Author's Note: Did something to my ankle. In some pain, now. Updates might be slower or less good while I recover.
Like this story. A lot. You'll notice bits that I got directly from the Buffy show, but snuck into the middle are little parts that are my own. Particularly when Buffy mentions what she's worked out about her alter-ego to Giles, and Giles completely fails to understand - I like that part.
You can also see the exact moment where Buffy makes the choice not to be Elizabeth. Where you see the difference in the two characters.
This turned out very poetically, having a quest at the beginning and a quest at the end.
(Only three stories left in the series, now. "Endgame" and the two epilogues (there are 2 because the first one was really depressing).)
Enjoy!
Quest
.
"To slay. To kill," Buffy told Giles. "It means… being hard on the inside. Maybe… being the perfect Slayer means being too hard to love at all." She glanced out the window. "I already feel like I can hardly say the words."
Giles took off his glasses. "Buffy—"
"Giles," Buffy cut in, snapping her eyes back to him. "I love you."
Giles blinked, clearly taken aback. He opened his mouth to say something, then realized he had no words, and shut it.
Buffy made a face. "Love," she repeated. "Love, love, love, love, love! See, Giles? It feels strange!"
Giles raised his eyebrows, putting his glasses back on his face. "I shouldn't wonder."
Buffy sat down beside her sister, a hand around Dawn's shoulders. She looked into her eyes. "I love you, Dawn," she said. "You know that, right?"
"Yeah," said Dawn, a little confused. "I love you, too."
"No, I love you," Buffy tried again. "Really. Love you."
Dawn gave an uneasy laugh. "Okay… gettin' weird, here."
"Willow," said Buffy, "I love you."
Willow froze, still bent over the book she was studying in the Magic Box. "Well, yeah, okay," she said. "That's great, Buffy."
"No, Will," Buffy tried again. "I love you."
Willow fidgeted in place. "Okay," she said. "Is this, like, a platonic thing, still? Because… if we're going into girlfriend territory, then I've got to warn you, Tara's going to be a little angry."
"Xander," said Buffy. "I love you."
Xander blinked at her. Then looked down at Anya, who was at his side. "You know, you could have had better timing. Like, say, three or four years ago."
"You can't love Xander," Anya snapped. "He's mine!" She gave Buffy an evil stare. "Hands off Xander."
"I… I'm just… starting to feel uneasy about stuff," Buffy admitted to Giles, sitting down on the living room couch, her hands folded in her lap.
"Stuff?" asked Giles, sitting beside her.
"Training, Slaying, all of it," said Buffy, staring down at her hands. "It's just… I mean, I can beat up the demons until the cows come home. And then I can beat up the cows. But… I'm not sure I like… what it's doing to me."
"But you've mastered so much," said Giles. "I mean, your strength and resilience alone—"
"Yeah," said Buffy, nodding. "Strength, resilience. Those are all words for hardness." She stared off into the distance, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. "I'm starting to feel like being the Slayer is turning me into stone."
Giles shook his head. "Turning you into stone? Buffy…"
"Just… think about it!" said Buffy, getting up from the couch. "I was never there for Riley. Not like I was for Angel. I was terrible to Dawn."
"But at a time like this—" Giles began.
"No," Buffy cut in.
"—you're bound to feel emotionally numb," Giles continued.
"Before that," Buffy said. "I've been shut down, Giles. And because of that, everyone's left. Riley's gone. The Doctor barely shows up anymore. Now my Mom is gone, and…" Buffy gazed down at the floor, her voice coming out choked and quiet, "…and I loved her more than anything." She gave a small shrug. "And… I don't know if she knew."
Giles got up off the couch. "Oh, she knew," he said, coming over to Buffy. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Always."
"Giles," said Buffy, "I never told her. I never told… anyone. I can't even say the words without it being weird. Love. Love. Love. It feels wrong! I can't…" She took a deep breath. "I've worked it out, Giles. There's this… other part of me. And I've known about her for years, but I never knew… who she really was."
Giles nodded. The Slayer side of her. Of course.
"She's a killer, Giles," said Buffy. "Insane, psychotic. Unable to even say the words, 'I love you' anymore. And the scariest thing is… she's me."
"Buffy, that isn't—"
"But she is!" said Buffy. "That's what this Line-Hopper thing means! If it happened to her, it can happen to me, Giles! It is happening to me. I can feel it." She shook her head. "I can't let myself become… her. I can't let the Slayer turn me into something I'm not."
Giles put his glasses back on his face. "How serious are you about this?" he asked, sitting on the coffee table.
Buffy went over to the couch. "Ten." She sat down, nestling her hands between her knees. "Serious to the point of ten."
Giles thought a moment, then turned to face her, with a small sigh. "There is something. In the Watchers diaries. A quest."
"A quest?" Buffy asked. "Like, finding a grail or something? Cause… finding Excalibur went over really well."
"Not a grail," said Giles. "Maybe… answers? It'll take a day. Perhaps… two."
Buffy shook her head. "I'm not leaving Dawn. Not with Glory looking for her."
Dawn walked into the room, a bright purple glass in her hands. "Sure you can!" She sat down beside her sister, then noticed Giles' worried face. "What's… the deal?"
"Some Slayers before Buffy found it helpful in regaining their focus," Giles explained. "In learning more about their role. There's a sacred place in the desert. It's… not far."
"But I can't go," Buffy said. She turned to her sister. "I'm not leaving you, Dawn."
"If you have to go learn," said Dawn, "I mean, if it'll help you out… I think you should do it. I can hang with the gang. I'll be okay."
And as Buffy looked at her sister, she realized. She had to let her go.
"This whole thing started with a quest," said Buffy to Giles, in the car, on the way to the desert. "And now it's ending with a quest."
"Some say that every quest is really a mission of self-discovery," Giles offered. "Perhaps this one — this whole year of your life — has actually been…"
Buffy said nothing.
"Buffy," Giles tried again, "I know this time has been very trying for you, but really—"
"Don't," said Buffy. "Just… don't."
Buffy went out to the desert, where Giles handed her over to the care of a spirit guide. She didn't understand what that meant, but as she wandered through the sand dunes, she heard a growl to her right. She turned, and saw a lioness sitting on the sand.
"Hello, kitty," she muttered.
She followed the lion across the sand, past the sparse vegetation and the mounting wind. So much like the desert-scape in her dreams, yet somehow lonelier — far, far lonelier. A vast expanse of desert stretching out to swallow one lone girl.
"I love you," she muttered into the wind, as if trying to remind herself how to say the words. "I love you."
As long as she could say them, she was herself. She thought — if she could just remember to love — it would be enough to lead her back from the darkness.
When the lioness finally left her, she sat on a rock, staring out at the desert, examining where the lioness had led her. And the oddest thing was… she remembered it.
A small boy, crying in her arms, begging her not to call him Hostile 29.
Tara, a flowing sari wrapped around her, speaking for the Slayer that was attacking Buffy and her friends in their dreams.
Both in this same location. This same sacred spot in the desert.
"I know this place," Buffy said.
Buffy lay on the rock, half-dozing. A sound, and Buffy shot up and spun around. "Hello?"
No answer.
She sat down on the rock, uneasily, her head still darting from side to side. "Who's there?"
And there, just beyond a bonfire she didn't remember lighting, she could see…
Sineya.
Sineya skulked around the leaping flames, her face obscured by their brightness.
"I know you," Buffy said. "You're the first Slayer."
"This is a form," Sineya corrected. "I am the guide."
Buffy pushed some hair behind her ears. "I have a few questions," she called. "About… being the Slayer." She hesitated. "What about… love? Not just boyfriend love."
"You think you're losing your ability to love?" Sineya asked.
"I… I didn't say that," said Buffy. She faltered, then fixed her eyes down on the ground. "Yeah," she admitted.
"You're afraid that being the Slayer means losing your humanity," said Sineya.
"Does it?"
"You are full of love," said Sineya. "You love with all your soul. It's brighter than the fire. Blinding. That's why you pull away from it."
Buffy blinked. "I'm… full of love? So I'm not losing it?"
"Only if you reject it," said Sineya. "Love is pain, and the Slayer forges strength from pain. Love. Give. Forgive. Risk the pain. It is your nature. Love will bring you to your gift."
Buffy considered this. Then frowned. "Wait, what?" She shook it off. "I'm sorry, I'm just… a little confused. I'm full of love, which is nice. And… love will lead me to my gift?"
"Yes."
"I'm getting a gift?" asked Buffy. "Or are you saying that I have a gift to give to someone else?"
Sineya twirled around the fire, and for a brief moment, her eyes locked with Buffy's own, their gaze almost blinding beyond the leaping flames. And that was when Sineya spoke the words that rebounded through the air, reverberated through Buffy's soul, and echoed in every center of Buffy's mind.
"Death is your gift."
The first Slayer faded into the night air, leaving Buffy alone, confused, and… okay, yes, scared. More scared than she wanted to admit. Because… love, all that love, all that caring and hopefulness… was that what had driven Elizabeth into her crazy madness? Was the desire to make the world better and save everyone what had ultimately made other-her a psychotic killer?
Was Buffy going to be the same way?
Buffy heard a noise from beside her, and turned, sharply, expecting some other vision or prophecy or…
Oh.
There, standing in the desert sand, some ways away from her, was the Doctor.
"You're not supposed to be here!" Buffy called to him. She waved her hands in the air. "Go away! I'm on a Slayer quest!"
The Doctor put his hands in his pockets, and walked forwards. "Got a message on my psychic paper," he told her, taking out the leather wallet and waving it at her as he approached. "Thought you might need the help." He stood beside her, as she took the psychic paper from his hands and inspected it. "Took me three tries to get here. Time turbulence."
The psychic paper had the following message:
Doctor,
Desperately sad. Need help. Death still infects me. Please, please, help me feel alive, again.
Buffy.
Buffy handed it back. "Wow. Even got the whole death thing in there. That's pretty impressive psychic paper."
"Does the trick," the Doctor agreed.
For a moment, they both remained silent, neither really sure what to say.
"What—?" the Doctor asked, while Buffy, at the same time, asked, "Where's Donna?"
"TARDIS," the Doctor answered. "Didn't want to get sand in her shoes. Although, she did mention a number of things that made me suspect she thinks this… meeting… is something it's not. Something rather more… intimate."
Buffy glanced down at her hands. "You haven't been visiting as much, recently."
"I… have," the Doctor admitted. "Just not… with you. Necessarily." He sat down beside her, his elbows resting on his knees, their backs touching. "I've been busy."
"With Glory."
"Yes. And… with being pushed out of the time-stream. Which seems to be happening more and more frequently."
Busy not existing. Busy being forgotten. Busy being… the nothing in their lives that they all felt but could not place.
"Mom's dead," Buffy told him, her back to his, her eyes looking out into the distance. "Brain tumor."
The Doctor said nothing for a long moment. "I'm sor—"
"Don't say that," said Buffy. She glanced down at the ground. "I needed you. And even when I could remember you, you didn't come."
The Doctor didn't answer.
"I made so many excuses for you," said Buffy. "But in the end… I guess none of it matters. The point is, you weren't there. That whole time. You just… weren't."
The Doctor still said nothing.
"So, what happens now?" Buffy asked. "Mom's dead. Riley's gone. You're going to kill my sister. Is this the part where I go completely insane and kill off the entire town of Sunnydale just so I can make you suffer? Or is this the part where I string you up and feed you to vampires and force you to believe that everything in the universe is your fault? Is that what I'm becoming?"
"You always have a choice," the Doctor whispered.
"I've never had a choice," Buffy said. "Mom… is dead. Dawn is some universe-destroying… whatever. You're busy being all non-existy half the time, and… and…" She closed her eyes. "And I'm becoming her."
"Elizabeth…"
"See?" said Buffy. "I mean, when you first met me, I hated that name. And now, it's like... I can't get enough of it. I'm dying, Doctor. A part of me is dying. No. A part of me is Death." She stared off at where the First Slayer had appeared to her. "Death is my gift."
"You're not Death."
Buffy gave a humorless laugh. "She just said it. Death is my gift. That's what I am."
The Doctor got up from the rock, running a hand through his hair. "It's not… when you have a responsibility, you always… wind up in these sorts of situations," the Doctor said. "Death and destruction seem to follow you, because you follow them. But that doesn't make you evil. It doesn't mean you cause them. It doesn't—"
"Doctor," Buffy cut in, her eyes still fixed down on the ground. "I love you."
The Doctor said nothing for a moment. "Sorry?"
Buffy looked over her shoulder at him. "I love you," she said. "In spite of everything that's happened, and everything that you screwed up, I just…" She swallowed. "…love you."
For a moment, they both just stayed where they were, frozen in the night air, unable to speak or move or anything.
And the next thing that Buffy knew, they were together. Clutching one another, so tightly, so desperately, as if they were all each other had. Because they were all each other had. And she could feel something stirring, deep down inside, something she hadn't felt inside her head since the day she'd gotten drugged out on caveman-beer. Something musical and beautiful and lyrical, blossoming inside her mind.
She closed her eyes, as she kept kissing him, and… there it was. So bright and glowing and brilliant, like sunshine, and all Buffy had to do was just reach out and touch it. Just like last time, when she'd been interrupted, just like last time when she'd asked what that next step was, and the Doctor hadn't told her.
Buffy stepped into the music, stepped into the light, stepped into his mind.
And this time, she found out what came next.
They were curled together, in the desert sand, arms wrapped around one another. His hearts thudding against her back. Buffy gave a soft laugh.
"What?" asked the Doctor.
"I just realized," said Buffy, "that I had sex without removing any clothes. At all."
"Well, it's not exactly…" He faltered. "I mean… not in the way that humans… you know…"
"I know," said Buffy. Because calling it something like 'sex' would be one of those scary domestic human things that the Doctor didn't do. And it didn't matter that it kind of, sort of felt like sex. A lot. Except… in her head. Which was weird. "What do you call it, then? Head-butting?"
"Mental cleansing."
Buffy tried her hardest to stifle a laugh.
"What?" asked the Doctor. "It is!"
"I can't believe you, sometimes," said Buffy. But, the weird thing was… her head did feel clearer. Like everything was suddenly okay. Like all that sorrow and guilt and heartache was just… more manageable. Understandable. Put in their places. Like she could see her life and her purpose and her goals and see how to achieve them.
"It's a Time Lord technique for processing our more troubling thoughts," said the Doctor. "A complete telepathic merging of minds. An intimate yet very effective form of… well, telepathic sorting-out."
"Therapy?" Buffy asked.
"Not… exactly," the Doctor said. "Unless… your therapist was Jack Harkness. Then I'd say, yes, bit like therapy."
"So all those times you got super-duper depressed, it was just because you weren't having sex?" Buffy gave another laugh. "You know, if you'd told me that, maybe we'd have done this sooner."
"You're the one who's seen my future," the Doctor pointed out. "You can tell me why I didn't."
Buffy snuggled into him, a little tighter. "You know, future-you did mention that there was some kinky human stuff you could throw in while you were going at it," she said. "You wouldn't want to… you know?"
Behind her, the Doctor froze.
Buffy turned around, in his arms, to face him. "Doctor?"
He was still. Far, far too still. His hearts were beating a little too fast. His breath coming a little too rapidly. Was he… afraid? Was this one of those too-much-like-a-scary-domestic-human-thing things?
"Or… not," Buffy put in, quickly. "I mean, we could just stay here, being all super Doctor-Buffy-sandwich together with our clothes on looking like we're just kissing." She paused. "Actually that would be super weird. I mean… on the outside… we really are just kissing, right? We could do this in the middle of a busy street and no one would know."
The Doctor cringed. "I think someone might… work it out. What with the moaning and… some… other things."
Buffy wrapped her arms around him, snuggled into him a little tighter. Her Doctor. Her role model, mentor, lover. Her spirit guide. Her life.
"I'm ready," she said. "To come with you."
The Doctor stared at her. "I'm sorry?"
"After this whole thing with Dawn and Glory ends," said Buffy. "Just… please. Take me with you. Like you kept offering, before." She looked into his eyes. "When I'm with you, I feel alive."
The Doctor glanced down at the two of them, interwoven together. "If you come with me, this… what we're doing now… can't happen. Ever again. With my companions — it's too big a risk."
Buffy said nothing for a long moment. Then, "Okay."
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Okay?"
"I need you," said Buffy. "I don't get what that means, but… I'm willing to find out. If you are."
The Doctor pulled away from her, shaking his head. "Elizabeth," he said — in that beautiful, graceful, amazing way he always did when he called her that — "your sister."
"You've got a time machine," Buffy pointed out. "You take me off, and I can always come back the moment after I left. And if you get me back late, and Dawn's super screwed up and stuff, then you'd better—"
"Not that."
Of course not that. Buffy knew what he meant. He meant what about if he had to kill Dawn. If worst came to worst, and Dawn died and Buffy went insane and started going all other-her on the Doctor.
"I'm not other-me," Buffy told him. "I'm choosing not to be." She looked away. "And… besides. You're not killing Dawn. Period."
If it had to be anyone killing Dawn, it would be Buffy. Because then Buffy couldn't blame anyone but herself. That was her choice.
"She doesn't have to die," the Doctor said. "That TARDIS key — there's a chance that Dawn survives this. There's some probability we can tap into, some way that..."
"Stop," said Buffy. "I just… can't think about this. Not now." She closed her eyes. "Sometimes, it feels like that's all I ever think about."
She felt arms wrap around her, and she leaned into them, trying to gain comfort from them, trying to let him light her way for her.
"If Dawn dies," she whispered, "then I'm leaving with you. And I'm never coming back."
The Doctor said nothing, as they cuddled together, in the night air. Sharing the warmth and comfort of two bodies, two minds, both so unsure of what to do next. Both so lost, alone, afraid. Both taking comfort in one another, because they didn't know when or whether they'd get another moment like this.
They fell asleep wrapped in one another's arms.
Buffy awoke, the next morning, alone. But… she'd always been alone. Completely alone, now. With Mom gone. And Dawn being threatened.
Buffy looked down at the sand, and thought she could almost make out the indentation of another body in the grains beside her. She reached forwards, but the wind blew the indentation away.
Remember. There's someone out there you can't live without. Someone you're not remembering, and the fact you're not remembering him is tearing you apart.
Buffy turned around and left. It was time to find Giles. It was time to finish what she'd started.
Her quest.
