Title: Up Over Everything (2b/?)
Author: Brooke
Email: yabbadabbadome13@yahoo.com
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I wished I owned the two Xanders' from "The Replacement" though. Buffy and friends are owned by Joss, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, The UPN and whoever else has rights to the show.
Summary: Part 2 in my "Romeverse". Can the Buffy, Xander and Willow put personal issues aside to fight and survive against a growing evil – one that can strike too close to home?
Distribution: I don't know why anybody would want this, but if somebody does…sure.
Feedback: Definitely!! Tell me if it sucked or if you liked it. Whatever. Just write back!
Authors Note: Takes place in an AU season 1 where Buffy and Xander are best friends and Willow is the new girl as Sunnydale High. It is the beginning of their sophomore year and, as 15 and 16 year olds, hormones and feelings are taking center stage.
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Buffy was behind him and he had no idea what happened to Angel as they ran down the sidewalk. His house was closer so he figured that they were headed there, but Buffy seemed to be lagging. Xander slowed his pace, hoping that that demon wasn't behind them and turned to face his friend. "Buff?" he panted, "Are you ok?"
Buffy focused hazily on his words and slowed to a stop in front of him. She was a little dizzy, but assumed that it was probably from when she got punched in the head, but it was her shoulder that was killing her. She really just wanted to get inside to survey the damage that was done.
"It stabbed me with something," she heaved out unsteady breaths and Xander approached her worriedly. She waved him off and hunched over to rest her hands on her thighs and catch her breath. "I'm fine. It's just…" her right hand reached across her chest and skimmed to her back. She knew that she was bleeding from the wet feel of the fabric of her shirt clinging to her skin, but the feel of it was something completely different, it burned under the soft press of her fingers and she winced.
Xander watched her expression and bit his lip. In the dim light of the street he could easily see the dark liquid stain the left side of her shirt and she was still struggling for breath. "We're almost there," he told her and moved to her other side. Xander wrapped his arm low around Buffy's waist and pulled her into a standing position, but quickly found that he was supporting the majority of her weight.
She staggered a little bit and she hoped that Xander couldn't feel her shaking against his side. All she could focus on now was the shooting pain that was lancing though, not just her side, but her whole body. Buffy slowly lolled her head to the side and let Xander lead her to his house. Something was wrong – she had never felt the way that she did now especially since she had become the Slayer.
He led them slowly through the dark streets of the town and the only sound that was louder to Buffy than their footsteps, was the loud pounding of her own heart, as the two noises combine threatened to deafen her. Buffy wasn't sure if Xander had been talking. She noticed occasionally that his body would jar in a way that usually signaled a chuckle, but she'd be lying if she knew what he was laughing at. What she did know was that if he were laughing, it was an obvious attempt to mask his worry because she could feel, herself, that she was less that there with him.
Xander readjusted Buffy against his side and was focused more on the top of her head and the feel of her heavy deep breaths against him, than the actual street ahead them. Buffy wasn't responding to anything he had said even minutely – and her head was bowed in a futile attempt to maintain equilibrium. He knew that if he were not there that there was no way that she would still be standing – the wobble of her knees at every step giving her away in an instant.
"Is she alright?"
The solemn, almost whispered, question drew Xander's attention away from watching the top of Buffy's head and he stopped his slow stride and turned his head to look behind him. "I don't know. She's pretty out of it." He slowly turned around, dragging Buffy a little as she stumbled a little to keep up with his movement. "Do you know what that thing was?"
"Not a clue." Angel shook his head and took a step towards the two teens. He stopped in front of them and raised his hand to touch Buffy's forehead, but hesitated when Xander shifted Buffy further away from his grasp. "We…" the vampire swallowed and reconsidered his statement, "You should talk to Giles. She has a fever."
"How do you know that?" Xander dropped his worried gaze back to the silent body of his friend that he was supporting against him. He was able to see a thin film of perspiration along her hair line, but had assumed that it was because they had been running; well, he had hoped that was the reason behind it. He discretely moved his fingers up to the hem of Buffy's short shirt and slipped them underneath to brush against the bare skin of her side. The spot usually would have tickled her, he knew from prior experience with contact with it, but this time the one response he received was the feel of her head rolling to the side opposite his shoulder. She was freezing to the touch in contrast to the fact that she seemed to be sweating.
"I can smell it."
Xander looked up at Angel with wide eyes again. "That's kinda…ew." They stared at each other for a second longer before Xander hoisted Buffy up into a better standing position and started to turn them around. "My house is closer than Giles' and who knows what's still out here." He didn't seen Angel's nod when he took one step before stopping again and noticing that Buffy wasn't walking with him at all anymore. Xander tried his best to swallow his worry and bent down to scoop her up into his arms: one hand wrapped across her back and the other under her knees. "I just want to get her inside."
Angel fell into stride behind the boy and watched him move through a bowed head. He had been alive for 242 years…a lot of them spent ravishing mass populations of people, and he could smell a variety of things beyond a fever. He could smell fear, too – and Xander was reeking of it.
"You don't have to follow everybody, you know," Xander tossed over his shoulder, but didn't slow his quicker pace to allow Angel to catch up. Soon he found himself shoulder to shoulder with the vampire as they headed down the street, Buffy's extended feet keeping a reasonable distance between them. "There," Xander let out a forced laugh, "Not so bad, huh?" He didn't receive an answer, but, from what he had gathered from his limited interactions with Angel, he should never expect one.
Buffy groaned into his shoulder; the first noise outside of labored breathing that she had made in a long while and Xander gulped and pulled her closer to his chest. "Fri..shn…"
Xander's brow furrowed and Buffy shook slightly against him and did not open her eyes. "What Buff?" he tried hopefully. "Buff?" He got no answer, and raised his gaze to Angel. "Maybe she needs to go to a hospital…call an ambulance or something…"
"I don't know what you would say to them," Angel glanced at him sideways before refocusing on the path to Xander's house. He could hear Buffy's mumbling, but could not make any sense out of the half words that she was sputtering out. "Maybe if she doesn't get any better. Check to see what exactly we're dealing with because I guarantee that if it's some sort of reaction to that demon, the hospital won't be able to help."
Xander silently and begrudgingly agreed but slowed when he saw the lights on in his living room and the faint blue glow from the TV. "Dammit. They're awake." He turned and shifted his balance. "I can't just walk through the house carrying her. They'll definitely call the hospital…" Xander shut his eyes and clenched his jaw, "Can you hold her for a minute?" he asked quietly and took a step closer to Angel.
The vampire's eyes widened in shock, but then his face broke out in the slightest grin that he had to fight down. He could only hope that Xander hadn't noticed the anticipation in his features when he held out his arms and the gently accepted Buffy's small form from her friend.
He growled inside at the, almost sublime, look on Angel's face and noticed that the vampire seemed intent to not focus on him anymore. "I'm gonna go in and open my window," he spoke in a gravely serious tone as he made their way up the steps. "I want to hurry up and check out her shoulder."
Angel nodded, "I'll get her up there."
Buffy stirred in the vampire's arms just as Xander's front door shut behind him. He face scrunched up and she seemed to be trying to squirm away from his hold in protest, but he resisted her movement. Buffy let out a slight bark from her hoarse sounding throat and forced her eyes open…finding herself looking up into Angel's dark eyes.
"There you are," he offered her a half smile. "Had me worried for a little."
Buffy's brow furrowed and tried to focus of his voice, but it sounded too far away for her to pick up any actual words. "Xan…" she swallowed deeply. Her confusion was clearly present in her features, but she couldn't make her voice work to express herself correctly.
"We're at his house," Angel whispered and saw a bed room light flick on. He knew that it was Xander's room, since he had seen Buffy go in there most nights over the past few months, and he pulled her tighter to him. "I'm going to take you up there, okay." He explained slowly when he noticed Buffy trying to focus on his speech. "Hold on." Angel set himself and without warning jumped into the air. Buffy stiffened momentarily in his arms as they cut through the night air and landed soundlessly on the low roof outside of Xander's window just as he pulled open his blinds.
Buffy looked around groggily from her new elevated position. The jump did nothing to quell the pounding in her head and, actually, only made her stomach twist and clench in a wave of nausea. "Put me down," she tried to sound forceful, but doubted if she succeeded. She saw Xander unlocking his window and opening it for her to enter.
"Are you su…"
"Put me down," she reiterated, pushing lightly against Angel's chest. The movement of her arm caused a new wave of blinding pain to course through her body – radiating and pulsing and, while she successfully bit back a scream, a distinctive whimper bubbled out of her throat.
The vampire glanced to Xander and dropped his arm from below Buffy's legs, letting them fall lightly to the roof. Buffy wobbled slightly and leant against him while she fought the vertigo that the new position caused before she stood up and moved towards Xander, who was watching her with concerned features. Buffy tried to cast him a reassuring glance while Angel's light touch on her back helped to guide her to the open window until she grasped Xander's hand tightly with her right one. "See," she grimaced while Xander reached out of the window and wrapped his arms around her waist to help her duck through the window, "All better."
Her skin still felt cool and clammy against his where it touched and Xander didn't like the grayish hue that was settling in behind Buffy's paling features when the light of the room exposed them. "Yeah," he agreed with an exhalation.
Buffy swallowed and her eyes fell shut as dizziness washed over her and she fell more into Xander's arms once inside the room. She had been warm outside, but his room felt like an inferno and her body shook involuntarily in response to the warmth.
Xander had been about to say something to Angel when he suddenly felt all of Buffy's weight push into him and her arms went slack in their grip around him. "Buff…" he tried to call to wake her up some. He got no response, "C'mon Buffy…" He carefully shifted her to the edge of the bed and lay her down as softly as he could. The pressure of her weight on her shoulder forced Buffy's eyes open with a sharp inhale as her features twisted in pain. Xander immediately grabbed her and rolled her partly onto her right side, and more of the extent of her wound was exposed to his gaze. He saw the four puncture holes in the fabric of shirt and there was blood surrounding them, yes, but more than that there was a sort of purplish/blackish serum that seemed to be abundant as well. "It's bad," he breathed finally turning back to Angel who was watching with rapt fascination from the window. He had looked at Buffy's shoulder much more directly when she had entered the room and fought his better judgment to just forego the time and the option to wait to see if she got better and just take her to Giles right then.
"Xander," Angel's voice was quietly demanding. "We need to take her to Giles."
"No," Buffy slurred again. She was laying partially on her side, her left arm locked motionless to her side and her right curled under to rest under her head. The Slayer swallowed deeply and forced her eyes open. She gulped and let her eyes shut again against the spinning brightness of her surroundings. "I'll be fine….just tired."
"You're hardly even coherent," Angel argued.
"He's right." Xander nodded to her and moved to Buffy's side. "I can get the car and…"
"No," Buffy said again, and probably a lot quicker than she should have pushed herself into a sitting position and got to her feet. She swayed slightly but then steadied and lolled her head from side to side to glance at both Xander and Angel. "I…" she took a deep breath and regretted her defiant movement and her stomach heaved upwards. "I'm fine," she swallowed shakily.
Xander watched Buffy's eyes wavier in and out of focus before she turned and stumbled heavily towards his bathroom. The secretion from her wound staining more of her shirt than he had anticipated and he winced as she fell against his sink and tried to balance herself.
"Should I make her go?" Xander headed back to Angel at the window while keeping a careful eye on Buffy.
Angel shrugged. "I think somebody needs to look at that thing tonight…" He cut his eyes to Xander and waited. And Xander watched him back. "Can I…can I come in?"
Xander's brow furrowed, but then his eyes widened in realization. "You don't know what that thing was?" Angel shook his head. "Then what else can you do?"
"I just think that I might be able to have something to report to Giles if I saw it, that's all."
Xander thought for a moment. He'd do anything to help Buffy, but he doubted that the vampire was any better off than him in this situation. He remembered all that folklore about vampires and having to invite them in to grant them access to homes…and he didn't want him in his home – didn't trust him that much. "Giles'll see it when she goes to him," he said steadily.
"But it could be…"
"Do you think I should make her go?" Xander asked again. "She's more coherent," he offered hopefully and then turned his head when he saw Buffy push herself to the left of the sink while dropping to her knees simultaneously. He swallowed his optimism when he heard a hard wet heave and then turned back to Angel. "Maybe she's fighting it?"
Angel couldn't match the light tone that Xander tried to force into the comment. "Maybe…"
"I'll watch her tonight," Xander swallowed to the tune of another heave from his bathroom. "If she gets worse…or unconscious, I'll take her to Giles. She doesn't want to go now."
"Its not always about what you want…"
"Right, Count Double-Entendre strikes again; and even through your panic." Xander bit sarcastically. "She's not that easy to make her do something, I have the minor concussion to prove it." Xander rubbed his head but didn't even chuckle at his own joke.
"If anything happens…"
"I'll take care of it." Xander fixed Angel with a steady gaze. The vampire seemed to doubt the lengths that he would go for Buffy. Seemed to think that he would let anything happen to her under his own roof.
"I'll be around until day break."
"Outside my window?" Xander raised an eyebrow. "Buffy wasn't wrong about shutting the blinds…"
"If anything happened and you don't call me," Angel swallowed and but his eyes to the bathroom. From what he could see, Buffy was talking a break and seemed to be leaning back against the sink, her legs fold under her, with her eyes closed. "So help me, I'll rip your throat out."
Xander's breath hitched in his throat as the threat was delivered with a deadly calm that he had never seen outside of Paccino film. "Buffy won't like your tone, Angel," his voice shook and he hoped that the vampire wouldn't sense it. "She'd dust you if you don't keep your muzzle on."
"Just…" Angel let his eyes shut. "Don't let anything…"
"Flattering that you care so much about her, Angel. It really is." Xander locked eyes with the vampire and dropped his tone to match the gravity that the vampire had used with him. "But you just remember. I cared first, and I care more." He didn't wait for the response that he saw coming when Angel opened his mouth, and Xander pulled his window pane down. He could swear that he heard the vampire growl when he locked eyes with him and pulled the curtain shut.
Xander didn't care where the vampire went, but assumed that he left when he could no longer see his shadow outlined through his curtain. He shook himself of the thought and headed to the bathroom to find Buffy resting with her eyes partially open and focused hazily on the shower door. She looked almost as if she had forgotten to shut them and had simply fallen asleep. Her breathing was rattled in her chest and coming in hard delayed exhalations, but she didn't turn to acknowledge him of speak.
Xander grabbed a towel from his rack and dropped to his knees beside her. "Buffy," he whispered reverently and raised the towel to softly wipe her face. "Are you alright?"
Her eyes focused slowly and she turned her head into his next swipe at her chin. "Peachy." Her voice was raspy and hollow.
Xander managed a chuckle and reached behind him to turn on his sink faucet. He grabbed a smaller towel from the counter top with out getting up and reached further behind him to hold it under the cool spray of water. He fixed her with a comforting smile and brought the cool cloth to her forehead, gently wiping the heated skin of her face and pushing her fallen hair back some in the process. "Think that was Joyce's spaghetti."
The cool cloth felt good against her skin and she had to focus on Xander's words to not loose herself completely in the sensation. "Told Dad I didn't like it."
"You think that's what this is?" Xander asked suddenly serious. He heard Buffy swallow when he dropped the wash cloth on the floor next to her leg and slipped his hand to the small of her back, gently pushing her forward. "I think it might be this." He ran his fingers lightly over the outskirts of the dark stain on her back and Buffy arched away from him with a gasp. "Does it hurt?"
"Hmm…" Buffy nodded slightly.
Xander's brow creased and he took a deep breath while he studied the coloring of the liquid that had dried into the fabric. The superficial aspect of the wound looked brutal and he couldn't imagine what her back must look like underneath. "Angel said he doesn't know what that thing was," he spoke quietly for no particular reason at all. "We need to see Giles."
Buffy's defenses hackled again. "I'm fine."
"Yeah," Xander breathed. Buffy hated doctors and stuff, he knew that. He figured that she was probably afraid that whatever was wrong with her now would inevitably wind up sending her there, and she wanted to avoid that at all costs. "Do you need to…um…expel…again?"
Buffy had thought about making a joke but only managed a swallow to sooth her dry throat and had to simply settle for shaking her head. "Kay," she heard Xander's quiet voice again and then felt his weight shift beside her as he got to his feet. Soon she found herself in the air, back in Xander's arms and feeling uncomfortably warm at the contact while he carried her back into the room. She felt him sit her on the side of the bed and hold her upright by lightly gripping her upper arms. She was glad that he was because everything in her wanted to just fall back and sleep until some time next year.
"Buffy," Xander shifted nervously and studied her pale face. He ducked his gaze to try to catch her eyes, but she had seemingly zoned out again. "I…do you…I think I should clean that…you arm and…" Her eyes slowly lifted to his, but then dropped back to the floor with out giving a verbal response. "I'm going to go get the first aid kit." This time Buffy nodded a little and he felt her begin to lay back against his hold. Xander turned her against her own momentum and laid her back on her right side against the blankets. He made sure that she was comfortable before hurrying back into his bathroom and grabbing the kit and some towels before heading back to her side.
"Kay Buff," he prompted as he scooted into position behind her on the bed. "I…um…I'm not quiet sure here…how you want to do this…" Xander didn't know if he was shaking because of the terror of the wound that the shirt was concealing, or because he was trying to figure out if her shirt could pull up far enough in the back for him to tend to it, but he hoped it was the first for his own morality. He hoped he could just think about trying to help his friend and not what might be under her clothes. "The shirt's ruined," he husked out after a moment. "I'm just going to cut it so I can see better." He was back from his desk with some scissors and his hand shook as he lowered them to the bottom hem of the small t shirt. "I don't want you to try to lift you arm," he justified nervously. His heart rate wasn't helped any when he felt Buffy, with concentrated effort, turn more into her right so that he could have better access for his task.
Xander's breath caught in his throat as he cut the shirt as carefully as he could up the back. Each slice exposed more discolored and puffy flesh and he was as gentle as he could be when separating the drying fabric from her skin in the places where it had gotten stuck. He couldn't find his voice as he looked at her back, the puffy yellow tinted skin expanding down the whole of her left side, and turning an almost red to bluish/black when the actual puncture wounds on her shoulder were revealed.
Buffy bit her lip and tried to fight the pain at the shirt being pulled away from her. "Is it bad?" her tone turned higher at the end, revealing a false sense of positivism.
Xander's mouth turned into a tight frown and he examined the still leaking tears where the talons had grabbed her. "Naw… Just a scratch."
Buffy nodded slightly. "Need me to sit up?" She felt the shirt break free at the collar and Xander's fingers moving slowly as he peeled it back to expose her whole shoulder.
"It's good," he whispered and turned to open the first aid kit. He pulled out some gauze and dabbed at the edge of the highest wound not quiet sure where to start. His eyes skimmed over the expanse and settled on the hole in the center of the triad…there was still something…
Xander licked his lips and slid the now discolored gauze down to wrap it around the prong that was protruding slightly from her back. He didn't say anything when he gripped the end of it as softly as he could and pulled it back hard – a six inch spike sliding out of her shoulder and trailing a thin line of slime after it.
"ARRHHHHHHRRR!!!!!!!"
Buffy wailed and jerked up and forward. He jumped to try to calm her and he pulled her now shaking and sobbing form back into his chest. Buffy's head pitched forward and the rasp of Xander's shirt over the bare skin of her, now searingly painful flesh, forced more tears from her. He rocked her back and forth in his embrace and 'shhed' in her ear, in hopes that her scream would not draw his parents. Hopefully they were too engrossed in the cable movie that they were watching to care…or better yet, had drifted to sleep on the couch.
When she had calmed down some Xander held both of her, now bare shoulders and leant her forward to examine her back again. "I'm sorry, Buff…" he whispered sincerely. "There was a thing in there…" The now unplugged would was pulsing out a blackish liquid and Xander reached for a clean cloth to stop the flow. He figured that he could also use it as a sample to give to Giles, too. Buffy didn't answer him, but he could tell that she was fighting to regain her composure. Her shaking and hitched breathing was growing more controlled. "I'm sorry."
Buffy bit her lip when she felt the intense sting of the antiseptic on her back next, and figured that Xander was trying to get this done as fast as possible. A part of her wondered if it was because she was in pain or because she just felt the remnants of her shirt fall further down her forearms. She heard his shaky breath and felt his fingers skimming lightly over her skin and settled that it was probably a mixture of both. She would usually make so many comments, and they were all right on the tip of her tongue…but forming words actually, at this point, made her whole body hurt, and her brain throb uncontrollably. She held still and Xander placed a large gauze pad over the expanse of her back, the tape that held it in place wrapping slightly around her shoulder and she felt him hesitate. "Don't look Xander," he joke was forced and completely humorless in tone, and it made Xander shudder in response.
"Sorry," he said again shakily. "I was…the tape…" He'd be lying if he said that having Buffy sitting in front of him topless and letting him take care of her hadn't distracted him. Mostly it was just the topless, cuz, hey – he had never seen…
But it was wrong. And she was hurt. And he was preoccupied with her chest…just sitting there in front of him and offering him his first unobstructed view of what his hands had been enjoying for months…
It was wrong.
He finished covering her back with the padding and was slightly worried that it was being soaked through already. "Should I take that?" he gestured to the cut shirt in her lap. "I'll get you a new one…demon goo-less." Buffy nodded and he let her lay back on her side while he went to his dresser and pulled out a button down shirt, figuring that it would be easier for Buffy to put on than a t shirt. Plus, he settled as he approached the bed again, the shirt was more sample for researching tomorrow.
"Not looking," Xander's voice had a sense of levity and he shut his eyes before standing in front of her. She didn't say anything and he heard her deep breaths and he opened his eyes to find her lying with her arms curled up over her chest and almost shaking in her own embrace. "You're cold," he reached for Buffy without hesitation and pulled her back into a sitting position, all…most, thoughts of partial nudity pushed to the back of his mind. He carefully slipped her left arm through the short sleeve of the shirt and pulled it over her shoulder before repeating the action on the other side. He glanced up briefly and caught her hazy eyes, but then focused on the task of buttoning the shirt. He was mildly successful at not focusing on her breasts for extended periods of time, and Buffy hadn't said anything that would make him think that she had noticed. "There," he whispered and let his hand drift up from the top button and slide over her cheek.
"Xan…" she let her statement trial off and hoped that he got her thanks in her tone. He ran his fingers through her hair that was lightly framing her face and guided her back down to her side, this time settling her high against the pillows.
"Bed time, poky." He joked and draped a spare blanket over her still form. "Tomorrow there's going to be so much Giles time you won't know whats what."
Buffy sighed in acknowledgment and let her eyes drift shut. She was a little warm still, but the soft blanket, her favorite at Xander's house, was smooth and soft, and completely comforting to her. She just wanted to go to sleep. She listened quietly through her half consciousness as Xander prepared for bed, stopping periodically to check on her: sometimes approaching her side of the bed, and sometimes just gazing from across the room until he was satisfied that she was alright.
She sensed the change in the brightness and knew that he had turned the light off, and then heard him open his door again.
"Night Ma. Dad."
His tone was always much more formal with his own parents than with hers. She'd always wondered why, but never actually questioned him on it. She had just always accepted that for all intents and purposes in her house Xander was her brother from another mother – he just happened to live five minutes away.
The mattress shifted beside her and Xander climbed on top of the covers to lie next to her. Buffy shivered slightly at the feel of his breath on the back of her neck, but he calmed her reaction by wrapping his arm around her waist. He hugged her back to him but kept his body from coming in contact with her shoulder. Buffy's breathing was shaky under his arm and he skimmed his fingers down to the pulse point on her wrist. He found it easily because of the force the thud was causing, but quickly gave up trying to interpret what the irregularity of it might mean. All Xander knew was that beating was good. Beating meant that he could sleep for a little while that night. Xander let his eyes drift shut in the security that he would be able to watch over Buffy for the rest of the night, and make sure that she was better tomorrow.
~*~*~
"What do you mean he's broken?" Jesse stood up angrily from the table. "It's an inter-dimensional Hell beast, and he's broken?"
Darla walked behind him and rubbed the younger vampire on the back comfortingly. She leant forward when he let his head drop and breathed lightly into his ear, enjoying the slight shudder that went through him. "He's useless now." Darla pulled back, "The Slayer broke his spiny thing…"
"So there's nothing else we can do with him?" Jesse ignored Darla in favor of addressing his minion Randall, the one who had performed the spell to summon the Vardilus in the first place. "Well," the gruff voice of the older man replied, "like I said before, at this point, if you want to use that demon against the Slayer you're going to have to get it close enough to fall on her and be hopeful that she'll be crushed."
Darla broke out in a meticulous grin at the pure sarcasm that dripped from Randall's reply, and then again when she saw Jesse's seething anger and impatience. Tonight, like most other nights, had not gone according to plan. The boy was quick to point out the flaws of the group that formerly was under the leadership of Luke, but he had yet to be able to outwit or out fight the Slayer himself either. From what she had gathered, despite his unwillingness to discuss it outright, he was afraid of her. He had watched his tiny yet superhumanly strong friend beat the shit out of a three hundred year old killer. What chance did he have?
Jesse kept banking on the fact that Buffy wouldn't be able to kill the incarnation of one of her best friends; but it wasn't necessarily true. His past was enough to stall the Slayer, but it wasn't enough to keep her out of the fight. She quickly differentiated the two and seemed to have drawn the conclusion that as the ultimate act of savior, dusting Jesse would be what she owed him as a friend. That Buffy didn't want Jesse to have to suffer through the curse and burden of not having a soul.
And Xander…
Darla watched Jesse fidget almost nervously as he tried to work out a back up plan in his war against his former friends. He feared becoming like Angel, too. Xander had mentioned that they could find a way to "fix him". She had told him about Angel, the scourge of Eastern Europe for over a century of unbridled bloody terror – who was now all hearts and rainbows with candy raindrops. A pathetic shell of the demon he was and could be. The demon that Darla still wanted to draw out…but that was her personal vendetta that she had derived from her time with Luke.
"DO I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING MYSELF?!" the teenaged vampire boomed and the five other minions in the cave shuddered and cowered. Jesse stalked hurriedly to the cage where the Vardilus was being held. He watched for a few moments as the demon milled around the enclosed space – lost and broken looking, especially for a subhuman monster.
The thing had gotten the upper hand on the Slayer. It was more than a match physically – its mental capacity got it in trouble, yes, but brawn can beat brains any day of the week. And its not like it was fighting Einstein anyway…but she had won. Jesse had watched the Vardilus do its thing – it was supposed to stab its victim in the heart and inject a lethal poison directly into the organ. He had seen it go in for the kill, watched Buffy's face contort in pain and horror at first contact with the demon. But she had STILL gotten away, and was seemingly no worse off for it.
Jesse tilted his head and watched the creature pace. "You said that it's spine broke off?"
He wasn't facing the general population of the room, but Randall spoke up regardless. "Yes. Its clean gone and broken off…"
"How?" Jesse asked and whipped around to question the other vampire. "I mean, that would mean that it used its mojo and…"
Randall considered his train of thought and nodded. "Quite possibly he stabbed her and missed, yes."
"So lets say he missed her heart," he walked away from the cage and towards Darla. He sent her a smirk and then turned and nodded back to the cage. "Did it still poison her?"
"Somebody's afraid to finish the Slayer himself," Darla sing-songed behind her childe.
"Somebody's cautious enough to weaken her first." Jesse countered matching her teasing tone.
"That didn't used to be your song," the vampiress taunted with a raised eyebrow. "I thought all that stuff was bullshit?"
Jesse turned and faced his sire full on. They always shot digs at each other and it really did wonders for their very public, at time, sex life, but he hated with a passion when she undermined his authority. Nobody had told her to follow him, so why question his every move. His smile was contrived and blatantly as fake as his tone, "It's all fun and games until centuries old demons get offed by pre-pubescent cheerleaders, dear." He turned back to Randall and the Vardilus and awaited an answer.
"Hypothetically, yes. She'd still have been poisoned."
"So she'll still die, right?"
"Hypothetically, yes." Randal shifted in his feet and his confidence wavered. "I've never done this type of stuff before. I don't really know…"
"As long as she's been hit, she'll die." Jesse shrugged his shoulders. "Sure it'll take a little bit longer, but the fact that she'll suffer the burning pain of her insides rotting her alive'll make it well worth it." His optimism at the Slayer's impending demise was infectious throughout his lair.
Jesse studied the Vardilus for a moment longer before his smile and laughter dies and he spoke with a deadly steadiness. "Kill it."
At his word three of his group approached the cage of the injured demon and the monster immediately tried to put distance between itself and the advancing threat. "Wait!" Darla's voice rang out and halted all movement.
"What?" Jesse's tone remained aggravated.
"Well the Vardilus," Darla stated from the memory of her studies on the demon before they summoned it. "It said the there's an antidote." Jesse's brow furrowed in interest and he motioned her to continue. "The heart. To survive, which doesn't happen often, or at all for that matter, the heart of the demon has to be ingested."
"So?" Randall asked.
"So," she rolled her eyes and faced the questioning vampire instead of Jesse. "We keep it alive and they come for it. They're going to want to save her, and they'll have time if they can get to it in time."
"They'll walk right into our hands," Jesse's eyes lit up. "Xander…Angel…they'd do anything to get their hands on the cure for their beloved Buffy."
"Angel will be wrapped around your little finger," she smiled. "And the Anointed will be after the most powerful weapon you'll have." She loved the dark smirk that lit up Jesse's face. He was, once again, reconsidering a plan of his that had blown up, but she had been able to recover a silver lining. Darla knew that if it weren't for her Jesse probably would have fallen on a stake by now, but he was a perfect scapegoat. She could ride his coattails and reap all the benefits of his vindictiveness for herself.
Darla sauntered up to him and rubbed her hand lightly down his arm. Jesse looked down at her and she offered him a devious smile. "You ready to take a town babe?"
~*~*~
The next morning
~*~*~
The sun was filtering into the room and casting it a dull yellow glow. Usually light would wake Buffy up, but today she had been conscious long before daybreak. The pain coursing through her body had jolted her awake from her state of semi sleep hours ago. Where once she would have been completely comfortable in Xander's bed and arms, she had been to busy on focusing on not vomiting again for the simple fact that thinking about making the walk was enough to make her clench in anticipated pain.
But that thought was no longer an option. The feeling was continuous now and there was nothing the Slayer could do to stave it off. She was burning up under her layers of clothes and had taken comfort in the fact that Xander had eventually rolled away from her so that she could push off the fire hot blanket. But despite all of that, Buffy couldn't stop herself from shivering and she could feel her hair clinging to the sweat around her face. Her whole body felt swollen around the specific point in her left shoulder and beyond that she could only focus on her labored and rattled breathing to draw her attention away from the agony.
Buffy didn't know what she could do, but she did know that she couldn't lie still anymore. She had to move and distract herself until whatever was wrong with her passed. Buffy slowly and with a restrained groan pushed herself into a sitting position and planted her feet shakily on the ground. The room spun around her and she fought to keep from collapsing back onto the bed and waking Xander. The left side of her body was tight and throbbing and she couldn't move the fingers of her numb left hand – she glanced down at the appendage as if to check to see that it was still there…her finger tips were slightly purple and she gulped down her worry.
She just had to see Giles. Fine. She could admit that and she could do that. Buffy took slow steps to the window and flung open the curtain and opened the pane as quietly as she could, before moving cautiously to ease herself outside. The bright sun was blinding and making her head throb even more but Buffy ducked her head and crawled on one hand and her knees to the edge of the roof. She turned and cursed to herself, now only able to hope that her right arm was still strong enough to balance her weight and lower her safely down to the ground.
It wasn't.
Buffy lowered herself over the edge, but her grip was weak and slipped, sending her crashing to the ground. The Slayer was thankful the she just dropped straight down and landed hard in a sitting position rather than on her back or side. She was breathing hard and she shook her head to clear it before rolling over onto her knees and pushing herself unsteadily to her feet. Buffy stumbled out of Xander's yard, not even thinking about looking back and she dragged her feet slowly down the sidewalk towards her home.
Buffy hadn't been keeping track of the time, but she was sure that the usually five minute walk to Xander's had taken her at least twenty. She was only vaguely aware of the strange and concerned looks that she had received from passing joggers, and could only imagine what she must look like – she felt like shit, that was for sure.
Her house came into view and she couldn't even sigh in relief when her options of getting inside entered her mind. Only one option really. Buffy slowly made her way up the front steps and slowly pushed open the front door with her right hand. She didn't even want to attempt trying to climb up onto her roof.
The voices sounded more distant than they should but Buffy could still hear her father's laugh and then Dawn say something else excitedly in response. It had been a long time since she had attended a family breakfast since the mornings that she had been home she had opted to sleep just a little bit later.
"Buffy?" her mother asked, probably having heard the sound of the door shutting and her shuffled footsteps to the door of the kitchen. "Is that you honey?"
Buffy's vision clouded as she appeared in the doorway, cradling her locked left arm with her right, as Xander's huge shirt drowned her. "Yeah," she managed to breath out after a deep swallow.
Joyce immediately put down her slice of toast and stood up from her stool to approach her daughter.
"Did you go running this morning?" Hank asked without looking up from his LA Times.
"In that?" Dawn still managed to say condescendingly despite the pale form of her big sister, shaking in the door way and her mother's worried stance in appraisal. "Didn't you have those pants on last night?" That got her father's attention and he looked up to face his oldest daughter.
"Are you alright Buffy?" Joyce asked, forgoing any questioning. She reached for her daughter and grasped her shoulder and Buffy recoiled sharply from the contact, but was unable to fight off the spontaneous tears that sprung from her eyes.
"I'm fine." She swayed on her feet and took a small step past Joyce and into the room.
He was wondering about the shirt and her whereabouts that morning, but the obvious other issue clouded his mind. "Are you sure Buffy?" Hank set down his paper and made a move to approach his unsteady daughter.
"Yeah," her eyes rolled shut of their own volition and all of the normal sound in the room drowned out. Her mouth didn't even feel like her own when she spoke. "Just…" she tried to take a deep breath but it got caught in her throat. "Brea…st…"
"BUFFY!!"
Somebody shouted her name, but she couldn't tell whose voice it was, and suddenly she couldn't feel anything. Buffy's eyes clouded over and the room went black at the same time that legs slackened and gave out and her mind went blank before she assumed she hit the ground.
"BUFFY!!" Joyce called again when her daughter collapsed in front of her. Her husband reacted quickly when he saw Buffy's eyes roll into her head and she swayed forward more obviously than before and he grabbed her arm to keep her from hitting her head on the corner of the island table.
"Call the hospital Dawn!" Hank called over his shoulder and slid off of his stool to lower Buffy carefully to the ground.
Dawn scrambled across the kitchen and grabbed the cordless phone off of the wall while her mother snatched up the car keys from the counter. "Let's get her to the car!" Hank huffed and scooped up Buffy and ran out of the room behind Joyce, careful not to jar his unconscious daughter too much. "Tell them we're on our way!" Joyce called back to Dawn just before she heard the door slam shut.
"Sunnydale Memorial Hospital, this is Ally. How can I help you?"
The chipper voice jarred the scared teen from her inner panic. "Uh…hi…"
"Hi," the woman named Ally replied. "Can I help you?"
"My sister." Dawn swallowed. She new her voice sounded terrified and she reserved that right. "She passed out…"