me…" She trailed off for a moment.
"Yes, of course, Mrs. Summers," Giles said uncomfortably. "I'm very sorry." And he was, really; Joyce was a perfectly lovely woman who cared for her daughter very much, and yet in some ways he was closer to Buffy than Joyce was, as Joyce could have no inkling of her daughter's calling as the Slayer. Buffy preferred it that way, she'd once told him. What, tell my mother that I'm the Slayer? Well, other than that I'm sure you'd get all lectury with me about 'secret this' and blah blah blah, would you? Would you give your mother that burden, tell her that anytime she's walking around after dark she's not safe? That the choice she made to move us here put us over the Mouth of Hell? That I go out fighting for my life every night? She's better off in the dark, Giles, believe me.
"I've really got to thank you for taking such good care of her," Joyce said after a moment. "After…the troubles in Los Angeles, so few teachers have really tried to see Buffy for who she really is. They just think 'troublemaker' or 'pyromaniac' and write her off as a failure. But I've seen how much it helps her that you've taken an interest, especially with that awful principal Snyder."
"Yes, well," Giles said, feeling even guiltier. "If you'd like, I can drive her home after she wakes up?"
"Oh, that would be wonderful," Joyce sighed. "I didn't sleep at all last night and I've got someone covering for me at the gallery; the least I can do is get some work done today. I think I'm going to need to have a serious talk with my daughter about the uses of a telephone." Somehow Giles had the suspicion that Buffy wouldn't be facing serious punishment when she went home.
"So, what do we do now?" Jenny asked after Joyce had left. Giles turned to regard her seriously.
"That does seem to be the question, doesn't it?" he asked after a moment. Jenny sighed.
"Rupert, I made a choice. It was something that needed to be done, and the consequences are mine to face—consequences that I earned, keep in mind."
"You don't need to face the consequences alone, Jenny," he said softly.
"Actually, I do," she replied. Seeing the hurt on his face, she chuckled softly and leaned in, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "Rupert, I'm not pushing you away. The fact of the matter is that everything that I've ever learned about my life, my role in it, has been shattered in less than a day. I'm no longer part of the Kalderash tribe; I'm no longer part of the Coven. Now, with all of that gone, I've got to figure out what's left. And that's something that I need to learn on my own. I'm not saying that we'll never see each other, but I can't figure out my life while I'm trying to figure out my life with someone else." He nodded slightly, but he was wincing. "Give me time, Rupert. That's all I'm asking for."
"Time is something I can easily give," he whispered, and then she was in his arms and his lips were on hers, and Jenny, just Jenny, smiled.
***
The next thing, of course, was to speak to the Coven. Giles hesitated as he regarded the cell phone number that the Lady of the Lake had given to him. The Lady of the Lake! It struck him as hysterically funny, for a moment, that such a legendary figure should have a cell. Of course, if that were the only hysterics that he indulged in, he figured that he was in far better shape than he would have guessed. Jenny wasn't the only one trying to refigure her life, not anymore.
The truth was, Marie-Claire's narrative had rocked Giles down to his core. The horrifying origins of the Slayer line and indeed the Watchers' Council…and hadn't the Council given him reason to pause, time and time again? Hadn't the bureaucracy of the group stifled him? And then there was the general attitude of the Council – mostly men, of course. It was rather like sitting back in a class in Oxford he'd sat in on to hear a guest speaker lecture on how much of the knowledge of Goddess worship was lost due to the overwhelming sexism and Judeo-Christian thinking of scholars at the time. The Slayer was like that goddess whose importance had been ground away until she was regarded as nothing but a tool to a group of men who solemnly declared that they were fighting the war from their posh, thousand pound leather chairs.
This group, that Giles was beginning to consider most distasteful, had the audacity to command him to subject Buffy to the Cruciamentum, an arcane and barbaric practice that had killed more than it had strengthened, merely because the Council knew that if the Slayer perished another would inherit the title? Did the Council know of their origins, or of the origins of the Slayer Line? If so, Giles had never heard of it. No one in the lower echelons of the Watchers' Council knew the origins of the Slayer's powers, and never had Giles heard even a whisper that that power was demonic in nature.
With this knowledge, would he have to make a choice as well? He pushed that thought to the back of his mind. There was too much else to deal with now to allow himself to wallow in doubt. He had to move forward with purpose, something his grandmother had taught him. She had been an excellent Watcher, completely dedicated to the cause. "Rupert," she'd told him when he was young. "In this line of work, we see the foulest things imaginable, and also the most wondrous. You must never lose that sense of wonder, or else the darkness will have won. If ever you find yourself lost in that dark wilderness, you don't stand in the dark and cry for someone to help you. You move forward with purpose. Eventually that purpose will bring the light back, mark my words."
It was sound advice, and it had never failed him before. So he moved forward, picked up his phone, and dialed the number. She answered on the first ring, her voice crisp but still somewhat hoarse from the long tale she'd told that morning. "Yes, Mr. Giles?"
"You said to phone when we were ready to speak," he reminded her.
"Yes," she answered. "I wonder if you'd like to meet somewhere other than your apartment for our conversation? It will be just me and you; the Lord has had to return to the Isle and our Seer has detected no further attacks this day."
"Where?" he asked.
"There's a rather charming park on a small hill that overlooks Sunnydale Beach, as I've discovered, and an old oak tree at the crest of the hill."
"I know the place, yes," he told her.
"Very good. I'll meet you there in fifteen minutes," she said, and hung up. He had to admire the way she refused to mince words, but there was still a part of him that bristled internally at the regal tone she carried. Then again, she was quite possibly the most powerful witch in the world and leader of the Ancient Coven. He swallowed his pride and asked Jenny to keep a watch over what was left of his apartment. He went into the bathroom and changed into some clean clothing.
Giles was thankful that it would be only the Lady herself meeting him; he wasn't ready to deal with the rest of the Covenmates that she'd brought with her, in particular the Lord of the Isle. While he didn't know what to expect from this meeting, he knew at least that she cared for Xander, genuinely, judging from her story. Now that the immediate danger had passed, surely she'd have some plan of her own to keep it that way. You're asking her to make that decision for you, old chap, Giles reflected as he glanced in the mirror of his ancient Citroen. His reflection stared back at him with circles under his eyes that hadn't used to be there, and he sighed as he drove toward Sunnydale Beach.
She was already waiting for him underneath the oak tree. She'd abandoned her regal attire and it was something of a surprise to him to see the Lady of the Lake dressed in blue jeans and a soft white blouse. She wore no shoes and her eyes were closed in meditation as her toes wriggled in the green grass. Giles felt instantly at ease and knew that she was meeting him not as the Lady but instead as Marie-Claire. He cleared his throat as he took a seat across from her and she slowly opened her eyes.
"Thank you for your promptness, Mr. Giles," she said after a moment.
"Of course – my bed is occupied at the moment, so there's really no rest for the weary," he joked weakly.
"How are they doing?" she asked, the concern in her voice touching him.
"I couldn't really say," he said honestly. "At the moment, the exhaustion has caught up with them—I've been so worried for Buffy these past months. She's pushed herself so hard that she's nearly reached a breaking point that I had hoped she'd never reach: a point where she won't be Buffy anymore and just be…" he trailed off, searching for words.
"The Slayer?" Marie-Claire supplied. He nodded and she sighed. "You are far different from any Watcher I've known, Mr. Giles," she observed. "You truly care about your charge. It's something of a curse for you, isn't it? If you had the cold detachment of the Watchers' Council, it wouldn't hurt nearly so much to see her like this."
"Yes—but then, if I had the cold detachment of the Council, I'm beginning to suspect that Buffy would not have lived this long or done as many extraordinary things as she's done," Giles said baldly. "Your story has given me much pause and even more to think about."
"An organization started badly can still perform works of great good," she said gently, surprising him. "True, there is much about the Watchers' Council and its members that I, for the most part, hold in disdain. But the fact of the matter is that most Watchers enter the Council in the hope of changing the world for the better. Even though you now know the wretched origins of your organization, can you say that the training and teaching they provided for you haven't helped to save the world and your Slayer time and time again?"
"You are more understanding than I," he said with a small smile. "Although I can see your point."
"It's something of a curse in my station," she admitted. "I have to be understanding even when I want to be petty."
"I don't imagine that you brought me up here to discuss the Council," Giles prompted after they'd fallen into a comfortable silence for a moment. "What is the Coven planning regarding Xander?"
"I must admit that we're still trying to figure that out," Marie-Claire said seriously. "None of us expected the Dance of Souls to work. I for one am stunned that your young witch is still alive. And slightly awed…if there were a way to woo her to train on Avalon, I would snap her up in an instant." Her eyes were laughing, belying the seriousness of her words. "But I have a feeling that she won't be leaving Sunnydale anytime soon."
"I suspect you're right," Giles nodded.
"Well, the Stoírm is definitively gone from this plane of existence. We've been able to sense that Xander's consciousness—while fractured in ways that we don't understand—is entirely his again. This erases the immediate danger. But until we know what happened during the Dance of Souls, we won't be able to plan our next move." She regarded him for a moment. "You must have understood the reason that I met you alone? I doubt that any of your group is ready to face us again after what we were ready to do this morning."
"What are you suggesting?" he asked, not understanding her segue.
"I'm suggesting that tonight, after the children have all awoken, I come to your apartment—I and I alone—and perform a simple spell to see what happened. I know that you at least seem to trust me, and that way you can assuage any fears the Slayer may have by having either Jenny or Willow shadow me, if either of their magical energies have been restored."
"About Jenny," Giles began awkwardly.
She held up a hand and stopped him. "She's been formally stripped from the Coven, and she will never be allowed to walk the shores of the Holy Isle again," Marie-Claire said firmly. "Even though we understand why she did what she did, and that her actions led to the prevention of Armageddon, the spell that she cast is utterly forbidden to any and all magic-users that walk the earth. Ordinarily, we would strip her of her powers."
"You can't—" Giles began hotly, but again she cut him off.
"I said ordinarily, Mr. Giles," she said gently. "The High Council has met and decided that Jenny will be able to keep her powers and continue to live here, with no further consequence than banishment. In the greater Wiccan community, banishment will serve as a harsh enough punishment for her."
"I don't imagine the Lord of the Isle agreed with your stance," Giles said flatly.
"That is not a topic for discussion," she said, her voice beginning to put guards up again.
"And I wouldn't ask you to divulge the nature of your relationship. But I need assurance," Giles returned. "In the brief amount of time that we met him, the Lord proved himself a thoroughly dislikable person with an active sense of antagonism toward both Xander and his friends. I need to make sure that Avalon's decision is also his decision."
"I understand," she said haltingly. She stared off toward the ocean. "It's true, Mathu has become more and more…difficult, lately. He has so much anger within him that…" She trailed off and didn't finish her sentence. He didn't prompt her to. "Yes, you have my assurance that I will watch the Lord of the Isle to ensure that he does not seek to follow his own path in this matter." She stood up fluidly, the invisible armor of the Lady of the Lake falling around her again. She was a goddess now, high and distant as a star.
"Thank you, Lady," he said, acknowledging this, and she smiled softly, a chink in the armor. "I will contact you when they've woken up."
"Thank you, Mr. Giles," she said. "I'll see you tonight."
When Giles returned to his shattered home, he wasn't at all surprised to see Jenny asleep, slumped against the remnants of his sofa. He'd have to make a full report to the Council as well as withdraw money from his Watchers' accounts in order to resurrect his home. It was funny how the destruction of his home was starting to hit him; in the brief time that he'd been in Sunnydale he had grown rather attached to his townhouse. It was an old building with genuine wood floors and wonderful insulation that kept nearly all the noise of his neighbors from him. He even had a private courtyard that the landlady filled with flowers. As much as he missed England, his flat had become his home away from home. Strange the things that you notice after a disaster strikes.
Giles crept up the stairs as quietly as possible. Buffy and Willow were both snuggled tightly around Xander in the middle. The boy, although pale, looked remarkably fit considering the trauma he had been forced through. But then, Xander had always been resilient. And there was the answer he hadn't been aware he was searching for – could he still think of Xander as Xander now that he knew what the boy really was? The answer was of course he could, and would. The absolute innocence of that once-smiling face in sleep was more than enough to affirm Giles of the rightness of his actions that morning.
Oz was snuggled into Willow's side, managing to look both protective and innocent all at once. Cordelia was curled like a cat in the large chaise lounge he'd indulged in for reading before bed. She'd dragged it next to the bed so that she could prop her feet up on the mattress. All five of the teenagers seemed to draw comfort in sleep from the closeness of each other. A great tenderness rose in him for the ragtag group of children that had somehow made him part of their family, despite how he'd tried to hold himself in reserve from the beginning. It was no good, though; he'd become the leader of this strangely wonderful group and he would do anything to keep it.
Smiling softly, he retrieved a spare blanket from the foot of the bed and headed back downstairs, sidestepping rubble as he descended. He propped the couch cushions behind Jenny to make her more comfortable, and then spread the blanket over her. She murmured in her sleep and snuggled under the blanket. He smiled at that, too, and then fetched his phone and headed into the courtyard to call the repair men. Willow had been forced to teach him how to use speed dial so that he wouldn't have to look their number up again and again. The exasperation in their voices when he gave his address and asked for a new door—again—was enough to justify the use of the technology.
Giles cast a small spell to muffle the sounds of the workmen as they installed a temporary (and rather unattractive) door an hour later. He tipped them generously, which seemed to improve their moods. Then he sighed and fixed himself some tea. Using the caffeine as energy, Giles set himself to cleaning what he could.
***
Buffy struggled out of what felt like cotton wrapped around her entire head slowly and grudgingly. Her body's clock was telling her that she'd been asleep for more than thirteen hours. She narrowly opened an eye and glanced toward the clock on her bedside. It wasn't there. Funnily enough, she didn't recall her bedroom being done in attractive mahogany wood. She gasped softly as the events of the previous thirty hours or so caught up to her conscious mind in a rush. She glanced frantically next to her, and sure enough, Xander was next to her in Giles' enormous bed, still slumbering, still her Xander-shaped friend.
She quickly got up and stumbled down the stairs. Giles glanced up and smiled, but frowned when Buffy promptly burst into tears. Giles ran toward her, and Buffy clutched onto him desperately, shaking like a leaf in the wind. Jenny looked out of the kitchen in concern, but she smiled slightly as Buffy bawled like a child into Giles' shoulder. He looked fairly panicked, and Jenny had to chuckle at that. No matter how much Giles genuinely cared about all of his young charges, he still wasn't quite sure how to deal with them at times. Jenny, for her part, knew that Buffy was only latching on to the most comforting thing at that moment as her body finally indulged in the breakdown that it so richly deserved.
For several minutes, Buffy just sobbed uncontrollably. She felt like there was an enormous tub full of emotions that she'd put a plug in, and now it was all draining out of her at once. It was sapping, it was awful, it was cathartic, it was wonderful and soothing and agonizing all at once. She couldn't have said how long she cried or how hard. All she knew was that after a long time she finally looked up, embarrassed, and told Giles "You're going to need to wash that tweed in cold water."
"Buffy, are you alright?" he asked, ignoring her lame attempt at lightness. She almost broke down again at the tenderness in his eyes, but she instead took a deep breath. Then she took another and grimaced. "What is it?" Giles asked, worried.
"I really need to pee," she confessed, and darted off in the direction of the bathroom.
"Of course," Giles said with a sigh, and shook his head as he headed back to the kitchen to continue piling the trash into bags. Jenny laughed.
***
The others had all woken up after Buffy's crying jag – well, except for Xander, but Giles had a magical peek in on him and assured them that he was truly just sleeping and that there was nothing to worry about. In truth, Buffy felt infinitely better after unleashing what had felt like a torrential downpour, like every emotion that she'd kept inside herself for these past months had gathered into one enormous thunderhead and the cloud had finally ruptured. It was possible—not that she was much of an optimist lately, but still—that one day the sun would break out on the inside again. Buffy figured that even admitting to herself that she'd needed the breakdown was a good step. And, Slayer powers being what they were, after sleeping for a solid thirteen and a half hours, she felt more than fully restored and energized and ready to kick major demon ass.
The thought was more sobering than she'd intended it to be. She was part demon – alright, not a big part, but still, there was the ancient essence of a demonic overlord flowing through her, energizing her and giving her the powers of the Slayer. No matter what the Lady of the Lake had said about goodness choosing her, Buffy couldn't help feeling…tainted, almost. Was it her that was eager to go patrolling again, or was that small bit of bloodlust a demony transference thing? Would she be questioning her own mind from now on? Choosing not to share her thoughts with Giles, who looked preoccupied enough, Buffy instead focused on the bowl of ice cream Jenny had thoughtfully gone to the store for.
She surreptitiously surveyed her battered troops. Thanks to Jenny's little magic whammy, the damage was mostly emotional. Buffy wondered if she should thank the woman, and then thought of the other witches' harsh words. Maybe being reminded of what she'd done wouldn't be the best thing for her right now? This whole adult emotions thing was way over her head, at least tonight. Buffy was due a new pair of shoes—provided, of course, that her mother didn't ground her for the rest of her natural-born existence, especially after Giles had told her about his attempts at damage control. He'd looked very proud of himself, so Buffy had refrained from bursting into tears in front of him again.
(Did he honestly think that Joyce Summers, a favorite for the 'Most Overprotective Mother of the Year' award, was going to avoid cracking down on her daughter's attempts at playing amateur detective? She could already hear the harangue in her head: This is a police matter, Buffy!—You're not Superwoman, Buffy!—Do you have any idea how worried I've been, Buffy?!—You are so grounded, Buffy! Buffy sighed and philosophically spooned herself another dose of Super Brownie Fudge Chunk.)
Funny how even three days ago Buffy had thought that she even hated Jenny still for her role in Angel's downfall, but now, after everything, it was too much to go through without reevaluating Jenny Calendar. The woman had done what was required of her by both blood family and magical family, and she'd done it with the best of intentions, while arguing for Angel's chance of redemption the entire way. Buffy couldn't find fault in her, no matter how much a petty, childish part of her still wanted to. But then, as Buffy was learning, playing the blame game didn't accomplish much other than alienating people. And she could tell that petty-Buffy part to shut up when she saw the way Giles was smiling at Jenny as she helped him clean rubble out of his kitchen.
Willow and Oz were curled up together on a pair of couch cushions (the couch itself was history, of course), sharing a bowl of ice cream. Buffy couldn't help smiling at how cute a picture they made, even though it still gave her a twinge of pain when she thought of everything she'd lost this year. But she couldn't begrudge her friends their happiness, after everything. It was also something of a relief to see Willow looking more and more like her nerdy self, after the freakishness that had been Superwitch!Willow that morning. Willow had circles under the bags under the circles under her eyes, and she was quite pale, but Giles had assured them all that that was just the toll of the magic on Willow's system; after a few more restful days and plenty of vegetables and water, Willow should be feeling back to the up and up.
Cordelia had opted to go upstairs with her ice cream (after suspiciously checking the fat content and then sighing theatrically) and watch Xander to make sure that he didn't wake up alone. Buffy was more than grateful because…well, yes, she was more than happy, she was overjoyed shoot the moon thrilled to have Xander back. But then…Yeah, but then. What could she say to Xander—what could any of them say? Because the fact of the matter remained that Xander had gone with Angelus willingly. Xander had chosen to put them all through this – or at least, he'd made the choices that had led them to this. And there was a large part of her that felt like punching him on the nose when she thought of the memories she'd glimpsed in his head during that weird Wiccan Mind Meld thing – memories of him and Angelus together…
But she'd been joined with him on a soul-searing level. She'd felt everything that Xander felt and she'd felt his love for Angel, and his passion for Angelus, and she'd seen the look on Angelus' face when Xander had recoiled from his touch this morning, and she couldn't hate Xander for sleeping with Angelus, but she did. Buffy buried her head in her hands. She loved Xander. He was more than her best friend, he was the brother that she'd never had but always sort of wanted. But she couldn't help the feelings of betrayal that shot through her when she thought of how he'd felt about Angel, her Angel, never mind Angelus, he of the psychotic torturing rampages.
There were too many thoughts inside her tired mind, and for one instant she longed with all her being for the age of thirteen, when she was young, bouncy, blonde, and a bubbly cheerleader with not a thought in her head but the next sale at the mall. But after a moment, she rejected the fantasy. No matter how much hardship being the Slayer had brought her, it had opened her eyes. She didn't even recognize the shallow, vapid girl that she'd once been.
"Er, well, since everyone's awake," Giles began hesitantly. Buffy looked up with narrowed eyes.
"If you try to put us through more official business tonight I'll stab you with this spoon," she threatened, and forcefully shoveled another mouthful of chocolatey deliciousness into her mouth. Giles looked appropriately threatened, but she noticed his determined Watcher face, and sighed. Sensing that he'd somehow won the battle before fighting it, Giles heaved a small sigh of relief and forged on. Willow shot her an amused look.
"The Lady of the Lake – that is to say, Marie-Claire – is coming tonight," Giles announced.
"Why?" Cordelia asked from the top of the stairs. "What would she want?" From the distaste in her voice, Buffy didn't have to guess at Cordelia's feelings for the Avalon group. Funnily enough, Buffy didn't have much of a desire to see any of them again, either. She nodded in agreement.
"She's going to come in order to check on Xander in ways far more reliable than I have on hand, and then she's going to discuss with us the subject of Xander's future," Giles said. "She's coming alone because we both felt that everyone here trusted her more than the rest of the Avalon coven. And she does seem to care for Xander—"
"Yeah, enough to say 'sorry' before she tried to kill him," Cordelia said flatly, glaring daggers at Giles. Giles didn't meet her eyes, and Buffy didn't blame him; there was nothing in the world quite like a true, patented Icy Glare of Cordelia Chase.
"Marie-Claire is someone you can trust," Jenny said unexpectedly from the kitchen. She stared into her teacup for a moment as if the answers of the universe were in there. She gradually looked up, almost unwillingly, to find them all staring at her. Flustered, she took a sip and continued, "Of the rest of the group from Avalon, she's still the most…connected to the rest of the world, I suppose you could say. She hasn't isolated herself from the lives outside of the Holy Isle the way that most of them have. And she truly wouldn't want to see Xander hurt, for what that's worth."
"I believe her," Buffy said after a moment. "I got a good reading off of her, this morning, or at least as much of one as you can trust from someone who can work some voodoo to make you trust them."
"And being one of the ones who can work some voodoo," Willow said, shooting Buffy a look, "I think that we can trust her – way more than we can trust that druid jerk, anyways."
"Yeah, him," Buffy said. "What's his deal, anyway?"
"I couldn't tell you," Jenny said, answering the question. "The Lord—Mathu," she said, catching herself, "has always had more…anger, I suppose, than most who study at Avalon. He's powerful, but he's proud and unforgiving. I didn't study with the older classes, so I didn't have much experience with Mathu's teacher Shiloh, but I would have thought that someone as…" she trailed off.
"Prickish?" Cordelia supplied acerbically.
"Pigheaded," Jenny said firmly, "as Mathu wouldn't have been trusted with the title of Lord of the Isle."
"Well, I damn well made certain that he will not be coming tonight," Giles said firmly. "I don't like the man, and frankly I don't trust him. Something about him reminded me of Ethan Rayne."
"The guy that you used to do black magic junkie stuff with? Ew!" Cordelia commented, coming downstairs.
"As usual, Cordelia, your way with words is unsurpassed," Giles said after a moment as he cleaned his glasses. "How is Xander?"
"He's snoring away up there," she reported. "I don't know how he manages to sleep through it when he starts snoring; it's like a ripsaw up there."
"He used to make cute little breathing noises through his nose when we had sleepovers in each others' beds," Willow reminisced fondly. She glanced up and noticed everyone staring at her. Flushing brighter red than her hair, she exclaimed "When we were children! Don't look at me like that!"
"Anyway," Buffy said after a moment of collective silence, "when is she due to get here?"
"I called her after you woke up," Giles said. "She'll likely be here any moment."
"Should we wake Xander up?" Willow asked. "Since we're gonna be talking about him and all?"
"I think the best thing for him is to let him sleep," Jenny said. "He's been through hell and back these last few days. He still needs to get over the stress."
Just then, there was a knock at the door. They all paused. Buffy finally stood up to answer it. By unspoken agreement, Willow joined Cordelia at the stairs, unconsciously blocking access to Xander like guards. Oz, ever Willow's satellite these days, took up his usual taciturn silence and leaned against the stairs next to Willow. Jenny's hand slipped into Giles', and he gave it a reassuring squeeze as they both leaned against the breakfast bar. Buffy opened the door.
"Good evening," said the Lady of the Lake. "I'm glad that you're feeling better."
"Thank you," Buffy said politely. "Would you like to come in?"
"Thank you," said the Lady, and she carefully stepped in. Tonight, she was dressed in a plain white dress that emphasized her pale skin and light blonde hair. She had a white cloak draped loosely over her shoulders, and Buffy had to wonder how she'd managed to get from wherever she was staying all the way across Sunnydale to Giles' without having someone stop her. Magic, of course, she answered herself soberly, and closed the door behind her.
"Is Xander still sleeping?" she asked, glancing around the apartment. Giles nodded. "I must say, Mr. Giles, I'm impressed that you've managed to clean this place after how it looked this morning," she said with a slightly mocking smile.
"I would offer you a place to sit, but…" Giles swept his hand to indicate the eradicated living room furniture.
"Of course," she said with a polite nod. Buffy was sure that she wasn't the only one to notice how Marie-Claire was carefully not acknowledging Jenny's presence, or the way Jenny's mouth tightened. This must be the banishment thing that the Lady had pronounced that morning after Jenny had cast that freaky spell. Thinking about the agony of the healing had Buffy wincing, so she stepped forward and joined Giles.
"So, Giles said that we had to talk about what happens to Xander now," she started. The pleasantries were starting to grate on her. After the last two days, she just wanted this to be over. She wanted to go home and sleep in her own bed, and then wake up and go to school and see Xander and Willow and Giles and Oz and Cordelia waiting for her in the library, wanted to joke and gossip and talk about inconsequential things like the math test she'd either skipped or flunked last week, she couldn't quite remember which. "I thought that the demon was out of him now."
"The Stoírm has certainly been cast out of him, but there are still a wealth of things to be decided," Marie-Claire answered. She met Buffy's eyes and didn't condescend, she noticed, and that did a lot to raise the woman's estimation in Buffy's mind. "The most pressing is, obviously, if the Stoírm has an opportunity to simply try the same trick over again."
"But there are other things to worry about?" Buffy pressed.
"Certainly," Marie-Claire nodded. "The first, obviously, is the vampire Angelus. You can rest assured that he will not let Xander go quietly, which is something of great concern to both Sunnydale and Xander's physical and most importantly emotional well-being. The second is Xander's powers. I'll need to inspect your memories of the Dance of Souls to see quite what has been unleashed, and what steps to take in that instance. Also, the Tiocfee ar la, who most certainly will be waiting to finish what their master started. And finally, there is cleaning to be done – although the magic of the Hellmouth seems to do a great deal to quiet the concerns of the people, the news tonight carried many stories of the freak weather incidents and the noises coming from this neighborhood. The coven is quite concerned with secrecy, you understand, so we'll have to wipe our presence from here."
"Oh," Buffy said. "Well, if that's all…" She giggled quietly. "Not too much left to deal with, is there?"
"The worst is over, Buffy," Marie-Claire said, her voice gentle, understanding. "The rest is just the aftermath. What you've accomplished this day is nothing short of astonishing. Don't let the cleanup overwhelm you."
"I just want it to be over," Buffy whispered. Marie-Claire moved forward and placed a gentle hand on Buffy's shoulder.
"It soon will be," she said calmly. "Now, where is Xander?"
"He's asleep upstairs," Willow said guardedly. "Why?"
"I'm going to perform a magical scan, to ensure that all traces of the possession are truly gone from his body. This will also help him to heal faster, at least physically," Marie-Claire answered matter-of-factly. "You'll be aiding me, I presume? That is, assuming you've recovered from this morning."
"I'll be fine," Willow said strongly, standing up. Determination sparkled in her emerald eyes, and Marie-Claire smiled softly.
"I don't doubt that," she said somewhat wryly. "You know, I'm of course honor-bound to offer you a place on Avalon to continue your magical studies. On a more personal level, I'd practically leap to have you train there." She and Willow shared a slight smile, and Buffy had a feeling that Willow had done that weird mind-beam thing she'd been working on where she shot a thought right into your head. From the look on Marie-Claire's face, Buffy had a feeling she knew what the thought had been.
Willow turned and led Marie-Claire up the stairs, Cordelia and Oz both following them. Buffy curiously headed up herself, and she heard Giles right behind her. Jenny, she noticed, had opted to stay downstairs. Jenny trusted Marie-Claire, but she didn't want to be around her. Buffy didn't blame her; it looked like anyone who was part of the magical community Avalon seemed to be maintaining would do their best to shun Jenny from their company. How depressing, and just for one stupid spell, Buffy thought. If she were Jenny, she wouldn't want to be in the same room with her old teacher for long either.
Xander lay much like she'd left him, in the middle of the big bed, cocooned in blankets, a slight frown furrowing his brow. He looked so much like the boy her mother had allowed her to have over for a sleepover with Willow that Buffy's breath caught in her throat. Despite everything, no matter what bad feelings were between her and Xander now, Buffy knew that it had been worth it just to get this precious innocence back.
Instinctively, she and the others stood back as Willow and Marie-Claire stood next to the bed. Marie-Claire held a hand out to Willow, who grasped it. Then the woman said something softly in a language Buffy didn't know; a soft light seemed to flow from her hand, touching Xander softly. Willow's forehead was crinkled in that way that she had when she was absolutely concentrated on something. Buffy couldn't see much of anything, but she just knew that Marie-Claire was allowing Willow to see every step behind the spell, teaching her the enchantments. It seemed frightening somehow that Willow was able to pick up and master new spells so fast.
She shook that thought off as the gentle, pulsing light flowed with liquid laziness over Xander's form, glowing brighter in places and darker in others. After a long moment, it simply faded out of being, until there was mostly darkness in the loft once again. Willow let go of Marie-Claire's hand and swayed slightly. Oz made as if to help her stand up but she waved him off and determinedly stood straighter, on her own two feet.
"So?" Cordelia demanded, glancing between the two of them. Willow shot her a reproachful glance and pointed downstairs. Cordy sighed and marched down, throwing them all an imperious look that demanded they follow. Buffy was pleased to find that she still had it in her to be amused at the look on the Lady of the Lake's face as she helplessly followed where Queen C had demanded. "So?" Cordelia repeated once they'd all assembled back in the living room. Jenny was in the kitchen, brewing tea, listening in but not interfering.
"The diagnostic was what I'd hoped," Marie-Claire reported. "The Stoírm has completely left Xander's being. He's whole once again."
"That's good news, right?" Buffy asked.
"It's exceptionally great news," the witch confirmed. "This simplifies things much more. There is only one thing left to do now – Buffy, if you'd sit down next to me and Willow, please?"
"Why?" Buffy asked, though she was already moving to comply.
"We're going to view the memory in your mind of this morning's events, what you saw and experienced within Xander's soul, and how the Stoírm was expelled," Marie-Claire explained. "It's painless and I doubt you'll even feel it; it will be like watching a movie within your own mind. That should answer any lingering questions we have about what to do next."
"What do I have to do?" Buffy asked practically.
"Just sit down here, next to us. Willow, do you know this spell?" Marie-Claire asked. Willow jumped slightly in surprise.
"What spell?"
"It's called the Mindwalk, one of the ways to view a memory," the other woman explained.
"Well, Miss Calendar's been teaching me to read auras and stuff like that," Willow said haltingly. "Sometimes I pick up surface thoughts but I've never tried to actually go in someone's mind before."
"How long have you been reading auras?" Marie-Claire asked, staring at her.
"Um, like a month?" Willow laughed weakly. She'd never been comfortable in the spotlight. Buffy nudged her foot and gave her a smile. Willow shrugged slightly.
"Hmm," said Marie-Claire. After a moment, she shook her head slightly. "Well, I'm going to teach you how to cast this spell. It's a useful thing, something Mr. Giles could use to see something that Buffy unconsciously noticed during a fight." She beckoned Willow over to her and Buffy could see the usual eagerness Willow had to learn something new. Buffy nervously sat down next to them.
"Usually, we cast a protective circle and use representations of the elements, but all that's really required for this spell is relaxation," Marie-Claire said, her voice reverting to full-on teacher mode. "Buffy, I'm going to give you a little push toward relaxing. When we're finished, you're going to feel a little sluggish, but this should pass quickly. Alright?"
"Fine," Buffy said. She just wanted to get this over with – there were many things about this morning she'd rather not dwell on. Marie-Claire leaned forward and gently touched Buffy's forehead. It was the strangest feeling, really; like a soft light was slowly moving through Buffy's body, like she was in the sparkling waters of the Pacific ocean at her favorite beach when she was a child, her and her cousin Celia floating, rocked by the waves, Aunt Laura calling at them exasperatedly to not go out so far. The sun was shining down…
Marie-Claire's voice came from far away, saying something to Willow that Buffy couldn't make out and didn't much care either. This was a lovely place. Something was weird, though; she couldn't really say how she knew but she just knew that she wasn't alone here. She could feel two powerful forces, alien, moving through her memories. She was relaxed, though – one was Willow, and her essence felt like Willow-hugs and books and computers and fresh-cut grass, and from Marie-Claire she could feel goodness, and that was good too. Buffy closed her eyes and continued to float in the ocean of memory within her mind.
Buffy was vaguely aware that behind her eyelids she began to see a vision, like a movie playing only far too realistic. She saw herself and Angelus within Xander's mind. The movie paused and played more slowly as they met the child/creature that called himself 'Alex', saw the way he tried to impress them (and more particularly Angelus). The movie moved forward to the battle on the beach, to the way that Xander and Alex had joined into one entity, the resulting fight, the explosion. And then the kiss, the way Angelus had kissed him and how she had kissed him, the memories that had played and the feelings she'd felt. And then they were outside of the Circle of Psyche and Xander was violently recoiling from Angelus and Buffy felt her own memory pause on the look of pain on Angelus' face, and she knew the pause was something she herself had built in because she remembered that look more clearly, and suddenly she wanted the movie to be very much over—
And then it was, and she opened her eyes slowly to see that Marie-Claire was discussing something with Giles and that Willow was talking quietly to Cordelia and Oz, holding Oz's hand tightly. Buffy felt energy start to return to her loose body and her sore muscles felt a little less sore. Maybe there was something to that meditation stuff that Giles was always trying to teach her. Buffy eased herself slowly to her feet, and the whispered conversations stopped.
"Are you alright, Buffy?" Willow asked worriedly. "We thought you'd passed out."
"Nah, I'm good," she said, stretching lightly. "I could use some water, though."
"Here," Jenny said, reappearing out of the kitchen. She'd already had a glass waiting, Buffy noticed, and she gave Jenny a grateful look as she took a long drink.
"So," Buffy said after the cotton-mouthy feeling had been washed out, "did we find out what we needed to find out?"
"Yes, I think we did," Marie-Claire answered her. "I've been discussing things with Mr. Giles, and I think that we've come to a fairly reasonable conclusion. I'll lay it out to all of you:
"Essentially, we're dealing with four large problems in regard to Xander. The first is the largest and most potentially dangerous of them all. Xander's heritage has been awoken within him. From his birth father, the Stoírm, as Buffy has ascertained, he has inherited the ability to wield certain elemental powers regarding the weather. From his mother's bloodline, he has inherited a certain natural magic – powerful, certainly, but unfocused. Together, these two power sources have the potential to grant Xander a large amount of power. The problem is, obviously, that he has no conscious control over these powers, and no training in using them. One option is to try to bind Xander's powers again.
"My own opinion is that we should stop trying to ignore the problem and instead simply deal with it. With that in mind, I will assign a witch from Avalon to travel to Sunnydale and tutor Xander to give him control. We will bind part of his powers, so that as he gains more control he can safely unlock those powers. Given that his…orientation, I suppose is the term, doesn't give to childbearing, this may very well be the final solution."
"Sounds good," Buffy said cautiously. "So he'll be able to, what, shoot lightning out of his eyes?"
"Great," Cordelia huffed. "Now not only am I now the only powerless one here, I'm also going to have to deal with Xander wanting to give himself some lame-ass comic book name and make himself even more of a geek, thus murdering all of my chances to eventually climb back to the top of Sunnydale's social mountain." She looked up at the sky with a very put-upon expression, as if to ask the gods why they hated her.
"Please," Buffy said. "The day that you allow one of your friends to limit your social standing is the day that you decide tweed is the new spandex." Cordelia shuddered eloquently. Then she said, "Point." Buffy nodded magnanimously.
"Are they always like this?" Marie-Claire asked, bewildered.
"Absolutely," said Giles. "Care for some tea?"
"Alright, then," said the Lady of the Lake, looking slightly ruffled. "So, now that's settled, we'll move on to the other problems. And no, by the way, I don't foresee Xander having the power to shoot lightning from his eyes."
"He'll be so disappointed," Willow said with a smile.
"Won't we all?" Oz asked, breaking his silence.
"As the Lady was saying," Giles said exasperatedly. Buffy and Willow at least had the grace to look chastised and glance down. Cordelia sighed and pulled out a nail file from god knew where and began to clean her cuticles.
"Yes – I'm sorry, I'd assumed the werewolf was mute," she said after a moment.
"His name is Oz," Willow said defensively, and for a moment it looked like lightning would shoot out of her eyes.
"My apologies," said Marie-Claire swiftly.
"It's cool," said Oz cooly.
"You were saying…" Buffy prompted.
"Yes," said Marie-Claire, snapping out of it. "Well, the second problem is obviously clean-up, as I was saying earlier. We'll have to reintegrate Xander back into Sunnydale as normally as possible, with as few questions about his absence as possible."
"That shouldn't be too much of a problem," Willow said confidently. "We can just say that he was visiting a sick uncle or something. I can do some hacking and come up with some legitimate travel papers and things. I can even invent a family member if you wanted."
"Willow, how would you know that you can invent a person real enough for the government to believe they existed?" Cordelia asked as she examined one of her fingernails. Willow flushed.
"Willow, you're supposed to use your powers for good," Buffy sighed dramatically.
"She's actually an evil mastermind bent on world domination," Oz acknowledged. "It's fun."
"Well, the more realistic and legitimate the better," said Marie-Claire, taking control of the conversation again. "You see, the third problem is obviously Xander's emotional well-being. As you know, Buffy, the subconscious part of Xander that has more control over his powers is now slowly integrating back into Xander himself. While we're dealing with a problem of this psychological delicacy, we'll need to keep Xander's emotional well-being as stable as possible.
"Which is the next question I'd like to raise: where will Xander be staying? Because I certainly can't condone his returning to his parents, not at this juncture."
"Well, for the moment he can stay with me – or, at the hotel I'll be living out of until my apartment is repaired," said Giles after a moment. "I'm sure that we can figure something out after that."
"That should be splendid," Marie-Claire nodded. "He clearly regards you as a father-figure already; it will help to provide a more stable home." Giles looked both surprised and pleased at this, and Buffy smiled slightly and shared an 'aww' look with Willow. Cordelia smirked and seemed to pull a brush out of thin air as well, and began to work through her luxurious brunette tresses. Bitch, Buffy thought without heat. The last conditioner she'd invested in had been a complete flop and her hair couldn't even pretend to look as good as Cordelia's. Of course, her mother had mercilessly needled her about not trying before buying and was now making Buffy use the entire bottle before she'd allow her to get new conditioner. So unfair!
"And, of course, the fourth problem…is, well, the vampire. Angelus." Marie-Claire looked uncomfortable, and Buffy could tell it was due to the memories that the witch had viewed through Buffy's mind. Buffy stiffened. "Whatever is decided—"
"I'm going to kill him," Buffy said flatly. "That's what I should have done months ago, and then this whole mess would never have started in the first place. I'll do what I have to do."
"Buffy," she began, but Buffy could hear the pity in the woman's voice. She was just starting to feel normal again, the banter among her friends lifting her spirits. She couldn't handle pity now; she'd break down. She narrowed her eyes and Marie-Claire subsided. "Yes, well, if that's dealt with." She looked listless for a moment, not sure what to say next. "I suppose that this is the end of it. You'll hear from us soon, Mr. Giles." She nodded politely and headed out of the apartment, vanishing into the night, her white form fading evanescently into the moonlight, like a goddess herself.
Buffy stared into the night and sighed. Angel, she thought wistfully, tears springing to her eyes. Then she blinked furiously and cleared the tears away, shutting the door firmly on the tantalizing breeze that had once signaled the arrival of what she'd thought she loved most in the world. Where are you?
***
The clothes still smelled like Xander, and it made him want to rip something's throat out. He'd gone back and sifted through the ashes, of course, after the explosion, when he'd still though that Xander was dead. He'd found that some of Xander's things in the chest that he'd had for clothing had survived. At the time he had wanted them for the scent, to have something of his sweet boy's to remember him by. Now, the scent was swirling through his being and driving the blood thirst to painful heights. But even the thought of draining some meaningless human was enough to make him curl his lip. He hungered for Xander's blood so deep that it hurt, and he knew that nothing else would possibly satisfy him.
They had moved on from the funeral home, since the Slayer had found them there. He had no doubt that Buffy would make good on her promise and devote her efforts toward killing him. Since his experience with her recently, he wanted to ensure that he was at full strength when the fight came. He wasn't looking forward to it – not that he had any doubts that he'd win, in the end, no matter how hard it would undoubtedly be. The world had yet to see a Slayer like Buffy, he knew. But he would kill her. What galled him was that he knew that it wouldn't…please him to see her dead. Not three months ago he'd have dismembered her and fucked what was left while she was still alive before ripping her head off her shoulders to keep as a trophy, and done it gladly. Now…
Hissing in rage, Angelus stuffed the clothes back into the charred remains of the chest and stormed out of the room. He would kill someone and drain their blood. He needed his strength, and he wouldn't see himself starve the way that his weak, disgusting soul had forced him to do. Spike had found them an old mansion on the outskirts of town, a sort of cross between the ancient castles of the old country and the modern castles of America, something that suited Angelus' tastes perfectly. He knew that Spike had done it in an attempt to please him. Ordinarily, the thought that his wayward Childe would try to appease his rage so thoughtfully would put him in a good mood, but nothing was ordinary anymore.
He swept downstairs and was pleased to see that no one was left on the main floor. So far, they'd turned three new minions, and he knew that Spike and Drusilla were busy rebuilding the empire that they had inherited from the Master's pet, the Anointed One. Perhaps he'd turn one tonight. Angelus shut the door behind him and slowly stalked toward Sunnydale. He needed to let his rage build, the vampire figured. He needed to regain the clarity that he had lost these past months, return to the darkness from which he had been born. He needed a truly nasty kill tonight – maybe a child, something horrific that would terrorize the humans in his town, would remind Buffy who she was dealing with.
Angelus deflated as he realized that his restless feet had taken him right back to the Harris house. There was simply no avoiding it. His Xander, his boy, his sweet, sweet boy, had rejected him. Not only rejected him – he'd had true fear in his eyes at the thought of Angelus' touch. Angelus had thought to set the boy free, make him the demon he was born to be. He'd thought of the power he could control and how he would have Xander with him through eternity. He had never realized how much power those so damnably human and innocent chocolate brown eyes had on him until they had recoiled in fear from his very touch.
The pain was unfathomable. Xander's death, that would nearly destroy him – nearly had, when he'd thought the boy was dead. But he would have grown on, gotten stronger from the pain, perhaps. But rejection…He thought back to the look on Darla's face when he'd thrust the bolt of the crossbow through her chest, stabbing unerringly through to her heart. "Angel?" she'd whispered, the pain on her demonic face so strange to him, who had never seen her as anything other than the cold, golden goddess who had created him. His betrayal…Xander's rejection…
Angelus froze as headlights cut the night and nearly penetrated the shadows that he stood in, by the old oak tree that led up to Xander's window. Tony Harris, the reek of drink pouring from his skin, stumbled out of the junky, beat-up car and wove drunkenly toward the stairs. Rage began to build in Angelus' core as Tony hollered incoherently at Jessica, who just yelled back. This repulsive, fat, drunken bastard had dared to lay finger on Angelus' Claimed? Why hadn't he killed him? Because Xander, lovely, sweet Xander, had protected him, him and his whore mother who stood by and watched her son get beaten, so caught up in the pathetic tragedy that was her life that she couldn't care. Because his Xander was too good to let them die for their crimes.
"Don't touch me!" Xander yelled, jerking away from him, fear in his eyes, eyes that had once whispered 'I love you' across a room and made Angelus feel as if he were flying, as if he could taste the redemption his soul had longed for, and then made him cross a room to make love to his sweet boy again and again—
"Don't touch me," Angelus whispered dully. Those were Xander's words to him. His face rippled into its true, ugly demonic visage and his fists clenched, sharpened nails cutting into his skin, bringing sweet pain and the scent of blood into the air. The vampire threw his head back and roared his pain to the night. There was silence from the Harris house. Make it so.
The door was ripped easily from its hinges and he threw it across the living room so hard that it cracked into pieces against the far wall, rattling the wall itself and making pictures crash to the cheap, stained carpeting. His boy, who deserved a palace, living in this filth. Don't touch me! Angelus stalked slowly into the house, his lips curling back. Tony Harris, who had once been happy, once been strong, now screaming and dropping his alcohol. His massive, meaty fists, fists that had once beaten his boy so carelessly, now twitching in terror. Angelus roared in pain and rage and shot forward.
"You dare touch my boy?!" he roared, hysteria hissing through his voice. "YOU DARE TOUCH MY BOY?!" He hurled the disgusting human away from him, and Tony crashed through the television. The drunken fuck landed on his back, screaming in pain and terror, the glass cutting through his skin. Angelus gagged at the thought of drinking it. Instead he turned to Jessica, who was backed up against a wall, staring at Angelus, her eyes huge and dark, her face slack. He took a step toward her and realized she was whispering to herself, over and over:
"nonononononononono"
She was beneath his notice. Beneath his contempt. He turned instead to the thing on the floor and picked it up. "You'll never hurt him again," he breathed. "Never." His hands trembled as Tony keened and whined like a dog in his hands. He grabbed his greasy hair and yanked with all his strength. There was a sickening crack and a meaty tearing sound as Tony Harris' head was jerked nearly halfway off. His blood poured out in a scarlet waterfall, and Angelus stepped neatly aside to avoid the disgusting substance. He held the man dispassionately through his final death throes. Then he finished the job and tossed the head at Jessica's feet. She started screaming. Angelus had a feeling she wouldn't stop for a long time.
Good.
He felt exhaustion filling him and he lost that moment of blissful satisfaction he'd achieved at eliminating the sources of Xander's pain. Instead the pain of Xander's loss cut through him like acid-tipped blades and he stumbled slowly up the stairs, toward his room. Reverently, Angelus opened the door. It was exactly like he'd left it when he'd last been in here, taking Xander's clothing. Whimpering like an animal, Angelus drew the blinds closed and laid down on Xander's bed, letting the scent of his beautiful, sweet boy, now lost to him, wash over him. He bathed in it like a penitent seeking baptism, and he slowly fell into dark dreams with Jessica's insane screaming singing him a nightmarish lullaby.
A/N: Finally we reach the end of yet another twenty-page chapter – but hey, at least it wasn't a thirty-forty page chapter like the last few (ugh)! Now, I must promise this – Xander and Angelus will actually speak to each other next chapter, so watch out for that! Also, we get to meet Xander's new tutor…hmm…
Thanks for reading the update, looking forward to some reviews (hint). :) See you next time!
(Oh...and by the way, has anyone else recently had trouble posting chapters to the website? Because this update would have been up two days ago if the site hadn't glitched.)
Sincerely,
PyroPadawan.