A/N: So here goes... my attempt at a Buffy tale. This is Canon Divergent and is my take on a challenge I read on Elysian Fields. It was proposed by Puppet and was termed the Worst of Humanity. If you wish to read the challenge, you can find it on the previously mentioned site. Otherwise, I will post the criterion for the challenge later so that any quirks in the tale remain at least a wee bit of a surprise. I hope that you enjoy it. - Me
The Worst of Humanity
The Vacuity existed outside of time in a space known only to those of true power. Even the beings long entombed in the Deeper Well knew little of the potential powers which existed in the confines of the vast nothing that existed at both the beginning and the end of time simultaneously. A kaleidoscope of colors more vivid and varied than any rainbow dreamed of approaching shimmered and swirled into the dark nothingness.
"It is time," pulsed the light with an excitement that would remind a nostalgic human of the grandly anticipated arrival of Christmas morning in the voice of a cherub-faced innocent.
For a moment, the darkness seemed to swell in answer. "Why do you care?" it whispered into actuality without need of form for creation.
"The Father sent a Son across every existence... why can I not have a daughter in just this one?"
A chuckle thundered in a swelling crescendo until the deafening sound and the dancing light suddenly disappeared as abruptly as it appeared.
Three clusters of handsome, well dressed, young men waited patiently in the subterranean worship site under the innocuous seeming Delta Zeta Kappa fraternity house. Upstairs, young college students went about their daily business of studying or relaxing as the need fit. Rumbling music from no less than six different sources and of equally varied styles greeted the residents as they moved through the richly decorated home situated on the edge of the Crestwood College campus. No expense was spared in the decoration or the personal property of the entitled brothers who were following in the illustrious footsteps of the fathers, uncles and grandfathers. In the torch lit chambers in the bowels of the fraternity, several collections of quietly murmuring members discussed the evenings plans. Each group contained seven prospects. Silence settled across the room as a casually arrogant man descended the steps. The tall, lanky blond reached the last stone step and gazed fondly around the dimly lit chamber.
"Brothers," he solemnly intoned. "Graduation is nearly upon us and it is time to pass the mantel of responsibility from those who are moving onto the prosperity promised us by our birthright and duty to the great Machida."
"Blessed be his name," responded the assembled fraternity brothers.
Their leader smiled benevolently at the young men. Everything was as he had anticipated and the current high priest of the brotherhood anticipated grand displays given the dedication of the assembled believers.
"Tonight, you will compete to determine who will be blessed with the leadership of tomorrow," the confident young man instructed.
The three groups cheered and nudged each other companionably. Each was sure that their group would win the competition and receive the honor of placement in the inner court. In the one group, a dark haired young man turned to one of his closest friends. Tom offered Richard an arrogant smirk. They knew they were going to win with what they had devised. They had been planning for weeks and had already secured all the supplies needed. Everything was just waiting in the old garage behind the fraternity house for the moment of use. It would be a fitting testament to their dedication to the giver of their families greatest gifts.
"Remember, the power and blessing of Machida will bloom in those whose hearts are open to his greatness. Show your depth of devotion and strength of your convictions with the fervor of your actions. Prove your place with your offering of destruction or defilement," the leader charged. His voice swelled in a zealot's benediction. "For Machida!"
"In his name," echoed through the rocky chamber.
"If we're lucky, we'll catch Buffy before she reaches The Master," Angel intoned softly with a worried flicker of his eyes towards the agitated youth following him through the same cemetery were the teen was first baptized into the world of the supernatural. Although the souled vampire originally felt unable to war against the power of prophesy, Xander's scathing yet ultimately honest and heartfelt words provided him the impetus to step beyond his doomed acceptance.
"Yeah..." the normally glib boy replied solemnly. In light of the prophesy foretelling the impending death of someone he loved, no jokes fell from Xander's mouth. His complete lack of ill-timed humor served to further slam home the serious thoughts of the two men. One searcher stood on the cusp of adulthood and the other stood unchanged in the years since his first death. Despite their inherent differences and unquestionable dislike for each other, the two rushed through the broken iron gate erected over the closest entrance from Angel's home to the electrical tunnels that networked the underbelly of Sunnydale. Together they would face the darkened passageway with a mutual goal foremost in their minds. They would do whatever they could to save Buffy Summers from the fate foretold in the Codex.
"GILES!" screamed Cordelia Chase from her position at the main doors to the library. Her cries, honed from her years of cheering, cut across the chaotic thunder of the converging vampires' attack. The flustered librarian rushed a quick foray into his office where he retrieved two wooden crosses and several bottles of holy water. Rapidly, Giles filled his pockets with the containers of blessed liquid. Just as rapidly, he ran from the office. He glanced over his shoulder to the stacks where Willow and Ms. Calender were successfully blocking the undeads' current attempts to gain access from that direction. At least for the present, that way was safe from invasion. Giles headed towards the eminent threat at the main library entrance. Hastily, the Brit slapped the wooden cross he wielded against the flailing vampire arm that was attempting to grab hold of the frightened cheerleader.
A sizzle and a puff of smoke accompanied the pained cry from the other side of the door before the viciously swinging arm retreated.
"Go help the others," Giles ordered Cordelia as he passed one of the crosses to the terrified young woman.
Quick to follow the direction from someone she hoped knew what he was doing, the pretty brunette practically flew across the damaged floor of the library and flung herself against the bookshelf barrier that the other females were already bracing. Her added weight helped secure the back entry from the fumbling rear attack.
With a deft movement, the rumpled librarian flicked the lid from the largest bottle of blessed water. When another hand crept through the broken window, it met with a soaking. Screams of agony accompanied the immediate withdrawal of the previously attacking appendage. Giles clutched the still three quarters full vampire agony in a bottle as he waited for another attack.
"I don't understand," the confused vampire whispered as he crouched by the entrance to the cave that housed The Master. Angel could feel the pulsing presence of his grand-sire within the darkened ruins beyond their current position. It made no sense to him why there had been no change in the head of the Aurelius clan's imprisonment. Angel had been sure that Buffy would have already arrived. "This is the only entrance to the lair but I can't smell Buffy anywhere."
Xander knelt beside his souled companion and stole a quick glance into the ruins of the collapsed church.
"Well, we got stuck and had to backtrack because of the tunnel collapse from the earthquake. Maybe Buffy had the same problem," the teen speculated as his gaze traveled around the rubble strewn tunnel. A dim light from the city maintained tunnels allowed the duo to see the obvious transition from inner maintenance structure to earthquake ruin.
Angel shook his head in denial.
"She was being led by the Anointed One. He would have known how to reach the entrance even with any blocked paths."
"Something is definitely off," Xander replied in the closest approximation to agreement that he would concede to the broody vampire.
"She has to pass us to reach The Master," the souled vampire simply stated as he hunched against the ravaged wall of rock. If Buffy was not here yet, Angel was not about to leave and risk missing her arrival. The Slayer had finally bravely embraced her destiny and Angel was sure she would face The Master soon.
With a sigh, the dark-haired youth settled into place beside his silent companion. All they could do was wait for Buffy to arrive. From their position, the two men who loved The Slayer stood sentry to the entry to her prophesy. Even if the Codex foretold of Buffy's death when the slayer had to face The Master that night, they would ensure that she did not face him alone. Each hoped that their presence would be enough to sway the force of fate.
The renewed attack that Giles anticipated never arrived. Minutes passed. No new hands groped aimlessly at the pile of office furniture and library supplies stacked by the entrance.
Just as quickly as it began, the sounds of impending doom disappeared from the school room. The converging vampires seemed to lose interest in the trapped foursome and crept back into the night. It was like they suddenly realized that there was easier prey somewhere else and that the compulsion to converge on the library had disappeared.
The only sound to remain was the ragged breaths of the four exhausted survivors. As the adrenaline dissipated from their bodies, the physical and emotional stress of the evening overwhelmed them. Shaken, the two teens and their two mentors settled into seats as they waited for the return of The Slayer and an answer to their burning questions about Buffy's battle with The Master.
"Giles... Giles... GILES!" Xander yelled from outside the blocked doors of the library.
At the sudden call, Rupert startled awake from his position at the large table in the center of the ransacked library. He lifted his head from its resting place on the wooden table and blinked several times in hopes of clearing his mind. Another frenzied call issued from the other side of the barricade. Fumbling for his glasses, Giles finally awoke enough to remember where he was and why he was there. A quick glance around the dimly lit room showed the first light of dawn filtering through the overhead windows. The visible sky was just lightening from the darkened black to the short-lived indigo that heralded the start of a glow on the horizon. Beside him at the table, Willow Rosenberg's red hair obscured her face as she slept with her head resting on her crossed arms. On the other side of the table, Jenny Calender also snoozed with her head cushioned on her arms and the table. Their third companion was curled into what Giles imagined to be a very painful ball on a chair near the steps leading to the stacks.
Stretching the muscle kink from his neck and correcting the position of his eye glasses, Giles moved towards the still barricaded entrance. He shuddered as the flustered teen yelled his name once more.
"Do be quiet, Xander," the exhausted Watcher ordered as he began to slowly remove the various items blocking the double doors. From behind him, Giles heard the other occupants of the library start to stir.
When the final item had been removed, the disheveled Brit barely had time to move from the doorway before the younger man barreled into the library. With fear evident in his face and body stance, Xander searched the occupants of the room. The teen's clothes were covered with dust and debris. A streak of dirt ran across his cheek where Xander had absently swiped his filthy hand across his tired face. His shoulders slumped even more at the disappointment that stabbed his already damaged reserve of hope.
"Buffy's not here, is she?" the teen demanded more than questioned.
Giles swallowed down the hopeless pain that had been burning in his stomach since he read the prophesy in the Codex. "She has not yet returned from facing The Master," the older man replied.
"Yeah? Well she never got to The Master. I know this little fact because I just spent the night huddled in a crummy cave waiting for her. And let me just say how not fun spending unending hours in the dark with the brooding Dead Boy is," blustered Xander as he absently tried to wipe the grime and dirt from his hands. The attempt was fruitless since his pant's leg was just as stained has his skin.
"So you never saw her?" Rupert incredulously queried as they were joined by a barely conscious Willow who was rubbing her eyes to remove the sleep sand from them.
"Where's Buffy?" the awkward red head asked hesitantly with an expression of deep concern marring her normally smiling face.
"That seems to be the pertinent question of the morning," Giles responded as he once more turned his attention to Xander. "Angel couldn't find her?"
"He didn't find a trace of her," the dark haired teen replied. "He insisted that The Master was still trapped in the hellmouth like his vamp-corky-self. Said that he could feel him but nothing on the Buffster. We stayed there so we could help her when she showed up but she never reached the entrance to the cave."
Both Willow and Giles frowned.
"But then where is she?" Willow questioned giving words to all their fears.
Exasperated, Xander threw his hands into the air. "I have no clue!" he cried. "She isn't at home. I checked on my way here. The place was dark and no one was home. Not even her mom."
Xander began to pace in the small space between the card catalog and the shelf of periodicals.
"She didn't go to Dead Boy's apartment. She isn't home. She isn't here. She wasn't in the tunnels. She isn't anywhere!"
Before anyone could respond to the irate rant, the telephone in Rupert's office shrilly sounded. The trio turned towards the sound with expressions of incomprehension on their collective faces. The phone rang once again.
"Perhaps that is Buffy now," suggested Cordelia from her reclining position. The boisterous arrival of her classmate had woken both the preppy teen and the neo-pagan but neither had felt compelled to join the confusion at the library entrance.
When the phone rang a third time, Jenny arose from her seat and shuffled to the office. She answered it just as it rang for a forth time.
"Sunnydale High School Library," she calmly stated as she ran her free hand through her hair to improve her disheveled appearance. The computer teacher frowned slightly. "Yes, Rupert Giles is available. Can you hold please."
Jenny set the receiver on the cluttered desk and stepped from the Watcher's office.
"Rupert, a rather stiff sounding English gentleman named Quentin Travers wishes to speak with you," she informed the librarian.
For a moment, no one moved. The agitated color on Gile's cheeks disappeared as he instantly paled. The older gentleman swallowed then took a deep breath before moving towards his office. For a moment, he stared at the phone and resisted the urge to just disconnect the call. Whatever Travers wanted to tell him could not be good. Apprehensively, the Watcher picked up the telephone handset and greeted the caller.
The other four occupants of the library followed him and stood in the doorway. They silently watched as Giles spoke with the unknown British man. They moved closer together as Giles became increasingly agitated, and the normally reserved librarian's speech became disjointed. When Giles pulled his glasses from his face and dropped them onto the desktop, Willow took Xander's hand seeking comfort. Shivers of dread ran up all their spines as the flustered Watcher shifted from stammering librarian to a harshly cussing menace. As vicious words flew from the normally sedate Brit's mouth, silent tears began to fall from Willow's eyes. Xander fought the urge to scream as his friend clutched at his hand even tighter.
After a particularly inventive and crude demand that left no question as to where and what Giles wanted the other Brit to go and do, Rupert slammed the handset back onto the telephone base. The plastic casing cracked under the force of the blow. Violent shudders quaked in the Watcher's body for a moment as he closed his darkened eyes. After a few deep breaths where the distraught librarian resumed control of his formidable temper, he opened his hazel eyes and turned to his four companions.
"There..." he started but his voice cracked. Giles cleared his throat and swallowed once more. Despite all his years of training and his predominately traditional English upbringing, Rupert was ill prepared for this moment. After another deep breath he tried again. "That was the head of the Watchers Council."
Another deep breath gave the rattled man the strength to continue. "A new slayer has been called."
Silence reined in the library for a number of heartbeats. Shock and distress weighed too heavily in each ones hearts to allow for anything more than an immediate visceral response.
"Just great," complained Cordelia with the harsh honesty that typified her everyday demeanor. "Now who is going to keep us from being vamp-chow?"
"Shut up, Cordy!" Xander ordered as he formed a shaking fist with his free hand. Disillusionment, anger and self-doubt plagued his grief. All the teen could think was that there should have been something he could have done to protect Buffy. Beside him, Willow started to sob as the loss of her vivacious best friend took hold in her heart. Ms. Calander gathered the crying teen into a supportive embrace as Cordelia actually obeyed Xander's curt directive. After all, a new slayer had been called. What was left for them to say?
