Title: Return
Author: Ivytree
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, UPN, Mutant Enemy, etc. Well, almost all.
Feedback: Please!
Summary: The Spike Show. An alternative ending for season 6. Souled-up (really souled-up) Spike and the Scoobies battle to keep the Hellmouth closed.
----------------------------------------------------
RETURN
Part 34. Dark Valley
Spike leaped into the fissure; the crack in the earth was not simply a hole, but instead a huge, ragged gap that led to a warren of tunnels, apparently hacked or bored upwards from below. He landed heavily on a ledge, and with his acute demonic vision saw through the murk that there were many ledges and outcroppings studding the sides; the opening ran along about fifty feet and ended in a rough, sloping floor leading further downwards. Flames inconveniently shot from cracks in the walls and floor at unpredictable intervals; well, the fun just keeps on coming, he thought.
There were no signs of the beasts that took Willow, or any other animate being, and he decided his first task was to reach floor level. The earthen walls shuddered as he clambered over the edge of the projection, dangled for a moment, and dropped to another shelf about fifteen feet down, prudently keeping a firm grip on the axe he'd taken from Xander. Great boomings and rumblings still sounded from even lower levels; it was very hot, very noisy, and malodorous in the cavern, and as he descended, he could see a reddish glow from the far end.
He'd just hit the floor when he heard an ominous leathery rustling. He crouched, scanning the area for cover, and then he saw it, a black, bat-winged creature, large as a man, with a long, snaky neck, flapping straight towards him, inky jaws agape.
Bugger; well, at least he had a weapon. He took a firm two-handed grip on the axe, and leapt towards the beast on an intercept trajectory, swinging the blade high. The creature saw him but was unable to reverse itself, and his first blow hit it where the right wing joined the torso. It squawked loudly and whirled, snapping at him, whereupon he aimed another powerful blow at the neck, and then just kept hacking until it was dead. Not, evidently, the brightest brute in the world - or out of it. As the thing fell limply to the ground, smoke rose from its body, and Spike cautiously backed away, wiping splatters of black blood from his face.
But for the subterranean groaning and occasional spurts of flame, and now the crackling of the creature's suddenly blazing corpse, the cavern was eerily quiet. Spike was puzzled, and worried. He didn't see any openings large enough for the great beasts and their prize, except, perhaps, for one high-roofed tunnel where a weird reddish light pulsed. Was there just one dimensional gate leading to Hell - or one of zillions of hells - or were there several? Could the portals be disguised? If Willow had been carried off through an invisible gate, how could he find her?
Suddenly something caught his ear - a whooshing noise, like the sound of those leathery wings multiplied. It was either a larger beast or many smaller ones, and either way it was something to avoid. The sound came from one of the tunnels, or possibly more than one. A swift glance around showed several massive stones big enough to duck behind, one of them usefully situated in front of a sort of hollow - better for fighting off attackers if he were detected. He darted across the cavern and vaulted over the boulder into the recess.
As he landed, something moved in the darkness, and he spun with a snarl, axe aloft.
"Hey, Spike!" Willow said, with a pretty fair assumption of perkiness, under the circumstances, "What's new?"
She was squeezed as far back into the niche as possible, muddy, battered and rather singed in spots, but otherwise unharmed.
Spike dropped down beside her, momentarily stupefied. Then he seized her in a frantic hug, ignoring her little "eep!" of alarm; after that he took her by the shoulders and shook her 'til her teeth rattled.
"Are you INSANE, girl?" he hissed, keeping his voice low to avoid alerting any approaching monsters. "What the HELL d'you think you're doing?"
As she opened her mouth to reply, the whooshing noise suddenly became a roar; Spike pushed Willow to the ground and threw himself over her, protecting her head with his arms, as a flight of about a dozen winged whatever-they-weres flapped through the cavern and disappeared down another tunnel.
After a few moments silence, he sat up and pulled her up, too, awkwardly brushing dirt from her clothes.
"Damn it, Willow, you were safe!" he said angrily, "Why did you leave the house? Why did you come here?"
"I thought of a way to help! I had to tell you!" Somehow, she managed to wail sotto voce. "And something - something made me come." She looked up at him with fear in her wide green eyes - green, not black - and tears streaking her cheeks, and he realized he was still vamped-out. He shook himself back to human face again apologetically.
"Look, Red, we've got to get you out of here; they're looking for you by now. Might as well have a big target painted on your back. How'd you get away, anyway?"
"Well, I didn't exactly get away; I sort of fell off. Triumph of the clumsy. They were heading down there -" she pointed towards the opening where ruddy light glowed; "and I fell and rolled down a slope and found this little hidey place. I'm not sure they even noticed; they're not - not aware like we are. I'm not sure they're even alive. They're like extra creepy robots, only not."
Spike calmed down a bit. This could have been so much worse. He still wondered where the beasts had actually gone, but that they weren't HERE could only be a good thing. He was fairly certain an attack of some kind was being prepared, but he'd have to deal with that when the time came. Now if he could get Willow back before the hell-dwellers detected her presence - hmmm. There might be a way. If he could grab a some time before any beasties arrived...
"Look, Red, sit tight a minute; I'll try and put 'em off your trail," he said, handing her the axe, which she clutched to her chest. "Take this - be right back." He swung himself over their protective boulder again, and dashed down one of the tunnels out of sight.
Willow huddled behind the big rock and waited, her fingers locked painfully around the axe he'd given her, just barely restraining herself from begging him not to leave her alone. She'd never been happier to see anyone in her life than she was to see Spike coming for her. Thank you, Buffy, for being such a potent souled-up vamp magnet, she thought gratefully; I'm sorry I said all those things when I was, like, evil.
She expected to be terrified beyond all power of rational thought by this point, but actually her mind was quite clear. Even after her long experience with demons, all her years of fighting evil, and being literally infected by evil, the touch of that fiend's hands inexorably gripping her arms was the most frightening thing that had ever happened to her. Those hands were hot, dry, and utterly inhuman; that face was not only unfeeling but without even a glint of understanding. At least vampires and demons - the ones she'd met, anyway - had comprehensible motives. With these hell-beings, there was no distinct person there at all that she could see, and that truly scared her.
It was true - she had thought of an idea she needed to tell Spike. It was also true that her idea was partly an excuse; she was drawn to the Hellmouth. The throb of raw power there called to her, and she realized that she was still poisoned - that was the only word - by the taint of the dark magics she had toyed with so heedlessly. But when that evil being seized her, and her feet left the ground, and she felt herself being pulled first upwards, then stomach-churningly downwards to a demonic nether-world, things suddenly shifted in her mind from chaos to absolute clarity. First, she definitely did not want to die. Second, she didn't want to serve in some evil overlord's horde, magical power or no magical power. No power was worth surrendering her freedom, her individuality, her actual personhood for. She didn't want to be one of those anonymous corrupt creatures obeying a malignant master. She'd far, far rather be a nerd again, powerless and negligible, but at least herself.
She heard footsteps and hoped desperately it was Spike. Taking a firmer grip on the axe, she raised it slightly, getting the balance of the weapon; at least she'd go down fighting. She peered over the rim of the boulder, her face full of resolve.
TBC
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Then came a conquering earth-thunder, and rumbled
That fierce complain to silence: while I stumbled
Down a precipitous path, as if impell'd.
I came to a dark valley.-Groanings swell'd
Poisonous about my ears, and louder grew,
The nearer I approach'd a flame's gaunt blue,
That glar'd before me through a thorny brake.
This fire, like the eye of gordian snake,
Bewitch'd me towards; and I soon was near
A sight too fearful for the feel of fear..."
John Keats, Endymion
Author: Ivytree
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, UPN, Mutant Enemy, etc. Well, almost all.
Feedback: Please!
Summary: The Spike Show. An alternative ending for season 6. Souled-up (really souled-up) Spike and the Scoobies battle to keep the Hellmouth closed.
----------------------------------------------------
RETURN
Part 34. Dark Valley
Spike leaped into the fissure; the crack in the earth was not simply a hole, but instead a huge, ragged gap that led to a warren of tunnels, apparently hacked or bored upwards from below. He landed heavily on a ledge, and with his acute demonic vision saw through the murk that there were many ledges and outcroppings studding the sides; the opening ran along about fifty feet and ended in a rough, sloping floor leading further downwards. Flames inconveniently shot from cracks in the walls and floor at unpredictable intervals; well, the fun just keeps on coming, he thought.
There were no signs of the beasts that took Willow, or any other animate being, and he decided his first task was to reach floor level. The earthen walls shuddered as he clambered over the edge of the projection, dangled for a moment, and dropped to another shelf about fifteen feet down, prudently keeping a firm grip on the axe he'd taken from Xander. Great boomings and rumblings still sounded from even lower levels; it was very hot, very noisy, and malodorous in the cavern, and as he descended, he could see a reddish glow from the far end.
He'd just hit the floor when he heard an ominous leathery rustling. He crouched, scanning the area for cover, and then he saw it, a black, bat-winged creature, large as a man, with a long, snaky neck, flapping straight towards him, inky jaws agape.
Bugger; well, at least he had a weapon. He took a firm two-handed grip on the axe, and leapt towards the beast on an intercept trajectory, swinging the blade high. The creature saw him but was unable to reverse itself, and his first blow hit it where the right wing joined the torso. It squawked loudly and whirled, snapping at him, whereupon he aimed another powerful blow at the neck, and then just kept hacking until it was dead. Not, evidently, the brightest brute in the world - or out of it. As the thing fell limply to the ground, smoke rose from its body, and Spike cautiously backed away, wiping splatters of black blood from his face.
But for the subterranean groaning and occasional spurts of flame, and now the crackling of the creature's suddenly blazing corpse, the cavern was eerily quiet. Spike was puzzled, and worried. He didn't see any openings large enough for the great beasts and their prize, except, perhaps, for one high-roofed tunnel where a weird reddish light pulsed. Was there just one dimensional gate leading to Hell - or one of zillions of hells - or were there several? Could the portals be disguised? If Willow had been carried off through an invisible gate, how could he find her?
Suddenly something caught his ear - a whooshing noise, like the sound of those leathery wings multiplied. It was either a larger beast or many smaller ones, and either way it was something to avoid. The sound came from one of the tunnels, or possibly more than one. A swift glance around showed several massive stones big enough to duck behind, one of them usefully situated in front of a sort of hollow - better for fighting off attackers if he were detected. He darted across the cavern and vaulted over the boulder into the recess.
As he landed, something moved in the darkness, and he spun with a snarl, axe aloft.
"Hey, Spike!" Willow said, with a pretty fair assumption of perkiness, under the circumstances, "What's new?"
She was squeezed as far back into the niche as possible, muddy, battered and rather singed in spots, but otherwise unharmed.
Spike dropped down beside her, momentarily stupefied. Then he seized her in a frantic hug, ignoring her little "eep!" of alarm; after that he took her by the shoulders and shook her 'til her teeth rattled.
"Are you INSANE, girl?" he hissed, keeping his voice low to avoid alerting any approaching monsters. "What the HELL d'you think you're doing?"
As she opened her mouth to reply, the whooshing noise suddenly became a roar; Spike pushed Willow to the ground and threw himself over her, protecting her head with his arms, as a flight of about a dozen winged whatever-they-weres flapped through the cavern and disappeared down another tunnel.
After a few moments silence, he sat up and pulled her up, too, awkwardly brushing dirt from her clothes.
"Damn it, Willow, you were safe!" he said angrily, "Why did you leave the house? Why did you come here?"
"I thought of a way to help! I had to tell you!" Somehow, she managed to wail sotto voce. "And something - something made me come." She looked up at him with fear in her wide green eyes - green, not black - and tears streaking her cheeks, and he realized he was still vamped-out. He shook himself back to human face again apologetically.
"Look, Red, we've got to get you out of here; they're looking for you by now. Might as well have a big target painted on your back. How'd you get away, anyway?"
"Well, I didn't exactly get away; I sort of fell off. Triumph of the clumsy. They were heading down there -" she pointed towards the opening where ruddy light glowed; "and I fell and rolled down a slope and found this little hidey place. I'm not sure they even noticed; they're not - not aware like we are. I'm not sure they're even alive. They're like extra creepy robots, only not."
Spike calmed down a bit. This could have been so much worse. He still wondered where the beasts had actually gone, but that they weren't HERE could only be a good thing. He was fairly certain an attack of some kind was being prepared, but he'd have to deal with that when the time came. Now if he could get Willow back before the hell-dwellers detected her presence - hmmm. There might be a way. If he could grab a some time before any beasties arrived...
"Look, Red, sit tight a minute; I'll try and put 'em off your trail," he said, handing her the axe, which she clutched to her chest. "Take this - be right back." He swung himself over their protective boulder again, and dashed down one of the tunnels out of sight.
Willow huddled behind the big rock and waited, her fingers locked painfully around the axe he'd given her, just barely restraining herself from begging him not to leave her alone. She'd never been happier to see anyone in her life than she was to see Spike coming for her. Thank you, Buffy, for being such a potent souled-up vamp magnet, she thought gratefully; I'm sorry I said all those things when I was, like, evil.
She expected to be terrified beyond all power of rational thought by this point, but actually her mind was quite clear. Even after her long experience with demons, all her years of fighting evil, and being literally infected by evil, the touch of that fiend's hands inexorably gripping her arms was the most frightening thing that had ever happened to her. Those hands were hot, dry, and utterly inhuman; that face was not only unfeeling but without even a glint of understanding. At least vampires and demons - the ones she'd met, anyway - had comprehensible motives. With these hell-beings, there was no distinct person there at all that she could see, and that truly scared her.
It was true - she had thought of an idea she needed to tell Spike. It was also true that her idea was partly an excuse; she was drawn to the Hellmouth. The throb of raw power there called to her, and she realized that she was still poisoned - that was the only word - by the taint of the dark magics she had toyed with so heedlessly. But when that evil being seized her, and her feet left the ground, and she felt herself being pulled first upwards, then stomach-churningly downwards to a demonic nether-world, things suddenly shifted in her mind from chaos to absolute clarity. First, she definitely did not want to die. Second, she didn't want to serve in some evil overlord's horde, magical power or no magical power. No power was worth surrendering her freedom, her individuality, her actual personhood for. She didn't want to be one of those anonymous corrupt creatures obeying a malignant master. She'd far, far rather be a nerd again, powerless and negligible, but at least herself.
She heard footsteps and hoped desperately it was Spike. Taking a firmer grip on the axe, she raised it slightly, getting the balance of the weapon; at least she'd go down fighting. She peered over the rim of the boulder, her face full of resolve.
TBC
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Then came a conquering earth-thunder, and rumbled
That fierce complain to silence: while I stumbled
Down a precipitous path, as if impell'd.
I came to a dark valley.-Groanings swell'd
Poisonous about my ears, and louder grew,
The nearer I approach'd a flame's gaunt blue,
That glar'd before me through a thorny brake.
This fire, like the eye of gordian snake,
Bewitch'd me towards; and I soon was near
A sight too fearful for the feel of fear..."
John Keats, Endymion