Something to Sing About

Chp 13 Never Died



Tara and Xander watched as Willow sighed and reached out once more for their hands. Sitting on the floor, linked together, she was fighting against Ben on some magical level to control the power lines that fed Sunnydale. Suddenly the lights flickered and came on and the gloomy room sprang into sharp relief.

“You’ve done it, Will!” Xander said. “You’ve beaten Ben. You control the power grid.”

Willow frowned. “No. That was too easy. One second I could feel him holding me off, effortlessly. I couldn’t touch him - then – nothing. Almost as if he suddenly lost interest.”

“Do you think Buffy killed him?” Tara whispered, leaning against Xander’s solid shoulder.

The witch shook her head. “No – ” she frowned harder, sending her mind out into the darkness that Ben had thrown over the town. “No, he’s still alive, but just not concentrating.”

“So Buffy and Spike must be distracting him,” Xander said. “God, I could do with a drink.”

Willow stood up, went out into the kitchen and began to make coffee before the power went off again. She was using bottled water but at least it would be hot. She was confused. She had to admit she didn’t have to try that hard any more to keep control. She was even beginning to wonder if she could perhaps start on the water supplies at the same time.

She cupped her hands round her cup. Something wasn’t right. Ben had been all-powerful for so long. No one had had a chance against him. He’d killed her Oz as easily as swatting a fly and with less concern. So why should he allow her to take back some control of Sunnydale like this? Power made everyone‘s life much easier and surely that was something Ben didn’t want to happen. It didn’t make sense – unless –

A gentle hand on her shoulder made her jump. Tara smiled at her and poured herself a cup of coffee. “You’ve got your worried face on again, Will. Is it Buffy?”

“Something’s wrong. I know I’m not strong enough to beat Ben, but hey – hot coffee!”

Xander came into the kitchen, scrubbing at his face with his fists, fighting the desire to search every shelf for a forgotten can of beer. “I thought we’d agreed that Buffy’s probably making a nuisance of herself. Enough to take away some of his control.”

Willow shook her head. “No. This isn’t a lessening of his power – it’s more as if he’s lost interest because – ”

“He knows he isn’t going to be here long?” Tara said quietly. “Perhaps he’s found a way to open that devil dimension that Buffy and Spike were talking about.”

“So Buffy and Spike have lost the war?” Xander’s coffee cup smashed on the floor, dropped through his shaking hands, but no one noticed.

“Perhaps not the war, but I don’t think they’ve won the first battle,” Willow replied anxiously.

“We should have gone with them.” Tara felt suddenly ashamed of herself. She knew she wasn’t a brave person, knew that if she’d been stronger in the last few months, she would have helped Xander fight his drink addiction. Instead she’d turned a blind eye to it, hoping that it would just go away.

“She’s the Slayer, what could we do that she couldn’t?” Willow said bitterly. She still felt a surge of resentment against Buffy for not being here in this Sunnydale when Ben killed Oz. If she had been, then her wonderful partner wouldn’t now be lying in a grave in the cemetery, all twisted and broken from what Ben had done to him.

Xander was staring down at the shattered pieces of crockery at his feet. Bit like his life. Broken, ruined, a mess. He remembered a time, a couple of years back, before he’d found how nice the world looked through the bottom of a glass, when he would have tried to fight Ben himself. Oh, he wouldn’t have succeeded, but at least he’d have given it a go. Like Oz had done. And paid the price.

He felt remembered with a shudder how secretly relieved and pleased he’d been when Buffy and Spike had told the three of them to stay behind, that they would fight Ben on their own. Why hadn’t he ignored what they’d said and gone with them? Was this really who he was? A cowardly drunk? He stared deep into his mind and some little spark of the man he could have been, the man he was in another Sunnydale, flared into life.

“I think we need to go up to the hotel,” he said and almost wondered who it was who’d spoken, who was putting his life on the line.

Locked in a cellar, deep in the bowels of the hotel, Spike and Buffy were sitting, arms round each other, listening to the small sounds Faith was making as she slept. Her dreams were obviously not happy because her head tossed and turned from side to side.

“Faith as a mother takes a lot of getting used to,” Buffy murmured. “Even more than me having a baby.”

Spike stroked her hair. “Must admit I can’t see her in the role.”

Buffy sighed and got to her feet. “We need to explore this place again, Spike. There must be some way out.”

Spike joined her as in the dark she ran her hands over the stone walls and flagged floor. But there were no hidden passages or trapdoors that he could find. Suddenly he tensed.

“What?”

“They’re coming, pet. Probably for me, as Faith suggested. Spike’s going to be the entertainment for the rest of the evening! Well, it’ll be interesting to see if they can come up with better ideas of torture than Angel at his best!”

Buffy grabbed his hand, but Spike pulled away. “Listen! Don’t fight back, whatever happens!”

“Spike – I’m not just going to let them take you!” She reached blindly for him – she had to touch him once more! - but he’d moved away in the blackness.

“No, pet. I’m not important! What’s important is stopping Ben getting his nasty claws on that baby and bringing this world to an end.”

“But – but, I love you!”

The words came tumbling out of her mouth as the door crashed open and flaring light from great flaming torches blinded her for an instant and then she instinctively flung herself protectively across Faith’s body.

The monks hurtled into the cellar, laughing and yelling, reaching for Spike. She saw two go down under the vampire’s flying kicks and punches but there were too many for him to hold off and cursing, he was dragged by the mob from the cellar along with the bodies of the monks he’d killed and the door slammed shut behind them.

In the echoing silence, Faith wriggled out from under Buffy’s body and sat up. One of the monks had dropped a torch and the flames guttered and flickered, throwing out enough light so Buffy could see the other Slayer’s face.

“Came for him? Said they would.”

Buffy felt as though she’d been plunged into icy water. Her lips were too stiff to move, she could hardly speak. “They’re going to torture him, aren’t they?”

Faith groaned and rubbed her stomach. “Oh do stop it, baby! What? Yes, Ben will want to keep his grungy monks happy until either you or me produce the main event. And from the way this kid’s kicking, that won’t be long!”

“Will they dust him?” Buffy tried to stay calm. She wanted to hurl herself at the door, smash it off its hinges, run out and kill and kill –

Faith pushed back her long black hair from her face. “Oh no, they’re going to eat burgers and sit and watch TV together! Of course they’ll dust him. Eventually. But not just yet. Can he cope with pain? Because I reckon they’re going to inflict quite a lot.”

Buffy stood up. Would she hear if he called out in agony? Not with her ears, no, but even now she knew he was suffering. She could feel that with every nerve ending in her body. She remembered what he’d looked like when Glory had finished with him back in their other world. The bloody mess that ho bitch had made of his beautiful body and face.

She shuddered. Had she loved him then? She’d been so angry over the bot, but he’d protected Dawn from Glory and she’d kissed him. At the time she‘d seen it as a sort of reward, but in her heart of hearts, she’d known she’d kissed him because she’d wanted to feel his lips under hers. And what had caused that desire? Even then, although she’d never have admitted it, she’d had feelings for him, feelings she could never admit in that world.

But here everything was so different. They were married, in love, accepted by all their friends.

“Mega weird, you being all lovey-dovey with a vamp. Not something I ever thought I’d see. But then I never thought I’d get to meet another Slayer. Always taught that one of us had to die for the next to be called. Someone’s not been paying attention to the rules.”

Buffy frowned. Faith was right. She’d never died in this universe. OK, she’d gone missing, but did that count? Well, here was Faith, a Slayer, so obviously it did.

“What did you intend to do with your baby?” she asked suddenly. “I mean, you didn’t know I existed until we met. Were you going to keep it?”

Faith winced again and Buffy thought she could almost detect the glowing green light through the dark haired girl’s clothing. “Well, let’s face it, B, I knew it wasn’t a normal kid. I reckoned someone would be along to collect it, sooner or later. Must admit I had no idea exactly what!“

Buffy tried to concentrate on what was being said. Anything rather than think about what was happening to Spike. ‘Do you have a Watcher?”

“Used to. Well, still have, I suppose. But he’s gone back to England for some sort of conference. His name’s Wesley.”

Buffy sighed. Why wasn’t she surprised?

“When he left LA, there was hardly any demon activity around and he knows I can cope with any number of vamps, no trouble. Then I got word that Ben had arrived in Sunnydale– and Wesley – well, Wesley’s never come back so I headed on down here. And wham – glowing green baby!”

“We can’t let Ben get hold of the Key,” Buffy said wearily and leant against the door, trying to hear through the inches thick wood. Oh God, what were they doing to him? “If Spike – no, I refuse to believe he’s dead. Not yet. I’d know.”

Faith looked up sharply through her veil of black tangled hair. “Oh, they’ll keep him alive for ages yet, B. How the hell did you get involved with a vamp, anyway? It’s mega weird. Did you miss the “we see ’em and stake ’em’ lesson?“

Buffy hesitated. She wondered why this girl always ended up making her feel so irritated. Even heavily pregnant as Faith was, she had the devil-may-care attitude that had always annoyed Buffy so much.

“The army put a sort of controlling micro chip in his brain,” she said shortly. “It meant he couldn’t kill anyone. If he tried to bite, he got these dreadful blinding head pains.”

Light from the dying torch flickered gold and amber across Faith’s beautiful face. She looked puzzled. “But he just killed those monk guys?”

Buffy shrugged. “I suppose they count as demons. And anyway, in this world the chip doesn’t work. In fact we’re not even sure he has one. There’s no way of telling.”

Faith looked impatient. “That doesn’t compute, B. If the vamp’s got a metal gizmo in his brain, it won’t vanish just because he comes through some magical portal.”

“Then it doesn’t work here!” Buffy replied stubbornly.

“Oh great. You’re sleeping with a vamp who could kill you in a second! Hey, B, what strikes you as odd about that sentence? Are you mad, girl?”

Buffy was silent for a long while. She was reaching out with her mind, desperately seeking the connection she always felt with Spike. He was still alive, she knew that. She also knew he was in pain. And it was killing her.
“I trust him,” she said at last. “I love him and trust him – with my life.” And once again the peace and relief she always felt when she said those words flooded over her.

Faith shrugged and struggled to get herself back on her feet. “Well, at the moment whether you trust him or not doesn’t matter. There’s just the two of us left in here and I can’t see how we’re going to get out of it in one piece.”

“We fight!” Buffy said grimly. “We fight and fight again.”

Faith nodded towards the door. “Well, I reckon we’d better start. Someone’s outside.”

Buffy stood with her back to the wall behind the door. She motioned to Faith to lie on the floor and the Slayer slumped down, clutching her stomach and groaning convincingly.

The door creaked slowly open and as a thick-set figure in a brown robe, the hood pulled up over his head moved into the room, Buffy hurled herself forward, grabbed him round the neck and flung him across the room to bounce off the wall and collapse on the floor.

Like a flash, Faith was up and sitting astride the groaning figure, her fingers reaching for his neck just as Willow’s hoarse voice whispered – “Buffy! Stop her! That’s Xander!”