Title: Two steps from Heaven One step from Hell
Author: Hallie
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: The Gift, Passion. The story assumes a general knowledge of the shows mythology and character relationships in particular Buffy and Giles.
Summary: There are many histories in the world, those that we live and those that we forget, dipped in blood and etched in stone. The world is a stage where innocent is stolen and monsters stalk, a game to win, a game to lose. What truths do we fail to see as we barter life, what truths do we fear...you think you know, what you are, what's to come. You haven't even begun...
Disclaimer: I don't them I just walk them occasionally.
Authors Notes: I know it's been done before, a post 'The Gift' fic! This originally started out as something short and fun to vent my own frustrations, it's sort of run away from me in the past year into this monstrosity. I have taken a few liberty's with the characters, I'm afraid as much as I love her Fred isn't in this story- there were just too many characters, so for the purposes of the story she never came back from Pylea. Sorry Fred! Okay I think that covers it, if you like it please send feedback it's what I live for.
Prologue
"It started with death and it will end with death, but isn't it always that way? We fall from one to the next the world building itself in between" Her smile was sad and contemplative, older than the years that she held, he marveled that it was possible to grow old in such a short time, but then hadn't he? "Tell me" he said. There was a fountain in the garden, she hadn't noticed it before, had never taken the time to see, an angel of all things its water dried up long ago, "It's not to be written" she said, "not to be held in books or by councils. The world should never have to know." He nodded,
"I understand" she felt his touch on her hand warm where hers had suddenly gone cold. "As I said, it began with death..."
Part 1
The silence in that moment was shattering, all consuming, swallowing our world into eternity before violently spitting it back out unrecognizable, distorted. She was dead, I knew it, I could feel it. I didn't need to search for a pulse I knew there would be none, I think we all did, our world had beat with her strength for so long that we felt its sudden silence like a thunderbolt. It was over and I wanted so much to cry but I don't think I had tears enough to mourn such a loss. Only hours before we had walked the corridors of her mind together and now that mind was gone. The possibility was incomprehensible to us all, her death had always been a threat of the life that she led but still to us she was immortal, she would never lose and she would never die, protecting us with golden hair as ours turned grey. Her presence would always be a constant, a testament to our survival, to the world's survival. How could it continue to turn without her there to protect it?
All this passed in less than a moment, less than a moment and the earth continued to spin. I felt Tara beside me moving closer unconsciously in concern and shock. Did she feel it to the sudden silence; it was all I could feel, all in nothing and in nothing I saw it so clearly, saw the same shock in all of us as we simple stood, afraid to move towards her because to move would break the spell, would make it real and it couldn't be. The irony didn't escape me that of all of us it was Spike, the one who knew her the least, the one whose heart didn't beat that expressed so vocally that pain that we could not yet utter. His sobs were heart breaking his face covered in blood, as he crawled towards her uttering our pain for us and cradled her head in his lap his hands shaking from the strength of his grief as he brushed the hair from her face revealing her radiance even in death. I didn't even notice the tears as they overtook me my sobs echoing Spike's as the silence within me broke, shattering through my world as I realized the reality of its end, letting out with it the breath held in anticipation that they would take it back, make it not so. Goddess please make it not so...
~~~~~~~~~~
That silence was the last silence for so long, everything collapsing into the noise of confusion and grief. Willow, Spike and Dawn sobbing openly as the paramedics came and began the futile checks for life on the body that as yet belied the appearance of death, lying instead in an easy slumber, a rest well deserved for battles won. Xander huddled around Anya with bent head as they checked her over unable to tear his eyes away from Buffy's body for too long, as if he thought that she might just get up and crack one of her post slayage jokes before dragging them all off for ice cream. Only Giles remained quiet and still, unable to move from his position as he watched them prepare to take her to the morgue a part of him wanting to scream and shout, push them away from her and rock her in his arms as if the action might bring her back, if he held her tight enough then she might return to him. But he didn't, remaining still, Dawn held at his side where she had come to him though his eyes never left the body of his slayer, but it wasn't her, not anymore the light had gone and what was left was so empty and still that he could almost believe that it wasn't her that had fallen and instead the robot that lay broken before them. But he knew in his heart that she was gone, he could feel it aching, feel the rip where she had left him and he couldn't cry because there simply weren't enough tears to express such a pain, such an emptiness, there was nothing.
~~~~~~~~~
The line moved slowly, a trail of orange jumpsuits that seemed to stretch forever, anonymity a precedent in a world of grey steel and brick. Daryl watched them absently as they waited quietly for their food, wary of any trouble but expecting none. His shift was over soon and he was eager to get home to his beer and the game, his eyes more often drawn to the clock encased in wire mesh than the prisoners. He almost wished for trouble to speed up the hands of the clock that had seemed to slow to a standstill as clocking off time drew nearer. He shifted in his position standing a little taller as the dark haired girl came into view. He didn't remember her name, they weren't exactly encouraged to look at the prisoners as individuals and most of the time they didn't want to, although there were a few who stood out, trouble makers mostly. He had expected her to be one, the stories that had come in with her had been less than pretty, there was something that burnt beneath her eyes at times, ready to break out. The other girls had responded none to well to the threat that she posed with a rep like that, making sure that she knew her place in the scheme of things. They were encouraged to turn a blind eye, prison was like a world unto itself, they contained it, kept the filth off the streets, but you couldn't make the habits of a lifetime just disappear. She was prettier than most of them, even with her dark curls chopped into the harsher short cut. She still walked tall, they hadn't managed to beat that out of her yet, but her eyes were usually downcast, hidden by the hair that fell across her face. Still there was no crime in looking was there, too few good-looking girls in the world as it was, what were they there for if not to be looked at?
Faith shifted, her movements silent in the long queue, the grace of a slayer still evident in her step. It was only a way to pass the time really, break up the day, it wasn't as if the food that they got at the end of it was really worth the wait, but you took what you were given and you made no fuss. It was best to remain invisible in here, she had learnt that quickly. She could feel the guard watching her, almost as if it were his hands and not just his eyes. There was a time when she would have played to it, danced and swayed her hips to broker the attention, there was a power in it that she had been heady on, draw them in and then knock them down. She could snap a man like a twig if she wanted to, bare handed before she moved onto the next, but the thought itself made her sick to her stomach now. Better to keep your head down, try to blend into the others, just one of the crowd.
She felt a strange heat in her fingers as she moved down the line, a tingling that grew the more she tried to ignore it, almost like slayer sense but she hadn't felt that in so long she was beginning to think she had lost the skill. Tentatively she peaked from around the curtain of her hair, the mess hall was as it should be, rows of tables and benches where the other prisoners were already eating, guards scattered about the room, watching them. Her tray fell from her hands with a clutter as the tingling suddenly shot straight for her chest, squeezing enough to bring tears to her eyes. The guards were already rushing towards her, nightsticks drawn for trouble as the other prisoners stepped back. The convulsions only seemed to grow worse until she couldn't hold in the cry that was alien in the silent room, the clatter of cutlery gone. Was this what it felt like to die? She crumpled to the floor guards leaning over her, disgruntled at the delay to the end of their shift. She could see a bright light flashing behind them, so bright, but she couldn't turn away. She was hanging in that light as it ripped through her, tearing at her body as if it were paper. But it didn't, she was falling but it wasn't her, it wasn't her. She knew and her eyes began to tear from more than the pain that surged through her, God no, she thought as the light disappeared replaced by a familiar darkness.
Part 2
The morning of the funeral was grey and cold, the day seeming to become night as the body of the slayer was lowered into the ground. He had half expected a crack of thunder and lightening as the dirt was thrown over the wooden case of the coffin, but there was none. Instead the greyness appeared to swallow everything even himself. He tried to ignore it, to pretend that all was well, to play the role that they expected of him, that they needed of him. He held Dawn as she wept silently at first, her small body convulsing with loss before Willow pulled her away from the graveside to a waiting car and the promise of warmth. But he couldn't make himself leave, turn his eyes from the coffin that would soon be buried from sight. Such an anti climax to having your worst nightmare realized. Anti climatic in that day still followed night; somewhere not far away people were laughing and happy, oblivious to the tragedy. He could never have imagined, even after losing Jenny, feeling such a loss as he felt now. But he held it in smiling when he should smile; thanking the mourners for coming and watching over those she had left behind. So many people that were here today because she had touched their lives in some way so many that mourned her death. But despite those that came to pay their respects a part of him doubted that this world was really worthy of her life. Her words echoed in his ears taunting him 'I don't know how to live in this world if these are the choices'. What kind of world was it that they were fighting so hard to save, a world that demanded the blood of children, a world that kept taking and taking until there was nothing left. What kind of world offered death as a gift? One built on councils that sent innocence up against all the monsters of nightmares until there was no innocence left. The council had already contacted him of course, his answering machine filled with their messages where he had grown tired of answering their incessant questions, their inhuman desire for the details of her end. But he wasn't ready yet, he knew that she would want him to for the slayers to come but to put pen to paper in their last journal entry froze him with dread. He didn't want to leave her, to sever the only official link in its dark tombs where she would become no more than a number in the history books, a figure to be studied and researched but never seen, never known. He could never capture her in his words she eluded him as much in prose as she did in life to his equal delight and frustration. He had not foreseen that she would do this, that she would leave them, him. A part of him questioned if he had known her at all, while the other part chastised him for his doubt in the woman he had grown to love so dearly but never found the courage to reach out to with more than friendship. And now he never would.
~~~~~~~~~
The hotel was strangely quiet without Angel there, as if the building itself was mourning the loss that he felt in his absence. It had hit them all hard, death was a close companion in their line of work, always a threat loitering but seldom executed, but to lose her was almost inconceivable. She was the warrior; the chosen one no matter what supposed expiration date came with that title. If she could die when she had cheated death so many times then any of them could, the final battle had always lain with her and now she was gone. The atmosphere that the news left was one of underlying fear, a fear and silence that stretched all the way into the demon world. A resonating silence at the death of a warrior who had in doing so saved them all. She'd jumped. Not a warrior's death, not the glory befitting the violent struggle of her life but the ultimate price, to go quietly, to take her own life in the bargain for another.
Willow had fought valiantly to hold it together as she had recounted the events of the past few days to them, tried to be strong, but there was no such strength in the face of a loss like this, only differing modes of despair. He worried that she had come alone, that Giles had not brought the news of the slayers death to them himself. He had spoken only a few words on the phone with the other man since it had happened, all to brief and business like. There was something missing in his voice that sent a chill down his spine that Willow's words of his dedication to Dawn and their welfare had done little to dispel. He could see the underlying fear in the witch's eyes and it was a fear that was mirrored in his own. She knew, they both knew. It wasn't Angel that he worried for, the vampire had mourned her loss already on his arrival in the city, death was just the final goodbye in a relationship doomed from the start. No, it was Giles, her silent protector, her guide, the one who had held her through the death of herself and loved ones that he feared for. As a Watcher he knew the signs, was schooled in the reading of human subtlety that others missed or chose not to see. The love Giles had been accused of having for his slayer was more than paternal. The council knew it and he knew it. They were as good as they were because they were one, closer than lovers, he lived for her and though she may not have known it she lived for him.
Wesley had not expected this, he had awaited the news of their relationship, of the final realization of what they were, anticipated it for the sake of a man that he had grown to call friend, but not this. It was that death that he fought against hearing in the other man's voice, a subtle death rattle in the monotony of his speech. Willow felt it too, how could she not, she was so sensitive now to the powers all around them, perhaps too sensitive for she saw the pain in Giles, the hole that could only get bigger with time. They could never fill it no matter how much he cared for them and the council could never hope to breach it. He sighed flipping through the pages of a book that he wasn't reading. Perhaps the time was coming for all of them now, they had lived blessed for too long and the darkness that hovered in the air was settling, finding its hold in their hearts.
"Stop it Wesley" Cordelia chided calmly from her perch on the opposite desk, her head buried in her own volumous text, her eyes peaking at him from above it briefly. "I beg your pardon" Wesley stuttered.
"Don't think I don't know what you're doing," she said waving her hands at her forehead, "with the wrinkly, stop it."
"Cordy I hardly..."
"One broody boy's enough for this firm." She stated matter of factly, letting the large book fall to the desk with a faint puff of dust. Wesley removed his glasses putting his own book down as he looked around the deserted office. "At the moment we don't even have that" he replied.
"He'll be back and then things can start getting back to normal around here, or as close to it as they ever get."
"I hope you're right" he said. Cordelia frowned at him.
"The world doesn't stop just because she's dead, they'll be another slayer"
"I don't know that it's that simple, she was much more than just a slayer." He replied.
"She was Buffy." Cordy intoned.
"I know that you didn't like her," Wesley said.
"It's not that I didn't like her, I didn't understand her."
"And now" he asked. Cordelia bit her lip for a moment speaking more softly her voice dipped in emotion. "And now with the visions and the work that we do, I'm sorry, sorry that she's gone, that she'll never have all the things that she should. But most of all I'm sorry that it had to be her." Wesley didn't know what to say Cordelia had captured the impossibility of the slayer's life so simply, was it wrong to be sorry that someone so great had had to be, she had been the best that she could but they were still sorry because they all knew that that best could only end in an ugly death. Perhaps is was guilt that haunted them more than anything, guilt that they had all known that death every time they'd looked at her, seen it at her shoulder, a constant companion. The voice that came from the foyer startled them both. "Don't be sorry, it was her destiny, she's free now."
"Angel?" Cordelia exclaimed jumping from her seat. Wesley followed her at a more sedate pace to greet the vampire. Cordelia hugged him fiercely. "How are you?" Wesley asked. Angel smiled at both of them. "I'm okay." Cordelia looked less than convinced.
"Really I am," he insisted, "we both knew this would happen, she did what she had to do, what she was born to do."
"So I don't need to hide all the stakes or anything?" Cordy asked with a raised brow. Angel laughed,
"No". He caught Wes's eye the unspoken passing between them. They had work to do.
~~~~~~~~~
The mist was her world now, a world without time or sunlight only the haunting of memories and the voice of the First that plagued her conscience. "They mourn for you, the pain is so much for them." It said waiting for the response that it knew she would give because it was the only thing that she could do here. "At least they can mourn, they'll move on" was her firm reply.
"I had no mourners, no friends, no family, only the desert winds"
"I'm sorry. It should never be that way," she said regretting the harshness of her previous words she found it hard to accept her as human when she seemed so at home in pain. "But it is, it was, it will always be" came the reply that once again left her confused as to the nature of her new companion. She didn't say anything instead staring into the nothingness that seemed to swirl all around them flirting with form before slinking away again shyly. "Is that why. Was I being punished for the friends I kept?" The First shook her head resolutely looking for an instant almost kindly before the emotion faded into the familiar scowl of face paint and age. "No, you were always alone. They cannot know what you are, what you can be. They cannot follow you here. You have them but they cannot be kept."
"But is that the answer? Did I bring all this pain on them by trying to keep them?" she asked again the soft tremor of sadness audible in the question. And once again the First shook her head looking at her with incomprehension. "There is always pain, it is the human way, it defines them. They can only trade one kind for another their paths are set as is yours."
"But I defied my path, I defied the council."
"You were the first to follow it, the path does not lie with them." She looked once more into the swirling fogs longing for the companions that she had seemingly lost forever, for their love and familiarity, for all that she had given up, "No I don't suppose it does" she murmured halfheartedly losing the will to continue in the exchange of half truths and riddles that were always the answers to the burning question of 'why?' She mused that if she still had her body she'd weep, was it weeping for her alone in the cold earth. She couldn't bear the thought of their pain at her sacrifice, what it had done to them. She only regretted words that she did not have time to say to them as she had to Dawn, words of love, words of consolement, words of hope in passing. In particular she was sorry for Giles, their last words had been spoken in anger and she hadn't had the time to assure him of her love, to thank him for his. She felt selfish wallowing in her own regrets, the choice had been hers and she had made it willingly, finally resigning to her fate, a fate that had haunted her for years now, always in the shadows. So many regrets it seemed, a lifetimes worth of regrets in exchange for the years that she would not live.
She turned her back on the mists facing the First, "Will they be okay?" She asked in a tone that brokered no argument. "The world will continue to turn" the First replied in a mirrored tone.
"That's not enough," she countered clenching fists that were no longer there, or at least not as they had been, not as she knew them. The First was silent for a time before its face softened and she thought for a moment that she would get her answer but it only offered her more questions, another beginning to the same argument. "You think you know but you don't" it said, "your pain is our pain the pain of an eternity". She turned sharply to face the First exasperated by the circles off the conversation that seemed without end and without answer. "You just told me that they were irrelevant, that their pain is not important how can you say one thing one moment and contradict it in the next?"
"Because love is pain," she replied with equal power "and from pain we are born".
Buffy turned from her reaching her hand out to caress the mist that to her eyes seemed to curl into the touch like a cat, purring softly, its turmoil calmed for the moment. "It shouldn't be" she said at last, "I don't want it to be that way for them" The First did not reply and when she turned to see her her attention was elsewhere, looking at something that skittered at the edge of the mist, something warm and light but just beyond sight. Its appearance gave her an incomprehensible hope. When the First looked away from the light with a growl her features appeared more contorted and angry than before, making the slayer take a step back in surprise as the light withdrew completely. "Do you have the strength to continue the path that you have begun?" the First asked spitting the words out as if they were blood. Buffy was confused at what she suddenly seemed to be offering her in this strange place where nothing seemed to be. "I thought there was no path?' she asked, 'I thought it was finished".
"That is for you to decide."
"But the mist," Buffy asked confused, "how do I find my way?" the First tilted her head to the side like an animal studying its prey, "There are many ways" she said "choose one or another". Buffy was silent, thrown by the sudden semblance of a choice. Death had made her hands light and part of her was afraid to fill them again, afraid of the pain that flittered at the edge of her consciousness. "What if it's not the right one?" she asked uncertainly. "There is no right and wrong, only the choice and the journey".
"Great" she murmured to herself turning to survey the murky surroundings coming full circle to find the First gone and the mist pressing in on her from all sides. She fought momentarily to suppress a sob of panic at being truly alone for the first time, "Giles" she whispered wishing for him with all her heart, for his strength and confidence for his love that never wavered no matter what she did. "Giles!" she called into nothingness letting out the sob that sat where her heart should be, stifling its beat.
~~~~~~~~~
Consciousness came back to her slowly; a struggle up through murky waters that she wasn't quite sure was worth the effort. As she came into her senses she could feel the restraints that held her wrists and legs in place against the rough sheets. She could hear them talking nearby, the voices as hushed in the infirmary as they were in the cells, like being in a perpetual graveyard, a place where she should feel at home. She had only been to the infirmary once in her time here, had been forced through the humiliating physical when she arrived. Her slayer healing ensured that she never had to visit it again to her relief, too many trips to the infirmary could get you pumped full of drugs, she had seen the effects on other prisoners and wasn't keen to follow in their footsteps. She struggled to remember why she was here, she didn't recall being in a fight though her limbs ached as if she had spent the whole night sparring with the undead. The memory of the mess hall came back to her in a rush, her body straining against the straps as she cried out, a guttural cry that held none of the grace of grief only the raw pain of loss. "Doctor?!" the nurse called frantically, moving towards the restrained girl, the bed rocking with her struggles. The doctor rushed from the other side of the room the guard on his heels. "We need to sedate her" his hand grabbed frantically for the syringe plunging it into the girl's thigh as the guard held her down. It took a moment for the sedative to take effect, her struggles easing, the strength lost from them. "Shouldn't that have knocked her out?" the guard asked looking to the doctor. The doctor ignored him, "Give me another ten cc's". Faith was completely oblivious to them as they moved around her, the tears plastering her hair to her face, "Buffy" she whispered in a choked sob before she was once more lost to the murky waters of artificial calm.
~~~~~~~~~
The shop had been eerily quiet for hours, the silence heightened by the absence of Anya and her constant stream of chatter; Giles sat alone hunched over the last empty page in his diary. Words had always been his tools, his comfort but now he found himself afraid of them, taunted by the empty page and the heartless facts that he knew would eventually fill it. Maybe that was what he was afraid of more then anything else, betraying his love and his pain in the words of her passing. His feelings for her had been guarded so long that to disclose it to a council that despised the notion seemed a sin, a betrayal to strangers of the words that he could never find the courage to say to her. He was so tired of it all, every breath seemed to be an effort, an act of will rather than nature. He closed his eyes for just a moment to rest them from the glaring whiteness, and in that moment sleep took its chance carrying him away into an exhausted slumber.
He dreamed of her, dreamed of her smile so warmly given and of her courage, the spitfire nature that she had brought with her on that very first day when she strode so confidently into his library throwing his speeches and training back at him, forcing him to see what was real beyond his books. She let him be alive again, as they never would, as his father never would with the gentle teasing of her nature that he could not resist, that he could not remain cold to. At first she had been his charge and then slowly his friend at what point had she become his life? When did she become so necessary to his existence that even in slumber he felt her absence, felt the emptiness where her presence should be? That final conversation replayed in his subconscious as he tried to change what was real, as he tried to learn what he could have done or said to keep her with him. He had wanted nothing more than to pull her close on that couch, to hold her and never let her go as she spoke to him so softly and so brokenly, telling him her heart with a voice weary of its beating. His mind teased him that he should have known then, should have seen in her eyes, but he was to busy trying not to fall apart, to be strong for her. Was it his blindness that pushed her to jump? All of the doubts and questions all of the blame plagued his dreams tearing at his resolve boiling down to the one selfish cry at the bottom of it all, she had left him, she had died and he had not and it would never be the same again because she was all he could see and all that he had lost.
Giles woke from his sleep with a start, Buffy's name on his lips as he looked around for her where she had called to him in his dreams. He remembered that he had been searching for her in a great sea but she kept slipping away from him, pulled by the current that wanted to keep her for itself, and now he found himself on his stool behind the magic box counter the book on his lap on its way to the floor before a hand flew out to catch it. "Willow" he sighed rubbing at his face.
"I didn't mean to wake you," she said "you look tired," he dismissed the comment with an, 'I'm fine' busying himself with the book in front of him. Her words shocked him with there directness, her face so serious, "You can't do this to us Giles, we miss you" she said softly. He looked up at her but his eyes registered nothing as she had come to expect. "I don't know what you mean"
"I heard you call out for her, you know it's the first time I've heard you say her name. You have to mourn for her Giles and come back to us"
"Willow I don't want to talk about this I have a lot of work to do" he said rising from his seat and walking away from her but she wouldn't let it go. "You know if we weren't here, if we didn't need you I think you would have followed her into the ground, I think maybe a part of you already has". He stopped at her words his back still to her and there was silence for the longest time. "Giles!" she said at last "I can't lose you too, I can't hold this together by myself. I miss her as well" she couldn't stop the sob that escaped her though she swiped at her tears. "I'm afraid," he said almost too quietly for her to hear.
"I don't understand?"
"If I mourn her, let her go, then what's left?" She took a step towards him his back still facing her as she tentatively reached out a hand to his shoulder in comfort. "We are, please don't leave us." He turned to her then his eyes still bleak but softer than a moment ago as they studied her, he drew her to him hugging her protectively, "where would I go?" he whispered as he rubbed her back in a fatherly gesture that seemed so natural to him where the young witch was concerned, his words offering reassurances that he wasn't sure that he could keep as his eyes drifted to the door behind her the bell on its mantle stirring a forgotten memory of Buffy's soft laughter as she had given it to him a 'shop warming present' she had called it. He saw her standing in the door her hair tousled from the wind outside and her cheeks lightly flushed and as his heart jumped, believing the dark weeks that had passed to be no more than a nightmare, the image changed the hair darkening and lengthening instead into the sibling that she had left in their charge.
"Hey what'd I miss?" the young girl asked good naturedly as Giles withdrew from Willow stepping back to allow her to turn to the new arrival with a big smile. "Dawnie you're early" Willow replied recovering quickly from her outburst. Dawn scrunched up her nose as she moved towards the table to dump her bag. "No, just eagerly on time. Giles' gonna teach me how to work the cash register."
"I did wonder why Anya wasn't here" Willow replied with a conspiratorial smile. Dawn chuckled the sound a welcome relief to the tension that had been in the room before she entered. No matter what Willow and Giles said it was their feelings of responsibility to Dawn that kept them both going, kept everyone from wallowing in their grief. The younger Summers had become their focus they all wanted to give her the normality that they never had, needed her to still have the choice despite all that she had already lost. And she was coping with the loss better than all of them, she had not forgotten her sister but she held true to her words, hers wishes, she wouldn't let them forget.
The afternoon passed quickly the shop filled with laughter for a change as Dawn learnt the register giving Anya a run for her money with the swiftness with which she caught on to the whole capitalist consumer market. Giles left her with Willow trusting the young witch not to lead her too far astray and not to make his cash register disappear again. Before long it was time for them to leave and he once again found himself alone in the shop its silence all the more empty for their passing. But the silence didn't last long the bell above the door signaling the entrance of a customer. Giles frowned from his place around the back of the shelves where he was tidying, he was sure he had asked the girls to flip the closed sign on their way out. As he came around to tell the customer that they were closed his face froze at the sight of Travers. He was alone, no parade of Watchers or thugs to back him up and the fact made him appear smaller and older some how.
"Giles" he nodded in greeting stepping further into the room and noting the dark circles beneath the other mans eyes, he looked haggard. He had seen many Watchers who had lost their slayers but none looked so haunted as this man, in the dim light of the shop he looked no more than a shadow, and a dangerous one at that his anger at the intrusion of the council crackling around him. Travers moved to sit at the table giving the appearance of being unfazed by the hostility in the air. "What do you want?" Giles asked not moving from his place by the stacks. "Why, to pay my respects of course" Traverse responded promptly. Giles laughed the sound more of a snort. "We may not have agreed with her methods but she was an amazing girl Rupert even we aren't so blind to not see that."
"Oh yes I have an answer machine full of your condolences" he replied sarcastically, Travers sighed the sound foreign coming from him. "I'm sorry for that but I'm afraid in the larger eyes of the council she will always be just a number"
"Yes, I know the drill, one dies and the next is called. But we don't all have the luxury of seeing her as just a number." Giles snapped. Travers looked up at him meeting his sad but blazing eyes from across the shop. "I'm afraid that's the problem Rupert" he said his own eyes looking tired.
~~~~~~~~~
"Dawn eat your carrots" Tara said as she cleared the plates from the table, reaching for the empty cup of blood that sat before Spike. The vampire pulled a face as he looked at the orange vegetable on Dawns plate. Tara nudged him for his effort giving him a disapproving frown, "Yeah" he stammered "that's right niblet carrots are very important" he didn't sound overly convincing and Dawn gave him a dubious stare, "You don't eat them" He looked to Tara for help but she was already heading for the kitchen hiding her smirk, he was on his own Dawn looking at him expectantly, bugger how did he get himself into this, he knew there was a reason vampires didn't sit down to dinner. "Well no, I don't" he shifted around in his seat uncomfortably, "And see I'm dead, no pulse... I sure as hell wish I'd eaten my carrots now" He smiled triumphantly at his quick recovery, "That is so lame" Dawn retorted nibbling on the vegetable nonetheless.
"Hey, you know I'm still pretty hungry and your starting to look awfully tasty, carrots and all" Dawn just laughed at him as he puffed up his chest looking generally crestfallen when she failed to be intimidated by his threat.
The laughter followed Tara into the kitchen where Willow was washing up, she giggled at the bits of the exchange that she had managed to catch before she left the room. "Those two are as bad as each other," she said placing the dirty plates on the side. Willow didn't say anything her back to the room as she stood over the sink staring into the darkness beyond the window. "Hey" Tara said softly stepping up behind her and laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. Willow smiled at her, broken from whatever trance she had fallen into, "a penny for them".
"I spoke to Giles today" she said softly, "He wouldn't even say her name" They were both worried about the librarian, he smiled at them and went out of his way for Dawn but he wasn't there, he was stepping back from them only the others hadn't begun to see it yet, they wouldn't until it was already too late. "These things take time," Tara said trying to console her.
"What if we don't have time, I can't lose him too Tara, I can't" A tear rolled down Willow's cheek as she looked imploringly at her. "You won't," she said reaching for the red head's face wiping the tear away lovingly, "you don't have to be the strong one Willow". She shook her head, "Yes I do... I do, I have to take care of Dawn and Giles and I miss her so much" she sobbed. Tara pulled her into her arms stroking her hair as she cried. She only wept for a moment, only allowed herself that lest Dawn see her. She sniffled as she drew back, wiping at her reddened face "Travers was here today" she said darkly. "From the council?" Tara asked, Willow nodded, "Did Giles say what...?"
"I felt him, he doesn't know." Tara wasn't overly surprised Willow had grown so much in the past few weeks her powers increasing since the battle with Glory, "They could send him away, Buffy's not here to stop them now."
"I'm sure they wouldn't do that, he, he probably came to talk to him about the new slayer. They wouldn't do that" Willow nodded eager to believe her, she turned back to the sink and the washing up,
"It's more than that, everything's so hard, it hurts, it hurts so much" Tara wrapped her arms around her again as Willow continued to look out of the window, "I know sweetie, I know."
"Hey I ate half of them, Spike's gone to..." Dawn announced as she made her way into the kitchen breaking off as she saw the two witches "what's wrong?" she asked seeing Tara holding Willow. Willow moved back quickly swiping at her eyes again for good measure, "nothing Dawnie everything's fine"
"Liar" Willow looked to Tara pained, they were supposed to be protecting her, helping her move on not reminding her at every turn that her sister was dead, had jumped to save her. Dawn sensed exactly what was wrong in their silence moving to hug the red headed witch fiercely. "Its alright to miss her Willow" Willow bit her lip her voice watery when she spoke hugging the youngster back. "Tell you what" she said, "why don't we make brownies, Buffy always loved brownies". Dawn laughed,
"Yeah she used to eat loads and never put on any weight, what I wouldn't give for a slayer metabolism"
~~~~~~~~~
She lay on her bunk staring up at the dirty ceiling above her. She had long ago counted all the cracks, knew the pattern of discoloration better than she knew herself, although that wasn't exactly hard considering. She often wondered given the choice if she would have chosen the coma over the monotony of prison life, caged by her mind rather than walls of brick with cocky guards at every corner. It made it even worse knowing that if she wanted to she could break out, run and not look back, forget that Sunnydale had ever existed. But she didn't, she took the crap that was dished out to her never lashing out back at them, she had learnt well to control her temper but she couldn't make it disappear, she could only hold the darkness at bay, she feared its residence had long ago become permanent. She didn't even know the girl that she had once been, before the death, before night and demons had whisked her away. She could hear the footsteps of the guards along the corridor, his keys rattling on his belt as he walked. The lights had gone out a few hours ago and she was alone in her cell with the confusing memories of the events of earlier, the remnants of the drugs quickly broken down by her slayer healing. Her room mate had died by her own hand months before, she had often considered that route herself but knew that it would give the Watchers too much satisfaction to go through with it, especially now, besides she wasn't ready to give up on life yet. That was one of the problems with prison it gave you time to think, reflect, all the things that she'd done, all the people that she'd hurt, they were her audience, her judge and jury and there was no escape from them, even in here. The footsteps outside the door grew louder as they got nearer and she subconsciously tensed shrinking further into the corner. The lock on her cell slammed across, the kiss of iron echoing in the near empty room. The dark figure of the guard stood before her, backlit by the few lights from the hallway, "It looks like it's your lucky day," he said with a smirk that sent a shudder of warning down her spine that she suppressed. The guard stepped aside allowing a smaller figure to enter the doorway, a figure that she had seen before only a handful of times but knew well from Buffy's tales, his English accent deep, "Hello Faith". Travers.
~~~~~~~~~
As usual Giles was tucked away at the back of the Magic Box his head buried in paper work. He had smiled at them as they had entered an hour ago but he hadn't moved since. Dawn was doing her homework at the large table with Xander's help although he was a distraction more than anything else, Anya had exiled him to the table for upsetting her money spending customers, wasn't love grand. Willow approached Giles sitting down beside him where she could still see Dawn but not be overheard. She hadn't spoken to him since his confession of yesterday and she was strangely nervous. She had been watching him for a while on Tara's advice that she just ask him about Travers and had decided that the best course of action was to just dive in. "What did Travers want?" she asked softly so as not to be overheard by Dawn. Giles turned to her stunned. She stuttered her explanation quickly, "I, I wasn't spying I sensed him, all dark and English and there's no one else he'd come to see but you." She smiled apologetically.
"I didn't realize how strong your powers had become" he said Willow shrugged nonchalantly "I've been paying attention more lately you know since..." her words trailed off as she looked away from the softening of sadness in his usually sharp eyes. She was thankful that he didn't press her on the matter merely nodded and took her hand in his large one squeezing gently, almost shyly, she was still raw from last night's sugar binge- none to good for the grief. His touch was more familiar now than it had ever been, his remaining shyness making it all the more meaningful because he would give it to them so freely. She knew that was all he would do, but he would never bring it up unless they did and always comfort them with the same understated affection, he would never cry never speak of his own hurt, unless pushed like yesterday, just share theirs as they needed him to. She could feel only the shadow of the pain that he harbored from her now, he had buried it deeper since she last approached him and she wondered if she had done more harm than good. The selfish part of her didn't want to see it, wanted it to stay buried, wanted him to stay with them as he used to be because his pain had the power to destroy them all. It ran so deep and so dark that even that small glimpse had scared her, that they might lose him to his grief, so she chose not to push him again.
After a moments silence in which they both watched Xander and Dawn laughing while he waited for her to gather herself he answered her question. "A new slayer hasn't been activated" She was relieved Tara had reassured her but she had still worried that it would be easier for him to leave them than stay. "Do they know why?" she asked a concerned frown creasing her brow.
"Not really, they think perhaps the natural order is simply realigning there has always been only one and..."
"Faith" Willow interrupted, "but she's in jail"
"Not for much longer" he replied his eyes still fixed on Dawn, she looked like Buffy sometimes when she smiled. "They can do that?" Willow questioned.
"Yes and they want me to be her watcher"
"Here? They're sending her here," she lowered her voice with a furtive look at the room realising that risen above a whisper "But you're Buffy's" It was so strange and yet so familiar a thing to say, to an outside observer it would perhaps connote a lovers relationship rather than what they'd really had, he was hers and she was his as no one else could ever have been in Willow's eyes and yet they felt they could put another in her place. "I know" Giles replied after a beat looking down at the paperwork before him rather than her face, "I refused at first but this is still the hell mouth, it will not stay silent forever and I have experience with unconventional slayers. Faith fits that category, they believe that I can handle her." They were both silent for a moment as it sunk in, could they really begin again, replace her just like that? "It's what she'd want isn't it?" Willow resigned trying not to cry at the thought of her lost friend and her sacrifice.
"I think so" Giles conceded with equal sadness "she fought so hard with the council I can't let them forget all that she taught them. She told me that she and Faith had reconciled, that she was trying to make things right it seems only fitting some how." It wasn't a lie they had in fact found a middle ground despite the terrible pain inflicted by both sides. They had been sisters whether they wanted to be or not, their fates made them kindred as no one else could ever be to them, sisters in the death that haunted them, in the life it denied but demanded they guard. "If she can forgive her then I guess we can too" Willow said with forced cheer, thinking the same thing as Giles "but it won't be easy"
"Nothing ever is" he replied his voice low as he tried not to think of all that they had faced and lost over the years the never ending sacrifices and now they were delivering another to the slaughter. "When is she arriving?" Willow asked.
"Today" he replied grateful to be drawn from heavy thoughts.
"Wow they don't waste any time do they"
"They can't afford to, the Hellmouth's been unprotected too long as it is. I'm afraid a neutered vampire is really no adequate a replacement for a slayer. No matter how good his intentions." Willow smiled at the term before her eyes were drawn to Xander and Dawn once more. He wasn't going to take the news well he made no secret of his dislike for Faith. "Will they bring her to the shop" she asked "Yes" was his one word reply as he to watched them as they laughed. "We'll be here," she said firmly. Giles was shocked and turned to her, his forehead set in a concerned frown. "Willow you don't have to, you have no responsibility to Faith or the council."
"Hey,' she said 'we're the scoobies it's what we do, she's going to need all the help she can get right, this is a tough town" Giles smiled,
"You really are an amazing young woman" Willow blushed at the compliment the shy girl from Sunnydale high suddenly visible again, "Yeah well I wouldn't say that just yet I've still got to talk Xander around"
~~~~~~~~~
So far things were not going as planned, Faith had arrived early and Xander was not taking it well, as expected. Willow cursed that she had not been able to talk to him sooner, things were moving so fast. At the shocked faces on her arrival Giles had shown Faith through to the training room while Anya had conveniently offered to take Dawn home rather than witness the fireworks as Xander's temper kicked in. "What Buffy dies and they send us psycho girl to replace her is it just me or is anyone else struggling with the logic here" he exclaimed his gaze darting from Willow to Giles across the magic shop as they revealed the reasoning behind Faith's sudden appearance. "Did no one think to warn me before hand that we were expecting our very own Freddy?"
"Faith is the only slayer now" Willow entreated softly, shocked by her friend's uncharacteristic anger. Xander shook his head standing defensively by the door "No, no, no. Buffy was the slayer she saved the world, she put her life on hold for it, permanently. Faith is evil, she chose her side at graduation she's not the slayer anymore."
"It's not that simple Xander" Giles replied his voice as measured as ever as he glanced toward the backroom where Faith was stowing her few bags. "We're still on a hell mouth, there is still danger, this is what Buffy would want, she'd want you all protected."
"How do you know what she wants, she's gone, dead, and you're replacing her with Faith" he retorted.
"No ones replacing her" Willow implored placing a soothing hand on the boys arm, "we couldn't". Xander looked into the witch's eyes seeing the sadness and pleading there that he accept this, he sighed in frustration he could never refuse Willow and she knew it. "I know Wills I just miss her". Willow gave him a swift hug and he nodded his apologies to Giles over her shoulder.
He noticed Faith standing at the back door tentatively. She was so different from how he remembered, her hair was shorter, as Willow's had been when they started college, but it was more than that, her demeanor was more timid, not cowering but humble, she made him think of Angel when he had returned from hell. Not the most kindly of associations seeing as dead boy wasn't high on his list of people he'd want to be stuck in a room with. Giles and Willow noticed his gaze and turned to look at Faith as she hovered clearly uncomfortable. "Faith" Giles said in a weird kind of English greeting or something.
"I'm sorry I just..." she began to reply her gaze sweeping over them before fixing on the wall again, "I don't want to replace her. But I'm here. I want to make it right"
"You sure its not just better than jail?" Xander questioned his tone still defensive.
"Xander" Giles scolded.
"I know you must hate me, wish that it was me instead of her. The things I did to you... If I could change that I would, if I could have taken her place, but I can only change now and I want to be here for her."
"You wouldn't have been good enough to go in her place" Xander retorted.
"That's enough!" Giles said standing from the table to glare at the boy. If they had been closer they would have seen the moisture glistening in Faith's eyes. "I know that" she said softly drawing their attention once more, "do you think its easy for me to come back here where all the darkness is. Prison's a picnic in comparison. I don't give a shit about the council I'm here because I owe her." Willow smiled at her reassuringly the kindness of the gesture not lost on the slayer; Giles raked his hand through his hair giving Xander a cautionary glance before turning to his new charge. "She forgave you, though I'm afraid we're not all as charitable as she was, we can offer you another chance" He turned to look at Xander and Willow for their approval. "Sure" Xander said halfheartedly in reply. Willow looked at him and then at Giles before walking over to Faith, she looked deeply into the girl's eyes her own eyes darkening with power as she looked into her gently catching but a glimpse of the terrible remorse there. She nodded withdrawing her magic's touch, she held her eyes for a moment longer noticing their wetness before pulling her into an embrace "I want to believe in you" she said softly parting from the surprised slayer 'I want to help"
"Okay" Faith mumbled with a surprised frown looking from the witch's accepting eyes to Giles' approving nod. "Now I suppose there's just the question of where you'll stay." He began "Its no big I can crash in the training room"
"It's not very comfortable..." Willow commented.
"It's got all I need" Faith finished before she could protest anymore, she didn't want to ask any more of them than what they had to give for her to do her job. Despite the reassurances that they had offered her she was still wary so very aware of all that she had done to them in her time here, all the pain that she had waged. She was grateful for their easy acceptance of her but it was too much. She felt Buffy's absence acutely, felt the sudden weight shift to her shoulders and she was so afraid that she wouldn't be up to the job, she knew that she could never compare to her but she wanted her to be proud where ever she was, she wanted her to be assured that she would do her best that she would keep them safe for her.
She was relieved when they left for the night leaving her alone in the dark shop, she didn't realize how tense she was in their presence until they were gone and she could breathe again. She knew that everyone was waiting for her to fail, oh they didn't mean to but she hadn't exactly given them much to measure her up against in the past so their pessimism was to be expected and she accepted it on top of her barrage of guilt at being the slayer that they got stuck with when they should have a spanking new model. As she roamed around the training room looking at the equipment that had been lovingly fixed up for Buffy by all of them she started, her slayer senses tingling as she heard a noise from the front of the shop. She crept quietly through the training room to the door where she could see the whole of the shop and was greeted by the shattering of glass as the window was kicked in. Her body tensed for the fight ahead as she saw the very inhuman intruders enter, their faces vamped out. "I guess they heard I'm back," she mumbled to herself before launching through the doorway in a flying kick.
~~~~~~~~~
She wandered for what seemed like hours but could have been minutes, time was different here it didn't move as it did there and she had no way to measure it, no sun, no moon, only the ever swirling mists that seemed to ebb like the tide of some unknown sea. She wished for them, for Willow's magic and reassurance, for Xander's humour. She couldn't help but worry about Dawn, and Giles, she worried about him most of all. She knew that he would carry them all through it but who would carry him, who would look after him and tell him that everything would be okay. She didn't realize how much of her heart he held until he was gone from her. She didn't think that death would be like this, it felt like they had died and left her alone. It had all been so clear and now she was filled with doubt, and in the secret place that she never let any of them see she was angry. Angry that she had died, that she had had no other choice than to give her life for the world, again. This wasn't how she thought it would be. She was the slayer, where other girls her age thought about perfume and lipstick she thought about death and what it would be like, it was an occupational hazard that she had hidden from them but which Giles had called her on in the quiet times when they patrolled or trained and she had grown quiet in habitual contemplation. Before she had always thought of it as sleeping, the big sleep where there was no annoying alarm clock to wake you, no responsibility to pull you back. But since her mother, she hoped, hoped that it was a wonderful place, like the kind she described to Dawn. Oh she wasn't religious but she couldn't believe that that was it, her mum had been so alive, so, mum that she wouldn't just disappear. But that place of loved ones and peace was nowhere in sight, all she had felt was the pain and the numbness, the haunting aches of a body that was no longer there but which she clung to out of habit. Maybe she was wrong maybe this was hell, a hell where she was left alone with only her thoughts for eternity.
"Hello?" she called into the swirling mist in desperation, the thoughts in her head driving her crazy. She didn't want to be afraid, she was tired of being afraid, she had felt that too much in life to suffer it in death as well. She had nothing left to fear anymore, they couldn't take anything more from her, so she yelled for anyone that was listening, because anything was better than this silence. "Can you hear me, talk to me, please."? There was no reply and she curled herself up into a ball as best she could, seeking comfort from limbs that weren't there. "Talk to me" she half sobbed. The voice when it came startled her, its whisper tickling her ear with a soft breeze that seemed out of place and so wonderfully real in the seeming vacuum of the mist. "There can be no tears here" it said sadly its voice as light as the breeze that it accompanied. She turned to it trying desperately to see whom it belonged to but there was no one there, the mist thickening and swirling to hide any depths from her. "Please?" she said again in earnest unsure why but needing to hold onto the stranger with the soft voice. "Who are you?" she asked calmly trying to lure it as she searched the mist, she could swear that she saw a lightening behind the curtain of it but it was so faint that she couldn't tell, whenever she looked any closer the swirls returned drawing it from her. "Okay" she began, panicking again, "you don't have to tell me who you are, but stay with me. I don't want to be alone anymore."
"You were never alone" it said.
"Well you know I'm not exactly surrounded by people." She mused the sarcasm slipping in out of habit. "You're afraid to see." The voice told her.
"I don't understand"
"You long for them but you cannot see that they are all around you. You hold them in your hand" Buffy looked down at the place where her hand should be, empty greyness greeting her there. "Show me?" she asked. There was no response from the other the mist shifting as if deliberating her request. As she watched the shifting became concentrated, moving into a shape, the design intricate and delicate woven as if by a thousand tiny spiders until the face that she had thought she had lost in her demise stared back at her. She was transfixed by the image of her own eyes, her hair only partially woven spinning into the mass in which she was trapped. "What do I do?"
"Look" was the only reply, the eyes of her other self-changing as colour seeped into them like a bleeding wound. She looked closer trying to see the colours that contorted in the depths their shape just out of reach. She could feel the pull of them, a powerful force in the void. One moment she was alone and the next she wasn't, it was like time had stood still and in one moment she was back in the training room with Giles, the fight with Glory only hours away. Their conversation had been so final, the only goodbye that she had given him, his earlier words had still stung and she was so angry that she couldn't look at him as she spoke, "The spirit guide told me ... that death is my gift. Guess that means a Slayer really is just a killer after all." Now as she watched herself saying the words over, the words that she regretted for all that they had not said, she watched him, saw the pain contort his features, "I think you're wrong about that"
"It doesn't matter. If Dawn dies, I'm done with it. I'm quitting". She watched herself leave him there on that couch, not even looking back at him once. She moved forward, desperate to touch him, to let him know that she was still there and that she hadn't meant it like that. His head fell to his hands as he began to weep. She had no time to take the final steps to him before the scenery changed, "Wait, wait" she called but there was no answer.
She was outside, it was night, a voice behind her made her turn and she was relieved to see him again. He looked different though his face so hard, not the Giles that she knew, he was moving towards something, Ben. She gasped, "God no Giles, please" but he couldn't hear her anymore than she could stop him, "she couldn't take a human life...She's a hero, you see. She's not like us". It was her turn to cry now, sob for what she had forced him to do. "I don't want to see anymore," she said desperately unable to look at him as he heard the thunder crack as she jumped, the sudden silence that followed it. She saw him move towards it, knew what he would find. "Please".
The green grass of the cemetery was a welcome relief from the darkness; the sun bright peaked between grey clouds. She had imagined this so many times, her death, her funeral, but to be there, to see them. Dawn clung to him by her graveside her eyes red where his focused on nothing. She watched as Willow and Tara pulled her away to a waiting car leaving him with a wary glance. He didn't even look up as they left, his hands releasing Dawn as if he didn't even realize he held her. His eyes were dry, almost so dry as to be empty. She had done this, the sorrow that had gnawed at her, the regret it was all well founded in his dark eyes. "I'm sorry Giles" she said aware that he couldn't hear her but needing to say the words anyway. "I never got to tell you how much I... you should never have had to do that" She was shocked when he spoke. "I would have died for you" he was still for a moment studying her headstone as if waiting for a response, "I should have"
"No" she whispered
"I never got to say" he seemed at a loss the tears rising to his eyes unbidden making him look so dangerous, "you left me", she thought for a moment that he might strike out but he didn't. Instead he lifted the single rose that was in his hand, its petals white rather than red. She watched with her own tears as he bent to the stone tracing the letters with his hand reverently, he kissed the flower holding its petals to his lips a moment longer than was necessary, "I love you". She gasped as she heard the words, the emotion in them throwing her but not surprising her. She knew this, in every guarded touch, in every look she knew this, but they had never spoken, she had never spoken it even to herself and now she never would. This was what she had given up when she had jumped.
"That final gasp. That look of peace. Part of you is desperate to know: What's it like? Where does it lead you? Every Slayer... has a death wish." She was back in the mist as the image of herself said the words to her, the voice strange but the words familiar. "I didn't know, I didn't choose" she replied, shaken by the revelation that was surging through her, the memory of so many moments, the looks that she had missed, the touch that told so much more than she had been willing to see. All that she had ever wanted right in front of her only she hadn't known to look and now... "I want to see them" she said her voice still shaky but determined now, "show me".
"We cannot" the voice answered the image unraveling before her eyes as if a piece of string had been pulled, glimpses of them visible in its decay, Giles alone in the shop staring at empty pages, Willow crying as Tara held her. She peered closer trying to hold onto the glimpses as they twisted in the tangle, she could see her own kitchen, Tara was speaking to Willow but she wasn't listening she was looking at something her face so desolate. Buffy followed her gaze to the darkness that lay beyond, no more than a normal night. But wait something twisted in its embrace, a shift barely perceptible but there and growing, something bad, so bad. The image vanished before she could see, disappeared into the mist that was denser now the colours darkening as if infected by the thing that she had seen in its image. "What was that?" she asked.
"The end" the voice replied solemnly.
~~~~~~~~~
Giles stopped short on his way into the magic shop his eyes surveying the disarray of herbs, books and magical implements that scattered the floor before finally coming to rest on Faith, who was attempting to tidy the mess. "What the hell happened here?" he asked surprising her as he continued to take stock of the scene. "Just some of your locals letting me know that I'm not welcome" she replied as she replaced an ornate figurine of a deity on the counter that had somehow managed not to get smashed in the fray. "They knew you were here," Giles said more to himself than Faith.
"Seems like it," she answered with a held wince as she bent to pick up more of the scattered artifacts. The sound jarred Giles into action as he made his way towards her. She froze as he approached her, book still in hand. "Let me see" he said as he reached out to the side that she was harboring. She winced again as his hands made contact with the wound before lifting her t-shirt for him so that he could better see the gash in her side. She remained still as he probed the wound assessing the damage, "glass" she said before he could ask, and he simply nodded in response his mouth a thin line. His attention was making her uncomfortable and she took an unconscious step back. "It's okay I've had worse," she protested. He looked at her strangely for a moment before ordering her to sit down as he went to get his first aid box; she obeyed him automatically watching him tend to the wound with a stormy face. She didn't say another word just tried to keep her winces to a minimum. "I'm not angry at you Faith," he said as she rearranged her top over the bandage, she didn't reply. "You're the slayer I should never have let you stay here. You need to rest without having to worry about vampires coming after you in your sleep, it was careless of me, I'm sorry"
"Not your fault" she shrugged. He shook his head as he watched her avoid his eyes.
"I should never have allowed it, I would never have allowed Buffy". She looked up at him at the mention of her name, it was the first time she'd heard him say it. "Hey my choice" she said softly.
"Not anymore. You're the only slayer now and I won't lose you to stupidity". She bit her lip as she attempted to rein in the unfamiliar emotions that threatened to spill from her. She had not expected this from him after all that she'd done, had not ever anticipated that he would accept her. Her silence seemed to worry him and she hurried to reassure him, "Thank you Giles. I um, I know that I'm not what you wanted"
"No you're better. You're experienced and you have a reputation that makes them fear you, you're exactly what we needed. I don't care what happened before Faith I'll judge for your actions now." He said offering her his hand. She looked at it warily for a moment before taking it and allowing him to help her up. "Now about my shop." He began once more taking in the mess.
"If it makes you feel any better they didn't live to gloat." She offered meekly.
"Mmm," he replied "all the same I think Spike should patrol with you tonight" She frowned, "Spike? Isn't he...impotent" Giles could not hold in a grimace at her choice of words.
"Only in regards to humans" he explained dusting off a miniature monkey's head "although I wouldn't mention it it's rather a sore point".
~~~~~~~~~
It was late by the time she finally arrived at the Summer's house she had spent the majority of the day helping Giles tidy the magic shop while a strange woman called Anya moaned about the damages and whether vampires realized how much money it took to repair before kindly asking Faith if she could perhaps lead them outside next time. She gave Giles a questioning looked to which he rolled his eyes before she assured Anya that next time there was an attack she would try to avoid the more expensive items in the shop which afforded her a winning smile from the ex demon. She was staying at Buffy's house at Dawn's insistence, it was a house for slayers she had said and nobody had had the heart to refuse her.
She ran an early patrol accompanied by Spike at Giles's insistence and found herself warming to the strange blond vampire. "So you're the replacement?" he asked dragging on a cigarette as he they wandered through one of the many cemeteries. He offered her one but she had told him that she was trying to quit which had won her a gravelly chuckle. "Yeah" she replied to his first question, "although I think they would have preferred someone else" He shrugged
"Nah, anyone coming here would've upset them. Sunnydale was Buffy. We're all trying to figure our way through this they don't need the burden of an inexperienced slayer on top of that." She paused looking down at her hands for a moment before he stopped realizing that she was no longer beside him. "I hurt them," she said.
"Me too, I've tried to kill em, her, too many times to count. I loved her and I hated her but they still let me in. People like them they don't dwell for long they know life's too short, you prove yourself to them and they'll embrace you, it's what makes them so special."
"Why are you still here if she's gone" she asked as they began to walk again. He sighed looking at her from the corner of his eye before he answered her, "I made a promise, told her I'd look after the little bit till the end of the world, didn't figure that was gonna be too long at the time but I gave my word, it was about the only thing I could give her." He looked up at the moon before throwing his cigarette to the ground and stamping it out with the toe of his boot. "We should probably get back I think you shook em up a bit last night" he said with a grin as they headed back the way they had come in a companionable silence.
As they drew nearer to the house she grew uneasy she hadn't been here in so long and the house itself was haunted with so many memories of her everywhere you turned there was Buffy. Spike noticed her hesitation at the bottom of the porch steps and he turned to her again "It's alright'" he told her "just me and the bit and she wants you here" Faith nodded uncertainly following him into the shadows of the house he told her that her stuff was up stairs in the spare room before heading into the kitchen to grab a bag of blood. She made her way up the stairs slowly taking in the pictures on the wall and the occasional dents and re-plastering from past attacks. As she made her way down the upstairs hallway she noticed the open door to Buffy's old room. She sat in the doorway leaning against the pristine white frame but not venturing inside. The room was exactly as she remembered in from her few visits here when she had been invited in openly as a friend and equal. It was such an innocent room of youth and dreams, the type of room that she'd never had but always dreamed of, the haven of a slayer. The butterflies on the wall were as they had always been, the sheets on the bed as clean and unmarred as ever now wrapped around a younger Summers' who took comfort in the lingering scent of her sister in her slumber. She had expected the room to be crumbling after such a loss, she knew it was silly but she had felt such fear as she had approached the door, held her breath as she looked within. She had visions of the wallpaper peeling away and crumpling to ashes the sheet melting like used wax now that the heart had been ripped from it. But her fears were unfounded; it was just a room, a room thick with her presence, her life but still just a room that was now a shrine for her passing that she dared not enter but could not turn away from.
She stared into the room from the doorway watching over Dawn as she slept content to sit on the threshold. She didn't know how long she sat there, she couldn't bring herself to leave even though her lids felt heavy with sleep the empty darkness behind them beckoning to her. And she found herself succumbing to it for longer and longer moments as her lids dropped denying her wakefulness. When next she blinked them open the room was bathed in the mornings light cast through the shadow of the blinds that crisscrossed the room creating a patchwork of colour. The bed was empty its sheets strewn over it carelessly. She found herself beside it instantly without having taken a step, pulling at the sheets to straighten and tidy them as she remembered doing in some distant place and time that she knew did not exist. As she straightened the sheet she noticed a patch of blood blossoming at its center growing, as the bed itself appeared to bleed. She froze for a moment at the sight of it her hand reaching out against her will to lay its palm upon it. The flash of memory that didn't belong to her caught her in its web the bright light of the door swirling around her like liquid lightning alive and hungry. She felt a second of shattering pain before the vision was gone as was the blood leaving the bed perfect as it should be, freshly made and pristine. She felt more than saw movement at the door turning with slayer speed to catch but a glimpse of blond hair. She moved towards the door in pursuit stepping through it into her old apartment that the mayor had bought for her, a reward for her allegiance, compensation for a life. But the rooms weren't as they had been but piled high with boxes. She gazed around at them confused only half aware that all was but a dream. The child's laughter that she heard startled her; it was so out of place amongst the emptiness of the room, the memories that dwelt there. But it was real a child was there sat amongst the packing partially obscured by it. "Hey,' Faith began making her way cautiously around the boxes that had seemed to double in amount for her efforts as she tried to make her way towards the child, 'are you going away?" she asked shielding her eyes from a glistening light that it seemed to hold in its hand as she peered around the boxes. She could see her more clearly now her blond hair braided down her back and tied with a pretty pink bow, she couldn't have been more than four years old. Faith tried to smile sweetly at her but she found the façade hard to maintain here. The child was holding a beautifully gilded dagger shaped like a cross but deadly where it should be divine. "Be careful its sharp" she found herself saying to the child as she pointed at the knife. The child just shook her head smiling kindly as she twirled it, "It can't hurt us we're already dead" she said matter of factly her voice holding a depth of regret before she plunged the dagger into her own chest the action so violent and sudden that Faith found herself falling backwards and stumbling over the crowding boxes, all vying for a good view. When she recovered herself the child was still sitting there the dagger deeply embedded but it was not blood that she bled but light that pooled at her feet edging its way closer to the fallen slayer much to her dismay. "No" she screamed scrambling for a hold to pull herself to her feet and away. She rummaged in the boxes only managing to dig herself deeper into their midst before she felt herself falling the floor having vanished from beneath her.
She moaned softly as she felt the sun on her face coaxing her from sleep. She could feel a soft bed beneath her wrapping her in its crisp clean sheets. She snuggled deeper into the covers trying to ignore the nagging voice in her mind that questioned how she got there, she could even smell bacon and toast cooking downstairs its aroma teasing. "You know you should really get up, early bird and all that," a familiar voice said from somewhere in the room stopping her from slipping back into sleep. She opened her eyes reluctantly turning from the lightened window to where the voice was coming from, the face that she saw told her that she was not awake, not really unless miracles had started happening and she doubted that. Demons and hell she knew, miracles were fairy tales. "What did you say?" she asked rubbing her eyes as she sat up in the bed that Dawn should have been sleeping in. "You're the one now, you hold the weight of the world"
"That's not why I came," she said swinging her feet around to sit on the edge of the bed casting a wary look over her shoulder at its center where the blood had been the last time. "But it's why you'll stay" the blonde said. Faith closed her eyes, they burned with tears that she would not shed here, it burned just to look at her and know that she wasn't real. "I don't know if I can do it, I'm not you and it's so hard"
"Into each generation yada yada yada, ask him to give you the speech he knows it by heart" she said with a reassuring smile that Faith didn't quite manage to return, "you'd better have breakfast there's a lot to do" she continued. Faith rose from the bed slowly reluctant to leave the room and the company of the blonde, she found it oddly comforting here, "I should make the bed first" she said, Buffy just nodded rising to help her straighten the sheet once more, it fluttered as they tried to tidy it, caught in the breeze that filtered in lazily through the window. It rose as if sucking in the air briefly obscuring her view of the other girl who held tight to her own end lest the sheet take flight. When it settled Faith breathed a sigh of relief that the girl was still there but the room had changed, darkened, suddenly cold where a moment ago it had been warm. Buffy was staring at the center of the bed and Faith couldn't help but follow her gaze gasping involuntarily at the return of the blood. Her eyes were transfixed as it blossomed devouring the pristine white to crimson tides she could hear Buffy speaking but she couldn't look at her, couldn't see anything but the growing red. Once more she stumbled away from it with a fear that as the slayer she should not feel, she covered her eyes as a child would afraid that as she fell to her knees it would claim her. But the attack did not come leaving her feeling shaken and foolish.
In the silence that surrounded her now she could hear the child again singing softly, an old rhyme that she vaguely remembered from childhood,
Poor Jenny is a weeping, a weeping, a weeping
Poor Jenny is a weeping on a bright Summers day...
She opened her eyes slowly afraid at what she might see. What she did see was not the room. She was sitting in its doorframe but that was all that was left of it the rest of the world a desert. She could see the child a few meters away sitting before a gravestone, Buffy's gravestone, singing the same song over and over as she built castles in the sand, she was frowning as they continued to fall down before she could finish them, it was only then that she saw the gaping wound in the child's chest. The sobs that broke from her were beyond her control and it drew the little girls attention from her castles as Faith clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle them. The girl shook her head. "You shouldn't cry the true slayer doesn't walk in this world she is born in death."
"But I need her, I can't do it alone." She wept. The girl just shook her head again before cocking it to the side and looking deep into the desert beside her as if listening to something or someone. She turned back to Faith with an eager smile on her young face once more. "Come" she said holding out her hand and waiting for Faith to take it. She looked from it to the girl's hopeful face warily for a moment before moving to her feet but as she took a step towards her she felt something pulling on her shoulder, she shrugged it off determined to get to the child but it was persistent, shaking for her attention. She could see the child's hand begin to sink to her side as the shaking continued and she shouted out in frustration at the force that was pulling at her, "No. No...Buffy!"
Spike went crashing into the opposite wall in the hallway scrambling to his feet and back to Faith who was looking around frantically as if searching for something, her breathing labored. He laid his hand on her shoulder as he tried to calm her drawing her eyes to his face as he spoke. "It's all right love, just a dream". She frowned at him "She's not here?" she asked still casting her gaze into the shadows searching.
"Who?" he asked softly.
"A little girl, she was going to show me, I think...she was going to tell me a secret," she mumbled.
"The only little girl here's fast asleep but don't you tell her that I called her that or we'll never hear the end of it. She's as much a spitfire as any Summer's." he said affectionately casting a look towards Dawn who slept on unawares. She found herself for a moment jealous of the love that surrounded the young girl before she remembered the pain that she harbored beneath her youth she was no more a child than any of them had been but she still had the chance to be if she would take it. "You thirsty?" the blond vampire asked helping her to her feet, "Joyce has the best recipe for hot chocolate". Faith nodded attempting a smile as the blond vampire turned and headed for the stairs. She hesitated in following turning to look warily into the darkened room half expecting to see the child there waiting for her. But there were just the butterflies on the wall and the soft breathing of the sleeping girl the words of the dream child resounding in her head, *the true slayer doesn't walk in this world she lives in death*.
~~~~~~~~~
Giles lingered in the shop long after Faith had left with Spike to patrol, delaying the return to his empty house. Somehow the shop, though empty, seemed far more inviting than his own sitting room. Sighing Giles gave the room one final check, to save himself a tirade from Anya in the morning, noting with pleasure the dents and scuffs to the floors and tables that were part and parcel with being slayer central as they called it. The shop was filled with memories of them even though they were not there, the very air whispering of late night research fuelled by pizza and obscene amounts of ice cream. He wasn't sure if it was the room that was nostalgic or him in the grief that seemed to have settled to his very bones. He forced a sure stride to the doorway though there was nobody but ghosts there to convince, flicking the switch on the memories that played out in a continuous reel, and locking the door behind him as he reluctantly headed home for the night.
He arrived at his porch to the insistent ringing of the phone, getting through the door just in time to pick it up before the answering machine could get it. "Hello?" he said balancing the phone as he reached with his foot to kick the door closed before flinging his bag onto the sofa. "Oh hello Willow" he said with a kinder tone as he recognized the young witches voice. He answered her enquiries about the magic shop assuring her that he and Faith were both okay and that the slayer was staying with Dawn and Spike at Dawn's insistence, and that no he didn't think they'd mind if she went around to check on them in the morning, smiling at the mothering role that the witch had adopted with regards to Dawn in Buffy's absence. "Good night Willow," he said at last hanging up the phone to be greeted by the silence of his empty apartment.
He moved through it in the semi shadows with the ease of long familiarity and habit but with a newfound trepidation. It was here that he was at his most vulnerable where the memories and regrets could so easily assault him, where he was stripped of his protective guise of responsibility, laid bare in the place that he called home. The liquor cabinet called to him like a harpe with its promise of forgetfulness and a numbness that was so tempting to fall into, that would be so much easier than this constant ache. But today had been a good day; he had done something constructive today, something positive in the eyes of the outside world, something that he thought she would be proud of. Faith had returned to them so different, her anger tamed by her stint in prison, but he could still sense the spirit of the slayer beneath her humble exterior she just needed a little help to find her way again. And he would help her, would throw himself into his duty to her and to them but it would never be the same, she would never be Buffy. He couldn't help but think of her a 'his' slayer. In the empty rooms the alcohol continued to call to him with promises of a brief respite, one glass couldn't hurt, what else did he have.
~~~~~~~~~
Spike was busy in the kitchen when she finally made her way downstairs, he didn't say anything as he worked, placing the steaming cup of hot chocolate before her, marshmallows bobbing on the surface. She didn't really want it but it was a distraction, something to do with her hands rather than wrung them. "Good?" Spike asked, taking a seat across from her. She nodded after taking a sip,
"I can only imagine how it tastes to a human, vampiric taste buds, not all they cracked up to be" she couldn't help but smile at him, he was an endearing mixture of contradictions, strangely at home in the Summer's kitchen with his bleached hair and leather duster flung over the banister. She never ceased to be amazed by the turn of events in this house, they had taken her in hadn't they, she supposed a vampire wasn't too much further a stretch, soul or not. "You want to tell me what that was all about upstairs?" he asked, sensing that her mind was wandering. "Nightmares" she explained flippantly, not meeting his eyes.
"Buffy?" he asked, she shrugged, "it can't be easy" he continued his eyes sympathetic when she looked up. Of all the people she picked to relate to she had to choose a vampire, god what kind of slayer was she. But Buffy had trusted him, trusted him enough to put her sisters life in his hands. "I felt it," she said, so softly that if it weren't for his otherworldly senses he wouldn't have heard her. She laughed as he stared at her his eyes softening as he made the connection, "Oh pet". She didn't know how to take his sympathy, she hadn't done anything to deserve it, it was sympathy that should have been paid to her but she wasn't here. "There are too many ghosts in this house," she mumbled instead in explanation for her earlier outburst.
"Ghosts, memories, only time'll lay them to rest," he replied with his own nonchalant shrug that couldn't quite hide the turmoil that lay just beneath the surface. They were a fine pair to protect them both crippling under a responsibility that she had given them that they didn't have the strength to carry. She forced her own smile relieved in a way to have told some one, they were both haunted by her, enthralled by a thing that they could never have or become.
~~~~~~~~~
She was alone again; the voice had disappeared after delivering its news, left her with her misery. She was in Hell she had decided or if not she was at its gates, turned away even from its fiery pits. Memories of Sunday school teachings came back to her, there was no place in heaven for those that took their own life they'd said, maybe they were right. Maybe this was the hell for those that did, an endless emptiness in place of a world that they couldn't face. She had wanted peace, wanted all the questions, the sacrifices to end maybe she'd gotten her wish. "There can be no peace for us". She was past the point of being surprised by the First, unconvinced that she wasn't simply a voice in her head, an image she'd conjured to comfort herself, if that were the case she really needed to practice a bit more. "Then maybe it's better for it to end, if there's no peace to be had then what's the point" the First was thrown by her words, the defeat that tempered them. "There is no peace for us only the fight"
"I did fight, I died and it still wasn't enough." The First stared at her circling in her crouched position her head cocked to the side like an animal. "Choose"
"I did!" she shouted back, tired of this, of the helplessness of this place.
"The slayer is forged from pain".
"You keep telling me that but I don't know what it means. I'm not the slayer anymore" the First looked at her moving closer to touch her hair, her hand stopping only centimeters from her face unable to come any closer. "You are the first and the last"
"What?" she was confused the face of her ancestor looming over her. The First held out a caked hand unraveling the fist slowly to reveal her palm. "You hold fate here, chose a path"
"I can go back?" Buffy asked hopefully. The First smiled the sight unnerving.
"Perhaps that is where it begins"
"How"
"You wish for peace, you wish to save them?" she asked as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
"Yes" she replied eagerly, "just tell me how"
"Learn our past and you may pave their future." She was overcome she had never expected, never hoped that she would be given a second chance, the journey, her words they meant nothing if she could return to him. "Yes" she said the word beginning a rumbling through the mist shaking into its threads fracturing, the First stepped back as the fragments moved towards her like snakes as they crawled up her arms and legs, fighting to reach her mouth as they dove within. She began to panic feeling them twisting in her stomach as they continued to come, so much, the whole mist unraveling around her and rushing to get inside. She wanted to scream but she couldn't. The First watched fading from view along with the mist, "Death is your gift" she said, "death is your gift"...
~~~~~~~~~
Giles woke with the half empty glass of whiskey still in his hand balanced precariously from his slackened grip. It saddened him that he had managed to hold onto it even in his sleep, he didn't know at what point he had acquired that particular skill. The room was dark now night having crept in as he dozed. Something had woken him leaving an eerie feeling of unrest in the room, the air charged and expectant. He began to worry, he had grown to trust the instincts that old magic's had left him with the night setting of ancient bells. He grabbed for the phone dialing Willow's number from memory. It was answered on the first ring, "Giles" Willow said immediately. "You feel it?" he asked putting the glass down on the table.
"Yeah, I don't know, it was afraid, sad.... In the cemetery I think. Giles?" He was gripping the phone so tightly that his hand hurt, his knuckles white. "I'll check it out," he said.
"What about Faith, Spike" she asked worried.
"No!" he said the word coming out harsher than he'd anticipated he sighed, "just trust me, I'll call you. Promise me"
"I promise," she said softly. He hung up the phone unsure why it was so necessary that he go alone, he didn't know what it was that had woken him anymore than Willow did but he didn't want anyone else out there. He grabbed a couple of stakes and left the house letting the door swing shut on the darkened rooms behind him.
~~~~~~~~~
She was crying when she woke, clutching at her throat and screaming "No" she didn't know why, the fear and the sadness weighing down on her chest. She couldn't breathe and it took her a moment to realize why, she was trapped in a box, no a coffin, she was in a coffin. She began to panic clawing desperately at the lid every nightmare she'd ever had returning to her as she ripped at the fabric ignoring the pain in her hands. Why? She didn't remember! The earth rushed through the hole in the lid threatening to bury her alive if she didn't fight her way through it, crawling to the surface and air. She needed to breathe so badly. It felt like she climbed forever her lungs burning before she broke through, felt the wet of grass against her palms. It took the last of her strength to crawl from the hole and lie against the cool stone. She only allowed herself to rest for a moment turning to push herself to her feet shakily. The sight of the headstone froze her, the words etched on it familiar but she didn't want to know, she looked down at her bleeding hands, *Dawnie I have to* she shook her head, she was wearing a white jumper, she remembered the white jumper, she, so much light. Was she a vampire? She hadn't been bitten but she couldn't look away from the grave, her grave that she had just clawed her way out of. She wanted to scrunch into a ball and hide away, she didn't want to think about this, all the pain of that last run coming back to her, so many tears, too many... A shout in the night made her jump.
The cemetery was quiet and still, he should have expected the vampires that jumped out at him but he was so distracted with what had awoken him that he didn't notice them until they had surrounded him. There were at least five, grinning like maniacs at his stupidity. He prepared himself for the attack cursing his insistence that he come alone, "Stupid old man" the vampires laughed as he yelled running at them stake drawn. The first one threw him easily against a crypt and he collapsed awaiting the next blow but it never came. He heard them panic and cry out, scrambling to his feet he watched as the dust from the dead vampires settled around him and then he saw her, standing where the last of them had fallen, the makeshift stake held in her hand as she looked at it as if she didn't know what it was. He stumbled watching her from his place on the ground unable to move, he was so afraid that she wasn't real, that he had finally lost his mind or better still died and she was what awaited him. He recognized it now the tug that had pulled him from sleep, weeks of its absence had made him forget, the worry, the sense of her that had always connected them. Her white jumper was ripped and dirtied the white lost to the dust and black of the earth. The fact angered him irrationally, such an irrelevant thing but something that she shouldn't have to suffer. When he could feel his legs again he moved carefully trying to find his feet with the least amount of noise possible. As he rose she looked up suddenly aware that she wasn't alone. He held his arms out before him as if he were dealing with a frightened animal; he couldn't bear to lose her now. "Buffy?" he said softly taking a hesitant step towards her, not caring for the why or the wherefore of this miracle as she watched him, her face completely expressionless. The sound of a car from the road driving past at high speed startled them both and her stance changed as she made ready to flee, but he continued to coo nonsense words at her repeating her name every now and then trying to calm and reassure her of his protection.
She seemed unsure whether to flee or stay with this familiar man who promised that she would be safe, the noise of her own thoughts made her head hurt and she raised her hands to her ears as if she could block it out the voices that clamored to be heard making her dizzy. She remembered tears and pain, so much, and the whiteness that seemed to be everything, swallowing the world into nothing and taking the pain along with it. She saw the edge of the scaffold and the peak of the sun as it tried in vain to compete with the light that promised its obliteration, she felt her feet moving her, throwing her into a fall that would never end. As she began to tumble Giles rushed forward, catching her before she could hit the ground and pulling her protectively into his chest. He sighed with relief as she curled into his embrace like a child, letting go of his held breath as she wrapped her arms around his neck letting him take her, rather than fighting, as he knew she could.
~~~~~~~~~
It started as a low rumbling that slowly built in tempo until the ground itself vibrated with the sound that came from deep within, a cry that loosened smaller stones that had harboured in the rock face, frightening gulls into the air shrieking their beady eyes settling to observe from a distance this abhorrence of nature. It was a though the stone yawned wakening from whatever sleep had subdued it for so many years, its features worn by sea and sand. It continued to stir and rumble, ill of humour, a gaping crevice sliced through its face, stretching into the world. Steam rose from the opening as if breath, its first taste in thousands of years stirring memories of the last that cut the rumbling to silence as all around life waited.
~~~~~~~~~
The trip back to his house was thankfully uneventful achieved on autopilot as he refused to think, to question only feel, she remained passive unwilling to relinquish his touch as she kept her face buried in his chest. He struggled with the keys abhorred to let go of her for even a moment. When he finally got the door open he guided her inside, throwing the keys to a nearby table, hearing them skid to the floor but not caring. He glanced at the couch and then back to what he could see of her in his arms in indecision, she was covered in dirt and cuts he knew that he should clean her up, that his Buffy would insist on it but he didn't want to scare her, to see that haunted look in her eyes. She didn't even know him when she looked at him, her eyes emptier than he had ever seen them, raising questions in his mind that he couldn't answer, didn't want to have to answer just yet.
Going with what the Buffy he knew would chose he headed instead for the downstairs bathroom, sitting her down and prying her hands from him gently. She looked at him, her hair falling in tangled curls around her pale face, and he couldn't resist the temptation to brush them from her eyes with shaking hands. But when his eyes caught hers he found himself drawn nearly to tears by the lost look that dwelt in them. Pushing down the lump that threatened to rise in his throat he gave her a watery smile, "Lets get you cleaned up" he said, as if to a child, reaching for a cloth and running the water in the sink while she watched him, knowing that she probably didn't understand his words but needing the routine of them to complete the action. He started with her hands taking his time to clean the grime and blood from them, unsure if the injuries were from tonight's battle or the one of months ago. She had the same clothes on that she had died in and his brain couldn't explain it to him so he blocks it out, filling the sink with clean water. He moved to get a new cloth dipping it into the water again, the process soothing in itself, before moving to clean her face.
She watched him avidly, her eyes following his every movement before fixing on his face. He didn't even notice as she lifted her hand bringing it to rest on the lines that creased his brow, he had tensed himself to stop the tears that have been threatening since he first saw her. Her action stilled his hands as he cleaned her, bringing his eyes to hers "Giles?" she breathed almost too softly for him to hear, the voice filled with her. He couldn't utter a word in response, his voice choked by the emotions raging through him so he just nodded smiling at her brightly. "It hurts" she said her voice stronger now. Oh my darling girl he thought so overjoyed that she recognized him. He cleared his throat so that he could answer her, never taking his eyes from hers as he resumes cleaning her face. "I know love, we'll make it better." The shake of her head confused him. "It hurts," she said again taking his hand from her face and bringing it to her chest, over her heart so that he can feel its beat, "it hurts here". Her voice so innocent and pleading the simple words shattering what little self-control he had left and he couldn't stop the sobs that broke through his body, bowing his head because he didn't want her to see, but at the same time can't leave her. Her arms moved around him automatically cradling him against her tightly, "Thank you God" he whispered the words muffled in her shirt but heard nonetheless. Somewhere a head bowed in pity, watching the sweet reunion but seeing further into the future to the despair that awaited them, so many tears.
Part 2
She's quiet on the bed now, sleeping. I ran out of tears long ago at about the same time that she ran out of strength allowing me to carry her upstairs to rest, treasuring the closeness. I can't bring myself to leave her, I watch the air moving past her lips, the very action fascinates me and I can't say why or when but it does. As long as she's breathing so am I, as long as I'm watching her I'm alive. That's what it felt like when she was gone, numb, dead. I don't remember breathing when she wasn't here but I don't imagine I held my breath the whole time. I wonder what else I've forgotten, but it doesn't matter anymore because she's here and she's alive and I ran out of tears hours ago. I know I should call them, should tell them the good news, but I'm not ready to share her yet. I know it's selfish but I can't help it, my face still burns from the touch of her hand earlier. It's funny, despite the years I've known her I don't think I've ever realized just how petite she is, how fragile she appears with her hands that barely reach around mine. Of course I know she's not fragile, not really, but right now with the air moving slowly in and out and her hair tumbling in waves around her, she is. I want to reach out and touch her again, want to so much that it burns. But I don't, I won't over step that boundary, I don't have the right. I just watch her breathing, watch like I always do, like I always will.
~~~~~~~~~
The slam of the front door a few hours later woke Giles from his slumber with a start, jumping his tired nerves. He could hear Willow's voice calling his name frantically downstairs and he rose cautiously from his seat. He didn't know how she was still asleep but she was, and still breathing. He ran into Willow in the hallway as he stepped out of the bedroom door running a hand over his stubbled face. He could only imagine what he looked like, still caked in the stubborn mud of the night before. She ran to him when she saw him, hugging him before punching him on the arm angrily. "I was worried sick," she said. He was confused by her contradictory reactions rubbing his arm somewhat surprised by the outburst. She was watching him now waiting for an answer but his still sleep-addled mind couldn't quite remember the question. She looked past him at the half open bedroom door, spying a small movement beneath the rumpled sheets. She turned to him confused, ready to apologize for disturbing what she was beginning to think she had disturbed. But the look in his eyes stopped her short as she began to take in the state of his clothes. He shifted his body to make way for her as she stepped towards the threshold. She gasped as she saw the blonde hair sprawled across the pillow, grabbing for the frame with shaky hands as her eyes grew wide. She could hear Giles moving closer behind her but she couldn't move her eyes from the figure in the bed. She tried to open her mouth to speak but words seemed to escape her, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, floundering for air before one word slid free, "how?" She felt Giles sigh behind her,
"I honestly don't know" Willow bit her lip,
"Is she, is she her?" Her watery eyes looked up at him hopefully but fully prepared for the illusion to be shattered. He swallowed the lump in his own throat as he explained to her, whispering so as not to wake Buffy. "I was attacked and she stopped it, she didn't know who she was at first but I think it's coming back to her now" he paused looking back to the figure on the bed. Willow's voice was stronger when she next spoke, measured, "but she died Giles, we buried her"
"I know, I know"
~~~~~~~~~
"I don't get this film, why doesn't she just go and ask Superman for help, I mean they're supposed to be like cousins or something aren't they?"
"Maybe she feels that she made the mistake and she should be able to fix it her self" Tara replied diplomatically. Dawn scrunched up her nose from her seat in the corner of the couch, munching on a big bowl of popcorn, "But it would be so much less hassle, I mean hello, world in peril stuff, plus the eye candy factor of course" Tara looked back at the television set in thought,
"Oh I don't know, she looks pretty good in those tights," she said with a straight face. Dawn looked at her unsure for a moment before Tara broke under her scrutiny, a grin splitting her features. Dawn threw a hand full of popcorn at her that she ducked unsuccessfully. They were both laughing as Spike and Faith entered from their late night sweep. Spike smiled pleased to see Dawn laughing so easily, "What'd we miss?" he asked leaning against the doorway to the den, Dawn beamed up at him giving Tara a side long look of triumph, "the uncompromising power of blue spandex" Spike frowned before he caught the cover of the video case on the table, "Bleedin pounce in tights" he exclaimed.
"Hey" Dawn yelled, "That's a cultural hero of our time"
"Poncess" Tara interrupted.
"What?" He asked looking from one to the other as Faith watched on bemused. Tara continued,
"It's supergirl so technically it's poncess"
"You know you should really think about spandex, blue could so be your colour" Dawn teased.
"Bleedin hell!" he yelled reaching for his ears to cover them.
They were still laughing and teasing Spike as the front door opened once more admitting a shaken Willow. "Hey Will you gotta..." Dawn froze when she saw the witch's face, silence falling in the room. "What is it?" Dawn asked beginning to panic and looking beseechingly to Tara.
"Is it Giles, did you find him" Tara asked rising from her seat to go to her girlfriend. Willow took her offered hand as her eyes returned to Dawn who watched her from the couch. "Giles is fine," she said at last, "Buffy's with him"
"Buffy?" Dawn asked her voice wavering. Willow nodded,
"She's back Dawnie, she's back" The silence of the room seemed to be sucked away in the array of questions that flew about at no one in particular. Dawn sat in the middle of it all the tears and happiness at war on her face. "I want to see her," she said, the soft words ending the chatter in the room in an instant. Willow just nodded, "I have to call Xander" she muttered moving for the phone.
"Tell me she's okay?" Dawn called desperately. Willow paused looking back at them,
"She's Buffy" she said the smile breaking across her features.
~~~~~~~~~
There wasn't even a knock at the door the next time; they just seemed to fall through the entrance way in a heap looking around expectantly. Willow held Dawn's hand, the younger girl clinging to her desperately. Giles was standing in the living room by the fire waiting for them; he had changed his clothes and composed himself for their arrival. "Giles?" Dawn asked shakily.
"She's upstairs," he said holding his hand out for Dawn, she came to him taking it as he led her up the stairs. Xander moved to follow them but Willow stopped him, "Give them a minute," she said pulling him into a hug at the distraught look on his face, "she's home, she's not going anywhere". Anya and Spike seemed at a loss as they all waited, so many weeks and now all they could do was wait.
Dawn stopped outside of the bedroom door, "I'm afraid," she said softly looking up at Giles.
"I know," he said.
"How can she be back?" he squeezed her hand reassuringly.
"Truthfully Dawn I don't know, perhaps some wishes do come true" She seemed to accept this taking the final step forward to the door and going inside. She burst into tears the moment that she saw her, the noise waking the slayer that still slept in the bed. She looked at Dawn her brow crinkling for a moment as if coming to them from a great distance; Giles feared that she wouldn't recognize her, held his breath, "Dawnie?" she said at last, the one word freeing her sister from her temporary paralysis. She collapsed onto the bed flinging her arms around her. Buffy held her as she continued to cry stroking her hair, "Hey, did you miss me?" she asked with a smile her eyes locking with Giles' over her shoulder. Dawn only cried harder laughing in amongst her sobs. She sniffled drying her eyes and pulling back to look at her sister, she noticed the bandages on her hands; "You're hurt" Buffy tensed and Giles took that moment to intercede.
"Why don't you take Buffy downstairs Dawn," Dawn smiled eagerly.
"Everyone's here" Buffy rose from the bed nervously Dawn watching her every movement like she might disappear or something. She still felt so strange, out of synch with the world around her, her reactions to it labored and heavy. She let Dawn lead her down the stairs babbling about so many things at once, she was comforted by the steady presence of Giles, missed the warmth of his closeness. He had frightened her when he broke down into tears, she had pulled him to her automatically her mind nagging at her with something that she needed to remember, an image of him with the same tears... but she didn't have the time to search for it now, Dawn's hand tugging at her in her haste to have her family reunited at last.
To say that they overwhelmed her was an understatement. They all hugged her fiercely at first before stepping back but Dawn didn't let go, like all of them she needed to be touching her in someway to ensure that she was real and that she wasn't going to disappear. In Dawn's case this meant that when she wasn't hugging her she sat beside her, her hand held tightly. The gushing was over with quickly; words it seemed were inadequate to describe the shock and delight. The attention was suffocating in its way but she endured it because they needed it, she couldn't answer their questions but she could give them this. As with all things that are painful it didn't take long for things to slip back to normal, for the easy banter that they had always shared to return lightening the tension in the room. "Do you know where you were, how you're back?" Willow couldn't help but ask as they were all seated on the couch at ease in the company of each other, only Spike and Giles it seemed removed from the setting, the vampire retreating to the shadows of the corner and Giles busying himself in the kitchen. "I don't remember" she replied apologetically.
"Does it even matter Buffy's back all's right with the world" Xander said munching on a handful of cookies with Anya snuggled into his side. "I guess not" Willow replied still studying her returned friend, something in her features puzzling her but it was so small a thing that she couldn't put her finger on it and was unwilling to dwell when there was such happiness afoot. "Maybe you didn't die at all, I mean it was a portal you could've just been trapped" Tara offered by way of explanation.
"But we buried you" Willow said unconvinced. Giles reentered the room with a new pot of tea for everyone frowning at the course the conversation had taken, "We have plenty of time to figure it out there's no need to bombard Buffy with questions now". Willow looked slightly bashful smiling in apology at the slayer.
"It's alright I wish I could tell you I really do"
"The cuts on your hands say a lot pet, sort of wounds you get from clawing your way out of a coffin" Spike commented from his dark corner having listened and watched quietly so far. Buffy stilled looking down at her hands, they didn't hurt anymore but the memory of them did. She held the vampires eyes for a moment. "Takes someone who's done it to know," he said with a shrug.
"Oh God" Xander exclaimed. They were all shocked at the revelation and after a moment Tara stutteringly tried to provide some kind of explanation, "Maybe your essence got separated from your body when you closed the portal, it would take time for it to find its way back right?"
"It's a possibility," Giles conceded.
"We should have checked" Willow said close to tears.
"Oh God Buffy" Dawn repeated her eyes on her hands now as if mesmerized. She didn't know what to do, how to comfort them when she didn't know anymore than they did. She stroked Dawn's hair cooing at the younger girl, "It's okay Dawnie, I doesn't matter now, it doesn't matter" she hoped to god it were true.
She shifted under the weight nestled gently at her side, attached like a limpet against the current of a sea determined to steal it away. They were all collapsed in the arms of sleep on the sofa's, the exuberance of the day so quickly caught up with them. She had allowed her mind to drift as the chatter eased, her presence accepted as her death was quickly put aside, an unnecessary pain to be remembered. Amazingly it was still dark outside, as if someone had seen fit to stretch this night on forever. Her mind still felt so fuzzy, the edges of conscience blurred and teasing at her with a nagging memory that she couldn't place, a thing to do or be that she had neglected. In that momentary lapse they had slipped into the tides of sleep where they now rested, their breathing surrounding her. She was comforted and suffocated by it at the same time and soon found herself sliding from her place to escape it. She took a final look at them from the relative safety of the living room door, her mind wondering as to the whereabouts of her Watcher. He had managed to slip away at some point in the night and she now felt his absence keenly with an awareness that she had never felt before, or perhaps never allowed herself to feel. An image of his tears played in her minds eye again and she remembered wiping them away and pulling him into her embrace, the memory brought with it an awareness of her heart as its beat sped up, an awareness that felt alien in her chest, the tight confines of the body incapable of holding it. She had felt nothing as she'd fought them, their dust raining down around her had failed to stir a beat from her heart, but his pain had brought her back from an abyss of forgetfulness so easily.
She stepped out into the cool night, drawn to the emptiness of the dark sky, taking a deep breath of cold air. She could feel eyes on her immediately; smell the smoke as it rose from his cigarette. He was watching her carefully, his eyes surveying the body that had delivered her back to them as if looking for any sign of its treachery. She assumed that he had found none when he spoke, "Do you know how many nights I wished for this, for the Bit, for myself, and here you are and you look just like her"
"I am her" she replied looking at him where he stood, his cigarette the only light illuminating his face. He looked different somehow. Throwing his cigarette to the floor with an errant flick of his wrist before he stepped close to her. She could see that he was shaking as he drew nearer, looking into her eyes, searching for what, she didn't know. "You died" he said softly, his face close enough that she could feel his unnecessary breathe. She wondered if he had always done that or if it was a habit born of too much time spent with Dawn. "So did you" she replied not stepping back from him. He laughed then,
"Yeah but I'm a demon love" He took a step back seeming to accept that she was Buffy and not some imposter, though his hands still shook imperceptibly. He pulled a new cigarette from the packet and lit it as she watched. "Thank you for looking after her". He shrugged,
"I promised didn't I?"
"You didn't have to" she said. He looked at her with dark eyes suddenly.
"Yeah I did".
"You're a good man" she replied smiling at him with the kind of smile that he had always longed for from her. She was at ease by his side, a companion rather than an enemy. "Not as good as him though?" he answered perceptively. She frowned, the smile slipping from her features and her eyes downcast for a moment no pretence necessary before the vampire that wore his heart forever on his sleeve. "How is he, really?" Spike took another drag from his cigarette,
"Hard to say, too bloody English for his own good"
"Don't they say it takes one to know one" she said the smile returning.
"Oh we've got more than that in common" he replied his meaning in the words that he didn't say.
"I know"
"He's upstairs, can smell the whiskey from here. Drowning his sorrows in the good old English tradition, one of us had to be". She looked at him and he was surprised to see genuine remorse in those eyes.
"Hey don't worry about it, every demons gotta have a dream, at least I got to hold mine". She kissed him on the cheek as she stepped into the house, making him still as he watched her disappear. He threw his cigarette to the floor losing the taste for the burning tobacco in the light of the soft warmth that lingered on his cheek. He felt a damned fool for the pleasure that swelled in his chest for so small a thing but wouldn't have given it up for the world, "You've turned into a damned ponce" he muttered to himself, "Summers whipped", though the last was said with a smile on his cold lips, there were worse ways to spend an unlife.
She found him hidden away in an upstairs room, an office that she had never seen him use, its space too small to house all of them. As she looked in she felt like she was imposing on a very private space, the walls heavy with his books and memories, the parts of his life that she didn't know, untouched by the Scoobies, the dark wood of age and tradition. He was sitting alone in the darkened room, the familiar whisky decanter within reach but as untouched as the glass of honeyed liquid in his hand. The room appeared pleasantly cluttered, as if some fervent work was still in progress, books opened and notes scattered about the large desk. He was sat at the desk chair looking out of the window, rejecting the promised comfort of the chaise that nestled along one wall. She watched him quietly; he seemed a statue, frozen in a moment that she couldn't touch. He didn't hear her as she walked towards him. She wanted to quip for him, act like nothing had changed but she couldn't quite do it, was ill equipped in the clothes that she had borrowed from him that made her look all the more like a child that had wandered into a nightmare. "Hello," she said startling him. He raked his hands across his face and through his already rumpled hair moving to rise. "Buffy I..."
"It's alright," she said reaching for one of his hands as she ushered him to sit back down in his chair. He sat and she found a place on the nearby chaise, looking at him properly for the first time. He seemed to have aged since she had gone, his features were the same as they had ever been but there was a new sorrow that she wished she could take from him but knew she could never totally erase. "So, I guess I missed a lot these past few months?" Giles coughed replacing his glasses, raising the shield of Watcher that was a familiar comfort to both of them. "Yes, Willow has become quite the adept witch and Dawn..." she cut him off before he could continue to list the many achievements of the Scoobies, each reached under his watchful eye. "I meant you." He looked into her eyes then, revealing deeply scarred depths blinking too late to hide it from her. "I'm sorry," she said softly, looking away guiltily death not enough to erase this fear in her, the fear of what she would see if ever he really let her. He shook his head, "I should be sorry, you're back", he couldn't say the words, *from the dead* swirling his glass instead before he stumbled on "...and I'm hiding in the dark"
"We're too alike." She whispered, "You can't always carry the weight of the world Giles; sometimes you have to let go."
"Jump?" he asked before he could stop himself, the word slipping out like a thief. She was a moment in responding but the cast of her eyes didn't change, the sadness still there. "Sometimes it's all you can do. If there had been another way..." He sighed wearily shaking his head.
"I failed you. I was your Watcher and I let this happen." His words struck a cord in her and she suddenly felt the need to touch him. She shifted from her perch coming to kneel before him so that he had no choice but to meet her eyes. "I made a choice. We both knew the price" He raked his hands through his hair again as he glanced at her up turned face, the gesture born of restraint. She moved taking his hand that held the drink, putting the still full glass on the table. It shook slightly but the warmth of her hand in place of the cold glass seemed to steady it as he ran his thumb over the smooth surface of hers as if committing it to memory. She smiled at him, her secret smile that she only gave to him. She could see the watcher's diary, their diary lying on the desk the pages blank and waiting, "Talk to me," she implored as he noticed her glance. He hesitated, still stroking her hand before he spoke, marveling at the softness of her creamy skin and the ease of the touch. He wouldn't follow her eyes to the book, its pages as poignant a haunting as the ghosts that walked the rest of the house in her absence. "This is what I regretted," he said instead "all the little moments that I'd let slip away. You laughing, happy, listening to that infernal music because you knew how much I hated it," he raised his eyes from her hand to look at her, "I couldn't see it for the pain that you'd had to bear. Buffy the truth is I wasn't strong, not enough. I fell apart and I would have kept falling." She shook her head,
"No, you took care of them" He couldn't look away from her as she clasped his hand in hers knelt at his feet. "I wish that were true" he said. She seemed intent on his hand turning it over and over in her own as if every line held an answer the soft white of her bandages a painful reminder that it didn't. His other hand rested on the blank pages of the diary, so many battles held within its pages, "I know I promised you but I, it was all I had left of you, I couldn't hand that over to them, I didn't have the words." He said by way of explanation. "We both made mistakes, so many things we didn't say," she looked up at him her eyes determined but still soft. "I don't want that, I don't want to die again regretting the life I didn't live." She paused for a moment before speaking the last, fear and hope in equal parts "Regretting you"
He didn't know what to say his gaze fixed on hers as she held him with such promise. "I want you to be happy" she smiled. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, the moment so fragile he was sure to breath would shatter it. He shifted in his seat bringing his other hand to her face to cradle it, delighting when she leaned into it confirming the shift that he had witnessed in the darkening of her eyes. He had never dared to hope for what she was offering but she sat before him and she was real and she was looking at him like he was the whole world. He loved her so much, he almost believed that she was a dream; he had had so many of this moment even before she had left him. "It was never the time," he whispered.
"It never would have been" she replied looking up at him, her eyes so blue that he had to close his for a moment before he was lost in them. "The only moments we have are the ones we take," she whispered. He chuckled softly, "When did you become so wise?"
"I guess it took death to open my eyes " He stilled staring at her serious face seeing the sincerity there, the truth. "I'm an old man Buffy"
"Not to me" she said without a beat.
"Are you sure?" he asked while he still could, holding his body tightly. He felt her fingers fluttering over his forehead as she rose from her perch, soothing the lines of battle and age there. "I'm sure of one thing." She said her breath warm against his face "It's never going to be enough, I can't keep the world safe."
"Buffy?" He questioned with the last of his resolve, the last of the propriety that had been drilled into him by the council since birth, *You have a fathers love for the child*. What did a council know of love, they had only glimpsed the surface of a devotion that ran so deep that even he didn't know it entirely, had only basked in its warmth and its prison, moments to cherish and hold, and now she was offering him the dream "But I can save you, if you'll let me." She said as if reading his thoughts, his heart conversing with her where his mind had shut down. "Why now?" he asked.
"Because life's for the living." She said simply her lips so close now that his eyes shut instinctively as he held his breath under her seduction. "I want us to live," she whispered her lips grazing his the words becoming a promise in the touch.
~~~~~~~~~
The streets of Sunnydale were like a maze, turn one corner and you'd find children and candy cane turn another and the back streets of hell opened up before you. You lived in Sunnydale you already had respect, only the highest class of demon called the hell mouth home, you had to be bad to live somewhere like that, had to have the guts to look the devil in the face and give him the finger. Jack had seen a few devils in his time, lived with some of the worst of them and survived to tell the tale. Of course you wouldn't know that to look at him blond hair that hung longer than it should, curling enough to make him look innocent, blue eyes too, a regular cherub. He liked it that way, had learnt to use it to his advantage, no one was going to arrest someone who looked so innocent, you couldn't read a soul in a face could you. It got him a bed often enough, which was better than sleeping in the car, talk was cheap and so was he if he was desperate enough. "Hey gorgeous" Carter called sarcastically as Jack entered the old warehouse, passing through the rotted boards to the flickering fire that was home for now. He gestured at him obscenely not sparing him more than a glance as he picked through the clutter to get to his ride. "Aww come on where's the love, huh?"
"Fuck off Carter" Callis called as she got out of the rusted car where she had been sleeping, Jack caught her round the waist pulling her into him before she could do more than shout at the kid, "I've only got eyes for you, you know that baby" he cooed kissing her with force.
"You get the money?" she asked breaking away from him.
"Yeah, I got the money" he replied indignant, moving in to claim her mouth again.
"Was she good?" she demanded. He smiled slyly at the jealously that flashed in her eyes, she was a wild one; rip your eyes out in your sleep if you crossed her. He liked that, liked that she was his and he had this power over her. "I've had better," he said not bothering to suppress the smirk as his hands continued to creep across her body. He could hear Carter chuckling from across the fire; the kid was young and too quick for her to do him any real damage. "Fuck you" she said to him pushing at his chest.
"Right here baby?" She scowled and he kissed her again feeling her soften and her hands roam over him. She pulled back from him like before a wad of cash from his pocket in her hand. "Come on Carter we got provisions to buy" she said. He grabbed her wrist sharply stopping her from leaving, she challenged him from a moment before relinquishing the fire leaving her eyes as she kissed him submissively, "get some sleep we'll have fun later" he released her reluctantly the mark from his hand red on her pale skin sending a thrill of ownership through him- no he wasn't as innocent as he looked.
He watched them leave crawling as he had through the window. He chuckled too himself as she swiped at Carters head just when he thought he was safe, that kid never did learn not to cross her, had a crush on her a mile wide. They had tried to shake him lose for weeks but he was like lassie, he always found his way home, might come a time when they'd have to break him of that but for now he had his uses, nimble fingers to go with the feet. The boards slid against the concrete again and he grinned, "Couldn't wait huh?" he said expecting to see her waiting for him when he turned around. "Well you know it's dinner time and I never did learn to be patient," said the first of the three large men that stood behind him, their faces too pale for humans morphing into vamps as they grinned at him ferally. "Shit" he hissed.
"Hey Jack you miss me?"
"Like a hole in the head" he sneered recognizing the vamps from LA.
"Maybe we can try that later". He feigned to the left kicking a metal barrel into their path before making a run for the back exit. He was cursing him self for an idiot as he ran, should have been more careful, should have waited a while longer before going out a night. His breath came hard as he ran through the allies between warehouses. They were in an older part of town that no one ventured near anymore, a power plant that littered the coast. He ducked out to the sands kicking up a storm behind him; he could hear them laughing as they followed him. They were playing with him letting him think he was getting away. "Jack, Jack, Jack. Where you gonna go buddy nothing but sea and sand." The first one yelled. The cliff face sprang from nowhere dark and looming ahead of them. He began to panic as he saw that there was nowhere aro