Frowning at herself in the mirror, Beth did another little turn as she studied herself. Was it appropriate to be wearing colors for an event like this? She felt like she was supposed to be wearing black. But that was normally reserved for funerals and she wasn't dying—well, at least not in the conventional sense. Was there even a sort of dress code for something like this? What did one wear to sacrifice their soul to save the world? White?
She considered it for a moment.
Unfortunately, after a quick look through her closet, she realized she didn't own anything that was only white. Besides, it would probably only look right if it was some girly, flowy dress, which she didn't even own in darker colors. She found a white band shirt though and threw that on.
Maybe she was meant to go out looking like herself, she considered. She wasn't concerned with making a pretty corpse anyway (because, let's face it; she had a lot of pent-up anger and as a vampire, that was going to become full frontal. She was meeting the business end of a stake eventually and then she'd only be a pile of dust). That worked fine and dandy with her. She pulled on her studded leather jacket, the one her father bought for her some few years back. It had been too big then, but she grew into it.
One final look-over in the mirror and she nodded her head in affirmation. This was the way she was going out: in her own style, down to the Docs on her feet.
She met her parents down in the foyer, a somber mood permeating every air particle in the room. Andrew was standing in the doorway of the lounge, fiddling with the bag of supplies he had brought, and trying to push the bad thoughts from his mind.
"Well, I guess it's time," Beth announced, looking over her parents and Watcher, before turning to face Willow who was standing across from Andrew. She'd be saying goodbye to her aunt now, as Willow had opted out of coming, sure she would be a wreck the entire time. It was probably true though, as tears were already streaming down her face.
"Oh Bethie," she whispered, pulling Beth into a tight hug. Beth hugged her back, taking in a deep breath of that earthy, sparky scent her aunt had. She didn't know if she'd ever get a hug like this again. She wasn't sure of what anything would look like after this.
"Let's get this goin'," her dad said, his voice husky. "Our window right now is slim."
Buffy didn't say anything. She had settled into business mode, the stony look overcoming her face. Beth loved her mother, more than she could say, so she hoped she wouldn't say anything nasty after she lost her soul. Same for her father, she loved him too. But if she did, she hoped it made it easier to kill her. If not, she'd already given Andrew Maea's number. "She'll know what to do," she had told him (he didn't like those words). Dying was okay though; she wasn't afraid. She wasn't scared of the vampire like everyone else was, even her own dad. It was a part of her and it was the part of her that was making it possible for her to save the world. That made it a bit of alright.
As they were turning to leave, there was a frantic knocking on the door. Grumbling to himself, Spike threw open the door with an uttered, harsh, "What?"
It was Zack, and he was standing at the door wide-eyed and breathless. "Oh good, you haven't left," he got out, pushing his way inside. Not like it was hard; her dad might as well have laid out the red carpet for him with all the force he was applying.
"Zack?" Beth asked. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm coming," he told her, and she laughed.
"Uh, no you're not," she told him. "How did you even know we were going today?"
"Nadja told me," he answered.
"You told Nadja?" Spike asked.
"No, I didn't tell Nadja," she argued. "How does Nadja know?"
Zack rolled his eyes. "Your aunt and my aunt were talking about it in front of Nadja and so of course she was grumbling about it in front of me. Okay? That's how I know."
"Red," Spike sighed, hanging his head.
"What?" Willow squeaked. "I was sad! I'm allowed to talk to my girlfriend about things that sadden me!"
"I already told you I wanted it to be a small affair," Beth said, turning her attention back to her friend. "I don't want to make a party out of this."
"What, are you afraid you'll immediately go homicidal and try to kill me?" he asked, making her wince. "See? Despite your hero bravado, you're still worried. You think you're going to be evil, don't you?"
"You're the one who keeps bringing it up. And this isn't about me possibly being evil," she protested.
"Yes, it is," he insisted. "And I don't care. I want to be there. I can take care of myself you know. Magic, remember?"
"I just don't think it's a good idea," she tried again, already feeling her resolve crumble. God, she was just giving everyone everything today, wasn't she?
"Well, I think the whole ordeal's a bad idea," he claimed. "I'll show up anyway. You don't think I don't know how to find you? I've done tracking spells before. They're not hard."
The look in his eyes told her to take that threat very seriously and so she sighed, knowing that if he was there, it was better she knew where rather than him randomly showing up.
"Fine," she griped, throwing up her hands. "You can come too."
"Beth," her father warned.
"Hey, it's my event, I get to decide who can come and who can't," she retorted. She eyed Zack. This whole "feelings" thing was really becoming a bummer.
The group, now with Zack in tow, piled into her mom's car, taking the drive toward their destination. Of course, it was only fitting she supposed that the location Willow ended up pinpointing for where the entity would come through would be the cave Baba had taken her to those couple of years ago. She hadn't seemed surprised, even suggesting that Baba's exit out of this dimension might have even been what caught the entity in the first place; supposedly, time didn't add up well between dimensions and Beth didn't ask for much of an explanation, afraid it would only make her head hurt.
When they arrived, everyone got quick to work, pulling out whatever it was that Andrew had brought.
"How much longer we got?" Beth asked, looking at her watch.
"Fifteen minutes," her mother replied, digging through the trunk of the car for flashlights. She tossed one at Beth, who caught it deftly. There would be no lit flames in that cave tonight. It was going to be dark.
The group made their perilous journey through the cave, trying their best not to slip on rocks. Zack needed the most help, and Beth kept a firm hold on his elbow to keep him from crashing to the floor. Soon enough though they were back in the antechamber, Pride Rock and all.
"It looks smaller," Beth decided, shining her flashlight around to get a better look.
"Maybe you've just gotten bigger," her father said, his voice sounding somewhat choked up at the end. At his tone, Buffy felt some of her resolve crumble. After this, Beth wasn't going to get any bigger. It wasn't right for a daughter to die before her mother, but there wasn't anything she could do. Beth had set her mind to it. And maybe this was what the prophecy was all about. Though, if the Powers That Be had really granted her and Spike a child just so they could use her to save the world and take her away, they had better plan on never letting Buffy die again. Because once she did, they were going to hear about it (and by hear about it, she meant pain. Long, hard, physical pain).
"Are you supposed to stand on it?" Zack asked, his flashlight beam bouncing around the room until he found the rock in question.
"Who knows?" she replied. "I've never done one of these before. They seem pretty informal to me."
"There's, erm, a list," Andrew spoke up, hefting the backpack off his shoulders and letting to drop to the rocky floor with a dull thump. "Willow made some directions. She would have been here except—"
"Too emotional of a moment for her?" Zack finished.
"She wanted comfort," Buffy interjected. "And she wasn't going to bring Esme along. Small affair, right?" She glanced over at Zack, who was currently doing his best impression of an unassuming guy as he quickly averted his gaze, pretending he didn't realize Buffy was all but trying to burn a hole through him. He had been invited—even if the invite probably fell under coercion.
Beth watched as Andrew set about the cave, pouring sand and burning incense. Being in the cave reminded her too much of her unfortunate run-in with Baba, though it seemed almost fitting that she be back here in order to complete the ritual. Though it did remind her that there ran a chance that the entity would be no more successful than Baba had been. Results may vary.
It took about ten minutes, but once Andrew had finished, there was a circle of sand on the ground which she was instructed to stand away from. Apparently, this circle was not for her but to localize the entity and bring him to that exact point.
"So this is it," Zack finally spoke, looking around. "What, we've got…"
"Less than five minutes," Buffy finished, walking over to her daughter. "Are you sure you want to do this? It's never too late to back out."
"I want to," Beth promised. "It wouldn't be right if someone else did it. "
Her mother smiled weakly, reaching out and hugging her daughter. "You get the self-righteous attitude from me, don't you?" she asked quietly.
"And the self-sacrificing too," Beth added. "Though, now that I think about it, you both might have contributed to that."
"I love you, Beth, so, so much."
"An' we couldn't be more proud of you," her father joined in, embracing her as well, making it a family hug mosh pit. "Never could have imagined having you in my life an' though it'll never be long enough, I'll never wish for a better daughter."
Standing some few feet away, Andrew and Zack watched the familial embrace. "Do you think we should join?" Andrew asked.
"No, I don't think they'll take too kindly to us crashing that family moment," Zack decided, although it'd be any wonder which one of them Spike would hate more for interrupting. Toss-up really.
Too soon though, it had to end. Static filled the cave followed by a loud cracking noise. Spike and Buffy moved backward, if not hesitantly, to stand beside Andrew and Zack. Beth turned to face the entity, keeping her expression neutral. Was it too late to say she was a little afraid? There was an aspect of the unknown here and she never really liked not knowing.
"Slayer," the entity asked as the glowing crack spread wider. It seemed brighter than normal and she had to squint a little to face it.
"That would be me," she greeted.
"You have voluntarily offered up your life to free me?" it asked, its voidless voice filling her head.
She nodded. "I have."
"Then let us not waste time," he responded.
A rumble carried through the antechamber, making rocks fall from their cliffs and skitter across the floor. A blue, glowing pattern emerged on the ground, outward from the circle Andrew had made. The lines flew out across the floor, climbing up the walls to meet on the ceiling above them. It cast the antechamber into an eerie blue light and Beth clicked off her flashlight, casting it aside.
"The task is simple," it told her. "All you must do is repeat this phrase and I will do the rest. You will be honored amongst your people for your sacrifice."
Looking over her shoulder at the four people who had gathered to see her at the end, she smiled. "I know," she responded. Maybe she'd never gained the respect of her peers, but she had the love and acceptance of her friends and family—you know, those people who really mattered.
"Are you ready?" it asked, its voice booming.
She smirked. "Born ready," she quipped.
"Then say these words: Me spondeo memet ut tui. Mea cordis, corporis, et spiritus es tua," it told her.
Of course, it had to be Latin; out of all the languages she was proficient in—especially all the old-as-dirt ones—it was the only one she didn't have a good grip on. She even knew goddamn Sanskrit, so why was magic never done in that?
Letting out a deep breath, she prepared herself to completely butcher the words. This was how she was going out apparently, stumbling and gargling out a dead language (Good thing Willow wasn't here to see it, she'd probably cry). Opening her mouth, she began, "Me sp—"
"Me Spondeo meme ut tui. Mea cordis, corporis, et spiritus es tua!"
That sounded perfect; exactly like how the entity had uttered it. Except, funny thing, it didn't come out of her mouth. It came out of someone else's.
With a sense of dread, she turned her head and saw Zack. He had come running forward, stopping short of Beth. He was looking her in the eyes, a spark of determination in them. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. Had he—?
"Zack?" she asked hesitantly, not believing what she was seeing, not wanting to believe what she had heard. But it had been his voice; she'd know it anywhere. She reached out her hand toward him and he did the same, their fingers just barely brushing. She searched his gaze, desperately trying to find reason for what he had just done.
"I'm not sorry," he breathed out before his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he collapsed on the rock. She was suddenly screaming, rushing to him. She slid to a stop at his side, her knees banging against the uneven stone floor. Cradling his head, her eyes searched over his body, not sure what she was looking for—maybe a sign of life? She grasped his shoulder, shaking him, trying to get him to wake up. "Zack," she whispered, her throat going tight. "Zack!" He didn't budge.
Her shout startled her parents into action, who had been just as shocked by Zack's actions as she had been. He had moved so quickly and so suddenly, that neither had seen him move and yet there he was, now slumped over several feet from where he had been standing. They were crouching by her side, just as floored by his sudden action.
Beth, still shaking him, called out his name rapidly, urgently, hoping for something—a twitch of a finger, muscle, eyelid. She got nothing. He was limp in her hold and a terrible, gripping reality was telling her that if she vamped out, she wouldn't hear his heartbeat. "No, Zack!"
Feeling helpless, having no power but to hold him in her arms, she turned her head to look back toward the crack where the entity resided. "Give it back!" she yelled, her voice hoarse. "It's me, not him, so give it back!"
The entity didn't respond to her desperate cries and she couldn't tell if it was watching, let alone comprehending. Did it understand the value of a soul for the life it created, beyond the power it produced? She didn't know if it cared.
Feeling more and more hysterical as tears streamed down her face and unto Zack's slack and still one, her fingers trailed down his face to his neck where his pulse was supposed to be. "Zack," she cried again when she felt nothing but smooth skin. There was no beat, no pulse, nothing to signify life. And yet, in her mind, she still pleaded with whoever would listen to bring him back, for him to wake up and she could slap him for doing something so stupid. Did he not understand that she was the hero? She gave her life, not him. Thoughts raced in her mind. Is that why he had wanted to come? Had this been his plan? He couldn't live in a world without her, could he? Didn't he know she felt the same?
Finally, the entity spoke, its void-filled voice a haunting call in the chamber. "That I can honestly say, was not something I saw coming," it spoke, sounding almost amused to Beth's ears. "But it will do, I suppose."
She let out a snarl, getting up to throw herself at the entity, dimensional rip be damned. She didn't care if it was some ball of energy with no physical form; in her grief, she'd find a way to hit it. But the blue lights began to recede, the crack fading with it. By the time she threw her fist through the rift, it was gone, nothing but empty air. She was panting, her breath labored and she let out another scream. How dare it?
"Beth!" her mother's alarmed voice called out from beside Zack's still form. She turned to see him fading, like he was blinking out of existence.
"No!" she screamed, rushing to grab his arm. But by the time she did, she felt only slight resistance before he faded completely, gone. "That wasn't a part of the deal!" she screamed into open air, knowing he had to be able to hear her. "Give him back!"
"Beth!" her mother called out again, this time her voice heavy with concern. She grabbed onto her daughter's shoulders, pulling her backward. "Beth!"
She stopped screaming and turned to look at her mom, her fists clenching and unclenching. Buffy could see clearly in her daughter's eyes that she didn't want to hear it, couldn't say it, but she knew it had to be done.
"Beth, he's gone."
She choked out a sob before falling into her mother, who took her up into a tight hold. Andrew watched it all in shock, swaying on his feet. He had been standing right bedside Zack but had not thought to grab him when he saw the boy move. He hadn't expected him to do that.
Crouched beside Buffy, Spike could only stare helplessly back at his wife as their only child sobbed uncontrollably into her mother's arms. He saw his relief reflected back in her own: relief that their daughter was still alive, but overcome with sadness of the cost.
Buffy sat on the floor, rocking her daughter as she cried, running her hands through her hair. There were no words of comfort to offer, nothing she could say to make it better. Zack had given his life for her; what was there to be done to make anything better? The entity hadn't even left a body to be properly buried and grieved. Buffy had never been on this side of the sacrifice; she didn't know what it felt like.
Spike did though and he wrapped his arms around his daughter, his heart crying out to her, feeling her pain. He knew Zack had to be infatuated with his daughter and he was beginning to suspect the same of her (she'd crumbled pretty quickly when he asked to come, didn't she?), but such a feeling didn't fully encapsulate his sacrifice. Had this been the plan all along? He only knew that when Buffy had died, he would have given anything to have been the one to take her place. But unlike Zack, he had been given no forewarning.
Beth knew her parents were holding her, could hear the sound of her mother's soft voice as she whispered things into her hair, but she didn't hear what they were, couldn't focus on anything outside of her head. All she could see was Zack slumping forward on repeat, over and over in her head, playing like some macabre movie trailer. She curled up in on herself, her hands pressing down into her chest, trying to put some stop to the pain radiating out. She couldn't take that it was over; that it was the end of Zack. There was nothing more, not even a body to bury. God, what was she going to tell Nadja?
I'm not sorry.
She heard those words on repeat in her head too, his voice still sharp in her mind, the convictions behind the words just ringing in her ears. Every word was a stab to her heart but she refused to stop hearing them, not wanting to let go of that last piece of him. She'd never hear his voice again. And with that realization, she let out another round of sobs.
"We should get going," Spike said gruffly, after what felt like an eternity in the cave. He didn't think they should stay long, wanting to move Beth out of here, the place where her friend died. It couldn't be good to keep her here, and besides, something about the cave made him feel antsy now. Something was off and he didn't know if it was just him or if it had something to do with the sudden and unexpected death of Zackariah Kalder, now a martyr.
"Okay," Buffy said softly, moving her arms to lift up her daughter. She hadn't carried Beth in a long time, not since she was little, but despite the change in size, she lifted her with ease, slayer strength and all that. Beth didn't protest, curling up even further into her mother. Besides the occasionally shuddering sob that wracked her body, Beth made no other signs of movement, and it broke Buffy's heart knowing there was nothing she could do.
Spike led the way out of the cave, Buffy behind him with Beth in her arms, Andrew trailed behind them, feeling quite feeble. He'd never seen Beth like this, not ever, not even when she had that breakdown when she was eleven. Even then she had still been spitting words, shouting as she cried; this was so much more silent. The absence of anger scared him. It was like Beth had completely broken down. He knew she would recover; she was strong and had support, but it hurt him to know that this was a pain she could carry with her always. She'd always feel like she had killed her friend. And he knew and thing or two about that.
When they got outside, Buffy immediately settled Beth into the back seat of the car, sliding in behind her and wrapping her arms once more around her daughter. Spike glanced into the car, eyes still worried, before shutting the door and getting into the driver's seat. He could hear his wife whispering to their daughter, but he didn't know what she was saying, and he certainly didn't know if it would help.
They drove out of the woods toward the road, the car ride back still somber and heavy with grief. Beth might have still been alive, but it was a law of equal exchange. If she got to live, someone else had to die. And somebody still had to grieve.
Once at home, Buffy quietly brought Beth upstairs, leaving the two men standing down in the foyer. Spike tracked his wife's and daughter's movements until he couldn't see them. He didn't move until he heard Beth's door shut.
"I didn't think—" Andrew began, cutting himself off.
Spike let out a breath. "No one did. Never thought he had it in 'im. Saw 'im as more of a coward. Guess there are forces strong enough even to make the most spineless of men into heroes."
"He didn't even hesitate," Andrew remembered. "He flung himself forward, without thought of himself."
He narrowed his eyes at the Watcher. "Now, don't go makin' some romantic story out of this; you write the truth."
"I wasn't going to!" he replied, eyes wide in offense to being accused of such. "I wouldn't!"
He snorted. "What, like you didn't do it when I died?"
"It was different then," Andrew insisted stubbornly. "I was different. I'm a Watcher now. I'll tell it exactly as I saw it. But he'll be remembered for his sacrifice. He deserves to be more than a footnote."
"Agreed," Spike murmured.
"Now what?" Andrew asked after a beat.
"Now? Now we have to tell his mum an' dad," he explained. "Not a pretty conversation, I am sure. Another Kalderash life lost due to an Aurelian. Think it'll make them hate us even more?"
"They can't blame Beth," Andrew insisted. "She didn't know he was going to do that. None of us did."
"Funny thing about blame when it comes to death," he stated. "Nothin' about it has to make sense."
Andrew huffed. "And what about Beth? She looked almost catatonic once she stopped crying. She was moving so mechanically."
"All we can do is wait," Spike told him. "No magic cure for heartache unfortunately. All we can do is make sure she doesn't go about blamin' herself."
"Good luck with that," Andrew murmured, sitting himself down in the sitting room, head resting in his hands. He knew he ought to start recording what had happened, to avoid sleep and time messing with his memory, but the moment felt wrong. He couldn't find it within himself to get up and leave for home.
"Are you going to call Willow?" Andrew asked when he saw Spike fiddling with his phone.
"Willow, Giles, Zack's parents," he listed. "Might as well call the whole lot. They'll be hearin' about it eventually."
-.-
It took a lot of not moving or saying anything before Beth's mother finally left her alone, curled up on her bed. She heard the click of the door as it closed and her mother's retreating footsteps. She didn't want her mother, with concern etched deep in her features, hovering over her. She wanted to be left alone, to let her grief envelope her and pull her down until she escaped reality. She wanted him to still be in Massachusetts, finishing up finals, looking forward to his summer. That's what she wanted, but every time she tried to force it, a voice shouted back at her in her mind, reminding her that it wasn't true, that he was gone, and that it was her fault. If she had only put her foot down when he insisted on coming. She knew there was a chance it wouldn't be safe; it was why she had wanted a minimal audience. But she had caved at his first plea. She was supposed to be a slayer—strong, resolved. Instead, she so easily allowed someone she loved to die. Is that what she did, was she slowly whittling away at her friends by allowing them to end up in harm's way? First Nadja, then Zack; was Daniel next? Who else would get hurt because of her?
And Nadja. She'd have to tell Nadja, who was at home, impatiently waiting to hear the news. How would she tell her best friend how she just stood by while Zack effectively took her place, how she saw him die and did nothing as the entity spirited him away? How would she look Nadja in the eye and tell her that her own family member would never come back? That there was nothing to mourn? How did she tell her friend how she let him die?
She let out a long whimper, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. The pain was almost too much to bear. She wanted to run from it, to scream until it escaped her body, but that only increased her guilt. She needed to embrace her pain because she had caused it. As terrible as it was for her, Zack was dead and she was the cause. She had looked him in the eye, the last thing he saw before he collapsed.
I'm not sorry.
Maybe he wasn't, but he left a lot for her to be sorry for.
A/N: Whoa, didn't see that coming now did we? But don't worry, things are wrapping up here just yet. There's still a few more chapters to go for part 4!