FIC: Afterlife Happens (B/W) (2/?)

["ivygort" <ivygort@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

Author Ivy Gort      

Spoilers up to Afterlife and then it takes off in another direction.

Direct quotes from the episode Afterlife written by Jane Epson.  

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters nor do I claim ownership of this fiction.

Summary: Willow has to deal with the consequences of her actions.

Dedication: Mad Hamlet is no longer on the list so I think its safe to say this, he is my hero. Nothing I will ever write will be close to his brilliance, but I'm going to keep trying and maybe, someday, I'll make it.

My thanks go to Ann Marie for BETA reading this monster! This part would not have been written, without her help!

Feedback: Please! I'm addicted to it.

 

 

 

 

Part Two

 

 

 

I look around the park I found myself in when I was too tired to run anymore. It's a nice park by Sunnydale standards. A small lake on one end, a pretty little stream and bridge on the other. Tara and I would come and eat lunch here between classes last year. Before she lost her mind, before Buffy called me her "big gun" and before Buffy died. 

 

Before 'I was in heaven, and now I'm not, I was torn..'  

 

I so don't want to go there right now; I try to distract my mind by looking around. There are lots of people out sitting at tables, having picnics, so I guess it must be lunchtime. Which means it's only been a few hours atthe most, since I overheard Buffy's confession to Spike.

 

Dawn will be getting out of school in about 3 hours, I think automatically.Then remember that Buffy's back so I don't have to worry about picking her up anymore. 

 

'I was in heaven, and now I'm not, I was torn..'  

 

Dawn! Think about Dawn and how Tara and I tried to never leave her alone after. well. Buffy killed herself. Well, she didn't exactly kill herself; she just jumped to save the world. yeah, right.

 

That's what it felt like. My best friend was so tired and worn down emotionally last spring that I thought, from her message to Dawn, that she was happy about taking the high drive off the tower.

 

And I was right.  

 

Oh, Goddess Bless! How could I have pulled her out of heaven! How could Ibeen so selfish? I find myself on my hands and knees getting sick on the beach. The bile rising up in my throat like the red hot lance to my heart Ifeel at my actions, if only I could purge this guilt as easily. Buffy was in heaven, she had reached her reward; she was warm and safe and happy. The tears start again, but I'm too weak to get up and run so I slowly collapse onto my side.

 

'I was in heaven, and now I'm not, I was torn..'  

 

How could I have done that to my friend? How could I have been so arrogantas to assume that magical death equaled Hell? Why didn't I just trust in my craft enough to simply ASK where my best friend was, my love for her gave me the right to know.

 

'You didn't ask because you love her and you didn't want to live your life without her.' The voice in the back of my mind answers for me.

 

But that wasn't totally it. I answer the voice and now I'm getting really concerned for my sanity.

 

I felt her death! I felt the pain, and yes fear, she had at the moment her soul separated from her body. her body that fell a hundred feet - just like so much meat. Her body that the Powers that Be couldn't have lowered to the ground with some kind of dignity. Not let it drop, broken, and soiled, and..  

 

Lifeless!

 

The Powers That Be, or God, let his warrior die like that and I -- I had the power to change it, so I did!

 

I did without asking because I no longer believed in the Goddess or God, I just believed in me..

 

And now, it's too late. 

 

'I was in heaven, and now I'm not, I was torn..'   

 

She's here and so am I.  

 

And I might not know about God but there is one thing this little lapsed Jewish girl is sure of, you can't take your own life. Oh no! What if Buffy's planning to do that? No, she wouldn't, she's the Slayer and they fight to their last breath. except that's what Buffy did, last spring.

 

I would reverse the spell; only in my research last night I found out that once the Hitchhiker was dead the spell I did was permanent.  

 

I realized that my body was getting chilled from lying on the rough sand ofthe small beach. I don't know how long I had been there, but the lunchtime crowd had cleared the park.  

 

Thank God for the residents of Sunnydale extreme denial because not one of the people stopped to check on me as they left.

 

I slowly sit up thinking about how to help Buffy. I could kill her and thenshe would go back to heaven. I already have a curse on my soul for working the dark, who am I kidding, the Black Magic, no even that's not correct, Blood Magic to bring her back.  

 

I was hoping that by bringing back the warrior of the people it would bleach out the stain a little, and then future good deeds would wash it away.

 

But now it doesn't matter, I'm damned. Taking her life, a mercy killing atthat, wouldn't add to the damage.

 

I stand up with my mind made up. I will kill my best friend and then beg what Gods there may be for forgiveness and hopefully she will be accepted back into heaven.  

 

Oh man! What am I thinking? I fall back to my knees as the bile comes back, I have to swallow it down.  

 

No, no, don't think about killing your love, your friend, if you do then you'd never be able to do it. Stop thinking about never seeing Buffy again! Stop it! Now! Stand up, no it doesn't matter if your legs are wobbley, walk..  

 

This is just another.mental exercise. No, no crying. You caused this, youhave to fix it.

 

I start back for the house that I've shared with Dawn and Tara for the past5 months planning the murder of my best friend, a knife would be to painful, and hey, Slayer reflexes. Stabbing her in the back would be too et, tooBrutus?

 

How about a gun?

 

I've never used a gun. And I'd heard about people surviving even the worse wounds: shotgun blasts from point blank range that nearly cut them in half.. 

 

So a Slayer? Check gun off the list of 'How to murder your best friend.' 

 

I hear a crazed giggle and I look around to see where it's coming from, before I realize it's me. I have to clamp a hand over my mouth to make it stop. When I think I can continue, I start back down the street.

 

I could overdose her. I get lost in a fantasy of grinding up painkillers into her drink. She would just go to sleep and back to her reward. The trouble with that is it would take so many it would be all powdery pills and very little drink.

 

A bark of a laugh escapes before I can pull it back and make the thought goaway. And I have to use the hand again. I know I must look strange walking down the street with tears flowing down my face and a hand over my mouth.

 

Sunnydale: as long as I don't bite or threaten to kill anyone I'm safe withmy thoughts of.well.killing someone.

 

"That's just sick." I say out loud. "I'm sick!" and I finally get a stare from someone that I'm sharing the sidewalk with, and she hurries to cross the street. Good riddance. Leave!

 

"Hey," I shout and can't stop my words. "Buffy died for you! And do you thank her?" I look away from the person's back, a girl I think, as I watch her run into a nearby shop.  

 

The shop brings me up short because I realize that I'm back into the downtown section of Sunnydale and I don't want Tara or anyone else to see me. I don't want them to know I'm a cold-blooded murderer on top of being a dark witch. I slip into a nearby alley, it's a longer way back to the house, but I don't think anyone will see me.

 

As soon as I know I'm alone I continue my plotting.

 

The ideas come and go -- gun, knife, stake, sword, poison, drugs -- none ofthem I'm totally sure would work, or work quickly enough that she wouldn'tfeel too much pain.

 

Let's face it, trying to kill a Slayer just ain't that easy. I nearly barkanother laugh as I walk up the step to the house that I considered home for these past months.

 

"Hello, I'm home." I announced as I walked into the house hoping that no one will be there. I really don't want to explain either my tears or what Iheard this morning. When no one answers I think I'm safe.

 

It was still early for Dawn, but I pray that Buffy decided to walk to go pick her up. 

 

And at the thought of Dawn, her frantic face comes unbidden to my mind. I can hear the youngest Summer say clearly: "You can't bring her back and thentake her away again.." I stop dead in my tracks and I feel my heart seize.I realize that I could never kill Buffy. It was just a sick fantasy.

 

I feel the tears start again as I realize just how much pain I've caused. I want to turn around and run away. I don't deserve to breathe the same air as these people. Here I've spent the better part of an hour plotting my best friend's death! I can't kill her, I would never be able to, and even if I did, it would be like sticking the knife into Dawn, too.

 

I'm so ashamed.

 

'Stop it!' I order myself silently. I pause at the staircase and sit downon the bottom riser. 'You can feel sorry for yourself later, just think ofa way to help Buffy now.' 

 

'I need to check my books, maybe there is some kind of spell.' I start up the stairs intent on finding something that will help Buffy, when about half-way up a feeling -- that can only be described as agony -- hits me right between the eyes.  

 

I nearly double over from the sheer force of the emotion that's radiating down the hallway from. Buffy's room!

 

A sense of prescience fills me with dread, I know in my heart what Buffy's doing, and I'm as sure as anything in my life that if Buffy succeeds then it won't be Heaven she would find herself in.

 

I run the rest of the way up the stairs and fling open Buffy's bedroom doorto find..

 

. Buffy sitting on her bed with a razor blade poised over the major artery of her wrist and arm. We both stare in shock for a beat; Buffy's eyes looking exactly like the doe's that I slaughtered two days ago to bring her back. 

 

Then at the same time we break from our paralysis. The power rises up within me, I now know where it's coming from, but it doesn't matter! It never mattered! With a wave of my hand the razor blade flies out her fingers, cutting them deeply, and imbeds in the window frame.

 

"You have no right!" She screams jumping up, and the doe-eyed look is now one of murderous rage. Only the worst vamps earn this particular look of rage from the Slayer maybe Angelus. maybe the Master.  

 

The power is curling around my hands, crackling, I see the red and black forming and engulfing my arms. How dare that little girl challenge us! 

 

I throw my arm up in a stop motion and the mighty Slayer is thrown head-over-heels over the bed. I'm surprised, then frightened at the power that's filling me. But I'm mad too, I thought there was a chance Buffy might try to kill herself, I never really thought she would truly do it! That she would give up, again!

 

The Slayer is pulling herself up by using the bedpost for support. She's dazed, but I know from experience that this is actually when she's most dangerous. When she's a little dazed she's not in control of the Slayer as it fights to survive. I won't get another chance, power crackling between my fingers or not.

 

She just begins to face me when, again I lift my hand, only this time I useit as a focus point to direct my Will into her mind.. Sweat beads on her forehead has she resists my intrusion, so I smother it along with her consciousness.

 

She falls face forward onto her bed -- out.  

 

The power wants more, though. The power isn't finished, and I start feeling lightheaded and happy. A strange feeling of euphoria runs tingling through my body from my hands, the power just feels so good.. I sit down on thefloor laughing, I'm strong, I am the strongest person in this world!

 

'I was in heaven, and now I'm not, I was torn..'

 

Well, that's a downer. And I start to fight the power. It takes a while, but it retreats. For the time, I feel it, though. It's like a living entity, it's old and patient and now that it's awake, I will always have to be on guard against its seductive call.

 

I look up at my best friend and know I'm in over my head. Both with the power I can now summon with a careless thought, and how to help Buffy. I notice blood pooling around her hand where the razor blade cut her fingers..

 

Well one thing at a time.

 

I wrap a towel around her hand, then I tuck her in the bed. 

 

I go to Tara's and my room to get the phone; I have to call the Magic Box.. 

 

Its time to fess-up to my friends and let us figure out a way to keep Buffyalive. Because I know if the Slayer is going to let her commit suicide, then we have a long road ahead of us to keep her alive.

 

And -- I think I might need help--too.

 

End of Part Two

 

 

 

TBC

 

 

 

Bright Blessings,

 

Ivy

 

 

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