Falling Into You

By Spike Speigel

With This Ring

The man was an ordinary man. He was a middle aged individual, divorced for close to nine years. She had taken everything, including the children. While most fathers would have fought for their children, he didn’t put up a fight. Instead, Ray Crichton decided that his boys were better off with their mother. After all, he hadn’t done anything for them ever since they came into the world. Sure, he loved them, but he never did anything substantial for them.

Sure, he provided for them when he was employed. But once the military began cutting their independent contracts back in the eighties under the Reagan era, Ray found himself out of a job. So, his wife; no, ex wife had to get another job just to sustain the family while Ray looked for other employment. Unfortunately, work for a mechanical engineer with twelve years working experience didn’t go as far as Ray thought it should have. Of course there were jobs available, but not for him. He was being beat out by candidates that were younger, that were well versed in the latest technologies and knowledge in the area, that were not him.

But his wife never gave up on him. She was able to take care of the family while Ray kept on plugging away, taking whatever work he could find to pitch in for his wife and his boys. However, Ray was just a man. And the frustration eventually set in. What kind of husband was he? His wife was the provider, not him. And what of his boys? He could see the look in their eyes. There was no mistaking that look. They no longer had the respect they once did. Their old man was a failure. A loser. So, Ray did what any typical man would do in that situation. He gave up.

First it was a drink in the morning to calm his nerves. Then it was two. Then it was drinks in the morning and night. Finally it came to a point that the days began blurring into one another. His wife noticed his problem, but she noticed too late. The man that was once her husband was no longer there. Instead, all that remained was a shell of the man she had fallen in love with. Any proof she needed for that fact was provided to her when Ray raised his hand to her.

And that was why Ray let what meant the world to him to walk away from his life. He was no longer the man that his wife had kissed under a full moon in the rain when he stood outside her window, calling out to her as her parents slept soundly in the next room. He wasn’t the same father that had once taught his sons how to ride a bike, how to throw a curveball, and how to tie a tie. Instead, he was a hopeless drunk. An angry drunk. A man that had given up on the people that loved him. That’s why he let his family walk away from him.

His wife had wanted to give the marriage a second chance, but Ray wouldn’t even contemplate the idea. He knew there was no going back. No, that’s not right. There was a small chance to be a happy family again. But, then again, there was also that small chance that he’d raise his hand to his wife again. Maybe even his boys. He couldn’t risk that. So, he walked away, trying to piece together a semblance of a new life.

And that’s how he found himself in Texas. It wasn’t a great job, but being the manager of a local oilfield paid enough for him to live a comfortable life. And his skills from his former life came into play once in a while. Well, the management part anyway. And he rarely turned to the bottle anymore. He had fallen off the wagon from time to time, but he was clean for seven months now. Much longer than his last stint of three.

But, he sure wanted a drink right about now. Something, anything to keep his eyes from falling close. The latest fiduciary reports for the last quarter weren’t as high as the investors had thought they should be. That was because the quantity of oil drawn from the field was lessening. What did people think, the reserves were infinite? Then why the hell did they call them reserves? So, Ray found himself going through the books at three in the morning, hoping that there was some part of the field that they hadn’t exhausted yet. That’s when it happened.

At first, Ray thought it was the first rays of the morning sun coming over the horizon. But that didn’t make sense for a little past three. Ray turned his gaze to the window of his office that was really a trailer, kind of like one of those portables you’d see in a public school once the buildings had been overcrowded. The light, first a speck at the horizon of the field, grew in intensity, forcing Ray to put his hand up to his eyes, shielding them from the glare the light caused against the glass of the window. But, as soon as Ray moved his hand to his face, the light faded. Ray instinctively blinked his eyes, his mind racing to catch up with his emotions. Did he really see that? Ray sighed as the urgency of the upcoming meeting got the better of him, his gaze moving back to the books.

“Seeing things.” Ray’s hand moved roughly through his hair, frustration setting in as his eyes scanned the pages once again. “God, I need a drink.” Another stifled yawn overcame him as he flipped the page, realizing that he was looking at an older map of the area.

The man in the psychiatric ward wasn’t a normal man. In fact, those that knew him thought that he was, to put it bluntly, off his rocker. Really? Aliens roaming the earth? Werewolves are real, sure they are. And don’t even get him started on vampires. That was why he was now spending his time in the so-called mental ward. Apparently, no one had thought it fitting to tell Mr. John (call me Jack) Tweedy that vampires weren’t real. They were a figment of his imagination.

But there it was. Mr. Tweedy knew that he was of sound mind. But, maybe that’s the thing. Who can say what’s sane and what’s insane? Just because you can’t see the bogeyman doesn’t mean he’s not out there somewhere carving up people left and right. To tell the truth, things have always been different for Jack. Ever since the night he drove his car off the Golden Gate Bridge.

He didn’t mean to. Come on, no one actually means to drive off a bridge unless they’re suicidal, and even then, you’d have to be damn serious to go that far. But there was something in the road. To this day, Jack swore up and down, on as many Bibles he could get his hands on, that there had been something on the road. No, not something. Someone. A woman. But it didn’t look like a woman. It had the features of a woman. That much he was sure of since the body he had swerved to avoid had been essentially nude. However, Jack could have sworn as the car careened into the steel siding of the bridge, that the woman had a glow about her.

Not that she was pregnant, mind you. She was imitating a night-light and was doing a pretty good job at it. That, and the fact that her hair stuck up. Well, parts of it anyway. In two sharp tufts. But it could have been a sleight of mind. After all, Jack was falling to his death. And, what’s a little mind screw when you’re plummeting to your death. Maybe that was what people saw when they said their lives flashed before their eyes. In the case of Jack Tweedy, he had seen a glowing naked woman. Before he had his near death experience.

Jack knew he should have died that night a year or so ago. But something happened. One moment, he was conscious, seeing the water rushing toward him, his mouth trying to work as nothing came out. The next moment, darkness. It could have been the water clouding his vision, but it didn’t feel like it. If it were, he would have surely remembered the bitter cold. That was the thing. He didn’t remember the car sinking into the water. He didn’t remember getting out of the car. And he sure as hell didn’t remember swimming the hundreds of feet needed to get back to the nearest landmass that the bridge sat upon.

But, that was what apparently had happened because the next thing Jack knew, he was straddling the nearest shore, damp and in pain. And with numerous EMS people hovering over him. The paramedic working on him was sure that Jack was dead. The EKG never spiked. That’s probably why the man bolted upright, moving backwards as he did so, when Jack groaned in pain. Maybe the equipment was damaged? Maybe.

Things got weirder when the police got their turn with Mr. Tweedy. What had possessed the man to drive off the Golden Gate Bridge? What? What do you mean what? There was a woman in the middle of the road, that’s what. Oh, you mean the woman that only you saw. Because if there was a woman on that bridge, the guy right behind you didn’t try to swerve out of the way. Must have run her over and kept going. Just like the hundred or so people behind you.

Jack was sure the cop didn’t mean to sound condescending, but based on the facts, Jack was coming off like a doped up fanatic that wanted to end the pain. Fortunately for Jack, the supposed stress of the situation that Jack had just experienced allowed him some leeway. People didn’t think he was crazy until the day he started shouting that the end of the world was coming.

He didn’t mean to, but the visions in his head were so real. He could have sworn that he was actually there. He wasn’t sure where there was, but Jack knew that the end of the world was coming. The young teenage girl had been cut by an old man, the old man letting her bleed over the side of a tower. Some guy had tried to save her, but the old man had just thrown him off the tower to his death. Then came the swirl of energy, tearing the world apart. What decent person wouldn’t warn the people around him that the end was coming?

And that’s how Jack’s life took a nosedive in the sociability department. The flashes came more frequently after that night. He wasn’t sure what had happened with that, but apparently, it worked out for the best because he was still standing. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to remain standing.

Jack could see the world for what it really was now. Not just a world of human monsters. But monsters that were actually monsters. He saw them now. Whenever he walked to the local mart. He knew who on the street was human and who wasn’t. It wasn’t so much the fact that his eyes told him, but the voice in his head. That same voice that told you it was bad for you to take the cookie from the jar as a child without your mother’s consent. But, now, the voice told him, hey, demon. Well, wasn’t that a neat parlor trick?

The problem was, Jack wasn’t sure if he was okay from that point on in his life. Demons? Come on, really? So, Jack had done the only sensible thing. He didn’t have that many friends to miss him as well as any immediate family. The move made sense in his mind when he decided upon it. And that’s how Mr. John Tweedy found himself a resident of the Los Angeles Mental Institution.

But, that didn’t mean anything to Jack at that moment. Because the sharp pain in his head that had suddenly overcome him dropped him to his knees. He thought he was yelling, but he wasn’t sure because of the roaring inside his head. As his hands clutched as his head, his hospital gown coming precariously to the point of indecency at the back, Jack felt a hand on his shoulder. But that didn’t matter at the moment. All that mattered was getting rid of the twinge reverberating throughout his inner skull.

The hand was joined by another, this one finding Jack’s other shoulder, gently pulling him to his feet. However, Jack continued to deal with the pain in his head. He never noticed the orderly talking to him, asking him what was the matter. Jack finally realized that there was someone in front of him when the pain subsided. Because that’s when it all came into focus for Jack. His eyes went from one of relief to one of shock as Jack realized what it was that had followed the pain. The orderly tried his question once again.

“Mr. Tweedy? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

He answered the best he could, the pain returning, the images in his head beginning to come faster. “He’s coming.”

“Who’s coming, Mr. Tweedy? Someone you know?” To say the orderly was getting frustrated with Jack’s behavior was an understatement.

“He’s coming. Oh, God. He’s coming!” Jack’s voice began to swell as the images continued to bombard his senses. The orderly continued to do his job, trying to get Mr. Tweedy to calm down.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Tweedy. You’re safe here. I promise.”

Jack didn’t feel the comfort in those words as the images continued to cycle in his mind’s eye. The same declaration escaped Jack’s lips, this time with more intensity. “You don’t understand! He’s coming!”

Jack tried to run past the orderlies, wanting to get out of the room and somewhere safe. Wherever that was, it wasn’t in this small recreational room where the patients got an hour of television and all the board games they could handle. Unfortunately, the orderlies thought it rude of Jack to try and leave without permission.

“Whoa, Mr. Tweedy. You know better than to go outside without doctor’s consent.” The hand tightly squeezed Jack’s wrist, pulling Jack backward into the sofa. His legs gave way as they impacted the arm, Jack falling to the floor. The orderly moved to Jack, not meaning for him to end up on the floor. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. You okay, Mr. Tweedy?”

Jack made no motion to get up, the flashes in his mind continuing to cause him pain. However, what comprised those images only heightened his trepidation. “He’s coming! He’s coming!”

“That’s enough of that, Mr. Tweedy. Let’s see if we can get you something to help you sleep.” As the orderly bent down to retrieve the once normal Mr. John Tweedy, Jack bellowed a cry, one only heard during times of great distress and anguish. The orderly couldn’t help but step back and finally recognize the point Jack was trying to get across. The tone in Jack’s voice made the orderly’s blood curdled as Jack’s voice echoed throughout the room.

“He’s here!”

A few miles away and a few hours later, Buffy Summers found herself waking up to the sound of a loud electronic shrill, realizing after a while why she had set her alarm on a weekend. Today was the big day. Today was Xander and Anya’s wedding. The first one had been marred by Xander’s insecurities, but Buffy could feel it in her heart that today would be different. Today would be the day that Xander finally became a husband.

As Buffy’s hand reached for the alarm clock, her demeanor changed slightly, her happiness now tinted with sorrow. It had been over a week since she last spoke to Spike. He said that he’d try to get back in time for the wedding. So, unless Spike had flown in the night before, Buffy knew that Spike wouldn’t be present at the wedding. Even if he did arrive in Sunnydale the night before, he would have surely called her. Right?

Buffy sighed as she realized she didn’t have a clear-cut answer to that question. A week. It had been a week since Spike had met the Watchers’ Council. So, why hadn’t he come back? Were there still questions he needed answers to? That was possible. After all, the Council would most likely keep some secrets to themselves, even though they would ultimately help Spike, just because they had to maintain their air of superiority.

Maybe she should call Giles. Just to make sure the Council wasn’t leading Spike around the bend. That’s all. She wasn’t calling to see if Spike was okay. He was a big boy. He could take care of himself. But, Buffy didn’t think it would hurt any if she checked in anyway. Buffy sighed as she finally rolled out of bed.

“Acting like a possessive girlfriend, Buffy.” Girlfriend. Was she even that? That wasn’t the right question. Was she ever that? She was with Angel and Riley. But, what did she really have with Spike? Well, there was the sex. God, was there sex. But, other than that, what did they really have? It’s not like she actually treated him like a person when he was alive. Well, a vampire. But, after that night in the cemetery, Buffy had realized the truth. Her feelings for Spike were more than physical. They had to be. Why else would she hurt so much inside after he died?

Buffy moved from the bed, pulling her robe about her body as she made her way downstairs. The aroma of coffee and eggs wafting upstairs disrupted her train of thought; hunger getting the better of her. Apparently Tara was already up. It couldn’t have been Dawn because, to tell the truth, Dawn’s culinary skills peaked at peanut butter and banana quesadillas. As Buffy rounded the corner into the kitchen, she saw that she was right about it not being Dawn. However, she was wrong about it being Tara.

“Hey, Will.”

Willow Rosenberg turned from the oven range, one hand still on the skillet handle, the other moving the spatula through the mixture of eggs, red peppers, onions, and cheese. “Hope you’re hungry, Buffy. Think I kinda went overboard with breakfast.”

Buffy’s eyes perused the kitchen counter as well as the island. Willow was right. While there were only four people under the roof, Willow had gone ahead and made enough food for a small battalion. Well, that and maybe a troupe of Boy Scouts. Buffy grabbed the juice carton from the island and poured herself a glass. After taking a sip, Buffy responded to her friend’s query.

“Think I’m too nervous to eat.” Willow gently chuckled as she scooped the contents of the skillet onto a pile of eggs already waiting for any passerby that had a hankering for the substance.

“Why? You’re not the one getting married. Or is that something else I missed while I was away?”

Buffy gently shook her head, a small smile covering the inkling of pain inherent in that thought. She was a Slayer. And, that being said, she knew that any hope of leading a normal life was always going to elude her. She could barely manage a relationship with someone of the opposite sex on an intimate level. The thought of being a wife or a mother were a child’s dream. She would never be those things. Because she was the Slayer.

“No, you didn’t miss anything. See.” Buffy playfully raised her left hand up to Willow’s gaze, her fingers moving in a wavelike motion. “No ring.” Willow placed the skillet in the sink with the other utensils and bowls she’d have to wash later, moving to the island, grabbing a seat on one of the stools.

“Not yet, you mean.”

Buffy shot her friend a sarcastic grin as she took another sip of her orange juice. “Yeah. The guys are knocking down my door.”

Willow poured herself a cup of coffee, adding cream as she spoke. “Well, there’s Spike, right?” Willow knew that Buffy and Spike had gone through some sort of relationship when she began feeling insecure about her place in the group. While she was trying to prove to her friends that she mattered. But, Willow didn’t realize the scope of Buffy’s feelings until that night in Spike’s apartment. As Buffy tended to Spike’s garden, the two friends spoke in great detail about what had happened to the other. Why Willow felt like she had to prove herself useful by turning to dark magicks. Why Buffy had felt guilty being with her friends. And why she had felt alive being with Spike. Before Buffy could respond to her friend’s question, a voice from upstairs broke the silence.

“Buffy! I can’t find my shoes! Did you move them?!?”

Buffy emitted a soft sigh as she finished off the remnants of her juice, then shouted her question to her little sister. “Did you check the closet?”

“No, Buffy. Because that would be the last place I’d check for my shoes.” The sarcasm was so thick; Buffy knew what was coming next. “Of course I checked there!”

Buffy frowned as she looked at Willow. “Be right back. I have to find Dawn’s shoes which are probably under her bed.” Willow smiled gently as Buffy made her way to Dawn’s room. As Willow sat there alone in the kitchen, she couldn’t help but remember back to the other night at Spike’s apartment. If it weren’t for that moment, she was sure that she and Buffy wouldn’t be as friendly as they were now. In fact, she was sure that she would have lost her friend’s trust forever if it weren’t for that night.

“So, that was a Squishie?”

Buffy gently chuckled as she unlocked the door to Spike’s apartment, motioning with her arm as though she were a doorman for Willow to enter first. Willow nodded playfully as she stepped into the apartment, Buffy following right behind her. As Buffy turned the deadbolt into the doorframe, Willow looked around at her surroundings, still not entirely believing the fact that Spike, undead person and all around baddie, lived in a place like this. She might have believed that a working adult lived here, but Spike? No way.

Buffy walked past Willow, casually tossing her jacket onto the sofa. As she turned back to her friend, she could see the look of discern on her face. “What’s wrong, Will?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s just…” Willow took a breath as she continued. “Spike really lives here?”

Buffy chuckled once again, her hand pointing over to the stereo system. “Check out the records and ask me again.” Willow smiled as she moved over to the entertainment cabinet, her fingers flipping the record sleeves toward her as though they were pages in a paperback. As the album titles floated past her eyes, Willow knew for certain that this was indeed Spike’s abode. Who else could listen to that much punk music?

“Okay. Spike lives here.” Both women shared a laugh as Buffy moved to the kitchen, grabbing the watering can. As the faucet ran, the can being filled, Willow’s inquisitiveness got the best of her. “So, Spike’s a good guy now?”

Buffy smiled as she spoke. “C’mon, Will. We all didn’t want to see it, but he’s been good for a while now.” Buffy considered her response, correcting herself somewhat. “Okay, maybe not an angel. But he’s been on our side for a long time.” She frowned as she continued. “It just took us a while to realize it.”

Willow thought she could see a flash of sorrow on Buffy’s countenance, but that thought was quickly dispelled as a subtle grin emerged on Buffy’s lips. Willow decided to change the topic for the sake of her friend. “I wouldn’t exactly call this a garden, Buff.” Buffy looked at Willow as she indicated the plants sitting on the kitchen counter. “I think this is more of a patch than a garden.” Willow didn’t expect the laugh from Buffy, but was pleased at the robustness of it. This was nice. Almost like old times.

“He got me with that, too. These are just for decoration.” Buffy turned off the faucet, moving to the balcony, watering can in hand. “C’mon. I’ll show you the real stuff.” Willow frowned a bit as she nodded. Buffy slid the glass door open, stepping out into the night. Willow followed, her breath catching in her throat upon seeing the display in front of her. After a moment of struggling for words, Willow just resorted to what was on her mind.

“Wow.”

Buffy smiled as she began to water the roses. They were always the first things she watered whenever she was here. She wasn’t sure why, but whenever she looked at them, she felt comfortable. At ease. “I know what you mean. I was speechless the first time I saw them as well.”

Willow slowly leant over a group of tulips, inhaling strongly as she enjoyed the scent igniting her olfactory nerves. “Who knew Spike had a green thumb?” Buffy giggled, feeling the absurdity of the situation overwhelming her.

“Tell me about it. I would have thought it was red.” Willow looked at her friend, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. “You know, he being a vampire and all.” Willow got the joke and softly chuckled.

“Well, he’s not a vampire anymore. Right?”

Buffy moved from the roses, beginning to water the poinsettias. “We’re not sure. He can do all of the non-vamp things now.”

“Non-vamp?”

“Sunlight, crosses, garlic. Doesn’t hurt him anymore. That and the fact he breathes and has a pulse kinda almost takes him out of the category of vampire.”

“Guess so.” Willow considered Buffy’s response before stating the obvious. “Wait. Almost?”

Buffy sighed as she placed the watering can on one of the tables holding up Spike’s flowers. “Remember when I said Spike attacked me in the cemetery?”

“Yeah.”

After a deep breath, Buffy continued. “Well, his face morphed into a vamp.”

Willow took in the information, not entirely understanding the facts placed in front of her. “Wait. You said he was alive, right?”

“Yep.”

“But he can still go all vampy?”

“That’s the gist of it.” Buffy leaned her back against the balcony railing, her arms wrapping about her chest. “But his eyes were different.”

Willow moved over to Buffy, standing in front of her friend. “What do you mean by different?”

“His eyes were human.” Buffy shivered slightly, thinking it was the cold getting to her. She knew better, though.

“Really? That’s new.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Both women smiled at each other before Buffy bowed her head, the conversation starting to take its toll on her psyche.

“So, is that why Spike and Giles are in England right now?” Buffy nodded, her eyes still on the floor. Willow was uncertain of Buffy’s mood, asking the obvious question.

“That’s a good thing, right? They find out what Spike is from the Council and all is right with the world.” Buffy looked up, seeing a quizzical look on Willow’s face.

“I’m not sure.”

Willow looked at Buffy, unsure of the emotion now on her face. Willow walked over to the railing slowly, standing next to Buffy’s side as she spoke. “What’s wrong?”

Buffy turned her gaze from the floor to Willow, a false smile playing across her face. Willow nodded at her, indicating to Buffy that her charade wasn’t working. With a deep sigh, Buffy answered her friend’s question.

“I don’t think Spike wants to come back.” Willow slowly tilted her head, trying to get a better view of Buffy’s face. She could now identify the emotion covering Buffy. She acted as though she had just lost the most important person in her life.

“Why would you say that? With everything that happened last year, he’d be an idiot to not come back to you.” Buffy softly laughed, a hint of bitterness tinting it.

“I could see it in his eyes.” Buffy turned her body as well as her gaze to the skyline, her elbows resting against the railing. Willow looked on as Buffy continued her narrative. “I know he still cares for me, but I don’t think he loves me anymore.”

Love. Willow knew that Buffy and Spike had been intimate during their approximate yearlong tryst. But love? Willow had no idea things had been that serious. It didn’t seem that way when Buffy had first told them about the affair and how Spike had ended it. It almost sounded like Spike had used her, taking advantage of her after her resurrection. But, Willow knew that something had changed since that night. Somewhere along the way, her friend had developed feelings for a vampire. Again. Must be fate, Willow thought to herself as she tried to reassure her friend.

“Well, I don’t think that’s true. Ever since he’s been back here in Sunnydale, all he’s ever wanted was you. Why would he think differently now?”

“Because he won’t even look at me without turning away.” Buffy sighed as she continued. “God, I’m hopeless. I’m falling in love with someone I have no right to.”

Willow leaned against the railing, sliding closer to Buffy. “You fell in love with Angel.”

“But that was…” Willow finished her troubled companion’s thought.

“Different?”

Buffy smirked as she answered Willow’s query. “Yeah.”

Willow had to ask the obvious. “Why?” Buffy turned her gaze to Willow, a hint of confusion on her face. “Why is it different?”

“Because Spike’s a killer.” Willow offered a counterpoint.

“Angel was a killer.”

“But Angel has a soul now.”

“And Spike might or might not. You said he didn’t know what he was now.” Buffy looked down once again, frustration getting the better of her. Willow continued her observation. “Look. Even if Spike doesn’t have a soul, does it really matter? He’s good.”

“How can you just say that? With what he’s done in the past?”

Willow answered her friend’s question. “Because of what he did for me.” Buffy’s look of puzzlement made Willow continue with her explanation. “What kind of evil creature gives his life to save the world?”

Buffy spoke, her voice a hushed whisper. “You remember that?”

Willow gently traced the scars on the side of her neck, remembering what Spike had done. What Spike had stopped her from accomplishing. “Kinda hard not to with a constant reminder.” Buffy noted Willow feeling the scars that Spike had left, nodding acknowledgment. “And he stopped me from doing something I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself for.”

“Willow…”

Willow interrupted Buffy, continuing her narrative. “I know that things will never be the same between us because of what happened to Amy.” A deep sigh of regret escaped Willow’s lips as she spoke again. “But I know that eventually, I’ll be able to accept what I’ve done and somehow make reparations. I just hope it’ll be enough for you to forgive me.”

Buffy turned back around, leaning her back against the railing, her shoulder now touching Willow’s. “Nothing’s changed, Willow. You’re still one of my most trusted friends. I wish you’d realize that.”

Willow gently laughed, a smile emerging on her face. “Okay, I’ll tell you what. I won’t forget if you stop thinking about the past and start looking to the future.” Buffy nodded, a smile now on her face as well.

“I never would have thought you for a Spike supporter.”

“Well, what can I say? He has that annoying ability to grow on you.”

“All except Xander.”

“That’s just a guy thing. All alpha male and stuff along those lines.”

Both women shared a laugh, Buffy resting her head against Willow’s as she spoke. “Wanna see the rest of the place?”

“Hmm, let me see. We could either, A, stay outside in the cold night air or B, dig through Spike’s closet.”

Both women looked at each other, answering simultaneously. “B it is.” Another shared laugh as they made their way back into the apartment.

“Mmm, something smells good.” Willow stirred from her memories, seeing Tara pinch a bit of substance from a pancake, tossing it into her mouth as she placed the rest onto a plate. She sat down next to Willow, seeing the quizzical look on her face. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?” Willow smiled at Tara, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Doesn’t matter. So, are you ready for the big day?”

“Bridesmaid dress out of the plastic covering and ready to go.” Tara leaned over and poured herself a glass of juice before speaking once again. “So, how about you? I know it’s kind of last minute, but you ready to be best man? Uh, woman. Person.”

“I get the picture, Tara.” Willow scooped out a plateful of eggs, taking a bite, a smile on her face at the taste of her own cooking. “I’m just glad Xander wanted me to be there for him.”

“You’re his best friend, honey. He couldn’t not have you there.”

“I know you’re right, but I’m still going through this self loathing phase. It’s gonna take me a while to come to grips with the past.”

Tara reached over the counter, gently grasping her former lover’s hand. “I’m here for you, Willow. No matter what.” Buffy’s voice interrupted the silence.

“We all are.” Both women turned to the kitchen passage into the living room, seeing Buffy and Dawn walking toward the island. Willow turned toward Dawn, grinning as she spoke.

“Hey, Dawnster. Find your shoes?” Buffy answered before Dawn had a chance to.

“Yeah, she found them. Care to guess where?”

Willow fathomed a guess, remembering Buffy’s initial one. “Under her bed?” Buffy nodded, her arms crossed about her person while Dawn tried to defend herself.

“Hey, there’s a lot of junk under there. How was I supposed to know they were there?”

Tara responded this time. “Because you put them there?”

“Hey, what is this? Pick on Dawn day?” Willow answered, her smile growing.

“No. This is the day Xander and Anya get married.” All of the women smiled at the statement, Buffy picking up her glass, offering a toast.

“I can drink to that.” They waited for Dawn to pour a glass of juice before playfully toasting. Then came the laughter. Willow smiled at the sounds, knowing that she was home. That she was where she belonged.

Xander stood in front of the mirror, examining himself in the tux. He had done this once before, and it had ended with him walking away from everything because his doubts overpowered his love for Anya. But, the more he thought about that day; he realized that he had nothing to worry about. He loved Anya. More than anything in the world. He wouldn’t become his father. He’d make damn sure of that. Because Anya was worth it.

As Xander straightened his tie, the door opened behind him, Xander tilting his head in the mirror to see whom it was.

“Hey, Xander.”

“Hey, Buff. Everyone downstairs?”

Buffy stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. “Pretty much.” She lied. The one person she wanted to be there wasn’t. But she maintained her composure, keeping her emotions in check. This was Xander’s day. And she’d be there for him. “Tara and Willow are keeping your father company so he doesn’t get as tipsy as the last time.”

“That’s good.” Xander struggled with his tie a bit more before Buffy’s hand came down on his shoulder, indicating for him to turn around.

“Let me see.” Xander complied, looking down as Buffy adjusted his tie. “You know, we’ve been here before, so you know what I’m going to say.”

“Yeah, but could you say it again? For encouragement?” Buffy smiled at her friend, her fingers still on his tie.

“Well, I don’t remember the exact words, but they were something in the neighborhood of you’re the luckiest guy in the world. I envy you. And I love you.” Xander gently chuckled as Buffy looked up at him. “There, all done.” Buffy stepped back, looking at her handiwork. “Perfect.”

“Well, I have you to thank for that.” Xander smiled as he spoke, then saw the tears welling up in his friend’s eyes. He moved over to her, his arms wrapping around her waist. “Hey. Hey. I thought I was the one that was supposed to be getting all emotional.”

Buffy sniffled against Xander’s shoulder, hugging him back. “I know. I’m just glad one of us is going to live happily ever after.” Xander looked down at Buffy, seeing the mixture of happiness and sorrow at the same time. She was missing Spike. It was the only thing that made sense. He decided to make sure.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll get that happily ever after soon enough.” Buffy gently laughed, resting her head against Xander’s chest. “So, are our British friends coming?”

“I don’t think so. He…” Buffy paused, correcting herself. “They would have called by now.”

Xander considered his friend’s words, remembering the promise Spike had made him keep before telling him that he might not be coming back once he got to England. Even an ocean away, Spike was still hurting Xander’s friend. Promise or not, Buffy deserved the truth. “Buffy?”

She looked up to his friend, a smile on her face while she wiped the tears from her eyes. “What is it, Xander?” He was ready to tell her everything. About everything that had transpired in the hospital room after he and Giles had been rescued from Doc’s grasp. But one look in Buffy’s eyes, and he knew. She still had hope. Hope in the fact that Spike, bastard that he was, would come back to Sunnydale. Would come back to her. Then and there, Xander knew he had no right to shatter that hope. After all, without hope, what does a person have left?

“Um, nothing. Just…” Buffy tilted her head at her friend, a smirk on the corner of her lips. “I’m the one that should be crying. It’s not like you’re getting the old ball and chain after all.” Buffy giggled, gently hitting Xander on his shoulder.

“It’s not gonna be like that. Anya loves you. And you love her.”

Xander smiled back at Buffy, grabbing her in a tender embrace. “When you’re right, you’re right.” He pulled back, looking at his friend, a grin on his face. “Now, let’s get this show on the road, whaddya say?”

Buffy nodded, squeezing Xander’s hand as she moved toward the door. “I’ll tell Willow you’re ready.” As Buffy walked out of the door, Xander turned back to the mirror, a smile on his face. After today, he was going to be a husband. Xander chuckled at the thought, wondering where the time had gone.

Half a world away, Spike sat in the flat of one Rupert Giles, waiting for him to get back from his contact. While the rain continued to pelt the windows, Spike sat in the darkness, fiddling with the small jewelry box in his hand. While he had gotten all the answers he could from the Watcher’s Council, he realized that there were still questions that went unanswered. For one, what the hell was he? Secondly, what the hell was Doc thinking when he thought up the name Rocco?

Spike knew he needed new documents now that he was back. Well, with the majority of his memory intact. The last reminder he needed was Doc’s moniker for him as well as the ‘help’ he had given Spike once he came back. So, with a quick query to Giles, the Watcher decided that Spike’s idea was a good one and that he’d do all he could to remedy the situation. Unfortunately, miracles didn’t come quickly. It had been almost two weeks since their meeting with the Council. Two weeks since he talked to her.

A little over a month since he last saw her. He was starting to wonder if she had moved on. Probably. She was still young and beautiful. Cor, was she beautiful. Spike had wanted to pick up the phone and call her since that night with the Council, but with his memories in his faculty once again, the doubts came back as well. She was the Slayer. He was a vampire. Well, formerly anyway. But that didn’t change the fact that there were so many reasons why they shouldn’t be together. And so little reasons why they should be. But, the little reasons were starting to take control of his emotions.

He knew it that day when he was walking down Portobello Road. It wasn’t until he saw the store window that his memories fell into place. This was the same way he had come when Doc had freed him from the Council holding cells. It was also then that Spike realized what he had been looking at in the store window before Doc had interrupted him.

And that was how Spike came to find himself with a small velvet covered jewelry box in between his fingers. Question was, what should he do with it? Before he could ponder the thought, Spike heard the lock untumble, the door swinging upon immediately afterward. Spike pocketed the jewel box, getting up to greet his flat mate.

“Hullo, Rupert. How’d it go?”

Giles, drenched from the waist down, walked into the flat, dropping the umbrella into the holder next to the door. Apparently, the umbrella was only big enough for half a person. While Spike thought that Giles would be upset with his level of dampness, the smile on the Watcher’s face proved him wrong.

“Take a look.” Giles tossed an envelope toward Spike, he plucking it effortlessly out of the air. As Spike slowly opened the envelope, a subtle grin played across his face.

“How much this cost you?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Spike nodded at the Watcher who had become something of a friend over the course of the month, looking down at the documents. Passport, birth certificate, green card. It was all there. Finally, Spike noticed the name on the green card.

“You’re kidding.”

Giles smiled, moving to the bedroom to get into something of the dry variety. He continued speaking even though he was no longer in the room. “I thought it was rather poetic. And, seeing as how you didn’t give me a name to go on, I thought I’d take a little creative license.”

“A little? I’d say you took the bloody license and tossed it out the sodding window. Buffy’s liable to think I’m stalking her if she finds out.”

Giles’ chortle could be heard resonating throughout the flat as he spoke. “Well, at least you still have your first name, William.” Spike noted that, wondering if that was a good or bad thing. Giles stepped back into the living room, now donning a pair of dry slacks. “Oh, wouldn’t want to forget this.” Giles’ hand moved to his jacket pocket, pulling out a thin slip of paper. He placed it on the coffee table as he sat down on the sofa.

Spike leaned over, picking up the slip of paper, realizing that it was a plane ticket. Dated for today. “What? You tired of my company already?”

“Perish the thought.” Both men shared a smile as Giles continued. “Just thought that since you’ve got everything you need, you’d want to get back as soon as possible. A shame we couldn’t make it back for the wedding, though.”

“Yeah.” Spike looked at the plane ticket, doubt beginning to overcome him once again. Did he really want to go back? Did she even want him back? After all, she hadn’t called him since that night on the phone. Giles could hear the uncertainty in Spike’s voice as he tried to reassure him.

“Look. The sooner you get back, the sooner you’ll be able to give Buffy what’s in that box.” Spike looked at him quizzically, hoping he didn’t mean what Spike thought he meant. Unfortunately, as soon as Giles pointed to the bulge in Spike’s side pocket, Spike knew that it was time to cover.

“What, this? It’s nothin’. Just a gift for niblet. A little ‘thank you for bringing me back from the dead’ gift.”

“Is that so?”

“That’s right.”

Giles waved his hand in the air, indicating that he was buying Spike’s reason even though it was clear given the countenance on his face that he wasn’t. “Then, you’d want to get back as soon as possible to thank Dawn then.”

“And what about you? You not coming?”

“Oh, I am. Just have some things to tie up here seeing as how I’m not sure how long my stay will be in the states this time.”

“Oh.” Spike fiddled with the airline ticket, searching for the words. “Don’t know if I’ve said this lately, but thanks.”

“For what?”

“You know.”

Giles sat up, his hands cupped, dangling between his legs. “No, I don’t.”

Spike took a breath before he spoke. “Look. Ain’t that many blokes that would put it on the line for me, what with my past and all. And…”

Giles waved his hand once again, interrupting Spike’s speech. “You’ve proven that you want to be a better person. If I can help that along, I’ll gladly do it. End of story.”

The former vampire grinned, placing the ticket in his back pocket. “Thanks for that. Was afraid for a second I’d come off like a git.”

“Oh, you did. But not as much as you would have.” Another shared smile before Spike turned his gaze to the envelope.

“You know, it kinda rolls off the tongue.” Giles gave him a quizzical look before Spike expanded on the statement. “The name.”

“Well, the alliteration does that. That and the ironic symbolism, being you’re both opposites.”

“It does at that. Well, I guess I should get packed.” As Spike turned back to the bedroom, Giles called out to him.

“Should I call Buffy and let her know you’re on your way?”

Spike thought about that for a second, his hand on the jewelry box. “No. Think I’ll surprise her.” And, with that, Spike went into his room to pack for his journey back to Sunnydale.

Buffy could see that Dawn was on the verge of tears as they stood next to the altar, Xander and Anya standing in front of Father Harrison. Buffy gently nudged her little sister with her elbow, tenderly smiling at her, noting that she was on the verge of tears as well. This time, things had gone differently. No melee between the families. No Xander getting cold feet. No Mr. Harris acting lewdly toward any woman with a pulse. And no Spike. But now wasn’t the time for depressing thoughts. Now was a time of joy. Because two of her friends were getting married.

Willow stood next to Xander’s side, a gentle smile on her face as she looked from Xander to the bridesmaids, her gaze locking on Tara. Tara returned the smile as the Father began to speak.

“This is the time you have chosen to become husband and wife. We are here, not only to witness your commitment to each other, but also to wish you both every happiness in your future life together. Within its framework of commitment and loyalty marriage enables the establishment of a home, where through trust, patience and respect, the love and affection which you have for each other may develop into a deep and lasting relationship.”

The minister took a small breath, most likely to fill his lungs with air once again before continuing on.

“We who are witnessing your marriage, hope that despite the stresses inevitable in any life your love, respect for each other, your trust and understanding of each other will increase your contentment and heighten your joy in living.”

Xander gently smiled at Anya, she returning it in kind. As they looked lovingly into each other’s eyes, Father Harrison continued.

“Before you Xander and Anya are joined in marriage in my presence of these your family, friends and witnesses, I am to remind you of the serious and binding nature of the relationship you are now about to enter.”

Both nodded almost instinctively as they readied themselves for what was coming next.

“I shall now ask you to make your marriage vows.”

Xander looked at his wife to be, a small smile on his lips as he recited the words he had been waiting an eternity to say to the woman standing in front of him.

“I call upon all present to witness that I take you to be my lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health while we both shall live.”

Anya smiled at her soon to be ex-fiancé, tears threatening to come tumbling down. However, she took a deep breath, hoping that she wouldn’t make a mistake with her words.

“I call upon all present to witness that I take you to be my lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health while we both shall live.”

Buffy smiled at the words, marveling in the beauty of them as the minister continued with the ceremony.

“Xander, will you take Anya to be your lawful wife, will you love her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health and forsaking all others keep only unto her so long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“Anya, will you take Xander to be your lawful husband, will you love him, honor and keep him in sickness and in health and forsaking all others keep only unto him so long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

Upon hearing those words, Willow stepped to Xander’s side, presenting both participants with the rings. Xander took the ring from his best friend, a smile on his face as he looked at her. Anya also shared a smile with Willow, realizing that she was about to become a wife. Xander and Anya turned back to one another, Willow returning to her friend’s side.

“Anya, with this ring, I thee wed.”

Then he gently took her hand, slowly sliding on the wedding band onto Anya’s ring finger. Anya let out a subtle sigh as she began to speak.

“Xander, with this ring, I thee wed.”

Anya’s hands trembled a bit as she took Xander’s hand in her own, afraid that something might happen to stop this perfect moment. Fortunately, she didn’t have to worry because as soon as she slipped the ring onto Xander’s finger, the world kept on going. It was at that moment; Anya realized that this was indeed real. The minister spoke as soon as Anya placed the band on Xander’s finger.

“As you have consented together to be bound to one another in lawful marriage. You have made special promises to each other which have been symbolized by the joining of hands, taking of vows and by the giving and receiving of rings.”

Father Harrison paused for a moment, letting the weight of the words sink in for both participants. However, the words only made the other more sure that this was the right thing to do.

“By the authority vested in me, according to the laws of California I now pronounce you to be husband and wife.” He looked at both kindly, his last words filled with tenderness. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Xander slowly leaned down toward Anya, tenderly kissing his wife, Anya returning the kiss in kind. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause as the lovers separated, both realizing that the rest of their lives lay in front of them.

Buffy sat with the rest of her friends as they looked at the couples dancing on the ballroom floor, Xander and Anya at the center of the festivities. She smiled, the tears threatening to come once again. It was such a beautiful moment, two people declaring their undying love for one another. Buff wondered if that would ever happen for her. If she would ever find such happiness.

“What are you thinking about?”

Buffy turned her gaze from the floor, seeing Dawn’s quizzical look.

“What’s that, Dawnie?”

“You’ve got that look on your face again.”

“What look is that?”

Willow chimed in, also noting the look on Buffy’s face being similar to that on the balcony that night in Spike’s apartment.

“The look like you’re a million miles away.”

“Oh, that look.” Buffy wanly smiled, pushing away her thoughts of the future. “That’s because I have to stop off at the little girls’ room.” Buffy rose from the table, making her way to the bathroom even though she didn’t have use of it.

Willow looked back at Dawn and Tara, asking the obvious question. “Spike hasn’t called lately, has he?”

Tara answered, Dawn shaking her head. “No. But he’s probably busy with all that Council stuff.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it.” Willow shook her head, not entirely believing it. When he was a soulless vampire, he couldn’t stop thinking about Buffy. Now, with his being back from the dead, alive no less, he couldn’t even pick up the phone to see how she was doing. Maybe Willow was wrong about Spike. Maybe he was more evil now than before. Now, wasn’t that a thought to ponder.

As Willow sat with her friends, Xander sauntered over to the table, Anya by her side.

“Come on, guys. Up and at them. Time to get your groove on.” Anya responded in kind.

“Yes. My husband’s right. This is a joyous occasion. First we dance. Then we have the extra special sex.” Xander turned to his wife, a look of puzzlement on his face as Dawn and Tara shared a laugh, remembering back to the wedding store with Roy.

Xander shook off the comment, realizing that Buffy wasn’t present. “Hey, where’s Buffy?” Dawn answered.

“She went to powder her nose.”

Xander could sense the sudden turn in emotions at the table. “What is it?” Willow answered.

“She’s thinking about Spike.” Tara and Dawn nodded in agreement.

“God, I knew I should have told her.”

Anya looked at Xander, her arm wrapped around his. “Told her what?”

Xander took a deep breath before he spoke, unsure if he should tell his friends. But, with Buffy’s current dilemma, it seemed right to get it out in the open. “Spike’s not coming back.” Dawn took the news the hardest.

“What do you mean he’s not coming back? He said he would.”

“Dawn…”

“No, tell me why you’d even say something like that, Xander?”

Another deep breath before he spoke. “He told me he wasn’t. He asked me to look after Buffy because he wasn’t coming back.”

Tara spoke this time, curiosity getting the better of her. “But, that doesn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t he come back?”

Xander decided to be straightforward. “Because he said wasn’t sure if he ever loved her.”

The group remained in silence, the news sinking in. However, the sounds of the crowd in the ballroom coupled with the music covered the sounds of Buffy’s tears as she leaned against the column, the realization of Xander’s statement breaking her heart.

Although it had been only a day since she found out the dire news, Buffy still kept her promise. As soon as she had finished her rounds in the cemetery, she stopped by Spike’s apartment to water his flowers. However, standing there in the balcony, surrounded by his garden, Buffy couldn’t help buy shed a tear. The hope that she held had been shattered with only a few mere words.

But, there was the chance that Xander was wrong. Maybe Spike would come back. Maybe…

“Get a grip, Buffy.”

Buffy sighed as she swiped her cheek with her hand, moving back inside. She looked around the empty apartment, realizing that Spike would never be in her again. That he was on the other side of the planet, most likely moving on with his life. Buffy couldn’t understand why she couldn’t let go. He obviously did. Tears threatened to come once again, but Buffy maintained her composure, making her way to the front door. She only hoped it would get easier, trying to deal with the pain. Fortunately, she didn’t have to hope. Because of the voice.

“Losing your touch, Slayer.” Buffy turned around, thinking her eyes were playing tricks on her. She slowly approached the figure standing in front of her, touching his arm.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, luv. It’s me.”

Buffy shook her head, still believing her mind was tormenting her.

“God, I must be dreaming.” The sharp pain in her arm signified that she wasn’t. “Oww. Why’d you pinch me?”

“To prove that you’re not dreaming.” Spike looked down at her, a grin on his face. “But, that doesn’t excuse the fact that you didn’t realize that there was a potential killer in the same premises as you.

“What, you came back here to kill me?”

Spike chuckled slightly, the smile growing on his face. “Tried it once. Couldn’t do it.” Buffy smiled back at him, hearing the lightheartedness in his tone. “Besides, being on this side is a lot more attractive.”

“Is it?” Spike’s smile disappeared from his face, a look of confusion on his face. “Thought you weren’t coming back?”

The anger in his voice was subtle, but noticeable nonetheless. “Xander told you?”

“Not directly, but yeah.”

“Buffy, I wasn’t sure of my memories at the time.”

“So, you’re sure you were never in love with me now?”

Spike shook his head as he spoke. “Remind me to kill Xander when I see him.” Buffy began to turn around, but the arm on her shoulder stopped her. “Buffy, wait.”

“For what? You made it clear how you feel.” Spike sighed, frustration and worry in his voice.

“God, not even an hour and you’re already thinking the worst of me.” Buffy hung her head, shame beginning to overcome her. That was one habit she’d have to get rid of if there was still a chance for the man standing in front of her. Spike’s voice dropped to a whisper as he spoke. “Why do you think I came back, then?”

“I don’t know.” Spike’s hand gently cupped her chin, tilting it up slowly toward his gaze. Buffy realized why he had come back once she looked into his eyes. But, Spike vocalized his sentiment either way.

“I came back for you.”

Buffy gently smiled upon hearing those words. The fact that the emotion behind the words was sincere made her smile even more.

“Is that a fact?”

“Yeah, it is.”

Buffy moved closer to Spike, her hand gently encircling his. This time, Spike made no motion to pull away. Instead, he tenderly squeezed back, a soft smile on his face. Buffy leaned forward, about to kiss the man she had missed for what felt like an eternity. But, Spike pulled back, confusing Buffy even more.

“What is it?”

Spike tenderly caressed Buffy’s cheek with his fingers, a frown on his face. “I need time.”

“Time?” Buffy didn’t really understand the statement. “Time for what?”

“To do this right.” Buffy looked at him, puzzlement on her face, as Spike continued. “We did this the wrong way last time. We went too fast. I mean, I’ve seen you naked, but I have no idea what your favorite food is. What your favorite color is. Hell, what type of music you like.” Spike leaned forward, resting his forehead against Buffy’s. “This time, I want this to be perfect.”

Buffy smiled at his words. “Okay. I’ll give you all the time you need. On one condition.”

“What’s that, luv?”

Buffy leaned back, looking into Spike’s eyes. “Promise me you won’t leave me again.”

Spike smiled, moved at the words just spoken to him. He leaned forward, gently placing a kiss on Buffy’s forehead, whispering against her hair. “I promise.”

“Good.” Buffy backed away from their embrace, slowly moving toward the door. “Well, you should get settled back in. I’ll see you later, okay.” As Buffy began to move, Spike turned her around again, this time with more urgency.

“Just because I want to take it slow doesn’t mean I haven’t been dying to kiss you since I stepped foot on U.S. soil.” Before Buffy could respond, Spike’s lips gently covered hers, his hand cupping the side of her face as he did so. After a moment that seemed foreign yet all so familiar, Spike pulled away, both breathing hard. “I missed you.”

Buffy replied in kind. “I missed you too.” Buffy’s lips fell on Spike’s once again, thanking whoever was watching over her for giving her a second chance with the man in her arms.

The man stood near the gate to Spike’s apartment complex, looking up to the door marked number 220. As he adjusted his hat, another individual stepped behind him. While the act would have scared a normal person, this wasn’t the case for the man standing by the gate. Instead, he responded with a greeting.

“Hello, Gabriel.”

“Whistler.”

Both now looked up at the apartment, knowing what was next. Gabriel made no motion, still standing behind Whistler. “You know, this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Yeah, I know. But, who could have foreseen the Key’s interference.”

Gabriel moved his hands into his coat pockets, the wind now blowing the tail in the gust. “You really think they’ll be able to stop what’s coming?”

Whistler turned around, facing the individual that towered over him. “They have to. If not, Dante’s going to get his wish. And, you know what will happen if he does.”

Gabriel quietly growled under his breath, speaking in frustration. “All this for a woman. I don’t get it.”

“You would if you ever loved someone, Gabriel.” Gabriel dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand, Whistler continuing. “Where’s Haruna?”

“She surfaced somewhere close. Maybe San Francisco or Los Angeles. Couldn’t really tell with the phalanx on our tails.”

Whistler nodded, a frown on his face. “We need to find her to figure out our next step.”

Gabriel voiced his agreement. “And soon. From what I’ve been sensing, Dante’s already here.”

The news threw Whistler for a loop, he almost doing a double take at the information. “How? I didn’t feel any indication.”

Gabriel let out a slight chuckle, the wind subsiding. “You’re only a demon. I’m closer to Dante’s kind.”

Whistler nodded, understanding the man’s words. “Well, anyway. We should find Haruna.”

Gabriel nodded as he began to walk away from the apartment complex. Whistler looked back at the door numbered 220, a sigh escaping his lips as he spoke. “Hope you’re ready, Slayer. Because you’re about to find out what true loss is.” With that, he disappeared into the night.

Ray Crichton had sent a crew of men to check out the disturbance on the field. Ever since that night when he was checking his books, the flow from the field had been abnormal. Almost like the pipes were damaged. However, when the men hadn’t reported back the next day, Ray began to worry. The field was already losing money, and to lose a crew on top of that was the last straw.

So, Ray decided what the hell and did something he hadn’t done in a long time. He actually went out to the site to see what was going on. As the jeep pulled up to the approximate location of the abnormality, Ray’s eyes widened in horror upon the sight in front of him.

He now knew why his men hadn’t radioed back. Because there bodies were strewn about the field, their corpses horribly mutilated. Ray pulled out the revolver from the dash, cautiously walking through the field of bodies, looking for the cause of his men’s deaths. While common sense would have told him to run back to the office and call for help, the fact that the field was losing money was more than enough to make Ray disregard the evident danger around him.

A sound from his side startled Ray, making him squeeze the trigger, a bullet impacting against the ground. Ray took a deep breath upon seeing the armadillo scurrying away from the scene. However, the next sound didn’t sound like an armadillo. As Ray turned around, his vision was blinded by the harsh glow even though the sun was fully out.

“Who…who’s there?” To say Ray was frightened was an understatement.

“Where am I?”

The voice sounded unearthly, as though it was reverberating in Ray’s head instead of traveling through the air to reach his ears.

“Did…did you kill my men?”

The answer was a succinct one. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because they attacked me. All I wanted to know was where I am.”

Ray began to back up, the gun held forward toward the harsh glow moving in his direction. Ray thought his eyes were playing tricks on him because he could have sworn he saw a silhouette of a body within the light.

“You’re…you’re in Austin. Austin, Texas.”

The figure’s glow began to subside, Ray’s eyes not deceiving him initially. From the light emerged a man with long silver hair, a solitary overthrow on his person. Almost like a poncho. The man began to move toward Ray, Ray’s fear overcoming him. Without thinking, Ray squeezed the trigger again. And again. And again. When the click of the chamber resonated in the air, Ray dropped the gun, realizing that the man was still standing, a look of disinterest on his face.

“Violent race. And, to think, I originally had qualms about exterminating your kind.”

Ray continued to back away from the man, his foot stumbling against one of the bodies, Ray falling to his knees. The man moved in front of him, Ray noticing that his hands were now covered in the same light the man was once blanketed with earlier.

“Please…please.” The words came from Ray’s lips, tinted with fear and sorrow. “I…I have a family. Two boys.”

The man gave Ray a gentle smile, indicating to Ray that his plea was considered. Ray began to let out a sigh of relief, but before he could, the man’s hand flew across Ray’s view, Ray trying to comprehend what had just happened.

“They’re better off without you.”

Little did Ray Crichton know, those would be the last words he would hear as the man looked down at him, Ray’s head falling from his neck onto the ground. The man began walking away from the carnage, his direction westward. He never looked back as he spoke to no one in particular.

“I’m coming, Haruna. Heaven nor Hell will stop me. This I promise.”

~Fin~



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