"But you're not seriously, actually considering it?" Nadja asked, a hint of worry and surprise creeping into her tone. It was hard to say which emotion she felt more; Beth sure didn't know and she doubted Nadja had a clue either. "I mean, vampire. That's…"
"Not really that much farther along?" Beth asked in reply. "I'm already 50% there."
Nadja scrunched up her face in obvious skepticism. "But you really don't act like one. I mean, physicality aside, I can't say you're even the least bit vamp-y."
She sighed as the two stopped in front of her locker before class to gather her books. She'd explained to Nadja what needed to happen in order to rid themselves of the entity and his surges entirely. She hadn't reacted as violently as her parents had, but she had been taken aback. The moment Beth had said it, Nadja had gaped like a fish, opening and closing her mouth without really saying anything. The car ride to school had been awkward.
"It's not like there's much of a choice here," Beth reminded her. "Both my aunt and my Watcher spent the last five days trying to come up with something and they've found zilch. This is the only way to get rid of the entity."
"That's not true," Nadja stubbornly insisted.
"What, we instead ask someone else to give up their soul?" Beth retorted irritably. "Because that's my job as a slayer, let someone else do my job."
"Your job isn't to die," Nadja reminded her hotly. "And besides, why can't the Power Man just use one of the souls of the people he already killed, huh? Bet you didn't think of that."
"Because it has to be willing," she emphasized. "He can't just take someone's soul willy-nilly. That's dark magic."
"But why do you have to give up yours?" Nadja protested, even throwing in a little foot stamp for good measure.
"Because who else here has two souls, huh?" she questioned. "Unless you're suggesting we free Angelus again. Can't see how that could go bad."
"There!" Nadja shouted, drawing the attention of several students around them. It was still before first period, so the hallway was rather occupied by many other girls. "You admit that Angel losing his soul would be bad! You masked it in sarcasm, but you admitted it. Now why is that different from if you did? Wouldn't losing your human soul make you go all evil?"
"It's trickier than that," she assured. "My soul's different."
Nadja sighed in exasperation. "I don't get it. You've always been worried before about how losing your soul would make you evil, but now you're telling me this time would be different?"
"Because Nadja, this time it would be for a good cause," she reminded her. "Remember my prophecy? What if this is the apocalypse I'm supposed to divert? This dimensional rift guy is going to cause serious damage if we don't get him out, and I'm the one who can do it without technically dying."
"I think it'd be like dying," Nadja insisted. "You really think you'd be the same as a true vampire as you are now?"
That was a sticky question, one Beth pointedly ignored for the greater good. She wanted to help and this was the way she could do it. Imagine, her whole life told she was something bad, and now she was the one most easily ready to give up her soul to save everyone. It made sense. It felt…fitting, in a way.
"Probably," she said with a shrug. "The vamp parts already here anyway. Now let's go. We've got English."
"I'm not done with you just yet," Nadja told her, trailing after her as Beth strode off toward class. "Even Daniel thinks it's a bad idea."
"If you remember, he didn't say anything in the car."
Nadja waved the comment off with her hand. "Maybe he didn't say it in words, but he said it with his eyes. And his spirit."
She snorted. "I thought he was the empath, not you."
"I can be perceptive when I want to be," Nadja told her snidely. "Besides, it is a bad idea."
Beth whirled around to face Nadja, eyes hard. "You got a better one, then? Because we'd all like to hear it." When Nadja didn't immediately respond, she turned around again and walked into the classroom.
There were a few students sitting around, chatting to one another as Beth took a seat toward the back, away from everyone else. Nadja rolled her eyes and came down to sit beside Beth, lowering her voice to a more appropriate level, now that they were out of the loud hallway. "Just because it's the only plan we've got, doesn't mean it's a smart one," she noted, like she was quoting something. "You can't honestly believe this would end well. Beth, you don't even know what you would be like."
"Why does everyone assume I don't have a clue about being a vampire?" Beth hissed. "In case you didn't realize, but I've been living with one since I was a baby. And it's not like it sits quietly back in the corner of my mind, casually observing. I don't know how to explain it, but it's not like just some presence in my mind. It's a piece of me, Nadja. Maybe it's not obvious to you, but I know it's there. I know that part of me exists and it influences me; if not entirely, then moment to moment."
Nadja sighed, looking forlorn. "I just—I don't want to lose you," she admitted quietly. "Even with it in your head, do you know what it'll be like when it's the only thing in your head? Maybe you really should listen to your dad. He would know better than anyone else."
"It's not the same," Beth confirmed.
She gave her a long, sad look. "How would you know? You've never been either."
The bell rang before Beth could reply, the rest of the students filing into the classroom to fall into their seats just as their teacher took her place at her desk.
"Good morning class," Mrs. Birchman greeted, a spindly middle-aged woman with greying brown hair who always wore the same pair of dirty, old Keds. "We left off yesterday in the Iliad with Homer having just outsmarted the cyclops…"
"I have to do this," Beth whispered as their teacher droned on, giving them a brief overview of what they had covered only twenty-four hours ago. "I'm a slayer. It's what we do. We sacrifice ourselves for the greater good. Apocalypse comes and we're on the frontlines, ready to go."
"This isn't an apocalypse though," Nadja whispered back, looking down at her notebook and pretending to write when she was really drawing nonsensical shapes.
"It will be," Beth replied. "It's getting worse; haven't you heard?"
Nadja paused in her doodling for a moment before starting up again, her hand a little more erratic. "My beebee Esme might have mentioned something to my grandfather a few weeks ago."
"She and Willow are watching the pattern grow bigger," Beth explained. "They've noticed that he's getting stronger, or at least trying harder to get out. We don't have many options left before Bellevue is nothing but a crater, and I won't let that happen."
"Beth—" Nadja began, but was cut off when Mrs. Birchman cleared her throat loudly. Both girls looked up, wide-eyed, to see their teacher eyeing them critically, her arms folded expectantly.
"Anything you two would like to share with the class?" she asked, head tilted.
Nadja ducked her head and Beth looked at her friend before returning her eyes to her teacher. "Um, no, not really," she replied hesitantly, tapping her pen against the table. "We were just talkin—"
"About non-school related things," Mrs. Birchman finished, her voice dry and harsh. "And hardly Homer, I imagine."
"Sorry," Beth muttered.
"Don't make me separate you two," she warned before turning around to write something on the board.
Beth groaned inwardly, casting a sideways look at Nadja, who stared down at her notebook, expression troubled. Figuring she at least ought to apologize for getting them in trouble, she ripped off a corner of her paper and scribbled down a quick apology. Before she could complete the phrase "really sorry," a jolt caused her pen to slide across the paper, making a purposeless squiggle. It caused her to pause momentarily before a violent tremor shook the entire building, rattling desks across the floor and making books fall off their shelves.
Several of the students began to scream as most ducked down under their desks. Beth, only having real earthquake experience by proxy, grabbed Nadja's hand and rushed for the doorway. She could barely stay on her feet as the floor rocked and the walls began to sway. Bits and pieces of ceiling rained down on them as they scattered. Her fingers only just brushed the edge of the doorframe when a large crack spilt the wall ceiling to floor. It was the last thing she noticed before everything went black.
-.-
The distant, muffled sound of sirens stirred Beth. She let out a loud, hacking cough as she tried to sit up, only to bang her head against something hard. She dropped back down, letting out a hiss and rubbing the sore spot. She opened her eyes and momentarily panicked, before she realized it was just too dark to see anything. She reached out around her to try and feel out where she was, but drew back when she cut her hand on something sharp. One more pained hiss later and she was clutching her hand to her, really glad she was all up to date on her tetanus shots. At this point, she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do, being blind and all.
Hey genius, vampire much?
Suddenly remembering she could see better as a vampire, she morphed out into game-face, able to make out the grey shapes of the rubble around her. She remembered the quake and how the building came down shortly after. It must have been less than a minute after it started. She had been trying to reach the door—Nadja!
"Nadja?" she called out, her voice sounding loud to her own ears, and dull as it bounced off the rock and debris around her. She tried moving around in the space where she was trapped, trying to see if there was a crack or hole somewhere around where she could look through. Nadja had only been right behind her, so she couldn't be far.
"Nadja!" she called out again, navigating her hands around the rubble. The whole space was small, no room to sit up or even lay flat. She thought maybe of trying to move it, but she didn't know how unstable things were and didn't want anything to fall down on anyone. The entire school had been in session when the building went down, likely trapping just about everyone in the mess. And judging from the sound of the sirens, somebody was trying to get them out.
"Nadja!"
"Beth?" the weak reply made Beth's head snap to her right, where several beams and broken pieces of brick blocked her path. She crawled over to it as quickly as she could, mindful of the sharp rubble.
"Nadja?" she breathed, feeling at the debris obscuring her path. "Where are you?"
"I can't see, it's too dark," was the weak reply. "But close to you, I think. You sound close."
"Are you hurt?" Beth asked, fearing the answer. "Are you bleeding?"
"I can't move my feet," she admitted. "And it hurts to breath."
"You probably broke some ribs," Beth told her, working to keep her voice calm, even when she felt anything but.
"I figured that, yeah. I can wiggle my fingers though," Nadja informed her and Beth felt something brush up against her knee. She looked down to see Nadja's hands, her fingers poking out through a hole between broken bricks. She immediately reached down to grip her friend's hand.
"Beth?"
"Yeah, I'm right here," she replied. "And they're coming for us. Someone's coming for us. I could try and move—"
"No!" Nadja shouted, interrupting her. "Don't move anything. You don't know what could shift."
"I know, I know," she sighed, feeling helpless. She was a slayer for goddess' sake and this was all she could do? Hold her best friend's hand while she possibly laid there dying? She didn't think she'd ever felt so useless in her whole life.
"It's going to be alright," Nadja promised, squeezing Beth's hand. "Like you said, someone's coming. I can hear the sirens too."
"God, Nadja, I'm so sorry," Beth whispered, not sure if Nadja could hear her. "I'm so, so sorry."
-.-
The steady beeping on the monitor was unsettling. It wasn't supposed to be, considering that meant Nadja's heart was normal, but it only reminded her of those movies with the patients that died, the beeping becoming more erratic before flatlining. The nurse said that Nadja was stabilized, but it still put Beth on edge.
Sitting in the hospital bed, Nadja looked groggy and almost irritated with her eyebrows drawn together and her eyes squinched up. She wasn't though—at least Beth didn't think so—most likely putting too much thought into what was playing on the television screen. She'd just woken up after surgery to put her shattered leg back together; the doctor said she was lucky, considering the extent of the school's damage, to only walk away with a shattered leg, some broken ribs, and moderate bruising and cuts.
"I don't understand this show," Nadja informed her, looking sour about it. "Is it like some sort of sketch-type show?"
Beth looked up at the TV to see what she was watching. "Nadja, those are commercials."
She huffed. "I still don't get it."
"How are you feeling?" Beth asked instead.
She snorted. "Like the Wicked Witch of the East, I'm sure. Why does everyone keep asking me that? It was the only question out of my mother's mouth the whole time she was here!"
"I know, I was there," Beth reminded her. Being the super-fast healing and resilient slayer that she was, she'd gotten out with only a few scrapes and bruises, most of which were already fading. The paramedics hadn't questioned it, especially when her parents came running over to embrace her. What, did they really think a building would take her out? Pftt, no. "I think those pain meds are making you really grumpy."
"No, having a building collapse on me is making me really grumpy," Nadja corrected. "Turn it to the news. I want to see what they're saying about it."
"I really don't think—" Beth began, only stopping when Nadja made a shushing noise.
"I'm injured. Do as I say."
Sighing, Beth got up off the chair and strode over to the table where the nurse had placed the remote. She changed it to one of the local TV news stations, where they were in fact covering the collapse of the school. They were showing an aerial view of the now destroyed building, nothing but a pile of broken material. One could also see the large crack that had opened up and caused the initial disaster. It was weird, they said, because Bellevue didn't exist on a fault line. Huh. Funny that.
"Turn it up, I can't hear," Nadja whined and Beth did as she was demanded.
"…chers are still pulling people out of the wreckage," the news anchor said in his annoyingly calm and collected tone. "As it is, 27 have been found dead, with 21 students. It is likely search and rescue will continue into the night as people still lay trapped under the rubble."
"Happy?" Beth asked, now the grumpy one.
"Yes," she replied. "Do you think we know any of the dead?"
"Of course we do," Beth snapped.
"Hey, don't get snippy with me," she retorted. "I'm not the one who made the school collapse."
"I know!" Beth hissed, slamming the remote down and stalking back over to her chair and sitting down forcefully. Nadja only stared at her oddly.
"Nadja?" a familiar voice caught their attention and they turned to see Zack standing at the doorway.
"Oh god, you're here," Nadja mumbled, picking at the blanket covering her.
He came into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed, concern etched into his face. "I got a flight over as soon as I heard about the accident," he told her. "Are you alright?"
Nadja looked over at Beth with a "kill me" expression. "No, I'm dying," she told him waspishly.
"She's fine," Beth said, rolling her eyes. "The pain meds are making her short-tempered. She'll probably be rolling around in a wheelchair for a while though."
"Where are your parents?" he asked, looking around and noticing there was only Nadja and Beth.
"They went home," Nadja told him shortly.
"To get some of her stuff," Beth added. "She's staying overnight. They thought she'd be more comfortable with some things of her own."
"This pillow is terribly flat," Nadja admitted.
"So does anyone know what caused the fault line to open up?" Zack asked, looking between the two.
"I dropped a pin and it made this little crack, but then it got really big," Nadja began, arms widening for show.
"Another magical surge," Beth told him, cutting off Nadja's tale. "My aunt called while she was in surgery and informed me there had been another spike. It was localized though; it seems our entity is now trying different ways of freeing himself. He's getting desperate."
"Oh, don't start this all over again," Nadja groaned. "I might be doped up, but I remember this morning's conversation!"
"What conversation?" he asked, terribly lost, his eyes bouncing back and forth between the two girls.
"What? Did Beth here not tell you that we have a way to free the entity and send him home, no damage done?" Nadja asked in a falsely cheery tone, fake smile to match.
"Wait, so you figured it out?" he demanded. "You can send it back? Well, how come you haven't? Do certain planets need to be in alignment? Is it not the right part in the moon cycle?"
"No," Beth muttered, leaning back in her chair and avoiding eye contact oh-so stealthily. "He needs a soul."
There was a pause. "A what?" Zack asked.
"Dilo," Nadja hissed under her breath. "She said soul, stupid. Mule. You know, that spiritual thing within your body? Yeah, he says he needs one and he needs it willingly. Something to do with 'pure magic.' Sounds like a load of bull to me!"
Slowly, he turned his head to look at Beth, who took great interest in her nails. "Please tell me that the train of thought in my head wasn't the same as yours."
"Beth kindly volunteered," Nadja answered for her. "Zack, tell her that's a stupid idea and we're not going to do that period."
"Beth," he said softly, still trying to get her attention. "Is that you're idea?"
"No one has a better one," she mumbled, still looking at her hands. She'd cracked a nail when the school had fallen on them. She'd have to fix that once she got home. She'd opted to go straight to the hospital, worried about Nadja. Her friend was fine though, which was more than she could say about a lot of other students and teachers at St. Renevier's. They'd probably have the full list of the deceased out tomorrow, once they finished going through the entire disaster zone. But even that wasn't the end of it. She'd heard one girl—a freshman, barely fifteen—had lived, but was paralyzed from the neck down. They didn't know how permanent it was, but judging by the tone of the doctors, no one was hopeful.
"Nadja, I think we should give you some time to rest," he decided, looking away from Beth. "You've had a long day and need to recover. We'll come by tomorrow, okay? Come on, Beth."
She stood up as prompted, following him out of the room. "Are you going off to have a secret conversation without me?" Nadja called out after them, huffing loudly when they didn't answer her.
Zack quietly closed the door behind them, Beth standing out in the hallway, arms crossed. "So how'd you get out early?" she asked. "For school that is. I thought you had finals this week."
"I did," he told her stiltedly. "I had one tomorrow, but after I told my professor what happened, he decided to let me skip it. Said I got good enough grades all semester that he wasn't worried. College can be nice like that."
"Well, I'm sure Nadja's glad you're here," she said.
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Deep down, I'm sure too."
They stood looking at one another in silence, the tense feeling in the air growing bigger and bigger as neither one wanting to broach the topic. But she could all but taste the conflict and she was growing sick of the quiet.
"Are you going to try and convince me not to do it?" she asked abruptly.
He stared at her and she couldn't read the expression in his eyes. "Is there anything I could say that would convince you otherwise?" he asked, voice calm.
"No," she admitted. "That hasn't stopped anyone from trying though."
He scoffed, shaking his head. "I jus—I can't believe this is what you've come up with. Your soul, Beth? Really?"
He was angry, but she was angry too. She was angry that people were getting hurt—her friends were getting hurt, and she knew how to make it all stop. The school didn't need to haven fallen on Nadja. "Look at what happened, Zack!" she hissed, "Nadja's in the hospital—because of me! We've all been sitting on our hands here because we're too afraid to do what we need to. We have a way to stop this and if we had already done it, none of this would have happened. No one would have died!"
"Except you," he pointed out tersely.
She snorted. "I wouldn't be dead, I would just be—"
"Not yourself," he snapped. "You'd be different. I don't think you'd be you again. Maybe I've never known someone before and after they were turned, but I know enough to know that they change, inside and out. I know Elizabeth Joyce Summers and whatever would be standing where you were, wouldn't be you."
"It's not like I'm dying," she said, shaking her head. "Not like if someone else had to do this. And as if I'd stand back and let someone else take my place in this. I have the power to end this, Zack, and I'm going to! I have to."
"There must be some other way," he insisted. "What you're about to do is crazy!"
"There isn't," she stubbornly replied. "We've looked, Zack. Your family has looked and we can't come up with another way without getting someone else killed. Look, there's the prophecy about me—"
"Always about the prophecy," he muttered.
"—And maybe this is what it was talking about," she continued. "I've got two souls, so why not give one up to save the world?"
He shook his head again, his eyes going red, like he was about to cry. "Don't try and make me understand this, because I don't."
"Slayers sacrifice themselves all the time," she insisted. "It's how it was."
"And so that's supposed to make me think this isn't the most asinine decision you could come up with?" he bit out.
She reeled back at his tone, but kept a firm stance. "I'm doing this, and there isn't anything you can say to make me change my mind. I've already decided."
"Well don't expect me to stand by and just watch," he retorted before stalking off.
"Zack—" she called after him, wanting them to talk it out. When it happened, it would be soon, and she couldn't stand the idea of him being angry at her.
But he didn't even hesitate. He kept walking, until he turned the corner and she couldn't see him anymore, all the while feeling little pieces inside of her break off and fall apart.
"Did you fight?" Nadja called from inside her room. "I heard angry voices."
"It's fine," she replied, and she found herself wiping her eyes. Damn him for making her cry. "Everything's fine."
"Well then if everything's fine, can you change this channel? I don't like what's on."
She let out a shaky breath, trying to find it within herself to put on a brave face for Nadja before going back into the room.
-.-
Some, though Beth didn't know any, might have used the common phrase "tensions so thick you could cut it with a knife" to define the situation, she more of saw it as just hella awkward. But maybe that was too colloquial.
"I'm sorry," Willow said after a moment, playing the knife in the situation. Didn't do much though, as both her parents seemed to refuse to meet her eyes. Or give in to the obvious. It wasn't surprising to find out Beth was so stubborn when her parents could dig their heels in all the way to China.
"S'not your fault," her father said eventually, making his wife glare at him. Two down, one to go.
"Mum," Beth started awkwardly, fidgeting in her chair as her mother insisted upon staring out the living room window. Wasn't like grass could be that interesting.
"What do you want me to say?" she asked in a tense voice, her jaw locked. "Okay?"
"No one expects you to be fine with this," Willow quickly soothed. "No one likes this."
"I hate this!" she barked, turning on her heel to glare at them. "You cannot expect me to condone this!"
"We've exhausted our options," Beth reminded her, standing up and adopting the authoritative pose she'd so often seen her mother take around other slayers. It screamed seniority, but more importantly, it screamed finality. She'd made her decision and she was sticking to it. "People are dying because of us—because of me! We're sitting around, hoping for something better to come along, and all it's done is hurt the people we were meant to protect. Nadja almost died! What do you expect me to do?"
"Not this!" her mother screamed, her voice getting tight from emotion.
"Not what? Die?" Beth retorted. "Because that's what you think I'm doing: dying. Sacrificing myself for the greater good. Maybe I am, but isn't that what I was meant to do? What slayers do? And isn't that what I am, Mum? You know that; you've done it for people you love, so why can't I?"
Her mother shook her head. "No," she said forcefully, her fists clenching. "Not anymore. That's not how it is now."
She shrugged helplessly. "So no one's supposed to die anymore, why, because there's a million slayers now? That's not how it works."
"Buffy," her father started, his voice heavy. "What else is there?"
"No," she snapped, rounding on him. "You're supposed to be on my side! You're not supposed to let your daughter die!"
The emphasis she put on the last word made him flinch, but he didn't back down. "This is it, love," he told her softly. "Beth's made up her mind an' it's best we let her do it."
"This isn't like every other time, Spike," she hissed. "There's no soul to win back! It'll be gone! Poof!"
"This is our only option," Beth interrupted. "It's my soul, so I get to call the shots. The entity can take it. We need to end this, now, before anyone else dies. I won't have their lives on my conscious too."
Willow looked at Buffy pleadingly, who only looked away with her arms crossed. Rather suddenly, and jerkily, she strode out of the living room and the front door, the whole house shaking when she slammed it shut.
"Well, that's as much of an acceptance as we're going to get," Willow realized with a sigh.
"I'll go after her," Spike said, heaving himself up off the couch and following his wife out into the night.
Beth looked over at her aunt, who seemed so much more tired than she had ever seen her.
"Esme and I should be able to get in contact with the entity, let him know about what's going to happen," she stated almost mechanically. "After that, we can figure out when it's going to happen."
"Willow," Beth began.
Her aunt shook her head. "Don't ask me to be happy about this, or even accepting. I'm doing this because I know what's it's doing to you, just waiting around. You're too much like your mother. She didn't like waiting around either."
Beth sighed. "I tried waiting, Aunt Willow. I can't wait anymore. People are dying. At least if I do this, I can stop that. Maybe I won't be me after this, but at least I won't be dead."
Willow sighed, shaking her head. "You know, the old Watchers used to say that when someone was turned, they died not because they became a vampire, but because their soul moved out and a demon moved in. It looked like your friend, your neighbor, your mother, but there lived a demon in there."
"I guess for me the demon moved in early," she tried to joke, though it fell kind of flat when her aunt didn't laugh. Instead, she made a sort of hiccupping noise and pulled her niece into a what most normal people would say was a bone-crushing hug. Unsure of what to do, she patted her aunt on her back. It seemingly became too much for the women and she let Beth go, rushing off to her room.
Now alone, she stood in the middle of the living room, drumming her fingers against her legs. She figured she was supposed to act like an inmate on death row and like touch pictures and get all emotional and stuff. Except, she had a hard time doing it. Maybe because she was the only one who didn't feel like she was dying. Maybe she didn't know what it would be like living without her human soul, but it felt to her like it would be a more morally relaxed experience. After all, she already had the demon in her.
On a bit of a whim, she pulled out her phone, clicking through her contacts until she got to the one she was looking for. Her finger hovered over the call button; she was supposed to tell her loved ones, right? And Jackie sounded like a good start. He was like a brother to her and he never shied away from the vampire part of her; if anything, he embraced it. So shouldn't she just call him and be like, "hey, guess who's about to become dateable to you?" But something told her he'd be disappointed in her too and she was tired of disappointing people. So she pocketed her phone and headed for the stairs. Maybe she'd go write a memoir or a will or something—though it wasn't as if she had much to give (maybe Maea would want her knife collection—it was worth considering).
-.-
Beth sat on her bed, her fingers running over the fabric of her prom dress, rubbing the silky fabric between her fingers. Prom had obviously been cancelled, what with half the student body in the hospital, but Nadja had been insistent that they host their own. Like a Going Away party. A Going Away party for Beth. Except she wasn't really going anywhere, was she?
The dress had already been picked out months ago, back before the entity had made things really bad. At the time, her mother had done her best to steer Beth away from the black dresses, but in the end, it hadn't been necessary. A simple light blue dress had caught her eye, long, with a slit up the side (but not high enough to make her dad bark at her to return it). She had to admit it was really pretty and a part of her was happy she got the chance to wear it.
Her decision had left a chilling effect on the house, Buffy being the main cause of it. But as "Vampire Beth Day" approached, their seemed to be an almost intensity surrounding her interactions with her daughter. There was a fear there, and the intensity to which her mother upheld Nadja's request was a little scary. Was it a last hurrah—or maybe the continuation of denial? Would Buffy cry over her daughter not because she was growing up, but because she never would again?
"Found the camera!" her mother's loud voice reached her ears, pulling her from her own morbid thoughts. She'd let her mother fret over her all day-hair, nails, makeup-giving her everything Buffy had ever wanted when she had been told she was having a daughter. And Beth knew she had failed her a little, copying her dad's style and whining every time her mother suggested she put on "something nice," but today, she had almost reveled in the beauty time, feeling a connection with her mother as they fought over the right shade of blush. It made her wish she had done it sooner, so it wouldn't have been tinged with such sadness. Oh well.
"Oh, look at you," her mother cooed when she came down the steps, the smile on her face not reaching her eyes. She snapped a few photos and Beth did her best to look appropriately regal, like a real debutante coming down the stairs. She even posed at the banister, listening for the click of camera.
"Your friends are all outside," her father told her gruffly. He was unable to meet his daughter's eyes, knowing that if he got a real good look at her, he'd start bawling, which he didn't want. The sway of the fabric kept drawing his attention, until he couldn't help but look at her. It took his breath away and made his chest ache all the same. Had he been a fool when told he was becoming a dad, he had thought of seeing her grow up, sending her off to college, walking her down the aisle? Fuck, even grandkids had flitted through his mind. That entity had better hope the spell dropped him off in his universe; if he got left out here, Spike was going to go old school on him. And he knew how to make it hurt real good.
"I knew this was the one," Buffy commented, referring to the dress. "You look absolutely beautiful."
"Yeah love, give us a twirl," Spike asked. Beth rolled her eyes good-naturedly, but did as he asked.
"Real pretty," her mom said, her voice shallow and sounding ragged. She looked Beth over one more time before capturing her in a tight hug. Beth ignored how her shoulder got wet, embracing her mother fully.
"All thanks to you," she responded. "We all know I wouldn't be this pretty if I took after Dad."
"Oi!"
Buffy let out a small laugh, letting go of her daughter. "And yet everyone always tells me you take more after him. Your friends are already out back. You should take a look. Your dad did a great job with the lights."
"I'll be the judge of that," she responded with a sigh. Careful not to trip in her heels, she made her way toward the back door. Once outside, she was met with twinkling lights hanging overheard, the soft light illuminating her backyard. On the porch, seated at the table, were her friends Nadja, Daniel, Maea—and Zack. She was surprised to see him there, especially after they had last talked—or fought, really. He wasn't looking at her though, his eyes focused on the tablecloth.
They were all dressed up, even Maea, who had originally blanched at the idea of a backyard Prom. She seemed to hate dresses even more than Beth did. But when she heard the pleading tone in Beth's voice, she conceded, doning a simple black cocktail dress, her short red hair unstyled. And somehow, even though it wasn't his Prom, Zack still wore a suit, his hands running over the cloth of the table anxiously. Nadja elbowed him, making him look up. And when he did and saw Beth, his hands stopped and he stilled.
"Zack, breathe," Nadja reminded him, rolling her eyes. She'd gotten away with just using crutches, balking at the wheelchair. She was in a lot of pain until her ribs mended, leaving her in a sour mood. She had perked up a little when she had started planning the At-Home Prom. She'd bought a floor-length, simple violet dress, her hair accessorized with beaded flower pins. She'd been looking forward to this all year and now she couldn't even dance. It wasn't just the injury that made her crabby.
"Hey," Beth greeted, sitting down beside Daniel. "I hope it's to your liking, Nadja."
She harrumphed. "At least it's not raining."
"She likes it," Daniel told her, looking a little stiff in his suit. "She was staring at all the light earlier." He wore a bowtie, holding his chin high to show it off. It was red and polka-dotted.
"I know it's a bit weird," Beth added.
"It is not," Nadja muttered, crossing her hands over her chest, and slouching as best she could with busted ribs. "We need this. We need to have this before you—before you go away."
Nadja had since given up on trying to change her mind, especially since her parents had. Beth felt at peace with her decision, if not a little sad. And it was hard to sit at this table, see all of her friends, everyone she'd caused so much pain by what she was planning to do. Only Maea would meet her eyes, but that only made the pain in them that more visible. But she was tired of seeing them all hurt, knowing that she could fix that. All she had to do was give up one measly soul. Just one.
"Where I'm from," Maea stated, breaking the silence, "it was normal to remember the death of a fallen with a large gathering, a celebration of their life. We would host large festivals in remembrance of them. Something like this, except with more people. But you humans? You have funerals. You mourn loss."
"That's because I'm not exactly dying," Beth began to explain.
That made Maea frown even harder. "I do not think you understand what taking a soul means then."
"I think I explained to you that I have two."
She chuckled humorlessly, shaking her head. "A human soul is vastly different than a demon soul. The absence of the former creates a difference, even in the absence of the latter. While your body may not be dying, you as you are now might as well be. It's a metaphorical death."
"I know, I've heard it all before," she groaned.
"Yes, several times," Nadja confirmed. "We keep hoping that if we hammer it in, it'll finally stick. So far it hasn't."
"This is our only option," Beth reminded them all. "And I won't let someone else go in my place. I can't. If I'm the only person who won't truly drop dead on the spot, then I'm not going to let anyone else take my place."
"Good," Zack bit in. "Then if that's settled, can we stop talking about it and do what we're supposed to, pretend it isn't happening?"
The words felt like a punch to the gut, leaving her reeling. She tried to look to him to offer some sort of solace, but he wouldn't look at her. He was slouched in his seat, hands splayed out on the table, his eyes misty.
"I suppose this makeshift dance wouldn't be complete without dancing," Daniel decided, turning to Maea. "May I?"
"Nope," she replied, getting up and nearly yanking Beth up with her by her arm. Daniel looked taken aback, but only for a moment, before turning to Zack and asking, "As they say in Rome, do as the Roman does?"
"She's been to Rome, but she's not Roman," Zack remarked, not budging. Nadja watched unhappily as Maea escorted Beth to the dance floor.
"God this cast is so stupid," she muttered.
"We can work around it," Daniel claimed. "Come on."
She sighed, taking his hand and joining the two women on the floor.
Beth let Maea take lead, figuring it would only turn into a fight if she tried to contest it. Maea was pretty good on her feet, having lived long enough to learn a few snazzy moves, leaving Beth to make up the footwork as she went.
"You sure about this?" Maea asked, her voice void of emotion.
She nodded. "As sure as I can be."
Maea's chin set and she dipped Beth unexpectedly, making her yip in surprise.
"You know that's what happened to her," Maea stated.
"Who?" she asked, trying to gain back equilibrium.
"The other slayer. She was turned into a vampire." Beth stilled as Maea brought her back up, her gaze strong. "I know it won't be the same, but it shares the same roots. I cannot help but feel a parallel."
"Wh—what did you do?"
Maea shrugged, whirling Beth around. "What I had to."
Beth bit her lip, nodding. "Maea?"
"Mm?"
"If this does go bad, as my friend, would you—would you be able to take the necessary steps, to make sure it doesn't go terribly? You know like, as insurance—in case things go really bad."
Maea looked troubled, but she met Beth's eyes with understanding and begrudging acceptance. "I will stand with you," she agreed, "and I will carry out my duty to you as I see fit. I will not let harm befall those you care for."
"Thank you," she replied softly. "I know my parents are strong, but I don't think they'd be able to, even if they had to, you know?"
Maea nodded sagely. "No, I cannot imagine what it must be like to lose a child like that, but I do know what's it's like to lose someone I love like that. I will do it, but only because you asked."
"I don't feel like I'll go all murder-happy," she admitted. "I've had this vampire in me the whole time, hiding in the shadows. But, well—"
"You can never be certain," Maea agreed. "You will be different, Beth. I don't know in what way you'll change, but it won't be you as we know it. You won't feel like your usual self."
"I know," she said. "I know everyone thinks that I'm just being real cavalier about this, and thinking everything will be all fine and dandy, but I know things are going to change. I won't be the same. But I also don't think it'll be like any other human who becomes a vampire. I'm not like everyone else."
"No, you most certainly are not."
"Can I cut in?"
Maea dipped Beth as the song ended, far enough that her head fell back and she saw Zack standing behind her, with his hand out in offering. Maea pulled her up quickly, making her yip again, before spinning her around to face him. His expression was guarded and her choice weighed heavily on her heart. She took his hand though, unsure of what to say.
They started off kind of awkward; Nadja had always said he couldn't dance, and that appeared to be true; he mostly shuffled. She didn't dance either, except she did. That's what her dad said, wasn't it? A slayer didn't fight; they danced. She placed her other hand on his shoulder and his on her back, where she could feel the heated skin of his palm on her. They swayed together, to a soft rock ballad—she didn't know what, her mom had made the playlist—closer together than she was sure they had ever been. Normally, she expected that would have made her swoon. Tonight though, it made her feel like crying.
"I'm surprised you came," she said after a moment, her voice low.
She felt his hand twitch on her back before it moved like it always did when he was nervous, his fingers tracing invisible lines on her skin that made her shiver.
"And miss Prom?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light. "Nah. One time wasn't enough for me."
She chuckled, resting her head against his shoulder. Standing this close, she hadn't ever realized just how much taller he was than her—so gangly. "I think one is enough for me," she decided. "Though, I'm not sure how much this one counts. I think I like it better than actual Prom though. Too many people." There was another long pause before she blurted out, "Sorry."
"Are you apologizing because you've changed your mind?" he asked, his voice tight.
"I can't," she told him. "I have to do it."
"Then stop apologizing. Believe in what you do and don't apologize for it if you think it's the right thing. People don't apologize for doing the right thing."
"Sure they do," she replied, moving her head back so she could look him in the eyes. "Because sometimes the right thing does hurt. And I'm not sorry for doing it, I'm sorry for hurting you—all of you. But this is my path. I think this is why I'm here, Zack. I wasn't put on earth as some cruel joke—at least I'm pretty sure of that now."
He laughed humorlessly. "And how is you becoming an important figure in so many lives just for you to sacrifice yourself not a cruel joke?"
She paused for words, wanting to convey everything she felt about her choice to him. Maybe he'd never be happy about it, but maybe she could at least make him understand. "I have purpose," she responded. "I've always wanted to have purpose. All these years and all everyone had wanted to do was take my soul. Remember when those teachers try to steal it to open up a Hellmouth? Or when Baba tried to force it out of me? And hell, even James tried to take my soul by turning me. But this is now on my terms. I get to decide who takes my soul and for what. It's my purpose and I'll get to save people in the process. I'll get to save the people I care about. I'll get to save you."
"I didn't ask to be saved," he told her quietly.
"Few actually do," she reminded him. "And besides, you're a guy. None of you ever actually admit to needing to be saved. Think it makes them look all weak and stuff."
"This isn't about me wanting to be saved or not," he insisted, his hand tightening on her back. "You're not coming back. We're going to lose you, Beth. I'm going to lose you."
"We don't know what's on the other side," she told him softly. "I've never lived without the demon. I know sometimes you probably pretend it's not there—"
"I have never pretended that," he interrupted harshly. "I've known what you are the whole time, and I don't care. To lose any part of you—it means whatever's left isn't you."
"You don't think there'll even be a hint of me?" she asked, her voice tiny.
"Oh, I know there will be," he told her bitterly, "but it'll be distorted and shriveled up." He paused, twirling her, before bringing her back, an intense look in his eyes. He seemed tenser too, saying, "You know, everyone thinks I hate vampires because of my family history. And that's part of it, I won't lie. But you know what the other part is? It's that vampires look like the people you care about and they can even act like them sometimes, but it's a lie. It's a warped lie meant to trick you and it's cruel. Maybe you'll be different—I don't know, you always are—but right now all I know is you won't be exactly you. And that hurts."
"And that's why I'm sorry," she finished, "because I don't want hurt you. Ever. I don't want to hurt any of you. But that also means I have to sacrifice myself to make sure no one ever gets hurt again."
"That's stupid," he murmured. "You can't stop hurt. It's all a part of living."
"Then let's just have this moment," she decided. "This is our moment, and we don't have to let anything else ruin that."
"You're right," he agreed, looking regretful. "Too bad my last moment with you will be the memory of my bad dancing. Promise me that when you become a vampire, you won't hold this against me and just kill me quickly."
"Stop," she told him. "I wouldn't kill you. I like you, Zack. Even if I was a vampire, I would like you."
"Just tell me you're not going to feel differently about me afterward," he asked, eyes pleading. "Tell me I'm always just going to be Zack to you."
"I promise," she assured. It was true that the vampire part of her was always there, lurking in her mind, and so she felt what it felt. And there wasn't a part of her right now that wanted him dead.
Nadja watched with trepidation as Beth and Zack talked amongst each other, their voices so low she couldn't hear what was being said over the music. Damn, she wished she could have had even just a smidgen of Beth's super-duper vampire-slayer hearing. Or maybe it was just the vampire part of her that made her hearing good. She really wasn't sure where the slayer ended and the vampire began.
"You okay?" Daniel asked, making her pull her eyes away from the couple.
"No, my friend's about to die," she stated bluntly.
He shook his head. "No, not that. I felt a shift. It's something different."
She sighed in exasperation. Of course, no emotions were private with an empath around. "It's pretty obvious that Zack's got a crush, right?" she asked him, gesturing with her chin toward the duo.
Daniel spun them around to get a look at the two as they swayed close together, Zack's grip on Beth looking too tight to be comfortable on anyone else, but probably just fine for her. "He gets bright when she's around," he told her. "Although, I haven't really seen him not around her, so maybe he's always bright."
Another exasperated sigh. "Trust me, he's smitten. It's just I didn't realize until now that maybe it's not totally unrequited."
"You're just now picking that up?" he inquired, sounding surprised.
"Oh, we can't all have the skinny on other people's emotions," she admonished. "I'd always hoped she'd have better taste."
He made a small snort of amusement. "I think it's good," he disagreed. "They shine around each other."
They stopped dancing when Buffy brought out food, rejoining at the table, where Nadja was quick to take a jab at Zack's dancing skills. Too soon though, the night grew late and they all knew things had to end.
"So I guess this is it," Beth started, her voice low. "Thanks for coming. I know this isn't easy—"
"I would consider Rocket Science easier than this," Nadja cut in rudely.
"Can you please stop?" Beth huffed, getting irritated. "This is my last time with you; can't you act a little better?"
"No!" Nadja shouted. "I can't you dilo because I'm going to miss you!" Blinking rapidly, Nadja ducked her head as she tried to regain composure.
"I know," she told her softly, "and I'm sorry, but I have to do this. I have to."
"Isn't there some other way?" Nadja pleaded, tears growing in the corner of her eyes. "You've got that all-knowing Council, generations of slayers who have done endlessly phenomenal things. Isn't there another way?"
She sighed, looking downward. "Not unless you have the power to release an entity from between dimensional walls, like one would a hamster."
Nadja choked back a bark of laughter, muffling it with tears. "Then I'm just going to have to stand beside you and your decision, huh? Because that's what friends do."
"I'm sorry for coming into your lives like this and then leaving in such a dramatic fashion," Beth apologized, looking around the table. "I swear I didn't intend for this."
Zack smiled wryly. "I always felt you were the one for big flourishes."
"So is this goodbye then?" Daniel asked, looking forlorn.
"I guess it is," she realized. "I don't want a big show when it happens. I think it'll just be me and my parents. Feels like a family moment."
Daniel nodded. "I wish you luck and I'd like to thank you for being my friend. Not many people have opted to do that in my life, but you did, and I am grateful for it."
"I am as well," Maea added. "Even if only for a short while, you were someone I found worth knowing, Beth. I won't ever forget you."
"Yeah, you're a good friend," Nadja concluded, her voice sounding thick.
Daniel was the first to go, surprising Beth with a tight hug. He ended it with a firm nod before leaving, his stride oh so carefully planned. Maea left next, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "This time around, I won't let the Council forget you," she promised. "I won't make the same mistake twice."
Nadja and Zack lingered, having arrived together.
"You better be waiting for me in the afterlife," Nadja grumbled, getting up. She settled in her crutches, trying to keep a strong face.
"Promise," she guaranteed, hugging Nadja as tightly as she could without hurting her. Her first friend in Bellevue and her best friend. It was like ripping off a limb having to let go.
"You coming?" Nadja asked, turning to Zack and seeing he wasn't following her.
"I'll meet you in a second," he responded and Nadja shrugged, hobbling off toward his car. He and Beth stood silently, eyes looking at one another then averting.
"Zack—" she started.
"I can't believe this is it," he interrupted. "You were always such a force in my life, I can't believe that this is how it ends."
She shrugged a little helplessly. "As they say, some things go not with a bang, but a whimper."
"You're worth more than that," he said, a sad smile on his lips. "I'm never going to be able to forget you." He pulled her into a tight hug, crushing her against him. She wrapped her arms around him, just as tightly. She felt something wet in her hair and knew he was crying.
"I'll be seeing you," she promised as he pulled back.
"No, I don't think that's a good idea," he decided. "Bye Beth."
"Bye," she echoed as he left. From inside the house, Spike locked eyes with him, a knowing look only a father could have. Zack looked away quickly, hurrying toward his car where Nadja was waiting.