Endowed
Prologue - Death Is Her Gift



Buffy turned back around to face Dawn as the dark haired girl continued staring at the portal. Tears welled up in Dawn’s eyes.

“I'm sorry.” She told her sister.

“It doesn't matter.”

Dawn tried to run past Buffy but was stopped when a pair of hands grabbed her. Dawn looked up into Buffy’s worried face.
“What are you doing?” Buffy asked sternly, but she couldn’t help the worry from showing.

“I have to jump. The energy…”

“It'll kill you.”

“I know.” Dawn replied softly, and Buffy stared at her, fear gripping her heart. “Buffy, I know about the ritual. I have to stop it.”

“No.”

The tower shook underneath them, making them both stumble.

“I have to. Look at what's happening.”

More lightning crackled, even larger than before. Buffy looked up as a huge dragon appeared from the portal and buzzed the tower, flying away as they watched.

“Buffy, you have to let me go. Blood starts it, and until the blood stops flowing, it'll never stop.” Buffy stared at Dawn in anguish. Dawn continued tearfully. “You know you have to let me. It has to have the blood.”

Realization sank into Buffy’s overloaded brain, and Dawn noticed the widening of Buffy’s eyes. For her inner eye, Buffy saw Spike as he looked at her fatally.

“Cause it's always got to be blood.”

Her memory flashed back to the hospital, and the image of herself, putting her hand to her wound, before pressing it against Dawn's bloody hand.

“It's Summers blood. It's just like mine.” She heard herself say out loud. She remembered what she had said only a while before, as memories continued to flash through her brain.

“She's me. The monks made her out of me.”

“Death is your gift.” The first slayer had told her.

“Death...” she mumbled, and Dawn’s face expression turned anxious. Buffy frowned and turned around slowly. She looked out where the platform extended into the air. In the distance, holes seemed to be opening in the sky. The sky was growing lighter as the sun was trying to rise.

A look of peace washed over Buffy’s features. She turned back to Dawn, who stared at her, wide-eyed.

“Buffy... no!”

“Dawnie, I have to.”

“No!”

“Listen to me. Please, there's not a lot of time, listen.”

Buffy held Dawn by the upper arms as she continued her speech. Dawn began to cry as lightning continued to crackle behind them. Buffy stroked the side of Dawn's face before she kissed her on the cheek. Dawn only continued to cry.

Buffy turned. Everything seemed to be happening in slow-motion, as she ran down the platform. Dawn stood back, crying, knowing there was nothing that could be done now.

Buffy swan-dived off the end of the platform, and into the portal.

Dawn could only watch, sobbing as Buffy fell into the portal and hung there motionless, expressions of pain contorting her features.

“Dawn, listen to me. Listen.” Echoed in the mind of the teenager, as she stood back alone. Sobs were wrecking her body. “I love you. I will always love you. But this is the work that I have to do.”

The portal shrank to nothingness and disappeared. The sun began to rise.

Willow and Tara, holding each other up, walked forward, Giles behind them. Xander was holding Anya in his arms as they all walked forward, staring at the sight in front of them.

“Tell Giles ... tell Giles I figured it out. And, and I'm okay.”

Buffy's lifeless body was lying amid the debris. In the background Spike was trying to come forward, falling to the ground as the sunlight hit him. His face was bloodied.

Tara held on to her girlfriend as Willow began to cry.

“And give my love to my friends.”

Anya lowered her head to Xander's shoulder, as they both looked at Buffy.

“You have to take care of them now.”

Giles looked equally sad, if not crushed, by the sight of his slayer, the daughter of his heart, lying dead on the pavement.

“You have to take care of each other.”

Giles began to cry.

Spike was sobbing where he sat back in the shadow, his hands covering his face as he gave himself up to the pain.

“You have to be strong.”

Dawn slowly descended the stairs, holding her sides. She spotted the others.

“Dawn, the hardest thing in this world... is to live in it.”

She began to cry again. The image of her sister was still clear in her memory.

“Be brave. Live. For me!”



The girl’s eyes fluttered open to look up into four worried and excited faces, warily. She shot up into a sitting position, but was pushed back softly, into a cushion that was immediately placed behind her back. Her head spun around, scanning the room that was unnervingly foreign to her.

“Now there, miss. I’d want to slow down if I were you; your fever is running a steady 98 degrees.” One nurse smiled at her warmly, before turning to one of the younger ladies. “I think it will be in order to fix a plate of those potatoes we served this afternoon, and put a piece of chicken on the heat as well. This girl is but a slip of a thing. She hasn’t had solid food in three days, and who knows how long before Mr. Hayden brought her in. Shoo now.”

Two of the nurses hurried out of the room to fix their patient a meal, as the first turned around to face her again.

“Alright miss, dinner will arrive shortly. I am Nurse Spencer, but you can call me Marjorie. I apologise for having to intrude on your healing, but I need to ask you a few questions.” The nurse looked her in the eyes and she nodded, in a confused manner. “Alright, firstly I need to know if you remember anything, or know where you are.”

The girl thought for a second. She then shook her head slowly, and earned a sympathetic glance from Marjorie.

“I’m sorry darling. Do you at least remember your name?” she asked, and received a confirming nod. “Well?”

“Buffy… my name is Buffy Summers.” She croaked, her voice hoarse from lack of use. Just then, the dinner arrived and a tray was sat in front of Buffy in the bed. She looked up at Marjorie, who seemed to be the head nurse.

“It’s alright, you can eat.” She told the girl. “Buffy… that’s an unusual name. What about your date of birth?”

“January 19th.” Buffy told her. She was scared. Everything seemed so foreign to her, and she had to concentrate hard just to remember her name. When she closed her eyes, familiar faces appeared before her, a grown woman with light honey-brown hair and a friendly smile, a young girl with long dark hair, a grave-faced man with glasses, a redhead smiling shyly, a dark-haired boy wearing a goofy grin, a broad man with dark hair and sad eyes, a…

“What else do you remember?” Marjorie asked, pulling Buffy out of her reverie.

“I-I don’t remember anything.” She cried hopelessly, tears welling up in her eyes. “There are… faces? But I don’t know their names, I don’t remember.” Marjorie shook her head regretfully, and put a hand on Buffy’s shoulder.

“Well, I can tell you that you are in the casualty ward of Sunnydale. You have been here for three days, since Mr. Hayden found you in his fields and brought you in. No one knows how you ended up there, but besides a fever there should be nothing wrong with you. How do you feel?”

“Tired, hungry. I’m a little cold…” Buffy answered insecurely. She didn’t like what the nurse was telling her. She slowly ate her food. The petroleum lamps set up around the ward flickered involuntary as a light draught drew through the room. She shuddered inwardly and turned to face Marjorie. “I’m kinda embarrassed to ask this, but… what year are we in?”

“Oh you poor thing. The year is 1878, and the date is April 27th.” Buffy nodded, but stared blankly ahead of her as she received this piece of information. Nurse Spencer walked away from her to see one of the other patients who was shaking violently in his sleep in one of the other cots.


The girl with the golden hair was the talk of the town, and had been since three days ago when she had been carried into the casualty ward by Mr. Hayden. He had found her lying naked and freezing just by the fringe of his fields, and he suspected she had been attacked and left there by some of the trouble-makers that he knew travelled around in the area. He had wrapped her in a blanket and had immediately brought her to the hospital.

No one had seen the girl before, and there were no clever theories on how she had come to lie in Mr. Hayden’s field.


When Buffy awoke the next morning, it was to see a new face sitting beside her cot, smiling down at her. When she woke up he quickly took off his hat and introduced himself as Mr. Charles Hayden. Nurse Spencer came over when she noticed that the girl was up.

“Mr. Hayden has come to see about you every day Miss Summers; he’s been very persistent in looking out for you.” She told Buffy, who smiled slightly. The man seemed to genuinely have worried about her health, and she nodded at him in appreciation. He smiled back, but was then puffed back by Marjorie. “We’ll have to take your temperature dear, see if your fever is gone.”

It almost was, and Buffy had to admit she felt better than she had the night before. But with the fever retreating, more pressing matters came to the front of her mind, as for example the one of what she was going to do once she would be out of the ward, where she would go and how she would earn her living. There were so many questions surging around inside her skull. How had she gotten here? Who did the faces she kept seeing in her head belong to? Who was she?!

Endowed
Chapter I - The Slayer




She looked up at the display window, and smiled when she read the sign. She had finally found what she was after.

“Boat departures for France and England
Monday, noon
Thursday and Friday, 2 o’clock in the post-meridiem
Tickets are available at the cash register”


F L A S H B A C K
“Do you need a drink Miss Summers?” one of the younger nurses asked her. Buffy nodded gratefully and sent her a small smile. The nurse smiled back and poured Buffy a glass of water. She was just about to take it, when…

A loud bang crackled through the casualty ward.

Shrieks of shock and fright sounded throughout the large room as three men entered, guns held high and ready and murderous expressions on their faces.

Raiding every bottle of the cleansing spirits from the supplies cabinet and ripping down the church bush from the wall, emptying its contents into a sack one of them carried over his shoulder, the men turned to exit when the doctor suddenly entered the ward. Seeing the raiders he tried fighting them, but he was outnumbered and was quickly loosing both the fight and his consciousness.

Buffy didn’t have time to think. She shot out of bed and was by the fighting men in an instant. Grabbing hold of the neck of the first one, she held him away while fighting the other two with her free hand. She broke the nose of one of them, and kicked the other in the crotch, making them both crumble to the floor, before she grabbed the head of the first and brought it down while thrusting her knee upwards and it connected with his face, knocking him unconscious. Panting slightly she stood towering over the cowering men, who quickly let go of their raid-sack and hurried out, leaving the unconscious man behind to fend for himself.

Buffy turned around, noticing the stares of the other occupants of the ward. She could feel adrenaline pumping through her veins with her blood, and a strange throbbing in her womb that she was sure was of the shameful variety.

An hour later she was let out of the ward, followed by fearful eyes and scared whispers.

E N D of F L A S H B A C K


Buffy drew a deep sigh as the boat rocked violently on the untamed waves of the English Channel. They would dock in Brighton in about a day, having travelled for the better part of a month. She closed her eyes, fighting the nausea that rose in her.


F L A S H B A C K
“Miss Summers, I’m glad I found you.”

Buffy was surprised to hear the familiar voice of Mr. Hayden behind her as she stood on the top of a hill, looking down over Sunnydale. She had been let out of the ward with one plain, nature white dress in exchange for the dreadful hospital gown she had worn while lying sick. She turned around slowly to meet his eyes.

“Mr. Hayden.” she stated, and bowed her head respectfully. Was he going to give her the same condemnatory looks they had in the ward? Something told her he wouldn’t care about the incident in the hospital, but she was not going to get her hopes up only to get them quashed not a minute later. But she didn’t need to worry; Mr. Hayden only cocked his head to the side and smiled at her compassionately. He stood watching her for a while, and the softness of his gaze made her heart ache for the care she had been denied at the ward. The realisation had hit her hard, that she had nowhere to go and no one to turn to for help. She had neither money nor connections, at least none she knew of. When Mr. Hayden opened his arms, inviting her to seek comfort in his embrace, she couldn’t hold her tears back any longer.

“Ssh, child. It’s going to be alright, I promise you. Don’t worry, we’ll figure out what to do.”

He had heard of the attempted robbery and had also been informed of Buffy’s actions, which were still looked on as frightening and deeply un-ladylike, even if they had saved the doctor’s life and prevented the robbers in getting away with their raid. He had only heard one person talk about anything similar, and up until now he had been absolutely certain that it was a myth. But now he was convinced. He was standing on the mouth of hell, embracing The Vampire Slayer!

E N D of F L A S H B A C K


After arriving in Brighton early in the morning, Buffy had managed to find a couple to share a cab with. The carriage rides were expensive, even if it was just inside the borders of the city, and she was going all the way to London. Fortunately there had been a newlywed couple on the boat, who were going to London as well, and they had agreed to split the cost between them.

The young woman was about Buffy’s age, and the man 6 years older. Their names were George and Sarah Lewis. When they arrived at an inn the driver had recommended for Buffy they agreed to meet again, and Buffy got their address.

“Please call on us whenever you can dear Buffy. It would be such a pleasure to hear about all your impressions and experiences here.” Sarah told her warmly, and Buffy smiled happily at them both before exiting the carriage. She paid the driver her share of the expense, and waved as they drove away. She then took her small luggage box and entered the small inn. Right inside was a typical pub area, with a bar and several tables scattered here and there around the room. The room itself was warm and inviting, dark tree sorts used for the supporting structure of the building, and as well for the bar and inventory. The room smelled of smoke, both from pipes and from a fireplace in the far end, and of food and beer. Buffy walked up to the bar, and the barman smiled warmly at her.

“How can I help you miss?” he asked in a low grumbly voice, but the warmth behind it was unmistakeable. Buffy smiled back, and when she asked for a single room she was immediately handed a key. The large man stepped out from behind the bar and held out his arm, indicating the stairs behind Buffy. “Ladies first.”

She walked up the stairs, and he showed her to the door of her room. She stepped inside, and was met with the same warm and inviting feeling that surrounded the bar, but without the smell. She smiled at the barman, who bowed his head courtly and stepped in to stoke a fire in the fireplace. The room was soon warm, as the flames danced merrily around the wood giving off a pleasant light and smell, making Buffy feel instantly at home. She smiled broadly at the barman, who had pulled out a small brown book from a pocket in his apron.

“I’m going to need your name Miss.” he told her, as he reciprocated her smile.

“Buffy Summers.” she answered, and he scribbled it down along with the room number and date. He then nodded, and looked up again.

“I’m Thomas. If you have any questions you can always come to me or my wife Anna. The room is 5£ á night, but we’ll settle the cost when you check out. I’ll have Anna bring you a pot of tea, on the house, you look tired.”

“Thank you so much. I might need some directions around town in the morning, but for tonight all I need is a bath and rest.” Thomas nodded, and bowed his head again when he stepped out of the room and closed the door.

Within the hour, water for a bath had been sent up and a tray with a teapot and a few crackers. Buffy had enjoyed both and now lay snuggled in bed. She relished in the fact that she wasn’t lying in a rocking boat in the middle of the sea, but in a still bed, in a house on the ground! She thought about what she was going to do the following day. She had an address for a Mr. Theodor Flemings, and she knew to call on him. Mr. Hayden had told her so many things that could explain her situation, and she desperately clung to his theories. They were the only link to a life she had forgotten.

She was supposedly a Slayer, chosen from birth to fight the forces of darkness. Buffy knew she should have been frightened, or even just surprised to learn about the creature who roamed in the night. Strangely, she was not. It felt as if she already knew this, which also made her so apt to accept the explanation Mr. Hayden had come up with. She had a feeling she had gone through it before!


F L A S H B A C K
“Miss Summers, I have to tell you something and I need you to listen. I think I know who you are, and I believe I know the secret behind the powers you demonstrated earlier.”

Buffy felt a shiver of excitement run through her, and slowly raised her eyes to meet his. His gaze was steady, but stiff, as if he were about to tell her something very grave.

“This town once had a visitor. He claimed that Sunnydale was situated upon the mouth of hell, as he called it. The seal of the gates themselves should be hidden underneath the very core of the city, he said. No one believed him of course, but I was a young man, and interested in a good story so I invited him to stay with me. He told me tales, Miss Summers, of grim creatures. Vampires. Soulless and evil creatures who take the appearance of humans. And he told me about a girl, a chosen one. ‘One girl in all the world,’ he said ‘she alone will stand against the forces of darkness. She is The Slayer.’” Mr. Hayden’s face was pale as he lifted his eyes to the ceiling. Buffy sank down the lump in her throat, as she felt she had heard this before.

“I’m her!” she said, more a statement than a question. Mr. Hayden nodded.

“I believe you are. I never believed him when he was here, but I’m certain now. The disappearances and odd deaths around here have not been coincidental after all.” he muttered grimly. He cleared his throat, and spoke again, louder this time. “I don’t know more than what he told me. If you’re going to get the answers you deserve you must seek him out yourself. I have his address, and the name of an organisation that may be able to help you. But you’ll need to go to London.” Buffy nodded, determination visible in her eyes.

“I’ll do whatever it takes!”
E N D of F L A S H B A C K


She nodded to herself. Tomorrow she would seek out Theodor Flemings, and she would not give up until she had the answers she searched.

She felt her eyelids grow heavy, and was soon asleep.