Author's Note: Long segment today, but I really couldn't break it. These two parts really need to be together.
Buffy was locked in a cell in a place called 'the Initiative.'
It was a tiny cell of glowing white. The front was some kind of plastic — but electrified. She had nothing to do. All she could do was wait, think, and worry.
Dawn was in the cell to the right of her. Buffy didn't know what they had done to her. Dawn never spoke. Dawn never sounded like she was moving. Sometimes, Buffy would see her getting dragged out of her cell, and wheeled off somewhere. She always looked comatose and pale. It made Buffy want to cry.
Sometimes, she did cry.
But most of the time, Buffy spent her days convincing herself that her sister was fine, as she sat in her cell with her back against the leftmost wall.
She could almost feel him, in the cell next to her, leaning against exactly the same spot. Take away the wall — and their backs would be touching.
"Locked up, together, forever," Buffy mused, dully, staring at the white wall opposite her. "I guess we should get used to it."
He just sighed.
"Are you okay?" Buffy asked. "She beat you up pretty badly."
"Always okay," he said. But he didn't sound very always okay to Buffy.
They said nothing, for a while.
"We will get out of here, you know," the Doctor told her, at last.
Buffy just gave a harsh, bitter laugh. "To do what?" She rested a hand on her knee. "Giles is dead. Willow and Xander are dead. My dad died way back. The whole rest of my family, too — except for Mom, who's been brainwashed to serve the Goddess without question, and Dawn… and I don't know what they've done to…"
"But they shouldn't be," the Doctor reminded her. "This shouldn't be how it is."
The more Buffy thought about it, though, the more she questioned whether or not he was right. Was there any way back from this? Sometimes, Buffy was afraid that there wasn't. That this was it.
"Don't lose hope," the Doctor told her.
She tried not to. But it was hard. It was so… so hard.
Especially when the scientists studied and hurt her.
Especially when she watched them hauling away her sister.
Especially when she saw them doing who-even-knew-what to the Doctor.
"Timeline congruity," the Doctor explained, once, when he'd been dumped back in his cell. He sounded hoarse, and Buffy wondered if he'd been screaming for the last few hours since she'd seen him. "I'm the anomaly. She likes that, because she likes that I can remember her properly. But to work with her plans, she also needs to snap me mostly back into this reality, so I can assimilate and my personal timeline can stabilize along her intended path. It's just…" He coughed. "Bit painful."
"She wants you to hate her?" Buffy asked.
He said nothing, for a few seconds. "Love and hate, I think," he decided. He broke down into a fit of coughing. "Wants me to remember her, as she was… and feel the pain of knowing it's her who did all this, now." He paused. Then, with a bitter laugh, "She still calls me 'Father', you know. Just the way she used to… affectionate and sweet. Says it even while butchering my companions."
"Yep. 'Mom' — always 'Mom'," Buffy put in. Tucked up her knees to her chest. "I guess, if I could remember her, properly… that'd kill me, inside, every time she said it."
The Doctor didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Of course, there were also the times that the Initiative guys took Buffy out of her cell and 'tested' her. Drilled sharp things into her skin. Made her scream. Shot energy weapons at her. Pitted her against the most horrible evil she could imagine — until she was bloody and beat up and bruised.
"And the Initiative guys never call us by our names," Buffy said, leaning against the wall she shared with the Doctor. "Hostile 30. That's me."
"29," the Doctor said.
Dawn was 31.
"Still," the Doctor put in, "beats 'Father' and 'Mum'."
Buffy wasn't so sure about that, actually. At least, not to someone like her, who couldn't remember.
"Yeah, but it's just like… I'm not even a person, in the Initiative's eyes," Buffy said. "Either I'm the Slayer, or I'm some temporal ooga-booga thing that they have to poke and inject and slice open, to see how I work."
The Doctor sucked in a sharp breath. "They haven't really sliced you…?"
Buffy hugged her knees. "Not yet — but I know it's coming. I've seen them doing it to others, here." She dropped her head onto her knees, and felt a small smile creep up her face, as she heard a sigh of relief, from the other side of the wall. "Would you have shouted at them, if I'd said yes?"
"Not sure what I'd have done, to be honest. More than shout."
"If they ever do it to you," Buffy offered, "I'll beat them to a Slayer-style pulp. How's that?"
He laughed, a little. But didn't answer her.
Things dropped for Buffy, from the food-hatch, above. Not just food (drugged), but also pictures, photos, books. Once, they gave her Giles' severed head.
Another time, they gave her a sketchbook that Angel had made, back in 1875, of what he'd done to Seo. He wrote in enthusiastic descriptions, as well. Buffy couldn't deal with it.
"Do you get literature of the creepy genre, too?" Buffy asked.
The Doctor said nothing for a long time.
"My… friends," he said, at last. "She's been showing me… my friends." He hissed. "Trying to force memories into my head of watching it happen, too. Just to get me in sync with the timeline. That's the worst."
Buffy prodded the creepy sketchbook with her shoe, trying to scoot it away from her. "Did you get the creepy Angelus-breaking-Seo book?"
The Doctor sighed — a bitterly angry, thoroughly disgusted sigh. "Photocopy. Currently in many tiny little pieces on the floor of this cell."
Buffy thought that sounded pretty good to her. She did the same to her book.
It didn't matter, of course. They just gave them both the books, again. More and more copies.
"I keep getting scared," Buffy admitted, one day, "that one of these days… I'll call your name, and you won't be there."
"Not leaving without you," the Doctor assured her.
Buffy closed her eyes and tried to imagine them sitting back-to-back — without the wall in between them. It made her feel better, to think about them like that. Together. A team.
And the Doctor, true to his word, never tried to escape without her.
He did, however, try to escape a lot.
"Couldn't we give it a rest with the escape thing?" Buffy asked him, after the commandos beat him almost senseless, following one such escape attempt. "You're going to kill yourself."
"One of these days, something will work," the Doctor insisted. "I know it will."
So he kept trying.
And he kept failing.
"Blimey," the Doctor said, sitting back down against the wall, after another escape attempt had failed miserably. "Going up against a Hell Goddess isn't much fun, is it?"
"Welcome to my life," Buffy said.
Buffy didn't know how long she stayed down there. Days folded, one into another into another. She wondered how long she'd have to endure this before she just became numb to it all and learned to block it all out.
Then, one day, things changed.
"I just wanted you to know, Father," said the Goddess, standing in front of the Doctor's cell, "that just because you're locked up, here — that hasn't stopped Angelus and I from redirecting your TARDIS and systematically destroying your life, up above."
Behind her, a video was projected onto the opposite wall. It was large enough that Buffy could see it, too — in fact, probably the whole Initiative could.
It was a video of Angelus torturing someone to death. Horribly. Brutally. Disgustingly.
The Doctor's voice, when Buffy heard it, was quiet but icy, dark, and dangerous. "Rose."
Rose — while traveling with the Ninth Doctor.
By the end of the video, Buffy had put her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. Angelus had taken his time with this 'Rose'. He'd broken her before he killed her. He'd relished it.
It was a sight Buffy had never wanted to see.
The Goddess crossed her arms. "Nothing to say, Father?"
The Doctor said nothing.
The Goddess took out a camera and snapped a picture. She grinned at him.
"For the wall," the Goddess explained, turning around, camera still in hand. "Didn't think anything could rival Gallifrey — but I think calling you 'Father' after Rose's death, in Seo's voice with her cute little sweetness… just about topped it."
She laughed, as she left.
Buffy didn't know what to say or do. She'd seen the Goddess slaughter her dad, coldly and cruelly… she had been at a family reunion, when she was 10, and the Goddess had brutally murdered everyone there…
But Buffy didn't think any of that had been as twisted and sadistic as this.
"Are… you okay?" Buffy asked the Doctor.
In a cold voice, shaking with fury, barely above a whisper, he said: "I'm going to kill them."
Buffy closed her eyes. "Doctor…"
She could hear him suddenly doing something very animated, in his cell. He was at work. He had snapped. He was done playing these games.
"Doctor, listen to me," Buffy said, trying to stay calm. "You can't…"
"You can't say anything that'll change my mind," the Doctor interrupted. There were a number of strange clicking and whirring sounds from his cell. "That's not Angel, anymore. That's not Seo, anymore. They're both gone. What's taken their place are monsters — and I have had it. With both of them." With a sharp breath, he growled, "They're both dead."
"Doctor!" Buffy shouted, jumping to her feet.
The sounds of movement in the cell beside her paused.
"You said she needed you angry and desperate, to make her plan work," Buffy reminded him. "Don't you see what she's doing? She's making you like that. You're playing into her hands!"
There was a sound like something dropping to the ground.
"I've been thinking a lot about this," Buffy told him. "The biggest advantage we have is that you're divorced from this timeline. The more you get sucked into it, the more she wins." She bunched her hands into fists. "Rose is going to be fine. They're all going to be fine. But we have to win, first."
The Doctor said nothing for a long, long time.
Then, finally, "You're right."
She heard him pacing in his cell, again. It sounded less frenzied than before.
"I'm sorry," Buffy told him. She sat down, again, with her back against the left wall of her cell. "It's just… you're the last hope I've got."
The pacing stopped. When Buffy next heard him, his voice sounded like it was directly behind her — as if he really were sitting with his back against hers, as close together as he could possibly get.
"You're a better person than I am," he told her.
Buffy wasn't really sure that was true. She was just desperate enough to jump at any last hope she could get. "Better with you."
They stayed like that, in silence, for a long time. As together as they could be, with the wall in between them. They were all each other had, in this world. They had to be there for each other. They had to help each other.
There was nothing else.
The Goddess frowned, in the surveillance room. She strolled up to the array of monitors, and tapped her knuckle against the one with Buffy Summers and the Doctor.
"She's a problem," said the Goddess.
Angelus was still covered in Rose's blood. If it hadn't been for the Goddess, he'd never have escaped the Ninth Doctor's rage, despite the complete invulnerability — but he had, and here he was.
He reached for the Goddess, to put his arms around her.
She shoved him back, without looking. "Take a bath, Angelus. You're going to stain my dress."
"Your dress is black; black doesn't stain," Angelus argued, stumbling under the shove. He regained his balance and snuck up on her, then leapt out and grabbed her by the shoulders, spinning her around, his face inches from hers. "Besides — I know you like it."
She didn't protest, this time.
But she didn't fall into his arms and kiss him, either, the way she usually did.
"I've got problems to deal with," she told him, sternly. "My mother, for a start. If I don't do something, fast, she'll mess up all the calculations." Her eyes went unfocused, as she buried herself within her own thoughts. "I should have expected this. Even as a teenager, Mom wasn't an idiot. Give her time to think, and she'll work out everything."
Angelus glanced at the monitor, his eyes fixed on the image of Buffy Summers.
"She shouldn't really be down here," the Goddess said. "That wasn't supposed to be the plan. She should be up top, continuing to live her life with her friends and family — giving you and I the perfect opportunity to grind her into the dirt for a few years and get her really, really mad." She shook her head, pulling out of Angelus embrace and returning her eyes to that screen. "But then little Say-say started taking over, and the anomalous Doctor showed up — and now, all that's impossible."
"But Say-say's gone," said Angelus.
The Goddess didn't look happier. She kept watching her parents on the screen, her eyes fixed on the two of them — talking. Just talking. But being so… so… together.
"Do you love me, Angelus?" the Goddess asked, out of the blue.
Angelus gave a bow. "Love, fear, and awe, oh Goddess."
The Goddess frowned. "No, I mean… do you love me?"
Angelus paused. He looked at her, curiously. "If this is about last night…"
"I don't mean sex," said the Goddess. She kept her eyes fixed on the monitor, where the Doctor and Buffy still sat — back to back — talking, softly, to each other, each word filling the other with confidence and reassurance. "I mean… are we a team? A partnership? Do you have my back, through thick and thin? Do you gain comfort from my mere presence, as I gain comfort from yours? If I disappeared, tomorrow, would you miss me — or would you just find yourself a new obsession that you could tear apart and make 'yours'?"
Angelus looked at her even more curiously. He didn't say anything.
"You don't even know what I'm talking about," the Goddess realized. She returned her eyes to the monitor, watching the Doctor and Buffy as they sat, almost back to back, despite the separation of their cell wall. "You know that, when I become a full Goddess, I'm not going home. You can't… I mean, without you…" She paused. Then decided to try a new way of approaching the issue. "I can't assure you Godhood. After all, I'm going to be singular — the Goddess, the one and only. But I don't want to lose… I mean, you know… I still want us to be… close. I'm planning to bump you up a few dimensions. A demi-god kind of arrangement."
"Well, I figured you'd make me something high enough up that we could still have sex," Angelus said, shooting her a lustful grin. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her towards him. "After all — you can't get enough of me."
She flicked her eyes back to Angelus, just for a second. His groping, roaming, possessive but unloving hands contrasted sharply with that strong, deep partnership that was shared by the two people on the monitor.
She closed her eyes. Sucked in a sharp breath. Then tore herself from his grasp, and turned on Angelus, snapping her eyes back open.
"Separate them, Angelus," the Goddess said, pointing at the monitor. "I want them sad and lonely and miserable and… and…!" Her hand shook with rage. "Just… do something about my mother, Angelus. Now!"
Angelus grinned, his eyes glowing. "It'll be my absolute pleasure." His voice dropped to a growl, his face morphing into his vampiric look, as he left the monitoring room. "And I really do mean that."
The Goddess ran to the doorframe and shouted after him, "But don't…!"
She stopped. Hesitated.
He paused, looking back at her, over his shoulder. "I won't destroy her as beautifully as I destroyed you," he promised. He blew her a kiss. "You're the special one in my life. You know that."
The Goddess said nothing, as he left.
Professor Walsh, from her seat in front of the monitoring equipment, glanced over at the Goddess. In a very low, slightly shaky voice, she offered, "I might be able to do something about that."
"Angelus is taking care of it," the Goddess said, dismissively. She didn't even afford Walsh a glance, as she turned back to the monitoring equipment, to watch. "I granted funding for your research with the understanding that you wouldn't stand in my way, if I needed your Initiative. Remember that."
"I meant…" Walsh darted her eyes over at the door, where Angelus had just departed. "...him. Love. Your little… problem."
The Goddess spun around, suddenly, to face her. Then gave a laugh. "Hell Goddesses don't need…!"
"My research has revealed many insights about the vampiric brain," Walsh said. "Give me a little time and a lot of resources, and I can implant something into his mind that'll make him love you — the same way you love him. I promise."
The Goddess said nothing, for a few minutes.
"Professor Maggie Walsh," said the Goddess, at last, a small smile spreading across her face, "I'm liking your Initiative more and more by the day."