Chapter 10

Revealed

Dammit. What the hell's wrong with Angel, runnin' off to Sunnydale over just some vamp. He's got some serious problems these days. And I'm not sure how much of a strain mine and Fred's relationship can handle. It was hard enough when Connor first came along, and things had just started to get better, then that Buffy-girl had to die. Oh man, why does life have to go and get so hard sometimes?

"I-if all that stuff she says is true, then there's a lot w-w-we have to do. So much to get ready for," said Tara.

"Do you really think so?" wondered Willow, gazing across the room. Instead of seeing a window and a wall, she saw a bright, white light. However, instead of illuminating the room, it instead cast a dark shadow over most of it, including Tara's face – now concealed in darkness.

"You still don't understand," whispered Tara, suddenly right next to Willow's face.

"Tara?" bemused Willow.

"It's all so simple," continued Tara, and then with a sudden gasp she crumpled onto the bed lying in the middle of the room, gazing at the white light and breathing hard.

"And yet, it's an enigma," finished Willow, wrapping her arms around Tara's neck. Tara smiled from the touch, and Willow hugged a bit tighter, then began to constrict even harder, until Tara started coughing forcefully.

"W-wi—" choked Tara.

"Would you like to know the best part, Tara? Here's where it all starts," snarled Willow into Tara's ear, thrusting her face to look at the light-wall beginning to shimmer and glow a dark purple as a figure walked forward. The shape was that of a woman, but the energy was that of something beyond gender, something beyond normal, human matters. She had long, purple locks of hair ending in bright-blonde tips. Her face was smooth, and her lips were a pulsating red, her look a vision of beauty. She wore a light blue, shimmering dress that wrapped around one shoulder and all the way down to her hip, exposing the other shoulder and most of her back. The dress continued down to wrap around her legs, finally ending at her feet, encased in glowing, silver heels. The figure stood enough in the darkening light that Tara and Willow could only see the bare essentials, and not enough to even cast a hint at who the figure was.

Willow shot up in her bed, and looked over at Tara, hearing her sobs before she had even had time to focus after waking up from the nightmare. She scooted over next to her and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, holding her close to comfort her and warm her.

* * *

"With purple hair?" asked a crazed Anya.

"Ye—" started Willow.

"We saw her too then! Or it. Did anybody else feel the it?" asked Xander.

Tara nodded and gazed out the window from the seat in the living room of the Summers' house. She could still feel the cold skin of Willow's hand wrapped around her neck, squeezing harder and harder until no air coursed through her lungs.

Willow glanced over at Tara and reached out to pet her cheek; Tara jerked at the touch and Willow pulled back, putting on a solemn face. "We need to figure out what this means then," stated Willow, getting up and grabbing books to pile on the table.

* * *

Sarah grinned as she gave Mark a quick peck on the lips, leaving him wanting more. She turned to leave and he grabbed her hands, pulling her back to him, giving her a taste of her own medicine. She smiled and turned to leave again, but he yanked her arms and pulled her back. "Hey, I wasn't finished," he said, flashing a half-smile.

Sarah pulled back her head as he reached in for another forceful kiss, and she tried to tuck her arms closer to her body. Mark sighed and let go of her hands, allowing her to finally leave – which she did, but not without one more quick glance behind her at Mark as she rushed off.

What's up with that lately, sighed Mark. She's been giving me the cold shoulder a lot. Okay, so we're not exactly soulless monsters anymore, but we do still have the rush of the vampire, we do still want the blood pulsing through the vein, and we do still want to have what we desire.

* * *

Sarah strolled the corner of the street, taking a quick right in the silence of the night. Why is Mark so forceful, she pondered, quickening her pace the more she thought about how crazed he became when he couldn't have something he wanted.

Before long she wanted to return to the crypt, and she made her way back to the cemetery, sticking to the shadows. Opening the door, she walked in on Mark taking his shirt off.

"I was just about to come out and find you," he said, beginning to unfasten his pants.

"Mark, don't," said Sarah, brushing the hair from her face. She noticed the blue starting to fade to her normal blonde – she'd have to have Billowa touch it up soon.

"Dammit Sarah, how long has it been? Come on, just a fast one?" asked Mark, still unzipping his pants.

"Mark, I said don't," stated Sarah, trying to focus on the blonde tip of her blue hair, wondering when Billowa would return to the cemetery. With the last comment, Mark brushed up again Sarah and whirled her around. She brought her hand around with her and there was a sickening sound as it made contact with the side of his head.

"Ow! Bitch!" yelled Mark, reeling back from the pain. He reached into the pocket of his trousers, laying on the ground, and pulled out a stake. He bent back up and glanced at Sarah. She shuddered and tried to shrug it off as some stupid game, and if need be, she'd slap him again.

"Just stop it, Mark," sighed Sarah. Mark's face turned red as he lunged at Sarah. She cried out in surprise and slammed her knee into his groin, her initial reaction. He let loose a wild shout of disgust and loathing as he crouched down on the ground. He reached out his hand and grabbed her foot, pulling on it until she slipped backwards.

She scrambled for something to grab hold of as she fell to the ground, and instead smacked her head on a large, stone coffin. A bit dazed, it took her a moment to focus completely, and when she regained her senses Mark had already removed her over-shirt, and was working on her white blouse underneath. She screamed in panic, and squirmed desperately, trying to push him off.

Finally having enough of the squirming, Mark decided if she didn't stop, then he wouldn't be able to fulfill his wish either way, so he slammed the stake towards her chest. It pierced the skin and Sarah's head jerked backwards as she let loose a sob, finally pulling her knee between their bodies and pushing with all her might, barely toppling him off of her and onto his side. She looked at the tiny hole in her blouse, now turning a deep red, gazing at the symbol of death-so-close.

"I see how it is!" cried Sarah, jumping to her feet, pulling her shirt closed. "You monster, just because you have a soul, you think everything you do is the decent thing, the right thing. But I realize now, these…these 'things' inside us, they don't force good of us. You showed me that tonight, you creature! You want a cold-hearted enemy? Because now you've got one!" She threw one last kick into Mark's side as she burst out the door, letting it slam with a loud thud behind her.

* * *

"Has anyone found a thing yet?" spoke Xander, scratching his throat from having been silent for so long.

"Not a thing," said Anya, slamming her book closed, and picking another one up.

Dawn sat at the computer, the bright light illuminating her face and entrancing her, "No, but we have to keep looking anyway."

"She's right," said Tara, focusing on her book, ignoring Willow's gaze every so often.

"What's the use?" said Angel, an outburst unexpected by the rest of the group. Isobel giggled and clapped, running over to Angel and clasping his hand on the book. He pulled his hand from the tiny grasp and walked over to the glass-paneled door, slamming his fist against the wooden frame.

"Angel, we need to do something. Billowa said this dimension's ruin is coming, and Buffy's the least of our problems," said Willow, trying to calm Angel down.

"Y-yeah. We just need to sit and focus," said Tara, casting a small smile at Willow, trying to reassure her just as much as she was herself. It worked for Willow at least, and she smiled back, reaching to grab Tara's hand in hers.

"He-he, silly lady," chortled Isobel, pointing at the book Angel had been looking at.

"Isobel, honey, hush," said Anya; reaching to pull Isobel's hand back, when she noticed the picture she had been pointing at. She grinned and picked the book up, "She found her! Oh my God, she found the woman from our dreams."

Angel rushed over and took the book from Anya's hands, examining it in detail. "It doesn't mention what or who she is," he said, flipping through the pages before and after the picture.

"Well, do you really think you could find information on an omnipotent being such as that you hold a picture of in your hands in a book, did you?" asked Billowa, waving her hand and floating the book from Angel's hands to hers.

Mark stood next to her and glanced at the woman in the drawing, while Isobel walked up to him. "She hurt you, but only because you hurt her first," said Isobel, glancing up at Mark's reddened face, with a dab of blood and plenty of hand silhouettes. "It'll come," she continued," In the end, you'll feel sorry for it." Isobel giggled and ran back to sit in her mother's lap, playing with her mother's ears once again.

"Do you know who that woman or being or whatever is?" asked Dawn, still fearing the power that Billowa weld.

"It's not a she, you were right in your second choice, it's a being. You all already know who it is. I'm sure of it. It's one of The Powers That Be," stated Billowa matter-of-factly.