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English
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Part 15 of MiSS
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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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2,065
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1/1
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12
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MiSS - THE LONG WAY HOME (S8) - Enchained Bedlam

Summary:

Summary: How was it that Ethan got into Buffy's mind? He sure seemed like an expert jumping through her dreamspace.
Note: Part of Missing Scenes (MiSS) but as usual a standalone.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Enchained Bedlam
by lusciousspike

 

For years they pumped drugs into his body and for years he could not get his brain to focus. His mind was in such disarray that time had passed him, standing still; unable to tell what was real – powerless to care. He was delusional most of the time, lost in his own thoughts and delirious by the medication he was fed to keep him docile.

It was in his dreams that he was most free. In his slumbering thoughts, he hid from the chaos of his senses, broke free from the tightening of the chemical binds and metal walls. In the unrestricted fun of memories, he was set free from that which haunted the little sanity he had.

It was scary to wake up alone - always alone - in a four-walled cell on a hard, cold cot. So little light he had to see by – and what he vaguely saw and heard had him quickly slipping away once more into near forgotten oblivion. Faded cries he could never pinpoint outside his cloudy psyche lulled him to sleep for what seemed like a timeless existence, and soon enough they were to him but a state of being. His mind and thoughts were faded and not his own for so long that time and reason ceased to matter.

It took him a while to know what it was when it happened, to come to grips with this new sensation. A shock to his senses, near awareness, his mind full of pinpricks as it awoke.

He began to remember, what happened, how he got here, who he was, what he needed to do. Fear, anger, and surrender were instant sensations that attacked him so fervently it was hard to think.

But, he learned quickly – for he had to - when his body was adapting to the drugs to focus his revived psyche on one thing…

Escape.

With that single thought, he relied on his baser instincts and delicately began pushing at the confines of his mental reach - tapping into the weak energy that slipped from other captives. He trained his brain to distinguish between sources as he slowly powered up, heedless of his watchful guards. It was a game of mental training as well as a means for survival when he closed his eyes and floated in slivery consciousness to sap some delicate power. It was not long before his memory started to resurface and with it his magicks.

To the left, Iilik demon: vicious, blind, relies mostly on thin veils of energy. Two cells to the right, Gawrik: smart, parasite, very little power. Next cell. A newbie. Uldariah: a peaceful creature that utilized its powers to nourish flora. This one was a female. Pregnant. Without green life both mother and child will soon die and release toxic fumes.

His eyes opened and he leaned his head back against the cold wall. It would be smart to keep to his parameters pending the yanks-in-uniform stumbling on that bit of information. Face first and way too late, he ardently hoped. It would be a treat to hear the cries of man behind these walls for man was the one who elected them from so called “beasts” and “sub-terrestrials” under the call of science and security. It incensed him to witness such blatant ignorance to the workings of his chosen world. Thus, screams torn from the throats of his asinine captives as their skin melted and their lungs burned would be very sweet to his ears indeed.   

His fingers involuntarily dug into the back of his head.

What the…?

A sound snapped him out of his reverie. He quickly hid his wicked smile. Relaxing his body and mind, he faked a dumb expression and a visionless gaze.

His door cracked open and without warning, a tray of food was dropped on the floor, spilling the little it had onto the sides.

“Food, Rayne.” When he gave no response, the guard sneered. “Dumb-ass devil loving Brit," he spit out before slamming the door shut.

The vacant gaze slipped over the provided nourishment, but he did not move. They drugged his food, put the effin ‘remedy’ with the sour tasting gunk, but he knew the bread and water were safe. Even then, he only took a little since he was channeling the energy he had been storing towards sustaining his body.     

- and observe…

The soldiers were sanctimonious bastards, but the blokes in white were open-minded to magic and had safety measures taken against magic users such as himself in the metallic construction of his ‘room’. While it did indeed dampen his abilities, it would not be able to hold him once he regained full strength.

He had to bid his time. Patience was not his finest virtue.

Have nothing else but…

As time passed and his consciousness strengthened, he realized that he might go mad with boredom and that what had once seemed like a haven, the solace in his past dreams would damn him. In his dreams there was a past out of his reach and a freedom that was once taken for granted. He needed to do something to occupy his downturn thoughts from fully depressing him as certain memories were resurfacing.     The utensil they kindly provided him might never dig him an escape tunnel, but all it needed was a twist and his jugular wouldn’t stand a chance.

He could be done with this.

Be done with all of the lunacy.

Take off my straight jacket and be done… His thoughts frenzied.

But, wait. Why didn’t he notice it before? Why was he wearing ‘civilian clothes’?

Some memory out reach… What did they have him do?

“Gods, my head…” His hand rubbed his forehead. Before and after were clear enough, but what was in between? He winced as pain flashed behind his eyes.

Quick and simple - just... His was hand outstretched in front of him.

Ethan tore his gaze away from the spoon and leaned his head against the cool wall. He burrowed his fist into rough bedding, clutching onto torn material. Breathe, Rayne, it would not do well to your infamy if you were brought down by such oafs, he scolded himself, forcing his thoughts to focus on the present and away from the nagging ache in his cranium.

Taking bits of energy enough for escape would take a long time, and before then, he would have driven himself insane with the intense monotony of each day - so much unlike his rampant past.

How many days have passed?   

He had to distract and amuse himself until the time came.

Life before was quite entertaining…

So, now, when he took his mental stroll, instead of simply 'borrowing' energy, he pushed harder at the shell and he hit into the dreams and memories of those imprisoned. He snuck into their dreamspace of what was and what they wished to be, trickling into the precincts of their minds.

Knowing it was more dangerous, he was extra cautious when he moved up from the dull minded prisoners to their captures - the scientists with their retrained thoughts and hectic mentality, the soldiers with their one track mind and unbridled hostility. Soon, boredom was the last thought on his mind as bits and pieces of information cam together and instead of the sought after voyeuristic diversion, a bigger, and much frightening picture was drawn. What these fools were planning with those they allied themselves with, mucking up rules they could never come to grasp, it turned his blood cold with horror and fury, and made him more vigilant than ever.

He kept his wits about him, and continued his quiet pursuits. No sense it revealing his cards yet.

However, the quiet was shattered the very second she was brought in.

Bloody Hell, the lass’s pumping!

The strong angry power slammed into his senses, causing his breath to quicken and his heart to race. His body vibrated, wanting so badly to reach out and sink its very being into that enticing, unrestricted dark energy. One taste, his thoughts demanded, just a taste and we shall be set free!

It would have been so easy to do so. So very easy would it be to surrender to this temptation.

Thinking, at first, she was a fellow magic user captured by the wicked government, he kept his distance waiting for the opportune moment to make his move. That was until he realized that she was anything but as her force was left mostly unrestrained hours later. Curious, he found one of the White Coats. Such a messy mind, this one had, and amusingly with magic on the brain. Ethan attached himself to his waking psyche when he passed his unit without worry of detection - and observed. He could not see outside himself, but he could listen. Just like a bat on the wall.

Ripper would be at envy of my Watcher prowess, he thought, amused.

The good doctor was moving near the new inmate with her static energy. She was talking with someone – face to face.

Girl must have been really nice to get an outside stroll…

“Tomorrow you will have your leave, but you better not deviate from what you have been contracted…”

“Shhh.” She stopped him, her voice tilted upward. “There's a magic user near. Human.”

“You must mean Rayne,” he said, dismissively. “He’s a useless veg now.” He exuded too much confidence and something else that Ethan could not pinpoint but which innerved him nonetheless.

The witch cackled. “Never underestimate magic, General.”

She knew.

Ethan’s eyes snapped open and pulled his body tighter on his hard cot. His gaze focused on the single door, waiting for one of the armed men to enter and put him out of this desolation. He waited for what seemed like hours but nothing happened. He sighed and relaxed, lying his head down. She must have not told the unruly General or he’d surely be dead.

He knew that he must be even more cautious with this one around. She was not helpless. Mad in every sense of the word, yes, he could tell that even from a distance. She reeked of death and corrupt power. But, power was power. He knew that right now, she was the way out.

Despite her power, she was unrestricted; a clear indication that her attention was focused elsewhere - Ethan would bet that her desires differed from what these fools sought of her.

They weren’t using her, the bint was using them. Splendid, why didn’t I think of that?

Ethan bid his time and waited for the opportune moment. It was near. He knew she knew he was watchful, but she ignored him. Never before had Ethan been thankful that his existence was dismissed.

Then it came, she was released to seemingly accomplish their goals. Instead of ridiculing their decision, he silently rejoiced. Knowing fully that this might be his one and only chance, he quickly hitched a ride, clinging his psyche onto the wild energy tendrils and casting more magic than before to strengthen and conceal his presentence.

Tagging along at the edge of her being, he knew chances were that his reserves would be depleted by taking this long journey, leaving him virtually helpless. Nevertheless, it was worth the risk, he needed to know what was happening and how he could benefit from it.

How the mighty have fallen… latching onto this calf…

Being so close to her, though, he could sense it. Remnants of the Hellmouth. He wondered if this impression meant that she was near ‘crater ground-zero’ as the Sammies referred to it. He wondered what it really looked like, and if the Hellmouth was truly closed.

Everything stopped. The Game’s afoot then, pet, Ethan thought when the slow, steady pulse of energy suddenly overflew his perception.  

His hostess was attacking someone’s dreamstate – he recognized it instantly. And for a second, he wondered what to do now, but a rush of powerful magic decided for him as he was thrown forward.

She saw me!

He did not wait to witness her response.

He jumped.

Standing up, he looked around for a few seconds, taking in his bearings, and with a mirthless chuckle, he shook his head. “Ain't it peachy? The little Slayer thinks herself sleeping-beauty. Colorful.” He clicked his tongue as he passed by an intruding stream of memory. “Well, there. This might just work.”

 

THE END

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author Mera.
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