Title: White Screams
Author: watson (hiddenwatson [at] yahoo [dot] com)
Distribution: Please let me know first
Rating: R
Disclaimer: BtVS characters, concepts and dialog belong to Mutant Enemy, Fox, The WB, UPN and others.
Summary: Contemporary AU. Who are we? Who can we trust when we can't even trust ourselves?
Notes 1: written for nanowrimo 2008 -- since it was written quickly with little time for extensive research, I have taken liberties with some of the factual and scientific stuff. I could have completed the research in the editing process, but I thought it might be fun to show some of the rawness of the writing under time pressure. Plus, well, I'm lazy.
Notes 2: this story is influenced by the psychological thriller Unknown. The chronology is not completely linear, I hope it doesn't become too confusing.
Part 19 -- The Fog Clears
Present day, abandoned warehouse, now
"What the hell? What the hell, Tara?"
She staggered and pushed away from me, falling against the opposite wall for support.
The fog in my mind was gradually clearing. And the enormity of what I had done crashed upon me like a giant sledgehammer of truth. The guilt and anguish I had kept hidden were unleashed with no barriers, and were suffocating me. I couldn't breath. Stars and light beams raged out of control, dancing, mocking in front of my eyes.
"Oh my god," I gasped. "What have I done?"
Willow was doing no better. From the relative distance of the wall opposite, she glared at me, a mixture of disbelief and accusation in her eyes. "What did you do to us?" she asked seriously.
Thoughts, feelings, memories were slamming back into my head like a shipwreck out of control, I was having a hard time processing it all. "No, no, no. It's some form of chemical poisoning, must be from the gas escaping from that cylinder. When you were fighting, the gunshot, it must have hit the cylinder. I didn't cause this, I didn't take our memories and made us all crazy," I said, more to myself.
"Never mind the gas, what the hell happened before that?" she asked again, more harshly. "Last thing I remember is driving Dawn home from her practice session. Buffy needed to take Joyce to pick up some artifacts and official letters of authenticity from the gallery so I offered to take Dawn. We were going to stop by the ice cream place on our way and pick up strawberry shakes. And then I got to the hills and there was this car in the middle of the road so I had to drive around it. There was a dip in the shoulder so I had to almost come to a complete stop. And then someone broke the window and attacked us. Two guys in ski masks. I fought one off, but hit my head and must have lost consciousness. What are you doing here?" she demanded. "Oh god," she gasped as she remembered. "You! You're one of them! You walked in just as I was trying to get the gun away from the guy. Right before the gun went off! Who are you?" She edged away from me as her recollection of events returned in further detail.
I could only look down at the floor, not able to meet her eyes. The reality was, I engineered an act that was against everything that she stood for, that caused distress to her friends, and put Dawn in mortal danger. And because of coincidental circumstances, she was caught up in it personally, and even got hurt because of it. It was also unethical and illegal. No matter that my intentions were honorable, to give my mother a fighting chance of surviving terminal cancer, kidnapping was going too far. If I were Willow, I'd never forgive me. I didn't blame her for looking at me like she didn't know me, even though she didn't know every detail -- she was smart enough to figure out most of it, I could see the wheels of her mind turning and disgusted at finally seeing my darkness.
"I should explain, I owe you an explanation, but I don't think it will help," I said, my voice tinged with regret.
"No, I don't think so," she said, turning away from me. After a bit, she reconsidered. "Tell me this, was Dawn the target? Why her? And what was my part in this?"
I took a deep breath. It was difficult to speak, I was still having difficulty breathing and the lump in my throat was so huge I felt like I was choking up. "Yes, Dawn was the target. Well, not the original target for me, but when Warren found out..." I stopped to recollect my confrontation with Warren. "I know I have no excuse, but you have to believe me, I didn't mean for this to happen."
"And what exactly is," she paused. "This."
I sighed. "In cop speak, assault, kidnapping, false imprisonment, reckless endangerment. Among others," I recited.
"You haven't explained my part in the scheme and why I ended up tied up like a turkey in that big room," she said coldly.
"You don't. I mean, you don't come into it. We were supposed to only grab Dawn. I don't know exactly what happened on the road, I was trying to move the car. Then we got here and those two boys outside had you in the van together with Dawn. It's 40 minutes back into town and I couldn't just abandon you in the heat outside in the desert. I couldn't tell the boys I know you, because they'll ask. They don't know you're a cop. I tried to think of some way to solve the issue, then we all got gassed," I said.
Too many words. She had too many words for me. But she kept it simple. "Why?" she asked in anguish.
She wasn't asking why I didn't find the solution. Or why a kidnapping. She wanted to know what changed me. What made me turn into, in her eyes, an unacceptable species of human being.
"Long story. I don't want to you feel like you need to be sympathetic," I said.
"I don't think it's possible at this point," she said tersely.
I tried to explain about Mom's illness, the procedure in Switzerland, my initial plan to grab Warren's daughter, his discovery and how he blackmailed me into this scheme with Dawn as the victim. I kept it short and factual, not wanting to elicit her pity. I knew I would be lucky to get even her acceptance.
She was quiet for a long time after I finished. She opened and closed her mouth, starting to say something, but didn't while she thought of what she wanted to say. I waited, immobile, filled with shame.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked eventually.
"Which part?" I supposed I should count my blessings that she was still talking to me, still engaging with me.
"All of it, any of it. For starters how seriously ill your mother is, and about the treatment in Europe. I was there in hospital, I was right there. It was that day, wasn't it? When I visited. You found out about the treatment that day?" There was so much hurt in her voice.
"Yes," I said in a small voice. "I found out that morning."
"And you said nothing to me. You let me joke with your mother, giving her encouragement, convincing myself that she will be better soon. And you sit there not letting anyone help you? What does one need to do to get you to let them in a little?" Her voice was accusatory, harsh, uncomprehending.
"I hadn't told mom then, or anyone else. I wasn't going to tell anyone without telling her first. Besides, if I recall correctly, we had a fight in the cafeteria," I pointed out, perhaps unwisely arguing with her.
"I saw you when your mom was released from of hospital. Have you told her by then?" she countered.
I nodded as I dabbed at the tears at my eyes with my sleeves. "I wanted to tell you, it was at the tip of my tongue a few times. But I couldn't. I couldn't open myself up so much to you, it would have made me too vulnerable," I explained.
"I want to be in your life, Tara. I thought I made it clear over the last 3 years. I think what we did just now here in the bathroom, when we were not ourselves, without the complicated history between us, shows how we can. Shows how much we want each other," her voice lowered to a tense whisper. "But it's obvious you don't care even for my friendship. Or anything."
There was very little I could say. I wanted to fall on my knees and beg her. There were so many things I wanted from her. Her understanding. Her forgiveness. I wanted to tell her how hard it was to keep her at arm's length all these years, when all I wanted to do was smash my lips against hers, mold my body into hers and feel her inside me all the time. I now realized I had my priorities wrong. That it could have been possible to have a relationship with her and still deal with the other things in my life. That with her by my side the shock of Donny's death, Mom's illness, my lack of future, our debt situation, and all the bad things in my life, could have been more hopeful. That even as I kept pushing her away, I had come to rely on her being around. It was a convoluted kind of selfishness. I wanted her to keep coming to me so I could push her away. How large an ego was that?
"No, Will. I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything. If I can undo every time I hurt you or pushed you away, I'd do it now right away. I've been so unfair to you, you've been so patient with me. I do want you. How can I fix things?" I pleaded.
"Well, for starters, I need to trust you. That you're going to work with me and not betray me to the kidnappers. You'll turn yourself in, and I'll do everything I can to put in a good word for you with the DA. I don't care about your pact with Warren Meers. I'm getting Dawn out of here with or without your help. After she is safe and Buffy has chosen how to deal with you, then you and I will talk. We may not have a future because what you did is really too hideous, and it's up to you to fix that between us," she said, a chilling authority in her voice.
"Yes," I said meekly. "Yes, of course. Anything you say. I'll do anything you tell me to."
She took a deep breath. "Right, then we focus on Dawn. If even one hair gets out of place, you're going to regret it."
And then we both realized where Dawn was. Alone in the office. So vulnerable. So close to the boys.
"Dawn!" We both shouted at the same time.
There were no regards for our deep insurmountable differences. We ran as one towards Dawn.
*****
We found the boys in the act of subduing her and tying her to a chair.
"What the HELL do you think you are doing?" I screamed at the top of my lungs.
Willow simply took three steps into the room, shoved Andrew away from Dawn and took the hysterical girl in her arms. "Dawn, Dawnie, do you remember? How is your head?" she was asking and trying to ascertain Dawn's condition.
"Willow? I'm so scared," the young girl said between brawling.
"Get those two out of here. Now," Willow ordered. "Into the storage room. I'll be there in a minute."
I turned to Jonathan and Andrew. "Let's go." At their startled looks and before they could argue, "don't argue with me. We're all in this mess together. Leave the girl alone and do as Willow says," I said assertively.
"Since when did she gets to call the shots?" Jonathan questioned petulantly.
I fixed him a hard stare. "Since I say so," I said. I literally stood behind them and shoved them out of the office. I could tell they were not happy, but I was taking advantage of everyone's still confused state, hoping to reassert my authority over them. What would happen next was absolutely critical.
I made sure they entered the storage room first, fixing myself a position between them and the doorway. Jonathan stormed inside, stomping over to the upturned chairs that we used earlier to secure our captives. I flinched as he kicked one of the chairs very hard so it flew across the room, one of its legs broke off under the assault. I studied Jonathan carefully. He was mad, and unpredictable. He was always the more dangerous one, with more potential than Andrew to get angry and impulsive. I hadn't had much chance to think about it, it was the first time I noticed his stature. Or lack of it. He was short, very short. That, unfortunately, was his only distinguishing feature. I suppose his height had defined him all his life. I wonder how it would feel in his teenage years when all his compatriots were growing and shooting up, and he remained the same height as he was pre-puberty. It would account for the insecurity and inferior complex. It would also account for his anger and propensity to not think before acting. He wanted so much to prove to the world he was beyond just a short guy, that he had power, strength, presence. It wouldn't surprise me if he often acted out his anger, taking it out on weaker people and objects. He was the sort of person who would be very dangerous if in possession of power, which he had now. I hadn't forgotten that he had a gun, I had no doubt that he wouldn't think twice about using it if he thought he was under threat. He was self-centered enough to think of only himself in this regard. I had to be careful and not reveal my hand, that I too was armed, until the appropriate time.
Andrew on the other hand, was meek. That was my first impression of him when I met him for the first time, and the impression hadn't changed. He didn't have the physical disadvantages of his friend. He was average height, average weight, with dirty blonde hair and a face that can be mildly pleasant. He could be a computer programmer, or a sales person at an electronics store. I wondered what caused him to turn to the dark side, a phrase he used liberally. There was no love lost between him and Jonathan, the constant bickering reminiscent of couplehood but I didn't get such vibe from them. His hero worship and crush on Warren was obvious though. It was what Warren had to hold onto him, I would guess. The perfect fall guy. I would use Andrew in the same role. The nice, naïve guy who blindly believed in me, who I could easily manipulate. So easy to set him up as the front man and so easy for him to be the one taking all the rap should anything happen.
While Jonathan continued his rant against the furniture, Andrew merely sat slumped on one of the many crates that littered the storage room. He rubbed his hands across his eyes in defeat. "What next?" he directed at me.
I shrugged. "Let's wait for Willow," I answered.
"What's with the chumminess with...Willow, is that her name? She one of us now?" Jonathan questioned.
"Things have changed," I said.
"Tell me about it," Andrew muttered.
"I still don't see--" Jonathan protested again.
I stopped him sharply. "I don't care what you see, we have to figure a way to get out of here," I said.
"So we do as planned. We still have the girl. When Warren comes back with the money, we split it up like we were promised, then the girl gets released. We can fix things up the same way as before, what's wrong with the plan," he said.
"And how do you plan to explain about Willow?" I asked plainly. "Did you think about it when you so wisely decide to bring her along for the ride? Warren won't like it. And I'll make sure he knows that. Then you'll have some fast talking to do."
He didn't care. "Who says we need to explain? We hide her somewhere out of the way, pretend she isn't here," he said.
"And then? It's not so simple. You forget both of them have seen our faces. I don't know about you guys, but my cut isn't big enough for me to split and go to another country," Andrew interjected.
"We get rid of the redhead, and scare the fuck out of the girl," Jonathan said.
"Get rid. Get rid how," I asked, though I suspected I knew his solution. My heart sank.
As if to confirm my suspicion, Jonathan took out his gun. "Simple," he said coldly.
"Killing me is one thing, do you propose to kill the girl too? You can't scare her forever, she has seen you and you'll be looking over your shoulders all your life," Willow said quietly from the doorway. My first reaction to run to her was abruptly halted by the realization that she probably wouldn't want to be associated with me at that point.
Jonathan turned and raised his gun at her. "I'll deal with it one at a time. I'll still kill you first," he sneered.
She was so calm under pressure. Her eyes never left his gun as she moved closer. "Use your brain, brain trust. There are too many unknowns. You can't kill Dawn before your accomplice returns. The cops will be all over you. Your leader will be back soon. What are you going to do with my body? Can you really trust these two," she indicated Andrew and me, "to go along with it? Kidnapping is one thing, but most people don't go as far as murder."
"I don't care. Everyone does as I say. I'm the one with the power, I'm the one with the gun here," his voice raised and he started waving his gun around wildly.
Willow saw my hand edge toward the small of my back where I had my gun hidden. She stopped me with an imperceptible shake of the head. We still had our differences and so much to work through, if only. But our communication had never faltered.
She sighed loudly. "Okay, okay. You're the one with the power. You're the one with the all-powerful gun. But let's think about this in a rational way. You can do rational, can't you?" she asked.
Jonathan was still blubbering and not ready to stand down. It was Andrew who stood up. "Jonathan, she has a point. We're in more shit than we can deal with," he pleaded. "Put the gun down and listen to her."
"No."
"Oh for crying out loud, Jonathan," I exclaimed exasperatedly.
"Keep the gun if it makes you so macho, Shorty," Willow said. "Just answer me this, how much do you fear this leader of yours?" she looked around the three of us.
Andrew visibly gulped. Jonathan tried to look defiant but I could see the trepidation in his eyes.
I gave my answer first. "He blackmailed me. I did something that was, could have been, bad. For him and for me. He found out and used it against me. That's how he got me to participate in this scheme. He is a powerful individual in the community, and he's brutal and calculating. I take his threat seriously," I said.
"He promised me lots of money and I can work for him in the quality control department. It's in the same building as him," Andrew said sheepishly. Giant crush, oh yes.
Jonathan shrugged. Not wanting to reveal his reasons.
"Let me ask again in a different way. What do you guys think this Warren will do when he finds out about this litany of cock ups after cock ups?" Willow asked. "It's Warren Meers, right? Even I have heard of his name."
Jonathan bluffed. "What cock ups? Nothing we can't cover up," he bluffed.
Willow started counting on her fingers. "You kidnapped one additional person. You allowed your face to be seen by your victims. You are busy fighting each other. Is that enough?"
"So what's your suggestion?" I asked.
Willow continued as if she had not heard me. "Let's say you manage to kill me and dispose of my body in an hour. And let's say you manage to tie Dawn up like before and convince her never to reveal that she's seen you. Let's say Warren comes back here with the money and you divide it up. Everything goes according to plan." She paused for dramatic effect. "How do you make sure the other two won't rat you out one of these days? Do you have enough of a bond to trust each other forever? I'm thinking not," she said.
She had a point. I could see how she worked mistrust and fear and doubt into the minds of the unsuspecting. I remembered how good she was at her job. The boys didn't know her true genius.
There was a lengthy silence. None of us knew what to say, the seeds of doubt were certainly growing thick in our minds. For myself, I knew I was done with the situation. I had to find another way to help my mother. I had done enough to jeopardize her already, by being reckless and unthinking. I already decided to turn myself in, to ask Willow to take me back to the station, for my part in the crime. I would have to deal with the consequences. It pained me to know that it wouldn't help my mother, that my actions did worse than if I had done nothing. Perhaps I could gain some of Willow's trust back, I wasn't hoping for much of that to happen.
But now we had to work together to get a satisfactory ending to this dire situation.
"I don't get it. What are you driving at?" Andrew asked at length.
Willow paced as she explained. Jonathan kept his gun trained on her, but she took no notice of it.
"We work together to get out of here. Start a new life. It's not worth trying to second guess Warren or continue with the case. By letting us go, or actually even helping us to escape, you've exonerated yourselves. You don't get the benefit of the random money, and I will forget about your assault on me. Dawn will chalk it off as a bad experience. If neither of us press charges there is nothing against you. Warren, on the other hand, is left holding the money but the police can trace that. I, um, know people in the police and they can trace money. He won't get away with it. This is your best course of action, believe me," she said.
It was a hard sell, to Jonathan especially.
"I just want to get out of here," I said.
"But what about Warren? He'll come after us," Andrew said.
"Not if we make it convincing. Any of you ever acted in a play before?" Willow asked cheekily.
It took some further convincing but the threat of reprisals were too great. We were all able to come to a compromise after some heated debating.
We were setting the scene back to normal. Willow went to Dawn and explained the situation to her. She was very reluctant to be bound again but Willow did the tying herself and left the bonds loose. She reassured Dawn that she knew what she was doing and would explain in detail when they got out.
"Promise?" Dawn asked.
"I promise," Willow said. looking around to check the boys were out of earshot she continued, "I'm sure Buffy is on her way. I can't see her not being involved in this."
Dawn visibly relaxed and even managed a small smile at the mention of her sister.
Time to wait.
We were so keyed up, we all jumped when the phone rang again.
*****
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