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Dark Reflection
Chapter Five: Unlikely Choices

A look of fear crossed Warren’s face before it twisted with anger. “Slayer!” he yelled.

The Slayer’s face matched his in its anger. She gave him a cruel smile and he hesitated, but kept aiming the gun directly at her head.

“Are you daft?” Spike demanded from the Slayer’s side, and Warren swiveled the gun toward Spike’s face.

“You might want to shut up, Spike. I just might shoot you in the face,” Warren warned, his voice taking on a dangerous edge.

Spike’s eyes flashed gold, warning Warren to step away but Warren didn’t listen. Spike wanted to rip his throat out. He had actually thought about it several times since he found out his chip didn’t work, but if he did that he knew that Buffy would never forgive him.

From the looks of it now, she probably wanted to save that particular pleasure for herself.

“I’m so scared! Spike, the chipped vampire might attack me. Should we get the Tylenol ready for the migraine afterwards?” Warren mocked.

“You might,” Spike growled, his fangs bared and dripping saliva. Warren was about to pull the trigger when thankfully Xander stepped in and swung a hard punch toward the nerd’s face. Warren’s head snapped back as he tried to regain his balance and shoot at them, but Spike used his last reserves to grab the boy by his hair and slam his knee into his face, breaking his nose. Blood sprayed Spike in the face as his knee met cartilage.

Xander pressed the down button on the elevator and got it opened, yanking the vampire along behind him by his arm. Warren lost control of the gun, dropping it to the deck.

The last thing Spike and Xander heard as the elevator went down a couple floors, were Warren‘s terrified, agonized screams.

The Watcher’s Council, England

Giles picked up the phone. It had awakened him from his personal hell called a hangover. He had been lying there in the bed in his room when the sharp ring tore though his senses, alerting him in his sleep. His room in the Watcher’s Council reminded him of a barracks in a military instillation. Not too small, but never big enough.

“Rupert Giles,” he croaked groggily into the phone, his voice revealing how drowsy he still was.

“Rupert, this is Doctor Harrison.” The voice on the other side of the phone was saddened, and Giles contemplated what could possibly be wrong right now.

“She’s snapped…She’s gone, Rupert,” Dr. Harrison said, a rising anxiety in his voice.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Rupert demanded loudly into the phone, irritated by the cryptic message.

“Buffy. The Key just died half an hour ago and the Slayer didn’t take it too well. She’s tearing through our doctors like nothing and she just doesn’t seem to give a flying fuck.”

“Dawn died.” Giles choked, finding himself damn near unable to say it. Tears threatened at his eyes, and he bowed his head, refusing to believe the doctor.

“I’m sorry, Giles.”

“It’s can’t be. There must be something wrong, a technological mistake of some kind. Dawn can’t be dead. I could have protected her, but I left them, when they needed me the most.” Giles whispered, tears falling down the rough planes of his face. “God, I’m such a bloody wanker. Buffy was right, I should have never left.” He dropped the phone to the floor, too consumed by his misery and grief to even care.

Dr. Harrison waited for a couple seconds before hanging up the phone himself.

“I have to do something. Maybe the Council can help…”

**********

Tara lay next to Willow, the two of them still fully clothed, unable to even think about any physical intimacy until they found out how Buffy and Dawn were. Willow’s head was snug in the crook of Tara’s neck, her arms wrapped around Tara’s waist for reassurance.

“I just can’t believe it, how could Warren do such a thing?” Willow asked angrily, still unable to formulate an answer as to why Warren would attempt to take Buffy’s life.

“I don’t know. He was a geek most of his life; he was probably always getting bullied around by people and he finally let it all out, all this pent up rage. To him, the Slayer was just another bully.” Tara offered the best explanation that she could muster up right then.

“Well, what about Dawn?” Willow asked.

“Just an innocent bystander. And I’m sorry if I sound like I’m quoting statistics but he hadn’t meant to shoot Dawn. It could have just as easily been me,” Tara said sadly, shivering at the thought, though it was pretty warm in the room.

“It doesn’t make it right…” Willow said, her eyes widening as an idea hit her. “What about magic? Could we take back time?”

“No Willow, we can’t. We use our powers for good things, but we can’t interfere with the course that has been planned out before us. Haven’t you learned anything yet?” Tara asked, repressed anger rising in her voice.

“But this is a good thing.” Willow insisted.

“You haven’t really changed. Have you?” Tara asked, getting out of the bed hastily.

“Baby,” Willow pleaded, “I just want to help.”

“God…Willow you just don’t get it. We have to be responsible with our magic. What if this spell doesn’t work and it causes you to go off into the deep end again? I really couldn’t be with you then, and maybe this isn’t supposed to work out. You and me, we’re so different, Willow. Rules are made for a reason, as well as our powers. You‘ve got to realize that the world doesn’t revolve around you, or anyone else. We just have to live life and do the best we can, even if we lose the people we love. It’s kind of what life’s about.”

Tara spoke softly, tears running down from her eyes. “I want Dawn back, too, I loved her so much, but that doesn’t give me the right to abuse magic to bring her back. I thought you’d learned your lesson with Buffy, but I guess you never did.”

“You don’t know what it feels like to lose someone you loved. I’ve known Dawn for so long. You didn’t, you don’t have all these memories of someone like that.” Willow spat vehemently at her.

Tears streamed down Tara’s face. She had a look of disgust and shock cross her face. “In case you forgot Willow…I lost my mother.” And with that Tara strode out of the room, leaving Willow by herself.

Willow wept, with no one to soothe her.

Sunnydale Jail

Andrew paced around the room, paranoid, his eyes wandering all throughout the jail, as if someone would pop out and strike him at any moment. Jonathan was laid out asleep on his bunk, snoring softly, with absolutely no worries on his mind. Andrew knew Warren was coming, he could feel it in the air.

It was the Force.

Warren was the Dark Sith and Andrew was his apprentice. Anytime now he’d return for him; he wouldn’t leave him stranded in Sunnydale’s jailhouse to be somebody’s butt monkey.

Jonathan woke up with a start, sweat beading on his forehead. He looked around the room and saw that all was clear before laying his head down again on the pillows. Andrew stared at him with a look of indifference. He was not the apprentice, so he did not matter. He was just another lamb that needed to be sacrificed in order for Andrew to ascend.

After watching the other inmates for another hour, Andrew fell asleep.

Sunnydale Hospital

Xander and Spike got out of the elevator on the second floor. The weakened vampire had his arm around Xander for support, and they were off to go look for some blood bags to help Spike heal his wounds. He wouldn’t be of any use to them right now if he couldn’t last two seconds with the Slayer. They walked for a couple of minutes, searching, and as they turned one of the corners, they bumped into Dr. Harrison.

“Sorry about that, mate,” Spike mumbled to him.

“Don’t worry about it. Is there something you need?” Dr. Harrison asked, arching an eyebrow at the two of them.

“To get away from a potentially homicidal Slayer,” Xander said, instantly realizing he had revealed Buffy’s identity to a complete stranger. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell. I’ve known for a while who Buffy was,” Dr. Harrison said.

“How do you know so much?” Spike asked suspiciously, exerting some energy into pulling his pack of smokes from his duster. He pulled one out of the box and lit it, dragging deeply of the rich tobacco smoke.

He blew some of it into Dr. Harrison’s face, who promptly coughed at the invasion of the tobacco smoke into his lungs. “I’m a demon who works for the Council. I was told to watch over Buffy after the whole Glory incident,” Dr. Harrison explained, grimacing at the look Xander and Spike were giving him.

“You’re a demon who works for the Council? That’s kinda hypocritical, isn’t it?” Spike asked.

“Why do you say that?” Dr. Harrison asked.

“Because for years the Council of Wankers made the Slayers believe that all demons are soulless and evil and should be killed without second thought. And yet you’re a demon and you work for the bleedin’ Council,” Spike snapped angrily, thoughts of the beating he had received in the alley drifting into his mind.

You can’t love, you have no soul. There is nothing good or clean in you. I could never be your girl…

Each word punctuated with a sharp punch to his face, breaking his jaw, caving his face in…

Tears of anger and humiliation welled in Spike’s eyes. With deceptive speed Spike grabbed the doctor by the front of his shirt, lifting him in the air. His eyes began turning golden, and his face elongated without completely going into gameface. “Give me one soddin‘ reason why I shouldn’t rip out your fucking guts,” Spike demanded harshly, the rest of his demon face coming up to the surface.

“Because it’s the wrong thing to do. You’ve been in my position before, haven’t you, William? Being a demon, yet pretty much useless in a fight,” Dr. Harrison said.

“I wasn’t useless. I fought demons and helped the Scoobies from time to time,” Spike shot back defensively.

“Yeah, for a paycheck.” Xander tossed his two cents in.

Spike raised his scarred eyebrow at him and Xander immediately shut up. “I can’t beat you, Spike. You’re a Master Vampire. Me, I’m just a Slovakis demon. I’m pretty useless in battle.”

“Aren’t you tired of fights you know you’re going to win?” Spike had once asked Angelus.

“You do have a point, mate. I won’t kill you,” Spike mumbled, releasing the doctor.

“I don’t mind killing him.” Xander said, earning a scowl from Spike.

“But before I let you go, doc, I’m going to need a little bit of help from you,” Spike said, a malicious grin creeping onto his face.

“I’ll give you anything. You just tell me what you need.” Dr. Harrison exclaimed hastily, panicked and wanting to be as far away as he could from the Master Vampire as soon as possible.

“I’m going to need blood, and lots of it.”

The doctor nodded and the three of them headed off in search of some blood bags.

Upstairs in the Emergency Room

Warren was backing away.

Perhaps this was more then he had bargained for, now that he was no longer invincible and no longer holding a gun. If only Spike and Xander hadn’t interfered, he’d still have his gun and he’d dispose of her quickly. Only he quickly realized that that wasn’t going to happen as he was flung across the room into a computer monitor, knocking it over.

He was in pain, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he’d die today at the Slayer’s hands.

And that sucked.

Buffy slowly walked toward him, hips swiveling seductively, a malicious glint in her eye.

“Don’t you wish you had your gun Warren?” With lightning speed she charged him and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off the receptionist’s desk.

“Let go of me, you bitch.”

“I would, but you kinda killed my little sister. And now I owe you one,” Buffy replied, the anger in her soft voice coming through loud and clear.

“I’m sorry, all right? Please, I’m sorry,” Warren pleaded.

“Sorry isn’t gonna bring her back,” she spat, punching him in the face and sending him flying across the room into a wall, the drywall caving in from the force of the blow.

“You don’t wanna do this, Buffy. You’ll be a killer too if you kill me, and you don’t want that for yourself. You’re not like me, Buffy. You’re not a petty criminal,” Warren babbled, his beady eyes searching the room for some sort of escape.

Buffy grabbed the discarded gun that was laid out on the floor. “So you think murdering my sister was petty?” Buffy asked.

“No. I didn’t mean that…” His voice was cut off by the cracking sound as the 9mm was fired, followed by his screams.

He slumped the floor, screaming still as the bullet was buried deep into his abdomen. “Let’s play doctor.”

There was no doubt in the Slayer’s mind that her sister’s killer would die tonight…along with a precious part of herself.





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