Summary: When an unforeseen evil once again threatens to destroy the world,
Buffy and the gang, along with some unexpected help, join together to
release a reluctant champion from the clutches of hell. But will he be the
prophesized savior or will he destroy them all?
Notes: Contains spoilers from BtVS seasons one through three.
Feedback: Any and all comments are welcome and appreciated.
Chapter Fifteen
Hawaii, Xander Harris fantasized, lying on my stomach with the warm sun baking me gently as twin dark-skinned native girls rub coconut oil into my back.
Nope, too easy.
Hawaii, he thought, still lying in the sun as a pasty faced Principle Snyder rubs oil into my back.
Still not there yet.
He shuddered a moment with disgust before forming the next mental image. A Hawaiian prison with Principle Snyder as a cellmate. That was better, now he was getting somewhere. He concentrated briefly before adding the next mental twist. And having a TV that only featured the show 'People So Horrible Even Jerry Springer Couldn't Stand Them'. He sighed unhappily as he contemplated throwing in chest hair pulling pro wrestlers into the mix.
"Xander Harris, are you listening to me?"
Nope, Xander thought as he glanced sheepishly at the face of the woman who'd been berating him for the past half-hour, can't think of anywhere I wouldn't rather be right now. "Yes, Mrs. Summers," he replied obediently.
She gave him a doubtful look, "then do you understand why I couldn't possibly go along with this ridiculous idea of yours?"
He momentarily contemplated heaving the blame unto Giles's more than capable shoulders, then thought better of it. The English man had enough on his plate with the curse to get sidetracked by a woman who had her heart set on dying with everybody else. "Yes, Mrs. Summers," he murmured, refusing to look her in the eye.
"Good," she stated firmly, "then I'll just go find my daughter and let her in on the news."
Xander swallowed hard as Joyce Summers turned to leave, he rocked agitatedly on the balls of his feet as an internal battle waged within him. Aww hell, he finally concluded, I'm gonna die anyway. What difference will a few more hours make? "Don't you think you're being a bit selfish?" He blurted, suddenly wishing he was ten years old again with the God given right to run away after ringing emotional door bells. "Um, Mrs. Summers," he hastily added. There was no need to be impolite.
She turned on him with excruciating slowness, each motion pulling on a different nerve cell, till finally he found himself on the receiving end of a glare he'd seen countless times before. Only it was usually directed at demons and it was often the last thing they were likely to see. Having the older, more practiced version focused on him was a disturbingly humbling experience. Also a very frightening one. "Excuse me?" She said coolly.
He swallowed hard again as he glanced at the angry woman looming over him. She wasn't really a big woman, only slightly taller than her deceivingly diminutive daughter, but the flashing anger in her steely gray eyes made her look like a pillar of strength. And pain. "Um," he said hesitantly. That was no good. He tried again, "er." Usually by this point he could think of something quirky to say and run away. Unfortunately, nothing quirky was coming to mind. Throwing caution to the wind he opted for honesty, "I just thought that you'd put the children first," there, that didn't sound as pitifully weak as he feared. Nope, that wasn't pitiful at all.
"Put the children..." the furious woman echoed, "Xander, they have parents!"
He stared at her with honest surprise. Didn't she realize what was about to happen? No one could possibly be that oblivious. "Their parents are going with us," he reminded her, "so are their older brothers and sisters, friends, and just about anyone who can mumble this curse thing right. When this thing's over they're going to be left all alone."
Joyce blanched, but there was no shock in her reaction, she'd realized this already, come to terms with it. "I meant that one of their parents should be left to care for them. I know we can't spare them all."
He sighed miserably, why was he always stuck with the dirty jobs? Mentally he caught up with his earlier caution, which was busily blowing in the wind, held on to it as hard as he could and tore it to shreds. No need for that useless excuse of a life preserving skill, was there? He took a deep breath, "then go ahead and pick which one of them gets to live while the rest of them die, cause I sure as hell am not going to do it!" He blurted, watching as the older woman's feature's twisted into surprise. Surprise was good, he thought, surprise wasn't anger. As long as he stayed away from anger he was fine. "And what about Buffy?" He demanded, "don't you think you owe her this?" A glance at the older woman's face instantly revealed he'd overstepped his boundaries as dangerous rage replaced bewildered surprise.
"Owe Buffy?" She echoed evenly. Yep, he'd definitely gone too far. "What do I owe Buffy?"
But there was no caution to lean back on. There was fear and blind panic, but no caution. Life was so much easier this way. "Your life, for starters." He retorted just as evenly, "she went out of her way to make sure that not only were you not hurt by what she was, but that you wouldn't find out. She didn't want you to worry because she loves you more than anything. The thought of you dying by her side was tearing her up inside, she needs you to go on living! She'll die young, she's known that for a very long time, she's learned to accept it, but she'll never be able to accept you dying with her. You owe her to let her die in peace, you owe her for all of the times she's protected you and put her own life on the line for your peace of mind." His chest heaved painfully for breath, but he was on a roll. "After this is over do what you want," he pushed on, looking at the pale woman standing shaken before him, "but at least give her this."
Joyce swallowed hard at a loss for words. She blinked, trying to process everything he'd thrown in her face. Xander sighed sympathetically, the Hellmouth was hard on the nerves. Basically he'd put Buffy's mother in a no win situation, and it was going to be impossible for her whether she chose to live or die, "just think about it," he said gently. Turning away he left the startled woman to her thoughts.
How would Joyce Summers survive in a world without her daughter? Xander pondered miserably as he roamed the school halls aimlessly. He awkwardly stepped over a small family napping on blankets in the middle of the hallway. In a sense he was taking the easy way out, he wouldn't have to exist in a world without his friends, his family. What was being done to Joyce was more of a curse than a gift. Nevertheless she would survive, he was confident in that. Buffy was a Slayer, the chosen one, and her physical abilities were those of a Slayer, but her strength of character, her firm resolve and her will to survive were her mother's. Joyce was a strong woman and she'd go on, she had to.
Xander headed towards the library, instinctively needing to be with his friends, needing their comfort, needing their food. Useless snack machines mocked him as he walked down the hall and not the first time that night he appreciated the brutal irony of his high school being the sole survivor of a building-destroying earthquake. If it were only a pizza place, he sighed, he'd find something constructive to do with all that cheese even without electricity.
"Where's Buffy?" He asked his library dwelling friends.
Cordelia pulled her gaze away from the book she'd been reading. She looked tired, he suddenly noticed, a kind of weariness that made her seem so much older than she actually was. "Don't know, don't care," she replied shortly.
"Giles went looking for her about fifteen minutes ago," Willow said haggardly without even bothering to glare at the May Queen. The bone weariness affected them all.
"Which brings us to the next question," he said as the small Slayer chose that exact moment to burst into the library. That girl had excellent timing, he thought, "where's Giles?"
"Gone," Buffy replied shortly. Her voice was calm, but the word still struck a chill in Xander's heart.
"Gone in a sense that he's out looking for pizza and will be back any second now," he tried, cheerfulness he didn't really feel force fed into his voice. He desperately hoped no one noticed the cold fear. "Or as in knocked over the head again and will be back among the conscious after this short commercial break."
No one laughed.
Buffy shook her head, "gone as in discovered something he couldn't handle and took off."
They stared at her. The simplicity of her words waging war against the image of the man they all knew.
"Giles?" Willow murmured with disbelief.
Xander was already one step ahead, "something worse than the fact that we're all going to die in a painful, fiery kind of way? Cause that didn't make him bail."
Buffy's head drooped, her shoulders sagged as her quiet resolve melted with their questions. "H-he," she stuttered, suddenly fearing their reactions. Wordlessly Willow walked up to her and rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. "The Watchers' Council wasn't founded by humans," she blurted. "One of the founders came to see me just now. Giles found out."
"When you say not human," Cordelia started slowly, her suddenly pallid face accentuating the dark circles under her eyes, "you're not talking about demons, are you?" The brunette's voice was childishly hopeful.
Buffy's gaze dropped to the floor, her quiet acknowledgment voicing what she couldn't put into words. Her eyes locked onto her feet, unable to meet their gazes, unable to face their blame.
"Oh man," Xander said. He was fairly sure he was voicing the general sentiment.
There is a kind of silence that people experience when they realize they're on their own. The kind of silence where people discover the weight of the world, the responsibility for lives other than theirs lies squarely on their shoulders. The kind of silence where people find inner strength they never knew existed, a deep resolve to stand up and fight for those they loved and for themselves.
This wasn't it.
"I don't think I can do this," Willow murmured, her voice sounding tiny and frightened in the gloomy candlelit room.
Buffy quickly moved to her friend's side, "it'll be all right, Will," she assured the trembling redhead.
"No, it won't," Cordelia said flatly.
"Why'd he come to see you?" Oz asked quietly.
Buffy's gaze fell to the floor again, her eyes focusing on the hungry crack in the marble where the Hellmouth had once opened. With a shudder she forced herself to look her friends in the eyes, "he's met me before. He wanted to tell me to stop what we were doing."
Willow's head twisted sharply to stare at her friend in disbelief, "that's why you lied to Angel!" Her eyes widened giving her the appearance of a pale, frightened child, "you believed a demon?" She choked.
"What the hell is going on?" Xander demanded, his voice rising uncontrollably.
Buffy shook her head wildly, her eyes pleading for understanding, "what he said made sense, Will," harsh tears suffocated her as she struggled to explain. "Angel was falling apart and Giles didn't have any answers. Gerrico knew everything, he had a solution to everything!"
"Who the hell is Gerrico?" Xander's voice was hoarse with repressed tension. He could feel it building inside him, flooding his muscles, balling his fists. For the first time in his young and often violent life he ached to beat something into a bloody pulp.
"And all I had to do was lie to him," Buffy whispered, tears flowing freely down her face. "If I lied to him everything would be all right."
Xander's patience broke, in three quick strides he was in the small Slayer's face. The young man, who had once been a soldier, still had the presence of mind to avoid grabbing the tiny blonde's deceptively slender shoulders as he yelled to her face. "What the hell did you do?"
"You know," Spike drawled from the doorway, "for a group of people who'd die for each other you yell an awfully bloody lot." Five heads whipped sharply to the sound of his voice. He smirked at their reactions, as he easily strolled into the room, his fingers pulling at a dented cigarette almost unconsciously.
"No smoking in the library," Willow recited weakly.
The pale vampire glanced at the timid hacker with surprise then laughed heartily, "right you are, Red," he agreed even as he lit the crumbling cigarette.
Buffy wiped her face hastily, crying in front of her friends was one thing, but falling apart in front of the annoying demon was quite another. "Weren't you supposed to be out of Sunnydale by now?" She asked harshly.
Spike took a luxurious puff on his smoke, looking her over in the process, "earthquakes are not your look, pet," he murmured, noting her disheveled appearance.
She instinctively brought a trembling hand to her head, wincing at the rough feel of her dust caked hair. "I'll try to have a makeup kit ready for the next natural disaster," she retorted hotly, angered by the wicked grin on the vampire's pale face. "What are you doing here, Spike?"
The blond vampire rolled his eyes mockingly, "if I only had a nickel," he sighed. He negligently tossed his half-finished smoke to the floor, narrowly missing a stack of books in the process. "Since none of the cars would start and I'm not really keen on trying out that new sun block nine out of ten dermatologists recommend, I'm stuck here just like the rest of you wankers," he replied. He strode further into the room, fully aware of the wild shadows the candlelight drew across his sharp features. "I figure since I'm in happy Sunny Hell anyway, I might as well find out how I can stay alive. So," he drawled, "what have you come up with?"
They stared at him.
Spike's amused features crumbled into deep disgust, "you wankers got nothing!" He accused.
"Let's give it up for the bleached blond blood-sucker," Xander murmured hoarsely. "You wanna tell him what he's won, Cordy?"
"A free one way ticket to hell," the brunette replied brusquely, "good thing you remembered to ask Angel what that was like," she congratulated the seething vampire, "no nasty surprises that way."
"So you're going to curl up and die like the sniveling little brats that you are?" Spike demanded.
"I was thinking more along the lines of standing up and dying like the sniveling little brat that I am, but yeah, basically that's more or less the plan now," Xander replied, his eyes involuntarily searching the Slayer's face for a reaction.
Buffy's eyes narrowed, "that is not the plan, Xander," she retorted vehemently. "Nothing's changed, we go on with what we talked about." Something suddenly occurred to her. If all the buildings save this one were destroyed, then, "where's Dru?" She demanded.
The blond vampire shrugged, "she's around here somewhere. Don't worry, Slayer," he added hastily as she made a move for the doors, "I brought my minions along, the ones that weren't crushed under the factory. She'll be fine."
The Slayer visibly blanched, "you brought vampires into this building?" She demanded even as she headed towards the doors at a quick run.
Spike shrugged as the others turned to follow her through the swinging doors, "I told them not to eat anybody," he cried after them. "It's like a bleeding buffet out there," he told the empty room, "who'll notice if they take a nip here and there?" With a sigh he turned to follow.
"It's pronounced oh, not ah," Harmony said to the group of vampires leering at her neck, "now you try it."
"Um, Harmony," Cordelia said as gently as she could. She wound her way towards her one time friend, carefully avoiding physical contact with any of the burly vampires crowded around the blonde girl, "what're you doing?"
"I'm taking initiative," the cheerleader replied smugly, "these new people came along, and I'm teaching them the curse." She looked worriedly up at Willow who was standing as far away from the circle of vampires as she possibly could without actually running away, "it is oh, not ah, right Willow?"
"Ah-ha," the redhead nodded weakly.
The smug smile returned to Harmony's lips, "I'm not a sheep," she said proudly.
Again with the sheep, Buffy thought bewilderedly. She made a mental note to ask Cordelia about that someday.
Spike looked sharply at the Slayer, "the curse?" He demanded, "I see you've decided to go with the suicide plan, you silly chit."
"Also known as the only plan," Xander helpfully added.
The blond vampire shook his head, "I thought your Watcher had more sense than that," he looked around the hallway, "where is the stuffy Brit, anyway?"
Cordelia rolled her eyes, "that's the question of the hour," she frowned in thought, "actually the question of the past fifteen minutes. There've been a lot of questions the past hour."
Buffy clenched her fists in an effort to remain calm, "you," she glared at the pale vampire, "get your minions into a classroom, an empty classroom," she emphasized, "and keep them there. Tell them that if any of them so much as sets a fang outside the door they're all dust." A stake flipped into her hand with a negligent flick of the wrist. "That goes double for Dru," she added, glaring at the blank-eyed dark woman. "You," she motioned towards her friends, "we're going back to the library and research as much as we can." She took a deep stabilizing breath as they stared at her with surprise, "I think it's time I told you everything," she admitted. She glanced at the pale vampire she'd often wanted to strangle, "you too," she finally said.
"So," Xander drawled as Spike finally strolled into the library, "are your minions all tucked in nice and tight?"
The pale vampire's expression soured, "we're not completely out of control with blood lust, you know," he said bitterly. "We don't all go around saying 'I vant to suck your vlud,'" he mimicked a Romanian accent as best he could.
"Bad idea when you're around someone named Vlud," Oz murmured softly to Willow.
Spike ignored him, "you think we're all salivating for your throats!" He actually managed to sound offended, "well let me tell you..."
"You had to stake one of them to prove your point, didn't you?" Buffy asked dryly, cutting him off mid tirade.
"He wasn't that important," Spike replied blandly.
"Now do you think it's time you told us everything?" Cordelia asked impatiently.
Buffy nodded awkwardly. While waiting for the vampire no one had said a word to her or so much as glanced her way. In fact her friends devoted so much effort to sitting around, pretending to read and just generally mind their own business while studiously avoiding looking at her, she was almost afraid they'd hurt themselves. Now that she was once again the focus of their attention she realized being ignored was seriously underrated. There was nothing wrong with a little non-attention. She gulped as she glanced up at their expectant faces, really there wasn't.
"Buffy," Willow encouraged softly.
So the small Slayer inhaled deeply, quenched her fears as best she could and told them. She told them of how Spike had taken her to see the Elders after the blood rite, how they'd told her who they were and what they'd demanded of her. Her eyes were dark and defiant as she described her refusal, daring them, any one of them, to judge her. No one did.
She went on telling them of Angel's mercurial mood swings, skimming over most details of their encounter in the mansion and focusing on her realization. "His soul was there," she told them, "but so was his demon." The curse, however, was not. She ignored the questions in their eyes and lifted her chin surely, they would just have to trust her in this. She told them of her second encounter with the Elder named Gerrico, of what he'd told her, of how he convinced her. She told them this emotionlessly, letting them draw whatever conclusions they could, she'd already made her decision.
She'd told them how she'd done what she'd promised, how she lied to her lover. Her eyes grew distant, unable to face the sympathy or pity she may encounter in the faces of these people whom she considered friends. She explain how she found out she'd been lied to, her words laced with the anger and confusion she still felt. Had she truly been lied to?
And finally of her last encounter with Gerrico, how her world had fallen apart when Giles found out the truth. Her words were choked as she spoke, the wound too fresh, still unhealed, to ignore.
When she finished talking, her chest heaving slightly for air, she found that she still couldn't face them. Her eyes locked to the floor, desperately feeling the weight of her words resting on her shoulders, not made lighter by the slightest by the truth. Doubt began to slither its way into Buffy's heart. Should she have told them? Could they handle the truth? She felt cold sweat ooze down her back, her breath caught in her throat as the silence remained unbroken, her eyes glaring at the marble floor as her body began to tremble. And what if they'd leave like Giles did?
Wordlessly Willow walked up and embraced her shaking friend and the Slayer exhaled noisily with relief because she knew then that they were all in this together.
They sat together for a while, enjoying the easy companionship that they hadn't experienced for so long. This was the truth, they all realized, but they were all in this together.
"I get why someone would describe Angel as a plague," Xander said, deliberately ignoring the dirty look the Slayer threw his way. "But what's with the metaphors? Why couldn't he just come out with the truth?"
"Well duh," Cordelia supplied, "he was probably nervous about how little Miss Jumps to Conclusions would react." She gave the sullen Slayer a penetrating look, "I wonder why."
"So, do you believe him?" Buffy asked quietly.
Cordelia shrugged indifferently, "doesn't matter. Either way I wouldn't bet my life on a curseless Angel's love for you. Last time we did that I had to get my car Angel proofed." She shuddered at the memory, "and that wasn't the worst of it," she paused as she caught Xander's warning look, "well, we all know what happened," she finished lamely.
Yeah, Buffy thought, people died, fish got gutted. We all know what happened.
"Curseless?" Xander asked, attempting to lighten the mood, "is that even a word?"
"Since when are you Mister Grammar," the pretty brunette retorted hotly.
"So it's back to square one, then," Oz said quietly, more to head off any upcoming arguments then to really make a point, Buffy suspected.
"If square one is synchronized cursing," Xander murmured, "then I'd say we're definitely in the zip code."
"Then it's time to hit the books again," Buffy said, she didn't even realize how much she'd missed their banter till now, "see if we can find a less deadly way to win this thing." They all grumbled, but rose from their seats and did as they were told. "What's your problem?" She asked Spike. The blond vampire had been unnaturally quiet since she told them all the truth.
"They weren't demons," He replied as if that explained everything. "All that tradition, all that bloody sense of propriety," he went on at her blank look. Still she stared at him dumbly, "I bowed to the bloody wankers," he grated through clenched teeth, "and they weren't even demons." She stared at him for a moment and then began to laugh weakly. He glared at her as threateningly as he could, but that only elicited stronger peels of laughter. "Knew she wouldn't get it," he grumbled as he stalked off towards the ravaged stacks, "bloody wankers."
Notes: Contains spoilers from BtVS seasons one through three.
Feedback: Any and all comments are welcome and appreciated.
Chapter Fifteen
Hawaii, Xander Harris fantasized, lying on my stomach with the warm sun baking me gently as twin dark-skinned native girls rub coconut oil into my back.
Nope, too easy.
Hawaii, he thought, still lying in the sun as a pasty faced Principle Snyder rubs oil into my back.
Still not there yet.
He shuddered a moment with disgust before forming the next mental image. A Hawaiian prison with Principle Snyder as a cellmate. That was better, now he was getting somewhere. He concentrated briefly before adding the next mental twist. And having a TV that only featured the show 'People So Horrible Even Jerry Springer Couldn't Stand Them'. He sighed unhappily as he contemplated throwing in chest hair pulling pro wrestlers into the mix.
"Xander Harris, are you listening to me?"
Nope, Xander thought as he glanced sheepishly at the face of the woman who'd been berating him for the past half-hour, can't think of anywhere I wouldn't rather be right now. "Yes, Mrs. Summers," he replied obediently.
She gave him a doubtful look, "then do you understand why I couldn't possibly go along with this ridiculous idea of yours?"
He momentarily contemplated heaving the blame unto Giles's more than capable shoulders, then thought better of it. The English man had enough on his plate with the curse to get sidetracked by a woman who had her heart set on dying with everybody else. "Yes, Mrs. Summers," he murmured, refusing to look her in the eye.
"Good," she stated firmly, "then I'll just go find my daughter and let her in on the news."
Xander swallowed hard as Joyce Summers turned to leave, he rocked agitatedly on the balls of his feet as an internal battle waged within him. Aww hell, he finally concluded, I'm gonna die anyway. What difference will a few more hours make? "Don't you think you're being a bit selfish?" He blurted, suddenly wishing he was ten years old again with the God given right to run away after ringing emotional door bells. "Um, Mrs. Summers," he hastily added. There was no need to be impolite.
She turned on him with excruciating slowness, each motion pulling on a different nerve cell, till finally he found himself on the receiving end of a glare he'd seen countless times before. Only it was usually directed at demons and it was often the last thing they were likely to see. Having the older, more practiced version focused on him was a disturbingly humbling experience. Also a very frightening one. "Excuse me?" She said coolly.
He swallowed hard again as he glanced at the angry woman looming over him. She wasn't really a big woman, only slightly taller than her deceivingly diminutive daughter, but the flashing anger in her steely gray eyes made her look like a pillar of strength. And pain. "Um," he said hesitantly. That was no good. He tried again, "er." Usually by this point he could think of something quirky to say and run away. Unfortunately, nothing quirky was coming to mind. Throwing caution to the wind he opted for honesty, "I just thought that you'd put the children first," there, that didn't sound as pitifully weak as he feared. Nope, that wasn't pitiful at all.
"Put the children..." the furious woman echoed, "Xander, they have parents!"
He stared at her with honest surprise. Didn't she realize what was about to happen? No one could possibly be that oblivious. "Their parents are going with us," he reminded her, "so are their older brothers and sisters, friends, and just about anyone who can mumble this curse thing right. When this thing's over they're going to be left all alone."
Joyce blanched, but there was no shock in her reaction, she'd realized this already, come to terms with it. "I meant that one of their parents should be left to care for them. I know we can't spare them all."
He sighed miserably, why was he always stuck with the dirty jobs? Mentally he caught up with his earlier caution, which was busily blowing in the wind, held on to it as hard as he could and tore it to shreds. No need for that useless excuse of a life preserving skill, was there? He took a deep breath, "then go ahead and pick which one of them gets to live while the rest of them die, cause I sure as hell am not going to do it!" He blurted, watching as the older woman's feature's twisted into surprise. Surprise was good, he thought, surprise wasn't anger. As long as he stayed away from anger he was fine. "And what about Buffy?" He demanded, "don't you think you owe her this?" A glance at the older woman's face instantly revealed he'd overstepped his boundaries as dangerous rage replaced bewildered surprise.
"Owe Buffy?" She echoed evenly. Yep, he'd definitely gone too far. "What do I owe Buffy?"
But there was no caution to lean back on. There was fear and blind panic, but no caution. Life was so much easier this way. "Your life, for starters." He retorted just as evenly, "she went out of her way to make sure that not only were you not hurt by what she was, but that you wouldn't find out. She didn't want you to worry because she loves you more than anything. The thought of you dying by her side was tearing her up inside, she needs you to go on living! She'll die young, she's known that for a very long time, she's learned to accept it, but she'll never be able to accept you dying with her. You owe her to let her die in peace, you owe her for all of the times she's protected you and put her own life on the line for your peace of mind." His chest heaved painfully for breath, but he was on a roll. "After this is over do what you want," he pushed on, looking at the pale woman standing shaken before him, "but at least give her this."
Joyce swallowed hard at a loss for words. She blinked, trying to process everything he'd thrown in her face. Xander sighed sympathetically, the Hellmouth was hard on the nerves. Basically he'd put Buffy's mother in a no win situation, and it was going to be impossible for her whether she chose to live or die, "just think about it," he said gently. Turning away he left the startled woman to her thoughts.
How would Joyce Summers survive in a world without her daughter? Xander pondered miserably as he roamed the school halls aimlessly. He awkwardly stepped over a small family napping on blankets in the middle of the hallway. In a sense he was taking the easy way out, he wouldn't have to exist in a world without his friends, his family. What was being done to Joyce was more of a curse than a gift. Nevertheless she would survive, he was confident in that. Buffy was a Slayer, the chosen one, and her physical abilities were those of a Slayer, but her strength of character, her firm resolve and her will to survive were her mother's. Joyce was a strong woman and she'd go on, she had to.
Xander headed towards the library, instinctively needing to be with his friends, needing their comfort, needing their food. Useless snack machines mocked him as he walked down the hall and not the first time that night he appreciated the brutal irony of his high school being the sole survivor of a building-destroying earthquake. If it were only a pizza place, he sighed, he'd find something constructive to do with all that cheese even without electricity.
"Where's Buffy?" He asked his library dwelling friends.
Cordelia pulled her gaze away from the book she'd been reading. She looked tired, he suddenly noticed, a kind of weariness that made her seem so much older than she actually was. "Don't know, don't care," she replied shortly.
"Giles went looking for her about fifteen minutes ago," Willow said haggardly without even bothering to glare at the May Queen. The bone weariness affected them all.
"Which brings us to the next question," he said as the small Slayer chose that exact moment to burst into the library. That girl had excellent timing, he thought, "where's Giles?"
"Gone," Buffy replied shortly. Her voice was calm, but the word still struck a chill in Xander's heart.
"Gone in a sense that he's out looking for pizza and will be back any second now," he tried, cheerfulness he didn't really feel force fed into his voice. He desperately hoped no one noticed the cold fear. "Or as in knocked over the head again and will be back among the conscious after this short commercial break."
No one laughed.
Buffy shook her head, "gone as in discovered something he couldn't handle and took off."
They stared at her. The simplicity of her words waging war against the image of the man they all knew.
"Giles?" Willow murmured with disbelief.
Xander was already one step ahead, "something worse than the fact that we're all going to die in a painful, fiery kind of way? Cause that didn't make him bail."
Buffy's head drooped, her shoulders sagged as her quiet resolve melted with their questions. "H-he," she stuttered, suddenly fearing their reactions. Wordlessly Willow walked up to her and rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. "The Watchers' Council wasn't founded by humans," she blurted. "One of the founders came to see me just now. Giles found out."
"When you say not human," Cordelia started slowly, her suddenly pallid face accentuating the dark circles under her eyes, "you're not talking about demons, are you?" The brunette's voice was childishly hopeful.
Buffy's gaze dropped to the floor, her quiet acknowledgment voicing what she couldn't put into words. Her eyes locked onto her feet, unable to meet their gazes, unable to face their blame.
"Oh man," Xander said. He was fairly sure he was voicing the general sentiment.
There is a kind of silence that people experience when they realize they're on their own. The kind of silence where people discover the weight of the world, the responsibility for lives other than theirs lies squarely on their shoulders. The kind of silence where people find inner strength they never knew existed, a deep resolve to stand up and fight for those they loved and for themselves.
This wasn't it.
"I don't think I can do this," Willow murmured, her voice sounding tiny and frightened in the gloomy candlelit room.
Buffy quickly moved to her friend's side, "it'll be all right, Will," she assured the trembling redhead.
"No, it won't," Cordelia said flatly.
"Why'd he come to see you?" Oz asked quietly.
Buffy's gaze fell to the floor again, her eyes focusing on the hungry crack in the marble where the Hellmouth had once opened. With a shudder she forced herself to look her friends in the eyes, "he's met me before. He wanted to tell me to stop what we were doing."
Willow's head twisted sharply to stare at her friend in disbelief, "that's why you lied to Angel!" Her eyes widened giving her the appearance of a pale, frightened child, "you believed a demon?" She choked.
"What the hell is going on?" Xander demanded, his voice rising uncontrollably.
Buffy shook her head wildly, her eyes pleading for understanding, "what he said made sense, Will," harsh tears suffocated her as she struggled to explain. "Angel was falling apart and Giles didn't have any answers. Gerrico knew everything, he had a solution to everything!"
"Who the hell is Gerrico?" Xander's voice was hoarse with repressed tension. He could feel it building inside him, flooding his muscles, balling his fists. For the first time in his young and often violent life he ached to beat something into a bloody pulp.
"And all I had to do was lie to him," Buffy whispered, tears flowing freely down her face. "If I lied to him everything would be all right."
Xander's patience broke, in three quick strides he was in the small Slayer's face. The young man, who had once been a soldier, still had the presence of mind to avoid grabbing the tiny blonde's deceptively slender shoulders as he yelled to her face. "What the hell did you do?"
"You know," Spike drawled from the doorway, "for a group of people who'd die for each other you yell an awfully bloody lot." Five heads whipped sharply to the sound of his voice. He smirked at their reactions, as he easily strolled into the room, his fingers pulling at a dented cigarette almost unconsciously.
"No smoking in the library," Willow recited weakly.
The pale vampire glanced at the timid hacker with surprise then laughed heartily, "right you are, Red," he agreed even as he lit the crumbling cigarette.
Buffy wiped her face hastily, crying in front of her friends was one thing, but falling apart in front of the annoying demon was quite another. "Weren't you supposed to be out of Sunnydale by now?" She asked harshly.
Spike took a luxurious puff on his smoke, looking her over in the process, "earthquakes are not your look, pet," he murmured, noting her disheveled appearance.
She instinctively brought a trembling hand to her head, wincing at the rough feel of her dust caked hair. "I'll try to have a makeup kit ready for the next natural disaster," she retorted hotly, angered by the wicked grin on the vampire's pale face. "What are you doing here, Spike?"
The blond vampire rolled his eyes mockingly, "if I only had a nickel," he sighed. He negligently tossed his half-finished smoke to the floor, narrowly missing a stack of books in the process. "Since none of the cars would start and I'm not really keen on trying out that new sun block nine out of ten dermatologists recommend, I'm stuck here just like the rest of you wankers," he replied. He strode further into the room, fully aware of the wild shadows the candlelight drew across his sharp features. "I figure since I'm in happy Sunny Hell anyway, I might as well find out how I can stay alive. So," he drawled, "what have you come up with?"
They stared at him.
Spike's amused features crumbled into deep disgust, "you wankers got nothing!" He accused.
"Let's give it up for the bleached blond blood-sucker," Xander murmured hoarsely. "You wanna tell him what he's won, Cordy?"
"A free one way ticket to hell," the brunette replied brusquely, "good thing you remembered to ask Angel what that was like," she congratulated the seething vampire, "no nasty surprises that way."
"So you're going to curl up and die like the sniveling little brats that you are?" Spike demanded.
"I was thinking more along the lines of standing up and dying like the sniveling little brat that I am, but yeah, basically that's more or less the plan now," Xander replied, his eyes involuntarily searching the Slayer's face for a reaction.
Buffy's eyes narrowed, "that is not the plan, Xander," she retorted vehemently. "Nothing's changed, we go on with what we talked about." Something suddenly occurred to her. If all the buildings save this one were destroyed, then, "where's Dru?" She demanded.
The blond vampire shrugged, "she's around here somewhere. Don't worry, Slayer," he added hastily as she made a move for the doors, "I brought my minions along, the ones that weren't crushed under the factory. She'll be fine."
The Slayer visibly blanched, "you brought vampires into this building?" She demanded even as she headed towards the doors at a quick run.
Spike shrugged as the others turned to follow her through the swinging doors, "I told them not to eat anybody," he cried after them. "It's like a bleeding buffet out there," he told the empty room, "who'll notice if they take a nip here and there?" With a sigh he turned to follow.
"It's pronounced oh, not ah," Harmony said to the group of vampires leering at her neck, "now you try it."
"Um, Harmony," Cordelia said as gently as she could. She wound her way towards her one time friend, carefully avoiding physical contact with any of the burly vampires crowded around the blonde girl, "what're you doing?"
"I'm taking initiative," the cheerleader replied smugly, "these new people came along, and I'm teaching them the curse." She looked worriedly up at Willow who was standing as far away from the circle of vampires as she possibly could without actually running away, "it is oh, not ah, right Willow?"
"Ah-ha," the redhead nodded weakly.
The smug smile returned to Harmony's lips, "I'm not a sheep," she said proudly.
Again with the sheep, Buffy thought bewilderedly. She made a mental note to ask Cordelia about that someday.
Spike looked sharply at the Slayer, "the curse?" He demanded, "I see you've decided to go with the suicide plan, you silly chit."
"Also known as the only plan," Xander helpfully added.
The blond vampire shook his head, "I thought your Watcher had more sense than that," he looked around the hallway, "where is the stuffy Brit, anyway?"
Cordelia rolled her eyes, "that's the question of the hour," she frowned in thought, "actually the question of the past fifteen minutes. There've been a lot of questions the past hour."
Buffy clenched her fists in an effort to remain calm, "you," she glared at the pale vampire, "get your minions into a classroom, an empty classroom," she emphasized, "and keep them there. Tell them that if any of them so much as sets a fang outside the door they're all dust." A stake flipped into her hand with a negligent flick of the wrist. "That goes double for Dru," she added, glaring at the blank-eyed dark woman. "You," she motioned towards her friends, "we're going back to the library and research as much as we can." She took a deep stabilizing breath as they stared at her with surprise, "I think it's time I told you everything," she admitted. She glanced at the pale vampire she'd often wanted to strangle, "you too," she finally said.
"So," Xander drawled as Spike finally strolled into the library, "are your minions all tucked in nice and tight?"
The pale vampire's expression soured, "we're not completely out of control with blood lust, you know," he said bitterly. "We don't all go around saying 'I vant to suck your vlud,'" he mimicked a Romanian accent as best he could.
"Bad idea when you're around someone named Vlud," Oz murmured softly to Willow.
Spike ignored him, "you think we're all salivating for your throats!" He actually managed to sound offended, "well let me tell you..."
"You had to stake one of them to prove your point, didn't you?" Buffy asked dryly, cutting him off mid tirade.
"He wasn't that important," Spike replied blandly.
"Now do you think it's time you told us everything?" Cordelia asked impatiently.
Buffy nodded awkwardly. While waiting for the vampire no one had said a word to her or so much as glanced her way. In fact her friends devoted so much effort to sitting around, pretending to read and just generally mind their own business while studiously avoiding looking at her, she was almost afraid they'd hurt themselves. Now that she was once again the focus of their attention she realized being ignored was seriously underrated. There was nothing wrong with a little non-attention. She gulped as she glanced up at their expectant faces, really there wasn't.
"Buffy," Willow encouraged softly.
So the small Slayer inhaled deeply, quenched her fears as best she could and told them. She told them of how Spike had taken her to see the Elders after the blood rite, how they'd told her who they were and what they'd demanded of her. Her eyes were dark and defiant as she described her refusal, daring them, any one of them, to judge her. No one did.
She went on telling them of Angel's mercurial mood swings, skimming over most details of their encounter in the mansion and focusing on her realization. "His soul was there," she told them, "but so was his demon." The curse, however, was not. She ignored the questions in their eyes and lifted her chin surely, they would just have to trust her in this. She told them of her second encounter with the Elder named Gerrico, of what he'd told her, of how he convinced her. She told them this emotionlessly, letting them draw whatever conclusions they could, she'd already made her decision.
She'd told them how she'd done what she'd promised, how she lied to her lover. Her eyes grew distant, unable to face the sympathy or pity she may encounter in the faces of these people whom she considered friends. She explain how she found out she'd been lied to, her words laced with the anger and confusion she still felt. Had she truly been lied to?
And finally of her last encounter with Gerrico, how her world had fallen apart when Giles found out the truth. Her words were choked as she spoke, the wound too fresh, still unhealed, to ignore.
When she finished talking, her chest heaving slightly for air, she found that she still couldn't face them. Her eyes locked to the floor, desperately feeling the weight of her words resting on her shoulders, not made lighter by the slightest by the truth. Doubt began to slither its way into Buffy's heart. Should she have told them? Could they handle the truth? She felt cold sweat ooze down her back, her breath caught in her throat as the silence remained unbroken, her eyes glaring at the marble floor as her body began to tremble. And what if they'd leave like Giles did?
Wordlessly Willow walked up and embraced her shaking friend and the Slayer exhaled noisily with relief because she knew then that they were all in this together.
They sat together for a while, enjoying the easy companionship that they hadn't experienced for so long. This was the truth, they all realized, but they were all in this together.
"I get why someone would describe Angel as a plague," Xander said, deliberately ignoring the dirty look the Slayer threw his way. "But what's with the metaphors? Why couldn't he just come out with the truth?"
"Well duh," Cordelia supplied, "he was probably nervous about how little Miss Jumps to Conclusions would react." She gave the sullen Slayer a penetrating look, "I wonder why."
"So, do you believe him?" Buffy asked quietly.
Cordelia shrugged indifferently, "doesn't matter. Either way I wouldn't bet my life on a curseless Angel's love for you. Last time we did that I had to get my car Angel proofed." She shuddered at the memory, "and that wasn't the worst of it," she paused as she caught Xander's warning look, "well, we all know what happened," she finished lamely.
Yeah, Buffy thought, people died, fish got gutted. We all know what happened.
"Curseless?" Xander asked, attempting to lighten the mood, "is that even a word?"
"Since when are you Mister Grammar," the pretty brunette retorted hotly.
"So it's back to square one, then," Oz said quietly, more to head off any upcoming arguments then to really make a point, Buffy suspected.
"If square one is synchronized cursing," Xander murmured, "then I'd say we're definitely in the zip code."
"Then it's time to hit the books again," Buffy said, she didn't even realize how much she'd missed their banter till now, "see if we can find a less deadly way to win this thing." They all grumbled, but rose from their seats and did as they were told. "What's your problem?" She asked Spike. The blond vampire had been unnaturally quiet since she told them all the truth.
"They weren't demons," He replied as if that explained everything. "All that tradition, all that bloody sense of propriety," he went on at her blank look. Still she stared at him dumbly, "I bowed to the bloody wankers," he grated through clenched teeth, "and they weren't even demons." She stared at him for a moment and then began to laugh weakly. He glared at her as threateningly as he could, but that only elicited stronger peels of laughter. "Knew she wouldn't get it," he grumbled as he stalked off towards the ravaged stacks, "bloody wankers."