|
Title: Purgatory Chapter: Two Rating: PG-16 Pairing: Willow/Buffy, Willow/Tara Spoilers: Anything and everything is up for grabs Timeline: Before Adam Beta Readers: Scotty Welles Disclaimer: Not mine quite yet. <><><><><><><> A Week Later <><><><><><><> "I don't like this. It's taking too long." Tara nodded in agreement with Buffy. It had been a week now, and she was about to jump out of her skin with worry. If it had been her taken, Willow would've charged right into the underground compound, not really caring about what happened to her. "Buffy's right, the longer she's in there, the more chance of her being killed." Spike shook his head emphatically. "No. We've only got one shot at this and that's it." "Oh, and why's that? Afraid they might recapture the mighty William the Bloody again?" The vampire stared calmly at the nervous man pacing behind Buffy, his unruly black hair sticking in directions that defined gravity. "Actually, chubs, if the Initiative believes that holding Red puts their little group in danger of discovery, then they'll terminate her." She glanced up at the bleach blonde studying him for any sign of hostility. The steady frank stare that met her reassured her, for the moment. "Okay, so the direct assault approach is out," she admitted. "I take it you've got something better in mind?" He exhaled smoke and just smiled. It simultaneously reassured and annoyed her. "What's the deal? Why are we waiting?" "A friend of mine is doing some checking on our commando friends." He smirked with a dangerous promise. "I want to be prepared for when we make our move, and from what she says, we might know one or two of those soldiers." "Who?" "That is what she's finding out." <><><><><><><> Her eyes cracked as wide as they would go with the swelling and bruising covering most of her face. Putting up a fight against iron-built soldiers hadn't been one of her smartest moves, but the fear had driven her to try and protect herself. The white cell was nightmarish to her, reminding her of that horrid movie she'd watched a few years back. The opposite wall was a mirror, a one-way she'd guessed, in order to observe her like some sort of mouse. Not the human being she was. Forcing her mind to focus on her surroundings, she methodically began to scan her cell for any weaknesses. Just as quickly she realized that there wasn't any. There were no vents, no cracks, no locks to pick. The walls were steel, painted white. There was no cot, no sink, not even a toilet. The door was also made of steel, reinforced with an electronic lock that just happened to be on the other side. Unconsciously, she rubbed her left wrist were Walsh had tattooed her number, 63. Her ex-favorite professor had looked startled when she'd started laughing, easily seeing the parallels. If Walsh had known about her heritage she hadn't shown any signs of it, making her increasingly uneasy with the now cold, scientific woman she was dealing with. Anger welled up in her pain-ridden body, giving her the strength to get to her feet. Limping weakly toward the mirror, it reflecting back her bloody, swollen, scarred body. She began to mutter under her breath, chanting a weakening spell. Her hand clenched tightly and slammed it into the mirror, a small crack appeared, spidering along the surface. Renewed with rage, she let it take control, pounding it with her fist again and again. Each web that appeared, making her more energetic. Blood gathered over her knuckles and fingers, the bones popping distantly. Zeroed in on nothing but getting to the bastard on the other side, she pulled back and punched once more with all of her power, sending slivers of glass flying everywhere. The small control room stared back at her, empty. Probably because of the alarm that had gone off earlier. Gathering her reserves she climbed into it, ignoring her body's protests. She smiled slightly as her eyes landed on the computer on the control panel. She may not be a Slayer, but she was a bad-assed hacker. <><><><><><><> Tara grabbed the last of the herbs as Spike hung up the phone. After the call came, he'd simply ordered them to get weapons. She'd never seen the gang move so fast, Xander and Buffy grabbing and passing out axes, swords, and crossbows. She noticed Giles standing against the counter without his glasses, a dark, neutral look accenting his normally open and friendly face. The bleached blonde vampire smiled openly at them. "It seems our friends are experiencing a slight computer problem," he drawled. "Now who do you suppose might be responsible for a thing like that?" <><><><><><><> She squatted at the end of the hall, waiting for the frantic group of soldiers to pass. The dark compound, now only lit by the few red emergency lights, made it easier for her to slide towards the far double doors. The electrical locks were totally dead, and she doubted that they would be getting anything to work anytime soon. Hell, even an experienced, trained hacker wouldn't be able to fix the damage she'd caused. Disarming everything that it controlled. Locks, lights, climate control, elevators, even the oxygen. Then she'd carefully purged the entire system, destroying all the programs. If that wasn't bad enough she'd changed the passwords, and encrypted the system. And right now, there were dozens of angry demons charging around, keeping the panicked soldiers busy. 'Hey, that's what you get for locking them up in the first place...' Limping as fast as her battered body would let her go, she slammed into the double doors. They flew open, leading into a cross-junction of two more corridors. Her eyes flew about, seeking an exit... "FREEZE!" yelled the soldier from her left. "You move and I'll blow your head off." She swallowed at sight of the large solider. Appearance-wise, he seemed harmless, but the way his hand was clenching the gun said otherwise. "Leave me alone and I won't hurt you," she growled softly. She winced at the harsh laughter that she got in response. Sighing, she focused her mind on the gun, if she could just get it away from him then things would be fine. He yelped as the gun flew into her outstretched hand. Her grip easily slid onto the handle, her finger clenching the trigger, raising it up to keep him back. His dismayed statement turned to humor at the image of her with it. Why didn't he seem worried that she had a gun and he didn't? "Drop it!" snapped a second voice, accompanied by the sound of a hammer cocking to her right. 'Oh, that's why.' She stepped back so that she could keep an eye on both men. Her mind dimly registering that the second man was someone she knew. She pointed the gun at Riley, nervously eyeing his gun. The reality of what was happening was leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. She dismissed the other man as he took off in the other direction. They were at a standoff, leaving her only two choices. Drop the gun and let them take her back to a slow and painful death. Or keep the gun and one of them would end up firing. More importantly, was she capable of taking a human life? Riley's finger began to tighten, leaving her with seconds to make a choice. She whimpered as the gunshot echoed through the installation. <><><><><><><> "Did you hear that?" Xander paled visibly. "It was a gunshot." Buffy tensed at the comment he was afraid to speak. Running down the hall toward the noise, she prayed silently that nothing bad had happened. Her eyes skimmed over the dimmed halls, desperately searching for the responsible party. Rounding the corner, a familiar shadow was standing over a body. She stared hard at the still form lying in a shallow puddle of blood. A shocked sadness surrounded her heart, concentrating only on the betrayal, but she pushed it away. "Willow..." She gently took the gun from her friend, letting it fall to the floor. The redhead shook slightly as her knees began to fail her. Moving swiftly, Buffy lifted her best friend into her arms, a storm of emotions flooding her mind. "Is she...?" Buffy glared at Anya for even suggesting that she was... 'No, not going there.' "We need to get her to the hospital. Now." She brushed past them, pausing next to Spike. "Do it." His only response was a slight nod, before disappearing down the hall. She pulled the bloodied body of her friend closer to her body, and hurried back up the hall, not trusting anyone else to take care of her. <><><><><><><> Tara wanted to hate Buffy, the natural intimacies that she and Willow had between them, the overprotective kinship that they felt for each other. She understood their relationship, but at times like this she also felt jealous of Buffy. When the Slayer had jumped into the car, telling her in that tight, strangled voice to get them to the hospital, she'd wanted to take her lover from her arms, and be the one protecting her from the memories. But the need for medical care, and the knowledge that in the coming weeks she'd be the one doing the holding and protecting, had made it easier for her to drive. Now, less than an hour after finding out that Buffy and Willow had power of attorney over each other, that calm seemed farther away. The potential for them to become more than friends was so obvious to her that she felt a real fear that she just might lose her lover. The others sat scattered around the waiting room, dirty and worn out. Spike, in particular, was looking especially battle-worn, but satisfied. They had effectively shut down the Initiative's operations. When Spike had first sashayed in, Buffy had stared him down until he had confirmed that it was over. Even she didn't feel any guilt over it. Those bastards had gone after one of their own, and now they were paying the price for that. "Why?" Spike kept his head bowed, in his station against the wall, snorting softly at her. "Simple. Red has the potential to be a master vampire; all she needs is the right sire. Just as soon as I get this bloody chip out of my head, that is." Xander glared at the fake blonde, looking as though he was about to pounce on the vampire. "If you even think about..." Tara stood, quieting the others as Buffy walked up. "They're moving her upstairs. The doctor wants to make sure there's no infection. He won't let us see her until tomorrow." The abnormally pale Slayer dropped her eyes to the floor. "Buffy?" "He said that she'd been dissected..." Buffy gulped sharply, hurrying towards the nearby restroom. Tara involuntarily sat back down. Emotions pouring through her body too rapidly to recognize. 'If they weren't already dead...' <><><><><><><> She mutely entered the dark room, perching in the hard chair next to the hospital bed. Doctor or no doctor, there was no way in hell that she was going to leave her friend's side. Not now, not ever again. She'd failed her, bringing the enemy into their lives and into her bed. Neglecting her friends. If she had walked her friend back to the dorm, instead of running off to meet Riley... It didn't matter now, though. All that mattered was her friend laying here, because she'd trusted the wrong person. " I signed the release waiver, so feel free to put things in my slot anytime." - Charles Angels. Odo: Madam Ambassodor, I'm not like you. Every sixteen hours I revert to a liqiud. Lwaxana Troi: I can swim. - DS9: The Forsaken. Aeris Jade Orion list mommy: erslash@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx erslash-adult@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx AIM: Aeris Jade ICQ: 51496263 AT&T/Pow-Wow: Jade Pow-Wow Community: Orion Web Site: http://members.fortunecity.com/aerissword/Index.html |