"Going Home"

Author: Samantha
Email: sammer77@aol.com

It was dark in Sunnydale. The sun had gone to bed less than an hour before. The unsuspecting residents of the quaint little town were getting settled in for the night. Dinner dishes were being washed and put away, televisions were being watched, children were finishing their homework-the winding down of another day in order to begin the cycle again tomorrow.

But unknown to all but a few select members of the populace, their time to sleep and dream the darkness away was also the time for creatures of the night to roam the streets. While most of the townspeople closed their eyes against what lurked in the shadows outside, a few pairs of eyes remained open wide, watching.

One of those watchful pairs of eyes belonged to a young, widowed father who lived on the edge of town. All the lights were burning in the Finn house as Riley sat on the front porch, staring into the darkness. Michael had gone up to his room to watch television and Riley took this rare silent moment to survey the surrounding area. He was listening intently to the sounds of the night around him, trying to catch anything unusual.

It used to be that Riley would actually go patrolling at night, the way Buffy used to. He would drop Michael off at Willow and Graham’s house and make the rounds through the city. But he no longer felt safe doing that. Not with the way things were now.

Things had gotten progressively worse over the years since Buffy’s death. It seemed that word got out quickly that the Slayer was dead. The news served as an invitation for demons from every corner of the earth. The demon population continued to grow steadily despite the best efforts of the Initiative. The bad guys were winning.

The Initiative. Its stranglehold on the demon circuit had begun to weaken not long after Buffy’s untimely demise. A mixture of bureaucracy and ego-conflict had torn the organization apart from the inside. Most of the soldiers felt that the cause was not worthy enough to put so much effort into. And considering that most of them had never seen a demon first-hand, it was somewhat understandable why they didn’t see the demons as a threat.

Of course, the dwindling funding for the project hadn’t helped the situation much either. The government had decided that sending thousands of troops to the Middle East to force those countries to trade crude oil with the US was more important than protecting its own citizens from an increasingly dangerous local threat. Riley was filled with bitterness whenever he thought about it. It was more important for people to be able to fill their gas tanks cheaply than it was to save their lives. A lot of good low gas prices are if there aren’t any people left to take advantage of them, he thought.

So it was down to he and Graham and a handful of others to try and protect the people from the invisible threat that loomed in the darkness. And Riley was no longer as confident as he used to be that the good guys would emerge victorious. The few that remained at the Initiative all had families and were no longer as willing to risk everything for the sake of others. Riley didn’t blame them. He felt the same way. The little boy upstairs meant the world to him and if it came down to his life or the life of a stranger, there was no choice.

Over an hour had passed as Riley looked at his watch. It was 10:37 and all was well. At least in the area surrounding his house. He stood up and stretched, taking one last look around before turning and walking into the house. Michael was probably asleep and would need to be tucked in.

Drake surveyed his troops. They stood around him in a loose circle, listening to his words intently. To them, Drake was the closest thing to the God they all feared so much.

"The time is near," Drake said calmly. "Our days of walking this earth in fear are almost over."

A silence fell on the group as Drake’s words soaked in. His words were the gospel. If Drake said it, it must be true.

"We will execute our plan in two days’ time. Until then, we will send a warning. Let him know we are coming." Drake nodded in the direction of a young soldier, one of his strongest and most fearless warriors. "Alec. I want you to deliver the message. Be creative." He grinned evilly at his young servant. "Go."

Alec nodded obediently and hurried out in anticipation. He loved it when Drake gave him these responsibilities. With each one he fulfilled, Drake rewarded him with a higher standing in the army. Soon, Alec hoped, he would be Drake’s assistant, his second-in-command. But first, he had to deliver a message.

A shrill scram echoed down the hallway. Riley awoke with a start and sat up.

"Daddy!" he heard Michael scream in panic.

Jumping off the bed, Riley bolted out of his room and down the hall. He pushed open his son’s door, expecting to find Michael sitting up in his bed, his eyes wide, like he did when he had a nightmare. But what he actually saw made his heart stop.

Michael was being held tightly in the cold embrace of a young vampire. The vampire was kneeling behind Michael, his arms wrapped around the small boy, his fangs inches away from the soft skin of Michael’s neck.

"Let him go," Riley managed through the lump of terror in his throat.

"Daddy," Michael whimpered.

Alec grinned evilly at the terrified man standing in front of him, not breathing. This is the part he thoroughly enjoyed-watching all the color drain from their faces. The paleness could even be detected in the moonlight, it was so drastic.

"Aw, darn," Alec toyed sarcastically. "You weren’t supposed to get your surprise until morning. I wanted you to see it in the fresh morning light." He laughed cruelly, lowering his head closer to Michael’s skin. He inhaled deeply, smelling the fear surrounding the boy. He lifted his eyes to the still unmoving figure in the doorway. "What, no fight? No begging?" He shrugged his shoulders apathetically. "Oh well." Alec touched his fangs to the boy’s neck.

Michael squirmed and bit down as hard as he could on the cold arm across his chest. Startled, Alec jerked, his grip on the boy loosened enough to allow Michael to escape his grasp. Michael ran to his father and hugged his legs tightly.

Alec, though disappointed that he had lost out on a snack, was satisfied that he had gotten his message across. "This is just the beginning," he stated coldly, eyeing Riley through the darkness. He turned and walked to the open window-the one he had used as an entrance a moment before-and hopped up onto the sill. "Sweet dreams," he said and slid easily off into the night.

Riley stood silently as he watched his son’s attacker disappear into the darkness. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. But as the terror slowly released its icy grip on his heart as the realization hit him that the immediate threat was gone. Riley finally turned his attention to the crying little boy holding his legs in his own tight grip.

Riley pried the small arms from him and kneeled down in front of Michael, looking into his face. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

Michael nodded weakly at his father’s question. But Riley had to make sure, to see for himself that his precious son was unhurt. He reached up and flipped on the bedroom light, inspecting the little boy closely. He started with his face and then went to his neck. There he saw two tiny red marks where the vamp’s fangs had pressed into his skin. But the skin wasn’t broken and Riley felt a wave of relief wash over him. He continued his search-from shoulders to feet-noticing that Michael had wet himself.

"Oh, Mikey." Riley squeezed his son’s hands gently.

Michael lowered his head. "I’m sorry, Daddy," he whispered, embarrassed.

Riley blinked and swallowed hard. "It’s okay, Mikey." He pulled his son closer to him. "It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault." He hugged Michael against him tightly, shutting his eyes. Finally, after a long moment, he stood up. He looked down at Michael.

"Go change your peejays. You can come and sleep in my room tonight." Riley messed his son’s hair playfully, trying to sound normal and calm. Michael was already scared enough; he needed Riley to be strong for him.

Riley went to close and lock the window, looking briefly into the darkness outside. He closed the curtains and watched silently as his young son moved about the room, gathering the things he needed to sleep-his pillow, his stuffed dog, his favorite blanket. And as he watched, he thought to himself, Who will be strong for me?

Michael had finally fallen asleep about thirty minutes before. Riley was wide awake, watching his little boy disappear under the covers. He had been unable to shake the fear completely and as he looked at his sleeping son, he trembled at the thought of how close he had come to losing him.

Quietly, Riley stood up and walked to the window, looking out into the still night. Earlier, after the vamp had gone, Riley and Michael had gone around the house double-checking to make sure all the locks were secure. They had done that mostly for Michael’s peace of mind. Riley knew that it would take more than a lock to keep demons away.

Riley wondered briefly how the vamp had gotten in uninvited. But he must have been invited. Michael must’ve… Riley shook his head slowly as he realized just how innocent and naïve his son was. And how stupid he himself was. On the day that Michael was born, Riley swore that his son would never have to deal with the darkness that lived in the town. Riley had tried to shelter Michael from all the terrible truths about life in Sunnydale.

He cursed himself as he looked into what seemed like a quiet night. His stupidity had almost cost him the son he was trying so hard to protect. He should’ve packed up and moved out of Sunnydale the moment he brought Michael home. Gone somewhere where it would be easier to deny the truth. But he hadn’t. No, he had such big dreams, such delusions of grandeur. He was going to save the world, to make it a better place for his son. What a joke.

And now he was being targeted. The vamp’s own words had confirmed that-"This is just the beginning." To them, Riley stood as the last obstacle to their total domination. He must be eliminated. And Riley didn’t know what to do to stop it. He wasn’t sure if he could and that scared the hell out of him.

Looking over his shoulder at his sleeping son, he thought about how much Michael depended on him. If Michael only knew how much Riley depended on him. Michael was Riley’s lifeline, his connection to both the past and the future. That lifeline had almost been severed and Riley had just stood there and watched helplessly, too terrified at the thought of losing another piece of his family to even move. Riley’s greatest fear had always been that he wouldn’t be able to protect his son when the time came. And that fear had been realized tonight.

Turning back to the window, he studied his faint reflection on the glass. Even he could see the fear in his own eyes. He closed his eyelids against the image and took a deep breath. "Oh Buffy," he whispered. "I need you."

"The end is nearing, sister," the male Oracle said sadly. His eyes focused on the smooth pool of water reflecting the scene. It was through this pool that they studied and witnessed the occurrences on Earth. The images were so real that it felt as though the people reflected on the water’s surface could be touched. But the observer quickly learned that it was all so very intangible. With one simple touch of a finger, the image disappeared, floating away in tiny concentric circles of water.

Sometimes the pool reflected images from the past, things to be learned from. And sometimes it showed the present, as it did now. The two Oracles stared quietly at Riley’s image and watched his silent fears manifest themselves in his eyes. But every now and then, the future was reflected on the water’s smooth surface. And that is what frightened the Oracles. They had seen the future and it was bleak.

"There must be something that can be done, brother. I fear this world we’re headed to." She laid a hand on his shoulder gently. The heavenly siblings looked at each other, searching for the answer.

It was Saturday and Riley had taken Michael over to Joyce’s house. They were all in the backyard. Riley lay in the hammock, trying hard to look unconcerned. He didn’t want to worry Joyce. And he didn’t tell her about Michael’s near-death experience of the night before and made Michael promise to keep it their little secret.

He turned his face in the direction of his mother-in-law and son. Michael didn’t like coming here. He complained that his grandmother hugged him too much and sometimes she cried for no reason. But Riley had tried to explain to him that Joyce just loved him so much that she couldn’t help but hug him and that she cried because she was so happy.

But Riley knew the truth. Joyce had never gotten over Buffy’s death. Not that any of them had ever really gotten over it. But at least they had moved on, had found something to keep them going. But with Joyce, the death of her only child had taken its toll.

Riley knew the feeling. The months immediately following Buffy and Emma’s deaths were excruciatingly dark and colorless. But he had been given a second chance with Michael, a newfound meaning to his life. Joyce, however, had never seemed to find a new reason to live. Sure, she functioned, she worked, she ate and slept, but to anyone who knew her, it was obvious the light was gone.

Riley always tried to include her in everything. Like with these weekly visits with Michael. She seemed to come to life a bit more when Michael was around. Michael was a part of Buffy that was real and tangible. But there were times when Joyce would look at Michael and burst out crying. Riley understood why. Looking into Michael’s eyes was like looking into Buffy’s. It was so uncanny that even Riley was thrown by the resemblance at times.

But what differed between Joyce and the rest of them was that she had never been able to let go and accept the fact that Buffy was gone. It was too hard for her to believe that she had outlived her own daughter, especially when Buffy had been so strong and vibrant in her life.

As Riley looked at her now, sitting indian style in the grass with Michael, his heart was heavy. It would break Buffy’s heart to see her mother so far gone-her eyes dull, her skin gaunt and pale, her tears so abundant. Joyce was holding on tightly to something she would never have again and she was slowly dying inside.

Not that they all didn’t have their own ways of holding on to Buffy. Willow and Graham had named their daughter-their second child-Anne, in commemoration of Buffy’s middle name. She was a beautiful, intelligent child with wide brown eyes and hair as red as her mother’s. They had asked Riley for permission to name her Anne and he had told them that Buffy would have liked that.

As for Xander, Buffy’s death had made him realize just how precious life was and how there was no time to waste. He had married Anya shortly after Buffy’s death and had thrown a birthday party for both Buffy and Emma every year since.

Giles worked for the Initiative, or what was left of it, doing research and doing what he could for the cause. After Buffy’s death, he lost his direction, not knowing where he fit in anymore. Riley had offered him a job that Giles had immediately accepted. Being able to carry on his role in the cause that Buffy had embodied during her life gave him a purpose and rejuvenated him.

Of course, Riley was not without his own link to the past. He still wore his wedding ring. Over the years, he had been able to pack up Buffy’s things and put them away. But he had been unable and unwilling to remove the gold band from his finger. That tiny bauble represented everything he and Buffy had shared-their lives, their children, their joys and sorrows. And even though Buffy had been gone for over five years, Riley still felt married. He knew that would never change. So the ring remained.

But everyone else’s way of remembering, of holding on, didn’t consume their lives the way it did Joyce’s. She couldn’t let go and Riley feared the consequences.

"No." Her voice was nothing more than an inaudible whisper. Her angelic face was contorted with fear and pain, her reflection juxtaposed on the scene reflected on the pool’s smooth surface. She watched in silent horror as her husband was viciously attacked, as his life was drained away.

"Why are you showing me this?" she asked, fighting back her tears. "Why are you showing me this when there is nothing I can do to stop it?" She continued to stare even after the image had disappeared, finally tearing her eyes away after a long moment. She focused her attention on the two Oracles. They had summoned her and had shown her what the future held in store.

The female Oracle spoke up. "All is not lost, Slayer. We do nothing without a reason. We have shown you the future as it stands now. Not as how it may end up."

Buffy blinked her tears away as she stepped closer to the omniscient beings. "What are you saying?" she asked cautiously.

"That what you see is not always what you get," the male answered.

Buffy held he breath as she processed his words. "S-So you’re saying that you can change things? That you can make it so Riley doesn’t die?" She looked at them hopefully.

The Oracles’ faces remained unchanged. "We cannot," the female said coolly. She watched as Buffy’s face dropped. "But you can."

Buffy wasn’t sure she had heard correctly. But the Oracles were not going to repeat it and they waited patiently for Buffy to respond. After all, they had nothing but time.

"How?" Buffy managed, her voice a whisper. She felt herself begin to tremble.

The male stepped forward, studying her closely. "We send you back. Return to you the life you lost."

Staring incredulously at him, Buffy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. After her death and subsequent arrival in the afterworld, Buffy had begged for Emma’s life, claiming that Emma needed her father and that Riley shouldn’t be left alone to fight what should’ve been her fights, their fights. But the Powers had continually refused her, saying that once taken, a life could not be returned.

She searched for words. "The Powers said…" she began, scanning their faces for a clue.

"…that a life lost cannot be returned," the female finished.

Buffy nodded weakly.

"That is true…for most lives. But most lives do not lead to anarchy when lost. Most lives, when taken, leave the world intact." The female stepped closer.

But Buffy didn’t miss a beat. "So you’re gonna give me back my life. Just like that." Her green eyes burned into the all-knowing eyes of the Oracle.

"Nothing’s that easy, Buffy," the male cooed, moving next to his sister smoothly.

"So what’s the catch?" Buffy asked cautiously, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

The female smiled slightly. "The catch, as you call it, is simple."

"You must maintain the balance," the male continued.

"A life for a life," the female added.

Buffy stood mesmerized, her mouth slightly open, at the words the Oracles were speaking.

"There is a balance between the souls on Earth and the souls we keep. We cannot return a soul without getting one in return." The male stared at her blankly, seemingly annoyed at having to explain.

"A life for a life," Buffy echoed, whispering. She was beginning to understand.

"You must choose," the female said. "It is up to you to pick who will take your place with us."

"Choose?" Buffy asked weakly.

The male spoke gently. "If you do not, we will choose for you. And you may not like who we pick. That’s the deal, Buffy. There is no negotiation."

Buffy was silent. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. One that had slipped her mind in all the madness. She looked at the Oracles, wide-eyed. "What about Emma?"

The female answered softly, "She stays with us."

Buffy felt her stomach tighten. "I can’t leave her," she stammered.

"She stays. That’s the deal." The male was becoming agitated.

His sister broke in. "You don’t need to make your decision now. But you will have to soon. The time is fast approaching."

Buffy stared at her, her eyes wide and glistening. "When?" she asked hoarsely.

"In twenty-four hours’ time, what is now only a reflection in the water will become reality. Think about it," the female stated.

And with those words, the Oracles were gone, leaving Buffy with her thoughts.

Drake sat in the dim light of his lair. Looking around bitterly, he thought about how his current living conditions were almost over. He smiled evilly to himself at the thought of his future. His painstaking planning and patience was finally paying off. It had taken a very long time to get to this point, but when you’re immortal, time is no object.

When the news of the Slayer’s death reached him, he almost laughed out loud. The only obstacle to his plan, the only person that could spoil everything, was dead. It was as if outside forces were working in his favor to ensure the realization of his goals.

Take the Initiative, for instance. He had heard the rumors but had never really believed them. Until he reached Sunnydale. He had witnessed too many of his comrades be captured by the stealthy commandos not to take them seriously. But the fates had intervened again. Drake watched in amusement as the secret agency dismantled itself from the inside, with no help from him or his friends. It was amazing how everything seemed to be falling into place for him.

And in just a few hours, everything he had worked for would come to fruition. The sun would be completely set in a short while and his troops would begin to set his plan into motion.

Drake could hardly wait.

Joyce couldn’t hold on any longer. Every morning when she opened her eyes, she was disappointed that she had lived to see another day. Another day without meaning. Another day without Buffy.

Riley was trying so hard to keep her going, to help her find a reason to go on. Every weekend, he brought his son over to see her. Michael had given him a newfound sense of purpose. Perhaps the little boy could provide the same service to his grandmother.

And Joyce adored her grandson. He was the spitting image of his father. Except for his eyes. He had his mother’s green eyes. Which was why it was so hard sometimes to look at him. Michael was a part of Buffy that she could hold on to, but when she looked into his eyes, all she could see was the daughter she lost. The daughter she would never have again. And it hurt.

Buffy had meant so much to her, to the entire world. She had been the Chosen One, the protector of all mankind. The world needed her. But she was gone. And Emma…she had been just a baby. Both had been too young and both had been taken before their time. And the world was a darker place without them.

Yet here Joyce remained, empty and alone. She had asked herself every day since Buffy’s death why she had been spared. In the grand scheme of things, her life made no difference to the world. Her death would not have resulted in evil and darkness running rampant. Not the way Buffy’s had.

She sat on the porch swing and rocked absently, staring down the front walk into the night. A little voice insider her head told her to go inside, that it wasn’t safe to be outside at night. Not in Sunnydale. But she ignored it.

She continued to rock.

"Okay, Graham. Thanks. Bye." Riley hung up the phone and stood silent for a moment, thinking.

"Who was that?" Michael asked from the kitchen doorway. He held a half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich in one hand, wiping his other hand on his shirt.

Riley looked down at his son, focusing on his atrocious etiquette. He smiled slightly. "That was your Uncle Graham." Riley picked Michael up and sat him on the counter in front of him, inspecting him closely. "Are you eating that sandwich or wearing it?" he asked jokingly.

Michael looked at his father, a confused look on his face. "Huh?"

Riley laughed. "Never mind." He reached over and grabbed a wad of paper towels, wiping off Michael’s face and hands.

"How would you like to go spend the night at Uncle Graham and Aunt Willow’s house? You could play with Josh." Riley stopped his intense cleaning of his sticky son. Josh was Graham and Willow’s eldest child. He was a few months older than Michael and the two boys were best friends.

But Michael’s reply surprised Riley. "I don’t want to go."

Riley eyed his son closely. "Why not? I thought you liked going over there."

Michael squirmed uncomfortably. "I do. I just want to stay here, that’s all." He slid off the counter and past Riley.

Watching as the little boy walked quickly out of the kitchen, Riley got the feeling that there was something Michael wasn’t telling him.

"Michael?" he asked, stepping out of the kitchen and peering around the corner after him. But Michael had disappeared upstairs.

Riley followed quickly and pushed open the door to Michael’s bedroom. Michael was on his bed, his face buried in the pillow. He was trying not to make a sound, but Riley knew he was crying.

Moving closer, he sat gently on the edge of Michael’s bed. "Mikey, look at me," he said softly, touching his son’s back gently.

A moment passed before the little boy sat up and rubbed his eyes, staring up at his father. He sniffled, trying to be strong.

"What’s the matter?" Riley inquired.

"I don’t want to go, Daddy. I’m scared." His face was red, his eyes wet as he looked down at his feet.

Riley shifted closer to Michael. "Scared? There’s nothing to be scared of at their house."

But Michael was shaking his head. Grabbing his dad’s hand tightly in both of his, he looked up into Riley’s face. "No, Daddy. I’m scared that if I go over there, you won’t be here when I come back. I’m scared that the monster will come back."

The fear in his tiny voice made Riley’s heart break. So that vamp had scared Michael more than he’d let on. And Michael was afraid that he’d come back.

So was Riley. Which was exactly why Riley had wanted Michael to stay with Graham and Willow tonight. He kept remembering the vamp’s parting words, his promise that it was not over for Riley. And Riley wanted Michael as far away as possible in case the vamp’s promise was fulfilled.

"Michael, listen to me. I’m okay. Nothing’s going to happen to me. I promise." He paused and looked into his son’s eyes. "But I need you to do me a favor, okay? I need you to sleep over at Graham and Willow’s house. Daddy has to work tonight. Can you do that for me?" He squeezed Michael’s hands firmly.

Michael paused, looking up at his father silently. He thought about his answer. "Okay, Daddy."

Riley smiled reassuringly. "Thank you, Mikey. You’re such a big boy."

Michael suddenly hugged Riley tightly, wrapping his arms around his neck. "I love you, Daddy," he whispered against Riley’s ear.

"I love you too, Mikey." Riley squeezed his eyes shut as he held his son close.

Emma was sleeping. She was sitting on Buffy’s lap, her tiny blonde head resting on Buffy’s shoulder. Buffy listened carefully to her daughter’s deep, even breathing, her eyes closed against the war raging in her mind.

She hadn’t spent a day without Emma since Emma was two weeks old. Buffy couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her behind. But that was the choice she was facing-she could either refuse to leave her daughter and watch as everyone she loved on Earth died, or she could get her life back and save her family. But she would have to leave Emma. Some choice.

But that was the deal. No negotiation, that’s what the Oracles had said. And on top of everything else, Buffy was supposed to choose who was going to take her place here. How was she supposed to do that? How could she possibly point at someone and say that her life was worth more than theirs? That they had to die so she could live? It wasn’t fair.

Riley felt a lump form in his throat as he stepped out onto Graham’s front porch. Michael stood in the doorway, sadly watching his dad go. Riley turned and kneeled down, holding his arms out. Michael broke from the doorway and ran into his father’s embrace.

"Okay, Mikey. I’ve gotta go now. But I will be here to pick you up tomorrow." Riley’s voice was a whisper in his son’s ear.

"Promise?" Michael asked weakly, holding on to his dad for dear life.

Riley reached up and peeled Michael’s arms away. He looked the little boy directly in the eyes. "I promise." He squeezed Michael’s shoulders gently. "Be a good boy." He tried to smile.

Michael nodded slightly. "Okay. I will."

It took every ounce of strength Riley had to stand up and walk off the porch, to leave his son behind. "Bye, Mikey. I’ll see you tomorrow," he called over his shoulder reassuringly.

Riley had reached his car and had his hand on the door handle when someone called his name. He turned to see Graham jogging towards him.

"Riley, wait up." Graham reached him and stood in front of him, his hand resting on the car roof. He didn’t say anything, just eyed Riley closely.

"What is it?" Riley asked, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

"Maybe you should tell me," Graham said, keeping his voice low.

Riley glared at him. "I don’t know what you mean," he replied unconvincingly.

Graham stepped a foot closer. "Come on, Riley. I know something’s up. What is it?"

Letting his breath out slowly, Riley looked away, off into the distance. "Nothing. Just something I have to do. It doesn’t concern you."

Graham brought Riley’s attention back to him. He waited until Riley’s eyes focused on his before he spoke. "What can I do to help? What do you need?" he asked slowly.

Riley paused a moment before answering, debating whether or not to tell him. He looked at his best friend wearily. "What I need, Graham, is for you to go back into your house and be with your wife and kids. There’s nothing you can do for me. I’m fine."

Studying Riley’s expression, Graham searched for the truth. But Riley gave nothing away. Something wasn’t right and Graham was uneasy. He knew Riley wasn’t telling him everything, but he also knew it would do no good to press. So instead, Graham reached out and squeezed his friend’s shoulder. "Okay, Riley. Okay. But if you need anything, you know where to find me."

Riley smiled weakly. "Thanks." He turned to open the car door as Graham began walking back to his house. A thought came to him as he bent down to get in the driver’s seat. He stood up and called out, "Graham!"

Graham turned quickly. "Yeah?"

"There is something you can do for me," Riley answered.

"What’s that?" Graham asked hopefully.

Riley took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "Tell Michael to be ready by 9:00 tomorrow morning. That’s when I’ll be by to get him."

A moment passed between the two friends. Graham nodded slowly. "Sure. I’ll tell him." He watched silently as Riley got into his car and backed out of the driveway. As the car disappeared around the corner, Graham couldn’t help but feel that something was about to happen. He just wasn’t sure what.

The time had finally arrived, the moment Drake had been waiting for. His elaborate plan for domination would be put into motion. He grinned proudly as he thought about how his new beginning meant the end for so many others. He loved the irony of it all.

He had sent his minions out to carry out their assignments. They were to attack their specific targets in their homes, the last place anyone would expect a vamp to enter. Not invited? Not a problem. That little inconvenience had been taken care of thanks to Drake’s good fortune.

It was a full moon when Drake came across a family of witches performing their nightly ritual in the woods near his dwelling. He was returning home from a bountiful feast and wasn’t really very hungry. But he could hardly contain himself at the sight of so much free food. He laughed out loud, startling the young family.

Before they could react, Drake had the little boy by the neck. The boy’s mother screamed and lunged instinctively for her son. But the boy was dead. He dropped the boy’s body to the ground and the mother sobbed and fell tot he ground on top of him.

The father moved to stake him. But he wasn’t fast enough. Drake grabbed his wrist and turned the stake around, jamming it into the man’s chest. The man slumped to the ground next to his wife, the life slowly draining from him.

The wife looked up, terrified. She noticed Drake eyeing her daughter closely. She managed to speak. "Don’t hurt her, please. I’ll give you anything you want. Just don’t hurt her."

Drake thought about that for a long moment, holding the young mother in suspense. There were so many things he wanted. But he had to be realistic. Then it hit him. He grinned evilly. "There is something I want."

"Anything," she stammered desperately.

"I want a potion. Something to make it easy for me to be a surprise house guest. I want easy access to food. I hate having to fight just to get something to eat." He laughed.

The young witch looked up at him. She knew what he wanted. "I can do that," she whispered.

"Good. Let’s get to it. The sun will be up soon and I don’t have time to chat."

She stood up slowly, shakily. "If I do this, you won’t kill us?"

He smiled his version of a sincere smile. "Cross my heart," he said sarcastically.

Drake grinned at the memory. Dumb bitch, he thought amusedly. She had actually taken him at his word out of desperation. When she had completed his potion, he had killed them both and proceeded to drain all four of them. And to top it off, the potion actually worked. He hadn’t really expected it to. He had tested it the very next night. And it didn’t take much. Just a drop did the trick. Which was a good thing considering the stuff tasted like sewage.

He had saved it for a rainy day. And luckily for him, there was a raging storm coming.

"Your time is up, Buffy. It is time to make your decision. What will it be?" the male Oracle asked calmly.

Buffy had been summoned again. Only this time, the situation was a little more urgent. Buffy stared at him, her eyes wide. "I can’t…I need more time," she muttered.

"There is no more time left, Buffy. What you saw on the water’s surface a day ago is happening now. You either choose to stay or you choose to go. Which one will it be?" the female cooed softly.

Buffy blinked. She couldn’t think. All she could see were the terrible scenes of pain and death playing in her head over and over. She saw Riley trying to fight, being overpowered. She heard his screams as he cried out for Michael with his last breath.

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head firmly. "No…" she whispered. "Riley…"

"Buffy," the male said sternly.

"Okay! Alright! Send me back! Take whoever you want, just send me back!" she pleaded, sobbing.

Riley pulled into his drive, his heart heavy. He couldn’t get Michael’s face out of his mind. And he didn’t like hiding things from Graham. But he didn’t want Graham involved. This was Riley’s fight, even if he could use the help.

Besides, if something happened… No. He wouldn’t let himself think about that. He had promised his son that he would be there to pick him up in the morning. And he would be. He kept his promises.

Riley slid the key in the lock and turned the knob slowly, pushing the front door open. The light flipped on before he even reached for the switch.

"We’ve been waiting for you, Riley." Alec’s voice was cold and calm. He stared at Riley, who was standing in the still open doorway trying desperately to think of a plan. Running would be useless. Fighting would probably prove futile. But he had no other choice.

Riley bent over and ran at Alec with all his power, knocking him back into the sofa, overturning it. But he had failed to notice the others. He hadn’t seen them when he came in. He had been too preoccupied by the reappearance of the vamp that had almost killed Michael.

Alec just laughed as he stood up and brushed himself off. Riley was grabbed from behind, his arms immobilized. He squirmed but couldn’t get free. He tried kicking his legs, but he was kicked swiftly behind each knee and collapsed to the floor. His feet were pinned at the ankles.

Slowly, Alec walked over to Riley. "Well, this is a nice switch isn’t it? How does it feel to know you’re going to die soon?" He glared into Riley’s eyes.

Riley tried to lunge at him, but couldn’t move. Alec laughed heartily. "This is fun. Really fun."

Spitting in Alec’s face, Riley said through clenched teeth, "Go to hell."

Alec wiped his face with the back of his hand absently, grinning slightly. "Tell you what," he said evenly. "I’ll meet you there." He reached back and swung his arm around, hitting Riley across the face with all his power.

Riley’s head jerked back from the force. He was stunned for a moment. But when he lifted his head up to look at Alec, he grinned widely through the blood oozing from his mouth and nose.

Beginning to lose his temper, Alec’s face morphed into its vampire façade. He flashed his fangs at Riley.

"Ooh, scary." Riley’s voice was icy, his glare burning into Alec’s own amber-colored gaze.

Alec kicked him swiftly in the stomach and followed up with another blow to the head. Riley struggled to breathe, but remained conscious.

The two vamps holding Riley licked their lips at the sight of Riley’s blood. They looked at Alec hopefully.

"Not now, boys. Riley here," he said, calming down, "is for the boss. His own special treat."

Riley was unresponsive. Even though he was conscious, that last blow had jumbled everything. He barely noticed it when Alec and his muscle began dragging him out the door.

They were just supposed to go to their assigned house and carry out their orders. Nothing else. Just go, kill, and come back. No stopping for a snack on the way. But when you’re young and thirsty, it’s so hard to keep your mind on task.

The young vamp nudged his partner with his elbow, pointing to his left. "Look."

His partner followed his finger. What he saw made him pause. He stared at the image in front of him.

"What do you say?" the young vamp asked anxiously.

His partner thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "No. The boss said not to make any stops." He started walking again.

But the young vamp put a hand on his arm. "Come on. It’ll be easy. Take no time at all. Who’s it gonna hurt?" He looked over again in anticipation.

His partner studied him momentarily before relenting. "Fine. But if Drake finds out…"

"He won’t." The young vamp pulled his partner up the front walk quickly, hardly able to contain his excitement.

The woman was sleeping in the porch swing, her head tilted to the side, leaving her neck exposed. As the young vamp pressed his fangs into her soft flesh, she opened her eyes, grasping her attacker instinctively.

But she didn’t fight long. Slowly, she loosened her grip and relaxed her body, welcoming the oblivion she felt overtaking her.

"Buffy…" she muttered softly.

The plan was simple. Drake had sent his followers to several specific locations throughout Sunnydale. He sent them in pairs so as to lessen the risk of error. Each group was to go to its specific house and wait for Drake’s signal. Upon his go-ahead, they were to enter the residence and get to work. Clean and efficient.

Drake was a stickler for details. He had everything planned out to the last imaginable extreme. His plan was to begin the festivities with Riley. Of course, he couldn’t let Riley die without telling him about how all the people of Sunnydale were now going to be pawns in his game of destruction, that the people Riley tried so hard to protect were going to be under Drake’s control. No, Riley wasn’t going to get off easily. Drake would make sure that death came slowly, so that Riley had plenty of time to think about how he had failed.

But the fireworks would begin at 11:00pm. By then, Drake planned on finishing Riley off and setting the rest of his plan in motion-setting his disciples loose on the rest of the city to ensure Drake’s smooth transition into power. Everyone who posed any sort of threat to Drake’s ambition was targeted-namely, the few remaining members of the Initiative. But no one was immune.

Buffy opened her eyes. She looked around frantically, searching for something familiar. Where was she?

The problem was that she had no idea where it all was happening. The Oracles had shown her what would happen, but not where.

Pushing herself up from the ground quickly, her entire body tensed as she heard a sound behind her. She turned quickly and squinted into the darkness. A raccoon. She had been frightened by a raccoon! Boy, had it been a while.

She took a breath, filling her lungs to the brim with the sweet night air. That was something she hadn’t done in a long time. She hadn’t realized just how much she missed breathing the cold, crisp night air.

But she didn’t have time to reminisce or bask in the glory of being alive again. Because if she didn’t find Riley fast, her newfound vitality would be for nothing.

Getting her bearings, she started running towards the cemetery. That was as good a place as any to start looking.

The two vamps, fresh from their feed, stepped into the shadows next to their destination. The lights burned in the window near their hiding place. The young vamp peeked inside carefully. He watched silently as a young, red-haired woman sat on the sofa, three small children surrounding her. They were watching television, their eyes glued to the screen.

He relished the thought of another meal and grinned at the young family in anticipation. His partner seemed to know what he was thinking and whispered roughly, "No!"

The young vamp looked at his partner, disappointed. "But it would be so easy…" he began.

His partner grabbed his arm. "I said no. Not until the signal. Those are the rules. So just be patient."

Pouting, the young vamp turned his attention back to the window. It would be too easy to take that woman. And the children…no effort at all. Now the dad, he would be a different story. He would fight back.

The young vamp wondered briefly where the man of the house was.

Graham’s heart pounded in his chest as he pulled into Riley’s driveway behind Riley’s car. The lights were on inside and the front door was wide open.

After Riley had left Graham’s house earlier, Graham had delivered Riley’s message to Michael and had tried to relax. But Riley’s words and the look on his face prevented that. Graham couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. Riley had been acting so suspicious, and no matter how much he had tried to hide it, he had been scared. Really scared.

Riley had told him that it was nothing, just something that he had to take care of. And maybe it was. But something kept gnawing at Graham. He couldn’t shake it. He needed to see for himself that Riley was okay.

So he had gone out in search of his friend. He started with Riley’s house. Which is where he sat now, worried. His fears were being realized. Pushing open his car door quickly, Graham ran up the porch steps and into the house. He looked around frantically. "Riley?"

Then he saw it. The sofa was overturned and a lamp lay shattered on the floor. He took a few steps into the disheveled living room, his heart pounding. "Riley, where are you?" he asked himself, his voice a hoarse whisper.

He searched the room for clues. That’s when he saw the blood. On the floor near his feet, he noticed several small spots of blood. He bent and touched his finger to one of them, rubbing the substance slowly between his fingers. And no matter how much Graham wanted to believe the contrary, he knew whose blood it was. In his heart he knew. But it was still fresh and there wasn’t a lot of it. That was a good sign. It meant that Riley wasn’t too badly hurt.

When Riley opened his eyes, all he saw was darkness. But as his eyes adjusted, he saw a face. A cold, pale face spread open with an evil grin.

"Well, look who we have here," Drake said amusedly. "Everyone’s favorite soldier boy."

Riley tried to move, but realized he was tied down. His head throbbed. "Who the hell are you?" he muttered weakly.

"Let’s cease with the introductions, shall we? There’s really no point anyway, since you won’t be around long enough to get to know me." Drake laughed loudly.

Riley tried to think, but was finding it hard to stay focused. All he really knew was that he was trapped and that he was probably going to die. His only real thought was that he was glad Michael was safe.

"How does it feel to know that you’re not quite the superhero you thought you were?" Drake grinned down at Riley and then glanced at Alec with satisfaction, nodding in approval. "My young assistant here really did a number on you, didn’t he? He very strong."

Alec stepped closer, grinning. "Thanks, boss."

Riley spoke up. "If you’re going to kill me, just do it. It’s so much more preferable than listening to you two suck up to each other." He chuckled sarcastically. "Suck up. That was a good one. Get it-suck up?" He laughed again.

Drake shook his head. "Oh, I’m going to kill you, Riley. But I am going to have a little fun first." He paused, studying his prized prey. "Let me tell you a story."

"Ooh, I hope it’s ‘Hansel and Gretel.’ That’s my favorite. Especially the part where the evil witch dies a horrible, fiery death." Riley glared at Drake stubbornly, his anger surfacing.

But Drake was unfazed. "I see someone thinks he’s funny."

"It wasn’t a joke. Think of it more as a promise." His eyes flashed in the dim light.

"Really." Drake’s voice was calm. "You know, Riley. People really shouldn’t make promises they can’t keep. It really doesn’t do much for them in the trust department."

Drake’s words brought to Riley’s mind the promise he had made to Michael earlier-that he would be okay. He was overwhelmed with the need to not let that little boy down. He glared at Drake with a new wave of hatred.

"What, no response? No clever comeback? You disappoint me." Drake stepped closer to Riley, who didn’t move a muscle. "Oh well. It was getting tiresome anyway," he added, slapping Riley across the face. Riley didn’t flinch.

"You see," Drake continued. "You’re like the cork on a champagne bottle. You must be disposed of before the real fun can begin."

Riley remained silent, clenching his hands into fists behind him.

"At this moment, several of your friends and those you vowed to protect are getting ready for bed, ending one day so they can begin another one tomorrow. They have no idea what waits for them when they close their eyes. Imagine the possibilities…" Drake said dreamily.

Alec watched the scene excitedly.

Buffy was panicked. She had searched the cemetery from end to end-every crypt, every shadow-and had found no sign of Riley.

She fell to her knees, out of breath. Tears began streaming down her face. Every passing second brought Riley closer to the end. And for all Buffy knew, she may already be too late. But she had to keep searching. She couldn’t give up.

"Please help me," she sobbed breathlessly, looking up into the night sky. "Show me the way."

Suddenly, a light glowed in the distance.

Graham stood in Riley’s driveway, looking up into the sky, silently praying for a clue to Riley’s whereabouts. He had no idea where to look and was desperate to find his friend before it was too late.

In all his years with the Initiative, he had learned not to accept things at face value. To not take anything for granted and to expect the unexpected. So when he saw the soft glow of light hovering in the distance, he took it as a sign. He started running towards it.

Drake had Riley by the throat. It was almost time. Although the build-up to the main event hadn’t been nearly as fun as he’d hoped. Riley hadn’t acted quite as pathetically as Drake had hoped he would. In fact, Riley had given him nothing but silence and dirty looks.

But Drake would get over it. Besides, he had a lot of interesting things to look forward to in the days, weeks, and months to come. He was moving on to bigger and better things.

He smiled expectantly as he heard the clock tower begin to chime the hour. It was 11:00pm. He counted off in his mind the slow, methodical tones. One, two, three… His face slowly morphed into the contorted, fanged visage of evil as he lowered his mouth to Riley’s neck.

When he had finished draining him, he would send Alec to the roof to shoot off the flares signaling the troops to carry out their assignments. From now on, nothing was to be done without his approval. He was in control now and no one would disobey. To disobey was to die.

Seven, eight, nine… Riley closed his eyes. This was the end.

The next thing he heard was glass shattering and him falling to the floor. He opened his eyes, but couldn’t see anything. He tried turning his head, but the pain prevented much movement. He actively began working his hands free from their bondage.

Riley could hear the commotion, but couldn’t see what was going on. All he knew was that he wasn’t dead and that he had to get free. He used all his strength to throw his weight against the back of the chair. It splintered under him. His arms now free, he reached down and untied his feet. He quickly got to his feet, but was readily grabbed from behind. Riley gripped the vamp’s arm and flipped him over his head, watching as he rolled away across the dirt floor.

Alec, who had watched the whole scene silently until now, turned to run out the door. He was going to the roof to set off the flares. This part of the plan may have fallen through, but the rest could still be carried out.

As he climbed up the ladder on the side of the building, he felt a hand grab his foot and yank him to the ground. He looked up, dazed. A foot pressed heavily on his chest, holding him down.

Graham looked down at the pinned vamp, disgust glowing in his dark eyes. "Where is he?" he demanded of his prisoner.

Alec grinned. "Who?" he asked innocently.

But Graham didn’t have time to play this game. To his left, he saw two bodies fly through the entrance and fall writhing to the ground. One of those bodies was Riley. He was struggling with another young vamp.

Alec took the opportunity, while Graham was preoccupied, to pull Graham to the ground and gain the upper hand. Alec stood quickly and kicked Graham swiftly, rolling him over.

Waiting for his chance, Graham lay still. When Alec stepped closer, Graham jumped to his feet and plunged a dead branch through Alec’s chest, watching apathetically as he turned to dust.

Graham heard the commotion continuing behind him. Grasping the branch tightly in his hand, he ran over to where Riley was struggling. The vamp had begun to get the upper hand and had Riley pinned against the ground, his hand around Riley’s neck.

Riley brought his fist back and was just about to send it sailing into the vamp’s face when the vamp vanished, covering Riley in a thin layer of dust.

Graham leaned over, offering a hand to Riley. "Nothing, huh?" he asked sarcastically, helping Riley up.

Riley brushed himself off, giving his friend a sarcastic smirk. "Very funny. I’m just glad you didn’t believe me. Thanks for saving me in there," he said, motioning to his recent prison.

But Graham looked at him, confused. "I haven’t stepped foot in there. That wasn’t me."

At first, Riley thought he was kidding. But the look on Graham’s face and the tone of his voice told Riley that he wasn’t. He looked at Graham closely. "Then who…?" he asked curiously.

But a loud crash from inside grabbed their attention. They turned their eyes to the entrance as two more bodies flew out onto the grass. Riley recognized the vamp as Drake, but couldn’t see who was fighting with him. Drake was blocking his view.

Graham and Riley began running towards the toiling pair, but stopped short as Drake disintegrated into a pile of dust, revealing his killer.

Buffy lay on the ground near the entrance, her eyes closed, struggling for breath. She held a piece of the broken chair in her right hand, grasping her forehead with her left.

Riley fell to his knees, unable to breathe. A few short feet away lay a woman that looked exactly like his dead wife. And she was alive. The resemblance was uncanny. He reached a trembling hand out slowly. No, it couldn’t be…

"Buffy?" he whispered weakly, his heart pounding.

Buffy opened her eyes and turned her head towards the voice. She sat up quickly at the sight of Riley’s face. "Oh my God! Riley! Riley!" She flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank God you’re okay," she whispered against his ear.

Stunned, Riley couldn’t move. He couldn’t believe it. What was happening? Was he imagining this? Or was he dead and this was his reunion with Buffy in the afterlife? He couldn’t think straight.

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing tighter and tighter. She felt real. He could feel her breath on his skin. He took a deep breath. She smelled like he remembered. And he felt his own heart pounding in his chest, so he wasn’t dead. He wasn’t hallucinating. Buffy was really there, in his arms.

Tears stung his eyes as he pressed his face against her shoulder and pulled his arms tighter around her. It had been so long since he had felt the bliss the simple act of holding her gave him. He had accepted the fact that he would never feel that again. But she was here and they were together again. He wasn’t about to question it.

Buffy pushed away and looked into his eyes, her own wet with tears. She reached out and touched his face gently. "I am so glad you are alright. I was so afraid that I was too late to save you, Riley…"

The way she said his name made his heart skip a beat. A smile lit up his face. "Well, I’m okay. We’re together." He held her hand. "And I will never let you go again."

But Buffy became somber. "He would’ve killed you. If I had been two seconds later…" Her eyes were full of fear at the thought.

"But you weren’t, Buffy. I’m just fine…" A thought occurred to him. "Oh no," he muttered, standing quickly.

Graham, who had been staring open-mouthed at the entire scene, finally managed to speak. He focused his eyes on Riley’s sudden panic. "What is it?" he asked urgently.

"That vamp," Riley began. "He told me his plan. Guess he thought I wouldn’t be around to stop it, so what the hell. He said…he said he sent his army out to certain homes around town. He was going to do away with everyone who posed a threat to him." He looked at Graham. "Graham…"

Graham thought a moment before a cloud of realization darkened his face. "No…" he said weakly, shaking his head slowly.

Like Riley, Graham lived on the outskirts of town. And no matter how hard it was not to run straight to Graham’s house, all the other targeted houses were closer and on the way. So they stopped at each one, only to find the vamps hiding in the shadows, looking towards the sky, unaware of the imminent death awaiting them in the form of three ticked off demon killers in a hurry.

The three of them easily slayed the clueless vamps as they waited for the signal that never came. Where once were big dreams of death and mayhem, there now remained small piles of dust blowing away in the breeze.

The scene was the same at every house they came upon. The vamps sat in the same position-crouched in the shadows, eyes to the sky, oblivious to their surroundings. Stupid creatures.

For which all three were grateful. Because as they ran towards Graham’s house, they were certain that they would find the vamps in the same condition. At least they hoped.

The young vamp looked nervously at his watch. 11:26pm. The signal should have been given by now. It was unlike Drake to be so late. Especially since he was such a tight-ass about everything.

"I say we just go in," the young vamp said impatiently to his partner. "We should’ve been done by now."

His partner glared at him. "We can’t. Drake said…"

But the kid interrupted. "I know what Drake said. But maybe something happened. I mean, maybe he got sidetracked or something and expects us to take some initiative."

"Did someone say ‘Initiative’?"

The two vamps turned towards the voice, startled. Two men and a woman stood behind them. They were not amused.

The young vamp stood to run, but Graham grabbed him and plunged the stick into his chest, watching with satisfaction as he fell to dust. Riley had taken care of the other one, who had put up no fight at all.

"Willow," Graham muttered and bolted around the house to the front door. "Willow!" he called loudly.

But Willow was in the living room. She had sat up waiting after the kids had gone to bed. She couldn’t sleep without Graham next to her.

"Oh, thank God," Graham whispered into her hair, holding her close.

He pushed away, held her at arm’s length. "Are you okay? How are the kids? Are they alright?" he asked frantically.

Looking at him in confusion, she replied, "We’re fine. Everyone’s fine. Honey, what hap…?" But her voice trailed off suddenly as she saw two figures in the doorway. Two very familiar figures.

She pushed past Graham gently, slowly walking closer to the door. Oh my God.

"Buffy? Is that you?" she asked almost inaudibly, barely able to make a sound. Her heart pounded in her chest.

And as Buffy stepped into the light, closer to her best friend, Willow thought she would faint. The two women stared at each other a moment longer before reaching out and enclosing each other in a tight embrace. Willow didn’t question, didn’t tempt the fates. She was just glad to have her friend back. That’s all that mattered.

"Aunt Willow? What’s going on?" a small voice asked from the top of the stairs. Michael stood there, rubbing his eyes. But when he saw Riley standing near the door, he perked up. "Daddy!" he squealed, running down the stairs and to his father.

Riley kneeled to meet his little boy’s embrace, Michael almost disappearing into his arms. "See, I told you I’d be okay," he said softly, smiling against his son’s hair.

Michael pushed away and studied Riley’s face. "You’re bleeding," he said matter-of-factly, seeing the blood on Riley’s mouth.

"Oh, this?" Riley said, motioning to his fat lip. "This is just a little scratch. It doesn’t even hurt." He smiled widely at Michael.

"Michael," Buffy managed, her voice hoarse. She had stood staring silently at the little boy since he ran down the stairs to Riley. Her little boy. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. It had been so long since she had seen him last. This was her son, her flesh and blood.

Looking up at her, Michael surveyed her curiously. "Who are you?" he asked innocently.

Buffy couldn’t speak. What could she say if she could speak? How could she explain it?

She kneeled down next to Riley, at eye-level with her son. He was so beautiful, just like his father. But he had gotten one thing from her. His eyes. It was like looking into her own. Tears slid slowly down her face as she carefully touched her hand to his cheek. She tried to smile.

"Mikey," Riley said softly, taking Michael’s hand in one of his and Buffy’s in the other. He squeezed them both firmly, still amazed that Buffy was there next to him. "Remember when I told you about your mother?" He looked at his son closely, making sure he was listening.

Michael moved his eyes back and forth between Buffy and Riley. At the present moment, they were focused on his father. He nodded gently. "You said that she couldn’t be with us but that she was watching over us."

"That’s right," Riley answered, nodding in return. "Well," he said, looking briefly at Buffy and smiling. "She came back. This lady is your mom. She’s here to see you."

Michael turned his attention to the teary-eyed lady in front of him. He seemed to think about his father’s words. He smiled at Buffy. "You’re pretty," he said sweetly.

Buffy started sobbing as she grasped her son tightly in her arms. She had never held him before and she couldn’t believe how wonderful it felt just to touch him.

Riley was filled with an immense sense of contentment as he watched mother and son together. Finally.

Michael was snug in his own bed. Buffy and Riley stood in his bedroom doorway, watching him sleep. She was trying to make up in one night for every lost moment of the last five years.

Riley stood behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders. He kissed the top of her head gently. "He’ll be here tomorrow. I promise," he whispered, smiling.

She tilted her face towards his. "I know. It’s just…" she said, her voice trailing off.

"I know. You were the same way with Emma. We both were." He sighed at the memory.

But the mention of their daughter’s name elicited a totally different response in Buffy. She began trembling uncontrollably. "Emma…"

She turned from the doorway. If all her elation of being with her husband and son, she had forgotten about her daughter. The daughter she left behind.

"What’s the matter?" Riley asked gently, coming up behind her.

When she turned to face him, her eyes were rimmed with tears. "I couldn’t let you die, Riley. I just couldn’t…" She grasped his shirt tightly in her fists.

Riley grabbed her shoulders firmly, looking into her eyes deeply. "Buffy, calm down. Tell me what’s wrong."

She paused, silent except for the sounds of her sniffles. Then she whispered, "I left her behind, Riley. I left Emma." She pushed away and walked into their bedroom, plopping down on the bed.

Riley stood in the doorway, watching as his wife slid to the floor, her face in her hands. He wanted to run to run to her, to hold her in his arms. But he didn’t think it would help. Buffy needed to work this out herself. So he didn’t move or say a word.

"The Oracles…they showed me the future. I watched you die, Riley. Then they told me that I could go back, that they would give me my life back." She looked at her husband wearily. "But I had to leave Emma behind. They wouldn’t let me take her with me." Her eyes were sad, empty.

Walking slowly into the bedroom, Riley kneeled in front of his suffering wife. He smoothed her hair softly. "She’s okay, Buffy. I know she is."

Buffy looked at him doubtfully. "How can she be, Riley? There’s no one there to take care of her. I abandoned her…" She stared to sob again uncontrollably.

Riley held her to him, his arms surrounding her protectively. He didn’t know how to comfort her. He was at a loss. But he found solace in the fact that Buffy leaned into him and sobbed quietly into his chest. She needed him. And as long as she did, Riley would be there for her.

Buffy had finally fallen asleep. She had continued to cry quietly for a long time, even after Riley lifted her onto the bed. He sat up, leaning against the headboard, wide awake. Buffy rested her head against his chest, her breathing slow and deep.

He was glad she was asleep. She had been so distraught about Emma. He had listened to her cry, had held her gently until she fell asleep. But he feared that her slumber wasn’t very restful. Periodically, she would shake and grab his hand tightly, but she did not awaken.

Riley hoped that she didn’t regret her decision to come back. He didn’t fully understand how it all came about, but it didn’t matter. He had her back and he would never let her go again. He hoped that Buffy would be happy to be with him again, to have another chance. She had acted as though she was happy to see him when they had had reunited earlier. But tonight, after the dust settled and the excitement died down, she had been so shaken. So fragile. As though she would never forgive herself for leaving their daughter behind.

Wrapping his arms around her tightly, he sighed heavily. To tell the truth, Riley understood. He had felt the same way. He knew the feeling of letting someone down. After he had lost them all those years ago, he couldn’t get past the guilt. He knew in his mind that it wasn’t his fault, but in his heart, he felt as though he should have done something more to protect them. That guilt was what had drawn him to visit their graves every night, to try to look for peace in the bottom of a bottle.

But he had moved on. He had been given a chance to redeem himself. And his redemption lay sleeping down the hall. In Michael, Riley had found a reason and a purpose. And though Michael could never replace Emma, he had helped to make the void in Riley’s heart less empty. Riley hoped that, in time, Michael could do the same for Buffy.

He looked down at his wife. God, how he loved her. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her again. Not after getting her back. He would never understand what he had done in his life to deserve so many second chances, but he was eternally grateful. And he was determined not to do anything to turn the tide against him.

Stirring, Buffy opened her eyes. She looked up to find Riley staring at her. Right away, he noticed something different about her. She had a peace behind her eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes.

Buffy nodded silently. Despite her newfound serenity, her eyes still contained a hint of sadness. But Riley was encouraged by the clarity he saw in her gaze.

"Buffy," he began slowly, looking deeply into her eyes. "I know it’s hard to be without Emma. Believe me, I know. But…"

Pressing a finger to his lips, Buffy quieted him. She smiled slightly. "She’s okay, Riley. I saw her."

"You did?" he asked.

She nodded. "Just now. In my dream. She’s happy, Riley. She’s with my mom." Buffy gazed at her husband through the moonlight, her eyes wide.

Riley sat up straight, his own eyes intense. "Your mom? Buffy, what are you saying?"

Reaching for his hand, Buffy grasped it firmly. She looked into his eyes and said in a calm voice, "The Oracles said that in order for me to come back, not only did I have to leave Emma behind, but I had to choose who would take my place with them. A life for a life, they told me. But I couldn’t choose. So in my desperation to save you, I told them to take who they wanted." She paused, taking a breath. "Riley, they took my mom. She gave her life for mine."

He nodded slowly in comprehension. Joyce was gone. He studied Buffy closely, looking for signs of regret. He found none.

As Buffy leaned against him once again, Riley knew that everything would be alright.

The three people stood at the gravesite quietly-a little boy flanked by a man and a woman, each of which held one of his hands. He knew whose grave he was looking at. It belonged to his grandma. He had cried when his parents told him she had died. But they told him that she was okay, that she was with his big sister. That had made him feel better.

Buffy handed Michael two roses and watched as he walked over and set one gently on the grass in front of each headstone. One for his grandmother and one for his sister. He paused momentarily, seemingly saying a short prayer. Then he stood up and walked back over to Buffy, looking up at her with a smile. "Your turn, Mommy."

Smiling back at him, Buffy stepped forward, kneeling first in front of her mother’s grave. She closed her eyes, remembering. After her dream, Buffy had insisted on going to Joyce’s house. Riley had offered to go with her, but Buffy had explained that she needed to go alone. Her mom had given her life so that Buffy could live again. It was only right that she take care of her mom now.

Buffy had found her lying on the porch swing. She looked so peaceful, the corners of her mouth turned up in a slight smile. She looked like she was sleeping. But the two puncture marks on her neck told the truth. Buffy sat with her a while, lost in thought. She spoke to Joyce softly and prayed that Joyce could hear her. Then she had calmly called an ambulance and waited.

The funeral had been three weeks ago. Joyce was laid to rest next to Emma, where she belonged. Buffy touched her hand gently to the marble headstone, warm in the summer sun. "Thank you," she whispered.

Shifting to her left, she stared at the stone that marked her daughter’s grave. Buffy missed her terribly, but took comfort in knowing that Joyce would always be there to take care of her daughter. She laid the rose down on the grass and closed her eyes. "Goodbye, Emma. Mommy loves you."

Riley came and kneeled down next to her, taking her hand. Laying his rose down next to the other two, he said softly, "Don’t worry about us, Em. We’re okay. We all love you." He looked at Buffy and smiled.

His eyes fell upon Joyce’s headstone. A shiver traveled the length of his spine as he thought about how just a few short weeks ago, Buffy lay where Joyce now rested. He squeezed Buffy’s hand before standing and moving to Joyce’s grave. He laid the rose down gently and sighed. He pressed his fingers to his lips and touched them to the headstone gently. "I hope you’re happy where you are, Joyce. You deserve it. We love you."

Taking his wife’s hand again, they stood together and went to their son. As the three of them strolled out of the cemetery together, Buffy sighed. She was finally home.

 

The End