Webs - II
'Life is never easy for those who dream' - Robert James Waller
'El Motel Luciérnaga ', New Mexico
2005
She had dreamed of him often since the day they had first met all those years ago, but never with such frequency as the last six months had brought.
Buffy Summers had only to close her eyes and his form was before her, every bit as striking as she remembered it to be. She had lived an entire lifetime in the warmth of his arms within the realms of her dreams, but that was all in the past now. The present brought to her only nightmares; visions that wrenched her from her slumber in cold sweats, and left her screaming and reaching out for a body she had not held against her own for several years.
Her friends worried for her health as Buffy stumbled through the days with all the attentiveness and enthusiasm of a coma patient. She woke, she ate a little, she trained, she slayed with precision, and once more she slipped into the recesses of her troubled mind only to reawaken through the night crying out for Angel.
Tonight, Buffy refused to play the game. She sat at the table in her motel room nursing a mug of coffee that had already seen five refills. Buffy had ingested so much caffeine that her hands were shaking, and she was grateful that Faith was currently covering the night patrols since she would not have immediately trusted her own aim.
"This must end, Buffy," Rupert Giles said softly, laying his hand over Buffy's to prevent her from once more raising the mug to her lips. Buffy nodded and grimaced.
"Yeah, this coffee is starting to taste kind of like lighter fuel," she replied, her smile forced, "maybe I'll switch to tea, you know, walk on the wild side."
Giles sighed, shook his head, and began cleaning his glasses as he always did when he was perplexed by something.
"I presume you are still having the dreams?" he pressed, blowing on the lenses and scrubbing at an invisible spot with the sleeve of his jacket. Buffy sensed he simply could not meet her gaze.
"No Giles, I'm drinking three gallons of cheap motel java at three in the morning 'cos I lost a bet," Buffy snapped, rubbing at her eyes wearily and not caring that she was likely leaving smudges of mascara in the wake of her fingertips.
Giles ignored her sourness and flipped open a book that had sat untouched on the table before him for the last hour. He was worried for his charge.
The nightmares had arrived six months ago when, unbeknown to the world, the fate of L.A. had already hung in the balance. That first night, Buffy had dreamed of Angel and his modest band of warriors, surrounded and falling fast as the gates of Hell literally opened onto the streets of Los Angeles. Buffy, Willow, Giles, and a group of promising potentials had left Rome that night, catching the first available flight and arriving outside L.A. only to find that the cavalry was too late. Some kind of force field surrounded the place and, upon stepping over the city limits, L.A. had spat Buffy out like a piece of chewed up gum. Despite Willow's best efforts, the energy field remained in place and nothing had come in or out of Los Angeles for those six months. Including Angel.
The government had set up a constant military guard around the city, claiming that Los Angeles had fallen victim to terrorist attack and would be shut down indefinitely. Thousands were believed to be dead and, although Buffy did not want to admit it, that much was probably true. L.A. was now the playground for every nasty the Hell dimension could spare, and Angel alone could not have stopped the human population from being slaughtered like the lambs they were. What the demons wanted with the city, the Scoobies could only guess, but if Buffy's dreams were accurate then it had something to do with Angel.
Buffy had refused to return to the potential training school they had established in Rome until she had discovered Angel's fate. The last six months had been spent flitting from America to Canada to Mexico to America once again. Try as she may, Buffy could not settle in one place for too long.
"I have to find a way into that city Giles," Buffy said quietly. "I have to know if Angel is still alive."
Her eyes were downcast but Giles could see the fresh tears shining within them. His heart bled for the woman he had come to regard as his daughter.
"We will find one, Buffy. I assure you," Giles promised, his voice brimming with fatherly concern. He wished with all his heart that he could allay her fears but he knew all too well that Angel's safety was rather precarious given the situation.
"But for now, why not rest? You can be of no use to anyone in your current state."
Reluctantly, Buffy nodded and shot Giles a small smile as a yawn cut off her impending speech. She opened her mouth to reply when the door of the motel room burst open to reveal a rather flushed Willow clad in a pair of cow print pyjamas.
Dawn, who had been sleeping in one of the twin beds, her hair in rollers and a mud mask covering her face, sat bolt upright and let out a shriek.
"Take the cheese but leave the pistachios, Captain Sparrow!" she yelped. As she peered around her with her mouth open, Dawn's ears began to rapidly turn crimson, an indication that beneath her mask she was most definitely blushing.
Buffy arched an eyebrow but the sarcastic quip died on her lips as Willow blurted, "It's L.A. The US Marines have parachuted in. Giles, the energy field must be down."