An
Unaccomplished Fate
Author: enigmaticblue
Rating: PG-15
Disclaimer: I don’t own most of these characters, and I’m not making any money off of the ones that are mine.
Summary: The sequel to Avocation and Under the Sun. Spike and Buffy’s relationship is on solid ground at last, but a new prophecy threatens everything they hold dear. The bonds of family and friendship will be tested, lives will be threatened, and the entire world will hang on the choice of one vampire.
A/N: Any resemblance to canon is pretty
much
accidental.
Chapter 25
“Because I do not hope to turn
again/Because I do not hope/Because I do not hope to turn/Desiring this
man’s
gift and that man’s scope/I no longer strive to strive towards such
things/(Why
should the agèd eagle stretch its wings?)/Why should I mourn/The
vanished power
of the usual reign…Because I know that time is always time/And place is
always
and only place/And what is actual is actual only for one time/And only
for one
place/I rejoice that things are as they are and/I renounce the
blessèd face/And
renounce the voice/Because I cannot hope to turn again/Consequently I
rejoice,
having to construct something/Upon which to rejoice/And pray to God to
have mercy
on us…” ~T.S. Eliot, “Ash Wednesday”
“We
have a meeting set up,” Wesley confirmed. “In a few hours. We’ll have
dinner
with my parents, and I’ll try to find a way to get him alone.”
“Are
you going to try convincing him that you want back in to the Council?”
Spike
asked.
“I
don’t think that’s even a possibility.” Wesley rubbed his forehead
wearily.
“He’ll demand that I cut ties with you.”
“So
tell him you will, tell him we had a fight.”
“He’s
not going to believe me, Spike.”
“He
will if you sell it.”
“Spike—”
Willow
came up beside him and pulled the phone out of his hand. “Hey, Spike.”
Wesley
couldn’t hear Spike’s response, and he collapsed on the bed. After
telling
Willow what his father had done to him, he hadn’t been able to sleep.
It was
like opening a door that he’d slammed shut and locked a long time ago.
When
Willow hung up the phone, she turned to Wesley. “I’m going to arrange a
meeting
with your father myself,” she announced. “You’ll need to keep your mom
entertained while we speak privately tonight.”
“What?”
Wesley sat up straight. “Why?”
She
ran a hand over his cheek. “Because your parents know you, and they’ll
know if
you’re lying. They don’t know me, and I don’t care what they think of
me. You
still do.”
He
hated to admit it, but she was right. “And Tara?”
“She’ll
back me up. Your dad won’t recognize her. I was thinking maybe we could
convince him to meet us in the café downstairs, and when he gets
woozy, we’ll
invite him upstairs until it passes.”
“And
why would he be woozy?
“Because
either I’ll slip something in his tea, or Tara will cast a spell,
whichever
works better at the time.”
Wesley
frowned. “So, you have your plan all set?”
“Do
you have a better one?”
He put
his head in his hands. “No.”
“There’s
nothing to be ashamed of, Wes. That’s why we’re here, to take some of
the
burden.”
“You
have to carry my weight now?” Wesley asked, angry. “That bastard stole
my
childhood from me, and now he’s robbing me of my revenge?”
“This
isn’t about revenge.”
“It is
for me.” The confession felt as though it had been ripped out of his
lips.
“Bloody hell.”
Willow
snaked an arm around his waist. “I knew that.”
“I
can’t forgive him for what he did to me.”
“Neither
can I.” Willow rose, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I need to get
changed,
and Tara’s going to be here in a few minutes.”
Wesley
nodded, feeling helpless as he always did when faced with his father.
He had
hoped that this trip would alleviate that; by getting some of his own
back,
subjecting his father to a taste of his own medicine, he would be able
to move
on from that period of his life.
And
yet he felt himself balking now, refusing to do what it took to make
this plan
work. Willow had to be the one to step up to the plate. The
self-loathing rose
up and nearly choked him. He was a coward, and his father had been
right about
him.
Wesley
just wished that it was over and done, and he could put it all behind
him.
~~~~~
“Here’s
one,” Quinn announced, tossing a book on the “keep” pile. “Looks like
there’s
something in there about creating serious weaponry, anyway.”
Buffy
sighed as she shut her book. “Nothing in that one. When was Willow
going to
call?”
“They
know to call here, Buffy,” Spike said soothingly. “We just have to
wait.
They’re seven hours ahead.”
Buffy
hated being patient at the best of times, and this wasn’t the best of
times.
“What if the truth spell doesn’t work? Or they get caught? We’re not
there to
back them up.”
“It
had to happen sometime.” Spike’s total reasonableness was pissing her
off.
“Let’s focus on finding something that’s going to help us create a
weapon to
kill Glory. We have an appointment with Robert tomorrow.”
“I
don’t like leaving town with Glory running around,” Buffy grumbled.
Quinn
cleared her throat. “I’ll be here.”
Buffy
winced. “I’m sorry, Quinn. I shouldn’t have—”
“I’m
not a vampire, and I’m not a Slayer,” she said. “I get it.”
“No,
really, I’m glad you’re sticking around. I wouldn’t have agreed to
leave
otherwise.” Buffy smiled, then slammed her book closed. “This isn’t
working,
Spike. We’re not going to find the solution here.”
Spike
gave her a look that told Buffy he was nearly out of patience himself.
“Then
why don’t you take Quinn, and you can burn off some energy. I’ll stay
here.”
She
looked at the Watcher, who shrugged. “Yeah, sure. More looking through
books
will probably make my head explode.”
They
were out the door in five minutes, and Buffy heaved a huge sigh of
relief. The
books weren’t taking her mind off of her worry, but a trip to the mall
might.
“We’re
going shopping?” Quinn objected. “Shouldn’t we be doing
something—productive?”
Buffy
flashed her a grin. “This is productive. First, Mom and Giles are at
work,
Tommy is at daycare, and Dawn is at school. Second, I’ve caught a few
enterprising vampires at the mall during daylight hours.”
“Both
very fair points,” Quinn admitted. “And you need to get your mind off
of
things.”
“I do.
I know it’s stupid, and Willow and the others are more than capable,
it’s
just—”
“You’re
the Slayer, and you want to be where the action is. I get that.”
Buffy
suddenly remembered that Quinn had been a potential. “Do you wish it
had been
you and not your sister?”
Quinn
blinked. “You don’t pull your punches, do you?”
“Sometimes
I do, sometimes I don’t.” Buffy glanced over at her. “You have to know
that I
didn’t trust you.”
“But
you do now?”
“You’ve
proven yourself.” She smiled. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Quinn
ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah, I do wish it had been me. Brynn
wanted to
be a vet, you know? She loves animals of all kinds, and she was already
getting
tired of the demon stuff.”
“Tell
me about it,” Buffy murmured, remembering her initial reaction to Giles
and his
insistence that she had a duty to perform. “I had no idea about being
the
Slayer until Merrick showed up.”
“You
didn’t have any training before you were Called?”
“I had
no idea. One day, when I was fifteen, Merrick just shows up out of
nowhere,
tells me I’m the Slayer, and I have a destiny.” Buffy sniffed. “I hate
destiny.”
“I
don’t blame you.”
Buffy
glanced at her. “How do you feel about shoes?”
Quinn
raised a dark eyebrow, then smiled. “I have very positive feelings
about
shoes.”
~~~~~
Willow
forced herself to eat as though nothing was wrong, as though she wasn’t
nervous
as all hell. She had to somehow convince Roger Wyndam-Pryce that she
wasn’t
content in Sunnydale, and that she thought it would be better for
Wesley to go
back to the Council.
She
had never been good at lying, but Wesley needed her to do this.
Wesley
was engaging his mother in conversation at the moment, making her laugh
at some
story he’d told. Willow had caught enough to know that he was spinning
a story
that had nothing to do with any touchy subjects, like Spike or Buffy.
“I
wanted to talk to you,” she said to Roger in a low voice.
“About
what?” He matched her tone, leaning in closer.
Willow
schooled her expression into one of annoyance. “It’s about Wesley. I’m
tired of
him always rushing into danger, but he doesn’t think that he has
another
choice. If he could get his job back with the Council, I could get out
of
Sunnydale, and I could stop worrying about him. A researcher’s
position,
perhaps?”
Roger’s
expression sharpened, and Willow could see the avarice in his eyes.
“And what
would you give me in exchange?”
“I
think I know where Buffy put the Key.” Willow swallowed the bile that
rose at
the thought of betraying her friend. “I can tell you where it is.” She
smiled.
“But not here.”
“Of
course.”
“There’s
a café in the hotel. Shall we meet there at seven tomorrow
morning?”
He
nodded. “I’ll see you then.”
Willow
met Wesley’s eyes across the table. He patted his mother’s hand. “I
think we
should be going. Willow had some sightseeing that she wanted to do
tomorrow.”
She
knew the signal for what it was. Willow still needed to work out the
sleeping
draught with Tara, the one that would go into Roger’s tea, and they
needed to
be sure they had both the truth spell and the spell of forgetting ready
to go.
If Tara hadn’t been able to find the Lethe’s bramble they needed, they
would
have to do a search themselves, after Wesley’s parents had gone.
And
they still needed to call Spike and give him an update.
“I’m
still jetlagged.” This wasn’t a lie, and she knew that she looked
tired, which
gave verisimilitude to her statement.
They
said their goodbyes. Willow shook hands with Roger and kissed Rose on
the
cheek, feeling soft skin and noting faded blue eyes that probably been
as
bright as Wesley’s once upon a time. She kept the smile on her face
steady with
some effort as they welcomed her into the family with varying degrees
of
sincerity.
Something
in Roger’s face told Willow that he was still suspicious of their
motives, and
might be expecting a trick. She would have to be very cautious at the
meeting,
but that was what Tara was there for—so she could have backup not
easily
recognizable by Roger.
~~~~~
Tara
thought that she’d probably had the best deal of the three of them.
While
Willow and Wesley had been stuck meeting with those people Wesley had
judged
most interested in knowing he was engaged, she had been free to explore
London.
No one was supposed to know that she was there with the two of them,
and so
Wesley had given her some tips on the best places to go as a tourist,
and Tara
had spent two days exploring London.
A year
ago, Tara wouldn’t have been brave enough to go by herself, never mind
that
she’d moved across the country to escape her family. That had been a
move of
desperation; this was pure pleasure.
She’d
nearly worn her shoes out, traveling all over the city, seeing the
sights that
Wesley had recommended, collecting the ingredients they needed for the
truth
spell and memory spell.
And
now she was going to head back to the hotel to soak in a hot bath with
room
service. Tara was loving this trip, but it was about to get a lot more
serious.
When
she opened her door, Willow was waiting for her, sitting on the single
bed with
her legs crossed and her laptop open in front of her. “How was dinner?”
Tara
asked, immediately concerned.
Willow
shrugged. “It went as well as can be expected. I gave Wesley some of
that tea
to help him sleep. He was pretty wound up.”
Tara
winced in sympathy. “Families can do that to you. Are we prepared for
tomorrow?”
“We
have an early meeting,” she confirmed. “I think that Roger might
suspect
something.”
Tara
plopped down on the bed next to Willow, considering their options. “I’m
assuming that you don’t want to call it off.”
“We
can’t. We’re too far into it.”
Tara
grabbed the tote bag with her mother’s books. There were a lot of
spells she’d
found in there that she hadn’t seen referenced anywhere else. “Here. I
can do a
spell to make him more receptive, more pliable. That will work better,
I think,
given what you’ve told me about him. From there, we get him upstairs
and do the
truth spell, then we do the memory spell.”
Willow
raised her eyebrows. “Do you think we could maybe turn him into a toad
when
this is all over?”
“The
Council would come looking for him,” Tara said practically. “This plan
is only
going to be successful if they don’t find out what we did.”
Willow
let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. Be practical.”
“Did
Wes tell you about what his dad did to him?”
Hurt
flashed across Willow’s face. “You knew?”
“I
guessed,” Tara corrected her. “We talked about fathers long before mine
actually showed up in Sunnydale, and he’s said a few other things that
gave me
a pretty good idea of what went on.”
“I
knew it was bad,” Willow said quietly. “But not how bad. He shut Wesley
in a
closet. For three days.”
Their
eyes met, and Tara put an arm around Willow’s shoulders. “It sucks to
watch the
people you love hurting.”
“Tomorrow
isn’t going to be easy.”
Tara
shook her head. “No, it won’t.”
~~~~~
Wesley
paced the length of the room nervously. Whatever Willow had given him
to help
him sleep the night before had prevented the nightmares he’d expected
after
seeing his father. He hated that Willow was meeting with Roger alone,
however,
and he hated the fact that Tara was the one to play backup.
But if
he went down to the café, it would give the game away.
Glancing
at the clock, which read half past seven, Wesley ran through the plan
in his
head once again. Willow would meet with Roger to try and sell him on
how much
she wanted Wesley to get his position with the Council back because she
wanted
out of Sunnydale, and that she wanted him out of the line of fire. That
story
would fit nicely with his father’s vision of him as a bumbling idiot.
Once
Willow had him on the hook, Tara would do her spell, and they would
bring Roger
upstairs, where he had the truth spell ready. It was a piece of cake,
as Willow
often said.
He
just wanted this over with already.
A
brief knock came on the door, and Wesley quickly opened it. “Come in.”
Willow
and Tara entered sideways, supporting Roger’s weight between them. “Is
everything
okay?”
“Your
fiancée wants me to offer you a job,” Roger replied jovially. “A
researcher’s
position, which would suit you. You might not be good at much else, but
you’re
a competent researcher.”
Wesley
winced at the backhanded compliment, thinking that it was possibly the
nicest
thing his father had ever said to him. “I don’t want a researcher’s
position,”
he replied, watching as Tara and Willow sat him down in one of the two
straight-backed chairs in the room. “I’m happy in Sunnydale.”
“With
that vampire?” Roger scoffed. “Fighting demons? You’re nothing more
than a
burden there, Wesley. It’s time to grow up.”
Tara
spoke two quiet words that Wesley didn’t quite catch, and Roger slumped
sideways. “I’m sorry, Wesley,” she said. “I should have performed the
spell
faster.”
“It’s
not your fault.” He forced a smile. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard
before.”
Wesley regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, as both Tara
and
Willow had identical pitying expressions.
Wesley
grabbed the handcuffs to secure his father to the chair. “Never mind.
What did
you do to him?”
“We
basically made him drunk,” Willow admitted. “We thought it would make
him
easier to deal with.
“Do
you want one of us to do the truth spell?” Tara asked.
Wesley
shook his head. “No. I want to do this.”
“He’s
all yours,” Tara said. “I’ll wake him when you’re ready.”
He had
performed a truth spell before, and while under more pressure—at least
in
theory. For the moment, Wesley tried to forget that he was facing his
father.
The
words came easily, and when the spell was in place, he nodded to Tara,
and she
took the sleep spell off. When Roger opened his eyes, Wesley could see
that
whatever magic Tara had worked to make his father more amiable was
gone.
Roger’s eyes were hot with a hatred Wesley had never seen aimed at him
as his
father tested his bonds.
“What
have you done, Wesley?”
“I’m
giving you a taste of your own medicine, Dad.”
Wesley spat the word out. “Were you involved in putting the geas on
Spike?”
“Yes.”
The surprise showed on Roger’s face immediately after he answered the
question.
“What have you done?”
“You
have to tell the truth.” Wesley smiled cruelly. “And I’ve made it
slightly
easier for you.”
“Wesley—”
“What
do you want with the Key?” Wesley asked before Roger could finish his
question.
Roger
glared impotently, and the realization that his father was at his mercy
filled
Wesley with a cold satisfaction. “There is power there. We want it.”
“Why?
What can you do with it?”
“We
can control worlds.”
“What
do you mean by that?” Wesley pressed.
“The
blood of the Key can open doors to other dimensions.”
“Do
you want to expand your base of power?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Other
organizations have done so.”
“Is
there another reason?”
“We
would no longer need the Slayer.”
That
was the bombshell that Wesley had been waiting for. He knew that there
had to
be more to it than just power—the Council already had plenty of that.
Wesley had been certain that the Council had a bigger goal.
“What
is the Council without the Slayer?” It was a rhetorical question to
which
Wesley wasn’t expecting an answer.
Roger
offered a thin smile. “We are free of the constraints training and
shepherding
headstrong brats requires.”
Wesley
swallowed his anger, seeing Willow and Tara do the same. “And the
Knights?”
“A
tool for our use.”
“To
what end?”
“They
will keep the Slayer busy, or find the Key for us.”
“And
what other tools do you have in your arsenal?” Wesley asked.
Roger’s
eyes glowed with an unholy fire. “We have sent our best fixers.”
Wesley
glanced at Tara and Willow to see if they had any questions, but both
women
shook their heads. “Were you ever proud of me?” Wesley blurted out,
unable to
resist the urge to ask a question he’d had since he was very young.
“Not
since the day you were born.”
Wesley
felt the words as a blow, and he hissed out a breath. Tara whispered
the words
that would put Roger to sleep. “That’s enough.”
Willow
put her arms around him, offering comfort, but Wesley felt numb,
unreachable.
“Wesley—”
she began.
He cut
her off. “I don’t have a father.” Meeting Tara’s eyes with difficulty,
he
asked, “Can you handle the memory spell?”
“We’ll
take care of it, Wesley,” she promised.