Stuck In The Feedback Loop
by Jamie
Stuck In The Feedback Loop
[reviews]
Disclaimer: All hail Joss and the Mutant Enemies. Plus anyone else who's bought into Buffy. The song '3rd and Long' is by A New Found Glory. I don't own any characters, or if I do, Joss hasn't told me yet.
Buffy's fingers on her left hand darted around the fretboard like lightning whilst her other hand brought the plectrum up and down rhythmically. She glanced around at the other members of the band on stage, Nick on drums, Alyson on bass, and David on support. She quickly looked up as she neared the end of her intro, and moved closer to the microphone.
"Pick up the, pieces that I've, left behind, I woke up to-day feeling older, and never so much better!" She sang as the intro ended, strumming a constant sound on her guitar. She looked out over the dance floor at the people twirling and weaving in the mass, dancing and enjoying themselves. "I know I talk in circles, I never wanted to avoid your, con-ver-sa-tion. You see yourself in my eyes another day has passed us by..." She continued, her mind focused on Nick's beat flowing through her veins and guiding her arms. She worked in perfect synchronicity with her friends, at times it was as if they were one. The next two minutes seemed to fly by, until Buffy finally reached the end of the song. "Time grabs me, by the shoul-ders, no one knows how it feels to move over, I know I'm still far from you-and it feels like I'm still far from home..." As the sound of her guitar echoed through the amp, and the final beat of Nick's drum reverberated throughout the Bronze, the entire club erupted in applause. The band lay their instruments to one side and left the stage, smiles etched onto their faces and a skip in their step. Another band took their place, the beginnings of a slow, dark, haunting melody beginning to play in contrast to the group's previous punky style song. Buffy sat down at the bar and ordered a coke by herself, the others had people to see and things to do, but that was okay with her. She liked being alone anyway — it gave her time to reflect and think on things more than she could normally. Strangely, this noisy, chattery environment was more tranquil to Buffy than the silence of her room.
Half an hour and three cokes later, she decided to leave. She retrieved her guitar from the stage and slipped it into its bag before slinging it over her shoulder and leaving. The cool night air brushed against her bare skin, exposed more than a little by the thin-strap top she was wearing. As she walked down the street she was aware of someone following her. She gradually began to pick up speed — Sunnydale had a notoriety for missing persons, and horrific murders. Her breath billowed out in front of her, hot and panicked as she could hear growling coming from a few meters behind her. She broke into a run, but almost immediately she was smashed to the floor by something leaping onto her back. Buffy hit her head on the hard pavement, and barely registered herself being flipped over. She fought against the oncoming darkness that threatened to engulf her vision, but almost immediately wished she hadn't. A man was straddling her hips, but not any man she'd ever seen before. His brow was feral, his golden eyes glowed dangerously, and long sharp fangs protruded from his swollen gum. His breath stank of...copper? Blood? He looked Buffy up and down whilst sniffing the air, his snarl turning into a grin.
"You're pretty," A hoarse voice growled. "Maybe I'll play with you for a bit first." Buffy whimpered as his rough fingertips wrestled with the strap of her top until it snapped off. She closed her eyes and a tears rolled out of the corners. Suddenly the weight of the thing was gone. She opened her eyes and saw a flash of red hair at the periphery of her vision. As she blinked away the tears she saw a girl, maybe a bit taller than her punching her would-be-rapist/murderer. He groaned under the force of her unrelenting assault and stumbled back against the wall. The girl reached into an inside pocket of her jacket and stabbed the thing with what looked like a sharp bit of wood. Buffy gasped as the man's skin crumbled into ash and fell to the floor as his skeleton disintegrated. The redhead stared for a second before whipping round and running towards Buffy. The blonde began to breathe heavily again and skittered backwards on her hands and feet.
"Hey...hey! I'm not gonna hurt you!" The girl cried out after Buffy before grabbing her arm and lifting her up. "Are you alright?"
"That man, he...he..." Buffy stuttered, looking at the spot where the thing had disintegrated.
"He's dust, forget about it." Red said soothingly, before hooking her finger under Buffy's chin and tilting the blonde's head to one side. "That looks nasty," She said, observing Buffy's cut on her head where she'd hit the pavement. "Come on, I know a place where you can get cleaned up. I'm Willow by the way." Red...Willow said before taking the blonde by the hand and leading her off.
"B-Buffy..." She said unsurely, her body and common sense screamed at her to run away, to leave this strange girl behind and to not stop until she got home, which is probably why she did the exact opposite. Buffy let herself be lead through the winding streets of Sunnydale, until the reached the High School. Once inside the pair made their way to the library, where the lights were strangely still on.
"GILES!" Willow shouted, eliciting a crashing sound from somewhere in the stacks. Willow smiled as a dishevelled man made his way out, rubbing his head and re-adjusting his glasses.
"I really wish you wouldn't do that Willow." He said softly with a British accent. He glanced at Buffy worriedly. "Are you alright young lady?" He asked, already going into the book cage to get a first aid kit. "What happened?" The last question seemed to be addressed more to Willow than Buffy, so she let the redhead answer.
"She was attacked outside the Bronze earlier." Willow said nonchalantly. Giles returned with some gauze and disinfectant. Willow poured the liquid onto some cotton wool and Buffy hissed as she dabbed at the wound with it. Within seconds she'd stopped and was already applying a small plaster — the cut must have been smaller than the English librarian originally thought.
"That...that thing that attacked me. You killed it." Buffy said, looking at Willow.
"Uh huh." Willow replied, just as detached as she had been before.
"What was it?" This time Willow looked at Giles. He glanced back at her, as if the two were communicating silently.
"She has a right to know Giles." Willow said. Giles looked at her for a bit longer before nodding and sighing. He motioned at a chair next to a large oak table.
"Have a seat please Miss..."
"Summers, Buffy Summers." Buffy provided, sitting down and holding the plaster to her forehead.
"Miss Summers, thank you." Giles replied, before also taking a seat. Willow sat next to him on the desk. "There are things in this world Buffy, things which the world at large has no idea exist. There is an underworld operating here in secret, yet blatantly obvious at the same time." Giles explained slowly. Buffy shifted in her seat uncomfortably.
"You're drug dealers?" She asked. It seemed to be an obvious progression.
"Most certainly not!" Giles exclaimed. He regained his previous composure quickly however, and continued with his narrative. "The creature that attacked you earlier, for instance, is one of these things. They have inspired legends, myths, and stories throughout history, but have been relegated to just that, legends. What the Human race seems to have forgotten is that every legend has a basis in fact. Contrary to popular belief, this world did not begin as a paradise. For untold aeons Demons walked the Earth. They made it their home. Their Hell."
"Demons. Right. You're all *on* drugs!" Buffy shouted.
"Think about it Buffy," Willow suddenly broke in. Up until now she'd been silent but she jumped off the table and walked over to the blonde. "The weird occurrences, the murders, disappearances. There's a reason for it, and that reason is the demons." Buffy didn't know why, but she didn't run from the library at that moment. She didn't shout, didn't cry, didn't make sarcastic comments. She just believed. After looking into the eyes of this young girl, she saw the truth laid out before her in its purest form. She exhaled slowly, and relaxed a bit.
"Okay, so how are you involved in this?" She asked, looking at Willow and Giles in turn.
"Willow is the Slayer. One girl in the entire world born with the strength and skill to hunt the Vampires. It is her sacred charge, and one which she has embraced. I am her Watcher, a person chosen to guide the Slayer, and to train her. To be her dependent and confidante in times of need. But most of all, to be her protector." Giles finished. "I understand that this is difficult for you to accept, but please know that we do not wish for you to help us. You would end up dead, or worse." Buffy was silent for a moment, taking this all in.
"You can't tell me all that you have, and then ask me to just forget about it. I know what goes bump in the night now, I know that the monsters under my bed? They're probably real! So don't tell me I can't help. I have to. Besides, I may have skills which could help." Buffy said heatedly, flustered and slightly irritated.
"Such as?" Giles asked, giving his glasses a cursory polish.
"I'm a witch." Buffy said simply. "I've been studying Wicca for about four years now, I'd like to think I could help with that."
"We'll see." Giles said. "But for now, I believe it's quite late. I'll give you two ladies a ride home." Buffy didn't argue, she felt exhausted, and probably looked it. For the first time since her attack she remembered her guitar, and unzipped its cover. The pegs on the head were broken off and two strings were snapped. She could count at least two chips in the body as well.
"Damn," she muttered under her breath. "Now I'm pissed."
The car journey passed in relative silence as Giles stopped off at Willow's house first, then Buffy's. She said goodbye to the librarian as she stepped out of the car and closed the door, before walking quietly up the path. She was almost home free when Giles' car suddenly backfired, and a light came on from the second floor.
"Shit," Buffy cursed, and glared at Giles. He shrugged apologetically and sped off, not wanting to see the wrath of Joyce Summers firsthand. The blonde slid her key into the lock and turned it, but the door wasn't opened by her. She was greeted with the sleepy face of her mom, a sleepy face that looked neither peaceful nor forgiving.
"Buffy Summers!" She said angrily, in her hushed tone that meant she was really pissed. "Just what time do you think it is?"
"Past my bed time?" Buffy half-asked, half-joked. Her mother looked as if she was about to say something, but then her eyes fell to Buffy's ruined top and torn guitar case.
"Oh my god, what happened?" She asked, bringing the smaller blonde inside. She shut the door and led Buffy into the kitchen.
"It was...nothing," Buffy said, looking at the floor briefly. "I kinda fell off the stage."
"Oh," Joyce said quietly. "Well, I guess it's better than being thrown off."
"Guess so..."
"Do you want me to fix you anything? Some soup, a snack?" Her mom asked, already plugging in the blender.
"No thanks mom, I just wanna go to bed." Buffy replied. "G'Night."
"Good night, Buffy." Joyce said, then sat back on the kitchen counter. [I]Rock music[/I], she thought as she watched her daughter slump up the stairs exhaustedly.
Buffy stumbled into her room, shut the door behind her and practically collapsed onto her bed. After half a minute or so of lying there she scrounged up the effort to get changed into a T-shirt and do her teeth. Finally, after long minutes, she climbed underneath her sheets and pulled them around her, reaching one arm out to flick the switch on her bedside lamp.
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