Title: Sweet Hereafter
Author: Eve
Email: alfa_fighter_3@hotmail.com
Pairing: W/A/S
Rating: NC-17 overall
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own all characters from BtVS and A:tS, the rest are mine.
Author's Notes: In my world, there was no Tara, no Glory, and Angel has been in love with Willow since she brought him back from Hell
Feedback: Writers need feedback like mere mortals need air. :-P
Summary: Fifteen years after the opening of the Hellmouth, Willow, Spike, and Angel meet again

Chapter 6


When Willow got home, the house was empty. She had left before Spike was up, and he hadn't waited for her to come back. He must be really mad at me, she thought, collapsing on the couch with a groan. Just one more thing to worry about on top of all her other problems. Well, it wasn't really like she had a lot of problems. She had two. Spike. And Angel.

She pressed her fingers to her lips, replaying the kiss in her mind, the shattered look on Angel's face when she pulled away. He couldn't have looked more pained if she had plunged her hand into his chest and ripped out his heart. She finally let her tears fall, catching them in her cupped palms as she rested her head in her hands. She loved Spike. She would never leave him unless he told her to, and even then she would make it a good fight. She didn't want to leave him, had know that years ago when she asked him for the bond. But she couldn't ignore the place that Angel had in her heart. For years she dreamed of that night in the Magic Shop when Angel confessed his feelings. He had Buffy. Beautiful, strong, courageous Buffy. He could have had anyone. And he chose her. It was something her lonely heart did not take lightly. She had learned to come to terms with her lust for him, but after fifteen years she thought his feelings might have faded. After all, he made no move to contact her once the Hellmouth was under control again.

She was completely unprepared for the magnitude of his desire, for the way his eyes devoured her very soul. Exhaustion overcame her, and she let her eyes slip shut. Just to get away for a little while, forget about her worries in a sleepy oblivion. So when the nightmare reared its ugly head, she didn't have a chance.


(Fifteen years ago)


There were vampires everywhere. Buffy was shouting, telling them not to split up. A clammy hand touched her shoulder but immediately pulled away with a hiss of burnt flesh. The vamp stared at her in confusion and she took the opportunity to let loose a stake from her crossbow. As he vanished before her eyes, she thought what a good idea it had been to bathe in holy water the night before. Willow had even gone so far as to drink a gallon of the stuff. As long as none of them touched Angel, it was okay. Everyone seemed to be running around her, shouting, there was so much blood. In the real past Willow knew that she had fought alongside her friends just as vigorously, but here in the dreamscape of nightmares she stood by and watched her friends die.

Giles was the first to go down. A large vamp with a club came up behind him and took out his knees. He fell face first to the ground after repeated blows to the back. He was grasping for his crossbow, inches away, when another vampire set his boot down on reaching fingers. Giles cried out and tried to roll away when he was met in the gut with another swift kick. A slimy looking demon pushed the others away and sat on Giles' back. With undisguised glee he wrenched the Watcher's arm back until the joint dislocated with a sickening pop. Giles' screams covered up the sound of the other arm as it was broken. Some of the previous vamps joined in, and they methodically broke every bone they could think of. Giles' cries abruptly ceased as he passed out from the pain, and without the sound of agony, the monsters soon grew tired of their game. The demon hauled the Watcher to his feet and twisted his neck, letting him fall in a tangled, boneless heap.

Buffy was fighting a demon that brandished a sword as long as she was tall. She was holding her own, getting in quick jabs with her own sword and avoiding, rather than meeting his powerful swings. Anya suddenly ran up behind and plunged a dagger into the demon's back. With a roar he threw back his arm and knocked the girl to the ground. At the same time, Buffy was jumped by three vampires and she was too busy dispatching them to notice Anya. The ex-demon scrambled backwards on her butt, trying to get enough distance between them so that she could get up and run. The demon was just too fast. She turned and was about to dash away when his sword caught her, slicing clean through her middle. Her disembodied legs remained standing for a moment, and then toppled to the ground. With horror, Willow realized that the rest of Anya was still alive. Her jaw was working soundlessly, opening and closing like a fish while blood leaked out between her lips.

"Anya!" Xander screamed, running to her side. He put his own bloodied hand to the side of her face and began to weep. "Anya, no!" Then the demon pounced on him as well, skewering Xander with his heavy sword. It was embedded so deeply in the earth that he decided to leave it, and lumbered off to find other quarry. Xander gripped the hilt of the sword as if he could pull it out himself, but only succeeded in aggravating the wound. He grabbed the supersoaker full of holy water that was strapped to his thigh and began spraying approaching vamps. Enraged, the finally knocked it from his hands and began a danse macabre over his helpless figure. Where skin could not touch skin, feet worked just as well, and they slowly crushed him under their triumphant jumping. Just before a boot descended toward his head, he turned his face to look at Willow with bloody eyes. And then he was no more.

Buffy methodically dusted vamp after vamp. Their numbers seemed endless, but she fought on, never tiring. When one died, another would step forward from the surrounding circle to take its place. As if on some unspoken cue, they all lunged, fifty, a hundred vampires. Her tiny body was subsumed under their mass as they ripped her limb from limb, uncaring of the holy water burns so long as they got a shot at the Slayer. They could have done it at any time. They were only playing with her.

And now they were coming for Willow, cold hands grabbing at her. She didn't want to die. Not like this. She tried to run, but they were holding her. She started to scream.




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