Anything for Family

AUTHOR: Methos (ianblyth2005@btinternet.com)

DISCLAIMER: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, The Doctor Who universe, The Doctor, Susan Fordman and all related mythos belong to a ton of people at the BBC stretching back over 50 years... definitely not me though.

Challenge Response to TTH challenge 2540: Though this bears some similarity to the 'Buffy's Real Parents' challenge, I thought it worth posting on its own. The idea is this: a Buffyverse female is not what she thinks she is. She is, in fact, a regenerated Susan Foreman - none other than the Granddaughter of the Doctor himself - having lost her memory and been living as a human for years.

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She ran, the long skirt of her robes flowing out from behind her as she ducked and weaved through the streets of the burning city. The air was thick with smoke and dust, the fumes of the dead burning on piles, their clothing and flesh slowly disintegrating into nothing.

Glass shattered underfoot as she skidded around another corner, not even daring to check if they were still following her, she knew they were. She could feel her heart beating in her chest so heart it threatened to burst from her ribcage as she ducked into another corner.

The city was deserted now, the war lost, her people gone, her friends gone, everyone she had ever known was gone. And now her home would soon be gone too.

She raced on, the fear of her followers chasing her on through the night, she ran like the devil himself was following her, her short black hair tussled and mussed after months of fighting. The silver wand in her hand was gripped so tightly it felt almost like a lifeline to everything she knew, everything she had lost.

They had taken the capitol; the mighty glass dome had shattered under their relentless power. Nothing in the universe could stop them now, an army, an armada of ships ready to destroy anyone leaving the planet. No one could survive this, not even her, but she wouldn’t give up, she wouldn’t, couldn’t surrender, not after all she had seen, not after all she had done.

She ducked around another corridor, quickly diving into an alcove when she saw the single sapphire eye of the demon in front of her. The silver of its body hid the true nature of the beast, the true destructive power that resided within such an innocuous looking shell. Now it was coming, it had seen her, it had sensed her. She could hear it’s almost soundless movement as it headed towards her.

Instinct took over as she rolled out of the alcove, on an angle that would take the demon’s single burning eye a second or more to follow, that second was all that she needed. The wand was up before the momentum of her roll had fully stopped and she tumbled to the side, not before she managed to activate the silver weapon that was gripped in her fingertips.

The demons death shriek almost deafened her, it echoed through the narrow corridors of the destroyed city long after the demons body had burnt in fire and rage. The others would have heard it, she cursed loudly as she picked herself up off the floor, forcing her body to ignore the small cuts that now crisscrossed her leg and arm where she had landed, her burnt orange robes sliced in several places down the left side.

The sky was the same colour now, only it had always been a burnt orange at night, a scarlet hue during the day, now it burned all the time, the burning pyre of a dead world, of a world that had refused to act and was now burning for its arrogance.

Alarms sounded in the distance spurring her on down the streets, more demons would come, far too many for her to fight, far too many for her to outrun. One on the ground she could take care of, but three, four, fifty, a hundred, there were hundreds of thousands in the city now, burning the great buildings, destroying the statues and turning their burning gaze to any technology that could threaten them. A soft hum in the air signalled their approach, there was no more time no, no more planning, this was it, the end.

She ran, ran faster than she had ever run before, through the streets and out into the fields of Rassilon that were overshadowed by the great mountains. The deep red grass crunched softly underfoot as she fled swiftly through the fields and out into the forest, the soft silver leaves whipping up under foot and catching on her dress as she ducked and weaved through the trees and out into another field.

The dark night was now lit up by the burning cobalt lights that burnt from within the demons themselves as their flew overhead, their breath reigning down death and destruction from on high as she continued to run, the explosions only forcing her to run faster, if she could only get there in time.

The demons wouldn’t be there, they had invaded her home, killed everyone she knew, everyone she had ever known, but they wouldn’t be there, they wouldn’t dare. The Untempered Schism was as holy to them as it was to her own people, even the demon lords themselves wouldn’t dare approach it for fear of Rassilon himself. It was always said that Rassilon watched over the Untempered Schism, his watchful eye waiting a time when he would be needed again, the last of his artefacts were still housed there in a carefully preserved container, she just hoped there would be what she needed there, or else all was lost.

As she ran through the fields she could feel the burning in the air that told her she was close, the air around the Untempered Schism always felt different, like it was changed, like it wasn’t quite like the rest of the air, like the air itself knew how holy this place was. The pedestal of Rassilon sat barely ten feet away from the Untempered Schism, the metal container on the top glittering in the night and reflecting the soft reds, oranges and blues of the Schism out onto the fields.

She chanced a glance back, knowing the demons were close, knowing she only had a few seconds to act, of course, to her a few seconds used to be all of eternity, now life felt so very brief. Ten of them, ten demons were behind her in the skies, their sapphire eyes lighting up the burnt orange view menacingly as they approached. The sight just spurred her on, the fear pumping the adrenaline through her body at twice the normal rate as her pulse raced beyond anything she had felt before. She was so close, so very close.

The demon screamed and the air was ablaze with the blue lightning again, it scorched the air as it tore through the area between her as the Pedestal of Rassilon, the soil beneath her feet gave way as she skidded to a halt, her hand whipping out and knocking the pedestal over, the contents of Rassilon’s container spilling into the ruby tinted grass.

The demons were close now; she could nearly feel the heat of their eyes burning into her back as she hunted through the artefacts of Rassilon, surely there would be one here, her grandfather had told her so many tales of Rassilon, of his triumphs, of his wisdom, of his caring. Surely he must have what she needed.

Another blast to her right made her fall closer to the Untempered Schism and there it was, the small locket, the engraving on the front clearly marked it as the item she had been searching for, snatching it from the grass she barely managed to conceal her feeling of glee as she finally wrapped the delicate silver chain around her neck, standing up she barely had time to face the demons when the scream of attack came.

“Exterminate!”

The air cracked for a second as their sapphire gaze turned to her as one, the burning pain lasted a fraction of a second as she fell into the Untempered Schism, then she was falling, her hand gripped around the pendant forcing it tightly against her chest as the tides of time took control of her.

=/^=

Tara gasped for air as her body lurched up in her bed, her right hand instinctively clutching at her chest where she could feel her heart beat thumping through her chest at a rate that she was sure threatened to wake Willow who was still sleeping next to her in the bed.

She bent over softly, allowing herself time to compose herself before laying a soft kiss on Willow’s forehead and brushing a few stray hairs away from her face before she slowly made her way out of the bedroom, gently removing her dressing gown from the chair by her desk before slipping out of the bedroom and leaving Willow to sleep peacefully.

The dormitories were almost silent this time of night, she could just make out the soft orange haze of dawn coming through the windows of the corridor, the soft chirping of the birds outside were the only sound she could hear as she made her way down the corridor into the bathrooms where she quickly walked over to the sinks and started splashing cold water on her face.

For a long time she just stared at her reflection, the water dripping off of her face and down her neck. The nightmares had been coming for nearly a month now, every night, they were always different though, but the same theme. She was someone else, something else. A dark haired young girl, a tall blonde, a tall redhead walking through strange cities that felt like home wearing elegant robes that she had never seen before but knew instinctively that they were hers.

The dreams were so vivid, so lifelike, the smells, the tastes, the touch. It all felt so real, more like memories than dreams. She had dreamt of another life, another family, the dreams always faded so fast and she closed her eyes as she desperately tried to hang on to the pieces that remained. She knew what she was looking for, forcing herself to try and remember the faces of her family in her dream, her mother and father who took her for walks through those glittering silver trees, her grandfather with the silver topped cane who told her exciting stories about far off places and ancient myths of worlds she had never heard of before.

In her dreams she could picture her family completely, but awake she could barely even grasp a hint of what they looked like, it was like a faded picture, like a tapestry that slowly came undone in the light of day.

She took another deep breath before splashing more water on her face and cupping her hands beneath the cold water and taking a sip. Her grandfather, he was the one that stayed the longest in her memories, a kind old man with a mischievous glint in his eye. He always wore old fashioned clothing, a rebel, she looked at herself in shock trying to think where that thought came from, she would never have described the man she knew as a rebel, but now it was there, attached to the image she had of him in her mind, it just felt right.

Pulling herself away from the mirror she took one last glance at herself before walking out of the bathroom and heading back to her dorm room, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was wrong, that the girl in the mirror that always looked back at her wasn’t her at all. She was the small brunette she always dreamt about first, the one with short hair who trusted her grandfather above all else.

She quietly slipped back into the dorm room and hung her dressing gown back on the chair where it belonged before slowly opening the desk draw and placing the small box inside on the desk, moving her spell book aside for the moment before sitting down. She opened the box gently like it was some sort of ritual for her, and maybe it was now, she had done this every night she had the nightmares, it was the only thing that comforted her, the only thing that made everything peaceful again.

Opening the box she took out the small locket that was inside, it was broken, the clasp wouldn’t open, it hadn’t opened for her when she'd found it shortly before she'd run away from home, and now, over twenty years later, it still wouldn’t open, she knew without even trying that it would be pointless so she just ran her thumb over the tiny clasp and ignored it.

The actual pendant was such a small thing, a small circular locket with traces of circles and hexagons and other shapes on the front, she ran her fingers over the design and marvelled at the complicated nature of the patterns, she would never get tired of looking at it, even though she knew that it would never open for her, the fact that it was hers was enough for her. The soft metal of the chain felt almost warm to her touch as she pulled her hair up and threaded the chain behind her neck before letting her hair fall back down and cover it, the small pendant still in her hands clutched to her chest and she looked out of the window at the soft morning light.

“What’s wrong baby?” Willow’s sleepy morning voice came across the room, shaking Tara out of her thoughts as she turned in the chair to face the bed and its occupant.

“Nothing sweetie,” She smiled before standing up, letting the small locket fall against her chest as she walked over to the bed and smiled down at Willow. “G... go back to sleep, I’m fine.”

“Hmmm...” Willow moaned softly as Tara sat down on the bed next to her and started stroking her hair. “Morning snuggles are good.” She said softly as she nuzzled her head back into Tara’s lap.

“A...are they?” Tara smiled down at the petite redhead that was now her lover, she couldn’t help smile whenever Willow looked at her, she had finally found her home in the arms of the redheaded witch.

“Definitely,” Willow said sultrily as she snaked her arm around Tara’s waist and pulled her close. “And naked snuggles are even better.”

Tara didn’t have to say anything in response this time, she just leaned down and slowly captured Willow’s lips with her own, her arms reaching down and caressing around Willow’s own naked form as the soft kiss continued.

“What time is it baby?” Willow asked when she finally broke the kiss.

“Early,” Tara smiled down before sliding back into bed and sliding her arm under Willow’s neck, letting Willow rest her head on her chest before she slowly started stroking her hair, “About five.” She whispered softly before kissing Willow on the forehead and teasing her hand down her back.

“Hmmm...” Willow moaned softly in response to Tara’s ministrations. “Plenty of time then,” Willow smiled saucily before she started softly kissing the exposed skin on Tara’s chest and working her way slowly up her neck, pausing briefly at the locket before placing a soft kiss on it and continuing trailing her kisses along the neck and jaw line of her lover.