Disclaimer in Chapter 1
***********
The next few weeks resembled what passed for normal, in the life of the Slayer. Buffy went to school, trained with Giles and patrolled with Duncan. Buffy slept little, and what little she did get tended to be in history class; the teacher's droning voice had a tendency to put both she and Xander asleep, much to Willow's disappointment. Buffy also found her day haunted by visions of Angel. She knew he wasn't really there, but she would see him out of the corner of her eye, in the most improbable of places: at the mall in the women's department, at the beach in the middle of the day, or outside of her window, just as the sun was coming up. He was never really there, but the hallucinations were taking their toll. Buffy's unruly state of mind, combined with Duncan's own rather mysterious personal problems, could probably be blamed for what happened in the library that day.
Duncan entered the high school a little before eight in the evening. As per usual, the entire school was deserted, but for the library, where Buffy was training with Giles. Poor, abused Giles was padded to within an inch of his life, as he valiantly attempted to defend himself against the talented Slayer. His attempts seemed futile. Buffy, a study in deadly grace, whirled high, then low, catching her bemused Watcher behind the knees, with the staff she wielded; before dumping him unceremoniously onto the ground. Giles lay on the ground for a moment, before blinking nearsightedly at the hand Buffy offered him. With her assistance the misused Watcher managed to regain his feet. Turning, he spotted Duncan at the door.
"Duncan, I ... um ... ow ... why don't you train with Buffy. I think I'll ... ow ... um ... go get some ice."
As Giles limped painfully towards the door, Duncan turned to Buffy, "You should really be more careful with him, he's not as strong as you are."
Buffy's uncertain temper flared at his tone, "Giles can take care of himself," she spat. Then turned on her heel, heading over to the weapons cage, to return the staves to their rightful places.
Clenching his teeth, Duncan forced himself not to reach out and smack her. He'd found himself quicker to anger lately, and that scared him. Buffy flung the staves into their rightful places and stomped past Duncan towards where her bag lay on the library table. Duncan forced himself to unclench his teeth and tried an attempt at polite conversation; despite the large amount of time they had spent patrolling together over the last few weeks, neither of them really knew each other well. The conversations tended to be limited to discussions of demon weaknesses and short, to the point phrases: "duck", "where's the vampire?" and "you brought the stakes? I thought I was supposed to bring the stakes?". So, he loosened his jaw, and managed to squeeze out, "Where's everybody else tonight?" in what he hoped was a friendly tone.
Buffy looked back at him over her shoulder uncertainly, before replying. "Giles got wind of some prophesy, possibly apocalyptic-y." She frowned at her grammar a moment before continuing, "Anyways, Giles thought he had some book at his house, so Cordelia offered to go get it, but said she wasn't driving alone, Willow offered to go, and Oz decided go with too, because Willow was going, and then somehow Xander ended up going too, and no one's really sure how." The Slayer ended the sentence with a weary look that was becoming all too common.
Duncan felt his irritation rising again, "Don't you think you should have told me about the prophecy? Doesn't the end of the world sound important to you?"
Buffy glared up at him, "I'm sorry, did you suddenly become the Slayer? Did someone put you in charge of saving the universe? Cuz if they did then I wish someone had sent me the memo, I could do with a vacation in Aruba right about now."
With that parting jab, she swished past Duncan, clearly intending to leave the library. Duncan muttered to himself under his breath, Giles wouldn't be happy if he chased off his protegee. "Wait," Duncan called, relieved when she stopped on the threshold. "Giles wanted us to practice together."
"I don't think that's such a good idea right now."
Buffy was probably right, but something in her tone, the eerie indifference to which she'd approached so many things, or the faintly contemptuous tone that said he really didn't want to fight her, made him throw out the next comment, "Afraid?" There it was, the Point of No Return, hanging in the air, dependent on a single word.
Almost immediately Duncan wished he could take back what he'd just said. But Buffy's eyes flashed with anger, and she dropped her bag to the floor with a thump, "Fine," she snarled, "let's go."
Duncan went to the weapon's cage, anger lending speed to his stride. Immediately his eyes lit upon the perfect weapon, the one weapon she was sure she couldn't beat him in, despite her supernatural origins. Knowing, even while he grabbed a weapon for him, and one for Buffy, that what we was doing was supremely stupid, there was no way to stop this fight.
Buffy glared at Duncan's back. She should just walk away from this right now. It was the smart thing to do. But he was being so dammed arrogant. And the urge to fight something was strong. Vampires just weren't enough of a challenge these days. While she was still telling herself how stupid they were being, Duncan threw a weapon at her. Reflex took over and she caught the wooden practice blade before she realized exactly what it was.
Duncan raised his own practice blade in a mock salute, and then, before Buffy had anytime to react, he was on the attack. The only thought she had, before the Slayer took over, was how badly it had all gone, the last time she'd been in a sword fight.
Buffy didn't have anytime to reflect on the dark shadows from months past. Duncan moved too quick. Buffy's sword flashed upwards, in response to his attack. Her blade whipped forward, pressing her own return attack. The danced across the library, the only noise the dull clap of wooden blades, and the slight whisper of quick steps. They were well matched, Buffy's superior speed and strength were balanced by Duncan's instincts and skill, honed over hundreds of years of experience.
Buffy backed up a step, and bumped into the library table. Damn, she should have paid better attention to where she was headed, she needed to concentrate, and pull of something pretty impressive, if she was going to win this stupid fight. With a deftness that would have done Giles proud (if he wasn't disappointed at his student engaging his old friend in a battle that wasn't exactly practice) Buffy thrust hard at her opponent's waist. Duncan flinched back out of her way, but her point wasn't to hit him. It gave her space and Buffy flipped herself neatly, upwards and back, onto the library table. Duncan looked at her with obvious surprise.
"What's wrong," Buffy quipped, adding the largely absent verbal element to their sparring, "never faced a Slayer before?"
His faced creased with anger, and he followed her up onto the table, minus the elegant back flip. He attacked swiftly, countless years experience coming into play. His sword, though wooden, seemed to sing as it flashed forward in a dizzying attack. Buffy, clearly the inferior in sword work, was forced backwards, towards the back of the library table.
Buffy had a plan to get herself off the table and out of the reach of Duncan's sword. It was a good move really, it would serve it's purpose, and look appropriately spectacular. At least it would have if not for one small catch. The library table, being an actual table, was normally used for real work, not sword fighting. Xander's homework assignment for his marketing class ("The Rise and Fall of Donuts in Popular Culture") was therefore lying, quite innocently, on the table top. Unfortunately for Buffy, she happened to step right on it, just as she decided to lunge forward for a counter-attack. The slippery qualitites of paper on polished wood, combined with her momentum sent the Slayer tumbling downwards in a rather spectacular fall to the table's surface. The resultant impact sent her sword sliding towards Duncan, just out of her reach.
Duncan smirked down at her, while she glared up at him. "What's wrong," he asked, "never faced someone who could actually use a sword before?"
Buffy stayed where she was for a moment, back pressed against the railing of the upper section of the library. The room seemed to swirl around her. This was so familiar, so painful. This sword fight blurred with the last one. The railing behind her was like the stone wall of the mansion. The tall, dark man standing in front of her, the sword pointed at her. The taunting words, her own weapon just out of reach. It was all sickeningly familiar.
Lost in her own world, Buffy didn't notice Duncan move away from her, putting his sword down on the table and moving towards the doors. Buffy knew what she had to do. She knew what her duty was. She had to save the world. She'd done it once, she could do it again. Quietly, so not to alert her opponent, Buffy picked up her sword and slipped off the table. The world swam around her, the only clear thing amid the haze was her opponent's back and the blade of her sword. It was stupid of him to turn his back on her. He, of all people, should know what she could do. She would kill him. End his existence quickly with the sword, while his back was turned, while he wouldn't feel the pain. She owed that at least to the man she loved, to her Angel.
"You fought well," Duncan said, blithely unaware of death stalking him. His back was still turned to her, as he dug through the pockets of his coat, looking for car keys. "Next time watch your blocks on your left-hand side." Duncan felt he could afford to be generous, after all, he had won.
Buffy focussed on the broad back of her target, a voice rose up from the mist, and swirled around her, but she ignored it, it would only distract her from her purpose. She was ready, she was going to do this, she had to do this. Slowly she raised the blade ready to strike. And then, when she was perfectly ready, when everything was balanced just right, she swung.
Her swing had already started it's inevitable conclusion, when the library doors were pushed open. Giles and Willow, looking worried and immersed in deep conversation, walked through the door. It was Giles who first saw the bizarre tableau and called out, "Buffy!"
Duncan, hand raised to greet Giles, was alerted by the call, and swung around. Instinct took over, and he swatted the blade out of Buffy's hand. Everyone froze. The library was painfully silent as Buffy's gaze cleared and she whispered in a tortured tone, "Angel?"
Her pain seemed to sweep out to fill the room. Buffy looked around, and became suddenly, dreadfully, aware of what she had just been about to do. "Oh no." She took one look at the shocked faces around her, at the weapon lying on the floor, and then, before anyone else could stop her, she ran. She bolted out the door, brushing past Giles and Willow, down the hall, past where Oz, Cordelia and Xander were walking. She kept running, ignoring the voices calling after her, through the halls and out of the school. Her only thought was to get as far away from her past, as fast as she could.
*********
When Buffy stopped running, and started paying attention to her surroundings, she found herself across the street from the town bus depot. Not a good thing, she decided. Running away again shouldn't be an option. Yet still, the urge was there. Just slip out of town and away again into the unknown. She could do it again. Disappear, become one of the masses, normal, just like everyone else. Reality inserted itself, just as Buffy stepped off the curb. She couldn't do it. She couldn't put the people she loved through that kind of pain, not again. Giles hadn't said anything, but sometimes, when he thought she wouldn't notice, he'd look at her with those sad eyes. Like he expected her to bolt at any minute.
With a weary sigh, Buffy turned away and started walking back the way she came. She was probably crazy, she decided. Attacking Duncan like that...really, what had she been thinking? That really was the problem, she hadn't. It was like her brain had taken a vacation, and her body, left with no one at the helm, had decided to do something irreparably stupid. She dreamed about that moment every time her eyes closed, the moment when she'd killed him. But, somehow those dreams had slipped across the veil that separated her night-time terrors from the relative sanity of her days. That wasn't good. What if it happened again? What if this time, she actually hurt something.
She had to leave town.
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Duncan's hands shook as he listened to the explanations Buffy's friends and Giles gave him. Her story, God, so like his own. His hands were still shaking, that was strange. He'd lived through wars, epidemics, been killed more times then he could count, all in relative calm. But this brush so close with real death, by someone who he didn't precisely like, but certainly didn't think would try to kill him, this had his hands shaking. They'd stopped trying to explain to him, and had started arguing among themselves. The prophesy, the one that Buffy's friends had gone to pick up from Giles' house, revealed important information. Half the group seemed to want to wait, and find Buffy, before they went after the threat, while the other half was in favour of going after the creature itself, working under the assumption that, if there was trouble, Buffy would be there.
Duncan didn't care. It was nearly time for him to move on anyways. He'd learned enough about fighting demons from Buffy that he was more than able to continue fighting on his own. His own talents, combined with knowledge from the books Rupert was giving him, would make him a formidable foe to demons everywhere. He was going to kill them. A lot of them. Duncan was perfectly prepared to spend the rest of his considerably long life killing the bastards that had turned his world upside down.
Across the table Willow leaned over and put a hand on Xander's arm. Duncan smiled wryly, recognizing her attempt to calm her life-long friend. Willow noticed him watching and grinned back at him, admitting, in her own way, that her attempts were futile. She turned back to the argument and Duncan suddenly felt his insides constrict. Crap. He was beginning to care about these people. As much as he had ignored them over the past few weeks, he had, none the less, started to care about what happened to them. And now, he knew them. Knew that no matter how bitchy Cordelia got, you didn't tease her about her family. He knew that when Oz paused and sniffed the air something strange was coming. He knew that when Willow started falling asleep in the library you had to kick her out to make her go home. He knew that you didn't talk about fathers when Xander was around.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't care about people again. It was too dangerous, he shouldn't be around them. Next thing you knew he'd be killing them all. Oh, maybe not through demon possession this time, but he could make a mistake. And that mistake could kill them all, just because they were stupid enough to trust him.
He had to leave town.
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The next few weeks resembled what passed for normal, in the life of the Slayer. Buffy went to school, trained with Giles and patrolled with Duncan. Buffy slept little, and what little she did get tended to be in history class; the teacher's droning voice had a tendency to put both she and Xander asleep, much to Willow's disappointment. Buffy also found her day haunted by visions of Angel. She knew he wasn't really there, but she would see him out of the corner of her eye, in the most improbable of places: at the mall in the women's department, at the beach in the middle of the day, or outside of her window, just as the sun was coming up. He was never really there, but the hallucinations were taking their toll. Buffy's unruly state of mind, combined with Duncan's own rather mysterious personal problems, could probably be blamed for what happened in the library that day.
Duncan entered the high school a little before eight in the evening. As per usual, the entire school was deserted, but for the library, where Buffy was training with Giles. Poor, abused Giles was padded to within an inch of his life, as he valiantly attempted to defend himself against the talented Slayer. His attempts seemed futile. Buffy, a study in deadly grace, whirled high, then low, catching her bemused Watcher behind the knees, with the staff she wielded; before dumping him unceremoniously onto the ground. Giles lay on the ground for a moment, before blinking nearsightedly at the hand Buffy offered him. With her assistance the misused Watcher managed to regain his feet. Turning, he spotted Duncan at the door.
"Duncan, I ... um ... ow ... why don't you train with Buffy. I think I'll ... ow ... um ... go get some ice."
As Giles limped painfully towards the door, Duncan turned to Buffy, "You should really be more careful with him, he's not as strong as you are."
Buffy's uncertain temper flared at his tone, "Giles can take care of himself," she spat. Then turned on her heel, heading over to the weapons cage, to return the staves to their rightful places.
Clenching his teeth, Duncan forced himself not to reach out and smack her. He'd found himself quicker to anger lately, and that scared him. Buffy flung the staves into their rightful places and stomped past Duncan towards where her bag lay on the library table. Duncan forced himself to unclench his teeth and tried an attempt at polite conversation; despite the large amount of time they had spent patrolling together over the last few weeks, neither of them really knew each other well. The conversations tended to be limited to discussions of demon weaknesses and short, to the point phrases: "duck", "where's the vampire?" and "you brought the stakes? I thought I was supposed to bring the stakes?". So, he loosened his jaw, and managed to squeeze out, "Where's everybody else tonight?" in what he hoped was a friendly tone.
Buffy looked back at him over her shoulder uncertainly, before replying. "Giles got wind of some prophesy, possibly apocalyptic-y." She frowned at her grammar a moment before continuing, "Anyways, Giles thought he had some book at his house, so Cordelia offered to go get it, but said she wasn't driving alone, Willow offered to go, and Oz decided go with too, because Willow was going, and then somehow Xander ended up going too, and no one's really sure how." The Slayer ended the sentence with a weary look that was becoming all too common.
Duncan felt his irritation rising again, "Don't you think you should have told me about the prophecy? Doesn't the end of the world sound important to you?"
Buffy glared up at him, "I'm sorry, did you suddenly become the Slayer? Did someone put you in charge of saving the universe? Cuz if they did then I wish someone had sent me the memo, I could do with a vacation in Aruba right about now."
With that parting jab, she swished past Duncan, clearly intending to leave the library. Duncan muttered to himself under his breath, Giles wouldn't be happy if he chased off his protegee. "Wait," Duncan called, relieved when she stopped on the threshold. "Giles wanted us to practice together."
"I don't think that's such a good idea right now."
Buffy was probably right, but something in her tone, the eerie indifference to which she'd approached so many things, or the faintly contemptuous tone that said he really didn't want to fight her, made him throw out the next comment, "Afraid?" There it was, the Point of No Return, hanging in the air, dependent on a single word.
Almost immediately Duncan wished he could take back what he'd just said. But Buffy's eyes flashed with anger, and she dropped her bag to the floor with a thump, "Fine," she snarled, "let's go."
Duncan went to the weapon's cage, anger lending speed to his stride. Immediately his eyes lit upon the perfect weapon, the one weapon she was sure she couldn't beat him in, despite her supernatural origins. Knowing, even while he grabbed a weapon for him, and one for Buffy, that what we was doing was supremely stupid, there was no way to stop this fight.
Buffy glared at Duncan's back. She should just walk away from this right now. It was the smart thing to do. But he was being so dammed arrogant. And the urge to fight something was strong. Vampires just weren't enough of a challenge these days. While she was still telling herself how stupid they were being, Duncan threw a weapon at her. Reflex took over and she caught the wooden practice blade before she realized exactly what it was.
Duncan raised his own practice blade in a mock salute, and then, before Buffy had anytime to react, he was on the attack. The only thought she had, before the Slayer took over, was how badly it had all gone, the last time she'd been in a sword fight.
Buffy didn't have anytime to reflect on the dark shadows from months past. Duncan moved too quick. Buffy's sword flashed upwards, in response to his attack. Her blade whipped forward, pressing her own return attack. The danced across the library, the only noise the dull clap of wooden blades, and the slight whisper of quick steps. They were well matched, Buffy's superior speed and strength were balanced by Duncan's instincts and skill, honed over hundreds of years of experience.
Buffy backed up a step, and bumped into the library table. Damn, she should have paid better attention to where she was headed, she needed to concentrate, and pull of something pretty impressive, if she was going to win this stupid fight. With a deftness that would have done Giles proud (if he wasn't disappointed at his student engaging his old friend in a battle that wasn't exactly practice) Buffy thrust hard at her opponent's waist. Duncan flinched back out of her way, but her point wasn't to hit him. It gave her space and Buffy flipped herself neatly, upwards and back, onto the library table. Duncan looked at her with obvious surprise.
"What's wrong," Buffy quipped, adding the largely absent verbal element to their sparring, "never faced a Slayer before?"
His faced creased with anger, and he followed her up onto the table, minus the elegant back flip. He attacked swiftly, countless years experience coming into play. His sword, though wooden, seemed to sing as it flashed forward in a dizzying attack. Buffy, clearly the inferior in sword work, was forced backwards, towards the back of the library table.
Buffy had a plan to get herself off the table and out of the reach of Duncan's sword. It was a good move really, it would serve it's purpose, and look appropriately spectacular. At least it would have if not for one small catch. The library table, being an actual table, was normally used for real work, not sword fighting. Xander's homework assignment for his marketing class ("The Rise and Fall of Donuts in Popular Culture") was therefore lying, quite innocently, on the table top. Unfortunately for Buffy, she happened to step right on it, just as she decided to lunge forward for a counter-attack. The slippery qualitites of paper on polished wood, combined with her momentum sent the Slayer tumbling downwards in a rather spectacular fall to the table's surface. The resultant impact sent her sword sliding towards Duncan, just out of her reach.
Duncan smirked down at her, while she glared up at him. "What's wrong," he asked, "never faced someone who could actually use a sword before?"
Buffy stayed where she was for a moment, back pressed against the railing of the upper section of the library. The room seemed to swirl around her. This was so familiar, so painful. This sword fight blurred with the last one. The railing behind her was like the stone wall of the mansion. The tall, dark man standing in front of her, the sword pointed at her. The taunting words, her own weapon just out of reach. It was all sickeningly familiar.
Lost in her own world, Buffy didn't notice Duncan move away from her, putting his sword down on the table and moving towards the doors. Buffy knew what she had to do. She knew what her duty was. She had to save the world. She'd done it once, she could do it again. Quietly, so not to alert her opponent, Buffy picked up her sword and slipped off the table. The world swam around her, the only clear thing amid the haze was her opponent's back and the blade of her sword. It was stupid of him to turn his back on her. He, of all people, should know what she could do. She would kill him. End his existence quickly with the sword, while his back was turned, while he wouldn't feel the pain. She owed that at least to the man she loved, to her Angel.
"You fought well," Duncan said, blithely unaware of death stalking him. His back was still turned to her, as he dug through the pockets of his coat, looking for car keys. "Next time watch your blocks on your left-hand side." Duncan felt he could afford to be generous, after all, he had won.
Buffy focussed on the broad back of her target, a voice rose up from the mist, and swirled around her, but she ignored it, it would only distract her from her purpose. She was ready, she was going to do this, she had to do this. Slowly she raised the blade ready to strike. And then, when she was perfectly ready, when everything was balanced just right, she swung.
Her swing had already started it's inevitable conclusion, when the library doors were pushed open. Giles and Willow, looking worried and immersed in deep conversation, walked through the door. It was Giles who first saw the bizarre tableau and called out, "Buffy!"
Duncan, hand raised to greet Giles, was alerted by the call, and swung around. Instinct took over, and he swatted the blade out of Buffy's hand. Everyone froze. The library was painfully silent as Buffy's gaze cleared and she whispered in a tortured tone, "Angel?"
Her pain seemed to sweep out to fill the room. Buffy looked around, and became suddenly, dreadfully, aware of what she had just been about to do. "Oh no." She took one look at the shocked faces around her, at the weapon lying on the floor, and then, before anyone else could stop her, she ran. She bolted out the door, brushing past Giles and Willow, down the hall, past where Oz, Cordelia and Xander were walking. She kept running, ignoring the voices calling after her, through the halls and out of the school. Her only thought was to get as far away from her past, as fast as she could.
*********
When Buffy stopped running, and started paying attention to her surroundings, she found herself across the street from the town bus depot. Not a good thing, she decided. Running away again shouldn't be an option. Yet still, the urge was there. Just slip out of town and away again into the unknown. She could do it again. Disappear, become one of the masses, normal, just like everyone else. Reality inserted itself, just as Buffy stepped off the curb. She couldn't do it. She couldn't put the people she loved through that kind of pain, not again. Giles hadn't said anything, but sometimes, when he thought she wouldn't notice, he'd look at her with those sad eyes. Like he expected her to bolt at any minute.
With a weary sigh, Buffy turned away and started walking back the way she came. She was probably crazy, she decided. Attacking Duncan like that...really, what had she been thinking? That really was the problem, she hadn't. It was like her brain had taken a vacation, and her body, left with no one at the helm, had decided to do something irreparably stupid. She dreamed about that moment every time her eyes closed, the moment when she'd killed him. But, somehow those dreams had slipped across the veil that separated her night-time terrors from the relative sanity of her days. That wasn't good. What if it happened again? What if this time, she actually hurt something.
She had to leave town.
****************
Duncan's hands shook as he listened to the explanations Buffy's friends and Giles gave him. Her story, God, so like his own. His hands were still shaking, that was strange. He'd lived through wars, epidemics, been killed more times then he could count, all in relative calm. But this brush so close with real death, by someone who he didn't precisely like, but certainly didn't think would try to kill him, this had his hands shaking. They'd stopped trying to explain to him, and had started arguing among themselves. The prophesy, the one that Buffy's friends had gone to pick up from Giles' house, revealed important information. Half the group seemed to want to wait, and find Buffy, before they went after the threat, while the other half was in favour of going after the creature itself, working under the assumption that, if there was trouble, Buffy would be there.
Duncan didn't care. It was nearly time for him to move on anyways. He'd learned enough about fighting demons from Buffy that he was more than able to continue fighting on his own. His own talents, combined with knowledge from the books Rupert was giving him, would make him a formidable foe to demons everywhere. He was going to kill them. A lot of them. Duncan was perfectly prepared to spend the rest of his considerably long life killing the bastards that had turned his world upside down.
Across the table Willow leaned over and put a hand on Xander's arm. Duncan smiled wryly, recognizing her attempt to calm her life-long friend. Willow noticed him watching and grinned back at him, admitting, in her own way, that her attempts were futile. She turned back to the argument and Duncan suddenly felt his insides constrict. Crap. He was beginning to care about these people. As much as he had ignored them over the past few weeks, he had, none the less, started to care about what happened to them. And now, he knew them. Knew that no matter how bitchy Cordelia got, you didn't tease her about her family. He knew that when Oz paused and sniffed the air something strange was coming. He knew that when Willow started falling asleep in the library you had to kick her out to make her go home. He knew that you didn't talk about fathers when Xander was around.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't care about people again. It was too dangerous, he shouldn't be around them. Next thing you knew he'd be killing them all. Oh, maybe not through demon possession this time, but he could make a mistake. And that mistake could kill them all, just because they were stupid enough to trust him.
He had to leave town.
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