|
|
Part 2
1860
“If vampires can have coming out parties than I should be able to have one,”
Alyssa pointed out the next day. She heard Stephan’s footsteps—he had been
pacing the floor—stop, and looked up from her book to see his reaction. He
was leaning against the mantelpiece over the fireplace, watching her with a
very strange expression on his face.
“I somehow doubt Drusilla is planning a conventional coming out party of which the ton would approve,” he pointed out.
“Of course not, but she’s having one and at the moment, that is better than me. Besides, if I did come out, I’d have much better opportunities to route out all those ‘gentlemen’ vampires. Or gentlewomen, I suppose. You know, the ones killing people at balls and such. It happens every Season, and I really ought to put a stop to it,” Alyssa said firmly. “It is my duty after all.” Stephan snorted.
“Duty indeed. You just want to dance all night,” he said.
“Can you blame me? Oh, Stephan, I do so want to learn to waltz! Everyone’s doing it! Everyone but me. I must be the only seventeen year old young lady of good birth who hasn’t danced the waltz even once! I haven’t danced any other dances, for that matter. Not a single one since Mama and Papa died. Three years without any dancing! It’s simply too much, even for me. I want a coming out ball and I want to have a Season!” Alyssa exclaimed.
“You know it isn’t possible. You don’t have the time. Especially with Angelus and William back—and with a new vampire. She seems dangerous, unstable—”
“Insane is the word you’re looking for Stephan. Not suprising really. I suppose Angelus drove her insane and then turned her into a vampire. Poor girl. At least, she was. Now I’m sure she doesn’t really regret it. She seems so young, though she must be at least as old as I. That dress she was wearing made her look like a little girl, and the way she talked about having a party . . . she has the mind of a child, but she’s a vampire. And, from what I could feel of her, rather a powerful one,” Alyssa said, sighing.
“What a treat,” Stephan said dryly.
“You don’t have to fight her at least. She’ll be totally unpredictable—always doing just the opposite of what one thinks she will do. It’s very hard to fight someone who never does what they ought to do.” Alyssa sighed, then looked up at Stephan slyly, a smile springing to her lips. “For instance, it’s very easy to beat you, because you’re so predictable . . .” she teased softly. He sighed.
“This is really not the time for jokes Alyssa. We are in potentially dire straits. And it’s no time for nonsense about coming out either. From now on, we stick totally to the handbook,” Stephan said firmly. Alyssa made a face.
“That is the singularly dullest book ever written, which is quite a feat, seeing as it’s all about vampires and such, which ought to be exciting material really. Oh, no, I just realized, it’s only second. ‘Elements,’ by Euclid is duller. Actually, I think there’s a Law of Physics that says it’s impossible for any book to be duller than ‘Elements.’ There ought to be, anyway,” Alyssa said, nodding sharply.
“Alyssa!” Stephan said warningly. She started, then sighed, settling down again.
“Oh. Sorry, Stephan. But it’s true. The handbook is incredibly dull and not very useful. No one could really live like that. I don’t think I even have it anymore. No, I don’t, I remember now, I had to burn it to keep the fire going one night when I was stuck out in the moors. I can’t say I didn’t get much more from the fire than from that book!” Alyssa exclaimed.
“I don’t know why I even gave that to you,” Stephan said, taking his spectacles off and rubbing at his head as if it hurt. “It obviously did no good.”
“Not a whit!” Alyssa said cheerfully, “Though I was very glad for the fire at the time.” Stephan made a little sound, cast his eyes skyward and murmured something Alyssa thought was, “Why me?” She chose to ignore it.
“You know, we really must find out when Drusilla’s ‘party’ is to be,” Alyssa said, changing the subject suddenly.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to say for the last ten minutes!” Stephan exclaimed.
“Well why didn’t you?” Alyssa asked innocently. He sighed, then walked over to the bookcase and pulled out a book. One of his books of prophecy. “Is it in there? Those things are so confusing! I really can never understand what they mean. But you do pretty well.”
“Thank you Alyssa,” Stephan said, looking through the book.
“Well it is your job after all,” Alyssa said. He gave her a look and she returned a defensive one. “I do well at my job too! You don’t compliment me on that though, you just go one about how I ought to practice more. But it’s dreadfully flat practicing the same thing over and over!”
“You do very well at your job Alyssa,” Stephan said wearily. She smiled triumphantly.
“Was that so hard?” she asked. “Really Stephan, you must learn to give compliments more easily. If you weren’t so perfectionistic about everything, you might—” Alyssa was interrupted by the entrance of one of the butlers. He bowed and held out a small silver tray to Stephan.
“This letter was just delivered by a footman sir,” he said. Stephan took the letter.
“Thank you Richard. You may go,” Stephan said. The butler bowed again and left the room. Stephan was looking at the letter very strangely.
“What is it?” Alyssa asked.
“It’s for you,” he said.
“Really?” She put her book on the table and was across the room in a flash. Alyssa loved mail. She took the letter and—grabbing a letter opener from his desk—slit it open at once. She reached inside a pulled out a card, and a small note. As she unfolded it something fell out. She bent and picked up the withered rose. A chill filled her even before she looked at the note, as she stood standing, looking at the dead rose.
“What is it?” Stephan asked.
“An invitation,” Alyssa said, looking at the gold-engraved card. An invitation . . . to Drusilla’s party. It didn’t have a date, but some strange numbers and nonsense words she was sure Stephan would be able to figure out. After all, they would not have sent it if they did not want her to come. Alyssa looked at the note.
Dearest Alyssa, it said. You must honor me with a waltz at our little party. Only one, I’m afraid—all Dru will relinquish. But perhaps we can dance after the ball is over as well. Watch your back until then, and your friend’s as well. You would not want to lose him as you lost your dear parents. I can still taste them in my mouth . . . but I digress. I await the ball with impatience, Yours, Angelus
“The note is from Angelus. And the rose, I think,” Alyssa said numbly, handing both to Stephan. He read the note and then crushed it in his hand. Looking over at her, he took her hands into his, trying to offer comfort.
“Alyssa, he is . . . a monster. He’s doing it to hurt you, to weaken you. To make it harder for you to kill him,” Stephan said softly. She was not looking at her Watcher though, when she replied.
“He’s only making it easier,” she said softly. And that was the end of it.
1998
“I had to!” Buffy whimpered, feeling herself shaken. And then she opened her
eyes and they weren’t there anymore. Instead there was a woman, a strange
woman she had never seen, shaking her.
“It was just a dream,” the woman said soothingly. “Just a dream.” Buffy curled tighter into herself, still shaking from the dream. But it wasn’t just a dream. It was real, all of it. She had done it all. Everything they accused her of. She had done it all. “It’s all right. It was just a bad dream. Your father’s on his way right now.” Buffy sat up at that, pushing the dream to the back of her mind. Her dreams came true . . . this one already had.
“My father? How did he know I’m here? And where am I anyway?” she asked, looking around.
“You’re at a shelter. Do you remember coming here?” the woman asked. Buffy shook her head, then frowned and nodded slightly. She remembered something . . . the last few days were a little hazy.
“You told us your first name and, since it’s a rather unique name, we were able to find out who you were rather quickly. Your mother had a missing persons alert out on you, since yesterday. We just called your father and he’s on his way. Your mother’s coming too, but since she’s in . . .” the woman frowned, trying to remember the town.
“Sunnydale,” Buffy supplied. The woman nodded.
“Yes, that’s it. Well, she’s coming to get you. Are you feeling better? You were screaming a minute ago and I couldn’t wake you up. Would you like some water?” Buffy nodded, still shaken.
“Thank you. Who are you?”
“My name’s Carol, I volunteer here. I must tell you, it’s nice to get someone who actually has a home for once. I need to ask you a few questions when you’re feeling better,” she said, going to a small sink on the other side of the room and bringing Buffy a paper cup with water in it. The slayer accepted the cup with a small smile and gulped down the contents.
“I’m all right now. As all right as I’m going to get anyway,” Buffy said, sitting the rest of the way up. She was still dressed she realized, and she hadn’t even been under the covers of the bed. Carol took her seat by the bed again.
“It’s about why you ran away. You see, I also am licensed by the state of California to deal with runaways, and if there was any abuse I ne—”
“No abuse,” Buffy said quickly, interrupting her. “I wasn’t abused at all. It wasn’t my mom. Well . . . a little. But not really.”
“Well what was it?” Carol asked gently. Buffy sighed and looked down at her hands. She turned the claddagh ring on her finger idly, wondering if he’d want her to take it off. Refusing to think of that.
“I was just expelled from school. Some of my friends were attacked in the school library and they thought I did it. I didn’t though, I had nothing to do with it, and my friends testified to that once they recovered. I’d already been expelled me though. My principal hates me, and I don’t know why. Lots of little things, I think. I beat up a star athlete that tried to assault me once, and he was sort of predisposed not to like me, because I was expelled from my last school. Here in L.A. That wasn’t my fault either. Maybe a little more my fault. I accidentally burned down the gym—but I’m not a pyromaniac or anything, it just happened. It’s a long story.
“Anyway, besides being expelled, my mom found out about me . . . dating an older man. Not that much older—it’s not like he’s two hundred and fifty or anything—but she got really mad. He and I had a date—a really important date. She told me that if I went I shouldn’t come back. But I went anyway. And then . . . well, I don’t really want to talk about it, but now the man I love—the older man I was dating—is in . . . Hell, for all I know. She told me not to come back, though I doubt she meant it, and I couldn’t stand facing all my friends, or thinking about him, so I left. I didn’t really think about it, I just sort of . . . went. I didn’t think about where, either. I guess I came to L.A. because it used to be home. But I didn’t want to see my dad or anything—not because he’s not great, I just didn’t want to see anyone. And then . . . I don’t really remember much, I was sort of in a daze, but I guess I ended up here,” Buffy finished. The woman didn’t look too skeptical, which Buffy took to be a good sign. It was hard sometimes, treading the line between truth and what people wanted to hear.
“What were you dreaming about?” Carol asked. Buffy blinked, suprised by the question and drew in a deep breath.
“Angel. That’s my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend, I guess.” It was the other woman’s turn to look startled, but she didn’t get a chance to tell Buffy why, because her father entered at that moment.
“Daddy!” Buffy cried, jumping off the bed.
“Oh god Buffy, do you know what you did to your mother and I? I nearly had a heart attack when I heard you were missing, not to mention . . . Oh thank god you’re safe!” he exclaimed, embracing her tightly. She buried her head on his shoulder, thankful for the shelter of his arms for that moment. Of course, she couldn’t just stand here forever. At some point she’d have to talk to him, and tell him . . . everything. And then her mother, and Giles and Willow and Xander and everyone . . . She’d have to tell them what she had done. What a horrible person she was.
“Don’t you ever do that again!” her father said, holding her away finally. “Do you hear me? Never! You caused us so much worry! We had no idea where you were or what had happened! We thought—” He stopped suddenly, looking over at Carol.
“I’ll let you two have a minute,” she said, walking towards the door.
“Thank you,” he said. She nodded and went out. Her father turned back to her.
“Your mother told me what you told her. Is it true Buffy?”
“Yes,” she said quietly, nodding slowly. She turned away and sat down on the bed again. There were other beds in the room, but they were all unoccupied. It was the middle of the day, though, she realized, noticing the clock. “It’s all true. Every word. That is, if you’re talking about the fact that I’m the vampire slayer. That is what you mean, right?”
“That and the fact you slept with a two hundred and forty year old vampire!” he exclaimed. Buffy winced.
“Daddy, I—” she began, but he interrupted her.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I know what happened. At least, what the man—the librarian—said happened. And how does he know all about it anyway?”
“He’s my Watcher,” Buffy explained. He stared at her blankly. “He was sent to teach me and watch over me. He figures out the when and where vampires are doing mischief and I go kill them.” Her father still looked dazed.
“Vampires. Of all things. So this is why you burned down the gym?” he asked. Buffy nodded, biting her lip.
“This is why everything. I’m sorry, but I can’t help it. Believe me, if I could I would! I—oh Daddy I-I sent him to Hell! After he turned back! He said he loved me and he didn’t remember anything, and I told him to close his eyes and he did and then I sent him to Hell! I stabbed him through the heart!” Buffy cried, breaking down.
“It’s all right,” he said softly, sitting on the bed beside her and rocking her in his arms.
“It’s not all right! How could I betray him like that?” Buffy sobbed.
“Shh. You saved the world—I think. You did the right thing. I know that. You did what was right. But if you stabbed him through the heart, why isn’t he dead? Why is he in Hell?” Hank asked.
“I stabbed him with a sword. Vampires have to be stabbed with a wooden stake to die,” Buffy said in a ‘could it be more obvious’ tone, sniffing and wiping at her eyes.
“Oh. Right. Sorry. I guess I’ll have to study up on my vampire lore. Come on, we’re going home. To my house, that is, and your mom will come find you there. She was worried out of her mind, you know,” he said, helping Buffy to her feet.
“I know. I mean, I guess I know. She did tell me not to come back though, so she can’t be mad,” Buffy said, sniffing and wiping at her nose.
“I don’t know about that, knowing your mother. But she’s certainly more happy to find you alive and safe than angry that you ran away,” Hank said, guiding her out of the room, into the hall. Carol was in the next room and saw them.
"Mr. Summers, before you leave you’ll have to sign some papers,” she said. “Could you come with me?”
“Of course,” he said, then turned to Buffy. “I’ll be right back.” Buffy nodded and watched him go into the next room. She leaned on the wall, trying to suppress more tears. What she had done . . .
Carol returned before her father did. Buffy looked up in suprise at the large, red-haired woman.
“I just wanted to make sure you’re all right,” she said. Buffy nodded quickly, then sighed and barely stopped herself from shaking her head.
“I’m not precisely all right, but I’m as good as I’m going to get for a while I think,” Buffy said, sniffing again.
“I wanted to tell you something as well. Last night we had a young man in here. He was found passed out in the street, but he had no injuries that anyone could see, so we didn’t take him to the hospital. He woke up once and gave him name, and then went to sleep. When we went in this morning he was gone, though he left some money on his bed. Of all things—we’re not a hotel! We were glad for it though, you know, because this is a strictly charity and grant-run foundation. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yes, the man said his name was Angel. I thought it was very strange at the time,” Carol said, musing. Buffy felt her heart clench. Angel . . .
“What did he look like?” she managed.
“Very handsome, with dark hair and dark eyes that looked very old somehow . . . not two hundred and fifty yet, but old. It may not be your man, and perhaps it would be better if it weren’t, but I thought you should know,” Carol said, her eyes intent on Buffy’s face.
“Thank you,” Buffy whispered. She didn’t have a chance to say anything else
because just then her father appeared and then she was being borne away,
back to life, though she might cling to the daze she was leaving.