Chapter 23: Mind Games

Tara felt a flash of energy spread through her veins, forcing her to arch back and gasp for air. The energy built and built until Tara felt as if it was forcing her to float and levitate from the ground. Then suddenly, she collapsed, everything in her peripheral vision darkening and blackening, and she felt her body hit the cold hardness of a steely floor. Groggily, she sat up and gazed around her. She blinked back the cloudiness that permeated through what appeared to be a closed off little room and scanned around to locate Buffy. She wasn't exactly sure what she would do once she found her, this wasn't like the time Willow went through Buffy's head. This was imposed on Buffy, by someone who's power Tara could scarcely comprehend. She could only pray that she would be able to save Buffy in time. Suddenly she saw her. Ghost-like, Buffy sat at a table, staring vacuously in front of her while Rack circled her menacingly.

"You failed again," he was saying. "You always fail. What's the point in fighting it?"

"I d-don't know w-what y-you're talking about." Buffy shook her head feverishly with tears in her eyes. Tara had rarely ever seen her so weak.

"You know. The good fight. Life. Love. You fail at everything. Look at you now. Here you are whimpering while all of your friends fight the fight you're supposed to."

"I can kill you. I will kill you. And if I don't they will." Buffy glared at him sharply.

Rack laughed as lazily circled her once more, leaning in towards her so that his cold breath spread across her neck. Buffy recoiled from the touch. "They might . . ." he whispered, "they might not." Chuckling he straightened as he stepped away from her. "Not like it matters. You might win this fight, but eventually, you'll fail . . . again."

"No," Buffy whispered hoarsely.

Rack maintained a fiendish smile, slowly harshly. "Yes you will. You were born to fail. You were born to fight. You're the Slayer. You were chosen to fight against the forces of darkness, but guess what?" He cocked his head as he spat out the words venomously. "They won't stop coming. You can fight them, but you'll never stop them from coming. Your whole life will be full of ugliness and despair, because evil . . . and death will always find you, consume you. And eventually . . . you'll give in . . . like last time."

"No," she continued say, eyes vacant.

"You were lucky last time. Your friends toyed with the fates, brought you back, saved you from your destiny. Or did they? Didn't they just prolong it? Because eventually you will lose the good fight. You have to. Face it. You were better off lying in your grave."

"NO!" Buffy ground her hands to her ears and squeezed her eyes closed tightly, trying to avoid the truth.

"What is there for you, Buffy? What holds you to life? Your friends, family? Look at them Buffy. They were doing fine without you. Now you come back and look what happened. They tore you from the highest bliss. How can you trust them? And look how they are. Your best friend in shambles, you're surrogate father gone . . .

"You're the Slayer. Death is your gift," he continued. "Your own sister was created from you in order to die. You're destiny is the same. Kill or be killed. You can fight every demon in the book and there will always be a new one by nightfall. And you have no choice but to kill them. You couldn't give up being the Slayer if you tried, not with that simpleton conscience of yours. And you'll kill and kill and kill for the rest of your days. Until there's no place in your life for anything else. And eventually, you'll have enough. You'll give in. You'll no longer kill. You'll secretly pray for the day you are killed."

"NO!" Buffy screamed once more and Tara winced from the scene. Buffy threw back the chair she was sitting in and ran for the door of the room. Rack chuckled.

"You can't run from the truth Buffy. You can try and seek solace in the arms you're lover, your friend, but you know that won't last long, now will it. He's getting ready to leave. And they'll all leave you Buffy . . . they always do . . . your father . . . Angel . . . Riley . . . now him . . . Death is your gift, Buffy. The Powers that Be never said Love was. Because who would ever want to love the shell of a killer?" His eyes narrowed as he emphasized the words demonically.

Buffy stared at him, somehow unable to lift a hand against him. She just stood broken, defeated, giving into the web of verbal barbs he constructed that she could never deny. Pleased at the sight of her giving in, he unsheathed a large dagger, letting it flicker and glow menacingly in the dim light. Suddenly, his flashed towards her as he handed it to her. "Do it, Buffy," he instructed. "You know you want to. Accept you're destiny. Accept solace." Blankly, Buffy accepted the dagger and stared at it as she slowly turned it around in her hands. With shaking hands, she slowly gripped it with both hands and held it inches from her heart. She closed her eyes as she prepared to plunge it into her chest.

"NO!" Tara screamed, rushing out of the shadows, catching Buffy's wrists in her hands. "Buffy you don't want to do this!"

Buffy turned to Tara in a haze. "Yes I do," she whispered to Tara tearfully, yet flatly. She turned back to Rack with empty eyes. "He's right. This is my destiny."

"No it's not Buffy!" Tara exclaimed, tugging Buffy insistently. "This . . . this is just a dream. This is something that Rack created. Something that he's fed into your mind in order to break you down so he'll win. You can't listen to him!"

"Everything he said is true, Tara." Buffy turned to Tara once more, and Tara could see an eerie recognition in her eyes. Tara shook her head firmly.

"No. He just wants to win, can't you see that Buffy. This is just a dream. A hallucination. But if you kill yourself, in your mind, it'll shut down . . . you'll be brain dead . . . dead dead."

Buffy continued to stare at Tara quietly. "But it's my destiny," she repeated.

Bloody and beaten, Rack sputtered up human blood as he stepped back from the two vampires. "You fools might have made me mortal," he snarled. "But I've still got power you'll never comprehend."

Spike cocked his head. "Really? Cause from where I'm standin', it looks like all you've got is a piss-ugly split lip. Don't you agree Peaches?"

"Oh, piss-ugly, that's for sure," Angel nodded seriously.

Roaring, Rack threw up his hands, sending an invisible power that threw both Angel and Spike up against the wall, leaving them disoriented and dazed. Sitting up, they realized what was going on, and rushed back to fight. Rack picked up a spare rod and sparred with both of them, one on either side. At a feverish pace, the three began to battle with no signs of letting down. Suddenly Rack swung the rod round, as to trip Spike and to let him fall to his back. He threw the rod above his head and was prepared to stake Spike then and there, but Angel screamed out, "Spike!" as he lunged for the warlock's arm. Pushing him off, Rack sent him flying into the air, once more crashing into the wall, sending a heavy bed flying after him. Crushed against the wall, Angel looked on in horror as Rack speared Spike as he tried to roll out of the way. With the rod sticking out of his chest, Spike screamed out in pain.

"Tara!" Willow yelled, trying to shake her unconscious girlfriend. Looking round her nervously, she placed her hand on Tara head and told her telepathically what was going on.

Tara's eyes flashed at the message. Turning once more to Buffy, she tried to grab the dagger from her hands. "Buffy," she insisted urgently. "We have to go, you have to fight him."

Rack continued to hold Buffy's glance. "I can't Tara. You guys can take care of it . . ."

"NO WE CAN'T BUFFY! We need you! Spike needs you!"

"Don't listen to her delusional rants Buffy," Rack snarled, motioning towards the dagger. "She was one of the ones who tore you from heaven. Why believe her?"

"Buffy!" Tara was screaming now to get through to a motionless Buffy. "You've got to listen to me, we have to go. Spike's in trouble."

Buffy turned to Tara. "Spike doesn't need me," she said sharply, caustically. "If he did, he wouldn't be leaving, like every other man in my life."

Tara looked at her agonizingly. "Buffy . . . Spike loves you . . . he'd never leave you . . . he might threaten to, but you know deep in his heart that he could never, ever leave you."

"He would! He's planning to, after this is all over! Face it Tara, I'll never have a normal life, I have to accept fate!"

Tara suddenly had an idea. "Buffy," she tried once more. "If we don't get out of here, Spike won't even have a chance to leave. Right as we speak, Rack is staking him."

Buffy's eyes suddenly widened. She stared at Tara strangely, with clarity now, as if she had fell out of Rack's spell. She turned and stared at Rack who only clenched his teeth threateningly. "Don't listen to her Buffy," he repeated. "They're lies, all of them. You can see through all them, can't you?"

Buffy nodded solemnly. Suddenly, with a spring-like motion, she thrust the dagger into Rack's chest. He gasped at the contact and lurched over as Buffy thrust it back out. "That's right," Buffy whispered quietly as his body dissipated into thin air. "I can." Turning to Tara, she looked her squarely in the eyes. "Bring me back Tara," she said. Tara nodded as she took Buffy's hand in hers.

Buffy whimpered slightly as her eyes parted. She moaned at the raging pain in her head and Angel, who lay near her, crawled over in intense concern. "Buffy?" he asked, fearfully, stroking her bruised forehead.

Buffy still struggled to see past her blinding headache. "S-Spike?" she murmured softly. Angel drew back, confused and hurt at her calling for Spike instead of him. Spike was a few feet away, pulling the rod out of his chest, centimeters away from his heart and grunting in pain as it came out, spurting blood. Seeing her awake, he rushed to her side, covering up his wound.

"Luv? Oh God, are you all right?" Spike hovered over her. His face looked deathly pale and his piercing blue eyes were glazed with trepidation.

"What happened, where's Rack?" Buffy whispered, not moving from where she was still lying.

"H-he's dead pet. I don't know what happened, he just lurched over and died, the bloody pillock." Spike pressed a careful kiss to her forehead, desperately happy that she was fine.

"It's because you killed him Buffy," Tara said, drawing near to the couple. "Inside your head, you won over him. He had that immense power, but you won over him. It's all over."

Buffy choked back an exhaustedly relieved sob. "I-it's over?"

"God, yes baby. And you're fine, you're alright now," Spike said, gathering her in his arms as he tried to soothe her. Buffy nodded and collapsed into his strong arms that immediately warmed her, burying herself into the safety of his chest. Suddenly, she pushed him back and punched him powerfully, square in the nose.

"Bloody hell!" he yelped, taking the hand on his bloody chest wound to his nose. "What the bollocks was that for???"

Buffy sat up, infuriated. "You son-of-a-bitch. You bastard." She yelled. "You were going to leave. . .You were going to leave me . . . " her eyes glazed over and her lip trembled as she broke down. "Don't . . . ever . . . leave me," she sobbed, as she fell back into his arms, her lovely skin getting bloodied by his wounds.

"Never, pet," Spike answered back, tears falling freely from his eyes as well as he gripped her tight. The two of them became lost in each other's arms as they rocked back and forth, oblivious to everyone else. Tara, Willow and Angel looked on in amazement as the two clung to each other tight.