Title: From the Ashes
Author: Karen U
E-mail: ksu2@juno.com or kupchurch@hotmail,com
Rating: PG-13
Classification: Willow/Angel
Disclaimer: I do not own Willow, Angel, or any other BtVS or Angel
characters. Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the WB do. The songs belong to their respective writers and performers
Summary: Willow's heritage comes back to haunt her. Can Angel save her?
Author's Notes: < indicates thoughts > , *indicates song lyrics*
Feedback: Yes, but no flames please. I'm new at this.
*Don’t try to save me now
Let the walls of my world all burn down
Just stand back and wait
Till the smoke finally passes
And I will rise
From the ashes*
-Martina McBride, From the Ashes
Prologue
Willow sat in shock. The words still reverberated through her head, though it had been hours since they had been spoken.
< You were adopted. >
She realized she wasn’t the first teenager to hear those words. Far from it. She wouldn’t be the last, either.
< Eighteen years. Eighteen years they lied to me. Eighteen years they let me believe I was theirs. >
She absently wiped the tears from her eyes. She’d cried long enough. Now she had more important things to do. Like find her real parents.
Part One
*Where’d it go?
The bluebird I should follow back home?
But where is home?*
-Natalie Imbruglia, Pigeons and Crumbs
Two Weeks Later-
College. Scary word. A whole new world. Of course, after the way the past couple of weeks had gone, Willow felt she could handle anything. That was before she opened the letter.
It hadn’t taken long to trace the adoption agency. All she’d had to do was get the papers out of her parents’ - adoptive parents’ – safe deposit box. Of course, it had taken another nine days to get the courage to contact the agency, but that was beside the point. She figured it was worth a try to go through the proper channels before just hacking into the agency’s computer, so she had called. And she had discovered that it wasn’t necessary to hack into the computer after all. Apparently, her mother had left a letter for her in case Willow ever
tried to contact her.
Willow sat with the contents of the envelope in her hand. A key and a note. The typewritten note simply stated that the key was to a safe deposit box at the Sunnydale First National Bank and told her the number of the box. The box was supposed to be in her name. The note was
dated February 1998.
< Was my mother here less than two years ago? Did she look for me? Did we pass each other on the street? > Willow wondered.
The contents of the safe deposit box was another box. Willow took it back to the dorm with her and spent the next hour staring at it. She was terrified. Did she really want to know what was waiting for her in that box? With a sigh, Willow decided that she did.
Part Two
*Hold on, hold on to yourself
For this is going to hurt like hell*
-Sarah McLachlan, Hold On
She gingerly opened the letter on top of the stack of envelopes
in the box. The letter was handwritten. She knew the handwriting.
Oh, God.
My dearest Willow,
If you are reading this letter, I am probably dead. It hurts to
write that. However, if what I plan to do gives Angel his soul back, it
was worth my death. I am so sorry for betraying you and Rupert and Buffy
and Angel. Poor Angel. I had no idea what would happen until it was too
late. If I had only known, or paid more attention to my duty...but it is
too late for regrets now. I am working on the curse to restore Angel’s
soul. I pray I find it before it is too late. The power the spell will
require...I fear I am not strong enough to survive. The magicks used to
curse Angel have been long lost. I only hope I can find them again. I
only hope that I can restore Angel’s soul to him. I only hope that,
someday, you will forgive me. I love you.
Your
mother,
Jenny
Oh, God.
The tears rolled down Willow’s face as she finished the letter.
Jenny Calendar was her mother. Her mother was dead. At the hands of a
friend.
After a few minutes, Willow wiped her tears away and returned her
attention to the box. There were over a dozen envelopes in it. She
chose one at random and
opened it. Like the first envelope, it contained a letter. Willow
slowly began to read.
My dearest daughter,
I met you today. Of course, you have no idea of that. I’m just
the new computer science teacher. You look so much like your father.
You’re smart like him, too. Forgive me, but I took the liberty of
looking at your transcript. You have done so well in school. You amaze
me.
The letter went on, much like a diary. The pages in Willow’s
hand described several months of Jenny’s thoughts and feelings. Willow
grimaced as she came to an entry from November 1997.
Willow,
You saved me today. Or, at least, your idea did. I guess Angel
was the one who truly saved me. You, however, told him how to do it.
Having Eyghon inside me was terrifying. I will be forever grateful to
Angel for putting himself at risk in order to rid me of that monster.
It’s odd, being grateful to a vampire. His soul may have been meant as a
punishment to him, but it is truly a gift to the world.
I’m scared. I don’t know what to do about Rupert. I care for
him, but there is so much I don’t know about him. I guess I have a lot
to decide. About you, about Rupert, about my duty. I just don’t know
anymore.
Willow read for over an hour. Each letter was from another part
of Jenny’s life. Several were written on Willow’s birthday, long musings
about what she was like. It hurt to read those letters. To know that
during the time the Rosenbergs had been virtually ignoring her, her real
mother had spent hour upon hour writing to a daughter she didn’t know.
August 7, 1982
My dear little girl,
You are one today. I wonder what you look like. I’m sure you
are beautiful. I wonder what your name is. I named you Willow, but I
doubt the family that adopted you kept that name. I wish I had been able
to keep you. I miss you so much. But I was sixteen. I was so young, so
unprepared. I still am. I’m sure you are better off without me.
"Oh, Jenny," Willow whispered. "How could I have been better off
without you?" Willow put the letter back in the box, then noticed an
envelope that had fallen on the floor. She picked it up and opened it,
pulling several sheets of paper from it. She
glanced at the date on the letter (it was her sixteenth birthday), and
started to read. By
the time she was done, she wished she had never found the letter.
Part three
*One thing I know for sure is that...
Something just ain’t right*
-Luscious Jackson, One Thing
Doyle woke up in a cold sweat, shaking like a leaf. He gabbed a
pen and a sheet of paper off the nightstand and wrote down the information he could
remember from the vision. Then he laid back down and braced himself for the
migraine that was sure to come. He’d give Angel the information in the morning.
*****
The gypsies were almost ready. Two more days, and all would be
well. Janna’s killer would be punished. Again.
And they would have Janna’s daughter back.
*****
The hunters were prepared. They would find the girl. All they
had to was wait. She would eventually, inevitably, use her powers again.
And this time, they would be ready to start the hunt. And they would
catch her.
And her powers would be theirs.
*****
Angel stared at the slip of paper in his hand. Willow.
Sunnydale. Midnight. "Is this a joke?" he growled at Doyle. He hoped
it was.
"I don’t joke. Not when it comes to this. That’s what I got from the vision.
Why?"
Angel thrust the paper at Doyle. "It’s Willow."
"I take it you know this girl. Or at least you think you do."
Angel watched as realization slowly dawned on Doyle’s face. "You think it’s one of the
Slayer’s friends, don’t you?"
Angel nodded, trying not to show how worried he was. "It’s got
to be her. Willow’s not a common name, and Sunnydale’s a small town. Besides, how
many Willows would be out at midnight unless they’re helping the Slayer? A
friend of Buffy’s is much more likely to be in danger than any other
resident of Sunnydale. They search it out."
Doyle checked his watch. The sun would be setting in a little
under an hour. "I’ll go tell Cordelia what’s going on, and we’ll leave
as soon as the sun sets. Let’s just hope we can find her."
"Doyle."
The half-demon stopped and turned at his friend’s voice. "What?"
"Did you see anything that might help us? Can you remember
anything? Anything at all?"
Doyle thought for a moment. "Trees. Like a park or something.
An open space. And people. Creepy people. Some major magick was
happening, and the little redhead was in the middle of it."
Angel nodded, a grim look on his face. "As soon as the sun goes
down, we’re out of here, whether Cordelia’s packed or not."
*****
Willow wasn’t sure what led her to the cliff overlooking
Sunnydale. However, she was there, so she sat down on the grass. She
knew this was the spot where Angel had tried to kill himself the
Christmas before. She silently thanked whatever force had caused the
snow to fall on Sunnydale and save Angel’s life that morning. Willow
tensed as she heard someone approaching. She turned to see seven people
coming towards her.
"Hello, child," an accented voice spoke softly into the night.
And she knew. She just knew exactly who stood before her.
"Hello, great-grandmother."
Part four
*I must prevail now with no question
Have no time to stop
Onward to the top of the mountain
And I can’t turn back now*
-No Doubt, The Climb
"You know who I am." It was a statement, not a question.
"I do. I just don’t’ know why you’re here. I’m eighteen. Seems
like you waited an awfully long time to find me."
"We always knew where you were. We had to wait until you knew
who we were."
"What do you want?"
"For you to do your duty." That came from a man that Willow
instinctively knew was her uncle. She also knew not to trust him.
"And just what is my duty?"
"Vengeance." The word, spoken softly, sounded immensely evil.
Willow suppressed a shiver and fought the urge to get the hell out of there.
"Vengeance on who?" Willow was ashamed at the quaver in her
voice.
"Angelus."
"Angelus is gone. I gave him his soul."
"He killed Janna. He must be punished."
At that, Willow exploded. "Don’t you think I know he killed
Jenny? I went to her funeral and mourned her. You didn’t! None of you
were there. And Angel has his soul now! He spent hundreds of years in
the demon dimension! With his soul intact. Isn’t that enough?"
"And what gave you the right to give him his soul?" the old
woman, her
great-grandmother, practically hissed the words.
"Jenny was my mother. Vengeance was mine."
The man laughed, a cold, cruel sound. "It isn’t vengeance if it
wasn’t meant as punishment. You cared for him; you didn’t intend to
punish him."
The other people in the group, two men and three women, began to
chant. Willow could feel the magic begin to spread around her.
"What are you doing?" she asked, frightened to the core.
"Taking vengeance," the man replied. "Taking his soul."
Soul. Oh, God. Angel’s soul. They couldn’t go through that
again. She couldn’t go through that again. She felt herself panicking.
She hadn’t been practicing magick long, she didn’t know what to do.
And then she did.
She was calm. She was powerful. And she knew just what to do.
She was going to win. She had to. For Angel.
She erected a shield first, encompassing both her and the
gypsies. She could feel the magick rising around her to a feverish
pitch. It was almost painful. But she couldn’t lose. She couldn’t
stop.
*****
Angel raced up to the cliff with Doyle and Cordelia at his heels.
It was the last place left to check. He looked at his watch. It was
exactly midnight.
< Dear God, > Angel prayed silently, < please let me get there in
time. Please protect Willow. >
The top of the cliff came into view, and Angel stopped short. He
could see the magick surrounding Willow and the gypsies, and he
recognized the signs of a magickal shield. He knew he was too late. He
couldn’t get to her. He had failed. In despair, he dropped to his knees
and cried out her name.
"Willow!"
Her name. Angel’s voice. Oh, God, he was here. He was in pain.
She couldn’t lose. She wouldn’t lose. With renewed strength and a
sense of desperation borne of a need to survive, Willow began to chant.
She didn’t know the language, but it felt right. The words flowed, and
she felt the magick rise within her. It was very much like the time she
had restored Angel’s soul. She relaxed and let the magick lead.
Outside the shield, the wind swirled, and Cordelia was knocked to
her knees. The entire shield glowed white, hiding Willow and the others
from sight. Terrified, Cordelia began to cry. She felt a hand close
over hers, and she turned into Doyle’s embrace, accepting his offer of
comfort. And she prayed.
Gradually, the magick began to recede from Willow’s body. The
pain returned. But she had won. Angel was saved. The spell she had
cast could never be reversed. With that on her mind, Willow surrendered
to unconsciousness.
The wind was dying down; the shield was falling. Angel slowly
raised his head, taking a glance at Cordelia and Doyle to make sure they
were safe. Doyle was helping Cordelia to stand on legs that were visibly
shaking, but she seemed to be okay. With a sense of dread, Angel turned
to the spot where the shield had been. Willow and seven others lay on
the ground, unconscious.
Angel rushed to Willow’s side and checked her pulse. It was
strong and steady. Angel breathed an unneeded sigh of relief. Somehow,
some way, Willow had survived whatever had been done to her. Willow
moaned softly, then stirred, opening her eyes slowly.
"Angel?"
"Yeah, Willow, it’s me."
Willow gave a small, satisfied smile. "I won."
Cordelia, who had made her way over to where Willow lay, looked
confused. "What do you mean, you won?"
"They wanted Angel’s soul. I wouldn’t let them have it." She
looked Angel in eye. "They’ll never be able to take it again. I made it
permanent." Without giving
Angel a chance to respond to that revelation, Willow began to rise on one
elbow.
Angel quickly moved to help, and Willow was soon surveying the people
around her.
"Are they alive?"
Doyle, who had been methodically checking the pulse of each
gypsy, nodded. "They’re alive. They’ll probably come around soon. We
should get out of here."
Willow nodded, then attempted to stand. She had made it less
than halfway up when Angel scooped her into his arms. "Where to?" he
asked.
"Home, I guess. Ira and Sheila are away on business. It’s
probably not the best idea to go back to the dorm. My roommate would ask
questions." Angel nodded, then began to carry Willow to the car.
Cordelia took one last look at the unconscious people around her.
She felt no pity for them. They had ganged up on a teenage girl, after
all. They got what they
deserved. Then a disconcerting thought came to her. She turned to
follow the others.
"Hey, Willow, who exactly are these people?" she asked as she got into
the car.
"I’m pretty sure they’re my family."
Part five
*How do you choose?
Do you hurt ‘em with the truth or with a lie?*
-Reba McEntire, I Wish That I Could Tell You
Angel paced restlessly in the living room of the Rosenberg's
house. He was too concerned about the events of the evening to dwell on
the bombshell Willow had dropped about his soul. Frustrated, Angel
turned to Doyle.
"I don’t understand it. Why were we needed? All we did was
bring her home. I arrived too late, and everything still turned out
okay. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled that Willow’s okay and that my
soul is now a permanent fixture in my life, but the fact remains that I
was too late."
"No you weren’t. Your timing was perfect." Angel turned at the
soft words.
Willow was standing there, wrapped in a robe. "I heard you. You yelled
my name. I
knew you were there." She shrugged. "So I fought harder. And I won."
Angel stared at her for a moment. If that was the only
explanation she could offer, he would have to accept it. However, he
still felt that he was missing something important. "Those people, you
say they were your family?"
"Yes, they are."
"They were gypsies."
"I know."
Doyle looked from Willow to Angel, then stood as Cordelia entered
the room. "I’m going to take Cordelia back to the mansion. I doubt
we’ll get out of here tonight. We’ll leave you two alone. I suspect
that you have a lot to talk about." Cordelia shot him an odd look, but
allowed him to lead her out of the house.
Willow watched the others go, then turned to find Angel still
staring at her. She sighed, realizing Angel would try to get her to tell
him everything. "We can talk in my room." She led him down the hall,
then entered her room and sat on the bed. Angel took the desk chair,
turning it around so that he was facing her. He stared at her
expectantly, waiting for Willow to start. After a long moment, she did.
"What do you want to know?"
"I’d really like to know why you think you’re related to
gypsies."
Willow took a deep breath, then began. "I was adopted. Sheila
and Ira
Rosenberg aren’t my real parents. My real mother had me when she was
sixteen years old. She was a gypsy."
"Romany."
Willow’s eyes filled with unshed tears. She didn’t want to tell
him this. "Yes, Romany." She took a deep breath and felt a tear trickle
down her cheek. She pulled Jenny’s final letter out from the pocket of
her robe and handed it to him. "Jenny."
Angel looked horrified. And guilty. He had never before looked
so sorry, so
tormented. He slowly opened the letter, his hands shaking. He read it
through
tear-blurred eyes. Not only had he taken Giles’ love, he had taken
Willow’s mother as
well. "Oh, Willow. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You must hate me."
"I don’t," Willow whispered. "I can’t. Maybe it would be easier
if I could. But I’ve seen you with a soul as well as without one. I
would run screaming in terror from you without a soul. With a soul, I
trust you with my life." She stood and grabbed Angel’s arm as he went to
leave. "Where are you going?"
"You shouldn’t have to see me. God, Willow, I killed your
mother."
"It wasn’t you. It was that damn demon that set up shop in your
body. Yes, I
know that the demon’s still inside you, and it always will be. But it’s
not you. You are
your soul. Why is it that you’re the only one who can’t see that?"
Willow was nearly
shaking as she vented her frustration.
Angel stared at the tiny young woman standing in front of him.
He didn’t
understand how Willow could keep forgiving him for what he had done. He
couldn’t
talk about the difference between Angel and Angelus anymore. It hurt too
much. Not
just him, but everyone around him. So he changed the subject. "What did
they want
from you?" he asked.
"Vengeance." She punctuated the word with a hollow laugh. "They
wanted to take your soul again. Apparently, I didn’t hate you enough for
their taste when I cursed you. Unlike them, I wasn’t looking for
vengeance."
"What were you looking for?"
"I’d lost so much already. Jenny was gone forever; Giles was so
angry. Buffy was so sad and scared. I was so scared. If there was even
a chance at restoring your soul, I had to try. Not just because we
needed you to help us fight, though. I wanted my friend back," she
sobbed brokenly. "I just wanted you back." Angel reached out to hold
her, then stopped himself. Would she really want her mother’s murderer
to touch her?
"Angel?"
"Yes, Willow?"
"Do you... would you just hug me right now? I really need it."
The words were hardly out of her mouth before she found herself wrapped
in Angel’s strong embrace.
Willow didn’t know how long Angel held her, or when she fell
asleep. All she knew was that Angel was gone when she woke up the next
morning and that he,
Cordelia, and Doyle were long gone by the next night. No one, not even
Buffy, knew
they had come.
*****
The hunters were prepared. The target had used her magick. It
was time to catch the prey.
Part six
*You made me a shadowboxer, baby
I wanna be ready for what you do
I been swinging all around me
‘Cause I don’t know when you’re gonna make your move*
-Fiona Apple, Shadowboxer
Two weeks later-
Willow was being followed. She wasn’t sure how she knew.
Perhaps she just felt them. But they were almost always there. She just
didn’t know who they were. She wanted to tell Buffy, but was afraid
she’d end up having to explain everything. The thought of being followed
made her nervous, and when she was nervous she babbled. And when she
babbled, secrets came out. Secrets like Jenny being her mother, Angel
coming to help her, and the gypsies fighting her for Angel’s soul. So
she didn’t tell anybody.
Of course, she realized what a bad decision that was when they
grabbed her.
*****
Doyle dropped to his knees in the middle of the sidewalk as the
vision assaulted him.
< Warehouse. White. Red. Pain. Fear. Willow. Oh, God,
Willow. Heat. Fire. Burning. Red. Flame. Blood. Oh, God, blood.
Willow. Angel. Fear. Black. Night. Death. Oh, God, death. >
Doyle passed out as the pain overtook him.
*****
"Angel. Angel." The voice was almost sing-songy. The vampire
groaned and glanced at the clock beside his bed. It was two o’clock. In
the afternoon. Not a good time to wake up a grumpy vampire. Angel
turned in the direction that the voice had come from. When he saw what
was waiting for him, he did what any self-respecting vampire would do.
He passed out.
When he came to, a cool hand was tapping the side of his face.
"Wake up,
sleepyhead," Jenny Calendar cooed.
Angel struggled into a sitting position and blinked his eyes like
a shocked child. "You’re dead."
Jenny gave him a look. "So are you. So I guess we’re even."
"Why are you here?"
Jenny looked at the clock, then turned back to Angel. "Since
you’re stuck inside for the next few hours, I guess I’m here to tell you
a story. Then I need you to save my daughter."
"Willow’s in danger? How? Why? What happened?" Angel was
automatically in a panic, almost tumbling to the floor in his haste to
get to his clothes.
"You can’t do anything now, Angel. It’s daylight. Plus, you
don’t know where she is. We’ll have to wait for Doyle for that."
Angel paused in the process of frantically tossing his clothes
on. "He had another vision?"
Jenny nodded, then gestured for the vampire to sit down. Angel
complied, then waited for Jenny to speak. After a moment, she did. "You
asked why she was in
danger. It’s because of what she is."
"A gypsy?"
"She is a gypsy, but that’s not where the danger lies. After
what happened last month, they want nothing to do with her. She is far
too powerful for them to contend with. It’s her father. Did she ever
tell you about him?"
"We never got past talking about you."
"He was a witch. A Harmon." She looked at the vampire, took in
his stunned expression. "I see you’ve heard of them."
"They’re supposed to have been completely wiped out fifteen years
ago."
Jenny nodded, a bleak look on her face. "Willow’s the only one
left. Her father was killed seventeen years ago. He was only nineteen."
The ghost wiped away a tear that was trickling down her cheek. "The
Harmons had always been hunted. They were very powerful. Because of
this, people feared them. Hunted them down like animals. Killed them.
The entire line...one teenage girl left. I told her about it. Wrote her
a letter. I'd hoped she’d go to Giles, get some help. I was so scared
they’d find her. That’s one of the reasons I gave her up. I was so
young. Sixteen. When I found out I was pregnant, I was scared, but I
thought I could handle it. Then I told Michael. And Michael told me
everything. He’d never wanted to have children. His family was always
on the run. He didn’t want a child to go through that because of him.
We were afraid that a child of mine would be connected to him. The
people in town knew we were involved. If the hunters came, asked the
right questions...we were terrified that they would find her, and we
wouldn’t be able to protect her. So we decided to give her up. We hoped
that anonymity would give her chance." Jenny turned to Angel, tears
running down her face. "I love my baby girl, Angel. I don’t want her to
die."
Angel walked over and took the surprisingly solid ghost in his
arms. He rocked her gently, whispering, "I’ll protect her, Jenny. I
won’t let your baby girl die. She didn’t give up on me. I won’t give up
on her."
"Angel!" The yell came from the hallway, and Angel turned
towards the voice. Doyle came rushing in. "It’s Willow."
"I know."
"How do you know?"
Angel turned to gesture toward Jenny, only to discover that she
had
disappeared. "I’ll explain later. What can you tell me?"
The look on Doyle’s face told him it wasn’t good.
*****
Giles turned as Xander and Buffy came barreling into the
apartment. "Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?" he asked, exasperated.
This was his private residence that the two teenagers were barging in on.
"It’s Willow. She’s missing," Buffy blurted out, a frightened
look on her face.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," Xander replied. "Her roommate hasn’t seen her today. We
went by her house. Her room was a mess." He held the letter he had
found out to Giles. It was dated August 7, 1997. Willow’s sixteenth
birthday. "We found this. It looks pretty
important."
Giles quickly scanned the letter, barely processing that it was
from Jenny. It was the content of the letter that concerned him. He
knew that if they didn’t find Willow
soon, she was dead. He looked up at the frightened Slayer. "Call Angel.
We may
need his help."
*****
"I’m already looking for her. Doyle had a vision. He thinks
she’s in LA. We’re going to find her, Buffy." Angel hung up the phone.
He didn’t make any promises to Buffy about Willow being okay because he
didn’t have any promises to make. All he could do was pray that he found
Willow in time.
Part seven
*My mouth is dry
Forgot how to cry
What’s up with that
You’re hurting me*
-Natalie Imbruglia, Smoke
The room was dark. The walls were white and the room had a very
sterile feel to it. Willow flexed her arms slightly, only to discover
that they were tied behind her back. She could hear voices outside the
door.
"It that the one?" a man’s voice asked.
"We did the test," a woman replied. "She’s definitely a witch.
If we’re lucky,
she’s a Harmon." Willow tried to think of what kind of test these people
could have
performed, then remembered the concoction she and Buffy had used to learn
that Amy was a witch. She hoped the test these people had performed had
been as simple. She continued to listen in.
"A Harmon? I thought they were all dead."
"Supposedly, there was an illegitimate child about eighteen years
ago. All signs point to the girl."
"Damn. Imagine the power." The man sounded stunned.
"And it will be ours to use." Willow felt a chill go down her
spine. What did they plan to do to her?
After making sure that no one seemed to be planning to come in
the room with her, Willow began to work at the rope tying her hands. It
was slow, hard work, and by the time she was done, her hands were bloody.
But at least she was free. Well, untied anyway.
She rose to her feet, wincing at the stiffness she felt. The
door was locked, and she saw no way out. As she turned to the window,
she bumped into a file cabinet
behind her. Her curiosity got the best of her, and she opened the top
drawer. And
discovered file upon file of witches. Dead witches. Witches whose
powers had been
completely drained. Witches the hunters had killed for their own
personal gain. She
glanced at the files in the other drawer, stopping to check the files
marked with a flag.
There were three witches that had somehow survived the process of having
their
powers drained. But they were all comatose.
Willow jumped at the sound of the door opening behind her. The
person didn’t seem to notice that she wasn’t where they’d left her, so
she did the only thing she could think of. She shoved the file drawer
into the person’s stomach and ran for her life.
*****
Angel had no idea where he was going. The building was like a
maze, and he was completely lost. Cordelia and Doyle followed close
behind him. He entered a
huge room that looked much like a laboratory, and looked up as he heard a
commotion above him. It was Willow. And she had a knife.
She was cornered. She had nowhere to turn, nowhere to go. She
looked at the knife in her hand. It was long and sharp, reminding her of
the knife that Faith had threatened her with. She didn’t know what the
hunters wanted with her powers, but she knew it couldn’t be good. Anyone
who would kill innocent people for any reason was evil. Either way, she
was dead. Either she would die when they drained her of her powers, or
she would die with her powers. Willow made her choice. She took the
knife and plunged it into her stomach.
Part eight
*And I wonder where you are
And I wonder if the pain ends when you die
And I wonder if there was
Some better way to say goodbye*
-Martina McBride, Goodbye
Angel screamed in horror as Willow fell to the floor. He vaulted
up the stairs and ran to her side, already in tears. He snarled at the
hunters, his game face firmly in place. The hunters, their foe dying at
their feet, ran away as quickly as possible. She was worthless to them
now.
"Oh, God." Angel didn’t even turn as Cordelia and Doyle reached
him. He
cradled the red head in his arms, sobbing. The unfocused look in her
eyes told him
what he already knew. He was too late.
"Angel?" Willow’s pained voice was barely more than a whisper.
"The knife. Please, Angel, take out the knife."
Without thinking, Angel pulled the knife from Willow and laid it
to the side. It
didn’t matter anymore. She was already gone. As the redhead took her
last breath,
Angel pressed his face to her chest and sobbed uncontrollably. The
brightest, most
precious thing in his life was gone forever.
Cordelia stood in shock, tears rolling down her face. This
couldn’t be
happening. No one was supposed to die. The Slayer’s friends always won.
Always.
Doyle watched in silence, staring at Angel and Willow. He was
about to try to get Angel to leave when the unthinkable happened.
Willow moved.
*****
She was standing in a beautiful meadow on a sunny day. A sense
of well-being flooded through her. But something was wrong. There was
something she hadn’t finished. Willow turned to see Jenny in front of
her.
"Mom?"
Jenny nodded, tears in her eyes. She pulled her daughter into
her arms, then set her back to look at her. "It isn’t your time, you
know."
"Then why am I here?"
Jenny smiled. "So I could see you, speak to you before you go
back."
"I stabbed myself. How can I not die?"
"It’s a Harmon trait. The only way to kill them is to decapitate
them. A few
mystical poisons work as well, but antidotes have been found. They can
also be killed very easily once they are drained of their powers. Those
witches the hunters left
comatose? They were Harmons. Draining them didn’t kill them, but now
any disease or injury could kill them. Without their powers, they can’t
heal themselves."
"Does this mean that, as long as I keep my powers...I’m going to
live forever?"
Jenny laughed. "Forever is a long time, so I can’t guarantee
that. However, you will live a very long time. The length of several
lifetimes. You’ll stop aging, and you can be with Angel for several
hundred years."
"Angel?"
Jenny smiled gently. "Don’t tell me you don’t love him. I’m
your mother. I can tell these things. Now go to him. Be happy."
Before her mother could leave, Willow had one last question. "If
the Harmons are so hard to kill, why is it that I am the only one left?"
"The hunters discovered how to kill them." And with that, Jenny
was gone.
*****
She was on the floor. It was cold. And someone was crying on
her. Opening her eyes, she saw a dark head pressed to her chest.
Xander? No, not Xander. Xander didn’t have any vampiric ridges. At
least, none that she knew of.
"Angel?"
The vampire froze. It sounded like Willow. He whipped around to
face Cordelia and Doyle, wondering if somehow, in his misery, he had
mistaken Cordelia’s voice for Willow’s. Cordelia, sheet-white, was
staring beyond him. With a shaking hand, she pointed.
"She’s alive. Angel, she’s alive."
Turning toward the redhead, Angel didn’t dare to hope. But her
eyes were open. She smiled gently, and raised her hand to wipe away his
tears. "I’ve got quite a story to tell you," she whispered. "But I
think we need to get out of here first."
Angel, still in shock, picked Willow up, and carried her down the
stairs and out the door to his waiting car. As he gently placed Willow
in the front seat, he saw a spark out of the corner of his eye. He
turned to see Doyle dropping a match into a trash can.
"What are you doing?"
Doyle shrugged. "In my vision, the place went up in flames. I
figure it seems like a pretty good way do destroy the equipment. Now,
let’s get out of here."
The small group drove away as the warehouse burned, turning the
evil within it into ashes.
Epilogue
*I’ll walk away stronger
I will be flyin’
Higher and truer
Than I’ve flown before*
-Martina McBride, From the Ashes
It had been nearly a week since Willow had died and came back.
She was still physically weak from the ordeal, but she was getting better
every day. The others had come to LA and heard the story, but there was
still something left undone.
"Do you love her?"
Angel turned at the Slayer’s voice. "What?"
"Willow. You love her. You should tell her."
"Excuse me?"
"She loves you, too, you know. It’s a good thing. According to
what we’ve found out over the past few days, the two of you will be
around for the equivalent of several lifetimes. Don’t waste it. Spend
as much time as possible making each other happy."
"Buffy, I don’t deserve-"
"To be happy? Of course you do. It can’t hurt you anymore.
Your soul is
forever. And even if I can’t convince you that you deserve happiness,
think of Willow."
"I am."
"No you’re not. If you were, you’d march right into her room and
tell her the
truth. If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s Willow. And you’re capable
of making her
happy, so you damn well better do it. If it makes you happy in the
process, so be it."
With that, Buffy turned and left. After a moment, Angel left the room as
well.
Willow was sitting in her room, reading. Angel took the book out
of her hands and set it on the table beside her chair. And then he
kissed her. The kiss was long and sweet, and Angel wanted it to last
forever, but he knew there was still something he needed to do. He broke
the kiss and met Willow’s surprised and slightly questioning look.
"I love you."
The smile Willow sent him was as bright as the sun, and Angel
could see his feelings reflected in her eyes. Still, it helped to hear
the words.
"I love you, too, Angel." And with that, she kissed him.
Two silent figures watched the couple kiss. One mourned the loss
of an old love at the same time that she rejoiced in the happiness that
her friends had found. The other quietly cried as she watched her
daughter in the arms of the man she loved. And Jenny found peace at
last, because she knew her daughter was safe.
Forever.
The End
