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chapter seventeen – particles and light

A breeze brushed harshly over the treetops, pulling the white leaves from their branches as the trees rocked from side to side. Falling from the sky, the foliage looked like the oval petals of a white chrysanthemum Buffy recalled seeing in a book in her mother's bedroom years before. She watched joylessly as the leaves zigzagged briskly across the bright blue sky, cutting a path into the red lake below. Buffy couldn't help but think how beautiful it looked. Not even the terrible pain in her gut, now traveling to her chest toward her sternum, prevented her from noticing how lovely it could be in the Zek dimension if it weren't for all the evil. This she understood far too well. She had killed a human being. Taken her sword and pushed it through Fred's chest. Proof of her deed lay on the ground before her. A crumbled heap, face up, blood still spewing from the wound, Fred's body lay quiet, her huge brown eyes staring wide in surprise at the last sight they'd seen – a mindless slayer butchering her with a sword.

Buffy fell to her knees and began to weep, her body racked by sobs of grief. “Oh my God, what have I done?” She cried. “What have I done?”


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Spike heard Buffy before he saw her. The sobs she wailed cut through the landscape, her loud gasping cries of anguish and despair carried by the wind. He ran toward the noise.

When he first caught sight of the two women, he saw one body lying motionless on the ground, and another, shoulders heaving, hands cradling her head, knelt beside the still figure. Buffy and Fred had disappeared from Angel's apartment to arrive here, where he had followed them when he stepped through the portal. He surveyed the land as he continued to run toward them, taking in the odd combination of vibrant primary colors and the sugary, too sweet smells that permeated the air. Okay, he thought, this is the Zek dimension. Angel's hell for a thousand years didn't look that bad to Spike. Had to be the demons and the witches that lived here that made it all it could be as far as hell dimensions go. Then he was there.

“Buffy,” he whispered, kneeling beside her.

“Oh Spike!” She jumped to her feet, and immediately into battle stance, bringing her sword into striking position. “Get out of here! I'll kill you! I swear it! Just like I killed her. I can't help but do what I have to do.” Buffy's voice was a groan, her eyes filled with pain and a grief he hadn't seen in them ever before.

“No, Buffy,” he said. “You won't, and you haven't, at least not yet.”

“Won't?” She repeated, confused, but still holding her sword at the ready to attack. “What are you saying?”

“Fred's heart is still beating.” He'd remained on his knees next to Fred as he spoke, ignoring the danger of Buffy's sword and her warning words. Carefully, he adjusted Fred's body so that she was lying flat on her back – no longer in a twisted heap.

“But my aim,” Buffy hesitated, uncertain. “My aim was true.”

“Luv, I'm not positive,” Spike began. “But I believe Fred started moving through a portal as your sword struck.”

“But…”

“Buffy!” he shouted, jumping to his feet. Spike then grabbed Buffy's shoulders, giving them a good shake. “Listen to me. We've got to help her, and fast or she'll die. Do you understand me?”

“Spike, I've got to…”

“Damn it, Buffy. Please don't do this,” he pleaded. “I don't have time to fight you and save Fred. You'll just have to kill us both.”

Spike let go of her shoulders and turned his back to Buffy as he returned to Fred's side, kneeling next to her. He shrugged off his duster, and pulled his black t-shirt over his head then tore it into shreds quickly before tying the ends together to form a body-sized tourniquet to wrap around her chest. “Buffy, are you going to help me?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder.

Spike froze as he looked up at the slayer. Buffy had raised the sword over her head. He could see in her eyes she was struggling, trying to decide. He felt colder than usual as he considered that she might just do it. End him for once and for all.

Spike realized he couldn't help Buffy make this decision. His only choice was to fight her – fists and fangs – in an all out battle to save his un-life. If he started this, it might take hours before it ended, and Fred would be gone. He had to trust that his Buffy, not this vicious woman who stood over him with a sword pointed at his head, was still inside the small perky body that threatened him. He had to trust that she remembered loving him enough not to kill him. Buffy had to battle whatever it was that was controlling her. Be it the magic, the science, or just being in hell, Buffy had to understand that she wasn't a mindless scientific particle or quark. She was Buffy, the slayer, and she had to make up her mind. God, he hoped, she'd make the right decision, as he turned his back on her to tend to Fred.


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Willow was alone. Well, she and Lillie were the only ones left since Lilith had disappeared with Angel. But Lillie wasn't exactly company or even a decent foe anymore. At least, she wasn't right now. She was a shell. Couldn't talk, hadn't moved since Fred had arrived, and worst of all, she hadn't even blinked – not once in hours. With Lillie's incapacitated state and the others having completed their vanishing act, Willow saw no reason to remain a captive in the bottom of hell. It was time for her to escape. She had to go, right? She was stalling, she realized, surprised. Seemed unusual that she had to convince herself that leaving hell was a good thing, but something was missing. Shaking her head, she decided it might be best to worry about it later.

Taking a deep breath, she assembled her energy to bring the pieces of her consciousness back into her mind. She'd been all over the place during the past few hours. Angel had guessed right when he'd dropped into hell. Battling Lilith's mega-spells and glamours hadn't been easy on Willow. She'd struggled, that was for sure. Lilith was a Zek dimension Wicca – not your usual earthly brand of witch by any means. Okay, Willow was queen of the hill, so to speak, as far as Earth was concerned. She never shied away from witch-to-witch combat, no matter where they called home. Willow had succeeded for the most part in moving bodies from dimension to dimension, controlling emotions and keeping the L'Quaratong at bay. Well, okay, not quite. But she'd done a good job with Fred and Angel and in particular Spike. She'd kept Charm from controlling Fred completely, allowing Fred to get back to Wolfram and Hart. She'd been able to keep Spike entirely free of Beauty – except for that one time. However, Buffy...well with Buffy she'd failed big time.

Willow sighed, her nerves were sapping her determination. She just hadn't been able to reach Buffy. Didn't know where she was most of time. Couldn't find her in the vortex Lilith controlled. Perhaps she could try again? She might as well try to reach out one more time, find Buffy, and get this Color Wicca under control. Bet it couldn't hurt to try again, she wagered.


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Buffy's body was trembling so violently she thought she'd break apart. The sword was poised, zeroed in on Spike's neck. Stupid vampire! She groaned. He'd turned his back. Why'd he do that? She was preparing to sever his beautiful head from his beautiful body, leaving nothing but dust, and he'd turned his back. She was amazed at his blatant foolishness, and managed to refrain from smiling at his typically Spike behavior.

Tears streaked down her face as she realized she didn't want to do this. She really didn't want to hurt Spike. Suddenly, she felt like Buffy, not some distorted combination of Buffy and Color, just plain old Buffy. She started to chuckle as she let the sword drop to her side.

“What's so funny, Slayer?” Spike asked. His attention still focused on Fred, he didn't turn around to look at Buffy as he spoke. “If you could grab the other side of the shirt, over there, we'd get this done without jostling her much.”

Buffy placed the sword on the ground, stepped to the other side of Spike and Fred, and sat cross-legged opposite Spike. She pulled the cloth underneath Fred's body, and gave Spike the end to secure as she raised her eyes to look into his face.

“Right. So, Buffy is back,” he smiled.

“Spike, I hurt her…bad.”

“That you did, luv.”

A soft moan came from Fred's mouth as Spike finished up the last of the bandaging. “Got to get her back to our dimension.”

“I've got to go after Lilith. You can get her back."

“Can't leave you here, Buffy.” Spike's eyes were soft as he tilted his head slightly to meet her gaze. “Likely you won't be able to stop Color for too long. Can't risk you being here in Zek without back-up against Lilith.”

“Can't risk returning to Wolfram and Hart, either.”

“Then we'll stay here.” He said, quietly. “For now.”


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Angel was hanging in mid-air, his feet dangling several feet above the ground. His body was bound by a Zquan spell of some kind. He could see the magic crystals sparkling around him in the cave he recognized from so long ago. The memory made him cringe. It was an internal cavern, separated from the labyrinth of caves, that the L'Quaratong had called home for centuries, by a series of cliffs and lakes. It was all underground. He definitely remembered that. They'd lived under Zeklar demons and gods, like creatures of the night, in their own way – for an eternity.

“They're here,” Lilith floated in from an opening he hadn't noticed to his left. “We're all in the Zek dimension now.”

Angel didn't acknowledge her. He was trying to remember the characteristics of the family of spells that held him. Zquan magic was powerful but rarely resulted in physical pain unless the captive struggled to free itself, he recalled. He twisted slightly to test his theory. Immediately, his body jerked against the invisible chains as stabbing needles circled his chest and stomach. Yeah, his memory was pretty good he reasoned, as the agony spread to his legs.

“Did you hear me, Angel? They're here,” Lilith repeated. “On Zek…all of us are here.”

“What do you mean? I thought you only wanted me?” He murmured, trying not to let out the groan that was nestled in the back of his throat.

“I do want you,” she said, a flirtatious tone in her voice. “But first we must draw upon the power of the Seven, and then you and I will be the foundation of the next race of the L'Quaratong.” She giggled.

“Why do you keep up this foolishness?” He barked, agitated. “If we come together, we destroy everything!”

Her laughter made a throaty sound that bounced off the walls of the cave. “We are all here on Zek, and if you haven't noticed, there's been no big bang.”

Angel felt his legs touch the ground and Lilith's face was in front of his.

“So what do you think of the Zeklar's theory now?”

“I believe you are a fool.”

Lilith slapped Angel across his face with an open hand. His head jerked to the left from the force of the blow and his jaw tightened as he licked his lips, tasting his own blood.

“You're still a fool,” he mumbled.

“Maybe,” she smiled. “But I'm also the most powerful Wiccan in this universe or the next.”

A bright orb suddenly scorched through the cave, bringing with it a trail of light so intense Angel thought he might be dust in an instant.

But it wasn't daylight.

“Hey, Angel,” said Willow. “Lilith, good to see you.”

to be continued...





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