BtVS songfic: Spring
Title: Spring
Author: SCWLC
Disclaimer: Oh I wish.
Distribution: Whoever wants may have, just please tell me where it’s going.
Spoilers: Some for this season, don’t ask me episode titles ‘cause I don’t remember them.
Summary: The way I think the final battles should go. Also, I started writing this before the booting of Buffy from her own home earlier this week. B/A naturally.
Notes: Songfic. I’ve been working on this for a while, but Jasmine and Spike plotlines respectively gave me a way to finish this. The song is off of Rita and Mary Rankin’s album “Lantern Burn” and is titled “Darkest Winter”. I feel I ought to thank everybody who’s reviewed me at either the Babble Board or ff.net because I am a bad person and never respond to them. So thank you all.
Notes2: No, no sequel. Absolutely not.
Feedback: Still goes to scwlc@yahoo.ca
//On a long dark loch, on a useless moor
Before the wintertide
We watched the circle 'round the moon
And the storm clouds gather 'round//
Many times they had watched their worlds crumble around them, both together and apart. His had collapsed when his soul had returned to his long dead body, hers when she was called to be the slayer. Those, however, had been the times when there was no warning. The storm had come from nowhere and had vanished as quickly leaving despair in its wake.
It was later, Buffy's first death, the arrival of the Judge, that they could see the warnings in the air. They had watched the storms gather their strength and could do nothing. Each time all the fury of it came bearing down upon their heads, and each time they could do nothing but wait out the terror.
//So I turned to you, but you were gone
So I turned for home alone//
The hardest part was that they waited alone. Every storm pulled them apart, not to be reunited until its whim. It was only when the hurricane had passed that they could return to each other. Only when the last winds had spent themselves did the paths to each other come clear. They were each other's home. Passing over the horrors inflicted on them by time, vampire and slayer would reunite again and again.
Bitter denials and denunciations echoed from the mouths of their friends causing pain to both. Still the two clung to a truth greater than the sum of their individual parts.
//Over last year's rotting corn I walked
Where the harvest winds have blown.//
Such a bitter sowing and reaping it had been. She had turned to Parker, then Riley, later to Spike in a desperate craving for one with whom her heart might bloom again as it had with him. So he had turned to Kate, Darla and Cordelia needing the light and anchor that she provided. Both sought for a part that was missing and never found but for brief moments. When the gulf between them vanished the two halves, torn apart, were reunited.
They hid the pain and terror, even from themselves. The storms that could come to tear them apart in so many ways were not merely contained in forces outside their touch but within their friends as well. Some were mere subtle breezes that gently tugged the attention away, distracting carefully with little knowledge of the damage they did.
Small damages, eroding away the great joys and sorrows of both until there would be nothing left. The whispered suggestion that she could not love Angel as she did Riley, that Cordelia held more promise than Buffy, soft words that carried away a whisper of the true soul and carried in a falsity to replace it.
Others were violent gusts brought forth to wreak havoc. Little realising that hurt to one was hurt to both, these sought to destroy the truth burning in the two. The hurt that, once begun, could not be halted. It could not be halted, even by those that had instigated the fury to start. Subtle sometimes, as nickname causing both to flinch, others were more furious and rending as a bitter denunciation of one, spoken to the other. Bitter only as the jealousy of a man or woman scorned could be. Such affection was held for those whisperers of horror that the whispers went unrecognised for what they were.
Willow and Giles, Cordelia and Fred, Xander and Lorne. The greatest irony being that those who saw most clearly were those who were not named 'friend'.
//The blinding lights have turned away
Shadows from your door
And my worn heart is young today
This darkest winter gone//
Still their union staved off the ever-present despair that threatened them both. Faced with Darla, Angel could not help but admit that sire and he did not share the same bond they once had. What had once been fire and passion was now a desperate bid for freedom. A freedom she could not, could never, provide. The Slayer reached out to fall into the hands of darkness, but this new vampire, light where the other was dark, dark where the first was light could only remind her of the light she so craved. When the reminder came to both the path became clear again and the quiet joy of this silent renewal spurred both on.
//When the darkness winds on an eerie wind
In an hour before the dawn//
There had been times when the light was nearly extinguished between them. Times both warriors could remember well. His soul, lost for months, as a creature wearing his face tormented her, drove her to the verge of madness and distracted her with grief and pain. A single moment, two words that shattered his world, two more that destroyed it beyond repair. "It's Buffy. She's dead."
//We scanned this wasted land a light
Passing void and without form//
Just as she had felt the world fall away to nothing when the loss of his soul had struck her, and again as he reached for her in confusion and pain as his form was enveloped by the whirlwinds spawned by a dimension of utter torment he felt everything vanish.
//So I turned to you, and you were gone
So I stood and watched alone
With a doubting bounce of first light formed
That shades across the soul//
There had been a sort of irony to the rising sun for them. It heralded another day of separation for the two. Stepping out into the June sunlight that terrible morning all Buffy could see was the sick light of the portal as it had engulfed her soulmate. Those first streaks of light as they turned into a whirling gateway that doomed the man she loved more than life to centuries of torment. Angel had stood in the mansion after visiting Buffy's grave, had stared out into the sunlight, such an innocuous looking view, and had wished to step into the light that had barred him from her repeatedly, and even then drove him from his place by her grave. To let the light take him to be with her and unite them as it had divided them so often in the past.
Some small Catholic part of his mind had reminded him of mortal sin and the denial of Heaven to those who commit suicide. So he did not take that step. Those first rays of light, giving hope to so many were the despair of this pair, born into darkness by nature and fate.
//The blinding lights have turned away
Shadows from your door
And my worn heart is young today
This darkest winter gone//
So much suffering for what had often seemed so little followed them. It wore both down as surely as those little whispers of doubt pressed against the conjured defences their love. Time and pain had taken their due, pushing the limits of endurance for both slayer and vampire.
But now they were free of all restraints. The doubters had been silenced, the demons vanquished and the endless seasons of struggle were ending. The normal lives both had abandoned of necessity could now resume and the air sang with the joy the two felt as they waited side by side. They were not watching for the dawn, that could wait. There was another light they watched for.
//So I turned my collar to the wind.
And I asked myself in vain
Did I walk out here with you today
Or did I come alone?//
Over those years of separation and torment it had often seemed as though they were alone. Sometimes alone together, two facing the world that aligned against them. Together they had faced both friends and enemies, the jealousy and hatred of Xander and Giles, Spike and Drusilla, and their own warring natures. Harder to bear had been those times when both were truly alone. Facing each other across a room with the shades of Faith and what she had done to and for both between them, neither had ever felt more alone.
Not even a thousand memories and the knowledge of complete loss compared because even when Angel was in Hell and Buffy was dead there was not this complete opposition of purpose and feeling. The pain did not stem from a separation of the physical or even spiritual, but one of perspective. For the first time they were in opposition to one another with no broken curses and no excuses, both emotionally invested in the success of their separate missions. Death and loss were a different agony. She left, never to return, even as he had.
Physical distance was a gap that could be bridged if necessary, death was not. And yet it had been. The reunion after these separations all the more sweet because both had known that they would be pulled apart again. But it was enough. It was enough for Buffy to remember and reach out to someone, even if it was only the offspring of her soulmate. The joy, tempered with sadness, gave Angel the strength to continue with his cause. So they waited for the world to turn and bring them together again.
They were brought together again after the final battles. There were unbelievable losses to both Warrior and Slayer. Friendships were broken and twisted during the battles as necessity took second place to kindness. Buffy had stood in the kitchen of her house and listened to her watcher, her employer and her two best friends as they harangued her.
“How could you let him walk away after what he did?”
“He could go insane again and kill us all!”
“Buffy, you have to think of the big picture.”
“Why don’t you think of someone besides yourself for once?”
Buffy’s head snapped up and she glared at them. There was nothing human in her eyes and it silenced the others. “I am not thinking of myself. Spike clearly overcame the First’s trigger and he had every right to be angry about being set up. He is the strongest fighter we have besides me-“
Wood cut her off. “He said he would kill me if I ever tried anything again!” he said for the tenth time.
Buffy looked at him evenly. “I once told Travers that if I saw him in town again I would kill him. I told Giles, Willow, Xander and Anya that if any of them tried to kill Dawn when we went up against Glory I would kill them. I tried to kill Faith to save Angel’s life and I would do it again in the same circumstances.” She didn’t raise her voice or alter her gaze as she continued. “I was upset then and Spike was when you tried to make it okay for you to kill him. He has a soul-“
She was interrupted this time by Willow. “We don’t know if it’ll keep him from going bad again though,” she said. “And, I mean, if the First does get to him he could be really dangerous.”
A blonde eyebrow was raised and the Slayer turned to her redheaded friend. “Well. Since the First could probably ‘get’ to any of us here and make people do all kinds of things from the inside where the most havoc could be done I guess we should all kill ourselves to avoid the risk."
“Now that’s not fair!” Xander shouted. “Spike is evil and he’d turn on us just ‘cause it’d be fun for him!”
Anger began to spark in Buffy’s eyes even as she stayed calm. Nothing would be achieved if she didn’t remain reasonable. It would only give them more proof she was fully as incapable as they thought. “Spike, if nothing else, has a sense of self-preservation. He knows that if the world turns to hell he’s gonna be about as low on the food chain as humans. If his soul doesn’t keep him in line, that will.”
“Didn’t stop Angel,” snorted Xander.
Buffy eyed him and the others sourly. Angel had nothing to do with this. “Angel never did a damned thing wrong to anyone here while he had his soul.”
“I thought you’d gotten past those ridiculous mawkish emotions by now,” snarled Giles. “Angel fed off of you and you say he did nothing?”
“I. Forced. Him.” Only Robin Wood and Anya looked nervous. Xander, Willow and Giles stood, confident in their immunity from penalty. “He got up, even though he could barely move, and ran away when I tried to get him to drink. I had to hit him . . .” Her voice cracked as she remembered how hard it was to strike her lover when he was so ill. She cleared her throat. “I had to hit him. Again and again and again. I had to force him to vamp out and then I had to force his mouth onto my neck. Even then he tried to keep from biting me.” Buffy’s fury was a palpable force. “Do not tell me that he took something I was unwilling to give.”
“You’re just transferring your feelings for Angel onto Spike,” Willow said. “Both of you. Now I think that we need to remember that even though there’re a lot of similarities they’re different people. After all, Angel was able to do the right thing and leave Buffy and Spike just doesn’t get that.”
Buffy glared. “You know what? I have had it. For years you guys haven’t trusted me. Every time I made a mistake you all made certain to let me know how I had failed everyone. Every time I told you something was wrong you ignored me and patted me on the head saying that I was trying too hard and when I missed something that I was slacking off. You never trusted my judgement and you never trusted me!” Stunned silence met the accusation and Buffy went on. “I don’t know whether we’re going to come out of this alive and we can’t win no matter what lines I’ve been feeding the Potentials. I sure as hell can’t do this if you guys wander around second guessing every move I make. I am sick to death of you all deciding that I’m too stupid or something to lead. If you think you can do better fine! I’ll hand the reins over. But from now on you are damn well going to treat me as the Slayer. If you can’t be my friends enough to realise I’m not a goddamn machine then I want you to at least treat me as a professional and not a ditzy hobbyist!”
In the silence that followed a budding romance died, friendships were severed and a young woman lost the only parent she had left.
*****************
In LA another scene played out between the vampire and his friends. Cordelia had seemingly recovered from the demon god spawn she had given birth to, but Angel wondered whether it might not have had a lasting effect on her psyche. “Angel, I just think that you ought to realise that I simply can’t love you.” Angel had come to that particular realisation weeks before and controlled his temper as she continued. “I know you have feelings for me I could never love a vampire.”
“Cordelia,” he began. He was about to gently dissuade her of the notion that she was the only attractive woman on the planet but she interrupted him.
“You’re just going to have to accept that.” She smiled at him beneficently and Angel shuddered as she reminded him sharply of Jasmine and her kind, simple evil. He waited to be certain she was finished and tried again.
“Cordy-“
She decided to not let him speak again. “I do love you, just not in a romantic way. I think I may never feel that way about anyone again.” Angel watched in disbelief as she smiled and spread her hands a little. “I feel so much love for . . . everything, I could never contain any of it for one person.”
Years of abstention from certain aspects of his personality, combined with those moments of total freedom he had enjoyed while soulless made Angel say something he knew he would regret. “I see. You feel so much love for me, my son, and just about any other guy you come across you have to spread that love everywhere. Or is it just those slender thighs?” he asked with a smirk.
Cordelia blanched, Connor leapt to his feet to defend the honour of the woman he loved, Fred gasped in utter shock, (making Angel wonder if she was going to fall to the floor in a swoon a la southern belle) and Gunn’s eyebrows shot into his nonexistent hairline. Wesley made a choking noise that briefly brought everyone’s eyes to him. Angel noted the man was valiantly trying not to laugh. Lorne merely looked intrigued. Angel opened his mouth to apologise then decided not to. It didn’t matter whether it was wrong of him to have said it, but he was damned if he was going to take it back.
“You bastard!” Connor shouted. “I can’t believe you’re my father!” He hurried to Cordelia’s side to hold her as she began to tear up.
Angel snorted. “Oh. You mean the woman who told me that she loved me then slept with you not two hours later under the pretext of . . . What?” He waited for a reply.
Fred finally pulled herself together enough to say, “Angel, you don’t mean that. Cordy’s a champion like you and-“
Wesley pushed himself away from the counter he had been leaning on and cut Fred off. “Fred. I know you’ve done a lot of research on many occult subjects. I’m not saying this to disparage your opinion but it is exceedingly rare to come across a true seer who is also a champion. More to the point, simply because Angel has taught Cordelia to defend herself in battle does not make her one.” Then he smirked. “And I’ve never seen Cordelia demonstrate the kind of self-sacrifice required by those who have been chose by the Powers.”
Cordelia let out an indignant squawk. “What the hell do you mean? When Skip demonized me-“
“Uh . . . He was evil. Remember sweet cheeks?” Lorne put in.
She frowned. “So?”
“So that means odds are that he was playing you with the whole you’re giving up stardom deal.”
Connor stood and faced Angel. “She’s given up plenty. What about her acting career?” he demanded. Wesley and Angel locked eyes and began to vibrate with suppressed laughter. “What about her humanity? She’s not even human anymore. She just a demon.” Connor’s words had Cordelia and Lorne looking offended. “She became a filthy demon like you to be able to tell you about her visions,” he continued. “I think she is like Saint Agnes or-“
The two men began to howl with laughter. “Cordelia?” Angel gasped. “Is like . . .” he trailed off in a helpless fit of laughter.
“A saint?” were the only words Wesley could manage. He leaned against the wall and slowly slid to the floor his face turning red as he succumbed to mirth.
Angel took in a deep breath to calm himself and continued, twitching with the effort of not laughing. “Saint Agnes? She was sent to a house of prostitution and a man who tried to touch her was instantly made blind. You don’t look all that blind Connor, and you did considerably more than try.” He snickered helplessly for another moment, not helped by Wesley’s ongoing hysterics. “Or are you talking about her martyrdom? ‘Cause I’ve gotta tell you, by being made into a demon, Skip probably prevented Cordelia from suffering a martyr’s death.”
“And . . . and . . . the acting,” Wesley gasped from the floor.
Cordelia drew herself up to her full height and glared impartially at the two men. She spoke to Angel. “I know you’re hurt by me rejecting you so I’m just going to ignore this. You’re lashing out-“
He had had enough. “Cordelia, I’m not hurt. I’m damn pissed. I’m sick of you acting as though the whole world revolves around you.” He turned to his son before the brat had a chance to say a word. “As for you, you won’t even give me half a chance to explain myself and you think that you’re in love with Cordelia because she slept with you when she thought the world was about to end.” Angel leaned in close. “I really don’t care any more what your problems are. I am in charge here and what I say goes. If you want to work here you’ll leave your goddamn vendettas at the door. And Cordelia,” he turned to the seer, “I’m really tired of you demanding raises and danger pay that no one else asks for strictly to fund your Neiman Marcus habit. You are no more or less important than anyone else here.”
Angel had laid down the law. His son and seer stayed more out of habit than anything else, but all chance of friendship or reconciliation with them were gone.
*************
So they fought in the final battles, separate, alone but for a small number of dedicated friends.
//And then I saw, a distant sight
A heart, behind the grey//
The battles were done and many were lost and the world turned on, the sacrifices of its greatest warriors unnoticed. There was a place halfway between where they had met once before. A memorable reunion that followed her resurrection, chance meetings when the need for escape or solitude became too great. Both fled there and both felt the relief and joy at seeing the other whole.
“Angel.”
“Buffy.”
What else needed to be said? Those names were oaths and declarations and cries of joy. The horrible feelings of inadequacy and a world that did not care if they lived and prospered or suffered and died faded away to nothing. All those sensations of nothingness left and the love between them blossomed again from the tiny seeds left by the storms of past years.
//Come shining through the darkest skies
Establishing my way.//
They stood, facing each other, too frightened to move. Rejection could wait, anger, hate, enough close friends had been lost that it would be fitting indeed for true love to have died a final death as well. Her gaze was the first to drop. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” he asked.
She looked at him, tears shimmering in her eyes. He wanted to hold her and make them vanish, but he dared not. “I forgot,” she told him.
He didn’t understand. “What did you forget?” She almost wanted to hold the memory close. She wanted to never speak it aloud lest he be angry with her and sully it with the biting pain of his words.
“I felt your heart beat,” she whispered.
//The blinding lights have turned away
Shadows from your door//
He heard it despite the sounds that filled the night. It told him all he needed to know and his fear evaporated. He crossed the distance between them and pulled her close. They stood like that until Buffy pulled away, wanting to look at him. Wanting to reassure herself that he truly loved her. All she could see in his eyes was the flame in his heart that burned only for her, and it warmed her as their lips met in a gentle kiss, the first in too long.
She grew warmer and warmer until suddenly she gasped and pulled away only to lay her head on his chest. “I can feel your heartbeat,” she told him in wonder.
//And my worn heart is young today
This darkest winter gone//
Then they were laughing and crying and a hundred years of torment fell away from both. Buffy shrieked with joy as Angel wildly pulled her into an old Irish reel. She didn’t know the steps but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that for the first time in years she felt as though she had a lifetime ahead of her. Angel acted as though all the years between one fateful night in an alley and this night on a lakeside beach were nothing. He was twenty-six again and nothing would stand between him and his love.
They made love on the beach and found sand in unlikely places for days after. They ran shouting through the twilight created in the aftermath of the final battles as the dust settled. The sun wouldn’t be seen for days and neither cared because they were together at last. Spike and Anya surprised Buffy by following her from Sunnydale and joining those in LA in their agency.
//The blinding lights have turned away
Shadows from your door//
Now they waited side by side for a small light to spark to life. It was not the dawn they waited for, nor the sunlight breaking through the clouds that still hung over the city months later. This light was truly the symbol that the seemingly endless winter of separation was over and their lives could truly begin. Buffy clutched Angel’s hand in the small room and felt joy fill him as it did her when the doctor pointed to the light on the small monitor and said, “There. There’s your baby.”
Sunlight burst through the clouds and through the window, bathing the room in light.
//And my worn heart is young today
This darkest winter gone//
Fin
Back to archive page
Author: SCWLC
Disclaimer: Oh I wish.
Distribution: Whoever wants may have, just please tell me where it’s going.
Spoilers: Some for this season, don’t ask me episode titles ‘cause I don’t remember them.
Summary: The way I think the final battles should go. Also, I started writing this before the booting of Buffy from her own home earlier this week. B/A naturally.
Notes: Songfic. I’ve been working on this for a while, but Jasmine and Spike plotlines respectively gave me a way to finish this. The song is off of Rita and Mary Rankin’s album “Lantern Burn” and is titled “Darkest Winter”. I feel I ought to thank everybody who’s reviewed me at either the Babble Board or ff.net because I am a bad person and never respond to them. So thank you all.
Notes2: No, no sequel. Absolutely not.
Feedback: Still goes to scwlc@yahoo.ca
//On a long dark loch, on a useless moor
Before the wintertide
We watched the circle 'round the moon
And the storm clouds gather 'round//
Many times they had watched their worlds crumble around them, both together and apart. His had collapsed when his soul had returned to his long dead body, hers when she was called to be the slayer. Those, however, had been the times when there was no warning. The storm had come from nowhere and had vanished as quickly leaving despair in its wake.
It was later, Buffy's first death, the arrival of the Judge, that they could see the warnings in the air. They had watched the storms gather their strength and could do nothing. Each time all the fury of it came bearing down upon their heads, and each time they could do nothing but wait out the terror.
//So I turned to you, but you were gone
So I turned for home alone//
The hardest part was that they waited alone. Every storm pulled them apart, not to be reunited until its whim. It was only when the hurricane had passed that they could return to each other. Only when the last winds had spent themselves did the paths to each other come clear. They were each other's home. Passing over the horrors inflicted on them by time, vampire and slayer would reunite again and again.
Bitter denials and denunciations echoed from the mouths of their friends causing pain to both. Still the two clung to a truth greater than the sum of their individual parts.
//Over last year's rotting corn I walked
Where the harvest winds have blown.//
Such a bitter sowing and reaping it had been. She had turned to Parker, then Riley, later to Spike in a desperate craving for one with whom her heart might bloom again as it had with him. So he had turned to Kate, Darla and Cordelia needing the light and anchor that she provided. Both sought for a part that was missing and never found but for brief moments. When the gulf between them vanished the two halves, torn apart, were reunited.
They hid the pain and terror, even from themselves. The storms that could come to tear them apart in so many ways were not merely contained in forces outside their touch but within their friends as well. Some were mere subtle breezes that gently tugged the attention away, distracting carefully with little knowledge of the damage they did.
Small damages, eroding away the great joys and sorrows of both until there would be nothing left. The whispered suggestion that she could not love Angel as she did Riley, that Cordelia held more promise than Buffy, soft words that carried away a whisper of the true soul and carried in a falsity to replace it.
Others were violent gusts brought forth to wreak havoc. Little realising that hurt to one was hurt to both, these sought to destroy the truth burning in the two. The hurt that, once begun, could not be halted. It could not be halted, even by those that had instigated the fury to start. Subtle sometimes, as nickname causing both to flinch, others were more furious and rending as a bitter denunciation of one, spoken to the other. Bitter only as the jealousy of a man or woman scorned could be. Such affection was held for those whisperers of horror that the whispers went unrecognised for what they were.
Willow and Giles, Cordelia and Fred, Xander and Lorne. The greatest irony being that those who saw most clearly were those who were not named 'friend'.
//The blinding lights have turned away
Shadows from your door
And my worn heart is young today
This darkest winter gone//
Still their union staved off the ever-present despair that threatened them both. Faced with Darla, Angel could not help but admit that sire and he did not share the same bond they once had. What had once been fire and passion was now a desperate bid for freedom. A freedom she could not, could never, provide. The Slayer reached out to fall into the hands of darkness, but this new vampire, light where the other was dark, dark where the first was light could only remind her of the light she so craved. When the reminder came to both the path became clear again and the quiet joy of this silent renewal spurred both on.
//When the darkness winds on an eerie wind
In an hour before the dawn//
There had been times when the light was nearly extinguished between them. Times both warriors could remember well. His soul, lost for months, as a creature wearing his face tormented her, drove her to the verge of madness and distracted her with grief and pain. A single moment, two words that shattered his world, two more that destroyed it beyond repair. "It's Buffy. She's dead."
//We scanned this wasted land a light
Passing void and without form//
Just as she had felt the world fall away to nothing when the loss of his soul had struck her, and again as he reached for her in confusion and pain as his form was enveloped by the whirlwinds spawned by a dimension of utter torment he felt everything vanish.
//So I turned to you, and you were gone
So I stood and watched alone
With a doubting bounce of first light formed
That shades across the soul//
There had been a sort of irony to the rising sun for them. It heralded another day of separation for the two. Stepping out into the June sunlight that terrible morning all Buffy could see was the sick light of the portal as it had engulfed her soulmate. Those first streaks of light as they turned into a whirling gateway that doomed the man she loved more than life to centuries of torment. Angel had stood in the mansion after visiting Buffy's grave, had stared out into the sunlight, such an innocuous looking view, and had wished to step into the light that had barred him from her repeatedly, and even then drove him from his place by her grave. To let the light take him to be with her and unite them as it had divided them so often in the past.
Some small Catholic part of his mind had reminded him of mortal sin and the denial of Heaven to those who commit suicide. So he did not take that step. Those first rays of light, giving hope to so many were the despair of this pair, born into darkness by nature and fate.
//The blinding lights have turned away
Shadows from your door
And my worn heart is young today
This darkest winter gone//
So much suffering for what had often seemed so little followed them. It wore both down as surely as those little whispers of doubt pressed against the conjured defences their love. Time and pain had taken their due, pushing the limits of endurance for both slayer and vampire.
But now they were free of all restraints. The doubters had been silenced, the demons vanquished and the endless seasons of struggle were ending. The normal lives both had abandoned of necessity could now resume and the air sang with the joy the two felt as they waited side by side. They were not watching for the dawn, that could wait. There was another light they watched for.
//So I turned my collar to the wind.
And I asked myself in vain
Did I walk out here with you today
Or did I come alone?//
Over those years of separation and torment it had often seemed as though they were alone. Sometimes alone together, two facing the world that aligned against them. Together they had faced both friends and enemies, the jealousy and hatred of Xander and Giles, Spike and Drusilla, and their own warring natures. Harder to bear had been those times when both were truly alone. Facing each other across a room with the shades of Faith and what she had done to and for both between them, neither had ever felt more alone.
Not even a thousand memories and the knowledge of complete loss compared because even when Angel was in Hell and Buffy was dead there was not this complete opposition of purpose and feeling. The pain did not stem from a separation of the physical or even spiritual, but one of perspective. For the first time they were in opposition to one another with no broken curses and no excuses, both emotionally invested in the success of their separate missions. Death and loss were a different agony. She left, never to return, even as he had.
Physical distance was a gap that could be bridged if necessary, death was not. And yet it had been. The reunion after these separations all the more sweet because both had known that they would be pulled apart again. But it was enough. It was enough for Buffy to remember and reach out to someone, even if it was only the offspring of her soulmate. The joy, tempered with sadness, gave Angel the strength to continue with his cause. So they waited for the world to turn and bring them together again.
They were brought together again after the final battles. There were unbelievable losses to both Warrior and Slayer. Friendships were broken and twisted during the battles as necessity took second place to kindness. Buffy had stood in the kitchen of her house and listened to her watcher, her employer and her two best friends as they harangued her.
“How could you let him walk away after what he did?”
“He could go insane again and kill us all!”
“Buffy, you have to think of the big picture.”
“Why don’t you think of someone besides yourself for once?”
Buffy’s head snapped up and she glared at them. There was nothing human in her eyes and it silenced the others. “I am not thinking of myself. Spike clearly overcame the First’s trigger and he had every right to be angry about being set up. He is the strongest fighter we have besides me-“
Wood cut her off. “He said he would kill me if I ever tried anything again!” he said for the tenth time.
Buffy looked at him evenly. “I once told Travers that if I saw him in town again I would kill him. I told Giles, Willow, Xander and Anya that if any of them tried to kill Dawn when we went up against Glory I would kill them. I tried to kill Faith to save Angel’s life and I would do it again in the same circumstances.” She didn’t raise her voice or alter her gaze as she continued. “I was upset then and Spike was when you tried to make it okay for you to kill him. He has a soul-“
She was interrupted this time by Willow. “We don’t know if it’ll keep him from going bad again though,” she said. “And, I mean, if the First does get to him he could be really dangerous.”
A blonde eyebrow was raised and the Slayer turned to her redheaded friend. “Well. Since the First could probably ‘get’ to any of us here and make people do all kinds of things from the inside where the most havoc could be done I guess we should all kill ourselves to avoid the risk."
“Now that’s not fair!” Xander shouted. “Spike is evil and he’d turn on us just ‘cause it’d be fun for him!”
Anger began to spark in Buffy’s eyes even as she stayed calm. Nothing would be achieved if she didn’t remain reasonable. It would only give them more proof she was fully as incapable as they thought. “Spike, if nothing else, has a sense of self-preservation. He knows that if the world turns to hell he’s gonna be about as low on the food chain as humans. If his soul doesn’t keep him in line, that will.”
“Didn’t stop Angel,” snorted Xander.
Buffy eyed him and the others sourly. Angel had nothing to do with this. “Angel never did a damned thing wrong to anyone here while he had his soul.”
“I thought you’d gotten past those ridiculous mawkish emotions by now,” snarled Giles. “Angel fed off of you and you say he did nothing?”
“I. Forced. Him.” Only Robin Wood and Anya looked nervous. Xander, Willow and Giles stood, confident in their immunity from penalty. “He got up, even though he could barely move, and ran away when I tried to get him to drink. I had to hit him . . .” Her voice cracked as she remembered how hard it was to strike her lover when he was so ill. She cleared her throat. “I had to hit him. Again and again and again. I had to force him to vamp out and then I had to force his mouth onto my neck. Even then he tried to keep from biting me.” Buffy’s fury was a palpable force. “Do not tell me that he took something I was unwilling to give.”
“You’re just transferring your feelings for Angel onto Spike,” Willow said. “Both of you. Now I think that we need to remember that even though there’re a lot of similarities they’re different people. After all, Angel was able to do the right thing and leave Buffy and Spike just doesn’t get that.”
Buffy glared. “You know what? I have had it. For years you guys haven’t trusted me. Every time I made a mistake you all made certain to let me know how I had failed everyone. Every time I told you something was wrong you ignored me and patted me on the head saying that I was trying too hard and when I missed something that I was slacking off. You never trusted my judgement and you never trusted me!” Stunned silence met the accusation and Buffy went on. “I don’t know whether we’re going to come out of this alive and we can’t win no matter what lines I’ve been feeding the Potentials. I sure as hell can’t do this if you guys wander around second guessing every move I make. I am sick to death of you all deciding that I’m too stupid or something to lead. If you think you can do better fine! I’ll hand the reins over. But from now on you are damn well going to treat me as the Slayer. If you can’t be my friends enough to realise I’m not a goddamn machine then I want you to at least treat me as a professional and not a ditzy hobbyist!”
In the silence that followed a budding romance died, friendships were severed and a young woman lost the only parent she had left.
*****************
In LA another scene played out between the vampire and his friends. Cordelia had seemingly recovered from the demon god spawn she had given birth to, but Angel wondered whether it might not have had a lasting effect on her psyche. “Angel, I just think that you ought to realise that I simply can’t love you.” Angel had come to that particular realisation weeks before and controlled his temper as she continued. “I know you have feelings for me I could never love a vampire.”
“Cordelia,” he began. He was about to gently dissuade her of the notion that she was the only attractive woman on the planet but she interrupted him.
“You’re just going to have to accept that.” She smiled at him beneficently and Angel shuddered as she reminded him sharply of Jasmine and her kind, simple evil. He waited to be certain she was finished and tried again.
“Cordy-“
She decided to not let him speak again. “I do love you, just not in a romantic way. I think I may never feel that way about anyone again.” Angel watched in disbelief as she smiled and spread her hands a little. “I feel so much love for . . . everything, I could never contain any of it for one person.”
Years of abstention from certain aspects of his personality, combined with those moments of total freedom he had enjoyed while soulless made Angel say something he knew he would regret. “I see. You feel so much love for me, my son, and just about any other guy you come across you have to spread that love everywhere. Or is it just those slender thighs?” he asked with a smirk.
Cordelia blanched, Connor leapt to his feet to defend the honour of the woman he loved, Fred gasped in utter shock, (making Angel wonder if she was going to fall to the floor in a swoon a la southern belle) and Gunn’s eyebrows shot into his nonexistent hairline. Wesley made a choking noise that briefly brought everyone’s eyes to him. Angel noted the man was valiantly trying not to laugh. Lorne merely looked intrigued. Angel opened his mouth to apologise then decided not to. It didn’t matter whether it was wrong of him to have said it, but he was damned if he was going to take it back.
“You bastard!” Connor shouted. “I can’t believe you’re my father!” He hurried to Cordelia’s side to hold her as she began to tear up.
Angel snorted. “Oh. You mean the woman who told me that she loved me then slept with you not two hours later under the pretext of . . . What?” He waited for a reply.
Fred finally pulled herself together enough to say, “Angel, you don’t mean that. Cordy’s a champion like you and-“
Wesley pushed himself away from the counter he had been leaning on and cut Fred off. “Fred. I know you’ve done a lot of research on many occult subjects. I’m not saying this to disparage your opinion but it is exceedingly rare to come across a true seer who is also a champion. More to the point, simply because Angel has taught Cordelia to defend herself in battle does not make her one.” Then he smirked. “And I’ve never seen Cordelia demonstrate the kind of self-sacrifice required by those who have been chose by the Powers.”
Cordelia let out an indignant squawk. “What the hell do you mean? When Skip demonized me-“
“Uh . . . He was evil. Remember sweet cheeks?” Lorne put in.
She frowned. “So?”
“So that means odds are that he was playing you with the whole you’re giving up stardom deal.”
Connor stood and faced Angel. “She’s given up plenty. What about her acting career?” he demanded. Wesley and Angel locked eyes and began to vibrate with suppressed laughter. “What about her humanity? She’s not even human anymore. She just a demon.” Connor’s words had Cordelia and Lorne looking offended. “She became a filthy demon like you to be able to tell you about her visions,” he continued. “I think she is like Saint Agnes or-“
The two men began to howl with laughter. “Cordelia?” Angel gasped. “Is like . . .” he trailed off in a helpless fit of laughter.
“A saint?” were the only words Wesley could manage. He leaned against the wall and slowly slid to the floor his face turning red as he succumbed to mirth.
Angel took in a deep breath to calm himself and continued, twitching with the effort of not laughing. “Saint Agnes? She was sent to a house of prostitution and a man who tried to touch her was instantly made blind. You don’t look all that blind Connor, and you did considerably more than try.” He snickered helplessly for another moment, not helped by Wesley’s ongoing hysterics. “Or are you talking about her martyrdom? ‘Cause I’ve gotta tell you, by being made into a demon, Skip probably prevented Cordelia from suffering a martyr’s death.”
“And . . . and . . . the acting,” Wesley gasped from the floor.
Cordelia drew herself up to her full height and glared impartially at the two men. She spoke to Angel. “I know you’re hurt by me rejecting you so I’m just going to ignore this. You’re lashing out-“
He had had enough. “Cordelia, I’m not hurt. I’m damn pissed. I’m sick of you acting as though the whole world revolves around you.” He turned to his son before the brat had a chance to say a word. “As for you, you won’t even give me half a chance to explain myself and you think that you’re in love with Cordelia because she slept with you when she thought the world was about to end.” Angel leaned in close. “I really don’t care any more what your problems are. I am in charge here and what I say goes. If you want to work here you’ll leave your goddamn vendettas at the door. And Cordelia,” he turned to the seer, “I’m really tired of you demanding raises and danger pay that no one else asks for strictly to fund your Neiman Marcus habit. You are no more or less important than anyone else here.”
Angel had laid down the law. His son and seer stayed more out of habit than anything else, but all chance of friendship or reconciliation with them were gone.
*************
So they fought in the final battles, separate, alone but for a small number of dedicated friends.
//And then I saw, a distant sight
A heart, behind the grey//
The battles were done and many were lost and the world turned on, the sacrifices of its greatest warriors unnoticed. There was a place halfway between where they had met once before. A memorable reunion that followed her resurrection, chance meetings when the need for escape or solitude became too great. Both fled there and both felt the relief and joy at seeing the other whole.
“Angel.”
“Buffy.”
What else needed to be said? Those names were oaths and declarations and cries of joy. The horrible feelings of inadequacy and a world that did not care if they lived and prospered or suffered and died faded away to nothing. All those sensations of nothingness left and the love between them blossomed again from the tiny seeds left by the storms of past years.
//Come shining through the darkest skies
Establishing my way.//
They stood, facing each other, too frightened to move. Rejection could wait, anger, hate, enough close friends had been lost that it would be fitting indeed for true love to have died a final death as well. Her gaze was the first to drop. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” he asked.
She looked at him, tears shimmering in her eyes. He wanted to hold her and make them vanish, but he dared not. “I forgot,” she told him.
He didn’t understand. “What did you forget?” She almost wanted to hold the memory close. She wanted to never speak it aloud lest he be angry with her and sully it with the biting pain of his words.
“I felt your heart beat,” she whispered.
//The blinding lights have turned away
Shadows from your door//
He heard it despite the sounds that filled the night. It told him all he needed to know and his fear evaporated. He crossed the distance between them and pulled her close. They stood like that until Buffy pulled away, wanting to look at him. Wanting to reassure herself that he truly loved her. All she could see in his eyes was the flame in his heart that burned only for her, and it warmed her as their lips met in a gentle kiss, the first in too long.
She grew warmer and warmer until suddenly she gasped and pulled away only to lay her head on his chest. “I can feel your heartbeat,” she told him in wonder.
//And my worn heart is young today
This darkest winter gone//
Then they were laughing and crying and a hundred years of torment fell away from both. Buffy shrieked with joy as Angel wildly pulled her into an old Irish reel. She didn’t know the steps but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that for the first time in years she felt as though she had a lifetime ahead of her. Angel acted as though all the years between one fateful night in an alley and this night on a lakeside beach were nothing. He was twenty-six again and nothing would stand between him and his love.
They made love on the beach and found sand in unlikely places for days after. They ran shouting through the twilight created in the aftermath of the final battles as the dust settled. The sun wouldn’t be seen for days and neither cared because they were together at last. Spike and Anya surprised Buffy by following her from Sunnydale and joining those in LA in their agency.
//The blinding lights have turned away
Shadows from your door//
Now they waited side by side for a small light to spark to life. It was not the dawn they waited for, nor the sunlight breaking through the clouds that still hung over the city months later. This light was truly the symbol that the seemingly endless winter of separation was over and their lives could truly begin. Buffy clutched Angel’s hand in the small room and felt joy fill him as it did her when the doctor pointed to the light on the small monitor and said, “There. There’s your baby.”
Sunlight burst through the clouds and through the window, bathing the room in light.
//And my worn heart is young today
This darkest winter gone//
Fin
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