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[Passion] She won't let you go
Keep you down below
Dark crypts of your soul
Locked inside your head
You're better off dead
Ayeron = Day Twelve: Trauma

*Initiative HST testing center, that afternoon*
Riley, flanked by Graham and Jimmy, walked into the room to escort the woman to the holding cells. He’d been present for most of the testing, so he had seen the results. There was nothing there to indicate she was anything more than a middle-aged, human woman, just like his mother.
She raised her tired gaze to him. “Anything else you need to poke me with?”
The way she phrased her question, coupled with his last thought made him feel very uncomfortable in her presence. “Uh, no, ma’am, we’re just here to take you to your… ah… quarters.”
She raised a perfectly plucked brow at him. “And it takes three weapon-wielding men to take one confused and weakened woman to her, what, her cell? Is this how you treat defenseless women?” She raked her gaze up and down his body. “Is this the hospitality of the US Army? I am a citizen and have rights, you know.”
“Ma’am, you are related to an HST and—“
“HST. That horrible woman that keeps talking to me while my rights are being violated mentioned that before. What’s that supposed to be?”
“Hostile Sub-Terrestrials, they’re—“
“Are you kidding me?” She got up from the gurney and planted her fisted hands on her hips. “Was my daughter hostile with you in any way, shape, or form, before you kidnapped her?” She made a sweeping gesture around the room. “And sub-terrestrial? Why are you pots calling the kettle black? I’m pretty sure this whole place is underground.”
“Well, see, technically—”
“And we come back to the rights part. I’m, as I said, a US citizen and I demand you respect my rights. I was abducted, harmed, examined without my permission, detained, questioned without a lawyer present, and I’m sure another list full of illegal shit. My ex is a lawyer, so if I tell him about this he’ll have you all Court Martialed. This is your last chance: either let me go, and I’ll make sure the authorities understand you were just following the orders of a lunatic, or take me to what I can only assume is a cell, and become no better than the Nazi soldiers taking people to the ovens just because they didn’t stop to question if their orders weren’t plain wrong.”
Riley gulped. Ever since that morning when Maggie had sent him to pick up someone who, by all accounts, was a civilian, he’d felt more and more uneasy about what he was being asked to do. If he were completely honest with himself, he hadn’t felt good about the mission since he’d brought Buffy in. Still, orders were orders, so he raised his weapon and told Mrs. Summers to follow him.
She raised her chin high. “Just one last question, since I see you all decided to be Stormtroopers: when all is said and done, and you’ve run all the tests you had to run, what will happen to me? Do you think your boss will just let me leave? Or will she arrange for some sort or accident?” She took another step towards them. “What I’m saying is this: I’m a human, and the fact that you’ve kidnapped me and put me in here means my eventual death is on your hands.” She raised her hands with her wrists touching and the palms up, as if she had handcuffs on. “So take me to my cage.”
There was a roaring noise in Riley’s ears. This woman was saying things she shouldn’t be. She was implying that they were— He couldn’t think about all that. He had his orders. She needed to go to a—what had she called it?—cage? In the HST confinement area. A human locked up with monsters. And he was the one supposed to put her there.
He shook off those thoughts again and took her to her cell.
~~~***~~~
*That evening, in front of Lowell House*
Faith was really anxious. Joyce’s disappearance that morning before she got to work was almost certainly the Initiative’s fault, which meant they now had the two women Faith loved most in the world locked up in their cells. Faith wanted to go to war with the fuckers.
And war was coming. Spike almost went on a rampage when he found out Joyce was taken. He blamed everyone—Faith in particular—and went off to ‘blow the bastards’ back door open.’ Which brought Faith and both the Sunnydale and LA crews to their current location: spread out, hiding around Lowell House and waiting for Spike’s minion to give the ‘go’ signal. The bookish looking guy named Dalton wasn’t what Faith expected as Spike’s ‘right hand vamp,’ but he seemed to be confident enough.
A scooter drove up to the front of the frat house and the delivery guy rang the doorbell while carrying a stack of pizzas.
One of the soldiers answered the door, but didn’t seem too pleased to see the food. “We didn’t order anything.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I almost get fired because we were late with the order so you get it for free, and now you say there’s not even an order?”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“This is Lowell house, yes?”
“U-huh.”
“Two pepperoni, three ham bacon specials, one veggie, one Hawaiian. Some guy called Jimmy, Johnny, Jerry, or something, made the call like forty minutes ago.” The delivery guy shoved the pizzas in the soldier’s arms. “Here, you take them, I’ll bring you the order and you can sort it with your frat buddies.” He then stomped over to his scooter and took off like a bat out of hell.
The doorman passed the pizzas to another soldier who had probably come to see what all the commotion was about and made to run out of the house.
That’s when Dalton brought out a remote control and pushed a button. The pizza boxes exploded, leaving a gaping hole where the Lowell House door and the two soldiers had been. “Go now. Go.”
Seeing two people blow up had left Faith shaken, but she couldn’t afford to linger. Joyce and Buffy were those guys’ captives, and who knows what was being done to them. The Slayer ground her teeth and set off for the house. War has casualties, and it was better those be from the bad guys.
She could see the others hurry towards the house, hear the alarms blearing inside, and feel the heat from the still burning doorway, so she decided to crash in through one of the side windows.
She knocked a couple of guys out cold right off the bat, surprising them as they were hurrying with fire extinguishers to the ruined doorway.
Dalton helped Willow and Jenny climb through the window Faith had come in through, and the two women went straight to the computer next to the gaming center.
Two more soldiers came into the room, looking dazed and confused, and Faith made quick work of knocking them both out as well. By the time she was done, Willow was all but bouncing in place. “I got it, their security grid is offline. I’m still working on the cells, but you can get down there now.”
Dalton piped up from where he’d just closed the door the soldiers had come through. “Don’t worry, Slayer, I’ll make sure nothing happens here.”
Faith exchanged a glance with Wesley, and then she was off down the corridor she knew lead to the elevator that would take them to the secret Initiative lair.
~~~***~~~
*Tunnel system close to the Initiative complex*
Spike checked his watch. The exploding pizza should already have been delivered, so it was time he made his entrance. He pressed the detonator and the charges his men had set up over the past twenty-four hours blew up one by one, opening up the way for his invasion force. Before the dust had even settled, his men were busy removing the rubble and clearing a path. Sometimes it paid to not have to breathe.
He used his hands to throw pieces of rock out of his way, not caring where they landed, as long as he could go forward. He had business on the other side of the pile.
~~~***~~~
*Initiative cells*
Joyce’s heart all but jumped out of her chest when the alarms started blearing. She saw a guard take out a walkie-talkie and start talking into it.
Joyce knew the reason for the commotion: the cavalry was coming. She closed her eyes and sent a prayer that everything was going to plan. She got shaken out of her revelry by a series of loud rumbling sounds that seemed to build on each other. Spike was making his entrance through the tunnels.
Joyce started pacing and wringing her hands. She was giddy with anticipation, despite feeling almost crippling levels of fear. Was this how her daughter felt on a daily basis as the Slayer?
She didn’t have long to dwell on that thought, as the lights flickered for a bit before coming back on. When they did, though, the barrier she’d been pacing in front of shimmered and disappeared. She knew Willow was probably responsible, but could hardly believe it. She tentatively put her hand out and when she didn’t encounter any resistance, it took every bit of strength not to fall to her knees and cry out in relief. She wasn’t sure if she should just burst out though.
The demons in the other cells didn’t seem to share her qualms. They all rushed out of their cages as soon as they realized the barriers were down. She heard a shout, probably from the soldier using the walkie-talkie earlier, but it was drowned out by growls, snarls, and ripping sounds.
As she stood there, frozen in indecision, a vampire stopped in front of her and bared her fangs.
Joyce took a step back and tried not to show any fear. “I’m the Slayer’s mother. I’m helping your Master, Spike, to take this place down.”
The vampire cocked her head to the side and just stood there, panting. Then she growled and made a ‘come here’ gesture. “I’m supposed to kill any human I see, but I’ll give you a pass and escort you out, since you’re related to the Slayer. Stay close, or you’re on your own though, got it?” She looked down the corridor before pinning Joyce with her yellow gaze again. “How are you helping us, exactly?”
“There might be heat sensors. I’ve got normal body-heat, so…”
“I guess that could work. Let’s go.”
Joyce was glad for her quick thinking, but she needed to press for more. “I need you to take me to my daughter. She should be in one of the cells here.”
The vampire groaned. “I’m supposed to be on ‘hunt and destroy,’ not ‘Slayer rescue party.’ That’s the Master’s job.”
“Please. She’s my daughter.”
The vampire groaned again, louder this time. “Fine, come on, just try not to die.”
“Thank you. I’m Joyce, what’s your name?”
“Penny. Now move.”
~~~***~~~
*Initiative HQ*
Maggie Walsh was furious. After the initial attack and breach on Lowell House, the whole Initiative was under siege, both from inside and out. Vampires and other demons were crawling out through some outlying tunnels, the HSTs were out of their cages, and all security measures were down, so she couldn’t even get a clear picture of what was happening.
The walkie-talkie chatter didn’t sound good. The upstairs Armory was off-limits, as some hostiles had barricaded themselves there and were laying suppressing fire. The troops down below were being overwhelmed, and without control of the automated lock system, the demons were free to go through the whole compound, eliminating resistance corridor by corridor, in a frightening display of organized ferocity Maggie hadn’t been sure they were capable of. Maybe they weren’t as mindless as initially postulated. Or it was possible that because they were underground, it somehow heightened their abilities.
She cursed the fates for the probability that she wouldn’t get to test the new theories running through her head in the face of this unprecedented attack. She wasn’t even sure she would survive anymore, considering the fact that all the exits, including the elevator, had turned into hostile entrance points.
“Doctor Walsh.”
Her heart gave a jolt as she picked up the transmitter from her desk. “Yes, Dr. Angelman?”
“I’m in the Project 314 room now.” Some noise could be heard through the static. “They’re coming through and I don’t think anyone can stop them.”
“Can you save our work?”
“I can try to—” a very loud crash reverberated through the speaker. “No, please, God , no. No.” There was a sickening squelching sound, then the line went dead.
“Angleman.” No reply. “Angleman are you there?” There was still nothing. She cycled through the channels, noting more than half of them had gone silent, whereas the main channel was a cacophony of shouts and pained screams. The Initiative was losing.
Her eyes focused on the wall of monitors showing only static. She eyed the one that had been set to the Slayer’s cell for the past few days. Maggie knew, deep in her gut, that the attack they were under was all Summers’ fault. She raised the walkie-talkie to her mouth and issued what she feared would be her last order. “Everyone, converge on Hostile 17’s cell. Shoot to kill.”
She didn’t even listen to see if anyone acknowledged her order or not. Instead she checked her sidearm was loaded and the safety was off, that her Tazer was charged, and then walked out into the madness.
~~~***~~~
*Initiative complex*
Buffy was trying to find the nearest exit, but all she could see were identical tunnels branching out everywhere. The ones that were ‘named’ didn’t help much either. Who decided ‘H.A.2.12’ was a good way to indicate a direction? Why couldn’t just one say ‘exit?’ Sure, she could follow the demons running amok, but they seemed more interested in systematically dismantling anything human-made, rather than finding a way out. Spike’s scorched-earth policy in action, no doubt. She couldn’t really blame them, considering she’d been on the receiving end of the Initiative’s brand of hospitality. What she wanted was to just let them do their thing and get out. She wanted to see her Mom again. She also missed seeing the sky. Of course, a better idea would be to take a shower, curl up, and cry her heart out for what humans had done to her.
She also wanted revenge, but whatever she might do wouldn’t compare to what they had coming from Spike’s death squads.
Spike. She’d have to apologize to him for not believing the Initiative would want to do their experiments on her. She’d probably have to thank him for bringing it down, too. She did not look forward to either of those things.
She also really needed to get to Willow, or Ms. Calendar. Either one or both of them must have already hacked the Initiative to open the doors, so Buffy hoped they could be counted on to wipe any records of the testing done on her. No way did she want anyone to have access to whatever Maggie Walsh got from the days of ‘cut, bleed, repeat.’ There were some hard copies somewhere too, but that was nothing a bit of arson wouldn’t fix.
Apparently Buffy Summers couldn’t make it through one year without either burning something down, or blowing something up. Ah, well, such is the life of the Slayer.
A soldier blocked her path. She recognized him as one of the goons who shadowed her throughout her testing. She punched him so fast and so hard he didn’t even have time to aim the rifle he was holding. The crack his head made against the wall made her feel both uncomfortable, and good at the same time. She looked down at him, trying and failing to feel any compassion as a vampire came up from behind her and started ripping the soldier apart.
Buffy turned a blind eye and moved on.
As she got to another intersection she looked at the identifying plates. “Which way do I wanna go? T.A.2.21, or H.A.2.17?”
“Oh, you don’t want to go to the TA. Bad things happen to good people there. Then again, Sunshine isn’t so good anymore. There’s a fly in my soup.”
Buffy whirled around and gasped. There were two vampires just a step behind her. The female seemed familiar, but the male was who she remembered most. “Angel.”
He spread his arms wide. “Hello, Buff. Missed me?”





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