FIC: Of Human Bonding [3/5] - Through The Darkest Night

[HD Genscher <HD.Genscher@xxxxxx>]

This is the first new part. Enjoy!


TITLE: Of Human Bonding [3/5] - Through The Darkest Night
AUTHOR: HD_Genscher (hd.genscher@xxxxxx)
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: B/W
SPOILERS: for "Spiral"
DISCLAIMER: All characters and places belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 
et al.
ARCHIVE: HD's Fan Fiction Archive, http://www.wiffy.de/hdffa/
FEEDBACK: If you liked it, I'll appreciate your feedback. And if you didn't 
like it, it'll help me a lot if you point out what I did wrong.
---


OF HUMAN BONDING


Part 3.  THROUGH THE DARKEST NIGHT


It was all Anya's fault.

It was all Xander's fault.

Or Willow's, or Giles's, or the monks'.

Or her own.

If Anya hadn't called Dawn "pure, green energy" in the worst possible 
moment, revealing her true nature to the Hellgod they knew as Glory, if she 
wouldn't have been brainwashed in the first place because she and Xander 
wouldn't have fought over whether or not they should go to that damned Arts 
Fair...
Buffy glanced at the former demon, sitting on her left on the backseat of 
Ben's car, absent-mindedly tugging at the bandage protecting her broken 
mid-hand, then at her boyfriend, who was driving.
The monks certainly were to blame--if they hadn't turned the Key into her 
sister, none of this would've happened. If Giles would've been more 
reluctant to give in to her plan to flee from Sunnydale, these damn knights 
wouldn't have had a chance to almost kill him.
Her watcher was half sitting, half lying in the front-passenger seat, 
unconscious most of the time, either due to the loss of blood, or the pain, 
or the drugs Ben had injected him.
If she wouldn't have been blinded by her concern about the ones she loved, 
she would've seen that leaving the cover of their hometown wasn't such a 
good idea...
And finally, if Willow--Buffy gulped hard, but the limp in her throat 
wouldn't go away--if Willow, her lovely, beautiful, fighting-like-a-lioness 
Willow wouldn't have attacked Glory when she suddenly appeared at the 
abandoned gas station, if she would've left this duty to her, the Slayer... 
they'd most likely all be dead by now.
If, would, had... This wouldn't take her anywhere, Buffy thought and sighed.

It seemed easy to blame someone, anyone, for the mess they were in, 
tempting even. The temptation to blame herself had been overwhelming for a 
moment--when Glory took off with Dawn, Willow just sat on the ground 
motionlessly, and there was nothing she could do about it, but she had 
resisted it, knowing that without her leadership, everything was lost, and 
everything she'd fought for in the past years with it. Together, they had a 
chance to beat Glory, but she'd need all of them, even Spike--who had to 
take the trunk during their ride home because there weren't seats for all 
of them in Ben's car.
But most of all her friends and allies (she wouldn't go as far as calling 
Spike a friend), she needed Willow--her center, her guide, her lover, the 
one easing the weight of the world that was lasting on her shoulders--and a 
very powerful witch who'd been able to at least hurt Glory at more than one 
occasion. Buffy turned to the redhead, who was sitting on her right, and 
slowly caressed her cheek, hoping to evoke a reaction from her. But Willow 
didn't move, didn't react at all to her surroundings, ever since she'd 
fought Glory.
As the car sped through the darkest night, bringing them back to Sunnydale, 
Buffy recalled the recent events.

The fight was unlike anything Buffy had ever seen before, and if a Slayer 
said something like that, it certainly meant something. Willow threw spell 
after spell at the Hellgod, causing the ground to shake, at the same time 
blocking Glory attempts to hurt her, or anyone else. Her hazel eyes, filled 
with dark mojo, turned black, and Buffy still shuddered inwardly at the 
disturbing and frightening sight. Still dazed from the blow she'd received 
from Glory right at the beginning of the battle, all she could do was watch 
in awe and fear as good fought evil, compassion and love fought hatred and 
death.
Willow's face turned into a distorted mask from exertion as she tried to 
put a kind of paralysation spell on Glory. The Hellgod was somehow 
resisting it, but the witch obviously didn't want to give in, tried to put 
all the power she had into maintaining the spell. It almost seemed as if 
the veins in her face were turning black, at least for a moment, and the 
witch's hair tips were darkening, when, with a sudden desperate motion, 
Glory fought off the spell, sending the witch staggering backwards and 
against the wall. Sensing that this was her chance to retreat, moving much 
faster than the eye could see, Glory grabbed Dawn and slammed through the 
barricade they'd erected at the door, taking half of the front wall of the 
derelict building with her. Then she was gone, and even more terrifying 
than the thought of her sister in the hands of Glory was the sight of 
Willow slowly sliding down the wall into a sitting position on the floor. 
The death cries of the Knights of Byzantium told her that it was rather 
imprudent to go after Glory now if she didn't have a burning desire to join 
their fate, so Buffy crawled over to her girlfriend instead. The witch's 
impact into the wall hadn't been that hard, not hard enough to cause any 
internal damage even for someone who didn't have Slayer constitution. But 
Willow didn't move, and her gaze was fixed on an invisible object at the 
opposite wall. Buffy felt as if her heart had been ripped out of her chest, 
leaving a large hole filled with fear.
"Willow, are you alright?" she asked her lover, while she examined her body 
for injuries. She found none.
"Willow, you're scaring me!" she shouted, snapping her fingers in front of 
the witch's face. Willow didn't even twitch.
"Willow, please..." she finally pleaded. But Willow, the lover she'd only 
found recently, didn't answer.

A single tear rolled down Buffy's cheek, but she wasn't willing to give up, 
not until she'd tried everything in her power to get Willow back, to get 
Dawn back, and to stop Glory. Maybe Willow was just overexerted, and after 
a little rest, she'd snap out of her current state of mind. As long as 
there was hope, there was something worth living for.
A plan began to form in her mind.

"Xander, after you've dropped us at Revello Drive, you'll bring Giles 
directly to the hospital," she instructed.
"Okay, Buffy." Xander answered, not taking his eyes away from the road, and 
Buffy noticed the serious tone of his voice. A while ago, her friend 
would've answered with a funny remark, but the recent events obviously had 
affected him as well.
"I'm gonna need Giles' help to cure Willow, so let's hope his injuries can 
be taken care of rather quickly. I'll take care of Anya and Willow while 
you're gone."
They drove past the sign welcoming them to Sunnydale, and to Buffy, it 
seemed like pure derision.

**


Giles returned at daybreak, a large white bandage covering his left 
shoulder and a part of his chest. After making sure that no major arteries 
had been injured, his wound had been cleaned and stitched up, and finally 
he'd received a transfusion to compensate his loss of blood. The medical 
personnel in Sunnydale's hospital were used to cases like this: strange 
wounds, and lots of anaemic patients. They were quite experienced in 
treating those cases quickly and effectively, and that was the reason why 
the wounded watcher was allowed to leave the clinic after a little more 
than five hours. Knowing that the Slayer was expecting him as soon as 
possible, Xander had driven them back to Revello Drive immediately after 
Giles' discharge.
"Giles! Are you alright?" Buffy greeted him as he and Xander entered the 
Summers' home. She was sitting opposite of Willow in the living room. 
Obviously, the witch's state hadn't changed in the past hours.
"Yes. A little stitching, and my shoulder's as good as new," Giles 
answered. "I'll have to renounce doing anything that might interrupt the 
healing process, though, and I'm afraid this will include fighting a 
certain Hellgod."
"At the moment, I won't need your fighting skills, Giles. I need your help 
with Willow."
"What exactly happened to Willow?" the watcher asked, while he tried to 
take off his jacket with his good arm. Xander, who'd gone upstairs to check 
on Anya, entered the room again and offered to help him.
"I'm injured, not crippled, you know," Giles told him with a slightly 
bitter undertone. Without answering, Xander helped him out of his jacket. 
"Thank you, anyway," he added. "I remember that she and Glory fought, and 
it was one hell of a fight..."
"Glory managed to break her spell and took off with Dawn. Willow staggered 
and bumped into the wall, and ever since, she's been like this," Buffy 
explained and looked sadly at the witch, who was sitting and staring 
without any sign that she was perceiving anything that was going on around 
her. She took her girlfriend's hand into hers and slowly stroke it. Giles 
moved over to where the two girls were sitting. He knelt down in front of 
Willow and alternately shone a small flashlight into each of her eyes.
Buffy held her breath while the Englishman examined the redhead.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Her iris reflexes are intact, but her eyes don't follow the light." He 
demonstrated this with his flashlight. "I'd say she's in a state of mental 
shock, perhaps from the amount of magical power she's used. Or maybe she 
severed her link with this world to protect herself from the effects of 
Glory breaking her spell. I don't think that Glory did any physical harm to 
her. From what we know, she'd need direct physical contact to achieve that."
"So, you're saying that somehow her brain shut off reality to protect 
herself?" Xander asked, trying to grasp the essence of Giles' explanation.
"Precisely."

"What can we do to help her?" Buffy asked.

"If I'm right and it is in fact a self-induced stupor, you could try to 
communicate with her directly, mentally," Giles continued, and took off his 
glasses.
"Telepathic communication? This isn't Star Trek, Giles!" Xander said.

"Xander, please." Buffy was willing to clutch at every straw, although she 
wasn't very convinced of the watcher's proposal herself.
"It might seem like something from a science fiction show on television, 
but I assure you that it's possible," Giles said and used his handkerchief 
to clean the glasses.
"Why me? I-I haven't done anything like that before," Buffy replied. 
"Wouldn't it be better if you..." Her voice trailed off.
"I can't, Buffy. Only someone very close to the person in question has a 
chance to enter their mind."
Buffy contemplated this for a moment.

"Okay, I'll try," she finally said.

"Erm, you meant close as in 'close' close, right?" Xander asked. Giles 
darted him a desperate look and nodded, then put his glasses back on.
"He sure did, Brains," Spike said from the door as he entered the room, a 
bag of blood in his hand.
"But what's the fuss about the witch, anyway? She gave herself a brainwash, 
so who cares?" he continued.
At the moment he'd finished, Buffy was over at his side of the room. With 
one arm, she pressed him hard against the door frame while she placed the 
stake she always carried with her on his chest, right above his undead 
heart, with her other hand.
"No one says something like that about my girl. No one!" Buffy growled with 
a dangerously low voice. "Not you, Spike, not anyone. And although I'd like 
to end your miserable existence right here and now, I can't because I need 
you in the battle against Glory."
"Calm down, Slayer, and put away that stake. You might actually hurt 
someone..." the vampire just said with an ironic tone.
Buffy just glared at him angrily, not moving an inch. Instead, she made 
sure that Spike felt the point of her stake just a little more.
"I didn't mean it, okay?" Spike finally offered. "Get over it!"

"Oh, I know exactly how you meant it. I just hope you'll know how I mean it 
when I shove that stake through your heart..." Buffy replied as she 
released the vampire and put away her stake.
"Now that was fun... Some blood, anyo...?"

*Pooof*

"No one!" Buffy repeated softly.


**


After vacuuming the floor in the living room, Buffy carefully carried 
Willow upstairs and into their bedroom, where Giles and Xander had prepared 
everything they'd need already. Two large armchairs were standing opposite 
of one another in the middle of the room now, within a circle of white sand 
just being finished by Giles as she entered. Several candles illuminated 
the room with a warm and cozy light. Buffy put Willow down in the one 
chair, then sat down in the other.
"I'll be downstairs," Xander said and walked to the door.

"Thank you," Buffy replied and smiled at her friend.

Xander closed the door, and Buffy could hear his footsteps in the hallway, 
not down the stairs, but over to the right. Obviously, he was checking on 
Anya first.
"What do I do now?" Buffy asked nervously and looked at her lover, who was 
sitting in her chair indifferently. 'I'll help you, baby,' she thought. 'I 
promise!'
"Take her hands."

Buffy took the witch's hands into hers, and noticed that they were sitting 
so close to each other that their knees almost touched. Now their hands 
formed a circle as well, just like the sand around them. "What's the use of 
the sand?" she asked.
"You're untrained, you're not used to focusing your thoughts on a specific 
spot or being, like a trained witch or warlock is," Giles explained. "With 
the circle's help, I'll redirect your stray thoughts back into the confined 
space in whose center you're sitting. But it will help a lot if you try to 
focus on Willow, both physically and mentally."
"Yeah, but how?"

"Close your eyes, and... think of her, or... or of something you two 
shared, perhaps a mutual experience..." the watcher instructed.
"O-kay," Buffy said, drawling the word. Then she closed her eyes and 
thought of Willow... tasting sweet, soft Willowlips kissing her in the 
desert... touching warm, white Willowskin while making out in the jeep, the 
rain pattering on the windshield... caressing wet, red Willowhair after 
they got soaked to the skin on the walk from the car to the house...
A flash of light interrupted her stream of memories, and she opened her eyes.

'What the...' Buffy thought. She was no longer in their bedroom, in her house.

She was in a very familiar room, a room they'd almost spent three years of 
their lives in. A bright late summer sun was shining in through the small 
skylights, bathing the bookshelves and the books on them in light.
Buffy was standing right in the middle of the library of long gone 
Sunnydale High.


To be continued in:

Part 4, "Bound"



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"It's a good fight, Buffy, and I want in."
"I kinda love you."
Buffy & Willow, 'Choices'

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