Equinoxium: Chapter 28
by Lisette
Legalese: See Chapter 1 for disclaimers and ratings. Appropriate credit given to "Potential," "Get It Done," Never Leave Me," and "Conversations with Dead People" for the quotes. Also, huge props to the writers of "Everwood" for giving Dr. Brown such quotable lines for me to slip in during the most opportune moments. They make my sweet moments even sweeter while the good people working for Joss make my crazy moments even more insane.
The world was silent and still, without even the whisper of a small breeze to lift the smoke that lay heavy over the sundered city while the sky, dark and heavy with thick, roiling clouds, reflected the reddish light of the fires that razed the once-green Pelennor Fields. Far away the crash of crumbling marble echoed off broken stone, the lonely sound carrying through Minas Tirith to where Buffy stood on the embrasure, the massive outcrop of stone that stretched from the doors of the mighty citadel and over the decimated city; a final, silent sentinel to that which had once been gleaming white under a bright sun - and that which had been destroyed.
Buffy had never been to this outcropping of rock; she had never been privy to such panoramic views of a country that had finally gained the peace it had long desired. But such details mattered not in this place.
"It's very beautiful here."
Silently nodding at her watcher's words, Buffy gazed upon crumbled stone buildings and massive gates that had been battered into ruin. "It is," she agreed as she surveyed the silent city. "And once it was more," she added as she frowned softly. "But now the streets run with blood," she whispered as she turned to her watcher and gazed at his impassive face. "Giles, I think that we were wrong."
"Wrong?" he parroted, his brow crinkling in confusion.
Buffy turned from her watcher and looked behind her. Halfway between where she stood and the doors to the mighty Citadel was planted a single tree - a tree that was once majestic and white, but was now withered and dead. "Very wrong," she murmured as she turned back to the ravaged city that was spread out before her.
Sighing, Giles gently placed his hand upon her shoulder. "Buffy, I know that you are tired and very far from home, but you are special. Most people in this world have no idea why they are here, but you do."
"I do?" Buffy returned as she looked to her watcher.
"You have a mission and a reason for being here. You are not here by chance," he explained slowly and patiently. "You are here because you are the Chosen One; the One with the power. You are the One who can make the difficult decisions that we are faced with, for you know as well as I that any one of us is expendable in this war."
Turning back to gaze upon the withered white tree, Buffy shook her head. "But what if I was wrong? What if I've always been wrong?" she asked as she looked sadly upon the leafless branches and the peeling bark. "Maybe I shouldn't have this power. Maybe that's not why I'm here," she murmured as she turned to find that the embrasure was gone, replaced instead with a familiar, rickety tower that had been hastily crafted from loose metal beams, with the city of Sunnydale spread beneath the swaying monstrosity. Sitting at the end of this new platform was her sister, dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt, with her feet dangling over the rusting edge.
"Then why are you here?" Dawn asked as Buffy moved forward and settled lightly beside the teen. "Aside from getting rescued, what is it that you do?"
"I don't know," Buffy admitted as she studied her sister's profile before shifting her attention to the quiet streets below. "I used to know," she mused. "Everything used to be clear. But now..."
"I know why you're here," Dawn assured as a blood-red sun began to rise over the horizon. "You're here because you're scared."
Surprised, Buffy quickly looked at her sister's turned face. "Aren't you?" she asked. "I mean, look around us," she instructed as she waved to the streets that were now littered with orcs and dark-elves that ran silently down the paved roads, their gleaming swords cutting through the black, white-etched armor of the Gondorian soldiers that died so valiantly below. "Look around and tell me why I shouldn't be scared," she murmured as she watched the silent blood-bath play out with horrifying detail. "Vashnak and his friends aren't impressed. They already know me. They know what I can do and they're laughing."
"So surprise them," Dawn challenged as she finally turned, her large blue eyes solemnly meeting Buffy's for the first time. "Force yourself to do what can't be done."
"What can't be done?" Buffy repeated with an arched brow.
"Survive. Win. It doesn't matter which," the younger girl clarified as she averted her eyes to the massacre below. "You just have to try or else you're not a slayer - you're just a girl that's waiting to be picked off and buried."
Buffy shook her head with a fierce scowl. "I've tried being the slayer and look where it brought me," she stated as she jerked a hand angrily towards where one man was getting hewed in two by an orc's bloody scimitar.
"Fine. Then quit," Dawn returned as she shrugged her shoulders dismissively. "I mean, it worked so well for you before."
"Dawn," Buffy sighed.
"Just stay close," the girl interrupted with a wry smile. "That way you can be of use if they need someone to get weepy or taken captive."
Shoulders straightening at the barb, Buffy scooted back from the edge of the platform. "Okay, that was harsh," she admonished as she turned her back on her sister and angrily stalked towards the metal stairs, the entire platform groaning and shaking with the combination of her steps and those of her sister behind her. Huffing, the slayer hurried down the many twisting steps until she finally stepped free of the ill-constructed tower and into the main room of the Magic Box.
"Buffy-"
"No," she interrupted as she paused in her angry strides to glare, not at her sister, but at her two best friends who doggedly followed her steps. "If you have something to say, then say it," she challenged as she glared at Willow and Xander.
"I think she already did," Xander countered as he cleared the last few steps and leaned stiffly against the counter.
"Buffy, it's like you've forgotten the reason why you fight," Willow explained as the slayer stubbornly crossed her arms across her chest. "You're not trying-"
"Not trying?" Buffy cut in with an angry shake of her head. "Are you blind? I've been trying since the moment that I woke up in this god-forsaken world!"
"Have you?" Xander asked. "Because it sure looks more like giving up to me," he stated as he pushed away from the counter and moved until he was towering over her petite frame. "Where's the Buffy that wouldn't stop fighting until the battle was won? Where's the Buffy that would insult those that she fought up until she drove the stake home? Where's the Buffy that-"
"Okay, so I haven't been relishing the kill the way I used to," Buffy admitted as she turned from her best friends to glare at the assembled group that stood lounging around the research table behind her.
"You were a better fighter then," Spike pointed out from where he leaned against a shelf of books, an unlit cigarette dangling from one hand.
"That's because back then I still had something to fight for!" she heatedly returned as she felt the hated tears begin to burn her eyes. But that in turn only served to remind her of Dawn's pointed jab and the slayer angrily wiped the moisture away. "I did this for you - for all of you!" she hissed as she glared accusingly at her friends. "I came here to restore the balance that you wrecked when you selfishly brought me back," she reminded as she narrowed her eyes upon Xander, Willow, Anya and Tara, "and nobody complained when I was returned to you!" she added as she included the others in her sweeping gaze. Giles, Spike, Dawn, Angel, Oz, Cordelia, Riley - and so many more. In that moment, Buffy made sure that they all felt the pain that she had kept bottled up for so long. The pain that she had bitterly swallowed.
"And now I'm paying for your mistake," she whispered, her anger dissolving to leave her feeling cold and empty inside. "You guys were my reason to keep fighting, and now I don't have you anymore. There is no reason anymore. There's no reason in any of this," she whispered as she turned away from her friends, only to find the Magic Box had been replaced by the scene of a nightmare.
She was standing upon the Pelennor Fields, the grasses browned by winter's touch and matted down beneath her booted feet. Opposite her stood an army of darkness - a line that was built of dark-elves and orcs that stretched as far as her eye could see in either direction and in so many rows that it seemed a mirror that carefully reflected the creatures to infinity. Turning, Buffy saw that she actually stood between opposing forces of light and dark, as an army of Men, Elves, and Dwarves was spread in a solid line between her and the guarded city of Minas Tirith.
"Bring her down, Legolas. Kill her. Kill her!"
Startled, Buffy looked to where Aragorn and Legolas stood, situated amongst their friends. The command had been Aragorn's, she knew, and yet the order had been given to the fair-haired elf that stood beside him - the one who slowly reached for the long bow that was slung over one shoulder.
"You don't have a reason because you prefer to wallow in your self-pity than to find one. Even when one's looking you right in the eye."
Swallowing her rising bile, Buffy watched until Legolas had fitted one perfectly crafted arrow against his bow string before she turned to acknowledge the person that stood beside her. "No," she denied as she looked straight into her own green eyes. "No, I have no reason," she murmured to her doppelganger before turning back to where Legolas was now sighting her with practiced ease.
"You need the pain it causes you," her twin argued. "You need the loneliness and the hate that you feel because of the role that was chosen for you."
Buffy curtly shook her head. "Look, we already went over this before. I don't hate like that. Not you," she countered as she turned, pausing when she looked again upon her own likeness. "Or... I guess what I mean is I don't hate myself. Not anymore."
Smiling coyly, her twin slowly shook her head, long blond locks trailing around slender shoulders. "Oh, so you think you have insight now because your soul's drenched in blood?"
Scowling at her double, Buffy turned and resolutely stared down the perfect shaft of Legolas' arrow. "Would you just shut up already?" she grumbled. "You don't know me. You don't even know yourself," she stated as the elf released the arrow that was aimed at her breast. Closing her eyes, Buffy waited for the pain to come.
And waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
"Things are coming, Buffy."
Eyes snapping open, Buffy saw that the world had changed again. The two armies had engaged one another, but their bodies were frozen mid-strike or in their death throes, blades reflecting dully off the weak light and glistening off the blood-soaked grounds. Turning, she found Vashnak standing before her, his powerful arm drawn back with his fingers curled around the edge of his taut bow string, one arrow set against the curved wood. Following the straight shaft, Buffy saw that the arrow was aimed at Legolas, the blond elf standing unarmed amongst the frozen tableau with red blood smeared across his pale face. Yet between the two elves... between them stood a vision of white and gold shining light.
"Mom?" Buffy whispered, feeling the tears begin to once more build, but this time not caring.
"Just listen, baby. I don't have much time," her mom cautioned, the familiar rich tones causing Buffy's legs to buckle beneath her as she greedily drank in the sight of her mother's soft blonde curls, the fine lines that edged her warm eyes, and pink lips that were tilted in a smile that was at once beautiful and bittersweet. "Dark times are coming and you have no place amongst them."
Frowning, Buffy tore her gaze away from her mother's lips and looked to her eyes in confusion. "What? I don't-"
"I love you, honey," Joyce cut in, "but these things are greater than you and I. You were meant to stand alone, and in the end, you will be alone for he won't be there for you."
"Why are you-"
"When it's bad, he won't choose you," her mom whispered, her smile sad. "Honey, he won't choose you."
"Mom?" Buffy gasped as she bolted upright, her tangled sheets falling away as her wide eyes swept over the darkened room.
"Easy, Buffy. You're safe."
Gasping ragged lungfuls of air, Buffy felt her sweat-slicked skin prickle at the chill temperature of the room as she was enveloped by familiar, strong arms that pressed her against a cool body. Shivering, she leaned into Angel's comforting embrace as she felt the last vestiges of her dream slowly slip away, leaving naught but half-remembered wisps and the cold chill of her mother's final words.
Honey, he won't choose you.
Buffy firmly pushed the troubling words away, deciding that she'd ruminate on the hidden messages some other time, and instead vainly tried to draw warmth from a body that was so cold. She had found comfort in this embrace for so many troubling years, and when he had gone away, it had been this very embrace that she had so craved. She had tried to find similar comfort in Riley's willing arms, but at times his body had seemed too warm - too soft and pliant in comparison to these hard, cool planes. But now... now those times were so far away in a place so distant that all too soon Buffy found herself pulling away, gently disentangling herself from Angel's arms as she settled her aching body back upon her soft bed.
"Bad dream?" he asked, his voice a low whisper as his pale lips turned down in a small frown, his warm brown eyes questioning her with his concern.
"The worst," Buffy grumbled as she snuggled back beneath the warm blankets, her gaze turning from Angel's to quietly survey the darkened room. "Where is everyone?" she asked, looking from the large, blackened window to the small fire that crackled in the hearth across the simple room.
"Giles and Xander are sleeping in a room down the hall," Angel returned as he followed her gaze, "and Spike went to have a cigarette," he added as a smile quirked his lips. "That Ioreth woman threatened to admit him if he didn't take it outside."
"Admit him?"
"Something about his complexion being too pale," Angel returned with a wry smile.
"And let me guess - you were back brooding in the shadows so she couldn't see your lack of a tan?" Buffy teased, more out of habit than anything else as she carefully eyed his pale features. He was a vampire, so of course he hadn't aged in the time since they had been apart, yet he had changed from the person that she remembered. Oh, the changes were subtle - his dark hair cut a little differently, his shoulders a little broader and his frame a little larger, and the lines around his eyes just a little bit deeper. He looked bigger, as though he had finally regained the weight he had lost after decades of living off rats, and yet... and yet he looked tired and worn. He looked as though his troubles had only increased in the time since he had left Sunnydale, and by the way he was looking at her, she knew that he could read those same changes in her own haunted eyes.
"Giles told me about what happened in LA," she murmured as she untangled one hand from her mess of blankets to twine it with his own, her eyes searching his sad gaze. "Taking over an evil law firm? You do know that this one's gonna come back and bite you in the ass, right? I mean, what were you thinking?" she asked as she squeezed his hand gently to soften the bite of her words.
Frowning, Angel looked down, and Buffy followed his gaze to their twined fingers - fingers that looked so different now. Before, the simple sight of her hand cradled within his own had always served as a startling reminder of the differences that would always lie between them. Her slender fingers had been tanned by the sun's kiss - strong and sure with the vitality of youth. Angel's fingers, in comparison, were always pale and thick - fingers that had at one time caressed the skin of countless lovers before choking the life from their bodies. Now their skin was of the same pale hue, and her fingers trembled with a weakness that was slow to leave her heavy limbs. Now her soul carried the same stains that had weighed down Angel's for over a century.
"I was thinking that I never had the chance to say goodbye," he admitted as her eyes lifted to meet his own.
Smiling ruefully at this admission, Buffy forced her aching body to move over on the small bed as she patted the soft mattress beside her. Nodding at this silent invitation, Angel scooted over and settled onto the bed beside her, one arm dropping over her shoulder and pulling her forward so that her head was cradled on his chest, his other arm holding her tight against him. Closing her eyes, Buffy breathed in his familiar scent, her cheek pressed over his unbeating heart. "This isn't quite the way I had imagined it would end between us," she whispered, noting how her body had always seemed to fit so well against his.
"What had you imagined?" he asked, his words a soft breath against her cheek as she felt a cool kiss pressed against the crown of her hair.
"Oh, I don't know," she sighed. "I guess I always thought that someday we would get our Walt Disney ending. You know, something along the lines of a permanent soul, a big kiss, and a happily ever after. I thought we deserved that much," she whispered, her smile turning wistful. "But I guess that this, more than anything else, just tells us that we really weren't meant to be. I mean, at least we had three years... well, three years and one amazing day-"
"Wait," Angel interrupted, his body stiffening beneath her cheek. "You remember-"
"The day that you lived?" Buffy returned with a wry smile. "Of course I remember," she whispered as she snaked an arm around his back and hugged herself even tighter against his torso. "Something to do with dying and going to heaven tends to make all of that magic fall away."
"But you never said anything," he whispered, his hurt ringing in his soft words.
"I know," Buffy admitted as her eyes slid shut. "But I only saw you that once, and everything was so muddled then. I didn't know quite what to believe. And then so much had happened and so much time had passed, and then Tara died and Willow went crazy, and then with the First wanting to kick my ass... well, I guess it just kind of fell to the side," she finished. "And now... maybe that's for the best."
For a moment there was silence and Buffy could almost feel the internal struggle as the part of Angel that would always love her fought against the side that had left her on the day of her graduation so that she could have a better life. With a reluctant sigh, Angel shifted his arms so that they held her even tighter against him as the inevitable side once more emerged the victor. "Doesn't make it any easier, does it?"
"No, not really," Buffy allowed as she weakly returned his fierce hug, one part of her wishing that it could be different as another ceded to the whims of her fucked up fate. "I'm sorry that Cordelia was evil," she finally murmured, pushing past that which couldn't be changed.
"She wasn't-"
"Yeah, Higher Power," Buffy finished for him as she felt his arms loosen around her small frame. "Got the memo," she added as she hesitated over how best to phrase the next question - and the answer that she already feared she knew. "Although," she began, "things are still a bit hazy on how this Higher Power got Cordy knocked up."
When Angel didn't respond, Buffy felt her fears confirmed as she gently pulled away from his embrace and scooted back on the bed until she could look at the dark-haired vampire's averted face. "Angel?" she prompted as she reached out, only to let the hand fall to her side.
"The Higher Power didn't... it was Connor," he admitted as his eyes reluctantly lifted to meet her own - eyes that shone with so much pain and longing that it took her breath away.
"And that would be the reason why Giles didn't mention him even once in his mondo explanation?" she asked, instinctively knowing that she was only guessing half the story as the vampire once more looked away.
"Buffy... coming to see you wasn't the only thing I got out of the deal with Wolfram and Hart," he hedged as she reached out and forced his chin until he had no choice but to meet her eyes.
"Angel, what happened to Connor? Where's your son?" she whispered, allowing no hint of accusation or recrimination to color her simple questions.
"Happy," Angel returned, a sad smile lifting his lips. "Safe. Normal."
"I don't understand," Buffy murmured, shaking her head slowly.
"The other half of the bargain," he elaborated. "Wolfram and Hart made things right for Connor. He's with a family that loves him and he has no memory of any of this or any of us. Of me," he finished with a smile that was so painful that Buffy felt the tears pool in her eyes.
"Angel, I'm so sorry," she whispered as she gently squeezed his hand.
Smiling ruefully at the small blonde, the vampire attempted a casual shrug as he looked down to their clasped hands. "Apparently my being a father was just another thing that was never meant to be. The thing with Cordy, and really his whole life... it wrecked him. It ruined him," he whispered, his thoughts obviously centered on the boy that she had never met - the boy that Angel couldn't stop talking about the one time that they had talked since her resurrection. "I did what I did to save the two people I love most, even though in both cases it means that I'm only saving them to say goodbye forever."
"I guess that's what makes you a champion."
"What makes us champions," Angel corrected as he squeezed her hand, his eyes daring her to argue. "There's always a hard decision to be made - a sacrifice to be given. But I think you know that as well as I do," he finished as Buffy reluctantly nodded her agreement.
"Yeah, I guess I do," she admitted as her gaze swept over her darkened room, healing implements and jars of herbs scattered over various surfaces. "Just do me a favor and be careful," she whispered as she returned her attention to the vampire that would always be her first love. "I wish I could say that nothing good is going to come from running Wolfram and Hart, but... well, you're here now," she admitted, "and I don't think I'd be able to say the same about myself if it wasn't for you guys. But still..."
"I know," Angel agreed. "We'll be careful."
"And if it's not too much trouble-" she began, her thoughts turning to the little sister that she had been forced to leave behind.
"She'll be safe," he interrupted as he lifted her hand to press a cool kiss against her skin. "They all will be. I'll keep my eye on them," he promised.
"And that's all I ever needed to know," Buffy returned, feeling some part of the heavy weight lift from her shoulders. Even though he'd be running an evil law firm, the slayer knew that she couldn't have left her friends and family in better hands. Angel would sooner die than allow anything to befall those that she loved.
"You know," he mused, his eyes caressing her features as though he was somehow trying to lock in every detail of her pale face, "I'd like to say that if I had one more day with you - one more day to do things differently - I'd do everything right. That I wouldn't make the same mistakes again." Smiling, he slowly shook his head. "But I would," he stated, his voice firm as his eyes caught and held her own. "I would do everything the same all over again, save one thing."
"And what's that?" Buffy asked, a coy smile twisting her lips.
Expression completely serious, Angel gently tugged at her hand, pulling her forward as he leaned forward to press a cool, soft kiss against her forehead. Pulling away, he brushed his lips against her ear. "I wouldn't say goodbye."
"Which time?"
Startled, Buffy pulled back and turned towards the open door to see Spike leaning against the wooden frame, the flickering candlelight reflecting off his spiked, platinum colored hair and an indignant scowl fixed upon his angular features.
"Which time was it that you'd hold off on the goodbyes?" the younger vampire demanded. "I mean, was it the time that you left her to go to hell? Or was it when you left her to go to Los Angeles after she blew up the mayor? Or was it-"
Laughing, Buffy shook her head as she turned back to find Angel glowering at his grand-childe. "I hope that this was really worth your while," she murmured as she slowly pulled away.
Angel seemed to consider this for the briefest of moments before he smiled slyly at the petite slayer. "Of course it was. Not only did I get my goodbye, but I even got to see Spike get nailed with an arrow. Now if only it had hit just a little to the left..."