Setting: The end of GD2
Rating: Hard R dwindling to PG.
Synopsis: The Gang tries to recover from the strains of
fighting the mayor and blowing up the school. Buffy tries
to heal with the aid of her mother and of Giles, Willow and
Oz try the traditional method of putting bad memories to
rest, and Xander and Cordelia decide to escape the
Hellmouth and their parents. Meanwhile, a town adjusts to
its losses.
Spoilers: Through season 3.
Note: One of my favorite fanfic series is the Epilogues
series by Gail Christison. I'd include a link to her web
site, but it keeps changing. I was originally going to make
this story compatible with "No Sad Songs...",
her GD2 epilogue. I decided against that, and I hope this
story isn't too close.
Relationships: W/O, C/X, Jo/G/B friendship. I made some
very debatable assumptions about Cordelia.
Status: I tried very hard to keep this canonical. Nothing
is contradicted by S4-5 episodes. Perhaps the people of
Sunnydale wouldn't react just this way, but they might
have. No spear-carriers were harmed in the writing of this
story. In fact, there's hardly anything supernatural or
violent in it at all.
Disclaimer: "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and its
characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Kuzui Films,
Fox Television, the Warner Brothers network, and Sandollar
Entertainment. No infringement is intended.
Copyright 2001 by Eric Jablow. All Rights Reserved.
However, feel free to archive, print, or mail this provided
it be kept intact.
---
Saturday Night
"Don't they know how bad we are?"
The Slayer and her Slayerettes walked down the street; none
gave the rubble that had been Sunnydale High School a
backwards glance.
"That's the problem with vamps, Willow. They never
learn," said Xander.
"And there are just so many of them. They keep coming
back," said Buffy. She then sighed.
"Hey, we won," said Cordelia. "Do you have to
worry about tomorrow? I mean, we just blew up Superdemon,
and made vampire flambe out of his friends. Do you
really think any vamps will be coming back for a
rematch?"
"I guess you're right." Buffy sagged a bit.
Oz waved at Willow; she crossed over to him and he murmured
into her ear, "She's a little drained. Let's get her
home." They shuffled their positions; Willow moved to
Buffy's left and wrapped her arm around Buffy's waist,
while Xander did the same at Buffy's right. Oz and Cordelia
joined them.
"Wonder of wonders; I'm not even jealous,"
thought Cordy.
By common consent, they walked in silence to Buffy's house.
Police cars and ambulances occasionally passed them, shuttling
the wounded and bitten to the hospital. Once, Buffy sobbed.
"Don't blame yourself. He'd have killed everyone. There are a
few hundred of us who got to walk home from school today because
of you. Mrs. Rosenberg is too young to sit shiva. Really."
"Thanks, Xander. But, I should have done better. And it never
ends," said Buffy.
"We'll be here to help. Hey! The whole school knows. It's war,
not just a guerilla action now. It's got to get better," said
Willow.
"Of course, you can't expect help from everyone. I mean, Kyle was
half a vamp already, right Xander?" replied Cordy.
Xander said, "Thanks, Cordy. Remind me of wanting to eat--"
Xander stopped just in time not to finish the sentence with
"Willow"; the resulting double entendre could have led to a
werewolf bite or worse.
"I object to this topic too," said Oz. Willow whispered to him,
"Why? I wouldn't mind." Oz stumbled for a moment, and then
hurried to catch up.
"I heard that," thought Buffy. "I'm glad. Enjoy yourselves."
Buffy looked at her friend and smiled. Willow smiled back.
They continued walking to Buffy's house, each lost in thought.
"We're here," said Willow. "Do you need anything? Do you want us
to stay?"
"Nah. I'm just going to fix a sandwich, take a bath, and go to
bed. Wake me on Labor Day. Besides, Mom probably left ten
messages for me already; I have to explain--"
Buffy's voice drifted into silence. Willow hugged her and kissed
her cheek, and then Xander did the same. Oz stood there quietly,
visibly moved, while Cordelia gave Buffy's shoulder a
squeeze. Buffy unlocked the front door, turned to them, and said,
"Thanks, guys. I couldn't have survived this without you." She
turned again, entered her house, and closed the door.
Cordy turned and kicked at a pebble; it bounced off a streetlight
and disappeared into the night. "Damn," she said.
"Cor?"
"OK, Xander. I don't worship her, but she deserves better than
this. Damn."
"Should we stay with her?" asked Willow.
"Will, I think we'd just distract her."
"Oz, but she needs to be distracted."
"She needs to deal, and sooner rather than later."
"Yeah, Cordy, Will; she'll be okay. She's been to hell,
remember?"
"Right. Duh. What now? The Bronze?" said Cordy.
"I really don't feel like partying," said
Xander.
"We really need to check in with our parents," said
Willow. Willow and Oz had turned to each other in an exhausted
embrace.
"Shall we walk you home?" said Cordelia.
"No thanks. We'll be fine," said Willow. "And you?"
"We'll survive," said Xander. "After all, we did so far. Who'd
have thunk it. Go. Deal with Mom."
Willow crossed to Xander, hugged him, and then patted Cordelia on
the shoulder. "Good people." Willow and Oz left.
Xander and Cordelia walked over to the local playground and sat
on neighboring swings.
"What are you going to do now?" asked Xander.
"I don't know. There's nothing for me here. No house. No
home. No family. No college. Precious little money." Cordy looked
grim. "No real talents, unless sarcasm counts."
"You have talents. You're brave, and you've turned into a good
friend. Despite the sarcasm."
"It doesn't show, does it?" They laughed. "Really. Thanks for
not giving me away. It's not as though I haven't embarrassed you
enough."
"I really hurt you before. It's not as though I didn't deserve
it. Besides, if we can't forgive each other, we'll fall
apart. And we have enemies!"
"Yeah. What about you?"
"I don't know. I'm not a college kind of guy. I want to see the
part of the world that isn't Sunnydale this summer. I want to be
able to walk outside at night without worrying whether the next
guy I see has a reflection or not. But I don't have much to come
back to either; Dad's a drunk, Mom's a lump, and I'm a Zeppo. If
it weren't for the gang, I'd have nothing."
"I'm sorry: I should never had said that. It's not true. And look
at me; I don't have a place here. I guess I'll go to LA, and try
to get an acting job. I mean, I do have a pretty face, as long as
worms don't get into my hair.
"Look, I really need to get away for a few days. Do you want to
take a road trip? I still have Uncle's car."
"Not much money, though, for either of us."
"Ah well, that's what sleeping bags and tents are for. We'll camp
out."
"And, when did you think of inviting me?"
"Just now. But, there's no one I'd rather go with."
"How romantic. Are you sure? We might kill each other still."
"After tonight? You killing me is the least of my worries. Demon
snakes, yes. You, no."
---
"Let's get our stuff."
"Where first?" asked Oz.
"Your van, then your place, then mine. We can call my Mom from
yours." Willow yawned. "I'm so tired; I want to go home, have
some cocoa, and go to bed. But."
"But what?"
"When I wake up, I want you there by my side."
Oz hugged Willow as they walked. "Won't your Mom freak?"
"Hey--she tried to burn me at the stake. She deserves to get
freaked out, don't you think?"
"My parents wouldn't freak--you'd be more comfortable."
"I want my room, my bath, and my bed."
"Marking your territory?"
"Yes."
"Gladness."
"Goodness."
"And I won't bite."
"But?"
"Certainly. Love ya."
---
"Beep-beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep-beep." Buffy hit the play
button on the answering machine.
10am: "Hi! It's Mom. You're out early today. Well, I'm in San
Francisco; I'm going to do all the touristy stuff, ride the cable
cars, dine on Fisherman's Wharf, shop, I don't know what
else. You have my cell phone number; call when you can."
4pm: "Hi! It's Mom. I guess you've been busy. Congratulations; I
wish you'd have let me be there. I'll call you in a couple of
hours."
7pm: "Not home yet? Please call, please."
9pm: "My God! CNN says that your high school blew up! Eight
students and two teachers dead, twenty wounded, and the principal
and mayor missing. I'm on my way back. Dear God, I hope you're
safe!"
Buffy dove for the phone and hit Mom's speed dial button.
Thoughts of Mom taking a turn too fast and slamming into a
roadside ditch entered her mind. "Ring!" "Pick up, Mom!" "Ring!"
"Please be there, Mom!" "Rin--Joyce Summers!" "Mom!" "Buffy!"
Buffy heard a clattering noise and the squeal of breaks for a
moment, and then Mom's voice came back.
"Buffy, are you all right?"
"Yes. No. It's been a horrible day."
"Buff, the explosion, was that a gas leak the way the news said."
"No, Mom."
"Slayer stuff? I should have known. I should have been there for
you."
"No! Had you been there, we'd both be dead. I couldn't take care
of you and do what I needed to do."
"And, what did you need to do, young lady?"
Buffy started to cry. "Later, Mom, please?"
"I'm sorry. Did your friends?"
"We're all fine. They were great. They are great. Brave. Needed
them all."
"Oh. And?" Joyce stopped short, but Buffy knew what she had been
about to ask.
"Gone. Okay. Left town. He kept his promise."
"I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, well, I guess it was doomed from the start. The doomed
and the damned."
"Don't say that! You are neither doomed nor damned. And I love
you. Your friends love you. You'll survive this, the way you
always have."
"This is different, though. Most problems I solve with Mister
Pointy. I can't stick a stake in my own heart."
"Oh. Buff, you're safe. That's all that matters. I'll be home in
a few hours. We'll talk in the morning."
"Thanks, Mom. Love ya."
"Love ya too." Joyce hung up.
Buffy went to the kitchen and made a peanut butter sandwich,
returned to the den, and turned on the TV to watch the local news
channel. "I'm glad they got this one wrong," she thought. She sat
on the couch, curled up into a ball. No one stopped by; no one
called. After the announcers repeated the story for the fourth
time, she turned off the TV. Alone with her thoughts, she started
to cry again. Finally, with a sob, she grabbed her handbag and
ran out.
---
"Hi, Mom, Dad."
"Oz. Willow, how nice to see you again. So, what was all that
about?"
"Oz, do they know?" asked Willow in a low voice.
"Tell them. They're grownups. They'll deal," replied
Oz. "Besides, they know about me."
"And us?" said Willow.
"Tell them," said Oz.
"Well, the Mayor decided to go all evil and eat the graduating
class, so we had to stop him. We did," said Willow.
"By blowing up the school?" said Oz's Mom.
"Well, we didn't have much choice, unless we liked dying."
"Well, you're okay." said Oz's Dad. "Dinner?"
Willow and Oz looked at each other. "We're starving."
"Oz, I need to call home," said Willow.
"Go. We'll be in the kitchen," said Oz.
Willow went into the den and called her home; the conversation
with her mother was as banal as ever. "Man, how clueless." She
joined the other three in the kitchen and interrupted a group
hug. Oz was crying like a baby; he could hold everything in just
so much. She turned Oz around and tried to kiss his tears away,
while he sobbed out, "Too much. Too many people." Finally, she
hugged him and kissed his mouth; she was crying too by now. Oz
wasn't ashamed, and she wasn't ashamed either.
Oz's parents watched the two with mixed pride and
exasperation. "They aren't even trying to hide it," murmured Oz's
Mom. "Should they?" Oz and Willow heard the conversation and
broke their kiss. "We won't hide." "Never."
They made some sandwiches and sat at the kitchen table to devour
them. Oz's parents drew from them most of what had happened that
day, though Oz and Willow did not discuss Angel or Faith. After
an hour, Willow told them that they had to get to her house, and
Oz went to his bedroom to pack a bag.
"He's going with you," said Oz's Mom.
"Certainly. We need this."
Oz returned with a gym bag and his guitar.
"Oz, this isn't just a fling, right?" said Oz's Dad.
"No. More."
"And, you have everything you need? You'll be safe?"
"As safe as anyone is in Sunnydale," said Willow.
"No, he means--" interrupted Oz.
"Oh. We know what we're doing. We've thought about it for
months."
"Oh." Oz's parents walked them to Oz's van, and they drove off.
---
Xander and Cordelia walked back to Xander's house. They didn't
say much; both wanted to wait until they could escape Sunnydale
to say anything serious.
"I have my things in the basement. Do you want to wait here?"
"No, I'll come with you."
Xander led her to the side door and down into the dark
room. There was a battered couch with a light blanket and a
stained pillow.
"How often do you sleep down here, Xander?"
"Well, Dad's food of choice is Miller, so, I'd say, three times a
week."
"Sorry."
"Me too. Ah, here they are. My duffel bag, some groceries, my
electric lantern, my tent, my sleeping bag, and--do you have a
sleeping bag at home?"
"No. I'm not the camping type."
"Well, here's a spare. It was Jesse's."
"Hurts much? At least we could bury Kevin."
"He was my best friend for so long. Well, he and--"
"Willow. You don't have to be afraid of saying her name around
me. Let's go; there's nothing for us here."
They carried the bags out and put them into Xander's trunk.
"Hey, Xander; you did well in shop class, I see. Almost no dent
left. Great work."
"Thanks. So, let's say goodbye. I know I'm going to hate this."
"You're probably right. Let's go in."
They walked in; they were right. Mr. Harris sat on the couch,
many empty cans of beer by his side. "So, you finally show
up. You didn't want me at your graduation; you're ashamed of me,
aren't you."
"I'm not even going to try."
"Oh, and it's the rich bitch. Well, you'll never be good enough
for the likes of her, Al-boy." He pointed at her: "You stuck-up
cu--Ow!" Xander grabbed Mr. Harris' outstretched arm and swung
him around into a perfect arm lock. He then forced his father
onto the couch.
"You do not insult my friends. Do you hear me?"
"Ow. Bastard."
"I wish I were, you lousy sot. Do you hear me? Cordy and I are
going away for a few days. We will be back, but if you treat her
like crap again, I won't be staying long. Do you hear me?"
"Ow. I'm sick."
"You aren't listening. You keep hurting my friends, and I won't
come back. Let's go, Cordy."
"You freaking idiot. You don't deserve him. And, do the Betty
Ford thing, or else." Cordy poked Mr. Harris in the side, and
then Mr. Harris groaned. "I'm going to be sick."
Xander and Cordy left, while Mr. Harris stumbled to the bathroom.
"I'm sorry you had to see that."
"Yeah. My mom is like that: pills, not booze. Where's your mom
anyway?"
"My aunt's, probably. Dad can deal with her; I won't. Let's go
to your place."
They drove to the richer area of town and stopped at a nearly
empty house with a "For Sale" sign in front. The two went to the
front door and went in. Cordy walked upstairs to her mother's
room and knocked.
"Cordy, is that you?" Cordy's mom had a quiet reedy voice.
"Yes mom, it's me. I'm going away for a few days."
"You're abandoning me? But, who will take care of me?"
"You'll get by; you always do."
"Kiss?" Cordy moved to her mother's bed and let her mother kiss
her, then she walked out and closed the door behind her.
"How is she?" asked Xander.
"She's zonked out on so many pills that it's a wonder she's still
breathing. Wait down here; I'll pack."
"Don't take too long. I'm getting the creeps."
"Worse than the mayor?"
"Yes."
"Back soon."
Five minutes later she walked downstairs with a large suitcase
and a garment bag.
"What's in there?"
"A surprise. Let's go." They put her things in the trunk and
drove off. On a whim, Xander drove first to the high school;
there were fire trucks and police cars there still, along with
some news trucks and the occasional gawker. Once someone noticed
Xander and called out "Hey, it's Sergeant Slaughter!" Xander and
Cordy grinned. "Hey, G.I. Joe's pretty good."
"You know, some of the worst times in my life happened in there,
and some of the best," said Xander.
"Really. Let's not talk about the worst. But what were the best?"
"Well, most of them involved the broom closet or the boiler
room."
"I bet you say that to all the girls."
"Nah. No one else would look at me, Cordy. Until you."
"Not just me."
"Cordy, I'm sorry. I'd wish it never happened with her, but
that's no good."
"Willow. Say her name."
"Willow. We were too scared; we knew it was wrong. She had Oz,
and I had you. But part of me didn't believe I had you; I was
still the loser you insulted every day. All the time, I never
really believed we could be together. I'm not exactly the most
confident guy, you know. And, for a while she wanted me. She
looked at me as though I were her hero, her savior. Willow, my
oldest, most loyal friend. Of course, I wanted her. I'm ashamed
of what I did to you, but somehow, I'll never stop loving her, or
Jesse, or the Buff. I can't forget them. Am I wrong? They're
more than family. God knows mine's no good."
"I guess not. You know, all the while I was insulting you, I
envied you. You had real friends. I had Harmony and Aura. What
you did was important, while I was the fashion queen."
"You did important things, though, when you gave yourself the
chance. And that's the thing; when we worked with Buffy and Giles
in the library, we had a purpose. We were a team."
"I'll order some Sunnydale Slayers T-shirts." Cordelia's eyes
softened. "Xander Harris, number one-eighth. So, do you want to
be a team again?"
Xander pulled the car to the curb, cut the engine, and said,
"Always." They shifted in their seats and bent their heads to
each other. They kissed gently, and then Xander restarted the
car. They circled the block and then headed out of town.
"Well, one good thing happened."
"Really, Xander? Something good happened today?"
"Well, we got to satisfy every high school student's fondest
fantasy."
"And that is, dork?"
"We got to blow up our school, and in a good cause."
"You're right. It does sound cool that way."
They drove out of town toward the highway leading north.
"Hey, we need some music." Cordy punched up the radio: "This is
KSDL, Sunnydale's Classic Rock station, and by request, we have
an oldie but goodie, one of everyone's favorites. Here's The Boss
and the E-Street Band with Born To Run!" Xander laughed and
turned the volume to the max; by the time Bruce got to "It's a
death trap, it's a suicide rap, we got to get out while we're
young. 'Cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run!", the two
were singing along at the top of their voices. The two sped into
the night.
---
Rupert Giles walked up the path to his apartment. He had gone to
the hospital to check upon Wesley and the wounded students, but
the staff was too busy to give him any information. Finally, the
emergency room nurse told him, "You're not hurt this time, and
we're too busy to chat. Go home!"
He let himself in the front door and turned on the light, and
then he heard a soft voice say, "Giles?"
"Buffy." He turned to the voice and saw Buffy curled up in a ball
on his couch, hugging her knees. "I'm here."
Buffy looked lost for a moment, and then she turned toward Giles
and stared at him.
"Buffy, what's wrong? Can I help?"
"I can't stop thinking, Giles. Talk to me. Distract me, please."
"Wouldn't you do better dancing at the Bronze?"
"Do you think I'm that callous, Giles? We lost too many people
today. 'Buffy Summers, Class Protector,' Ha!"
"It isn't your fault, Buffy."
"They trusted me, and they died for it. And I can't even be sorry
I put them in harm's way because I knew it was necessary."
"Oh, Buffy. Please don't blame yourself."
"But, so many of them died. I called for their help, and they
died giving it to me."
"Do you know why they trusted you?" Buffy was silent. "Because
you always gave fully of yourself. You are worthy of their
trust. And despite our conflicts, you are worthy of mine. I trust
you more than I do myself."
"They could have ran. They could have stayed away."
"They chose not to. It's their town, their school. They have a
right to fight for what they hold dear."
"I sat at home watching the news over and over, and I kept
thinking that I could have found an better way."
"Buffy, we wracked our brains trying to figure another plan. We
couldn't. I still don't see any other way that would have
worked."
"Who's going to get killed next because of me? How many
strangers? How many friends? Willow? Xander? Oz? Cordy? Mom?
You?" Her eyes widened with that last question.
"No one is going to get killed because of you. We will stand by
you, and we shall prevail."
"But they died. We didn't really prevail, Giles. We lost too
much."
"We lost very much, but you weren't the cause of that. Don't you
know that they fought for you because they love and respect you?
The way Willow does, and Xander and Oz, and even Cordelia. And
I."
"Oh, Giles." She started crying, and he enfolded her in his
arms. They sat like that until she calmed and fell asleep, and he
carried her to his bed.
---
"Hi, Mom." Mrs. Rosenberg was ironing some clothes.
"Willow. Oz. You're late."
"We had dinner at Oz's. So, what's happening here?"
"Oh, I typed up about 15 more pages of my new paper. How was the
ceremony, Willow?"
"A blast," said Oz. Willow rolled her eyes at him, and Oz
shrugged back. "Cocoa?" "Fine." Willow set some milk to boil and
stirred it while Oz sat sat by the kitchen table and strummed his
guitar.
"Comfortable, Oz?" Willow said softly.
"No. Little freaked."
"She won't even notice. She never does. Well, almost never."
Mrs. Rosenberg watched them for a moment, and then picked up her
folded clothes and walked upstairs.
"Is she always like this?"
"Yeah. It's pretty convenient, what with following Buff, cracking
computer systems, being in the Demon-of-the-Month club, and
hanging out with my favorite band all filling up my midnights,
but she still gives me the creeps. If she cared, she'd complain."
"Hey, I think you turned out pretty well."
"Thanks." Willow added some cocoa and sugar to the milk, added a
couple of drops of vanilla extract, and stirred for another
minute. She then poured it into a pair of mugs, placed them on a
tray, and led him to her room.
---
"Summers' residence. Please leave a message."
"Mrs. Summers, this is Mr. Giles. Buffy is here at my apartment;
she couldn't sleep, and so she came here to talk. Please come by
however early you get in."
---
Outside the 7-11, Cordelia handed Xander the bag of supplies she
had bought. Xander looked inside.
"Chocolate, good. Six-pack of Coke, better." Xander looked at
her other purchase--ribbed. "Best," he said, while smiling
widely.
"Just staking a claim."
"Works for me."
---
"Oooh," moaned Willow. "Great idea, Xander," she thought. "Oz!"
Willow stopped thinking for a while.
---
Giles had let Buffy use his bed while he took the floor; now
cries and shouts awakened him. He saw Buffy thrashing from side
to side, punching at the air, gasping out words.
"Faith. Stop. Blood. Angel. Knife. Kill."
Giles moved next to Buffy, whispered her name and tried to still
her hands, trying to interrupt her nightmare. Buffy became even
more frantic, jerking her head and kicking out with her legs, and
then she got a hand free and punched Giles in the jaw. Giles fell
back onto the floor; somewhat shaken, he got up. Meanwhile,
Buffy's cries subsided.
Giles pulled himself onto the bed again; now he saw Buffy move
her head to one side and offer her neck to an unseen Angel. She
gasped out, "Drink!" Giles watched helplessly while a look of
terror appeared on Buffy's face. Finally, the nightmare ended,
and Buffy began to breathe normally again.
Giles slipped off the bed and returned to his quilt and pillow;
tears poured down his face, and he cursed Mayor Wilkins for
attempting to purchase immortality at so terrible a cost.
---
"Breathe. She's safe. Breathe. Don't crash the car."
---
Cordelia yawned. "How much further?"
"About two minutes. I remember this place from Cub Scouts. You
okay?"
"Yeah. It's peaceful. I am a little cold, though. Warm me?"
"Love to." Xander pointed out a sign for a county park and
campground. "We'll have to sneak in; I didn't have time to get a
permit, but I think local kids sneak in a lot."
"Try to find someplace private."
"Of course. Ah, this should do. Park here, hop the fence, we're
in."
"You'd think we did this all the time."
"We do. It's the least criminal thing we've done all day."
"Ugh. I'm glad high school didn't have metal detectors."
"Giles would have been screwed then."
"Yeah. Let's go."
They got their things from the trunk, sneaked over the fence, and
walked to a deserted clearing. Xander set up the tent, while
Cordy unrolled the sleeping bags.
"Do these zip together? I've heard of that."
"Don't know. That was Jesse's. We weren't that close."
"Ha. They do. Cool! Hey, you're good at that."
"I feel like a Cub Scout, you know. I always do around you."
"Better not. This wouldn't be any fun."
Xander pulled out an air mattress from his duffel bag and
proceeded to blow it up, while Cordelia put their bags inside the
tent.
"Don't wear yourself out."
"That's your job, right?" Puff. Puff.
"And, don't you forget it." Cordy grabbed a pair of Cokes and
opened one.
"What?" Puff. Puff.
"I like looking at you. Speedos, tux, jeans, whatever."
"Well, remember when you didn't want to look at me?" Puff. Puff.
"Would you just shut up."
"And?"
"Kiss me."
"That I can do." Xander capped the valve on the air mattress and
crossed to her. They kissed. "Let's go inside."
They put the mattress inside, set the sleeping bags on the
mattress, climbed in, and closed the tent flap. Then, they kicked
off their shoes and slipped inside the sleeping bag. They
finished their sodas as their bodies slowly warmed the sleeping
bag.
"I never thought m--our first time would be in a tent."
"Yours."
"You don't sound surprised."
"Nah. I said only that you dressed like a nympho, not that you
were one."
"Thanks."
"Besides, I knew the guys you dated weren't really important to
you. But you were important to you."
"Unlike you. That explains Faith."
"Not a good thing. And the worst part of it was that Angel had to
save me from her. Do you know how humiliating that is?"
"Hey, I'm here with you."
"That's the true Cordelia."
---
"I can do this. Josie8291 told me she likes doing this to her
boyfriend," thought Willow. "If Mom only knew what we discussed
in those chat rooms...."
"You don't have to," interrupted Oz.
"I want to." Willow made her "resolved face," and Oz stopped
talking. Soon he was making only incoherent noises and gasps.
---
Buffy started to dream again, but her motions were weaker; she
was exhausted. Giles felt helpless. "Chosen--for this? Bloody
hell."
---
"Stay awake. Coffee. Oh, Buffy. What in hell happened? Hell."
---
"Warm yet?"
"Warm me."
Xander embraced Cordy; they kissed each other fiercely, trying to
forget their hatred of the last year, trying to put the ghosts of
the Factory to rest.
They kissed, trying to forget the terrors of the last few days,
of the mayor transforming into a ravenous beast, of his inhuman
henchmen charging them and trying to feed them to a hungry demon,
and of the days they spent in the shadow of doom.
They kissed, trying to forget the social snobbery that kept them
apart, trying to forget their friends whose ideas of status and
proper behavior would have kept them from kissing, and trying to
forget that they once believed their friends.
They kissed, trying to remember how their hatred boiled into
lust, how danger drove them together, and how they wrested
something golden from pain and suffering.
They kissed, realizing that though they could not rely upon their
families, they could rely upon each other.
They kissed, for the joy of kissing.
Their hands wandered, and they slowly slipped off their
clothes. It was not elegant, but it was human.
They caressed each other; no school bells would interrupt them,
no parents' curfews would call them home, and nothing
supernatural would disturb them.
They stroked, nibbled, and licked at each other. They might not
be able to see each other, but they didn't need to. They saw
each other in the soft light of memory. So, they had been
scarred, by each other, by the town they had survived, by their
parents. There, in that tent, it mattered very little. They had
each other.
They made love. All thoughts faded for them but those of lust,
pride, and friendship. And, when it ended for them, they held
each other and promised that their joys would be repeated soon.
They shifted positions and soon they slumbered, awaiting the
dawn.
---
"Thinking much?" asked Willow.
"Can't. Looking."
"Good."
---
"Buffy, I'm home." "Beep." Joyce Summers ran to Buffy's bedroom,
only to find it empty; she then raced down to the answering
machine: "Mrs. Summers, this is Mr. Giles. Buffy is here...."
She ran back to her car.
---
Buffy's nightmares had come and gone; now, Giles sat by her side
and held her hand. "How many more battles must she fight?" His
eyes closed.
A few minutes later, Giles was awakened by the doorbell. Buffy
did not stir, and Giles rose from the bed to get the door.
"Mr. Giles."
Giles shushed Mrs. Summers and let her in. "She's resting,
finally. I don't think we should disturb her."
"I want to see her."
Giles nodded, and they quietly walked upstairs. Joyce walked to
the bed and stood over her sleeping daughter. She quietly sobbed
as she gazed at Buffy's limp and battered form. Then, she
recognized the marks on Buffy's neck, and she balled her hands
into fists and confronted Giles.
"What happened?"
Giles looked forlorn: "Come downstairs and I will explain. We
should not disturb her."
Joyce looked mutinous, but she brushed by Giles and walked down
the stairs into the kitchen.
"All right. What happened?"
"Tea?"
"Truth."
"In short, this. Mayor Wilkins had enacted a ritual that caused
him to transform into a demon at the commencement ceremony. He
was vulnerable for only a few minutes after the transformation,
and we lured him into a booby-trapped room."
"That does not concern me. What about Buffy?"
"Faith had gone to work for the mayor. 'Gone over to the dark
side of the Force,' as the kids called it. To distract your
daughter, she shot Angel with a poisoned arrow. The only cure was
the blood of a Slayer, and your daughter fought Faith so it could
be hers. It was a vicious fight; in the end, Buffy stabbed Faith,
and Faith threw herself off the roof of her building to deny
herself to Buffy."
"And? Oh, God." Joyce started to cry.
"I'm afraid so. Buffy cured Angel, and then Angel got her to the
hospital just in time."
"But, he didn't transform her, did he? She'll be all right?"
"It doesn't work that way, Mrs. Summers. Angel didn't kill Buffy
or make her drink from him; she will recover. You will see many
sunsets together still. Remember, you have no lasting effects
from Darla."
"Oh, God. And I wasn't there. I should have refused to leave
her."
"No, Mrs. Summers. Had you been there, Buffy would have died. You
would have died. You would have distracted her."
"But, I--I can't just stand there and watch her go through hell!
What can I do?" She rose and ran upstairs.
"Exactly what I do: watch," thought Giles. "Damn." He followed
Mrs. Summers.
Buffy had started dreaming again; her head lolled from side to
side, and she softly punched at the air. Mrs. Summers looked on
in horror and then threw herself onto the bed next to her
daughter, caught her up in a hug, and sobbed her name.
"Buffy?"
"Mom?" Finally, the dam broke; tears streamed down their faces as
Joyce rocked her daughter like a baby. Giles looked on in
confusion, and then Buffy turned toward him and gestured. He
joined them sitting on the bed.
Buffy touched the bruise on Giles' jaw. "Did I do that?"
"I'm afraid so, Buffy. Even asleep, you stil slay me." Giles
turned to Mrs. Summers and explained: "She was having a
nightmare."
"Sorry," said Buffy.
Giles knew he shouldn't be there; he felt no embarrassment being
around Joyce, but he could not interfere with the Summers
family. "Mrs. Summers."
"Joyce."
"Joyce. I know you're tired; would you like to stay here and get
some rest? I'll use the couch. And, when we wake up, I'll make
all of us brunch."
"Thank you. That would be fine."
"Giles, wait." Buffy reached out toward him, and he grasped her
proffered hand. They didn't say a word; they just looked intently
at each other. Suddenly, a feeling of peace entered her heart,
and she fell back onto the bed with a sleepy smile. He bent to
her and kissed her forehead, and then he walked out.
Joyce stretched out on the bed next to Buffy, and they
immediately fell into dreamless sleeps.
Rating: Hard R dwindling to PG.
Synopsis: The Gang tries to recover from the strains of
fighting the mayor and blowing up the school. Buffy tries
to heal with the aid of her mother and of Giles, Willow and
Oz try the traditional method of putting bad memories to
rest, and Xander and Cordelia decide to escape the
Hellmouth and their parents. Meanwhile, a town adjusts to
its losses.
Spoilers: Through season 3.
Note: One of my favorite fanfic series is the Epilogues
series by Gail Christison. I'd include a link to her web
site, but it keeps changing. I was originally going to make
this story compatible with "No Sad Songs...",
her GD2 epilogue. I decided against that, and I hope this
story isn't too close.
Relationships: W/O, C/X, Jo/G/B friendship. I made some
very debatable assumptions about Cordelia.
Status: I tried very hard to keep this canonical. Nothing
is contradicted by S4-5 episodes. Perhaps the people of
Sunnydale wouldn't react just this way, but they might
have. No spear-carriers were harmed in the writing of this
story. In fact, there's hardly anything supernatural or
violent in it at all.
Disclaimer: "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and its
characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Kuzui Films,
Fox Television, the Warner Brothers network, and Sandollar
Entertainment. No infringement is intended.
Copyright 2001 by Eric Jablow. All Rights Reserved.
However, feel free to archive, print, or mail this provided
it be kept intact.
---
Saturday Night
"Don't they know how bad we are?"
The Slayer and her Slayerettes walked down the street; none
gave the rubble that had been Sunnydale High School a
backwards glance.
"That's the problem with vamps, Willow. They never
learn," said Xander.
"And there are just so many of them. They keep coming
back," said Buffy. She then sighed.
"Hey, we won," said Cordelia. "Do you have to
worry about tomorrow? I mean, we just blew up Superdemon,
and made vampire flambe out of his friends. Do you
really think any vamps will be coming back for a
rematch?"
"I guess you're right." Buffy sagged a bit.
Oz waved at Willow; she crossed over to him and he murmured
into her ear, "She's a little drained. Let's get her
home." They shuffled their positions; Willow moved to
Buffy's left and wrapped her arm around Buffy's waist,
while Xander did the same at Buffy's right. Oz and Cordelia
joined them.
"Wonder of wonders; I'm not even jealous,"
thought Cordy.
By common consent, they walked in silence to Buffy's house.
Police cars and ambulances occasionally passed them, shuttling
the wounded and bitten to the hospital. Once, Buffy sobbed.
"Don't blame yourself. He'd have killed everyone. There are a
few hundred of us who got to walk home from school today because
of you. Mrs. Rosenberg is too young to sit shiva. Really."
"Thanks, Xander. But, I should have done better. And it never
ends," said Buffy.
"We'll be here to help. Hey! The whole school knows. It's war,
not just a guerilla action now. It's got to get better," said
Willow.
"Of course, you can't expect help from everyone. I mean, Kyle was
half a vamp already, right Xander?" replied Cordy.
Xander said, "Thanks, Cordy. Remind me of wanting to eat--"
Xander stopped just in time not to finish the sentence with
"Willow"; the resulting double entendre could have led to a
werewolf bite or worse.
"I object to this topic too," said Oz. Willow whispered to him,
"Why? I wouldn't mind." Oz stumbled for a moment, and then
hurried to catch up.
"I heard that," thought Buffy. "I'm glad. Enjoy yourselves."
Buffy looked at her friend and smiled. Willow smiled back.
They continued walking to Buffy's house, each lost in thought.
"We're here," said Willow. "Do you need anything? Do you want us
to stay?"
"Nah. I'm just going to fix a sandwich, take a bath, and go to
bed. Wake me on Labor Day. Besides, Mom probably left ten
messages for me already; I have to explain--"
Buffy's voice drifted into silence. Willow hugged her and kissed
her cheek, and then Xander did the same. Oz stood there quietly,
visibly moved, while Cordelia gave Buffy's shoulder a
squeeze. Buffy unlocked the front door, turned to them, and said,
"Thanks, guys. I couldn't have survived this without you." She
turned again, entered her house, and closed the door.
Cordy turned and kicked at a pebble; it bounced off a streetlight
and disappeared into the night. "Damn," she said.
"Cor?"
"OK, Xander. I don't worship her, but she deserves better than
this. Damn."
"Should we stay with her?" asked Willow.
"Will, I think we'd just distract her."
"Oz, but she needs to be distracted."
"She needs to deal, and sooner rather than later."
"Yeah, Cordy, Will; she'll be okay. She's been to hell,
remember?"
"Right. Duh. What now? The Bronze?" said Cordy.
"I really don't feel like partying," said
Xander.
"We really need to check in with our parents," said
Willow. Willow and Oz had turned to each other in an exhausted
embrace.
"Shall we walk you home?" said Cordelia.
"No thanks. We'll be fine," said Willow. "And you?"
"We'll survive," said Xander. "After all, we did so far. Who'd
have thunk it. Go. Deal with Mom."
Willow crossed to Xander, hugged him, and then patted Cordelia on
the shoulder. "Good people." Willow and Oz left.
Xander and Cordelia walked over to the local playground and sat
on neighboring swings.
"What are you going to do now?" asked Xander.
"I don't know. There's nothing for me here. No house. No
home. No family. No college. Precious little money." Cordy looked
grim. "No real talents, unless sarcasm counts."
"You have talents. You're brave, and you've turned into a good
friend. Despite the sarcasm."
"It doesn't show, does it?" They laughed. "Really. Thanks for
not giving me away. It's not as though I haven't embarrassed you
enough."
"I really hurt you before. It's not as though I didn't deserve
it. Besides, if we can't forgive each other, we'll fall
apart. And we have enemies!"
"Yeah. What about you?"
"I don't know. I'm not a college kind of guy. I want to see the
part of the world that isn't Sunnydale this summer. I want to be
able to walk outside at night without worrying whether the next
guy I see has a reflection or not. But I don't have much to come
back to either; Dad's a drunk, Mom's a lump, and I'm a Zeppo. If
it weren't for the gang, I'd have nothing."
"I'm sorry: I should never had said that. It's not true. And look
at me; I don't have a place here. I guess I'll go to LA, and try
to get an acting job. I mean, I do have a pretty face, as long as
worms don't get into my hair.
"Look, I really need to get away for a few days. Do you want to
take a road trip? I still have Uncle's car."
"Not much money, though, for either of us."
"Ah well, that's what sleeping bags and tents are for. We'll camp
out."
"And, when did you think of inviting me?"
"Just now. But, there's no one I'd rather go with."
"How romantic. Are you sure? We might kill each other still."
"After tonight? You killing me is the least of my worries. Demon
snakes, yes. You, no."
---
"Let's get our stuff."
"Where first?" asked Oz.
"Your van, then your place, then mine. We can call my Mom from
yours." Willow yawned. "I'm so tired; I want to go home, have
some cocoa, and go to bed. But."
"But what?"
"When I wake up, I want you there by my side."
Oz hugged Willow as they walked. "Won't your Mom freak?"
"Hey--she tried to burn me at the stake. She deserves to get
freaked out, don't you think?"
"My parents wouldn't freak--you'd be more comfortable."
"I want my room, my bath, and my bed."
"Marking your territory?"
"Yes."
"Gladness."
"Goodness."
"And I won't bite."
"But?"
"Certainly. Love ya."
---
"Beep-beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep-beep." Buffy hit the play
button on the answering machine.
10am: "Hi! It's Mom. You're out early today. Well, I'm in San
Francisco; I'm going to do all the touristy stuff, ride the cable
cars, dine on Fisherman's Wharf, shop, I don't know what
else. You have my cell phone number; call when you can."
4pm: "Hi! It's Mom. I guess you've been busy. Congratulations; I
wish you'd have let me be there. I'll call you in a couple of
hours."
7pm: "Not home yet? Please call, please."
9pm: "My God! CNN says that your high school blew up! Eight
students and two teachers dead, twenty wounded, and the principal
and mayor missing. I'm on my way back. Dear God, I hope you're
safe!"
Buffy dove for the phone and hit Mom's speed dial button.
Thoughts of Mom taking a turn too fast and slamming into a
roadside ditch entered her mind. "Ring!" "Pick up, Mom!" "Ring!"
"Please be there, Mom!" "Rin--Joyce Summers!" "Mom!" "Buffy!"
Buffy heard a clattering noise and the squeal of breaks for a
moment, and then Mom's voice came back.
"Buffy, are you all right?"
"Yes. No. It's been a horrible day."
"Buff, the explosion, was that a gas leak the way the news said."
"No, Mom."
"Slayer stuff? I should have known. I should have been there for
you."
"No! Had you been there, we'd both be dead. I couldn't take care
of you and do what I needed to do."
"And, what did you need to do, young lady?"
Buffy started to cry. "Later, Mom, please?"
"I'm sorry. Did your friends?"
"We're all fine. They were great. They are great. Brave. Needed
them all."
"Oh. And?" Joyce stopped short, but Buffy knew what she had been
about to ask.
"Gone. Okay. Left town. He kept his promise."
"I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, well, I guess it was doomed from the start. The doomed
and the damned."
"Don't say that! You are neither doomed nor damned. And I love
you. Your friends love you. You'll survive this, the way you
always have."
"This is different, though. Most problems I solve with Mister
Pointy. I can't stick a stake in my own heart."
"Oh. Buff, you're safe. That's all that matters. I'll be home in
a few hours. We'll talk in the morning."
"Thanks, Mom. Love ya."
"Love ya too." Joyce hung up.
Buffy went to the kitchen and made a peanut butter sandwich,
returned to the den, and turned on the TV to watch the local news
channel. "I'm glad they got this one wrong," she thought. She sat
on the couch, curled up into a ball. No one stopped by; no one
called. After the announcers repeated the story for the fourth
time, she turned off the TV. Alone with her thoughts, she started
to cry again. Finally, with a sob, she grabbed her handbag and
ran out.
---
"Hi, Mom, Dad."
"Oz. Willow, how nice to see you again. So, what was all that
about?"
"Oz, do they know?" asked Willow in a low voice.
"Tell them. They're grownups. They'll deal," replied
Oz. "Besides, they know about me."
"And us?" said Willow.
"Tell them," said Oz.
"Well, the Mayor decided to go all evil and eat the graduating
class, so we had to stop him. We did," said Willow.
"By blowing up the school?" said Oz's Mom.
"Well, we didn't have much choice, unless we liked dying."
"Well, you're okay." said Oz's Dad. "Dinner?"
Willow and Oz looked at each other. "We're starving."
"Oz, I need to call home," said Willow.
"Go. We'll be in the kitchen," said Oz.
Willow went into the den and called her home; the conversation
with her mother was as banal as ever. "Man, how clueless." She
joined the other three in the kitchen and interrupted a group
hug. Oz was crying like a baby; he could hold everything in just
so much. She turned Oz around and tried to kiss his tears away,
while he sobbed out, "Too much. Too many people." Finally, she
hugged him and kissed his mouth; she was crying too by now. Oz
wasn't ashamed, and she wasn't ashamed either.
Oz's parents watched the two with mixed pride and
exasperation. "They aren't even trying to hide it," murmured Oz's
Mom. "Should they?" Oz and Willow heard the conversation and
broke their kiss. "We won't hide." "Never."
They made some sandwiches and sat at the kitchen table to devour
them. Oz's parents drew from them most of what had happened that
day, though Oz and Willow did not discuss Angel or Faith. After
an hour, Willow told them that they had to get to her house, and
Oz went to his bedroom to pack a bag.
"He's going with you," said Oz's Mom.
"Certainly. We need this."
Oz returned with a gym bag and his guitar.
"Oz, this isn't just a fling, right?" said Oz's Dad.
"No. More."
"And, you have everything you need? You'll be safe?"
"As safe as anyone is in Sunnydale," said Willow.
"No, he means--" interrupted Oz.
"Oh. We know what we're doing. We've thought about it for
months."
"Oh." Oz's parents walked them to Oz's van, and they drove off.
---
Xander and Cordelia walked back to Xander's house. They didn't
say much; both wanted to wait until they could escape Sunnydale
to say anything serious.
"I have my things in the basement. Do you want to wait here?"
"No, I'll come with you."
Xander led her to the side door and down into the dark
room. There was a battered couch with a light blanket and a
stained pillow.
"How often do you sleep down here, Xander?"
"Well, Dad's food of choice is Miller, so, I'd say, three times a
week."
"Sorry."
"Me too. Ah, here they are. My duffel bag, some groceries, my
electric lantern, my tent, my sleeping bag, and--do you have a
sleeping bag at home?"
"No. I'm not the camping type."
"Well, here's a spare. It was Jesse's."
"Hurts much? At least we could bury Kevin."
"He was my best friend for so long. Well, he and--"
"Willow. You don't have to be afraid of saying her name around
me. Let's go; there's nothing for us here."
They carried the bags out and put them into Xander's trunk.
"Hey, Xander; you did well in shop class, I see. Almost no dent
left. Great work."
"Thanks. So, let's say goodbye. I know I'm going to hate this."
"You're probably right. Let's go in."
They walked in; they were right. Mr. Harris sat on the couch,
many empty cans of beer by his side. "So, you finally show
up. You didn't want me at your graduation; you're ashamed of me,
aren't you."
"I'm not even going to try."
"Oh, and it's the rich bitch. Well, you'll never be good enough
for the likes of her, Al-boy." He pointed at her: "You stuck-up
cu--Ow!" Xander grabbed Mr. Harris' outstretched arm and swung
him around into a perfect arm lock. He then forced his father
onto the couch.
"You do not insult my friends. Do you hear me?"
"Ow. Bastard."
"I wish I were, you lousy sot. Do you hear me? Cordy and I are
going away for a few days. We will be back, but if you treat her
like crap again, I won't be staying long. Do you hear me?"
"Ow. I'm sick."
"You aren't listening. You keep hurting my friends, and I won't
come back. Let's go, Cordy."
"You freaking idiot. You don't deserve him. And, do the Betty
Ford thing, or else." Cordy poked Mr. Harris in the side, and
then Mr. Harris groaned. "I'm going to be sick."
Xander and Cordy left, while Mr. Harris stumbled to the bathroom.
"I'm sorry you had to see that."
"Yeah. My mom is like that: pills, not booze. Where's your mom
anyway?"
"My aunt's, probably. Dad can deal with her; I won't. Let's go
to your place."
They drove to the richer area of town and stopped at a nearly
empty house with a "For Sale" sign in front. The two went to the
front door and went in. Cordy walked upstairs to her mother's
room and knocked.
"Cordy, is that you?" Cordy's mom had a quiet reedy voice.
"Yes mom, it's me. I'm going away for a few days."
"You're abandoning me? But, who will take care of me?"
"You'll get by; you always do."
"Kiss?" Cordy moved to her mother's bed and let her mother kiss
her, then she walked out and closed the door behind her.
"How is she?" asked Xander.
"She's zonked out on so many pills that it's a wonder she's still
breathing. Wait down here; I'll pack."
"Don't take too long. I'm getting the creeps."
"Worse than the mayor?"
"Yes."
"Back soon."
Five minutes later she walked downstairs with a large suitcase
and a garment bag.
"What's in there?"
"A surprise. Let's go." They put her things in the trunk and
drove off. On a whim, Xander drove first to the high school;
there were fire trucks and police cars there still, along with
some news trucks and the occasional gawker. Once someone noticed
Xander and called out "Hey, it's Sergeant Slaughter!" Xander and
Cordy grinned. "Hey, G.I. Joe's pretty good."
"You know, some of the worst times in my life happened in there,
and some of the best," said Xander.
"Really. Let's not talk about the worst. But what were the best?"
"Well, most of them involved the broom closet or the boiler
room."
"I bet you say that to all the girls."
"Nah. No one else would look at me, Cordy. Until you."
"Not just me."
"Cordy, I'm sorry. I'd wish it never happened with her, but
that's no good."
"Willow. Say her name."
"Willow. We were too scared; we knew it was wrong. She had Oz,
and I had you. But part of me didn't believe I had you; I was
still the loser you insulted every day. All the time, I never
really believed we could be together. I'm not exactly the most
confident guy, you know. And, for a while she wanted me. She
looked at me as though I were her hero, her savior. Willow, my
oldest, most loyal friend. Of course, I wanted her. I'm ashamed
of what I did to you, but somehow, I'll never stop loving her, or
Jesse, or the Buff. I can't forget them. Am I wrong? They're
more than family. God knows mine's no good."
"I guess not. You know, all the while I was insulting you, I
envied you. You had real friends. I had Harmony and Aura. What
you did was important, while I was the fashion queen."
"You did important things, though, when you gave yourself the
chance. And that's the thing; when we worked with Buffy and Giles
in the library, we had a purpose. We were a team."
"I'll order some Sunnydale Slayers T-shirts." Cordelia's eyes
softened. "Xander Harris, number one-eighth. So, do you want to
be a team again?"
Xander pulled the car to the curb, cut the engine, and said,
"Always." They shifted in their seats and bent their heads to
each other. They kissed gently, and then Xander restarted the
car. They circled the block and then headed out of town.
"Well, one good thing happened."
"Really, Xander? Something good happened today?"
"Well, we got to satisfy every high school student's fondest
fantasy."
"And that is, dork?"
"We got to blow up our school, and in a good cause."
"You're right. It does sound cool that way."
They drove out of town toward the highway leading north.
"Hey, we need some music." Cordy punched up the radio: "This is
KSDL, Sunnydale's Classic Rock station, and by request, we have
an oldie but goodie, one of everyone's favorites. Here's The Boss
and the E-Street Band with Born To Run!" Xander laughed and
turned the volume to the max; by the time Bruce got to "It's a
death trap, it's a suicide rap, we got to get out while we're
young. 'Cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run!", the two
were singing along at the top of their voices. The two sped into
the night.
---
Rupert Giles walked up the path to his apartment. He had gone to
the hospital to check upon Wesley and the wounded students, but
the staff was too busy to give him any information. Finally, the
emergency room nurse told him, "You're not hurt this time, and
we're too busy to chat. Go home!"
He let himself in the front door and turned on the light, and
then he heard a soft voice say, "Giles?"
"Buffy." He turned to the voice and saw Buffy curled up in a ball
on his couch, hugging her knees. "I'm here."
Buffy looked lost for a moment, and then she turned toward Giles
and stared at him.
"Buffy, what's wrong? Can I help?"
"I can't stop thinking, Giles. Talk to me. Distract me, please."
"Wouldn't you do better dancing at the Bronze?"
"Do you think I'm that callous, Giles? We lost too many people
today. 'Buffy Summers, Class Protector,' Ha!"
"It isn't your fault, Buffy."
"They trusted me, and they died for it. And I can't even be sorry
I put them in harm's way because I knew it was necessary."
"Oh, Buffy. Please don't blame yourself."
"But, so many of them died. I called for their help, and they
died giving it to me."
"Do you know why they trusted you?" Buffy was silent. "Because
you always gave fully of yourself. You are worthy of their
trust. And despite our conflicts, you are worthy of mine. I trust
you more than I do myself."
"They could have ran. They could have stayed away."
"They chose not to. It's their town, their school. They have a
right to fight for what they hold dear."
"I sat at home watching the news over and over, and I kept
thinking that I could have found an better way."
"Buffy, we wracked our brains trying to figure another plan. We
couldn't. I still don't see any other way that would have
worked."
"Who's going to get killed next because of me? How many
strangers? How many friends? Willow? Xander? Oz? Cordy? Mom?
You?" Her eyes widened with that last question.
"No one is going to get killed because of you. We will stand by
you, and we shall prevail."
"But they died. We didn't really prevail, Giles. We lost too
much."
"We lost very much, but you weren't the cause of that. Don't you
know that they fought for you because they love and respect you?
The way Willow does, and Xander and Oz, and even Cordelia. And
I."
"Oh, Giles." She started crying, and he enfolded her in his
arms. They sat like that until she calmed and fell asleep, and he
carried her to his bed.
---
"Hi, Mom." Mrs. Rosenberg was ironing some clothes.
"Willow. Oz. You're late."
"We had dinner at Oz's. So, what's happening here?"
"Oh, I typed up about 15 more pages of my new paper. How was the
ceremony, Willow?"
"A blast," said Oz. Willow rolled her eyes at him, and Oz
shrugged back. "Cocoa?" "Fine." Willow set some milk to boil and
stirred it while Oz sat sat by the kitchen table and strummed his
guitar.
"Comfortable, Oz?" Willow said softly.
"No. Little freaked."
"She won't even notice. She never does. Well, almost never."
Mrs. Rosenberg watched them for a moment, and then picked up her
folded clothes and walked upstairs.
"Is she always like this?"
"Yeah. It's pretty convenient, what with following Buff, cracking
computer systems, being in the Demon-of-the-Month club, and
hanging out with my favorite band all filling up my midnights,
but she still gives me the creeps. If she cared, she'd complain."
"Hey, I think you turned out pretty well."
"Thanks." Willow added some cocoa and sugar to the milk, added a
couple of drops of vanilla extract, and stirred for another
minute. She then poured it into a pair of mugs, placed them on a
tray, and led him to her room.
---
"Summers' residence. Please leave a message."
"Mrs. Summers, this is Mr. Giles. Buffy is here at my apartment;
she couldn't sleep, and so she came here to talk. Please come by
however early you get in."
---
Outside the 7-11, Cordelia handed Xander the bag of supplies she
had bought. Xander looked inside.
"Chocolate, good. Six-pack of Coke, better." Xander looked at
her other purchase--ribbed. "Best," he said, while smiling
widely.
"Just staking a claim."
"Works for me."
---
"Oooh," moaned Willow. "Great idea, Xander," she thought. "Oz!"
Willow stopped thinking for a while.
---
Giles had let Buffy use his bed while he took the floor; now
cries and shouts awakened him. He saw Buffy thrashing from side
to side, punching at the air, gasping out words.
"Faith. Stop. Blood. Angel. Knife. Kill."
Giles moved next to Buffy, whispered her name and tried to still
her hands, trying to interrupt her nightmare. Buffy became even
more frantic, jerking her head and kicking out with her legs, and
then she got a hand free and punched Giles in the jaw. Giles fell
back onto the floor; somewhat shaken, he got up. Meanwhile,
Buffy's cries subsided.
Giles pulled himself onto the bed again; now he saw Buffy move
her head to one side and offer her neck to an unseen Angel. She
gasped out, "Drink!" Giles watched helplessly while a look of
terror appeared on Buffy's face. Finally, the nightmare ended,
and Buffy began to breathe normally again.
Giles slipped off the bed and returned to his quilt and pillow;
tears poured down his face, and he cursed Mayor Wilkins for
attempting to purchase immortality at so terrible a cost.
---
"Breathe. She's safe. Breathe. Don't crash the car."
---
Cordelia yawned. "How much further?"
"About two minutes. I remember this place from Cub Scouts. You
okay?"
"Yeah. It's peaceful. I am a little cold, though. Warm me?"
"Love to." Xander pointed out a sign for a county park and
campground. "We'll have to sneak in; I didn't have time to get a
permit, but I think local kids sneak in a lot."
"Try to find someplace private."
"Of course. Ah, this should do. Park here, hop the fence, we're
in."
"You'd think we did this all the time."
"We do. It's the least criminal thing we've done all day."
"Ugh. I'm glad high school didn't have metal detectors."
"Giles would have been screwed then."
"Yeah. Let's go."
They got their things from the trunk, sneaked over the fence, and
walked to a deserted clearing. Xander set up the tent, while
Cordy unrolled the sleeping bags.
"Do these zip together? I've heard of that."
"Don't know. That was Jesse's. We weren't that close."
"Ha. They do. Cool! Hey, you're good at that."
"I feel like a Cub Scout, you know. I always do around you."
"Better not. This wouldn't be any fun."
Xander pulled out an air mattress from his duffel bag and
proceeded to blow it up, while Cordelia put their bags inside the
tent.
"Don't wear yourself out."
"That's your job, right?" Puff. Puff.
"And, don't you forget it." Cordy grabbed a pair of Cokes and
opened one.
"What?" Puff. Puff.
"I like looking at you. Speedos, tux, jeans, whatever."
"Well, remember when you didn't want to look at me?" Puff. Puff.
"Would you just shut up."
"And?"
"Kiss me."
"That I can do." Xander capped the valve on the air mattress and
crossed to her. They kissed. "Let's go inside."
They put the mattress inside, set the sleeping bags on the
mattress, climbed in, and closed the tent flap. Then, they kicked
off their shoes and slipped inside the sleeping bag. They
finished their sodas as their bodies slowly warmed the sleeping
bag.
"I never thought m--our first time would be in a tent."
"Yours."
"You don't sound surprised."
"Nah. I said only that you dressed like a nympho, not that you
were one."
"Thanks."
"Besides, I knew the guys you dated weren't really important to
you. But you were important to you."
"Unlike you. That explains Faith."
"Not a good thing. And the worst part of it was that Angel had to
save me from her. Do you know how humiliating that is?"
"Hey, I'm here with you."
"That's the true Cordelia."
---
"I can do this. Josie8291 told me she likes doing this to her
boyfriend," thought Willow. "If Mom only knew what we discussed
in those chat rooms...."
"You don't have to," interrupted Oz.
"I want to." Willow made her "resolved face," and Oz stopped
talking. Soon he was making only incoherent noises and gasps.
---
Buffy started to dream again, but her motions were weaker; she
was exhausted. Giles felt helpless. "Chosen--for this? Bloody
hell."
---
"Stay awake. Coffee. Oh, Buffy. What in hell happened? Hell."
---
"Warm yet?"
"Warm me."
Xander embraced Cordy; they kissed each other fiercely, trying to
forget their hatred of the last year, trying to put the ghosts of
the Factory to rest.
They kissed, trying to forget the terrors of the last few days,
of the mayor transforming into a ravenous beast, of his inhuman
henchmen charging them and trying to feed them to a hungry demon,
and of the days they spent in the shadow of doom.
They kissed, trying to forget the social snobbery that kept them
apart, trying to forget their friends whose ideas of status and
proper behavior would have kept them from kissing, and trying to
forget that they once believed their friends.
They kissed, trying to remember how their hatred boiled into
lust, how danger drove them together, and how they wrested
something golden from pain and suffering.
They kissed, realizing that though they could not rely upon their
families, they could rely upon each other.
They kissed, for the joy of kissing.
Their hands wandered, and they slowly slipped off their
clothes. It was not elegant, but it was human.
They caressed each other; no school bells would interrupt them,
no parents' curfews would call them home, and nothing
supernatural would disturb them.
They stroked, nibbled, and licked at each other. They might not
be able to see each other, but they didn't need to. They saw
each other in the soft light of memory. So, they had been
scarred, by each other, by the town they had survived, by their
parents. There, in that tent, it mattered very little. They had
each other.
They made love. All thoughts faded for them but those of lust,
pride, and friendship. And, when it ended for them, they held
each other and promised that their joys would be repeated soon.
They shifted positions and soon they slumbered, awaiting the
dawn.
---
"Thinking much?" asked Willow.
"Can't. Looking."
"Good."
---
"Buffy, I'm home." "Beep." Joyce Summers ran to Buffy's bedroom,
only to find it empty; she then raced down to the answering
machine: "Mrs. Summers, this is Mr. Giles. Buffy is here...."
She ran back to her car.
---
Buffy's nightmares had come and gone; now, Giles sat by her side
and held her hand. "How many more battles must she fight?" His
eyes closed.
A few minutes later, Giles was awakened by the doorbell. Buffy
did not stir, and Giles rose from the bed to get the door.
"Mr. Giles."
Giles shushed Mrs. Summers and let her in. "She's resting,
finally. I don't think we should disturb her."
"I want to see her."
Giles nodded, and they quietly walked upstairs. Joyce walked to
the bed and stood over her sleeping daughter. She quietly sobbed
as she gazed at Buffy's limp and battered form. Then, she
recognized the marks on Buffy's neck, and she balled her hands
into fists and confronted Giles.
"What happened?"
Giles looked forlorn: "Come downstairs and I will explain. We
should not disturb her."
Joyce looked mutinous, but she brushed by Giles and walked down
the stairs into the kitchen.
"All right. What happened?"
"Tea?"
"Truth."
"In short, this. Mayor Wilkins had enacted a ritual that caused
him to transform into a demon at the commencement ceremony. He
was vulnerable for only a few minutes after the transformation,
and we lured him into a booby-trapped room."
"That does not concern me. What about Buffy?"
"Faith had gone to work for the mayor. 'Gone over to the dark
side of the Force,' as the kids called it. To distract your
daughter, she shot Angel with a poisoned arrow. The only cure was
the blood of a Slayer, and your daughter fought Faith so it could
be hers. It was a vicious fight; in the end, Buffy stabbed Faith,
and Faith threw herself off the roof of her building to deny
herself to Buffy."
"And? Oh, God." Joyce started to cry.
"I'm afraid so. Buffy cured Angel, and then Angel got her to the
hospital just in time."
"But, he didn't transform her, did he? She'll be all right?"
"It doesn't work that way, Mrs. Summers. Angel didn't kill Buffy
or make her drink from him; she will recover. You will see many
sunsets together still. Remember, you have no lasting effects
from Darla."
"Oh, God. And I wasn't there. I should have refused to leave
her."
"No, Mrs. Summers. Had you been there, Buffy would have died. You
would have died. You would have distracted her."
"But, I--I can't just stand there and watch her go through hell!
What can I do?" She rose and ran upstairs.
"Exactly what I do: watch," thought Giles. "Damn." He followed
Mrs. Summers.
Buffy had started dreaming again; her head lolled from side to
side, and she softly punched at the air. Mrs. Summers looked on
in horror and then threw herself onto the bed next to her
daughter, caught her up in a hug, and sobbed her name.
"Buffy?"
"Mom?" Finally, the dam broke; tears streamed down their faces as
Joyce rocked her daughter like a baby. Giles looked on in
confusion, and then Buffy turned toward him and gestured. He
joined them sitting on the bed.
Buffy touched the bruise on Giles' jaw. "Did I do that?"
"I'm afraid so, Buffy. Even asleep, you stil slay me." Giles
turned to Mrs. Summers and explained: "She was having a
nightmare."
"Sorry," said Buffy.
Giles knew he shouldn't be there; he felt no embarrassment being
around Joyce, but he could not interfere with the Summers
family. "Mrs. Summers."
"Joyce."
"Joyce. I know you're tired; would you like to stay here and get
some rest? I'll use the couch. And, when we wake up, I'll make
all of us brunch."
"Thank you. That would be fine."
"Giles, wait." Buffy reached out toward him, and he grasped her
proffered hand. They didn't say a word; they just looked intently
at each other. Suddenly, a feeling of peace entered her heart,
and she fell back onto the bed with a sleepy smile. He bent to
her and kissed her forehead, and then he walked out.
Joyce stretched out on the bed next to Buffy, and they
immediately fell into dreamless sleeps.