Part Eight
+Apparition+
The City was dark and eerily silent as Giles drove into the city limits. Skyscrapers sparkled and disappeared into the night clouds. The roads were fairly clear and it was an easy ride the whole way. Many people were leaving Los Angeles, as opposed to entering it. Giles faintly wondered if regular people had some sort of instinct about the demonic sort of life. He wondered if common sense played a part in it. Did people leave because they could feel the shirt in the balance? Because they could feel the demonic shift rising?
His thoughts were interrupted by Willow shifting in the seat beside him. She murmured something softly and leaned against the window, still sleeping restlessly. The children had fallen asleep shortly after being on the road. Giles knew that they had had a tough night. He was grateful that they were getting rest while they could. He had a feeling that in the time coming, rest wouldn't be anything more than a bare necessity, one they may not have time for.
Giles slowed to a stop and peered at the giant hotel looming before him. The windows were lighted and he could see shadows of people behind sheer curtains. He sighed as he accelerated again and pulled into the long, curving driveway. He mindlessly admired the night blooming jasmine and the gardens on roses stretching the grounds. It was a lovely site. A perfect place for rest and rehabilitation.
Buffy would love it here…
Giles stopped the car by the front doors and parked the car. He gently nudged Willow, rousing her awake.
"Wha-?" She mumbled, jerking awake.
"We're here. Please wake the others." Giles said softly.
He smiled tightly, his cheeks stretching. Giles grabbed the keys and got out of the car. He strode toward the font door of the hotel and stopped for a moment.
'This is her last hope', He thought to himself, 'If Angel cannot help her, no one can…'
"Hurry along." He called to the 'children'.
Anya was leaning on Xander, exhausted and yawning. Willow's face was pale and her eyes were dark. Xander looked drawn and scared. Giles held the door open for them and then walked in himself.
The lobby was busy, very busy. He could see Angel in his office. Cordelia was sitting close to Wesley. There were some very…strange looking people there. They looked familiar to Giles, but at the moment, he couldn't care less.
Giles cleared his throat rather loudly, to get their attention. He saw Cordelia's head shoot up as she jumped. Wesley looked at them, taking off his glasses.
"Rupert…" He said, walking over to greet the older man.
"Wesley." Giles nodded in return.
Angel had seen them also, and was walking to meet them, his strides long. Giles noticed his eyes were slightly puffy. He looked as if he had been through hell and back—again.
"Giles. How are you?" Angel asked, his brown eyes speaking volumes.
"I have been better, but I suppose we all have." Giles answered, shaking the younger—appearance wise—man's hand.
"If I may, what are you four doing here?" Wesley asked, sending a small smile to the younger, haggard looking three.
"Isn't it obvious?" Anya spoke up in tight pain. "Buffy's lost it. Everybody is in such a frenzy because we have to help her and no one knows how. Not even you." She said to Angel.
Angel blanched slightly. His eyes went to the floor, his hands clenching tightly.
"Anya, stop." Xander said quietly.
"I didn't mean anything by it." Anya said. "I'm just telling the truth. How do you stop an emotionally broken Slayer? Without killing her, without hurting anyone else? Especially when she's hurting like this. God, I can feel it!" Anya's voice broke into an angry moan.
"What do you mean?" Wesley asked, jumping in on her.
"I'm a Vengeance demon. I feel the pain of women everywhere. But hers…" Anya eyes went blurry and she seemed to be in a trace. "Her pain is like nothing I have ever felt before. It cries out for revenge, but she's scared to face him… She's terrified…" Anya trailed off.
"She wants to kill him. She wants him to hurt like she hurts, God, she's going to make the world hurt like she does…" Cordelia finished where Anya had left off.
"Oh, please cut the melodramatics." A sardonic voice cut in.
Everyone looked at a dashing woman dressed in red silk with raven curls hanging, framing her milky white face.
"Vara." Giles said disbelievingly.
She turned his way and squinted, then gasped softly.
"Ripper?" She asked in shock, then laughed. "Good God, I'd have thought you dead by now."
"What the in the bloody hell are you doing here?" Giles demanded in his quiet, deadly manner.
Instantly, everyone in the room could feel the heat of old tension flame up between the two. They had some sort of past, an old, complicated one.
""Why, my dear, I'm trying to keep your Slayer from disrupting the balance." Vara sneered, her blood red slips twisting.
"Damn your valued balance, Vara. You know you care nothing for that." Giles scoffed.
Vara laughed in her sultry voice. "Rupert, you are becoming very paranoid and delusional in your old age, dear. It must take a lot of energy to play the caring watcher, the father figure. Don't you ever get sick and tired of playing the role you so hated once upon a time?" Vara asked, close to him now.
"Stop!" Angel barked, his patience wearing thin. "Look, I don't care why or how you two know each other. Deal with your issues later." He turned to Willow. "What's happened?"
"What hasn't?" Willow asked, her voice thick.
Angel silently guided them away from the door and to the tacky red couches.
"Dawn's dead. She was killed by Warren, he and two of his friends were wannabe bad guys. Nerds, really. Building robots and cameras and things like that. They weren't really that much of a big deal. We didn't think they were all that dangerous…" Willow trailed off. "I don't know how it all happened. We were at the fair…and Buffy called us. She was rambling, crying one moment, screaming the next."
//"The floor was cold and so is Dawn".//
Willow's eyes closed tightly. "She said something about a gun, something about the floor, and Dawn being cold. She said Dawn was sick. That I needed to tuck her in."
Cordelia rocked back and forth, her eyes closed.
"Where is she?" Angel asked, his voice tight.
"Presumably, on her way here." Giles answered.
Angel nodded once. "How long?"
"Give her 24 hours." Xander murmured. "If even that."
*
Her eyes snapped open and her heart pounded loudly in her ears. For a moment, she didn't know where she was. The walls were dark red, almost a brown color. She knew this color, for she had seen it hundreds of time, staining clothes, skin, pavements, and countless other things.
It was blood.
The smell of rotting flesh and dried blood filled the air, coating her throat and making her gag. She stood up fast, gasping at the sharp pain that stung her lower abdomen. She looked down, somewhat surprised to see a long slash in her shirt.
"What the hell did you do?" A voice mixed with awe and horror asked.
She turned dazedly and stiffened. It was Spike.
"Go away." She croaked, cowering like a beat dog.
"My God." He laughed, his ice eyes gleaming. "You slaughtered them!"
She looked up at him, confused. She had killed him. She remembered killing him. His blood was covering her. His brains and flesh was drying on the walls. She had killed him!...didn't she?
"I killed you…" She murmured slowly.
Spike snorted. "Not today."
"I did…" She insisted. "I cut you, I hurt you…!" She cried out, her voice cracking.
"You always hurt me, luv. But, not anymore. No, 'cause, I got you. I got you right where I want you." Spike said slowly, sauntering towards her.
Buffy cowered into the corner, her eyes shutting. She had killed she knew she did. She remembered him screaming at her.
//"Buffy, stop it, please, stop it…!"//
He had screamed, cried, and begged her to stop. He had cowered the way she was cowering now, trying to get away from her unyielding hands, from the slice of the knife.
He stepped right in front of her, bending to roughly lift her to her feet. Still caught up in her mind, she did nothing. Her eyes were half lidded and her whole face was slack. Spike didn't like this. He wanted her whole attention. He slapped her cheeks with pleasure, making her wince as he lifted his hand again.
"Better." He murmured, his lips twisted.
"N-no…" She whimpered, shutting her eyes and making her body go limp.
She seemed to squirm out of his hold, falling to the ground with a dull thud. She scrambled out of his reach and stood up, her back to the door, facing him.
"You can't hurt me." She whispered firmly. "You can't hurt me." She said haltingly. "Not anymore." She whispered, turning and fleeing out of the bloodied room.
Spike just stood there, somewhat dazed. He looked around the room at the mayhem and death.
She did this.
Buffy did this.
*
Dawn stood on nothing, looked at nothing, and was surrounded by nothing. She didn't know what was going on, she was cold, confused, and extremely tired.
She was alone here. The voice, whoever it had been, had left her. She still couldn't remember what had happened. She wasn't sure if she wanted to remember.
Her head felt heavy, swollen even. There was a dull pain in her chest, a throbbing ache that reminded her of…something.
Something she couldn't remember.
Dawn sighed and wrapped her arms around herself. She felt unbearably lonely.
And she was scared, scared of this empty, lonely place.
"I want to go home." She whispered to herself, hugging her knees to her chest.
She closed her eyes and blocked everything out. She didn't want to be here, in this place on solitude. Dawn craved for warmth, for laughter, for something besides what was here. She wanted to be in the light, having the war, rays of the sun shine down upon her.
"All in good time, darling." The voice from earlier soothed.
"You're back?" Dawn asked, her voice small.
"Yes, I am. I'm sorry I had to leave." The voice apologized.
"It's ok."
Dawn opened her eyes and gasped in quiet shock. Gone was the gray mass of nothing; gone was the hard, cold ground. In its place, there were fields of crisp green grass and color flowers, all radiating in the luminosity of the yellow sun.
"Where are we?" Dawn asked, her hand sweeping across the grass that surrounded her.
"I've taken us to a higher place. Somewhere where you can be comfortable and rest." The voice said.
Dawn snorted, not looking up. "I'm dead. Why do I need rest?"
"Haven't you learned anything in your past life? Yes, the deceased may be dead, but we all need rest." The voice said.
Dawn looked up and saw the owner of the voice. She was not surprised for deep inside, she had always expected to see her again.
"Jenny."
Even in death, Jenny Calendar looked luminous. Her hair was dark and short, curling under just above her shoulders. Her skin was pale, but in the sun glowed like marble. Her eyes were sparkling, and soft, reassuring Dawn.
"It's nice to see you again, sweetheart." Jenny smiled down at the girl. "I'm sorry that it's under suck dark circumstances."
"Giles still loves you." Dawn blurted out, not knowing what else to say.
Jenny smiled softened more. "I wish he wouldn't. It's been years since I died. He needs someone, someone alive."
"Do you blame Angel?" Dawn asked softly.
Jenny shook her head. "I knew it was coming. My Elders had foreseen it. But, it wasn't Angel, not really. I just wish I could have stopped t all from happening. I wish I cold have stopped all the pain that ensued."
"Buffy ran away. I remember being so scared for her." Dawn murmured.
"She was fine." Jenny countered. "I watched out for her."
"Is she ok now?" Dawn asked anxiously.
"No. She is nowhere near 'ok'. She needs our help."
//"Buffy!" Dawn yelled, snapping her fingers in front of her sisters face.
Buffy jumped, her eyes wide. "What…?" She asked.
"What's wrong with you?" Dawn asks, all anger gone.//
Buffy's face flashes in front of Dawn's eyes. Matted hair, wide eyes, and purple bruises on her pale face.
"What happened to her?" Dawn asked, her voice wavering.
"She was raped."
*
She had never been a very good driver.
The funny thing was, that driving had scared her. She was a Vampire Slayer and driving scared her. When she fought, she was able to control the situation. She could fight or back away. But here, driving on the highway, she wasn't in control. Cars were speeding past her, cutting across all the lanes their horns honking.
Tears streamed down her face and she didn't know why. Her knuckles were white from clutching the wheel of the stolen car. She was bleeding in various places; gashes on her face, deep cuts in her arm, and raw wounds all over. Her shirt was soaked with blood; her own and whoever had gotten in her way. Her eyes burned and blurred as she tried to pay attention to the road. She felt numb.
She was heading to LA, running away from Sunnydale.
Buffy knew he was following her. He would haunt and hunt her forever. She couldn't fight him she wasn't strong enough. He had the power to hurt her.
Spike had the power to break her.
Los Angeles Exit – 2 Miles
Almost there…