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Now
* * *
Abandoned US naval compound, the Holy Loch, Scotland
It’s hard to think about what happened then, Dawn was gone and despite getting to the door as quickly as possible there was nothing I could do. Spike was right behind me, still in absolute agony after his abortive attack on Willow, and the two of us stood out in the middle of the street looking around frantically for the girls. There was absolutely no sign of them, I guess I should have expected that, Willow was a pretty damn powerful witch and by opening herself up to the forces behind the Slayer’s power, she’d allowed those powers to take over. It must have been an easy task for her to conceal herself and Dawn from us. It’s doubtful if there has ever been anyone as powerful as Willow was then. I hope there never will be again.
It was twelve months later and Xander sat back in his chair, reviewing what he’d written. Remembering the past like this hurt more than he’d admit to anyone, especially now, but he had to get this written while it was fresh in his mind. To stop it from happening again. There was an apologetic knock at the door and, after a few seconds debating whether to ignore it or not, he glanced over his shoulder. His rooms at the compound were on the uppermost floor and not many visitors made it up here on a whim – whatever it was, it had to be important.
The girl standing in his doorway was no more than 15 but looked already as though she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. It was a look he’d seen a lot over the years, first on Buffy, then Faith, and most of all on Giles. A cynical smile came across his face, hell he saw that same expression every time he looked in the mirror these days! She coughed lightly and said shyly,
“Mr Harris? They’re ready for you now.”
It was time. He smiled gently at her, she was clearly over-awed by her surroundings and he couldn’t blame her for that. Putting an arm protectively across her shoulders he led her from the simple office and then followed her down stairs to the makeshift conference room on the ground floor.
There were six of them seated around a rickety table and as he and the girl entered she left him to claim one of only two empty seats. That gave him no choice but to take the remaining seat at the head of the table. He could feel all eyes on him as he crossed the room. None of those present were strangers to him now but the expressions on some of their faces were relatively new; something there he wasn’t used to seeing from these people – respect. Scraping the chair across the floor as he pulled it out, he winced a little at the noise, aware of the added attention he was drawing to himself, but no one seemed to care. He nodded to them as he sat, waiting to see who was going to start the shouting match this time. No one it seemed; there was an awkward silence around the room, broken only by the shuffling of feet as people shifted uncomfortably in their seats. There wasn’t time for this, he had his own decision about the immediate future made and he needed to know where the others stood. He cleared his throat and waited until he was sure he had their full attention.
“So. What’s the plan then? Do we hide here and hope we go unnoticed? Or do we make a stand?”
None of them would meet his eyes until eventually Tara spoke up. “You have to understand, Xander. We’ve all the lost so much.” Her eyes automatically sought out the broken man seated further down the table, none of them could have foreseen how things would turn out, the losses they would all suffer. Giles had suffered more than most however, and there were doubts as to whether he would ever fully recover mentally from the ordeal; what was clear was that he would never walk again. The ex-Watcher glared at her and Xander was glad to see a spark of the old fire in his expression.
”Dammit Tara! If anything that should make us fight harder!” Everyone stared at him; it was rare to hear Giles say anything any more. The man had drawn back from everything and everyone; he’d insisted that he shouldn’t have been brought along when they left Great Russell Street, that he’d only hold them back and they should make a clean break of things. None of them had been willing to go along with that, if they’d left him to the tender mercies of the Watchers’ Council they’d be no better than those they were escaping.
After what had happened over the Hellmouth, the Council had tried to gather together all the survivors and neutralise them – either by throwing vast amounts of money at them; by causing them to disappear or - with a very few - by bringing them into the fold. The latter option was what they had tried to do with Xander and the others, possibly out of a skewed sense of loyalty. For a couple of months things had been uneasy, established rules were re-established despite the new world order and the small group had found themselves gradually frozen out.
That had been just fine with Xander, he’d spent the past six years fighting against things he could barely understand and now everything he’d ever had any faith in had been torn away from him. He was tired. And then the lawyer had found the chambers in the basement of the Council building. Xander had heard tales of torture chambers, but he never thought he’d see one up close. For a short period of time – less than a day if truth be told - he tried to convince himself that maybe they were justified; the demons and vampires did a lot worse after all. But then he had seen some of the uses they put the rooms to, seen the victims. After that there was no turning back. He knew he couldn’t live with the knowledge of what went on beneath his feet. And so a few of them had broken out, taking those who wanted to go, helping whoever they could, and they had ended up here. In harm’s way
Xander could see Tara bristling under Giles’ assault, it wasn’t personal, they all knew that, but they’d been cooped up here in the back of beyond for months now and they were no closer to having a workable plan. Tempers were frayed and they were all lashing out at each other. It was also clear that this argument had been raging before Xander had arrived. The blonde sorceress opened her mouth to retaliate but an incredibly calm voice from the other side of the table interrupted her.
“Enough.” Oz said, his voice barely more than a whisper but the strength behind it forestalled any further comments. “We need to know more. Xander, you were there – why don’t you tell us how it happened?”
He’d been dreading this, and yet he knew there was no way to avoid it. They deserved to know the truth, all of it, no matter how painful. Settling back in his chair, he tried to process his thoughts; unheeded by him, the others also settled back, letting him take his time. He began quietly and yet every word resonated around the room.
“Willow had tricked us and taken Dawn, we had no idea where she was taking her or why. All we knew was that all the talk about helping Dawn realise her destiny definitely didn’t sound good. We knew we had to find them before Willow did anything that we couldn’t fix but neither of us had any clue where to start. And then it hit us, there was a self-help programme built into the Buffy-bot that meant whenever it was damaged it would automatically seek out Willow so she could repair it. All we had to do was do something to trigger that programme and since neither of us were particularly good with electronics that meant we’d have to fight it somehow.”
He paused for breath, remembering the gamut of emotions he’d felt at the time as he and Spike had lashed out at the simulacrum of his best friend. The ‘bot had them programmed into its recognition patterns as allies and as such it just stood there, taking the beating, until abruptly a recorded loop of dialogue issued from it.
‘You have injured me, I must find Willow.’ With that, the ersatz Slayer had sought the easiest means of escape and left – through the first floor window.
“We followed the ‘bot as best we could – it had an impressive turn of speed even when it was damaged – and we ended up in Harper woods on the outskirts of town not too far away from where Buffy was buried. There was a cave hidden in the side of the cliff face. The only way we found it was because there was this weird greenish light coming from it.
It had to be the right place, even on the Hellmouth it was pretty unlikely that something that obviously supernatural would be a coincidence; so we barged right in.”
“No such thing as coincidence – or leprechauns for that matter.” Giles interrupted him with a far away expression on his face. When he realised everyone was staring at him he raised his hand dismissively, “Never mind, go on.”
Xander cleared his throat, marshalling his thoughts before he started again in a flat emotionless voice concealing the inner pain.
“Spike made it into the cavern first but I was right behind him and we both saw it. Willow was there, but she didn’t look like Willow anymore. Her hair had turned almost black and her eyes had done the same. The ‘bot was on the ground beside the entrance to the cave, in pieces which were still smoking as if it had massively overheated – almost as if lightening had struck it. For a second we couldn’t see Dawn and I remember hoping that maybe she’d gotten away. And then I heard Spike gasp. He was looking above our heads at this huge odd-looking wooden wheel that was suspended just above us. Dawn was strapped to it with a gag across her mouth. She was conscious though, she knew what was happening…”
His voice faltered then, as the images replayed in his mind.
-The pain and betrayal in her eyes as she stared down at them.
-His own feelings of impotence as he stood beneath her, trying to fit his mind around what was going on.
-Spike springing straight upwards with vampiric agility in a futile attempt to free her from her bonds.
-Willow, still smiling, raising her hands and a blast of dark energy knocking Spike away from Dawn.
-The droplets of blood welling up along the gashes he could see were covering Dawn’s body, dripping slowly into an earthenware jar positioned directly beneath her, at his feet. The eerie green light they’d seen from outside was emanating from that jar and he felt pure horror as he realised what Willow was doing. She was draining the essence of the Key from Dawn’s body; she was going to use it to bring down the walls.
Finally words failed him and for the longest time there was nothing but silence in the room. Some of those present had seen the after-effects first hand, but only he and Spike had been there for the whole thing. Xander found himself looking directly into the eyes of the vampire. The pain he could see there, and the barest hint of madness, was a direct reflection of his own. Neither of them had been able to stop what happened, and both had been condemned to live with the memories.
* * *
Then
* * *
The Bronze ~ Sunnydale, CA
He opened the door of the club cautiously, not quite knowing what to expect. The street outside was badly lit making him wonder once again why they didn’t just paint a sign saying “All you can eat” for the demons and vampires – so many places from which to launch an ambush. The girl Tara was leaning casually against the wall under one of the very few overhead bulbs, still unsure of her motives, he let his natural curiosity get the better of him once again - it was a trait which had gotten him into trouble quite a few times in recent memory.
She watched him approach with a benevolent smile on her face; she could obviously see the questions in his eyes – damn! It was so much easier to hide behind the expensive suits! Here, dressed in jeans and button-down shirt, he felt exposed and vulnerable. Willing himself to gain control of the situation, he opened his mouth to speak.
“You needn’t bother, Lindsey. I know all the tricks they taught you as Wolfram and Hart’s golden boy. I can see through them so there really is no point trying to dazzle me with legal-speak.”
He was more than a little thrown by her words, she obviously knew more about him that he’d given her credit for.
“I take it you’re here on their behalf then? I meant what I said, I won’t cause them any more trouble but I won’t go back.” He had long expected the senior partners to send someone after him; hell he’d even invited them to do so. He knew too much about the organisation to just walk away scot-free. What they couldn’t know, however, was that he’d taken precautions against just such an eventuality. He glanced around, almost nonchalantly, and was pleased to spot his protector lurking in the shadows. She hadn’t wanted to come to this town but he had assured her they weren’t going to stay long. She’d relented, eventually.
“I’m not from Wolfram & Hart,” Tara replied, “I’m a friend of a friend.” She thought about that for a second and chuckled. “Well, actually maybe it’d be more apt to say I know one of your enemies – Angel.”
The name of his former nemesis caused his jaw to drop open. In retrospect it shouldn’t have been much of a surprise to meet someone who knew the vampire here, given that these had been his stomping grounds for a few years. Lindsey racked his brains, trying to recall the more recent files the company had had on Angel – he couldn’t remember any mention of anyone called Tara in them. Struggling for words he realised he literally had nothing to say – all those years of studying law at Hastings, and later working for Wolfram & Hart and here he was stunned into panic by the mere mention of the vampire’s name.
A movement from off to the side caught his attention – his panic must have been written across his face in neon writing. Part of him wondered why it was that this girl whom he had so wronged would agree to protect him like this, but mostly he was just thankful for whatever the reason. Tara watched his face intently, and he felt a little sorry for her, knowing what was likely to happen to her. Suddenly she shifted her gaze to the shadows beside him and said loudly.
"It’s alright, you can come out. I know you’re there.” She lifted her hand slowly, non-threateningly, cupped in the middle of her palm was a tiny crystal. As Lindsey watched dumbstruck, it began to glow with a bright light, almost sun-like. It dissipated the gloom
revealing the dark haired girl poised nearby. Tara smiled at her,
“Hello Faith, long time no see.”
Harper Woods ~ Sunnydale, CA.
The witch actually laughed then, watching the two of them piece together the information and the realisation come across their faces. Part of her was surprised it had taken them so long to figure it out. After all, death was just the self moving into another dimension wasn’t it? Did they really think she would let the one tool they had to open the dimensions into each other lie around unused?
She was a little unsure as to why this had become necessary, why the blood sacrifice during the rite hadn’t worked; she had been so sure the magicks inside her demanded the death of Anya. Perhaps it had been the choice of sacrifice – Anya still lived with the consequences of 1000 years of demonic activity, possibly not the wisest of choices in an attempt to resurrect a demon fighter. Still, there was no way using the Key could fail. All she had to do was open the portals and summon forth the Slayer and the tiny voice inside her screaming in protest over her actions would be silenced forever. The voice had been with her since the ritual began, demanding to be heard, but when the magicks had begun to course through her it had grown quieter and easier to ignore. It was just an insignificant part of her that used to be known as Willow.
Casting a contemptuous eye over her unwilling audience, she briefly considered casting another binding spell to ensure that they wouldn’t be able to stop her, yes, after the vampire’s botched attempt at a rescue that might be the best way to go. It was almost time after all and she couldn’t afford any more delays. Drawing the power up through her body from the ground below her feet, she could feel the magicks infuse her. She opened her mouth to begin the incantation, but before she could form the first syllable she was slammed to the ground by blur of movement and the darkness inside her grew to encompass her vision.
Throwing of her unforeseen attacker with ease, she dismissed the binding spell for the time being and instead intoned the secret words to activate the Key. There was a muffled gasp from above as the last of the life force was drained from the mortal body of Dawn and the girl slumped down against the restraints – nothing more than a dead weight now. Xander shouted, no words, just a general denial of what was going on, and for a brief instant the cave became a still-life tableau of horror. And then all hell broke loose.
The green light coming from the jar at Xander’s feet suddenly flared into blinding incandescence and Willow rose from the ground like a phoenix rising from the ashes. An ethereal wind built around the cave and there were faint noises coming from the walls. They sounded almost like screams and they were getting steadily louder. Xander felt a hand grip his arm and his head whipped round to see Spike pulling him away. He tried to pull back – they couldn’t leave Dawn – but the vampire was just too strong for him. He found himself being dragged towards the cave entrance against his will. Staring in disbelief, he saw a shape begin to form above the jar containing the last of Dawn’s essence. From the corner of his eye he could see something else moving, whoever it was that had thrown Willow to the floor was coming at him. Fast.
He tried to focus, but his brain wouldn’t believe what his eyes were telling him. The girl he thought he could see couldn’t be there, there was just no way. He hadn’t seen Faith for years and never thought he would again. She was screaming something at he and Spike, waving her arms as if she was flagging down a cab. Spike turned to see what the added commotion was and for a second his grip on Xander’s arm loosened a little. It was enough. Breaking free, he raced back towards Willow who was now hovering above the ground; buoyed there by magicks he had no hope of comprehending. She had her head thrown back in abandon, directly in front of her the gossamer shape was forming and amid the maelstrom of noise and screaming he could hear her maniacal laughing. He shouted her name, trying to reach her but it was clear it was too late.
There was one last flash of blinding green light and the screams and wind reached fever pitch and then suddenly stopped, as a heavy silence rolled across the cave. All light vanished and he found himself knocked to the ground; it was if the silence was a physical entity that flattened everything in its path. For an instant the world held it’s breath.
To be continued
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