Chapter Fifteen
Dawn and Willow finally made it to shaky but upright
positions. They clung to each other for
support and balance as the tremors continued to shift the ground under their
feet. Ground in the nether realm that
shouldn’t be able to shift.
“Willow! What’s going on? What is this?”
The very confused witch, still rocked by her ordeal with Spike’s
aura, just shook her head, not having any answers to give the teen.
“I’m thinking not something that’s a good, though, right?”
Willow met Dawn’s eyes for a second, though thanks to the shaking,
the picture was kind of fuzzy. “Big not
good. Huge not good. We’ve got to get out of here. Now.
Sooner than now would be even better.”
“Can you get us out? Giles
said you’d have to get us out.”
Nodding, teeth rattling, Willow pulled herself together enough to
remember what she needed to do. With
the knowledge came self-assurance, and she grinned a bit.
“That I can do. Hold
on. We’re going to have to follow the
path you took here. I have to use you,
or I won’t be able to get out, so whatever you do, don’t let go of me. It’s either that, or merge with Spike
again. And, ya know? Not something I’m anxious to be trying again
any time soon. In fact, never.”
Dawn knew how traumatic it had been for Willow, merging with
Spike, and she reached out and hugged the surprised witch tightly. Just knowing that Willow had been willing to
risk trying something so dangerous to help her reinforced the belief that
Willow was one of her favorite people.
And since now wasn’t really the time to go into that in depth, a hug
would have to suffice. As soon as they
were firmly back on un-shaky ground, she’d tell Willow just what her sacrifice
meant to her.
Willow hugged Dawn back just as tightly, taking comfort in the
girl that had come into the nether realm after her. She chanted even as they maintained their tight grip on each
other. The air swirled around the pair
as they were pulled back down the path that Dawn had made.
It was working. This was
something Willow was quite familiar with.
Getting out of the nether realm had always been her favorite part of all
of those spells she and Tara had done - what seemed like a lifetime ago, now.
With a harsh jolt and a twisting sensation it was over. Willow opened her eyes, her real eyes, and sucked
in a quick breath at what she saw.
Beside her, Dawn echoed the sound.
In front of them, stretching from the floor to the ceiling was a
wall of crackling energy.
Surprised and horrified just didn’t cover it and their hands broke
apart unconsciously. As they did, the
wall collapsed into the more familiar for Dawn, just as shocking for Willow,
mini tornado that had laid waste to the room around them.
Willow grimaced, frantically meeting Dawn’s gaze. The young girl didn’t look terribly
surprised. Someone had some explaining
to do - but now was hardly the time.
It was unsettling, coming back from the nether realm. And this time was even more so for Willow,
as everything that she was, mind, aura, essence, had been savagely separated
and pulled in. It took her a long,
stunned minute to realize that it was her magicks that were powering the
wind. It took even longer to reconnect
with that part of her, to regain control.
When she finally did - not knowing what exactly had happened - the
spinning vortex around them dwindled down to nothing. With little less than a caress of warm breeze, it
disappeared.
And that’s when they noticed the ground underneath them was
shaking and the house was swaying around them.
“What now?” cried Dawn, confused and worried that the safety they
had been counting on hadn’t materialized as easily as they had materialized
from the nether realm.
“I don’t know. Move,
Dawnie, move - into a doorway - go!”
The girls scrambled to their feet and hurtled down the hall.
As they huddled in the doorway leading into the kitchen, the
ground continued to roll and pitch.
“This can’t be good,” said Willow, when it didn’t seem to be
ending. “Shaking ground generally not
one of those boding well things in Sunnydale.
And if this is also what we were feeling in the nether realm, then we’re
talking outside my experience - way out.
Out of the galaxy, out.”
Dawn clung to the wall for support. She was scared. She
wanted Giles. She wanted to know what
was going on. “I don’t get it! Where is everyone?” A low rumbling sound was vibrating in her
chest. She didn’t like it.
Things were falling off walls, down stairs, out of the cabinets in
the kitchen. There was chaos all around
them. It was a cacophonous din of
destruction. Then, out of nowhere, came
a loud thud from the dining room that drowned out the rest for a brief second,
followed by the sound of wood being splintered and broken.
The earth stopped moving at last.
Willow and Dawn exchanged wide-eyed but relieved looks as they straightened
and stood on finally firm ground.
“Wow. Okay,” said Willow,
“that’s more like it. I like the ground
much better when it’s not doing the hokey pokey underneath me. Now, let’s find Giles and the gang. We need to find out what’s with the shaking
all about.”
At Dawn’s questioning look, Willow reached up and brushed a lock
of hair off her shoulder.
“Yes, Dawnie, we’re also going to find out what needs to be done
to get Spike out of hell. I told you,
we’ll find him. I promise.”
Dawn was a little embarrassed that her first thoughts after the
hubbub died down were all about getting Spike back, but that was her goal, her
mission. She shouldn’t feel embarrassed
that she was following her heart.
“Okay. Right. Good.
And I know you can do it, Willow.
I believe in you. And thank
you. For everything.”
Willow hugged her quickly again and grabbed her hand as they moved
out of the doorway.
As they made their way down the hall, stepping gingerly around
several pieces of miscellaneous debris, they didn’t take the time to go see
what had happened in the dining room.
They hadn’t forgotten about the loud thud and the sound of wood
splintering apart, but finding the rest of their friends was currently tops on
the to do list. Assessing damage could
come later.
If they had checked it out, they would have seen him.
They would have seen the vampire that they were both so determined to find. A vampire that lay, unconscious, amid the rubble of what was left of the dining room table.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Buffy had come out of her grief induced stupor when the rocking in
the Oracles’ chamber knocked her off her knees and sent her sprawling. With an instinctive roll, she rose to her
feet, arms outstretched for balance.
Her Slayer sense was cloaked tightly around her, and she could now feel
every vibration coming from the stone steps she perched so precariously on.
“What the hell is going on?”
She looked around and found the two Oracles, clinging together in
the archway, obviously terrified beyond rational thought.
Making her way over to them, she grabbed the brother’s arm and
shook it.
“What is this? What’s
happening?”
He looked at her but didn’t speak. Buffy realized, belatedly, that he was trying to reach her
mentally, probably out of instinct.
Concentrating, she tried to open her mind to his thoughts. She got more than just his thoughts, though;
she felt his confusion and fear as he just stared at her. Then she finally heard the words.
“The Powers...they are calling us...something has happened but we
cannot go to them. The portal is closed
to us. We do not know why. They are calling us and we cannot go.”
Buffy spun around. There
was nothing in the barren room that could help her. Her mind whirled. Loss,
anger, love, all of the emotions she was feeling were intensifying her Slayer
side, the tingling in her body rose to an almost painful level.
And then it stopped. The
room stopped shaking, the pillars settled back in their rightful positions, and
the pool of water in front of her...kept frothing and bubbling.
In fact, it did more than froth and bubble, the water churned and
agitated. Like a mini ocean suffering
the wrath of a hurricane.
“Would someone please explain to me what, exactly, is happening
here?”
Buffy may as well not have asked, for all the response she
got. The Oracles weren’t likely to
provide much in the way of explanations, either; they were still huddled
pathetically in the closed portal to their precious Powers. Buffy stepped forward cautiously and peered
down into the Waters of Time and Space.
Images flashed in the waves, disjointed and surreal images. Nothing recognizable, nothing
decipherable. It was as if a movie was
playing on a moving, broken screen. But
it was more than just one movie, more than dozens of movies, playing all at
once and reflecting off hundreds of individual watery peaks.
She couldn’t look away. It
made no sense to her, to her mind, none of the images were identifiable, but it
was mesmerizing.
Slowly, as Buffy watched, the water calmed. The images kept flashing, but it was less a
multitude of movies, broken and cut up by the waves, and more pages of a book,
flipping past at an incredible rate.
Until it opened to one lone page and held its position.
As clear as glass, as flat and unmoving as a stagnant pond, the
image was distinct and recognizable.
Buffy felt tears spring to her eyes as she realized what she was
seeing. Her heart soared. Everything that was in her cried out in deep
relief. The velvet cloak of her power
caressed her mind, body, and soul, hugging her with comforting warmth.
“Spike!”
She saw him. He
was...well, hurt...and unconscious...but he was alive! And he was in her dining room. Or...what was left of her dining room?
Spinning around to the Oracles, she lifted her head and stared
down her nose at the pair. “See. I told you.
Not as easy to kill as you might think.
And if I’m not mistaken, those Powers of yours need to upgrade
their...what did you call it? Their
technology.” Her eyes took on a
dangerous glint and her voice sharpened to deadly intensity. She was glorious in her power. “Now.
I don’t want to hear another word from the two of you. In my head or anywhere else. Send me back. You brought me here to send me back, DO IT!”
The brother and sister were shell-shocked, this was beyond highly
irregular. As the first to regain some
semblance of control but not believing what the Slayer had told him, the
brother shuffled forward as if expecting the ground to start moving again and peered
into the now eerily calm Waters.
“It is true, sister. The
vampire has been returned to her realm.
I do not know how, or from where, but he is there. What do we do?”
Near hysteria, the sister practically screeched in his mind. “DO?!
Send her back! Why are you even
questioning? Send her back. I am finished with her and her odd
friends. I want nothing more to do with
any of them! This has been quite a
distressing situation. I want her
gone. Please, brother. For me.
Send her back.”
“But, sister, I cannot.
She was supposed to return to her body shortly after the fall. After the vampire was summoned. With his return, that is no longer
possible. The Pow-”
“GRANT THE CHOSEN ONES’ WISHES.
SEND HER BACK IN THEIR PRESENT TIME.
WE WILL RESTORE HER. COME TO
US. WE ARE WAITING.”
Both Oracles’ heads snapped up in surprise. There was no ignoring the Powers or their
demands. Something very unusual must be
happening to be contacted in such a manner.
Usually they just send a wordless, beckoning call. This was highly irregular. And it scared the brother. Reality as he knew it was changing, he could
feel it, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. He didn’t even understand it.
Without another word, he turned to the scornful creature in front
of him and nodded once. He gathered his
powers and sent her back to her world.
Set her back on her path...whatever that may be now.
Buffy disappeared from the room.
The brother doubted even the Powers themselves had any idea of
just what he was releasing on the world.
For the first time in his existence, he questioned the wisdom of their
decision.
And he didn’t know why he was so sure that the Slayer, while still being a warrior, would no longer be theirs to guide.
~*~*~*~*~*~
It was Tara that noticed it first. She sat up, rubbing at a sore spot on her head, not really
remembering what she’d hit it on, and saw that the energy that had been keeping
them out of the house was no longer glowing tauntingly in the doorway.
She didn’t have time to mention it before Giles stood up, brushing
at his jacket, and caught the non-glowing front entrance out of the corner of
his eye. Fearing the worst, fearing the
quake that rattled them had been the last straw and his surrogate daughter was
hurt, maybe dead, his heart lodged in his throat and clung there, preventing
words from having any possibility of escape.
The normally dignified man launched himself up the stairs leading
to the porch and burst into the hallway.
He almost buckled under the weight of grief when he saw the living room
empty, but a sound from the hallway on his right spun him around.
Out of the shadowy darkness, two figures, two young women, shaken
but remarkably unhurt, emerged. And
sometime after seeing that Willow and Dawn were both alive and back in this
realm, Giles’ heart slipped back down where it belonged, and for good measure,
started beating again.
Dawn choked back a sob when she saw Giles’ face, then threw
herself at him. His arms wrapped
tightly around her and they rocked back and forth for a little while, drawing
comfort from one another.
It was a tremendous feeling for Giles, having Dawn safe in his
arms, and he leaned his head down and rested it on the top of hers. The effusive display of loving emotions may
have been out of character for the mature young woman she’d become, but in no
way out of character for a fourteen year old girl. And he would take it. She
was alive, unhurt, and he would take every opportunity offered to let her know
how much that meant to him.
The grounding she would get for attempting such a foolhardy course
of action could come much later.
He looked at Willow, who was standing a step away, looking just as
shaken as Dawn had. There was warmth in
his expression when he raised one of his arms away from Dawn and held it out to
her. Beaming a watery smile at him,
Willow stepped into his soothing embrace.
She felt his fatherly affection for all of them in that hug, and was
calmed and comforted by it.
“Giles,” came Xander’s voice from the porch, “are they okay? Is it over?”
Giles, Willow, and Dawn looked down the hallway and saw Xander
just entering the open door, Tara and Anya behind him. Xander saw the girls and smiled widely.
“Yup. It’s over. And it’s the best kind of over. Happy ending over. Gotta love those.”
Tara rushed to the three who were still clinging together in a
group hug, and Willow broke away from Giles and Dawn to wrap her arms around
the woman she loved. They said with
their embrace what they couldn’t say with their words. Love, devotion, and dedication were all
offered, accepted, returned, and renewed.
Anya grabbed Xander’s arm and watched the emotional group in front
of her. “Oh, good, they’re back. I have to say, Willow, that’s a very
impressive arsenal of power you have access to. I’m very pleased that you’re on our side. It would be unpleasant to cross you.”
Willow looked at the ex-demon over Tara’s shoulder, knowing that
was as close as Anya would ever come to a warm welcome. “Um.
Thanks, Anya. I...appreciate
the...sentiment.”
Anya grinned and nodded enthusiastically. “So,” she said, turning to Xander, “does
this mean we can go home now or are you going to insist we have to help with
the cleanup?”
“An,” Xander cast a sheepish glance at the unsurprised, but
faintly irritated people that were his friends, “I don’t think clean up is
really what needs to happen now. Am I
right Giles?”
Giles didn’t let go of Dawn, couldn’t let go of her yet, so he
shifted her to his side where she nestled comfortably against him. He faced the group, confidence and calm
demeanor firmly back in place.
“Yes, well...there is the matter of discussing what happened in
the nether realm. And I’m not happy
about the fact that we just felt a rather strong earthquake. I believe our experiences indicate those as
something of a harbinger of doom. But,
that can probably all wait until tomorrow as I’m sure Willow and Dawn are tired
from their ordeal. Quite frankly, I
don’t believe a little assessing of the damage and some cleaning up would be
out of line, really. Then we can get
some sleep and start fresh in the morning.”
Willow let go of Tara and said, “Clean-up will have to wait. Giles, there’s something you should
know. The earthquake wasn’t just in
Sunnydale. Dawn and I felt it in the
nether realm, and as far as I know - that’s just not a possibility. Do you have any ideas?”
“Oh dear.”
Xander heard the breathless exclamation, saw the frown Giles gave
and sighed audibly. “Lemme guess. Happy ending a bit premature?”
Giles just looked at him wryly and nodded. “I would say so, yes. Perhaps we should all adjourn to the family
room. No rest for the wicked, I’m
afraid. This is proving to be one very
long night.”
Six weary and mentally drained individuals moved en masse into the less destroyed family room, resignation and responsibility weighing each of them down.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Spike was slowly regaining consciousness as his body shifted
slightly. Whatever he was lying on was
extremely uncomfortable - and in no way meant for naptime. Plus there was a soft drone in his head,
muted conversation that wouldn’t let him slip back into the depths of healing
sleep.
One of the voices, he wasn’t really aware which one, nagged at his
mind, pulling at it ceaselessly, prodding it into embracing awakeness when all
he really wanted to do was lie in the dark and heal.
But it wouldn’t let him.
As his mind got dragged, resisting all the way, back into some
semblance of awareness, the cottony cobwebs over his thoughts cleared a bit and
he was able to pinpoint who the voice belonged to. When he did, he knew why it had so mercilessly forced him
awake. That knowledge thrust him into a
fully alert state. Dawn.
He opened his eyes quickly and stared at the ceiling above
him. Turning his head caused shooting
pain to dance down his spine, into his arms and legs, and he gasped at the
sudden sharpness of it. He peered
around the room with only a vague recognition of his surroundings. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite
put his finger on where he was. He knew
he was in Buffy’s house, but he just didn’t recognize which part.
Rolling was agony, but Spike turned his body gently and used his
arms to push himself to his hands and knees.
What he saw underneath where he’d been laying made the last connection
in his mind. The dining room
table...or...what was left of it. He
was in the dining room.
And they said I was funny.
Right. They’re a laugh a minute,
they are. ‘Cuz sendin’ Spike through a
portal separatin’ realities, only to come crashin’ down on a table made out of
the one thing guaranteed to shorten the unlife span of any vampire has got to
be a bleedin’ joke.
But the pain wasn’t funny.
And they hadn’t lied about it.
His body was screaming vile obscenities at him for even contemplating
moving.
It didn’t matter. He was
back. Dawn was here. He had to get to Dawn.
Buffy.
Oh God. Both of them.
All thoughts of the bruises, broken bones, lacerations, and
everything else that was causing his body extreme torment fled out of his
mind. He had to get to Dawn. He had to tell her about Buffy.
Staggering to his feet, he swayed slightly as his head spun. Shuffling out of the dining room, he
followed the sound of one voice. Like a
beacon through an endless night, it called him.
He paused for a brief second when he saw the living room, saw the
absolute destruction, and he wondered fleetingly what could have done such a
thing.
He’d find out later.
Everything but one could wait for later. The voice grew louder as he stumbled through the debris and
headed toward the hallway. Dawn’s
voice, serious and intent, pulled him forward.
Lured him ever closer to his destination. Just her voice sounded better to him than anything he’d ever
heard before.
And then, after what seemed like a thousand years of torturous
hell, a journey of unimaginable horrors, victories, revelations, and
redemptions - if you could believe the All - he stood, trembling, in the
doorway and finally got to see his Nibblet.
His Little Bit. His Dawn.
No one noticed his presence, they were all engrossed in Dawn’s
retelling of the battle between Spike and Willow’s aura. To look at her, you’d never know she’d just
been through a life-threatening ordeal.
She was so excited in her retelling.
There was just no repressing that bubbling personality.
“Nibblet.”
The familiar but long-since-heard voice and endearment effectively
cut Dawn’s story off mid-sentence and her head whipped around to stare in
stunned amazement at the broken and bleeding body of a long lost friend.
She didn’t even notice that five other pairs of eyes were just as
wide and just as stunned as hers were.
The minute Dawn saw Spike it was as if no one else in the room even
existed.
He was holding on to the door jam for support, afraid he’d topple
over if he let go, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the girl he’d grown
to love so much. His bruised face
shifted painfully into a tender smile as he watched those huge, beautiful eyes
fill with tears from across the room.
She was rooted to her spot, shock holding her in place, holding
everyone as still as ice sculptures.
Spike tried to do something about the growing tension and amazement that
was rising to palpable levels in the room.
“Hi, honey. I’m home.”
It worked.
Dawn finally got her throat to work again and she said his name in
a choked sob that sounded like wonderfully joyous bells in his ears. “Spike!
Oh my God, Spike!”
As long as Dawn lived, she would never remember actually jumping
up from her chair and running over to his damaged body. One minute she was sitting in stunned
silence, the next she was feeling him wince in pain as she wrapped surprisingly
strong arms around his waist.
When she realized she was hurting him she tried to pull back,
tears of joy streaming down her face.
He wouldn’t let her. He didn’t
care about the pain; he just wanted to feel her in his arms again like he had
the morning after Buffy died. For her,
it was a month, for him, just several days, for both, it was a lifetime.
He drank in her scent, never as happy as he was at that minute to
be a vampire - not because of the badness inherent in it - but because of the
gifts he could enjoy. The life he could
feel with every one of his hypersensitive senses. Her heartbeat, felt pounding through their separate layers of
clothing, heard throbbing, strong and even - if a little fast - in his
ears. The scent that was uniquely Dawn,
but just a touch of Buffy, too. The
feel of her warm skin under his fingers as he traced one shaking hand down her
wet cheek. The taste of her on his lips
after he’d pressed a hard, quick kiss to her forehead.
But the best of all was seeing her - looking into those blue pools
of mystery and knowing, without ever needing to ask, that she loved him, too.
There was a total acceptance and joy at his return. Not once did she ever even question who he
was - what he was. She knew he was a
vampire, knew what he had done in the past and what he was capable of doing
even now, but she also knew that he wouldn’t.
Never again. And it had nothing
to do with a government chip. She saw
in him what he hoped that one day Buffy would see. She saw the man before the fang.
And she always had.
Suddenly she turned away from him. Not letting go - just shifting her body around to stare at the
still silent and floored group in the room.
The Slayer’s little sister gathered all of the strength that had been
growing in her for the last month and commanded action from the people that she
loved.
“Anya, go into the freezer and get two packets of blood - they’re
under the frozen peas. Heat them in the
microwave and bring them here. Tara,
check the bathroom closet upstairs in Giles’ room, there are more first aide
supplies in there, and it has a door, so the earthquake probably didn’t shake
things up too bad. They were on the
third shelf, but I can’t guarantee that’s where they still are. Xander, go down to the basement. There’s clean laundry in the drier and I
know I washed a set of Giles’ sweatpants.
Grab a pair, and a tee shirt too, black, just in case he bleeds on
it. Giles, Willow, help me get him to
the couch. He needs to lie down.”
It was Spike’s turn to be stunned and he gaped at the girl still
holding him tightly. This was a new and
improved Dawn, strong and self-assured.
Spike liked it. He grinned at
her remarkable show of spine.
What really surprised him was that the gang actually leapt into
action, jumping up to follow her calmly spoken commands as if they were a
common occurrence. No doubt about it, a
lot had changed in the twenty-six days he’d been gone. He finally understood what the All had meant
when they told him they’d been developing Dawn and Willow and the rest of the
Scooby’s.
But apparently, not all the developing was a good thing. When Xander passed out of the room and
stared at him with a coldly dead expression, Spike frowned. It didn’t make sense. He and Harris were just starting to, well,
not get along exactly...but tolerate each other a little better during the
events leading up to the fight with Glory.
The look that he just got told him something had changed. There was no tolerance in his expression any
longer.
Whelp doesn’t look like he’d spit on you if you were on fire,
mate, let alone light your cigarette if your hands were sliced and diced.
Spike didn’t have the time to question it. Like everything else, it could wait until
later. With Giles and Willow gently
moving him towards the couch, Dawn rushing around setting up pillows and
grabbing a throw off the back of a chair, he didn’t even have a chance to tell
them about Buffy. He was in too much
pain right then to say much of anything, actually.
“You’re back,” Dawn rambled as she bustled around the room. “You’re really back. We’ve been looking for you, Spike, I swear
it. Willow found out where you were.”
Once he had been gently lowered to the couch and Dawn had covered
him up, Spike reached out and grabbed Willow’s wrist before she could turn
away. He had something to say to her,
and it couldn’t wait - not even for Buffy.
“I know what you did, Will.
I was told what you did for me, for Dawn. To try to find me. No
one’s ever done anythin’ like that for me before. I won’t forget it. Thank
you.”
Willow knelt down next to the vampire and smiled gently at him
despite the confusion at his words. She
had no idea how he knew, or who told him, but she could wait. “We can talk about that later, right now we
need you to tell us what happened. How
did you get out of hell?”
“Hell?” Surprised, Spike
looked at each of the three curious people in turn. “Where’d you get the idea I was in hell?”
“Willow saw it, Spike, when she was merged with your aura. She saw the realm you went into - why’d you
go? Why’d you do it?”
“Nibblet, I didn’t. I
don’t think I underst-”
Finally he realized what it was Willow had seen and it all made
sense. He looked at the Watcher and
witch, but pulled Dawn down onto the couch next to him, holding her
gently. “Rupert, Will, I think you’d
better both sit down. I’ve got
somethin’ to tell you and it’s going to be a bit of a shock.”
Spike spoke in a serious tone.
It was a tone that no one was used to hearing from him, not even
Dawn. There was no sarcasm, no amused
derision, no teasing drawl. He spoke as
if the weight of the world was planted firmly on his chest, and after what each
one of them had been through that night; they felt chilled by the words and the
expressive feelings behind them.
“I didn’t go to hell, pet,” Spike said to Dawn, reaching out to
grab a lock of her long hair between his fingers, maybe for comfort. He knew what he would tell them would be
more than shocking. It would take a
while to get used to - even though it was the best news any of them could
possibly imagine. Later, only later
would he tell the gang the rest of it.
Of his meeting with All and the message they sent with him. “Will, if you saw what I saw as I went into
that realm, then you were seeing what heaven looks like for a vampire. I was sent to heaven.”
Giles yanked the glasses off his face and leaned forward. “What?
What did you...heaven? You were
sent to heaven? Spike, what are you
talking about?”
Spike met and held the Watcher’s stunned gaze and nodded
slowly. “When I was taken that mornin’,
after...well, you know. That creature
that nabbed me took me to a pair of Oracles.
Have you heard of ‘em?”
Giles nodded his head, a strange feeling pooling in the pit of his
stomach. “According to several
writings, they are a link to the Powers.
The Powers that Be.”
“Right. They sent me to
heaven.”
Willow didn’t understand.
She couldn’t reconcile what she saw to what she’d heard of the
place. “If that was heaven, I’m
suddenly very glad to be Jewish.”
Spike smiled. “I doubt it
would look that way for you, Will. The
look you got was through vampire colored glasses.”
Giles, mind reeling, spoke slowly, trying to get the conversation
back on track. “Spike, why did they
send you to heaven?”
“You know why, Rupert. I
can tell you know why.” Spike looked at
the three people around him and tried to tell them as gently as he was capable
of doing. “They sent me to get
Buffy. To get her to come back. And I did.”
“Bullshit!”
The harsh expletive from the doorway made all four of the room’s
occupants jump. Four heads turned to
see the young man, shaking with anger, clutching a pair of sweatpants and a tee
shirt.
Giles, Willow, and Dawn were too thunderstruck by what Spike just
said to do anything to stop Xander’s furious tirade.
“That’s bullshit, Spike.
What the hell are you trying to pull?
You come back after a month and you expect us to believe that crap? Why would they do that? Why would they care that she’s gone? And even if they did, you expect us to
believe some higher power chose you? A
vampire? And sent you to heaven for
Buffy. I don’t fucking think so. There’s also a big ass flaw in your story,
Dead Man Walking, where is she? ‘Cuz
here you are, all warm and comfortable, but I’m not seeing any Buffy-sized people
anywhere.”
Anya and Tara heard the commotion and walked into the testosterone
minefield. Each was carrying the items
they were sent to retrieve.
“Wh-what’s going on?” asked Tara, confused at the hostility she
was feeling.
Xander spun on her. “You
wanna know what’s going on? The
bloodsucker just told us that he’s been spending the past month in heaven, sent
there by some higher power to get Buffy back.
Can you believe that? Guess he
felt that after a month of being gone, he’d hurt us as much as possible to make
up for lost time.”
Spike rose to his feet slowly and purposefully, anger stirring
dangerously. His aching body was buoyed
by the rolling fury inside him. He
wasn’t about to tell the whelp that he wasn’t supposed to be there at all. Or how the Oracles had told him going in
that only the Slayer would be returning from that bloody realm. How he was there now and she wasn’t thanks
to a group of entities older and more powerful than the Powers themselves,
entities that had stepped in and saved him because Buffy would need his help. He would tell them about All and the coming
badness with the Powers as soon as Buffy was home, but he wasn’t planning on
telling anyone the other. Ever.
“I’m tellin’ you the bloody truth, Harris. Look at me.
Does it look like I’m in any condition to be playin’ games, here? Do you think for one minute I’d come here,
lie about something like this, hurt Dawn like that? I love her.”
“You don’t know the first thing about love.”
“Yes,” Willow stood and faced her lifelong friend, compassion and
understanding in her gaze, “he does. He
loves Dawn, Xander. He loved Buffy,
too. I felt it when I was in his aura
trail. He wouldn’t do what you’re
suggesting. He couldn’t hurt Dawn or
Buffy’s memory that way. If he is
telling us that he went to heaven to get Buffy back, then I believe him. And I, for one, want to believe that she can
come back.”
Dawn stood up, wrapped her arm around Spike’s waist and stared at
Xander with a wisdom that belied her years.
She just found out that a sister she’d never thought to see again may be
returned to her, to all of them, and this was not the time for the group to be
fragmented. Part of her was an aching,
raw wound; part of her was giddy at the possibility.
“I know how much losing Buffy hurt you, Xander. It changed you and I’ve seen it but I
haven’t said anything. I should have
and I’m sorry. I know that you’re still
not over it. None of us are. But it’s not right to blame Spike, or hate
him for it. You lost someone you loved
and you’ve been lashing out at the only person you’re conscience will allow you
to. That’s what all this is about,
right? Your pain and your loss - and
the fear not that he’s lying, but that he’s telling the truth. It’s not Spike’s fault Buffy died. It’s not Buffy’s fault either. She did what she had to do to save all of
us. And he just told us that she’s
coming back. You have to let go of the
anger. You have to. And you need to let go of the fear.”
Something cold and hard in Xander’s heart, something that had been
there for twenty-six long days, started to thaw when faced with the immutable
truth of a young girl who had no choice in life but to deal with issues far
worse than his. Issues that took a back
seat while she tried to ease his pain, despite the overwhelming burden of her own.
He couldn’t look away from her.
“Where is she, Spike?” he asked, all trace of venom gone from his voice and not once breaking eye contact with Dawn. “Where’s Buffy? Lets bring her home.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Across town, under the sheltering branches of a Weeping Willow, a
lone figure clothed in a gauzy, cream-colored gown stared down at the tombstone
in front of her. In her right hand was
a sharp wooden stake, a very familiar sharp wooden stake. Mr. Pointy, to be exact. When she raised her hand to examine it, she
smiled.
One of her extended family must have taken it upon themselves to
make sure that she would never be unarmed in a cemetery. That was thoughtful.
It was a warm night, fragrant and breezy, and the scent of jasmine
drifted in the air currents. Buffy
breathed in deeply, enjoying the peace and quiet of the place.
Tears sprang to her eyes when she knelt down to get a closer look
at the writing on the headstone in front of her.
BUFFY ANNE
SUMMERS
1981-2001
BELOVED SISTER
DEVOTED FRIEND
SHE SAVED THE
WORLD
A LOT
Buffy was moved and rocked by the reality of it all, truly
understanding for the first time that she had really died. As in dead died. She’d also apparently been gone for a while; her grave wasn’t
new. And now, thanks to the pressing
need for her to rejoin the fight and one man’s dedication to doing the right
thing, she’d returned. Suddenly it
wasn’t such a small thing, or something to be shrugged away as just another day
in the wicked fun life of the Slayer.
It was huge.
And the headstone perched at the top of her grave made it more
than huge, it made it real.
The Slayer, the evolved Chosen One and Keeper of the Balance stood
for a long time, just staring down at the grave of the girl she used to
be.
Things were going to be different because she was different. She imagined that the people that she loved
would be different as well. They had
lost a friend and a sister, and had grieved for their loss.
Grief changes a person.
Buffy knew that very well.
Yes. Things were going to
be very different. But they were also
going to be something else. No matter
what happens in the future, no matter what other evil would pop up to threaten
humanity, there was one thing Buffy was very sure of. Things were going to be better.
Because she was better.
She was whole now, in a way that she’d never been before. And she was really looking forward to
exploring herself, finding out what the balance had brought along with it.
And she’d have her sister without the fear of Glory over their
heads, and the gang, and...oh, yeah...one other thing. A vampire that loved her. That she loved back.
Buffy smiled to herself, knowing that these changes were going to
create some very interesting waves. She
was willing to ride out the waves in the pursuit of happiness. For in the end, life is far too short not to
accept happiness when you find it, accept love in whatever form it shows
itself, be it werewolf, ex-demon, witch...or a soulless vampire with a
conscience who was more of a man than most men.
And he was coming. They
all were. Spike would know where she
was; he would figure it out and bring them here. If he could find her in heaven, a cemetery was no stretch for a
vampire. Soon they would all be
together again. All Buffy had to do was
wait.
Sitting down on top of her now empty grave, crossing her legs as demurely as possible in her dress, that’s exactly what she did. Wait. And she spent a little more time saying good-bye to a girl that had sacrificed herself for the people that she loved and the world she had lived in.