crack_van | I-55 by Yahtzee (PG)

Fandom: BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER / ANGEL: THE SERIES
Pairing: Buffy/Angel
Length: 5,000 words
Author on LJ:

yahtzee63
Author Website: yahtzee!

Why this must be read: Splitting off from canon in early BtVS S6/AtS S3, this fic follows an Angel desperate to keep his child alive and safe, a Buffy who is struggling with being alive, and a miracle-child of two vampires that isn't remotely Connor. It's hard to believe that the friends Angel and Buffy have surrounded themselves with might feel this way, but with this fic, it's hard to mind that treatment, especially when the characters are so very much there despite the premise. "I-55" is too dark to be called a happy ending, but Yahtzee's Buffy seems content with it, and so am I.

"They want me to kill her."

Angel had arrived in the darkest hours of night, missing Spike's exit from my bedroom by a heart-stoppingly few minutes. But I stopped worrying about Spike or just about anything else the moment I saw what Angel had with him, heard what he had to say.

Darla's baby. His baby. Mary. All pink and gold innocence, looking up at me with the unfocused but intent stare of a newborn. She smelled like talcum powder. Angel had gone to a store and bought her diapers and jammies and talcum powder.

Angel told me how she came to be, what she was prophesied to become. What Wesley and Cordelia said had to happen instead.

"They want me to kill her," Angel kept repeating, as though he could somehow force the words to make sense that way.

He couldn't kill her, of course. And when Wesley and Cordelia offered to take that burden from him, he had gathered Mary up and run for it.

My home was the one stop he made on his headlong flight from Los Angeles, from everything he'd worked so hard to build there. He wouldn't leave forever without saying goodbye. Without telling me why.

"They want me to kill her."

I looked up from Mary's tiny form in my arms and saw the question in his eyes. He couldn't say what he wanted to say out loud. He trusted me to understand.

And for the first time since I came back to life, I thought I knew what I was here for. An innocent life needed protection. The world needed saving.. A prophecy needed to be defied. And who does that better than me? I'd made it through the past months in a daze, telling myself over and over that I was living for the sake of others, that living for others made my being alive again worthwhile, that no matter how I hated it, I had to stay here and do that.

But now I had a way to live for others and still run like hell. And maybe save the world again in the process. And maybe guarantee that I'll go back to the place I left before.

"Give me ten minutes to pack," I said.

He stared at me for a long moment, then said, "Buffy?"

"If you're going to get away, you'll need somebody to drive during the daytime."

I considered leaving Dawn a note. I didn't.

I-55

I-55 by Yahtzee (PG)

no subject

no subject