RATING: Probably PG, if only for some "deep" scenes
CONTENT: Angsting. That's pretty much all I do, for now anyway.
SPOILERS: Minor refs to earlier episodes and past incidents, it's a Post-Becoming tho, so it picks up from there.
SUMMARY: What happened to the gang after that fateful night
DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I’m not making any money, so there’s no reason to sue or anything. Song lyrics are in italics and belong to either the fabulous ‘80’s gal Cyndi Lauper or the late great Harry Chapin. If you wanna know which is whose, just email me. Or get the CD’s. The Lauper songs are from “Hat Full of Stars,” the Chapin songs are either from “Portrait Gallery” or “On the Road to Kingdom Come.” It’s my first fanfic, so feedback is more than welcome, in fact, it’s downright required!!
"Well," Xander turned to face Giles, shrugging helplessly, "I guess everything worked?"
"It would certainly seem that way..." Giles trailed off, surveying the lifeless room and now dormant Acathla with weary eyes.
The two men left silently, bound for their friends, and the hospital.
"When love gets strong people get weak, sometimes they lose control and wind up in too deep..."
* * *
Buffy walked slowly along the sidewalk, glancing briefly at the faces passing her by, more than once wishing she could be someone other than herself. Tears falling slowly from her slightly dirty face, she continued to the small, but nice motel on the corner with its quaint, swinging "Vacancy" sign. Thankfully her entire allowance hadn't been spent on clothes, and the meager fortune she had stashed away was plenty to cover a room for the next nights...however many that ended up being.
"I had a fool's confidence that the world had no boundaries, but instincts and common sense come in different quantities..."
* * *
After Giles and Xander left, the main room of the airy, spacious house was once again still. The statue that was Acathla slowly began to crumble, its strength apparently gone with its demonic host. Amidst the rubble of the ruined art, a figure stirred, rising slowly from literal and proverbial ashes. This Phoenix of sorts quickly shied away from the first rays of light shining through the high windows, and ducked into the shadows once more, determined to right his wrongs...
"You gave me that first sweet taste of the heaven here in this hell..."
* * *
Back in school, the Slayerettes gathered in the library. Though they sat silent, their glances spoke volumes as each tried to make sense of what had happened. It was only by discreetly listening in to a phone call to Snyder that they discovered that Buffy had been expelled. Willow had called Buffy's mom earlier, learning of their fight and Buffy's note. Finally Cordelia spoke up, breaking the cold silence with her usual bluntness.
"So like, Buffy's still alive, right? I mean, if she left her mom a note and all...but she's gotta be seriously messed now, huh?"
Giles gave her one of his looks, refusing to comment. Willow managed a disgusted look, but her sad sigh said that anger wasn't her only emotion. Oz rubbed her shoulders gently, casting a puzzled glance in Cordelia's direction. He apparently wasn't used to the May Queen's idea of tact yet. Xander shook his head slowly, managing a weak 'probably' to his unlikely girlfriend.
Finally Giles stood and addressed the Slayerettes, once again cleaning off his glasses. "We can't just sit here...Xander, you and Cordelia need to get to class, correct?" The two nodded and left the room quickly, happy to have some sort of plan, however despisable.
Willow turned to face the Watcher, < Slayer-less Watcher, now...but we can't think that... > "And I've got a missing girl to find." The hacker settled herself at her computer, fingers flying, her mind finding some ease in the familiar task. Oz glanced briefly at Giles, who granted him a nod, and sat beside Willow to offer his support.
Sunnydale High's librarian wandered into his office to make himself a much-needed cup of tea and consult his books for anything useful to him and his distraught companions. He was determined to find his Slayer; it could be considered failing her if she was allowed to be alone and unaided for any length of time...
"I'm trying to live in the present but I keep tripping on the past, finding out reality, well, clarity comes in dribs and drabs..."
* * *
As Buffy read through the classifieds in the paper she had picked up at the bus stop, she soon realized that life as a Slayer hadn't prepared her for anything but her chosen duties. < Obviously it's not going to be as simple as 'Can I work here?' 'Sure.' But I'd like some sort of luck here, I mean...what's the going rate for saving the world these days? > She sighed resignedly and lay back carefully on the old bed, grateful for the comfort it gave her after all she'd been through. < Funny how even a ratty old motel can seem so wonderful after facing....Okay, nevermind. Let's not think of that and stumble into a pit of despair, 'kay Buf? Can we do that? >
Buffy reached for the remote to the tiny TV in the corner and switched on MTV, finding a sort of warmth in its mindless chatter and noise. She reached her arm out blindly, trying to connect with the newspaper. Buffy felt paper under her fingers and grabbed, pulling the somehow too small piece in front of her face. A note she hadn't known was there had fallen out of the paper. Squinting against the flickering of the TV, she struggled to read the words scrawled on the scrap of paper.
Hey Kid,
Don't give up yet, you may not be as alone as you thought.
Buffy's heart jumped at the words, then sank a bit more at the recognition of the author. Whistler hadn't proved especially useful; she doubted she could trust him now. And even if all was right with the world, Buffy wasn't quite ready to face things yet...
"Telling myself that everyone falls, take the first step that's the trick of it all: bounce back like a ball..."
* * *
The sun had finally set that same day, and a figure was emerging from the old house that had seen so much so suddenly. Joyce Summers saw this instantly, and shifted into a defensive stance she wasn't aware she knew. The person stumbled closer, and Joyce's eyes widened in disbelief and in fear. Then her shock let go of her, and anger swept over her in waves as she struggled to resist the urge to attack this person who had made her daughter's life such a hell. Covered in dust, blood pouring from an unseen wound, Angel staggered towards Joyce, pain, sadness and remorse in his dark eyes. Joyce watched motionless as Angel dropped to his knees in front of her and collapsed at her feet. She let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding and watched the young man slowly bleed for a moment before running to her car to grab her cell phone. < Well, I hope that Mr. Giles knows what to do...he doesn't seem to be that big a threat anymore, but I'm certainly not going to deal with this on my own. > As Joyce's shaking fingers began to dial the much used number for the high school's office, the weary mother had another thought...and began to carefully drag Angel into her car. Shaking her head at the foolishness of her idea, she climbed in and drove to her house, praying silently that whatever had happened last night had changed this young man back into whoever Buffy had fallen in love with.
"First time that I saw your face you looked so lost and kind...should have recognized that troubled look from the road I left behind..."
* * *
Giles emerged from his office with his tea to find all four remaining Slayerettes gathered around the computer. He hurried over to see what had grasped their attention so fully and stared in confusion at the words Willow had pulled up on the screen.
"That cannot be English," the Watcher spoke suddenly, causing everyone to jump. Willow giggled softly, amused despite the sad air filling the library. Xander spun and laid a hand on Giles' shoulder, leading him to his more familiar books. With a grateful nod to Xander, the older man returned to his own research.
The teens once again huddled around the monitor, watching as Willow's deft fingers pulled up records considered private and inaccessible by ignorant adults. On a hunch, she opened up a connection with a chain of hotels spanning Los Angeles, San Jose, San Francisco, and numerous other cities along the coast. The Pacific House hotels were moderately priced and private, something that could appeal to a Slayer on the run, and the fact that one had been mentioned in a past "Anywhere But Here" only helped Willow make the connection. Scrolling through the list of possible locations, a window popped up, notifying the hacker that the makeshift program to locate any "Buffy *" checking into a hotel in the current window had found something. Excited by the possibility, Willow quickly scanned through the list of names, allowing herself a brief chuckle at the number of Buffys currently staying on this popular coast.. Her hopes soared as she frantically clicked on the one "Buffy Summers" in the list, mentally crossing her fingers and toes. The others around her hadn't missed her excitement, but with Willow moving so quickly with her computer, they were desperate to catch up, and were thankful for the pause the computer gave them while it searched for the record. They just about gasped in unison upon seeing the record Willow was currently pulling up, and each copied Willow's earlier gesture of crossing all available digits. Giles noticed their sudden change in mood, and joined the teens around the computer...
"You're too young to be running, too old to be lying, too wise not to see all the reasons..."
* * *
The tired Slayer sat down to eat her sandwich in relative peace, accompanied only by the still chattering television. More than grateful for the low cost of the hotel and its room service, she savored her meal, not for the first time wishing she had someone to talk to. < Angel's gone. And it's my fault. > Buffy's hands shook at that realization, but she swallowed the tears and continued eating her sandwich, now oblivious to its taste.
< I can't stay here...that much I know...but where do I go now? After everything that's happened, can I face Sunnydale again? I can't help thinking everyone would be better off without me, but I know that's a lie; none of them could survive on their own on the Hellmouth. Despite everything, I did do some good... I can't leave them all alone. They've convinced themselves that they need me; who am I to say that they're wrong when I've been wrong so much myself? When it all comes down to it, I don't have much of a choice. For them, I've got to go back... >
Buffy finished her sandwich, startled that her decision was so soon in coming. Certainly the healing process had already begun, only she didn't realize it. The young Slayer sat in her hotel room, oblivious to the TV, searching herself for the answers to questions she would soon face...
“The world has come a calling and it’s bleeding at my door. Am I supposed to turn away or is this what I’m here for?”
* * *
Inside Buffy's house, Joyce once again found herself in the company of a vampire. Or at least she thought. She wasn't so sure now. This young man now lying on her carpet, the bleeding since stopped, seemed so different just a year ago. Then, his skin was colder, his eyes a little darker (when they were open), and she was certain he hadn't been breathing before, though she never said anything at the time. This creature sprawled over her living room floor was nothing like that; his skin was warm, his eyes were filled with a more human emotion than she thought vampires were capable of, and he was most sincerely breathing. And then there was the matter of the sunlight now streaming across his face, which didn't seem to be hurting him. She had never seen him < Angel, he has a name, even if he is still a monster > in the daylight before, only showing up to see Buffy once the sun had set.
< Is it possible...? > Joyce reached her hand out to gently touch his face, drawing it back sharply when Angel sat up in shock.
His head spun; he felt more dizzy than he could ever remember. This was when he noticed the blood soaked into his shirt, the silk plastered to the not-too-quickly closing wound on his chest. With a slightly puzzled look, Angel climbed to his feet, steadying himself on the Summers' couch. *This* was when he noticed the brightness of the room, and the absence of any glowing lamps. With a terrified gasp, he turned to the sunny window, and slowly gained comprehension of all that had happened to him.
Mrs. Summers sat silently, watching all this with interest, and more than a trace of amusement. She shifted her position on the couch, subtly drawing attention to herself, not wanting to test her theory of Angel's humanity. She watched as he spun quickly to stare at her, first confused, then with recognition. He immediately dropped his gaze, and hung his head in obvious shame. Joyce sighed, feeling compassion even when she knew she shouldn't; this young man's pain was more than any she could have felt.
She watched him for a moment longer, and finally spoke. "Now, last I heard, you were supposed to be dead...at least in one way. Anyway, you should be able to tell me what's going on, right? Why my little girl wanted to kill you? Why she left...?" Joyce trailed off, becoming more confused and more emotional through her questioning. She shook her head quickly, wiping her eyes, trying to be strong < like Buffy...like Buffy's strong... > "Why that...that..." She shook her head again, clearly puzzled and...amused? "That...Billy Idol person wanted to kill you?"
Angel sat listening quietly through Joyce's questions, his jaw nearly dropping at this last one. He struggled to stand, giving up finally when the room began spinning crazily. < I've never been this dizzy before in my life...my life... > With another amazed glance at the sun pouring through the windows, Angel took a deep breath < a breath?? What *is* going on? > and turned to fully face Joyce.
"Mrs. Summers...you remember when Buffy went to that dance...their Spring Fling...?" He waited for Joyce to nod before continuing. "That night..." Angel told their story as best as he could, reliving Buffy's bravery with the master, facing Spike with Kendra, their night together, Ms. Calendar's death, and finally, the events that had brought him here. His voice broke as he told Joyce how her "little girl" had plunged a sword into his chest, killing her boyfriend as she knew him and, once again, saving the world. Joyce's eyes widened in amazement as Angel told his tale, her heart swelling with pride for her misfit daughter, the world's protector.
"So Buffy was telling the truth...? I mean, I believed her, but...it was so hard to believe....a Slayer...but...she's so little..."
"She was telling you the truth, Mrs. Summers. I think we should go see Giles...eh... Mr. Giles. He can tell you these same things...and more, about how Buffy dealt with everything...But can I ask...how did you know where to go...to find me ?"
Joyce smiled, a bit cryptically, and gave a small shrug. "Mothers know these things, dear."
Angel shook his head, smiling at the woman's knowing eyes. He then winced, clutching his hand to his chest. "Do you happen to have a bandage, or something...?"
Joyce leapt to her feet, "Oh, of course!" She rushed off to the bathroom, marveling at the man her daughter had loved Angel watched Buffy's mother dizzily as she assumed the role of mom with him, sharing her thoughts of Buffy. < After all that I did to her...it's no wonder she ran away. But she'll come back...she has to. >
Joyce had removed Angel's shirt to cover his wound, closing with renewed speed, and handed him an old shirt that had belonged to Buffy's father. She paused on her way out the door to glance appreciatively at the young man, marveling at how grown-up her daughter had become, Slayer or not.
"I have watched you take shape from a jumble of parts, and find the grace and form of a fine work of art..."
* * *
The library was a bustle of activity usually characteristic of vampire attacks and witch's spells. The Slayerettes were now gathered in a large circle around Willow and her computer, trying to come up with a plan to get their Slayer back. Willow thought the best way would be to call her, and appeal to her as friends, leaving out anything related to demons and darkness. Oz agreed, of course, adding that Buffy was probably just confused. Xander and Cordelia voiced similar opinions, and they began arguing over who would make the call.
“How about I call her, seeing as I’m one of the main reasons she left?” A teary eyed Joyce Summers stood in the doorway to the library, her companion not yet visible to the crowd already gathered there. She took a few steps in, and found herself met by a wheelchair bound Willow. Xander patted her shoulder gently, though awkwardly, and they turned to face a more than slightly horrified Giles, who was staring in the direction of the door. Cordelia was now looking in the same direction, as was an angering Oz. Willow and Xander looked up at the same moment with very different expressions; Willow’s face was thoughtful, Xander’s was pure rage.
“You...drove...her...away...You probably killed her!” Xander started towards the quiet Angel, who hadn’t moved since stepping just inside the library. Willow put a hand out in front of Xander, and the boy found himself stopped more from the gesture than the force.
Quietly, Willow spoke. “Xander, look around. Sunny much? And didn’t I tell you...it worked...that’s not Angelus.”
Angel stared at Willow, first in shock, then with a warming appreciation and admiration. < Leave it to Willow to notice first...and...it worked? I should have known she would try it...but Dru said she stopped something...so she did it...after the attack...? >
Xander, meanwhile, was barely contained, struggling to decide if he should be mad at the vampire < It is sunny in here....oh God, is he not a vampire...? That’s impossible...oh. Wait. Hellmouth. Strike that last one... > He settled on slack-jawed amazement.
Oz had moved behind Willow’s chair, placing a protective, possessive hand on her shoulder. He didn’t know enough to trust or not trust the man they had all been tortured by, so he wasn’t taking any chances with his Will. < My Will? Yeah...my Willow... I kinda like that...But, yeah. Back to the non-vamp. That’s pretty neat... >
Cordelia moved behind her unlikely love, holding his arm tightly. Despite how she felt about Xander, she was more willing to side with Willow, simply because the girl was smart, and she didn’t have a history with the vamp. < Vamp...not a vamp. Wow. Buffy can’t know about *this* or she never would have run. He looks kinda hot in the sunlight...woah. Bad thoughts. Back to Xander. >
Giles just stared. Part of him was furious, terrified; he wanted to run, from him and at him. But another part could only see the look on his face: remorse, sadness, loneliness, and pain, physical and emotional. The compassionate side won out, and he strode quickly to Angel, eyeing the blood soaking the borrowed shirt he wore.
Angel flinched imperceptibly, and took a step back, afraid of what Giles had in store. But when the Watcher took his arm, ever so gently, and led him to one of the library’s more comfortable chairs, he relaxed a bit.
“I put a bandage on him. Cleaned it out. The whole deal. It had already started to heal once I got him in the house. My guess is, it’s almost closed, though that should have killed him. That’s probably left over from his being a vampire, right?” Joyce said this casually, her efficient manner masking the confusion she still felt, the lingering disbelief despite all she had seen.
As Giles and Joyce set to work on re-bandaging Angel, the group combined their knowledge of what went on to create a full picture of the previous night. The silence that followed was filled with emotions as everyone relived what he had been through, and what he thought Buffy could be going through. Angel was the quietest of them all, revisiting his most painful moments with his love, worrying about her, where she could be...
“Her world is such a sudden place, a minute flashed before my face. To fly, to feel, to fall from grace...”
* * *
Buffy sighed, gathering her things once again. Amusedly, she realized she was wishing for her old life. < Vampires, prophecies, tests. At least I didn’t have to keep packing. It’s a fact of nature that you leave with more stuff than you came with, isn’t it? > Buffy was absolutely puzzled at how she could have ended up with more to stuff into her bag, seeing as she never got any shopping done. < Siiiiiiigh. Cordelia will never forgive me. > With a soft, almost happy laugh, Buffy left her hotel room and checked out.
“She collects all her things while she’s still of a mind, so soft it’s like breathing she leaves...”
* * *
The blip of Willow’s computer drew them all back to the makeshift workstation. Xander began to explain what it meant when he stopped, “...so when she checks in or out of a hotel it...tells....wait, Will, didn’t she already check *in*??” Willow turned to her friend and nodded sadly.
“But...see....when she checks in to some other place we’ll be able to catch her again!! I mean...how far can she go in a day...” The young hacker trailed off, realizing they were now stuck again until the Slayer found a new place.
“How can we all just be sitting here?? My little girl is out there all by herself!!!” Cordelia placed a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder, guiding her to a chair next to Angel’s.
“Mrs. Summers, all we can do is wait until she checks into another place. Then Will’s got her and we can go find her. But we can’t very well go storming out to find her when she’s left for God knows where.” Xander smiled proudly at his girlfriend’s comforting logic, moving to stand next to her as she perched on the arm of Joyce’s chair.
Oz pulled a chair alongside Willow’s wheelchair, and Giles dragged the straight-backed rolling chair from his office. Once again, the gang gathered, plus a few members, and began to tell stories of their own and their Slayer’s adventures. Joyce listened with widening eyes at what her daughter had been through as the Slayerettes filled in gaps in Angel’s tale with stories he hadn’t been part of.
“When I rearrange the pieces of the puzzle of my past, I sigh at the heartaches, relive the laughs. And think about the moments that have left their mark, and the too few faces that shine a little light in the dark...”
* * *
Buffy stepped off the bus at the Sunnydale Bus Depot, recalling the last few times she had been there. It was just the same time of night they had gone to pick up the exchange student that ended up nearly killing Xander. For the first time in a long while, Buffy chuckled, a soft, musical noise that threw a bit of the happiness she was beginning to feel into the twilight. She started to walk to her house and stopped, recalling the last words her mother had said to her. With a sigh that threatened to ruin her lightening mood, she headed towards her other home, the library. < They’ll be there...they have to be. They’re always there! >
A few minutes later, walking briskly, Buffy came upon the high school. Lights were barely visible through the shaded windows of the library. Tugging open the front door, Buffy shifted her bag to the other shoulder and walked slowly, silently down the dark halls.
As she neared her destination, she began to hear soft voices chatting with each other. Despite the familiar tones, there was an air of worry, a tension hanging about. She soon reached the library doors, and she rested her hand against one, not pushing yet, simply holding it there, feeling the simple comfort it brought to be so much closer to her friends. Taking a deep breath, Buffy pushed on the door, letting it swing open, into the room...
“Once again be the friend that you’ve been, and take me in...”
* * *
Everyone looked up as the door swung open, tensing slightly in anticipation and more than a little bit of hope. As Buffy entered the library tentatively, the small group gathered there glanced at each other as if asking who should greet the Slayer first. Joyce ran up to her daughter, catching her in a huge hug. Xander and Giles followed, with a shy Cordelia hanging back, grabbing Buffy’s hand and giving it a quick squeeze. Buffy felt herself starting to cry as she joined in the group hug, laughing and sniffling as everyone else was beginning to do. But she noticed the hug was minus a few pair of arms, and stepped back. She glanced behind the mob surrounding her, and saw Willow, in her wheelchair, Oz at her side. She then noticed that Willow had her head tilted strangely, as if she were pointing to something. Buffy followed the nod, and felt herself stagger, her knees buckling. Giles was at her side instantly, seeing her gaze, and he helped her forward through the small crowd.
As Buffy walked unsteadily towards the overstuffed chair, its occupant rose with similar shakiness. Her face was a confused mix of emotions, sadness and joy, remorse and lingering doubt. His face showed only guilt, the only thing he believed himself worthy of actually feeling. She started almost running to him, but stopped a foot or so away. Angel’s worst fears were confirmed at this moment, and he stood to leave again, this time forever.
Her voice breaking, Buffy spoke, reaching her hand out to him. “Angel, wait.”
His head came up a fraction of an inch, lifting his eyes to look at her. “Buffy, I...”
“I’m so sorry.” They both spoke at once, and then looked into each other’s eyes. The library was silent as the two watched each other, realizing the acceptance waiting for them. With a tearful smile, Buffy took the last few steps to Angel and threw her arms around him. With only a moment’s hesitation, Angel returned Buffy’s hug, pulling her painfully close.
“Just don’t tell me to close my eyes, alright?” Angel whispered softly in Buffy’s ear. She let out a soft, sad gasp, and realized that he was joking, forgiving her for what she had done.
“As long as you don’t bite me, sweetie. Not in front of them, anyway.” Buffy laughed softly in Angel’s ear, getting a warm, breathy chuckle from him. Content to stay that way for the rest of time, Buffy simply closed her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder. Both were unaware of her mother and her friends as they resumed their places, keeping a comfortable distance from the two lovebirds. And it was only after being pressed so close for a few minutes that Buffy finally realized she was being lulled into contentment by Angel’s heartbeat.
She pulled away from him suddenly, confusion showing in her eyes. Angel placed a warm hand on the side of her face and pulled her in for a kiss before leading her back to her friends. As they took seats opposite each other, Buffy by her mother and Angel again by Willow, they all worked to fill each other in on what had happened. Finally everyone was chuckling at Buffy’s not so lengthy stay in Monterey and Xander’s impression of the San Fran native bus driver she had, complete with overly stereotyped accent and hand gestures.
While they all sat around laughing and chatting, Buffy’s mom included, Buffy and Angel moved closer to each other, eventually ending up in two wooden library chairs pushed together to make one seat. They both knew things would certainly change with Angel’s mortality, for their relationship, and with Buffy’s slaying. Giles had already agreed to supervise training sessions to keep the both of them in shape, and discussed with Angel his plans to find him a job at the community college, giving him a cover and a way to occupy his time while Buffy was at school. Which was another of his tasks, to see to it that Buffy was absolved of her alleged crimes and reinstated as a senior at Sunnydale High.
Things would change, but most likely for the better. Buffy learned that she could never be without hope, as did Angel. The next few days and nights were spent with the two walking together, sharing life and each other. Buffy picked up on slaying, but things were fortunately rather light, giving them all a break from prophecies and responsibilities, to enjoy the summer as kids. Something they all were now.
“Never has life been so full of the urge to let go of the night and believe.”
End