It wasn't quite dark yet. The sun had set, but it was still in those early twilight hours where the light wasn't quite gone, and the moon hadn't quite risen. Despite that, the graveyard was filled with people.
Well, vampires.
Belegant and The Hood had managed to garner quite the following in the last month or so. It really was what had tipped off the Council to their actions, after all. That, and the fact that it was coming up on Apocalypse season to begin with.
Virgil didn't think he'd ever get his brain to accept the idea of an annual season for the end of the world.
The Alpha team swept through the cemetery, heading for the mausoleum that they were sure the ritual was supposed to be taking place in. The mausoleum had never been explored before, but it was rumored to be the entrance to a small set of catacombs beneath that corner of the cemetery. Frankly, it didn't make much sense to Virgil, or Alan, but they were just going to trust the experts on this one.
The expert vampire and demon killers.
Yeesh.
They really, really just wanted to go home.
The Alpha team swept through the cemetery with battle cries, dusting vampires and skewering demons as they went. The Beta team ducked through behind them, skirting the obstacles and aiming only for the mausoleum, keeping the two Tracy brothers in the center of the pack. Alan made sure not to look at the chaos around him, the flying limbs and exploding people making his stomach roll. He wasn't cut out for this type of action; give him a rescue any day.
Two of the Slayers broke through the door of the mausoleum, crumbling stone like it was nothing, and the entire Beta team slipped inside. They had seconds to assess the situation, the Slayers immediately heading for the non-human entities in the room. Alan threw himself at The Hood, knocking a little Alan from his arms, the kid sobbing in fright and likely pain.
The witch with the team, a goth girl named Kit, threw up her arms and a wavering shield forming around the alter in the center of the tomb, where a teenage Gordon was strapped, unconscious and bleeding. The ritual circle drawn in some sort of chalk around the alter was broken and the candles winked out, the flames blown out by the breeze of the ongoing fighting.
The Hood scrambled to his feet while Alan was distracted with little-Alan and took off down a descending tunnel, Virgil quick to follow.
Alan passed Little-Alan off to Xander, who had followed them into the mausoleum. A quick check on Gordon confirmed that he teen was still alive, if not in the best shape, and he decided to leave him in the capable hands of Kit, who was quickly getting him ready for transport back to the Council Schoolhouse with Little-Alan.
Virgil, for his part, followed The Hood and Belegant, who was clearly possessing the man from the way his eyes were glowing red, into the catacombs. He tackled the villain around the knees the moment they rounded into a different tomb, driving the two of them into the ground. A startled yell from behind them caused Virgil to glance that way for a split second, taking in the room before he had to focus on the demon-driven man he was wrestling for control.
Scott and John hung from chains on the stone walls, beaten and battered but mostly intact. John looked near unconsciousness, breathing heavy, his gaze distant. On the floor, in the middle of a second ritual circle, a younger version of himself lay curled, completely unconscious and clearly having undergone some form of torture while in the hands of The Hood. Because of course the man was paranoid enough to have a second circle set up, just in case.
All three brothers were dirty and bloodstained. John was paler than Virgil had ever seen him, even after a three-month rotation in space. Scott was shaky and startled and the look in his eye was heartbreaking. Younger-Virgil was shirtless, his back a mess of bloody whip-marks, and Virgil just knew that he'd been used to break his older brothers, because nothing would torment them more than to have their little brother tortured in front of them. Alan and Gordon were, from what little he'd been able to see in the chaos, in much better shape than these three, that was for sure.
Virgil was a little startled by how similar these younger versions of his family looked to his own, back in their own world. They looked nearly identical to how he and his brothers had looked seven or so years ago. It was a little unsettling, but Virgil didn't have time to ponder on it, as The Hood gained the advantage in the wrestling. Despite being a heavy-lifter and more than capable of holding his own, Virgil was up against someone enhanced by demon strength.
The Hood twisted, rolling the two of them into the ritual circle next to younger-Virgil, who didn't even flinch. Virgil tensed his not inconsiderable amount of muscle and shoved his feet into The Hood/Belegant's chest, knocking him off. He rolled into a crouch, knife in hand, brown eyes narrowed. Scott whispered his name behind him, but Virgil didn't move, his casted arm bracing him against the ground, his back tense and ready for the demon's next move.
Hood/Belegant snarled and pounced forward, slamming into Virgil with demon-augmented force. A knee smashed into his bad thigh, and he toppled with a cry, falling against younger-Virgil. Scott cried out behind him, and John made a soft noise as well.
"Doesn't matter which I kill," Belegant said, leering down at him as he tried to twist out of the demon's hold. Hood/Belegant's hand gripped Virgil's throat and his eyes flared red. "A Tracy is a Tracy, after all." Virgil arched, screaming as that same rifling power he'd encountered with the first world's Hood ripped through his mind. "Older and wiser but still the same scars," Belegant crowed, claw like fingers trailing across Virgil's scarred wrist.
John cried out behind them, slumping against the wall, caught up in the backlash of power and mind-rape. Virgil snarled, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to twist away from that blasted mind-power. Belegant laughed, raising a clawed hand above Virgil's heart, still pinning the man by his throat, one knee against Virgil's chest.
Alan screamed his name from the entrance of the room. Younger-Virgil was tensing beneath him.
"Moonrise!" a voice called out amidst the screaming and clattering of the fights happening in the tomb behind them.
Virgil shoved a knee into Belegant/Hood's gut at the same time he twisted and plunged his knife into the man's chest. At that same moment, two resin-hardened claws slashed through the demon-possessed man's throat from behind, ripping through flesh with nary a hesitation.
The man gargled, blinking in shock as the red faded from his eyes. He toppled sideways, off Virgil and out of the ritual circle.
Virgil gasped in a breath as the grip around his throat fell away, reflexively pulling his knife from the man at the same time and rolling off his counterpart. He could hear Alan retching somewhere nearby, but his focus was drawn to younger-Virgil, who was now writhing in the circle.
"Wolf," John gasped from where he hung, green eyes barely visible behind dirty ginger hair.
Someone swore. "Werewolf!" They called up the tunnel. "Someone get Xander down here!" There were scrambling sounds happening, but Virgil's head felt as though it was splitting in half and younger-Virgil wasn't really helping with the screaming he was doing. They hadn't been told much about werewolves, as they hadn't been expecting to encounter one, full moon or not.
They did know, however, that it took literal years to control the beast. Xander's friend Oz was capable of changing at will now, and into a full wolf, but it had taken nearly a decade for him to be able to achieve that level of control.
They didn't have years.
This tomb was too small, and too crowded for what was likely a new wolf. John and Scott still hung from the walls, the Slayers staying back for the moment, despite the entrance becoming a little crowded. Alan had been pulled away from the circle, where Virgil still lay, trying to catch his breath. Later, Alan would tell Virgil how the two of them, he and younger-Virgil had nearly mirrored each other in that circle, a ying-yang of older and younger juxtaposed against each other.
Alan would say how, if they both hadn't been so dirty and bloodstained, it would have made an interesting art piece.
He then would say how they both needed therapy for that one.
"Alan" Virgil rasped, finally calming the pounding in his head enough to get a grasp of what was happening.
"Not going anywhere, bro," Alan replied, his voice a little faint.
Virgil looked up, meeting the wide blue eyes of a younger Scott that looked so similar to his own that it almost hurt. Younger, yes, but still…he glanced down at younger-Virgil, twisting and writhing in front of him, and was met with a massive muzzle of a full-blown wolf.
This wasn't the weird half-man, half-wolf gorilla creature they'd been briefly told about. No, this was a massive black wolf with wild, scared brown eyes. It snarled and Virgil flinched back a bit. "Hey, no," he whispered, reaching out a hand. "Virgil, need you to listen to me buddy," he said, automatically falling into rescue-mode. "Your brothers are in this room; innocents are in this room. You need to calm down."
The wolf fell back a bit, glancing around, swinging its large head over to look straight at Scott. Crouched as it was, Virgil couldn't tell just how big the wolf was, but he could guess that it would easily come up to his ribs at least. Younger-Virgil had just as much muscle and build as he had had at age eighteen, after all. Scott held that gaze for a long moment, pale and tired and completely ignoring the young teenage girl that had skirted around them to fiddle with the chains holding him to the wall. After a moment's pause, Virgil-the-Wolf gave a shuddering sigh and settled back down, lying on the ground and falling still. Brown eyes watched, half-lidded, as the room suddenly filled with Slayers and auxiliary troops, Xander and Buffy at the forefront.
"Good doggy," Virgil murmured, slumping back to the ground and resting his head against his arm.
"Don't be condescending," Alan retorted, slinking forward and placing a hand against Virgil's shoulder with a look to the wolf. Wolf-Virgil eyed him curiously but didn't move. "Especially to yourself. You okay?"
"Fine, peachy, dandy," Virgil muttered, wincing at the pain in his head.
"Cool, I'm not," Alan said, his voice just shy of wobbling. "So just stay there for a moment."
Virgil rolled his head to the side just enough to eye his little brother, frowning. Alan's face was splattered with blood, much like his own, but it all belonged to The Hood. He didn't look injured, just pale and shaky. Alan caught the look and frowned back at him. "You're exhausting, Mozart," he muttered. "I swear, everything bad in these worlds are out to get you."
"Pretty sure the dinos were out to get us both," Virgil whispered. The wolf huffed and Virgil glanced at him with a quirky smile. Scott, free of the wall, stumbled over to the three in the circle, nearly falling against his canine-brother.
"Gordon and Allie?" he asked, his voice breaking and causing him to cough. "The Hood…he hit Gordy with a car…" Alan and Virgil froze, exchanging looks. In their own world, Gordon had been sixteen when his accident with WASP had occurred. The same had been in the first world, with their alternate family. In the last world, Gordon had been in the car accident that had killed their father, according to the research that Tony had managed to do.
Gordon breaking his back and ending up paralyzed seemed to be a constant through all the worlds.
"They've been transported to the Council house," Alan answered with a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Scott, with wide eyes, studied the two of them, his hands fisting in his brother's fur. Wolf-Virgil gave a soft whine and Scott relaxed his grip just a little. Scott could obviously see the resemblance to his own brothers. "Are you…?"
"No," Alan said, his smile still in place. "Not really. We're not from the future, just a different world."
"Hi! Hello!" Willow said, crouching next to all of them with an exuberant wave. "I'm Willow, I'm with the Council!" Scott nodded. He knew who the Council was; any Hunter worth their salt knew who the Council were, and the changes they'd undertaken in the past couple years. "I have to ask," Willow continued, pointing at Wolf-Virgil. "How long has he been a wolf? Because his control is spectacular."
Scott frowned at her, one hand reaching up to wipe old blood from his cheek. "He's never been a wolf," he rasped.
Willow paused, her jaw dropping a little as she looked down at the wolf who just stared back at her. She the looked over at Virgil, who just shrugged. "Okay, okay, sure," she muttered, biting her lip. "Alright. Moving on. Are you okay with coming back to the Council House with us?" Scott gave a nod and she grinned. "Good." She patted both Alan and Virgil on the shoulder and got back to her feet.
Chaos erupted again as everyone was suddenly moving. The Alpha team was sweeping through the tomb and cemetery, making sure they'd gotten the last of the baddies. Apparently, the death of The Hood/Belegant had had some effect on the Hellmouth and there'd been a sketchy moment with a Hellbeast, whatever that was. But it was all closed up now and everything was fine.
They made it back to the Council House in one piece, with Virgil being whisked off to the medical rooms with their counterpart family, since the Council happened to have things to help with mind-power induced headaches. Alan found himself on the front porch, still dirty, still a little shell-shocked and a lot tired.
He slumped, sitting on the step, much in the same manner he had been earlier in the day. "First time?" Faith asked, sitting down next to him. She glanced at the shiny scales of HEMERA, the claws retracted. The scales seemed to repel any blood or grime from getting on them, remaining that shiny, gunmetal silver. Five of the six lights were glowing green.
"What? Killing someone?" Alan asked, shooting her a disparaging look. She shot him a sad grin, and he sighed, turning away and staring out into the dark yard. "Did I do the right thing?"
Faith hummed, glancing back at Xander, who was standing in the doorway behind them. "Sometimes," she murmured, leaning over to bump shoulders with Alan. "Sometimes, what's needed isn't good and isn't right, it's just necessary." She paused for a moment, watching the dark with him. "You saved the world."
"He was going to kill my brother," Alan muttered. He didn't know if it was better or worse that he'd been more concerned about Virgil than the state of that entire world at that moment.
Xander hummed, coming forward to lean against the railing next to Alan. "He was," he said with a sigh. "We think, according to what we saw, that Belegant was going to use Gordon as the initial ritual sacrifice. The reason this world's Virgil was unchained was because Belegant was hoping that he'd rip his older brothers apart with the trauma of his first changing at the same time the ritual was taking place in the other room, thus lending power to the ritual itself."
Alan snorted. "Clearly he underestimated Virgil's ability to control himself."
"I'm pretty sure everyone underestimated that," Faith shrugged. "Werewolves aren't really known for their control, and this is coming from people who deal with Oz on a steady basis."
"And Oz is about as zen as you can get," Xander commented. He nudged Alan with his toe. "You wanna get cleaned up, kiddo?" he asked, scratching at the skin under his eyepatch. He was looking rather dusty, all told, with a few scrapes and bruises as evidence to his own part in this fiasco. Aside from some dust, Faith was looking just as put together as she had beforehand.
Alan sighed and then shrugged. Inside the house, the noise of the "We-Survived-The-Apocalypse-Again" party was starting up. And, honestly, Alan thought he could do with a distraction from his own brain at the moment.