Chapter Eight: SYOTOS
Spike growled under his breath from his position, tied to one of the Isle of the Blessed's macabre statues. Sam, now clad in a JTF2 uniform, was lashed to the small altar that the kids had avoided like the plague months earlier. Sam's squad bound him with absolutely no regard for the sniper's broken right arm. Braddock's scream as his broken arm was yanked tight against the cold, unforgiving stone ripped through Spike, twin daggers of outrage and anguish in his heart. To the bomb tech's fury, Sam hadn't struggled, hadn't fought; he'd just accepted everything done to him with an air of tired acceptance.
Ryan and Alicia looked gleeful, Matt only marginally less so. Hersh was smirking; now there was a sociopath if Spike had ever seen one. Though distressed, Alex lived up to Sam's predictions regarding his follow-the-leader tendencies. Only Hawke appeared truly displeased with the turn of events.
"Now we begin," Ryan announced, moving forward with a dagger in his hand. "We will Mirror Life and Death, granting my brother the life he should have."
A contemptuous glare was thrown at Sam, who still wasn't struggling. Spike, grasping a small, sharp pocket knife he'd been able to keep hidden, began to saw at his bonds, working as fast as he could. Ryan held out a hand to Alicia, who offered him an ancient tome with a deep bow. Stepping forward to the altar, Ryan leafed through the tome, locating a page within it. In a loud, ringing voice, Ryan ordered, "Ic, seo heahsacerd, the acwelle, strengthe ealdan aewfaestnesse! (2)"
Spike cringed, but nothing happened. One rope gave under his frantic efforts; he kept going, pushing past the lingering remnants of the curse he'd been hit with.
"You said it would work!" Alicia shrieked. "You said the spell you found was from the Old Religion; you said it would give Matt his life back!"
"It should have," Ryan growled, examining the text more closely.
The bomb tech pulled at his bonds, but they weren't loose enough yet to get away.
"Kill him," Matt ordered. "That will give the magic enough blood to work."
Ryan looked up at his brother, hesitating an instant, but Spike could see he'd do it…anything to get his brother back. After a moment, Ryan bowed his head. "You're right, of course; forgive me for delaying, brother."
A chill crawled up Spike's spine and he sawed at the second rope with renewed terror; it gave. Spike bolted away from the statue, racing across the grass to Sam; as soon as he got there, he started cutting the ropes holding his teammate down.
"No!" Ryan snarled, drawing his wand. "Diffindo!"
Spike twisted, bringing up his left vambrace; it absorbed the hit in a flare of emerald light. Alicia, Hersh, and Alex were forced back as magic flared from the altar itself, reacting to Spike's armor. A last-ditch idea occurred to Spike as Matt started forward with an enraged howl of his own. "In Aslan's name, stay back!" Matt halted, his black eyes changing…a panic in them that Spike hadn't seen before. The ropes on Sam's wrists gave all at once; Spike didn't have time to consider why that was, he just hauled Sam off the altar as everything went sideways – and right for the first time in days.
Harry was casting as soon as he landed; a Stunner flew at the nearest figure, a man with black hair in a military cut. The man was turning as he was struck and went down without a fight. To Harry's right, the Muggles charged, brandishing not their usual Muggle weapons, but swords and bows; the Isle was too heavily steeped in magic for modern technology to work properly. To his left, Auror Onasi tangled with a man Harry identified as Hersh; the Squib was doing his level best to kill the Auror with his bare hands and a combat knife.
Jules Callaghan found herself tangling with Alicia Shpak; the young constable lost her bow as Alicia swiped at her with her own combat knife. Jules countered the thrust with a move Alanna had taught her, but both weapons went flying. Deprived of weapons, the two women went at each other with nails and muscle, their hand-to-hand combat skills getting quite the workout as they traded blows and snarls.
Greg Parker ended up opposite Ryan Peck, with his nephew right behind him. The fight was on as Lance deflected an Incendio with a sharp, "Gescildan." Greg charged, trying to knock the wizard's wand out of his hand to end the conflict before it could heat up any more. He missed, but his nephew's swift – and wandless – casting tipped the balance of the fight in the Sergeant's favor.
Lou's fight was over before it even started as his opponent eyed him, then lifted both hands in surrender. "Didn't want any of this anyway," the blue-eyed, brown haired man admitted. "Was going bad even before we grabbed Braddock." Despite the surrender, Lou cuffed the man and searched him thoroughly.
Wordy and Ed were almost caught off guard by the Shade; Wordy got his shield up at the last second as it charged. His boots proved their worth yet again as they helped him lean into the hit, sliding only a few centimeters instead of ending up flat on his back and helpless. Ed planted an arrow in the Shade's shoulder, drawing a yowl of pain from it. Awkward, but determined, Wordy shifted enough to pull his sword loose from its sheath. But before he could attack, before Ed could loose his next arrow, another arrow streaked past and into the Shade's heart. Violet magic blazed, the runes on the arrowhead flaring and ending the Shade's rampage before it could go any further.
Spike hauled Sam out of range as Sam's former squad was distracted by the new arrivals. If he could keep his friend safe just a little longer… But, just as suddenly as backup had appeared, Sam moved, shoving the bomb tech away and pulling a gun. The sniper bolted, racing up the steps into the long-ruined fortress. Spike raced after him, yelling his teammate's name. When Sam hit the top of the stairs he whirled, aiming his weapon at Spike.
"Stay back!"
"I can't do that, Sam," Spike countered, though he was careful to keep both hands in view.
A trapped expression spread over Sam's face and he began to back away. Spike crept forward, managing to hit the top of the stairs, where he froze in horror as he realized why Sam had turned on him. The steps going further up were long decayed, too broken to use, but Sam didn't need to go up any more. The sniper was backing towards where there had, long ago, been a wall, but there was no wall any more – just a drop into the ocean surrounding the Isle.
Sam kept his weapon level, even though he held it in his left hand; it was aimed directly at his teammate, whom he no longer recognized. He backed away slowly, step by step – right towards the edge of the crumbling ruin around them. The sniper trembled, his gun jolting and wavering, his body worn down by his treatment at the hands of his former unit. Sweat poured down his face and his blue eyes were dim, murky, and still so horribly blank.
"It was my fault," he rasped, still backing up, away from Spike.
Black hair flew with the force of its owner's head shake. "No, Sam, it wasn't," he pleaded, his mobile face twisted in fear; not for himself, but for his friend who steadily backed towards a drop into the churning ocean below. "Come on, Sam, come on. This isn't you," Spike cried, fear throwing his voice up an octave. "Put the gun down and we can go home, you and me, buddy."
Sam Braddock shook his head, trembling with the events of the past week, with the delusion he'd been forced into. "I betrayed them," he retorted, the self-loathing dripping from each word.
Spike edged forward, still keeping his hands in view. "Sam, buddy, you didn't. Believe me, you didn't betray anyone." He eyed the distance between his teammate and the edge, trying to keep calm. "Come on, Sam, let's get the heck out of here and go home; Lou owes me a homecoming party and you owe me a drink or two." His smile felt strained, fear overriding what negotiating skills he had.
Sam's brow furrowed, something flashing in his eyes. His body shook, the gun lowering long enough for Spike to sneak a few more steps closer. The sniper gasped, sucking in breath, almost doubling over with a soft moan. But before Spike could close the gap, Braddock had recovered, bringing his gun back up and once again sneaking back towards the edge.
Behind him, the ocean waves leapt upwards, their white caps crashing against the once magnificent island fortress. The roar of those waves sounded greedy, hungry for blood to a certain panicking bomb tech. His teammate and friend backed up another step, the stone under his boots crumbling as the sniper's weight bore down on it. "Sam, stop!" Spike begged. "I know it feels like everything's falling apart, but it's not. Put the gun down, get away from the edge, and let's go home, Samtastic."
Sam's eyes flickered, but, as they turned towards Spike, they went opaque again. As he shifted to step back again, he said, "See you on the other side."
"Sam, no!" Spike screamed as the ledge crumbled and Sam fell downwards, towards the hungry waves below.
[2] Old English for 'I, the High Priestess, kill you, by the power of the Old Religion!'
