Flood
by Valyssia
The Redeeming Things
[reviews]
I thought I was high, and free. I thought I was there, divine destiny.
Willow peered into the distance, her gaze fixed on the limits of the car's headlamps as her passenger began to drift languidly out of sleep. Uh-boy...here it comes. Several minutes passed, allowing her to breathe and continue the ongoing process of psyching herself up before the blonde cracked an eye. There's nothing I can say, so how about the obvious? I mean it is after one a.m., so... "Morning," she offered cheerfully. I'm right! Sighing despondently, she began to search through her purse without taking her attention from the road. Darn tootin' I'm right! Let her throw a hissy fit. Her madness and meanness doesn't change the rightness of me.
Buffy grabbed the seatback and lifted herself to a sitting position while the car slowed. Her eyes narrowed, then she hissed dangerously, "Morning?"
Willow pulled the car over onto the shoulder and put it in park, flipping on the hazard lights. Before speaking, she turned sideways in her seat, taking in the dark, angry look on the blonde's face. "Buffy, I totally get the mad, but if you think I'm gonna let you do this—" she held up the ring box Joyce had given her "—you've completely lost the little bit of 'it' you had."
Buffy's face sagged for an instant, quickly turning venomous again. "So, you're answer was to, what, run away?"
Sighing impatiently, Willow shook her head. "You must not get me at all, Buffy. When have I ever done anything without planning? With the careful research and the reading...and sometimes I've even been known to use a computer," she explained curtly. She ran her fingers through her hair before appending, "Besides, 'run away' sorta implies people not knowing where you are. Everyone knows, so...'run away'...not so much."
The angry expression was overshadowed by concerned disbelief. Taking a deep breath, Buffy asked, "What exactly do you mean by 'everyone'?"
"Pretty much everyone: Giles, Xander, Angel, your mom, all the people that matter most. And I know you're gonna think it was like this huge conspiracy—well, maybe not, but you might—it wasn't. It's just..." Willow replied, sighing miserably before she added, "We love you."
Anger won the struggle for dominance and Buffy snapped, "So lemme get this straight: all these people love me so much that they let you drug me and throw me in a car?" Growling impatiently, she continued to rage in frustration, "Y'know, there's a word for that: 'kidnapping'...I'm not so much kid-like though—'abduction,' maybe? Where the hell are we, anyway? And whose car is this?"
Willow shut her eyes tight, listening to the tirade. When her friend fell silent, she offered careful, patient answers. "Yes, and actually" — her eyes fluttered open — "Angel gently placed you in the car. Your mom stayed to give you a kiss on the cheek. You make this sound like it was something easy and mean—something we did to you. It's something we're doing for you, Buffy." Pausing to cover a yawn, she listed the last two responses, "We're about ten miles from the border—umm...of Arizona that is. The car belongs to Angel," adding for good measure, "He donated it. Lots of people donated stuff to keep you safe. It's my job to not let them down."
Watching her friend stare pensively out the side window of the car into the dark desert, Willow finally broke the silence by asking, "Would you like to be in front here with me? I mean, if you promise not to hit me, I'll help you move. It's not like we've got a long way to go, but—" She stifled another yawn. "I wanna stop at Quartzsite for the night. If you'll calm down I promise I'll tell you everything."
"I'd never hit you, Will. It's just—" Buffy replied, "And yes, I'd like you to be upfront with me," giving the redhead a wicked smirk.
Ignoring the bitter pun, Willow got out of the car and came around to the passenger side, opening the door. After sliding the seat forward, she joined hands with the blonde and helped her stand using both magick and muscle.
Once stable, Buffy grabbed the open door and the seatback and used her upper body to lift herself into the front seat.
Watching cautiously for a moment to spot the blonde if she needed help, Willow started back around the car and climbed inside.
After lifting her lame leg into position, Buffy shut her door and reflected, "Y'know this whole 'saving me' trip...it's sorta sweet and all, but there's a tiny problem—just a little one. The council's not gonna let a crippled slayer live. That's the biggest reason—the reason I was willing— Trust me, it's not that I wanted to die."
Searching through her purse, Willow pulled out two bottles of pills. "It's a little past time for your medicine. Let's take care of that first. There's a thermos at your feet with mocha in it—should still be hot. If it isn't, I tried."
Buffy smiled as she leaned down to get the thermos. Finding a travel mug as well, she poured herself a cup and took a sip.
After turning on the dome light, Willow shook a pill out of each bottle and passed them to her friend, then put the bottles away.
When Buffy was finished taking the pills, she looked expectantly at the redhead.
Gesturing to Buffy's mouth, Willow asked in a flat emotionless tone, "Lemme see."
Buffy rolled her eyes before opening her mouth.
"Under your tongue," Willow prompted.
Letting out a sigh that more resembled a hiss, Buffy opened her mouth and lifted her tongue.
Satisfied, Willow flipped off the light and put the car in gear, commenting as she stared to drive, "'Kay, it's not that I don't trust you. It's that I don't trust you with this."
Appearing slightly hurt, Buffy remarked, "I get it, Will," and took a sip of her coffee. "Thanks for the mocha," she mumbled, returning her attention to the black void outside the car.
"You're welcome."
"Y'know I have to wonder if part of this isn't 'cause you're in love with me," Buffy reflected in a voice just above a whisper. When no reply was offered, she continued, "This isn't the sanest thing I've ever seen. Not that I've seen it all. I'm not even sure that means a lot coming from me, but—" cutting off to snicker, "See, thing is, the first time's just different, or so I hear. Not like I've got a bunch of experience with only the two, but I fell hard with Angel. And we both know that love, it makes you do the wacky." She paused dramatically, "And this, this is definitely 'the wacky'."
Willow replied distantly as she focused on driving, "That's a great theory. One problem—" falling silent to force a prompt.
"Yeah, Will?"
Casually lowering her grip on the steering wheel, Willow reflected, "Nothing changed. I was always 'in love.' I didn't want to admit it at first, but I couldn't say 'no,' the word just wasn't there. I wanted that night. I didn't even have to consider it. It took me a while to realize why. The 'why' was love—more than 'best friends' love."
Willow diverted her gaze just long enough to glance at her friend, taking in the look of mild shock before she continued, "Of course, it's because I'm in love with you—" she snickered wryly "—but there's lots more—reasons, I mean. The first thing: Giles and Wesley have been working all week on a possible solution. I don't wanna get your hopes up, but they're like seriously researchy and coming up with some interesting stuff."
Buffy started to speak, "But the doctors say—" only to be cut off by the witch.
"That's natural, Buffy. I mean, they did all they could with the surgery. The rest is natural healing, what your body can do on its own. That is except the drugs you've been refusing to take. There's some stuff here to reduce the swelling you really should've— It might set you back a little," Willow offered, sounding mildly exasperated, "Have you considered there might actually be something else? Like something supernatural?"
Buffy nodded vaguely, back peddling to catch up. "Wait! Did you say Wesley?"
Willow glanced over to take in the confused expression on her friend's face and giggled. "Wesley's with us now. I didn't believe it at first myself, but tonight sorta convinced me. He donated five-thousand dollars to the trip and didn't want to know where we were going or who we'd be. Only your mom knows the 'who' and the 'where'."
"He did what?" Buffy gasped.
Willow cracked her window, welcoming the chilly breeze the whistled in the thin slot. After metering her breathing for a few moments to stave off the sleepiness, she calmly replied, "You heard me. He had the most available cash that wouldn't be missed so he put in the largest share. Wesley's from a pretty rich family. We had to do this so no one would notice—or, I guess I should say, the council wouldn't notice." She could feel a marked difference in her friend's demeanor. The rage was almost entirely gone. It had been replaced by a sense of jaded curiosity. After taking another deep breath to clear the fog, she remarked, "I found a spell."
"What—er...huh?"
"I found a spell to share thoughts. Thing is—well, I sorta found a couple. If you can be patient—" Willow yawned deeply "—I'll share everything with you when we get settled for the night. Thing is, right now, with the driving and trying to stay awake—"
"I gotcha."
Willow offered, "Yeah, we'll be—it'll only be about thirty-forty minutes tops. The only thing" — glancing over to see her friend nod — "the spell I wanna use... There are a few warnings. It's not bad stuff. It just says that it's complete. Anything you think or feel is shared, so it's really intimate." She fell silent to allow the blonde to comment. When nothing was offered, Willow continued, "I just don't want to hide from you anymore. Lying to you—hiding the truth—it made me feel icky."
Buffy leaned her head against the cool glass and closed her eyes before agreeing, "Alright, Will, if that's what you want."
"It is."
***********
Grateful to be out of her prom dress, Buffy lay on one of the two double beds in the room, staring up at the ceiling. I feel so useless. I can't even help Will with the luggage. It's so weird for me. I should be the one doing that stuff. I'd never feel it. Instead I get to watch her struggle and make three or four trips. And that's just the small stuff. But then isn't it always the small stuff? It's like it piles up.
Buffy scooted into the middle of the bed, pulling her lame appendage over manually, as the redhead entered with the final load. At least I can sorta dress and bathe myself. Gesturing vaguely to her injured leg, "Will, did you?" she asked when her friend passed by to get ready for bed.
After pausing to listen, Willow shifted the duffle she was carrying, appearing puzzled.
Trying to wipe the embarrassment off her face, Buffy stammered, "It's just...it was almost empty and—well..."
"Oh," Willow gasped, then continued to explain in an unaffected tone, "Oh, yeah...I did. I stopped at a rest area and it just—it seemed like the thing to do. I mean, we're sort of gonna have to get used to relying on each other for this to work. That's why I wanted to go to P.T. and O.T. with you. It might not have looked like I was paying attention, but—"
Buffy wasn't sure how to feel. She watched the redhead grin sheepishly and disappear into the bathroom. I'm not sure how much of this I can take. Not being able to pee like a normal person is one thing, but having your best friend play nurse, totally different. And it's only gonna get worse.
When Willow reentered the room, she was wearing navy and red tartan pajamas and carrying their prom dresses. Once the dresses were hung in the closet, she went back for the bag and returned seconds later to set it with the pile of luggage. After moving to the end of the bed, she reflected in a soft voice, "'Kay, so... we're gonna have to be in contact for this. Is it okay if I—?" She gestured to the bed and mumbled, "The only regret I have is this. It's just so—" appearing bashful again.
Buffy replied, trying not to be insensitive, "Will, it's not that big a thing. Just come here if that's what you want to do."
Willow laid on the very edge of the bed. A tear slid down her cheek and she started to babble, "It may not be a big thing to you, but to me it's huge. I'm afraid, Buffy. I've been afraid, that I'll touch you the wrong way, or look at you the wrong way. I need you to know—to understand—what you're gonna see, you may not like it, but it'll be the truth."
Turning to watch her friend peer vacantly up at the ceiling, Buffy offered comfortingly, "Settle down, Will, seriously. Believe it or not, I get it. Or at least I get that part of it." While her friend wept, Buffy reached out to touch her shoulder reassuringly as she explained, "That's why I said it's no big, 'cause it isn't to me. I'm not gonna go off on you—not for the affection stuff. I actually sorta like it. Now come here and tell me about the spell. Is it only one way?"
Before Willow responded, she rolled onto her side and propped herself up on one arm. "What do you mean? Like, will I know what you're thinking?"
Buffy turned to meet the redhead's gaze and confirmed, "Yeah."
Willow reached into the pocket of her pajamas and pulled out the ring box she had in the car, offering pensively, "No, it'd be really, really confusing if it went both ways." She brought the box up to a level where Buffy could easily see it.
Struggling with sudden overwhelming nervousness, Buffy replied, "Makes sense," as her gaze fixed on the box. She stuttered, "Umm...wha, why?" and accepted the box when Willow handed it off.
"Open it."
Buffy fingered the box anxiously for a moment, and then finally, obeyed the request.
"We're gonna try something a little different. Lift it just like you were going to. You had this planned, remember?"
Biting her lip, Buffy resentfully followed the instructions. God damn it, Will! Her face warmed with shame. There was a piece of tissue she'd used to pad the pills so they wouldn't rattle in the box. She glanced at the redhead and received a nod before removing the Kleenex. Underneath was one of the most beautiful pieces of jewelry she'd ever seen in her life.
"I really wanted to do something special for you. I found this and fell in love with it," Willow reflected as she removed the bracelet and uncoiled it. Starting to play with it, she went on, "I know it was a little mean to do that, but I wanted you to stop and think. That and, well, I dunno—I've always felt that doing something to mark the important moments is sorta...umm, er...important and this is one—an important moment. This is the day Buffy Summers decided to live." She put the bracelet on her friend's wrist. "That's pretty...umm...important to me."
Buffy raised her wrist to eye level, turning the bracelet to look at the even rows of irregular stones set in silver. "What's the bluish stuff?"
Willow offered a warm smile before she replied, "Its moonstone. It's supposed to protect the traveler—seemed appropriate. And the pink and green are tourmaline. They just polished the stones and left them the same shape they were when they came out of ground."
"It's beautiful, Will," Buffy murmured with a smile. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Willow took the box and rolled out of bed to search through her duffle for the spell ingredients. After putting the box away, she lifted out a plastic shopping bag and opened it up on the foot of the bed before commenting, "This will probably feel really weird." She removed a stack of candles, lighting them and placing them around the room, "It might even make you a little sick, but it's the best way. I can show you in fifteen minutes what it'd take me hours to explain. Thing is, when we're done, it might take you several hours to go through the memories and figure them out. Ask if something confuses you."
Buffy replied, "'Kay," sounding distracted. As she reclined on the bed watching the witch prepare, she believed she could feel a palpable charge building in the room. Trying to calm herself, she asked, "But otherwise it's not gonna be painful, right? I've had enough of that for awhile."
Willow lit a small burner full of fragrant herbs, winking before she responded, "Depends on how you define pain. But, no, it won't hurt you physically." When she finished, Willow came over to the bedside and said, "Close your eyes and relax. Trust me."
After taking a deep breath, Buffy shut her eyes and exhaled. Something dusted the surface of her forehead and she suppressed a cringe.
Willow's voice rang out, crisp and commanding, "Harken, Mnemosyne, mother of muse. Keeper of memory, whose waters I choose."
When the witch's damp fingertip touched Buffy's forehead, tracing an unfamiliar shape, the fine granules of powder lightly scratching the surface of her skin. A chill ran down her spine causing her shiver as the finger withdrew.
Wind gusted, causing the candles to flicker when Willow began to intone again, "Grant her your vision, perfect and clear, a flawless reflection of one who lies near."
The strange symbol on Buffy's forehead grew warmer as the light in the room flashed bright, causing spots to dance behind her closed eyelids. As the fluid became hot and uncomfortable, it occurred to her that what she thought to be water definitely wasn't. There was a spicy fragrance associated with the heat she couldn't quite place as it mixed with the floral aromas of the burning herbs. Wish I knew what that symbol was. My luck it's an 'L' and I'm gonna end up wearing it all day tomorrow. She suppressed both a snicker and the urge to touch. I'd recognize it if it was. Still funny, though.
"Candles lit to mark time we spend. When flame goes out, the moments will end. Shrouds restored to former state, while memory remains to color our fate."
Buffy let out a sigh of relief when the wind and radiance died away. I hate it when she does that. It's seriously wigsome.
After several moments of thick silence, Willow noted, "'Kay, all set," as she flipped off the light. Walking around the bed to lie on the blonde's left side, she remarked, "When I lay down you should see what I looked like when I was five. Once you're ready I'll start. There's a lot to cover, so..." Suddenly remembering, she gasped, "Oh," and quickly amended, "And you can open your eyes. Whatever's better."
Buffy smiled when her friend crawled onto the bed and an image of a cherub faced child with carrot-red hair filled her mind's eye. The younger Willow was sitting on a stool in front of her dresser carefully brushing out the waist length locks. Wow! I can't believe how vivid this is. Looks like she's remembering something from yesterday. "You were so cute," she reflected. Thinking better of the statement as she gazed into the redhead's eyes, she added, "Still are, but it's a different sorta cute." Her friend's expression transformed from grrr to grin and Buffy laughed.
A hint of surprise peeked through the mental discipline when the slayer held her arm out, pulling Willow up to lay in the curve of her shoulder.
"Umm...Will, is it all like this?" Buffy asked, trying to explain what she meant by adding, "I mean, it's just weird. When I remember something—even something a week ago—it's...I dunno, sorta fuzzy." As she glanced down to make eye contact, she felt the redhead nod.
"Yeah," Willow replied, "It took me a long time to realize that other people weren't like me. I'd expect them to remember something...and, y'know, they wouldn't. Xander was the one that actually made me understand I was different." She sighed. "But yeah, all those stories—the old ones we tell—the reason he remembers so well...I sorta kept the good ones alive."
Smiling warmly, Buffy absently rubbed her friend's back. Sorta explains the 'school' thing.
"Ready?" Willow asked, quickly adding, "Oh, and if you see something upsetting, please remember not to squish."
Suddenly, the child faded, replaced by a flood of image and sensation. Buffy tensed immediately under the strain. Struggling to concentrate through the distressing onslaught, she snarked, "Jeeze! You think like this? No wonder you can never finish a sentence," mocking a wince when her friend gave her a light poke in the side. The cascade of memory slowed and she began to recognize details. Wow! This is so cool. I gotta hand it to Will. She's seriously been boning up on the magick.
Buffy was a bit stunned to find herself standing in the shower, seeing the world through her friend's eyes. Showering was a sensation she hadn't been prepared to handle. She was almost ashamed that she found it erotic, but the confusion and sorrow that Willow was feeling in the memory made this easy to ignore. "Umm...Will?" she prompted.
"All of it, Buffy," Willow replied plainly, "I'm going to speed up a little. We've only got so much time. I might skip around some 'cause I'm pretty sure you won't care what I thought of lunch last Thursday. There's some stuff I'm a little ashamed of, so...just let me concentrate, please?"
Forcing herself to relax and just let the sensations happen, Buffy replied vaguely, "'Kay, Will."
"If it gets uncomfortable again, just say."
***********
Faith stared across the table at Wesley with a vacant look on her face. It's not so bad. Who am I trying to kid? Yeah, it's bad. I've been sitting here all morning with dweeb boy listening to Earl G. and Soul Boy try to make each other feel better over something I did for— How long's it been? She looked around for a clock, finding nothing to indicate the time. Whatever. 'Too damned long's the answer I'm looking for. They've totally forgotten us. But y'know...you gotta respect the kinda crazy it takes to think that sending those two off together is a good plan. It's desperate. It's the 'we've run out of options' plan.
Rolling her eyes as the sob-fest continued, Faith placed her arms on the table and rested her forehead against them, turning the others out. Worst part...I'm starting to feel bad. I don't feel bad about this sorta shit, it's just not— B. picked sides. She shoved me away. I just did what I had to. Her all gimpy—not my problem. It has to suck, but still not my thing. They should've let her do herself in. I would've, and I'd be pissed off as hell at anyone who tried to stop me. Bet Red's havin' a blast.
If I'd had a clue, I would've helped. I get that she'd wanna go out on her own terms. Plus, the others with their ever present help...comes a point when that's just gotta get old. Faith almost jumped out of her chair when a loud thump sounded across the table from her. What the—?
Wesley shot out of his chair and began to pace as the attention of the entire room came to rest on him. After several moments of silently ignoring the others, he mumbled, "Anya was quite correct," coming to a halt at the end of the table. After turning his attention to Giles, Wesley asked, "What do you know of Widukind?"
Giles peered pensively at the younger man for several moments before he answered, "During the Saxon Wars he was the Duke of Saxony and chief antagonist of Charlemagne. Ironically, after standing in bloody opposition of assimilation by Christianity for many years, he was eventually baptized in 785 and finally even sainted."
Dipping his chin ever so slightly in agreement, Wesley reflected, "And as you know, in order to be canonized, one must perform three miracles. If you look at Widukind's line, he became the progenitor of a great many saints. It's almost absurd how many 'miracles' occurred in his direct line of descendents," starting to pace again as he spoke, "I began to scrutinize this. It occurred to me that an unrecognized 'miracle,' if you will, was this man's age at the time of his death. In an era when early deaths were quite common, he lived to be seventy-eight years old. I know this seems a minor point, but—"
Faith could feel her eyes glazing over as she tuned out the rest of the speech. Y'know, I'm not sure I'll ever figure how these two get all worked up over some old guy who's been dead for centuries. It makes no kinda sense to me.
"One of my contacts within the council sent me this manuscript. Do you recall Toby, Mr. Giles?" Wesley offered conversationally, pointing at the faxed document that he had been pouring over the entire morning.
"Yes, indeed. How is Tobias?" Giles replied cheerfully.
Wesley smiled and remarked genially, "He's getting on quite well. Did you know he just became a grandfather?"
Oh please! There has to be a point! Faith stifled a grimace and glanced at Angel who was sitting patiently with his fingers laced together at his chin, waiting for the two men to arrive at something relevant.
"Back on point, there are several references in this document to The Valley of Shadows," Wesley noted, pointing to a specific line in the text.
Giles came around to look at the papers. As he read, a smile formed on his face. "Wesley, not to interfere, but this would be 'The Shadow-less Valley' or 'The Valley of Light.' You see, it's a double negative, which is typically counted as a positive."
Wesley looked carefully at the bad photo copy of the ancient Gaelic document. "Ah, yes, you are quite right. At any rate, there is reference here again to an injury, in keeping with my research, and a subsequent journey undertaken, this time by Widukind and a small party of his men. His first son Ayken was severely wounded in a skirmish with one of Charlemagne's cavalry regiments. Widukind was said to only be gone a few days, though the men that returned with him relayed a great saga of their travels detailing many months journey. On their return, Widukind's son was restored to full health, although his prognosis had been grim."
After taking a seat, Giles began to study the document, remarking absently, "There was reference to a place where no shadow fell in our previous research."
Trying to suppress the impatience in his voice, Angel asked, "How long?"
Giles glanced up from the pile of notes and confirmed, "Very soon. It looks as though Wesley may be onto something here."
Faith returned her forehead to the 'sleeping in class' position she'd adopted to avoid the drama. Thank God! Killing something—it's becoming a thing. If they don't get their shit together, I may end up settling.
***********
The midday sun beamed down harsh and unforgiving. Parched, hot wind whipped around Buffy as she stared vacantly off into the distance, watching the barren desert landscape pass by. Her cheeks burned as she cried. I think she thought it'd make me feel better to have the top down. Right now I have no clue what 'better' even means. What it'd take to get there? Hell if I know.
As Buffy focused her gaze on an outcropping of huge rocks in the distance, Willow's hand closed over hers and she yielded to the contact. I wonder what she thinks, if she knows. She was asleep before the candles burned down. I shouldn't have—it was so wrong, but after all that, I lay there considering going through with it till dawn.
Buffy stared muzzily at the standing rocks as they slowly drew closer. What she saw stunned her. The rocks looked like a sculpture of a woman with her head back screaming in agony. Living like this—it's impossible. I can't be this. I have no clue what'll happen if I don't get better. But I can't do it knowing how much it'd hurt her. It'd kill her; I got that last night. That was the big sharing.
Buffy blinked and the illusion faded. They were just rocks. She put her hand to her cheek, carelessly smearing the tears across her slick, wind-burned skin. It stung to the touch, but she couldn't seem to care. All those other details...pretty much meaningless. The one thing—the thing I got—Will was willing to kill for me. What it takes to put someone like her there... What it'd take for her to go back... I have to live. I've got no choice. I have to live to keep her alive.
Glancing over to look at her passenger, Willow asked again in a soft, thoughtful tone, "You gonna be okay?"
Buffy turned her gaze to the space on the seat between them, staring at their jointed hands, and replied "Yeah, Will. I just need some time, 'kay?" How much? No clue. But this has to get better. Her eyes blurred with more fresh tears.
"'Kay. It's just that you've been— Did I hurt you?"
Buffy gasped, "No, Will" — turning her head quickly to look at her friend's profile — "don't think that. It's just—I need to—a lot's happened and I need to—" she stammered, not even sure herself what she needed. Taking in the deep worry etched on her friend's face, she noted that Willow was weeping too. Shit! After giving the hand she held a reassuring squeeze, she sniffled and offered thickly, "It's not you. It's just—lot's happened and I've just—"
"You're not mad?"
"No," Buffy responded firmly. It's weird. Like there's more than one Willow in there. I think I kinda get it now. Sounding much less certain, she mumbled, "Just lemme... I'll be okay," while she pulled tissue from the box between them on the seat. After passing some off to her friend, she took a couple for herself and futilely started to dry her face. More tears formed, reminding her just how useless the act was. I'm leaking. I've been leaking since last night and I can't seem to stop. I wonder if you can slowly drip away. I guess parts of you can. She's right to be worried. I've got no clue what it'll take to make it right. Wish I knew.
Buffy angrily cast the Kleenex aside, turning her attention back to the desert scenery whipping past them. One of the memories from last night flashed crisp and clean into view. I gotta wonder why my stupid brain hasn't mauled these yet. Give it time. They'll be as fuzzy as the rest. I have faith. The gift of forget will kill them. She watched that first afternoon—the first time they'd spoken—from Willow's point of view and compared it to her own memory. More weird. She must've given this to me in that first—the part that went so fast.
When Buffy placed her left hand back in the seat between them, it was quickly scooped up. She needs the contact to be okay—to know I'm okay. The contact went away for a moment and music filled the car. She almost slid out of her seat when she recognized the first song. 'Ballad for Dead Friends' by the Dashboard Prophets filled the air and a sardonic chuckle slipped out.
Willow fumbled with the tape deck, fast forwarding to the next song as she cursed, "Dammit, Xander," under her breath.
"No, it's cool—actually funny—in the really dark, twisted, ironic kinda way."
Shrugging, Willow rewound the tape and just let it play. "Xander made us tapes for the trip," she grumbled, appearing completely un-amused.
Buffy glanced over and snickered again at the grumpy look on her friend's face. "Leave it to Xander," she reflected distantly, returning to her musing. Willow? First time we met: jumpy, frightened, wary, curious, and yet somehow—enamored maybe? Though she was still silently weeping, her mood had improved. Me? I was—what I saw was a pretty girl who'd been forced into a shell. That shell needed some serious breakage. Mom got that much right. She chuckled softly as the memory revealed something she'd missed at the time. She kept glancing at my cleavage. Aww...that's almost cute in a weird, repressed, stalkerish sorta way.
Her friend had calmed down, Buffy could tell it just from the tiny bit of contact they had. Will was wrong. Buffy Summers did die after prom. Mom will report me missing soon. And right after that, Angel will report his car stolen. The police will find the car abandoned in Flagstaff. Then Anne Marie Rouche and Danielle Leigh Williams will return to the scene of their deaths. Well, not really—Will got creative. She sorta shuffled stuff around a little. Different socials and she switched their first names for our middle names so we could keep a fragment of who we are. I wonder if her parents will ever get it figured. They may eventually call the cops. Sad people.
Buffy faced forward to see distant traces of humanity just coming into view on the horizon. Phoenix. Though she was still weeping, there was something almost cathartic about being nearly clear of the long stretch of high desert. Whole lot smarter than I could be. I can't believe she started on that while I was in the hospital. Wait...yes I can. It's Willow we're talking here. One thing I've learned about her—she plans. She knew this was coming the night it happened. Pretty much every detail was set by the time they released me, even the car. I almost wish she'd told me, but then again I don't. I was—still am—pretty confused.
A subtle half-grin tugged at Buffy's lips. I'm gonna kill Angel. Next time I see him he's so dead. Strange, I sorta get it, but leaving Sunnydale to—leaving my friends and family in the hands of that psychotic bitch—not my first choice. Hopefully, Angel can keep her in check. He sorta seemed to be getting through to her. Least that's what I got before Wesley went off and acted like a moron. Maybe there is hope. Maybe there's hope for all of us. Maybe I'll walk again. They say—well, they didn't say much, but I gotta hope. I gotta find it, I have to. No choice. I can't not. I can't hurt Will.
***********
Angel passed through the glowing portal with Faith directly behind him. Trust: I have to show a little if I hope to get any. Doesn't make it any easier. He scanned the large, dimly-lit cavern for signs of life, fixing briefly on the daylight seeping in through its partially obscured mouth dead ahead. Other than the mishap with Willow, she's been doing okay. And even her reaction to that was perfectly reasonable, given the circumstances.
As the portal faded, leaving them in relative darkness, movement to his right caused Angel to refocus his attention. Not diverting his eyes from the area, he directed, "We've got fifteen minutes to get it done before the Professor and Gilligan send us the ticket home, Faith." His smile faltered when she failed to react to the names he used. Gruffly, he ordered, "Fan out and flank them, while I keep them busy, okay?"
When no answer came, Angel began to get annoyed. Damn it, Faith! I should know better than to even think— His rumination was cut short when something huge came out of the shadow. It batted him aside like a toy. He didn't even hear it until it was way too late. Noting an acrid odor, he skipped along the ground. Slamming into the cavern wall a good twenty feet away from where he'd been, Angel shook himself off and rose. Great! Can't see them, but I can sure smell them. His eyes welled up as the stench burned his nose.
A loud roar echoed through the air and Angel saw a flourish of movement off to his left. Another flicker of something that sparkled like glass caught his eye in the blackness seconds later. Then suddenly he was seized from behind. Strong jaws caused ribs to snap as sharp teeth pierced his flesh. All the air in his lungs escaped in the form of a gagged scream while his face shifted revealing the demon. He brought his free arm up, punching the beast in the face with all his might. Another punch and the jaws snapped open as bone cracked underneath his fist. He fell to the ground, clutching his chest. Two great, yellow eyes peered at him for only an instant before he was batted across the cavern again.
Well, that's just about enough of that. Angel sprang painfully to his feet and started to run. Without Faith there isn't much I can do except run. Where is that annoying, conniving, unreliable—? As the two creatures pursued him, he could feel the rock floor tremble in his wake. No idea what these things are other than big and hungry. It's bad when Giles can't show you a picture before you go in. I understand why now. So far all I've seen is a big black blur and yellow eyes. The sharp teeth and claws was more a feel thing. Running really isn't my style, but I get the distinct impression that not running would make me dinner.
As Angel sprinted in a half circle around the room, leading the demons, he spied a small crag and ducked inside. Hoping it would be enough, he pressed as far into the confined space as physically possible. One large, slit-pupil eye winked open at the mouth of the crag, followed quickly by a huge, blunt snout covered in black, felt-like fur. The beast sniffed the air causing Angel to retch. These things aren't big on personal hygiene. As the demon opened it's maw to snarl, revealing rows of spiny, transparent teeth, Angel flinched. A string of cloudy yellow drool slid from the beast's black forked tongue, dripping onto the floor near the vampire's feet. The demon huffed, breathing out a cloud of foul smelling mist when it shut its mouth. Angel blinked once to recover and drew back, punching the beast in the nose. Scraping noises sounded from outside his temporary sanctuary, followed by a rumbling roar. Great! All I can manage is to make it mad. Good work.
Something whipped into the crag. It moved so quickly the he barely saw it. The huge, hard-shelled stinger smashed into the rock wall near his head. A dusting of broken rock showered Angel. He grabbed onto the carapace. When it withdrew, he was whipped out of his hiding place. He looked up at the massive, curved tail as it lashed out again, trying to shake him. This is not where I want to be. He smashed into the ground, refusing to let go. This is the last place anyone sane wants to be. The creature started to gallop wildly around the room. Giles said poison though. Looks like the right spot.
As the demon twitched its tail, scrubbing it over a rock outcropping, Angel gasped in pain. This is arguably one of the stupidest things I've ever done, he reflected and moved his grip to the stinger. After wrapping his legs tightly around the tail, he began to twist and wrench. He fought to pull the stinger away while the beast continued to thrash around in protest. Finally, the last piece of sinewy flesh ripped free and Angel slipped, smashing to the ground.
Clear fluid had begun to leak from the stinger. Smoke poured off Angel's skin where the foul liquid touched. In pain, he desperately ran from the enraged demons, dodging and ducking their attacks. The acidic poison ate his skin as he fled, but he refused to release the prize.
Things were starting to get more desperate when the portal glimmered to life. Running for safety, he evaded a blow, vaulting the tail of the second beast. As he closed in on freedom, he spied Faith standing next to the portal with her arms folded across her chest, looking smug. I'm gonna kill her!
Faith casually stepped through the portal with Angel close on her six.
She'd dead. I'm going to rip her head off, Angel seethed as he burst through the portal to safety. Sliding to a halt, he tossed the stinger on the table and barked, "Close it! Now!" The portal vanished with a crackle and a flash as smoke began to waft from the wooden table where the stinger lay.
"Wesley, the poison sac is ruptured. Could I burden you—?" Giles asked, falling silent when the younger Englishman quickly left the room.
Angel's skin continued to smolder as he rounded on Faith, yelling, "Don't you ever do that to me again!"
Trying not to smirk, Faith backed away with her hands in the air. Producing a vial of the poison from her pocket, she held it up and winked.
She could've been holding his humanity in her hand, Angel wouldn't have cared at that moment. He pressed her into a wall and continued to scream, "You do what I tell you. You don't, and we part company. We part company, and you become a lab rat. You get it?"
Eyeing the raw skin on Angel's hand as he stabbed his finger into her chest, Faith nodded.
Angel took in the proud look on Faith's face. Her jaw was defiantly clenched. She crossed her arms, tucking the vial into the crook of her elbow. "If there's something about this arrangement that's not clear—?" he snarled, falling silent when the slayer shook her head. His face shifted back as he closed his eyes tight, trying to regain his composure.
Recovering quickly, Faith offered, "Lemme get something for your hands."
Angel allowed her to slip away. After removing his ripped jacket, he flopped wearily into one of the chairs surrounding the large conference table. Holding his hands out as they continued to billow smoke, he closed his eyes, focusing on suppressing the pain. When Wesley burst back into the room, placing a glass bowl on the table, Angel rose and moved the stinger.
Angel looked up to see Giles eyeing him pensively. "Something on your mind?"
"You know she's not to be trusted." Giles stated simply.
Nodding curtly, Angel replied, "She deserves another chance." He was a bit surprised, despite himself, when Faith burst back into the room carrying a large ceramic pot.
Faith set the container on the table in front of the vampire and stated, "It's the best I could find, Boss. Put your hands in."
Cocking an eyebrow curiously, Angel looked into the vat of what appeared to be water as Faith placed the vial she had on the table.
"Baking soda water. Swiped it outta the fridge. Y'know you still look like a vamp, but—" Faith smirked. "Anyway, that shit's acidic so I'm guessing it'll help."
Angel dipped both of his hands into the water. They stung painfully, but he ignored it and asked, "What's in the vial?"
"Same thing that's in that." She pointed to the stinger. "Least I guess it is," Faith added with a shrug.
Angel started to ask, "How'd you—?" falling silent when Faith grinned and barked a laugh.
"The cubs—cute little bastards—playful too. I thought you saw 'em. They were right behind the portal," Faith remarked, pausing to sigh. "While you were keeping mama and papa bear busy, I was rolling around on the floor wrestling the kids. Couldn't really say nothin'. The big ones—" she giggled when Angel slumped into his chair "—they get pretty pissy 'bout the little ones and—y'know I didn't wanna give myself up. I figured you'd just drag the 'em around long enough for me to—"
Angel glared at Faith as she rounded the table, taking a seat. He wasn't sure whether to be livid or proud. He glanced over at Giles and Wesley who were both holding their peace, appearing quite amused. Finally, Angel's resolve snapped and he began to chuckle. The others quickly joined him. Falling silent, he asked, "Is that it? We have what we need?"
"Why, yes," Giles replied genially. After a short pause, hastily adding, "There are a few more common items that will have to be retrieved tomorrow. They are easily purchased. We will be fully prepared by the time you rise tomorrow evening."
A grave air darkened his features and Angel nodded, glancing over at Faith. I'm not sure she's ready, but we have no choice. This has to be dealt with...and the sooner the better.
***********
Buffy sat on the bed blinking as her friend exited the bathroom. Quirking an eyebrow, she tilted her head, still trying to decide whether she liked the new look or not. Wow...umm...weird. Cute, but weird. Where'd she put my Willow? The black hair's gonna take some serious getting used to. It's actually not bad. She must've gotten all researchy to find the good stuff. Black's one of those colors—most dye jobs look really fake. This isn't bad. Looks good on her.
Shifting anxiously on the bed when Willow tossed a swimsuit to her, Buffy ignored the hint and continued to silently observe. It's the suit she's got on that really scares me, though. First off: she doesn't seriously think I'm gonna swim does she? She glanced at swimsuit next to her on the bed, quickly turning her attention back to her friend. And second: umm...wow...there was more material in the dress Marilyn Manson's date wore to the Grammy's. Will's the traditional, one-piece sorta girl, not this. Finally, she said in a firm voice, "I'm not going swimming." What'd she do with my Willow?
"Yes you are," Willow replied as she wrapped a towel around her waist. "C'mon, Buffy, it'll be fun."
Imagining for only a second how she'd look in a suit, Buffy said resolutely, "Sorry. I'll watch you swim, but—" And that should be umm...interesting. What happened to that shy girl I had to coax into a miniskirt a couple of Halloweens ago?
Appearing resolved, Willow furrowed her brow. "Nope. I think you're gonna come swimming with me. And you're gonna have a good time. Remember the prom? You were all grrr—" a mischievous grin brightened her face "—then you saw it my way. We went and you smiled. I even saw a laugh or two. Don't try to deny it either 'cause I have witnesses."
Buffy tossed the swimsuit aside. "Not gonna happen," she remarked dryly, "There was a dress to cover all the—at the prom. What exactly do imagine this" — she gestured vaguely at the bikini — "will cover?"
"Umm...Buffy, it's two o'clock in the morning. Just who do you think we're gonna see?"
Buffy could feel her self-control slipping. Closing her eyes tight to avoid snapping at her well-intentioned friend, she took a deep breath and said a little too calmly, "Whoever runs us off from the pool."
Willow smiled sheepishly before she countered, "Not gonna happen. Just trust me." Her tone turned pleading as she added, "Wear your sweats if you want. Please just come. It'll be good for you. I promise."
Buffy scowled. I'm caving. Why do I always cave? What is it about her? Her friend started to pout and Buffy answered by growling as she climbed out of bed and grabbed the swimsuit top. She seized her crutches and made her way to the bathroom, grumbling under her breath. Willow was grinning by the time she returned. Shooting a disgusted look at the former redhead, Buffy followed her out the door and down the hall.
When they arrived at the hotel recreation center, Willow put her hand to the lock and the door popped open.
Buffy snickered softly and shook her head before she moved. Cautious of water on the floor she followed her friend to the edge of the pool.
"Lemme have your crutches."
Buffy sighed before relinquishing them.
When Willow returned from setting their towels and the crutches aside, she stooped at Buffy's feet, remarking, "Not getting fresh, 'kay?" After glancing up to see the nod, she moved the blonde's legs together, lining them up. Her palm briefly brushed the slayer's feet and thighs as she mumbled something under her breath.
Buffy's brow crinkled with curiosity and uncertainty as Willow moved behind her. "What was that?"
"Something to help. Just trust me."
Buffy felt herself rise off the concrete and gasped, "Umm...Will?" trying to turn and look at her friend.
"Just relax, Buffy," Willow offered reassuringly.
Buffy floated over the surface of the pool. There was a moment's hesitation where she was certain her friend planned to drop her.
"Ready?"
When Buffy nervously nodded again, the witch slowly lowered her into the water that was just up to the tops of her shoulders.
"Try moving, but be careful, 'kay?"
The moment Buffy moved her legs, she figured out what the mumbling had been about. Willow had magickally attached the edges of her feet and the sides of her thighs together. When she moved one leg, the other echoed the action. It took a bit of effort, but soon she was gracefully cutting through the water swimming laps. The sweat pants were annoying. They felt like they weighed about ten-thousand pounds, but slayer strength made up for any inconvenience.
Buffy rolled onto her back and looked up at her friend who was sitting on a towel with her feet in the water at the edge of the pool reading a book. Go figure, she drags me out here and ends up reading some musty old book. I don't even remember seeing her bring one. Must've been in the stack of towels. Sneaky. "So, Will, you planning on just sitting there? This was your idea."
Willow kept her nose buried in the book. "Give me a few more minutes. I'm trying to figure something out."
Rolling onto her front as she neared the end of the pool, Buffy turned around by diving underwater and kicked off the wall. After resurfacing, she turned back onto her back. "I'm giving you two more laps. Then—" she giggled "—I'll owe you a book."
Willow responded nervously, "Umm...well, I'd sorta prefer you didn't."
"'Kay, well...you'd better hop to it then, 'cause—" Buffy replied, deliberately slowing her pace to allow her friend more time. I'm still having huge issues with everything she's done. I dunno if I'll ever get over it. I suppose it depends on how it works out. She gave up going to, not just the school of her dreams, but the schools of her dreams for me. She could've picked.
Reaching the end of the pool, Buffy fluidly made her turn and set back off in the other direction. I really wish she hadn't shown me that. I got what it meant to her. She worked her whole life for it. Then there was me, I meant more. And she can say what she said to Giles all day long, I refuse to buy it. She traded Oxford for me. The fact that she'd run off like this proves it.
When Buffy reached the end of the first full lap, she dove and didn't resurface. Kicking hard off the wall, she swam length of the Olympic sized pool underwater and turned to head back. I bet she's researching something else to help me. Seems to be about all she does. Surfacing halfway through her return trip, she switched to a leisurely breast stroke as Willow got up to put her book away. Though, I think Will's generally pretty happy as long as she has a problem to solve.
Problem solved: I am having fun...damn it. Reaching the end of the second lap, Buffy stood up in the shallow end as her friend climbed in.
A warm, quirky smile played at Willow's lips as she regarded the blonde.
Buffy pulled her friend into a gentle embrace and whispered, "Will, I'm worried."
Drawing back just enough to make eye-contact, Willow asked, "Why's that?"
Sighing, Buffy struggled to suppress the feelings of guilt welling up inside her. "I'm afraid you're giving up so much for me—too much. What happens if in a year or two you look back and regret?" She sighed before adding in a small choked voice, "And resent?"
"I don't see it that way. It's not so much 'giving up'—it's 'giving back'," Willow responded firmly, going on to explain in a more casual tone, "See, thing is...you've given me a lot yourself. You may not see it, but you have. And it's really important stuff, stuff I'm not gonna find anywhere else...or, if I did, it'd be a minor miracle or a major fluke."
Concern reflected on her face as Buffy remarked, "Will, it's not like you wouldn't have eventually grown out of—" cutting off when her friend began to snicker.
Correcting amusedly, Willow quipped, "Not this," and pulled back, gesturing to her chest. She giggled when the ploy worked and the blonde glanced at her cleavage, then she continued to explain, "No, silly, I mean purpose. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be learning this stuff—the magick. I love it. I'm good at it too. Using it for good—making a difference—it's amazing. I wouldn't have that if it wasn't for you. I can go to school anytime. Right now what's important is you. Getting you better so we can—"
Buffy nodded with understanding as her friend paused and interjected, "What if I don't get better?"
"I believe you will. I know it—" Willow gestured to her chest mid-thought and smiled when the blond glanced again "—in here. If you don't—if I'm wrong and the others fail, then that's what all the research is about. Lemme ask you this: did you ever see yourself dancing or swimming again?"
Tears welled up in Buffy's eyes and shook her head very slightly in answer.
"Oh, don't cry, please," Willow whispered and cupped her friend's cheek. Running her fingers gently over the blonde's temple, she asked, "How can you think it's impossible then? We're just starting."
Silently considering Willow's words for several moments, Buffy finally wiped her eyes and murmured, "Thanks, Will."
"No need. You and me, we're a team. We go together like cookies and cream," Willow babbled excitedly, "Or movies and popcorn." She stalled pensively for a few seconds to come up with another 'or.' "Oh! Or bad vampire clichés and New Orleans." She giggled, then snapped suddenly serious, amending, "Now hush, you. I'm still here 'cause I wanna be." Without warning, she deftly squirmed out of the hug and quipped, "Now catch me, slayer," springing into a surprisingly efficient breast stoke.
Taking another moment to calm herself, Buffy watched the witch cover half the pool before she smiled and tore off in pursuit.
***********
The Chief of Police, Bob Russell, waved at the receptionist as he made his way to grab a cup of coffee en route to his desk. Pausing to rub the sleep from his eyes before he crossed the threshold to the break room, he froze and blinked in disbelief. His gaze came to rest on a large, black and white rat who was leisurely snacking on the sugar packets.
Bob mumbled to himself, "I thought for sure they were making you up," and took off across the room. "Silly women passing out all because of a little rat," he growled and swung at the fleeing rat. Gotcha! When his hand came down, it clipped the end of the rat's tail and everything went dark.
***********
Faith sat watching Wesley prepare the ingredients to open the portal. Anything that starts with the hollowed out head of a big-ass, hard-to-kill demon and gets topped off with poison from another big-ass—'kay, so the cubs were cute, but— It might be time to bail. I'm so not convinced this is a good plan. Hell, I'm not even convinced it's a not-so-good plan. Sounds just plain painful. Course there is one bonus: the council isn't gonna follow me to Hell. At least, don't think they'll do that. Maybe I can take over, like the old joke, and— Nah...it still sucks. Doesn't matter how much psyching I do, it's just gonna suck. Period.
Giles' brow furrowed with concern as he observed the slayer. After rising from his seat, he went to a cupboard and opened it. Pulling out a small bag, he made his way back to Faith and queried, "May I have a moment alone with you?"
"Sure. Whatcha got, G.?" Faith asked as she rose to follow the former watcher. When Giles simply gestured for her to follow, she obeyed out of curiosity.
Stopping in the foyer, Giles remarked, "Willow requested that I see you receive this."
Faith eyed the bag suspiciously before finally accepting it. "Y'know what's in it? 'Cause I'm wondering why it's not tickin'."
Smiling with amusement, Giles chuckled and replied, "I'm certain it's quite safe. She also requested that you not open it until you are through the portal." He placed his hand between her shoulders, graciously ushering Faith back to the others.
When Faith arrived in the room, it was happening. There was smoke billowing out of the top of the demon's skull and a faint glow had already appeared in the dense haze. As she collected her gear, the radiance increased. Soon the room was filled with thick fog. A bright light in the far corner of the room showed where the portal lay. I could bail now and they might not even notice, she reflected before Angel's hand clamped over her shoulder. Well, so much for that idea.
"Ready?"
"Ready, Boss." Faith didn't resist when Angel began to steer her toward the light. This is gonna suck! Mightily!
"Good fortune to you both," Giles kindly voice sounded out of the mist.
"Indeed. Safe journey," Wesley put in.
"We'll be back before you miss us," Angel replied as he pushed the slayer through and stepped into the portal himself.
Faith heard their words and registered them all as she was shoved into the column of bright white light. Her mind reeled when the light didn't dim. It should've dimmed. It's just supposed to work that way. She collapsed to her knees, suddenly colder than she'd ever been in her life. The air was thick and difficult to breathe. She gasped and choked for air. As she slumped onto her side, her eyes reflexively clamped shut against the light. Behind her closed lids, there was still a harsh glow broken up by spots of gray. She lay shivering and wheezing, praying that Angel would be able to pull her back through to the safety of their world.