Revelations - XXXI

'It was in my mouth sweet as honey: and as soon as I had eaten it,

My belly was bitter' - Revelation, 10.10

In the month since Angel's humanity had been restored to him, Buffy had never seen him so unbelievably still. The words had tumbled from her lips more easily than she had anticipated but Angel's reaction to the news was something else entirely. He sat unmoving and mute on the edge of Buffy's bed, leaning forwards and gripping the mattress with both hands. His body seemed rather precariously balanced and the impossibility of the pose was to Buffy vaguely reminiscent of his vampire days. Angel had not so much as blinked in the entire seven minutes and thirty six seconds since Buffy had revealed the news of her impossible pregnancy to him.

Buffy herself had been afraid to speak, allowing Angel to fall into his catatonia willingly. She found herself suddenly glad for the sanctuary of her bedroom; being surrounded by such familiarity was comforting now where Angel's presence failed to be. As she leaned back against the wall next to the window and folded her arms across her chest, she wondered how much longer she should wait before forcing Angel to address the issue. Deciding that her patience had now all but frayed, she cleared her throat pointedly. Angel barely flinched in response.

"Angel?" she pressed, the sound of her voice appearing to haul Angel from his reverie as he blinked rapidly and suddenly straightened.

"I… Buffy, I'm so sorry," Angel breathed, clambering unsteadily to his feet and crossing the floor in three strides to wrap his lover in his arms. Buffy let out all her breath in one and sagged against Angel's chest, struggling to bury the wealth of emotions that battled against her newly regained composure.

"Is Giles sure?" Angel inquired, mumbling his question into the crown of Buffy's head in between littering her hair with tiny kisses.

"I don't know, but this prophecy… Angel, how is this going to be ok?" she whispered.

An uncomfortable silence descended between the couple. The hum of the television could be heard faintly from the sitting room below, interrupted occasionally by raucous bouts of Xander's laughter. Buffy smiled despite the gravity of her situation, relieved to hear her friend's mirth. For the time they had resided in Rome, Xander had appeared to be lost in a deep mourning for his beloved Anya and everything he had once possessed to remind him of her. Xander had spent the majority of his time setting about organising the restoration of the castle they had acquired from the Immortal. His appetite and goofy sense of humour had both waned considerably, leaving his old friends concerned and dealing with a shadow of their former Xander.

Buffy knew all too well that part of Xander's reason for wishing to return to Sunnydale was that he hoped he would be able to salvage even a few reminders of his past with Anya. Ironically enough, Buffy believed that Sunnydale may even prove good for Xander for once in his life. Just being able to walk the same streets that Anya once had would be an immense comfort to him. Buffy herself could not deny that Sunnydale held a cache of memories for them all. She thought fleetingly of her mother's grave, and resolved to visit as soon as she found an opportunity.

"Prophecies can be avoided my love."

Buffy jumped a little as Angel's voice shattered her thoughts. He held her tighter, mistaking her surprise perhaps for fear.

"I guess," Buffy responded quietly, turning Angel's answer over in her mind, "I mean, technically I should be dead according to prophecy. Like three times. So not just a little dead either."

Angel smiled thinly and sat down once again at the foot of the bed, gently drawing Buffy alongside him.

"Whether or not this child was conceived before I was turned, it was still conceived in love. There is nothing evil or apocalyptic in that," Angel said, his voice growing stronger in assurance. Buffy felt herself relax a little, allowing her lover's words of comfort to wash over her and work out the tension from her body.

"I guess," she repeated, still not entirely assuaged. "I just…"

"What?" Angel pressed gently, turning Buffy to face him and cupping her chin in his palms. His eyes locked probingly with her own and to Angel's surprise he saw something there buried deep within that gave him moment to pause. Growing suddenly uncomfortable, Buffy turned her face away and wrapped her arms around herself.

"I'm just not sure I'm ready yet is all," Buffy explained, adding meekly, "to be a Mom, I mean."

Angel nodded in understanding but remained silent, sensing that Buffy had more that she wished to convey.

"I never really thought about kids until now. I didn't think those kind of things were even possible for a Slayer. Giles says there's no record of an active Slayer becoming a Mom and since I don't have any secret illegitimate offspring squirreled away anywhere I thought it was moot."

Angel flinched at Buffy's words, feeling the unpleasant sting of his own secret pricking at his conscience. Buffy appeared for now at least not to have noted his discomfort, too absorbed in her own panic.

"The timing isn't perfect what with Sunnydale reappearing," Angel agreed, "but if you want to, we will all make this work out for the better, Buffy."

Silence reigned once again as Angel waited for his future wife to make her decision. He resolved that whatever that may be, his feelings for her would remain unchanged. He only hoped that he would be able to convince her of that fact.

"I guess…" Buffy began slowly, pausing as though tasting the words on her tongue before she continued, "that now is as good a time as any to be ready."

With a smile, Angel pulled Buffy into his chest and encircled his arms around her lithe frame. Both the Slayer and her lover remained frozen in the embrace for some time, allowing twilight to descend gently around them before they began to contemplate moving. Both were attempting to come to terms with impending parenthood, silently terrified and yet surreptitiously pleased; both, wondering how long their own dark secrets would now be allowed to remain such.

x-x-x

Dawn's breathing had evened out only minutes before but Spike knew that she had cried herself into an exhausted slumber. His chest served as her pillow, his shirt now wet through with her tears, and his arm draped gently around her body. She was curled into an almost foetal position, her knees pulled into her stomach and her head tucked low. Despite his pleas for an explanation, Spike had not the faintest idea as to what had caused this sudden onset of despair. Dawn had refused to talk, only cried so hard that for the one who adored her above all others it would have been impossible not to offer comfort.

Tomorrow, Spike's explanations would be sought. He was stonily determined to seek out the individual that had hurt Dawn to such an extent and rip out their spine through their nose, but for now he allowed her the serenity of sleep. Laying a loving kiss on Dawn's forehead, Spike settled himself back against the headboard and resolved to remain until the daylight chased his presence away.

x-x-x

Jess cursed. A string of gasped profanities impossible for human ears to detect. She cursed her father for working late again and being unable to pick her up from The Bronze's grand reopening night. She cursed her mother's decision to move their family back to Sunnydale when they had all been happy living with Grams in Michigan. She cursed her unbelievably appalling luck, her short legs that were useless when running for one's life, and above all she cursed the thing that gave chase to her. She paused only to whimper as despite her efforts to flee, the terrifying growls seemed to draw nearer.

Jess knew beyond all doubt that she had reached the final seconds of her life and so she seized the silver crucifix that had hung around her neck since her eighteenth birthday when Grams had bequeathed it to her. She dug deep within herself, struggling to find the serenity and comfort that her faith had promised to provide her with when her life drew to a close. Her hands shook too uncontrollably and through the haze of her tears, Jess stumbled.

This was it. Closing her eyes, she tried not to listen to the sounds of wicked talons clacking against the tarmac, and began to pray. In her final moments, Jess repented all her sins, granted forgiveness to her parents for failing her, and asked the Lord to guide her to the right path when the time came. A second later, Jess screamed.