A/N: Okay. I know, I'm very, very bad. I am so sorry for the delay, especially because I ended part 6 with a cliffhanger! I really didn't mean for it to be this long, but school has been crazy and I don't have as much time anymore. But I promise I will try to do better. This chapter is a long one, I've been working on it for a few days and I'm really happy with how it turned out. I am really curious to know what everyone thinks so please review. Enjoy!
Part 7
Sunday, June 25th, 2020
Buffy blinked. "Excuse me?"
The girl just smiled innocently. "I think you heard me."
She frowned and took a step back. "Who are you?"
"Is that really important right now?" she asked, sounding slightly impatient in an angelic way. And although she wanted to protest, Buffy had to admit that although she knew nothing about this girl, she had a feeling deep down that she could trust her. "So, do you want to see or not?"
"See what, exactly?" Buffy asked, still confused.
"You said that you wonder what your life would have turned out like if you had stayed in New York. I am offering you a chance to see," she said simply. She held out her hand. "All you have to do is take my hand."
Buffy looked at the girl, into her innocent yet mysterious eyes, and then down to the hand that was hovering steadily only inches from her. Without even thinking, she slowly placed her hand on the girl's.
She smiled politely. "See? That wasn't so hard. Now come with me." She turned and started off down the street, Buffy following behind, frowning slightly.
They walked for a few blocks in silence, before turning abruptly into an alley, so quickly that Buffy nearly tripped. The girl finally stopped when they were out of the view of the main drag. She released Buffy's hand and smiled at her. "Close your eyes."
Buffy looked around uneasily. "I don't-"
"Do you trust me?" she asked again, interrupting.
Buffy thought for a moment. Every instinct told her she could trust this girl. And the prospect of seeing what might have been was beyond tempting. Hesitantly, she closed her eyes.
"Very good. You can open them now," the girl's voice whispered to her. Her eyes fluttered open, and she was surprised to see that they were no longer in the alley. They were standing in the middle of a small, dingy, windowless one room apartment. The wood floor was rotting in places, and the one light fixture hung limply from the ceiling, exposed jutting out from the too-large opening. Paint was chipping off the walls, and the few pieces of furniture that were there had definitely seen better days. There was a stained mattress, an old, ugly couch, a coffee table with one leg taped on, a small refrigerator in one corner, and a grungy sink and toilet in the far corner. The floor was littered with clothing, papers, and bottles, and the whole place reeked of alcohol. Buffy listened closely, and heard the distinct sounds of city traffic: horns honking, brakes squealing. But in addition she also heard shouting and breaking glass. They were obviously in a very bad part of New York. She turned and looked at the girl, who was standing next to her, expressionless.
"Do I...do I live here?" Buffy asked slowly.
She smiled sadly. "Thankfully, no."
"Well who does then? What is this, some kind of alternate universe?" Buffy asked, stepping carefully around the apartment.
"I guess you could say that," she replied frankly.
Buffy glanced around, looking for a clue as to who lived here: if you could even call it that. She spotted a water damaged box under the couch and pulled it out. She noticed right away that it wasn't dusty. The owner obviously looked at it a lot. She carefully removed the lid. It was mostly empty, with just a few odds and ends in the bottom. Picking up the thing on top, she turned it over to see that it was a photograph. A familiar photograph.
"Oh my God," she said quietly. The picture was of herself and Tracey, dressed in their Columbia cheerleading uniforms, arms around each other and smiling. She realized who the only other person who would have this picture was, and looked up in shock. "No."
Before the girl could reply, Buffy heard a key in the lock. She replaced the photograph quickly and shoved the box under the couch. She stared at the door in anticipation, half knowing, but still not wanting to see who walked in. When the door opened she let out a little cry. "No," she whispered. "It can't be....Tracey?"
The girl who had just entered the apartment in no way resembled the girl that she had known in college, and the movie star she knew now, yet there was no doubt in her mind that this was indeed Tracey Edwards. Her once beautiful, short, dark, bouncy hair hung limply to her head, looking like it wasn't washed nearly enough. She had a ridiculous amount of makeup on, so much that it totally masked her natural beauty. And she was wearing an extremely skimpy, cheap costume, with a short pleather skirt, a too tight corset, and high heels. It was quite clear that she was a stripper or possibly a prostitute. But what scared Buffy the most was the vacant, dead look in her eyes. A girl that had once been so full of life was in this reality completely dead inside.
Buffy watched in horror as she staggered to the couch, collapsing. She pulled a bottle of beer out of the paper bag she was holding and took a swig. Tired of watching, Buffy ran over to her, leaning in her face. "Tracey, what are you doing?" She frantically tried to get her friend's attention, although she seemed to be looking right through her.
"She can't see you. We don't actually exist in this reality, we're just visiting," her companion said clearly.
Buffy spun around, horrified. "What happened to her?"
"Buffy, in this reality there was no best selling book. No chart topping movie. Therefore, no big debut for Tracey Edwards, movie star. Here, poor Tracey blew all her money trying to make it big after graduation. But that never happened. So she's had to turn to prostitution and stripping at the dive down the street. If you haven't noticed, we're in the bad part of town."
Buffy shook her head quickly. "But she has talent! She's starred in dozens of movies, won a Golden Globe!"
"Well maybe without you by her side, supporting her, no one realized that potential," she said sadly.
"But I'm still here, somewhere in this reality. Why don't I help her?" Buffy demanded.
"Because without the book deal, and the hit movie, you aren't exactly living as comfortably as you are back home. And yes, your husband has money, but it didn't last forever. Besides, Tracey is ashamed of who she's become. She broke off all contact with you ten years ago. She didn't want to be a burden."
Just then there was a knock at the door. Buffy watched as Tracey staggered up from the couch over to the door, throwing it open. "Whaddya want?" she asked, slurring her words.
"The rent is two weeks late. Again. Do you want me to evict you?" barked a menacing looking, very overweight man that looked like he hadn't showered in at least a week.
"Joe, ya know I'll get it to you. I get paid tomorrow," she said weakly.
"In your line of work, you get paid every day. I need the money by Monday, or you're out on the street." He turned away and thumped heavily down the stairs.
Tracey made her way back to the couch, swearing under her breath. She finished the beer bottle she was holding and plopped on the couch, reaching into the bag she had brought home and pulling out another bottle. It was obvious where her day's wages had gone.
Buffy stared down at the floor, not letting herself look at the broken woman on the couch. "I can't do this. I want to go home. This...it isn't right here, this isn't how it was supposed to be."
"I'm afraid it's not that easy. You bought the whole trip, you can't get off at the first stop!" she insisted. "Besides, there is still much more to see."
Buffy sighed painfully. "Well just please get me out of here? I can't stand seeing her like this."
She reached out and took her hand. "As you wish."
There was a flash and Buffy felt temporarily disoriented. When the view became clear again, she found herself standing in a different place. It was Giles's apartment. Well his old apartment anyway, the one he had lived in before Buffy bought the house for him and her mom.
"I don't even want to know," she mumbled to herself. Seeing Tracey like that had already made her regret ever taking this mystery girl's hand, and if more people she loved were in pain in this reality she frankly didn't want to see it. She just wanted to go back to the mess of a life she had back in her dimension, although she also had no idea what she would do once she returned.
She heard a noise from down the small hallway, and looked up. When she saw what it was, she moved her hand to her mouth. "No."
Giles was awkwardly rolling himself in a wheelchair around the corner. He looked very old, years older than he did back where she came from. A large scar was on his forehead, and he looked vacant and in pain, yet still determined. At least she could see a faint glimmer of the Rupert Giles she knew and loved, unlike with Tracey, who had been nothing but empty inside.
"What happened to him?" Buffy asked, her heart breaking as he struggled around the furniture to get towards the bookcase. Every bone in her body was screaming out to her to help him, but she knew she couldn't.
"A demon bested him in a fight three years ago. He was in a coma for over three days, ended up paralyzed from the waist down. You flew in from New York to be with him while he was in the hospital. But he still hasn't given up the good fight," she said admiringly. "He still gives information to your friends Willow and Tara, so they can help stop the spread of evil. Isn't that nice?"
Buffy brightened at the mention of her friends' names. "Willow and Tara! So, they're...okay here?" she asked hesitantly.
The girl smiled. "Right as rain. I guess in some cases love does conquer all."
"What about Xander and Anya?" Buffy asked.
The girl's smile faded. "They are a different story. That will be our next stop."
"Where's my mom?" Buffy asked suddenly. "They were in love, they still are."
"Things didn't work out, after you didn't come back. They grew apart, and eventually Joyce moved away. She's living in Illinois with your aunt Arlene. But she's healthy."
Buffy closed her eyes, trying to collect herself. "Is there anything else to see here?"
"No, I believe we've seen enough. Poor Rupert," she said with a sigh, as Giles reached up for a book, which slipped out of his hand and fell onto his leg. He grunted in pain, but picked up the book and opened to a marked page, squinting to read. Before she could say anything, she felt the girl's hand in hers and the world began to spin once again.
Things slowed to a stop, but before looking around, Buffy turned to her companion. "Why are things so different here? Everyone managed fine while I was in New York for college. How come suddenly Giles is in a wheelchair, and Xander and Anya are God-only-knows-what?" she asked angrily.
"Buffy, who does most of the fighting nowadays?" she asked simply.
She thought for a moment. "Well, Angel I guess."
"Exactly. And Angel is in New York with you. So therefore people that are for the most part lacking in the supernatural area have to handle things."
"But what about Angel Investigations? Cordelia, and Wesley?" she asked hopefully.
She shook her head sadly. "Cordelia gave up the good fight a few years after you decided to remain in New York She stuck it out for a while, but in the end it became too much for her and she moved to Chicago. Wesley lasted a little longer, but when he couldn't support the business anymore he moved to South America. He's still fighting vampires there."
"But they wouldn't just give up like that. They believe in Angel's cause," Buffy insisted.
"I think you're forgetting how hard it is to be alone," she said softly. "Why don't we take a look around the next stop on our little tour."
Buffy took in her new surroundings. It was a small, yet clean apartment. She could tell from the air and the amount of sunlight coming in the windows that she was still in California. She looked around and her eyes fell on a man sitting on the couch, watching the television with his back to her. "Xander?" she asked, recognizing the hair. She walked around the couch to face him. With a sigh of relief, she noted that he didn't look much different. A little depressed maybe, but at least intact. "Where's Anya?" she asked, not even wanting to know.
"She left a year after you didn't come back," the girl said, her voice echoing across the room. "After Xander's accident, they were constantly fighting. It just couldn't work."
Buffy began to ask 'what accident,' but just then Xander stood up, and she gasped. His pant leg had risen slightly when he had stood, and it had revealed a metal prostheses. "Oh God," she whispered.
"He was fighting a demon, it got a hold of him and ripped his leg clean off. Technically he can still lead a fairly normal life. Isn't modern technology great? But Anya couldn't deal with it," the girl said plainly.
"Does he still fight?" Buffy asked, watching Xander move around the room, relieved that he could still walk normally.
"No. After he lost everything because of demons, he didn't really want much to do with them anymore."
Buffy could feel the tears begin to well up in her throat. "It's not fair. Just because I decided to go on with my life across the country everyone I love is suffering."
She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she turned around to see the girl staring at her sadly. "I guess it just goes to show you how severe the consequences of one decision can be." She reached out her hand. "We only have one more place to go."
Buffy hesitated. "I never got your name."
She smiled. "Anne."
Buffy started to smile. "That's-"
"Your middle name. I know." She moved her hand closer. "We still have the big finish." Nodding, Buffy took her hand.
There was another flash, and then Buffy felt her feet touching ground again. She opened her eyes to see that she was in another apartment, which from the sounds of it was in New York. They were standing in a kitchen. It was small and kind of dark, yet tidy. She started walking towards the hallway a short distance ahead. When she realized that Anne wasn't next to her anymore, she turned around, and was surprised to see the girl sitting at the kitchen table. "Aren't you coming?" she asked, frankly afraid to venture out alone.
She shook her head. "You need to go alone. When you're ready, I will be right here."
Buffy looked from her, to the dim, beckoning hallway, and back again. "After what we've seen, I'm scared."
"That's perfectly normal. But you don't need to be afraid. The purpose of this little adventure wasn't to harm you."
"Well what is it then?" Buffy asked curiously.
Anne smiled soothingly. "I'll tell you everything after you've seen. Now go," she said encouragingly.
Buffy took a deep breath, and started down the hallway. She passed a bathroom and a few closed doors, most likely bedrooms. She started to open one, but then heard a noise coming from farther into the apartment. Moving quickly, she followed the sound.
She stepped through the threshold into the living room. It was decorated modestly, yet was still dark. The entire apartment was, probably because she had only seen two windows so far. She remembered the apartment Angel had been this close to signing the lease on, and realized with a pang that although this one appeared to be larger, it was nowhere near as bright and homey. It was actually kind of depressing. She scanned the room, and froze when she found herself staring at her mirror image.
She had always wondered what it would be like to look at herself, and now she was. She was sitting on the couch, staring blankly into space. She looked exhausted. That's probably what I look like, too, she thought sadly. Taking a few steps, she examined herself. One of the first things that she noticed was that she was dressed very plainly. These were obviously no high end clothes. Not that she walked around in Marc Jacobs every day back home, but she did but money and time into her appearance. This version of herself didn't appear to. She was wearing plain jeans and a white button-down shirt. Her hair hung plainly to her shoulders.
Forcing herself to look away, her eyes wandered the room. Her eyes fell on a framed picture that was displayed prominently on a table near the door. Hurrying over, she picked it up, and found herself staring at Connor. He looked the same as he always had, with his sort of half smile and bright eyes. However he appeared as she remembered him from years before, when she had just met him. But something about this picture and the way it was displayed was really bothering her, and she just couldn't put her finger on it. Feeling uncomfortable and confused, she replaced the picture. Just then the door to the apartment, which was situated only feet from where she was standing, opened and Serena walked in.
"Hi Mom," her daughter said, walking right past her and giving the woman on the couch a kiss on the cheek. Buffy smiled with relief at seeing that her beloved daughter was there and in one piece. Thank God that some things didn't change, she thought to herself. Her daughter turned around and started speaking again. "Where's Dad?" she asked hesitantly.
Couch-Buffy's face darkened. "I don't know. He should be home soon."
It's okay, he's probably just out..fighting evil, Buffy reassured herself. Although she knew that it being the middle of day, that was highly unlikely. She could also tell from the expressions on "herself" and Serena that this was not a first-time occurrence, and that something more than slayage was going on.
It's happening all over again, she thought, her head spinning. I can't escape it. No matter where I go, I am unhappy, Angel is distant, and everything is a mess.
"Do you need my help with anything?" Serena asked gently, sitting her bookbag down on an armchair that had several holes in it.
Before she could answer, a little flash ran past Buffy, startling her. Her other self smiled. "I thought you were asleep, mister! What are you doing out of bed?"
The little boy smiled angelically. "I'm not sweepy," he said in a little high pitched voice.
"Liam?" Buffy whispered incredulously. She stepped closer, hurrying around the room in order to look in the little boy's eyes. "Oh my God," she said, in shock. "You're so perfect."
He really was. The little five-year-old was small and innocent looking, with untidy dark hair and big, bright eyes. One little pudgy hand was rubbing his ear, and the other was holding a blue blanket. He was wearing little blue pajamas, and his bare feet were fidgeting on the wooden floor. He looks just like Angel, Buffy thought, feeling a tear of joy fall from her eyes down her face. She reached out to touch him, yet when her hand reached where his shoulder was she felt only air. Using two hands, she frantically reached out for him, determined to hold him in her arms, but it was to no avail. Finally giving up, she collapsed on the floor, staring at him in awe.
She watched as this reality's version of herself scooped the little boy up. "Mr. Liam, you have an ear infection. You were supposed to be napping. Don't you want to be all better to go to school tomorrow?" She kissed him on the forehead. Buffy had noticed that from the moment he had entered the room, there had been a visible change in the sad woman that had been on the couch. Sure, she had also brightened when Serena had come home, but even more when Liam had run into the room. Her eyes looked bright, and hopeful. She was also smiling. It was clear that this little boy was her everything. Just like he would have been to me.
"But I'm not tired anymore. And I don't wike kindegarten," he whined.
"Liam, if you go back to bed like a good boy, I'll watch the Wiggles with you later," Serena coaxed, reaching out and taking him from her mom. The little boy brightened.
"Okay S'rena," he said, cutely slurring his big sister's name.
"I'll get him back to bed," Serena said, starting down the hall.
"Thanks sweetie," Buffy replied, sounding relieved. Without even thinking, invisible-Buffy started off down the hall after them, almost in a sort of trance. All that was registering in her mind was that her Liam was alive and well, and she needed to be near him.
She followed her daughter into one of the bedrooms. The walls were painted blue, and there was a little race car shaped bed and lots of toys strewn all over. "There you go," Serena said, putting him down on the bed. She adjusted his blankets. The little boy smiled sweetly up at her.
"Thank you S'rena. I go sleep now."
Smiling, Serena gave her little brother a kiss on the cheek. "Sleep tight." She turned off the light and exited the room, closing the door behind her. Buffy watched her intently as the teenage girl sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I'll be in my room," she called out, before entering the room next to Liam's.
It was small, just like her brother's. It wasn't nearly as spacious and decorated as her room back home. There were only a few pieces of furniture, and there were some clothes laying haphazardly on a chair, but the walls were fairly bare. Back home, Serena's walls were covered with photographs, posters, and magazine clippings. Also, art. Her Serena loved art, just like her father, and there was an entire wall in her room where she tacked up her sketches. But this room was art-free. Buffy noticed a few pictures stuck to the mirror, and she went over for a closer look. One was Serena with her grandmother Joyce, it was obviously several years old, and it appeared to be from Christmastime. Another was a recent picture of Liam and Serena laughing. Then there was one of the four of them, Buffy, Angel, Serena and Liam, also from a few years ago. Liam looked no older than two. Her eyes fell on the last picture, one of Serena and Connor. This was the oldest of the group. Serena looked about ten, and her brother had his arm around her. The edges of the picture were worn, possibly suggesting that it was handled often. Buffy's eyes fell back on her daughter, who was staring at herself in the mirror. "I am so tired," she mumbled to herself. "I haven't slept in a week thanks to those stupid dreams."
Buffy froze. No. It's happening all over again. She began to breathe harder, running her hands through her hair. No matter where she went, she couldn't escape it. The slayer curse. She didn't know when exactly she had begun thinking of it as a curse. Probably around five years ago. Five years ago everything had changed, and she knew that there was no going back. They would never get back to the happy life they had before they lost Liam, nothing would ever be that simple again. Overwhelmed, she ran out the door, and without thinking she found herself back in Liam's room. The little boy was asleep now. His face was scrunched up, and his little chest was rising and falling rhythmically. Buffy stared at him, wishing more than anything that she could reach out and touch him, because then maybe everything would be okay again.
As she stood there watching her baby sleep, she realized that a few things didn't make sense. Back home, it had been Liam's death that had sent her life into a tailspin. Yet here, here he was, but Angel was still distant, and things appeared far from perfect. Something else must have happened here, something that didn't happen back home.
The sound of the front door opening jarred her from her thoughts. For a few moments she just sat there, unwilling to leave her baby boy. But then she heard her husband's voice, and her curiosity got the best of her. She hesitantly left the room, stealing one last glance back at the little boy sleeping so peacefully. "Goodbye my sweet Liam," she whispered. Then before she lost her nerve, she hurried back to the living room.
"Where have you been?" she watched herself demand.
"Out," he said gruffly.
Her other self closed her eyes. "Liam is asleep. Can we please take this somewhere else?"
Angel hurried off, entering the room next to Serena's, both Buffys on his heels. He closed the door, leaving the three of them standing in what was clearly Buffy and Angel's bedroom.
"Angel, this needs to stop. It seems like every day now you just disappear, and go off to do God knows what. I miss you, our children miss you. Please Angel, just talk to me!" she begged.
"I just need a break sometimes," he replied, pacing around the room. "Do we have to do this now?"
"I really think we do. Angel, we both know that things haven't been the same since what happened to Connor. But just because you lost one son that doesn't give you the right to ignore your other children!" she said firmly. As that began to sink in, everything started to make sense. Connor died here. Connor died, and everything that happened back home with Liam happened all over again. At least to Angel. It all made sense now, the odd vibe she had gotten from the picture, the visibly treasured photo in Serena's room.
"Why do you always have to bring him into everything?" Angel barked.
"Angel, please keep your voice down. You know Liam is sick," Buffy begged, on the verge of tears.
"Well it's not fair that you have to blame my dead son for everything that happens to you! If it weren't for you, he would still be here, and we would still be happy," Angel said angrily.
Buffy jumped when she felt someone suddenly standing beside her. She turned to see Anne staring at her, expression stony. "I think you've seen enough." Before she could protest, she touched her hand, and the apartment disappeared in a flash.
When she regained her bearings, she found that they were back in the alley. "What was that? What happens there?" she demanded, shaken to her very core by the scene she had just witnessed.
"That was your life, had you stayed in New York all those years ago."
"What happened to Connor?" she said firmly.
"Drive by, four years ago. He was fighting vampires in the bad part of LA, a few punks drove by in a car and shot him. He was killed instantly." Anne sighed. "Angel thinks that had you moved back to California, he would still be alive."
Buffy's head was beginning to hurt. "And Serena, she is still a slayer even there, even there where everything is different."
"I suppose that sometimes you cannot escape your destiny," Anne said sadly.
"And Liam. My precious Liam...he was so perfect, did you see how perfect he was?" Buffy said, tears in her eyes.
Anne smiled. "He is a beautiful little boy. A lot like his father."
Buffy stared at her suddenly. "Who are you?"
"I'm Anne," she said with a laugh.
"No, don't give me that. I had never seen you before until a couple hours ago, and then all of a sudden you take me to some awful alternate reality where I get to see what might have been? That is definitely not normal. So what are you, and who sent you here? What do you want from me?" she pleaded.
Anne sighed, resigning. "I am a messenger for the Powers That Be. Whenever one of their warriors is in pain, or needs direction, they try to interfere. I was sent to give you a glimpse, and to hopefully help you feel more at ease with the life you have, the life you chose."
Buffy tried to put that together in her mind. "So seeing that is supposed to make me feel fortunate?"
"Buffy, you saw everything. Your Watcher, your friends, your husband, your children. That apartment! Do you really think that dark, gloomy apartment is any place to raise children?" she asked.
"Why was it like that? I mean, Angel has money, and me, I worked, the Tribune!" she said hopefully.
Anne shook her head. "Money doesn't last forever. You stopped working when Liam was born. Angel tries to find work, but since what happened to Connor he couldn't keep a job. And you know how expensive Manhattan living is! Even though that apartment isn't the best, you still pay a pretty penny for it."
"Stop doing that! Stop calling her me! She's not, she was...different," Buffy said.
"How Buffy? She was unhappy, detached from her husband and her friends."
"But she had Liam!" Buffy shouted.
"And you have Serena," Anne replied firmly. "So that's why you need to stop dwelling on the past and go help your daughter. She needs you now, maybe more than ever. She needs both of you."
"You don't know how hard it is," Buffy said softly.
Anne sighed. "Buffy, it's almost time for me to leave now. But just remember one thing." She took a step closer and grasped her shoulders. "I gave you that glimpse so you will see the good in your own life. I truly hope that I have fulfilled that purpose." Smiling sadly, she took a step back and vanished as if she were never there, leaving Buffy standing alone in the alley.
"Come on Buffy," Angel said quietly, anxiously staring out the window. Serena had called earlier, she was sleeping over at Liz's again. Angel hadn't told her that her mother had run off. The poor girl had enough to deal with right now.
He sat down heavily on the couch. Part of him knew he should go look for her, but he also knew his wife. He knew that if she didn't want to be found, there was no chance of finding her. She'll come home. She just needs to think things through, he thought to himself, as he sat there alone and worried.
March 31st, 2015
In a blind fury, Angel walked briskly through Restfield Cemetery. Buffy had finally fallen asleep, and he had been able to get out at last. And now he was on a mission.
He had scoured every square foot of the cemetery, yet there was still no sign of him. Incredibly frustrated, yet not giving up, he started walking back in the direction he had come from. Then he saw him, dashing behind a tomb up ahead.
He ran flat out, not stopping until he overtook the vampire, pinning him to the ground. Then he swung an arm back and punched him with all his strength.
"You son of a bitch! Do you know what you did? He's dead because of you! My son is dead!" he shouted, not stopping with the punches.
The vampire looked truly shocked, as each punch disoriented him more. Angel continued pummeling until he ran out of strength. "Damn...you..."
Finally, with his last ounce of strength, he jammed a wooden stake through the vampire's heart. He turned to dust, and Angel fell back, out of breath and crying. Then he lied back on the ground and let the tears come.