Snapshots of Eternity
by Slinkyspychokit



Chapter Six: Hearing Voices
beta'd by Oracleholly


A small part of Buffy's mind understood what was happening even as the rest of her was unable to escape the multitude of voices that had joined together in a screaming cacophony ripping apart her sanity. She was trapped, alone and helpless, and unable to flee the images rolling across the canvas of her dreamland.

White gloved hands...coming towards her...an hypodermic needle filled with some clear fluid meant to subdue her ...Those hands changing and superimposing themselves over larger, dirtier hands ... vials of ugly brown liquid ... brown dirty floor ...dirty...dirty...”dirty girls”... “Naughty and must be punished” ... chains holding her down ... laughter while she screamed ... ‘cuz it isn't any fun if he can't make her cry and scream ... “Please! I'll be good girl!”.... Don't... help me ... Mommy, make him ... nooooo! ... Blue ...Yellow and blue make green ... green like grass and dragon scales ... gibberish in dozens of languages ... the demon holding her down ... squeezing the air from her struggling body ... fangs tearing into her throat ...ripping the flesh...her blood...pouring in a scalding wave down her chest...cruel laughter as she slid into death...the bone saw got caught halfway and she pushed harder...the sticky purple pooling atop stark white tile...fingers swirling through the warm, tacky fluid...war paint in three long stripes...forehead to chin...cooling and drying as she ran through the night...she had to find him...make the monster pay... “Stake through the heart, cut off the head”...not scared...strong...won't hurt if she's quiet...so quiet...hide under the bed...find the box that held the special medicine...make you sleepy...wake you up....make you numb...he can't hurt her anymore...not weak...not weak...strong now...powerful...power..."WILLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!"

Buffy screamed in her sleep and continued to thrash and cry as she struggled to get away from what was happening.

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

The teacup slipped from her fingers to shatter on the cold stone floor and splash its tepid contents across fuzzy blue slippers and the hem of her matching terrycloth robe. The power filled her in a hot rush. Her hair lengthened magickally, glowing a bright, silvery white. The energies swirled in her eyes, pools of onyx obliterating the whites. A silver aura arose from every pore of her skin as one voice cried out from the legion within her. She was being called; the Guardian's anguish tore at her, begging, pleading, screaming to her over the vast distance.

Already on her feet, Willow moved through the corridors of the monastery she'd called home for nearly half a year, searching for a familiar face. She passed several robed figures along the way, asking after the whereabouts of the master werewolf in residence and sighing gratefully when pointed in the direction of the surprisingly modern gymnasium. If any of the Shaolin monks thought the sight of the Goddess in her flannel PJ's, fuzzy blue slippers and matching bathrobe odd, they kept silent on the matter. The temple housed a great many sights that most might consider odd. The Goddess and the Master didn't faze them in the slightest. Neither, for that matter, did the small winged creature chasing after the all-powerful Goddess as it rambled in sycophantic agitation.

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

While Willow sought the lone occupant of the well-equipped gym, Dawn was hurriedly shoving her keys into the ignition of her emerald green Volkswagen beetle. She'd always wanted a 'punch-buggy' of her very own, and her ‘baby’ was a sorry-your-life-got-swallowed-up-in-a-freak-accident gift from good ol' Hank Summers. She figured what the hell? If the old man wanted to shower money and shiny new condos on Buffy and herself in lieu of actually showing up to give a damn about either of them, then who was Dawn to argue? Besides, it got her to and from her job as part time research assistant at one of the world's leading institutes in demonology. The job paid extremely well, and Dawn was learning more than Giles had ever taught her.

Out of nowhere, her head exploded in pain, her foot slamming down automatically on the brake as she cradled her head. Breathing heavily and gritting her teeth against the pain, Dawn allowed the power to wash over her, turning her eyes into glowing pools of swirling green energy. The vast nothing and everything spread out before her, her inner eye honing in on the glowing red thread of the mother being. Buffy was calling out to Willow, and the Goddess' silvery white thread was reaching back. Dawn was awed by purity of that color. But Willow wasn’t just answering. The shining beacon of the Guardian's power was issuing a summons to all those connected by a similar thread.

Goddess. Guardian. Warrior. Protector. And the Key that bound them all. Dawn held the others together. She was the link in the center of the chain. The link the monks had made flesh from the Guardian and the Protector.

Even now, Dawn had trouble grasping the full weight of her existence. Sometimes the universe called to the power and the energies buried deep within the flesh and bone vessel. When that call was strong -like it was in this moment- the Key rose to the surface, guiding the body, while forcing Dawn the girl to be a backseat observer. She could still think and feel and try her best to influence the Key, but ultimately it was the Key that was in control.

Not for the first time, Dawn fully understood what Spike meant when he spoke of his soul and his demon.

The Key had been silent for the last two weeks following the little show of dominance against the Protector. Dawn had fought tooth and nail, remaining in control for the most part. But Spike had felt what she was doing and used every memory of every moment shared between himself and the Summers women in order to help.

It was the love he felt for them all. Memories of laughter and hot chocolate with little marshmallows. Grief at both Joyce's and Buffy's deaths. Disgust at what he'd nearly done in crazed obsession. Joy at Buffy's tinkling laughter. Misery at her rejection. Bliss in her arms...contentment at knowing his sacrifice would buy his loved ones a chance to live.

Pure, undiluted happiness at being once more surrounded by their love and acceptance.

Every last bit of those powerful emotions had been shoved through the familial claim, forcing the Key back into its resting place.

Long moments passed unnoticed as Dawn drew in all the whirling emotions of the others and allowed the Key to redirect them toward the one trapped within a lunatic's fractured mind. Faith was beyond pissed, and Dawn giggled at the colorful use of four lettered words. Was that last one even anatomically possible? Nah. You'd have to be an invertebrate. Or triple jointed.

Calming slightly, she eased her foot off the brake and hurried towards home.

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

A shriek pierced the darkened bedroom as the nightmarish vision changed and added one more layer to the assault. She was no longer seeing through the eyes of the insane Slayer. Now she was being forced to bear witness to an even greater horror as she stood on the outskirts of a major demon war. Broken sobs became terrified screams as she watched Angel and his team torn open one by one. Images blurred together, moving too fast before she could make any sense of the details.

Over and over, Buffy screamed her mate's name; silently begging to anyone who was listening to end this torment before it devoured her whole.

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

Oddly enough, the entire group managed to arrive outside the building housing the flat Spike shared with his girls. Peripherally, he registered the green glow in his Nibblet's eyes, the steady stream of swearing from Faith, as she'd been dragged from what had promised to be a righteous fuck, and the fading light of the portal from whence stepped Red with her ex mongrel and some sort of creature perched on her shoulder. But, none of that mattered in light of the mental anguish he could feel coming through the claim he shared with Buffy.

Then the screams started.

As if the first wave of visions -the ones which told her the story of an eight year old child kidnapped and tortured by a human monster- hadn't been horrific enough, the new deluge forecasting things to come threatened to shred the last of her sanity. Screams were being torn from her throat, her body jerking and thrashing from phantom blows.

Too much...Make it stop... The litany of images repeated on a continuous loop. Still no one came to rescue her from the tortured screams of the dead and dying. Everything crashed in on her, her mind overloading and shutting down.

Too far gone to notice that indeed the cavalry had arrived in the form of her mate and the Goddess, plus the Key and Protector. The touch of his hands on her skin shattered the last of her tentative grasp on whatever sanity she held onto, and she fell over the edge into the void.

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

Willow was right behind Spike as they raced into the master bedroom and went straight to the bed. Willow's heart skipped several beats, but her warning came too late as the vampire reached for the petite blonde and pulled her into his arms. Buffy's eyes flew wide, and the screaming stopped. Her small body became deathly still, and Willow groaned as she saw a similar reaction in the man holding her fellow immortal.

"Oh, Goddess," she whispered mournfully. "Not again."


// Chap 7
// Back to Chap 5
// Back to Fic Index