Feedback: Good, bad and abusive, all appreciated.
Summary: The first in my Anywhere But Here series, (stories placing Buffy and Angel characters in alternate universe or previous life scenarios). The year is 1579. A Sleepwalker is very much in love with her human companion, and he with her, but fate, and a nasty ol' pussycat, are fighting to keep them from sharing that love.
Rating: Like a PG -13 I think.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not that they really appear here *exactly* as they appear in B:TVS and Angel anyway.
Author's Note: Inspired by Stephen King's Sleepwalkers, and repeated watchings of a certain *mistaken identity* scene from Graduation.
Dedication: For my own personal Sleepwalker, Leck.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
She looked dismally across the room at him. It had been seven days since he had been injured while guarding her on her hunt. A man, much larger than she, had attacked her, and while she had been fending him off, a cat, probably his cat, had tried to attack her too. While her strength equalled that of even the largest man, and possibly excelled it, cats were a sleepwalkers only weakness. One scratch, and she would grow weak and sickly, and unless she was treated by another sleepwalker's medicine, and sufficiently fed, she would die. As she travelled only in the company of a human, a cat scratch would seal her doom. He had been fully aware of that, and so, as she ran in terror from the cat, he had held off the man trying to pursue her.
She continued to watch him. His face was saturated in sleep. His brows pressed together in a type of dreamy consolidation she was unable to understand. His splint supported arm was placed delicately upon his chest. She was pleased that the stab wound in his stomach had begun to show signs of healing. She crossed the room to stand over him. She could hear his heart beating in his chest. Her hand nestled into the soft strands of his short brown hair as she closed her eyes, concentrating, wishing only to read his mind in the gentle art of dreamscape all of her kind had mastered. Her head clouded with images of her own. She could see his face, soft and delicate, smiling at her with love and compassion. His brown eyes shimmered through emotions she was yet to comprehend. She paused to focus, pushing past his face and into his mind.
He was in a place she had never seen before. No doubt would never see. Trees of nothing and something loomed over him, like soldiers over a prisoner of war. He sat, unmoving, in a circle of mirth, unwillinging to be tempted beyond it's boundaries and into the callus night. And then she saw herself. Barefooted, approaching without care, without caution. The fire in her eyes burned like the pits of Tarturus themselves. Her lengthy red hair waved about her face although there was not even the slightest hint of a breeze about them. Small droplets of blood stained her revealing white dress, more blood dripped from her fingers. Her hands were outstretched, appearing to have lengthened as though stretched by her own baneful soul. She spoke his name, and he looked up amidst surprise. She beckoned to him in loving tones. He stood and reached out to her.
"Come..." She whispered like the biblical snake that had changed all of humanity in the story of Adam and Eve. His eyes filled with love, and despite the doubt pressed upon his brow, he stepped out to her, extending his hand toward her own. Instead of taking his hand and leading him from danger, she recoiled with a grim laugh. Around her, the trees brushed her aside and plunged toward him. They had mouths of knife-like teeth and eyes to match her own, and as she watched them devour him, she continued to laugh.
She snapped from the dreamscape at this. Beside her he leapt from sleep. She hovered over him, "Are you all right?" Her gentle hand rested on his chest. Her head pounded with his quickening heart beat. She hated that she could hear so much.
He mumbled through his gasps, "Fine... Fine... It was just a... A bad dream..." His face converted into one of embarrassment, then his eyes sought to comfort her. But she was not so easily comforted. She continuedto fuss over him, and no matter what she read in his eyes, she knew his dream had terrified him. At the same time, it had more than terrified her. "Perhaps I should not hunt tonight..." She began.
He pressed his hand to her lips, "You must. You've not hunted in days. You are so pale… So very pale. Hunt, I shall be here when you return. And no doubt when you return I will again be sleeping and sharnt have cast a fresh thought toward my dream. Yes?"
She did not agree with him. For many nights, he had dreams of similar content, although he remained blissfully unaware that she had the power to see such dreams. Deep in her soul, she understood that his time of fascination and enthralment with her was nearing a close. Humans, some humans, had a temporary ability to understand her kind. But as time ventured on, human compassion would begin to settle in, and soon they would begin to feel for their own hunted race. It was a necessity, she felt, to travel with a human. As a sleepwalker, she had seen many of her kind slain alone. Their one fear made them susceptible to fatality, but a human could protect them from such negative disarray. In all of her years as a sleepwalker, she had many companions. He was the first that she had made some type of attachment to. She could not explain it. Sleepwalker's were, as all sleepwalkers knew, unable to share emotion with those not of their kind. The emotion between sleepwalker and sleepwalker was far superior to all other creatures in existence. Yet here, in a new place, in a new time, her sleepwalker feelings had turned toward a human.
"Promise me you will hunt." He said. "Promise me."
She swallowed, wishing he would ask her to promise something entirely different. But she knew she had to hunt. If she did not, she would grow weaker than she already was. If she did not feed every day, her energy, and her powers, greatly deteriorated. She had stayed with him to take care of him, but the time had come to hunt. She leaned close to him and kissed his cheek. "I promise." She ran her finger over the spot her lips had just touched, "I will hunt." She looked at him curiously, "Will you be all right?"
"Yes." He smiled reassuringly. "Be careful, stay away from cats."
Now she smiled back, "You do not need to warn me of that twice." He tried to sit up, but grimaced in pain. She felt his pain within her, "No, no. Do not move. You may open your wound again." She contemplated for a moment and then asked, "Would you like me to give you sleep?"
He did not wish to sleep. He felt as though sleeping was all he had done for the past few days, but when he slept, he did not feel the ache of his injuries. He nodded. "Be careful while you hunt." He warned again.
She spoke quietly, "You know I will." She took a deep breath, "Close your eyes." He did. She took another deep breath and waved her hand slowly across his face, "Travel into the realm of sleep. Dream dreams of happy times, and cast no thought to the events of recent times..." She paused, then said sadly, "Or your doubts of me."
Instantly he slept. She sat and watched him for a moment. When he slept, his face retained a mystical peace that she herself could never embrace. There were many blessings that came with being a sleepwalker. She had mastered her own mind, as well as the minds of others, and could speak telepathically to anyone she chose, whether human or animal. She could see the dreams of others, and give them sleep if it did not come to them itself. Her magic could make things disappear or reappear, and as long as she stayed fed, there was no limit to her powers. Life eternal was hers, and she was free to do whatever she pleased. But there were things about being a sleepwalker that did not sit so well with her. Her fear of cats would drive her almost to insanity at times. It angered her considerably to think that such a small and unintimidating creature could steal her life with one scratch, no matter how small. And the biggest downfall of all, she had to take human life to survive. She had, in all of her 321 years, found humans to be good companions. They were easy to talk to, and they gave her a sense of living. All she had travelled with had been happy characters. There was an excitement to them, they did not know if this moment was their last, or if there were many moments to come. Sometimes she longed for that mystery. He had been the perfect example of all she admired in humanity.
She got up and walked across the room, plucking her black hooded cape from the chair she had previously rested upon while he slept. She flung the cape around and draped it over her back, tying it around her neck and pulling the hood over her head. She smoothed the creases out of her plain white gown and headed toward the door. An ill feeling wavered through her, and she took a moment to look back at him one more time. Then she opened the door and stepped out into the cold night air. The village was alive with activity tonight. People, mostly men, could be seen entering and leaving the inn in which she and her companion had found residence over the past days. There was a cheery feeling amongst the villagers, tomorrow the Mother Earth Festival would begin. It was a time when all in the village and the surrounding area would come together to celebrate life and give thanks to the earth for a good harvest if the season had been good to them. If the season had been ill-founded, they would make offerings of freshly grown fruit and vegetables, and often wheat and grain, asking that the next season be a prosperous one.
She crossed the cobblestone road and moved toward the town square. Musicians played a lively tune, and she stopped to listen for a moment. The music swirled within her, her heart skipped a beat and then beat to the tune of the music. Music was humanity's greatest expression of emotion, and she loved to feel it run throughout her veins. Around her people danced, she smiled as she watched them. A young man approached her, his eyes resembled a mid-summer storm, and immediately, she saw the vibrance within him. He smiled warmly, "Would my lady care to dance?"
"Oh, very much so." She grinned. Within her she felt a wicked spark, she knew this energetic young man would make her a wonderful source of life this evening. She would take him into the shadows, be done with him quickly, and then return to her companion at the inn. She extended her hand, "That is, if my lord would care to dance with me?"
He took her hand, "That I would." He lead her out to stand with the people who danced, and quite quickly, began to whirl her about the dancing crowd. The world stopped beneath her feet, her heart, pounding in time with the music, floated inside her chest. She grew light-headed with a feeling of ecstasy and joy. She loved to dance. To feel close to someone. To feel as though there was nothing but pleasure in all the world. When the music stopped, both fought for breath. She smiled at the exuberant young man. He beamed as though he were the sun itself. "My lord is an exceptional dancer."
"Why thankyou¼" A small voice interupted him. She spotted a small boy, probably no more than five, running towards them. The young man she had been dancing with turned to him with outstretched arms, "Alexis, me boy¼" The boy leapt into his arms. He turned back to her, "My lady, allow me to introduce my son, Alexis, and I am Oswald."
"Well hello then good Oswald. And hello Alexis." The blue in the boys eyes struck her. He had the most endearing face she had ever seen. She felt a longing hidden deep within her trying to surface. Her fingers tingled, they wanted to reach out and touch the slightly chubby cheeks of Oswald's son. She caught the odd emotions running throughout her and forced them away. "How does it with you this fine night?" She asked the boy.
"Well, my Lady." He answered, before turning to his father, "Papa, Nanna wants you to help Grandpappy in the cellar."
Oswald looked at her with eyes that conveyed regret, "Tell Nanna I will be there shortly."
As he put Alexis down, the boy with the blue eyes spoke to her again, "It was very nice to meet you my Lady."
She bowed slightly, grinning, "The pleasure was all mine, Alexis, good night¼" He smiled and then turned and ran back through the crowd and out of sight. "He has your face, Oswald."
He smiled, "Yes, but he has his mothers eyes."
She glanced around the crowd cautiously at the mention of Alexis' mother. She hoped she was not impeeding on someone's marriage. "And where is your wife this evening?"
Oswald looked to the ground. There was a sigh in his stance, and he answered in a quiet tone, "Alas, Corinna died of the pox late last year."
Now she felt uncomfortable. "Oh, I see. My apologies." She thought back to the moment he had approached her. Radiant and lively. She had thought he would satisfactorily feed her on this warm evening. Her original thoughts of him now made her feel evil and distasteful. She made moves to depart, "Well, you should go. Alexis awaits, and I myself have things I must do."
"Indeed. It was a pleasure. Perhaps will we see each other tomorrow at the festival?" His words were politely questioning.
"Perhaps." She felt a sudden desire to be far from Oswald, she quickly muttered a goodbye and ran off down the road and into the night. She hoped he would not come after her, as most polite men often did when she tried to depart in such a hurried way. She pushed her thoughts out toward him for a moment, she could hear the words in his mind, 'And I never even asked her name¼'
She walked carefully to the edge of the village and peered into the darkness. She closed her eyes and extended her mind. Her hunger grew within her, growing to a point where it would soon consume her. If that happened, she would have no control of herself and would feed on anyone without thinking twice. She had some morals when it came to killing. She would not take someone if their lives were vital to someone else's existence, as with Oswald and Alexis. To her, the loss of one parent was tragic enough, she would not take Alexis' father from him too. If her morals meant that some nights she had to go hungry, then so be it.
Her mind swept through the forest, searching for someone alone, someone to hunt and then feed upon. A picture formed within her mind. She saw an old man. Alone in his hut deep in the forest. She probed his mind. Images of a woman, also old and frail, filtered through his thoughts. His wife had died many years ago, and he was lonely. She opened her eyes and walked further into the darkness, then concentrated again. She felt her body shaking and her skin bubbling. Her form slumped to the ground, and in but a few more moments, she was her true self. A creature much like a cat, from which sleepwalkers originated, but still ghastly human. She had seen her reflection once and it had horrified her. She was like a large cat without fur, her body retaining may of her human features, but her face a whiskerless cat face, her eyes small and sharp, even in darkness, her ears standing up straight on the top of her head, and her speed like that of a cheetah.
She sprung through the darkness, focused on the whereabouts of the hut. It did not take long for her to reach the hut. When she did, she paused outside, extending her mind again. The old man lay sleeping on his bed, with only a dying fire to light the inside of the hut. She crept quietly to the door, thinking it open. As she crawled over the threshold, she heard a sharp hiss. Frightened, she paused, stopping to gaze up at the source of the noise. In the darkness, she made out two piercing eyes. She too hissed, disgruntled, moving back over the threshold. The eyes moved forward, a grey-tabby cat leapt down onto the floor in front of her. She hissed again, then turned to run back into the woods. As she ran away, she could hear the cat following her. A cold feeling developed inside her. Because she had not fed for so long, she was not nearly as fast as the cat that chased her. She had little choice but to face it, and if she was lucky, kill it, then be gone.
She whirled back to look at the tabby. It stopped dead in it's tracks,staring her down, it's hair standing on end and a strangling hiss coming from it's mouth. She thought to it 'Go... Leave me... I will do neither you nor your master any harm... Go...'
But the cat did not go, did not turn it's back and run back to it's master. It's eyes portrayed it's deathly intent. It did not trust her. Although it had never seen anything like her before, it hated her, looking on her as the abomination of cat and human that she was. All cats are born hating sleepwalkers. It is in their blood, and it is that which makes all cats so dangerous. She often wished that it was something taught later in a cat's life, as were many of her powers. If cat's did not know what she was, they would have no reason to bother her, and she could hunt in peace and live without fear. The tabby's thoughts forced their way back to her, 'Die abomination... Die...' It leapt toward her. She shied away from it and slapped it away with her own clawed paw. The tabby landed and plunged toward her again...
This time, she was not so lucky. It's claws ripped into the skin on her face. Her body convulsed instantly, and her form shifted back into it's human shape. The cat continued to attack, eventually she managed to tear it away from her and throw it away. It slammed into a tree. Dazed, it stared at her as it shook it's head. She thought of her companion, alone at the inn. He would wonder where she was. He would search for her. She thought to the tabby, 'Mercy, please... There is someone I must... I must tell him what has become of me so he does not search...'
The tabby paused for a moment, 'A monster like you...'
'No... No...' She felt her life slipping from her. Her powers were almost gone, and she found it difficult to think back at all, so she spoke, "A human." She gasped, feeling her body beginning to burn. Flames shot from the scratches on her shoulder.
The cat was fascinated, it searched her mind, her heart and her soul, then meowed in amazement, 'A human you love...' Realization touched it, 'Though it is forbidden.'
Pain writhed throughout her body, the heat was unbearable. She tried to roll on the ground, as if to put herself out, but these were not normal flames that burned her away now. "Yes!" She screamed.
The cat continued to watch, she knew it was thinking, but what she was unaware. She tired to focus, but the agony consuming her body was too much. She suddenly felt it was hopeless. The flames had begun to spread. If she had fed, she would have had the strength to return to the inn, she would have lived for hours, although her death would have been more painful, more horrific, than the one she was enduring now.
Approaching her, the tabby's thoughts reached her, 'Give me your gift of the mind... I will deliver your goodbye...' She felt the cat's mind moving within her own and she tried again to focus. Her message, her gift, was being pulled from within her, and she was trying to help it leave. As the gift drained from her, she sobbed, and as it left her body, she collapsed, lifeless, into a burning heap on the ground.
The cat watched for a few moments more, then ran into the darkness towards the village. It had never encountered a sleepwalker before, but for reasons it could not comprehend, it knew that they could not love anyone or anything that was not also a sleepwalker. It was forbidden, and it was also deemed impossible. It searched her gift and her message. The love had been secret. Even from the man she travelled with. He did not know, so the love had never been consummated. Technically, she had never broken the laws of the sleepwalker.
When the cat arrived at the inn, it clambered through an open window to the room where he rested. It climbed upon him, meowing. When he did not wake, the tabby scratched him. He woke suddenly. When he saw the cat resting upon him, he pushed it to the ground. "I'll get rid of you," he muttered. Carefully getting up, he moved toward the cat.
The cat thought to him, 'I have a message from your sleepwalker...' He stopped mid-step, his face turned stone cold. 'She has passed on..'
"You killed her!" He spat, his voice reeking of venom.
'She tried to attack my master...' The tabby's words formed in his head. 'She begged for mercy... She wanted you to know what had become of her so you would not search...'
"I thought cat's hated sleepwalkers."
'They do... I do not know why… But they do... But your sleepwalker intrigued me... I deliver her message...'
His mind clouded over in a strange type of fog, and when the fog began to clear, he saw her. Her long, red hair clung gently to her sweet face. Her eyes sparkled amidst their hazel colouring, and her full red lips were tightly pressed in what he clearly saw as pain. Her voice filled his head, ringing through his ears. 'My companion, you have been good to me. You have protected me from danger, you have taught me things I did not know. I know of your doubts of me. Know this, I was never going to hurt you, William.' Her image smiled. 'Yes, William. I know you're name. I've known for a long time.' She paused for a moment, her face portraying the importance of what she was about to say, 'I am Angelina.' The image clouded again, and when the fog in his head cleared away a second time, she was gone.
The tabby purred in sympathy. 'You have lost someone who loved you... A sleepwalker never reveals their name...'
"I know." His voice was low and barely audible.
Turning away from him, the tabby climbed back to the window it had entered through, 'Fear not...' It's thoughts reached him again. It looked back at him briefly, then climbed out the window, 'Your sleepwalker will walk through your dreams...'
The End
next