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1860
The silence in the carriage was almost menacing. Alyssa knew. She’d heard
menacing silence before—or . . . not heard. Whatever. Anyway, whatever was
going on in the carriage was bordering quite closely with that. Which
wouldn’t be suprising if she had been sitting across from a vampire.
Unfortunately, she was currently engaged in working very hard not to meet
Stephan’s eyes. Almost as hard as he was working not to meet hers.
“You know, ignoring me won’t do any good,” Alyssa pointed out.
“I’m not ignoring you,” Stephan snapped. “I’m thinking, something you obviously need practice on.” Alyssa stiffened and glared at him eloquently. That was his first mean comment. He’d been silent, reproachful, and despairing by turns. That was the first time he’d been angry. It was almost worse than despairing, though she didn’t know why. Perhaps it was because Stephan was never truly angry (at least, not at her . . . extremely annoyed, but never angry) and if he acted so it was because he was even more worried than he could show.
“I think perfectly well. And I think you’re being horrid. How much damage can they do in one night? That’s all I want. One night. Then I’ll go back to being your obedient little Slayer and never have any fun but I want my night and I shall have it!” Alyssa cried.
“How much damage can they do? Have you any idea how many people all the vampires in London can kill? And you can be quite sure that there will be others visiting from out of town. You see, this is a ball. A real, quite important ball hosted by a quite important human, which means other humans will be attending. And will be slaughtered like helpless animals because you want ‘your night!’” Stephan cried scathingly. Alyssa flinched internally, but kept a strong demeanor, not budging an inch.
“I’ve made up my mind and I’m not changing it,” she said firmly. There was a flash of something across his face—pain, perhaps, or fear—and then it was gone, and there was only anger again.
“I only wonder what I did—what the people of this time did—to deserve a Slayer that doesn’t care,” he said coldly. Alyssa swallowed, chilled to the marrow by the ice in his voice. Did he really think that of her? That she didn’t care about anyone? But maybe it was true. Maybe she really didn’t. No, she told herself firmly. If I go they will be winning. I can’t let them win.
The rest of the trip passed in silence, only it was even heavier now, and quite definitely ominous. Alyssa felt like crying every time she glanced over at Stephan, but she bit her lip hard when she did and told herself that she must be strong, no matter what.
They were on their way to a picnic, outside of London. Lord Merist was giving it to celebrate his daughter’s engagement. Andrew had insisted that they be invited, and as Alyssa was about to come out it was all right with Cecilia. As her guardian, Stephan had to attend as well, though he had dreaded the thought of the carriage ride. It turned out to be just as awful as he had thought it would be.
It was a beautiful day, and Alyssa emerged from the carriage into bright sunlight once they reached their destination. There were quite a few people around, dressed up as if it was High Tea and not a picnic. But that was Society for you. Alyssa herself wore a stunning red dress in the very height of fashion . . . quite as nice as Cecilia’s, which made the debutante rather annoyed. It was her party, wasn’t it? And why was Andrew always looking at Alyssa like that?
“‘Lyssa! You’re here!” Emily exclaimed, spotting her and hurrying over. Alyssa turned, pushing away her depressing thoughts and smiled brightly.
“Emily! It’s good to see you! I’m so glad I could come!”
“So am I,” Emily said. “Glad you could come, that is. Cecilia’s . . . a . . . a dear really, but rather . . . rather . . . I really don’t know how to say it a polite way.”
“Don’t worry. I know what you mean. You needn’t say it. I had tea with her. When you weren’t there,” Alyssa said pointedly. Emily winced and grimaced, then quickly smoothed her expression as she caught her mother giving her a look.
“I’m sorry about that! I had an experiment I was working on, and those things are usually horribly boring . . . I didn’t think you would be there!” Emily exclaimed. Alyssa smiled reassuringly.
“It’s all right, really. Actually, it was rather fun. Cecilia gave me ‘the test’ and approved em for Society. I convinced her that Andrew was quite a catch,” Alyssa said, smiling mischievously.
“That was the day she said ‘yes!’” Emily exclaimed. “Oh Alyssa! That’s so wonderful! You convinced her! Andrew would have it that it was all his charm but I knew there must be something else at work. I’ve lived with him for seventeen years and he’s never seemed particularly charming to me.”
“Yes, well, everyone has they own opinions. Some people just have extremely odd ones,” Alyssa said, smiling tranquilly. Emily giggled, then changed the subject.
“How is your party going?” she asked in a concerned voice, her eyes showing that she was talking about much more than Alyssa’s coming out ball.
“Not extremely well, I’m afraid. I’m very excited, but Stephan is . . . not, particularly. In fact, he’s being rather . . . rather hateful about the whole thing,” Alyssa said carefully.
“I’m sorry, Alyssa. I’m sure he’ll come around. I think. It can’t be that bad, can it? Oh, did you hear? Lord Wellington is having a ball the same evening? What a slight! I do not understand. He sent out the invitations after you did and that is dreadfully rude, as you invited him. You did invite him, didn’t you?” Emily asked.
“I think so,” Alyssa said. “I’m not really sure. He’s having a party the same night, you said?”
“Yes. At least, Cecilia mentioned it, and she knows everything about what’s going on in London.”
“Do you know who’s going?” Alyssa asked carefully, trying not to betray anything in her expression or voice. Stephan had said that it was a real ball. And Lord Wellington had some kind of connection to vampires.
It doesn’t matter, she told herself. I’m not going anyway.
“I’m not sure,” Emily said, “It was only that Cecy mentioned it. Why?” Her eyes widened suddenly and she lowered her voice. “Could that be . . . the ball?” Alyssa nodded slowly.
“It could be,” she said, trying to smile in case anyone was watching them.
“Oh. Oh my. Then we mustn’t let anyone go. It would be simply too horrible if—” she stopped suddenly.
“If people died because I didn’t protect them,” Alyssa said flatly.
“That’s not what I was going to say!” Emily said quickly. Alyssa gave her a look. “All right, I was going to say it, but it doesn’t mean anything. Not really. You should do what you need to do. You deserve some happiness.”
“I’m the Slayer. Apparently I don’t deserve anything,” Alyssa whispered. Emily shook her head vehemently.
“That’s not true!” she exclaimed. She would have said more, but Andrew came up at that moment, his fiancée on his arm. Alyssa summoned a weak smile.
“Good afternoon. It’s a lovely day for a picnic, Cecilia. And congratulations both of you on your engagement. I am so happy for you both,” Alyssa said, trying very hard to sound sincere. Cecilia smiled brightly, not noticing that anything was wrong. Andrew gave Alyssa a worried look.
“Thank you so much! I’m so glad you could come Alyssa. And I’m very much looking forward to attending your coming out ball. Did you hear that Lord Wellington is having a ball the same night? It’s simply scandalous!” Cecilia exclaimed.
“I had heard, yes,” Alyssa said carefully.
“Well, I for one am going to attend your ball of course, and I shall endeavor to get everyone else to do so as well. If no one goes perhaps he will realize that losing one’s wife is no excuse for being rude. He’s so self-absorbed, I can’t stand it!”
“If you could do that I would be very gratefully,” Alyssa said, trying not to show just how grateful she would really be. Cecilia smiled brightly.
“I shall do my best. I love to be of service you know. Whatever I can do for my fellow man. Isn’t that right Andrew?”
“Of course my dearest,” Andrew said quickly. Cecilia smiled sweetly.
“Do excuse us, but we really must go greet Lord and Lady Radcliffe. I shall see you later, and thank you so much for attending. Good bye Emily,” Cecilia said, taking her leave and pulling Andrew along with her. He gave the two young women a rueful smile and a small wave before following her dutifully.
Alyssa and Emily exchanged glances and smiles.
“I told you, she’s rather . . . rather . . .” Emily said.
“I know,” Alyssa assured her. They both giggled, then first Alyssa and then Emily turned serious.
“You’re doing the right thing. You need your own life sometimes,” Emily said softly.
“I know, but what if it’s at the expense of others’ lives?” Alyssa asked softly. And that, after all, was the question.
1998
“Now, where were we?” Buffy asked, sliding onto the couch and tossing her
hair back over her shoulder. Angel put his arms around her and drew her
closer just as a knock sounded on the door. Buffy froze and made a face,
then kissed Angel quickly before she reluctantly pulled away.
“I better go get that,” she said. “Stay in here, okay, I’m not sure who it is and I don’t want any of my dad’s friends getting the wrong idea.” Angel nodded and Buffy tossed him a smile before going into the hall adjoining the door. She undid the locks quickly and opened the door. And froze.
“Go away,” she said quietly, menacingly.
“Not until you give me a chance,” Xander said.
“You had a chance. You messed up. Now please, leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you.” Buffy’s gaze moved to Willow and Cordelia behind him. Cordelia’s car was parked at the curb. “Willow, why did you let him come?”
“Buffy, I—”
“Never mind. It doesn’t matter. You can stay if you want, but I want Xander to go. Now. I have nothing to say to him and I don’t want to hear what he has to say. I’ve heard enough,” Buffy said, close to tears. How could he have done that to her? And how did he get the nerve to just show up like he hadn’t done anything? He hadn’t even told her himself. Willow had to do it.
“Buffy, please, I can explain—”
“No!” Buffy cried, looking at him again. He looked just the same as he always did . . . only tired and hurt. She missed him, she realized suddenly, then pushed the thought away quickly. He didn’t deserve missing. And what right did he have to look hurt? He was the one that had hurt Buffy . . . that had hurt Angel. It was his fault Angel had been sent to Hell! And now he just showed up, looking hurt and expected her to forgive him? “Xander, go away. How many times do I have to say it? I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you. Ever. From now on, we’re officially through. We’re not friends anymore. You can forget we ever were. You betrayed me Xander. You betrayed the man I loved. Go away.”
“I didn’t know—” he began, but she cut him off again.
“You should have. You should have thought. What did you think would happen? Could happen? If you had told me I could have saved him. I could have Angel now. Angel, not Angelus. And Angel? What do you think it’s like in Hell Xander? What do you think he’s gone through—going through? Willow tried to help me, but all you could do was destroy my life. So leave me alone. I don’t need you messing things up worse. I need people I can trust, not people I’ll never trust again.” There was a moment of silence, then a sound came from inside the house.
“What’s that?” Xander asked, looking up. Buffy quickly stepped forward and half-closed the door behind her, so if Angel came into the hallway they wouldn’t see. Because she had lied, and now they really couldn’t know. She did have Angel. But the rest was true. He had gone to Hell and she had to send him there. Because of Xander. Even though, a small part of her mind told her, it might not have made any difference. She squashed that part.
“Nothing,” Buffy said quickly. “Get off my property, Xander, and I don’t want to see you again.” He got this pained look in his eyes, and she wanted to go to him and say that she was sorry, but he was the one that had betrayed her and she couldn’t. Then he got anger in his eyes too and he inclined his head suddenly.
“Fine. If you want me to go, I’ll go. Come on,” he said to Cordelia and Willow. Cordelia cast Buffy a compassionate look and Xander a mad one, but went anyway. Willow hesitated.
“Willow,” Xander said in a hard voice. She looked from him to Buffy and back again, hesitating. “Come on Will, we have to find a place to stay. We can’t drive back tonight.”
“You can stay here Willow,” Buffy said. “You too Cordelia, if you want.”
“I better go,” Cordelia said. Buffy nodded, then looked at Willow. Xander was staring in shock at the girl he had known since childhood.
“Willow, you have to come with me! You can’t side with her!” Willow looked miserable.
“Look, why don’t you just go and come back to see me tomorrow,” Buffy said. Willow cast her a grateful look.
“Thank you. I will. Come back tomorrow.” Xander was still glaring. Willow walked towards the car, and Buffy bit her lips. Her friends were leaving her. Even if Willow would come back. She had rejected Xander, and her other friends went with him. What would they do when she was back? After what she had said to Xander he would probably never even be in the same room with her without glaring, even if it was his fault. Would Willow spend one night with Buffy and one with Willow? And what about the library? Shouldn’t it be Buffy’s, since her Watcher was the librarian? Of course, this was assuming she could get back into school.
“I’ll see you then,” Buffy said. Willow nodded and got into the back seat of Cordelia’s porsche. Xander slammed his door and Cordelia hissed at him. Buffy stood in the doorway, watching forlornly until they were gone. Angel came up behind her when they were gone.
“What happened?” he asked. Buffy turned to him, the tears finally escaping, and told him the whole story. He held her gently until she was done, murmuring comforting noises. What could he be thinking? What could be going through his mind with the possibility that he could have been spared Hell?
“I told him I didn’t ever want to see him again, or speak to him, or anything. He betrayed me and he made me hurt you. If not for him you might not have . . .” Buffy drew a shuddering breath and fought to control her tears. “I wouldn’t have had to send you . . . It was the hardest thing I ever did, and I can’t imagine what it was to you. I can’t forgive him for that. But I miss him, and the look in his eyes when I told him to get out . . . Oh Angel, how can I feel bad when he was the one that made you go through Hell?”
“You don’t have to answer for feelings,” Angel said. “You can’t help them. You just feel. There’s nothing you can do about that. But I think maybe this feeling is a good one.”
“What? But Angel if he had to—” Angel interrupted her, putting his hand to her mouth. She silenced and looked up at him, her eyes dry but still red.
“Come inside and we’ll talk,” he said. She nodded and followed him into her father’s house, closing and locking the door behind them. She went and sat next to him on the couch.
“Well? We’re talking,” Buffy said.
“Maybe it wasn’t Xander’s fault,” Angel said.
“What do you mean? If he told me—”
“It might have changed something. But it might not. I wasn’t really watching you at the time, but I’m sure you were doing your best to stop me, even though you didn’t know how much was at stake. If you had known Willow was trying the spell and still hadn’t been able to stop me . . . you would have felt worse. You would have blamed yourself. This way—”
“This way I blame Xander instead,” Buffy said bitterly.
“Don’t say that. But it probably wouldn’t have made a difference, except to make you feel guiltier after you had to . . .”
“It could have made a difference though. Xander didn’t know that it wouldn’t. And he lied to me. There was a chance things could have turned out different, and he all but sent you to Hell because of some stupid jealousy from a relationship we never had!” Buffy cried. Angel shook his head again.
“It wasn’t only jealously. Try and put yourself in his shoes,” Angel urged.
“His shoes don’t fit,” Buffy said firmly. Angel’s mouth twitched upward slightly, then controlled itself.
“From Xander’s perspective, I certainly didn’t deserve a chance. I deserved to be in Hell, or at least dead. I was semi-responsible for giving him a broken arm, and putting Willow—whom he cares for greatly—into a coma. I . . . I tortured Giles, and I killed Ms. Calendar. Not to mention tormenting you for months. Anyone would do the same thing he did. Maybe he was right to do it.”
“Don’t say that!” Buffy cried. “You don’t deserve to go to Hell or die or anything! It wasn’t you, not any of it! Why can’t anyone else see that? Why can’t you? And not anyone would have done it. Willow wouldn’t have. Oz wouldn’t have. Even Cordelia wouldn’t have. Only Xander.”
“Anyone would be justified in doing it then. He was trying to protect you,” Angel said.
“He hurt me more than anything ever has!” Buffy cried, beginning to cry again. “When I saw you . . . really you for the first time in so long . . . I had never been so happy, except maybe that night, which is what ruined everything in the first place. And then Acathla’s mouth just kept opening, like it would swallow both of us and the whole world. And it would have. I knew it would have. But you didn’t. You didn’t know. You trusted me. You loved me. And I betrayed you. It hurt so much to see your face when you knew what I had done but didn’t know why. To hear you whisper my name, to see you reaching out and be unable to take your hand. It hurt so much, Angel, and if there was any chance, any chance that it could have been prevented then I can’t forgive Xander.”
“But I can, and I went to Hell,” Angel said simply, and that was all there was to it. Buffy stopped and looked at him, searching his face for some clue, any clue to how he could forgive someone who sent him to Hell. For how he could forgive Xander. For how he could forgive her.
“How?” she cried.
“Because I love you and that’s all that matters,” Angel said. He leaned forward and kissed her tears away and then kissed her, deeply, as if only the feel of her mouth would keep him alive and sane. Maybe it would. When the kiss was over Buffy leaned her head against his chest, closing her eyes for a second, as if it would make everything go away to just be held by Angel again.
After a long moment she stirred and pulled away just enough to look at him. “Angel you said that Hell was . . . was being without me. Was that all? Did they hurt you?” she asked. It was almost impossible to look into his eyes and see the pain there—the pain she was responsible for—but she steeled herself and kept looking.
“No that was not all that happened. And yes. They hurt me,” he said softly.
“There aren’t any scars,” she whispered, tracing his jawline softly.
“Not physical ones. I was very weak for a long time though . . . that’s why I couldn’t come to you at first. I’d hope my note would give you some hope at least.”
“So you did give Whistler that note. It did give me hope. Without it I wouldn’t have put that personals ad in and you might not have found me, or I might not have found you. But Angel, how can you forgive so easily the horrible things that were done to you?”
“I can’t,” he said. Buffy felt a chill go through her until he spoke again. “I will never forgive the demons that tortured me, that showed me Hell. They shouldn’t be forgiven. They are pure evil and they always will be. But you had nothing to do with that. There is nothing to forgive. And neither did Xander. Neither of you hurt me, not really. That’s why I can forgive you,” Angel told her softly, holding her eyes with his own dark ones.
“I have to go back soon you know,” she said. “There are vampires again in Sunnydale. My father’s coming back tomorrow and I’ll go back next week at the latest.” Angel stilled suddenly, watching her intently. She took a deep breath. “Will you come with me?”
“Will you tell everyone about me?” he asked. She drew in another breath—a sharp gasp this time.
“Angel . . . I want to. I told Willow. She’s happy. I could even tell Willow and Oz and trust them to be happy. I don’t care bout what Xander thinks, and I might be able to bring my mother around but . . .”
“Giles,” Angel said. Tears sprang to Buffy’s eyes.
“He was so hurt when Ms. Calendar died. He really loved her. And I haven’t talked to him since you . . . since he . . . but—”
“But I tortured him,” Angel said. Buffy nodded quietly.
“Please come, Angel. I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” Buffy pleaded.
“I don’t know. I . . . I want to come with you but I don’t know if I can.
I’m still weak and it might be . . . too much. I will try, Buffy,” he
promised. “I will try.” And Buffy kissed him because she knew that was the
best she would get.