Latter Days by Enigmaticblue

Summary: Set post-Chosen. After the Slayers are activated, the balance between good and evil is disturbed, and the Scoobies are flung to the far corners of the world to respond to the crisis. In the midst of all of this, will they be able to keep their relationships strong? Or will they be divided by circumstances and torn apart by fate? Follows my short story Yesterday.

Author's Notes: Remember how things went after Chosen? Well, forget about all of that, and ignore the comics. This is my version. This series is comprised of Latter Days, Faithfully Dangerous, and Now and Always, and the entire series will be known by the third title. You’ll see why. (And although some of the locations mentioned in this fic exist, this is my world, which means that I’m twisting reality to my own ends.)

“What a beautiful piece of heartache/This has all turned out to be/Lord knows we've learned the hard way/All about healthy apathy…There is a me you would not recognize, dear/Call it the shadow of myself/And if the music starts before I get there/Dance without me, you dance so gracefully/I really think I'll be okay/They've taken a toll, these latter days/Nothing like sleeping on a bed of nails/Nothing much here but our broken dream/Oh, but baby, if all else fails/Nothing is ever quite what it seems…” ~Over the Rhine, “Latter Days”

Chapter 19: Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

“…You can see why it’s so bad, Xander. We just don’t have the manpower to spare right now, but Kennedy isn’t ready to be on her own with a bunch of Slayers yet, not with an active Hellmouth. Plus, it sounds like she’s pretty freaked out about the whole thing. With Robin dead, though, it’s hard to know what to think. We all thought that he was a friend…” ~Excerpt from an email from Willow Rosenberg to Xander Harris

“But why on earth would he do something that stupid?” Zoë exclaimed.

Willow shook her head. “I know Spike killed his mother, but—”

“I’m not referring to that.” At Willow’s surprised look, she clarified, “I’m not condoning his behavior in the least, but if I knew that the vampire who had killed my mother was still running about, I might be tempted to do the same.”

“I probably would, too,” Willow admitted.

“No, I’m talking about trying to kill his Slayers,” Zoë went on. “It would have been better for him—although probably not for Spike or for us—for him to simply disappear.”

That was what Zoë was having such a difficult time understanding. It was one thing to want revenge; it was something different to attempt to kill those who had uncovered your plans. “How is Kennedy doing?” she asked, when Willow didn’t reply immediately.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve called a couple of times, and she said she was fine. Faith will have a better idea.”

“Oh?” Zoë asked.

“Giles asked her to go back to Cleveland while he makes arrangements for a Watcher and one of the Council members to meet them. The problem is that the older Watchers are all unsuitable for field work, and we need an older Watcher there.”

“What about one of the coven members?” Zoë asked. She’d met a number of the witches, and there had been quite a few who were formidable.

Willow sighed. “That’s pretty much what we’re relying on. I don’t know who Giles is going to get, though. None of them are really warriors.”

“Does that really matter?”

“Right now, no, as long as they can use combative magic.” Willow rubbed her forehead tiredly. “I don’t know what to think, to be honest. I feel as though I’m too far away to do any good.”

Zoë patted her on the shoulder. “You are too far away. I realize that doesn’t make you feel any better, but there’s nothing to be done about it.”

“I know.” Willow sighed and rose to her feet, forcing a smile on her face. “I’m sorry. I should go get something to eat. I know I’m not much fun to be around right now.”

Zoë watched her go, feeling sympathetic. She knew how difficult it was to be far away from friends and family when they were hurting. The truth was that they were all struggling with the same thing, and there was no way to make things easier.

Arnold entered the room slowly. “Wasn’t Willow just in here?”

“She was. Were you looking for her?”

He shook his head. “No, not really. It’s just that I’d heard about Robin, and…” Arnold trailed off, glancing back towards where he’d come from. “I don’t understand how he could attempt to kill his Slayers.”

“Nor do I.” Zoë understood his bafflement; unlike Willow, who seemed most perturbed at the thought that Wood had gone after Spike, Zoë suspected that most Watchers would be more appalled at his attempts to cover it up.

She had heard stories of Watchers who had killed their Slayers, either because they had gone rogue and were a danger to others, or as a result of their own misguided goals. For most Watchers, however, the realization that someday their Slayer would die was something that engendered a deep fear.

There were, after all, more than a few Watchers who had committed suicide after the deaths of their Slayers; one of her ancestors on the Council had done so, in fact.

Therefore, a man who would be willing to kill not one, but two, Slayers, while trying to cover his own misdeeds—well, good riddance to bad rubbish was what Zoë was thinking, even though she wouldn’t say it out loud.

“I wasn’t supposed to get a potential, you know,” Arnold said out of the blue. “My older brother was slated for that honor.”

Zoë had heard only snippets of the story; they lived in a small, insular world, but there was some gossip that was reserved for the ears of only a few in the inner circle. “Oh?”

“He was caught sleeping with one of the girls—not his, and she was of age, but it was still quite the scandal.” Arnold smiled mirthlessly. “I had done well in my studies, and there were a number who owed my father favors, but I was still a poor second choice.”

“I can’t say I agree with that assessment,” Zoë replied evenly. “What happened to your brother?”

“My father disowned him, and I haven’t spoken to him since.” Arnold shrugged. “He may as well have disappeared off the face of the planet for all I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. He wasn’t a very nice person.”

There was a moment of silence as Zoë studied his face. Arnold was not conventionally handsome by any stretch of the imagination, but he was a steady bloke, and his eyes reflected his calm manner. Zoë thought that might be why he was such a good teacher; the girls trusted him almost immediately.

“Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”

Arnold turned to her, blinking. “Excuse me?”

Feeling both nervous and excited, she repeated, “Would you like to have dinner with me? We’re due a night off sometime soon, and I’d like the company.”

“I, uh…” Arnold squared his shoulders. “Yes. I should like that very much.”

Zoë smiled, remembering something that her father had once told her. “Life is short, my girl. Seize what joy you can when it presents itself to you.” She was going to do everything in her power to do just that.

~~~~~

Willow had received the news from Giles; it hadn’t been good. Robin Wood was dead, Kennedy had a concussion, and Rachel had been shot with a crossbow. Both the girls would be okay eventually, which was a small miracle.

She supposed that she should be grateful for whatever small miracles they could get.

Putting her head down on her desk, Willow took a deep breath, wishing that there was something she could do. The phone rang, and she picked it up wearily. “Yeah?”

“Will?”

“Buffy? I thought you were supposed to be on vacation.” Willow sat up straight.

Buffy sighed. “We still are, technically. Dawn got in touch with us a little bit ago to fill us in.”

She felt for her friend. “How many days do you have left?”

“Just two. We’ve had a good time, but it seems like it’s time to go back.”

“Don’t.” Willow’s voice was strong. “What can you do? Faith is going to Cleveland, Robin is dead. I’ve already been told that I’m too far away to do any good; the same is true for you.”

“Will—”

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s true.”

“Then why would you leave early?”

“That’s what Spike said,” Buffy admitted. “It’s just—I feel like there ought to be something I can do.”

“I know. I feel the same way.”

Buffy was quiet for a moment, then said, “How are things in Brazil?”

“Good.” Willow was relieved to be able to tell the truth, knowing that it would help put Buffy at ease. “The girls are all doing really well, the Watchers are getting along, there really isn’t much else to report.”

“No drama sounds good to me,” Buffy said.

“How’s the trip been?”

“Relaxing.” Willow could hear the smile in her friend’s voice, and it was heartening. “We haven’t done much.” There was a sound in the background, and Buffy added, “Spike said to tell you that wasn’t quite true.”

“I think I can guess what you guys have been doing,” Willow said dryly. “And unless Spike has lost his touch, you’ve probably had quite the workout.”

She laughed. “He hasn’t.” Buffy paused. “Are you really okay, Will? I know that you’re kind of out there by yourself—”

“I’m not,” Willow was quick to assure her. “Really. Zoë and I are getting pretty close, and Arnold has been a huge help.”

“Okay, well, if you need anything, just let us know. We’ll figure it out.”

Willow appreciated the offer, but both Zoë and Buffy were right. She was removed from the others, and although she was far from her friends, she was close to others. “I will. Have fun, Buffy.”

She hung up the phone and squashed the self-pity that welled up. It was in moments like this when she missed Tara the most. The knock on the study door had her straightening her shoulders. “Come in!”

Teresa poked her head in. “Willow, you have a guest.”

Willow frowned. She hadn’t been expecting anyone. “I’ll be right there.”

Rising, she followed Teresa out to the front entrance—and stopped cold. “Oz?”

He stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, his eyes steady. “Hi, Willow.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I know it’s not Istanbul, but—”

She didn’t let him finish, instead throwing her arms around him. It was just so good to see a familiar face, someone from Sunnydale. “It’s good to see you.”

“So it seems.” His arms had come around her, holding on tightly. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me, too.” Willow pulled back. “How did you find me?”

He shrugged. “When I heard about Sunnydale, I started looking. I needed to be sure you were okay. I found Giles, and he told me where you were.”

“And you came.”

“And I came.” His eyes searched her face. “Is that okay?”

“More than.”

~~~~~

Arnold had lucked out with Rhoda, and he knew it. She had been twelve; he had been twenty-nine, and very aware that he had been second choice. Rhoda, however, hadn’t looked at him that way. She’d found the training fun, and she’d come to view him as an uncle. She had remained at home, unlike many potential Slayers, and her parents had viewed him as a member of the family.

Then the Bringers had come, and he and Rhoda had fled together in order to protect the rest of her family. Rather than making their way towards Sunnydale and the others, Arnold had decided to go to ground. It had seemed safer to present more than one target, although he knew that there was a certain truth to the idea that there was safety in numbers.

It had been his call, however, and Rhoda had agreed with him. In the months that they had been running, they had grown even closer.

He wasn’t supposed to be here; Arnold wasn’t the type to be sent to take care of demonic assassins, nor was he the sort to be asked out to dinner by an attractive woman. Strange, the paths that life could take.

“I hear you’ve got a hot date,” Rhoda said from the doorway.

Arnold frowned. “Where did you hear that?”

“Word travels fast around here.” She grinned at him. “It’s about time.”

“Oh?”

“Come on, Emrys. You haven’t gone out on a date once since I’ve known you.”

“The life of a Watcher—”

“Oh, don’t give me that ‘life of a Watcher’ crap,” she interrupted rudely, but with a smile that indicated she wasn’t entirely serious.

Arnold glared at her, knowing that his look was less than effective. “There wasn’t enough time to devote to a relationship.”

“And the right woman hadn’t come along yet,” Rhoda said knowingly. “It’s not that hard to admit.”

Arnold coughed, not wanting to admit that he’d never really had a girlfriend, not when he had men like Davis Klein in his year at the Academy. “Yes, well, I hadn’t quite looked at it that way before.”

“So, what are you going to wear?”

“Does it matter?” Arnold asked in surprise. “We share quarters, Rhoda. It’s not as though I can hope to impress her if I haven’t already.”

Her eye roll was eloquent. “Please. It’s the gesture, Emrys. You dress up, she’ll notice and appreciate it. Trust me, Zoë hasn’t dated that much either.”

“You can’t know that,” Arnold began, but stopped when she snorted. “Never mind. What would you suggest?”

~~~~~

Willow couldn’t believe how easy it had been to fall into their old rhythm. The Slayers were with Zoë, and so she had plenty of time to catch up with Oz. Leaning against him, while he leaned against her headboard, it felt as though no time at all had passed.

“How long can you stay?”

“That would depend on you.”

Willow sat up to look at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I can stay as long as you want me here,” Oz replied.

She took a deep breath. “The longer, the better, as far as I’m concerned. We could use your help.”

“Is that the only reason you want me to stay?” he asked quietly. When she hesitated, he added, “I know a lot has happened, and I’m not saying that this is going anywhere now, but—”

She put a hand to his lips to stop him. “Tara died, and I wasted a lot of time. I don’t want to do that again.”

“I never stopped loving you,” he confessed.

Willow pressed her forehead against his. “I know. I’ve always loved you.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes, and Willow relished the feeling of strong arms around her once again. “Why did you come?”

“I had to be sure you were okay,” Oz said simply. “When Giles told me that Tara—I had to see you for myself.”

“I’m okay,” Willow assured him. “It was—it’s been awhile, you know?”

“I know.”

“I still miss her, but I missed you, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She turned in his arms, burrowing her head in his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re staying.”

His arms tightened around her. “So am I.”