Thanks for reading, peeps.
Between a Rock and Faith
Chapter 2
Buffy stared at Faith, too exhausted to make any sort of response.
Faith walked closer, swaying her hips back and forth. "You have fun? Meet people?"
Buffy continued to stare, feeling quite dead inside.
"What's a matter, Bee? Rough first day?"
"What is this place?" Buffy said for what felt like the thousandth time.
To Buffy's surprise, Faith answered her. "Here?" she said. "This is where they lock up all the dangerous animals and run tests on them."
"I'm not an animal."
Faith shrugged. "You know that, and I know that, but they don't know that. Couple of Slayers like us? They think we're demons or something. Mutant vampires. They're trying to figure us out." Faith took another step closer, a look of curiosity on her face. "Here, let me see what they did to ya."
Against her better judgment, Buffy unfolded her legs to expose her stomach, where there were eight bright red scars, swollen and raised above her skin. Buffy touched one of them as softly as she could with her fingertips and almost started crying.
"Eh, that's not so bad," Faith said, turning to face the glass.
After the hours of agony, Buffy was almost offended. "They strung me up by my wrists and cut into me."
"Could be worse."
"They jammed chemicals into my gaping wounds!"
Faith whirled around, her forehead scrunched in disbelief. "You looking for sympathy from me? I've had it a thousand times worse, babe, and I'm still standing. If you know what's good for you, you'll toughen up and start trying to come up with an escape plan."
After taking a few deep breaths, Buffy realized Faith was right. This sucked big time, but she needed to keep her head on straight.
"Have you tried to escape?" Buffy said.
"Me?" Faith said. "Nope. Haven't thought of any good plans yet."
"What about when the soldier guys come to get you? What about trying to escape then?"
Faith laughed, a bitter, unhappy sound. "Zzzzz! They'll hit you with a tazer that leaves your hands and feet numb for a week. I would not get the firsthand experience if I were you."
Buffy struggled to sit up, her body still slow from being drugged. "Do they always drug you when they take you out of here?" She thought she might be able to put up a fight if she weren't under the influence of whatever they'd injected her with.
"Yep. Either that or you're strapped down the whole time."
Buffy shook her head. "So how are we supposed to escape?"
Faith crossed her arms over her chest. "You giving up that easy? Aren't you supposed to be made of tougher stuff than that?"
"I don't see how I'm supposed to get out of here when I'm either in a cage, drugged, or strapped down the entire time! And I don't see you coming up with any grand ideas."
"Well, I'm not really known for my brains, am I, Bee? I was hoping you'd be able to see something I didn't."
Buffy took a long, deep breath, held it in her chest, and let it out slowly. "I think the one guy might be willing to help us. The young one. Riley."
Faith shook her head. "Nope."
"What do you mean, no?"
"I mean, he's not going to help you. That guy is totally under the professor's thumb. He might seem like he's 'hurting inside' as he shoves a tube down your nose, but he's not going to do anything she doesn't want him to."
"How do you know?"
Faith shrugged. "Instinct."
"I think you're wrong. I think I can get him to help us."
Faith walked up to Buffy and stroked her cheek in a way that Buffy didn't much appreciate. "So very young and naive. It's a crap world, my dear, and no one's gonna help you out of the kindness of their heart. If you're going to survive in here, you'd better accept that right now."
Faith stretched her arms above her head and cracked her neck, then sunk down onto the floor and seemed to go to sleep. Unable to think of anything else to do, and deathly tired, Buffy wrapped her arms around her legs and drifted off, too. She had no idea if it was day or night.
####
The next few days were awful.
It seemed like every few hours Buffy was swept away to the operating room, where she was subjected to things she didn't even have a name for. She'd been forced to lift heavier and heavier objects, until her muscles ached so badly she'd collapsed. She'd had a knife plunged into her calf and left there, so the professor could watch the Slayer's flesh heal around it. She'd even had strange fluids poured down her nose because Professor Walsh wanted to see if Buffy could digest them, an incident that left Buffy throwing up for hours. The Slayer might have been able to handle the physical pain, if it wasn't for the humiliation of being treated like an animal instead of a human being.
After having been stripped naked by soldiers and hosed down, Buffy was brought back to her cell feeling so dead inside she thought she'd never feel anything again. She immediately sunk down against the wall and put her head between her knees, squeezing the fabric of her pants inside her fists.
"Get up." Faith's voice was hard.
Buffy didn't bother to answer, or even lift her head.
"You hear me, Bee? Up. Off the ground."
When Buffy didn't respond again, Faith grasped her by the shoulders and jolted her to her feet, slamming her against the wall. Buffy gasped in surprise. Hands still clutching Buffy's shoulders painfully, Faith's face was contorted with rage.
"When I say get up, you get up," Faith spat.
Buffy couldn't bring herself to muster a response, the deadness inside her too great. Then Faith slapped her across the face, a lightning-fast gesture that made Buffy's cheek explode with pain. Furious, Buffy took a swing at her, but Faith ducked out of the way and swept Buffy off her feet with a kick to the shins. Buffy slammed against the ground, but whipped to her feet so quickly that Faith was taken off guard, and Buffy whacked her in the face. Faith staggered backwards, clutching her cheek.
"Ow," Faith said.
"What the hell?" Buffy threw up her hands.
Faith took her hand away from her face and smiled. Her right eye was already swelling. "Great punch."
"Christ, Faith. It's bad enough I get to be Professor Walsh's favorite guinea pig all day long, then I've got to come back here and fight with you?"
"So you're angry?"
Buffy shook her head. "Of course I'm angry. I'm sick of this. I don't deserve this. I'm the good guy, and I'm getting treated like some kind of creature. I want to go home."
Faith crossed her arms. "Oh, really? Because a few minutes ago it looked like you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. You can't let it get to you, Bee. You want to get out of here, you've got to stay sharp, stay alert, and keep looking for ways to get out."
"I don't see you coming up with anything!"
"I told you, I'm no good at this stuff. I'm not a planner, never have been, and if we're gonna get out of here we're gonna need a plan. So tell me, have you been coming up with one, or have you just been throwing yourself a pity party these past few days?"
Buffy put her fingers to her temples and rubbed. She hadn't come up with anything, because there wasn't anything to come up with. As far as she could tell, there was no way out of this place.
"I've got nothing." She shook her head. "Except getting Riley to help us. If I could only talk to him alone for a few minutes-
"Stop right there. We've talked about this. He is not going to help you, not no way, not no how."
"You don't know that."
"Fine then. Prove me wrong. You won't, but go ahead and try. Maybe when he tells you no freaking way and shoves some anesthesia in your vein you'll finally start coming up with a different plan."
The next day, Buffy was relieved when the professor didn't drug her, because this meant she had full facility of her mind, and was on the lookout for a chance to talk to the young, tan-faced soldier. Unfortunately, it was a strapped-to-the-gurney day, and the Professor had already removed Buffy's shirt. She wondered with morbid curiosity what was in store for her, praying all the while that she would be left alone with Riley.
Almost like the heavens had heard her, the professor and the Russian exited the room in a flurry of conversation. Riley met Buffy's gaze for a split second before turning away.
"Riley," Buffy said. "Please. I know you're not like them. You've got to help me get out of here."
The soldier said nothing, though Buffy saw his throat bulge as he swallowed hard.
"I'm not an animal," Buffy said. "I'm a girl. I take classes. I have a mother. Please."
Before Riley could respond, the professor burst back into the room with a metal object in her hands, like a robotic spider. The Russian followed her, holding a metal tool that looked like oversized pliers. Buffy gulped, gazing at Riley. He continued to face the other direction, though his fists were clenched at his sides.
"Riley!" Buffy cried. "Help me, please!"
The professor whirled to face her, disgusted. "What on Earth do you think you're doing, Hostile 33?" She turned to face Riley, who was staring at his feet. The professor watched him for a few seconds, her eyes narrowing as she registered his anxiety. "Riley," she demanded, "administer the probe."
The soldier lifted his face, his eyes wide.
"Do it, soldier," the professor snapped.
After a few moments of hesitation, Riley walked to Russian and took the oversized pliers from his hands. Then he approached Buffy. She looked at him pleadingly. But he merely looked her in the eyes and shook his head.
"No!" Buffy shrieked.
He jammed his fingers into her mouth and pried open her jaw, then put the tips of the pliers against her tongue and the roof of her mouth. He forced the pliers open and locked them in place, leaving Buffy's mouth ajar. The metal was sour on her tongue.
Professor Walsh handed him the spider, and he lifted it to her mouth. Buffy's eyes widened. It was the size of a gum ball, with eight metal legs sticking out. Riley fiddled with the spider and the legs began to wiggle. Buffy screamed so loud her voice cracked.
Riley dropped the spider onto her tongue and it wriggled into her throat. She gagged, but it crawled in further, until she could feel it moving down in her esophagus, descending into her stomach. When it got there Buffy felt a sharp stab of pain, and she cried out.
Riley stood up straight and faced the other way. After looking at him in a satisfied way, the professor snatched the pliers out of Buffy's mouth just in time for another jolt of pain in her stomach.
Buffy shrieked. "Why?"
The professor cocked her head, examining Buffy's face not like it was a whole entity, but looking at her mouth, then her nose, then her eyes. "Why? Because we need tissue samples, Hostile 33. I'd be perfectly fine with cutting you open to get them, but unfortunately slicing into your organs would probably kill you, and we wouldn't want that, now, would we?" She smiled.
I'm a little disturbed at how easily my mind conjures evil science-lab goings-on. Oh well.