1753
Galway, Ireland
Fort George
The air is hazy with dust and debris from the Fort's walls collapse because of the explosion.
Lying flat on his back amid the rubble of broken stones a jolt of life coursed through Angelus' veins. Violently coughing from the thick dust clogging his nose and throat, Angelus realised that he was alive.
Squinting his eyes open, Angelus looked at the heavy stones on top of his body.
Becoming more aware, Angelus used the strength left in his body and pushed the limestones from crushing his body. He gasped with each breath and gritted his teeth in pain.
He slowly kicked his legs, thankful that the stones hadn't broken them.
Gritting his teeth, he sat up groaning from his injured body. His eyes stung from the dirty dust.
Angelus coughed heavily into the elbow of his sleeve.
He looked to his right to where he had last seen William.
Carefully climbing onto his feet, Angelus wiped his teary eyes with his shirt, only to get more dust and dirt into his eyes. "Íosa Críost (Jesus Christ)!" He cursed.
He bent down to remove some of the heavy limestones blocking the exit out from the destroyed room.
As he got closer to clearing an exit, Angelus noticed unmoving fingers under a stone. His brows pinched together and removed the limestone over the body.
"Argh!" Angelus clenched his teeth as he tossed the stones away.
Catching his breath, Angelus looked down to see William's unmoving body. The Army captain's face was bloody, beaten to being almost unrecognisable. A stone laid, crushing William's chest.
Angelus tilted his head slightly with interest as he stared down at the body.
Hate-filled his heart the longer he stared down at William the Bloody. Anger washed over him, knowing that he didn't get the full justice that he thought to have deserved.
Bending down, Angelus struggled to pick up a heavy limestone brick.
Limping over to William's body, Angelus hovered over the dead captain's head and dropped the stone brick.
William's skull crushed underneath the brick. Blood, bites of his combusted skin and skull splattered from underneath the stone.
Angelus slowly walked to the exit and looked back at William's dead, crushed body and smirked, "A Ifreann leat (To Hell with you)." He rounded the corner and manoeuvred between the rubble of broken stones down the hallway to the stairway, which he hoped wasn't destroyed.
Ronan Castle
Walking back into town, Lindsey smiled to himself feeling utterly accomplished. He hoped Lady Darla would be pleased and perhaps now see how much he loves her.
He envisioned a grand reunion when she arrived back from Fort George. She'd jump into his arms, kissing him passionately, showing him the love that was in her heart.
Nest is dead. It's my time now. A sinister grin twitched at the corners of his mouth.
Nearing the castle, Lindsey saw Angelus holding a hand to his side and limping through the entrance area of his home.
Lindsey ran hands through his long hair and worked up the emotions of panic and guilt. Ye 'ave to feel guilty. He has to believe ye. Ye 'ave to feel guilty.
Jogging to the castle, Lindsey mapped out what he was going to say when he inevitably ran into Angelus. He wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead suddenly nervous to face Angelus. Ye can't run scared now. T'is is what Darla wants. Tell 'im. He commanded.
Lost in his mind of 'back and forth', Lindsey failed to notice Angelus standing in the doorway wearing a look of concern on his face.
"Lindsey?"
Lindsey whirled around, startled by his friend's presence. "Angelus," he swallowed his nerves and thought only of what he had to do.
"Where's Buffy? Is she wi' ye or did she forced ye to take her to Fred's? My girl can be quite commandin'," he chuckled then winced reminded of his sore body from the explosion.
Lindsey frowned helping Angelus sit down on the top front step. "What happened? Is Lady Darla safe? Where's Doyle and Wesley?"
Angelus waved Lindsey's offered hand away, not wanting his help. Looking around the darkened town, Angelus frowned, "Perhaps d'ey're still back at the Fort. I didn't come back wi' anyone. T'ere was an explosion. Where's Buffy?" He waited patiently for his friends reply.
Letting his face fall with guilt and sadness, Lindsey looked away.
With a deepening frown, Angelus narrowed his gaze feeling a rise of growing concern. "Lindsey, where's my wife?" He repeated the question slowly.
Lifting his guilted eyes, Lindsey's lips parted as he replied with regret, "I'm so sorry, Angelus."
Getting himself back up onto his feet, holding a hand to his side, Angelus ignored the pain of his throbbing injuries and looked Lindsey straight in the eye, "What? What happened? Where is Buffy?"
"She's… she's not here. She's gone."
"Gone? What does t'at—what does t'at mean?" He stuttered.
Lindsey took a breath contrite, "Angelus…"
Realisation dawned on him, Angelus felt the blood drain from his face, suddenly he felt a chill. It felt as if the entire world moved at a slow warped speed. He could no longer see Lindsey's face. He could hardly register his words.
"No…" he shook his head with disbelief.
"Angelus, my brother, I failed ye." Lindsey looked at Angelus with shame. "I let her out of my sight for a moment. When I heard t'a cannon fire, I stepped outside to see it. I-I was worried about ye and t'a other men, you see… And when I returned, she was gone. I looked around t'a town and t'en I remembered what ye said about O'Ciorovane, so I tracked her t'ere but I was too late. She had already gone."
Lindsey watched Angelus slowly process his explanation. He could see the imaginary wheels cranking in his mind.
"It seems she left ye, Angelus," Lindsey said.
Angelus raised his gaze to Lindsey's face coming to the conclusion that Lindsey's explanation was nothing by farcical. "Preposterous," he headed back into the large castle and shouted, "Buffy! Buffy!" He called out, limping to the bottom of the stairs, "A bhean ghalánta, amaideach, téigh síos anseo an toirt seo (You stubborn, foolish woman, get down here this instant)!" He said with semi-playful annoyance, opening the grounds for one of their bickering arguments. "Buffy?"
"She's not 'ere, Angelus," Lindsey said, almost pleading for Angelus to believe him. "She went back where she belongs, I reckon. It's not 'ere. Not t'is time."
Letting Lindsey's words settle in his mind, Angelus took a deep breath. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to cry or tear the place apart from the castle and destroy anything that was her.
Instead, Angelus quietly nodded his head, "Thank ye, Lindsey. Ye're a good friend." He saw the look in Lindsey's guilty eyes. "Nay, don't blame yerself. T'is day was bound to come. I was a fool to t'ink she'd stay," Angelus turned away, running a hand through his long dark brown hair. "Please, go. I'd like to be alone."
Lindsey nodded glad that Angelus had a clear enough mind to not blame him for Buffy's return to the twenty-first century. "I'll see ya at the Tavern?"
"Aye," he began to walk away from Lindsey, heading to the fireplace, "soon."
Lindsey watched Angelus for another minute before turning away, dismissing himself from the castle home.
As he closed the front door, an air of accomplishment made him skip down the steps. He felt light and free with excitement. T'a witch is gone. He smiled sinisterly wiping his hands clean from any ounce of guilt he might have had for forcing Buffy away and leaving Angelus heartbroken and depressed.
It's been about two hours since he arrived back from Fort George and hearing Lindsey's news that Buffy had gone back to her own time.
Angelus sat in a wooden chair sitting in front of the roaring fireplace. Staring deep into the nothingness in front of him, Angelus let his mind wander.
Buffy left ye. He recounted. She's gone. Back to her own time. Ye knew t'at t'is day would come. Ye knew it. She never belonged 'ere. She never belonged to ye. Angelus told himself. No matter what she had said in the past, she never wanted to stay 'ere… wi' ye. She didn't love ye t'a way ye love her. She waited 'til yer back was turned to finally make her escape.
A pang of deceitful anger ripped through his chest the longer he thought of Buffy and twisted her reasons for leaving him into something of a betrayal.
He replayed all of the moments she announced her love for him. I should've known. I should've seen it in 'er eyes. The glaring stare he held on the flames intensified. She didn't want to be 'ere. She didn't want me. She never wanted t'is. Angelus' lips tightened into a thin line, controlling his anger.
Dark eyes fell from the flames to a maroon leather book in his hand on his lap. He raised the book up to inspect it. He opened it to the page Buffy must've doggy-eared before she left him. Angelus closed the book and stared at it.
Angelus tossed the book into the fire. He sat back for a minute watching the flames engulf the book.
He leaned forward and reached to the side the fireplace taking the hot poker leaning against the stones. Angelus tilted his head slightly to the side as he poked the burning book.
What are ye doin'? Angelus kicked back the wooden chair and knelt down in front of the fireplace. Carefully to avoid being burned, Angelus hissed as he tried to get back the book.
"Cac (Shit)!" He cursed trying to retrieve the severely damaged book. "Íosa Críost (Jesus Christ)!" Angelus waved his hand stung by the burning flames.
He dropped the novel and patted the remaining sizzling flame.
Sitting down fully on his rear, Angelus buried his face into his hands heartbroken and angry that Buffy was no longer with him. He kicked the novel in spite then reached for it, holding it to his chest wanting a piece of her. "Forgive me," he looked down at the burnt damaged novel. "Logh dom, a ghrá (Forgive me, my love)."
2005
Two Months Later
London, England
Apartment
Walking into the unlocked front door, Oz looked up almost running into Giles as he was on his way out.
"Oh, my apologies, Oz," Giles said with an unapologetic smile.
Since Buffy's sudden return, her surrogate father had been gleaming with a grin.
"Hey," Oz said, with a small barely twitching smile. "How's Buffy today?"
Slowly, Giles' smile faded partially taking on a more serious tone. "She's the same. Quiet... distracted. Spike is beginning to lose his patience, I fear. Buffy isn't one to share her mind's thoughts."
Oz nodded in agreement. He figured Buffy still hadn't broken from her melancholy state or shown Spike the 'loving and passionate side' that he so desperately wanted. Just like for the last two months since her return, Oz figured she still hadn't left the small room used as an office, staring at her growing belly in the mirror. He wondered as well what had happened, but unlike Spike and even Giles, Oz knew better than to try to push the information out of her. When she was ready, Oz was confident that she'd open up.
"How's the baby?" Oz asked and watched a small smile curve at Giles' lips, thinking of his grandchild.
"The little one is doing well Buffy says. The heartbeat is strong. And Spike is ever attentive to her." He said with a bit of surprise in his voice. Oz wasn't sure what bothered Giles more, the fact that Buffy had left Spike and had gotten herself impregnated by someone else or the fact that she came back to Spike with a broken heart.
Oz wasn't quite so sure of that question as well.
Giles said his good-byes and walked out of the apartment building entryway.
Heading up the stairs, Oz entered his friend's apartment and closed the door behind him. He glanced into the sitting room to see Spike sitting in an armchair with a glass of Whiskey, staring into space.
Coming out of his mind, Spike lifted his blue gaze to the redhead with a small look of surprise, "Oh, Oz," he said. "Am I late for band practise again?"
Oz shook his head and entered the sitting room, "No, not this time," he tried to joke. "You look like you were thinking hard about something. What's up?"
"Oh, it's nothing. Just thinking about…" he trailed off wanting to lie and say Buffy, but at the tip of his tongue, he had almost said Drusilla.
After Buffy's arrival back to London, Spike promptly broke it off with his dark-haired girlfriend. Evermore determined to make the marriage work with Buffy for the sake of their unborn child that he was excited for when he forced himself to forget that the baby wasn't his.
But the two months of Buffy shutting him out and locking herself away in depression, the stress of the situation was beginning to strain on his patience and his belief in their love. She didn't talk about 'the other man' in her life and Spike never asked about him. He didn't want to know a thing. Not his name. Not if he was tall or the colour of his eyes or the colour of his hair. He didn't want to know if he was English or American or German or Asian or Irish or Scottish or Spanish. Spike didn't want to know.
The distance between them felt like déjà vu. Just when he thought they were making it out of this hurdle of a rut, they were right back in it and this time, it was for something a bit more serious. She was in love with someone else. She had a relationship with someone else for nearly three years.
"She's in the back…" Spike said, looking back out into the nothingness in front of him.
Oz frowned and nodded his head.
Walking down the hallway towards the backroom office, Oz gently knocked on the door and let himself in.
As he opened the door, he stopped watching her stare at herself in the mirror. She held her growing belly that seemed prominent in contrast to her slim petite stature.
A half-smile tugged at his lips. She didn't need to say it but she was looking forward to this baby.
Her eyes snapped to his face and a little smirk touched her lips, "Oz."
"Hey, Buf," he entered the office and closed the door behind him.
"Giles was just here…" she said, rolling down her shirt and finding the chair by the desk.
Oz glanced over her shoulder at the desk tabletop. She had books spread open and papers stacked high to sort out.
"School work?" He asked.
Buffy looked down at the desk then nodded, "Yeah, Giles used his curator clout and got me back in Northbridge. Picking up right where I left off."
"That's great," he said, taking a seat. "How are you doing?"
"Fine," she replied with a bit too much 'enthusiasm' she was forcing out, just as she had with Giles or whenever Spike hovered over her—desperate to know her every thought. "B-busy with school and all…"
"And the baby?"
Her hands rubbed over her small bump for a moment. Oz could see the sadness in her green eyes but ever prideful, Buffy sucked back her tears and forced on a smile. "Good. The doctor says the baby has a very strong heartbeat. I heard it." She flashed him a quivering smile.
Nodding his head and wearing a knowing look on his face that Buffy knew instantly, she forced herself to look 'happy' and not like she was drowning in her tears on most days, "Honestly."
"I believe you." He told her then asked, "Buffy, how are you really doing?"
Buffy's face began to fall with despair despite her best efforts to act like everything was fine and that she was so happy to be back. But no one was buying her act, not even Spike.
"I'm fine… really."
Oz didn't respond. He stayed quiet and watched the cracks of her heartbreak into deeper craters.
"Don't look at me like that Oz." She turned her gaze away from him. "You may think that you know me 'so well', but obviously that's a lie, 'cause I'm telling you… I'm fine. It's the truth."
"And I'll believe you… when you stop lying to yourself and to me, and to everyone around you."
Buffy frowned deeply, growing irritated at his acute abilities to see straight through her. "You don't know what you're talking about. You have no idea what I've been through."
He held up his hands in defence, "I'm not pushing you. Tell me or don't. All I am saying is that I've known you for nine years. I know when you're happy and I know when you're going through the motions and, Buf? You're going through the motions."
By the look on her face, Oz knew he struck a chord. She was unable to deny any of it.
"Talk to Spike." He suggested.
"I can't," she replied, raising her eyes to his face as she twisted her fingers that were on her lap. "I tried. He doesn't wanna know… any of it. He thinks I'm crazy."
"I doubt that."
Buffy bitterly chuckled, "You would too if you knew the truth."
Oz leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and reached out taking her hand on her lap, "You can always talk to me. I won't think you're any crazier than you already are."
He watched a small smile twitch at her lips before it disappeared.
"You say that now."
"No, I say that always." He corrected.
Retracting her hand from his, Buffy crossed her arms, hugging herself. If anyone was to believe you… it would probably be Oz. You can trust him. She told herself. You need to talk about Angel to someone… it was driving her mad to keep this entire other life she's lived to herself. She needed to talk about Angelus.
Toying with the hem of her shirt, Buffy raised her eyes and released a small breath. "I-I don't get how it happened… but somehow I fell through time." She waited for him to scoff and tell her that this explanation was ridiculous, much like Spike had done. But Oz sat quietly, waiting for her to finish. "To the seventeen fifties," she waited again for a reaction and once more, the reaction never came.
Pushing her hair back, Buffy continued, "I was taken by a clan—the Ó Conchobhair clan. Their leader, Angelus—god, I hated him." Oz watched her smile to herself. "He was self-absorbed, cocky, a womaniser, stubborn—We couldn't agree on anything." She let out a small laugh thinking about the early days with the man, who would be her husband. "We drove each other insane. We fought constantly. He thought I was too 'independent and modern'," Buffy shook her head, unable to stop the smile crossing her mouth. "If he only knew, right?"
Oz returned her smile, but he did not interrupt.
Her eyes dropped to her nervous twisting hands. "He wouldn't let me go though. He… they… everyone thought I was a British spy. Me," she pointed to herself. "Can you believe that? He made me work—without pay, I have to add… as a teacher for the local kids. I didn't know what the hell I was doing. But eventually, I enjoyed it." Her mind wandered for a moment thinking about the children she never got to see again. For a brief second, Buffy wondered who had taken over her teaching duties and if they were as good as her. What she had taught them, they would never learn in the educational systems of their day. It was advanced and separate from religion.
"What happened next?" Oz asked, quietly getting back on course.
The tugging smile at the corner of her lips disappeared. She shifted uncomfortably. "Sir Captain William Jonathan Pratt is what happened next…" she lifted her eyes to her best friend.
Oz' brows pinched together, unsure if he heard her correctly.
"It turns out Spike's ancestor was a real piece of work." She stated mildly. "He—Spike… they looked exactly alike. The same eyes and cheekbones and that bad boy sex appeal but William… God, he… Well, he had a long-standing rivalry with Angel. And I was the target for them both. To keep me outta the British prisons because not lonely did everyone in Ireland and England think I was a spy and a witch but so did William. Angel forced me to marry him." She looked at Oz for a moment, letting the weight of her words sink in for a moment in both of their minds. She couldn't talk anymore about the torture William the Bloody put them through. "I… I was married to another man," Buffy said, letting her own words settle in her mind. "The same man I couldn't stand and I was trying to run away from. And we…" she began to twist the silver Claddagh ring around her right-hand ring finger, "… we fell in love. Really in love. I've never…" she cut herself off unable to finish the cruel sentence at the tip of her tongue.
Oz remained silent.
"… I've never felt like that before." She finally admitted and looked up at Oz. "We were really happy—I was really happy. But now he's dead. He had to be a hero and got himself killed." She let out a tearful laugh, "That bastard was so stubborn." Buffy wiped the fallen tear from her cheek.
Oz could see that the weight of her heartbreak and grief was beginning to show. Her eyes were moist and glassy.
"And now I'm back here... and everything here is... hard and loud. Everything I feel, everything I touch is... Just getting through the next moment, and the one after that without... him..." her voice softened as tears trickled from her eyes, "knowing what I've lost..."
She took a deep shaky breath.
"But I think horrible is still coming. Right now, it's worse. Right now, I'm just trying to keep from dying." She released a sob and buried her face into her hands, unable to control the pain and tears ripping her in half.
Oz slid off the chair. He sank to his knees in front of her, wrapping his arms around her body. Her face buried into the crook of his neck as she cried for everything she's lost, for the life she'd never have, and for the love, she'll never be with again.
"I can't breathe, Oz… I feel like I can't breathe," she wept uncontrollably, finally letting herself feel the agonising pain of her broken heart completely.