Slayerless

Xander Magnet

Author: Xander Magnet
Rating: PG-13 (for the moment, may get violent later)
Feedback: Yes please! FB is the only thing that keeps me writing! (well that and the fact that the stories keep coming through my head!) Email me!
Spoilers: post season three
Summary: What would happen if the Slayer was out of commission? (I'm
hoping this will expand into a series, but for now I'm just going to
keep writing this part.)
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination, Joss and ME own
everything else. I'm just playing in a pretty big sand box.

The nagging ache in the back of her leg suddenly exploded into a searing fireball of agony. She slammed on the brakes but something wasn't right. Her heart stopped as the brakes locked and the car began to skid directly towards the back of the vehicle in front of her. She could see in excruciating detail the panicked expression of the driver in front of her as he stared into his rear-view mirror. He was frantically trying to get clear but there was nowhere to go. She gripped the steering wheel and tried to force the car onto the side of the road, out of the way. There was no conscious thought, she just wanted away. A glimmer of hope as it seemed that the car was beginning to come under control, but the hope was dashed as the car again hit the rain-slicked road surface and the wheels refused to grip. She could see that she was clear of the other vehicle though, so if she could only bring it under control then she might just get out of this alive. No sooner had that thought crossed her mind however, when she could see looming in front of her the crash barrier, erected to prevent cars from careening over the cliff edge, the damn thing was coming straight at her! There was nothing she could do, no way to avoid it, remembering her drivers ed class, she began to pump frantically on the brake pedal, desperately trying to make a difference, but nothing. Everything seemed to spin into slow motion and it felt as though the car was no longer moving, instead the barrier was coming towards her. In the split second before the car hit it, she thought, "This isn't how the Slayer is supposed to die…"

********************

She felt as though she was swimming through a sea of pink cotton wool. There was an oddly arrhythmic rushing sound all around her and some part of her knew it was her own heartbeat. Should it be irregular? Didn't that mean something wasn't quite right? It was as if the cotton wool had invaded her mind though, and she couldn't think clearly enough to form a coherent thought. She drifted away again.

Spinning gently within the warmth of oblivion, she gradually became aware of … something. She shook her head trying to clear it, trying to break free of this stupor that had her trapped. Her hand, that was it. Someone was clutching her hand. She tried to open her eyes to see who it was, but a jagged bolt of pain prevented her. It was as though someone was driving spikes straight into her brain. She struggled for a moment, trying to break through the pain barrier but a final spike 
drove her over the edge into the void.

********************

Again, she gradually became aware of the rushing noise, it seemed less erratic this time but she couldn't remember if that was a good thing or not. The darkness that had pervaded her senses began to bleed out and she was back in the warm pink glow. She knew there was something she was meant to be doing, something she needed to wake up for, but she couldn't remember what it was.

********************

They took turns sitting at the bedside, Willow and Giles forcibly removing Xander when they came to take over the vigil. He was blaming himself for the accident. Buffy had asked him if he could give her a lift but he'd been too tired to drive, perhaps part of him didn't want to take her to LA at all. She'd borrowed his car and gone anyway, despite the freak rainstorm that had come out of nowhere. 

They had all known she'd taken Angel's leaving badly. She was trying to hide it but she was clearly upset they hadn't had a real goodbye and eventually she had decided that she had to confront him. To at least find out what he was doing in LA by himself. Part of her clearly didn't want to let him go. They had all understood that but when she suddenly announced she was going they had tried to convince her it wasn't a good idea. He had only been gone for a few days, they both needed time apart, Sunnydale was still reeling from the fact the Mayor had been a giant snake and the Hellmouth needed her. 

There had been no persuading her, however, and she had pestered both Giles and Xander to get her to LA. Giles' car was in no shape to make the long drive and with Xander unwilling to make the journey she had gone by herself. Buffy could be incredibly stubborn when she wanted to and there was no way she wasn't going to go. Telling her to give herself plenty of rest stops along the way and providing a flask of hot coffee, Xander had handed over the keys to his Uncle Rory's car and waved as she drove away.

When the news of the crash came, they had all dropped everything and rushed to the hospital. Joyce was away on a gallery tour and would be out of touch for several days, Giles had left messages for her everywhere but there had been no response. It had been four days and Buffy was still in bad shape.

When she had been dragged from the car, the paramedics had been shocked she was still alive, the injuries she'd sustained in the crash were more than enough to kill a normal person. They didn't know Buffy's secret though – as the Slayer she had expanded healing abilities and with even a spark of life left there was always a chance the Slayer could pull through.

Four days later and she was still deep in a coma, her broken bones had healed, however, and the bruising was beginning to fade. None of the doctors could explain the remarkable healing rate, but they warned her friends that the longer she stayed in the coma the less chance there was of her waking.

********************

After an eternity of drifting in the warm pink glow, she gradually became aware of other things, sounds, voices. She tried to make out the words but a sharp spike of pain made her flinch away from the strain. Instead she let the new sounds surround her, become part of her. She knew the voices, she could feel the love in them, the worry. They blurred into each other, becoming distinct only rarely. She could imagine the faces that went along with those voices, the pale freckled redheaded girl with the green eyes, the smiling chocolate-eyed boy, the worried expression in the hazel eyes of the older man…She knew they were with her, she tried to reach out to them, ignoring the pain that spiked through her seemed to be getting easier.

Slowly, Buffy began to wake up.