Prologue
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Title: Second Chances- Prologue
Author: spiliasan
Contact: spiliasan@s...
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: pre-season 7, seasons 2-7
Summary: Someone gets a second chance to change a
few things. I know very vague.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Joss Whedon,
David Greenwalt, etc, etc...
Pairing: anyone that has ever been paired in ATS or BTVS so far or proposed for the future.
Note: Special thanks to Psche and her wonderful
transcripts and to Tina for her great story. And
to Tara- for answering my questions!!
Dedications: BA Fan, Lola, Rac, Jeanny, Rachel, Tina,
Sorrow midnight, NP Jones, Mariah and Drackling.
Feedback: yes Please!!!!!
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June 2002
It was dark where he was. Not like nighttime on Earth, where even the blackest of nights at least held some light, even if it were from a few lonely stars. No, this was true darkness, absolutely devoid of any light. Complete blackness, inky and terrifying. Still, he stood there waiting. He silently cursed himself for not only agreeing to this meeting, but not picking up that Timex Indiglo watch he'd been eyeing for some time. At the very least, he'd have been able to light up a small portion of this realm. Sighing to himself, he began to pace, growing more impatient as the seconds clicked by in his head. "Where is he?!", he thought to himself, "This is the appointed place and time, near as I can figure. He should be here by now." He stopped pacing, taking a moment to adjust his fedora.
"Whistler!"
At the sudden mention of his name, Whistler, the Keeper of The Balance, jumped a good three feet in the air as a cone of pale light surrounded him, casting his features in sinister shadow. He looked around, spinning about in a circle when he spotted the being who had spoken his name. The very being he was waiting for.
"D'Hoffryn."
The being known as D'Hoffryn, Lord of the Vengeance Demons, or Justice Demons, as they now preferred, slowly moved toward Whistler, a cone of light around him as well. He spread his arms wide in greeting to Whistler.
"Whistler, my good and loyal friend, I thank you for meeting me." He wrapped his arms around the smaller demon and hugged him warmly, then released him. "It has been too long."
"Not long enough!", said Whistler, clearly still spooked and more than a little annoyed. "Why did you ask to see me now, D'Hoffryn? There's great trouble in the universe, particularly on Earth. I have a lot of work to do."
"Yes, your dimension is in a great state of chaos. I have observed this." On that statement, D'Hoffryn waved his right arm out to his side, illuminating six images. They were images that Whistler recognized all too well. They were Earth's Chosen, the Champions of Earth, the few in the world who could stop the forces of darkness. Buffy Summers, the twice dead and twice resurrected Slayer, Angelus, now Angel, the Powers That Be's hand picked champion, Cordelia Chase, the now half demon Seer, who gave up fame and happiness to fight the good fight with Angel, William 'The Bloody', the vampire known as Spike,whose love for the Slayer led to his joining the forces of good, Willow Rosenberg, the most powerful witch in modern times, seduced by the siren call of vengeance and the darkest magic, and Faith, successor to Kendra, as she was to Buffy, as the Slayer. Whistler took in these images, noting that they seemed to be frozen in place like video cassettes on pauses. He turned to D'Hoffryn, a question forming in his mind, but before he could say anything, D'Hoffryn began to speak.
"Why do I show you these images? Because I wish to play a game. I will explain the game I wish to play soon. But for now, watch these images play themselves out while we wait for the third player." With a flick of his wrist, D'Hoffryn willed the images to play. It was a strange experience for Whistler to watch the events representing the six people unfold, for they evoked in him both feelings of hope and guilt. The mix of suffering and joy was as uncomfortable to him as a knife twisting in his guts.
The first scene he focused on was Faith. It was the shortest scene, and the most disappointing. This girl, who overcame so much sadness in her life to become a great Slayer, had been seduced by the very evil she fought against, turning her away from the only real friends she ever had. Now, three years later, she laid every night on a cot in a six by ten cell, paying the price for her redemption. He turned from that image, saddened, only to come face to face with Willow, hair and eyes black as onyx from the absorption of blackest magic. The scene fast forwarded to her being crumpled in a heap, crying into the chest of Alexander Harris. Her hair faded to its original color as her power was drained away, fueled in part by the stolen power of Rupert Giles. Her attempt to burn the world to a cinder had been foiled, but at what price? The poor child's own private world had been dashed to pieces by a pathetic little boy trying to play a man and his random bit of lead. And of course, right next this image was Angel's. The vampire with a soul was only just beginning to be rewarded for the work he had done for the Powers, what with the birth of his son and his burgeoning love for Cordelia Chase, only to have his life ripped away from him by an enemy from beyond the grave. Ever the martyr, Daniel Holtz used his own death at the hands of one of his own disciples to turn Angel's son Connor against him. The ploy was successful and now Angel lay entombed in a coffin of steel, buried at sea beneath the waves of the Pacific Ocean.
Those were the scenes of misery, though, and now Whistler turned to observe the other three images. First to play out for him was Cordelia. The once cruel little girl had sacrificed so much for the good of the world, and now she finally being rewarded. As he watched the image, he could feel Cordelia join the other on this higher plane of existence, taking her place amongst those who serve the Powers. Then Buffy Summers, whose just reward in Heaven was ripped from her as she was ripped back into the world of the living by her friends, who drifted through her new life in a fog of unfeeling, whose only release was an illicit sexual relationship with Spike, was finally enjoying life again. It only took the near death of her sister, her friends and the world at large, but she was finally ready to live in the world.
And finally, there was Spike. The neutered vampire who fought the good fight for the Slayer, who had become her confidant, the rock she could lean on, had found his love for Buffy repaid with cruel remarks and derision. Even when they began their affair, she swore him to secrecy, on account of her shame. Then she cut everything off. Finally, things hit rock bottom and Spike snapped. So desperate was he to show her how to feel again, that he had attempted to force himself on her. No matter how either of them attempted to justify it to themselves, it was still attempted rape. Broken and horrified by his actions, and realizing that as he was, he couldn't be a man nor could he be the monster he was, Spike fled to darkest Africa to become the only thing he could be: What Buffy Deserved. Facing and overcoming the three challenges laid out before him, he was rewarded with his life.
To the layman, it seemed to be a balanced deal. Three good situations, three bad. But to Whistler's trained eye, it was as bad as bad got. Even as he viewed the images, he knew that forces were aligning to take advantage of the situation, especially in Sunnydale, where both the good and bad events meant that the Hellmouth had even less hope than before. Whistler definitely didn't like what he was seeing, but he just knew in his heart that everything would have to work out okay in the end.
Now, the only things he couldn't fathom was what game was D'Hoffryn playing at? More to the point, what game was he talking about? And how did it involve these six people? And lastly, who was this third player in D'Hoffryn's scheme.
Whistler's third question was quickly answered.Another cone of light appeared, at first encompassing nothing, but slowly a silhouette formed within the light. The silhouette faded in and out before resolving into a huge demon, gray in color and clad in medieval battle armor. His red eyes glowed in the dark, and he had a halo formed from bone bisecting his head at the ears and going over his head like a roll bar. The halo was broken at one point just above his right eye. He looked every bit the personification of viciousness and destruction, a façade that lasted until he began to speak.
"Hi. Name's Skip. You must be Whistler." He spoke with a polite, gentle voice, almost dignified. He put out his for Whistler to shake. Whistler hesitantly took the larger hand with his own and was rewarded with a firm and hearty handshake. "Nice to make your acquaintance! D'Hoffryn has told me so much about you." He released Whistler from the handshake and turned to D'Hoffryn. "So, why are we here? What's this 'game' you wish to play?"
"Well", began D'Hoffryn, "now that we are all here, I suppose that I can explain the Game. First, though, I ask you both this question. Do you remember my most accomplished apprentice, Anyanka? Well, three years ago, Earth time, she granted her final wish to our most recent ascendant, one Cordelia Chase. The wish was a simple one, 'I wish Buffy Summers had never come to Sunnydale!'. This simple wish had an astounding reality altering effect. It completely changed the entire world. It was indeed what my dear Anyanka had said, a 'Brave New World'. I wish to see this again."
Whistler was aghast. D'Hoffryn wanted to meddle in the lives of these people? That was his game?! It was a sickening thought. D'Hoffryn again picked up on Whistler's unvoiced thoughts. "Not to worry, my old friend", he said, "We'r all good doers here. If anything gets too out of hand, we'll stop it immediately. D'Hoffryn looked over the faces of his fellow Gamers. "So, shall we play our little Game? Or should I just send some Justice Demons into the past and let them play?" Whistler and Skip looked at each other, then at D'Hoffryn. Slowly, they nodded their heads in agreement. D'Hoffryn smiled. "Excellent! Now then, what shall be our guiding change? Our catalyst to get this Game in motion? Do we allow Angel's soul to be restored before he opens Acathla's Doorway? No, too happy. Maybe we should make it so he never got his soul back ever? Or maybe." D'Hoffryn looked away from his companions for a moment, gazing off into the black void. He raised his head up, as if looking into something, then returned his gaze on Whistler and Skip. "Well!? Give me some ideas! This isn't a spectator sport! Give me an idea. Something so small, yet so significant, that our 'Brave New World' has no choice but to come into be! Think!"
Skip had a few ideas for changes, but they were limited to the side players in this world, and even then limited to Angel Investigations, who he had only begun having dealings with this year. So, he didn't have a proper frame of reference to start the change. D'Hoffryn had many ideas, but none that he wished to use for the catalyst. He wanted his changes to be the twists in the plot, not the storyline itself. It was more fun that way.
So it fell to Whistler, since he knew these people and the time frame the best. He thought long and hard, going through idea after idea, trying to make a choice that wouldn't catastrophically alter the lives of these people. Finally, he had a brainstorm. How about a change that wouldn't alter these people's lives so much as just fast forward them a little? Perfect. And he even knew the perfect point to make the change. He formulated his idea into a specific plan and said to D'Hoffryn, "I'm ready."
"Excellent! Now, since we are in my realm, I am nearly omnipotent and therefore do not need for you to make a wish. Just hold your change in your mind and ask me your question."
Whistler exhaled slowly. "What if Spike had a soul when he attacked the patrons of PTA night, that evening at Sunnydale High School.
D'Hoffryn's eyes gleamed with power. "My friends…we're about to make history….. change"
****** Even if you see `em coming, you're not ready for the big moments.*****
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