Summary: Whistler fills in a few more details...
Notes: Many thanks to those that reviewed! You caused me to do my happy dance. Which we will not go into at this time... This takes place during Part IX of 'Did somebody say something about not fading away?' while Willow's doing her goddess in training thing. All Hail the Goddess Willow!
Disclaimer: Were I to own it, then rich would I be. But I do not, therefore, poorness does abide...
EXISTENCE Part II
"...Now, where'd that bottle of scotch go?" Whistler looked around, searching for the bottle, finally spotting it on the counter behind him. He poured himself a stiff slug and downed it, then poured another for the both of them.
Kennedy, who was certainly drunk, but not so drunk that she couldn't understand what Whistler was trying to tell her, stared at him with bleary eyes. "So. Why're you tellin' me all this? Seems like this'd be more Giles' territory. Or maybe Andrew. Willow woulda loved this shit..." She scrunched her face up as she thought about her lover.
Her dead lover.
She gulped down her shot, hoping the burn of the alcohol would somehow take her mind off what had happened. It didn't. Not this time, not any time she'd tried this for the past two weeks. The two weeks since the light of her life had been taken from her.
"Well kid, it's like this: The Darkness is comin'. No two ways about that. And you and all your buddies all have pivotal roles to play. But there's this one player, the key player, that's gonna need your support."
"A key player, huh? So Dawnie's in the hot seat again, huh?" Kennedy drawled as she somehow managed to keep her hand from shaking while she poured another shot.
"Huh? Oh, sorry, no. Wrong key. Ya see, it's gonna take all of you, but you'll basically be backing her up."
"Umm... Well, there's this Goddess type person that's gonna be doing the hard part. You'll be backing her up." Whistler was studying his glass intently, unable to look Kennedy in the eye.
"Goddess, huh? Swell. So what's so tough about what she has t' do?"
"Stop multi-universal armageddon."
"Oh." They both downed another shot.
"Yeah. 'Course, seeins' as how she's new to the whole 'Goddess' gig, it's all pretty iffy. She's up there now, trainin' up. Pretty steep learnin' curve, though. She's scared. Hell, we're all scared. But that's why she's gonna need your support."
"My support? How the Hell am I supposed to support a Goddess? I can't even make myself stay sober anymore!" Kennedy threw her glass against the wall, where it shattered loudly causing Whistler to flinch.
"Because, Toots, you're her kite-string. You've kept her grounded when she needed it, been there for her at her worst, and you're the only one that can help her get through the Hell that's gettin' ready to come down around your ears. She was offered the choice, kid. She coulda gone on to her reward. God knows she earned it. But she chose, she chose to come back. To come back down here to keep fightin' the good fight. She turned down heaven 'cause she still wants to help." Whistler's expression was a mix of disbelief and respect.
Kennedy sagged back in her chair, stunned realisation playing over her face. "You mean..."
"Yeah, kid. That's exactly what I mean," Whistler said quietly, all sarcasm gone, his voice filled with sympathy instead.
Kennedy closed her eyes, and when she next spoke, it almost sounded like she was praying.
'To thee no star be dark...'