Buffy's angered voice seemed to echo through the woods causing the terrible screeching that could be heard on the horizon to start up again, a replying call of doom to the desperate inquiry into the night.
They all exchanged nervous looks, whether they were at the sounds of the closing demon or the venom in Buffy's eyes they weren't quite sure. Turning to face the racket with crossbow at the ready, Giles took a few steps into the trees to protect them if necessary as Buffy approached Spike.
Impossibly, he seemed to be even stiller than before; his head was hung now, his eyes closed and the features on the angular face falling slack. Biting her lower lip hard enough to draw blood, Buffy kneeled down over his form feeling utterly at a loss as to what to do now. She could hear Dawn crying softly from where she stood with Xander, a comforting arm slung about her shoulders as the older teen watched on in confusion.
He had never expected to see the Vampire fall. The cocky creature was like a recurring nightmare or toothache; it always returned to frustrate and annoy them sooner or later. The fact that he was likely 'gone' now was something very difficult indeed to acknowledge let alone comprehend.
Reaching out a cautious hand, Buffy withdrew it rapidly and her eyes widened in shock as Spike's vampire visage slipped into place, the pale skin buckling and contorting silently as the transformation swiftly took place. Confused, she made to touch him again when he remained unmoving for a few more seconds only to let out a squeak of surprise when he lunged at her with a roar.
Rolling with the force of the impact, she brought her feet up to her chest and roughly shoved him off of her, moving to sit on his back and bring his arms up hard behind him, leaning her weight against those sinewy muscles which threatened to break her grip. He strained beneath her making unsettlingly animalistic sounds before falling still, panting unnecessarily into the cool earth as he seemed to regain his bearings. Finally the harsh breaths stopped and the sound of him scenting the air softly could be heard.
"Buffy? What the 'ell 're you doin'?" he croaked, his voice gravelly from underuse.
"Spike?" the Slayer breathed back, barely hesitating before she quickly released him and stood over him, grasping the material of his shirt and hauling him none-too-gently to his feet. He hissed at the sudden movement, blue eyes flashing yellow before receding to human again entirely.
Surprising everyone there, including herself, Buffy wrapped her arms about his waist and held him tight to her, reassuring herself that she hadn't allowed him to be killed him for good with that stunt Chem had pulled. Freezing at the movement for a moment before recovering, Spike brought his hands up to her forearms and pushed her away, looking down into her face seriously.
"I really don't think this is the time for that, pet," he said, cocking a scarred eyebrow sharply behind her in the direction of yet more howls. As if a thought had suddenly occurred to him, Spike looked about himself quickly before returning his gaze to her. "Where's Chem? I remember, well, fuzzily recollect him carryin' me."
Eyes narrowing into veritable chips of ice at that name, Buffy snapped out a response, some part of her feeling relieved that they were sinking back into the same old trend. Little had changed. "'Chem' stuck a mystical glowy knife thing through your head just now. Excuse me for not giving a damn about where he is."
He frowned at her, his brow furrowing as he tried to remember what had actually happened. His eyes widened when he realized that Buffy had probably run the mischievous demon off before he could explain what had occurred. "Chem was helpin' luv. Exorcised my demon for a second."
"Exorcised? As in priest type exorcise?" Willow asked as her attention was perked as well as her curiosity.
"No, more like a brutal knock-out type; none of that chanting mumbo-jumbo. Still bloody hurt though," Spike added, a hand going up to rub at the back of his head where it felt like someone had imbedded a large, blunt axe.
"He broke the link," Giles murmured before clarifying in a louder voice for everyone else to hear. "Chem sent the demon out of Spike's body and in doing so broke the connection between the Fresha demon and Spike. Which means that it'll move onto the population within an hour. We have to kill it now Buffy, this is our only chance." "Well that should work well with absolutely no weapons!" Buffy shouted back at the Watcher in exasperation. He offered her a small, wry smile as he lifted the crossbow slightly, the only weapon of real use between them all now that the axe was gone.Without warning said axe dropped from the trees, landing with a dull 'thud' at the toes of Buffy's boots. Grinning despite the droning in his skull, Spike scanned the trees for the shimmer that would indicate the position of his friend. Unfortunately it could only be seen when the demon was moving, which apparently he wasn't as he couldn't see anything over than twigs and leaves.
"Chem! Get your demon ass back to the bar and round up Hi'Frek and his mates. Bring 'em here," he shouted up in the dark.
"Ah yes. Brute force would be more appropriate for this particular enemy than incompetence," they heard a familiar voice call back before the leaves rustled and he was gone.
"Hey!" Xander shouted after the departing, albeit invisible, figure in indignation.
"He's just snarked off that you threw that axe at him," Spike informed Buffy, nodding towards the weapon that she had just knelt down and collected."How the heck did you know that? You were unconscious."
"It's you," he snorted back sounding amused. "Come on. Might as well set up some kind of perimeter before the cavalry gets here. That beasty sounds right pissed." **** Ten minutes later the bulky armored demon stepped out of the driver's cabin of a large, red pickup truck, a group of demons in assorted shapes, sizes and colours in the back. Unloading a rather impressive arsenal of weapons, familiar and foreign, they all stood before the Slayer awaiting instructions. Evidently Chem had convinced them beforehand to form a grudging alliance with her, the fate of the world being pretty much in her hands a rather good bargaining chip for that truce.And the Fresha Demon continued to close in on their position, its howls of fury and hunger piercing the night air and sending Fledgelings back into their shadowed homes trembling in fear.
After their forces had gathered they had moved impossibly deeper into the wood, the demons separating into the trees to lie in wait, their very nature the human's defense as they were relying on their supernatural senses for an advanced warning. Willow and Tara were immersed in the undergrowth at the side of the clearing Buffy, Giles, Spike and Chem occupied, fully prepared to cast a number of spells when the Fresha appeared. Xander had bowed under Buffy's protective orders and taken Dawn away, the teen protesting every meter that they walked away from the scene of the imminent battle.
Buffy stood at her Watcher's side, both the established fighters eerily relaxed despite the sounds, faces set in grin determination as they clutched the smooth wood of their weapons; Giles with a crossbow and Buffy with her axe, numerous stakes occupying the area around the small of her back.
Surprisingly, it was Chem and Spike who seemed the most restless of them all.
"I'm afraid that you are simply going to have to curb your most constructive feelings for now, old friend, as this is not quite the time for revenge," Chem spoke smoothly, his sparkling eyes facing forward, not on the anxious Vampire at his side.
Spike shifted uneasily, his weight switching from his left foot to his right. "I know that. But all I can think about is wringing that little light-bulb-headed freak's scrawny neck and shoving his head up his. Then he can spend the rest of his miserable life wandering around looking for the light switch. As violence-loving that I am, I just don't want to be here."
A weary sigh this time. "I'm afraid that is my doing. A side effect of the brutal exorcism that I performed on you is the demon's overwhelming desire to harm whoever attacked it. To be frank you are quite useless here; it will quite impossible for you to 'throw' yourself into this battle with as much vigor as you usually would, unless you satisfy your demon with Deparis first."
Sharp eyes, still hard from the suffering over the last week, turned on the Kalmala. "You're saying that I should leave?"
With an expression that was a curious cross between a grin and a smirk Chem leant in close to him. "I'll cover for you," he whispered before straightening. "I think you'll find that he has been operating out of the five-star hotel near the UC Sunnydale campus. Something, appropriate, would be enough to bring your mind back from these recent events I believe."
Smirking himself now, Spike risked a glance over to the Slayer's back before stepping backwards, immersing himself into the shadows. "Thanks mate."
"Anytime my aggressive friend, anytime."*****
It was quite easy to deduce the Fresha Demon's state of being when it finally, dramatically, hulked its form into the small clearing, numerous growls and shouts from the hidden demons having alerted them all of its nearing for some time.
It was pissed.
The eyes now glowed with an intensity that was almost blinding, the barbs that comprised its hide rippling ceaselessly, violently. Its screeching howls that had been voiced over the last half-hour were now continuous, its disapproval of having its thread of emotional-energy being cut off. It had not yet established itself enough to feed from the general population, relying on internal strength that was slowly diminishing to keep on moving. That didn't make it any less formidable though.
Four of the demons that Chem had brought with him were already dead and the leader of the strange group himself had an impressive gash running the length of his back, blood-loss making his camouflaging talents less effective and his supernatural powers weak. At present he was keeping himself on the opposite side of the demon to Buffy and Giles, slashing at the shifting hide of its haunches with a broadsword he had brought back with him.
The crossbow had been abandoned simply because it was useless in close-range combat, which the Fresha seemed intent on having. Giles was now shoving stakes into every part of the demon that he could reach, mostly with the purpose of distracting it so that Buffy could get a clean shot with her axe. That was the going plan of the Witches, although the Fresha seemed immune to a lot of what they had already thrown at it and Anya's attempts with a sword were not going well either.
One of it's clawed hands was gone now, a strange goo trickling from the stump of an arm and smearing the blade of the axe, but still the demon kept on coming. Finally, Chem provided the opening needed by pouncing onto its shoulders, wrapping his legs about its neck and slamming his hands over its eyes. Obviously trying to shut it down like he had before, he moved his now-smoking hands away with a shout of pain as he realised that he had picked the wrong part of its body to focus his energies through.
But the distraction had been enough. Swinging the blade down Buffy opened its torso in a clean sweep, wrenching the axe out of the earth and swiping it through the broad neck milliseconds after Chem jumped clear. Another howl and an admittedly spectacular show of lights before the beast disintegrated, a lattice of crimson hanging suspended in the air before it disappeared on the breeze.
There was absolute silence for a few seconds before the realization that it was dead sunk in, the surviving demons cheering and growling triumph before deciding that the alliance was over and stalking back to the urbanized area outside the wood. Tara and Willow were jumping up and down hugging with abandon and Giles was smiling broadly, getting hugged by Anya a second later after seeing the Witches' example that that action was appropriate. Buffy grinned herself as she dropped the heavy weapon, glancing around herself to celebrate her victory with the Vampire the Fresha had been spawned from only to find his presence lacking.
Her smile faltering, she strode to Chem who was sitting on the ground with his legs splayed, his weight resting through his elbows on his raised knees and his breathing coming in slow, careful breathes so as not to stretch the wound on his back further. Standing over him with her hands on her hips, she asked in a highly suspicious voice, "where's Spike?"
He had been expecting the question, that much was obvious when he turned his face up to hers, the corners of his eyes crinkling with pain that he had decided not to voice openly. "Getting that thing which you humans call 'closure'. He should be back in a few hours. Or days, depending on how creative he is feeling tonight."
"He's gone after Deparis," she murmured to herself, her eyes going distant as she mentally scrolled through the ramifications of such an action.
"Clever girl. It was instinct, pure and unyielding, that drove him there. Removing the demon from his body, although risky, had the added bonus of not only breaking the Fresha's connection to him, but of also giving it a veritable slap in the face. All those emotions that have been swirling about in his head ever since Deparis laid eyes on him are all being directed outwards now with one sole purpose in his mind. To hurt, maim and kill him." He snorted lightly to himself, looking away as his own mind turned over something new. "I'm quite jealous actually."
****
His Precious was gone. Scattered on the breeze. Sentenced to oblivion as a powerless, formless ghost of its true, beautiful self. Gone forever.
Deparis knew that he had to leave Sunnydale and quickly; with his Precious gone there was nothing to keep him here, and his nature was not that of one to accept failure, especially his own. He would have to make those who had stopped him pay, for no other reason than that they had gotten into his way and destroyed something truly magnificent in the process.
He had already sent his larger toys through the portal, sending the machine that created the proverbial 'blip' in space through it too. Nothing organic could go through it, a feature of its design that he found amusing because it defied physics in that it could transport that which could create it through it. Either way, he had to leave the Hellmouth on foot with his ever-present bag in hand should anything arise to try and prevent that course of action.
Deparis had gotten to the end of the corridor from his room when he detected a familiar scent in the air, a light, dusty scent that he had committed to memory some time ago. The Animal was back. It had survived.
This was not pleasing and served to lengthen his strides, his mind extending in an attempt to detect the creature's exact location. He pinpointed it a second too late though, for it stepped out of the elevator he was meters from, shoulder's raised and teeth bared in a purely animalistic fashion. There was no real sense in those eyes, only the desire to tear his throat out.
Now he couldn't have that.
Lazily outstretching a hand to discard the Beast, he was surprised to find his wrist broken within a second. Apparently its rage, the source of it unknown as the levels were impossible, had lent it a speed that was not its own. This creature had just become a significant danger to him. His hand automatically outstretching over his case, his mind prepared to pull any number of instruments from its depths to aid him, but found himself unable as that wrist too was broken.
Not used to physical combat, Deparis could do little as the savage animal lifted him up by his throat and carried him back down the corridor into the room, he had previously occupied, his scent betraying his path meaning that the Vampire knew this room's sole occupants would be them. Kicking the door shut behind them, the Beast with the shock of ice-white hair continued to glare at him, a steady rumble emanating from his chest and reverberating down his arm against his throat.
Throwing him mercilessly against the wall, Deparis sat in a crumpled heap on the floor as he felt the Vampire's eyes bore into him, the Beast obviously deciding what to do with him next. As he sat there Deparis could only berate himself for underestimating this one. Master Vampires were always tricky characters but he had been positive that this one was effectively dead. Friends working to this extent to help it was something he had not counted on, something that he knew he was going to pay dearly for.Evidently having set its mind on what punishment it was going to exact the Beast sent a sharp kick to his ribs to keep him down before disappearing out of the room and returning with his bag. Deparis felt a surge of utter outrage at this; his oldest and most comfortably broken-in bag was now in the possession of this filth. But all he had the power to do was glare, both his hands useless now and internal bleeding obvious from the surging pain in his chest.
Tearing open the top of the bag which he had set on the bed, the Vampire delved its pale hand inside, cursing loudly when it touched something that burned before reaching out and tearing away a strip of the sheets. Wrapping it as a barrier between his skin and the contents of the bag, he reinserted his hand and produced a handful of thin, shining stakes. Identical to the ones that had been used to impale it, Deparis deduced that a quaint irony was going to play a major factor in his suffering, the spare weapons he had created the focus of that irony.
Holding three of the silver stakes clumsily in the hand that also encased his throat, the Beast hauled Deparis onto his feet and brought the single stake in his free hand back, driving it forward with intent into the arm at his side, smoke curling up unnoticed from between it's fingers as it held it. Broken bones and raw nerves screamed as the stake separated them further, and although he was not reactive to the metal as the Vampire was it still stung a great deal. The process was then repeated on the other arm, both wrists now nailed brutally into the wall with two to spare.
Obviously having no huge desire to allow his existence to continue for any great length of time, the Animal stepped back and released his throat. Blood-loss and pain stole Deparis of his strength and sent him crashing to his knees, his wrists burning as they were pulled at by the weight of his body. Bringing luminous eyes that were rapidly dimming up to face his tormentor, Deparis followed the ice-blue eyes as the Beast knelt down to his eye-level, coming in close to his face so that its cool breath splayed over his face and lips.
"Payback's a bitch."
Then, with eyes sparkling and lips pulled in a smile of quiet, personal triumph, the remaining two stakes were brought out either side of his head in each hand before slamming in on him. And then oblivion descended.
****
They had returned straight to the Magic Box, Dawn diving into Buffy's arms and Xander exhaling in relief when they all entered relatively unscathed. Chem had refused help and walked back with them on his own steam, but he had looked ready to collapse when they passed through the doors, having to actually sit in a seat to recover himself rather than take his customary position against the wall.
They had stayed there for a twenty minutes, everyone babbling excitedly about the details of the battle to the pair who had not been present, everyone except for Buffy. The Slayer stood staring out of the shop window waiting for any sign of Spike, her concern for the sarcastic Vampire growing with every passing minute that he failed to emerge.
When Chem shifted into a straighter position she knew that the Kalmala had sensed something important, staring at him expectantly for clarification. The blue-haired demon said nothing, only grinned in that infuriatingly cryptic way that only he could and cast his eyes to the back door. Soon everyone was watching it expectantly, picking up on both his and Buffy's gaze and following it so see what was so significant.
After a few seconds the heavy door slammed open, the wood smashing into the wall as Spike entered with as much bravado as could be expected when he was having a good day. Grinning at the group he quickly moved over to Chem, glancing with concern over his split jacket and back before meeting his eyes.
"Closure?"
"Hell yeah."
****
No more than a week later Chem's wound had healed and life had more or less returned to normal. Buffy was back out slaying, Spike was tagging a long and generally being a pain in the ass. The Kalmala had told the Vampire whilst they were drinking up a storm in his crypt that now that nothing really exciting was occurring in SunnyHell he was going to be making his way south to seek out his own entertainment.
Spike had just smiled at him and asked what was south to which Chem replied with a matching expression, "the Slayer that replaced the European one last week. Your one is fairly amusing and I am hoping that it is a trend in that profession."
Despite a bitch of a hangover the following night Chem had departing, leaving Spike with the unsettling words that he would return when he would be least expected. To put it mildly, this did not impress Buffy at all.
End
Yup, crap ending. I know. You think I don't?! On the upside I finally finished it. On the downside I left about a million 'strings' untied. Sod it; it's readable and spell-checked.