Although I do have plans to write stories that sort of pick up from where this left off.
Anyway... keep your eyes peeled, I'm sure I will get around to continuing this timeline in the near future.
Oh, and in case you hadn't guessed yet, I thrive on feedback.
now more than ever I would like to hear it, especialy since you
have the whole story to go on.
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Epilogue
Giles carefully pushed open the door and stepped into the room, concealing his surprise as he observed the living conditions. Buffy hadn't been exaggerating when she'd described them. Robert sat at a small table, book and several crystals in front of him. As Giles entered he looked up at him.
"She's gone, you know." Giles said.
"Gone?" Robert asked.
Giles nodded. "Sometime in the night." He said. "Buffy's gone to the Bus depot, and Oz is searching the train station. But I suspect she's already long gone."
"I can see why she'd want to get away from here." Robert said.
"But we need to find her." Giles stated. "Buffy told me what happened, but I still have to ask. Is there anything you can do to help find her?"
Robert shook his head. "Not now. I probably could have found her before, but.... I'm no use to you now." He sighed.
"You really have no magic at all?" Giles asked.
"I've been trying all night." Robert said. "I can't see anything, I can't do anything. Nothing. Not glamours, not even the simplest of spells. Some words in this book trigger spells when simply read aloud, by anyone. I can't even trigger those."
"It must be quite an adjustment." Giles observed.
"It's like the sight that I've had my whole life has suddenly been stripped from me and I'm left to fumble around in the darkness. It's more than an adjustment."
"left to fumble around in the darkness like everyone else has their whole lives." Giles corrected. "Believe it or not I do know a thing or two about rude awakenings. If it's pity you want then you can have mine. However if you want my gratitude for what you've done then take that, and make yourself worthy of my respect so that I can give that to you too."
Robert straightened up slightly where he sat. "What do you need?"
"At the moment, nothing." Giles said. "But we may soon need all the help we can get. Despite your lack of ability, your knowledge of magic may be quite useful."
"If you need me, you know where I am." Robert said.
"Speaking of knowledge..." Giles said. "I meant to ask where you learnt that spell. If what Buffy told me was at all accurate then it was invocation of the highest order. Where did you learn it?"
"That's the strange part." Robert replied. "I never learnt it. It was just... There."
"How is such a thing possible?" Giles asked.
"It took me the better part of the night to figure it out, inbetween my futile magical attempts. I have my master to thank for that. He, as far as I can tell, planted it. I don't know how he knew that it would be needed, I don't even know how he put it there without me knowing about it, but he did."
"Intriguing." Giles said. "He sounds quite remarkable."
"Crafty old man." Robert said. "You would have liked him. But he's not with us anymore."
"I'm sorry." Giles said.
"No need to be." Robert said. "You weren't to know."
"Well..." Giles said, slightly awkwardly. "I'm sure you could use some space to adjust. If you don't mind I'll retreat so I can get my foot out of my mouth."
Robert waited until Giles had almost reached the door before he spoke.
"Y'know, you're not that bad..." He said. "For watchers council." The tone of voice betrayed it for the hard given compliment that it was, rather than any backhanded insult.
"No. I don't suppose that I am." Giles replied, suppressing with a practised ease the infectious grin that threatened to erupt on his face. "I shall have to work on that."
"You do that." Robert said. And, if only for a moment, he managed
a smile.
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For the longest time there was nothingness.
Well, without any way to measure it Xander had no idea how long it was. But there was nothingness, and an awful lot of it. And something seemed to be sharing the nothingness with him.
As Xander focused on this something, details about it became apparent.
It was almost as if the thing was using his concentration on it to form
before him. He even had an image of it, and he couldn't mistake the visually
repugnant clothes for anything else..
"I wondered how long it would take you to notice me." Whistler didn't exactly speak, but Xander perceived it as a sound.
"I'm dead, aren't I?" Xander asked.
"Yup." Whistler responded. "You're dust."
"You're not dead though." Xander said.
"Kid's two for two." Whistler said back. "If it helps you can visualise me sitting over a ouija board. The reality's a little more complex than that, but as visualisations go it's not too far off. However as much as I'd like to play twenty questions with you, it's not going to get us anywhere."
"So what happens then?" Xander asked.
"Just sit.... err, relax, and let me do the explaining. I'm sure you'll have more than enough questions without trying to second guess me."
"Okay, shoot." Xander said.
"You see, you've gone and made a bleedin' big mess of things." Whistler explained. "Not that it's all your fault. Considering the circumstances, you really came into your own at the end there. Doesn't make you any less dead. But it makes her less dead, which is important. You see, she's what is known as very important. She has a destiny, of sorts.. And so do you. In fact, the two are very closely intertwined."
"How close?" Xander asked.
"Hey, what do I look like? A pervert?" Whistler did his very best to look hurt. "No reason why I should know any of the ...ahem... delicate details. What I do know is that whilst you doing what you did has fairly royally screwed things up, it was also just about the best available outcome at the time... Well, second best, but that's not too bad going."
"Okay." Xander said. "But I have two questions: First, why do I get the idea that you're leading up to something? And second, why does it feel like the demon is so much weaker now?"
"Both good points." Whistler responded. "The demon feels much weaker because it's not there anymore. That's one small bonus from your earlier choice. A small amount of spillover was inevitable with the two of you forced together like that, ordinarily that should never happen, but with the two of you being parts of the same whole...."
"Spillover?" Xander queried.
"Yeah, it's where he leaves an imprint on you and you leave an imprint on him. That's why you think you can still feel him. Now, the other point... You're dead. It's very unfortunate. It's also not a tenable situation. So I ask you this very simple question: You were strong enough to die for her, but are you strong enough to come back for her?"
"Yeah." Xander said. "I can do it."
"That's what we need to find out." Whistler said.
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The wine cellar below the mansion had, since Spike and Drusilla's occupation
been turned into a holding pen of sorts. Of course, it was empty of life
now, and Neither Spike and Drusilla, nor Buffy and her friends had taken
the opportunity to check it before leaving.
Had they done so they would have found the girl.
She lay upon the stone floor, perhaps dead to all intents and purposes, but not for much longer.
When they eyes snapped open, it was not the white of human eyes that they revealed, but the demonic eyes of a vampire, in tandem with this the face shifted, the ridges and fangs manifesting themselves for the first time. Carefully getting to her feet, the girl surveyed her surroundings
"Well, it's a bit drab, but I'm sure I can do something with it."
Kendra said as she walked out of the room in which she had been reborn,
and up and out of the cellar.
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Willow winced at the sunlight which was streaming in through the window
of the train carriage. It was mocking her, that was the only way it would
be shining so brightly. She could see it all around, everyone was happy.
They knew nothing of what lurked in the shadows. That hurt more than being
around people who knew, at least they understood. But she couldn't be there
anymore, not now. Too many bad memories. Her thoughts started to turn towards
those she was leaving, and she forced them away from it. The would cope,
they always did, but she didn't have the strength to dwell on what her
departure would do to them.
Not yet.
She looked down to her feet where her bag lay. Her laptop, a few changes
of clothes, various odd items, and as much money as she could scrape together
on such short notice. It should see her long enough for her to find her
feet when she got where she was going. She reached into the bag and pulled
out a pair of sunglasses. "better to be on the safe side." She thought
as she put them on.
And the train lurched forward, pulling out of Sunnydale station and onward to it's destination.
And as the train pulled away and out of the station the sun continued to shine.
Just as it should.
Just as it had always done.
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End... for now.