TITLE: Hell Unleashed
AUTHOR: Drusilla
RATING: R
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike -ish
SPOILERS: up to The Gift in BtVS, Redefinition in Angel
SUMMARY: Buffy is resurrected.. to fight for a very different cause
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Co.
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!
AN: Thanx, Soli, for the being injected with Holy water idea
Hell Unleashed- Chapter 4
-------------------------------
"Surprise," Darla said bewitchingly at Angelus' window, under the full glare of the sun.
"Darla, pack up your things, we have to go back to the Hellmout, NOW." Said Angelus,
pulling her into the house.
"Aren't you going to ask why we aren't burning?" Darla asked, frowning.
"No. I already know. This woman named Kalika came to see me. We've been given gifts.
Now we have to return to the Hellmouth."
She looked at him in disbelief. "We're leaving because some woman gave you a gift?"
"She's not any woman, Darla, she's a devil. She was sent here by Lucifer and we are going
help them."
"Why? Why should we help them?" She was furious. "How do you know she's a devil anyways?"
"Look. She came and left in flames. I think that means something. We have to help them
kill the Doves, or something like that."
Darla rolled her eyes. "Fine. Whatever. I already have my duffel bag. I only have a few
other things." She moved to the closet and stuffed her belongings into a tote.
"Good. Let's go."
"Miss Edith enjoys the sun." Drusilla spoke up.
"That's nice, Dru." Darla said, annoyed. "Are we leaving or what?"
Angelus nodded and the three of them stepped out into the sun.
* * *
She knew it was just an excuse.
She knew she had a heart, and that if she tried, she was capable of loving.
But she was afraid of trying.
She was afraid to let herself fall in love. There was nothing to stop her anymore: no
friends, no vampire-slayer codes of conduct. There was only herself, and she held on to it
with her un-life.
She had touched the stars once, and she had let them fall.
She wasn't going to do it again.
She looked up and saw the hurt in his eyes. "Oh Spike, I'm sorry." She whispered. Her
own eyes were full of sadness and sympathy.
He saw it and snorted to himself. God, he was love's bitch. He was becoming just like his
old wanker of a sire. "Come on, the sun's set already, let's go somewhere." He said
stiffly, trying not to let his emotions show.
She nodded and pulled herself up, dusting off her dress. "I need clothes."
"Your house." He remembered. "Everything's still there. It's only been a few weeks."
He paused for a moment. "Aren't you going to ask about Dawn?"
"Yeah." She said carefully. "What happened to her?"
"The monks took her away. They.. kind of canceled her human form."
"Oh." Was all she managed. Dawn was her sister. She should have felt sad but she didn't.
It was strange. She should have grieved but she was incapable of that type of emotion.
"Let's go then." He pulled his leather duster over him.
They walked through the cemetery peacefully, in silence. He didn't speak because he had
nothing left to say, and she didn't speak because she was afraid of what she would say if
she let her tongue free.
She sensed something wrong, but at first she thought it was only her skittishness. She
glanced around and when she saw nothing she tried to relax, but the feeling remained.
Suddenly two-- men, it seemed, appeared from the shadows and grabbed Spike. Before she
could react they had injected him with some sort of transparent liquid.. a sedative, surely.
She punched one of them in the nose and he reeled backward in pain but the other kicked
her in the face.
It was not a hard blow, but it was enough to stun her for the moment. Evidently they did
not intend to harm her.
She got ready to lunge at them again, but in a flash of light, they were gone.
She looked around. They had taken Spike, and left no traces.
And suddenly she was only a little girl again, lost and alone, standing in the midst of
graves, panting for unneeded breath.
* * *
"Giles! Giles! I think I've found something!" Willow exclaimed, pleased with herself for
having accomplished something useful at last.
"Yes Willow? What is it?" Giles answered dully, without looking up from his book.
"It says here that Conflux is a world. A neutral world. Its inhabitants include pixies,
air elementals, water elementals, fire elementals, and earth elementals." She said proudly.
"Oh yes, and phoenixes."
"Wow," Giles said. "Where did you come up with that?"
"Internet." Willow smiled smugly.
Giles took off his glasses. "So the Slayer's wisdom will call upon these creatures.. a
portal, you think? Or ritual?"
"Ritual. It says here that these creatures may be called at the expert level of magic,
but once one is summoned no other types may be called by the same person."
"Now all we have to do is find the Slayer's wisdom to summon them."
The chimes above the door rang and Anya went to greet the customer. "Hi!" She grinned
cheerfully. "How may I help you?"
"I'm here to see Rupert Giles." He said coolly.
"Gi-les!" She called in a sing-song voice. "Someone's here to see you!"
Giles emerged from the back to see the same man he had threatened last night.. this morning,
actually. "Er, good evening," He said uncomfortably. "Sorry, I don't recall your name.."
"Peter." The man said. "As I have previously mentioned, I was supposed to guide you, but
uncompromising circumstances made it difficult to do so. However, now my Master has sent me
back, because we are running out of time and obviously you desperately need my help."
Giles was about to open his mouth and tell him that they did *not* desperately need his help
but he shut it again.
"Who's your Master?" Willow broke in.
"Lord Ambrosius."
"Aha!" Giles exclaimed triumphantly. "Ambrosius means Prince of Light. You must be the
Doves."
"Yes. We are also called the Angelic Alliance. We are here because Heaven and Hell are
currently at war."
Giles nodded. "The prophecy."
"The part you two have in it is this: you are the Slayer's wisdom." He gestured to Giles
and Willow.
"So it's our job to summon the phoenix?" Willow squeaked nervously.
"Exactly. Now I must go. I have many things to look after. Good luck." He turned to
leave.
"Wait!" Willow blurted. "It says that the spell is at the expert level of magic. And..
I- I'm not at that level!" She said, embarrassed.
"Oh, but you *are*, Willow." He chuckled. "You have been for some time. You have the
gift for it. The spell is not complex, there is hardly room for error. However there is
an ingredient which may be hard to find." He warned.
"Thank you." Giles said. "And sorry about earlier..."
Peter smiled and left the store.
"Ooh! I've found the spell." Willow said as she madly copied all the ingredients down.
"There are only two ingredients. Flaming rose? And we need something of Buffy's."
"And the spell itself?" Giles asked, worriedly.
"Just a simple incantation. Where are we going to get this flaming rose?"
"I've heard of it before. Let me just check if it's on our suppliers' lists..." He went
behind the counter and pulled out a fat purple binder labeled 'Magical Flowers and Herbs-
Supplier List'. He flipped through the pages and, finding the category 'Roses', he ran
his finger down the page. "Nope." He sighed defeatedly.
"Hmm. Let me check in this book." Willow said, holding up another of Giles' old volumes
of magical lore.
They racked their brains and their books but came up with nothing.
* * *
When Spike came to, he was lying on soft white featherbed under crisp yellow sheets. His
arm throbbed where the men had injected him with some liquid.
He looked down and to his horror it was blue. He must have been bleeding internally.
Oh God. He looked away again, sick. It was aching now, like it was eating him from the
inside. Lord, he needed to get out of here. He got up and searched for a way out, but it
seemed that there was no door to this room.
It was painted in a sickening clean white.
Great. No doors. God, how did he get in here in the first place?
"Looking for me?" Dylan appeared in a flash of light.
For a moment, Spike was blinded, his undead eyes unused to seeing such brilliance. He
blinked hard, and when his vision came back he saw a harmless-looking man standing in front
of him.
He backed away in a corner, growling.
"There's no need for that. You called me."
Spike was bewildered. "Did not."
"But you did. My name is Dylan. I am the Archangel."
The vampire was confused. "Archangel?"
Dylan smiled. "I am who you call God. Of course I'm not all that the Church claims me to
be, but I am He in any case."
"*You* expect *me* to believe that you are *God*?" Spike laughed. "God is no human."
"You are right. This is my human form." There was, again, another flash of light, and
a whole new figure stood before him. "I am an angel. This is my truest form." He had
the same features, except his whole body was brighter. It seemed he was composed of light.
Two silver-feathered wings spanned out behind him.
He was beauty itself.
Spike was amazed. He stood there with his mouth open for a long while.
"Why have you come for me?" He whispered, he voice breaking.
"Come here." Dylan gently. He took Spike's injured arm and ran his hand over it.
The pain disappeared, as did the swelling and the bruising.
"What was it?" He asked, trembling.
"Holy water. They injected it into you. Lucky for vampires, your blood doesn't circulate,
so it only affected one part of your body. However, it was burning away at the inside of
your arm."
Spike nodded.
"I have come to offer you a deal." Said Dylan. "You are intimate with Buffy, are you not?"
"You might say that." Spike sighed.
"Good. Has she ever mentioned the fact that she went to Hell and that forced her demon
inside of her because they had things planned for her?"
"Yes. Something like that. She said they were planning.. something." He couldn't
remember.
"They are planning war. Against us. Heaven. What I need you to do is spy on her, give
us information about the other side. She is working for them--"
"I can't." Spike interrupted. Instantly he felt unprincipled for both denying God a duty
and for interrupting him. He looked up at the Archangel with pleading eyes. "I can't.
I love her."
"I understand," Dylan said sympathetically. "I know you love her. But she doesn't know
what will happen if Hell wins. The balance will be lost. All life will be destroyed and I
won't be here to start it again. Now. Will you listen to the rest?"
Spike nodded sadly.
"If you do this, if you work on the Good side and Heaven still exists when you die, you will
be admitted. You will see your family again. Your mother. Your sisters. Joyce." He
paused. "I'll give you some time, if you'd like."
Was Spike dreaming? He didn't think so. He'd never dreamt like this before, anyways.
Buffy would never love him. He had to get over that. But his sisters had loved him, as had
his mother. And Joyce had liked him and respected him.
God was offering him heaven.
"I don't need time." He said slowly.
Dylan sighed. He had hoped it would work.
"I'll do it."
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED...
Please let me know what you think :)
Feel free to give me any ideas or constructive critism or whatever!
AUTHOR: Drusilla
RATING: R
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike -ish
SPOILERS: up to The Gift in BtVS, Redefinition in Angel
SUMMARY: Buffy is resurrected.. to fight for a very different cause
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Co.
DISRIBUTION: Sure, take it! Just let me know and credit me, please
FEEDBACK: Yes, please!
AN: Thanx, Soli, for the being injected with Holy water idea
Hell Unleashed- Chapter 4
-------------------------------
"Surprise," Darla said bewitchingly at Angelus' window, under the full glare of the sun.
"Darla, pack up your things, we have to go back to the Hellmout, NOW." Said Angelus,
pulling her into the house.
"Aren't you going to ask why we aren't burning?" Darla asked, frowning.
"No. I already know. This woman named Kalika came to see me. We've been given gifts.
Now we have to return to the Hellmouth."
She looked at him in disbelief. "We're leaving because some woman gave you a gift?"
"She's not any woman, Darla, she's a devil. She was sent here by Lucifer and we are going
help them."
"Why? Why should we help them?" She was furious. "How do you know she's a devil anyways?"
"Look. She came and left in flames. I think that means something. We have to help them
kill the Doves, or something like that."
Darla rolled her eyes. "Fine. Whatever. I already have my duffel bag. I only have a few
other things." She moved to the closet and stuffed her belongings into a tote.
"Good. Let's go."
"Miss Edith enjoys the sun." Drusilla spoke up.
"That's nice, Dru." Darla said, annoyed. "Are we leaving or what?"
Angelus nodded and the three of them stepped out into the sun.
* * *
She knew it was just an excuse.
She knew she had a heart, and that if she tried, she was capable of loving.
But she was afraid of trying.
She was afraid to let herself fall in love. There was nothing to stop her anymore: no
friends, no vampire-slayer codes of conduct. There was only herself, and she held on to it
with her un-life.
She had touched the stars once, and she had let them fall.
She wasn't going to do it again.
She looked up and saw the hurt in his eyes. "Oh Spike, I'm sorry." She whispered. Her
own eyes were full of sadness and sympathy.
He saw it and snorted to himself. God, he was love's bitch. He was becoming just like his
old wanker of a sire. "Come on, the sun's set already, let's go somewhere." He said
stiffly, trying not to let his emotions show.
She nodded and pulled herself up, dusting off her dress. "I need clothes."
"Your house." He remembered. "Everything's still there. It's only been a few weeks."
He paused for a moment. "Aren't you going to ask about Dawn?"
"Yeah." She said carefully. "What happened to her?"
"The monks took her away. They.. kind of canceled her human form."
"Oh." Was all she managed. Dawn was her sister. She should have felt sad but she didn't.
It was strange. She should have grieved but she was incapable of that type of emotion.
"Let's go then." He pulled his leather duster over him.
They walked through the cemetery peacefully, in silence. He didn't speak because he had
nothing left to say, and she didn't speak because she was afraid of what she would say if
she let her tongue free.
She sensed something wrong, but at first she thought it was only her skittishness. She
glanced around and when she saw nothing she tried to relax, but the feeling remained.
Suddenly two-- men, it seemed, appeared from the shadows and grabbed Spike. Before she
could react they had injected him with some sort of transparent liquid.. a sedative, surely.
She punched one of them in the nose and he reeled backward in pain but the other kicked
her in the face.
It was not a hard blow, but it was enough to stun her for the moment. Evidently they did
not intend to harm her.
She got ready to lunge at them again, but in a flash of light, they were gone.
She looked around. They had taken Spike, and left no traces.
And suddenly she was only a little girl again, lost and alone, standing in the midst of
graves, panting for unneeded breath.
* * *
"Giles! Giles! I think I've found something!" Willow exclaimed, pleased with herself for
having accomplished something useful at last.
"Yes Willow? What is it?" Giles answered dully, without looking up from his book.
"It says here that Conflux is a world. A neutral world. Its inhabitants include pixies,
air elementals, water elementals, fire elementals, and earth elementals." She said proudly.
"Oh yes, and phoenixes."
"Wow," Giles said. "Where did you come up with that?"
"Internet." Willow smiled smugly.
Giles took off his glasses. "So the Slayer's wisdom will call upon these creatures.. a
portal, you think? Or ritual?"
"Ritual. It says here that these creatures may be called at the expert level of magic,
but once one is summoned no other types may be called by the same person."
"Now all we have to do is find the Slayer's wisdom to summon them."
The chimes above the door rang and Anya went to greet the customer. "Hi!" She grinned
cheerfully. "How may I help you?"
"I'm here to see Rupert Giles." He said coolly.
"Gi-les!" She called in a sing-song voice. "Someone's here to see you!"
Giles emerged from the back to see the same man he had threatened last night.. this morning,
actually. "Er, good evening," He said uncomfortably. "Sorry, I don't recall your name.."
"Peter." The man said. "As I have previously mentioned, I was supposed to guide you, but
uncompromising circumstances made it difficult to do so. However, now my Master has sent me
back, because we are running out of time and obviously you desperately need my help."
Giles was about to open his mouth and tell him that they did *not* desperately need his help
but he shut it again.
"Who's your Master?" Willow broke in.
"Lord Ambrosius."
"Aha!" Giles exclaimed triumphantly. "Ambrosius means Prince of Light. You must be the
Doves."
"Yes. We are also called the Angelic Alliance. We are here because Heaven and Hell are
currently at war."
Giles nodded. "The prophecy."
"The part you two have in it is this: you are the Slayer's wisdom." He gestured to Giles
and Willow.
"So it's our job to summon the phoenix?" Willow squeaked nervously.
"Exactly. Now I must go. I have many things to look after. Good luck." He turned to
leave.
"Wait!" Willow blurted. "It says that the spell is at the expert level of magic. And..
I- I'm not at that level!" She said, embarrassed.
"Oh, but you *are*, Willow." He chuckled. "You have been for some time. You have the
gift for it. The spell is not complex, there is hardly room for error. However there is
an ingredient which may be hard to find." He warned.
"Thank you." Giles said. "And sorry about earlier..."
Peter smiled and left the store.
"Ooh! I've found the spell." Willow said as she madly copied all the ingredients down.
"There are only two ingredients. Flaming rose? And we need something of Buffy's."
"And the spell itself?" Giles asked, worriedly.
"Just a simple incantation. Where are we going to get this flaming rose?"
"I've heard of it before. Let me just check if it's on our suppliers' lists..." He went
behind the counter and pulled out a fat purple binder labeled 'Magical Flowers and Herbs-
Supplier List'. He flipped through the pages and, finding the category 'Roses', he ran
his finger down the page. "Nope." He sighed defeatedly.
"Hmm. Let me check in this book." Willow said, holding up another of Giles' old volumes
of magical lore.
They racked their brains and their books but came up with nothing.
* * *
When Spike came to, he was lying on soft white featherbed under crisp yellow sheets. His
arm throbbed where the men had injected him with some liquid.
He looked down and to his horror it was blue. He must have been bleeding internally.
Oh God. He looked away again, sick. It was aching now, like it was eating him from the
inside. Lord, he needed to get out of here. He got up and searched for a way out, but it
seemed that there was no door to this room.
It was painted in a sickening clean white.
Great. No doors. God, how did he get in here in the first place?
"Looking for me?" Dylan appeared in a flash of light.
For a moment, Spike was blinded, his undead eyes unused to seeing such brilliance. He
blinked hard, and when his vision came back he saw a harmless-looking man standing in front
of him.
He backed away in a corner, growling.
"There's no need for that. You called me."
Spike was bewildered. "Did not."
"But you did. My name is Dylan. I am the Archangel."
The vampire was confused. "Archangel?"
Dylan smiled. "I am who you call God. Of course I'm not all that the Church claims me to
be, but I am He in any case."
"*You* expect *me* to believe that you are *God*?" Spike laughed. "God is no human."
"You are right. This is my human form." There was, again, another flash of light, and
a whole new figure stood before him. "I am an angel. This is my truest form." He had
the same features, except his whole body was brighter. It seemed he was composed of light.
Two silver-feathered wings spanned out behind him.
He was beauty itself.
Spike was amazed. He stood there with his mouth open for a long while.
"Why have you come for me?" He whispered, he voice breaking.
"Come here." Dylan gently. He took Spike's injured arm and ran his hand over it.
The pain disappeared, as did the swelling and the bruising.
"What was it?" He asked, trembling.
"Holy water. They injected it into you. Lucky for vampires, your blood doesn't circulate,
so it only affected one part of your body. However, it was burning away at the inside of
your arm."
Spike nodded.
"I have come to offer you a deal." Said Dylan. "You are intimate with Buffy, are you not?"
"You might say that." Spike sighed.
"Good. Has she ever mentioned the fact that she went to Hell and that forced her demon
inside of her because they had things planned for her?"
"Yes. Something like that. She said they were planning.. something." He couldn't
remember.
"They are planning war. Against us. Heaven. What I need you to do is spy on her, give
us information about the other side. She is working for them--"
"I can't." Spike interrupted. Instantly he felt unprincipled for both denying God a duty
and for interrupting him. He looked up at the Archangel with pleading eyes. "I can't.
I love her."
"I understand," Dylan said sympathetically. "I know you love her. But she doesn't know
what will happen if Hell wins. The balance will be lost. All life will be destroyed and I
won't be here to start it again. Now. Will you listen to the rest?"
Spike nodded sadly.
"If you do this, if you work on the Good side and Heaven still exists when you die, you will
be admitted. You will see your family again. Your mother. Your sisters. Joyce." He
paused. "I'll give you some time, if you'd like."
Was Spike dreaming? He didn't think so. He'd never dreamt like this before, anyways.
Buffy would never love him. He had to get over that. But his sisters had loved him, as had
his mother. And Joyce had liked him and respected him.
God was offering him heaven.
"I don't need time." He said slowly.
Dylan sighed. He had hoped it would work.
"I'll do it."
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED...
Please let me know what you think :)
Feel free to give me any ideas or constructive critism or whatever!