Chapter 18: Visions
Disclaimer: The characters, Sunnydale, the high school, etc, etc don't belong to me.
~
Twenty minutes later, Buffy jerked her head up abruptly, struggling to stifle another yawn. She glanced around blearily, not focusing on the endless monotone droning from the teacher, but rather on its effects on the rest of the class.
Buffy cracked a smile, seeing Willow dutifully scribbling down notes. Her gaze passed over Oz, who was still throwing occasional glances over at Willow, his small smile mirroring her own. Xander had his head down on his desk, snoring lightly, the sound blending in perfectly with Baldy’s lecture.
Angel hadn’t changed positions at all, still staring blankly ahead, as if lost in thought. Amy was waving her hands around unobtrusively under her desk, muttering what sounded like Latin. Buffy glanced back at her, but Amy quickly turned to face her and Buffy looked away again. When Buffy turned and scanned the other side of the room, she caught a smirk and wink from Parker, which she didn’t return.
Finding nothing to capture her attention for too long, Buffy began drifting off again, dozing slightly as she rested her head down and briefly closed her eyes.
Five minutes later, Buffy had fallen into a deep, almost unnatural sleep. Nobody in the class noticed, and the lesson went on.
~
Darkness surrounded Buffy, and for a moment she panicked, wondering where she was. She heard some movement, far off to the right, and cautiously began moving towards it. As she approached, the shadows fell away, leaving her in a large, unfamiliar room.
Standing in the corner, Buffy looked around. There were a couple large bookshelves, filled with ancient tomes that nevertheless seemed to be used often. A table in the center, a chair on either side, had a few scrolls and a common looking, modern notebook on it that contrasted strongly with the medieval air of everything else. It seemed unreal, yet strangely comforting, even familiar.
Sounds came from the back of the room, where there was a doorway, leading into a smaller office. From it, two people emerged. A lanky, dark-haired girl walked out quickly, followed at a much slower pace by a middle-aged man with glasses, who looked distinctly British.
Alarmed, Buffy backed herself against the opposite wall, only to give a surprised squeak when she nearly fell backwards through the wall. Right, of course. Creepy dreamland, trademark incorporeallyness.
Buffy was very sure now that this was a dream, and felt no compulsion at all to wake from it. Everything felt so real, with surround-sound and all.
She tentatively inched her way closer to the two people, who had now taken seats at the table.
The man spoke first. “Faith, you have to understand, you say this still all feels new to you, but you have been doing your duty for a little over a year now, and quite well I might add. A-and I think when you first entered into this, you were quite- quite clear on, the, ah, well, what could potentially occur, regarding your, well—“
The man nervously broke off his spiel, choosing instead to meticulously polish his glasses with his sleeve, clearly avoiding the issue he’d been about to broach.
Faith was looking stonily at the man, her body tense. Then, she abruptly leaned back in the chair, letting out a snort. “So this is it, huh Ricky? You think this—Kakistos dude or whatever, that he’s gonna do me in, and that’s it? This is what I get, my oh-so-wonderful Watcher’s stuttering goodbye? Man, I thought you were better than them, Ricky—“
The Watcher looked up, replacing his glasses. “Merrick, Faith,” he corrected, his voice showing no signs of annoyance but rather a drained weariness, a result of a recent week’s stress about the impending doom that faced his charge.
Faith rolled her eyes, standing up quickly. “Ok, Merrick, just tell me what’s so special about this vamp, and I’ll go dust him and show you that one stupid vamp is not going to be the end of me. Seriously, have some faith.”
Merrick got up as well, and the two headed for the other door. “Uh, of course, quite right Faith, I’ll brief you on his history later, but Kakistos is an ancient vampire, and he is inconceivably dangerous. The prophecy indicated that—“
Faith held up a hand as they reached the door, cutting him off. “I don’t want the prophecy shit, Ricky. Just give me the facts. Can I stake this dude, or does he have some special vampy powers that come with being wicked old?”
Merrick opened the door, and Buffy followed the two out into a dim hallway.
Merrick answered, “A regular stake will not be sufficient. However, staking will dust him, as will beheading. According to the Council, he is very lazy and usually has minions doing the dirty work for him, but this time we have ascertained that he is indeed determined to carry out the prophecy we unearthed and,” Merrick continued, raising his voice when Faith was about to interrupt, “and as it stands, we must take all precautions and assume the worst. My precise calculations have led me to believe that Kakistos will not act out until tomorrow night…”
Faith laughed. “What a fitting end. Kakistos wants to die on Friday the 13th. I promise I won’t disappoint.”
Merrick snapped angrily, “Seriously, now, Faith! Can’t you see what’s going to happen? I-I don’t see how you can be so---so naïve about all of this! You’re standing here cracking jokes, as if—“
Merrick gasped as Faith spun around and slammed him against the wall. Also yelling now, Faith asked, “As if what?! As if you’re cracked-up, sick, twisted prophecy gets the last say in this? As if I’m just going to go out tomorrow like a good little girl, and do what it says? That tomorrow night I die? This isn’t funny anymore, Merrick. And no, I’m not joking. You’ll see. I can’t force you to have a bit of confidence in me, even though you’ve been the only one that’s really been here, and seen me this entire year—I will not die tomorrow!”
Faith’s voice finally cracked and she let go of Merrick, turning and sprinting away.
Merrick stood up slowly, staring after her, making no move to follow. The desperate, helpless expression he’d had before was gone, and his face was now set in grim determination. To himself, he whispered, “No, you won’t die, not if I can help it. I’ll be there tomorrow night. I’ll be with you to the end.”
~
Mr. Balbert finished talking, and Willow glanced over her notes happily, finishing up and putting them neatly into her binder. She took comfort in the pure, normal schooly-ness of the past forty-five minutes, which put her in a considerably better mood than before. The whole day had been a rollercoaster of events that had left her in serious need of some, well, normalcy.
Five minutes later, Balbert began assigning partners for a new project, and soon everyone was standing up, changing seats temporarily to sit next to their partners. Xander woke up just as his name was called, yawned, and blinked blearily at his very-awake partner, who had moved into the seat next to him. Anya.
Willow wasn’t too happy they were doing a partner project. She always got the worst partners, and she did all the work anyway. When the teacher called out, “Rosenburg and Summers,” Willow smiled brightly, quickly moving over next to Buffy. Having a friend as her partner for a history project was an exciting and new prospect.
She frowned slightly as she turned to Buffy and found her to be fast asleep.
Glancing up at the teacher and seeing that he was oblivious to this fact, Willow leaned over and nudged her slightly. “Buffy? Buffy, wake up.”
Another five minutes later, Balbert had left the classroom to print some papers, and Buffy still hadn’t woken up. Willow had given up nudging and whispering, since most of the class had already seen Buffy sleeping, and had snickered, then turned back to their work.
Willow nervously began working on an outline of their project while eyeing Buffy. It just didn’t seem normal. You could hardly tell she was breathing, and Willow still thought of Buffy as someone who wouldn’t let herself sleep through an entire class.
With five minutes of class left to go, Balbert returned and distributed the homework they had to do, in addition to having the project turned in by Monday.
Willow packed up her bag. Seeing that the class was millilng around now, just waiting for the bell to ring, she waved Xander over.
Xander broke off the strangely amusing conversation he was having with Anya when he saw Willow gesturing for him to come over. With a slight apology, he made his way to where Willow was standing next to Buffy’s desk.
“Xander, this isn’t normal—“
“She’s sleeping, Wills. It’s a time-honored tradition in history cl—“
“No, Xander, I think she’s seriously been sleeping like this the entire class, and I tried to wake her up and everything and I bet if I yelled in her ear now she still wouldn’t wake up because look how deeply she’s sleeping and it’s almost like, like she’s—“
“Um, breathe, Will…yeah, I see what you mean, but lemme test that yelling theory first…”
A now worried Xander prepared to yell in Buffy’s ear, but an equally edgy Willow quickly grabbed his arm to stop him.
“Uh, Xander, I don’t know if bloodcurdling screams are your best bet right now.” Willow jerked her head slightly, and Xander followed her gaze over to where Baldy was squinting suspiciously at them.
“Oh, uh right…” Xander looked helplessly down at Buffy. Then promptly jumped, letting out a loud “Gah!” in surprise, as Buffy sat up with a gasp.
Buffy felt as if she was thrown from her dream. She could remember every detail of it vividly. When she woke up, Buffy almost passed out again, as a blinding headache blurred her vision. Buffy tried frantically to get out of her desk.
Willow and Xander hurried to the other side of the desk as Buffy stood up, and then fell down.
The bell chose that opportune moment to ring, and the class stampeded out.
At a much slower pace behind them, Xander put an arm around Buffy and helped her to the door, while Willow packed Buffy’s backpack and picked it up, following the two out.
~
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