DARKEST 4
By Annie
Rated: PG
Disclaimer: Once more with feeling, not mine.
Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net
DARKEST 4
As if the day hadn't been dark enough, now I had to face the night. I rested the small container in a corner of the nightstand drawer and closed it almost reverently, watching it disappear inch by inch as if I thought I would never see it again. As if, maybe, I should never see it again. That kind of thought tore me up quietly inside, so there wouldn't be any more of it.
Of course, I tossed and turned, finding myself several times with my hand reaching out to pull the little drawer open slowly, touch the coolness of the lid to reassure myself it still existed, was still safe. Wasn't a nightmare from which I would awaken all ready to greet a new sunny day.
By the time I heard Dawn's alarm going off down the hall, I was exhausted just from the rumblings in my brain, all the doubts of last night rearing their ugly heads in a huge conspiracy to keep me from sleep. They had succeeded brilliantly.
I left the container in the drawer, where I hoped it would be safe. No idea why it wouldn't be, and the ironic thought had entered my mind a tad giddily that Spike would have liked nothing better than to have the deluxe box seat in one of my bedroom drawers.
I told Dawn my plan over breakfast, and was assured she would do everything she could to help. I would have to think about that a bit, not sure I wanted her anywhere near a ritual. If push came to shove, and I needed her, I would cross that burning bridge when I came to it.
As soon as she was safely off to school, I got dressed and hurried to the Magic Box, anxious to see if Wesley was as good as his word.
Anya looked up brightly as I entered, the little bell tinkling above me (I hate that bell). When she saw it was me she turned down the charm noticeably.
"Oh, it's just you," she complained.
"Good morning to you, too, Anya," I replied brightly, heading directly for the office and her computer.
She sighed. "It's not like you're coming to purchase anything. You're just here to collect your e-mail. Using my ink and paper with no remuneration whatsoever. It's there, all loaded up for you and printed out."
Well, Anya was Anya. I knew she didn't mean it exactly the way she said it, and at the moment I didn't care.
Wes had indeed come through. The spell was there, two pages of instructions and incantations, notations about being so very careful, reminders to call him when it was all over and let him know what had transpired. My hands were shaking, and I had to question myself one last time.
Burn the papers? Forget the spell? Remember Willow?
Remember Spike?
No, I was most definitely going to do this. It wasn't as if I had power like Willow, something to become addicted to; I was just trying to cast one measly spell, first time in my life ever, if you don't count that enjoining spell when we fought Adam.
I turned to see Anya in the doorway. I didn't think she ever actually wandered quite this far away from the cash register.
"Since it's my supplies you are using, I feel I should ask, what's going on? Has anything happened? Is everyone okay? Do you need a vengeance wish?"
"Xander is fine, Anya, in case it's him you're worried about, and the rest of us, too. It's just.I had an accident yesterday.."
I proceeded to explain both the problem and the solution to her.
"Buffy, these kinds of rituals can end badly for humans. I once saw a man try to raise his pet Quahog demon, and it was very messy. I did try to warn them when they were resurrecting you, and you know how that all turned out, you being all grave and hating it here, you never would have boinked Spike if.."
I stopped her with a look.
"Yay or nay on this Anya," I insisted. "I don't have time right now. And as for 'boinking' Spike, I think you're a card-carrying ex-member of that club, too."
She covered a bit of huffiness then, I could tell. "Oh, I never said I wouldn't help," she smiled her hey-I'm-human smile. "Besides, Xander won't like it. I'm in!"
"Thank you. I have a bunch of things to do. Meet me at Spike's crypt tonight. I'll call and let you know when."
Yes, Xander would hate it. He would have to get over it.
I read over the papers as I made my way to Xander's apartment, barely watching where I was walking, making a mental tally of everything I would need to do and get. I would need his help, and others, too, it seemed.
Willow answered the door at Casa Harris and we hugged warmly. We had gotten so close to losing Willow forever, and now that she was truly on the road to recovery, I refused to risk her involvement.
"You want some tea, Buffy? Maybe a pancake or two to go along? I'm late making breakfast today, Xander has the day off and so he slept in."
"Tea is good," I replied. "And I need to talk to Xander, Will. Alone."
I didn't want to hurt her feelings, hated to cause her any kind of pain at all, and I wondered sickly how she had really felt inside when she lost Tara for good. They had loved each other so much, and had both admitted it and acted on it. Unlike other stubborn people who never knew a thing until some stupid accident turned one of them into ashes.
Willow wasn't an idiot, she already sensed that the something I needed Xander for involved magic. We never let her be privilege to any of those conversations. For her own good and the good of others.
She poured the tea and smiled slightly, understanding. "I'll just go and call him. Come and say bye before you leave, okay?"
"Of course I will," I promised, reaching across to squeeze her hand. She looked a bit subdued as she went to get Xander, and my heart went out to her, like it always did when we had to exclude her.
"Buffster," Xander hailed me enthusiastically, heading for the fridge and a huge glass of what looked like fruit punch. "What brings you out so early? Easy night of slayage?"
He turned around then and saw the look on my face.
"Who died?"
"Spike. Spike died," I told him softly, fighting back tears successfully. I would ask him for help but I wouldn't break down in front of him. Not knowing the way he felt about Spike, more so now than ever.
"Spike died again, you mean." He corrected me. "To whom do we owe the thank you card?"
"I did it, Xander." That quiet admission seemed to take the wind out of him for a second."
"Buffy, why now? After all this time? What's the deal here?"
I looked at him firmly. "The deal is, I staked him accidentally. And you are going to help me bring him back on purpose. You, Anya and me. Tonight."
Xander just shook his head. "Let me get this straight now - you want to bring back the guy who tried to rape you on your own bathroom floor? The guy who has killed countless innocent people? The very guy who came to Sunnydale to make you the third notch on his Slayer pelt-count? I don't think so! I, for one, am more than happy to face life without that blond psycho-vamp lurking around every corner of my life.."
I stood up, then, not wanting to waste time arguing. "Xander, I know you just see Spike as a monster, and yeah, okay, he is one, but I don't care. I am not spending the time I need to get supplies together explaining things to you. I'm tired of following rules that won't let me have one single moment of happiness. I need you to help me, and we are doing it tonight. I can't involve Willow, so my options are very limited. This is the way it is. I need white paint. I need five long pieces of good strong chain and five of some kind of anchors that we can drill into cement to hold the ends. I need a wooden box, not very big, maybe crate-size. Get the stuff and meet me at Spike's crypt as soon as you can. I'll round up the five vampires I need as soon as the sun goes down. Are you in or are you out?" I demanded.
Xander raised his hands in surrender. "I'm in. Can't let you raise the demon-thing all alone, I guess. But, Buffy, have you really thought this through? You know how these things can go."
But I was determined. "What's the worst that could happen?" I asked.
I would soon be finding out.
By Annie
Rated: PG
Disclaimer: Once more with feeling, not mine.
Feedback: crehnert@ptd.net
DARKEST 4
As if the day hadn't been dark enough, now I had to face the night. I rested the small container in a corner of the nightstand drawer and closed it almost reverently, watching it disappear inch by inch as if I thought I would never see it again. As if, maybe, I should never see it again. That kind of thought tore me up quietly inside, so there wouldn't be any more of it.
Of course, I tossed and turned, finding myself several times with my hand reaching out to pull the little drawer open slowly, touch the coolness of the lid to reassure myself it still existed, was still safe. Wasn't a nightmare from which I would awaken all ready to greet a new sunny day.
By the time I heard Dawn's alarm going off down the hall, I was exhausted just from the rumblings in my brain, all the doubts of last night rearing their ugly heads in a huge conspiracy to keep me from sleep. They had succeeded brilliantly.
I left the container in the drawer, where I hoped it would be safe. No idea why it wouldn't be, and the ironic thought had entered my mind a tad giddily that Spike would have liked nothing better than to have the deluxe box seat in one of my bedroom drawers.
I told Dawn my plan over breakfast, and was assured she would do everything she could to help. I would have to think about that a bit, not sure I wanted her anywhere near a ritual. If push came to shove, and I needed her, I would cross that burning bridge when I came to it.
As soon as she was safely off to school, I got dressed and hurried to the Magic Box, anxious to see if Wesley was as good as his word.
Anya looked up brightly as I entered, the little bell tinkling above me (I hate that bell). When she saw it was me she turned down the charm noticeably.
"Oh, it's just you," she complained.
"Good morning to you, too, Anya," I replied brightly, heading directly for the office and her computer.
She sighed. "It's not like you're coming to purchase anything. You're just here to collect your e-mail. Using my ink and paper with no remuneration whatsoever. It's there, all loaded up for you and printed out."
Well, Anya was Anya. I knew she didn't mean it exactly the way she said it, and at the moment I didn't care.
Wes had indeed come through. The spell was there, two pages of instructions and incantations, notations about being so very careful, reminders to call him when it was all over and let him know what had transpired. My hands were shaking, and I had to question myself one last time.
Burn the papers? Forget the spell? Remember Willow?
Remember Spike?
No, I was most definitely going to do this. It wasn't as if I had power like Willow, something to become addicted to; I was just trying to cast one measly spell, first time in my life ever, if you don't count that enjoining spell when we fought Adam.
I turned to see Anya in the doorway. I didn't think she ever actually wandered quite this far away from the cash register.
"Since it's my supplies you are using, I feel I should ask, what's going on? Has anything happened? Is everyone okay? Do you need a vengeance wish?"
"Xander is fine, Anya, in case it's him you're worried about, and the rest of us, too. It's just.I had an accident yesterday.."
I proceeded to explain both the problem and the solution to her.
"Buffy, these kinds of rituals can end badly for humans. I once saw a man try to raise his pet Quahog demon, and it was very messy. I did try to warn them when they were resurrecting you, and you know how that all turned out, you being all grave and hating it here, you never would have boinked Spike if.."
I stopped her with a look.
"Yay or nay on this Anya," I insisted. "I don't have time right now. And as for 'boinking' Spike, I think you're a card-carrying ex-member of that club, too."
She covered a bit of huffiness then, I could tell. "Oh, I never said I wouldn't help," she smiled her hey-I'm-human smile. "Besides, Xander won't like it. I'm in!"
"Thank you. I have a bunch of things to do. Meet me at Spike's crypt tonight. I'll call and let you know when."
Yes, Xander would hate it. He would have to get over it.
I read over the papers as I made my way to Xander's apartment, barely watching where I was walking, making a mental tally of everything I would need to do and get. I would need his help, and others, too, it seemed.
Willow answered the door at Casa Harris and we hugged warmly. We had gotten so close to losing Willow forever, and now that she was truly on the road to recovery, I refused to risk her involvement.
"You want some tea, Buffy? Maybe a pancake or two to go along? I'm late making breakfast today, Xander has the day off and so he slept in."
"Tea is good," I replied. "And I need to talk to Xander, Will. Alone."
I didn't want to hurt her feelings, hated to cause her any kind of pain at all, and I wondered sickly how she had really felt inside when she lost Tara for good. They had loved each other so much, and had both admitted it and acted on it. Unlike other stubborn people who never knew a thing until some stupid accident turned one of them into ashes.
Willow wasn't an idiot, she already sensed that the something I needed Xander for involved magic. We never let her be privilege to any of those conversations. For her own good and the good of others.
She poured the tea and smiled slightly, understanding. "I'll just go and call him. Come and say bye before you leave, okay?"
"Of course I will," I promised, reaching across to squeeze her hand. She looked a bit subdued as she went to get Xander, and my heart went out to her, like it always did when we had to exclude her.
"Buffster," Xander hailed me enthusiastically, heading for the fridge and a huge glass of what looked like fruit punch. "What brings you out so early? Easy night of slayage?"
He turned around then and saw the look on my face.
"Who died?"
"Spike. Spike died," I told him softly, fighting back tears successfully. I would ask him for help but I wouldn't break down in front of him. Not knowing the way he felt about Spike, more so now than ever.
"Spike died again, you mean." He corrected me. "To whom do we owe the thank you card?"
"I did it, Xander." That quiet admission seemed to take the wind out of him for a second."
"Buffy, why now? After all this time? What's the deal here?"
I looked at him firmly. "The deal is, I staked him accidentally. And you are going to help me bring him back on purpose. You, Anya and me. Tonight."
Xander just shook his head. "Let me get this straight now - you want to bring back the guy who tried to rape you on your own bathroom floor? The guy who has killed countless innocent people? The very guy who came to Sunnydale to make you the third notch on his Slayer pelt-count? I don't think so! I, for one, am more than happy to face life without that blond psycho-vamp lurking around every corner of my life.."
I stood up, then, not wanting to waste time arguing. "Xander, I know you just see Spike as a monster, and yeah, okay, he is one, but I don't care. I am not spending the time I need to get supplies together explaining things to you. I'm tired of following rules that won't let me have one single moment of happiness. I need you to help me, and we are doing it tonight. I can't involve Willow, so my options are very limited. This is the way it is. I need white paint. I need five long pieces of good strong chain and five of some kind of anchors that we can drill into cement to hold the ends. I need a wooden box, not very big, maybe crate-size. Get the stuff and meet me at Spike's crypt as soon as you can. I'll round up the five vampires I need as soon as the sun goes down. Are you in or are you out?" I demanded.
Xander raised his hands in surrender. "I'm in. Can't let you raise the demon-thing all alone, I guess. But, Buffy, have you really thought this through? You know how these things can go."
But I was determined. "What's the worst that could happen?" I asked.
I would soon be finding out.