Creative Works   

The Return
By Little Slayer
little_slayer(at)hotmail.com

Summary: Buffy finds herself in a very, very bad place.
Disclaimer: I don’t own him! Uh, her. Or Buffy, Angel, Giles, Willow, Joyce, and everyone else. They’re all in here. I don’t own Angel’s nickname of Peaches. The only thing I own is Mya. She’s mine. I created her. And so I can easily destroy the skanky little…uh, oops. All the Buffyverse people belong to Joss Whedon and anyone else who legally owns them. Anybody who has been either A) mentioned on BtVS, or B) seen on BtVS, I don’t own. I do own a few people but am too tired to name them.
Distribution: Anyone can have it. Just ask.
Author's Notes: Sequel to The End. *(*(* LINK THIS????*)*)*)
Feedback: If you don’t send feedback, I’ll sick Faith on you like a dog on a bone. Or in her case a dog on a…okay, I’m not going to finish that, but you all get the point. Actually, no, I can't sick her on you because of one really important reason.

. . .

Prologue

Buffy opened her eyes and stretched lazily on her new bed. She had the most wonderful dream that night; she had gotten out of hell, killed Mya, and then made passionate love to Angel. She smiled at the thought of all three then looked at her surroundings. She was in a dark gray room with black and red furnishings. It was a very nice looking place that she stayed in, and if it weren’t for the screams of torture victims, she almost could’ve believed she wasn’t in hell. But she was, and because of Mya, it had been for almost three hundred years. And to top it off, she was with Angelus. Buffy rolled her eyes at the thought of the annoying demon and thought back to when she first arrived.

. . .

Buffy fell through the vortex. Patches of color surrounded her. One moment, she was in pitch black and then next was surrounded by bright orange and green. She closed her eyes and then hit the ground in a painful thud. Taking in a deep breath, she lay still with her eyes still closed. She stayed like that for a moment until a familiar voice rang through the air.

“Okay, I know this is hell and all, but this, this is too mean,” Angelus muttered. Buffy looked up at him in all of his leather panted glory.

“Oh, shit,” Buffy hissed. “I’m so going to kill that bitch.”

“Nice language, Slayer,” Angelus commented. “And by the way, welcome to hell.”

“Hell?” Buffy repeated. “How did I get here?”

“I’m guessing it had something to do with Kelvac there,” Angelus said and gestured towards the demon’s carcass. Buffy looked with a raised eyebrow. “He wasn’t the smartest demon, but he did know a little magic. Which is very surprising for a giant worm.”

“He knew magic?” Buffy repeated. Angelus nodded and extended a hand to help Buffy up. Warily, she looked at him, then took his hand and pulled herself onto her feet.

“Yeah,” Angelus replied, then looked Buffy over. “Like the outfit, but the way.” Buffy looked down at her white tank-top, black leather pants, and tall boots.

“Well, you inspired it,” she tossed at him.

“Hmmm, I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not,” he said as if talking to himself. “Well, Kelvac had it so if he died, two vortex’s would open. I’m not exactly sure how you managed to sucked in the second one.”

“Mya pushed me, the stupid little bitch,” Buffy hissed.

“Mya?” Angelus asked.

“Why the hell do you care?” Buffy asked all of a sudden. He chuckled and began to walk down what seemed to be a sidewalk. After noticing Buffy wasn’t following him, he stopped and motioned for her to follow. She started to walk and was soon at his side.

“When Angel was down here, and we were still one body, there was a demon named Schlep. He had been the gatekeeper for many decades and was getting bored. So he arranged for Angel to be released and separate the two of us. I’m not sure why, but he chose me to replace him.”

“Okay, you kinda lost me with the whole gatekeeper thing,” Buffy said.

“Um, the gatekeeper is the demon in charge of all who enter hell. I decide where they go, how much their tortured, and for how long. Schlep was the gatekeeper before me. He separated Angel and me and then passed it down to me.” They stopped in front of a door and Angelus knocked. “You entered through magic, and you’re a Slayer. What I’m supposed to do with you is beyond me.”

“Don’t you hate me or something?” Buffy asked. He shrugged and the door opened. A female vampire looked at him then at Buffy.

“Gatekeeper. Nice to see you. It’s been a while,” she said.

“Yes it has, Asja,” Angelus replied. “Is Crenshaw in?”

“Don’t know what to do with this one?” Asja asked, mocking him.

“She entered through a magic vortex,” Angelus replied.

“So, hasn’t stopped you before.”

“She’s a Slayer,” Angelus said. Asja’s eyes widened and she looked at Buffy.

“I’ll inform Crenshaw of your arrival. Please, enter,” Asja said and opened the door. Angelus entered followed by Buffy and Asja then closed the door. She bustled off to a room and went in.

“Funny, doesn’t fit my vision of hell,” Buffy said. A series of pitiful, painful screams erupted from down the street. “Okay, now it does.”

“He’s ready,” Asja said, suddenly coming out of the room. “He said to leave the Slayer in here and go in alone.” Buffy sat down in a chair and crossed her legs, waiting for Angelus to reappear and to figure out what she was going to do. After about ten or so minutes, Angelus exited with a scowl plastered on his face.

“He wants to see you, Buffy,” Angelus muttered unhappily and sat down in a chair by Buffy’s. Buffy stood up and walked into the office. A young looking man with pale blue skin and bright blue eyes sat at a desk in a black suit. His short white hair was clean and he had a friendly smile.

“Hello Buffy,” the man said. “I’m Cryack Crenshaw. You can call me Crenshaw.” He stood and extended a long fingered hand. Buffy stood tall and eyed him carefully, in full Slayer mode. “Do not be afraid Slayer. Please, sit, relax.” He sat back down and gestured to a comfortable looking chair.

“I’ll sit, but I won’t relax. This place is making my Slayer sense go off the charts,” she muttered and sat down.

“If you were any other person, mortal person, you would have a reason to be afraid. But you did not come here because of your own actions,” Crenshaw started. “We’re working on getting you out as we speak.”

“How long?” Buffy asked.

“Six months,” Crenshaw said. “There, in your world. Here, well, it’ll be a little longer.”

“Why not earlier?” she asked.

“Your people need to find the right spell. It’s been misplace and will take some time to locate.” Buffy thought for a moment.

“Why not just let me out?” she asked.

“Not possible. Unless we want to disturb the balance between good and evil, we cannot open a vortex out of hell. That would not only release you, but half of the population of hell.” Buffy frowned.

“That wouldn’t be a good thing,” she said slowly.

“No, it wouldn’t,” Crenshaw agreed. “Which brings us to your current situation.”

“Yeah, and why my mortal enemy is acting really, really…odd,” Buffy said.

“You mean Angelus? That one’s easy. When we released Angel, we separated the two. But Schlep wanted him to have a little good in him, so we left some of Angel’s humanity in him. Still evil, but he has a good side two. It helps him think more rationally.”

“When you released Angel,” Buffy repeated.

“When we did that, your Watcher and that redhead were performing a spell to bring him back. All we had to do was do the second part of it and separate the two,” Crenshaw explained. “It was, unfortunately, a totally different spell than the one needed to retrieve you.”

“Oh, joy,” Buffy muttered dryly.

“So, you can either a, be Angelus’s assistant of sorts. Help keep demons in line, learn some magic, that sort of stuff. Or we can find something else for you.”

“Be his…as in work with him?” Buffy asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

“Do I have to?” Buffy whined.

“Well, no, but what do you want to do?”

“Go home.”

“Precisely. You do this, you’ll keep up with training, learn new techniques. And hey, how many Slayer’s can say they went to hell and made friends?”

“How many want to?”

“Fine, but please Buffy, give it a try. It’ll help pass the days. And you might be here for a while.” Buffy thought for a moment and then sighed.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Great. Tell Angelus you agreed and he’ll set you up with a place and anything else you may need. Oh, some general information. You won’t age, so don’t worry. And that whole being female time, won’t happen. You’re body has basically stopped like that. It can be damaged, but you will not be able to die. So don’t worry.” Crenshaw smiled and Buffy rose out of her seat. Feeling somewhat sick, she made her way out into the lobby where Angelus was waiting and looked at him.

“Okay, yup, this is defiantly hell,” she muttered. “Well Dead-Boy, let’s go.” Angelus glared at her for using Xander’s nickname.

“Don’t call me Dead-Boy,” he muttered.

“Well then, what should I call you? The Really Annoying Person? No, that wouldn’t work, not a person.” Buffy smirked up at Angelus, which he matched with one of his own.

“Angelus will work fine,” he replied. “C’mon, let’s get you situated, then I’ll give you a tour.”

. . .

Buffy rolled out of bed and got dressed, smiling as she remembered the rest of that day. Now, it had been nearly three hundred years and Crenshaw was right. She had made friends. And in hell. Go figure. She walked out of her room and into the living room of the apartment she shared with Angelus.

“Good morning,” she said. Angelus looked up from where he sat with his arms folded across his chest. “Keep that up, and I’ll swear they sent Angelus to earth and left Angel here. What’s up, Brood Boy?”

“They want to retire me. Send me somewhere else,” he blurted out. Buffy sat down next to him and raised her eyebrow.

“What do you mean? Fire you?”

“Something like that.”

“Must be your stunning personality,” Buffy muttered and stood up. She was friends with him, she’d admit that. But like him? Not really. She could barely stand him. And as three or four scars to his chest from staking, he just won’t die.

“This is serious Buffy. Oh, by the way, Crenshaw said they may have found your spell.” Buffy stopped and looked at him. “The only way I can keep my job is if I go with you, help you save the world or some bullshit like that. I don’t want to save the world. I want to stay here and torture people. It’s fun.” “Well, look at the bright side. You can kill Mya for me.”

“No, I can’t kill her. Those are the rules. I have to be like Soul-Boy, or I get to be dust.” Buffy glared down at him then let out a long breath.

“When?” she asked.

“Tonight,” he replied. Buffy turned away from him and went to look out the window. It wasn’t much of a view; there were a few other dwellings for other officials of hell, then row after row of cages and chained victims. At first, it had really bothered people. But then she realized that they weren’t people who deserved pity. Murderers, rapists, demons, vampires. None of them she felt sorry for, and some she helped think of punishments for. The way her humanity was slipping from her scared her, but somehow didn’t bother her.

“Well, is there a way to contact Whistler?” she asked.

“Already done. He knows when to perform the ritual, and he has a place set up. He’s working with Spike and Dru and the watcher’s council. None of them want to release me, but I have no choice. I want to keep my job.”

“I don’t think anyone will believe it,” she muttered quietly.

“What?”

“A Buffy-whipped Angelus,” she smirked at him. Angrily, Angelus got up and stood towering over Buffy.

“I am not your damned lap dog. Not like him. I’m only doing my job,” he hissed, his vampire visage melting into his handsome features.

“Yeah, taking orders,” Buffy hissed. “See ya later, Angelus. I got rounds to make.” She blew him a mock kiss and left the apartment. Angrily, Angelus sunk down and muttered obscene comments about Buffy.

. . .

Angel sat up in bed. He shook his head, confused. This was the fifth time in three days that he had, had dreams about Buffy in hell. But that was impossible. She was dead. Mya had told him so and she didn’t have any reason to lie to him. Did she?”

. . .

Chapter One, The Truth

Angel paced back and forth in his house. The dream he had the previous night had thoughts going through his mind a mile a minute. And what bothered him the most, is that it made more sense to think Buffy had been sucked into hell than that she had died. He shook his head. No. She was dead and it had been six months. He had finally started acting normal again. Everyone was glad. Well, everyone but Whistler. He had left right away after Buffy died. That was something that puzzled him too, but it wasn’t unusual that Whistler disappeared for a while. He’d done it before. But then Drusilla had shown up and told him not to get over Buffy, not to forget her. And specifically, not to trust Mya. And after that, nobody had seen the two vampires again. He remembered it clearly.

. . .

It had been a week since Buffy’s death and Angel hadn’t left his house at all in that time. A few people, namely Joyce, Giles, and Mya had shown up to comfort him, but he didn’t respond to them much. When Mya had last visited, she said she’d be over that night, so when he heard the knock on the door, he thought it was her.

“Come in,” he called out lifelessly. Drusilla opened the door and walked in with a painful smirk on her face.

“You should be careful who you invite in Angel. I would think you’d know that the best,” she whispered. “How have you been?”

“How the hell do you think?” he shot at her angrily. She raised an eyebrow.

“Well, with how much Mya’s been dropping by…” she said slowly. Angel glared at her and sunk lower into his chair.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think?” Dru asked. He huffed out an exasperated breath. Dru was playing head games and he wasn’t interested.

“Do you have a reason to be here in specific?” he growled out.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I do. Whistler left for England. I’m not sure when he’ll be back. In fact, he’s requested that Spike and I join him.” Angel looked up confused.

“And I care because?” he asked annoyed.

“Don’t get over her,” Dru said suddenly. Angel blinked as if he didn’t hear right.

“What?”

“Buffy. Don’t get over her. I can’t go into details, I just can’t. I don’t even know them myself. But don’t get over her. And if you ever cared about her at all, don’t forget that she loves you.”

“Loved. She’s dead,” Angel said bitterly.

“Loves,” Drusilla repeated. “Loves.”

“Mya said she died. Buffy is unable to love anymore. She’s dead.”

“Well, that’s your problem. Don’t trust Mya. All she’s doing with any of you is screwing with your minds. Don’t trust her, because if you do, well, it’ll turn around and bite you in the ass.” With that, Drusilla got up and left, leaving Angel extremely confused and deep in thought.

. . .

Angel sat down in his chair in an angry huff. *What the hell did she mean?* he thought. *But maybe that’s just it. Hell.* Angel stood up and went over to his closet as fast as he could. He pulled on his boots and then his leather trench coat. He had a watcher to see.

. . .

“Are you sure?” Giles asked. He looked at Whistler, who had disappeared months ago, hopefully. The little demon nodded his head.

“As sure as she’s not a natural blonde,” Whistler said. “Buffy’s alive.”

“But if she’s alive, then Mya lied to us,” Giles said slowly.

“Yup. As a matter of fact, Mya is responsible for Buffy’s death.” Giles’s eyes opened wide and he sat, slowly, in a nearby chair.

“What?” he asked softly.

“I’m sorry Watcher, but I have proof. I knew something was up as soon as Dru called me and told me she was having visions about Mya killing Buffy. Add Buffy’s dream that Mya pushed her into a vortex into hell, well, I decided to do something. I got a video camera, a small one, from a demon who owed me big. I gave it to Spike, ‘cause he’s good at hiding things, and they set it up.”

“They?” Giles asked, barely staying focused. Buffy, she was alive.

“Spike and Dru. They set it up and I got it right after the battle.” Giles looked up confused.

“How?”

“Well, as soon as Mya came out and told us that Buffy died, I forgot about the camera. But then everyone started crying and Angel looked like…”

. . .

Whistler felt sorry for Angel. He looked down on the poor guy who looked like his heart was just dug out of his chest with a spoon. *With a spoon?* Whistler thought. *I’ve been spending way too much time with Buffy.*

“Uh, well, I’ll stick around and clean up. You guys should probably go, get some rest,” Whistler said quietly. “Spike, get Dru home. I’ll see you two in a while.” They nodded and Spike led Drusilla down the hall. Oz slowly guided the sobbing Willow after them, followed by Xander and Cordelia. Giles and Whistler stared down at Angel for a moment.

“Maybe you ought to bring him with you,” Whistler suggested. “You never know what he might try to do.” Giles nodded and knelt down by Angel.

“Angel?” Giles asked quietly. “Come on, Angel, it’s time to leave.” Angel barely heard him, but stood and continued to stare into space. Giles walked down the hall, Angel following silently behind him.

“I’ll help clean up,” Mya said cheerfully.

“For someone who just watched her sister in battle die you seem awfully cheerful,” Whistler said slowly.

. . .

“That was my first clue that Mya had lied through her teeth,” Whistler said. Giles nodded, he remembered that night clearly. He remembered the unsettling feeling that had twisted around in his stomach when he saw Mya come out with a barely contained look of glee on her face. He had just thought she was happy that she had managed to save the world.

“Yes, she did seem a bit…off,” Giles said slowly.

“That was only the beginning…” Whistler said, continuing his story.

. . .

Whistler walked in and looked around the place. He saw, at the base of each stair case, smoky remains of a vortex into hell. Puzzled, he took a step closer to the one on the left to investigate. Yellow slime and bits of green flesh were on the ground by that one. The only thing that was by the other vortex was a hair clip with bits of blonde hair in it. Buffy’s hair clip. He remembered his conversation with Spike while they waited for the battle to be over.

“I hid it up in the stacks. In the second row, there’s a shelf of blue books. It’s the only brown one. The title is I Spy With My Little Eye,” Spike had said. Whistler walked up the right stair case and looked closely at the bookshelf that had a great view of the library. Just as Spike had said, there was a shelf with all blue books. All except the small brown book in the middle with the title I Spy With My Little Eye. He peered closely at it and saw the small lens protruding a bit from the word Spy. He pulled it out and opened the book, revealing a small camera and a small screen to play the tape on. He hit a button to rewind the tape and watched as his figure walked around then Mya’s re-entered and then, out of nowhere, the battle scene erupted onto the screen. He pushed another button and looked closely at the screen with wide eyes as the demon was slain by Buffy, as the two vortex’s opened, as one swallowed the demon, and as Buffy stood in front of the other. He found himself willing with all of his might, that what he saw next, he hadn’t. Mya stepped behind Buffy and raised her hands to push the petite blonde. At the last possible second, Buffy whirled around, only to be shoved into hell. Whistler watched, dumbfounded as Mya smirked victoriously and as she walked out of the library. He continued to stare as his own image walked across the screen then as it faded into black. Mya had broken one of the most cherished rules of being a Slayer. Not to abuse your powers for anything other than the good of the world. She had just done it. She had just pushed the world’s only hope for survival into hell. Detached, he hurried around the library and cleaned it with unnatural speed. He had to get to the council as soon as possible, and didn’t need to be waiting around there forever cleaning up after a battle.

. . .

Giles took in everything that Whistler had just said to him. Buffy was alive. Mya had pushed her into hell. The Council knew about it.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Giles asked after a while when he found his voice.

“I couldn’t. My orders were direct from the Council. I had gotten a hold of them when I had first suspected Mya may have been up to something. They told me that if my fears were realized, to get to England as soon as possible. It wasn’t until after I had gotten there had I even thought about Spike or Drusilla. We’ve been working for a while, looking for the spell to get Buffy out of hell. We finally found it about a week ago. We know she isn’t in any danger, we’ve gotten a hold of a demon named Crenshaw. He’s in charge of the section Buffy had gotten pulled into. He said she’s gotten adjusted pretty well, trains every day, has been learning magic –”

“This is all very nice, but I don’t care what she’s doing there. What I do care about, sir, is why the hell she isn’t here!” Giles exploded. Whistler smiled.

“We need your help with the spell. We’re getting out two bodies, and we need your knowledge of the occult.” Giles nodded a small nod.

“What does the Council plan to do about Mya?” he asked carefully. Whistler sighed and looked away for a moment.

“All they are going to do, is take away her powers,” Whistler said. “Well, that, and then give Buffy full options on what to do. Half of them wouldn’t mind if Buffy killed her. They’ve already done the spell. It should be going into effect soon.” Giles nodded.

“When do we do the spell?” he asked.

“Sunset,” Whistler said. “Here’s the stuff we need you to take care of.” Whistler handed him a sheet of paper and got up to walk out the doors. “Oh, and Watcher?” Giles looked up at him. “Don’t tell anybody, not even Angel. That’s not up to us. That’s up to her.” Giles nodded and the demon once again disappeared into the crowded halls of Sunnydale High.

. . .

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