|
|
Disclaimer: Jessica is mine. The rest belong to Joss.
Author's Notes: Okay, so this starts out kinda depressing for a Christmas fic, but I promise it will get better. I don’t know what’s up with me and the end of the world these days. Merry Christmas, Happy Winter Solstice and Happy Hannukah!
Part 1
The city was black. Perpetual smoke seeped between abandoned buildings, clung to the dim glow of streetlights, last remnants of a fight against the dark. Not even that, no one had bothere dto turn them off and so they kept burning, beacons in the darkness until one by one they began to flicker and finally died out. Something moved out of a fallen building, another shadow in a world of shadows. A cat, missing an ear, it’s fur tattered and scorsh off, dreaming of better days, of warmth, of sunlit naps. It slunk into darkness and the black city paused for a moment, quiet, listening for the sounds that left it years ago.
Another shadow stirred, slipped in and out of smoky darkness, moved like night into one of the old skyscrapers. One corner of it fell, burnt, but the shadow didn’t care. It moved silently, through old offices, tumbled-in doorways, climbing up and up and stopped, finally, outside the one door still standing.
"It’s me," a muddle voice said from the shadow. The door swung open and the shadow stepped inside, taking on a human form in the fim light of portable lamps, set around the room.
"Find anything?" the young woman asked, brushing back a fall of brown hair. The shadow pulled off its mask, gaining features and a coiled blond braid pinned severely to its head.
"Nothing. Can you still feel him?" The first girl nodded, looking so like her older brother that the second felt an odd ache where she’d thought she couldn’t anymore.
"I’ll go out tomorrow," she said softly, closing the door and throwing her mask and gloves onto a small rickety table nearby. She walked in past the other young woman and then stopped suddenly. "Jess? I’m sorry. I know you wanted to find him."
Jessica Harris shook her head and walked over to their tny space heater, turning it up. "It’s all right. I just-he’s so scared and it’s almost-" she broke off, then smiled suddenly and bent down to pick something up, holding it behind her back as she turned back to her friend. "Merry Christmas Buffy," she sad warmly.
Buffy Summers stared, her tired mind not registering for a moment, and then she let out a deep breath. "Is it Christmas?" she askedvaguely. "I’d forgotten."
"Christmas Eve," Jessica said, holding out a small package. "I got you a present." Buffy took the present with an odd look on her face. She unwrapped the newspaper scraps slowly. "Sorry I didn’t have wrapping paper," Jessica apologized, her smile broadening as she watch Buffy hold up the shirt. It was cute, something she would have worn once.
For a moment, Buffy wanted to put it on, just to be young again, for a moment, to feel pretty.
And then she shook her head. "I don’t need clothes. And it’s too bright anyway, I couldn’t wear it out. Someone else could use it more. Or they could use the fabric for a blanket," she said, putting it down on the table. She glanced up and winced inwardly at Jessica’s hurt look.
Was she really only two years younger? Buffy felt a thousand years old compared to her-compared to anyone.
"Thank you," she said awkwardly. "It was nice of you to think of me."
"O-of course," Jessica replied. "You’re right, I should have thought but-They’re having a Christmas dinner tomorrow. They want us to come. Wil-"
"I have work to do," Buffy said quickly, cutting her off before she could say the name, before she could make Buffy feel things she didn’t have time for. "You can go."
"No, I-I have things to do too," Jessica said quickly, sounding a little forlorn.
Buffy wanted to comfort her, she really did. But she had no comfort to give. As much as part of her wanted to go see those people, talk to them and laugh with them and open presents. She knew it wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be what she wanted Christmas to be. And what was the point anyway? It would only hurt more to walk away and know that she could never be part of that life, that she didn’t even want to. That there was nowhere on Earth that could possibly have a Merry Christmas.
And why should she care? It was just some stupid holiday from a religion that had been hit as hard as all the others. Had Jesus helped them when the darkness came? Had God brought the sun back?
"Listen, Jess," Buffy said, desparate to get that hurt out of the voice of the only friend she had left. "There’s really no reason to celebrate you know. I mean, Christmas is the birth of a savior. And there’s no savior. It’s not real. It doesn’t mean anything."
"Christmas is about being together," Jessica whispered, holding her hands over the heater to try and stay warm. "It’s about loving people, and giving."
Buffy was silent. There was nothing to say.
"We have a lot to do tomorrow," she said quietly. "I’m going to bed."
The Slayer lay down in darkness and struggled to find oblivion. Across that dark, dark city in a few small buildings fires burned. Children snuggled in their mothers arms and asked when Santa Claus was coming. Lovers curled together, keeping each other warm through the cold nights. Friends and mothers and brothers wrapped the meager presents they could find, and laughed, and gossiped, and forgot the eternal night pressing down on them.
As the last child drifted off to sleep, the last couple found peace in each others arms and the Slayer finally found the darkness she’d been searching for, an unbroken clocked chimed somewhere and it was Christmas.
Buffy was warm. She remembered that, because she hadn’t felt that way in quite a while. But when she woke up, slowly, drowsily, knowing she had nothing else to do in the world, she was warm.
It was Christmas.
She smiled before she even opened her eyes, threw off her covers and bolted down the hall to her mother’s room. "Mom!" she called happily.
"You can’t even let me sleep in one year?" Joyce asked grumpily, but appeared in the door a moment later and kissed Buffy’s forehead. "Merry Christmas sweetie."
"Merry Christmas!" Buffy exclaimed. "Stockings?" Joyce laughed and shooed her down the stairs. Buffy ran down at a breakneck speed and into the living room where full stockings hung on the mantelpiece. There were seven, with names on each. Buffy went for hers and grabbed a blanket, settling in on the floor.
"Hey Buff," Xander greeted her, kissing her cheek and grabbing his stocking.
"Merry Christmas," Giles said softly, sitting on the couch above her.
"Aren’t you going to open your stocking?" Buffy asked, including Cordelia, Anya and Oz in the question as well.
"In a moment," her Watcher replied. She smiled and opened the first present, ripping the paper with abandonment. Xander did the same, smiling with all the glee of a young child.
Joyce brought in a tray of hot chocolate with marshmallows in the shape of Christmas trees just like they had every year since Buffy was three.
She looked around at all of them. Anya had settled in Xander’s lap, Cordelia on the couch with her feet curled under her, Oz in a chair by the fireplace. Joyce brought in gingerbread cookies and added to the warm glow inside Buffy. Everything was perfect. She was surrounded by the people she loved the most, and it was Christmas. She felt like Jimmy Stewart in "It’s a Wonderful Life" when all the people came in and gave him money. Like the whole world loved her.
There was just one thing missing. Well, two. Two people.
"Where are Angel and Willow?" she asked Giles curiously, sipping her hot chocolate.
"They’re not here yet," Giles said gently. Buffy frowned.
"Then why am I here?" she asked, thinking for the first time that perhaps this wasn’t real. Perhaps it wasn’t really Christmas.
"Because you’ve closed your heart off. And that’s no way to celebrate Christmas," Xander chided gently.
And she remembered. She remembered all of it. The darkneing of the sky, the fights, the destruction. She remember Willow getting.. and Angel leaving to try and find a solution, to try and help others. She remembered Xander dying because she wasn’t fast enough, leaving his kid sister to help her.
She remembered the tears she had shed, and all the ones she never had.
"What’s to celebrate?" Buffy asked softly.
"The fact that you’re alive," Anya suggested.
"The fact that others are too," Cordelia added.
"Jessica and Willow," Xander said.
"Hope," Oz added quietly.
"All of us," Giles said, a Buffy glanced up at him, her heart numb.
"But you’re gone. All of you. All of this..It’s all gone," she whispered, looking around her at the cosy living room, the stockings and presents, the hot chocolate and cookies, and all of them.
"It’s in your heart," Xander told her. "And besides, knowing what it’s like for you, what do you think it’s like for Will?"
She tried not to think of that. She really, really tried. Unfortunately, it didn’t work.
"We’re always with you Buffy," Giles said, stroking her hair softly. "Merry Christmas."
And she woke up in the cold, dark room, the warmth
inside her slowly fading to the ice it had been for a
long, long time.