Lyrics belong to Jimmy Eat World from "Pain"
:I never thought I'd
Walk away from you
I did
But it's a false sense
Of accomplishment
Every time I trip:
Buffy's POV
I duck down behind the dumpster with Angel, reminded of night after night spent like this. Now that's a romantic history if you ever heard one, huh? Still his smell somehow takes me back.
I shake my head, Faith. Faith is the one I am romantic with now. Yup, just Faith, no reminicing.
"Team blue, do you copy?" Angel repeated urgently, snapping me back to the present. Nothing but static on the otherside of the walkie talkie. Angel shook his head. "They're gone."
"Oh yeah, this is high jinx," I said under my breath. He gave me a grimace that I could almost mistake for a smile.
"What's the plan? We going home, rounding up back up?" He asked.
"Maybe something a little bigger than a ten unit?" I asked.
"Maybe," and now it was a grin. "Or maybe we could just go in, guns blazzing western style."
"And get ourselves killed in the process?"
"I like the little lady's plan," we spun as one, both staring up at Spike at the corner of the dumpster. We stood quickly, facing him. "Course I could always count on Buffy for the really good stuff. The best bits of action," he winked.
"Ewe," really I could think of no more complete response than that.
"Oh, come on, Love, where's my hug?" He opened his arms wide, and Angel swung at him. Quicker almost then I could follow Spike caught his arm, twisting, and shoving the arm up. Angel only let a little hiss of pain out as his fingertips brushed the nape of his neck.
"Duck!" I called, Angel tipped his head forward, I kicked high, clearing his head and catching the side of Spike's head. He went down, clutching the side of his head, Angel spinning out of his grasp, shaking his arm
to work the pain out.
I followed up my kick with two quick punches, knocking his head first one direction, then the other. He whipped his foot around, knocking me on my ass, I barely rolled away in time to avoid his crushing blow to my face. I heard a solid connection, and knew Angel had landed a hit. But before I could push myself to my feet, Angel landed face to the pavement next to me.
"Angel," I cried, jumping to my feet, and dodging two quick punches. I caught the second, but Spike spun, pulling himself from my grasp. "Angel," I called again, but no response.
"You're boy's out cold. What are you going to do slayer?" Spike laughed obnoxiously, kicking out, I tried to dodge, but it caught just the side of me. I slammed into the wall, biting my lip; I tasted the copper of blood, and also felt its warmness running from some new cut on my forehead.
I was stunned for only a second, but that was all the time he needed. Spike grabbed me, pressing my arms to my sides; he forced my head into the wall. Once, and I struggled, trying to kick back at him. Twice, and I went limp. Three times, and the world went black.
When I came to I found myself wrapped in chains, tied to a steel support beam. My hands were twisted up behind the pole, pulled as far around as they could go, and secured there. My shoulders were stretched to their limit, and throbbed painfully; my head was humming a similar tune.
"Ah, you're awake then," Spike stepped out of the shadows, into the glow from the streetlight. "Like the new digs?"
"Classy," I looked around, we were in some warehouse, probably the one we had been sitting outside of.
"Yeah, well, I'm just passing through really, it doesn't have to be much," he shrugged.
"Where's Angel?" I asked.
"Oh, him?" Spike strolled forward; something he pulled from behind his back glinted in the light. "Well he's right here," he tipped a glass jar over my head, dust settling over me; I coughed, accidentally inhaling some.
"Liar," I screamed, fighting against the chains, which only bit in deeper.
"Take a deep breath," he spoke lowly, leaning in close. "Taste him."
I only glared, using all my will to hold back tears. I couldn't actually taste him, but I knew it wasn't a lie. Angel was dead.
"Now, you and I are going to have some fun." He let the jar drop, it shattered, and he bent grabbing the largest piece. "I want you to notice how small the cuts are, how many I can make without you passing out."
I tried to squirm away, but there was really no where to go as he sliced me again and again. He worked my face first, every once in a while leaning forward to lick along the freshest of the cuts. It all stung like hell, each cut beginning to feel like it was on fire, but I stayed silent.
"Where's the cheerful banter?" Spike leaned back, looking me over; he ran a thumb across my cheek, smearing blood and dirt into the cuts.
"I don't start the banter till it gets painful," I answer, shaking my head to get the hair off my face.
"Must be getting painful then, since that sounded a lot like banter," he smiled, punching me across the face. My head lulled for a minute from the force of the punch. I wasn't sure for a second if I would be able to lift it again.
"Now, don't go passing out on me, love. Where's that slayer constitution?" He lifted my head, my eyes drifted into focus. "That's better then. I think we'll start with the fingers."
This time I couldn't help but scream.
Faith's POV
I opened the mini-fridge in my room, taking out a bottle of vodka, and pouring myself a shot. I downed it, started to put away the vodka, then decided to pour another. I walked back onto the balcony climbing back on the ledge with every intention to sip at the liquor. I downed the second shot.
"Jiya! I've made my decision," I called into the empty night, feeling more than a little dumb yelling into the night. Especially when there was no response.
"Abra cadabra? Is there a magic lamp I am supposed to rub or something? A wardrobe to walk through to get to you?" Still no answer. I sat quietly for a minute, staring down at my empty glass, wishing I had the will to fill it again.
"I just want to get this over with," I could feel tears warming my eyes now, I dropped my head into my hands. "Please just let me get this over with."
"What's your decision then?"
Buffy's POV
When I came to I was in worse pain than I have ever been in my life. I was now only chained to the pole around my waist, sitting on the stone floor, hands in my lap. When I looked at them I felt consciousness roll under me again, all but my ring fingers were gone. Spikes voice brought me back from the verge of blacking out.
"Didn't know which one Angel put the ring on, thought it might be important to you.
"Ass," I wheezed.
"Aww, with the compliments now are we? I'm going to blush." My head rolled in lew of a response, and I fought to bring it up again.
"What's next then, boss," I forced a grin, and again he punched me. I spit, seeing blood spray out, I smiled at him again, knowing it was a bloody smile, this time he smiled back.
"Well, next I was actually thinking a little acid burns. I know its a little new age, but still fun." He leaned down, picking up one of those science beakers with the small neck. He pulled the cork, and I swear I saw something smoke out of it.
"On second thought, it would probably hurt a bit on those open wounds," he pointed to my fingers, well now my hands. "I'll just fix those up quick. He walked around behind me; I didn't have the energy to twist to see what he was doing.
"No," I cried when he stepped back into view, hot iron in hand. I tried to squirm around the pole, but he grabbed my hand tightly, then got an even firmer grip on my arm, pulling it to him.
"It'll only hurt for, well, a while hopefully." He brought the iron to my hand, searing my middle and pointer finger, then the thumb, and pinkey. I screamed, good god I screamed bloody murder, then I passed out for a few seconds as he did the other hand.
The feeling of my arm on fire woke me. I looked at my arm, expecting to see flames, all I saw was water. But it wasn't water, it was the acid, and as I watched it ate its way through a few layers of skin. After everything so far I was surprisingly numb to this. It dawned on me that my body was probably starting to go into shock. Especially when he poured more on the other arm. The pain wasn't more than an itch.
"No screaming?" I could hear the disappointment in his voice. "Time to move on then. I nodded in agreement, not sure why, mostly I was beyond reason I thought. I noticed with some sick amusement white bone showing through on my arm.
"You think so to? Well than I'm thinking our games are almost over. I have to say I expected you to last longer. I nodded again. I had expected to last longer to. He said something else, but I had blacked out again.
Faith's POV
I spun around to face her, standing in the middle of the balcony. She smiled.
"Sorry to startle you. But you called. What's your decision?"
I glared at her; I hated her, everything about her. "You're supposed to be all powerful aren't you? You can change my whole life in an instant, and you don't know what my decision is? Can't read minds?"
"I never said I was all powerful. The power I have is little compared to others. I only change one simple thing, one tiny aspect of a persons life, everything else is just a result of that change. Sometimes the results are little, and sometimes they are huge. It all depends on the choice."
"I want everything to go back to normal," I tell her, eyes closed, teeth clamped.
"You want your movies, family, and fame?" she asked, already stepping towards me when I opened my eyes. She paused, hand inches away from my forehead as she waited for my response. "Yes!" I thought, "that is exactly what I want."
"I want to go back, to whatever was normal before my wish, before the fame, before the money." She hesitated for only a moment before her fingers gently touched my forehead.
"As you wish," the world spun before me, slowly fading to black.
Buffy's POV
The world swam back into focus once again, the ground far below me. I glanced right, then left, railroad spikes had been driven through my wrists and were holding me to the wall. I tried to move my legs, thinking maybe I could pull myself free; at least dying of blood loss would be better then whatever Spike had planned.
My feet wouldn't move.
I looked down to see one long spike driven through my feet, fresh blood trickling down the wall.
"Awake again, finally," Spike spoke from below; tilting my head left I could just see him. He backed up, coming more clearly into view.
"What are you doing?" I meant to say it loudly, to scream and curse, and show him I was still fighting. It barely came out a whisper.
"I'm going to show you how fun this little device of yours can be," he lifted my crossbow from his side. He must have found it by the dumpster. "I'm telling you, it's a whole new toy when you're on the receiving end."
He lifted it, taking his time to aim just right. It registered he was aiming for my heart. I'm sure he saw some sort of poetic justice in that. Then world began to spin again, and as it faded to black I thanked god for small favors. The bolt from the cross bow would still kill me, but I wouldn't feel it.