TITLE: Where Do I Fit In Your Life?
AUTHOR: Wicked Raygun
E-MAIL: wicked_raygun@hotmail.com
SUMMARY: Is it worth the risk to tell someone how you feel, when they might not feel the same way?
RATING: TV-14. No worse then what's on the show
SPOILERS: Up to "The Gift" and then it goes on its merry way into an alternate universe. I started this puppy LONG before season 6 started and although I did use a few possible spoilers they're no biggies.
DISCLAIMOR: I refuse to believe this is necessary. Does anyone here actually believe I own this stuff in any way? Well… To the folks who do own a piece of the Buffster and/or her friends and enemies, I mean you no harm. I'm simply borrowing your toys to put on a little puppet show. I promise to bring them all back in near-mint condition. Even Spike.
FEEDBACK: Everyone needs a little love. It makes the world go round and writers post faster.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'd like to take this time to thank everyone who's given me feedback throughout this endeavor. It means a lot to me and I thank you all from my heart. It makes me feel special. So without further ado… Thanks to (In no particular order): C-Man, Ozmandayus, Danii, Tim Creecy, Jarrod Harmier, Xandman2000, Kenneth Carter, Stone Cold, Chorlton, Darkdyer, Jennifer L. Hallmark, Michael aka Mutant, Socrates, Jason W. Thompson, Wayne, Bob Regent, Brooke H., Lynne, Zauriel Angelus, Jai L, Varthan, Calen, Top Quark, Lisa, Red, Faith, Bolo, Jane, Furious George, Kris, and last but not least Seth5095.
Also a special mention to Krisseth2000, who seems to really, really like this story. Thank you for the feedback.
If I have missed anyone please e-mail me off list. I tried to track down everyone I could, but I may have missed some people. The search at the BX_Fanfic archive isn't the greatest out there.
Extra Special thanks goes out to my beta-reader Lori Bush. She is truly a godsend. She's also an amazing writer, here's the link to her stories at fanfiction.net:
http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=17172
By the way, for anybody who needs a refresher or is coming into this new you can find the rest of this story at fanfiction.net, located here:
http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=79383
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Chapter Four
************
Xander had remembered hearing somewhere that coyotes, when caught in a fur trap, would often gnaw off their own trapped appendage in order to escape the clutches of the cruel contraption. He remembered this fact throughout his childhood, and into his adolescence. Even now that he was, for all intents and purposes, an adult, it had stayed with him. And the reason it had was because there were times in his life where he truly identified with that coyote. Like those times when he locked himself in his room, throwing his pillows over his ears to drown out the noise of his parents yelling at each other, or when Willow's father had caught him stealing a quarter from the mall fountain, or when he had to admit to Giles that he had Amy cast a love spell for him, or when he had to endure a period of geography with Mister Walter Means in the ninth grade.
But none of those situations could compare with this.
Here he was, in one of the public parks Sunnydale's previous mayor was oh so happy to fund, with one of his best friends, hunting a demon, and with the tension in the air so thick that Xander worried that he was going to leap six feet in the air at the slightest stimulus. And it wasn't the demon that had them jumpy.
Earlier that day, he had confronted Buffy about kissing Spike. While starting off heated, the confrontation degraded quickly. Neither had the will to pursue their anger. So Buffy had said she was sorry and Xander voiced his concerns. The fight resulted in Buffy feeling defensive and Xander feeling disappointed. But there was hope. They had agreed that they would talk, really talk, after patrol. Their bond of friendship could be shaken, but never broken, so there was confidence that all would be sorted out, despite the sense of dread that each felt. But that small seed of discomfort grew and now, what had, at the time, seemed like a perfect solution, now loomed over them like an ominous, dark cloud that would bring either life-giving rain or catastrophic floods.
There was too much at stake for Xander to be calm.
Unbeknownst, to him, Buffy was entertaining similar ideas. The constant and unbearable silence had allowed her ample time to ponder just how she had managed to screw up such a seemingly foolproof plan. And she knew the answer. She had not accounted for the unforeseen variable of anxiety. She had sworn to herself to tell Xander how she felt this very night. She didn't enjoy feeling like a lovesick teenager; and if dying had taught her anything, it was that she shouldn't take anything or anyone for granted because nothing was guaranteed.
Not life and certainly not love.
So it was up to her to find her happiness and not just expect someone to hand it to her. She had to tell Xander how she felt, because regret was the worst kind of pain, because he deserved to know the truth, because he had done that much for her, once upon a time, and because she wanted to feel truly loved and alive again and there was no part of her that doubted that Xander could make her feel that.
If he felt the same way.
Buffy was truly learning the truth behind the expression "easier said then done," because despite how convincing that all sounded to her she couldn't force her mouth to do anything other then open and close like a fish. The words were there; they just refused to be said.
Buffy Summers, slayer of vampires, demons, and hell gods, was afraid to bare her heart again.
So to compensate for her extreme discomfort, she tried to focus on hunting Sunnydale's latest crisis demon. But even that wasn't working, because after two hours of hunting in uncomfortable silence their fruitless searching hadn't revealed so much as a vampire let alone a demon enchanting the locals to do whatever it wanted or needed.
[}Stupid Hell Mouth.{]
After another five minutes the silence was disrupted by Xander. "That's it! I can't take this any longer."
Buffy, turned to her friend, shocked that the he had finally said something.
"Buffy, when was the last time we ever spent this much time together without talking?
"Uh, well…" Buffy searched for a reply, but was cut off by Xander.
"I'll tell you when. Two weeks from never. I don't know about you but this is starting to drive me insane. I mean, obviously, we're both worried about the same thing: our friendship."
[}Boy, does he ever not know the half of it,{] Buffy thought self-deprecatingly.
"We've planned this big powwow and now we're nervous about it and it's turned into the pink elephant in the corner of the room that no one wants to talk about."
"Xander," she said, finally regaining her mental capacities, "you're right. We-we're friends. We're just going to talk later about some important stuff. It's not even that big a deal really. We shouldn't be here standing around nervously with weird awkward silences or halting small talk. We're friends."
"The best of friends," he corrected with a smile.
"Evil, beware."
"Right."
"Yeah."
They stood there for a while, smiling awkwardly, and each expecting the other to contribute some sort of conversation. Xander shifted his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. Buffy twirled the stake in her hand with tense fingers.
And then finally, Xander said, "We should, you know…"
"Find the demon," she finished for him.
"Yeah. Scooby honor and all that." Xander then placed two fingers to his forehead and made an awkward Boy Scout salute. Buffy laughed forcefully, then cleared her throat, turned around and started after their demon again, more nervous then before.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
He watched from a tree as the two humans below him spoke uncomfortably. Their feelings and thoughts drifted up to him like the smells of a glorious banquet. The inherent demonic powers of his race allowed him to sift through the various feelings and thoughts like a fine connoisseur. And what emanated the most off of the two humans below him was fear.
Gra-ul loved fear. Out of all human emotions, it was the easiest to manipulate and the most fun. Humans were, as a species, slaves to their fears. Unlike many demons, who would seek out and destroy whatever caused them unease let alone fear, humans would often spend their entire lives seeking a way to avoid it, preferring denial to confrontation. And all humans feared something, no matter how above it all they pretended to be.
And the hilarious part to Gra-ul was that humans feared damn near everything.
From the wildest of beasts to the smallest of insects, from the most imposing of heights to the slapping crash of the ocean against the shores. But for every human that feared something as tangible as a spider there were countless others that feared the things that could never physically hurt them, things that were utterly trivial: rejection, the disapproval of others, loss of petty possessions or stature, and of course, Gra-ul's favorite, change.
Humans were such creatures of habit that it never ceased to amuse him that something as mundane and inevitable as a change in routine, belief or circumstance would rattle them so completely. Many demons thought that humans were far too complex when Gra-ul knew that the truth was completely the opposite. They were too predictable. Merely whisper into their minds that their life was changing for the worse and that they were powerless to stop it and they would react violently.
Gra-ul himself had no real fear. Oh, he had the normal self-preservation instincts all beings had, but he was not ruled by his emotions as irrationally as the humans were. He was active and ambitious for his race, the Nayii-ke. And while others of his race were content to use their powers only when they needed to, Gra-ul loved the challenge of controlling and manipulating the lesser beings. And while he did in fact believe in the coming of the Great Purge that would eliminate the humans from this planet, he had no intention of waiting for some great deliverer to come, and he had even less interest in cowering in fear of some human girl.
The Nayii-ke only feared the Slayer. And her domination at Gra-ul's hands would elevate him to a position of great respect among his race. And from there…
Gra-ul smiled. He pushed back his fantasies of conquest in order to not distract him from the task at hand. As a human philosopher put it, "The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step." And it was time to take that step.
He would face the Slayer, play on her fears and manipulate her into being his slave. Or possibly just kill her.
He hadn't decided yet.
Gra-ul watched as the humans began again their search for him. As they moved further and further away the smell of the Slayer's emotions became more faint.
Those fears would be her undoing. And what incredibly mundane fears they were. To think, a Slayer, a predatory and solitary being by nature, would be frightened of being alone, of having everyone she cared about leave her. What was even more amusing was her fear of enjoying the inherent darkness of a Slayer too much. That she would give up and become like her enemy, or even worse, by her own standards begin to crave it, to need the darkness with every fiber of her being.
Gra-ul stifled back laughter.
And to make matters even more interesting, many of her fears involved the male that was aiding her. Fear of losing him as a potential mate.
Predictable, as always.
In Gra-ul's experience, humans, despite baseless beliefs that they were greater than all other species on this world, demon and non-demon alike, never did fail to show him that they were just as much slaves to the call of their hormones as any other species.
He concentrated on his powers and began his mental assault, sending wave after wave of mental suggestions to her, and thusly making her more susceptible to his control later. He made sure to emphasize the thoughts of inadequacy. Little by little he had been breaking her will from afar for the past few days, his victory nearly assured.
But the question still remained. Would he control her, or kill her?
Decisions. Decisions.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Buffy felt her depression slide over her like some tangible thing. It burdened her, making every step she took heavy, each breath labored, and concentration impossible. Her thoughts were like a second voice, telling her how lowly and pathetic she was.
[}God! What am I doing?!? Xander will never want me! He's known me too long. Hell, he practically sees right through me. He knows every horrible thing about me. Things I don't even want to admit to myself. And even if I got him drunk enough to want me, he deserves so much more than what I can offer. I just don't have it in me to be normal. I belong in the dark… Away from people like him.{]
The pain was nearly unbearable. The urge to cry, incredible.
But she trudged on. She was the Slayer, after all. It was her mission. Her Duty.
Even death wouldn't let her abandon that.
[}I should have stayed dead.{]
Her grip on her stake was slack and, unbeknownst to her, it began to slip from her grip. It fell to the earth of the park with a dull thud.
"Buffy?" Xander asked worriedly.
Xander's words didn't register with her. Nothing at this point would, really. She just kept walking. Her movements stiff and forced, almost robotic, Xander thought. He picked up her abandoned weapon and hurried after her, yelling her name.
There was something horribly wrong about the situation to him.
Buffy was at war. Her inherent slayer instincts were fighting Gra-ul's mental barrage of suggestion. But all this was occurring at an unconscious level. One Buffy couldn't grasp, because the voice in the back of her mind had grown. Now instead of just a constant stream of negative thoughts, Buffy was seeing images. Events that never happened or happened differently were being experienced by her.
And they were breaking her.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
"But Xander… How could you do this?"
"Do what?" he asked, his annoyance very evident to Buffy. His luggage laid atop his bed, and was being filled with clothes as he tossed them in straight from the closet in an almost frenzied fashion.
"But you're leaving?"
"Yeah. So what? It's not like you weren't expecting this."
"But I thought…" She shook her head, abandoning whatever it was she was about to let slip. "What did I do?" she asked him, her voice quivering. "I mean…"
He interrupted her with an outstretched hand. The look on his face was one of incredulity. "What did YOU do? Buff, wake up. Not everything's got to do with you." He returned to his packing. "I want a better life and that means leaving here." He sighed exasperatedly. "I swear you can be such a brat." He looked up at her again, saw what she was doing, and then rolled his eyes. "And stop crying. That's just being childish."
At his last words, Buffy moved her hand to her face and felt the salty lines of tears. She hadn't even realized she was crying. She looked to the floor in shame. Her attention was brought back to Xander as she heard him zipping up his suitcase.
"Xander, please don't leave. I'll do anything."
He laughed. "Oh, that's rich. Anything, huh? Funny, considering you've never done 'anything' for me before." He hefted the suitcase off the bed and began to walk away. But then he just stopped. He looked back to her. "Let me ask you something, Buffy. Just where do I fit in your life?"
Buffy looked confused.
"Who am I to you, Buffy?" he continued. "What part do I play in this sick, twisted show that's your life, huh? It's certainly not as the 'love of your life.' Hell, I'm not even the 'past love.' And it's certainly not the 'best friend.' No, that title belongs to Willow. Something you've stolen from me, by the way."
He advanced toward her, menacingly, and Buffy found herself doing something she rarely did even in the face of the most terrifying of monsters: Backing away.
"Tell me, Buffy. Just what the hell am I to you? Huh? What?" Each sentence was punctuated with anger and resentment but his voice remained eerily quiet, as if he was discussing something as trivial and unimportant as the weather. "What am I, the 'guy friend'? I'm not even that, am I?"
Buffy's back hit the wall. Now there was nowhere else for her to go.
He was only a few inches from her. But instead of the usual comfort, his close proximity brought only fear. Buffy trembled at the thought of what he might say next, and yet she could do nothing but listen.
The venomous words came as quietly as before. "No, I'm not the 'guy friend.' Hell, I'm not even a friend. No, you see, Buffy, friends show each other respect. And you've never respected me." His eyes widened in realization. "Oh, I get it. I understand now. I'm your pet. Give me a treat, and I'll follow you around forever, right?"
Buffy started to shake her head, wanting desperately to prove to him that he was so much more than that, but she never got the chance.
"Well, guess what, Buff… I deserve better than that. I mean, you died, you selfish bitch, and the worst part was that you wanted it. You were perfectly happy to leave everything as it was; perfectly content to just rot in your grave with the knowledge that I meant nothing to you." Xander looked pensive for a moment then added, "I guess I was wrong. This IS about you, after all. Looks like your self-centeredness was actually on the money, for once." He shook his head sadly. "I've wasted my time here. Good bye."
As he was turning away, Buffy couldn't help but say, in a quiet voice, "I don't want to lose you."
Xander stopped immediately. He turned slowly toward her again, a grin on his face. When his eyes met hers, he scoffed. "Please. Lose me? Buffy… You never had me."
"You were never going to take him away from me, you know."
Buffy noticed Anya hanging by the door. Only she was no longer Anya; she was Anyanka.
Her face was covered in veins that stood out amongst her skin and her nose looked more pointed then it did when she had been human. She watched horrified as she and Xander shared a passionate kiss, the both of them clawing at each other as if they were going to make love right there in front of her. They pulled away, reluctantly it seemed, panting heated and lust filled breaths. Then Anya turned around in her embrace with Xander to give Buffy a look of triumph and superiority. Xander proceeded to kiss along her neck.
With her eyes on Buffy as she spoke, Anya said to Xander, "You're going to like being a demon, Xander."
At this point, Xander stopped kissing along her neck to also look at Buffy. With a smirk on his face, he told Anya, "Oh… it's a little late for that…"
Then his features contorted, his eyes became yellow, and his teeth grew into fangs.
"… Lover."
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Xander was using reserves that he wasn't aware that he'd had to keep his calm.
And those reserves were rapidly depleting.
Xander wasn't stupid; living on the Hell Mouth had taught him when to recognize a trap. And having a suddenly catatonic Buffy while hunting a dangerous demon definitely qualified. As he tried to snap her out of her trance, he did his best to simultaneously look for any oncoming attackers. He didn't see anything and that worried him even more. If a vampire just suddenly showed up at least he'd know what to do.
But like this… He just didn't know what he had to do to protect her. And that never failed to scare him.
"Come on, Buff," he urged to her while shaking her shoulders, as if she were just sleeping. "Bad guys can't possibly be far away."
It was a stray moment when his eyes just happened to see a faint movement up in the trees.
Aiming a spear.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Buffy felt so lost. She just couldn't imagine living her life without her mother; and yet, she was supposed to do exactly that now. She couldn't understand how the world would put that on her. After all the tragedy she had lived through, she thought that this was more than she could bear.
And what truly scared her was that she was just expected to deal with life as if everything was normal. But having her mother was normal for her. Despite the people that she had lost along her path, her mother had always been a part of her life, to help her make sense of things, when no one, not Willow, or Xander, or even Giles could.
She leaned her head back further into Angel's shoulder as she looked upon the fresh grave that held her mother's corpse. She was so desperate for comfort. She just wanted someone to take her away from it all; to just make sure tomorrow never came for her.
Without taking her eyes away from the grave, she spoke to Angel. "The funeral was..." she sighed, "it was brutal, but it's tomorrow that I'm worried about."
"What's tomorrow?"
She spoke her fears to Angel, just like she used to, hoping perhaps she could retrieve feelings that she had believed were buried. "That's exactly what I don't know. Up until now, I ... I've had a road map. Things to do every minute, having to do with Mom."
"Tomorrow the stuff of everyday living resumes," he tried to console her, trying to be her road map, not realizing he was telling her exactly what she didn't want to hear.
"And everybody expects me to know how to do it, because... I'm so strong," she finished sarcastically.
Strong. She hated that word.
"You just need some time. I'm sure everybody understands that."
"Time's not the issue. I can stick wood in vampires... but Mom was the strong one in real life. She always knew how to make things better... just what to say."
"Yeah... you'll find your way. I mean, not all at once, but..."
Buffy shook her head. "I don't know. I keep thinking about it... when I found her. If I had just gotten there ten minutes earlier..."
"But you weren't." There was a sudden shift in his tone. It sounded… colder. Almost like…
Angelus.
"You weren't there," he continued. "You never are when people really need you."
Shocked, she turned her head to him slowly. "What?"
"If you'd just gone home, instead of making googly eyes with Xander, you could have saved her. But, oh no, you have to hang around him fawning like a fourteen-year-old because he made you feel like a real woman for a few minutes."
"Angel?" Her voice sounded weak and small.
He pushed her away roughly and stood up. For a moment he just looked at her with a look of something akin to disgust on his face. He shook his head and said, "You know, you're a lot of things Buffy, but strong isn't one of them."
"Yeah, no kidding," a familiar voice said from behind her.
Buffy turned her head to the right to see Bry looking at her angrily.
"Bry?"
"I don't care what Willow thought, she wasn't worth bringing back," he told Angel. He then directed his words to Buffy. "Look at you. You're pathetic. I look at you everyday, and all I see is this whiny, selfish, freak of nature, who wouldn't be worth the leather of her jackets if it weren't for her ability to break stuff. You don't deserve your friends. And from what I've seen, if it weren't for the fact that you do have powers, they wouldn't want anything to do with you. I mean, would someone please explain to me why you were worth bringing back but my brother wasn't."
"I sure can't," another voice said. Buffy looked past Bry to see Dawn approaching her, while saying, "If it were up to me, I would have had my mother brought back. But no one asked me. Typical."
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Reacting with nothing other then instinct, Xander threw himself and Buffy to the ground in time to only narrowly avoid being skewered by the spear. The weapon bounced off the ground with a thunk and skidded past him. As he looked up, a dark figure came down upon him in a blur, landing fewer than ten feet from him.
And Buffy was still showing no signs of moving.
The demon was gray skinned and wearing a black cloak. But the most distinguishing features were a series of bright blue streaks on his face. Whether they were natural markings or some form of face paint Xander didn't know, and frankly, at the moment, didn't care.
What he did know and care about was that he needed to protect Buffy.
Assuming that this was the Charm Demon that they were supposed to be hunting, Xander grabbed the long ceremonial silver dagger that Buffy had carried with her. Remembering from Willow's read out sheet that this demon would attempt to charm him with the powerful suggestion of his voice, Xander began to sing to block out any possible attempts from the demon to make him a slave.
"This is the song that doesn't end!" He stood up, still singing, "Yes, it goes on-and-on, my friend!" He charged, trying to predict the demon's next move, all the while still singing, "Some people, started singing it, not knowing what it was!"
The gray demon, dodged Xander's slashes from the dagger, jumping back constantly, in hopes of getting a little more space between them.
And still Xander sung, "But they'll continue singing it forever, just because…"
The demon caught the arm holding the dagger with a powerful grip. Without thinking, Xander launched a fist directly into the demon's face. Immediately, it let go of Xander and stumbled backward gracelessly.
"This is the song that doesn't end!"
Xander couldn't know that Buffy's hand had moved.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Buffy couldn't understand how her father could say such things to her. All this time she had thought that she had been doing a great job with Dawn. Granted, she had known that she could never take the place of their mother, but she never really tried to either. While sometimes the results were mixed, and it had been rocky in the beginning, it felt to her that they had been bonding.
Her sister had been doing better. Truly better.
So why would her father tell her these things?
"Buffy!"
"Huh?" Her thoughts had distracted her from her father's ramblings.
"Oh, I can't believe this. No, wait, I can. How do you expect to be a good role model when you can't even listen to your own? Buffy, I can't do this anymore. I can't have you risking Dawn's welfare any longer."
"Fight it," something inside Buffy told her. Something strong, commanding, and confident.
"Buffy, pay attention! Can't you hear me?!? Don't you understand?!? I'm taking Dawn away!"
"You're better than this," the voice said again.
"Forget it! It's pointless talking to you!" Hank continued. "You're just an immature girl who's in way over her head! How could I possibly have expected you to change."
"I believe in you," the voice said. But this time, it felt almost recognizable. She could feel a sense of respect that had been earned.
And then… Buffy could take no more.
"Dad!" Her father seemed surprised at her loud outburst. As if it was impossible for her to even think to speak against him. She spoke clearly and from the heart. "I can't be doing this, Dad. People need me, and talking to you is only distracting me from what I have to do."
Her father seemed less substantial to her then. As if he was fading away into nothing.
"I'm a great role model. Dawn loves me. She feels safe with me, and she wants to be with me."
His image became darker, blurrier.
"You're not taking her away."
And then he was gone.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Gra-ul was starting to get concerned. He had expected to kill this man with the throw of his spear; thus allowing him to focus solely on breaking her will further. But the human was annoyingly persistent in fighting him. Normally, he would have used the power of his voice to plant powerful suggestions into the human's consciousness, but its annoying singing was eliminating that possibility. And what was even more frustrating was that he couldn't risk using his mental powers for fear of losing his control over the Slayer.
He had to admit, this Slayer was stubborn. Even with his Talisman of Kenrok, which focused his ability to relay suggestion from words into a mental attack, he had only managed some headway into breaking her resistance.
Nothing was going as he had planned.
The human changed his slashing tactic into a stab. Gra-ul brought his arm done, in hopes of catching the weapon and wrenching it from the human's grip. But the attack had been a feint and the human yanked the weapon upward.
And it still sang that annoying song.
The dagger created a painful gash from his chin to the bottom of his thin, stretched lips. What was worse, for Gra-ul, was that the wound was accompanied by a painful burning.
The human was using a silver dagger.
Gra-ul's anger came out as an intense hissing roar. This human had gone beyond being a nuisance. He sent wave after wave of intense and powerful mental suggestion, hoping the earlier damage done to the Slayer would be enough to keep her from reviving long enough for him to destroy this human.
As the human began to fall backward under his barrage, Gra-ul smiled again.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Buffy was no longer sure where she was. It was dark, but not altogether unfamiliar or unpleasant. She didn't feel safe exactly, but she didn't feel any danger either. No extremes… just existence.
But that changed in an instant.
Voices.
They surrounded her, bombarding her with their words. Some pleasant. Some not.
At first it was overwhelming, but something inside her allowed her to focus on one voice in particular. A strong, warm, loving voice. It didn't speak of fear, or of praise like many of the others did. This one simply was stating a truth over and over again.
"You are worth it… You are worth it… You are worth it…"
She focused on it even more, sensing the voice coming closer and closer. Until it was more than a voice. It was a person.
A person she loved.
"Mom?"
"Hello, Buffy."
She ran to her mother and embraced her, allowing their love to warm her in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. Something missed. Something needed. And in this embrace, it was given back to her.
"Mom," she whispered, a hint of reverence in her voice. "Please tell me this is real."
"As real as my love for you. Did you doubt that I loved you?"
"Never." Buffy felt as if she had never said a truer thing in her life. And in her heart, she knew she hadn't.
"Then never doubt that I am here." Joyce pulled back from her in order to face her daughter. "There's a lot you have to do. And you've been doing it, Buffy. But more is still left."
Buffy sighed, "Yeah, I know. Destiny, right?"
Joyce shook her head patiently. "No, Buffy… Life. You have life left to live. Your peace will come to you in the end, as it does for us all. But life is a gift. Appreciate it, and the people you share it with."
Buffy frowned, "But Mom… The First Slayer, she said, she said that death was my gift."
Now it was Joyce who was frowning. "I thought I told you not to let other people define who you are?" she said in a mock scold. "I know it feels as if your calling limits your choices, but you need to remember that there are others who get even less than what you have. Fight for them. Live a good life. Help your sister. Find yourself a future, if you can. Nothing is guaranteed for anyone, Buffy. Not even a Slayer's future. I guess what I'm trying to say is: make the most of the time you have, and try not to die again until I'm a grandmother." Joyce's mock frown had gradually twisted into a mischievous grin as she was speaking.
Buffy felt an enormous peace spread throughout her, as a radiant smile graced her face. "You always did know exactly what to say, Mom."
Joyce laughed warmly. "No, Buffy… You do. This place," she said while indicating their unusual surroundings, "is yours," she finished. "There's nothing here that you don't already have with you. I am here. As are everyone who ever touched your life. This is where you keep us. And we'll always be here when you need us, to guide you in the tough moments."
And then the room seemed to be swirling around Buffy, and the faces of the voices that spoke of love to her, showed themselves.
Buffy couldn't remember ever feeling more loved.
But then… Light came.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
It was like a thousand firecrackers going off inside his head. His cranium felt as if it were about to burst. All of his greatest fears came to haunt him in one painful barrage after another.
"Useless. Pathetic. Loser," the waves told him over and over again.
He knew they were true. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to end it all. And that's when he noticed the dagger in his hand.
"So easy. Just do it. The pain will all be over. Nothing left to live for anyway."
The waves were right. He needed to end it. There was no point in fighting anymore. He only brought misery to the people he loved anyway. It would be better for everyone. And… so easy. All he had to do was lift the dagger up…
Gra-ul kept up the mental attack, watching as the human took the dagger, lifted it up high…
But then there was pain. He fell to the ground, his concentration broken. He only had time turn himself around, before the Slayer angrily kicked him away. His body spun in the air from the force of the blow.
He didn't see the tree before he crashed into it.
"Leave him alone."
Gra-ul spat blood. What had been inflicted upon him wouldn't kill him; but that didn't, however, stop it from hurting any less. And pain clouded his concentration. Slayers were naturally immune to the power of the Nayii-Ke's voice and even with his Talisman of Kenrok, it took focused power to weaken her. In his state, he could not directly attack her and hope to win.
As he contemplated fleeing, he saw that the human who attacked him earlier was still in his trance, the dagger poised high in the air, awaiting the final command to finish it. He also noticed that the Slayer saw this as well.
A direct attack would fail. But perhaps an indirect attack…
"Xander? What are you doing with the knife?" There was no small amount of fear in her voice.
"I wouldn't do anything rash, Slayer. He's fully under my control," Gra-ul said once he had stood up. He honestly ached from the Slayer's attack, but what hurt the worst was the cut on his face that the human had given him with the silver dagger.
Buffy turned to him, with angry passion in her eyes. "Leave him alone."
"I think I'll hold onto my trump card, thank you." Buffy glared at him some more but didn't move further. "Good. Now walk away and I'll release your boyfriend."
Buffy scoffed, "Please! Like I'd fall for that!… And… besides… he's not my boyfriend," she finished rather lamely.
"True. But you want him. You ache for him. I can feel it." While Buffy was acting brave, her emotions gave themselves away to Gra-ul. "Why don't you tell him how you feel now. He can hear you. He can't really understand, but he can hear you."
"I know you're planning on your psycho-babble mojo to have me quaking in my boots, but I'm afraid you're forgetting one thing."
Gra-ul smiled, amused at the brave front she was putting up and deciding to play along. "Oh, and what's that?"
"Slayers think on their feet." Buffy's foot kicked up Gra-ul's forgotten spear. While it was in the air she caught it and threw it at him.
His eyes widened as he gave the command for Xander to kill himself. Then the spear pierced him.
After throwing the spear, Buffy didn't bother to see whether it landed or not. Instead she ran as fast as her legs could move toward Xander. When he was only inches away from plunging the blade down into his stomach, Buffy caught the dagger with one hand and then punched him with the other.
Gra-ul's sudden loss of concentration broke a hole in the trance upon Xander. His hand still clutched the dagger; however, and as he fell backwards from Buffy's punch, the dagger sliced her hand. She cried out in pain. Buffy's pain allowed him something else to focus on for a second.
Gra-ul ripped the spear from his shoulder and began to limp away from the Slayer, not having any interest in dieing that night.
Buffy turned to Xander wanting to take the dagger from his hands before he tried to kill himself again, but he surprised her by winking at her and then tossing the dagger up to her.
She caught it, flipped it so that she was holding the blade, winked at him in turn and then spun on her heels to face the fleeing demon. She threw the silver dagger.
End over end it spun until it found demon flesh. Gra-ul looked down in his chest to see a metal tip sticking out. As he fell to his knees and felt the same burning that he felt on his face, he knew that he was not getting up again.
"Slayer," he yelled. "His light… will never take you away from the darkness."
"Yeah, yeah," she said quietly. She turned toward Xander and helped him up. "Are you okay?"
"A small headache, and the world's spinning a little more than usual, but other than that…" He tried to walk but lost his balance and tripped into Buffy's arms, his face only inches away from hers. He gave her a small lazy smile in gratitude. "On second thought, walking may be an issue for a few minutes."
Buffy smiled at him, and looked into his eyes, feeling a lot braver than she had recently. "That's okay, Xand. My head's spinning a little too."
******To*Be*Continued******
This chapter is dedicated to Wayne who sent me the absolute coolest feedback ever.
**Ooohhhhhhh, you just know there's a possible installment of a fresh chapter when an author start's REPOSTING their previous effort.
**And trust me this is a story worth reading. So all of you out there who have not had the opportunity to read this piece, put aside an hour of your time and please do so. And for all you B/X fan's who have, stop what you're doing and re-fresh your memories. So few B/X pieces are able to combine angst, humor and drama so effortlessly. Ray has a talent of getting into the head of his subjects (B & X) and invent a realistic storyline and dialogue that is believable to the characters portrayed on BtVS.
**So catch up on the "WDIFIYL" series, you can't go wrong....this is Ray here after all!
**Keep the Faith - Wayne
**Sunday, March 10, 2002
I don't think I've ever felt better to be a writer then after I read that. Thank you so much, Wayne. I was going to put this little dedication at the top but since everyone tends to skip the headers… You know who you are… I felt it would be better appreciated here.
Ray Rivera, aka Wicked Raygun
AUTHOR: Wicked Raygun
E-MAIL: wicked_raygun@hotmail.com
SUMMARY: Is it worth the risk to tell someone how you feel, when they might not feel the same way?
RATING: TV-14. No worse then what's on the show
SPOILERS: Up to "The Gift" and then it goes on its merry way into an alternate universe. I started this puppy LONG before season 6 started and although I did use a few possible spoilers they're no biggies.
DISCLAIMOR: I refuse to believe this is necessary. Does anyone here actually believe I own this stuff in any way? Well… To the folks who do own a piece of the Buffster and/or her friends and enemies, I mean you no harm. I'm simply borrowing your toys to put on a little puppet show. I promise to bring them all back in near-mint condition. Even Spike.
FEEDBACK: Everyone needs a little love. It makes the world go round and writers post faster.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'd like to take this time to thank everyone who's given me feedback throughout this endeavor. It means a lot to me and I thank you all from my heart. It makes me feel special. So without further ado… Thanks to (In no particular order): C-Man, Ozmandayus, Danii, Tim Creecy, Jarrod Harmier, Xandman2000, Kenneth Carter, Stone Cold, Chorlton, Darkdyer, Jennifer L. Hallmark, Michael aka Mutant, Socrates, Jason W. Thompson, Wayne, Bob Regent, Brooke H., Lynne, Zauriel Angelus, Jai L, Varthan, Calen, Top Quark, Lisa, Red, Faith, Bolo, Jane, Furious George, Kris, and last but not least Seth5095.
Also a special mention to Krisseth2000, who seems to really, really like this story. Thank you for the feedback.
If I have missed anyone please e-mail me off list. I tried to track down everyone I could, but I may have missed some people. The search at the BX_Fanfic archive isn't the greatest out there.
Extra Special thanks goes out to my beta-reader Lori Bush. She is truly a godsend. She's also an amazing writer, here's the link to her stories at fanfiction.net:
http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=17172
By the way, for anybody who needs a refresher or is coming into this new you can find the rest of this story at fanfiction.net, located here:
http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=79383
************
Chapter Four
************
Xander had remembered hearing somewhere that coyotes, when caught in a fur trap, would often gnaw off their own trapped appendage in order to escape the clutches of the cruel contraption. He remembered this fact throughout his childhood, and into his adolescence. Even now that he was, for all intents and purposes, an adult, it had stayed with him. And the reason it had was because there were times in his life where he truly identified with that coyote. Like those times when he locked himself in his room, throwing his pillows over his ears to drown out the noise of his parents yelling at each other, or when Willow's father had caught him stealing a quarter from the mall fountain, or when he had to admit to Giles that he had Amy cast a love spell for him, or when he had to endure a period of geography with Mister Walter Means in the ninth grade.
But none of those situations could compare with this.
Here he was, in one of the public parks Sunnydale's previous mayor was oh so happy to fund, with one of his best friends, hunting a demon, and with the tension in the air so thick that Xander worried that he was going to leap six feet in the air at the slightest stimulus. And it wasn't the demon that had them jumpy.
Earlier that day, he had confronted Buffy about kissing Spike. While starting off heated, the confrontation degraded quickly. Neither had the will to pursue their anger. So Buffy had said she was sorry and Xander voiced his concerns. The fight resulted in Buffy feeling defensive and Xander feeling disappointed. But there was hope. They had agreed that they would talk, really talk, after patrol. Their bond of friendship could be shaken, but never broken, so there was confidence that all would be sorted out, despite the sense of dread that each felt. But that small seed of discomfort grew and now, what had, at the time, seemed like a perfect solution, now loomed over them like an ominous, dark cloud that would bring either life-giving rain or catastrophic floods.
There was too much at stake for Xander to be calm.
Unbeknownst, to him, Buffy was entertaining similar ideas. The constant and unbearable silence had allowed her ample time to ponder just how she had managed to screw up such a seemingly foolproof plan. And she knew the answer. She had not accounted for the unforeseen variable of anxiety. She had sworn to herself to tell Xander how she felt this very night. She didn't enjoy feeling like a lovesick teenager; and if dying had taught her anything, it was that she shouldn't take anything or anyone for granted because nothing was guaranteed.
Not life and certainly not love.
So it was up to her to find her happiness and not just expect someone to hand it to her. She had to tell Xander how she felt, because regret was the worst kind of pain, because he deserved to know the truth, because he had done that much for her, once upon a time, and because she wanted to feel truly loved and alive again and there was no part of her that doubted that Xander could make her feel that.
If he felt the same way.
Buffy was truly learning the truth behind the expression "easier said then done," because despite how convincing that all sounded to her she couldn't force her mouth to do anything other then open and close like a fish. The words were there; they just refused to be said.
Buffy Summers, slayer of vampires, demons, and hell gods, was afraid to bare her heart again.
So to compensate for her extreme discomfort, she tried to focus on hunting Sunnydale's latest crisis demon. But even that wasn't working, because after two hours of hunting in uncomfortable silence their fruitless searching hadn't revealed so much as a vampire let alone a demon enchanting the locals to do whatever it wanted or needed.
[}Stupid Hell Mouth.{]
After another five minutes the silence was disrupted by Xander. "That's it! I can't take this any longer."
Buffy, turned to her friend, shocked that the he had finally said something.
"Buffy, when was the last time we ever spent this much time together without talking?
"Uh, well…" Buffy searched for a reply, but was cut off by Xander.
"I'll tell you when. Two weeks from never. I don't know about you but this is starting to drive me insane. I mean, obviously, we're both worried about the same thing: our friendship."
[}Boy, does he ever not know the half of it,{] Buffy thought self-deprecatingly.
"We've planned this big powwow and now we're nervous about it and it's turned into the pink elephant in the corner of the room that no one wants to talk about."
"Xander," she said, finally regaining her mental capacities, "you're right. We-we're friends. We're just going to talk later about some important stuff. It's not even that big a deal really. We shouldn't be here standing around nervously with weird awkward silences or halting small talk. We're friends."
"The best of friends," he corrected with a smile.
"Evil, beware."
"Right."
"Yeah."
They stood there for a while, smiling awkwardly, and each expecting the other to contribute some sort of conversation. Xander shifted his weight from foot to foot uncomfortably. Buffy twirled the stake in her hand with tense fingers.
And then finally, Xander said, "We should, you know…"
"Find the demon," she finished for him.
"Yeah. Scooby honor and all that." Xander then placed two fingers to his forehead and made an awkward Boy Scout salute. Buffy laughed forcefully, then cleared her throat, turned around and started after their demon again, more nervous then before.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
He watched from a tree as the two humans below him spoke uncomfortably. Their feelings and thoughts drifted up to him like the smells of a glorious banquet. The inherent demonic powers of his race allowed him to sift through the various feelings and thoughts like a fine connoisseur. And what emanated the most off of the two humans below him was fear.
Gra-ul loved fear. Out of all human emotions, it was the easiest to manipulate and the most fun. Humans were, as a species, slaves to their fears. Unlike many demons, who would seek out and destroy whatever caused them unease let alone fear, humans would often spend their entire lives seeking a way to avoid it, preferring denial to confrontation. And all humans feared something, no matter how above it all they pretended to be.
And the hilarious part to Gra-ul was that humans feared damn near everything.
From the wildest of beasts to the smallest of insects, from the most imposing of heights to the slapping crash of the ocean against the shores. But for every human that feared something as tangible as a spider there were countless others that feared the things that could never physically hurt them, things that were utterly trivial: rejection, the disapproval of others, loss of petty possessions or stature, and of course, Gra-ul's favorite, change.
Humans were such creatures of habit that it never ceased to amuse him that something as mundane and inevitable as a change in routine, belief or circumstance would rattle them so completely. Many demons thought that humans were far too complex when Gra-ul knew that the truth was completely the opposite. They were too predictable. Merely whisper into their minds that their life was changing for the worse and that they were powerless to stop it and they would react violently.
Gra-ul himself had no real fear. Oh, he had the normal self-preservation instincts all beings had, but he was not ruled by his emotions as irrationally as the humans were. He was active and ambitious for his race, the Nayii-ke. And while others of his race were content to use their powers only when they needed to, Gra-ul loved the challenge of controlling and manipulating the lesser beings. And while he did in fact believe in the coming of the Great Purge that would eliminate the humans from this planet, he had no intention of waiting for some great deliverer to come, and he had even less interest in cowering in fear of some human girl.
The Nayii-ke only feared the Slayer. And her domination at Gra-ul's hands would elevate him to a position of great respect among his race. And from there…
Gra-ul smiled. He pushed back his fantasies of conquest in order to not distract him from the task at hand. As a human philosopher put it, "The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step." And it was time to take that step.
He would face the Slayer, play on her fears and manipulate her into being his slave. Or possibly just kill her.
He hadn't decided yet.
Gra-ul watched as the humans began again their search for him. As they moved further and further away the smell of the Slayer's emotions became more faint.
Those fears would be her undoing. And what incredibly mundane fears they were. To think, a Slayer, a predatory and solitary being by nature, would be frightened of being alone, of having everyone she cared about leave her. What was even more amusing was her fear of enjoying the inherent darkness of a Slayer too much. That she would give up and become like her enemy, or even worse, by her own standards begin to crave it, to need the darkness with every fiber of her being.
Gra-ul stifled back laughter.
And to make matters even more interesting, many of her fears involved the male that was aiding her. Fear of losing him as a potential mate.
Predictable, as always.
In Gra-ul's experience, humans, despite baseless beliefs that they were greater than all other species on this world, demon and non-demon alike, never did fail to show him that they were just as much slaves to the call of their hormones as any other species.
He concentrated on his powers and began his mental assault, sending wave after wave of mental suggestions to her, and thusly making her more susceptible to his control later. He made sure to emphasize the thoughts of inadequacy. Little by little he had been breaking her will from afar for the past few days, his victory nearly assured.
But the question still remained. Would he control her, or kill her?
Decisions. Decisions.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Buffy felt her depression slide over her like some tangible thing. It burdened her, making every step she took heavy, each breath labored, and concentration impossible. Her thoughts were like a second voice, telling her how lowly and pathetic she was.
[}God! What am I doing?!? Xander will never want me! He's known me too long. Hell, he practically sees right through me. He knows every horrible thing about me. Things I don't even want to admit to myself. And even if I got him drunk enough to want me, he deserves so much more than what I can offer. I just don't have it in me to be normal. I belong in the dark… Away from people like him.{]
The pain was nearly unbearable. The urge to cry, incredible.
But she trudged on. She was the Slayer, after all. It was her mission. Her Duty.
Even death wouldn't let her abandon that.
[}I should have stayed dead.{]
Her grip on her stake was slack and, unbeknownst to her, it began to slip from her grip. It fell to the earth of the park with a dull thud.
"Buffy?" Xander asked worriedly.
Xander's words didn't register with her. Nothing at this point would, really. She just kept walking. Her movements stiff and forced, almost robotic, Xander thought. He picked up her abandoned weapon and hurried after her, yelling her name.
There was something horribly wrong about the situation to him.
Buffy was at war. Her inherent slayer instincts were fighting Gra-ul's mental barrage of suggestion. But all this was occurring at an unconscious level. One Buffy couldn't grasp, because the voice in the back of her mind had grown. Now instead of just a constant stream of negative thoughts, Buffy was seeing images. Events that never happened or happened differently were being experienced by her.
And they were breaking her.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
"But Xander… How could you do this?"
"Do what?" he asked, his annoyance very evident to Buffy. His luggage laid atop his bed, and was being filled with clothes as he tossed them in straight from the closet in an almost frenzied fashion.
"But you're leaving?"
"Yeah. So what? It's not like you weren't expecting this."
"But I thought…" She shook her head, abandoning whatever it was she was about to let slip. "What did I do?" she asked him, her voice quivering. "I mean…"
He interrupted her with an outstretched hand. The look on his face was one of incredulity. "What did YOU do? Buff, wake up. Not everything's got to do with you." He returned to his packing. "I want a better life and that means leaving here." He sighed exasperatedly. "I swear you can be such a brat." He looked up at her again, saw what she was doing, and then rolled his eyes. "And stop crying. That's just being childish."
At his last words, Buffy moved her hand to her face and felt the salty lines of tears. She hadn't even realized she was crying. She looked to the floor in shame. Her attention was brought back to Xander as she heard him zipping up his suitcase.
"Xander, please don't leave. I'll do anything."
He laughed. "Oh, that's rich. Anything, huh? Funny, considering you've never done 'anything' for me before." He hefted the suitcase off the bed and began to walk away. But then he just stopped. He looked back to her. "Let me ask you something, Buffy. Just where do I fit in your life?"
Buffy looked confused.
"Who am I to you, Buffy?" he continued. "What part do I play in this sick, twisted show that's your life, huh? It's certainly not as the 'love of your life.' Hell, I'm not even the 'past love.' And it's certainly not the 'best friend.' No, that title belongs to Willow. Something you've stolen from me, by the way."
He advanced toward her, menacingly, and Buffy found herself doing something she rarely did even in the face of the most terrifying of monsters: Backing away.
"Tell me, Buffy. Just what the hell am I to you? Huh? What?" Each sentence was punctuated with anger and resentment but his voice remained eerily quiet, as if he was discussing something as trivial and unimportant as the weather. "What am I, the 'guy friend'? I'm not even that, am I?"
Buffy's back hit the wall. Now there was nowhere else for her to go.
He was only a few inches from her. But instead of the usual comfort, his close proximity brought only fear. Buffy trembled at the thought of what he might say next, and yet she could do nothing but listen.
The venomous words came as quietly as before. "No, I'm not the 'guy friend.' Hell, I'm not even a friend. No, you see, Buffy, friends show each other respect. And you've never respected me." His eyes widened in realization. "Oh, I get it. I understand now. I'm your pet. Give me a treat, and I'll follow you around forever, right?"
Buffy started to shake her head, wanting desperately to prove to him that he was so much more than that, but she never got the chance.
"Well, guess what, Buff… I deserve better than that. I mean, you died, you selfish bitch, and the worst part was that you wanted it. You were perfectly happy to leave everything as it was; perfectly content to just rot in your grave with the knowledge that I meant nothing to you." Xander looked pensive for a moment then added, "I guess I was wrong. This IS about you, after all. Looks like your self-centeredness was actually on the money, for once." He shook his head sadly. "I've wasted my time here. Good bye."
As he was turning away, Buffy couldn't help but say, in a quiet voice, "I don't want to lose you."
Xander stopped immediately. He turned slowly toward her again, a grin on his face. When his eyes met hers, he scoffed. "Please. Lose me? Buffy… You never had me."
"You were never going to take him away from me, you know."
Buffy noticed Anya hanging by the door. Only she was no longer Anya; she was Anyanka.
Her face was covered in veins that stood out amongst her skin and her nose looked more pointed then it did when she had been human. She watched horrified as she and Xander shared a passionate kiss, the both of them clawing at each other as if they were going to make love right there in front of her. They pulled away, reluctantly it seemed, panting heated and lust filled breaths. Then Anya turned around in her embrace with Xander to give Buffy a look of triumph and superiority. Xander proceeded to kiss along her neck.
With her eyes on Buffy as she spoke, Anya said to Xander, "You're going to like being a demon, Xander."
At this point, Xander stopped kissing along her neck to also look at Buffy. With a smirk on his face, he told Anya, "Oh… it's a little late for that…"
Then his features contorted, his eyes became yellow, and his teeth grew into fangs.
"… Lover."
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Xander was using reserves that he wasn't aware that he'd had to keep his calm.
And those reserves were rapidly depleting.
Xander wasn't stupid; living on the Hell Mouth had taught him when to recognize a trap. And having a suddenly catatonic Buffy while hunting a dangerous demon definitely qualified. As he tried to snap her out of her trance, he did his best to simultaneously look for any oncoming attackers. He didn't see anything and that worried him even more. If a vampire just suddenly showed up at least he'd know what to do.
But like this… He just didn't know what he had to do to protect her. And that never failed to scare him.
"Come on, Buff," he urged to her while shaking her shoulders, as if she were just sleeping. "Bad guys can't possibly be far away."
It was a stray moment when his eyes just happened to see a faint movement up in the trees.
Aiming a spear.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Buffy felt so lost. She just couldn't imagine living her life without her mother; and yet, she was supposed to do exactly that now. She couldn't understand how the world would put that on her. After all the tragedy she had lived through, she thought that this was more than she could bear.
And what truly scared her was that she was just expected to deal with life as if everything was normal. But having her mother was normal for her. Despite the people that she had lost along her path, her mother had always been a part of her life, to help her make sense of things, when no one, not Willow, or Xander, or even Giles could.
She leaned her head back further into Angel's shoulder as she looked upon the fresh grave that held her mother's corpse. She was so desperate for comfort. She just wanted someone to take her away from it all; to just make sure tomorrow never came for her.
Without taking her eyes away from the grave, she spoke to Angel. "The funeral was..." she sighed, "it was brutal, but it's tomorrow that I'm worried about."
"What's tomorrow?"
She spoke her fears to Angel, just like she used to, hoping perhaps she could retrieve feelings that she had believed were buried. "That's exactly what I don't know. Up until now, I ... I've had a road map. Things to do every minute, having to do with Mom."
"Tomorrow the stuff of everyday living resumes," he tried to console her, trying to be her road map, not realizing he was telling her exactly what she didn't want to hear.
"And everybody expects me to know how to do it, because... I'm so strong," she finished sarcastically.
Strong. She hated that word.
"You just need some time. I'm sure everybody understands that."
"Time's not the issue. I can stick wood in vampires... but Mom was the strong one in real life. She always knew how to make things better... just what to say."
"Yeah... you'll find your way. I mean, not all at once, but..."
Buffy shook her head. "I don't know. I keep thinking about it... when I found her. If I had just gotten there ten minutes earlier..."
"But you weren't." There was a sudden shift in his tone. It sounded… colder. Almost like…
Angelus.
"You weren't there," he continued. "You never are when people really need you."
Shocked, she turned her head to him slowly. "What?"
"If you'd just gone home, instead of making googly eyes with Xander, you could have saved her. But, oh no, you have to hang around him fawning like a fourteen-year-old because he made you feel like a real woman for a few minutes."
"Angel?" Her voice sounded weak and small.
He pushed her away roughly and stood up. For a moment he just looked at her with a look of something akin to disgust on his face. He shook his head and said, "You know, you're a lot of things Buffy, but strong isn't one of them."
"Yeah, no kidding," a familiar voice said from behind her.
Buffy turned her head to the right to see Bry looking at her angrily.
"Bry?"
"I don't care what Willow thought, she wasn't worth bringing back," he told Angel. He then directed his words to Buffy. "Look at you. You're pathetic. I look at you everyday, and all I see is this whiny, selfish, freak of nature, who wouldn't be worth the leather of her jackets if it weren't for her ability to break stuff. You don't deserve your friends. And from what I've seen, if it weren't for the fact that you do have powers, they wouldn't want anything to do with you. I mean, would someone please explain to me why you were worth bringing back but my brother wasn't."
"I sure can't," another voice said. Buffy looked past Bry to see Dawn approaching her, while saying, "If it were up to me, I would have had my mother brought back. But no one asked me. Typical."
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Reacting with nothing other then instinct, Xander threw himself and Buffy to the ground in time to only narrowly avoid being skewered by the spear. The weapon bounced off the ground with a thunk and skidded past him. As he looked up, a dark figure came down upon him in a blur, landing fewer than ten feet from him.
And Buffy was still showing no signs of moving.
The demon was gray skinned and wearing a black cloak. But the most distinguishing features were a series of bright blue streaks on his face. Whether they were natural markings or some form of face paint Xander didn't know, and frankly, at the moment, didn't care.
What he did know and care about was that he needed to protect Buffy.
Assuming that this was the Charm Demon that they were supposed to be hunting, Xander grabbed the long ceremonial silver dagger that Buffy had carried with her. Remembering from Willow's read out sheet that this demon would attempt to charm him with the powerful suggestion of his voice, Xander began to sing to block out any possible attempts from the demon to make him a slave.
"This is the song that doesn't end!" He stood up, still singing, "Yes, it goes on-and-on, my friend!" He charged, trying to predict the demon's next move, all the while still singing, "Some people, started singing it, not knowing what it was!"
The gray demon, dodged Xander's slashes from the dagger, jumping back constantly, in hopes of getting a little more space between them.
And still Xander sung, "But they'll continue singing it forever, just because…"
The demon caught the arm holding the dagger with a powerful grip. Without thinking, Xander launched a fist directly into the demon's face. Immediately, it let go of Xander and stumbled backward gracelessly.
"This is the song that doesn't end!"
Xander couldn't know that Buffy's hand had moved.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Buffy couldn't understand how her father could say such things to her. All this time she had thought that she had been doing a great job with Dawn. Granted, she had known that she could never take the place of their mother, but she never really tried to either. While sometimes the results were mixed, and it had been rocky in the beginning, it felt to her that they had been bonding.
Her sister had been doing better. Truly better.
So why would her father tell her these things?
"Buffy!"
"Huh?" Her thoughts had distracted her from her father's ramblings.
"Oh, I can't believe this. No, wait, I can. How do you expect to be a good role model when you can't even listen to your own? Buffy, I can't do this anymore. I can't have you risking Dawn's welfare any longer."
"Fight it," something inside Buffy told her. Something strong, commanding, and confident.
"Buffy, pay attention! Can't you hear me?!? Don't you understand?!? I'm taking Dawn away!"
"You're better than this," the voice said again.
"Forget it! It's pointless talking to you!" Hank continued. "You're just an immature girl who's in way over her head! How could I possibly have expected you to change."
"I believe in you," the voice said. But this time, it felt almost recognizable. She could feel a sense of respect that had been earned.
And then… Buffy could take no more.
"Dad!" Her father seemed surprised at her loud outburst. As if it was impossible for her to even think to speak against him. She spoke clearly and from the heart. "I can't be doing this, Dad. People need me, and talking to you is only distracting me from what I have to do."
Her father seemed less substantial to her then. As if he was fading away into nothing.
"I'm a great role model. Dawn loves me. She feels safe with me, and she wants to be with me."
His image became darker, blurrier.
"You're not taking her away."
And then he was gone.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Gra-ul was starting to get concerned. He had expected to kill this man with the throw of his spear; thus allowing him to focus solely on breaking her will further. But the human was annoyingly persistent in fighting him. Normally, he would have used the power of his voice to plant powerful suggestions into the human's consciousness, but its annoying singing was eliminating that possibility. And what was even more frustrating was that he couldn't risk using his mental powers for fear of losing his control over the Slayer.
He had to admit, this Slayer was stubborn. Even with his Talisman of Kenrok, which focused his ability to relay suggestion from words into a mental attack, he had only managed some headway into breaking her resistance.
Nothing was going as he had planned.
The human changed his slashing tactic into a stab. Gra-ul brought his arm done, in hopes of catching the weapon and wrenching it from the human's grip. But the attack had been a feint and the human yanked the weapon upward.
And it still sang that annoying song.
The dagger created a painful gash from his chin to the bottom of his thin, stretched lips. What was worse, for Gra-ul, was that the wound was accompanied by a painful burning.
The human was using a silver dagger.
Gra-ul's anger came out as an intense hissing roar. This human had gone beyond being a nuisance. He sent wave after wave of intense and powerful mental suggestion, hoping the earlier damage done to the Slayer would be enough to keep her from reviving long enough for him to destroy this human.
As the human began to fall backward under his barrage, Gra-ul smiled again.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
Buffy was no longer sure where she was. It was dark, but not altogether unfamiliar or unpleasant. She didn't feel safe exactly, but she didn't feel any danger either. No extremes… just existence.
But that changed in an instant.
Voices.
They surrounded her, bombarding her with their words. Some pleasant. Some not.
At first it was overwhelming, but something inside her allowed her to focus on one voice in particular. A strong, warm, loving voice. It didn't speak of fear, or of praise like many of the others did. This one simply was stating a truth over and over again.
"You are worth it… You are worth it… You are worth it…"
She focused on it even more, sensing the voice coming closer and closer. Until it was more than a voice. It was a person.
A person she loved.
"Mom?"
"Hello, Buffy."
She ran to her mother and embraced her, allowing their love to warm her in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. Something missed. Something needed. And in this embrace, it was given back to her.
"Mom," she whispered, a hint of reverence in her voice. "Please tell me this is real."
"As real as my love for you. Did you doubt that I loved you?"
"Never." Buffy felt as if she had never said a truer thing in her life. And in her heart, she knew she hadn't.
"Then never doubt that I am here." Joyce pulled back from her in order to face her daughter. "There's a lot you have to do. And you've been doing it, Buffy. But more is still left."
Buffy sighed, "Yeah, I know. Destiny, right?"
Joyce shook her head patiently. "No, Buffy… Life. You have life left to live. Your peace will come to you in the end, as it does for us all. But life is a gift. Appreciate it, and the people you share it with."
Buffy frowned, "But Mom… The First Slayer, she said, she said that death was my gift."
Now it was Joyce who was frowning. "I thought I told you not to let other people define who you are?" she said in a mock scold. "I know it feels as if your calling limits your choices, but you need to remember that there are others who get even less than what you have. Fight for them. Live a good life. Help your sister. Find yourself a future, if you can. Nothing is guaranteed for anyone, Buffy. Not even a Slayer's future. I guess what I'm trying to say is: make the most of the time you have, and try not to die again until I'm a grandmother." Joyce's mock frown had gradually twisted into a mischievous grin as she was speaking.
Buffy felt an enormous peace spread throughout her, as a radiant smile graced her face. "You always did know exactly what to say, Mom."
Joyce laughed warmly. "No, Buffy… You do. This place," she said while indicating their unusual surroundings, "is yours," she finished. "There's nothing here that you don't already have with you. I am here. As are everyone who ever touched your life. This is where you keep us. And we'll always be here when you need us, to guide you in the tough moments."
And then the room seemed to be swirling around Buffy, and the faces of the voices that spoke of love to her, showed themselves.
Buffy couldn't remember ever feeling more loved.
But then… Light came.
~~~~~~***~~~~~~
It was like a thousand firecrackers going off inside his head. His cranium felt as if it were about to burst. All of his greatest fears came to haunt him in one painful barrage after another.
"Useless. Pathetic. Loser," the waves told him over and over again.
He knew they were true. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to end it all. And that's when he noticed the dagger in his hand.
"So easy. Just do it. The pain will all be over. Nothing left to live for anyway."
The waves were right. He needed to end it. There was no point in fighting anymore. He only brought misery to the people he loved anyway. It would be better for everyone. And… so easy. All he had to do was lift the dagger up…
Gra-ul kept up the mental attack, watching as the human took the dagger, lifted it up high…
But then there was pain. He fell to the ground, his concentration broken. He only had time turn himself around, before the Slayer angrily kicked him away. His body spun in the air from the force of the blow.
He didn't see the tree before he crashed into it.
"Leave him alone."
Gra-ul spat blood. What had been inflicted upon him wouldn't kill him; but that didn't, however, stop it from hurting any less. And pain clouded his concentration. Slayers were naturally immune to the power of the Nayii-Ke's voice and even with his Talisman of Kenrok, it took focused power to weaken her. In his state, he could not directly attack her and hope to win.
As he contemplated fleeing, he saw that the human who attacked him earlier was still in his trance, the dagger poised high in the air, awaiting the final command to finish it. He also noticed that the Slayer saw this as well.
A direct attack would fail. But perhaps an indirect attack…
"Xander? What are you doing with the knife?" There was no small amount of fear in her voice.
"I wouldn't do anything rash, Slayer. He's fully under my control," Gra-ul said once he had stood up. He honestly ached from the Slayer's attack, but what hurt the worst was the cut on his face that the human had given him with the silver dagger.
Buffy turned to him, with angry passion in her eyes. "Leave him alone."
"I think I'll hold onto my trump card, thank you." Buffy glared at him some more but didn't move further. "Good. Now walk away and I'll release your boyfriend."
Buffy scoffed, "Please! Like I'd fall for that!… And… besides… he's not my boyfriend," she finished rather lamely.
"True. But you want him. You ache for him. I can feel it." While Buffy was acting brave, her emotions gave themselves away to Gra-ul. "Why don't you tell him how you feel now. He can hear you. He can't really understand, but he can hear you."
"I know you're planning on your psycho-babble mojo to have me quaking in my boots, but I'm afraid you're forgetting one thing."
Gra-ul smiled, amused at the brave front she was putting up and deciding to play along. "Oh, and what's that?"
"Slayers think on their feet." Buffy's foot kicked up Gra-ul's forgotten spear. While it was in the air she caught it and threw it at him.
His eyes widened as he gave the command for Xander to kill himself. Then the spear pierced him.
After throwing the spear, Buffy didn't bother to see whether it landed or not. Instead she ran as fast as her legs could move toward Xander. When he was only inches away from plunging the blade down into his stomach, Buffy caught the dagger with one hand and then punched him with the other.
Gra-ul's sudden loss of concentration broke a hole in the trance upon Xander. His hand still clutched the dagger; however, and as he fell backwards from Buffy's punch, the dagger sliced her hand. She cried out in pain. Buffy's pain allowed him something else to focus on for a second.
Gra-ul ripped the spear from his shoulder and began to limp away from the Slayer, not having any interest in dieing that night.
Buffy turned to Xander wanting to take the dagger from his hands before he tried to kill himself again, but he surprised her by winking at her and then tossing the dagger up to her.
She caught it, flipped it so that she was holding the blade, winked at him in turn and then spun on her heels to face the fleeing demon. She threw the silver dagger.
End over end it spun until it found demon flesh. Gra-ul looked down in his chest to see a metal tip sticking out. As he fell to his knees and felt the same burning that he felt on his face, he knew that he was not getting up again.
"Slayer," he yelled. "His light… will never take you away from the darkness."
"Yeah, yeah," she said quietly. She turned toward Xander and helped him up. "Are you okay?"
"A small headache, and the world's spinning a little more than usual, but other than that…" He tried to walk but lost his balance and tripped into Buffy's arms, his face only inches away from hers. He gave her a small lazy smile in gratitude. "On second thought, walking may be an issue for a few minutes."
Buffy smiled at him, and looked into his eyes, feeling a lot braver than she had recently. "That's okay, Xand. My head's spinning a little too."
******To*Be*Continued******
This chapter is dedicated to Wayne who sent me the absolute coolest feedback ever.
**Ooohhhhhhh, you just know there's a possible installment of a fresh chapter when an author start's REPOSTING their previous effort.
**And trust me this is a story worth reading. So all of you out there who have not had the opportunity to read this piece, put aside an hour of your time and please do so. And for all you B/X fan's who have, stop what you're doing and re-fresh your memories. So few B/X pieces are able to combine angst, humor and drama so effortlessly. Ray has a talent of getting into the head of his subjects (B & X) and invent a realistic storyline and dialogue that is believable to the characters portrayed on BtVS.
**So catch up on the "WDIFIYL" series, you can't go wrong....this is Ray here after all!
**Keep the Faith - Wayne
**Sunday, March 10, 2002
I don't think I've ever felt better to be a writer then after I read that. Thank you so much, Wayne. I was going to put this little dedication at the top but since everyone tends to skip the headers… You know who you are… I felt it would be better appreciated here.
Ray Rivera, aka Wicked Raygun
