The Wind Beyond the Walls of the
Mind
Chapter 13
"I will surely find another . . ."
by Gaius Petronius
DISCLAIMER:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all the characters that appear on
the show are the exclusive property of Joss Whedon, the WB, Fox
and Mutant Enemy, Inc. This story can be read on its own or as
a sequel to H. P. Lovecraft's "The Haunter of the Dark"
from which the Ancient Ones, the Shining Trapezohedron and the
character of Robert Blake are derived.
The Wind Beyond the Walls of the Mind is set
roughly in mid-season four shortly following the death of Doyle
but before the creation of Adam and the death of Maggie Walsh.
This part is rated PG-13 for some raunchy language.
* * * * * * *
Darkness hung like an ancient shroud all around
Faith. She struggled, unable to see any features or landmarks
but only the same deep, impenetrable emptiness everywhere. For
a moment, Faith imagined she was floating in the inky blackness
surrounding her as she groped her way now backward now forward.
Fully dressed in her leather jacket and pants with a white blouse,
she finally realized that she was, indeed, standing firmly upright
and able to move any way she chose. Her eyes, glowing with their
natural rich brown color, were wide open as she searched for any
recognizable features in the blank world draped around her.
She was both angry and frightened as she suddenly
spun wildly in all directions.
"What the hell is this dump?! . . . "
she screamed out at the silence, "Wilkins! You gotta get
me outta here!"
She halted for a moment and then remembered
something as she yelled out again.
"'B', you bitch," she howled in anger,
"You did this! I know you're here somewhere! Where are you!?
. . . BUFFY!"
Faith backed up and suddenly was stopped by
a physical barrier. She spun around and was confronted by a massive
wall of enormous stone blocks. The wall extended both to the left
and right as well as upwards beyond the range of her vision. The
blocks themselves were roughly cut and a deep gray that almost
blended with the blackness swirling all about her.
"Shit! You again!" she cursed as
she banged against the structure.
Faith put her hands up palms out against the
stones of the wall and began to feel her way along as
she searched for its end. The huge blocks, with no breaks, loomed
off in one long continuous unending sweep into the darkness. She
stared upward and could see no top, only more of the oppressive
inky blackness overhead that surrounded her in all directions.
Suddenly, Faith broke out in a rage. At first
she kicked the wall again and again and then rained a hail of
blows with her fists against the impassive stones. She cursed
as each punch matched her words and her flesh struck the immovable
barrier.
"Damn! . . .You . . . fucking . . . bastard!
. . . Let . . . ME . . . OUTTA . . . HERE!"
Suddenly Faith stopped. Her breath came in
rapid bursts while her long black hair hung in disheveled strands
across her face. For a moment, she stared in fury at the wall.
Then a puzzled look swept across her face as she looked down at
her hands. Her assault on the stones normally would have torn
her skin and even broken bones, but as she gazed at her hands,
not a mark showed on them. She slowly rubbed her fingers together
as she struggled to understand what she was seeing.
Faith's anger dissolved away. In its place
across her face spread a look of growing despair.
"What the shit is this? . . . " she
whimpered almost like a lost child. "Where the hell is everybody?
. . ."
She leaned with her back against the wall,
then slowly slid down the stones to her knees. As she reached
the ground, Faith sat back and, still leaning against the wall,
lowered her head.
Suddenly, from somewhere in the darkness, a
young woman's voice began speaking. It was very faint and the
words indistinguishable, but Faith instantly recognized them from
their tone.
"'B?' 'B!' Where are you!?" Faith
cried out.
The voice droned on in a monotone as if it
were speaking only to itself. Faith strained to make out the words
until suddenly she realized that the sound was coming from beyond
the wall on the other side.
Desperately she pressed her face against the
gray surface and ran her hands around on the stones as if she
were searching for a crack or peep hole to yell through.
"Damn it 'B!'" she cursed again as
she pawed at the stones, "I'm here. I'm in here! I'm on the
other side!"
As quickly as it appeared, the voice faded
away.
"You Bitch!" Faith screamed, "Don't
you leave me here! . . . Don't fucking leave me alone! . . . BUFFY!"
The voice, like a distant beacon enveloped
in a sudden bank of impenetrable clouds, was gone, and silence
descended once more. Faith rubbed off the wetness running down
her cheek with the back of her hand.
". . . damn you . . . " she sobbed,
" . . . damn you . . ."
Faith huddled motionless against the wall in
the darkness. From somewhere out of the eternal night, a soft
breeze blew silently and, almost as if the wind were an invisible
hand, stirred the shocks of Faith's long black hair that hung
across her forehead. She didn't notice but only stared, now silently,
at the ground.
Faith's room at Sunnydale Convalescent Hospital
was bright with late afternoon sunshine. The window was open and
a gentle breeze blew across the room. Faith, dressed in a hospital
gown, lay motionless in her bed. She stared blankly ahead, unresponsive
to her surroundings even as the wind from outside the window stirred
her dark hair. The red in her eyes was even more pronounced than
it was earlier that morning.
Buffy sat alone by the side of her bed. She
held her former enemy's hand, ever so often gently stroking it
and spoke quietly. Faith gave no hint she could hear anything
Buffy said.
". . . so I don't know whether it was
you . . . or just something from my own head I saw that told me
what to do. Doesn't much matter I guess," Buffy confessed.
Buffy looked up and tried to gaze directly
into Faith's unseeing blood red eyes.
"I can't imagine what it must be like,"
she continued softly, "Being like this . . . I think I'd
be scared shitless. I mean, I can face vamps and demons, even
this thing that's probably gonna kill me tomorrow. But I don't
think I could handle . . ."
Buffy stopped in mid sentence as she stared
at Faith.
"I'm sorry. I know we hate each other's
guts and all but . . . I never wanted this to happen."
Buffy held Faith's hand tightly and messaged
it firmly.
"I'm here, Faith. I'm not leaving,"
Buffy whispered, "I know you must be able to hear me. Follow
my voice. I'm not going to let you go."
Faith gave no indication she heard Buffy. Only
the breeze still gently shifted a few strands of the comatose
Slayer's thick black hair.
* * * * * * * * *
Xander's basement bedroom in his parents' house
was a scene of total chaos. Every available square inch of space
was stacked high with flood lights, spot lights and stage lighting
equipment. Wires ran in tangled masses everywhere. Some of the
lighting equipment was mounted on metal stands, other lanterns
lay loose on the floor and several were plopped in the middle
of Xander's bed.
Although Xander himself was nowhere to be seen,
there was some rustling and banging over in one corner of the
room behind a confusion of wires and mounting stands.
Anya couldn't believe what she saw as she came
down the stairs.
"Xander! Xander!" she called out.
She stopped in shock at the foot of the staircase
and gazed at the contents of the basement.
"I'm over here," Xander sang out
from behind the equipment in the other corner of the room, "I've
almost got it finished!"
"What . . . is . . . all . . . this .
. . SHIT?!" Anya demanded as she put her hands on her hips.
Xander popped out from the corner of the room.
Holding two heavy gauge electrical cables, one with a male plug,
the other a female, he appeared to be about to plug them together.
"You know how we're supposed to save Buffy
and all?" he said.
"Uh, the world's included in that, too,
ya think?" Anya replied
"Yeah, that too," he continued, dismissing
her statement without even thinking, "Well if ol' Red Eyes
doesn't like light, I figure we set up a defense perimeter of
these babies."
Xander patted one of the mounted stage lights
affectionately.
"With these bombers around Buffy and the
Glow Glob, we just wait'll our 'friend' gets in real close and
then . . . Zap! Fries for everybody!"
"What makes you think all this crap is
gonna make enough light to . . ." she tried to point out
but Xander cut her off.
"Anya, some of this stuff's left over
from the Metallica concert at the arena! I got volts here! I got
amps! I got watts!"
"Any brains to go with those fries?"
Anya announced her voice dripping sarcasm.
"Just watch! I was gonna test it out on
Spike, but you can give me an honest opinion."
Xander rammed the two plugs together. Suddenly
the room erupted in a blaze of light as all the spots snapped
on at once. Anya winced and squinted her eyes.
"Geez Xander!" she shouted, "Turn
those things off before . . ."
"Ha HA!" he yelled triumphantly,
cutting her off at the same time, "See! Pretty intense, huh!
Pretty intimidating, huh!"
Before Anya could reply, one of the spots lying
on the bed heated up enough to set the sheets on fire. A second
later, the fuse box on the basement wall exploded in a shower
of sparks. The power shut off and the spots all blinked out. Smoke
and some small rising flames swirled up from the sheets on Xander's
bed. Madly he scrambled in the dark with a blanket trying to extinguish
the fire in his bed.
". . . you blow every fuse in the house,"
Anya announced picking up her sentence where she left off.
Xander thrashed with the blanket around the
flaming mattress and finally managed to smother the fire on his
bed. For a moment he gazed mournfully at the charred circle in
the center of the sheets.
"Ya think we gotta boost 'er to 220?"
he asked meekly looking back up at Anya.
Anya shook her head and rolled her eyes. Xander
studied the big scorch mark on one of the sheets.
"You know . . . that's kind of a turn
on when you think about it," he said
Anya sighed in complete disgust.
"Aw, come on!" he whined, "The
lights are a good idea!"
Anya walked over to Xander. She wrapped her
arms around his shoulders and smiled at him, using her most seductive
voice laced with a phoney sweetness.
"Xander, dear," she cooed.
She leaned forward and kissed him passionately.
Xander quickly dropped the charred blanket he was using to smother
the flames. He spread his hands around her slender waist. For
a moment, they were wrapped tightly in each other's arms. Then
they slowly separated.
"You have your little wall of lights all
set up," she smiled at him with the look of a gladiator about
to dispatch a hapless victim, "But what happens if . . .
'It' just decides . . . to go around?"
Xander, a blank look on his face, stared back
at Anya and didn't answer but only blinked.
* * * * * * *
Willow sat by herself on the edge of her bed.
She stared straight ahead across the dorm room, her face creased
in a wide grin and her eyes half shut. She clearly had one too
many at MacDuffie's New Age Shop and was now very drunk. Slowly
she started swaying gently as she chattered to herself, her words
coming out in one long slurred sentence.
"Ozzo, you bozo, you dingus gonzo, bozo
suck dog buhhf . . ." she trailed off.
Willow ran her tongue around the inside of
her mouth and then smacked her lips. Her face crinkled at the
unpleasant taste.
"Whew! Pissy stuff. I gotta go brush my
teeth."
Willow didn't get up from the bed but continued
to sway gently. Finally she spoke, half to the empty room and
half to herself.
"Oz, you are such a bastard. I shoulda
known, . . . " she said, shaking her head so her long hair
swayed back and forth, "Red hair, musician and a wolf.
That definitely equals one grand glorious asshole bastard. . .
. that's a good one. I better write that down."
Again Willow was silent and didn't move. After
a moment, she began to sing quietly and a tear ran down her cheek.
"If he will not go with me,
I will surely find another,
To pull wild mountain thyme,
All across the purple heather.
Will ye go, Lassie, will ye go."
Suddenly there was a loud knock at the dorm
room door. Willow looked up startled but still swayed.
"YO!' she sang out.
A voice called from the hallway.
"Willow? Is that you?" Tara asked
from beyond the closed door.
Willow shouted out again as if she enjoyed
the sound of the word.
"YO!"
Tara opened the dorm room door and peered in.
"Hi," she said hesitantly, immediately
aware of Willow's odd behavior. "Are you okay?" Tara
asked hesitantly.
"Yup yup yup yup yup!" Willow giggled
and bounced up and down on the bed.
"I was worried about you. We were supposed
to have lunch."
S'okay. Come on in," Willow grinned, waving
Tara in and patting the bed beside her, "Come over here.
I wanna tell ya somethin'."
Tara entered the room, walked over and sat
down beside Willow. Tara sniffed the air and gave Willow a disapproving
scowl.
"Whew! What have you been into?"
Tara asked as she crinkled her nose.
"The Tears . . . of the Great Goddess!"
Willow proclaimed as if her audience numbered in the thousands.
"You got drunk," Tara said shaking
her head.
"How'd ja know?"
"What were you drinking?" Tara asked,
ignoring Willow's slurred question.
"Scotch! . . ." Willow announced
proudly and suddenly frowned at Tara's reprimanding stare, "And
we weren't drinking! We were doing . . . research! Me,
that old fart, Piles, and Mr. MacMuffie."
"Willow, you're going to be real sick,"
Tara answered.
"Well, screw that cause I don't care!
But I gotta ask you something."
"Yeah?"
Willow paused and cast a worried look at her
friend.
"Do you like me?"
Tara was a little taken aback by the question,
but she quickly smiled and answered sincerely.
"Of course I like you."
"Good!" Willow said reassured, "'Cause
I like you too. That was the easy part. Now, for the big stuff."
"What?" Tara asked gently as she
sensed something more was coming than just silly drunken prattle.
". . . do you think you'll always like
me?" Willow asked sadly.
"I hope so," Tara answered quietly
after a pause as she looked directly into Willow's hazel eyes.
"Final answer?"
Tara gave Willow a little playful shove.
"Stop it!" she said smiling.
"Cause . . . I thought I loved Oz . .
." Willow said slowly and quietly as she looked away for
a moment and then stared back at Tara, "And he said he loved
me . . . but then . . . he changed . . . and went away and he
won't come back."
Willow's grin dissolved as she returned Tara's
intense gaze.
". . . does everybody change? . . ."
she asked wistfully.
"I don't know. An awful lot do,"
Tara replied at the same time feeling the weight of her friend's
search for reassurance.
"I . . . I gotta tell you this . . . real
quick!" Willow said earnestly.
"Why?"
"Well, the room's getting all spinny."
"You gonna barf?"
"Not yet. Soon though. But that's not
why. What I wanta say is . . ."
Willow couldn't finish the sentence but only
stared sadly at Tara. After a moment, she reached out and wrapped
her arms around Tara and buried her face on her friend's shoulder.
They remained in each other's embrace for a long time. Willow
then slid her head back and moved her face towards Tara's. In
an instant their lips met and Willow kissed Tara. They didn't
separate immediately but shared the kiss and all of its emotions
for a few moments. Finally Tara drew back from Willow and gently
stroked away Willow's messed up red hair off her face.
"Hey, you better lie down and get some
sleep," Tara whispered.
"But there's so much I wanna tell you."
"Tomorrow," Tara replied as she stroked
Willow's face, "When you're feeling better."
Tara gently settled Willow down on the bed.
She then got up off the bed and closed the blinds.
"I'll stop by later. You need anything?"
"You're not staying?" Willow asked,
her voice now succumbing to drowsiness.
"I got class. I'll be back. I promise."
Willow slipped down into the pillows.
"Okay. . . . " she murmured as she
settled in, "Thanks for letting me talk."
"Thanks for saying it," Tara answered
so quietly that Willow couldn't hear it.
Tara walked to the dorm room door. She shut
off the light and closed the door behind her as she left. In the
dim light of the room, a faint voice, like that of a very little
girl, drifted from Willow's bed.
"Wheeee! . . . spinny! . . ."
The room was quiet for a moment more.
"Wheeeeeeee! . . . uh oh . . . oohhhh
. . .!"
* * * * * * * * *
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