Fic: The Wolf Within (12/?)

[Erin <erin@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

TITLE: The Wolf Within
AUTHOR: Erin (erin@xxxxxxxxxxx)
SPOILERS: None, really.
RATING: PG-13 at worst, because of some violence. It is a
Buffy/Willow fic, so if that bothers you, or it's illegal to even
think of a Slayer and a Witch getting it on, then just don't read it.
Or move.
DISCLAIMER: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all characters belong to Joss
Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox. I'm just borrowing them for a bit.
I'll put them back when I'm done, no worse for wear (but maybe a
little happier). Most of the werewolf stuff is copyright White Wolf,
such as Garou, Crinos, Child of Gaia, Glass Walker, etc.
ARCHIVE: Currently, I believe my stories are being archived at the
following places:
Kim's Corner - 
http://www.fortunecity.com/village/villageplace/93/
Bill's Page -
http://members.spree.com/entertainment/kerrison29/default.htm
Gary's BtVS Fanfiction -
http://psycho.simplenet.com/fanfiction/index.mv?index+buf
Please let me know if I've left someone out, or if one of the URLs is
in error. Anyone who isn't listed here who wants to archive my
stories is welcome to, just let me know so I can add you to the list.
Thanks.
FEEDBACK: Constructive comments are encouraged.
SUMMARY: (Buffy/Willow) Willow discovers that there is more to her
than meets the eye, and it could tear her life apart.

Part the Twelfth

Buffy collapsed on the couch, letting out an exhausted sigh. After
Nichole healed her of her injuries, she felt like she could have
easily slept for a week; but she would've felt guilty for sticking
Willow with all the work of cleaning up Giles' house. Giles was out
arranging for a new front door.

Willow collapsed on the couch next to her. "Well, that was a chore,"
she said, wiping sweat from her forehead.

"Yep." Buffy nodded. "Next time we invite homicidal werewolves over
for lunch, I think we should move the party to the backyard."

"Speaking of which," Willow said, "well, not homicidal werewolves, but
werewolves anyway, Nichole and Chris aren't back yet?"

"Doesn't appear so. He said they had a lot of stuff to pick up to
help us with the trip." Buffy chewed on her lip, absently.

Willow rested her hand on Buffy's leg. "Worried?" She asked, thinking
she knew why Buffy was nervous.

"Yeah," Buffy said, covering Willow's hand with her own. "It's
just...I dunno, I'm not the outdoorsy type, you know? It's one thing
to wander around a graveyard for a few hours, and then wander back
home to sleep in your own bed. It's another thing to wander around
the woods with no idea where you are or what you're looking for,
exactly."

"You could...I mean, if you don't want..." Willow began.

Buffy shook her head. "No, I want to help you. I told you I'd go
anywhere with you, right? I'm just a little concerned, I guess."

"There's no reason to be, sweetcheeks," Chris said, flippantly. He
stepped through the doorway, a large cardboard box in his hands.
"Nichole and I have thought of everything." He dropped his box on the
kitchen counter, and helped Nichole set hers on the floor.

"So what do we get," Buffy said, rising stiffly from the couch.
"Tents, sleeping bags..."

"Chemical toilets?" Willow finished, hopefully. Hey, it was better
than the alternative.

Chris scoffed. "Please, you're a Glass Walker, none of that 'roughing
it' stuff for you. Some tribes send their cubs out into the
wilderness with just a swiss army knife; not us, though." He bent
down, and pulled out an amulet. It hung on a leather thong, and was
covered with runes which Buffy mistook at first for claw marks. Chris
tossed it to Buffy.

"And what does this do?" Buffy said, looking at the amulet closely.

"Well, since it would take way too long to hike through the mountains
to find this Gurahl--"

"Waitaminute," Buffy interrupted with surprise. "Mountains? How far
away is this werebear, anyway?"

"Um," Nichole looked at her feet. "Well, they tend to be secretive,
and there aren't many of them left..."

"Where?" Buffy urged.

Nichole mumbled something. Willow blinked in surprise. "The Cascade
mountains?" She said, her eyebrows nearly disappearing into her
hairline. "Aren't those in Washington?"

"Washington, Oregon, Northern California, parts of British
Columbia..." Nichole corrected.

Buffy sat down with a thud. Luckily, there happened to be a chair
nearby.

"But like I was saying," Chris interjected, "it would take way too
long for you two to travel there, so you're going to be traveling
through the Umbra."

"The what?" Willow asked.

"The spirit world. Our people use it a lot for travel, for communing
with spirits, for fighting the spirit bane allies of the Wyrm, that
sort of thing," Chris said. "Willow, you can travel there naturally,
as part of your Garou heritage; we'll teach you how tomorrow, before
you're ready to leave. But Buffy is going to have to use that amulet.

"While you're in the Umbra," he continued, "you won't get hungry or
thirsty. All your body functions will be suspended. Once you get
close to your destination, just come out into the physical realm." He
dug through his box and began pulling out equipment.

"Where is our destination?" Buffy asked. "Besides a mountain range, I
mean."

"I marked it on a map," Nichole said, handing a large wilderness map
over to Willow. "I was able to narrow it down to a general location,
no more than four square miles or so."

"That's comforting," Willow responded, faintly.

"Also, just in case, Chris and I picked you up some supplies.
Backpacks, some powerbars, water..."

"...Cell phone, and Global Positioning System," Chris finished, with a
grin. "Just in case you get lost."

"Um, won't we be somewhat outside cell phone radius?" Willow asked.

Chris held up the object in question. "It's a fetish, just like the
manacles. It's powered by spirits, so you don't need to worry about
range or batteries."

Buffy looked on, impressed. "You should really market those things."

"If I could figure out a way to mass-produce these, believe me I
would," Chris replied, regretfully. "But since they require binding
spirits, they have to be made one at a time."

"Looks like you guys have thought of everything," Willow said, playing
with the GPS.

"Everything except how to actually find the Gurahl," Nichole said.
"That's up to you."

* * *

Thraxuil paced the room, unable to believe his ears. This pup, this
Lost Cub was still loose; he had lost two warriors to her already, and
now he seemed to have lost a third. He turned to face the kneeling
Garou. "What happened to him?"

"The spirit banes were vague," Kraxthus responded. "He's not dead;
the banes were able to find him, but he is unable to respond to them,
unable to change form, and unable to escape into the Umbra."

"I see." His calm voice belied the rage that leapt to his eyes. "I
will not fail the Wyrm because of one little girl." You are a
failure... That inner voice, silent for so long through his string of
successes in leading this Hive of Black Spirals, began to surface once
again. He shook his head wildly, trying to stop the voice. You've
failed your Hive mates, you've failed the Wyrm, and you've failed
yourself, it said. It's only a matter of time before they find out,
and then you die... The fearsome werewolf known as Eater-of-Children
doubled over in pain, clutching his head.

"M...my lord?" Kraxthus asked, fearfully.

Thraxuil whirled around at the noise and knocked Kraxthus down to the
ground, massive clawed hands wrapped around his throat. "STOP!"
Thraxuil screamed, right into Kraxthus' face. "I won't fail the Wyrm!
If we can't bring the cub here, then she will die!" With one last,
bone-crunching squeeze, the werewolf rose to his feet, panting
heavily. "A pack," he said, already thinking of his next plan. "I
will send a whole pack after her. Kraxthus, tell the Hellfire Dancers
pack that I wish to see them." When Kraxthus didn't answer, the
werewolf turned, eyes finding the cooling body on the floor.
Sightless eyes bulged out of their sockets, staring blankly at the
rough-hewn ceiling.

Thraxuil backed up slowly, eyes searching the room. It certainly
wasn't the first time that one of his minions had turned up dead in
his throne room; he just wished that he could discover who the
murderer was, before he was next. "Show yourself!" He yelled, and
like the other times, there was no response.

Eater-of-Children growled, swallowing the paranoid fear he was
feeling, and walked out of the throne room. He would find the
Hellfire Dancers himself.

* * *

Willow looked around the back room at the Dream of Gaia, which was lit
only by early morning sunlight streaming in from the small window.
She shifted nervously, and felt Buffy's hand slip into hers, steadying
her.

They were as ready as they'd ever be, she thought to herself. They
had made sure to get a good night's sleep last night...eventually.
They had all their gear -- hiking boots, durable clothing, parkas, and
their backpacks which contained all the gear Nichole and Chris had
brought them the day before. Giles assured them that he could handle
patrols until they returned.

Nothing left to do, Willow thought with a stifled grin, except travel
through the spirit realm to the Cascade mountains, find a werebear,
and ask his advice. Oh, is that all.

Nichole brought out a large, dusty object which was covered with a
cloth tarp. It looked like a picture frame. When she removed the
cloth, Willow saw that it was actually a large, framed mirror.

"You will be traveling through the spirit realm," Nichole said, her
normally light voice now serious. "A mirror reflects our physical
realm, but distorts it. Similarly, the spirit realm is a reflection
of our own physical realm, but it too is distorted. The only way for
a Garou to step into the spirit realm is to step into, and _through_
the mirror."

Willow stepped up to the mirror, letting her fingertips touch the
cold, hard glass. "But...it's solid."

"You don't actually have to walk through the mirror," Chris said,
glancing at Nichole. "That's hyperbole. You use the mirror to shift
your perceptions so that your natural abilities as a Garou take over."
He glanced over at Buffy. "You are going to have to do this too.
That amulet will take the place of natural ability."

Willow stared at the mirror, seeing her own reflection and the
reflection of the room behind her. Her eyes unfocused, turning the
reflection into a barely distinguishable blur. Something pulled at
her now; instead of a mirror in front of her, she felt like it was a
doorway, beckoning her to step through.

Buffy saw Willow take a step forward, and vanish. Her eyes widened,
and she looked at Chris in shock.

Chris merely nodded, as if he expected it. "Now, your turn."

* * *

Willow looked around the unfamiliar landscape; there was just too much
to see, all at once. She felt lightheaded, like that strange detached
feeling she sometimes got when she was on heavy cold medication.

The sky itself was dark, although she knew it was daytime. Was it
still daytime? She wondered. But the landscape itself glowed, as if
from an inner energy. She looked around her, and realized that the
building that surrounded her was partly translucent. Everywhere, she
saw creatures -- they could only be spirits -- some zipping around
where telephone and electricity wires should be; some floating through
the air; and some, in the shapes of spiders, weaving pattern webs
around the buildings and any spirits slow or unlucky enough to get
caught.

And, most shocking of all, she could _see_ pollution. Everything that
Chris told her about the Wyrm, and Gaia...nothing had prepared her for
this.

She saw black, oily, dripping smog spirits drifting through the
streets, coating everything and everyone they passed with taint. She
looked down, through the translucent floor to where the city sewer
system ran. Small, hideous spirits ran through the tunnels. They
were covered in boils which periodically burst, dripping toxins onto
the ground around their feet.

She took a step back, hand covering her mouth in horror. She felt a
hand on her shoulder, and she jumped.

"Whoa, everything ok?" Buffy asked, concern in her voice.

Willow grabbed on to Buffy, wrapping her arms around her waist and
holding her in a close hug. She buried her face against Buffy's
shoulder, tears filling her eyes. "God, don't you see them? They're
everywhere, drowning everyone in poison..."

Buffy stroked Willow's hair gently. She looked around, her eyes
seeing the spirits that Chris and Nichole always talked about. Some
of them were quite beautiful, but others were disgusting and seemed
bent on corruption. It made her ill to see the toxins that permeated
the air she breathed, and probably the water she drank and food she
ate as well.

"Now you know why we fight the Wyrm," Chris said quietly, appearing
next to them. Nichole appeared a moment later. "If humans could see
what we see, there'd never be another debate about pollution, or clean
air." He sighed, looking at the spirit world around him.

Nichole fixed Willow with a sympathetic gaze. "This is the choice all
Garou must make -- to fight for Gaia, or ignore Her suffering at the
hands of the Wyrm. As you can see, for most of us it's not very much
of a choice at all."

Willow raised her head, and pushed back from Buffy's shoulder. She
cleared her throat, and scrubbed away the tears with the back of her
hand. So this is what the Wyrm really is, she thought. Not just the
mad violence of the Black Spirals, but the slow suffocation of the
world, burned and choked and drowned in poison. How could she hope to
fight it all? She thought with despair.

By fighting one Wyrm-creature at a time, she realized. By healing
those she could, and destroying those she couldn't, so they wouldn't
do any more harm. And she knew right where to start. There was
suddenly more at stake here than Oz's life -- the real contest was
over his soul.  

"All right," she said, gritting her teeth. "Let's get started."

END Part 12


-- 
Tara: "I am, you know."
Willow: "What?"
Tara: "Yours."
----------
"So Willow's not driving stick anymore. Who would've thought?"
-- Faith
*email: erin@xxxxxxxxxxx