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Soulbridge
Chapter 1 – The Nightmare
Dedicated to Dawn Summers: friend and Key.
There is such a thing as fate, and I understand now that only one ending was ever possible in the face of such powerful and timeless forces.
The events I relate here will forever haunt those involved. Myself, my dearest Willow, and more than anyone else, Buffy. None of us will ever forget what happened to Dawn, the Key to Hell, created from the very blood of the Slayer. But still I am compelled to put it on paper. Writing has always helped me to move on from difficult times. There really is so much to be happy for, and it is time to start focussing on the future.
We came so close to losing even the very memory of Dawn.
I am also very aware that it is events like these that become legends. I feel that this legend should be written by someone who was there.
Tara Maclay
Dawn awakened in a cold sweat. The nightmare was terrifying, but she couldn't remember exactly why. There had been an eyeless figure shrouded in white, and red flames licking around her–but there was no pain. She had been going somewhere, or maybe leaving somewhere... but as always the dream faded too quickly to grasp. She'd been having this dream increasingly often, almost once a week now, but she could never put her finger on just what scared her so badly.
But she knew how to banish the fear. She backed up against her sleeping lover and curled up in a ball. Buffy spooned around her instinctively and Dawn felt warm and safe and loved. She felt the way she had felt every day for months: that she was the luckiest person who had ever lived.
As she drifted back into sleep, her thoughts wandered sleepily back to another night in another house and another city, when she lay curled up just like this, but alone, waiting for Christmas morning. She had always hated her garish wallpaper in daylight, but at night, lit by streetlamps reflected off of snow, the room took on a different, peaceful aspect. The wallpaper was... what was it like? She tried to picture it and couldn't. Odd–she had lived in that room for most of her life. Or, at least, her simulated life.
Dawn came fully awake, concentrating on her old bedroom. She could still go back and find her way around it blind: bed in the corner by the window, two dressers, a heap of laundry behind the door where Mom might not notice, a hanging mobile with blue dragonflies, and movie posters all over the walls....
"Buffy!" She shook her sister's shoulder gently.
"Mmmmhhh. What?" muttered Buffy. It was 4 AM.
"Buffy, what was my wallpaper like in my room?"
Buffy seemed to have fallen back to sleep but finally said again, "What?"
"What was my wallpaper like in my old room? In L.A.?"
"You're having a dream... go back to sleep, sweetie."
"Buffy, I can't remember the wallpaper. What was it like?"
Buffy was slowly waking up. "I don't know. I think it was purple. Why?"
"No, I like purple. I hated that wallpaper. Why can't I remember it at all? Do you remember anything about it?"
Buffy thought a while. "I don't know. I had yellow stripes. I'm not sure what you had in your room." She wrapped an arm gently around Dawn's belly and closed her eyes.
"You don't remember it at all?"
"I guess not."
Dawn let the Slayer go back to sleep, but her brow furrowed and she kept trying to remember her old walls. Eventually she drifted off again and slept fitfully for a few more hours. A figure draped in white reached for her in her dreams.
"So," said Giles cheerfully, turning his attention to Dawn and Buffy, "Willow and Tara together.... Xander and Anya. Now, if I use your slang correctly, we just need you two to hook up!" The sisters simultaneously spit their drinks, followed by a rush of apologies. "Or perhaps I should just stay away from American slang," said Giles, perplexed. Willow was experiencing a sudden coughing fit and I was staring hard at my plate, supressing laughter by sheer force of will.
"Well, ah, Anya, you said you had a message for me?" Giles said, changing the subject.
"Here," she said, pulling a piece of paper from Xander's coat pocket. "The Council said it's nothing urgent, they're just doing some investigating. They want to know if we have ever come across something called the 'Soulbridge.'" Giles shook his head, and Anya continued, "Two vampires in Paris were overheard mentioning it in conjunction with the Hellmouth. The Council has the sense that these vampires see it as a threat. That's all the Council's spy was able to hear."
"Well, any threat to vampires is good news, I say, but it means nothing to me. Willow? Tara?"
"Soulbridge? Never heard of it," said Willow. "It could be a spell, a place, a secret cult... who knows?" Buffy and I were shaking our heads as well.
Xander had his own theory. "It could be that new overpass they're putting up over on the West side." Everyone looked at him. "Or maybe not."
"Let's keep an ear open," said Buffy, "and see what turns up."
"Oh!" said Anya. "One more thing. The vampires that were worried about the Soulbridge. The Council said they were talking in an outdoor cafe. In broad daylight."
"Those are some seriously powerful vampires," said Buffy, her eyebrows raised.
"We'll definitely want to look into this," Giles agreed.
We finished dinner and talked a while. Nobody but I noticed when Willow suddenly fell very still. I shook my head sternly but it was no use–she couldn't see a thing. I tried telepathy, but if she heard my mental warning, she couldn't respond. A moment later I yelped involuntarily. Startled, Dawn dropped her fork under the table, and everyone turned to look at me. "I'm fine–charlie horse!" I said quickly.
"Again?" said Buffy. Oh, right–I'd used that line already this week.
As Dawn was rising from retrieving her fork, she caught a flash of light out of the corner of her eye. A glowing spark had zipped out from under my dress, and darted up under Willow's. Willow snapped out of her trance and smiled innocently.
Dawn wasn't sure what had just happened, but she had seen a spark like that before. Willow and I called them sprites, she knew, and we could use them to leave our bodies. Sprites couldn't do much and they couldn't go far, except to find one another. On the night Willow brought Buffy back, my sprite had flown for miles homing in on Willow to lead her home. Sprites normally exited the body from the mouth. But Dawn had the suspicion that the mouth was not the only exit for a sprite. Noticing Dawn's curious stare, I flashed my lover a dirty look. But that only encourages Willow, so I excused myself from the table before there could be further incidents, and went to our room to lie down. This played right into her hands, of course. Five minutes later she was snuggled beside me, ignoring all my attempts to pretend I was angry.
"Anyway, it's just weird," said Buffy, sharing a Coke with Willow at the university cafeteria. "What I mostly remember is that room being full of my Dad's old stuff–and not having any wallpaper at all–but when could that have been? That was always Dawn's room."
"Don't feel bad, I can't even remember our phone number half the time!" said Willow. "I always give people my old number by mistake." She sipped her drink. "Hey, maybe it was full of your Dad's stuff after Dawn moved here. Only... she left L.A. after you, didn't she?"
"What do you mean? We both moved together, with my Mom." Buffy seemed to be in pain suddenly, holding her head in her hands.
"Really?" Willow frowned. "I remember coming by your house that first year. Dawn wasn't around."
"Sure she was, she–" Buffy winced and doubled over, jarring the table.
Willow jumped up and took Buffy's arm. "You OK?"
Buffy didn't move or speak. Then she let out a pained sigh and sat up again. "Yeah. I don't know what came over me. I think it's over."
"Where does it hurt? Has this happened before? Do you need a doctor?" babbled Willow, concerned. Buffy just shrugged, not wanting to talk.
"I know the perfect time!" laughed Dawn. "We'll announce it at Xander and Anya's wedding!"
Willow and Buffy and I collapsed into hysterics. It was late and we were getting quite silly. It was a running joke between the four of us: Buffy and Dawn would reveal their love to the rest of the group by announcing their engagement–despite what the state of California might think of this–at the most inappropriate time possible. Buffy and Dawn embarked on a mock fight over whose last name they would use, and Willow and I just shook our heads. Sooner or later, the rest of the Scoobies would have to be told–against all odds, this relationship looked like it was built to last. But for now, it was kind of fun having our little secret from the others.
Finally, Giles arrived at our house for the meeting, along with Anya, Xander and Spike. We quickly composed ourselves, and Buffy carefully put some distance–at least an inch–between herself and Dawn.
"So what's up?" asked Buffy. "Why did you want Dawn to join us?" Dawn scowled. As the Slayer's lover, she didn't feel nearly as left out as she used to. But she wished Giles and the others would let her be just another member of the gang instead of treating her as a victim waiting to happen. How old had the others been when they first began helping Buffy? Buffy almost always brought Dawn along, but Giles clearly still didn't assume she'd be present for Scooby meetings.
"The Council has more information on the Soulbridge," said Giles. "And they think it has to do with the Key." He nodded at Dawn. "With or without Glory, evil forces are always seeking the Key, of course." Buffy's face darkened and she squeezed Dawn's hand. "But if reports are correct, there is a new force on our side, or perhaps a tool that might be useful: the Soulbridge. We still don't know what it is, but some powerfully evil creatures seem to have detected it and are taking it seriously. So if it's someone–or something–that might help to guard Dawn, then we'd better find out how." Buffy listened intently–protecting Dawn was not only the apex of her Slayer instincts, but also the most important thing in the world to her personally.
Willow spoke up next. "Well I don't have much for you, I'm afraid. I've scoured the net and tracked down only one reference to the Soulbridge. It's in a small book by a fifteenth-century warlock from Venice. A Danish witch emailed me the relevant paragraph, but it says nothing about what the Soulbridge actually is. The author just speculates that, with a perfect pillar at each end, such a bridge could be built. I doubt that he's talking about anything physical, but it's really very vague. The chapter itself is about 'ripples in the skin of Hell' which demons are able to feel. That's basically true, although his terminology is strange. My educated guess: that's how our enemies know about the Soulbridge. It must have magical power which can be felt by certain kinds of demon." She spread her hands helplessly. "But that tells us nothing about what it is or what it does."
Spike contributed next. "I've been hearing vampires asking about the Soulbridge. Apparently the local vampires know bugger-all–they're just as curious as we are–but whatever it is, the rumor has reached Sunnydale." The vampire glanced at Buffy, unconsciously seeking some sign of approval, but she was lost in thought. She didn't seem to have much time for him anymore.
"Keep searching," said Buffy. "This is important." We all nodded. "Dawn, we won't rest until we know what this is all about."
"Thanks," said Dawn. She seemed quite downcast at this reminder that she would always be a target of evil.
"I think that's everything, then," said Giles. "Vampire activity in Sunnydale has nearly returned to normal, so we should let Buffy get slaying." For months after Buffy defeated the god Cael Hagn, vampires and demons alike had been keeping a low profile, terrified of rumors that Buffy had become some kind of super-Slayer. Which had been true, briefly, although Giles did not know it.
Xander stood up to use the bathroom. On his return he said to Dawn jokingly, "You're crazy, I couldn't sleep on just a mattress. Don't you even need a pillow?"
Dawn was confused at first, then made up something quickly about how she heard it was good for you to sleep flat. And without a blanket. She felt stupid–she should have kept her bed made even after moving to Buffy's room. Her own bed had been bare for weeks, and people had noticed.
Luckily, she thought of something to change the subject. "Hey, while you're all here, I have a question."
"Shoot," said Xander.
"Whose homeroom was I in when I started at Sunnydale High? You and Willow and Buffy used to drop me off sometimes."
Strangely, nobody could remember. Not even Dawn herself.
That night Dawn whimpered in her sleep and clutched Buffy's hand tightly. The Slayer felt helpless. She knew Dawn had been having terrible nightmares more and more often. That must explain why Dawn was sleeping so much during the day.
Continue to Chapter 2 – The Spies.
Dawn climbed shakily down from her stool. She had naively thought she was quite the expert at making love. Buffy certainly seemed more than satisfied. But what she had just seen left her stunned–and feeling distinctly inadequate.
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