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Chapter 37 – A Father’s Legacy


“She hated being pregnant, you know,” Angelus said, walking around Buffy in a slow circle, watching as her eyes followed his every move, wisely not trusting him.

“Yeah, well, judging from the fact that she had to kill herself to have me, I didn’t expect the pregnancy was all roses and puppies,” Buffy replied, trying not to show how affected she was by this conversation.

“She hated you,” he said with a wicked gleam in his eye, seeing her chin tremble slightly. “Everything about you, from the way you squirmed around inside of her until the time she went into labor. Until finally, she just…jammed a stake in her own heart so she would never have to look at your face. Kind of makes you ache inside, doesn’t it?” he asked in a soft voice, bending down to look into her eyes.

“No,” she replied softly, tilting her head and staring at a spot over his shoulder as if she was thinking of something instead of trying to hold back her tears. “You know what I am?” she asked, turning her attention back to him. “Bored.”

Throwing her fist toward his face, Buffy was moderately surprised when he rolled his shoulder, practically sending her crashing into him with the momentum of not connecting with the punch. Catching herself before she was in a vulnerable position, she quickly angled her arm, letting her elbow smash into his temple in a forceful blow, knocking him to the ground.

Slamming her foot into his face, Buffy breathed a sigh of relief when he collapsed on the ground, unconscious.

Temporarily debating with herself about whether or not she should attempt to tie him up or take him with her, Buffy bit her lip before looking toward the exit of the building.

“No,” she muttered, glancing at Angelus one more time before running through the warehouse. “I’m not one of those idiot girls from a horror movie who doesn’t know the danger she’s in.”

Slamming through the door, Buffy didn’t bother to stop to get her bearings. She knew Angelus would be able to track her, and she wasn’t about to risk letting him get close to her.

* * * * *

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but you’re bloody well going to help me find her! Do a fucking locator spell or something! I don’t care, just find her!”

Spike’s frantic voice traveled toward her before she even entered the hotel. It was nearly sunrise by the time she’d made her way back to the Hyperion, and Buffy was exhausted from running the entire way.

“Spike, listen to me, if you would just calm down, we’d…”

Trailing off when she heard the doors open, Cordelia turned and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Buffy practically fly through. Spike met her halfway, lifting her into his arms and squeezing her with his full strength. Closing his eyes and breathing deep as he reassured himself that she was alright, he didn’t bother to loosen his hold on her.

Buffy clung to him with equal strength, letting the tears spill free as she squeezed her eyes shut, burying her face in his neck and sobbing as the events of the night finally caught up with her.

Loosening his hold on her so that he was no longer crushing her, Spike pulled back to nuzzle the mark on her neck, doing what he could to settle her down through his touch. He didn’t know where she was or who she was with, but the distress that he was feeling from her was practically knocking him over.

“Calm down, baby,” he whispered, kissing his mark on her neck, ignoring the other people in the room as he attempted to calm her. He was terrified of what could have happened to her, but the fact that she was in his arms was enough to keep his questions silent until he made sure she was okay. “You’re safe.”

Taking a shuddering breath, Buffy slowly pulled back to look up at him with wide eyes. The fear was evident in her gaze, causing more fear to pass through to Spike. Cupping her face in his hands, he tenderly smiled down at her, not willing to let her know how worried he was as he brushed a tear away with his thumb. Watching her chin tremble, he briefly closed his eyes before offering her a tentative smile, needing to stay strong for her.

“What happened, luv?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her, never breaking contact for fear that one of them would collapse as the stress of the day caught up with them.

“Angelus,” she whispered, glancing over at Wesley and Cordelia, feeling a shudder pass through Spike and into her. “He’s…I don’t know what happened, but…”

“He’s back,” Wesley said, swallowing hard as he looked down at the floor as everyone sat in stunned silence.

Pulling Buffy closer to him, Spike gritted his teeth, turning to look at the other man with narrowed eyes. “And why don’t you sound surprised, mate?” he asked, feeling Buffy snuggle closer to him, seeking the comfort that only he could give her.

Slowly rubbing his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose, Wes disappeared into his office.

Clenching his jaw, Spike took a deep breath before turning back to the woman in his arms. “Are you alright?” he asked, studying Buffy, stretching out his senses to make sure she wasn’t injured, other than the dark bruise on her cheek.

“Yeah,” she whispered with a hesitant nod. “Just a little shaken up. He’s, um…he’s not the best company.”

“No,” Spike agreed, glanced at the door of the office and seeing Wesley reappear with an old piece of parchment. “He’s not.”

“This is why,” Wes said in a soft voice, seeing Buffy turn her eyes to his.

“What is it?” she asked, never making a move to leave Spike’s embrace.

“A prophecy,” he said softly, obviously not wanting to tell her what this particular prophecy entailed.

“Of course it is,” she replied with a sardonic laugh. “I mean, why wouldn’t it be, right? I am the daughter of prophecy, after all.”

Cringing at the sarcasm-laced words, Wesley nodded. “Quite literally, actually.”

Pulling away from Spike but keeping his hand firmly locked with hers, Buffy stared at the other man in confusion. “What do you mean?” she asked softly.

“You are, literally, the daughter of prophecy,” he muttered, unable to look at her as he held up the piece of paper. “This prophecy. You’re his daughter.”

“The prophecy itself is about Angel,” Spike muttered, drawing his eyebrows together in confusion. “What’s it say?” he asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice for Buffy’s sake.

“That the daughter will kill the father,” Wesley said, never looking up from the scroll he was holding, unwilling to see the expression on the young woman’s face. “It’s cryptic, at best, but we do know that Buffy will have to kill him.”

Frantically looking around the room, Buffy took in the different expression on everyone’s faces. Cordelia’s sadness, Wesley’s indifference, Spike’s compassion as his eyes met hers. She quickly looked away, knowing that she would crack under the force of her emotions if she continued to look at him.

“That’s what he was talking about,” she murmured, closing her eyes to try and stop the pain.

“What?” Spike asked, turning her to face him. “What did he say?”

“He said that Angel knew. That Angel was willing to do the upstanding thing and let it happen,” she whispered, closing her eyes as she recalled Angelus’ words. “And then he said that he wasn’t as forgiving, but he wouldn’t tell me why.”

“It has to happen, Buffy,” Wesley said softly, still looking at the prophecy in front of him, reading what he could from it. “So it is written…so shall it be.”

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head, clutching at Spike’s forearm, trying to keep her strength. “I can’t…how can they expect me to…”

“We’ll figure something out,” Spike murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist, trying to soothe her as he attempted to calm her through the claim. He could feel the tension rolling off of her. Feel the despair wafting around her at the thought that she would have to kill her only blood relative.

“So this is his reward? This is what he gets for all his years of fighting the good fight and nearly getting himself killed in the process? He gets to die anyway?” she asked, finally looking into Cordelia’s eyes and seeing the sad acceptance on her face. “You knew,” Buffy whispered in disbelief. “You knew and you didn’t tell me.”

“We all did,” she said softly, glancing over at Wesley. “Wes and Fred found the prophecy a long time ago, but Angel thought that you would have to kill him to fulfill the prophecy. I’m sure he never dreamed it would be Angelus or he would have warned us. He would have told you.”

“And he was just going to let me kill him?” Buffy asked, trying to unsuccessfully control the volume of her voice as she picked up the paper and threw it on the floor. “For no other reason than a fucking prophecy has it written?”

She looked around the room as everyone watched her. Unable to handle it anymore, Buffy collapsed on the floor, burying her face in her hands as she cried.

Vaguely aware that Spike was sitting behind her, pulling her into his lap as he wrapped his arms around her, Buffy turned and sobbed into his chest, clutching at the lapels of his duster as he tried to calm her. “I can’t do it, Spike,” she whispered, trembling when he gently kissed her neck. “I can’t kill my father.”




Thanks so much to: Panta_Rei, shelly, Ariel Dawn, Tina, Jessiesaly, stace, starhawk, Kelly, Cordykitten, jennybean, erika, blondiebear, Sevvy_O, Amanda, willowmouse, Tasha, BuffyandSpikeForever, jade2099, jenny, samica, spikelover520, daisy, phantomwriter, Jessica, BuffyRat, Crystal Pegasus, Kimber, Spikes Eternal Lover, baby spikes, Caitie, gypsy_jin & Franchesca for reviewing!





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