Title: Those Left Behind
By: Shadows59
Spoilers: Up to the Gift
Rating: PG-15 for violence.
Summary: The final battle with Glory goes far worse, leaving Dawn, Giles and Anya to move on after the deaths of their friends
Disclaimer: BTVS is owned, beaten and abused by Joss Whedon.
Author's note 1: Xander was Glory's host, not Ben.
Author's note 2: The prologues are based on what I've heard to be the original plan for the Gift.
Now, on with the show.
PROLOGUE ONE - WHITE KNIGHT STAINED RED
Giles stood in the shadows and watched Buffy and Glory fight. It was a terrible thing to watch, in every sense of the word.
And the outcome was never in doubt.
"Stop it!" Glory commanded, somehow managing to still sound regal despite the fact that she was on her knees and her face was a bloody mask.
"You're a god, make me stop," Buffy snapped back, her first words since the fight started, and slammed the head of the hammer into Glory's face. The impact knocked the goddess back a dozen feet. Buffy followed after with all of the warmth of a shark circling its prey.
"Please stop," Glory begged, for what must have been the first time in her existence, as she tried to push herself up.
Buffy paused. "Get out of Xander's body and I will."
Glory actually laughed. "What do you think I was trying to do?"
The laugh became a howl when Buffy brought the hammer down on Glory's hand.
"I can't!" Glory sobbed as she clutched her ruined hand to her chest. "I'm stuck in the flesh bag until I go home. So, unless you'll stand aside..."
This was the moment Giles had been dreading since the gas station, since they learned that Xander was Glory's human prison.
Since Buffy's breakdown...
To save her sister, to save the world, Buffy had to kill one of her dearest friends. And if she couldn't do it...
There were unshed tears staining her voice when she gave Glory her answer. "I'm so sorry, Xander." She tightened her grip on the handle, raised the war hammer over her head... and let it slip between her fingers as she dropped to her knees. She and the hammer hit the ground at the same moment, though the latter made far more noise against the pavement. "Xander?"
"Buffy?"
Before Xander could say anything else Buffy had her arms around him. "It'll be okay, Xander, you'll see. Willow and Giles will make everything better."
Giles closed his eyes and let out a shuddering sigh. She had such faith in him, all of them did, so much more than he deserved.
"No, Buffy," Xander began, but his words were lost in a burst of wet coughs.
"You'll see," Buffy repeated with the confidence of a child. "Next week we'll all be back in the Magic Box trying not to listen as Anya brags about... You know." Giles could only imagine her blush as she paused for breath. What she said next was so soft Giles had to strain to hear it. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Buffy..."
And then the ground shook as a muffled explosion rocked the air. Buffy turned, her face pale under the streetlight, and looked back down the alley to the tower. Then she turned back and kissed Xander's forehead. "Just sit tight. I'll be right back."
She didn't wait for an answer before she stood and disappeared down the alley.
Giles stood frozen to the ground. He knew what had to be done, but...
And then Xander turned to look at him. "You can come out now, G-Man."
Giles stepped out of the shadows with all the grace of Frankenstein's monster. "I thought I asked you not to call me that?"
"I've held back for three years now. Figured I'd go wild." Xander grinned, his grin broken by gapping holes.
"Yes, you've been..." Giles voice broke, the act no longer worth the effort.
Xander's forced grin faded. "Don't, Giles. Trust me, it feels bad enough already."
"How did you know I was here?"
"Glory saw you, but she was a little busy." Xander closed his eyes. "I remember everything, Giles, everything Glory did. All the blood, all those people she violated, Tara... God, Willow must..."
"Willow could never hate you, Xander."
"I tried to stop her, I swear I did... But she was too strong, and I'd forget every time she slipped back inside..."
Giles knelt down and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I know you did. No one could've done more."
Xander didn't seem to hear him. "I couldn't even get Dawn away..."
"You did all you could. Of that I'm certain."
Xander shuddered for a moment, and then opened his eyes to stare at Giles. "You can't get her out, can you?"
Giles almost lied. "No. The two of you have been together too long..."
"Thought so. Buffy should have..."
"She couldn't. Doing even this much nearly broke her."
"I know, she's a hero." Xander said it with the same calm acceptance as if he said the sun would rise tomorrow.
"As are you."
Xander gave Giles a what-movie-are-you-watching look before he shrugged it away. "She'll be back."
"I know."
"Take care of my girls, and watch out for Anya for me. I know she can be annoying, but..."
But he loved her. At first Giles had doubted that - the fact that he'd almost polished through a pair of glasses because of the two hadn't helped matters - but they'd clearly been happy together. "I will."
"And tell her I'm sorry that I missed our big day."
"Of course," Giles readily agreed even though he didn't have a clue as to what the young man was talking about.
"Don't let Buffy blame herself," Xander paused and studied Giles' face, "and no getting drunk and listening to 60's music over this."
Giles could only nod. He wanted to say how proud he was of the young man, he wanted to say so many things, but he couldn't find the words. He stared down at Xander and knew it wouldn't take much; Buffy had come so close to killing the boy already. A quick cut, or a sharp twist would do it...
But he couldn't...
Xander gave Giles a half smile. "Let's put this bitch in the ground." With that he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the dirty pavement.
Giles reached over and wrapped his hands over Xander's face, clamping the boy's nose together with one while holding his mouth shut with the other. Xander didn't fight at all until the very end, when instinct overrode all else.
Finally even that weak struggle stopped.
"Godspeed, Xander," Giles whispered as he reached up to close Xander's eyes, only to pause when he saw a bright white light flash inside them.
He jumped back in horror, thinking only that Glory had somehow survived, when he heard what sounded like thunder behind him. He turned and saw the sky torn open high over his head.
The key had been used. He'd murdered the closest thing he ever had to a son for nothing.
PROLOGUE TWO - HURTS SO BIG
The metal grating dug into Dawn's bare feet, but she ignored the pain and stood as still as possible so she could listen.
Before she could hear the clang of metal on metal, war cries, and - worse of all - the occasional scream of pain. Then there was an explosion that rocked the tower so hard she expected the whole thing to come tumbling down. It was, after all, designed and built by crazy people. Somehow she doubted it was up to code.
After that there was nothing.
It was over. All that was left to do was see who won. Dawn watched the final length of ladder and waited.
Then she got her answer.
She let out a shriek of fear when Willow appeared not ten feet away, on the opposite edge of the glorified plank that she was tied to. "God, Willow!" She said, annoyed at herself for being so scared. "You could at least say bamf when you do that."
That was when she saw the bloody knife in Willow's hand. Worrying, yes, but she could deal. It was the funny way that Willow said, "Hi, Dawnie," that freaked her out.
"Are you alright? 'Cause I kinda thought seeing Xander in a dress would be the freakiest part of this week..."
Actually, the freakiest part was watching the crazy bottle-blond bitch-god turn into the man she'd been crushing on for the last five years. He looked so scared - which made things so much worse, because Xander NEVER looked scared - as he snuck her out of Glory's bunker downstairs.
He'd gotten her to the street and told her to run, which she did. She wasn't stupid. She'd thought he was right behind her, and then she heard a bottle smash. When she turned back Xander's arm was a bloody mess. If Glory...
She was almost glad when Glory came back.
"No, definitely not of the good," Willow admitted with a sad shake of her head as she started walking across the platform.
"D-did something happen to Buffy? Or Xander?"
Willow paused to look down over the edge. " No. She'd fine, and he's... Well, he's not fine, but he's still alive."
Dawn just stared. She couldn't see anything from up here, how could... And then Willow turned back, and Dawn saw her face in the light for the first time. "What happened to your eyes?" They were like twin black orbs. Empty spaces without a hint of the Willow Dawn knew.
Willow looked confused until she brushed her hand over her eyes. "Oh, that. It's just a side effect. Nothing to worry about."
"Wow, that makes me feel so much not better," Dawn said and started pulling at the ropes that held her still again. She'd stopped before because she'd rubbed her wrists almost raw trying to slip free. Now a little pain didn't seem like such a big deal. "What happened?"
"Tara died," Willow said with the barest flicker of emotion as she held up the knife for Dawn to see. "I saved her, gave her back her mind, and then one of the crazies... I wasn't paying attention..."
"Oh, God," Dawn whimpered as she stared at the still wet blood that gleamed on the blade. "Willow, I'm so sorry."
"I felt her leave me," Willow said, her voice drifting away. "I tried to stop her, to bring her back, but I couldn't. I wasn't strong enough." Her hand tightened on the knife's handle. "So I made myself stronger."
Then she turned back to Dawn and smiled a real, one-hundred-percent genuine Willow smile. "You're so pretty. All green and flashy. I don't know how I missed it for so long." She reached over and brushed her hand across Dawn's stomach.
Dawn let out a startled, "Hey! Bad touch! Bad touch!" as she pushed herself as far away from Willow as she could.
Willow let her hand drop but kept grinning. "No mortal person has ever had this much power. Ever. I actually feel it surging through every cell of my body... Every molecule... Like I'm connected to everything, everyone." Her smile faded. "All the emotion... All the pain... The whole world screaming out..."
"For ice cream?" Dawn asked, trying her best to be as brave as the bravest person she knew.
"For the pain to stop." She took another step towards Dawn. "I can stop it - WE can stop it."
"If you want to stop MY pain, luv," Spike interrupted, "then stop flapping your lips."
"Spike?" Dawn asked as she strained to see past Willow. She wasn't sure... she hadn't heard him come up - one of the drawbacks of being friends with a vampire - but he was there, and it had to be the single best sight she'd ever seen. Except for... "Spike?" She asked again with worry.
Spike glanced down at the growing bloodstain over his stomach. "No need to worry, Niblet. Took a rebar through the gut, is all. Be better in no time. Coat's a loss, though."
Willow didn't even bother to turn. "Why do you bother, Spike? She'll never love you."
"She who?" Dawn asked. Willow and Spike ignored her, which was of the good for once.
Spike glared a hole into the back of the red head's skull. "Because I made a promise."
"Really? Tara promised that she'd never leave me," Willow said as if that explained everything. "Incendre."
Spike and Dawn's screams mixed together as the vampire burst into flames.
Dawn screamed again when Willow slashed the knife across her stomach, the tip of the blade cut through the freaky robe and her flesh like they were so much tissue paper.
Once it was all the way through Willow twisted the knife around in her hand for another pass across Dawn's stomach, only to stop. The darkness in her eyes flickered as she whispered, "Xander?"
With that single world, Dawn knew that Xander was gone.
And then Spike was there, his body still burning as he tackled Willow off the platform. The two hung in midair for a moment, fire consuming them both, before they fell.
Dawn could still see the streak of light as she closed her eyes and waited. Even though she knew it was coming she still jumped when she heard the wet thump of flesh on the concrete.
And then she heard something else, the clatter of boots on metal. So she opened her eyes just as Buffy pulled herself up the last length of ladder. "Dawn! Thank God! When I saw that thing fall..." Buffy said with a grin. A grin that faded the moment she saw her sister. "Oh, God. You're hurt."
Dawn looked down and pained whimper when she saw what was now a bloody gash in her stomach, she'd completely forgotten about it until Buffy reminded her. Buffy was over in an instant, her hands pressing against the cut, trying to stop the bleeding, but it was too late.
Dawn felt the blood trickle down her leg. A single drop ran between her toes and slipped through the grating.
There was a blast of wind and a flash of light as her blood tore through the fabric of reality.
"Come on!" Buffy shouted as she all but ripped the ropes off of Dawn's arms and started dragging her sister across the grating to the ladder.
Dawn yanked her arm free of Buffy's grip and looked down. She could see the portal through the gating. It was rolling ball of energy, twenty feet straight down, and growing with every moment. "I can't. Buffy, it's started," Dawn said and took a hesitant step back down the platform. "It's all my fault. All of it. And I can stop it."
"No!" Buffy screamed and grabbed Dawn so hard that Dawn was surprised her bones didn't break. Buffy took a deep breath and loosened her grip. "No, we just have to find Willow and Tara..."
Dawn swallowed hard. "They're dead."
"What?"
"They're dead!" Dawn turned and screamed in Buffy's face. She could feel herself crying but she didn't care. "Xander too! They're all dead and it's my fault!"
"No," Buffy said, shaking her head. "No, Xander's not... I just saw him..."
"He's dead. He's dead and it's all my fault." With that Dawn turned her back on her sister and started down the platform.
"No!" Buffy shouted as she grabbed Dawn by the arm and spun her around. "I can't... I can't lose you too. The fall - whatever that thing is - it'll kill you!"
"I know," Dawn said, her voice a whisper, "but I have to. My blood opened it, and my blood will close it."
"Blood?" Buffy repeated as she stared down at Dawn's stomach, and then down at her own arm. She was smiling as she leaned forward to kiss Dawn on the forehead. "I love you, Dawn, never forget that. Live the life we couldn't."
"What?" Dawn asked, confused until Buffy ran past her. "Buffy, no!" She screamed and reached out. She felt the fabric of Buffy's shirt slip through her fingers and tried to grab it, but her hands were still too numb from being tied up for so long.
She could only watch as Buffy ran to the edge of the platform.
PROLOGUE THREE: SAYING GOODBYE
"Dawn?" Anya knew something was wrong when she opened her eyes and saw the girl sitting there alone next to her.
Actually, she knew something was wrong when she woke up and found she couldn't move the right half of her body. That's what got her to shake off the last of whatever was keeping her asleep and open her eyes. She wasn't sure if she should be relieved or not when she saw the cast that ran from her toes to almost her hip on her right leg, but she knew she was annoyed when she saw that her right arm was in a sling again.
She was about to let out a series of scathing and rabbit-related epithets when she saw Dawn sitting there.
The girl's nose was red and puffy, as was the area around her eyes. All of which said bad.
"Dawnie? What happened?"
Dawn didn't answer. She just put her head on Anya's left shoulder and started crying.
Anya tried to wrap her good arm around Dawn and started whispering nothing sounds into the top of the teenager's head. All the things Xander had done to make her feel better when Joyce had...
No one ever told her why.
"You want to put Spike's name on it, too?" Angel asked with an impressive mix of anger and disbelief.
Anya looked up, glad for a distraction from the stack of papers that were piled in front of her. She'd been staring at them for what felt like days, but she couldn't make out the words.
"He deserves to be there," Dawn answered, glaring back at Angel from across the dining room table.
"Then we must be talking about a different Spike," Cordelia said from her seat next to Anya, who wasn't sure why the former cheerleader was sitting so close. There was plenty of room around the table, after all. And she'd been hanging around a lot since she'd gotten here... Yesterday? That didn't seem right. "Because the Spike I remember - you know, the one who attacked the school on Parent-Teacher night, assembled the Judge, kidnapped Willow and Xander, and gave Angel to a child molesting torture freak - doesn't deserve a damn thing."
"He deserves to be there," Anya repeated, though without Dawn's fire.
Cordelia gave her an odd look, and then turned to the head of the table. "Giles?"
Anya turned too, she'd been so glad when Giles had gotten back from Los Angeles. She'd thought he'd... It didn't matter that Dawn said he hadn't, she had to see him to be sure.
Giles eyes were empty when he finally looked up from his own pile of papers, which was far larger than either hers or Dawn's because they were the legal work to make him Dawn's guardian until they found her father, something he, Joyce and Buffy had set up before...
Those empty eyes went right to Angel. "You heard them, Spike's name deserves to be there. He, at least, was here when we needed him."
Angel, Cordelia and the other one from LA - Anya wasn't sure what his name was, she knew that they'd been introduced, but the actual name had slipped away. A lot of things seemed to have slipped away from her in the past few days - all looked like they'd been slapped.
"Hey, now..." Cordelia began.
Only to be cut off by Angel, who stood so fast that he knocked down his chair. "We would have been if anyone had bothered to tell us you had a Hell God running lose," he said, glaring down at Giles.
"Angel," the other guy... Weasely - Anya knew she'd remember, sooner or later - tried to step in.
"No, Wes. I was here three weeks ago and Buffy never said a word. We could have..."
"Died?" Anya asked. Every eye went to her. A whole roomful of pain aimed right at her.
And then they sifted to Angel, who actually went pale before he turned and left the room.
"Clearly tempers are a bit..." Weasely began.
Only to be cut off by the sound of something heavy hitting a wall in the living room. Everyone else looked confused, but Anya knew what it was. She'd heard the exact same sound when...
She felt Cordelia's arms wrap around her, and turned as much as she could in her wheelchair to bury her face in the other girl's shoulder so Giles and Dawn couldn't see her cry.
Then she was sitting on what used to be Joyce's bed, dressed in a long black skirt, which only made her cast stand out more, and a black bra while somebody - Cordelia probably, but she was never sure - tried to pull a black blouse over her right arm without actually moving it.
"Come on, Anya, you could help me out just a little bit here."
Eight people.
Anya looked around the all but empty chapel and counted again, just to be sure. Angel was sitting next to Dawn in the second pew, Wesley and Giles were two back, she and Cordelia were in the back, and Willow's parents were on the other side entirely and avoiding everyone else as much as possible.
Eight. Three more than they were burying.
And Willow's parents had been a close thing. It took Giles and Cordelia working together for a day to track them down. They never found Buffy's father - to no one but Dawn's surprise - and Tara's father had hung up when Giles called. Anya had called Xander's parents herself to make sure they'd be here. They'd promised...
But they never showed up. Their only son was dead, and they couldn't bother to show up for his funeral.
"Bastards," Anya muttered, forgetting where she was.
Cordelia looked over and took Anya's hand. "I know. They always were."
Anya looked over in surprise. She thought that she was the only one who knew... Buffy and Willow never said anything, not even after Buffy sat through one of the bigger fights. "They didn't deserve him."
"They really didn't..." Cordelia smiled and looked up at the urn that was sitting on the altar, second to the left.
Giles had insisted Xander be cremated, terrified that someone would bring Glory back and make all of this meaningless if he wasn't. He'd been equally afraid that she'd refuse, and surprised that she didn't until she explained that when she was first human all brave warriors were cremated, only cowards and women were actually buried.
She was only sorry they couldn't do a proper job and get boats.
After that Dawn had decided to do the same with Buffy. And Willow's parents didn't say a word when Giles asked them.
"...neither did we," Cordelia finished as she turned back to Anya. "He did love you, you know. We might not have talked often, what with us both busy with crappy jobs and saving the world, but I could tell that he did. I'm not sure if..."
"I know. He told me right before Christmas."
"He did?" Cordelia asked, surprised. And then she scowled and muttered, "Figures." That grew into a fiery rant, the kind that would have gotten Anya's attention in her Anyanka days, at least until it collapsed into tears and apologies and ended with Cordelia resting her head on Anya's shoulder for support.
Anya leaned her head against Cordelia's as they stared up at Xander's urn. Anya barely noticed it when she reached up and brushed her fingers against the engagement ring she had hanging by a chain under her blouse.
Today was the first time she'd worn the ring since he gave it to her at the abandoned gas station. She remembered being annoyed when he pulled her into an empty back room, even she knew it wasn't a good time for sex... But then he got down on one knee and pulled out the velvet box. She'd said yes.
Forever turned out to be about a half hour.
"...They were the best among us," Giles said. With that he turned away from the podium to look at the five urns that were set on the altar behind him. Anya wondered if he could see their faces as he stared, or if he just saw the jars that held their bodies.
Except for Spike's, of course.
Giles shuddered once before he turned and made his way back to his seat, every step almost painfully slow. Before he turned into his pew he glanced up at her - directly up, she was sitting in her wheelchair in the aisle because the pews were too narrow for her cast - and tried to smile.
Somehow, that only made things worse.
Spike Williams 1974-2001, Alexander Harris 1981-2001, Buffy Anne Summers 1981-2001, Willow Rosenberg 1982-2001, Tara MacLay 1981-2001
Beloved Friends
Devoted Family
They Saved the World
A Lot
Anya wondered if it would see any more real if she reached out and touched the engraved names. Then she wondered if she wanted it to feel any more real. In the end she just sat and stared.
"Anya," Cordelia called her name as she crouched down to look Anya in the eyes, "How're you doing?"
"Very well, thank you for asking," Anya said, her voice rough, without taking her eyes off the headstone.
"I'm not trying to buy anything," Cordelia said as she took Anya's hand again, "I just want to know how you're doing. Actually, I wanted to make sure you weren't frozen or anything, because you've been sitting here for a half-hour now."
"I'm fine," Anya said. "You should check on Dawn. She could use someone..."
"Angel's with her. Or she's with him, he can be a baby sometimes." Cordelia paused for a moment before going on. "And Wesley's with Giles, probably telling him to keep his lip starched or whatever British people say at these things. So I'm free if you need me."
"Why? Why've you been doing all of this? We aren't friends," Anya asked without venom.
"No, we're not," Cordelia agreed as crouched down so she could look Anya in the eye, "But he wouldn't want you to be alone right now."
Anya reached up with her left hand and fiddled with her necklace again as she turned back to the headstone. "We should have said more."
"Really? I thought Giles' eulogy was nice. Though if you want, I'll go get Wesley. He can yap on for hours."
"Not the... there was a eulogy?"
"I thought you looked out of it. How many painkillers did the doctor give you?" Cordelia asked, somehow forgetting that she'd been the one keeping track of when Anya was supposed to take the many pills she'd been given. "Do you need another one? It's been about six hours." With that she pulled her purse into her lap and started to reach inside.
"No. It doesn't hurt that much." Which it didn't, except for the throbbing she felt in her leg and the shooting pains in her shoulder whenever she shifted her arm even a little bit.
"Liar," Cordelia said, but she let her purse drop back to her side anyway.
"We only wrote ten words. We should have said more."
Cordelia turned to the headstone and smiled. "They're the right ten words."
"Maybe," Anya allowed, but not convinced.
"Trust me. They're the right ten." Cordelia grabbed her purse again and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. She scrawled something down, tore off the sheet, and handed it to Anya. "Here."
"What's this?"
"My number. Call me any time you want."
Anya stared down at the paper in her hand. "Why?"
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "In case you want to talk. About..." Her voice caught. "Well, let's just say I have stories, and so do you. Besides, you're one of the last people I know from high school and I... I wouldn't mind talking, all right?"
Anya half-shrugged again and pushed the piece of paper into her purse. "All right."
Cordelia grinned and pulled Anya into another hug. Anya put her left arm around Cordelia, but her eyes never left the tombstone.
The landscape outside was beautiful, made up of vivid green lawns and gardens that had been hand sculpted for generations in front of manor houses that all but screamed money. All done to say 'look, someone important lives here.'
Anya watched it all through the limousine's window without seeing any of it. All the important people she knew were 5,500 miles away and under a bit of polished rock.
Except for the two with her, of course. She turned away from the window. Giles was sitting in the seat in front of her, her leg propped up next to him, and staring down at the floor. He looked so much older. It wasn't so much his face, though she swore he'd gained a dozen wrinkles, but the eyes.
He'd aged a decade in a week.
Dawn was sitting next to Anya, Amy's cage between them, with Miss Kitty Fantastico on her lap. She was absently stroking the cat's back while the cat stared out the window with wide-eyed wonder.
The limousine turned and drove through a set of cast iron gates before it slowed to a stop. Giles started and looked around in confusion, as if he'd forgotten where he was. He finally looked out a window and smiled. "We're here," he said, his voice rough from disuse. It was the first words any of them had said since the funeral.
Since yesterday.
She hadn't said a word in a day.
If Xander was here...
If Xander...
Anya's left hand went to the ring again as Giles opened the door and got out to stretch his legs a bit before he went around the car and opened Anya's door. The driver was already there and waiting with her wheelchair. Between the two of them they managed to move her across without jostling her too much.
She heard Dawn climb out the other side and let out an awed gasp. "Damn, Giles..."
Anya turned. The house was impressive, two stories and late Victorian in design, unless she missed her guess. She'd seen more impressive homes in her day, but not many.
This certainly explained how Giles managed to go fifteen months without a job.
Giles didn't turn. In fact he had the same expression now that he'd gotten whenever Buffy offered - used to offer to make lemonade for the group. "Yes, home, sweet home."