Our Sons And Daughters
Chapter Title: Deeper Than Blood
Author: Baby Blues
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, except for the children and the story itself.
Notes: I've just estimated that if I keep writing one chapter a month, I'll be able to finish this Season in another 3 years (I have 44 chapters planned so far). Knowing me, I'll skip out a few times so . . . 3 years and some odd months? God help us all. ^__~
I'm also not too happy with Chapter 8. The more I read through it, the more I hate it the last parts of it. As you can see . . . I'm not very 'action-like' so I apologize if the ending of the chapter kinda sucks. Hopefully I can fix that later. ^__^
Summary: Buffy's in labor and the entire hotel is in an uproar. Aiden's past comes spilling out in distressing waves, causing Buffy to despair over a son she couldn't help.
Dedication: Surprisingly, I'm going to dedicate this chapter to my parents. I know I sometimes you give you guys a hard time, but I am grateful. Especially for putting me through college and . . . just putting up with ME all around. ^__^ Okay, I'm over the Hallmark moment. On with the show. *lol*
Last Minute Dedication: To Chris, the straight one, for being the quiet, sometimes shy bad boy of the C&OD class. I'm sorry it didn't work out and will probably never work out. This also goes to Josh who I hope I didn't misjudge. I hope my instincts aren't wrong about you. ^__^
Teasers:
~Austin: Dad? Are you okay?
~Angel: Would you believe me if I said yes?
~Austin: No . . . not really.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Loki sat straddling a dining chair in a posh hotel in the midst of Los Angeles, his face perfectly stoic and his upper body bare as a private doctor tended to his gaping wound.
Injured by a mere child. How could he have stooped so low? Yes, he and Austin were considered to be around the same age in this world, but he was 4,798 in his dimension. At 21, Austin took up a measly .4% of his age.
Loki's jaws unconsciously clenched at the stinging feel of his skin being sewn shut, but that barely compared to his hurt pride. And that was what it all came down to. Pride. He could've easily killed Rayne at the apartment, but he had let him go. His ego had been overflowing at the knowledge that this simple mission couldn't be any harder than lifting a finger. But he had shortly forgotten that this was Buffy, and all those who loved her would put down their life for her, especially Angelus.
But he just had to see her. The Slayer. Buffy Summers. His mother.
She was much thinner, even in her pregnant state. Her cheeks looked a little hollow and her collar bone seemed more prominent against her skin. She appeared happy, but there was a hint of emptiness that was dulling her usually glinting eyes. It just proved how melancholic she really was and, more importantly, how much she didn't belong in this world.
A distant ringing sound brought him back to reality and he cringed, apprehensive of the person who was undoubtedly on the other line. Living for 4,798 years made you an experienced learner. Especially when it came to family.
"It's your father," the Frenchman said gravely as he held up the cell phone with slightly shaking hands.
Loki winced and waved away the doctor.
"But sir, I'm not finished treating your wound . . ." the man sputtered as he gently held on to the needle and thread that was still connected to Loki's flesh.
"Just leave it," Loki brushed him off and violently grabbed the cell phone as the Frenchman pulled away the still stammering doctor.
"Yes?"
"You have a lot to explain," his father growled threateningly in the other line.
"Things just got out of hand," Loki said defensively, getting up from his seat and staring out into the city. "I won't fail next time, Father," he vowed passionately.
"There wasn't supposed to be a next time, Loki!" the angered voice of his sire yelled fiercely through the phone. "I ask you to do a simple thing, kill Rayne and bring me the Slayer."
"There were circumstances . . ."
"There will always be circumstances!" his father continued to rage, "After almost 5,000 years you still waste time playing mind games."
"I learned it from you," Loki gritted.
"Don't you dare use that tone with me! Amuse yourself with whatever you find entertaining but not about this," the voice said, the tone dropping in volume as it spilled vehemently with deadly venom, "Stop. Screwing. Around."
"I'll plan our next strategy as soon as possible," Loki pledged.
"Not until you return here."
Loki recoiled. "What?"
"Don't question me, boy," his father said ominously, "I want you here by tomorrow morning. Understood?"
Loki's jaws clenched rhythmically. Almost 5,000 years old and his father demanded he act maturely, however he continued to treat him as though he was still a child.
"Loki. Do you understand," the voice continued harshly.
"Yes, Father."
"Don't keep me waiting, boy." And with that said, his father hung up.
"Get the jet prepared, Frenchman," Loki said, smashing the phone against the wall and causing his shoulder to throb in pain as blood dripped from his wound and down his back like crimson tears. "My punishment awaits."
**********
"We're going to have to head to the store for some of this crap," Gunn stated as he looked through the list Ethan had compiled for the spell to turn the kids back to their older selves.
"And since when did bourbon become a major element for a reversal spell?" Connor asked.
"It's an offering to the Gods for all their brilliance and sense of humor," Ethan provided with a smirk and then rolled his eyes as Connor glared coldly at him. "Since the person who will be performing the spell was beaten into a bloody pulp," he disclosed through gritting teeth.
"I'm crossing that out. You don't need any more alcohol. It's the reason why we're in this predicament in the first place," Gunn stated.
"Sounds like a catchy anti-alcohol commercial," Lorne commented, "Don't drink or else you'll be thrown into Kiddy Hell where you'll be chasing five-year-olds and changing dirty diapers until eternity."
Fred's lips twitched into a smile, "Then maybe you should get rid of the martini you have in your hand right now."
Lorne gazed fondly at his glass as though it was an old friend. "I did say a great anti-alcohol commercial. I never said anything about actually adhering to it," he pointed out before carefully sipping the concoction.
Gunn smirked and grabbed the car keys.
"I'll drive," Connor lunged for the jingling set of metals.
Gunn sidestepped the eager teen. "Yeah, right," he snorted in amusement, "Angel would shit even bigger bricks than he's shitting right now."
Connor began to grumble as they headed out the door.
"You know . . . I keep wondering how Austin and Paige turned into their older selves without the spell," Wesley said as the doors closed.
"Maybe they got lucky?" Lorne offered, sitting down on a chair.
"Highly unlikely," Wesley looked at Ethan for a reply.
"Don't look at me! I have no bloody idea. I was a bit off my rocker, 'member?" the confined man shrugged as best he could being tied up.
"Paige?" Wes asked, turning to the 16-year-old who sat on the lobby couch tending to Tristan and flipping through a book. No longer a toddler with blond curls and big hazel eyes, she was now turned back to the young, teenage version of her mother and father.
"Well, I'm not exactly sure." Paige paused and thought for a long moment. "I mean . . . I remember huddling in the corner with the others when I heard the glass breaking. I freaked a bit and voila. Alice In Wonderland, with the speedy growth from small to big but sans cookies or weird tonics."
"Maybe it was because she wasn't supposed to age in the first place," Fred offered helpfully. "Didn't Whistler say she wasn't going to change in appearance anytime soon?"
"Hmm . . ." Wesley skimmed through his books, his forehead creasing in deep concentration before he looked at Paige to study her closer. "It's a possibility. But that still doesn't explain why Ariella didn't turn back as well."
"Maybe because if she did, she would've popped the Slayer open like a zit on a juvenile's chin," Lorne joked.
"Ugh, that's just . . . vulgar," Rayne complained disgustedly.
"No one asked you," Lorne huffed.
"Hmm. That may work . . . It could also very well be because of Ethan's intoxication and state of mind, the spell had a brake, a clause throughout this entire time," Wesley reasoned with himself out loud. "And how about Austin? Hmm . . . this is all very confusing."
"And something finally stumps the ex-Watcher," Lorne joked, earning a glare from Wesley.
As if one cue Austin emerged from the kitchen with a cup of coffee and his usual never-deflating smile. "I've concluded that the spell was broken because, first off, it was only temporary because the spell was quite weak."
"Who are you calling weak?" Rayne asked resentfully.
Everyone ignored him.
"Lasting only a few weeks or months at its best," he informed everyone, "Not only that, but right before I turned back, I was captured by one of the assailants from outside. He was about to break my neck so my anxiety went up to the max, and then I turned back."
"Fascinating," Wesley breathed in awe. "Austin's near death experience and Paige's terror of hearing the breaking glass. The intense strain might have sped up the brake in the curse."
Austin smiled in agreement and headed up the stairs, ruffling Aiden's blond hair as he passed him by.
"If only they were put through extreme stress?" Fred asked pointedly.
"Well, maybe we should all hang the rest of them upside down from the rooftop ledge and see what happens," Lorne grinned.
Wesley shrugged sheepishly. "I was only saying."
"I'm worried about Mom," Eliza suddenly popped up next to Wesley, looking at all the adults for an answer. "Is she gonna be okay?" she questioned, her big brown eyes watering at the thought of her mother getting hurt.
"Don't be stupid, Liz," Liam admonished from his station on the bottom step of the stairwell. "Mom'll be fine. She always is. Always," he insisted more to himself than to his sister.
"Yeah, Mom's a fighter," Brooke said proudly, "Plus, she's a warrior. Duh!"
"She's not gonna be fine," Aiden finally spoke up from his spot by the doorway leading to the garden.
"Aiden!" Lorne reprimanded.
"What? Don't say that!" Eliza panicked and began to sob, fists pressed against her tightly closed eyes.
"She'll die. She's too stressed," Aiden persisted, "She'll end up going through labor for hours and then dying from the loss of blood . . . as though a vampire had drained her."
"Quit it, Aiden," Brooke said angrily from her seat on the office counter.
The little boy turned to look at them and they all finally saw the tears that smeared his cheeks. "That's what the baby will be forever . . . a vampire who drained its mother dry."
Liam's temper rose and snapped. "You've been watching way too many alien movies! Stop talking before I beat you!"
YOU!
"You!" a distant voice shouted at him from the past. "You! You did this!"
Aiden stared up in shock at his father who was currently staggering through the living room with an empty beer bottle clasped loosely in his hand. Semi-dried tears were smudged all over his face, a sign of his sheer distraught and unclear mind.
"Dad, please," Aiden begged and cried helplessly as he huddled against the kitchen counter, fear and alarm making him tremble.
He didn't understand what was going on. He had just fallen asleep in his room before his father came barging in like a madman, drunk beyond reason, and raving about his mother. The vampire had then dragged him out of bed, pulling him into the living room area where they have been for a mere five minutes. But to Aiden, it seemed more like a lifetime.
"You made her go away!" Spike screamed in agony.
"I didn't mean it," Aiden cried honestly, his guilt almost choking him.
"Nothing can make her come back. Nothing," Spike said as he dejectedly fell to his knees, palms pressed tightly against his eyes as he tried to will his tears to go away. But it wouldn't, and he sobbed openly on the floor like a broken demon he was. A demon who had lost his entire life that was packed in one little blonde by the name of Buffy Summers.
"I'm sorry . . . I'm so sorry," Aiden cried harder as his hard sobs caused his chest to ache, "I'm sorry . . ."
"I'm sorry." Aiden's face dissolved into complete anguish before he broke down and screamed, "I'm so sorry!"
The others stood back in shock at the unmitigated pain completely visible on his young face. It was the kind of pain and grief no child should ever suffer through at such an early age.
"Mom! I'm sorry!" Aiden yelled and ran screaming up the stairs.
**********
"Dad? Are you alright?" Austin sat down on a sofa he had pulled out onto the hallway, and handed his father a cup of steaming coffee.
Angel grinned crookedly in thanks as he took the hot cup and let it warm his cold and slightly trembling hands. "Would you believe me if I said yes?"
"No . . . not really," Austin chuckled lightly just as another piercing scream traveled its way from the vampire's suite.
Angel took a large gulp of the scorching coffee and began to feel a bit dizzy. How was this possible for a creature that didn't even breathe? He wasn't sure.
A few days ago everything had been . . . so normal. He was running a private investigation firm with his good, reliable friends, he had one son who he was starting to make a connection with, and life was as perfect as it could get for an undead vampire with a soul. Now, he had the care of 5 of his own children from different worlds. Five children he never had the opportunity to experience the whole conceiving process with the woman he loved. What fun was that? And to add to that, 3 more kids belonging to Spike and said-woman were thrown into the blend to formulate this demented cake mixture.
Everything had happened so fast. First, the 8 teens were there and then there was the Slayer in all her splendor. Not to mention pregnant and a little hormonal.
Another shriek and Angel's thoughts focused even more on Buffy. Ever since she came walking through the hotel doors they had been friendly with one another, joking and teasing. But there was still a wall between them. Even though they were friendly with one another, there was still a strain politeness that made a few occurrences and moments uncomfortable.
"I don't feel good."
"Don't puke, Dad, please," Austin teased with a comforting smile. "It didn't go well the last time."
"I don't think allowing a voodoo priestess to act as mid wife was such a good idea," Angel divulged worriedly.
"Madame Taisha's well trusted by the Powers. We were lucky she was here for the week. Mom can't be in better hands," Austin assured him.
Angel just ran his fingers through his brown locks until it stuck up every which way.
Buffy had been in his suite since yesterday morning. The labor was taking much longer than anticipated. Worried didn't even come close to what Angel was feeling. It was more like stark, raving, mad-like anxiety that made his head spin and his heart ache. If anything happened to Buffy or Ariella . . . .
Just then, a young boy the age of five ran haphazardly up the steps of the hotel, tears streaming down his cheeks as a 16-year-old Paige followed close behind. Liam, Eliza, and Brooke trailed after her, their faces solemn as everyone took in the site of Aiden banging fiercely at the door.
"Mama!" he cried pathetically as he continued to beat the door down. "No! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
"I don't know what happened," Paige said, confused and bewildered as the other two. "He was just standing by the door and then he just snapped."
Aiden gazed up at the redheaded woman who stared back down at him, smiling brightly and sweetly as though she was looking at a cute little bunny. "Hello," she greeted warmly.
He immediately lifted his arms. "Dad told me to give these books to you. They're the . . . Ak-Aklam books he took," he mumbled shyly.
"Oh . . ."
"Who's at the door, Will?" Aiden's ears perked at the sound of his Uncle Xander's voice followed by his Aunt Anya.
Xander's eyes hardened as he looked down at him. "Where's your dad, kid?" he asked with revulsion.
Aiden could only shrug before he turned and left.
"I want my mom!" Aiden continued to scream and looked around helplessly at invisible people who couldn't possibly help him. "Open the door! I want mom!"
Austin acted quickly and reached for him but Aiden shoved his arms away and began banging intently on the door again with fierce determination.
Hysterical and frantic, Aiden seemed to have gone mad. "You can't let her die," he muttered through his tears, "You have to kill the baby. It's the only way."
Aiden stepped off the porch and gazed up at his mother's house looming quietly over him. Movements in the living room quickly caught his attention and he watched as Xander, Willow, and Anya sat on the couch. He cautiously walked up the steps and shuffled closer until he reached the windows that looked into the living room.
"You have to let it go, Xander," Willow said quietly.
"She's gone, Will."
"That child isn't to blame for that!" the redhead exclaimed in Aiden's defense.
Xander laughed bitterly. "Who am I to blame then?"
"No one," Anya answered sadly.
"Don't punish him, Xander," Willow pleaded, "He needs us."
"He's Spike's kid! Let him take care of the brat!"
"You're being irrational. You're in pain . . ."
"Don't get all Sigmund Freud on me, Wills. My pain doesn't come even close to my anger!" Xander yelled, his deep brown eyes swimming with unshed tear. He crumbled on the couch, his face full of agony, "Buffy's gone! And nothing, no one can make her come back this time!"
"No! Mom!" Aiden cried, his small fists now bruised, the angry red marks on his hands and arms began to turn into green and purple shades. Austin made a move again, this time succeeding in getting a hold of the small child.
"It's alright," he told Aiden comfortingly.
The sudden sound of wailing emitted from the bedroom and all became silent.
"Buffy," Angel chocked.
And Aiden screamed.
**********
His jaws clenched as he took the hard punch to his face like a man. "You're late," his father growled.
"My handy, dandy teleporter wasn't working," Loki gritted out facetiously.
His father chuckled darkly. "Keep talking, boy, and I promise this'll take even longer."
Loki gulped into silence.
His father was quiet as he walked over to a table at the corner of the library and poured himself some liquor. "How is she?" he asked throatily.
Loki got up from his kneeling position on the floor and wiped away the blood from the corner of his lips. "Thin as a rail . . . despite the enormous belly."
The dark man's lips twitched. "She too was like that when she came to our world. Skin and bones, so frail," he whispered, eyes seeing a past Loki had never witnessed.
Loki took a seat on one of the leather chairs and stared at the ceiling, painted with fat cherubs playing harps and flutes.
"Does she look happy?" his father asked, his tone sounding almost afraid of what the answer might be.
"Depends."
"On what?" he demanded.
"She looked happy enough."
"Enough?"
"Happy in contentment," Loki clarified.
The dark man laughed before gulping down a glass of scotch. "It's not what she needs . . . what she deserves. Contentment's for fools who don't know pure happiness," he looked at his son with blazing eyes, "And what the two of us had certainly was pure happiness."
"Of that I have no doubts," Loki replied.
"Who hurt you?"
"One of the children," Loki nearly spat as Austin's face flashed across his mind.
The older man quirked a brow in silent derision, "My son injured by a pup? Don't tell me you're losing it, Loki. Your blood is thousands of years old, not to mention I raised you better than that."
"It's only a scratch."
The dark man threw his glass against the wall and stalked towards Loki who stood up, waiting for more abuse. The punch came swiftly and painfully, and Loki did nothing but receive it without so much as a sound of pain. "Scratches don't draw nearly as much blood as I know you've lost," his father gritted out. "I can smell it on you. That boy did a number."
"I can take care of myself."
The older man snorted and drew away. "Your mother was once wounded by a fledgling vampire from her own stake."
Loki's ears perked up with interest. "She never told me that."
He laughed "Of course not. Defeats aren't exactly praise worthy, are they?"
Loki shrugged. "No," he said a little petulantly.
"Figure this out, Loki. Just don't let me down."
**********
"They took back the day. The child they conceived . . . what will happen to him?" The eldest of the PTB's looked thoughtfully at the glowing ball of energy drifting before him. It was only a soul of a child that couldn't be borne but was still important to the future of its world. "We'll care for him."
"What do we know of raising a child?" one of them argued fiercely.
"Nothing . . ." the eldest smiled.
"What do we name him?"
"What would the Slayer and vampire have named him?"
"Austin . . . Austin Brian," the eldest replied.
"Revered and strong . . . it will suit him perfectly."
"I am not changing any diapers," the second one argued again.
. . .
"Wait . . . there's another one in there!"
"What!" Buffy exclaimed, sweat beading on her forehead as she struggled for breath.
"It's alright," the nurse tried to calm the young mother down as she began to cry. "This happens more often than you know."
"I can't push anymore," Buffy shook her head vehemently, eyes wide with panic as she stared directly at the nurse.
"Well . . . you're gonna have to since there's another one about to come out," the doctor informed her.
"Ahhh!" Buffy screamed at another contraction.
"Push!"
And Buffy obeyed, biting into her lower lip so hard she drew blood.
"It's a girl!"
Buffy collapsed on the bed in utter exhaustion. "Congratulation, Mrs. Roarke. You have two healthy, twin babies."
Buffy sighed and stared down at her two little angels, all pink-faced with a nice set of strong lungs. Tears formed in her eyes as she held them both in her slightly trembling arms.
"What are their names?"
"Liam . . . and . . . Elizabeth," she replied breathlessly.
. . .
"C'mon, pet!"
"Screw you!" she shouted.
"Six weeks after this baby comes out," Spike joked with a nervous chuckle.
Buffy screamed.
"We're almost there, luv. Just a few more pushes," Spike promised.
And Buffy screamed even louder.
"C'mon, pet! You've conquered and won hundreds of apocalypses. Giving birth can't be as bad."
A punch to his face was his answer and Spike toppled to the ground.
"Buffy!" Willow chided her best friend gently.
"He was pissing me off!" the Slayer defended herself through gritted teeth.
Spike struggled back to his feet and glared at his wife.
"It's a girl!" Willow exclaimed, presenting the hollering child to its proud parents.
"What'll you name her?" the redhead asked.
Buffy smiled at her baby and gazed at Spike. "Yeah, Daddy. What's her name?"
"Brooke Sheridan," Spike whispered in awe, "She'll be our wild stream."
"She's gonna be a hellion," Xander commented from the doorway.
"Damn right," Spike chuckled.
. . .
"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Williams," the doctor smiled through his mask, "You have a healthy baby girl."
"Oh, God . . . Buffy. She's beautiful," Spike looked at his child and then Buffy.
"I want to see her," the new mother said, the cloth that covered her view of her belly during the C-section a hindrance to her child.
Spike waited until the nurses had blankets wrapped around the child before handing her over to the bewildered new father. Spike walked cautiously to where Buffy was and held the crying infant towards her view with a proud smile.
Buffy looked at her baby and then her husband thoughtfully, her chin quivering. "I love you."
"I love you too, pet," he said sincerely, kissing her lips.
"Her name?" the doctor pried.
Buffy looked up at her family standing close by and smiled tiredly. "It seems like Madison Paige won the vote."
And Willow, Xander, Giles, Anya, Andrew, and Dawn gave a loud cheer.
. . .
"Hang in there, Miss Summers," the doctor said to the almost unconscious woman. "He's almost out."
"I'm so tired," she cried softly.
"One more push, girl," the nurse urged, throwing a worried look towards the doctor who returned it full force.
"I can't!" Buffy shook her head. "Angel!" she screamed for a man who fathered her child . . . a man who would never know he had a son, a man who would never see that son grow, a man who was long dead.
"It's a boy! But . . . we knew that already," the doctor laughed.
Buffy chuckled tiredly, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"What's his name?" the nurse asked quietly, her heart aching for the mysterious young woman.
"Alan Emanuel. My handsome, baby boy . . ."
. . .
"It's a girl, Mr. and Mrs. O'Connor," the doctor announced as a screaming mass of wet, chubby flesh was presented to the two of them.
"She's perfect," Angel whispered in awe as he was handed their child. "Hello Ariel Love, welcome to the world."
"Perfect," Buffy echoed and then began to cry in earnest.
Angel frowned and caressed his wife's face as he tried to soothe his little girl at the same time. "Sweetheart? What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Buffy sobbed.
"Come on, Buffy. Everything's fine. She's absolutely healthy," Angel told her.
"That's not it," Buffy whined.
"Then what is it?" he asked quietly.
Buffy's sobs made her breathing labored as she tightly closed her eyes. "Her head's shaped funny!"
The entire hospital room collapsed into fits of laughter.
Angel chuckled. "It won't stay like that, sweetheart."
"It won't?" Buffy sniffled.
"No."
"Oh," she gazed at her baby and smiled, "She's perfect then."
. . .
"Hang in there!" Willow cried.
The pain was excruciating.
"Oh God," Giles looked away, his face as pale as Buffy's.
"I can't see this," Dawn cried and ran out of the room.
"He's almost out."
Buffy gripped Willow's arm tightly, panic in her eyes. "Aiden Matthew . . ." she gasped, "That's his name, Will . . . Aiden because he's fiery . . ." she smiled lovingly, "And Matthew because he's my gift . . . my gift from God . . ."
"Buffy!?"
. . .
An insistent voice asked in the distance, "Buffy!?"
The Slayer's eyes fluttered open, eyes quickly locking with Angel's.
"What happened?" she asked, her voice raspy and raw.
"You passed out," Angel replied, pushing back strands of her damp hair away from her face.
"Ariella?" she asked, trying to get up.
"She's fine," Angel assured her, pressing her back down on the bed gently. "They're getting ready to perform the spell to turn them all back."
"Already?"
The vampire nodded, staring into her tired hazel eyes and trying so hard not to drown in them. "It's for the best. They're completely vulnerable like this."
Buffy nodded, looking down at her left hand Angel was currently holding tenderly in his grasp. "I understand," she said, her eyes watering.
Angel looked surprised and gently pulled his hand away. It was dangerous to get too close to Buffy again, even now he was trying hard to hold himself back from trying to kiss her and pounce on her like a wild animal.
"Can't we keep them like this a little bit longer?" she asked hopefully, pulling Angel out of those hazardous thoughts.
He smiled slightly, reading her immediately. Both Slayer and Vampire had become rather fond of these tiny tots with their never ending screaming, whether playful or not, their nonstop bickering with one another, the infinite sounds of their pattering feet down the halls and lobby, their absolute silence after they had just broken something priceless, and their overall adorableness beyond their wickedness.
"Not unless we can childproof this entire hotel under 2 hours," Angel grinned.
The sound of childish gurgling caught him off guard.
Angel met her eyes. "Would you like to see your daughter?"
Buffy pressed her lips together and nodded eagerly, her tears finally falling down her cheeks in fat streams. Angel got up and took Ariella from her makeshift crib made out of a wooden drawer from a dresser covered with the hotel's best and softest blankets as well as some stolen silk shirts from Cordelia's closet (provided by Aiden and Liam).
Angel stared down at his child as he walked back to Buffy. It was still a wonder he could hold this tiny baby in his hands as though he was an expert at it. Parental instincts seem to be bred in him as a vampire, and for that he was grateful or else he would've broken down and cried by now.
"She's beautiful," Buffy whispered softly, her lips trembling slightly as she watched her ex-boyfriend with their child.
"She gets it from her mother," Angel said as he handed her their little girl.
"Is it selfish of me to want to keep all of them this way?" she asked, her eyes still on Ariella who yawned and then hiccupped.
"No," Angel answered, "And I think they're easier to control as children. Honestly, I'd rather worry about packing school lunches and bed wetting than driver's licenses and teenage pregnancies."
Buffy eyes widened with sudden fear.
"Not that any of that will happen," Angel quickly assured her.
"Who was screaming for me outside the door?" Buffy asked curiously.
"Aiden. We weren't sure what was going on with him but when Madame Taisha assured him you were still alive, he calmed down a bit."
The soft knock on the door interrupted their family moment.
"Sorry to disturb you but we're about to begin," Wesley announced.
Buffy looked at Angel and then down at her baby. Yes, she wanted to keep all them as children. Austin would grow up with his parents, Aiden would never grow up thinking his mother had abandoned him, Liam and Eliza wouldn't have be passed from the Council to Giles, and Tristan didn't have to see his mother kill herself and grow up with a sadistic demon known as the Scourge of Europe.
"Thank you, Wes," she finally whispered. But just as Angel had said, it was for the best.
**********
"What are you doing here?"
"Came to watch the show," the voice behind answered with a smile.
Loki clenched his teeth as he kept his gaze to the city bathed in darkness and dancing with lights. "You're cockier than I am."
"Because I can be. I'm the youngest thus I don't have to be the most responsible." The younger man made himself comfortable on the ledge next to his older brother. "Father said you screwed up big time," he laughed.
"Go away and play with your toys, Phillip," Loki said in a monotone voice, "I hear the maids all need a nice fuck."
"Haven't seen to them yet, have you, Loki? You really are losing your touch in your old age."
Loki's eyes blazed but he kept his composure as an evil grin spread across his handsome face. "I'm like fine wine, little brother, I get better with age. You, on the other hand, are like milk, one that'll inevitably turn into cottage cheese."
"Ouch. Really," Phillip laughed, not at all offended. "Just say you missed me, Loki, I know you have. Who wouldn't?"
"What are you really doing here, Phillip?"
The younger man suddenly became serious, the city lights reflecting in his blue- green eyes. "I want to see her."
"Get in line."
"How is she, Loki?"
The oldest boy shrugged. "I don't know for sure, but I wouldn't be surprised if she remembered everything, packed up her things, and came home with us."
"Father . . . he seems to be going mad," Phillip said worriedly.
"Aren't we all? It's this dimension. Everything here is maddening."
"Hmm . . ."
"Where's our dear sister?" Loki asked.
"Begging Father for a new set of baubles. Preferably of the emerald kind and still attached to the head it belonged to."
Loki groaned.
"We leave in an hour. Father doesn't want us to stay," Phillip said regrettably.
"That really breaks my heart."
Phillip laughed. "Good luck here, Loki. I know you'll do well."
"Your faith in me is enlightening . . . and rather disturbing."
Phillip just chuckled and got on his feet, heading for the balcony doors.
"Where are you off to?" Loki asked curiously.
"To the maids of course."
**********
"Who's next?" Liam inquired curiously.
Back to their older selves, everyone, except the two youngest girls, were huddling in Austin's bedroom like scared little children about to meet their fate.
Paige and Ariella were already with Buffy, chatting up a storm about shopping, boys and normal girly stuff the female species loved talking about.
"It's like waiting for our damn executions," Aiden grumbled.
"Oh, shut it," Brooke rolled her eyes, "At least we weren't the ones screaming for 'Mommy' like someone had hacked off one of limbs."
"Fuck off, Brooke," Aiden spat.
"Whatever."
"What was that all about anyway?" Austin asked.
"None of your goddamn business," Aiden growled, on the defense.
The other looked at each other before Austin cleared his throat and pulled a name out of a glass vase. "Aiden, you're up."
The Spike look-alike scoffed ferociously and glared out the window like a sullen child he was only a mere hour ago. "This is stupid. Why can't we all just go in there together?"
"And maul her like a pack of hungry wolves?" Brooke snorted.
"Everyone needs a bit of one on one time with her," Austin explained, "It's only fair."
As if on cue, Paige and Ariella came skipping in through the door, laughing at a joke only the two of them understood. Aiden pushed against the wall he was leaning on and stormed out of the bedroom with everyone staring curiously after him.
"That guy has some serious issues," Liam mumbled.
"Issues that you both seem to share," Tristan commented mysteriously before heading out to the balcony.
Liam glared after him and the room fell into silence.
Aiden stopped dead in front of the door to his mother's room, his heart racing like pattering raindrops from a storm. His mind was blank as sweat began to bead on his forehead and drip down his face in small streams that reminded him of tears he hadn't cried for years. His mother, a woman he had never met, was just through this door.
He let his forehead fall against the frame of the doorway, his eyes closed.
He had caught site of her after he had turned back, but due to all of the teen's naked states, everyone, including him, went running for cover. After quickly getting dressed, Buffy was already talking with Austin up in Angel's suit and everyone decided to hang out in his bedroom to await his return for some serious drilling. But instead, Aiden snuck behind the slightly open door to watch them.
"The PTB's . . . they treated you well?" Buffy questioned, twiddling her thumbs a bit nervously.
Austin nodded. "Yes, of course," he replied and kindly grasped her hands in his to calm her down, "It was like having a lot of grandparents, grumpy but wise."
Buffy chortled at that and fell into a deep conversation with the democrat of the group.
The oldest of all eight was completely at ease, laughing and joking with her as though they were friends who went way back. And Aiden watched, completely in awe, as she touched Austin's cheek like a mother would and kiss his forehead tenderly. It was an affectionate moment that punched him in the gut.
How would he be able to converse with her like that? What the hell would he say? He snorted at himself and talked to the wall, "Hi, Mom. Can I call you mom? I'm not sure I have the right to since you . . ."
The door suddenly opened and Aiden found himself staring into hazel eyes.
Buffy gave him a concerned look. "Aiden? Are you alright?"
His throat seemed to have closed up as his chest began to ache. His entire past unexpectedly came rushing forward like a gigantic tidal wave, pulling him into a rough sea that was bent on drowning him. His eyes began to swim as he stared at his mother, looking so beautiful and perfect, just the way he had always pictured her.
"Aiden?" she asked again.
This was it . . .
"You never left," he finally choked out.
"What?" Buffy frowned.
"You never left, Mom," he told her angrily, silent tears now flowing freely from his bright blue eyes despite how much he tried to keep them at bay. "Everyone here thinks you left Sunnydale. Ran away from your duties, your life . . . your responsibilities . . . but you never did."
"Aiden . . ."
"You died, Mom!" he practically yelled out, wanting her to understand and waiting for the look of utter disgust and hatred that would surely fall across her face. He looked down at the floor and clutched at the door when he felt his legs begin to collapse under him. "You died!" he gritted out, closing his eyes tightly as the memories came surging through his mind like a lava flow, searing his brain and his heart.
"What do you want, kid?"
"I want to know the truth about what happened to Mom."
Xander's jaws clenched but opened the door to his apartment wider for Aiden to enter through. The young boy did so quietly and without looking around to study the man's residence. He didn't want to look too closely at the little things that made a place a real home, the pictures, the smell, the little trinkets scattered here and there.
"What did Spike tell you?" he asked, heading for the kitchen.
"I get a different version every time I ask."
"How old are you now?" Xander suddenly asked, half of his body hidden behind the open door of the fridge.
"Thirteen," Aiden replied.
"Do you know what rape is?"
"Y-yes," Aiden replied slowly, his growing suspicion making him ill.
"Well that's what your father did to Buffy," Xander spat viciously, slamming the fridge door closed, gulping down a bottle of water as he kept his back towards Aiden. "He left Buffy on the bathroom floor that same night to get his 'soul' and a few weeks later, Buffy found out she was pregnant with you."
Buffy felt her own tears forming at the sight of him, looking so lost and broken. She grasped him by the arms and held him carefully against her. She wasn't sure what was going on but Aiden was fighting to keep a hold of himself and failing miserably. She knew how strong he always tried to be and she wanted to offer him some consolation, to hold him in her arms and to make him realize that he didn't have to hold the entire world on his shoulders . . . that he didn't always have to be strong.
"It's alright . . . tell me," Buffy urged him.
"Spike raped you, he ran away, and you became pregnant with me," he said softly in defeat, clutching at her as though he would fall to his knees. "Eight months into your pregnancy, a gang of demons attacked the house. You defeated them with the help of the others."
Buffy's eyes went wide with horror.
Oh God . . . no . . .
"But the entire incident forced early labor," he growled and then looked at her with miserable eyes, "You died giving birth to me that night!"
Buffy embraced him tightly in her arms as a memory, not her own, crashed through her mind like a tsunami.
She was on the kitchen floor, staring down at her large belly as Willow kneeled over her, worried and trembling. A pool of blood surrounded her, soaking her jeans and sweater.
"He's coming!" Buffy gasped in pain, clutching at her stomach. "Dawnie, call Giles and someone get Spike!"
"What?" Xander exclaimed as though she was out of her mind. "It's the pain that's talking, you're delirious. Or maybe I am cause I thought I just heard you call out for Spike," he tried to convince himself more than anyone else.
"He needs to be here! He's in the school basement. Please, Xander!" Buffy screamed out her friend's name as a painful contraction overtook her body.
Xander looked lost and gazed at his best friend's little sister for some reasoning. Dawn only shrugged and lunged for the phone after shaking herself out of her initial shock. Xander shook his head but quickly left to get the demon the Slayer demanded to be there.
Buffy gazed into Willow's eyes and knew, she felt it in her heart and soul . . . her baby was going to come into this world just as she would leave it, and she felt her insides begin to break. She would never be able to raise her baby, to watch him take his first steps or be there when he starts going to school . . .
"Oh, God, Will," Buffy sobbed brokenly, "I want to see my baby. I want to take care of him and watch him grow. Will . . . I-I want to live. I want to live for him."
"Oh, Buffy," Willow whispered, almost in tears.
"I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry. Please," Aiden cried desperately, holding onto her as though he never wanted to let her go. "If I could I'd give my life for you. I never wanted you to die because of me."
And something suddenly overtook Buffy, as though someone had pushed her to the backseat of a car, taking over the driving. She felt herself grasp Aiden's face between her hands, pulling him so she could look into his eyes. "It wasn't your fault, never your fault," she found herself saying, "Aiden . . . I would give my life to you over and over again."
"Mom?" Aiden looked into her eyes and saw his real mother.
"I love you, Aiden Matthew," Buffy smiled tenderly at him, "You're my fiery gift . . . my fiery gift from God."
And he embraced her tightly as he cried openly against the crook of her neck. They slowly slipped to the floor with her comfortingly caressing his back.
Buffy felt herself take over her body once again, her tears flowing just as hard his. "Shh . . . it's alright," she assured her son. A son she couldn't help through his life, but a son she would take care of and love from now on.
tbc...
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