Between a Rock and Faith
Chapter 4
Things were much the same for the next few days, each morning bringing a new horror in the operating room. Buffy tried to keep alert, to think of new ways to escape, but she couldn't deny how easy it would be to wrap her hands around the professor's throat and squeeze. Each time the woman stuck a needle in Buffy's arm, or put her hands in Buffy's mouth, or groped a muscle in her thigh, the Slayer felt closer to accepting Riley's offer. But something inside her refused to bend, refused to kill a human being. Enraged at Buffy's rigidity, Faith wouldn't even look at her.
One day Riley wasn't the only soldier in the operating room. Along with the Russian and Professor Walsh, there were five other soldiers Buffy had never seen before, hovering around her with emotionless faces. She wondered nervously why all the brute force was needed.
Then the Russian rolled a large tank of water into the room, a glass rectangle the size of a refrigerator and full of weird wires. Buffy took deep breaths, trying not to panic.
"Riley, put the mask on Hostile 33," ordered the professor.
His face hard and blank, Riley approached Buffy with a clear, plastic mask attached to a tank of gas. He clasped the mask to her face, and Buffy instantly felt cool air flow into her mouth. She breathed it and was relieved that it seemed to simply be oxygen.
"Put her in, boys," said the professor.
The soldiers grasped Buffy's arms and legs and, after unlatching her cuffs, lifted her into the air. Undrugged and unstrapped, Buffy kicked and flailed, but the weird mask impaired her view and there were six men clutching her. All at once, they hoisted her over their heads and dropped her into the tank feet first. She fell into the water, which turned out to be so cold that Buffy's heart went into overdrive. She tried to swim back to the surface, but someone plopped a lid on top, and her head banged against it. She was completely submerged, able to breathe solely through the mask. When she opened her eyes, she could see the Professor and the Russian just outside, taking notes.
At first, Buffy was relieved at the day's activity. Submerged in a tank of cold water? It was better than being stabbed, or injected with things, or made to swallow weird chemicals. Then the water got colder. And colder. Soon Buffy couldn't feel her hands, her feet, her legs, her arms. Her heart beat slower and slower. She screamed into the mask but couldn't hear anything. She hallucinated. She cried again.
Then the water got colder, and suddenly Buffy's legs and arms seemed to stop floating, seemed to be stuck in place. She was encased in ice, she realized. Professor Walsh had turned her into a popsicle. She tried to open her eyes but they were stuck shut.
Hours went by. She fell asleep and woke up. At one point she was certain she was dead, and was disappointed that heaven was dark and freezing. A day went by. Two days. She was starving and thirsty. She screamed again but the noise didn't seem to escape her own head.
Finally, things began to warm up. She realized at one point that her arms were moving again, that they weren't casted into place. Then she felt hands close around her wrists.
The feeling of being slammed down onto the gurney shocked Buffy, but it shocked her more when someone ripped the mask from her mouth. She gasped and coughed. She opened her eyes and saw that she was moving down the hall again. Soon she was back in her cell. She didn't move.
"Bee?"
She still didn't move. She was no longer encased in ice, but she was so cold. She wasn't sure her muscles could move. She wasn't sure her heart hadn't frozen along with her body.
Someone pressed up against her. This person was very warm, and Buffy couldn't help but lean into them. Arms wrapped around her and squeezed. Then she felt a soft hand over her heart.
"Your pulse is moving way too slow, Bee." Hands rubbed up and down Buffy's arms. "You've gotta warm up. Can you move?"
The hands grabbed Buffy's hands and clasped them together, warming them. But Buffy still couldn't feel her fingers.
"Those assholes."
The hands stroked her hair and pulled her closer, until Buffy felt completely cocooned by the warm body. It was Faith, Buffy realized. Faith must have been lying alongside her, pulling her against her body, wrapping her arms around her and rubbing her hands up and down her back. For some reason, Buffy almost cried again.
"Quit crying. It's over, alright? Toughen up." But Faith's hands were gentle as they rubbed up and down her arms, pushed her wet hair off her forehead. "Sheesh, Buffy, you have icicles in your hair."
Faith's hand touched Buffy's chest again. It rested there, making the frozen nerves on Buffy's skin prickle. "Your heart's still beating too slow. Don't go to sleep, alright?"
Almost the instant Faith said it, Buffy eyelids felt heavier. Sleep would be nice. Sleep would be warm. And at least she could escape this place in her dreams.
Faith shook her gently. "Hey! What'd I just say? Don't go to sleep! You wanna die today?"
Buffy jolted back into consciousness, though she didn't open her eyes. Sitting up, Faith pulled Buffy on top of her, stringing her arms under Buffy's arms and folding her hands on Buffy's chest, so she could feel her heart beating. Then Faith began kicking one leg up and down unpredictably, jerking both of their bodies each time.
"That's good and annoying. Sorry about that. I'm just trying to keep you awake."
Faith kept kicking, and her hands remained on Buffy's chest, feeling her heart beat. Every so often she would run her fingers through Buffy's hair, or stroke her wrist. And whenever she thought Buffy might be falling asleep, she started talking again.
"Let's see, let's see. I grew up in a city. With my Dad. I don't recommend either. Then again, you probably can't relate to the whole bad-childhood thing. You've got a nice house, a mother who loves you, friends. To be honest, I don't even like ya that much, Bee. I'm just doing this for all those people who love you." She took a deep breath, heaving both of their bodies up and down. "If I die, who cares? I'm a screw-up nobody gives a damn about. But you die and a lot of people are unhappy. So don't start thinking I like you or anything. This isn't about you."
Several hours went by like this. Then there was the sound of boots, and the sliding of the glass panel. Buffy still hadn't opened her eyes, or moved, and didn't do either of these things now.
"Get out of here," Faith snapped. "Can't you see you're gonna kill her?"
"Buffy." It was Riley's voice. He spoke very softly, like he was scared someone would hear. "You have to listen to me. She's going to cut into your head tomorrow."
There was a moment of stunned silence. Just the sound of breathing and the hum of the fluorescent lights.
"Listen to me," Riley continued, his voice sounding closer. Buffy felt Faith's arms close more tightly around her. "I'm going to unlock the cuffs after I take you into the operating room tomorrow. Get up and kill her, and I will walk you out of here, past all the guards, alright? Just do it. Just do it before she screws with your brain."
The glass slammed shut, and Buffy started to shake. She opened her eyes and looked up into Faith's face. Faith's mouth had fallen open.
"Do what he says, Bee. It's justified now. She's gonna mess with your head. Kill her."
Buffy said nothing, staring blankly. She had never had to kill a person before.
"Do it because I'm telling you to. Right here, right now, I'm taking responsibility for you, so you've gotta do what I say. Like with Giles, right? You do what Giles says. Well, right now you do what I say, and I'm ordering you to kill her."
This went on all night, Faith urging Buffy to kill Professor Walsh, and Buffy staring into space. Eventually Buffy's heart must have gotten a little faster, because Faith let her fall asleep. She had no dreams.