From: Aslan (aslan_g@lycos.com)
Title: ITD: II - LOST
Series/Sequel: Into The Darkness
Author: Aslan
E-mail: aslan_g@lycos.com
Rating: R
Summary: Buffy finally wakes up but is it too late to make a difference?
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the BTVS Characters, Joss Whedon, The WB and Mutant Enemy own them, etc, etc. I only own the story and any original characters I create along the way.
Distribution: If you want it, please ask. And let me know where it is.
Feedback: Does Riley love cows? Laws, yes!
Spoilers: Umm…Not really. Anya's gone. She flew away, somewhere without letting me know where. Xander's still living in the basement. Buffy is with Riley. Spike's still chipped.
Author's Note: My computer ate my first draft of this. gggrrrrrrrrr!!!!! It was way better.
Need feedback…desperate for it. Pretty please? I'll love you forever!
Song lyrics, belong to whoever wrote the song…And to Holly Cole, I guess. I was listening to it as I wrote and just decided to paste it before the story. *g * I was also listening to 'The Tea Party'… Walking Wounded is an excellent song.
Make it go away, Or make it better…
Isn't that what love's supposed to do?
Make it go away, or make it better,
I would do either one for you.
Holly Cole, "Make It Go Away."
Giles apartment was a beacon of light, glittering in the distance as she ran. Pulling her towards it like a compass to true north. It was home, safe and comfortable…Please god, let it be safe. Let them all be safe. She would give up her life tonight, happily, joyously if only, she could go knowing that the people who meant the most to her were safe.
Gasping and clawing for breath she threw open Giles door without knocking, desperate for knowledge. She counted heads as they popped up to stare at her. Four heads. Two blonde. One brown. One Red. And was disappointed and frightened almost beyond her ability to endure. Spike, Tara, Giles and Willow stared at her in confusion and expectation.
Xander was not here. Xander was missing. No…Oh god no.
"Where's Xander?" Dropped roughly from her lips before her mind had even formulated the question.
"I tried to call you, Buffy. I couldn't reach him. Perhaps he had to work late tonight. I'm sure there is some reasonable explanation…Buffy! Buffy! Where are you going?"
With a worried look after his Slayer Giles glared at the blonde vampire occupying *his * couch. "Go after her, Spike."
"No bloody way!" Spike replied emphatically. Slutty was in a mood today and getting staked for pissing her ass off was not in his plans for the night.
"Spike!" Giles hissed.
"What's innit fer me, Watcher?" Spike grinned cattily.
"Not getting staked right now for starters!" Giles gritted out.
"Not much incentive there, Watcher." The blonde smirked.
Willow squeaked in alarm. "What's happening, Giles?" Her alarm spiked rapidly as Giles spoke again, still glaring at the bleached vampire.
"Anything. Anything, you want Spike. Just make sure they're alright."
Spike's head jerked up in surprise to meet the watcher's eyes. But he only nodded and took off after the retreating slayer. She was easy to follow. He simply trailed the scent of fear and adrenaline drifting on the cool night air.
"Giles…" Willow breathed questioningly. Fear dripping from her voice, begging for a reassurance he could not give. He had no idea what was going on. How can you comfort a fear you cannot name? What the hell was going on! With trepidation he moved towards the phone and again dialed Xander's number…This time he prayed, as he listened to the hollow ringing of the phone in his ear. Please, god. Let the boy answer. Please.
As he begged favors from a god in whom he no longer believed, Willow turned to her girlfriend in misery. And the blonde wordlessly offered her the comfort he was unable to give.
************************************************************
Spike caught up to the slayer on the steps of Xander's hovel. She was staring senselessly at the door as though it held the answers to life's great mysteries in a simple patchwork of wood and metal. It took him a few moments to understand her intense perusal of such an ordinary object. Then it hit him.
The door was ajar.
An open door on the hellmouth, from someone who ordinarily knew better did not indicate happy times to come.
He turned his full attention on the slayer with appraising eyes. She was paler than he was, which was saying a lot…When you're paler than the dead something is seriously not right. She was also crying. Shaky and looking closer to shock than at any time he'd ever seen her. She looked like she'd received a killing blow and just hadn't had the sense to drop dead like any normal person would have before now.
She turned to him with wide crystalline blue eyes. "Spike, what are you doing here?" But she didn't wait for him to answer. Nothing was computing. She was struggling to gather the threads of her consciousness together. Something was very wrong here. There was something knocking upon her brain with a ragged kind of insistence. But she couldn't make it out, couldn't open that door. Open doors…Xander's door was open. Bad, bad door. Stupid Xander. Stupid door. Doors were made to be closed. That was their sole purpose. Didn't this door know that? Why wasn't it closed?
"Why isn't the door closed, Spike?" Buffy wheedled in a lilting, childish voice. "Close the door, Spike. Make it stop. Make it go away."
Spike gaped in utter disbelief. Christ, the wheels were still spinning but the gerbil was dead. The slayer had finally gone round the loony bin. "Slayer, maybe you oughta sit down?" Bloody hell! Pandering to the slayer! When the hell had he started channeling the bloody poof and why hadn't someone mentioned how fucked up he was before today.
He looked at her as though she was about to snap. Like she was straddling the edge of some great abyss, getting ready to fall over that edge with very little provocation and mostly likely ready to drag him down kicking and screaming with her. Like she had a hair-trigger and was seconds from going postal.
He enunciated each word clearly, repeating himself as if to a child. "Buffy, maybe you should sit down? Take a rest, luv?" Preferably no staking until you come back to the happy world of sanity, Christ a crazy slayer! Just what the world needed!
She was in a daze, couldn't think straight. Something was wrong. If she could just go back in time and make sure that goddamn door was closed. That Xander was safe. God, not Xander, anyone but Xander. Hadn't she made enough sacrifices by now? Not this too. Dear, god…When had he come to mean this much to her? Held so dear? How had he managed to breach all her defenses? And how the hell had she failed to notice it? To notice him? And if that damn door hid behind it what she feared, how would she be able to go on without him? Would she even want to?
She started forward one step at a time. Her traitorous body fighting against her with every step she took. She had no control over her own body anymore, no control over anything. It was just a door. A stupid fucking door. Except it was a stupid fucking *open * door. Nobody leaves a door open on the hellmouth… purposely. No, doors were made to close, made to lock…You always, lock doors on the hellmouth. Always. Doors do not stay open. Open doors upon the hellmouth were a dark invitation.
A dark temptation.
Her hand came to rest on the offending object, as hesitation took root.
"Just open the fucking door!" She cried, furious with her fear, hating this reminder of her weakness.
Wow. Tonight was full of firsts wasn't it? An unexpected bounty. First watching the slayer cry and then hearing her curse. Of course her mounting insanity was also a bit of surprise…but whatever. Spike smirked coldly. "You first, Luv."
But the words were lost on her before they even left his mouth. They had no effect on her. As far as Buffy was concerned she was alone on Xander's basement steps. It was too cold and too dark for her to be anything but alone. She was lost.
Once past the door they made their way with surprising ease down the steps into Xander's inner sanctum. It was surprisingly clean and orderly, only a few meager pieces of clothing littered here and there across the floor. There were no signs of struggle…No blood. Buffy felt hope blossoming within her chest. She idly picked up a stray shirt wadded into a ball by her foot. It smelt of cool, clean sweat and Xander. She felt her heart ache, when next she was close enough to touch him she would take hold and never let go. Never.
But that hope died a quick brutal death, ripping her faith open as it died. Beside her Spike was shuddering. Taking in large completely unneeded breaths, gameface on. As she moved towards him she could smell it too.
Blood.
Thick and heady, not a lot but enough that even a human could catch the scent. Following Spike's riveted gaze, she saw it, one word scrawled elegantly across the wall by the door. Written carefully, in a curly-cue, feminine hand. Glaring, down at them darkly, accusingly.
One word.
'SOON'
Spike stared at the bloody signature, speaking without thought. His voice full of awe and something like fear. "Dru."
Buffy stared at her unwitting escort. Fear ripping through her body leaving her even more shaky and exhausted than before. Fighting to control the madness that seemingly wanted to swallow her whole and the begging tone wheedling it's way into her voice. She would not beg Spike for anything, not even this. "Dru?"
Spike groaned. "Ah, Dru…What've ya done?"
"Spike?" Buffy cried in alarm.
He could run. He could lie. But somehow he couldn't bring himself to do either. Perhaps because this girl had refused to stake him, despite the fact that he'd given her ample reasons to do so. Or perhaps because the boy had been the only one who had not actively pitied him. She would learn the truth sooner or later, Dru would make sure of that.
Dru would wipe the pretty slayer's nose in this like a puppy being punished for making a mess. And how fitting, after all that's what this was, a mess. Madness. When the slayer came to her senses she would destroy them all. This Slayer was territorial by nature, persistent at best and vengeful at her worst.
She would not let the boy go without a fight.
She'd defend him like a lioness fighting to protect her cub, all teeth and claws. This stupidly noble girl would fight to the death to protect her little friends, especially the boy. You don't take from a slayer…Especially this slayer, unless you want to find yourself on the wrong end of a stake. Dru had opened the proverbial Pandora's box this time and nothing was going to close it again…
Spike stepped back a few feet and uttered the three words that cut through the slayer like the final nails into her coffin. Completely finishing her off.
"She's turned him."
He needn't have worried about being staked. Buffy was an insensate puddle upon the basement floor before Spike had even finished speaking. She was utterly and completely lost into the darkness that had suddenly engulfed her life.
Title: ITD: II - LOST
Series/Sequel: Into The Darkness
Author: Aslan
E-mail: aslan_g@lycos.com
Rating: R
Summary: Buffy finally wakes up but is it too late to make a difference?
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the BTVS Characters, Joss Whedon, The WB and Mutant Enemy own them, etc, etc. I only own the story and any original characters I create along the way.
Distribution: If you want it, please ask. And let me know where it is.
Feedback: Does Riley love cows? Laws, yes!
Spoilers: Umm…Not really. Anya's gone. She flew away, somewhere without letting me know where. Xander's still living in the basement. Buffy is with Riley. Spike's still chipped.
Author's Note: My computer ate my first draft of this. gggrrrrrrrrr!!!!! It was way better.
Need feedback…desperate for it. Pretty please? I'll love you forever!
Song lyrics, belong to whoever wrote the song…And to Holly Cole, I guess. I was listening to it as I wrote and just decided to paste it before the story. *g * I was also listening to 'The Tea Party'… Walking Wounded is an excellent song.
Make it go away, Or make it better…
Isn't that what love's supposed to do?
Make it go away, or make it better,
I would do either one for you.
Holly Cole, "Make It Go Away."
Giles apartment was a beacon of light, glittering in the distance as she ran. Pulling her towards it like a compass to true north. It was home, safe and comfortable…Please god, let it be safe. Let them all be safe. She would give up her life tonight, happily, joyously if only, she could go knowing that the people who meant the most to her were safe.
Gasping and clawing for breath she threw open Giles door without knocking, desperate for knowledge. She counted heads as they popped up to stare at her. Four heads. Two blonde. One brown. One Red. And was disappointed and frightened almost beyond her ability to endure. Spike, Tara, Giles and Willow stared at her in confusion and expectation.
Xander was not here. Xander was missing. No…Oh god no.
"Where's Xander?" Dropped roughly from her lips before her mind had even formulated the question.
"I tried to call you, Buffy. I couldn't reach him. Perhaps he had to work late tonight. I'm sure there is some reasonable explanation…Buffy! Buffy! Where are you going?"
With a worried look after his Slayer Giles glared at the blonde vampire occupying *his * couch. "Go after her, Spike."
"No bloody way!" Spike replied emphatically. Slutty was in a mood today and getting staked for pissing her ass off was not in his plans for the night.
"Spike!" Giles hissed.
"What's innit fer me, Watcher?" Spike grinned cattily.
"Not getting staked right now for starters!" Giles gritted out.
"Not much incentive there, Watcher." The blonde smirked.
Willow squeaked in alarm. "What's happening, Giles?" Her alarm spiked rapidly as Giles spoke again, still glaring at the bleached vampire.
"Anything. Anything, you want Spike. Just make sure they're alright."
Spike's head jerked up in surprise to meet the watcher's eyes. But he only nodded and took off after the retreating slayer. She was easy to follow. He simply trailed the scent of fear and adrenaline drifting on the cool night air.
"Giles…" Willow breathed questioningly. Fear dripping from her voice, begging for a reassurance he could not give. He had no idea what was going on. How can you comfort a fear you cannot name? What the hell was going on! With trepidation he moved towards the phone and again dialed Xander's number…This time he prayed, as he listened to the hollow ringing of the phone in his ear. Please, god. Let the boy answer. Please.
As he begged favors from a god in whom he no longer believed, Willow turned to her girlfriend in misery. And the blonde wordlessly offered her the comfort he was unable to give.
************************************************************
Spike caught up to the slayer on the steps of Xander's hovel. She was staring senselessly at the door as though it held the answers to life's great mysteries in a simple patchwork of wood and metal. It took him a few moments to understand her intense perusal of such an ordinary object. Then it hit him.
The door was ajar.
An open door on the hellmouth, from someone who ordinarily knew better did not indicate happy times to come.
He turned his full attention on the slayer with appraising eyes. She was paler than he was, which was saying a lot…When you're paler than the dead something is seriously not right. She was also crying. Shaky and looking closer to shock than at any time he'd ever seen her. She looked like she'd received a killing blow and just hadn't had the sense to drop dead like any normal person would have before now.
She turned to him with wide crystalline blue eyes. "Spike, what are you doing here?" But she didn't wait for him to answer. Nothing was computing. She was struggling to gather the threads of her consciousness together. Something was very wrong here. There was something knocking upon her brain with a ragged kind of insistence. But she couldn't make it out, couldn't open that door. Open doors…Xander's door was open. Bad, bad door. Stupid Xander. Stupid door. Doors were made to be closed. That was their sole purpose. Didn't this door know that? Why wasn't it closed?
"Why isn't the door closed, Spike?" Buffy wheedled in a lilting, childish voice. "Close the door, Spike. Make it stop. Make it go away."
Spike gaped in utter disbelief. Christ, the wheels were still spinning but the gerbil was dead. The slayer had finally gone round the loony bin. "Slayer, maybe you oughta sit down?" Bloody hell! Pandering to the slayer! When the hell had he started channeling the bloody poof and why hadn't someone mentioned how fucked up he was before today.
He looked at her as though she was about to snap. Like she was straddling the edge of some great abyss, getting ready to fall over that edge with very little provocation and mostly likely ready to drag him down kicking and screaming with her. Like she had a hair-trigger and was seconds from going postal.
He enunciated each word clearly, repeating himself as if to a child. "Buffy, maybe you should sit down? Take a rest, luv?" Preferably no staking until you come back to the happy world of sanity, Christ a crazy slayer! Just what the world needed!
She was in a daze, couldn't think straight. Something was wrong. If she could just go back in time and make sure that goddamn door was closed. That Xander was safe. God, not Xander, anyone but Xander. Hadn't she made enough sacrifices by now? Not this too. Dear, god…When had he come to mean this much to her? Held so dear? How had he managed to breach all her defenses? And how the hell had she failed to notice it? To notice him? And if that damn door hid behind it what she feared, how would she be able to go on without him? Would she even want to?
She started forward one step at a time. Her traitorous body fighting against her with every step she took. She had no control over her own body anymore, no control over anything. It was just a door. A stupid fucking door. Except it was a stupid fucking *open * door. Nobody leaves a door open on the hellmouth… purposely. No, doors were made to close, made to lock…You always, lock doors on the hellmouth. Always. Doors do not stay open. Open doors upon the hellmouth were a dark invitation.
A dark temptation.
Her hand came to rest on the offending object, as hesitation took root.
"Just open the fucking door!" She cried, furious with her fear, hating this reminder of her weakness.
Wow. Tonight was full of firsts wasn't it? An unexpected bounty. First watching the slayer cry and then hearing her curse. Of course her mounting insanity was also a bit of surprise…but whatever. Spike smirked coldly. "You first, Luv."
But the words were lost on her before they even left his mouth. They had no effect on her. As far as Buffy was concerned she was alone on Xander's basement steps. It was too cold and too dark for her to be anything but alone. She was lost.
Once past the door they made their way with surprising ease down the steps into Xander's inner sanctum. It was surprisingly clean and orderly, only a few meager pieces of clothing littered here and there across the floor. There were no signs of struggle…No blood. Buffy felt hope blossoming within her chest. She idly picked up a stray shirt wadded into a ball by her foot. It smelt of cool, clean sweat and Xander. She felt her heart ache, when next she was close enough to touch him she would take hold and never let go. Never.
But that hope died a quick brutal death, ripping her faith open as it died. Beside her Spike was shuddering. Taking in large completely unneeded breaths, gameface on. As she moved towards him she could smell it too.
Blood.
Thick and heady, not a lot but enough that even a human could catch the scent. Following Spike's riveted gaze, she saw it, one word scrawled elegantly across the wall by the door. Written carefully, in a curly-cue, feminine hand. Glaring, down at them darkly, accusingly.
One word.
'SOON'
Spike stared at the bloody signature, speaking without thought. His voice full of awe and something like fear. "Dru."
Buffy stared at her unwitting escort. Fear ripping through her body leaving her even more shaky and exhausted than before. Fighting to control the madness that seemingly wanted to swallow her whole and the begging tone wheedling it's way into her voice. She would not beg Spike for anything, not even this. "Dru?"
Spike groaned. "Ah, Dru…What've ya done?"
"Spike?" Buffy cried in alarm.
He could run. He could lie. But somehow he couldn't bring himself to do either. Perhaps because this girl had refused to stake him, despite the fact that he'd given her ample reasons to do so. Or perhaps because the boy had been the only one who had not actively pitied him. She would learn the truth sooner or later, Dru would make sure of that.
Dru would wipe the pretty slayer's nose in this like a puppy being punished for making a mess. And how fitting, after all that's what this was, a mess. Madness. When the slayer came to her senses she would destroy them all. This Slayer was territorial by nature, persistent at best and vengeful at her worst.
She would not let the boy go without a fight.
She'd defend him like a lioness fighting to protect her cub, all teeth and claws. This stupidly noble girl would fight to the death to protect her little friends, especially the boy. You don't take from a slayer…Especially this slayer, unless you want to find yourself on the wrong end of a stake. Dru had opened the proverbial Pandora's box this time and nothing was going to close it again…
Spike stepped back a few feet and uttered the three words that cut through the slayer like the final nails into her coffin. Completely finishing her off.
"She's turned him."
He needn't have worried about being staked. Buffy was an insensate puddle upon the basement floor before Spike had even finished speaking. She was utterly and completely lost into the darkness that had suddenly engulfed her life.