WELL it has been a while, hasn't it? Just one more chapter after this, ladies and 'gents!
"Spike! I'm so glad I found you! Are you alright, is that slime on your jacket?"
"Eh? Bit of Zombie, don't worry about it, where's Angel and the others?" Spike grasped her hand and pulled her up to his level, keeping a hand safely at her elbow.
"That's who we're going to find right now, I just saw Wesley!"
"Percy? What- but isn't he-" Spike's heart slumped in his chest, but he quickly shoved it into a corner, now was simply not the time for that.
"Yes, he is, he's a ghost, but he's trapped here- oh I'll fill you in on the way, we need to find Lorne and Charles, come on." She grabbed his hand and dragged him out into the hallway, pulling him down the corridor and chattering all the way.
And while Spike listened intently, he couldn't hide a little seed of happiness in the way her fingers curled around his.
Angel landed with a crack against the pine desk on the other end of the room, sending papers flying. With some effort, he lifted his head and made his way into sitting position. He was having a terrible day with judging things, especially Silas' strength. He had seemed thin and weak, but somehow he had matched Angel in force, and the Vampire was now paying for his lack of foresight. He should have known a Sorcerer would have some way of enhancing his strength, and his dilemma now was to find the source, and destroy it.
Or at the very least, find a weakness.
His eyes met Silas', and the Demon held up a hand, a glitter of Angel's own blood on his fingers, and with a calculated gesture, licked the red fluid from his hand.
"Your guilt is delicious," he grinned.
Angel snarled, his facing going full-on Vamp mode. "Time to even the playing field..." With a roar, he gripped the hilt of the shortsword inside his coat and lunged at Silas, swinging the blade with impossible speed to slice into the flesh of the Demon's upheld hand. There was a sickeningly wet thuck as the hand hit the floor, leaving a spouting stump of an arm in it's place.
Silas shrieked in pain and rage, staggering backward and clutching the stump of his hand. Angel spun the sword in his hand, unable to contain a smirk.
"You'll pay for that,"
"Prove it."
Illyria was starting to dislike this body. Not that it wasn't useful, but it had served it's purpose, and the Old One found she did not feel quite comfortable using the human male form. Though she had been trying a few things and she thought maybe she could make some alterations... It did not yet matter, because her plans would shortly come to fruition. Instead, she turned her eyes to her reward for handing over Angel.
A body.
She ran a hand that was not hers over the new body that Silas had crafted for her; a series of humanoid parts connected with mechanics, with such vague features as she could mold it however she pleased. A body that, while it would never replace her true form, would be hers and hers alone, and not plagued with memories and lost thoughts. It would not decompose should she exit it's containment, and her head cocked to the side as she admired it's circuitry. Vail had done well, at least in this aspect of her own endeavors.
Silas Vail... Cocky, foolhardy, filled with too much of a rush for vengeance and not enough patience. He was not worthy of the power he weilded.
And Illyria was decided, once she finished with Angel and the others, she would take what she desired.
Slowly, undulating, Illyria slipped from the body of Trevor and entered the bionic one, her traditional garb melting over it's body and covering any loose circuitry that was visible. It's face became heavily angled, exotic and ancient looking, like something from the hieroglyphic figures in Egypt.
When she was pleased, she stood and took her leave from the room.
Angel was pleased to see that his day was taking a turn for the better. One-handed, Silas could not block Angel's swings as easily, and it hadn't taken long then for Angel to get Silas on the ropes.
Silas' strength may have matched his, but his experience was nothing compared to Angel's.
They traded blows, bruises bloomed on red and pink skin, blood fell to the floor and mingled with the severed hand that lay forgotten on the carpet. Furniture was crushed underneath bodies and stuffing went flying from a misguided sword swipe. Eyebrows were singed from barely missed fireballs.
Fireballs?
He had only one hand, but that one hand was now full of fire, and it was lunging at Angel, who quickly ducked and barreled his shoulder into Silas' stomach. The Demon let out a wheeze as he lost all the air in his lungs, and the fire on his fingers fizzled into oblivion. Silas landed on the floor, wheezing against the wall, with Angel's sword-tip pressed against his jugular.
And then... Silas was making a bizarre noise, and Angel couldn't figure it out until he realised the gurgling, wheezing noise was laughter. Silas was laughing.
"Do it, do it now. Kill me, I'd love to see you try."
Bloodstained teeth shone through his lips, and Angel moved to slice open Silas' neck when-
"Angel, stop! Don't kill him!"
From the floor beneath Silas' shins popped Wesley, who stood with Angel's sword sticking through where his liver should be.
Angel gaped, and could really only blink.
"Wesley! Don't you dare!"
The ghost spun around. "You're not in charge of me any longer, Vail." he spun around again to face Angel. "Angel, he's the only one who can alter the contracts and free you from Wolfram and Hart, if you kill him, you'll be stuck, forever, like I am."
"Wesley- what?"
Wesley stared the confused Vampire down. "Your souls, all of our souls, are tied to Wolfram and Hart via the contracts we signed. You kill him, you'll never be able to alter them, you'll all be stuck here upon your deaths, like I am."
Postponing his initial shock at Wesley standing in front of him, Angel looked around his ghostly friend to look at Silas, who was still breathing in shaky breathes and scowling.
Suddenly, everything clicked into place. The whole fight, everything, had been one big attempt at revenge, stranding all of them in this office for eternity... The ultimate last laugh.
They'd found both Lorne and Charles locked in a broom closet on the fourth floor, bickering with each other and trying to open the door. Fred hastily explained the situation to the two of them while they dashed up stairways and sprinted down hallways on their way to the main lobby.
"Wes is here? As in here here? He's been here this whole time?"
"Yes! It's awful, and if we don't get up there soon, Angel's gonna kill Silas and all our souls will be stuck here, forever! Well," she added, breathless. "Except Spike."
"Lucky you, Spike, what're you sticking around for?"
Spike grunted at Gunn. "This kind of group is hard to come by, Charlie-boy. I don't get to make fun of my grand-sire on a daily basis in anybody else's company."
Lorne chuckled. "What he's really saying, is that he loves us."
"Yeah, well- shit!"
They had turned a corner, and standing there was what appeared to be an Egyptian woman with blue-tinged skin wearing Illyria's catsuit. They stopped dead in their tracks.
"Spike, Burkle, Gunn, Green one. We have... things to discuss."
"It's why I'm still here, why Fred didn't die. They're on their way up here, right now."
Angel lowered his sword, but kept it trained on Silas' other wrist, just in case. "What do we do now, then?"
"Just... don't let him die."
Angel's face turned slightly worried, and he glanced down at the slowly oozing stump of an arm. "Right."
Swiftly, he pulled off his belt and turned it into a tourniquet, slowing the bloodflow in Silas' arm. He pulled off his jacket and shredded it, wrapping parts of it around Silas' stump to try and bandage it.
He'd lost a lot of blood, Angel could hear the slowed heartbeat in the Demon's chest and moved him to sit in the still-intact office chair, binding his arms to the sides of it with several shreds of his jacket.
While Angel gathered the scattered contracts from where they had landed when his back crushed the desk, Silas started laughing.
"There's nothing you can do, you know. I won't willingly change those, and you won't kill me in the hope that I'll change my mind. You're done, Angelus. You and your friends are finished."
"You'd better rethink that, or-"
"Or what?" Silas cackled. "You'll kill me?"
Angel went silent.
There was a lengthy moment of nothing but silence, except for Silas' joyful laughter. There really was nothing to be done.
But then the door opened, and in walked a woman that Angel had never seen before, but was quite clearly Illyria.
"Ah! The Old God, finally. It's about time."
Illyria peered around the room, and her eyes locked on Wesley for the briefest of moments, then turned to settle on Angel, who looked curious.
Silas strained weakly in his chair. "What are you waiting for? Either kill him or release me! I trust you took care of the other four?"
Illyria slowly made her way to the chair where Silas sat, eyes never leaving Angel, who watched her like a hawk as she made her way across the room. "They have been dealt with..." Angel's eyes darkened. "Though, it astounds me how someone like you could even think for one moment that I would listen to your orders."
Illyria placed the palm of her hand on the top of Silas' skull.
"I AM A QUEEN!" she bellowed, clutching his scalp with such force that his whole head began to shake.
Then suddenly, Illyria's body dropped to the floor, and Silas' body seized up, convulsing and shaking while something happened to him on the inside. Then, as soon as it had started, it was over.
Silas' eyes turned blue, and his skin took on a purpleish blue tint, cobalt veins spiderwebbing across his skin and cheeks.
From the door, four head peeked in.
"Y'all okay in here?"
"Little Shiva do it yet?"
Angel blinked, Wesley's mouth dropped open, and Illyria broke the restraints that kept Silas' body to the chair, stepped over her own body, and pulled the contracts from Angel's grip.
"Give me a writing utensil." she held out her hand.
Something snapped in Angel's head. "Hold the hell up! Do you guys want to explain to me what.. what the fuck just happened?"
Fred blinked. "Wow, I've never heard Angel curse like that."
"It's been a rough day, alright?"
"Okay, so we know the contracts locked our souls to Wolfram and Hart."
Angel nodded, and Fred continued as Illyria scribbled away at the papers.
"It's written into our contracts that the only person who could let loose our souls from Wolfram and Hart would be the CEO, but no CEO was ever going to willingly sign our souls over to us. This was the problem that none of us had thought about- well, we hadn't really thought of any of it since we only just found all of this out today, so I'd say it's been a pretty productive evening, wouldn't you?"
Angel lifted a brow.
"Anyway, Illyria's been playing both sides of the field for weeks, as soon as she left my body she hooked up with Vail here, or, not here, sort of, I'm not really sure right now."
Lorne butted in. "When, secretly, she's been on our side this whole time."
"I am on no side, I merely chose the stronger ally."
"Sure, blue."
Charles went on with Fred's speech, continuing with what she'd been saying. "Anyway, we met up with Illyria in the hallway, and she explained that she had a plan to get our contracts fixed, and get herself a new fancy pair of shoes to walk around in." he pointed at the body that still lay beside the crushed desk. "So she took over Silas' body, making her the new CEO. Now, she's changing our papers and getting us our souls back in our posession."
Angel rubbed his forehead. "So... we owe Illyria, don't we?"
"Yes, you do indeed... owe me." Illyria paused in her writing to look out the window, where the sun was beginning to rise. "I no longer wish to take this world for my own. It is not an adequate kingdom, and many of your... advancements in technology make my auditory appendages shriek with rage and irritation. As do many of the humans. I wish to travel the planes. But I will need someone here, on this solid plane, to watch my vessel, and be certain it reaches no harm."
"I can't believe this..."
"There is nothing to believe. I speak only truth. That is what you owe me. Wesley; prepare yourself. I have finished with theirs, but I will sign yours, now."
Wes nodded. "Just... just give me a moment, will you?"
Illyria complied, setting down her pen for the moment.
He approached Charles first. "Charles I... I am so terribly sorry for what I did. I have no excuse."
"Hey, man, you know... If it had been me, I guess I would have done the same. You were freaked and... I don't blame you. It was good to see you, you know? One more time." Charles made a motion to clasp Wesley's hand, but it passed right through.
Wesley smiled sadly. "Thankyou."
He turned to Lorne and Spike. "Goodbye, Lorne, Spike."
"See ya, Percy."
"Have a good afterlife, Wes."
"Angel,"
The Vampire smiled. "Good luck, Wes."
He returned the smile. "Yes, thankyou."
Finally he turned to Fred, and stepped towards her to place his hands on her shoulders as best he could. "I-"
"No, Wesley... Just no." Fred lifted a hand to try and place it on Wesley's cheek, but her fingertips sunk into his temple and stayed there. "You'll always be here, you're never going to be really gone, you know. I know that, anyway. You stayed with me, Wesley, when I was dying. I'll never, ever forget that." tears welled up in her eyes and Fred smiled at him as best she could.
For the briefest of moments, Wesley became solid, or solid enough to press his forehead against hers and murmer to her. "I love you."
Fred was crying when he pulled back, but Wesley appeared to have a great weight lifted from his shoulders.
"Illyria..." he muttered. "Go ahead."
The Old One brought the pen across the page, and gently, like a fading photograph, Wesley Windham-Price disapeared, and was at peace.
There was quiet, and Spike walked over to Fred and pulled her into his arms in a hug. She clung to him, shaking with quiet sobs.
"S'alright, pigeon," he muttered. "S'okay."