TITLE: Day of the Dead (1/1)
SERIES: The Wheel of the Year
AUTHOR: Nymue
EMAIL: josette@aol.com
RATED: PG13
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Not yours. They belong to Joss, the WB, and FOX. This is a not-for-profit fanfiction. No infringement is intended.
SUMMARY: Samhain has arrived and as the characters prepare to face the winter and the New Year, some old ghosts are finally laid to rest.
SPOILERS: Up through "No Place Like Home" and "Dear Boy."
NOTE: Incantation by Starhawk, from "The Spiral Dance."
FEEDBACK: Is much appreciated.
***
Who is this they're burying?
Who but the shoulder I leaned on?
Who but the fire of my passion?
Who but my burning ember of loss?
Who but my darling, who but my treasure,
Who but the blood of the blood of my heart?
--- Scottish death song
Sleep, oh sleep now. Sleep, oh sleep.
Sleep against her sacred breast.
Sleep, oh sleep now. Sleep, oh sleep.
Sleep this night, let her give you rest.
--- Medieval Irish death chant
***
In many cultures around the world, its peoples celebrate their ties to the earth. Often they recognize four basic seasons and their holiest days and nights revolve around specific naturally occurring events, such as a solstice. Even when they do not, the celebrations take place during certain times of they year, usually reflecting a change in the environment or the local harvest. What is even more astounding is that hundreds of cultures over the years, thousands of miles apart, celebrate these same times.
And despite all the differences in the types of celebrations almost all believe that the end of the calendrical month of October is the time of the dead. So it was that the early morning of thirty-first of October found Buffy and Anya discussing plans for the All Hallows festivities Willow and Tara had planned.
"It's the most important Sabbat of the cycle," Willow explained. "It's the Celtic New Year."
"The time when the veil between the worlds is the thinnest," Tara added. "The day and night when the dead may r-return to walk the earth."
Buffy looked up from the altar decorations, alarmed. "What?"
"Not in a bad way," Willow hastily assured her. "Not usually … "
"Unless you've really hurt them," Anya added, not looking up from her nails.
Willow frowned.
"It's about respecting the dead," Tara said softly, the sadness in her voice catching Buffy's attention. "This is the time when we look back and mourn those we've lost, but we celebrate their life and remember that one day, we too will join them."
"Rebirth," Anya said suddenly.
Tara nodded. "Because death is not the end of life, but a new beginning."
Buffy sat silently, absorbing all this new information. It made sense, she realized, and it offered not only closure but hope for the future and beyond. Much of the magick she had been studying recently referred to the day (or night) of the dead but she had glossed over it in order to understand the matter at hand. Yet, to truly understand herself and everything else, Buffy knew she had to learn to understand this. Yes, the Slayer faced death with every second she lived and she had died once before, however briefly, but now that possibility seemed to loom ever closer. Whether it had to do with her mother's illness or the recent revelations about Dawn or that strange *being* she had fought, Buffy wasn't sure. Maybe it was all three.
"Let's do this," she said suddenly.
"Are you sure?" Willow asked.
Buffy nodded. "We don't have classes until after lunch, so yeah."
"And Xander's at work by now," Anya seconded. "We have plans for tonight so now is good."
Willow looked over at Tara, who smiled in agreement. The blonde Witch moved to a separate room in their apartment and gestured for the others to follow; once through the door they found the lovers' magick room transformed. A large space had been cleared in the center of the room and the four women seated themselves in a circle around a large brazier. Buffy noticed several plates, bottles and pouches lying to the side, but shook her head as images tried to form.
When the circle was cast, Willow spoke first. "This is probably the most important of the Sabbats, but it need not be the most elaborate. Many covens or groups stage elaborate rituals full of pageantry for the occasion, but since this is just us … "
"We d-decided simple was better," Tara finished.
"Besides," Willow grinned sheepishly. "Tara and I are going to the big Samhain festival tonight."
Buffy nodded, her eyes stinging slightly as Tara whispered a few words while sprinkling a handful of crushed leaves and powder over the brazier. Tara caught the response and gestured to the pile, saying, "It's a m-mixture of wormwood, bay leaves, frankincense, skullcap, s-sandalwood, saffron and cinnamon."
"This is the time when the veil that divides the worlds is at its thinnest," Willow told them as she poured mugwort tea into mugs that were passed around the circle. "This is the New Year in the year's death, when the gates of life and death are opened and the dead walk."
As Buffy sipped the tea she noticed the images she had earlier pushed aside become more insistent, and she was not a little astonished when the shadows began to detach themselves from the walls and form shapes. In fact, she nearly missed Willow's next words.
"To the living is revealed the Mystery: that every ending is but a new beginning."
Buffy giggled softly as the shapes played a mischievous game of tag with one another, while still others pantomimed to her. She felt relaxed now, at ease with what she knew were surely spirits that were attracted to the magick in the room. Giles would, no doubt, say they were also attracted to the strong life-force that she and the Witches and the former demon had in spades and that the magick, while nice, was merely the icing on the cake.
She was so caught up in the drama being played out on the walls that she missed Tara's words completely. "We meet in time out of time … "
The mirth of the spirits seemed to dwindle and sadness began to permeate the air. Buffy frowned and leaned forward, trying desperately to see what the others were seeing.
"Here and there … "
The new shape coalesced from the shadows into a vague figure and Buffy squinted to see. As if sensing her inability the specter came closer to the edge of the circle, putting it directly in Buffy's line of sight.
"Everywhere and nowhere … "
An anguished cry was wrenched from the Slayer's throat as the ghostly image fully materialized. Pain burbled up from where it had been tightly concealed for years and the sheer agony intensified when the apparition was joined by another. This time Buffy moaned, her grief pouring from her as if it were a fount of water. The two beings gave her what were surely sad smiles; they missed the living, but death was not that horrible, they seemed to say. Only the living made death unbearable.
However, Buffy had barely grasped the silent message when the shapes began to drift away or dissipate back into the shadows and she felt like she was being wrenched away from a serene peacefulness when awareness was restored. As the Slayer came fully out of her trance, she found that her face was wet with tears and that her breathing was ragged and uneven, a testament to her grief.
Looking around she was unsurprised to see various stages of pain and anguish on the faces of her friends. Anya looked very disturbed; Tara appeared upset, her calm aura upset by whatever she had witnessed; and Willow's face was also streaked with tears, her eyes luminescent with unrepressed grief.
"I saw Jesse," she whispered helplessly.
Buffy crawled across the circle, her leg barely missing the brazier, and pulled her best friend into a strong embrace before she had even realized her intentions. Some of the Slayer's deepest instincts had kicked in when she saw a part of her family in pain and Buffy knew that if she couldn't fix the problem at least she could help another way. The redhead and the Slayer sobbed into one another's shoulders and Tara, loath to disrupt them, tentatively joined the two after only the briefest of moments. Anya, too, soon joined the others, their tears of grief mingling out of time.
***
It was well after noon before they were able to leave the apartment; Buffy and Willow missed two of their three classes and both agreed to skip the third. The Slayer was reluctant to leave the young Witch but she knew her friend had Tara, who seemed to have mostly recovered from her experience.
Buffy wandered the campus, oblivious to the people around her as she contemplated what had happened. Now that the initial pain was dissipating she was able to focus on the message the shades had imparted. Only the living made death unbearable, she mused. In a way it made sense, especially if the dead were still in anyway connected to this world.
"And holding on to their memory, to them, holds them here," she whispered aloud, stopping in the middle of the path.
"Holds who where?" a familiar voice inquired.
Buffy turned to find Riley behind her and gave him a sad smile. "Ghosts."
"Ghosts?" Riley asked. "Like what happened earlier this spring?"
Buffy shook her head. "No … the spirits of our loved ones, people we cared about. If we hold onto them too much, we keep them here."
"And how is this relevant?"
She hesitated. "It's Halloween."
"I know," he laughed. "Tonight all the kids will get all dressed up and go out demanding candy. Speaking of, I wanted to know if you wanted to get dressed up and go to the party, maybe leave early … "
Where once his words would have made her happy, possibly thrilled her after his recent problems, today they fell flat. Buffy took a deep breath and faced him. "No, Riley, I'm not going to the party. Actually, I need to spend tonight with Giles -- we have things we need to talk about, things we've put off for years."
"Buffy -- " he started.
"Riley," she whispered. "This is important."
"To you it must be. But Buffy, I still feel like you're slipping away, what with all this magick and extra training and studying … "
She shook her head and gave him a hug. "I'm right here," she told him. "I haven't gone anywhere … but I do need to go see how Mom is. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
He nodded. She gave him a kiss and started for home, his eyes following her until she was out of sight. 'I haven't gone anywhere,' she had said.
"But you have," he told the trees.
"You've already left me … if you were ever really here to begin with."
***
"How's Mom?"
Dawn looked up from counter to find her sister framed in the kitchen doorway, worry etched on her face. While still not sure she wanted easily forgive Buffy for what she had done the other night, she found herself glad to see the blonde.
"Okay, I guess."
Buffy frowned. "Really? And what do you mean, you guess?"
"I just got home from school," Dawn told her. "She said she felt a little tired, but she's always tired lately … "
Tears pricked the younger girl's eyes and Buffy wrapped her arms around her, hugging her tightly. "I know, little sister," she whispered. "I'm worried, too. I'm always worried about something, especially now."
Dawn swallowed a sob but the tears still slipped from her eyes. "It's hard, you know? I never know what she'll be like from day to day, if I'll have to call you and tell you she's at the hospital again or what."
Buffy hugged her tighter.
"Oww," Dawn said, pushing at the Slayer's arms. "I need to breathe, you know."
A small smile cracked Buffy's face and she released her sister, who promptly returned to fixing the snack she had abandoned a few scant seconds before. As she spread the peanut butter on the crackers, she noticed Buffy circling the kitchen out the corner of her eye. Shrugging her shoulders, she focused on her snack decided to let the blonde to worry for the moment. Who knows, she might come up with some sort of solution.
Her mind in a whirl, Buffy paced the length of the kitchen over and over and over again. Instinct had made her call Dawn 'little sister,' but there was something else nagging in the back of her mind. However, she once more shoved it aside to focus on the more immediate problem.
Buffy's sudden stop made Dawn look up. The Slayer chewed her bottom lip for a moment before asking, "Do you think it would help if I moved back home?"
Dawn thought about it. While she enjoyed having Mom -- and the house -- to herself, here lately another set of hands that were available on a full time basis would be helpful. She didn't tell Buffy that the doctors had suggested a live-in nurse, simply because she knew how her sister would take the news. Live-in nurses were, often, for people whose conditions were chronic, temporarily severe or deteriorating, and she knew her sister would definitely wig. That aside, the idea had some merit, but …
"I don't know," Dawn replied. "I mean, you'll still have class and training and patrol and time with what's-his-face -- "
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Riley."
Dawn smirked. "Whatever. Anyway, you'd still be out of the house a lot."
"But I'd be here more, especially at night and before classes."
"Yeah," Dawn sighed.
"I'll talk to Mom," Buffy decided.
"Okay," Dawn responded. "Just wait 'til tomorrow -- I think she's gone to sleep."
Buffy nodded. "If you need me I'll be at the magic shop until dark."
"And after?"
"Page me."
***
Anya didn't bother to look up from the register when the bell on the door jingled, which normally in Sunnydale could have been a problem. However, today was Halloween and the former demon knew that any self-respecting demon was at home or holed up somewhere until tomorrow night. The humans didn't really understand why, she reflected, but that was fine.
"We're closing," she called. "Go away."
"Anya?"
She looked up to find Riley standing rather nervously before the counter, fidgeting. He never fidgeted. "Why are you here? Buffy and Giles left earlier. And why are you fidgeting? You don't usually fidget."
Riley was increasingly uncomfortable around Anya, why he wasn't sure. Perhaps it had to do with the whole demon thing, he thought. "I, ah, know Buffy's not here, but I was hoping maybe Willow would be in. I have a few questions … "
"About what?" she asked suspiciously.
"Halloween," he stated. "Why was Buffy talking about seeing dead people? What has that got to do with everything?"
Before she could answer the bell jingled again and a freshly showered Xander strolled through the door, starting only slightly when he saw Riley. "Riley … what's up?"
"I just had a few questions, but if you're busy -- "
Anya closed the register with a snap and leaned against the counter. "Halloween is an old holiday," she told him. "Very old. It's the day of the dead."
"I thought that was in Mexico?" Xander chimed in.
Anya frowned at her boyfriend. "It is, Xander, but it's a relative term. It's the one day when the dead can travel back and forth freely and anyone who truly wishes to see them can do so."
Riley shifted. "So, why was Buffy so upset earlier?"
"Buffy was upset?" Xander asked.
Anya eyed them both. "We had a small Samhain ritual early this morning; Buffy and Willow saw people … maybe they had a message. I didn't ask, and if you were wise you'd leave it alone."
By now, Xander was growing anxious. "How upset … what, who did they see? Are they okay?"
Anya shrugged. "Buffy and Giles are gone now, but she seemed fine, and Willow went with Tara to the festival."
"Earlier this afternoon Buffy said she had to see Giles tonight," Riley told him. "Something about putting ghosts to rest, something that should have been done years ago."
Understanding dawned and Xander seemed to both calm and tense and the same time. He ignored the strange looks he was getting, instead turning his attention to Riley. "She'll be fine, Riley. Go home, watch some cheesy horror films and pass out candy tonight, and you'll hear from her tomorrow."
Riley frowned. "You know what's going on?"
Xander wisely held his own counsel for once. "I might," he told the taller man. "But even if I'm right, this is between Buffy and Giles."
"And their ghosts," Anya added.
"Yeah," Xander seconded.
Riley finally acquiesced and turned to go, but Anya grabbed his arm and handed him something long and thin wrapped in tissue paper. He looked at it for a moment, the aroma tickling his nose, before turning a questioning gaze on her.
Anya shrugged. "You wanted to know. It's wormwood incense -- you use it to see the ghosts. Those are the sticks we keep around for the newbies and the wannabes and those who just like the smell. They're very inexpensive; give me two dollars."
Riley just stared for a moment and then pulled out his wallet and handed her the cash. She took the money and rang it up, telling him, "We've answered your questions, you have a product and we have your money. Please leave now."
Xander glared.
Anya just smiled. "And have a nice night."
***
When the sun slipped below the horizon darkness descended on the little town that sat atop the Hellmouth. Children in costumes scampered about, going door to door begging for candy while parents and escorts chuckled from the roadsides. Vampires kept to their lairs this night, except for a certain platinum blond who cornered kids and managed to scare a few out of their candy. Even the demons stayed out of sight, many not even bothering to go to Willy's for company, but rather choosing to stay in and sleep or catch up on the books they'd been avoiding for a few centuries.
Outside of town, two Witches joined a crowd that numbered near a hundred at a festival to mark the occasion.
At an upscale restaurant across town, a young couple toasted their "anniversary" and gave each other meaningful looks. Both knew there was much sex in their immediate future.
In a small apartment, a blond man lit a stick and inhaled the scent that wafted under his nose as he peered into the night.
And in a loft, the Watcher and the Slayer sat across from one another in silence, both contemplating what had passed between them already this night. Both knew that there was more to be said, more to be done, before the sun would rise and bring a new day.
"We don't talk about it."
A beat. "I know."
"We should, we need to. We should have done this before."
"Should we? What can be accomplished by digging up old wounds?"
"Only the living make death unbearable," Buffy quoted softly. "She wanted you to be happy, Giles."
"Did she?" he asked, his voice tight.
"You know she did … but you can't let go."
Giles turned a sardonic look on his Slayer. "Pot, kettle."
Buffy nodded, tears budding in her eyes. "It's so hard, Giles, so hard. I still see her there on the floor," she choked out.
Almost immediately the Watcher was beside his Slayer, his arms pulling her close as the tears she thought she had shed began to fall once more. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed, and he held her tightly as his own eyes watered as the years of grief finally found expression. Where once the two might have yelled and argued and accused, tonight they merely held one another and grieved for what was lost. One mourned a love thwarted that might have been, the other a friend and sister who was found too late and lost too soon, and together they mourned for what they had done to one another in their grief. Curled together they faced their fears and opened their hearts, pouring out what they once kept locked tightly within.
"I wanted to die with her," he whispered.
"I lost something that night," she told him.
"Even afterwards, when I no longer wanted to die … I no longer knew how to live."
"She didn't deserve what happened, Slayer or not I should have been there … "
"Now I'm afraid to get that close again."
"I couldn't look at Faith without seeing her, and I hurt someone else in the process," she confessed.
Silence reigned and only the ragged breathing and occasional sobs broke the stillness. Both stared, green eyes meeting hazel as Giles slowly rose from the embrace and walked into the kitchen. When he emerged moments later, Buffy noted with some surprise that he carried two plates of various fruit slices and bread, as well as a white candle. She gave him a small smile and sat across from him as he lit the wick, grasping his hands after he disposed of the match.
"I loved Jenny," he said simply. "A part of me will always love her, but I know she's gone now, passed beyond my reach in this life. And as much as I know that Angel was not to blame for her death, I know you bear no fault either."
Buffy was silent, but her eyes told him that she clearly did not feel the same.
"You said that their message was that only the living made death unbearable," he said. "Buffy, by blaming yourself for her death -- for their deaths -- you hold onto them. Guilt is as strong as love, and sometimes stronger."
She bowed her head. "Kendra was a Slayer, Giles. When I met her and finally got over our differences, I realized that I was no longer alone, that I had a sister-in-arms, someone who knew exactly what I felt every damn day, someone who understood. It was my fault that she was placed in the situation that got her killed."
Giles closed his eyes as he remembered the straight-laced Slayer. "She was raised to be a Slayer, Buffy, and she died doing her duty … which she felt honored to do. Buffy … do you really believe that she would have visited you this morning, given you that message, if she blamed you?"
"No," she said slowly. "But -- "
"Buffy," Giles said gently. "There are no buts."
Tears streaked the Slayer's face, but her eyes told him she understood. She squeezed his hands and took a deep breath. "I miss Kendra … I miss Jenny Calendar, and I'm sorry that I never got to tell them so many things before they died. I never really blamed Jenny for what happened to Angel, but because of who she was she made … an easy target."
Giles inhaled sharply.
Buffy heard him but plunged ahead. "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made her feel like you and she couldn't be together … but I know she doesn't blame me; if she had she wouldn't have translated the curse."
"Kendra was a wonderful person and a very excellent Slayer," Giles told her. "She died tragically in battle and we will always miss her. We miss a her as a friend and as part of our family … we mourn her death as only family can."
"I love you, Kendra," Buffy whispered. "I hope you can hear me, wherever you are, and I hope you forgive me for holding on for so long … both of you. I'm going to let go tonight, but I'll never forget."
Giles squeezed her hands. "Jenny … I miss you terribly. I miss the way you teased me, the way you made me face the modern age and I know you would want me to face this. For years I've lived half a life because I was afraid of getting too close to someone else, too afraid I might loose them and too afraid I might loose what little I still had of you. But tonight, tonight I'm letting go. It's time."
"I love you," they whispered.
A tiny breeze swirled around them briefly, encircling them like a warm blanket. It stayed only seconds but extinguished the candle before it faded away.
'Goodbye.'
***
"Ugh."
Wesley looked up from the papers he had been perusing to find Cordelia standing in the doorway, her once elegant Cleopatra costume in horrible disarray. There were a few small rips in her skirt, one of the straps on her top had been sliced, her cosmetics were running, her hair was askew and there was a bruise on her shoulder.
All in all, she looked quite unlike the refined and suave woman he had seen earlier.
"Cordelia," he said, rising to help her if needed. "What happened?"
"The party was not so good," she told him. "And right now I need to wash up and change, so I'm gonna go upstairs."
"Of course," he murmured as she swept up the stairs. "It must have been quite a party … "
"More like a rave," a familiar voice put in.
Wesley turned to find Gunn leaning against the counter, his eyes tracking Cordelia as she continued her ascent. "Gunn, is there a problem … ?"
Gunn shook his head. "Oh, no. I don't mind the princess, who swears it's her place to save my life, calling me up out of the blue and asking for a ride here. I don't mind one bit."
"She called you?"
"Uh huh."
"Mmmm, I wonder why?"
Gunn shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe you weren't picking up the phone."
"No one has called tonight, not we expected anyone to. After all, it is Halloween."
"So?"
Wesley started. "I thought Angel mentioned this … "
"He said Halloween was a safe night for humans, when it comes to demons," Gunn told him. "He didn't say why."
"They find it crass and commercialized," Wesley replied.
"So they stay in?" Gunn said in disbelief. "Just because of that?"
"Yes, just for that," Cordelia broke in, having returned.
Both men stared at her for a moment. Unlike the usually coifed Cordelia or the after-battle disheveled Cordelia, this one stood before them without a shred of makeup, hair in a ponytail and in drawstring pants and a camisole top.
She was also barefoot.
"Hey, you've both seen me look way worse than this," she pointed out. "Besides, nothing happens on Halloween … except for that fluke a few years ago."
"Fluke?" Wesley asked. "Oh, yes, I remember reading of the incident in Giles' diary. People began turning into their costumes, correct?"
"Yeah, it was so the definition of freaky, even for Sunnydale."
"Whoa, back it up," Gunn broke in. "People actually turned into their costumes?"
Cordelia nodded.
"That's just … " Gunn found himself momentarily at a loss for words.
"Really, really weird?"
"That's beyond weird, that's into un-damn-believable. How did that happen?"
Cordelia started to speak, but Wesley quietly broke in. "Cordelia, why did you call Gunn to pick you up?"
The former May Queen and reluctant Seer looked defensive and affronted at having her motives questioned, but deflated when she saw the look on Wesley's face. She turned to Gunn, hoping he would shrug it off, and sighed when he crossed his arms and looked at her. "I … thought had stashed my bag pretty well, but when I went to touch up my eyeliner I couldn't find it. When it finally turned up all my cash was missing. I didn't know if you'd be here to pay a cab, or if Angel would even be here, so … "
"All your cash?" Wesley jumped up. "Was anything else taken? Your identification, credit cards -- "
She shook her head. "Do you honestly think I'm that stupid? I only took my keys, my eyeliner and lipstick, my pager -- just in case -- and some cash. Nothing else was missing."
"Hey, I saw that party and it sounds like you got off easy," Gunn told her.
"Well," Wesley hesitated.
"Just forget about it," Cordelia told them. "Sorry if I ruined your evening."
"No problem," Gunn said sardonically. "But do you mind telling about how people turned into their Halloween costumes?"
"Well, it started out with a new costume store … actually it probably started with two friends having a big fight in England years ago … "
***
Halloween, All Hallows, Hallowmas, Samhain, the Day of the Dead … all names for a forty-eight hour period. It's strange that on this night that celebrates death that I find myself thinking of you, writing a letter to you that I know I will never post. Or perhaps not so strange, for you were the one who made me wake from a long stupor … you made want to *live* again. I started on the road for you, but now I travel the road for myself and for all the others who need my help.
Yet, I still love you and my most fervent prayer is that the road I travel brings me back to you … and I hope that we will walk it together. "Together you are strong, alone you are dead" are the words the Morha demon spoke on the Day That Wasn't, the day you don't remember. If those words are a foreshadowing of our future, as they may very well be, then one day, my love, we will find one another once more. And perhaps next time, when we've both grown and learned from our experiences, when we know our limits, we'll get it right.
Darla is back and this time she's human. She has a soul although the demon's memories, feelings and personality remains, but the she wants me to be him again. That will never happen, though. I cannot allow him to ever walk freely in this realm ever again, just as I will not allow her to harm you.
I think she would give up on Angelus if she thought she could kill you …
So, I spend this night thinking of you. I have no wish to think of my father or my long dead family, or of the countless victims of my demon. Only you. Tonight, when the dead walk I wish to think of the living, and no one is more *alive* than you, my Buffy.
And I pray for the day when I will join you.
***
"Here is the cycle of rebirth: all passes out of life, but all may be born again. Everything passes, changes. Seed becomes fruit; fruit becomes seed. In birth, we die; on death, we feed. Be free of all fear, for the circle, the wheel, is ever turning."
END