Sang et Ivoire

By Holly

Chapter Thirty-Eight

The approach to 1630 Revello Drive was slow-paced and bittersweet. Every step crackled with electric tension, and as she fought for comfort, William grasped her hand and offered a reassuring squeeze.

The confession to cross her lips was by no means the first admittance. A same old song that danced time and time again, never altering in tune despite how furiously the symphony prepared. A grave but valid understanding; one that would potentially take her years to overcome. "I don't think I can do this."

"Don' worry 'bout it, pet."

"What if..." She looked at him in silent plea for comfort, however empty. "I know they love me, Will. I told you, and I do know it. But..." Her teeth found her lower lip and gnawed wearily.

"What if they don', you mean? Luv, tha's a big 'what if.'"

She nodded, tears clouding her eyes. The past evening had given her hope and time. Together, they had cried enough to last an eternity. It seemed futile to revert to square one now.

"Not even a possibility," William said confidently. "'Sides, 's not like you're the firs' to fall into darkness. Imagine how Red felt, comin' back 'ere all alone. She has stones, an' so do you." Delicately, he planted a feather-light kiss on her hand. "You 'ave me, too. Whatever consolation that brings. You'll get through this, pet. We both will."

Buffy smiled faintly. "It's guided hope, but I guess it's all we got."

He nodded, caressing her face with curled fingers. "More than that. 'S all we need."

The door opened after what felt like an eternity, swinging with stillness that suggested empty temperament. Xander stood on the opposite side; his eyes telling tales of the hours lost to worry. Both vampires detected the near-audible rush in pulse and virtually saw a frog leap in his throat.

There was nothing on his face for a long minute. Nothing but their mingled breaths hanging suspended in the air before the full gravity of Harris's relief swept into his eyes. "Oh God!" he gasped at last, stepping forward and pulling her into his arms. The boundary protecting the house quivered as she neared the territorial mark. William pursed his lips as a flash of undying sadness drew across her face, but she courageously pushed her reservation aside.

"I'm so glad to see you," he said perceptively; hold constricting in a firm refusal to let go. "We didn't... we couldn't know what happened until Angel came back." His gaze traveled to the platinum vampire. "He said you got her out. We've just been... waiting here since."

"It's good to see you, too, Xan," Buffy replied, pulling back to wipe her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I-"

"Don't even," he said immediately. "Angel... he spent a good part of... well, the entire time talking to us. Telling us what to expect. More importantly, what not to expect." He released a long-winded sigh. "Buff, I know you. I've known you for ten years. And I know what happened wasn't your fault."

William's eyes narrowed in spite of himself. "Since when did you become a picketer for us no-pulsers?"

"Since my best friend sacrificed herself to-"

"Don't," the Slayer said, holding up a hand. "Please don't."

"No problem," Xander replied immediately.

"Where's Dawn?"

He motioned inward and her sister appeared on the stairs, masterfully timing her apt cue. The air between them flickered with immediate response; Buffy read the pain in her eyes and felt something climactic within her crash. Without realizing it, her gaze had blurred with tears. "Oh God," she whispered. "Dawnie..." The reaction was instantaneous - she tried to go forward and met the barrier in result. That only prompted further strings of heartache.

The look she received was unreadable, almost cold. William felt compelled to say something but dared not for the world. It was not his place to decide. The Nibblet had made her feelings concerning her sister's return abundantly clear, but despite the façade of appearance, he knew she was jumping for joy inside. With deliberate slowness, Dawn took a few steps down the stairs, gaze never wavering. When she was close enough to touch, to reach just inside the entry, she stopped and peered.

Then respite like no other filled her eyes with warmth, and an incomparable smile broke across her face as two tears skated down her cheeks. "Come in," she whispered, and no sooner had she leapt beyond the periphery and thrown her arms around her sister's quaking frame. "Buffy. Oh God." They hugged forever; inseparable by any force, clung to one another by blood and love in a way no one else could hope to ever touch.

"Dawn," she choked, clutching her sister with more strength than any person should be made to tolerate. There was no want of objection; the encouragement fueled by ardor only persuaded her to make the hold all the more restrictive. "I'm so sorry. Please... I'm so sorry..."

"I know." Reluctantly, the girl pulled away, a sad smile fashioned on her face. "Believe me, you don't go through this three times without learning something in the... well... at all. With you and Angel... and him..." She nodded discreetly to William. "Don't feel sad. Please don't feel sad. I-"

At that, the peroxide vampire stepped forward, taking Buffy's hand in his. It was nothing of a possessive display; rather precisely what she needed now more than ever. "Don' worry 'bout that, Bit," he said. "We'll take care of everythin'."

The majority of the first few hours consisted of the trades, the shared tears, countless apologies and a thousand pardons. Angel held her in a tight embrace for what seemed like hours - a raw exhibit of his tightly clad emotions. Aside from Dawn, from whom she needed the most forgiveness, Buffy begged her first love's pardon for her ill-conceived actions. For the blatant strain on his durability and other things she couldn't possibly be held responsible for.

A time was reserved privately between Watcher and Slayer.

There was Wesley as well. Wesley to thank with all her heart. She crushed him with superior strength. "I don't think thank you's a big enough... well, thank you," she whispered. "I'm just glad you were here. And I..." Hesitantly, she glanced to the elder vampire. "Ummm... Faith. I..."

Xander stepped forward and braced her shoulder supportively. "That wasn't your... well, okay... I'm going to sound like the king of all hypocrites, seeing as I've been the residing President of 'Stake 'Em Vamps' ever since you started on with Angel. And even more so with..." He looked to William, cleared his throat, and directed his attention away again. "But... you're... you're Buffy. Buff. The Buffster. Lady of Buffdom, Duchess of Buffonia." His voice was becoming hoarse. "And it wasn't your fault."

"You can't carry the burden," Angel agreed, solitary in his corner. "I know that's easier said than done. Believe me, I know. You'll always have the memory. Feel the sensation. Endure the pain. That never goes away."

"Sure, Peaches," William snickered, crossing his arms and tossing a wry glance to the black night. "Bloody brilliant angle. When you get to the point of 'can't hardly get up without breakin' down,' lemme jump in. Gotta few pointers on 'ow to-"

The reaction was instantaneous. Angel and Xander shot him identical looks of raw annoyance and muttered, "Shut up, Spike," in perfect unanimity.

Buffy grinned. "Thanks," she said softly. "Believe it or not, in a really weird way, that does help."

The elder vampire flashed his childe a cocky, however brief glance.

Willow stepped forward. "So... what now? The Master's dead, you're all normal-like..." She looked hopefully to William. "Is... have you... decided...?"

"It isn't over yet, Red," he replied dismally. "But we're gettin' there. The Slayer an' me 'ave decided to get ourselves 'round to Africa. The bloke who gave me this permanent soul thing 's over there somewhere. 'S been a few years, but I can find my way again."

Giles looked up with sharp interest. "What are you saying?"

"Come on, Ripper. Even you aren't that daft." The platinum vampire grinned. "We're gonna go get 'er one, too. No more of that sodding 'one more of true happiness' crap. Sorry, Peaches." He tossed the grand sire a brief, obviously disinterested glance. "What works for you an' all. I s'pose you could tag along an' see if the Great An' Powerful Oz feels givin' enough to jus' hand 'em out. I-"

"Stop talking," Angel said desperately. "Just... stop. Are you sure this... demon that restored your soul would be just... willing to perfect her condition? Wouldn't there be consequences? Wouldn't-"

"Yeh. An' for those who 'ave been listenin', this chap'll put 'er through some right powerful trials." He smiled at her. "But she can do it. I know 'er enough to know that."

For a long minute, Angel appeared thoroughly tempted. Buffy knew for certain; she had seen that look flash across his face only days before. However, in the end, he shook his head and heaved a sigh. "The more people to go, the more time and hassle it'll cost. If all goes well, I might find myself over there someday. You never can know. Besides... Cordy called last night. She-"

"Cordelia?" Xander asked, as if the planet was overpopulated with 'Cordy's', and they, by chance, were affiliated with every single one. "Wow. I haven't seen her in forever."

"They're somewhat desperate to see you home," Wesley agreed. "Things have been rather hectic. The demon populace apparently got wind of the entire 'new Master rises' and has since been wreaking havoc in various parts of the city. I don't suppose news has spread that the danger is over. It's been hell trying to keep everything quiet."

"I can imagine," the elder vampire said softly. "Wolfram and Hart must have wasted thousands in funding supporting the..." He paused when he realized everyone was staring at him. "I suppose now is not the time to talk shop."

The conversation proceeded without further encouragement. Giles crossed his arms and paced forward slowly. "And after this is over," he said. "After you obtain a permanent restoration rite for Buffy... what are your plans from there, Will? Have you made any move to contact the library administration?" A glint of poignant hope tickled his tone - the type that said I'll miss you and move on in the same beat. Despite everything they had been through, everything that had happened over the past few years, the past few days, it was still somewhat bizarre to receive the old man's blessing.

But only somewhat.

"I'm thinkin' we'll stop in London before goin' as far as Africa," the platinum vampire replied. "I 'ave a few things to settle there, an' I'd like to go over what she'll be expectin' come the trials."

"But after that. When-"

"That depends on the Slayer," William replied simply. "I made 'er a promise last night an' I don' aim to go back on it. 'S whatever she decides."

At that, all eyes fell on Buffy. She huffed a long breath and shrugged. "We still have some things to figure out," she said. "But he's... we've pretty much decided that whatever it is that we have to face, it'd be easier to do it together. Especially after... what happened."

Dawn smiled softly, though everyone could tell she was simply bursting with positive energy. It was such a thoroughly welcome transition. Warmth filled the atmosphere despite alternative suggestion, despite what they had faced these past few days. Despite everything. "So, you two are together? I mean, really, really together? As in a couple? As in 'until apocalypse do you part'?"

William smiled. "I'm guessin' you don' completely hate the idea, do you, Nibblet?"

The Witch practically bounded forward before Dawn could reply, leaping into the peroxide vampire's arms and pulling him into a large, heartfelt bear-hug. "I knew it," she whispered. "I knew you couldn't stay away. I-"

"Will," Buffy intervened, an edge, however minimal, to her voice. "We haven't... ummm... decided anything yet. There are other things to decide. Like... where we're going to live. What we're going to do. I hesitate to think how many slayers have been called into action with..." She looked to Angel with a deeper root of understanding. "I'm... not sure of anything right now."

The look of subliminal bliss washed coldly off her sister's face. "What do you mean... where you're going to live? Has here been completely ruled out? You're not going to leave us, are you?"

"Dawnie, I didn't say that-"

"It sure sounded like it. You're going to leave us?"

William paced forward and took hold of her arm. "Nibblet, we 'aven't the slightest idea what we're doin' jus' yet. But all things gotta be taken into account. Your sis couldn't well stay 'ere forever an' watch the lot of you grow old an' leave 'er... no more than I could."

"And the Mayor," Angel added, capturing everyone's attention. "Mayor Wilkins. I know that was a long time ago, but he had some good points. Points so true that it inspired me to leave. It's hard watching those you love grow old. There would come the day when you would resent Buffy so much for her youth that..." He glanced to Dawn empathetically. "You should-"

"Don't tell me what I should or shouldn't do!" the girl cried. "Don't expect me to understand or... be happy... or..." Menacingly, she turned to William. "What was the point of bringing her back if you're just going to take her away from me again? You-"

"Dawn!" Buffy seized her flailing arms. "Calm down. We haven't decided anything yet. We can't-"

"No!" She yanked herself out of reach. "I don't want to hear how it's in yours and my best interest, or how... I just don't want to hear it!"

William thundered forward. "Now, look 'ere, Nibblet. Mind your sis. We're-"

The previous manifest support harbored so delicately in her adolescent subconscious had all but dissolved. "Oh, now you're giving me orders?" Tears streaked roadways down her cheeks. "You, the vamp who doesn't-"

"Don't even think of finishing that sentence, young lady!" Buffy snapped. A look of unguided pain flashed across the platinum vampire's face, and with subtle withdraw he retreated to the corner beside Giles.

"You're always thinking of yourself!" the girl cried. "How dare you even consider leaving me... again! Won't you-"

"That's enough," Harris said sharply. "Back off, Short Stuff. She hasn't said she's leaving you or anything. Honestly, Dawn, grow up..." At that, he paused. "Says me. Anyway, you're a high school graduate and probably the luckiest kid on the face of the planet. You have a sister who has and would sacrifice everything to make sure you get every opportunity in life. So you could live. Don't ever call her selfish again. I-"

"Xander," Buffy intervened softly. "Don't yell at her. That's okay. Thanks anyway."

The fire in Dawn's eyes had withered, but her face remained hardened and unresolved. "You can't do this to me," she said, voice saturated in obduracy. "I told you not to take the jump for me, and you did. I told you not to let the Master sire you, and you did. I told you-" She motioned to Willow, "not to do the curse again. To just let Faith take care of it so she wouldn't feel horrible about what happened, but you did. And now... now you give her back to me... again... and she's what? Going away? Leaving me for the thousandth time? What's the point anymore? What-"

"I've had enough," Giles said with a dramatic though predictable fierce removal of his glasses. "Dawn, you cannot possibly know how hard this has been for her. No one here except Angel and William have any feasible idea what she is going through. I know you've had it rough. I know you've suffered, but you cannot hope to ask of her what you're... asking of her. You yourself said you didn't want her in pain to-"

"You guys are making a whole lot of assumptions on what I intend to do with my never-ending life," the Slayer snickered. "For the last time, I haven't decided anything yet! We have to get around the Africa thing first. I don't want to leave you guys... at all. But... you can't..." She shook her head. "You can't expect me to... like Angel said. And Giles. You have no idea how hard this is. There's no way you could."

"And you have the right to presume what I'm going through is a piece of cake?"

At that, the last strain of patience dissolved. "Please. Continue talking about things you have no feasible conception of. God knows I love you, Dawnie, but you're making this harder on me. Do you think I want to leave and never come back? You're my world. What more do I have to do to prove that to you?"

There was nothing to rebuttal on that note. The look on the girl's face fell with deeper recognition, and a sigh burdened her small frame. She shook her head as her eyes welled again with tears. "Nothing. Buffy, I'm sorry. This is just... it's too much, you know? All of this. It's just too much."

The two were drawn together like magnets, seeking comfort in the other's embrace while crying a wealth of grief that could never be eased. "I'm sorry," Dawn muttered again. "I just don't want you to go away. Not after everything."

"I don't want to go, either, sweetie." Buffy pulled away and met William's gaze. The look he depicted was mournful and engaging. A conversation could pass between their eyes and no one would notice. If there was one consistency to bank on, it was his devotedness to maintaining any vow that crossed his lips. He had promised to make her happy. After everything was over, he promised to make her happy.

And yet she couldn't look down that road. She wouldn't allow herself to become that selfish. There was a life in London that he adored. A life that he wouldn't leave without serious reservations, even if he never outwardly exhibited regret. Through everything that had occurred, he had remained singularly altruistic. She owed it to him to repay some of the same.

It all depended on where they decided to go from there. Where there was to go when the path forked in two directions.

At that minute, she hadn't the faintest inkling of what lay around the bend.

*~*~*

What felt like weeks of vampirehood and she wasn't accustomed yet to smelling the sun before it crossed the horizon. Angel had told her as much years ago, and even then, the concept had been difficult to grasp. How could any one creature smell the approach of daylight? It seemed like an additive to melodramatics.

She had been naïve. There was no denying that.

Buffy leaned over the back porch railing, sipping every now and then at a mug of cooling blood. The night provided little to see beyond the sketches of paling stars and promise of imminent sunrise. William stood inside; she could feel his eyes burning into her back, but she understood that he would not join her unless she extended the invitation.

The feeling of extensive deadness spanned miles within her. What she was supposed to think, she did not know. How she was supposed to react, she had no reasonable grasp. The world seemed tiny yet enormous at the same time. There was so much to explore.

She had no idea where to begin.

Buffy assumed she and William would leave the country as early as the next day - the end of the week at the very latest. She wanted it over. All of it.

No one should suffer this much pain.

What they - Angel and the others - had told her remained true, of course. Somewhere deep within her cavity, she understood that what had happened was not at her blame. That didn't stop the images from coming. Every time she closed her eyes, Faith's neck twisted a little tighter, crunched a little louder. She died a little more.

The darkness she had touched terrified her beyond reproach in a way that could not be conveyed to anyone - even those who had the slightest chance of comprehending her pain. It was more than the fire to kill her enemy. More than everything. She had lashed out with the same violence toward the Master before mistakenly feeding him to the Gate of Abraxas. That outrage. That fiery, passionate fury. She had never felt anything so black before in her life.

The thought was beyond terrifying. She feared for her sister. For Xander, Willow, and Giles. For Angel and William. But mostly for herself. A sort of animalesque barbarity had bred her into something that required nothing but adequate prompt to be pushed into gear. It would be easy to blame that on the demon, but she knew. She knew it was birthed somewhere within her. The soul within the monster.

It was prophetic, sadly. Spike had told her time and time again that she belonged in the shadows, and she was only now beginning to agree with him.

Tears rolled down her cheeks without feeling. Numbness stretched every inch of her cold skin. She couldn't cry forever, but she might as well die trying.

The back door slammed closed. She flinched but didn't bother to turn.

"You know," Giles said softly. She could smell the coffee he held with acute awareness. The thought almost made her chuckle. He had not slept a wink, but that was not without assistance. "It is getting rather late."

"Don't you mean early?"

"Hmmm. Touché." He took a long sip and sighed. "If you're planning on greeting the sunlight when it comes up, I'd advise against it. Will tried the same thing a few years ago. He thinks that I don't know about it, but I do." A rumble of humorless mirth shook the Watcher's body. "I was ready to drag him off that rooftop kicking and screaming if I had to."

"I know," she replied. "He told me."

"Buffy, do not be upset with him for bringing you back. He thought he was doing the right thing." He huffed. "That's the thing about him; he has the most insufferable loyalty of anyone I've ever met - outside Xander, of course."

"I'm not upset with him." She sighed. "Well, I was of course. I mean - sure - who wouldn't be? But he did do the right thing. I need to do this... face up to what I've done. Accept the consequences."

"You cannot be held accountable for anything," Giles replied. "I know you'll tire of hearing that, but it is the truth. You did what you though was right. What your blood commanded of you."

Buffy snickered. "Funny. When Angel went wacky everyone still blamed him for what happened to Ms. Calendar. Don't play favorites on me."

There was a brief pause. "I realize that," he replied a second later. "It was terribly unfair. We didn't know... or understand. I suppose you really don't comprehend the layers of souled vampires until you work with one for several years. It was through that that I was able to see the distinction between Will and his demon counterpart. Granted, they are very much the same, but there are notable differences. He is not like you. For whatever reason, he can be both. You are not."

Another audible scoff tittered through her body. "Don't try to make me feel better. You didn't see me before I jumped through the Gate. I went completely postal on the Master."

"That sounds natural."

"No, I mean seriously, I was two seconds from ripping his head off with my teeth." Buffy shook her head heavily. "I've never felt anything that black. It was as if the transition from Slayer to 'no souly, look at me!' was already in motion. I turned into something... terrible."

"You were provoked, though, correct? Willow was able to relate some of what Geryon said before he died."

At that, her eyes darkened. "I'll say I was provoked. Can't even remember what the hell he said, but it was enough to get me going. But that's not the point, Giles. I was... I was a monster. I've never felt like that before."

He sighed and moved directly beside her. The scent of coffee became thick and almost intolerable. She wondered how it would taste intermingled with blood. "Well, Buffy," he said, "you are a vampire now. Violent outbursts are embedded in your nature. It is to be expected. You have strength beyond strength. I'd wager you've only sampled what power now lies at your fingertips."

"Great. More chaos."

"I don't believe so."

She was crying before she realized it. That was another annoying side effect to rekindled humanity; tears came naturally. Without warning or forethought she would find herself sobbing into a deluge. It was a miracle she had not drowned in her own tears. "I... the things I did-"

"You can't blame yourself."

"Stop saying that!" At once, she jumped away, wiping the moistness at her face with frustration. "God, why does everyone insist on telling me the obvious? I realize that it wasn't me. That Faith and everyone else I killed wasn't... it wasn't my fault. I get that, okay? But I feel it, Giles. Every time I close my eyes, every time I pause to take a breath - God, isn't that an annoying habit to kick? - every time I... it wasn't me. Sure. But I was there. I was there and I didn't stop it." Buffy choked a sob and shook her head with sudden fury. "And now... everything's so... Dawn hates me. Will's going to give up everything he loves for me. That's not fair... after all I've put him through. I finally got what I want and I'm miserable! I can't do shit about it. I'm stuck here in a-"

"Dawn does not hate you," the Watcher assured her, tone neutral and soft. "She loves you very much. She has been put through far more than anyone can really take into account. I think we underestimate that at times."

She sniffed. "It's not like my life has been a bed of roses, either."

"Yes, but you didn't have a choice. You were born to stop evil. She was created to be hidden from evil." Giles sighed. "I think we expect too much of her at times. Despite... memories and all sense of understanding, she is only six years old when it boils down to the final all." He paused. "And I guarantee you, if his leaving the library meant half as much to Will as you do, he wouldn't budge for the world."

The sky was beginning to brighten with streaks of daylight. "He hasn't said as much to me," she whispered. "I mean, it's implied. And I know he loves me... but he still... he hasn't said it."

The Watcher chuckled unsmilingly. "Oh? Is that all? Honestly, Buffy, if you've ever had any doubt in the sincerity of his feelings-"

"I haven't." A brief pause. "I just... I don't want him to feel obligated to be with me. He says he's going to spend the rest of his unlife trying to make me happy. It all sounds very wine and roses, but I... if there's someplace he'd rather be... something he'd-"

"If there was someplace William would rather be, trust me, he would be there. You're his whole world." Giles smiled softly. "If he neglects to bluntly relate his affection, it might be for subconscious fear of lingering rejection. He memorized the taste of your dismissal well enough to copy the recipe. I'm not saying he does it intentionally. You must be patient with him."

A brief want of fierce refutation flared within her, but there was nothing to say to justify her former actions. Cold understanding settled in. They took simultaneous drinks of their respective beverages and stilled once more.

"If nothing else," the Watcher continued, dumping the rest of his coffee over the side of the railing, "look no further than the extents to which he is willing to go for you. Words are cheap, Buffy. Actions display one's love with much more reality than anyone else could possibly offer."

"I feel so... shitty." She sighed and finished off the blood with a large mouthful. "Out of everything that's happened, and I worry about the most selfish-"

"It's not selfish. It's human. A human reaction in the need of love." Giles stepped backward. "If you didn't worry about it, you would be truly dead."

She snickered cynically. "With my track record, I'll never be truly dead."

They shared a mutually unfunny chuckle.

"The sun is coming up," he observed. "And he's waiting for you."

"I know," Buffy replied. "He's been watching me ever since I came out here."

"Yes, and he is willing to wait forever." Finally, she turned to meet the Watcher's eyes. Wisdom beyond comprehension soared with stunning magnitude. "It's displays like that that scream I love you. You oughtn't need any further reassurance." He paused, looked down, then up again, gaze fixed on the graying sky. "You better get indoors. You both deserve your rest."

Then he was gone, retreated inward to get some sleep before the sun decided to show its face. Buffy sighed and set her cup on the ground beside her.

"It helps to hear it, though," she whispered. "However unneeded it might be."

She went in shortly thereafter, meeting William by his post. They shared few words - conversation was suddenly unnecessary. He kissed her chastely and they retired upstairs. Another sleepless interval of guilt-stricken reflection. Another day to curl in his arms and forget the world lies waiting outside her bedroom door.

Another day passed. Another day to face.

Another day in which she could start again.

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