The Consequences to Reanimation 1/?
by Vickey Brickle-Macky aka Phoenixstitch
8/26/2001

Summary: This is something that stuck in my head after reading possible spoilers for 6th season from the episodes being shot now –particularly some of the overheard possible dialogue from Spike on hearing that Buffy was alive, and no one had told him, along with speculations as to why no one had. This first part deals with Buffy coming back to life.

Feedback on this would be appreciated as this is a different direction for me. vbmacky1@yahoo.com. My other Buffy stories, artwork, etc. can be found at In The Heart Of Darkness--http://fangslover.fanspace.com

Rating—At least R/ NC-17 as this is going to be very dark, graphic, and chilling if I do this right. No sex, yet , but lots of strong language. This will be a B/S fic eventually.

Disclaimers: The usuals to Joss, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century-Fox, and I guess UPN now. Just borrowing—honest.


Unholy, sickly, green energy crackled around the two chanting figures within a circle painted with arcane runes atop an isolated grave. Around them the night was as dark as their purpose. It was a stygian night seemingly devoid of stars, a bleak darkness without even the slightest sliver of the yet to be new moon to mar the night's inky depths. It was a perfect setting for the powerful magicks that were to be worked upon this holy Sabbath's eve to wrench open the gates between known worlds, and uncounted dimensions. As the chanting in a language not heard in untold thousands of years increased in intensity the veils between time, and space thinned, becoming blurred as the suddenly appearing dark clouds gathered, and thickened, boiled, then churned sickeningly across the once empty sky. From nowhere, and everywhere a chill, unearthly icy wind rose, and howled like a live thing in seeming protest to the unnatural acts were being worked that night becoming a fitting counterpoint to their words, their strange magicks being woven.

This was a spell made up of many spells, woven together, hopefully tightly integrated into a coherent whole because of the complex nature of what was needed to be done. Parts had come from Doc's books, some from Giles' secret library, others from mysterious dark sources that even Willow would not divulge where, or even how she had obtained them. The 'spell' had been created in secret over the months—for Willow had never stopped looking for a way to bring Buffy back. Even Tara did not know how badly her lover was obsessed with finding a means to bring her friend back. Only Dawn suspected that Willow had not given up the quest, and she secretly egged her on hoping that the red haired witch would succeed where she herself had failed when she had tried to bring back her mother.

he others still grieved for the loss of Buffy, but as time went on, so did they with their daily lives believing whole heartedly that there would be no miracle resurrection. Buffy was really dead, and nothing was going to change that. Even Spike who had been so devastated by Buffy's death had finally accepted that she was gone for real. Now his only purpose was to protect Dawn, and the Scoobies, and to take Buffy's place as the Slayer with the help of the 'Buffybot' since no new slayer had been called, or had Faith been released to fight the demons that continued to flock to the Hellmouth. The Scoobies had not contacted the Council of Watchers, and the Watchers had not contacted them, so either they didn't know Buffy was truly dead, or were making their own secret plans to solve 'their slayer' problems since the only other active slayer was incarcerated, generally not that pliable, or did she, as Buffy had done, willingly answer to them.

The two young women lost in the weavings of the powerful spell had told themselves they were doing this out of love, and grief. Their grief being so overwhelming they could not let what should rest, rest. They could not let go…accept what had happened…because in their minds it shouldn't have happened to begin with. Then there were the signs, the ancient prophecies newly discovered in books that had been recently purchased that said too that this was what needed to be done. What could be done to repair the mistake that had been made. What had been lost must be reborn... brought back to face an ever greater evil than had been seen, or fought before.

A part of them knew that this was not right…that what they would make come back this night might not be right...that there would be –damage—maybe much damage after all these months to the physical body, and no doubt to the mind, and possibly the soul of the being they were resurrecting. And there would be a soul—that they were very determined to make sure it had. They knew with certainty that there would be a price to be paid on all sides for the deeds done this night—still the risk to them, and to whom they sought to have back among them was acceptable. The others would be mad, but they'd get over it as would the object of their spell—they hoped….

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Excruciating pain shot through every nerve, jotting her back to awareness from the safe, and peaceful black void she had existed in. She wanted to go back—not to feel—again? She had felt, been able to feel –before? There had been a before? Some twinge of memory, an awareness of a not too long ago previous existence, pulled at her as she began to feel, began to be aware of everything—again.

And it was an 'again', not a new beginning, but a pull back to what had been, her immediate past life, not new life unlived.

Somehow she knew this was—wrong—very wrong. This should not be happening for any reason. Something was not right—this could not be—but it was, and she couldn't stop what was happening to her as her dead body woke up. What blood that remained within her started flowing again, somehow was multiplying. There was an explosion of new healthy white, and red blood cells… replacing the long dead cells within her clogged, and dried up arteries, and veins.

It all hurt too much…pain…too much pain…feels like body…all of her… on fire…not fire…cold…pain…so much pain…. She was in agony---make it stop---please make it STOP! Her mind screamed, and screamed with the horrendous pain that was assaulting her every sense, her every nerve, awakening them—NO, NO, this was wrong---VERY WRONG!!! Stop it ----pleaseee!!!

Somehow long disused organs began functioning…lungs, heart, kidneys, her brain as the new blood nourished, replenished…she felt more incredible, beyond agonizing pain as her body began to repair itself. Bones knitted, strengthen, her severe injuries were being fixed… closed, like they had never been.

But her mind kept screaming stop! This is not right! Stop it! Stop it! The litany repeated over, and over in her aware, and conscious mind because she could not yet speak. She began to move, fight again the tide of sensations overwhelming her from all sides, the creeping sickening horror she was feeling with herself about herself as she became more, and more aware that she was—ALIVE!!! God—she was ALIVE---AGAIN!!!

DEAD!! That was what she was—had been, should be—had to be! NO! Can't, shouldn't, she couldn't be ALIVE! IT WAS WRONG! VERY WRONG! Noooooo! Please---NO! Her mind screamed in its growing awareness of what was happening—going on, and TO her.

I'm DEAD…I have to be dead…how long? A day…days, weeks, months---God, don't let it be years…her mind screamed. And screamed, over, and over until it calmed somehow…for a moment….

But I died …I …I ..do I remember that…God…I do…NO! I remember. I shouldn't remember—why am I remembering?

I remember a pulsating, twisting bright light…blue…white...colors in the air…I am running? I ran? Am I running to? Running away? But I…I HAVE TO?. Running to it…away from something…something I had to do…important that I go to it. Stop something? Reason why I had to go? Yes, stop it from getting bigger…before it destroyed…what? World…her world…all worlds…all dimensions—is that right? Her mind tried to gasp that thought, feeling, concept, and decided that it was right after all. She had saved the world….Again? Her going into the light had saved the world…stopped whatever horrible, terrifying thing had been happening.

HOW?

WHY?

HUH?

Images flashed before her mind's eyes: She ran …she remembered running, her heart both heavy, but sure if what she was doing because it had to be her that did it—not the vague other? There had been someone else that should have done this but—she had gone instead? Insisted on it to—what? Save a world—worlds? Was that right? That still wasn't clear—it still wasn't making sense.

But she did remember that she had jumped out into empty air into a seemingly beyond bright light. Like falling into the sun except there was no heat, no cold, no awareness of hot, cold, or anything. Numbly she had felt herself fall through the thick, charged air while she was assaulted from all sides by massive jots of energy until she had passed out from the sheer pain of it, and knew nothing except the void— a letting herself go, being absorbed in it…into a sheer nothingness of self, with no awareness of her body, or who, or what she was, coming from within that nothingness to finally find a true sense of peace, safety, and even contentment within that absolute lack of being. Though there was something else something tugging at her—a longing, a wanting, a need of something so pure, and sweet, and wonderful that its loss was heart, and soul wrenching. Like she had lost something very important, but the memories of that other place were rapidly fading as her toehold on this plane became more, and more solid and real.

Now she was being forced back into 'life', to live again—why? Why am I being brought back? Why, why can't I be left alone? She cried as the sadness of what she had lost—was losing tore at her consciousness too. The memories, and wanting of that sense of safety, the comfort, the peace of being nothing pulled at her, called her. She did not want to go back…no…not to life…her life…her—that life was only pain, and hurt. It was worse than this...she had done all she could…she was tired…oblivion …yes, that…that was…had been her reward for all she had endured. But now it was not…it was confusing…very confusing as her awareness grew, only to grow muddled again when she tried to think.

She grew aware of her body again. It was aching, hurting her as each dead nerve became alive again. She was…breathing, or trying to breathe---it was hard, her lungs hurt, and….the air? There didn't seem to be that much of it! What was wrong with the air? It…felt…thick…foul…that's what it was…there was odd smells to wherever she was at…it reminded her of old, musty, dark cellar like smells…dead things…the scents somehow reminded her of vampires? Where did that come from? Yes, it smelled like a vampire's lair, or tomb.

She began to panic, and she pushed her awareness to try and determine where she was and if she was in any danger. Her stiff limbs began to move finally and she regained use of her left hand using it to feel the slick cold material like satin surrounding her as far as she could reach in the very close confines of whatever she was lying in. That was the only clue to what surrounded her because her eyes were useless. She had finally be able to open them, but either she was totally blind, or there was no light…it was a black as a tomb…and as silent, she realized, as no sounds other than those she was making, and her harsh, ragged, strained breaths came to her sensitive ears. It was quiet—too quiet…like she was in some sort of box….? Like a coffin….NO! A COFFIN!!!! A TOMB!!!

TOMB? OH, JESUS!! NO! I—I …I'm not where I think I am—AM I? Her mind started to scream as growing realization of where, and what was going on began to sink into her mind, and awareness. OHH, MY GOD—I AM BURIED –ALIVE!!!! Except I was dead, and now I'M NOT-- but they buried my dead body—I was dead…I was dead…. I really was dead….WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?

MAGICK—has to be! This has to be Dawn's doing, or Willow's—if it's Spike—I am really going to stake his ass! Someone is using magick, and they've brought me back, or is trying to bring me back—that's what the hell is going on! Except no one thought to unbury me, and I'm still…buried—OHH SHIT!!!

I'm fucking alive now, and no one knows it! Geez guys! You couldn't have at least undug me if you were going to do this shit! Idiots! Maybe they think it didn't work—maybe that's it? Maybe they tried and thought the spell they used was a dud because I didn't miraculous appear in front of them or something? Damn who knows with this group—if it is even the guys doing this—Geez, I hope it's them, and not some of sort of demon, or a bunch of damn vampires doing this—that'd be too much to take on top of this….

If I am buried—HOW THE HELL AM I GOING TO GET OUT OF HERE??? I hope this damn thing is wood and not metal—that would just too much if it's one of those metal caskets! And how deep? Please don't let it be six feet or more. But somehow I know it is. That'd be about right. And I know no one thought to put me in a nice dry mausoleum—couldn't be that bloody lucky. See I have been hanging around Spike too much—now I'm saying bloody—just great! How am I going to do this? CAN I DO IT?

Her breathing was getting ragged and harsh in the close confines of her coffin. She knew if she didn't do something quick she was going to die all over again from suffocating due to lack of oxygen. She had to get out of there now! Pulling back as much as she could she rammed her fist upwards into the satin covering and prayed that she was strong enough to punch her way out, Then id she was lucky to get that far, all she had to do was dig, and dig, and hope that the ground was not that firmly packed…this was a nightmare and all she could do was pray that she would be able to get free of it.

End Part 1

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