full 3/4 1/2   skin light dark       
 
Something to Sing About by Lilachigh
 
Chp 7 You Will Not Die!
 
<<     >>
 
Something to Sing About by Lilachigh


Chp 7 You Will Not Die!


Buffy was running – she couldn’t remember how she’d got there, vaguely recalled leaping from a high window ledge, the jarring thud as she landed – but now she was running at top speed through the dirty dark streets of Sunnydale, her breath tearing in her throat.

Somewhere behind her she could hear footsteps and a voice shouting her name. But she refused to stop! If she could just keep running, then somehow, somewhere she would find safety, her Mom would be there to wake her up, tell her what she was hearing and feeling was all a dreadful nightmare and that it was time for school and did she want pancakes?

“Buffy! Stop!” The voice came again, closer this time. And it was a voice she loved, but she still couldn’t stop. There was a gate; she knew instinctively where it led – into a graveyard.

She could feel grass under her feet now and she was tripping and getting up and running again until she reached a granite walled crypt and flung herself on the ground, tearing at her stomach, hitting herself, over and over again.

Cold hands of steel reached for hers, holding her as she screamed, stopping her frantic clawing, then pulling her close, closer still, to a hard sanctuary locked in black leather arms that would never let anyone hurt her.

The shuddering sobs faded slowly as the world rocked back on its axis. She felt a hand soothing her hair, and Spike’s voice murmuring nonsense in her ear.

She lay for a few minutes, fighting for control, calling on years of discipline, of being in charge, the one who everybody relied on. Buffy knew that once she pulled herself away from Spike’s arms, she could not give in to the distress that was tearing at her very soul.

She lifted her head from the only place she ever felt safe, squared her shoulders and stopped being Buffy. She was the Slayer as much in this universe as the other.

Spike watched as his wife’s face changed. The overwhelming grief – that he still didn’t fully understand – was being wiped away, second by second: forced inward by will-power alone. And it terrified him. No one should have to be this strong. “Buffy, sweetheart – listen – ”

Buffy pushed her tangled hair back behind her ears and stood up. “Sorry, Spike. That was stupid. I’m OK now. So, I’m carrying the Key. Do you reckon it’ll be all glowy and green or will it be an actual baby. A baby Dawn, perhaps?”

Spike winced at the brittle tone of her voice. “Stop it, Slayer!” he hissed, his anger almost making him vamp out. “Stop hiding from me.”

“Not hiding, Spike. Right here, unfortunately. Feel!” She leant forward and pinched his hand, forcing herself to smile. She’d freaked out when she heard what Ben had said – that she was pregnant, carrying the Key that would unlock the devil dimension he was trying to return to once again.

She knew Spike thought it was because she was wigged about carrying some devil spawn, and of course she was. But – she felt another cold shudder run through her body – it wasn’t just that.

When she’d heard Ben’s words, she’d realised in a flash that what she wanted more than anything in the world – and what she would never, ever have – was Spike’s child. The reality of their situation had never been so clear to her before. Oh, she’d always known that being the Slayer probably meant she wouldn’t even be alive long enough to have and raise a child. There was no way she could have anyone’s baby if she was likely to die at any moment.

No, what had upset her so dreadfully was that she and Spike would never share that between them. She was pregnant with some devil thing when she should have been carrying William’s baby. And she could never tell him because she didn’t have the words.

“So, what do you suggest we do now?” she said, brushing the earth and grass off her jeans. She touched the denim stretched across her stomach. Was there a slight curve there now? How fast would the Key grow inside her? Nine months, two weeks, one day? Would it be human, or have claws or just glow?

Spike studied her face, feeling uneasy. He’d have been far happier if she’d been screaming and yelling. He could understand that sort of passion. This cold withdrawal, the tunnel vision of coping with the mission and nothing else, freaked him out.

“Well, pet, we’ve only got wanker Ben’s word for it. He could have been lying to his bloody minions.”

“Why would he do that?”

Spike shrugged and pulled Buffy’s arm through his. He was scared to let her go. He felt that if he didn’t hold on to her, she would vanish. “Pride, pet. Trying to keep them in line, perhaps. If he’s promised them all a free pass into some sodding devil universe and can’t produce the Key to open the door, then, perhaps he’d lose their loyalty.”

“So, if I go home – back to the other Sunnydale – will this –this Key thingy inside me just vanish?” She tried to keep the hope out of her voice.

“Could do.”

“If I’m not here, then Ben will know he isn’t getting his Key, so he’ll, well, he’ll – ”

“Head for Hawaii for a quick holiday? I don’t think so, pet.”

Buffy stopped and stared around at the wind-swept graveyard. Back home the cemeteries were usually well-kept, neat graves with flowers and sometimes little messages, toy birds and butterflies. But here everything was dirty and overgrown. The tree branches rattled together like bony arms and the moon sulked behind thick clouds.

The whole town was being suffocated under Ben’s influence and if she ran away, nothing would change. Ben would probably just decide to live here forever, spreading his miasma of hatred and despair until it covered the whole state, the whole country and maybe the whole world.

“So I’ve got to get rid of this Key, then get rid of Ben,” she said, squaring her shoulders as if carrying a heavy burden. “No problem! What do I do in the afternoon?”

“You could use the word ‘we’ if you tried, pet,” Spike muttered, almost under his breath.

Buffy flinched. She knew she was hurting him and couldn’t stop. “Well, I suppose as a last resort, I can always do what I did before,” she said sharply. “I haven’t seen any rickety old tower being built in town yet, but I so reckon it won’t be long now Ben knows the Key is on its way. Perhaps it’s Fate. That I’m always supposed to save the world by dying, whichever world I’m in.”

Spike grabbed her arms and pulled her round to face him. “Stop it, Buffy! Stop this now!”

She looked away, unable to meet the blazing blue of his frightened eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’ve told you before, I’m not going to let you jump off some bloody tower and sacrifice yourself again, so just forget it! I don’t believe in soddin’ Fate. We’ll find some other way of killing Ben. Look at me, Buffy. Look at me, pet!”

Slowly Buffy raised her head and gazed into the face that she loved, even if she couldn’t admit it. She was fighting back the tears she refused to shed.

“You’ve got to trust me, Slayer. If you’ve never trusted me in the past, if you ever trust me ever again in the future, okay. But right now, you’ve got to believe me. We’ll fight this together this time. And you will not die!”

tbc.








 
<<     >>