It's been a strange few days - although at least there hasn't been any mind-numbing terror, so I guess that's a start.
I took Buffy up on her offer of a place to crash. At the moment I'm sleeping on the sofa. I get a lot of neck cricks, but the knowledge that someone who can wield weapons is in the house is a pretty comforting thought. Of course, I've been trained to handle weapons. A little, anyway. But let's just say that co-ordination is not my middle name. Sometimes I wonder if the whole potential slayer thing is a mistake... But deep down I know it's not, no matter how much I wish it wasn't true.
Buffy looked really down. After a while I found out that her old watcher had probably died. How terrible. I sympathised, having experienced the same thing myself, but I wasn't sure how to tell her. So I just stayed quiet and out of the way as much as possible. Wasn't too hard. Everyone seemed pretty busy. Buffy said she'd think about helping me and Rhia with training, but that hasn't happened yet. I guess she has a lot on her mind.
Such as someone called Spike. Faith came back and said she'd seen Spike and he'd acted "wicked strange". I wasn't meant to overhear, I don't think - particularly since Faith went on to report that a whole bunch of nuns had been murdered - but that's one of the useful things about being quiet and shy. You can melt into the background and find out about stuff. None of it comforting. First, what sort of name is Spike? And what the hell is going on? Is nun-murdering par for the course in Sunnydale, or is this a sign of something worse than usual? I don't know.
Things haven't been all bad, though. I went along to Sunnydale High - it's a really nice brand new building - and registered there. Having school to go to makes me feel more focused. Like I have purpose. Obviously, I had to lie about why I'd moved here, but the school asked surprisingly few questions. I get the impression that Sunnydale schools are used to people joining... and leaving. There are about ten "missing" posters in the hallways already. Great. I'll just try to stay out of people's way, do my homework, and be back at Buffy's before dark. I know, I lead a glamorous life.
Still, at least everyone I've met so far has been nice. Xander in particular. He's gone out of his way to make us feel welcome, which is pretty generous of him, I think. You don't expect a guy to bother with sixteen year olds and care that they're doing ok. But he's been really nice to Rhia and me. And he's quite nice looking, though I guess that shouldn't matter. He's probably too old for me anyway.
I should have known. I should have known something was up when he didn't check in but... I've been so preoccupied with Spike a-and Dawn and the Hellmouth, I--
I got a phone call this morning. From England. When the weird-sounding lady asked if I'd accept the charges, I was so relieved. I thought that finally he was contacting us, telling us that he knew what was going on and that all these dead girls were-- That it would stop. That we could stop it because that's what we did or do or...
The Watcher's Council got blown up two weeks ago. A few survived but everyone in the building-- Giles was staying there. Trying to figure out what was happening. The guy on the phone told me he was sorry for my loss, that they found something of his there and there's little hope that he survived.
I don't... I have no idea how to do this. I don't know that I can tell Dawn again or Will or Xander. And the girls. They're looking for me to lead them, to help them not die and this-- This thing that's coming has eliminated our best chance of beating it.
How do I do it? How do I tell them all? How do I face whatever's coming when I know that the man who was more like my father than my own is gone?
Something was happening here. And everywhere. The watchers and the "potential" slayers that had been found were being murdered. Murdered. Too tame a term. Butchered, systematically. I've got to get back to Buffy, but I need more information.
I knocked on Robson's door, knowing he had a potential himself. As I knock, the door creaked open. I could see blood. And smell it, that's how much was laying about. The potential was dead, I knew without checking, but Robson. I rushed over, and knelt down.
"It'll be okay, just hang on, I'll get help." He clutched at my hand, and gurgled "It's started". I started to ask him what, when the floor creaked behind me. I turned quickly enough to drive my own dagger quickly into the heart of the murderer. He'd come about a hairs length of taking my head.
I called the aid car, though he was passed out at this time, and waited for them to arrive. While they were saving him, I was able to slip out the door. They'd have questions, and I didn't have the answers. Plus, there were things to do and places to be.
At home, I got the files together I'd "appropriated" from the Council. Names of other girls, plus I had the coven working to find more once I heard the killing was on. Information about the evil, and the same words appeared again, and again "From beneith you it devours".
I had to save as many girls' as I could. They needed to be taken to the safest place possible. Sunnydale.
I didn't have time to sleep, I had to go.
On my way to the first stop, an explosion rocked London. And just like that, the watchers council was no more.
Work seems to be my life at the moment. The new highschool isn't quite finished, so it's a constant source of work. And I do enjoy being the supervisor. Xander in charge, who'd have thought?
But there is still the worries. Something is coming, and it's something bad. And I don't mean Faith, she's already here. We haven't heard anything from Giles for weeks, and to me, that seems strange. He checked in at least once a week. And he said Willow had to come home, but that she wasn't done.
What's that about? I mean, I love Willow and I trust her completely, but part that involves just a little worry. After all, she's been my best friend forever. And I don't want to lose that.
Buffy's been acting just a little odd. She won't say why though. It's worrisome. But then again, would it be life in Sunnydale without worry? Not a chance.
Time to head back to the house, and see what's up.
Considering this had been the worst two weeks like, ever, today was going surprisingly well. Although Rhia was really rich and maybe kind of snobby, I was really pleased I'd met her. It felt nice to have someone around who really understood how scary it was to have people try to kill you. I mean, Faith understood, but considering she had super strength it didn't bother her so much, I would think.
So after having had quite a good night's sleep, Rhia and I went out to breakfast. Another good thing about Rhia? She paid for our food. I swear I have not eaten so much food in months. Normally I just like cornflakes for breakfast, but since all I'd eaten for two weeks seemed to be Twinkies and MacDonald's, I was really happy to eat a big plateful of bacon and pancakes. I'll have some vegetables later, I promise.
We thought we should go over and see Buffy, but then I pointed out that when I'd arrived yesterday, I'd been too early, so probably trying to see her at 9 am wasn't that great a plan. I mean, she probably has a job. I decided to stop by the high school. Quite a nice place. Brand new, I think, and with great facilities. I went to the office to ask about what I'd need to register. Details of my old school, apparently, a parent or guardian's signature on the enrolment form, and a permanent address. That last part could be tricky. I can forge a signature, but I can't give my address as Hotel Sunnydale. I don't expect Buffy to offer me somewhere to live, and although Rhia's been really hospitable, I can hardly expect her to rent a house with me. Maybe I should give up on the idea of graduating this year. I don't know. It's hard. Everything is hard right now.
Rhia looked quite bored as we looked around the school. I'm sure her old alma mater was really posh and old. Course, it could also be because she's with me, and I was wearing a hideous Welcome to Sunnydale T-shirt I'd bought in a gift shop for $5, because my clothes are filthy from two weeks on the road. I look like a big touristy dork, whilst she looks really pretty and classy. She's the kind of girl you can't help looking at, you know? But I don't know why I'm thinking about that.
Later on in the day we decided to head over to Buffy's house. "Well, if they thought it was weird yesterday when I showed up, imagine what they'll think when I bring you," I said to Rhia. "It's like I'm reproducing." I laughed dorkily. Yeah, I'm so cool.
((Open to anyone at the Summers house, plus Rhia of course))
After Buffy left, I felt calmer. I understood that she had to go. A lot going on, I reckon. Can sense it in her. And I can sense it around me. Things rising.
From beneath you it devours.
But those words don't clang such a death toll in the pit of me now. No; I feel stronger. I wept weakly and cravenly and she was there, and I felt... stronger. More like me. Not all the way yet. Got a long road to travel, but... She gives me strength. She told me she saw me, and she didn't run away. What can frighten me truly when there are words like that?
I looked around my ruined crypt. All burned down. I understood why I did it, though I perhaps should've had some foresight and worked out a new home for myself before I went and burned the ruddy place down. Not that it'd be the worst place I'd ever slept in. Still, it might be time for me to think about pitching up somewhere else. It'd do for tonight. The roof was made of stone, after all, so that hadn't come down. I wouldn't burst into flames. Tomorrow night, though, I'd have to think. It was sort of nice to be thinking about making plans instead of just... feeling.
I went out into the night. Walked for a long time. I can still feel the spark in me. Sort of like having a heartbeat. I wish my heart beat. It'd just be nice to have that thump keeping me company in the dark. It's strange to have a body so silent, I think. Never really thought much about it before. But then, I've thought about a lot of new things in the last few months.
I walked to the outskirt of town when I smelt it. Blood on the air. Blood mingled with the smell of magnolia blossoms. The blooms glowed under the moonlight, poking through the gate of a Mission. I pushed it open and stepped inside.
Bodies. Everywhere. Some were old women, others barely more than girls. Their habits were stained with blood. My hunger rose, and I hated myself for it. I stared at their bodies for a long time.
((Open - to someone on patrol/Caleb/anyone who can possibly be in the area!))
I open my eyes blearily. Thin light is coming between a gap in the curtains. I feel bewildered for a minute. Where am I? The fog of sleep clears a little and I remember. Buffy, Rhia, the hotel. Sunnydale. Yeah.
I crawl off the bed. I feel really stiff. I glance over and see that Rhia is asleep on her bed, the sheets pulled over her. I'm still wearing my clothes. I roll my shoulders and wonder why I'm so stiff. Surely I've just had a nap?
I walk over to the window and look out. It's pretty bright outside. We have a beautiful view of the car park, which I guess at least means Rhia can keep an eye on her car. But wait - it's too bright. I met Rhia in the late afternoon.
I look up at the clock. It says 6, but now I'm thinking that it's six in the morning, not six at night. I've been asleep for about thirteen hours. No wonder I'm stiff.
My stomach rumbles, confirming my thoughts. I think the last thing I had to eat was yesterday morning. I open the mini bar and find a bag of M&Ms and a Mars Bar. I tear open the M&Ms and pretty much pour them into my mouth. Nothing has tasted this good in months.
I take the Mars Bar and go into the bathroom. It's pretty large, with a huge bath. I close the door and take off my clothes, which are, frankly, kind of gross now, because I've been wearing them for two days straight.
I turn the bath taps on and watch the water flow into the tub. There's a bottle of bubble bath on the side. Magnolia Spring, it's called, and whilst it doesn't smell all that much like magnolias it is kind of sweet and pretty. I decide to pour half the bottle in. The hotel will restock it.
I climb into the water, which I've kept just on the comfortable side of hot. It feels wonderful to be in a bath. I love baths. Geoffrey would always tell me off for using up all the hot water because I'd soak in the bath so long. This last fortnight, if I've been able to wash at all, it's been in motel showers which drip rather than spray, with only a bar of soap to wash myself and my hair. This hotel has freebie shampoos and things on the side, thank God. I can wash my hair thoroughly, I realise with some excitement. And then it hits me - I'm excited because I have shampoo, and I'm sitting in a strange bathroom in a strange town and the fact that I can wash my hair is one of the best things that has happened to me in weeks. And I start crying.
After I finish, I feel a lot better. I feel cleaner inside, somehow. The pain is still there, of course. How could it not be? Geoffrey died only a couple of weeks ago, and that man was closer to being my father than my own handsome, useless male parent could actually have been. And I miss the fact that I've had to leave my school behind, and all my old friends - not that I had that many, but there were a couple I liked, and I suppose I could call them but what would I say? And I feel bad that I've left all my clothes and books behind, which is shallow, I suppose, considering what's happened, but they were mine and I loved them and I'll never have them again. But despite all this, the grief feels more manageable now. It's like I've lanced a boil, and the poison has leaked out and now I'm left with a wound that's still there, but it's healthier.
I wash my hair and lie back in the bath and eat a Mars Bar while I'm lying there, because I can. Then I get out, rinsing out the bath carefully, because I know I've made it a bit grimy. There's a bathrobe in plastic wrap on the towel rack. I break the packaging and slip it on. I look down at my clothes and wrinkle my nose. I won't put them on right now. I think of the other two outfits I managed to pack and wrinkle my nose again. They're not exactly fresh, either, but what do you expect when I had to move to a new town each day? The only thing I had time to do was rinse out my underwear each day, because I may be a fugitive but dirty knickers are just gross.
I finally leave the bathroom. It's now seven. I sit down on the bed and see that Rhia has opened her eyes.
"Hey," I say. "I ate your mini bar sweets. I hope you don't mind."
The quaint little sign by the side of the road flashes past me and I'd like to say that I relaxed a little. Except I didn't. I was as tense as ever, over the past few days, however long it was. Frantically driving across the country to California, to a place that I'd never seen and only heard of once. Without a real goal except 'get to Sunnydale'.
Why? I don't know. It didn't make any sense to me. But it was the one thread I had to hang on to and when I had the chance to get the fuck out of New York, I took it. Sunnydale. My lifeline.
I was at boarding school in upstate New York at the time. My senior year, I'm seventeen. Almost legal. I liked to go down to the city to party on the weekends. The school frowned upon that, but my parents were paying them loads of money from the mother country, so they could frown all they wanted. I wasn't more trouble than I was worth, because I was worth a lot. So I went down to the clubs. No big deal, right?
I knew people. Lots of people. I was pretty popular, if I do say so myself, which I do. I knew this one girl... I don't even want to think about it. She wasn't really my friend but we hung out together sometimes, saw each other occasionally, went to the same clubs. One time, I saw her get into a fight with some guy. Not like a physical fight, they were just arguing. I figured he was her father or guardian or something, but I eavesdropped anyway. Sue me. It saved my life.
He wanted her to get out of town. "Go to Sunnydale," he said. "You're not safe here." Then something about potential, and some girl named Bunny or Muffy or something. Weird name. My friend refused to go.
The next weekend, I saw her die.
These guys in black robes came after her as she left the club. I followed her 'cause I was gonna ask for a smoke, and I saw it. Well, sort of. I don't remember most of it, and I ran away as fucking fast as I could. I didn't think they saw me.
I didn't go down to the city after that. Stayed at school on the weekends. I was pretty freaked out, but thought I was safe. That school had security up the arse, nothing gets in. A couple of days later, the guys in robes came after me. Security held them off, but I got the hell out of there fast. I don't know what they want from me, maybe they saw me that night. I don't know. But that night, I grabbed some shit and ran. The school let some upperclassmen have cars, it was like a status symbol. Whose parents are the richest.
I jumped into my little Jetta and drove across the country. I slept about every other night, and I wasn't tired, anyway. Running on adrenaline and fear. And now that I'm in Sunnydale, I don't feel any better. What do I do now?
I drive into town, park the Jetta on the main street and get out. Ooh, look, a coffee place. I could use some coffee. I've lost track of the days I spent on the road. I feel like shit. I probably look like shit. I dragged myself over to the coffee shop, got something big and wam and caffeinated and sat down at a random table. Time to figure out what to do now.
"I shall carry a light in a dark place and it shall consume me."
"I have to be here, where it's dark. Yes. Where they come, my dead, and talk to me. Tell me what I deserve."
"From beneath you, it devours."
Watching the sunlight fade as I walked back from Spike's crypt was a new thing Buffy-wise. I'd spent most of last year walking away from Spike's crypt just as the sun started peeking over the horizon, my skin still tingling with the things we'd done the night before as I tried to get home before my friends realised that I hadn't been home all night. Home before Dawn got up and realised my bed hadn't been slept in.
I'd been ashamed.
I followed the same route as I walked away from Spike's crypt, the same as I'd done all those mornings last year. Passed by the same houses that I had then and wondered if anyone looked out, would they know what I'd been doing? Would someone be able to see?
I felt it again. Shame. But tonight it was different.
I went over every word he'd said on the short walk to my house. Went over every wince, every beat of my heart as I realised I was standing in front of someone who'd tried to force his intentions on me in my bathroom, a man - not a monster - who I'd trusted. A man who I'd let myself lower my defences with.
"Do you know how many girls I killed? Girls like Dawn? And you trusted me with her. God."
I blinked at that, my eyes blurring. I wasn't sure what to think. Spike was... Unstable, crazy. If he got out then-- He'd promised he wouldn't. He promised that he'd wait there for me, that I wouldn't find him gone again and I believed him. I just didn't know how to begin approaching this with my friends.
I turned onto my street, thinking that saying "hey, guess who's back?!" was probably *not* the best way to start this conversation, and raised when I saw Dawn sitting with a girl I'd never seen before. "Geez, one day and you're making friends already?" I asked, forcing a note of happy-smiley-Buffy into my voice, "Even I didn't do that."
I turned towards the girl, took in her appearance for a moment and almost had to have a moments pause. She looked like a student, I guessed, but I really hadn't seen her round anywhere and sue me but I was pretty compelled to *not* trust exchance students since the last one had tried to suck the very life force out of my best friend. "I'm Buffy," I told her, "Dawn's sister? And you are..."
Willow's vision has been bothering me since she left. "From beneith you it devours". The hell-mouth is going to open, and all number of nasty things will be heading out. I know some of the potential slayers have found their way to Buffy's house. What I haven't told her yet, is that they're dying.
We've lost a goodly number of the potientals that had been found, and had watchers. Not to mention the countless others that we can't begin to know about, that have yet to be identified. I tried to talk to the council. The bloody gits wouldn't give me the paperwork I needed. Had to go through "red-tape" they said. I say Bull. They have information and are too afraid to share it.
I'm afraid my past got the better of me though, and I was able to get in, and find the specific information on the Hellmouth I thought Buffy would need. But first, I have a job to do. I need to find out how the girls here are, and help if I can. Here in England alone, we have at least four girls', already assigned to watchers.
We've had one in Istanbul die, and another in Germany. I don't know how many other's will have to suffer. So all I can do is try.
I put in a call to Robeson today. He said to visit, that he had information, so that's the plan for this evening. I hope he knows more than I do.
I hope we find an answer. Or more girls' will die. Dear lord, Buffy will die. Again.
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