A/N: This is for all of you who have been wondering about Willow and the
others. And no, I didn’t forget them in the scheme of things. This is only
the first of several interludes, by the way. I hope to be updating more
frequently, though I make no promises. Thanks for sticking with me, and
enjoy the chapter!
Willow woke with her back pressed against cold stone. The manacles at her
hands clanked as she shifted positions, and she shivered in the cold. She
had no clothing to provide protection against the elements, such that they
were.
Across from her, Xander was sitting upright, staring at the window on the
wall above her. Pale light entered through there, the kind you see during a
stormy day. If she could’ve seen the sun, Willow was relatively certain it
would be a pale ball in the sky, shrouded by clouds, and nothing like the
warm, friendly sun she loved.
She rolled over, and reached for Dawn. The younger girl was still asleep,
but scrunched up uncomfortably in the corner. Willow was stuck deciding
which was more important; her own warmth, or Dawn’s sleep.
“Dawn,” she whispered. “Dawnie. Wake up, sweetie, before we both freeze to
death.” Dawn stirred, and then her eyes snapped open. They were shockingly
blue in the sickly light.
Dawn took quick stock of her surroundings, and edged toward Willow
carefully, making sure her back was to Xander, Spike, and Giles. She stayed
surprisingly self-aware, despite their continued exposure to each other.
They hadn’t seen so much as a shred of clothing since they’d gotten here.
Willow had gotten used to it quite quickly. Self-consciousness just didn’t
seem important in the scheme of things. There was nothing she could do to
change it, so why bother worrying?
Dawn, on the other hand, was pretty self-conscious. She was a teenager, and
she’d had a major crush on two of the three men in the cell. It made for
some uncomfortable situations, but she would have to get used to it. And
she would, eventually.
She finally reached Willow, and the two embraced. Dawn was shivering, and
Willow wrapped her arms around the girl, trying to keep her as warm as she
could.
Anya was in the opposite corner, out like a light. She was sprawled
comfortably across a good portion of the floor.
Willow stared up at the patch of sunlight filtered through to the opposite
wall. It wouldn’t be long now...
Ah, yes. The oak door swung open, and two of the guards entered, unlocked
his chains, and dragged Spike away. Presumably to join Angel. Spike still
refused to talk about where they took him during the day. Willow, for once,
trusted his judgment, and decided that she was better off not knowing.
Breakfast would come soon, now, and then they would begin their day of
cruel and unusual torture. Silent tears streaked down Willow’s face as she
thought of how she’d brought them all to this.
The sky had been taken with a red hue, she remembered. Littler flames
licked at the horizon, and the fires roared along with the demons which had
come pouring from the earth. The air was filled with flurries of black
snowflakes. Ash. In some places, the stench was terrible, and she knew that
people were burning there. She prayed to the goddess and ran on her way.
There had been no time to gather the girls. She’d screamed as loud as she
could, trying to catch their attention, or at least draw the demons from
them. But they were Slayers, chosen or not. They fought, and they died, and
Willow ran.
She couldn’t have saved them, and she repeated that to herself, over and
over again. Now she careened wildly toward Buffy’s house, desperate to get
there in time. A spell had been forming in her mind as she ran, and now she
realized that it had been there all along. Ash choked and burned her lungs.
Her legs felt like lead, but she ran, as fast as she could.
The door was open when she got there. Terror threatened to make her vomit.
A fireball streaked across the sky and plunged into the backyard. She
flinched. She thought they’d stopped...
Breathless, she dashed into the gutted house. Something snarling and dark
was in the kitchen, munching on a human arm. Viciously, Willow stilled her
own breath. It couldn’t see her, and she wouldn’t let it hear her. That
wasn’t her fate. Panic was beginning to overtake her, and she quieted it
relentlessly. There was no time for fear. She wouldn’t die this way. It
wasn’t her time, and she would. Not. Die. Here. She clenched her fists into
balls, and dashed up the stairs.
The bathroom door was locked, and there were fresh claw marks on the wood.
That was where they would be, if they were anywhere. She stood in front of
the door and rapped on it, hard.
She had to literally bite back a shriek when an axe head appeared in the
wood about a foot from her head. It had come from the inside. “Xander!” she
cried, terrified. “It’s Willow! Let me in!”
Something downstairs heard her. A wet snorting could be heard, and
something with scales gliding across hardwood floors. It was coming.
“Please, Xander, please! For the love of Artemis, let me in!!” Something
shifted behind the door. She suddenly questioned her assumption that it was
Xander in there, or even any of the Scoobies at all. Some of the demons had
arm enough to wield an axe. What if she was going out of the frying pan and
into the fire?
Something cracked on the lower steps. Willow felt her terror rising.
Wouldn’t they please, please just let her in? Save me! She felt like
screaming.
Without warning, the door swung open, and a pair of hands grabbed her and
yanked her inside. The door was shut behind her quickly, and something
heavy was shoved in front of it. She hugged Xander gratefully.
But something was bothering her. How had they gotten so much space in here?
It was really only a very small bathroom, and yet somehow...
A small, cool blue portal swirled lazily between the toilet and the sink.
Dawn was lying in the bath tub, and there was a piece of clear white quartz
glowing benevolently beside her. Dawn had her eyes closed, and lay very
still, but a sheen of sweat had broken out on her face.
“What’s going on?” Willow asked.
Xander crooked an eyebrow. “Well, I think the world’s ending. Not sure,
though; never lived through a successful apocalypse before.”
Willow was too tired to respond to the crack, and her pale face spoke for
her. “What’s Dawn doing? I mean, what has she done?”
Xander hugged Willow again. “Dawnie remembered something Tara taught her,
about herself and how she could use the Key for her own purposes one day,
if she needed to. She cut her arms, and bled on the crystal. Said some
words, and that portal opened. It seems to be connected to all the
Scoobies; Giles just left through it to check the Magic Box and try to find
Anya, and Spike is doing a sweep for the rest of the girls.”
“They’re dead,” Willow said. Xander cringed. A stinking, rotting stench
came from the hallway. Something slammed into a wall on the other side of
the door. Dawn twitched.
“We’d better get Spike back, then,” Xander said. He started to go into the
portal, but Andrew, who’d been silent up until now, stood to stop him.
“It’s okay, Xander, I’ll do it.”
Xander cocked his head at the odd show of bravery, but said nothing. He
stepped aside to let Andrew pass.
Willow sat down on the toilet. Her heart was threatening to hammer its way
right out of her chest, and her lungs were heaving with effort. She coughed
dryly, and then wiped the blood off her mouth with a tissue. Xander looked
at her with pain, but didn’t comment.
Willow got up and knelt beside the bathtub. She could now see the grotesque
streaks of blood on Dawn’s arms. The girl was very pale, and her breathing
was frighteningly shallow. Willow brought a hand up to her forehead, and
found it unusually cool. She turned Dawn’s arms over, checking the thin
cuts. The blood had started to clot, but not enough. Rusty brown dried
blood had caked on the edges of the bathtub, and there was still some fresh
running down the drain. Willow closed her eyes.
The portal was growing noticeably weaker. Willow wondered morbidly whether
Dawn would have to die to close it completely. And whether she was dying
now.
“Xander, we have to stop this. She’s...god, she’s weakening. I don’t know
what will happen if the portal dies. Or if she dies.” And we’re not safe
here, she added mentally. The stench was growing, and there was the sound
of snuffling in the hallway.
Willow didn’t realize she was beginning to hyperventilate until Xander
hugged her in reassurance. Tears streaked her white face. Xander held her
hands in his, and they collapsed together on the floor. Dawn’s breathing
was getting louder, more congested-sounding, and the thing in the hall had
not stopped its relentless search.
“Oh goddess, Xander, what are we going to do? It’s all come crashing down!”
Willow wailed into his shoulder. Xander stroked her back, trying to help
her breathe normally again.
He didn’t let her know that he was feeling the same way. The sense of
impending doom was like a wet blanket on their hopes. They knew it was
over, even though their survival instinct kept them fighting. This world
was doomed. They’d waiting too long, they’d made too many mistakes, and now
they’d come to the end. The apocalypse that got away. The armageddon that
finally did end the world.
Willow could not seem to stop her crying. Xander rubbed her shoulders.
“It’ll be okay, Wills. You’ll see. We’re gonna beat this thing. We’re gonna
survive, no matter what. We’re the Scoobies. Not even the apocalypse can
stop us.”
He didn’t know where the words came from. They embodied a hope that he
didn’t seem to have, but even as he said them, his hope was rekindled. He
kept talking, trying to bolster his own courage, as well. “You’re the most
powerful Wicca on the planet. We’ve got Dawn, who’s older than any of us.
We’ve got a two-hundred year old vampire, a Watcher, an ex-demon, a Slayer,
and me. We can beat this. We’re going to live. How many demons have we
killed? We won’t be cut down. Not like this. You’ll see.”
The portal flashed weakly, and Anya, Giles, Andrew, and Spike fell through.
Willow sat up, alarmed. “Kennedy! Where’s Kennedy?”
Giles sat up and wiped his glasses, looking everywhere but Willow’s face.
Even Anya was silent, finally choosing silence as the better part of valor.
Spike seemed to be the only one who could meet Willow’s gaze. “I’m sorry,
Red. She’s gone.”
The blow fell silently and swiftly. Willow covered her mouth with her hand.
She sobbed a few times, dry, heaving things that sounded more like an
effort to feel than an actual expression. Her face was already wet with
tears, but no more came. She felt hollow. Like all her insides had been
scooped out to make way for the machine she was becoming. She squared her
shoulders, and wiped her face. It was her time to be strong. It was her
turn to draw on the other personality that still lived inside her, the
strong will of Evil Willow, whose residue still resided in her.
“We have to get out of here. It’s not safe. We’ll go to L.A., try to catch
up with Buffy. That’s where all of this started. If we’ve got any luck at
all, we’ll be able to find her, figure a way to stop this thing. We’ve got
to try, at the very least.”
Everyone looked tired to her eyes. Empty, hopeless. Paler, thinner, less
real. These were people who had given up. Xander was rocking Anya back and
forth, showering her head with kisses. Who’d have thought that the ex-demon
would be the most afraid to die? Giles was staring at the ceiling, his
glasses filling up with tears. No doubt thinking about Buffy, his almost-
daughter. Spike sat on the toilet, his face set and grim, with the
expression of a man about to be sent to the electric chair. Andrew was
staring at the wall, his hands clenched in tight fists. He didn’t want
anyone to see that he was about to cry, but his face looked like it could
crumple at any moment. No hope in any of them. Willow wasn’t even sure that
any of them wanted to live. But she had to try. She owed that to them.
“We have to try!” she exclaimed, repeating herself. “Come on!” she said,
starting to get angry. “GET UP! This is not who you are! This is not who WE
are! We’re the Scoobies. The Slayerettes. The ones who fight the demons and
save the world! GET UP!! Get up and FIGHT, dammit!!”
Her face was flushed with blood and her eyes sparked with a mystical force.
Black light flickered in and out of them, fighting to be seen. She was
completely unaware of how gorgeous she looked, how strong. Xander lifted
his head, and Anya paused in her sobs. Giles and Spike looked at her, their
faces expressionless. But in them, she saw something dawning. She saw
something that looked an awful lot like the will to fight in their eyes.
Andrew, the newest and the most fragile of the Scoobies, was the one who
gave her her hope. He looked into her eyes, and she knew that he trusted
her. It didn’t matter what she’d done or who she’d killed, he trusted her.
He believed that she would take care of him, and she swore an oath to
herself that she wouldn’t let him down. She wouldn’t falter on her path a
second time.
Invigorated, she opened her mouth to speak again, to rally the troops, but
was cut off by the sound of cracking wood. A horrible odor wafted through
the door, stronger than ever. Something hit the door. The wood in the frame
began to crack, and the towel rack in front of the door rattled.
She didn’t have to guide them this time. Through some weird sixth sense
that had developed between them years ago, everyone knew that it was time
to get the hell out of there. Moreover, a shared glance confirmed their
destination. L.A. The city of angels.
Xander carried Anya and went through the portal first, followed by Giles.
Spike stopped at the mouth of it, and turned to Willow. “You got the Bit?”
he asked. There was a true tenderness in his eyes, and he looked at Dawn
with the worry of a concerned father. Willow gave him a faint smile, and
nodded. He went through, following the others.
Willow walked to Dawn, the steady pounding on the wood driving her faster.
“Medicore,” she whispered over Dawn. The skin on her arms began to crawl
over her wounds, cutting off the loss of blood and healing her. Dawn
twitched again, her lips curling and her brow frowning in an expression of
pain. Willow whispered I’m sorry, and then continued with her work.
“Libero.” Dawn began to lift up out of the bathtub, her hair waving crazily
beneath her levitating body. The girl snorted in her sleep.
Willow led her toward the portal, and she floated in quite easily. With her
passage through, the portal flickered weakly. It would be a matter of
seconds before it closed entirely. Willow took one last look around a house
that she instinctively knew that she would never see again.
Just then, the door shattered. Wooden splinters and chunks flew everywhere.
Willow threw up her arms to protect her face, but she still felt the burn
of the cuts on her cheeks and forehead. The thing had finally broken
through.
Cautiously, she lowered her arms and started backing toward the portal. Her
eyes were blurred, but as they gradually came into focus, she began to see
it.
It was black, made of some nebulous darkness that trembled in and out of
being, shifting from shape to shape. Willow had no doubt that it would be
solid enough when it attacked her, though. Her breath caught in her throat
as she slowly schooled her eyes to trace upward, to where the head was
supposed to be. She met its eyes.
Screaming, she fell backwards into the portal.
Back in the present, Willow was jostled out of her reverie by the
appearance of what their captors called ‘food’. The mushy substance turned
her stomach. Dawn offered her a weak smile. “It can’t be much worse than my
peanut-butter banana waffles. And you at least pretended to like those.”
“I did like those. And yes, this can be much worse than those. Look, I
think those are... Eeh, I don’t want to think about it. I’m not hungry now.
Maybe I’ll eat later.”
Dawn shrugged. Willow was lying like a dog, but there wasn’t anything she
could do about it. The food looked disgusting to her, too, but she couldn’t
afford to be choosy. Her stomach was rumbling and demanding food. Three
nights in a row, now, she’d woken up and felt the odd stretch in her bones
and skin. A growth spurt couldn’t have chosen the wrong time to come, but
nevertheless, she had to feed her growing self.
She sighed and dug in, with an optimism she only partially felt. Things had
to look up today. After all, they couldn’t get much worse...