Methos awoke the next day to find Buffy absent from the couch they had fallen asleep on. He checked the answering machine, but found no messages left from either Joe, Richie or Duncan. He had a feeling that they might still be sleeping or just getting to sleep. It was still daylight so the issue of how to find Klossen was not yet immediate. He put off calling them and waking them until he found Buffy and spoke to her first.
The time had come for the two of them to discuss Buffy's future, post-Klossen. He knew that should she defeat him and should she manage to keep the evil in check, decisions would have to be made about what she would do after.
Methos knew it had to be done now, there would be no other time. She had to go back and he had to convince her to. He was the only one who could and he knew that if he didn't do it now, he would never do it. He was a selfish creature at heart and not prone to bouts of good deeds for the sake of it alone. However, the depth of caring he had for this young slayer was stronger than he ever thought it could be. Much as he wanted her to, she could not stay. Her destiny lay elsewhere. She was better than this. She was better than him.
Buffy knew that Methos was awake as soon as she heard him checking the answering machine outside of her bedroom. She had awoken early that morning having barely slept at all, intending to tie up some loose ends before her fight with Klossen. There was a chance she would live, but if she didn't she had to make sure some things were taken care of. She had left Sunnydale, but that didn't mean her friends and family didn't deserve to know what happened to her should she not make it.
She felt horrible for doing it this way but she had no other choice. Calling them was out of the question, however desperately she wanted to hear their voices. This was the only way she could do it and that would have to be enough, however much they may hate her afterwards.
As soon as she finished, she opened the door to the room, only to come face to face with Methos' fist which had been about to knock on her door. She laughed as did he when the mistake was realized and he stepped aside to let her out. She was nervous as she would be asking a favour of him she wasn't sure he would be willing to grant.
"Morning," he said softly. She smiled.
"Afternoon more like it." She corrected.
"You weren't there when I woke up." It was a simple statement, but the look in his eyes told her he had wished she had been. She shrugged slightly, unsure of what to say to that.
"I had to finish some things."
"Such as?"
"Last minute things," she said evasively.
"Buffy…" the tone in his voice told her she couldn't hide anything from him. It was both comforting and frightening at the same time.
"Look Methos I meant what I said about not wanting to die," she said with a sigh. Her hands were trembling and she wasn't sure why. "But if I do lose…I need you to do something for me."
"Anything," he promised her. Buffy liked that he didn't try to assure her not to talk as if she might die. That he accepted the possibility as a reality let her know she had done the right thing in choosing him.
"I want you to go to Sunnydale and I want you to deliver these to my watcher and my mother." She handed him two envelopes with letters she had written to them inside. "The one to my watcher explains most of what has happened. I want you to fill in the blanks for him if he asks for the details. Don't…don't tell my mother everything. It would only hurt her even more. Just…try to reassure her, however you can. They may hate you for it. I'm sorry for that. But I want them to know. Will you…will you do this for me?"
"That's asking a lot," Methos told her an unwanted lump forming in his throat as he thought of telling her friends and loved ones in detail how she died. He didn't care what they may think of him as the messenger, it was the message he hated the idea of. She nodded, understanding just how much she was asking of him.
"You're welcome to read the letters if you need to…if it helps you to know what to tell them. Somebody has to…" she broke off, tears threatening her as well. "Giles will need to know anyway for his chronicles. Beyond that…I owe it to them. Please Methos. I don't want to have to ask Joe or MacLeod to do this, but I will if I have to. It's you I trust. It's you I want to tell them. You're the one who cares…"
"I'll do it," he said, cutting her off before he lost his nerve completely over what he was about to say. "But you have to do something for me."
"What?"
"If you live…" he began not quite sure how to word what he was about to say without hurting her or making her feel unwanted. "If you defeat Klossen and suppress his power….I want you to leave. I want you to go back to Sunnydale."
"What?" The shock in her tone told him she had not been expecting that. She blinked a moment, unsure of how to respond.
"You heard me," he found himself saying. He looked at the ground not wanting to meet her gaze, afraid she might be angry with him or hurt by the suggestion. She wasn't sure what to think. The prospect was both daunting and welcoming all at once. To live through this, to see her friends again, to be welcomed back and to go on with her life…it was a dangerously appealing thought. And Methos wanted it for her.
"Why?" She wasn't sure what his angle was in this, but was certain there was one. He was her friend, had been her only friend. So why did he want her gone?
"Because you don't belong here." He spoke sadly as if the truth of it pained him. It did, but he would not let her know to what extent. "You are the slayer. This isn't your home. Your duty lies elsewhere."
"It's my duty to fight Klossen," she said stubbornly, resisting the idea, even though she would love nothing else than to see her loved ones again. In truth there was a great amount of fear associated with it, fear that she would not be accepted, fear that they would hate her. It was almost easier to think of them reading the letter and not being able to yell at her.
"Yes it is," Methos agreed, "but I don't think that's an accident. I think that this fight was destined not only to test you, but to get you to realize your true power and your true abilities. Only your willingness to fight him would get you to live again. You had to decide it yourself. Nobody could force you. You stepped up. I think on some level you know what I'm saying."
"If you think I wanted this fight you're fruitier than a nutcake!" She found herself exclaiming, suddenly angry at his logic.
"Wanted? No. Needed? Yes. Whether you like it or not, your destiny will find you, we both know that." His voice dropped and became gentle once more. A wave of tenderness overwhelmed him as he saw the fear in her eyes, a fear he no longer saw as a weakness. Vulnerability is her greatest asset he realized. It will keep her alive. "There's nothing for you here. No battles to fight, no people to save. You need to live in the world you were meant for, of vampires and demons…not immortals and men. I'll deliver your letter if you die, I promise you. But if you live I want you to go. I want you to do what you were meant to do."
"What if…" her voice broke off weakly as a tear slipped down her cheek, unbidden. "What if they don't want me back?"
And there it was out in the open; her true fear. Before the memories of Angel and of the pain she had suffered there were what kept her from returning, but gradually as the anguish of what she had done began to fade and a comfortability with her new life set in, it became more about fear of their hatred and anger, than anything else. The idea that they might hate her for what she had done and that she would deserve it hurt her more than she could say.
Methos wasn't sure how to comfort her. He didn't know her friends, couldn't say for sure that they would accept her and yet something inside him told him they would. Taking her hands in his, he squeezed them gently and met her eyes.
"They will." It was all he could think to say. It was enough apparently because upon hearing it, the slayer leaned into his embrace shaking slightly.
"I miss them," she confessed, her voice muffled in the thickness of his fisherman's sweater. "I think about them everyday. I don't know how they could ever forgive me for just leaving the way I did. They don't even know I'm alive."
"Then don't die." Methos told her. "Stay alive. Defeat Klossen and go back to them. They may not welcome you at first, but you have to try. You have to be prepared to accept whatever anger they have towards you."
"I know," she said with a nod as she stepped back and wiped her eyes slightly. "I think some part of me always knew I would go back."
"They'll understand if you're honest with them." Methos encouraged gently. "Tell them about Angel, make sure they know how much you were hurting."
"I don't know if I can do that," she admitted. "I don't know if I can talk about him to them…I don't know if I can tell Willow to her face that her spell worked. It's in the letter, but…"
"You can and you will." He said firmly. He smiled. "Remember, always remember that you are stronger than you think."
"I'll miss you Methos," she told him seriously. "I don't know if I deserve all the faith you have in me, but I will try my best to live up to it."
"We'll need to call Joe and the others today." Methos told her, choosing not to dwell on what she had just said to him, lest he admit his feelings to her in full and destroy the hard-won trust. "We need to find out how to locate Klossen."
"We will." She said with a firm nod. "However, if you don't mind I think I'm gonna take a quick walk around the block and clear my head. Going home…it's a lot to think about."
"I'll be here." Was all he said as she grabbed a light jacket and left the apartment. As soon as she had gone, he looked down to the letters she had given him. She had told him he could read them and yet something in him hesitated. What would they say about him? About her experience here?
Eventually curiosity got the better of him and with shaking hands, he opened the first one, addressed to her watcher and began to read…
