The Unforgiven

Note:  Text enclosed in <   > represents thoughts or feelings. 
 

 "Look what I caught!"  Drea smirked at Willow, awaiting her response with eager anticipation.

 Willow glanced at Drea and deliberated on the appropriate answer to her challenge.  The Slayer never received her reply.  The vampire's arm caught fire and the child howled in pain and terror.  Indecision paralyzed Willow for a split second.  It went against every ingrained instinct to invite an unknown, and hence untrustworthy, vampire into the Watcher Headquarters.  Later she would regret and reproach herself for the hesitation.  It nearly cost the girl her life.

 Thomas suddenly appeared, manifesting out of nowhere like a ghost.  He bent and grabbed the girl even as Willow extended her own hands.  "Come on," Thomas grunted, hauling the girl into the entryway.  His make shift invitation worked and the child did not encounter resistance.  Willow hurried to follow.  <Stupid!  Allowing myself to become distracted by Drea!>

 Drea's teeth snapped with displeasure.

 Thomas dumped the vampire on the entryway floor and followed her to the ground.  Willow knelt beside the girl as Thomas whipped off his coat and tossed it over the flames.  She assisted him in smothering the fire and silently thanked her lucky stars as it died.  Another few seconds would have reduced the vampire to dust.  <It's a good thing Thomas stayed to help us search for Drea this morning!  If he'd left when his shift was up, she would have died!>

 Once the fire was out, Thomas pulled the charred ruins on his jacket off of the girl.  Thankfully, the child had passed out from the pain and did not appear to be suffering.  Thoughtfully, Willow leaned forward to examine her more closely.  <God, but she's tiny.  I haven't seen one this young in years.  Eleven, maybe twelve years old.>

 Her age shocked Willow.  As a rule, vampires did not turn children.  It was not unheard of, but neither were children preferential progeny.  Such young victims were always heart wrenching.  Willow had long ago grown accustomed to seeing adults turned, but it broke her heart every time they lost a child to the darkness.  She hoped that she never grew so jaded that the death of a child did not hurt.  <So much potential and innocence lost.  Life cut short before it's even begun.  It just isn't right.>

 The poor girl weighed no more than eighty pounds and looked so slight that a strong breeze would have blown her away.  In the brighter light of the hallway, Willow could barely distinguish that she was at least partially black.  Her unscorched skin was a cream-laden coffee color and the ends of her curly hair were singed, barely distinguishable from the lusterless black of the rest.  She wasn't attractive or ugly, merely plain. 

 The severity of her injuries concerned Willow deeply.  Nasty burns on her face and arms were beginning to blister and redden.  Blood oozed from the open wounds.  She needed blood and medical attention.  For a split second Willow considered giving the girl some of her own blood but then discarded the idea immediately.  <Can't take the chance.  The baby needs all of my strength.>

 Drea shifted impatiently tired of waiting.  "Well, aren't you going to ask who she is?" the Slayer whined.  Her voice carried a childish, demanding quaver; she wanted attention and she wanted it now.  Willow suppressed an outburst of irritation and ignored her, refusing to reward her rebellious and disobedient Slayer.  A girl young enough to be her daughter would not bait her.  <*Is* my daughter, in a sort of spiritual figurative sense.>

 Drea never ceased her efforts to provoke a response from her elders.  She tested the adults in her life at every opportunity, constantly vying for attention.  Willow knew that giving Drea recognition for poor behavior was the worst thing she could do, but sometimes it was difficult not to snap at her.  Losing her temper would only serve to reinforce and validate misbehavior as a means of gaining attention in the Slayer's mind.  Worse, it would give Drea power over Willow and make their long-term relationship even more difficult.  Drea was the most difficult Slayer that Willow had dealt with since Faith.  <Gives me a whole new appreciation of what Giles went through with Buffy.>

 Faith was an unpleasant memory.  Her second freshly called Slayer had been her greatest failure as Immortal Watcher.  Even the memory made her shudder.  Hurriedly, Willow turned her attention back to the injured vampire.  She would deal with Drea later, after she'd had time to calm down and think things through.  Thankfully, the girl remained unconscious, oblivious to the pain and Willow's scrutiny.  <Who is she?  And why did Drea bring her home?>

 "Kindred?"

 Startled, Willow glanced up at Thomas.  Her eyes held a question.  "She's breathing," he replied, indicating the vampire's chest.  "Deeply, not just the conditioned reflex of the Newly Arisen." 

 Thomas was right.  Willow studied the girl closely and had to agree.  She bent in closer and touched the child's neck, finding a pulse.  Her heartbeat was weak but definitively present.  A quick aura reading revealed that all of the magical spells, which enabled the Kindred to mimic life, were firmly in place.  <Yep, definitely Kindred.>

 "Her third finger is longer than the others."  Thomas indicated the vampire's hand and then moved on to her jaw.  "And she bears a distinctive raspberry birthmark on the lower left side of her jaw.  Combined with her coloring, I'd say that she is from the Asanti branch of the Family," he continued to rattle off analytically.  Willow couldn't keep the blank surprise from her face.  <When on earth did Thomas become an expert on the Kindred?>

 Drea clicked her tongue, annoyed at having her thunder stolen by a doorman. "Drea, do you have something to add?" Willow demanded with more than a touch of impatience coloring her tone.

 The Slayer made a production of shrugging.  "She claims to be Kindred.  I'm not supposed to slay our allies."  She sniggered sarcastically.  "So I took her prisoner in case she was lying."  It went unsaid that she had deliberately taken her own sweet time about bringing the Kindred back to headquarters.  Due to Drea's selfishness, the child had suffered heinous and unnecessary injuries.  Willow had no tolerance for such cruelty.  <I *won't* have it!  Drea and I are going to have a *long* talk later.>

 "Willow, did you hear me?"  A hint of nervousness crept into the Slayer's voice.  Reading the disapproval in Willow's manner, Drea knew that she had crossed the line and was in far more trouble than she had bargained for.  Willow nodded, finally acknowledging Drea.  <She sounds scared.  Good, maybe she'll think about what she's done before we talk.  She's a good girl, but thoughtless.  She just doesn't stop to think about the consequences of her actions, about other people's feelings.>

 Willow's puzzled gaze never wavered from Thomas.  The doorman looked up and caught her staring at him.  Suddenly, he looked very self-conscious.  "Asanti was Tanya Boyle's maiden name before her marriage to Sean Boyle in 1968."  He trailed off looking uncomfortable and swallowed.  "Tanya who tried to kill you," he added unnecessarily.

 "I know who Tanya was," Willow replied distantly.  <And she tried to do far worse than kill me!>

 "Right."  Thomas looked away and then stood up.  Willow sensed extreme discomfort emanating from him.  He wanted to get away from her, fearing that she might pick up something telepathically that he wanted to keep hidden.  Given his sordid past, that fear made Willow nervous.  She trusted Thomas implicitly, but he had not always been the nicest person.  Mentally, she added him to her list of people to speak with later.  <Angel, Drea, Thomas.  And of course, I'll have to contact Guillaume about the girl.>

 "Come on, Drea," Thomas ordered.  "There's some bagged blood in the fridge.  The chef stockpiled some for Angel, but he doesn't need it right now.  You can help me carry."  The doorman rushed off in a hurry, not looking to see if the Slayer bothered to obey.  To Willow's growing amazement, her recalcitrant Slayer followed her doorman off without so much as a peep.  Lucy, standing silently by, looked after the pair and then back to Willow.  Indecision played across her expressive features before she finally fell into step behind Thomas and Drea.  Looking far younger than her twenty-four years, the Watcher hastily *scooted* after them.

 Willow stared after the retreating trio, seriously tempted to follow, but someone needed to stay with the vampire and monitor her condition.  Thomas had been quite correct in assessing that the girl needed blood, but issuing orders was simply unlike him.  He rarely, if ever, took charge of anything.  The doorman was more like Angel than anyone else she knew, preferring to lurk quietly in the background, always a follower or a loner.  <Weird.>

 Willow shook her head.  Life kept getting stranger.  Of course, she had been aware that Drea and Thomas had formed a sort of casual friendship.  Lucy was Drea's Watcher.  Wherever Lucy went, Thomas could invariably be found somewhere close by.  Hence, Thomas, by default, spent a lot of time with the Slayer.  <I'd love to know what's going on there!  I've been out of town *way* too much lately.  I have got to talk to Thomas about whether he's got some secret way of getting Drea to respect him!>

 Drea's antics were something Willow had come to expect, but Thomas' fear of telepathic trespass was a whole new problem that caught her off-guard.  He knew her better than that.  Willow never intentionally violated the privacy of her people.  She would have to investigate later.  It was likely that this sudden paranoia on his part was indicative of a much deeper problem.  <Thomas is easily the most loyal member of my staff.  I hope that this isn't something that can't be resolved.>

 Subtly was called for.  Telepathy might be off-limits but Willow was not above a little bit of verbal poking and prying.  With the right encouragement, people could be prompted to say what they were thinking easily enough.  <I wonder what exactly that comment about Angel not needing blood meant?  Is he guessing or does he have some other insight?  That's certainly not something that Angel shares with just anyone!  Especially someone that he's only just met.> 

 The vampire stirred slightly, moaning with pain.  Willow placed a comforting hand on the child's forehead and used a small spell to chill the air about her.  The cool air would relieve some of her discomfort.  <Speaking of prying.  What should I do with her?  Technically, she's an ally, but she's also a potential threat.  I should check her out.>  She debated for a moment but ultimately, the welfare of her people came before anything else.  Willow hesitated and then lowered her mental shields.  <Just keep it quick and impersonal.  In and out, just enough to make sure that she's not a spy.  Or an assassin.!!  *Snort!*>

 Willow kept her initial scan shallow, allowing it to deepen as she processed the information flowing to her in a disordered jumble.  The girl's mind lacked the coherence and order of consciousness.  Her name was Penny, Penny Asanti.  Willow sighed.  She had hoped that the girl wasn't related to Tanya.  <Oh well.  Let's see.  She's thirteen, embraced six months ago.  Penny hadn't even been born when Tanya died.  Dammit, this doesn't make any sense.  Guillaume would never permit a girl this age to be turned.  She hasn't even had children.>

 Other irrelevant details about Penny's personality and personal life came to her.  Willow did her best to ignore the information that did not directly pertain to her vampiric condition in an attempt to respect her privacy in some way.  It took some sorting but gradually she sank deeper into the girl's mind.  Finally, she stopped as she encountered natural mental blocks surrounding the memories of the girl's Embrace.  <Dead-end.  I'm going to have to force my way in to get what I need.  Damn but I *hate* this part of the job.>

 Willow tested the block and sensed a severe trauma underlying the scar tissue.  She despised intruding further but it was necessary.  Casting aside her reservations, Willow extended her mental probe past the trauma blocks.  She did so with the precision of a skilled surgeon, making a small incision and delicately bypassing the block.  <If I do this right, she won't even know that I've been here.>

 Bad memories hit her with the force of a wall of water.

 Cold, dark, suffocating.  Surrounded by soil.  Panic.  Fear.

 Fighting, struggling, clawing her way to the surface.

 Penny's mother, screaming, fighting.

 The sweet rush of blood, assuaging her terrible thirst...

 "Mama, Mama, Mama wake up, please wake up."

 Rough hands on her shoulders.

 A man: leather duster, twitching cigarette, short white hair.

 "Let her be, Luv.  I'm your daddy now."

 Spike.

 Terror surged through Penny as Willow's intrusion freed the buried, malignant memories of her own death.  Unknowingly, the Immortal Watcher's curious probe broke the kind salve of amnesia that had been numbing the girl's pain.  Realizing what she had done, Willow desperately tried to repair the damage but it was too late.  The dam of amnesia dislodged, freeing a torrent of hysteria. 

 Penny sat up, screaming at the top of her lungs.  Caught up in a vicious feedback loop, Willow joined her.  Pain and panic bordering on insanity brought them both to the edge of reason.  Together, they teetered and then plunged over into a maelstrom of madness.

 Drea stood behind Thomas while he rummaged through the refrigerator, accepting bags of donated blood as he handed them to her.  Her shoulders stooped and her head hung, much like a guilty puppy, as she tried to be as inconspicuous as possible.  The Slayer knew that the condemning silence from Lucy and Thomas was not a coincidence, and no one ever made her feel as guilty as Willow did.  The Immortal Watcher was the Patron Saint of Motherhood.

 She had not meant to actually hurt the Kindred girl.  She had only meant to scare the little twit.  Instead, she had hurt someone weaker than herself, just like a bully.  That was exactly what was supposed to prevent.  In doing so, she had lowered herself to the same level as those she fought.

 "Andrea," Lucy said sternly.  The Slayer gulped.  Here it came.  "Do you know what cruelty is?" her Watcher asked carefully.

 "Yes," Drea squeaked, feeling as small as she possibly could.

 Lucy considered her next words carefully.  Thomas closed the refrigerator and stood idly by as the brunette thought about what to say next.  His eyes cherished the lovely Watcher with devotion that Lucy never noticed and no one else could possibly fail to.  Finally, after what seemed an eternity to the young Slayer, Lucy chose her words.  As the Watcher's lips parted, sharp piercing screams shattered the peace of the house.

 Thomas reacted first.  "Willow!" he exclaimed, dropping the blood and breaking into a sprint.  The thick plastic bags bounced but did not break as they hit the floor.  Then he stepped on one of the bags as he began to run.  It burst under the pressure, spraying red fluid everywhere.  Thomas left a track of bloody footprints across the kitchen floor.  It was his path forward into an uncertain future.

 Drea and Lucy followed fast on his heels.