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Author's Chapter Notes:
Finally, here it is!
The blast shook the compound and shattered the oppressive silence. Locked in their tiny room, the four women had no where to go.

“What is it, what’s going on?” Dawn asked, her eyes wide and frightened. For the first time, Buffy realized just how young the girl really was. “What’s going to happen, who’s doing this?”

Dawns was breathing rapidly, her chest heaving. Tears leaked out of her eyes, though she valiantly tried to stop them. Before Buffy could answer, another explosion, louder this time, had them instinctively crouching on the floor.

“Buffy,” Dawn whimpered, her hand clutching her stomach. “It hurts.” Dawn was clutching her stomach and was doubled over. “Buffy!”

“Dawn,” Buffy said, keeping her voice pitched low and calm. “Dawn, I need you to look at me. Come on, look at me.” Dawn lifted her pain filled blue eyes to Buffy’s piercing green ones. “I know you’re scared. And I know it hurts. But it’s OK. You need to calm down, and concentrate on your breathing. You need to do this. You have to do this, for the baby, alright?”

Dawn nodded mutely, her eyes wide and trusting.

“Good. Let’s get you onto the bed first, OK?” She helped Dawn stand and urged her over onto the bed, encouraging the girl every step of the way. Buffy swore she heard what had to be gunfire, but she ignored it and kept Dawn’s mind off of the unusual sounds. She lead Dawn through breathing exercises, feeling immense relief when Dawn said the pain was lessening.

Sounds in the hallway drew their attention, three pairs of eyes looking to Buffy for leadership. Buffy quickly knelt and looked Dawn in the eyes.

“Nothing is going to happen to you or your baby! They’re going have to go through me first.”

Buffy positioned herself near the door, ready to deal with whoever came into their room. She could hear footsteps and muffled voices. She settled into a ready stance, her muscles tense and waiting.

The door burst open, and two black-clad figures with guns moved into the room, their eyes assessing.

“Clear!”

Buffy couldn’t move. Her eyes were glued to the white ltters sewn into the dark jackets the figures were wearing. FBI. That meant…that meant. A strangled sob left her as she realized help was here. Rescue. That sweet word that had been her saving grace for so long. It had finally come.

Someone was talking to her, ushering her out of the room, but it was all a blur. Buffy was so caught up in her own thoughts that everything else faded away. Rescued. She was getting out of here. Someone had come…Will and Spike—

“Buffy!” Dawn’s frightened cry reached through her whirling thoughts, and Buffy snapped back to reality. She could hear people moving and shouting, the noise of order interrupted. There were spurts of gunfire in the distance, and the acidic smell of smoke tinged the air. And Dawn was crying out. Without thinking, Buffy wrenched herself from the grasp of her escort and dashed to Dawn.

“I’m here to help, you’re going to be fine, I need you to come with me,” a calm, male voice instructed. Dawn was cowering on the bed, her eyes large and frightened, one hand resting protectively over her distended belly.

“Buffy!” she called again, her small body shaking.

“I’m here Dawn. I’m here.” Buffy gathered the teen in her arms, rocking her gently until the shaking subsided.

“That…that man,” Dawn whispered raggedly.

“They’ve come,” Buffy said, unable to hide the astonishment and joy in her voice. Her eyes misted as it sank in, truly sank in. “They’re here to rescue us.”

***

They were being escorted down the hall by a few armed soldiers, Dawn’s hand gripping Buffy’s, when a terrified wail floated down the hall to them. Buffy glanced towards the sound, and repressed the shudder that ran through her. They were next to the ‘Reflection Rooms.’ She could see a group of soldiers standing outside of a room. The door was open, and one of the men was struggling with someone. Buffy gave Dawn’s hand a reassuring squeeze before slipping away and heading down the hall.

“Hey! What are you doing?” a voice yelled. A strong hand pulled Buffy to a stop. She turned and looked the man straight in the eye, unflinchingly.

“I can help them,” she said, jerking her head towards the group huddled at the end of the hall. She silently pleaded with him to let her go and do this. His eyes flicked back and forth. Another terrified wail reached their ears, and a short curse filtered through the other sounds. One of the black-clad agents was doubled over clutching his nether regions a bit painfully. With a curt nod, the solider walked her to the other group. He winced at the downed agent before turning to the person in charge.

“I’m leavin’ her with you. Says she can help. Keep her safe.” The other solider looked dubious.

“What makes you think—“

“Been through this,” Buffy said curtly, not bothering to let the man finish. She took a deep breath, and motioned the people away from the door. With a look of fierce determination, Buffy slipped into the small cell and closed the door behind her. She left it open just a hair, so that a thin line of light illuminated the space.

She sat down across from the rocking figure, with just enough space between them that the person didn’t feel crowded. She closed her eyes, trying to fight back the memories that tried to assail her. She had a feeling she’d be battling claustrophobia for a while after she got out of here. That though, above all others, managed to chase away the worst of the fear and nausea. She was getting out of here. Today.

“Are you real?” The voice was unbelievably frail, that of a teenage boy whose life had been ripped from him.

“Yeah. I’m real,” she said softly. “My name’s Buffy.” She waited patiently, remembering her own jarring re-entry into the world. The light, the smells, the touching. She shuddered, remembering the fierce disorientation and the certainty that it had to be another hallucination.

“Andrew.” It was a whisper, as if he was trying not to believe, to hope what she said was real. It broke Buffy’s heart, and made her hate Caleb and Glory and all the people here just a little bit more.

“Hi.” She sat there, listening to the boy’s breathing slow down, feeling him start to relax. “So…you wanna blow this popsicle stand?” She was rewarded with a soft, wheezing laugh. She started slightly when a hand found its way into her own.

“Will you…don’t…”

“I’ll be there every step of the way,” Buffy promised.

***

The next few hours of Buffy’s life were a blur. She led Andrew out of his dismal cell, the young boy clutching her like a life line. He’d buried his head in her shoulders, his eyes stinging in the harsh light. They were surrounded by the agents, who escorted them down the hallways and out of the compound like they were dignitaries. They were taken to an ambulance and driven to the nearest hospital. The trip seemed to last a minute, though Buffy was later told the commune was over an hour away from the nearest hospital.

Buffy had stayed with Andrew until he had been through triage and placed into the expert care of a therapist and a very soothing nurse, though he had to be coaxed into letting go of her hand. Another nurse had then taken Buffy back to triage where she’d been poked, prodded, and stuck several times. But none of it really registered. She was in a state of shock, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that she was safe, rescued, and no longer in that hellhole.

“Ms. Summers? Buffy?” A hand brushed against her shoulder, and Buffy started violently, a kindly looking nurse materializing in her line of sight. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” she said with a gentle smile. Buffy just shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

“I’m going to take you to your room. We’re running a series of blood tests to make sure you didn’t contract anything; the doctor will have the basic results in the morning. You’ll have to stay for a couple of days of observation and see a counselor, provided free of charge…” The woman’s voice faded into the distance. Buffy’s eyes were fixed on the other side of the room, on a sight she had started to think she’d never get to see again.

***

“Look, I don’t care you tosser! I just want to find my girlfriend!” Spike growled, trying to keep his temper. If this soddin’ idiot didn’t get the hell out of his way, and fast, the man would not live to see tomorrow. Buffy was here, somewhere, and he was damn well going to find her.

“I can’t give out that information until she signs a release and gives us your name, IF she’s even here,” the nurse insisted. He folded his arms over his chest, his face setting in an obstinate look.

“You buggerin’—“

“Spike.” Will gripped his twin’s arm, he eyes wide and far away. Spike automatically followed his gaze and was suddenly looking into green eyes that he knew so well and hadn’t seen in what seemed like forever.

“Buffy,” he whispered reverently. There she was, hair messed, dirt on her face, ill-fitting clothes on her body…but so very alive and more beautiful than she’d ever looked before.

As one, the twins were moving, racing across the packed triage area, towards their future.

***

They were coming. Buffy watched as they broke into a run, pushing people out of their way as they moved towards here. She managed to take two steps before her emotions overwhelmed her and she collapsed to the floor.

Before she could hit, two pairs of muscular arms caught her and lowered her gently to the floor. Buffy realized belatedly that she was crying, big fat tears that streaked her face and made her look splotchy and gross but she didn’t care. She was back where she belonged, where she felt safe and loved. She was in her Twinlet’s arms, surrounded by them, by their scent, and the world could not have been a more perfect place.


A/N: Sorry for the wait. I've been having muse issues. If you're interested, there are a few stand-alone twinlets one-shots over at my personal site that don't fit into the story, if you're interested. It's my Twinlets Table of Kink, and you're more than welcome to suggest something for me to write about!

Oh yeah. And threatening me with no BoMB updates, Elizabeth Anne Summers? That's just CRUEL.





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