Sang et Ivoire

By Holly

Chapter Twenty-Eight

"I have it."

The statement itself was located somewhere between the realm of implausibility and complete bewilderment. For days, it seemed, there had been nothing. Word after word followed the continual stream of dead ends. And suddenly all was lifted with a simple declaration. He had it. Of course Giles had it. That was his job - to get it when things were darker than ever before.

But all was all right, now, because Giles had it.

"The Gate of Abraxas," he read, glancing to Dawn for verification. A string of enthusiastic nods immediately commenced; the girl's eyes brimmed wide with delayed recollection and acknowledgment. "Yes," the Watcher continued. "This does make sense. "Named after the God Abraxas, whose title numerically values three hundred and sixty five - otherwise, the duration of a year. It was believed by those who worshipped him that he commanded that number of gods. Some record him as virtuous...others do not."

"Well," Xander ventured, "if they named a hell-gate after him, I wouldn't put my support behind that vote."

Giles nodded distantly, flipping a page. "Some demonologists declare he was...well...a demon. A demon with the head of a king and serpents forming at his feet." With a sigh, he looked up, eyes connecting instantly with William. "That would make sense, then. Didn't the Master name himself after a serpentine monster?"

"Yeh," the peroxide vampire verified with a short nod. "Geryon from the Inferno. Right bastard."

"Enough with the origin," came Buffy's distant input. She was stationed in the corner of the living room, purposefully detached. Hardly three words had been coaxed out of her in communal conversation since she returned from patrolling days before. She, William, and Angel spent most evenings in each other's company, chatting about things they would not discuss with others. When she felt ready to retire, she would beckon the peroxide vampire to her side, and they wordlessly retreated to the upper levels where they were not heard from until the next evening. "I don't care who made the gate, or who's used it in the past. I'm only interested in two things. When the Master is going to open it unleash hell on earth, and how I stop him."

At that, the Watcher looked up once more, his eyes distant with worry. A cough scratched at his throat and he adjusted his glasses before tacitly returning to the reading.

"Giles." The warning in Buffy's voice was well perceived.

"It...umm..." He sighed and conceded, glancing up once more as he placed the book aside. "Not too dissimilar from Glory's ritual, if I read correctly. The Gate, theoretically, is anywhere and everywhere. At any time, the Master may access it, if he has what is needed for the rite. It is not a matter of merely one hell dimension, you see. It's all of them. Every one that populates the time and space continuum will be unlocked once Abraxas is activated. However...he lacks something in order to complete the ceremony." With the deadest of expressions, Giles met her inquisitive face, sorrow overwhelming his features. "And that's you, Buffy. The Gate will be outlined with the entrails of a pig and protected by..." He frowned and reopened the book, eyes squinting at the text. "Ivory blood, it looks like. Yes. It will open under the influence of the essence of a slayer. Tainted essence. Impurity, otherwise. Adulterated blood."

If possible, the room grew even quieter when he finished speaking. For a long, uncomfortable moment, a dull nothingness engulfed the atmosphere. The look on Buffy's face was neither angry nor astonished; rather grim and accepting. Instead, she merely nodded, stood, and took a turn about the room, face forgone as though lost in a trance. No one dared move or spoke a word, too fearful of disrupting a moment of fragility, of breaking her before she took a final wind.

Then at a highly anticlimactic moment, the resilience she relied on crumpled and Buffy dissolved into shrill, high-pitched giggles. Instantly, William tore from his mannequin state and rushed to her side, attempting without success to comfort her with an embrace. She would have none of it. With effort, she pulled away, furiously wiping the tears from her cheeks as her laughs became harder to grasp.

"Oh then!" she finally exploded. "Well, doesn't that just make perfect sense? Huh? It's not enough he uses my sister to...he conveniently leaves out the part where - hey - I'm going to end the world, wanna know how? So what have I done? Huh? What did I...I helped him! I helped that sadistic sonofabitch. I-"

Simultaneously, Angel and William stepped forward and were both ignored.

"Luv, please-"

"Oh no. Don't pull that." Buffy shook her head madly as her cries grew louder. "Don't you dare try to make everything seem like it's all right and easy, okay? It's not, Spike. It never, ever was." Every fiber of her being was trembling with rage that had to be placed somewhere. With desperation, she grasped the thing nearest to her - a vase owned by her mother - and watched with empty satisfaction as it broke into a thousand shards against the mantle.

"It's not easy," she said firmly, when the initial shock of her outburst had withered with passing understanding. If Buffy was at all disconcerted with her behavior, she did little to show it. "And it's certainly not all right. I know what I did. I don't need any goddamn reminders. I know that if the world doesn't end, I'll be here for a very, very long time. And you know what really bites? If I had to go back and do over - even now, even knowing this - I'd do it all again. Because the world means SHIT to me if the people I love get hurt."

Tears were skating down Dawn's face, and she looked beyond the point of intelligible communication. When she tried to speak and failed, she choked and ran upstairs. Her door closed with an accentuated slam.

"I think we're jumping the gun here," Willow said abruptly, rising to her feet. She earned an irritated glance from every angle in the room, and fought quickly to redeem herself. "I mean, we didn't let Giles finish. He didn't...there has to be some way to stop it. Has to be." Her gaze focused squarely on her friend, hardened with conviction. "Buffy, you said that nothing just happens. That everything happens for a reason. I know that's true. There's...you changed because you were supposed to. I know - hell, even I don't see how that's possible, but it has to be. Some way, it has to be."

"Has to be?" the Slayer spat back spitefully. "It was meant to happen so I could be the reason the world ends?"

"You don't know that, Buff," Xander intervened. "I mean, how many times has the world possibly ended? Hmmm? About as many times as you've stopped it."

"That was different. I was never the key to destruction before."

"Yes you were." Angel this time. Calm and collected - masking his worry through words. "Of course you were. You stopped the world from ending only six years ago by acting the part of the key, correct? And you did it for the same reason... There's nothing to do now but fight it. That's what you're here for. That's what you were born for. Fighting it. And when it's over, you can quit. That's what you've earned."

Buffy laughed again, loud and stinging of falsity. "Oh yeah. Everyone keeps telling me that. Like it's so easy. Just stop being the Slayer - it'll be fun. News flash! I've never tried that before. It doesn't work. It never works."

William stepped forward again. "You can fight it all you want, luv. 'S still 'ere. It'll always be 'ere. An' you know it. Accept it an' deal or die. Those are your choices. You've come this far already. Don' let a little thing like an apocalypse get in the way now. We got ourselves a vamp to slay."

"Yeah, well...you guys can have him." With a conclusive huff, she turned and followed the path taken by her sister only minutes before. "I won't do this. No. Not ever. He can't open the portal without me, so I'll just stay right here. Right here where he can't reach me. Where I-"

Giles hissed a sigh and rolled his head in aggravation. "That's ridiculous," he said sternly. "And you know it. Buffy Summers doesn't shy from her duties, no matter how ugly they are. You can't just wait here for him to come for you. While he prowls about stealing the lives of innocents. There are many ways to hurt you without ever laying a finger on you, and you above all people should know that."

"Of course." Buffy threw her arms up in defeat. "So, what, Giles? What? Do you have a master plan? Because the last time I went up against this guy, there was that little issue of me becoming dead. Again! Why do you think next time will amount to anything?"

"Why do you presume that he will conclude his hunt with you?" the Watcher snapped. "I tell you, if he cannot use you, he will settle for other sources. Faith, perhaps. I'm sure her say in the end of the world would be most memorable. And even if she disappoints him, there are two new slayers somewhere out there. It doesn't have to be anywhere specific. Just kill a slayer and open the Gate."

"So why did he let Spike take me away, huh? I mean, wouldn't it have made more sense to just use the dead girl then?"

"I believe Will was correct in his original assessment." Giles shook his head and heaved another sigh. "The Master did not count on our being in possession of a curse that would summon your soul and decided to play it safe by eliminating your circle of friends. I'd wager he planned on encountering you somewhere on the killing fields. It's amazing you haven't seen him yet, what with all the nights you've spent patrolling."

That seemed to be the final buckshot needed to crumple the Slayer's impenetrable shield. A beat passed before the real tears came. Hard and true, desperate and screaming. She waited for William's embrace before falling to her knees, throwing her arms around his neck as she muffled her cries into his shoulder. He did not attempt to calm her, rather let her scream her fury and grief at the world she had lost onto his weary body. A few strokes of encouragement glided down her back, but any further prompt would be resented.

When at last her sobs subsided, William released a breath. Kneading her skin through her shirt supportively, weary that at any minute she could collapse and wash away once more. Nothing that had been voiced rang one syllable of spuriousness. There was nothing anyone could say to make her hurt less. Nothing anyone could do but stand in silence and wait until the storm was over.

When he thought the worst had passed, the platinum vampire pulled her tightly to him with empty comfort. The touch was reciprocated as though she were in the arms of a snake. His shirt was damp with the affects of her sorrow. There was nothing to do or say but hold her to him and wait it out.

"So what now?" Buffy finally croaked, voice raw with worry and tears. "We go fight this evil? I wait until he decides it's time to make a move and right out kill me?" With some reluctance, she tore herself away from William's arms, not bothering to wipe the residue of her outburst away from her face. "How, Giles? How do we stop it?"

The Watcher, tainted with manifest concern, cleared his throat and looked down once more to his reading. "Ummm...quite. The Master is the only one who can perform the ritual. It has something to do with his heritage. The bloodline of those before him." He glanced upward with resolution. "The one you killed - and the one before him...all have had similar opportunities that they discarded for one reason or another."

"I explained this all a long time ago," William interjected with an empty smile as he brushed strands of hair slick with tears away from her eyes. "Vamps talk big, luv. Those really interested in death an' destruction. Peaches 'ere wanted the world to end." He tossed a sideways glance in the implicated direction just in time to see Angel flinch in affect. Even now, that held some gratification - no matter how close they might have to be. "'Course, 'e wasn't the only one. Dru was 'alf-mad to end all civilization. She-"

"Half mad?" Xander retorted cynically. "So where'd the other half come from?"

The peroxide vampire leered at him for a second before continuing. "But, as you know, not all of us are that way. I never was - with or without a soul. Anythin' I did...helpin' the Judge, fo' starters...that was jus' to entertain the lady. I was happy 's long as she was." At that, he chuckled bitterly at himself and rolled his eyes. "Bloody wanker..."

"Glad I'm not the only one thinking that," Harris quipped. Willow tossed him a glance stationed between amusement and disapproval before thwapping his shoulder and motioning to shush.

"But the Master...the one before this git an' all...all of 'em that came first...I doubt they wanted the world to end anymore than I did. Sure, what's-'is-face attempted to release the sodding Hellmouth. Who 'asn't tried that in the past century at leas' once?"

Blank stares gathered around the room. William bit his lip and frowned. "Jus' me then? Oh well. Point's still there."

"You tried to unleash the Hellmouth?" Willow asked, brows perked.

"Yeah. Well, not really. Din't give it 'alf an effort. Right after I left L.A...or was that New York? Bloody hell, I can't remember. I was drinkin' a lot then. Anyway,
I came 'ere an' decided the world wasn't worth livin' in without Dru." He shook his head in self-disgust. "Got myself really drunk, 'f you can imagine. Went to the rubble an' did my damndest...to get drunker. Din't work, o'course - the Hellmouth part, anyway. After I came to, I went out to find Buffy an' pick a right fight. Initiative found me instead." William shrugged. "S'pose the rest is history."

He wasn't sure what he was expecting when he looked into the Slayer's eyes, but it wasn't what he found. A new light of shared amusement cackled behind the otherwise gray shell. A bright spark rimmed in the red bruises of aching despair. It was bright and refreshing, and a taste he loved. Never before had he prompted such a reaction by talking about his past dirties. And even after all they had shared since his return, he was so unaccustomed to fondness on her part that receiving any such response was warm and welcome.

Then he knew why. He had referred to himself in the first person. He acknowledged the real Spike in his existence, discarding all previous attempts to hide it. Why it should make her smile, he did not know, but anything was better than grief. Hell, he'd tell her a million of his former self's tales if only to see that twinkle in her eyes again and again.

"They weren't kidding when they'd said you'd been around," Xander muttered, earning another sharp elbow.

"'Ey - I was a git, sure. I've done a lot of bloody things that I'm not proud of. Things that would make the lot of you 'ave bad dreams for the rest of your lives. Things I can barely..." Dear god, now he was crying. With a pathetic sniff, he glanced to Angel and was surprised to find understanding. Why he was surprised, he did not know. It was simply another new flavor that required adjusting. "But tha's over an' done with. The point is, this bloke's really got a yen to destroy all civilization, an' tha's not something you get from many vamps. Not genuinely, anyway."

"So now that we're all thoroughly reminded why it is we hate soulless Spike," Xander said quickly, "could we get back to the matter at hand? What now? How do we stop this?"

"It's very simple, really," Giles replied, adjusting himself. "Once the Master is dead, all chances of him opening up this...gate are lost as well."

"And we do that how?"

"Just like the rest of them," the Slayer said softly. "The old fashioned way."

Willow's eyes widened. "A stake? That's it?"

Buffy shrugged and bit her lip. "A really big stake?"

"'E'll dust jus' as easily as any of 'em," William said confidently. "I mean, girl 'as wicked powerful strength now, not to mention a decade of advanced experience an' a crowd of brassed Scoobies who'd love to get a piece of this bloke."

"I hate to be the pessimist," Angel ventured with delicate undertone. "But I suppose someone must be rational. Buffy can beat him. We all know she can. Still, we must face facts...that doesn't mean that he still can't beat her." At that, the Slayer drew in an unnecessary breath and cast her eyes downward in silent acknowledgement. William felt a rush of agitation for his grand-sire but did not voice it for seeing the truth behind words no one wanted to hear. "He has once, and I think we all learned from that not to underestimate what lengths he is willing to go to." A long silence followed once his share was voiced, and the vampire grew exasperated in affect. "Well, someone had to say it! Do you think I like the idea? It kills me. But we have to be prepared. We have to. Giles...how do we stop the Gate of Abraxas from opening should the Master get his hands on her?"

The Watcher heaved a sigh and cleared his throat. "The text is not specific," he reported. "There are more inconsistencies here than...well, you can imagine. From what I gather, the Gate will only close with a sacrifice of pure psyche, or spirit, if you will." If possible, the air grew even more silent. "Abraxas seems to think that justifies the means. It would, of course, kill the carrier - but that is the material point. Something horrible retracted in exchange for something good. Should it come down to that...you-"

"Yeah." There was no emotion behind Buffy's voice, and the gaze behind her eyes was long distant and dead. It held a certain dry acceptance: the knowledge of fate before she consigned herself to it. "Sure. I know what it means. Right. Sacred calling and all that bullshit. I know. I know. My death. Again. I know."

"No," Giles said solidly. "I don't believe so. You are dead, Buffy. You have already crossed that threshold. More besides, impurity resides within you now. Impurity in its darkest form. No...making a martyr of yourself would do little good to anyone." With another sigh, he glanced at the remaining contestants, face weary and grave. "It would have to be...one of us."

The Slayer's breath hitched in her throat, and for a wild second, it sounded her heart was pounding. Her eyes widened like saucers before her body collapsed in trembles of fervent denial. Every strand of her core shook with negation. "No. It won't happen," she said sharply. "I won't let it happen. No, no, no." Frantically, she turned back to William. "We're on it. Now. You, me, and Angel. I'm willing to sit here and let the world end, but I am sure as hell not willing to let my friends sacrifice themselves for its sake. Not for all the bullshit it does to pay us back. That's my fucking job. Let's go. Now. He wants a fight? Sure. We'll bring one right to him."

The new resolution grasping her features was so counterpoint to the sheered frustration of only moments ago that Angel and William both lent pause and glanced at each other worriedly. Undoubtedly, this was the same Buffy they had known for years - rushing headfirst into danger's grasp when it threatened the face of her kin. The same Buffy that would allow the world to end for lack of conviction but refused to see her friends suffer. Somewhere in her conscious, the planes of reality and ideology had landed on separate crossways. They had all seen it before when Glory nearly stole Dawn's existence. All for the sake of family was she willing to go that extra mile, whether or not it meant her death.

"I know what I'm doing," the Slayer said firmly when she saw their troubled expressions. "For God's sake, if I don't after all this time, then who the hell signed me up for this gig? Let's go now. Let's get this goddamned thing over with."

"You are unprepared," Giles said with gravity, taking a step forward. "You have no idea what the Master will throw at you. He has been arranging this for a long while now, and-"

"Well, fuck that!" she spat. "I'm not going to sit here while he makes all his plans to destroy the world. Nuh uh. Not without me. You got the wrong girl. He wants me; he can have me. But don't even think about touching my friends. That's why I'm here, right? To help destroy it? Well, let's get to destroying, then." A firm lack of conviction scratched her vocals, her voice still flooded with the tears of just a few minutes ago. Yet that girl was gone. Buffy the Pacifist died in committee, and it was the Slayer's turn to emerge. She turned to William, eyes flashing with intent. "He'll just have to fight us all off, first."

The platinum vampire thought the clog in his throat was large enough to choke a killer whale, but he swallowed and nodded, offering a vague smile. "Tha's right, pet," he assured her. "'E isn't takin' you away without a good brawl, an' I aim to give 'im one." He eyed Angel with indifference. "Same fo' Peaches, I'm sure."

"Yeah," the other agreed. "We're here for you, Buffy. Just tell us what you want to do."

"I want to go. Now." She turned back to William. "Could you get back to the Initiative? Back to the pathway you took?"

A look of warning caught his eye, and he saw the Watcher shaking his head in fervent suggestion. However, he could not lie to her. Not now. Not with all that had passed, even if it was for her own good. Buffy would not sit around and wait under these conditions, and he would much rather be there with her than have her wandering the town alone. "Yeah, luv. I can get us there."

Giles released an exasperated sigh, but there was no contesting the resolution set in his Slayer's face. The look was not particularly unique to Buffy, but her determination was not something that merited trifling. With a weary nod, he gave his otherwise unneeded consent, and William grasped his love's hand and marched wearily to the door.

"Tell Dawn..." The Slayer said as she turned to secure the house behind her, demeanor softening. It was strange the way that worked. One minute she was all business, and the next she was a little girl again. A little girl carrying the burden of the world for the sake of responsibility and not choice. The soft side of her persona that only those closest to her were allowed a glimpse at. At that moment, he felt proud and mutually unworthy to be among those select few. "Tell Dawn that I...she means more to me than-"

The Watcher held up a hand of understanding, and a small, faint smile tickled his lips. "She knows, Buffy. And despite her otherwise unmovable disposition, she understands. All too well, in fact."

She nodded. "And...should something happen..."

"Somethin' won't," William snarled. "I won' let it."

"But if something should happen...you will..."

"We'll take care of her, Buff," Xander said softly. "You know we will."

A soft, complacent grin shadowed her mouth. "Yeah. I suppose I do." The platinum vampire rested his arm around her shoulder, prompting her outdoors. "Goodbye."

Why is it, he thought glumly, that goodbyes seem so final when ya know you're prolly not comin' back?

And like that, they were off. Held together by honor and duty. William felt Buffy grasp his hand tightly for reassurance, and though he reciprocated the touch with a dose of goodwill, the hope burning inside was already beginning to wither. The stroke of usual stamina and courage flashed behind her eyes whenever he looked at her, and it killed him to read the message ablaze in her hidden abyss. She did not want to die. Not really. Not again. That was it. There was nothing behind that knowledge. It was a reason for fighting. A reason for living. A reason for dying if it meant she didn't have to. All he knew was he was standing beside the woman he loved, and he would fight the forces of hell to keep her in this world. Even if it meant sacrificing everything that constructed his humanity.

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