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Apocalyptic Reflections II : Memories

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Summary: Good and Evil are finally fighting it out, will humanity survive the fight? the first part is achived in the Non-crossover section of the archive.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Charmed > GeneralVampieGirlFR132328,425012,60130 May 0422 Oct 04No

Apocalyptic Reflections II : Memories

Title: Apocalyptic Reflections II : Memories

Author: VampieGirl & JSaintG7

E-mail: Alethea731@aol.com or VampieGirl@yahoo.com

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: B/S, W/S, A/C, W/K, X/An, Fr/G

Spoilers: BTVS: up to just after Lies My Parents Told Me (S7) Ats: Up to Salvage (S4) and Charmed: (S5)

Summary: Good and Evil are finally fighting it out, will humanity survive the fight?

Disclaimer: Buffy, Willow, Xander, Giles and Angel don't belong to me they belong to Josh Whedon, WB Fox and all those people; sadly, we just borrowed them for a little fun. We have no imagination, so sue us.... wait, don’t. We’re kidding. But Stephanie and Lucinda Thwaite are ours.

Author’s notes: IMPORTANT!!! This will make no sense at all if you haven’t read Part 1. I have re-jigged the timeline to make a few things fit but it will go totally AU after Ats: Salvage, Btvs: Dirty Girls.

I know that this has alerady been posted but i was just going through it and i realised that it haddent uploaded properly there wher huge gapeing chunks missing out of it hope fully this will sort it all out.

****

Part 1

St Mary’s

Oxford England

Ironically, it was a rather sunny day in England, but freezing with a strong wind with a sharp bite. Steph tried to shake off the feeling that the weather was mocking her, but it seemed appropriate after everything that had happened, so she chose to accept it. Her mother’s funeral had started at eleven in the morning, but people were still arriving. Lucinda stood there with a small smile of thanks plastered on her face as she accepted condolences from people she didn't even know. She felt an incredible irrational surge of anger at the people as they walked by. She showed no outside expression; save for the imitation of a smile that graced her cheeks, but inside her heart was being torn apart.

she thought surprisingly to herself, for she could feel the tell-tale breaking of her heart as each person gripped her hand and murmured words of grief. Each comment a reminder of what her mother was; not is. The past tense was killing her, each time she heard 'was' or 'could have been' she felt like dropping to her knees and screaming until her lungs felt like burning up. She just squeezed her younger sister’s hand harder only to feel her squeeze back.

The smile was long gone from her face now her face was completely expressionless. Nothing was there. Just like in her heart. She yelled at herself. As she finished berating herself, she realized that the once steady stream of mourners had dried up.

Startled, she looked around and saw that they were already seated, waiting patiently for her to join them. Too tired to feel any embarrassment at her lack of attention, she just slowly but steadily strode towards the casket. Everybody had thought that it would bring closure; she just wanted to lay her to rest.

Steph stared blankly at the casket; she placed her hand on the solid wood and wondered whether her mother was actually in the coffin. The police had had to identify her from dental records after the explosion. The police had said something about old pipes and a faulty boiler. The explosion had demolished the whole building and severely damaged those around it, killing everyone in the building and a few passers by for good measure. Lucinda felt her sister tug slightly on her arm indicating that they should take a seat.

Just as she had seated herself, the priest began speaking in a deep and melodious voice. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to morn the loss of Deirdre Thwaite who is dearly missed especially by those she took under her wing..." Steph began to phase out everything around her in the hopes that she could live in the delusion that she was not even in existence. First the hypnotic sound of the priest, then the sobs of the mourners, then the traffic, then the breaking of her heart... but the wind remained whistling around the old church.

Despite the warmth of the church the frost seemed to have penetrated the thick black Duffel coat she had on, nevertheless; the wind still managed to permeate through her clothes as she followed the parade to the crematorium on the other side of the park. It was not that she minded it; it was comforting to feel something, so long as it wasn't painful. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed.

She looked around her at the mourners. She barely recognized a single face; her mother hadn't been that social, so who were all these people? No matter, she figured, this wasn't for them, “...may she rest in peace, Amen," finished the priest and the curtains closed and she was gone.

"Excuse me ma'am, but we need to get moving now," said a short balding man. He was shielding his eyes from the sun with the other. The deep green overalls he had on combined with his short stature gave him the appearance of a gnome. Steph had to squelch the urge to laugh hysterically at the man.

When Steph looked around she noticed that she was alone again, save for her sister and the attendant. Without responding, she slowly stood up. As she did, a tear leaked from her eye down her ashen face and dropped off her chin and onto her black cotton blouse, where it was absorbed without a trace. , she thought morbidly. The undertaker's face went soft and he hesitantly reached out and gripped her forearm.

"I'm gonna say to you what I have said too many times before; it isn't going to be easy, but it's gonna be as hard as you make it to be. It was a down right awful thing for this to happen to a young girl like you, but no mother wants their children to live in the past. Get some closure and move on," he said with a quiet sincere voice.

"Thank you," Steph whispered with a small smile on her face as she patted the hand that was resting on her arm. Gently she removed it and turned towards the front of the graveyard and began walking, leading her sister away from this place.

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