FIC: Changes Come ~PG-13 (4/5)

On we go.
Part IV: Sumer

Spike hadn’t been kidding when he told her the place they’d be staying wasn’t in the best area of town; what he hadn’t mentioned was the fact that it was square in the middle of a demon hang-out, although he’d been quick to point out that it was probably the last area anyone would be looking for them. At least, they wouldn’t look for her there.

He was sleeping now; Buffy had dug out the bullets she could see without and had bandaged his wounds with the first aid kit she’d brought along with her.

Okay, Giles had been the one to insist she bring it, and he’d been right.

Buffy had opened the box as soon as Spike had gone to sleep, wanting to be the first one to look inside. It felt sacred to her, as if it was meant for the eyes of the Slayer only.

There were two pieces of a parchment-like substance, both covered in writing. Buffy didn’t recognize the symbols on one of them, but the second looked as though it had been written in French. She hoped that Spike would be able to decipher it once he woke up.

The rest of the contents included an ancient stone knife, a tarnished amulet with the figure of a woman just barely visible, and a piece of twine that appeared to be stained with blood and other things better left unknown. When she unraveled it from its tangle, she saw that it formed a loop, although she couldn’t find the place where one end joined the other.

Unable to make sense of any of it, Buffy found herself yawning. Carefully placing the items back in the box, she went to join Spike, strangely comfortable with the idea that she was sharing a bed with a vampire.

Buffy had found his constant presence easy to bear over the last few days, and she had to admit that he was an excellent travel companion. Her most recent boyfriend would probably have tried to discourage her from continuing her mission—although Spike was obviously not her boyfriend. Still, the comparison was an easy one to make, and while there were moments that Buffy still found herself missing Riley, she couldn’t regret the fact that he wasn’t the one with her now.

Settling down on the bed, Buffy kept her back to the vampire, trying not to disturb him. Spike’s arm settled across her middle, and he tugged her close. “Where’ve you been?” he asked sleepily.

Buffy froze at his familiarity. “Huh?”

“Thought you were comin’ straight to bed, luv. ‘s always warmer with you here.” He nuzzled her shoulder, and she stiffened. Buffy realized that he wasn’t fully awake and that whatever Spike was doing, he wasn’t quite aware of it. The way he called her “love” was warmer than his usual tone. It was—affectionate.

“Spike?” she called softly, wondering if he’d wake and release her.

“Yeah?” Buffy knew immediately when he fully awoke, because he removed his arm and pulled back from her. “Everything okay, Slayer?”

“So, the bed’s warmer with me in it, huh?”

There was a long silence. “Look—”

“You know, if you want to put your arm back where it was, I wouldn’t mind.”

Buffy felt him settle on the bed behind her, his body slowly uncoiling. “That right?”

“I opened the box,” she said, changing the subject. “There are more papers to translate inside, as well as some other stuff.”

“Have to get to it later. I’m too knackered right now,” Spike admitted.

Buffy scooted back slightly, feeling the solid wall of his chest. “Me, too.”

“Better go to sleep then,” Spike advised. “We should be safe enough here.”

She drifted off to sleep, feeling remarkably secure given the fact that she was sharing a bed with a vampire.

~~~~~

Spike awoke with Buffy’s scent filling his nose. They had shifted positions during the night, and now she faced him, her head tucked under his chin, his right arm over her shoulders. He probably would have extricated himself immediately to avoid getting popped in the nose, but her reaction to his touch last night had put those fears to rest.

Not that Spike was going to try anything more ambitious than throwing an arm across her as she slept. He had no desire to wind up dusty.

He watched her sleeping, studying her sun-kissed skin, the dark roots just beginning to show in her blonde hair, the scars on her neck from where the Master and Angel had bitten her. When snips of sonnets began filtering through his brain, Spike knew he was in trouble.

It only made sense, though. His willingness to come along on this little jaunt, the need to prevent anything from happening to Buffy, his desire to shag her into oblivion without wanting to drain her afterwards.

Spike had been in love before; he knew what it felt like, and this was dangerously close to it.

Pulling away from her, Spike rose from the bed, feeling the pull of his half-healed wounds. He was going to need blood sooner rather than later in order to heal completely, and Buffy was going to need to eat as well.

It was just now twilight, and the sun was low enough that he needn’t fear the remnants of the daylight. It would be better if he went out for supplies before Buffy woke because she would probably want to go with him, and Spike thought it would be better if she wasn’t seen.

He picked up blood as well as a sandwich for Buffy at a little sidewalk stand he passed, hoping that it was something she liked. Spike kept to the shadows as much as possible, watching out for any pursuers.

Buffy was just waking up when he slipped back into the room. “Spike? Where did you go?”

“To get food,” he replied. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” she replied, taking the sack he held out for her. “Thanks.”

“Figured we’d need something to get us by if we were going to be holed up in here for a while,” Spike replied.

Buffy frowned. “How long?”

He shook his head. “Dunno, really. We’ll have to leave eventually. Thought we’d decide when we figured out what was inside the box.”

“I know I can’t translate that stuff,” Buffy replied. “Giles could, but he’s not here, and if we go back to Sunnydale, I don’t think we’ll ever find out what Miles wanted us to know.”

Spike shrugged. “You do the best you can, yeah? Might be that we need reinforcements. Wouldn’t hurt to at least know who’s after us.”

“Shouldn’t we call Giles?” Buffy asked.

Spike shook his head. “Not from here. Don’t trust the folks who run this place not to listen in. We’ll have to wait a bit.”

“Okay,” Buffy said, taking a bite out of her sandwich.

Spike sat down at the small, rickety table that sat in a corner of their room. Pulling out a container of blood from the bag he’d brought, he began to sip while looking over the pieces of parchment. “Dunno what this scribbling is,” he said, setting aside the first document. “Watcher might know, but I haven’t the foggiest.”

“And the other?” Buffy asked, coming to look over his shoulder while still eating.

“French, and it’s old at that,” Spike said. “Looks like someone’s translation and notes of the other, but who knows if it’s accurate or not?”

“What does it say?” she asked, resting one hand on his shoulder.

The gesture sent a flood of warmth through him that Spike fought to keep out of his voice. “Talks about you, or the Slayer, anyway. There’s a myth about Inanna, the Sumerian goddess of love and war that this bloke believed was based on a Slayer, and her love for a…” Spike trailed off, certain that he’d read it wrong.

“Her love for a what?”

Spike shook his head. “Talks about her goin’ down to the underworld after him, redeeming him every year, an’ that’s why the seasons change. It’s just a myth.”

“Her love for a what, Spike?” Buffy asked, her tone sharpening. “What did she love?”

Spike rose. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It obviously matters to you.” Buffy turned him to face her, the remains of her sandwich forgotten. “What is it that has you so freaked out?”

“It talks about her love for a vampire,” Spike finally said. “This wanker traced the myth back, said he thought it had something to do with a Slayer who loved a vampire and pulled him out of darkness, and that together they beat it back.”

Buffy frowned. “What else?”

“That they were stronger together,” Spike finally admitted. “It doesn’t mean anything, though. He was speculatin’ on a fascinatin’ myth and bits and pieces of legend handed down through the Watchers’ Council.”

Buffy sat down on the bed. “Wasn’t it Giles who suggested that you had a higher destiny to fulfill, with the chip?”

“He was blowin’ smoke,” Spike said dismissively, although he felt a twinge at his own words, knowing that they weren’t the entire truth.

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “You still agreed to help.”

“It was better than scrounging,” Spike shot back. “What the hell else was I supposed to do, Buffy? They took everything from me, everything I had been. I had the chance to get what I needed, and still get a spot of violence in before bedtime. It was better than my other alternatives.”

“And that’s why you came with me on this trip?” Buffy demanded. “Because it was better?” Spike opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. “And before you say anything, let me just remind you that you took three bullets for me last night, and you were snuggling with me today.”

Spike stared at her, then his eyes narrowed. He figured that two could play at that game. “Still beat the hell of my other options.”

They glared at one another, at a stalemate, and Buffy was the first to look away. “What else does it say?”

Spike sat back down to read, keeping a careful eye on the Slayer. “Says that this Watcher found a way to go back in time, experienced it for himself.” He frowned. “Talks about a choice, about a way to make a choice.” Spike glanced over at her. “I can’t quite make out the meaning.”

“Can you figure out a way to do the ritual?” Buffy asked.

Spike’s eyes widened in alarm. “Buffy, you have no idea what’s on the other side!”

“It’s part of what Miles wanted me to find,” Buffy said. “I need to know, Spike.”

He sighed, knowing by now that there was no reasoning with the Slayer when she was like this. “All it takes is what’s in this box and your blood, luv. Cut your palm, wipe the blood on the amulet, and toss it into the circle. There’s your portal, and without any way to get back, I might add.”

Buffy frowned. “We’d better keep looking then. Maybe there’s something else in there to give us a clue.”

Spike bit back a sigh. He just knew that she was going to be the death of him.

~~~~~

Buffy couldn’t have said why it was so important for her to go through with this. There was something that called to her, that told her that whatever information the mysterious portal held was something she needed.

She was having a hard time understanding why Spike was so against it, or what had freaked him out so badly. Was the thought of a Slayer having feelings for a vampire so abhorrent to him?

“Someone can keep it open on this end,” Spike said quietly, interrupting her thoughts.

Buffy perked up at that. “How?”

“You have to have an anchor, someone who’s tied to you through blood, to stay on this side of it.”

That presented a problem, considering that Buffy didn’t have all that many relatives, and none of them were readily accessible at the moment. “That doesn’t work.”

Spike grimaced. “Well, there’s another way.”

“Another way to what?”

“Be tied by blood.”

He was looking rather pointedly at her neck, and Buffy suddenly realized what he meant. If Spike ingested some of her blood, that would give him a tie to her, and if she wanted to do this badly enough, Buffy was going to have to allow Spike to drink from her.

Okay, maybe not drink from her. “The chip?” Buffy asked. “Isn’t that going to make it a little difficult?”

“Wouldn’t have to be much,” Spike replied, “and I wouldn’t have to bite you.”

Buffy’s eyes went to the stone knife laying on the table, understanding what he meant. “Well, I have to cut my hand for the portal to work in the first place, right?”

Spike shook his head. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Buffy. There’s no telling what’s through that portal. You could get yourself killed as soon as you walk through, an’ then what—”

“What are you going to tell my Watcher?” Buffy asked for him. “Tell him I’m too stubborn for my own good. Giles has said it often enough himself that he’ll believe you.” At the frustrated expression on his face, Buffy relented. “I’m not going to get killed, Spike, but I think this is something I need to do. Think about it. Miles wanted me to have this information, someone killed him over it. We got shot at last night; they obviously knew where we were headed, so they have to know what I’m going to find. It’s too important to give up now.”

Spike shook his head, still clearly unhappy with her insistence, but he nodded. “Fine. How do you want to do this?”

Buffy’s eyes widened. “We’re doing it now?”

“When else?” he asked. “If we talk to Rupert before we attempt this, he’s gonna tell you not to do it, an’ then you’ll either have to lie or go against his orders.”

“I’ve done that plenty of times before,” Buffy pointed out. “But you’re right. It’s probably better to get this over with.”

“You’re the one who has to set it up, Summers,” Spike said, pushing back from the table.

Feeling awkward with Spike watching her so intently, Buffy laid the twine out in as perfect a circle as she could manage. Then, she took the knife and—praying that there wasn’t anything on the blade that was going to kill her—swiped it across her left palm.

The blood welled up, and Buffy cupped her hand to keep from spilling it out on the floor. Feeling even stranger, she held out her hand to Spike, watching as he bent to drink the blood from her cupped palm. It hit Buffy then what a picture they must make—a Slayer holding out life to Death.

His hand cradled her own gently, however, and when his tongue darted out to catch a stray drop before it fell on the floor, Buffy felt a shiver pass through her. Spike pressed the amulet into her still-bloody palm, and then stepped back. “Be careful.”

Buffy met his eyes, and she could see an emotion there she was scared to name. Turning her back to him, she tossed the amulet into the center of the twine, watching as it began to spin, a light beginning to fill the demarcated circle on the floor, then shoot up to the ceiling.

She spared a moment to glance over her shoulder at the vampire who’d done so much to keep her safe, and then stepped into the circle.

And into another world.

~~~~~

“You came.”

Buffy stared at the girl standing in front of her. She was young, younger than Buffy, and dark-skinned, with high cheekbones and narrow eyes. “Did I have an appointment?” Buffy quipped, glancing around.

They stood under a harsh sun, but there were trees nearby, and people bustling around, carrying jars and baskets. No one gave her a second look, and Buffy realized that they weren’t actually seeing her. “I’m not really here,” she stated.

The girl smiled. “You are here, but you cannot affect this world. Such a spell would change the course of history.” Her dark eyes met Buffy’s and held her gaze. “Knowledge is weapon enough.”

“What am I supposed to know?” Buffy asked. “I was told that I needed to know this, but I don’t know why it’s so important.”

“Look.”

It wasn’t an answer to her question, but Buffy hadn’t been expecting one. This whole experience was a lot like a Slayer dream, where it was all cryptic messages and vague references; she was used to having to decipher information by now.

Buffy immediately saw that the girl was pointing at herself, which was a little odd. She glanced over at her companion. “What am I supposed to see?”

“Not see, follow,” she replied.

Buffy followed, dodging the people as best as she could. Even though her incorporeal form simply passed through anything she came into contact with, Buffy found the experience of going through a person disturbing. She watched as the girl ducked in a mud hut, and followed her inside, passing through the entrance.

“You must leave tonight,” the girl insisted. “My Watcher tells me that you are evil, and that you will turn on me now that we have turned back the darkness. He thinks that I should kill you now.”

The young man shook his head. “How can I leave without you? Come with me; we will find a place of our own. I will make a life for you.”

Buffy could hardly make them out in the dim light of the hut; only their eyes and the flash of their teeth were visible, but she suddenly understood what she was seeing. The young man was a vampire, and the girl was the Slayer of this time.

And they were in love; that much was obvious.

Buffy realized with a start that she knew their story, knew what the Slayer felt for him. She understood how much she loved him, how big of a risk she was taking. Buffy knew that what she had felt for Angel paled in comparison to what this girl felt for this vampire. This Slayer trusted her vampire completely, and she had no doubts about his loyalty.

Buffy knew that the vampire had fought by the Slayer’s side, that he had helped prevent the apocalypse, and that they had saved one another’s lives a dozen times over.

“How?” Buffy asked her companion, who was watching the scene with a nostalgic expression.

She smiled. “He saw her, and he loved. It is not so unusual. There is darkness in us, as well as light. There are vampires who will be drawn to our light, just as there will be Slayers drawn to their darkness.”

“Vampires can’t change, though. They’re demons,” Buffy objected.

The girl looked at her sadly. “This is what they have taught you; you have not seen for yourself.”

Buffy looked at the young couple, who were now embracing. “Did he change for you?”

“Yes, but they would not believe; the Watchers knew that with him at my side, they could not hope to control me.”

The scene altered, shifted, and Buffy felt a thrill of fear as she took in the sights. The girl was bound, kneeling on the ground, bleeding from a dozen wounds. Across from her, the vampire had also been bound, and was also wounded. His yellow eyes glowed, but they never strayed from the Slayer. He looked upon her as though she was his salvation. Perhaps she already had been.

“Will you kill him? Will you do what you must?” a man asked her.

They were surrounded by men, Buffy realized. All of them were men, and she had to wonder where the women were.

Why had it been a girl, chosen to be the Slayer, and not a man?

The girl spat on the ground, and Buffy could see the blood in the mixture in the flickering torchlight. “I’ll do what I must.”

“You swear this?”

“I swear it.”

Buffy wasn’t expecting what happened next. They released her, but when they handed her the stake to kill the vampire, she plunged it into her own chest instead.

She felt the pain of the stake through her own heart, just as she’d experienced everything else this Slayer had lived. Buffy knew her love, her terror, and her utter despair—the acknowledgment that they would never find a place to live in peace together.

Death was her only release; she believed she would find him again beyond the grave.

The pain was over in a moment as the Sumerian Slayer died, and Buffy heard the vampire howl his anguish, snapping his bonds in his grief. He managed to rip the throats out of three of the men before they finally staked him, and his ashes drifted down over the still body of the Slayer.

“I don’t understand,” Buffy protested. “What is this supposed to tell me?”

The girl gave her a sympathetic look. “That is the Council. They did not want her to choose for herself.”

“Choose what?”

The scene changed again, and this time Buffy immediately recognized the girl who stood in the center of a circle of men.

The First Slayer.

“They called it being Chosen,” the girl beside her said, bitterness lacing her voice. “They said it was an honor, but you see how it began.”

As Buffy watched, the men began to chant, and she could see the chains that held the First Slayer in place. With a feeling of dread, Buffy swallowed hard. “What are they doing?”

“They are creating a warrior, to do what they cannot.” The girl met her eyes. “Did you not realize that it was dark magic that created us?”

Buffy wanted to turn away, but was unable to do so, seeing the gathering darkness swirl around the First Slayer. With a shriek, the darkness penetrated her chest, and the First Slayer screamed.

“I don’t understand!” Buffy said, her own chest hurting sympathetically. “What good is showing me this supposed to do?”

The girl’s eyes glittered. “We fight the darkness that lives within because we fear it, but it keeps us alive. They took our choices, and forced upon us a destiny that brings death.”

Buffy shook her head. “I still don’t get it. I’m the Slayer, I know, but there isn’t a vampire that—” She stopped, realizing what she was about to say wasn’t precisely true. “What happened next?”

The girl shook her head. “There was one Watcher who understood the truth, that change can come, and that sometimes taking Death as a lover is the only way to embrace life.” She smiled. “Sometimes love is the only gift you need give to beat back the darkness.”

“What if I don’t love him?” Buffy asked.

The other Slayer touched her cheek in a tender gesture, as she might have touched her sister’s face. “At least know that you have the choice. In choosing, you are changing everything.”

Buffy felt the girl’s lips brush her other cheek, and knew no more.

 

Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/150134.html