Author: Asrai
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de
Rating: R
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 13 - Song Without a Name
*If not for her enhanced slayer hearing, Buffy wouldn't have heard the quiet opening of the apartment door. She took off the headphones supplying her with loud heavy metal music and called through the closed door, "Mom? Is that you?"
"Yeah," came the slurred response.
Buffy put on the headphones again, then thought about it and rose from her bed, switching off the discman. She opened the door and was greeted by the heavy stench of alcohol coming from her mother. She crinkled her nose; in this case she regretted her heightened senses.
"Been drinking again?"
"I-," Joyce's legs gave up and she staggered; Buffy caught her in time to prevent her from crashing to the floor.
"That's a yes for me. Come on, let's get you into bed."
Her mother didn't protest and Buffy, feeling patient and gentle for once, undressed her and tucked her into bed. She switched off the light and was just about to leave the room as Joyce's voice held her back.
"Buffy? I'm."
"Yeah?"
She didn't turn around.
"Nothing."
"Good night."*
~~~
I didn't let myself think about it very long; if my screaming had attracted attention, then I'd better get the hell out of dodge before someone saw my room- and the. corpses on the bed that Angel so charmingly left me. Angel, or his psycho doppelganger; the very slim hope that this all is a terrible, terrible nightmare that I'll wake up from in a few minutes was all that kept me going as I entered that room, grabbed my bag and threw everything in it without looking at my- no, that bed. It wasn't ever mine.
So, hoping that the SunnyD police department would turn a blind eye to a couple with broken necks just as it turns a blind eyes to about every corpse who's sucked empty, I spent the night hiding out in an empty mausoleum. And that's where I still am, a week later; in a goddamn mausoleum in the middle of a cemetery. Pretty fucked up place for a slayer to bunk, but at least I won't miss anything important, like new vamps or demons.
I haven't been to work since that. incident, have probably been fired by now anyway, and I try to tell myself that I'm not hiding from him- from my lover. Angel. There's still a large part of me that tries to convince the other, more realistic me-part that Angel was just pretending, that he was making fun or something. that perhaps he was on drugs and didn't know what he was doing- or that it was me who was high and drugged up to the ears and had hallucinations.
Yeah.
The realistic me-part can only laugh weakly at all that crap and point out that the only explanation is that Angel was a raving fruitcake all along and just waiting for the opportunity to let out his demon and play a little. Which sounds logical 'cause he's a vampire after all and isn't killing people the main part of the job description? And Angel told me some stuff, what he did back in the good days and if only half of it was true then I'm lucky he didn't eat me when I was puking my guts out.
So it was all a lie. Everything just a lie, a bit fat one.
Lying on my back on the cold stone floor, I listen to the same CD on my discman for the fifth time without really listening to it. It's better than silence anyway.
"A lie," I whisper.
How can that be? He is, he was Angel- he helped Faith long before I showed up, he told me that he lived on a rat diet for the better part of a century- was that all a lie? But Giles with his experience and Faith with her slayer-sense didn't notice anything; I didn't notice anything. I looked into his eyes and there was a soul there, I swear it.
The next song begins, its hard beat causing me to wince and shut the thing off. I sit up slowly and throw the discman in my bag. It's already night outside and pitch black, just as the night when Angel and I made love. I sigh and push the door open. Night-time means not only patrol now, but also breaking into Sunnydale High after that 'cause although my current place has a nice sarcophagus made of solid stone it lacks a shower. And a mirror.
I'm reminded of Thomas' disapproving tone when he told me that stealing and especially breaking into buildings is wrong and I tell myself that my life's already so screwed up now- I live in a cemetery, for God's sake- that morals kind of have lost their priority. I don't dare to sign in at another motel, in case that SunnyD's policemen don't spend all of their time eating donuts- a trip to jail is at the very bottom of my To-Do-List. As is a trial for murder, even if I'm definitely not guilty.
I make my rounds and silently count the vampires I stake. I don't tease them anymore, don't play with them, just dust them as quickly as possible. Patrol's lost its fun and every kick it once had for me and I half- heartedly curse Angel for spoiling my slaying. I've done three cemeteries so far, and killed ten vampires and that's a very, very bad thing 'cause normally there's perhaps three or four. Someone is a very busy vampire and I don't want to know who it is, although I do- I'm almost certain. That 'almost' is my hope, my hope that it's all an amazing coincidence. yeah, right.
Those vamps could just as well have 'Made by Angel' stamped on their ridged- y foreheads.
I'm nervous when I finish patrol for the night; I've only staked his fledglings so far, but what if I meet Angel? He's just as strong as I am, and if we fight. and I mean, I don't know for sure if it was him who killed all those people, though the couple in my room, he told me he killed them and that's a Teflon-coated reason for staking him.
I'm getting a headache with all this thinking, I swear; it's just so damn complicated. Seems that the only thing I can do is to do my patrols, hide like the coward that I am and hope to never see Angel again.
I cross the empty street quickly and enter the dark school grounds. Breaking into the school is easy; those buildings aren't really made for keeping people out, more like keeping them in. Some nights I even use the unlocked front door- those are the nights when Giles apparently works late. Lucky me.
It's crossed my mind to swallow my over-bloated pride and go to them- the Scooby Gang, for help. I mean, they've known Angel for ages and they've got that whole research vibe going on- I'm pretty sure that they could help.
But every time I've made up my mind I can see Giles standing in his library jabbering about a new phase of training and I hear Faith's voice telling Angel that I'm not good for him and that quenches any desire I might have had to crawl to them begging for help.
No, I can clean up this mess just fine on my own, thank you very much. I'm strong, I'm a slayer and the next time I see Angel I'm gonna ram a stake into his undead heart with a smile on my face.
~~~
The days kind of blend in for me now; one is exactly like the other; sleeping the day away in my cozy crypt, I feel that I fit right in here, in between the dead. Yeah, I'm a moving corpse, just different from the vamps I kill 'cause I got the blood actually running through my veins and not just sort of sloshing around.
At night, I patrol through my share of SunnyD's cemeteries until no newbies are left, then I tend to my personal hygiene for the day and spend some of my rapidly getting tight money on something to eat; no matter what, it all tastes like cardboard anyway. After that, I crawl into my temporary home and the cycle begins a-new.
What a laugh.
I've asked myself why I don't just leave; can't be that difficult, can it? Grab my bag, forget about the customary longing last glance over my shoulder and keep walking until I reach. I don't know what. A new city. A new place with cemeteries and dead people with two little holes in their necks. Sounds great, doesn't it?
But I stay, although I don't know why, as if waiting for something, waiting for fate to lift the veil and reveal the grand destiny that's surely in store for me.
One day follows another. one, two, three, four and the count goes on until the night I meet Faith leaning against the closed gate to Restfield Cemetery.
"Hi," she says as if we've just seen each other yesterday and phoned five times in the meantime.
"Hi sis'," I reply and push the gates open; here I come and may all ye lesser beings bow down before I kick your ass.
I don't say anything else; neither does Faith until the silence becomes too uncomfortable for her and she says with a quick glance at me and my outfit, "You look like shit."
I shrug; don't need her to tell me that, "You don't say."
I sound tired, even to my own ears, I want her to go, I want to be left alone and kill vampires in peace and forget about the one I slept with.
Faith sighs and rakes her fingers through her hair; it's a mess, I notice, and even the make-up can't hide the bags under her eyes. Her looks don't do the "shit" description quite yet, although she's going there fast. Yeah, I imagine that the last weeks have been busy ones for her, too- and she's got school and friends and family on top of slaying.
"Can you guess why I'm here?"
I shrug again, "I could. 'm not in the mood, though and I'm sure you'll tell me," I smile mirthlessly, "You'd hate if this trip was in vain, no?"
"When have you last seen Angel?"
Faith saying that -*his* -name freezes my heart; I can't help it, even if I knew what was coming. I swallow because my mouth's dry like I ate a bucket full of sawdust but it doesn't help.
"What business is it of yours?" I retort harshly and wince at my raspy voice and the funky words. I don't sound like Buffy at all.
Faith grabs my arm, forcing me to stop and glares at me.
"It's my business," she growls, "When Angel's suddenly gone and his apartment's empty, and two persons are found dead in your own room and Jenny's uncle is murdered! It's my business when there's suddenly more vamps than ever in Sunnydale and Willy's so frightened of their new master that he won't speak, even with a broken nose! It's my damn business when the mayor's got a new ally and destroys Sunnydale!" she hisses now, "So don't you dare to play your games with me 'cause I'm running out of patience!"
Huh? I lost her about four sentences back. I open my mouth but close it again- like a fish gasping for breath- and shrug. Seems that's all I do tonight, giving my shoulders a work-out.
"I don't play games with you," I say softly and look everywhere but at Faith's face.
Her anger seems to vanish suddenly because she lets go of my arms and snorts, "Not at all," but she sounds as tired as I do and I'm thinking about how weird this all is. Here we are, both seventeen, not bad-looking and in full possession of our mental facilities and instead of dancing and kissing the night away at the Bronze we're standing between gravestones and argue about dead and undead people. If there's a God he must be laughing his butt off right now.
"Look, sis'," I say, "Care to explain that whole speech in detail?"
Faith nods, "Yes. But you're coming with me to the library first."
"No way, I-"
But she interrupts me with a glare that could fry eggs with its heat and I don't mean in the I-want-to-have-sex-with-you-right-now sense.
"You're coming with me," she repeats and what choice do I have but to follow her to that damn library?
~~~
We walk to the school in silence, Faith and me. She walks fast and ignores me completely and I wonder if I should be insulted and decide then that I don't really care. After all, what have we to talk about? Compare notes and share experiences on how many creepy-crawlies we've killed this week? I don't think so. I could ask her if she's found a new boyfriend yet. Heh.
I can't help but be curious about what happens now. No doubt that everybody'll be there, even Cordelia, though her only job consists of looking alternatively bored and sending out glares saying, "You idiots will all get yourselves killed anyway." Next to Xander, she's my favorite comic relief; that two would make a pair.
But distracting myself with icky thoughts of Faith's ex boy-toy and the resident drama queen making out in a closet doesn't work any longer when Faith opens the door to the library and I see that they're really all there. Even the werewolf, though he's got no purpose I can see either. I wonder if he and the teenage witch have made up.
"Ah, Faith," Giles says, looking relieved, "You've found her, then."
"Obviously," I say and cross my arms, "So, what's the what?"
"We've had Faith search for you because situation that arose concerning Angel."
"Dead Boy's gone psycho," Xander mutters and Faith smacks him on the arm; he glares at her.
Giles continues, ignoring both of them," We wanted to ask you when you've last seen Angel and if he acted normal then."
I raise an eyebrow and do my best not to look overly interested.
"Normal for Angel, that is," clarifies the woman sitting next to the Watch- Man; Jenny's her name, I think, haven't seen her around too often. His lady love, Xander's said. I hastily shove the mental images of *that* relationship in a far and dusty corner of my mind.
"Why's this so important?" I ask and plop down on the last free chair next to Faith.
"Because, as you've surely noticed, Angel has disappeared-"
Xander snorts, "Well, but he did leave us some parting gifts. I, for one, found those just about spiffy."
"What?"
"You don't know?" Willow asks me, her eyes wide. She's one that got the innocent-wide-eyes-little-girl-part down dead.
"Know what?"
"I think we have to start at the beginning," Giles says and takes off his glasses. Despite of the crappy situation I'm in I got to suppress a giggle as he begins to clean them with a handkerchief. Wonder what he'll do when you steal all of those. Use his shirt, perhaps?
He clears his throat, "A few weeks ago, not long after your own disappearance actually, Faith came to check on Angel and found his apartment devoid of any of his belongings. Naturally she was concerned and searched for him; when she came by your room, uh, well."
"They said there'd been a murder in your room," Faith interrupts, "A man and a woman, naked, with their necks broken. That's not normal, not even for our standards."
I lower my head, thinking back to that particular evening, to my panic and terror.
"Anyway," Giles says, "We were concerned. We didn't know where you had disappeared to and although we attempted to find you, the search proved futile. And with Angel gone, too."
"What the G-Man is trying to say is that we all sacrificed our nights to go through Sunnydale with a fine comb, Spaceballs-style. Plus the sewers," Xander shudders.
"Well, and then." Giles trails off, looks at Jenny and swallows. He lays his hand over hers and squeezes softly.
"Jenny's uncle was found dead in his hotel room, slaughtered. That was quite a clear message."
"Why?" I ask, "Why her uncle, of all people? An how do you guys know that this has got something to do with Angel?"
"I'll come to that in a moment. A-after that night, the numbers of newly made vampires have increased drastically, as you've been sure to notice. There's, there's talk in the demon world of a new master, more powerful than any of his predecessors bar the master."
"And my goldfish are dead!" Willow blurts out suddenly. I give her a look that clearly seems to say "You're nuts" in capital neon letters 'cause she says defensively, "Well, they are! And, and it's not normal when you receive your dead pets in an envelope unless one happens to be in some sort of pet-slaughtering sect or something!"
"What a loss," I mutter and roll my eyes.
"What we think is that Angel is indeed this new master," Giles finishes.
I try to laugh but it comes out more like a croak. This all is hitting too close to home, it confirms my suspicions and something ice cold settles into my stomach, "Angel, the new master vampire? But he's one of the white hats, last time I checked."
Faith smiles grimly, "You missed the last memo. Angel has lost his soul."
For a moment there's complete silence and my hearing picks up a car passing on the street next to the school. I lick my lips and begin to play with the hem of my too baggy shirt.
"He's lost his soul?" I say and Giles nods, "But a soul's not a set of keys! You can't just misplace it or something! I mean, it's all glued to your body, immortal and all that crap!"
"Not in Angel's case," Jenny says softly and buries her face in her hands.
"What?" I stare at her.
"You see." Giles looks at his girlfriend? lover?, "You know that Angel was cursed with a soul a hundred years ago?"
"Yeah."
"By gipsy tribe?"
I nod.
"I belong to that tripe," Jenny says, sounding muffled through her hands. She lifts her head and leans it on Giles's shoulder. He seems a bit uncomfortable at this sudden PDA but begins to stroke her back comfortingly. I remember when Angel did this for me, after throwing up, after discovering those bodies and how cool and wonderfully dry his hands felt on my clammy skin. I swallow and shudder. I don't want to think about this.
"I. was sent by my tribe to keep tabs on Angel. To see that he suffered fro what he did to my tribe. You see, to my people. revenge's a living, breathing thing," she sounds as if she recites that from memory, "It's not justice and it's not fair. And Angel suffered for his deeds and the memories haunted him every day. Everyone could see that. So his soul was safe," she tries to laugh but it sounds more like a sob.
I look at Jenny's drawn and pale face, at the rings under her eyes and wonder when she's gotten her last night of good sleep.
"There was a- a clause in the curse. If Angel ever had a moment of true happiness, just moment, and forgot his sins, he'd lose his soul and revert back to his former, evil self- Angelus," her breath hitches and Oz discreetly slips a Kleenex into her hands.
I say nothing. I'm to. it's too much to take in, too much of everything and their faces are serious and pale and they all look so tired and exhausted that there's no chance that this whole scenario is some sick-o joke thought of during a boring history lesson. No, this is the real world.
"And your uncle." I say softly.
"He came to warn her about Angel, said that he was getting too happy, y'know, with you around," Faith explains, "And Angel." she sighs, "I, uh, I came to speak to him about you. Told him that I didn't think you were good enough for him, that sort of thing a concerned mom tells her kid- but I just did it 'cause Jenny told me and I thought if I could keep you two apart, then he'd never be completely happy. And then you were gone and Angel just about went crazy and didn't listen to me anymore and I told him there was someone important he should see and I gave him the address but he forgot.. and then her uncle was dead. Angel had seen him after all. Dammit," she hisses and stands up to pace around.
Perhaps she's feeling like I am, trapped.
"And there's nothing you can do?" I ask in a small voice that doesn't sound like me at all.
Jenny just shakes her head.
Willow pipes up, "There has to be a counter curse. or, more like the original curse and that might help, but it could take months until we find it."
And until then.
"And that means one more crazy vamp at our hands, with the exception that this one's got a brain and is not afraid to use it," Xander says, "You see, I always had that tingly feeling that we should have staked him when we met him."
"Don't say that!" Faith screams at him and everybody flinches, "How dare you say that, Angel was our friend! He saved your sorry ass more times that you can count!"
Embarrassed silence. Eventually Xander mutters, "I think I need some fresh air. clear my head or something," and stands up and leaves.
Cordelia, who hasn't said a word since I entered, looks demonstratively at her watch and gets up, too, "Well, that looks like my cue. I'm so sorry to leave you to your fun," she doesn't sound sorry at all, the stupid bitch, "But some people have got social life. Don't be afraid to call me when you've found a spell to revoke that invitation into my car."
Her high-heeled shoes click on the floor as she leaves.
I look down at my hands, not wanting to see the faces around me. A moment of true happiness. It's my fault, my mind registers sluggishly. The thought slowly bubbles up- It's my fault, my fault, my fault-
I made love to him.
I made love to Angel and fucked up though I am, I can see love when it's there. And I can see happiness. And Angel was happy when he was with me. Completely happy, it seems.
Giles pinches the bridge of his nose.
I slowly stand up. The cold stone that's apparently been dropped into my stomach seems to get bigger and I think back to the hamburger that I've eaten at the Doublemeat Palace this morning. Perhaps there was something wrong with the meat.
"I." I seem to choke and I can't find my usual brass self; but a man's dead and I can't lie and I can't put on a brave front and pretend nothing's happened while I shoot off smart-ass comments.
"Angel found me three days after I skipped town for a while, I'd just returned. He confronted me about it and we fought and made up. We went to my motel room. We made love," I sound like a machine, like something made of metal and screws and little shiny chips, "When I woke up in the morning, he was gone. He came back just as I'd found. and he first comforted me, then teased me."
That's the right word. Teased. Sounds like some small jokes, like. I feel like I can't hold myself up anymore. I feel like I'm falling and crashing to the floor. Help me. Oh please, help me.
"I realized something was wrong. I screamed at him. He went away. I haven't had any contact with him since that night."
The cold's creeping into my whole body now, traveling down my arms and legs and reaching my fingertips and toes at the same time. Giles stands up as if to catch me from falling and I hold out my hands as if to defend myself.
"I'm. sorry."
And with that said, I turn around and flee. I don't stop running until I've reached the rest room and there I take one fleeting look at my ghostly pale face in the mirror before my legs give out under me and I throw up everything I've eaten today.
E-Mail: ikh@haefft.de
Rating: R
Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 13 - Song Without a Name
*If not for her enhanced slayer hearing, Buffy wouldn't have heard the quiet opening of the apartment door. She took off the headphones supplying her with loud heavy metal music and called through the closed door, "Mom? Is that you?"
"Yeah," came the slurred response.
Buffy put on the headphones again, then thought about it and rose from her bed, switching off the discman. She opened the door and was greeted by the heavy stench of alcohol coming from her mother. She crinkled her nose; in this case she regretted her heightened senses.
"Been drinking again?"
"I-," Joyce's legs gave up and she staggered; Buffy caught her in time to prevent her from crashing to the floor.
"That's a yes for me. Come on, let's get you into bed."
Her mother didn't protest and Buffy, feeling patient and gentle for once, undressed her and tucked her into bed. She switched off the light and was just about to leave the room as Joyce's voice held her back.
"Buffy? I'm."
"Yeah?"
She didn't turn around.
"Nothing."
"Good night."*
~~~
I didn't let myself think about it very long; if my screaming had attracted attention, then I'd better get the hell out of dodge before someone saw my room- and the. corpses on the bed that Angel so charmingly left me. Angel, or his psycho doppelganger; the very slim hope that this all is a terrible, terrible nightmare that I'll wake up from in a few minutes was all that kept me going as I entered that room, grabbed my bag and threw everything in it without looking at my- no, that bed. It wasn't ever mine.
So, hoping that the SunnyD police department would turn a blind eye to a couple with broken necks just as it turns a blind eyes to about every corpse who's sucked empty, I spent the night hiding out in an empty mausoleum. And that's where I still am, a week later; in a goddamn mausoleum in the middle of a cemetery. Pretty fucked up place for a slayer to bunk, but at least I won't miss anything important, like new vamps or demons.
I haven't been to work since that. incident, have probably been fired by now anyway, and I try to tell myself that I'm not hiding from him- from my lover. Angel. There's still a large part of me that tries to convince the other, more realistic me-part that Angel was just pretending, that he was making fun or something. that perhaps he was on drugs and didn't know what he was doing- or that it was me who was high and drugged up to the ears and had hallucinations.
Yeah.
The realistic me-part can only laugh weakly at all that crap and point out that the only explanation is that Angel was a raving fruitcake all along and just waiting for the opportunity to let out his demon and play a little. Which sounds logical 'cause he's a vampire after all and isn't killing people the main part of the job description? And Angel told me some stuff, what he did back in the good days and if only half of it was true then I'm lucky he didn't eat me when I was puking my guts out.
So it was all a lie. Everything just a lie, a bit fat one.
Lying on my back on the cold stone floor, I listen to the same CD on my discman for the fifth time without really listening to it. It's better than silence anyway.
"A lie," I whisper.
How can that be? He is, he was Angel- he helped Faith long before I showed up, he told me that he lived on a rat diet for the better part of a century- was that all a lie? But Giles with his experience and Faith with her slayer-sense didn't notice anything; I didn't notice anything. I looked into his eyes and there was a soul there, I swear it.
The next song begins, its hard beat causing me to wince and shut the thing off. I sit up slowly and throw the discman in my bag. It's already night outside and pitch black, just as the night when Angel and I made love. I sigh and push the door open. Night-time means not only patrol now, but also breaking into Sunnydale High after that 'cause although my current place has a nice sarcophagus made of solid stone it lacks a shower. And a mirror.
I'm reminded of Thomas' disapproving tone when he told me that stealing and especially breaking into buildings is wrong and I tell myself that my life's already so screwed up now- I live in a cemetery, for God's sake- that morals kind of have lost their priority. I don't dare to sign in at another motel, in case that SunnyD's policemen don't spend all of their time eating donuts- a trip to jail is at the very bottom of my To-Do-List. As is a trial for murder, even if I'm definitely not guilty.
I make my rounds and silently count the vampires I stake. I don't tease them anymore, don't play with them, just dust them as quickly as possible. Patrol's lost its fun and every kick it once had for me and I half- heartedly curse Angel for spoiling my slaying. I've done three cemeteries so far, and killed ten vampires and that's a very, very bad thing 'cause normally there's perhaps three or four. Someone is a very busy vampire and I don't want to know who it is, although I do- I'm almost certain. That 'almost' is my hope, my hope that it's all an amazing coincidence. yeah, right.
Those vamps could just as well have 'Made by Angel' stamped on their ridged- y foreheads.
I'm nervous when I finish patrol for the night; I've only staked his fledglings so far, but what if I meet Angel? He's just as strong as I am, and if we fight. and I mean, I don't know for sure if it was him who killed all those people, though the couple in my room, he told me he killed them and that's a Teflon-coated reason for staking him.
I'm getting a headache with all this thinking, I swear; it's just so damn complicated. Seems that the only thing I can do is to do my patrols, hide like the coward that I am and hope to never see Angel again.
I cross the empty street quickly and enter the dark school grounds. Breaking into the school is easy; those buildings aren't really made for keeping people out, more like keeping them in. Some nights I even use the unlocked front door- those are the nights when Giles apparently works late. Lucky me.
It's crossed my mind to swallow my over-bloated pride and go to them- the Scooby Gang, for help. I mean, they've known Angel for ages and they've got that whole research vibe going on- I'm pretty sure that they could help.
But every time I've made up my mind I can see Giles standing in his library jabbering about a new phase of training and I hear Faith's voice telling Angel that I'm not good for him and that quenches any desire I might have had to crawl to them begging for help.
No, I can clean up this mess just fine on my own, thank you very much. I'm strong, I'm a slayer and the next time I see Angel I'm gonna ram a stake into his undead heart with a smile on my face.
~~~
The days kind of blend in for me now; one is exactly like the other; sleeping the day away in my cozy crypt, I feel that I fit right in here, in between the dead. Yeah, I'm a moving corpse, just different from the vamps I kill 'cause I got the blood actually running through my veins and not just sort of sloshing around.
At night, I patrol through my share of SunnyD's cemeteries until no newbies are left, then I tend to my personal hygiene for the day and spend some of my rapidly getting tight money on something to eat; no matter what, it all tastes like cardboard anyway. After that, I crawl into my temporary home and the cycle begins a-new.
What a laugh.
I've asked myself why I don't just leave; can't be that difficult, can it? Grab my bag, forget about the customary longing last glance over my shoulder and keep walking until I reach. I don't know what. A new city. A new place with cemeteries and dead people with two little holes in their necks. Sounds great, doesn't it?
But I stay, although I don't know why, as if waiting for something, waiting for fate to lift the veil and reveal the grand destiny that's surely in store for me.
One day follows another. one, two, three, four and the count goes on until the night I meet Faith leaning against the closed gate to Restfield Cemetery.
"Hi," she says as if we've just seen each other yesterday and phoned five times in the meantime.
"Hi sis'," I reply and push the gates open; here I come and may all ye lesser beings bow down before I kick your ass.
I don't say anything else; neither does Faith until the silence becomes too uncomfortable for her and she says with a quick glance at me and my outfit, "You look like shit."
I shrug; don't need her to tell me that, "You don't say."
I sound tired, even to my own ears, I want her to go, I want to be left alone and kill vampires in peace and forget about the one I slept with.
Faith sighs and rakes her fingers through her hair; it's a mess, I notice, and even the make-up can't hide the bags under her eyes. Her looks don't do the "shit" description quite yet, although she's going there fast. Yeah, I imagine that the last weeks have been busy ones for her, too- and she's got school and friends and family on top of slaying.
"Can you guess why I'm here?"
I shrug again, "I could. 'm not in the mood, though and I'm sure you'll tell me," I smile mirthlessly, "You'd hate if this trip was in vain, no?"
"When have you last seen Angel?"
Faith saying that -*his* -name freezes my heart; I can't help it, even if I knew what was coming. I swallow because my mouth's dry like I ate a bucket full of sawdust but it doesn't help.
"What business is it of yours?" I retort harshly and wince at my raspy voice and the funky words. I don't sound like Buffy at all.
Faith grabs my arm, forcing me to stop and glares at me.
"It's my business," she growls, "When Angel's suddenly gone and his apartment's empty, and two persons are found dead in your own room and Jenny's uncle is murdered! It's my business when there's suddenly more vamps than ever in Sunnydale and Willy's so frightened of their new master that he won't speak, even with a broken nose! It's my damn business when the mayor's got a new ally and destroys Sunnydale!" she hisses now, "So don't you dare to play your games with me 'cause I'm running out of patience!"
Huh? I lost her about four sentences back. I open my mouth but close it again- like a fish gasping for breath- and shrug. Seems that's all I do tonight, giving my shoulders a work-out.
"I don't play games with you," I say softly and look everywhere but at Faith's face.
Her anger seems to vanish suddenly because she lets go of my arms and snorts, "Not at all," but she sounds as tired as I do and I'm thinking about how weird this all is. Here we are, both seventeen, not bad-looking and in full possession of our mental facilities and instead of dancing and kissing the night away at the Bronze we're standing between gravestones and argue about dead and undead people. If there's a God he must be laughing his butt off right now.
"Look, sis'," I say, "Care to explain that whole speech in detail?"
Faith nods, "Yes. But you're coming with me to the library first."
"No way, I-"
But she interrupts me with a glare that could fry eggs with its heat and I don't mean in the I-want-to-have-sex-with-you-right-now sense.
"You're coming with me," she repeats and what choice do I have but to follow her to that damn library?
~~~
We walk to the school in silence, Faith and me. She walks fast and ignores me completely and I wonder if I should be insulted and decide then that I don't really care. After all, what have we to talk about? Compare notes and share experiences on how many creepy-crawlies we've killed this week? I don't think so. I could ask her if she's found a new boyfriend yet. Heh.
I can't help but be curious about what happens now. No doubt that everybody'll be there, even Cordelia, though her only job consists of looking alternatively bored and sending out glares saying, "You idiots will all get yourselves killed anyway." Next to Xander, she's my favorite comic relief; that two would make a pair.
But distracting myself with icky thoughts of Faith's ex boy-toy and the resident drama queen making out in a closet doesn't work any longer when Faith opens the door to the library and I see that they're really all there. Even the werewolf, though he's got no purpose I can see either. I wonder if he and the teenage witch have made up.
"Ah, Faith," Giles says, looking relieved, "You've found her, then."
"Obviously," I say and cross my arms, "So, what's the what?"
"We've had Faith search for you because situation that arose concerning Angel."
"Dead Boy's gone psycho," Xander mutters and Faith smacks him on the arm; he glares at her.
Giles continues, ignoring both of them," We wanted to ask you when you've last seen Angel and if he acted normal then."
I raise an eyebrow and do my best not to look overly interested.
"Normal for Angel, that is," clarifies the woman sitting next to the Watch- Man; Jenny's her name, I think, haven't seen her around too often. His lady love, Xander's said. I hastily shove the mental images of *that* relationship in a far and dusty corner of my mind.
"Why's this so important?" I ask and plop down on the last free chair next to Faith.
"Because, as you've surely noticed, Angel has disappeared-"
Xander snorts, "Well, but he did leave us some parting gifts. I, for one, found those just about spiffy."
"What?"
"You don't know?" Willow asks me, her eyes wide. She's one that got the innocent-wide-eyes-little-girl-part down dead.
"Know what?"
"I think we have to start at the beginning," Giles says and takes off his glasses. Despite of the crappy situation I'm in I got to suppress a giggle as he begins to clean them with a handkerchief. Wonder what he'll do when you steal all of those. Use his shirt, perhaps?
He clears his throat, "A few weeks ago, not long after your own disappearance actually, Faith came to check on Angel and found his apartment devoid of any of his belongings. Naturally she was concerned and searched for him; when she came by your room, uh, well."
"They said there'd been a murder in your room," Faith interrupts, "A man and a woman, naked, with their necks broken. That's not normal, not even for our standards."
I lower my head, thinking back to that particular evening, to my panic and terror.
"Anyway," Giles says, "We were concerned. We didn't know where you had disappeared to and although we attempted to find you, the search proved futile. And with Angel gone, too."
"What the G-Man is trying to say is that we all sacrificed our nights to go through Sunnydale with a fine comb, Spaceballs-style. Plus the sewers," Xander shudders.
"Well, and then." Giles trails off, looks at Jenny and swallows. He lays his hand over hers and squeezes softly.
"Jenny's uncle was found dead in his hotel room, slaughtered. That was quite a clear message."
"Why?" I ask, "Why her uncle, of all people? An how do you guys know that this has got something to do with Angel?"
"I'll come to that in a moment. A-after that night, the numbers of newly made vampires have increased drastically, as you've been sure to notice. There's, there's talk in the demon world of a new master, more powerful than any of his predecessors bar the master."
"And my goldfish are dead!" Willow blurts out suddenly. I give her a look that clearly seems to say "You're nuts" in capital neon letters 'cause she says defensively, "Well, they are! And, and it's not normal when you receive your dead pets in an envelope unless one happens to be in some sort of pet-slaughtering sect or something!"
"What a loss," I mutter and roll my eyes.
"What we think is that Angel is indeed this new master," Giles finishes.
I try to laugh but it comes out more like a croak. This all is hitting too close to home, it confirms my suspicions and something ice cold settles into my stomach, "Angel, the new master vampire? But he's one of the white hats, last time I checked."
Faith smiles grimly, "You missed the last memo. Angel has lost his soul."
For a moment there's complete silence and my hearing picks up a car passing on the street next to the school. I lick my lips and begin to play with the hem of my too baggy shirt.
"He's lost his soul?" I say and Giles nods, "But a soul's not a set of keys! You can't just misplace it or something! I mean, it's all glued to your body, immortal and all that crap!"
"Not in Angel's case," Jenny says softly and buries her face in her hands.
"What?" I stare at her.
"You see." Giles looks at his girlfriend? lover?, "You know that Angel was cursed with a soul a hundred years ago?"
"Yeah."
"By gipsy tribe?"
I nod.
"I belong to that tripe," Jenny says, sounding muffled through her hands. She lifts her head and leans it on Giles's shoulder. He seems a bit uncomfortable at this sudden PDA but begins to stroke her back comfortingly. I remember when Angel did this for me, after throwing up, after discovering those bodies and how cool and wonderfully dry his hands felt on my clammy skin. I swallow and shudder. I don't want to think about this.
"I. was sent by my tribe to keep tabs on Angel. To see that he suffered fro what he did to my tribe. You see, to my people. revenge's a living, breathing thing," she sounds as if she recites that from memory, "It's not justice and it's not fair. And Angel suffered for his deeds and the memories haunted him every day. Everyone could see that. So his soul was safe," she tries to laugh but it sounds more like a sob.
I look at Jenny's drawn and pale face, at the rings under her eyes and wonder when she's gotten her last night of good sleep.
"There was a- a clause in the curse. If Angel ever had a moment of true happiness, just moment, and forgot his sins, he'd lose his soul and revert back to his former, evil self- Angelus," her breath hitches and Oz discreetly slips a Kleenex into her hands.
I say nothing. I'm to. it's too much to take in, too much of everything and their faces are serious and pale and they all look so tired and exhausted that there's no chance that this whole scenario is some sick-o joke thought of during a boring history lesson. No, this is the real world.
"And your uncle." I say softly.
"He came to warn her about Angel, said that he was getting too happy, y'know, with you around," Faith explains, "And Angel." she sighs, "I, uh, I came to speak to him about you. Told him that I didn't think you were good enough for him, that sort of thing a concerned mom tells her kid- but I just did it 'cause Jenny told me and I thought if I could keep you two apart, then he'd never be completely happy. And then you were gone and Angel just about went crazy and didn't listen to me anymore and I told him there was someone important he should see and I gave him the address but he forgot.. and then her uncle was dead. Angel had seen him after all. Dammit," she hisses and stands up to pace around.
Perhaps she's feeling like I am, trapped.
"And there's nothing you can do?" I ask in a small voice that doesn't sound like me at all.
Jenny just shakes her head.
Willow pipes up, "There has to be a counter curse. or, more like the original curse and that might help, but it could take months until we find it."
And until then.
"And that means one more crazy vamp at our hands, with the exception that this one's got a brain and is not afraid to use it," Xander says, "You see, I always had that tingly feeling that we should have staked him when we met him."
"Don't say that!" Faith screams at him and everybody flinches, "How dare you say that, Angel was our friend! He saved your sorry ass more times that you can count!"
Embarrassed silence. Eventually Xander mutters, "I think I need some fresh air. clear my head or something," and stands up and leaves.
Cordelia, who hasn't said a word since I entered, looks demonstratively at her watch and gets up, too, "Well, that looks like my cue. I'm so sorry to leave you to your fun," she doesn't sound sorry at all, the stupid bitch, "But some people have got social life. Don't be afraid to call me when you've found a spell to revoke that invitation into my car."
Her high-heeled shoes click on the floor as she leaves.
I look down at my hands, not wanting to see the faces around me. A moment of true happiness. It's my fault, my mind registers sluggishly. The thought slowly bubbles up- It's my fault, my fault, my fault-
I made love to him.
I made love to Angel and fucked up though I am, I can see love when it's there. And I can see happiness. And Angel was happy when he was with me. Completely happy, it seems.
Giles pinches the bridge of his nose.
I slowly stand up. The cold stone that's apparently been dropped into my stomach seems to get bigger and I think back to the hamburger that I've eaten at the Doublemeat Palace this morning. Perhaps there was something wrong with the meat.
"I." I seem to choke and I can't find my usual brass self; but a man's dead and I can't lie and I can't put on a brave front and pretend nothing's happened while I shoot off smart-ass comments.
"Angel found me three days after I skipped town for a while, I'd just returned. He confronted me about it and we fought and made up. We went to my motel room. We made love," I sound like a machine, like something made of metal and screws and little shiny chips, "When I woke up in the morning, he was gone. He came back just as I'd found. and he first comforted me, then teased me."
That's the right word. Teased. Sounds like some small jokes, like. I feel like I can't hold myself up anymore. I feel like I'm falling and crashing to the floor. Help me. Oh please, help me.
"I realized something was wrong. I screamed at him. He went away. I haven't had any contact with him since that night."
The cold's creeping into my whole body now, traveling down my arms and legs and reaching my fingertips and toes at the same time. Giles stands up as if to catch me from falling and I hold out my hands as if to defend myself.
"I'm. sorry."
And with that said, I turn around and flee. I don't stop running until I've reached the rest room and there I take one fleeting look at my ghostly pale face in the mirror before my legs give out under me and I throw up everything I've eaten today.