by Sassette » Fri Apr 19, 2002 1:14 am
**Yuri: Heh ... yup ... it's always the middle bits. Of course, the ending I planned wasn't nearly this elaborate at the beginning of the story. Heck, I wasn't even planning on having a bad guy. These things just kind of ... happen.
Anyway, here's the next bit.
Answering Darkness 48b - Trains
Willow retrieved her bag, opening it up and pulling out the box of baking soda with shaking hands. She should have taken the shower with the magicky soap before she'd left, or put the baking soda in the water and had some. Now - now she had the black magick eyes and she didn't know how to get rid of them.
She could feel it, the power, crackling just under her skin. It would be so easy, and it was so very tempting, to just give in to it. To just let it flow through her and out of her, into the night. She could turn night into day. Or stop the train in its tracks. Or perhaps even turn it around and head back to Sunnydale.
Her laptop slid out of the bag and onto the seat, falling over the clothes she had stacked up under it.
She slid the machine onto her lap, lifting the screen and turning it on. Resting her hands on the keys, she waited as it booted up, her hands trembling lightly. She frowned at her hands, peering at them in consternation. Why couldn't she keep them still? She usually had very steady hands - had even considered a career in surgery when she was younger, but decided that cadavers were far too yucky.
Of course, that had been before demon slime became a regular occurrence.
The train lurched to a stop, and with it that line of Willow's thoughts. Where were they now? How long had she been on this train?
She checked the time on the computer, seeing that they were about an hour out of Sunnydale. It wouldn't be long, she realized, until they pulled into Union Station, and then ... then what?
Her plan had been fairly simple. Go to Angel's, get help from Wesley with the research, and either fix this thing, or talk Angel into killing her before she did any more damage.
Easy, right?
Now - now she was off-track. Her course of action had been so clear, but somewhere along the line, someone had thrown a switch, and she was traveling along a track she hadn't anticipated.
Why couldn't Tara have just let her go? If she hadn't done the spell - hadn't busted through her masking charm - Willow would know that Tara was safe at home, surrounded by family.
Where was Tara now? Did she go to the train station? Had she run into the Construct?
Spike returned with some coffee and Willow broke out of her musings, bringing up the files the Watcher's Council had sent. She was re-reading old information, but she needed to be doing something - anything - while she figured out what she should be really doing. And she had just managed to confuse herself with that thought, so she frowned, cursing her agile mind that seemed to always exist in at least three places at once.
Lifting the box of baking soda, Spike regarded Willow silently. She definitely had something kicking around inside her head - that was certain. He pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing as he considered his options, sprinkling some of the baking soda into the coffee.
"Here," he said simply. He wasn't sure he wanted to press his case any longer - he had said everything he could, and if Red hadn't listened, there probably wasn't much he could do about it. Willow, he knew, needed to come to her own conclusions. He could only hope he had introduced enough new information for that computer-brain of hers to arrive at a different conclusion.
Willow took the coffee, sipping it gingerly and wincing as pain flooded her senses, radiating outward from her stomach. She wondered idly if this is what a test tube felt like, and if so, she sincerely regretted every chemistry class she had ever taken.
"Do you really think she went all large with the butch and went off to get me?" Willow asked weakly, looking up at Spike.
"I think that the idea of losing you is far scarier to her than Hell could ever be," Spike said simply, inwardly smiling. He had her.
"Then we're getting off this train," Willow said with a nod. Before she could pick up her things, Spike had her bag in hand and her laptop carefully cradled, still open, on his arm.
"After you," he said politely, a feeling that felt very much like relief sinking in.
Willow stood, then drained her coffee, thanking poor train food service that it was only warm. Her aching arm protested the movement as she walked, getting off the train and moving into the station, Spike right behind her. As Willow made her way up to the ticket line, Spike could only shake his head.
"I don't know why we're buying tickets. I >am< a vampire. I might not be able to bite the conductor, but I could put the ol' game face on and scare him out of all good sense," Spike muttered.
"That's not nice," Willow scolded, reaching the ticket booth and buying two tickets back to Sunnydale.
"I never said I was nice," Spike shot back. "In fact, I think I've said several times that I am definitely not nice."
Willow made no comment, merely taking the tickets and moving to the waiting area. The timing, she noted with a frown, looking at the clock on the wall, wasn't nearly as convenient as the train to LA had been. It was going to be a good forty-five minutes before the next train bound for Sunnydale left the station.
Spike looked around with a scowl. Stuck in a train station just outside LA on a Saturday Night. He lit up a cigarette, ignoring the dirty looks the few people in the waiting area shot him, blithely ashing on the tiled floor. At least they weren't visiting that wanker, Angel.
"What are you looking at," he asked after a moment. Willow had reclaimed her laptop and was doing something - but whatever it was, it had to be more interesting than the interior of the train station.
"I'm reviewing," Willow said absently, reading line after line of text.
"Reviewing what?" Spike asked curiously. "Don't you remember all that? I thought you were smart," he added, unable to resist getting a little dig in.
"Of course I remember it. But I have my own subjective impressions of the data, and I want to review it in its objective form."
"Fine, you're smart," Spike said with a sigh. "Care to say that again in English?"
Willow smirked. "I'm just checking to make sure I didn't jump to any conclusions - you know, taking assumptions and considering them facts?" she said, looking up at the vampire. "I just wish I knew what was in that box," she added wistfully.
"The box with the book in it?" Spike asked.
"Huh?" Willow said, looking up at the vampire, pulling her attention away from the screen.
"Well, I was outside smoking. I can hear everything that's said in the living room from that tree out front," he said, tapping his ear lightly.
"That's kind of ... creepy," Willow said. "Do you, umm ... do that a lot?" she couldn't resist asking, even though she was pretty sure she didn't want to know the answer.
"Oh, no, never," Spike said, sounding completely unconvincing. "First time I've ever noticed, really," he added innocently.
"What do you know, Spike?" Willow asked, wishing she had a way of washing Spike's eerie stalker tendencies right out of her head. She was all in favor of the free exchange of information, but there were some things she just didn't want to know.
"Well, I got there as Giles was explaining it all. He said it was a necronomicon," Spike began, trying to remember everything they had said about those kinds of books.
"A necronomicon? Really?" Willow squeaked. "What culture?" she asked.
Spike's eyebrows raised as he looked at Willow. He remembered that everyone had offered up different explanations of the word 'necronomicon', and they had all been wrong, Giles finally correcting them. Willow had gotten it right the first time. "Gives the girl a prize," Spike muttered. "I have no idea how someone as smart as you can be so bloody stupid."
"Yes, I'm an idiot," Willow said, scowling. "Could we get back on topic? This could be important."
"It's Pictish," Spike grumbled. "Seems their culture was all about balancing good and evil, so they had some seriously bad mojo in there."
"So it's all evilly and, well, all with some more evil?" Willow asked.
"Yup. Giles was just saying something about how the book told people how to summon Glory's power when I heard you 'round the back of the house," Spike said thoughtfully, trying to remember exactly what Giles had said.
"Glory?" Willow asked weakly. And suddenly it made sense. The Beast and The Trickster hated each other - they were always at odds, each trying to oust the other from Hell. Margaret McDonald must have summoned Glory's power to keep the Trickster in Hell.
"Great," Willow muttered, her shoulders slumping. "Am I just Fated to get all freaky with the dark magicky in every lifetime?" she said on a long exhale, her face troubled. "Tapping into Glory in a past life, and tapping into the Trickster in this one - I'm thinking not such a good track record," she finished weakly. "I'm the bad guy," she added glumly, her eyes tearing up.
"Oh, please," Spike said, a disgusted look crossing his face. "You would be the worst Big Bad in all history. There's nothing evil about you."
"Oh, yeah?" Willow shot back, a stern look on her face. "I'm all ... hopped up on dark magicky stuff, and - and I tore Buffy out of Heaven, and sure I didn't know she was in Heaven at the time, but still! I'm a bad, bad person. And I erased Tara's memories, and that was really, >really< bad, especially after all the stuff with Glory, and - and it's like I'm ... I'm just no better than her stupid mean family, because I'm all stupid and mean-like, too, and -"
"Stop it before I have to slap you," Spike broke in, covering her mouth with one cold hand. "Listen to me," he said intently, looking her in the eye, wondering how he managed to get himself into these conversations. "You got out of hand, but you've never done anything with truly malicious intent. You were blind, not evil. Believe me, there's a difference."
Spike looked into Willow's wide-eyed gaze for a moment, then gingerly started to move his hand.
"But I -" Willow started, only to stop when Spike's hand quickly moved to cover her mouth.
"No sodding 'buts'," Spike growled. "Just nod your head like you understand me, then shut up. Got it?"
Willow nodded, then gasped as two hands entered her field of vision, lifting Spike out of his chair and tossing him into the wall across the way.
"Stay away from her," a low, tight voice said.
"Angel?" Willow gasped, looking up at the vampire, her mind spinning. What was Angel doing here?
"Angel! Bloody Hell," Spike said, getting to his feet and charging, his fist connecting with Angel's face with a satisfying crack.
With a grunt of surprise, Angel's head whipped back around, and he picked Spike up by his coat, tossing him back again.
"I can do this all night, Spike," Angel snarled.
Angel stepped in front of Willow, keeping his eyes on the blond vampire. "Wesley? Gunn?" he said.
"Right here, boss," Gunn said, stepping up. "You want me to stake this guy?"
"The room is cleared," Wesley said, coming around. Once Angel had moved into position and thrown Spike, he had quickly gotten the other people in the station out, telling them that Angel was a police officer, and that Spike was a dangerous criminal. They had been surprisingly complacent, running out quickly. Or maybe not so surprising, since Angel had thrown Spike into a wall twice.
"Angel?" Willow asked again, gaping at him. What was Angel doing here? She shook her head briefly. She'd already wondered that. But she hadn't answered herself. What >was< Angel doing here?
"It's all right, Willow," Angel said, his weight forward on the balls of his feet.
"It was already all right," Spike spat in disgust. "I'd like nothing better than to rip you into tiny little pieces, you sodding blighter."
"Bring it," Angel said shortly, his visage twisting into his game face.
"Umm ... Angel? It's really, umm ... okay," Willow said weakly, reaching out and tugging on his coat.
"Obviously I'm not wanted here. How about I just go?" Spike said casually, realizing that the odds of three to one were not in his favor. He looked at Wesley, then silently amended that thought. Two and a half to one.
"You're not going anywhere," Angel said, looking around cautiously. Spike probably had something up his sleeve.
"Ummmm ... Angel?" Willow tried again. "He can't bite people."
"What?" Angel said, his face returning to normal as he turned his head to look at Willow.
Spike sprang forward as soon as Angel's head was turned, cracking him in the face again, then jumping back, a wide smile on his face.
"Maybe not, but I can take a crack at that nancy boy as much as I want," he said with a smirk. "Come on, Angel. Why don't you just come on over here, and we'll see who the Big Bad is."
"You sure you don't want me to just stake this guy?" Gunn asked, looking askance at Angel.
Angel lifted a hand to his face, frowning as he gingerly probed the cut on his lip.
"That's it," Angel said, walking up to Spike and landing a fist to his gut.
Spike doubled over, then shifted forward, driving his shoulder into Angel's stomach, wrapping his arms around him and lifting him into the air. Setting his legs, he pushed off, throwing Angel back.
"Stop it!" Willow said, jumping to her feet and moving to stand between the two vampires who glared at each other menacingly, their demonic faces making Willow wonder what the frilly heck she was doing. "You're both behaving like children," Willow said, glaring at the vampires.
"He abducted you," Angel protested, pointing at Spike accusingly.
"Abducted her?" Spike shot back disbelievingly. "What in the world would I abduct Red for?"
"I don't know - maybe because you're evil?" Angel retorted.
"Oh, I see," Spike said. "Blame the evil vampire. I ask you, is that fair? Just point all the fingers you want. Fact is, >she< bloody well abducted >me<."
"She abducted you?" Gunn asked, looking back and forth between the large vampire and the small redhead. He managed to keep a straight face until he looked over at Wesley, then they both started snickering.
"Angel, what are you doing here?" Willow finally asked, then realized how that sounded. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, because boy am I ever! Glad to see you, that is, just ... 'cuz, everything's kind of ... all crazy whacky right now, and it's just ... good to see you," she finished lamely.
Angel almost smiled at the familiarity of Willow's rambling. He'd actually missed her, though in a way, with Fred around, it was like having an extra Willow. He couldn't help but wonder if they had been separated at birth.
"You all right?" he asked gently, looking Willow over and gesturing at Spike. "He didn't hurt you?"
"No, I'm fine. He has a chip in his head that won't let him hurt people," Willow explained.
"I'd heard something about that," Angel said with a nod and a grim look on his face. "But when I saw him with his hand over your mouth, and you looked kind of scared, I figured ..."
"Oh, fine," Spike said, throwing his hands up in the air and rolling his eyes. "Why don't you just tell everyone? Why not climb up to the roof and shout it to the world? Poor Spike! A mean evil vampire who can't bloody well bite people?"
"So, umm ... what are you doing here?" Willow asked again, ignoring Spike.
"I got a phone call," Angel explained. "Your friend Anya?"
"Anya called?" Willow asked, her eyes widening and her shoulders slumping in relief. "See?" she said, turning to Spike. "I told you they didn't do anything all stupid and heroic. They just went home, called Angel, and I bet they're waiting there right now to see if he found me."
Spike shook his head and sighed. If Tara was all right, there was no way Willow was going back to Sunnydale. Of course, there was nothing keeping >him< here. Now that Angel was there, he'd let the other vampire play White Knight, and get back to Buffy. He smirked, thinking of the 'vampire with a soul' and an amnesiac Buffy's reaction to the concept. Lame, indeed.
"Ummm, not quite," Wesley cut in. "It would seem that Anya called from her cellular phone. She and the others are at the Hellmouth."
"They're at the Hellmouth?" Willow asked, her jaw dropping. "What are they doing at the Hellmouth? That's a bad place - Evil, even. It's all ... bad ... and evil... and Hellmouthy. No, no Hellmouth. That's like next door to Hell," she went on, shaking her head vehemently. "And there will be no Scoobies in Hell. Scoobies in Hell is not allowed. It's in the contract - their Scooby status will be revoked!"
"They thought the Construct had you," Angel said simply. "Buffy and the others went to Hellmouth, but they didn't see any sign of you. They fought off some vampires, and then they called me. We've been stopping and checking every train from here to LA."
"So they went home, right?" Willow asked weakly. "They realized I wasn't there so they went home?"
"I'm afraid not," Wesley said slowly. "It seems that your girlfriend somehow managed to walk through the Hellmouth. She went after you."
"But ... she can't!" Willow protested, her eyes flying open and her face paling. Spike and Angel both moved forward to catch her as she wobbled, then Spike took a step back. He'd let Angel do it. No sense in being helpful when he didn't have to be.
"Yes, well, everyone seemed to be under the impression that she didn't have the necessary power to get through the Hellmouth, but clearly ..."
"No, you don't understand. She promised! No Hell-Walking. We decided - neither one of use was allowed to just go 'la la ... walking through Hell now'!" Willow said, leaning heavily against Angel.
"Yo - we going to stand here and chat, or are we going to go see this famous Hellmouth of yours?" Gunn asked. "Sounds to me like an ass-kicking is in order."
"Well, with Willow being the reincarnation of the witch who defeated the Trickster, there's really no way we can safely take her anywhere near the Hellmouth," Wesley said uneasily.
Willow found the words returned the strength to her head, and she stood up, whirling on the ex-Watcher. "You think I'm going to just sit around here when Tara's in Hell?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
"All I'm saying is, that it would be best to wait," he said, holding his hands up. "If the Trickster can be defeated some other way ..." he went on, trailing off as Willow's eyes darkened. He had trouble reconciling this dangerous-looking woman with the young girl he had known back in Sunnydale.
"Hey, man?" Gunn said slowly, looking over at Spike. "The part where she abducted you? Not so funny anymore."
"See?" Spike said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up, hoping that Willow would just lose it and fry Wesley. "She's downright scary, isn't she?"
"Willow," Angel said softly, moving up behind the redhead. "Please, if we're going to help Tara, we need to stay calm."
Angel's words trickled into Willow's consciousness, and she took a few slow, deep breaths.
"How?" she asked, turning around and looking up at Angel, her eyes lost and scared. "How can I help her? Please ... please tell me you have a plan."
"We don't know yet," Wesley said gently. "But once Angel actually described the situation, I recognized it immediately. I did a paper on the truth behind legends when I was at University studying to become a Watcher. It dealt with how stories that are dismissed as fantasy today are just distorted bits of a darker truth."
"And?" Willow asked, turning again and feeling a little dizzy.
"Here, I had an old friend at the Council fax me a copy. It dealt heavily with the destruction of the stone circle on Mull. It fits Angel's recollections perfectly," Wesley said, handing over a thick bound sheaf of papers.
Willow took it gingerly, opening the cover and seeing the title page. She almost snorted at the stuffy title Wesley had given his work. The table of contents was next, and she skimmed over it briefly, a few words catching her eye.
"Wesley, what does this mean?" she asked shakily, her eyes fixated on two words that seemed to leap off the page at her.
"Oh, that," Wesley said. "That's the legendary demon of the area," he said. "They stories seem to overlap ..." he began to explain, then trailed off, looking at Willow closely. "Are you all right?"
"We're going back to Sunnydale. Now," Willow said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"We can't do that," Wesley said again. "You could throw the whole world out of balance."
"I don't want to have to repeat myself," Willow said angrily. She turned to Angel. "We're going. If you don't want to drive me, the go back to LA. I'll take the train. If any of you try to stop me, I'll hurt you. We clear?"
Angel looked at her closely. This wasn't the face of a woman who would foolishly endanger the world. She knew something. He didn't care what he had heard - he trusted Willow.
"Let's go," he said.
*swoon...thud!* I'll start collecting panties now!
Hello? Vampire? I think with recent events on the show, there have been many efforts to see Spike's softer, more human side. What I really liked about your characterisation is that he knows he can do good things; he's just not totally comfortable with it unless he can rationalise it away. And that, I think, is a part of his character that's been sadly misportrayed on the show. He's not weak, he's not good, he's a git who is capable of doing good things as long as he can justify them to himself in the context of his "evilness". And that's why your fic is so excellent. Truly, it stands out as one of the finest and most well crafted stories I've read. Ever. Fanfic aside. 
at: 4/19/02 7:17:34 pm