Several yards away, Jess suddenly sat up and grabbed the collar of Tara's dress.
"I need you to help me!"
"I-I-I th-think we need to help Willow," Tara stammered, taken aback by the girl's abrupt movement.
Jess met Tara's eyes.
"No, Willow can take care of herself."
"What?"
"She can take care of herself. We have to help Grey."
"J-Jess, Grey …he's …"
"NOT DEAD! Listen to me. A few years back, I cast a Catenatus charm on him. Do you know about those?" Tara shook her head. "It has a lot of effects, but the most important one is simple: I can feel if he's alive. It lasts until I cancel it or he dies, and I CAN STILL FEEL IT!" She shouted the last sentence, trying to make her point heard over the din. "He isn't dead. Now come on!" She grabbed the blonde girl's arm and hauled her to Grey's motionless body.
He certainly looked dead to Tara. She reached down and felt for a pulse; she was astonished to find a very faint one.
"Goddess! He-he is. B-but how?"
"Worry about that later, though I'm thinkin' it was the souped-up lightsaber. We need to get him secured, somehow."
They both looked up. The battle swirled around them; Buffy, Angel, Connor and Sirius were winning the fight with the vamps, supported by the four crossbows. Xander, Gunn, Spike, and Hagrid had the giants on the ropes. Jess could tell that the order to fall back was slowly circulating among the Death Eaters, though the Gryffindors were giving them fits as they tried to close on Pettigrew. The four kids were surprisingly effective, and Neville was doing a fair amount of damage to anything that got too close. They've fought real battles before, she realized.
In the center of all of it, every color of the rainbow and samples of all four elements flew back and forth between Willow and Voldemort. The raw power on display could have leveled mountains, but neither seemed to be gaining an inch.
"Can you cast?" Jess asked Tara, who shook her head. "Me either. We need someone to, though, or he'll die right here on the lawn." Her features suddenly hardened. "That's not happening."
"L-let me try something."
Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Buffy, Angel, and Connor were grace personified as they assaulted the undead horde. To Sirius' eyes they moved as one, like a scythe harvesting grain. He had his wand out now, and his library of combat spells zinged through the air. He saw Harry on the far side of the battle and wanted to call out to him, but he knew it would only break the boy's concentration. He shouldn't be out here, Sirius thought fleetingly as he put another vampire to the torch. At the same time, Spike's words came back to him: He's got the hero gene. And for an instant, pride replaced worry.
Then, an instant later, the vampires and hellhounds were all gone and the four of them were charging in after the Death Eaters, with Giles, McGonagall, Wesley, and the girls right on their heels.
The fist was the size of Spike's head, and it bore down on him with impossible speed.
Gunn's axe moved faster.
The razor sharp edge tore through muscle and bone, slicing the limb off neatly at the elbow. The giant fell to its knees, screaming in pain and clutching its rent limb. Hagrid's own fist flew through the air, hammering it in the face. Xander added a swift kick and Spike a right cross, and the giant slumped over, unconscious. Its slaughtered partner lay next to it.
"'Ey Shaft," Spike said as he retrieved his sword from the first giant's chest. "Thanks."
"Shaft?" Gunn said, incensed.
"Ignore him," Xander interjected. "He's obnoxious for the sole purpose of preventing anyone from liking him. Not that I mind," he quickly added. Gunn snarled one more time at Spike, but seemed mollified.
"Not ter break up yer celebratin' or nothin', but I think the kids could use our help," Hagrid said, pointing to where Harry and the others were finally facing off with Wormtail. From their angle, the Gryffindors couldn't see Lucius Malfoy coming up from behind them.
"Damn," Spike muttered as he tossed his cigarette away unlit and took off. The other three followed in short order.
"Harry, please," Wormtail begged. Four wands were pointed at him and Neville had the sword point six inches from his chest. "Please don't." He cast around frantically, but the Death Eaters were in full retreat and their allies were thoroughly routed. "Your father … he wouldn't …"
"Don't you dare talk about Harry's father, you bastard!"
The shout came from, of all people, Ginny. With his free hand, Ron touched her shoulder. Pettigrew was still dangerous, even at the point of a sword.
"Give me your wand, Pettigrew," Harry said. His voice had an edge that only Ron and Hermione had ever heard before.
"Be reasonable, Harry. Your father and I …"
"NOW, Pettigrew."
Wormtail sensed that each word was only making them angrier. In desperation, he reached slowly into his sleeve.
And then changed into a rat.
The change happened so fast that Neville, jerking the sword forward, missed completely and fell to the ground. Wormtail darted through his collapsing legs and between Harry's. He changed shapes again behind them, grabbing Ginny as he grew from rat form and placing his wand at her throat.
"Now, children, let's not do something rash. Drop your wand, Miss," he looked at her red hair, "my, you must be a Weasley. Now Miss Weasley, drop it." She complied, her wand soundlessly slipping onto the grass.
"And I'll take those," Malfoy said from behind them as he snatched away Ron and Harry's wands and kicked Neville's sword into the distance. "Can't have you doing anything rash, children. You," he pointed to Hermione, "come here. The rest of you, over there."
Hermione stepped forward and he drew his wand, pointing it at her chin. With his other hand he tossed the wands away.
Flushed and angry at themselves for not spotting Malfoy, the three wandless wizards took several steps backwards. They very nearly bumped into Spike and his group, who came to a dead stop at the sight of Ginny and Hermione held hostage.
Willow.
The voice in her head was almost too soft to hear over the droning rage. She was throwing every spell at him that Jess had ever seen, and he kept deflecting them. It was maddening, but it kept her from focusing on Grey.
Her love.
Who loved her.
Who was dead.
The rage exploded again, and she conjured and threw a ball of magnesium. It exploded into a ball of fire as it accelerated through the air. Voldemort brushed it aside with no ill effects.
Willow, please, if you can here me, sweetie, I need you.
Little busy, Tara. Frustrated, Willow through a barrage of ice spikes that were quickly destroyed.
The next thought blared at her.
GREY'S ALIVE!
The intensity of it, and the truth behind it, almost knocked Willow over. The stream of spells coming from her ceased; Voldemort, waiting for such an opening, wasted no time with his attack.
"EXIGO!"
Willow heard a crack and felt her ribs break when the beam of orange light tossed her into the air. She flew backwards a full dozen yards, landing with a scream audible over the din. Jess and Tara rushed to her side, but the shaken witch couldn't form words to cast, and the other two realized they were helpless in the middle of a raging battle.
Voldemort walked slowly forward, savoring the feeling of triumph as he watched Precious, the prone witch, and the blonde girl eyeing him with undisguised fear. So caught up with enjoying Willow's imminent death was he that he failed to notice the cloud of dust from the last of his vampires, or the tumbling thunks of the dead giants, or the shouting of his Death Eaters in full retreat.
"I suppose this is for the best," he said, a final hint of resignation in his voice as he raised his wand. "We would have had fun, though."
A small leather boot, well-worn but with a stylish and understated silver buckle, lashed up with the full force of Slayer strength behind it and broke his hand.
"It's not nice to point," Buffy quipped as she snatched the wand from the air. Voldemort began mouthing an incantation when Angel grabbed him from behind, full game face on display, and dug the point of his sword into the wizard's back.
"None of that, ugly. Unless you want a double-edged belly button ring."
"Angel, don't let him say a word," Buffy ordered. She cocked her head and studied the dark vampire for a moment. "Your lines are better."
"Didn't have you to hold my hand with it any more. It was get better or be boring," he answered, his grin frightening beneath the fangs. "What do you want to do with Saruman here?"
"I think you had best let him go, vampire," Lucius Malfoy's icy voice called out, "else something unfortunate happen to the two young ladies."
Malfoy and Pettigrew dragged Hermione and Ginny to a spot ten feet from where Angel held Voldemort, with Spike and the others following closely behind. The dark wizard's eyes burned with the indignity of his plight, and he silently vowed that he would exact bloody vengeance on every person there.
Seeing the hostages, Dawn and Fred trained their crossbows on Malfoy, and Cordelia and Wesley did the same to Pettigrew. None of them were confident of hitting anything other than Hermione and Ginny.
"He's-he's alive?" Willow whispered to Tara and Jess. The three of them were tensely observing the hostage drama. Her wind had finally returned after the hard blow from Voldemort.
"I'm sure of it," Jess told her quietly, eyeing the still-black hair and pale skin warily.
She said it with utter conviction, and when Tara nodded, a wave of hope sprouted in Willow's chest. If she could only stop and think … lying on the ground, she felt something digging into her leg. Grey's necklace. She reached gingerly into her pocket and pulled it out. She handed it to Tara, who clasped it around her neck.
The rage didn't die, but it faded into the background. With some dismay, she wondered if the magic stolen from the Death Eaters would be with her permanently. If so, she would need a lot more training to hold it in check. Shoving the thought to the back of her mind, she looked up at Jess and Tara.
"Okay, Willow's home," she said softly, earning a smile from Tara and a breath of relief from Jess.
Jess spoke next. "We don't help him soon, he buys the farm for sure. Can you cast?"
Willow nodded, but her features sagged as she followed the thought through to its conclusion.
"I don't know much healing magic, though. She … I didn't take that knowledge from you. I could maybe stop the Death Eaters, but … I don't have enough control to be precise about it. I can't risk it. I don't want the girls hurt – Grey wouldn't trade their lives for his, and I won't either."
"W-We need to d-do something," Tara said.
"I just don't know what we can do," was Willow's inadequate answer.
"Listen to me, Pettigrew," McGonagall called, knowing he was the weak link. She wished she had her wand, but in the chaos of the fighting she had been unable to retrieve it. "You know we will not allow you to harm those children, and we will not allow your master to escape."
Wormtail looked nervously from Malfoy, whose hood obscured his face still, to Voldemort, whose eyes burned with fury. His wand began to waver.
"Drop that wand and you die second, Wormtail," Malfoy said coldly.
Ron and Harry, standing off to the side, traded a look.
"Ron," Harry whispered. The redhead raised an eyebrow. "We knock down Malfoy, this'll be over."
Spike, with his vampiric hearing, eavesdropped on the exchange, hoping the bloody fools didn't go and do something rash.
"How?" Ron hissed.
"Wands are on the ground still." He nodded to the wands, lying behind Malfoy in the grass. "An' there's no one between us and them."
Ron picked up the gist instantly.
"D'you think it'll work? 'Cos … " Ron trailed off as he caught Spike looking at him. The vampire read his mind and nodded. It would be rash, but it might work if he jumped in. In the background, they could hear McGonagall and Malfoy shouting demands back and forth.
"Works for Willow. An' if it doesn't, what have we lost?" Harry asked. "On three?"
Ron nodded.
The Boy Who Lived held one hand down at his side, where Ron could see it, and extended three fingers. Ron nodded again.
One finger curled in.
Two fingers curled in.
When the third finger reached Harry's palm, everything happened at once.
"ACCIO!" They both shouted.
The wands didn't move.
Spike did.
Malfoy looked up in surprise, loosening his grip slightly on Hermione's neck to see where the spell had been cast. With his supernatural speed, Spike leapt from his spot and grabbed Malfoy's wand hand, forcing it away from her throat. When the Death Eater's grip eased, Hermione stamped hard on his foot and fell to the ground beyond his reach.
Neville, seeing Spike move, did the only thing he could think of, which was tackle Wormtail to the ground. Ginny squirted loose from his hold and dove for safety.
On the far side, Voldemort shouted the word "ABEO!" and disappeared. Angel doubled over, something hard impacting with his crotch, and let go of Voldemort and dropped his sword. Buffy rushed to help, but took an invisible elbow to the chin and had the wand snatched from her grasp.
The same spell rang out twice more, and Wormtail and Malfoy vanished from view. They heard Voldemort call out another unfamiliar spell, and suddenly Spike lost his grip on Malfoy and Neville lost his grip on Wormtail. The sounds of labored breathing and footsteps quickly faded away into the darkness.
"Dammit!" Spike shouted. "You worthless bastards! Get your asses back here!" He looked at Angel and Sirius. "We track them, yeah?"
"Don't," Giles ordered. "There could be an ambush set up back there. A number of the Death Eaters already fled that way. And they probably have a portal erected at the edge of the grounds – it's the only way I can imagine they could bring those kinds of numbers here. I wish Professor Dumbledore were here - we need to approach this very carefully. Buffy, are you … Buffy?"
Buffy had already dashed to Willow, who was kneeling by Grey's side and crying. Jess was next to her, the tears dripping down her face as well. She looked at Buffy, her eyes vibrant with pain.
"He's almost dead, Slayer."
Willow placed her hands on his chest. Its movement was so small she almost missed it.
"What now?" she asked Tara.
"Just like I told you, sweetie. You can do it."
She began to chant. Tara put a hand on top of Willow's right, and Jess did the same on top of her left. All four hands started to glow as the other two picked up the rhythm.
The intensity of the chanting grew; Willow felt the warmth of the healing magic flow through her more and more. She realized it was working just as it was meant to.
"First time for everything," she said quietly. Buffy watched in awe as the glow moved up her arms and for a single instant covered Willow's entire body. When it receded, her hair was red again and her skin had returned to normal.
Another thirty seconds and the glow faded from her hands.
"Best we can do for now," Jess said. "We need to get him to Pomfrey; she can do more than us."
"But will it be enough?" Willow asked no one in particular.
*******************************************************
[Author's Note]
::Exhale:: And thus ends the whole 'Not Without a Fight' storyline (though not FTGF, still a few more things to do before we say goodnight). First off, let me say I'm sorry for how long its taken to do this part. Hopefully, not too many people were discouraged into thinking I had given up. Definitely not. But the middle section of this whole arc gave me fits. I started these chapters 6 weeks ago, if you can believe it, and I knew exactly how I wanted it to end. I just couldn't get there. Argh.
So where am I headed with this, besides clueing you in to the not terribly exciting blocked process of writing? Nowhere. By the time I was done, I got in everything I wanted to, which was good. Spike kicking minotaur ass. Ron and Harry trying a spell without wands. Buffy telling Voldemort he looked like Skeletor. Good times.
Anyway, there's lots more I want to say, but I'll save it for the wrapup piece I'm going to stick at the end. (and if this goes to 90 chapters I will, to borrow from one of the great philosophers of our generation, have a cow, man). Just know that these 8 chapters were the hardest for me to write of the entire story (which is I think 200+ pages now. Yikes.)
That said, I would ask this one boon of all of you who have invested so much time getting to the point where you're reading this – PLEASE take the 30 seconds to let me know what you thought of this particular set of chapters (74-81). If you loved it, or even liked it a fair bit, that's grand. Say so (and thank you a thousand times for your kindness). If you hated it with a fiery passion normally reserved for llamas (watch out, they spit), fine. Say so (but for those, please say why, so I don't make the same mistake, or at least so I know what it was, in the future – random spewing of nastiness and vulgarities will be met with some dissatisfaction).
Once again, though, thanks to all of you who have read this far. It means more to me than you can imagine that you spend this much time reading something that came from my brain.
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