Chapter Eight-Scars of the Past
June 2006
Stupid demon slime, Buffy thought to herself. I'm not sure this will come out in the wash. What was that anyway? Ear spikes? Don't think I've ever seen that before. Not often I see a new type of demon after all these years.
Oh great, now Vampires. Nothing like vamp dust stuck to demon slime to make a nasty mess.
"Hey newbies, ready to make a quick transition from undead back to dead dead?" she called out to the approaching foursome.
They seemed to be moving toward her quickly and were surprised when she blocked their path. The front three faltered for a moment until the tall male behind them spurred them forward.
They attacked together but clumsily. One was staked within moments, the second sent away with a well-timed kick to the chest. The third circled more warily for an opening and Buffy found her feet swept away as she was distracted by the sudden attack of the tall vamp.
A back flip later, she was staking the third vampire, but had forgotten the second she had kicked away until it grabbed her from behind.
Instantly, the tall vamp was in front of her. "Slayer. What a bonus. We only thought to bait the witch tonight."
"Save it." Buffy answered, spinning free from the second vampire's grasp and staking him from behind. "I'm not very good bait anyway." She continued as she dropped low with a sweep to the tall vamps legs.
He laughed deep in his chest as he easily rose above the blow and the Slayer slid onto her back. The large vampire then came down with full force, both feet landing on the center of her chest.
Pain and no breath, Buffy thought as the vamp stepped to her side, not good. As she tried to sit up, the vamp backhanded her across the face, flinging her back to the ground.
This time he leapt at her, fangs bared and grabbed her hair, exposing the side of her neck. The Slayer was still trying to take a breath through her crushed chest and thought it would be nice to pass out from lack of oxygen before she felt the bite.
Then a gust of wind held her down yet again, but the bite never came. Her autonomic response kicked in, forcing her airway to inhale, despite the pain that radiated through her lungs. When she had enough oxygen restored to open her eyes, she found herself gazing into the face of her ex-best friend, who was looking down on her with concern.
When her brain could process words, she realized Willow was asking her where she was injured. "Vamp jumped on my chest like a trampoline. What happened?" Buffy asked.
The witch grinned and relaxed slightly, "Then you won't mind if I sort of bounced him into a pointy tree branch."
Buffy tried to smile and sit up, but found her head spinning until the redhead helped her lean against a gravestone.
"Sit, you need to rest for a minute. I think we are clear on the vampire front for now." Willow insisted. "Your face is a mess, big bruise on your right cheek and your right eye is swollen. Let me look at the chest wound."
"Like I'm going to let you see my breasts Rosenberg. Keep dreaming." Buffy teased while grimacing.
"Fine." Willow smirked in response. "But I am going to cop a feel," she joked and then became serious as she palpated the center of Buffy's chest. "I think your sternum is fractured. And probably some ribs too. We need to get you to the hospital. Do you think you can stand?"
Just as Buffy was going to reply, a demon similar to the one she had dealt with earlier in the night rushed Willow, striking the witch hard in the side. She landed on her back and as she started to roll to the side, the demon's ear spikes caught her cloak and shirt, ripping both down the front and off.
Willow was already starting an incantation as she slipped to the side, now clad only a bra from the waist up. Getting to her knees, she held out her right hand and as the demon lunged, a ball of blue light came from her palm and struck it squarely in, and then passing through the demon's chest, leaving a gaping hole.
The demon looked down, mouth flopping open, and then back up at Willow, before falling dead on the grass before her.
After a few stunned moments, Willow looked over at Buffy who was struggling to her feet. "Well I guess you get to see my breasts tonight Slayer."
Buffy tried to laugh, "Well turnabout is fair play, right?"
As Buffy approached Willow who was pushing herself up off the grass, she suddenly stopped and gasped. "Willow, what happened to your arms?"
Willow looked down and quickly rushed to wrap herself in the remnant of cloak she found lying on the ground. "Old news, Buffy, " She tried to brush off the conversation and change the subject. "Hospital?"
Buffy stood, still stunned by the series of deep scars she had seen running in lines up and down Willow's arms. "No. I am breathing a little better. I think I'll just head home."
She stepped toward the witch unsurely. "What happened Willow. Those looked bad."
Willow just continued to stand, clutching her shredded cloak around her, staring at the ground. "It doesn't matter now, really Buffy. It happened a long time ago. I'll help you home if that's ok?" She answered in a near whisper.
Buffy wasn't sure it was the time to push the issue, besides, the attacks of the night had her a little shaken. "Let's get out of here. I think I've had enough of this night and some research might be in order." She decided as they started a slow walk toward Revello drive.
Both were lost in thought along the way until Buffy remembered what the tall vampire has said.
"Willow, that last vamp, he said they were there to bait the witch. Was that you? Were they headed away from you when they ran into me?
Willow looked at her a little surprised. "I was following them through the graveyard looking for a good time to attack. I didn't even know you were there until I found the tall one had knocked you down. Bait? I'm not sure what that means."
They were close to the house when the realization hit Buffy that Willow had saved her. She turned to her former best friend. "Will, you saved my life tonight. Thank you. But there is clearly a ton going on that you haven't told me about, and I don't like that."
She looked Willow straight in the eye and took one of the witch's scarred arms in her hand. "I haven't given Tara the letter yet. But I will. Please don't make me regret that."
Willow looked like she would cry. "I won't Buffy. Thank you. Oh, and don't worry about patrol, I'll take care of it for a few days. You rest."
They were now across the street from the house. "You can't come any closer Will." Buffy stated as she stopped, with a hint of sadness.
"I know." Willow replied sadly looking up at the house, warm with lights from the living room. "Take care of yourself. I'll see you in a few days." She called out as she started back down the street.
Tara was at the door when Buffy entered. "Buffy? I thought I heard you talking to um, someone. Oh my god, are you alright?" She exclaimed as she saw Buffy's pained expression.
"Not really, but I'll live." Buffy wheezed as she lowered herself onto the couch.
"Let me get some ice. Aspirin? Anything else?" Tara asked.
"No, I just need to rest. Can I tell you about it in the morning? I don't think I can stay awake." By the time Tara came back with the icepack and Aspirin, Buffy was sound asleep. Tara covered her with a blanket and headed to bed.
Willow hurried back up the street, cut down the alley and entered the backdoor of her home at the end of Revello Drive. She didn't bother with lights, just headed to the bathroom and lit a candle as the bathtub filled with water. Panic attack, haven't had one of these for a while, she thought.
She waited shivering, running her hands up and down her arms. Even in the dim glow of the candle, she could not avoid seeing the long deep scars that covered every aspect of her forearms.
When the tub was ready, she slid into the steaming water and added a few herbs for calming. Even with these preparations, when her eyelids drifted closed, she found herself back at Rozan, the school of the Light on Khul, and her prison.
He fed me well that first week. Each day I would be brought from my cell to a large banquet hall before noon and allowed to select anything to eat and drink that I desired from the wide array. He gave me first pick, before anyone else was seated for the midday meal. I was taken to his workroom to eat, under guard.
I never saw any other residents of Rozan, not students, not other prisoners, no more than a few handpicked guards, and him. I saw him every day of my long confinement. I was probably as close to death as I have ever been when I arrived at Rozan. The convoy that brought me from the Dark prison had been long and painful. The magick binders had kept me in pain, unable to keep down much food, and somehow amplifying my withdrawal symptoms.
He came to my cell immediately upon my arrival and stood at the bars, studying me for several hours with a somewhat contemplative expression. When he left, the binders securing my arms and my magick were finally removed. The deep gashes they created in my flesh were treated with a salve and wrapped by a guard. I slept for 24 hours. Then began my week of relative feasting.
At the end of the week I was brought again to his workroom, but this time late at night. A large space had been cleared and a circle set on the floor. He was already seated in the circle and invited me in with a wave of his hand.
I sat across from him and he started an incantation. A few moments later, he touched my hand and as he asked me my name, I realized I could understand the spoken word for the first time.
"Willow." I responded. "How can I understand you now?"
"A language spell." He replied. He asked me where I was from and how I came to be there.
I explained returning Rack and being dragged through the portal. I asked if he could send me home.
"No." was his only response.
"What is your name?" I inquired.
"You are at a school. You may call me Teacher." He responded. "Our first lesson is about magick, dark magick to be specific. You are aware that we do not allow dark magick?"
I nodded in response and stared at a spot on the floor between us. "Dark magick has done nothing but hurt the people I love. I have no further interest in it."
Suddenly he reached out and grasped both of my arms in a tight grip as he laughed, "Well I do."
I found myself unable to look away from his gaze as he began chanting and held me in place with ease. I felt him inside my mind, searching through my thoughts and experiences, back in time, to the first spell I ever cast.
It was the most basic of spells, floating a feather in my room. I experienced the event as if I was again in that moment. And Teacher was with me every moment, sensing my energy, my motivation, the words I had chosen, the source of my power. Over and over he replayed the event, reviewing from different angles, until he was satisfied that he had extracted every ounce of knowledge about the experience. It was a terrible violation of my mind, my memories.
As he severed the connection I thought to myself thank the goddess the spell was only floating a feather. "So you started in light." He spoke almost to himself. "This might be even more interesting than I anticipated. We will move on to the next spell tomorrow night." He added as he stood up and left the circle.
The horror of what he had said finally reached my brain and I jumped to my feet, "What do you mean move on to the next spell?"
He looked at me surprised and said "The next spell you did. We will be reviewing each one you performed up to the time you arrived here. It should prove educational. And when we get to the spells utilizing dark magick, we will remove the darkness."
"You can't do that!" I exclaimed. "You can't violate my mind like that." I rushed toward him and found myself flung to the ground by two large guards.
"I was hoping to avoid unpleasantness," he said looking down at me, "but you give me no choice." As one guard held me, the other appeared with the binders in his hand. I struggled to no avail, until the pain of the physical and magickal device brought me the blissful reprieve of the unconscious.
Khul-one year later.
Everyone needs a routine. School-work, weekdays-weekends, breakfast-lunch-dinner, shower-brush teeth, we all need our routines, I thought to myself.
Or did I actually say that out loud to myself? How long have I been here?
I have gone over the edge, loopyville, crazytown. I know I laughed out loud, sounding like a crazy woman.
My routine is pain. Each night we 'review' the next spell. How many spells have I done since I became a witch, hundreds, thousands? I will spend my life here, in agony.
After the spell come the binders. I can't be allowed to do any magick. They keep me from escaping. They keep me weak, unable to resist his nightly conquest of my memories.
After the binders are set on me the darkness comes and for a few grateful hours I think of nothing. Then I awaken to a meal and wait hours to begin the routine again.
During my awake hours I have time to think. I think of the irony. I am the victim of a nightly casting that dissects and erases some of my memories. I know about erasing memories. Every night he casts, forcing me to relive the most stressful, distressing events of my life over and over again. And if I used dark power for any portion of the spell, it is 'extracted' from my memory in a process that I imagine is what a lobotomy feels like, without that thing up your nose.
I spend time in my prison cell built for one thinking. I think of Buffy. I hope she is well and still Slaying. I think of Dawn, and Xander, and god forbid even Anya, and hope they are doing well.
I think of how I hurt and betrayed them. Someday I will get to experience all of those events again. One betrayal a night. I don't think there will be much left of my mind when we get to the years where I used dark magick almost exclusively. The 'extraction' will take care of what is left of my gray matter.
I can only pray nothing remains of my mind before we get to my memories of Tara. I'm not sure what will be worse, reliving my hurtful dark magick actions or reliving those beautiful early days. When our spells used roses and crystals and reflected our love. I won't lose those memories, but the thought of him, Teacher, experiencing them over and over, savoring them from every angle and taking from each, seems the worst violation of all.
Tara, did I stop Rack? Are you Ok? Are you happy?
I have to believe you are. My routine needs a dream of you, beautiful, with your golden hair pulled up, your creamy neck exposed, smiling in the sunshine. I need a dream of a time when you loved me. Oh how you loved me, I see now.
I remember when the Watcher's Council came to Sunnydale and Buffy confronted them at the Magic Box. You sat next to me on the balcony, pushing your thigh into mine. You would lean back and your fingers would sneak under me, just tickling my butt cheeks.
When Buffy had put the Watchers in their place and I couldn't take it anymore we sneaked into the stockroom and locked the door. You spun me around and onto a crate in the corner with laughter in your eyes. In moments that changed. Your eyes darkened and I saw a lust there that took my breath away and made my center clench all at the same time.
You kissed me hard while quickly working your hands under my skirt and into my panties as if you couldn't wait another second to be touching me.
I had time for one breath before I felt your long fingers sliding between my lips, searching for the wetness that had been there since we were on the balcony. "Yes," you breathed out as I gasped in when I found myself filled with your fingers.
You took me hard and fast, with a dozen people nearby, and yet in that moment you and I were the only two people in the world. Lovers, soulmates, giving and taking, and when I went over the edge into ecstasy you swallowed my scream and my love for you in a kiss.
Yes, I need to dream of you every day to keep me alive in this place of horrors. Because everyone needs a routine.