Prologue to the Slayer's Tale
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Prologue to the Slayer’s Tale
By HW
Jac@blackplumes.freeserve.co.uk
Rating: PG (This part. Each part rated individually)
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I merely borrow
Summary: Buffy must achieve enlightenment before she can return home.
Prologue to the Slayer's Tale
“Dawn listen to me. Listen. I love you. I'll always love you. But this is the work I have to do. Tell Giles I... I figured it out. And I'm okay. 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.”
****
The Powers looked down at their warrior with a strange sense of unease. They heard her words, watched her selfless act and saw the pain of her loved ones as they gathered around her. This was not how it was meant to be.
“We cannot.”
“Yes we can.”
“We cannot interfere. She made her decision. They must carry on without her.”
“She was not supposed to die. It is not time.”
“It is a new time. She has made it so.”
“We can alter things. She can succeed. She is the strongest.”
“There are other warriors.”
“Her strength lies in her love. Her heart and soul. No other warrior has that.”
“It is too late.”
“Not if she agrees. If she asks for it, she can return.”
****
Buffy blinked herself awake and sat up quickly when she saw the nothingness surrounding her. She stood and turned around slowly, peering into the ether.
“Hello Buffy.”
“Mom?” Buffy started at her mother appeared before her. “Mom, is that really you?”
“It’s me Buffy. I was watching you. That was a very brave thing you did. I’m very proud of you.”
“Mom. I’m so scared,” Buffy murmured, sounding to her mother, like a small child, lost and lonely.
“I know sweetheart. But you don’t have to be scared here. I’m with you,” Joyce reassured her, reaching out to brush a strand of hair off her daughter’s face.
“Is this heaven?”
“No. Not quite. This is kind of the waiting area.”
“I’m dead.”
“I’m afraid so. But…”
“But what?”
Joyce sighed slightly. She knew what was best for her daughter. She knew Buffy deserved to return home and carry on with her life, but part of her, a very small part, was selfish. When she had first seen her daughter standing before her, she had wanted nothing more then to wrap her arms around her and never let go. It had been months since she had been able to talk to this beautiful, courageous girl, and part of her wanted Buffy to stay right there with her. But Joyce was never selfish in action.
“You can return. Go home. If that’s what you want.”
Buffy’s eyes widened. “I can? I can go back?”
Joyce nodded. “You’ll need to settle some things here first. Answer some questions…”
“And the red tape just keeps on comin’. It’s not even peaceful when you’re dead?”
Her mother shook her head. “You would not believe.”
Buffy sighed. “Ok. Sooner we get movin’, sooner I can get goin’ right?”
“Yeah, honey,” Joyce assured her as she took her daughter’s hand and led her away.
****
Buffy held tightly to her mother’s hand as she watched her own funeral service. Her heart ached when she saw the pain her loved ones were going through, but she knew she had to be strong. It wouldn’t be long. It would be over soon. She would be back with them and the healing would begin.
Over the past week she had had countless meetings with various bodies, who asked her questions about her life, as if they were testing her for something. She began each day extremely nervous and ended thoroughly irritated. Her mother was her support, her calming influence, and Buffy was grateful for the extra time they had together. They watched Buffy’s life through together; her triumphs and her tragedies, and Buffy found her wishing again, that things had been different in some ways.
The night of her funeral, the Slayer was called before the Powers. She entered the room determinedly, her mother close behind her. Her eyes widened as she recognised the people before her.
“Welcome Buffy.”
“Miss Calendar? Kendra?”
“We are the Powers. We have taken forms that you would recognise. We are not your friends.”
Buffy nodded. “I understand. I think. What do I have to do now? Can I go home yet?”
“Not yet child,” the Power that had taken Miss Calendar’s form spoke, “We have one more task.”
“You have been thinking this week, of what might have been,” ‘Kendra’ added. “Would you like to know?”
Buffy looked at them, confused. “What might have been? You can show me stuff like that?”
‘Miss Calendar’ nodded. “We shall show you. We shall give your friends what they ask for and you can answer your ‘What If?’”
“My friends? What do they have to do with this?”
“You’re friends also tend to dwell on what might have been. They believe they might have stopped your death if things were different,” ‘Kendra’ told her.
“Would they?” Buffy asked, curious.
“Perhaps. But that does not mean that things would be as expected. Nor would things ever be perfect.”
“We shall see,” ‘Miss Calendar’ continued. “You shall watch and then decide whether or not you shall return.”
“Do I get to see my friends?” Buffy asked excitedly.
“You shall see them and hear them as you have for the past week. They cannot see you. You will see their requests and the consequences. A variety of dimensions exist parallel to this one. Worlds in which you and those closest to you exist together, but in another form. You will see the dimensions where your friends’ requests are being lived.”
Buffy inhaled and exhaled slowly and purposefully. “Show me.”