FIC: Dianna Wears Red: Secundus- Fifth Test(1/2)

[Mad Hamlet <Mad-Hamlet@xxxxxxx>]

Greetings,

For reasons of my own I will be both attaching, and copy/pasting this work.
Personally I think attachments look better while C/P messes up formatting, or
can. 

If you're wise enough to recieve email posts either way should pose no
problem. However if the C/P does mess up the formatting right after posting
this I'll be sending a copy to my archive at Realm of Shadows.

Enjoy.

I remain, as always,
Mad-Hamlet

Disclaimer: All this belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. (Not that he’s
doing anything productive with them anymore.)


Drain Brameged Inc. Proudly Presents
	A Mad-Hamlet Production


		Dianna Wear Red- Secundus
			   Fifth Test


	We run along side the road, from one streetlights glow to the next, for a
moment I was worried that passing cars would notice us; silly wiccan, this is
Sunnydale. 


	I can barely breath, yellow and green dots are flickering in and out in my
vision. I hear this rasping deep in my chest every time I exhale. My feet are
leaden and it takes conscious effort to hold my head up and not just watch the
ground pass by. 

	The Hunter, who is still cradling Buffy to her chest, hasn't even broken a
sweat. 

	"We're almost," Inhale, ow, exhale, ow, inhale, ow, exhale, ow. "There." I
gasp. "Just," Ow. "Another block."

	"We should rest," The Hunter says calmly; God I hate her. "You can stop, I'll
go on ahead."

	"No," I shake my head and nearly fall over from the effort. My feet fall
heavily; a few steps more progress. "I," Inhale. "Stay with Buffy. '"Sides,
you'd have to deal," Thud, thud, thud, yay three more steps; I want to die. 
"With Joyce."	

	"Joyce?" The Hunter inquires, taking long even strides with long strong legs
that I will, in no shape or form, be jealous of. I normally would be, but I'm
focusing on breathing. 

	"Buffy's," Whee, pretty lights. "Mother."

	"Mother," The Hunter repeats. Hey, either I'm suffering for auditory
hallucinations or did The Hunter sound nervous just then? "Is she
protective?"

	"Let," Gasp. "Me put it this way," I focus on my shoes, ignore the fireball
where my lungs should be, look at my pretty shoes and keep moving! "Mama
bear."

	"Mama Bear," The Hunter repeats, without slowing down. "Shit."

	"Uh-huh," I nod, grinning; at least I think I'm grinning. I'm so tired,
facial muscles might be all loose and zombiesh.

	
	We run for a bit in silence. Okay, honestly I stagger about while The Hunter
moves at a brisk walk. "Here," I point to Buffy's house. I pull myself up the
steps and lean on the doorbell for probably too long. "Wait just a second." I
gasp. 

	Far too quickly the door opens, Joyce says from the doorway. "Oh hello
Willow," she says, smiling in that 'mom' way. At least I think it's a 'mom'
way, my mom never smiled like that; maybe once or twice when I was a baby.
"This is a nice surprise; is Buffy with-" her eyes flicker downward. 


It's dark, the lighting is poor and what's left of the Council Member all over
my outfit probably blends in with the shadows well.

	Personal query: I am currently wearing the remains of another person, why am
I not flipping out? 

	Later.

	"Oh my God," Joyce almost screams. "Willow are you alright? Get inside we
have to-"

	"Fine, I'm fine," I move towards her. "It's not mine, not even a good
persons; it's-" Joyce cuts me off; she just put it together…if I'm here and