Disclaimer- The only character I own here is Rowan herself; the rest I
borrow.
Summary- This takes place before Cordelia becomes part demon and before
Connor is born.
Chapter Nine
Weaknesses Exposed
Rowan's voice had trembled slightly, and she found that she couldn't look Angel in the eye after that last, plaintive sounding statement. But- as pathetic as it sounded- everything had begun to fall into place in her mind, as Angel listened to her story without prejudice, just to hear it. Eyes darting around the room to rest on anything and everything but Angel's own, she let the room fall into an embarrassed silence.
"I mean, my life is just so.odd. I know other magik users, I know other occultists- but they are not quite in the same.how can I even put this? The same league? They flounder around, casting spells for their own personal gain and to try and prove to themselves that magik exists. I KNOW it exists, in ways that these people can't even imagine!" Again, a whine had crept into her voice. "You live in the world, but aren't really a part of it." Angel stated in a low, matter of fact voice, staring at a spot on the wall just above Rowan's head. "You know how it works, but don't see the point. The important things are overlooked in favor of the menial and shallow. In their world, true evil has never and will never exist." Rowan looked up at him through threatening tears. "Until they meet me, and I need to explain about myself. And then, even then, they still don't quite believe. It is easier for them to ignore me than deal with what I truly represent." She swallowed hard, and looked toward the window again. "And I can't be around someone who doesn't accept the dark side that comes naturally with the light side. I have responsibilities that cannot be ignored, and those responsibilities may be dangerous." Angel sat in the silence with her, obviously unsure of how to respond. After all, he was the responsibility of which she spoke. His quiet stretched on, and this time she did not break it. Angel's lack of response made her even more uncomfortable, and she rose up from her spot on the bed to peer out from behind the curtains onto the bright, scattered lights of late night Los Angeles.
After a few more minutes of quiet skyline contemplation, Angel cleared his throat. He was behind her before she realized it, his hand cool on her shoulder even through the sweatshirt. "I understand," was all he said as she turned away from the window to look at him.
Rowan forced the sound of her unshed tears out of her voice. "I thought that you might. Hell, I hoped that you might. But that's not the only reason I came here, you know."
Again, Angel chuckled to himself. "No. You are a complicated woman, apparently. I'm sure there are many reasons you came here. But a big one, I think, was just to be around other people like you." His hand on her shoulder, after a minute's more brief rest, left. "And you certainly found us."
Rowan sniffled. "Yeah, I did. Which was another reason why I want to help you. I'm tired of just Watching. I want to join the battle."
Angel looked at her with honesty in his eyes. "The battle is never easy. Are you really that sure?"
Rowan shrugged and wiped at her runny noise with the cuff of her sleeve. "I think I am. I mean, what's the point of watching and recording when there's no one after me to read it?" She headed back to the bed and sat down, Indian-style.
Angel followed Rowan and sat beside her. "Well, after a few days with us, you'll know for sure."
A look of almost-hope crossed Rowan's face. "Does that mean that you will accept my help?"
A long, contemplative sigh followed. "I need to think more about it. If you know my past, you know why I can't trust just anyone."
Rowan sighed in response herself. "Yeah, I do know."
Angel frowned, lines folding into deep creases at the corners of his mouth. "Maybe if you explain a little more. What exactly did you mean, that I was never meant to lose my soul with Buffy?" There was more strain in the timber of his voice now.
Rowan bit her lip, sliding her tongue over the tender spot she toyed with. "Angel, just promise you won't get irritated with my explanation. I'm too tired to deal with Dark Avenger/Personal Grudge Guy right now."
A smile briefly twisted across Angel's face. He nodded, his moussed, dark hair shaking slightly with the motion. "I promise that I'll try not to."
Rowan exhaled completely, closing her eyes and drawing in a fresh breath. She centered herself, almost as if she was beginning a casting. "In the family journals, each generation records what they See as the future for you. Sort of a Cliff Notes version to keep us all on track, I guess. Buffy- well, there's a mention of the Slayer, several Slayers actually, but never one in reference to the type of relationship you chose to pursue with Buffy."
"What type of relationship do the journals mention?" Angel asked, trying to lean nonchalantly back on the bed, fingers splayed out and palms down, but the general tension in his body giving him away.
"A partnership, nothing more." Rowan hoped he would not ask for anymore detail. "But other factors changed that affected Buffy's life prior to your meeting, and these changed the relationship in ways that we did not See. At least, that's my theory."
Angel seemed a little shaken. "Buffy and I were never meant to- uh- be together?"
Rowan sorrowfully shook her head, knowing that Angel had based a great deal of his life in L.A. on his perception of the Slayer/Souled Vampire relationship. His work here was not just toward his own redemption, as Cordelia and the rest had assumed. In quiet moments, moments that Rowan had stumbled upon Watching and quickly retreated from as best she could, Angel had exposed his feelings about the Slayer and her influence over him. Fighting the Good Fight, even without Buffy, still helped her. Every demon he killed was one less that would end up at the Hellmouth and threaten his soulmate.
Well, who he thought of as his soulmate.
"Angel, the fact that you and Buffy weren't preordained doesn't change the meaning you give to your relationship." Rowan trailed off, not sure how to continue.
He blinked at her, uncertainty clear on his handsome features. "We were never meant to be together?"
"It's very complicated, Angel." Rowan pulled her long hair up and knotted it back. "And this is not just from the Sight. Some of this I gathered from my father and his journals."
Angel rose and paced a diagonal path across the carpet, turning back as he reached the bathroom door and reversing a second time when he approached the nightstand. "How could we not be meant for each other?" Rowan ignored Angel's one-track mind, attempting to answer him by explaining further. "My father's name was Merrick. Did Buffy ever mention that name to you?" At Angel's negative reaction, Rowan explained. "My father was Buffy's first Watcher in L.A., long before she ever heard of Sunnydale. He did his best to prepare her for her destiny, but. Well, he didn't really do a good job. Actually, he was really never meant to Watch her. My father was a last minute replacement for Buffy's intended Watcher, who managed to get herself paralyzed in a car accident. He had already guided, and lost, one Slayer when Buffy was called. Watchers are generally never given more than one Slayer. The emotional stress of knowing what will inevitably happen, is just too much to keep them at the top of their game. In essence, my father screwed up her training. If he'd done it right, she would never have ended up in Sunnydale at all." Angel, still pacing, looked distant. Rowan tried to get his attention back on her story. "Are you listening to me?" Angel snapped his head up to look at her. His response was less than friendly. "Yes, I am. What does any of this Watcher crap from your so- called father have to do with Buffy and me?" Rowan mentally bit her tongue. She was close to losing the trust she thought they had begun to build. "Slayers are usually taken from their families and trained while still young, Angel. Did you ever wonder why that didn't happen to Buffy? Why she was still with her family, who had no clue what she was or would become?" Angel movements became erratic as his distress grew. "But it always seemed. I mean, Whistler showed her to me! The Powers sent me there!" "Whoa, Angel, slow up here!" Rowan tried to start over again. "The Powers sent you to help her- They never said or asked anything else. And although They meant for you two to meet, They had never really meant for you two to meet in Sunnydale. But They do have someone in mind for you, I-I-I'm sure!" Rowan stuttered, trying to cover the information she had not meant to divulge. Angel's eyes were dark with pain and moist; the loneliness blazed up in them. "Do you know that? I mean, Know that?" Rowan looked at him, unable to breathe as she contemplated her options. She did not want to affect the future by exposing something before its time, yet the look in Angel's eyes tormented her. "Angel, do you really want to know? I mean, REALLY? If I were to tell you when and with who, and under what circumstances, how can you be sure that you truly felt love for this person, and not some obligation because of your perceived 'fate?'" She swallowed hard, trying to choke air past the lump in her throat. "And how do you know that there is only one person, in your whole, unnaturally long life, that you were meant to be with?" His eyes flashed fire at her. "I know who I was meant to be with, and I know that I will be with her again some day."
"Your fates divulge, Warrior." The voice came from Rowan's mouth, but was definitely not hers. She felt extremely warm, and dizzy; disorientated in her own mind and body. She could not control what she said or did, but was a passive viewer in the back of her own head. The oddly echoing voice continued. "We allowed you your time with the Slayer because together the two of you changed the future We had planned. The two of you were stronger than We realized. We allowed you that time to do more good than was originally foreseen. Until the line was crossed, and then it was beyond our control." Rowan felt oddly disembodied as the voice continued. "Further, you made a choice of your own- when offered the chance of her love, despite our plans, you rejected her." Angel sputtered in anger at her. His rage boiled near to the surface, yellow flecks appearing in his eyes. "I did NOT reject her, I saved her from an early death!" "SILENCE!" roared Rowan, the force of it rubbing her throat raw. Angel stared at her slack-jawed. Although not a warlock himself, Angel had handled numerous spells and incantations over the long years of his life; as a result, Angel was sensitive to the movements of great magiks. His expression- and lack of physical reaction- told Rowan that she now had proof Angel would listen to. "Slayers die young. You exchanged your years with her for mere months added to her life. You chose to allow her to die alone, apart from you. The Slayer is no longer a part of you, just as We intended all along. You are on a new path, Warrior. And this one," Rowan's arms were thrown out as if to display her own body, "was Sent to you to help. Do not spurn Our aid, for if you do- you spurn your own mission and destiny. The choice is yours." Rowan felt the Power slip from her body in a rushing wave, and folded in on herself in the aftermath of weakness. Rolling over slowly, Rowan closed her eyes and tried to readjust to the returned control of her body. By the time she felt sufficiently recovered to ask Angel, "Is that proof enough for you?" she was speaking to an empty room.
Chapter Nine
Weaknesses Exposed
Rowan's voice had trembled slightly, and she found that she couldn't look Angel in the eye after that last, plaintive sounding statement. But- as pathetic as it sounded- everything had begun to fall into place in her mind, as Angel listened to her story without prejudice, just to hear it. Eyes darting around the room to rest on anything and everything but Angel's own, she let the room fall into an embarrassed silence.
"I mean, my life is just so.odd. I know other magik users, I know other occultists- but they are not quite in the same.how can I even put this? The same league? They flounder around, casting spells for their own personal gain and to try and prove to themselves that magik exists. I KNOW it exists, in ways that these people can't even imagine!" Again, a whine had crept into her voice. "You live in the world, but aren't really a part of it." Angel stated in a low, matter of fact voice, staring at a spot on the wall just above Rowan's head. "You know how it works, but don't see the point. The important things are overlooked in favor of the menial and shallow. In their world, true evil has never and will never exist." Rowan looked up at him through threatening tears. "Until they meet me, and I need to explain about myself. And then, even then, they still don't quite believe. It is easier for them to ignore me than deal with what I truly represent." She swallowed hard, and looked toward the window again. "And I can't be around someone who doesn't accept the dark side that comes naturally with the light side. I have responsibilities that cannot be ignored, and those responsibilities may be dangerous." Angel sat in the silence with her, obviously unsure of how to respond. After all, he was the responsibility of which she spoke. His quiet stretched on, and this time she did not break it. Angel's lack of response made her even more uncomfortable, and she rose up from her spot on the bed to peer out from behind the curtains onto the bright, scattered lights of late night Los Angeles.
After a few more minutes of quiet skyline contemplation, Angel cleared his throat. He was behind her before she realized it, his hand cool on her shoulder even through the sweatshirt. "I understand," was all he said as she turned away from the window to look at him.
Rowan forced the sound of her unshed tears out of her voice. "I thought that you might. Hell, I hoped that you might. But that's not the only reason I came here, you know."
Again, Angel chuckled to himself. "No. You are a complicated woman, apparently. I'm sure there are many reasons you came here. But a big one, I think, was just to be around other people like you." His hand on her shoulder, after a minute's more brief rest, left. "And you certainly found us."
Rowan sniffled. "Yeah, I did. Which was another reason why I want to help you. I'm tired of just Watching. I want to join the battle."
Angel looked at her with honesty in his eyes. "The battle is never easy. Are you really that sure?"
Rowan shrugged and wiped at her runny noise with the cuff of her sleeve. "I think I am. I mean, what's the point of watching and recording when there's no one after me to read it?" She headed back to the bed and sat down, Indian-style.
Angel followed Rowan and sat beside her. "Well, after a few days with us, you'll know for sure."
A look of almost-hope crossed Rowan's face. "Does that mean that you will accept my help?"
A long, contemplative sigh followed. "I need to think more about it. If you know my past, you know why I can't trust just anyone."
Rowan sighed in response herself. "Yeah, I do know."
Angel frowned, lines folding into deep creases at the corners of his mouth. "Maybe if you explain a little more. What exactly did you mean, that I was never meant to lose my soul with Buffy?" There was more strain in the timber of his voice now.
Rowan bit her lip, sliding her tongue over the tender spot she toyed with. "Angel, just promise you won't get irritated with my explanation. I'm too tired to deal with Dark Avenger/Personal Grudge Guy right now."
A smile briefly twisted across Angel's face. He nodded, his moussed, dark hair shaking slightly with the motion. "I promise that I'll try not to."
Rowan exhaled completely, closing her eyes and drawing in a fresh breath. She centered herself, almost as if she was beginning a casting. "In the family journals, each generation records what they See as the future for you. Sort of a Cliff Notes version to keep us all on track, I guess. Buffy- well, there's a mention of the Slayer, several Slayers actually, but never one in reference to the type of relationship you chose to pursue with Buffy."
"What type of relationship do the journals mention?" Angel asked, trying to lean nonchalantly back on the bed, fingers splayed out and palms down, but the general tension in his body giving him away.
"A partnership, nothing more." Rowan hoped he would not ask for anymore detail. "But other factors changed that affected Buffy's life prior to your meeting, and these changed the relationship in ways that we did not See. At least, that's my theory."
Angel seemed a little shaken. "Buffy and I were never meant to- uh- be together?"
Rowan sorrowfully shook her head, knowing that Angel had based a great deal of his life in L.A. on his perception of the Slayer/Souled Vampire relationship. His work here was not just toward his own redemption, as Cordelia and the rest had assumed. In quiet moments, moments that Rowan had stumbled upon Watching and quickly retreated from as best she could, Angel had exposed his feelings about the Slayer and her influence over him. Fighting the Good Fight, even without Buffy, still helped her. Every demon he killed was one less that would end up at the Hellmouth and threaten his soulmate.
Well, who he thought of as his soulmate.
"Angel, the fact that you and Buffy weren't preordained doesn't change the meaning you give to your relationship." Rowan trailed off, not sure how to continue.
He blinked at her, uncertainty clear on his handsome features. "We were never meant to be together?"
"It's very complicated, Angel." Rowan pulled her long hair up and knotted it back. "And this is not just from the Sight. Some of this I gathered from my father and his journals."
Angel rose and paced a diagonal path across the carpet, turning back as he reached the bathroom door and reversing a second time when he approached the nightstand. "How could we not be meant for each other?" Rowan ignored Angel's one-track mind, attempting to answer him by explaining further. "My father's name was Merrick. Did Buffy ever mention that name to you?" At Angel's negative reaction, Rowan explained. "My father was Buffy's first Watcher in L.A., long before she ever heard of Sunnydale. He did his best to prepare her for her destiny, but. Well, he didn't really do a good job. Actually, he was really never meant to Watch her. My father was a last minute replacement for Buffy's intended Watcher, who managed to get herself paralyzed in a car accident. He had already guided, and lost, one Slayer when Buffy was called. Watchers are generally never given more than one Slayer. The emotional stress of knowing what will inevitably happen, is just too much to keep them at the top of their game. In essence, my father screwed up her training. If he'd done it right, she would never have ended up in Sunnydale at all." Angel, still pacing, looked distant. Rowan tried to get his attention back on her story. "Are you listening to me?" Angel snapped his head up to look at her. His response was less than friendly. "Yes, I am. What does any of this Watcher crap from your so- called father have to do with Buffy and me?" Rowan mentally bit her tongue. She was close to losing the trust she thought they had begun to build. "Slayers are usually taken from their families and trained while still young, Angel. Did you ever wonder why that didn't happen to Buffy? Why she was still with her family, who had no clue what she was or would become?" Angel movements became erratic as his distress grew. "But it always seemed. I mean, Whistler showed her to me! The Powers sent me there!" "Whoa, Angel, slow up here!" Rowan tried to start over again. "The Powers sent you to help her- They never said or asked anything else. And although They meant for you two to meet, They had never really meant for you two to meet in Sunnydale. But They do have someone in mind for you, I-I-I'm sure!" Rowan stuttered, trying to cover the information she had not meant to divulge. Angel's eyes were dark with pain and moist; the loneliness blazed up in them. "Do you know that? I mean, Know that?" Rowan looked at him, unable to breathe as she contemplated her options. She did not want to affect the future by exposing something before its time, yet the look in Angel's eyes tormented her. "Angel, do you really want to know? I mean, REALLY? If I were to tell you when and with who, and under what circumstances, how can you be sure that you truly felt love for this person, and not some obligation because of your perceived 'fate?'" She swallowed hard, trying to choke air past the lump in her throat. "And how do you know that there is only one person, in your whole, unnaturally long life, that you were meant to be with?" His eyes flashed fire at her. "I know who I was meant to be with, and I know that I will be with her again some day."
"Your fates divulge, Warrior." The voice came from Rowan's mouth, but was definitely not hers. She felt extremely warm, and dizzy; disorientated in her own mind and body. She could not control what she said or did, but was a passive viewer in the back of her own head. The oddly echoing voice continued. "We allowed you your time with the Slayer because together the two of you changed the future We had planned. The two of you were stronger than We realized. We allowed you that time to do more good than was originally foreseen. Until the line was crossed, and then it was beyond our control." Rowan felt oddly disembodied as the voice continued. "Further, you made a choice of your own- when offered the chance of her love, despite our plans, you rejected her." Angel sputtered in anger at her. His rage boiled near to the surface, yellow flecks appearing in his eyes. "I did NOT reject her, I saved her from an early death!" "SILENCE!" roared Rowan, the force of it rubbing her throat raw. Angel stared at her slack-jawed. Although not a warlock himself, Angel had handled numerous spells and incantations over the long years of his life; as a result, Angel was sensitive to the movements of great magiks. His expression- and lack of physical reaction- told Rowan that she now had proof Angel would listen to. "Slayers die young. You exchanged your years with her for mere months added to her life. You chose to allow her to die alone, apart from you. The Slayer is no longer a part of you, just as We intended all along. You are on a new path, Warrior. And this one," Rowan's arms were thrown out as if to display her own body, "was Sent to you to help. Do not spurn Our aid, for if you do- you spurn your own mission and destiny. The choice is yours." Rowan felt the Power slip from her body in a rushing wave, and folded in on herself in the aftermath of weakness. Rolling over slowly, Rowan closed her eyes and tried to readjust to the returned control of her body. By the time she felt sufficiently recovered to ask Angel, "Is that proof enough for you?" she was speaking to an empty room.
