Thirteen Steps - 11 - Vanishing
by Valyssia
Epilogue
[reviews]
Sitting on the couch in front of the television, Buffy struggled to wake up as she numbly watched the news. Cradling the infant that had mysteriously appeared during the night as she fed him a bottle, her eyes narrowed as she listened sleepin'...seems to love the eatin' though, she mused as she looked down at the child's face.
Suddenly she scrambled for the remote, trying not to disturb the baby in her arms. Did they say Wolfram & Hart? Listening intently, she called out to Angel.
"...Was destroyed in a terrorist attack. The blast took place at 6:11am Pacific Coast time, collapsing the main office of the prestigious law firm and damaging a number of the adjacent buildings." the reporter recited.
Entering the room Angel queried, "Huh?
"Shhh..." Buffy hushed him and pointed at the television, watching intently as images of the collapsed building were displayed.
"The death toll is unknown though expected to be low. So far no one has come forward to claim responsibility for the action," the reporter droned on.
Angel saw the remains of the Wolfram & Hart headquarters sign and the pile of mangled debris. That was all he needed to immediately be on the same page. "Wow!" he remarked. Appearing stunned, he took a seat on the couch next to Buffy, watching the television intently. The thing that concerned him more was the thick fog that didn't seem to be settling. The television crew had to all but walk up on top of things to film them. "So, how's junior this morning...?" he queried absently, still wrapped up in the television.
"Hungry...still... Not sure he gets unhungry. Next diaper's yours... I woke up to a toxic event of epic proportions. Not taking another one for awhile," Buffy commented sleepily.
Angel nodded, turning his attention to Buffy, he replied, "No problem. I've dealt with more demon blood and guts than I ever want to remember. A little baby poo's not a big deal..."
Buffy's focus drifted back to the images on the television again as she listened to Angel. "What's he sayin?" she inquired, turning up the volume again.
"Jim, what do you make of this fog?"
"Honestly, we're not sure, Don. It has meteorologists around the world baffled."
"Did you say around the world?"
"Yes Don, it appears to be a global event," the reporter, commented as the image switched to a satellite view. The picture looked like a swirling white mass. "As you can see, none of the landmasses are distinguishable. The president has declared a nationwide state of emergency in response to the event. All businesses have been closed and the National Guard has been dispatched to keep the peace. Please stay in your homes unless it's an absolute emergency."
"What the fuck?" Buffy remarked, carefully getting up to look outside trying not to disturb the nursing infant. It was a feat of pure dexterity.
Angel got up to look out the window along with her.
"Come outside with me, Angel. I have to see this. Dunno why...I mean other than the obvious... It feels weird...like big bad sorta weird," Buffy commented, moving in a brisk pace for the door. She paused, waiting for Angel.
Stepping out onto the front patio, Buffy was alarmed by the depth of the fog. It was too warm and had an unnatural sheen. "You'd think it'd be chilly," she said in a low voice. As the vapor met her skin it produced a light glow, warming the surface to the touch.
"Yeah... This is weird. It feels like its just a few degrees below body temperature and it's... Is it just me or does it..." Angel struggled to put his thoughts into words. "Ummm... Buffy..." Angel added, regarding her with interest.
"Huh...? No way! It feels warmer than that," Buffy remarked, turning to look at Angel like he was nuts.
Angel just pointed back at her.
"Did I spill somethin' on myself?" Buffy queried. What the hell? Looking down to appraise herself, she was stunned. Speaking stream of consciousness, in a moderately agitated voice she continued, "Oh wow! I'm glowing...wait this might be of the bad... 'Cause you...well not so much with the glowy." Trying to make sense of what was happening, she rubbed her arm, realizing that if it was really bad it should burn or itch. The sensation that she was the only one still made her nervous. She looked at the child, touching his face to see if he winced. The fact that he didn't set her more at ease.
Seeming genuinely curious, Angel queried, "What's it feel like?"
"Good actually...kinda tingly...nice and warm... Fog's usually cold and wet feeling. This stuff's toasty and dry. It's not moisture...it's somethin' else..." Buffy explained, passing her free hand through the air and watching it shimmer as it contacted the vapor. "I'm gonna guess from the not choking that it's prolly not hazardous...or at least not immediately. Skin's not burning so...that's of the good. This is still just a bit too wiggy. We should go back inside," she added, reflexively clutching the baby close to her body as if to protect him.
"Okay well... I'm not sure there's anything we can do about it other than watch the news. Neither one of us is particularly mythical or defendery now. And even if we were...you can't exactly slay a global fogbank," Angel replied, leading the way back inside. A grin washed over his face as he poked fun at Buffy's regular mutilation of the English language.
"Hey! Watch it! No making fun of the ex-slayer before coffee. I still remember how to fight, mister," Buffy chided.
"Coffee... I'll go make some. Need help with him first?" Angel responded, looking concerned.
Buffy smiled softly as she spoke. "Nah... I got him. Go make coffee... I'm dyin'."
**************
Buffy sat naked on the bed, staring numbly off into the distance. She hadn't moved since waking, except to pull her knees up to her chest and wrap her arms around them. She was aware when Willow left the bed that she'd gone, but she didn't know why. Instead she sat churning over the same details trying to get them to stick in some sensible fashion. Point is though, they don't make sense. Wanna talk about a total mind fuck? That shit last week was total child's play.
I know with 100% certainty that the woman I love is dead. I'm not sure exactly how I know it, but I do. All of those memories are totally past tense. Yet there's this beautiful woman with me now who thinks, moves, sounds, smells, tastes, and feels in every respect like my Willow. It's uncanny...other than some surfacey sorta differences...she's identical down to the retinal scan and finger prints. She even has all those past tense memories. I can share my thoughts on things that happened months ago with a dead woman and get her answers in return. I close my eyes and track her around the house. She feels exactly like her, every gesture and every movement.
Returning from the bathroom, Willow said, "Let's get you up, sweetie. I'm drawing a bath for us." Pausing to see if the Buffy's expression changed in the least, she added, "I'll make mochas... Come on, honey...doesn't get much better than warm chocolatey goodness and Jacuzzis" trying to tempt as she sat next to the Slayer and began to caress her back.
"Huh Will?" Buffy queried, finally noticing the witch because of her touch.
Appearing worried almost to the point of tears, Willow reiterated, trying to keep her tone even, "Hot bath and mochas...?"
Buffy glanced over at the witch, noticing the collection of unshed tears welling up in her eyes. "Oh...yeah, sure, I guess," she confirmed, trying to snap out of whatever this was. Confusing is such a small word. I need to find one bigger and way more impressive to describe this, she pondered, running through as many synonyms as she could think of. Incomprehensible...yeah much more impressive... At least I know what to call it now. That's progress, right? Breaking away from her reverie, Buffy stiffly turned, having to work a little to straighten her legs. Taking the witch into her arms, she added, "Mochas sound great. Thanks, Will," in a soft guilty tone.
**************
The morning seemed to evaporate as Buffy sat in her home cuddling the baby, for whom she didn't even have a name. Strange I find so much comfort in him. It feels...I dunno...good. It's sorta like when mom brought Dawn home, only not. When he woke crying, Angel very calmly left to change him, returning him and his bottle to her arms without question or comment.
She gazed lost in the television reports of the dead and missing, opportunistic people taking advantage of the chaos, and all of the unrest caused by this latest weirdness. She held Angel's hand off and on as they sat, letting time slip by, exchanging the occasional remark, and avoiding the word Apocalypse. All news all the time was the way of things that morning. Every station reporting some new development related to the event. That suited her just fine. She was curious and even the mundane news seemed to calm the sensation. As the morning ebbed away the strange vapor dissipated leaving in its wake a bright beautiful day.
Weird this just feels right...think I'm loosing it. One day the walking damned, next day, Buffy reflected, looking down at the small pudgy face. "I'd like to keep him," she whispered.
"Alright, we'll get a lawyer and work it out then," Angel confirmed in a gentle voice. "Chances are his mother didn't want him, Buffy. He was being held by the Fell Brethren," he added thoughtfully.
"Then how'd?"
"Willow," Angel replied, knowing that one name would answer all the questions.
A short silence passed between them, then the doorbell rang and Angel got up to answer it.
"Hey, Xander, come in," Angel offered, seeming a bit surprised to see him.
"Sorry, can't really stay, Angel. I have an appointment to look at a house. I just dropped by to deliver this," Xander replied, holding out a plain white envelope with the name 'Buffy' written on it in Willow's neat script. "She wanted me to drop it off. The answers you two are looking for should be inside. Anyway...I'm late... Tell her to come outside to read it," he concluded in a rushed cadence, gesturing to his left with the final remark.
"Okay Xander. Oh, and good luck on that house thing," Angel said, appearing both curious and amused. Shutting the door, he returned to the family room and passed the envelope to Buffy. "It was Xander. He said you should go around the left side of the house to read this. No idea what the hell he meant by that. Xander always confused me a little," he offered in a reserved tone, pausing to let Buffy catch up. "Anyway...I can take him," he gently offered, holding out his arms to take the baby, but just the same, wondering if Buffy would give him up. To his surprise she handed the child over without a moment's hesitation or a single comment and set off purposefully for the door.
Making her way quickly around the side of the house, Buffy looked around not knowing exactly what to expect. Spying a huge willow tree just up the hill from the house surprised her a little, but not really. She walked up and sat in the shade of the tree, enjoying the warm ocean breeze. I don't need to question whether this was here or not. Funny to just sorta know... Ripping the envelope carefully open, Buffy began to read, her mouth hung open as she digested the material, rereading the first paragraph twice.
Buffy,
If you're reading this, I did it. Congratulate me. All those years of being a science nerd finally paid off. It's a pathogen, Buffy. A magickally engineered virus. By now your whole world should be infected. The Goddess will take it in and make it part of her. Sorta the next step from the spell I did with the scythe. Next step 'cause its pretty much bigger, like lots. Anyway, anything human, anything with a soul won't be affected. Anything demonic is sorta screwed, in the dead way, that is. Don't worry about the girls, the demon part of the slayer thing should just die leaving them plain old girls again. Bet Faith's pissed, she liked being a slayer.
I know you have to be asking why I didn't do this to my own world. The answer's pretty simple. In my world the slayer thing's pretty organized. We have bases and all the girls are pretty much under one or another of our roofs. Sort of like an army, but we're so much cooler or at least we dress better. Thing is an unseen result of that is... Well, we've been labeled as a threat by at least one world power. I'm not really sure how deep it runs even now, but if I'd done this there it would've left all those girls at the mercy of this new enemy. It would've most likely been a death sentence. Pretty bad really...
Next with the how... Borrowed power...or more accurately stolen. When I got here I was almost a full third of the way to where I speculated I'd have to be to pull it off. I didn't know for sure it would work. This was really over the fence into wild speculation territory and I had no way to test most of my theory. I took a serious chance, trusting the Goddess to be merciful. Anyway, you can thank Wolfram & Hart and the Circle of the Black Thorn for sponsoring this little global toxic event. Thanks to them any demon that decides to set foot in this world will die a quick, painful death. Not sure how long it'll last or if the demons will adapt, but evolution takes time. At the very least, hundreds of years...
Now for the hard part...the why... Because I love you, Buffy. I looked at all the pieces and they fit. I knew I had to try. This is my final gift to you, a normal human life. Live it well. Call this my last request. I expect you to move forward and enjoy this gift. It's the last gift I'll ever give.
I know the Buffy; from my world will mourn me and move on with the Willow from your world. We traded places, you see. They had so much to offer each other. It wasn't as hard as you'd think to make that choice. Yes, we were lovers in my world. That should help you understand some of my reactions. Buffy means more to me than anything else in the world. You mean more to me...
Anyway, I stayed here to give you this. To make this world a place where you could raise a family and have the life you dreamed of. I know it's all a bit confusing. Actually I'm not completely over the confused as I write this, but it just felt like... Well...it was perfect and you don't ignore perfection when it comes. It's such a rare and beautiful thing.
Put the past behind you. Forgive yourself. All that badness was totally out of your control. You didn't cause it. You were reborn yesterday because I love you. Plus, I'm stubborn and selfish. I couldn't give you up.
Welcome to a brave new world, Buffy. Now find the courage to live in it.
Willow
Buffy read the letter over again, looking at the neat script, adding to the tear stains. Then she folded it up and returned it to the envelope. She sat for a long time, clutching the letter and watching the ocean waves roll up onto the sandy beach. Finally, she spoke in a soft whisper, "I promise," was all she found to say. Rising to her feet, she returned to the house. She silently took the infant out of Angel's arms. Ignoring the questions and the worried looks, she handed him the letter. "Your turn," she offered in a soft whisper, gesturing for Angel to leave.
**************
"Buffy, I should go..." Willow started to offer sheepishly. Trying to get out of the tub, she stopped to wince at the pain in her left wrist as the Slayer clamped down on it a little too hard. Settling back into the water, she gasped, "ow," in a small voice.
Lightening her grip, Buffy replied apologetically, "Please don't."
Willow sighed deeply. "I'm just making it harder, Buffy. You need to grieve and well...with me here... I just add to the stress. I make it harder."
Seeming a little confused as she began, Buffy responded in a firm voice, "You're not leaving me again, Wills. You're all I've got now, and I'm not letting you go." Turning to stare out the window, she watched the tops of the trees move in the gentle breeze. Clearing her head, she reflected thoughtfully, "If you need to go, you can. I'm really sorry. This is just hard."
"It's not that I wanna go... I just...well... Mourning for someone that's in the room with ya...? Not really, but sorta... I mean, I understand and it makes me..." Willow babbled, having trouble putting the thoughts together. Pausing to take the pained expression on Buffy's face she finally added, "I miss her too and I didn't really know her... But in a way now I know her as well as she knew herself. Anyway, yeah...much weirdness..."
Turning back to face her witch, Buffy said in a low teary voice, "Just hold me, Will and promise me you won't let go."
Willow slid closer to her Slayer and embraced her. "I promise," she whispered.
***********
Author's Note: At the point that I write this I feel I've offered closure to the story. It very neatly chronicles the possible future of one Willow Rosenburg. From 'The Outsider' to 'Vanishing' it allows the reader to view her life and the effects she has on those around her. Whether you like this possible future is purely a matter of taste. I leave that up to the reader. I can write it, but I can't make you like it. Though I can speculate that if you made it to this message, it held some minor amount of appeal.
So I ask you: Are you comfortable with this ending or would you like to see more?
Leave reviews with your answers. I will listen to what you have to say. I left enough material that continuing is not impossible. There are still threads hanging, though remarkably few.
Be well!
Val