Note 1: Anon reviews are now being taken. Please, if you want to flame something about my story, do it with maturity. Point out what is wrong, how you would fix it personally, and why. If you like something, tell me about it in particular. This is my first attempt, and feedback is both appreciated, and needed. Danke.
Note 2: Danke to the following people for reviewing; ParadigmShifter, Rivana, Moonjava, tohonomike, Shinigami-chan, Jane McCartney, and KColl2003.
The Account of Acathla
By Vinya
Acathla the demon came forth to swallow the world. He was killed by a virtuous knight, who pierced his heart before he could draw a breath to perform the act. Acathla turned to stone, as demons sometimes do, and was buried where neither man nor demon would ever want to look.
…Unless, of course, you're putting up low rent housing,
Angel to Spike, Season Two, 'Becoming'
Chapter 1
Looking into the room I could see several things. The lights had dimmed; body parts lay scattered in piles of dust, and two swords lay side by side, thrown on the ground by the two lovers who stood in front of the statue of Acathla. They were talking. Just talking.The spell had worked.
And behind him, unseen to the happy pair, the demon opened his mouth emitting a light so bright it almost hurt to look at it. But it was still unseen to the two lovers re-united.
He spoke, and I could hear the lost and confused tone in his voice. Muddled. Scared. Upset. He had awoken to find himself fighting to the death with the woman he loved, and for a moment I understood what he was thinking. What he was feeling.
Like the sword through the chest that he deserved for his crimes.
Buffy heard my footsteps and turned towards me, with Angel looking over her shoulder. "Xander!" She called out, "Is Giles alright?"
I snorted, and despite my semi-fuzzy feelings for the vampire, I sent a look of pure loathing towards him, receiving only confusion in return. "He'll be alright. That is, if the world doesn't end."
She looked to me, confusion on her face as well now, and then it hit her. She turned to the statue, along with Angel, and they stared into the bright light. "Oh god," she murmured, "No… no, I can't. Oh god Xander, I can't. He's Angel, my angel, again."
"I know."
I nodded sadly, understanding. She couldn't.
Buffy the slayer was a means to an end. Buffy the girl had nothing left. Nothing. Nothing but him; and she couldn't give him up. Wouldn't.
And she shouldn't have to.
When I had come in, it was with the knowledge that I would kill him myself, standing in front of her if I had to. I would push that sword down his throat, and shove him in, and damn the consequences.
Because it wasn't about her.
But then… what's the point of humanity if not the people? That's what humanity is. People have to be able to have choices… and they shouldn't be ones that will end another persons should they make it. I bent down, and picked the sword up.
"Xander?" Angel asked slowly, "What… what are you doing? What's going on?"
I rolled the sword in my hand, feeling the blood on it. Slick. Darker then it should have been. It was his. Deadboy's. "You know," I said quietly, "I was going to kill you."
Angel blinked once, and tears welled in Buffy's eyes. She knew what had to be done.
"But I won't."
"What?" the voice was unanimous. Giles from the doorway, standing against it warily, Buffy with tears in her eyes, and even Angel, confused.
"All that's needed is his blood…" I whispered, "Doesn't really matter who it's on… I read the book though; a body and some blood. Right?"
I turned to Giles, looking at him carefully, the question still in my voice. And… he looked back, even sadder now, knowing what I was going to do. Knowing he couldn't stop me. Knowing… that even if he could, were all just a means to an end. And he needed the best over here. He nodded. A body and some blood.
Buffy needed Angel to love her. Slayer needed Angel to fight. Giles needed that too…
But, me? I joke, I fool. It's important, I know, calms the stress and gives people a little bit of leeway. But when it comes right down to it, personal happiness isn't as important as success.
And with that I walked towards the portal; it was getting wider by the moment. "See you on the other side," I whispered to him.
And then, sword in hand, I was gone.
And the trio just watched on.
Angel watched as Xander jumped through the portal, but he couldn't be sure as to why Buffy and Giles looked so upset. What was it? Where did it go? And how, bloody how, did it get there in the first place?
How had he?
"Angel," Buffy whispered quietly, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a vice like hug as she sobbed, "Oh god, Angel, he's gone."
"I don't…" His voice was still muddled, and he hugged her back, "I don't understand."
"He… you were Angelus again, Angel… we had to stop you."
"No," he sad, shaking his head as if to disprove the very notion, "No. I can't. I wouldn't."
"You did," Giles replied as he slowly inched his way forward, "You were Angelus. That was the portal to the dimension in which Acathla meant to suck the entire world into."
He blinked, once. Twice. Shook his head again.
And thoughts began rolling back. Memories, nightmares, perverted dreams. "Oh lord," he murmured, clutching Buffy tighter, "What did I do?"
"Nothing sweetie," she said back, her voice hitching from sobs, "It was Angelus, never you."
"It was you," Giles nearly roared, "You knew! You knew you could lose your soul, and never told! You knew, and now Xander is in some hell dimension suffering for you! A man, a creature, that he hated!"
"Giles-"
"You did this," he yelled, waving his hands about to show everything, "Sent Willow to the hospital in a coma, forced Buffy to fight to the death with you, had his wrist broken! You killed Kendra!"
For a moment it was as though Ripper had come out again, as a bloody Giles stood there, his breath harsh and his eyes flared. "You tortured me, and nearly destroyed the entire earth in the process," the words were dangerously quiet now, "If you had ever sought redemption…"
"Giles-"
"Don't say my name!" He yelled again as he began back towards the exit, mumbling to himself quietly, "I've got to… Willow… We must tell Willow."
And as I walk, I learn and grow
Try to understand and know
That some are evil, some are good
It has yet to soften the blow
Buffy put her face to his chest and sobbed all the harder, thinking of her friend. He was gone, probably forever, being tortured. She should have been the one to do it, to give her life for the world.
It was her destiny. Her duty. Her job to complete. But then… that's what he had said, so many times, about killing Angelus. It was what she had to do, and when it came to the final moments, she couldn't.
She had failed. Her, Buffy the Slayer, with powers beyond what any man could imagine, had failed.
Where he had succeeded.
All I wanted, all I need
Is to feel a trust down deep
And yet I can't, and wonder why
There's no such thing as what I seek
And Angel turned to the portal, Buffy in his arms, and remembered all the insults that had been thrown his way. The comments that Xander had made when he had thought nobody was listening.
He felt like it should feel good that somebody who hated him so much was gone… but then a feeling came back to him. A knowledge that even Angelus had shared, had known, the second he had looked at Xander.
He was good. Not just good, but great. All of the famous people in history, many of him he had actually met, had done what they did because it was their job. Their fate. Their sacred duty even. But Xander…
He was a new kind of hero.
His duty had been to live right, go to college, get a home and a dog. Maybe a wife even. And he had known it. He had seen it. Instead he fought; not for the sake of fighting or for glory. Not for duty or fate. Not even because he wanted to.
And he was hardly suicidal.
He did it because… he did. It was that simple. It was right. Somebody had to do it. So he took it upon himself.
It was the ultimate in sacrifices for purity.
"The white knight," he whispered slowly, still looking at the statue.
And with that he began to lead Buffy away. There was nothing more that could be done here.
The white knight knows not of failure
He seeks not redemption, but success
And will not rest his tired bones
Until he's done this test
TBC
