Banner by Vampkiss
Banner
by Vampkiss
Chapter 65
Marcus saw the direction his sire was taking and galvanized the others into action.
It was time.
He sent Clayton back to the warehouse to retrieve the two vials they’d procured for the Slayer. Joseph and Byron he had take Angel home; Spike had spared the vampire’s life, so it wouldn’t do to leave him bloodied and barely conscious in the cemetery where anyone could happen along and take advantage of his weakened condition. Esme and Derrick saw to the second Slayer, taking her lifeless body to Buffy’s watcher where he could deal with the ramifications of her unexpected death, and help lay the groundwork for Buffy’s disappearance.
“I’ll get Joyce,” Angelina told her mate, laying a hand on his arm. “I’m sure she’ll want to be there.”
Marcus nodded and watched until she’d disappeared from sight. Then he set off after Spike and Buffy, quickly catching up to Alric as the vamp saw to the couple’s protection. While Alric kept an eye out for anything that might pose a problem, Marcus pulled the secure phone from his pocket and started coordinating their departure from Sunnydale with Adam.
“Clayton is on his way to you for the vials,” Marcus told the blond once he’d answered the phone. “Dru took out the other Slayer, and it looks like Spike’s upped the timetable for Buffy. Call Steve and have them get the jet ready for Renee and Jocelyn.”
“Alright. Marcus, what the hell happened?”
“I haven’t got all the details yet, but when I do, I’ll call you back.”
~*~*~*~*~
Buffy could feel his anguish, though he tried valiantly to hide it behind an inscrutable mask as he carried her away from the cemetery. “I’m sorry, Spike.”
“It’s alright, luv,” he told her, eyes trained straight ahead.
“No it’s not. She was your sire and you…” She couldn’t say the words. What he’d done was nearly unheard of. Dusting one’s sire?
“Dusted her,” he finished for her. “Buffy, I…”
Spike looked down at the Slayer then, his eyes unusually moist. When he’d seen Drusilla standing above Buffy…
And Buffy, his beautiful, stupid wife, unwilling to defend herself against the crazed vampiress – when she could have done so quite easily.
In that split second before he reacted, Spike’s emotions had run the gamut – shock, outrage, fear. Anger unlike anything he’d ever felt before consumed him – that his sire, much like his grandsire, hadn’t respected his mark upon the Slayer’s neck. But, it had been fear on Buffy’s behalf that had him hurtling himself at Drusilla, knocking her away from the Slayer.
Spike’s arms tightened about Buffy and he hugged her tight against his chest, holding her like that until he’d nearly reached the hospital. He ducked into a darkened alley, Marcus hot on his heels; Alric stopped at the entrance and stood guard.
“Clayton should be here momentarily with the vials,” Marcus told his sire, his voice barely above a whisper.
Spike nodded and set the Slayer on her feet.
The thought of injecting the two drugs into the Slayer’s system didn’t sit well with the vampire. Especially given the lethal doses of both. But, Giles had insisted that the easiest way to give credence to Buffy’s death was to have her declared legally dead by hospital personnel. And the drugs wouldn’t kill her. The rational part of him whispered that the only way the Slayer could die was if he dusted, but there was that other part… especially when he’d been told how they’d would work on her system. How they’d fool the human doctors into thinking she’d died.
A soft whistle sounded from Alric and the three turned to see Clayton striding into the alley. The vampire held out the vials to his sire, but Spike just stared at them.
“Do you want me to do it?” Clayton asked of his sire.
And still Spike’s gaze remained transfixed.
‘They won’t kill her,’ he reminded himself, albeit unsuccessfully.
The thought of having her heart stop… her breathing as well… if only for just a little while, was enough to send him into a panic.
“It’s alright, Spike. Can’t die… remember?” Buffy rubbed her thumb over the ridges that had yet to disappear, trying to soothe him as best she could. “Clayton…”
Clayton took that has his cue, and he pulled the first medicine into the syringe. Though he’d told his sire he’d do it, his hands still shook when he lowered the needle to her arm.
“It’s alright, Clayton,” she tried to reassure him. “Just do it.”
“You’re gonna feel a pinch, and you’re gonna get dizzy, almost immediately. Marcus… be ready.” He turned to his sire. “Maybe you should go inside…”
Spike seemed to come out of his daze at being addressed.
“It’s alright, sire,” Marcus told him. “I’ll bring her in just as soon as she…”
“Yeah… alright.”
Maybe it would be better for him not to be there. Though they were his childer, and were following his instructions, they were still attacking what was his, and he didn’t think his demon would actually stand by and watch it happen without retaliating.
“I’ll be fine, Spike,” Buffy assured him.
Spike pulled the Slayer close and devoured her mouth. She was just getting into the swing of things when he abruptly pulled away and stalked off…out of the alley and towards one of the rear exits where he slipped inside the hospital undetected.
“Ok. Let’s get this done,” she told the two.
~*~*~*~*~
“Somebody help me!” Marcus shouted as he burst into the Emergency Room. In his arms was the Slayer, a gaping wound in her neck. Even knowing that she couldn’t die, that she was tied to his sire, the emotion that he exhibited as he yelled for help was real. Her suppressed heart beat and seeming lack of breath were enough to make him want to actually get someone to fix her. To “bring her back to life.”
She was stripped from his hands and hustled out of the waiting room and Marcus forced himself not to growl. He made to follow but was stopped by a nurse with a hand to his chest.
“You can’t go in there.”
“But—”
“I’m sorry. You can’t go in there.”
Then the nurse slipped through the double doors, leaving Marcus listening to the whistles and bells of the machines the medical staff used to try and resuscitate the Slayer.
“Sir? Sir?”
Marcus turned away from the door and looked down at the nurse. Confusion marred his features.
“I’m Mrs. Henderson, the admissions nurse. Can you… can you answer some questions for me?”
“Yeah…yeah, sure. Not sure how much help I’ll be though.”
The nurse led him to a semi-private area and sat down at her computer.
“Why’s that?” she asked.
“I… I just found her. Outside. I was walking by and something in the bushes caught my attention. I walked over and found her just lying there.”
“So, you don’t know the victim?”
“No.”
“Oh… well, ok then.”
“I did manage to get this though.” He held up a change purse. “Just shoved it in my pocket when I picked her up. Didn’t look through it to see if there was anything identifying inside…”
Marcus handed the nurse Buffy’s tiny wallet and watched as she opened it and retrieved the Slayer’s school identification.
“Buffy Summers,” she murmured. She turned to her computer and punched in the name. “Oh, good… she’s been here before.”
“So, you can call her family?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Is she going to be ok?” he asked.
“I’m sorry. I can’t discuss…”
“Right… of course. I just… you know.” He shrugged his shoulders and offered her a slight smile.
“Yes, I do. It was a brave thing you did, bringing her in. Now… if you’ll excuse me, I need to make some calls…”
Marcus nodded at the woman and stood. He wended his way through the rows of chairs in the waiting room and walked out through the double doors, quickly disappearing into the night. There was much to be done, and not a lot of time in which to do it. Adam was going to need help seeing to the details, and Spike and the others would keep things well in hand.
Plus, he didn’t trust his sire not to take a chunk out of his hide once he got a good look at the Slayer’s neck.
~*~*~*~*~
Joyce was waiting for the call when it came. But even so, she still jumped when the phone rang.
Beside her, Angelina took her hand, attempting to comfort the Slayer’s mother.
“Remember… she’s tied to Spike,” Angelina told Joyce once she’d hung up the phone. “Whatever you see, whatever you hear…”
“I know.” Joyce swiped hastily at the tears already running down her cheeks. “It’s just…I thought I had some time yet.”
Joyce was properly frantic when the nurse told her about what had happened to Buffy, made worse when the woman wouldn’t give her any indication as to her daughter’s condition. With reassurances that she was on the way, Joyce quickly hung up the phone and turned to the redhead standing next to her.
“Come on… we’d better get to the hospital,” Angelina told her. “Are you okay to drive?”
“Yes…”
Joyce took a deep, calming breath and grabbed her purse and keys off the kitchen counter. Together, she and Angelina arrived at the hospital in record time.
“Are you not coming in?” Joyce asked when the vampiress just stood there outside the Jeep.
Angelina shook her head. “No. After…after you see Buffy… Giles will come. He’ll know what to do.”
“You’re leaving, aren’t you? Once…”
“Yes.” Angelina walked up to the woman and laid a reassuring hand on the woman’s shoulder. She liked Joyce, and didn’t want to see her in any pain if she could help it. “Don’t worry. You’ve not seen the last of us.”
“Promise?” Joyce’s voice shook when she asked the question.
“I promise.” Seeing that she wasn’t convinced, the vampiress elaborated. “Maybe, after Buffy’s funeral, you’ll want to take a vacation. Maybe that handsome watcher might ask you to come along. He has to give his final report to the Council, and just might wish to settle in England. He’ll show you the sights… and you’ll come to appreciate the art…its history. A chance meeting with a wealthy benefactor… who knows the possibilities…”
Joyce stared at Angelina, tears in her eyes. She nodded, indicating she understood.
“Good. Now, I must go.”
“Goodbye… Angelina. Tell Buffy… tell her I love her.”
“I will. Now, hurry.”
Joyce nodded again and hurried towards the Emergency Room doors.
“Oh… and Joyce?” Angelina called out. When the other woman stopped and turned around, the vampiress called out. “Giles? He’s not a bad guy… for a human.”
Joyce found her first smile.
“No…no, he isn’t.”
~*~*~*~*~
“Call it.”
“Time of death, 8:43 p.m.”
A nurse reached over and shut off the monitors, and the steady drone that announced the Slayer’s unbeating heart was silenced. The staff took a moment, each looking down at the girl that appeared to have been attacked by a wild dog and had her neck torn out, her pale, lifeless body mocking their frenzied attempts to resuscitate her. Each offered up a quick prayer for the girl, then, like the hardened medical personnel they were, one of them stoically covered the body with a white sheet and they all filed out of the room.
It was a full moon, and accidents in Sunnydale seemed to abound more so on this night than any other.
~*~*~*~*~
It rained the day of Buffy Summers’ memorial service. The church was packed with kids from Sunnydale High – not because of any shared fondness for the blonde, but because it was held on a Friday, during school hours. The only two – possibly three – students that showed any type of emotion were clustered in a small group in the front pew along with Buffy’s mother.
Joyce had had her daughter cremated immediately following the mandatory twenty-four hour waiting period. The massive blood loss the girl had suffered had provided the proof of her demise, and an autopsy hadn’t been warranted.
She stared straight ahead in her pew, her eyes locked on the smiling photo of her daughter that was placed on a table next to the urn of ashes. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks, her fingers anxiously twisting the handkerchief held in her hand, not because her daughter was, in fact, dead, but because she knew Buffy was gone – away from Sunnydale with Spike and the others. It was hard letting her little girl go, and it was only the promise of the redheaded vampiress that gave her the courage to get through this charade.
~*~
Xander sat between Cordelia and Willow, his arm wrapped comfortingly around the redhead while she cried profusely on his shoulder. He was numb. After being told by Giles that Drusilla had killed not only the newly arrived Slayer, Kendra, but Buffy as well, he’d seemed to shut down emotionally. He’d harbored a not-so-secret crush on the blonde, and hoped that with her being back in the present, he could perhaps get her to notice him in the not-just-friends kind of way. Help her slowly cope with what he was sure had to have been a traumatic experience at the hands of the blond vampire. Now his hopes were forever dashed, the dream of being something more to Buffy just that. A dream.
Buffy was the second person he’d cared about to be lost to the creatures of the night. Rage at the unfairness of it all consumed him, and his arm tightened reflexively around Willow’s shoulder. He felt her flinch and looked down at her to mouth a silent apology. Her head lifted, her pale face awash with tears, silently imploring him to make it better. That what they were doing right now wasn’t really happening – the two of them sitting there quietly while a priest waxed poetically about the departing of one of God’s children, how Buffy Summers had moved on to a better place.
“Xan?” she mouthed.
Xander didn’t know what to say, or really, what to do. He lowered his head to give Willow a brief, reassuring kiss, a brotherly show of support and affection – and was rocked by the sudden jolt of electricity that seemed to run through them both when their lips touched. He quickly pulled away to stare in wonder at his lifelong friend, and was even more puzzled to see the same look of wonderment in her eyes. Neither moved for a space of a moment or two, but then Xander smiled… hesitantly.
And felt a giddy thrill go through him when Willow blushed and smiled back.
He turned away finally and concentrated once more on what the priest was saying, but not before he’d coaxed Willow’s head back to his shoulder, his grip slightly more possessive than before.
When the sermon was finished and everyone began to file out, he looked at Buffy’s picture one last time and wished her a silent goodbye. Then he grasped Willow’s hand in his and led her out of the church and into the downpour outside.
~*~
Angel had slipped inside the church unnoticed, everyone’s attention trained on the priest preaching from the pulpit. Not since turning Drusilla had he dared to step inside so holy a place. Well, not since having his soul thrust upon him.
He wasn’t even sure why he’d come. Maybe he was hoping to catch one final glimpse of the girl he loved. And the grandchilde he’d begrudgingly come to respect.
“They’re not here.”
Angel glanced to his right to see Doyle walking quietly towards him. He sighed heavily.
“Where—?”
“Uh uh…” the half-breed cut him off. “Spike spared you because we’re friends and I asked him to. I won’t jeopardize that friendship by telling you where they are. Now, if you were to find out on your own… well… for one thing, it would be because they let you… and because Spike realizes that you are family, however loosely associated now. But, I’d give it some time for him to cool off before you start looking for them…say…a hundred years or so.”
Angel snorted, but nodded.
“I take it you’re not here to pay your last respect to the departed Slayer,” Angel commented after a time.
“Are you kidding? Places like this? Gives me the willies! It’s all I can do to keep the spikes hidden.” Doyle shuddered dramatically, pulling a reluctant smirk from the vampire. “Come on…there’s a pub not far from here. We can slip out before anyone notices and you can buy me a drink… we can talk about your leaving.”
“Leaving?”
“Los Angeles? City of Angels? Remember? It’s just the place for a vampire by the same name. Spike’s not the only one with a destiny, Angel.”
The End
A/N: Before you tar and feather me, yes, there will be an epilogue. But, this was a good place it end this fic. Oh, and there will be more to come in this “Verse.” There’s the fifty years to account for that the clan spent in the past that I’ll probably write at some point, explain their easy understanding of a multitude of languages, and when they spoke, how they blended several of them together. And I can’t help but want to see my “boys” paired off as well - so, yeah, there will be further adventures for the clan. (Alric’s probably going to be the first on my list.)