FIC: Sequal to 'Janus': Eros (1/2)

[Mad Hamlet <Mad-Hamlet@xxxxxxx>]

Disclaimer: All this belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Inc.
(Grrr...arrgh)

Warning: I offer this here and now. You know who I am(Or you should, I'm so
likeable) and you know what I do(Or you should, it's so likeable) either way,
I say now. The Gloves are Off.
Be prepared.

Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly Presents
A Mad-Hamlet Production


God is a Man

'The Devil You Know'
-Face to Face



A Sequel to-
Janus was Healed...

			
....But Eros Died
				



I wake up a long time before she does. The sun was still coming up when I was
wrested away from my dreams. I always wake up early. Despite the working hours
of long days and longer nights, I always wake up early. When things are really
hard I blame whatever it was that chose me for this role. I think that
it...they...want me to have as little peace as possible. Normalcy is not an
option, relationships..the idea is laughable. They also go after any rest I
might have, any escapes I might aquire from dreaming. That's what I think,
they don't want me to dream much. I get just enough rest to be fully
functional and then I wake up. No additional slumber, no respite. Just enough.
When things are all mean and terrible I honestly believe that that's why I
always wake up early. It's probably for the best, that way I don't get too
attached to my dreams. It's hard to do that if you don't have many.

When things are normal, relativly, I just think I'm an early riser. 

Honest.

I've woken up before her, though I haven't moved. Not an inch. A leaf was
blown free from the branches about ten minutes ago and it landed on my face.
It rests on my cheek right now, wobbling as small breezes flow over it, me,us.
It itches but I don't move to brush it off, to scratch the itch. I just stay
still. I let her sleep, as long as she doesn't wake up I don't have to do what
I know is right. I can put it off, just a little longer.

If I roll my eyes as far as I can I can see the blood on her face. I'm lying
fetal, with my head in her lap, the blood on my hands is hard to miss. It's
sorta in my face. It's on my face too. I can't see it but I can feel it crack
and flake off in the morning rays. 

Blood. She's bloody. I'm bloody. We're bloody. 

The tip of my tounge snakes out and I lick a bit of the dried stuff off and
taste it. It, my tongue, does it by itself. I didn't mean too. Really. I don't
mean to close my eyes and lick my lips a second time. I don't aknowledge the
tingle running along my spin. I don't enjoy it. I really don't. I don't. Not
at all. 

It's blood. Stolen blood taken by ...things. Unatural, twisted mockeries of
life, pantomiming the living. They don't deserve to exist they have no place
here, in this world. Someone has to fight them, to destory them and that's me.
I try and live, but I'm just pantomiming that like they do. I look at Willow
again. 

She's covered in blood too. Her face, along her jaw, smeared across her
cheeks but she's smiling. Leaning against the tree, my head in her lap, eyes
closed. She's smiling. I have no place in her world. 

It's my fault that she's ...stained. This time she just happened to be
around; what about next time? It could be them or.. Control. We have to have
control. Always, always, have control. If we lose control it might not be them
who makes Willow bloody; it might...

I've thought this over carefully. This is the right way, it's not the
painless way because there is no such thing. It's what has to be done. I
believe that. I have to. 

Okay Summers. Let's do it. 


C'mon. 

Move.

I could let her sleep for a few minutes longer.

Just a little more time. What's the harm in that?



The sun finishes rising above the horizon. The light looks the color of
peaches. Birds have woken up, starting their day. Involving food and young,
and their mates. Mama bird and Papa bird, getting up together and flying
around, looking for food. Food for their little ones. 
A nice Disney thing. Cute family of birds.

I think I hate them.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see a squirrel poking its head out of a
whole in a tree, wondering if it now is a good time to start looking for nuts
and other goodies. A small pool of light has managed to work its way through
the leaves in the branches. It's resting on Willow's lap. Right where my hands
are too. It's warming my hands. My hands are warm in the sunlight.
	
My hands are warm; only my hands.


I stretch carefully, roll my head and groan just loud enough. With a grossley
exagerated yawn I sit up. As I move the ground snaps and rustles, dead leaves
crackling and shiftering underneath my weight. I put extra 'oomph' behind the
gesture when I lean back, resting my weight on my elbows. I make sure one of
them bumps into her leg in a not so subtle nudge.

"Mmmmm..." She moans and shifts her head. Her eyelashes begin to flutter and
I can see her eyes moving underneath. Here it comes, we've shared a bedroomso
long I know her sleeping habits like ..well..pretty well. 

"Nnnoooooo.." She whines. "Don' wanna be a morning person." 

Almost the same statement. Every morning. She's like clockwork.

Making sure I'm not looking at her I put my hand to my head, as if I have a
headache. 

"Hey." I say quietly.

"Mmm...'morning." Willow groans. "How you feeling?"

"Like I got hit with a truck. Not by, with. Somebody picked up a truck, and
beat me on the head with it repeatedly. What happened last night?"


"What?" I hear her ask. I can tell, from her voice, how shocked she is. The
question was breathless and weak, like someone saying something while getting
punched in the gut. I grit my teeth while clenching my hands into fists. The
pain of my nails biting into my palms helps me focus. I put an embarassed
smile behind my response.

"I mean, what happened? Cause I don't remember a thing. Last thing I recall
was..a bar I think." I sniff. "Why do I smell like a roasted marshmellow? My
hands feel caked, what the heck is th-" I let my voice catch. 

This part is really going to be hard. Acting surprised.

"OhMyGOD!" I shriek, holding my hands in front of my face. "This is blood?
What happened? How did..did I hurt anybody? Oh God! What have I ..what's
happening?"

I feel her hand on my shoulder, she's trying to comfort me. 

"Buffy, shhhh..." She says quietly. I still have my back to her. Now this
will be really hard.

Acting horrified.

I turn to look at her, and open my eyes real wide. Like I'm seeing her bloody
face for the first time. I gotta make it look good.

"Willow." I whisper. "Your..your face...what happened?"

"What?" She says again, bringing and hand to cheek, brushing off some flakes
of dried blood. 

"What happened Willow?" I demand. "What..where did this all come from? My
hands are coated with blood, your face...your.." 

Now I brush my fingers against my lips, I feel some blood I missed crumble
underneath my touch. "My..my face." I breathe. I don't try and make my voice
sound trembley, that would definetly give the game away. 

"I'm covered, drenched...soaked..." I take in deep breaths, wonder if I fake
it too well, will I actually start hyperventilating? Would certainly lend
authenticity to the performance. "...in blood."

I look at her. I look Willow in the eyes. She's hurting. She's hurting
terribly, I can see it. Oh I so much want to make it better. It would be so
easy, so easy to just take her in my arms, repeat the kiss from last night.We
could laugh it off. Some sort of fogginess of the ol' brain cells and now I
remember everything. How terrible it was, how funny it was, how...how
wonderful it was. We could go back to the wonderful. We could go back to it
and never leave. 

No! It wouldn't be wonderful. Yes it would; but it would be taken from us.
Ripped, stolen, beaten, crushed. Used against us. It's better to just
let..just let..let it die. It's better. 

Say that again Summers. Say that over and over again. Maybe it'll be be true
eventually.

Willow is going numb. Her features are setting into her flat face. She's
hiding herself. Trying to esacpe. She's gotten so good at that. I'll make it
easier. I'll provide a distraction. 

"Willow!" I say fiercly, slamming my palms into the tree trunk on either side
of her head. "We're waking up in the middle of the woods. I look like I just
ran through a butchers shop that was on fire, you look like an extra from the
next Hellraiser movie. Now I don't know what's going on here-" I look away
from her, I look down at my lap. I take several deep breaths, act hurt and
upset. It's easy. Far easier than I thought it would be. Maybe because I am
hurt and upset, though not for the reasons I'm giving. "You know what
happened. Please. Please Willow. I'm scared. Tell me what happened."

I watch her carefully. I watch her blink rapildy, she's trying not to cry.
Pulls it off too. I made her cry. I made her want to cry. I made Willow cry
and it's all my fault and I can't even ask her to trust me, because I'm lying
to her. I'm doing this all on purpose. To my best friend! To ..to..I love
her.

It's better this way. No weaknesses, no worries. No..no chinks in my armour.


"Okay Buffy." she says with diffilculty. Her voice sounds husky, like
something is stuck in her throat. Probably a sob. I know how she feels. "Okay.
I'll tell you what happened. Sit back. This is going to take a while."

"You're okay?" I press. "I..I didn't hurt you did I?"

Her eyes start a bit. Of course I hurt her, not in the way the question
implies but I hurt her. Just now. My fault. On purpose. My fault. It's for the
best. 

"No." She says quietly, a whisper. Her eyes flicker to her lap where her
fingers are clenched together so tight her knuckles are white. I pretend not
to notice.

"No you didn't hurt me." She sighs. "Okay, um... you were at that bar
drinking beer with some guys...."

She tells me what happened. She tries to gloss over the vamp kills but I make
her tell me everything. To explain all the blood on my face, my clothes,
underneath my nails and between my teeth. 

"Uh..well.." She stammers. "Those vampires? Uh.."

"I didn't have a stake did I." I say flatly. I run my fingers through the
leaf cover on the ground. Taking comfort from the quiet rustle.

"No." She says almost shamefully. "You used your bare hands."

Willow twists her fingers in her lap, playing with them, studying them
intently. I know why. She went through this last night. Comforting me when I
had realised what I had done and been terrified by it. At the violence, at the
blood, at how much I had relished every second of it. The combat, the screams,
the feral, animalistic fury and purity of that act. 

A tingle rushes along my spine and my tougue wants to lick my lips again in
search of more blood, I can feel the urge. I fight it. There isn't any more
anyway. I licked it all off. I could lick her face. That would solve all the
problems. I'd love her, have her and get ..get...

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. This is why I'm doing this. This is why I'm putting
us through this. Because..Oh God.

"I enjoyed it." 

"Well.." She stammers. Shaking her head slightly, she shrugs. "At first yeah.
But not afterwards. I mean, well, you realised and were really horrified.
Upset an' everything. You took off at warp speed, I had to chase you." She
smiles slightly. "That wasn't easy. Thought I had busted a lung."

I smile back at her.

"So you caught up with me?" I ask. 

"Mmmhmm." She nods looking away again. "At this tree. Used a little magic to
track you down." She looks up the trunk. "See? You can still make out
the..er...handprints where you climbed up."

She sighs again. "So I..er..found you and talked to you for a bit. Tried to
calm you down, told you that you were still you. That I liked you and that it
didn't matter what you did what you did. Because..well..because.."

'You love me.' My mind fills in. I try not to flinch.

"... you're my best friend!" She finishes with a horribly painted on smile. I
don't notice it. I don't let myself notice it. I don't notice the forced lips
pulled back over teeth, or the shimmer in her eyes. I don't..I won't.. I won't
see them!

"And, well, I guess you believe me cause you came out of the tree,
and..uh..well, we fell asleep." She finishes lamely. Looking back at her
hands. I don't say anything for a while. We just sit in silence. Eventually
she pulls her legs up and wraps her arms around them.

"Cold." She mumbles from behind her knees as way of explination.

"Me too." I reply. On the inside and the outside, but I leave that part
unsaid.

We sit for a while longer.

"How'd all that blood get on your face?" I ask. Finally. She jumps a bit.

"What? Oh. This?" She giggles a bit, scratching some of the dried blood off
with her fingernails. "You..er..well when you came out of the tree
you..uh..got kinda frisky."

"Frisky?" I open my eyes real wide and say the word slowly. Filling it with
unsaid dread.
"God Willow, I didn't kiss you did I?"

"What?! No no..Ha ha ha ha.." she says. She says 'ha ha ha', doesn't actually
laugh. She SAYS it.

Willow.

I...

I...

"No no, of course not." Willow somehow manages to turn a sob into a hiccup. A
sound being twisted sideways, forced and wrenched asunder than swallowed.
"That ..that would be silly wouldn't it. You kissing me I mean. Gah,
no..silly."

"Akward." I answer.

"Very." She nods studying her kneecaps. She's blinking about twice every
second.

"You..uh..just pushed me over and sniffed my neck a bit." Willow says.
Sliding a fingertip around and around on her kneecap. Not looking at me.
Watching her finger go round and round.
"That's all Buffy. Just...just sniffed my neck a bit."


"Sniffed your neck?" I ask with a grin. I'm trying to lighten the situation.
I figure if I can manage to get her going on autopilot it might hurt less.
Then I realise that autopilot requires the events to have actually happened
and since they didn't, it probably won't happen. 

Willow smiles back at me tentativly. "Yeah. Just a little sniffin' and you
curled up in my lap and went to sleep. I did too." She finishes with a shrug.

"Were you scared?" I ask her quietly.

"Of you?" Willow's brow furrows a bit. She starts biting at her lower lip,
thinking. "I...think I should have been." She finally replies. "But I
wasn't."

"I was ..I was some sort of bloodthirsty animal." I protest weakly. This
would be so much easier if I could feel guilty about something.

She smiles at me softly and her smile reaches her eyes. "No." she smiles
wider. "Not an animal, just a very thorough protector. That's why I wasn't
afraid, I'll never be afraid of you."

My heart is pounding so hard and the walls over it are buckling. Love is not
soft, it's hard, strong and sharp. Mine is begining to break me down, to take
me over, to grab her and hold her close, kiss her, love her, be with her and I
can't let that happen. I just can't. She's doing this so easily too. She
doesn't even know it but just by being Willow, she's breaking me down.

I won't let this happen. 

She deserves better.

I stand up and brush my pant legs off. "C'mon." I say holding out my hand to
her. "There's a hot shower calling my name and I don't want to miss it."

Wordlessly she accepts my hand and I pull her to her feet, then we turn and
head back for the campus.

The walk is long and silent, I let Willow act as the guide since I'm supposed
to not remember how I got where I am. We take the long way home, walking
around the park. 

"Is that where...uh..Is that where the vamps were?" I ask pointing to one of
the iron fences marking the boundries of the park.  

Willow simply nods and heads off in the opposite direction expecting me to
follow.

I know Willow. She...is..was? my best friend. She doesn't give her heart
easily but last night she gave it to me. She didn't know how I'd respond, she
didn't know whether I would respond in kind or turn my back on her. She took
all the risks. Willow was incredibly brave last night and thought she had won.


Now I'm taking that away from her. 

She's doing a good job of hiding it. Her back is straight, her head held high
walking with a brisk, sure, step. Like everything is right with the world. The
rising sun burns on the horizon in front of her, the light giving her hair a
look of true flame. She pauses, stretches her arms over her head and arches
her back. There's a quiet 'crick' sound of bones and muscle sliding back into
place and she resumes her pace; just a little ahead of me. I think she's
humming a tune.

Willow won't say anything about what happened last night. I'm sure of it. Not
that she doesn't want too but she's not that brave. She did it once, she
couldn't do it again. She's already lied about what really happened and that
will add to her inability to say anything. Also I'm not acting in any way that
could lead her to..think..that maybe..she could. Being..I'm being..good ol
Buddy Buffy. There's nothing here..for...for her to see..maybe Lover Buffy. 

I will not feel that tingle in my eyes. I will not aknowledge the itch behind
my lids. I will not cry. 

Even though I'm using what I know of her against her. Even though I'm lying
right in her face, depending on her insecuritues and weaknesses in my favor.
Even though I'm commiting crimes against someone I love I will not cry. I'm
going to force myself to live a lie, and I will do it with a smile on my face.


Why?

The consequences of what could happen ...I.. no. There will be no such things
happening; I won't let them. I'll protect her. I'll always protect her and
doing these things, these monstrous things, will make it that much easier.

Yeah, that's it Slayer, justify what you're doing. C'mon, let's do it. Give
it your best shot. Oh I've got one, yeah, we'll like this one. Ahem..'You love
Willow so much, that you're not going to love her'. 

We reach the dorms, it's still too early for anyone to be up, not that many
would be with it being a saturday morning. We're careful anyway. Darting up
the stairs, around the corner into our room...which looks pretty messed up.

I take in the chaos that my comunion with the wild side rought. The
television knocked off the shelf, the shelf itself scattered with ...stuff.
Clothes all over the floor, if those torn rags can still be considered clothes
and... oh nuts.

"I'd forgotten about those." I mumble taking in my 'cave paintings'. It slips
out, quiet, but slips out before I can realise I'm saying it. 

Oh hell. Oh no. Oh God. Oh ..Oh...FUCK!

If she heard me, if Willow overheard, no...no she couldn't of, she's next to
her bed, picking up some of my mess. Bent over, busy, humming to herself,
still humming. Humming with the birds that are singing outside. The clock
radio starts beeping, I jump. Willow nonchalantly reaches over and flicks it
off because we're already up n'everything. She's still humming.

"You say something Buffy?" She turns and looks at me. There's
..something..no. No, just my imagination. She's speaking normally.

I force a smile to my face. I better get used to doing this. Gesturing in the
direction of the 'artwork' I roll my eyes. "Nothing important. Just noticing
my contributions to the art world."

She glances at the 'paintings' and than looks away. "Oh." She replies,
bending back over to resume picking apart the assorted chaos. 

"Yeah." I whisper to myself behind her. "Oh."

She doesn't respond.

I stare at her for a bit. She's bent over, on her knees, reaching under her
bed trying to grab something. Her eyes are squeesed shut in the effort.
Whatever it is is probably just out of reach. Isn't that always the way? 

"Uh..listen, I'm going to grab a quick shower, get all this..uh..stuff offa
me okay?" I say. I can't believe how lame I sound. Like I'm asking her for
permission. I even shrug and look away from her. Not that she can see me with
her eyes squeezed shut. 

"Okay." She mumbles, now her teeth are clenched. "I'll just..stay here..c'mon
you little..and try and get this..almost got it..sock."

I grab my toiletries, towel, bathrobe and various soaps. "So..I'll..just be
right back then." I mumur heading for the door. 

"Mmmhmm." Willow replies.

	
The water is hot and clean as it pours from the showerhead. As it runs offmy
body it turns red, and brown. It's still hot but no longer clean as it twirls
down the drain.

I take the shower gel, squeese a dollop onto my sponge and wash my skin
clean. I do it effectivly and without thought. All my thoughts are inside.
Fighting. Reinforcing new walls and defenses. I cannot let the pain out. I
cannot let the want out, I cannot let the need out, I cannot let the tears
out. I cannot let the love out. 

Lock it away. Lock it away. Lock it away now. 

Music. Red Hot Chili Peppers. Yeah, think about that. 

Lock it away
Lock it away
Lock it away now.

Okay, so I'm add libing. Never like them much anyway. 

Now to do the hair. Dirt goes out, blood goes out, grime goes out. 

Two in One shampoo. Condition and clean. How effecient.

Lie to, hurt, betray, the one person you love to protect them.

How effecient.

Okay. All done.

Rinse.

The water is hot and clean as it pours from the showerhead. As it runs offmy
body it stays clear; free of muck and grime and blood. It's still hot but no
longer clean as it twirls down the drain.


I dry off, put on my robe. Stand in front of the mirror. Start to comb my
hair. Let it drip dry today. No need to be fancy. Just going to be normal
looking Buffy today. No need to make myself look extra nice. No need to
surprise a special someone with extra effort on my own appearence. 
Nope. None at all. 

It rattles in it's cage. Deep in my mind. Roars and screams. Claws at the
bars trying to force its way free. Won't be denied, will not be refused.
Primal, all powerful, destroyer of empires, heros, demons, dynasties,
families, children... 

No. Don't let it out. Don't aknoweldge it. Focus on the hair. Think about
brushing your hair. 

That's it. Easy, long, comfortable strokes. Feel the bristles on your scalp?
See the straight, orderly rows in your hair. Long and straight and clean.
Isn't that nice? Isn't that right?

I put the brush on the edge of the sink and look at myself.

Turn my head slowly to the left, watch my eyes follow me in the mirror. Nope,
no lines there. Turn it back the other way, keep my eyes locked with my
reflection. Face it directly. 

Can't tell can you Mr. Mirror. Can't see the storm inside can you. Nope,
all's quiet on the western front yes? No monster inside you screaming in your
head is there. No feelings threatening to burst free, tear down your world.No
tears ready to flood outwards and never stop. Nothing at all here is there.
Just the monster in the mirror. Us.

I open my mouth. My lips part and I can feel the cool air whipping over my
lips as I breath. I close it again. Don't say it. Bad to say it. Hurt more,
not less. Can't say it. Won't say it. 

"I love you too Willow." My reflection echoes silently back to me. 

Just one. I'll say it just this once. Universe now knows. Just the universe;
and her. The Monster in the mirror. If she's still there after I head out the
bathroom door I don't know. It's okay though, I have my own monster on the
inside.



	

There is only one thing that can damn me.
That can send me down in a swirling maelstrom of fire and pain.
And it is not the word of Man.
And it is not the lessons and rules of the Church, hypocrites every one.
And it is not the words of God, nor the judgements of Angels.
And it not a fair tribunal of my 'peers' that can find me guilty of crimes
immortal.
No. 
I can only be accused, judged and damned by my own Soul.
And I would never be so betrayed.

Mad-Hamlet