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Threads: Insomnia (Part 7)
Threads: Insomnia (Part 7)
Author: AkaiNagi
Rating: R for language
Genre: X-over with Stephen King’s Insomnia. AU: does not adhere to season three cannon i.e. Faith, Angel’s return, etc.
Summary: Buffy returns from Phoenix carrying a curse, one she must face alone. But when she disappears again, will anyone, even her Watcher, keep faith in her?
[Hello, Buffy Summers. We have been waiting for you].
Buffy stood her ground, determined to keep herself between the creatures and the completely oblivious Giles.
Upon seeing her defensive stance and look of grim determination, the creatures glanced at each other with alarm in their eyes. Their completely lineless features betrayed their emotions.
[Please do not be alarmed. We are not like our-
[Fellow] [Opposite] [--------]
The last definition was the most accurate, but the words to describe it danced at the edges of Buffy’s consciousness, eluding her. She did not relax her guard in the least.
[”You mean your nasty little buddy with the scalpel? And those scissors your carrying are for what, giving yourselves a haircut?”]
Buffy gestured to their bald heads with a sarcastic glint in her eye.
The creatures looked taken aback, clearly not having expected such vehemence.
[It is true that, like Atropos, we are responsible for the severing. But Atropos is an agent of the random. We do not sever with malice. We are agents of The Purpose.]
Buffy tried to process this.
[”Atropos? Is that the name of the one who tried to cut the little girl? Is that what you call Sever?”]
The two Docs looked at each other with knowing smiles, like adults smiling indulgently over the fumbling of a small child. Buffy found it incredibly annoying.
[We do not have names as you short-timers do. But for the sake of communication, we will adopt them. You may call my colleague here Lachesis, and myself Clotho, after those you short-timers once called ‘Fates.’ Now, you must come with us, for we have much to explain, and very little time]
The one called Clotho held out his hand. Buffy eyed it as if it were a dangerous object.
[”Whoa there, half-pint. Make with the explaining, and then maybe I’ll consider going with you”]
Clotho and Lachesis looked at each other with something akin to panic.
[Please, Buffy. We will explain all we can, but you must come. Another is waiting, and there is no time.]
It was the pleading in Clotho’s voice that made her drop her guard. Whatever these two creatures were, they were far from the profanity-spewing malicious little gnome they called Atropos. Their gowns were sparkling white, while the other’s had been dirty and stained. Their delicate greenish auras radiated beneficence, while Atropos had no aura at all. But one question was still foremost in Buffy’s mind.
[”Just answer me this: did you do this to me? Is it your fault I’m seeing all this? Is it because of you that I haven’t slept for months? It is, isn’t it?”]
Again, Clotho and Lachesis looked at each other, as if conferring over the right thing to say. Clotho was the one to answer this. Buffy detected a hint of apology in his voice, which was probably the only reason she didn’t lose her shit completely and stake both them on the spot.
[Yes. Regrettably it was necessary to deprive you of sleep to bring you to a state of readiness. To bring you to awareness without this preparation would have damaged your mind beyond repair. But it is all for a purpose, Buffy. One we will explain to you, but first you must come.]
Their faces were filled with plaintive desperation and a hint of fear. What were they afraid of? Buffy approached them slowly and, with no small amount of wariness, placed one hand in the perfectly smooth outstretched palm of Clotho, and another in the hand of Lachesis, completing the circle.
She felt an immediate jolt, and again there was the sensation of rising. It was nothing like before. There was both a sensation of rising and wild churning feeling in her mind and the pit of her stomach. Somewhere in the maelstrom she thought to herself that she probably should have asked where they were taking her. But it was too late. She shut her eyes against the onrush of noxious sensation, fighting a wave of nausea. When she opened them she found herself outside. The wave of nausea immediately receded, and she looked around. She was on the roof of what she first took to be the school. She pulled her hand from Lachesis’ and hurried to the edge of the building. It only took her one look at the street below and the adjoining buildings to realize that this was a far cry from Sunnydale. She advanced on the two Docs’, her tone accusatory.
[”Where the hell are we? Where the have you taken me?”]
A voice answered from off to her left. She had been so full of panic that she hadn’t even noticed the presence of another person.
[”You’re on the roof of my apartment building, if that helps.”
A tall, grey-haired man emerged from the shadows. Buffy placed him at under seventy years old, but not by much. He was fit looking, and neatly dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt. The man approached and held out his hand in greeting. He was smiling, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. And his eyes looked tired. Very tired. Or perhaps she was reading that off his aura, which radiated a dark, olive green.
[“John Cortez. Call me Jack. Always glad to meet a fellow insomniac.”]
Buffy only hesitated a moment before she shook the offered hand.
[”Buffy Summers. Call me Buffy. And where, may I ask, is this apartment building? ‘Cause this sure as hell isn’t Sunnydale.”]
[”Sunnydale? Shit. You’re a long way from Sunnydale. Welcome to L.A”.]
Buffy’s eyes widened as the implications of this set in.
[”L.A.? I’m in L.A.?”]
She glared daggers at the two Docs.
[”You brought me all the way to L.A.? You can’t just whisk me off to L.A.! I have responsibilities back in Sunnydale. I’m-]
Lachesis interrupted her.
[You are the Slayer. We know. It is because you are the chosen one that we chose you. Anyone else would have taken years to achieve awareness. But because your senses were already heightened as a Slayer, we were able to bring you up to this plane with only a minimum of preparation. Jack took two years of preparation to ready him for the events to come.]
Jack addressed Lachesis coldly.
[”And have I mentioned what a joy those years were? Not sleeping, thinking I was cracking up, friends ready to put me away in the funny farm? I assume you’ve put this young lady through the same kind of hell. Now would you mind telling us what all this ‘preparation,’ as you so neatly put it, was for?”
Clotho and Lachesis looked at each other. They both nodded, and Clotho, clearly the designated spokesman for the pair, stepped forward.
[I will start by telling you there are four immutable concepts in both your realm and ours. These are life, death, The Purpose, and The Random. Lachesis and I are agents of death, but also of The Purpose. When the time of severing comes for one who is of The Purpose, we are the ones who usher them out of this life. Other people, those who are marked as Random, fall under the domain of Atropos. You have each encountered him, have you not?]
Buffy and Jack looked at each other. The grim look on their faces each told the other all they needed to know. They both nodded. It was Jack who spoke.
[”He’s responsible for accidental deaths, isn’t he? And you’re responsible for natural ones?”]
Clotho shook his head.
[Even accidental deaths serve the Purpose. There is really no such thing as a natural death. There are only purposeful and random deaths. Each follows a pattern. When we go to one who is destined to depart this world, their aura is turned black. We often release them from pain and suffering, but sometimes we are called on to take those in the prime of life, even children, whose auras have suddenly turned. Atropos is responsible for what you short-timers would call Senseless death. When a fire kills a family in their sleep, when an infant dies suddenly for no apparent reason, it is likely the work of Atropos. He targets individuals at will, takes from each one a souvenir, and cuts their cords, turning their auras black of his own accord. The actual death is merely a fulfilling of the circumstances that Atropos has set into motion.]
Buffy remembered the pink hat on Atropos’ head, and the look on his face as he prepared to cut the little girl’s cord. It had been a look of almost sublime glee. And she remembered his rage at being interfered with. She addressed Clotho with more than a little venom.
[”He’s insane, isn’t he? Atropos is nuts, and you guys drafted us to stop him. So what are we supposed to do? Kick his ass and take his scalpel away? You guys can’t touch him so you want us to lay the smackdown on him? That’s why you fucked with our lives and our brains. Atropos’ job is killing people. So what could he possibly be planning to do that you need us for?”]
Clotho and Lachesis looked at each other and nodded. Clotho turned to Buffy and Jack.
[We could tell you, but time grows short. As you can see, time passes faster on this level of existence. If you will follow us, we will show you what Atropos has planned.]
Buffy and Jack both looked at the sky. As Clotho pointed out, dawn was already breaking. They followed as the two long-timers walked to the southern edge of the building. Lachesis pointed into the distance.
It didn’t take the two humans long to see what he was pointing at. It was glaringly obvious. Buffy estimated it to be less than two miles away. It looked like a giant black umbrella floating over a large building, or maybe a complex of buildings. It was thick and black, like the blackest smoke, hanging there in the distance. Buffy had never seen anything like it.
[”What is it?”]
Clothe addressed Jack.
[You know what it is, don’t you Jack]
Jack nodded, swallowing hard. He turned to Buffy.
[”It’s a deathbag. I’ve seen it around people who’ve had their cord cut by Atropos. But I’ve never seen it around a building before. What does it mean?”]
Clotho addressed the pair soberly.
[It means that the building, and all in it, has been marked for death by Atropos. You know what that building is, Jack.]
The older man’s face registered horror at the realization. Buffy could feel the dismay in his aura, even standing a few feet away. When Jack spoke his voice was tinged with shock.
[”That’s the Children’s Hospital. That little shit is going to destroy a hospital full of kids. And I think I know who he’s going to use to do it.”]
Author: AkaiNagi
Rating: R for language
Genre: X-over with Stephen King’s Insomnia. AU: does not adhere to season three cannon i.e. Faith, Angel’s return, etc.
Summary: Buffy returns from Phoenix carrying a curse, one she must face alone. But when she disappears again, will anyone, even her Watcher, keep faith in her?
[Hello, Buffy Summers. We have been waiting for you].
Buffy stood her ground, determined to keep herself between the creatures and the completely oblivious Giles.
Upon seeing her defensive stance and look of grim determination, the creatures glanced at each other with alarm in their eyes. Their completely lineless features betrayed their emotions.
[Please do not be alarmed. We are not like our-
[Fellow] [Opposite] [--------]
The last definition was the most accurate, but the words to describe it danced at the edges of Buffy’s consciousness, eluding her. She did not relax her guard in the least.
[”You mean your nasty little buddy with the scalpel? And those scissors your carrying are for what, giving yourselves a haircut?”]
Buffy gestured to their bald heads with a sarcastic glint in her eye.
The creatures looked taken aback, clearly not having expected such vehemence.
[It is true that, like Atropos, we are responsible for the severing. But Atropos is an agent of the random. We do not sever with malice. We are agents of The Purpose.]
Buffy tried to process this.
[”Atropos? Is that the name of the one who tried to cut the little girl? Is that what you call Sever?”]
The two Docs looked at each other with knowing smiles, like adults smiling indulgently over the fumbling of a small child. Buffy found it incredibly annoying.
[We do not have names as you short-timers do. But for the sake of communication, we will adopt them. You may call my colleague here Lachesis, and myself Clotho, after those you short-timers once called ‘Fates.’ Now, you must come with us, for we have much to explain, and very little time]
The one called Clotho held out his hand. Buffy eyed it as if it were a dangerous object.
[”Whoa there, half-pint. Make with the explaining, and then maybe I’ll consider going with you”]
Clotho and Lachesis looked at each other with something akin to panic.
[Please, Buffy. We will explain all we can, but you must come. Another is waiting, and there is no time.]
It was the pleading in Clotho’s voice that made her drop her guard. Whatever these two creatures were, they were far from the profanity-spewing malicious little gnome they called Atropos. Their gowns were sparkling white, while the other’s had been dirty and stained. Their delicate greenish auras radiated beneficence, while Atropos had no aura at all. But one question was still foremost in Buffy’s mind.
[”Just answer me this: did you do this to me? Is it your fault I’m seeing all this? Is it because of you that I haven’t slept for months? It is, isn’t it?”]
Again, Clotho and Lachesis looked at each other, as if conferring over the right thing to say. Clotho was the one to answer this. Buffy detected a hint of apology in his voice, which was probably the only reason she didn’t lose her shit completely and stake both them on the spot.
[Yes. Regrettably it was necessary to deprive you of sleep to bring you to a state of readiness. To bring you to awareness without this preparation would have damaged your mind beyond repair. But it is all for a purpose, Buffy. One we will explain to you, but first you must come.]
Their faces were filled with plaintive desperation and a hint of fear. What were they afraid of? Buffy approached them slowly and, with no small amount of wariness, placed one hand in the perfectly smooth outstretched palm of Clotho, and another in the hand of Lachesis, completing the circle.
She felt an immediate jolt, and again there was the sensation of rising. It was nothing like before. There was both a sensation of rising and wild churning feeling in her mind and the pit of her stomach. Somewhere in the maelstrom she thought to herself that she probably should have asked where they were taking her. But it was too late. She shut her eyes against the onrush of noxious sensation, fighting a wave of nausea. When she opened them she found herself outside. The wave of nausea immediately receded, and she looked around. She was on the roof of what she first took to be the school. She pulled her hand from Lachesis’ and hurried to the edge of the building. It only took her one look at the street below and the adjoining buildings to realize that this was a far cry from Sunnydale. She advanced on the two Docs’, her tone accusatory.
[”Where the hell are we? Where the have you taken me?”]
A voice answered from off to her left. She had been so full of panic that she hadn’t even noticed the presence of another person.
[”You’re on the roof of my apartment building, if that helps.”
A tall, grey-haired man emerged from the shadows. Buffy placed him at under seventy years old, but not by much. He was fit looking, and neatly dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt. The man approached and held out his hand in greeting. He was smiling, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. And his eyes looked tired. Very tired. Or perhaps she was reading that off his aura, which radiated a dark, olive green.
[“John Cortez. Call me Jack. Always glad to meet a fellow insomniac.”]
Buffy only hesitated a moment before she shook the offered hand.
[”Buffy Summers. Call me Buffy. And where, may I ask, is this apartment building? ‘Cause this sure as hell isn’t Sunnydale.”]
[”Sunnydale? Shit. You’re a long way from Sunnydale. Welcome to L.A”.]
Buffy’s eyes widened as the implications of this set in.
[”L.A.? I’m in L.A.?”]
She glared daggers at the two Docs.
[”You brought me all the way to L.A.? You can’t just whisk me off to L.A.! I have responsibilities back in Sunnydale. I’m-]
Lachesis interrupted her.
[You are the Slayer. We know. It is because you are the chosen one that we chose you. Anyone else would have taken years to achieve awareness. But because your senses were already heightened as a Slayer, we were able to bring you up to this plane with only a minimum of preparation. Jack took two years of preparation to ready him for the events to come.]
Jack addressed Lachesis coldly.
[”And have I mentioned what a joy those years were? Not sleeping, thinking I was cracking up, friends ready to put me away in the funny farm? I assume you’ve put this young lady through the same kind of hell. Now would you mind telling us what all this ‘preparation,’ as you so neatly put it, was for?”
Clotho and Lachesis looked at each other. They both nodded, and Clotho, clearly the designated spokesman for the pair, stepped forward.
[I will start by telling you there are four immutable concepts in both your realm and ours. These are life, death, The Purpose, and The Random. Lachesis and I are agents of death, but also of The Purpose. When the time of severing comes for one who is of The Purpose, we are the ones who usher them out of this life. Other people, those who are marked as Random, fall under the domain of Atropos. You have each encountered him, have you not?]
Buffy and Jack looked at each other. The grim look on their faces each told the other all they needed to know. They both nodded. It was Jack who spoke.
[”He’s responsible for accidental deaths, isn’t he? And you’re responsible for natural ones?”]
Clotho shook his head.
[Even accidental deaths serve the Purpose. There is really no such thing as a natural death. There are only purposeful and random deaths. Each follows a pattern. When we go to one who is destined to depart this world, their aura is turned black. We often release them from pain and suffering, but sometimes we are called on to take those in the prime of life, even children, whose auras have suddenly turned. Atropos is responsible for what you short-timers would call Senseless death. When a fire kills a family in their sleep, when an infant dies suddenly for no apparent reason, it is likely the work of Atropos. He targets individuals at will, takes from each one a souvenir, and cuts their cords, turning their auras black of his own accord. The actual death is merely a fulfilling of the circumstances that Atropos has set into motion.]
Buffy remembered the pink hat on Atropos’ head, and the look on his face as he prepared to cut the little girl’s cord. It had been a look of almost sublime glee. And she remembered his rage at being interfered with. She addressed Clotho with more than a little venom.
[”He’s insane, isn’t he? Atropos is nuts, and you guys drafted us to stop him. So what are we supposed to do? Kick his ass and take his scalpel away? You guys can’t touch him so you want us to lay the smackdown on him? That’s why you fucked with our lives and our brains. Atropos’ job is killing people. So what could he possibly be planning to do that you need us for?”]
Clotho and Lachesis looked at each other and nodded. Clotho turned to Buffy and Jack.
[We could tell you, but time grows short. As you can see, time passes faster on this level of existence. If you will follow us, we will show you what Atropos has planned.]
Buffy and Jack both looked at the sky. As Clotho pointed out, dawn was already breaking. They followed as the two long-timers walked to the southern edge of the building. Lachesis pointed into the distance.
It didn’t take the two humans long to see what he was pointing at. It was glaringly obvious. Buffy estimated it to be less than two miles away. It looked like a giant black umbrella floating over a large building, or maybe a complex of buildings. It was thick and black, like the blackest smoke, hanging there in the distance. Buffy had never seen anything like it.
[”What is it?”]
Clothe addressed Jack.
[You know what it is, don’t you Jack]
Jack nodded, swallowing hard. He turned to Buffy.
[”It’s a deathbag. I’ve seen it around people who’ve had their cord cut by Atropos. But I’ve never seen it around a building before. What does it mean?”]
Clotho addressed the pair soberly.
[It means that the building, and all in it, has been marked for death by Atropos. You know what that building is, Jack.]
The older man’s face registered horror at the realization. Buffy could feel the dismay in his aura, even standing a few feet away. When Jack spoke his voice was tinged with shock.
[”That’s the Children’s Hospital. That little shit is going to destroy a hospital full of kids. And I think I know who he’s going to use to do it.”]