Part 1:
"It's only for two weeks, Buffy, I'm sure you two will be fine," Giles assured Buffy Summers, surveying his wide array of suitcases.
"Yeah, that's what you said last time, Giles, and you ended up visiting family for a month."
"Really, I expected you to be happy. Faith certainly is," Giles added, glancing at the dark-haired slayer who was eating Ho-Ho's and cracking jokes with Xander.
"I am! Except for the fact that now I have to have discipline! I kinda like it better when you make me do stuff, rather then me having to decide what to do on my own. It's gonna end up being Slayer Fest 2000, I bet you."
"Yes, well, I had best be leaving. Do be careful. Nothing rash, all right?" Giles asked his slayer worriedly, picking up two of his seven suitcases.
"Nothing rash, I promise. Rash isn't exactly a part of my life nowadays. Rash for Buffy has become skipping a week of school."
"Uh..." Giles stammered. "I'm leaving. Do *not* skip slaying. If I come back to find the town overrun with demons, I will not be happy."
"All right, Giles. Good-bye!" Buffy practically shoved Giles out the door of the library and muttered, "Whoo! I thought he'd never leave!"
"So, Honey, how is Josh?" Joyce Summers asked Buffy over dinner.
Buffy glanced at her watch for the umpteenth time, wondering again where Faith was. "Huh? Oh, Josh? We broke up."
"Oh, Sweetie, I'm sorry," Joyce cooed.
"Nah, it wasn't anything big. We went out for a month, he was nice and all, nothing clicked."
"Well maybe clicking isn't necessary. Was he a vampire?" Joyce asked worriedly.
"No, Mom, that was Angel," Buffy assured her mother, finishing off her broccoli. "And clicking is necessary. Believe me."
"I-" Joyce began. She was cut off when the doorbell rang.
"So, graveyard or park?" Faith asked as the two slayers
walked together.
Buffy shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Graveyard?"
"'K," Faith agreed. "I really hate that place. More than the
park, you know? All you get out of it is memories...not very
cheery ones at that. It's like 'Welcome to Sunnyhell
Cemetary. Watch the dead rise, free of charge.'"
Buffy laughed and then turned serious. "I like the graveyard,
as scary as that sounds. I mean, I don't get bad memories
from it."
"You lost a lot of oxygen in the graveyard, how could you?"
Faith muttered, but smiled to show she was joking.
Before Buffy could answer, three vampires ambushed the
slayers. Buffy kicked two off of her and plunged a stake into
the small female's heart. Meanwhile, Faith was sinking
punches left and right at the burly one that had tackled her.
"Any last words?"
"I-" the large vampire began, but Faith staked him too
quickly. "Guess not."
Buffy continued to struggle with a small but supremely strong
male vampire as another vampire crept up on Faith. "Look
out!" Buffy yelled.
Faith whirled around and began a fist fight with the vamp and
Buffy continued to try to stake the vampire.
< I'm losing this fight, > Buffy thought to herself, suddenly
feeling very scared. < This would be the perfect time for
someone to pop out and save me, but it isn't going to happen.
>
Buffy tried a spin-kick on the vampire, but he was too strong
and caught her leg, flipping her over. He punched her twice
and threw her against a large gravestone before Faith plunged
a tree branch through his back. He combusted, but it was too
late. Buffy was unconcious and breathing raspily on the
ground.
"B! Buffy! Wake up!" Faith yelled at her. She attempted to
slap her awake with no avail. Faith put two fingers on
Buffy's wrist and felt for a pulse. She finally found one,
faint and uneven.
< Great, what am I going to do now. No phone, no help. >
Faith made a split-second decision and gathered all her
strength to lift her fellow slayer partially off the ground.
Faith dragged Buffy to the nearest location, the library. <
Dumbasses. Left the thing open! > Not that she was
complaining. It was at least ten minutes to her place.
Faith snatched up the phone and debated who to call. "Damn
you, Giles, just had to go to London!" Finally Faith called
the paramedics and then Buffy's mother.
"Will she be ok?" Faith asked, jumping into the ambulance
with Buffy. Four doctors were attempting to stablize her.
One doctor turned to face her. "She's alive."
< No kidding, Doc, > Faith thought to herself. "Will she
live?"
The doctor looked at her sadly. "I'd give her a five percent
chance."
Part 2:
"Oh, my poor baby!" Joyce Summers squealed, looking at her
coma-ridden daughter. "What happened?"
Xander pulled her aside and explained the events leading up
to this moment in a whisper.
"Oh! What can I do?" Joyce asked in worry.
"Just sit tight," Willow commanded gently from the corner.
Faith was at a pay phone attempting to reach Giles. "Hello?
I'd like to place a collect call to England."
"England, do you say? Please dial the number at the beep."
Faith dialed in Giles' number and waited. "Please say your
name."
"Giles, it's Faith, Buffy's dying!" Faith screeched, knowing
that would get him to take the expensive call.
"Faith?" came a worried voice from the other end of the line
after a moment.
"Giles! You have to come home. Right now," Faith demanded in
tears.
"It's Buffy?" Giles asked worriedly.
"She was attacked at the graveyard. She's in a coma, she's
got a 5% chance. You need to come back and do that thing with
your books. Please?" Faith begged.
"Yes, hold on." Faith heard Giles turn to someone and yell,
"Carleen! I need the first flight to LAX!"
"Giles?" Faith asked.
"Hmm, oh yes, my sister will get me a ticket right away.
Please leave me a number to contact you at, telling of my
arrival."
Faith looked at the pay phone number and rattled it off
quickly. "Giles, do you think she'll make it?"
"She's strong," Giles said. "Being the slayer will help, but
things aren't looking up. Slayers rarely live past their
mid-twenties, anyhow. Maybe this is an omen, saying that her
time is up."
"No!" Faith wailed angrily. "She didn't deserve this. It
should be me who dies, if any of us. She's got a life, more
than I do. She has family. People that love her. She needs to
live!"
"Faith, calm down. There's nothing you can do now but sit
tight and hope for the best. I shall arrive in Sunnydale as
soon as I can. Give my deepest sympathy to her mother," Giles
requested of Faith before hanging up.
< This isn't fair to her! > Faith thought to herself. < I'm
going to find whoever the leader is, and pummel him until he
begs for mercy. >
"Faith," Cordelia said gently. She took Faith's arm and
guided her to a plastic couch. "There's nothing you can do
but wait."
"But don't you see? This is my fault! I was there with her,
and I didn't get there to save her in time. Just like my
watcher. Just like my parents."
Oz and Willow put their arms around her comfortingly.
"I'm going to get an update from the doctor," Xander said,
jumping up and snagging an orderly.
"How is she?" he asked immediately.
"Miss Summers, I presume you ask about? She has suffered head
trauma and blood loss. She is still deeply in a coma. The
only thing I can suggest is for her closest friends to talk
to her and hold her hand. Maybe it will spark something and
she will push through." The orderly gave Xander a half-smile
and walked away.
"Ok, people, you heard the man! To Buffy's room we go!"
Xander declared, earning a "shhh!" from everyone in the
waiting room.
Joyce, Xander, Cordelia, Willow, Faith, and Oz all headed to
the elevators.
Part 3:
"Taxi to Sunnydale General Hospital, please," Giles told an
airport attendant.
Giles arrived at the hospital exactly 24 hours after the
attack. It was 9 PM on Wednesday. "How is she?" he asked
Xander.
"Still in a coma," Xander answered sadly. "It looks bad.
Really bad."
Giles nodded and peeked his head into her ICU room. She was
hooked up to numerous machines, all beeping and flashing
rhythmically.
"What can we do?" Joyce asked.
Giles jumped, having not heard her approach. "Research."
"Find anything?" Joyce asked wearily seven hours later. It
was 4 AM on Thursday.
Giles shook his head. "Nothing. I must have looked through
every book concerning demons twice…" he trailed off,
noticing a thick black book wedged under his desk. He
snatched it up, and flipped it open. "Oh my."
"What?" Joyce asked worriedly, fearing the worst.
"It's a-a prophecy of sorts. It says here that a powerful
slayer will be kicked into a coma by an evil vampire on the
third night of the week following the full moon in the ninth
month of the initial year of the second millenium." Giles
continued to scan the page. "Oh dear."
"What?" Joyce asked again.
"I-it isn't finished. It s-says that the sl-slayer will
remain in a coma for four and a half days. The only one with
the power to awaken her is her true love. If he arrives by
the final hour- that would be 9 AM on Sunday- she will come
out of the coma and live. If he does not, she will die."
Joyce gasped. "B-but wh-who?"
"I believe that would be Angel," Giles said softly.
"Angel? The vampire? But he moved away last spring."
"That is the problem. No one but Cordelia has seen him
recently, and she hasn't seen him in two months. If she does
know his whereabouts, we still have to go about contacting
him- by Sunday."
"My baby!" Joyce sobbed.
Part 4:
"Xander!" a bleary-eyed Giles called, rushing into the
hospital with Joyce on his heels.
Xander's head shot up. If he hadn't known better, Giles would
have sworn that he was drunk. But sleep deprivation and worry
can do that to a person. "Giles! Did you find anything?"
"Yes..." Giles looked extremely unhappy. "Where is
everybody?"
"Willow offered to buy everyone the water with coffee
beans...you know, the fake out-of-a-machine crap?" Xander
motioned towards the double doors at the end of the hallway.
"Get them," Joyce ordered in a very un-Joyce like manner.
Xander didn't have to be told twice. He ran down the hallway
at a surprisingly fast speed. On a second thought, Joyce and
Giles followed him.
"Hey!" Willow said when she spotted them. She was slowly
drinking a steaming cup of watery coffee. "Anything found?"
Giles nodded. "Yes. We need to talk."
Joyce, Giles, and Xander pulled up chairs to the pink tables
and Giles looked at the group solemnly. "We found
a...propechy."
"You mean it was predicted?!" Xander yelped, jumping up.
"Sort of," Giles said feebly, staring at the group.
"What do you mean, 'sort of'?!" Faith asked. "How can it be
'sort of'?!"
"It was unfinished," Joyce explained. Giles then took over.
"It stated...that a slayer would be injured and...put into a
coma. She'd remain for four and a half days. That's where it
had two ending options."
"What is this, choose your own adventure?" Cordelia muttered.
"I suppose that that's one way to refer to it. Actually, it
all depends on a certain person. If her true love awakens her
within four and a half days- by Sunday at 9 AM- then she'll
survive. Otherwise, she'll die."
"Hey, this is great!" Xander cried.
Everyone looked at him like he had three heads.
"No, not that Buffy's in a coma. I mean all we have to do is
call Josh and tell him to come here. I have his number right
here..."
Willow slapped him on the arm. "It's not Josh, Stupid. In
case you forgot, they broke up. I know who it is. And I don't
know where he is..." her voice trailed off to a whisper.
"Angel," Faith breathed softly. She looked at Cordelia.
"Where is he?"
"You're asking me? My acting career flunked, I moved back.
Ok? I saw him two months ago, but he kept mumbling about
moving out and he called me 'Buffy' three times. Jeez, I mean
I was like 'hello, you haven't seen the girl in over a year,
move on!'"
"Good one, Cordy!" Xander half-yelled. "You probably
encouraged him to move. How the *hell* are we going to find
him in three days?"
"I don't know, Xander," Giles whispered hoarsely. "I honestly
don't know."
Part 5
"Here it is," Cordelia Chase announced, pointing to a page in
her expensive leather address book. "Four-oh-nine West
Sycamore Grove."
"I know where that is," Oz offered. "We had a gig at the club
near there the last year."
"I haven't seen him in two months..." Cordelia looked
doubtful.
"We have to try," Xander said. "What if he's there? This is
Buffy's only hope." He turned to Willow. "Are you sure it
couldn't be Josh?"
"For the last time, Alexander Harris, yes!" Willow said,
annoyed.
"Right. Sorry."
"I can drive there. I have my van. I can get there by 9 PM
tonight."
"Today's Thursday. We have til 9 AM on Sunday. Ok, Oz,
hurry," Willow said.
"See ya." Oz gave Willow a peck on the cheek and ran out the
door.
"Do you think he'll find him?" Willow asked timidly a few
minutes later, breaking the thick silence.
Everyone looked at her sadly, their eyes betraying their
thoughts- that he wouldn't.
"Let's go talk to Buffy," Xander suggested. They all trekked
to her room again.
She looked so frail and helpless, lying on the bed surrounded
by what looked like more machines than she had internal
organs. The soft beeps and buzzes sounded chaotic to the
groups ears as the pale slayer lay on the bed, in the same
position as she had been for more than a day, her mussed
blond hair surrounding her face.
Joyce covered her mouth to stop the sobs. "My poor baby, she
didn't deserve this!"
"Be positive, Mrs. Summers," Faith said gently. She looked at
Buffy. "Hey there, B. It's Faith. Yeah, you know me. The
reckless slayer with the sick jokes. I'm really sorry, you
hear me? I didn't mean for that to happen, but we can't dwell
on it. You need to come back, ok? You hear me? You need to
come back."
Xander cut in. "Hey, Buff. I don't know if you can hear me or
not, but it's worth a shot. We need you here. You've got a
huge history final, we all do, I need to copy off your paper,
please? Wills won't let me, so I need yours. You're a pal, I
know you'll come out of this coma soon." He sunk back into a
chair. In truth, he couldn't care less about the history
final.
Willow took over. "Buffy. Hey. Wow. This is really weird.
Wow. Um, I bet you can hear me. Of course you can! You always
listen, even when I'm sure you're not, 'cause if I were you,
I wouldn't be listening. Angel's coming. You hear me? Angel.
Yeah, you remember Angel. I know that even in your dream
world, if you can hear nothing else, you can hear Angel. You
never got over him, huh? I bet you're thinking of him right
now. Well he's coming for you. Oz just had to go get him. And
he's going to come, and you can wake up, and get married, and
be happy! I'll find a way to remove Angel's happiness clause,
I will, as long as you come back."
Cordelia grinned at Buffy. "Hey, hear the good news? You'll
be able to get pelvic without problems. But first you gotta
wake up. That tired-and-dead look really isn't you." Cordelia
ignored the glares from her friends. "See those looks they're
giving me? Course you don't. Who cares? You're gonna get up
in a sec, and I'm going to do your hair all pretty. I bought
special lilac perfume. Eighty-five dollars. It matches your
personality, you can use it. It's imported. From Israel. Or
was it France? No, I think it was Japan. Well whatever. You
can read the label and tell me when you wake up." A desperate
note entered her voice. "C'mon, Buffy, wake up! You can have
the whole damn bottle! Ok, I'll pay you to take the bottle!
Just wake up!"
Giles interuppted. "Um, hi...this is awkward. I really don't
know what to say. You're like my daughter, Buffy, I need you
to come back. Who else can I order around and have them
disobey me in such a lady-like manner? Uh...I'm sure Faith
would like help. Yes. Please, Buffy. As crazy as this sounds,
I need you in my life. You're the daughter I never had. I
love you, Buffy. That was your cue to role your eyes and tell
me I'm sick, but I didn't mean it that way, and you know it."
He chuckled. "There's no demons...no prophecies...except for
yours. And if you wake up, you'll be home free! How does
three weeks off from slaying sound? Ok, a month. Two months?
You drive a tough deal...one that I'm having with myself..."
"Buffy." Joyce took a deep breath and choked on her tears.
"Honey. Please. Wake up, Baby. I love you. I know I haven't
been the best about slaying. Or anything, for that matter.
But I'll do better, I promise. When Angel comes, and you get
up, you can visit him as much as you want. You can stay out
late at night-all night, if you wish. I won't bother you
about slaying. How does shopping sound? We haven't had a
mom-sponsored shopping trip since...since your 17th birthday.
Ha. Bet you'll never forget that! But we want happy thoughts,
huh? Please, Buffy, you're my only daughter. I need you.
You've saved my life so much, in so many ways. Please,
Darling. Wake up."
A figure in the doorway began to speak. "Hey, Sweetie. You
always were one for sleep. Yep, it's me, your good ol' dad. I
guess I haven't been such a great one, huh? But I promise,
I'll do better. You want to come to LA? It's a great place. I
hear your boyfriend is living there. Sounds nice. Buffy...I
love you. I don't know what else to say, except I love you
and I can't handle your death." Hank gave a small smile and
left.
Part 6
"Did you get him?!" Willow asked hurriedly when Oz came
through the front doors of the hospital.
Everyone noticed Oz's sad face. "No. He wasn't there. I found
the tenant, she said he moved. No forwarding address."
"No!" Willow gasped. She began to cry, and sunk to the floor,
sobs shaking her body uncontrollably. "No!"
Oz sat down beside her and put his arm around her, a sad look
on his face.
Cordelia was sobbing softly against Xander, as Joyce was
against Giles, and Faith had taked off for the bathroom.
No one got much sleep that night.
In the morning, Willow pulled out her laptop.
"What are you going to do?" Faith wanted to know. Her eyes
were red from crying, it was obvious she blamed herself.
"Hack," she said in a whisper.
"Into what?" Xander asked.
"LA housing. See if Angel staked- pardon my pun- a place
anywhere."
"Knowing Angel- which I didn't very well- he didn't seem to
be one to tell the city departments where he was staying,"
Xander said.
"It's worth a try." The hacker glanced at her watch. Friday
morning 8:08 AM. She motioned for Faith, Cordelia, and Joyce
to follow her and headed for the ladies room.
Once in the ladies room, she hit a bunch of buttons until a
series of beeps were heard and she grinned. "Yes! I got in!"
"Ok, put in his name," Faith instructed.
Willow bit her lip, mirroring the actions of Joyce and
Cordelia. After a few minutes she sighed. "Nothing. I've
searched Angel, Angelus, and anyone with the last name
Summers, which I know wasn't his name, and everything else I
could think of, for that matter, but... anyway, all I found
was some elderly lady out in East LA named Angela Martin."
"Damn it!" Faith groaned. "Damn it to Hell!"
Willow continued to click around. She typed in Angel's old
address. No forwarding address. "No!"
The rest of Friday and into Saturday morning was spent
searching every record imagineable for Angel's where-abouts.
Newpaper articles reporting mysterious deaths, and anonymous
do-gooders offered no help.
Part 7:
Angel groaned and rolled over. He glanced at the clock. Ten
AM on Saturday. He hadn't been able to sleep, for some odd
reason. He would start to drift off, and thoughts of Buffy
would plague his thoughts. Almost like a message, but Angel
knew that was silly.
You gotta stop it! he scolded himself mentally. You haven't
seen her in over a year. Move on!
His heart contradicted every statement his brain made, and he
finally fell into a fitful sleep.
* Buffy walked down the graveyard path, looking around the
headstones for vampires. She shook her head and whispered
something to Faith.
Faith and Buffy talked for a few minutes. Suddenly, vampires
attacked. Faith and Buffy fended them off at first.
Buffy fought a huge vampire. He grabbed her leg. She went
down screaming.
Suddenly the setting was a hospital room. Buffy was lying in
bed, surrounded by machines. Friends and family surrounded
her, trying to awaken her.
Their voices could be faintly heard, as if on a TV with the
volume very low.
"Wake up," Willow whispered. She sounded so far away.
"Angel's going to come get you."
Suddenly the scene shifted again, to a barren field. Whistler
stepped forward. "Help her," he whispered crypitcally, then
vanished. *
Angel awoke with a start, sweating and gasping for breath
that he didn't need. "Just a dream," he whispered to himself.
"Just a dream."
Angel stood up and headed into the kitchen on his apartment.
He pulled open the fridge and removed a bag of blood. For some
reason, he felt extremely disgusted. Almost unconciously, he
poured it into a cup and sipped it. Salty. It didn't satisfy
his hunger as it usually did, in fact, he felt worse than
before.
Angel was now moving without thinking now. He pulled open the
shades to his only window and stood back from the sunlight.
Welcome to Kyserville was plastered on a sign practically in
his front yard.
What if she needs me? Angel thought to himself. She doesn't
know where to find me now. He shook off the thought. She can
fend for herself. It's better this way. It was just a
nightmare. If every nightmare you had was a prophecy, you'd
probably be dead...more dead...right now.
Angel strolled away from the window, not bothering to close
the blinds. He opened the drawer of his small mahogany desk
and pulled out a framed photo.
Behind the plate of glass and sterling silver frame was a
picture. Buffy. She was sitting sideways on a red bike, in
denim shorts and a lavender tank top, grinning
uncontrollably. Willow and Xander were laughing and tossing
sand in the background.
Angel thought back to that day. He hadn't been there. Buffy
had announced that she, Willow, Xander, and Faith were going
to the beach, and Angel had begged them to take a picture.
Buffy had shown up the next day with the promised picture. It
had been about a week before he left. She had whispered,
"Remember me." And then she was gone. He removed the picture
from the frame and flipped it over. In loopy green script,
Buffy had scrawled I love you forever. She had signed it with
her name and a lopsided smiley face.
Stop thinking about her! Angel reprimended himself. It's
better this way. She's fine, having fun with her friends, I'm
sure. Angel slipped the photo back into the frame and was
about to push it back under his papers, but on second thought
stood it up on his desk beside his green lamp and pencil cup.
It looked like it belonged.
Angel headed towards his closet, and, deciding he wasn't
going to get any sleep, picked out an outfit to where. He
showered and changed, and went to close his closet when
something caught his eye. A little pink foot.
Angel grinned and pulled out Mr. Gordo, Buffy's prized pig.
She had given it to him and repeated, "Remember me."
He had given her his Claddaugh ring on a chain to wear around
her neck, and promised her he would.
Angel sunk into his black leather armchair, clutching the
pink pig thoughtfully. It still carried her scent, light and
rosey.
He didn't know how long he sat on that chair, just thinking.
It could have been minutes, it could have been days.
Eventually he fell back into a restless sleep.
* Buffy stood above a familiar cliff that overlooked
Sunnydale. "Angel," she whispered enchantingly.
Angel found himself trying to talk, and realized he couldn't
talk or even see himself.
"How I wish you were here," Buffy said softly, looking out
over the city of Sunnydale.
Angel's eyebrows went up. She didn't know he was there?
A voice from behind answered his unspoken question. "She
doesn't know you're there. She can't see you or hear you.
Listen to her."
Buffy suddenly collapsed. "Help me, Angel. I need you. Please
help me, Angel."
Angel tried to call out to her, but couldn't.
"Angel!" she cried desperately. "Please! I need you! Angel!"
Her voice softened. "Angel," she whispered, gasping for
breath. "I'm dying, Angel. I love you. Remember me." And then
all was silent. *
Angel awoke from his dream with a start. He gasped for
breath. "Buffy," he whispered. He glanced out the window and
was surprised to see that night had come while he was
brooding and sleeping. He jumped up. "Buffy."
Part 8:
Willow glanced at the clock for the millionth time that hour.
Midnight. That meant, techincally, it was Sunday morning.
Stop! Time, stop! She slapped herself, literally. Stop going
schitzo, Willow!
"Willow? You ok?" Xander asked.
She was about to answer when a doctor ran down the hallway
hollering. It would have been funny had she not been saying
what she was.
"Room 365! Hurry! She's gone into cardiac arrest!" the doctor
yelled, grabbing a bunch of weird-looking instruments and
racing back.
"Omigod!" Willow shrieked. "That's Buffy!"
Everyone was up in a second, running towards the room. It was
practically barricaded, no one could get in due to the swarm
of doctors.
Joyce shoved through, and ran for Buffy.
"Excuse me, Miss, you'll have to leave," a nurse said
desperately.
When Joyce didn't, no one tried to stop her. Her strecher-bed
was wheeled away into a room that didn't allow visitors.
About twenty minutes later, a tall doctor interuppted the
pacing of family and friends.
"How is she?" everyone asked at once.
"Well," the doctor began somberly, "She's stablized."
"That's great!" Willow squealed.
"But," he continued, "She's losing. Her chances are worse.
It's getting worse." He turned to Joyce. "You have to fill
out papers. Do you want to revive her if she fades
out...stuff like that."
Joyce gasped and turned a sickly pale color. "Buffy," she
whispered.