Title : Once Bitten
Author : Tariq ( formerly Aeris Jade Orion )
Rating : R
Pairing : WR/TM
Timeline : Season Six
Summary : Willow is an ancient warrior of
the light. One who is very aware of the truth
about the Watchers Council.
Authors note: It's unbeta'd. At the moment I
have no beta reader for this genre. So drop me
a line if you're interested.
Second, due to health issues, and taking care
of my disabled mom, I haven't been able to
write much. But over the last several years
I've managed to slowly write on a number
of stories.
What I've decided to do is go ahead and
publish what I've managed to put together.
The stories are unfinished, and sometimes,
the last chapter I worked on is unfinished.
Plus, there maybe multiple chapters, each one a
different version. Just warning everyone.
So I apologize in advance.
Disclaimer : Not mine. All characters belong
to Joss Whedon.
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Prologue
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Willow flipped the innocent postcard over in
her hands. The image of the Vatican standing
out against a bright sun lit sky. She turned
it back over, fingers tracing the red postmark.
An alchemy symbol, Uroboros. The snake in a
circle biting it's own tail. The never ending
cycle. Infinity. The beginning and the end.
Green eyes glanced to the far left. To the bold,
cursive script. Written with a foutain pen. It
was very short. Too short for anyone other than
her to get it.
At the bottom was initials. Dr. V.H.
She rescanned the message again.
" We're here. Call when it's time. "
' Oh Goddess... No... '
00000
1897
00000
" Must I? " Willow questioned in exasperation.
It really hadn't been her year. It wasn't that she
disliked her life. While she freely admitted she
hated the current attitudes towards women, and boy,
did she ever, it didn't touch her very often.
Most of her time was spent deep in the bowels of
the Vatican. Or on a deadly mission, hunting
monsters. So she could forgive the ignorant fools
who chained down the females who should rightfully
rule the lands. At least for now.
No, the problem was the Head of the Templars was
currently off dealing with Dracula, and Willow was
left with his mess. A complicated mess by the name
of Randolf Moore.
A gypsy, were hybrid, with a mad scientist
complex. The man had no compuncture with cutting
into himself, or injecting himself with untried
chemicals. Mix in magic and she had a pounding
migraine.
" I do apologize, Dr. Powers. " Young Richards
blushed. " I did try to explain to Dr. Van Helsing,
but you are aware of how he gets were Dracula is
concerned. "
" I know, Mr. Richards. " She brushed off. It wasn't
her assisstants fault.
Aberaham had a grudge against Dracula. The vampire
had killed the Head's only son. No, not just killed,
held captured and tortured to death.
" However, the information we have on Randolf is
lacking. We have no idea what lythropy he has
been infected with, or what experiments he has
performed on himself. " Willow rubbed at her
pounding forehead.
" I understand, but Dr. Van Helsing's orders are
clear. " Richards shifted nervously. " There's
also been talk from upstairs. The Pope is
concerned about the recent attacks. "
Willow sighed heavily, nodding once in
understanding.
The Vatican was a strict and scary power. They
allowed a lot. Women, witches, gypsys, even
good demons, into the Templars. Just as long as
they under went certain rituals and were marked
by the Pope himself.
They were the Pope's army against the darkness.
The thing they kept the world blind about. Hundreds
of normals, and magicals working together to make
the world safe.
She stood up to get to work. Moore wouldn't kill
himself, and it take her hours, if not days to
hunt him.
Black magic rained down on them. Power shaking
the underground base. Dust came loose, sprinkling
everything. Books fell from her bookcases, and
the single painting she had came crashing to the
floor.
It felt like an earthquake under her feet. Building
up quickily. Richards lost his balance immediately,
taking out a chair. Her office door tore away and
came down on him.
Willow's magic anchored her to the floor. She
snatched up a set of single blade, dual axe's.
The back half had a round hammer like protrusion,
so she could even use them for nonlethal battle.
She attached the sheath to her belt and raced for
the stairs to the upper levels. Relief filled her
at the sight of the artifact room and library
under lock down.
No one would be getting in them now.
" Dr. Powers! " Rosemary cried out. " It's the
Council! They're attacking us! They have the
Slayer with them! "
Willow stumbled at the surprising words. Yeah,
okay the Council had always hated the Templars.
The Watchers, and the Slayer had orders to
attack on sight. But to outright attack the
Vatican...?
She sprinted up the stairs. Level after level,
and into the depths of hell.
' Goddess, why...? '
11111
Chapter One
11111
Willow smiled in relief from her bedroom window.
Xander and Buffy were in the backyard talking.
It would be a lot of work, but they would be
okay.
Though, she somehow didn't see Xander letting
Buffy forget the Spike thing anytime soon.
Now, she just had to make a decision about Tara.
She loved her more than anyone she'd ever had a
relationship with. Unfortunately, she had a
number of secrets which had lead to their many
fights, and eventually, their break-up.
If she decided Tara was truly worth it, she
would have to come clean. Spilling secrets she
wasn't sure should ever be revealed. Even to
the woman she loved.
She gasped in pain, taking a single step back,
and bonelessly folding to the floor. Blood
splattered the walls and curtains. Pooling
around her body.
The sun shifted through cracked glass, revealing
three bullet holes. Red dripping from the glass
in glistening dew drops.
The red head blinked through the strange dream.
A shaking hand clumsily tracing her forehead and
pausing at the spiderwebbed location of her left
temple, aiming toward the back of her head.
' Oh... '
She withdrew her hand to her chest, wincing as it
landed immediatly on another wound. Almost right
over her heart. Just missing it by centimeters,
if even that much.
Willow continued over to the right and wished
she hadn't. Over her lung was the last bullet
hole. Explaining why she was having trouble
breathing.
She'd been in worse situations, of course. Hell,
she'd be right as rain in a little while. She
just needed to...
She glanced around the white abyss in surprise.
Then down at her self, to see her wounds still
present and bleeding rather badly.
" Will? " " Buffy appeared. " Oh god, you're
hurt! "
" So are you. " Willow responded.
Buffy had been shot, too. A direct shot to the
heart. The slayer's grey sweatshirt was heavy
with blood, and gaining more every second. Too
much, too fast.
Buffy was dying.
Willow approached her best friend, hugging the
slender blonde tightly. It was funny how fate
worked, but sometimes it was for the best.
She channeled her healing into the blonde. First,
the bullet had to come out. Then, the body had to
be healed. The heart, the blood vessels, the veins,
and more blood had to be produced.
The witch felt her body weaken rapidly. Her
breathing worsen until her right lung collapsed.
Thinking became harder, and harder.
" Will! " Buffy supported her full wait. " What's
happening? What did you do? "
" Tell... Tara... I... love..." She faded back
to her body.
She opened her eyes to her bedroom gasping and
fighting for each breath. Blood bubbled from her
mouth, foaming, and running out.
" Buffy! Willow! Is anyone here? Tara! "
Footsteps approached and something hit the
carpet close by. There was a small gasp, then
running fading down the stairs.
' Dawn. How much more is she going to suffer? '
She wondered through the haze of her muddled mind.
More running was heard, this time coming back.
Then she blurrily saw Dawn kneeling beside her.
The teen dropped the cordless on the floor, along
with an armful of towels.
She moaned as the teen shifted her body and packed
folded towels under her. Dawn placed three thick
towels against each wound making it extremely
uncomfortably to lay there.
Worse, the teen did the same to the front. Tightly
holding the towels against the bullet holes. Her
long slender hands quickly becoming coated with
the slick liquid.
" I'm sorry! " Dawn apologized with a flinch.
Willow smiled weakly at the earnest teen. Managing
to bring her hands up to lay on the teens.
" Dawnie... " She rasped. " ...my will is in my
book of shadows. "
" Don't talk like that! You'll be fine! The
ambulance is on the way! "
Willow closed her eyes slowly. She was just so
tired. So bloody tired. Too many fights. Too
many deaths.
Just too much.
11111
1897
11111
Willow flipped off the ceiling, spinning twice,
and landed in the middle of the six collapsing
bodies of potential slayers. She pushed off the
balls of her feet, darting in and out of the
magical addicts from the Council. Her axes
slashing throats, severing arteries, and taking
off heads.
She grimly saw her comrades dying around her. The
hundreds of mercenary demons and were's the
Council had hired easily overtaking them. Hell, she
was having an equally hard time.
Her magic abilities the only reason she was still
fighting.
' But where's the thrice damned Slayer? '
She leaped down the staircase to the next level.
Dashing through the chaos, her axes and magic
lashing out at anyone in her way.
A piercing scream of death rattled the war inside
the halls of the Templars. Richards cracking voice
making the hair on her neck stand up.
Willow speed toward her office. She knew she was
too late to save him from his scream. But she'd
be damned if she didn't avenge his death.
She entered the room which had once been her haven,
and stared in the black eyes of the sixteen year
old Slayer. Blood ran from her black hair. The
dress with more layers than an onion was covered
in skin and pieces of Richards insides.
Richards. Seventeen. Just barely a man. Engaged
to be married to a his childhood sweetheart.
The red head's eyes flickered to his body and
back to the Slayer. She'd gutted him. From his
pelvic bone up to his chin, from shoulder to
shoulder. Gouged both eyes out, tore his tongue
out.
Twitching her wrists, all the accumalated blood
slid off them, leaving them clean. The red bladed
axes glistened in the shadowed office. The quarter
moon shaped blades raised up thirsting for their
first Slayer kill.
The Slayer cocked her head with a grim twist of
her lips. Not a smile, or smirk. Just a little
pull of satisfaction. Of pleasure. Demonic,
manic, slightly peaceful.
A dagger hung in the dark haired woman's right
hand. A plain weapon. Nothing special about it.
Just a dagger. Something to wield and forget.
Willow felt the carefully oiled black leather
covering brass handles of her axes. It was so
soft from years of use. Braids of dyed red
leather gave her hands better grips, preventing
slipping.
She forced her breathing to slow through the
sweat dripping down her face. Into her mouth,
the salty liquid stinging her split lip, and
cut up tongue.
Then the Slayer was on her.
The fight was a blur of rage. Both women angrier
than the other. The Slayer at her slavery to the
Council, and Willow at what the Slayer allowed
the Council to mold her into.
Blades lashed out in lightening fast strikes.
Fists and feet trying to pound the other into
the grave. Strangely silent other than the raspy
gasps for breath, and grunts of pain.
Willow, however, noticed one thing. In all the
dirty fighting. All the attempts to slash each
others throats. The need to make blood run.
The Slayer was strangely slow.
Not a lot. Not even enough to be noticeable by
most people. It was just by a second. One second
was more than enough for the right person to kill
a seasoned Slayer.
' She's suicidal. ' Without a hint of sympathy.
She twisted around the dagger as the Slayer
overextended. Her arms crossed over and she
uncrossed them, taking the warriors head with
her axes.
Willow ran from her office. She sent her magic
out into the building, searching the living
potentials for the next Slayer.
' There! '
Jack rabbiting over a werewolf, she buried both
of her axes in the back of the new Slayer before
she could take a single step. The teen feel dead
at her feet and she wrenched her weapons free.
The witch spun around, killing the werewolf, and
ran for the next potential.
' I have to save the Templars. I have too. '
In the distance, she saw Rosemary fall to a
werebear. The gypsy being eaten alive. Claws
and teeth coming up for a moment with glee,
to dig back into the moving, screaming body.
' Goddess, please, help us. ' Willow prayed as
silent tears fell while she killed another Slayer.
' Somebody, please, help us. '
22222
Chapter Two
22222
She was in pure, unadulterated agony. Her head was
pounding something fierce. It was fuzzy and felt
stuffed with cotton. Thick bandages were wrapped
tightly around it.
Similar bandages were on her chest. Completely
covering her from her shoulders to her belly
button. Thick, with heavy padding added to
them.
Willow swore her chest was one large bruise.
With bone deep pain radiating outward. It felt
like someone had sliced her up, and put the
pieces back willy nilly.
' A penny for pain killers. ' She moaned. ' Or
at least a bottle of whiskey. '
Reluctant to face the world of hospitals and
bad guys who cheated, she cracked her eyes
open.
' Bad idea. '
She was in a private room. On one side of her
bed was Tara with a death grip on her hand and
Dawn, on the other was Buffy and Xander. Giles
was at the end of the bed.
" You're awake. " Tara smiled shakenly.
" I'll get the nurse. " Xander squeezed Willow's
leg, then left the room quickly.
" You scared the crap out of us. " Buffy took her
other hand. The Slayer's hazel eyes watery. " Don't
ever do that again, understand? "
" Yes, ma'am. " She mumbled weakly. " No dying. "
-
To Be Continued