A/N: I'm really hoping I can get this to last more than my longest story, which happens to be nine chapters. How does a sequel sound?
(Chapter Six - - - - - - - - -)
Wesley watched as the sun's rays began to slowly go to bed. The sky was cloudy that night so there would be no light source for him whatsoever. It had only been one day and so much pain managed to fit in it. Before closing his eyes, Wesley pondered how long the ghost needed to grow strong again. He hoped it was less than a week.
The ghost was bored sitting in Wesley's head. He had searched every part of his new body's mind. So the ghost decided to show Wesley what happened to make him so angry. I mean, if he was going to take him over, the least he could do was show him why. . .
Wesley watched everything as a silent and invisible observer, which Wesley noticed wasn't much different than when he was awake. A middle aged couple lay sleeping in their beds.
The room smelled of roses and everything was old fashioned and clean. The man slept in a different bed than the woman, yet they were in the same room. The woman sat up from her bed and stretched, lighting a candle shortly after.
The man woke up when the floor creaked.
"Victor. . . Shhh. . ." the woman put her finger to her lips and explained in French that she was getting a drink of water. She crept downstairs and all was silent until there was a loud bang and clatter in the kitchen. The woman screamed and Victor shot out of bed and grabbing the old gun from his closet, disregarding his robe.
He stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen where he saw his wife on the floor, one of their knives used to chop food awkwardly slammed into her chest. A man all dressed in black had a sack over his shoulder filled with Victor's goods. He didn't look back and bolted out of the house.
Victor ignored the man and the urge to chase after him and collapsed on his knees beside his dying wife.
"Nicole. . ." he sobbed and held her head on his lap.
"Je suis désolé, Victor, mon amour. . vengez ma mort." Nicole instructed Victor to avenge her death. She took one last sharp intake of breath and died. Victor sobbed and swore under his wife's death he would find the man who murdered her.
Two days later, he slit his own throat.
Wesley flicked his eyes open, but only for a moment to realize the sun was coming up again. Having nothing else to do, he closed his eyes and slept. He slept on and off the rest of the day and the last dream he had jolted him awake so hard he fell out of the chair.
His glasses cracked on the left side and he cursed, before talking the ghost.
"So, uh. Victor? What's taking so long?" Wesley waited for the pain to come and come it did. He figured he never would get used to it. Victor impatiently explained he was very old and this was his first time. Victor told Wesley to give him at least until 10:00 pm that night, maybe more or less. Wesley hoped he could wait that long.
(-------)
Willow and Giles spent the whole rest of the day collecting materials for the spell. Buffy and Xander took the extra time to catch up on sleep, though Buffy still couldn't shake what Willow had said. He's not Spike. He's not me. He's not you, Buffy. He's a god damn human. Buffy knew everything she said was true.
Buffy never really knew true abandonment. In her last high school, she had numerous friends for awhile and Giles had always been there for her. Willow's mother never really supported her and her only true friend the whole time was Xander. What did she do when he was sick? Who did she wish she could be?
She slept fitfully and tossed and turned constantly on the guest bed Giles let her sleep on. Xander offered to sleep on the couch saying he could sleep through anything. Xander didn't seem as bothered by what Willow had said, but he did admit she hadn't been on a rant like that for over three years.
When Buffy awoke again, it was almost midnight and she felt a body next to her. Willow had collapsed after a day of running around and magic on any available bed. Buffy smiled at her best friend and closed her eyes once more, slowly drifting off to dreamland.
(------)
Wesley had waited and, if his watch was still working, it was exactly midnight. He couldn't take it anymore. He finally realized what he had gotten himself into and wanted out. Wesley no longer cared about Victor's private soap opera. His private tragedy.
He wanted Victor out. And he wanted him out now. Wesley pulled himself up and nearly tripped over his coat that he had discarded a while ago. He stumbled his way over to what felt to be a desk and he blindly opened a drawer.
His luck, if you would call it luck at all, struck a pot of gold when he felt something cold and metallic in his hand. He lifted the knife out of the drawer and didn't bother to close it as she stumbled back to the chair again. He paused in thought, the sharp edge of the knife poised over where he assumed his vein was.
Did he really want to die just to get the ghost out? He thought about how the people he trusted abandoned him, or how he thought they abandoned him, and he made up his mind. He closed his eyes as he made the first cut.
(------)
Buffy could sleep no longer and she quickly jumped out of the bed only to see Willow had disappeared. The clock read 12:10 am and Buffy wondered if Willow went to the bathroom or if something was going on. She made her way downstairs to see everyone pulling on his or her coats.
"Oh, Buffy. I was about to send Willow up to get you." Giles pulled a pair of old leather gloves on.
"What's going on?" Buffy questioned surveying the scene in front of her.
"None of us could really sleep so we decided to try the spell to open the door now and do what we need to do. Besides, who could sleep with the way you were snoring?" Willow smiled.
"I mean, I heard you all the way down here!" Xander nodded along and Buffy smiled peaceably at her friends, still able to make jokes at such a time and state of emotion. Buffy snatched up her coat and tugged it on.
"Let's do this." She started for the door, closely followed by Willow, Xander, and finally Giles. "Let's save Wesley." Buffy paused in the doorway and turned to her friends. "I don't snore."
(------)
Wesley couldn't recall how he managed to curl himself so tightly into the corner as he did. He tried to ignore the blood soaking his sleeves and knew he would really know it was his if he could actually see it. He strangely couldn't recall how it all started. He couldn't even remember the day.
He let his eyes pool with tears before his face became red with remembrance. He felt like such a fool for falling for such a childish prank. He just wanted it fit in. He sobbed and never felt so alone and abandoned in his life.
Victor was finally strong enough and he realized in horror what Wesley had done. The ghost felt himself slipping out and yelled the only thing that came to mind.
"LAISSEZ-MOI DEDANS!
LAISSEZ-MOI DEDANS!
LAISSEZ-MOI DEDANS! . . .!"
Wesley sobbed in despair, having no idea the Scoobies were working feverishly outside to save his life. Wesley clutched his hands over his ears and heard the Victor whisper "I will not let you get away. . ." in French before he blacked out.
All I have the energy to say is: 1) Bum. . . bum . . .bum and 2) please R&R! Chapter Seven is coming as soon as I move my aching butt around a little. . . XD