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Wings of a raven

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Summary: What if?What if Sam sold his soul in exchange for his brothers safety and revenge towards the demons who hunted Winchester family? What if Buffy saw trough Spike’s fake pain after he hit her in Smashed? What if she seeks Tara’s help imminently after that?

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Anime > Other
Multiple Crossings > Buffy-Centered
Supernatural > Buffy-Centered > Theme: Dark
CristinaFR18410,7711122,69625 Sep 1120 Jul 12No

Back in Time, The Wheel Turns

Illustration

Chapter 2: Back in Time, The Wheel Turns

Disclaimer: Some of dialogue is taken from episodes ‘Smashed,’ ‘Wrecked’ and ‘Dead Things’.
Pictures are found on Google and coped and pasted together. And so I don’t own a thing…except the plot.

Authors note: I feel like I should clarify event from first chapter; the kiss by Sebastian that “cured” the woman that was possessed by Crossroads demon. Well SPN demons are not really demons, like in BtVS and Black Butler, SPN demons are human souls that were tortured in Hell, even Lilith, and the first demon was made that way. So we can say they are corrupted souls that can possess people, Sebastian however is a demon that eats souls, so Crossroads demon got eaten.

Special thank you to my beta readers Kendra and Angie.

***

20 November, 2001 – Sunnydale, California

It was warm November night that found Buffy patrolling the streets of Sunnydale. Stumbling on a married couple being mugged, she intervened only to discover that the mugger was human, not vampire. Picking up the woman’s purse from the ground she gave it to the frightened woman and told the couple to run.

The husband and wife ran off, disappearing into the darkness. While one of the muggers attacked Buffy, who blocked his punch and grabbing his wrist to hold him still, punched him in the face with enough force to make him see stars. She then grabbed his arm and twisted it behind him, rendering him immobile. Spotting the other mugger, she kicked out at him and he flew backwards.

Buffy watched the second mugger get up. “Come on, rush me, it'll be funnys” she taunted with a flat voice, not really feeling the fun she once did…in anything really, just numbness.

The second mugger was about to take her up on her offer, face contorted in anger at the small chit who just taunted him and prevented him from an easy grab, when a bleached blonde jumped in to the fray yelling something that sounded like a battle cry.

“Yaaaaaahhhhhhhh!”

He only had eyes for violence, so Buffy’s warning to stop fell on his deaf ears as the vampire punched the mugger. The mugger went flying into a brick wall and fell into a pile of boxes. Unfortunately, as the mugger was human, the chip in Spike’s brain activated and he howled, collapsing into the boxes and rolled around. Buffy let go of her mugger and he ran off into the night, leaving the other to push his way through garbage. Buffy turned to Spike, watching the vampire wince and cradle his head.

“What? I thought they were demons,” came Spike’s gritted reply.

Buffy shrugged, smirking, “Way to go Spike with the keen observances’, Jessica Fletcher.”

Spike glared at the blond. “Remind me not to help you,” he grumbled.

Buffy’s smirk stretched in to full- blown mocking smile. “More often?”

Spike made a pitiful ‘woe is me’ face and pouted. “Hey. Little sympathy for the bloke with the migraine here, can we? You'd think if the government was gonna put a chip in my head, they'd at least make it so I could attack criminals and that sort.”

Buffy snorted. “Yes, because muggers deserve to be eaten.” That comment caused Spike to give her a sour look.

“Just have to get your rocks off fighting demons,” she continued.

Spike wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “There are other ways,” he purred and crawled closer while Buffy took a quick step back.

“And to that, an extreme see you later.” With that, she turned and walked away. Being around Spike was dangerous, because as much as she was loathed to admit it, he made her feel, even if it was self-disgust, or anger, or dare she say it lust. But, it was something that filled the void she felt since her resurrection.

Spike was on his feet and following. “Oi, Buffy!” he called after her.

Don’t stop, don’t stop, she though. But just as the thought crossed her mind, so did another one: any feeling was better than nothing. Even if it was disgust, anger or lust. She sighed as she wheeled around.

“Spike ... it's late, okay, can we just finish this another time?” Maybe he will give up and leave her alone, give her time to mount stronger defence or ….

Spike moved closer, his cocky smirk filling his whole face. “Oh, so you wanna jump right to the kissing then, eh?”

So much for giving her time. “I am not kissing you, Spike. Once was…”

“Twice,” Spike added smugly, cutting her off.

“But not again,” she deadpanned and turned away again. But Spike was not finished toying with her and followed again.

“You're a tease, you know that, Slayer? Get a fellow's motor revving, let the tension marinate a couple-a days, then bam! Crown yourself the ice queen.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and, without turning around, tossed back, “Need a few more metaphors for that little mix? “

Buffy continued on. Spike stayed behind in the alley, yelling after her, “It's only a matter of time before you realize I'm the only one here for you, pet. You got no one else! “

Buffy stopped. “You really seem awfully fixated on a couple of kisses, Spike.”

“And you seem awfully quick to forget about them.” He said, moving closer. She slowly turned to face him.

“Look. I'm sorry, okay? I'm-I'm sorry if you thought that it meant more.”

“But...” Spike probed, amused at the nervous babble.

“But ... when I kissed you ... you know I was thinking about Giles, right?” she continues peering at him.

“You know, I always wondered about you two,” he commented, lighting a cigarette.

“What?” Buffy squeaked then makes a face. ”Oh, gross, Spike! He left. I was depressed. Ergo vulnerability and- and bad kissing decisions. Okay, but, that's all that it was. You have to let it go.”

Spike smirked down at her again “Did it work?” he asked.

“What?”

“You convince yourself?”

“Please, stop.” She turned around again and started off, but heard him following behind her.

“A man can change,” he commented.

She paused, turning once again. “But you’re not a man. You're a vampire. A soulless one,” she added the last part, stressing on soulless. Turning, she made to leave when Spike grabbed her shoulder.

“Stop walking away.”

Buffy shrugged off his hand with a hissed, “Don't touch me!” but Spike didn’t listen and grabbed her shoulder again. Buffy used the momentum to spin around and punch him with her other hand. He reeled back a step and backhanded her, his momentum putting her to the ground.

Looking up at Spike, she promised herself that she would give him a good whack on the head for that hit. Her blood runs cold as she sees the surprise on Spike’s face. His eyes are wide as he reaches up to touch his head tentatively, a smile curling the corners of his mouth.

Buffy quickly looked down, preparing to defend herself and then got to her feet. Spike yelled suddenly, grabbing at his head. Buffy watched him warily, knowing that he’s acting and he isn’t that great of an actor. While he started with the dramatics, Buffy backhanded him and he went down. He pushed himself to his knees, keeping his back to her. Buffy raised a single eyebrow at him. “Don’t follow me, Spike,” she said firmly, turning and walking away.

Spike lifted his head and watched her go. Slowly, an evil grin spread across his face.

Buffy rounded the corner out of the alley and exhaled. She knew what she had to do; she had to trail him. She was determined to. She climbed up an old drainpipe onto the roof and crossed back towards the alley. She didn’t know why he was acting, but she needed to see what he was up to.

***

The next day, Tara Maclay opened her door. Buffy stood on the other side, clearly agitated and distraught. With a quiet “hello” Buffy moved inside the doorway and Tara offered her the couch. Buffy sat and fidgeted, her hands nervously clenching and unclenching in her lap. After a moment, she rubbed at her wrist. Tara watched her for a moment with growing concern. Taking a seat that faced the couch, she readied herself for the question she didn’t want to ask.

“Is it bad?” she asked, watching Buffy wince and pull her hands apart.

“I was hoping you could tell me that.” Drawing in a breath, Buffy steeled her nerves and looked Tara directly in the eye. “Spike. He can hurt me, without his head exploding.”

Tara sucked in a breath. “Oh my god,” she whispered, eyes wide. “Hi-his chip stopped working?”

Buffy shook her head. “No… the chip still works. After his oh-so-obvious act that it hurt after he hit me. I followed him and he attacked someone and it activated, so… it still works. But not on me.” She paused and took a deep, shaking breath. “I—I need to know about the spell, the one that brought me back. I—I’d ask Willow, but… I—I think… that maybe… I came back… wrong.”

Tara stood up and walked over to Buffy. She sat next to her and took Buffy’s shaking hands into hers. “Are you certain?” she asked, looking at the other blonde. Buffy had her eyes to the floor, her breathing measured.

“I don't know. I feel ... different. There are things... Can you check out the spell? Just see if there's something that ... Could you just check? Please?”

“All right,” Tara nodded. Buffy smiled and stood up. Tara’s next words stopped her in her tracks. “But you are staying here till I do.”

“I have to ... patrol. And there’s Dawn.”

“Sunnydale will survive for a night, Buffy. Xander, Anya and Willow are at your house, so don’t worry about Dawn. You just rest here; what’s more I think you need it.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Oh,” Tara smiled. “Then wait a moment I’ll give you something to help you sleep.”
Buffy nodded and sat back down, while Tara put the pot on the stove to make calming tea.

***

A couple hours later, Buffy woke up. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was. Then her memory came back and she sat up.

“Oh, you are awake,” came Tara’s voice from behind her. Buffy turned on the bed to see Tara standing by the closet holding a deck of tarot cards.

Tara smiled and walked to the chair by the bed where Buffy had been, just a moment ago, sleeping soundly.

“Did you sleep well?” At Buffy’s nod, Tara smiled. “I knew that tea would help you, in more ways than one.” She spread the tarot cards on the table. “I would like that you choose one card please.”

“Will that help figure out what’s wrong with me?”

“No, this will help you get better,” was Tara’s response.

Buffy’s eyes dropped. “So there is something wrong with me.”

Tara shook her head. “I-I've double checked everything. But ... you are different. Shifting you out of ... f-f-from where you were ... funneling your essence back into your body ... I-it, it altered you on a basic molecular level. Probably just enough to confuse the sensors or whatever in Spike's chip. But it's all just surface physical stuff. It wouldn't have any more effect than ... bad sunburn.”

“But…“

“Pick a card Buffy, and I w-will explain further. Please Buffy,” Tara implored.

Buffy nodded, choosing a card out of the pile and handed it over to Tara. Tara flipped it over then added two other cards.

Then she smiled. “I thought a-as much,” she muttered triumphantly.

“What…”

“Well like I said you did not came back wrong, just different. But you can get better.” Then she shot a fellow blonde a look. “W-when you drank the tea that I made you, I read your residue leaves, a-and you should learn magic.”

“What me, magic, b-but that’s Willow’s thing and yours, I-I just hit stuff,” stuttered Buffy, not being able to wrap her mind around the concept.

“And by j-just thinking and saying that means you really should learn magic, you already chosen your patron goddesses, a-and I’ll be teaching you.”

“What about Willow….?”

“This is not about Willow, this is about you reaching inner balance, and don’t you think that you should do things that would help you. You said that you felt different, that’s one of the ways to fix that. Unless you think that you can reach any sort of peace via Spike’s help,” Tara added the last part sternly.

Buffy’s eyes widenend at Tara’s tone. And, after a moment of thought. She reluctantly nodded. “Uh huh, okay, so patron goddess?”

Tara lifted the card Buffy chose and showed it to her. Buffy took the card and glanced at it. The image showed a golden haired beautiful Goddess surrounded by cats. She wears the falcon feather cloak. Encircling her neck is the fire necklace.
“This is Freya,” She explained. At Buffy’s confused look, she went on. “She is the Daughter of Time, and the Supreme Goddess of the Northern Mysteries, mistress of the inner seith-fire and the religion of Wikkerie as well as the patroness of witches and of women who attain wisdom, status, and power, since the Valkyries had been ordinary women, then priestesses, and after being Valkyr became Norns, the Great Goddesses who weave the fates and histories of people and of nations. That necklace of fire is ‘the jewel, whose power cannot be resisted.’ Brisingamen, Brising meaning fire, Freya is quite independent, being chief of the Valkyries, the demi-goddesses. “

***

Weeks after the conversation Tara had had with Buffy, she was now a budding Priestess of Wikkerie, or a witch-in-training, and was finally ready to face her patron goddess.

Buffy sat in the middle of a pentagram at each of five points there were objects associated with Freya; smoky-quartz, fire-agate, amber, feather of a falcon and a turf of lynx hair. And all around in the circle candles burned merrily. Tara was sitting across from Buffy, Indian style, mashing herbs in to orange – red paste, and then she shaped a cen rune on Buffy’s forehead.
As soon as last stoke of the Tara’s finger Buffy closed her eyes and ….

She was dancing, twirling in the forest, green leaves waving around her, a small cat with a coat of warm reddish-brown with almond shaped green eyes, a falcon flying overhead and from tree a Lynx jumped from one branch to the other.
The grass was so thick and soft like finest Persian rug, a kind that her grandmother owned while she lived.
I wonder what happened to that rug, a stray and strange thought. “There are no strange thoughts here, child,” came a melodic voice behind her, Buffy turned around and …


To be continued….
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