Title: Hope and Home.
Number 8 in the Death series.
Author: Goldy
Email: thegoldoneb_a@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: I do not own Dork!Angel, Saint!Cordelia, Brad, or the travesty that
is Buffy. What I do own is the originals of all those characters… hehe.
Spoilers: None. Except for maybe some of my earlier stories in this series.
A/N: There is NO CONNOR in this. No SPUFFY SCREWEDGE, and NO ANTICHEMISTRY!
This series is getting more and more AU as the seasons progress. I am NOT
planning on bringing Darla into this series at all, which means there will be
NO Connor. My brain has enough to worry about…
A/N: Yes. The title is all mine. All mine I tell you! Except, Jennem came up
with it. And I had nothing at all to do with it… but other than that…
definitely mine.
Dedication: To Jennem, cause she is the BEST beta and great title thinker. To
Lokoa cause she always gives GREAT feedback. To Ducks cause I'm so glad to have
her back! And to anyone else that has kept up with this series, I LOVE YOU ALL!
Feedback: Oooooh, yes yes yes! A million times yes!
I blink. Once. Twice. Three times. The world slowly slides back into focus. My
room. My house. Sunnydale.
I'm back in Sunnydale.
With a jolt, I snap back to reality. I give a quick glance around and realize
that my arms are hovering in the air over a box I was packing up. I remember
now. I came to Sunnydale because Willow needs to talk to me, and I'm packing up
the last of my stuff from my room.
I stand and give a long drawn out stretch. Glancing at my watch, I realize that
only five minutes have passed. I do that sometimes. Stare off into space and
get so caught up in my own little world that I don't notice the time ticking
along. I don't think it's dangerous… it's just something I do. A psychologist
would probably say that it's a side affect of being brought back from the dead.
Maybe I'll mention it to Willow. I've started calling them my "blank spells,"
which is what they really are. I haven't told Angel yet… I don't want to worry
him. But it will be good to tell Willow.
Willow.
She wants to talk to me. I think it's about Angel's soul. She kind of hinted to
me about it during the phone call that made me rush down here. She had muttered
something about sex and the world in mortal danger.
The happiness clause.
The last month has been had, no questioning that fact. But I kept busy. I got
Dawn into a new school, I settled my finances with Angel's help, and I
patrolled. The latter was done mostly by myself. Angel always tells me not to.
He says that Cordy gets visions and we go and help those people. I tell him
that I'm the slayer and it's *my* job to patrol and not wait for Cordelia to
get a bunch of stupid visions. Then he tells me he worries about me when I'm
out alone. Meanwhile, he looks deep into my eyes and does that whole
don't-yell-at-me-for-caring-about-you face. Of course, that makes me want to
either kiss him or throw him into a wall. Since neither is appropriate at that
time, I usually make some flip remark about patrolling on the Hellmouth alone
for two years. Which is then followed by me stomping out with a huge urge to
kill something.
Sometimes, though, Angel goes with me. Which is great. I love having him watch
my back… and it's no secret that we make a deadly, nearly unbeatable team. The
only problem is, with the whole killing/exerting great amounts of energy thing,
we end up kissing.
And that's amazing and passionate and thrilling… which is bad.
So, mostly, I patrol alone.
Mostly, I do everything alone.
Mostly, I avoid him.
Mostly, we end up on each other, anyway.
There have been some close calls. He says it's nothing that he can't handle. He
says he has control over himself. He says he would never risk letting out
Angelus again.
Yeah, but he also slept with Darla.
I sigh. Definitely not a subject I want to think about. I finally heard the
whole story about what happened last year with him and her. How Wolfram &
Hart brought her back in order to drive him crazy and bring him to their side.
He told me about how he fired Cordy, Wes, and Gunn to keep them from seeing
that side of him. He told me about the hopelessness he felt and how he wanted
to feel something.
I think it's the most the guy has ever said before in one sitting.
But I'm glad he told me. The shrinks always say that communication is the key
to a healthy and trustworthy relationship. I guess it's a start, but it doesn't
really make things all that much easier for Angel and I. I'm glad that he told
me, though, for other reasons, too. It makes me realize that he knows what I'm
going through. He knows that what it feels like to be on the outside of life,
trapped in your own jail of despair.
Actually, that was one of our closer calls. He had looked so alone and
desperate just telling the story… and I could identify with him so well. When
our lips had touched that night, I knew that we felt closer to each other than
we had in a long time. We were so close to losing ourselves in each other. I
think the only thing that stopped us was Angel's mind-set to "do it right."
For lack of nothing better to do, I repack the box. It doesn't have much in it…
a few pictures, candles, clothes. My room doesn't have much left in it except a
bed and a few shelves.
I hope Willow gets here soon.
She said that classes end at two. It's three.
What if she forgets?
Can Angel and I be okay? Can we keep going… so in love… yet so doomed if we
dare show that love?
Willow will come.
I miss him. I said that I needed to come to Sunnydale alone, and he had told me
he understood and would take care of Dawn. I think I just needed to clear my
head out… take a breather after the change in course my life had just taken.
But I miss him.
I need him so much. It's true what I said so long ago… I don't care about
sunlight and children. I just want my life to be with him. Sure, it's
frustrating to be so close and not be able to go all the way. But I need him.
I need him like I need food, water, and shelter. I need him like I need a warm
bed and clothes. I just plain need him.
I hear a noise downstairs. It must be Willow. I give my room one last deep
survey. The walls are bare, and the bed has been stripped of its sheets. Empty.
Lifeless. Those are the only words I can think of to describe the scene.
Sometimes I still feel that way… but I'm getting better.
This isn't my room anymore.
Soon this room will belong to another girl. Maybe she'll move here with her
mother after her parents split up. Maybe her mother will try and open a
gallery. Maybe the girl will feel lost and alone and wonder if she was the real
reason her parents called it quits. Maybe she'll make the best friends she will
ever have with the school geek and the school loser.
Maybe she'll stay up late and talk on the phone about boys. Maybe she'll find
time to study. Maybe she'll take up cheerleading. Maybe she'll go to her high
school dance without drowning first. Maybe she'll make love for the first time
to a man that will be there when she wakes up. Maybe she won't have to send him
to hell. Maybe she won't run away that summer. Maybe she'll start her senior
year with all the other kids. Maybe the biggest worry she and her friends will
have will be whose dating whom.
Maybe she'll be normal.
My eyes tick to the window by the bed. It's open and a cool breeze washes
through the room. In a trance, I walk towards it. Memories of stolen kisses and
forbidden passion steal over me. I used to sit by that window whenever I felt
lost or alone. I never would have admitted it, but I was always waiting for him
to come back to me. After Riley and I had sex in my bed, I would stand in front
of my window waiting for him to come home to me.
I turn away from the window. I can hear Willow shuffling around downstairs. I
now that she is looking for me. Soon she'll check in here, but I don't want her
to find me here. It's my last chance to really say good-bye to my old life.
It's strange, but I feel that she would ruin it if she came up here.
I pass the mirror on my way out of the room. It's standing over my empty
bureau. I pause for a minute and examine myself. I look worn and tired… but
still the same. Blonde hair and green eyes… by all appearances I look like a
regular 20-year-old girl. It doesn't show all that I've been through. The
mirror doesn't show all the horrors that I've faced and that are continually
reflected on my persona.
I turn away from the mirror.
I pause again in the door to my room. I can't quite let go… and I feel this
heaviness come over me. This is it. The last chapter in the life of 'Buffy the
Sunnydale Girl.' Somehow it saddens me. Everything is still, and I feel a sharp
pang thinking of Mom. The house always felt alive when she was in it. Now it's
all empty, just like this room. I close my eyes and hope that when I open them
this will all be a nightmare, and I'll wake up 12 years earlier, watching
Saturday morning cartoons squished between Mommy and Daddy.
Without opening my eyes, I turn away and say a final good-bye.
I open my eyes and march down the hall. I stop at the staircase and resist the
urge to take one last look.
"Normal is over-rated anyway," I mutter, as I force myself down the stairs.
I meet Willow at the bottom. She is standing near the door as if she isn't sure
she had been properly invited in. She has her arms wrapped around her chest
like she's afraid of something. Like she's afraid of me.
I give her a cautious smile. "Hey."
Her eyes sum me up slowly. Shakily she meets my eyes. "Hey."
"How have you been?"
"Fine. You?"
"Not bad."
Willow forces out another shy embarrassed smile. I feel like screaming. The
forced politeness is something that's hard to take in. It didn't use to be hard
for Willow and I to talk. Even when I went away for whole summers, I could
still come back and patch things up with my good buddy Willow.
I miss her.
Both of us. The girl I used to be, and the girl that she used to be. "So…" I
say, willing to try and say anything to break the silence, "don't just stand
there in the doorway! Come on in!"
Willow looks hesitant. "You sure?"
I give her a baffled look. "Of course I'm sure."
"If I say something that you probably won't like are you going to kick me out
again?"
I feel the first pangs of nervousness. And I realize that something is wrong
about this situation. If she has good news about Angel's soul, then she
wouldn't be on my doorstep looking like she might run away. Xander, Anya, and
Tara would probably be here if she had found some good news.
The first pang of fear creeps its way into my stomach.
"I won't kick you out," I promise.
Willow comes into my house. "I have something to tell you," she mumbles,
looking as if she really doesn't want to share.
I force out a smile. Everything is fine. This isn't about Angel. It can't be
about Angel. "Sit down," I gesture towards the couches, and Willow sits.
Standing in front of her I resist the urge to start pacing. "Can I get you
anything?"
Willow looks a little confused. I don't think I've ever asked her if she needed
anything before. Things were never that strenuous between us that I had to
treat her like an everyday house guest. "I'm fine."
Sitting down opposite her, I wipe my sweaty palms against my pants. I wish that
Angel was here with me. Whenever he's near I can be so much stronger. One touch
or smile is enough to calm me. "So… where are you living now?"
"You mean now that you left?"
She doesn't say it, but I hear the unspoken bitterness in her voice that says
'You mean where am I living now that I brought you back from the dead, and you
abandoned me?' "Yeah… now that I'm selling this place."
"I moved back into the dorms," Willow answers with a shrug.
"With Tara?"
Willow's eyes fill with tears. "At first."
I wait for more, but she doesn't share. I wonder what's happened. Why does
Willow look so tired and worn down? "Willow what's going on?" I demand, not
being able to keep the frustration out of my voice. "Why did you want to see
me?"
A gasp tears its way out of Willow's system. "She said that I wasn't being
careful enough. She said that it was going to get me in trouble."
"Tara said?"
Willow nods, tears beginning to track down her cheeks.
"About what?" I prod, trying to keep my voice soothing.
"Magic," she croaks, "Tara said that I was depending on it too much. And she
found out that I'd been casting a spell on her."
My blood runs cold. "You… you cast a spell on her?"
"It wasn't a big one!" Willow protests, "just something to make her forget
about our fight!"
"Oh god," I murmur. I look at her sharply. "What else have you done?"
Willow retreats into herself as if I've struck her. "I de-ratted Amy."
"What did you guys do?" I ask in a no-nonsense tone.
She looks away from me. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Well, you're going to have to! Willow you have a problem!" Willow shook a
little, and I lowered my voice to a more soothing tone. "Tell me what
happened."
"She knew someone… Buffy you don't know what it was like… the power," she
shivered. "It was like nothing I had ever felt before."
I lick my lips. "I'm sure it wasn't."
Willow's eyes focus on me. "I need help, Buffy."
"No kidding. Did you hurt anyone?"
Shame twists Willow's features. "Anya. I could have killed her. Xander… he…"
Willow gulps, "I thought that he might never talk to me again. But he said cold
turkey. I can't do anymore magic. Ever."
Willow watches my face as I take in the news. A cold fear washes over me, as I
take in the meaning of her words. She won't help Angel. She can't help him. I
can feel the hope die inside of me. She can't bind Angel's soul.
"I'm sorry, Buffy," she whispers, "there's nothing I can do. If I did find some
way to help him… it would probably be more dangerous. I don't trust myself
anymore."
I find the courage to nod. I want so much to be mad at her. I want to lash out
and be able to blame her for not being able to help us. But I can't blame her.
I know what it's like to be on the brink of something that you can't control.
But the knowing doesn't make the news any easier.
"I found some things," she adds, when I don't say anything. "On the Internet.
Without using magic. I want you to look through them. I'll keep looking for
spells and things, maybe you can find someone else to bind his soul."
I take the papers she's holding out in her trembling hand. Maybe she's right.
Maybe Angel and I can find someone else to do it. But I feel numbness as I
realize that to find someone as strong as Willow that doesn't abuse their power
was a slim chance. The hope in me dies a little more.
"Buffy say something," she pleads, "I couldn't stand it if you hated me, too. I
need help to get through this… I need my best friend."
I take her hands. "I don't hate you." I look her straight in the eye. "You can
get through this, Willow. I don't blame you for not being able to help with
Angel's soul."
Willow grips my hand with grateful relief. "Thank you," she manages to say.
I get up. "Don't mention it."
"Where are you going?"
I stand, for possibly the last time in my house on Revello Dr., and I think
about the question she just asked me. "For a walk," I finally answer.
****
The night swirls around me in a deadly dance of cool air. My last patrol in
Sunnydale, I reflect with an ironic smile. Although, it probably won't be the
last. This is the Hellmouth, after all. And I am the slayer, after all. I'll be
back.
But for now it's enough to think that it is the last. Already, I can't wait to
be home. Home. The place where Angel lives. The place where I live. It's
amazing how quickly I've come to accept that he is home. I think that home for
me has always been him… the only times that I've ever felt really safe was in
his arms. It just took me a long time to accept that.
I wonder what he's doing right now. Is he sitting in his room reading? Or is he
helping the others research a case? Is he out fighting a demon? Or is he taking
time to think about me? Cordelia confided in me that he spent a lot of time
thinking about me before I showed up in LA with him. She said that he used to
get a 'Buffy Face' which meant that he would disappear and brood for hours at a
time.
I smile a little thinking about Cordelia. At first things had been really hard
and tense between us. Both of us had very strong opinions about what we thought
was best for Angel. Eventually, once she realized that I wasn't going anywhere,
we learned to tolerate each other. Now, I'm even kind of fond of her. She grows
on you, like one of those big fat grouchy cats.
I kick at a rock lying on the ground. It rolls down the road and out of sight.
I wonder what Angel and I will do. I have my own room at the Hyperion, but I
don't sleep without nightmares unless I'm in his arms. But every time I lie
down in his embrace, the frustration grows stronger.
If Willow can't bind his soul, who can?
No one.
My heart stops beating for a minute as I contemplate that. If Angel's soul is
always in trouble will I have to leave him? What exactly is true happiness for
him? Just knowing that he might lose his soul and revert to Angelus might be
enough to ensure that he might never be truly happy again.
I kick at another pebble, this time so hard that it goes flying and I hear the
snap of a branch somewhere off in the distance. I guess that I should be
grateful that it wasn't someone's window that just broke.
I stand still when I feel a vampire approach. Senses wheel in my head, until I
realize whom the vampire is. Then I panic just a little bit.
A cigarette butt flies through the air and lands perfectly in front of me. I
pin my eyes on the dark shadow standing still in the woods. Normal humans
probably wouldn't be able to tell where the vampire was. But I can. I'm the
slayer.
"What do you want?" I demand, my voice sharp and hollow.
The figure saunters out of the woods and calmly leans against the trunk of a
tree, smoking another cigarette. "You haven't been around here lately, slayer."
I scowl. "Better places to be. And better company."
Spike looks a little miffed. "That's all the thanks I get? Have you forgotten,
pet, all those times I saved you and lil' bit?"
"Funny. I also remember all the times you tried to kill us."
Spike softens a little. "A man can change. I did… I fell in lo—"
"NO. No, you didn't, Spike. You're a SOULESS DEMON. You don't have any idea
what love is. You *can't* change." I turn my back on him, planning on ignoring
him.
Spike grabs my arm and hauls me around. "I bloody well do know about love! I
know what I feel about you…"
I push him off. "You don't feel anything for me. And it doesn't matter, I
wouldn't touch you in a million years."
Spike laughs. "Seems to me that no one will touch *you*. I can practically feel
the sexual frustration coming off you in waves."
I clench my teeth. "You don't know what you're talking about."
He mockingly raises his eyebrows at me. "The soul in soulboy getting in the
way?"
Without thinking I backhand him as hard as I can. Stumbling from the force of
my hit, he backs into a tree. He grins at me through the blood that pours down
his split lips. "Didn't Angel promise to stake you if you ever bothered me
again?"
"My grandsire isn't here at the moment, luv."
I flinch a little at the arrogance in his voice. "Yeah, but I'm sure that he'd
be delighted to hear that you're hanging around Sunnydale."
Spike licks suggestively at the blood pooling at the corner of his mouth. "Why?
You not a big enough woman to off me yourself?" I glare at him, and ignore his
words. "So what's up with Red's little problem with magic?" he continues,
"heard that she was quitting. That puts you and your boy into quite an
interesting position."
"Look, as much fun as I find myself not having, I have much better ways to
spend my time than talking to you."
"You just don't get it, slayer." Spike takes a long drawn out puff on his
cigarette. "You can't get rid of me. Wherever you turn, I'll show up. Whenever
you're on patrol, I'll be there. Whenever you go to bed at night, I'll watch.
I'm always there."
I feel a chill travel down my spine. He's serious. I focus my eyes on a point
down the street. Sticking to it, I walk forward in the direction I had been
going before I was interrupted.
Spike steps in front of me.
"Get out of my way," I hiss.
"What if I don't feel like it?"
I fold my arms over my chest. "I don't want to fight you if I don't have to."
He doesn't move. "Fine."
My arm shoots out lightening quick. The dust swifts around me before he has
time to blink.
"But we don't always get what we want, right Spike?" I say. The cold silence of
the night is my only answer. Without feeling any regret, I shove the stake back
up my sleeve and head off.
It's time to go home.
****
The drive to L.A passes slowly. Angel finally taught me to drive, but he
insists that I go the speed limit. I'm left alone on the road with nothing to
keep me company but my thoughts.
I killed Spike.
I feel the tiniest pangs of shame. The world probably wouldn't miss him any,
but he had saved my life numerous times and that had to count for something.
But I couldn't deal with him anymore. I couldn't deal with the snide remarks
and that smart-ass grin.
Boy, Angel is really going to like me tonight. Willow can't do magic. His soul
is never going to be glued in tight. And I killed his grandchilde. Although, I
can't imagine that the latter will upset him all that much.
I pull over by the side of the road to get my shaking hands under control.
Stopping the car, I lean heavily against the back of my seat. Taking deep,
calming breaths, I wait until the shaking has stopped before revving the car
and continuing down the highway. It's only then that I realize that I left the
box I'd been packing in the house. Letting out a cold laugh, I grip the
steering wheel harder thinking about the box I'd been packing up in my room.
Oh, well. It doesn't matter now. I'm not going back for it.
It's close to dawn when I pull up in front of the hotel. Walking stiffly, I
wander in and hope that Angel is home because I don't like to think about him
being out so close to sunrise. Inside, my quick senses alert me to the fact
that my mate is not there. Fighting disappointment, I regard Gunn sitting at
the main desk with his head drooped on the counter and his eyes closed.
I give a cough, and fight the urge to laugh as he jumps up looking as white as
a sheet. "Oh… it's just you," he mumbles fuzzily.
I give a little smile. "Just me."
"Man, you and Angel are way too quiet for the good of a normal person."
"I'll remember that. Where's Angel?"
Gunn shrugs. "Don't know. Got stuck on baby-sitting duty."
I feel a little relieved. Despite the sarcastic note in Gunn's voice, I know
he's quite fond of Dawn. Angel explained that he lost his sister to a vampire
over a year ago. "She in bed?"
Gunn nods. "She wanted to look at some of Wesley's books. I told her that she
was going to have to wait a few more years, but she insisted that she was
allowed."
I frown, thinking about how Wesley's books sometimes depict some not so nice
pictures. "I would never let her look at those!"
Gunn and I share a look. "Angel," we say simultaneously. "Probably thinks that
it will do her good or something," I mutter.
"Crazy for a kid to know how to defend herself," he says sarcastically.
I glare at him. "She doesn't need to know how to defend herself. She has me."
"What if you aren't there?" he questions.
I sigh, and lean wearily against the wall. "Let's hope it never comes to that."
At that moment I hear some banging and rustling, and the doors of the Hyperion
fly open to present us with four haggard looking people all talking at once.
"Okay, ewww! Why couldn't the vision have warned me about the slime? There's
only so many new outfits I can buy on the salary I get paid here!"
"Wesley, why didn't you tell me that they reproduce if you cut them in half?"
"It turns out that these were descendants of the family I originally thought
they belonged to…"
"When did demons get so big? Because those were big demons… Buffy! You're
back!"
I can't hide my grin. Of all the people that Angel has made friends with in
L.A, Fred is definitely my favourite. "Hey Fred."
Cordelia sums me up. "Buffy you look… awful."
"Thanks Cor. I missed you, too." I smirk. "But, you are the one covered in
demon goo."
She winces. "Forget I said that last remark."
My eyes land on Angel, and I have to fight the urge to run into his arms and
cover him in kisses. "It's getting close to dawn," I say in greeting. "Is it
fun to see how long it takes before turning to dust?"
"I know what I'm doing," he answers flippantly.
Everyone around us exchanges meaningful glances. "Know what?" Gunn says, "I say
the rest of us catch a quick early morning breakfast."
Cordelia nods. "Far, far, away from here."
"I heard that someone just opened a diner down the street," Wesley offers.
"Good, good," Gunn grabs his coat and heads out of the hotel after Wesley and
Cordelia. Fred hangs back and gives me a supporting smile before heading out
after the gang.
"I take it Sunnydale wasn't a great trip," Angel says once they're gone.
"You take it right."
"What happened?" he asks gently.
I sigh. "A lot." Giving him a quick run-down, I watch as his face changes from
hopeful to disappointed. When I get to part about Spike, he scowls and lets out
a possessive growl.
"Don't tell Dawn," I beg when I'm done with my story. Angel gives me a baffled
look. "She liked him," I explain, "for whatever reason, she actually liked
him."
"I'm glad you killed him," Angel states in a firm voice. "It was past time that
someone did."
"Are you sure that you're not just jealous?"
Angel shoots me a hurt look, which just makes me shrug. "Maybe partly because
of jealousy," he admits, "but Spike isn't safe. Whether or not he has a chip in
his head."
"I know but… he has saved my life, Angel. I think that he really did love me."
Angel lets out a deep rumble from deep inside his chest.
"He isn't capable of love. He's a *soulless* demon."
"It doesn't really matter. He's gone now." I feel a touch of sadness that I
can't for the life of me understand. "I can't help but think that if Willow
hadn't told me that she couldn't bind your soul, then I wouldn't have staked
him."
Angel sighs. "It doesn't matter what could have happened. Spike is ash. As, I
think, he should be."
I look up at him. "What are we going go to do? I can't leave you…."
Angel closes his eyes. "I know. It doesn't matter. We'll find another way."
"But what if there isn't another way? It so hard for me to be around you and
not be able to touch you."
"Maybe we should stay away from each other," Angel suggests, sounding like that
was the last thing he wanted to do.
"No, I can't do that." I walk up to him, and gently place my hand against his
cheek. "I can't live without you again."
He draws me against him, and I relax. I'm home… in Angel's arms I'm home.
"We'll be careful," he whispers in my ear.
I hold him tight. "We'll find another way."
He takes a shaky breath. "Another way," he repeats. "There's always another
way."
"There has to be."
END… until, of course, #9
A/N: Yes, *gulp* I did kill Spike. Couldn't help it. I was feeling anger
towards his character
Hehe…
Cordelia better watch out… Goldy is out for blood!
