Make me a witness
take me out
out of darkness
out of doubt
I won't weigh you down
with good intention
won't make fire out of clay
or other inventions
Will we burn in heaven
like we do down here?
Will the change come
while we're waiting?
everyone is waiting
And when we're done
Soul searching
as we carried the weight
and died for the cause
Is misery made beautiful
right before our eyes?
Will mercy be revealed
or blind us where we stand?
Will we burn in heaven
like we do down here?
Will the change come
while we're waiting?
everyone is waiting
Witness
Sarah MacLachlan
take me out
out of darkness
out of doubt
I won't weigh you down
with good intention
won't make fire out of clay
or other inventions
Will we burn in heaven
like we do down here?
Will the change come
while we're waiting?
everyone is waiting
And when we're done
Soul searching
as we carried the weight
and died for the cause
Is misery made beautiful
right before our eyes?
Will mercy be revealed
or blind us where we stand?
Will we burn in heaven
like we do down here?
Will the change come
while we're waiting?
everyone is waiting
Witness
Sarah MacLachlan
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 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
Triangle Part Three
William had been trying to off himself for years. Not that he was proud of it. All of
his games, even his initial attraction to Buffy, had begun with that deep-seeded
desire for death.
He had twice been successful, too. But circumstances kept bouncing him back. It
was like the Powers that Be had run short on kamikaze martyr types; they kept
having to recycle him.
Now, though, he had something he really wanted to hang on to. Except it seemed
Angel was going to make sure William the Bloody’s check cleared this time. No more
bouncing back.
Part of him kept up with the internal monologue of reassurance. That part insisted
it would never happen. Angel would not betray him because Angel was good. Angel
had a soul. Angel would do what was right. They could count on it. Except the
other more rational, more nagging part of him kept saying that it was possible
Angel would believe he was doing the right thing. William came home with a head full
of thoughts that led him into dark places he’d rather not visit.
He had comfort waiting for him. A warm bed. A pleasant house. A modern breed of
pseudo extended family like something from an American sitcom. It was something
Angel did not possess, and William felt a twinge of pity over that.
William found Buffy already asleep. Actually, it was strange. She slept on top of the
covers, damp hair drying to frizz on her pillow. She wore an appealing little number
in chocolate colored silk, trimmed with black satin piping and cream-colored lace.
Also, it was new. Had to be. One of those reserved for special occasions. They had
been through all her underthings; he was sure he would have noticed this one.
A picture painted itself in his mind. He almost didn’t permit himself to think it, but
the evidence seemed to suggest that she had dressed for him. After he left, she
had showered and put on this 1940s Claudette Colbert goddess-of-the-silver-
screen negligée, then fell asleep waiting for him to come home.
She’d waited for him, and he’d missed it. Spent his night drinking up bad news with
Smiles-A-Lot. Hardly seemed fair. Except, she was at rest. Peacefully resting. She
needed that.
William sat on the edge of the bed. He placed his hand on her belly. He splayed his
fingers, wondering at the way he was able to cover all of it with his palm. He
thought, how long would that be so? And would he last long enough to see her
blow up like a puffer fish?
A deep agony struck him then, a pervasive ache from the back of his eyeballs to
the balls of his feet. It hurt, all the way to his soul.
Buffy’s eyelashes fluttered.
“Hey,” she said. She smiled a sweetly sleepy smile.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said. “I, um...”
“It’s okay,” she said. “Did you slay any demons?”
“Only the personal kind,” he said.
“I hear they’re the worst,” she said.
They stared at each other for a long moment, neither one speaking. Buffy slipped
her hand into William’s, lacing her fingers with his.
“I love you,” she said.
She might well have struck him with a mallet.
Biting back the pain, he said, “You know, I think you do.”
Buffy tugged him forward, half-playful but fully awake.
William committed to his mind every detail, every touch. The way her hair fell
around his face when she kissed him. The way his thumbs rested on her pelvic
bones. The feeling of silk against her skin, against his hands. The scent of vanilla
sugar. How they fit together. They fit.
It was right, being humbled this way; being brought to bear by love.
He was sentimental. He was a fool. And he was lucky to have lasted this long.
Angel drifted, the key clutched in his hand. He saw nothing of the world around
him. The only thing that mattered was the web of lines and markers in his mind
that led him down into sewer tunnels, beneath utility mains, and deeper, into
catacombs long forgotten by man.
In a dim place deep within the earth, Angel found it: a solitary door carved into
stone.
Being a vampire, he was already breathless, but the anticipation coiled inside him
like a snake. He raised the key to the door. A triangular notch lit up from within
the stone.
Angel clicked the key into the lock and turned it. The door dissolved to a colorless
glow. Beyond it, he saw a stretch of pristine beach. The ocean spread out smooth
as a polished metal, reflecting the gold of sunrise at its brim.
Buffy was there. Of course, she would be. She waited for him at the shore.
Waiting, and watching. It was the picture of taintless serenity, and it was his.
Without thinking, Angel stepped through the door. He crossed the soft sand,
marveling at the warmth of it between his toes.
She didn’t turn when Angel took her hand in his. She simply smiled and said, “I knew
you would come. It wouldn’t be heaven without you.”
William had been trying to off himself for years. Not that he was proud of it. All of
his games, even his initial attraction to Buffy, had begun with that deep-seeded
desire for death.
He had twice been successful, too. But circumstances kept bouncing him back. It
was like the Powers that Be had run short on kamikaze martyr types; they kept
having to recycle him.
Now, though, he had something he really wanted to hang on to. Except it seemed
Angel was going to make sure William the Bloody’s check cleared this time. No more
bouncing back.
Part of him kept up with the internal monologue of reassurance. That part insisted
it would never happen. Angel would not betray him because Angel was good. Angel
had a soul. Angel would do what was right. They could count on it. Except the
other more rational, more nagging part of him kept saying that it was possible
Angel would believe he was doing the right thing. William came home with a head full
of thoughts that led him into dark places he’d rather not visit.
He had comfort waiting for him. A warm bed. A pleasant house. A modern breed of
pseudo extended family like something from an American sitcom. It was something
Angel did not possess, and William felt a twinge of pity over that.
William found Buffy already asleep. Actually, it was strange. She slept on top of the
covers, damp hair drying to frizz on her pillow. She wore an appealing little number
in chocolate colored silk, trimmed with black satin piping and cream-colored lace.
Also, it was new. Had to be. One of those reserved for special occasions. They had
been through all her underthings; he was sure he would have noticed this one.
A picture painted itself in his mind. He almost didn’t permit himself to think it, but
the evidence seemed to suggest that she had dressed for him. After he left, she
had showered and put on this 1940s Claudette Colbert goddess-of-the-silver-
screen negligée, then fell asleep waiting for him to come home.
She’d waited for him, and he’d missed it. Spent his night drinking up bad news with
Smiles-A-Lot. Hardly seemed fair. Except, she was at rest. Peacefully resting. She
needed that.
William sat on the edge of the bed. He placed his hand on her belly. He splayed his
fingers, wondering at the way he was able to cover all of it with his palm. He
thought, how long would that be so? And would he last long enough to see her
blow up like a puffer fish?
A deep agony struck him then, a pervasive ache from the back of his eyeballs to
the balls of his feet. It hurt, all the way to his soul.
Buffy’s eyelashes fluttered.
“Hey,” she said. She smiled a sweetly sleepy smile.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said. “I, um...”
“It’s okay,” she said. “Did you slay any demons?”
“Only the personal kind,” he said.
“I hear they’re the worst,” she said.
They stared at each other for a long moment, neither one speaking. Buffy slipped
her hand into William’s, lacing her fingers with his.
“I love you,” she said.
She might well have struck him with a mallet.
Biting back the pain, he said, “You know, I think you do.”
Buffy tugged him forward, half-playful but fully awake.
William committed to his mind every detail, every touch. The way her hair fell
around his face when she kissed him. The way his thumbs rested on her pelvic
bones. The feeling of silk against her skin, against his hands. The scent of vanilla
sugar. How they fit together. They fit.
It was right, being humbled this way; being brought to bear by love.
He was sentimental. He was a fool. And he was lucky to have lasted this long.
Angel drifted, the key clutched in his hand. He saw nothing of the world around
him. The only thing that mattered was the web of lines and markers in his mind
that led him down into sewer tunnels, beneath utility mains, and deeper, into
catacombs long forgotten by man.
In a dim place deep within the earth, Angel found it: a solitary door carved into
stone.
Being a vampire, he was already breathless, but the anticipation coiled inside him
like a snake. He raised the key to the door. A triangular notch lit up from within
the stone.
Angel clicked the key into the lock and turned it. The door dissolved to a colorless
glow. Beyond it, he saw a stretch of pristine beach. The ocean spread out smooth
as a polished metal, reflecting the gold of sunrise at its brim.
Buffy was there. Of course, she would be. She waited for him at the shore.
Waiting, and watching. It was the picture of taintless serenity, and it was his.
Without thinking, Angel stepped through the door. He crossed the soft sand,
marveling at the warmth of it between his toes.
She didn’t turn when Angel took her hand in his. She simply smiled and said, “I knew
you would come. It wouldn’t be heaven without you.”
.Chapter Index.
Part Two: Regrets
Family
Stasis
Lost
Hunger
Wake Up Call
A Hole In The World
Fight the Fight
Demons at the Door
In Between
Triumvirate
Regroup
Tumble and Fall
Tests
Time
Change
Circle
Bloodlines
Fight or Flight
Hooks
Protection
Completion
Triangle Part One
Triangle Part Two
Triangle Part Three
Settling
Duality
Awaken
Regrets
Revelations
Ties That Bind
Grace
Evolution
Execution
Wake
Faith
Conduit
Found
Last
Fear
Full Circle
Circles, Doors & Keys
Epilogue
For Part One - Wishes
Chapter Index, click
here.
Part Two: Regrets
Family
Stasis
Lost
Hunger
Wake Up Call
A Hole In The World
Fight the Fight
Demons at the Door
In Between
Triumvirate
Regroup
Tumble and Fall
Tests
Time
Change
Circle
Bloodlines
Fight or Flight
Hooks
Protection
Completion
Triangle Part One
Triangle Part Two
Triangle Part Three
Settling
Duality
Awaken
Regrets
Revelations
Ties That Bind
Grace
Evolution
Execution
Wake
Faith
Conduit
Found
Last
Fear
Full Circle
Circles, Doors & Keys
Epilogue
For Part One - Wishes
Chapter Index, click
here.