Snapshots of Eternity:
Chapter Nineteen: As You Were

Previously: Knowledge came to her as though some voice was whispering in her ear. It wasn’t supposed to go down this way. This was never supposed to happen. In that instant, she knew exactly what she had to do. Lowering her head and closing her eyes, the Key’s lips moved silently as the necessary words rolled off her tongue.

Outside the door to Bay Area Three, Private Nathanial O. Davitt grinned as his face became covered with heavy veins. With a soft chuckle, he rubbed at the small ring on his right middle finger.

“Wish granted.”



It had taken them all night to track the Glargle’m’gash’m’nak demon responsible for poisoning the Slayer. Once they had gotten their hands on it, chained it up and dragged it into the Slayer’s basement, they’d had a helluva time extracting the creature’s venomous spike. Every time either Xander or Spike managed to grasp the necessary appendage, the demon’s struggles began anew, its waxy flesh making it impossible to retain any hold on it.

In the end, it had been Tara’s carefully intoned sleep spell that got the job done. As soon as the creature was out, Xander held a slippery arm steady while Spike thrust the business end of a dagger through its waxen flesh. The demon’s poisonous spike shot out, and Willow ran forth to break off the piece needed for the antidote.

When they finished, the redhead rushed off to brew up the anti-venom. At Tara’s request, Xander and Spike unbound the creature and locked it into the basement with a clear escape route to the outside world. Then there was nothing to do, but wait- something the brunette male chose to do at his own home while the vampire returned to his girl’s side.

By sundown, Spike felt as though his patience had been stretched to its very limit. The entire afternoon had found him as the subject of the Slayer’s endless hallucinations. She’d screamed, cried, nattered non-stop about a future demon war where humans were driven underground by creatures of unspeakable horror. Whenever he attempted to calm her, she would fight him with every bit of her considerable strength. He’d long stopped counting the numerous wounds now marring his pale flesh. The insignificant scratches and bites were nothing to him, however. They would heal in no time, and were nothing with which the vampire was unaccustomed. Instead, Spike focused on preventing a crazed Slayer from hurting herself.

For Buffy, the things she saw within her mind were more than real; each scene unfolding without mercy as it passed before her mind’s eye. Eschewed views as though she saw them through the eyes of others despite the impossibility that she could do so.

Flash: She'd been crying for months. Slowly sinking further and further into that void of despair. Yet no one knew it wasn't really her in control. Dawn.

Flash: “The point is… I don't care if you nibble on the groupies or the weres. I made that truce with David so that this shit stopped happening. Bad business for you guys goin' out and slaughtering the masses.” Faith.

Flash: The power filled her in a hot rush. Her hair lengthened magickally, glowing a bright, silvery white. The energies swirled in her eyes, pools of onyx obliterating the whites. A silver aura arose from every pore of her skin as one voice cried out from the legion within her. She was being called; the Guardian's anguish tore at her, begging, pleading, screaming to her over the vast distance. Willow.

Flash: “What lies beneath the earth is but a borrowed vessel. As we are born from the earth, so must we return to it. The part that is truly us continues on in everything. We are the wind in the trees. Rains from the sky. Sunlight shining upon children at play.” Tara.

Flash: Strong arms wrapped around her, and she jerked away from the comforting embrace. Or tried to, at least. They just held on tighter; Angel to her left, Wesley to her right, different as night and day, yet similar in their desire to ease her suffering as well as to celebrate the return of one whom they'd both thought was lost to them. Cordelia.

Flash: The silence seemed to stretch on forever before Spike felt his bonds being removed and heard the slide of the zipper along his vinyl prison. The overhead fluorescent lighting was harsh to his sensitive eyes after the absolute, Stygian blackness he'd experienced since returning to awareness. Spike.

Flash: Seemingly overnight things had gone bad, apocalyptically bad, and it didn’t look like things were ever going to get better. Los Angeles, California- once that bright, shining La-La-Land of seventy millimeter hopes and dreams and silver screens- became a no man’s land. Hell had opened up in a dank, rainy alley and vomited forth hordes of nightmares the likes of which not even Stephen King could ever have imagined.


The darkest of images -as seen through the eyes of a being created to house the oldest of entities- were those that would forever haunt Buffy’s soul. The most devastating of them all, however, was a final scene in which the Slayer’s baby sister was once more snatched away from her in yet another cruel twist of fate. Only, unlike the night a hell god had abducted the teen, there would be no happy ending in sight. Even as Buffy’s mind began to shut down beneath the weight of her grief, some distant part of her registered that she was being held down while a vile concoction was forced down her throat…




When Willow finally returned home with the antidote, Spike was forced to hold Buffy down while the redhead forced the vile concoction down her throat. The blonde immediately spat it out, forcing the other two to repeat the task a second time. Once they had gotten the second dose into her, Buffy stilled gradually until she seemed to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep –something for which her best friend and vampire mate were profoundly grateful. The two gave each other tired, relieved smiles before the witch left the couple in the privacy of their bedroom.



Snapshots of Eternity
Epilogue: Aftermath

“If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream…”


Beneath the tree outside the Slayer’s bedroom, the Glargle’m’gash’m’nak lifted its face upward with a glare of irritation as the words from a Shakespearean play looped repeatedly through his head. He turned away with a growl, his tentacle-covered features transformed into a very human head beneath a black fedora as he muttered the familiar lines while he stomped his way towards the sidewalk.


“Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, we will mend:
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck,
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long…”



Whistler shot another glare upwards. “And who the hell ever heard of a wax demon?” The balance demon demanded. He paused for a moment before tossing a glance back towards the now-quiet house on Revello Drive. A secretive grin stretched his thin lips. “Here’s hoping you get it right this time, Kid.” With that, the errand boy for the Powers That Be began fading into the night.


“Else the Puck a liar call;
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends…”

A final glimpse at the now-quiet residence that housed his favorite vampire Slayer, and the little demon grinned. “And Robin shall restore amends.”

A moment later, an angry snarl ripped through the peaceful night. “Goddamn William Shakespeare!”

The End

Final author’s note: I just wanted to take a final opportunity to thank everyone for sticking with me through the end. It’s been a long, difficult road to get here, but I think the ride’s been worth it. For anyone unfamiliar with the quotes used in the epilogue, they are Robin Goodfellow/Puck’s final speech in William Skakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. (Which just happens to be my favorite of all the bard’s works.) Drop me a line and lemme know what you guys thought.