Facing Death (Part 7 of 7)

Willow was swathed in darkness, not just her eyes and hair, but her skin as well. Her lips, even the skin under her fingernails had been turned.  The reason that the Hellspawn had lost their strength was here.  Willow had sucked from them their power, pulling it into herself.  Now she lay there, bloated with it, her skin ripped in places where it had been stretched too far and dark, sluggish blood flowed out.  She was keening in pain.

                                                                        The Last Apocalypse

                                                                        by A. L. Harris

Part 7

The King of Cups was nearly empty when I walked into it, two days later.  I'd been doing some thinking during the last forty-eight hours.  I wasn't thrilled with my conclusions, but I knew what had to be done. 

George, standing at the bar wiping glasses down, snarled to me in greeting, so he was in a pretty happy mood.  As I made my way down the stairs and back passages, I didn't see Leon around.  He was probably sleeping in one of the rooms, which was good.  I wasn't up to confronting him as well as Drusilla. 

When I reached her door, I didn't knock, but quietly opened it and let myself in.  Drusilla was laid out on the bed, fully clothed.  I studied her as she slept.  Her dark hair swirled about her shoulders, but a few strands had spread out, covering her cheek.  Gently, my fingertips brushed the hair from her face.  She looked so young, so innocent, and so deeply vulnerable.  But a small stain of blood near her lip put a lie to it all.

"Drusilla?" I whispered.

She stirred and murmured something about velvet bindings, but failed to wake. My hand fell to her shoulder, and I softly gave it a nudge.

"Honey?  You need to get up.  I want to talk to you." 

This time, her eyes flickered open.  When she saw me, a smile spread across her face and radiated a clear joy at my presence.  If I'd ever doubted that she loved me, in her own soulless way, this would have convinced me.  As it was, it only made what I had to do harder.  She stretched up an arm, and her hand wound around my neck, drawing me closer to her.

"My brave knight is here.  Aren't you going to kiss the princess awake?"

It would be so easy to let myself be pulled down.  To kiss her mouth once more, let her tongue thrust against mine, peel her clothes from her, and delve into her softness.  To forget everything and everyone in the pleasure that we gave to one another.  With slow carefulness, I straightened, eased her fingers from my flesh, and took a step back. 

"I'm sorry, Drusilla.  This has to end.  It all has to end."

Her eyes widened, and she rose from the bed, confused. 

"We can't go on like this…me, you.  For years I've given you, and Leon too, a free ride in this town.  Let you kill and feed with abandon, while I stood back and did nothing to stop it.  Well, that ends now."

"You no longer love me, Kitten?"

"Damn it, of course I love you!  Why do you think that I've come here to tell you this?  If I didn't, I would've just staked you, and been done with it."

 She started to whimper.  The sound was like sharp needles under my skin, but I couldn't let it get to me.  Taking a deep breath and lowering my voice, I continued.

"Dru, part of me will always love you.  But it's not good for me.   I can't spend my life constantly playing, teasing, and laughing with death and darkness, wondering when it will rear back and strike me."

"I'll be good.  I promise not to turn you."

I shook my head. 

"It's a promise you can't keep.  I'm sorry, Drusilla.  I need to get my foot out of the grave and live again."

"It's her, isn't it?  The shining, glowy one.  It's her fault."

"Dawn?  No, it's not her fault.  It's mine.  I love her and I want to be with her.  I want to be the man she needs, the man she wants.  And I can't do it with you in my life."

I walked to the door and opened it, then turned to look at Drusilla as she stood there, trembling, looking so lost and alone.  I wanted to go to her, wrap my arms around her, and let her feed from me once more.  Instead, I made my voice hard.

"I'll give you three days, you and Leon.  In three days, you'd better be gone.  If you're still here, I'll stake you both."

- - - - -

On the fourth day, I came back.  The bar was dark, a closed sign decorating the door.  Breaking the lock, I entered, readjusted the weight of the pack I carried on my shoulders, and looked around. The shelves had been picked bare, and dust was already accumulating on them.  Actually, the dust had probably been there forever.  Leon had never struck me as a manager who insisted on cleanliness. 

I made my way back to Drusilla's room, cautiously taking each turn, not sure if I should expect an attack.  No attack came.  The building was empty. 

When I entered the bedroom, the only light was from the beam of my flashlight.  No candles fluttered in their holders.  I struck a match and lit a couple of tapers that still stood on the nightstand, and surveyed the room.  Everything was still there, the bed, the dresser, but already there was an air of abandonment about it.  Wait…not everything was as it had been.  The stuffed black cat, the present that I'd given to Drusilla years before, was missing from its place of prominence on the dresser.  She must have taken it with her when she'd left. 

I dropped to my knees next to the bed and opened my pack.  Removing an explosive charge, I carefully set the timer and placed it under the bed that I'd spent many a night in. 

The next twenty minutes was spent placing other charges strategically around the various rooms, hallways, staircases, and finally, in the bar, itself.   I left the building, and with an effort, managed not to look back at it as I drove away. 

I'd only gone a few blocks when the series of explosions shook the ground. 

- - - - -

It was only when I heard Dawn's feet coming closer to the door to answer the summons caused by the doorbell that I began to get nervous.  I'd talked to her on the phone several times since I taken her to Fred's house, once to let her and Fred know about Angelus, and several times concerning the repairs that were being done to the house.  This last time I'd called her was to ask if I could come over and talk with her.

Dawn opened the door, wearing what looked like a fresh outfit, and I could see that she'd reapplied her makeup.  I took hope from the fact that she'd made the effort to look nice when I arrived.  I would've felt better if I hadn't known that Dawn referred to makeup as 'war paint'.  

She went to get a couple of cups of coffee, because now I was a guest, while I inspected the repairs.  The men I'd sent to the house had done a good job.  The windows had been replaced, and the hole had been patched up.  I'd even had them go the extra mile and paint the entire room, so that a fresh coat of paint on just one wall didn't remind Dawn of her ordeal.  I wished I could inspect the new magical barriers, as well, but I had to go on trust with that one. 

"So," Dawn said, as she reentered the room bearing two mugs of coffee.  "Does it pass the Xander inspection?"

"Looks good."

She placed the cups down on the replacement coffee table and sat on the couch.  After a moment, I sat down next to her.  As I was taking my first sip, Dawn handed me a piece of paper.  It was a check.

"What's this?" I asked, a bit of anger creeping into my voice.

"For the repairs.  Also, I know that the house is in my name, but you paid half of the mortgage from the time we moved in.  Heck, when I was out of work a couple of years ago, you were paying the whole thing."

With slow deliberation, I tore the check in half.  Then tore those pieces in half, continuing the process until it was reduces to bits, despite Dawn's protests. 

"Don't," I hissed. "Don't reduce our relationship down to a number with a dollar sign in front of it.  I love you."

"But you love a lot of people, don't you, Xander?" she snapped.

I stood up and stared at Dawn.  This so wasn't going well.  Finally, I nodded.

"Yeah, you're right.  I do love a lot of people.  Always have.  I love you.  I love Fred.  I love my parents, even though I can't stand to be in the same room with them.  And I love Drusilla."   

Dawn was glaring at me, but I didn't care.  She stood, her arms folded across her chest, and went to the door.  I followed her.

"I think it's time you left."

"Not until I finish.  I. Love. Drusilla.  Crazy, vicious, killer vampire Drusilla.  And you know what?  She may have tried to kill me on occasion, but she never once tore my heart out of my chest and stomped on it like the rest of you."   

"That's not fair!"

"No, what isn't fair is that I sent her away.  I threatened to kill her, made Dru leave town, then blew up the club. And do you know why?  Because you were right.  I did have a death wish and Dru was part of it.  I figured it was high time I started living again and I want to live it with you."

Her eyes went wide as she stared at me.  I took a couple of deep breaths, making an effort to calm myself down and lower my voice back to a more reasonable level. 

"It's you, Dawn.  It's you I want to be with. You, I love more than anything."

Her bottom lip trembled a bit as I approached her, backing her up against the door until we were only inches apart.

"Maybe…maybe it's too late," she said defiantly, but too softly for the threat to mean much.

"Maybe it is.  Why don't we find out?"

I leaned in and kissed her, starting off tentatively so as not to frighten her.  When she wrapped her arms around me, welcoming me, I deepened the kiss.  Within moments, I was pressing her into the wood of the door, her hands gripping my ass, and we were gasping air into our lungs.  I placed my forehead onto hers as our pelvises ground into each other, as if they had a life of their own, separate from the rest of us.  Dawn looked into my eyes, then gave me a gentle push, so I took half a step back.

"A few kisses aren't going to do it.  You're not moving back in."

"I didn't plan to," I replied.  "I need to get my act together first.  Need to learn to live on my own without relying on others…like you…to keep lending me strength and giving me the will to live."

She looked at my face, eyeing me intensely.  Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, and I stifled a groan as my erection hardened even more.

"You know that while you're doing that whole learning to live again bit, I'm not going to wait for you.  I'm not going to be sitting at home like some sweet little thing while you're off doing whatever."

"I wouldn't expect you to.  But know this.  When I'm ready…I'm going to come after you so hard and so fast that no one - living or dead, in heaven or in hell, will keep you from me."

"Stalkerish?"

"Determined."

"Oh…determined.  That's good."

 Dawn clasped my arms and pulled me back against her, and our lips met once again.  I slid my hands from where I was caressing her face, back into her hair, reveling in the feel of her.  We stroked and rubbed, teasing each other, as well as ourselves, with fleeting touches, until, breathing hard, we broke apart.  It seemed as if we both understood that it was too soon for us to jump back into bed with each other, despite our desire. 

A fingertip trailed across my forehead, down my nose, until it landed on my lips.  I sucked the tip in, tonguing it, tasting it, before Dawn pulled it out and resolutely stuck it back onto my lips.  Her breathing had slowed down; she was no longer panting, but it was still a bit uneven when she spoke.

"Is there anything I can do to help you learn to live again?  To start moving things in the right direction, so to speak?"

I pulled back and looked at her.  It was time, past time, really.  I clasped her hands and we moved to the couch, where we sat down.  Still keeping my hands in hers, I studied her slightly confused expression.  This was going to be hard.  So incredibly hard, but I had to do it. 

"Dawn, I never told you everything that happened that day…the day we fought the Hellspawn.  You'd been knocked to the ground, unconscious, so you missed it.  Remember how I told you that Willow was a hero?  How she used her magic?  I think it's about time I told you the rest of the story.  Told you about how I killed her."     

Taking a deep breath, I started to talk. 

The End.

Feedback is greatly appreciated.

Again, I would like to thank Jane Davitt and Alena for all of their help and support.  It means so much to me. 

Additionally, I wrote out a short version (about 4 pages) of The Last Apocalypse and took out paragraphs for the excerpts.  Because it deals with the deaths of characters that I truly love, I'd rather not post it.  However, if you wish to read it, you can e-mail me at mahaliem@yahoo.com and I will be happy to send it to you.