Threads: Insomnia (Part 8)
Nov. 14th, 2010 02:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
akainagiThreads: Insomnia (Part 8)
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?
[”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.”]
Buffy tried to digest all this information. The magnitude of it was staggering.
[”Who, Jack? Who’s going to do it?”]
Jack turned to Clotho and Lachesis.
[”It’s Nick Westing isn’t it? Lachesis is controlling him somehow. He’s going to use him to destroy the hospital.]
Clotho and Lachesis nodded. Buffy was finding herself at a loss, and it was more than a little annoying.
[”Hey! Someone want to let the out-of-towner in on a few things. Who the hell is Nick Westing and how is he involved in all this?”]
Jack addressed her, his face grim.
[”Nick Westing is … was one of my neighbors. Known him for at least ten years. He and his wife moved in down the hall from me with their new baby. Little girl. Cutest thing you ever saw. When she was about six she got sick. Leukemia. She died at Children’s Hospital. After that Nick was never the same. He lost his job as a research chemist, started talking ragtime, slapping his wife around. She got smart and left him. Last year he almost got thrown out of the apartment complex for ranting and raving in the hallways. Something about how the Children’s Hospital was corrupt, was experimenting on little kids, sacrificing them to something called the Crimson King. He called Children’s a ‘factory of death.’ Real whacko stuff. Well he disappeared a couple weeks ago, no one’s heard from him since.”]
Something about this didn’t make sense to Buffy.
[”There’s something you’re not telling us, guys, and I don’t like it. Why are we here? I understand you want us to stop Atropos and this guy Westing. A hospital full of children goes up in a bombing or a fire or whatever. We have to stop this from happening. But thousands of people die in natural disasters around the globe. There are suicide bombings that take out schools, terrorist attacks that blow up buildings. What’s so special about this disaster that you all-important long-timers take notice?”]
Clotho and Lachesis registered a momentary surprise. It was the kind of look a person has when they try to pull a fast one and get busted.
[You are very perceptive, Buffy Summers. It is not the number of people that will die that spurs those above us to action. It is who. There is one among the would-be victims of this tragedy who is of great importance to The Purpose.]
[”Who?”]
[We do not know.]
Jack scowled.
[”Bullshit.”]
Clotho shook his head
[It is the truth. Buffy, you were wrong to call us all-important. It is true we are what you call long-timers, but we are merely servants of The Purpose. We are simply the intermediaries between Humans and the Higher Purpose. The identity of the one who must be protected was not shared with us. We were merely ordered to stop this event from happening at all costs. That is why we have drawn upon the two of you.]
Buffy took their word at face value for now. The day was quickly advancing into evening, and she had a feeling their little question-and-answer period would soon come to an end.
[”So we have to find this Nick Westing and talk him out of this? Or do we start with Atropos himself?”]
Clotho and Lachesis looked at each other with horror. Clotho replied with a sternness and a vehemence that took the two humans by surprise.
[No! You must not approach Atropos or Westing directly. The being they call the Crimson King has temporarily invested them with great power. They are surrounded by dark forces that will stop at nothing to destroy any who would interfere with their plans. To interfere with Atropos or Westing directly would risk a visit from the Crimson King, and that is a fight you cannot win.]
Jack laughed bitterly.
[”You guys aren’t going to make this easy on us, are you? We can’t preempt this thing? So we have to wait until the eleventh hour and try to stop the hammer from coming down? Isn’t that cutting it a little close?”]
Clotho and Lachesis looked up at the darkening sky nervously.
[It Is Thursday. The event in question, if you are unable to stop it, will occur sometime Sunday night. You have much to do and little time in which to accomplish it. Our time to palaver is at an end. You must go down Buffy, Jack.]
Buffy felt a pressure being applied on her from above. It was clear they were trying to push them back down to the short time world. Buffy vented her frustration in one burst.
[”You little shits! That’s it? You drag us up here, give us an impossible task, give us no clue about how to accomplish it, and just boot us down again?”]
She would have continued, but Jack’s hand on her shoulder stopped her ranting. It was futile anyway. Clotho and Lachesis were already fading from view. There was the familiar sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and they were back in the sort –time world. Even the auras were gone. Buffy looked off into the distance. The deathbag surrounding the hospital was gone. Just a normal L.A. evening.
It was Jack who spoke first. “So, Buffy Summers, if you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”
Buffy looked at him a little defensively. “Seventeen. And you?”
Jack chuckled. “Sixty-five.”
“Glad we got that cleared up,” Buffy said sarcastically.
“They called you The Slayer. What exactly are you a slayer of?”
Buffy shrugged, finding no reason to lie at this juncture. “Vampires mostly, the occasional demon, a zombie here or there.”
That knocked the confident smile off Jack’s face. “You’re kidding? That’s not a euphemism or something, is it?”
It was Buffy’s turn to laugh. “I wish.”
“How’d you land that gig?”
Buffy remembered her first meeting with Merrick. Then Giles. Shit! Giles!
“I need to use your phone!”
She followed Jack down a couple flights of stairs to a neatly furnished apartment. The walls were littered with photographs. Jack and an attractive woman who Buffy supposed was his wife. Jack uniformed in blue, with a pistol on his hip.
“You were a cop?” Buffy asked.
“In my last life, yeah. Phone’s over by the window,” he gestured to the cordless handset on a small side-table.
Buffy glanced at the wall clock. Six PM. She hastily dialed Giles’ home number. It rang five times before going to voicemail. She hung up and dialed the library number. What could he possibly be doing there so late? It rang. And rang. And rang. Buffy was about to hang up in despair, when a tired, blessedly familiar voice answered.
“Sunnydale High Library,” Giles answered.
“Giles! It’s me. Listen-“
“Hello … Hello?” Giles continued.
Static crackled on the line. “Giles. It’s Buffy. Can you hear me.”
“Hello? Look, … is … crank … not amused,” Giles said testily.
Buffy was yelling now. “Dammit, Giles!”
The static rose in pitch to a screech so loud Buffy had to hold the phone away from her ear.
Then silence.
Buffy warily brought the earpiece closer. What she heard chilled her to the bone.
[I told you, shorts. I’ll fuck your friends over.]
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?
[”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.”]
Buffy tried to digest all this information. The magnitude of it was staggering.
[”Who, Jack? Who’s going to do it?”]
Jack turned to Clotho and Lachesis.
[”It’s Nick Westing isn’t it? Lachesis is controlling him somehow. He’s going to use him to destroy the hospital.]
Clotho and Lachesis nodded. Buffy was finding herself at a loss, and it was more than a little annoying.
[”Hey! Someone want to let the out-of-towner in on a few things. Who the hell is Nick Westing and how is he involved in all this?”]
Jack addressed her, his face grim.
[”Nick Westing is … was one of my neighbors. Known him for at least ten years. He and his wife moved in down the hall from me with their new baby. Little girl. Cutest thing you ever saw. When she was about six she got sick. Leukemia. She died at Children’s Hospital. After that Nick was never the same. He lost his job as a research chemist, started talking ragtime, slapping his wife around. She got smart and left him. Last year he almost got thrown out of the apartment complex for ranting and raving in the hallways. Something about how the Children’s Hospital was corrupt, was experimenting on little kids, sacrificing them to something called the Crimson King. He called Children’s a ‘factory of death.’ Real whacko stuff. Well he disappeared a couple weeks ago, no one’s heard from him since.”]
Something about this didn’t make sense to Buffy.
[”There’s something you’re not telling us, guys, and I don’t like it. Why are we here? I understand you want us to stop Atropos and this guy Westing. A hospital full of children goes up in a bombing or a fire or whatever. We have to stop this from happening. But thousands of people die in natural disasters around the globe. There are suicide bombings that take out schools, terrorist attacks that blow up buildings. What’s so special about this disaster that you all-important long-timers take notice?”]
Clotho and Lachesis registered a momentary surprise. It was the kind of look a person has when they try to pull a fast one and get busted.
[You are very perceptive, Buffy Summers. It is not the number of people that will die that spurs those above us to action. It is who. There is one among the would-be victims of this tragedy who is of great importance to The Purpose.]
[”Who?”]
[We do not know.]
Jack scowled.
[”Bullshit.”]
Clotho shook his head
[It is the truth. Buffy, you were wrong to call us all-important. It is true we are what you call long-timers, but we are merely servants of The Purpose. We are simply the intermediaries between Humans and the Higher Purpose. The identity of the one who must be protected was not shared with us. We were merely ordered to stop this event from happening at all costs. That is why we have drawn upon the two of you.]
Buffy took their word at face value for now. The day was quickly advancing into evening, and she had a feeling their little question-and-answer period would soon come to an end.
[”So we have to find this Nick Westing and talk him out of this? Or do we start with Atropos himself?”]
Clotho and Lachesis looked at each other with horror. Clotho replied with a sternness and a vehemence that took the two humans by surprise.
[No! You must not approach Atropos or Westing directly. The being they call the Crimson King has temporarily invested them with great power. They are surrounded by dark forces that will stop at nothing to destroy any who would interfere with their plans. To interfere with Atropos or Westing directly would risk a visit from the Crimson King, and that is a fight you cannot win.]
Jack laughed bitterly.
[”You guys aren’t going to make this easy on us, are you? We can’t preempt this thing? So we have to wait until the eleventh hour and try to stop the hammer from coming down? Isn’t that cutting it a little close?”]
Clotho and Lachesis looked up at the darkening sky nervously.
[It Is Thursday. The event in question, if you are unable to stop it, will occur sometime Sunday night. You have much to do and little time in which to accomplish it. Our time to palaver is at an end. You must go down Buffy, Jack.]
Buffy felt a pressure being applied on her from above. It was clear they were trying to push them back down to the short time world. Buffy vented her frustration in one burst.
[”You little shits! That’s it? You drag us up here, give us an impossible task, give us no clue about how to accomplish it, and just boot us down again?”]
She would have continued, but Jack’s hand on her shoulder stopped her ranting. It was futile anyway. Clotho and Lachesis were already fading from view. There was the familiar sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and they were back in the sort –time world. Even the auras were gone. Buffy looked off into the distance. The deathbag surrounding the hospital was gone. Just a normal L.A. evening.
It was Jack who spoke first. “So, Buffy Summers, if you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”
Buffy looked at him a little defensively. “Seventeen. And you?”
Jack chuckled. “Sixty-five.”
“Glad we got that cleared up,” Buffy said sarcastically.
“They called you The Slayer. What exactly are you a slayer of?”
Buffy shrugged, finding no reason to lie at this juncture. “Vampires mostly, the occasional demon, a zombie here or there.”
That knocked the confident smile off Jack’s face. “You’re kidding? That’s not a euphemism or something, is it?”
It was Buffy’s turn to laugh. “I wish.”
“How’d you land that gig?”
Buffy remembered her first meeting with Merrick. Then Giles. Shit! Giles!
“I need to use your phone!”
She followed Jack down a couple flights of stairs to a neatly furnished apartment. The walls were littered with photographs. Jack and an attractive woman who Buffy supposed was his wife. Jack uniformed in blue, with a pistol on his hip.
“You were a cop?” Buffy asked.
“In my last life, yeah. Phone’s over by the window,” he gestured to the cordless handset on a small side-table.
Buffy glanced at the wall clock. Six PM. She hastily dialed Giles’ home number. It rang five times before going to voicemail. She hung up and dialed the library number. What could he possibly be doing there so late? It rang. And rang. And rang. Buffy was about to hang up in despair, when a tired, blessedly familiar voice answered.
“Sunnydale High Library,” Giles answered.
“Giles! It’s me. Listen-“
“Hello … Hello?” Giles continued.
Static crackled on the line. “Giles. It’s Buffy. Can you hear me.”
“Hello? Look, … is … crank … not amused,” Giles said testily.
Buffy was yelling now. “Dammit, Giles!”
The static rose in pitch to a screech so loud Buffy had to hold the phone away from her ear.
Then silence.
Buffy warily brought the earpiece closer. What she heard chilled her to the bone.
[I told you, shorts. I’ll fuck your friends over.]
