Title: The Sacrifice (The Peacemaker Prophesy, pt 14)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Yes, please
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN,
Fox... Just Borrowing.
Summary: Spike is mortally wounded and alone after a visit from
Drusilla. Drusilla is caught by Gwydion. Buffy makes a sacrifice
to help Spike and waits for the sunrise in hopes it will save him.
The Sacrifice
Drusilla crept back into the house unnoticed, or so she thought.
She tiptoed like a child fearing being caught peeking at her
Christmas presents.
"Drusilla?" the polished, perfect, voice sounded from a darkened
corner. He stepped into the soft lamp light in front of the
frightened girl.
"Y..yes."
"Where have you been, my dear girl?" Gwydion asked, stepping into
her path.
Drusilla thought a moment. "Been to see Spike."
"And what did you see, little one?"
"Death," Drusilla muttered.
"Did you speak?"
"Yes."
"About?"
"Love."
"Do you love him still, dear?"
"Yes," she answered. "But our time has passed."
"Did you..."
"No," she answered, reading his thoughts. "He tastes like ashes."
Gwydion stared at the dark girl for a long moment before nodding her
dismissal. Slowly, Drusilla glided out of the room as if she walked
upon the air.
*****
"Buffy?"
Buffy was pacing back and forth across the baby's room. Not long
after their return, Emma had erupted into hysterical screams,
uncharacteristic terror for the most content child alive. Emma was
cradled against Buffy's chest as the woman silently stalked the
room.
"Buffy?"
"Get.Out." she hissed at him. Angel stood in the doorway looking
hurt, confused, guilty.
"Buffy, I..."
"You what?" she snapped. All semblance of rational thought had
disappeared when she felt Spike's blood crawl across her fingers.
When she had seen his eyes blankly stare at her face.
"I had no... I didn't mean to.."
"To what, Angel?"
"I..."
"To kill him?" she asked, her voice laced with fear and rage.
"Buffy, he may not be dead."
"No thanks to you."
"It *was* an accident."
"An accident," Buffy whispered, the tears starting again. "An
accident," she repeated.
"It was.."
"Regardless," she said, fighting off tears, "you might just have
destroyed us tonight, so forgive me if I am not feeling very
forgiving."
"I didn't mean.."
"Mean to take away her father? Mean to break my heart? Again?"
Fire and ice battled in her voice.
"Buffy..."
"Get.Out." Buffy said, flatly.
"Right. I'll go down to the basement and we'll..."
"Get out of the house. Go home. Live your... unlife. I'll take
care of this myself," Buffy ordered, not thinking, just reacting.
"I promised Spike that...."
"Lot of good that'll do now,:" Buffy snapped. She breathed deeply,
still pacing along the carpet, the crying baby against her chest.
Fear and anger and hurt controlled her now. "Look," she said, in a
forced moment of sanity, "please go before either of us say things
we can't take back."
"Buffy, I *am* sorry."
"Please," Buffy said, sobbing now, her shaking body matching her
daughter's. Her sadness dropped on Angel like a brick. Slowly, he
turned to go.
*****
Spike laid there in the darkness, the candle flames flickering
against the wall, creating long, thin shadows. He watched the
shadows because he thought that if he closed his eyes, he may not
have the energy to open them again. The bleeding had stopped , but
he could feel the sticky substance of life and of death all around
him. The wound was pulling tight. So there were still healing
powers. Still, he thought, too little too late.
He thought about trying to get up. To find something to clean off
the mess, but his insides felt torn in two and his head felt as if
it were made of lead. Moving seemed... impossible.
Spike watched the candle flicker against the wall. He had died once
before alone. He did not care to do it again.
*****
A slight knock came at Emma's door. "Buffy?"
Buffy stood at the window, leaning against the frame. Spike always
stood here with Emma. She could feel him here. Emma was in an
uneasy sleep in her arm. The baby whimpered and moaned, wriggling
as if every bad dream had descended upon her all at once. Seven
fairies still stood sentry on the sill, but they did not flutter or
dance. They sat quietly, wings folded n the dying moonlight. Not
much longer until dawn.
"Buffy?"
Buffy turned her exhausted, tear stained face toward the voice at
the door. Tara stood, Willow shadowing her. She was holding a
small, leather knapsack. "Yeah," Buffy muttered, not moving from
the spot.
Tara stepped gently into the room, setting the bag on the recliner.
"I packed up some medical supplies. Well, Willow did. Stuff we
found around here. You have a lot."
"Occupational hazard," Buffy commented, trying to smile.
Tara's faced stilled, became serious. "I..I know that you... and
Spike.. aren't big fans of magic..."
"No... no... no bringing people back," Buffy said quietly, her
tears starting again. Sometimes she felt like a fountain.
"No," Tara responded, shaking her head. "Nothing like that."
Slowly, Tara slid two bottles from the knapsack. One red. One
blue. "These are... potions.. that I made. No dark magic. Mostly
just herbal medicines with a little... Goddess juice," she
continued smiling. Buffy furrowed her brow. "Think of it as white
magic. Booster. The blue bottle goes on the wound itself once it
has been cleaned. It should help seal it off."
Buffy looked at Tara uneasily, but nodded in understanding.
"The red one," Tara continued, holding it up in the soft lamplight,
"is a little stronger. It's an infusion of herbs and a little
magic, mixed in blood."
Buffy jumped a bit. "What blood?"
"The regular," Tara said, smiling softly. "From the fridge."
"Oh," Buffy muttered. "Should it be... you know... should you
use..?"
"Yours?" Tara asked, reading her face more than her thoughts.
"Slayer blood is the strongest, but the infusion takes too much.
Spike would never want..."
Buffy walked to Tara. "But some would help?"
Tara looked worried, not sure how to answer. Draining Buffy was
wrong on so many levels. Not to mention that if Spike survived, he
was likely to chastise Tara into the ground. For a moment, she
considered chuckling at that thought. "Technically, yes, but this
should do just fine. It's not a cure, Buffy. It's just going to
help him... recharge. It won't last. Just a few hours. Hopefully
we can find a doctor in the meantime."
"But my blood would help?" Emma shifted in her mother's arms,
crying out softly. Buffy patted her back instinctively, pulling the
baby tighter against her.
"Y...yes."
Buffy looked down at Emma's pretty face. Felt her skin. Toyed with
her little fingers. I have to do something, Buffy thought. I left
him alone there to die. Softly, Buffy kissed the top of Emma's head
and motioned to Willow. Willow stepped silently from the doorway
and gently took Emma from Buffy. "Let's go," Buffy said softly,
grabbing Tara's hand.
*****
They stood face to face in the bathroom, the red bottle and a candle
set between them on the cold marble countertop. Tara's eyes were
closed and she was chanting softly, passing an athame back and forth
through the flame. Buffy thought she should be scared, or at least
nervous, but instead, she felt only a faint numbness and resolution.
Tara's eyes flickered opened and she took Buffy's hand in hers,
slowly turning it until the soft light skin of her inner arm
glistened in the candlelight. Buffy nodded and Tara drew the knife
across Buffy's wrist in one quick stroke. Her blood bubbled to the
surface in a neat, red line, pooling along her skin. Tara softly
turned her arm again, allowing Buffy's very essence to drip softly
into the bottle.
Buffy closed her eyes. There was no pain. No worry greater than
her love for Spike and their daughter. In that moment, it dawned on
her that no sacrifice was too great. She squeezed her hand into a
fist and felt the blood pump steadily from the wound. Instead of
feeling drained, Buffy felt as if she were filling. Filling with
hope, determination, resolve, love. She could save him.
*****
The first rays of the sun began to peak over the horizon in shades
of pink and amber and gold. Buffy was packing everything back into
the knapsack, her arm neatly bandaged and cared for by Tara.
"Buffy," Tara began. "He has to drink the whole bottle. All of it.
It will only help for a few hours. A bit longer with your blood.
It won't do anything if he's already...."
"I know," Buffy said, not wanting to hear it said. She lifted the
knapsack over her shoulder.
"Since it is daylight, Willow and I are going to go find a doctor
who might know something about..."
"Start with the nurse who delivered Emma," Buffy said.
"Xander will stay with Dawn. Anya's still trying to track down
Giles."
"Track down?"
"She called for hours and finally got a hold of a woman."
"A woman?" This was no time to deal with Giles' personal life.
"A woman. Said he was on sabbatical. Some sort of vision quest or
something."
"Well, ask her to keep trying," Buffy said. Dawn came in the room
and took her niece from Willow, freeing the two women to leave on
their mission. Buffy stared out the window, the first few rays of
the sun burning into the morning sky. "I have to go," she said
solemnly. She walked to Dawn touching her face. "I love you. You
know that."
Dawn nodded, teary eyed.
"Take care of her. We'll be back soon." Buffy leaned down, kissing
Emma's forehead, then turned away at a run through the door.
To be contd.
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Yes, please
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN,
Fox... Just Borrowing.
Summary: Spike is mortally wounded and alone after a visit from
Drusilla. Drusilla is caught by Gwydion. Buffy makes a sacrifice
to help Spike and waits for the sunrise in hopes it will save him.
The Sacrifice
Drusilla crept back into the house unnoticed, or so she thought.
She tiptoed like a child fearing being caught peeking at her
Christmas presents.
"Drusilla?" the polished, perfect, voice sounded from a darkened
corner. He stepped into the soft lamp light in front of the
frightened girl.
"Y..yes."
"Where have you been, my dear girl?" Gwydion asked, stepping into
her path.
Drusilla thought a moment. "Been to see Spike."
"And what did you see, little one?"
"Death," Drusilla muttered.
"Did you speak?"
"Yes."
"About?"
"Love."
"Do you love him still, dear?"
"Yes," she answered. "But our time has passed."
"Did you..."
"No," she answered, reading his thoughts. "He tastes like ashes."
Gwydion stared at the dark girl for a long moment before nodding her
dismissal. Slowly, Drusilla glided out of the room as if she walked
upon the air.
*****
"Buffy?"
Buffy was pacing back and forth across the baby's room. Not long
after their return, Emma had erupted into hysterical screams,
uncharacteristic terror for the most content child alive. Emma was
cradled against Buffy's chest as the woman silently stalked the
room.
"Buffy?"
"Get.Out." she hissed at him. Angel stood in the doorway looking
hurt, confused, guilty.
"Buffy, I..."
"You what?" she snapped. All semblance of rational thought had
disappeared when she felt Spike's blood crawl across her fingers.
When she had seen his eyes blankly stare at her face.
"I had no... I didn't mean to.."
"To what, Angel?"
"I..."
"To kill him?" she asked, her voice laced with fear and rage.
"Buffy, he may not be dead."
"No thanks to you."
"It *was* an accident."
"An accident," Buffy whispered, the tears starting again. "An
accident," she repeated.
"It was.."
"Regardless," she said, fighting off tears, "you might just have
destroyed us tonight, so forgive me if I am not feeling very
forgiving."
"I didn't mean.."
"Mean to take away her father? Mean to break my heart? Again?"
Fire and ice battled in her voice.
"Buffy..."
"Get.Out." Buffy said, flatly.
"Right. I'll go down to the basement and we'll..."
"Get out of the house. Go home. Live your... unlife. I'll take
care of this myself," Buffy ordered, not thinking, just reacting.
"I promised Spike that...."
"Lot of good that'll do now,:" Buffy snapped. She breathed deeply,
still pacing along the carpet, the crying baby against her chest.
Fear and anger and hurt controlled her now. "Look," she said, in a
forced moment of sanity, "please go before either of us say things
we can't take back."
"Buffy, I *am* sorry."
"Please," Buffy said, sobbing now, her shaking body matching her
daughter's. Her sadness dropped on Angel like a brick. Slowly, he
turned to go.
*****
Spike laid there in the darkness, the candle flames flickering
against the wall, creating long, thin shadows. He watched the
shadows because he thought that if he closed his eyes, he may not
have the energy to open them again. The bleeding had stopped , but
he could feel the sticky substance of life and of death all around
him. The wound was pulling tight. So there were still healing
powers. Still, he thought, too little too late.
He thought about trying to get up. To find something to clean off
the mess, but his insides felt torn in two and his head felt as if
it were made of lead. Moving seemed... impossible.
Spike watched the candle flicker against the wall. He had died once
before alone. He did not care to do it again.
*****
A slight knock came at Emma's door. "Buffy?"
Buffy stood at the window, leaning against the frame. Spike always
stood here with Emma. She could feel him here. Emma was in an
uneasy sleep in her arm. The baby whimpered and moaned, wriggling
as if every bad dream had descended upon her all at once. Seven
fairies still stood sentry on the sill, but they did not flutter or
dance. They sat quietly, wings folded n the dying moonlight. Not
much longer until dawn.
"Buffy?"
Buffy turned her exhausted, tear stained face toward the voice at
the door. Tara stood, Willow shadowing her. She was holding a
small, leather knapsack. "Yeah," Buffy muttered, not moving from
the spot.
Tara stepped gently into the room, setting the bag on the recliner.
"I packed up some medical supplies. Well, Willow did. Stuff we
found around here. You have a lot."
"Occupational hazard," Buffy commented, trying to smile.
Tara's faced stilled, became serious. "I..I know that you... and
Spike.. aren't big fans of magic..."
"No... no... no bringing people back," Buffy said quietly, her
tears starting again. Sometimes she felt like a fountain.
"No," Tara responded, shaking her head. "Nothing like that."
Slowly, Tara slid two bottles from the knapsack. One red. One
blue. "These are... potions.. that I made. No dark magic. Mostly
just herbal medicines with a little... Goddess juice," she
continued smiling. Buffy furrowed her brow. "Think of it as white
magic. Booster. The blue bottle goes on the wound itself once it
has been cleaned. It should help seal it off."
Buffy looked at Tara uneasily, but nodded in understanding.
"The red one," Tara continued, holding it up in the soft lamplight,
"is a little stronger. It's an infusion of herbs and a little
magic, mixed in blood."
Buffy jumped a bit. "What blood?"
"The regular," Tara said, smiling softly. "From the fridge."
"Oh," Buffy muttered. "Should it be... you know... should you
use..?"
"Yours?" Tara asked, reading her face more than her thoughts.
"Slayer blood is the strongest, but the infusion takes too much.
Spike would never want..."
Buffy walked to Tara. "But some would help?"
Tara looked worried, not sure how to answer. Draining Buffy was
wrong on so many levels. Not to mention that if Spike survived, he
was likely to chastise Tara into the ground. For a moment, she
considered chuckling at that thought. "Technically, yes, but this
should do just fine. It's not a cure, Buffy. It's just going to
help him... recharge. It won't last. Just a few hours. Hopefully
we can find a doctor in the meantime."
"But my blood would help?" Emma shifted in her mother's arms,
crying out softly. Buffy patted her back instinctively, pulling the
baby tighter against her.
"Y...yes."
Buffy looked down at Emma's pretty face. Felt her skin. Toyed with
her little fingers. I have to do something, Buffy thought. I left
him alone there to die. Softly, Buffy kissed the top of Emma's head
and motioned to Willow. Willow stepped silently from the doorway
and gently took Emma from Buffy. "Let's go," Buffy said softly,
grabbing Tara's hand.
*****
They stood face to face in the bathroom, the red bottle and a candle
set between them on the cold marble countertop. Tara's eyes were
closed and she was chanting softly, passing an athame back and forth
through the flame. Buffy thought she should be scared, or at least
nervous, but instead, she felt only a faint numbness and resolution.
Tara's eyes flickered opened and she took Buffy's hand in hers,
slowly turning it until the soft light skin of her inner arm
glistened in the candlelight. Buffy nodded and Tara drew the knife
across Buffy's wrist in one quick stroke. Her blood bubbled to the
surface in a neat, red line, pooling along her skin. Tara softly
turned her arm again, allowing Buffy's very essence to drip softly
into the bottle.
Buffy closed her eyes. There was no pain. No worry greater than
her love for Spike and their daughter. In that moment, it dawned on
her that no sacrifice was too great. She squeezed her hand into a
fist and felt the blood pump steadily from the wound. Instead of
feeling drained, Buffy felt as if she were filling. Filling with
hope, determination, resolve, love. She could save him.
*****
The first rays of the sun began to peak over the horizon in shades
of pink and amber and gold. Buffy was packing everything back into
the knapsack, her arm neatly bandaged and cared for by Tara.
"Buffy," Tara began. "He has to drink the whole bottle. All of it.
It will only help for a few hours. A bit longer with your blood.
It won't do anything if he's already...."
"I know," Buffy said, not wanting to hear it said. She lifted the
knapsack over her shoulder.
"Since it is daylight, Willow and I are going to go find a doctor
who might know something about..."
"Start with the nurse who delivered Emma," Buffy said.
"Xander will stay with Dawn. Anya's still trying to track down
Giles."
"Track down?"
"She called for hours and finally got a hold of a woman."
"A woman?" This was no time to deal with Giles' personal life.
"A woman. Said he was on sabbatical. Some sort of vision quest or
something."
"Well, ask her to keep trying," Buffy said. Dawn came in the room
and took her niece from Willow, freeing the two women to leave on
their mission. Buffy stared out the window, the first few rays of
the sun burning into the morning sky. "I have to go," she said
solemnly. She walked to Dawn touching her face. "I love you. You
know that."
Dawn nodded, teary eyed.
"Take care of her. We'll be back soon." Buffy leaned down, kissing
Emma's forehead, then turned away at a run through the door.
To be contd.
