Chapter 23
“I would live in your love as the sea-grasses live in the sea,/Borne up by each wave as it passes, drawn down by each wave that recedes;/I would empty my soul of the dreams that have gathered in me,/I would beat with your heart as it beats, I would follow your soul as it leads.” ~Sara Teasdale, “I Would Live In Your Love”
Joyce was rarely a participant in the Hellmouth activity. There had been the open house at the high school, before she’d known Buffy was the Slayer, and there had been the incident with the band candy, not to mention MOO, but that was pretty much it. Waking up to find her voice completely gone reinforced her feeling that she was better off as an on-looker.
The alarm had gone off, and she’d kissed Giles awake, watching as his eyes opened slowly. He’d tried to say good morning, but no sound had come out. She’d stayed calm with some effort, allowing Giles to pull her close, reassuring her with hands and lips because words wouldn’t come.
After that, she’d comforted herself with activities—fixing coffee and tea, then starting breakfast as soon as people began arriving. Spike and Buffy showed up first, Buffy giving first her mother and then Giles a hard hug.
Wesley and Willow arrived together, and Joyce noticed that Willow was hanging onto Wesley’s hand when they walked through the door. With a few scribbled messages, Wesley indicated that he’d been up for most of the night with Willow, researching Buffy’s Slayer dream.
Writing everything out was a slow process, and very frustrating for everyone concerned. Once Joyce started setting plates full of eggs and toast on the table, things seemed to settle down, however. It wasn’t long before Xander and Anya showed up, both of them looking unhappy with one another, yet not wanting to lose contact. Joyce could see the signs of a fight; she’d been through enough of them herself.
Joyce leaned against the kitchen counter, watching as Wesley and Giles scribbled notes back and forth, trying to resolve just what it was that had caused this sudden loss of their voices. Buffy had already identified the fact that it had something to do with her Slayer dream.
She felt a strong arm snake around her shoulders, and Joyce glanced over to see Spike standing next to her. She gave him a warm smile, and in return he squeezed her shoulder and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Suddenly, something occurred to her, and she touched his cheek, realizing that Spike’s skin was warm to the touch.
He seemed to realize what her gesture indicated, and Spike raised a hand, showing her the gem. Although Joyce didn’t know why the Gem of Amara would affect his body temperature, she decided not to ask.
Well, she decided it wasn’t worth the trouble to ask.
She didn’t mind when Spike left his arm where it was; it felt good to be in physical contact with someone, and Giles was busy, as he should be.
Not for the first time did Joyce give silent thanks that Spike was around.
~~~~~
“So you stayed at Wesley’s all night?”
Willow raised her eyebrows at Buffy’s scribbled message, then wrote back. “Nothing happened. I slept on his couch.”
“No smoochies?”
“No.” Willow sighed, then wrote, “This morning. A little one.”
They had both freaked out just a little when they realized that their voices were gone. At first, Willow had wondered if she’d done something wrong. If, perhaps, she had unwittingly performed some kind of spell that had affected them.
The sound of a slamming door in the hallway had Wesley motioning her to stay put while he went to check things out. It didn’t take long for them to realize that whatever had happened had affected a lot more people than the two of them. Several of Wesley’s neighbors were in the hallway, obviously seeking reassurance from someone or something, with none in sight.
Willow had been really grateful that she was with Wesley, and that he’d sensed her worry. It was mutual, though; she could tell that he’d been just as concerned.
After that, it had been an easy decision to head over to the Summers’ residence. Giles would be there, and Buffy and Spike were sure to show up. The house had become the unofficial gathering spot for the Scooby gang, now that Giles was living there pretty much full-time.
She and Buffy both looked up as Xander started snapping his fingers; he was pointing excitedly at the television, and they all wandered over. The newscaster was delivering the story: “Big news item from Sunnydale, California. Apparently, the entire town has been quarantined due to an epidemic of, as strange as this may sound, laryngitis. It seems the town has been rendered unable to speak. There’s no word yet on what might have caused this epidemic. Local authorities have issued a statement, a written statement, I should say, blaming recent flu vaccinations. A few skeptics call it a city-wide hoax. In the meantime, Sunnydale has effectively shut down. All schools and businesses will be closed for the time being, and residents are advised to stay home and rest up. The Center for Disease Control have ordered the entire town quarantined. No one can go in or out until the syndrome is identified or the symptoms disappear. We’ll bring you more on that as it develops.”
Buffy grabbed a piece of paper, scribbling a message and handing it to Giles. “I should be in town tonight.”
Spike came over and glanced at the words, raising his eyebrows.
Giles nodded slowly.
Joyce read the message and then mouthed, “Why?”
Spike explained. “People are going to be upset and probably acting stupid. We can try to keep order.”
Giles wrote his response to that, passing it around to the rest of the group. “Everyone else, stay inside. Too dangerous to be out on your own.”
Willow glanced over at Wesley, and he gave her a reassuring smile. She really hoped that he wouldn’t mind company for the night, because there was no way she was going to stay in her dorm room alone.
~~~~~
Buffy splashed water on her face, wondering how much coffee it was going to take to wake her up. She and Spike had been out for most of the night, until it looked like pretty much everybody had gone inside. They had run into Riley Finn, her TA from last semester, and while he’d given her a friendly nod, they hadn’t stopped to not-speak. She hadn’t been able to spare more than a moment to wonder what Riley had been doing wandering around, and had dismissed the question.
In some ways, not being able to talk had done wonders for her relationship with Spike. It probably hadn’t hurt that they’d had that really nice make-up sex right beforehand, but when you couldn’t speak, not talking about certain issues didn’t seem like such a big deal.
They had patrolled in perfect accord, just like always. Feeling him at her back or at her side had reminded her of how good it could be. How good it was. They had always communicated better through action than they had through words; at least, she had. Spike was better with the talking part, which made it that much harder when he wasn’t talking.
Buffy felt his hands slip around her from behind, and she twisted in his grasp. She wondered what it said about her that not seeing Spike in the mirror didn’t even faze her these days. Their lips met, and it was hello and good morning and I love you all in one.
When they finally broke it off, Spike rested his forehead against hers, and they stood that way for a long time, just remaining in contact. Buffy finally pulled back, looking up at him, raising her eyebrows in silent question.
With a sigh, Spike nodded, although he wanted nothing more than to stay home and be with his girl. They had their duties, though, and right now that required them to be at her mom’s house, helping the others with their research.
Buffy noticed that the silence was no longer uncomfortable, filled with things they wouldn’t say. The silence was scary because it held the unknown—an enemy no one understood—but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
She wondered what that meant for them, if it felt as good to Spike as it did to her, to know that they were okay in the silences between the words. When touch was all that spoke, it was enough.
It was a strange comfort.
~~~~~
Spike had smelled it on him. He hadn’t recognized the soldier on sight, but he had caught the antiseptic scent of the laboratory, and he’d hurried Buffy away, glad when she didn’t appear keen on stopping to chat.
He wanted to ask how she knew the wanker, but there wasn’t the opportunity or the time. Besides, Spike hadn’t wanted to get into it. Things between him and Buffy were good right now, and he didn’t want to mess it up.
Spike knew he’d been hard to live with. He’d been short tempered with nearly everyone—except possibly for Harris, whom he simply hadn’t spent much time with. To a large extent, he hadn’t been able to help it. It was never comfortable to be forced to question everything you thought you knew about yourself.
He thought he’d managed to repair much of the damage the previous night; re-connecting had been almost magical. Spike couldn’t help but wonder if Buffy had thought the illusion of body-heat strange, but she hadn’t seemed to mind. Perhaps it felt more like a novelty. In any case, it was almost a relief to not be able to speak.
Well, it was frightening, as well as rather upsetting, but at the same time, Spike didn’t feel pressured to talk about what was going through his head. Nor did he have to be concerned about the wrong thing coming out of his mouth and hurting Buffy’s feelings. That part was nice.
They had patrolled through town, trying to stop fights and keep people calm as best as possible. When simply pulling combatants apart and giving them a nudge didn’t work, they used force. Spike sensed more soldiers than just the one Buffy had seemed to know. They were among those trying to keep order, and he made sure to steer Buffy away from them anytime he caught a whiff of that laboratory smell.
It was the early hours of the morning before things calmed down. By that time, they were both ready to drop, and he and Buffy went back to his place to sleep. The Slayer had double-checked to make sure that Willow wasn’t going to be by herself, but she’d indicated that she was planning on staying with Wesley again. They were all pairing up; no one particularly wanted to be alone. The silence was overwhelming then.
As exhausted as they both were, Spike wasn’t surprised when Buffy pushed his shirt up as soon as they were inside the door, her warm hands running up and down bare skin. Spike allowed her to pull his shirt off, and he returned the favor, feeling a sense of desperation enter into their embrace.
Everything felt so ephemeral these days, as though it could all end in a moment. Buffy could realize exactly who and what he was, and Spike was horribly afraid that once she did, any love she had for him would die a sudden death.
It was a stupid fear, he knew that, but as Joyce had said, it took a little longer to believe something sometimes, even when you knew it was the truth.
~~~~~
Wesley couldn’t quite believe what had happened. Two days ago, he and Willow had been taking small steps towards a relationship. He hadn’t wanted to push her, for fear it would send her running. She’d been hurt so recently, Wesley wanted to give her all the time she needed to determine what she wanted from him.
Now, tonight, he stood in her dorm room, waiting for her to get a book she’d insisted she needed so she could come back over to his place.
Not that he harbored any illusions that they would be sharing a bed or anything, at least to do more than sleep. She’d slept in his bed last night as well, while he took the couch. It wasn’t quite long enough to accommodate him, and so his sleep had been fitful at best. He’d been awake when the demons had floated by, with their horrible grins and shambling minions.
Wesley was no artist, but he’d managed a credible representation, enough for Giles to figure out which demons had come to town and stolen their voices. That and the reports of the three gruesome murders, the bodies with the hearts ripped out, had been enough. Wesley supposed he’d helped, and that was something. He would have preferred to be out with Spike, hunting the creatures down. Sometime in the past months he’d grown used to being part of the action, rather than being relegated to research.
He glanced out the window. It was late, and he hadn’t wanted to come back to the dorms, concerned about risking Willow’s safety when the Gentlemen were about. Her notes had been insistent, however. She had every confidence that Buffy would manage to stop the creatures, and she had a reading assignment to finish for class the next day.
Wesley smiled. He couldn’t really blame her; he probably would have done the same thing.
Willow looked over her shoulder, giving him a quick grin and holding up a hand, indicating that it was only going to take one more minute. She went back to her computer screen, perusing an email that had to be answered that night. Wesley didn’t have a connection to the university’s servers at his apartment, so any email she wanted to answer had to be done immediately.
The pounding in the hallway startled the both of them, and Wesley exchanged an alarmed look with Willow. He motioned her to stay where she was then went over to the door. The pounding sounded again, and to his ears it held a sense of desperation.
He picked up the crossbow from where he’d set it by the door, peeking out into the hallway cautiously. Wesley could see a young girl beating desperately on a door just down the hall, casting fearful looks over her shoulder.
Knocking on the doorframe to get her attention, he motioned her to come near when she looked towards him. In response, she hurried towards him, and he could see the fear in her eyes. Over her shoulder, he could see what had caused her terror.
Two of the Gentlemen floated several inches off the floor, heading towards them, and Wesley could see their minions behind them. What’s worse, they had seen him and the open door, and he knew they needed to get somewhere a little more defensible.
Wesley looked back into the dorm room. Willow was watching him with wide eyes, and he gestured to her to hurry. She grabbed her pack and slung it over her shoulder. Wesley ushered her out the door, pushing the two girls ahead of him, down the hall and out the exit door.
If it had just been him and Willow, he probably would have tried making a break for his bike, but with the other girl there as well, it wasn’t a possibility. If he’d known Willow would be able to drive the motorcycle, he’d have sent the two of them on, and he’d have stayed behind to guard their backs as they made their getaway.
As it was, he just had to hope that they would be able to defend themselves.
~~~~~
Xander knew Anya was still mad at him, even though she hadn’t left his side all day and all last night. No one wanted to be alone just now.
Of course, that didn’t mean she was planning on forgiving him any time soon.
Anya had refused to sit next to him on the bed, instead taking the recliner. Although Xander knew the chair was comfortable, he didn’t want Anya sleeping there, particularly since he wanted her with him.
He just didn’t know how to tell her that.
The crazy part was that not hearing Anya’s voice had shown him how much he liked hearing her talk, even when he was tuning her out. Xander liked her crazy observations on the world, and her commentary on life. He missed the way she said his name, and the way she cuddled up next to his side.
And there was no way to tell her that.
She’d asked how much he cared, and the answer to that was “a lot,” but without a way to say it, Xander had no idea how to convince her. He was scared that once their voices did return, she wouldn’t stick around long enough for him to get the words out, even if he could.
Xander wasn’t so sure about that. Telling someone you really liked them—maybe even loved them a little bit—was about the scariest thing he’d done. Not even facing down scary Jack O’Toole could compare.
Gritting his teeth, Xander stood, rooting around among his things for a piece of paper and something to write with. He’d pretty much gotten rid of anything that would remotely remind him of school when moving down to the basement, and not even for Anya was he willing to tear out a page of his comic books.
Finally coming up with a piece of scrap paper and a pen, Xander tried to scribble down the few words he thought might patch things up.
Except the pen wasn’t working.
Letting out a silent curse, Xander went in search of something else to write with. He had no desire to go upstairs, risking a run-in with one or both parents. The enforced silence meant that they were drinking more than usual, and Xander had a feeling that his father’s inability to shout curses would only result in his being free with his fists.
A pen appeared in front of his nose, and he glanced up at Anya, who was holding it out to him, impatience written all over her face.
Xander sighed, then wrote his message, hoping that Anya would understand what he was trying to say.
She read his words, then her eyes got big and a big grin broke out over her face, just before she tackled him, knocking both of them back onto the bed.
The piece of paper floated to the floor, forgotten, although the words wouldn’t be anytime soon. “It’s not just about the sex. I miss hearing your voice.”
~~~~~
Buffy glanced around anxiously for Spike. Somehow, in all the chaos, they’d become separated. Although she knew he couldn’t be harmed, not with the gem on, she still feared for him. She supposed worrying over Spike was second nature to her at this point.
Another one of those Igor-things shuffled her way. They moved scary-fast, a lot faster than you’d think they should be able to. Buffy lashed out with a round-house kick, trying to figure out where they would be heading. She needed to find out how to kill them and get everyone’s voices back.
Actually, reverse the order, since she’d need her voice before she could kill them.
It was really too bad she had to do something so stereotypically girly like scream in order to kill the ghoulish creatures. Buffy was used to kicking ass, not calling for help, but if screaming was what it took, that’s what she’d do, and she’d burst their eardrums while she was at it.
Someone caught her arm, pulling her out of the way of the demon’s grasping arms. Spike’s heavy boot caught the demon under the chin, and it sailed about twenty feet before it hit the ground. Buffy turned to look at him, seeing his manic grin before he began pulling her along towards the clock tower.
Buffy looked up, seeing lights at the top, which was certainly not normal. No one went up there anymore. She nodded at Spike, indicating that she understood, and they both took off running, dodging the demons in their straight-jackets.
The Slayer had seen some pretty creepy things in her time, but the Gentlemen, with their bright, gleaming smiles and mummy-esque minions topped the list. She was just grateful that Giles was with her mom and Wesley was with Willow. Xander would be safe enough tucked away in his basement lair. It was only Spike she needed to be concerned about, and he looked like he was having the time of his life.
At least Spike seemed to finally be coming out of his funk.
~~~~~
Wesley slammed the door shut, looking around for anything to brace it. He had a feeling that now that the demons had seen them, they wouldn’t be dissuaded by a mere door.
Willow tugged on his sleeve, looking over at the soda machine. Wesley immediately got what she was thinking, and pulled both Tara and Willow over by the wall. Willow took his hand immediately, their fingers intertwining.
The soda machine shifted a few feet and stopped. Wesley hissed soundlessly. Without the proper implements to focus his small power, he wasn’t going to be much help. They tried again, in concert, and it slid a few more feet, but it was still short of the door.
He felt a sudden jolt as a rush of power hit him, and the heavy machine hit the door with a big thud. Looking over, he saw the stranger’s hand in Willow’s, who was looking at the girl with a new respect.
He experienced a jolt of jealousy, but then Willow let go of the girl’s hand, while still keeping a tight grip on his. She did shift closer to the girl, though, as though to provide support, and the three of them waited in silence for either the return of their voices or the arrival of morning.