Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, etc. Even the ideas are
probably things I've read and half forgotten. Joss owns Buffy, Xander,
and crew.
Spoilers: Late season 4. If you know who Adam is, that's about all
there's going to be. It's kinna nonspecific.
Summary: Making a deal with the devil, of sorts. The final battle
against Adam, maybe? Aftermath, sort of.
Author's notes: Well, some people actually liked my first stab at one of
these so I'll keep it up for a while (it lets me avoid thinking about
doing stuff I actually need to do, too, which is a plus). Hope this one
doesn't disappoint. Also, this was conceived as a Buffy/Xander fic, and
ends up being that way.
***
"Can you walk?"
"I... no," Buffy said, still half supporting herself with one elbow on
the bloody turf.
"We should go... I will carry you."
"You're hurt... are you sure you can do it?"
"I will do it."
"But can you?" I'd never seen her look at me with such concern in her
eyes. A man could drown in those eyes.
"It doesn't matter. I will do it." Somehow I sounded convincing enough
that she didn't further protest. I grit my teeth as my damaged ribs
lanced bolts of torment through my chest, but didn't give in. Soon, she
was hanging limply against my back, her arms wrapped loosely around my
neck.
A brief wave of vertigo informed me that I might be overstepping the
bounds of human endurance, but I held my position.
As soon as it passed, I lurched into motion, plodding steadily for
cover. We entered the brush line beside the battlefield only seconds
before the roar of a vehicle sounded in the distance.
I picked up my pace as a line of headlights shone behind us, the deep
hum of military engines filling the air. The Initiative had arrived to
pick up the pieces.
I was determined that Buffy, and, to a lesser extent, myself, wouldn't
be collected.
Damn them. Damn them all. If they'd been willing to aid us in our
battle, things wouldn't have happened the way they did.
The forest gave way to a roadway after a few hundred yards, but I
stayed within the tree line. I wasn't having much trouble carrying
Buffy, she seemed so light.
That scared me. I'm no doctor, but I do know a bit about field
medicine from my army days. Well, it was more like a single day, but I
still remember enough to know that she could be in serious trouble.
Slayer or not, I was deathly afraid of what would happen if I didn't
get her to a hospital quickly. I could always have turned around, but I
wasn't willing to risk our lives with those... people.
"Buffy?"
She groaned weakly.
"Buffy, can you still hear me?"
"Xa'der?" Her voice was distant and barely above a whisper.
"You've got to stay awake, Buffy."
There was no response. I ignored the burning agony in my chest and
quickened my pace, making all possible time, no longer trying to stay in
the trees.
Luck smiled upon us that night. Not more than three minutes later, the
road bent and turned to reveal a gas station ahead.
At the sight of salvation, I broke into a lopeing run, as best as I
could manage carrying a wounded slayer and suffering from a few broken
ribs.
Time stretched to infinity as I ran, knowing that speed was of the
essence and then, but finally, I was there.
Carefully, I lowered Buffy to the ground beside the pay phone in the
darkened lot. It was almost three in the morning and the station was
closed.
911.
"Nine one one, what is your emergency?"
"Please... send an ambulance."
"Calm down, sir, what is the problem."
"My friend... she's hurt... please, you've got to help."
"Where are you, sir?"
I gave her the address.
"Please stay on the line, an ambulance has been dispatched."
I dropped the receiver and sank to the ground. I know I had come
across as a bit hysterical, but there was a good reason for that. I
was.
The last thing I remember is pulling Buffy to me and stroking her
matted hair tenderly. Then the pain and torment of running almost a
mile with severe injuries and a heavy load set in and turned out the
lights.
***
Fuzzy and white. The entire world was fuzzy and white.
I groaned and tried to cover my eyes with my arm, but it just proved to
be too much work. I let it sink back the few feet, or was it inches, I
had moved it before aborting the project.
"Doctor, the patient is waking up."
I was at the bottom of a well and there were people at the top talking.
The haze didn't clear after a few moments, and I resigned myself to
floating through it for a while.
It was like being adrift in a warm ocean of light that gently rotated
in some unknown gravity.
Some years later, or was it minutes, I broke the surface of the waves
and the world snapped to attention smartly.
My eyelids fluttered open, blinking away the haze.
White walls. White ceiling. Medicine smell.
Hospital.
"..." It should have been 'Where am I?' but nothing came out of my
mouth.
"Relax, Mr. Harris." Paternal voice.
"Bu..."
A shape leaned over me, blocking out the white ceiling somewhat.
"ffy..."
"Bu... ffy... Buffy?"
I nodded weakly, making the world swim alarmingly.
Voices turned away from me, I didn't understand them.
"The girl who was with you?"
"Y's."
"She is resting comfortably."
I nodded again, allowing the world to twist and spin again.
"Just relax and get some rest. You need your strength."
I didn't reply, but the world tipped sideways and once again I was
unconscious.
***
The sun shone red on the field of battle. Not the deep red of the
setting sun, but a baleful, bloody red.
"Fight" The word came from everywhere and nowhere all at once. A deep
rumble-thunder voice, like the god's.
Legion upon legion of... things... snapped to attention at the
command. As one, they turned and charged their opponent.
I was that opponent.
They looked like nothing so much as eyeless, mouthless children with
great hooked claws on each hand.
I fought them with my blade for an age or three. The ground was
slippery from pools of their blood and still they came on and on,
endlessly.
Finally, the dark song of my sword drowned out the shrill cries of the
dying creatures and not long after, the onslaught stopped.
A hand on my shoulder.
I spun around and stabbed, thinking one of the beasts had flanked me.
I drove the point of my sword home, clean through the poor thing.
I recognized its face, though the lack of eyes and mouth made it look
odd.
"Buffy..."
***
The next time I woke, the world had improved greatly.
There was no haze this time. My eyes popped open suddenly, as if I'd
been having a bad dream and finally discovered the secret to escaping
from its hold.
I could feel my body this time. There was pain there, though greatly
masked by a layer or three of chemical relief.
The room gradually shifted into focus and I saw the same white room as
before. No doctor, no nurse.
But there was a Buffy.
She had apparently been sitting in a chair beside my sickbed for a
while. At some point, she'd put her head down on the bed beside me,
leaning forward in her chair, and fallen asleep.
I sent a message to my arm, and to my surprise, it actually obeyed me
and drifted down to stroke her hair. Soft and clean now, not like it
had been before.
She murmured at my touch and I quickly withdrew my hand before she sat
up.
"You're awake." I love those eyes, I could lose myself in them
forever. Concern was plainly written there, as well as tenderness, and
I drank it all in greedily.
"Yeah."
"I was worried..." Something else was in her eyes, not something I had
seen before.
"Thank you."
` "For being worried about you?"
"No. For being okay. And for being here when I woke up."
Was that a blush I saw? No, I was still tired and quite possibly
imagining the whole conversation. Her eyes had an odd glimmer to them.
"No, thank you... for saving my life."
"Yeah... well... it was my life, too." Why was I so nervous?
"You're still a hero." It was my turn to blush. "I don't think I've
ever really had a hero before."
"Ah..." How do you respond to something like that? "I have."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, when I was a kid, He-Man was my hero." Why did I say that? It
must have been the drugs because I refuse to believe that I'm that
socially inept. Though previous evidence would seem to support either
case.
"Oh, I thought you meant in real life."
"Well... there is someone..."
"Really?"
"Yeah..." I took a breath, those eyes seemed to be pulling me in even
deeper. "You."
"Oh..."
I suddenly became very conscious of the fact that her hand was resting
on top of mine. Warm and soft but hard as steel when she wished, it was
almost as seductive a trap as her wonderful eyes.
Silence ruled for the rest of the night.
probably things I've read and half forgotten. Joss owns Buffy, Xander,
and crew.
Spoilers: Late season 4. If you know who Adam is, that's about all
there's going to be. It's kinna nonspecific.
Summary: Making a deal with the devil, of sorts. The final battle
against Adam, maybe? Aftermath, sort of.
Author's notes: Well, some people actually liked my first stab at one of
these so I'll keep it up for a while (it lets me avoid thinking about
doing stuff I actually need to do, too, which is a plus). Hope this one
doesn't disappoint. Also, this was conceived as a Buffy/Xander fic, and
ends up being that way.
***
"Can you walk?"
"I... no," Buffy said, still half supporting herself with one elbow on
the bloody turf.
"We should go... I will carry you."
"You're hurt... are you sure you can do it?"
"I will do it."
"But can you?" I'd never seen her look at me with such concern in her
eyes. A man could drown in those eyes.
"It doesn't matter. I will do it." Somehow I sounded convincing enough
that she didn't further protest. I grit my teeth as my damaged ribs
lanced bolts of torment through my chest, but didn't give in. Soon, she
was hanging limply against my back, her arms wrapped loosely around my
neck.
A brief wave of vertigo informed me that I might be overstepping the
bounds of human endurance, but I held my position.
As soon as it passed, I lurched into motion, plodding steadily for
cover. We entered the brush line beside the battlefield only seconds
before the roar of a vehicle sounded in the distance.
I picked up my pace as a line of headlights shone behind us, the deep
hum of military engines filling the air. The Initiative had arrived to
pick up the pieces.
I was determined that Buffy, and, to a lesser extent, myself, wouldn't
be collected.
Damn them. Damn them all. If they'd been willing to aid us in our
battle, things wouldn't have happened the way they did.
The forest gave way to a roadway after a few hundred yards, but I
stayed within the tree line. I wasn't having much trouble carrying
Buffy, she seemed so light.
That scared me. I'm no doctor, but I do know a bit about field
medicine from my army days. Well, it was more like a single day, but I
still remember enough to know that she could be in serious trouble.
Slayer or not, I was deathly afraid of what would happen if I didn't
get her to a hospital quickly. I could always have turned around, but I
wasn't willing to risk our lives with those... people.
"Buffy?"
She groaned weakly.
"Buffy, can you still hear me?"
"Xa'der?" Her voice was distant and barely above a whisper.
"You've got to stay awake, Buffy."
There was no response. I ignored the burning agony in my chest and
quickened my pace, making all possible time, no longer trying to stay in
the trees.
Luck smiled upon us that night. Not more than three minutes later, the
road bent and turned to reveal a gas station ahead.
At the sight of salvation, I broke into a lopeing run, as best as I
could manage carrying a wounded slayer and suffering from a few broken
ribs.
Time stretched to infinity as I ran, knowing that speed was of the
essence and then, but finally, I was there.
Carefully, I lowered Buffy to the ground beside the pay phone in the
darkened lot. It was almost three in the morning and the station was
closed.
911.
"Nine one one, what is your emergency?"
"Please... send an ambulance."
"Calm down, sir, what is the problem."
"My friend... she's hurt... please, you've got to help."
"Where are you, sir?"
I gave her the address.
"Please stay on the line, an ambulance has been dispatched."
I dropped the receiver and sank to the ground. I know I had come
across as a bit hysterical, but there was a good reason for that. I
was.
The last thing I remember is pulling Buffy to me and stroking her
matted hair tenderly. Then the pain and torment of running almost a
mile with severe injuries and a heavy load set in and turned out the
lights.
***
Fuzzy and white. The entire world was fuzzy and white.
I groaned and tried to cover my eyes with my arm, but it just proved to
be too much work. I let it sink back the few feet, or was it inches, I
had moved it before aborting the project.
"Doctor, the patient is waking up."
I was at the bottom of a well and there were people at the top talking.
The haze didn't clear after a few moments, and I resigned myself to
floating through it for a while.
It was like being adrift in a warm ocean of light that gently rotated
in some unknown gravity.
Some years later, or was it minutes, I broke the surface of the waves
and the world snapped to attention smartly.
My eyelids fluttered open, blinking away the haze.
White walls. White ceiling. Medicine smell.
Hospital.
"..." It should have been 'Where am I?' but nothing came out of my
mouth.
"Relax, Mr. Harris." Paternal voice.
"Bu..."
A shape leaned over me, blocking out the white ceiling somewhat.
"ffy..."
"Bu... ffy... Buffy?"
I nodded weakly, making the world swim alarmingly.
Voices turned away from me, I didn't understand them.
"The girl who was with you?"
"Y's."
"She is resting comfortably."
I nodded again, allowing the world to twist and spin again.
"Just relax and get some rest. You need your strength."
I didn't reply, but the world tipped sideways and once again I was
unconscious.
***
The sun shone red on the field of battle. Not the deep red of the
setting sun, but a baleful, bloody red.
"Fight" The word came from everywhere and nowhere all at once. A deep
rumble-thunder voice, like the god's.
Legion upon legion of... things... snapped to attention at the
command. As one, they turned and charged their opponent.
I was that opponent.
They looked like nothing so much as eyeless, mouthless children with
great hooked claws on each hand.
I fought them with my blade for an age or three. The ground was
slippery from pools of their blood and still they came on and on,
endlessly.
Finally, the dark song of my sword drowned out the shrill cries of the
dying creatures and not long after, the onslaught stopped.
A hand on my shoulder.
I spun around and stabbed, thinking one of the beasts had flanked me.
I drove the point of my sword home, clean through the poor thing.
I recognized its face, though the lack of eyes and mouth made it look
odd.
"Buffy..."
***
The next time I woke, the world had improved greatly.
There was no haze this time. My eyes popped open suddenly, as if I'd
been having a bad dream and finally discovered the secret to escaping
from its hold.
I could feel my body this time. There was pain there, though greatly
masked by a layer or three of chemical relief.
The room gradually shifted into focus and I saw the same white room as
before. No doctor, no nurse.
But there was a Buffy.
She had apparently been sitting in a chair beside my sickbed for a
while. At some point, she'd put her head down on the bed beside me,
leaning forward in her chair, and fallen asleep.
I sent a message to my arm, and to my surprise, it actually obeyed me
and drifted down to stroke her hair. Soft and clean now, not like it
had been before.
She murmured at my touch and I quickly withdrew my hand before she sat
up.
"You're awake." I love those eyes, I could lose myself in them
forever. Concern was plainly written there, as well as tenderness, and
I drank it all in greedily.
"Yeah."
"I was worried..." Something else was in her eyes, not something I had
seen before.
"Thank you."
` "For being worried about you?"
"No. For being okay. And for being here when I woke up."
Was that a blush I saw? No, I was still tired and quite possibly
imagining the whole conversation. Her eyes had an odd glimmer to them.
"No, thank you... for saving my life."
"Yeah... well... it was my life, too." Why was I so nervous?
"You're still a hero." It was my turn to blush. "I don't think I've
ever really had a hero before."
"Ah..." How do you respond to something like that? "I have."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, when I was a kid, He-Man was my hero." Why did I say that? It
must have been the drugs because I refuse to believe that I'm that
socially inept. Though previous evidence would seem to support either
case.
"Oh, I thought you meant in real life."
"Well... there is someone..."
"Really?"
"Yeah..." I took a breath, those eyes seemed to be pulling me in even
deeper. "You."
"Oh..."
I suddenly became very conscious of the fact that her hand was resting
on top of mine. Warm and soft but hard as steel when she wished, it was
almost as seductive a trap as her wonderful eyes.
Silence ruled for the rest of the night.