24

It was black. Not the kind of night-time black, where there was always light from something, whether it be the moon or the lamppost or the tiniest little phone light. The contrast between the dark and bright seemed so absolutely sudden, as if all the light was sucked out of the world in a heartbeat, leaving her feeling very, very small in an absolutely unknown abyss. She must have pulled his bandage too tight as she tied it, for she heard a sharp inhale from Spike. And if there wasn't an absolute absence of any sound, other than the two of them, she probably wouldn't have heard it. But she was, because she was still standing close, and before the light had gone out, she had been standing very close to his very bare and muscular torso. He was incredibly sculpted, and proud, from the way his personality had shifted, from someone on a mission to a cat playing with a mouse. That smirk twisting his features, attractive was a dull word for it. And her cheeks had blushed, why wouldn't they? She hadn't doubted that there was an attraction there, at least her for him, and while she could control her expression and inflections, her damn cheeks had a mind of their own. And he had teased her for it, her 'ogling', for lack of a better word. It was a man's body, an appealing one at that, and she hadn't seen one as bare as that, in such close quarters for a very long time. Or perhaps not at all, the last one had been barely more than a boy, young like she had been. Like she still was.

And very young she felt, standing in the dark, not able to see or hear Spike any more, and all those childish fears of what laid in the dark came creeping back towards her. It was ironic of a Slayer to be afraid of what went bump in the night, seeing as she was supposed to combat exactly that, but this was different. There was nothing, just a complete emptiness.

"Your eyes will adjust," She nearly jumped at Spike's voice, now behind her, his voice carrying, as every sound did. She could hear a shuffling, the light rustling of material, Spike picking up his clothes and redressing. Jade was reminded of her jacket, which she had taken off to turn her shirt into dressing. Goosebumps pricked along her skin, along her arms, making her feel cold enough to want it back. It wasn't warm, nor cold here, just empty. She knelt, trying to find something, anything in this inky blackness. She could start to see a blurry dark, but it was just different shades of black—and she thought black wasn't supposed to have a shade. Her fingers trailed through the loose dirt, and then a shuffling, the impact of air, she felt, rather than saw, that Spike crouched next to her. "Here." She felt the rough feel of the jean against her fingers, Spike pushing the jacket into her grasp.

"Thanks." Standing up, she found it silly to even face a direction, so she turned towards Spike, following the sounds he made—which wasn't very damn many, being a vampire that didn't breathe and knew how to stay still and silent.

"I'll be the eyes, for the meantime," He was trying to reassure her, none of the playfulness he had displayed a moment earlier. "No need to fret."

"I'm not," She denied, childish, trying to sound brave when she couldn't remember the last time she had felt so vulnerable.

"I can hear your heartbeat, remember? It's like a bloody jackhammer."

She almost snapped at him to just stop listening to it, but he would just laugh at her silliness again, wouldn't he. Call her a bint, or whatever word he had yelled at her when they were being pulled into the portal. She wasn't exactly sure what it meant, but she doubted that it was friendly. Instead, she took a breath, willing herself to calm down. She felt as they were boxed in, the darkness compressing down on them, in the same moment that she thought she was so small she'd get lost in this expanse around them. She felt so defenseless, her fingers grazing her hip to where her machete was normally holstered, but it was gone, pulled to the portal long before she had been. Jade hadn't thought to look for it in that mess she had fallen on, and it was too dark to attempt it now. She felt a ridiculous pang at that thought. She'd had it for a long time. It wasn't forged of any magic metal, or anything special, but it was reliable. And it had been his, once.

"What should we do?" She asked when she was sure her voice was as steady as her heartbeat.

"Walk for a bit. Got nothing to lose." Spike answered back reasonably.

"How will we find our way back to the… pile?" For lack of a better word. Maybe the tear would open again, returning everything it took back to Haven. It was a longshot, but at the very least, the mess of books was a landmark she didn't want to lose.

"Hang on a bit. Wait here." She did as he instructed, her heart beating a louder thump with each step of his feet that carried him away. The air fell heavily on her, the darkness even more. If she held her hand in front of her face she could almost make it out, a dark peach blur rather than just midnight. It seemed an eternity before she heard those steps carry closer to her again, and something larger and solid was pushed into her hand. "Here. Breadcrumbs, Gretel." She understood the reference, tearing out a page, crumpling it in her hand and throwing it at their feet. She couldn't see it, but it as long as he could, they'd have something to lead them back.

She stumbled for the third time in as many minutes. The ground wasn't flat at all, with inclines and divots. They'd been walking for a time, at a sure, steady trot. Jade followed Spike by sound, which had become of sharper focus since her sight was robbed from her, but it didn't help her walking on the ground.

"Jesus, Slayer. Didn't your Watcher ever teach you to fight with a blindfold?" Spike exclaimed, after she righted herself clumsily.

"I didn't take to it," She muttered to herself. And she hadn't. Sure, she could do it, at least she had managed, but that was arguably on flat ground. And she didn't like thinking of those days, remembering her training. She had done all she could to push it from her mind, and perhaps it showed. She heard Spike's answering sigh, stiffening as something touched her. It was his hand, reaching for her own. Her hands were chilled now, so even his felt warm, and she was surprised by the gesture until he directed her fingers around his elbow, latching her onto him.

"Keep you from stumbling like a three-legged pup."

She didn't rise to his jibe, secretly relieved. She was more assured now, holding onto him, an anchor in this darkness, something to feel, something that was real. As if she wasn't lost in the dark and something was playing tricks with her. "How far do you think we've gone?"

"Dunno," He answered her, stretching his neck back to look behind them. "Can't see that tear anymore, though. Relax," he added pre-emptively, and her nostrils flared in irritation that he could tell her discomfort by a single mis-beat of her heart. "I can see our breadcrumbs just fine."

That was comforting. At least it was supposed to be, but the truth was, so what if they could find their way back? If they weren't finding anything that could at least give them a hint of where to go, it didn't matter if they wandered around aimlessly or live on book-mountain. They had no food, no water. They couldn't last forever. Her stomach growled to further accentuate that part. Well, she was screwed, anyway. Spike could last longer than her, and he had a walking meal on legs to fill his needs should she perish. He'd be fine for a hell of a lot longer than she would be. "Do you have your lighter?" She asked suddenly, feeling the urge for a smoke, and remembering with some excitement, that a lighter provided light—which she was desperate for, but she could feel, rather than see, Spike shaking his head. "Fell out of my pocket long before we got pulled back in."

"We could find it, back at the pile."

She could feel him shrug. "Small bloody needle in the haystack, and you wouldn't be any help. Let's look around first, make sure we're not missing the exit."

If only it was that easy. They walked in silence for what could have been minutes as well as hours, absolutely nothing to do but to hold onto Spike and crumple paper at her feet.

There was nothing. No formations of rock that she could see—or feel. No exits, as Spike had put it. Just a never ending black. "Don't forget, keep exploring the map!" She muttered to herself, not meaning to say it aloud.

"What was that?" Spike asked, confused, though she knew he could hear her perfectly. He had vamp hearing for one, and as many times as he had mentioned her heart beat changing, she figured he could hear anything she said under her breath."

"Nothing. Just from a game I used to play." She said quickly, chagrined. Luckily, Spike had other things on his mind.

"There's something up there." He told her, and her stomach tensed, more instantly with anxiety rather than hope.

"What is it?"

"Don't know. Like a little light."

They walked towards it, quicker now that they had a purpose to their steps. A few minutes later Jade could see it too. A light. Very, very dim, but a light nonetheless. Her heart beat faster, but not with fear this time, excitement. She almost overtook Spike in her haste and curiosity, but he cautioned against it.

"Careful. This isn't Kansas. Think Anglerfish."

Her thoughts immediately reflected back to Finding Nemo. That was a happier movie for happier times, but she slowed her steps. He was right. Be cautious of the one light in an ocean of darkness, it might try to eat you.

"It's shaped like a…" She hung on every word Spike spoke, pleased to see that she could finally see the outline of his face, even enough to notice his eyes squint. "A bloke?"

"Another person, like us?" They sure weren't glowing. She doubted anything that looked like human in his realm actually was. Doc wouldn't have imprisoned them in a place that could help them. Unless it was just to slow them down so he could escape. Though he had surprised her with his strength and speed, she was sure that they could have overpowered Doc eventually, had the fight continued. She'd wonder if she'd ever find out, now.

The light was large, glimmering. Not overly bright, but in the darkness it was luminous. As they neared, she could see it was indeed shaped like a person, and as they came closer, that it was more a masculine form than a feminine one. A 'bloke', as Spike had said. No distinguishable features, just a blurry form.

"Hello?" Jade asked into the void. Spike shot a look at her that she couldn't quite discern. Jade had let go of him, able to see clearly now, enough to walk and not stumble. There was a response, but it sounded more like interference than anything else, a bad signal on the radio.

They stood before the glowing creature, only a few meters away. She watched Spike's hands tighten into knuckles, ready for a fight.

She just wanted answers. She wondered if she was just forcing the light to make a humanoid shape in her mind, so that it would come alive and talk to them. It was a silly thing to wish for.

But that's what happened.

There was a sudden change, instead of a bright yellow beam, colors began seeping into the form, giving it distinct shape. Features began appearing. A pronounced jaw, solid chin. More masculine features, but decidedly young. It was when the form grew hair, thick, straight black hair that shot up straight from his scalp that her heart beat rapidly. Spike threw another look at her, but this one she didn't even notice, so focused she was on the building of the character right before her eyes. Didn't think to be scared, to be worried. Didn't think. Just began to compare every similarity. Its height. His height. There was no possible way, none at all. His skin turned a tanned peach, dressed in simple jeans and sweaters. Oh god, it was so similar.

"Jade?" Spike spoke now, tugging at her elbow, ignoring the lightshow before them. "What the hell is the matter." Oh, her heart again, off the charts, properly. She didn't even comprehend that that was the first time Spike had used her name instead of one of a thousand nicknames. "Let's take a couple steps back, shall we?"

"No." She didn't even realised she had spoken, but it fell from her lips, as she stared, unblinking. His eyes were still closed, this figure before them. It wasn't, it couldn't be him. But it was an exact replica. She could even see his chest rise and fall, a feature that even Spike didn't have, though he could make the motions easily enough.

"Jade." Spike pulled at her with more urgency, but she froze, watching the figure's eyes open instead. The same eyes. The same dark chocolate orbs that stared back at her, every inch of his flesh so, so familiar to her despite over a year trying to forget. Spike stared back at the man he didn't know with suspicion, but Jade couldn't find the words to say. Could he even speak? He looked alive—was it even possible that he was? That this wasn't just a tease?

"Jade?" The man-of-light spoke, sounding as afraid and as lost as she was. Her heart nearly broke at the sound—again. He was young here, they had always been the same age, but she had gone on without him. He had always looked youthful, but she felt like she had changed in the last couple years a decade worth.

"Do you know him, Slayer?" Spike asked, irritation in his tone. The vampire didn't know what was going on. Jade didn't either.

"Bennett." She breathed, in answer. And it was, it was him. The one face she expected to see when she finally passed from the world, but instead she was seeing him here. A treat or a curse? She didn't know, until he spoke?

"Why have you led me here? Why am I in the darkness?" His despair bleeds through his voice, squeezing her heart to pieces. He had never skilled at hiding his emotions. He was the passionate one, the one that felt, while she just did.

"I-I didn't." Jade tried to defend herself, tried to find answers when she didn't have any. Liquid welled up in her eyes, and she blinked hard, unable to keep the crack from her voice.

"Don't bloody talk to it!" Spike said with alarm, but she ignored him, looking instead at Bennett. Oh, Bennett. It had been so long.

"I didn't lead you here. Not on purpose. We're trapped. Can you help us?"

His sorrow-filled eyes looked back at her. "You hurt me."

Her bottom lip trembled. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Why? Why did you do that? How could you do that?"

"Bennett—" She reached for him.

And got tackled to the ground. She fell heavily, bore down by Spike. She struggled against him, desperation as she pushed him off in time to see the light disappear. Bennett was gone. Again. Furious, frantic, she rounded on Spike.

"Why did you do that?" She shouted, angrily. Her voice was thunderously loud.

"Are you insane? What part about Anglerfish could you not get through your bloody head?" Spike answered, unapologetic and curt. "I probably just saved your life, but no, by all means, yell at Spike. Don't give him a bloody clue as to what the hell is going on. Who is he?"

She couldn't see Spike's face anymore, the sight gone from her when Bennett did, but she could imagine the annoyance on his face, and it dismayed her. She was shaking, thrown just by seeing Bennett. By hearing his voice. And the accusations. He had never blamed her for anything before. So it must not be him, the reasonable voice in her head wanted to convince her, but the truth was, he'd never really had reason to blame her for anything, except for this. The darkness, at least, if not specifically this dimension. Or something. She was confused, erratic, and Spike was still waiting impatiently for her to fill him in. "He's—he's…" Her breath was shaky, and she stared emptily into the dark. "Oh God," She whispered to herself.

"Get a hold of yourself." Spike's voice cut through her, and his hands were suddenly on each side of her, gripping her arms like iron manacles, giving her a hard shake. She didn't complain, though her body was still sore from the fall. He shook her roughly. "Get it bloody together. Whoever that was, probably wasn't real, you get that? Doc didn't send us here to have a holiday, he sent us here to mess with our minds." While brusque and candid, his words unexpectedly soothed Jade. It was just someone messing with her mind. The fact that it could be something that just preyed on the fear in her mind made it somehow easier to deal with. Better than it being real.

"Bennett. He was my… boyfriend." She hated the word. It was inadequate. They had been so young, too, that it should be discounted as a first love and nothing more. "He died. Over a year ago." She hadn't counted the exact days. Bennett would have, if she had been the one to die. But the discrepancy in his actual death made it hard to have an appropriate memorial date. She was still laying on the ground, and she rose slowly to a sitting position. She could see a blurry shape, Spike crouching near her, waiting. "He was my best friend. Since we were children. When I began training as a potential Slayer, he trained too. We did it all together. When I was activated as a Slayer, he was the first to know. He just trained harder after that." Jade managed a wan smile. Oh god, she had tried so hard forget all of it, as if it would absolve her guilt if she pretended it never happened.

"How did he die?" Spike's curious question surprised her. There was no impatience in his tone, no anger, not any more. He asked as placidly as about the weather. At least she was no longer on the verge of tears. She felt embarrassed too, and despised it. She had lost her composure, in front of Spike of all people. He who had no problem speaking his mind, tactless and with candor. She didn't think she could handle too much rough speech. She felt vulnerable, more than she had in a long time. This place was preying on her. The thought crept up on her, a paranoid fear. She realised long seconds had gone by, that she was stalling. But Spike had no patience for cowards, she should know that. Out with it. Get it bloody together, as he had said.

"I killed him." She admitted, a shaky breath exhaled. Spike took a breath as well, a inhale even she could hear. More of a response than a necessary motion; he didn't breathe. His version of a light gasp, she supposed, a far, far muted one. Her eyes stared blankly ahead. She could have just left it there; she could never really justify what she had done. Why she did it didn't matter, not to her. "He was turned." Her fault, her fault. "He rose as a vampire." And she had killed him. If only it was that simple, that easy. There was a silence, then.

"I killed my mum, you know." Spike spoke, in that same, oddly sympathetic tone, which was calm and relaxed as if they had all the time in the world. Maybe they did, maybe there was nothing left now for them but each other and a glowing hologram of her ex-boyfriend. And secrets, apparently. "She was sick, she was. After I was turned, thought I'd turn her too, make it right. Didn't. Made her a monster. Had to kill her again, right away."

She hadn't known that. To be honest, there was plenty she didn't know about Spike, like she had been entered into a chapter after his whole trilogy had been written. She was peeling back page by page, but she knew he had been turned in the late 1800s, over a hundred years of history to sift through. The fact that he had changed his mother with still relatively noble intentions—although admittedly selfish was an oddity in its own. He had almost seemed surprised to admit that his mother wouldn't be the same, that he was hurt by it. Jade was no better. She knew, knew, damnit. She had been told all her life. Vampires couldn't be redeemed. Once humans were turned, they were gone, forever. Just because the demon had their memories, their feeling didn't negate the fact that that's what they were. Demons. And demons were evil. That's what she had been taught. But still, she had tried to deny it, tried to pretend that somehow Bennett was stronger than all the rest. How stupid she had been.

"I didn't." She said after a long breath. Her hand had reached out towards Spike to show her compassion, her sympathy, but she had stopped it before it reached him. She didn't know him well enough to know how he'd react, if he'd shove off her touch or appreciate it. She didn't have the courage to find out. "I didn't kill him right away." She clarified. "I let him go. I let him kill five people before I could admit that he was too far gone."

Five people. She hadn't been counting, hadn't consciously let him have that many choices. The next time she had found him the body count had racked up. She hadn't a choice after that. Those five, they were her fault too. Because she couldn't do her job, couldn't be the Slayer. She never could. Skip to running away, leaving it all behind. Tattooing a V on her chest so she'd punish herself, so she'd never forget. As if she could.

"Mistakes get made when there's people you care about," Spike spoke. Trying to reassure her or himself, she wasn't quite sure. The empathy cleared from his voice, and then he was business again, the matter-of-fact Spike who had a job to do. "Now, enough of this sobfest. That wasn't your boy. Just something to mess us over. Can't trust anything you see here."

"Except you."

"Except me. Let's go before they dazzle us with another light show."

Jade nodded, she moved to rise to her feet, before she felt fingers brush her own; Spike, offering her his hand. Grateful, she took it. He was right. She couldn't trust anything she saw here. She didn't know what that form was, but it wasn't Bennett. He wasn't stuck here. And even if he was, he'd never blame her. She was shaken from seeing him again, from being face to face. She'd pushed the truth away after he died so she didn't have to face it. It had been easier, but it didn't exactly grant her closure. She hadn't even buried his body. Didn't have to. All there was left was dust.

"Where to now?" She asked. Her hand was still gripping Spike's, as he hadn't made a move to draw his hand away yet. It felt more friendly than intimate, like wanting a child to follow him. But with her eyesight no more improved, she was grateful to have his guidance through the dark, the reassurance of his touch.

"We'll keep going. Still nothing to turn back to. See if we find any more Anglers."

And they did. After they had seemed to walk another age, which was indiscernible still, as hours or minutes, another light began to glow. Jade's heart constricted painfully in her chest. Can't trust anything they see. If it was Bennett's image again, she'd ignore it.

But it wasn't. It began to grow, forming a shape, and then filling out the features, as before. Dressed in older clothing, a long loose gown, an older woman began to appear before their very eyes.

"Oh, Bugger off!" Spike exclaimed.

"Oh, William," The woman replied, her caring eyes filled with tears.