Fic: Survivors 1/2

[Crys Loch <pagansoul@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

Title:  Survivors

Author:  Crys Loch

Email:  pagansoul@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx <mailto:pagansoul@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx>

Feedback:  Yes, please.

Distribution:  I have no site.  If you have my other works, feel free.  
If you want, ask and I'll probably say yes.

Spoilers:  These are Season 7 characters without the Season 7 plot. 
(forget the potentials, First, et al.)

Rating:  NC-17

Pairing:  B/W  (with all other up to season 7 pairings implied)

Disclaimer:  I did not create, nor do I own the characters or their 
premise.  Joss Whedon did and does.  This is for fan fun and no profit.

Summery:  They're survivors barely recovering.  They can help each other.

One Last Thing:  A darker fic than the others.



Survivors

By C.L.



Willow said she wanted to go on patrol.  Said she needed to get out of 
the house.  Said she had to get back into the fight.  And now Willow was 
probably dead.



Buffy was cursing to herself as the four vampires circled around her.  
Her mind screaming she didn't have time for this as she pulled her stake 
from the fifth disintegrating vamp.  Just before she was attacked, she 
saw three others drag Willow away; heard Willow calling her name; then 
heard only silence from that direction. 



Buffy was growing impatient and angry as the four remaining vampires 
only circled her, trying to keep her detained.  She taunted and teased 
them, trying to force them to engage in the inevitable battle.  Every 
time she moved towards one, they shifted as a unit, keeping her in their 
center.  She almost drew one into attacking, remarking that his mom must 
have been a werewolf in heat.  She knew she needed to get to Willow.  
That silence as Willow left her sight echoed with panic in her mind. 



'You don't have time for this!' her mind screamed at her, pushing her 
into more direct action.  Deciding she had higher priorities than this 
fight, Buffy tried to run through the group.  Two of the vamps closed 
together to block her and finally, at least, she could hit something.  
Kicking one at the knees to drop him to the ground, she knocked the 
other back with a fist almost through his jaw, then finished him with a 
stake through his heart.  Again, she tried to simply run and catch up to 
Willow.  Again, the other two vampires blocked her escape.  'Fine.'  Her 
mind focused and her smile grew predatory.  'You boys just committed 
suicide.' 



The remaining fight lasted longer than Buffy wanted or planned.  The one 
she had sent to the ground with a blow to the knees was easily staked 
when he rose and attacked her again.  But the remaining two, they were 
trained fighters.  Perhaps they were soldiers once, or maybe they had 
lived the unlife for a time.  They met her blow for blow, and in the 
violence of the kicks and the strikes, the blocks and moves: her body 
fell into the rhythm of the fight and her mind got lost in the lust for 
the kill.  Her expression drained to a blank and her eyes focused on 
blocking their next move and taking her next opportunity.  She only 
wanted the kill.  And when the battle was done; there was only dust and 
new bruises.  Her labored breathing and racing pulse felt empty and 
lacking life.  She felt there was little in her heart now to feed her 
body.  She hunted and she killed.  And for a little longer each night, 
she felt that was all that remained of life inside of her: the Slayer.  
Then her mind slowly again became aware of what had happened earlier and 
that Willow needed her help.  Her heart beat rapid again, this time with 
a purpose, caring; mixed with anxiety and fear.   She raced into the 
direction the vampires left with Willow, but was forced to slow down and 
track where they might have gone.   



'This can't be happening this way, not now,' Buffy pleaded with the 
unknown as she followed broken branches and footprints through the 
cemetery. 



The night had started with a little hope.  A day filled with more 
stuttered conversations than awkward silences was an improvement.  They 
had talked, with each other, in short parts, starts than halts, almost 
throughout the day.  The little conversations slowly tempting the 
remains of their friendship back into their home.  It all reminded Buffy 
of the time a stray cat had chanced to their door hoping for food.  She 
would leave a little food outside hoping one day the cat would approach 
a little closer in her presence, stay a little longer when there was 
movement in the house, hesitate to run when she opened the door, and 
maybe even someday come inside.  That was how she thought of her 
friendship with Willow.  Maybe if they kept feeding it, it would keep 
coming back, and one day, trusting again, would remain.  And so they 
joked a little.  They shared dinner.  They talked in kind voices with 
open hands.  Little movements.  Pausing the conversations.  Like leaving 
the food out then easing the door shut. 



And this day had been easier than the others since Willow's return from 
England.  They even talked of magic.  How it's a part of Willow now.  
How it is not now or ever was a drug in her blood, but it was now the 
blood itself.  And the awful truth of what that meant- that it was her 
that chose to use it to do what was done.  It reminded Buffy of her 
Slayer powers and strength, what she could choose to do.  It reminded 
Buffy of Faith.  But what was left unsaid this day was as important as 
what was said. 



They even talked about Spike.  A soul returned, the chip gone bad and 
removed, and a continued relationship she could neither justify nor 
explain.  She appreciated what Willow left unsaid.  Willow had been back 
for months and today they had finally started really talking, in parts.  
The night had started in a little hope.  And since everything is 
relative, that had meant a great deal. 



She needed Willow.  Needed her in a way she dare not admit or it would 
be taken.  Willow understood now, they both knew these things: the loss, 
emptiness, pain, the never ceasing fight, the desire for destruction, 
and the will to create a sustainable life anyway.  A sustainable life.  
It was all she hoped to build now.  After finally accepting the dull 
scars caused by having to kill the ones she couldn't save.  Realizing 
there was a thrill to the hunt, the chase.  Releasing her passions, so 
tainted and stained by being mixed with her power, on one who would not 
be hurt.  And by accepting these, accept also the love of family and 
friends.  There was laughter, music, food and sleep.  There was a 
sustainable life.  And the never ending fight.



The trail finally led to a crypt at the other end of the cemetery.  She 
paused only the moment it took to put her thoughts and fears to the back 
of her mind, leaving it blank and hard as stone.  She did let all the 
worry she felt feed her anger and ready her body.  Prepared to kill, she 
kicked open the door and ran down the stairs, pausing only when the 
scene before her contradicted every fear she still held locked in her 
heart.  Buffy stopped in the middle of a seemly empty room.  Torches 
were lit and hanging from stone walls and she noticed footprints on the 
dirt floor and dust swirling and filling the air.  She looked around 
slowly for the vampires.  Her breathing was labored she noted as she 
listened intently for danger her eyes could not find.  There was nothing 
but stillness, silence.  Her eyes focused on the only moving image: 
Willow hung in chains against the wall.  Buffy's breath stopped, adding 
to the silence.  



Willow's wrists were locked to the wall above her head.  She was staring 
blankly across the room, her breathing slow and calm.  Buffy noticed the 
black roots in her red hair, and eyes as dark as coal.  'Dieing embers,' 
thought Buffy, 'that could still set the world ablaze.'  Buffy took one 
more look around the room then started slowly towards her friend.



"Willow!  Are you okay?  I was afraid... so much time had passed."  
Buffy glanced at each side of Willow's neck, quickly and covertly, but 
still intent on facing this fear.  Their eyes met and Buffy closed her 
own against the cold smile that formed on Willow's otherwise 
expressionless face.



"Did they bite me, Buffy?  I was knocked out.  I woke up here.  I'd 
check myself, but..."  She rattled the chains that held her arms to 
finish her sentence.  Buffy's heart almost stopped at the suddenly loud 
echo of metal against stone and at the equally shattered tone in 
Willow's voice.  Something more than just a fight had happened here, 
Buffy realized.  Willow was alive and apparently victorious, but she 
sounded defeated.  She watched as Willow returned her stare to the far wall.



"No.  They didn't bite you.  I think you're okay.  Are you okay?"  Buffy 
moved towards Willow, intent on getting her friend out of the chains and 
out of this crypt.   



"Don't come near me."  It was a whisper, harsh and urgent.



Buffy stopped.  "I only want to get you down."  She whispered in return.



"I didn't even need a pencil this time to save myself."  Willow 
continued as if not hearing Buffy's words.  "They just burst into flame 
one at a time."  She paused, still staring at the far wall.  "These 
irons are nothing."



Buffy felt the buzz of magic fill the space around Willow.  She could 
smell a dry acrid residue in the air, and she wondered if magic had a 
scent or if it was the smoke of burning vamps and their dust that now 
grated the back of her throat.  "Stop!" Buffy commanded, slightly 
panicked, then waited until Willow finally looked at her.  "Keys," she 
motioned to the wall and continued slowly forward.  Buffy reached up 
against Willow to unlock her arms.  She could feel the static air around 
her.  She herself was still taunt with energy from the fight and the 
need to reach Willow in time.  Releasing Willow, they took a few steps 
back away from each other.  Silence again fell across the room.



"You should go.  Away.  Leave.  I need...  I need to..."  Buffy heard 
Willow's words and she watched her friend's internal struggle.  Willow 
was shivering slightly, though the crypt was not cold.  Buffy's heart 
leapt with fear than sank in pain as Willow's face betrayed the 
struggle.  She watched Willow's eyes spark and a joyless smile spread, 
though only for a moment, but a moment too long, before her face fell to 
show defeat near tears and settled back to an expressionless blank.  
Buffy watched and realization settled inside of her, absolute.  Willow 
had used magic again and for the first time since coming home to the 
Hellmouth.  And just as with her own coming home, darkness had found a 
way inside.  That was why even in victory, Willow seemed defeated.



"No."  Buffy finally understood too well what this darkness was, in 
herself and in Willow now.  It was a void: empty cold space between 
death and life.  Always there was the ache to fill it.  And that 
couldn't be done alone.  If ignored it only seemed to grow until you 
didn't care that it was there.  Buffy knew it had to be filled.  Willow 
needed to feel life, let it fill into the space until what little 
remained could close up and scar.  "No.  I can't leave you alone.  You 
have to come with me."  Buffy started to reach out with her hand, then 
let it drop at seeing Willow's cold eyes.  She started to take a step 
then hesitated and settled back into just standing and waiting for 
Willow's reaction.



Willow noticed Buffy's hesitation.  "You're afraid of me."



"No."  Buffy still didn't move.  She wasn't afraid of Willow, but she 
couldn't explain her fear.  She remembered again the stray cat.



"You're afraid for the world."  Willow was thrilled briefly at the 
thought.  "First time out and your little sidekick is back in black, 
huh?  Well, this is how it is now, and I've got to learn to live with 
that.  But I'm afraid you can't live with me.  And you're just afraid."



"No.  I'm not afraid of that, Willow."  And to prove it, Buffy started 
slowly walking to Willow.  She didn't want to provoke her, but she 
wanted to reassure her, convey she understood what had happened and what 
she was feeling now.  "You did something you had to do to survive.  You 
did whatever you had to do to survive."  Buffy reached her friend and 
gently took her hand.  "But I'm going to ask that you trust me.  You 
can't stay alone.  You have to feel, remember, why you survived."



"Buffy, just go.  I promise I won't end the world.  I can deal with 
this."  Willow let her growing anger be heard in her tone.



"I know."  Buffy tried again.  She had thought of her friendship as 
something lost or hiding.  Now she realized they had just been angry 
with each other.  Each time one was hurting and the other didn't seem to 
notice, care or help; they took a step back away from the other.  The 
distance making it harder to reach out the next time, and so it had 
continued until now they stood at the edges of their chasm; stubbornly 
hoping a bridge could be built; neither daring to be the first to 
cross.  Buffy was ready to make the leap.  There wasn't much to lose 
anymore by crossing the distance only to be rejected.  If they could 
just trust and help each other, all the rest would work out.  They 
needed each other too much and needed too much from each other after all 
these years to just walk on egg shells hoping it could mend itself.  
"Willow, I don't think you're gonna end the world over killing some 
vamps.  But you got the after fight deadness going on.  And I can help." 



"If you leave I can just deal with this on my own."  Willow's voice lost 
some of the anger and she stared slightly confused at their joined hands.



"If I leave you'll just swallow it and it will stay inside of you.  If 
you trust me, we can burn it out."  Buffy held her breath.  There it 
was.  Would Willow trust her?  She watched as Willow's gaze traveled up 
to her own eyes.  Buffy let a calm sureness show in her eyes and a small 
smile erase the worry on her face.  Still, her heart raced, waiting for 
the answer.  She didn't fear Willow anymore, in her currant state or her 
potential.  This shared darkness was like a common ground they could 
finally stand on together.  She stared unflinching into Willow's black 
eyes, willing her to see that this time, this night, she could be 
trusted: to understand and to help.   



"I feel cold."  Willow offered a weak smile and gave Buffy's hand a 
light squeeze.



"I know.  Come on."  Buffy took the admission as acceptance and started 
to gently pull Willow out of the crypt.  She had an idea, a plan to burn 
off the residue of the fight, spark life and remember the fun.  It 
usually worked for her, even if it was Faith who introduced it to her.



They continued, leaving the cemetery and moving down a deserted street.  
The Bronze wasn't far from the cemetery.  Nothing in Sunnydale was ever 
far from a cemetery.  "Normal cities have central parks," Buffy muttered 
to herself.



When Willow saw their destination, she stopped.  "What the hell!  I'm 
not going in there."



"Why?"  Buffy challenged.



"I can't.  Be around people.  I'm not safe right now."  Willow was 
looking at Buffy like she betrayed her, or was a little insane.



Buffy sighed and took both of Willow's hands in her own.  She heard the 
hint of pain in Willow's voice and noticed a look of failure gray her 
eyes just before Willow bowed her head to stare at the ground.  Buffy 
tried to reassure and push her.  "You're safe, Willow.  Or at least as 
safe as you've ever been."  She smiled to take all the harm out.  
"There's music and dancing in there.  The stuff to take the mind off it 
and the blood pumping.  I promise, if the magic bleeds out and the place 
goes Technicolor disco land, I'll say something."



Again, Buffy met and held Willow's blank stare.  There was no expression 
on Willow's face to give a hint at the decision being made.  So she kept 
her own features open and her eyes caring.  "You're safe, Willow," she 
repeated.  "You're safe with me.  The people in there are safe with 
you.  And this isn't about them anyway.  It's about us.  Me, pulling you 
back into life."  Buffy continued, trying to get Willow to understand 
that she understood.  Trying to ask Willow to trust.  "I'll bet you 
can't even feel your heart beating right now.  I bet you barely feel my 
hands on yours."  She kept a non-judgmental sureness in her tone, and 
watched as Willow took in a sudden breath as her words hit home.   



"Okay, but if people start turning into frogs, it's your fault.  Frogs 
creep me out."  Willow relented.



Buffy's smile widened in relief as she pulled her into the club, paying 
at the door along the way.  The first stop was the bar.  Buffy wasn't 
sure alcohol was the best idea right now, but thought it really wouldn't 
hurt either.  Buffy left Willow at the edge as she slid through the 
crowd to order their drinks.  Returning with two beers in her hands she 
stopped to observe her friend.  She noticed most of the people were 
avoiding Willow, moving away and around her, probably not even aware of 
why they were uneasy.  But two guys, and she smirked when she realized 
one girl, were trying to get Willow's attention and acceptance.  Buffy 
watched for a moment as they moved into Willow's space.  She wasn't sure 
if they were flirting or challenging, but she could tell by the 
expression on Willow's face and the way her hands flexed into fists and 
then released that they were unwelcome and would soon be turned into 
frogs.  She wondered what it was in some that attracted them to the 
dangerous as she hurried back through the crowd to run interference.  
Whatever it was, she knew she had it in herself.



Buffy handed Willow her beer and ignoring the others, pulled her from 
them and over to a table.  In an attempt to make it clear they were not 
to follow, she placed her arm around Willow's waist as they made their 
way through the crowd.



Sitting at a table, Willow watched Buffy take a seat opposite her and 
start on her beer.  "Okay, um, thanks for the escort, but what was that 
about?"



"Your rescue.  You didn't look overly happy with the guys, or even the 
girl."  Buffy shrugged and took another sip of her beer.



"Well, you're right.  Though the girl wasn't that bad.  But there was 
about to be a little mayhem if they didn't back off."  Willow looked 
down and then took a long sip of her beer.



Buffy smiled and took Willow's free hand in her own.  If there was one 
thing she could readily empathize with a tendency for, it was violence.  
"If they didn't back off, there would be a guy flying through a wall, 
slayer style."



Willow looked up.  "Why are we here again?"



"To remember the fun.  The why we survive."  Buffy repeated, touching 
her beer to Willow's as if it was a toast.  "Screw guilt."



"To strange bedfellows."  Willow toasted back, then drank till she had 
to breathe.  "Besides, you have less to feel guilty over."



Buffy just stared at Willow for a moment.  She gave herself time to 
think about just what she really wanted to say and how to say it.  
Things between them were actually getting better now.  And if she could 
say this right, maybe they could finally say anything to each other 
again.  "Well, I could give the list, but many you were the one to call 
me on in the first place.  Or just forgave me outright.  So lets just 
move along to my two most recent crimes."



"Buffy."  Willow tried to interrupt.



Buffy continued.  "No, Will.  This is good.  Guilt's shy, can't screw 
with the lights on.  So lets talk about this.  The second most recent 
being I was so angry and empty at being brought back here that I 
abandoned you, all of you.  I turned my back and left you to fight your 
demons on your own.  And there were consequences and as the Initiative 
would call it, collateral damage."



"That wasn't your fault, that was mine."  Willow just stared at what 
remained of her beer.



"Fault, no.  That was no-one's fault save for one bastard in 
particular.  Guilt?  There's plenty of guilt all around.  Plus, the next 
most recent is the fact that I asked those same Initiative guys to 
remove Spike's chip.  Thus giving him his teeth back and perhaps killing 
us all in our sleep.  Though his style is more take your time and hear 
'em screaming."  Buffy wasn't sure what compelled her to this 
conversation and confession.  This is not what she had in mind, but she 
wanted Willow to understand she wasn't the only one trying to live with 
herself.



"While we are on this subject, what the hell were you thinking?!"  
Willow erupted accusingly then slouched back down in her seat, letting 
out a breath and staring at the table.  "And when did everything go from 
black and white good guys and bad guys to shades of gray slippery slopes 
that could end the world?" 



Buffy laughed again.  At least Willow was going to play along with this 
little bit of clearing the air.  "I don't know.  That he has a soul 
now.  But please don't think for a moment that means he's not 
dangerous.  He's no Angel."  At Willow's shaking her head at the bad 
pun, she continued on.  "He's not safe, Willow.  He's just obsessed.  
But he could be one of the good guys.  With everything he's done, I 
thought he deserved the chance.  We'll find out I guess."



"You love him?"  Willow offered.



Buffy shook her head.  "No.  But two out of three ain't bad."



Willow thought a moment about the reference, finally placing it.  It 
only added to how messed up she thought they were right now.  "Spike's 
back and Warren's dead."  Willow touched her beer to Buffy's in another 
toast and took a long sip.



"That about sums it up."  Buffy agreed and joined her.  "I am glad I 
have you back.  You, how you are.  Not past you, back in high school 
times."  She held Willow's disbelieving eyes, refusing to blink or take 
the words back.  "It must feel like being pulled back into hell, being 
here, around all this again."  Buffy offered.



Willow's breath caught at the reference.  She looked at her life now and 
tried to explain.  "It's just that everyone is so afraid of saying 
anything around me, of saying it the wrong way.  Or maybe they're just 
afraid of me.  And it's so lonely.  Plus, every time I do magic, it 
touches something here.  That something being the Hellmouth.  But I 
can't not do magic.  Cause there's this whole fight for the Hellmouth 
thing.  And yeah, there's some anger, that you all would let me go that 
far, then expect me to come back and fight some more.  Oh."



"I know."  Buffy was relieved that Willow said it out loud.  Now maybe 
she could get back on track and show Willow why they even bothered with 
the fight in the first place.  "Still, I'm so glad to have you back.  
You know what we need to do now?"



"Try to destroy the world?"  Willow tempered the suggestion with a grin.



"No, Brain.  Dance."  Buffy drained her beer, smiling when she was able 
to down the almost full bottle without spilling a drop.



"Pinky, you're nuts."  Willow pointed out, she felt, yet again.



"Will,"  Buffy rose from her seat and taking Willow's hand, pulled her 
towards the dance floor.  "If you're gonna fight me the whole way it 
will only make me want it more."



Buffy pulled Willow to the dance floor.  Dancing always got her blood 
pumping and her mind off death and violence.  She moved effortlessly to 
some no lyrics techno that the DJ piped through speakers turned up too 
loud.  So quickly, she seemed lost in her own world and a beat that 
interfered with her heart's rhythm.  Her eyes were closed, hands moving 
through her hair and over her swaying hips, as if there was someone 
dancing with her.  Then she felt that no one was dancing with her.




Willow: "It's a good fight, Buffy, and I want in."
Buffy:  "I kinda love you."
                     'Choices'

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