Duncan twisted and turned in his bed. Methos Quickening has left a while
ago.
It still wasn't back.
Good.
He got up and stared into the darkness. He couldn't stay in the bed
anymore. Even now he could smell the stench. As he opened the curtains he
could see the sun fade into red. The shadow on his hands reminded him once
again. The cruelty those hands had done. The horrors. Starting with Richie and
ending ...
Oh God what had he done? How could anyone live with this? Methos had refused
to take his head, again.
Was he so filthy, so evil that even the former Horseman didn't want him inside
of him.
His evil, his madness. The Highlander stared at his reflection in the window.
'How can I possibly go on.
How do they expect me too just pick up life as if nothings out of the
ordinary. I can't. Not now'
He opened the door. It made a little noise, squeaking softly. He stared around
the corner, checking if anyone was there. There wasn't. Most people seemed to
have gone. The other immortals, the kid, the girls. He'd seen them all. They'd
been watching him. He'd stared past them, but he'd known they were there.
It was good they were gone. He didn't think he could stand to be amongst
people now. Their compassionate fronts hiding their disgust. Or was it his own
feelings that were reflected in their eyes.
There were two men talking in the kitchen. The Highlander ignored them on
his way to the bathroom. He stared into the mirror. Was that truly his face?
He felt dirty, violated. The demon had loved to do the very things he knew
Duncan hated. The more he remembered them, the filthier he felt. Men, women,
children. None had been safe. He felt a presence entering his sensing range.
He didn't know why, but for some reason, he was sure it wasn't Methos. He kept
rubbing himself nearly till bleeding. The feeling of dirt, of blood, it
wouldn't go away. Not this time.
"It won't help."
The voice sounded young. He didn't turn to it. He could see his reflection in
the mirror though. The monster Loki, hiding behind an innocent face.
"You would know." was all he finally said. His voice carrying his
disbelief. How could this guy understand.
A hand grabbed hold of his bare shoulder, forcing him around. "Pal, I
killed thousands of people. Hundreds of thousands. Men, women, children. It
didn't matter. Anyone that had the misfortune of being in my path. I tortured,
raped and abused for no reason, but a rush of a Quickening at the end. I was
so addicted to it, that I even killed people that I'd loved for millennia. So
don't tell me I don't know what I'm talking about. And you know MacLeod. I
couldn't even blame my madness on a demon. It was all me."
MacLeod was in doubt. His heart raged between a righteous anger and the
knowledge that he of all people no longer held the right to judge. Not any
more. "Methos saved me from that. He left the Horsemen to stop me."
the boy smiled a bit wryly. "Well that and because he got bored out of
his mind with them."
The boys chuckle filled the small room. "Anyway MacLeod. I know exactly
what it feels like. You're so disgusted with yourself that you don't think you
can go on, that the merest idea of a memory makes you hate yourself for what
you've done. But it will pass. There will be a day that you will be able to
look in the mirror again and see just you. You can no longer be whom you were,
but you can learn to live with who you are now. I promise."
"He's right you know." Neither of the two immortals had noticed the
vampire opening the door. Looking at them, listening. "You can't let
Ahriman destroy you. No matter what your body did. It wasn't you."
Duncan wanted to lash out at them. To force them away, to forget their words
and go back into the pit of despair. It had been comforting in a way. But he
knew he couldn't. He didn't even noticed the dark haired mans lack of a
reflection.
*******
Spike was pouring the bottle into his cup. His mother had just brought him
a package. A six-pack straight from Toronto. Six bottles of pure human blood.
The finest of his uncle Lucius' stock. He got ready to really enjoy it. Lucien
LaCroix always got the best. The Weetabix mixed nicely with the blood. He
whistled a bit as he took his bowl to the TV-set and sat down for his favorite
soap.
What? Yes vampires, at least some of them, watched soap. You had to do
something to keep from going crazy during daytime.
"Oh come on you bloody moron. Get some sense into that head of
yours."
"Poor Spikey, won't the evil TV-people do what you want them too?"
Buffy sat down at the diner table. She was sharpening some stakes.
"Have you seen Cordelia?"
"Nope, ain't seen her, heard her or ate her since she arrived."
Spike wasn't sure but he could hear her mutter something that vaguely sounded
like ... 'to bad'. He could be wrong of course.
"So what's the problem? I thought you'd be hanging around the big poof.
The Irish one."
"I ... I don't know what to say to him. I love him ... As much as ever,
but this close after losing Riley... It wouldn't be right. Besides It'd only
put me up for more heart ache when at the end we have to say our goodbyes
again. As it always is. She cut another slice of wood. "Me and
men,." the slice rolled up a bit.
"I never seem to just luck out you know. Never ever. It's almost as if
I'm the one that's cursed."
"Oh come on. It can't be that bad."
"Oh no?" She tapped the severely diminished head of the stake on the
table.
"First Pike. Him and me against the vampires. Or so he said.
He left me without a word." She tapped the table again.
"Owen ..." she sighed. "All he wanted was some adventure. I
couldn't risk it." Another tap.
"And then there's Angel." Silence breaks out after that name.
"Do you know what it felt like, having to fight him. His going
evil."
She held the stake in both hands. Her knife taking of another slice of
wood.
"I loved him so much. And there was nothing I could do. Nothing ..."
the stake broke as it hit the table.
"I tried to deal, to date other guys. It just ... it didn't work. It had
no use. I couldn't get over him."
Spike put his blood on the table. Unsure what to do. Remembering his own
feelings as Drusilla was swooning over Angelus. His love for her. How he had
to leave her when she said she'd never lived for him. That all his dreams had
been nothing but that, pretty dreams.
His tries with Harmony, the joke that that had been. He'd never loved the
dimwit, he just hadn't wanted to be alone.
"And then he came back and I was dating Scott. More as a 'Get back on
the horse' -kinda thing than anything else. I know now how unfair it was to
him. I still wanted Angel. Even when I said I couldn't be with him, that I was
with Scott now, my heart still belonged to Angel."
"The bloody poof does have that effect on people, doesn't he?"
"Like Drusilla?"
Spike chuckled a bit. She didn't know the half of it.
"Yep sure, like her."
"And then he told me he had to leave. That we couldn't be together any
more. It was too dangerous. It was as if I died."
Giles sat back in his chair, enjoying for the moment his chance to use his favorite piece of furniture in the house. With the kids constantly running around. He barely had any chance at just normal, calm, relaxing .... Then Cordelia came in and placed herself at the table, loudly claiming her anger at Angel for staying around Buffy. The young stranger listening to her seemed to just let it pass. Giles wondered where he could get those kind of earplugs.
He wondered how he could ever have forgotten the blabbermouth that was
Cordelia Chase. Then he remembered Anya and thanked God that he only had to
deal with Cordelia this time.
At least she had some use to her group, being their link to the Powers that
be. Compared to a certain former vengeance demon.
God knew what he had to put up with that woman, ... he grumbled a bit and kept staring at Cordelia. No matter how much he thought about it, it was still hard to grasp. If Angel were to be believed, Cordelia was a totally different person from the self concerned girl they'd known before. He'd halfway expect her to ask him for a cure for the visions. She hadn't. It seemed he'd underestimated her, maybe they all had.
The Watcher got up and poured himself some tea, adding a bit of brandy to
the mix.
He offered some to Cordelia and the young gentleman, what was his name? Gunn?
Cordelia finally shut up, and Giles almost wished she started talking again.
The silence that grew between them, seemed almost unnatural. Only when Wesley
stepped into the room, did the silence break.
His arms were loaded with books. The younger man set them down on the
table, reset his glasses and nodded slightly.
"These should do for the time being. Thank you mister Giles."
Giles just nodded and cringed as he saw the titles.
"I will of course bring them back at the earliest possible
opportunity."
Giles just grumped. Giving his books a worried glance, almost ready to grab
them back and make a break for it. He shivered, fearing he'd never see them
again.
"Of course."
He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped of his glasses.
Wesley just sat down, a way to serious look in his eyes.
"I could not believe I had not heard of the prophecy before. It is truly
quite fascinating."
He looked almost in awe.
"And its source. The legendary Lilith herself."
Wesley looked down as he reset the glasses.
|
In the end times, |
|
And the Child shall be loved |
|
And the Child shall be abandoned |
|
And the Child shall be alone |
|
But as the child finds the warrior it shall regain love |
|
Once shall it regain love, twice shall it regain love |
|
And the Child shall face death, and it shall face darkness |
|
And the Child shall be hope |
|
And the Child shall be light |
|
And as it walks through the valleys of death it shall not be touched |
|
It shall not loose its purity. |
|
It shall not loose its love |
|
And through its love it shall be redeemed |
|
Once shall it die, |
|
And the darkness shall come and protect the light |
|
And the Child shall find its mother |
|
Once was it loved, |
|
And he shall be one, |
|
And he shall be two, |
|
And he shall be three, |
|
And all three shall be one and as such he shall be four. |
|
And those who are death yet walk, For as his name, |
|
And all who gather shall die but two |
|
Two shall remain, one of light, one of darkness. |
|
And in it roam two paths, |
|
one of hope, one of despair |
|
And the Child of Purity shall unite them all |
|
No demon shall roam to harm, |
|
no sickness shall plague mortal kind |
|
And death shall be the beginning |
|
So has it been said, |
He turned the words that the younger Watcher had recited over and over in
his head. It made something in the back of his mind itch, as though something
about it was familiar.
He thought about it further, remembering what he knew about certain
supernatural beings in their world. And it struck him. "Oh...
shit..."
He went ghostly pale.
Wesley nearly dropped the book as he saw the look on the older watchers face.
"Methos ... he knew about this."
Giles got up, and started going up to his bookcase.
"The damn immortal bastard knew and he still left. No wonder he took
Xander with him."
Wesley stared at him, completely not understanding what was so important about
that.
"The boy he went for, you remember the call. The new saint ... a holy
man" he corrected himself. "A holy child."
He paced with the book, after pulling it from Wesley's hands.
"And those who are death yet walk,
those who are death yet speak,
those who are death yet live...
shall fear his touch.
For as his name,
as his life,
as his light is holy,
so is his touch
He knew exactly who he was looking for and he believes it, every word of
it."
"The coming messiah." Wesley whispered.
"Get the others together," Giles said softly.
Wesley was still trying to overcome his shock.
"The savior foretold in every religion on earth. An American boy named
Richie. Even TV wouldn't assume this."
Neither of them noticed Duncan in the back, listening to their every word.
He shook his head slightly. "And even if it did, the writer would have to
have a very twisted mind."
"God don't give them any ideas."
Giles smiled faintly.
"What can we do?"
Wesley really didn't have an idea. He was too baffled to do anything.
"We should probably get the rest of the group together, and see about
finding more of the prophecy."
"Why?" Cordelia interfered. "I don't understand. What more do
we need? We got Jesus Christ coming back right? Shouldn't we just be happy and
rejoice and prepare for the coming Armageddon?"
She turned to Gunn. "Do you think it would help if I started going to
church?"
"Jesus Christ pales in comparison, Cordelia."
"Yes." Wesley reset his glasses. "This is not just some teacher
Cordelia. It is the King of Kings. If this ... prophecy comes to pass ... we
could end up either living heaven on earth, or the bleakest hell that even
demons can't imagine."
Cordy paled a bit under her perfect tan.
"This Child of Purity ... will have the power to alter reality, in a way,
that is beyond human comprehension."
"But if he loses ..."
Wesley didn't dare continue the sentence.
She paled further, and swallowed loudly, feeling a little sick to her stomach
all of a sudden.
"But he's on our side right?"
"If he weren't, he wouldn't be called the Child of Purity, right?"
Gunn offered.
"Not necessarily."
Duncan rested his back against the wall. He was starting to get an idea to
wild to imagine. An idea that couldn't be real. Richie, alive?
"All evidence in this portion of the prophecy, however, suggests that he's on our side. Or, at least, on whatever side the Powers that Be have put him on."
Wesley took on his formal voice.
"And that is why we need the rest of the prophecy. We need to be certain.
If we are to offer our aid to him, we need to know who we are helping."
"Which means we're going to go find the rest of the pieces. Prophecies are often several books long, and it may take us a while to find all the books." Giles held a finger up. "Which is why we should get Buffy and Spike and the others and set to work. We may only have a small amount of time to make our choice."
Temlan held his wife in his arms. Carrying her weight was a pleasure he was
happy to take as her cheek rested against his naked chest.
He let his fingers play through her curls and leaned back in his pillow. It
came up over his ears, nearly dampening the sound of the phone. He ignored the
sound and just layed back, refusing to wake Lilin from her sleep.
She looked so innocent.
He whispered sweet nothings in her ear and she moaned softly as the warm
breath hit her eardrums.
She was so familiar, so much a part of him. How could he ever lose her? But
as the Game approached the Gathering, the chance of losing her came ever
closer.
Would he ever have to take her head, to slit that perfect neck of hers. Or
would he be able to let lay down his sword and let her take his. He didn't
think so, yet...
Why couldn't it just be a myth?
Maybe it was. Maybe the prophecies weren't real and things never need to
change.
Lilin, Methos.
In the end he'd rather take their Quickenings himself than to let a stranger
do it.
Maybe he should just get it over with, do it now.
He kept brushing through her curls.
Prevent the pain, close himself of from everything and finish the Gathering.
Making sure the few people he actually still cared about had nothing but happy
memories.
To make their endings swift, painless. Acts of love.
He closed his eyes, wondering what it would be like to have them both
inside his head, their thoughts, their souls,... He brushed his lips past her
neck, tasting it, touching out for the Quickening inside of her.
"Mi chikir. My love."
She leaned in closer, unconsciously trying to join with him already.
It would be so much, so sweet, to be one in body as well as in mind.
He caressed her skin, holding her close.
To be one.
Maybe
He fell asleep, ignoring the telephone that was ringing again.
******
The horn slammed down hard.
Giles nodded a slow no, as to the others silent question.
"So that leaves just us."
Buffy overlooked the people in the room.
Willow and Tara who held hands on Giles couch. Angel who was trying
desperately not to stare at either Buffy who sat on the low table or Spike who
sat on the ground at her feet. The vampire was grinning at his grandsires
unease.
Cordelia and Gunn stopped their chat and looked up as well, while Wesley stood
next to Giles near the phone.
"Can I help?"
They all stared up at Duncan. The Highlander had cleaned himself up for the
first time in days. His pose was hesitant and his voice slightly shaking,
almost unsure about his welcome.
Buffy just threw him a book.
"Join up. We got us some reading to do."
******
Cordelia kept loosing her page, just staring at Spike, ... helping.
What the hell was the vampire planning up? He'd tried to kill them, several
times. So why did everyone just accept him, not just his presence, but his
help as well?
She really was no longer used to this. The reading hurt her eyes.
She stared up at Willow and Tara who were whispering as they were both going
through some of the bigger books in Giles collection. Then she looked at the
laptop that Willow was 'so' not using.
She shuffled out of her seat and tried to remember some of the best and
most of all, real, websites on demonology and prophecies.
Willow noticed, but though slightly surprised, she didn't object.
Angel just gave her one of his killer grins.
One of those, I'm proud of you little sister grins. It made her glow a bit,
knowing she was doing the right thing.
*****
"Xander, get us some donuts."
Giles barely held in the words, to used to them and remembering barely in time
that one, Xander wasn't here and two, even if he had been here, his Atlantean
memories were to important to waste on a donut run.
He inched away a bit as the Highlander came back with another of his books.
Shivering slightly at the immortals presence, though glad that the man knew
several languages he wasn't really fluent in himself.
The former watcher could barely believe that Cordelia was actually being
useful. Searching through religious databases, to find references to the
prophecy. So far they'd had thousands of matches.
The hard part would be to separate the useful from the nonsense. All those
online games did not exactly make things easier. Especially since so many of
them centered around fantasy words, based on prophecies.
"Gunn, go get us some donuts."
The young black man seemed almost relieved to get away when Wesley gave him
the order.
"Don't forget Jelly donuts. Giles called after him, before the others
started yelling their orders. He hoped the poor boy wouldn't mix it up. He was
so in the mood for a jelly donut with chocolate sprinkles. Xander at least
knew everyones favorites.
Spike stretched out, moaning a bit.
Giles wondered when the vampire had become a part of the group. Was it when
his mother started reminding him to wear new clothes every once and awhile?
When Xander and him got into a long talk about the disadvantages of still
living with your parents?
Maybe it was that talk he overheard between the two of them when Xander
mentioned that he feared for his father at times after Spike was moaning about
Temlan threatening him.
No, it had to be that day when Spike just showed up. No nefarious reasons,
no need for money or blood, he just showed up with a box of everyone's
favorite donuts as if to say he'd noticed.
Whenever it was, he'd gotten so much a Scooby that no one was surprised when
he got up to the fridge and pulled out a package of blood.
Angel noticed, but said nothing when Spike offered him a cup.
It was cow of course.
Spike would never share his supply of human blood with his grandsire.
And the blood was cold, where Spike had heated his own in the microwave, but
other than that ... Spike was being perfectly polite ... for Spike.
*****
When had he turned in a soddin Scooby?
Spike looked at the book in his hands and wondered when he had lost control of
his own life.
If you'd told him two years ago, that he'd end up at the slayers feet, playing
her soddin pet, helping her ... he'd have killed you for it. Well he would
have done so anyway, but you get the idea.
Now ... he was happy with it?
What kind of a demon was he?
He stared at the book again.
"And through darkness, the lamb shall be taken.
It shall feed on the darkness, yet darkness shall not fill it."
Feed, to feed, food ...
Hungry.
He took a sip from his blood, it was just not the same.
The human blood his uncle Lucius sent was a little better, but not by much. It
missed something.
It wasn't just the feel of fear, it was the ability to see that fear, to
battle in the sensation of taking a person and killing him. This blood was
just so bloody clean.
Dad understood that. Old Loki might not be a demon, but he could get the
lust for blood better than anyone. It's why he despised Spike so much. The
demon part that is. Because he could feel the same lusts for destruction in
himself and he didn't like to be reminded of that.
"And through all who gather, blood shall pour like rain."
He needed real blood damn it! He sipped his lips, touching the taste of his
drink.
This bloody well better not go on like this... this was worse than watching a
pornflick in getting him all worked up.
It was making him bloody hungry, that's what it did.
Buffy had her finger in between her lips. He could hear her suck it. The
strong muscles in her legs played up as she swung them back and fourth.
"Keep still will ya Slayer. You nearly hit me there."
She lowered down, her green eyes glittering in good humor.
"And here I was thinking you'd be happy to be hit on for a change."
The gleam increased.
"Don't girls generally run away when they see that signpost you call your
hair."
Spike glared back.
"It's better than that face of yours." he smirked.
"No wonder demons run like hell when they see you. All that make up would
make anyone sodd of."
She grabbed his head, pulling it back, closer to hers.
"Oh really?"
Nothing could give him more satisfaction than the look in his grandsires eyes
at their ribbing around. It almost, almost made up for hanging with the
loserbrigade.
******
Lilin woke up with the sunlight shining in her eyes. It reflected on
Temlans face, blurring his familiar looks for her sleepdazed vision. He almost
glowed on the dark satin sheets.
"What time is it?" she slurred out, barely believing his answer.
The young looking immortal let her head drop down on his chest.
He just whispered his love for her.
"I love you too."
Lilin smiled and moved her fingers through the mess of curls that was supposed to be her hair. The girl was almost spinning in pleasure at the touch of his hand, at the sensation of his fingers on her small breasts.
She had to work to open her eyes. Finally she blinked a few times. Her
knees hit his and she pulled her legs in between his.
"I'll always love you." She whispered
There was something, a look in his eyes as their eyes finally met. She just blamed it on the reflection of the sun, on the blanket of sleep that still covered her merely half awoken brain.
The immortal girl grinned softly, half aware as she kissed him. Their lips
touching.
"What time is it?" she asked again.
"No idea."
She stared outside, almost shocked at the hour and pounced his shoulder.
"Why in the name of the goddess didn't you wake me?
Temlan just kissed her, grabbing her lips to firmly for her to even try and
talk. Lilin pushed him down and leaned over him.
"I love you."
He just smiled as her lips touched his neck.
