She pulled the stake back and waited for him to turn to dust. Angel’s body stopped twisting in pain and Buffy lingered, staring. He lay on the ground, limp, eyes closed.

His body remained.

Backing up slowly, she looked down at the bloodied form of Angelus. All comprehension left her. Stumbling, she tried to make her way out of the circle but the force field held her inside her group of friends. She spun, searching in vain for a way out, her mind reeling, numb.

Dumbly she stopped and stood, trapped. Turning, she looked back at Angel, lying on the ground, dead. Finally she walked calmly back to him and knelt at his side. She lifted his head and cradled it in her lap, stroking his hair. She began to rock, the bob and weave motion of a person in severe shock. She wanted to cry but no tears fell. She wanted to scream but her voice would not work.

Minutes passed. She continued to rock, to stroke his face, feel the growing coolness in his lifeless body.

“Congratulations,” a voice said behind her. The sound pierced her narcosis and she turned to find the source of the words. Behind her stood Jenny Calendar.

Buffy stared at her. “Wha…?”

“It’s time,” Jenny said, lovingly. Buffy stared at her mutely. Jenny opened her hand to reveal an Orb of Thessula. “Disperta! Acum!” she shouted. Buffy’s gaze shifted to the crystal globe. Light began to fill it. Stronger and stronger, the light grew bright, casting an eerie glow around its holder. The light began to travel in a fluid stream towards where Buffy sat.

Suddenly beneath her, Angel stirred. He jolted awake and began thrashing, a low mewling sound emitting from him. The mewling became cries of agony as the light from the Orb touched him. His body lifted off the ground, held him in midair. The light surrounded him, rushing over and around his body. Buffy sprang to her feet and backed up. She reached her hand out to Angel, to help him, but Jenny stopped her. “Not yet,” she said.

Angel was suspended in air, the light wrapping around him time after time until she could barely make out his form. And then the screaming subsided. The light began to dim and his body lowered. He touched down on the ground and lay, curled up, shivering. Buffy glanced at Jenny and ran to him. She threw herself on the ground and wrapped her arms around his shaking body. “Angel?” she whispered.

With the sound of her voice Angel jerked and looked up at her. “Buffy?” he asked hoarsely.

Tears streamed down her face. Angel slowly pushed himself up and sat, staring at her wondrously. His hands reached for her face, touched. His fingers ran over her cheeks, making sure she was real.

“Are you okay?” he asked her sincerely. “You were going to let him kill you?”

She looked sheepish. “I was hoping that would get through to you. Lucky for me…”

He pulled her to him suddenly, gripping her body to his as tears silently fell down his cheeks. Her eyes closed and she turned her head, nestling herself to his chest when she heard the most glorious sound.

"Angel..." she gasped, pushing back. "Your heart..."

He stared at her for a moment before realizing what she was talking about. Wonderously Buffy took his hand in hers and pressed it to his chest. "It's beating," she whispered joyously.

Stunned, he stared at his hand wrapped in hers as they shared in the feeling of his beating heart. "How...?" He then noticed their audience. “You…” he said to Jenny.

“Me,” she replied, her voice tender.

“The Rumani…”

“We have righted the way of things,” Jenny said. Angel rose unsteadily, pulling Buffy up with him. She put an arm around his waist, supporting him though she was as shaky as he was.

“Why?” Angel asked, his breath coming more slowly now.

Jenny smiled at them. “This is how it should be,” she said. “You killed me, when you were meant to save me. My father could not give you death, the Powers forbade it, the prophesy needed to be fulfilled. So they did the next best thing. They restored your soul.”

Angel looked confused. “Save you? Your father?” he asked weakly, confused.

“Death is not the end of a soul, Angelus. You should know that. When you killed me, the favorite daughter of the clan, you altered destiny. You were to be the one to save me that night.”

“Favorite dau…” Realization dawned. “You’re the girl, the gypsy girl, the daughter I fed from the night my soul was restored.”

Buffy, quiet all this time, spoke. “You were reincarnated,” she said.

Jenny nodded. “I was sent here, after the way was changed, to make sure that Angel was redeemed by stopping Acathla. I failed. And Angel killed me for a second time. But you’re too important,” she said, walking to them, “you had to be given the opportunity to overcome your demon.”

“Important? Why?” he asked, standing on his own now.

Jenny smiled again. “Because you’re the Champion. And you are the Chosen. They are one and the same, in both of you. You are two halves of a soul that have once again found each other. Together you will save the world,” she said simply. “When you were born, Liam…Angel,” she corrected, “you were destined to be the Champion to lead the fight against all evil. You would fight for a thousand years until the End of Days was over. You’re the key to making sure that the good guys win. You both are, I should say.”

Angel and Buffy exchanged glances, not entirely sure of what they were hearing.

“Buffy, the Chosen, is your other half. Together you will be unstoppable, though the battle will be long and hard. Together, the Ten are sure to win.”

They looked around at their friends, still immobile, deeply locked in the trance. “The Ten? We’re all needed, together?” Angel asked.

“It is time,” Jenny said again. “Take what you need from the eight.” She held the Orb before her and again shouted, “Mirante…secumin…acum!”

The Orb began to glow and laced shafts of light around Willow. Willow blinked her eyes and stepped forward to Angel. She smiled. “I bring the magic. Do not ignore the dark power, instead, find in it an ally. Let the mystical forces be your servant,” she said, and stepped back in place.

The light moved to Oz. As Willow had, he blinked, coming out of the trance, and stepped forward. “I bring the animal, cunning and swift. Let instinct and prowess be your servant.”

Cordelia was next. She stepped forward and touched Angel’s cheek. “I bring the sight. May your eyes be open to the future and may you not be blinded to your enemies. Let vision be your servant.”

The light moved to Gunn. “I bring the weapon. Strength will be on your side. Let your strikes be swift and true and may the sword be your servant.”

Giles stepped forward. “I bring intelligence. A true warrior must be more clever than his opponent, and smart enough to realize his limitations and weaknesses. Let wisdom and knowledge be your servant.”

Light swirled around Wesley and he walked to Angel. “I bring guidance. Let your heart and your mind work together for the greater good. Let nobility be your servant.”

Anya followed him. “I bring the saint. Your beliefs are tools, they guide you. Do not want, the way will always be found. Have faith. Let sacrifice be your servant.”

Finally, the light moved to Xander. He moved to Angel and smiled his sheepish Xander-smile. “I bring the heart,” he said simply. “For without heart everything else is without meaning. Heart is what guides all the rest, is what has led you to where you are today. Let passion be your servant.”

He stepped back and the light moved to Angel. This time, however, it did not bring pain. It filled him, consumed and gave of him. He glowed, light splaying from his fingertips. And as quickly as it began, it was over.

“It is righted,” Jenny said.

“I'm human…” Angel said, a look of joy coming over his face. He turned to Buffy and took her hand. She weaved unsteadily on her feet and he caught her with both arms, holding her close to him as she wept.

“With the gifts from your friends you are restored,” Jenny said. “You are now bound to your destiny. To fight for the greater good.”

Angel looked up at her suddenly. “But, how? I’m no match for anything now.”

Jenny smiled and shook her head. “Wrong. You have their gifts. You are magic and animal, spiritual and strong. You are sensible and perceptive, you are intelligent and true. You are noble and swift. You are the Champion, as you were to always be.”

She turned to Buffy. “The Chosen already possesses these things. Now, so does he.”

They stood in the circle, absorbing the shock of her words, of the events that had unfolded. Angel turned to Buffy, stunned. He held up his hand, turned it from front to back, marveling. She reached up and took it, held in with her own, and kissed it. His other hand stroked her cheek and for the first time she felt his warmth.

“Unbelievable,” she whispered.

“Yeah…” he said softly.

She looked up into his eyes, wiped a streak of blood from his face. “Are you okay?” she asked.

He gave a short laugh. “You could say that.”

They turned back to Jenny. She was smiling at them.

“Thank you,” Angel said, weakly. “That doesn’t even begin to express it, but…thanks.”

“Ms. Calendar…Jenny…why us?” Buffy asked.

Jenny smiled again. “Since the beginning of the mortal world, when demons began to get pushed down, sent back to Hell to make way for the dominance of Man, it has been said that ten warriors would join together and lead the fight to keep them there.” She shrugged. “You are The Ten. Although it’s taken several hundred years for you all to finally find each other.”

Confusion clouded Buffy's face. "What do you mean, hundreds of years?"

“For hundreds of years your souls have been seeking each other out, trying to get everyone together. But then Darla changed Angel and his soul was lost. Your souls,” she said to Buffy, then indicating their friends, “couldn’t find his because it wasn’t there anymore.”

“I don’t understand…you mean our souls have been searching for hundreds of years for each other?” Buffy asked.

Jenny nodded. “You said it earlier. Reincarnation. Souls don’t leave this earth until their destinies are fulfilled. The ten of you have been born and reborn countless times while you sought each other out. When Angel was turned his soul was lost. It made it impossible for all ten of you to find each other, though at one time we had seven.”

“Past lives?” Buffy asked, not sure if she believed what she was hearing. “We’ve all known each other before?”

Jenny nodded. “In one form or another.”

“So if I hadn’t been changed, if I had never met Darla, The Ten would have formed over 250 years ago?” Angel asked.

Jenny shrugged. “Probably not right away. It might have taken many more years for you all to wind your ways to each other. But it would have been easier. We restored your soul to help them find you.”

A voice came from behind her. “You didn’t make it any easier on us. Seclusion, isolation. Really, the hermit thing only works for Quasimodo.” Whistler stepped out from behind Jenny. “So they sent me in to help you on your way. God, did you really screw things up.”

Jenny chimed in again. “We thought, when you and Angel became involved, Buffy, and when Wesley arrived in Sunnydale, that it was about to happen. The only thing missing was The Weapon...Gunn. And he was on his way.”

“But leave it up to you two. The love-in ensues and destiny gets altered once again. Ah, well. You’ve kept a guy in a job, I can say that,” Whistler said.

“And you were going to recurse me until I killed you,” Angel finished, staring at Jenny.

Jenny nodded. “So Willow did it for me. She’s come such a long way…more powerful than I ever was.”

“But it’s a funny thing about souls. They have no sense of direction, short attention spans. You losing your soul again, even for just a little while, sent everything all willy-nilly. You left, though everything inside you told you it was wrong,” Whistler said, looking at Angel pointedly, “and our the prom queen and the Brit followed you. At least you all stayed together this time.”

“And there you found Gunn,” Doyle said, from behind them. “And me, I might add.”

Buffy and Angel whirled around to face him. “Doyle,” Angel said softly, happily.

Doyle stepped up to Angel and embraced him, smiling. “Heros come in all different packages, my friend,” he said, holding Angel’s shoulders and looking him directly in the eye. “I mean, look at this motley crew. I was sent to watch you, help you figure things out, just like Whistler. And to make sure Cordy got the visions.” He let go of Angel and walked over to Cordelia, still staring ahead, blankly. “Ah, the fair Cordelia. Still hell on wheels, ain’t she?” he asked, glancing back at Angel, grinning.

Angel nodded. “But she’s different now…since you.”

Doyle’s eyes saddened slightly. “I loved you,” he told her softly. "Would have been interestin' to see us together, eh?." With a sad smirk he turned to Gunn. “Treat her like the queen she thinks she is,” he said to him and walked back to Buffy and Angel. “Anyway. It’s taken some time, but here we are.” He turned to Buffy. “And I have a gift for you, gorgeous.”

“A gift?” she asked.

“A memory,” he told her, and touched her forehead. The memory of that day, the day Angel’s humanity was restored, flooded her brain. A demon…mixing blood…a kiss on a pier, passionate love in his kitchen, a broken table…peanut butter, ice cream, more love…and a fight, Angel…almost killed…she saved him… What happens to the Slayer? What happens to all mortal beings…albeit sooner for her. He asks for his life to be taken back so that she may live. A tearful, pain-filled goodbye…and a man with the only memory of that day.

Angel watched her as it hit her, the pain and the love. She turned to him, stunned. “I knew,” she told him slowly. “I knew there was something…missing…from me. That day, when I turned and left you in your office, it didn’t feel right. I--I didn't want to leave.”

He nodded sadly. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you. A thousand times I wanted to call you and make you believe that the Day had happened, that we could be together if we could just find a Morah demon. But I couldn't. The price was too much.”

Buffy stepped back, unsure if she was angry or more in love with him than ever. Possibly both. "You decided to do that without me. You didn't even ask me about it. We might have found a way."

"No," Doyle told her before Angel could answer. "Damn. I was hoping you'd just be touched and be all loved and whatnot. Now I've gotta do this." Without another word he reached up and touched his palms to the foreheads of both Buffy and Angel. A white flash blazed before their eyes before he released them and new sensations crept inside.

"What did you do?" Buffy gasped, stepping back to catch her breath. "I..." She looked up at Angel, stunned.

"It...hurts," Angel murmured, touching a hand to his chest.

Doyle nodded. "Yeah, I bet it does. The Powers aren't leaving any stone unturned with you two. That's how she feels, right now," he told Angel. "I'd imagine hurt, probably a little pissy that you didn't tell her about all this." He turned to Buffy. "And that's the grief he's kept inside him, from the moment the Day turned and you didn't remember to the--"

"I said I'd remember," she gasped. "I said I would, and I didn't." Her eyes closed as Angel's pain washed over her. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she whispered tearfully, coming to stand before him, taking his hands in hers.

Angel smiled down at her softly. "You weren't meant to," he reminded her. "And I'm sorry I didn't ask you about this. That I didn't trust you to make the right decision. I should have...I should have told you about all of this long ago," he stammered lamely. "I'm sorry."

She hugged him fiercely, touched. “Don’t be. I’m just now remembering. You’ve lived with this for a long time.” She pushed back from him. “How could you? Give that up, I mean.”

He shrugged, slightly embarrassed. “You needed to live.” She stared at him, love bright in her eyes, and nodded.

"I would have done the same," she told him, realizing it as she said the words.

“Well. As they say, our work here is done,” Jenny interrupted. “Finally, I made things right. Now...the rest is up to you. We've gotten way too involved with this as it is." Walking to Buffy she hugged the young woman and kissed both her cheeks, turning to Angel and doing the same. "Good luck to you both."

She smiled at them then turned slowly and walked to Giles. “See me,” she said to him, and he blinked suddenly, coming out of the trance.

“Jenny?” he whispered, unsure.

“Rupert…” she said lovingly.

“Jenny, is it really you?”

“It’s really me. But I’ve come to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye? Wait, I...”

“Shh…I know,” she said, placing a finger to his lips, “You’re happy now, I’ve been watching. I’m glad for you, Rupert, truly. But I couldn’t go without saying goodbye.”

“Go? Please, Jenny…”

“It’s okay,” she said tenderly, stroking the side of his face, “I’ve done what I was sent here for. But I never got to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“For loving me. For letting me love you.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he said hoarsely, emotion filling his throat.

“Don’t say anything…just, close your eyes.” He hesitated, then obliged her. She leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. When he opened them, she was gone.

Doyle hugged Angel and kissed Buffy on the forehead. “I wish I could stay,” he told them. “Bounce your kids on my knee and all that.” He looked at Giles, then to Cordelia. “I can’t do that, what the gypsy did. Tell Cordy…tell her I’m watching her. She’s doin’ good. I’m proud of her,” he murmured emotionally. Angel nodded.

“What do we do now?” Buffy asked.

Doyle grinned at her. “You’ll figure it out. There’s only so much we’re gonna do for you. Go with your instincts.”

“Come on, Irish,” Whistler said, slinging an arm around Doyle’s shoulders. “Let’s go get a drink.” With one last lingering glance, they turned and walked out of the circle, disappearing as Jenny had.

A powerful wind kicked up and one by one the group opened their eyes, free of the spell. Looking around, dazed, they found Buffy and Angel standing in the middle of them, their eyes locked. Sunlight filtered through the clouds, hit his skin. He grinned slowly. Smiling back she reached up and kissed him.

Willow and Cordelia exchanged happy glances. Xander was the last to wake up. He looked around blearily. “Did it work?”

Home
Back
Chapter Seventeen: Forever...That's the Whole Point