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Chapter 3: It's Really You

Los Angeles
Wesley’s Office, Wolfram & Hart


Wesley sat in his seat behind his desk, while Fred sat near him, perched on the edge of the desk. Both were deeply engrossed as the two stared at the scroll laid out before them on the desk. Several books were scattered over the top of its surface, each book was open to various places to help them translate the scroll before them.

Empty, discarded take-out Chinese boxes took up the remaining empty spaces. Wesley looked at the text again. Just when he thought he was on the right track, he’d be brought to a halt by another translation in a different book. So far, they had only been able to get two lines translated and they’d been working on it since yesterday.


ZBS ZSHH HOSJA KLT LAK   (Spawned from darkness and evil)
AHGASHT AHKSHGK THASJ AHDS   (Yet, but for love willingly chose)
ATELLV SLPPRS LCMNPWN SLSJNPA
LSLWPW DLMCX XCCOWS

DSLDL EIMOSPW DHSLS SSLSWOWY
DMCLS SLSLWPW SLSOWPQ SLNCWP
SCSKS IWOECOPS SLSNSAP SAANSLLOS
DLMCX XCCOWS SLSANL SLNCOC

SOCMD DJDIEMDK SKSOWRUR SJXMIE
CMQOW QOSXZ AOLCKCH ALNCLS
CPAMA ALOCEKS XLCOWZ ALCOA
COAANLL ALCOALA ACOQNAE ACOAKAB


“Hmmmm…” Fred grabbed another book and flipped to a page marked with a scrap piece of paper. (Couldn’t dog-tag these pages, Wes would have a fit!) “This may help us with the next part… Yes, that’s it!”

“To give up the demon inside…For which a soul now grows… It looks like this is the translation for the next two lines. Wow… Wes, this sounds like Angel.”

The person they were talking about chose that moment to knock on Wesley’s office door.

“How’s it coming, guys?” Angel asked.

“I think we’re finally starting to make some headway. It looks like we have the first part translated.”

“We’ll know better how it relates once we get the whole thing transcribed, but the first part says ‘Spawned from darkness and evil, Yet, but for love willingly chose, To give up the demon inside, For which a soul now grows,” Wesley replied.

“Well, keep at it, guys,” Angel said. “And, let me know when you have it finished. I’ve got feelers out with other departments to see if we need to be worried about anything that might be coming.”

“Right. We’ll let you know what we come up with.”

Fred and Wesley once again bent over the scroll on his desk and got back to work.

~*~*~*~*~

Rome
Buffy’s Residence


Spike walked though the entryway taking in his surroundings, Buffy cradled gently in his arms. Bypassing the main hallway, which appeared to lead to various living rooms, studies and such, he quickly ascended the stairs in an attempt to seek out Buffy’s bedroom. At the end of the second floor he noticed a door ajar. Pushing the door all the way open with his foot, he realized that this was Buffy’s room. Not because of any personal effects, the room actually looked quite barren. Rather, he just sensed that this was her room - her scent being more concentrated here.

Spike laid Buffy gently on her bed, and then sat down next to her looking at her face. With hands that shook, he smoothed the hair back off her face.

“Luv, wake up,” Spike whispered, his eyes starting to tear.

Buffy looked like hell. Her skin was pale, and she looked like she'd lost weight that she had no business losing. Dark circles prevailed under her eyes.

‘She looks like the walking dead.’

He got off the bed to shut and lock the bedroom door. Next, he walked over to the drapes (nice, thick drapes, he noticed) and pulled them shut, sealing out any possible sunlight that may filter through come morning. Spike made his way back to the bed and pulled the covers down on one side before carefully removing Buffy’s clothes and sliding her beneath the covers. He then stripped off his own clothes and laid them over a chair before slipping into the bed beside her, resettling the covers around himself. Slipping his arms around her, he gently pulled her back into his embrace. Idly, he ran his hands lightly down her face, whispering words of love she undoubtedly couldn’t hear. Spike held her like that for what seemed like hours before he too finally succumbed to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~

Los Angeles
Angel’s Office, Wolfram & Hart


Angel was seated behind his desk talking to Lorne and Gunn when Fred and Wesley hurried into his office.

“Whatcha got, Wes?” Angel asked.

“I’m not sure what it means, but we’ve managed to finally get it transcribed. It took awhile because it wasn’t written in one distinct language. Rather, a blending of languages, if you will.”

“What does it say?”

“I’m not one hundred percent positive. Like I said, blending languages and all, but this is what I’ve...we've... come up with,” Wesley replied, then he began to read the transcribed scroll in its entirety.


Spawned from darkness and evil
Yet, but for love willingly chose
To give up the demon inside
For which a soul now grows

As the one grows weak
And begins to decay
A kiss, mixed with blood
To keep death at bay

A price will be paid
To save the one’s life
Forever immortal
No longer among light




“What does it mean?” Angel asked.

“I have no idea,” Wesley replied.

~*~*~*~*~

Rome
Buffy’s room, the following morning


Buffy lay in bed, not completely asleep, not quite awake. She felt rested for the first time in well... a long time. She realized something was different but couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. Slowly, things started coming back to her. As the haze of sleepiness finally wore off, she bolted upright in bed.

Several things went through her mind at once: 1) no heart wrenching dream last night, 2) no crying myself awake, 3) Spike is alive! Turning, she looked into the piercing blue, although uncertain, eyes of her blond vampire.

Spike had awaken instantly when the slayer woke suddenly – game face on – ready to protect Buffy with his life if need be. Seeing no one else in the room, the ridges above his eyes quickly faded, and eyes went from yellow to blue in a flash. He looked at Buffy trying to judge her mood.

Buffy reached out a tentative hand, trying to determine if the vision before her eyes was real or just a hallucination. Her fingers shook as they made contact with his sculpted cheekbones.

“Spiii…iike?” she stuttered softly.

“Yes, luv.”

Slowly, she dropped her hand from his face. Her face crumpled, and she began to sob uncontrollably.

“Awww, luv, don’t cry,” he whispered as he scooped her up in his arms and cradled her close to his body.

In between sobs that racked her body, Buffy got out little phrases like: “…so hard after you were gone…wanted to be with you…missed you so much…wanted to die so I could be with you…”

Spike just held her while she poured out her grief, mumbling incoherent assurances, comforting her as best he could. After a time, her crying subsided and Spike quietly rocked her, holding her as tightly as he dared. ‘God, it feels good to have her back in my arms,’ he thought.

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