Disclaimer: I own only the obvious, The rest belongs to who ever owns the TV-show Buffy The Vampire Slayer, or other shows that might be mentioned.

Authors Note: Well, What can I say. You'll need a large towel instead of a handkerchief for this one.

ON WITH THE SHOW!!!!!!!!

August 5. 2014. Location: New York.

The Summers Residence

14.30 p.m.

The room was stripped, everything that remotely could be seen as a potential weapon was removed to the extent that it resembled a prison cell. Even the bed was replaced with a single mattress. Thick dark curtains hid the window, as if the inhabitant of the room was trying to keep the world out. Keep it away at a safe distance. And that was exactly what she had done. Not because she was afraid of the world outside. No, it was because she was afraid for the world outside.

She sat in a corner, knees drawn up against her chest, slowly rocking back and forth. Her bloodshot brown eyes were staring blindly into the wall, a faint shimmer of yellow showing the extent of her souls turmoil. Enya Thompson, the Slayer that had been turned into the horrible demon calling herself Death.

Now she didn't know who or what she was. Her soul was back, tormenting her to the point that all that she wished for was to die. But she wasn't dead. Not anymore. And she wouldn't be for a long time because of that cursed Invulnerability. She had tried. By God she had tried!!! But nothing worked. That was, if she even got the chance to try.

Why couldn't they just let her alone? Why did they always stop her? Why couldn't they wake up to reality and smell the coffee? She deserved to die. She should die. How many people had she killed, or tortured, or maimed?

Fresh tears from a bottomless supply ran down her face, clear human tears. But she wasn't human. She wasn't the Slayer, and she wasn't a vampire. She was just a monster, an aberration, and an anomaly that should be eradicated. It was in the world's best interest that she was dead and gone. But Buffy and Xander wouldn't let her end it. They stubbornly denied her the only way to ever give her peace, constantly trying to get her to embrace life again.

They wouldn't if they knew about her nightmares. Horrifying dreams where she slaughtered them in every possible way. They wouldn't if they knew her feelings of joy when she woke up from those dreams. Sure the joy was soon replaced with a night black conscience, but it didn't matter. She was evil to the core.

Her captors as she called them, that was a different case. Ms Summers. Enya was actually a bit scared of her. Not that she for a second feared that Buffy would ever do her harm. No, she was far too good a person to do that. But still. She clearly remembered Deaths fight with The Invulnerable, and later when Buffy stopped her from slicing her own wrists.

The amount of power she held was down right terrifying. She felt it that time when Death was beaten to a bloody pulp. Buffy was in an entirely different league. Enya doubted even Buffy knew the limits of her own power. And still, if Enya shifted to her second sight, she could see a blinding white aura surrounding her.

Not that she was a saint. Far from it, she was just like other people, she could be arrogant and selfish, even mean. But her power came from the Light. Of course much of it came from being a Slayervampire like Enya. But Enya suspected most of her power came directly from the source of the Slayer powers, what ever that was.

People said that power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Not so with Buffy. How she had managed to remain the kind woman she was, went beyond Enya's comprehension. Her soul had to be extremely strong.

A sob broke its way from Enya's throat. God, how she wished she had some of that strength. But no, every day she felt her demon claw at its prison walls inside her mind. She lived in constant fear of it coming back.

And then there were Xander. A weak smile crossed her face for a fraction of a second. Under other circumstances she would probably make a move on him. He was very good looking, had tons of charm and he was a very kind person. And that wonderfully crazy humour of his, well, it gave even her dark days a small glint of light

He was just the kind of person a girl could fall in love with. No, woman. She wasn't a teenager anymore, she remembered. But of course, as every gorgeous male, he was taken. He and Buffy were seriously a couple now. And even Enya noticed how love struck they were, in the midst of all the misery she caused. But as it was, she felt no jealousy. Just a budding friendship with Xander…and Buffy she had to admit to herself. They were really doing everything in their power to help her, something that made her feel really guilty. 

It was obvious that he and Buffy belonged together. Time was probably the one thing Enya had more than enough of. And she had started to notice their interactions. It seemed that both of them drew strength from the other to keep going on. And sometimes they seemed to communicate almost telepathically, so in tune with each other's thinking were they.

What Enya felt, was envy. She wished she had had the opportunity to meet her own soul mate. But no, it was best if she died. She deserved to die. She should die, she reminded herself. She was evil and should die. But maybe…. No! She had to die. Any further pondering was stopped as her stomach uttered an angry protest. She looked at her watch and was almost shocked to see that it was about dinnertime. Well, she'd better go down, or else they would come up and get her, she thought as she stood up and left her room for the first time since breakfast.

****

As she came down, she saw that Buffy was back. "So how was your trip," she asked. Buffy looked up with a happy smile on her face. "It was nice. We talked and did homely stuff around the house, and Ashley and me had a trip to the neighbourhood basket court. Kid really has a lot of talent. I had to dip into my Slayer powers to keep up with him."

Buffy's face grew serious. "After dark, I took a trip to Willy's bar. It's about time the demon society know, that both The Invulnerable and Death has shifted sides, and that its open season on evil bastards. Besides, I had to thank him for something he did while I was bad. It's bloody incredible. Here my friends and me used to come in at least once a week and mess up his business. And quite often both Angel and I beat him up for information. Heck, even Xander did that.

And still, when I turned bad, he went and hired a couple of assassins from The Order of Lin Kuei to protect my friends from the Taraka'ns that I sent after them. And those Lin Kuei guys are not cheap. If it wasn't for him, all I would have had to come back to was cold graves.

After talking with Willy, I went on a patrol, before I finally went to bed. This morning we had a nice breakfast before I started back here. By the way, Ashley gave me this to give to you." Buffy handed her a card.

Hi there, Enya

Hope you are feeling better. Remember the different entity thingy. It ain`t just something we say, it is the truth. What Death did, you have no guilt in. If you want to get away from my bossy sister, and the Xander geek, and talk to someone a little less dominant and totally normal LOL, you know where to find me. I know I can't do anything to change the past, and I can't possibly understand the horrors you go through. But know this: You can count on me as a friend. And I am a darned god listener. Ever read the book MOMO by Michael Ende? I'm ready to be your MOMO anytime you want. Well apart from me being a boy instead of a girl you know. I'm perfectly happy as I am. You know, sometimes I hate my parents (almost) for giving me a name that by most people are considered a girls name. You wont believe how many jokes I have had to endure at school. I hereby charge you with the task of finding me a suitable call name. Preferably something cool. And when you feel a little better, you have to come over so that we can play a bit Basketball. I have already played against one Slayervampire, and I almost beat her. She probably told you that she had to delve a little into her Slayer powers to keep up with me. Bha, try full Slayer mode, and then some. She probably doesn't know, but her eyes were bright yellow. So here is my challenge. I'm throwing down the glove. Drag your sorry ass out of the abyss of self-pity and start training, or else it would just be too easy. Hehehehehe (evil laughter)

Your friend

Ashley Giles

(Aghhh, I hate my first name!!!)     

Enya was quiet for a while. Then she looked up from the card with teary eyes. "Do you know what a treasure you have in that brother of yours?" Buffy nodded. "That letter is quite possibly the nicest thing anybody has done to me. And it hurts that I wont be able to take him up on his challenge."

"Why not?" Buffy asked.

"Because I don't want to hurt him."

"What makes you think you will hurt him?"

Enya shook her head. "I'm not like you Buffy. There isn't an hour in the day that I don't feel my demon claw at its prison walls, not to mention those awful nightmares I have every night, where I torture and kill all of you. And when I wake up, I feel the joy, the joy of killing and maiming. I have tried to get you to understand it for months now. I am evil and should be killed. You don't know how much I wish that I had your mental strength, and didn't feel the demon inside my head. But no, I feel it all the time."

Buffy looked at her with a strange glint in her eyes. She paled and Enya could actually feel how upset she became. "Is that what has plagued you lately Enya?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "Do you think I don't have nightmares? Do you thing I don't feel my demon?" A tear slipped down her cheek. "I wish you were right, but no. I too have nightmares. Sometimes I wake up next to Xander, and feel the joy of killing him in my dreams. For a split second I relish the feeling from the dream. But the moment I am fully awake, I feel awful for it. You see, I figured this out years ago. What you feel isn't your own feelings; it is the demon's. It's her only way to vent her anger, to plague you in your dreams, to try and break you. The nights are a never-ending battle between your soul and the demon. But don't worry. Your soul has help.

Remember the Slayer Spirit. You just try and relax a bit, and let it help you in the night, as it always does. It's like a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you constantly live in fear of the demon taking over, the fear itself will wear you out. Break you. And then it will be easier for the demon to come back. Just have a little more belief in your souls strength and the Slayer Spirit. The less fear you live in, the easier it is to hold the demon at bay. And the dreams will become fewer and further between.

I have one maybe once a month now. But I too had them every night in the first year. They didn't subside before I stopped letting my fear rule me. You say you feel your demon claw at its prison walls all day, but do you ever feel like you have to force it back? Think about it for a while. Do you feel like it is about to break free, or do you just fear that it will break free?" Buffy looked at Enya as surprise ran over her face.

"I thought so. You feel your demon, and desperately try to fight it back, to make it disappear, though it wouldn't have broken free even if you didn't do anything. I'll let you inn on a little thing. The only times when the barrier that holds the demon is weakened, is when you feel extreme hate, rage, pain or fear. So you have unknowingly weakened your own defence. And when I needed The Invulnerable to fight Death, I actually had to fight to let down the barrier.

And so it will be with you too. Just try and relax. The barrier won't disappear. Try to enjoy life again. You know you deserve it." Enya looked doubtful to that, and were about to answer, when Xander came in from the kitchen, clad in a waiter's outfit, and a white apron over his arm and a silly French hat on his head. With a horrible French accent he then informed them that:

"The diner is served Mesdames. Tonight the house is proud to offer you an excellent Biff ala Harris, with crispy salad and cheese gratinated potatoes. Served with a nice vintage of Sprite. For the desert, chef Harris is happy to offer the house speciality. Homemade lemon mousse with whipped cream. Would Mesdames please follow me to your seats?"

With a totally idiotic extravaganza he hooked his arms under Buffy and Enya's, leading them towards the kitchen. Enya couldn't help herself. For the first time since she came back, she threw back her head and surrendered to a major fit of laughter. And as she sat down by the kitchen table she didn't see Xander and Buffy's happy grins as they high fived behind her back.  

August 6. 2014. Location: The Councils Tower

Outside the City of Swansea, Wales

15.30.p.m.

"Christopher Giles, have you completely taken leave of the senses that God gave you!!!" "Oh God! Not again," Christopher mumbled as he saw Quentin Travers coming down the corridor with a determent face. Quentin was possibly the biggest pain in the ass, in the entire United Kingdom. The man was a fanatic of the old school. He kept complaining about the recent changes of The Council. And now it was time for another lecture. Quickly he led Travers into his office, and closed the door. "What is it this time Quentin?" "What is this rubbish about us fighting beside The Slayer? When I came to work today, that little twit Wyndham Price was waiting for me, rudely telling me to get my sorry ass down to the training room. He then proceeded to tell me that all Watchers are to be trained in combat, before he forced me through a gruelling two hours training session. Who is he to tell me to train? I am a Watcher, not a Slayer. Watchers aren't meant to fight. We are researchers, instructors and leaders of The Slayer. But we do not fight. It is against common sense. We don't have heightened powers. It never was meant for us to fight the powers of Darkness. We are above such low work. That's what we have The Slayer for. She is our tool in the fight against the Darkness that seeks to destroy mankind. You are undermining our control over The Slayer, our own superiority. Look at what happened to the Slayer Faith, that's what'll happen if we loose control over the Slayer. What bloody drug did you take, to make you let the Slayer have a say in anything. How many times do I have to say it? The Slayer is not to have a social life! It interferes with her duty. And to let her decide anything for her self is just giving her disillusions of grandeur. It makes her believe that she has something to say, that she can question her Watcher's orders. For Gods sake Christopher!!! The Slayer is nothing but a tool that we the Watchers are meant to rule! You are talking about The Slayer as if she is a human being, when she isn't. Not really. She is a weapon created for the single purpose of fighting The Darkness. The Slayer was never meant to think, she was just to follow orders. Our orders. And now you have her thinking that she can question our authority!!! You are destroying The Council, that's what you are doing! I never understood why they chose you as our leader. You are too soft and naïve. Because of you, the Council is loosing their power. If we don't rule The Slayer, pray tell, why are we here?" Christopher raised and towered over the little bastard. With a major effort he stopped himself from beating Quentin into something resembling minced meat. "Do you really want to know why we are here? Why The Council was created in the beginning? The Council was never meant to rule over The Slayer. We were meant as a support base for The Slayer. Our cause is to try and make The Slayer's life as easy as we can. We help her with research. We help her with equipment for her fight. If necessary we help her in the fight. We help her keep her friends and family safe, and if they decide to help her in her duty, we make sure they are equipped and trained for it. Shortly we do everything in our power to make sure The Slayers life is as easy and good as we can make it. That is the real purpose of The Council. And I'll tell you one more thing. You better start learning some humility; cause The Slayer is laying her life on the line for you and every person in the world. Every night she goes out in the Darkness, fighting so that the rest of the world don't have to worry about what goes bump in the night. Every night she goes out there, not knowing if this will be the night that she doesn't come home, that she will die. And what does she ask in return? Not much I am telling you. She doesn't expect a six-digit payroll. She doesn't ask for a fancy car or any other fringe benefits, although she would have deserved it. No, she goes out there risking her life every night, out of a selfless need to protect humanity. And In return she just want to be treated like the human being that she is." "That's where you are wrong" Quentin said. "The Slayer is not human." SCHMACK! Christopher's fist connected solidly with Quentin's jaw, making him stumble backwards and crying out in pain. "Now listen her you little weasel. MY TWIN SISTER WAS THE SLAYER. THE SLAYER IS EVERY BIT AS HUMAN AS YOU. Are you really this stupid? I thought every Watcher knew how a person becomes a Slayer. And certainly a former Council leader would know. At least I thought so."  "Yes I do know. When a girl becomes the Slayer, a benevolent demon possesses her." "I knew it," Christopher growled out. "You ARE a stupid asshole! God, I am glad that you quit the High Council! If you had ever paid attention at Watcher Academy, you would have learned something different.  She is the Chosen One. Not chosen by some demon, but by The Powers That Be. She is their greatest warrior, magically given the strength, skills and endurance to fight the Powers of Darkness. They don't put a demon into her, they just enhances her to the highest level possible for a human body. Am I getting through to you, or are you so daft that you can't understand the most basic of Slayer knowledge?" Quentin staggered as if Christopher had hit him again. Slowly he sat down in a chair. "My God! Are you telling me that The Slayer is a human being with ordinary feelings, needs and insecurities?"  "Give the man a cigar," Christopher muttered. "That's exactly what I am telling you. When you treated Buffy so badly, when you forced her to go through the Crusiamentum, you did that to a human being, that when fighting the undead, was used to the benefit of superpowers. Do you have any idea of the fear and helplessness she felt when facing that insane vampire? One day she could punch her fist through a concrete wall or tip a minivan over. And the next day, apparently for no reason, she couldn't lift half her weight. If it was any other Slayer she would have died when you and your bloody team lost control over the Vampire. Let me share with you a little thing I found out. Of the last ten Slayers to go through Crusiamentum, only one survived. These girls all had grown accustomed to the Slayer powers. And when they suddenly lost them, they didn't know how to fight anymore. If they had known why their powers were gone, they might have had a chance. But fighting a vampire when having a panic attack is nearly impossible. You can prise yourself lucky, that Buffy is one of the most creative thinkers in the history of Slayers. She never relayed solely on her powers. She has that rare capability of fighting and thinking at the same time. But even she just barely survived." "Oh God, oh God, oh God," Quentin whispered. Pale as a ghost he stood to his feet and stumbled out the door. Leaving Christopher mildly shocked that he actually had gotten through to the elder Watcher. Maybe there was hope for him after all.  With his head in complete chaos Quentin headed for the Chronicle Room, frantically pulling out chronicles of past Slayers, going back to the middle age. As he read he felt the beliefs that he had lived by for thirty years, crumble and fell. Leaving him with a night black conscience. What had he done in his ignorance? He had started in the Watchers not only because of family traditions, but also because of a need to do something to keep the world safe from The Darkness. And now he realised that all his adult life he had done the exact opposite. As he worked his way from the middle ages and up to present time, he saw the pattern. He saw how gradually his kind of thinking had gotten a foothold in the Council. He saw how The Slayer was treated more and more like a tool to be used and thrown away, instead of the human being she was. He saw how the life span of the Slayers got shorter and shorter. He even saw how Slayers that had protested against the inhuman treatment had been eliminated. And he cried, he cried for the first time in years. With foggy vision he went over to the computer and pulled up the file that consisted of the journal of the very first Slayer thousands of years ago. He read the first part of the translation it had taken 10 Shamballa masters 20 years to make. I am Alika. I am the chosen warrior for The Powers That Be. I am The Vampire Slayer, the one Girl in the entire world chosen to fight the forces of Darkness, which Arracastra released onto the world. That is my destiny. A destiny Alexandru is helping me adjust to. The training regime he has set up for me could be considered inhumanly brutal, but I always see it in his eyes. I see that he cares, that he does this in the hope that it will keep me longer alive. And when the pain and sorrow gets too much, and I cry out in utter desolation, he is there. Supporting me and comforting me like the surrogate big brother he has become to me. Only rarely he lets me see the depth of his own pain. He tries to hide it away, to act normal. But he really is just a walking talking shadow of a man. We both lost our friends and family in the disaster, but he also lost his soul mate, Elowynn. And I know if it weren't for his promise to her, to look after me, he would have taken his life. Instead he is helping me in my duty. Attacking the vampires and demons with the ferocity of a crazed animal. The Vampire society is calling him The Crazed One. I suspect that every foe he fights, he pictures being Arracastra, the source of both our losses.  So we fight, knowing that every night could be our last. But we do not live; we merely exist, feeding our dying soul with the ever-fading memory of our homeland, that doesn't exist anymore. So much sacrifice, and yet it is worth it to see the gratitude from people we save. Death is a friend, and I will welcome it wholeheartedly. But until then, I will keep on fighting to save the lives of innocents. People that still have a chance at happiness.                   

Quentin dried his tears, and stood up. Surprised he noticed that the clock was six thirty in the evening. He had been there for three hours. A tired smile ran over his face. Finally, at long last, in the autumn of his life, he was ready to be a real Watcher. Enya had yet to find another Watcher. He would gladly take the job. But he knew that she needed someone a lot younger than him, someone that actually could help her in training and when fighting. And he knew the perfect person for it. It would be good for him too. Maybe it would help him heal old wounds. Yes, he would contact him, and convince him if it was the last thing he did. The decision made, Quentin Travers rushed out of the building, finally feeling like he really did something worthwhile.

To Be Continued