Home - XXVIIII
'So much anger so deeply ingrained
Seemed a burden that was hers alone
She didn't think that there was anything wrong
With wanting a life that she could call her own…'
- Home by Sarah McLachlan
Sunnydale, California
Revello Drive stood desolate and in darkness save for the faint pools of light cast onto the sidewalk from the rows of streetlamps. The houses had lain dormant for the better part of a year now and yet they had somehow failed to fall to the wrack or ruin one would expect from such abandonment. Each luscious green lawn appeared as perfectly manicured as it had the day the town had been deserted, and every pane of glass in every window on the street gleamed in the moonlight as though freshly polished. Rather uncharacteristically for Sunnydale, the town that had been dubbed 'Boca del Inferno' by its original Spanish settlers, nothing stirred amongst the shadows.
The silence was eerie and unsettling for innumerable reasons, most of which Jack O'Conlan attempted not to contemplate as he moved down the street in his bulky radiation suit with his Geiger counter held outstretched. The needle on the monitor had not so much as flinched since Jack had set foot in the town, and he knew thanks to the two-way radio strapped to his belt that the building inspection team had also found nothing to evoke concern during their search.
Jack swallowed hard and finally reached up to begin unfastening his helmet. Once removed, he placed the article under his arm and gulped in large amounts of sweet air. Perspiration poured down his forehead but Jack did not concern himself with wiping it away for the moment. He stood in the centre of the street and spun a slow, full circle, taking in every detail of the idyllic little town he had been sent to investigate.
Jack had never seen something so remarkable in all his twenty- two years working with the US government. Sunnydale itself was like a hundred other Southern Californian towns in respects to its architecture and general structure, but what was truly extraordinary was the fact the entire town seemed wholly unscathed by its sudden descent below ground. It was literally as though the place had been spat out without first being chewed, and it was this very analogy that made Jack's knees tremble.
Jack, like so many others under the government's payroll, had heard whispers of the goings on in the town of Sunnydale for several years now. The persistent string of grave robberies and gruesome murders plus a missing persons list long enough to require a filing cabinet for storage could not all be merely due to coincidence. Something strange had been occurring in Sunnydale for a while now, a theory that was compounded in Jack's mind when the town had been swallowed up into the ground the previous year.
Everything now seemed so perfect in comparison; too perfect for Jack's liking. An experience such as this should have rendered the town uninhabitable for at least a year, and certainly subject to some serious renovation and repair work. But so far, the detailed search of Sunnydale by a team of the most experienced experts in the field had failed to turn up so much as a pothole.
Jack removed his radio from his waistband and twiddled the knobs awkwardly between his thumb and forefinger, which were still encased within their fat protective gloving.
"Guys, this is Jack O'Conlan. I'm on Revello and the Geiger is normal. Requesting permission to return? Over," Jack mumbled into the mouthpiece, hoping that his shaky voice did not betray his unease. A quiet breeze rustled through the branches of the trees in a nearby yard and Jack shuddered involuntarily. The radio crackled into life within the palm of his hand and Jack stared down at it with renewed eagerness.
"Sure thing Jack, over," came the responding voice, laden with boredom and sheer annoyance at having been disturbed.
With an audible sigh of relief, Jack O'Conlan cast a final glance around the vacant street and swallowed hard. He did not envy those previous residents that would choose to return to the town of Sunnydale even a single iota. Jack turned on his heel and scurried towards the safety of his colleagues, his pace growing more brisk with every passing second.
x-x-x
One month later…
Buffy Summers stared up at the house she had once called home, and shuddered.
1630 Revello Drive had not changed at all from what Buffy could recall, and it was this particular fact that filled her now with such a heightened sense of unease. Standing at the foot of the long driveway, Buffy noted that her mother's curtains still hung in the windows and the flag on the mailbox stood erect as though less than a day had passed since her last glimpse of the house.
Buffy glanced over her shoulder as she sensed someone approach. Angel rested his hand on his fiancée's arm and squeezed reassuringly whilst moving to her side in order to appraise the sight before them.
Angel exhaled slowly as his gaze swept the late Joyce Summers' home, which appeared none the worse for wear considering its brief stint below ground. In fact, upon driving through the town following their arrival, the gang had soon realised that Sunnydale seemed somehow untouched by the whole fiasco. They had decided after much deliberation and a fleeting trip to Rome to deposit four weary potentials, that the old gang would reunite for the return to Sunnydale in order to maintain a façade of normalcy. Willow and Xander barely questioned Buffy's decision to return to the Hellmouth and quickly vowed to follow her lead, whilst Giles' commitment to the venture was never once uncertain. Dawn had appeared keen to resume her studies in Sunnydale amongst her old friends, and even Spike had seemed uncharacteristically eager to play some part in the Slayer's latest plan.
It had therefore been unanimously decided that Faith and Robin would assume control of the school in Rome whilst Buffy and the gang returned to Sunnydale in order to keep an eye on local events. No more than three weeks after Sunnydale had made its shocking reappearance on the Californian map, the government had declared the town fit for habitation after supposed reparations had been completed. Several days later Buffy and the others had touched down on American soil once again with little idea as to what would face them when they returned to their homes.
Giles was clearly uncertain as to what should be expected of Sunnydale since none of the previous Watcher diaries spoke of any kind of similar occurrence. Upon their return to Rome he had disappeared into his office for days on end, surrounded by piles of dusty ancient tomes and endless cups of tea that never seemed to empty. He had emerged looking rather more perplexed and dishevelled, and clearly none the wiser as to the hows or whys of the situation. In fact, he had even made the trans-Atlantic flight from Rome to America with his nose buried in a book bearing a rather questionable title regarding prophecy. Giles thrived on the possession of knowledge and not being able to provide answers to the questions posed was driving him to distraction.
"It's all so…" Dawn murmured as she wandered down the driveway, her hands clasped unnaturally tightly and her face pale, "perfect."
Buffy nodded and glanced at her younger sister as she spoke, "It's important that you remember, Dawnie, Sunnydale is more dangerous now than it's ever been. There's some weird funky mojo going on here and I need you to be vigilant at all times."
"Sure," Dawn replied meekly as she pushed her dark hair behind her ears and moved towards the front door she seemed almost reluctant to reach. Willow and Xander approached the Summers' driveway haltingly, arms interlinked and their faces wearing equal expressions of caution. Buffy was relieved to note that none of the gang appeared to be taking their return to the town lightly.
"Buffy?" Giles murmured, drawing up alongside the Slayer with his now ever-present stack of research volumes cradled in his arms. "May I have a word?"
Frowning in puzzlement, Buffy nodded and dropped her keys into Angel's outstretched palm. With a small smile, Angel stooped and planted a gentle kiss on Buffy's cheek before striding towards the house with the rest of the gang in tow.
"What is it, Giles?" Buffy inquired, folding her arms across her chest and smiling tiredly at her Watcher. Giles peered back at Buffy for several moments, wearing a curious expression that she did not immediately recognise.
"Buffy, is there something you wish to tell me?" Giles asked softly, suddenly averting his gaze to the lawn and sighing. Buffy planted her hands on her hips and shook her head.
"Giles, I'm sorry, but I'm jet lagged and currently operating in pissy-Slayer mode. Could you cut to the chase for me please?" Buffy demanded, one eyebrow arched as she watched Giles shift his weight nervously from one foot to another.
Giles cleared his throat before he spoke, clearly struggling with the news he was about to deliver.
"I uncovered a prophecy on the flight that I thought it best not to mention until I had correctly translated and studied it. After several hours of intense work, I am now fairly certain that I have an accurate translation from the original Aquitanian text."
"And this prophecy says what?" Buffy prompted, growing more agitated by the exchange as Giles appeared to prolong it, " 'Slayer that visits chewed up Hellmouth in for world of trouble?'. 'Sale at Barney's this weekend?' Come on, Giles."
Giles flushed a little and shook his head, before beginning to shuffle through a collection of papers he had draped awkwardly over his arm. Finding the one he desired, Giles raised it slightly and began reading aloud from his own erratic scrawl.
" 'And should the warrior of the light lay down with the conscience of the beast, there shall be heralded a birth that will defy all laws of nature and man, and ultimately bring about the end'."
Buffy stared mutely at Giles for several moments, her arms folded across her chest against the faint chill that hung in the evening air.
"Sorry, Giles, I seem to have misplaced my Cryptic to English dictionary," Buffy sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "I've been wedged in economy class between Xander and someone who strongly resembled Mayor McCheese for the best part of the day; I have a carload of crap that doesn't even belong to me to unpack; and, a freshly resurrected Hellmouth to contend with on top of trying to find myself a job and plan a wedding on a budget of exactly fifty-five cents and a paperclip."
Giles nodded and Buffy noted for the first time how haggard and pale her Watcher appeared in the fading daylight. Softening suddenly, Buffy reached out towards Giles and affectionately squeezed his arm. Giles stiffened and cleared his throat.
"Very well, Buffy. Under the circumstances I will be rather blunt with my discoveries then," Giles replied, for the first time meeting Buffy's gaze. "I know… at least… I can only guess from this prophecy what exactly happened between Angel and yourself in L.A. before the Shan-Su prophecy had been restored. I only hope we can deal with those consequences… Buffy, I think you are pregnant."