Disclaimer: None of the characters in "Buffy" belong to me, everyone else does.
Author's Note: This story is the sequel to "Close Your Eyes"; it takes place a month after "Close Your Eyes". It takes place after "Gone"
Author's Note: For later in the chapters, I know the guy's name isn't Rex but just work with me here. It's really Rack but I can't change it, it's a long story. So, just pretend and work with me. :)
Chapter One
Buffy Anne Summers pulled a stake out of her pocket and threw fake punches in the air, balancing on the balls of her feet. She jabbed the stake into the air and retracted it, putting in back in her pocket. She threw a spin-kick into the air and hit the dusty punching bag, causing it to swing around. Brushing the hair out of her eyes, Buffy hit the punching bag with her fist, barely feeling the impact. Buffy brushed her hair behind her ears and watched the punching bag swing around on its rusted chain.
Her sixteen year old sister, Dawn, watched Buffy's training from the doorway. "You've been training almost all day and you still fight like the same old Buffy." Dawn remarked, causing her sister to turn around.
"Dawn, when did you get here?" Buffy asked, grabbing the punching bag and stopping the swinging.
"Just now, Willow sent me over." Dawn answered and walked over to her sister. "She says that you really need to come home." She added.
Buffy nodded. "Okay." She agreed.
Dawn studied her sister. "You're not training this hard every night because you think that you didn't train enough...that you weren't prepared." Dawn asked.
Buffy looked over at her sister. "No." She answered shortly.
"You don't think it's your fault that Darry died, do you?" Dawn asked.
"Dawn, enough." Buffy snapped and walked away from her sister.
Buffy didn't want to look back at her sister; she didn't want Dawn to see the doubt in her eyes about the question. A month ago, one of Buffy's friends and one of the Scobby Gang had died last month in a battle. Buffy wasn't sure if she blamed herself for Darry's death but she knew in some part of her brain that she did, that it was her fault. If Darry had never met her, she wouldn't be dead; if she wasn't the Slayer, Darry would have never gotten mixed up in the whole thing. However, Buffy also knew that it wasn't her fault because there was nothing she could do to save Darry. However, she didn't want Dawn to think that she did blame herself because that would just worry her. Buffy was just returning back to 'normal' and she didn't want Dawn to think otherwise.
Buffy and Dawn left the training room that was in the back of the Magic Box, which was a store that Anya owned, and left. The store was empty and dark, Anya had already closed up for the night. The half-moon shown through the windows, casting cream colored light on the floor. The sisters exited the store and Buffy locked it with her key.
Dawn looked around, giving the bare streets of Sunnydale a once-over, just in case.
"Come on Dawn." Buffy said and walked down the street, glancing back to make sure her sister was trailing behind her. Dawn was, following slightly closer then she usually would, almost grabbing her sister's hand. Buffy couldn't blame Dawn, everyone in the Scobby Gang seemed to be slightly jumpy since last month. Everyone seemed to be more aware of their own mortality now that Darry was dead; everyone really wanted to play safe.
Dawn and Buffy walked to the Summers house without much trouble; Buffy and her sister entered through the kitchen door. Willow was in the kitchen, preparing dinner; she looked up and over at Buffy with a smile.
"Glad to see Dawn talked you into coming home." She said with a smile.
Buffy couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah, couldn't pass up another night of Willow-cooking, burned Willow-cooking that is." Buffy said.
"That sounds like something Kellie would have said." Dawn said, without thinking. Kellie was Darry's cousin, who had left Sunnydale a month ago. In the sense of Kellie leaving, Buffy did blame herself because if she had been able to keep Darry from getting killed, Kellie wouldn't have left. Neither would Oz; Buffy blamed herself the most for Oz leaving. If it hadn't been for her and Willow, Oz would have never come back to Sunnydale, which Buffy knew had been hard for him. However, he had completely been taken with Darry, and vice-versa; it didn't take a genius to see that Oz cared for Darry more then any other person. And Darry had felt the same way, and she had proven it. Darry had died saving Oz from the attack of the villain, who turned out to be her father. Buffy prayed the Oz didn't blame himself for Darry's death, because it wasn't that way at all. However, Oz and Kellie had both left Sunnydale; Kellie had gone back to Snowville, where she had lived before moving to Sunnydale, and Buffy had no idea where Oz went.
However, Buffy didn't want to think too much on the events of the past. No matter how much she thought about them, how many times she dreamed about them at night, they weren't going to change.
That night, after dinner, the residences of the Summers house had their first visitor since Darry's death, or their first visitor since Oz had come back to Sunnydale. It was Amy, to Willow and Buffy's surprise and she held something in her hand.
"I, uh, wasn't planning on stopping by but I want to the graveyard and, well, I found this." Amy said and opened her hand. Rested in her palm was Darry's necklace that she had gotten from Oz for her birthday the day before she died. When her father had killed her, he snapped the necklace off of her neck. Darry had given it back to Oz before she died; Buffy hadn't known that Oz had left it in the graveyard, or maybe it had fallen out of his pocket.
Buffy had to stop herself from snatching the necklace out of Amy's hands; she gently took it from the rat turned human. "Thanks." Buffy said.
Amy seemed to notice the tenseness in the room and everyone staring at her. "Well, I guess I'd better go; Dad starts worrying a lot earlier these days." Amy said. She turned around and left the house, hoping to leave all the stares behind.
Buffy closed the door and looked at the necklace in her hands. "Did Oz leave a number?" Buffy asked, looking up at Willow.
"I don't think so, I don't think Kellie did either." Willow answered, looking down at the necklace that Buffy held.
Without another word, Buffy turned away from the door and headed upstairs; instead of going into her room, she walked the extra flight of stairs to Darry and Kellie's deserted room.
The two beds still sat in their spots, as though they were waiting for Kellie and Darry to return. Darry's night table was bare, like it was when she had gotten it, and covered with a thin film of dust. The top to Kellie's dresser was also bare and covered with a filmy dust; the dresser top had once been covered with pictures.
Oz and Kellie had taken the pictures of Darry, divided among them; most of the pictures had been from Darry's birthday party, which was held the day before she died. Buffy couldn't help but find the irony in that; a birthday was supposed to mean that you had lived for one more year, not die the next day.
Buffy walked over to Darry's night table and placed the necklace atop the dust and turned away. She walked down the stairs and rejoined the rest of the household in the living room.
As Amy strode home, she couldn't help but think of how quickly everything could change in life. She had met Darry, twice, and couldn't help but admire the girl for her constant cheeriness and indomitable sense of courage that she seemed to have around her.
Amy felt her mind wander as she thought about Willow; she had changed as well, from the magick loving, and magick using, girl she had once known to a normal person. Amy knew Buffy was to blame for that, as was she; if she hadn't taken Willow to see Rex then she would have never gotten in trouble with Sunnydale's very own Slayer.
Amy stopped in her tracks and thought for a minute; Rex was a very powerful Warlock, even more powerful then she was herself. And maybe even more powerful then Willow, or when Willow was a witch. Maybe Rex was even powerful enough to raise the dead; Amy couldn't help but let her mind wander to that possibility. Would that help? Of course it would because, well, Buffy and the others seemed so upset without Darry, more then upset. But, would Rex even bring Darry back? Amy was sure that he could and there was only one way to find out.
Amy turned and changed her way, instead of going home; she headed to the alley where Rex was. She easily found the 'secret portal' and entered the house where Rex and other magick junkies often lived.
One man who was only a few years older then she was, was sitting in one of the doctor's office like chairs; he had large bags under his eyes and his breathing came out in short rasps.
Amy looked away from the man and headed toward the door that lead to Rex's quarter.
"Wait, wait in line." The man said, standing up from his chair and walking angrily over to Amy.
Amy turned around but before she had a chance to say anything, the door opened and Rex stepped out.
Both Amy and the man turned around to see him. "Amy, my darling, so good of you to come." Rex said, his voice, thick like velvet.
The man stepped forward, buzzing as though he felt the magick already pulsing through his veins. "Fill me with your magick now, Rex, I have waited." He said.
Rex raised his hand and pushed the man back with an invisible shove. "You will wait longer." He said and looked over at Amy. "This way, my darling girl." Rex suggested and held the door open for her.
Amy and Rex entered the room and the door shut behind them, pushed by an invisible force. Rex turned to Amy. "What can I do for you, Amy?" Rex asked.
Amy looked over at him. "I need to ask you a favor, a really big favor actually." Amy began and looked over at Rex.
"Oh yes, I see now: a friend of yours has just died and you wish to bring her back to the land of the living. Am I correct?" Rex asked.
Amy nodded, slightly impressed by Rex's insight. "Yes, I know it would please Buffy and the others if she were to be brought back." Amy said.
"Yes but Buffy, the Slayer, is was the one who made the little Strawberry, your redheaded friend, leave. She had such power." Rex muttered. He looked over at Amy and saw the hope in her eyes. "But, I can see it would also please you. I can do it, but a few things are needed." Rex said.
"Of course." Amy said. "What?" She asked, aware that she didn't know what it was he wanted.
"Just a simple thing, the Urn of Oiris. Strawberry and her pals who own a shop in the city have the broken pieces of one. You must bring them to me; I can reconstruct it with magick. Once I have the Urn then I can bring your friend back to life." Rex said.
Amy nodded. "I'll go in the morning." She promised. Amy turned and left the room, shutting the door behind her. She left Rex's hideaway and slipping through the alley, making her way back home.
The next day, Amy headed to the Magic Box to find that Anya, Buffy and Willow were there.
Buffy looked up, slightly surprised that Amy had made an appearance two days in a row. There was obviously something that she wanted; Amy knew that Buffy or at least one of the Scooby Gang was sure to be there.
"Amy, can we help you?" Buffy asked.
Anya left her spot from behind the counter and walked over to Amy. "No, I work here I will help. Except, I don't like you very much so Buffy can help you." Anya said, the words coming out in a rush as she returned to her spot behind the counter.
"Exactly," Amy said, looking for the right words to say, "I was looking for something to buy." It was the first thing she could think of and felt slightly bad about duping the cheerful Anya.
Anya bounced over to her and said, "Yes, how can I help you?"
Amy looked around the store. "I need a, uh, book about, uh, cooking. Cooking using magick." Amy said.
Anya thought for a minute. "I don't know if we have one, let me check." Anya said and walked away from Amy.
Willow bowed her head and returned to flipping through books laid out on the table. Buffy glanced uncertiantly over at Amy and then returned back to the books as well.
Amy looked around and realized that now was the prefect time to find the broken pot. However, she had no idea where it would be; she looked around again and saw a door that led to either a storage room or a basement. Perhaps the pot, or Urn as Rex called it, would be in there.
As quietly as she could, Amy snuck away from the table and headed toward the door. She turned the knob and slowly opened the door. She slipped into the room, which was indeed a basement; things littered the rusty metal shelves that looked like they belonged in the shop itself.
Amy looked around and flinched slightly when she saw a mummy hand crawling around on a box that was labeled: Do Not Enter. Amy decided to take the advice written on the box.
Scattered on the floor by the box was a dust colored pot, broken into about five pieces. Amy guessed that was the Urn that Rex needed. She walked over to the box and picked up the pieces of the pot and cradled them in her hands.
She looked around, looking for a back way out; she doubted she could explain why she was carrying the broken remains of a pot. A pot that Willow nodoubtly would recognize.
There was a back exit, Amy saw the red letters in the gloom. She headed toward it, being careful not to drop the pieces and left the Magic Box.
Anya returned, carrying a book in her arms. She looked around, frowning when she didn't see Amy. "Where did she go?" Anya asked.
Willow looked up. "I didn't see her leave." She remarked.
"I doubt that Amy was here because of that book; I don't know what it is but I think she's up to something." Buffy muttered.
Amy carried the broken pieces and entered Rex's abode and entered the room where he gave magick junkies their 'buzz'. Rex wasn't surprised to see her as he turned around, magickal energy sparked from his fingertips.
"Amy, my dear girl, I see you have brought me what I asked for." Rex said and looked down at the broken remains.
Amy carried the pieces of the pot over to Rex and laid them on the table behind him. "You'll use the pot to bring Darry back to life, right?" Amy asked.
Rex laughed. "My darling girl, someone of my magick standing doesn't need the pot to restore life to the dead. Now, I see that your friend Willow had to use this pot to restore the life to the Slayer but she was weak. No, I will use this Urn for something more important then bringing a body back to life." Rex said and fingered the pieces of the Urn carefully.
"What?" Amy asked, uncertain that she wanted to know and uncertain that Rex would even tell her.
Indeed Rex didn't answer but turned to face Amy with a scowl on his sometimes hideous features. "Does it matter?" He asked sharply. "Do you want your mortal friend back to life or not?" Rex snapped.
Amy nodded. "I didn't mean to...cross my boundaries. Yes, I do want you to bring her back to life, please." Amy pleaded, thinking that Rex wouldn't agree to bring Darry back.
Rex laughed at Amy's child-like behavior. "My dear girl, you must leave me then." He said, his laughter dying away and his normal, rough voice returning. "I will bring Darry, as you call her, back to life." Rex agreed.
Amy grinned. "What can I do to repay you?" Amy asked, not sure she should have asked but the words came out before she had a chance to think about them.
Rex chuckled again, not a happy chuckle, however. "In do time, girl, all in do time." He answered.
For most of the day, Amy waiting around the cemetery to see if Darry was indeed alive. Then, it occurred to her that Rex might not bring her back until the night, so Amy decided to leave the cemetery until then.
Buffy bounced on the balls of her feet and looked over at her sister, who was talking away on the phone, at the kitchen table. Dawn was talking to Steven, her boyfriend who she had met at school and who had asked her to the Christmas party. In turn, Dawn had invited him to the Christmas party that Buffy held, here in the house.
Buffy stared impatiently as Dawn continued to chatter to Steven. "Come on Dawn, we have to meet the people at Social Service office in," Buffy glanced at the kitchen clock, "ten minutes." She said.
Dawn shot her sister a look and then said into the phone, "I have to go, Steven, but I'll call you when I get back." She hit the 'off' button and looked over at Buffy. "There, happy now?" Dawn asked.
"Yes, but know we only have nine minutes left to get there and the social worker people won't think I'm a fit guardian if I can't even get you there on time." Buffy snapped. "Come on." Buffy said.
Dawn stood up and followed her sister out the kitchen door.
As night began to descend in Sunnydale, Amy found herself caught up at home so she couldn't return to the cemetery. Buffy and Dawn were stuck at the Social Services office because Buffy was forced to answer the same questions over and over. However, while the other members of the Scooby Gang and whatnot found some reason to keep them from leaving the house, Rex left his hideaway and walked slowly to the cemetery.
He arrived and stood in front of Darry's grave. He couldn't help but read the engraving, made more distinct by the moonlight.
Rex pulled a pouch, made out of dead animal skin, out of his pocket and opened. He took a hand full of the herbs and whatnot that were inside the bag and sprinkled them around Darry's gravestone.
He raised his hands and began to chant words in Latin, words almost impossible to hear by anyone except him. However, the words were heard loud and clear by the Underworld and the Powers That Be because lightning began streak across the sky in spiderweb like patterns.
A strong wind began to pick up, rustling the branches of trees nearby; creatures in the woods behind the cemetery shrieked and began to race from their hiding places. The lightning began to turn dark shades of red and purple as the bolts streaked across the sky.
Rex continued to chant in Latin, his voice growing louder and more forceful with each syllable he spoke.
As quickly as it started, the lightning and wind stopped and all became still. Rex lowered his hands and stared down at Darry's grave. It was completed, when the girl should rise was not up to him. Only time would tell.
First, she felt the overwhelming urge that she should run; then she felt like she should be somewhere else, doing something else. However, Daralyn Alicia Moore didn't know exactly where she was or exactly what she was doing there. Then she felt the strangest sensation, a soft, plush material beneath her fingers. She was surprised because had the overwhelming sense that she hadn't felt anything in a very long time.
She moved her fingers and rubbed the material on her fingertips and on her palms. Slowly, everything began to come back and fill her head; it was more then she could handle at the moment, thoughts poured into her head like the pounding of a waterfall.
Everything came back; she had died, how long ago she didn't know but she knew that she had died at the hand of her father. Then she remembered Oz; at that thought it felt as though her heart had been placed back inside her body. Oz, she couldn't take her mind off him; she loved him, with all her heart and she had left him for however long. Then she thought of Kellie, her cousin that had moved to Sunnydale to be with her after her parents died in a car accident. What had happened to Kellie?
Darry thought about Buffy and the rest of the Scooby Gang, even Spike, who was her cousin's vampire beau. Darry opened her eyes and all she saw was dark. At first, she thought that her eyes were still closed but slowly she began to take in a picture.
Above her was a white material that looked like the kind of material that she felt under her fingers. After a second, Darry realized where she was; she was buried in a coffin, underground.
Unable to stop herself, her breaths came out in short gasps and her now-beating heart was pounding her chest. She was buried, in a coffin; buried, that thought screamed in her head.
'I can't die!' Her head screamed. 'Not again!' Darry raised her hands and clawed at the soft material above her. Her clawing was frantic so she was unable to get purchase on the material; her fingers kept slipping and falling onto her chest. Darry felt hot tears run down her cheeks as she distraughtly tried to grab hold of the material and tear it.
Finally, she snagged a small tear and ripped it away, revealing the polished top of the coffin. Darry nearly screamed in anguish and knew she would never be able to break the lid of the coffin.
She lowered her hands and slightly hung her head in defeat, feeling a cold shudder run along her back as she thought about what it was going to be like to die a second time. The first time had hurt, a lot, but she didn't know if suffocating would hurt as much, if at all.
She cried as she thought about how she would never see Oz or Kellie or Buffy or, God, even Spike again. She couldn't help but think 'Now I won't have another funeral, no more flowers' even though she had no idea why.
She was about to give up completely when she remembered that perhaps her legs would be able to kick through the coffin lid. Darry lifted her left leg as though she was testing it out; once she saw that she could indeed lift it, she gave the coffin lid a powerful kick.
She heard the vague sound of splintering wood and nearly grinned. She lifted her right leg as well and kicked with both legs. Bits of wood fell onto the material beneath her. Darry kicked again and a little bit of dirt showered onto her legs.
With a mad deterimation, Darry gave the coffin lid a final kick and the wood broke, showering dirt onto her legs and thigh.
Darry realized that she wouldn't be able to get out, since there was probably thickly packed dirt above her. Plus, her head and upper body was still under the coffin lid.
She slowly begin to retract her legs under her so she had room to slowly go forward. It took a little while because she didn't have much room to move and she was getting a little short of breath. However, she finally was able to look at the dirt above her.
She began to claw at the dirt and realized that her fingers were bloody, no doubt from clawing at the material above her. However, she had to ignore the pain as she clawed her way through the dirt.
Finally, she felt her hands break surface and she frantically pulled herself up. She nearly gasped when she saw the ground above but stopped herself because she didn't want to breath in any dirt.
She pulled herself free from the confides of the tomb and sobbed as she sucked in the clean Sunnydale air. She rested her head on the grass and felt her tears trickle onto the ground.
She was alive, though she didn't know how but at the moment it didn't really matter.
Author's Note: This story is the sequel to "Close Your Eyes"; it takes place a month after "Close Your Eyes". It takes place after "Gone"
Author's Note: For later in the chapters, I know the guy's name isn't Rex but just work with me here. It's really Rack but I can't change it, it's a long story. So, just pretend and work with me. :)
Chapter One
Buffy Anne Summers pulled a stake out of her pocket and threw fake punches in the air, balancing on the balls of her feet. She jabbed the stake into the air and retracted it, putting in back in her pocket. She threw a spin-kick into the air and hit the dusty punching bag, causing it to swing around. Brushing the hair out of her eyes, Buffy hit the punching bag with her fist, barely feeling the impact. Buffy brushed her hair behind her ears and watched the punching bag swing around on its rusted chain.
Her sixteen year old sister, Dawn, watched Buffy's training from the doorway. "You've been training almost all day and you still fight like the same old Buffy." Dawn remarked, causing her sister to turn around.
"Dawn, when did you get here?" Buffy asked, grabbing the punching bag and stopping the swinging.
"Just now, Willow sent me over." Dawn answered and walked over to her sister. "She says that you really need to come home." She added.
Buffy nodded. "Okay." She agreed.
Dawn studied her sister. "You're not training this hard every night because you think that you didn't train enough...that you weren't prepared." Dawn asked.
Buffy looked over at her sister. "No." She answered shortly.
"You don't think it's your fault that Darry died, do you?" Dawn asked.
"Dawn, enough." Buffy snapped and walked away from her sister.
Buffy didn't want to look back at her sister; she didn't want Dawn to see the doubt in her eyes about the question. A month ago, one of Buffy's friends and one of the Scobby Gang had died last month in a battle. Buffy wasn't sure if she blamed herself for Darry's death but she knew in some part of her brain that she did, that it was her fault. If Darry had never met her, she wouldn't be dead; if she wasn't the Slayer, Darry would have never gotten mixed up in the whole thing. However, Buffy also knew that it wasn't her fault because there was nothing she could do to save Darry. However, she didn't want Dawn to think that she did blame herself because that would just worry her. Buffy was just returning back to 'normal' and she didn't want Dawn to think otherwise.
Buffy and Dawn left the training room that was in the back of the Magic Box, which was a store that Anya owned, and left. The store was empty and dark, Anya had already closed up for the night. The half-moon shown through the windows, casting cream colored light on the floor. The sisters exited the store and Buffy locked it with her key.
Dawn looked around, giving the bare streets of Sunnydale a once-over, just in case.
"Come on Dawn." Buffy said and walked down the street, glancing back to make sure her sister was trailing behind her. Dawn was, following slightly closer then she usually would, almost grabbing her sister's hand. Buffy couldn't blame Dawn, everyone in the Scobby Gang seemed to be slightly jumpy since last month. Everyone seemed to be more aware of their own mortality now that Darry was dead; everyone really wanted to play safe.
Dawn and Buffy walked to the Summers house without much trouble; Buffy and her sister entered through the kitchen door. Willow was in the kitchen, preparing dinner; she looked up and over at Buffy with a smile.
"Glad to see Dawn talked you into coming home." She said with a smile.
Buffy couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah, couldn't pass up another night of Willow-cooking, burned Willow-cooking that is." Buffy said.
"That sounds like something Kellie would have said." Dawn said, without thinking. Kellie was Darry's cousin, who had left Sunnydale a month ago. In the sense of Kellie leaving, Buffy did blame herself because if she had been able to keep Darry from getting killed, Kellie wouldn't have left. Neither would Oz; Buffy blamed herself the most for Oz leaving. If it hadn't been for her and Willow, Oz would have never come back to Sunnydale, which Buffy knew had been hard for him. However, he had completely been taken with Darry, and vice-versa; it didn't take a genius to see that Oz cared for Darry more then any other person. And Darry had felt the same way, and she had proven it. Darry had died saving Oz from the attack of the villain, who turned out to be her father. Buffy prayed the Oz didn't blame himself for Darry's death, because it wasn't that way at all. However, Oz and Kellie had both left Sunnydale; Kellie had gone back to Snowville, where she had lived before moving to Sunnydale, and Buffy had no idea where Oz went.
However, Buffy didn't want to think too much on the events of the past. No matter how much she thought about them, how many times she dreamed about them at night, they weren't going to change.
That night, after dinner, the residences of the Summers house had their first visitor since Darry's death, or their first visitor since Oz had come back to Sunnydale. It was Amy, to Willow and Buffy's surprise and she held something in her hand.
"I, uh, wasn't planning on stopping by but I want to the graveyard and, well, I found this." Amy said and opened her hand. Rested in her palm was Darry's necklace that she had gotten from Oz for her birthday the day before she died. When her father had killed her, he snapped the necklace off of her neck. Darry had given it back to Oz before she died; Buffy hadn't known that Oz had left it in the graveyard, or maybe it had fallen out of his pocket.
Buffy had to stop herself from snatching the necklace out of Amy's hands; she gently took it from the rat turned human. "Thanks." Buffy said.
Amy seemed to notice the tenseness in the room and everyone staring at her. "Well, I guess I'd better go; Dad starts worrying a lot earlier these days." Amy said. She turned around and left the house, hoping to leave all the stares behind.
Buffy closed the door and looked at the necklace in her hands. "Did Oz leave a number?" Buffy asked, looking up at Willow.
"I don't think so, I don't think Kellie did either." Willow answered, looking down at the necklace that Buffy held.
Without another word, Buffy turned away from the door and headed upstairs; instead of going into her room, she walked the extra flight of stairs to Darry and Kellie's deserted room.
The two beds still sat in their spots, as though they were waiting for Kellie and Darry to return. Darry's night table was bare, like it was when she had gotten it, and covered with a thin film of dust. The top to Kellie's dresser was also bare and covered with a filmy dust; the dresser top had once been covered with pictures.
Oz and Kellie had taken the pictures of Darry, divided among them; most of the pictures had been from Darry's birthday party, which was held the day before she died. Buffy couldn't help but find the irony in that; a birthday was supposed to mean that you had lived for one more year, not die the next day.
Buffy walked over to Darry's night table and placed the necklace atop the dust and turned away. She walked down the stairs and rejoined the rest of the household in the living room.
As Amy strode home, she couldn't help but think of how quickly everything could change in life. She had met Darry, twice, and couldn't help but admire the girl for her constant cheeriness and indomitable sense of courage that she seemed to have around her.
Amy felt her mind wander as she thought about Willow; she had changed as well, from the magick loving, and magick using, girl she had once known to a normal person. Amy knew Buffy was to blame for that, as was she; if she hadn't taken Willow to see Rex then she would have never gotten in trouble with Sunnydale's very own Slayer.
Amy stopped in her tracks and thought for a minute; Rex was a very powerful Warlock, even more powerful then she was herself. And maybe even more powerful then Willow, or when Willow was a witch. Maybe Rex was even powerful enough to raise the dead; Amy couldn't help but let her mind wander to that possibility. Would that help? Of course it would because, well, Buffy and the others seemed so upset without Darry, more then upset. But, would Rex even bring Darry back? Amy was sure that he could and there was only one way to find out.
Amy turned and changed her way, instead of going home; she headed to the alley where Rex was. She easily found the 'secret portal' and entered the house where Rex and other magick junkies often lived.
One man who was only a few years older then she was, was sitting in one of the doctor's office like chairs; he had large bags under his eyes and his breathing came out in short rasps.
Amy looked away from the man and headed toward the door that lead to Rex's quarter.
"Wait, wait in line." The man said, standing up from his chair and walking angrily over to Amy.
Amy turned around but before she had a chance to say anything, the door opened and Rex stepped out.
Both Amy and the man turned around to see him. "Amy, my darling, so good of you to come." Rex said, his voice, thick like velvet.
The man stepped forward, buzzing as though he felt the magick already pulsing through his veins. "Fill me with your magick now, Rex, I have waited." He said.
Rex raised his hand and pushed the man back with an invisible shove. "You will wait longer." He said and looked over at Amy. "This way, my darling girl." Rex suggested and held the door open for her.
Amy and Rex entered the room and the door shut behind them, pushed by an invisible force. Rex turned to Amy. "What can I do for you, Amy?" Rex asked.
Amy looked over at him. "I need to ask you a favor, a really big favor actually." Amy began and looked over at Rex.
"Oh yes, I see now: a friend of yours has just died and you wish to bring her back to the land of the living. Am I correct?" Rex asked.
Amy nodded, slightly impressed by Rex's insight. "Yes, I know it would please Buffy and the others if she were to be brought back." Amy said.
"Yes but Buffy, the Slayer, is was the one who made the little Strawberry, your redheaded friend, leave. She had such power." Rex muttered. He looked over at Amy and saw the hope in her eyes. "But, I can see it would also please you. I can do it, but a few things are needed." Rex said.
"Of course." Amy said. "What?" She asked, aware that she didn't know what it was he wanted.
"Just a simple thing, the Urn of Oiris. Strawberry and her pals who own a shop in the city have the broken pieces of one. You must bring them to me; I can reconstruct it with magick. Once I have the Urn then I can bring your friend back to life." Rex said.
Amy nodded. "I'll go in the morning." She promised. Amy turned and left the room, shutting the door behind her. She left Rex's hideaway and slipping through the alley, making her way back home.
The next day, Amy headed to the Magic Box to find that Anya, Buffy and Willow were there.
Buffy looked up, slightly surprised that Amy had made an appearance two days in a row. There was obviously something that she wanted; Amy knew that Buffy or at least one of the Scooby Gang was sure to be there.
"Amy, can we help you?" Buffy asked.
Anya left her spot from behind the counter and walked over to Amy. "No, I work here I will help. Except, I don't like you very much so Buffy can help you." Anya said, the words coming out in a rush as she returned to her spot behind the counter.
"Exactly," Amy said, looking for the right words to say, "I was looking for something to buy." It was the first thing she could think of and felt slightly bad about duping the cheerful Anya.
Anya bounced over to her and said, "Yes, how can I help you?"
Amy looked around the store. "I need a, uh, book about, uh, cooking. Cooking using magick." Amy said.
Anya thought for a minute. "I don't know if we have one, let me check." Anya said and walked away from Amy.
Willow bowed her head and returned to flipping through books laid out on the table. Buffy glanced uncertiantly over at Amy and then returned back to the books as well.
Amy looked around and realized that now was the prefect time to find the broken pot. However, she had no idea where it would be; she looked around again and saw a door that led to either a storage room or a basement. Perhaps the pot, or Urn as Rex called it, would be in there.
As quietly as she could, Amy snuck away from the table and headed toward the door. She turned the knob and slowly opened the door. She slipped into the room, which was indeed a basement; things littered the rusty metal shelves that looked like they belonged in the shop itself.
Amy looked around and flinched slightly when she saw a mummy hand crawling around on a box that was labeled: Do Not Enter. Amy decided to take the advice written on the box.
Scattered on the floor by the box was a dust colored pot, broken into about five pieces. Amy guessed that was the Urn that Rex needed. She walked over to the box and picked up the pieces of the pot and cradled them in her hands.
She looked around, looking for a back way out; she doubted she could explain why she was carrying the broken remains of a pot. A pot that Willow nodoubtly would recognize.
There was a back exit, Amy saw the red letters in the gloom. She headed toward it, being careful not to drop the pieces and left the Magic Box.
Anya returned, carrying a book in her arms. She looked around, frowning when she didn't see Amy. "Where did she go?" Anya asked.
Willow looked up. "I didn't see her leave." She remarked.
"I doubt that Amy was here because of that book; I don't know what it is but I think she's up to something." Buffy muttered.
Amy carried the broken pieces and entered Rex's abode and entered the room where he gave magick junkies their 'buzz'. Rex wasn't surprised to see her as he turned around, magickal energy sparked from his fingertips.
"Amy, my dear girl, I see you have brought me what I asked for." Rex said and looked down at the broken remains.
Amy carried the pieces of the pot over to Rex and laid them on the table behind him. "You'll use the pot to bring Darry back to life, right?" Amy asked.
Rex laughed. "My darling girl, someone of my magick standing doesn't need the pot to restore life to the dead. Now, I see that your friend Willow had to use this pot to restore the life to the Slayer but she was weak. No, I will use this Urn for something more important then bringing a body back to life." Rex said and fingered the pieces of the Urn carefully.
"What?" Amy asked, uncertain that she wanted to know and uncertain that Rex would even tell her.
Indeed Rex didn't answer but turned to face Amy with a scowl on his sometimes hideous features. "Does it matter?" He asked sharply. "Do you want your mortal friend back to life or not?" Rex snapped.
Amy nodded. "I didn't mean to...cross my boundaries. Yes, I do want you to bring her back to life, please." Amy pleaded, thinking that Rex wouldn't agree to bring Darry back.
Rex laughed at Amy's child-like behavior. "My dear girl, you must leave me then." He said, his laughter dying away and his normal, rough voice returning. "I will bring Darry, as you call her, back to life." Rex agreed.
Amy grinned. "What can I do to repay you?" Amy asked, not sure she should have asked but the words came out before she had a chance to think about them.
Rex chuckled again, not a happy chuckle, however. "In do time, girl, all in do time." He answered.
For most of the day, Amy waiting around the cemetery to see if Darry was indeed alive. Then, it occurred to her that Rex might not bring her back until the night, so Amy decided to leave the cemetery until then.
Buffy bounced on the balls of her feet and looked over at her sister, who was talking away on the phone, at the kitchen table. Dawn was talking to Steven, her boyfriend who she had met at school and who had asked her to the Christmas party. In turn, Dawn had invited him to the Christmas party that Buffy held, here in the house.
Buffy stared impatiently as Dawn continued to chatter to Steven. "Come on Dawn, we have to meet the people at Social Service office in," Buffy glanced at the kitchen clock, "ten minutes." She said.
Dawn shot her sister a look and then said into the phone, "I have to go, Steven, but I'll call you when I get back." She hit the 'off' button and looked over at Buffy. "There, happy now?" Dawn asked.
"Yes, but know we only have nine minutes left to get there and the social worker people won't think I'm a fit guardian if I can't even get you there on time." Buffy snapped. "Come on." Buffy said.
Dawn stood up and followed her sister out the kitchen door.
As night began to descend in Sunnydale, Amy found herself caught up at home so she couldn't return to the cemetery. Buffy and Dawn were stuck at the Social Services office because Buffy was forced to answer the same questions over and over. However, while the other members of the Scooby Gang and whatnot found some reason to keep them from leaving the house, Rex left his hideaway and walked slowly to the cemetery.
He arrived and stood in front of Darry's grave. He couldn't help but read the engraving, made more distinct by the moonlight.
Rex pulled a pouch, made out of dead animal skin, out of his pocket and opened. He took a hand full of the herbs and whatnot that were inside the bag and sprinkled them around Darry's gravestone.
He raised his hands and began to chant words in Latin, words almost impossible to hear by anyone except him. However, the words were heard loud and clear by the Underworld and the Powers That Be because lightning began streak across the sky in spiderweb like patterns.
A strong wind began to pick up, rustling the branches of trees nearby; creatures in the woods behind the cemetery shrieked and began to race from their hiding places. The lightning began to turn dark shades of red and purple as the bolts streaked across the sky.
Rex continued to chant in Latin, his voice growing louder and more forceful with each syllable he spoke.
As quickly as it started, the lightning and wind stopped and all became still. Rex lowered his hands and stared down at Darry's grave. It was completed, when the girl should rise was not up to him. Only time would tell.
First, she felt the overwhelming urge that she should run; then she felt like she should be somewhere else, doing something else. However, Daralyn Alicia Moore didn't know exactly where she was or exactly what she was doing there. Then she felt the strangest sensation, a soft, plush material beneath her fingers. She was surprised because had the overwhelming sense that she hadn't felt anything in a very long time.
She moved her fingers and rubbed the material on her fingertips and on her palms. Slowly, everything began to come back and fill her head; it was more then she could handle at the moment, thoughts poured into her head like the pounding of a waterfall.
Everything came back; she had died, how long ago she didn't know but she knew that she had died at the hand of her father. Then she remembered Oz; at that thought it felt as though her heart had been placed back inside her body. Oz, she couldn't take her mind off him; she loved him, with all her heart and she had left him for however long. Then she thought of Kellie, her cousin that had moved to Sunnydale to be with her after her parents died in a car accident. What had happened to Kellie?
Darry thought about Buffy and the rest of the Scooby Gang, even Spike, who was her cousin's vampire beau. Darry opened her eyes and all she saw was dark. At first, she thought that her eyes were still closed but slowly she began to take in a picture.
Above her was a white material that looked like the kind of material that she felt under her fingers. After a second, Darry realized where she was; she was buried in a coffin, underground.
Unable to stop herself, her breaths came out in short gasps and her now-beating heart was pounding her chest. She was buried, in a coffin; buried, that thought screamed in her head.
'I can't die!' Her head screamed. 'Not again!' Darry raised her hands and clawed at the soft material above her. Her clawing was frantic so she was unable to get purchase on the material; her fingers kept slipping and falling onto her chest. Darry felt hot tears run down her cheeks as she distraughtly tried to grab hold of the material and tear it.
Finally, she snagged a small tear and ripped it away, revealing the polished top of the coffin. Darry nearly screamed in anguish and knew she would never be able to break the lid of the coffin.
She lowered her hands and slightly hung her head in defeat, feeling a cold shudder run along her back as she thought about what it was going to be like to die a second time. The first time had hurt, a lot, but she didn't know if suffocating would hurt as much, if at all.
She cried as she thought about how she would never see Oz or Kellie or Buffy or, God, even Spike again. She couldn't help but think 'Now I won't have another funeral, no more flowers' even though she had no idea why.
She was about to give up completely when she remembered that perhaps her legs would be able to kick through the coffin lid. Darry lifted her left leg as though she was testing it out; once she saw that she could indeed lift it, she gave the coffin lid a powerful kick.
She heard the vague sound of splintering wood and nearly grinned. She lifted her right leg as well and kicked with both legs. Bits of wood fell onto the material beneath her. Darry kicked again and a little bit of dirt showered onto her legs.
With a mad deterimation, Darry gave the coffin lid a final kick and the wood broke, showering dirt onto her legs and thigh.
Darry realized that she wouldn't be able to get out, since there was probably thickly packed dirt above her. Plus, her head and upper body was still under the coffin lid.
She slowly begin to retract her legs under her so she had room to slowly go forward. It took a little while because she didn't have much room to move and she was getting a little short of breath. However, she finally was able to look at the dirt above her.
She began to claw at the dirt and realized that her fingers were bloody, no doubt from clawing at the material above her. However, she had to ignore the pain as she clawed her way through the dirt.
Finally, she felt her hands break surface and she frantically pulled herself up. She nearly gasped when she saw the ground above but stopped herself because she didn't want to breath in any dirt.
She pulled herself free from the confides of the tomb and sobbed as she sucked in the clean Sunnydale air. She rested her head on the grass and felt her tears trickle onto the ground.
She was alive, though she didn't know how but at the moment it didn't really matter.
