Author's Chapter Notes:
Illryia's last line is from the play "A Raisin in the Sun." I don't it or the characters in this story.
~~Something~~


The alley was dark and dank, and the ripe smell of death assaulted my senses as my eyes adjusted to the sight of the bare concrete that had been broken in many different places, like it too had died fighting evil. I don’t know why I was surprised by this. Maybe in my mind I had built up this place so much that I set myself up for a disappointment. I think I needed the comfort in imaging the place where he had fallen for the last time had been this big heroic scenery where the light never reached and the rain always poured. Maybe it gave me something to hold on to; Knowing that he had went down in some wild blaze of glory and the whole world would erect some stature in his honor.

To look upon it now, and just see some old dirty alley full of rats and garage- It almost made me choke. Maybe I did. At this point I don’t think I would have noticed anyway.

It was like the world didn’t care. The sun still shone, and the people still walked by, the children still played and laughed. How could anyone just go on and laugh? After everything? He was gone. Had gone down a hero for a second time saving this sorry world and nobody cared.

Nobody but me.

Weeks had pasted since Angel and the strange blue girl showed up on my doorstep, so forthcoming about information I needed to hear, but prefered I didn’t. Illyria. That was her name. Seemed to be the only friend I had these days. I almost laugh at this, but then remember where I am, and find it rather disrespectful.

Yeah, so I ditched her sister and friends to fly half way ‘round the world to make nice with an ex-god king that seemed to think she could still conquer…everything. What of it? I am a free woman now. No more battles to fight, vampires to dust, Immortals to grate on your last nerve…Speaking of, I was quite glad I had managed nip that little disaster-in-the-making before things got outta hand. Really, who could be in a relationship with somebody who had to excuse himself every five minutes to check himself out in a mirror-Which, by the way, was way wiggy, considering he was a vampire.

Nowadays though, Illyria seemed to be the only one I could relate to. She too knew what it was like to be in control of everything, and one day have it swept out from under you. Illyria seemed to think that she served to no purpose now that she was no longer a God, nor the companion of one ex-watcher. That was fine with me. I understood. I really have no purpose to serve these days either, what with not having a calling an’ all. This time I do laugh, and it sounds foreign and extremely bitter to my ears.

I tilt my head back to catch sight of the stars above me. This is more like it. No chipped paint of my Italian apartment, which now belonged to Dawn and Andrew, just wide open spaces. A sad smile tugs the corners of my lips at this. I remember that song somewhere. Oh yes, just the other day I had caught Illyria humming it under to breath. When I questioned her about it, she gave me some indignant reply about collapsing brains and electrical spasms channeling into her function system. Whatever. I wasn’t really important to me.

These days, nothing seems to be important anymore.

When I reach the old fence, I stop to stand directly in front of it, letting my fingers intertwine with the cold metal, as if trying to rub something from that night onto my skin, to imprint in my memory forever. I can’t though, so I let my grasp turn limp and my fingers slide away as my hands fall to my sides. I waited for the tears to come.

Somehow they never did though, and I was left waiting for an absolution that seemed forever out of my reach.

Sometimes I miss Anya. I often find myself wondering if she would grant me a wish. Maybe she could bring him back to me. I am the wronged party after all. I think I deserve one wish. Of course, I probably already got it when I made that drunken wish that one night in Rome to that friendly, but incredible ripe smelling vengeance demon. Closing my eyes, I think hard, trying to recall the date and time that I had let the slurred “I wish he were alive again, and not down at the bottom of the Hellmouth” pass my numb lips.

I run a hand through my matted hair, sighing in frustration. It had been…nineteen days. Nineteen days after she had left him to die alone in the Hellmouth-to save the world. It seemed like a lifetime ago now, but still my heart ached. And I frown to myself when I realize it probably always would.

Suddenly the earth rumbles and a loud rushing wind hits my body from behind. I close my eyes. I turn slowly, not really knowing what I expect to find standing there.

“Slayer.” I frown.

“Illyria? Where the hell did you come from?”

She cocked her head to the side, and I felt like smacking her to make it go straight again. “I have persuaded the Powers That Be to let me return to my previous state as a reward for helping you find your way once more.”

I was mad now. “Find my way? Illyria I was never lost. You can’t find your way again unless you were lost to begin with, and I was not lost.”

Still the Slayer.

Her head went back to it’s right position and I left my eyes in narrow slits.

“Lost you were, Slayer. And my job it was to put you on your destined path.”

I rolled my eyes. “Stop talking backwards, Yoda!”

She looked utterly confused by my cultural reference, and again the urge to smack her raged inside me.

“I cannot acquire a suitable response to your words.”

“Never mind.” I said, turning back to the fence, to grasp at the cold chains in a last ditch effort to connect with him once more. I desperately wanted to feel what he felt that night. I wanted to think the same thought that ran through his mind right before he fell. I wanted to feel his pain-even if it was just to remind me that I was still alive.

“The Powers have seen fit to bestow a gift upon me. I now have a purpose. Wesley guided me, and that became his purpose. Now I have acquired the same fate. I must guide you, Slayer.”

The way she said the words, made me feel bad for her slightly. She had such determination. I hated to be the one to put an end to her dreams.

“I don’t need to be guided, Illyria. I can find my way to misery all my m’self.”

“But it is my duty.”

I shook my head, at both her words and my realization that there was nothing left. I felt like crying, or dying. Maybe both.

“What are you going to guide me to, Illyria? There’s nothing left.” I let my head fall forward, the coolness of the fence chilling my forehead.

“There is always something left to love.” She told me.

I turned to look at her slowly, as if seeing her for the first time. Her icy blue eyes bore into mine, and I could almost see something akin to hope reflecting back into my eyes.

“Wow.” I whispered, dazed. “You really can still be surprised.”

My eyes glazed over, and I was relieved to feel the tears.


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