Lies My Watcher Told Me
by Red
book 2
[reviews]
Lies My Watcher Told Me
book 2
Joss' folk.
BW...NC17
Summary: Giles has taken Willow to England for rehibilitation...Buffy has found out what exactly that entails and goes to stop it.
WARNING...VERY INTENSE FIC.....
+++++
Willow lay curled up on the hard floor, on her side, not daring to attempt to sit up or even roll over. Every inch of her backside burned, throbbed and ached. She was cold, freezing in the drafty old room which, held nothing but a toilet in the corner. It was barely bigger than a closet. She had been thrown in here upon arrival, naked, no blankets or even a pillow for her head. The clothes, she quickly discovered, didn't bother her. It took just one session for her to not want anything touching her back.
The first time, it was a member of the coven. An older lady, close to Giles' age. Willow had been taken to the room and strapped to the table. She had called for Giles...scared to death, everything hitting her...the guilt, the pain from the magicks...she had cried and begged for him. The woman had ignored her...said nothing as she reigned the whip down onto the witch's back, over and over.
After what seemed forever, the woman stopped and left...and that, was when Travers had come in.He told her how evil she was...how she really deserved to be killed...that the world would be a far better place without her in it. And Willow, for her part, had agreed, tearfully agreed, the pain, the guilt, raging through her body.
But Quentin Travers had told her he had other uses for her. She would be cleansed, broken and repaired to meet his own, personal, requirements. She would become his personal witch, to do as he ordered, for the rest of her life.
Willow would have rather been killed.
And that thought grew stronger every day, as she was taken to the room the moment the sun rose, beaten throughout the day, then tossed back in here when it set. She was fed just once a day...simple food...a peanut butter sandwhich...an apple...just enough to keep her alive.
You will be given meals when you have earned them, he told her.
And that, he assured her, would take a very long time.
After each session, a healer would come in and put ointment on the lashes, not to heal them, but to merely close the skin up. The pain remained, as did the marks. The scars would always remain, a reminder of what she was...of what she did.
As if her own heart wasn't enough.
Willow cried as she lay there, but the tears were less for the pain, more for what she had done...what she had lost.
Everything.
Xander, Dawnie, Anya...Buffy...she had lost her family. Even if she would be sent home, she knew she was no longer wanted there. Yes, everyone had been supportive while Giles had made the arrangments to bring her here. Xander had joked about getting a, my best friend tried to destroy the world and all I got was this lousy tee-shirt tee-shirt, and Dawn had even talked about how red was so more her color than black. Anya, of course, had scolded her without mercy for destroying the Magic Box, threatening her with everything from monkey back hair to a Celine Dion soundtrack playing permanently in the witch's head and insisting that they at least tie her up.
Buffy had been...well, Buffy.
The old Buffy she had missed so much.
While they sat in the slayer's living room, Giles in the kitchen making the arrangements, Buffy had sat next to her, holding her hand. Willow couldn't look at any of them, her eyes mostly staying on the floor. But she could feel Buffy's strength in the slayer's grip...firm yet, gentle, telling her it would be alright, that everything would be alright...that she would be alright...that THEY would be alright.
It had been more than Willow could bare and she had broken down into tears. Before anyone could blink, Buffy had the witch in her arms, holding her tight, stroking her hair and promising her it WOULD be ok again.
She could sense Buffy's pain but had no clue that the slayer's pain went deeper than what had happened. She had no idea that as she wept for her lost love, that as she began mourning Tara, her best friend's heart was breaking just a little bit more.
Willow had no idea that Buffy really, truly, did love her.
And Buffy had no idea that a large part of the guilt Willow was carrying, was because she loved Buffy. Because she was in love with Buffy. And that was guilt, she had been carrying since the day she met Tara.
The door opened and Willow came out of her thoughts, looking up to find Quentin Travers staring down at her.
"Take Ms. Rosenberg to the white room," he said.
Moments later, Willow found herself being carried out. She winced as rough hands pressed against her bruised and beaten flesh, fresh tears beginning.
Travers closed the door and followed...a sick smile on his face.
+++++
Buffy stared out the window of the plane, her heart in her throat. What if she was too late? What if...NO...no, she could so NOT allow herself to even go there.
"B? Yo, earth to B."
Buffy snapped out of her fear induced haze and turned to her fellow slayer.
"Sorry."
Faith put a hand on Buffy's shoulder. "She feels the same."
Buffy look at her as if she'd grown three heads.
"What?"
Faith smiled. "Red, she loves you, too."
Buffy pulled away and stood up, stretching her legs.
"Ok, you were nowhere near Sunnydale last week, so I don't know what the hell your problem is, but maybe you should grab a nap. They sure aren't going to be too happy to see you over here. You're gonna need all your strength to keep cool."
Faith grinned, throwing a leg up over the seat.
"I'm cool as cool can be, B...5x5, as ya know. And you, are changin' the subject."
She popped a cheese puff into her mouth.
"There is no subject, F," Buffy snapped.
Faith may have been reformed and back on the good guy team, but she was still annoying as hell. What was her problem? What the hell were they eating out in L.A?
"It's been, what, seven years almost? Don't ya think it's about time to stop playin' dumb blonde. I mean, how many times have you died? I'd thought after the second, at least, you'd have gotten your shit together." She grabbed her Dr. Pepper and drank.
"What, shit, are you talking about, Faith? What crazy fantasy have you worked up in that delusional mind of yours?" Buffy quipped, falling into the seat across from Faith.
"You and Red." Faith purred the words, grinning a cheesy, literally, grin.
"Willow's my best friend."
"Willow's the one you love."
"Yes, I do love her, she's my best friend."
"You're IN LOVE with her."
"She's...my...best...friend."
"She's...the...one...you...wanna...fuck."
Buffy's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. And that, made Faith grin even more.
"You are...where the hell do you...what is your..."
"Hey, I may be wrong about that. I'm sorry, B, I am. Ya know, once we get Red home safe and sound, I'm gonna see if she wants to come visist me for awhile...I can help ease her pain." The dark haired slayer winked. "I always did like her...those big green eyes, hair like fire, cute little tits, those long legs...I always wondered what they'd feel like wrapped around me...and that ass...mmmmm, I always loved that ass. I bet it's so good and tig-"
She was cut off my Buffy's fist smashing against her face.
Faith laughed, rubbing her jaw, her eyes on Buffy's. "No, no you're not in love with her, at all."
She laughed harder and got up, handing Buffy her pepper and moving to the front of the plane to talk to Wes, leaving Buffy alone with her thoughts. Buffy stared at the can of soda in her hand, her mind filled with a mixture of Faith's words and Willowy images.
She knew it was true. She had known it was true the first time she'd seen that sweet, shy girl sitting on the bench at Sunnydale High.
She had loved Willow from first sight.
She had been in love with Willow from first babble.
+++++
Giles looked up from his tea as Travers came into the room. The head of the council was wearing a smug smile and it made Giles' skin crawl.
"What have you done?" he asked.
"Rupert, you truly need to relax," Travers replied, pouring himself a cup and taking a seat by the fireplace.
"Never, while I am in your presence. What have you done to Willow?"
"I find myself having to repeat myself to you, Rupert." He took a sip of tea and swallowed. "Yet again, you have an unhealthy attachment to one of your charges. Only this one, you desire."
Giles growled lowly, his eyes on Quinten's. "Do not fuck with me, Quentin. You know better."
Travers remained smug. "You're forgetting who has the power here, Rupert. Allow me to remind you...it isn't you."
"And you are forgetting who, exactly, you are fucking with," Gilesr noted, his hand gripping Quinten's so tightly, the teacup actually shook.
"Now now, Rupert, put him away...save him for the girl. He isn't allowed out any other time."
"He's afraid of you, old man...I, am not. He believes your threats...I, do not. He won't take the risk...I, will." He squeezed harder. "What did you do to her?"
+++++
Willow was numb. The beatings...the cold, the hungry, she deserved it all...she had tried to kill the people she loved more than anything...she deserved to be punished. She had used magick...she had MISUSED...ABUSED her magicks...she deserved the currents of pain magickally injected into her...the flashes of seering torment fed to her.
But as much as she hated herself...as bad as she had been...none of it, was deserving of what had just been done to her.
Cleansing, purifying, ridding her of the darkened stench of evil...no matter what Quentin Travers called it, she knew what it was...rape.
Oz.
Oz had always been so gentle, so considerate. And Tara, with their toys...good ol' mister happy...she had always been so gentle, taking great pains to make sure her Willow was never hurt in any way...in any place.
She hurt now. The pain of the whip, the crop, paling in comparison to the pain between her thighs, the pain in her bottom. He had taken her fast and hard, brutally, over and over until she had passed out...the whole time, ranting about the evil she was, the cleansing she needed...how he was the only one who could give it to her...
When she came to, she was in her room again, the smell of her blood choking her. There was a bottle of water next to her and an apple. As hungry, as thristy as she was, she couldn't move.
All she could do, was cry.
And the one name that spilled from her lips as she did, was Buffy's.
+++++
The watcher formly known as Giles pinned the head of the council to the wall, his eyes burning a hole into the elder man's.
"How, exactly, did you carry out this, purification?" he growled, his grip desperately wanting to tighten around Traver's throat.
"Rupert, call him off or the girl dies...I mean it," Travers gasped, oxygen definately becomming an issue.
He smiled wide. "I am Rupert." He began to squeeze harder, but a sharp pain to the head sent him crashing to the floor and everything went dark.
Travers gasped for precious air and, after recieveing a significant amount, straightened his collar and nodded to his rescuer.
"Your timing is, as always, impeccable," he stated, smiling.
Ehatn Rayne smiled. "I do try."
+++++
"Buffy, I feel the need to remind you that the way to help Willow, is to remain calm," Wesley gently said, as they exited the plane into the warm, English sun.
Faith, dark glasses on, swaggered ahead of them, weapon bags in hand, but heard every word.
"Wesley, I'm here to get Willow...if I have to tear the head off of every damn council member there is to do that, consider it done."
The former watcher nodded. "I care about her too, Buffy...that's why I called as soon as I found out Rupert had brought her here.I only wished I'd known sooner...if only I hadn't been in New York..."
"Stop, this isn't your fault...there's only person to blame here...yeah, Will needs help, she's all messed up and boy, is she messed up. I still have the aches as to how messed up she is. But I can't blame her, Wes...I can't be mad at her...and I sure as hell can't hate her."
They stopped next to a black jeep and she looked up at him. Through the dark glasses she wore, he could see the tears. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"I know you can't. You love her, Buffy."
The slayer nodded.
"Yeah, I do."
"In the, IN LOVE with, I wanna fuck you all night long, way."
They turned to Faith, who was loading the weapons into the trunk, grinning like a cheshire cat.
Wesley felt his face flush slightly. He would have thought working by Faith's side for nearly two years would have made him immune, however he had no such luck.
Buffy smiled at her fellow slayer...a real, genuine, truth filled smile. "Yeah, the in love with, wanna...do naughty things with all night long, way."
Faith laughed and they tossed their personal bags in, got into the car and headed for the council's country estate....where they handled, rehibilitaions.
to be continued.....