Title: The Peacemaker (part 7 - New Life)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG - 13
Feedback: Yes, please
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.. Just Borrowing.
Summary: Spike receives a visit from a ghostly friend. Buffy departs on her journey to find Spike.
The Peacemaker
Spike hung limply against the chains. He was beaten inside and out.
Between the physical punishment, the startling lack of sustenance, and the constant video that Luke now piped in, Spike did not think he could, nor did he want to, make it through another moment. Too bad he was already dead several times over, he thought.
The door at the far end of the room creaked open. Spike did not even bother to crane his head toward the sound anymore. All it meant was more terrible things. He just hung there, staring at the red dust sweeping across the floor.
"Spike?" he heard. A woman's voice. Sweet and rich and melodic. Almost like Buffy's but with the slightest tinge of an accent. "Spike?"
Spike picked up his head and turned his battered face towards the sound. A beautiful woman was standing at the entryway. She could not have been more than eighteen. The girl looked like an angel, almost like Tara had that night; not quite solid, shimmering, glowing. It was as if her body was carved out of moonstone but she moved as if she were made of liquid mercury.
The girl was small and pretty. As beautiful as Buffy, Spike thought. She was built like her. Lean and muscular and graceful with a stature much larger than her size. Pretty blonde hair, high, strong cheekbones, smooth peach skin, coral lips and piercing blue eyes. The girl was a vision, and a good one at that, Spike thought.
"Hi, Spike," she whispered walking towards him. She brushed her hands
against the metal restraints at his wrists and they fell to the floor.
Spike fell limply to the dirt as if the metal was the only thing holding his bones in place.
The girl sat down in the dirt and lifted Spike's head gently into her lap, brushing his face with her hands. "Who are you?" he croaked "You don't belong here."
"I am the Peacemaker," she answered, brushing her hands over his aching
chest.
"The Peacemaker?" Spike asked. "Kind of name is that, love?"
" I have no name. I have no context in your world yet," she answered in
that soft angelic voice. "But you know of me."
"Legend, myth." Spike coughed. The girl silenced him, lifting a cup to his lips. He drank deeply feeling the fluid ignite his veins, awaken his mind. It was not blood nor water, nor anything he had ever tasted. Ambrosia, he thought. This is what Ambrosia tastes like.
"Prophesy," the girl corrected.
"Dodgy prophesy at best," Spike countered, "No real basis."
"Ah, but I am real," she retorted, smiling the most beautiful smile.
"Are you?" he asked, unable to avoid smiling back at her.
"Quite," she answered. " I am the one to bring peace between the
dimensions, to bridge the gap between man and beast..."
"The one to stop the wars..." Spike continued almost by rote. He could not even remember when he had learned the words.
"And you," she said, placing her hand over his heart, shocking him with her touch, "cannot give up."
"Why does that matter?" It almost hurt to look upon her she was so perfect. She was so much like Buffy. So ... light. The ache in his heart was palpable.
"Because you have to protect me," she answered. "You and the Slayer."
"Wha?" he tried to respond, his face blanking completely. The girl shushed him softly.
"No more talking." Her shimmering, glowing beauty mesmerized him. His
mouth snapped shut at her request. "She is coming for you, Spike," the girl continued.
"Buffy..."
Spike was shushed again like a wayward child. "Buffy," the girl said
smiling softly, peacefully. "No matter what is said in this place, or what you see, no matter what happens when she comes, you *must* leave when you have the chance. Even if that means leaving her behind. Do not hesitate. Do not look back. When you see an opening, you *must* take it."
"But Buffy... she can't... I can't... not like that... "
"I will tend to her," the girl assured him. "But you must go. Do you
understand?"
Spike swallowed hard, nodding.
"Now, sleep," she whispered, kissing his forehead. He fell drowning into her embrace and was gone before she uttered another word.
*****
They walked to the schoolyard in silence. All together, as if being apart might break the chain that made them all human. Buffy walked arm in arm with Dawn, stoic and serious and deathly quiet. Willow had told her everything she had seen. Anya had told her everything that she knew. If Buffy could find the red house, if she could find Luke, then she could find Spike. If she found Spike, she would not leave without him. Her determination was evident in her stride.
They arranged in a circle in that spot in front of the jungle gym where
Spike had disappeared. Buffy could still feel him there, like an ache in her bones. Giles reasoned that opening the portal would be most efficient in a spot where it had opened before. No one questioned him. They rarely ever did.
It was dark. Moonless. The irony of opening the gates of Hell in a
schoolyard was not lost. The most dastardly things arose from the most
innocent of places. It never ceased to amaze Buffy how ironic the world
could be. How utterly ironic.
Buffy had made it clear that she did not want to say goodbye to any of them. Good-byes were never good. They tended to mean, in her jaded view of the world, that you were going somewhere irretrievable, someplace from which you could not return. Dawn had curled up in Buffy's bed the night before and that was more than she could bear. The fear was already gnawing at her mind. Still, this had to be done. Speak now or forever hold your peace, she thought.
Buffy nodded and Giles slid a knife from a small sheath at his waist. Dawn looked frightened, but she held out her arm willingly and let her wrist fall into Giles's cupped palm. She had practiced her lines, imagined the pain over and over as if rehearsing for a very dark play. Still, she was afraid. Dawn needed Spike nearly as much as Buffy and she desperately wanted to do this one thing right.
Giles looked at the teenager softly, studying her face. In that moment, she became as old as the heavens, as wise as the Earth, as bright as the stars. He nodded at her slightly. The voice of the trembling girl suddenly became the song of millions of generations. Rich and sweet and powerful.
"Open the portal to the depths of Hell
The gates of La Maison Rouge
Let this traveler pass freely between.
And guard her journey through."
Giles slid the knife across Dawn's fingers. Three drops of blood slid
slowly to the sand, spreading into a vast pool. It shimmered and sparkled, glowing blue with an eerie light.
"Guess this is my stop," Buffy said, looking at Dawn and Giles. "See ya
around," she whispered, stepping into the blue nothingness. And she was
gone.
to be contd.
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG - 13
Feedback: Yes, please
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.. Just Borrowing.
Summary: Spike receives a visit from a ghostly friend. Buffy departs on her journey to find Spike.
The Peacemaker
Spike hung limply against the chains. He was beaten inside and out.
Between the physical punishment, the startling lack of sustenance, and the constant video that Luke now piped in, Spike did not think he could, nor did he want to, make it through another moment. Too bad he was already dead several times over, he thought.
The door at the far end of the room creaked open. Spike did not even bother to crane his head toward the sound anymore. All it meant was more terrible things. He just hung there, staring at the red dust sweeping across the floor.
"Spike?" he heard. A woman's voice. Sweet and rich and melodic. Almost like Buffy's but with the slightest tinge of an accent. "Spike?"
Spike picked up his head and turned his battered face towards the sound. A beautiful woman was standing at the entryway. She could not have been more than eighteen. The girl looked like an angel, almost like Tara had that night; not quite solid, shimmering, glowing. It was as if her body was carved out of moonstone but she moved as if she were made of liquid mercury.
The girl was small and pretty. As beautiful as Buffy, Spike thought. She was built like her. Lean and muscular and graceful with a stature much larger than her size. Pretty blonde hair, high, strong cheekbones, smooth peach skin, coral lips and piercing blue eyes. The girl was a vision, and a good one at that, Spike thought.
"Hi, Spike," she whispered walking towards him. She brushed her hands
against the metal restraints at his wrists and they fell to the floor.
Spike fell limply to the dirt as if the metal was the only thing holding his bones in place.
The girl sat down in the dirt and lifted Spike's head gently into her lap, brushing his face with her hands. "Who are you?" he croaked "You don't belong here."
"I am the Peacemaker," she answered, brushing her hands over his aching
chest.
"The Peacemaker?" Spike asked. "Kind of name is that, love?"
" I have no name. I have no context in your world yet," she answered in
that soft angelic voice. "But you know of me."
"Legend, myth." Spike coughed. The girl silenced him, lifting a cup to his lips. He drank deeply feeling the fluid ignite his veins, awaken his mind. It was not blood nor water, nor anything he had ever tasted. Ambrosia, he thought. This is what Ambrosia tastes like.
"Prophesy," the girl corrected.
"Dodgy prophesy at best," Spike countered, "No real basis."
"Ah, but I am real," she retorted, smiling the most beautiful smile.
"Are you?" he asked, unable to avoid smiling back at her.
"Quite," she answered. " I am the one to bring peace between the
dimensions, to bridge the gap between man and beast..."
"The one to stop the wars..." Spike continued almost by rote. He could not even remember when he had learned the words.
"And you," she said, placing her hand over his heart, shocking him with her touch, "cannot give up."
"Why does that matter?" It almost hurt to look upon her she was so perfect. She was so much like Buffy. So ... light. The ache in his heart was palpable.
"Because you have to protect me," she answered. "You and the Slayer."
"Wha?" he tried to respond, his face blanking completely. The girl shushed him softly.
"No more talking." Her shimmering, glowing beauty mesmerized him. His
mouth snapped shut at her request. "She is coming for you, Spike," the girl continued.
"Buffy..."
Spike was shushed again like a wayward child. "Buffy," the girl said
smiling softly, peacefully. "No matter what is said in this place, or what you see, no matter what happens when she comes, you *must* leave when you have the chance. Even if that means leaving her behind. Do not hesitate. Do not look back. When you see an opening, you *must* take it."
"But Buffy... she can't... I can't... not like that... "
"I will tend to her," the girl assured him. "But you must go. Do you
understand?"
Spike swallowed hard, nodding.
"Now, sleep," she whispered, kissing his forehead. He fell drowning into her embrace and was gone before she uttered another word.
*****
They walked to the schoolyard in silence. All together, as if being apart might break the chain that made them all human. Buffy walked arm in arm with Dawn, stoic and serious and deathly quiet. Willow had told her everything she had seen. Anya had told her everything that she knew. If Buffy could find the red house, if she could find Luke, then she could find Spike. If she found Spike, she would not leave without him. Her determination was evident in her stride.
They arranged in a circle in that spot in front of the jungle gym where
Spike had disappeared. Buffy could still feel him there, like an ache in her bones. Giles reasoned that opening the portal would be most efficient in a spot where it had opened before. No one questioned him. They rarely ever did.
It was dark. Moonless. The irony of opening the gates of Hell in a
schoolyard was not lost. The most dastardly things arose from the most
innocent of places. It never ceased to amaze Buffy how ironic the world
could be. How utterly ironic.
Buffy had made it clear that she did not want to say goodbye to any of them. Good-byes were never good. They tended to mean, in her jaded view of the world, that you were going somewhere irretrievable, someplace from which you could not return. Dawn had curled up in Buffy's bed the night before and that was more than she could bear. The fear was already gnawing at her mind. Still, this had to be done. Speak now or forever hold your peace, she thought.
Buffy nodded and Giles slid a knife from a small sheath at his waist. Dawn looked frightened, but she held out her arm willingly and let her wrist fall into Giles's cupped palm. She had practiced her lines, imagined the pain over and over as if rehearsing for a very dark play. Still, she was afraid. Dawn needed Spike nearly as much as Buffy and she desperately wanted to do this one thing right.
Giles looked at the teenager softly, studying her face. In that moment, she became as old as the heavens, as wise as the Earth, as bright as the stars. He nodded at her slightly. The voice of the trembling girl suddenly became the song of millions of generations. Rich and sweet and powerful.
"Open the portal to the depths of Hell
The gates of La Maison Rouge
Let this traveler pass freely between.
And guard her journey through."
Giles slid the knife across Dawn's fingers. Three drops of blood slid
slowly to the sand, spreading into a vast pool. It shimmered and sparkled, glowing blue with an eerie light.
"Guess this is my stop," Buffy said, looking at Dawn and Giles. "See ya
around," she whispered, stepping into the blue nothingness. And she was
gone.
to be contd.