When Eternity Lies In The BalanceBy Jericho TGF
Chapter Fifteen
Dawn and Willow finally made it to shaky but upright positions. They clung to each other for support and balance as the tremors continued to shift the ground under their feet. Ground in the nether realm that shouldn’t be able to shift.
“Willow! What’s going on? What is this?”
The very confused witch, still rocked by her ordeal with Spike’s aura, just shook her head, not having any answers to give the teen.
“I’m thinking not something that’s a good, though, right?”
Willow met Dawn’s eyes for a second, though thanks to the shaking, the picture was kind of fuzzy. “Big not good. Huge not good. We’ve got to get out of here. Now. Sooner than now would be even better.”
“Can you get us out? Giles said you’d have to get us out.”
Nodding, teeth rattling, Willow pulled herself together enough to remember what she needed to do. With the knowledge came self-assurance, and she grinned a bit.
“That I can do. Hold on. We’re going to have to follow the path you took here. I have to use you, or I won’t be able to get out, so whatever you do, don’t let go of me. It’s either that, or merge with Spike again. And, ya know? Not something I’m anxious to be trying again any time soon. In fact, never.”
Dawn knew how traumatic it had been for Willow, merging with Spike, and she reached out and hugged the surprised witch tightly. Just knowing that Willow had been willing to risk trying something so dangerous to help her reinforced the belief that Willow was one of her favorite people. And since now wasn’t really the time to go into that in depth, a hug would have to suffice. As soon as they were firmly back on un-shaky ground, she’d tell Willow just what her sacrifice meant to her.
Willow hugged Dawn back just as tightly, taking comfort in the girl that had come into the nether realm after her. She chanted even as they maintained their tight grip on each other. The air swirled around the pair as they were pulled back down the path that Dawn had made.
It was working. This was something Willow was quite familiar with. Getting out of the nether realm had always been her favorite part of all of those spells she and Tara had done - what seemed like a lifetime ago, now.
With a harsh jolt and a twisting sensation it was over. Willow opened her eyes, her real eyes, and sucked in a quick breath at what she saw. Beside her, Dawn echoed the sound.
In front of them, stretching from the floor to the ceiling was a wall of crackling energy.
Surprised and horrified just didn’t cover it and their hands broke apart unconsciously. As they did, the wall collapsed into the more familiar for Dawn, just as shocking for Willow, mini tornado that had laid waste to the room around them.
Willow grimaced, frantically meeting Dawn’s gaze. The young girl didn’t look terribly surprised. Someone had some explaining to do - but now was hardly the time.
It was unsettling, coming back from the nether realm. And this time was even more so for Willow, as everything that she was, mind, aura, essence, had been savagely separated and pulled in. It took her a long, stunned minute to realize that it was her magicks that were powering the wind. It took even longer to reconnect with that part of her, to regain control. When she finally did - not knowing what exactly had happened - the spinning vortex around them dwindled down to nothing. With little less than a caress of warm breeze, it disappeared.
And that’s when they noticed the ground underneath them was shaking and the house was swaying around them.
“What now?” cried Dawn, confused and worried that the safety they had been counting on hadn’t materialized as easily as they had materialized from the nether realm.
“I don’t know. Move, Dawnie, move - into a doorway - go!” The girls scrambled to their feet and hurtled down the hall.
As they huddled in the doorway leading into the kitchen, the ground continued to roll and pitch.
“This can’t be good,” said Willow, when it didn’t seem to be ending. “Shaking ground generally not one of those boding well things in Sunnydale. And if this is also what we were feeling in the nether realm, then we’re talking outside my experience - way out. Out of the galaxy, out.”
Dawn clung to the wall for support. She was scared. She wanted Giles. She wanted to know what was going on. “I don’t get it! Where is everyone?” A low rumbling sound was vibrating in her chest. She didn’t like it.
Things were falling off walls, down stairs, out of the cabinets in the kitchen. There was chaos all around them. It was a cacophonous din of destruction. Then, out of nowhere, came a loud thud from the dining room that drowned out the rest for a brief second, followed by the sound of wood being splintered and broken.
The earth stopped moving at last.
Willow and Dawn exchanged wide-eyed but relieved looks as they straightened and stood on finally firm ground.
“Wow. Okay,” said Willow, “that’s more like it. I like the ground much better when it’s not doing the hokey pokey underneath me. Now, let’s find Giles and the gang. We need to find out what’s with the shaking all about.”
At Dawn’s questioning look, Willow reached up and brushed a lock of hair off her shoulder.
“Yes, Dawnie, we’re also going to find out what needs to be done to get Spike out of hell. I told you, we’ll find him. I promise.”
Dawn was a little embarrassed that her first thoughts after the hubbub died down were all about getting Spike back, but that was her goal, her mission. She shouldn’t feel embarrassed that she was following her heart. “Okay. Right. Good. And I know you can do it, Willow. I believe in you. And thank you. For everything.”
Willow hugged her quickly again and grabbed her hand as they moved out of the doorway.
As they made their way down the hall, stepping gingerly around several pieces of miscellaneous debris, they didn’t take the time to go see what had happened in the dining room. They hadn’t forgotten about the loud thud and the sound of wood splintering apart, but finding the rest of their friends was currently tops on the to do list. Assessing damage could come later.
If they had checked it out, they would have seen him.
They would have seen the vampire that they were both so determined to find. A vampire that lay, unconscious, amid the rubble of what was left of the dining room table.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Buffy had come out of her grief induced stupor when the rocking in the Oracles’ chamber knocked her off her knees and sent her sprawling. With an instinctive roll, she rose to her feet, arms outstretched for balance. Her Slayer sense was cloaked tightly around her, and she could now feel every vibration coming from the stone steps she perched so precariously on.
“What the hell is going on?”
She looked around and found the two Oracles, clinging together in the archway, obviously terrified beyond rational thought.
Making her way over to them, she grabbed the brother’s arm and shook it.
“What is this? What’s happening?”
He looked at her but didn’t speak. Buffy realized, belatedly, that he was trying to reach her mentally, probably out of instinct. Concentrating, she tried to open her mind to his thoughts. She got more than just his thoughts, though; she felt his confusion and fear as he just stared at her. Then she finally heard the words.
“The Powers...they are calling us...something has happened but we cannot go to them. The portal is closed to us. We do not know why. They are calling us and we cannot go.”
Buffy spun around. There was nothing in the barren room that could help her. Her mind whirled. Loss, anger, love, all of the emotions she was feeling were intensifying her Slayer side, the tingling in her body rose to an almost painful level.
And then it stopped. The room stopped shaking, the pillars settled back in their rightful positions, and the pool of water in front of her...kept frothing and bubbling.
In fact, it did more than froth and bubble, the water churned and agitated. Like a mini ocean suffering the wrath of a hurricane.
“Would someone please explain to me what, exactly, is happening here?”
Buffy may as well not have asked, for all the response she got. The Oracles weren’t likely to provide much in the way of explanations, either; they were still huddled pathetically in the closed portal to their precious Powers. Buffy stepped forward cautiously and peered down into the Waters of Time and Space.
Images flashed in the waves, disjointed and surreal images. Nothing recognizable, nothing decipherable. It was as if a movie was playing on a moving, broken screen. But it was more than just one movie, more than dozens of movies, playing all at once and reflecting off hundreds of individual watery peaks.
She couldn’t look away. It made no sense to her, to her mind, none of the images were identifiable, but it was mesmerizing.
Slowly, as Buffy watched, the water calmed. The images kept flashing, but it was less a multitude of movies, broken and cut up by the waves, and more pages of a book, flipping past at an incredible rate. Until it opened to one lone page and held its position.
As clear as glass, as flat and unmoving as a stagnant pond, the image was distinct and recognizable.
Buffy felt tears spring to her eyes as she realized what she was seeing. Her heart soared. Everything that was in her cried out in deep relief. The velvet cloak of her power caressed her mind, body, and soul, hugging her with comforting warmth.
“Spike!”
She saw him. He was...well, hurt...and unconscious...but he was alive! And he was in her dining room. Or...what was left of her dining room?
Spinning around to the Oracles, she lifted her head and stared down her nose at the pair. “See. I told you. Not as easy to kill as you might think. And if I’m not mistaken, those Powers of yours need to upgrade their...what did you call it? Their technology.” Her eyes took on a dangerous glint and her voice sharpened to deadly intensity. She was glorious in her power. “Now. I don’t want to hear another word from the two of you. In my head or anywhere else. Send me back. You brought me here to send me back, DO IT!”
The brother and sister were shell-shocked, this was beyond highly irregular. As the first to regain some semblance of control but not believing what the Slayer had told him, the brother shuffled forward as if expecting the ground to start moving again and peered into the now eerily calm Waters.
“It is true, sister. The vampire has been returned to her realm. I do not know how, or from where, but he is there. What do we do?”
Near hysteria, the sister practically screeched in his mind. “DO?! Send her back! Why are you even questioning? Send her back. I am finished with her and her odd friends. I want nothing more to do with any of them! This has been quite a distressing situation. I want her gone. Please, brother. For me. Send her back.”
“But, sister, I cannot. She was supposed to return to her body shortly after the fall. After the vampire was summoned. With his return, that is no longer possible. The Pow-”
“GRANT THE CHOSEN ONES’ WISHES. SEND HER BACK IN THEIR PRESENT TIME. WE WILL RESTORE HER. COME TO US. WE ARE WAITING.”
Both Oracles’ heads snapped up in surprise. There was no ignoring the Powers or their demands. Something very unusual must be happening to be contacted in such a manner. Usually they just send a wordless, beckoning call. This was highly irregular. And it scared the brother. Reality as he knew it was changing, he could feel it, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. He didn’t even understand it.
Without another word, he turned to the scornful creature in front of him and nodded once. He gathered his powers and sent her back to her world. Set her back on her path...whatever that may be now.
Buffy disappeared from the room.
The brother doubted even the Powers themselves had any idea of just what he was releasing on the world. For the first time in his existence, he questioned the wisdom of their decision.
And he didn’t know why he was so sure that the Slayer, while still being a warrior, would no longer be theirs to guide.
~*~*~*~*~*~
It was Tara that noticed it first. She sat up, rubbing at a sore spot on her head, not really remembering what she’d hit it on, and saw that the energy that had been keeping them out of the house was no longer glowing tauntingly in the doorway.
She didn’t have time to mention it before Giles stood up, brushing at his jacket, and caught the non-glowing front entrance out of the corner of his eye. Fearing the worst, fearing the quake that rattled them had been the last straw and his surrogate daughter was hurt, maybe dead, his heart lodged in his throat and clung there, preventing words from having any possibility of escape.
The normally dignified man launched himself up the stairs leading to the porch and burst into the hallway. He almost buckled under the weight of grief when he saw the living room empty, but a sound from the hallway on his right spun him around.
Out of the shadowy darkness, two figures, two young women, shaken but remarkably unhurt, emerged. And sometime after seeing that Willow and Dawn were both alive and back in this realm, Giles’ heart slipped back down where it belonged, and for good measure, started beating again.
Dawn choked back a sob when she saw Giles’ face, then threw herself at him. His arms wrapped tightly around her and they rocked back and forth for a little while, drawing comfort from one another.
It was a tremendous feeling for Giles, having Dawn safe in his arms, and he leaned his head down and rested it on the top of hers. The effusive display of loving emotions may have been out of character for the mature young woman she’d become, but in no way out of character for a fourteen year old girl. And he would take it. She was alive, unhurt, and he would take every opportunity offered to let her know how much that meant to him.
The grounding she would get for attempting such a foolhardy course of action could come much later.
He looked at Willow, who was standing a step away, looking just as shaken as Dawn had. There was warmth in his expression when he raised one of his arms away from Dawn and held it out to her. Beaming a watery smile at him, Willow stepped into his soothing embrace. She felt his fatherly affection for all of them in that hug, and was calmed and comforted by it.
“Giles,” came Xander’s voice from the porch, “are they okay? Is it over?”
Giles, Willow, and Dawn looked down the hallway and saw Xander just entering the open door, Tara and Anya behind him. Xander saw the girls and smiled widely.
“Yup. It’s over. And it’s the best kind of over. Happy ending over. Gotta love those.”
Tara rushed to the three who were still clinging together in a group hug, and Willow broke away from Giles and Dawn to wrap her arms around the woman she loved. They said with their embrace what they couldn’t say with their words. Love, devotion, and dedication were all offered, accepted, returned, and renewed.
Anya grabbed Xander’s arm and watched the emotional group in front of her. “Oh, good, they’re back. I have to say, Willow, that’s a very impressive arsenal of power you have access to. I’m very pleased that you’re on our side. It would be unpleasant to cross you.”
Willow looked at the ex-demon over Tara’s shoulder, knowing that was as close as Anya would ever come to a warm welcome. “Um. Thanks, Anya. I...appreciate the...sentiment.”
Anya grinned and nodded enthusiastically. “So,” she said, turning to Xander, “does this mean we can go home now or are you going to insist we have to help with the cleanup?”
“An,” Xander cast a sheepish glance at the unsurprised, but faintly irritated people that were his friends, “I don’t think clean up is really what needs to happen now. Am I right Giles?”
Giles didn’t let go of Dawn, couldn’t let go of her yet, so he shifted her to his side where she nestled comfortably against him. He faced the group, confidence and calm demeanor firmly back in place.
“Yes, well...there is the matter of discussing what happened in the nether realm. And I’m not happy about the fact that we just felt a rather strong earthquake. I believe our experiences indicate those as something of a harbinger of doom. But, that can probably all wait until tomorrow as I’m sure Willow and Dawn are tired from their ordeal. Quite frankly, I don’t believe a little assessing of the damage and some cleaning up would be out of line, really. Then we can get some sleep and start fresh in the morning.”
Willow let go of Tara and said, “Clean-up will have to wait. Giles, there’s something you should know. The earthquake wasn’t just in Sunnydale. Dawn and I felt it in the nether realm, and as far as I know - that’s just not a possibility. Do you have any ideas?”
“Oh dear.”
Xander heard the breathless exclamation, saw the frown Giles gave and sighed audibly. “Lemme guess. Happy ending a bit premature?”
Giles just looked at him wryly and nodded. “I would say so, yes. Perhaps we should all adjourn to the family room. No rest for the wicked, I’m afraid. This is proving to be one very long night.”
Six weary and mentally drained individuals moved en masse into the less destroyed family room, resignation and responsibility weighing each of them down.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Spike was slowly regaining consciousness as his body shifted slightly. Whatever he was lying on was extremely uncomfortable - and in no way meant for naptime. Plus there was a soft drone in his head, muted conversation that wouldn’t let him slip back into the depths of healing sleep.
One of the voices, he wasn’t really aware which one, nagged at his mind, pulling at it ceaselessly, prodding it into embracing awakeness when all he really wanted to do was lie in the dark and heal.
But it wouldn’t let him.
As his mind got dragged, resisting all the way, back into some semblance of awareness, the cottony cobwebs over his thoughts cleared a bit and he was able to pinpoint who the voice belonged to. When he did, he knew why it had so mercilessly forced him awake. That knowledge thrust him into a fully alert state. Dawn.
He opened his eyes quickly and stared at the ceiling above him. Turning his head caused shooting pain to dance down his spine, into his arms and legs, and he gasped at the sudden sharpness of it. He peered around the room with only a vague recognition of his surroundings. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on where he was. He knew he was in Buffy’s house, but he just didn’t recognize which part.
Rolling was agony, but Spike turned his body gently and used his arms to push himself to his hands and knees. What he saw underneath where he’d been laying made the last connection in his mind. The dining room table...or...what was left of it. He was in the dining room.
And they said I was funny. Right. They’re a laugh a minute, they are. ‘Cuz sendin’ Spike through a portal separatin’ realities, only to come crashin’ down on a table made out of the one thing guaranteed to shorten the unlife span of any vampire has got to be a bleedin’ joke.
But the pain wasn’t funny. And they hadn’t lied about it. His body was screaming vile obscenities at him for even contemplating moving.
It didn’t matter. He was back. Dawn was here. He had to get to Dawn.
Buffy.
Oh God. Both of them.
All thoughts of the bruises, broken bones, lacerations, and everything else that was causing his body extreme torment fled out of his mind. He had to get to Dawn. He had to tell her about Buffy.
Staggering to his feet, he swayed slightly as his head spun. Shuffling out of the dining room, he followed the sound of one voice. Like a beacon through an endless night, it called him.
He paused for a brief second when he saw the living room, saw the absolute destruction, and he wondered fleetingly what could have done such a thing.
He’d find out later. Everything but one could wait for later. The voice grew louder as he stumbled through the debris and headed toward the hallway. Dawn’s voice, serious and intent, pulled him forward. Lured him ever closer to his destination. Just her voice sounded better to him than anything he’d ever heard before.
And then, after what seemed like a thousand years of torturous hell, a journey of unimaginable horrors, victories, revelations, and redemptions - if you could believe the All - he stood, trembling, in the doorway and finally got to see his Nibblet. His Little Bit. His Dawn.
No one noticed his presence, they were all engrossed in Dawn’s retelling of the battle between Spike and Willow’s aura. To look at her, you’d never know she’d just been through a life-threatening ordeal. She was so excited in her retelling. There was just no repressing that bubbling personality.
“Nibblet.”
The familiar but long-since-heard voice and endearment effectively cut Dawn’s story off mid-sentence and her head whipped around to stare in stunned amazement at the broken and bleeding body of a long lost friend.
She didn’t even notice that five other pairs of eyes were just as wide and just as stunned as hers were. The minute Dawn saw Spike it was as if no one else in the room even existed.
He was holding on to the door jam for support, afraid he’d topple over if he let go, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the girl he’d grown to love so much. His bruised face shifted painfully into a tender smile as he watched those huge, beautiful eyes fill with tears from across the room.
She was rooted to her spot, shock holding her in place, holding everyone as still as ice sculptures. Spike tried to do something about the growing tension and amazement that was rising to palpable levels in the room.
“Hi, honey. I’m home.”
It worked.
Dawn finally got her throat to work again and she said his name in a choked sob that sounded like wonderfully joyous bells in his ears. “Spike! Oh my God, Spike!”
As long as Dawn lived, she would never remember actually jumping up from her chair and running over to his damaged body. One minute she was sitting in stunned silence, the next she was feeling him wince in pain as she wrapped surprisingly strong arms around his waist.
When she realized she was hurting him she tried to pull back, tears of joy streaming down her face. He wouldn’t let her. He didn’t care about the pain; he just wanted to feel her in his arms again like he had the morning after Buffy died. For her, it was a month, for him, just several days, for both, it was a lifetime.
He drank in her scent, never as happy as he was at that minute to be a vampire - not because of the badness inherent in it - but because of the gifts he could enjoy. The life he could feel with every one of his hypersensitive senses. Her heartbeat, felt pounding through their separate layers of clothing, heard throbbing, strong and even - if a little fast - in his ears. The scent that was uniquely Dawn, but just a touch of Buffy, too. The feel of her warm skin under his fingers as he traced one shaking hand down her wet cheek. The taste of her on his lips after he’d pressed a hard, quick kiss to her forehead.
But the best of all was seeing her - looking into those blue pools of mystery and knowing, without ever needing to ask, that she loved him, too.
There was a total acceptance and joy at his return. Not once did she ever even question who he was - what he was. She knew he was a vampire, knew what he had done in the past and what he was capable of doing even now, but she also knew that he wouldn’t. Never again. And it had nothing to do with a government chip. She saw in him what he hoped that one day Buffy would see. She saw the man before the fang. And she always had.
Suddenly she turned away from him. Not letting go - just shifting her body around to stare at the still silent and floored group in the room. The Slayer’s little sister gathered all of the strength that had been growing in her for the last month and commanded action from the people that she loved.
“Anya, go into the freezer and get two packets of blood - they’re under the frozen peas. Heat them in the microwave and bring them here. Tara, check the bathroom closet upstairs in Giles’ room, there are more first aide supplies in there, and it has a door, so the earthquake probably didn’t shake things up too bad. They were on the third shelf, but I can’t guarantee that’s where they still are. Xander, go down to the basement. There’s clean laundry in the drier and I know I washed a set of Giles’ sweatpants. Grab a pair, and a tee shirt too, black, just in case he bleeds on it. Giles, Willow, help me get him to the couch. He needs to lie down.”
It was Spike’s turn to be stunned and he gaped at the girl still holding him tightly. This was a new and improved Dawn, strong and self-assured. Spike liked it. He grinned at her remarkable show of spine.
What really surprised him was that the gang actually leapt into action, jumping up to follow her calmly spoken commands as if they were a common occurrence. No doubt about it, a lot had changed in the twenty-six days he’d been gone. He finally understood what the All had meant when they told him they’d been developing Dawn and Willow and the rest of the Scooby’s.
But apparently, not all the developing was a good thing. When Xander passed out of the room and stared at him with a coldly dead expression, Spike frowned. It didn’t make sense. He and Harris were just starting to, well, not get along exactly...but tolerate each other a little better during the events leading up to the fight with Glory. The look that he just got told him something had changed. There was no tolerance in his expression any longer.
Whelp doesn’t look like he’d spit on you if you were on fire, mate, let alone light your cigarette if your hands were sliced and diced.
Spike didn’t have the time to question it. Like everything else, it could wait until later. With Giles and Willow gently moving him towards the couch, Dawn rushing around setting up pillows and grabbing a throw off the back of a chair, he didn’t even have a chance to tell them about Buffy. He was in too much pain right then to say much of anything, actually.
“You’re back,” Dawn rambled as she bustled around the room. “You’re really back. We’ve been looking for you, Spike, I swear it. Willow found out where you were.”
Once he had been gently lowered to the couch and Dawn had covered him up, Spike reached out and grabbed Willow’s wrist before she could turn away. He had something to say to her, and it couldn’t wait - not even for Buffy.
“I know what you did, Will. I was told what you did for me, for Dawn. To try to find me. No one’s ever done anythin’ like that for me before. I won’t forget it. Thank you.”
Willow knelt down next to the vampire and smiled gently at him despite the confusion at his words. She had no idea how he knew, or who told him, but she could wait. “We can talk about that later, right now we need you to tell us what happened. How did you get out of hell?”
“Hell?” Surprised, Spike looked at each of the three curious people in turn. “Where’d you get the idea I was in hell?”
“Willow saw it, Spike, when she was merged with your aura. She saw the realm you went into - why’d you go? Why’d you do it?”
“Nibblet, I didn’t. I don’t think I underst-”
Finally he realized what it was Willow had seen and it all made sense. He looked at the Watcher and witch, but pulled Dawn down onto the couch next to him, holding her gently. “Rupert, Will, I think you’d better both sit down. I’ve got somethin’ to tell you and it’s going to be a bit of a shock.”
Spike spoke in a serious tone. It was a tone that no one was used to hearing from him, not even Dawn. There was no sarcasm, no amused derision, no teasing drawl. He spoke as if the weight of the world was planted firmly on his chest, and after what each one of them had been through that night; they felt chilled by the words and the expressive feelings behind them.
“I didn’t go to hell, pet,” Spike said to Dawn, reaching out to grab a lock of her long hair between his fingers, maybe for comfort. He knew what he would tell them would be more than shocking. It would take a while to get used to - even though it was the best news any of them could possibly imagine. Later, only later would he tell the gang the rest of it. Of his meeting with All and the message they sent with him. “Will, if you saw what I saw as I went into that realm, then you were seeing what heaven looks like for a vampire. I was sent to heaven.”
Giles yanked the glasses off his face and leaned forward. “What? What did you...heaven? You were sent to heaven? Spike, what are you talking about?”
Spike met and held the Watcher’s stunned gaze and nodded slowly. “When I was taken that mornin’, after...well, you know. That creature that nabbed me took me to a pair of Oracles. Have you heard of ‘em?”
Giles nodded his head, a strange feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach. “According to several writings, they are a link to the Powers. The Powers that Be.”
“Right. They sent me to heaven.”
Willow didn’t understand. She couldn’t reconcile what she saw to what she’d heard of the place. “If that was heaven, I’m suddenly very glad to be Jewish.”
Spike smiled. “I doubt it would look that way for you, Will. The look you got was through vampire colored glasses.”
Giles, mind reeling, spoke slowly, trying to get the conversation back on track. “Spike, why did they send you to heaven?”
“You know why, Rupert. I can tell you know why.” Spike looked at the three people around him and tried to tell them as gently as he was capable of doing. “They sent me to get Buffy. To get her to come back. And I did.”
“Bullshit!”
The harsh expletive from the doorway made all four of the room’s occupants jump. Four heads turned to see the young man, shaking with anger, clutching a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt.
Giles, Willow, and Dawn were too thunderstruck by what Spike just said to do anything to stop Xander’s furious tirade.
“That’s bullshit, Spike. What the hell are you trying to pull? You come back after a month and you expect us to believe that crap? Why would they do that? Why would they care that she’s gone? And even if they did, you expect us to believe some higher power chose you? A vampire? And sent you to heaven for Buffy. I don’t fucking think so. There’s also a big ass flaw in your story, Dead Man Walking, where is she? ‘Cuz here you are, all warm and comfortable, but I’m not seeing any Buffy-sized people anywhere.”
Anya and Tara heard the commotion and walked into the testosterone minefield. Each was carrying the items they were sent to retrieve.
“Wh-what’s going on?” asked Tara, confused at the hostility she was feeling.
Xander spun on her. “You wanna know what’s going on? The bloodsucker just told us that he’s been spending the past month in heaven, sent there by some higher power to get Buffy back. Can you believe that? Guess he felt that after a month of being gone, he’d hurt us as much as possible to make up for lost time.”
Spike rose to his feet slowly and purposefully, anger stirring dangerously. His aching body was buoyed by the rolling fury inside him. He wasn’t about to tell the whelp that he wasn’t supposed to be there at all. Or how the Oracles had told him going in that only the Slayer would be returning from that bloody realm. How he was there now and she wasn’t thanks to a group of entities older and more powerful than the Powers themselves, entities that had stepped in and saved him because Buffy would need his help. He would tell them about All and the coming badness with the Powers as soon as Buffy was home, but he wasn’t planning on telling anyone the other. Ever.
“I’m tellin’ you the bloody truth, Harris. Look at me. Does it look like I’m in any condition to be playin’ games, here? Do you think for one minute I’d come here, lie about something like this, hurt Dawn like that? I love her.”
“You don’t know the first thing about love.”
“Yes,” Willow stood and faced her lifelong friend, compassion and understanding in her gaze, “he does. He loves Dawn, Xander. He loved Buffy, too. I felt it when I was in his aura trail. He wouldn’t do what you’re suggesting. He couldn’t hurt Dawn or Buffy’s memory that way. If he is telling us that he went to heaven to get Buffy back, then I believe him. And I, for one, want to believe that she can come back.”
Dawn stood up, wrapped her arm around Spike’s waist and stared at Xander with a wisdom that belied her years. She just found out that a sister she’d never thought to see again may be returned to her, to all of them, and this was not the time for the group to be fragmented. Part of her was an aching, raw wound; part of her was giddy at the possibility.
“I know how much losing Buffy hurt you, Xander. It changed you and I’ve seen it but I haven’t said anything. I should have and I’m sorry. I know that you’re still not over it. None of us are. But it’s not right to blame Spike, or hate him for it. You lost someone you loved and you’ve been lashing out at the only person you’re conscience will allow you to. That’s what all this is about, right? Your pain and your loss - and the fear not that he’s lying, but that he’s telling the truth. It’s not Spike’s fault Buffy died. It’s not Buffy’s fault either. She did what she had to do to save all of us. And he just told us that she’s coming back. You have to let go of the anger. You have to. And you need to let go of the fear.”
Something cold and hard in Xander’s heart, something that had been there for twenty-six long days, started to thaw when faced with the immutable truth of a young girl who had no choice in life but to deal with issues far worse than his. Issues that took a back seat while she tried to ease his pain, despite the overwhelming burden of her own.
He couldn’t look away from her.
“Where is she, Spike?” he asked, all trace of venom gone from his voice and not once breaking eye contact with Dawn. “Where’s Buffy? Lets bring her home.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Across town, under the sheltering branches of a Weeping Willow, a lone figure clothed in a gauzy, cream-colored gown stared down at the tombstone in front of her. In her right hand was a sharp wooden stake, a very familiar sharp wooden stake. Mr. Pointy, to be exact. When she raised her hand to examine it, she smiled.
One of her extended family must have taken it upon themselves to make sure that she would never be unarmed in a cemetery. That was thoughtful.
It was a warm night, fragrant and breezy, and the scent of jasmine drifted in the air currents. Buffy breathed in deeply, enjoying the peace and quiet of the place.
Tears sprang to her eyes when she knelt down to get a closer look at the writing on the headstone in front of her.
BUFFY ANNE SUMMERS
1981-2001
BELOVED SISTER
DEVOTED FRIEND
SHE SAVED THE WORLD
A LOT
Buffy was moved and rocked by the reality of it all, truly understanding for the first time that she had really died. As in dead died. She’d also apparently been gone for a while; her grave wasn’t new. And now, thanks to the pressing need for her to rejoin the fight and one man’s dedication to doing the right thing, she’d returned. Suddenly it wasn’t such a small thing, or something to be shrugged away as just another day in the wicked fun life of the Slayer.
It was huge.
And the headstone perched at the top of her grave made it more than huge, it made it real.
The Slayer, the evolved Chosen One and Keeper of the Balance stood for a long time, just staring down at the grave of the girl she used to be.
Things were going to be different because she was different. She imagined that the people that she loved would be different as well. They had lost a friend and a sister, and had grieved for their loss.
Grief changes a person. Buffy knew that very well.
Yes. Things were going to be very different. But they were also going to be something else. No matter what happens in the future, no matter what other evil would pop up to threaten humanity, there was one thing Buffy was very sure of. Things were going to be better. Because she was better.
She was whole now, in a way that she’d never been before. And she was really looking forward to exploring herself, finding out what the balance had brought along with it.
And she’d have her sister without the fear of Glory over their heads, and the gang, and...oh, yeah...one other thing. A vampire that loved her. That she loved back.
Buffy smiled to herself, knowing that these changes were going to create some very interesting waves. She was willing to ride out the waves in the pursuit of happiness. For in the end, life is far too short not to accept happiness when you find it, accept love in whatever form it shows itself, be it werewolf, ex-demon, witch...or a soulless vampire with a conscience who was more of a man than most men.
And he was coming. They all were. Spike would know where she was; he would figure it out and bring them here. If he could find her in heaven, a cemetery was no stretch for a vampire. Soon they would all be together again. All Buffy had to do was wait.
Sitting down on top of her now empty grave, crossing her legs as demurely as possible in her dress, that’s exactly what she did. Wait. And she spent a little more time saying good-bye to a girl that had sacrificed herself for the people that she loved and the world she had lived in.