Chapter Twenty
Author's Note: Once again, I find myself apologizing for the long absence. My mom was diagnosed with cancer and I moved home to take care of her. She passed away, shortly followed by my dog, who'd also been diagnosed with cancer around the same time. So, writing has been… tough, to say the least. But I'm trying to find my groove again, so thank any of you that are still showing up and haven't given up on me.
Chapter Twenty
Bal stared blankly ahead, the instrument panel of the ship just a blurry spattering of lights as the ship made its way back to Coruscant. He'd known this was stupid. He'd fucking known it, but he did it anyway. Because he was a greedy fuck.
No, I thought I could keep her safe.
That was worse.
And Alec…
He resisted the urge to put his fist through the control panel, but the urge to put it through Maul was growing greater by the second. He'd warned him not to come back without her and what did he do? Came the fuck back without her and with Alec dangling limply from his arms.
He hadn't even known the kid left.
It was the woman, Shmi, that kept him from murdering Maul where he'd stood when they'd arrived at the dock. She'd given him the passphrase that the people Buffy'd sent to him in Feral City had given, so he'd know they were from her.
"She also said to tell you that it's no one's fault but her own," Shmi had told him, a grimace on her own face. "She said not to worry, that she'd figure it out and for us to go, but then…"
Bal hadn't wanted to know what "then" had entailed, but the apologetic look on her face told him anyway. The fight inside him had shriveled and he'd just gone inside to get them the fuck off that forsaken planet. He'd stayed hidden in there the entire flight, ignoring the urge to check on Alec; to beat Maul bloody; to get details on what exactly had happened out there.
"Why would she do this?"
It took him a second to realize he hadn't spoken the question out loud to himself, it had come from the shadowed doorway behind him. Forcing himself not to tense up, he swung his chair around to face Maul.
"Because she's a selfless little idiot," he growled out, voice rough after not having used it the entire trip back. "How's the kid?"
"Still unconscious, but stable," Maul answered, sliding into the co-pilot's chair.
Bal bristled at the sight of the bastard in what he'd started to consider Buffy or Alec's chair, but kept his mouth shut for the moment.
"Selfless…" Maul said slowly, as if feeling out the word.
"Yeah, that thing you do where your actions are for someone else's benefit instead of your own?"
"You sound like her."
The salty words died on his lips as the reality of the situation really crashed into him. He'd never see her again. No more quips and sarcasm and reckless stunts. No more seeing the world through a slightly brighter, more optimistic lens. No more softening of his own sharp, cynical edges. The world was back to being the piece of shit he always knew it was. Better off facing reality.
He straightened his chair and resumed control of the ship with hands that had a slight tremor, taking it into Coruscant airspace and avoiding looking at Maul.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "She rubs off on you."
Maul made a noncommittal noise, but Bal knew she'd rubbed off on him, too. Why else would some rogue Jedi assassin join a rescue mission for a slave? Why would he make sure that slave and an injured child got away to safety? Because Buffy got in his head. In his heart. Just like she had his own.
"She was more than a little crazy, violent as hell and a brat most of the time, but…" Bal shook his head, not even sure why he was saying this out loud. "She was good. Maybe not what a Jedi would consider 'good', but good in a real kind of way. That really rare kind of way. She wanted to make things better. No matter where she was, she wanted to make things better. If that meant she had to kick some ass or blow some shit up, she was fine with it, but it was always with that goal in mind. It was fucking-"
The word 'stupid' died on his lips as his throat chose then to close, leaving an awkward silence as the ship docked and the engines powered down. Without another word, Bal stood and made his way to the rear of the ship. He couldn't hear Maul following, but he knew he was there, floating behind him like his own guilty conscious. As he stepped into the cargo hold, he nodded at Shmi's questioning look and she stood without comment. He looked away as she scooped up Alec's motionless body.
"Then I can count on your assistance to retrieve her?"
"Retrieve her?" Bal said, stumbling over his own feet and yanking the ramp lever down in the process.
He spun to look at Maul as the air from Coruscant gusted in, ruffling Maul's clothes but not his expression.
"I thought she was… You mean retrieve… her body?"
"She is not dead. But I'm not sure I'll be able to get him to believe that," Maul replied, eyes sliding past Bal's shoulder as he nodded his head toward now open cargo door.
Bal turned to see a figure waiting on the platform, a dark robe buffeted by the air of passing ships but the raised hood stayed firmly in place. Bal sucked in a sharp breath at the glimpse of yellow within just before their lightsaber ignited.
Buffy stared at her own tombstone in bafflement.
"She saved the world a lot? They put that on my-?"
She stopped. Was this her grave? If it was, was she even in her own world? She'd had her own body when she'd woken in Coruscant, so what would they have buried? Was any of this real at all?
She leaned back against the tombstone and pushed her hair out of her face with a shaking, bleeding hand, causing grave dirt to tumble over her shoulders. That had been… not great. Pretty horrific actually. No wonder vampires were so crabby when they rose – digging your way out of your own grave was probably top 3 worst experiences of her life.
She pushed away the memory of no air and pressing walls and tried to remember what the hell had happened. She had been on Tattooine… Why, why had she- Oh! Shmi! It all rushed back then. Jabba and Maul and-
Alec.
She got up jerkily, stumbling a little from both shaky muscles and from wearing pumps in the grass.
Pumps? They buried me in pumps?
She had to move. She had to figure out what had happened and how to get an update on Alec. Jabba's blaster must've been set to stun, or Alec would've been dead and he hadn't been. For one horrible second she'd thought he was, but… Anyway, she'd assumed when she saw Jaba was going to shoot her as well that she'd wake up in a cell or on a chain like Shmi. So, what the hell was this? Maybe they drugged her? Or it was just a super vivid dream?
A remembered feeling of creeping cold, a texture like wet sand sliding up her body. She shook her head and pushed the disturbing memory away – whatever that was, she'd had her fill of trauma for the night, that could wait for another time.
She moved through the shadows of a town that was both her Sunnydale and not at the same time. It was like a bizzarro world version of Sunnydale, apparently run by a demonic biker gang from what she'd seen so far. It certainly seemed like dream material. The Cheese Man could pop out at any second and she'd only be relieved and not at all surprised.
What bothered her wasn't so much what she saw, it was what her senses were telling her. While Slayer dreams could be pretty damned immersive, this was a little much. She could feel the heat off of the fires burning around town and the dew from the grass brushing her ankles. The texture of the rough bricks passed under her fingers as she crept down a deserted street and the smell of sulfur and ash tickled her nose.
So, if this wasn't a dream, what the hell was it?
The sight of her own drawn and quartered body was about the end of her mental and emotional strength for the day. Even the realization that it was the Buffybot didn't ease the slowly climbing white noise in her brain.
What the hell was this? What was she going to do? This wasn't home… Where was home?
"Buffy-"
She stopped in her tracks, and looked around hopefully. That voice… she swore she heard-
"I can feel- don't know- will find you!"
"Obi Wan?"
Her voice sounded so small and frail even to her own ears, but the response was immediate.
"Yes! Gods yes! -can hear you! Wh-"
His voice faded in and out, like there was a bad signal. She spun in a slow circle, knowing he wasn't there but unable to stop herself from looking.
" -uffy? -know where- What's going-"
She swallowed hard, the memory of that wet itchy feeling over her body followed by the coffin and the city on fire and the Buffybot-
"We'll find you! Don't give- will find you!"
As his voice faded out again she found herself on her knees on the sidewalk, a hand clutched in the material of the dress at her chest as it heaved and she cried. But.. it had been Obi Wan, right?
Swallowing down the rest of her panic and tears, she stood. She wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't, but sitting on the ground crying hadn't ever been her style. She needed to get-
Her head cocked to the side as a yell reached her ears from an alley close by. A very familiar yell…
"Xander?"
