A/N: Shout outs to sonyavasquez, Sweetie420, Aurlia, bleuboxes, LILYpadsROX, Sage of wind Dragons, Madre, and MewLover9000.
Items of business: First, Madre, as the 200th reviewer, if you could let me know what monster or character from SPN/BtVS/Angel:the Series you would like to see in an upcoming chapter, that would be lovely. Second, major cookies to anyone who can guess what song the title of this chapter is taken from. Third, I put together a Sync-themed playlist on spotify. You can find it by looking up either 'authoressinhiding' or 'Synchronicity'.
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: May 3, 2008 at 11:30 p.m.
Subject: none
You didn't call last night. Trying to keep my head on here. I want to call you, but I don't want you not to pick up. Call me, Dean. Please.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: May 9, 2008 at 3:00 a.m.
Subject: none
Finally got a hold of Sam. Funeral's already over, he says. No point in flying over there. What do I . . . how do I . . . F-ck. I didn't even tell you goodbye.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: May 15, 2008 at 12:00 p.m.
Subject: Sam
So your little brother told me to quit calling your old phones unless I've got a solution to bring you back. He doesn't want to hear from me. He wouldn't even listen when I tried to tell him about the Mayor. That's right. I summoned a demon to help me find a way to bust you out. You'd be so pissed right now.
Got so frustrated I almost yelled at Sam. Doesn't he realize that he's not the only one who . . . Never mind.
I need a drink.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: May 19, 2008 at 11:30 a.m
Subject: RE: Sam
Angel keeps staring at me weird. I dunno why. Not like I'm drunk or anything. Takes more than a fifth of whiskey to make me drunk. I'm the g-ddamn Slayer.
It's all for science, anyway. I'm conducting a research experiment – how much alcohol does it take for this hole in my chest to go away?
So far, no luck.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: June 2, 2008 at 9:00 a.m.
Subject: Sorry it's been a while
Holy sh-t. I haven't been this hungover in my entire damn life. I didn't even know I could get this hungover.
According to Andrew, I've been living off of whiskey and vodka for the last month. Stupid Andrew. He blew off his squad in Tokyo to come babysit me, and he can't even pay attention. I haven't touched vodka since before prison. I don't like the memories.
Hang on a sec . . . oh, crap. There are vodka bottles in my trash can. Oh no. Oh no.
I guess I needed those drinks more than I thought.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: June 17, 2008 at 10:00 p.m.
Subject: AA for Slayers
We're officially two weeks into the Dry-Faith-Out campaign. Forced upon yours truly by the combined efforts of Becka, Lily, Robin, Spike, Andrew, and Angel. They all ganged up on me and staged a transatlantic intervention over Skype.
It was freaking awkward. They wouldn't stop looking at me with wounded eyes until I promised I'd quit. Andrew made a sketch pad presentation and designed my own steps. You'd have gotten a kick out of it.
Talked to the Mayor last night. He's been having trouble getting in to the right Judeo-Christian Hell dimension. Says it's nearly impregnable. Apparently when Buffy killed magic, she buggered up all the back doors.
Gave in and called your phone again. It didn't even go to voicemail – said it had been disconnected. What's your little brother up to?
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: June 22, 2008 at 8:45 p.m.
Subject: RE: AA for Slayers
I tell you Andrew's steps to this?
1. Acknowledge you have a problem.
2. Replace alcohol with water. And actual food.
3. If you smoke more than two cigarettes a day, Andrew will wake you up by singing the themes to various telenovelas for a week.
Those're all the ones I can remember, anyway. I didn't tell them, but I got my own set of steps:
1. Take Advil
2. Call Willow
3. Resurrect Dean.
The Mayor's coming up blank, so I'm reaching out to new ideas. I'm sorry it's taken me seven weeks to act on my promise. And there's not an excuse in the world that would be good enough. I said I'd get you out. And I will.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: June 29, 2008 at 11:30 p.m.
Subject: none
Called Willow. She's a little gun-shy from her last resurrection party, and a bit less power hungry than she used to be. She might be able to do it, but she isn't sure it's a good idea. Damn her eyes.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: July 1, 2008 at 7:15 a.m.
Subject: Good news!
Red says if I can prove to her satisfaction that you're in Hell, not Heaven, she'll help. Guess she's in no hurry to repeat what happened with Buffy. I told her you signed a deal with a crossroads demon, but she calls that hearsay.
Even now, she's still too much of a stickler for rules – unless it benefits her. But hey – it's a step forward, and I've already read every available occult book in London. And my brightest ideas would probably just bring you back as a zombie.
Zombie Dean isn't exactly what we're looking for.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: July 2, 2008 at 5:00 p.m.
Subject: RE: Good news!
Sam still isn't taking my calls. I had an idea – summoning a crossroads demon tonight. First time – I don't count the Mayor.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: July 3, 2008 at 9:00 p.m.
Subject: That blew
That demon was a total prick. Accent somewhere between Giles and Spike, only a few inches taller than me, too much sideburns. Dark hair, red eyes, awful breath.
I had a camera set up – Andrew filming from around the corner, so I've got video proof that you're in hell. Damn demon admitted it. Told me all sorts of awful stuff. Don't know if any of it's true. Hope it isn't, but it probably is.
Hold on, Dean.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: July 10, 2008 at 6:30 p.m.
Subject: Sh-t
Sh-t. Sh-t. Sh-t. Sh-t. Willow came over, and we tried the ritual last night. You'd have shot us on sight if you saw us – had to kill a deer, we got drenched in blood – just a regular evening for a couple of satanists. Good thing the police didn't get there until five minutes after we left.
We tried the damn ritual, and it didn't work. That yanked on Little Miss Magic's chain. Been a while since she couldn't get it up. She wants to try again tonight.
I dunno. I'm starting to run out of ideas.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: July 21, 2008 at 11:27 p.m.
Subject: Crap. Again.
Resurrection Redux didn't work. Obviously. If it had, I wouldn't be sending emails to an abandoned account. I'd be with you.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: July 21, 2008 at 11:40 p.m.
Subject: RE: Crap. Again.
Not like that. Get your mind out of the soap operas.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: July 21, 2008 at 11:55 p.m.
Subject: RE: RE: Crap. Again.
Or is it my mind that's stuck in a soap opera? Andrew keeps talking about epic love stories – he never stops – and he doesn't seem to get that, well . . . forget it.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: August 7, 2008 at 7:15 a.m.
Subject: We've got a plan
Willow's in on this now. She's tried five different rituals in the last four days. She says something's fighting her. She can't break through, whatever it is. But she says she has a few more ideas.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: August 24, 2008 at 8:55 p.m.
Subject: Plans suck
Willow's out of ideas. Last time she tried, something pushed back, and she's had a reaction headache for three days. Ended up taking her to the hospital, it got so bad.
Don't worry. I'm not giving up. I'll just hit the books again while Willow's getting better.
I made you a promise. And I'm gonna keep it.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: September 1, 2008, at 6:30 a.m.
Subject: Hell-bound
Hey. A lot's happened in the last week. Angel's swayed Willow into the resurrect-Giles camp, with the promises of helping her get into another demon dimension to access her precious magic. I got so pissed that I threw a bottle of wine at their heads – which did not end well.
I can't believe Red. Doesn't she get how important this is? Yeah, you're both dead, but Giles is probably in Heaven or something. We have video testimony from a crossroads demon that you're getting ripped up into kibbles and bits, like that Prometheus guy.
No one listened to me. Don't know why the hell I even tried. Although maybe throwing glass was a bad idea.
So guess who gets to go to a frakked up place called Quor'Toth, with Angel's seriously annoying twenty-something son?
Yep, that's right. Me. I'm still so angry it's like the entire world is colored with blood. My fingers are frakking shaking as I'm typing. I just . . . .
Sorry about that. I locked myself in the bathroom and took an ice-cold shower. Less shaking now. Less urge to vomit. Still want to hit things. Hard. Until my knuckles bleed.
G-ddamn it all to frakking hell. This is not what's supposed to happen.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: September 2, 2008, at 3:15 a.m.
Subject: RE: Hell-bound
Went patrolling earlier tonight. Got into a bit of a tumble with a nest of vampires who've been hanging out near the London Eye. Pretty sure I can never wear these jeans again, and I might have pulled something in my lower back – I know, I'm getting old.
Still, one of me, five of them, and they were all dust in fifteen minutes. Not too bad for an old lady.
Angel and Willow were still out when I got home, so I summoned the Mayor. Just for a quick ten-minute chat. He says hi, by the way. But better, he says that in Quor'Toth, the walls between Hell dimensions might be easier to break through. Asked me to summon him there, and we'll see if it's doable.
It's looking up again. I'm packing heavy – rosaries, holy water, silver – all the classics. Guess I might be getting to Hell sooner than I thought.
. . . .
From: FyreCracker5x5
To: ZepHead_79
Date: September 14, 2008, at 8:54 p.m.
Subject: Quor'Toth
. . . was a total waste of time. Walls were too thick for a battering ram to get through, let alone a Slayer-sized punch.
I don't know what's wrong with me. I should be excited about Giles – we're one step closer to getting him back. But all I can think about is how I've failed you.
I'm so sorry, Dean. So damn, damn sorry.
I just wish sorry was enough.
. . . . .
