Creative Works   

Forgotten Beginnings (Part 2)
By ~Alissa~
zephyr4682(at)hotmail.com

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, Willow, Xander, Oz, Giles, or any of the characters contained in this story. These characters are the copyright of Joss Whedon, the WB, and Mutant Enemy. Also, scenes were taken directly from Becoming that I did not create, but that were written by the creators of Buffy. No infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: I would like to thank my researcher for all the help she’s given me. If you would like to contact me, email me at zephyr4682(at)hotmail.com, or email her at Pixie5482(at)aol.com I appreciate your comments and feedback.

. . .

Suddenly, Angel let go of Buffy’s wrists and slid to his knees. Buffy, too weak to stand, collapsed with him, and passed out.

Something was wrong. He couldn’t figure out how he got here. The last he remembered, he had been sleeping next to Buffy, and then, all of a sudden, he was here. It felt as if a hundred years had passed since then, but there was something blocking his memory.

Looking up from his knees, he saw Buffy slumped against a car, blood running down her neck.

"Oh God," he breathed, as he rushed to her side. He placed his hand to her wound, hoping to stop the bleeding. This wasn’t quite right. Something had happened here tonight…something that was all his fault.

As if a bright light peeked around the darkest corners of his mind, thoughts and memories poured over him. Then came the pain. He could still feel the extensive hate, and remember the torture he had put everyone through.

A picture of Ms. Calendar flashed into his head…Willow…Mrs. Summers…

Buffy.

Oh God, what had he done to her?

Drawing himself closer to her, and resting her head against his chest, he applied more pressure on her neck, and whispered fiercely in her ear.

"Come on, Buffy…" he bit back his tears as the memories of the past stabbed into his heart. "Pull out of this…Don’t you die on me…Don’t you dare leave me…Not like this."

Buffy lay motionless in his arms.

. . .

"Lay her down…over there." Giles pointed to the table. Xander carefully rested Willow down, propping her head up with his gym shirt.

"Uh, Giles…when’s she gonna wake up?" Xander asked as he walked toward him. "Cause she’s not supposed to do that. I mean, first her eyes go all funny, then she starts chanting…I'm pretty sure Willow doesn’t know Latin. So, I'd like to know when she’s gonna wake up…"

"Xander!" Giles snapped at him. His temper began to flare as memories of Ehygon flooded into his head. "I don’t know when she’ll wake up, or even if she’ll wake up! What I do know is that I don’t know what just happened and that I'm as much in the dark about this as you! So if you could just sit down, and stop asking questions, maybe I'll be able to figure this out!"

Xander looked back at Cordelia, then to Giles. When had he ever lost his temper in the face of a crisis like that? Suddenly, Xander remembered shuffling through all of Giles’ papers and files, searching for anything about Ethan Rayne, and why he was upsetting Giles. What he had found was startling: the risen spirit of a long forgotten demon, conjured up by the, now so cautious, Watcher.

Xander sat down next to Cordelia and watched Giles carefully.

"Maybe we should move her out of here." Kendra spoke up from her watch post by the library door. The sound startled Giles; he had forgotten she was there.

"Dat way she’ll be out of de paths of de dark forces in dis room."

"Yes…" Giles looked at her. "Yes, I suppose you’re right. Xander, grab her things. Cordelia, take a few of my books and my glasses, and follow Kendra." Giles took off his jacket and handed it to Xander, who was watching him anxiously. Sliding his hands under Willow, and bracing himself, he lifted her from the table.

"Go to the teacher’s lounge," his voice was strained under the obvious weight of Willow. "There’s a couch we can use. Get some…some rags, and water for her."

"Right. We’re gone." Xander ushered Cordelia and Kendra from the room.

Giles groaned. He hadn’t lifted someone like this since Emily.

. . .

Angel struggled to find the pulse in Buffy’s wrist. It was there, beating faintly, screaming out that this body was still alive and I need of help.

He took off his shirt, careful not to remove his hand from Buffy’s neck for too long. Putting the cuff in his mouth, and making use of only one hand, he pulled at the shirt, satisfied by the sound of threads ripping. Grabbing the cloth tighter, he gave a final yank, and the sleeve dropped into his lap.

"Damn French shirts," he mused. "They always did tear easy."

Propping her against the car, Angel carefully tied the sleeve around Buffy’s neck, putting just enough pressure so that he could have free use of his hand.

Wiping the blood on his pants, he carefully lifted Buffy off of the ground, her head falling limp over his arm. Dismayed, he struggled to keep her head nestled in the crook of his elbow, as he ran from the graveyard.

. . .

"Get a blanket…over there." Giles took the quilt from Xander and laid it carefully over Willow. "Cordelia…the water."

Grabbing the bowl and a rag, Cordelia walked over to the couch, waiting as Giles got up to let her sit. Soaking the rag, she rolled it up and gently began to draw the water across Willow’s forehead.

Staring at the still body of Willow, his vision blurring slightly, Giles addressed the air.

"I never should have let her try this." Xander jumped to his feet and stared at Giles’ back.

"Hey, Giles…this is not your fault. You didn’t what would happen." Letting the tears flow, Giles looked down at his hands.

"I did…I knew before…I let them take my Emily." Uttering a sob, Giles ran from the room, slamming the door behind him. Cordelia, Xander, and Kendra stared at each other, confused by what had just happened. Suddenly, Willow began to mumble. Xander glanced sharply at her.

"Cordelia, what’s she saying?"

"I don’t know. I can’t hear her." She listened for a minute, and called out the words as she heard them.

"Rock…rock the boat?"

"It’s door. She’s saying ‘lock de door.’" Kendra announced. Xander looked at her, worried.

"Why would she say that?" Just then, Giles rushed back into the room.

"Lock the doors!" he ordered, breathless. "Cordelia, get the windows…Kendra help Xander push the snack machine in front of the door. I'll get this one." No one moved. "Don’t look at me as if I'm a raving loony!" he screamed, frustrated by their ignorance. "Just do it!"

They sprang into action, and Giles sighed, pushing his own problems aside to deal with a new one…

Druscilla.

. . .

Bursting through the double doors, and pushing past two orderlies, Angel hurried down the hallway, noticing just how pale Buffy was under the harsh hospital lights. He didn’t get to see her too often in the light.

"Whoa, son…slow down." A doctor stopped him, placing his hand in front of Angel’s chest. "This is a hospital, you know."

Angel bit back his sarcasm. "Doctor, she’s lost a lot of blood. Where can I take her?" he questioned, feeling the minutes slip away like water.

"Oh goodness…" the doctor glanced at the saturated sleeve around Buffy’s neck. Stepping aside, he pointed down the hall. "Take a right there, go straight to the elevators, and get off on the second floor. I'll have people waiting for you."

Angel hardly waited for the doctor to finish his sentence as he ran down the hall, and rounded the corner.

Watching him carefully, the doctor rushed to the nearest phone. He couldn’t help but wonder why Angel wasn’t out of breath.

. . .

Giles braced himself as he pushed the chair against the main door. That should do it. Two lounge chairs, a large table, and a bookcase should hold them out.

"Hey, Giles…" Xander muttered as he held up an open candy bar. "Look! Free-be!"

Giles was unsure of whether he should smack Xander. How in the world could he possibly joke at a time like this?

"Xander, you fool!" he whispered forcibly. "Don’t you know that our lives hang on the thread of mortal danger, and there you sit, happily munching on a mal-o-mar!" he spat. Xander was stunned, but furious.

"Well maybe if you told us what the hell is going on around here!"

"Don’t you dare get angry with me!" Giles screamed, unable to control his temper. "I'm doing everything I can! If that’s not good enough, then get the hell out of my sight! But I do not want to be held responsible for your death! So unless you would like to run out into the awaiting arms of Druscilla, I suggest you sit down, shut up, and do as your told!"

Xander’s rage disappeared as he recognized the perilous situation they were facing. He sat on the couch next to Willow.

"Druscilla’s out dere?" Kendra questioned anxiously as she stood in front of Giles. "Den I should face her." She moved toward the front door, determination etched in her features. Cordelia grabbed her arm.

"Are you crazy? She’ll kill you!"

"Kendra, Cordelia’s right…"

"And that doesn’t happen too often." Xander chimed in, interrupting the conversation. Giles glared at him for a moment before turning back to Kendra.

"You don’t know Druscilla well enough. She’s insane..." Giles stared intently at her. "She’ll kill you before you have a chance…please, don’t make me responsible for any more deaths…especially that of the slayer."

"I myust do dis, sir. It is my duty."

"I can’t let you, Kendra." Giles tried to stop her, but she pushed past him. "Kendra! As your informal Watcher, I order you to stay here!"

"I am sorry, sir. I cannot. It is my duty. I myust kill Druscilla. Besides, if I die, another will take my place."

"Jesus, Kendra. You’re sixteen. Don’t be stupid."

"Stupid, sir?" She straightened her back in arrogance. "I do not know how to be stupid." Giles rubbed his forehead.

"Yes, well, you’re rapidly learning." He looked up at Xander. Grabbing a marble book-stop, Xander smashed it into Kendra’s head. Instantly, she crumbled to the floor. Xander and Cordelia stared at Giles, uncertainty gleaming in their eyes. Giles refrained from looking at either of them, and stared at the unconscious slayer on the floor.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered.

. . .

Angel pushed the emergency stop button in the elevator. Laying Buffy gently on the ground, he cleared her hair from under her. Expectantly, he strolled over to the phone, which had begun to ring, and ripped it from the wall. Stepping gently on the railing, he balanced himself and clenched his hand. Bracing himself, he smashed his fist into the light. Shattered glass showered to the floor, and Angel quickly rushed to cover Buffy’s body with his own to protect her, suffering most of the onslaught of electrical sparks. Finding it safe to release her, he carefully untied the sleeve around her neck. He removed it slowly, careful not to tear away her skin, and laid it next to him. Grabbing a large shard of glass, he found the sharpest edge.

"I'm sorry, love." he whispered. Slowly, he drew the point of the glass across her neck, between the two holes his teeth had made. …

. . .

Page 2 of 4
Read the next part >>

. . .

Fanfiction Index