a/n: Thanks again for waiting for this chapter. Now that I've officially graduated secondary school/high school, I'll have plenty of time this summer to keep this story updated. Thanks for your reviews. Reading them gives me happy gooey feelings. Kind of a long chapter, but I really enjoyed writing it so I hope you'll enjoy reading it.
PS: I listened to 'I Only Have Eyes For You' by the Flamingos on repeat while writing this chapter and I suggest playing it in the background while you read the last couple scenes for optimal feels.
TW: Gun violence. Mention of murder/suicide.
Will groaned, waking up with his face slumped against printed pages on poltergeists and communication with the dead, the cold sweat of his forehead blurring the ink. He'd fallen asleep in his office again, reluctant to go home to the quiet of his apartment. He pushed aside his research material and stood from his desk, heading to the bathroom to stretch his legs and splash water on his face. He twisted the corner and heard a muffled argument coming from the east hall near the girls' locker room.
"Let's both just calm down. Give me the gun."
Will furrowed his brow. It sounded like Brittany, her voice shaky. He turned the corner to see Mike, his shoulders tensed as he waved a gun in the girl's direction.
"Hey!" Will yelled and ran through the hall.
Mike turned around, panicked and pulled the trigger, a deafening shot ringing out through the school. Mike reeled backwards and the gun dropped from his hands onto the ground with a clatter.
"Wha...?" he breathed, looking at his own hand. Brittany gasped and Mike looked Will, who was sprawled on the floor, a bright patch of blood spreading onto the crisp white sleave of his button-up shirt.
"Mr. Schuester!" Mike cried, both he and Brittany rushing towards him.
Will lifted his head and looked at the blood on his shirt, his eyes widening.
"Back!" he ordered, and Mike stopped short beside him.
Brittany kneeled down and quickly helped Will get his tie off. He unbuttoned his shirt and removed his injured arm. He winced and saw it was only a through-and-through flesh wound. He balled up his bloody shirt and held it to the gunshot.
"Oh my God," said Mike, his mouth gaping open and his eyes wide with horror.
"What were you thinking?!" Will demanded, small flecks of blood quickly drying on his shoulder.
"I-I don't know. I don't know what happened."
"I don't either," Brittany said quickly, "It's like we weren't even there."
"Oh God, Mr. Schuester, I didn't mean to do this, I don't even know where I got that gun. I didn't mean this, I'm sorry, you have to-"
"I believe you," said Will between gritted teeth. His eyes scanned the floor and the other two followed his gaze to see the absence of the gun.
xxx
"And this is the garden."
Snix opened the backyard slide doors of an impressively spacious condo on the skirts of town. She put her hands on her hips as Spike rolled out, followed by Drusilla, who looked like she had stars in her eyes. There were wild lilies growing in the small garden and vines stretching up against the bright white paint of the apartment. Fairy lights donned the red brick wall that cut them off from their warm-blooded neighbours.
"I know you guys aren't used to living among non-corpses but trust me; it's cosy, it's warm and it doesn't smell like a sewer. You'll get used to it."
"Look. Jasmine," Drusilla gasped in delight, pointing to an overgrown bush adorned with delicate white flowers.
Snix approached her from behind and wrapped her arms around Drusilla's waist, bunching up the black fabric of her slim floor-length gown.
"Night blooming. Like us."
"Ooh, my angel, it's a fairyland."
"It's perfect," Spike frowned cynically, "Big windows and gardens. Great for when we want the sunlight to kill us."
"And again, Pottery Barn offers a solution to your problems with velvet blackout curtains," Snix rolled her maroon eyes, "You need to stop being such a nitpicker, Wheels."
"Our old place was just fine before you burned it down."
"Things change, Spikey. You've gotta roll with the punches. But then you've got that whole rolling thing down to pat, right?"
"Very funny."
"What can I say? I love to see you smile, buddy," Snix smirked, nuzzling into Drusilla neck, making the older vampire purr.
"Yeah," Spike said with his jaw clenched, "You're a giver."
xxx
Buffy realized if she didn't have to be a slayer, she'd make a good nurse, as she bandaged a gunshot wound on Will's right arm. Despite the amount of blood that stained his now ruined white dress shirt, the bullet had mainly just grazed him, stripping away some skin and muscle.
"Is Mike okay?" he asked, sitting at the edge of the desk in his office.
He didn't want to go to the hospital or call the police. He was certain that Mike and Brittany had been possessed by the same thing that made Cory and Elaine argue so violent the previous night.
"He'll be okay," said Buffy, "You're the one who got shot."
"I'll recover. I'm sure he feels horrible."
"Well, he's with Tina, and I took Brittany home. Told her not to hang back when no-one was around anymore. You should probably do the same."
"I can take care of myself."
"Will, you got shot. Just until we figure this all out, you shouldn't be at the school alone, alright?"
Will opened his mouth to protest when Rachel and Quinn came in, looking equally spooked.
"Tina's parents are letting Mike stay the night at their house. His parents thinks he's at Finn and Kurt's," said Rachel.
"So what happened?" asked Quinn, folding her arms.
"It was just like last night," said Will.
"Mike and Brittany don't remember anything. Or, they do, but they don't remember why it happened. Like they were possessed," Buffy explained.
"Did you find the gun?" asked Rachel.
"No. We looked all over," said Will, "But I think I know what's going on."
"You do?" Buffy looked from Will's bandage, handing him a soft gray t-shirt.
"Yeah," said Will, slipping the t-shirt over his head and wincing again from the pain of his wound, "It's Emma."
The girls fell silent. "What?" said Buffy.
"She died here, in the school. Murdered. This is her spirit. It has to be. She's trapped."
"But, what about the gun?" asked Rachel, lowering her voice and looking uncomfortable, "Ms. Pillsbury wasn't shot."
"The gun is just a detail," said Will, "It's the violence."
"I don't know. The fights seems kind of... specific. Like they're having the exact same one. The same words," said Buffy.
"Yeah, none of this fits with how Ms. Pillsbury died," Quinn shrugged.
"You know I always want to hear what you guys think. You're intuition is extremely important when it comes to things like this," said Will, "But this time, I'm right. I know it."
xxx
"No more visions?" Buffy asked into her cellphone as she peered through her living room window the next morning, waiting for her carpool to arrive.
"No, not since the last one, I just wanted to talk to you about my powers in general," Kurt said on the other line, stuffing his backpack full of books for morning classes at Dalton.
"Is something wrong?"
"You could say that. They're getting stronger. A lot stronger. My visions are getting less vague. The mind reading is getting more powerful. I can even use it on Blaine. I'm worried about getting out of control."
"Is there something I can do?" asked Buffy.
"I don't know. Blaine thinks maybe I'm like this because my mother was a slayer. Like she passed on something."
"You think I'd know something about that?"
"Am I barking up the wrong tree?"
"Well, I don't know, Kurt. It's not like it's never crossed my mind. Where do my powers come from? Why me? I just never got those answers."
"I think it's more than magic."
"I think so, too. I wish I knew more about it, though. Maybe you could try talking to somebody who's actually studied this kind of stuff? Like... Shelby Corcoran. I haven't talked to her but I know she's staying with Quinn and Sofia. Helping them with... stuff, it's complicated. But she's a witch. Been studying witchcraft since she was a teenager. If anyone knows about magic, it's her."
"Okay. Thanks, Buffy."
"Yeah, no problem. I gotta go," she said, as Tina's car pulled up with Mike behind the wheel and Tina browsing on her laptop in the passenger's seat.
Buffy slung her backpack over her shoulder and ran outside, squeezing into the back-seat with Rachel.
"Hey, guys," she greeted them, "You okay, Mike?"
"Tired," he replied wearily.
"It's not your fault," said Buffy as the 80s Volkswagen Tina got for her birthday hobbled along the way to school, "We're gonna find out what this thing is."
"Probably without Mr. Schuester's help, unfortunately," said Rachel.
"I've never seen him like that," said Buffy, "He misses her. He can't think about anything else. What are you looking at, T?"
"Cross-checking for other shootings at the school. We need some alternate ghost theories."
"What do we know?"
"Plenty. It says here a student murdered a teacher the night of a Sadie Hawkins Dance. Allegedly they were having an affair and she tried to break it off. After he shot her, he committed suicide in the music room."
"It has to be one of them," said Rachel, "It all fits. The gun, the Sadie Hawkins dance..."
"Why haven't we ever heard about this?" asked Mike.
"Well, it happened in-"
"1955," said Buffy, her eyes widening as she the puzzles pieces fit together.
"How did you know?"
xxx
Buffy slammed the 1954-55 issue of the Thunderclap down on the surface of the choir room's grand piano and flicked straight to the 'In Memoriam' page. Only two pictures, a young male student and a pretty female teacher, looked up from the section. Buffy took a picture with her phone and sent it to Kurt with the caption, 'Look familiar?'
"James Stanley," said Tina, pointing to the boy, "That's him, the boy who murdered his teacher."
"And they're the people from Kurt's vision," Buffy confirmed, quickly receiving Kurt's text.
"Wow. His visions are getting really accurate," said Rachel, "And this one's from the past."
"He couldn't make her love him so he killed her," Mike frowned, looking down at the picture, "It's sick."
"He looks so... happy," said Rachel.
"He was smart, too. Made the honor roll," said Tina.
"Smart? He killed a person and then himself. Those are probably the two dumbest things you can do," Buffy frowned.
"Buffy, he was emotionally disturbed," said Tina, "I feel bad for them."
"I feel bad for her. But he's a murderer and he should pay."
"With his life?"
"No. He should be in a jail cell for sixty years breaking rocks and making special friends with Roscoe the weight lifter," Buffy huffed, her hands on her hips.
"Who's ghost do you think it is?" asked Rachel, "His or hers."
"Considering the violence... I'd say his," Buffy guessed.
"That makes sense," said Tina, "Maybe I can look into communication with the dead a little more. See what he wants."
"Who cares what he wants? We have to stop him before he makes some innocent guy kill some nice girl and then blow his brains out in the music room."
xxx
Kurt drove his Impala to Lima when Dalton let out for lunch. He didn't intend on going back to school as he drove to an upscale neighborhood called Lima Heights. He was going to get in trouble with the dean and probably with his dad, but at this point he didn't care about school or grades anymore. He remembered where Santana's house was from her Halloween party and parked on the sidewalk outside. He headed up the narrow path lined with red bark where there once were fake blue pebbles and rang the doorbell, rubbing his sweaty palms against his Levi's.
"Hello?" Sofia greeted in a tight red sweater.
"Hi, Sofia, is Shelby here?"
"She's upstairs packing. You want me to let her know you here?"
"Yes, please," Kurt said nervously. The living situation at Santana's house was complicated to say the least.
"SHELBY!" Sofia cried from the bottom of the staircase before turning back to Kurt, "Come in."
Kurt followed her inside and noticed how different it all looked since last October. Sofia had changed it even more, repainting the walls in autumn colors and putting soft carpets where cold tiles used to be. Brightly colored knick-knacks stood on shelves and a large arch led into the brightly lit living room where a Spanish soap opera blared on the TV.
"She'll be down in a second," said Sofia in her thick accent, "You want something to drink?"
"No, thank you," Kurt smiled, taking a seat at the island counter.
Sofia went into the living room to continue watching her soap opera and Shelby came downstairs in a dark purple sweater.
"Hello," she said curiously.
"Oh, hello," Kurt said, standing, "Um, you don't know me. My name is Kurt Hummel."
He outstretched his hand and shook hers very quickly, a burst of thoughts blaring through his mind before he pulled away.
"You do know me?" he wondered.
"Um," Shelby looked confused, "Yes, actually, I do. Is it that obvious?"
"Oh, um," Kurt shrugged, "Just to me, probably."
"I knew your mother."
"You did? Even better."
"I'm sorry, what is it you're here for?"
"I'm a friend of Buffy's. Who's a friend of Quinn's. Kind of. I needed your help. I know you're busy and I'm not sure how to phrase this but I've been developing powers. Powers that I don't know how to stop or control. I want to know about them and about magic and I was told that you were somewhat of an expert."
Shelby sat down at the island counter looking thoughtful and Kurt followed suit. "This is... I didn't think this would ever happen. I knew about your mother."
"You did?"
"Mm hm. We weren't really friends, but I practised witchcraft in high school and sometimes she would ask for my services. She'd even pay me. I never asked her to, but I wasn't living with my parents and I guess she felt bad for me. I was just a broke kid and she was gonna be a mom. That maternal side can be a strong thing. Anyways, we stayed in contact after she had you. I always appreciated her. She didn't care about what people said about me. The people in this town thought I was some sort of Satanic hoodlum. I wanted to leave for New York as soon as humanly possible, but not before I did your mom one last favor."
"What did you do?" asked Kurt, already engrossed in her story.
"She was leaving for Cleveland and she wanted you to have protection on the Hellmouth. We didn't know if it would work but we had to try."
"Try what?"
"We tried to transfer some of her powers to you. To make you strong and quick and intuitive. Like a slayer. We had no way of knowing if it had worked. It had never been done before."
"You were trying to make me a slayer?"
"She didn't want you to have that responsibility, but she did want you to have that power."
Kurt shook his head. "This isn't like her power, though. I don't have strength or agility. I get visions. Of the future, and the past, and they're getting more and more accurate. I can read minds. I read yours when we shook hands. I didn't mean to, I just did. I can't control this, any of it."
Shelby bit her lip. "Maybe that's how it works. You can't be a slayer, you just can't be. It's unprecedented. No boy or man in history has been a slayer, not a real one. So when we tried to give you your mother's powers, this is probably how they manifested. In your mind. Gave you wisdom instead of strength. Heightened your psychic abilities in lieu of physical ones."
"So it is because of my mother? This is her power?"
"It makes the most sense," said Shelby, clasping her hands together, "And as far as I know, your mother could never stop or control her powers. She could only let them thrive. When she did, it made her better."
"You're saying I shouldn't try to control my powers?"
"I'm saying you shouldn't try to hold yourself back. If you give into your powers, you'll learn about them and about yourself. The the control will come later."
xxx
"Hi, Buffy."
Buffy turned from the haphazard salad bar in the school's cafeteria to face Brittany, who was smiling shyly and carrying a tray of rubbery cheese pizza and watermelon punch.
"What's up, Brittany?"
"Nothing, I just wanted to ask how you were doing," Brittany shrugged.
Buffy's smile was small. "Thanks, Brittany. I'm doing..." Buffy paused before a rehearsed 'fine' could escape her mouth, "As best I can."
"Me too," Brittany replied, looking down at her tray, "Yesterday, Mike - before everything got weird - he said that even you need help sometimes."
Buffy flinched. "He did?"
"Yeah. And that made me feel better because if you get scared sometimes it makes it okay for me to be scared sometimes. And I just want to be more like you."
Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Like me? Why?"
Brittany shrugged, her cheeks getting pink. "You're the kind of girl Santana would fall in love with."
Buffy opened her mouth, unsure of how to respond to that. She didn't realize just how alike she and Brittany were.
"She fell in love with you, too, once."
"Yeah, but then I let her go, because I was scared. I don't want to do that anymore. Get scared and let go. I don't want to do things just because they're safe anymore. Like Artie. He's cute and he's sweet and he'd never leave me because I'm so out of his league and because he can't run away or anything. But it's not good enough. It's supposed to be more. You're supposed to feel..."
"Butterflies?"
"Mountain goats."
Buffy laughed, and her laugh got quieter and Brittany could tell she was feeling something sad. "I know, Brittany. But you don't want to be like me. Sometimes I swear it's like I do things just because they're dangerous. I get people hurt."
"No, you save people. I've seen you."
Buffy let out a humorless laugh. "So you and Artie...?"
"We broke up."
"I'm sorry, Brittany."
"It's okay. I mean, I don't regret dating him, because he says he still loves me and we can still be friends. But it's still sad."
"Of course. I'm glad you talked to me, Brittany. I never really thought of us as friends before."
Brittany shrugged with a smile. "Do you maybe want to go to the Sadie Hawkins dance?"
"With you?"
"In a friend way, not a sexy way. You're super hot but I'm just not that into you."
Buffy grinned. "Yes, Brittany, I would like that."
"Great. Maybe things will start to be better around here."
"I'm sure it-"
A strangled yell cut Buffy's sentence short. The girls turned to one of the nearby plastic picnic tables to see a boy spitting out a mouthful of bread. Small, black snakes slithered out of his sandwich. He dropped it onto the table's surface, him and his friends jumping back. Brittany looked down at her cafeteria tray and dropped it onto the floor with a loud crash, black snakes writhing on her plate. The snakes wriggled on every table and in bucketfuls on the salad bar. Buffy backed away, cursing her wishful thinking.
xxx
"Remember our plan to contact the spirit and find out what it wants?" asked Quinn, "Well, let's scrap that plan."
Buffy leaned against her window pane, nodding in agreement. After the chaos of the snakes in the cafeteria that Principal Figgins had chalked up to backed up sewer pipes, Buffy was refreshed to find that her friends were not scared, but pissed, and she was now holding one of her largest Scooby Gang meetings in her bedroom with Brittany, Tina, Mike, Rachel, Quinn, Mercedes and Sam present.
"Buffy's right," said Rachel, "The time for touchy-feely communication is long passed."
"There's only one solution," said Tina.
"We nuke the school?" Sam asked hopefully.
"No. Exorcism."
"Isn't that a little dangerous?" asked Mercedes.
"I've seen those movies," Brittany nodded, "Even the priests died."
"I have a plan," said Tina, "The hall outside the girls' locker room is where the teacher was killed. That makes it the hotspot for negative energy. So if we all pair up, two people can take the hotspot and the other three pairs can take three other areas that surround it. Together, we can bind the spirit and stop all of this."
"I'll take the hotspot," said Buffy, "They don't call me the slayer for nothing. Brittany can come with me."
"I can?" asked Brittany, looking up.
"She can?" Rachel asked dubiously.
"Yeah. We've both seen the possessions in action. We know what to expect. At least, I think we do."
xxx
"Kurt, where were you?"
Blaine had opened the door to his dorm room to see Kurt out of uniform hours after lights-out. Kurt walked into his boyfriend's small single room, his eyes trailing over the crumpled clothes on the ground and flyers for upcoming fencing tournaments cluttering the desk.
"Having a really enlightenig discussion with Shelby," Kurt said slowly, removing his scarf from under the collar of his trench coat.
"What did you find out?" asked Blaine, his wide brown eyes blazing with interest.
"These are my mother's powers, like you suspected."
Blaine sat down at the edge of his unmade bed and patted the space next to him, beckoning Kurt to take a seat. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," said Kurt, sitting down, "She tried to transfer her powers to me when I was little and this is how they're manifesting."
"Wow," Blaine breathed, "So what does this mean? You can learn how to control them?"
"That's the thing. I don't think I'm supposed to. Shelby says to let them thrive so that I can learn about them. And then I'll be able to control them without trying."
"Is that what you want to do?"
"What else can I do? I mean, they get in the way of a lot of things but it's different now. Whether I want them or not, these powers are a gift. A gift that my mother gave me. Rejecting them would be... out of the question."
Blaine nodded. "Okay. So that's settled. You don't hold your powers back anymore. That's okay."
"Is it?"
"Of course."
"Because I know you said you have nothing to hide-"
"I don't. Not when it comes to you."
"Well, neither do I."
Kurt looked at his boyfriend, whose black curls were tussled from lying against his pillow. He sheer white fleece clung against his lean shoulders and his dark brown eyes, though soft and round and young, betrayed his wolfish intensity. Kurt slid his hand over Blaine's and let himself here the echo of his thoughts and the blurred images of himself and heat and the moon.
"I love you," said Kurt.
"I love you, too," Blaine replied, and Kurt could feel the truth of that statement without having to hear his boyfriend's thoughts.
He leaned in and kissed the shorter boy, breathing in his smell and hearing his mind even more clearly the closer they got. Wordlessly and enthusiastically they peeled the clothes off of each other and burrowed under Blaine's sheets. With their skin pressed together, Kurt felt like Blaine's thoughts were his own. In that moment, he knew everything his boyfriend felt and wanted and wondered and he answered every question with a kiss.
xxx
"Okay, we know our places," said Buffy, checking her watch as the Scoobies followed her into the school after night fell, each of them holding a long, black candle, "We light the candle and do the chant at midnight exactly. Questions?"
"Yeah," Mercedes raised a hand, "What if this doesn't work?"
"Oh, I almost forgot!" Quinn exclaimed, searching into her envelope clutch, "I made us all protective scapulas."
Brittany frowned. "Are we making pancakes for the ghost?"
"Scapula," Quinn rolled her eyes, "You wear it like a necklace."
She removed a bunch of little sachets with leather cords attached to them from her purse and handed one to everyone.
"They smell funny," commented Sam.
"I didn't have a lot of time so I had to use sulphur," Quinn replied, hanging the sachet around her neck.
"Okay," Buffy said firmly after she slid hers over her head, "Let's do this."
xxx
"I want to dig myself a little burrow and sleep underground," Drusilla said chipperly as she dug through dirt in the garden, mud collecting under her long, sharp fingernails.
"What about your pretty nightclothes, sweet?" asked Spike, who sat from his chair and watched her near the back door, "They'll get all dirty."
"Then I'll sleep naked. Like the animals do."
"You know, I'm suddenly liking that plan," said Snix, grinning from the bottom step of the narrow staircase that ran along the edge of the house.
"Fortunately, no-one cares what you like," Spike said acidly.
"Oh, no? Let's ask Dru-"
Drusilla burst out into hysterical laughter and gasped, staring up at the sky. "Oooh. A gate is opening. I can feel it."
"Incoming," said Snix, leaning forward, "I love it when she does this."
"What gate, pet?" asked Spike, "What do you see?"
Drusilla rose to her feet, humming softly, her hands covered in dirt. "It's black. And it wants her."
"Wants who?"
"The slayer. She's ready for you now, my angel. She's dancing with death tonight."
"This whole Buffy thing has run its course," said Snix, standing up, "I'm ready to focus my energy somewhere else."
"Really?" Spike raised a scarred eyebrow.
"Mm hm. I figure I should stick with something close to home, what with you being Mr. Special Needs and Dru needing a nice firm pair of hands."
xxx
Quinn and Rachel moved through McKinley's northern area, heading towards the lounge and clutching the scapulas around their necks. Once they were out of sight of the others, Rachel had slid her hand into Quinn's for comfort. They didn't speak as they moved slowly through the school, but when a dark figure darted out of the arches of the choir room, the girls screamed.
"Mr. Schuester?!" Rachel gasped.
"Quinn, Rachel, what are you doing here? You're not supposed to be in the school after dark."
"What about you?" challenged Quinn, as she and Rachel hid their unlit candles behind their backs.
"I'm trying to... I think I'm close to contacting Emma. What's that smell?"
"I made scapulas."
"With sulphur?"
Quinn nodded.
"Good thinking. Well, you girls should leave. I don't want you in the line of fire if I make contact tonight."
"Okay," Rachel nodded, "Night."
xxx
Buffy headed through one of the second floor hallways when the faint sound of music floated from one of the classrooms. An old-fashioned love song. It sounded haunting in the darkness as she clutched her candle. On the wall, a flyer for the Sadie Hawkins dance was held up with tape, but it wasn't the ones the Event Planning Committee had made. It looked old, with a cartoon of a girl in a poodle skirt winking in the corner.
Buffy walked into the classroom and felt transported into one of Kurt's vivid visions of the past. A record player snapped and crackled along with the melodic love song and two people danced in the middle of the classroom. It was James and the young teacher he was having an affair with, Ms. Newman. They were staring into each other's eyes, utterly lost. Even Buffy couldn't look away. Slowly, James looked away from Ms. Newman and stared directly at Buffy, his face suddenly that of a corpse.
xxx
"Come on," Quinn ushered Rachel onto the floor of the lounge, quickly lighting the candle and checking her watch, "Soon."
After a moment of silence, the cement and tiles of the ground beside them broke open and Rachel screamed as a decayed blue hand reached out from it, grasping for them. The arm grabbed Quinn's ankle, pulling her into the ground. Rachel stood up and hooked her arms under Quinn's, pulling her away from the monster.
"Quinn!" Will cried, running out of the choir room and into the lounge, stomping at the corpse hand until it retreated into the ground.
Rachel and Quinn both tumbled to the ground. "Mr. Schuester," Rachel whimpered.
"It's okay, Rachel."
"This isn't Ms. Pillsbury. It's not."
"I know," sighed Will, "I know."
"I'm sorry," Quinn said softly.
xxx
Buffy sprinted to the hall outside of the girls' locker room, where Brittany was waiting, the candles already lit.
"What took you so long?" she asked, looking spooked.
"Let's hurry," Buffy said shakily, powerful images running through her head, of James' gun, of Ms. Newman's blood pooling on the ground, of James returning to the classroom with that repetitive song still playing, the singer crooning, 'I only have eyes for you' as James lifts the gun to his temple.
Buffy dropped to her knees and her watch beeped as it turned midnight.
"Buffy!"
"Brittany, read the words," said Buffy, clutching her hands over her head.
Brittany took the folded piece of notebook paper Tina had given her and started to read despite the ball in her throat. "I shall confront and expel all evil, out of marrow and bone-"
Buffy cried out in pain as the visions tormented her mind.
"Buffy?"
"Keep reading!"
"Out of house and home," Brittany said, louder, "Never to come here again!"
A breeze picked up in the hall and blew out the candle. Buffy took her hands away from her head and looked up at the stillness of the school. She locked eyes with Brittany as an ominous buzzing began.
"Run!" she yelled and stood quickly, grabbing Brittany's hand as a swarm of black wasps raced towards them through the hall.
They ran to the entrance and escaped out into the open air with the rest of the Scoobies and Will. They didn't stop, all nine of them hightailing it away from the campus. Once they were far enough, they slowed down and looked back to see the school enveloped in a dark, whirring cloud that could only be the gigantic mass of wasps. They exchanged terrified glances.
"What do we do?" asked Brittany, looking at Buffy.
"What does he want?" asked Sam.
"Forgiveness," Buffy said with certainty.
"How? He's playing this out over and over," said Tina, "Doomed to kill Ms. Newman again and again. Forgiveness is impossible."
"Good," Buffy clenched her jaw, "He doesn't deserve it."
"We don't forgive people because they deserve it, Buffy," Will said quietly, "We do it because they need it."
"No," Buffy said spitefully, turning to face her teacher, "He destroyed the person he loved the most because he got carried away. It's unforgivable. He knew that it was wrong and stupid and selfish and he did it anyway. He's going to have to live with that."
"He can't live with it, Buffy," said Mike, "He's dead."
Buffy paused, at a loss for words. She turned from the Scoobies, embarrassed at her outburst, and stuffed her hands into her coat pocket, feeling crumpled paper. She removed the paper from her pocket to see it was the Sadie Hawkins flyer. Calm washed over Buffy's face.
"I have to go back," she said, stuffing the flyer back into her pocket.
"What? Buffy, you can't," said Will, "The spirit is too angry-"
Before he could stop her, she took off running towards the school. She slowed down at the entrance and went up the steps, the swarm of wasps parting to let her in and closing again around the building once she was inside.
"Is she crazy?!" Quinn exclaimed as the rest of them ran towards the school, stopping at a safe distance from the campus.
"I think the spirit's making her go," said Will.
"Why?"
"He's doing it again. Possessing her. Trying to make a different ending."
"But he can't," said Rachel, "Buffy's going to get shot!"
"No, there's no-one else inside," Will shook his head, "No-one else for James to possess."
xxx
Buffy slumped against the wall outside the girls' locker room, waiting and not sure what she was waiting for, until a dark figure appeared at the end of the hall.
"Fun fact? Wasps don't have much of a taste for the undead."
Snix stepped into the moonlight that was pouring in through one of the windows.
"You're the only one," Buffy frowned, "The only person I can talk to."
"Gosh, Buffy. That's really... pathetic."
"You can't make me disappear just because you say it's over."
"Actually," said Snix, walking towards her, "I can." She stopped a few feet away from Buffy, her expression growing softer. "I just want you to have a normal life. We can never have that. Don't you get it?"
"I don't give a damn about a normal life. I'm going crazy without you. I think about you every minute."
"I know," Santana smiled sadly, "But it's over. Accept it."
She turned, but Buffy angrily caught up with her and caught her arm, pulling her back.
"Come back here! We're not finished! You don't care anymore, is that it?"
"It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter what I feel."
"Then tell me you don't love me! Say it!"
"Will that help? Is that what you have to hear? I don't. I don't! Now let me go!"
"No. A person doesn't just wake up one day and stop loving somebody," Buffy spat, raising the gun that had materialized in her hand, "Love is forever."
Santana's eyes widened at the sight of the gun. "Oh my God."
"I'm not afraid to use it," said Buffy, beads of sweat dripping down her forehead, "If I can't be with you-"
Santana turned on her heel, trying to escape.
"Don't walk away from me, bitch! Stop! I mean, it, don't make me."
Santana stopped, terrified, and turned slowly, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please. Let's both just calm down. Give me the gun."
"Don't! Don't do that, damn it! Don't talk to me like I'm some dumb-" her finger jerked and she accidentally squeezed the trigger too hard. She recoiled back as a shot rang out and when she looked up, blood was pouring out of a hole in Santana's chest - straight through her heart.
She fell back onto the ground, blood pooling onto the tiles. Buffy looked at the gun in her hand in horror. The hall was silent except for her scared, raspy breath. She swallowed and tightened her grip on the gun, walking into the classroom where the song was still playing on repeat. The moon may be high / But I can't see a thing in the sky / I only have eyes for you.
She stopped and looked at her reflection in one of the dark windows to find it was James looking back at her, disgust in his eyes. She listened to the music and brought the gun to her head, a tear dripping off of her chin.
"Don't do this."
Buffy looked away from the reflection as Santana approached her, gently taking the gun out of her hands.
"But... I killed you."
"It was an accident. It wasn't your fault."
"It was my fault! How could I-"
"I'm sorry. I lied. I never stopped loving you. I loved you with my last breath."
Buffy started to cry harder, so hard she began to shake. Santana wrapped her arms around her.
"Shh. No more tears."
She brought her hand to Buffy's narrow chin and lifted her head, pressing her lips against the blonde's. Buffy sank into the kiss and opened her eyes, the gentle look still lingering on the vampire's face.
"Santana?"
Her eyes went cold and Snix pulled her arms away from Buffy, spinning around and darting out of the school. Buffy stood still for a moment, until she wiped the tears from her swollen face and pulled the needle away from the record, making the music screech and the room turn silent.
xxx
"Buffy didn't come?"
Days later, Will had donned an old black suit to chaperone McKinley's Sadie Hawkins dance. He found the Scoobies dressed and slumped ungracefully at a table decorated with gossamer cloth and plastic champagne flutes. None of them were up for a party.
"No," Tina frowned, looking up at Will, her hair tied up in a glossy bun, "If I knew she was gonna bail, I would have as well."
"We all would have," said Quinn.
"She was supposed to be my date," Brittany sighed.
"No-one's gonna hold it against you if you leave early," said Will, his hands in the pockets of his pants.
"Ditto," said Mike, frowned sympathetically at his teacher.
Will nodded curtly. "I'll be at the refreshments table."
He left the sulking teenagers and crossed the decorated gym to the long, narrow table that held the deep punch bowl and scattered paper plates of pigs-in-a-blanket. He started stacking a plate with cocktail sausages and worrying about Buffy, who was either lying in bed, revelling in the fresh remorse of her losses or getting an early start patrolling in the cemetery to release her aggression. Either way, it didn't sound like she was okay and he debated whether he should call her that night when he saw a familiar face.
"Shelby Corcoran?"
"Will Schuester," greeted the tall woman, wearing a dark blue pencil skirt, "Nice to see you again."
"Does Rachel know you're here?"
"No, no," Shelby shook her head, nervously glancing over at her daughter who was avidly chatting with the parents of her adopted child, "I was just talking to Principal Figgins and he invited me to get a glass of punch at the dance... They're not that lively, are they?"
"It's been a rough couple months."
"Of course. Lima's always been... different. I have to admit I was nervous about coming back here."
"Are you back for good?"
Shelby nodded. "In fact I just paid a deposit on a nice little apartment for Beth and I."
"Good for you."
"Well, it's the best I can get on the salary McKinley's offering."
"You've got a job here? At McKinley?" Will raised an eyebrow, "As what?"
Shelby paused. "I'm the new guidance counselor."