Buffy
"How's she doing?" I asked.
He didn't look away for a second, "No change," his voice sounded was hoarse. That, and his wild eyes and disheveled hair made it seem he that he hadn't slept for a while. He probably hadn't.
"I didn't save her life so you could waste yours away," a familiar, and very unwelcome, voice said behind me.
David leaned against the doorway, looking every bit of the asshole he truly was. Still, there was something familiar about him. He stood about five inches taller than me, so he wasn't especially tall, but he was stocky and broad shouldered. He had the longest hair I had seen since I got here, which admittedly wasn't that long, but it gave him a shaggier appearance than most of the Roman Demigods. At least this time his brown hair was clean. When he found us, it had been muddy, unwashed for what looked like a week. His bright green eyes and thin mouth were screwed into their usual scowl, like he found us all to be annoyances that he just had to put up with. Even though he looked unarmed, I knew that he had at least two weapons on him under his red flannel shirt and jeans stained so bad no amount of washing would ever get those stains out. His purple Camp Jupiter shirt was only barely visible underneath.
"Am I going to have to be forceful again?" Percy threatened.
"At this rate I doubt you could," He said, "Your powers are tied to your state of wellness."
"And?"
"You look like crap," he said, voice dripping with scorn, "Lady Reyna wants to see you, and she wants to see you yesterday."
"If she wants to see me, she can come- "
He never got the words out because David ripped the chair right out from under him. Percy tried to react, but days of little sleep, little food, and almost zero activity made him painfully slow, too slow to do anything as David kicked him in the chest. He landed on his back and tried to roll, but David slammed his foot into his chest again, and stood there.
"When Lady Reyna wants to see you," he said, his voice genuinely dangerous for once, "You go to her."
I grabbed David from behind by the shoulders and flung him into a wall. He slammed into it with such force that the brick cracked, and I said, "I'm sure she will make an exception for my friend."
"Ahem."
Great. I turned to see Reyna, the Dictator of Rome, standing in the doorway. Her premature greying hair, silky light blue blouse, charcoal pants, and patent leather pumps made her look smart, like a Fortune 500 CEO ready to conduct a hostile takeover. Considering she has an entire army of warlike demigods at her command, it's not just a figure of speech.
"When I allowed you sanctuary here, I believe not attacking one of my legionnaire's was an obvious condition," she pointed out.
"But- "
"Seeing as how it's David, however," she continued, ignoring me, "I am sure he did something to deserve it."
David glared at her, but shrugged, and was the closest I had ever seen him get to sheepish, "Guilty, my Lady," the only time I had ever seen him display anything close to respect was to Reyna.
"Percy, I do need to see you," she said, "And you too, Buffy. I was hoping that you could tear yourself away from Annabeth for a second."
"I won't- "
"She's not going anywhere," Reyna said, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. I looked away in embarrassment, "If she were awake, would she want you wasting away like this?"
I heard Percy sigh defeated, "Fine. But not for long, though."
"Of course.
Unlike my last, disastrous war council, this one was set in the Principia, in some sort of throne room. A rather impressive oak table, surrounded by rather impressive chairs dominated the space. At the head, on a rather impressive throne, sat Reyna. David, who sort of acted like her bodyguard when not out in the field, stood behind her, arms crossed, looking half annoyed, half serious. To her right, was Frank, recovering quickly from his gut wound. On her left was the pale blonde guy, Octavian, who had been part of the party that rescued us. Those two were apparently the most senior officers of the Legion. A very old guy named Willy Goldberg, the representative of the city of New Rome, sat next to Octavian. I didn't pay much attention when it was explained to me, but apparently the practice of having a complete Senate fell into disuse because there wasn't enough left for a full Senate to be needed. God's curse to a girl's self-esteem, Piper, sat across from him.
Piper was, and there was no way to put it delicately, was Goddamn (Gods? In this universe?) beautiful. Her eyes looked like a kaleidoscope, almost like they couldn't decide what color to be, so they chose all of them. Even in a simple heavy duty shirt and cargo pants, she looked like she was about to walk down a runway of faces to the battle field. The fact that she had scars running through her right eye and the left side of her mouth did in no way detract from the fact that she looked fucking stunning.
I hate her on principle.
Percy and me sat at the end.
"Camp Half-Blood is about to be overrun," Reyna said, reclining in her chair, her dark eyes flashing, "The army surrounding it is even larger than the one that besieged us."
"Why hasn't the Legion marched to relieve them?" Percy asked.
"Because there are pockets of monsters all over the country," Octavian said, "They organized themselves under the banner of a particular monster by the name of Lamia. She apparently inspired the myth of vampires."
"Vampires inspired the myth of vampires," I pointed out.
"I thought that was empousai?" Percy said. Everyone ignored me.
"Similar creature," Frank said, "She was an ancient Queen of Libya, until… well, let's just say that it was unpleasant, and leave it at that. But she eventually turned to killing and eating children.
"Sounds like she's fun at parties," I said, but everyone looked at me, "She joked."
"You're not funny, Alexis Texas," David said.
Now everyone looked at him in confusion, except Piper, who looked disgusted. He explained, "'Buffy' is a porn star name."
"I'm goanna break your arms," I casually threatened.
"So who's 'Alexis Texas'?" Frank asked.
"Frank, I'll explain later," Piper assured.
"Of course, the daughter of Aphrodite would know who she is," David mocked in his same monotone.
"David," Reyna glared, "If you don't have something to contribute besides your sterling personality, stay quiet."
Now he looked more annoyed than serious, but said respectfully, "As you wish, my Lady."
She gestured at Octavian to continue, "The Legion is stretched thin all over the country. It would take at least three days to get the word out, a week and a half to get the numbers to make a difference. And even then, casualties will be… high."
"Now you see why we need you, Percy," Frank said, "You were always a linchpin. I guess you could say that you are our last prayer to both win and survive this."
"Well, what can I do?" Percy asked.
"That's what we are here to figure out," Reyna said.
"Kill Lamia," David said simply. When everyone stared at him, he said, "She said if I had something useful."
"And how is that useful?" Piper asked.
"If monsters are anything like vampires," I said, hating myself for agreeing with the asshole, "Then they group around a strong personality. If you take out their leader, then they destroy themselves fighting for a new one."
"So the plan is to kill a monster surrounded by her army," Octavian said, "On the other end of a country infested with them, on the off chance that they don't have a successor waiting in the wings?"
When no one spoke up, he sighed, "Well, it's no crazier than any other plan we've come up with."
Piper chuckled, "I highly doubt that it's going to be harder than crossing the Med in a giant flying ship."
"Or going to Alaska to free death," Frank smiled.
"Or being captured by pirates in the Bermuda Triangle," Reyna said.
"What kind of camp are you running here?" I asked.
"I can't go," Percy said.
You could hear a pin drop in here.
"Annabeth hasn't woken up," he said, "I fell into Tartarus rather than let her go. I'm going to be here when she wakes."
"Percy-" Piper began.
"Don't," he said, "What if it was Jason?"
She was about to continue before David interrupted her by laughing. The creepy laugh. The one that said that he was a squeak away from killing everyone in the room in a murderous rampage. He bit his knuckle to get himself under control before saying, "So the guy we waited for, our almost literal fucking Messiah, is refusing to help because his squeeze is too busy taking a fucking nap?!" he continued to laugh.
"Do you want to take this outside?" Percy threatened.
"Oh, I'll go outside," he chuckled, "You won't unless you want to fucking die," he said as he walked to the door.
Percy moved to follow him but Reyna said, "Percy," her voice almost dared him to argue. I guess this is why she was elected Dictator, "Leave him. We have better things to do than to see two of own kill each other."
"I could take him," Percy said.
"In your state? Maybe," Reyna said, "But you've been neglecting yourself too long, Percy. And David fights dirty. You probably will win, but you definitely will get yourself hurt."
"And, like him or not," Frank said, "We need David, just like we need every Roman we can get our hands on."
"And he has a point," Reyna said, "We need you for this, Percy. Even if you just were another sword arm."
Percy looked ashamed, but said, "I'm not budging. I'm staying with Annabeth."
"If it helps," I said, "I'll fight with you."
Reyna sighed, "It does a little," she turned to Octavian, "Alert the Legion. Everyone is to be at the rendezvous point we used when the Legion last assembled there in two weeks' time. At that time, we break the siege lines and relieve Camp Half-Blood."
David
Whack!
Leave our house, Olympian scum.
Whack!
Don't ever come back.
Whack!
Leave!
Whack!
Damn. Out of ammo.
I took a deep breath and wound the sling shot around my fingers. The lead balls I used as ammo were probably too deformed to be used again, so I didn't even bother to gather them up from the post I had been slinging them at (and no, I don't use one of the puny wrist rockets you get at the store. Mine was like the one the original David used to kill Goliath).
"You were in a particularly aggravating mood today," a sweet voice said behind me.
"I'm in no mood for you to shrink my head today, McLean," I said, walking toward my barracks.
"You know I've actually met Ceres," she said, "One of the nicest and politest goddesses ever."
"That's why I take after my father," I said.
"Oh, that's right," she said in a mocking tone, "You don't particularly care about your mother."
"She abandoned me," I said, "So I abandoned her."
"I wonder if you will ever realize just how full of shit you are," she said.
"Says the living personification of love who stayed here for months while her husband is surrounded by an army," I said, "So how full of shit are you?"
"The only shit in my life is you and that in my son's diaper," she countered, "When you are ready to talk about what's really bothering you, come talk."
"I'll only do it when that son of yours stops stinking up the house!" I called back to her, before stepping into my barracks room. Technically I was supposed to share it with three other people, but there weren't enough people in the Third left, so the survivors got their own room.
We'd rather have our brothers and sisters back.
I had barely put up my two collapsible scythes than I heard the door open, "Come back for round two?"
"Just a follow-up," a voice that was so not McLean's said.
I turned and inclined my head, "My Lady."
"Why do you call me that?" she said, sitting down on my one chair, a cushiony thing that was beginning to fray.
"I figured if we are living in the old days," I said.
"Yet you don't show the same respect to Frank or Octavian," she said.
"Octavian took me in because you ordered it," I pointed out, "And the Push was Zhang's idea."
"Frank was commended for breaking the Siege of New Rome," she pointed out.
"Yeah," I nodded, "He got a medal. My friends got buried."
"He lost friends too," she said.
"I don't really care about his friends," I said, "I care about mine."
"It still doesn't explain why you only show respect to me," she said, looking me in the eye.
I met her gaze without flinching, though it still gave me the creeps. Stupid war goddess powers, "You took me in when I didn't have a home."
"You were pretty old for someone who had survived out on his own until he found Lupa," she said.
"I wasn't on my own," I said, "I just said I didn't have a home."
"So is that it?" she said, "You were kicked out, so you feel the need to push away anyone close to you?"
"Actually, I'm just an asshole by nature," I said.
She just sighed in defeat, looking way too old for my liking, "You are one of my best legionnaires, and if you improved your attitude, you would be an officer already. As it is, I can't spare you. But we will win this war. And when we do, I want to keep you."
"What are you saying?" I asked, a feeling of dread settling in.
"If you don't clean up your attitude, then I won't stand in the Senate's way when they vote to expel you."
Xander, at Giles House.
Twang!
Jen cocked an eyebrow, "Well, that's singularly useless."
"If you would please stop touching the deadly weaponry," Giles asked before turning back to his book.
"This crossbow is the singular shittiest one I have ever seen," she said, placing it down on the Itable, "its heavy, lacks a sight, and I would guess that it's inaccurate as hell because of the previously mentioned two."
"Buffy seems to be able to use it well enough," Jesse pointed out.
"Buffy is superhuman," Cordy pointed out.
"Exactly," Jen said, "I get it, we need wood bolts to kill vamps, but that doesn't mean we have to stay completely in the Dark Ages."
"What do you suggest?" I asked.
"We go modern," she said, "Composite crossbow, carbon fiber construction, glowing sights for night shooting. Light weight, a million times more accurate, and usable by us mere mortals."
"And you know about these how?" Cordy asked.
"My Daddy and I like to go hunting," she said.
"I never want to meet your father," I said.
"Yeah, I can see how that conversation would," she smiled and got a far off look in her face, "'Hey, Mr Taggard, I'm the guy who's been screwing your daughter. So I heard you were a Marine at one time, that's pretty cool'."
Giles spit took his tea and Jesse's jaw dropped to the floor, while Cordy's eyes flashed dangerously. Meanwhile, my brain was doing a great impression of a record that was skipping a track, "Huh?"
She laughed, "Chill guys, I'm joking. He hasn't even asked me out yet. He's gonna, though."
"I am?"
"Yeah," she looked even more amused, "You were going to take me out for ice cream tomorrow."
"I was?"
"You are," she corrected.
"When?"
"Now."
"Why?"
"Because it slightly increases your chances of seeing tits."
"Do you wanna go out for ice cream tomorrow?"
"I would love to," she said.
"Americans," Giles said.
"Just lie back and think of England," Jesse advised absently, still trying to process what the hell just happened. To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure what happened myself, but hey. Tits.
Giles glared at Jesse, but said, "You have a point, Jennifer. These weapons where designed for Slayers to use."
"Maybe we can go farther," Cordy said, "Why not guns?"
"Guns have max distances of hundreds of feet at least," Jen pointed out, "Even shotguns. And suppressed weapons are still loud as hell. And the consequences of minors in possession of firearms is too much of a risk for me, personally, to take. A crossbow can be used for varmint hunting, and isn't illegal for a minor to carry."
"What's a varmint?" I asked.
"Coyote," she clarified, "As far as I'm aware, they're classified as pests, so it's a year-long season. Plus, they are completely nocturnal."
"Plausible excuse," Jesse said.
"And she's right," Cordy said, looking very annoyed with herself, "We aren't goanna get anywhere if we fight like Buffy and Percy did. We have to be smart about this."
"I can whip up explosives," Jesse volunteered, "Giles is good on the magic and research front. Jen's got her whole hunting/outdoorsy thing. And Xander's an evil genius, apparently."
"Hey!" I protested, "How dare you appoint me as the evil genius of the group when I haven't even had time to work on my evil laugh."
"If you lot are done," Giles said, "Could you please help me go through Annabeth and Percy's things? You know, the very reason I asked you here in the first place, rather than continue to destroy my apartment with deadly weapons?
Cordelia
Annabeth was filthy. Insanity was no excuse for leaving your feminine hygiene products just lying about.
I wrinkle my nose at the stench of rotting period blood and shoved it into the black bag. Typical boys wouldn't go anywhere near that, so it fell to me and Jen.
"I've cleaned pig sties cleaner than this," Ms Country complained.
"Annabeth was never all there, but this is getting ridiculous," I said.
"So," she said, "How long have you been in love with Xander?"
"How-What-How," I whirled around and stared at her, mouth agape. She just arched an eyebrow at me, which pissed me off because that what I do, and stared right back, not breaking eye contact.
"What makes you- okay, I'm not gonna lie," I admitted, "Xander is cute, and I've known him since damn near forever. And he's not a total dork."
"No, he is a total dork," Jen said, "So why haven't you made a move?"
"Because I've known him for damn near forever and he's a total dork," I pointed out.
"Never understood the reason of 'knowing him damn near forever'," Jen said, "But I've never stayed any place long enough for that."
"I thought you grew up on ranch?"
"Before my mom got married, I moved around a lot," she shrugged, "But that's not the point, I think it's a good thing you aren't dating Xander."
"Oh? And why is that, Ms Country?"
"You say it like an insult, I take it as a compliment," she drawled, deliberately using an exaggerated accent to piss me off, "But seriously. When was the last time you said something nice to him?"
I thought about that for a moment, "I think I said his shirt was as eye-bleedingly ugly as the ones he usually wears."
"That's it? That's you being nice?"
"Well, I'm not a nice person," I said.
"And Xander is," she said, "If two people can't get along, they shouldn't be dating."
"Oh? And where did you lean that?" I asked.
"iCarly,"she said, "Sitcom on Nickelodeon, give it ten years. Anyway, the point remains, I think that if you dated Xander, it would only end with both of you unhappy.
"Oh really?" I said, standing to my full height, towering over by a full head, fixing her with my forceful, 100% Queen C glare that sent nerds running for the hills, not giving a shit that she once almost beheaded a very dangerous vampire with a knife she most assuredly had on her now, "Let me inform you of this, back country Cletus, Xander would be lucky if he dated me. But it seems that he's settling far below his station instead of being… ambitious."
She had the nerve to not only look bored, but to actually arch that damn eyebrow at me again. For a second neither of us said a thing as we stared each other down. I head little pops that were probably her popping knuckles, maybe to take a swing, maybe just to scare me. Well, either way it worked. But I would damned if I was backing down.
We were interrupted by Giles opening the door, "Cordelia, Jennifer, are you-" he was interrupted by the rather large and intimidating knife that embedded into the door frame less than a foot from his face.
"We are in the middle of something, Mr Giles" I said, my eyes not leaving hers.
"If you would please come back at a later time, Mr Giles," Jen said.
I heard him gulp, and hastily say, "Splendid. Nice to see you two getting along."
I arched an eyebrow at her, "The knife was a bit much, wasn't it?"
"It might have been."
"Alright," I said, "Take Xander for ice cream. Take his kisses and affections, because when you screw up, and you will screw up, I will be there and snap him up like he's about to come into style."
"I thought the phrase was 'going out of style'."
"I'm a trend-setter," I said, "Are we done here?"
"We should probably stuff the beadspread into the laundry," she said, "It looks filthy."
"Fine," she said, yanking off the top cover, revealing a thin, shiny metal square with a white triangle printed on it. She nonchalantly put it on the dresser.
"What's that?" I asked.
She looked at it, "Macbook, with a custom design," she said with a shrug, "Over-priced piece of crap, according to my nerd friends back home."
"Never heard of it," I said as I picked it up. It looked a little like the laptop my father had on his desk, but much thinner and lighter.
"Really?" she asked, "They're really popular… in about twenty years. Forgot I'm from some alternate future."
"Daedalus' laptop," I said, remembering what Annabeth told me, "The most advanced computer ever made."
"Daedalus, as in wings of feathers and wax, ancient Greece… and I have met an ancient Greek goddess. Okay, we should probably show that to Giles."
"We should," I agreed.
All of us were crowded around Ms Calendar, who was squeezing with delight without even opening it, "It's so light," she said, "And thin! Does that effect processing power? Or battery life? Ooh! Do you think the size means that there are larger ones with more… everything?!"
"She gets this excited for a bloody machine and yet falls asleep at the opera," Giles said.
"Shut up, Fuddy-Duddy," Ms Calendar said, "Okay, okay," she took a deep breath and shook her hands, "Let's be calm about this, everyone."
"You're the one freaking out," Jesse said.
"Someday I hope to as happy as you are right now," Jen said.
"True happiness only comes once in a life time," I teased.
"Shutup, all of you," Ms Calendar said, "Okay, opening up- the screen size is huge!"
"If only she said that about things Giles has," Xander said.
"One specific thing," Jesse said.
"Okay, Giles is hung," Ms Calendar said.
"Ew!" I said.
"That's an image I will never be able to get out of my head." Xander said.
"That got weird real fast," Jesse said.
"I just don't believe it," Jen said.
"Please," Giles said, polishing his glasses to sand, "Just… just stop talking."
"Okay, turning on," she said, pressing the power button.
The machine powered up with a high-pitched whine, and screen came to life, a triangle fading into existence on the screen. Characters, not English ones, began to dance across the screen.
"What…" Ms Calandar said, "Is this?" she looked down at the keyboard, which had similar characters, "I can't read this."
"It's Ancient Greek," Giles said, looking at it, "Some dialect I haven't come across."
"Because its code," she turned to us, "I don't suppose either of you knows both computer code and dead languages?"
"Sorry, I flunked Ancient Greek Software last semester," Xander snarked.
The characters continued to dance across the screen at ever increasing speed. And then things got weird.
"The hell?" Ms Calendar said.
"I'm not a geek, but isn't codes supposed to go down?!" I asked.
"It should," Ms Calendar said.
The code was now, somehow, flowing to the right. The cursor was all over dancing across the screen, flowing down and rocketing up and right as it reached the bottom, sending more confusing characters across the screen.
And then things got weirder.
A voice began to speak from the speakiers, raspy and old, but friendly, like a cool, older uncle. I had no idea what he was saying, because he was speaking in some foreign language.
"It's more Greek," Giles said.
"What's he saying?" Jesse asked.
"I don't know," Giles said, "He's speaking to fast. Obviously a native speaker."
"I thought you spoke ancient Greek?" Jen asked.
"It's not like I speak it every day," Giles snapped, "He keeps saying something about a door or some such."
And the things reached their WEIRDEST.
The cursor was dancing across the screen like some epileptic child on crack, and the characters were a confused mess and the screen flashed green, so bright Ms Calendar leaped back and cried out in pain, and all of us were blinded.
When the spots from our eyes finally cleared, a door, grand, imposing stood before the computer. It wasn't solid, in fact, it looked like it was half-made of smoke, and might blow away any second. But it was menacing. Thick iron hinges held it to its frame, and the wood was knotted and roughhewn ebony, black as midnight. Silver designs covered it, with most of it showing scenes of horror and death, heroes in armor fighting and dying against monsters and… things, while the gods looked down on them from above, indifferent to their suffering.
And below those scenes of suffering, were… people. Farmers plowing a field, women spinning thread, artists making things of beauty. All blissfully unaware of the horror just inches above them. Indeed, the heroes stood directly between them and the monsters, locked shield and ready to give their very lives to spare the people.
In a flash I wasn't in Giles' living room. I was once more in Lane the Butcher's hard grip, and my body was filled with terror as Lane squeezed the life out of me. And then Willow, tiny, terrified Willow, leaped on his back and put him in a headlock. And I got a glimpse of Willow eyes, scared to death, yes, but full of determination. Before all the gods, she would not let someone die if she could help it.
And she died that night when Lane snapped her neck like a twig.
Are you going to walk through the door? Annabeth had said once.
Are you going to be a hero?
I remembered the pain, the echoing numbness and sadness and anger and fear and every emotion in the spectrum I felt when Willow was killed. That such an innocent life was snuffed out by evil for the simple fact that it could.
I'll be damned if another felt like I did.
You are damn right I'm going to walk through the door.
I put my hand on the door. I half expected it to pass right through, but it was firm, and warm. Hot even. I pushed, and it swung silently and freely. Darkness stood on the other side.
"Cordy," I heard Xander, "What are you doing?"
I gulped but didn't answer.
"Cordy, wait," he said, "You don't know what'S in there."
"Oh, I do," I said.
Death was in there. Pain, and loss, and darkness, and despair, and every horror, abomination, and evil that ever walked or will walk or crawl of slither or- I don't give a fuck. They will not take another life so long as I live.
I stepped through the door.
Immediately it was like being put into a furnace, except in utter darkness. I thought I would be burned to cinders in an instant, but then I was… enveloped, in a presence that was old and powerful and formless. It was warm and comforting, like Daddy's hugs from when I was a little girl, safe. I heard a voice, both old and young, male and female, human and… other say Cordelia…
It was filled with pride, like what I always wanted Daddy's to sound like.
And I was back in Giles' living room. Annabeth's computer stood open in front of me, cursor blinking at the end of a message.
Good Choice. –A