At First Light
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. Buffy and Marvel and everything associated with it belongs solely to its creator. This is not for profit, only amusement for me and for readers.
This will be mainly in Marvel Universe, with light Buffyverse mentions.
Hope you enjoy!
I'm thinking of making a banner for each chapter...but I might not. Just depends. :D
Elizabeth Summer, not Buffy, not the Slayer, not anything, flinched as the sun hit her eyes for the first time in a long time. Four years, four years she had been locked away in that padded room with only doctors and nurses, more cruel than kind, for company. Blinking as her eyes adjust to the bright light, she let a smile cross her lips, enjoying it's warm dancing across her skin. She took in a deep breath, sucking it in as if it were her last.
“You ready, sweetheart?” Joyce Summers looked at her daughter.
It took everything for Elizabeth not to flinch back from that stare. In her head, in Buffy’s memories that were twisted around her own, Joyce Summers died. She knew she wasn’t Buffy, she knew that this wasn’t that Joyce. Didn’t make it any easier. Putting on a smile, she said, “Of course, mom.”
Joyce wrapped her arm around her daughter leading her out towards the car. Towards Hank who had the car door open and waiting for them. Abandonment filled her, twice as harshly. You left me there in that asylum for four year
, her memories cried. But Buffy’s memories cried, You left mom, dawn and me!
It was become easier, Lizzie as she preferred, to tell herself from Buffy. Ever since the connection had been severed…
Running her fingers across the padded walls, Lizzie curled into the corner wanting it all to end. Closing her eyes, she found herself standing on the tower staring at her sister’s tearing up face.
“Live, Dawn, live for me.”
And then she jumped. Then the pain came.
It was white hot pain, shooting through every inch of her body. Tearing her very being apart like greedy little claws tearing through flesh. And she screamed. And screamed and screamed.
She thought it’d never end, but then…it did.
And Lizzie found herself in a white room, images moving to and forth. No rhythm, no reason. Voice, distorted and unclear, fell onto her making no sense. Her eyes fell to the center of the room where a bright white light was pulsing and humming with energy.
“Hello?” Repeated a voice so close to her, that she would have believed it to be her own. Actually, Lizzie realized as she turned to face the other person, it kinda was. There standing in front of her was a mirror image of her.
Not exactly, Lizzie realized. The other her was tan, skinny, but a healthy kind of skinny, with long bright blond hair. Lizzie’s hair had faded from bright blonde to its original dark golden, her skin so pale she could pass for Casper’s cousin and so sickly thin. No, this other her wasn’t her. Lizzie narrowed her eyes, when it came to her, “Buffy? Are you Buffy?”
“Yeah,” Buffy said, tensely. “Who are you?”
“Buffy,” Lizzie muttered. “At least, I thought I was, but there can’t be two of us. Unless we are like that Vampire Willow episode.”
“You don’t feel like a vampire,” the Slayer said, after a moment. “Though you are a little pale, don’t you go to the beach at all?”
A mirthless chuckle came from her lips, “I wish. But I can’t. I’m in the asylum, never got out.”
Buffy’s face fell and she went deathly pale. “Why? Are you a slayer in your world?”
“No, I don’t…” But another figure appeared in the shiny white room with them. And both Lizzie and Buffy groaned, “Whistler. What are you doing here?”
“To fix a problem.”
“Problem?” Lizzie questioned.
“You looked through the looking glass kid, and didn’t come all the way back.”
*END OF FLASHBACK*
“Lizze Bear, you alright back there?” Hank looked in his rearview mirror at his daughter. Her expression so vacant, so far away as she watched the California streets pass by in a blur. A crinkle appeared on her forehead, before she turned her eyes towards him. There was a wariness that hit him, very hard and he had to look away. She replied though, “I’m…just thinking.”
“About?” Joyce put on the best smile she could muster. Hank sighed, they both were trying to put on their best faces. Both worried that having their daughter back was too good to be true.
“How nice it is to feel the wind,” Lizzie said, leaning her face back towards the window as a silence fell over the car. Lizzie closed her eyes and enjoyed the window. Enjoying the fact, that this was just her, not anyone else.
“So you saying that Lizzie here some how used psychic powers and connected herself to me and now she’s crazy because her mind can’t handle two lives?”
“Sort of, but not quite.” Whistler rubbed a hand down his face. “Lizzie isn’t a psychic, psychics see the future. She’s not a witch either, but she has an energy. It’s very in tuned to emotions and thought, so I guess the best way to put is that she’s an empath.”
“And the connection?” Buffy crossed her arms.
“The best they can figure is when you became the Slayer, Lizzie power was so unstable, so unbalanced that it reached out and connected itself to you to try and balance itself. Instead it made Lizzie actually believes that she was actually you and well, the rest is history.”
“So what’s changed now?” Lizzie demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why are we here?”
Whistler looked at the two blonde, in similar stances, looking at him both with the same look. So alike yet so different, the messenger thought. “Slayer girl here died. And you have not…yet.”
“Yet?” Lizzie looked at him in alarm.
“You’re connected to her, she’s dead and needs her peace. She deserves it,” Whistler said, “She’s going to heaven, whether you get dragged with her or not, is something your going to have to fix.”
“And exactly how to I do that?” Lizzie snarled at him.
Whistler took a step back, hands up in surrender. “Well, usually months of carefully peeling the connection apart, but the Powers didn’t think the Slayer would be cool with killing an innocent.”
“You bet your bottom,” Buffy glared.
“So they’ve decided to help out,” the messenger said, ignoring the interruption. “I warn you though, it’s going to hurt. A lot. Not for her,” he pointed at Buffy, “she’s dead, can’t hurt anymore. You…if you do this, and you live, there are going to miles to go, kid and no take backs.”
“I don’t want to die,” Lizzie said.
Whistler nodded, walking towards the bright white light in the center of the room and Buffy said, “Wait.”
The messenger turned to her. The Slayer bounced on the balls of her feet, “What happens if she connects to another Buffy? I mean, there are other worlds.”
“Don’t worry kid, the Powers already thought of that and have talked to Lizzie world’s guardians. It won’t happen again,” Whistler said reaching towards the bright white light. He looked straight at Lizzie, “Good luck, kid. You’re going to need it,” then paused and looked at Buffy, “then again…if your anything like her, maybe you won’t need it.”
“This is really weird, but I guess, good-bye?” Buffy waved unsure.
Lizzie just as awkward. “Good-bye and…rest in peace?”
Whistler reached out and moved to shatter the connection when something flung with away from it.
“Whistler,” Buffy asked, “what’s going on?”
The white light turned black. The Slayer and Lizzie both groaned, "It's never that easy..."
It had been five months of torture, her body had literally shut down on itself. Nearly dead. And she had come back, but there was still so much to do.
The car pulled to abrupt stop and Lizzie snapped her head forward. Joyce smiled back at her daughter, “Home, sweet home.”
“Yeah,” Lizzie agreed, hoping her voice didn’t seem as shaky as she felt. “Home, sweet home.”
And Lizzie flinched when Hank pulled out the wheelchair.
END OF CHAPTER
HOPE YOU LIKED! PLEASE REVIEW!
Note: Liz’s empath will be brought up later, this is not simply to tie her to the Buffy universe. And other BtVS’ alter might make appearances.
Also flashback will not be as frequent as they are in this chapter.