They'd been walking tirelessly for two weeks when they finally saw it. They reached the pass in the mountains, and went through to the other side. And there, spread out on the green valley floor, was the remnant of the human species from several counties. The turnout was depressing, to say the least. There were maybe two hundred. Three hundred. Such a small percentage of what there had been...
Buffy drew in a deep breath. They were her responsibility now. Hers and Angel's. No matter how pitiful.
They found a winding trail down into the valley. It was rocky and lined with scraggly pine trees on either side. Angel had to catch Buffy several times when she nearly slipped down. It was steep and tough going.
About halfway down, Buffy's Slayer sense started to twitch. She put a hand on Angel's chest to halt his forward motion. He stopped. She nodded mutely towards a bush. There was something in it...She turned suddenly. Her instincts were telling her that they were surrounded, but there was no one there.
She grabbed Angel's arm and tried to retreat back up the trail. But she stumbled, and a rock slid down into one of the bushes. It moved.
And then, from all around them, people burst from the bushes and trees. Young people, armed to the teeth. Their clothes were in tatters and they were dirty. But they were organized. In seconds, Buffy and Angel were facing outwards and were surrounded by people.
Guns and crossbows and sticks and pitchforks...The list went on. Most of the weapons they'd found weren't in very good shape. But they were still dangerous. Buffy was certain that she couldn't take them all, especially not with Angel in his human state. She looked up into his sad eyes, and saw that he'd reached the same conclusion. He was hindering their escape.
So she took the other option. She held her hands out, flat, palms up. "We come in peace." She said, hoping to inject some humor into the situation and also to get the shotgun pointed at her chest lowered.
A scrawny man with sandy blonde hair stepped forward. "I'm Matt. Who are you?" His tone was still hostile, and he still held his knife in a defensive position, but at least he was talking to them. He seemed to be the leader.
"I'm Buffy, and this is Angel."
"Where are you from?" He asked, gesturing with his knife. It made Buffy nervous. If she wanted to, she could take the knife from him and gut him with it in under five seconds. It was the other ten she was worried about.
"Umm, a beach town. About seventy miles away. I don't know what it was called..." Buffy answered. Angel stayed silent. The youth gestured sharply with his knife.
"That's not a lot of information to go on. How do we know that you're not one of them?" Fear was in his voice at the last sentence.
"Who are they?" Buffy asked, though she had a good idea what he was talking about. The demons that had destroyed their world.
Matt shook his head. "I won't speak of them here. There have been too many killings in the last few days. To talk about them would invite them back." Buffy nodded sagely, though she was confused. A few days? The world had ended almost a month ago. And Skip had told them that most of the demons were gone...
At Matt's orders, guns were pointed to their heads, and they were escorted down the trail and into one of the last human civilizations on Earth.
***
When they reached the floor of the valley, they were ushered towards a circle of canvas camping tents. People stopped what they were doing to watch the strange occurrence. While they marched, Buffy kept one eye on Matt, and the other on Angel. She knew how hard it was for him to know that he was the only thing restraining her. She wanted badly to comfort him, but there was a number of guns pointed at her back and head, and so she refrained.
Instead, she focused on Matt. From the way he was holding his knife, she could tell that he wasn't used to using it. And he wasn't very well trained, either. He held it awkwardly, keeping it as far away from him as he could without being obvious. She could tell that he didn't seem to like the idea of violence. But really, he was just a kid. Some random nineteen year old who was just trying to survive in the world. Or what was left of it.
They reached the center of the temporary settlement. Various assortments of tents and makeshift shelters were spread out haphazardly around the central area. A group of men and women were milling around at a table. They looked up when Matt and his crew got nearer.
"We found them wandering around the edge of the refuge. What should we do with them, Dad?" Matt spoke to a man sitting down. He was older, maybe in his late forties. His hair was gray and had fallen out in a circle at the back of his head. He was neither fat nor skinny, and he was wearing a striped shirt. But his mouth formed into a thin line when Matt reported to him.
"Let them go. Matt, what were you thinking? This is supposed to be a refuge! These people should have been welcomed, not ushered in at gunpoint!" Matt winced. He sighed heavily, and gestured to his crew, most of whom had already lowered their weapons.
"You're free to go." He said. Then he turned back to his father. "You know what I was thinking. People keep dying, Dad. We can never be too careful. And we can't afford to be so trusting."
Buffy wanted to stay and see what was going on. She wanted to know more about these people's problems, and to help. Skip had told them that they were supposed to lead these people. And she wanted to get a head start.
But Angel touched her gently on the arm, and she followed him away from the argument that was quickly growing heated behind them. "We should set ourselves up close to the middle. That way, we can keep an eye on the goings on."
Buffy shot a nervous look back behind them. "You're not wrong. I think that group of adults there was the closest thing these people have to leaders. Did you happen to catch the name of Matt's dad?"
Angel shook his head. "No." He grabbed Buffy's chin and turned her head to face him. Her brows were knitted together with worry, and she was biting her lip. "Buffy. You need to relax. I know you want to help, but you have to understand that you can't just tell these people that you're going to lead them. Get to know them first. Understand them. Help them as best you can. But no one, least of all them, expects you to step up now. And you should probably get some rest now. It's been a long day."
She nodded and smiled at him. "How is it that you're always so smart about these things?"
He smiled. "Two hundred plus years of living tends to help with your experience in some areas."
Buffy wryly returned his smile. "Like how to be bossy?"
"Exactly. I lived with Spike for a hundred years. You don't take control with him, and the next thing you know, you're running away from an angry mob with torches and pitchforks. And he's screaming 'it's not my bloody fault!' while trying to cop a feel with Dru."
He stopped when she realized that Buffy wasn't smiling anymore. In fact, her face had taken on a somber air and she wasn't making eye contact with him. "Buffy? Is something wrong?"
She started to shake her head no, but then stopped. "Yes. Angel, there's...um, there's something you should know about Spike. About me and Spike, actually."
She bit her lip. A cold darkness appeared in the pit of Angel's stomach. It couldn't possibly...it couldn't be what he thought. Could it? Bufffy wouldn't...she was too good for that.
"We slept together. More than once. He, um, he went and he got a soul. For me." Like a punch to his solar plexus. The implications...She said Spike not only had a soul, but that he'd gotten it himself. For her. Which only reminded him of what a horrible person he'd been as a vampire. Angelus would never have willingly gotten himself a soul. And he would never have done it for a woman. Even if it was Buffy.
"There's more. He was in love with me. Before the soul. And...he tried to rape me after I told him it was over. That's when he went to get his soul. He was making progress...and then this." She gestured around vaguely. "We were helping him. I know it." Tears came to her eyes.
Angel didn't want to ask this question. Really, really didn't want to. He didn't want to ask and he didn't really want to know the answer. But he had to. He couldn't not know. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "Did you love him?"
"I don't know. Not before. I cared about him...but not love. But when he came back with a soul...it was so hard for him, Angel. He was trying so hard. I think...I think I did love him. For a little while. But it doesn't matter now." She put both her hands on the sides of his face and pulled his head to look at her. "And it was nothing compared to what we have." Maybe so, but Angel couldn't help the storm of cold jealousy that washed through him. It left him shaking slightly with its force. The idea that one of his own childer would dare to touch his mate...
His thought process stopped dead in its tracks. He remembered telling Cordelia that he loved her. He remembered the dreams he'd had of her. She was so small and fragile and dull compared to Buffy. But...he'd still cared for her. And if they were being honest, he should tell Buffy. He nodded to himself. "There's something I should tell you, then. About Cordelia." She put a finger to his lips.
"I already know."
"You do?" Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Angel hadn't wanted her to find out on her own. He'd wanted to be able to tell her himself. If he even told her at all, to be perfectly honest.
"All of it. Anya even...she even asked me if I wanted a vengeance spell done on you for being unfaithful. Which really isn't that fair, since I was doing the same thing."
"I loved her. I did. But...she was acting differently. She wasn't Cordelia anymore." He brushed a strand of hair away from Buffy's face. "She was acting like you. I think that's why I fell for her. She was as close to you as I could get."
Both of them had watery eyes now. Buffy bent Angel's head down so she could kiss each of his eyelids. "Come on, now. None of this. I love you. And I know you love me. So let's get ourselves set up."
***
They worked in silence, but they never strayed far from one another. They laid out all of their supplies, and set up their sleeping bags and blankets. Once that was done, night was already beginning to fall.
"The days seem so short now," Buffy sighed.
"It's winter. And I know how you feel. It doesn't seem like I could ever get enough sun now that I'm human." What Angel didn't say was how much he still enjoyed the night. The way it made him feel comfortable. At home. He knew the way the night felt, because he'd lived in it for so long.
Instead of crawling into her own sleeping bag, Buffy lay down on Angel's. Made more uncomfortable by the fact that Angel was already in it.
"Buffy, I don't think this is going to work," he said, a smile in his voice.
She pouted. He didn't see it very well, though because he didn't have his night vision anymore. But she dragged her own sleeping bag over, and unzipped it and his. Then she pulled on the end of his, rolling him over and making the sleeping bag into a straight blanket. She lay down next to him, skin to skin. And she pulled the second sleeping bag over them.
"That work well enough for you?" She asked softly, and then kissed him gently on the lips.
"Mmm, yeah." She snuggled up close to him and rested her head under his chin. He kissed the top of her head, and smiled. "We'll work it out, Buffy. We will. We're together, and we're alive, and that's all that matters."
"You're just saying that to make me feel better." She said, her voice muffled by his chest. The vibrations of it sent sweet shivers down his spine.
"Did it work?"
"Yes." Idly, she worked her hands up under the back of his shirt, tracing the muscles she found there. She marveled in the warmth of his skin and the pulse of his blood beneath it. Her hands traveled up to his shoulder blade, tracing the pattern she knew to be there.
"Buffy, if you keep doing that, we won't get any sleep."
She gave him another kiss. "We don't have to go anywhere tomorrow. Let's...sleep in."
Angel was about to agree with her when a scream rang out in the night.