So here's what you missed on The Other Hellmouth:
Everyone at McKinley is getting ready for Parents' Day.
Quinn: Tomorrow night is Parents' Day at my school, and... I was wondering if you'd like to go. As my parent.
Sofia: Of course, Queen.
But that's not all that's happening this weekend.
Will: My friend April Rhodes called me last night to tell me that according to her calculations, Saturday night is the night of St. Vigeous.
[…]
Buffy: Well, if my slaying doesn't get me expelled then I promise my studying won't get me killed.
There's also some creepy blond guy named Spike in town.
Buffy: Who are you?
Spike: You'll find out on Saturday.
Buffy: What happens on Saturday?"
Spike: I kill you.
Whoa. And that's what you missed on The Other Hellmouth.
xxx
Buffy blinked at the gaping wall of broken glass, barely noticing the flurry of screaming and running around her. Spike - the mysterious man from the night before - was standing among the rubble, his bleached hair slicked back and shining under the dim light, flanked by several other monsters, all of their faces wrinkled and their sharp fangs bared. Buffy stood stock still until their blonde leader lunged forward, his eyes wild and ready to kill. Buffy acted quick and gripped the back of a wicker armchair in the lounge and hit Spike over the head with it, knocking him down and stalling him long enough for her to escape to somewhere safer with a few panicked parents and teachers. She grabbed her mother's hand and ran in the other direction, spreading out wide to shepherd the brunt of the victims away. Leading a small group of people farther and farther away from the lounge, she heard Spike shout, "Nobody gets out! Especially the girl!" and as she approached the entrance of the school with her group, vampires approached to guard the doors, snarling and smiling maniacally.
"Everybody this way! Come on!" called Buffy, not bothering to look back at who she was leading, but trusting that they would follow her as she led them into an empty classroom, hastily locking the door behind her.
She threw her back against the door, feeling the heavy pushes of the vampires behind it. Her mother helped her shove a bookcase in front of it, and Buffy sighed heavily, looking behind her at the small crowd she had accumulated. Among the group of adults were Rachel's fathers, who Buffy had met quite often, Tina's parents, who Buffy had met considerably less often, and an Asian couple, who Buffy was meeting for the first time.
Buffy bit her bottom lip, her stomach turning uneasily when she realized that none of her friends were with her. As the lights went out and the group began to whimper with fear, all Buffy could do was hope that her friends were safe, and press on.
"Who are those people? What do they want?" Hiram asked to no one in particular, his brown eyes wide with fear behind his jam jar glasses.
"I didn't get a good look at them," said Joyce as Buffy kept the bookcase steady against the door, "Is there something wrong with their faces?"
"Vampires!" said Mrs. Cohen, clutching her husband's arm.
"That's nonsense," said the older Asian man, dressed in a smart business suit, "It's a gang. I'll bet they're on PCP. We have to get out of here."
Buffy wrinkled her nose. "I think we should stay right where we are."
"What would you know? You're just a kid," said the man, frowning at Buffy.
"And you are?"
"I'm Michael Chang, Sr., and as an adult, I think I should take control of this situation and leave!"
Mike Chang, Sr., picked up a classroom chair and set it against the window, climbing on top and attempting to pry the window open.
"You can't go outside! They'll kill you!" Buffy shouted at the man.
"You don't tell me, young lady! I tell you!"
Buffy grabbed Mr. Chang, Sr., by the collar of his shirt and pulled him down from the chair.
"They will kill everybody in this room," Buffy said gravely, "Nobody comes in. Nobody gets out. Until I say so. Do you hear me?"
"Who do you think you are?"
"I'm the one who knows how to stop them," Buffy shrugged, and raised her head to inspect the ceiling.
With the other adults gaping at her, she climbed onto a table and removed the lid from a vent in the ceiling.
"Buffy, are you crazy?" asked Joyce, rushing to the side of the table, "I know you have a history of violence, but those guys are serious. You can't go out there."
"I know. That's why I'm going up there," Buffy nodded to the vent and reached inside, splaying her hands against the warm metal and lifting herself up.
Once she was in the cramped, square space, she stuck her head back down the vent, blond hair falling over her eyes.
"Don't worry, Mom," she said, brushing the locks of hair out of her face.
xxx
The halls of McKinley were quiet and empty, only the moonlight to illuminate the checkered linoleum tiles.
"Oh, Slayer," Spike called softly, his face contorted and wrinkled, and the sound of his heavy combat boots thudding against the floor, "Here kitty, kitty. I'll find one of your friends first and I'm gonna suck 'em dry, and use their bones to bash your head in. Are you getting a word picture 'ere?"
Despite the silence, a few were listening intently to the sinister vampire's warning. From the other side of a custodial closet, Sofia Lopez trembled, holding a broomstick close to her chest.
"Ay, dios mio," she whispered to herself, and Quinn laid a hand on her shoulder to keep her calm and still, but she was having trouble keeping her own heart steady.
She looked back at the other residents of the closet, her eyes searching for some sort of reassurance in their faces. She scanned the expressions of the others, ranging from scared stiff to boiling rage. Mr. Hummel's face was red and his lips were pursed, seemingly outraged that he was confined to a closet while tyrants ran amuck outside. She could tell that he would rather be out there, fighting. Rachel's soft face was strangely more serene, but then again, it always seemed to be. Quinn's eyes traced Rachel's slightly knitted eyebrows and trembling pink lips, and for one moment, they're eyes met, and Rachel seemed to smile at Quinn, ever so slightly, struggling to give the girl the reassurance she could sense that she needed. Quinn smiled back, thankfully, and the two girls' eyes trailed away to the fifth person in the room. Tina Cohen-Chang was not angry, nor scared, but rather intensely engrossed in the glowing screen of her iPhone.
"Tina, this is neither the time, nor the place, don't you think?" Rachel asked quietly, slightly offended.
Tina looked up, and blinked at her friend. "Oh, no. I'm researching."
"Did you find anything?" asked Quinn.
Tina leaned in seriously, her head close enough so that only Quinn and Rachel could hear her.
"Spike, that blonde guy? He wasn't always known by that name. He used to be called William the Bloody, but he got his new nickname by torturing his victims with railroad spikes."
"Gruesome," Quinn frowned.
"That's not all. He fought two slayers in the last century... And killed them both."
Rachel took a sharp intake of breath and Quinn bit her bottom lip. "What do we do?" asked Rachel.
"We don't do anything," Quinn hissed, "We stay here and keep safe."
"What about Buffy?"
"Buffy can take care of herself."
Rachel didn't like it, but she didn't argue, leaning back into the closet and continuing to wring her hands together.
"We have to go get help," Burt said gruffly, voicing the opinion that Quinn Fabray didn't want to hear.
"We have to stay here where it's safe until they go away," Quinn said calmly.
"And when will that be? My son's out there!" he hissed, dangerously loud.
"Please, Mr. Hummel-" whimpered Rachel.
"No, I'm going out there. Nobody pushes the Hummels around," said Burt, pushing past Sofia to push the door slightly ajar, poking his round head out to make sure that no one was lurking through the halls.
"Mr. Hummel, wait!" said Tina, fishing through the pocket of her black rain jacket.
She removed a sharp wooden stake from the pocket and tossed it to Burt, who wore a confused look on his face, eyeing the weapon in horror, hoping he'll never have to use it. Nevertheless, he gripped it tightly and tucked it carefully in his sleeve before shutting the thin door behind him, and leaving the four frightened women inside.
xxx
Joyce began to bite her nails, and habit that had been dormant for the better part of a year. She stood still in the dark empty classroom, as did neighbors of hers that were probably just as frightened for their children's safety as she was for Buffy's. The only thing that shook her out of her scared silence was the sudden swing of an axe hitting the classroom door, the sharp red metal poking right through the thin imitation wood with a booming crack.
Joyce gasped and the other parents whimpered and clutched their spouses. Joyce bit her lip, almost piercing the skin as she heard several other booming cracks from out in the southern hall. Those booming cracks happened to be two meter length sharp wooden sticks that Spike and another cohort were shoving in the ceiling in various places, trying to spear the slayer in the vents. Unfortunately for the vampires in the southern hall, the slayer wasn't anywhere near them. She came crashing down from the ceiling just outside the classroom that held her mother captive. The vampire wielding the axe turned around, confused, as Buffy plunged a stake into his heart. As the remnants of the vampire floated away as dust particles out of the limited sight of Joyce Summers, Buffy leaned against the classroom door and peered inside the jagged hole left by the axe, only to see her mother's identical eyes staring back at her.
"Buffy, are you okay?" Joyce asked urgently.
"I'm fine, Mom," Buffy replied, mustering as much calm into her voice as she could manage.
"Buffy, get out of here, we'll be alright!"
Buffy looked left and right before grabbing at the door knob and forcibly ripping the door off its hinges.
"Come on!" she called to her mother and the others, who flooded out of the classroom.
She shoved her mom in the direction of the entrance and yelled, "Get out of here!"
"You're coming, too," said Joyce.
"Go!"
Leaving her mother behind, Buffy rushed down through the other hallway.
"Buffy!" Joyce called after her, but Buffy didn't turn back.
xxx
The only weapon in the world that Kurt Hummel had was his cell phone, and he clutched it to his heart, knowing how truly useless it was out of the social realm. Even with a fairly close connection to a vampire slayer, somehow Kurt was still on the outside looking in. He was one of a minority in glee club who didn't own a stake issued to him by the slayer herself, and he couldn't exactly shoot fireballs from his dainty porcelain hands like a certain Ms. Fabray. He'd often wished that he could be a proper member of the scoobies, not condemned to the life of a gay stock character. But right now, the one thing he wished was that his dad was safe, because the lord - or Patti Lupone - knows that that man has had enough grief for one lifetime.
Kurt held his cell phone to his scrawny chest as he hid in a custodial closet and sat on a turned over mop bucket. Brittany Pierce, his only company for the night, pressed her ear against the closet door.
"I don't think anyone's out there, Britt," said Kurt, who'd been watching the blonde listening intently for the better part of an hour.
"You're right," Brittany sighed, and stood up, flattening down her Cheerios skirt, "I guess it's just me and you, stuck in the closet."
"Am I the only one who sees the irony in this situation?"
"Wait, Kurt, if there's no one out there, then we can probably leave, right? There's no one to stop us."
"I think we should just wait for Buffy..."
"Come on!" said Brittany, who'd already opened the door and rushed out into the empty hall.
"Brittany, wait!" Kurt hissed, and leaped off of the upturned bucket, rushing out to grab Brittany by the hand.
The Cheerio tended to evoke a certain protectiveness from the people who knew her, mainly because either people wanted to be her, screw her, or simply thought she needed a helping hand in the world what with the intellectual capacity she'd been limited with. Kurt, however, didn't find her endearing for any of those reasons. He didn't want to be her, he most definitely didn't want to screw her, and even though she had a reputation as an airhead, Kurt knew very well that someone with her powerful influence and athletic ability would make it just fine in the world. The only reason Kurt felt protective over Brittany was because she meant something to him. Brittany Pierce was Kurt Hummel's first kiss. Yes, it was when Kurt was stuck in a more metaphorical closet and was shrouded in denial, but it still meant something. They were friends, so to speak.
"C'mon, Kurt, there's no one around," Brittany smiled encouragingly, tightening her grip on his hand.
"Brittany, watch out," he said suddenly, attempting to step forward and shield him from the vampire that had come bounding down the hall.
With Brittany behind him, the vampire lashed out with sharp fingernails and slashed red, bloody marks into Kurt's arm. He winced in pain until he heard a man shouting, "Hey!"
Before he knew what was happening, Burt Hummel rammed a sharp wooden stake into the vampire's back, grazing his heart as the vampire disintegrated into dust. Burt looked down at the dust falling to the floor in a small heap, his mouth hanging open and the sound of his pulse loud in his ears.
"Dad..." said Kurt, breathless, as Burt's eyebrows knitted together and he clutched at his own chest, words failing to fall out of his gaping mouth as he fell to his knees, his face contorted in pain.
"Dad!" Kurt yelled, rushing to his father's side.
Burt's pain was washed over by a millisecond of relief, before he fell to the floor on his face, completely unconscious. Brittany whimpered nearby as Kurt attempted to lift his father, and failed.
"Dad!" he cried again, close to hot tears. He had to blink them away and barely noticed as a neighbor, Carole Hudson, came rushing down the hall and into his blurry vision.
"What happened?" she asked, her hand on Burt Hummel's back.
"Kurt's dad fell down and he can't get up," said Brittany, nervously pulling at her hair.
"It's okay, Kurt, we'll get him out of here. It'll be okay," Carole promised.
xxx
Something stopped Spike from his stalky pacing around the school. A smell in the air, perhaps, that he sniffed as he held a sharp, long, wooden stick in both hands. Something that was just as sweet as it was... dangerous? He smiled to himself.
"Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of a nice, ripe... girl."
He turned around to be faced with the slayer as he expected. Down the hall, holding a thick red axe and looking much smaller and cuter than the other slayers he'd killed, even when caked in dust and sweat.
"Do we really need weapons for this?" she asked, her voice unusually calm. Playful, even.
"I just like them," Spike smiled sinisterly, "They make me feel all manly."
They smiled at each other for a brief moment in the dull darkness before he threw aside his stick and Buffy tossed the axe a few feet behind her, landing with a heavy clink.
"The last slayer I killed, she begged for her life. You don't strike me as the begging kind," Spike noted as the two walked nearer, slowly.
"You shouldn't have come here," she said, just a few feet away, her voice light and soft.
"No," Spike laughed, looking over at the wreckage of the school lounge, "I messed up your doilies and stuff. I just got so bored. I'll tell you what. As a personal favor, from me to you, I'll make it quick. It won't hurt a bit."
"No, Spike. It's gonna hurt a lot."
Spike threw a backhanded punch into the air as Buffy swiftly ducked down, and as she kicked at his feet, he jumped up. They fought in a smooth rhythm back and forth, snagging only light jabs at each other, until Spike bested her, knocking her to the ground with a swift kick to her stomach. She lied down, winded and bruised, as he pulled a panel of wood from the wall, and lifted it into the air, only to have his head hit with the blunt side of an axe.
Buffy lifted her head, astonished to see her mother standing over the vampire with an axe in her hand.
"You get the hell away from my daughter," she threatened gravely.
Spike angrily surveyed the two of them before grunting, "Women!" and fleeing back out through the broken window in which he came. Joyce sighed in relief as he left, and dropped the axe.
"Nobody lays a hand on my little girl," Joyce said, her voice shaky, and pulled Buffy into a tight hug.
xxx
As always, the Lima Police and ambulances showed up a little too late to the scene of the crime, but thankfully, everyone was okay as they flooded out of the school and into the arms of loved ones they'd been separated from. Crowds passed as Principal Figgins urged to the police chief that vampires were responsible while Mr. Chang, Sr., assured him that it was gang on PCP.
"So this was another interesting evening," Emma Pillsbury squeaked in quite a small voice as she watched the commotion from the steps of the high school.
"You know, I will understand if you want to start avoiding me," said Will, running his fingers through his copper curls.
Emma didn't reply, but smiled tiredly and slid her arm through his, making the man blush. They briefly passed Buffy and her mother as they stood side by side and watched the others flee.
"So this will probably be your last parent teacher night ever," said Buffy.
"You've got that right. And not even because of that murderous gang, which I'll admit, is a contributing factor, but the main thing is that you're grades are abysmal and I could care less."
"Come again?" Buffy raised her eyebrow at her mother.
"I have a daughter who can take care of herself, who is brave and resourceful and thinks of others in a crisis. No matter who you hang out with, or what dumb teenage stuff you think you need to do, I'm going to sleep better knowing all that."
"So how long 'til this wears off and you start ragging on me again?" Buffy asked with a smirk.
"Oh, at least a week and a half."
"Very cool."
From still inside the now almost empty school, Sofia Lopez knelt on the rough carpet of the janitor's closet with her hands clasped together as Tina, Rachel and Quinn slumped against the walls, feeling a collective migraine coming on.
"...an' Dios, eef you get me an' Queen an' Tina an' Raquel out of thees, I promees to never be malo to no one, not a soul, even that tacky pant suit wearing beetch that married mi hermano unless she insults my bonuelos juan more time, OR, if eet's tha time of tha month, an' if it is, no jou or no one else can hold me responsible por what I say an' do-"
"Ask for some aspirin," groaned Quinn.
"-An' Dios, por favor, send Queen some asp-... 'ey!"
After the four women tiresomely realized that the danger had been averted, they found their way to their respective parents and Quinn and Sofia found their way home with tired eyes and gurgling stomachs. Unfortunately, the first thing they met in the wide foyer of the large Lopez house was Santana Lopez in the hallway with her arms folded over her chest and her eyes wildly darting between the two.
"Where were you?" she demanded loudly.
"Santana, chill, we were held up-" said Quinn.
"It's just a parent teacher meeting. It doesn't last until the small hours of a school night."
"Okay, MOM," Quinn sternly stressed, "If you must know, there was a vampire attack."
All traces of anger left Santana's face for a moment, but just a moment. "Why didn't you call me? I could have helped! Is everyone okay? Is Brittany okay?"
"Everyone is fine, even Brittany. I called her. She went to a hospital-"
"A hospital?"
"She's okay! It wasn't her; it was Kurt Hummel's dad. He got hurt or something-"
"You should have called!"
"Jeez, Santana, we didn't think about it. We're fine, thanks for asking."
"Ay, Santana, just come into the cocina and I make you sometheen to eat," said Sofia.
"I don't want anything to eat! I never do and I never will!" Santana shouted, and balled up her fists, running up the marble staircase before anyone could stop her.
"I go to her," Sofia nodded worriedly.
"No, it's okay. I'll go up," Quinn shook her head, astonished at Santana's behavior.
She briefly wondered if mood swings were a symptom of a malnourished vampire, and she'd have to get Santana to make more regular visits to the butcher. She trotted upstairs and decided against knocking on Santana's bedroom door as she'd surely get a, "Go away!" with the girl in such a fowl mood. Instead, Quinn opted for walking right in unannounced and plopping down on the edge of the bed while Santana paced her dark bedroom with a frown on her face.
"What are you getting so worked up for?" Quinn asked calmly.
"What do you think? Everything's all Quinn and Sofia these days. You watch your dumb movies together and you cook together and what, now she's your legal guardian? Are you gonna go to some mother daughter dance now?"
"Is that even a thing?"
"Who cares? My point is, I'm night-crawling, blood-sucking lesbionic Santana and you two are like... Wiccan Barbie and that one ethnic Bratz doll."
Quinn placed her hand over her knee. "I think you're overreacting," she said.
Santana sighed, and rested her hands on her hips, raising her chin in the air.
"I think you're right," she said wearily and took a seat next to Quinn on the edge of the bed.
"Maybe Sofia and I do spend a lot of time together, but she's all I have, just like you," shrugged Quinn.
"I just wish... I mean, you only get one mom. Most people anyways. Sure, some don't have any, some get to have two, but most of us get the one, and it's hard knowing that I had my mom and now I don't and I never got to have... closure. Know what I mean?"
"I know exactly what you mean."
"Right. Sometimes I forget how similar we are. Which brings me to the point that we have a history of having... territorial issues. Sometimes I feel like we fight because we're in each other's way. I have a problem with sharing, I know that. So I get jealous. I got jealous when you got head cheerleader and I didn't. I got jealous when you slept with Puckerman, even after I dumped him. And now I'm getting jealous of you and Sofia."
"Santana, you don't need to feel that way."
"I know... I don't know what it is, Q. It's like I've always wanted a mom who loved me more than anything else in the world and Sofia is the closest thing I'll ever get to that."
Quinn stared at her denim clothed knee and knitted her eyebrows nervously. "Santana... What you want, you have."
"I know, I know, Sofia is just like the mom of my dreams-"
"No, Santana, Sofia is the mom of your reality."
"Okay, sure, but-"
"No, Santana, listen..."
Santana looked up from the carpet and into Quinn's troubled, cactus green eyes.
"Quinn..."
"I promised not to tell."
"...Oh my God... Sofia's not... Sofia is. She is, isn't she?"
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I... I promised."
Santana's eyes dropped to the floor. "I knew it," she whispered to herself.
