The Game by SLynn
Chapter 9: The Mistake
Buffy had hardly believed it when she saw Xander react to her touch. At first she thought she had imagined it. Had just wanted to see him react so badly that she tricked herself into believing it. But then she looked closer. His eyes, she could see his eyes fluttering behind his eyelids.
"Xander," she whispered excitedly, "it's me Xander. Wake up, please. I'm going to get you out of here."
Nothing.
His breathing was heavier and his eyes were shut tightly, to tightly for him to just be sleeping.
'He must think I'm her,' Buffy thought.
She grabbed hold of his shoulder and began to shake him as lightly as she could. She knew he must be in pain and she didn't want to add to it. But, she also wanted to get him out of here. Quickly.
"Xander," she pleaded, "wake up. It's me, Buffy, I swear it. Please, just look at me."
Without warning, he sat up part ways, quickly. Buffy, caught off guard fell back onto her hands.
"Just kill me already," Xander practically screamed at her, pausing between every other word, gasping for air, "just get it over. You've won, alright. You've won."
Buffy, who had been holding it all in as much as she could, couldn't do it anymore. She wanted to reach out to him. To hold him and tell him it would be alright, that she would make it alright. But she couldn't do it. Looking at him, cowering against the wall bruised and beaten, she didn't know if it ever would be alright again for either of them.
"Xander…" her voice was little more then a whisper, "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."
She must have gotten through. Part of him must have recognized her, because before she knew it she heard him say her name.
And then, they were both talking at once, neither one listening to the other. Both Xander and Buffy had tears in their eyes as they each laid claim to who was the most at fault for the situation.
"Isn't this sweet," Constance said from the door way, startling Buffy, "it's almost like a family reunion. Wish I'd brought my camera."
Buffy was on her feet in a flash, facing the woman.
"Xander," she said, her voice full of venom and her eyes still locked on Constance, "just stay there. I'll take care of her."
Constance laughed.
"I guess he hasn't told you yet," she smiled, stepping further into the room, "Go ahead, tell her Xander."
Buffy stole a quick look back at him. He sat there silent. His eyes were fixed on Constance and he looked confused.
"That's right," she continued, "silly me, he can't hear. See, Xander here decided he'd had enough of my talking and I decided to oblige him of a secret wish. Now he doesn't have to listen to me go on and on about the many different ways I'll kill you both."
Buffy looked back at Xander again, longer this time.
Xander, not really reading lips, more like body language, knew what was happening. He turned his eyes to Buffy and held her gaze for a minute, confirming it to her, before looking down briefly and then back to Constance.
"That's just one more reason for me to kill you," Buffy said, angrier then she'd ever felt before, "not that I needed another one."
"Kill me? You're delusional. You're going to kill me. You'll never even lay a hand on me."
Buffy had had enough. She took a few strides forward, cutting the distance between the two in half.
"Now let's see who's being delusional," Buffy said preparing herself for the fight.
She never got the chance. In a half a second, Buffy was thrown to the wall. Constance hadn't moved. She didn't need to. Now it began to dawn on Buffy just how much trouble she and Xander might really be in.
"Don't," Constance said, as Buffy began to stand up, "really slayer, just stay down. It's pathetic."
Xander, now directly behind Constance began to stand up. More accurately, he began to try and stand up.
Constance wheeled around to him.
"Didn't I tell you lay there when I left," she said, in a voice half mocking, half serious, "Really Xander, are you really that thick headed?"
She clutched him by his throat and pulled him up the remainder of the way till he was standing on his own two feet.
Turning her head back towards Buffy, she smiled. Buffy was on her feet again.
"Sit down," she commanded, "or you can watch me crush his throat if you'd like."
"You can't do that," Buffy said, holding her ground, "it's not in your rules. He lives till sunrise. I've got till sunrise. And that's at least two hours from now."
"See, that's where you're wrong."
Constance casually released Xander from her grip and walked towards Buffy. Xander, staggered back a few steps, but remained standing.
"He lives till sunrise, but I never said anything about you doing the same."
Constance extended her arm out towards Buffy and light, bright and furious, filled the room in a flash. The bolt lifted Buffy up off her feet and back into the wall where she sunk to the floor, this time unconscious.
"Stop it," Xander said, his voice still course.
"Are you ready?" Constance asked, turning back to him.
Knowing, without hearing it, what Constance was getting at, he nodded his head.
"Yes," he said, looking over at Buffy, "just don't hurt her any more."
"Alright," she smiled and walked over to him, "I agree."
Buffy shook her head and began to open her eyes. Everything was blurry for a moment and then her head began to clear.
At first she didn't understand what was happening. She saw Constance holding Xander's head between her hands. And then there was light. A brilliant blue light that was blurring the space between them. Suddenly, Buffy knew.
"No!" she screamed, jumping to her feet, "Xander, no! Don't, please don't!"
She ran, fast as she could, towards them, the light was getting brighter and nearer to white. About a half a foot from them, she felt the energy, pure energy, push her backwards like an invisible barrier.
She was unaware that she was still screaming at them. Frantically calling out to them, to him, trying anything to make it stop.
Buffy fell to her knees, shaking and crying. After the light reached a brilliance to intense to look at, it dimmed out entirely. Constance let go of him and Xander slumped to the floor.
Crying and unable to take her eyes from him, Buffy wasn't aware that Constance now loomed over her.
"Don't cry slayer. He gave his life for you. Most people wouldn't do half so much."
Buffy turned her eyes up to the woman. Slowly she stood, calmer now, never breaking away from her eyes. Before Constance could blink, Buffy backhanded her hard, clean across the face. Stunned, Constance fell back a step.
"Now, now," she laughed, wiping blood from her lip, "don't get violent. He made his own choice. Besides, I'm not going to fight you Buffy. Part of the arrangement. I knew what it would take. Knew how to get it. Didn't take much either, he must have really loved you, all I had to do was knock you around…"
She didn't get a chance to continue, Buffy was at her, full force. Constance, still laughing, just blocked the blows she now began to anticipate.
"What's really eating you slayer; feeling guilty? Didn't know how much he cared? It's really very sad. Terrible, finding out too late. Or did you? You had to have known. I mean, I watched you all for what, a few months now, and I knew he loved you. Loved you so much he'd be willing to die for you."
"Shut up and just fight back," Buffy yelled at her, frustrated.
"Don't worry though; all of his suffering is over now. He's at peace. Want to see?"
Constance quickly gripped Buffy by the wrists and pulled her closer. Buffy could feel it, nearly see it all before her eyes. It was darkness, cold and intrusive. And pain. Painful memories invaded her head, memories she knew were Xander's. The little insults aimed towards him by all of his "friends" she'd never known he'd felt so deep. His secrets about the family he never discussed. Guilt, intense and remorseful, for betraying Cordellia, for hurting Willow and for not being enough for Anya. And underneath all of that, an undying love for Buffy, and the feeling of hopelessness that it caused.
Constance shoved Buffy to the floor.
"Now you know," was all she said.
Buffy sat there, not knowing what to do. Not sure she could get up. She still felt his memories in her head. It was almost like he was with her.
"So," Constance said, like she was making conversation, "I'm going to go kill your friends now. I can't hurt you, but their still up for grabs. You have a good night now. Oh wait, it's nearly morning. A good morning then."
She started to walk out of the door and stopped suddenly, turning back around.
"No," she whispered.
Buffy, startled, turned around to look at her.
"No," Constance said, louder this time.
Buffy began to back up towards the wall. She could see a light, yellow light, beginning to emit from Constance.
"No!" Constance yelled, this time doubling over, as if in pain.
To Buffy, it looked as if she were beginning to split into two distinct pieces. She could now see Constance was separate from the yellow light, and the yellow light was beginning to take on its own shape.
Slowly, Buffy could see face of a man begin to emerge. But what was better then that, with all of the light filling the room, she saw Xander beginning to move.
Constance had herself, fallen to the floor, and now the three of them, Buffy, Constance and Xander, all stared up at the man who could only be Zothos. He had to be nearly seven feet tall, and looked ancient. Yet his face didn't appear demonic, he just looked wise.
"You've broken the rules," his voice boomed down at Constance.
"No I haven't. I played by them. You broke the rules. You're the one who said he'd never be hurt. All of this lies with you. I've done nothing wrong!"
"Silence," he commanded. She obeyed.
"You've broken the rules. This one," he said, indicating Xander, "asked only that you not hurt the girl. But you did. You did, even after he gave you his life. The game is done. You must now forfeit."
"I didn't hurt her," she bellowed, sounding like a child, "I never laid a hand on her. She attacked me!"
Constance was nearly hysterical. Buffy and Xander remained quiet. Neither of them had moved an inch from the spots they had started from.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Zothos said in a fashion similar to what Constance had once done, "he never said physically hurt her, he just said hurt. I thought you'd have learned by now. You hurt her. You've lost."
Constance stared up at him, disbelieving. Then, she looked struck, hurt even. She brought up her hand to her face, and that's when Buffy noticed. She was aging. Constance was aging, rapidly, before them all.
"What's happening?" she asked, panicked, "What's happening to me?"
"You're dying," Zothos said, his voice flat, "You're not immortal Constance and you've lived a long time. Your body is just catching up to you is all."
Constance, her body now wrinkled and shrunken, began wailing as she continued to wither.
"This isn't over," she screamed, her voice not much more then a shriek.
Buffy turned towards Xander. He hadn't taken his eyes off of Constance. He just sat there, transfixed.
Constance continued to wail for a moment or two longer, and then could not. She was soon nothing more then a skeleton and then no more then dust.
When she was gone, completely gone, Xander turned towards Buffy. Their eyes locked and both of them began to get up to go to each other; then they remembered they weren't alone.
"Sit still," Zothos' voiced boomed.
Neither moved.