The Resurrection Gambit
Part Thirteen: Time After Time
Elsewhere: One second Angel had been in Los Angeles, watching in horror as Drusilla emerged from the alley wearing the Aurelius Gem, the next, he was… elsewhere. He didn’t know where he was, but he knew it wasn’t Earth. The sky was littered with stars, but they formed no constellations he had ever seen. For a moment, he imagined they formed eyes and faces, but as soon as he focused on them, they were gone.
Drusilla was nearby, dancing to music that seemed to subliminally pulse from everywhere, slow and steady pulses of sound that must be just beneath any human range of hearing. Even he could barely perceive it. Spike stood next to him, and looked as confused as he did. The others were gone.
The next thing he noticed was that they weren’t standing on ground, exactly, so much as a large disc of solid light that floated in the abyss. He looked over the edge, and saw the tapestry of stars extended in all directions.
“Bloody Hell,” said Spike. “Where are we?”
“This is the place behind the metaphor,” said Drusilla. “This is the place the mirror wants to be.”
If Angel didn’t know better, he could have sworn that Drusilla sounded almost lucid there. He didn’t spend much time on the thought, because a light shimmered on the other side of the disc, from which five figures emerged.
Willow stepped forward. It had only been months since he last saw her, but she looked…older. Her hair was long and white, and she exuded an aura of power that eclipsed that of the girl he knew.
“Angel?” said a voice he instantly recognized, although it too sounded different.
“Buffy?” said Spike, beating Angel to the exclamation. “But you’re…”
The nimbus of light surrounding Willow subsided, and Angel could now see that Buffy and Faith were standing to Willow’s right. Both looked older, less girlish. Both seemed transfixed on him, as if they’d seen a ghost. To Willow’s left stood two hooded men, both of whom seemed familiar also, but whom he couldn’t get a clear look at. He realized that no one here had a scent, including himself.
“Sorry, guys,” said Willow. “This has to be confusing, I know, but we’ve got ourselves a situation, and you have to listen to me.”
“But what happened to you?” asked Angel. “To all of you?”
“An old friend gave me a head’s up that something’s wrong. You’re going to…”
“He is to be judged,” said the Juris, appearing in the air above and between the two groups. It looked down upon them appraisingly, and then turned its attention toward Willow.
“The natural order has been tilted,” it said, and the comment seemed squarely aimed at Willow. “You have no right to interfere in this.”
“Got you there, big guy,” said Willow. “This all started when I resurrected Buffy. Consequently, I get to be the gal to sort it out.” Willow turned her attention back to Angel. “Listen. Guys. You’re not going to remember this, at least, not consciously. I can’t do anything to change what’s happened. But both of you, when the time’s right, need to remember this much: It’s going to all go wrong.”
Spike and Angel looked stunned. An anger was visibly fuming on the Juris’s face.
The taller of the monks stepped forward, and Angel gasped as he realized who it was.
“Dad,” said Connor. “Remember this much. There is an order to things, and you can’t change that.”
“Connor?” said Angel, a sob building in his chest. “But you’re… I mean, when?”
“It’s OK, dad,” said Connor. “I make it through.”
“But,” said Angel, but Willow interrupted him.
“Angel, you’re going to do what you think you must, but you’ll be wrong. And it’ll end…” she trailed off. “Not good. Definitely not good.”
Willow looked weary. Angel looked at their faces, and began to understand.
“You are arrogant, Angelus,” said the Juris. “So sure of your righteousness, of your uniquity. You have lost both.”
“The fate of your kind rests with you two,” said Connor, nodding to Angel and Spike. When one of you falls, you will remember some of this, like a fading dream. Four tied to the Slayer hold the fates of all of them, but you and yours are not a jury. You are not Gods.”
“The Slayer line is fading,” said Willow. “And the time of vampires stands on a precipice. They will either wait out the tide, or be destroyed entirely. It’s all connected. The balance will assert itself as it must.”
“But there are other options,” said Connor.
The Juris descended to the disc and looked Willow in the eyes. Willow didn’t flinch.
“I give him ten years,” said the Juris. “I will take my daughter and remove her to a far-off place, safe from the abominations.”
The Juris took Drusilla by the hand, and in an instant, they were gone.
“I love you,” said Connor. “In the end, it will all be set right.”
Angel began to speak, but in a flash of white light, they were gone.