DISCLAIMER: Okay, obviously anything you recognize, I don't own. Buffy: The Vampire Slayer and all related characters, etc. doesn't belong to me.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: “Slaying the Purple Gryphon” was written for Felicity’s Millennium contest (and won! Thank you again!). Since so many people asked for a sequel, I’m following up on that implication.
SPOILERS: Possibly lots of general ones, but nothing specific is planned. This does not fit into the show due to events of the previous story.
FEEDBACK: Any comments are not only welcome, but begged for.
January 2, 2000
A cool breeze from the open window filled Buffy’s room. It stirred something on Buffy’s pillow. It was that movement which finally awoke her as it brushed her cheek with a gentle touch.
Buffy blinked wearily. She still felt incredibly tired. She’d been fading in and out of consciousness for two days. Most times the pain was enough to overwhelm her. It was less each time she awoke, though, and voices near at hand assured her it would be gone soon.
Unlike the other times that she’d woken up, this time Buffy knew she was awake. This was the first time in days that she’d truly been lucid. The pain was still there, just on the mild side of bearable. Buffy stared at her ceiling and did not want to move.
The touch at her cheek came again, and Buffy swiped at it in frustration. The sudden movement made her stifle a gasp of pain. She rolled to the side to see what her hand had come in contact with. It was a feather, long and iridescent purple, dusty with age.
A gryphon’s feather.
A movement at the window drew Buffy’s attention. She blinked for a moment at the familiar figure beyond the glass, knowing that he returned her gaze. He only waited for her to notice him.
“Come in, Angel.” It was a whisper, but she knew that he heard.
He climbed through the open window and moved quickly to her side. Saying nothing at first he went to sit on her bed. She cried out in pain at the bed’s movement, and he knelt on the floor instead. “Sorry.”
Buffy forced a smile.
Angel returned it, just as forced. Buffy could feel his concern. “How are you?” he asked softly.
“I’ve been better,” she replied weakly. “Why are you still in town?”
“I wanted…” To stay, his heart cried. To be forgiven. “To make sure you’re okay.”
Buffy looked at him oddly. She knew that wasn’t what he wanted to say, just like she knew her own thoughts. How could that be? “What’s going on, Angel?” she whispered. “I can hear you…”
Angel pulled back in surprise. She felt a flash of his guilt, pain, and fear. “Buffy…” His coat moved aside and a new necklace swung free.
Buffy recognized the pendant. The corresponding weight around her neck was all the response she needed. They’d performed the binding ritual…forever catching her in Angel’s life.
“You would have died,” Angel whispered.
Forever. Unexpectedly, she began to
sob. She was in too much pain for Angel to comfort her ever again.
The tears dried on Buffy’s cheeks when she awoke. Memories…dreams…they all blended together. This dream did not fade as she awoke; she knew it too well.
Buffy swung her legs out of bed and stood for a moment at the window. Which city was she in? She didn’t remember. Nor did she remember why she’d come here. Slowly she began to stretch, a movement that led her into her daily exercises. She took stock of herself. All bones and muscle now. Her friends would have said she was too thin…but they’d all passed away and she’d never tried to make new ones. Why should she?
Her exercises woke her body. Her mind followed quickly. When that happened, it began to follow familiar paths.
To him. He was closer now. It seemed no matter how she tried to run away he always ended up closer. Maybe that was what drew her to this city. Would today be the day that she faced that old fear? That she faced him?
As soon as their minds touched Buffy pulled away again. No. The walls they’d built between each other were too thick. In her mind, Buffy added another layer between them. Maybe someday she would manage to forget.
Or maybe someday the walls would come
crashing down.
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