A Time To Mourn
by Ben: The Vampire Hunter
b_church@yahoo.com
Buffy and Co. Belong to Joss Whedon.
The bus had stopped moving. Buffy figured that was what had
first woken her. It was just as well. She had been dreaming of him.
More memories than anything else. Of the time they'd first met, their
first kiss, of when they'd made love, and the look on his face when
she'd betrayed him.
Angel was dead, and she had killed him, not Angelus, but Angel.
The one she loved, and she'd sent him to hell.
She slowly became aware, through her tear filled eyes, that she
was alone on the bus. Standing, she looked out the window, seeing a
green, grassy field, with a church standing not far from the bus.
Somehow, she knew she had to go in.
As soon as she left the bus, she heard music. It was a mournful
song, but at the same time, beautiful. It seemed to come from
everywhere, but she soon pinpointed the source. Two men stood outside
the church, one playing what looked like a distant cousin of the
Bagpipes, the other playing a simple pennywhistle.
She approached them slowly, drawn by the music, knowing they meant
her no harm. She knew now that she was no longer in California. She
wasn't even in the U.S. This was Ireland. Angel's home.
The song ended as she reached the musicians. The one playing the
pipes nodded to her solemnly, while the other smiled sadly.
"Welcome Buffy." the first said, in a thick, but understandable
Irish accent. She noticed with amazement that she had understood him
perfectly, even though the man was speaking Gaelic.
"Where am I?" she asked.
"I think you already know the answer to that." the other man, the
one who'd smiled, answered. "Ireland. Just outside of Dublin. Only
two miles from where Angelus was born. And where he was taken from
us."
"You mean Angel?" Buffy asked quickly. She didn't like the name
Angelus. It brought bad memories.
"Ah yes," the first said. "The only time he was Angelus with you
was when the Demon had taken his body. But when we knew him, he was
Angelus. A brave, fun-loving, good man. If a drunkard and lazy."
His smile told her that he'd meant no offense.
"What do you mean when you knew him?" the Slayer asked. "Who are
you?"
"We're his brothers." the second one told her. "Seamus and Colm.
Next question."
Buffy liked this man, obviously the younger. She got the feeling
that before Angel was a Vampire, him and this man had gotten on quite
well.
"All right," Buffy smiled back. "I'll bite. How did I get here?
Is this a dream."
"It is," the first explained. "And yet it isn't. A Slayer's
dreams are very rarely just a dream. Your grief over Angel has brought
you here, and us to you."
Buffy's brief good humor faded at the reminder of her sorrow.
"Why?"
"To mourn. Like you we have not. We did not get a chance to."
the older man replied. "The demon that had taken our brother's body
killed us before we knew what had happened. Our spirits have been
restless ever since."
Without another word, they turned to enter the church, the older
brother beckoning her to follow. She hesitated. Did she want this?
Was she ready? Did she have a choice? The unresolved grief was eating
at her like a cancer. Slowly, she stepped into the church.
It was a simple building, quite like any rural village would have.
There were more people inside, women as well as men and children. All
Angel's family.
"Are you the one we've waited for?" one small child asked. She
looked like she'd been getting impatient.
"I guess I am." Buffy smiled sadly. "What's your name?"
"Brigid." the girl replied. "I was Angelus' youngest sister."
She whispered; "And his favorite."
"Was not!" another girl, maybe a year older protested. "He liked
me best!"
The women were strangely quiet, they looked like they were holding
something in, that yearned to be released, trying to burst from them.
Quietly at first, one woman began to moan. It was an almost
musical sound, then one by one, the other women began to join in,
creating a chorus of wailing, crying voices. Buffy suddenly found
herself adding to those voices, not feeling the slightest bit self
conscious. Even the female children were joining in.
"So this is keening." Buffy thought. She didn't know how she knew
the word, but it felt good.
The men were more reserved, they stood and sat, crying quietly to
themselves. Soon, the women, once spent, quieted from keening and
merely sobbed. But each one, once finished keening, looked peaceful,
and one by one, they began to fade away.
Once again, Buffy heard the music played by Colm and Seamus. As
each person disappeared, the music grew in volume, but this time, there
was a bit of joy mixed with the sorrow in the song. Soon, Buffy was
left with only the two musicians. Even the church had gone.
"Thank you Buffy." Seamus said. "Thank you for sharing this
moment with us."
"And thank you for setting us free." Colm added. As they too left
her.
She awoke on the bus, still moving. The sun had set, and darkness
lay over the land. She was still sad. The pain would always be there,
she knew. But somehow, it seemed more bearable than before. Angel was
gone. But he lived on in her heart.
The End