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Part 1
Wow, this is lots of fun. Witness me having fun, Buffy thought, weaving her way through the people loitering in her hallway. Yeah, about as much fun as having teeth pulled. Her friends had so graciously thrown her this lovely party, probably so they could avoid her and the whole running-away-for-the- summer-and-never-calling-and-telling-them-she-was-still-breathing issue. They were all still a little sour about that whole thing. Well, it was working. Willow couldn’t even look her in the eye and Xander and Cordy were making her sick with their public display of affection.
It was pretty obvious they didn’t want her there. They couldn’t forgive her for abandoning them, not that they knew the whole story or what she was going through.
They just wouldn’t understand.
Making her way towards the kitchen, she paused when she heard voices coming from inside. Immediately, she recognized the voice of her mother, and then after a beat the voice of that Pat lady, who sort of reminded Buffy of a cross between Martha Stewart and...hmm. No, just Martha Stewart. In a weird, perky sort of way. Leaning closer, she heard part of their conversation.
“Now, how you holding up, Joyce, hmm? Really,” Pat asked, her voice full of concern.
“Really? I'm...I don't know,” Joyce answered, then almost hesitantly said, “While Buffy was gone, all I could think about was getting her home. I just knew that if I could put my arms around her and tell her how much I loved her, everything would be okay.”
“But?” Pat pressed, knowing there was something else.
“Having Buffy home, I-I thought it was gonna make it all better...but in some ways, it's almost worse.”
Buffy turned, not wanting to hear anything else. That did it. She’d be leaving Sunnydale. For good this time.
No one wanted or needed her there. Buffy rushed up the stairs with tears in her eyes, passing people, who just stared after her, puzzled.
“Isn’t that the chick this party’s for? What’s her deal?” one of the party- goers asked his friend, who took note of Buffy’s flight up the stairs. His friend shrugged, and they went back to bobbing their heads along with the music, trying to look cool.
Buffy reached her room, closing the door partially behind her. Wiping the tears from her face, she walked over to her bed and pulled a bag out from under it. Going to her closet, she pulled out some jeans and a couple t- shirts. She wouldn’t need anything fancy, she just took what she would need to survive.
Numbly, she continued to pack, her mother’s words echoing in her mind. They didn’t need her? Well, she didn’t need them. Buffy was angry now, angry at her friends for not understanding, angry at her mother for not accepting who she really was and the burden she carried, angry at the world for making her sacrifice her Angel to save it. The tears continued to stream down her face.
Maybe she could go move back with Lily...Anne, or whatever her name was now. Buffy could help her take care of herself. She needed to get away. She was just in the way now.
Still shoving things in her bag, Buffy didn’t hear Willow quietly enter her room. Taking a glance at the bed, she realized what was happening, what Buffy was going to do.
She was going to abandon them.
Again.
“You're leaving again?” Willow asked, breaking the silence. Buffy jumped a little, glanced at her, then resumed her packing. “What, you just stopped by for your lint brush and now you're ready to go?”
“It's not like anyone will mind,” Buffy said, not meeting Willow’s gaze again. She had made up her mind, this was what she had to do.
“Oh, no. Have a great time. Oh, oh, and don't forget to not write,” Willow said, angry now. She couldn’t believe Buffy, the almighty Slayer, was running away from her friends. She wanted to help, but Buffy just wouldn’t talk to her.
“Why are you attacking me? I'm trying,” Buffy sobbed, shocked that Willow was accusing her when it was their fault she was leaving again.
“Wow, and it looks so much like giving up!” Willow’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“I'm just trying to make things easier,” Buffy said, sounding like a child trying to get out of something.
“For who?”
“You guys were doing just fine without me,” Buffy said, telling her what she thought without letting on how hurt and angry she was about the whole thing.
“We were doing the best we could!” Willow cried, trying to make Buffy see that they weren’t doing ‘just fine’ without her. “It's not like we had a lot of choice in the matter.”
“Sorry that I had to leave,” Buffy said, looking at her. “But you don't know what I was going through.” The pain in her voice was very clear.
“Well, I'd like to,” she said quietly, her heart beginning to open up to Buffy. The pain on her face...maybe there was something Willow didn’t know, something that had happened between Buffy and Angel.
“You wouldn't understand,” Buffy said, looking away. Willow tried again.
“Well, maybe I don't need to understand. Maybe I...I just need you to talk to me.”
“How could I talk to you when you were avoiding me?” Buffy demanded, the anger present in her voice. Willow had barely said two words to her when she had tried to talk. She was the one who had stood Buffy up when they were supposed to meet for coffee.
“This isn't easy, Buffy! I know you're going through stuff, but...so am I,” Willow said.
“I know that you were worried about me, but...”
“No! I don't just mean that. I mean, my life! You know? I, um...I'm having all sorts of... I'm dating, I'm having serious dating with a werewolf, a-and I'm studying witchcraft and killing vampires, and I didn't have anyone,” her voice cracked as her emotions began to pour out, “To talk to about all this scary life stuff. And you were my best friend.” Buffy flinched at the term “were.”
“You have no idea how much I missed you. Everyone. I wanted to call every day,” Buffy nodded as she spoke, as if that would convince Willow how sorry she was.
“That doesn't matter, Buffy. It doesn't make it okay that you didn't.” Suddenly, Buffy mother walked into the room. Seeing the bag on Buffy’s bed, she put two and two together and realized Buffy was going to run away again.
“What is this? Is this some sort of sick joke?” Joyce demanded, glancing from Willow to Buffy.
“Mom, please, could you, could you just...” Buffy asked, her eyes pleading with her mother for a few more minutes alone with Willow.
“No, I can't just! Buffy, what is this?” Joyce asked again, her voice rising as she did.
“She was running away again,” Willow answered bluntly. Buffy looked away from her mother, ashamed.
“No, I wasn't,” she paused, searching for words, totally confused by everything that was happening. “I...I'm not sure.”
“Well, you better get sure and explain yourself right away! If you think you can just take off any time you feel like...”
“Stop it!,” Buffy cried, tears falling freely. “Please! I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing.” Tearing past Willow and her mother, she ran downstairs. She needed to get out, to get away. They wouldn’t understand, they would never understand. They didn’t seem to want to offer her any sympathy for all that she had been through.
Rushing down the stairs, she strided into the living room (the front door had been blocked by some people from the party) with Joyce and Willow at her heels. She almost walked right into Xander and Cordelia, who were busy being all gropey, making most people in the room completely sick.
“Don't you leave this house, young lady!” Joyce warned, but Buffy continued her determined walk. Angry, Joyce increased her pace. “You know what? That's it.” She grabbed Buffy’s arm and swung her around, making her look at her mother. “You and I are going to have a talk,” she said, her voice full of authority, oblivious to the people around her.
Noticing the confrontation, the band stopped playing mid-song and everyone grew silent. Hearing the quiet, Buffy looked around her to see everyone staring at them.
“Mom, please...” she begged, not wanting her mother to make a scene. Xander and Cordelia walked over to join them.
“You know what? I don't care,” Joyce said, anger in her tone. “I don't care what your friends think of me, or you for that matter, because you put me through the wringer, Buffy,” she inhaled a breath, then continued. “I mean it,” Joyce exhaled and inhaled again. “And I've had schnapps. Do you have any idea what it's been like?”
“Mom, this isn't the time...” Buffy said, embarrassed by the scene her mother was making. Willow saw her distress and looked around, worriedly. Oz came up and stood beside her.
“You can't imagine...months of not knowing. Not knowing whether you're lying dead in a ditch somewhere or, I don't know, living it up--” Buffy suddenly interrupted.
“But you told me!” she cried, angry right back. She could not believe this. Didn’t her mother remember what she’s said that night? “You're the one who said I should go. You said if I leave this house, don't come back. You found out who I really was, and you just couldn't deal. You couldn’t handle the truth!!!! Don't you remember?” God, did her mother just totally forget that night, that night when all had changed?
“Buffy, you didn't give me time,” Joyce said. “You just dumped this thing on me and you expected me to get it. Well, guess what? Mom's not perfect, okay? I handled it badly. But that doesn't give you the right to punish me by running away!”
“Punish you? I didn't do this to punish you!” Buffy said, bewildered. By now most of the people that were at the party had sort of made their way over to the door and left, feeling very awkward as they did so. No one noticed their departures.
“Well, you did,” Xander said, joining in. “You should've seen what you put her through.”
“Great. Thanks,” Buffy cried, almost at the breaking point. “Anybody else want to weigh in here? How about you by the dip?” The guy Buffy was talking to froze in the middle of bringing a dip-laden chip to his mouth. Nervously, he glanced around.
“No, thanks. I'm good.”
“You know, maybe you don't want to hear it, Buffy, but taking off like you did was incredibly selfish and stupid,” Xander said his voice rising as he let out the anger he felt, and the hurt and betrayal.
“No, it wasn’t. I needed time to deal. What can’t you understand about that? Okay, so I guess I screwed up. But you have no idea! You have...you have no idea what happened to me or what I was feeling!” Buffy cried, her voice steady, but her emotions playing over her face. Hurt...anger, yeah, it was mostly anger, Willow observed. Even she couldn’t believe how Xander was treating the Slayer. The Slayer, who looked so weak and vulnerable at that moment, made that way by one of her best friends ripping into her for abandoning them all without a trace.
“Did you even try talking to anybody?” he asked.
“There was nothing that anybody could do. Okay? I just had to deal with this on my own,” she said quietly.
“Oh yeah? What was so horrible that you had to skip town for three months to deal with?” he challenged. “I thought you were ‘ready’ to kill Angel.”
“Wrong. I was ready to kill Angelus. I was never ready to kill Angel,” Buffy said, shaking her head as she said it. “But, I guess some people,” she looked hard at Xander, “Can’t tell the difference between the two,” her voice full of accusations.
“What difference is there, huh? Angel is a killer.”
“Hold up a minute there, Nighthawk,” Buffy said, seeing how it stung. “Angelus is the killer. Angel’s the one stuck picking up the pieces that Angelus left behind. But you wanna know what I had to deal with for three months, and I’m still dealing with right now, huh Xander? Do you really want to know?” she screamed.
Xander held his ground, although he flinched a little. “Yeah, Buffy, enlighten me,” he challenged.
“Ok, let’s see what you think about this. I didn’t send Angelus to hell,” she paused, waiting to deliver the punch. She saw confusion on their faces, with just a hint of knowing what she was about to say. Boy, she couldn’t wait to see their reactions. “I sent Angel.”
They all stared at her, stunned, except Joyce, who was completely lost now. Angel? Angel, Buffy’s boyfriend? The one she and that Spike character had talked about killing? she thought, utterly confused.
Buffy glanced hard at all their faces, watched realization dawn on them. On Willow’s she suddenly saw a flood of compassion and the tears that sprang to her eyes. She broke down completely at that point, floods of tears gushing from her eyes.
“There, are you happy?” she cried hysterically, beyond the point of self- control. Turning to Xander, she continued to yell in his face. “It wasn’t Angelus. I was all set to kill him, the bastard,” her voice suddenly growing soft. “Then we rediscovered the curse. And I guess Willow tried it again.” Buffy’s eyes grew wide as she remembered something.
Remembering, that morning on the road.
“I can’t protect you. I’m gonna be too busy killing.”
“Now, that’s a new look for you.”
“It’s a present for Angel.”
“Willow. She wanted me to tell you...”
"Tell me what?"
"Kick his ass."
Searching his face, she knew it was true. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew Willow was gonna try the curse again,” she whispered quietly, dangerously, her eyes conveying all the pain and betrayal she was feeling. “And you didn’t even tell me?”
Xander looked away, not being able to stand the accusing stare in Buffy eyes, the betrayal, the hurt. “I didn’t want you to suddenly get some false hope that your honey would be coming back,” he said, desperate almost, trying to show why he had done it. “You needed to be strong. He would’ve killed you if you had known.”
Willow stepped up beside Buffy, her eyes accusing too. “Xander...you mean you didn’t even tell her?” she asked in disbelief. How could he?
“No. I didn’t. I thought--”
“Well you thought wrong!!!” Buffy interrupted. “It wasn’t your decision to make. It was mine and you had no right to make that decision for me. I can’t believe you!!!!!”
They were all staring at Xander now, which began to make him very angry. Why couldn’t anyone see it the way he did? Angel had been a killer, he’d murdered Ms. Calendar, for God’s sake, and yet they had all been so eager to help bring him back.
“God, you people really don’t see it, do you? He was a killer. Do you guys remember a little computer teacher we had named Ms. Calendar? And where is she now? Oh yeah, she’s six feet under. And it’s all Angel’s fault,” Xander cried, looking to Cordy for support. She just stared back at him with repulsion.
“Xander...I can’t believe you let your petty little jealousy kick get in the way of true love,” Cordelia said, shaking her head. Buffy stared at her in amazement. Cordelia Chase, Cordelia Chase, had stuck up for her to her own boyfriend. Wow, and who said miracles didn’t happen?
“It wasn’t jealousy...it was...concern. Yeah, concern for you guys. I didn’t want him to hurt you, any of you, the next time him and Buffy decided to be impulsive. Why can’t anyone see that? We’re all better off with him gone!!” Xander exclaimed, then saw Buffy turning to him, and braced himself.
“And what about me?” she whispered, with such an ache in her voice that made everyone’s heart break, her eyes conveying how she felt. “Am I really better off? He was...he was my everything. My other half. My soul mate. My one true love. He was the only one who truly...understood how dangerous what I do is. He kept me sane. And now he’s in hell suffering an eternity of torture and pain...all because of me. You have no idea...the guilt, the heartache, the feeling that there’s nothing left for me.” Buffy paused, trying to regain her composure, even as a whole new flood of tears coursed down her face.
“His eyes haunt me,” she continues slowly, her voice was slow, she wasn’t rushing, she wanted everything to sink in. From her voice alone, they could feel her heartache, it was getting to be too much for them to bear...
“Constantly...every time I close my eyes...I see them as they had been when I plunged that sword into him, damning him to hell forever. The betrayal...the hurt. And the love. That’s the part that kills me the most. How he still loved me...with his last moment on Earth I could tell he loved me with his heart and soul. And I loved him. Love him. I’ll never stop. There’ll never be anyone else.
“And are you even grateful?” she suddenly cried out, daring anyone to speak. No one did, they were in shock. All of them, listening to Buffy’s heartbreaking words as she recounted what she had done, had been forced to do.
For their sake, for the sake of humanity.
“Are you even grateful for the sacrifice I made...for the sacrifice he made? He saved you all, God dammit, and you don’t even care,” Buffy cried, then lowered her voice back down to that heart-breaking whisper. “You don’t even care. You’re not grateful!! You wanted to see him gone!! You didn’t even want him to come back...for my sake,” she trailed off, her eyes focused on Xander, hurting him more than words could express.
“Buffy...” Willow started, unsure of what to say to her best friend, the Slayer, the Chosen One, the one who had saved the world and risked her life too many times to count...and the one who had suffered and endured more than Willow could ever be able to imagine.
“I do care. I really do. I’m so grateful...and thankful that you once again saved the world. I...I wish I could help,” Willow’s voice cracked as tears cascaded down her face. “I wish I could help,” she repeated, this time in a whisper.
But Buffy wasn’t listening, not really. Her subconscious was, but mostly she was about to break down, mentally and emotionally, from the burden she carried.
She couldn’t take it anymore.
With one last pained look at Xander, she spun and bolted for the door, throwing it open and almost barreling over Giles, who stood with his hand raised, ready to knock.
Without a word to him, she skittered down the porch steps and dashed down the street, in moments disappearing from view. Bewildered, he turned back and jumped out of the way as everyone ran after her. But she had too much of a head start, and the Slayerettes and her mother just stood on the sidewalk, unsure of what to do next. Actually, they were missing one.
Xander.
He stood in the living room, stunned.
“Wha..What’s going on? I...so sorry I’m late, where is Buffy going?” Giles asked the Slayerettes, who had turned and walked back up to the Summers’ house. He looked down and saw Willow, Cordelia, and Joyce in tears, and a wave of concern washed over him. Gently, he took Cordelia and Joyce by their elbows as Oz took Willow, and guided them into the house where they sat in the living room in silence.
“What happened?” Giles asked, glancing at all the faces. The faces of the ones who were the Slayer’s closest friends. He could tell it was about Buffy.
Willow spoke first...or rather, tried to speak first. She opened her mouth and a whimper escaped her lips, before she shut them and tried again. This time, it actually worked.
“Angel...Angel was...was cured. He...his soul was restored. The curse worked,” she said quietly, her voice empty. Giles stared at her. Dear God, he thought, that would mean....that Buffy sent Angel... He urged her to proceed.
“I guess...she didn’t know--that I was gonna try again. Angel pulled the sword out of Acathla,” Willow said, drawing in raged breaths and leaning into Oz’s arms, grateful for his support. “I don’t know what...what happened next...then Angel got his soul back and it was too late.”
“Okay, I’ve been lost from the beginning. What is going on?” Joyce asked. The others just stared at her, forgetting that she had just been brought into this not three months ago, and then Buffy had taken off, so she had never heard anything like this before.
To think of her baby, uttering those soul-wrenching words...those words of lost love....lost hope....was too much for Joyce to bear.
“Umm...it’s a rather..complicated story. It...it’s also one we--we don’t have time for right now. I believe we should...should concentrate on finding Buffy and making sure she doesn’t do anything...rash,” Giles said, then got up from his seat on the couch and began to pace around the room.
“We-we need to figure out where she might have gone.”