The following night she was shot into wakefulness by Spike cursing. Despite the fact she’d been worrying about this she couldn’t help but giggle a little, even though no sound past her lips. Sending him the first thought was simple, as if they’d never spoken with each other any other way.
Spike?
Here again, huh? She could almost see him sighing.
Guess so.
There was silence for a moment.
Bloody hell!
She jumped a little. What are you doing?
Trying to get this bed into the crypt. The irritation was all too obvious from his voice and she felt her brow wrinkle.
Why do you want a bed inside a crypt?
It’s my new home.
Oh. She frowned again. Why would you want to live in a crypt?
A beat.
It’s a vampire thing, love.
It had to be. Who else but a demon would want to live in a crypt? Perhaps vamps had a thing for cold stony things, or old and dirty. She remembered the other ‘place’ he’d lived in, that one had definitely been dirty and old; ready to fall apart, if she remembered right. At least a crypt was sturdy, so this should be an improvement.
She rolled onto her side to stare at the alarm’s red numbers. 02:34. It had turned to 02:37 when one of them, she, spoke again.
So what are we gonna do now?
She should have told her.
“Buffy Anne Summers!”
She definitely should have told her.
Joyce looked down in the notebook for a second time. Carefully Buffy sat down by the isle, all the time keeping an eye on her Mother.
“Why didn’t you tell me!”
Buffy shrank back in the chair. She knew she should’ve told her, but the opportunity just hadn’t shown up. Or rather; she’d made sure the opportunity didn’t show up. Turning her head away, she swallowed hard. Last time they had talked, Mom had been so understanding... so accepting. Buffy felt the familiar burn behind her eyelids. It was her own fault. If she’d just talked with Mom directly after the talk with Giles. Hastily she fumbled for the notepad, wrote a line and slid it back across the isle.
‘sorry’
She looked away again, and barely caught a glimpse of Joyce’s softening expression.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Joyce said, walking around the counter to put an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “It’s just... it isn’t every week your daughter becomes dumb twice.” She tightened her hold for a moment.
Buffy grinned a little and her mother smiled back before she let go to walk over to the refrigerator. As she opened it, it was clear that the woman was trying to appear relaxed; Buffy could see the tension in her shoulders though. She appreciated it nonetheless.
“So,” Mom said, as she took out the juice, “How long will it last this time?”
‘Not long.’
Not long at all. For a moment she considered telling Mom about what would be needed to stop this, then quickly decided against it. As Joyce had just said, ’It isn’t every week your daughter becomes dumb twice’, Buffy really didn’t want to overwhelm her – more. Joyce didn’t know much about Slayer stuff yet, despite the pile of books on her bedside table. Books she’d borrowed from Giles. Right now, Buffy even suspected that her mother had read more about Slayers than she herself had; it warmed her.
“Not long?” Joyce put down one glass on the counter beside the juice, and reached for another. “Do you want some?” Buffy shook her head. “So you’re not sure how long it will last then?”
Shaking her head again, Buffy raised the pen again. ‘I’ll speak to Giles today. And avoid the few people I know.’
“Honey, they aren’t mean to you, are they?”
What was she, five years old? Buffy arched an eyebrow and her mom gave a small laugh.
“Well, you know what I mean. I suppose most of them know what happened to you, and sometimes people don’t know how to act or what to say.”
Buffy nodded, thinking about Alex. She promised herself that she’d tell her mother about the girl when she got her voice back, if only to ease the older woman’s worries. Then she stood up.
“Alright, run along.” Joyce laughed again. “But we’ll talk about this again when you get your voice back!”
So what do we do now?
They had decided to just get it over with.
She had told Giles about it and he’d been positive, right up to his demand that they were at his place. That had been a big ‘no’. The thought of sitting in her Watcher’s sofa, Giles staring at her, while... She shuddered. Spike’s crypt was very... very much a crypt. Except for the underground level. Honestly she was impressed that he’d managed to get a bed down there. But when she asked how he had done it though, he’d just winked at her and said it was one of his deepest secrets.
Now they were sitting side by side on the stone floor. Even though Spike had lit a couple of candles the place still lay in almost total darkness. The tightly shut door combined with the dank air and the darkness made her think of a prison cell.
Alright, I figured what should trigger this. Slowly, Spike raised his head to look her straight in the eye. You know what did it last time, right?
For a moment she just looked at him, of course she knew. What was going through that mind of his? She nodded.
Right. He ran a hand through his hair. Er... how did you think we’d set it off?
She arched her eyebrows. When they had discussed this last night he’d said he knew how to do it. Her first thought had been that they would simply have to wait until something triggered it again. The second one she hadn’t wanted to dwell upon.
Spike tilted his head to the side. You know.
Quickly she got to her feet and took a couple of steps away. It probably won’t work! I mean, it’s not like I can just command myself to... She closed her eyes.
For a moment she was completely still, then she slowly turned around again. With a sigh she went back to sink down across from him.
So do you think it’ll work? He asked.
I always avoid thinking about... him and that.... time. It shouldn’t be very hard to... She gave him a small smile. You know how easily I freak, this should only take a second.
Slayer, you...
She raised a hand and his voice died out in her mind. Her eyes fell shut again.
It was like when you’ve had a nightmare. You wake up in the middle of the night, gasping and sweating, realizing that it was just a dream. But as you lay down again, staring at the ceiling, you still can’t relax completely. Logic tells you it was only a dream, but your heart is still hammering and the fear is poking at the edges of your mind.
He was always poking at the edges of her mind.
So as she closed her eyes, all she had to do was focus on him, and even though a large part of her mind protested, she still couldn’t look away once she’d started. The trembling started. She could feel her hands shaking where they rested on her knees. His hand ghosted down her side in such a familiar way.
He hadn’t been sure she’d be able to do it. Or, he’d thought she could actually do it, but that she was too afraid, that her mind wasn’t strong enough. He could feel the exact moment she let go and the wall came tumbling down. Fire spread through his veins.
His first impulse was to try and shut her out, but this time he knew it was pointless. Instead he concentrated on forcing himself to open up. The first burst of pain had his eyes rolling back in his head and somewhere he could hear the Slayer whimper.
There was always a vibe over the places Angelus claimed as his. They tapped their foot against the fallen Sunnydale sign, taking a deep drag on the cigarette. They had never completely figured out how their Sire did it. He had never been one for the grand entrance; he wasn’t like them. While they’d roar into a city, the older vampire preferred a stealthy approach. But still... everyone knew he was there. Today it served in their favour though; they could be sure Angelus was here.
They knew their goal.
The faceless female had said the Slayer would be here. She was the one they needed, or so had they been told, at least. At first, they had doubted, they had suspected – hell, they still suspected! – that the female’s visits in their dreams were result of magic. And they knew magic always had consequences. Now though... They shook their head, flicked the cigarette to the ground, and started walking back to the car.
The female had pointed towards their goal and told them they couldn’t do it on their own, and well... they already knew that. It seemed almost logical that the Slayer would be the key. At least it had at the moment she’d said it. They had gone back and forth after that, but in the end... They were here, weren’t they?
And Angelus shouldn’t be hard to find.
His head rolled to the side. She had already given in, he could feel her bare against his mind. If he gave in completely too, this would probably be over a lot faster. Even as he thought the thought, he couldn’t will himself to be so open.
“Oh sweetheart, come here.”
They sniffled, climbing down from their chair and into Mommy’s waiting arms. Kissing their hair, she pulled them close. They buried their face in her neck and drew in her sweet scent.
“Now, tell me what happened,” Mom said.
Without raising their head they lifted the hem of their dress. Out of the corner of an an eye they saw the blood trickle down their leg from the cut knee. They pressed themselves closer to Mom.
“I tripped on the stairs.” Sniffle. “And Hannah just laughed!”
“Oh, honey.” Mom stroked her hair.
For a moment he felt anger well up inside him, why in hell did he have to go through this? But it died the next instant again. He’d no reason to be angry, nor did he have the energy. His sight was becoming blurry. Another flash of pain and he could feel the next memory pushing its way forward.
“How are you feeling today, Mother?” They studied the woman across from them. She had dark circles around her eyes, and her complexion seemed to become paler by each day.
“Oh William,” their Mother said, placing a hand atop of theirs. “Stop worrying about me. You shouldn’t –” She was broken off by a fit of coughing.
It took close to a minute before she recovered. They turned their hand and gently squeezed the tiny, bony one in their grip. At last she wiped her mouth with a handkerchief before offering them a smile.
“Well, you know I am not perfectly fine,” she said. “But that is no excuse for you to be watching over me like a hawk!” She gave them a stern look. “You should spend some more time with people at your own age, I know there is a young lady you’re fond of.” A wink.
“Mother...” They looked away, feeling a slight blush creep up their cheeks.
His head rolled to the side and his eyes fell on her. She was panting, her eyes wide open but unfocused. For a moment another way to completely stop this occurred to him and he could see his hand closing around her throat, almost hear the bones crush.
“How did you get her?” Was that disgust in his voice? Or simply curiosity? They didn’t really care. “You must’ve tricked her somehow, I’ve never seen a Slayer who-“
He snickered. “Yeah, and you’ve fought so many.”
“I didn’t gain the title Slayer of Slayers for nothing, mate.”
Laughter echoed through the place but the vampire beside them didn’t say anything, even though they could almost taste the anger that had begun rising in him. The hands came back to touch them. They graced their dirty hair and then roughly pulled at their wrist. They knew what he wanted now; reaction. But their muscles were still numb and they definitely would not awaken for a vampire.
“Have you put a spell on her or somethin’?”
“Nope. That’s what twenty days of torture does to a Slayer.” He said.
“You mean raping and blood drinking.”
“And some whipping and beating.”
He wouldn’t be able to do that. Slowly he felt himself relaxing and he let his eyes fall shut.
“Hey, Spike.”
They threw a glance over their shoulder, groaned and turned back to their glass. Not again. Hastily they drowned the glass and lifted the bottle of whisky to refill it.
The woman sat down on the stool beside them, grabbing their bottle and helping herself. They gulped down their refilled glass, then pushed it aside and turned to the woman beside them. She had one hand around their glass but her eyes were on them.
“Something you wanted, pet?” they asked.
“Well.. yeah.” The woman shifted in his seat, looked down in her glass for a second and then at them again. “Remember last time you were here? W-when you said you wouldn’t kill me?”
They blinked. “I didn’t promise that, did I?” God, who knew why they had hooked up with the woman in the first place, or well, maybe Jack could tell them. He must have been the one to inspire them.
“Well... no, but –”
They stood.
They had seen a lot of dead bodies during their two months as the Slayer. Most of the time it was drained people and it didn’t look so bad usually, just two wholes in the neck. It was worse that time when they had met a demon that ate hearts.
He was lying on his back, the front of his white shirt stained red. A book lay beside him, an grotesque demon on the cover. For a sick second they almost smiled, but then their gaze was drawn to the the watcher’s face. They had believed that people found some kind of peace in death, but the man’s eyes were filled with fear.
His throat was ripped out.
They stumbled away, nausea filling them. A second later they threw up over his rose bushes.
For a second they were still two beings, but then the resistant one finally gave in completely. Their minds smashed together.
Two pairs of eyes snapped open.
Everything began to spin. Flashes of faces swirled before their eyes and the blaze went higher. A united gasp of pain – then everything turned black.
TBC