Kidnapped! PG: Buffy/SGA/Firefly/Harry Potter

[donahermurphy.livejournal.com]

Title: Kidnapped!
Author: Donahermurphy
Rating: PG
Fandoms: Buffy/SGA/Firely/Harry Potter
Summary: Four fandoms meet in a bar... (Or, actaully, four fandoms meet while kidnapped by aliens/demons, and five young characters just want to get home. That may prove a little difficult...)

Comments much appreciated.


 

“Oh, that’s just great,” the skinny kid muttered, after finishing a rant about the tragedy of his impending demise. “I always wanted to be stuck in a cell with a crazy girl. She’s probably inches away from attacking us all.”

It was more a zoo than a cell, John thought, but he appreciated the sentiment. Bad enough that he’d been kidnapped. Worse that he’d been kidnapped by extraterrestrials (which, apparently, were real. And traversing the dimensions looking for specimens that sparked their interest.) But the fact that, thus far, all the other kidnap victims were weird beyond belief wasn’t doing much for his self-esteem.

He hadn’t complained when the aliens had dragged him to the holding area with the (apparently new) captives, but now he wondered if he should’ve.

“You think I’m like the moon,” the crazy girl said to her female companion, an older teenager with bushy hair. “But really I’m a river.”

Bushy frowned, her lips tightening as she looked at the other girl. John stiffened slightly. Bushy hadn’t spoken much after being thrown into the holding area, but the aliens had bothered to drug her before doing so, and that worried John. It meant they thought she was dangerous somehow. The last kid who’d been drugged…

Well, John wasn’t going to think about that right now.

“Are you a Legili- wait, sorry, you won’t know what that means, probably. What I mean to say is-“

Bushy was cut off by the other girl. “What do they do with Readers on your world? Do they take their brains and twist and cut and spill out all the secret things?” Her voice was even, but her mouth curled unhappily.

There was silence for a little bit.

“Oh my God, you were tortured, weren’t you. That’s what the aliens wanted us for. They’re going to examine our brains to see what makes us tick, and of course-“ Skinny babbled on, his little sister (Jeannie, according to rant #7) started sniffling, and John wished everyone would just shut up.

Judging by the split-second of silence, he’d just said that last bit out loud. Rather than waste time pretending to feel bad about being rude, John took advantage of the attention suddenly focused on him by the other captives.

“They do study us,” he said, clearing his throat. He still didn't really feel like talking, but they did need to know. “They don’t cut us up and they don’t hurt us but they put us into little boxes with fake teachers and fake classrooms that appear on holograms and then they try to see what we’ll do. Sometimes they bring weird pieces of metal and ask to hold it, but that’s only ever happened to me. They drug us through the ventilation, at night, to make us sleep. Then they take blood and do their scans. You can’t tell in the morning. They probably know every word I’m saying right now, if they care enough to watch. But they pretty much think of us as- as infants, or collectors items, so I doubt they bother.”

“How long have you been here, then?” Skinny asked, sounding rattled. “Do you live here? Is this your weird parody of a life? Are you this quiet because you’ve never had human interaction before? Why-“

“Everyone’s quiet compared to you,” John replied. (Jeannie snorted, then coughed to cover it. For a seven-year-old, she was pretty sharp.) “And I’ve only been here a couple of weeks.”

“There’s a reason solitary confinement is such a harsh punishment, though,” Bushy spoke, sounding sympathetic. “That can’t have been easy, being alone for so long.”

“He wasn’t alone,” said the other girl, looking at him with a strange gaze. “There was another, but she left. She was strong and he was not, and so she left him behind, because she could not escape if he followed. Would not let him follow the path she chose to freedom, because that would go against her calling. But a Slayer has to leave or die, or the broken line will let the world drown in the blood that is taken.”

John shivered. “That’s- um, what she called herself. A Slayer. She called them demons. Said they were from a different dimension, one that transcended space and time. Something like that, anyway. I never really figured out why they wanted us, but apparently their species live for centuries and think twenty-one is the age of reason. I don’t know what happens when we get that old, but I doubt it will be good.”

Bushy nodded like that explained something. “Anybody ever escape?” Apparently she didn’t really trust the crazy-girl’s semi-explanation. He could see why.

John blinked. “We tried. A few times. Got close, too. Though, really, it was more like she tried and I tagged along, but we almost did escape. More by luck than anything else. But she was- imaptient, I suppose, and after the third week, uh-“ He glanced over at Skinny’s sister. Probably too young too hear the specifics. “Well, it was quick.”

Skinny looked shocked. “I though you said they didn’t hurt us.”

John shook his head, looking down at his bare feet. “They don’t. It was- it was her choice. She didn’t- um- have any help. Even from the aliens.”

John kept looking at his shoes, blinking his eyes into focus. “Oh,” whispered Skinny.

“When one dies, another is called.” A dreamy voice cut in. “She needed to phone home, or leave her people undefended. Leaving is possible, but going is harder. And she knew she couldn’t go, so duty made her leave.” The strange girl moved from her spot on the floor to pat him on the shoulder vaguely.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few more minutes after. “Well,” Bushy said, clearing her throat, “first things first. Introductions. Then an escape plan.”

Comments

[ancientcitadel.livejournal.com]

Intriguing. :)