When Eternity Lies In The BalanceBy Jericho TGF
Chapter Twelve
She hadn’t felt a thing. It had been just that fast. One minute Buffy was walking through her front door, stepping onto the porch, the next she was standing in an echo chamber of a room - black stone under her feet and marble walls and pillars around her.
Disoriented at the sudden shift of locales if not at the shift itself, Buffy spun around quickly, checking out her surroundings. Like a thick velvet cloak settling comfortably around her shoulders, the Slayer came forth, wrapping around and through her body with soothing warmth, altering her stance and increasing her senses to their maximum limits. It felt different somehow, this gathering of her power, but Buffy was too concerned with trying to figure out what the hell just happened to spend time trying to identify the difference.
That’s when she noticed her clothing had changed. Gone were the shorts and halter-top she’d been wearing in the other realm, replaced by a pair of gray, loose-fitting pants and a white, long-sleeved and high-collared light sweater. It was a familiar outfit. It was the outfit she wore the night she fought Glory. The night she died.
O-kay. No time for an attack of the wiggins, Buffy. Sure, you’ve just been set down God knows where and had a nice little fashion retrofitting as a bonus, but still. Not close to as weird as you’ve seen it get. No big.
She worked her way around one of the ceiling-high marble pillars and caught sight of a staircase in the back of the room leading up to a domed archway. A domed archway that appeared to lead nowhere. She looked around nervously and realized there wasn’t a single door or window in the room. She got in, but she had no clue how to get out.
Something about the place tugged at her mind, something familiar about the architecture and décor. What was it?
Shrugging the feeling away, she carefully started to investigate the room. There had to be a way out of there, some hidden door or passageway. She just needed to find it.
“Welcome, Slayer.”
The feminine voice spun Buffy around and her eyes searched wildly for the person responsible for the hail. She found them. Standing at the top of the staircase, a place that had been empty not more than a minute earlier, were two...beings. Coiffed and dressed in full Roman regalia from their hairstyles to their togas to their sandaled feet were a man and a woman...of sorts…who appeared to be having some serious skin issues. They were green. And gold.
That’s when it hit her. Oracles. These were the Oracles. The ancient Rome motif, the skin color. Spike had told her, but at the time she’d been too angry and disgusted with him to pay close attention to the details. These were the entities that sent Spike into heaven to get her.
Oh man, I am so gonna stake that vampire. He could have mentioned that the trip back wasn’t going to be a direct flight for the one of us that’s me. A head’s up about the nifty layover should have been considered need to know information.
As irritated as she was that Spike had been less than completely forthcoming about this neat little addendum to the ‘coming back from the dead’ plan, her Slayer sense relaxed. It was as if, of its own volition, the velvet cloak that was her power gently pulled itself back from her, sliding away and rolling up until it was truly needed. Again, it was a...different feeling, not uncomfortable, but Buffy didn’t take the time to question it.
If these were the creatures responsible for bringing her back it was doubtful they intended her any harm. Her body lost that battle-ready look and she walked to the bottom of the stairs, peering up at them with unveiled curiosity.
“Sister, do you see her?” The brother had studied the switch from Slayer mode to full Buffy and he was at a loss. This was unexpected to say the least.
His sister was equally surprised at what she was picking up, not only from the change, but from the girl’s thoughts as well. Her mind speech was hushed in wonder. “I see her, brother. She is evolved. The realm...it changed her. This is no longer just the Slayer in front of us. She truly is The Chosen One. The Keeper of the Balance.”
There was no arguing with what they had both seen. Buffy had changed. She was, in fact, balanced. For the first time in over a millennium, a Slayer had reached the pinnacle of her abilities. And much sooner than they had anticipated, for it had been foreseen that this girl, this Chosen One would reach that lofty goal. That was why it was necessary to bring her back. Her journey had not yet begun before she died, not truly, and now it had. Much sooner than expected.
“But what of the other trials?” The brother reached out his mind and questioned his sister. “This change was to be seen much later in her development.”
He felt the mental shrug his sister gave him. “The events will still occur, but they will no longer be trials. They will evolve as she has. And brother,” the mental brush took on an amused edge, “you said it yourself. She has always been unpredictable. The realm is unknown to us, beyond our purview. Not even the Powers could tell us what affect a return would have on an individual. Her unpredictability combined with the realm itself has produced an unexpected but promising result.”
The brother heard an almost avaricious lilt in his sister’s mental voice and felt a twinge of something akin to trepidation. He buried it deeply to prevent her from picking up on it.
Of the two of them, the brother had always been more sympathetic to an individual’s plight. He was more gregarious by nature, not as affected by duty and responsibility as the powerful entity next to him. And he sincerely hoped that what he picked up on was not an indication that his sister had gotten the idea to send all future Slayers into the realm this Slayer had just escaped from as a test. This Slayer was unique. It would not bode well for the future of the universe if his sister was under the mistaken impression that what one could do, they all could do.
When he turned his attention back to the girl at the bottom of the stairs he was a little embarrassed to find that she was no longer at the bottom of the stairs. In fact, she’d climbed said stairs and was standing right in front of him.
“Hi there,” Buffy said. “Remember me? Chosen One? Recently deceased? I was just wondering if you and your friend were going to stand there for much longer, doing...whatever it was you were doing that wasn’t sending me home. Not that I’m trying to be impatient girl, here.”
Buffy grinned at the slightly surprised expression on the male’s face. She really felt quite good, now that she knew where she was. “Okay, so maybe I am. What can I say? Got people to see and balance to keep. And I’m guessing you didn’t bring me here to admire the wicked impressive job the tattoo artist did on both of you, so if we could get on with this, I’d appreciate it.”
“Impertinent little thing, isn’t she?” The brother winced slightly at the sharp tone in his sister’s mental voice. He ignored her.
“Of course,” he said instead to Buffy, who was standing with her hands at her hips, looking at them a touch less than patiently. “We apologize. You have been brought here in preparation of the return to your dimension.”
“It was also necessary,” the sister added, “as we were unable to remove you ourselves from the realm you just left. Now that you are here, however, we can send you the rest of the way.”
“You will be returned to your body at a time shortly following your fall from the tower.” The brother smiled slightly as Buffy’s head swung back and forth between him and his sister as they spoke.
The sister finished with, “And the Powers will restore you.”
Buffy nodded, in seeming agreement with the plan. Anything that got her back to her sister and friends was to be placed squarely in the ‘let’s do it, then’ category.
“Well,” she said, “that explains the Jetson’s job you did on my clothes, right? Can’t go back looking all out of place...or time...or whatever.”
She noticed that the pair was staring at her like she’d suddenly started speaking Latin or something and realized they didn’t get the reference. “Jetson’s...you know...cartoon? Presto-chango on the wardrobe deal? They - ”
She broke off, they just weren’t getting it. “You know what? Never mind. So not important. I’m ready whenever you are.”
The sister raised one delicately arched brow and nodded at her. And then, just because it had irritated her, she said, “We are not tattooed, actually. This is our natural coloring. And we are not just ‘friends’. We are siblings, twins.”
Buffy grinned sheepishly and shrugged a little. “Sorry. No offense.”
She looked at the pair expectantly, and the sister closed her eyes and pressed her palms together to focus her energy. Just as she was about to send the girl to her own realm, the sister heard Buffy call out to her.
“Wait!”
The Oracle sighed and opened her eyes slowly to stare at the Slayer. The brother caught several of the mildly unflattering comments that slid through his sister’s mind and had to stop himself from grinning. Both the Slayer and the vampire had stretched the limits of his sister’s patience to no end, and he was enough of a brother to be more than just a bit amused at how quickly and easily they had done it.
“What is it, Slayer?” the sister asked, veiled frustration in her voice.
Buffy winced a little mentally. There weren’t a whole lot of fluffy happy feelings in that question. “Well, I was just wondering...I mean, I’m here and all...and you’re the ones that called me back...so you’re probably the one’s I should ask...”
The sister sighed, actually sighed visibly at her ramblings. “Are you quite certain we were not mistaken, brother? Because this child does not seem capable of finishing a sentence, much less saving the world from plunging into eternal darkness.”
The brother couldn’t help it, he laughed out loud in delight at his sister’s frustration. It was too delicious not to. She shot him an irritated glare as Buffy looked at him in surprise. “She is the one and you know it, sister. And I believe she may have a question.”
As soon as the male laughed, at nothing apparently, Buffy remembered what else Spike had told her about them. They communicated mentally. That’s a little ruder than two all-knowing entities should be, don’t you think?
The male grinned at her expression, which was currently mirroring his sister’s irritated one. “I will apologize for the laughter, Slayer. I am afraid I cannot apologize for communicating mentally. That is what we do. It is a part of what we are. You cannot blame us for that any more than you can blame a bird for flying or the wind for blowing. It is our nature.”
As soon as Buffy heard the male’s voice in her head her eyes had gone wide in amazement. And for some reason what he said made her think of Spike. She didn’t know why.
“You had a question I believe?” The serious voice of the sister brought everyone back to the matter at hand.
“Right,” Buffy muttered, momentarily losing her previous train of thought. It came back to her. “Yeah. Question. I was curious about one thing - ”
“Only one, how surprising.” This time the brother managed to stifle the laughter at his sister’s thoughts.
“I mean, Spike explained why you needed me to go back. Some big evil brewing on the horizon that only I can stop - got that part. Same old, same old there. But that whole ‘Keeper of the Balance’ thing? Not that it doesn’t sound nice - it does. I was just wondering what I’m keeping in balance exactly? Is it me? Is it the world?”
If it was possible for the sister to look any further down her nose at the Slayer than she had been, she did. “Yes.”
The brother saw the slightly affronted look on Buffy’s face and cursed his sister mentally - and silently. Her attitude could lead them into trouble if it continued. He tried to steer the conversation onto safer ground.
“Your balance is what will help you maintain the balance in the world. You are the Chosen One. That is why it is necessary for you to go back. Balance is everything, it must be maintained. The Forces of Light and the Forces of Dark have struggled for supremacy since the beginning of time. Each side wanting to claim victory, neither side willing to concede that in victory there is only defeat. They must stay in balance. Only when there are no victors is the battle won.”
Buffy listened and sighed. Oh yeah, really done with that whole mysterious ‘guide-speak’ thing - which is right up there with the ‘I may as well be speaking in tongues’ speak. What is that, anyway? Do all mystical types have some big grudge against the sense making? They have some ancient rulebook of confusion they have to abide by?
“That was very helpful,” she said out loud to the male, “in a not so much kind of way.”
He smiled sympathetically. “All will be revealed in good time.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. Yeah. Heard that one before. Usually right before I go up against something really horrible. I swear, why do I even bother? She sighed.
“Okay, Oracles. You win. I’ll play the wait and see game...again. I’m getting good at that, actually. Go ahead, send me on my merry way.”
Perhaps it was the time in heaven, perhaps it was the new balance she found, but Buffy wasn’t as irritated or upset by the not knowing as she would have been before. It was just acceptance, and there was peace in that.
She tried to soothe the female Oracle’s obviously ruffled feathers in the bargain. “Sorry. I tend to be an instant gratification type person when it comes to information on things that might kill me. I’ll work on that. Guess it’s a pretty good thing you sent Spike straight back, he’s way worse than me with the whole ‘patience is a virtue’ thing.”
It was an honest attempt at conciliatory behavior. Buffy had a warm smile on her face as she said it. It was a smile that faded quickly when she saw the surprised look that passed between the Oracles. A cold trickle of concern danced down Buffy’s spine and she felt her stomach drop into her stomach.
Something was wrong. She felt it.
“What?”
The Oracles turned back to her. “The vampire will not be returning to your dimension.”
It was the male that spoke into her mind, and there was confusion in both the mental voice and in his eyes. Now, instead of just dropping, Buffy’s stomach twisted painfully even as her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
For long seconds she stared at them before she said anything. When she did speak, there was no longer any humor in her voice. “I think it would be a good idea for one of you tell me what you mean by that.”
The sister looked briefly at her brother and quickly decided she would be the best one to handle this. “The vampire was sent to a realm that was...resistant to his presence. It was also resistant to allowing your return. The price of his success was his existence. As was the price of his failure.”
Buffy just stared. She couldn’t get her mind to wrap around what the female was telling her. “Wait. Resistant? The price was his existence? What are you talking about?”
The Oracles didn’t answer her, they stayed serious and silent. It was all the answer Buffy needed. She felt her Slayer senses swirling around her and the power once again emerged.
She went from concerned to seriously pissed off in less than a blink. In a cold tone she nailed the sister with icy words. “Do you mean to tell me that you sent Spike into heaven to get me out and now it’s going to kill him for it?”
Without losing a drop of haughty confidence, the sister blinked once and told her, “You have returned. The vampire was successful. The realm would have reacted swiftly, I imagine. Most likely he has already been terminated. I fail to see the relevance of discussing it further.”
Fury flashed hot and bright in the Slayer and she stepped menacingly toward the creature that had so calmly divulged such a hideous thing. “The ‘vampire’ is important to me. That’s the relevance. He’s a friend.”
As soon as she said the words she felt the rightness in saying them. Whatever else Spike was, whatever else he may become when he was returned - and he would be - what he was first and foremost was a friend. And no one threatened harm to Buffy’s friends without feeling the wrath of the Slayer.
“Don’t you dare tell me he’s dead. You don’t know the first thing about him. He’s not as easy to kill as you might think, believe me, I know. So let me tell you, you’d better start figuring out a way to get him out of there or I’m going to get very unpleasant, very quickly.”
The brother watched as the two powerful females squared off. He could feel the tension in the air. “Slayer, the choice was the vampire’s to make. He made it willingly.”
Buffy practically snorted in disdain of the pair. “Of course he’d make it willingly if you didn’t tell him his life was on the line. He wanted me back. He’d have done anything to get me back...”
Her words trailed off as the realization dawned. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared scornfully at both of them. “That’s the real reason you sent him, wasn’t it? You knew he’d do it, no questions asked, and you couldn’t risk my friends or my sister refusing to take me away from the peace of that place. You played on his feelings for me. That he was a vampire was just a bonus - you knew all along all he would need to do was show a little attitude and fang and it would force that lovely Slayer side of me to return to my responsibilities.”
Somber but unrepentant, the Oracles mentally questioned one another on the best way to handle this extremely volatile situation. In the end they were bound by their duties as guides to be honest with the girl.
“You are correct,” admitted the brother.
“And you are mistaken,” added the sister.
Buffy rolled her eyes, frustrated and angry at the obvious contradiction. She was really itching to wipe those placid expressions right off both of their faces.
Speaking calmly and unhurriedly, the brother continued. “The vampire was called because we had made note of his...interest in you.”
The sister picked up the cadence in the same even tone. “We watched as he fought beside you against the Hell God and we had observed him fighting for you on other occasions.”
Together they said, “We were also aware that his nature would be best suited to bringing forth the warrior in you once again.”
“But,” the brother said, nodding his head slightly in emphasis, “he was made well aware of the ramifications of his actions.”
“Yes, Slayer,” said the sister, “we were honest with him. He knew the price that he would be paying.”
Buffy shook her head vehemently. “No. No way. There is no way he would willingly - “
But there was. And Spike’s own words came back to haunt her.
She’d been in the caves on the edge of Sunnydale, comforting Dawn at the time. Trying to calm her sister’s fears that Willow would do anything rash by trying to take on Glory alone after Glory had stolen Tara’s mind. Spike had been listening and disagreed. Even after Buffy tried to explain that taking on Glory would be suicide, Spike had said, “I’d do it. Right person. Person I loved. I’d do it.”
He had. He loved her and had taken on heaven itself for that love. “Oh God.”
Buffy turned and sunk down on the top step of the stairs and rested her elbows on her knees, face covered by her hands. She felt sick. He never told her, never even gave any indication that he wasn’t going back. Or had he? The kiss. That amazingly passionate kiss. That had taken guts, given their history together. And now she knew where those guts had come from. It was a kiss goodbye.
Damn you, Spike, what the hell were you thinking?
“Actually,” the brother said, listening in on the Slayer’s thoughts, “it was not for you, his sacrifice. Not specifically anyway.”
Buffy spun around, her face drawn and tight. The newfound balance was still in place, but it was being sorely tested. She practically snarled at him. “What?”
“My brother is correct. The vampire was against the proposal at first.”
“Yes,” the brother continued as Buffy’s head swung back to him, “he was quite vehement in the belief that you had suffered enough in your life. You deserved the tranquility of the realm you were in.”
“That was quite a surprise to us, actually.” The sister remembered the fear that they had both felt when Spike first refused to go. She shuddered mentally at the reminder. “It is contradictory to the nature of a vampire to hold another’s concerns in higher regard than his own.”
The brother got the vague look in his eyes that one gets when remembering past events. “He was quite intriguing, really. He was not as we had anticipated at all. Not a warrior for our side, yet he had pledged fealty to one who was and was really quite extraordinary in his responses. He had no soul, but his actions indicated some sense of a moral compass. He was more than he should have been able to be. It was fascinating.”
The Oracles words hit Buffy hard. There was so much truth in them, a truth that she had denied for so long - and had only recently accepted. It infuriated her that these beings could see in such little time what had taken her so long to clue in to. And it was a fury that she directed at herself.
But she took it out on them.
Hot rage had her leaping to her feet and grabbing the male’s shoulder in a crushing grip before he had even noticed she’d moved. She snarled, “You speak about him in the past tense one more time and I’ll make sure that’s all your sister has left when speaking about you. He is NOT dead!”
The brother felt his sister gather her energy in retaliation. He knew she was two seconds from smacking the Slayer with a painful mind slap, much as she’d knocked the vampire when he’d been prepared to attack the Borymous. “No, sister. It is not necessary. Leave her alone. It is the anger speaking, she will be alright in a minute.”
He didn’t move, he stood there and calmly waited for some of the fiery fury to drain out of the Slayers eyes. As it did, she relaxed her hold and finally released him.
“If she attacks you again, brother, I’m sending her into the nearest pillar.”
The protective behavior was a comfort. He caressed her gently with his mind in thanks. He didn’t bother to tell her he was quite capable of defending himself, she knew it.
Through teeth clenched in tight control, Buffy asked them, “You said he refused first. That he didn’t go back for me. What did you mean?”
The sister stepped forward, moving in front of her brother in an obviously protective maneuver, and glared at Buffy. “It was imperative that you go back. When he refused, we were left with no other option but to show him what would happen to the world if you didn’t. He took one look at the hell the earth was to become and said he’d go.”
“He did it for the good of many, not just you. Not just The K - ” The brother was going to say ‘The Key’...right up until the Slayers deadly glare sliced into him. He decided to take a vampire’s advice. “Not just Dawn. Not just your friends. He did it because he knew it needed to be done.”
His words confused her. Since when did Spike ever put the fate of the world in front of his own agendas?
Sure, she could imagine him sacrificing himself for her and even Dawn, but somehow she couldn’t even see him doing much for the rest of the gang - and he knew them - let alone an anonymous mass population that he once referred to as ‘happy meals with legs’. Even if he couldn’t bite them anymore, he was still a vampire. A soulless vampire. He may not be a monster, but that hadn’t changed.
But what if he was still a vampire with the ability to rise above his inherent nature. Is it possible? And if so - why Spike? Why not...
No. Don’t go there, Buffy. That way is doomed to badness. You can’t keep measuring all things male against Angel. It’s not fair. It wasn’t fair to Riley and you’re not going to do it to Spike. And Angel and Riley both left. Spike didn’t. No matter how much pain you dished out, he didn’t leave. He was always there when you needed his help. That’s gotta count for something, right?
Suddenly it became even more important for Buffy to get Spike back. She wanted - no, needed - to know if what the Oracles said is true. That somewhere in the middle of all of the stuff that had been going on before she died, Spike had acquired something like a conscience, if not a soul.
She frowned at the suspicious ache in her chest. It hurt, knowing Spike was in danger. It hurt a lot. He’s not dead...he can’t be dead.
The sister saw the frown. She misinterpreted it. She hadn’t been reading the Slayer’s thoughts.
“It seems,” she said conversationally to her brother, “that the Slayer may not have known the vampire as well as she thought she did.” It was a senseless gibe, and it was ill advised.
The brother saw it coming but couldn’t stop it.
Buffy had been staring at the ground, trying to think the Spike situation through when she heard the Oracle’s words. Slowly and with an eerily calm purpose, she raised her head to meet the large, inhuman blue eyes of the female. There was nothing but contempt and anger in the Slayer’s icy glare.
She leapt forward - Slayer senses and strength throbbing gloriously through her - and grabbed the sister by the throat. Not to injure her, mind, just to hold her. Buffy smiled a ferocious smile at the uppity entity. It was not intended to be friendly.
“There had to have been another way. The Powers...they’re all powery. The only way you gave Spike to get me back was this? I don’t think so. There had to have been another way.”
The sister didn’t take the time to answer, she was none too pleased with being manhandled in such a debasing manner and she certainly wasn’t going to sit and discuss that creature with this child any longer. She didn’t care if the child was the Chosen One. She reached out her mind and slapped the Slayer upside the head with a swift mental smack.
But nothing happened.
The only indication the Slayer gave that she felt it was little more than a slight bob in her head.
Buffy’s eyes narrowed as she felt the mental nudge. She saw the female’s eyes widen in surprise and guessed she’d just been targeted for a mental attack that went awry. The grin that spread slowly across her face was not pleasant.
The brother was frantic to break it up. He saw what happened with the mind slap. That blow was more powerful than the one his sister had hit the vampire with. It had been capable of severely damaging a normal human. It would even have knocked the Slayer for a loop, if she’d still been just the Slayer. She wasn’t.
He started talking - quickly - about what Spike’s first choice had been and why the vampire refused.
Each word he said made Buffy feel worse, ripped into her a little more, tore her up, and made her feel Spike’s loss that much more keenly. Because each word reminded Buffy of just how much of a man Spike was. And how much she liked - more than liked - that man. Her heart broke for him even as her resolve strengthened.
Finally, when the Oracle had finished his hasty retelling of the whole story, Buffy turned her attention back to the sister. She tilted her head a bit and tossed the entity away from her as if she weighed next to nothing.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she tossed her head a little to push her hair back off her shoulders, then raised her chin to stare the two beings down.
“So what you’re telling me is that I was supposed to allow my sister to sacrifice herself after the dimensional walls fell. I was supposed to just let her die. This was another - what did you call it? - trial. And when Spike got a chance to right this grievous error in judgment I made, he refused. You know what? I’m really starting to wonder just who the soulless demons are. ‘Cuz I’m thinking not Spike. Funny, isn’t it? Even a vampire has more compassion than the two of you.”
Buffy was through with it. She was through playing games and she was through playing by the Powers’ rules. This was her time now. They needed her. And if the whole Glory thing had taught Buffy one thing, it was that there was power to be had in being needed. Her words cut into both of them.
“You and your ‘Powers’ have done a real good job of stripping everything that matters away from me. And for what? So I would be more Slayerly? More easily controlled by my sense of duty without the drawbacks of silly little distractions like love, family, and friendship? And now you have the audacity to tell me that not only would the way it was ‘supposed’ to have been taken one more thing - but the way it is now is taking a different thing altogether. A friend in lieu of a sister. You know what? I don’t think so. You’ve taken enough - way more than enough.”
Full of righteous indignation and rolling, thunderous anger she stalked slowly closer to where the two stood watching her warily.
“I’m not letting you strip away one more thing. You don’t get Spike. So start thinking of a way to get him here, ‘cuz you know what? If you don’t? I’m done. You can send me back; I probably can’t stop you from that. But I’m done with it. You’ll have to find a different warrior - oh wait...there aren’t any. That’s why you needed me. Pity.”
She leaned forward with an intensely aggressive glint in her eyes and hissed. “I guess you’ll just have to spend the rest of eternity watching whatever Spike saw that was so disturbing, it made a vampire willing to take on heaven itself to make sure it never happened.”
Completely numbed by this new development, the sister could only stammer “Y-you w-wouldn’t. You are the C-Chosen One. You would n-never let the innocents in your dimension s-suffer.”
“You couldn’t,” the brother said quietly, equally shaken internally but more composed than his sister, “because that would invalidate the vampire’s sacrifice for you. He would have died in vain.”
“The ‘vampire’ has a name. Spike. And as for couldn’t and wouldn’t...if I’m not mistaken, people, an eternity lies in the balance. You wanna bet on it?”