FIC(HELL): Ashes 01- Rubicon

[Mad-Hamlet@xxxxxxx]

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly Presents
A Mad-Hamlet Production



Scrolls.
This history of the world is on scrolls.
They tell us stories.
Wars
Truimphs
Tragedies
Scrolls tell us of heros and villains.
Magic, power, love.
They leave us a legacy of these things.
But scrolls are paper children.
And paper....BURNS!


Ashes, Ashes, They All Fell Down

Part the 
First
Dragged Across the Rubicon



With a flutter of wings it landed on the twisted branch of 
dead tree. Cocking it's head to the side it examined the surroundings. 
Graves stretched across night blackened grass, the gates far beyond 
sights. That was fine though, there were other gates to be opened 
here. To be opened tonight. That was why it was here after all.

Raising it's head a bit it took in the night sky. Over eons of 
duty it had expierenced storms the likes of which mankind had never 
seen. Usually nights like these, with gates to be flung open, there 
was a storm. A cry of protest maybe from the heavens, but not tonight. 
The air was cool, the sky clear, no moon was overhead and so it was 
quite dark. This was fine too though, it had brought storms of it's 
own.

Small it was, black as well but old. So old..old enough to 
have known the watchmaker at the begining. Given a task it was and 
that task it would do. Tasting the air it made sure it was in the 
right place, at the right time. Pain, a slight tinge dancing along the 
sense, like a foul scent just along the edges of preception. It really 
didn't have to do anything, the gate would opened elsewhere. Simply by 
being it was enough, for now.

Taking wing briefly it fluttered to a grave stone. Not the 
gravestone of it's intrest. That was two over too the right. No, this 
headstone was chosen because there was a savory looking bug to feast 
on. It didn't get to eat as often as it liked. Oh yes, the the souls 
it consumed, those taken by vengence, those were fine, but after an 
eternity or three..well..all things like a little dirvisity from time 
to time.

It made short work of the bug. Ruffling it's feathers a few 
times it stared at the grave two down to the right. It was almost 
time. Lifting one leg slightly it half opened it's wings and struck 
the wind..once..twice.. three times. That was enough. 

Beyond sound and sight it heard and saw a gate swing open. 

She'd be here soon. 

Maybe there was another bug to be had beforehand?

***


Eyes open, eyes shut. Didn't make any diffrence, she couldn't 
see anything. She moved her hands in the dark slowly. Unsure of her 
surroundings. It payed to be cautious in totally unknown situations. 
Her hands didn't move far..less than three inches up before she hit an 
obstrution. Sides were the same. She was boxed in, she couldn't move, 
couldn't get out!

Trapped! She was trapped! She had to get out, it was more than 
panic, more than instinct, it was a directive. 

Fingers curved into claws and tore at the soft material that 
smothered her, held her down. Soon it gave way to something stronger, 
somthing harder, but this didn't stop her efforts. She could feel it 
crumble underneath her assults and if her fingers were bleeding, 
well..she couldn't see it and she certainly couldn't feel it so that 
was alright. 

She pushed up. She had to get out, she was going fast, but it 
wasn't fast enough, she had to get out, up, out..now..had to go, had 
to move. It was pushing at her, from inside a ceaselss, merceliss 
drive. It was building inside with a terror and voice of it's own and 
if she didn't get out in time she would scream and scream and scream 
and never stop screaming..but she'd still be trapped. 
Trapped and screaming. 

Forever.

And a girl clawed through silk, and wood, and earth with bare 
fingers that bled, healed, and tore open again to bleed some more. 
Just the girl, the wood, the earth, and the blood, in the dark.

***

It took wing briefly yet again to land on the headstone it had 
come for. All across the planes, endless realities with a million 
souls burning for release. Spheres floating each one alight with more 
flames of hate and pain and grief then there were starts in all of 
heavens creation. Out of all these fires, a countless number of red, 
sweet cravings for vengence, it had come here. To this miserable 
little mudball. It had chosen her out of them all. Not because hers 
was the brightest, no there were others who's full fury could have set 
worlds alight.

But hers was simple. It could work with simple.Pain, not rage. 
That was it's focus. Pain, with teeth and claw that grabbed souls and 
held them back, yet at the same time the soul had to want to leave. 
Most were stuck in loops of reliving the events of their entrapment 
over and over again. Mere phantasms, no, it couldn't help them. But 
she, she struggled against the shackles. She wanted to use it, her 
pain, as a weapon. It liked weapons. So it would give her a chance to 
utilize her agony, she would have her time, as it's weapon. Also the 
bugs here were quite deliscious. 

Rapping the headstone with it's beak once or twice it 
listened. Yes, there she was. 

As the earth split from the pressure beneath and a white hand, 
bloody with torn nails, scrabbled at the crumbling ground for 
purchase, as red hair broke the night air and long closed eyes drank 
in the sight of the moon, as lips opened and let loose a scream of 
pain, like the first cry of a newborne infant, as all this happened it 
opened it's beak, spread it's wings and let free a cry of it's own.

Oh yes, it had brought storms.


***


'Free.' She thought. 'I'm free.' Collapsing to the ground she 
wept freely. She wasn't sure why, just it was something she had to do. 
She didn't know what had happened, who had taken her, why they had 
taken her, or even who they were.

'That's okay.' She mused. 'Buffy will take care of them.' 
She paused.

'Who's Buffy?' 

That was intresting. She was pretty sure she knew a Buffy, was 
even more certain that said Buffy was very important to her. As she 
was to this Buffy person. However... she couldn't remember who Buffy 
was, why she was important, or...for that matter..who she herself was.

Sitting up, resting her weight on her arms she looked up into 
the night. 'Where..where am I?' She thought scratching her head. She 
glanced around. 

'Great. The cemetary. Must be...' She glanced behind her, 
seeing where she'd come from. Her thoughts froze in her mind. It was 
odd, she knew where she was, and she knew what she beheld meant, but 
at the same time any personal recolections seemed to be...missing.

"A...a...grave?" She squeaked. The earth was torn apart, a 
great gaping maw through which splinters of a coffins hood, and the 
shredded silk lining of it's insides were scattered about the mound of 
dirt. 

She was gasping now, one hand clasp to her chest, she felt 
like her heart was going to hammer through her ribcage, it was only 
after a moment thought she realised...her heart wasn't beating. 

Hunching foward her fingers flew to her face hoping to deny 
her worst fears. But when she touched her brow and teeth she found the 
skin unmarred. Smooth and soft, her teeth were unchanged as well. Now 
she was really confused. 

'What..the heck?' She wondered. 'I'm not a vampire, that's 
good news. But...'

She rolled over on her knees and scrambled across the grass to 
get a closer look at the headstone.

"A prank." She mumbled. "This has to be a prank of some sort, 
yeah that's it. Some joke that got a little out of hand."

She ran her fingers over the smooth stone. There was almost no 
light to read by but her eyes were adapting fast. Overhead a black 
bird watched with feigned intrest. It knew what was happening, it was 
always like this at the begining. 

By touch she found the carved words, in the dim light, and 
following the pattern with her fingers she could make them out.

'W..' She spelled out in her mind. 'I...L...L...O...'

'Willow.' She hummed. That sounded familiar. She kept going.

'R..O..S...E...N...' Numb hands stopped. A numb mind stopped.

"Rosenberg." She whispered. "Willow Rosenberg." 

Falling back on her butt she slowly crabwalked away from the 
headstone. "But...but...but I'm Willow Rosenberg." She said feebly. 

She didn't know how she knew. But she did know. 

"I'm...Willow Rosenberg." She said again. "And...and..if I'm 
Willow Rosenberg and I'm here to say I'm Willow Rosenberg, than that 
means I can't be dead, so the headstone is wrong, and I'm right 
so..so..who's grave..and..oh...no. No no no. I'm right and it's 
reality that's incorrect. That doesn't make any sense!" 

It cocked it's head to the side again, staring at the girl 
intently. This had never happened before. 
Well, they always were confused but it had never seen anyone being so 
confused...like this. Rarely did 'something new' happen to it.

"So...so..I'll go to Giles. He'll know what to do." She pulled 
herself to her feet and turned to leave. She was pretty sure the exit 
was this way.

Now. It decided. It would happen now.

Without warning, and without sound, yet all across reality the 
crack was heard, her back arched, mouth open in a silent scream. Arms 
stretched out of their sockets, eye blazing foward, a tearing shriek 
of agony whipped arcoss her mind.



"I'm not worked up." Willow denied innocently, as she was a 
hair's breadth away from the Slayer. "Yet." 

She collapsed into a ball.

"I wish I remembered last night. I bet it was great." Willow 
said, shyly, a little embarrassed at her boldness.

The girl's hands spasmed. 

"I'm going to have a baby." Willow whispered.

Another convulsion sent her body tumbling down the slight 
incline. 

"You want me to give my baby up for adoption?!" Willow cried.

Pulling herself to her knees she wrapped her arms around her 
belly. A low moan escaped from her throat.

"Friends and Family, I am pleased to present to you Buffy and 
Willow Rosenberg-Summers. You may kiss the bride."

It watched her suffer. This was old territory now, but 
nesseccary. 

Willow blinked, before a seductive grin moved over her lips. 
"Do you want some more?"

She flopped over onto her back, staring, yet not seeing, into 
the dark above. 

"Do...you...trust...me?" the Slayer sounded out again, waiting 
for a response. 

She lay on the black grass, underneath a glass sky. Nearby a 
black bird watched her burn. Overhead dark clouds quicky gathered. 
Neither of the dark pair noticed, the bird as it didn't care, the 
girl, because she was lost within.
"That's okay." Willow said, smiling in relief as her wife got 
closer. "Just hurry up and untie me so we can get....BUFFY!!!"

"No." The girl whispered to herself.

"Looks like I killed you this time, B."

"Buffy." She whispered.

"I may be dying." Buffy choked on a mist of blood, looking 
directly into the deep brown eyes. "But I'm taking you with me." 
The brown eyes smiled. "Wanna bet?" With a turn and a twist 
Faith tossed the blonde Slayer over her hip to slam into the concrete 
floor. "Check this out B, you're gonna love it."
Faith bent over to pick up the knife, still wet with blood. 
Faith licked the blade with the tip of her tounge, smearing a track of 
the crimison liquid over her lips.
"Just in case Red never told ya B." She smiled a bloody grin. 
"You taste great!"
She turned her attention back to Willow who was curled up in 
the corner. "Don't go know Preggie-Red, party's just gettin' started 
y'know?"
"Buffy." Willow whimpered. "Get up Buffy, please. Please get 
up Buffy." 
Fighting a crismon haze that was threatening to cloud her 
vision Buffy stretched her hand in Willow's direction. "Wi..Willow." 
She gasped. She could see Willow. Scared and alone, coming up behind 
her was Faith. Taking her time, striding across the concrete with a 
cocky grin and sexy swivel of the hips. 
"Buffy." Willow moaned and reached out her own hand. They were 
so close. Centimeteres. Despite all reality to the contrary the 
Redhead believed if she could just touch Buffy's hand, everything 
would be okay. That everything could be okay, if only she could reach 
her. "Buffy. Help me."

A spiked heel drove through the top of the Slayer's hand 
pinning it to floor. "Ah ah ah." Faith clucked her tounge. "No rest 
for the weary. Sorry." Buffy glared at the dark Slayer through 
clenched teeth. 
Faith blew her a kiss. 
She looked back at Willow. Bending over she wiped the flat of 
the blade across the wiccan's cheeck. "Now then Red. Where were we?"

The girl bolted upright off the grass. Hands pressed to her 
temples she shook her head, trying to block out the images. "No. No. 
No. No...."

Darker heavens than had been there a second before rumbled, 
and chain lightning lept from sky to sky, to ground. The sky was lit 
up for only a breath of time, yet her eyes were not shut and she could 
see. 
Willow Rosenberg-Summers
Buffy Ann Roseberg-Summers
and their daughter
Rest Well.
We Never Knew Your Name
But The Lord Does Child
And He Holds You Now
As He Does All Mothers and Children.

"BUUUUUFFFFFFFFFFFFFFYY!!!!"

The bird glanced at the screaming girl, it's charge. It's 
mission. It glanced heavenward as a fresh bolt tore a jagged streak 
across the sky. Showtime.

***


She ran. 

Unseeing, uncaring, unheeding. The rain had come upon the tail 
of the storm, great sheets of water that blinded her, or would have, 
if she'd been looking where she was going. Hurtling down the streets 
cars swerved around her, horns blaring but she didn't hear them or 
care. Locked inside her head she was, as the last seconds of her 
former life were hammered home with the grace and subtlety of a 
hammer. 

With a final incoherent shriek she fell to her knees on the 
yellow double line, marking the median of the road. Her hands fumbled 
at the front of the dress she had been buried in. Jagged, hooked 
fingers tore through the soaked material, coated with grime and muck. 
Buttons went flying as she rent the fabric apart. With impeccable 
timing a fresh shriek of lightning tore across the sky leaving rage in 
it's wake. From the flash of illumination the appearence of a 
grotesque, puckered scar was clear. It ran along the base of her 
belly, just above the begining of her pelvis. In a wicked twisted 
concave arc, like the smile of hell it laughed at her. It marred her 
flesh, corupted her smooth belly.

A belly, she realised at that instant, that shouldn't have 
been smooth. That hadn't been smooth the last time her hands had 
rested on it. 


A final hoarse scream, a protest, a denial of what was all too 
obvious shouldered it's way past her lips to be lost in the peals of 
thunder that shook the heavens.

"GIVE ME BACK MY BABY!!!"

Had her rage and pain been palable, a living, coherant thing, 
it would have been flung outward in a wave that would have left the 
earth barren for miles in all directions, sent trees and dirt and cars 
around like toys. As it wasn't...

***

He had had a long day. The boss had been a real bastard, his 
wife was dealing with 'that time', and to cap it off thank's to his 
son's insitance at playing his 'music' at teeth rattling levels of 
volume he hadn't been getting much sleep. Now this storm...

"Perfect ending to a perfect day." He yawned. "Never seen it 
this bad."

He reached for the cup holder and the lukewarm cup of coffee 
that rested there. He only took his eyes off the road for a second. 
Really.

His head bouncing off the air bag was his first clue. The 
echoing crunch of metal and bone was his second. Instincts kicked in 
and his feet drove the break down with all the force he could muster. 
As tires shrieked and the rear of the car came around in a viscious 
fishtail he could hear the rolling thumbs of whatever he had hit 
bouncing across the roof. There were a few idents that marked it's 
passage too.

***

She hadn't seen it coming. One second she was screaming, the 
next a blinding sheet of noise and light hammered into her side 
tossing her up and over. She rolled across the steel metal as it 
passed underneath. Her mind, ever helpful, informed her of what was 
probably happening.

'A car.' She thought. 'I got hit by a car.'

The tumbling slowed down to a crawl, though happening in an 
instant, it seemed to take forever.

'I got hit by a car.' She repeated internally. 'Well..that's 
good. That means I'll die. Again. Maybe..maybe Buffy and..our... maybe 
they'll be waiting for me.'

The edge of the roof came upon her and time sped up so she hit 
the pavement with a jarring thud. Fresh pain crawled across muscles 
and limbs, those that hadn't been shredded by the tearing metal that 
had collapsed around her thighs. The pain was good though. It was here 
and now, not from the past, now she could deal with it, or it could 
deal with her.

She rested her head on the asphalt waiting for the darkness to 
close over her, to take her somewhere else. 

Pounding footsteps, splashing across the fresh puddles of 
water disturbed her rest.

"Oh Jesus. Oh Christ. Oh Jesus" A voice said. "Are you 
alright?"

'Scuze me.' She thought. 'I'm trying to die here.'

"Young lady? Are you hurt? Can you hear me? Say something! 
Anything please!" The voice was desperate and reluctantly, she opened 
her eyes.

"Oh thank God." He was young. The man, around his late 
twenties but he seemed far older. Tired lines markes his eyes and 
circles his mouth, his eyes seemed a little lackluster. 

"Don't thank God." She croaked.

"What?" He stopped his nervous pacing.

Pulling herself so she was sitting upright she examined 
herself. There wasn't a bruise anywhere, and other than the pain 
already feeding on her, her fresh wounds were not even a memory.

"Don't thank God." She repeated. "He doesn't deserve it."

She slowly got to her feet. 'I'm a little woozy.' She thought. 
'But I'm fine. Why?'

"Excuse me." She said and brushed the man aside.

"Hey where ya goin lady? The cops are gonna be here any 
second, we gotta tell em' something!" The man's arms were flung out 
helplessly.

She turned her head slowly and he saw her eyes. He hadn't 
before. He really wish he never got the chance. Wherever she was, 
inside, it made all the hells on earth look like a picnic. He'd never 
come face to face with such as this. Few living had, and those that 
did never forgot. 

"I..." Her mouth hung open for a second and she blinked a few 
times. 

"Ma'am?" The man whispered respectfully. "Can..is there 
anything I can do? Can I help you somehow?"

She tried to remember how to smile. She really did. A lifetime 
of manners, even after being dead, did not abandon her easily. But she 
couldn't. She simply couldn't.

"No one can help me, thank you." She shook her head slightly. 
"Excuse me, I really have to be going." She took a shuffling step.

"Where?" The man asked quietly.

With a sigh she turned and faced him one last time. "To find 
out why I can't die."

She ambled off into the night, the storm had passed but the 
rain still fell. 
The man couldn't be sure why, but he was pretty confidant that if he 
dared to taste some of the water on his cheeks, it would have been 
salty. He made a promise to himself to hug his son and kiss his wife, 
to make sure they knew how much he really loved them, just as soon as 
he got home.

***

She moved through the night, going nowhere. Just away. The 
rain fell, the wind howled, but she didn't feel the cold or hear the 
air. She was going. 

It followed from above. Along the night winds, it didn't need 
to move it's wings much, the currents were more than capable of 
carrying it's light, but ancient, frame. 

She had left quickly. Not followed like so many before, so now 
it had to follow her.

She finally weakened, and, leaning heavily against a tree, 
allowed herself to slide down it's trunk till she sat upon the muddy 
floor of the woods. It lit upon a nearby branch and peered down at 
her. There was no time for this, she had to use her pain, harness it, 
become a weapon or it would have wasted it's efforts. It opened it's 
beak and cried into the night.

Her head came up wearily as she looked for what had made the 
sound disturbing the quiet of the forest. She saw, perched overhead, 
through the gloom of the rain, a large black bird. It's wet feathers 
reflected what little light fell through the canopy. It held a 
presense, a sense of majesty, midnight plumage and midnight eyes. A 
beak as black as it's feathers completed the appearence.

"You.." She said quietly. "You're not a normal bird are you?"

She wasn't surprised when it nodded in an awkward way.

"And you know why I'm here."

Again a nod. 

"And why I can't die?"

For a third time it nodded.

"So." Fresh tears began to leak around her eyes, over white 
cheeks, as pain again forced itself to be made manifest. "Tell me why 
I'm here. What am I supposed to do? Why did this have to happen? Why 
can't I DIE!! Tell me...please..please tell me.."

It did nothing, merely stared at her with old, old, black 
eyes.

She crumpled completly to the earth, sprawling, loose and 
weak, crying, occasionally screaming as again the memories of what had 
been, and could never be undone, assulted her.

And it rained.

On the Girl.

On the Crow.

On the Earth.

It rained.



Authors Notes: In case you havn't figured it out, this is, for all 
intents and purposes, an altverse of an alterverse. Hey, it's fun. 
Really. The Universe in question is the Sappho's Scoll series by our 
beloved Shyfox. The point of dirvigance is, naturally, Five By Five.
What happened you ask?
Simple.
Faith Won.
End of Story.

Or is it?
I know this cross over has been done before. Probably done LOTS. But 
now..now it's my turn.
Much thanks to Shyfox who gave me permission to do this. Now...
Welcome to my Hell.




Disclaimer:(Moved here so I would spoil the surprise) 
All this belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc. The Crow belongs 
to J.O'Barr.