Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire

Chp.25

All Dark

Info: Chp.1

Having shown Willow to his room, so that she could set everything in place for the spell. Angel had taken it upon himself to see everyone else to the most livable of all the rooms in the hotel. Some of the new slayers would have to double or triple up, but that was all right with them, as some of them were friends and didn’t mind sharing. Also, while in Sunnydale, they'd had to live sometimes ten to a small room. Three or four in one room wouldn't be too bad.

Willow had managed to get all the elements of the spell set up, all the candles lit, except for the ones that had to be lit after Buffy had been laid on the bed, the stinky herbs smoldering, and now she sits quietly on the chair, she’d had to drag over from a corner to the bedside. She'd told Angel to bring Buffy up in a few minutes as she'd headed into the room. She waits patiently, perched on the edge of her seat.

Upon hearing a low knock on the door, she glances up. “Angel, it is your hotel, I think it’s safe to say that you can come in.” She says, as he knocks again.

Angel rolls his eyes at the door, and lightly kicks at the bottom of the door, again. “I have my hands full out here.” He says, holding the limp form of Buffy, as tightly to him as he can, as he maneuvers to try and reach the knob of the door.

“Oh!” Willow jumps up from the chair, rushes to the door, and quickly opens it, just as the vampire gets Buffy situated, and reaches for the knob his self.

He looks up to the ceiling, “Thanks.” He heads into the room, Buffy draped carefully in his arms, and lays her down, gently on the bed. “I just wanted to make sure that I didn’t disturb you at a crucial moment or anything. Plus, had an armful of Buffy.” He explains, turning to the red head.

“You’re welcome.” She answers him, “Umm, you didn’t disturb anything. I couldn’t cast the spell, until Buffy was actually in the room. So we’re all good here.” Nodding her head, she slowly makes her way back to her seat by the bed.

“Well, uh, I’ll just. . .” He points over to the still open door, in explanation of what he didn’t want to say.

“Yeah, I think that might be the best idea. I need total concentration, and being alone would be of the good, anyone else in the room might distract me, and the spell will just completely, PFFT.” Her hands fly up, gesturing wildly at what will happen if the spell goes wrong. She didn't want to tell the worried vampire the total truth. That if the spell went all kerplewy she could accidently damage Buffy's brain.

He makes his way back over to the door, laying a hand on the knob; he turns his head back to the witch. “Just wake her up, Wills.” Is his only request as he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

She nods her head, not knowing what to say. He’d already left the room, so there really wasn’t a need to say anything at all.

Willow makes her way around the room lighting various candles, which have been set in an intricate pattern. If you didn’t know, you’d just think they were set haphazardly around the room, but she knew that the candles formed a perfect design. When they were all lit, you could see the pattern the ten candles now held. A pentagon with two black candles directly in the center, she surveys her pattern, then pulls Buffy up a little on the pillows she’d piled up, before Angel had brought the prone slayer to the room. Satisfied that Buffy would be comfortable, she sits back down.

Taking a deep breath, she looks at the slayer, her hands placed lightly on her knees, she begins the ritual, talking slowly, and precisely in a low voice. The second time the incantation is said, her body goes limp, and she slips into the mind of her friend.

Opening her eyes, she expects to see Buffy standing in front of her or some memory flash by her, all she sees is darkness. There isn’t a thought, or anything. Just an empty, black, void, so dense that she couldn't see her hand in front of her face.

She looks around her, hoping that some light will pierce the total darkness, but it doesn’t happen. “OOO-Kay. What in the frilly heck is goin’ on?” She asks, and the only answer she gets is the echo of her own voice asking the question back at her.

“This is just way to weird, where is the thought process? There should at least be thoughts.” The red head slowly makes her way around in the total inkiness of the dark. After a few minutes, she hits something; her hand comes out, feeling what’s in front of her.

It feels like a thin wall, but has a little give as she examines it. It’s almost like a membrane of some sort. She tries to push through it, but the blockage is tougher than it feels. “Damn!” She shouts, and gets another echo in answer.

Looking around once more, and trying her luck at breaking through again, she finally comes to the conclusion that it’s not gonna happen, and lets out a resigned sigh. She mumbles the chant to get back into her own body, and in a flash, she’s sitting in the dark, candlelit room. Her breathing coming out in gasps, she looks up at the body on the bed. “What’s wrong with you? Why can’t I get in your mind, Buffy?” She asks dejectedly, as she gets up from the chair, thinking that maybe she didn't say something right, or god she didn't know. This out come wasn't one she really wanted to tell anyone. What the heck was she supposed to do now? Maybe her power hadn't fully returned yet, the spell at the Hellmouth had been the most powerful thing she'd ever attempted. Maybe she just needed to rest a little more. But she didn't even feel like she'd used any power at all. "God this sooo isn't of the good," she whispers.

Steadying herself on the edge of the bed, she slowly makes her way over to the candle nearest her. The thing is melted down to almost nothing. “How long was I in there?” She asks herself, as she looks around the room at the rest of the candles, which look exactly like the one she’d just observed. Then looks back over to the shell of one of her best friends, hoping that she could figure out how the heck to bring her back.

She starts blowing out what’s left of the candles, and turns the overhead light on, as she blows the last one out. Taking a deep breath she lays a hand on the doorknob. “I’ll figure this out Buffy. I’ll get you back.” She solemnly promises she just wishes she knew what to do as she opens the door and makes her way down the hall to the top of the stairs.

(Here’s the mind walking chapter hope I surprised you guys. This chapter just doesn't read the way my mind came up with the idea. And I've revised and revised, still it's not just right. But this is the best I could get it. Hope you all liked.)