-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine. Lyrics are by Meredith Brooks, “I Watched You Fall”, and are used without permission.
-Summary: Series set 100 yrs after "The Gift," Season five finale. This is part AU and futuristic. Spike has been alive for 100 hundred years after Buffy's death. Whistler comes to him to let him know that Buffy has been summoned to fight a new evil. Therefore she will be brought back to life and needs a "guide". When Buffy wakes she finds that the only one to cling to is the only person left from her past. This is a B/S fiction.
-Rating: Overall rating of series is R. (Language and Violence)
-Spoilers: I will mention everything that has happened through "The Gift".
-Distribution: The only people that have permission to post these series are those who already archive my fiction and have asked me for permission. If you want to post it please ask me. I'll be happy to let you. I just want to know where my fiction goes.
-Author's Note: I adore Feedback, so please let me know what you think of the story so far! bih80reviews@yahoo.com
-Special Thanks: Wendy and Nmissi for the BETA and their awesome feedback *g*
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She had no idea where he was going—but her guess was probably as accurate as they came. He had jumped on his Dukati, again, and if it were not for her superhuman speed she would have lost him.
He rode past the path they came by—she knew this because she recognized the cliffs they rode a few days ago. Only this time they looked darker and terrifying. They spoke of dark tales and cursed lovers. They whispered nightmares one could not awaken from.
Whispers that come in voiceless actions yet torment thoughts like screams in the night.
She clutched on to him feeding him the little emotional strength she had left. She felt drained—and the way still lay ahead.
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Spike had gone numb the moment he saw the pictures. He felt he was walking down a dark tunnel—he knew somewhere in the distance lay the light that would save him but the walk was what frightened him the most.
He felt Buffy’s presence—he knew she was there, but it felt surreal.
When had things gone wrong? One moment he was having the best moment he had in decades, and the next he felt his heart ripping from its position.
All he could do to grasp reality was once in a while feel Buffy’s arms around his waist—her head resting on his back. That was the feeling that told him it was real.
They were dead.
He knew it in the pit of his stomach—like a burning coal that slipped past his lips and devoured him from the inside out.
He cursed his humanity. He knew that these people would die someday—he had pushed emotional feelings aside…but how could he resist such warmth. They made him feel like he was alive again, like no soul was needed.
Pain gashed at his thoughts—it was all too real. He had never been a man to deny reality…on the contrary he saw it first hand and accepted it before anyone else.
When Buffy had died he had been the first to admit that she was gone—it took the others time…but the moment he saw her body he knew she was gone.
When it had come time to turn against his dark princess and his grandsire—making him join forces with his enemy, he had accepted it.
When Dawn had died he was the one who had kissed her forehead and pronounced her dead. When Red died he had been the one to call the ambulance—when the whelp died he had been the one to tell Anya.
People died…humans died.
Eventually all would be ripped from his hands—love was something he had to hold within himself…the moment he loved, love fled and left.
Love held him now, love he didn’t know possible. Golden waves of hair that danced in the warm wind and rooted it self in a small powerful figure.
As they approached the house he smelled the blood.
His stomach turned and he slowed down. He stopped at the gate. The path lay ahead.
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You were my wild companion
We were forever high, high, high
We burned the night around us
Sleeping could wait until we died
Buffy stood still as he stopped the bike. She saw the blood splattered on the concrete…the air was thick with death.
She descended first, looking back at the mourning vampire—his head was slumped and he held on to the bike’s handle until his knuckles appeared to break.
She reached out her own warm hand and took his. He looked up to her surprised.
“You’re not alone,” she said.
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You wear the scars of passion
And since the crashing came
You've broken every promise
I walked away
He heard her say: You’re not alone.
Was it real? The world seemed smaller and clustered.
Where had the sun gone? He always liked the sun.
He felt her tug at his hand.
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I watched you fall
I was blind to ya
Was lying to ya
Like everybody else who watched you fall
Say they love you but they're laughing
When you crawl
She saw he had shut himself down—she knew this because she did it when her mother died.
“You don’t have to go—we’ll call the police.”
He looked back at her.
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Fields were bright in the summer—he loved the summer sun…the smell of the fresh Hibiscus and Gardenias in the air—gentle breeze.
He turned and they were waiting for him.
“Vente, mi hijo,” (Come, my son.) Risa said smiling. Her hair was down—long thick and black, curling softly at the ends. She rarely wore it down. He loved when she wore it down—her shampoo smelled of coconut and he loved it.
She smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile back. The children danced and played on the grass, soft grass that smelled freshly cut. Sammy came riding on his pinto—Junior held on tight to his papa.
“Come home with us, Spike,” the little boy called.
Spike’s eyes watered—he knew this wasn’t real. The powers had not spoken to him in a long time—but visions came along with the whole package.
Could upper beings be so cruel?
He saw Val and Felipe walking behind and waving at him. He had seen them grow up. They were mere children the other day.
Now they were dead.
He felt a hand placed gently on his arms, his eyes turned to the bearer of the touch.
Rita stood before him…not as the old wise woman he last saw but as the young girl in her late teens. She had been so beautiful. Thick brown hair that curled in tight coils, framing her olive face that sparkled with life.
“Rita,” he breathed out before he clutched on to her—inhaling her scent.
She caressed the back of his neck, murmuring comfort words in Spanish.
When he pulled back he realized he had been crying.
She smiled at him— crocked front teeth greeted him. He couldn’t help but smile back. She felt so real.
“Find her, William, she is not among us,” she said. “She that is not among us, she that is special. Pure lights runs through her veins. She was made out of the good that was evil and the strength that never ends,” she whispered.
Spike’s brow furrowed. He hated riddles and he knew this vision was trying to tell him something.
She that is not among us? He pondered.
He looked around at the people that laughed in and ran with no care in the world.
Who was missing?
His brain worked at full speed.
“You have a short time,” Rita said. “Trust your instincts.”
The Impressionist picture before him evaporated and he found himself curled up in a ball on the warm grass, sobbing uncontrollably.
There was a warmth that surrounded him. He looked up and realized it was Buffy. She was crouched down on the floor, holding him to her and softly running her hands though his hair and over his back.
She said nothing, just comforted him with her presence.
He had no idea how he got there—all he knew was there—and whimpers escaped his mouth unfiltered.
He tried to re-compose himself.
“What was it?” she asked, concerned.
He looked around—the scent of blood was still in the air, so thick he could almost taste it.
“A vision,” he stated, as he leaned into her shoulder.
“You get those a lot,” she said.
“Only when they’re trying to tell me something,” he answered, he would have smiled as she wiped tenderly the tears from his cheeks but the pain in his chest was overwhelming.
“What did they say?” she inquired, as he sat up to compose himself.
The message came fumbling back into his thoughts.
He had to find she that was not among them.
“She that was not among them,” he whispered.
“What?” Buffy asked confused.
“I have to find ‘er,” Spike said standing up.
“Who?”
Spike thought for a moment…who was missing? He felt the answer was a second away. Risa, Sammy, Val, Junior, Felipe, and Rita.
The answer hit him like a ton of bricks. He almost fell on his butt again.
“Vanessa,” he whispered in desperation.
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Dark.
It was so dark.
Her father told her to stay there until Spike found her. She waited. All she could do to calm herself was hold on to her knees with her chubby arms and rock back and forth.
Eyes fixed on nothing but the door he would soon find.
It was so dark.
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It's such a weary feeling
When you've been stealing from yourself
Wishing the world away
Blaming someone else
Spike and Buffy searched frantically through the structure. He yelled out her name and ignored the bodies of those people they cared about.
Their one concern was to find the little girl.
The found each other—both had come up empty handed.
“Oh God, Spike, she must be so scared,” Buffy said desperately. The little girl was only five—and all alone in the world at the moment.
“She’s gotta be hidin’ or they hid ‘er,” Spike looked around.
“Vanessa!” he yelled, opening closet doors and looking under tables. “Baby, it’s me. No one is gonna hurt you, pet.”
“I think they hid her,” Buffy said as she opened another door and found an empty room.
“But where?” he thought out loud. “Think, Spike, think,” he massaged his temples in frustration.
“Where would they hide her?” she asked him. “I mean the only place that is secret is that cave where your weapons are at.”
Spike looked at her—epiphany written all over his face. It was a clear message. They both ran.
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"Vanessa!!" Spike cried out as Buffy and he ran down the tunnel that led to the secret weapons chamber.
The slayer with her heart in her throat and the vampire with thoughts running wild.
They reached the door through the darkness that consumed them, and there it was. The cold metallic door that held the child.
They didn't have the key, but they could do it--with their strength they could do it.
"Let's pull on the latch," Buffy suggested as she tried to catch her breath.
He nodded and they both grabbed the handle pulling with all their might.
No bulge.
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The darkness had sound.
The sound of voices she knew.
She sat up and looked at the door.
He was here--she could tell, her soft skin shouted it to her.
She blinked twice before her eyes adjusted to the light.
"Spike?" it was a mere whisper.
The pulling of the handle made her jump from her position.
She ran to the door and cried out, tears springing to her eyes.
"Spike!"
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Buffy's heart stopped as they both heard the little voice from the inside.
She was desperate, frightened and confused.
"Vanessa!" Spike banged at the door.
Buffy looked at his desperation. He stared back.
They both looked at each other in silent understanding, and with all their might they pulled until it snapped open--tearing iron from the lock.
The door opened slowly and the slayer pulled it towards her while Spike turned to the inside.
Before Buffy knew it Spike was on his knees, holding the little sobbing girl to his chest.
She sank down on her knees in relief.
She was alive.
The manly vampire was sobbing along with the child, whispering that everything was going to be alright.
Buffy stared in wonder. They lost everyone and the only seed left was this tiny defenseless one.
She silently swore to protect her with her life.
No one can do this for you
Straighten your head, fix your faith
Take all the pain inside you
Wash it away
Spike kissed the girl's head--reassuring himself that she was still there. Vanessa wrapped her tiny legs around his torso and would not let him go.
"I knew you would come, daddy said so," she whimpered against his chest.
"I'll always come, baby," he reassured her, kissing her tiny head again.
Buffy could have melted at the moment.
She wanted to wrap herself in his arms and stay there. She would bet money against anyone who argued that he had no soul. He didn't need one, he had more than that.
Call it humanity, call it heart, call it a conscience. Whatever it was he had it, and she loved him for it--this tiny child loved him for it.
She let them hold each other, once in a while rubbing her hand comfortingly across his back and tucking Vanessa's hair behind her ear.
The child finally recognized her, bright green eyes looked back at her.
Buffy was taken back at the color and the determination in them. She was a strong little girl that knew much more than what she led on.
She felt she knew those eyes from somewhere but she couldn't place exactly were she had seen them at.
"You're the slayer," the child stated.
Buffy smiled at her and tugged her hair behind her ear again. Vanessa sniffed and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.
"Yes, I am,' Buffy said soothingly.
Vanessa swallowed and look back at Spike.
"They're gone, aren't they?" she asked in a tiny voice.
Spike took a deep breath and nodded.
A tear ran down his face.
A little hand came out and wiped it clean, then little lips touched the spot the tear had held with a peck.
Spike tried to smile.
"Don't cry, Spike," the little child said. "Mommy always said that when people died they went to heaven, and someday we would all be in heaven together. You just have to wait--you'll see them again."
Buffy had to bite her lip and cross her arms to keep herself from holding her closely.
Spike kissed her forehead. "I know, pet, just need someone smart like you to remind me of it."
The little girl laid her head against his chest. "Will you and the slayer take care of me now?"
"Buffy, her name is Buffy," Spike said softly rocking her. "And we'll take care of you, I promise."
Vanessa gently closed her eyes.
Spike looked at Buffy once s he had fallen asleep.
"Take 'er," he said lifting her up and handing her to Buffy.
Buffy cradled the sleeping girl to her chest and continued rocking her the way Spike had done.
"Take 'er out to the bike and don't let her see," he said.
Buffy nodded and kissed her forehead.
Spike stood in front of her, a look of devastation in his eyes.
"Spike..." Buffy started.
"I'm going to kill 'er. When I find her I will kill 'er. This was my family, Buffy. She killed my family," he choked. "They were innocents." He looked down at the sleeping child. "She's an innocent. I have seen many nasty things in my life, but I hate to see the face of war on women and children."
"We'll find her," Buffy reassured him.
"I know we will." he turned and Buffy felt her heart heavy with the pain he was feeling.
He stopped and turned back to her. He walked slowly to her and leaned in.
Buffy froze as his lips lightly brushed against his.
It was a mere brush but it sent shivers up and down her spine.
"Thank you," he whispered as he pulled back.
She could only stare at his face. He was in turmoil yet he managed to stay calm and relaxed.
"You're welcome," she said back and gave him a comforting smile.
He nodded and took her elbow gently as they waked out of the tunnel.
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Helicopter lights lit the grass and the sirens were heard from far away. Spike had taken the girls to an un-affected room. Vanessa fell asleep cradled in Buffy's arms as the slayer gently combed her brown curls.
"'bout time," Spike said under his breath as he walked to the window and saw the approaching sirens.
"Should I wake her?" Buffy asked.
Spike looked back at her and frowned. "She's tired," he said. He had gone out and made sure no one was alive, covering the nude corpses of the women he had cared so much for, and calling the police to report the incident. He also called his friend, the Bogotá representative, who was acquainted with the family.
He walked over to the bed and picked up the small child, cradling her to his chest. She shifted in her sleep but the small content smile came back to her face.
He placed a small kiss on the top of her head, and looked back to Buffy.
She was smiling at him, a sad smile.
"What, slayer?" he asked looking at her.
"Nothing...just that you would have made a great father," she said sadly.
Spike's eyes sagged, then he looked at the little figure in his arms and the twinkle came back to them. "Guess now I am."
Buffy eyes widened. "You're gonna keep her?" she asked astonished.
Spike gave her an unbelieving look. "Of course I am!" he cried.
Buffy retreated and blushed. "I mean of course you are. Sorry."
"Until she don't need me anymore," he said.
Buffy smiled shyly. "Jeez, you're loyal aren't you."
Spike was taken back by the question.
"She's a lucky girl," Buffy added. "My father was not so good looking."
Spike had the decency to look confused--then realization sweapt through him. "Are you flirting with me, Summers?" he asked teasingly.
Buffy smiled and cupped his cheek. "Maybe."
Spike relaxed for what seemed like years as he leaned into her touch. "Gotta teach you some pointers."
The moment was broken when the sirens got closer to the house and with a wordless unity they walked out to meet them.
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"I love being a god," she said reclining into her velvet sofa.
"I would too," the woman said. "Yet, I must say it was rather harsh."
Glory looked at the woman. "I thought you hated him?"
The woman crossed her legs and lit a cigarette. "One hates what one loves...'ain't love grand?"
Glory laughed. "I might not have my powers, but I know how to pick stray hurt victims that do my dirty work."
The other woman crushed the cigarette under her boot with fury. "I do no such thing!"
"What's wrong, sweetheart, dipped the salt on the wound?"
"I might be working for you, but I am still my own woman. You got your fun, I want to have mine."
Glory smiled. "Don't worry, Loret, the slayer...will get what's coming to her."
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"How are you holding up?" Javier Ferrer asked as the vampire sat down across from him.
Spike took out a cigarette and the state representative instantly lit it for him.
"Thanks, mate," he said as he blew out the smoke.
Spike took an unnecessary breath and looked at Buffy who was skeptical of the man in the suit with the four bodyguards. "We're holding up," he said looking at her. She had dark shadows under her eyes and her hair was limp and dead. It reminded Spike of the last days she was alive. Glory sure knew how to hit the right buttons.
"Good, if you need anything, all you have to do is ask. If you need men--I've got them, anything you need, Mr. Rawlings.
Spike groaned. "Javier, call me Spike. Simple--learn it."
The man nodded ambiguously. "Sure thing...Spike." It felt strange to address a man of such importance with such informality but if it was his wishes he would gladly do it.
Javier took a deep breath. "I got some information," he said extending his hand. His assistant handed him a manila folder.
"What type?"
Javier's face shifted to serious. He snapped his fingers and his entire crew exited the room.
"That serious?" Spike asked raising an eyebrow.
Javier leaned forward. "I have no idea what this god is planning--she killed Chino. Therefore we don't know how much the old man knew."
"Knew about what?" Buffy broke her silence.
Javier took out a cigar and promptly lit it. He took a deep breath. "This target was coordinated. For the hellgod it was payback--for someone else it was strategy."
"What else are we dealing with?" Spike asked leaning forward.
"The case of...destiny," he said.
"Bloody 'ell, mate! You sound like unsolved mysteries!" Spike fumed. "Spit it out!"
"You see, your friend Samuel kept one secret from you, only one."
Buffy eyes the folder in his hand. "What was that?"
Javier rested his cigar on the glass ash tray and took out the papers inside.
"This is an ancient prophesy called Matusalen, taken from the council's bolt in 89'. It contained the formula for the salvation on this world in the year 2120. It dates back to 7,000 B.C. And the words are simple. One shall be born out of the good that was evil and the strength that never ends."
Spike's borrowed blood froze. The same words that the vision had told him. "Of the good that was evil and the strength that never ends?"
Javier nodded and smiled cryptically.
"Vanessa," Spike whispered.
"She's special, Spike. On those tiny shoulders rest the world. I can see the powers have aligned destiny to a T."
"What do you mean?" Buffy asked, clearly confused.
"Why do you think you were brought back, Miss. Summers?" he challenged.
"Big baddies, world needs my help--the usual," Buffy retorted.
"You take life too casually."
Buffy's lips tightened. "I have no choice."
"What if I told you that I relieve you of your slayer duties?"
Buffy and Spike froze.
"Ok, who the hell do you think you are, Mr. representative-you! One moment we're talking prophecies the next you're in my life," she cried out to him.
"Don't you see that they both correlate?" he retorted.
"Why don't you stop talking like the tree of wisdom and maybe I'll understand."
"Here," Javier said shoving papers at Buffy and Spike.
Spike studied the papers. They were blood test, Vanessa Toro's blood test.
"What is this?" Spike asked, now impatient.
"Mutation. A simple genetic mutation." he answered.
"You're saying she's not human?" Buffy asked looking at the copy of the test.
"Look," he said pointing at the numbers and letters Spike could hardly understand. "The human body contain red and white blood cells--that's the structure of out bodies--therefore the only cells that should show up on a healthy human are these two. But...Vanessa's blood not only contained red and white, but she contained pink."
"Pink?" Buffy asked, twitching her nose.
"It's simple Crayola, Miss Summers. What does a good little girl get when she mixes red and white?"
"Pink, vampires have pink cells. The mixture--it's how we survive," he said looking dazed and confused.
"Bingo!" Javier exclaimed.
"So she's a vampire?" Buffy was beyond confused.
"A mutant. The first of her kind. The future." he whispered.
"But Sammy and Risa were normal..." Spike said thoughtful.
Javier smiled and took the cigar in his mouth. Leaning back he stared at the pair.
"Don't you see? She was not their daughter...she was yours, the both of you. The daughter of a vampire and a slayer--genetically made."
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Next in the Series - Fairground
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