Inhuman Hearts

Part XIII - Consequences

Buffy stood there, with her mouth open trying desperately to inhale, but she felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room and she was left there to suffocate. Willow’s last words kept ringing so loud in her ears that she could hardly hear the rest of the explanation.

“Buffy?” Willow called out “Please don’t go all zombie on us again.” She pleaded.

“Slayer!” Spike tried to snap her out of it by shaking her to the core.

Buffy was brought back to reality by the feel of strong arms holding her from behind.

“How?” she asked unemotionally, her eyes stone cold.

“I checked for the meaning of the word Gyali, which I thought translated into has, which-which it does but…” Willow paused trying to get a grip on her emotions and then continued “it turns out that in older scrolls it can also mean to have, as in to bare, you know, to-to be born.”

Buffy looked at her friend confused and Willow decided to cut to the chase.

“The correct translation would be… He who possesses an inhuman heart… born from the Slayer’s… blood.” Willow exhaled sharply as she finished speaking.

There was complete silence. All four stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Suddenly Spike lunged across the room in It’s direction.

“Where is she?” he growled in a low and chilling tone as his grip tightened around the demon’s neck.

“Me-“

The vampire didn’t even give it anytime to answer strangling the creature till it couldn’t breathe.

“Spike, stop it! You’ll kill It!” Willow shouted trying to pull Spike off It.

“Where is she?” he continued snarling, not paying any attention to the witch.

“Tara do something!” Willow begged he she saw the creature turning bluer and bluer in the hands of the vampire.

“Separate!” as Tara said the word Spike and the Khind’Ara demon were thrown in opposite directions across the room.

It coughed uncontrollably, bringing its scrawny hand to rest on its throat. As the normal complexion of the creature returned, it was able to speak:

“Me…” cough “wanthelphelp.”

“Start speaking.” Buffy ordered.

“Me no know.”

“Wrong answer!” Spike roared making his way towards the creature with threatening eyes.

Buffy turned around and stepped in his way. She looked up at him and spoke in a low and strangely calm tone:

“Sit.” She turned to face the creature taking the dagger that had been tucked in her jeans in her hand. “Do you know this?”

It looked at the weapon and stuttered:

“Master want that. Master order men to get.”

“You’re master ordered who?”

“Tall, black face.” It answered.

“The same men that-that attacked us back at the Magic Shop.” Tara recalled.

As the image of the men’s masks flashed in front of Buffy she remembered the symbol carved into them.

“Willow, there was something carved in their masks, remember?”

The witch nodded.

“We have to check the books back in the Magic Shop.” Buffy offered.

********************************

“That’s it.” Buffy pointed at the symbol sketched in one of the pages of the large book.

“That’s the symbol of the Climes.” Willow informed as she read.

“Does it say anything else. Their habits, anything special about them?” Buffy inquired.

“I’ll have to read more on them.” Willow informed.

“Maybe there is something in this one.” Anya suggested carrying a large volume in her arms.

“Let me help.” Xander offered.

“Alexander Harris, sit your butt down.” Anya ordered dropping the book on the table. Xander obeyed sitting back down.

Everyone picked up a book and started reading, except for It who sat in a corner, chained to a pillar. Hours passed and nothing. Willow raised her eyes from the stuffy volume she was skimming through to look up at Buffy.

“Don’t worry. They can’t do anything to her if they don’t have the dagger.”

“I know.” She spoke coldly and unemotionally, her eyes never leaving the book in front of her.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” The same distant voice came from her.

Willow gave up and returned to her researching.

****************************************

Sunny morning came, was replaced by dusky afternoon and still they sat around the table reading through the dusty pages. Xander’s head was slumped over his book and his drool pooled from his mouth over the yellow page.

“Honey, wake up.” Anya called tapping him lightly on the shoulder.

“Huh, what?” Xander looked around like a lost puppy.

“You’re ruining the book.”

“Hum… Sorry.”

Tara yawned as she flipped through the book for the fifth time.

“You better rest for a while, luv.” Spike suggested as he noticed the deep dark circles around the Wicca’s eyes.

“I’m ok, Spike.”

The vampire nodded and returned to his own book.

“She hasn’t moved from there since we arrived.” Tara commented with Willow, pointing towards the tired Slayer sitting on the stairs reading through a book. “She hasn’t said a word about Dawn. She ju-just sits there flipping through the pages.”

“I know. I tried to talk about it with her but she avoided me, saying that everything would be fine, but she-she seems so… distant.” Willow whispered with sad eyes.

She had never seen her friend like that. In total Slayer mode she was icy-cold and machine like. Willow stood and walked over to her friend.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Buffy greeted back, her gaze still buried between the pages.

“Don’t you think you should get some sleep. It’s been over a day, you must be exhausted.”

“I’m fine.”

“Buffy, look at me.” Willow waited for her friend to raise her head, when she did the Wicca continued. “Are you sure?”

Buffy smiled weakly and uttered in a phoney joyful tone. “I’m fine, Willow.” And turned her attention back to the book on her lap.

The redhead sighed and made her way back to her seat.

************************************

The hours passed and night fell around them. Under the artificial light of the various lamps scattered around the Magic Shop the gang continued incessantly skimming through the old books.

In the training room, Buffy relentlessly kicked the punching bag, the dagger ready in her hand. She was so engulfed in her practice that she didn’t even notice Spike walking into the room.

He watched from afar as she massacred the bag. Her eyes were fuzzy and void of any emotion. A chill ran down Spike’s spine at the thought of how much she reminded him of the Buffybot. At that moment, even the robot seemed to have more life and humanity than the mound of muscle and skin shaped into the Slayer that stood before him.

“Trying to tire yourself out, Slayer?” he asked.

She was a bit startled by his presence, but soon she returned to her state of indifference.

“Wouldn’t you rather kick something that might fight back?” he asked stepping closer to her.

“You” punch “offering?” kick.

Spike nodded and she immediately stopped kicking the bag, tucked the dagger in her pants behind her and turned to face him. Without giving him any warning, she swung her leg high in the air and her foot connected with his face. Loosing his balance, Spike landed on the floor, staring up at the Slayer.

The vampire was about to protest, but realised that it was useless. Instead, he jumped to his feet and threw a punch that hit Buffy straight in her stomach. She bent over from the force of the impact. After a few seconds she looked up, her hands covered her sore belly.

What Spike saw in her eyes brought a mixture of angst and calm over him. Is that a spark of rage? Spike wasn’t able to answer his the question before the hint of emotion in her eyes vanished. She stood there, immobile and lifeless once more.

Spike’s leg flew up for a back kick, which Buffy easily blocked grabbing his foot and pushing it against him, causing him to be propelled across the room. Spike stood up once more and lunged at her. They fell to the floor together, rolling a few times before she ended up sitting on top of him throwing quick jabs at him. But contrary to what had happen weeks before in the dark alley, Spike didn’t lay there taking it, instead he grabbed her wrists and flipped her over. It was his turn to straddle her; her arms tightly secured over her head and her legs trapped between his. She struggled to free herself but it was useless. For some reason the vampire was too strong this night.

“Had enough?” he hissed with a serious face.

She answered by relentlessly trying to free herself.

“Slayer!” she continued to struggle. “Slayer!” he shouted loud enough to be heard in the entire Magic Shop.

“What was that?” Xander asked getting up and heading towards the training room.

“Xander, sit down.” Anya ordered.

“But Spike’s-“ he tried to explain but the ex-demon intervened once more.

“Xander, for once butt out of Buffy’s business.” Anya hissed. He had no choice but to sit back down when he saw Tara and Willow’s faces.

Back in the training room Buffy continued to struggle under Spike’s tight grip.

“Slayer!” he shouted once more, banging her arms on the floor over her head. “Bloody hell, look at me woman!”

At the sound of his angry voice she stopped struggling and looked up at him.

“You are too tired. You have to sleep. If these Climes guys come lurkin’ around here you won’t be able to fight them. You’re too weak.” He spoke calmly, but his concern was evident.

“Please let go of me.” Sskedsked automatically.

Spike sighed and let go of her arms. The moment she felt his grip loosen she pushed him off her. The vampire lay on the floor facing her as she hovered over him.

“I’m fine.” She spat out turning around to leave.

In a fraction of a second he was up and standing in front of her, effectively blocking her passage.

“Stop saying that.” He hissed.

As a response he received a strong punch in the face that made his head fly back. After the initial shock he returned the pleasantry by jabbing her twice. They resumed sparing, none of them holding back.

“Give it a” punch “rest” punch “Slayer!” kick, kick. “Stop” jab “acting like” punch “a bloody zombie.”

At his words Buffy doubled the frequency of her punches, but they seemed to loose strength. Fatigue, the lack of sleep, her fears over Dawn took their toll on her.

Spike saw the change in her. Her eyes welled up with tears and her punches gradually became weaker, until Spike stopped fighting back.

“How didn’t I know?” B cri cried out, as her fists hit Spike’s chest. For a normal guy that would cause them to fall to the floor in pain, but for a vampire her assaults filed more under rough caresses. “I should have know. I was so stupid.”

“You couldn’t have known.” He whispered, standing there taking every hit she threw at him.

“I-I…” she tried to speak. Buffy felt an onslaught of emotions take over her and she couldn’t keep the tears from streaming down her face.

The sight of the crying Slayer caused a conflict inside Spike’s mind. On one end his pride and his bruised ego pulled him away from her, on the other his bashed heart begged him to forgive her, to whisper in her ear that everything would be ok. It took only seconds for the battle to end and for the former to be deemed the loser party. In the blink of an eye he his hands held hers, pulling them towards his chest. Slowly his arms curled around her tiny waist, holding her steadily against him.

As she felt him surround her, she allowed herself to break down and slowly slump to the floor, dragging Spike with her.

They sat on the cold wood; he cradled her head on his chest as she sobbed uncontrollably. She forced the air into her lungs but her stiffened throat wouldn’t allow it, so he started gently caressing her hair as he rocked back and forth.

“Shhhh…” he tried to calm her down.

Eventually she was able to control her breathing. She clung to his sh nuz nuzzling her face on the rough cloth, mumbling muffled and confused words as the fear subsided and sleepiness settled in.

“I should…” sob “…known.” Snivel “I…”

“Shhhh… Don’t think about that now. Just go to sleep.” Spike’s soothing words echoed in her ears as she slowly drifted into slumber.

********************************

“Shouldn’t we go and check on them or something.” Xander suggested for the six time that night.

“Go to sleep.” Anya mumbled tightening her grip on her lover. They lay sprawled on the floor, while Tara and Willow continued to research.

“But…” he insisted, but when he saw Anya’s annoyed glance in his direction he decided it was in his best interest to shut up.

Willow smiled at Tara. They had gotten a few hours of sleep and now it was their turn to keep watch. The Wicca scribbled a little note and passed it to the brown-haired girl.

“Do you think they’ve made up?” Tara read and wrote her answer on the same piece of paper.

“I hope so. They’ve gotten back to their usual bickering and they are sleeping all cuddled up.”

As Willow read the answer she looked up at Tara, a frown settled on her eyebrows. “Not Anya and Xander.” She whispered and pointed to the training room as she added. “Them.”

“Oh, them! I don’t know! At least they stopped shouting, I think that’s a good sign.” Tara smiled sweetly and Willow felt her hear melt.

*********************************

In a dark room, a hooded figure walked slowly towards a marble altar, where Dawn’s feeble body lay motionless. Around them men chanted in an ancient language. As the man reached his destination the young teenager started waking from her tired slumber. She opened her eyes just in time to see a dagger coming down on her chest.

“BUFFY!” she cried out as the blade cut through her tender skin.