Chapter One: Blood of Me
~*~
i still have visions of you
i still have nights to get through
and when the trust isn't true
i have these visions of you
"I used to pray for you, you know." The sound of her voice pulled Angel from sleep abruptly, and he sat bolt upright, the bed sheets pooling around his hips. "When the sun set, I would sit on my window sill... your window sill... and pray for you. It didn't even have to be then. Sometimes, I would just be walking down the road, and a breeze would blow from the general direction of here, and I'd pray. That you were safe, and happy -- well, content at least, and making amends like you wanted."
Angel could only sit there, his brain still foggy from sleep, and stare at her open-mouthed. She was here. In LA. In his bedroom, of all places, talking to him about how she prayed for him. Well, used to...
"Used to pray for me?" She smiled slightly, flicking her hair over her shoulder.
"I've stopped lately. There doesn't seem much point. You don't need me to pray for you anymore, do you Angel? You can pray for yourself, now you're complete. Fully souled and all. Your family must be so proud." The last sentence was spat out at him, and he physically curled away from her words. It amazed him how much this woman could wound him, even now, when time should've loosened her hold on him.
"I've felt almost everything that goes on around you since you left, did you know that? I've felt when you were happy, sad, in pain, tired, hungry... I know about the relationships you have, the arrivals and departures. Do you think you can trust her? Do you even recognise her? She'll be important to you; important to us all." Angel looked at her in surprise, his mouth failing all orders to form a response. The subject changes in themselves he was used to, but the actual subjects... he was beyond speechless.
"The prophecy says something big is coming. In six months. Six. Months. I don't wanna die, Angel." Her last sentence was almost sobbed out, and her knees gave out. Angel flung himself towards her, mindless of his naked state in the face of her anguish. He caught her before she hit the floor, and sank with her.
"No," he said firmly, game face to the fore at the mere thought of his mate's death. "You're not going to die, love, or at least not soon. And when you do, you'll be old and warm in bed, surrounded by sticky faced grandchildren who call you 'Nanna Buffy'." She simply smiled at him, running her hand across his ridged face.
"You're a vampire," she said sadly. "You can't give me children." His heart broke at the soft finality in her tone. It told him, leaving no room for argument, that if he couldn't give her children then she wouldn't have any.
"I can't lose you Buffy, I'm not ready to. Not now, not tomorrow, not six months from now... never." He released a loud sob at that, and Buffy's arms came up to comfort him.
"Shh, baby. Shh. You're immortal. Your perception of time is different to ours. You want to know the value of six months? Ask a woman who's lost her baby." He looked at her, clearly confused.
"Ask Lauren," she whispered, and Angel's eyes swirled with a mixture of reactions. Questions flowed through his mind, but before he could ask any, Buffy caught his face between both hands and locked her gaze on his.
Before his eyes her hazel ones clouded over, almost like a layer of smog had settled upon them. When she spoke, her voice was deep and rough, a sound unlike any he had ever heard come from her.
"Make sure you break the skin, when you put the blood between us." And with that, her face contorted into the visage of a vampire, and Buffy lunged at his throat, her fangs sliding in easily.
Once again, Angel sat bolt upright in bed, this time truly awake.
And miles away, in a different city, the Slayer awoke with a gasp.
~*~
and when you got me pregnant i stopped the party and
i stopped the typewriter and
i stopped your dumb ball game in the red barn and
i stopped your father and bled instead
"Oh, have I ever told you how much I adore your hands?"
"Maybe once or twice."
"Love your hands. Magic hands."
"I wouldn' need magic hands if ye weren't so tense. Wha's wrong luv?"
"Oh, I've just not been sleeping so well, and... oh, right there... the baby likes to hold soccer matches inside me... ooohhhh... even in the middle of classes... once again, love your hands." Alex smiled from his position behind his wife, gently massaging her back as she told him about her day.
"Plus, I'm worried. I mean, the end of the year's coming up, and there's exams and I won't be there for my students a lot of the time. Not to mention the Mayor's funky end of the world stuff, and with me like this I can't do anything to help."
"Ye need t' relax. All yer worrying isn't good fer the baby. Buffy's gotten this far, hasn't she? And she has us t' help."
"I know, trust me. Logically, I know that. But those kids are like my... younger siblings -- one of them is my younger sibling -- and I feel all fat and pregnant and totally helpless. God knows Buffy needs all the help she can get."
"An' what about tha Angel o' hers?"
"I'm not sure. I have a feeling that he may be the reason for some of her troubles... Oh, I'm just about to rip my hair out!"
"Don' do tha! I luv yer hair!" Lauren turned over and glared at him and he shrugged, smiling shyly in the face of her reproachful stare. Finally, she closed her eyes and snuggled against him as much as her belly would allow, burying her nose in his bare chest.
"I love this. Just being able to talk at night."
"I luv ye, Laurs. I luv ye, Brighid and the baby we've made inside ye. Ye three are m' family." Alex's hands threaded through her hair at that, combing through the long, silky strands. Lauren sighed, settling herself even more. If she could pick one place to spend the rest of her life, this was where she'd choose. She loved this man more than anything in the entire world, preternatural quirks and all.
"Laurs?" His voice was different, and Lauren looked up at him, her forehead creased in a slight frown. But when she met his gaze, she found herself not looking at the clear blue, love-filled gaze of her husband, but at the hatred-filled, stormy chocolate gaze of the woman that had betrayed her. The fingers in her hair twisted, pulling the strands taught as she yanked Lauren's head up so that it was level with her own.
"Make sure you break the skin, when you put the blood between us." Blood red lips twisted into a smirk at that, and Lauren felt something burst inside her before blood gushed down, between her thighs.
She woke screaming, her hands clasped around her flat stomach, and another woman and man awoke in kind, all three of them separated by more than just distance, and connected by more than a dream.
~*~
i'm talking to strangers
to see what i feel
your face is changing now
and nothing seems real
"I'm having strange dreams again. Strange, recurring dreams."
"Really? What kind of dreams?"
"Angel-type dreams. It's a different scene every time, but we always talk about the exact same things, and I always do the same thing at the end."
"And what is that?"
"I growl at him. 'Make sure you break the skin, when you put the blood between us.' Whatever that means. And then -- then I v-vamp out and drink him."
--
"Ahh. I see."
"No, Wes. I really don't think you do. She turns into a vampire. Fangs, yellow eyes, ridges. Everything."
"Yes, I understand that."
"Do you? I mean, really? Because I sure as hell don't! She's... she's the Slayer. A vampire is the last thing she should ever have to be. Ever."
"Well. what else happens? You said you always talk about the exact same things. What, exactly?"
"How connected we really are. How she knows that we've had a new arrival - Lauren. And how she can help us, with the prophecy, I presume. That's something else she talks about. An Apocalypse, in four months. She's scared she might die, and... she almost breaks down. And then she... always says something that I can never make any sense of."
"Oh? And what is that?"
--
"'You want to know the value of six months? All you have to do is ask a mother who's miscarried a child.' And then I add 'Ask Lauren.' I mean... the only Lauren I -- we've ever met must be long dead by now."
"We don't know she died for sure. She just... disappeared. Like the rest of her family."
"Yeh. Oz is still hoping for a call, I think. Which is totally unrelated... Giles... this prophecy. What's it about? Another Apocalypse? I don't wanna die again... I'm not ready too... I don't want to..."
"It's just a dream Buffy. It isn't necessarily a prediction of the future. Often your dreams have more... abstract meanings than literal ones."
"Oh, so I'll suck him dry abstractly and not literally. I feel so much better now that I know that. Not."
"Well, have you considered talking to him? Calling him?"
"Umm... maybe you're right. It could be nothing. I should just, y'know, wait it out. It'll probably stop. Like, anytime soon. It'll definitely stop."
--
"Yes, that may very well be the case, but what if the dreams stop because she's died, or because the world's ending? It'll be a little late then, don't you think?"
"My mate will. Not. Die. Do you understand?"
"Uh, yes, of course."
"Good."
"Umm... is there no way for you to... change back?"
"No. I'm afraid that the entirely theoretical subject of my mate's death provokes strong emotions. When that happens, my human face tends to take a back seat for a little while."
"Of course. Well... what are we going to do?"
"I don't know Wes. I don't know."
~*~
and am i looking up at the angels
or am i really looking up at the clouds floating by?
and when i say i'm listening
why is it i only hear you when you cry?
"This is another dream, isn't it?"
"Yes and no."
"Yes and no? You can't have both, mo gra. Gotta pick one."
"Well, it's a dream. But it's not the same one you've been havin' lately. They're memories -- which I know ye know anyway -- and warnin's. This is just... a gift. From a good friend."
"Alex?"
"Yes, love?"
"I miss you."
"I miss ye too, Ionuin."
"Will I ever see you again?"
"Yer seein' me now, aren' ye?"
"You know what I mean. Will I ever see you or Brighid again? Truly see you?"
"Only time can tell, m' love, only time can tell."
"I love you baby. Forever."
"An' I love ye too. Always."
~*~
i still have visions of you
i still have nights to get through
and when the trust isn't true
i have these visions of you
"I used to pray for you, you know." The sound of her voice pulled Angel from sleep abruptly, and he sat bolt upright, the bed sheets pooling around his hips. "When the sun set, I would sit on my window sill... your window sill... and pray for you. It didn't even have to be then. Sometimes, I would just be walking down the road, and a breeze would blow from the general direction of here, and I'd pray. That you were safe, and happy -- well, content at least, and making amends like you wanted."
Angel could only sit there, his brain still foggy from sleep, and stare at her open-mouthed. She was here. In LA. In his bedroom, of all places, talking to him about how she prayed for him. Well, used to...
"Used to pray for me?" She smiled slightly, flicking her hair over her shoulder.
"I've stopped lately. There doesn't seem much point. You don't need me to pray for you anymore, do you Angel? You can pray for yourself, now you're complete. Fully souled and all. Your family must be so proud." The last sentence was spat out at him, and he physically curled away from her words. It amazed him how much this woman could wound him, even now, when time should've loosened her hold on him.
"I've felt almost everything that goes on around you since you left, did you know that? I've felt when you were happy, sad, in pain, tired, hungry... I know about the relationships you have, the arrivals and departures. Do you think you can trust her? Do you even recognise her? She'll be important to you; important to us all." Angel looked at her in surprise, his mouth failing all orders to form a response. The subject changes in themselves he was used to, but the actual subjects... he was beyond speechless.
"The prophecy says something big is coming. In six months. Six. Months. I don't wanna die, Angel." Her last sentence was almost sobbed out, and her knees gave out. Angel flung himself towards her, mindless of his naked state in the face of her anguish. He caught her before she hit the floor, and sank with her.
"No," he said firmly, game face to the fore at the mere thought of his mate's death. "You're not going to die, love, or at least not soon. And when you do, you'll be old and warm in bed, surrounded by sticky faced grandchildren who call you 'Nanna Buffy'." She simply smiled at him, running her hand across his ridged face.
"You're a vampire," she said sadly. "You can't give me children." His heart broke at the soft finality in her tone. It told him, leaving no room for argument, that if he couldn't give her children then she wouldn't have any.
"I can't lose you Buffy, I'm not ready to. Not now, not tomorrow, not six months from now... never." He released a loud sob at that, and Buffy's arms came up to comfort him.
"Shh, baby. Shh. You're immortal. Your perception of time is different to ours. You want to know the value of six months? Ask a woman who's lost her baby." He looked at her, clearly confused.
"Ask Lauren," she whispered, and Angel's eyes swirled with a mixture of reactions. Questions flowed through his mind, but before he could ask any, Buffy caught his face between both hands and locked her gaze on his.
Before his eyes her hazel ones clouded over, almost like a layer of smog had settled upon them. When she spoke, her voice was deep and rough, a sound unlike any he had ever heard come from her.
"Make sure you break the skin, when you put the blood between us." And with that, her face contorted into the visage of a vampire, and Buffy lunged at his throat, her fangs sliding in easily.
Once again, Angel sat bolt upright in bed, this time truly awake.
And miles away, in a different city, the Slayer awoke with a gasp.
~*~
and when you got me pregnant i stopped the party and
i stopped the typewriter and
i stopped your dumb ball game in the red barn and
i stopped your father and bled instead
"Oh, have I ever told you how much I adore your hands?"
"Maybe once or twice."
"Love your hands. Magic hands."
"I wouldn' need magic hands if ye weren't so tense. Wha's wrong luv?"
"Oh, I've just not been sleeping so well, and... oh, right there... the baby likes to hold soccer matches inside me... ooohhhh... even in the middle of classes... once again, love your hands." Alex smiled from his position behind his wife, gently massaging her back as she told him about her day.
"Plus, I'm worried. I mean, the end of the year's coming up, and there's exams and I won't be there for my students a lot of the time. Not to mention the Mayor's funky end of the world stuff, and with me like this I can't do anything to help."
"Ye need t' relax. All yer worrying isn't good fer the baby. Buffy's gotten this far, hasn't she? And she has us t' help."
"I know, trust me. Logically, I know that. But those kids are like my... younger siblings -- one of them is my younger sibling -- and I feel all fat and pregnant and totally helpless. God knows Buffy needs all the help she can get."
"An' what about tha Angel o' hers?"
"I'm not sure. I have a feeling that he may be the reason for some of her troubles... Oh, I'm just about to rip my hair out!"
"Don' do tha! I luv yer hair!" Lauren turned over and glared at him and he shrugged, smiling shyly in the face of her reproachful stare. Finally, she closed her eyes and snuggled against him as much as her belly would allow, burying her nose in his bare chest.
"I love this. Just being able to talk at night."
"I luv ye, Laurs. I luv ye, Brighid and the baby we've made inside ye. Ye three are m' family." Alex's hands threaded through her hair at that, combing through the long, silky strands. Lauren sighed, settling herself even more. If she could pick one place to spend the rest of her life, this was where she'd choose. She loved this man more than anything in the entire world, preternatural quirks and all.
"Laurs?" His voice was different, and Lauren looked up at him, her forehead creased in a slight frown. But when she met his gaze, she found herself not looking at the clear blue, love-filled gaze of her husband, but at the hatred-filled, stormy chocolate gaze of the woman that had betrayed her. The fingers in her hair twisted, pulling the strands taught as she yanked Lauren's head up so that it was level with her own.
"Make sure you break the skin, when you put the blood between us." Blood red lips twisted into a smirk at that, and Lauren felt something burst inside her before blood gushed down, between her thighs.
She woke screaming, her hands clasped around her flat stomach, and another woman and man awoke in kind, all three of them separated by more than just distance, and connected by more than a dream.
~*~
i'm talking to strangers
to see what i feel
your face is changing now
and nothing seems real
"I'm having strange dreams again. Strange, recurring dreams."
"Really? What kind of dreams?"
"Angel-type dreams. It's a different scene every time, but we always talk about the exact same things, and I always do the same thing at the end."
"And what is that?"
"I growl at him. 'Make sure you break the skin, when you put the blood between us.' Whatever that means. And then -- then I v-vamp out and drink him."
--
"Ahh. I see."
"No, Wes. I really don't think you do. She turns into a vampire. Fangs, yellow eyes, ridges. Everything."
"Yes, I understand that."
"Do you? I mean, really? Because I sure as hell don't! She's... she's the Slayer. A vampire is the last thing she should ever have to be. Ever."
"Well. what else happens? You said you always talk about the exact same things. What, exactly?"
"How connected we really are. How she knows that we've had a new arrival - Lauren. And how she can help us, with the prophecy, I presume. That's something else she talks about. An Apocalypse, in four months. She's scared she might die, and... she almost breaks down. And then she... always says something that I can never make any sense of."
"Oh? And what is that?"
--
"'You want to know the value of six months? All you have to do is ask a mother who's miscarried a child.' And then I add 'Ask Lauren.' I mean... the only Lauren I -- we've ever met must be long dead by now."
"We don't know she died for sure. She just... disappeared. Like the rest of her family."
"Yeh. Oz is still hoping for a call, I think. Which is totally unrelated... Giles... this prophecy. What's it about? Another Apocalypse? I don't wanna die again... I'm not ready too... I don't want to..."
"It's just a dream Buffy. It isn't necessarily a prediction of the future. Often your dreams have more... abstract meanings than literal ones."
"Oh, so I'll suck him dry abstractly and not literally. I feel so much better now that I know that. Not."
"Well, have you considered talking to him? Calling him?"
"Umm... maybe you're right. It could be nothing. I should just, y'know, wait it out. It'll probably stop. Like, anytime soon. It'll definitely stop."
--
"Yes, that may very well be the case, but what if the dreams stop because she's died, or because the world's ending? It'll be a little late then, don't you think?"
"My mate will. Not. Die. Do you understand?"
"Uh, yes, of course."
"Good."
"Umm... is there no way for you to... change back?"
"No. I'm afraid that the entirely theoretical subject of my mate's death provokes strong emotions. When that happens, my human face tends to take a back seat for a little while."
"Of course. Well... what are we going to do?"
"I don't know Wes. I don't know."
~*~
and am i looking up at the angels
or am i really looking up at the clouds floating by?
and when i say i'm listening
why is it i only hear you when you cry?
"This is another dream, isn't it?"
"Yes and no."
"Yes and no? You can't have both, mo gra. Gotta pick one."
"Well, it's a dream. But it's not the same one you've been havin' lately. They're memories -- which I know ye know anyway -- and warnin's. This is just... a gift. From a good friend."
"Alex?"
"Yes, love?"
"I miss you."
"I miss ye too, Ionuin."
"Will I ever see you again?"
"Yer seein' me now, aren' ye?"
"You know what I mean. Will I ever see you or Brighid again? Truly see you?"
"Only time can tell, m' love, only time can tell."
"I love you baby. Forever."
"An' I love ye too. Always."