Worlds Away: Chapter 2
by daedreams
Chapter 2
Xander slowly opened his eye. "Is it over?" Everyone in the room was wide-eyed and breathless. Willow had let go of Xander's hands and was slumped back against Kennedy. "Did it work?"
Willow raised her head and grinned at Xander. "Yeah, it worked."
"Not that I don't trust you implicitly, Wills, but...how do you know?"
"I can feel it. A rip was created through time and space. Caleb was pulled through it and sent to Pylea - oh!"
Dawn looked alarmed. "What ‘oh?’ Don't say ‘oh.’ Saying ‘oh’ all surprised like that is not good after magic."
"No, it's just that...well, we sent him away, sure, but I..," Willow turned to Kennedy and Giles, "I think we brought something here."
Everyone groaned.
~~~~
Mal stood in the middle of the street, not really sure which what to do next. There was a bench on the sidewalk to his left, so he walked over and sat down.
"Okay. I was on the ship. I felt River nearby. Then I'm here." He took a heavy breath. "Nope. I got nothing. Okay. I was on the ship. I felt River nearby. Then I'm here. Is this River? Did she make something happen? Can she do that?"
A rumbling sound was heard in the distance. It was getting steadily louder. Then to his right, a compact two-wheeled mule came around the corner ridden by a white haired man in a leather coat. Mal got up and stepped to the edge of the sidewalk. He flung his coat open and hooked his thumbs into the loops of his trousers, trying to project a image of openness. He may not know where he was, but that weren't no reason to come off as un-neighborly to the locals.
When the man saw Mal, he lost control of his mule momentarily. He steadied himself quickly, however, then steered to his left slightly and plotted a course directly toward Mal. As the man approached, the mule sped up, then shortly Mal could see the expression on the man's face. It was pure anger.
Gettin’ the distinct feeling that this gentleman doesn't like my being here. Mal changed his stance. He brought his hands to his sides, spread his legs a little and tried to develop a quick plan.
Just before the mule reached him, Mal darted to his left and held out his right arm, expecting to clothesline the guy. This man, however, had some pretty incredible reflexes. He managed to duck down far enough to avoid the outstretched arm. Then he jumped off the mule, without stopping it, and turned to face Mal. The entire move was quick and smooth, and Mal gave himself a moment to be impressed before he had to start fighting for his life.
Then the guy attacked. Pushed Mal to the ground, pounced on him and just started punching. This guy was strong. Brutal strong. The freakish white-haired man was straddling Mal, pinning him to the ground and just laying in with the punches, right and left.
Mal raised an arm to hit back, but another fist would land on him before he could make contact. It was the most one-sided beating that he had ever been on the wrong side of. Mal was getting crushed here, and he couldn’t make it stop. He felt panic rise up in him for the first time in…he couldn’t remember when. Serenity Valley? Book…, his mind started to wander.
Then the blows stopped. Mal laid there catching his breath and suppressed the thoughts of the war and his preacher friend as quickly as they had surfaced in his brain. He wrenched his right eye open, the left seemed to not want to budge. The man was looking at him, his bloodied right fist held high in the air in a frozen downswing. The man seemed angry and confused. Mal tried to get the same emotion to spread across his own face, but he wasn’t sure he could move any of the muscles in his face.
Suddenly, the man jumped up, glaring down at Mal. “You’re not fightin’ back,” he pointed out needlessly.
Mal made a couple of moaning noises to see is his vocal cords were going to work, then answered, “Well, if you’d give me a chance, you freak. Not very polite to just starting wailing on a guy.”
The man cocked his head. “You’re not him, are you? Bloody well look like him, you do.” He brought his own fist up to his mouth and licked the blood on it. Mal grimaced. “Human. One hundred percent.”
Mal made an attempt to get up off the ground and failed miserably, plopping back down on his butt. He looked back up as his attacker. “Human? As opposed to what?” He caught his breath and tried to push himself up again. When he wobbled, a strong hand caught him under the arm and lifted him easily to a standing position.
“As opposed to an evil-infused super strong preacher-man.”
“Oh, well, I can see how you could have gotten me confused,” Mal spat back casually before finally getting in one quick punch to the jaw that turned the man’s head slightly, but clearly did absolutely no damage. “Tzao gao,” he mumbled.
The man laughed a little, then helpfully guided Mal to the bench on the sidewalk. Mal let himself be sat down. He fumbled in his pocket for a handkerchief, then leaned back and started dabbing his mouth and eyes. Each time he brought the cloth away from his face, new and interesting blood patterns appeared on it.
The man sat down beside Mal and lit a cigarette. He wiped his knuckles on his jeans and stole a glance at Mal. “I think you’re nose is broken.”
“Helpful observation, thanks.” Mal gave up on his face and threw the blood-soaked handkerchief on the ground. He closed his eyes and tired to process the situation.
“Listen, mate, I’m sorry for beating you up. You really do look like him, though.”
“Yeah, whatever. I just want to get back to my ship. Don’t suppose you can tell me where I am, and how I can back to Serenity?”
“Don’t know where you are, do you? Well, I’m sorry you’re having a tough time, but if you’re looking for some kind of peace of mind, then I’m doubtful I’d be one to help you find it.”
“Pal, I haven’t had peace of mind since years before the war. I was talking about my ship. Serenity. I was there, mindin’ my own, then suddenly I’m planet-side, not knowin’ which planet, and you’re beating the crap outta me. This has got to be River. She must be in my head somehow. Or maybe Alliance. This some kind of payback for spilling all their dirty little secrets? Hell, I need to get back to my crew.” Mal turned his head toward the man and almost smirked at the look on his face. Bafflement is the only word he could think of to describe it.
“Right then. Whoever you are, you’re clearly insane. Listen, I’ve got someplace to be, an important message to pass on. Normally, I’d be leavin’ you here to fix your own head, but considerin’ that I did that to your face, then why don’t you come with me. I know people who can patch you up.” The man looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, more to himself than to Mal, “Course, this may take a little explaining and figuring out. Bloody hell, we don’t have time for this.”
He then grasped Mal by the arm and pulled him violently over to the mule which had come to a rest on its side a few feet away. The man righted it with one hand, let go of Mal, and straddled the mule. He turned over the engine and scooted forward on the seat.
“Hop on, then. I’ve got a team of people who will be just dying to meet you.”
Mal’s head was swimming. Pain was starting to register in all the muscles of his face. He didn’t know where he was. For all he knew, his crew could be in grave danger. The man who, just a few minutes ago, was on the verge of beating him to death, was now offering a ride to some people whom he claimed could offer medical help. His options were slim.
Mal held out his hand. “Name’s Mal. Capt Malcolm Reynolds.”
The man looked at Mal’s outstretched hand for a moment before taking it in his and giving it one quick pump and release. “Spike.”
~~~~
On the way to wherever they were going, Mal passed out with his head resting on the back of Spike’s leather jacket. When he came to, they were stopping in front of a well-appointed house, surrounded by other well-appointed houses in a neighborhood of trees and comfort. It was unlike any homestead that he had ever seen. The houses were close together like those on central planets. But the warm colors and the laziness of the architecture reminded him of the farm houses that he grew up around. He could tell that these homes were all about family. Only there was no family around. No noises, no children, no grandfolks on porch swings. It was completely empty.
Mal got off the mule and started following Spike up the walk to the house, whose inside looked like it was lit by candlelight. The rest of homes were completely pitch black. “What happened here?”
Spike turned around. “What do you mean?”
Mal gestured around the neighborhood. “No lights. No electricity.”
Looking around in confusion, like he hadn’t noticed, Spike shrugged, “Guess the power went out,” then continued up the walk. He paused at the door and allowed Mal to catch up. “Listen, mate, you may not be welcomed very warmly at first.”
Mal reached up and touched his face, “Yeah, had that experience.”
“Just let me do the talking, okay?”
“Sure.”
Spike took a deep breath and walked into the house. Mal followed close behind, stumbling once over the threshold. He continued through a dining area and stopped beside Spike at the entrance to a kitchen, in which several people were gathered. The majority of them were very young girls, around River’s age, perhaps a little older. There was one middle-aged gentleman who was chatting with a red-head. Some of the folks were eating, some were preparing foods, others were just sitting around talking.
“I’m back,” Spike announced, catching everyone’s attention. He held up his hands, palms out and continued, “First of all, nobody panic-”
Then the room panicked. The first reaction came from a young man with a bandage covering his left eye. He had been sitting on a stool at the central counter, but when he saw Mal, he jumped back and fell square on his ass on the ground. A blond woman was immediately by his side.
Two of the very young girls in the room screamed. A commotion was heard from overhead, sounding like a herd of cattle in a stampede. Then Mal was pinned up against a door, being beaten in the face again. He tried to push this new attacker away and realized that it was one of the girls. A long haired brunette who seemed to be as strong Spike.
The girl was pulled away quickly, and Mal heard Spike say, “Back off, Slayer, let me explain, would ya?”
A dignified male voice asked, “Faith, what are you doing? Who is this man?”
Both the brunette, Faith apparently, and the man with the injured eye replied, “Caleb,” at which point the older man stepped up and punched Spike.
“You evil bastard! I knew we couldn’t trust you,” the man growled out while shaking the ineffectual hit out of his hand.
“Would everyone just calm down for one bloody minute and let me explain!” Spike screamed out as Mal collapsed to the floor.
Mal let his eyes wander around the room. Spike was struggling to hold back the Faith girl, who had tried to lunge toward Mal again. The middle-aged man was glaring at Spike. The other girls in the room were looking terrified and had put themselves in a fighting stance, even though there was a large kitchen counter between himself and them. The one-eyed man was shaking in the arms of the woman who had come to his aid. From the two doorways to the room he could see several, perhaps a dozen, other very young girls gathered, shoving each other to get a view of what was happening in the kitchen.
“Slayer, would you please just relax,” Spike was saying to Faith, “It’s not Caleb. Can’t you feel it?” He turned toward the red-head. “Red, you can feel it, can’t you? This man is not evil. He’s human. Not Caleb.”
The red-head stepped forward and placed a hand on Faith, calming her enough that Spike could let go. “Faith, he’s right. Whatever Caleb is, this man is not.”
Everyone looked very confused. The young man on the floor was still shaking.
“Okay, then,” Spike said, straightening his leather coat, “Now, where’s Buffy. He have to have a discussion. Oh, and can somebody get the first-aid kit. Mal here could use some patching up.”
Red knelt down in front of Mal and looked closely at his face. She looked back at another girl, “Kennedy, would you hand me the kit.” Turning back to him she asked, “How’d you get hurt?”
At that point, Spike cleared his throat and timidly raised his hand, “Yeah, that would be my fault.” He shrugged. “Thought he was the preacher.”
“Good call, man,” the one-eyed guy said.
Kennedy squatted down next to Red, opened a med-kit and began cleaning Mal’s face.
“So, where’s Buffy?” Spike was saying. “We have to deal with this guy, sure, but I’ve got some useful info from my little mission.” The other people in the room started shifting around uncomfortably, some of the girls in the doorways began to move away. Kennedy dabbed something on Mal’s face that stung and caused him to flinch back. With no apology, she rubbed more on other parts of his face.
Red stood up slowly and turned toward Spike. “Well, you see, while you were gone, we all got together and talked out some disagreements…” **(see footnote)
~~~~
Later, everybody had moved into a living area. After Red, whose name turned out to be Willow, had given a little speech to Spike about some girl named Buffy, some serious violence had broken out, and Mal was just grateful that none of it had involved him. Instead, Spike and Faith had an extremely destructive knock-down drag-out fight that ended in Spike’s immediate departure.
This, of course, left Mal alone in a house filled with dozens of strangers who kept giving him angry side-glances and questioning looks. Eventually, he was seated in an uncomfortable chair in the larger living space. The Faith girl was straddled in a backwards chair glaring at him while Willow asked questions.
Mal cooperated. He quickly figured out that these people had nothing to do with the Alliance, and in fact, had no idea who the Alliance were. He asked how far out from the central planets they were and was greeted with just weird looks, causing Mal’s question, “What planet is this?”
“What planet?” Willow’s eyes narrowed. “You mean what dimension? This is earth. The planet Earth.”
“Earth? Earth-That-Was? Nobody lives on Earth. We destroyed it. It’s uninhabitable. That’s why we left.”
“Okay, let’s start from the beginning. You’re name is Malcolm Reynolds.”
“Captain Reynolds.”
“Right. Captain. Captain of what, exactly? You military? Navy? Marines? Initiative?”
“Was a sergeant in the war. Now I captain a ship. Serenity. Firefly class.”
“And you were on this ship just before you appeared here. What? Out on the water somewhere?”
“Water? No. Space. Spaceship. Serenity is a Firefly class transport spaceship.”
Just then a small blond-haired boy that Mal hadn’t noticed before materialized by his side, looking very excited. “A spaceship! You came from outer space? Are you an alien? What war were you in? Did you battle against the evil Empire? Did you help destroy the Death Star?”
Faith and Willow both rolled their eyes and groaned, “Shut up, Andrew.”
Willow turned to the kid impatiently and said, “Reality - fiction. Let’s not lose focus okay, geek-boy.” Andrew hung his head and backed away into the shadows again.
“He’s the price,” came a voice from the couch. Everyone turned and looked toward the one-eyed man.
“Xander?” Willow questioned.
“The trade. Don’t you get it? We sent Caleb away, and this is what we got in return.” Xander rolled his eyes at everyone’s surprised look. “Oh, come on, people. This is not that hard to figure out. Willow, you said that you sent Caleb to another dimension, but it was also another time in that dimension, too, right?”
“Yeah. Sending him to Pylea during this time wouldn’t be very much of a punishment. Apparently, that world has started working together to build better communities and less prejudice. I sent Caleb to a past Pylea, in which all humans were slaves and treated like animals.”
“Right. You sent Caleb to a past dimension. But somehow, you also managed to grab this guy, who has a face that I had pictured in my head, and send him to a past dimension. Only it’s his past.”
Andrew spoke up from the shadows. “He’s from the future. Cool.”
Xander continued, “But not our future. An alternate reality future.”
Mal was doing his best to follow the conversation. But it was just a little too much to handle. “You people are all crazy, you know that, right?”
The older gentleman, who name was Giles, stepped forward. “I can understand why you would think that, Captain. But the fact is that you are here. And this is not your world, correct.”
“Based on the freakishly powerful strength that you people seem to have, I would have to say that this is some kind of different planet that I‘ve never heard of. Maybe Alliance did something to the taraforming here, too.”
The blond by Xander’s side helpfully chimed in, “We’re not all super strong. Just the two people who, you know, beat you up.”
“I see. Lucky me.”
Kennedy stepped behind Willow and rested a hand on her shoulder. “So, Wills, we need to get the Captain here back to where he belongs.”
“Well, I suppose, but we need to gather the ingredients again. We used up what we had.”
“That’s a problem,” Andrew stated, stepping into the light of the living room again. “We pretty much cleaned out the Magic Box on that last trip. And it‘s not like we can be placing internet orders at this point.”
Giles removed his eye glasses, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and started cleaning them. “There’s a bigger issue, as well. It may not be as simple as sending the Captain back. If we open the same rip that we did last time, then we may also unwittingly retrieve Caleb.”
Xander shot his hand in the air dramatically. “I vote a big no on that one.”
Faith got up out of her chair. “Here’s what gonna happen. We’re gonna execute the Bringer plan. With whatever info we get from him, we’ll figure out how to take out The First.” She turned to Mal. “I’m sorry, buddy, but we don’t have time to deal with you right now, and we can’t risk bringing your evil twin back into the mix.”
“You folks obviously have some kind of battle strategy going on, and I certainly don’t want to get in your way,” Mal told her. “But I’ve got my own people to worry about. I’m not just going to sit around here while you go fight your war. Now, why don’t y’all just point me in the direction of the closest docking station and I’ll find my own transport outta here.”
“Uh!” Faith threw up her hands. She pointed at the small blond. “Andrew, you deal with this. Everyone else, come one. We have a job to do.” There was a commotion as Faith’s crew divided up into rooms throughout the rest of the house. When only Andrew and Mal were left, the boy sat in the chair Faith had vacated.
“So, Captain, tell me,” Andrew sounded giddy, “what’s it really like traveling at warp speed?”
~~~~
Meanwhile on Pylea…
“The purest Evil will rise up from Hell and devour your souls! He will feast on your living flesh and the puddle of muscle and bone that is left will cower at feet as I stand at the arm of the ruler of all demons!"
These were the last words that Caleb spoke before they cut out his tongue.
To be continued...
** Footnote: This is a direct quote from Ep. 7.20, "Touched." It’s the beginning of Willow’s explanation to Spike about why Buffy’s not there.
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