Numb and Number: Chapter Five

[jesterladyfic]

Giles picked up the phone and dialed the newly memorized numbers. His fingers still itched to dial the old ones and thereby keep hold of the way things were before this new world that no longer made sense to him. He waited somewhat impatiently, taking his glasses off and putting them back on several times.

“How may I help you?” The professional tone rang in his ear and he winced at the high pitch of it.

“This is Rupert Giles. I was hoping to speak with Weston Meyers.”

“Is he expecting your call?”

“No, I’m afraid not. But this is a rather urgent matter and I am certain he’ll want to speak to me.”

“If you’ll just hold, Mr. Giles, I’ll see if Mr. Meyers is available.” Giles waited again, still agitated. He glanced
over at the kitchen where Buffy was talking in a low voice with Spike and fixing some dinner for everyone. He started
as a nasally voice came over the phone.

“This is Weston Meyers. What can I do for you, Mr. Giles?”

“Yes, hello. I’ve recently taken charge of the new Watcher’s Council. I know that our institutions have had
several alliances in the past. I was hoping that you could help me as I am looking for some information about one of
the institutions which we are not on friendly terms with. Recently some of their activity has caused us quite a lot of
concern and since they seem to be unavailable at the moment, information from our archives has pointed me towards
you as a reliable source.”

“If you’re trying to sweet talk some info about W & H out of me, Mr. Giles, I’m afraid you’re talking to the wrong
person. But even were I not bound by client confidentiality, I could tell you this: There is no info about them to be
had, by anyone, anywhere. They’ve simply disappeared, off the face of the planet, as it were.”

“I’m afraid I don’t see how that’s possible,” Giles protested in a slightly louder voice. Spike and Buffy paused
their dinner preparations to listen to the conversation, Spike, undoubtedly, to both ends.

“Wish I could say different, sir, but that’s the way it is. I’ve heard rumors far and wide about what’s become of
them. Everything from aliens, to total annihilation, to the idea that they’ve vanished into all the pregnant ladies.”

“That’s utterly absurd,” Giles commented bitterly. “I’m quite certain there must be a rational explanation as to
their disappearance and I’m equally certain you are aware of it.”

“Now, Mr. Giles, I don’t know you and there’s no reason to get so excited. Just be glad that there aren’t worse
things going on. If the rational theory that you speak of is really there, I’m sure you’ll find it. If I were you, I’d watch
the skies. But that’s all I’ve got to say, so I’ll be telling you goodbye now.”

“Wait-" Giles began before the dial tone rang in his ear. He hung up loudly and cursed.

“Got a bit of bitter in you, Watcher?” Spike asked with raised eyebrow. Giles shook his head, annoyed.

“The tosser wouldn’t tell me anything. Watch the skies, indeed!” he harrumphed.

“We should do what he says,” came a voice from the corner of the room. Everyone turned to stare. Oz had
been sitting there quietly reading, but now he turned his face from the window where the full moon shone brightly.
His eyes were amber. “Signs are coming. I feel them,” he stated and then turned back to his book.

“What does that mean exactly?” Buffy asked a little shortly. Giles suppressed a smile in spite of his own
irritation. Buffy didn’t do cryptic. Well, from other people anyway.

“Means I don’t ignore the animal within,” he replied and walked into the other room where Willow was keeping
an eye on Wesley.

Buffy started after him in irritation, but Spike stopped her as he seemed to tap into his own senses.

“Something’s not right, love. It’s more than normal chaos going on. Dog-Boy’s onto something.”

“If only he said what that something was I could kill it,” she muttered. Spike just shook his head.

“Can’t explain it either. But nothing smells right outside this room. I’ve been noticing something off ever since
that night in the alley, but was too busy and just marked it all up to the bloody trauma, but now…” Spike trailed off
and didn’t say anymore. That scared them enough to not press the issue.

Giles listened to them with growing alarm. Spike, Oz and Angel were more aware of their surroundings than
even Buffy and much closer to the primal side of life. He trusted their instincts because he’d seen them proven true
time and time again. This was apocalyptic. Not that apocalypses weren’t common enough these days, but
something didn’t feel right. All his research of late, his forays into W & H, his questioning of what happened in the
alley, it all pointed toward something he didn’t much like the idea of. He hurried to his books to try and make sense
of it.

***

Buffy smiled a little as she watched the familiar sight of Giles and his books and then turned to Spike.

“Talk to Oz, I want you two to collaborate and let me know what the sense report is saying.”

“That an order?” he asked casually, quirking an eyebrow. Buffy smiled.

“Well, if it is, I promise a reward later. If not, you should just trust my judgment since this is my line of
expertise after all. Among other things, of course.”

Spike smirked and ghosted his lips along her neck before going to fulfill the order. Buffy shivered at the
sensation and suddenly felt like she was the one who had been manipulated.


***


Oz still started every time he walked into the same room as Willow. His wolf was reacting to the presence of the woman he’d claimed as his mate. Fortunately, his human side realized what the wolf did not. This was not the same woman, nor was he the same man.

On the other hand, the wolf realized many things that the man didn’t. For one thing, Oz could find out what was
happening in Willow’s life through his own persistence, observation and devotion, but only the wolf could have
detected the huge, dark cloud that hovered over the world since Angel and his team had gone up against Wolfram &
Hart. Only it could have known that now was the time to reveal himself and possibly save the life of the woman he
loved.

The wolf scared him. But he’d learned to trust its instincts. There had been many times over the past few
years when he’d been saved by them. They'd made him want to run away, but now they had forced him to come
back and fight. Oz wanted to move past the past and his wolf was helping him to do just that.

“What’s going on out there?” Willow asked, not looking up. She was still visibly nervous about being around
him and Oz couldn’t really blame her. That didn’t mean the wolf didn’t howl with frustration though.

“Giles tried to get info. Didn’t work.”

“What does that mean?”

“Bad stuff is coming, Will,” he said quietly.

She nodded.

“I know. I can feel it.”

“How?” Oz’s face was visibly disturbed, a sure sign that he felt the deeper meaning of what she said.

“I’m stained,” she said simply. “I can feel the call, to join in, unleash, be free...release the world.”

“You’ll move past it,” he told her assuredly. She laughed a little bitterly.

“I’ve moved past. That’s not what I’m worried about.” She was quiet for a few minutes before quietly admitting
to one of the only people he knew she’d ever let see her vulnerable, “I hate feeling this way. It’s like I’m so dirty and
no amount of washing will ever make me clean. I can feel the purity and refinement of the magic within me, I can.
But every so often it hits a black patch that seems to sully it for awhile and hurts it. It hurts me. When the magic of
the world is so messed up and twisted like it is right now because of whatever this thing is, it’s even worse.” Willow
kept her face from him, obviously not wanting him to see the tears that seemed to refuse to stay in her head where
they belonged. “And I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Oz was silent behind her, but he hoped Willow could feel an old presence, something comforting and solid. He
put his arms at her back and enveloped her and she suddenly breathed in, as if breathing in his presence. She clung
to him for a moment.

“I’m here,” was all he said. Hope seemed to spring into her face, but she pulled away rapidly as if she
remembered where she was.

“Sorry,” she said hastily. “I didn’t mean to go all weepy on you. After all, it’s been a long time.”

“But some things never change,” he said firmly. She smiled a little.

“No, I guess some things don’t. Still, I’m fine and we just need to figure this out. Then Buffy will slay and we’ll
be okay.”

Oz kept his thoughts about this being way bigger than the Slayer to himself. He simply nodded and handed Willow a tissue.

A knock resounded on the door and he moved away from her side before Spike entered the room.

“Got a mo?” he asked Oz idly. Oz wasn’t fooled by Spike’s casual tone, but he nodded and left the room with
Spike and they slipped into Buffy’s room where there were no other people.

“Care to explain the sign mumble jumble you’ve been on about, mate?” Spike asked right out. Oz didn’t reply
immediately. It was true that he’d known about the off kilter direction the world was headed in since before he’d
arrived. But he hadn’t mentioned it to anyone and he didn’t know what Spike would think about that.

“I know you can feel it too,” he finally said. Spike nodded.

“Yeah, but I’m not the one who went all prophecy back there. I simply tuned into my senses. Why you so
convinced we all gotta hide from the end of the world and why the bloody hell do you got to be cryptic about it?”

Oz paused. It was funny, but he wasn’t sure how to answer. He had difficulties in telling information. It had
always been his policy to keep his cards close to the chest and the past few years had only amplified that tendency.

“I have trust issues,” he finally said. “No call for therapy, but I’ve found it wiser to not spill everything I know
right away.”

“You’ve known these people for years,” Spike pointed out. “You were all buddy-buddy with the ridiculous gits,
why the sudden fall out?”

“Things change,” Oz said quietly. “I left a different person. I’m even more different now. They’ve changed too.”

“It happens,” Spike said dryly. “Look at me.”

Oz smiled.

“You are quite the sideshow.”

“Tell me about it.” Spike rolled his eyes.

“My point is that I don’t know what’s coming. You know all I know, that things are bad. Willow told me she can
feel it too. But I can’t be what I was and Buffy will have to get used to that.”

“Apparently you never used to talk, so I don’t know as she’ll have to adjust much,” Spike told him, not even
acting surprised that Oz knew this was Buffy’s mission and not his.

“I’m sure it will show up,” was Oz’s simple reply. Spike nodded.

“I get you, mate. But we need all the bloody help we can get. I can feel the darkness. Part of me loves it.”

“Me too,” Oz admitted.

“So don’t be mum, k?” Spike asked. Oz nodded.

“Great,” Spike said, gesturing the way out of the room. “Now I’m gonna go get Miss Nosy off my back and you
can relieve Red.”

The two hybrids headed their different ways, each feeling the strain of the evil days.


***

Spike knew he was dreaming. Places like this didn’t exist except in dreams. The long hallway stretched endlessly before him, held up by tall, perfectly white, marble columns that reached to join the pristine, white ceiling. He was the only thing of color in that place and even then he was only black and white himself. The duster flapped loudly and he winced as he walked, wondering if there was anyone to hear him.

“I hear you, sweet,” came a voice from behind him. Spike whirled around, surprised that someone could have
come up so quietly and that they had just spoken his thoughts. His surprise was lessened when he discerned who it
was.

“Drusilla.” She came closer to him, holding out her hands. She was dressed in a gown as black as midnight,
but her skin was so blindingly white that the black was almost overshadowed. The struggle of purity and carnage
had always been very strong in her, Spike reflected quickly. He hoped that the purity was winning now even as the
insanity and the demon surged to overpower her.

“How I’ve longed to see my boy,” she told him, a smile lighting up her face with glee. “Now at last you’re here
and we can start the party.”

“What party might that be, love?” he asked her warily. It was odd how even now his heart yearned toward her
and the joy they’d shared. But he did not feel guilty, because he knew his girl was even now sleeping beside his
body and that this Drusilla did not even exist.

“To celebrate me, silly,” she giggled. Spike let her take his hand and lead him towards an alcove off the hallway
with several couches and a small table set for two.

“What have you been doing what’s worth celebrating, Dru?” he asked her as they sat down and she started to
pour out blood into china teacups.

“I made you,” she said impatiently. “Can’t you see, my William? You could see before, and that’s why I chose
you.”

“See what?” he asked again. He knew how long it would take her to get around to what he needed to know.
That was his specialty, knowing her.

“It’s not nice to talk before eating, Spike,” she reproved him. “Drink it all down and then we’ll open our mouths
for other things. If you don’t, I shall be very cross and send you away.” Spike obediently downed his glass and the
taste almost killed him. It was human blood. Something he hadn’t had in a very long time.

“Bloody hell, Dru!” he shouted. “I can’t go back.” She sipped her blood, savoring the liquid, and looked at him
with amusement.

“Of course not. That would be utterly absurd. I know. You must go forward and I’ll help.”

“Why would you want to do that, pet?” Spike asked her suspiciously as he settled back down.

“It’s something I’m supposed to do. Miss Edith says so!” she said with tears in her voice and a pout on her
lips. “I know I’m a lie, but I rose above and now you hate me for it. But it wasn’t my fault and you have to see or you
won’t try.”

“Now, now.” Spike put his arms around her like he used to until she quieted down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to
upset you, love.”

She sat up and smiled at him.

“I’ll try to make you understand. Please understand or we can’t celebrate anymore and the party will end.”

“I’ll do my best,” he assured her. She smiled again.

“I wanted a knight before. I could choose anyone and make them all mine. Angelus and Grandmother laughed
at me. They sit so high, they think. But I could hear it whispering to me and I knew exactly.”

“Exactly what?”

“That they’d chosen you, William,” she said and now her words changed to almost perfect lucidity as if some
other force wanted to make sure Spike could comprehend her every word. “I chose you with the eyes of love and
sight. It floated all over you, the signs of destiny and force. It hissed inside me to choose the beauty effulgent. I
knew that the evil we’d share would intoxicate for years and that my share in you would last forever. They chose me
too.” Her face was in raptures as it used to look when Spike would kill someone for her or bring her a gift. He
swallowed hard as he thought about what she’d said.

“Who, Dru?” he asked impatiently. “Bloody who?”

“Them,” she growled. “Not your business to know. All you have to do is know that you cannot turn away. It’s
laid out and sung and that’s my last gift to you.”

“Gift?” he questioned. She sighed and put her cup down as she lovingly cupped his chin while her other hand
pressed down on his arm with each nail digging in.

“I gave you to good and evil hated me. Now you will have her, then light, and so be saved by my evil.”

“And what about you, love?” Spike ached as always to see the confusion and pain in her eyes, like a child who
wanted its mother.

“I’ll always be here, lurking,” she giggled. “And though you have to go, my party will last even longer now that I
did good again.”

“I do miss you, Dru,” he told her sincerely. She rolled her eyes at him.

“Can’t ever get away, my sweet. Don’t try.” She stood up and led him back down the hallway. “Cry for a time,
Spike, but let the tears wash away and not you be washed away. Light is crueler by far than the dark.” Spike didn’t
answer. He didn’t want to know. He just kept walking down the hallway with his black goddess by his side until he
realized that she wasn’t there at all and he was walking on his own.


***

Buffy felt Spike tensing and stirring by her side and she reached out a hand to steady him. Sitting up, she turned on the small light by her bed and then faced him as he lay staring at the ceiling.

“Bad dream?” she asked quietly. He nodded.

“Anything in particular?” she asked again. She didn’t like being shut out, but she was trying to be sensitive.
He didn’t answer her. “Talk to me, please?” She decided to try begging. Spike gave a little laugh and grasped her
hand in his.

“Never thought I’d see the day when you wanted me to talk, love.”

“Neither did I,” she told him. He turned to face her and turned her over and wrapped his arms around her so that
he held her back to his chest.

“Wasn’t a bad dream. Was an interesting dream though.”

“What was it about?”

“Dru,” he answered quietly, not saying anything else, probably waiting for her to stiffen. She did a little, but all
she said was,

“Not the best thing to be telling your girl, you know, that you’ve been dreaming about your ex. Might be giving
me dusty thoughts.”

“Wasn’t like that,” he assured her. “But she’ll always be there, Buffy. Dru has a way of worming inside and
never leaving.”

“Well, so do I,” she warned him. He laughed again.

“Don’t I bloody well know. Anyways, she was telling me something about why she chose to turn me.”

“What did she say?” Buffy turned her head to look at him.

“I think she said that her visions told her to do it because I had something important to do later on. Don’t know
what that means, but guessing that all this bollocks that’s been my life was all for the sake of something. Don’t
really like the idea much. Not a big one for destiny and I hate other people messing around with me. They can fetch
their own sodding sticks for all I care.”

“Shh, Spike,” she told him. “I know what destiny’s like better than anyone, but anything that brought you to me
is okay by me, including Drusilla.”

“So if I ever run off on a quest one day, you won’t have a problem staying home and minding the farm?” he
queried cheekily.

Buffy swatted him playfully and he grabbed for her, apparently deciding that destiny could wait. She was
awfully glad Willow had taken the Wesley night shift.


***

The next day the sun seemed darker to everyone. It was noticeable to the eye, not just the senses. The darkness that had pervaded the earth was now visible.

Buffy shivered as she opened the door to her balcony and stood above the streets of Rome in the early morning
light. It wasn’t just the cold, it was the dark.

“Come away from it, luv,” Spike said from behind her in the shadows. Yet, as she turned to him, Buffy felt that
he had more light than the sun, which now seemed tainted. She returned to his arms and they went to get some
breakfast.

Aside from Angel, who was in with Wesley, the rest of the group was scattered around the kitchen and living
area, eating breakfast of some kind.

“We need to find out what’s behind this, today if possible,” Buffy informed them. “I can’t stand this feeling of
wrong-ness in the air.”

“Buffy, I share your distaste for the evil that’s surrounding us, but I don’t see possibly how we could figure it out
today,” Giles reasoned. “None of our contacts are coming through for us.”

“I suppose if you weaklings cannot find me, I shall have to reveal myself,” came a cold and superior voice from
the sliding doors Buffy had left open. Buffy could see Spike’s hair stood up on the back of his neck as he recognized
the voice and Angel came racing out of the bedroom obviously with the same feeling. In the room he’d left behind,
Wesley’s form started to twitch and his eyelids to flutter.

The others watched with interest and some fear as the small, slender form of a woman came out of the
bedroom. The face could be called beautiful, though every part of her was tinged with blue or clad with leather; but
what was really off setting was the fact that her eyes looked like they were made out of ice and she tilted her head
with a strange, bird like gesture that was not human in the slightest. Willow’s eyes now opened wide in realization
and she visibly cringed at the change she could see before her.

“Illyria,” Angel said in slow, measured tones. “What do you want?”

“I have already told you, vampire,” she answered him disdainfully. “I will have this world as I should have had for
eons before.”

“Not while I’m in it,” he told her.

She turned away from him.

“I do not foresee this to be a problem.” She looked at the others each in turn and their hearts seemed to freeze
as she measured their souls.

“You think you will stand against me,” she told Buffy, “but your heart cannot prevail against my wonder.” She
turned to Willow. “Your mortal body holds you back from pure power. How weak a soul you have.”

Willow almost started forward, but Oz held her back. Illyria had already turned away.

“So you gonna tell us what you have to do with all this?” Spike asked her. “Or are you just gonna bore us to
bloody death?” She fixed her bird-like stare on him.

“What I choose to say should hold your ears with reverence. You forget who I am. I have chosen this world as my own and there is much to be done. I have walked many worlds since last you stood before me. Much have I discerned of the passage of time since my overthrow and that shame I can now rectify with the power of the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart, which are now mine.”

“So it’s you as has defeated them?” Spike asked.

“I have given them life,” she corrected him. “By allowing them into my presence and sustaining them by my
might. What they have is no longer their own and so would it be for any who defied me.”

“How can you stand there in her body and say that?” Willow asked quietly. Once more, Illyria’s eyes went that
direction.

“This shell is mine by chance and contains no reason for me to share its once held values. You should not
question me.”

Willow was quite clearly tired of being told what to do.

“You’re not the only one who doesn’t like being questioned!” she said, seething with anger, and Buffy realized
Willow was reaching with her mind for all the power she could find and then threw it toward the god-king. But instead
of her designed intent of explosion, bruising, or at least a wince, the power simply disappeared and Willow fell
forward, looking drained, as blood dripped down from her nose to her lip. “How’d, how’d you do that?” she gasped,
looking up at Illyria in awe.

Contempt marred the creature’s face.

“You would dare ask an Old One to reveal her own self?” With a flash of light Illyria opened a portal and
disappeared into it.

“Now you know that it is hopeless,” she said before the portal closed up.

The room was quiet as Oz helped a bleeding, tired, very angry Willow up and got her something to wipe the
blood with.

“It just got bad,” Angel informed everyone.

“Good call, Sherlock,” Oz said quietly.

“We should call in Faith,” Giles said to Buffy. “We need reinforcements.”

“Faith has her hands full,” Buffy said firmly. “I’m not calling her in. We’ve beaten worse things without more
Slayers, Giles.”

“Not worse,” Angel said.

“You always have to have worse bad guys than me, don’t you?” Buffy asked him wryly.

“We have over a thousand Slayers at our disposal then,” Giles insisted. “We should be prepared.”

“There aren’t any Slayers who are capable of taking care of something like this, Giles,” Buffy countered. “Just
me and Faith. Faith’s busy, guess I’m elected. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“But there will be strength in numbers.”

“Is that all they are to you?” Buffy asked incredulously. “Numbers? I know I’m not the best at learning their
names, but geez, Giles, I see them as people. They’re babies and they’re not ready for this. I promise you if we
can’t handle it, I will call Faith, but the new Slayers stay out of it.”

“You know best, as usual.” Giles let it go.

Buffy put a hand on his arm.

“Thank you.” He smiled and she could see the words meant everything to him.


***

“I can’t move my arms,” Willow said frantically as she thrashed them around. “I don’t know what’s happened to me. I’m going to kill her!” Oz bit his lips as he carried Willow into Buffy’s room and laid her gently on the bed.

“Will,” he said firmly, “you’re fine. You got the wind knocked out of you. Magically speaking.”

“But I’m bleeding and…” Willow’s voice trailed off as she seemed to regain control of her senses and reassess
her emotional and physical state. “I probably couldn’t even light a candle at the moment,” she said simply, but Oz
caught the suppressed rage in her voice.

“You just need rest,” he told her. “You’ll be lighting candles again tomorrow.”

“I shouldn’t have to rest!” she snapped, her eyes flashing black. “I have more power than I know what to do
with. How could she just take it like that? I need to know how. I need to be able to beat her. I have to control my
power or she’ll be able to take it again. I need more-“

Oz cut her off.

“What you need is sleep,” he said. “Your power talk is scaring me.” His words appeared to penetrate the red
mist Willow was seeing through, though it by no means dispersed it.

“You’re right,” she said calmly. “I’ll never get anywhere by being a bad patient. I can just rest and tomorrow I’ll
learn.” Oz was hit again how like and yet unlike this Willow was to his. She was so capable, so child-like, so
scarred, so unstable, so beautiful.

“Willow,” he sat down as she closed her eyes and started to breathe in more slowly. “I don’t know everything
you’ve been through. I know facts. But I don’t want to interfere or make it seem like you’re not competent. Just try
to remember what I once told you. I’m concerned for you. I don’t think endless jumps into more power is the way to
go. Losing control is scary, but I think it’s ourselves we need control over, not what others do to us.”

She opened her eyes and stared at him for a long moment. Oz held his breath as time seemed to slip away
from them. For a moment, he could almost believe she was his again. Her hand came up to his face and touched it
slowly, then moved down and just barely grazed the scar that peeked over his t-shirt. He winced at the reminder of
his folly, but didn’t move away.

“I forgave you,” she said softly, “like you forgave me. I was just…dazzled by pure beauty. How could I turn
away from her light?”

“I know I can’t,” he said just as softly. She smiled.

“But your light shines too.” She didn’t say anymore and the light in her eyes faded and he once again saw the
deep, emotional depths that had made it disappear.

“I should let you sleep,” he said and rose to go.

“Thank you,” he heard her whisper before he went out the door.

“Get control of yourself,” he muttered after he’d closed it.