Ten People (And One Robot) You Meet on Your Way to Heaven (1/3)
Title: Ten People (And One Robot) You Meet on Your Way to Heaven (1/3)
Fandom: Buffy/Angelverse
Spoilers: BtVS Season 5 (w/ 6 & 7 spoilers); Angel Season 1
Rating: PG-13 for minor language and implied violence
Summary: Sometimes Heaven’s not a straight trip
Notes: This is the first in what I’m hoping will be a series of stories dealing with this universe. But, in my wacky writing style, this chapter takes place at the end.
I don’t own these characters. They belong to Joss Whedon, Fox, Warner Brothers, etc etc etc.
My Fanfiction Page / Ten People (2/3)
May 23, 2001
As the rising sun peeked over the horizon, and chaos tore through Sunnydale, Buffy Summers finally knew what she had to do.
She turned back, and saw the look of fear in her sister’s eyes. Fear and realization.
“Buffy,” Dawn said quietly, shaking her head, “No…”
“Dawnie,” Buffy said calmly, “I have to.”
“No!”
“Listen to me,” Buffy continued, taking Dawn’s arms, “Please, there’s not a lot of time, listen…”
Dawn, thankfully, listened.
“Dawn, dawn listen to me,” Buffy repeated. “Listen. I love you. I will always love you. But this is the work that I have to do.”
Dawn shuddered as a sob escaped her lips.
“Tell Giles...” Buffy said, trying to find the words. “Tell Giles I figured it out, and I'm okay. And give my love to my friends. You have to take care of them now. You have to take care of each other. You have to be strong. Dawn, the hardest thing in this world... is to live in it. Be brave. Live.
“For me…”
Buffy raised her hands and lovingly cupped Dawn’s tear-stained face. Closed her eyes. Leaned in, and kissed her on the cheek. Kissed her goodbye.
And when she stepped away, she knew what she was doing was right. Her face shone calm acceptance.
She turned, knowing that time was short. As her blond hair whipped in her face, she could almost feel the eyes of her friends staring up at her. Willow. Xander. Giles. Anya. Tara. Even Spike, old William the Bloody, who had been nothing but endless frustration since he arrived in Sunnydale.
She bade them all goodbye as she reached the end of the steel grate platform. Took one step over the hole that had been cut for Dawn’s blood.
And jumped.
Jumped towards the portal, glowing blue and purple over the darkness below.
Jumped towards the rising sun.
And Buffy Summers felt her soul tear from her body. Felt it float away from her world, from her reality.
And was at peace.
Am I dead? I’m dead, aren’t I?
I didn’t expect Heaven to be so… dark. Maybe I’m not in Heaven. Maybe this is some sort of… Purgatory? Is that the word?
And why does my back hurt?
“Buffy?”
Are backs supposed to hurt in Heaven?
Or maybe everyone’s been wrong. Maybe all of that religion stuff was a bunch of hooey. No Heaven. No Hell. No… Just black.
This sucks. Just me, my brain, and my back for all eternity.
“Buffy, can you hear me?”
Okay, amendment: me, my brain, my back, and God for all eternity.
“I can hear you, God,” Buffy rasped, finding herself short of breath.
Of course you’re short of breath. You’re dead.
“Buffy, thank goodness you’re alive!”
And God’s feeling very contradictory. Not helping.
Buffy forced herself to open her eyes. Immediately she closed them again as the invading morning light brought stabs of pain through her pupils.
“Ow…” she groaned, lifting her very-much-in-hurt arm, dropping her very-much-in-hurt hand over her very-much-in-hurt eyes.
“Take it slow,” said the voice of God, who seemed to have a British accent. “I thought we lost you for a moment. You took quite a fall, I couldn’t feel a pulse.”
Fall.
Fall?
“Dawn!” Buffy cried out, forcing herself to open her eyes again. Giles’s concerned face hung above her, and she could see herself reflected in his glasses.
“Buffy,” he said, resting his hand on her shoulder, “Relax. Calm yourself.”
“No,” Buffy groaned, suddenly finding her strength again as she planted her hands on the ground beside her, shoving away various pieces of rubble as she pushed herself to a sitting position. “Dawn. Is she alright?”
“Buffy!”
It was the voice she needed to hear. Buffy felt her heart melt as her little sister, the one created by the monks not even a year ago, ran to her, skirting around the fallen minions of the goddess Glory before wrapping her arms around her in a great hug.
“Dawn, you’re alive,” Buffy whispered into Dawn’s ear, tears rolling down her cheeks as she ran her hand across Dawn’s hair. “Thank God you’re alive.”
“Of course I’m alive, silly!” said Dawn, pulling herself back and looking Buffy in the eyes, a joyful grin on her face.
Her smooth, unbleeding face.
How long was I out? Buffy thought as she studied her sister’s untouched forehead. Apparently long enough for Dawn to heal. And change into a pair of jeans and a sweater.
And get a haircut.
“Okay, my fanny’s going to be feeling that fight for a while.”
Buffy pulled her hand away from Dawn’s chin-length hair and turned towards the sound of Anya’s voice. Anya approached the trio, rubbing her back with one hand while supporting a limping Tara Maclay.
“Tara,” said Buffy, sighing in relief. “The spell… it worked?”
“Oh, yes,” said Tara, who also looked like she had had time to change out of her pajamas. “Well, it did enough, I think. Enough for you to finish the job.”
“And good job with the finishing, too,” said Anya. “I don’t think Doc even knew what hit him.”
“Doc?” asked Buffy. “What… what Doc?”
“Well, more than one ‘Doc,’ I guess,” said Tara, turning to her left. Buffy’s eyes followed hers, where she saw an old man, sliced in half at the waist. A sword lay at his side, blue blood pooled around all three items.
“Him…” Buffy said quietly, looking back up to the top of the tower. “I pushed him off…”
“With gusto, I see,” said Anya, now returned to her usually perky attitude. “But I meant the other Doc. The boy who turned into Glory? Nice job.”
“Buffy, you didn’t have to kill… You could have let Ben go,” said Tara. “I don’t think Glory would have come back, and we probably could have attempted some containment spells…”
“What?” Buffy said, giving Giles a confused look. “But… but I didn’t… Ben’s dead?”
“Are you okay?” asked Anya, stepping towards Buffy with Tara still slung over her shoulder. “Long fall?”
“A… a little bit, yeah,” said Buffy, shaking her head. “Where’s Will and Xan?”
“Alright, I think I got the last of ‘em,” came a voice from behind Buffy.
“Good job, boys,” said Giles.
“Where are they?” Buffy repeated to Giles and Dawn.
“Where are who?” asked Giles.
“Willow and Xander!”
“Who are they?” asked the voice from behind her, as two young man joined the two girls, an axe slung over one’s shoulder, a baseball bat over the other. “A couple of Glory’s minions? I din’ even know they had names.”
“I didn’t know that, either,” said Tara.
“What… What are you talking about?” Buffy cried, forcing herself to her feet. “Willow. Xander. Your girlfriend. Your boyfriend. Where are they?”
“Willow…” Giles mumbled. “Why does that…?”
“Girlfriend?” Anya said to the axe-wielding man. “Doyle, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend!”
“Doyle, congratulations!” Dawn squealed, clapping her hands. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I… I don’t…” the man, Doyle, replied. “Buffy, how’s your head?”
“My head’s fine!” Buffy yelled, although she felt a stab of pain through her brain at the sound of her voice. “Where’s Willow? Where’s Xander? Who the hell are you? Where’s Spike?”
“Okay, Buff, maybe you should lie back down,” soothed the batted man. “You’re… Giles, what the hell’s going on?”
“She might have a concussion,” Giles said. “When someone falls from that height it would usually kill them.”
“Yeah, no kidding!” said the man. “I mean, she’s talking about… and what the hell is Spike?”
“Wait a minute…” Tara breathed, her eyes studying Buffy’s face.
“Wait…” Buffy said, grabbing the batted man’s shirt. “Wait, I know you…”
“Of course you know me,” he said with a nervous smile.
“Larry?”
“Right,” said the axed man. “See? She’s gonna be just fine.”
“Doyle…” Buffy whispered, looking at the other man. “You’re…” she closed her eyes in concentration.
“I’m Doyle,” he replied with an Irish brogue. “Okay, luv, we need to get you home. Or pissed. One of those two. Or both. I’m not picky.”
“You’re… You used to be Angel’s partner,” Buffy said. “With Cordelia…”
Doyle blinked.
“And you’re dead.”
“Everybody stop talking,” Tara said quietly, removing herself from Anya’s grip.
“Both of you are!” she said, turning to Larry.
“I think we’re done here,” said Doyle quickly. “Buffy’s obviously…”
“You died at graduation!”
“And now she’s talking about Cordelia!” Larry whispered to Giles. “Cordelia Chase!”
Doyle raised his hand. “All in favor of saying I’m not dead…”
“Seconded,” said Larry quickly.
“Everyone please be quiet,” Tara said. “I’m trying to concentrate…”
“Buffy!”
More voices. Buffy turned to the rickety staircase. There, at the base, stood…
Oh, God, Buffy thought helplessly as Dawn sprinted towards her, Glory’s sacrificial dress flowing around her legs, her bare feet. What the hell’s going on?
“She’s fine,” said Oz, leaning against a nearby post. “A little bruised, a little bloodied. Comes with the territory.”
“You don’t look too hot yourself,” said Larry.
“I’m okay,” said Oz, holding his arm, his flannel sleeve sticky with blood. “Just a little cut. Good job, Buff.”
“Buffy, you’re alive,” Dawn sobbed, hugging Buffy tight. Buffy could feel the wetness of her tears on her cheek. Feel the remnants of the blood on her side from where Doc had cut her…
“She’s fine,” said Dawn. The other Dawn. The one not hugging Buffy. “I’m very happy that we’re both fine.”
Buffy pulled herself away. Looked at one Dawn. And the other.
She was surprised her knees hadn’t given away sooner.
“What’s going on?” Buffy breathed, her eyes wide with shock, her breath shortening, almost hyperventilating.
Tara kneeled down in front of her, her brow furrowed in concentration. She raised her hand and put it gently on Buffy’s forehead.
“This isn’t right,” she said.
“No, it’s not right!” Buffy cried, grabbing Tara’s wrist. “Tara, what the hell’s going on? Where’s Willow?”
“Giles, you have a problem…”
Oh, God, not more, Buffy’s mind moaned in agony as Wesley Wyndam-Pryce came from behind a pile of boxes. Please, no more…
“What is it?” Giles asked.
“You should see to your charge,” said Wesley.
“Is she hurt?” asked Larry.
“No, she’s not,” said Wesley. “She’s… Good Lord. Miss Summers… you’re alive?”
“Everyone seems so surprised,” said Anya. “How many times has she escaped death before?”
“I’m…” Wesley muttered, adjusting his jacket. “I’m just… surprised?”
“Thank you for stealing my word,” said Anya as Giles and Larry ran back to the pile of boxes. “I found it very appropriate.”
“No, I mean…” Wesley stammered, kneeling down beside Tara. “Is she alright?”
“I don’t know…”
“She’s alive, yes?”
“I… I think so…”
“What do you mean, you think so?” asked Dawn. The one in the dress.
“Her energy,” Tara said quietly, focusing on Buffy’s eyes. “It’s… off…”
“You mean like a switch?” asked the other Dawn. “Her battery is low?”
“Someone switch her off, would you?” said Doyle, rolling her eyes.
“I would,” said Anya, “but that would involve taking her clothing off.”
“Of course it’s off,” said Wesley. “She died.”
“And you just know that would be the time that the authorities arrived, and we’d have a naked fourteen year old girl running around and, as much as that sounds like the premise of a bad British farce, I really don’t want to have to explain that to the nice policeman.”
“She died?” said the Dawn in the dress, bending down beside the two.
“She did…”
“How do you know?”
Wesley looked helplessly back at the boxes, behind which Giles and Larry had already disappeared.
Dawn’s jaw dropped. “You mean she…?”
“I mean she’s a Slayer,” Wesley said with a nod, and Dawn covered her mouth with her hands in surprise.
“Resuscitation might screw up her energy,” Tara agreed. “But not like this.”
“Stop being so vague, Maclay,” said Doyle. “What the bloody hell’s…?”
“This isn’t Buffy…” said Tara. “Beyond that, I can only be vague.”
“Not Buffy?” said Doyle. “Like… like possessed?”
Buffy was too in shock to register the significance of Doyle readjusting his grip on his axe.
“No,” said Tara. “I mean… I mean it is Buffy. But it’s not. She’s… She’s a Buffy. Just not… our Buffy.”
“Tara…” Buffy said, forcing herself back. “Tara, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think it was the portal?” asked Oz, looking up at the tower. “It did something to her?”
“I don’t know,” Tara repeated.
“Something happened,” said Buffy. “I… this isn’t right. None of this… Doyle’s supposed to be dead, and I’m supposed to be dead, and where are Xander and Willow?”
“Wait, hang on,” said Anya, putting her hand on Tara’s shoulder. “Tara, could you toss me a little bit of that essence?”
“Of course,” said Tara, closing her eyes. Anya closed hers as well, and Buffy saw a slight glow pass through the both of them before Anya stood up again.
“Yep,” said she with a nod. “That’s what I thought.”
“They’re dead?”
“Yes, they are,” said Anya, bouncing on the bench across from Buffy as Oz drove his van through the Sunnydale streets, which had miraculously returned to normal after the portal closed. Tara sat next to Anya, while Dawn sat beside Buffy. Up front, Wesley sat in the shotgun position beside Oz, while the others followed in Giles’s own van.
“All of them?” Buffy whispered. “Willow, Xander, Spike, Cordelia…
“Angel?”
Anya nodded.
“And Mom?” Buffy pleaded, turning to Dawn. “She’s still…?”
Dawn nodded. “Complications with surgery,” she said quietly.
Buffy felt her mind crash. Her body felt numb.
This isn’t real, her brain screamed in protest. This isn’t real, they’re not dead, this isn’t your world!
But that didn’t stop the tears from coming. Hard.
“Where am I?” Buffy sobbed as Dawn put a comforting hand on her leg. “Tara, what’s going on?”
“I… I can’t say,” said Tara, turning to Anya for assistance.
“This world,” Anya said with a deep sigh, “this world used to be yours. It’s… Well, there are many different realities. There could be a reality where it’s always Wednesday, or crazy melty land. Or a world without shrimp, or a world with nothing but shrimp…”
“I’ve heard this before,” Buffy snapped. “Multiple realities, world without shrimp. I get it, keep talking.”
“This world is an offshoot of yours,” Anya explained. “About… oh… When did she show up, Oz, two years ago?”
“About that,” said Oz from the driver’s seat. “She showed up the day we defeated the Master. The day she defeated the Master.”
“About two years ago,” Anya continued, “Cordelia Chase made a wish in your reality. She wished that Buffy Summers had never come to Sunnydale.”
“She… She did?” Buffy said, her eyes wide. “I didn’t… Why would she do that?”
“Oh, she had just had a breakup, and blamed you for it,” Anya said with a shrug.
“When Xander…?”
“Yeah, something about her boyfriend kissing another girl. Nothing that important. It was the wish that counted. Because it made this world, and ended me.”
“This world,” Buffy said quietly. “This is… But I am here. I am in Sunnydale.”
“Well, you got here eventually,” said Wesley. “But that was after Mr. Giles contacted your old Watcher in Cleveland.”
“Like I said,” Anya interrupted. “Big wish. Screwed up a lot of prophecy, a lot of fates. Cordelia’s old boyfriend was a vampire, and so was the girl who he cheated with. It was really fun.”
“Not sounding fun so far,” Buffy said flatly, thinking back to that Willow Doppelganger from… Was she from this world?
“But here’s the thing,” Anya continued. “You were never supposed to be here. Cordelia screwed it up, told Giles about you. He brought you here. But even then you weren’t supposed to survive. The Master was supposed to kill you to keep the prophecy going…”
“But he didn’t,” Buffy said, looking at her sister.
“Obviously not,” said Anya. “Because Giles got smart. Summoned me. Destroyed my power center. All of my wishes went null and void, I became a regular human, and you defeated the Master. And this reality kept going.”
“I… I don’t know what to say,” said Buffy, staring at her hands. “This is just too much. I can’t…”
“I think you should slow down a bit, honey,” said Tara, taking Anya’s hand. “She’s having a rough time with this, and if we want to help her out, help her back to her world, she doesn’t need to know everything.”
Buffy’s eyes shot up at Tara’s words. “Honey?”
Tara looked back at Buffy in confusion. “Yeah?”
“You two are together?”
“Yes, we are,” said Anya.
“Could you… could you two not be holding hands?” Buffy said, pointing. “That’s… that’s just making me uncomfortable.”
“Oh,” said Tara, letting go of Anya’s hand. “I’m sorry. I… I didn’t know… if we make you…”
“Huh,” said Anya. “Didn’t know that reality’s Buffy was such a homophobe.”
“No!” Buffy stammered. “It’s… You’re not together in the real world.”
“This is the real world,” said Anya. “Every world is just as real as the others.”
“Well, you’re not together in my world!” Buffy cried. “Tara loves Willow and Anya loves Xander and God I need to get back to them...”
“Okay, we’re sorry,” said Tara, stepping across to sit next to Buffy on her other side. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know…”
“Wait,” said Anya, lifting a finger. “You mean I’m straight in your world?”
“Yeah,” Buffy shrugged. “You and Xander…”
“Xander’s the guy that Chase broke up with, right?”
Buffy nodded.
“Jesus Christ,” Anya groaned, her head resting against the wall of the van. “Thank God I’m stuck in this reality.”
“I don’t understand,” said Buffy. “You’re…?”
“She’s a vengeance demon,” Dawn explained. “Well, former vengeance demon.”
“I hate men!” Anya exclaimed.
Wesley and Oz both coughed uncomfortably.
“Present company excluded, of course.”
“Of course,” they both replied in unison.
“I’ve been torturing them for centuries and had a blast doing it!” Anya continued. “You’re telling me I actually fell for one?”
“That’s the long and short of it,” said Buffy.
“Good Lord,” Anya groaned. “Okay, everyone swear to me that that never leaves the van.”
“Sworn,” said Tara, reaching across and squeezing Anya’s hand before pulling away, seeing Buffy’s tense reaction.
“God, if Halfrek hears about this,” Anya mumbled. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”
My Fanfiction Page / Ten People (2/3)