Part 7
"Sometimes you bury secrets inside yourself and hide them from the world; you think they're only yours and no one knows them, but then one day someone so powerful shows himself and sees through you and you have nothing left to hide and all that's left is the bareness of your own soul"
"Wesley, when did you see her?" Cordy asked from the kneeling position she had taken in front of the boy. It was morning and everyone was gathered in the lobby, back to researching. They had decided it was best to take Wesley out of kindergarten for the day, so he could tell them what he had seen.
"Yesterday, at school," the little boy said.
"Why didn't you say something earlier?" Wesley asked next to Cordelia.
"I…I don't know. Something didn't want me to tell you. I only had to tell Buffy, that's what I felt all the time," the boy said looking up. "I couldn't even tell uncle Lorne. I even sang a little, I wanted him to know, but he didn't hear it."
"Why didn't you tell me earlier, when you were alone, watching TV?" Buffy asked, her face still tear stained.
"I…I…don't know," the boy simply said. He was confused by the things he had felt himself. Usually he knew what he felt.
"Tell us what happened," Angel said softly bringing him back to what had happened the previous day.
"I went to the bathroom and then it got all dark. I couldn't see anything, it was like it never ended and then there was a light and I heard a song. It was Fatima. I knew it was her, before I heard that lady call her by her name. I know her, daddy," he said looking up at his father.
"Where from?" Buffy asked while Faith and Angel shared a worried look.
"Go on," Faith told him giving Buffy a look that meant she'd explain later.
"She said I should tell you the slayer lady takes care of her and then she called her, that lady," the boy added. "And she left with her."
"The slayer lady?" Wesley asked intrigued.
"Did you see her? This slayer lady?" Fred asked leaning down on the cushions.
"Barely. I saw a strange woman, painted, she didn't look human, she walked like a monkey," the boy said.
"I didn't see anything like that," Buffy was beginning to panic again.
"She was…you…" the boy didn't know if he should say the rest.
"What is it?" Buffy asked putting away her concern for just a second to clear the boy's confusion.
"But you did. See her," little Wesley said looking up.
"I didn't see any painted girl, Wes," Buffy said and the boy shook his head.
"Not now. Then," little Wes said and the others didn't seem to understand.
"Then?" Buffy asked puzzled.
"When did she see her?" Fred asked.
"A long time ago. In Sunnydale," the boy simply said. There was a long silence while Buffy tried to remember this painted woman.
"I…I can't remember," Buffy said after a while. "Did I fight her?" she looked towards the boy for an answer.
"No. You were her," the boy said, but after a moment decided to add: "You fought yourself."
"I fought myself…when… which…" Buffy started saying, she had fought herself so many times and in so many ways and shapes she couldn't tell which one it was when someone pointed it out.
"You don't remember…" little Wesley said disappointed. He sighed his little chest moving up, taking in a big breath of air. "I don't understand. When you were up there, in Aunt Fred's room, you remembered her."
"Stop talking in riddles. Just tell me who it is," Buffy's head seemed to spin, little Wesley's words making her dizzy, all those where's and who's floating in her mind.
"I'll do more then that. I'll show you," the boy said and Buffy fell, Angel barely managing to catch her before she did.
Time seemed to flow backwards and the memories were ripped out of her mind and heart, leaving her, once again empty and unsure of the future that was expecting her over the years. For some reason, it put a part of her at ease and she seemed happy here, somewhere deep in her own past, unaware of what was to come. She felt a strange desire of going back even more, to her childhood, the childhood before Dawn, before the ends she had lived in her life and sins and betrayal she had committed for the world. She wanted to be free, but time wouldn't go back anymore, it had stopped, in the hell that had been most of her life, in Sunnydale, in the house she had lived in as a teenager and later as an adult. She seemed to float above it and then through it inside the living room, where four so familiar people slept. Xander with the popcorn in his arms, Willow by his side and Giles…god, Giles, asleep in an armchair and there she herself sat, asleep and she knew somewhere, upstairs, her mother slept, so alive and her heart cried out for just one glance. She looked back down at her own tranquil face for a moment before she entered inside her dream world and found herself in the middle of a dessert.
"You think you know what's coming…" Tara's voice rang in her ears and she looked around trying to see her, but something jumped her. She fell, rolling down the sand dune with the woman still straddling her. Then suddenly, she was gone. She was still in that dessert, but this time it was real, not in her mind. It was night now and somewhere close a fire burnt and someone danced near it.
"Death is your gift," the voice of the prime slayer was heard and then it softened and turned into little Wesley's voice. "Death is your gift," he said again, only now for the first time the words seeming real. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at the boy, that was now clutching Cordelia's skirt.
"Buffy, Buffy, are you okay?" Angel asked rising her off the floor where he had set her down.
"Yes, death is my gift," Buffy said standing up, shook up.
"What are you talking about?" Wesley asked confused by all that had happened. "What are you both talking about?" he looked back and forward between her and the boy.
"I know who this painted lady is," Buffy said nervously arranging her hair.
"So who is it?" Gunn asked curios.
"A Slayer. The first slayer," Buffy said.
"First slayer?" Faith asked surprised.
"I called on her once. On her power to destroy something I couldn't do myself. She…she haunted me, us, but then she was gone. And then a year later I searched for answers and they were shown through her. She spoke to me. She told me death was my gift," Buffy said.
"Talk about spirits giving you downers," Gunn noted.
"Did it make any sense in the end?" Cordy asked somewhat pensive.
"Oh, yeah. Remember when I killed myself?" Buffy asked.
"Oh," Cordy let out.
"This rules out the two slayer spirits theory. I think there's more to this then just ghosts," Wesley said trying to make out another possibility.
"But what?" Angel asked looking at his son for a moment before focusing back on their current problem.
"Well, until now, we know that uhm, three slayers are a part of this… entity," Wesley said pacing in front of them.
"But we don't know if that's all there is to it," Cordy continued. "Or what else is a part of it."
"Or what the hell does it want," Gunn finished.
"It has to have a reason. It doesn't just go and attack you randomly. Technically attacking," Fred said.
"It's personal. And there's nothing more personal for a slayer then another slayer," Faith noted.
"Oh, wait a minute," Fred said putting a hand up. "Remember what you said yesterday?" she addressed Faith. "About slayers feeling mocked because Buffy abandoned slaying?"
"Yeah, but that was just a theory," Faith said sitting down, while her son approached her, and quietly sat down next to her.
"Well I've got another one. Let's think about it. All the slayers had rules, right? Listen to the watcher, don't attach to anyone else, fight and be ready to die for the world. And so did you two. Except you didn't follow them. I mean you did follow them, but not by the book," Fred was already pacing while enthusiastically sharing her theory. "But no one held that against you as long as you did your job right. Then Buffy dies, she saves the world through it, and she becomes one of the slayer-heroes who sacrificed herself. Just another link in a long chain. But she's brought back even though she was suppose to remain dead. It's like this whole chain breaking apart. The harmony's gone."
"And that would be enough to piss a slayer off?" Faith asked while little Wesley watched the conversation fascinated.
"Buffy was the first slayer who really changed everything," Wesley said. "First of all she didn't keep her identity a secret…and she had friends."
"Yeah, that saved me a lot of times," Buffy said melancholically. "Spike told me once…" she hesitated for a moment. "Told me that I only lasted as long as I did because I had friends and a family."
"That's probably true," Wesley said gently. "And your fighting techniques were different. You fell in love with a vampire, which was never heard of," he chuckled slightly, remembering the commotion that piece of news had stirred back at the Watcher's Council. "In the end, you probably taught your watcher more things than he had taught you. You actually quit your 'job' from the Council. You changed a lot of things."
"Yeah, I did. But why me? Why not Faith? She's done at least half the things I've done, maybe worse," Buffy said. "No offense," she told Faith.
"None taken," Faith said.
"Because most of the things Faith did were after the Council, well, let's say fired her," Wesley said.
"Fired me, sent in a death squad, what ever," Faith said remembering the time she had fled trough LA trying to save her own life.
"She's officially erased from the record. As much as they're concerned, Faith was never a slayer, she was never called. They burnt any records that concerned her," Wesley said.
"They took away your strength?" Buffy looked over at Faith.
"Nope. They can't take it back. So now I'm no slayer, I'm just a freak of nature," Faith said, not minding the expression she had used to describe herself.
"I don't get it. I didn't work for the Council either, doesn't that mean I'm not a slayer anymore?" Buffy asked confused.
"There was a period you weren't, but when you died, you worked for the Council," Wesley reminded her.
"How do you know?" Buffy asked suddenly remembering that she had started working for the Council again so she could get information on Glory.
"We had a case and I asked the Council for help. They didn't want to take my call. Luckily I had a friend there who owed me a favor. He told me about you working for them again," Wesley said. "When you died, you were an official slayer which means that when you came back you were still a slayer, belonging to the Council. The fact that they probably don't consider you the slayer anymore doesn't change the fact that you were and are the slayer. And what ever happened to you after you died is still apart of your slayer life, because even though they called a new one, you were not absolved of your slayer duties," Wes finished his explanation.
"Why didn't they cancel her as a slayer?" Cordy asked her mind spinning from all the explanations.
"Because she earned a place between the slayers even if she fled in the end. She never did anything that might be considered shameful or something that might've stained the honor the Council feels needed in a slayer. Like say murder of an innocent," Wes looked at Faith who was beginning to feel uncomfortable in the middle of a discussion concerning shame, honor and the values of a slayer. "She's probably marked as lost in battle or that her body was never found. They don't confirm deaths that never took place just so they could come out with a clean record."
"But they choose the closest thing to it," Angel noted standing up.
"Precisely," Wesley said smiling.
"Okay, so let me get this straight. Three slayers are after Buffy because they're jealous that she got to do all the things they wanted to do, but didn't?" Cordy asked puzzled.
"What if it's all the slayers?" Fred suddenly asked and everyone looked towards her. "Wouldn't it make more sense? Why just three slayers, among which the first, would suddenly get jealous? And the nightmares would confirm that's not just three slayers we're dealing with."
"The first doesn't have to be something out of the ordinary. She's probably just still pissed she lost her fight with Buffy," Cordy said. "Besides why would she be jealous of Buffy? Because she didn't get to hang with the other cave girls? That she was forced to kill? Which she probably did anyway because she needed food."
"I don't think it's about the things they never managed to do," Fred said.
"Then what?" Cordy asked.
"If you think about it…would you come back from the beyond to haunt someone cause they did something you wanted to do in your life? It's ridiculous," Fred said.
"Good point," Wesley said sitting down. "So what are you suggesting?"
"Ethics. Like Faith said. Buffy left their righteous cause, she fled from her duties, which, without the intention, mocked the whole slayer kind," Fred said satisfied with what she had stated.
"Okay I get it, I offended a bunch of dead slayers, but why go after my daughter? Why didn't they just try to kill me and get it over it?" Buffy asked sighing, her head was hurting from all the sudden explanations that didn't really go anywhere.
"Obviously they would never try to kill you," Wesley dismissed the idea.
"Why not?" Buffy asked a little annoyed. She just wanted a simple answer, to fight a demon, get her daughter back and then her life would have a meaning again.
"Slayers don't kill humans, B, not the good ones anyway," Faith said and the boy bit his lip.
"You're a good slayer, mom," the boy told her and she smiled. A sad smile. "You are to me."
Faith didn't say a word, she just held on to that somewhat bitter smile for a few moments before returning to the conversation.
"She's right," Wesley agreed with her.
"Does that mean she's not in danger?" Buffy asked a clear hope in her voice.
"It's just a theory, Buffy. We can't be sure," Angel said while Buffy's hope seemed to vanish as fast as it had appeared.
"But if they won't hurt her, what would they want with her? Why would they take her away from me? She's just a child," Buffy said tears filling her eyes as the despair seemed to take over again.
"A lot of things," Angel said and everyone except Buffy and little Wes knew what he was thinking. There was a long moment of silence, everyone seeming lost in the past and the events that had crushed them for a while, then Angel spoke: "They can turn her against you."
"They…they…couldn't…" Buffy managed to mumble.
"They don't consider you worthy of being the slayer, and maybe not even a mother," Wesley said feeling like most of the people in the room, a painful deja-vu.
"But…ghosts can't raise children…" Buffy trailed off.
"We'll get her back, we'll find her," Gunn assured her while he gave Wesley a look that meant, give it a rest, we'll talk about it later.
"You should get some rest," Cordy stepped in.
"I don't want to get any freakin' rest, I want my daughter back!" Buffy burst into tears.
"We're still here, researching and when you wake up we'll have an answer," Fred told her trying to calm her down.
"You're not of any good to us like this," Faith told her, but Buffy didn't want to hear it. Little Wesley stood up and stopped in front of the slayer, his eyes staring into hers.
"Sleep," he simply said and Buffy fell limp in Fred's arms who had been sitting next to her.
"That was helpful," Gunn said not managing to hold back a small smile.
"Help!" Fred barely managed to hold Buffy on her feet. Wesley quickly caught the passed out slayer. "We should take her up to her room."
"Not that room," Angel said. "That's where she had the nightmares."
"Take her to my room," Cordy immediately said.
"I think I'm going to sleep too," little Wesley said, he wanted to avoid the questions for now. "I didn't sleep much yesterday."
"Okay, honey, momy'll take you up," Faith stood up taking her son into her arms. She climbed upstairs. Everyone watched her, not daring to ask anything once the boy had disappeared.
"I'll take her up," Angel said taking Buffy from Wesley's arms. When he was gone, Gunn let out the question everyone had on their lips:
"What the hell happened? I thought it's suppose to show only when he was older."
"I guess the Oracles aren't all that accurate anymore," Cordy said sighing. "This is getting way too complicated. With Buffy I mean."
"Yes, I don't know if we can really help her. Not unless we get some kind of precise spot," Wesley said. "Since they're ghosts they can be anywhere from next door to China and that's if you don't count other dimensions."
"We have to help her somehow," Fred said feeling sorry for the slayer and remembering Angel's sorrow over the loss of his first son.
"I'm gonna' check in with the Oracles," Cordy said.
"You think you should? After last time…" Gunn reminded her of a very unpleasant meeting she had with the Oracles for one of their clients a few months ago, that had ended with an actual un-intentional fight – Cordy had been so angry she had thrown the Oracles across their temple – which of course ended up with Cordy being turned in a mouse for a day.
"Well, let's just hope they're not angry anymore. I'd hate to spend another day eating cheese in a cage," Cordy said. She knew they had no chance of helping Buffy out without a little divine intervention.
"Are you angry with me?" the boy asked her mother as she tucked him in.
"I could never be angry with you," Faith said gently stroking his hair. "You're my baby, aren't you?"
"Yeah…" he hesitated for a moment. "But… aren't you mad because I didn't tell you?"
"No, I'm just a little upset you thought you couldn't trust us," Faith said smiling.
"I did want to tell you, a lot of times! I did… I was just scared that…that you wouldn't love me anymore," the boy said. Faith laughed. A comforting, warm laughter.
"I could never stop loving you. And don't you forget that, no matter what you'll do in your life, you'll always be my son and I'll always love you, okay?" she said and the boy stood up and hugged her. "Besides our little family is anything but normal."
"I love you, mom," the boy said.
"I love you too," Faith said, a smile crossing her lips, not hiding any anger, evilness or sadness behind it, just a simple happy smile. "Now, rest," she tucked him in again. She was about to leave when the boy said:
"Tell me a story," she turned back towards him and even though she knew there were problems more urgent to attend to, she sat back down on the edge of the bed.
"What kind of story?" she asked.
"A scary story with a happy end," the boy said, he loved his mother's stories.
"Okay, there was once a vampire, a very evil vampire. He was so old that his hands and feet were split in three and he always had that ugly vampire face on. He liked to kill slayers, but one day he met one who wasn't all that easy to kill, she had an edge…"
He put her down on Cordelia's bed, thinking how ironic it was that the only moment they were alone, she was passed out. Why was she so afraid to talk to him? He didn't understand. Maybe he was scary in some way, so different she couldn't recognize the Angel she knew anymore. Thinking back to Sunnydale and then across the years and all the events that had scarred him in so many different ways, he realized he was a different man from the one she had fallen in love with. He had gone through so many stages, he had seen other worlds, dealt so many times with his own fears and past, he had known great pain and lost someone close to his heart and yes, he had found out love existed beyond the image of his first love. He looked back down at her and pulled the hair from her face. 'Poor thing' he thought while he wiped away the tears that still fell down her face.
"Fatima…" she mouthed in her sleep turning away from him. He wondered where her daughter was and he hoped he would get her back for her. It was the least he could do for her after all she had done for him. He watched her for a moment. A smile crossed his lips remembering the many times he had watched her sleep.
"God…" he let out, his head seemed to hurt whenever he tried to recall that period of his life. It was so distant. Then again his head always hurt when he thought mostly of the last decade, the rest he could remember with astonishing clarity, every brutal detail of his demon, it always made his soul cry, but it was never overwhelming, but those last ten years…an on slaught tornado of pain and happiness. It had all started in a back alley a long long time ago and had yet to end. He stood there on the edge of that bed and began remembering everything from that day on, for the first time trying not to feel the headache, because she was there and she was alive and that was all that mattered. Life.
He was somewhere in a room, a dark room with many doors. He opened one and saw a low bed, the kind the Japanese had and next to it a girl stood, young, beautiful, combing her hair in front of a mirror. She turned and smiled at him, bowing her head slightly. He smiled back before closing the door and going back into the black room. He was trying to figure out what he was looking for when he heard the voices. Two child-like voices singing, their hands clapping together in a game. He followed the sound down a darker corridor. He went past many doors, knowing there was nothing inside that would interest him.
He stopped in front of a door, cheerfully painted in rainbow colors. He made a little grimace, he didn't like painted rainbows, only the real ones, they were magic to him. He opened the door. It wasn't a room, there were no walls just an endless plane. It wasn't sunny though, it was dark, like everything in that world. He spotted the two little girls playing their game while singing a little farther away from him. They stopped when they saw him. He recognized Fatima instantly. The other girl he didn't know. She let go of Fatima's hand and disappeared into the darkness.
"Why am I here?" he asked and Fatima sat down on the grass not minding that her white dress might get stained.
"You don't know," she said disappointed. "Maybe this is a mistake" she stood up and she was about to walk away.
"Don't go" the boy said and the girl stopped.
"Why?" she asked.
"I don't want to be alone in the dark. It's scary," little Wesley said.
"You're not afraid of the dark," the girl reminded him, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Yes I am" he lied.
"Don't try to lie to me. You know I can see inside you," the girl warned him.
"But there is a reason you called me here. That I know" he said sitting down on the grass in front of her.
"You know a lot of things" she said sitting back down.
"So do you. But we know different things" the boy said and after a moment he added: "I thought you were normal."
"So what? I'm not smart like you?" the girl was about to stand up again but oddly found herself enable to move. "Stop doing that."
"You are normal" Wesley realized.
"For now" Fatima said letting go of the idea of standing up. "I don't know if I still am. They said something…"
"The slayers?"
"How do you know about them? I thought I only told you about the slayer lady" Fatima asked confused.
"Your mom found that out" Wesley said.
"Is she okay?" Fatima asked hesitating for a moment.
"She's sad and worried and scared. You have to come back" he told her.
"I…I miss her too, but they take care of me and they play with me…and they make me dresses and they showed me so many things! Things like…like in the fairy tales. I don't want to go back" Fatima said wishing there was some way her mother could be there too, but strangely Wesley was the only person she could communicate with. Why she didn't understand.
"There's magic out in the world too. You just don't know about it," Wes told her. "It's not all good, but it's there."
"I know, but I don't want the bad one, I just want the good one" Fatima said. "I don't want the monsters that killed them, I don't want the magic that brought them to their graves."
"You're a baby," Wesley said, cross.
"Why? Is it really that wrong to want to live here?" Fatima asked trying to tempt him to this world.
"I don't want to be anywhere where they're not," Wesley told her. "That's why you're still a baby. You don't know how much you can hurt people by disappearing."
"You think you're so smart. So great. You don't know anything. You think they love you?" she stood up and began pacing in front of him. "You?" she repeated in a mocking voice. "You don't even know what you are. You're a little monster and you didn't tell them that, did you? Do you think they can love you? They don't love you. They loved him, not you," a shadow of a young man appeared behind her.
"Words can't hurt me," the boy didn't move from the ground. "Whatever you say" he shook his head. "I know better. I might be a monster, but I can see inside your soul. As for him," he looked at the shadow behind her. "Connor," the shadow took the form of Angel's first son. "A long time ago, he mattered" Connor disappeared. "Why did you call me here?"
"I wanted you to stay with me…"
"I can't. I don't want to be here," the boy cut her off.
"Why? You're different too. You want to stay out there and be called names just because you're different? You're magic. Like me," Fatima said looking down at him.
"No one called me names" the boy said.
"Not yet. You go to a special school, for special children. They're not aloud to, because they're all different."
"I don't care. I like my school. My family's different."
"Not like you," Fatima assured him.
"Why me?" little Wesley suddenly asked.
"You're the only one I could get to. From here. I can see inside you. It's strange."
"In the beginning, but it'll pass, with the time."
"You feel this all the time?"
"Not anymore."
"Explain to me what's happening. Where am I? Why do I know so much?"
"I don't know. No one told me either. I was born this way I guess."
"And I was made."
"You want to go home?"
"I don't know. Home just doesn't feel like it's suppose to anymore. You have to go"
"But…" he wanted to talk to her a little more.
"They say that if you stay here longer, you'll be here forever," Fatima said turning away from him for a moment to hear what the voices were whispering.
"How do I leave?" he asked.
"Just close your eyes," the girl smiled. "I wish you would've stayed with me. Maybe I'll see you again."
"I know I will," the boy said before closing his eyes. When he opened them he was staring at the door of his own room. He was sitting down on the floor. "What now?" he asked himself while he got up.
"Where are you going?" Angel asked when he saw Cordy had her jacket on and was about to head for the door.
"I'm going to see the Oracles," Cordy said.
"No, you don't" Angel beat her to the door.
"Look, we've been through all kind of possibilities and this is the only one that makes any sense at all," Cordy said. She had expected this to happen.
"Angel, we've talked and we agreed that…" Wesley started, but Angel cut him off.
"Well we're gonna' talk some more," he said grabbing Cordy by the hand and dragging her back to the couch.
"Au!" Cordy hit him over the shoulder before rubbing her sore wrist. "You don't need to get rough."
"Statistically speaking, if we don't get the littlest clue, are chances are one to more then a billion, not counting all the geographical spots on the planet or the few millions of dimensions out there," Fred said sighing.
"I know what you're thinking…" Wesley started, knowing Angel was somehow linking Fatima's kidnapping with that of Connor. "But then we knew where he was, now we don't know a thing, besides the fact that it has something to do with slayers. I think they didn't take her out of this world and probably no harm came to her."
"Then I'm going to the Oracles," Angel said.
"You're banned from the Oracles, remember?" Cordy reminded him.
"Interesting how you can be the champion for the Powers That Be and not have access to their Oracles," Angel said.
"I get them. Last time you turned you burnt down what was it? Four? Five of their temples?" Gunn asked.
"Yeah and since no one here is considered a warrior, an official one anyway, except me…" Cordy said, while Faith climbed downstairs pretty much understanding what they were arguing about.
"You can't beat that," Faith said smiling. "Let her go," she told Angel. "Just make sure you don't come back a rat again, cause I'll kick your fury little behind if you do, okay?"
"What a comforting thought," Cordy said before leaving.
"Ten to one, I say she doesn't stand a chance," Gunn said once the door was shut behind her. "Do we still have that little cage?"
"Yeah. Heaven sakes we didn't keep that cat," Fred said.
"Well, that's only because it turned out to be a metamorphosing demon," Wesley reminded her.
"Oh, yeah," Fred said suddenly remembering.
"Don't get the rat cages out just yet, she might just make it," Faith said smiling.
"Hello?" Cordy said walking into the temple after she had been thrown inside by the portal.
"Oh, look, it's the vicious little one," the female Oracle said, slightly amused. "What do you want from us?"
"Do you miss being a mouse?" the male Oracle asked.
"I know we had our differences…" Cordy started.
"Differences? Is that what you call violence in a sacred place?" the woman asked.
"That's beyond the point…"
"Whose point?" the male Oracle cut her off.
"What point?" the woman joined in.
"People…warriors come here for help…"
"Precisely. Why didn't you search for the same?" the male Oracle interrupted her again.
"I need help. I didn't want to come, but someone needs help. Someone close to me," Cordy said finally managing to finish a phrase.
"Your vampire friend?" the female Oracle asked. "And we wondered where you got such rude manners from."
"No, it's not about him," Cordy ignored her comment. "An older friend. A slayer."
"The old one, the oldest," the female oracle sang.
"Yeah. Her daughter is missing. Where is she?" Cordy asked.
"Such things, they're not for us to tell" the male oracle said. "But you have to understand, it's not about the little girl."
"It's the mother," the woman said. "They don't really want the girl. They want the mother to come to them."
"Where are they?" Cordy asked. "Cause if they're suppose to leave some kind of trail for her to follow they're doing a horrible job at it."
"To find them she has to see herself again, her roots," the male Oracle said.
"Her roots are the way to her daughter. She'll find her only listening to her blood," the female Oracle said.
"We have answered your questions, now leave," the male Oracle added.
"That's it?" Cordy asked, but before she could say anything else she found herself back in the hallway of the post office. "Well that was a big freakin' help! Thank you!" she yelled angry.
"She's not a rat. That's a good sign," Fred said as Cordy came in the lobby.
"Well?" Angel asked relieved she had made it out safe.
"Not really much help. You know how they are. They work in mysterious ways and unfortunately talk just as mysteriously. Basically they mentioned something about her roots. The slayers are after her, not her daughter and they're using her as bait. That's what I got out of it," Cordy said.
"So about the roots?" Wesley asked pondering the possibilities.
"Once she goes back to her roots she'll be able to find them," Cordy said sitting down and rubbing her sore back.
"Her roots…Sunnydale," Gunn immediately jumped.
"That would make sense, if they meant it literally," Cordy said. "Her initial roots would be in LA though, where she was born, then Sunnydale."
"What if it's the root of all slayers? The Slayer's Council or where ever the first slayer appeared," Faith suggested.
"At least we have it narrowed down," Fred pointed out.
"If she's suppose to find her daughter, she's the one who has to find an answer, not us," Wesley concluded.
"Fine, so we wait for her to wake up, then we'll see where we go from here," Gunn said.
"We're definitely making progress," Wesley stated satisfied.
"You think we should wake her up?" Faith asked sighing.
"No, let her sleep," Angel said. "She needs to rest and we have some urgent cases to attend to. And unfortunately we're the only ones who can handle them."
"God. Why don't people get a clue and build another agency? But no, they rather be fighting in the streets cause that's way cooler," Cordy protested. "So what do we have?"
"A vampire's nest two streets down from the theater, your theater," Angel looked over at Cordy. "Something slimy's been growing in the kitchen at Pedro's Pizza Palace. Probably a Veska laid its eggs there and they're about to hatch."
"And a couple conjured up a Gahni demon and now he's become a bit of a pest," Wesley remembered. "They came yesterday, but in all the commotion I forgot to mention it."
"We'll have to split up. Me and Faith, we'll hit the nest. Cordy and Gunn can handle the Gahni and Wes can go after the Veska, I don't think they're hatched yet, so you won't have any problems."
"What about me?" Fred asked.
"Someone has to stay here. To watch over Buffy and Wes," Angel said.
"Dennis is here," Fred protested.
"Yeah, but Dennis can't call in case of trouble," Angel reminded her.
"But if anyone's having a hard time, call, okay?" Fred gave up and let them leave. "I guess it's just you and me, Dennis" she said sighing. The ghost pulled up a chair for her in sign of agreement. "How about some poker? If you promise not to peak."
"So you see, I didn't stand a chance!" the girl paced around the room, her dress moving gently around her hips as she walked. "I was alone among them…" she sighed. "Three were coming from the left, two in front of me, and the leader was behind me. In the beginning I thought I could fight them off, but they were stronger, stronger then I had ever known. I think they drank some kind of potion to make them invincible. I couldn't beat them and Ralph was upset with me and I just…" she laughed. "Well died," her short laughter had disappeared as fast as it had appeared. "When I was falling I just thought, it's all a nightmare, my dad would wake me up in the morning. 'Wake up sleepy head' he'd say and I'd put my pillow on my head and ask for five more minutes. And then he'd tell me 'You think Jackie asks for five more minutes?' and I'd get up immediately. Jackie Kennedy was my role model. She was so pretty" she played absently with the pearls around her neck. "Did you have a role model?" she looked down at the sleeping slayer. "Of course not, you were too strong to have a role model. Strong people don't need role models. Weak ones do. I guess I was weak. Poor Ralph, crying over my grave for days. He stood in the sun and in the rain and got pneumonia and didn't care," she sighed again as her body seemed to float above the floor, just a few inches and she morphed into another girl, taller this time, with dark hair and big cold blue eyes. She made a disgusted grimace at the emotional confession of the previous slayer.
"I was the rose of Russia. Every demon feared my name. Katiuska. Everybody knew it in mighty Sankt Petersburg and everything evil trembled in front me and the people… they loved me because I kept them safe. I was their champion. One day a man came to us, a simple man we thought, but this was no ordinary man…"
Sankt Petersburg
1736
"He lies," Katiuska paced in front of her watcher.
"I told you not to consider yourself invincible," the watcher said rubbing his tired eyes.
"Written words! Ah! How can you believe in such nonsense?" she said exasperated.
"They're prophecies, they foretold the deaths of many slayers before you, you can't just ignore it," William Brown looked at the parchment neatly folded on the table.
"I won't fear words!" Katiuska hit the table with her fist.
"Maybe we can prevented it… Somehow" he tried to convince himself more then his slayer.
"Be sure we will…" the slayer said.
"Well?" the tall slim man that had brought them the prophecies entered the room. He had thin lips that barely moved when he spoke. His eyes were strange though, flickering in all directions, never standing still as if they never belonged to that body.
"But you see it wasn't just the eyes, when he moved, he was like a serpent, slithering along the way. I thought he was a demon, but when Will recognized him as an old friend, I thought it was just my imagination, that he always walked like that. But I was right from the very beginning…"
1736
Sankt Petersburg
She was coming back from slaying. She hadn't encountered much, just a few freshly risen vampires. She would've wanted more, she needed something more tonight, a bigger challenge to show her she was still invincible and that prophecies were just fairytales, but unfortunately three vampires was all she got.
She entered the little house lost in thought. 'What if the prophecies were right? What then?' She smiled when she saw her watcher with his head on the table and a wooden cup in his hand, the vodka bottle resting near it.
"You and your old camarad had many things to catch up with, no?" she shook her head when her watcher didn't answer. "Englishmen! One cup of vodka and they're done with. Up you go," she rose the body of her watcher in her arms. "Time to get you to bed."
She dragged him to his bed, only then noticing he was cold, his face so pale.
"Will!" she tried to wake him up. "Will! Will!" she slapped him across the face, she pored cold water over him, but no response, he was dead. "Wake up, old man, don't leave me now."
"I'm afraid, our English friend does not take vodka well," the tall man slithered out of the shadows. "I do not blame him… I wouldn't take arsenic well either."
"You!" Katiuska left the side of her dead watcher and advanced menacingly towards the man. "You will die for this!"
"Would you kill a man, little slayer?" he asked, while he touched the finger tips of his hands together. It was enough for Katiuska to notice the skin cracked on his fingers and the green skin that hid behind it.
"You are not human!" she attacked with a rage uncommon for her. Usually she was a calm, calculated person.
"He had killed Will's friend after he found out he was the keeper of the prophecies. He dressed in his skin and came to us," for the first time there was hesitation in her strong voice. "I was a slayer for…almost five years. I don't know why I lost, I don't think he was stronger… I don't think so. They told me it was written. Words!" she made a laughing sound before her form disappeared and was replaced by another.
A sad smile crossed the figure's lips. She paced for a moment, undecided on what she wanted to say. She moved towards the bed, taking a big unnecessary breath of air - she wasn't use to not breathing just yet. Looking down at the slayer, she recalled her memories of her and felt like saying so many things, but instead she simply said:
"Hi, Buffy."
"Kendra?" Buffy suddenly stood up in time to see her fade away. Just the mentioning of her name and her frail image had caused a shock to pass through her body, recalling the slayer of who's death she held herself responsible. "Kendra?" she asked again, but the shadow was gone.
End Part 7