Paradise Dreams (1b/?)

Disclaimers in part a

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Willow sat staring out of the window at the blue ocean far below. She had pored over the files that Giles had sent her three times. And she had to admit there was nothing. There had been a report of a new kind demon holding up in the London underground. Two Slayers were dispatched on a recon, their bodies were found drained and mutilated hours later by the police. Willow looked at both the crime scene photos and the autopsy photos and she just couldn't believe so much damage could be done in so little time. It looked as if the girls had been tortured for days, not hours. The idea of an interdimensional being immediately jumped into Willow's mind ? only to be discounted. The time runs faster than on earth but there should have more changes to the bodies, longer hair, nails, or any one of a number of things.

She sighed and stood to walk around the spacious cabin of the plane. It was a newer model of the Gulf Stream. It was large enough to transport a small army of Slayers.

It was also fully stocked with any kind of medical supplies that that small army of Slayers might need. The best thing about the plane was that it was fast. The flight from Boston to the private airstrip outside of London was only six and half hours.

The ringing satellite phone pulled Willow out of her thoughts. She knew who it was before she answered.

Kennedy.

She had the sudden urge to just let it ring and deal with it later. But she couldn't do that; it could have been someone else calling from the States. Finally, she picked it up.

"Rosenberg." she said into the phone with her usual forcefulness.

"Just what the in the Hell do you think you're doing?"

It was Kennedy. Kennedy was in full brat mode.

"What is so damn important that you couldn't wake me up to come with you?" Willow heard the hurt in her lover's voice and immediately felt guilty.

"Oh, let me guess? Did little Miss Prefect Slayer Prime break a nail and call for her Willow to come running?" The venom in her lover's voice shocked Willow. It also made her mad.

"No Kennedy, and this reaction proves that I was right in just leaving." Willow's hand clutched the phone so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. "Something is going on in the UK and I had to be there, after this weekend . . . " Willow stopped the lie before it could leave her mouth. 'Gods, how does she do this to me? What am I afraid of? C'mon and just tell her' the Wiccan thought quickly to herself.

"Well, I'm waiting," Kennedy spit into the phone.

Willow could almost see her lover holding the phone while sitting up in bed. Kennedy hated it when she would get up early and not tell her where she was going, even if it was just downstairs. It wasn't the bad kind of concern in a psycho-controlling-stalker and wife-beater kind of way, it was the good kind as in, "I want to be around you even when you are in boring meetings that last for hours" kind of concern. The redhead knew that most of the Slayer's anger was coming from her hurt.

"There's a new Big Bad in London that has already taken out a squad," she told her lover of ten years. Then Willow braced to tell her the rest. "Buffy was injured and I think ? " Willow heard the heavy sigh from the other end.

"I'm coming," Kennedy said cutting her off. "I'll be on the first flight out." Willow knew that she was right. That Kennedy should have gone with her to begin with--but it still felt like an invasion--she didn't want the other Slayer here. She didn't want Ken to see Buffy like she was at the moment.

Still, there was no augment that she could come up with to keep the Slayer in Boston.

"OK, I'll be in Medical unless something changes." Willow hung up the phone and sat back down. Her conversation with Kennedy forgotten as soon as she disconnected. Her thoughts turning to Buffy and wondering what she would find when she got there.

**********

Buffy?s breath came in harsh gasps as she struggled to keep running down the hall to the library. She had to reach it in time, she just had to, or she would die. She forced her cramping legs to keep moving, to propel her forward as she staggered into the metal lockers that lined the wall. Not having enough strength to stop her momentum she bounced off the lockers and then hit the wall on the other side of the long hallway.

Like a pinball she continued down the hallway only to slam into the library doors, one hitting the wall so hard that its handle imbedded into the drywall. Buffy stood a few steps inside the door, frantically scanning the occupants of the table in the middle of the main floor.

?Buffy! What?s the matter!? her best friend cried.

?Dramatic entrance Buffster, what?s the up?? Xander asked, standing up and glancing around the large room.

Buffy leaned forward and put her hands on her knees, taking in great grasps of air, trying to calm her racing heart. The fight and then her panicked run from Breaker's Woods exhausting her to the point of collapse.

?Giles, Willow, Xander . . . ? she was able to say between breaths. ?They want to change you; they want open the Hellmouth by changing you all,? she said finally being able to get enough air to choke out her warning. Straightening up and starting to walk toward her two friends she didn?t notice the vampire behind until it was too late.

It slammed into her back, throwing her through the air. She landed face up on the middle of a table. Instantly her best friend grabbed her hands and pulled them over her head as Xander grabbed one leg, then Giles the other one.

She yanked on the bruising hold her best friend had on her wrists and was unable to break free, she tried to kick out with her legs, but Giles and Xander held fast. She felt steel manacles being snapped around her small wrists and looked up into the yellow eyes of the ?

The Master.

She was too late.

?No, please no!?

*******

?Willow, it?s so good to see you,? Giles said as he took her into his arms. She noted that the stuffy British Watcher had grown more open with his emotions over the last few years.

?Any change?? she asked as he released her. They started walking down the tunnel that lead from the private landing field to the main complex. The tunnel was a Xander design; it was made of concrete with crosses embedded in the floors and walls. The roof was heavy duty safety glass, so even if demons tried to attack the complex they wouldn?t be able to use the tunnel to gain entrance. Tunnels connected the entire complex and were considered the escape routes should the buildings themselves come under attack.

?None.? Giles said as he took off his glasses and began cleaning them. Willow knew that what was coming would be bad news. ?She is using the drugs at an extraordinary rate and even heavily sedated she never loses consciousness long enough for the doctors to tend her wounds or clean her up.? He sighed and then looked down at the Wiccan. ?If we can?t get her under control then I?m afraid . . . ? He trailed off and Willow could hear him sniffing. She faced away to give him some privacy.

As they entered into the main hallway, she noticed that no one was in the halls or on the stairs.

?Where is everyone?? she asked, trying to figure out what was happening. Even though it was eight o?clock at night the Council?s day was normally just getting started.

Giles let out another sigh and motioned Willow to follow him onto the lift to go down into the medical levels below the main building. ?Anyone not on active duty is in the research center trying to figure out the cause for Buffy?s ? infirmity.?

Willow nodded. Buffy was the Slayer Prime, the First Slayer, she was the one that called the army so that now no Slayer had to face death alone. In the ten years since the ?Calling? as the Slayers referred to it, Buffy had become their spiritual leader as well as their commander.

?So is there anything about this being some kind of spell?? she asked as they left the lift and walked down the long white hallway. This was Medical; it was a fully equipped hospital that had the extras that Slayer's needed. One of which was reinforced tie downs or restraints on each bed.

Giles paused by a door and turned to look at Willow. ?The seers haven?t found any taint of magic on her. Of course the best way to find out would be to have some of her blood but we haven?t been able draw any from her.? He opened the door and lead Willow into the observation room next to Buffy?s. One of the white-coated doctors looked up from a printout when they entered.

?Dr. Rosenberg!? The young blonde doctor said, relieved. Willow nodded a greeting to the young man and then looked through the observation window at her ? best friend. And it nearly broke her heart. Buffy was tied down to the soiled bed with chains, her blonde hair matted and dirty. A gash covered one side of her face and she had dried blood on her shirt. The Slayer's mouth was moving but she couldn?t hear the words.

?What is she saying?? Willow asked the doctor. Turning to him she took the printout out of his hands. She knew what it was because she had received copies while in route. They were monitoring Buffy?s vital signs to make sure she stayed physically stable.

Giles turned away from the observation window. ?As near as we know, she is repeating. 'No, please no,' continuously.? Willow looked into his green eyes. They were so much like Buffy?s that he could have been her actual father.

?She was saying that this morning. There has been no variance at all?? The Witch needed the information. At Giles? bleak nod she had an idea, it was farfetched but they had no other ideas at the moment. ?We need to check physically. You said she was brought in unconscious?? Giles nodded. ?Then why didn?t they clean her up and check her then?? Willow needed the answers.

?She came out of it to quickly and has been uncontrollable since,? Willow saw that he was trying to portray the always calm and in control Head of the Council of Slayers and Watchers, but she could see the pain in his eyes. With Buffy living in the UK, the rift in their relationship had healed over time.

"Well, I need to go in there and see her," Willow told Giles.

***********

Buffy woke up gasping for air, trying to pull in enough oxygen between her sobs. She looked around her bedroom, confused, noticed that the clock said 4:30 . . . . Willow turned. Willow dead. Willow turned, Willow dead, Willow turned, Willow dead . . . over and over it ran through her mind until finally she threw off her sheets and blankets. It was a dream, it might not have happened, it was a dream, only a dream, Willow dead . . . .

The Slayer jumped up and grabbed the first thing she saw, a pair of sweats. She didn?t take the time to change out of her pajamas as she hopped into the sweat pants on the way down the stairs, and then slipped on the hooded sweat shirt as she dashed out into the cool pre-dawn morning.

Willow?s house was only a few blocks away, yet it seemed as if her feet were stuck in tar. She ran and she ran, the tears blurring her vision, and still she ran, stumbling, falling, her hands and knees scraped raw. Willow dead, Willow turned, she ran. The five minutes stretch out, until it felt like an hour. She had to get to Willow in time, she had to save her Willow or she would die . . . forget her calling, forget everything . . . .

A payphone on the corner of Willow?s street rang right when she reached it. She didn?t care, she ignored it. Another payphone, at Willow?s driveway rang, again she ignored it.

She looked up and saw her, Willow. She was standing in the front of her house, the full-moon behind her. Her Willow, her Willow wasn?t dead, her Willow wasn?t turned. Buffy sank to her bruised and scraped knees in relief. Her Willow glided over to the Slayer. Buffy looked up, and up.

It was like Willow?s wild red hair was flowing, like a river, into the hacker?s white dress, straining it red. Then her best friend looked down at her and smiled . . . . showing her fangs . . . .

She was too late.

?No, please no!?

*********

Buffy woke in the pre-dawn darkness of her bedroom with a gasp, she tried to breath around the sobs that were torn from her throat. Willow turned! Willow dead!

I have to stop it. A dream, it was only a dream . . . it might not be too late.

She threw off the sweat soaked sheets and blankets . . . .

TBC