He could do to her what he wished; he would not break her.
“The fate of your flesh is sealed, my child, but there is still time to save your soul. Confess your sins, denounce your demon lover, and ask God for forgiveness.”
Isobel raised her head, her eyes still holding the fire no mere man could take from her. “I shall never denounce him.”
“The fires are already being started, child. Your death is imminent. This is your final chance to save your soul.”
Isobel took a breath, pulling strength deep within her body, and spit in his face.
The priest wiped the spittle away with a cold sneer. “Then may God have mercy on your soul – though I doubt he shall have any at all.”
He left her alone, and Isobel let herself hang loosely, fighting tears now that she was alone. She wasn’t afraid of death. As a Slayer, she was always prepared for the end, knowing that every night could be her last. And to be given the gift of love, even as brief as it had been – she could die knowing her life had not been without meaning.
But Edmund… The tears she wished to cry now were not for herself, but for him. She wished that she had listened to him, that she had run away with him before it had become too late. He would be alone now, forced to return to the loneliness he had known in the century before he’d found her.
She had let him down, and for that, yes, Isobel had regrets.
The priest returned, three large men behind him, and Isobel knew it was time. She would hold her head up high, refuse to show any weakness. She would die proud.
She would die a Slayer.
The men took her down from the wall, and Isobel fell forward, her limbs useless after the time she’d spent at the priest’s mercy. She wanted to fight, wanted to run, but her body had betrayed her, proving weaker than she knew.
The villagers were gathered outside the church, lit torches in their hands, as she was dragged towards where she would burn. She wished she could see Edmund one last time, look into his eyes and know he’d survive without her, that he’d learn how to go on.
She wanted to see his deep, green eyes one last time before she died…
Instead, she was brought broken and bloodied to the stake, cries for her death ringing in her ears as she was bound to the wood.
She stared forward as they lit the kindling around her, the fire at her feet roaring to life. Within moments, the heat was unbearable, smoke rising to fill her lungs.
They wanted her to scream.
She would not.
The fire burned stronger, caging her in, and Isobel closed her eyes, thinking only of Edmund, wanting her last thoughts to be of him and him alone.
A roar pierced the night, and Isobel’s heart began to thud in her chest. It couldn’t be… Was he here?
“ISOBEL!!!!”
The nearly-inhuman bellowing of her name pierced the night, and Isobel sighed, a small piece of hope sparking inside of her. He was there. He’d come for her.
She could see him…
The villagers screamed, scrambling to escape the enraged vampire barreling through the crowd, tearing apart anyone who dared come near him. He ran to Isobel, undaunted by the deadly fire blazing around her.
“Edmund…no…” Isobel moaned, her head lolling to the side. “You’ll…you’ll burn.”
He said nothing in response as he ripped the ropes that kept her bound, ignoring how deadly the flames raging around them were to him. He’d face any peril for her…
She slumped forward into his arms, and Edmund leapt over the flames again. Roaring at the few villagers who tried to stop him. “I’ll kill anyone who dares to touch her!” he yelled, his body trembling as he held Isobel close. “I’ll murder you all for what you’ve done to her!”
The priest stepped forward, undaunted by Edmund’s fury. “It is you who has brought her to this fate, demon. Your touch corrupted her, made her filthy. It is you who doomed her to burn.”
Edmund’s yellow eyes flickered with the flame light. “No, it was you who did this to her,” he growled. “You’re more demon than I could ever be.”
“Your whore turned against the Lord. She deserved every lash I placed upon her pale skin.”
Edmund roared, swiping out with his strong arm, knocking the priest from his feet and into the flames surrounding the stake. He screamed as the fire consumed him, and Edmund watched him burn, his expression grim.
“Edmund…” Isobel whispered, her lips against his neck. His face shifted back to human as he looked down at her.
“You’re safe now, dove,” he said, his cool had caressing her skin, soothing her burns. “You’re safe.”
Isobel shook her head slowly, a weak smile on her face. “I love you, Edmund.”
His face fell as he realized what she meant, what was happening. He’d come for her. He’d saved her. She couldn’t… “Isobel, please…no, don’t leave me,” Edmund begged her, seeing the fire dying in her eyes. “You can’t… I can’t… Isobel, please. You’re strong, Slayer… Be strong.”
She wanted to do what he asked, wanted to be strong just for him, but Isobel knew she could not. Even before Edmund had arrived, she was too far gone, the torments she’d received at the priest’s hand too much. “I love you,” she repeated again, allowing herself on last look at his beautiful face before her eyes fluttered closed.
The last thing she heard was Edmund’s anguished cry.
Buffy woke up and immediately broke into sobs, her whole body shaking. She’d known what was coming, known Isobel wasn’t going to survive, and yet watching it, living it…
It had been too much for her to bear.
Isobel had been accepting of her fate. She hadn’t wanted it, hadn’t wished to die so young, but she had accepted it. She knew her place, knew what it meant to be a Slayer.
But Edmund…
The bottomless sorrow in his eyes, his voice. How he’d been willing to take on the world if need be to save her, and yet he’d still failed…
It was heart wrenching, and Buffy couldn’t stand it.
The house was still, and Buffy knew she was alone. She was already late for her Doublemeat shift, but honestly, she couldn’t find it in her to care.
She was exhausted, she was worn down to the bone.
She was lonely…
Buffy got out of bed and dressed quickly, tears still falling down her face. She couldn’t be alone, not now, not with this aching inside of her. She left the house, walking down the street as if pulled by something greater than herself.
She found Spike asleep in his bed, yet she didn’t try to wake him. Instead, she slipped off her clothes and climbed in under the sheets beside him, needing the feel of his cool skin against hers. He made a soft murmuring sound in his sleep, pulled her closer into his arms, but didn’t wake.
Buffy fell into a dreamless sleep.
She didn’t know if she found comfort in that or not.
Buffy stretched as she moved towards consciousness, feeling decidedly more rested than she had in quite some time. She opened her eyes, then blushed when she saw Spike staring intently at her and remembered climbing into his bed before.
“Not that I’m going to complain, pet, but mind telling me what you’re doing all naked and under my covers?”
“I didn’t want to sleep alone,” Buffy admitted.
Spike frowned. “Another one of those Slayer dreams, luv?”
“Yeah,” she replied with a nod. “I think…I think it was the last of them, though. Isobel’s really dead now.”
“Was it Edmund?”
“No. He tried to save her, but…but he was too late.” Buffy swallowed hard. “She was burned at the stake.”
Spike winced. “Poor girl. Not a fitting end for a Slayer at all.”
“I know. I was almost burned at the stake once myself, thanks to freaking Hansel and Gretel.”
“What?”
“Long story.”
“Yeah, I’d wager it would be.” Spike tucked Buffy’s hair behind her ear. “Do you need to talk about things, sweetheart?”
“I don’t know. The whole thing just has me all in knots. The dreams didn’t make any sense to me. Isobel was a Slayer, but she was completely in love with Edmund. And…and Edmund… He treated her like she was the most precious thing in the world to him, even though he was a vampire.”
“And? These things do happen, you know.”
“But it’s not like they got some sort of happy ending, Spike. She died and left him all alone. And…and even though she wished she could’ve run away with him like he asked her to, she never did, and…” Buffy fought the urge to cry again. “I don’t know why the Powers made me see that.”
“No? I think it should be pretty bloody obvious. You said earlier that maybe they were showing it to you so you wouldn’t make the same mistake Isobel made. Well, she let herself lose Edmund. Maybe they’re telling you not to make that mistake.”
Buffy sighed. “Yeah, and again, you’re trying to make this about us.”
“It is about us,” Spike yelled, having about as much of her crazy denial of the obvious as he could stand. “Why else would the Powers send you dreams about a Slayer that loved a vampire at this particular point in your life, huh? I don’t suppose they sent you any of those when you were with Angelus…”
Buffy worried her bottom lip. Okay, well, they hadn’t, but maybe they were just running a little late… Only she really didn’t like that theory, so she decided to simply not dwell on it at all.
“I know you feel something for me, Slayer, and I know it’s not disgust or loathing or whatever you’re calling it today. I know it’s something strong, it’s something real, and I’m willing to wager it’s the same thing your Isobel and Edmund felt for each other, too. You’re wasting your time trying to figure out why you had these dreams when the answer’s as obvious as if the Powers had opted to send you a flashing neon sign instead.”
Spike cupped Buffy’s chin and forced her to look into his eyes. “Did Edmund love Isobel?”
Buffy thought about how Edmund had looked at Isobel as she’d lay dying in his arms, and there was only one answer she could give. “Yes.”
“And did she love him?”
She’d felt Isobel’s emotions as strongly as if they were her own. “Yes.”
“Then why in the name of all the bloody hells would the Powers That Be send you dreams about a vampire and a Slayer who fell in love if they were trying to condemn such a pairing?”
“I don’t know!” Buffy exclaimed. “But this can’t be right, Spike. We can’t be right. We…” She broke off into tears.
Spike pulled her into his arms. “Shh… It’s all right, kitten. Don’t cry now. It’s been a trying time for you, I know. But it’s all right now. You don’t have to keep fighting it.”
“Yes, Spike, I do,” Buffy insisted as she worked herself free of his grip, then got off the bed and found her clothes.
Knowing this next bit by heart, Spike decided he was going to change things up a bit this time. He got up and dressed as she did, and when she ran from his crypt, he followed right after her.
Buffy stopped short with the vampire on her heels and turned to face him. “I’m running off, Spike. Can’t you take a hint?”
“From you, no, seeing as the meanings behind your hints change every fucking second! I’m tired of this game, Slayer. Neither one of us is getting anywhere from playing it, so…” Spike stopped suddenly and moved Buffy so she was now slightly behind him. “Vampire.”
Spike pulled a stake from his duster, but stopped when Buffy grabbed his arm.
“Spike, wait, don’t. That’s…that’s Edmund.”
His gaze bounced between the other vampire and the Slayer at his side. “That’s… Really? Are you sure?” he asked Buffy softly.
“Positive. I…” Buffy stopped short, gasping as she saw a woman with long brown hair step from the shadows and take her place at Edmund’s side.
The woman smiled as her hand slid into Edmund’s.
“Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I presume?”