The Demon in Me - Nominations
By Spikeschilde


Chapter 1


Buffy slipped through the shadows of the night as fast as her legs would carry her. Nothing about the night seemed out of place, yet she kept throwing worried glances over her shoulder. What if he was following her? What if someone had seen her escape? She picked up her pace, wincing as her bare, torn up feet thumped heavily against the pavement.

Buffy almost sighed in relief as she neared her Watcher’s apartment. Shooting one last glance over her shoulder, she slipped quickly down the steps and knocked on his door. She took several steps back as she heard Giles making his way to the door before it was opened with a flourish in front of her, as if he had been expecting someone.

His appearance was unkempt, his eyes glassy and tired, as though he hadn’t slept in days and his face held the growth of at least day old stubble. Yet, a light of hope seemed to appear within his eyes as he took in the form of his Slayer, alive before him, albeit in a broken and bruised state.

“Buffy!” Giles almost wept with relief as he went to take a step forward and sweep his Slayer into a hug. She took another hurried step back out of his embrace and held her hands up before her to ward off any more advances.

“I’m so sorry, Giles,” she said as she turned her tears stained face to his. He looked at her in confusion, taking in with no small amount of horror the shackles that still held fast around her raw and bloodied wrists. “I’m so sorry.”

“Buffy? Why don’t you come-” Buffy’s eyes went wide and she shook her head rapidly, cutting him off mid speech.

“Don’t invite me in. I…” She took a deep shuddering breath and dropped her head forward to avoid his disapproving stare. “I think I have been turned.” Giles looked down at the girl in front of him, who he considered to be like his own daughter, in surprise.

“Been turned? Buffy, surely you would know if you had been turned or not. There are signs; acute hunger and the need for human blood, a need for violence and destruction of all that is good around them, just to name a few. If you had been turned, Buffy, I feel sure that you would know it,” he said trying to reassure her. Buffy shook her head sadly and never let her eyes stray from the ground before her.

“Then how do you explain this?” Giles gasped as Buffy raised her head. Whatever he had been expecting when she looked up at him, it was not the sight he was greeted with. Her green eyes were glowing brightly and her ears had extended at the tips into cat like points. She looked like some mystical form of feline and as she opened her mouth slightly he could see the tiny points of her fangs. The rest of her teeth had stayed the same.

She was most definitely no vampire. She had taken on an almost ethereal quality in her transformation. The air around them seemed to be humming with warmth. He could feel the sense of good in the air and knew his Slayer was nothing to be afraid of.

“See. I told you.” Buffy dropped her head dejectedly again and let her features shift back into that of her human face. The shocked look in Giles’ eyes was enough to tell her that he didn’t trust her anymore. She didn’t blame him.

“You’re not a vampire, Buffy,” he said softly, causing her to jolt sharply out of her inner musings and instantly become defensive.

“What do you mean? Of course I’m a vampire.” Giles shook his head slowly.

“No. You’re not. Come inside and we’ll talk,” he said, stepping forward and clasping her hand before she could take another step back. The shackles around her wrists clanked loudly and his attentions were drawn to them once more. They needed to get them off her, give her wrists a chance to heal. First though she needed to get cleaned up. She was covered in dried blood and dirt. Her clothes were ripped and torn, and her feet bloody and bare. “Where have you been?”

Buffy took a shaky breath as she sat down softly on the couch. Her hands fidgeted absentmindedly with the bands of metal around her wrists as her eyes darted around the room.

“I didn’t know what would happened, Giles. I swear if I had known I wouldn’t have done it.” Her eyes were wide and tear filled and Giles felt his heart tighten just that little bit more.

“It’s okay. Just tell me what went wrong. Who did this to you?” he asked softly, sitting down beside her and placing a comforting hand on her knee.

“Angel. Well not Angel—I don’t know.” Giles frowned as he tried to wrap his head around what she was saying.

“Are you saying that Angel…tortured you?” She nodded her head, then stopped and changed her mind and shook it gently.

“Something happened to him. He’s different somehow; he has teamed up with Drusilla again.” She looked down at herself, holding out her shackled wrists slightly. “This is their work. I think they must have realised I wasn’t a vampire when I woke up; either that or they do this to all the new vamps they turn.” Giles took his glasses off and polished them hurriedly.

“Oh, good God! Angel must have somehow reverted back to Angelus.” He turned back to his distraught Slayer. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get cleaned up. I’ll call your mother and the others.” Buffy shook her head emphatically and Giles gave her a confused look as she stopped him from standing.

“I don’t want them to see me like this. They wouldn’t understand; I don’t think I can bear to see what they think of me now. This is all my fault, Giles. I went and turned myself into a monster and let a homicidal maniac loose on the world.” She couldn’t meet his gaze as she spoke to him. She was ashamed of what she had allowed herself to become.

“They have a right to know, Buffy. They are your friends and family and we all care for you. No matter what’s happened, they will still love you. I still love you. You’re like a daughter to me and I will see you through this.” He looked at her with raised eyebrows as he waited for her answer, which came in the form of a small nod of her head.

“Okay. Do you mind if I stay with you, though? I don’t know what I am, or if I am dangerous. I know you at least will have a chance of protecting yourself against me. Mom wouldn’t stand a chance.” Giles smiled and got up from the seat.

“Of course”


***



Twenty minutes later found Buffy freshly washed and sitting in the dark in Giles’ spare bedroom. She was sitting on the floor, staring blankly at the wall as her newly heightened senses picked up every noise coming from the living room downstairs. She heard ever word, every intake of breath, every cry of outrage and every sob as Giles told her mother and friends what had happened. Of how she had been turned into something less than human, but still was Buffy; of how she might be more sensitive from days of torture; of how Angel was not to be trusted under any circumstances. Everyone was down there, even Cordy. Buffy shuddered and pressed herself further into the corner of the wall, the shackles around her wrists clanking.

She stifled a sob as her mind unwillingly replayed the events of the last few days, hanging from a ceiling while being tortured for what she was and what she had failed to become. She heard footsteps on the stairs and could tell by the weight of them that they were male. That left three choices: Xander, Oz, or Giles. The first two were unlikely.

“Buffy?” Bingo! She didn’t reply or bother to move when he opened the door slightly. “Are you going to come down? Your mother’s here. She’d like to see you.” He slipped in quietly and crossed the room to sit on the bed across from her. She sniffled slightly and shook her head.

“No. Just tell her I’m sorry and that I love her, okay? I don’t want to go down, Giles. I’m not sure I trust myself; I don’t want to put them in any danger.” He frowned slightly but nodded his consent, though he didn’t make a move to leave the room.

“How long has it been since you last ate?” His frown grew when she shrugged.

“I don’t know. I can vaguely remember someone trying to feed me when I was almost unconscious. I can’t remember if I dreamt it or if it happened though. I can’t imagine any of the minions going against Angel’s or Dru’s orders.” Giles nodded grimly and stood up from the bed.

“What would you like then? You have to eat; it should help your body start to heal as well.” Buffy gave her Watcher a small smile.

“Anything you have got lying around is fine. I’m not really all that hungry anyway.” He gave her a small nod and walked towards the door, pausing only once to look back at her. “I’m not coming down, Giles.” Nodding again, he walked out of the room and shut the door.

She heard him descend the stairs and relay her message to the group. She heard her mother instantly start to protest. She had to suppress the smile that threatened to come over her face as she listened to them all start to protest. It was times like these that you realised how much you were loved by the people around you.

She shivered again when she heard footsteps on the stairs. Female this time. She caught the slight scent of lavender and knew that it was her mother. Buffy didn’t need super senses to work that one out. Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she couldn’t even begin to imagine her mother’s reaction. The woman had found out all in one day that vampire existed and her daughter was destined to fight them, that said daughter lost her virginity to one and had been turned into some sort of demon, and that she had also been missing and tortured for days.

With these thoughts running through her mind, she didn’t answer the timid knock on the bedroom door.

“Buffy?” At the sound of her mother’s voice she wanted to fling the door open and fall into her mother’s arms, but the fear of rejection kept her in place. She watched as the door opened slightly and her mother poked her head in. Even in the dark she could clearly see the slight fear on her mother’s face. “Buffy?”

“I’m here, mom.” Joyce’s gaze swung to the corner of the room and the sound of her daughter’s voice. She could only see a vague outline of Buffy in the almost pitch black light, but it was enough for the moment and Giles had said that the bright lights hurt Buffy’s new sensitive eyesight. Joyce stepped fully into the room and stumbled her way across to the corner that held her daughter.

“Oh, Buffy! I was so worried!” Buffy watched warily as her mother shuffled across the room and crouched down before her. She almost burst into tears as Joyce reached out and touched her arm softly, comfortingly. “Are you okay, honey?” That seemed to break her and Buffy launched herself into her mother’s arms and started sobbing in earnest. Joyce sighed in relief and clutched her daughter tightly, not noticing the blood that seeped through Buffy’s clothes and onto her hands.

“I was so scared.” Joyce felt tears begin to fall from her eyes as she stroked her daughter’s hair. She was still Buffy. She was still her little girl.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re safe now.” They held each other for a while longer while each woman calmed themselves down and took comfort from the other’s presence. “Why don’t you come downstairs? Everyone wants to see you. Nobody cares what was done to you, just that you’re safe.” Joyce pulled back and looked into her daughter’s eyes as best she could, brushing Buffy’s hair out of her face in the dark.

Buffy hesitated. She took a deep breath—if she could survive being tortured by Angel, she could brave this. At her mother’s quiet encouragement, Buffy pulled herself to her feet and took her mother’s hand.

She recoiled again sharply, however, as soon as they stepped into the light and she heard her mother’s gasp of horror. Buffy slowly realised that it was only due to the extensive injuries that were visible and the shackles that still bound her wrists. She had multiple cuts all over her where they had bled her, was covered in black and blue bruises, and had an angry looking gash that ran from the middle of her forehead to her temple. The rest was hidden under the overly large t-shirt Giles hand lent her and the rolled up sweat pants.

Joyce looked down at her hands and saw the traces of blood smeared across them.

“Oh, Buffy--.” She took her mother’s hands quickly, hiding the horrific sight of her child’s own blood on her hands. Joyce looked up at her daughter in horror.

“It’s okay, mom. I’m fine. I survived didn’t I?” Tears were running down her face as Buffy turned and led her back down the stairs. She had almost forgotten her friends were waiting for her at the bottom as she tried to console her mother.

It was Willow’s sharp intake of breath and tearful hug that reminded Buffy of the situation. The red head had embraced her gently to avoid the various cuts and abrasions on her. Joyce still stood numb beside her daughter.

“Giles can you help mom? She’s a little upset about how much I’m hurt.” Giles quickly walked over to help the Slayer’s mother and Buffy then turned to the four teenagers who were staring at her in the living room.

“God, what did he do to you, Buff?” Xander asked as he too stepped forward to give her a gentle, yet relieved and tearful hug. She hugged him back firmly before stepping back and out of their reach. Cordy and Oz both stepped up to stand beside their respective partners and she gave them both small smiles.

Buffy suddenly felt like she was on show, standing before them ready to be dissected as they all stared at her with varying forms of emotions playing across their faces. She began to feel claustrophobic and stepped back again.

“You look…awful,” Cordy said as she took in the bruised and bloody state of the Slayer.

“Thanks, Cordy. It’s good to know I can always count on you to put things into perspective for me. I look shocking, I know this. Surprisingly, I still have a reflection.” Buffy noticed the grim looks on her friends’ faces and sighed heavily. “I’m fine guys. I’m alive aren’t I? Nothing too serious—forty percent physical damage and the rest is all the emotional kind.” She gave another small mental sigh of relief as Giles entered the room again and walked over to them.

“Are you alright?” Buffy gave him a meek nod.

“I need some help dressing and binding the wounds on my back, though. You up for it?” Giles frowned slightly and readjusted his glasses.

“I am assuming by that, that you are asking whether I am willing to help you or not?” Buffy gave him a small smile and nodded her head. Giles looked around the room. “Yes, well I suppose we could do it in here.” He led her over to the chair by his desk and sat her down so she was straddling it backwards. “If you could lift the back of your shirt, I’ll be right back.” Buffy glanced quickly at her friends before lifting the shirt over her head, unashamed to be sitting on the chair in nothing other than a sports bra and sweatpants.

The sharp intakes of breath and Xander’s muttered queasy ‘oh God’, was enough to let her know that the damage on her back must look pretty bad.

“Dear lord.” Giles spoke almost fearfully as he re-entered the room with his medical kit. He looked down at the small box and then back at the expanse of her back. There wasn’t going to be enough in the small kit to bind all that needed to be bound. His slayer had been whipped, burned, staked, cut…there was a particularly brutal looking wound on her back which appeared as if she had been run through with some type of broadsword.

Giles approached her hesitantly and placed the medical supplies on the table off to her side.

“Buffy.” He said it so softly that she was forced to turn towards him, where she caught sight of the horrified look on his face. She decided then and there that she wasn’t going to show him the front of her and the area where Angel hand carved his name into her chest. She would tend to that herself.

“It’s okay, Giles. Just looks bad. The bruising and cuts will fade in time.” She turned away from him again, only tensing slightly when he placed a soft hand on her shoulder.

The Ripper in Giles reared his head at the sight of his surrogate daughter’s injuries, and his voice turned sharp and authoritative.

“Willow, could you go get me some warm water and some soft cloth please. Xander, I need you to go to my closest and get a sheet and start tearing it up into strips. Cordy and Oz, go make sure Buffy’s mother is lying down and doesn’t come out of my room until we tell you it’s okay. Can you do that?” The teens were already in motion, and Giles looked back down at the tortured body of his Slayer. Angelus and his bitch would die a slow and painful death if he had any say in the matter.



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