Wish Upon A Demon
by UrbanGoth
Journey To Oz - Pt.2
[reviews]
NOTE: Sorry for the lack of update but it has been due to lots of working. I haven't been able to get to a computer for ages. But I shall try my best to make it up.
That is all.
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She lifted her head, which was spinning, and tried to clear her thoughts and vision. The brightest light had scored her eyes and the witch found herself temporarily blinded. [Oh noooo! It's not dangerous... Not at all.] The spell had been more powerful than she had anticipated and found its way to her nerve system, sending it on overload. She tried to quickly get to her feet, only to feel a hard bump on her head. [Well, that is gonna hurt tomorrow.] Willow rubbed her head absently and shifted on the floor a bit. Everything was so loud she couldn't differentiate between the noises.
Yet she soon found she wished for that privilage again.
Regaining her vision, she recognised the old factory in town, with new twists. Lots of twists. Vampire shaped twists. The factory was cold and had a lack-lustre smell about it, complying with the war that was passing as she willed herself to stand up, avoiding, maybe even glaring at, the wooden beam that had violated her just a moment ago. She figured the floor was possibly the worst place to be during this kind of party.
Everything raged around her as she viewed it sullenly. People were fighting and screaming and it was cold. Her hand found the fence behind as she stumbled into it, backing away from the hell she had woken in. Then, as in answer to some silent, subconcious prayer she had been reciting, the witch found the very person her sore eyes needed to see.
Leaning heavily against the wooden railing she stared at the young blond, who was fighting vehemently with fire and patience. Willow couldn't see anger in her punches, or rage in her kicks. Walking steadily, the slayer backhanded a vampire and he crashed into the hostages, knocking at least four people down on the way, then another two on his escape route. Buffy didn't even notice though. She just kept to path that took her to the Master. Go for the Mr. Big, he's in control. It was a good plan. A military plan.
But Buffy was never militant. She had always said the most important ones are the ones who don't belong here, the ones who don't know what to do or who to fight. The clueless, the lucky, the blind, the ignorant, depending on how her mood varied, she used different words. But never her initial attitude changed. She was a hero and the witch always felt that fear of losing Buffy in the fight because she didn't focus on it if any innocents were around. Willow didn't feel that fear of losing Buffy in the fight now. Somehow it had already happened.
The realisation played over in Willow's mind and she feared what world she'd walked into. Or... poofed into. There were bodies everywhere and the dank smell of blood and fear stained the cool Californian air, even during the Sun's reign. It took her back to when the Master once threatened to rise back home. She had walked into a room that felt like this world. It had felt like their world. This WAS their world. She may still be human but even Buffy wasn't really Buffy.
Suddenly, she was shaken.
"Wake up, ba... WHAT is that OUTFIT?" He stood in disgust. Willow, slightly taken aback, glanced over herself, seeing nothing different in her apparel. Her brow furrowed as she stared back at Xander, who was still frozen in confusion. Noticing a small hand diving towards his shoulder she jumped back against the fence.
"Xander look out!" He pivoted under the hand and delivered a hard blow to her stomach but she recovered quickly and scored a jab at his jaw with her right fist, rounding the hit with a swift left hook and finally kicking him to the floor. Confused, pissed off and being challenged by a cross bearing Giles, he gave in and ran out of an exit, looking back in game face at his Will. She stood dejectedly against the fence, staring between him and Giles, too shocked to cry. Giles, nodding slightly at her with an empty smile, shrugged his navy-blue jacket back on his shoulders and ran to rescue some more victims, still the hero, but a cold, battle-worn hero. Hpwever, she pushed it to the back her mind, [we have time to break down over this later on, Rosenburg], and cried out to her other friend. Business is calling.
"Buffy!" The slayer turned and looked at the strange redhead, taking in the bright clothes and obvious cluelessness.
"You're not from around here." It was more of a statement than a question so an intimidated Willow didn't respond verbally, just shook her head fiercely. Buffy peered curiously at the girl before her. She REALLY wasn't from around here and that pushed her buttons. The fact that she knew this shy, fuzzy, pink girl had seen something like this before hit them with a sledgehammer. All she had to do was figure out if this was a good thing or not.
Her ears picked up a wail. [Later then.] Picking up on her earlier pace, she began another long walk up to the Master.
Willow, slowly piecing together the world she had landed in, stopped thinking and ran to Buffy.
"Buffy, no! Don't!" The slayer didn't turn back to pass a questioning, not even irritated, glance. "Buffy!" The redhead grabbed her arm and spun her around. "Don't. This is not the way it happens. This is not how you die," the slayer heard. She began listening. "And, Goddess help me, if I can stop it happening at all, I will."
Buffy stood and stared down the girl, who, despite her earlier show of something less than bravery, stood alike, facing her off, near challenging her. And Buffy liked a challenge.
"Come with me." She finally said. Taking a firm hold of the young woman's wrist, she led her, a little violently, through the melée, stopping every now and again to dust another vamp, quickly and pun free. Willow, running on autopilot, jotted down a useless mental note.
[Punless Buffy. Scarier than a Tweedless Giles.]