Chapter 2 – The Deeper Well
England, 2002
Giles paced back and forth in his study, occasionally pausing to sigh before changing direction. He finally settled in front of his desk and picked up the book he had been studying the past few days. He stared at the text for a few moments before mumbling something and taking a seat in the large brown leather chair that sat behind his desk. Spread out in front of him were numerous dictionaries and indexes for the ancient and forgotten languages, tomes of prophecies and magical knowledge, and several of his own notebooks, all filled with his own work in uncovering the mysteries of the arcane. None of them were doing him any good at the moment though. He had mounds of information about the Old Ones, but none of it was particularly helpful. All of his sources said the same thing, that the Old Ones could not be killed and had all left this plane millennia ago. Aside from the one prophecy Giles was still having trouble translating, there was no mention of their existence in their dimension for eons.
Giles started making more notes on one of the pads in front of him. He wasn't consulting any books, just working from his own ideas regarding the prophecy. He knew he shouldn't just guess at the meanings of things, or loosely interpret phrases. Translating something like this was like doing a very complicated puzzle. Giles should have heeded that before jumping to the conclusions about it that he did.
Buffy was sleeping now, in the arms of her lover. Spike watched her breathe, something he hadn't needed to do for more than a century. Her scent filled the room, so he had been breathing for the fun of it, soaking it in. When she was with him he was content. It was her smell, and the taste of her skin, and the things she did that really drove him wild. His thoughts were briefly interrupted by the faint scent of something nearby but as quickly as it had come it had passed.
Xander, Anya, Willow, and Tara trudged through the graveyard in no particular order, each with weapons at the ready. 'At the ready' didn't necessarily mean that should the time come, the weapons would be terribly useful to the untrained group, but at least they looked ready for trouble.
"So, umm, w-whats the plan here?" Tara stuttered quietly.
"Just, uh, look for it" Xander replied, wondering if that actually WAS the best plan he could think of.
"Isn't that ALWAYS the plan with us?" Willow offered optimistically.
"Usually we wait for Buffy, and let her do all the work for us." Anya said flatly. Xander glared at Anya for a moment, but she wasn't paying attention. Anya started again. "Buffy is good at tracking, and good at killing things, and she can sense where bad things hide, and she's super strong, and-"
"ANYA!" Xander cut her off. "We all know that Buffy is great at everything. But she's not here, so we'll have to get along without her." Anya silently pouted for a moment. They started off for the next area of the cemetery.
"She's not good at EVERYTHING" Anya mumbled. "I mean, her relationships always go bad, and she dropped out of college, and she has a crappy job, and..."
Dawn sat in a ball on the couch alone in her house. The TV was on, but she hadn't been watching it. She was pouting slightly because she hadn't been allowed to go patrolling with the others, but she was somewhat used to it by now, and wasn't particularly angry about it. On the coffee table in front of her were all of the books that she could find in the house that might have some relevance to the threat at hand. The best she had come up with were vague references to the destruction and death caused by old ones. She hadn't even found a reference to any particular one at all. After an hour of fruitless searching she began to think about her situation. How safe could she possibly be alone at home? This new danger wasn't a vampire. It wouldn't wait outside for her. This thing could come inside and get her. Wouldn't she be much safer with the rest of the gang, even if they were out looking for the Old One? It didn't take Dawn more than a moment to make up her mind about what to do next. She walked up the stairs and into her room. At the foot of her bed laid the trunk where she kept her favorite weapons. She pulled out a cross and stake and tucked them into her bag. She grabbed a crossbow and gave the trigger mechanism a quick look before standing up and heading out.
Buffy was cold. She stood in a stone room dimly lit by a single torch on the wall beside her. The occasional drip from the ceiling broke the silence and she could sense that she was underground. She exhaled, and her breath created a fog in front of her face. Through the fog emerged dark eyes and a familiar snarl.
"Spike" she whispered, and swiftly hit him in the face. She leapt into action, striking with poise and ease, countering his every attack. She thought for a moment that it was like ballet; the way that she flowed from offense to defense, the grace she controlled. She felt as though she knew all of the choreography; that she already knew all of the moves they would make. But something was wrong. She felt their fight building towards something, and she could tell that he sensed it too. Her confidence faded, and though she still seemed to have the upper hand she felt that he had taken control of their dance. She swung wide with her right hand and in an instant he was behind her, pinning her arms to her sides. As she felt fangs pierce her neck a wave of what she could only describe as relaxation rolled over her. She exhaled and her senses began to dim when suddenly she felt something dark awaken inside of her.
She gasped for air and awoke in Spike's crypt. She looked over at Spike, sleeping next to her. Her open eyes fixed on his closed. After a moment her fingertips cautiously ran over the base of her neck. She watched him as she quietly rose, dressed, and crept out the door.
Spike opened his eyes a moment before the door shut. He inhaled the remnants of her scent while he wondered what she had dreamt about, and silently wished that she would someday let him in.
Xander held Anya close as they walked through the graveyard. He could smell the moisture in the air and the perfume Anya wore. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, and felt her soft skin. He wondered for a moment how after so long a life she could still feel so soft. He wondered how she could be interested in someone like him, someone who had had so much less experience in life. He looked down at her and smiled. He didn't care about why it didn't make sense for them to be together. All that mattered was that they were together, and he would do anything to keep it that way.
"I love you so much" he whispered in her ear. She smiled and leaned in close to speak softly to him. Willow was mirroring Anya's actions to Tara, who was absently smiling and watching Anya and Xander. The four of them stood each having their own private little experiences, lost in their own worlds for a moment. On the other side of a statue a vampire crouched, watching his prey. He grinned maliciously as he thought to himself about the snack he was about to have.
"Never make the mistake of thinking no one is watching" he muttered to himself as he started to move on them.
"You should take your own advice" came the feminine voice behind him. He turned to see a teenaged girl, standing triumphantly with a crossbow pointed at him.
"Slayer" he grumbled as he slowly started back away.
"Worse" she started. "Dawn." As she pulled the trigger she hoped that he caught the wordplay she had used. She felt very clever equating herself to the deadly sunrise feared by all vampirekind. She felt less clever when her crossbow bolt flew wide, catching the vampire in the shoulder. He snarled in pain and muttered something vulgar as he rushed her.
Everyone's ears perked up when they heard a familiar yelp from the other side of a large statue. Xander rounded the corner first, brandishing his stake. The vampire was already on top of Dawn, and looked back just in time to see the stake swing down on him.
Dawn watched as the dust cleared to reveal Xander's disapproving glare.
"Ugh," she said as he helped her off the ground. "I got vamp dust in my mouth."
"What are you doing here Dawnie?" Willow said, concerned.
"I—" She started. "I didn't feel safe alone at home. I mean, whatever this, this thing that's out there doesn't have to be invited in, right? Wouldn't I be safer with you guys?"
"You'd be safer inside where any vampire can't just come get you. Like that one." Xander gestured to the dust on the ground. "Dawn, if anything had happened—" he started.
"I know, I know. But now, since I'm already here and everything…"
"Stay right next to me." Xander commanded. "And if there's any sign of danger, you stay between us."
"No problemo" Dawn said happily.
"Nice crossbow" Anya commented as they started off.
Giles sped down the freeway, sifting information in his head. He had come across repeated references to a place called the "Deeper Well". When he discovered that it was located so close he had immediately set off for it. After driving for less than an hour he pulled off the road, parked, and got out of his car. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a silver arrowhead decorated with runes.
He concentrated for a moment before commanding "Deeper Well!" Giles felt a surge of energy flow through him as he brought the arrowhead to life. It glowed blue as it lifted out of his hand, spun around for a moment, and then stopped abruptly, pointing just left of where Giles faced. He snatched it out of the air and started off in the new direction.
It wasn't ten minutes when he reached his goal. A large tree stood amidst the others, dark and wide. This was the entrance, he knew, but where was the door? He ran his fingers along the rough bark and exhaled. Suddenly the tree rumbled, and an opening began to grow at the base of the trunk.
"Oh!" he exclaimed to himself. "Excellent!" He peered into the now fully formed entrance to the Deeper Well to see a robed man with long brown hair, looking very startled. "Er—my name is Rupert Gi—" Before he could finish the man had whipped out a staff, thrown it with startling accuracy, and hit the ex-watcher in the head, knocking him unconscious.
When he awoke he was sitting on the floor against a wall in a dark room. His hands were bound. He slowly regained his wits, and remembered what had happened. Footsteps came from his left and the robed man came into view.
"Who are you?" The man demanded.
"Is this the Deeper Well?"
"This is a cave. And that is the last question you shall ever ask me. Now, tell me why you have come here." Giles spent a moment examining his captor. He looked young, but had a hardened face and deep eyes that spoke of years beyond his own. He decided, not really having much choice anyway, that he would cooperate.
"My name is Rupert Giles, and I have come to find the Deeper Well."
"Why do you seek the well?"
"I believe that an Old One has returned to these lands. I have come to find out anything about it I can." He thought for a moment that he actually didn't know what he had come for, specifically. He didn't have enough information to ask the right questions. He had hoped that he would find some information that would help aid Buffy, but whom he had found didn't seem to be particularly forthcoming in that department.
"You lie. The Old Ones sleep for eternity in the Deeper Well. Please, state your true business here, or I shall force it out of you."
"Ah—" started Giles, a little flustered. "I speak the truth. In my pocket is a book that speaks of an Old One, destined to arise in this time. I must find a way to stop it before it is too late!" The robed man reached into the Englishman's coat and pulled out the weathered journal.
"This belongs to the Council of Watchers. I entrusted it to them many years ago. I sense you are no thief… then, you must be with the council?"
"Well… not exactly. But please, will you help me find…" He paused for a moment. "Er— who are you?"
The man glared at him. He reached to his side and grabbed a knife from it's sheath. He swung it quickly, and in a flash Giles' hands were free. The man stood and reached down his hand. "My name," he said, "is Drogan."