A Journey of a Thousand Miles
by Kirayoshi
Invisible Best Friend
[reviews]
Chapter Seven
Invisible Best Friend
"You'll rescue me, right,
In the exact same way they never did
I'll be happy, right,
When your healing powers kick in
You'll complete me, right,
And my life will finally begin again
I'll be worthy, right,
Only when you realize the gem I am.
But it won't work out now, as the way it once did,
And I won't keep it up, even though I would love to,
When I know who I'm not, then I'll know who I am,
But I know I won't keep on playing the victim.
These precious illusions in my head
Did not let me down when I was defenseless,
And parting with them is like parting with invisible best friends."
--Alanis Morisette
"Precious Illusions"
From all outward appearances he was simply a homeless vagabond searching for a place to lie down for the night, and wasn't too picky about where. But appearances can be deceiving, especially in Sunnydale. He had purpose here in the cemetery. He knew she was here.
He could sense her.
From the moment she first entered his shop, seeking his assistance, he formed a link with her. It wasn't a strong link, just strong enough to let him know whenever she was near him. And she was near, he could sense her presence. She had some business here in the cemetery, some errand brought her here.
He still couldn't see her, but that didn't matter. He would wait. He knew that she couldn't stay away from him for long. She would come back to him, begging for the sensations that only he could provide. They always did.
He sat back on a plot of earth, reclined against a tombstone and started to sing idly to himself; "Let me take you down, 'cause I'm going to---Strawberry Fields---nothing is real---And nothing to get up about, Strawberry Fields Forever."
>
Sensations went in and out of her, through her like sunlight through glass. Her hands grew numb from being bound to the ceiling hook, her arms grew strained and cramped from being held immobile, her body grew damp from sweating in the heated crypt. Above all she felt tired. Tired of being held prisoner, tired of feeling weak, tired of fighting.
Slowly, almost gradually, she became increasingly aware of another sensation. A warm sensation brushed against her face, soft and gentle, yet at the same time almost insistent. A pressure against her mouth, a faintly salty taste, like sweat...
She recoiled in pain from the unwanted kiss. "Spike," she murmured, "stay away..." Her left eye, the one that wasn't swollen shut, fluttered open only to look upon the same dank surroundings where she had been imprisoned. Spike hadn't returned. There was nobody in the crypt with her. Yet still there was the feeling of lips, brushing against hers like falling petals.
"Relax, Buffy, it's gonna be okay. We're gonna get you out of here." That oh-so-welcome voice spoke to her, but instead of soothing her nerves, it made them stand further at attention.
"No-n-no," Buffy murmured almost dazedly. "Willow's not here. I'm h-h-hearing things. I'm going mad, that's it. Yeah, that's what Spike wants, he wants me like Drusilla. Buffy's finally losing it." She started to swing back and forth on her chain, her murmurings degrading into senseless sing-song babbling.
An unseen hand suddenly held her by the waist, steadying her from her swaying. "Buffy," Willow's voice grew more urgent, more authoritative, but still had that familiar undertone of caring that Buffy knew to be trademark Willow. "You're not hearing things. I'm really here, and I'm going to get you out of here. You've got to pull yourself together though, before Spike gets back. Can you do that, Buffy?"
"W-W-Willow?" Buffy gulped and stammered, "is that you? How? Did you do magic before you were ready?"
"No," the voice answered, as Buffy felt soft fingertips caressing her face. "I mean, I didn't use a spell or anything, but magic is involved. I'm here, I'm just invisible."
"Invisible?" Buffy breathed hard, fighting through the pains in her throat to speak clearly. "How'd you manage that?"
"I'll explain later," Willow said hurriedly. "Let me see about those bruises first." Buffy felt a gentle pressure against the sore areas on her cheek; Willow apparently was dabbing anti-biotic on them. "Oh, man, Spike did a number on you. What happened to that Slayer healing?"
"Spike shot me full of that muscle relaxant," Buffy explained quietly. "The stuff Giles gave me on my eighteenth birthday."
"So Spike doped you up to keep you weak?" Buffy could hear the anger mount in Willow's voice. "Then he hit you?"
"He said that I made him angry, that I was beneath him." Buffy's voice was a hoarse whisper, and Willow could sense a vague fear in her voice. This only stoked her anger more.
"That passive-aggressive son-of-a..." she growled. "That's it. Tonight we stake the bastard!"
"Willow!" Buffy raised her voice, surprised to hear her friend swear.
"I'll hold him down," Willow continued, not hearing Buffy's surprised utterance, "and you can stake him. Oh, we'll splash him with holy water first. Make him squirm, make it hurt for him..."
"WILLOW!" Buffy shouted, stopping Willow's angry ramble in its tracks. "Maybe you should stop planning bloody vengeance and help me get out of here before Spike shows up."
"Uh, right, good idea," Willow spoke in a rushed voice. "Hang on; Spike probably has something sharp around here." Buffy looked around the crypt for any evidence of Willow's presence. She could see no trace of her friend, only the occasional lifting of a rock or a cloth drifting from the slab to the floor.
>
"Nighthawk to Goldengirl, come in."
Tara triggered her walkie-talkie in response. "Nighthawk?" she smiled sardonically. "Xander, we're not the X-Men, we don't need codenames."
"Right," Xander replied, somewhat mollified. "Xander to Tara, come in."
"Tara here. Any sign of Mr. Mousse Abuse?"
Xander replied in a subtle whisper from behind the bushes near Spike's crypt. "Not yet. Willow's still in the clear. She hasn't stepped out of the crypt yet, not that I could tell with her being invisible and all, so I'm guessing that she found Buffy."
"Lady bless," Victoria whispered under her breath from behind Tara. The two witches remained ten yards away from the crypt with Andrew while Xander kept watch, waiting for Spike to return. Anya reluctantly stayed at Buffy's house with Dawn. Willow had ordered Xander not to try and confront Spike; with the chip neutralized, he was as dangerous as he ever was, if not more. He was to monitor the crypt, and report to Tara and Victoria when he showed up. They would then team up and block his exit, should he try to escape. Willow didn't give any specifics on what she had planned for Spike, and Xander chose not to ask.
"Explain to me again why we brought Andrew along," Xander muttered impatiently.
"Well," Tara offered, "someone has to undo Willow's invisibility."
"It was our fault that she's in this mess," Andrew added. "Warren, Jonathan and me. I owe you whatever help I can give you."
"Fair enough," Xander whispered. "Just keep your head low. Don't worry, Tara, Willow'll be okay."
"I know," Tara said in a soft, sad voice. "I just hope Buffy's okay." For Willow's sake, she added to herself.
And they waited...
>
Each moment of silence stretched into the next, making Buffy antsy. "Willow, are you still there?" she asked anxiously.
"Still here, Buffy," Willow assured her friend. "I'm just looking for something to cut the straps."
"Sorry, Will," Buffy answered hoarsely, "it's just that I can't see you."
"Yeah," Willow's voice took on a slight tone of amusement. "That goes with the whole invisibility thing."
"Could you keep talking, Willow?" Buffy requested. "Just let me know I'm not alone?" Her voice seemed almost timid, which caused Willow's heart to ache for her beloved Slayer.
"Sure, I could do that," Willow said plainly. "Anything in particular you want to talk about?"
"Well, now that I think of it," Buffy grimaced, "how did you get invisible?"
"You can thank Andrew for that," Willow answered. "Oh, he was still alive after all, but Spike had already turned Jonathan. I guess Spike sent Jonathan to bring you here, so he could ambush you."
"Oh my God," Buffy lowered her head in shame; she should have sensed that Jonathan was different, but he managed to fly in under her vamp radar. "Is everyone okay?"
"We're all fine," Willow said, "but there's a pile of dust in the kitchen when you get back. Wait a sec." Willow fell silent for a second, then Buffy saw a glass bottle rise from the crypt floor. "Guinness beer," Willow announced. The bottle then slammed against the slab, shattering instantly and spilling beer over the stone. The bottle-neck remained suspended in the air, and swiftly floated toward Buffy's bound wrists. "Gotta love those easy-open bottles. Just hold still for a sec, Buffy, and I'll have you out of here."
"Great," Buffy smirked. "Not loving the accommodations here. Now, about this whole I-can't-see-you thing..."
"Oh, right." Buffy glanced upward as the broken edge of the bottle sawed against the leather strap that held her wrists to the ceiling. "Well, it turns out that Warren, Jonathan and Andrew were planning to take over Sunnydale. Or rob a bank. Or something, I think they were making it up as they went along. Anyway, they were the ones who stole that diamond a few weeks ago. Seems it possesses some mystic energy that Warren used to power a ray gun that could turn its target invisible. Once Andrew clued us in that Jonathan was Spike's goon now, I dusted him with a broken wooden spoon...oh, sorry 'bout that."
"Under the circumstances," Buffy frowned, "I'll forgive you."
The bottleneck continued to saw carefully at the leather straps. "Thanks." Buffy could imagine Willow's face turning slightly red with dimples forming on her cheek as she smiled. "Well, after that, we realized that Spike was the one who kidnapped you, Andrew showed us the invisibility ray, and I volunteered. I figured I'd be able to sneak into the crypt without Spike seeing me. The others are outside, keeping hidden and waiting for my signal."
"Are they invisible?" Buffy asked. She could slowly feel her strength returning; whether it was the muscle relaxant burning out of her system or the presence of her best friend with the promise of freedom, she wasn't certain. She suspected it was a combination of factors.
"No, just me," Willow answered. "It's kinda cool, actually. Like I can be anywhere without anyone knowing, I could stake any vamp before they could even smell me. We should keep that ray, Buffy. Add some stealth to the whole Slayer package."
"Nice idea," Buffy smiled weakly. "But that diamond is stolen property. Once this is over, we have to return it."
"Do we?" Willow's voice started to take on a pout. "Maybe we could find a substitute, something with similar magical properties to power the ray. I could do so much as an invisible witch! I'd be able to...Oh Goddess..." Willow's voice faded, almost like a volume dial was turned to mute. The bottleneck stopped in mid-saw, hanging eerily in the air above Buffy's head.
After two seconds silence, Buffy asked, "Willow? You okay?"
"This is what Victoria was talking about." Willow whispered, almost blandly but with a sense of revelation that Buffy could hear clearly. She started sawing at the straps again, a little faster than before. "The other day during one of our sessions, she suggested that I had a jones for something other than magic. Being invisible, it feels good. Too good. Like I'm powerful, like I'm invincible."
"Power's a major rush, Willow," Buffy answered wearily. "Even when I gripe about how much I hate being the Slayer, I gotta admit I get off on being stronger and faster than most people. You think that's your problem, Willow? Power?"
Willow paused for a second, then choked out, "Yeah, I guess."
"Listen, Willow," Buffy said calmly. "It's good for you to want to be better than you were before. To shave a few seconds off your mile run, or lift a few more pounds than your former max. Power's not a bad thing, not when you use it right. It's when you want power just for the sake of having power that you get into trouble."
"Oh, Buffy," Willow moaned. Buffy felt the touch of her fingertips on her cheek, and leaned into the unseen hand instinctively. "I want to believe that, I really do. But after all that happened, can I really be trusted with that responsibility again?"
"Willow," Buffy sighed, "you're still that wonderful woman who told me that it was a good fight and that you wanted in. Just hang onto that person, that sweet wonderful Willow. I don't know how I'd continue the fight if it wasn't for you."
The fingers on Buffy's face moved slowly to the back of her neck, and Buffy could feel Willow's breath warming her face. "I'm starting to realize," Willow's whisper took on overtones of passion that Buffy didn't expect, but certainly welcomed, "that I didn't just stay in Sunnydale for the good fight." Again, Buffy could feel the warm and gentle pressure of Willow's lips pressed against hers. She hesitated for a moment ("What about Tara?" she wanted to ask), but Willow was persistent in her kisses. Buffy closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss as far as her restraints would let her.
She suddenly tensed, pulling away from Willow. "Oh, Goddess, I'm sorry, I was too pushy, I..."
"No, Willow, it's not that," Buffy hurriedly tried to assure Willow. "It's Spike. He's near, I can sense him."
"You can?" Willow perked up. "Is your Slayer-ness coming back?"
"Slowly," Buffy nodded. "Be quiet and stay hidden."
"Buffy, I'm invisible," Willow reminded her teasingly. "I can't get much more hidden than that."
"Good point," Buffy conceded. The bottleneck dropped to the floor, and Buffy and her invisible friend stood silently. The seconds ticked away with an agonizing slowness, until the dark form of Spike stepped into the crypt.
"Sorry to leave ya hanging, darlin'," Spike chortled, hugely enjoying his own sense of humor. "And how is my future childe this evening?" He sauntered drunkenly toward the captive Slayer, and caressed her cheek with a rough hand. Buffy had to fight every instinct she ever possessed to keep from recoiling at his touch. "Makes your heart race, don't it? Knowing that soon you'll be joining me in the hunt, drinking deeply of the blood of your victims, Oh, baby, that's the way to live!"
"Yeah," Buffy snarled, "but what about the job prospects?"
Spike smirked, tilting his head and leaning forward for an unwanted kiss. "Charming to the last," he murmured as his lips touched Buffy's.
Spike felt unseen hands grabbing his neck, causing his body to snap back hard, jerking away from Buffy. "What the hell..." Spike muttered. "Must be poltergeists. Oh well, where were we?"
"I think we were at the part," Buffy said sweetly, ignoring the pain in her mouth as she tried to smile, "where I tell you that if you ever touch me again, you'll regret it."
"Oh, scary, scary," Spike growled, his face hardening into its vampiric aspect as he drew his fist back to pummel the Slayer again. "I'll teach you to talk back to me, Buffy!"
"She knows how already, Cheekbones!" The voice echoed around the crypt, laced with righteous rage. Suddenly, a segment of lead pipe raced downward, slamming into Spike's skull like a sledgehammer's blow. The vampire staggered across the room, desperately trying to reclaim his bearings.
"Now that," the voice chimed merrily, "was a pipe!" Buffy grinned hugely at Willow's observation, and started to yank hard at the straps at her wrists. She could hear them tear slightly with each tug.
"Okay," Spike shouted in drunken anger as he scrambled to his feet. "What the soddin' Hell is going on here?" He started to sniff at the air, stopping to hone in on a familiar scent. "Oh, now I get it. Willow's in here somewhere, isn't she? I can smell her from here! Very clever, bit, using an invisible spell on yourself. Come out now, Willow!" He kicked the stone slab behind him, knocking it over with one blow. "Here, kitty, kitty...C'mon out, or I'll rip out Buffy's heart!"
The pipe arced high toward Spike's head again, but the vampire's reflexes were too fast. He dodged the flying metal rod, grabbing it in mid-air and wrenching it out of Willow's grasp. "Not this time, sister," Spike snarled, grasping at the air around him. Fortunately for Willow, she was fast enough to evade his capture, and ducked to the ground, grabbing some rocks and chunks of concrete as she rolled past him. Running to a corner of the crypt, she threw one rock at Spike, connecting with his shoulder blade. Spike spun around, lunging at the space where the rock came from, only to be pummeled by thrown debris from several angles. Spike howled in frustration for a moment, but then stood silently, his ears tensed, listening for the slightest sound.
Her increasingly labored breathing betrayed her. Spike grasped at the air to his left, and smiled as his hand curled harshly around her wrist. "Gotcha," he chuckled throatily. He dragged her across the floor, nodding in delight as he watched dust trails swirl from where her body was being dragged. "So much for your timely rescue, Slayer," he grinned. "We'll just keep her here until I'm done with you. And she'll be the first person you kill for me. Ain't that nice, Buf-UNGH!!!"
Buffy hit Spike hard and fast, her fists connecting with his head and chest while her knee impacted with his groin. Silently, she gave a quick prayer of thanks that Willow's attacks on Spike could buy her enough time to finish ripping through the leather straps. Once her wrists were freed, it was easy for her to break the restraints that bound her ankles. Having freed herself, she could now take the offensive against Spike.
"You pathetic..." A hard right to the chest. "...miserable..." A left hook to the jaw. "...BASTARD!" A boot to the kidneys, which sent Spike sprawling to the floor. "This is what the all-mighty Spike, Slayer of Slayers, has been reduced to? I should just stake you and put you out of your misery, but I'm not feeling charitable right now!" She kicked him hard in the side as he struggled to right himself. "Look at you, you sorry excuse for a monster. You claimed that only you could love me, that only you understood me. You don't understand me at all! Now Willow, she understands me. All you know is my darkness, because darkness is all you see in anyone. Willow saw the light in me, even when no one else ever did. And you dare to hurt her in front of me? You are nothing, Spike. And if I ever see you again, and I mean EVER, you won't survive it! You hear me?"
Spike's growl of purest rage shook the walls of the crypt, as he leapt on top of Buffy, straddling her waist, his strong arms pinning her wrists to the floor. "You know something, Buffy," he spat at her, "I think that the magic we once had is gone. Maybe we should see other people. No, I should see other people, you should die slowly!" Slowly he wrapped his hand around her throat, pressing hard against her windpipe. "At least now I can brag about killing three Slayers after tonight." And he began to squeeze...
Willow, unseen at Buffy's side, tried to wrestle Spike's hand away from Buffy's throat, but the vampire didn't even notice her, so intent was he on avenging his fallen manhood. She gritted her teeth in panic. She had finally realized what Buffy truly meant to her, and now faced losing her to Spike. With the chip in his head suppressed, he could kill now. And he was killing Buffy.
A stray thought hit Willow; the chip was suppressed. Not removed, suppressed. She glanced around the crypt, her eyes falling on the video game console discarded on the floor behind the fallen slab. Why, she asked herself, would Spike have an X-Box if he didn't even have a working television...
She dove quickly across the crypt and grabbed the Box. "Yo, Spike!" she shouted, waving the Box in front of the vampire's face. This caused Spike to loosen his grasp on Buffy's throat enough for her to resume breathing in ragged gasps. "Say," Willow piped up in a mock-innocent voice, "what does this do?"
"Put that thing down, you bitch!" Spike charged at the Box, which floated out of his grasp. Willow ran away from Spike, with the Box in her hand. Before Spike could jump her again, Willow located the dial on the side and turned it sharply to 'ten'.
Willow and Buffy smiled with grim satisfaction as Spike lurched violently, pain lancing through his skull. He screamed in agony, clutching his head in his hands and rolling on the floor. Willow took Buffy's hand in hers and helped her back to her feet. "You okay, Buffy?"
"I've...I've been better," Buffy admitted. "I'll be okay as soon as we get the hell out of here." She paused to give Spike a contemptuous glare.
"Kill...you...I'll kill...kill...AAAAGH!" Spike groaned, his body thrashing in spasms of pain. He curled up on the floor in a fetal ball, gritting his teeth so fiercely that Buffy thought she could see sparks flying out of his mouth. He couldn't lift himself from the floor, he could only writhe in total agony.
"You wanna stake him?" Willow asked.
Buffy shook her head absently in the direction of Willow's voice, answering; "No. It'd be an easy way out for him." Leaning against Willow, the weakened Slayer allowed herself to be escorted out of the crypt.
As soon as he could see Buffy stepping out of the crypt, Xander rushed to her side, gladly taking her weight on his shoulder. "You okay, Buffy?"
"I'll be better," Buffy nodded, "as soon as I get home and sleep for a month."
"I hear that," Xander nodded his head. Switching on his walkie-talkie with his free hand, he spoke out; "Tara, Buffy's out."
"Great," Tara breathed from her end. "Where's Willow?"
"Right here," the empty air next to Buffy called out. Although no one could see her, Buffy was gladdened by Willow's touch on her arm. Although she was still leaning on Xander, she allowed her fingertips to stray over the surface of Willow's skin, just at the juncture of her elbow. At least that's what she thought she was touching.
Tara, Victoria and Andrew emerged through a copse of trees, joining the others. Buffy smiled slightly when she saw what looked like a laser rifle from a cheap sci-fi movie slung over Andrew's shoulder. The invisibility ray, she figured. "What happened to Spike?" Tara asked. "Did you stake him?"
"No," Buffy answered slowly. "He's in there, but he's in no shape to attack anyone now." She glanced away from Xander and noticed the video-game console floating beside her. "Willow found the Black Box, and must have set it to the max."
"Warren must have been a fan of 'Spinal Tap'," Willow commented. "The setting for this thing goes all the way to eleven."
"Sounds like Warren," Andrew spat out in mild disgust. "I just wish I hadn't gotten mixed up with him."
"From what I'm guessing," Buffy commented, "Spike can't even think of hurting anyone now without the chip kicking in. And right now, all he can think of is killing us."
"Whoa, poetic justice much?" Xander quipped. "You know, I think I'll swing by here on my lunch break tomorrow, with a palette of bricks and some mortar, and seal the crypt door."
"Sounds like a plan," Willow snarled, her contempt for Spike clear in her voice.
"Yo, Willow," Andrew asked as the others were about to head out of the graveyard, "you ready to be visible again?"
"Yeah, let's do it," Willow answered. Holding up the X-Box in her hand, she announced, "Over here, Andrew."
Andrew took the invisibility gun in his hands, aimed it just above the floating electronic box, and squeezed the trigger. A bolt of energy arced from the rifle, directly at its unseen target. Slowly, a shape began to emerge, transparent at first but steadily gaining solidity. Within seconds, the others could see Willow, slightly disheveled but none the worse for her experience.
"Hi, guys," she smiled, "miss me?"
Buffy couldn't help but mirror Willow's smile, the sight of her beloved friend warming her heart to the core. "More than you can know, Willow," she answered, her voice quiet but thick with emotion. A slight stab of guilt over their earlier kiss the night before hit her heart, and she turned slightly toward Tara.
The blonde witch's blue eyes met Buffy's charcoal gray eyes, and she smiled gently toward the Slayer. "Go to her, Buffy," she urged her. "Tell her you love her." Victoria nodded approvingly, adding, "You both need this, Slayer. Go for it."
Buffy could feel the first tears forming in her eyes. She nudged at Xander to let go, and hobbled on unsteady legs, slowly bridging the gap between herself and the one she loved. Before she could reach her, however, a sudden whiff of acrid smoke obscured Buffy's vision, as a rough hand materialized out of nowhere, grabbing Buffy by the shoulder.
"Oh, please," the sandpapery voice rasped in Buffy's ear, "none of this lovey-dovey stuff, I swear I'll projectile all over the pair of you!" Rack's hands grabbed her arms like vises, and while still under the influence of Spike's muscle relaxants, Buffy could only thrash in vain in the beast's grasp.
"RACK!" Victoria shouted, raising her hands to her sides, an attack spell forming in her mind.
"One word of magic, Lady Marmalade," Rack threatened, releasing Buffy's right arm only to grab her neck, "and the Slayer dies!" Victoria slowly lowered her hands, as Rack regarded the others with a cold fury. "That goes for the lot of you. One word, one step toward me, one involuntary muscle twitch that I don't like, and I snap her neck."
"Don't listen to him," Buffy pleaded with her friends. "Take him down fastUNGH!" Rack twisted her arm behind her back, feeling a shoulder-blade pop under his hands.
"Y'know," Rack's words dripped like acid from his mouth, stinging and venomous, "you're not as powerful as I thought you'd be. I can feel power, Slayer. And I don't feel much from you. Did that fool vampire do something to you, Slayer? Must have. I felt power in you when we first slam-danced, but now..." He leaned his face toward Buffy, and licked the back of her neck, sending waves of revulsion to clench her jaw. "I just don't know what to do with you, Slayer."
Willow watched Rack defile her Buffy with his dark touch. She shuddered as Rack's tongue slicked its way along her neck. She stood back, afraid of this monster whom she had once allowed to degrade her with his vile magicks, fearing what he might do to Buffy. Slowly, fear gave way to a grim determination. She shifted her features into her best Resolve Face, and stepped forward.
"Let her go," Willow fought the tremors in her voice to speak clearly. "She's not who you want anyway, Rack."
The incubus cocked his head toward Willow, barking an unpleasant laugh. "And what do you intend to do, Strawberry?"
Willow swallowed hard, and spoke up; "Let her go, Rack. Let her walk freely away from you and toward me so I can say my goodbyes. In exchange, I will give myself to you, freely and without reservation."
Buffy's eyes shot open in horror when she heard Willow's offer. "No, no, don't do this, Willow," she murmured, as Rack tightened his grip on her neck. "Don't give yourself to him!"
"You will not try to run away from me, ever?" Rack quizzed Willow.
"Never," Willow nodded. "Let her go, and I will belong to you."
Rack smiled darkly, and declared, "Done."
As Buffy felt Rack's hands release her, she could feel her heart begin to shatter into a thousand shards.