Title: The End
Author: Paradox761
Email: Paradox761@mail.com

Website: members.tripod.com/~Paradox761
Disclaimer: Joss and co. own all things Buffy, no copyright infringement is intended. So please don’t sue, I don’t have any money anyway.
Summary: Post “Wrecked”, alt ending for season 6, and the series. B/W/X-friendship, Slight B/X and Ay/X.
Spoilers: “Wrecked”, and most of season 6.
Author’s note: For the purposes of characterization, in this story Spike did not attempt to rape Buffy. I am NOT a Spike fan, and this is NOT a fix-it fic. But I started this story before that happened, and I find it hard to write Spike as a sympathetic character after that scene. So to continue with the story as planned, that scene didn’t happen. Also, this story takes place before the Angel episode “Sleep Tight”. Also, I started this story after “Wrecked”, as I was starting to become unhappy with the way season six was turning out. I must say though, I couldn’t be happier with the way it ended. I could never top “Grave”, nor would I try. So I’ve gone in a different direction with this. But I did paraphrase some lines from Xander’s speech.
Dedication: To Jordan and Jessica, my angels. May they rest in peace.
Special thanks to: Wayne, Rob Clark, Ghostrider, Ozmandayus, Maggie C., Furious George, Bill, Calen, Chorlton, John, Wicked Raygun, DaBear, Cobra, Jeconais, Nathan Postmark, David, Drake Roberts, Angelus, Queen Boadicea, Scott, Malaskor, and The Crowe for the feedback and the encouragement with this story. I really appreciate it.

(12/12)

The mansion was dark, pitch black.  Not even a sliver of moonlight slipped through the boarded up windows.  And there was no sound, except for the faint ticking some old abandoned clock.  Until suddenly the front door was kicked in and two figures entered with flashlights and guns drawn.  They scanned the room thoroughly, shining their lights on every surface.  The place looked a little more lived in then they had expected, but other than that nothing looked out of the ordinary.  Until their lights fell on something very unusual in the middle of the room.

“What did that anonymous caller say exactly?” One of them asked the other.

“Just that we’d find something very interesting here,” the other answered.

“This is weird, Sarge.”

The other one just laughed.  “Weird is par for the course when you’re the Sunnydale PD,” he said.  “Wilson!  Barnaby!” the Sergeant called out.  Two more cops entered from outside.  “You guys check upstairs.”  The two nodded and jogged up the stairs with their flashlights and guns.

The Sergeant holstered his gun and approached the middle of the room.  “Cover me, just in case,” he told his partner.

The younger man nodded and followed his partner.  Sitting in the middle of the room were three people, their hands and feet tied, and another rope tying them all together.  Their heads were slumped forward, and each one wore a mask.  One Darth Vader, one Darth Maul, the other a Storm Trooper.  And taped to the chest of the one facing the door, was a piece of paper.  The cop pulled the paper off and shined his light on it.

“Dear Police, these three men are the Star Wars bandits who have robbed six banks in LA in the last two months.  In the basement you’ll find all the evidence you need.  Signed, The Scooby Gang.”  The older cop just shook his head.  “Cute, real cute.”  He leaned down and pulled the Darth Maul mask off to reveal a young dark-haired man with duct tape over his mouth.  He put his fingers against the base of his neck.  “He’s alive, just unconscious.  Check the other two.”

The younger cop holstered his weapon and checked on the other two.  “Same here, they’re out cold.”

“Hey Sarge, we got a body up here,” One of the other cops called from the second floor.

“And two more on the third floor,” the other one called out, coming down another set of stairs.

The Sergeant just shook his head and turned to his partner.  “I hate weeks that start like this.  Call it in.”

*

“And now the news.  The famed Star Wars bandits that have been terrorizing Los Angeles area banks for the last few months, have been captured.  Warren Meers, age 21, Jonathan Levinson, age 20, and Andrew Wells, also age 20.  Police say they were found bound and gagged in an abandoned building in the small suburb of Sunnydale, along with a note identifying them as the robbers.  Police have confirmed that the three men are indeed the culprits, but the identity of whoever captured them or left the note is still unknown.

Also found in the building were the bodies of three individuals.  One man has been identified as Christopher Rak, a local drug dealer.  The identities of the other two bodies have not been released yet, nor the cause of death.  Though the police suspect foul play.  No word as to whether or not the Star Wars bandits have been implicated in the deaths, police are still questioning…”

Angel reached over from the passenger seat of his car and clicked the radio off.  The car was parked on the small roadway that wove it’s way through Peaceful Acres Cemetery, on a hill that over looked the graves of Xander Harris and Willow Rosenberg.  Wesley sat in the driver’s seat, and Gunn sat in the back with the still-bound Amy.  Angel adjusted the blanket over his head as he turned again to look at the window.  Buffy was standing between the two graves, wearing a simple black dress.  She had a distant look on her face.  Anya was kneeling in front of Xander’s grave, adjusting the flowers that rested by his headstone.  Tara stood off to the side, her arm around Dawn, comforting her.

“I still can’t believe he did it,” Gunn said in a quiet voice.

“He did what he had to do, to safeguard those he loved,” Wesley said, in an equally hushed voice.

“Does that include Willow?” Amy asked in a snotty voice.

Wesley turned to her.  “Especially Willow.”

Angel wasn’t listening to the conversation around him though, his eyes stayed focused on Buffy.  On the pained look on her face.

“There’s nothing more we can do here, Angel,” Wesley said.

Angel continued looking for a few more seconds before he nodded his head.  He had a sudden urge to hold his son, and tell him that he loved him.  Even though he knew the infant wouldn’t understand.  “Let’s go.”

Wesley started the engine, and the black convertible pulled away, unnoticed by the mourners below them.

Anya lifted the thin black veil she wore away from her face and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.  She reached out and ran her fingers across Xander’s name etched on the gravestone.  It was a simple stone, with his name, the year of his birth and death, a cross, and a one-word epitaph.  ‘Beloved’.  Willow’s stone was virtually identical, except her epitaph read ‘Forgiven’, and a Star of David replaced the cross.

The dual service had ended hours ago, with the mourners going back to the Rosenbergs’ house for a small reception.  But the group of friends had stayed behind to pay their final respects.

Unseen by any of them, standing on a hill overlooking the graves were a man and a woman holding hands.

“Where are we?” the woman asked.  “This isn’t hell, and it certainly isn’t heaven.”

“Purgatory,” the man speculated.  “I’m not sure.”

They watched as all the mourners except for one slowly walked back up the path toward their car.  Buffy stayed, standing between the gravestones.  Slowly she walked closer to them, and dropped to her knees.  Suddenly the man the and woman found themselves no longer on the hill, but standing behind Buffy, in front of their graves.

Buffy just sat there for a few moments, looking like she was trying to find the right words.  “There’s just so much left unsaid,” she finally said.  “So much I wanted to tell you both.  Xander, I…I’m sorry for the way I treated you.  I’m sorry that I didn’t see how important you were to me until it was too late.  I’m sorry that I didn’t go to you when I needed help, instead of pushing you away.  I want you to know that I’m going to be a better parent to Dawn.  I’m going to be there for her, no matter what.  Because she needs me, now more than ever.  I see that now.  I just…I wish I could have seen you sooner.  We could have made each other so happy.  And I wish that I had gotten the chance to tell you all of this to your face.”

Buffy wiped her eyes and turned to the other stone.  “Willow, I…” she paused.  “I can’t say how sorry I am, for what happened to you.  For not seeing what was happening to you sooner.  For not being there when you needed me.  For not being able to save you.  I forgive you Willow.  And I hope that you can forgive me.”

Buffy laid her hand flat against Willow’s gravestone, and the other hand against Xander’s.  “I can’t do this without you guys,” she said, her tears coming again.  “I already miss you both so much.  I…I don’t think I can do this.”  Buffy’s head fell and she started sobbing.

“I think I know why we’re here,” Xander said softly.  Willow just nodded.  Together they stepped forward, still holding each other’s hand.  They each placed their other hand on Buffy’s shoulders.

“I love you both,” Buffy sobbed.

“We love you, too,” Willow and Xander said simultaneously.

Buffy wasn’t consciously aware of their touch, or their words.  But somewhere deep inside, she could feel them.  And she knew that she would go on.  Because they would always be with her, in her heart.

The End