Part One
Angel’s vision went from utter darkness to blinding light. He flinched instinctively, blinking until his eyes adjusted. He felt cold stone beneath him before his surroundings revealed themselves to his vision.
He was lying on the floor just like he had fallen a moment before. As he looked up the place finally appeared to him. It was both familiar and strange at the same time. It was like the place where he had met the Oracles over half a year ago. The same cold marble, the same shifting light. Yet this place was more vast, leaving Angel feeling much smaller than he was.
A hand touched Angel’s shoulder, and he rolled, trying to stand. The hand did not move, but kept Angel from getting away. “It’s alright,” said the owner of the voice, “nothing will harm you here.”
The hand let up and Angel managed to rise to a sitting position. He was facing an old woman, her face heavily lined but smiling with maternal love. Angel immediately felt at ease.
“There, you see?” she said, pleased. “All is well now.”
It wasn’t until that moment that Angel realized that his wounds were gone. Somehow that didn’t surprise him. The old woman stood and Angel rose as well. “Who? How?” he tried to ask, flustered.
“The time for questions is past,” he said. Then her image wavered and Angel found himself gazing at a young woman bearing a sword and shield. “You have fought valiantly, Warrior,” she proclaimed. “The good in this world will not come to an end in your lifetime.”
Angel opened his mouth to speak and the woman smiled indulgently. “Even in your unnatural lifetime,” she proclaimed.
“So…what happens now?” Angel asked softly.
The woman’s image changed again until she was blindfolded and carrying a set of scales. Justice personified. “You are a creature of balance,” she declared. “Capable of good or evil. As it should be. Now the world is restored to that same balance. It lies out of your hands whether the world will fall to good or evil now. The actions of lower beings will decide that.”
“Then…I have no further duties?” Angel asked, confused.
She returned to the appearance of an old woman. “Peace, Angel, is yours if you want it.”
Was she speaking of death? Final peace? He wasn’t sure he wanted to take that step. “I….”
The woman was now a young child with a wide, innocent gaze. “This is not an ending. It is a beginning,” she said in a childish lilt. “What do you want, Angel?”
Angel was startled by the question. “I’m sorry?”
“What do you want? Tell me, anything at all that you’d want…your earthly reward for your actions on this night and your sacrifices of the past,” the child said.
Angel did not hesitate again. “I want Buffy to have the chance to live. Really live. To get the sort of life that others have and she could never realistically hope for.”
The child blinked at him curiously. “You wish nothing for yourself?”
“That is for myself. All my wishes are for her.”
The child became the young woman again, this time without the weapons. “I never imagined when I brought you to her that you would grow to love her so.”
“I do,” Angel replied. “I love her with my entire being.”
“Would you give up your promised reward – your *life* - so that she could live again?” Justice asked.
“Without hesitation,” Angel replied.
“Would you give of your immortal life that she might have those years she was denied in this life?”
“Yes.”
“Then know this,” the old woman said. “Your sacrifices have been noted. Your soul cannot be taken from you again. Your demon shall no longer plague you or your friends.” She laid her hand on Angel’s shoulder once again. “Thank you. And good luck. Happiness is waiting.”
Cordelia was breathing heavily, leaning with one hand against the remains of a library wall. She was completely exhausted, but she was alive. There wasn’t a demon left in the building in one piece. “I made it,” she whispered. It was quiet; the world wasn’t coming to an end. “We made it.
Limping slightly, Cordelia began to try and take stock of everyone else. She saw Riley helping some of his friends from the Initiative. He met her eyes as he too looked around and nodded at her that he was all right. Just entering the old library, she saw Giles carrying rolls of bandages. They were sure to need them.
“Cordelia!”
Cordelia turned and couldn’t help but smile. “Wesley! You’re okay,” she said, pleased.
“A bit bruised, but I’ll be all right,” Wesley replied.
“What about everyone else?” Cordelia asked urgently.
Wesley smiled. “We made it, Cordelia. We were incredibly lucky. A couple of people might need to go to the hospital – cuts, broken bones, that sort of thing, but…everyone I’ve seen is pretty much all right.” His smile slipped slightly.
“Pretty much all right?” Cordelia asked warily. She frowned at him. There was something… “Where is Angel?”
Wesley bit his lip. “We got separated at the beginning of the battle,” he said reluctantly. “I haven’t seen him since.”
Cordelia forced down the beginnings of panic. “We have to find him,” she said urgently.
“Of course,” Wesley agreed. He went to help Cordelia as she went to limp around a fallen demon.
“I can get there myself,” Cordelia said angrily, shaking him off. He looked hurt. “I’m sorry. I’m just…”
“Worried,” Wesley said in understanding. “Cordelia…” he hesitated. “You know, if he didn’t make it, there wouldn’t be…”
“Stop it!” Cordelia snapped. “We’ll find him. We’ll find him right where there are the most dead demons. He would have been right where the battle was thickest.” She looked at Wesley pointedly. “Where was the ritual taking place?”
Wesley said nothing, but joined Cordelia in weaving around the bodies. Every time he kicked up some vampire dust he flinched. As they walked, the number of dead demons increased. Cordelia was right – if they were going to find Angel, that’s where he would be.
“There,” Cordelia said suddenly. She moved relatively agilely over to a pile of rubble that had been an altar place. She sighed in relief, seeing someone half hidden behind the table. “Angel…” she said gently.
Wesley hurried next to her. He whistled in sympathetic pain. “He’s hurt pretty bad,” he said. Wesley just touched Angel’s arm for a moment and couldn’t miss the feel of blood. “He needs to be bandaged up before we can get him out of here. I’ll call Giles…”
“Wesley…”
“Giles!” Wesley waved to get the bandage carrying Watcher’s attention.
“Wesley!” Cordelia cried in pain. Wesley turned just in time to see her begin to fall to her knees. Her eyes were closed and her face contorted with the pain of vision. He caught her before she hit the floor and landed on Angel.
After a moment she lost her pained look, opened her eyes, and took a deep breath. She was smiling. “Wesley…”
Giles made his way to them at that precise moment. “Are you all right, Cordelia?” he asked urgently, having seen her fall.
“It was a vision,” she explained, but she wasn’t looking at Giles. She was looking at Angel.
“I called you over for Angel,” Wesley explained briefly.
“Oh, good lord,” Giles said, looking at the extent of Angel’s wounds. No doubt about it – the vampire was a total mess.
“We need to get him bandaged up and back to the mansion,” Cordelia said urgently.
Wesley met her eyes at that. “What did you see?”
Cordelia looked at him intently. “He made a deal with the Powers That Be,” she said steadily. She raised her gaze to meet Giles’ confused look. “He got them to bring Buffy back.”
Giles gasped and looked at the unconscious vampire. “What…”
“That’s what I saw,” Cordelia tried to explain. “And here’s what I know – they’re using his own strength, his ‘possible years,’ to bring her back. So we need to get him bandaged up, get him to his room, and let him alone so that the PTBs can do as they promised.”
Giles just stood there for a moment, shocked. “Yes,” he said finally, shaking himself out of his daze. “Yes, of course.” Together, the three of them began to clean Angel up in silence.
The only sounds in the room were her breathing and her heartbeat. Which, considering the fact that she wasn’t alone in the bed would usually be a little odd. Buffy awoke slowly, disoriented. She was in a bed she remembered from a year ago, remembered resting here after a night’s patrol. And just like then, she knew the person who lay next to her was the same one as before, one whose heart had not beaten in nearly 250 years.
Stretching, Buffy took stock of herself with some confusion. She didn’t remember how she had gotten here. And she certainly didn’t usually go to bed wearing her nicest dress, or patrol in it for that matter.
Halfway through the motion, Buffy froze. This wasn’t right. She remembered…a battle. And pain. Horrible pain, like she was dying. Voices and fear…she was dead!
Buffy jumped from the bed, too panicked to even cry out. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears. She ran her hands over her dress in an attempt to calm herself. She touched the fabric and came to yet another disturbing revelation – the only reason she was wearing her dress was that she had been buried in it. She barely managed to avoid tearing the fabric as she violently took the dress off.
Standing there, holding her dress in front of her, looking at Angel not moving in his bed, Buffy *knew.* Not the circumstances of her death; that she had already remembered. No, instead she knew that Angel had made a deal for her life. She knew the opportunity he had given up. She remembered, in a dream-like sort of way, seeing Angel…speaking with Angel after she had died.
She had died. Her mind was still struggling to grasp that concept.
Leaning against the wall, Buffy sighed. The dress fell forgotten on the floor. Taking a deep breath, she simply stood there for a moment and watched Angel sleep. He had a small smile on his face that was a bit at odds with the heavy bandages on his back and sides. Buffy found herself wishing that she’d been able to fight along side him. But she’d get plenty of chances for that in the future.
This whole time Angel had not moved. Buffy knew, like she knew the deal that Angel had made, that he would still be asleep for several days. He needed to build back the strength that he had given in battle and for Buffy’s return. Buffy didn’t mind, though – she had some things that she needed to take care of on her own before figuring out what to do with Angel. Like telling her mom that she was alive, for one.
Grabbing a shirt and pants from Angel’s closet, she smiled at him one more time. This was all about second chances.
The mansion was very quiet outside of the bedroom. Buffy took her time in walking towards the main room. She stood for a moment just looking at the scene that greeted her before she was noticed. Cordelia sat in one of the chairs, painting her nails, an ace bandage wrapped securely around on foot. Giles sat on the couch, a book on his lap. Willow sat next to him, looking like she was trying to look at the book with Giles, but she seemed to be falling asleep instead.
“What’s this?” Buffy said loudly, in a teasing tone. “Don’t you people have homes?”
All three of them turned quickly. “Buffy!” Willow cried loudly, jumping from her seat. Buffy could see now that she had one arm in a sling. Willow was across the room quickly and enveloped Buffy in a one armed hug. “You’re back. He…they did it,” she stuttered. Then softer, “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” Buffy said, mostly because it was the best thing to say in this situation. She looked up to see both Giles and Cordelia standing there as well. “All of you.”
Giles stepped forward to give her a hug, too. “It’s good to have you back, Buffy.”
“It’s good to *be* back,” Buffy agreed. “I’ll try not to die for you again. Twice is enough for any lifetime.”
Giles chuckled at that. “Yes, well…Thank you.”
Buffy turned and looked at Cordelia then. Cordelia did not approach, but she smiled. “Don’t hug me. My nail polish is wet.”
Buffy chuckled. “It’s good to see you, too, Cordelia.”
There was a long, uncomfortable silence. With a twist in her gut, Buffy feared it was the first of many. After all, how did one talk to someone whose funeral you’d attended nearly two weeks ago?
“So,” Buffy said at last, striding the rest of the way into the large room. “I understand I missed one hell of a battle. You are going to tell me all about it, right?” She smiled and waited for them to join her.
Feedback
is like potato chips - you can never have just one
Back
to Cynamin's Fan Fiction