Remember Me

"Okay, so I need to practice more," Willow said dejectedly, hunching her shoulders as she dropped the crystal pendulum with a clank on the wood floor. "I'm sorry guys," she muttered hopelessly.

"It's all right, Willow. You're still learning," Angel patted her back and sat back on the couch.

Spike stood up without a word and headed for the kitchen. A second later, the front door slammed shut. Willow jumped slightly and felt worse. The stupid locater spell she tried hadn't worked very well. It had said that Buffy was in Iceland at first. Then home, then Philadelphia. It was discouraging.

"And the cops have discovered nothing?"

"Absolutely nothing," Angel muttered, leaning forward and burying his head in his hands.

Willow stood and sat next to Angel, putting a comforting hand on his back. "What do you think, Angel?"

"I think that if it were run of the mill kidnappers, Buffy would be home by now. I'm thinking that whatever has her could be hurting her and I'm not there to protect her. I'm thinking I failed her. I'm thinking that I don't know how much longer I can hold on because I'm hanging by a thread," Angel said matter-of-factly, keeping his head down.

"Buffy is strong, Angel. She's stronger than any girl I've ever met and I'm not only talking about physical strength or magical strength. She's brave, even when she's scared, and she's brassy and she would do anything for you and Spike. Wherever she is, I know she's out there, thinking of you both and fighting her way back to you. You can't give up."

"I won't give up until the day comes that I see Buffy standing in front of me."


Spike tossed his empty beer bottle, the sound of the glass shattering making him smile for a brief moment. Ah, the old days. The old days when he didn't care about anything at all but blood, sex and the kill. Well, that was a lie. He cared about Dru. Maybe that was his fatal flaw. He was a demon that knew how to love, even when he had a soul. Maybe if he were a loner. Maybe if he wasn't love's bitch, he wouldn't be feeling as if he wanted to stake himself.

Finding his destination, Spike knelt with a thud on the soft earth and placed a hand on the cold stone.

"Hey Joyce. How ya doin? All the angels must be jealous of you bein' the prettiest angel up there." Spike sat back on his heels and put his hands in his lap. "I didn't bring any hot chocolate with me this time. Had to get out of the house in a rush before I lost my head with Red. It wasn't really her that I was angry with. Just the whole sodding situation. Doesn't seem that we're getting anywhere on finding Buffy. Need your help Joyce. Feeling like I let her down, let you down. Hell, I've let MYSELF down. I swore to never let anything happen to her and now I don't know WHAT'S happened to her. If you could help us out here, Joyce. Flutter your little angel wings on down here and tell us where your daughter is that'd be great." Spike hung his head, trying to reign in the threatening flood of emotion. "She wouldn't be happy with me right now. I've been a right bastard with Angel lately. We've been arguing quite a bit," Spike heaved an unnecessary sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "I reckon Angel and I don't really know how to relate to each other with Buffy around. All our energies have been solely focused on her since we met her. Any time in the past we've had to deal with each other, it always came out with bloody results." Spike recalled the smack Angel had given him a while ago. "Not much has changed, I guess. Buffy was the glue that kept us together."
He shook his head, "or it could just be the stress of it all. Buffy's gone missing and we're running around like chickens with our heads cut off trying to find out what happened and where she could possibly be. We can only do so much. Other than that, it's a bloody waiting game. Wearing on our nerves. . . feeling useless. . .I've taken to drinking and beating up the wandering vamps. If I could only snap the necks of the ones who have her." Spike swallowed, "yeah, so, if you could help us out here Joyce, it'd be much appreciated. I, uh, I promise to try and get along better with Angel. Reckon it wouldn't do us any good to be at each other's throats all the damn time. Buffy wouldn't like it. I can see her, ya know? I can see her with her hands on her hips giving me that look when she's about to lecture me. Even though she really doesn't need to lecture me when she's given me that look. Her looks speak volumes. She was bad at playing poker, let me tell ya." Spike stood and patted the cold stone, "night Joyce. Keep our girl safe all right?"


"You were unable to get a hold of Rupert Giles?" Quentin asked as he sorted through some files on his desk.

"Correct. He's out of town supposedly helping a friend in Wales exorcise a poltergeist. That was the email I received anyway."

Quentin shrugged, "oh well. I suppose since he's allowed a holiday. I haven't given him much work lately anyway. Been kind of tied up with Buffy."

Lindsey nodded, "she was well received by everyone, don't you think?"

Quentin smiled broadly, "very much so. They bought everything. Hook, line and sinker. As did she. Not one issue with wiping her memories out. Quite proud of myself, if I may say so."

Lindsey stared out the window of Quentin's office, hiding a grimace as he watched Buffy walk across the incredibly large estate of Quentin's home and head to the large stone garden. It saddened and sickened Lindsey to think of what Buffy's inner turmoil must be. The horrible things Quentin made her 'remember' must be playing with her mind a great deal. He found her to be distant, cold even. He felt despair radiating off of her in waves coupled with rage. Rage that she had yet to unleash. When she did, it was sure to be a doozy.

"It'll be just a matter of time before Spike and Angel come looking for her, and in the mean time, you have training to do," Quentin told him, adopting a business like tone.

"I think I'll go see her now," Lindsey said and left Quentin's home office without another word for Buffy. Every moment in Quentin's company sat like lead in his gut. To play with her mind the way Quentin had made Lindsey more and more disgusted as the days went by. Not only did the poor girl lose her mother to an aneurysm in her REAL life, but then she was forced to believe her mother had died savagely by the very vampires who cared for her for so many years. And even though Buffy did not know of her real life, it still made Lindsey wonder how much could one girl withstand?

It was obvious to Lindsey that the sheer fact that Angelus and Spike had stayed with the girl for so many years, and had not turned her or killed her; they did have their souls as Buffy had told them. She'd been kept alive longer than any Slayer had been. Actually, a tad longer than Rupert Giles' Slayer. And, it was plain to see from the start that Buffy had an attachment to them. More than an attachment, she loved them. And, they loved her. They'd claimed her, that much was obvious by the marks on her neck and breast. Something that was probably seen as beautiful and full of love by Buffy, was now turned into something horrific. Quentin had told her those marks were where the two vampires had sucked her blood from, where they planned to drain her when they had their fun tormenting her first. The sheen of white Buffy had turned made Lindsey want to cradle Buffy against him and promise to take her away from the cruel world that seemed to want a piece of her.

Ever since the incident with Buffy, Lindsey had come to seriously question his place as a Watcher. How could his purpose be to aid a Slayer in the obliteration of vampire's when he felt that the two vampires who had kept her safe for so long deserved to have a chance? The proof was in the pudding, as his mother would say. His hands, however, were tied. If he went against Quentin, there was no telling what he would do to either him or Buffy. Or BOTH of them. If the man was demented enough to plant ghastly lies in Buffy's mind to use her as his puppet, then he would stop at NOTHING to destroy her if he needed to. The world didn't need protection from vampire's, it needed protection from Quentin Travers.

"Hello, Buffy," Lindsey said gently, knowing that he had best announce his presence rather than startle the girl. Her reflexes were quick and strong. The lies in her mind telling her that to lash out suddenly meant safety.

Buffy looked to Lindsey from the fountain she sat at. She smiled wearily. "Hello Lindsey. How are you?"

"I was just going to ask you the same thing," Lindsey smiled warmly and sat facing her. "How do you feel?"

"Exposed."

"How so?"

"All those people, staring at me. Made me almost have a panic attack."

Lindsey nodded, watching the ripples of water Buffy created when she dipped her hand in the pool of the fountain. "I'm sorry for that, Buffy."

Buffy sighed, "I know. Seems a lot of people are sorry for a lot of things. You're sorry for what happened to me, Quentin is sorry for what happened to me and for not being there sooner to stop it. Everyone yesterday was sorry about my mother and for what happened to me too. I'm sorry too."

Lindsey looked up at her, "what are you sorry for?"

"That I couldn't save my mother. That if I hadn't been born, maybe none of this would have happened. I'm sorry that I'm a freak. I'm sorry that it's because of me that she died." Buffy's lip began to tremble and fat tear drops fell from her eyes unchecked. Lindsey reached for her and she jumped up. "And I'm angry. I'm so angry. I'm angry at my father for leaving us. I'm angry for not having answers for why I was born like this. I'm angry that such things like vampires exist and that I chose to fight them. I'm angry with everyone who is born helpless and can't fight. If they could, then things like Slayers wouldn't exist and vampires would be no longer. Then young girls my age, and younger, wouldn't have to risk their families and their lives.

I'm angry that I lived, because now I get to see it in my head every time I breathe, every time I close my eyes, every time I move a muscle, I see what they did to her. What they did to me. And it burns Lindsey, it burns. I want so much to kill them. Most of all though, I want to exact revenge. Killing them would be too easy. At first anyway. I want to scar their bodies like they scarred mine. I want to pour holy water on them and watch their skin burn and melt. I want to rip their fangs right out of their skull. I want to blood let them, until they are so drained, they are almost dust. I want to press crosses to their skin and watch it smoke and leave their skin raw and exposed. And when they can't take it anymore and beg me to stake them? I'll torture them just that much more."

Lindsey had perfected the art of showing no emotion in front of others, but Buffy's speech had sent chills down his spine. Her tone was cold, her gaze like ice. Quentin had done the unthinkable. He'd turned her into a monster.


Chapter Twelve
Giles was glad to be home. His 'holiday' had come to a screeching halt when his fabricated lie about helping a friend exorcise a demon had actually come to pass. Karma had a way of kicking you right in the ass. Plopping down his things in the foyer, deciding to bring them to his room later when he'd had a chance to just enjoy the quiet of home, Giles started for the kitchen when the doorbell rang. 'What the hell?' Giles thought, 'do they have me on radar?' He spun and flung the door open and frowned when he saw who it was.

"Yes? Are you hear to reprimand me for missing Travers's exciting meeting on how great he is?" Giles snapped.

Lindsey raised his eyebrows and let a small smile slip. "Not at all. He doesn't even know I'm here."

Giles narrowed his eyes, "oh really? Do the apron strings stretch this far? I'm the big, bad wolf you know. I think for myself, just to let you know, so if you're looking one of his automaton's, you've come to the wrong place."

"That's exactly why I've come to see you Mr. Giles," Lindsey told him, not at all put off by the older mans derision.

"Oh?"

"May I come in?"

Giles sighed heavily, hesitated for a minute and then stood aside. "Don't make me regret this."

"You won't, I promise."

"We'll see about that. Tea?"

"Uh, sure."

"Don't worry. I won't poison you unless you piss me off."

"Gee, thanks," Lindsey said dryly as he sat on Giles's couch.

Giles prepared the tea in silence, darting glances at Lindsey, wondering what he was up to, what Quentin was up to and why it concerned him. He had 'left' the Council to not be apart of the politics, not to be in cased in them.

Setting the pot down on the coffee table and sitting in a rocking chair across from Lindsey, he regarded the man suspiciously. "So? What is it you want with me?"

"I have a Slayer-"

"You do, do you? Finally. He's given you some power and now you're afraid you're going to muck it up, is that it? Let me give you some advice: Be afraid. Be very afraid. You muck up anything with his Slayer and he'll never forgive you for it."

"Like he never forgave you."

Giles shot him a look, "right."

"I've read your journals, Mr. Giles."

"Just Giles please."

"Fine. I've read your journals and you kept your Slayer alive the longest."

"That I did. Wouldn't know it the way Travers acts though, would you?"

"He said you were too soft."

"He's too hard."

"I'd have to agree."

"Oh really?"

Lindsey nodded.

"And you want, what? To learn how NOT to be from me?"

"No. On the contrary actually. I want to learn how to be like you were with her. See, my Slayer. . . she's. . . special-"

"All Slayers are specials, that's rule one."

"Right. This one though, Buffy, she's-"

"What's her name?" Rupert demanded, sitting up straight.

Lindsey continued, "Buffy." He pointed at the man. "Do you know her?"

Rupert had to backpedal his outburst, so he sat back down leisurely and sipped his tea before answering. "Don't know her. Just an odd name for a Slayer. Sounds more like a cheerleader than a vampire slayer."

"Trust me when I tell you that she is a Slayer on a mission. That's part of the problem."

"Problem? I thought as far as the Council was concerned that was the solution. What's her story?" Inside Giles's heart was racing and he was fighting with himself from phoning Angel immediately. How the hell had Buffy gotten here? How did she come to be a Slayer? What the hell was going on?

"She's not really a Slayer, you see. She was born with Slayer like powers as well as magical ability."

"Interesting. Quentin must be loving that."

Lindsey snorted then shook his head. "Anyway. Quentin and I heard of her a while back and when we went to see her we learned that she had been abducted."

"Abducted, you say?" The plot thickens, Giles thought. Something was telling him he was NOT going to like this story one bit.

"Yes. By Angelus and Spike."

Giles forced himself to swallow the burning tea in his mouth and not choke. "The two most notorious vampires in history," he forced out in an even voice.

"Right. They killed her mother in front of her and then chained her to a wall and tortured her for days."

"How did they torture her?"

"They sucked her blood, beat her, taunted her with her mothers corpse that they kept as a souvenir."

Giles wanted to throw up. He forced more tea in his mouth and gestured for Lindsey to continue.

"When we found her, she was in a pretty bad state. We took her in, cared for her. When she came to, she was obviously very upset."

"Obviously. Upset is probably an understatement. Say, is this what the meeting was that you had called about?"

"It was."

Giles wanted to kick his own arse. A whole bloody two weeks had gone by. Two weeks ago he could have known about Buffy, could have helped Angel. God, what had Quentin done to this girl? How had he managed to skew her reality?

"Continue," Giles pressed.

"She's allowed us to have her under our care. In fact, she wants to be part of the Council and be a Slayer."

"But she's NOT a Slayer. A Slayer is Chosen. It's fate."

"You don't think it's fate that this girl has those powers? You don't think SHE was Chosen somehow?" Lindsey said defensively.

"Maybe she didn't want to be."

"Well, she was. And, she is. Now, she wants to be."

"What does Quentin have planned for her?"

Lindsey gave him a funny look, "he wants to train her properly. Hone her skills on the physical as well as magical level. He wants to find a way to use her born ability for the future Slayers."

"Like clone it?"

"Yes, something like that."

"And she's agreed?" She's agreed to be his pet project, his guinea pig?

"Yes. She also, of course, wants revenge on Spike and Angelus."

Giles's heart was weeping. Oh God. Of course she wants revenge on the ones that 'killed' her mother and 'tortured' her. Oh God.

"That," Giles cleared his throat, "sounds normal to want revenge on them."

Lindsey stood and started to pace. "I know it does. But. . . Giles, she's a cold, hard shell. She's . . . she's the automaton you spoke of. I'm afraid for her. I don't want her to be that way."

"You want her to have a heart?" Giles asked. 'You shouldn't have played God then. You bastard. You smug, self-righteous bastard. You messed with their lives. You ruined their lives!'

"Yes. I want to help her heal."

Giles nodded. "She's been through something quite traumatic. Something like that is not something you just bounce back from."

"I realize that. I'm not asking for a miracle. I'm just asking that you help me find some way to help her. Like I said, I've read your journals, I've heard of your methods, I've SEEN you talk to Slayers. You have a heart. You have an open mind. You are NOT an automaton and I do not want Buffy to be one."

'Then give her back to Spike and Angel. Undo what you did!'

Giles let out what he hoped was not a shaky breath and leaned forward. "Bring her to me. I want to see her, talk with her."

"Then you'll help?"

"Anyway I can," Giles said, and he meant it. He was going to help Buffy all right. He was going to help undo whatever the hell Lindsey and Quentin had done and get her back to her family where she belonged.

"Thank you," Lindsey held out his hand. Giles took it, reluctantly. "I'll bring her by as soon as I can."

"Tomorrow. Bring her by tomorrow."

"Right. Thank you again," he made for the door and stopped. He turned, "and please don't tell Quentin we talked all right?"

"Of course," Giles nodded and stood. As soon as the door shut behind Lindsey and Giles was sure he was gone, Giles dashed for the phone.

"Be home, be home, be home," Giles chanted as the phone rang.


"Hello?" Angel answered, having been woken out of a slumber.

"Thank God Almighty!"

"Giles?"

"Yes, it's me! Angel, I have the greatest news. News you've been waiting for-"

"Unless it's news about Buffy-"

"It is! I have-"

"New spell? Willow tried a locater spell. Didn't work so well."

"Angel?"

"Yes?"

"Kindly shut your trap and let me speak."

"Okay," Angel frowned and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He'd gotten a headache again, his vision quest for Buffy wreaking havoc on him. Spike was in the bedroom no doubt drinking.

"Buffy's here, Angel. She's here in London. She's at the Council. Quentin has her. Not sure of what that bastard has done to her, but it's not good, Angel."

Angel hadn't heard anything beyond Buffy being in London. If he breathed, he surely would have stopped. "She's. . .she's there? She's safe? God, tell me she's safe," Angel whimpered and he jumped to his feet, tears falling freely.

"She's safe. Well, as safe as she can be under the care of Travers."

"What is he doing to her? What's become of her? Have you seen her?"

"I haven't seen her Angel. She's. . . she's not herself, I do know that."

"What do you mean?"

Quickly, Giles told Angel about Lindsey's visit and what he had told him.

"I should have known that bastard was behind it!" Angel bellowed. "But she's all right? She's not hurt?"

"I won't know until I see her tomorrow, Angel. I wish I could report more, but this is all I know. Don't do anything until I've seen her. I need to see her and see just how bad the damage is. It's Buffy, Angel, but it doesn't sound like the Buffy that was taken. Quentin has turned her into something else."

"Frankenstein," Angel murmured.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing. Call me AS SOON as you see her," Angel sat on the couch and let himself weep. "She's alive. She's alive, Giles. That's. . .that's all I need right now."

"I know. I'll be in touch. Take care old friend."

"Thank you, thank you so much," Angel wept as he hung up the phone. Trying to put himself together he bounded into the bedroom where Spike had passed out on the bed. He shook Spike so hard, he practically sent him flying across the room.

"Bloody hell! What'd you do that for?" He swore as he stood.

"I just got a call from Giles-"

"Yeah? Got another spell to try?"

"Not needed. She's been found."

Spike nearly fell to the ground, as did his jaw. "What?" He whispered.

"Giles just called from London. She's there. She was taken by the Council, by Quentin Travers and his sidekick, Lindsey McDonald."

Spike pointed a finger at Angel, "have you lost your soul?"

Angel furrowed his brow, "what?"

"I'm thinking that Angelus liked to play sick jokes. If you lost your soul, then this would be a sick joke Angelus would play."

"I didn't lose my soul you idiot! I just got a call from Giles. In London. That smug little shit Lindsey went to see Giles for advice about how to handle the newest Slayer: Buffy Summers. OUR Buffy, Spike. She's alive."

Spike fell to his knees and cried, "Thank you!" He looked to Angel, his own tears falling now. Tears of relief. Tears of joy. "She's all right then? She's not hurt?"

"Not that I know of. Giles hasn't actually seen her."

"We have to go now. We have to go see her."

"Spike. There's something you need to know first. Something that might change how we approach Buffy when we see her."

"What the hell are you prattling on about? When we see Buffy, we hug her and we never let her go."

"No, Spike. Buffy isn't going to want to hug us. Quentin made sure of that."

"What the hell is going on?!" Spike shouted.

"He did something to her. He's made her believe that we murdered Joyce, right in front of her, then chained her up and tortured her for days until they 'found' her."

Spike closed his eyes, "what did they do?"

"I don't know. Giles isn't sure either. They. . . they brainwashed her somehow."

"She thinks we. . .she hates us?" Spike asked, looking at Angel sadly.

Angel nodded, "if Buffy sees us now. . .she'll stake us."

Tears rolled down Spike's cheeks. "Our girl hates us," he shook his head and stood.

Angel sat down and put his head in his hands. "Giles is seeing her tomorrow. He's going to call after he's seen her." He looked up to see Spike in game face.

"I don't give a sodding hell about my fucking soul. I'm going to kill Quentin Travers and his little mini me as soon as I get my hands on them. He wants bloodshed? He's going to get bloodshed. His."