Chapter Two - Ready or Not
It had been here again. Dawn had woken at 1am to the sound of soft muffled weeping emanating from the Summers' bathroom. Knocking lightly on the door, she had received no reply. Thinking of Chloe's lifeless body, she had suddenly panicked and began pounding on the door with all of her might. Then Buffy had appeared, bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, her face strangely expressionless. Carefully she had caught hold of Dawn's hand and pushed her back. Then with a powerful kick, the door had flown down, revealing a potential crouched in the corner, visibly trembling, her hands covering her face. Buffy felt the bile rise in her throat.
"The First," she murmured to herself. With Dawn looking on, Buffy had gone to the petrified girl and roughly took hold of her. "We're fighting a war now. You're a part of an army. You are not going to give in to this," Buffy had told her harshly, dragging her to her feet. The girl, whose name Buffy did not know, had stared at her with large blue uncomprehending eyes. "You give in and you're dead," Buffy pressed, now grasping her shoulders tightly. "Do you want to die like Chloe?" Each word was punctuated by a sharp shake of the girl.
"No, no, no, no," the girl had wailed, her face crumbling. "I just want to go home."
Buffy then felt Dawn lightly touch her arm. She turned to see Dawn's warning look. "Please, Buffy," Dawn said quietly.
Turning back to the girl, Buffy slowly released her from her grasp. "I'm sorry. But I won't let you die like that," she told the girl before beginning to walk back to her room. Suddenly it occurred to her that she did not know the girl's name. "Hey, what's your name?"
The girl looked up at her quizzically, not expecting the question. "It's Sophie," she replied softly, twiddling a strand of her dark brown wavy hair.
Buffy gave her a glimmer of a smile, then called to Dawn, "Give Sophie some hot chocolate. It'll help her sleep."
As Buffy closed her bedroom door, she heard them descending the stairs. Then she felt the first tear prick at her eye. She desperately fought back, trying not to think about the stolen future of fifteen year old Sophie, of Chloe's suicide, of Annabelle's murder. But it all became too much and the misery overwhelmed her. And as she cried into her pillow, she saw Angel's face again, the gritted teeth, the pain. It was then she fell into an exhausted sleep.
******************************
She was dreaming again. Her eyes fluttered open and she was sixteen again. As she walked through the alley, she felt someone there, following her. Peering cautiously around, she leapt gracefully into the air, grasped hold of a beam, and pulled herself into a handstand. Then she saw him. He walked almost silently, his eyes sweeping his surroundings as if he had lost something. Suddenly she swooped down, knocking him down, her tiny body astride him, pinning him to the ground. He looked up at her, a smirk playing upon his lips.
"Is there a problem ma'am?"
She glared at him, feeling herself drawn to his gorgeously deep dark brown eyes despite herself. He was infuriating. "Yes, there is," she snapped. "Why are you following me?"
"I know what you're thinking. Don't worry," he drawled. "I don't bite." She continued to stare at him angrily, clutching her stake. "Truth is, I thought you'd be taller, bigger muscles and all," he riled her, grimacing as he rubbed his cricked neck. "You're pretty spry though."
"What do you want?" she demanded, hands on hips.
"To kill them. To kill them all."
She gazed deeply into those eyes, oblivious to the conversation that carried on despite her. It had been so long since she had been able to just bask in his presence. Then she felt the small box pressed into her hand. "You've got to be ready," he warned her, disappearing into the night. Watching him go, she gently opened the box, revealing a silver cross. Suddenly, light exploded out of the cross, throwing the world into a bright white light. Buffy closed her eyes and screamed.
Slowly she opened her eyes, feeling her hand burning. She looked down to see her hand clutching Angel's, a flame kindling where their hands joined. "Angel?" she gasped, gripping his hand tighter. "I love you."
He gazed down at her lovingly, his eyes glinting sadly. "You have to be ready, Buffy, to make the sacrifice."
She threw her arms full around him, not caring about the pain shooting through her body. "No, Angel. There has to be another way," she cried desperately, tears trickling down her face.
A beam of light then ripped through his body, tossing Buffy clear away. "Angel!" she screamed, as the world went dark again.
Then she heard a whisper in her ear. "Are you ready?" Angel asked, his face etched in concern.
She woke up, her heart pounding, her breathing ragged. Scrambling out of bed, she raced to her drawers and began pulling things out frantically, her photos, keepsakes and jewellery scattered randomly on the floor. Then finally she found it. Clutching the small box in her hand, she smiled in relief as she saw the silver cross still nestled within it. Gently she took it out and placed it around her neck. Looking at herself in the mirror, Buffy took in the dark circles under her eyes, the dullness of her hazel eyes and winced. What had happened to her? Lightly fingering the cross, she gazed into her own eyes, hoping to find the answer to Angel's question. Was she ready? She truly had no idea. The First was becoming stronger, tightening its grip on the hellmouth; but Buffy was no quitter. The only thing she knew was that she would not sacrifice another person she loved to the cause, no matter what. It would kill her, at least what was left of her. And Buffy was planning to go out with a bang not a whimper, with Angel, her first love, fully intact.
******************************
The sun shone insistently through the small chinks in Buffy's blinds. Reluctantly opening her eyes, she looked at her alarm clock. It was 7am, only an hour or so before work began. Slowly she moved out of bed, grabbed her robe, and went to the bathroom where she was met by the usual noisy queue of potentials. Looking at the restored door, she realised Xander must have rehung it, and quietly at that. She had not heard a sound.
"Andrew's been in there forever," whined Rona, looking pointedly at Buffy. "What's he doing in there?"
"Let's hope we never find out," Amanda answered, giggling. Rona rolled her eyes at Amanda, setting them both off sniggering again.
"Hey, I can hear you out there," Andrew's voice drifted from the bathroom.
Pushing all the girls aside, Anya barged to the door and flung it open. "What are you doing in there, you little freak?" she demanded, looking disgustedly at the handheld camera that was capturing Andrew's every move.
Andrew looked at her sheepishly, and then exited the bathroom swiftly, bumping into Buffy. "Sorry, Buffy," he offered, aiming the camera at her. "The camera loves you!" he exclaimed excitedly, zooming in closer to the hand that was gently cupping the cross at her neck. "Wow, love the necklace. New look on you."
"Get that thing off me," she muttered, swatting Andrew away from her. "Sorry girls, I'm running late for work," she said, striding into the bathroom to the groans of exasperation from the potentials.
"Typical," Rona ground out, sending daggered eyes towards the closed bathroom door. "She always has to come first."
"That's our Buffy," Anya agreed readily to the surprise of the other potentials.
"It is her house," a quiet voice responded. Rona whirled round to freeze Sophie with her glower, leaving Sophie looking helplessly at the floor.
As Rona went to retaliate, Kennedy appeared out of Willow's room, stretching her arms lazily. Noticing the stand off between Rona and Sophie, Kennedy said firmly, "I don't know what's going on here. I don't care. But it ends right now." Under Kennedy's stern gaze, Sophie nodded but Rona held her glare steady. "Rona," Kennedy prompted pointedly.
"Okay, I'm sorry," Rona huffed. "I was only saying-"
"Nothing," Kennedy finished definitively. "Now you girls go and get some breakfast."
"Work it, work it, work that tension," Andrew babbled, filming the scene. "This is going to look great!" Kennedy frowned, and quickly Andrew turned and pointed the camera towards Anya. "You know this film does need some glamour," he flattered.
"Really?" Anya answered, seductively flicking her hair and pouting at the camera. "Well, I do bring that little something extra."
******************************
She yawned her way through work. Ream after ream of troubled student flooded through her door, and she gave out the usual stock of "sensible yet sensitive" advice. It seemed pointless somehow. The hellmouth bubbling beneath them was threatening to engulf them all through the Seal of Danthalzar - the seal that Andrew had opened. She was just glad that Dawn and Amanda had stayed home.
"Everything's going crazy." Robin Wood's voice startled her from her thoughts. She followed his eyes to the chaos erupting in the halls of Sunnydale High, and looked back at him thoughtfully. "Think it's something to do with being right above the hellmouth?"
"Well the hellmouth does have its semi-annual pergulation. Usually around May," she joked. Then at the look of misgiving on his face, added seriously, "I saw all this kind of stuff when I was here. Vanishing girls, Fish Monsters attacking the Swim team but never all at once."
Robin seemed surprised at her admission. "Something's set it off. Do you think.?" he asked.
"The Seal of Danthalzar," she answered. Then suddenly she knew. Andrew held the key to closing the seal. And the quicker she did it, the better. She could feel the evil snaking up from it, clinging around the school and slowly strangling it: if she waited any longer, the students would all be dead.
******************************
Andrew felt himself growing incredibly tense. He felt the eyes of Buffy, Willow, Anya, Xander, Dawn, Spike, Kennedy and Robin burning into him. He nervously ran his hands through his hair, averting his eyes from the charm Willow held in his face.
Willow gave Andrew an impatient look. "Stop going off topic," she admonished him, holding the charm in front of him determinedly. If they did not access Andrew's memories, they would never find out how to close the seal.
"I wasn't off topic. It's gonna get relevant in a second," he said defensively, gazing into the charm. Then he told them about how the First had visited him in the guise of Warren in Mexico, and taunted him towards opening the seal in Sunnydale. It had guided him towards obtaining the knife, and haunted him until he had used it to gut Jonathan, spilling his blood upon the seal.
"We need to see that knife. There's something there," Willow told Buffy.
"Dawn, search his stuff," Buffy ordered.
Andrew looked at them tiredly and spilled the whole story. He had been keeping the knife in the cutlery drawer. Ignoring their looks of disgust, Buffy took the weapon from Dawn and examined the intricate carving on its handle. Andrew recognised the carving - it was an ancient demon language, somehow connected to the seal. When driven into its victim, the words activated the seal: the blood that spill, I consecrate to the oldest evil.
"Everybody get ready to go," Buffy said.
"Fine, I'll round up the girls," Kennedy responded, pleased to have something to pummel.
"No," Buffy told her. "I just want Spike, Robin and Andrew. Everybody else needs to stay here." Kennedy gave her a dark look, then nodded brusquely. Buffy sensed the resentment building in Kennedy, but had no time for it. This was war, not a contest in ego stroking. "Andrew, hurry up."
******************************
Spike watched Buffy as she gathered the weapons together, his face conflicted. Over the last few days, he had noticed a change in Buffy, and it unsettled him. She was distant somehow and the closeness they had begun to share since he had regained his soul was slipping. Sensing his eyes upon her, Buffy turned to regard Spike. "You ok?" she asked him softly.
"Yeah," he answered distractedly, his eyes focusing on the cross at her neck. "What's with the accessory?"
A look of guilt flashed across her face, and she self-consciously covered it. "Oh, it's nothing," she covered edgily. "Just a little something in case the ubervamps come back out to play."
He gave her a sharp look. "Don't lie to me, Buffy. You're hiding something," he replied bitterly. "I know you and Red are up to something and I want to know what."
Anger sizzling in her, she turned to Spike. "I don't have to tell you anything. There's nothing going on," she snapped.
"Then why are you so angry?" he pressed. "I thought there were no secrets between us."
She caught his unwavering gaze, and looked away. "Spike, I trust you. Just accept that," she answered quietly, her face growing pained. "There are just some things I can't tell you. There are just some things I'm not ready for."
He crossed the distance between them, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You can handle anything."
She gave him a small grateful smile. "Let's go get the bad guys," she quipped half-heartedly, slinging the bag over her shoulder. He followed her quietly, feeling the worry within him. Something was seriously wrong.
******************************
As Buffy watched Andrew's tears splash upon the seal, she felt tears pricking at her own eyes again. It had worked. Willow had reasoned that if Andrew shed true tears of remorse, it would close the seal. This is what it wanted - pain, misery, sacrifice. The purest weapons of the First.
Then again she saw Angel's face, and she closed her eyes to blot out the image. But it would not leave her. She looked down at the deactivated seal and smiled sadly at nothing in particular. I'm sorry, Angel, she murmured in her mind, I'm not ready. Then she heard his voice clearly. "You need to be."
She whipped around, spooked, her eyes fixed on Andrew. "Did you say something?" she demanded.
Andrew shook his head brokenly, his eyes still full of tears. "No, Buffy. I didn't say anything, I swear."
She helped him to stand. "It's okay. You did good," she told him gently. As they walked out, Angel's words haunted her. What if she was never ready? What if she could never beat the First?
To Be Continued.
It had been here again. Dawn had woken at 1am to the sound of soft muffled weeping emanating from the Summers' bathroom. Knocking lightly on the door, she had received no reply. Thinking of Chloe's lifeless body, she had suddenly panicked and began pounding on the door with all of her might. Then Buffy had appeared, bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, her face strangely expressionless. Carefully she had caught hold of Dawn's hand and pushed her back. Then with a powerful kick, the door had flown down, revealing a potential crouched in the corner, visibly trembling, her hands covering her face. Buffy felt the bile rise in her throat.
"The First," she murmured to herself. With Dawn looking on, Buffy had gone to the petrified girl and roughly took hold of her. "We're fighting a war now. You're a part of an army. You are not going to give in to this," Buffy had told her harshly, dragging her to her feet. The girl, whose name Buffy did not know, had stared at her with large blue uncomprehending eyes. "You give in and you're dead," Buffy pressed, now grasping her shoulders tightly. "Do you want to die like Chloe?" Each word was punctuated by a sharp shake of the girl.
"No, no, no, no," the girl had wailed, her face crumbling. "I just want to go home."
Buffy then felt Dawn lightly touch her arm. She turned to see Dawn's warning look. "Please, Buffy," Dawn said quietly.
Turning back to the girl, Buffy slowly released her from her grasp. "I'm sorry. But I won't let you die like that," she told the girl before beginning to walk back to her room. Suddenly it occurred to her that she did not know the girl's name. "Hey, what's your name?"
The girl looked up at her quizzically, not expecting the question. "It's Sophie," she replied softly, twiddling a strand of her dark brown wavy hair.
Buffy gave her a glimmer of a smile, then called to Dawn, "Give Sophie some hot chocolate. It'll help her sleep."
As Buffy closed her bedroom door, she heard them descending the stairs. Then she felt the first tear prick at her eye. She desperately fought back, trying not to think about the stolen future of fifteen year old Sophie, of Chloe's suicide, of Annabelle's murder. But it all became too much and the misery overwhelmed her. And as she cried into her pillow, she saw Angel's face again, the gritted teeth, the pain. It was then she fell into an exhausted sleep.
******************************
She was dreaming again. Her eyes fluttered open and she was sixteen again. As she walked through the alley, she felt someone there, following her. Peering cautiously around, she leapt gracefully into the air, grasped hold of a beam, and pulled herself into a handstand. Then she saw him. He walked almost silently, his eyes sweeping his surroundings as if he had lost something. Suddenly she swooped down, knocking him down, her tiny body astride him, pinning him to the ground. He looked up at her, a smirk playing upon his lips.
"Is there a problem ma'am?"
She glared at him, feeling herself drawn to his gorgeously deep dark brown eyes despite herself. He was infuriating. "Yes, there is," she snapped. "Why are you following me?"
"I know what you're thinking. Don't worry," he drawled. "I don't bite." She continued to stare at him angrily, clutching her stake. "Truth is, I thought you'd be taller, bigger muscles and all," he riled her, grimacing as he rubbed his cricked neck. "You're pretty spry though."
"What do you want?" she demanded, hands on hips.
"To kill them. To kill them all."
She gazed deeply into those eyes, oblivious to the conversation that carried on despite her. It had been so long since she had been able to just bask in his presence. Then she felt the small box pressed into her hand. "You've got to be ready," he warned her, disappearing into the night. Watching him go, she gently opened the box, revealing a silver cross. Suddenly, light exploded out of the cross, throwing the world into a bright white light. Buffy closed her eyes and screamed.
Slowly she opened her eyes, feeling her hand burning. She looked down to see her hand clutching Angel's, a flame kindling where their hands joined. "Angel?" she gasped, gripping his hand tighter. "I love you."
He gazed down at her lovingly, his eyes glinting sadly. "You have to be ready, Buffy, to make the sacrifice."
She threw her arms full around him, not caring about the pain shooting through her body. "No, Angel. There has to be another way," she cried desperately, tears trickling down her face.
A beam of light then ripped through his body, tossing Buffy clear away. "Angel!" she screamed, as the world went dark again.
Then she heard a whisper in her ear. "Are you ready?" Angel asked, his face etched in concern.
She woke up, her heart pounding, her breathing ragged. Scrambling out of bed, she raced to her drawers and began pulling things out frantically, her photos, keepsakes and jewellery scattered randomly on the floor. Then finally she found it. Clutching the small box in her hand, she smiled in relief as she saw the silver cross still nestled within it. Gently she took it out and placed it around her neck. Looking at herself in the mirror, Buffy took in the dark circles under her eyes, the dullness of her hazel eyes and winced. What had happened to her? Lightly fingering the cross, she gazed into her own eyes, hoping to find the answer to Angel's question. Was she ready? She truly had no idea. The First was becoming stronger, tightening its grip on the hellmouth; but Buffy was no quitter. The only thing she knew was that she would not sacrifice another person she loved to the cause, no matter what. It would kill her, at least what was left of her. And Buffy was planning to go out with a bang not a whimper, with Angel, her first love, fully intact.
******************************
The sun shone insistently through the small chinks in Buffy's blinds. Reluctantly opening her eyes, she looked at her alarm clock. It was 7am, only an hour or so before work began. Slowly she moved out of bed, grabbed her robe, and went to the bathroom where she was met by the usual noisy queue of potentials. Looking at the restored door, she realised Xander must have rehung it, and quietly at that. She had not heard a sound.
"Andrew's been in there forever," whined Rona, looking pointedly at Buffy. "What's he doing in there?"
"Let's hope we never find out," Amanda answered, giggling. Rona rolled her eyes at Amanda, setting them both off sniggering again.
"Hey, I can hear you out there," Andrew's voice drifted from the bathroom.
Pushing all the girls aside, Anya barged to the door and flung it open. "What are you doing in there, you little freak?" she demanded, looking disgustedly at the handheld camera that was capturing Andrew's every move.
Andrew looked at her sheepishly, and then exited the bathroom swiftly, bumping into Buffy. "Sorry, Buffy," he offered, aiming the camera at her. "The camera loves you!" he exclaimed excitedly, zooming in closer to the hand that was gently cupping the cross at her neck. "Wow, love the necklace. New look on you."
"Get that thing off me," she muttered, swatting Andrew away from her. "Sorry girls, I'm running late for work," she said, striding into the bathroom to the groans of exasperation from the potentials.
"Typical," Rona ground out, sending daggered eyes towards the closed bathroom door. "She always has to come first."
"That's our Buffy," Anya agreed readily to the surprise of the other potentials.
"It is her house," a quiet voice responded. Rona whirled round to freeze Sophie with her glower, leaving Sophie looking helplessly at the floor.
As Rona went to retaliate, Kennedy appeared out of Willow's room, stretching her arms lazily. Noticing the stand off between Rona and Sophie, Kennedy said firmly, "I don't know what's going on here. I don't care. But it ends right now." Under Kennedy's stern gaze, Sophie nodded but Rona held her glare steady. "Rona," Kennedy prompted pointedly.
"Okay, I'm sorry," Rona huffed. "I was only saying-"
"Nothing," Kennedy finished definitively. "Now you girls go and get some breakfast."
"Work it, work it, work that tension," Andrew babbled, filming the scene. "This is going to look great!" Kennedy frowned, and quickly Andrew turned and pointed the camera towards Anya. "You know this film does need some glamour," he flattered.
"Really?" Anya answered, seductively flicking her hair and pouting at the camera. "Well, I do bring that little something extra."
******************************
She yawned her way through work. Ream after ream of troubled student flooded through her door, and she gave out the usual stock of "sensible yet sensitive" advice. It seemed pointless somehow. The hellmouth bubbling beneath them was threatening to engulf them all through the Seal of Danthalzar - the seal that Andrew had opened. She was just glad that Dawn and Amanda had stayed home.
"Everything's going crazy." Robin Wood's voice startled her from her thoughts. She followed his eyes to the chaos erupting in the halls of Sunnydale High, and looked back at him thoughtfully. "Think it's something to do with being right above the hellmouth?"
"Well the hellmouth does have its semi-annual pergulation. Usually around May," she joked. Then at the look of misgiving on his face, added seriously, "I saw all this kind of stuff when I was here. Vanishing girls, Fish Monsters attacking the Swim team but never all at once."
Robin seemed surprised at her admission. "Something's set it off. Do you think.?" he asked.
"The Seal of Danthalzar," she answered. Then suddenly she knew. Andrew held the key to closing the seal. And the quicker she did it, the better. She could feel the evil snaking up from it, clinging around the school and slowly strangling it: if she waited any longer, the students would all be dead.
******************************
Andrew felt himself growing incredibly tense. He felt the eyes of Buffy, Willow, Anya, Xander, Dawn, Spike, Kennedy and Robin burning into him. He nervously ran his hands through his hair, averting his eyes from the charm Willow held in his face.
Willow gave Andrew an impatient look. "Stop going off topic," she admonished him, holding the charm in front of him determinedly. If they did not access Andrew's memories, they would never find out how to close the seal.
"I wasn't off topic. It's gonna get relevant in a second," he said defensively, gazing into the charm. Then he told them about how the First had visited him in the guise of Warren in Mexico, and taunted him towards opening the seal in Sunnydale. It had guided him towards obtaining the knife, and haunted him until he had used it to gut Jonathan, spilling his blood upon the seal.
"We need to see that knife. There's something there," Willow told Buffy.
"Dawn, search his stuff," Buffy ordered.
Andrew looked at them tiredly and spilled the whole story. He had been keeping the knife in the cutlery drawer. Ignoring their looks of disgust, Buffy took the weapon from Dawn and examined the intricate carving on its handle. Andrew recognised the carving - it was an ancient demon language, somehow connected to the seal. When driven into its victim, the words activated the seal: the blood that spill, I consecrate to the oldest evil.
"Everybody get ready to go," Buffy said.
"Fine, I'll round up the girls," Kennedy responded, pleased to have something to pummel.
"No," Buffy told her. "I just want Spike, Robin and Andrew. Everybody else needs to stay here." Kennedy gave her a dark look, then nodded brusquely. Buffy sensed the resentment building in Kennedy, but had no time for it. This was war, not a contest in ego stroking. "Andrew, hurry up."
******************************
Spike watched Buffy as she gathered the weapons together, his face conflicted. Over the last few days, he had noticed a change in Buffy, and it unsettled him. She was distant somehow and the closeness they had begun to share since he had regained his soul was slipping. Sensing his eyes upon her, Buffy turned to regard Spike. "You ok?" she asked him softly.
"Yeah," he answered distractedly, his eyes focusing on the cross at her neck. "What's with the accessory?"
A look of guilt flashed across her face, and she self-consciously covered it. "Oh, it's nothing," she covered edgily. "Just a little something in case the ubervamps come back out to play."
He gave her a sharp look. "Don't lie to me, Buffy. You're hiding something," he replied bitterly. "I know you and Red are up to something and I want to know what."
Anger sizzling in her, she turned to Spike. "I don't have to tell you anything. There's nothing going on," she snapped.
"Then why are you so angry?" he pressed. "I thought there were no secrets between us."
She caught his unwavering gaze, and looked away. "Spike, I trust you. Just accept that," she answered quietly, her face growing pained. "There are just some things I can't tell you. There are just some things I'm not ready for."
He crossed the distance between them, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You can handle anything."
She gave him a small grateful smile. "Let's go get the bad guys," she quipped half-heartedly, slinging the bag over her shoulder. He followed her quietly, feeling the worry within him. Something was seriously wrong.
******************************
As Buffy watched Andrew's tears splash upon the seal, she felt tears pricking at her own eyes again. It had worked. Willow had reasoned that if Andrew shed true tears of remorse, it would close the seal. This is what it wanted - pain, misery, sacrifice. The purest weapons of the First.
Then again she saw Angel's face, and she closed her eyes to blot out the image. But it would not leave her. She looked down at the deactivated seal and smiled sadly at nothing in particular. I'm sorry, Angel, she murmured in her mind, I'm not ready. Then she heard his voice clearly. "You need to be."
She whipped around, spooked, her eyes fixed on Andrew. "Did you say something?" she demanded.
Andrew shook his head brokenly, his eyes still full of tears. "No, Buffy. I didn't say anything, I swear."
She helped him to stand. "It's okay. You did good," she told him gently. As they walked out, Angel's words haunted her. What if she was never ready? What if she could never beat the First?
To Be Continued.
