Fic: Homeward Bound (1/?)

[buffythebushkangaroo@xxxxxxxxxxx]

You guys are great. I love you guys.

Anne-Lise.

--


Anthropomorphics. Its amazing how we can imagine a name or a face 
to our distress; The little green jealousy monster, the scythe of 
death. Yet we've never really managed to put a face or a name to our 
fear. So strange, for our fear can be a living entity, feeding from 
us, breeding anew.

*

"Dawn, listen to me. Listen!" I was never much good at this. "I love 
you. I will always love you... But this is the work that I have to 
do." Death is my gift. "Tell Giles... Tell Giles I figured it out... 
And I'm okay." I stroke her cheek and kiss her, and then I dive into 
the maelstrom.

*

"What's wrong?" Colin gave his brother the Vulcan eyebrow. "You seem 
concerned."
"Its the timer." Quinn held up the offending item so Colin could 
see. "Its flipping back and forth between two times and I don't know 
which one's right. If the timer screws up on this world, there's no 
way I can find the tools or resources to fix it."
"Bummer." Colin's grasp of technology was still shaky at best, but 
he understood that Quinn was worried and that was enough for him.
"Guys!" Rembrandt shouted over from their makeshift bivouac.
Quinn looked over. "How is she?"
"Not good. We need to get off this world."
"Yeah..." Quinn rubbed the back of his head. "That might be a 
problem."

*

This wasn't what she expected. She had no idea exactly what to 
expect, but this was nothing like she imagined. The sensation could 
almost be considered pleasant. She felt like she was moving at great 
speed, but all she could see was a bright light. And she wasn't alone.
"Who are you?" she called out but got no reply. The stranger glared 
at her... and attacked.
She was weary from the battle against Glory and she had no weapon, 
but that didn't matter to her anymore. She was a weapon. She was a 
killer. She was the Slayer, and she fought.
"Who are you?" The stranger echoed. A stranger who looked just like 
her, even down to the clothes she wore.
"I'm Buffy Summers." Buffy smiled and unleashed a powerful 
combination of punches, elbows and kicks that drove her assailant 
backwards. "And I'm the Slayer."
Her assailant's eyes widened and left an opening. Buffy took it, 
and ended the fight. Then the near-blinding light managed to get 
brighter, and Buffy felt herself fall.

*

The letters started three weeks after Buffy's death. I was so not 
coping. I tried to be the strong one, I tried so hard. I went to see 
Angel in LA and broke the news to him. He took it in stride, as if 
he'd expected the news. He just walked away to his private rooms.
Cordelia hugged me until she remembered I was a lesbian. Then she 
scooted away to make coffee. She mumbled something about living on a 
world without caffeine.
Wesley was great. I've never thought much of him. But he had some 
words that made sense, and I broke down in his arms. I fainted... in 
his arms. Cordelia told me later that some girl called Virginia had 
found us like that. Apparently she'd slapped him upside the head and 
stormed out. I wish I'd seen that... I really needed cheering up.
I got back to Sunnydale to find everything different. Giles had 
driven off. Its funny, but I've never thought of Giles as someone who 
couldn't cope. Losing Buffy... I guess that's what it took.
Tara wasn't around. She was over at Buffy's house taking care of 
Dawn. Poor dawn. Xander and Anya... I think they're in Vegas having a 
wedding... in the style of Shaft or something. Seeing Xander in a 
large Afro is something I can live my life without. So I'm here, all 
alone. With the letter and my fear.

*

"The first counter's almost at zero." Quinn stated as he watched the 
readout alternate between the two times.
Rembrandt nodded. "How much time do we have left?"
Quinn glanced down again. "None." Light flared and a portal breezed 
into existence.
"Step back!" Quinn warned as he stared at the oscillating whites and 
blues of a portal unlike any he'd seen before. "Something's not 
right." Rembrandt scooted backwards while Quinn and Colin helped pull 
Maggie away. She was having trouble breathing the atmosphere of this 
world, and was suffering terribly.
A crack, like thunder, pealed away from the portal and a young 
woman dropped from the balefire light and fell to the floor. The 
newcomer tried to stagger to her feet, but the effort proved too much 
for her and she slumped back onto the ground.
Behind her, the portal winked out of existence.
Quinn looked down at his timer. There was now only one time 
counting down.
"We've got another twelve hours and change," he said. He carefully 
stowed the timer and knelt beside the unconscious girl.
"She's pretty," Colin said.

*

The newspapers called him The Reaper. Another screwed up little 
white boy aged between twenty and thirty-five, highly educated and 
emotionally unstable. That was the prognosis.
Four kills so far; All the bodies found within the State of 
California.
All four girls had red hair, and all four were missing their little 
fingers.
And then the letters started.

*

End Part 1.