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Part 4
June, 2003
Buffy pulled into the preschool parking lot and glanced around for a spot. She saw one and parked quickly, glancing at her reflection in the rear view mirror before opening the car door and climbing out.
"This is a pleasant suprise," a familiar voice said. Buffy sighed and turned wearily to meet the eyes of everyone’s favorite demon.
"My my, imagine meeting you here," she said. Whistler grinned.
"Good to see you too," he said. Buffy crossed her arms and began tapping her foot impatiently. His smile faded. "All right, so the news isn’t good, you don’t have to give me that look. I don’t make the bad things. I just try and stop them."
"Just tell me why you’re here," Buffy commanded. He shrugged.
"It’s Kailyn," he said. Buffy went stiff.
"What about Kailyn?" she asked warily.
"She’s got a lot of her father in her," Whistler said. "Not the good one either, though she’s got some of him. The other one."
"You’re telling me she inherited qualities from Angelus?" Buffy asked in disbelief. He didn’t say anything but his eyes said that was exactly what he was telling her. "You’re not for real!"
"Sorry to say I am. She’s got a lot of you in her too, so she’s not a lost cause by any means. Far from it. But she’s gonna have to work hard. Being bad is easier than being good."
"You’re saying my daughter is fundamentally evil?" Buffy demanded.
"Not fundamentally. At her core she’d as good as you or me. She’s got a Slayer’s soul. But she’s gonna have to work to find that core. She has to find her center or we’ll all be lost."
"She’s four years old!" Buffy exclaimed. "You can’t expect her to find her ‘center’!"
"I don’t. But it’s going to start and you needed to be warned. That’s all."
"So you warned me," Buffy said grimly.
"Right. I know it sounds insane, but you have to trust me on this one. Kailyn’s gonna need you. You and Tristan are all she has and if she’s gonna pull through, she’ll need you to help her."
"I’m with her for whatever she needs," Buffy said fiercely, scared to her insides that what he said was true. She’d seen in, even in a little four year old girl. She’d seen the moments when her eyes were yellow and not just from hunger. She’s seen the demon and she wasn’t going to let her daughter be taken by it like the man she’d loved had been five years before. She wouldn’t let that happen.
"I hope so," Whistler said softly. Buffy turned on her heel and began walking towards the preschool to pick up Tristan and Kailyn. "I certainly hope so."
"Ms. Summers?" Buffy stopped and turned, hitching a half-asleep Tristan higher on her hip.
"Mommy!" Kailyn cried, tugging on her.
"In a minute," Buffy said, wondering how it could be time for one of them to nap while the other was wide awake and rambunctious. She turned to the preschool teacher—her name was Miranda. "What can I do for you?"
"It’s about Kailyn," Miranda said cautiously. Buffy felt a chill go through her, remembering Whistler’s words only moments before.
"Mommy, can I go play?" Kailyn pleaded.
"For a minute," Buffy said, releasing her hand. Kailyn ran off to join her friends, blond braids swinging. Tristan mumbled drowsily and she shifted him to her front, stroking his dark hair softly. She faced Miranda again. "What exactly was it about Kailyn?" The other woman looked hesitant.
"I’ll be blunt . . . she bit a boy today."
"Is he all right?" Buffy asked, scared to death. What if she . . . but Miranda was nodding.
"He’s fine. He was shocked, but she didn’t break the skin. No harm done. Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time Kailyn’s shown aggressive tendencies. She’s a wonderful, intelligent, sweet, darling little girl, but she has a quick temper and her natural leadership qualities can turn into natural bullying qualities," Miranda said. Buffy felt like she’d been physically punched. Hard. Whistler had been right. She hated to even imagine it, but Whistler had been right. "Ms. Summers?"
"Yes! Sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll talk to Kailyn. I promise this won’t happen again," Buffy said firmly. The teacher was eyeing her uncertainly, but nodded. "Has Tristan shown the same qualities?"
"Oh no. Tristan’s a darling, and so talented for a boy his age! He’s nearly reading already!" Buffy managed a faint smile.
"Thank you. I’ll have a talk with Kailyn tonight and this won’t happen again," Buffy repeated, a promise to herself as much as to the teacher.
"Good," Miranda said. "Thank you." Buffy nodded and turned away, calling to Kailyn. She shifted Tristan to her right hip and grabbed Kailyn’s hand with her right as the little girl came running over to her.
"What’s the matter Mommy?" Kailyn asked, looking up at her mother with innocent eyes. Innocent dark eyes. His eyes. She’d always loved them. Until they changed, as he did. But was it the eyes she’d loved or the ones she’d hated that looked at her from her daughter’s face?
"Kailyn, Miranda told me you bit a little boy today," Buffy said, sitting cross-legged beside her daughter. Kailyn nodded, not looking up from the rubber ball she was bouncing.
"Mommy, I’m hungry!" Tristan cried.
"Dinner’s almost ready Trist," Buffy promised. "Kailyn, what do you have to say for yourself?"
"I was hungry," the little girl said. "And he wouldn’t give me the orange crayon!" Buffy took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
"Kailyn, look at me," she said. The little girl obediently looked up. "We never, ever bite humans for food. Never. It’s very bad and you don’t do it. We don’t do it."
"Okay," Kailyn agreed immediately.
"And we don’t bite for any other reason either. We never bite. It’s not nice," Buffy instructed.
"Okay."
"You promise you won’t bite anymore?" Buffy asked.
"Promise," Kailyn said cheerfully, and went back to bouncing her ball.
"Mommy, I’m still hungry!" Tristan exclaimed. Buffy sighed and looked over at him; her little boy that looked so like his father, but looked at her with her own eyes. She looked back to Kailyn, who was the very image of Buffy as a little girl. Except the eyes. Except her eyes, that had been his. Buffy watched her daughter and prayed she would find herself before it was too late.
"Congratulations sweetie," Joyce said, kissing her daughter’s cheek.
"We’re really proud of you," Hank said.
"Mommy graduated!" Tristan exclaimed, clapping. Buffy laughed and scooped him up. He wrapped his legs around her waist and kissed her.
"Yay for Mommy!" Kailyn exclaimed. Tristan began to wriggle and Buffy set him down, turning to face her parents. It had been hard, and she couldn’t have done it without them. For a long time she’d thought she wouldn’t be able to do it at all. For the first few years it had seemed an impossible dream . And then her father had come to her one day and asked if she wanted to go back to high school . And she had said yes, because being years older than everyone else in her grade didn’t matter; a diploma mattered, and now she had one.
"My little girl’s all grown up," Joyce said, blinking back tears. Buffy laughed; it felt good to laugh. She’d been grown up years ago, but it took a piece of paper to make her mother admit it.
"Mom, I kinda think I’m past that stage. Y’ know, when I had kids and all, that felt pretty grown up to me," Buffy said. Not to mention the Slaying. Not to mention Angel. I wonder if he’d be proud of me, she thought suddenly. She knew he would be. Angel had always been so much older and smarter. Hopefully the twins had inherited his brains and her lo—no, make that his brains and his looks.
"I know honey, it’s just . . ."
"Different. I know Mom. It’s amazing. I actually graduated. Finally. And I’m going to college."
"Community college," Joyce pointed out. Buffy made a face.
"I know, I know. So it’s not prestigious—but it’s college! That’s pretty good."
"It’s wonderful," Hank said.
"Mommy, can we go play?" Tristan asked, pointing to a large lawn nearby. Buffy nodded, smiling and they ran off hand in hand. She watched them, smiling. She wouldn’t trade them for anything; not even for graduating with her friends. Willow and Cordy were juniors in college now. That was pretty amazing. And here she was graduating from high school. But she had something they didn’t. Someones.
"I wish you would come back to Sunnydale," Joyce murmured, watching her grandchildren. Buffy didn’t turn to look at her mother.
"It has too many . . . bad memories," she said, sighing. And too many vampires. There was another Slayer there, but if she went back she knew she wouldn’t be able to help Slaying again. And she couldn’t put the children in that kind of danger. She couldn’t do it.
"I know," Joyce said, sighing as well. "I just wish I could see them more, and since you’re not in high school anymore, I thought I’d try . . ." Buffy cast a small smile at her mother.
"No harm in that. We could come visit maybe. For a little while. Oh, Tristan’s down, I better go get him," Buffy said, wincing at his cry. She jogged over and picked up her son. She hadn’t seen what happened, but she thought they were roughhousing and Kailyn had gotten a little too rough. Buffy soothed Tristan, her eyes going beyond him to Kailyn, who was watching with a sad look. But what Buffy saw wasn’t the sad look; what Buffy saw and what frightened her more than anything, was the slight gleam in Kailyn’s dark eyes.
Buffy woke slowly, lazily, stretching her arms above her head and arching her body like a cat, all without opening her eyes. She sighed softly before she heard it; there was nothing soft about the opening of her eyes, the tensing of her body. It was night and there was somebody in her bedroom.
The someone was Angel.
Angel’s ghost.
The memories came flooding back as she lay there, looking at up him in the darkness. All the other times he had appeared to her like this, all the conversations they’d had, the strength he’d given her in the past four years. She never remember the next day, but the next time he came to her made up for that, because she remembered everything again.
"Congratulations," he said softly. It took a moment before she realized what he was talking about; remembered her own, real, daytime life.
"Thank you," she replied, still amazed that she was really out of high school. It had been so long and so hard. When she’d gotten pregnant, she assumed that was the end. But here she was with a diploma and two children, headed to college.
Two children.
Buffy remembered Kailyn and began to cry.
"I’m so scared Angel. I’m so scared for her. My poor baby. Being the Slayer is hard enough—so hard. I know. But fighting a demon too—you know what that is Angel. But I don’t. I don’t know how to help her, what to tell her. I don’t know what to do and what if I fail her? What if I don’t teach her the right way and she loses herself to the bad part? What if she loses herself and the world is lost because she’s the Slayer and she’s supposed to be good? Poor Kailyn. She’s just a little girl. Just a little girl," Buffy sobbed, wishing he could hold her. His eyes held the same wish, but it was impossible. He was a ghost. She had killed him.
Buffy pushed herself up to sitting, the tears still coursing down her cheeks.
"Kailyn won’t lose herself. She’s your daughter—she’s stronger than that. She may have a hard time, but she’ll win. And there’s no clause for her, not curse that can be removed. Her good part is permanent. It’s strong and it’s real and it’s not going to be taken away or defeated Buffy. She won’t become Angelus. I promise." Buffy’s sobs intensified; that was her real, true fear and he could say it when she couldn’t. She had lost the man she loved, watched him hurt the people she loved, felt him hurt her. She had killed him. She couldn’t do that to her daughter. She couldn’t.
"Are you sure? Do you promise?" Buffy asked in a whisper.
"I promise. Kailyn will be all right. I’ll help her."
"How?" Buffy asked.
"As I help you."
"Will she remember it?" Buffy asked.
"Maybe, now. Not when she’s older. But it doesn’t matter if she remembers specific incidences or words; she’ll have it inside her. I’ll help her."
"Will you start soon? Now?" Buffy asked.
"Tonight," Angel promised. "Don’t cry, love. It will be all right." But
Buffy couldn’t help it, because even with his words she was too scared
to be still.