The slightly claustrophobic bars surrounding me are starting to get me incredibly pissed off. In what I think has been over 15 minutes, I have been trying to bust open this damn cage, with Faith sitting silently in her cage. I can tell a determined smirk is resting on her face.
"Told you," she yawns, "I spent all of my time thinking up ways to break this thing till you showed up. They've got it cursed with some tough freakin' mojo."
I start to grit my teeth in annoyance. I don't think I've ever spent this much time with Faith without having something to vent my irritations on, vampires being very convenient.
"Well, couldn't hurt to give it a shot," I say harshly, trying to swallow back my frustration with the cramped space I'm in and Faith's careless attitude, "maybe they locked mine with some different mojo."
"Hey, no need for the 'tude, B," I hear her retort from next to me, "just wanted to see how long it took you to bust your leg trying to get out."
Rolling my eyes, I have to agree. Both my legs are just the tiniest bit sore from the enraged kicking I took out on the bars. Unfortunately, the stupid Death Eaters learnt from my last escape: despite all my efforts, the rods don't even have a dent. I've also tried wrenching open the small lock in the corner at the top of the cage. But they've sealed it with magic too.
Then I hear a creak at the door as it swings open, revealing a darkly cloaked and hunched figure in a faint pool of yellow light. My head whips up at the sound, and a fierce hatred starts to seethe in my chest, spreading to the edges of my fingers and legs. I can feel the adrenalin rush through me, my heart pumping faster with anticipation as I think of all the ways of hurting this person.
But as soon as that thought passes through, a sickening hissing voice whispers, "What a sight this is."
I stare at the figure and am startled when glowing, demonic red eyes flicker from underneath the hood veiling the person's face. I can tell Faith is too, as I hear her boot clang quietly against one of the bars of her cage. But in the silent room, the noise echoes through, and a slight shiver raises goosebumps along my skin.
The hooded figure looks up and the red eyes that blaze out from the dark capture me. I suck in a quick breath at the power that's rolling off in dangerous waves from the entrance. From here, I can see that there is a narrow corridor leading both ways, oil lamps on the wall lighting it. We must be underground, because there's a familiar stiffness in my chest that only comes from patrolling Sunnydale's sewers and crypts, heading closer to the core of the Hellmouth.
Still shrouded in the pale light, the figure steps forward and shuts the door with a loud bang that reverberates off the walls. Unwittingly, I feel myself start to inch towards the back of the cage. The power oozing off this guy has increased in the pitch darkness, only the demonic red eyes a sign of his wrath.
"Two of the most powerful beings in the Universe, trapped under Lord Voldemort, with nowhere to run, and no one coming to their rescue," the voices hisses in a sinister undertone, his eyes growing closer towards us.
My eyes narrow dangerously. So this is the feared Voldemort.
...Can't even shout Can't even cry...I snort, aware of the way that the red eyes widen with anger, "you wouldn't have managed to pull this off without being slave-boy to the First, who, I bet, is enjoying himself very comfortably while you do his dirty work."
It's so quiet, I can faintly hear Faith's careful breathing, and then, "Crucio."
I bite my lip until it bleeds, not giving in to screaming from the God-awful pain that wracks my body. Instead, I clench my fists to my chest, writhing until the first brunt of pain has washed over, and manage to gasp out, "You are so fucking weak."
The pain continues for a moment longer, managing to draw blood from my nose. I feel the warm fluid slowly start to drip down, just touching my upper lip. I can taste, feel and smell blood everywhere. The bitter copper taste is in my mouth, my nose, my hands. Unclenching my fists, I can feel the sting of where my fingers dug into the palm of my hand, drawing more blood from the deep crescent marks.
As quickly as possible, I shut my eyes and try to gather as much strength back into my body. But despite my concentration, his acrid hiss still manages to get through.
"I am anything but weak, Slayer," he says, spitting out the last word with disgust.
I would roll my eyes if I weren't in such pain. Insulting male pride gets you everywhere.
"Prove it, Snake-Boy," Faith scoffs from her cage. I hope she knows what she's doing...
With a snap, the lock on her cage flicks open, and I can see the silhouette of her figure nimbly climb out of the cage, her legs stretching. The clack of her boots on the floor is heavier than usual, and I can tell that sitting in the cage has affected her. I just hope to God that she has a plan.
Voldemort launches the first curse swiftly, my ears just catching the mutter of Avada Kedavra. A bright bolt of green illuminates the room, and as Faith dives to the right, I see what Faith meant by having a bondage fetish. The room is quite large, about three quarters the size of my training room in the Magic Box, and lining the walls are identical metal cages, some even stacked on top of each other in the corners.
The two of them are battling in the middle of the room, the wizard hissing curses on my left, and Faith dodging them on the right. All of a sudden, I manage to see Faith narrowly flip over a shot thrown at her as the light illuminates the room again, and continue flipping until she reaches Voldemort, who stumbles slightly at the ground she's gained.
The light dies, and I hear sounds of a struggle.
Faith curses, and suddenly I find a bright green curse heading straight towards me. I yelp slightly, diving to the right and hitting my head against one of the metal bars. But the sound is nothing compared to the ringing in my ears from the spell that hit the cage, making it vibrate against me. Wincing slightly, I yell, "A little warning next time? I don't wanna be the next Alex Mack!"
"How about," she grunts and my eyes widen as a curse clips her on her calf, "a little help instead?"
She's wounded, and I hear her groan again as another curse cuts her on the arm. Relieved to find that the curse that hit the cage managed to melt through the bars, I squeeze out, and run over to where I saw Voldemort last. The anger that was slightly dimmed through fear begins to lash out again as I pummel him in his soft gut, reveling in the winded, and hopefully, pained gasps he produces. Swiftly producing a roundhouse, I knock the wooden stick out of his hand. As I move in to continue punching in hopes of bringing him down, I suddenly find myself punching into air.
Then an evil laugh emerges and I find myself lost in the dark.
"Where is he?" Faith whispers, coming to stand with her back against me. I can smell the blood of her wounds.
You killed me.
I shake my head, causing Faith to ask, "What's wrong?"
Shaking my head again, a sudden crawl up my spine alerts me to something else. I close my eyes. Not again.
"What's wrong?" a silky voice mocks from one corner of the room, "the big Slayers scared?"
"Of a prick like you?" Faith snorts, but I can hear the tiny edge of hesitation when she realises whose voice it is, "not likely."
Oh God, oh God...of all the people...
"What's wrong, love?" the voice says, coming closer, and I can feel my heart clench tightly, "Not gonna give us a kiss?"
"You're not him," I mutter, repeating words from only a few weeks ago.
No, you killed him right and proper.
I love you.
No you don't.
But thanks for saying it.
"Sure I am, ducks," the voice drawls, coming even closer, and blowing a puff of cigarette smoke towards us. It stings my eyes, and I can feel my eyes well up with tears. Though from the memory or the smoke, or even a mixture of both, I'm not sure. All I can think about is the last gaze into his blue eyes. Icy cold, and yet, warmth was seeping into them as he adjusted to his soul. He didn't get the chance.
"Ignore it, Buffy," Faith says, "it's not him, you know that."
I do, but somehow, his presence feels...right.
"It's gonna end soon, love," he says in his familiar lack of tone, "you should get yourself outta this mess. He's not gonna stop at this world, y'know?"
"Shut up!" Faith yells, launching at him. But he disappears like Voldemort did, leaving her in a rage.
"Talk on. I'm not afraid of you."
I swing my arm around in the dark and place a restraining hand on Faith, who turns to look at me. I can tell by the feel of air as her hair moves.
The First materialises again, still as Spike.
"You know what I want, Slayer. You know what he wants. Why fight? It's going to tumble down on your pretty little head soon enough," he says, and I can hear a run of malice through Spike's voice.
I let the space breathe between us, and feel Faith tense tightly under my hand.
"I wanna see how it ends," I say tonelessly, echoing Spike's parting words.
The air in the room constricts almost chokingly as he leaves. A few seconds pass, and just as I drop my hand from Faith's shoulder, the door bursts open and a flood of light from nine lit wands reveals my missing Guard.
Remus hurries forward to me with Snape in tow.
"Are you alright?" he asks, and even in the weak light, I can see worry lines all over his face.
"Werewolf?" Faith asks, eyeing Remus suspiciously.
"Guard, meet Faith. We came, we rescued, we go," I say, and can hear exhaustion creeping into my voice.
"Rescued, my ass," Faith counters teasingly, and I can almost see those eyebrows being raised, "if it weren't for me, blondie, you wouldn't have been out of that cage."
I find myself falling short of a quip and frown.
"Damn," I say with a grin, "ain't much to say to that."
"Damn straight," Faith replies, hooking her arm in mine and following the Guard out with a slight limp.
Snape lurks in the background, somehow managing to inch behind us and bring up the rear as we troop out of the underground sewerage slash dungeon we are in. The lights from the Guard's wands flash over the curved walls, and the small puddles of murky water that we pass.
Tonks is walking in front with me, along with two other Aurors. Slipping my arm out of Faith's, I give a slight nod towards the aqua-blue haired girl. I watch as Faith limps off towards her, striking a conversation about her hair, but not without a sharp questioning glance to me first. Ignoring the look, I slow down my pace and find myself walking by Snape.
"How'd you find us?" I say while dodging a big puddle of grimy water.
"I was the one that followed you during that vampire attack," he says quietly, "but I didn't reach the area until the Death Eater had taken you. I found your piece of paper."
With that, he reaches into the left hand pocket of his robes, pulling out the now grubby piece of paper.
"We managed to find the house, but there were only a few girls there. Potentials, they said?" he turns to me with an inquiring look.
"Slayers in training," I reply offhandedly, wanting to know more about how they reached this sewer.
"Well they pointed out the cemetery that Faith was going to patrol, and when we arrived, we found a crypt with the door slightly ajar. In fact, it's the one we're standing in now."
Looking around, I'm surprised at how fast we've reached the top. Cobwebs filter the place, and a thick layer of dust lies in the air. It's nothing like Spike's...
"There were only a few Death Eaters blocking the way," Snape continues, abruptly stopping my train of thought, "it seems that you weren't heavily guarded."
"Yeah, what do you need Grim Reapers for when you've got indestructible cages?" I comment sarcastically, "the latest technology: no more manual labour!"
Snape chuckles loudly at this and I realise that it's the first time I've heard him laugh. It's odd, actually...sounds foreign coming from his mouth. Now that we're in the cemetery, heading out towards the main road, I can see that some of the stern wrinkles across his brow have panned out.
We continue to walk in silence, but I can hear catches of Faith's conversation in front, with the occasional "Hell cool!" being exclaimed.
The clench in my chest has lessened heaps, and I know that we're on the outskirts of the Hellmouth without even seeing the bus sign in the distance. At the pace we're going, we reach the deserted bus stop in no time.
When we touch the wooden box, I instantly hear Faith's yell of "What the f – " when the tug in my navel yanks me back to the kitchen of Number 12, where I have to catch Faith from stumbling.
"Can we do it again?" she asks with a grin as she places some weight on her wounded leg.
I see that we've landed in the exact same spot that we left, only a few hours ago. Sirius is still sitting on the kitchen table, panting slightly, but his eyes widen and glaze over when he catches sight of Faith. Once he catches Faith's attention, a slight predatory smile works its way across her face as she tries to saunter over.
Unfortunately, the limp in her leg causes her to stumble slightly, and she curses. In a flash, Sirius is there, helping her up and steadying her. Putting one arm across her back, he helps her onto the table, where Faith gives me the slowest wink in history.