Disclaimer: Don't own, not for profit.
Author's Note: Did you enjoy the cliffhanger? Hope so! Here follows the rest. Read and review!
I waited for Angel to dissolve into dust. I don't know how long I stood there, staring. It wasn't until his expression changed that I knew something was wrong. He lifted his eyes to mine and they were moist. The emptiness vanished and was replaced with a look of distress. My hand felt hot and wet, and I lowered my gaze to it. Under my grip on the stake lodged in his chest, blood was quickly seeping, soaking his shirt.
"B- Buffy," Angel coughed out, his shoulders slumping. He swayed, losing his balance. I let go of the stake to catch his arm. I sunk to the floor with him, gasping in a breath as he groaned with pain.
"Angel, oh my God. Angel," I felt the tears finally slipping out from behind my eyes. I touched the stake and his eyes widened. He cried out as I ripped it out of his body. I let it fall to the floor, quickly covering the wound with my hands. His heart was still beating, but it was slow, much too slow.
"You... have to go," he said while I applied pressure. I couldn't believe this, but I knew then what happened. It was Mishka. It had to be. She was controlling him, to keep me distracted. Angel turned his head to me, his eyebrows drawn as if he was wondering why I was even here. I shook my head, sniffing. "Too late..."
"No, no. You're going to – I'm gonna save you, Angel."
"Buffy -" he paused, drawing in a shaky breath. "I'm dying."
"No!" I cried, emotion overwhelming me. My vision blurred with an onslaught of tears and I began to sob. I leaned closer to him, kissing his forehead. His skin was sweaty and cool and I noticed he was paling. "You – you just have to hold on, honey, hold on. I'll get help -"
"No." He raised his arms and struggled to push my hands away from his wound. He laced the fingers of one hand with mine, squeezing.
"You can't die!" I uttered. I put my other arm underneath his head, cradling him. In the back of my mind, I knew what I was saying was useless. A stake to the heart was fatal, vampire or not. "I – I'm so sorry."
"Shh. It's - " Angel wheezed again and tried to strengthen his shallow breathing. I watched in horror and in despair. He looked at me again, determination in his eyes but with a plea in his voice. "You have to save my girl - Angie. There's... no time..."
"I will," I said, hugging him closer. He tilted his head back, and I kissed him. Our quivering mouths moved against each other's until I felt him tense. I pulled back so he could breathe and I saw my tears on his cheeks.
"Don't give up," he told me. I shook my head with a promise and kissed him again quickly. He sighed, his voice lowered to a whisper. "I love you. For – forever."
"Forever yours," I murmured, nodding and trying to curl my lips into a smile for once. I pressed my cheek to his forehead, shutting my eyes and willed myself not to cry anymore. The pressure of our interlocked fingers released. I felt his chest sink as he exhaled, and he relaxed in my arms. I held him for a moment longer until I could find the strength to draw back.
"I love you, Angel, so much," I whispered before pulling back. His eyes were still open, staring upward. I laid him down gently on the floor and untangled my hand from his. I looked into his expired eyes, still as beautiful as ever and then I closed them.
Before I could swell up with a fresh wave of sorrow, the front door crashed open. I looked to the entryway and saw Willow scramble in, followed by Wesley, Xander and Giles.
"Buffy!" She said. "It wasn't -"
She fell short, seeing Angel lying on the floor in front of me. The rest of them froze in their tracks as well. I stood up slowly, glancing at the blood drying on my hands.
"We're too late," Giles muttered, possibly to himself as he stared at the body on the floor.
"I killed him," I admitted, mostly just to hear myself say it. It cut more deeply than I imagined, to feel those words pass through my lips. Because there wasn't a stone demon where a portal used to be. There wasn't dust on my clothes. Neither my stake nor my conscience was clean.
"Oh god, Buffy," Willow said, looking at me with a mixed expression of pain and sympathy. "I don't know what... I'm so sorry. Tara, she was too weak to explain – but it was Sasha. Angel came to help her."
"We've figured out the skorost lico," Wesley said. "It's a ritual of transformation. To become."
"Mishka came to the house," Willow further explained. "Tara thought it was you. She – she had to have had a spell on Angel."
"I know," I murmured and walked over to a shelf. I felt around on the top until I found the key to the weapons chest. Angel and I kept it hidden from Angela. "Mishka. She wanted to look like me so that Angela would go with her."
"Yes," Giles said, watching me as I unlocked the chest and pulled out a heavy short axe.
"How long until the ritual wears out?"
"It's indefinite," Wesley said, frowning. "She can be you forever."
"No," I flexed my grip on the handle of the axe and looked up at the clock on the wall. It was 11:38, I had twenty-two minutes. "I'm going to kill her."
"Buffy -" Giles started, but I stepped up to him, cutting him off.
"If you're going to tell me to hold on, I'll kill you too."
"Buffy, what?" Xander called for my attention, confused by my coldness. They had obviously expected to find me broken. I decided to let them in a little. I pointed to Angel.
"The only man I've ever loved is gone," I spoke clearly. "His only dying wish was that I save his little girl."
"Of course," Giles whispered. In his eyes, I know that he understood. He always understood my hardest decisions, my worse mistakes. "You have to hurry."
"We're with you," Xander said and Willow nodded, backing him up.
"Gunn, Fred and Cordelia are already headed to the cemetery," Wesley said. I looked at Giles, waiting for his answer. He looked back at me and shook his head.
"I'll stay here... with Angel."
I wanted to thank him – to say how much I appreciated even that small gesture, but I couldn't. After, I told myself as I turned and walked out my front door with Xander, Willow and Wesley at my heels.
I don't know how things fell apart so easily. I'll never understand how – after all that I'd been through – one master vampire destroyed my life. He had been the director of my pain for so long now. Interrupting what new bliss Angel and I had. Nearly killing my baby in the womb and leaving me in fear for her life. Making me murder the first true love of my life and now he held my second love in the palm of his hand. Always just one step ahead.
Tonight, it would end. My knuckles were white on the handle of my axe as I crossed the graveyard. I felt resolution building up inside of me, casting a shadow over the anger I felt. I was the Slayer and I would not be broken so easily.
"This is it," Cordelia informed us as we met her and Fred in the middle of the cemetery. I raised a brow, taking a quick look around – there was nothing here. I was about to ask her exactly what this was when she reached her hand out in front of her and touched something invisible that rippled like water. "But there's something blocking it."
"It's a magical barrier," Willow said, stepping forward. She looked at the empty space, inspecting it carefully. "It's strong."
"Can you break it?" I asked. She didn't answer. Instead, she lifted her hands to the barrier. Her palms curled into fists and she spoke strongly, "Diffringo!"
The barrier didn't respond. Though we could clearly see the rest of the cemetery behind it, we could not walk through. However, Willow didn't give up. She dropped her hands back to her sides and leaned closer to the space, murmuring, "Da mihi colour, da mihi, revelare tuum secretum."
"It's not a wall, it's hiding something," Willow said as the invisible thing reflected a soft gray light. She raised her hands again, this time her palms to the barrier and raised them above her head.
"Deturbo," She said and slowly brought her hands to the ground. The barrier rippled again and fell away, revealing a mausoleum behind it.
"Well done, Willow," Wesley praised, impressed. Xander clapped her on the shoulders and she grinned appreciatively. I slid around Willow, moving through the now visible doorway. Several feet ahead on the floor was a hole. It was dark and I couldn't tell how deep it was.
"I guess I'll go first," I said, peering into the darkness. "And I'll let you guys know if it's safe."
"Wait, Buffy!" I heard Fred's voice say. I turned to see her holding an old torch. "You got a light?"
"Here," Wesley said, producing a lighter. It took a couple of tries but the torch finally lit. Fred leaned over the hole and dropped the torch into it. A second later, we heard the thud and saw the light at the bottom.
"Can't be more than ten feet," Fred said. I smiled faintly, appreciating her resourcefulness. I knelt down and lowered myself down. I let go of the ledge and landed easily on the bottom. I picked up the torch and held it for the others as they dropped in. Xander and Wesley, the tallest of us, had to bend down to fit under the roof. It was a passage, caves.
"Follow me," Cordelia said, her hand grazing the cave wall as she went forward. We followed in a straight line as the passage narrowed. She stopped when our way ended into a larger cave. I set the torch down on the ground as she signaled me to do so.
"They're close," she whispered and I could see light flickering softly from the left. I moved to the other wall so that the others could come closer.
"Xander, Willow, you guys handle Sasha. Wesley and Cordelia, take Mishka. Kill her if you have to. Fred, get to Angela and get her out. Leave Miroslav to me."
I squeezed past Cordelia, taking the lead. I kept close to the cavern wall as we moved toward the light. I paused at a rough opening to make sure that everyone was in place. When they all nodded, I went through.
"Mommy!" Angela's shrill cry alerted our enemies to our arrival. She was at the far wall, restrained by Miroslav. The cave was even larger here and there was no roof. The sky above was impossibly dark, the moon eclipsed. The vampire Sasha charged at us and Willow and Xander rushed forward to meet him.
I ran across the ground, splashing through a shallow pool, my eyes set on Miroslav and my daughter. They must have begun their preparations because I could see those cryptic marks on Angela's face. From behind me, Wesley shouted my name, warning me. But the blow came from my blind side. I skittered across the ground, looking around wildly.
"Slayer," my own face cracked a smile. "We meet again."
It was Mishka. It was unnerving to see myself so perfectly replicated. Even her voice was exactly the same as mine. No one could have blamed Tara now, anyone would think that she was me. I was distracted by the sound of Angela screaming. I turned my head to see Miroslav holding Angela inside of a pentagram. Her wrists were cut and her blood was dripping onto the the symbol.
I got to my feet as Wesley and Cordelia ambushed Mishka. She dodged them, and I didn't have time to warn Wesley about the knife she held. I watched as she buried it into his stomach. Cordelia was more effective at first, managing to get a couple of hits in before Mishka kicked her hard enough to knock her out. Then she rounded back onto me.
"I had hoped that you would spare Angelus," she said, slinking toward me. "Miroslav would have enjoyed bringing him back into the fold."
I lunged at her, swinging my axe. She caught my arm and twisted it and quickly followed up with a blow to my gut. I coughed, suddenly becoming aware of what was happening. She didn't just look like me, she had my strength as well. She had - as Wesley said before – become me.
"You cannot win, Buffy," she sneered, twisting my arm so hard that my muscles refused to hold onto the axe any longer. I stole a glance toward the back wall and saw Angela crying, but straining against Miroslav's hold. I leaned back and kicked out at Mishka, pushing her away from me. She let go, but maintained her balance. The joy on her face sickened me as she flexed her arms and said, "I love this new body."
"That's mine!" I growled and dove at her. I knocked her to the ground and we rolled for a moment, each trying to gain the upper-hand. I heard Fred race to the back and before I could yell for her to stop, Miroslav attacked. She didn't have the reflexes to miss his backhand and it threw her face forward into the wall. She slumped to the ground, unconscious.
"You should be honored," Mishka said before planting her fist in my face. Dazed, I rolled over and let her pin me. Her knee pressed into my spine painfully as her hands gripped my arms.
"Mommy! Please! Mommy!" Angela screamed. I was able to see her. I saw all the pain and fear in her face. She stretched toward me, fighting against Miroslav's much stronger grasp. My heart pounded in my chest. Everything I felt was reflected onto my daughter's face and I was so very afraid that this would be the last time I ever saw that face that I treasured above all others.
"You will be the mother of one of the darkest creatures to walk the earth," Mishka continued. "A natural-born Slayer who opened the Hellmouth, turned to a child of darkness. And what magic I will teach her! The underworld shall worship her."
I watched bitterly as every drop of my Angela's precious blood meant another second was lost. There was a rumble from below, trembling the ground I laid on. Miroslav's cold eyes turned to mine, filled with victory, knowing that he had conquered me.
"It is over," He said, in that dark and deep tone that I'd come to despise. "Surrender now and you will be spared."
"He shows you mercy because you are weak, Buffy," Mishka hissed in my ear. "Always so weak."
Something in me snapped in that moment. I was staring into Angela's eyes. Eyes that were just like mine. She was just like me, more so than Mishka could ever be. She was a part of me. She had no concept of inevitability or hopelessness or what it meant to give up. And it wasn't because she was young or naïve, it was because of us – her parents, Angel and I. In her heart, she knew that we would never stop fighting for her, so it came naturally that she would never stop fighting.
Even as every second that passed meant her doom. Every drop of blood awoke the hell beneath us. In spite of it, she called for me. The axe wasn't far from me. I was sure that I was going to save her. I threw my head back, colliding with Mishka's and catching her off guard. Her clutch on me relaxed just enough to let me stretch out and grab the axe. I flipped, pushing the blade into her chest.
A mighty cry echoed in the chamber as she fell to the floor beside me. My face faded before me and she was changed back to her former self but ultimately dead. I pushed myself to my feet and met Miroslav's struck face. It never occurred to me before that Miroslav actually cared for his gypsy girl. But he did enough to seek revenge. He lifted Angela off her feet and his face morphed into the demon.
I don't remember Willow and Xander screaming behind me, or the fact that they were running behind me as I raced toward Miroslav. I don't remember the ground ending its shuddering. I don't remember how pale light streamed down on us as the moon came back.
All I remember was watching Miroslav bare his fangs. The sound of my daughter's last unearthly cry as he ripped her throat out. Nothing else registered in my memory. I don't think I could have survived anything else. No matter what, I could never forget that sight. And she never stopped calling for me.
Because I was the one who gave birth to her. I was the one who had nursed her. The one who sang her lullabies. The one held her hand to cross the street. The one who kissed her scraped knees. The one who chased away the monsters under the bed. The one who kissed her after she'd had a nightmare. The one who taught her not to fear the dark. Because I was her mother... her savior.