Where Angels Tread
By Spike SpeigelOnce Upon A Time
Cordelia groggily made her way down the steps to the lobby, trying to muster enough lucidity for her requisite trip to the kitchen to brew up that bitter yet aromatic morning cup of coffee. She didn’t much care for the taste, but after the dreams she had the previous night, she would rather be awake right now. Anything instead of facing those dreams again. However, she noticed that someone was already in the lobby. Someone she wasn’t ready to confront after the turmoil she had faced in her dreams the previous night.
“Hey, Angel.”
He never looked up from the slip of paper in his hands, his brow furrowed as though the words were causing him physical pain. Cordelia awkwardly made her way to his side, half expecting him to conceal the note’s contents from her because he thought she wasn’t good enough to be in the loop in Angel Investigations. However, he never moved. Instead, he brought the note down to chest level so Cordelia could see what he was reading. As her eyes gazed across the words, Spike’s voice filling her mind as she read the words he left.
Sorry for the nightly exit, mate. But Buffy and I are needed back in Sunnydale. Borrowed your car. I’ll get it back to you once everything’s situated. Still have to have that pint, yeah?
Spike
Cordelia looked up to Angel, immediately recognizing the look on his face. She spoke, hoping to assuage his fears. “If they needed our help, they would have asked.”
Angel nodded slightly while he spoke. “Yeah, I know you’re right, Cordy. But it’s not like Buffy to just leave without a goodbye. This must be serious.”
“Angel, I know that you want to help them. But we have stuff that needs tending to here.” Angel sighed, a hint of frustration in his voice, as Cordelia gently squeezed his forearm. “We’ve still got Jack Tweedy’s last words to look into. We’ve got to verify whether or not he was right about Spike bringing about Armageddon.”
“You’re right.” Angel turned his gaze from the frantically scrawled note Spike had left toward Cordelia. “Doesn’t mean that I like it, though.”
Cordelia gently smiled at Angel, realizing that her fears from the previous night were unfounded. The look they shared proved that. She could feel the warmth and respect in his eyes as her arm gently wrapped about his. “Come on. I’ll heat you up a nice cup of pig’s blood.” Angel softly chuckled as Cordelia began to guide him toward the kitchen. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Angel?” She playfully nudged his ribcage with her elbow, Angel relenting to her whims.
“I’m still not used to this.” Cordelia looked up at him, confusion enveloping her countenance. “You being okay with me being a vampire.”
“I’ve been here for four years now and you think I’d still have problems with that? Trust me, honey, if there’s anything that still bothers me, it’s not the blood.” Angel looked at her in curiosity as she continued. “If anything, it’s the fact you haven’t introduced any color to your wardrobe in those years that I find truly disturbing.”
They both shared a small laugh as they walked through the doorway leading to the kitchen.
“Now, Glory? Is that anyway to treat your new best friend?”
Connor remained at Dawn’s side, his hands now clasped onto her upper arms, trying to alleviate the spasms that continued to course through her body. However, his eyes remained locked at the scene playing out in front of him. A nude woman had literally fallen from the sky. Well, a hole in the sky, in any case. And now, said nude woman was about to show Dante what for. Her voice was confirmation of her current disposition.
That was, until she heard Dante’s question again. Instead of marching purposefully toward Dante, rage bubbling in her eyes, she simply paused and eyed the person standing in front of her. Needless to say, the lack of clothing wasn’t an issue.
“Wait. I know that voice.” She hesitated before stepping forward, her movement akin to walking on broken glass. “Let me see your face.”
“If you insist, Glory.” Dante casually moved forward, the light pouring into the room now bathing over his visage as well. “Or do you prefer Glorificus? Bother, my mind does seem to be having trouble putting all the pieces back together. But then, considering where I’ve been the past few years, it’s a small miracle I’m even competent, let alone in charge of my faculties. Wouldn’t you agree?”
The response wasn’t what Connor had expected. The hate and anger immediately left Glory’s face, replaced by something new. Connor didn’t know if he was right, but he could have sworn that the woman’s hands were trembling. But it wasn’t cold in the room. Then again, she was naked. And the room was a tad on the drafty side.
“You son of a bitch. How did you get out? After what you did, you were supposed to be contained…”
“Until the universe ended. And then some.” Dante stepped toward the naked woman. However, the distance between the two remained the same when Glory took a step back. Connor finally realized what had taken residence of Glory’s emotions. It was fear. “Come now, Glory. Why do you retreat into the shadows?”
“You know damn well why. The things you did. And for what? She ended up staying with us and you were banished for all eternity.”
“Be careful where your tongue takes you.” Glory’s words came out jumbled as she began to look for an apology, the right one not coming. Maybe it did, but the other apologies amalgamated with it just made her speech incoherent. Dante could see her discomfort was growing with every waning moment, so he intervened before the situation got any worse. “Glory, I said I wouldn’t hurt you and my word is bond.”
Glory finally composed herself. “Why did you bring me back to this plane of existence? What could you possibly need me for, what with your abilities?”
Dante’s answer was concise. “The Slayer.”
“Oh, God. Not that bitch again.” Dante looked on at Glory, curiosity gracing his face. “That tramp killed my Benji!” Dante nodded slightly, as though he knew what the hell Glory was talking about. “Then again, Benji’s death did return me to my dimension. You know, if I hadn’t been dependent on cerebral energy from these pitiful creatures, I probably would have figured that out and not even have to bother with the Slayer and the Key.”
“You mean that Key?”
Glory followed Dante’s gaze until hers fell upon Connor, still kneeling next to an unconscious Dawn, her spasms beginning to subside. “Oh, what the hell?!? What is she doing here?”
“She brought you back.” Glory quickly turned her gaze back to Dante, the fear now being replaced by inquisitiveness. “She was the only one able to cut through dimensions to get you here. A shame she doesn’t know the amount of power she wields.”
“Unlike you, right?”
Dante chuckled slightly. “You still won’t forgive me? I had my reasons…”
“For what? Slaughtering most of Hell? If I didn’t swallow my pride and form an allegiance with the other Hellgods, God knows how many of us you would have gone through just to get to your whor…”
Before the word had a chance to hit the air, Dante’s hand was clutched tightly about Glory’s throat, squeezing. As his words came, Glory could have sworn that the room had grown colder.
“This is your final warning, Glorificus. Speak ill of her again and I’ll kill you without a second thought. You know I can. You’re nothing to me. People fear going to Hell when they don’t know the truth. There are worse monsters than you waiting for their souls. Worse than they can imagine. You know what I’m capable of. He knows what I’m capable of. That’s why I was banished. And he’s only banished one other person.”
With that, his hand was gone from her throat just as quickly as it had been there. Glory immediately gasped for air, her mouth moving almost like a fish in water. As her breathing became rhythmic once again, she inwardly cursed her frailties being on this plane of existence. “So what now? You smack me around whenever I mention her?”
“She has a name.”
Glory decided to gauge the level of anger emanating within Dante, knowing that her next word might just be the death of her. After all, death was universal. Even to a god. “Haruna.”
“I see you remember her name.”
“How could I forget her? She had her own corner of Hell. No one would ever touch her after what you did. It took us years to get the fires going again.” Dante smiled at the memory as Glory continued. “So, why do you need me to deal with the Slayer? Just find her and snap her scrawny neck.”
“I can’t do that without giving my whereabouts away. You honestly don’t think I’m the only one that came back, do you?”
“What are you talking about?”
Dante began to speak, but not to Glory. Instead, it sounded like he was reading from an instruction booklet. “If there is an imbalance in the boundaries, it is the duty of the right hand to insure that balance is restored.” Dante looked over to Connor, who was still trying to process exactly what was transpiring in front of him. “Connor, would you be so good as to take Ms. Summers into the next room?”
Connor was about to argue, but thought better of it. “Yes, sir. I’ll just get some water for the girl.”
“Fine. Fine. You’re a good man, Connor.” With that, Connor began undoing the ropes that were now digging into Dawn’s skin since she no longer had the ability to sit upright. Connor expected Dante to resume his conversation with Glory, but that didn’t happen. Instead, Dante continued to watch on in idle curiosity as Connor removed Dawn’s bonds, Glory remaining silent all the while.
Without waiting for the conversation to continue, Connor gently lifted Dawn into his arms and walked into the next room, which luckily was a bedroom. At least she’d be able to rest after her ordeal.
With Connor gone, Dante turned back to Glory. “You know what I’m talking about. Correct?”
“Yeah, I know. But Gabriel’s an old man, even by our standards. Do you really think he’ll be able to stop you?”
“Doesn’t matter if he can or not. He only has one role, and that’s to ultimately find me. And I cannot be found before I finish what I’ve come here to do.”
“Which is what, exactly?”
“All in good time. But first, I need you to occupy yourself with the Slayer.”
“Occupy? Is that some kind of fancy code for ‘kill her’? If not, I’m really confused for why the hell you’d need me.”
Dante smiled slightly, explaining his actions. “All of her battles, all of her struggles, you’re the only one that’s killed her.” Dante paused, correcting his original words. “Well, there was this one vampire, but that wasn’t really much of a death.”
“I didn’t kill her. She killed herself, jumping through the gate to seal it.”
“Nevertheless, your actions led to her ultimate demise. I need your whimsy, your penchant, for getting under her skin.”
Once again, the anger was beginning to seep into Glory’s being. What right did Dante have to use her as a lowly errand girl? “And what? Play musical chairs with her until you’re done with whatever it is you have to do?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“Then you’ll return me to my dimension?”
“Depends.”
Glory sighed, realizing that things were getting difficult. “Fine, I’ll bite. Depends on what?”
Dante smiled as his gaze fell onto the bedroom opening. “Depends on whether or not you can keep Ms. Summers in your confines when the Slayer comes looking for her.”
“Wait, you’re saying you can’t send me back?”
“Not directly, no. I need the Key to send you back. So, you’ve got two options. One; follow my orders and I’ll send you back.”
Dante paused, Glory’s impatience getting the better of her. “And two?”
“Two; I kill you now and look for another alternative.”
Glory nodded slightly, realizing that there was always just one choice when it came to Dante. “Fine. In that case, can I get some clothes? I’m starting to feel a little overexposed here.”
Fred didn’t realize that it was morning until the nurse came into the room, sunlight from the window pouring into the empty room. She instinctively blinked her eyes, trying to prevent the harsh glare from hurting her sleep-glazed eyes. The nurse sympathetically smiled at Fred as she laid the tray next to Gunn’s bed.
“Miss, you really should get some rest. We’ll let you know when the doctor’s ready to release him.”
Fred casually pinched a portion of the runny scrambled eggs between her fingers, deftly tossing the fragment into her mouth, she speaking as she chewed the wet, slightly bitter concoction. “I’m not going anywhere. Not without him.”
The groan from the bed drew Fred’s attention, turning from the nurse to the bed. “She’s right, honey. Go home. They’ll let you know when I can leave, isn’t that right, Miss…?”
“Just call me Millie.”
Gunn nodded as he continued. “Isn’t that right, Millie?”
“That’s right, Mr. Gunn.”
Gunn smiled as he pushed himself upright on his elbows. “It’s just Gunn.” As Gunn maneuvered himself upright, Fred moved to his side, about to help him up when Gunn waved her off with a flick of his wrist. “No. I should get used to this.”
“But, Charles…”
“Baby, I’m okay.” One quick push from the mattress and Gunn was now sitting upright, a slight smile gracing his face as he spoke. “See?”
“Okay, I get the point, Charles. But you shouldn’t be rushing yourself. You’ve been through a lot.”
Gunn gently sighed under his breath as he spoke. “That’s one way to put it.”
“Honey, I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay. I know what you meant, Fred.”
Nurse Millie, seeing that the atmosphere in the room was beginning to become awkward, decided now was a good time to get a doctor to check in on young Mr. Gunn. Such a sweet couple. Too bad something like this had to happen to them. “I’ll go and see if Dr. Ramcharan is available to see you.”
Gunn nodded as Nurse Millie made a quick exit. “So, what’s for breakfast?”
“Some yellow stuff, some brown stuff, and some orange stuff.”
Gunn smiled as he motioned to Fred. “You mind bringing some of those colors over here?”
“Oh, sorry.” Fred carefully placed the tray on Gunn’s lap, Gunn grabbing the plastic fork that lay to the side of the tray. He stabbed a forkful of egg, hungrily placing it into his mouth. Unfortunately, the sensation wasn’t what he was expecting. “Doesn’t taste too yellow, does it?”
Gunn forcefully swallowed the bite before speaking. “I don’t think there’s a word to describe it.”
Fred nodded as she moved from the chair, sitting next to Gunn in the bed. Her hand fell onto his, her grasp gentle. “Any change?” Gunn shook his head slightly, trying to push the feelings of doubt to the back of his mind. Fred’s hand slowly slid to Gunn’s thigh, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “The doctor says there’s still a chance…”
“Twenty percent.”
“That’s right.” Fred fought back the tears threatening to douse her eyes. “You’ll be back to yourself in no time.”
Gunn meekly smiled, appreciating the front his girlfriend was putting up. “It’s just weird.”
“What is?”
Gunn’s mind forced his legs to move, to twitch, to do anything. But the result was the same as the last time he tried to move them. “It feels like half of me is dead, Fred. Like half of me is dead.”
Fred gently leaned against her boyfriend as they waited for the latest news from Dr. Ramcharan.
She hadn’t said word one since they left the Hyperion. Instead, she just gazed off into the distant horizon, her hair streaming behind her like a cloud trying to keep pace with her. Spike thought she was just lost in thought, worried about her sister’s well being. After all, Dawn was the only family she had left. Well, she had her father; but when it came to real family, there was Dawn and that was pretty much it.
However, the silence was starting to make him feel uneasy. “What’s wrong, luv?”
Buffy slowly turned around to face Spike, her eyes lost in thought. “What’s that?”
“We’ve been on the road for half an hour now and you haven’t said a word. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Her eyes wandered, looking at everything in Spike’s direction except for him. He could pick that look out in a sea of strangers, it being undeniable.
“Alright. You don’t wanna talk about it, I can respect that. It’s just…”
“Just what?”
Spike looked off into the night, the headlights the only illumination. “What kind of future are we looking at, eh? Not even a month and secrets are already coming between us. I meant it when I said I wanted this to be right, this time. But, maybe that’s just me.” Somewhat frustrated, he sighed while turning the wheel slightly to accommodate the slight turn on the highway.
Looking out onto the surroundings racing past him, he felt Buffy’s hand now on his free one. He looked over slightly, never completely taking his eyes from the road.
“I had a bad dream.”
“A dream?”
Buffy frowned slightly, her gaze fixed on him as he continued to drive. “It didn’t feel natural. It felt almost…”
Spike finished her sentence for her. “Almost prophetic?”
Her voice was meek, yet ashamed at the same time. “Yeah.”
“Well, tell me about it. Maybe we can figure out what it means, yeah?”
“I don’t know.” The doubt was beginning to fill her once again. “It…it was kinda about us.”
The road suddenly lost the battle as Spike began to let up on the gas, his attention on Buffy now. “Uh oh. This can’t be good.”
“No. No. It’s nothing like that. Well, I’m not sure.” Buffy pulled her hand away from Spike, folding them in her lap while she spoke. “The last time I had a dream this vivid, I…” He deserved the truth. If she truly wanted to make a future with him. “I ended up losing Angel.”
Spike looked at her, puzzlement on his face, until he finally comprehended what Buffy was trying to say. “You mean, Angel losing his soul, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“And what? You afraid you’re gonna lose me too, now?”
“Something like that.”
Spike’s eyes turned back to the road in front of him, only a few cars in his sight as they continued their trek back to Sunnydale. He let escape a small sigh before speaking. “Buffy, I know that your dreams are usually more resonant that some regular bloke’s, and I know there’s probably nothing I can say to change your mind. But I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”
“What if you can’t prevent it?”
“Doesn’t matter. Found my way back to you once. I can do it again. No matter how many times we get pulled apart.”
Buffy smiled slightly, the sincerity in his words calming her. But, she knew that Spike wasn’t the problem. She was. What if her dream was right? What if she truly couldn’t love, the life of a Slayer making her callous to emotion? But, the first Slayer had told her that she was full of love. So, why was this such an issue?
“Buffy? You okay?”
“Hmm?”
“You started to drift there.”
Buffy didn’t want to lie, but she needed to keep this to herself before she figured out what the dream had meant. “It’s nothing. We should get back as fast as we can.” With that, she looked off into the night, her gaze averted from Spike’s. A now confused Spike.
“Right.” With that, he sped up once again. That was the last word spoken between the two of them for the duration of the drive.
A.D. 813
The scar on his left cheek was a reminder of the previous battle. It had only been two cycles ago, but the damage on the village had been done. The one whom the villagers looked to in times of need. Rurouni looked out from the entrance of his ramshackle hut and surveyed the extent of the nomads’ attack. He was not one of them, but their battle had become his. Ever since he and his sister stumbled into the village, the people had accepted them as family, although their outward appearances were strikingly different.
While the bodies had been given a proper burial, the smell of decaying flesh remained, the scent becoming all too familiar to the villagers. Rurouni could feel the hopelessness in the air. It was almost as if the villagers were beginning to pray for a quick end, the struggle to survive becoming more of a burden than an obligation. Even he began to feel the despair beginning to seep into his soul. Ever so slightly, but it was still there.
The foreigner stood up slowly, his hand on the sheath of the sword that remained constantly by his side. He began to walk through the village, thinking that the act of walking would be enough to drive the thoughts from his mind. Unfortunately, he was wrong.
Rurouni’s eyes fell upon the children playing a few feet away from him, not a care in the world. Was he ever that innocent? He tried to recollect a happier time in his life. One that didn’t end in death. He thought of his parents. Of how the shogunate had executed them as he and his sister fled into the darkness of night. That was the night he killed for the first time. He thanked his father for teaching him the art of the sword as he protected his sister, the smell of blood new, yet welcoming, to him. He had lost count of how many of the Emperor’s men he had slain. It didn’t matter. Tomoe was safe. That was all that mattered. His sister was his life after that. He swore to his parents that he’d protect her. No matter what. Rurouni could only wonder what his parents thought of him now.
The little girl waved at him, calling him by his adopted name. She behaved so much like Tomoe. Her hair was shorter than his sister’s, and the freckles on her small face distinguished her. But, other than that, the girl was the splitting image of his sister. Wasn’t she? It had only been two cycles since…
Rurouni smiled quickly before moving past the children as the thought reverberated in his head. Try as he could, Tomoe’s face was beginning to evade him. It had only been two cycles. Only two cycles. How could she have left him? Left him without a chance to say goodbye.
The screams came without warning, quickly followed by smoke. Rurouni turned his gaze to the commotion as the explosions resonated in the distance. It had only been two cycles. The nomads were moving in for the kill. And God help them if the villagers expected to see another sunrise. The sword came from the sheath effortlessly as he began to make his way toward the battle, calling upon the men to aid him.
To no avail. His initial account of the village was precise. The men stared out into the distance, waiting for the inevitable. Be it today, tomorrow or the next harvest. The outcome would still be the same. And they were so tired.
Rurouni continued forward, his strides coming faster as the surroundings rushed past him. He had promised his parents that he would fight until there was peace throughout the lands. He would be Heaven’s justice. Now, more than ever, he held his parents’ words close to his heart, Tomoe’s face beginning to come more into focus in his mind’s eye.
He smiled slightly as his sword began to move of its own accord. The nomads continued to attack, but none were able to touch him. It was as if he was being led by a greater power, the enemy falling about him as though they were autumn leaves floating gently to the earth. The screams about him began to fade out, becoming mere echoes, as Rurouni continued to protect the village. He may not be one of them, but he was family. And he’d protect them to the very end.
His sword flew true, biting into the flesh of the enemy before they knew that they had been given entry into Death’s domain. Rurouni savored the looks on their faces as they realized that their life had been taken by one fell swoop of a thin piece of metal. His father’s sword. Even now, he could feel his father’s presence as he continued through the melee.
That was, until his leg exploded into an amalgamation of flesh and bone. Rurouni fell to his knees, instinct preventing him from grasping at the wound even though it hurt to no end. Instead, he continued to fight, even though he was no longer mobile. His eyes scanned the horizon to find the source of his injury, to no avail. The nomads hindered his view as they continued unabated, the screams from the villagers beginning to seep back into his consciousness. Rurouni couldn’t help but think that this was a portent.
The explosion against his chest answered him definitely as he the pain finally became unbearable, the scream emanating from his lips unearthly. He expected the attackers to finish him quickly, to make him suffer. However, this wasn’t the case
Instead, they turned their attention to the villagers, leaving Rurouni in a confused daze while the blood poured freely from his chest and leg. The sword planted itself into the earth as he tried to stand. He lifted himself onto one leg until the pain coursed through his body, Rurouni falling back onto his knees.
Through the screams of anguish and pleasure, Rurouni could hear the footfalls approaching. He willed his gaze to look up, his hands on the hilt of his father’s sword, still trying to lift himself up to continue the fight. That’s when he saw the man moving the quiver about his shoulder as he placed the arrow back in its holder.
The man stood in front of Rurouni, a subtle smile of admiration on his face while he spoke. “Impressive. One man, killing so many. And so obstinate. Tell me, what do they call you?”
“Why?”
The nomad chuckled slightly, as though he was having a conversation with a dear friend. “I want to know who I’m sending to hell. The villagers call you Rurouni. Wanderer. Tell me your true name. Warrior to warrior.”
Rurouni lifted his head, his vision becoming blurry. Then, with a slight smile on his face as he prepared himself for the inevitable, he answered his killer’s question.
“Dante.”
“I wait for the day I see you again, Dante.”
Dante looked past the nomad, his gaze falling out into the distance. Behind the nomad, in the mix of the slaughter of the villagers, there stood his sister. Tomoe. She had a gentle smile on her face as she walked toward her older brother. Dante cherished the fact that the last thing he saw in life was his sister’s gentle face. He never felt the knife as it plunged into his skull.
A.D. 1986
The bruise on her left cheek had swollen, the makeup no longer able to conceal the discoloration. She didn’t go into work, instead calling in sick. There were things that needed her attention at home. Preparations before Ray came home.
Ray hadn’t always been like this. He had loved her when they first met. When they made love under the starlight in the back of his pick up. When he had asked her to marry him at the tender age of twenty. Her parents had thought it a bad idea. She was rushing into something that she wasn’t ready for.
But, she was ready. Ready to leave the small town life behind her and venture out into the city. She had imagined a life of excitement and wonder once they reached the city. And she was right. At least at first.
She had given birth to their first son in the winter of 1978. She had wanted to name him David, after her father, but Ray didn’t much care for the name. Instead, their first son went by the name Daniel. Their second son didn’t enter the picture until the spring of 1980. This one she did get to name David. Mainly because Ray didn’t seem too concerned with things at home, work beginning to take up more and more of his time. After all, the bills didn’t pay themselves, as he had said on numerous occasions.
Ray never touched her, at least not intimately, once he got his promotion to vice president of the company. She knew that he had more work, what with his new title. But, never would she have guessed that he was cheating on her. Not until that fateful night.
The boys were over at their grandparents, while she was supposed to be visiting her sister in Tulsa. However, her flight had been canceled based on the harsh snowfall. The next flight would be in a few days. That was okay, though. A few days alone with Ray couldn’t be all bad, now could it?
She didn’t realize the answer until she came home that night. His car was in the driveway, early. It was only seven-thirty. Maybe he was able to get away from work? Maybe he heard about the snowstorm on the news and wanted to wait for her and cheer her up? Maybe.
But, that wasn’t the case. The load moans coming from their bedroom said otherwise. She knew those sounds. She had made those sounds for him once upon a time. When he still touched her. Like he did that night when he proposed to her.
She slowly made her way up the stairs, each step closer to the bedroom more frightening than the previous. She didn’t want to know what was happening behind the door. But, she had to know. If only to put her mind at ease, in a rather twisted sense of the word.
The bed creaked as the headboard crashed continually against the boys’ bedroom wall. She could hear Ray as he groaned loudly, the feminine voice matching him in cadence. Her lower lip fell between her teeth as she hesitantly opened the door. As the door swung slowly open, her worst fears were finally visible, no longer a figment of her imagination.
While the man held on to the woman’s legs as he thrust continually into her looked like her husband, the look that graced his face as he realized that there was someone else in the room shook her to her very foundation. Ray quickly raced from the bed, his lover still confused as to what was transpiring. As his wife tried to explain herself, Ray grabbed her fiercely by the hair, slamming her face against the doorjamb.
She could only make out a few words through her fuzzy senses, the pain beginning to surge through her body. Ray threw words like whore and slut at her as she lay at his feet. She wondered if he was talking about the woman in their bed, but realized it was her. The foot to the side of her ribcage answered any lingering doubts as to whom those words were meant for.
She could hear the footfalls of the other woman as she quickly made her way out of the bedroom, her job already done. She didn’t recall the rest of the night, however. Because she blacked out somewhere between the third to fourth slap to her face.
And that was how it started. She had to wonder if this was all her fault. After all, Ray had always been kind to her. Gentle. Until that night when she discovered his secret. That was when Ray transformed from loving husband to something else. Something she didn’t recognize. Something that scared her.
When she tried to leave Ray the first time, he had broken her arm as Daniel and David looked on. Daniel had tried to help his mother, but Ray had rewarded his nobility by knocking him unconscious with the back of his fist. David just stood there and cried as his mother tried to calm him. It almost worked. Until Ray started to strangle him to cease his incessant bawling.
That was when the woman realized that Ray was gone. In his place was this monster that beat her for sheer amusement and terrified her children to the point of tears. She had asked him one day why he was treating his family like this. She never forgot his words before the belt came across her back, the buckle digging into her flesh.
Because I can. You’ve been nothing to me but a whore. Nothing more.
The memory fell to the wayside as she walked up the stairs. Daniel and David were still sleeping. She wanted to make sure they were tucked in before Ray came home. There was no other choice. She had to tell herself that. No one believed her when she spoke of the abuse Ray had begun inflicting on her. After all, whom would you believe? A stand up member of the neighborhood whose donations contributed to the new park that the local children played at, or his nobody wife?
When she had told her parents of what was transpiring, the response was not what she expected. Her father had told her that it served her right, while her mother remained silent, never looking at her little girl. That was the last time she talked to them.
The bedroom door swung open as the woman walked slowly into the room. Daniel and David were still in their beds, fast asleep. She walked over to the bunk bed, her smile turning into a grimace as she realized what she had done. But, it was the only way. They didn’t feel any pain. The diluted sleeping pills in their milk saw to that.
It was still eerie, looking at them like this. Her little boys. Little dolls. Not moving. Not breathing. Peaceful. She had to do it. It was only a matter of time before one of Ray’s tantrums got directed to them. And she wouldn’t be able to live with the thought of Ray hurting her little angels.
The front door slammed close, the sound echoing up to the boys’ bedroom. He was home. Too soon. She hadn’t had time to drug herself. No choice. She had to end it before it got worse. She reached into her pocket, pulling out her husband’s revolver. The last thing Haruna saw before pulling the trigger were her two boys. Safe from Ray.
“Buffy, thank God you two are back.”
Buffy walked into the living room, Spike close behind. She made her way toward Willow and Tara as Spike maintained his distance, allowing Buffy her space.
“So, what have you two been able to find out?”
Tara spoke as Willow tried to maintain her composure, the fear of Buffy blaming her for losing Dawn on her mind. “Her study group said that she left the library about eight, so somewhere between there and here, she got kidnapped.”
“Any sign of struggle?”
“We’re not entirely sure, but the trace spell that Willow used showed that the last place Dawn was at was the park.”
The situation didn’t add up in Buffy’s mind as she spoke. “The last place?”
Willow spoke, answering her friend’s question. “The spell just stops in the park. It’s like…” Willow took a calming breath before continuing. “It’s like she was swallowed up by the universe.”
Buffy nodded, realizing that whoever took Dawn didn’t want her finding her little sister. She turned to Spike as she spoke. “We should go check out the park, see if we can find anything else.” Her gaze fell on the two witches, urgency in her voice. “You guys try the locator spell again. Start from the library this time and see where it leads you.”
Willow and Tara nodded agreement as they began to gather up their spellbooks. As Buffy began to walk toward Spike, she could see the worry evident on his face. “Hey you.”
“Hey.”
“You don’t think we’ll find her?”
Spike frowned as he spoke. “Not in time. They have such a lead on us.” He sighed, frustration tinting his voice. “Hell. We don’t even know who ‘they’ are.”
“We’ll find her. I know we will.”
Spike smiled at Buffy, she returning it in kind. Even now, he seemed like such a different person than the one she had met all those years ago. She had seen him change through the years. To the person he was right now. The person that loved her. And her family. Maybe the dream was wrong.
She didn’t get the chance to contemplate the thought as the front door flew off the hinges, slamming against the stairwell. The group turned toward the door, trying to make out the silhouette through the woodchips and dust. When the cloud finally settled, Buffy took a step back, not believing what her eyes were showing her.
“Glory?”
“Hello, bitch! I was in the neighborhood. Decided to stop by and say hi.”