January 14^th, 2010:

Buffy got back to the Hyperion a few days later, it was the closest thing to a home she had. She took her time getting back from Auburn, California where Willow was – taking the long way west across the state to the Pacific Coast Highway, then heading south along the scenic road.  She walked most of the way, taking rides only occasionally.  It was her last tribute to Spike … to walk along this highway that they’d traveled so many times and to remember; to remember his voice, his laugh, to remember the mischief and love and desire and a thousand other emotions that always reflected so openly in his eyes, and to remember their children. She thought of things that she hadn’t allowed herself to think about in a very long time and she laughed and cried and screamed and danced and crawled along the roadway and later the beaches, as she made her way back to the City of Angels.

Back in the still deserted Hyperion hotel, Buffy dropped her bedroll and few belongings on the floor, then set the bottle of pills she’d taken from the hospital down on the reception counter, along with a bottle of chocolate wine and a chocolate bar that she’d lifted from a grocery store along the way.

The old legal pad with all of Buffy’s old notes sat on the reception counter and caught her eye. Buffy picked it up and flipped the pages until she found her ‘to-do’ list:

 D’Hoffryn – Get talisman and summon

Go back in time and kill Hallie

Find another vengeance demon and make my own wish

Go back in time and talk to Anya

Summon and destroy every vengeance demon – destroy D’Hoffryn

Buffy picked up a pencil from the counter and put a big check mark next to the last item listed. “Done,” Buffy announced to the empty room, “…and done,” Buffy said again, putting a check next to ‘kill Hallie’ before setting the pencil back down.  She wished that she could’ve gone back in time and killed Hallie before she got her mitts on William … but Hallie had been killed, nonetheless. Buffy smiled sadly as she looked at the big star she’d drawn next to that idea, remembering how much she had really, really wanted to do that, but cooler heads prevailed when Dawn explained about the dangers of ‘unintended consequences’ and time travel.

Buffy headed upstairs and took a long, hot shower … it was one luxury that she really had missed living on the streets and back alleys as she hunted her prey.  When all the hot water was gone, Buffy reluctantly got out of the tub, wrapped a towel around her body, and stood in front of the mirror, wiping the steam away so she could see her reflection. She stood and looked at herself for a long time, she still didn’t recognize this woman that looked back at her – her eyes were hardened, her expression grim, she looked as cold and unfeeling as her heart had felt the last years, and she suddenly worried that Spike really wouldn’t recognize her if she managed to get into hell with him.  She had gotten used to the scars on her face, even though she didn’t remember getting them … her hair color had faded slightly to an auburn-red and it had started growing in darker at the roots, but it was her soul that she was most worried Spike wouldn’t know … her soul felt like ice, like it had been put in suspended animation, like those people that freeze their bodies after they die, hoping that in a hundred years someone will figure out how to bring them back to life.  Buffy didn’t know if her soul could ever be revived … she’d had hope for a while, but nothing she’d done had ever made any difference … nothing had brought the other half of her soul back to her, and that, she was sure, was the only thing that could bring her own soul out of the cryogenic deep freeze.

Buffy wrote Dawn, the only person she thought might care, a short note to tell her goodbye, to thank her for believing her crazy story and for the help she’d given her.  She told Dawn how proud their Mom would be of what she’d accomplished and apologized again for not being there for her.  Riley had long ago filed for divorce from Buffy … Buffy never responded to the papers he sent to the Hyperion and once when she’d come back to L.A., she’d found a ‘Final Divorce Decree’ waiting for her, which she just tossed in the trash.

Buffy found a glass and took it, along with her chocolate wine, her Ghirardelli chocolate, her pills, and her final goodbye note out to the garden. She was a few days short of her twenty-ninth birthday, but she’d stopped thinking about birthdays long ago. When she was Called, her life expectancy went from about sixty more years down to about zero … and then she met Spike, and with him and all her friends by her side, she thought that she had a shot at living, if not a normal life, at least one longer than the average Slayer.  When she sacrificed herself to save Annie and Spike from Glory, Buffy had been ready to die – she knew what she had to do and there was a calm, peacefulness to her like she’d never known before or since; a calm that came from knowing, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that she was doing the right thing; this was her time; she’d fought the good fight and her time was done.

After the initial shock of being brought back from the dead and learning that Willow’s spell had made her immortal, she grew to embrace the idea that she could be with Spike forever, despite the worries that they would outlive their children, she felt that together, they could get through anything, even that.

Buffy sat down on the floor of the garden, leaned her back against the dry fountain, and poured herself a glass of the chocolate wine and nibbled on the chocolate bar as she pondered her life for the last time. Spike would’ve called her life an ‘E-ticket’ ride … in truth, it probably would’ve been a ‘Z-ticket’, if Disney had invented a ride that took you from California, down into the deepest depths of hell, then to the highest highs of heaven and back again…  She’d had everything, she’d lost everything more than once … struggled to be the wife and mother that her husband and children deserved, and she finally thought she was getting it figured out when everything was stolen from her.

“Well, at least I won’t have to face turning thirty…” Buffy quipped quietly as she looked up at the stars above and sipped her wine. Her eyes automatically searched the northern sky for her star … her’s and Spike’s.

“I’ll be there soon, baby,” she whispered to the stars before turning her attention to the pill bottle. She opened it and poured a bunch of the bright pink pills into her mouth like they were Tic-Tacs, then swallowed them with the wine … she did that three times, until all the pills in the bottle were gone. She laid down on the hard floor of the garden, closed her eyes and waited for the ride to begin…she wondered if they had re-stocked the spiders in limbo yet … she figured she’d soon find out.

As the pills started taking effect, Buffy’s head began to spin slightly and she felt like she was falling down through a long, black tunnel.  She could see a brilliant white light in the distance – it looked like it was a hundred miles away … then there was a brilliant white flash of light and suddenly she was bathed in the glow that had seemed so far away just a moment ago.  Buffy blinked against the unexpected brightness, covering her eyes with one hand. When she got her eyes adjusted and looked around, she realized immediately where she was. She was in the sterile super-natural courtroom … the last place she’d seen Spike outside of her nightmares.

Buffy sighed. “My turn …” she muttered as she looked around the empty area. When no one appeared after what seemed several minutes, Buffy walked to the center ring, where she knew Spike had faced his final judgment and called, “Hello?! Anybody home?!  I’ve come for my Moonpie!”

“Sorry … have to watch my figure … I can’t eat those things,” Lilah’s voice came from behind her and Buffy turned quickly to face the ‘clerk of court’.

“Well, that’s disappointing … I figured one benefit of being dead would be you could eat anything you wanted without gaining weight …” Buffy quipped.

Lilah shrugged. “Maybe in heaven … not here,” she explained.

“So … where are the judges?” Buffy asked, holding her arms out to the side and turning in a circle under the blacker than black sky, completing a full circle and facing Lilah again. “Tell you what – I’ll save us all some time. I plead guilty … just send me to hell. No muss, no fuss … none of those pesky appeals.”

“Before you do that … someone wants a word with you,” Lilah informed her. “But I was never here… understood? You haven’t seen me … I’m not involved ... you don't even know me! If you’re caught, you're on your own!”

“Huh?” Buffy asked moving towards the lawyer.  “Who?”

There was another bright flash of light which made Buffy close her eyes – when she blinked them open, her mom was standing where the lawyer had been.

“Mom!” Buffy cried, moving quickly towards her mother ... how long had it been? Five? ... no! nearly ten years!

“Oh, God! Buffy!” Joyce exclaimed, opening her arms and taking her daughter into a loving hug.

“Oh, mom … I missed you so much!” Buffy murmured against her mother’s shoulder as Joyce hugged her tight and dropped kisses on the top of her daughter's head.

“I know, honey … I’m so sorry I had to leave you … I love you so much,” Joyce told her, pulling back from the hug to look into Buffy’s glistening eyes.

“Buffy … I can’t stay long – you need to listen now …” Joyce started, brushing Buffy’s long, red hair back from her face.

“You need to keep your promise to Spike … your family is depending on you,” Joyce admonished her with a stern look.

“But … I did … I did everything I could! I tried everything I could think of!” Buffy defended.

Joyce shook her head. “You promised to never give up,” Joyce reminded her. “You promised to get the babies back, even if you couldn’t save Spike. You promised him, Buffy – he’s depending on you. You have to keep your word.”

Tears welled in Buffy’s eyes. “But … Mom … I …. I don't know what else to do! There’s nothing else! I can’t stay there … Mommy, please don’t make me,” Buffy begged as tears stained her cheeks. “Please … don’t make me live forever without him … I just … I’m not that strong.”

“You’re stronger than you think, Buffy – you’ve always been stronger than you thought, always succeeded against overwhelming odds,” Joyce reminded her, her voice soft but unwavering.

Buffy shook her head. “Not without Spike … not without my friends … my family. Without them, what’s left?”

The answer to Buffy’s question came from behind her, “You. Your heart. You must follow your heart’s true desire – only it can find the light.”

Buffy spun around to see Wanda standing behind her. “I did follow my heart!” Buffy insisted again, before turning back to her mom. “I killed Hallie … I killed her for Spike – for Spike and our babies. I took out every vengeance demon – every single one, including D’Hoffryn! I couldn’t get the wish reversed!!” she pointed out.

 “But that wasn’t what your heart truly wanted,” Wanda advised.

“It was! What else was there to do!?” Buffy questioned, turning back from her mom to Wanda.

Wanda handed Buffy her yellow legal pad with the list of ideas on it and Buffy looked down at the list. “See, I did all this! I didn’t talk to Anya, but I didn’t need to … I … I … I,” Buffy stopped and looked back up at Wanda. “I didn’t go back in time ... but I still killed her! That counts ... doesn't that count?" she asked her Guardian Angel with concern. When Buffy made the list, going back in time and killing her nemesis was the one thing that she had really, really wanted to do right from the start.

Wanda smiled softly at her and gave her a small shrug.

“But … but Dawn said … unintended consequences and dead butterflies and world-changing chaos stuff…” Buffy stammered, looking back from Wanda to her mom.

“Is that what I was supposed to do?!” she asked, looking frantically from her mother to her Guardian Angel. “Why didn’t you tell me before!?”

“I did, my dear. Follow your heart,” Wanda advised her again, before she disappeared.

Buffy looked back at her mom, her eyes wide with confusion and fear. “Keep your promise to him, Buffy. He’s a good man, he loves you so much … he deserves that. Save the babies – all of your babies, even if you can’t save him,” she advised and she too was gone in a flash of light.

“Mom! Wait! Oh God! Oh God!” Buffy exclaimed, trying frantically to wake up from the drug induced sleep.  Buffy finally woke up, back in the garden of the Hyperion, coughing, choking, and trying to breathe.  She quickly stuck her finger down her throat and began gagging, and what remained of the pills and wine and chocolate came out and covered the floor in front of her in a spray of bright pink and brown vomit.

Disoriented and struggling to remain conscious, Buffy half-crawled, half-stumbled out of the garden to the street, where she was nearly hit by a passing car.  When the driver stopped and got out to see if she was alright, Buffy could say no more than, “Help me,” before losing consciousness again.

Buffy awoke later that night strapped into a hospital bed … it was like déjà vu all over again … just like when Riley and Giles had admitted her to the hospital in England after the spiders attacked her in limbo. Buffy pulled on the restraints lightly, unlike the ones at the hospital in England, she was sure these would give if she used her full strength, and she sighed in relief and closed her eyes again.  She just needed to wait for her head to stop pounding and spinning first … then she’d go.

“Feeling better, dear?” a familiar voice came from the doorway of her room.

“Yes…” Buffy answered, not opening her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I did, dear child … you must always follow your heart – only it can lead you home,” Wanda reminded her, moving up to Buffy’s bedside.

“Are they going to let me go or do I need to break out?” Buffy asked, finally opening her eyes and looking at the older woman.

“They should release you in the morning, dear; they simply don’t have enough beds to hold every indigent, suicidal patient for long,” Wanda assured her.

Buffy nodded and closed her eyes again. “You should’ve told me …” Buffy insisted again.  “I wasted so much time.”

“My dear girl, I can’t tell you what to do; there are rules – rules that I’ve bent to the breaking point for you … for you and William. I can only point you in the direction of your dreams and hope you can find the right path. There are no guarantees, but your only chance is to follow your heart’s true desire,” Wanda explained. “Get some rest, dear … you’re going to need it,” Wanda advised, before turning and starting out of Buffy’s room.

“Wait!” Buffy called after her. “How do I go back in time?”

“Strong, dark magicks,” Wanda replied simply and left Buffy alone.

Buffy sighed. “Sounds just peachy,” Buffy muttered to herself. She tried to raise her hand and rub her eyes, but was stopped by the restraint around her wrist.  Buffy shook both arms in frustration, rattling the restraints against the metal railings on the sides of the bed. Why didn’t she just do what she had wanted to do in the first place all those years ago? Why had she let Dawn talk her out of it?

“Because everything Dawn said made perfect sense…” Buffy answered herself aloud. What if she did something wrong and ended up not only not saving her family, but actually making things worse? Although she wasn’t sure how it could get worse, she had lived on the Hellmouth long enough to know that no matter how bad things seemed, they can always get worse. Unfortunately, logic and reason rarely have any say in matters of the heart. The heart neither knows, nor cares, about logic or risks or making perfect sense ... it cares only about fulfilling its own desires.

**~**

January 15^th, 2010:

When Buffy was released the next day, with a two weeks worth of antidepressants, a referral to the county mental health doctor, and good-bye wave, she headed to the only person she knew that had ‘strong, dark magicks’: Rack.  She still couldn’t actually sense where his cloaked house of horrors was, but if she walked around the area just a little while, she’d find someone to follow who could lead her there. 

“Long time, Slayer … you’ve been quite the talk in the underworld … taking out D’Hoffryn, that was pure genius,” Rack greeted her with a wide grin, as he got up off the couch and started towards her. “You’ve got a real knack for destruction …”

“Yeah, I’m destructo-girl,” Buffy agreed, backing up and keeping Rack at arm’s length lest she get caught up in his magick and lose her focus. “Look, I need to go back in time … back to London, back to 1881 – can you do it?”

Rack looked at her for a few long moments then shrugged nonchalantly. “What could you possibly want to go back there for when I have everything you’ve ever wanted right here…” Rack questioned, waving his arms out to encompass the room and himself.

“My reasons aren’t important – I just need to know if you can do it and what it’ll cost,” Buffy told him, folding her arms across her chest.

Rack shrugged again and went back and sat back down on the sofa.

After a few minutes of thought, he shook his head. “I’ve only tried it once, Slayer … and I can tell you right now, it’s gonna take more power than even you have.”

Buffy had no way to know if he was lying or not, but she didn’t doubt that such a spell would require a lot of power … after several moments of silence, she asked, “How much more?”

Rack dropped his head back on the back of the sofa and looked up at the ceiling. “Lots.”

“If I can get it, can you do it?” Buffy asked.

“If you got the power, I got the magick, baby. I wouldn’t do this for just anyone, ya’ know – but you and me, we go way back, Avengelyne,” Rack advised, never looking at her.

“Ok – I’ll be back, you be ready,” Buffy told him before turning and heading out of the fun house to get what she needed … more power.

**~**

Buffy returned about an hour later, the Guardian’s scythe in hand – she knew it was powerful but she didn’t know if it would be enough.

“Will this work?” Buffy asked, handing the scythe to Rack.

Rack took it and turned it over in his hands, then looked back up at her. “I guess if you were chopping carrots it would, but I don’t feel any power in it.”

Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes, taking the scythe back. “How about now … do I have more power?”

Rack moved his hands slowly from her head down to her shoulders, never actually touching her, just as he did when she first came back to him, as if touching her aura. When his hands got even with her heart, his body tensed and he screamed out in pain then he was suddenly thrown back away from her with enough force to land him against the farthest wall.

“Oh, God! Are you ok?” Buffy asked, moving towards him to help him up.

Rack tried to clear his head, swinging his arms in front of his face to try and swat the chirping cartoon birds that were swirling around in front of his eyes, as Buffy helped him over to the couch.

“Does that mean I have enough power now?” Buffy asked, sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

“Yeah…” he moaned, holding his head with both hands. “I think that’ll do it.”

After clearing the cobwebs for a few minutes, Rack patted the sofa next to him, inviting her to sit there.  Buffy really didn’t want to sit on that sofa; she’d always avoided it in the past, it looked like it might have lice or bedbugs or other equally squicky things on it … but she stiffened her resolve and shifted over from the coffee table and sat where he indicated.

“Keep in mind, I can’t protect you from here … whatever happens to you there, will happen to you here. If you get killed or hurt there …” Rack warned her with a shrug.

“No problem … I’m used to that …” Buffy asserted. “Let’s do it.”

Rack picked up a greasy, chili-stained hotdog bag and a pen off the floor and handed them to her. “Write down exactly the date, time, and place you want to go on there,” he instructed. “I’ll keep you there as long as the power holds out, but it will be a onetime shot. Even with the power you have, I can only control it for so long before it becomes dangerous for me and drains my magick. You need to get whatever business you have there done quickly.”

“About how long will I have?” Buffy questioned, trying to get some idea of how fast she would need to work.

Rack shrugged again. “With that power, I’m guessing anywhere from eight to twenty-four hours … I can’t really be sure.”

“I need at least … at least ten hours,” Buffy insisted. She didn’t really know how long she’d need, but ten hours seemed like the minimum to find Hallie and carry out her heart’s desire.

“I’ll do my best…” Rack assured her, urging her to go ahead and write it out with a nod of his head towards the paper in Buffy’s hand.

Buffy used what Dawn had found on the genealogy sites to choose the place: Clapham, south London, which is where William grew up and where he and Cecily lived after they were married, in the family home with his mother.  She had a harder time deciding on a date … she finally decided to go before they were married, but after the new time-line started, after Hallie, or Cecily, had encouraged William’s advances. Buffy wrote down December 15, 1880 for the date and 12:00 noon for the time, sure that that would be well into the new timeline that Hallie had created, but before they were actually married in 1881.

“Now what?” Buffy asked, handing the paper bag back to Rack and grabbing the scythe, which was lying across her lap, and holding it in both hands.

“Now, get ready for the magical mystery tour …” Rack informed her with a leer that made Buffy suddenly feel like she’d made a huge mistake. Before she could question him further or move from her seat, Rack pressed the bag she’d written the place, time, and date on against her heart with the palm of his hand and Buffy felt something explode out of her. 

Buffy screamed out and her whole body tensed like a bow as the power of the scythe flowed through her body, out from her heart and into Rack and Rack’s magick flowed in. Rack closed his eyes and felt her power, felt her rapture, felt her scream engulf him … felt her come back to him just as readily and willingly as a kitten coming to a bowl of catnip-laced cream. His fallen angel was back and she’d brought with her the power of a thousand angels – he vowed to himself to find some way to hold onto her this time and never let her, or her angelic power, go again.

 **~**