Where am I?
I'll fill you up with a new kind of glamour//I'll make you frown with a true kind of tremor//I'll lift you up 'cause my God's just arisen//I'll take you down to my own private prison//I'll fill you up with the breath of the rotten//I'll bring you down to the lost and forgotten//I'll wrap you up in the sweetest apparel//I'll make you frown with a view down the barrel//I'll take you up to my own cemetery//I'll drag you down girl - I'm too solitary//I'll lift you up 'cause you're my only treasure//I'll make you frown for my own private pleasure//Nothing can tear us apart//You won't save me from love that hurts me//Nothing can tear us apart//You won't spare me from life that kills me ~~Oomph - “My Own Private Prison”
Where the hell was she? She was naked, that much she didn’t even need to open her eyes to figure out. Wherever she was it was cold and damp. A shaft of fear frissoned through her before she quickly suppressed it. Cold, damp and naked was never a good sign.
Opening her eyes provided no new information about her surroundings. It was very dark. Shifting her senses, she realized she was lying on a rough surface. Concrete? Probably.
This was not good at all.
She pushed herself up to a sitting position and reached out in all directions. Nothing. Damn it! She was supposed to be done with this shit! She was retired! There were dozens of other slayers! That should have been enough to earn her a normal life for a little while. Should have been enough that she didn’t have to continue to be the one who woke up in strange cement places.
Where the hell was she!
“HELLO?!” Her voice cracked from the strain of yelling into the inky blackness of the room. No answer. She got to her feet and moved her arms out to in front of her. There was nothing to lose by exploring her environment. She took three careful steps forward and her hands came into contact with a smooth, cool metal surface. A door? If so it was one without a knob or hinges on this side. Turning around she headed in the opposite direction. Ten steps later she brushed her fingers against a dank stone wall. She moved along the wall to her left for three steps and came to a corner. Six steps to her right and she was in another corner.
A cell.
So much for free-range Buffy.
She moved back to the center of the room and sat down. Her head hurt. Puzzled she ran her fingers over her scalp hissing in pain when she encountered sutures on the back of her skull.
Dread curled up in her belly and settled down for the long haul.
She had no idea how long she’d been sitting in darkness when curiosity drove her fingers back into her hair to explore the sutured area. She found a thin rigid patch just under the skin near the stitches but any attempt to probe it caused a shock of electricity to shoot through her thin frame.
A computer chip? Had she been captured by the Initiative? Cold, dank stone didn’t seem their style but who knows what changes they’d gone through after the fall of the Sunnydale lab. On the other hand, whatever she felt had been outside her skull, just under the skin and she was positive that Initiative behavioral chips were buried deep inside his brain.
Oddly she wasn’t comforted by the knowledge that whoever was behind this wasn’t related to the Initiative. At least they were familiar.
What was the last thing she remembered before she woke up here, wherever here was? She’d had an argument with Paolo. He’d been overprotective again and had conspired with Giles to keep information from her about an apocalypse in LA. She understood Giles’ reasons for keeping quiet about Angel’s problems but she didn’t understand Paolo’s unwillingness to boast about what he considered to be Angel’s largest shortcoming, his lack of strategy. His inability to plan ahead. Boasting was Paolo’s favorite past time.
Buffy thought Paolo was incredibly dense sometimes about the people he considered enemies.
He had been incredibly forthcoming when she’d discovered their omission and had demanded the full story and aid in traveling to California to see what she could do to help.
It was the least she could do after Angel had delivered the key component to defeating the First.
Buffy’s yanked her thoughts away from that subject before she managed to think of her last few minutes in Sunnydale. She was much better off never thinking about that painful subject again.
Yes indeed. The last thing she remembered was sitting comfortably in Paolo’s private jet waiting for a refill at JFK Airport for the last leg of their trip to the LA Basin. One minute it was cosmos and caviar the next it was captivity and cement
She was determined to stay alert until someone came. After all, didn’t all Evil Bad Guys need to take the time to gloat and explain how supercoolsmart they were to have caught the Good Guy? Wasn’t that a rule or something? At the very least they were going to feed her. Right?
As if on cue her stomach let loose a warbling rumble which made her wonder how long she’d actually been in this hell hole since she’d just finished eating breakfast on the jet before waking up here. How long had she been unconscious? How long had she been sitting here staring into inky blackness?
Damn she had to go to the bathroom! Obviously she was being held by the most evil of demons since they hadn’t even considered the basic amenities.
Suddenly light flooded her cell, blinding her. A staticky voice warbled over what was obviously a decrepit audio system.
“Please, back away from the door and sit down on your hands.”
“Hello? Who’s there!” she demanded.
“Back away from the door and sit down on your hands. You won’t be asked again.”
“Who are you?” the question was followed by a sharp pain running from her head to her limbs and back again as she went rigid from the charge that shot through her body.
“This is your last chance. Back away from the door and sit down on your hands or you won’t eat.”
Furious at her vulnerability, she complied as she struggled to recover from the blast. Well, that answered that question; behavioral chip. As soon as she was in position the metal door disappeared and a man with a tan bandanna tied across his face entered the room and placed a tray of glop and a bottle of water close to the doorway. He was wearing khaki colored camouflaged fatigues and standard army boots. A soldier. Buffy felt a surge of hope. An American soldier.
“I think there’s been a mistake. Obviously you took me for someone else because I’m an American citizen we’re obviously on the same side.” She gave him her brightest smile even though she couldn’t make it go all the way up to her eyes.
The soldier showed no reaction and backed up out of room until the door clanged shut again. He hadn’t even looked in her direction.
“How’m I supposed to go to the bathroom!” She yelled at the silent barrier.
Where am I?, Part II
He said, "Son when you grow up, would you be the saviour of the broken, the beaten and the damned?" He said "Will you defeat them, your demons, and all the non believers, the plans that they have made?" Because one day I'll leave you, A phantom to lead you in the summer, To join the black parade." ~~”Welcome to the Black Parade” – My Chemical Romance
And so it went. The door opened every few...hours? A soldier dropped off something that could only loosely be described as food and occasionally she received other necessities. On his second trip the soldier left a bucket and a few strips of tissue. She was shocked when the fourth soldier had left clothing behind. She’d forgotten she was naked. If she tried to resist she received a shock to her system. If she complied she got to eat and received a clean bucket along with her meal.
The fifth soldier, or the same soldier on his fifth trip, Buffy had yet to figure out which was the case, was surprised when a now clothed Buffy had leapt at him in hopes of incapacitating him before she was brought down by system shock.
She’d woken up naked once again. That didn’t stop her from trying again on the sixth trip. And the seventh. Eighth. The physical pain didn’t matter. The important part was that if she was constantly attacking and being attacked she wouldn’t have time to think. Not about her last days in Sunnydale, not about brain chips, not about the Initiative or the uncertainty of her fate. For the first time since she settled in Italy she was having a hard time putting her most painful thoughts aside by concentrating and keeping busy. Now that it could never matter she finally understood exactly what it was like for Him to not be able to protect himself.
After the ninth visit she woke chained to what seemed, from her limited vantage point, to be an electric chair. Heavy wood, set in a concrete block with straps affixed at various points to her arms, legs, torso and head. Dear God, was that a ball gag? It was less dark this time and she could hear other noises in the room; an occasional snuffle, a subdued whimper. There were vampires around. Was that who held her captive? An army of vampires and their human army of suck slaves? She could see enough to know that this was a different room. Larger at the very least even if she couldn’t see more than five feet in front of herself because of...curtains? Was she in a hospital? What kind of hospital had a torture chair like the one to which she was secured?
The light grew brighter as a curtain swished aside and allowing an extremely familiar petite black woman to enter the area.
“Good morning, Ms Summers. I take it you are comfortable?” the woman gave a wan smile indicating she hadn’t forgotten about Buffy’s inability to speak. “I’m sure you understand why we’ve taken you into custody. I’m just sorry it took so long but it was necessary to wait until we had you back on friendly soil. You have an annoying habit of making very powerful friends Ms Summers.
“Things finally worked out for us, however. Who would have thought that the incident in Los Angeles would bring one of the United States’ most wanted terrorists back within arms reach of justice?”
What the hell are you talking about you old hag!
Either the look in Buffy’s eyes spoke volumes or the woman facing her had access to her thoughts because she answered as if Buffy had spoken out loud.
“Of course I’m assuming of the attack on American soil that devastated an entire city in California. You can’t possibly hope to deny responsibility for the destruction of Sunnydale. You may call me Dr. Rice.” the woman moved over to the curtain in front of Buffy and jerked it toward the wall. “and this is Bashlachev Detention Camp. Please make yourself at home. You’ll be here indefinitely.”
Welcome to Bashlachev
I can't believe what is in front of me. The water's rising up to my knees and I can't figure out how the hell I wound up here. Everything seemed okay when I started out the other day then the rain came pouring down and now I’m drowning in my fears. And as I watch the setting sun I wonder if I’m the only one. ~~”These Walls” – Teddy Geiger
Before she could blink the woman was gone. She was in another cage. This one was larger and as far as she could tell from the noises there were at least four other people confined in it. At least the light was only dim instead of nonexistent. As she struggled to look around she heard a woosh like the sound of a vacuum releasing and there were hands on her head and limbs loosening her bonds.
“Hey girlfriend, I see they got you too. Whadya do? Attend a garden party in a country that would extradite?”
It was strange to find this particular voice comforting even in its hoarseness. As soon as the ball gag was removed Buffy choked out, “Faith? What are you doing here?”
“Same as you. We’re enemies of the People, ain’t life grand?”
Buffy was free and she propelled herself out of the awful chair causing most of the other occupants of the room, aside from Faith, to jump. Looking around the new cage she saw one wall lined with chairs just like the one she’d been confined in except they had restricting braces instead of the plastic temporary bonds she’d been held in. Five chairs in all.
Faith saw her glance and commented, “yeah, the hot seats. You must have pissed them off royally in solitary because they moved you into general pop before they were even done outfitting your chair.”
Buffy shuddered and moved her attention away from the chairs. The room was approximately twenty by forty, three concrete walls rounded out with one made up of Plexiglas that had holes punched in it like a hamster cage. On the other side of the plastic wall, hung up high on one wall was an actual iron maiden which was slowly dripping what looked like blood. Standing under the Iron Maiden, against the wall like a guardian was a woman with blue hair. She didn’t move, hadn’t since she’d entered Buffy’s line of vision, not even a blink. Creepy.
“That’s Illyria. She’s some sort of ancient hell god. She hasn’t done much since she got here. She only talks to...” Faith cut off abruptly.
Buffy turned her attention to the people inside the cell. Continuing to act as tour guide faith followed Buffy’s gaze and commented, The handsome guy laying in the corner is Gunn. He’s one of Angel’s demon hunters.”
“Angel? Is he here too?”
“Dunno. There’s a vampire in the Maiden. I’ve never seen it but who else could it be? Especially since the rest of his gang is here.”
“His gang?” Buffy asked since she didn’t recognize anyone else in the room.
Faith chuckled humorlessly. “The mousy one huddled in the chair is Eve. Not sure why she’s here. Next to her is Gunn, he was part of the LA apocalypse. He killed a Senator! How cool is that?” off of Buffy’s disapproving look Faith continued, “What! She was a demon, of course. Come on, Buffy! I’m reformed, remember?”
“What kind of demon was she?”
“No clue. According to Charlie she was installed in a human corpse so she could pass and she was well on her way to the White House but it’s hard to get details out of him since he’s not conscious very often. He was hurt when he arrived and the chair really takes it out of him.
“The guy currently nursing Charlie is Connor.” Faith broke into a grin that didn’t reach her eyes. “He’s Angel’s son.”
Buffy went cold, “Paolo told be about him. I guess he wasn’t just trying to piss me off. Was he one of Angel’s gang too?”
“Dunno. He was there last year when I got out of prison but he didn’t seem to be one of the inner circle. He’s way hot headed, though. Makes me look like the Dalai Lama. Or at least he did then. He seems calmer than he was but then they haven’t been here all that long so who knows.”
“How long?”
“Coupla days.”
“For you.”
Faith sighed. “I don’t know. It was less than a month after we got to Cincinnati. I have no idea where Wood is. I hoped for along time that he wasn’t around because they didn’t take humans into custody, but Charlie and Eve kind of disprove that theory.”
“When you and Robin went incommunicado we just assumed... Faith, that was eight months ago!”
“Was it?” came her bleak reply.
Hard Cases
So I took what's mine by eternal right. Took your soul out into the night. It may be over but it won't stop there, I am here for you if you'd only care. // You touched my heart you touched my soul. You changed my life and all my goals. And love is blind but then I knew it, My heart was blinded by you. ~~”Goodbye My Lover” – James Blunt
“You’ve been here eight months and you haven’t found a way to escape yet?” fear once again shivered up Buffy’s spine.
“It’s a lot harder than you think. They installed a chip in your head, right? Well it seems it’s sole purpose isn’t behavioral modification, like you’d think. Unlike vampires they can’t implant it inside the brain and where it is located... well, give us too many shocks and we either short the entire thing out or we get used to the pain. That’s probably why they moved you in here before your chair was fully installed. You must have been pretty close to shorting out. Instead they added a nifty on/off switch. Whenever they need to make an adjustment to the cage or deliver something that won’t fit into the airlock they switch us off like robots and we wake up in the damned hot seats when they’re done.”
“I don’t understand. What do they want from us?”
For the first time, Faith looked frightened, “I don’t know, B. So far they haven’t asked me a single thing.”
“Then why are we here?”
An hysterical laugh bubbled up from the mousey woman huddled in the corner chair. “Punishment. This is all about punishment. You pissed of the Senior Partners somehow and this is their retribution. We’ll never be free again!” Hysteria took over and she turned inward and started rocking in agitation.
Faith sighed and rolled her eyes, “She’s been like that since they arrived. All gloom and doom, but as far as I can tell she’s right, they don’t want anything but to keep us here for the rest of our lives.”
Buffy stood up angrily and strode over to the chair she’d been strapped to, “Well if they expect me to just sit here take everything they dish out they’re crazy!”
Yanking at the arm of the chair until it loudly ripped free she stalked over to the clear wall and started smashing it with her makeshift club. Just as a crack started to form and as Faith began to yell “Buffy! No!” the lights went out.
When she came to she was again strapped in her chair, this time with the same manacles she’d seen on the others. As her head started to clear she heard the vacuum sound again as the manacles disappeared from her limbs.
“What the fuck was that about, B?” Faith stalked towards her furiously as Connor and Eve helped Gunn out of his chair and back onto his makeshift pallet against the wall. “I told you Gunn was injured and can’t handle the transition to the chair! Do you want to kill him?” She saw the fist coming towards her just as it connected with her nose.
Her head cracked back against the chair and she felt a tingle go through her entire body as her head absorbed the blow. Stunned she was unable to bring up her arms to defend herself when she saw Faith’s fist pull back for a second blow. It never landed though and both angry young women turned to see Faith’s arm held by Connor who had crossed the room while they’d been preoccupied.
“You’re not helping, Faith.” Was all the young man said before he dropped her arm and headed back towards Gunn who had propped himself up on his elbows. Faith glanced once more at Buffy before she let out an agitated huff and followed him.
Hurt, angry and embarrassed Buffy settled herself down in the far corner to sulk.
Meals were served by silent, masked soldiers who passed trays of food through a device that looked very much like the drive through window at a bank. The menu was extremely familiar to anyone who had grown up on public school cafeteria food, which meant that Eve was always complaining while the others silently ate everything given to them. Slowly the hours passed into days as the prisoners settled into a routine. Gunn’s health slowly improved until Buffy felt it was time to once again bring up the possibility of escape.
“You’re crazy, B! There is no way out of this hell hole! Don’t you think I’ve tried?”
Buffy turned to face the hell god on the other side of the plastic wall as she struggled with her temper. She was beginning to believe that Faith would disagree if Buffy announced that air was breathable, but she clenched her jaw and forced her voice to remain civil, “Maybe you have tried, but did you have people to help or were you on your own? Maybe together we can find a way out where one person couldn’t”
She was surprised that Faith didn’t have an immediate come back until she saw in the reflection of the plastic that the others had collapsed, unconscious to the floor. Without a second thought she mimicked them by falling against the plastic wall and sliding unceremoniously to the floor. She kept her eyes open a crack and waited.
The clanging of a door rang to the left out of her line of vision and the woman doctor from the day she was moved to this cell came into view with a large, muscular man following behind holding what looked like a medical bag.
They moved over toward the far wall and he woman pressed a lever near the hell god’s head. The Iron Maiden slowly lowered to the floor as the hell god finally moved to the left out of the way of its descent.
She spoke. “You will make sure that he does not die.”
Dr Rice, glanced over toward the blue creature. That’s what we agreed upon. I’ll keep him alive as long as you promise not to leave here and to tell me everything you know about whether or not Angel survived.
“He is barely alive and I have already told you that I know nothing of the other vampire. He was separated from us when you took this one prisoner.
“Barely alive is still alive.” Then she turned to the large man, “Marcus, please make sure the transfusion will be enough to last him for at least a week. I don’t want to have to do this again for a while. We have an important delegation arriving tonight and I have no idea how long they plan to stay.” At that she left the room.
Marcus, on the other hand moved towards the Iron Maiden and popped open the locks. When the last one released a desiccated mummy-like corpse rolled out. It was all Buffy could do not to scream when she saw it had platinum blond hair.
Torture
Its in the blood, Its in the blood, I met my love before I was born. He wanted love, I taste of blood. He bit my lip And drank my war From years before, From years before. ~~”Love Like Winter” – AFI
As hard as she tried to suppress any reaction Buffy drew an involuntary breath at what looked like a very much alive, if blood starved Spike. Illyria tensed at the noise but showed no other outward sign of having heard anything while Marcus grabbed the vampire by the hand and dragged him towards the door leaving streaks of blood on the floor behind him.
Once Marcus was gone Illyria’s gaze slowly swung about towards Buffy. “You are conscious, Slayer.”
Making a decision, Buffy sat up and answered bitterly, “It looks like it. Are you going to torture me now that you got your jollies with Spike?”
“You do not know what you are talking about, Slayer. My purpose is to keep the blond one alive not torture him.”
“Then what do you call leaving him in a state of perpetual starvation unable to heal the damage that damned torture device does to his body?” Buffy fought to keep from crying. “do you have any idea what that thing looks like from the inside
The hell god’s eyes blinked for a moment before she turned to inspect the 6 inch spikes that protruded from the inside walls of the cabinet. “I thought the vampire merely slept. I will think about what you have said. Your friends will be awake in 26 seconds. You may not want to let them know that your control device has been disabled.”
“Whah?”
“The device that puts you in an artificially induced comatose state was damaged when the dark haired one hit your head. You surely knew this as you pretended to be comatose like the rest.”
“Oh come on. What are the chances that Faith would hit me in just the right way to fry the behavioral chip in my head?
Illyria didn’t blink, “What are the chances indeed?” At that she turned back to her post on the wall without saying another word.
As the rest of the group started to wake up, Buffy made her way over to where Gunn was sitting. She hadn’t really asked him much about his life in LA with Angel but she was certain he had some idea why Spike had been alive and hanging in the other room.
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Spike had been dreaming about Buffy lately. Her voice. Her smell. He even thought he’d seen her a minute ago. He could feel her all around him and it was bliss. At least it was bliss whenever he could forget for a minute or two about his raging thirst or the debilitating pain wracking his bones. As he had once or twice before once he’d arrived at the facility, Spike could feel the tube inserted down his throat and the blood start to flow. Luckily they were force feeding him because he’d lost the ability to swallow several days ago.
God this hurt like the devil!
Odd. He was definitely awake but he could still smell Buffy. Usually his dreams didn’t invade his waking hours like this. He must be really far gone.
How pathetic was he? He’d been without her for a year. He’d stood on his own two feet. He’d found a purpose. . .well if not for living then at least for getting out of bed on the really boring days when Crash Bandicoot just wasn’t enough. He’d helped the helpless a few times after Lindsay had been revealed as the conniver he was. Sure the whole destiny thing was a load of bollocks but that didn’t mean that leaping in like fuckin’ Zorro wasn’t a pisser now and then. Sure beat the hell outta SciFi Friday after they cancelled Farscape whenever Galactica was a rerun.
Bloody hell that Starbuck was a live one….what had he been thinking about? Oh yeah. He was a pathetic old sod for still pining for the fjords. Heh. The fjords! Buffy was a fjord.
What was that weird raspy sound? It sounded a bit like a rattlesnake. Oh yeh. He was giggling around the feeding tube. Pathetic old sod. Pathetic.
So tired.
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“He’s here!”
“What?! He’s early. He’s never early.”
“Well he’s early this time.”
“That doesn’t bode well for our case!”
“Yes. He must be fairly certain they will rule in his favor. He’s getting in position to take possession.”
“We must get her to crack soon. I arranged for her to see the vampire removed from the Maiden. He’s been moved to the infirmary. It’s time to move on to phase three.”
“Whatever you say Arch Duke Abraxas.”
