Betad by Carol and dawnofme


Banner by dawnofme


Disclaimer: the characters do not belong to me - they are used purely for fun and not fiancial gain




Chapter Twenty-Nine



Captives One and All



Buffy woke abruptly, body tense, ears straining. What had woken her? The house was silent. She glanced at the clock. She’d only been in bed for about an hour, and the others would still be asleep. She had just started to snuggle back next to Spike when she heard it, the familiar creak of the third step from the top of the stairs; someone was sneaking up them. She got out of bed and silently tiptoed to the door. It could be Giles coming up to his room.


She’d just got to the door when she heard a muffled cry. She flung it open and rushed out, seeing the limp body of her sister being carried over the shoulder of a vampire. The shaved mark at the back of its head told her it was from The Initiative. She looked around for a weapon, eyes lighting on the stake that she’d carried on patrol. She quickly picked it up and ran to the vampire, staking it from behind and catching Dawn as it turned to dust.


Her slayer instincts warned her about the attack from behind just in time for her to sidestep to avoid it. This must have been the one that she had heard on the stairs. She staked him as he fell past her, unbalanced from his failed lunge.


Another noise was heard, this time from downstairs. Buffy flew down them, but at halfway she was struck a vicious blow from the side. Her head banged painfully on the wall and she fell the rest of the way down the stairs, leaving a smear of blood on the wall.


She groggily got to her feet, her vision swimming in and out of focus. Adam was approaching her, but she could see Giles behind him.


“Giles!” she screamed. “Help me!”


He just stood there impassively as Adam picked Buffy up by her throat and lifted her off her feet. She flailed helplessly in his grasp.


“Spike,” she croaked, knowing he couldn’t hear her.


Adam threw her against the wall with enough force to crack the plaster, and she lay still.


Maggie Walsh stepped into view and stood next to Giles.


“Adam, take these three back to The Initiative. You know where I want them to be placed,” she said, indicating the unconscious bodies of Willow, Xander and Buffy. “And don’t forget the sister,” she added.


“What about Number Seventeen?” asked Giles. “Shall I stake him now?”


“Not just yet, Rupert, we can have a little fun with him first, don’t you think? He’s a disgrace to his kind, the way he looks out for these humans, but it does mean that he’s very predictable.” She smiled.


Ooooooo


Several hours later, Buffy regained consciousness. She groaned as she sat up, wincing at the pain in her head, eyes squinting against the bright light as she looked around her. She was in an Initiative cell; no surprise there. She got to her feet and walked unsteadily to the front of the cell. Like in all areas of The Initiative, the cells were in a straight line affording no chance of seeing into the adjacent cells.


“Willow? Xander? Dawn?” she called. “Can you hear me?”


“Buffy!” the shrill voice of her sister replied. “Oh, Buffy, I’m scared.”


“’S OK, Dawnie, you’ll be OK,” said Buffy, not sure how though.


“Buff, did you see what happened?” It was Xander. “I was asleep on the couch, and then I woke up here.”


“Willow!” called Buffy again. “Have you seen Willow?”


The others replied that they hadn’t seen her or heard her. Dawn began to cry.


“It was Giles, Xander,” said Buffy, forcing herself to remain calm. “I saw him just before Adam knocked me out.”


“No way, Buffy, Giles wouldn’t do this to us,” protested Xander.


“It was him, Xander, no doubt about it. Spike felt there was something wrong and I convinced him that there wasn’t.”


She leant against the front of the cell and closed her eyes as she thought of Spike, lying there helpless in his enchanted sleep, knowing that he’d most likely be dust by now.


“Oh Spike,” she murmured.


Ooooooo


Willow woke up tied securely to an operating table.


“Oh, God!” she cried and tugged at her restraints to no effect.


She turned her head, focussing the attention on the strap around her right wrist. She started to recite a spell to open the buckle, when a hand clamped roughly over her mouth. She looked up and saw that it was Giles.


“Oh, thank God, he’s here to rescue me,” she thought.


“I know you stripped her of her powers, Rupert,” said Maggie, walking into Willow’s eye line. “But it won’t last much longer, so we’d better do something to keep her quiet for the time being.”


Willow looked up at Giles and was horrified to see him smiling and nodding in agreement. Maggie went out of sight and came back holding something in her hands. She held it up for Willow to see.


“This is a fabulous little device, Willow,” said Maggie. “Essentially unchanged for centuries, it’s what was once called a ‘scolds bridle’. Basically, it was to keep a nagging woman quiet; it also works quite well on witches - you can’t cast a spell if you can’t recite it. I’ve modified it a little, made it of strong webbing straps instead of the old fashioned metal, so it will be a little more comfortable for you to wear Hold her steady, Rupert.”


Rupert removed his hand from over her mouth and firmly held her chin; the other grabbed her hair, pulling her head back. Before Willow could say anything, Maggie thrust the mouthpiece between Willow’s lips. She gagged as it filled her mouth and pressed on her tongue. The straps were pushed behind her head. One ran from the sides of the mouthpiece round the back of her head, another ran up the front of her face, her nose poking through it. But it was so wide that it half covered her eyes leaving only the outside edges unmasked. It went over the top of her head and joined the one from the mouthpiece.


As soon as it was in place, Maggie recited a few words and the straps tightened themselves as if they were alive, so tight against Willow’s flesh that they were almost like part of her.


“There, little witch, you can’t get up to any mischief now, until I have had time to work on you properly. A witch of your power doing as I command, that’s just going to be an amazing asset.”


Willow tried to scream, to shout at her but could barely make more noise than a gurgle. She could no longer see Maggie as her face was directly in front of her, in the part of her vision blocked by the strap. In her peripheral vision she could see Giles, still smiling eerily.


Maggie then took hold of her right hand, Giles her left, and they each put something over her hands that looked like a sock. Willow didn’t know what they were but knew it couldn’t be good; she trembled as she heard Maggie start to recite another spell. The ‘socks’ suddenly pulled tight on her hands, forcing them into fists with the thumbs tucked in beneath her fingers.


“Just in case you thought you might be able to pull your bridle off,” said Maggie. “You won’t be able to anyway, but I don’t want you to scratch your pretty face while you try.”


Maggie and Giles untied her and Maggie ordered her off the table. As soon as Willow’s feet hit the floor she started to run.


“You did warn me she’d do this,” said Maggie calmly to Giles, “so it’s a good thing we are prepared for it. Your turn, Rupert.”


Giles spoke for the first time since Willow had awoken. He recited an incantation of only a few words, but Willow fell to the floor as her right foot exploded with pain. She writhed on the floor, tears streaming down her face, her hands holding her foot. It too, was covered with a similar substance to her hands, but somehow it felt like it had knives in it that were digging into her foot. A few more words from Giles, and the ‘knives’ disappeared, her foot throbbing furiously.


Maggie walked over and kicked Willow’s left foot, “As you can see this one is ready to be used too. The next time you run both will fire their points automatically and they won’t retract them again. Understood?”


Willow nodded as she lay panting in pain and fear on the ground.


“Now get up,” ordered Maggie.


Willow got to her feet and limped along the corridor until she was pushed roughly into a cell and locked in.


The others could hear footsteps approaching but couldn’t see who it was. They heard the cell door open and then clunk shut again. The footsteps went away.


“Willow!” shouted Buffy. “Is that you?”


Willow couldn’t reply so she banged on the glass front of the cell, the covering on her fists making the sound curiously muffled. Buffy was too far away to be able to hear her, but Xander in the next cell, heard the thumps her fists made.


“Willow, can you hear me?” he shouted. “Knock twice if you can.” “I’ve seen way too many horror movies!” he thought as he said it.


Two knocks followed.


“It is Willow,” Xander called to Buffy and Dawn.


“Why can’t we hear her?” said Dawn.


“Will. Have they done something to stop you talking?” asked Xander fearfully.


Two thumps – yes.


Xander’s stomach clenched, “Oh Christ, what have they done to her?”


“Is it…is it a chip?”


One thump – no.


“Thank God,” sighed Xander.


“Are you hurt?”


Willow hesitated a little, her foot still stung, the thing on her face was uncomfortable, but she rapped once – not hurt.


“She’s OK, guys. They’ve done something so she can’t talk, but it’s not a chip and she’s not hurt,” called Xander.


They were all silent for a while after this, all terrified at what would become of them. Buffy paced up and down her cell, anger filling her, fuelled by the thought that Giles had betrayed them and that her lover was almost certainly dead or worse, since this was The Initiative. She tried not to think of the details of Spike’s dreams.


Oooooo


Spike’s nose told him where he was before he opened his eyes; the stench was unmistakable. He knew exactly which cell he’d be in, the one opposite the door to the operating room of three fourteen. Just like in the dream. He was laid face down on the floor; his whole body ached with the after effects of being hit by such a strong blast from the Tazer.


He groaned and pushed himself onto his side. He finally opened his eyes. He was facing the back wall of the cell, so he rolled over and sure enough, there was the door to three fourteen.


He closed his eyes and lay back down. “I’ve killed her,” he whispered.


To be continued…