Kindred Series

Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.






¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
BOOK ONE
JOURNALS & JOURNEYS
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨





Chapter Twelve
Through the Glass Darkly

---

Day 67

…It’s all about choices, innit? Decisions we make that bloody well affect the way our lives or un-lives, as the case may be, turn out. We all have reasons for the soddin’ decisions we make, even if we’re not totally aware of them at the time. But there’s a reason you choose the chicken cacciatore over the shrimp scampi. Maybe it’s because you were in the mood for chicken that night, maybe you’re allergic to shellfish, whatever – still a reason for your choice. I doubt anyone’s aware enough to realize the reasons behind all the bloody decisions we make each day. Lots o’ decisions made on instinct or emotion, no real thought behind them. Usually it’s just the big decisions that we worry about, reason out, dwell on, and rationalize. And even then you usually can’t see the truth behind those reasons until much farther down the road. Most of us don’t want to know the truth…we’d rather hide behind the reasons we’ve told ourselves, even when we know that we’re well and buggered already.

Well, that stops now for me. I’m bloody shot of hiding behind half-truths and excuses and rationalizations. I’ve made a lot of bad decisions and in the end I can honestly say that regardless of the reason, the truth behind that was my own selfishness. I chose to let Dru turn me – didn’t even try to fight it. Sure she was stronger ‘n me and I probably wouldn’t have gotten away, but I didn’t even try because I bloody well wanted what she was offering. I didn’t know exactly what that was, but to me it meant acceptance, by a beautiful woman no less, and I selfishly grabbed hold, not once stopping to consider any possible consequences. Killing Slayers – that was all about glory and reputation and proving myself to Angelus, Dru and even Darla. Again a conscious choice made for selfish reasons. Performing the ritual to heal Dru with Angel’s blood – sure I loved her and didn’t want her to suffer, but that ritual was so I wouldn’t lose her and be alone. Selfish choices, every one, made based on what I wanted. Giles made me an offer once… He suggested that maybe my chip was a chance from the Powers that I could use to make a difference. I could have considered this or at least listened to him, but I didn’t want to be bothered because I was too selfish to consider using m’ time to help others. Even killin’ demons and patrolling have been to satisfy m’ demon’s need for violence. I never thought about any people might ‘ve been saved cause a demon was no longer a threat to ‘em.

I don’t think I’ve made any decisions since I was turned that were based on unselfish motivation until the past year or so, and even then the only ones I can in good conscience claim as mostly unselfish are those related directly to either Joyce or Niblet in some way or t’other. Any decisions made regarding Buffy may have been decent on occasion, but there was always a thought in the back of m’ head about how it would affect me. Didn’t want her datin’ no one but me, didn’t want her dyin’ and leavin’ me, didn’t want her usin’ me for sex – wanted love, but was still willin’ to settle for sex so long as I was getting’ somethin’ out of it. Bloody hell, but I make myself sick. Problem with all this is if I choose to just wallow in these realizations and mistakes from my past, then I’m still bein’ selfish. Focused inward and all that rot. Never mind that I’d be thoroughly buggered right now if I hadn’t taken the time to work through some of this. It’s been over 2 months and it’s about time I started thinkin’ about movin’ on.

I’ll sure hate to leave Ruth & Mitchell though… Although that’s kind of selfish of me too, isn’t it? Because they’ve been so good to me, and no one’s ever treated me as well as they have, and I’ve felt safe here, and I’ll miss them. Arghh!! I’ll go bug-shaggin’ crazy if I don’t stop thinkin’ like this. It’s got to be okay to be selfish sometimes! And I think I’m okay with bein’ selfish in this case, because I genuinely like these people. They’re the kind of people that I could learn somethin’ from. They’re good people and generous by nature, givin’ to poor sods like m’self that don’t deserve another chance. Well, they gave me that ‘n’ more. Time for me to show them that I wasn’t a waste of time and effort. Time for me to show everyone what I’ve learned and how I’ve changed.


Day 69

…Been talkin’ to Ruth ‘n’ Mitchell ‘bout leavin’ and what comes next for me. I can’t ignore the dreams, which are comin’ almost every night now. I know in my heart that Dawn is in danger, so Sunnydale is my destination. But I’ve got a few stops to make first, some scores to clear before I c’n get on with m’ life. Mitchell promised to get me whatever I needed in the way of supplies for my trip, and also that he and Ruth would be thinkin’ of me and prayin’ for me as I face the days ahead. Wonder who they pray to? Never really asked ‘em about it, never thought about it before now. With all they know and all they’ve been exposed to, do they prefer the Christian God, the Powers That Be, or some other unknown deity? Do prayers go into a void in the ether if they’re not directed at a potent entity? Maybe it doesn’t matter who you pray to as long as you’ve got faith. Maybe none of it matters, but I’m suddenly thinkin’ about this and wonderin’ who I could pray to for help. ‘Cause I’m gonna need all the bloody help I can get. But who answers the prayers of the likes of me?


Day 78

Well, it’s almost time to leave the place that’s become my home these past couple months. Ruth & Mitchell are family to me now, and as such they told me there’d always be a spot for me with them. That’s a heart warmin’ thought, that is. I don’t want to leave, but I know I need to do so. I’ve been havin’ an odd dream the past few nights and it’s always the same. A woman is beckoning me to follow her down a dimly lit path, and although I can’t see the way clearly, I know that she can and she won’t lead me astray. Her face is hidden in shadow when she looks back at me, but she is familiar. I know her from somewhere, but I can’t place it. And I can’t catch up with her no matter how fast I run. But still I catch glimpses of her ahead of me on the trail and still she beckons me to continue on the path I’m treading. Is this metaphorical? Perhaps prophetical? Nonsensical, maybe? I don’t know, but each night I have this dream. And each day I awaken a little bit more ready to leave, a little bit more ready to face what comes next. So, maybe it’s just my subconscious at work in this dream… But I can’t shake the feelin’ that there’s somethin’ familiar about this woman in my dream. If I could just bloody well figure it out, I think I’d have some answers…


Day 92

Ruth and Mitchell are dead! That hurts me more ‘n I can say. It’s been over a week since I returned from a trip to town to find their bodies savaged by those Tertutio demon buggers. I wasn’t there to protect them and they’re gone now. And sure I had no bloody way in the world of knowin’ what would happen when I went to buy m’ train ticket. Could just ‘s easily ‘ve happened after I left. I know that, but knowin’ it doesn’t make me feel any better. How can somethin’ so horrible happen to such wonderful people? They were tortured, for cripes sake. No dignity in that and certainly no mercy from those soddin buggers. Wish I had some more of ‘em to kill right now. I’m angrier than I c’n recall ever bein’ before. I get so mad at the injustice. Funny, innit? Me talkin’ about injustice. Given my history, that’s a bit of a lark. ‘Kay, calm down. That hysterical giggle drew some attention from the nearest passengers on the plane. I don’t need anyone askin’ me if everythin’s okay right now. My answer just might blow their mind. Great, just great. Now I’ve got mental images of explodin’ heads and I’m wonderin’ if that would have enough force to bust a window and depressurize the cabin. Be a shame to die in a crash on m’ first flight sittin’ in a seat lookin’ out the window at the sun. Bloody hell, but I’m miserable right now. Maybe some J.D. would help. He’s never failed me before now. Where’s that stewardess or flight attendant or whatever they’re called these days…

I have actual food for thought, and that’s much tastier ‘n the crap they serve on these flights. Seriously, this woman in the aisle across from me started talkin’ somewhere after the 4th shot of Jack and I guess I’d had enough to hold a conversation, p’rhaps not too coherently, but still. Anyway, she turned out to be a shrink and got me to tell ‘er about losin’ my friends. And then I started talkin’ ‘bout my feelin’s like some nancy-boy! There are some aspects of havin’ a soul that make me sick for reasons entirely separate from the guilt. Loss of any machismo I ever had in moments like these…definitely at the top of that list! So, anyway, Shrinkin’ Violet there tells me that I’m grievin’ and proceeds to explain the stages of grief to me. Never knew about those ‘fore now. ‘Parently I’m hoverin’ around Anger, with still a touch of Denial. Don’t know about this Bargaining business though. Not too sure I take any truck with that. Can’t get ‘em back, burned the bodies m’self, so what kind of bargains am I supposed to try ‘n’ make? And who has time to be Depressed? I’ve got things to accomplish and loved ones – er, one, anyway – to save. Lil Bit’s safety trumps any emotions I need to sort through still. So sod this psychobabble bullshit. Ill just have to jump straight to the Acceptance portion of this so-called process. Thanks to Ruth and Mitchell, I’m stronger ‘cause of them. I’m not sure I’m a better man yet, but I want to be and I’m workin’ toward that. And I’m better prepared to handle things. But I still feel very alone now that they’re gone. Oh, bloody bugger me upside down and six ways from Sunday! Isolation went hand-in-hand with the Denial stage. Maybe there’s somethin’ to this grief process after all. Where’d Shrinkin’ Violet get to? I need another drink and maybe some tips on how to deal with this.


Day 110

Haven’t had much time to write lately. Got back to the States and returned to Sunnyhell to find things gone to pot. Found an unlikely ally in ol’ Rupert and we’ve had our hands full figurin’ out what’s happenin’ with Red. Couldn’t get much worse than what we learned. Seems a shame to gain life and immediately lose it. It looks like it’s comin’ up on the end for me. Or at least the end of my time in this dimension. ‘Cordin’ to that prophecy, I’m not gonna return from this little junket. Maybe, maybe not. Don’t rightly care s’long as Niblet gets home okay. Don’t know why I won’t be able to return, prophecy doesn’t say. Giles surely believes it’s true though, so I guess I should, too. Maybe I’ll die. Maybe I’ll end up getting’ sucked into some hellhole for eternity. Don’t really have time to worry ‘bout it right now. Too busy getting things in order before the ritual. Me ‘n’ Giles ‘n’ the Magnificent Poof have been over the plan countless times, but if we don’t get this right then we’re well and buggered, and I can’t let that happen. Maybe I’d best go over it again.

---

Angel, if you’re readin’ my journal, you’re not just a Poofter, you’re also a bloody insufferable Wanker for doin’ so. Stop usin’ all that hair gel and your forehead won’t stick out so much. (And promise to take care of m’ girls after I’m gone, ‘kay?)

And if anyone else is readin’ this, please don’t think too badly of me in the end. I’m just a flawed man who’s made too many mistakes to count. Hopefully forgiveness exists somewhere for the likes of me. Guess I’ll find out soon enough.

---

TBC