Into the Dark

Summary: An AU fic for Villains, what if Warren's axe had actually killed Willow instead of just stunning her

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy or any of the characters or scenarios in this story.

Distribution: Fanfiction.Net,  www.thedarkmoon.homestead.com

AN: The end of this fiction completely changed over to what I had previously written.

**

He stood waiting in the darkness. He leaned, almost mockingly against the camouflage of a tower brick wall. He felt the moonlight fall over him in a non-existent shower, and wished, not for the first time, that he could feel the warmth of the night. He took a slow steady drag of his cigarette before, almost unknowingly, pitching it to the damp earth. With a slight rolling of eyes, he strutted into the Mansion.

For a moment, he almost didn't recognize the short man who stood wielding no other weapon than himself. Even from the back, Spike could see, the kid was too far-gone.

He never understood why he had gone to the jail when he did. Part of him went, because Buffy asked him to protect the whimpering weasels, and a larger part went to… God forbid… avenge the deaths of the witches. Red has always been kind to him, and spunky as hell. Even when he was the big bad of Sunnydale, threatening to kill her, she still put on a brave face. Quite unlike the pollocks in front of him who were reduced to a whimpering mass. He never really knew Tara, she was a quiet broad, too quiet for him. But, in her own silent way she reminded him of the headstrong Joyce Summers, who was the first woman to really understand him.

Raising an eyebrow, he was almost tempted to leave and let the bloody werewolf finish his business. Eye for eye, so to speak. But, the pesky newly acquired soul stopped him. Informing him that something had to be done before the boy went too far into the dark. Like Willow or hell, even Warren.

" My light is gone." The boy whispered. "She was the only thing that held me back from unleashing. From hurting people like you. She was my light, my guide, my hope. You took her away."

"No. No!" Andrew pleaded. " That was Warren, it was all Warren."

The red head growled softly, so softly that Spike even doubt that he had heard it at all. The boy's shadow elongated and a loud guttural groan filled the uneasy silence.

" Time's up." Oz advanced, in a deep inhuman voice. The mixture of wolf and man had made his voice raw and edgy, though it must have been difficult to speak in a semi-wolf form Oz managed it nonetheless.

Andrew, in a bolt of fear, tried to make it past Oz and head for the door of the Mansion, only to be swatted down. He held his bleeding shoulder gingerly, knowing what it meant to be bled by a werewolf and also knowing that it wouldn't matter because he was down anyways. He wished for light saber.

Oz advanced of the two hostages. Their squeals grew louder until Spike knew he had to go in. Being a vampire made sneaking easy, even supernaturals like werewolves had difficult making out a vampire lurking. The loudness of Andrew and Jonathon's prayers and in the insanity of the smell of their fear he became virtually invisible. He roughly grabbed Oz from behind and threw him against the wall. While the boy was stunned from the sudden attack, Spike took out the tranq gun and shot the young werewolf with enough tranquilizers to subdue a runaway elephant.

Spike turned to the last remaining member of the Troika. "What the hell are you waiting for?" The two nodded at him and shakily got to their feet. Just as they walked past him, he grabbed a hold of them and turned the two to face him. " If I ever see your faces in Sunnydale again, I will not hesitate to bite your worthless heads off." He growled, bringing out his vampire visage.

The moment he let them go, the two ran faster than he ever thought a nerd could run.

When he turned back to the werewolf, Oz was already partially transformed and waking up. It seemed he already built up a resistance to tranquilizers.

Spike held the gun steady, normally he would resort to using human machinery to take down a foe, but Buffy had pleaded she wanted him back alive.

Oz glared at him from his seated position. His eyes darting around the room. Gingerly touch his forehead to check out blood. " I need to complete my mission."

" She's gone, Mongrel. No matter how many you kill she won't come back."

The boy struggled to his feet, for a moment or two he held his attention on Spike, but then it slowly once again drifted around the room. " Buffy came back." He said softly, " Tara didn't. I promised I'd protect her."

Suddenly and light flickered in the back of Spike's head, something didn't seem right about the werewolf, the lycanthrope grinned seeing Spike's growing discomfort.

**

The Summer's residence used to be full of life. Throughout the years different people would come in and out of the house, some of them laughing, other's crying a few even swearing revenge. Whichever way it was, there was always some sort of light in the house.

But for the past few years the house had steadily grown quieter. With each loss, the house and it's patron's died a little. Finally, the house had become silent; a morgue. With Tara and Willow's death, few found reason to speak or laugh. Some days the final four would simply sit around the table silently wondering who would be next. Who would be the next to leave the house and never return?

Death had claimed many, too many. There was a time when there was a drive; an ambition to fight it but that too was slowly dying.

Now, another Scooby was in trouble. Far over his head, driven his stoic mind to the edge. Buffy prayed for his safety and his mind, but mostly she prayed for herself.

The silence was shattered by another telephone call. Telephones never seem to carry good news to the Summer's house. All calls lead to ruin.

Mystical energy and ectoplasmic readings were off the charts in Sunnydale.

Someone was back. And seriously pissed off.

**

Oz stood eying up Spike, looking ready to attack any moment. But suddenly his newfound strength passed from him. Oz stood shaking for a moment, looking more lost than before.

" I tried." The boy whispered, falling once again to the floor. He looked at his hands as if her had never seen them before, as if he had forgotten the power they held. " Oh god…"

Spike stood back silently and watched the young werewolf, as he began mutter nonsense under his breath. Often the only words Spike could make out were, " I'm sorry" and "I can't."

Oz's eccentric sentences and occasional sweeps of the room reminded Spike heavily of his summer in the basement. Plagued by guilts of the past and people who were never really there.

Suddenly he understood. A feeling he had felt all along, a prickling at the back of the neck. He understood. Feigning an air of calm Spike lit another cigarette and walked towards Oz. He bent down to look the boy in the eyes, which were wide open and wild.

" Oz." He murmured getting the boy's attention. " Do you see her? Is she here."

" Everywhere." Oz whispered brokenly after a moment's doubt "She won't leave. I promised her…"

" Oz, Buffy can bring you back. She can help you. What you're seeing isn't real."

" I promised." Oz repeated dully, his eyes dimmed. A white pallor began to show on his face and he breathed shallowly, his eyes darting around the room. " I promised."

Unnerved by Oz's appearance, Spike stood back. He watched in shock as the boy's hue went from white, to a sickly green and finally to a dull grey.

Spike cigarette fell unnoticed out of his mouth, as he grimly pulled a cellphone out of his trench coat pocket and speed dialed Buffy. 

Death had claimed another member.

Spike felt for the loss of the fellow Scooby. He understood the boy's search for light. He only wished that Oz had realized that the light had already died out.

That all he was searching for was the darkness left behind.

**

Belief is such an empty word. So fake, so…pathetic. When you're young you believe in whatever your parents tell you… The Easter Bunny, The tooth fairy. Whatever.

When you get older you believe that love will survive. That it's the one thing that can't be broken down or bought out.

How stupid I was to believe in it.

Belief is nothing more than a handkerchief blinding your eyes with a passionate red. Belief that… hey, don't worry! He'll come back to you… He loves you remember. He'll be back.

Sure, he came back. A few months too late.

Belief that love can defeat even death, that it can some how transcend everything. That because you've been a good little girl for most of your life the Powers That be will bring her back.

See, pathetic. I am alone. I am unloved. All because I believed in a pathetic thing called love.

But now I'm stronger. In every sense imaginable. I believe in a new mistress now.

Revenge.

Who needs a body? I have a mind. A brilliant one. Capable of anything imaginable.

All's Fair in Love and War, remember?

Finis

AN:

So in the end Willow gets her revenge. Maybe in some perverse way this is a happy ending. Willow, Oz and Tara reunited at last….

Well not so much as Willow's still floating around out there.