Summary: Set after Tabula Rasa. Drusilla has a vision of Willow trying to destroy the world, and returns to Sunnydale to help her. Things don't go as she'd planned.

Author's note: So, here's the first chapter of my new story. First one I've written for years that isn't a crossover. Hope you enjoy. If you like it please review. This will be updated every two weeks, on Thursday or Friday.


A Dark Vision

Chapter One:

The Vision


Drusilla looked upon the chaos before her. There was blackness all around, swirling in her mind like silken ribbons. She saw so many things, but hardly knew what they meant. Her mind had never been clear, and it seemed worse than ever now she was alone. So many things inside, whispering to her, her darkest dreams come to life. Those visions were unbearable.

And she really hadn't been able to bear them, not for long. Not once Angel had come and ruined everything, ripping her away from her family, and everything she'd once held dear. Naughty Angel, he always ruined things. He'd broken her, he'd tried to break the Slayer. That hadn't worked well. She'd stabbed him, and it had all gone wrong. They were supposed to end it all, but the Slayer had stopped it. Her Spike had even helped her. Why had they wanted her to be miserable? The betrayal hurt.

One of the things Drusilla could see in the tangled web of images stood out to her. A girl, all alone, hurting so much. Feeling the pain of the whole world all at once, more than any one person could take. And she saw what that girl became, and what she could achieve, and smiled to herself.

This vision wasn't quite like the others. It was strangely clear, and much stronger. Drusilla, who had trouble telling dream from reality at the best of times, felt cast adrift by this vision. She wasn't merely seeing it, but inside it. It didn't replace the world around her so much as overlap it, blending different layers of reality that were never supposed to touch. She couldn't quite remember which was which. Everything was confusion. She didn't know where she was, or what was happening, or where she was supposed to be.

But she did know what she was seeing, more or less. She saw the witch, more powerful than ever. She saw her destroying the world, tearing everything down. She couldn't see why. All she could see was the beautiful witch before her. She looked into those black eyes, like pools of water under the night sky, and reached to touch the witch. She almost thought she might feel her, but her searching fingers met only empty air. The vision dissipated like smoke fading in the breeze.

Drusilla looked around, trying to remember where she was. The room looked unfamiliar to her for a moment. For some reason she had expected to see the town house she had shared with Spike during their trip to Prague. That had been a very nice trip, other than the angry mob bit at the end... that had been quite unpleasant. As she realised where and when she was now, she almost wished she was back there. She hadn't been alone then. Spike had taken care of her. He'd comforted her when she had her visions, or when the memories of her past became too much for her. But there was no one to comfort her now. Now one to remind her where she was, or tell her she was safe when forgot. She walked to the window and looked out over the city.

The city sparkled at night, lit up from below by myriad electric lights. But they drowned out the stars. Drusilla looked up at the almost-empty sky. The few stars she could see were whispering, muffled. She remembered when she had tried to name them, back when she was still with Spike. She wondered where Spike was now. Still in Sunnydale, lusting after that Slayer? That was where she had left him. And Darla? Drusilla knew what had happened to Darla, and she certainly wasn't where Drusilla had left her. She was gone again, back to dust. She hadn't even given Drusilla a chance to say goodbye to her.

Drusilla didn't really know what she was doing here. After Darla had left her, she had thought of going to Europe again, perhaps back to England. But she had come here, to the City of Angels. It was the only place she could come where she would be close to any sort of family. Angel was here, although Drusilla wouldn't dare to let him know that she was. He'd probably stake her as soon as she saw her if she was looking. He might set her on fire again. Who knew?

There was nothing here for her. She knew that. And now that she had seen the dream of the pretty witch, she knew where she could go. If her old family had abandoned her, she would make a new one for herself. She was going to see the witch.


The crypt door burst open.

"Buffy? That you?" he called from his chair without turning, a hopeful note in his voice. When someone stormed into his crypt, it was usually her. Wouldn't usually be a demon—they knew he could hurt them, and weren't quite as willing to piss him off as Buffy and her chums.

But this wasn't Buffy; he knew that even without looking. He had her scent committed to memory. He'd used to fool himself into thinking that was some predatory thing, but he'd quit trying to convince himself of that aeons ago. Well, a year ago. Felt more like aeons.

He turned around, surprised to see his sire standing there in the doorway, deadly beautiful as ever. Clad in a black and red dress, like blood and fire brought to life in the candlelit shadows of the crypt. She began walking towards him. The sight of her stole his breath. Well, it would have, had he breath to steal.

"What are you doing here, Dru?"

She moved towards him, black and red dress swirling as she walked, bare feet silent on the stone floor. Spike looked at her face, like stone itself. Hard to read. She was like a ghost from the past, come to him to exact some vengeance. Of course, that wasn't really why she was here. He hoped.

"I can come and go where I please," Drusilla said.

"But you said last time... er, what was it… Even you couldn't help me now?"

"It's not you I'm here for, dear William." She reached out to touch his face, her fingers lightly brushing his cheek and then settling again at her side. "You have a different role now," she said. A smile spread across her face. "I'm here for the witch."

"The witch... Take it you mean Willow. What d'you wanna see her for? There a spell that needs doing or something?"

Drusilla shook her head. "She's in danger. Putting the whole world at risk. I saw it," she said. Her eyes widened, lit up by her thoughts. "Such a pretty catastrophe, everything burning, crumbling to dust."

"What, Willow's going off the deep end now, with all the magic? Figured as much really. Makes sense, what with the way she's been going recently. With her bringing Buffy back from the dead and everything. That's pretty dark stuff." He stopped talking for a minute. "You want anything? Some blood, maybe? Got plenty in the fridge."

"You think I want the blood of swine?" The look on Drusilla's said everything about what she thought about that idea. She looked faintly sick at the thought, and Spike didn't blame her. Even he hated pig's blood. One of the better types of animal blood, but couldn't come close to being compared with the real thing. Warm, human blood, flowing straight out of the vein, his teeth tearing through flesh... That thought didn't do any good. Unless he got this sodding chip out of his head, he'd never be able to feel that again.

"No, of course not. You're still killing humans," he said.

"So would you be, if you could."

"Yeah, I know," he said, frowning. Of course he would be. He'd dreamed about it often enough. So why was he surprised? "So, if you came here for the witch, what are you in my crypt for? Cause, let me tell you, Willow isn't exactly here often."

"I thought it might be nice to see how you were."

"So… what, you just came here to say hi?"

Drusilla tilted her head. "I suppose," she said. She looked over at the T.V, which was still turned on, though Spike had never been paying attention to it in the first place. "What are you watching?"

"Nothing," Spike said. He got up and turned the TV off. It was pointless to leave it on now, when he wasn't even watching it. Just wasting electric. Not that he cared, since he wasn't paying a bill to start with. Didn't care about the environment either, soulless monster as he was. In fact, he thought the whole global warming thing was a bit funny himself—humans bringing forth their own destruction and all that. But he turned it off anyway. All the noise made it hard to focus.

"You're thinking of her. The Slayer," Drusilla said, hissing the title like it was an insult.

Spike looked away. He didn't want to tell her what he was thinking, though of course she knew already. It was Dru, after all. She knew what people were thinking, thanks to those little psychic gifts of hers. Him most of all—he was sure she didn't even need to read his mind. He was already an open book to her. "What about it?"

"Nothing," Drusilla said. Spike frowned. After the last time they had seen each other, he could hardly bear to look at her. They had belonged to each other for so long, been their very worlds, but last year he'd threatened to kill her. Had seemed like a good idea at the time, somehow. Kill the love of his unlife, impress the Slayer. But she hadn't even understood what it meant. And with Drusilla standing here now, no Slayer in sight, it seemed unbelievable. Had it really been only four years that they'd been apart? It felt like a lifetime...

He reached out to her, ready to embrace her. He leaned in close, inhaling the scent of her, never forgotten. Everything about her here filled with longing and desire. He went to touch her, but she slapped him away, her eyes aflame.

"Hands off!" she said. "You're not mine. Not anymore. Don't pretend. I don't want you to pretend."

"I'm not pretending," Spike whispered, and thought he meant it.

"Oh, you are. Not mine anymore, Spike. Your thoughts all belong to her."

He wanted to argue. Wanted to say that his thoughts were his own, that no other person could own them. But he could sense the truth in her words. He had loved Drusilla. Still did. But now he loved Buffy, and now it was Buffy who was always on his mind. Stealing it from him, every waking second. Bloody hell, every sleeping second even!

And Drusilla didn't seem to mind. She wasn't angry. If anything, she looked sad, pitying. It hurt him to see her look at him like that. She used to always look at him with such passion, whether it be in love, lust or rage. But the soft sadness in her expression now… It tore his heart up.

"My thoughts might be hers, but that doesn't make much difference right now."

Drusilla shook her head. "Something will change and you'll be even more hers. You'll never be the same as you were."

"Yeah? That last bit's probably right," Spike said. "So where are you going next? Find the witch? She won't be pleased to see you."

"Not time yet," Drusilla said. "But it will be soon. And I'll have a new family."

"A new family?"

"Yes. A new one. You all left me. Angelus got a soul. You're in love with the Slayer. Darla…"

"What happened to Darla?" Spike asked. "You were together a while ago, weren't you? Where'd she go?"

"She left me. She didn't tell me why. She thinks I don't know, but I do. It was for the child, the one of dreams and prophecies. She didn't want it. Why should it have been hers? I might have liked one for myself, but the stars didn't want it to be so. She found out about it and left me, but then it was her downfall. She's gone now, dust in still air."

"What are you talking about, Dru?"

"I already said, didn't I?"

"Not in a way that makes a lot of sense, no."

Drusilla cocked her head, a strange look in her eyes. She took a few moments to think before speaking again. "It made lots of sense. She was going to be a mother, but didn't tell me. She didn't want me to know she was hurting."

"Pfft. Yeah, that sounds like her. Who'd she sire this time then? Some idiot to take Angelus's place?" Spike asked.

"No. She didn't sire anyone."

"But you said she was going to be a mother. What else would you mean? Never mind. So you said you were here to see Willow?"

"Yes. She needs help. Her soul is calling to the darkness, and I will answer," Drusilla said.

She turned away and strode towards the door, her skirts swishing around her legs as she walked. She paused, one hand on the handle of the crypt's inner door. "Goodbye, my William," she said before leaving. The door closed behind her, and she was gone.

Spike was alone again. Seemed like that happened a lot. He sighed, and sat back down on the chair, grabbing the remote as he did so. Guess it was time for some more rubbish telly.


Willow missed Tara. She didn't know why she'd had to leave. Well, okay, she knew. Tara had told her that she was worried about the magic, and that she couldn't trust her. She just couldn't quite understand. Understanding things was hard. She looked over at Amy, in her cage. She was chewing the bars again, as bored and lonely as Willow felt. Tara had told Willow she should get another rat friend for her, but Willow didn't think that was such a good idea. She didn't know how a real rat would respond to Amy, or how Amy would respond to a real rat. She thought it was better just to leave her alone.

A knock on the door startled Willow from her reverie.

"Willow?" called a voice from the other side. "Can I come in?"

"Sure."

Buffy opened the door and walked in. "Hey, Will," she said, still standing awkwardly in the doorway. Willow wondered why she wasn't just coming in properly. Did she think she'd bite? Did she agree with Tara, that her magic was dangerous? Willow didn't think so. Not really. Yeah, so the forces she commanded sometimes were super-powerful, but she commanded them. She had control. Or she thought she did. And she'd managed to cast that back-from-the-dead spell without anything really bad happening. Although she had ripped her friend out of Heaven and made her claw her way out of her own grave…

Willow blinked. She'd really spaced out there, hadn't she? She put a smile on her face, though even without seeing, she knew it wouldn't reach her eyes... "Hey Buffy," she said. "Why are you standing over there, come sit down."

Buffy walked over and sat beside Willow. It still felt like they were miles away.

"What did you come here for?" Willow asked.

"I just… kinda wanted to make sure you were okay. You know, with everything that happened with you and Tara. I wanted to make sure you weren't too depressed," Buffy said.

"Well, I'm okay. So you can stop worrying," Willow told her.

Buffy didn't seem convinced, and Willow wasn't surprised. Buffy was her closest friend, there was no way she could fool her. But she didn't say anything. It looked like she was feeling pretty bad herself, Willow thought. Still, she didn't say anything. What was it she needed to say but couldn't? Willow didn't know. She couldn't properly know what Buffy was feeling these days, which was bad. They'd been such close friends, but ever since Buffy had come back, she didn't seem to trust Willow as well as she'd used to. She didn't seem to trust anyone as much, except maybe Giles, who hadn't been involved in bringing her back. But now Giles had gone back to England. Willow could try to imagine what Buffy was feeling, but she was sure it would do no good. All she knew was what she herself felt, which wasn't really that great.

They sat in silence for a while. Both of them had things they wanted to say, Willow was sure of that. But the courage to say them... maybe that was what was missing. But why should they need courage to confide in each other, when they'd known each other for so long? Courage was the last thing they should need around each other.

"I saw Tara earlier," Buffy said at last.

Willow looked up at her. "Really? What did she say? Did you talk to her? Did she say anything about me?"

"Not really. We kind of just said hi. I only saw her for a few seconds when I was leaving the training room to go patrol. She'd just gone to the Magic Box to get some supplies or whatever."

"How was she?" Willow asked.

"Uh... I guess she seemed okay? It's kind of hard for me to say. Like I said, we didn't really talk for long. It's not like we stood around chatting for a half hour or anything. But I think she was okay."

The quiet came back, like a shroud separating them. Willow shifted nervously where she sat.

"So, you said you went patrolling. Anything interesting happen? Run into any scary demons?"

"No, it was a pretty slow night. Staked a couple of newly-risen vamps and saw... nothing much." Buffy said. Willow thought she'd been about to say something else, but she didn't know what. It couldn't be anything important though, or she'd tell her. "I guess I'll go now," Buffy said.

"Okay," Willow said. She wanted to tell her to stay, to make her feel better, but it would do no good. What was the point in asking her to stay when they weren't even speaking to each other anyway? Buffy got up and left, and Willow lay back on her bed.

There was a cool breeze coming through the window, and she shivered. She got up to close it. As she did so, she thought she saw someone, in the corner of her eye. A woman standing outside, clutching a doll to her side, with dark hair blowing gently in the breeze. When Willow looked again, she was gone.