((Thanks to my wonderful Beta reader, Magus, this chapter might never have
left stream of consciousness if it weren't for him))
Chapter 17: Aware
The bulky demon before Buffy loosed a gurgling roar, as her axe swung effortlessly into its face, neck, and chest, dividing it in two. Her stylish yet affordable steel-toed boot flew into its abdomen, dislodging its ruin from her path. She weaved through the fray, hacking, dodging, and cleaving through the variety of demons pouring forth from the interdimensional rift open less than fifty yards in front of her. Her breathing was steady, labored. She exuded confidence and raw determination, though still this was no time for witty puns. Her energy, her focus, was centered on: *Kill, press on, kill. . .Reach the source, the First, and destroy it (How?) Doesn't matter. Kill, press on. . .*
Her friends, her family and fellow warriors, were all positioned around the portal. Buffy was aware of Willow at her left, her eyes blackened from the energy she was absorbing from the rift in an attempt to contain the energy that flowed freely from the Hellmouth and thus keep the desperate fight centered in this one place. *For now at least.*
Xander and Anya, vaguely registering past the sweat and red haze in her peripherals, were to her upper right tackling a beast together. Xander's left arm hanging limply at his side, a gash of red bleeding through his shirt, he barely noticed. They worked in quirky unison to hamstring and disable, and to keep each other alive. "Eww, Xander, its oozing on me, get it off." She heard Anya whine, any other time, any other place the whole image would have brought a smile to her face. Now it could only push her forward and increase her sense of desperation.
The potentials were scattered about, fighting in pockets to stay alive. *God, so many of them* Buffy allowed her thoughts to trail, taking assessment of her compatriots. . . to the right two more of the army of girls had fallen; *Are they still breathing?* Andrew had moved them from the heart of the fight and was attempting a glamour to conceal them. He appeared strained and she doubted it would hold. Another half dozen or so could not be accounted for.
On the other side of the gulf before her fought Angel and Faith. A trickle of blood seeping into Faith's eye from a sizable gash in her forehead was wiped away and forgotten. Massacring their way through the army of hell beasts that had made the unfortunate decision to stumble in their direction. The two redeemed souls fought quick and brutally matching growls reverberating from both of their throats as each one of their enemies were sliced, dispensed, and quickly replaced by two more.
She left Spike holding the line; tackling and tearing with a frenetic, bestial ferocity, as many swollen throats and malformed limbs as he could hold onto at once. He was slowly being surrounded with still twitching limbs and reeking hunks, as the demon servants of the First broke upon him like a wave. The demon buried in him wading at the surface, bathing in the violence all around, causing the intensity of Spike's attacks to increase with each demon head severed. His blue eyes now burning gold as he ripped another arm from its owner's socket.
Dawn and Amanda were fighting back to back behind Spike, keeping the cheap shots and stragglers at bay. Kennedy was not far from Willow; working feverishly to protect her witch, ensuring her spells could not be interrupted.
She pictured Giles, calm and cool, lecturing about focus and temperament. In a spasm of panic she thought; *Where's Giles!?!* It cost her a precious moment (taking a vicious right hook to the eye) to locate him: not far from Xander and Anya with Wood keeping the Watcher blessedly free of demon attacks, chanting counter to Willow to filter the negative energy and keep her pure keep her sane.
The strain was beginning to show on Giles. His temples pounded, glasses fogged, and sweat drenched his coat. *Got to keep it contained. . .must keep going. . .* An image of Yoda flashed through his mind, threatening to break his concentration. *Damn it*, he was spending too much time around Andrew. *When this is over, Andrew, I, and a memory charm will have to have a discussion.*
Buffy pushed forward, dodging lethal strikes and rolling with glancing blows, weaving and falling back at need to keep her movement towards the rift. She caught sight of the First. It was positioned near the opening of the portal, a haughty look of pure ecstasy laid placidly on its assumed face. The current face it wore, in mockery of the tragic history the Scooby gang shared, was Buffy's. It saturated the ground and air with a sense of pure loathing, drawing all warmth and humor into it like a sour void. It was fertilizing the world for its children, and taking joy in pealing away nature, revealing the utter chaos that bubbled just under the skin. In its arrogance and revelry, it was caught off guard by the severed demon head that flew from Dawn's opponent *When did she get so good?*, and backed its arm into the crackling output rushing from the trench in the ground.
What Buffy could not take notice of, due to the baker's dozen of demons that launched at her backside, was the look of raw agony on the First's semblance. Spike, kicking a writhing pile of scales and horns into the edge of the bubble, became aware of how these moments were connected. In a moment it had clicked. The energy the First was releasing was a source of sustenance to all evil entities *the First the greatest of them all*, creating a microcosm of unfettered chaos. But it was also solidifying the First, calcifying its essence in a soft shell of flesh and bone. Making it real. *Vulnerable* His own demon was engorged, licked its lips at this realization. *Weakness* There were limits to eternity. The First could be harmed. Could be killed!
No sooner than Spike's awareness had invaded his mind, seemingly stimulated from some abstract outside source, than his body reacted. He charged full force through the onslaught, issuing a feral growl from his cracked lips. As he launched at the disoriented *Buffy* the First, he briefly considered how foolish he would look passing through *her* it and slamming into a tree. He was almost thrown off of his track when he actually made contact. . .almost. The First, with all of its cosmic awareness, never saw it coming.
Spike's attack sent them reeling, spiraling backwards, into the depths of the chasm behind them.
------------------ --------------------------------------------------------- -------------------
Buffy took immediate notice when she'd heard Spike's growl. She'd have known it in a zoo at feeding time. She separated her opponent from its head and felt it slough off of her body like a vile second skin, *Eww* just in time to see Spike make contact with the First. She watched in paralyzed stupor as the two tumbled backward into the rift. Spike's body tumbled out of view. *This can't be happening* Unable to suppress it any longer, she screamed.
It seemed time stood still at that moment. The world in chaos around her had slowed to a crawl as her scream entwined with that of the First's. Slowly the world began to spin again. (In reverse?) The energy that had been seething forth form the chasm was suddenly and violently being sucked back down. The earth trembled, as if there rode a cavalry a thousand strong. Mere moments passed, it seemed. The gash that had cut through the ground was sealed, gone. (Healed?) The Earth sighed, as if taking a breath of relief.or dealing with really bad heartburn. The last of the demons slowly died off as their energy source was severed. A few halves skittered and hopped about where the gash had been, remnants of those few demons that'd tried and failed to escape back into the schism.
Everything had gone quiet. Everyone was aware that something had happened, but no one could be sure of what. The fight was over; or so it appeared. Besides Buffy, only Andrew and Kennedy had caught sight of what Spike's last action had been. They all looked on, as if in a dream, as Buffy moved languidly forward, towards where her enemy and (lover?) comrade had fallen. She let her axe drag limply behind her as she slumped forward to the ground. Her head fell forward, into her grime encrusted hands. She indulged in something she hadn't allowed herself the luxury of since she'd been returned to the world. She openly and unabashedly sobbed.
------------ --------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------
As they tumbled into the portal, energy flowed between them, using them as conductors. Spike watched the face of the first evil twist and contort into the faces of thousands of long dead souls. At first he could only be aware of the blinding pain flowing around and through him. He was barely cognizant of his own horrified scream, strained and nearly drowned out by that of the First.
For whatever span of time that followed (minutes, hours, seconds.time seemed suddenly an absurd idea) he watched through closed lids as the now corporeal being before him was torn asunder, its body binding with the blinding electricity that flowed through them both. Finally, it was no more. *Could it've been this easy?*
He became aware suddenly of one thing; the sound of that sweet girl's voice reverberating in his ears, 'She'll tell you, someday she'll tell you.' The pain seemed a distant memory, his whole body smiled for that one brief moment with that thought passing through his mind. Bitterly, he lamented; *Such a pity I won't get to hear her say it. . .* Then the void claimed Spike, and he was aware no more. . .
Chapter 17: Aware
The bulky demon before Buffy loosed a gurgling roar, as her axe swung effortlessly into its face, neck, and chest, dividing it in two. Her stylish yet affordable steel-toed boot flew into its abdomen, dislodging its ruin from her path. She weaved through the fray, hacking, dodging, and cleaving through the variety of demons pouring forth from the interdimensional rift open less than fifty yards in front of her. Her breathing was steady, labored. She exuded confidence and raw determination, though still this was no time for witty puns. Her energy, her focus, was centered on: *Kill, press on, kill. . .Reach the source, the First, and destroy it (How?) Doesn't matter. Kill, press on. . .*
Her friends, her family and fellow warriors, were all positioned around the portal. Buffy was aware of Willow at her left, her eyes blackened from the energy she was absorbing from the rift in an attempt to contain the energy that flowed freely from the Hellmouth and thus keep the desperate fight centered in this one place. *For now at least.*
Xander and Anya, vaguely registering past the sweat and red haze in her peripherals, were to her upper right tackling a beast together. Xander's left arm hanging limply at his side, a gash of red bleeding through his shirt, he barely noticed. They worked in quirky unison to hamstring and disable, and to keep each other alive. "Eww, Xander, its oozing on me, get it off." She heard Anya whine, any other time, any other place the whole image would have brought a smile to her face. Now it could only push her forward and increase her sense of desperation.
The potentials were scattered about, fighting in pockets to stay alive. *God, so many of them* Buffy allowed her thoughts to trail, taking assessment of her compatriots. . . to the right two more of the army of girls had fallen; *Are they still breathing?* Andrew had moved them from the heart of the fight and was attempting a glamour to conceal them. He appeared strained and she doubted it would hold. Another half dozen or so could not be accounted for.
On the other side of the gulf before her fought Angel and Faith. A trickle of blood seeping into Faith's eye from a sizable gash in her forehead was wiped away and forgotten. Massacring their way through the army of hell beasts that had made the unfortunate decision to stumble in their direction. The two redeemed souls fought quick and brutally matching growls reverberating from both of their throats as each one of their enemies were sliced, dispensed, and quickly replaced by two more.
She left Spike holding the line; tackling and tearing with a frenetic, bestial ferocity, as many swollen throats and malformed limbs as he could hold onto at once. He was slowly being surrounded with still twitching limbs and reeking hunks, as the demon servants of the First broke upon him like a wave. The demon buried in him wading at the surface, bathing in the violence all around, causing the intensity of Spike's attacks to increase with each demon head severed. His blue eyes now burning gold as he ripped another arm from its owner's socket.
Dawn and Amanda were fighting back to back behind Spike, keeping the cheap shots and stragglers at bay. Kennedy was not far from Willow; working feverishly to protect her witch, ensuring her spells could not be interrupted.
She pictured Giles, calm and cool, lecturing about focus and temperament. In a spasm of panic she thought; *Where's Giles!?!* It cost her a precious moment (taking a vicious right hook to the eye) to locate him: not far from Xander and Anya with Wood keeping the Watcher blessedly free of demon attacks, chanting counter to Willow to filter the negative energy and keep her pure keep her sane.
The strain was beginning to show on Giles. His temples pounded, glasses fogged, and sweat drenched his coat. *Got to keep it contained. . .must keep going. . .* An image of Yoda flashed through his mind, threatening to break his concentration. *Damn it*, he was spending too much time around Andrew. *When this is over, Andrew, I, and a memory charm will have to have a discussion.*
Buffy pushed forward, dodging lethal strikes and rolling with glancing blows, weaving and falling back at need to keep her movement towards the rift. She caught sight of the First. It was positioned near the opening of the portal, a haughty look of pure ecstasy laid placidly on its assumed face. The current face it wore, in mockery of the tragic history the Scooby gang shared, was Buffy's. It saturated the ground and air with a sense of pure loathing, drawing all warmth and humor into it like a sour void. It was fertilizing the world for its children, and taking joy in pealing away nature, revealing the utter chaos that bubbled just under the skin. In its arrogance and revelry, it was caught off guard by the severed demon head that flew from Dawn's opponent *When did she get so good?*, and backed its arm into the crackling output rushing from the trench in the ground.
What Buffy could not take notice of, due to the baker's dozen of demons that launched at her backside, was the look of raw agony on the First's semblance. Spike, kicking a writhing pile of scales and horns into the edge of the bubble, became aware of how these moments were connected. In a moment it had clicked. The energy the First was releasing was a source of sustenance to all evil entities *the First the greatest of them all*, creating a microcosm of unfettered chaos. But it was also solidifying the First, calcifying its essence in a soft shell of flesh and bone. Making it real. *Vulnerable* His own demon was engorged, licked its lips at this realization. *Weakness* There were limits to eternity. The First could be harmed. Could be killed!
No sooner than Spike's awareness had invaded his mind, seemingly stimulated from some abstract outside source, than his body reacted. He charged full force through the onslaught, issuing a feral growl from his cracked lips. As he launched at the disoriented *Buffy* the First, he briefly considered how foolish he would look passing through *her* it and slamming into a tree. He was almost thrown off of his track when he actually made contact. . .almost. The First, with all of its cosmic awareness, never saw it coming.
Spike's attack sent them reeling, spiraling backwards, into the depths of the chasm behind them.
------------------ --------------------------------------------------------- -------------------
Buffy took immediate notice when she'd heard Spike's growl. She'd have known it in a zoo at feeding time. She separated her opponent from its head and felt it slough off of her body like a vile second skin, *Eww* just in time to see Spike make contact with the First. She watched in paralyzed stupor as the two tumbled backward into the rift. Spike's body tumbled out of view. *This can't be happening* Unable to suppress it any longer, she screamed.
It seemed time stood still at that moment. The world in chaos around her had slowed to a crawl as her scream entwined with that of the First's. Slowly the world began to spin again. (In reverse?) The energy that had been seething forth form the chasm was suddenly and violently being sucked back down. The earth trembled, as if there rode a cavalry a thousand strong. Mere moments passed, it seemed. The gash that had cut through the ground was sealed, gone. (Healed?) The Earth sighed, as if taking a breath of relief.or dealing with really bad heartburn. The last of the demons slowly died off as their energy source was severed. A few halves skittered and hopped about where the gash had been, remnants of those few demons that'd tried and failed to escape back into the schism.
Everything had gone quiet. Everyone was aware that something had happened, but no one could be sure of what. The fight was over; or so it appeared. Besides Buffy, only Andrew and Kennedy had caught sight of what Spike's last action had been. They all looked on, as if in a dream, as Buffy moved languidly forward, towards where her enemy and (lover?) comrade had fallen. She let her axe drag limply behind her as she slumped forward to the ground. Her head fell forward, into her grime encrusted hands. She indulged in something she hadn't allowed herself the luxury of since she'd been returned to the world. She openly and unabashedly sobbed.
------------ --------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------
As they tumbled into the portal, energy flowed between them, using them as conductors. Spike watched the face of the first evil twist and contort into the faces of thousands of long dead souls. At first he could only be aware of the blinding pain flowing around and through him. He was barely cognizant of his own horrified scream, strained and nearly drowned out by that of the First.
For whatever span of time that followed (minutes, hours, seconds.time seemed suddenly an absurd idea) he watched through closed lids as the now corporeal being before him was torn asunder, its body binding with the blinding electricity that flowed through them both. Finally, it was no more. *Could it've been this easy?*
He became aware suddenly of one thing; the sound of that sweet girl's voice reverberating in his ears, 'She'll tell you, someday she'll tell you.' The pain seemed a distant memory, his whole body smiled for that one brief moment with that thought passing through his mind. Bitterly, he lamented; *Such a pity I won't get to hear her say it. . .* Then the void claimed Spike, and he was aware no more. . .