Part Three

There are those born into this world that see what others may not see. There are those born to this world that fight what others may not fight. And there are those born to this world that live what others may not live.

The first shall be the harbingers of Darkness. The second shall be the warriors against the Darkness. And the third shall live through the Darkness, and bring about a second Light.

The Book of Three, 539 A.D.

Buffy

Professor Walsh was giving me the oddest looks all through Psych. Maybe it was cause I was staring at Riley with narrowed eyes. Maybe it was cause he was staring at me with that "duh" look in his eyes, like he still hadn't recovered from the shock.

Maybe she was staring at Willow, who had been crying all night and looked kinda splotchy.

Later, I found out why she was staring. I really hate it when my teachers turn out to be in league with whatever she was in league with. I'm still a little fuzzy on the whole concept of why she'd set up huge underground laboratories and recruited college students to capture demons and test them. I think it was some kind of revenge gig.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. And completely off subject.

I stopped by Riley on my way out of class. "So, did you think about my offer?" I asked. He glanced at Professor Walsh, at which point I began to suspect the Psych teacher wasnąt all that she was cracked up to be. Or maybe she was more.

"I can't tell you anything," he said. He glanced the professor again. I sighed, turned and marched over to her.

"Okay, maybe you know nothing about this and I'm making a fool of myself, but going by Riley's not-so-subtle signals and the fact you've been staring at me for the last hour, I'm guessing you're the one to threaten here," I told her, catching her cold eyes. Nothing passed across her face. Nothing passed across mine.

"I wouldn't try threatening me Ms. Summers," she warned cooly.

"What? You're going to give me a bad grade?" I asked sweetly. "I quake with fear. There are things going on in this town you can't possibly imagine. I need to know what you're doing." Professor Walsh glanced at Willow who was a few steps away, glaring at Riley. When I told her what happened she'd muttered something about lying bastards and how she'd known it all along. When I hesitantly agreed men were evil she started crying. "What I know she knows," I said, following her gaze. "So get on with it."

"Some of our guests' have spoken of a Slayer. We thought they were delusional from the drugs," Professor Walsh said calmly. "What precisely is a Slayer?"

"Uh-uh, you first," I instructed, amazed that this woman believed herself a menace to vampires. She'd never opened a book of prophecies in her life, had she? She gave me a sharp look.

"I don't think you're in a position to be dictating Ms. Summers. You apparently have something of ours. You will return it." I arched my eyebrows at her.

"Oh. I'm not in a position to dictate. I wouldn't send out any more men Professor. I patrol at night, and since I don't know your friends, I'll have to assume you're enemies. Ask any of your 'guests' what the Slayer does to her enemies."

I just loved the look on Riley's face. This is not amusing, I told myself. Stop being amused. I gave them my sweetest smile and stalked out of the room, Willow beside me. Then I got annoyed.

"Who do they think they are? I've spent four years giving up my social life to fight these things, and they think they can just waltz in and zap them? And not tell me?" I demanded.

"Very rude," Willow agreed.

"Rude? What's rude? You guys aren't talking about me, right?" Xander asked, appearing out of nowhere. Willow jumped.

"Xander, you know you're not supposed to sneak up on us Campus People. We don't have the skills of the wild anymore," I teased.

"What are you doing here?" Willow asked. "I thought you had a job digging."

"Oh. Right. Well, they're kind of reluctant to continue with that one since the murders and I was kinda reluctant to continue since the syphilis," he replied. "But really, I'm here to bring news of eminent doom!"

"You sound way too cheerful about that," I informed him, groaning inwardly. Not again.

"Do not!" he muttered defensively. Willow and I exchanged looks.

"Completely yes. But that's okay Xan," I assured him. "So, what's the sitch?"

"Giles just got a call from a mysterious source." I gave him a look. "okay, Angel, who apparently found a guy having visions which include Mohra demons and the words 'End of Days' ring any bells?" I nodded grimly.

"Does he need me now?"

"Nope, he's in G-Man mode, he just wanted you gals to be in the know."

"Thank you! I'll be a lot more comfortable at my classes knowing the world's gonna end!" I told him. He grinned.

"Glad to be of service. Now I gotta get back, help with the research. We have a world to save people!"

"Buh-bye!" I said, pushing him gently off and waving. Willow and I exchanged smiles and kept walking.

"Buffy, wait!" Riley's voice called. I turned, crossing my arms to regard him. He jogged up and stopped beside me. "I need to talk to you about Professor Walsh."

"Save it Riley," I told him, in no mood. "Unless you're ready to tell me everything, I've got more important things to worry about."

"More important things?" he asked, brushing his hair out of his face. My hands tightened involuntarily. I hate the way his bangs hang in his face like that. Get a haircut! I wanted to yell, but managed to restrain myself.

"Well, I personally would consider the end of the world a tad more important, but I guess it's all perspective huh?" I asked brightly, then grabbed Willow's arm and hurried away. This was not my day.

*****

"No, it's not enough time!" I cried, clinging to him for dear life.

"We don't have a choice, it's done," he said softly. My heart broken into a thousand pieces all over again.

"How am I supposed to go on with my life, knowing what we had? What we could have had?" I sobbed. I couldn't do it. I couldn't walk away and go back to Sunnydale, to college. After what we had, nothing would ever be the same. Nothing could ever equal that, or even come close.

"You won't," he told me. "No one will know but me." And that's almost worse, because I won't even have it. I won't even have the memory. I won't have the feeling of his pulse, or the taste of chocolate in his mouth, or the glorious feeling of laying in his arms, hearing his heartbeat.

I can't forget.

I won't let myself forget.

I sat up, gasping for breath, and turned to look at the clock. 3:47. Willow was still fast asleep in her bed. I threw off the covers and slipped out of bed, walking silently over to the dresser and pulling out a pair of workout pants and a sweatshirt. I left a stake on my pillow, so Willow would know where I was if she woke up, twisted my hair up with a second, and tucked a third into my wrist sheath.

The halls of the dorm were dark. I glanced at the elevator and took the stairs instead. Images of Angel flashed in my mind. No. Bad. Not thinking about that. It's just a dream.

But it didn't feel like just a dream.

I emerged into the cool night air and paused, glancing around. The campus was quiet. I wondered if Professor Walsh had taken my threat seriously. I almost hoped not. I could really use someone to beat up. That's terrible! I told myself firmly. I might have to fight other humans, but I shouldn't enjoy it. I could really use some demons to beat up, I amended.

As it turned out, I got my wish.

Angel

I took him back to the apartment and called Doyle and Cordelia. Doyle arrived a half hour later. Cordelia took an hour and a half.

"Good of you to come," I said when she walked in the door. She glared at me.

"I hate this job!" she muttered. "What is it now?"

"We've got an Apocalypse on our hands," I told her quietly. She groaned.

"Not again! You couldn't tell me this before I paid like three months rent in advance?" I eyed her silently. She shook her head and sat down.

"So how do you know this anyway?"

"There's a prophet downstairs with Doyle. He's seen visions of it."

"Oooh, now we come equipped with visions."

"Cordelia."

"Okay okay, what do you need?" she asked in her perpetually annoyed tone.

"I want you to take notes on his story and then type it up. And remember the details."

"Remember the details," Cordelia muttered, grabbing a pad of paper. I followed her into the elevator and down to the apartment. Doyle and John were sitting on the couch. John was staring at his shaking hands.

"How's it going?" I asked, sitting down opposite them.

"John was just telling me about his kids," Doyle said evenly. I figured it would be best if he waited with the man. He had some experience with visions, after all.

"This is your prophet?" Cordelia demanded. I gave her a warning look and she flopped into a chair. "Can we get on with it please? I'm missing my beauty sleep here."

"Could you tell us again about your visions?" I asked, leaning forward to regard him intently. He nodded, swallowing nervously.

"I-it all started about three weeks ago. One day in the middle of lunch I was somewhere else."

"Where?"

"I donąt know, but it was everything was on fire. All the buildings were burning, and there were people everywhere, dead bodies. I looked up and saw a-a monster. It had wings, and scales and it was going to kill me. And then I was back at the table, and my friend was asking me what was wrong."

"When did the next one come?"

"Five days later. I was getting ready for bed. This one was more detailed. I looked up at the sky, but it was gone there was just black. The sun was gone. The whole sky was empty. And there were things flying around, horrible things. They were carrying people, and body parts. And then I woke up again. The next one was three days later. It was somewhere else and instead of fire, it was ice. Everything was ice. Everyone was frozen, and monsters were eating them. One of them looked straight at me, and laughed " He broke off, shuddering. I waited, wondering what it was like to live with these kind of visions.

He took a deep breath and finally continued. "They got more and more frequent. I couldn't function anymore. Even when I wasn't having visions, I would hear these voices in my head, saying that the End of Days is coming. I would look at someone, and see their death in my mind. I had to warn them, but no one listens. Why do you listen?" he asked suddenly, looking up to meet my eyes.

"Because we have to," I said. "Because someone has to stop it."

Go to Part 4