Then the scream ended as abruptly as it had started. There was no sound whatsoever, and everyone in the room exchanged nervous glances. Willow looked downright scared.
"Oh god, it's Xander," she whispered. "What's he going through . . .?"
Another scream came, one much more louder and sounded vaguely like he was yelling "Help!". It ended in gurgling sounds and then there was only the sound of metal scraping against metal. Willow looked nervously at Buffy.
"Maybe we should-" she started.
"No." Giles had sat down hard next to her, and was staring at the room a though he were in a daze: as they all were. "We can't go in there. It doesn't sound safe.
Something hit the wall-they didn't know what-hit the door and it bent under the weight. They all held their breaths, but the door stood firm. The object kept bouncing around the room though, thumping against the emptiness.
What * is * going on there?, Buffy asked herself, The voice provided no comment.
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A twisted growl escaped from somewhere deep inside Xander as he was once again tossed at one of the walls like a rag doll. His body convulsed terribly as he hit the floor hard, and the metal that still hung on to his handcuffed hands reared up and slapped him in the face. He roared in pain as another jolt of seeming-electricity shot through his body. It was really the demon trying to claim its new territory, and it was extremely pissed off that it was taking more time than usual.
The world spun once more, and Xander's handcuffs finally burst as his hands were brought to his aching head. Visions from another place entered his shaking mind-of a place dark and red with fire, Hell. Of places cold and dark and without color and feeling, limbo. Horrible things that this demon had done flashed through his mine, and he moaned loudly for all that he saw. And within seconds, he was airborne again, as the demon tried to burrow his way into Xander's body and kick his soul out for good.
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As the sounds of struggle subsided to a low growl and the occasional howl, Buffy eyed her Watcher. He, in turn, looked at his watch, and noticed that it was about time sunset would be over. He looked at the watch and nodded. It was twilight indeed.
The growl was fading, and then there was only the sound of clacking metal. Willow's nails were digging into her skin, and Buffy had long ago broken the arms of the chair that she was sitting in. Now Giles nodded at her and gave her to go ahead. With a nervous glance at Willow, Buffy rose and walked to the office.
The door opened easily, and Buffy gasped as she entered. The desk was overturned and sitting clear across the room, in a corner. The chains were in molten metal chunks scattered all over the room, and there were dents and scuffs in the wall and in the door. Xander was no where in sight.
Yeah right. Buffy had been sneaked up by seemingly invisible vampires before. She turned around in a circle, and then decided that Xander must be behind the desk. Why he was hiding, she had no idea.
Slowly, she climbed up on the desk and looked over. Xander was there, turned away from her and curled up, shivering, in the fetal position. His clothes were slightly ripped and torn, and he was stuck up against the walls, remnants of the handcuffs still around his wrists.
"Xander?" Buffy asked.
Upon hearing the sound of her voice, Xander froze. Slowly he began to uncurl himself, and still facing away, he stood up. Once all straightened up, he said in a flat and emotionless voice, "Please leave."
Buffy paused. Should she go? What should she say? This was very awkward. So she didn't do anything at all. She just stood there, spinning the stake in her hand, and wondering if Xander was suddenly going to turn around and eat her for dinner-or breakfast.
"Did you here what I said?" Xander's voice was very soft, almost so that she couldn't hear it. He turned his head to the side, so that she could she his outline, but then he turned back to facing the wall. "Please leave. I'll . . . be out there soon."
Buffy turned around on her heel without saying at word. What * would * she say? Anything and everything would come out stupid. Buffy realized that conversation would be very hard to deal with Xander from now, unless they were arguing. That would always be easy.
Willow and Giles were anxiously searching her face as she exited, and with reading her look as "confused," they were equally so. "So I assume that Xander has not been taken over by the demon?" Giles asked, straight to the point.
"No, he . . . wants to be alone," Buffy said, walking up to them. They all huddled around each other in front of the mirror. "He said he'd be out there soon. I . . . don't want to rush him."
"You shouldn't," Giles agreed. "None of this should be taken lightly in the least.
"What he must be going through . . ." Willow trailed off.
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Since all three of them were standing in front of the mirror, it was a joke that Xander had to sneak out of the library. Instead, he just casually walked by, his footfalls making not a sound, his reflection not appearing. They were utterly oblivious to his escape. They didn't even hear the swinging doors shut behind him as he left the library with only one thought on his mind.
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"It's been awhile, hasn't it?" Willow asked. Oz had appeared a few minutes earlier, and now the four of them were sitting in the library, waiting for Xander to come out. He still hadn't, and now they were getting worried-and Buffy suspicious. Willow gave Buffy a nervous glance, and Buffy turned towards Giles as to ask, * What do I do * ? Oz just looked back and forth between all of them.
"Maybe you should check on him," Oz offered. "See if he needs help or anything with, uh, something. I don't know. Whatever's keeping him locked up in there." Giles agreed. "We should check up on him. We don't know exactly if Xander is well or not. Remember what happened with Jacob and Seth-"
"Well, than why didn't he attack Buffy?" Willow asked, in defense of her friends Even if Xander was a demon, she would never come to terms with it. It wasn't Xander. And it was * not * his fault.
"I'm going to check on him," Buffy said, putting her hands down on the table and rising out of the chair. "Wish me luck." She walked over to the office and entered.
Immediately she reappeared, her face pale. "What is it?" Willow demanded, her stomach suddenly cold and empty with fear.
"He's not there," Buffy informed them. "He . . . left."
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The factory had burned down, so for now Angelus, Drusilla, and Spike were homeless. In a sense. They were currently residing in an old and disgusting abandoned warehouse next door to the smoldering remains, until they found someplace new that they liked. And considering Dru's picky taste, they might be here for awhile, because neither Spike nor Angelus wanted to upset their unstable psychic vampire.
"Angel . . ." Drusilla walked up behind him from where he sat in the chair. With her two index fingers, she traced an invisible pattern on his shoulders. "The stars are whispering sweet secrets again," she told him in his ear. Then she giggled and snapped her teeth, pulling far back so that Angel couldn't turn around and catch her in a kiss. She laughed and danced far away from Angel to the other side of the room, with Spike.
Spike, who had been watching the little scene from his wheelchair, glared at Dru as she sat comfortably in his lap. "The stars speak of such things the moon would never tell," she announced to both her lovers. "The moon knows nothing. It's all in the stars. Thoughts . . ."
She trailed off, staring dreamily at absolutely nothing on this plane. Her long black hair fell down her knobby, bare shoulders, and her large black eyes were glassy and glazed. "Do you want to know what the stars had to say about everything?" she whispered to the ceiling.
"Do tell, Dru," Angel said, turning around in her chair. Drusilla looked back at him and then let out a throaty laugh.
"To do, with you, angel, but not you only," Dru laughed. She leaned close to Spike as though to kiss him, but instead she whispered in a low voice. "The oak'll win in the end. As it should be."
"Speak up, Dru dear," Angel said. "I didn't quite catch it."
"The oak." Drusilla repeated again. She leaped off of Spike's lap and walked around the room, idly wringing her hands. "It wins, we lose, but we can always tell from the lie. Can we?" She directed this question more to herself than anyone else. "Sometimes we can't. But we are very clever, vampires we are. Agree? Yes, I do too. Rather . . ." She let her sentence hang there, and then fell to the floor, managing to land gracefully somehow. She looked down and smoothed her red-and-black dress. "Where is Miss Lizbette? She must retire for the night. It is awfully cold for my dolly . . ."
Angel sighed and went back to his evil-little brooding thing he had going on. Concocting a plan to screw with Buffy's mind even more, he was bothered by Drusilla's outbursts, especially when they meant absolutely nothing. And this time, her visions seemed like gibberish. Hence, he ignored her.
Spike sighed and rolled his wheelchair further into the shadows. Drusilla, no matter how recovered she seemed, still had her little, subtle bouts of lunacy. When she got this way, it was best to ignore her or and it was definitely not good to humor her. It only encouraged her.
"Someone is coming to visit," Drusilla announced again. "We are to have company. Look your best and impress your father, Dru!"
Oh great, Spike thought. As much as he loved her, when she went into her first-personage, it got fast real quick. Let's just hope that she doesn't start reenacting her twelfth birthday. It's a killer. Makes me wish I was dead-again.
Suddenly there was the sound of thumping footsteps behind him, and Spike twisted his neck around. Not too far, in the shadows, was the still form of that human creep, Xander.
"What the hell is he doing here?" Spike asked, getting both Angel and Dru's attention. They looked at the boy, Angel with a slightly confused face, and Drusilla with a happy smile. Spike was upset.
"I ask again, * what * in the bloody hell is he doing here?"
Angel was about to explain when Xander emerged out of the shadows, at the same time morphing his face into it's evil visage. He grinned widely, exposing his fangs. "Figure it out for yourself, Spike," he told the vampire, practically leering.
Spike was shocked, Angel was figuring out what was to become of this, and Dru was rising from where she was on the floor, hands clasped tightly in joy. "Oh goodie," she said, walked towards him as though she were floating on air.
"A new playmate."