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Disclaimer: I own Kailyn and Tristan Summers and all their friends (Riyan, Raven, Eli, Viviane and Sarah), Meredith Kingsley and Ellomiran. The rest of the characters belong to Joss Whedon, the WB, Fox, Mutant Enemy and so on and so forth.
Author's Notes: This fits with the show up to "Killed By Death" and then splits off. I know Angel once mentioned that he couldn't have children, but I'm figuring that he probably never tried it out, so he wouldn't really know. I live for comments, so please email me and tell me what you think!
Part 1
Joyce freaked when she found out. Well, freaked wasn’t really a strong enough word. More like a seizure really. Her sweet little girl . . . sure, she’d had troubled times, but that was behind them now. Or at least, she’d thought so. And to find out . . . Well, Joyce had trouble. She screamed, she admonished, she cried. Buffy sat on her bed and sobbed her eyes out. Of course, that was nothing compared to Giles’ reaction.
"It’s not like you didn’t know we . . . It was kind of obvious!" Buffy screamed at him after he screamed at her.
"But you’re the Slayer! You should . . . You can’t be stupid enough to just . . ."
"Well it seems that I am Giles!" Buffy screamed, her throat tightening again and the tears rushing up. She’d cried so much in the last few days since she found out . . . it seemed impossible that there were more tears left in her.
Then again, anything was possible.
"You’re sure?" Giles demanded, obviously trying to control his rage and think of what to do.
"I took the test twenty ****ing times!" Buffy screamed.
"There are things that can be done about this," Giles said, trying to reason himself around the situation.
"No," Buffy said, "There aren’t." He looked at her in suprise–if he could still feel suprise. "I won’t Giles. I won’t do it."
"You’re the Slayer!" he exclaimed. "You have a sacred duty! Nothing must interfere with that!"
"This must!" Buffy screamed. "And I’m not the Slayer! Not anymore! I give up, I give it back! Get on the phone and call up Kendra, the perfect little handbook Slayer, who would never do something this stupid! I’m obviously not good enough, so fine! I’ll go! Get someone else!" She grabbed the cross around her neck and yanked; a Slayer’s strength broke the chain easily. She slammed it to the table, turned and walked out of the library forever, tears streaming down her face and her hands cradling her womb, where a new life was just beginning to grow.
It would be so easy to have an abortion. Just go to the clinic and finish it. So easy and so very, very hard. Because whatever little being was beginning to grow inside her . . . that was all she had of him. That was the only thing that she had of their love. She’d thrown away the cross, and the ring . . . well, that was too much. She couldn’t wear it, not and function like even the semblance of a normal, healthy person. Too much.
And how will a child not be too much? a part of her asked. A small, worried voice inside her head. How will a living, walking, talking, breathing little Angel not be too much? But somehow, it wouldn’t be. She knew that. It wouldn’t be him, but it would be a reminder. A way to hold on to the man he’d been. The man she loved. The man that had loved her. Something–someone–that represented that one perfect night that had led to so much horror. So much death and pain. She’d been hurt so much, she needed someone to heal her. A baby. Someone to take her away from the life she couldn’t live anymore. To give her a reason to live again.
Soon, this baby would be the only good left of Angel in all the world. Soon there wouldn’t even be a chance of bringing him back.
Willow’s eyes were red with crying, but she managed a smile for Buffy anyway. Beside her, Xander couldn’t. He was still in shock. Willow had already known some of it, but Xander had been too busy with women-troubles and Buffy hadn’t pointed it out. So when she told him what was going on it had been a double shock. He’d hardly spoken to even Willow and Cordelia.
"We’ll miss you," Willow said, trying to be cheerful and failing miserably.
"I’ll miss you guys too, but it’s better this way," Buffy said. Kendra had arrived in town the day before and now Buffy was leaving. Until October at least, and probably longer. No one wanted to discuss the future.
"Take care of yourself," Xander said hollowly. Buffy managed a small smile.
"I will. Don’t let Cordy get you down," she said. He almost smiled.
"I won’t."
"Willow, I’ll call you next full moon, okay?"
"Okay. You’ll be at your dad’s right?"
"Definitely. Um . . . I have to go," Buffy said, biting her lips. Tears were welling in her eyes again, and she fought desperately to blink them back.
"Good bye," Willow whispered, hugging her best friend tightly and kissing her cheek.
"Bye Will," Buffy whispered. She hugged Xander.
"Good bye Buffy," he said, and she knew he meant it in every sense.
"Good bye Xander," she replied, pulling away. Though her lips trembled and tears spilled over onto her cheeks, she said good bye one last time and turned away, walking out of Willow’s house without a backward glance. At home her mother was waiting to take her to L.A. Not that she’d do any better there, but her mother wanted to get her away from Angel . . . she thought he was a college student gone demented. Buffy couldn’t tell her the truth for obvious reasons. In L.A. she’d be cooped up, but she’d be safe and so would her baby. That was what important. That the baby was safe.
Away from Willow’s house, Buffy suddenly turned from the route to her own, walking instead to a dark alley where she’d once attacked a man following her . . .
Ten minutes later she did it again, but he was ready this time. He caught her legs and flipped her to the ground. She stared up at him, then kicked him into a wall and stood up.
"Hello Angel," she said softly, showing no sign of her distress in her face or voice.
"Good evening Buffy," he replied. "What brings you out here?" She shrugged softly.
"Haven’t seen you for a while. Not since I almost killed you."
"Not since you couldn’t."
"Well, a few things have changed since then. You’d be amazed with how much a little blue strip can alter things," Buffy said softly. He didn’t know what she was talking about, though he hid it well. Being Angel–or Angelus–he couldn’t show confusion.
"Indeed? Can you kill me now?" His mocking tone doubted her ability. Buffy knew he wouldn’t doubt for long.
"Yes," she replied, and before he could say anything she had flipped forward and delivered a roundhouse kick to his face, pushing him backwards into the wall again. He was up in a second, his game face on, but they both knew he didn’t have a chance. In seconds Buffy had him down again, a stake at his chest.
"You’re going to be a father," she informed him. There was just enough time for his face to register shock and something else–malicious glee maybe–before the stake plunged in and he was turning to dust.
Buffy dropped the stake, stood up and walked out of the alley, bitter
tears wetting cheeks that had seen too many tears for a lifetime, hands
cradling a stomach that was just beginning to show signs of the life
residing in it. The lives residing in it.