TITLE: Is The End
AUTHOR: Ragna (writinggoddess@aol.com)
RATING: FRT
SPOILERS: None
DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just tell me!
DISCLAIMER: Everything except what comes out of my pretty little head belongs to Joss and Mutant Enemy. The title comes from part of a Smashing Pumpkins song, featured on the Batman and Robin soundtrack.
FEEDBACK: Wanted. Needed. SEND IT!
DEDICATIONS: Dedicated to Julee (get better soon), Tiki (thanks once more for the awards), Nicole (I really did love my V-Day fic!!!), Ashley (poor girl...hope you have a beeter V-Day next year, but until then...) and Gillian (who jumpstarted my brain...I'll use the ideas soon!) Also to Erica and Cathryn, and Mandy.
***
January 23, 2223
Thank you.
That's the simplest thing I can say right now, knowing the anger we'd had for each other for so long. I finally understand you two now, the way you loved each other. And I'm glad you have each other now.
I sit by the graves at night, most nights. Knowing her ashes were sprinkled there...I feel close to her again, but I miss her so much. She was the one bright spot in my entire miserable existence, even more than Dru.
I have respect for the dead, not stepping on the graves. In a way, I'm glad she had a bench set near the plots. That way, I can sit, and not disturb the dead.
Like she wished, I had the flowers planted on the graves, all eight of them. There's a rose bush on Willow and Oz's, blue roses, rather beautiful. On her sister's and Xanders, white lilies, and on her aunt and uncles, beautiful gardenias. On her parents, there's ivy. I couldn't think of the flowers she'd wanted there, I just remembered the others.
You should see them. It's the brightest part of the whole bloody cemetary.
I had that poem she wrote, so long ago, inscribed on the bench, and at the bottom, it says "In Eternal Loving Memory." As long as I exist, I know her memory will be loved. All of theirs will.
I've lost Dru, now I've lost her, but I'm not bitter. Did you know about dreamscapes? It's truly in the eye of the beholder... beautiful places, really. And they both visit, her and Dru. It's interesting...while I'm asleep, we can talk, and I never feel as though they've left when I wake up in the evening.
I have yet another Slayer to watch, and she's a gem. Her name's Amanda, and she looks frighteningly like a cross between Gaby and Willow. The best features of both. And she's just as resourceful as you were, and still are, Buffy. But her eyes...they remind me so much of Alex that I want to cry every time I look at Amanda.
Don't be thinking I'm going to wait for the sun to rise. I never did tell you what was on that CD I had, did I? The one I found the day after Alex was staked? So, I'm enclosing a copy.
She knew she'd be the first to go, and she didn't want me to hurt, God bless her, which I think He has. You should hear it. In fact, listen to it while you read the rest of this. Surprising, isn't it?
It's a small wonder she never sang for any of you. She had the most beautiful voice. And the guitar on those first two songs? That was Oz. He did it a very long time ago. She had a tape he had made for her, and transferred it over to CD when she had this made.
The mansion feels so bare, and I play that CD constantly. Amanda's almost ready to trash it, but I've had more copies made, and sent them to some of her relatives. That way, they can know the wonderful person she was. I'll be keeping a few for myself in case Amanda does decide to throw it out.
I still have the letter, too. It's framed, and up on the wall by our bed. I still refer to everything as "ours". That also drives Amanda wild. But I think she just wants to be in the moment, and for me to also. I feel more and more like Giles as the years pass. That's a particuarly scary thought.
You know, today was, if she had been alive, Alex's birthday. She would have been over 200. She lost count a long time ago, and never really bothered to keep track, or even try. I stopped somewhere around 300, and that was in the 22nd century, so...I'd say I'm about 400 or so now. Angel, that means...damn, that means your older than dirt.
I'm crying again, not because I want to, but I can't bloody well help it. I miss her so much. More than I missed Dru, really. Occasionally, I cast the spell she taught me, the one to go outside, and I just walk around by the beach, and watch the sunset. I might do that tonight.
Everyone says life's so unfair. I just realized death is, too. I'm ending this letter now, before I openly start sobbing again.
***
February 14, 2223
I read the letter and listened to the CD. Angel was sobbing so hard when he heard her sing. He really did, if nothing else, love her as a friend. I cried too, so don't think we do't know how you felt. We do.
It's Valentine's Day, and we spent it like we usually do. Protecting the humans.
But a week ago, I don't know if you knew, we went to the cemtary, and you were right. That was the most beautiful part of the cemetary.
I sat on the bench for hours, the only thing making me leave was the sun rise. It's truly sad, it really is, that we stay and fight. But we do, and that's what counts.
I copied the poem on the bench before I left, and I think you'll like what I had done. It's in this box, but be really careful when you open it.
I know it's not much, but, you remember the day you got your soul back? When she was in the hospital with pnemonia? And you brought a picture of both of you? Well, I took it, I was going to give it back, but I never did. So, I thought about it, and looked for it, and it was in surprisingly good quality, it being over 200 years old.
It's enclosed with the gift. Keep it, and remember the love you two had...it was one of a kind.
***
February 28, 2223
You have no idea what happened when I got that.
It gave me the strength to put the pain away.
Amanda had been expecting a package from the council, and when she saw who sent it, she woke me up and made me open it in front of her. And I didn't cry, much anyway. I loved the way the poem is inscribed under the picture. It's on the nghtstand, by the bed.
I went through her possessions today, and I was rather surprised. I read her Book of Shadows and noticed she put a lot of things in there that reflected how she felt while doing her spells.
It was nice to read her descriptions of herself. Made me feel better. And I opened up her diaries, and read through those as well. She wrote some rather interesting things in there, and even went so far as to put lengthy descriptions of our time together in there. I smiled, for the first time since she was killed, when I read those passages.
I never thought she loved me as much as I loved her, but I was wrong.
She loved me more.
I'm sending you something of hers, it belongs more to you than anyone else. Mike had given her a painting, on the small side, of Waterfront Park in Beaufort. I thought you'd appreciate it more.
I'm keeping most of it, except some of her clothing, which I'm giving to Amanda. She keeps complaining about lack of clothing. Thank God that the fashions of yours and Alex's time are making a comeback.
I feel...almost alive. It's strange. And needed, too.
It's hard surviving without her, but since that's what she wanted, I'm damn well going to try.
***
March 3, 2223
Buffy broke her hand, so she asked me to write the note. She said thank you for the picture, and she's put it up next to the other one Mike gave her, the one of the rose. It's beautiful, really. I wish I'd gotten to go there.
I'm glad you're doing well, and I hope you and your Slayer enjoy Sunnydale. We're going to London to attend the Watcher's Council meeting in your place, since Amanda's needed right now.
They had the month of mourning for Alex, did you know that? It's usually only for the head of the Council, but they made the exception. I found out that the current head is a direct descendent of hers, so he asked for it. Actually, it was more like he demanded it.
I have to go. I hope this letter finds you well, and once again, thank you for the picture.
***
To Buffy and Angel,
Spike's dead, and it's my fault.
We were sparring, and we got attacked. I wasn't being careful, and a demon staked him.
I didn't know what to do, so I killed every demon I could find in a twenty mile radius. I gathered his ashes, too, and I was wondering...what do I do with them? I know he was attached to a certain area of the cemetary, the one with the flowers, but...I don't know what to do. Also, would you mind watching me? For a while?
I'm sorry...more sorry than you could know.
***
"This is the place?"
Buffy nodded. "Yeah, Alex was sprinkled here. This is where he'd probably have wanted to be."
Angel opened the urn Amanda had handed him. "Do you want to do this, or should I?"
Amanda shook her head. "You were his sire."
Angel nodded and sprinkled Spike's ashes along the eight graves. In what was later known between the three later as "a fitting ending," two very pale figures, one male with blonde hair, and one female with red hair, appeared.
"Thank you," Alex's ghost said quietly, holding on to Spike's ghostly form.
Spike moved towards Amanda and gently kissed her cheek. "You did what you could, love. Don't ever think you didn't."
And with that, the two gosts vanished, together forever.