August 02 - Not Alone
Title: Not Alone
Author: koohii_cafe
Rating: FR7
Crossover: BtVS/Torchwood
Disclaimer: Since I am a poor chickadee with no wealth to speak of, I think it's safe to say that neither BtVS nor Torchwood are mine. ^^;
Written for: TtH August Fic A Day Challenge
Summary: She was shaking, she couldn't stop shaking, couldn't stop crying, but- there were arms around her, and a movement beside her, the sound of footsteps.
~*~*~*~*~
Panic. There was panic. She couldn't breathe, couldn't see, there was nothing but crushing, cloying darkness. The taste of dirt on her tongue, disgusting, and she struggled to cough, struggled to clear her airways, struggled to keep from choking, because its gritty texture was everywhere. She tried to fight, tried to claw it away, but her arms were pinned, crushed beneath the weight of it all, she couldn't move, trapped, enclosed, in a tiny space too small to fight. Trapped, by pine and earth, and her chest heaved, wetness on her cheeks that mingled with the grit of the dirt. She gasped, tried to sob, but the sound was lost to the soil that blanketed her, buried her, and she couldn't breathe!
She shook, and she was shaking, and god, she was buried, trapped in her coffin, dirt pouring in, refusing to give up its hold, refusing to let her free, and if she couldn't get free, she would die, again, she would be trapped here forever. There was a litany, soundless in her own ears, blocked by the thickness of the earth pressing down over her, over and over again, "no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," and she cried, and she couldn't breathe and-
"Buffy!"
Hands. There were hands on her, one on each shoulder, shaking her, a worried voice above her, and oh god, how was he here, how could she hear him, how could he touch her, she was buried, trapped, alone, and-
"Buffy, wake up!" A deeper voice, a lilt to the words, concern threaded heavily in that tone. There was a sob, and she realized it was her own, as the first pair of hands shifted, as there was another, pulling her up, and god, she could move. She was moving, being drawn upright, and there was warmth around her, arms around her, and-
"Shhhhh, it's alright, it's okay Buffy, we're here. You're safe, you're in the Hub, with us, it's alright."
She was shaking, she couldn't stop shaking, couldn't stop crying, but- there were arms around her, and a movement beside her, the sound of footsteps. Then- light, blinding in its brightness and-
Jack. Jack was holding her, and she wasn't buried, she wasn't trapped, she was in his arms, in his bed in his bunker, and Ianto was at the door, worried blue eyes trained on them as he padded away from the light and back towards them. Her breath came in short, panicked pants as he wasted no time in rejoining them, and there were lips pressing to her temple as he did, as a second pair of arms wound around her, and she gasped. The sound was broken, a sob, even as the feel of them pressed the nightmare back. A little, at least.
"Mae'n iawn, cariad." The words were soft, the tilt of them accented just so, in that way that Jack loved, in a way that soothed now. She didn't know what he'd said, but it wasn't the words that mattered, and she shook her head and curled deeper into their arms. Fighting for her own words.
"I-" Oh god, she'd woken them up. Jack, who rarely slept, Ianto who rarely slept peacefully, and she'd woken them both up, with a nightmare years in her past. A nightmare that was nothing compared to what they'd been through. And yet she was still shaking, even with the warmth of them wrapped around her. "I'm sorry, I- god, I didn't mean to- wake you up."
"No, no, shhh, it's okay, Buffy. I wasn't asleep, don't worry about it." Another kiss, to the top of her head that time, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Held between them, encircled by their arms, Ianto's deeper voice rumbling through his chest as he added;
"Doesn't matter anyway." His voice firm in that, his hand stroking down her back soothingly. "We all have nightmares, we've all done that. Only thing that matters is that we're not alone- you're not alone."
She nodded, silently, trying to calm her breathing. Inhaling slowly, reaching to wipe at the tears on her cheeks. She knew he was right. Knew she wasn't alone. Not anymore. She had been- for so long. Despite being surrounded by her friends, her family, she had been so alone for so long. But that was her past. That had been Buffy the slayer. She wasn't Buffy the slayer here, she was just- Buffy.
"He's right, you know," came Jack's soft voice, and something about it was enough to make her hiccup and laugh weakly, and answer;
"He usually is."
Above her, they both laughed, and then Jack's hands were pulling her own down.
"True- but I mean it. You're not alone." He kissed the back of her hands, both of them, and then gently wiped at her cheeks, at the tears still left there, and she gave him a watery smile.
"I know, I just-"
"No 'justs,'" Ianto interrupted, firm again, still, and Jack's gaze turned playful.
"I'd listen to him if I were you. He's a tyrant when he gets like this; doesn't take well to not being obeyed." He was grinning at her, a spark of something mischievous in his eyes, as he continued. "If you don't do as he says, he might have to punish you, and you should see his punishments. Brutal."
"Well you would know, wouldn't you Jack?" Ianto's voice, prim and upright and amused, and she couldn't help it, couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out at the wounded look Jack was giving the other man in return. Then, after winking at her, flashing that grin at her briefly, Jack was returning that mock wounded look to Ianto. Declaring his innocence as Ianto snorted his disbelief, and that was that. No questions, no asking what the nightmare had been about, because they all knew. The nightmares were familiar... and so was this. Waking up, taking or giving comfort. Distracting and lightening each other's moods. Because Ianto was right. She wasn't alone. They weren't alone. And that was all that mattered.
Author: koohii_cafe
Rating: FR7
Crossover: BtVS/Torchwood
Disclaimer: Since I am a poor chickadee with no wealth to speak of, I think it's safe to say that neither BtVS nor Torchwood are mine. ^^;
Written for: TtH August Fic A Day Challenge
Summary: She was shaking, she couldn't stop shaking, couldn't stop crying, but- there were arms around her, and a movement beside her, the sound of footsteps.
~*~*~*~*~
Panic. There was panic. She couldn't breathe, couldn't see, there was nothing but crushing, cloying darkness. The taste of dirt on her tongue, disgusting, and she struggled to cough, struggled to clear her airways, struggled to keep from choking, because its gritty texture was everywhere. She tried to fight, tried to claw it away, but her arms were pinned, crushed beneath the weight of it all, she couldn't move, trapped, enclosed, in a tiny space too small to fight. Trapped, by pine and earth, and her chest heaved, wetness on her cheeks that mingled with the grit of the dirt. She gasped, tried to sob, but the sound was lost to the soil that blanketed her, buried her, and she couldn't breathe!
She shook, and she was shaking, and god, she was buried, trapped in her coffin, dirt pouring in, refusing to give up its hold, refusing to let her free, and if she couldn't get free, she would die, again, she would be trapped here forever. There was a litany, soundless in her own ears, blocked by the thickness of the earth pressing down over her, over and over again, "no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," and she cried, and she couldn't breathe and-
"Buffy!"
Hands. There were hands on her, one on each shoulder, shaking her, a worried voice above her, and oh god, how was he here, how could she hear him, how could he touch her, she was buried, trapped, alone, and-
"Buffy, wake up!" A deeper voice, a lilt to the words, concern threaded heavily in that tone. There was a sob, and she realized it was her own, as the first pair of hands shifted, as there was another, pulling her up, and god, she could move. She was moving, being drawn upright, and there was warmth around her, arms around her, and-
"Shhhhh, it's alright, it's okay Buffy, we're here. You're safe, you're in the Hub, with us, it's alright."
She was shaking, she couldn't stop shaking, couldn't stop crying, but- there were arms around her, and a movement beside her, the sound of footsteps. Then- light, blinding in its brightness and-
Jack. Jack was holding her, and she wasn't buried, she wasn't trapped, she was in his arms, in his bed in his bunker, and Ianto was at the door, worried blue eyes trained on them as he padded away from the light and back towards them. Her breath came in short, panicked pants as he wasted no time in rejoining them, and there were lips pressing to her temple as he did, as a second pair of arms wound around her, and she gasped. The sound was broken, a sob, even as the feel of them pressed the nightmare back. A little, at least.
"Mae'n iawn, cariad." The words were soft, the tilt of them accented just so, in that way that Jack loved, in a way that soothed now. She didn't know what he'd said, but it wasn't the words that mattered, and she shook her head and curled deeper into their arms. Fighting for her own words.
"I-" Oh god, she'd woken them up. Jack, who rarely slept, Ianto who rarely slept peacefully, and she'd woken them both up, with a nightmare years in her past. A nightmare that was nothing compared to what they'd been through. And yet she was still shaking, even with the warmth of them wrapped around her. "I'm sorry, I- god, I didn't mean to- wake you up."
"No, no, shhh, it's okay, Buffy. I wasn't asleep, don't worry about it." Another kiss, to the top of her head that time, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Held between them, encircled by their arms, Ianto's deeper voice rumbling through his chest as he added;
"Doesn't matter anyway." His voice firm in that, his hand stroking down her back soothingly. "We all have nightmares, we've all done that. Only thing that matters is that we're not alone- you're not alone."
She nodded, silently, trying to calm her breathing. Inhaling slowly, reaching to wipe at the tears on her cheeks. She knew he was right. Knew she wasn't alone. Not anymore. She had been- for so long. Despite being surrounded by her friends, her family, she had been so alone for so long. But that was her past. That had been Buffy the slayer. She wasn't Buffy the slayer here, she was just- Buffy.
"He's right, you know," came Jack's soft voice, and something about it was enough to make her hiccup and laugh weakly, and answer;
"He usually is."
Above her, they both laughed, and then Jack's hands were pulling her own down.
"True- but I mean it. You're not alone." He kissed the back of her hands, both of them, and then gently wiped at her cheeks, at the tears still left there, and she gave him a watery smile.
"I know, I just-"
"No 'justs,'" Ianto interrupted, firm again, still, and Jack's gaze turned playful.
"I'd listen to him if I were you. He's a tyrant when he gets like this; doesn't take well to not being obeyed." He was grinning at her, a spark of something mischievous in his eyes, as he continued. "If you don't do as he says, he might have to punish you, and you should see his punishments. Brutal."
"Well you would know, wouldn't you Jack?" Ianto's voice, prim and upright and amused, and she couldn't help it, couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out at the wounded look Jack was giving the other man in return. Then, after winking at her, flashing that grin at her briefly, Jack was returning that mock wounded look to Ianto. Declaring his innocence as Ianto snorted his disbelief, and that was that. No questions, no asking what the nightmare had been about, because they all knew. The nightmares were familiar... and so was this. Waking up, taking or giving comfort. Distracting and lightening each other's moods. Because Ianto was right. She wasn't alone. They weren't alone. And that was all that mattered.