Blood Letting
by Valyssia
Near-Life Experiences
[reviews]
I'm shameless, nameless, nothing and no one now. But my soul must be iron for my fear is naked. I'm naked and fearless. But I'm dead inside.
Buffy stirred from a deep sleep, stunned to find herself at home in bed with Willow curled up tightly at her side. What the hell happened? Searching for fragments of the night prior, all she could find at first was a grizzly image of a battered woman. How can that be it? No. She struggled to clear her mind. Caressing her witch's back, she stared blankly at the ceiling. As she tucked a lock of damp hair behind her ear, it hit her. Willow bathed me. She carried me up here and—it felt like when—gentle and loving. Like when I was a little girl.
What time is it anyway? Eleven o'clock in the morning. Day twelve and Buffy's losing it. Knew it was coming. The whole 'vampire soul' thing...the reason it's so rare, my guess, not so much that it's hard, more like we're supposed to be monsters. Humanizing us makes us go crazy. And who would bother to record, 'Yeah, ensouled this vampire last week and she went off the deep,' 'specially if that little story ended, 'and killed us all.' We're not supposed to feel shame, sympathy, fear, remorse... What good is a monster that snaps a bone then feels ashamed of doing it? Or compassion for the person it did it to? Goes all broody and blushy and glowers in the dark looking like a goth pity party.
Carefully moving Willow aside, Buffy rose and made her way to get dressed. Opening two dresser drawers, she pulled out panties, a bra, and an undershirt. Putting the items on as they were haphazardly selected, she looked down at herself. I used to care about this crap. Now I can't even look in a mirror, and, if I could, I'd spend all my time crying. Monsters aren't supposed to fucking cry. That's why most people believe we don't. Wait, that's it. I was crying in the car. Willow was driving. Shit! Did Faith see me cry? Amy? Fuck! Figures I'd ruin a perfectly good myth. She shook her head and suppressed a bitter laugh.
I know...I'll wear my angora sweater today. Severe shot of normalcy... That'll really scare Faith. Maybe she'll keep her mouth shut and, with any luck, not stare at my tits. Buffy closed the dresser drawers and made her way to the closet. As she pulled a cobalt blue angora sweater over her head, the final piece hit her. 'Torture makes you just like them.' She pushed the sleeves of the sweater up to her elbows and arranged the open neck to show the least amount of scarring. Nice of that bitch to leave me so I could almost wear something like this without the looks. Monsters don't want your pity either. A low growl issued from her as she slipped into a pair of jeans and fastened them.
Buffy pulled sandals onto her feet. Maybe I'll get Jonathan to wash the car today. It could use it. Wandering into the bathroom, she ran a brush through her hair and brushed her teeth.
I am just like them, though. What makes me different? I beat the holy living hell out of that girl last night. Left up to me...it mighta lasted days. How am I so unlike them? Just 'cause I got a redemption manifesto from a greasy little demon; is that the different? Doesn't seem like enough. Is it 'cause I feel bad for some of the stuff I did? If so, what a joke that is... Not like it's slowing me down. Well, that's enough introspection before coffee.
Buffy exited the bathroom and crossed the room, grabbing her cigarettes and lighter. She pulled a smoke from the pack and lit up. As she set off out the door, she pocketed the items. Moving briskly through the house to the kitchen, she was grateful to find coffee, and somewhat less thrilled to find Faith. Nodding absently at the canned greeting the slayer issued her, she put a finger up to indicate 'wait' and poured herself a mug. Taking a drink, she noted, "Not until I've had at least one sip."
Beckoning Faith to follow, she made her way out the kitchen. Silently leading her to the conference room, she tapped a piece of wooden molding on the back wall. It swung out revealing a hidden lever similar the handle on an industrial freezer. As she pulled, what looked like a vault door opened, moving the paneling with it. "Panic room. Former owner was a real nutjob," she offered, motioning for the slayer to follow.
"Nice to have money and a dash of paranoia," Faith commented dryly as she moved into a space that looked to her like a bomb shelter. "Wouldn't know about the money. Slaying doesn't exactly pay well."
"Figured. You've been wearing the same clothes since you got here," Buffy remarked as she set her coffee on the counter and put her smoke in the ashtray. Pulling a large metal panel open on the back wall, she fiddled with a dial for a moment, opening the safe door. "Look at the monitors and you'll see the areas of the house that are actually covered. Mostly the outside, main rooms and halls," she offered. She removed a bound stack of hundred dollar bills from the safe and closed it, spinning the dial.
Faith eyed the stack of money. "Can I ask you how?"
"You can ask," Buffy remarked snidely as she took a seat in one of the two office chairs in the room. Picking up her cigarette, she took a drag and slid the money between herself and Faith. "Couple of the baddies we offed over the years were loaded. You'll remember Glorificus. Bitch was set."
A skeptical look washed over her face as Faith asked, "So why you showin' me this?" She took a seat in the other chair, meeting the vampire's gaze.
"Two reasons. Reason one: I want you to answer a question for me honestly—and trust me when I say I'll know if you're lying. Reason two: I want to buy that video," Buffy teased, sliding the money closer to Faith. She took a sip of her coffee then asked, "You in?"
"You want a video of me—?" Faith said, half choking on her coffee.
Buffy snickered and raised an eyebrow. "A thousand times, 'no.' " Chuckling softly to herself, she prompted, "You in?"
"You have a better chance of seein' God then seein' me naked, but shoot," Faith replied frankly.
"Not wanting to see you or God naked," Buffy retorted. Taking a drag off her smoke, she added, "Here's the deal. I'm pretty used to buying info and that's what this is... What I want to know is simple: why?"
"Why what? Can't help you with the sky bein' blue or the meaning of life. Ask Red. Seems more her area," Faith answered, smiling broadly.
Darkness fell over Buffy's features as she asked pointedly, "Why are you sitting here with me? I mean, you said it yourself, not more than forty-eight hours ago...mortal enemies, remember?"
"I'll give you that one free of charge. Not hard... Hope," Faith remarked dryly. Sipping her coffee, she took in the incredulous glare she was getting from the vampire, and said, "Look, you asked, B. See, that's all we got—us mere mortals—and you, 'princess,' have given us a reason to do it. I know as well as the next how stupid it is. Still, can't help it."
"'Kay... Thanks for the straight answer," Buffy replied, unable to suppress a laugh. Mirth still played at her features as she concluded, "This'll really mess you up then." She pushed the pile of money to Faith, "Take it. What I want—show me the things you like the best about this awful little town. There's a digital video camera in the rec room. Anyway, buy some clothes. I'm guessing that you lost pretty much everything when Giles' place was torched."
Faith picked up the stack of money. "Uh, B.? You're aware there's ten-large here?"
"I can read. No slayer of mine's gonna go around looking like that." Buffy laughed again as the slayer gave her a scornful glance. "Look, Faith, I spent five yesterday on having some gross old gypsy get laughed out of the store by Will. I can spend it here and not have a smelly slayer. It's a public service...trust me."
Placing the money back on the counter, Faith met the vampire's stare. "I know I'm gonna regret the hell outta this later, but keep it, B. Way I got it figured, you really want one of three things." She held up one finger, "Rid of me 'cause of last night...all you need to do is ask, I'll bail—it was messed up for all of us." She let out a deep sigh. "I don't wanna talk about it either." She counted a second finger, "You wanna buy my friendship or loyalty—they're not for sale, you'll have to earn 'em." The third finger raised, "Or you feel sorry for me—and frankly, I want your pity as much as you want mine." She dropped her hand and, after a moment of quiet reflection, added, "What I like about this town can't be filmed."
Buffy blinked as she watched the slayer take the seat opposite her again and look back expectantly. "You're totally right about part of that. I do want to be alone. House is big enough I could do that, and it'd be one hell of a lot cheaper than this. Here's the thing though: I don't feel sorry for you; don't really give a crap whether you like me either," taking in the dubious look Faith was giving her, she amended, "'Kay, so, in all fairness maybe I do, but—"
"So what's that leave us?" Faith remarked, pretending to do the mental math. "This is an actual act of kindness from the evil dead?" she said unable to restrain a snicker. "And more with the hope," she added wryly.
"Don't you dare," Buffy snarked. Shooting the slayer a warm sunny smile, she stated in a straightforward manner, "Look, Faith, right now you've got choices: none of them are easy or good. This one is. Take it if you want. It's not pity, it just is. I can, and I won't miss it."
"You know you're insane, right?" Faith teased, offering the vampire a warm playful smile.
Buffy shook her head and smiled sardonically. "So I've heard," she replied in a soft pensive voice. Rising from her chair, she left Faith and the money behind.
***********
As Buffy reentered her bedroom, juggling two hot cups of coffee, she couldn't help but chuckle. Her witch was wearing a simple-but-elegant, green paisley skirt and cream colored blouse, sitting on a stool in front of the dresser applying makeup. The 'mirror' she was using for the task was her laptop. Crossing the room, she deposited the cup on the dresser. "Cute, Will," she commented, leaning up against the dresser to watch.
"I suppose. Not very fun though. It occurred to me that you were always careful around cameras and cellphones," Willow remarked offhandedly.
Buffy took a sip of her coffee then offered in a dry voice, "A good monster wants to stay hidden. Adds to the fear."
"You're not a monster, Buffy," Willow chided. Holding her hand steady, she waited for the choppy web camera to catch up so she could gauge her next action. "It's only the digital stuff that works, right? I mean, makes sense: no mirrors in the camera. The image capture's all handled by light sensors. If it bends light, it shows."
Buffy nodded, intoning an aloof, "Uh-huh," as she realized Willow was paying no attention to her.
"Would you mind—I mean, would it bother you if I got a flat display and a digital video camera for the bathroom? The 'no mirror' thing—it makes me a little crazy," Willow asked pointedly, pausing to allow her partner to comment.
"I don't care. Put them on the switched outlet so—" Buffy affirmed. Taking another sip of her coffee, she suppressed the temptation to assist with what looked like a nerve-wracking task. Lot more patience than I'd have, even if I cared.
"Funny, technology finally managed a way around the magic of the curse. Can you imagine not seeing your own face for hundreds of years? It's about the disconnection of self. You become more of a monster 'cause you forget what you really are," Willow reflected in a soft pensive voice.
Buffy chuckled softly. "I don't have to imagine. I haven't seen myself in at least five years."
"Why? I mean, you knew you could," Willow queried, appearing somewhat surprised.
Watching her witch try to do eye makeup in the choppy display finally got the best of Buffy. She snagged the mascara out of her hand, and gently turned Willow to face her. "'Cause that part of me died. I mean, look at me, Will... I can't even wear a short-sleeved shirt without—" she commented bitterly while she helped her partner finish her eye makeup.
"Been looking and I think you're amazing," Willow remarked matter-of-factly. Placing a finger to the touch pad, she closed the camera application. Opening a folder, she selected an image file and double-clicked it. A picture of a sleepy looking Buffy with her fist to her temple popped open on the screen. "You were camera shy, so... I had to be a bit sneaky," she offered with a hint of mischievousness in her voice.
"How old is that?" Buffy asked, glancing briefly at the picture.
"Umm... Years; like, three or so," Willow stated truthfully.
A dry humorless laugh escaped her. "I would've killed you for that if I'd known," Buffy remarked in a cold voice.
Willow rose from the stool and put her arms around her partner. A warm smile affected her features, "It was worth it," she commented silkily.
"So why the dress up?" Buffy whispered as she wrapped her arms around her witch.
Dropping her hands to Buffy's waist, Willow leaned back enough to make eye contact. "Same as last time: going to the hospital to visit Amanda. I'd like it if you joined me," she stated in a soft careful voice.
"Amanda?" Buffy queried.
With effort, Willow maintained impartial mannerisms as she answered, "The potential."
***********
It was like dragging a mule, Willow reflected as she placed the bouquet of flowers on the nightstand near Amanda's bed. She watched Buffy silently take a seat. Sitting next to her, Willow said in a gentle voice, "Not so bad is it?"
"Sure, Will, whatever. I can't help but think it might be kinder to kill her..." Buffy replied, tapering off to a voice barely audible at the end of the statement. Tilting her head, she looked at the thin face of the young woman. Should I think she looks better? How stupid is that?
"That's the coward's way out," Willow whispered harshly. A supple smile played at the witch's features as she offered, "I looked last night while you were sleeping. She's a tough one: couple of disciplinary actions for fighting. She lived 'cause she wanted it."
"Who the hell are you people?" Amanda asked weakly. Cracking an eye, she tried to focus on the strangers in her room.
"Friends," Willow offered simply. Rising from her chair, she said, "I'm Willow, this is Buffy. She's gonna stay with you while I get your parents, 'kay?"
Buffy stood up and stretched. "I'll go with you, Will. Parents, definitely not my scene." So gonna bail... Just need a foot out the door.
"Wait," Amanda said, meeting Buffy's gaze. "You didn't answer. Who are you?"
Shit! Well, not gonna be mean either. Kid's had her share of the badness...and more. "I've been trying to figure that out myself. Seriously—" Buffy retorted candidly. Moving over to the bedside, she added, " 'Friend' works, I suppose. For lack of anything better." Peering down at the puzzled look on the young woman's face, a soft grin infected the vampire's features. "Don't stress... It's cool. I'm gonna bail."
"You're like them, but not," Amanda remarked bluntly. Pausing for a moment to consider how to put the thought into words, she settled on simply stating, "Okay, so, this is gonna sound totally weird, but I don't think you want to hurt me."
Raising an eyebrow, Buffy considered, perceptive. "No, not looking to hurt anyone. Not now, at least," she answered directly, turning again to leave.
"Before you leave, could I ask you something?" Amanda queried in a weak flat voice.
"Suppose," Buffy said, not bothering to turn back.
Her breathing wavered for a moment as she steadied herself, finally Amanda asked in a shaky voice, "Why?"
Buffy didn't need to ask for clarity; she could feel the changes in the young woman's emotional state from across the room. Amanda was anxious and confused. "'Cause that's what monsters do," she replied in an arid voice, sweeping out of the room as she concluded.
***********
The faintest of glows still lit the western sky as they made their way inside the ruined vineyard. Passing through the main room, Buffy led the group to the trapdoor. Back down the rabbit hole, she considered, her gaze fixed on the spot where Willow had lain the night of the failed spell. Lifting the door, she ushered the others in. Once they were all past, she climbed down the ladder herself.
Willow stood in the middle of the room with three large bags of supplies. "Grab candles and help get this place lit. Faith, please put the scythe on the altar. Dalton and I both think we should try to replicate the night— Anyway, Faith and Buffy, we can help with that."
Faith smirked as she placed the scythe. "So you say you're not sure?"
"Ever done this?" Willow replied frankly.
"Not yet..." Faith offered in a reassuring tone. Collecting a stack of candles, she moved to one of the crags in the wall and began to light them.
As the others worked their way around the room lighting candles, Willow took the final bag over to the altar. She removed six Thesulan Orbs and several bunches of herbs. Dividing the herbs six ways, she placed a portion into each of six large, brass incense burners. Marking a circle to consecrate the space, she placed an orb and a burner at equal increments around the circle. As the others joined her she pulled out an athame. "Ready?" she asked in a dry voice, meeting her partner's gaze. "I'm not sure whether the blood magic element is needed, but it can't hurt. Hell, I'm not sure about any of this 'cept the need to try."
Buffy simply nodded as she opened the palm of her hand with the blade. Briefly resting the wound on the blade end of the scythe, she flexed the hand to work the blood up, passing the knife off to the slayer when she finished.
Without hesitation, Faith ran the athame across her palm. "Here's to tryin'," she remarked as she grasped the stake end of the scythe with her bloody palm. She handed the knife back to Willow and took a seat in the circle.
Removing the final candle from the bag, Willow lit it with Buffy's lighter. After putting the flame to the pile of herbs in front of her, she passed the lighter and candle to Buffy.
Buffy lit the herbs, then watched while the candle made its way clockwise around the circle. From Amy to Faith to Giles and finally to Jonathan who licked his fingers and put it out once his herbs were ignited.
"Alright... This isn't so much a spell as it is a ritual," Willow instructed. Pausing a moment, she clarified, "It's not a list of things we're supposed to do with a set outcome. Just focus your intent on what we're asking for. The Powers know what we want. Omniscient—they've known for days unless they're napping...and somehow that wouldn't surprise me."
"You know, pissing them off—not actually helpful, Will," Buffy chided playfully.
Willow fixed her gaze on the orb in front of her as she commented, "Sorry, not forgetting about the frog." She glanced curiously at Jonathan when he winced on hearing the word 'frog.' Sighing softly, she peered back into the orb and focused.
Giles found himself staring at the scythe. Who had the nerve to paint such a fine weapon? It looks like a bloody sportscar. In fact, I had a Triumph TR6 back in my Ripper days nearly the same color. It couldn't be more garish. Taking in the scathing glare the witch was giving him, he turned his eyes down toward the orb.
Listening as Giles began to incant the spell, Buffy almost rolled her eyes. Will's right. It's a prayer. Even sounds like mass in Latin, and I couldn't care less about Catholicism. Only reason I have a clue is 'cause of the whole 'cross and holy water' thing. Knowing they can hurt you sorta raises the curiosity.
Doing her dead level best not to fidget, Faith stared into the fractured orb in front of her. Magic, so not my thing. Can I be excused now? It'll be funny as hell when the first one asks for a piss break. Bet it comes to that. Red doesn't even think this'll work. Well, score one for the watcher. Spell's a dud, she reflected as Giles tapered off and fell silent.
An eerie stillness passed over the room as each one of the circle began to settle and do as instructed.
Unable to take anymore, it was Buffy who spoke first, breaking the forced quiet. She wasn't at all surprised when the people around her jumped. "Look, I'm really sorry. I'd take this all back if I could. Looks like I'm just causing you guys— Seems the story of my unlife: hurt people, cause pain... Sometimes without the trying," she whispered to the room at large not moving her gaze from the orb in front of her. Guess the Powers want more blood—more pain. So much for the benevolence. A single tear slipped down her cheek. Wiping her face absently with her index finger, she stood up, placing the finger on the scythe. "You can have that too," she remarked bitterly.
As she turned her back to leave, movement caught her eye. Spinning on heel, Buffy watched the scythe hovered into the air. Oh, gimme a break. Contrition? That was the big fix? A little instruction mighta been helpful. Here I've been feeling like shit for days, and— Oh well... She slipped back into the circle beside Willow and shrugged.
Faith looked over at the redhead and asked, "Why's the blood not flowing?"
"They didn't want blood." As Willow fell silent the scythe began to glow so brightly she had to turn her gaze to the floor. The orb in front of her began to rise. She glanced around noting that all of the orbs seemed to be doing to same.
Jonathan chanced a look up. Squinting his eyes, he managed to get enough of a picture to assess what was happening above them. The orbs were moving rabidly in a circular pattern around the scythe which hung perfectly vertical in the center, each taking a different path. It looked to him like electrons circling the nucleus of an atom. Peering straight up again to take another glance, he noted that the speed was increasing, and with it the level of light. It would be impossible to look at soon. They should be hitting the ceiling. Arc's wide enough. Wonder what the hell's up with that? I just hope there's no UV or we'll be carrying Buffy and Willow out of here in a dustpan.
Doubling over in pain, Buffy snarled, "Shit! Not this again." It felt like her body might combust at any second. She could sense movement around her, but was too disoriented by the excruciating torrents of pain to know who or what.
Willow wrapped arms around Buffy as she began to surge with light. Pain like fire washed over her in waves as she made contact. If you're taking one—better make it two. Not letting you have her—not alone.
Jonathan turned to look at the two vampires as they huddled together. Their bodies were lit by a fiery radiance that seemed to ripple off them and connect with the spinning mass overhead. He squinted, attempting to look up again. Half blinded by the glow from around the scythe, he quickly averted his gaze, feeling as if someone had thrown sand in his eyes. The pulses are coming from that. Or are they moving the other way?
Sensing the movement dying down around her, Faith chanced a glance up. Oh, that's wicked, she considered as the burst of radiance cascaded up through a hole in the ceiling. That wasn't there before. Her attention fixed on the ball of light as it sped up into the night sky. It seemed to hang overhead, growing progressively smaller. Finally, it burst apart like a huge firework, splitting off into a massive starburst, but the smaller balls of light didn't peter out like a firework would, they continued until they disappeared from view. Her attention shot back to her surroundings as the scythe clattering down onto the altar in front of her. These chicks really know how to throw a party. Nothin' small. She looked over at the two vampires who were curled on the floor together. Still in one piece. "B.? Red?" she asked tentatively. Making her way over to the pair, she shook Buffy. "Buffy? Willow?" she prodded again, adding a bit more volume.
Amy joined in the attempt to rouse the two vampires. "Checking for a pulse would be sort of foolish, wouldn't it?" she commented wryly
Jonathan looked up at the round gaping skylight once before joining the girls. "I think they're down. Let's get them out of here. They're not ash so—as signs go—pretty much a good one," he remarked pensively.
"I concur. Faith, I'll get Buffy if you can carry Willow?" Giles offered. Stooping to pick up the blond vampire, he rested her on his shoulder in a fireman's carry.
"Lead on," Faith confirmed, tossing the redhead over her shoulder.
Amy picked up the scythe and followed while Jonathan ran ahead to get the trapdoor. There was minor drama involved in getting the vampires up through the small trapdoor until Amy grabbed each of them and levitated their bodies using magic. The act left her feeling like she needed to be carried too.
A bit more hijinks ensued over the location of the keys to the Trans Am. Faith finally frisked Buffy and located them. She was half afraid the vampire would wake up as she cautiously fished them out of her jeans pocket. Arriving at home with no further issues, Faith carried Willow and Buffy up to bed one at a time. She was even kind enough to remove their shoes and leave the keys. Both things, she felt, went way above and beyond. "Sorry for the entering without knocking, B.," she muttered as she closed the bedroom door.