Giles took a deep breath as Spike’s English accent blasted over the phone. Even when I’m an ocean away the vampire can still drive me mad! It had been Willow’s idea to call him, the now quiet red head adamant that the vampire be informed of Buffy’s condition. The flashing ire of green orbs coupled with a rather nasty hex waiting to be thrown had only quickened his fingers as they dialed the loathed number.
He still regretted ever letting it slip that the bleached menace and Angel were still alive.
The apartment he stood in was ornate to the point of overdone, a tragic example of Andrew’s sense of taste.
The amount of video cameras which focused on his every movement in the main foyer was also worrisome.
Turning his attention back to the phone, Giles was met with an odd silence, harsh unneeded breaths sounding directly into his ear. The urge to clean his glasses was overwhelming but the former watcher, now head of the new council restrained himself.
Barely.
Finally he decided to elaborate on his statement, a stiff snobbish lilt to his voice the only real sign that he was annoyed. Giles had last used it during his foiled attempt with Robin to finally get rid of Spike. The slayer had only suffered from her attachment with him then and likewise now. He’d wanted to scream and rage at the crumpled form of Buffy, knowing that her relationship with the Immortal would ultimately end in ruin. Part of him blamed the whole thing on bloody Angel, but the more vindictive side focused on Spike.
The immortal had first charmed her with stories of William the Bloody and even after she agreed to see him, continued to pester the oversized git about Spike.
The only consolation had been the end to her tears which slowly were wearing on them all. The smile as Sunnydale caved in on itself had been her last, the blond alpha slayer shutting herself off from those around her. Her accusations that they had abandoned her in her time of need were true but the way she carried on about a vampire…
Giles had nearly forced her to have counseling.
Xander, had not lasted more than two months under her weighty stares and silence, taking off on his own when the pain of Buffy became too much. Giles guessed that it was mainly due to her overwhelming grief whereas the boy had been able to let Anya go within a month. She made all of them feel guilty.
It was not a real surprise to the watcher when his charge took control of running the slayers. She had sacrificed so much that not continuing to fight seemed a denial of her struggles. The immortal, like a true demon, had encouraged her along at watcher meetings, even practiced alongside training slayers.
He only had to step into the other room and stare at Buffy’s catatonic state to know it’d all been a lie.
Again the Cockney voice of her former lover sounded on the phone, roaring questions now in a mixture of fear and anxiety.
“She is gone Spike. Buffy doesn’t move, doesn’t speak; nothing.” He pinched the bridge between his nose and brow in distress, resignation lining his words. “The only way we can talk to her is through a powerful spell of telepathy but even then she ignores us. I guess I’m calling to ask for your help.”
The static of the phone was all that could be heard for a full minute before Spike responded: “I’ll be on the next plane over.”
***
It was like she was dead…
The Slayer, alpha added to her title now that there was more than one, lay on the bed, lax and in a constant state of dreaming. Every half an hour her body would twitch. It was the only sign that her magic had worked whatsoever, the spell between them causing her body to respond. A normal person would of immediately sat up, the force of the spell being so great.
Buffy didn’t even intake a breath quicker.
Her golden hair, streaked with red as a result of her ‘punk phase’ formed a halo around her head, some locks hanging off the side of the single bed. They had moved her to Andrew’s apartment, mainly for the fact that it was so wired that the electricity bill was a small fortune. It suited them all perfectly when the need for a break became necessary.
Buffy’s face had been neatly washed this morning by Willow, specifically for the purpose that it gave the slayer good vibrations. Their link was weak but she could feel the effects of it wherever it was that Buffy was caged.
The red head sighed deeply, cursing the immortal and anyone he associated with. There was no doubt in the witch’s mind that her best friend was trapped somewhere. The lack of ability to speak plus the odd way she responded during attempts to their messages was signatures of an entrapment spell. She felt the odd sensation of sterility which could only mean badness.
The sooner they got Buffy out the better.
If only we knew what he did to her.
The immortal had deposited Buffy’s body in a dumpster, careless as to where he left her after performing his spell. It would’ve taken more than just the demon to cast the magic but there were only a few with the power.
Willow was one of them.
Her fear for the safety of her friend had only been negated by her relief when finding that she would not be blamed for this catastrophe. Dawn had been called home immediately from her English school, Xander acting as her guardian following behind rather reluctantly. Already the brunette had fallen for another woman.
Willow didn’t know what to think of it.
The tremor along Buffy’s left side caused the red headed witch to caress her arm, soothing nothings flowing from her mouth. Each of them had been blocked when trying to enter the world she was trapped in.
She feverently prayed that Spike would be different.
They desperately needed a miracle.
Meds by silly_bint
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Author's Chapter Notes:
sorry for the late update. your reviews have amazed me with their interest. THANKYOU SO MUCH. I am typing another three chapters tonight just so there won't be a huge gap between posts.