Sorry about the lack of updates, but real life has been really hectic. Don't worry, this story will definitely be finished! Thanks for the lovely reviews, too.

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Chapter 19

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It was a quiet, sorrowful group that returned to the school that morning. No one dared break the silence that covered them like a blanket, all cowered back into submission by the three troubled and agitated men that flanked the small, beaten body of the Slayer.  Her friends, tightly surrounded by the adults, trudged forward with trepidation, all of them conceiving the punishments they knew they would be given.

Xander glanced over at Connor, who was smirking slightly as he strode beside him. By what Connor had told him only hours ago, when the others were inside the deceptively demure house, Xander gathered that he knew what Angel had in store for them when they arrived safely back at the school. The amused smile did not reassure him.

He looked at the others and saw their emotions splashed across their faces. Willow kept sneaking nervous glances at Angel, her face becoming paler with every minute gone by. Cordelia held a bored expression, but her teeth chewed down on her lip and Xander saw the slight twitch in her eye. Oz's face was as impassive as it usually was, although now his lips were formed into a grim frown instead of the smirk that seemed to take residence there. Anya was fidgeting non-stop; Xander swore he would scream if she tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder one more time. Their expressions did nothing to calm his rapidly beating heart, but when he saw Faith's stony face he was sure it would burst from his chest.

Her brown eyes were blank, staring out from her pallid skin, and her mouth was slightly open. She seemed empty, as though the night had drained her of all the energy in her body. Her shoulders were slumped forward and her feet dragged heavily along the gravel of the road, and Xander could only come up with one word in his limited vocabulary to describe her. Despair. Faith was in complete and utter despair. He could understand... well, not really understand, but he could see why she was so upset. He knew that she doted on Angel like a father, and to see him so entirely disappointed in her would have torn the heart right out from beneath her funky, black tee.

Despite his developing anxiety, Xander was also feeling a sense of dread well in his chest every time he looked up and saw Buffy's prone figure in Giles' arms. He could not help but stare as her arm swung passive beneath her body, nor could he pull his gaze away from the deep cuts and burns along it.

They arrived at the school only moments before daybreak, and the students were ordered to their dorms to get ready for classes that day. Not one of them argued. They tumbled into their rooms, wearily pulled on their clothes and trudged into the hall just as the bell for breakfast rang. Their table was silent as they nibbled on their meals. Not even Xander could stomach the delicious pancakes.

The day passed as though every second were an hour. It seemed to drag on impossibly long, and was made even worse by the fact that all the teachers were present during classes, and not one of them seemed to be affected by last night. They acted as though they hadn't spent their night hunting vampires. They were as sharp and ordinary as any other day, and it infuriated Xander that he and the others were being completely ignored. He kept on their backs, rushing after them nonce class had ended, asking after Buffy.

The only answer he ever got was "fine", and soon enough two days had come and gone. There was no news of Buffy, nor was there any news of the people who had taken her. The other students continued on with their lives, oblivious to the fact that one of their fellow students was somewhere in the school half dead. The rumors circulating the halls had changed from Buffy being kidnapped to Buffy running away to England. When Xander and the others had all but given up hope of finding out anything, Giles took to the stage one morning.

"Uh, excuse me," he began. "It has come to my attention that there are certain rumors throughout the school regarding a Miss Buffy Summers." A thick silence blanketed the hall, and all eyes were placed upon the middle-aged Watcher. He swallowed, pushing away the frightening memories and anger surging through his blood. "None of them are true. Buffy has simple fallen quite ill and will rejoin us very soon. That will be all."

He strode from the stage and it took all of Xander's self control not to rush over and beat him over the head with his bread stick.

"Xander, don't even try," Willow hissed. She had seen the veins in his neck bulge when Giles had left the stage.

"I can't stand it, Will," he said, slumping back into his seat. "It's driving me crazy." He picked at the food on his plate. "I just want to make sure she's okay."

"It's driving us all crazy," Cordelia said, absently twirling her straw in her glass. "Hey, has anyone seen Faith?"

No one had seen her since their returned and they were given yet another thing to worry about. Xander remembered her eyes; blank and emotionless. He knew what it was like to have the person you look up to and depend on be disappointed in you. He knew what it was like to have someone give up on you. He just hoped she was okay, because he didn't think he could deal with another friend in trouble.

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Buffy screamed as the red flames advanced on her, the heat already licking her face. Through the fire she could see two black eyes that spoke of terror and suffering that she could not comprehend. This was evil at its worst form, and it was gaining on her. She tried to move, to run, to scream, but she could not move, and her feet would not work. Her mouth opened in a silent wail. The flames came closer, cackling with an emptiness that frightened her more than any sound she had ever heard. The fiery figure stopped just before her, and an ember of hope sprung to life in her stomach. But then the flaming cloak was flung back and she finally saw who stood before her.

Him. His eyes met hers, and she felt her blood run cold. Please, no, she begged silently, but her pleas only made his empty eyes glimmer with malice. His cloak of flames appeared once more and he launched at her, engulfing her body in the unbearable heat. She screamed, and this time the shock of her voice pierced the spell which held her still. She fell to the ground, lying flat on her back, and saw the darkness crept into the corners of her eyes. She welcomed the dark, but only a mere second before she allowed it to claim her she found the black bird flying over her.

She bolted upright, but instead of seeing the black bird above her, she saw a light, an incredibly harsh light that burned her eyes. She cried out and raised her arms to cover her eyes from the glare, but found that her arms would not listen to her. Suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of dizziness, she fell back onto the soft surface. Her head hit something even softer than the thing she was lying on, and she opened her eyes again. This time the light was not so bright and she glanced at her surroundings. The roof above her was white, with small cracks forming an endless run of outlets. She moved her head to the side, and saw that the walls were also white. Where was she? Struggling to sit up, her arm brushed against her hips bone and a wave of intense pain washed over her. She moaned in pain, and slowly lifted the too-large top away from her stomach. There was a huge bruise that covered the entire proximity of her left hip, and she wondered how she had acquired it. She bent over to inspect it closer but found that she couldn't. She was bound to the bed by several wires and tubes that disappeared over the end of the bed and ended in large, beeping machines.

A hospital. She was in a hospital. How had she ended up here? The last thing she remembered was... No. She could not remember anything. She gasped at the realization and began to panic. Why was she covered in bruises and cuts? In a moment of sheer panic she grabbed at the tubes and wrenched them from her body. It hurt, but she barely comprehended the pain. She scrambled from the bed and backed into the corner, covering her ears when a shrill alarm sounded through the room.

Suddenly the room was filled with frantic people who rushed towards the bed. A young man pulled the sheet back and she heard the occupants of the room gasp when it was discovered empty. There was a moment of silence, before a pale, blonde man skidded to a stop before the bed.

"Where the hell is she?" he asked.

Buffy stared at the newcomer. There was something about him… Without warning she was flung into a sea of memories that hounded her relentlessly. Slaying, kidnapping, torture…it all washed over her in a matter of seconds. She gave a small whimper and immediately attracted Spike's attention.

"Buffy, luv." He rushed over to her, reaching out with both hands, but she shied away form his touch.

"Spike?" she whispered, her voice hoarse from lack of use.

"Yeah, it's me."

"I-I want… how did I get here?"

"We came and got you out of there." Buffy looked up and saw Angel, Giles and Wesley standing behind Spike. She nodded and whispered a heartfelt thanks. Fred and Miss Kirly stepped forward quietly, and Buffy could see the nervous expression on their faces.

"I think I'd like to know the whole story," Buffy said softly. "If you'll tell me."

"I think it is only right to inform you of the entire situation," Giles said, holding out his hand which she gratefully took. Leading her back to the hospital bed, he waited for her gingerly climb back in. Fred set about inspecting her injuries and once she was finished she left the room with Wesley and Miss Kirly in tow.

"Well, I do not know where to begin," Giles said helplessly. He turned to Angel for help and he stepped forward.

"Spike told you the beginning, I believe," he said, shooting Spike a pointed look. "But from there on it gets confusing. We have been trying to discover what Travers actually plans to do to end the world, but so far we've come up empty handed. We have Doyle working undercover within his ranks, but Travers is keeping tight-lipped on any plans he has."

Buffy listened avidly, determined not to miss a thing.

"As you can see, you play a part in whatever Travers is planning. We always thought the previous Slayer would…well, we were trying to keep her away from him, and he was trying to snatch her. When you were called, well, it threw everyone into a panic. Now we not only had to find you, but we had to warn you and train you to face this thing. But it stuffed Travers up as well, you see, because he doesn't have the means to track potentials anymore. When we found you we sent Spike to get you immediately, but somehow they knew who you were and it was only luck-"

"And my quick thinking," interjected Spike.

"-that got you out of there safe."

Buffy looked thoughtful. "There's something I don't understand."

"Yes?" Giles asked.

"Spike is a vampire- which by the way, nobody thought important enough to inform me of." She shot them a dirty look. "And not to mention Angel as well. But if he's a vampire, how did he come into my room without being invited?"

Spike snorted. "That's easy, pet. Since I'm delivery boy, or in this case, pickup-boy, I 'gotta be able to get into places quickly. Glinda- Miss Maclay, sorry- hit me with her mojo and got around that little barrier."

"Oh, okay," Buffy screwed up her nose. "Then what about the other vampire?"

Angel and Giles shared a troubled glance. "That's what we don't know. Either they've managed to come up with their own spell, or someone here has told them."

"What do you mean, someone has told them?"

"Someone here, Buffy, in ASG," Giles replied tersely.

"Why would anyone do that?"

"People are corrupted in many ways."

Buffy felt a slight discomfort in her shoulder and she pulled down the sleeve of her hospital gown. There was a small hole, no larger than the end of a pencil, but it ran deep. She was hurtled back into that small, damp room, where Travers laughed maliciously as he poked her with his cigarette. She shook away the memories but froze when she remembered another one.

"Wait," she said. "Would it help it I told you that Travers wasn't the head honcho?"

All three heads shot up to face her, and she felt their shocked gazes burning into her.

"What?" Angel asked.

"When he was…doing this to me, he threatened to kill me. But then he started grabbing his head as if he was in pain and kept saying 'Sorry Master, not yet'. I don't think he's the one pulling the shots."

"Good grief," Giles murmured. "We must get onto this immediately. Spike, grab whoever is free of classes and start researching for anything which refers to a Master, or mind control. Maybe even telepathy, as it seems to me that Travers was spoken to through his mind."

He nodded and after a quick glance at Buffy, he was gone.

"Buffy, I know that your wounds are nearly healed, but I would prefer if you stayed in bed and rested," Giles said. Before she could protest he held up his hand. "Actually, I'm ordering you to rest."

Buffy gave Angela pleading gaze but he shrugged. "You don't want to mess with Giles."

After assuring them that she would sleep for as long as she could, they left her in the room. She sunk into the pillow and closed her eyes, praying for the images of her ordeal to leave her alone. They did, and she slept peacefully. She did not dream.