[Reviews - 26]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 293 times

- Text Size +




Willow knocked on the door a short time later, whispering to Spike as she entered. He asked about Oz, to which she explained that he had sustained a few minor injuries in the fight with Angelus and Drusilla, but was now asleep in bed.

Buffy had refused to take any powders or drinks offered to her, eyes narrowing in defiance at the suggestion. She didn't want to take anything that would put her to sleep or want her body to succumb to the clouded haze and heavy limbs that she knew the herbs would bring. Spike had tried his best to get her to take it as her tears still fell, knowing the exhaustion she was feeling, but unable to succumb to sleep. Buffy had shaken her head again, pushing away the mug in which he offered her and curled back in on herself. He thanked Willow for the powders, placing the glass and remainder of the herbs at the end of their bed within reach if Buffy should change her mind, but knew with her stubbornness that that was unlikely to happen.

Spike was worried about her. Buffy could tell from his constant glances and small sighs, but was glad that he had finally fallen asleep a short while ago. Her mind, however, wouldn't switch off. She kept running the evening's events through her head over and over again trying to see if she could have done things differently.

If she had only moved faster or looked up sooner things could have been different.

Her thoughts were mere fantasies, knowing deep down that nothing she did or could have done would ever change the outcome.

Her father was still dead.

She couldn't sleep, limbs restless as she tossed and turned in bed, but careful not to wake her mate who slept silently beside her. She wasn't ready to face him yet. She didn't want to see the sympathy in his eyes or more of the worried glances he had sent her since it had happened.

Buffy wanted to scream her rage to the heavens for what had been taken from her. She wanted to punch and kick anything that came within arms reach. She wanted to cry, but her eyes were sore and stinging from the buckets of tears that she had already shed. She wanted her father to wrap his arms around her just one last time.

Above all else, she wanted someone to take away her pain. She would do anything to alleviate the utter devastation and emptiness she was feeling right now.

With a tight chest, Buffy's feet slipped her feet onto the cool floor, silently making her way to the small chest in the corner of the room that her clothes were in. Her fingers grasped onto the cool burgundy leather of the outfit she was searching for, pulling it up and over her legs and hips before whispering her command into the darkness.

"Induendum vestes."

The suit tightened itself around her body within moments.

She had made up her mind the second she had caught a glimpse of Angelus and Drusilla's fleeing backs as they ran from the scene, her vision skewed and sideways as she fell to the snow.

If she survived, Angelus and Drusilla would suffer a fate worse than death.

Her eyes drifted to the sleeping form of her mate and Buffy made the decision to put on a gown over the top of her suit. Her hair was a matted mess, the gowns clasps catching in the tangled knots as the skirts fell to the floor. She pulled her hair free, slipping her arms through the long sleeves and pulling at the wrists to cover the leather that was exposed.

By putting the gown over her fighting gear she drew less attention to herself which would ultimately allow to her to hopefully slip away unnoticed. She knew the others were worried about her and knew Spike could feel her thoughts jumping from one extreme to the next which is why she had closed their link. Her decision had already been made.

Angelus needed to die and she was going to be the one to do it.

As if the suit knew what her mind commanded, the leather bindings around her fingers began to unwind, the gloves opening and blending back into the leather around her arms. At first glance it looked as if her arms were simply covered by the material of her gown, but she knew better.

With the suit on she felt safe, protected... guarded.

Buffy's features changed, her mouth forming a determined line. She was not going to sit around idle waiting for Angelus to attack again.

No.

She was once and for all going to end his existence and that of his insane mate.

Spike began to stir, his body turning in the bed to seek out her warmth. His arms grabbed two handfuls of the pillows she had been pressed against, nuzzling his head into them while breathing in her scent. A small smile graced her face before tears came to her eyes.

This was not his fight.

It was hers.

Angelus and Drusilla had taken everything from her, leaving her with nothing left in this world to hold onto. Everything that she had cherished had been burnt to the ground, while everyone she had ever loved had been killed or taken before her eyes.

Everyone she loved died because of her.

She couldn't ask the people; the people she called family, to fight her battles for her.

"No more death."

She whispered, walking into the dimly lit hallway and silently closing the door behind her. She found herself pausing at the door to the room her father was in a few steps late, her fingers shaking above the handle in hesitation.

Tears instantly begun falling down her cheeks when her eyes caught site of her father's body. He was in the center of the bed, lying with his arms folded neatly across his chest. He was so thin. Frail. Broken.

"I'm so sorry..."

A small sob escaped her, bending to sit on the bed next to him. Her small hand came to rest over his cool fingers as her eyes looked over his body. Angelus and Drusilla had destroyed any and all parts of him that they could see. He was a mere echo of the man who had been her father. His arms were covered in bite marks and bruises, his neck purple and blue. Markings she recognized as fingers. He had been strangled. His limb; she knew without looking, would be covered in scars of wounds old healing.

"Why did you give it to me?" Slipping the gold band from her finger as she cried, Buffy's face crumbled. "Why didn't you use it on yourself?"

Placing the gold ring on one of his figures she waited with wide eyes for a miracle to happen. When nothing happened she crumbled into a fresh set of tears, her head falling against the two hands that lay across his chest. Buffy could feel the ribs poking through his chest, his body so frail and malnourished.

His arms would never again wrap her in his warm embrace.

His breath would never again whisper her name.

"Why couldn't it have been me?"

She lay curled up against his body, hearing the faint footsteps of someone walking in the hallway moments later. The footfalls were light, not a male presence and she closed her eyes, shoulders tense as she waited for the person to pass by the door.

"A naoidhean bhig, cluinn mo ghuth..."

Aileen's soft whispered voice echoed down the hallway as she sang, rocking the tiny babe in her arms back and forth. The air in the hallway was chilly and she dared not take the restless bairne back into her own room, not with Deorsa and her other children fast asleep. Her eyes caught sight of the distant glow of a fire from within the crack of an open doorway and made her way towards it.

"Mise ri d' thaobh, O mhaighdean bhan..."

Seeing Buffy curled up against the deceased form of her father stopped Aileen in her steps, eyes slightly startled at the site.

"It's nae good tae sleep above the covers lass."

Aileen spoke after a few moments, eyes softening after Buffy's tear streaked face met her own.

"I needed to see him. He-"

"I ken ye. I dinnae know what I'd do if mo chridhe ever... I ken ye." She nodded her understanding and slipped the blanket from her shoulders, moving to drop it over Buffy's form.

"No! You need it more than I do."

"I'm nae leaving ye alone in this state lassie. I'll warm the fire."

Buffy sat up when she saw Aileen bending down, arms outstretched and waiting for her to take the child from her arms. Her eyes were wide with alarm when Aileen stepped away, muscles relaxing only when she saw that she was moving towards the fireplace to put a few more logs in it.

"My mother used tae sing tae me as a wee bairne when I couldnae sleep. It's the rocking motion tae, I think that relaxes them so." She took her child from Buffy's arms a few moments late, smiling as she ran a gentle hand through the soft red curls on her head.

"My father used to read to me..."

"Well I dinnae have any books on me, but I dinnae mind singing if it will help ye..."

"What do you sing about? I don't understand your-"

"Gaelic... Mo chridhe and I speak gaelic."

"What does mo chridhe mean?" Buffy did her best to pronounce the words.

"My love..."

"It's a beautiful language."

" 'Tis." Aileen agreed, rocking from side to side in an effort to calm the babe in her arms whose eyes were wide open. "The song you heard is about a mhaighdean, eh... a maiden. Noble and fair is she." Her eyes drifted down to her child, a wistful smile forming on her face.

"A naoidhean bhig, cluinn mo ghuth
Mise ri d' thaobh, O mhaighdean bhan
Ar righinn oig, fas as faic
Do thir, dileas fhein
A ghrian a's a ghealaich, stuir sinn
Gu uair ar cliu s ar gloire
Naoidhean bhig, ar righinn og
Mhaighdean uashaill bhan..."

Little Baby Hear My Voice
I'm Beside You O Maiden Fair
Our Young Lady Grow And See
Your Land Your Own Faithful Land
Sun And Moon Guide Us
To The Hour Of Our Glory And Honour
Little Baby Our Young Lady

Buffy tried to keep her eyes open as Aileen sang, knowing that daylight wasn't far away and that she needed to go, but the soft tones of her voice as it echoed off the walls of the room coupled with the crackling from the fire as the logs burned pulled her into a calm and deep slumber.

Aileen stroked the soft red curls on her child's head, smiling as her defiant little eyes began to drift lower and lower. She sat in the chair next to the fire, eyes casting a glance at Buffy who was curled up in the blanket on the bed, her hand touching the shoulder of her deceased father.

"Rest now my wee mhaighdean."

In the dark barely-lit library, Giles sat with sad eyes staring at the items strewn across his desk. The brown satchel his friend had called to him through blood magic rest in the center of the mess.

Lifting his glass to his lips a lone tear fell from his eyes.

"To you, my dear friend."

Half of his bottle was gone, the drink doing little to ease the pain and constriction he felt within his chest. He hadn't bothered to change clothes after leaving Hank on the bed, body still covered in the blood from the event. Before him on his desk, lay the last remnants of a secret extremely well hidden. A secret which Hank and protected with his life and Giles was determined to see that whatever the items were, he too would see that they never got into the wrong hands.

Along with the ring, which Giles knew to be on Buffy's finger, was a bundle or parchments and small vials. The bag held other knick-knack's which looked to be of little value to him, but he would have to ask Buffy in the morning if she recognized anything.

"That poor girl..."

His eyes closed, remembering the scream that had torn out from Buffy's lips when she realized her father was gone. No child should ever have to watch a parent die.

Especially a death like Hanks.

Sometimes the world was cruel.


Chapter End Notes:
So the song Aileen sings in this chapter was taken from the movie Brave called: Noble Maiden Fair (A Mhaighdean Bhan Uasal) and this is a link if you want to go and hear it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wqOmlipOGe0



You must login (register) to review.