FIC: Stuck In Overdrive (2/9)

["Jamie" <jamie@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

TITLE: Stuck In Overdrive (2/9)
AUTHOR: Jamie (jamie@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)
DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I don't
own anything. The song Buffy sings is 'Iris' by the Goo Goo Dolls.
SUMMARY: A few months on from the events of 'Stuck In The Feedback Loop', Willow grieves Buffy's death. Xander has turned to other methods to cope, and Giles is at a loss as to what to do. The arrival of Billy, a boy who's comatose state allows for nightmares to become reality complicates matters further.
SPOILERS: Unless you haven't seen season one...
DISTRIBUTION: E-mail me.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Chapters 2a and 2b here for you guys to enjoy. It took a lot out of me writing 2b and I hope it reflects that. Also it's badly beta'dby me, so please excuse any mistakes, I was kind of running on adrenaline,nicotine and emotion for writing it.



CHAPTER 2a

Of Greetings And Goodbyes.

Willow walked into her room and closed the door behind her quietly. She removed her jacket and draped it over the back of the chair and stretched her arms out, yawning. Still stretching, she glanced at the clock. 12.43 PM read the glaring digital display.

Willow closed her eyes.

She opened them sharply. Her pupils contracted from the daylight streaming in through the window.

6:45 AM.

"What the f."

--------------------------------

Jenny Calendar walked out of the library sleepily. Recently she'd had trouble just resting at all, and she was exhausted. The developing circles underher eyes attested to that, and the slight shuffle in her usually powerful stride betrayed her façade of confidence. She turned her head to the sideas a student went storming past her.

"Hey! Ca-" Her sentence ended with a forced exhalation as a girl dressed inblack with shining red hair collided with her. The both fell to the floor,along with numerous books, pens, and.stakes. Dazed slightly, Miss Calendarpropped herself up on her elbows and blew hair out of her eyes.

"Willow!" She said, half-concerned, half-irate. "Are you okay?"

"Miss Calendar, oh, I-I'm s..sorry." Willow apologised, blinking a few times. Jenny could almost see the cartoon birds flying around her head.

"It's okay sweetie, here, let me help." She said, getting up and helping the younger girl to pick up her things.her weapons? Jenny held up the wooden,pointy stick and handed it over. 

"It's okay, I can manage." Willow said, then realised she was a little too brusque. "Sorry, I'm.just not used to.I've gotta go, class." She said, quickly retreating. The adult sighed, Willow seemed to be such a nice girl whenshe first met her, so vibrant, so full of life. Now she seemed like a closed box. The gypsy looked at the retreating girl and reached out with her magick, taught to her by her mother. She reached Willow and began to probe inwards. Such a measure was an invasion of privacy, Jenny knew, and she'd no doubt have very bad karma for a while to come, but she needed to know what was going on with the girl. She'd noticed light bruising on her face and arms, almost undetectable to anyone normally, but she was looking for just that. She probed with her mind and for a second, she caught a glimpse of whatwas inside Willow. A gaping chasm had been torn, no, torn was the wrong word. Ripped out was the right adverb to use. Something had been lost to her,irretrievably. She was about to go deeper when she was suddenly thrown out. She clutched the side of her face, the skin stinging as if she'd been slapped. Willow stopped, as if thinking about turning around, but walked straight on. Jenny stared after her until she rounded the corner, then turned back and re-entered the library. She and Mr. Giles were going to have a smallchat.

The doors swung open and Jenny darted in. They really had to get those doors fixed.

"Rupert?" She called out.

"Jenny?" Came a muffled reply from underneath the counter. It was followed a second later by a crash, and the rattling of objects on the surface. "Bloody hell!" Giles resurfaced, rubbing the back of his head. Jenny winced, that was gonna swell. "How can I help you?"

"Is Willow a Slayer?" Jenny asked, folding her arms and adopting an aggressive stance. May as well open up with the big guns. She saw Rupert's eyes grow wide for just a short millisecond, then he regained his composure.

"I.I don't know what you're talking about." He said, busying himself with stacking some already-stacked books.

"Come on Rupert, you're a terrible liar." Jenny said, pressing forward. Shewasn't going to let him off the hook this time.

"How do you know about the Slayer?" He asked, his voice suddenly heavy with.with what, anger? No, that wouldn't be Rupert. Suspicion perhaps? It was obvious he cared deeply for Willow. Even other people noticed it in the way he was always covering for her in the faculty lounge, in both official and non-official ways. It was a dangerous game he played, one which could end in tragedy for both of them.

"My people have known about the Slayer for centuries, Rupert." Jenny replied, brushing the question off.

"Your people?"

"I'm.a member of the Romany Clan." Jenny said. Now was not the ideal time to tell him. Truth be told, she actually liked the librarian, she found the way he bustled about with everything, hiding behind his books and away fromthe real world cute. To an extent. In any case, she liked him enough to not want to see him hurt, and unfortunately this current turn of events with Willow had led to that. Regrettable yes, but unavoidable for Willow's sake,if Jenny really wanted to help the girl.

"Gypsies." Rupert said, at a loss for words.

"Yes. Look Rupert, there'll be time for tears and recriminations later, right now the issue at hand is Willow." Giles exhaled and replaced his glasseson the bridge of his nose, having given them a good rubbing.

"Before you say it, Willow should be, and is willing to do this. It is her duty, her calling. She has accepted that, and we neither look for your approval nor your permission."

"I understand the duties of the Slayer, although I may not agree with them,that's not why I'm here now. What I want to know is what happened to her. Just now, I felt.emptiness from her. Like she'd lost something irretrievable, as if something special had been ripped from her.." Jenny neglected to tell Giles about the spell. Maybe keeping it as an ace up her sleeve might be wise.

"I'm not sure if Willow would appr." Giles began, but was cut off.

"I'm sure she wouldn't, that doesn't matter. Dammit Rupert that girl needs help! Will you help her or will you let her live her life as she is now, ifyou can call it living. Every day she comes in, trudges through the day and walks out. The feelings she projects echo a girl who has no joy in her life, who is caught in a downward spiral that can only lead to suffering and pain. Do you want that for her, or will you HELP me?" Caught like a deer inthe headlights, Giles shifted uncomfortably, and finally caved with a sighand a vigorous rubbing of his glass lenses.

"Come to my office, we have a lot to talk about."

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Willow walked back into the library, for the third time that day. Giles wassitting at the table in the centre in.a business suit?

"Hey Giles." Willow said approvingly. "Nice threads."

"Yes, um, thank you." Giles said, getting up and pulling out a seat for Willow. And they say chivalry's dead. "My threads are.quite adequate."

"What's the big occasion?" She asked. The older man returned to his seat.

"I'm meeting a friend later." Giles stuttered, seemingly annoyed with the question. Willow smiled and cocked one eyebrow, twirling a lock of her hair around one black fingernail.

"This friend wouldn't happen to be a dark haired Computer Studies teacher would it?" She asked with a sly hint to her voice. Giles' blush gave her theanswer she knew was coming.

"Yes.uhm, v-very good. Anyway, Willow, the reason I called you here is in this box." He brought the object to his lap and shifted his chair forward sothey were opposite each other. Willow gasped when she saw it. It was ornate, to say the least. The front panel was decorated with a swirling pattern,hand carved into the wood. In the centre was an emblem, with an incrediblydetailed and meticulously carved letter 'W', entwined with an equally ornate letter 'S' . The lid of the chest was just as heavily decorated, with a wood carving of the sun rising over two figures, one obviously a girl, another a man at her side. The girl was carrying a sword. The whole thing was finished perfectly, with not a single sign of aging or damage anywhere. Willow rotated it in her hands, looking at all sides. Every one was carved and worked with the same loving detail and attention as the others. A small breath escaped her lips and she realised that she had been holding it in the whole time. She couldn't blame herself. It was.exquisite, priceless.

"Open it." Her Watcher said, with a faint smile on his lips. Her callused finger slipped the golden latch on the lock open, studying with fascination the level of detail that had gone into even this part of the vessel. Inscribed on the gold were tiny, tiny Celtic knot patterns, almost too small to see at first glance. She slowly pushed upwards. The lid rested half open on the table whilst Willow took in the contents. Red silk lined the inside of the box, concealing soft padding underneath. In the centre, surrounded by the silk - obviously specifically cut for the contents - was a long, thin, wrapped object. Willow picked it up gently and set the box up on the table. Gingerly, she unwrapped the linen shroud that covered the object. She gasped again as it came into view and the afternoon sun caught it. The handle was made out of gold, silver, platinum, ivory, and another metal she couldn'tname. It had the same swirling pattern as on the box. The hilt of the dagger was also decorated on both sides with the emblem that was on the front panel. Lifting the weapon out of its covering and placing the linen on the table, Willow grasped the handle properly and admired the blade. It was long, at least nine inches. One side was sharpened almost to perfection. Willowabsent-mindedly ran her thumb along the blade edge, testing the workmanship. She hissed and withdrew her hand as the blade bit into her skin, razor sharp still. She was too busy looking at her injured thumb to notice that the blood on the metal was absorbed into the blade. Just as the last drop disappeared, she turned her gaze back to the knife.

"Giles.it.it's beautiful." Willow said in awe, at a loss for words.

"It was my father's." Giles said, also looking at the dagger, fixated, but not in the same way that Willow was. It was as if he was looking at a memory. "He gave it to his Slayer. When she.well, you know, he passed it on to me. He said that when I thought it was time, I should give it to mine. Of course, being the age I was I wanted nothing to do with the council. I wantedto be a fighter pilot you see." Giles smiled at his childhood dream, then came back to reality with a blink of his eyes and a slight shake of his head. Willow smiled sadly. "I'd like for you and Xander to come to my apartment tomorrow, if you could. I think it's time you.well I think you deserve this. You've earned it in more ways than I could hope for. No matter what comes in the future, I'd just like you to know that I'm proud of you." Willow placed the dagger back on the shroud, wrapped it up again, and placed it back in the box reverently.

"Giles," She said, her voice breaking. "I don't know what to say. This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me." She stood up and hugged her Watcher. Her mentor. More than that, he had become the father that she never had. In all this time he had counselled her, he had grieved with her, and never once had he berated her. Unlike her mother. "Thank you."

"The pleasure is mine, Willow. The pleasure is mine."

------------------------------

School ended. The bells rang for the last time of the week, signifying the end of another school week for some, the end of the day for others. For some, it was a marker that another minute had gone by.

For some it was the sign of a new beginning. For others still, it was the toll of a funeral knell.

--------------------------------

Rupert sat in the library for a long time after Willow had left. He thoughtabout a lot of things, and yet nothing at the same time. Eventually his thoughtful gaze turned into a mindless stare, and he lost himself in his thoughts. So involved was he, that when Jenny Calendar walked through his library doors an hour later, he did not notice.





CHAPTER 2b

The Hanging Garden.








Willow walked through the streets, twiddling her stake around her fingers absent-mindedly as she drowned out the usual sounds of night - a car drivingpast, a siren in the background, breaking glass, the occasional cat crying. She focused on those less conspicuous sounds, those ones that Giles had trained her to listen out for. She let her body and spirit become suggestiveto feelings, in the hope that she could pick up strong emotions from a direction. Her Slayer-enhanced ears could pick up the muffled scream of someone with a blocked mouth, or the thump as a body hit the floor.or the scream of a little boy from an alleyway up ahead.

She broke into a run, and heard the sound of a rubbish bin being overturned. Reaching the entrance, she slowed down just as a young boy crashed into her. Long black hair cascaded over his tearful eyes, and hands obscured by along white shirt grasped Willow's thighs in fright.

"Lucky 19," a voice rumbled from the alley, and a figure stepped into the light cast by the street lamp. It's face was contorted, one eye completely white, over which it had a long scar, maybe five, six inches long, running down. The creature was bald and it breathed through his mouth, revealing disgusting and uncleaned teeth. The large black duster it wore billowed in thewind, and it raised an arm. Willow looked at the hands, expecting to find a weapon of some kind, but found that she couldn't see a hand. The arm ended in a hideously twisted lump of flesh, like some sort of macabre club.

"Stay behind me," She told the boy, who nodded with fright and sobbed. The redhead walked forward confidently, and the child's assailant raised an armto hit her. The club came down and Willow raised an arm to block the blow.It went straight through her defences, the force of the blow a lot stronger than she had anticipated. She went sprawling to the floor, and the thing lumbered forward once more, growling predatorily at the child, who gasped in fright and back-pedalled. Willow turned herself over on the floor, and brought her leg around viciously in a sweep that thumped into the back of thething's knees. The force of the kick made its legs buckle, and it fell to a kneeling position. Willow kicked herself up and got halfway through a crescent kick manoeuvre when it grabbed her foot and spun her over, knocking her back to the floor again. She winced and shook her head to clear it, thenregained enough sense of her position to roll to the side, narrowly avoiding being crushed by a particularly brutal slam of the mutilated arm. The resulting impact on the floor cracked the pavement. Willow rolled again and brought herself up. She looked at it in fright now, and hurried as fast as she could over to the boy, who was knelt down by a wall covering his eyes. She didn't fail to notice she walked with a slight limp, her ribs ached likehell, and she thought she may have sprained her wrist.

"We have to run," she said with some urgency. The boy looked up from the makeshift blindfold formed by the crook of his elbow, his large dark eyes gazing up at her. "I can't fight him, we have to find help." She half-ordered,half-pleaded with the boy. She extended her hand and he looked at it for half a second before taking it and hurrying off with her as fast as possible, trying as hard as she could to ignore the burning pain in her leg. The thing roared in anger and frustration at their escape, and lumbered off in the direction the pair had fled. From the shadow of a bush nearby, an obscured face smiled, its sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight

------------------------

They ran for what seemed like an eternity, until their legs burned so much that they felt like they would fall off, and their lungs were so oxygen-deprived that it hurt every time they took a breath. They stopped against a park bench and sat down to catch their breath. After half a minute or so, Willow ran a hand through her hair and looked at the boy. His face was red from the exertion of the run, and his breathing was still irregular, his lungstaking in huge gulps of air.

"I think we lost him." Willow said. The boy closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. "What's your name?" The redhead asked soothingly, crouching onher knees so she was the same height as him.

"Billy." He said simply, his breathing having stabilised slightly from its previously shallow inhalations.

"Okay Billy, do you have any idea what that thing was?" She asked with the same gentle tone she had before. It was going specifically for him, she thought after she asked him, but kept quiet for the moment.

"He's the ugly man," He replied. "He wants to kill me, and he makes bad things happen."

"Well then, that'll teach you to not be a team player Billy." A voice came from the tree above them. Willow immediately pulled the kid off the bench, and stood in front of him in a defensive stance. In the branches of the tree, hidden partly by the foliage, sat a man dressed all in black. His face was warped and distorted, the moonlight creating a dull gleam on his pallid and ravaged flesh. He had no hair and the brow was twisted in the typical vampiric manner. Willow was suddenly struck with a surge of fear and an intense desire to run. In that second she would have bolted, had her legs not been cemented to the ground by his gaze; she had seen him before, in her dreams. Every night for the past three months she had fought him, and every night he had been her murderer. He looked down on them from his perch, as a panther would look at a herd of gazelle, studying them. She looked into his piercing red eyes, trying hard to see because of the light and reached out with her Slayer senses. She touched something cold and dead, animated only by hate and anger, and a rage she had never seen the likes of before. The Master!

"Leave now and I'll let you live." Willow said threateningly, trying desperately to sound more aggressive than she felt, yet failing to conceal the waver in her voice. The vampire jumped off of his branch and landed gracefully on the ground. He straightened himself up and pulled creases out of his black shirt, and brushed a few leaves off his leather pants, before leaning against the trunk of the tree.

"You'll let me live?" He asked coldly, with vague amusement in his voice. "How novel." Willow reached behind her back and pulled a long, pointed stakefrom under her shirt and through her belt. She brought her stake hand level with her hip, clasping the wooden object, her other hand level with her chin and balled into a fist. "Oh my," The vampire said, smirking. "Threatening." He took a step forward. "You won't kill me with that."

"You'd be surprised how well it works." Willow countered. "Wanna try me?" The vampire smirked again, a small laugh escaping his throat.

"Maybe later, but now." He paused, grinning, and barely a second later, theugly man's roar came from not too far away. The Master exhaled open-mouthed for effect, creating a hissing sound. "You'd better get running." Willow took Billy's hand in hers and set off again, keeping her eyes firmly on thevampire until they rounded the corner and were out of sight.

"My friends aren't far, Billy." She said comfortingly, noticing the fatiguein the boy's run. "They can help us."

"No they can't." he replied chillingly, and Willow said nothing. Xander's house was on the next block.

Be seeing you, a voice drifted on the wind.

------------------------

Xander kicked an empty can down the street as he turned into his drive, cradling a paper bag of groceries for his dad. Once again, I get lumbered withthe shopping, while Sgt. Harris in there kicks back with another beer, he thought to himself bitterly, reaching for the door handle. He twisted it and opened, stopping for a second whilst the stench of unwashed male and beerassaulted his nose. He shook his head in disgust and his lips curled up into a snarl as he walked into the kitchen and dropped the groceries onto thetable. He picked up a six pack of Bud and made his way back into the living room, suppressing the urge to gag at the smell.

"There's your beer." He said, his voice husky with contempt for the waste of skin sitting in the chair, watching the game on the television. Xander's dad was lazy, slobbish, and verbally abusive, yet well muscled. That's whatcomes of spending your life in the military I guess, he thought, before turning away.

"You're losing yer respect boy." Xander's father drawled, his thick Texan accent adding to the alcohol abuse to slur his words further. Xander swallowed and turned around again.

"Sorry.sir." He said, feeling the bile rise in his throat. He turned away again and walked straight to his room, lying down on his bed and flicking his CD player onto play. He didn't care what was in there, he just needed to get away from that room in every sense. He kicked the door shut, and regretted it almost as soon as he felt his boot come into contact with the wood. The door flung into its hinges, splintering it slightly and creating a resounding WHAM.

"What in the." Xander's father grumbled from the living room. Xander groaned and closed his eyes at the sounds of lumbering boots became louder and louder. The door was flung open in the opposite direction. The massive frame of his father filled the doorway.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOIN BOY? YA THINK THIS IS SOME SORTA HOTEL?" His face went red.

"Look, I'm sorry about the door Dad."

"Don't you talk back to me boy.don't you dare talk back to me. You're talkin to yer old man, not that red-head BITCH you." Xander's father was cut offas his son's knuckles connected with his jaw. The older man was thrown back in shock and surprise, clutching his jaw. Xander didn't relent, he moved in for another swing and caught him with an uppercut to the jaw. His fathersprawled out on the floor, anger and fear mixed in his eyes.

"Don't ever talk about Willow in that way again. If you do, I'll."

"You'll what?" His father drawled, spitting blood onto the floor. He stood up with a speed that belied his size and backhanded his son across the face. Hard. Xander fell backwards onto his bed, blood flowing from his nose andfrom a cut on his lip, undisguised hatred flowing from his still defiant eyes. That just angered his father more, and he moved in for another strike,when suddenly someone thumped on the door hard, and thumped again in quicksuccession.

"Who the fuck is that?" The older man asked rhetorically, and gave his son a meaningful glare before he stalked off to the door, stopping to grab a walking stick propped up on the wall by it. Xander remembered that walking stick. As a kid, he had to walk through the living room from the garden. His dad used to sit in the chair he'd been in this evening, having had a few beers, and lash out with that stick if Xander walked in front of his view of the T.V.. Subconsciously he touched the scar on his knee through his trousers, where once he'd caught a jagged end. Sniffing away tears and blood, he looked up. His father was arguing with someone at the door, gripping his cane and slowly raising it higher and higher. Xander stood up from his bed and walked quietly around, trying to see who was at the door and at the same time trying to avoid catching his father's attention. He felt warm blood begin to trickle down his lip again just as he got to the angle where he could see who it was.



Willow hurried with Billy up the drive to Xander's house. She heard shouting inside and slowed down, thinking again about this. Her fear overrode her doubts and she confidently knocked on the door. After a few seconds and no response she knocked again. She raised her fist for the third time when thedoor opened about ten inches. Xander's father stood at the opening, red inthe face and breathing heavy. Willow noticed a small amount of blood at the corner of his mouth, a fight? She tried to look inside but he was blocking her.

"Yeah, whaddyou want?" He slurred. She smelt beer and blood on his breath. Next to her, Billy clutched her hand a little tighter.

"Is Xander in?" She asked, trying to see round him again.

"Xander can't come to the door right now. You'll see him at school. Now getlost." He said, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his bloodied mouth, and a wicked gleam in his eyes. Willow didn't like the feeling of this situation.

"Where is he?" She asked, her tone becoming more threatening.

"Xander ain't here!" The man shouted. "Piss off!" Willow's lips tightened. In the corner of her vision she noticed movement and looked past the older man's shoulder into the house. Standing against the wall about ten metres away was Xander, blood running from his nose and his lip split. The Slayer'seyes widened and a flame of rage that had been burning away slowly inside her was ignited. She felt its heat flow through her blood, setting her muscles ablaze and her adrenal glands into overdrive.

"What the FUCK have you DONE?" She screamed at Xander's father, pushing himback into the house. He stumbled back, surprised by her strength. "That's your SON! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" She screamed, stalking forward,Billy in tow, looking decidedly frightened by this development. Xander's father recovered and swung the cane at Willow, but she caught him in mid swing and slammed down forcefully on his wrist, hearing an audible snap. The big Texan roared in agony and dropped the stick. Xander joined Willow's side, wiping the blood on his face away with his cuff. He stood over the older man, looking down at him.

"Xander.help yer old man.call an ambulance. I think my wrist's broke." He pleaded, looking up at his son as if nothing had happened in the last five minutes. Xander looked at him in disgust and pity, seeing for the first timewhat a truly pathetic individual that man was. All throughout his life, hehad been afraid of that man, afraid to back talk him, afraid to even breathe around him. This same man who was cradling his hurt wrist on the floor, wincing in pain.

"You're not my father." Xander said, walking out of the house. Willow fixedhim with a piercing gaze when Xander had gone.

"If you ever lay another finger on him, I will come back to find you. If you run from me I will hunt you down. And I will make you pay for every time you have ever touched him." She looked at him in silence for another second. The temperature seemed to literally drop. Xander's father had absolutely no doubt in his mind that she meant what she had said. Every syllable. 

"Come on Billy." She said to the boy, who had gone very quiet. They walked out together, closing the door behind them with a gentle click.



End part 2.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jamie
jamie@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"So go ahead and label me an asshole cuz I can accept responsibility for what I've done, but not for who I am." - NOFX, 'Don't Call Me White'
http://www.buffywillow.com

Glory: Funny. 'Cause I look around at this world you're so eager to be a part of ... and all I see is six billion lunatics looking for the fastest ride out. Who's not crazy? Look around. Everyone's drinking, smoking, shootingup ... shooting each other, or just plain screwing their brains out 'causethey don't want 'em anymore. *I'm* crazy? Honey, I'm the original one-eyedchicklet in the kingdom of the blind. 'Cause at least I admit the world makes me nuts. 

Xander: Yeah, I'm gonna have to go with deadboy on this one. 
Angel: Could you not call me that?