A couple of authors notes before I begin:
I open my eyes carefully, trying to ignore the pounding in my head. You'd
think I'd be used to it by now. After all, it is an occupational hazard.
I can't remember what hit me, but whatever it was it had been hard and very
well directed and my head feels like it wants to fall off.
<*So. Open eyes. Slowly.> < It's dark. That's good. I'm not ready for light yet. Where am I? The
Mansion. Angel's Mansion. Oh....................... Angel's Mansion.
Now I remember. > Unwillingly, I turn my head to look for the statue. Surely there must be
some evidence of the terrible thing I've just done. I can remember it so
clearly, replaying like a technicolour movie in my head. I can see Angel as he came back to me, crumpling to his knees with such a
lost, confused expression on his face. And behind him, I can see the
vortex spinning open, ready to swallow the world. He looked at me with so
much love, so much trust, obediently closing his eyes when I asked him to.
And I drove my sword through his gut, sending him to Hell. My beautiful,
precious, beloved Angel came back to me and I sent him to Hell. I claw my way into a sitting position, but I can't bear to look. Instead,
I just let my head fall to my knees as I start to cry. Huge, gasping sobs
that aren't nearly enough to encompass my grief or absolve my guilt. I jump, startled, when a hand falls on my shoulder and a worried voice
says, "Buffy?" I lift my head to look at him, aware of the tears still falling down my
cheeks. There's a young man standing there with a concerned expression and
perfect good looks, marred only by a growing bruise on one cheek - if you
like the sweet, wholesome, All-American Boy kind of look, which I don't.
Unfortunately, he doesn't look like he's going to go away. "Who the hell
are you?" I rasp, just wanting him to leave. He looks like I just slapped him in the face. "Buffy?"
I return my face to my knees, this time wrapping my arms around my legs as
well, as if being all curled up into myself like this might make me feel
safer, better. It doesn't, of course. And I don't deserve that it should.
"Just go away and leave me alone," I say in a muffled voice. But he doesn't. Instead, I hear footsteps coming closer, the feeling of
someone crouching down in front of me, and two strong hands close on my
shoulders. "Buffy, I'm sorry for what I said, what I did. Please, what's
wrong?" There's a pause, then he adds firmly, "Look at me, Buffy." I can't fight that voice, can't shut it out like I want to, to be left
alone with my grief. So instead I look up and I see, blurred by my tears,
not the farm-boy's face, but the most beautiful, precious face I have ever
known. I gasp, and stare some more, waiting for this mirage to disappear. "Buffy," Angel says again. "Buffy, what's wrong?"
"You're here," I whisper. "You're really here." "I'm here," he says soothingly. "Although you weren't very happy about that
earlier." His words don't make any sense to me. His presence doesn't make any sense
to me. "But how are you here?" I ask, almost afraid to hear the answer.
"I sent you to Hell." "Well, yes, you did," he agrees with that lopsided, quirky smile I love so
much. "But I came back again, too. Remember?" I don't remember. I don't remember anything of the kind. But I don't
really care. It's beginning to sink in. Somehow, my Angel is here,
touching me, worrying about me and all I can think is how much I love him. He offers me his hand and pulls me to my feet and I stare at him a momentlonger, just to be sure he isn't suddenly going to disappear again. He
doesn't, and with a hiccupy kind of gasp I throw myself into his arms and
start to cry again. But this time it's against the hard, familiar planes
of his chest. After a moment's hesitation his arms close around me and he
kisses my hair, murmuring, "It's all right. I'm here. Everything's fine." And I believe him. * ** *** ** *
"What's going on?" A petulant voice breaks in on me, one that I identify
as belonging to the farm boy. "I'm not sure, but I do have an idea." Now that's a voice I recognise. I
turn in Angel's arms to see Giles looking at me with a thoughtful,
Watcher-type look. Although he isn't exactly dressed in his Watcher
uniform. No tweed at all, instead jeans and a purplish sweater that
actually make him look sort of handsome, in an old kind of way.
He walks over to us, still with that researcher expression of his face.
"Buffy, what's the last thing you remember?" he asks me. I stare, thrown by what seems to be a stupid question. "We were going to
rescue you," I answer. "I was going to kill Angelus and ... and ..." I
close my eyes as I remember. "And Angel came back and it was too late..."
My voice cracks and Angel's arms tighten around me. He brushes his lips
against my hair again, whispering softly, "Shhh. It's all right." "And then I had to kill him," I finish brokenly, barely managing to get the
words out. "Oh Buffy," Giles says softly. And then he adds, very, very gently, "That
was two years ago." He reaches out to touch my forehead and I flinch at
the soft brush of his fingers. "You have some kind of amnesia, Buffy.
Most likely caused by head trauma when An... when something hit you." "Two years..." I say in confusion. "But I don't remember..."
"Two years," Angel confirms quietly. "But everything's going to be okay." And again, I believe him.
* ** *** ** * We go back to Giles' apartment - me and Angel and Giles and the other guy,
whose name I still don't know. And when we get there, I find more of my
friends there. There's Willow, and she does look older, like she's growing
up in ways different to me. There's a girl I don't recognise sitting on
the couch beside her and I wonder where Oz is, but decide it might be
better not to ask. Xander jumps to his feet when we come in, and there's
another unknown girl left behind in the chair when he moves. There's
something not quite right about her, but right now I'm too unsettled to
worry about it. Xander stops halfway across the room and looks more carefully at the group
of us. "Huh?" he mutters. Willow nods. "What's going on?" she asks in a worried voice. "Buffy has amnesia," Giles says matter-of-factly. "She's lost the last two years." "Wow," Willow whispers softly. "Oh...wow." "There's a spell," Willow's friend says carefully, as if she doesn't want
to intrude too much. "To restore the memory. We could try that." Willow looks over at her with a smile and nods. "Yeah, we could do that."
Giles looks dubious, but nods slowly. I stay close to Angel, grateful for the protection of his arms around me in
the midst of all this confusion. The farm boy clearly isn't happy about this. "What's happening?" he
demands. He glares at Angel. "I thought he was supposed to be the bad
guy. I'm the good guy, remember? I'm your boyfriend." I blink. < Boyfriend? How can this... this person be my boyfriend? He must
have got knocked on the head too. > I remember the bruise on his face. < He
did get knocked on head. He's hallucinating. That explains it. > "Riley..." Giles begins warningly, but he doesn't listen.
Instead, he holds out a hand to me. "Come here," he demands and I
instinctively shrink even further into Angel's embrace. And then Angel does something very out of character for him. He shifts
into his vampire face and growls at my supposed-boyfriend. Obviously, he
doesn't like this Riley person very much. And I can't believe that I do.
Whatever happened to my taste? "Buffy's _my_ girlfriend," Riley repeats stubbornly, but he's backed up
several paces to put more distance between himself and Angel. I stare at him, then I laugh. "No way am I your girlfriend. Not in a
million years. I'm Angel's girl. Always." I feel Angel move convulsively behind me and I look up to see his face
human again, this look of huge, enormous pain in his eyes. Seeing me
watching he closes his eyes, and when he opens them again it's gone. But
it was there. "Suddenly, I don't think I want to remember," I say in a subdued voice. "You need to," Giles insists. "There are things you need to remember to function properly - and safely - as the Slayer." "But..." I try to protest.
"He's right," Angel says in a pained voice. "You need to remember. Let
Willow and Tara do the spell." And what can I do at that but nod. * ** *** ** *
I feel like something has ripped though me, tearing down walls in my soul,
dragging into the light things that have been lost in the dark. And it
hurts. If this is magic, I don't want any more of it. And then memories, old, lost and newly rediscovered memories, settle into
place and I feel so much emotion inside me I can't imagine how it isn't
spilling out and making gooey puddles all over Giles' floor. I open my eyes to see Angel looking at me, watching me with a guarded
expression as if he expects me to suddenly hate him. I drink in the sight of him, every precious, wonderful detail, and suddenly
I can see him, outlined by the sun, more beautiful than ever. "You were human," I whisper in amazement. "You were human. We broke the
table and ate ice-cream in bed. We kissed in the sun. I felt your heart
beat." I reach out a hand to touch his chest, feeling no movement there
now. "I felt your heart beat," I repeat softly. "And I forgot. I swore I
would never, ever forget, but I did. I forgot," I finished brokenly. "You remember now," he answers. "We had a perfect day and now we both
remember. That's a blessing." "Just one day," I say sadly, remembering the feel of his skin on mine, so
warm and alive. "And never again." "Never is a very long time, young one," a new voice says suddenly and we
all turn to see who has spoken. There is a woman standing beside Giles' door. She's not a demon, but she's
just as clearly not human. My new memories of the day that went away tell
me what she is - she's one of the Oracles. <*But whatever is she doing in
Giles' apartment?> As if she can read my mind - maybe she can read my mind - she looks at me.
"Like Achilles, everything has its escape clause, even our taking back of
the day," she says steadily. I stare at her, wondering who the hell
Achilles is, and she almost smiles as if I amuse her but it would be
beneath her to show it. "Yours was this," she continues, "that if you
should ever remember the day we took back, his curse would be broken." I start, not daring to believe what I am hearing, and she lifts her gaze to
Angel. "You will remain a vampire - we will not give up our Warrior," she
says in a stern voice. But then it softens a little. "Your soul is yours
now, and you will find your strength to fight the demon within you will
grow and grow. That is the best we are permitted to give."
Finally, she looks back at me. "And little Slayer, your friends were
right. You do need to remember." She raises her hand, and even across the
room I feel the brush of her fingertips across my face. And then she is
gone, as mysteriously as she came. And now I remember it all. The last two years, the separation, the
stupidity. All the messes and mistakes I have made. And Riley. So I do the only thing I can. I turn to him, to find him looking at me
with a hopeful expression on his round, too-sweet face. "I'm sorry,
Riley," I say softly and I turn and bury my face against Angel's chest,
knowing I have finally found my way home. * ** *** ** * I will remember you Send feedback to Kerry Blackwell
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1. I haven't seen ANY of season 4, so while I don't think I've screwed up
anything major, apologies if I have and please tell me nicely.
2. This is _very_ fluffy - that's what Elizabeth wanted. Actually, I was
surprised myself at how fluffy it turned out to be.
3. If you can, pretty please go and take a look at this on my website
Okay, the challenge:
<
Elizabeth>>
SUMMARY: Elizabeth's Challenge as shown above
SPOILERS: Becoming Part 2, I Will Remember You, guessing about The Yoko
Factor and Sanctuary
DISCLAIMER: All things Buffy belong to Joss Whedon, the WB, FOX and Mutant
Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. I only own my genius (yeah,
right!!)
RATING: G or PG
FEEDBACK: Please...
DISTRIBUTION: My site () or you
can ask
NOTES: <*thoughts>, _emphasis_
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories