Catastrophe
by
Disclaimer: I don't claim. Not mine. Bow to Joss Whedon.
Author's Note: Feedback may decide whether I finish this, so please tell me if you loved it, hated it, or somewhere in between!
Summary: An AU version of the events after the 5/15/01 BtVS episode. (Right after 'Spiral')
Rating: PG, so far.
Spike was gone, fetching his sire and any man, or demon, power that he could to help fight Glory when the catastrophe hit. It wasn't until hours after the battle occurred that he made his return to Sunnydale, only to find the area decimated.
And all for naught. He hadn't found Angel, or any of his crowd. He didn't have any idea where they were, but knowing his crowd, probably off on some weird mission in another dimension. But Spike didn't have time for the problems of another dimension. He and the Slayerettes had their own.
It was when his car grew close, and Spike's sensitive vampiric nostrils detected the faint trail of smoke that he grew worried. Buffy was unsure about her ability to defeat Glory, but Spike had been certain that the Slayerettes had the brains, if not the brawn, to defeat 'The Beast'.
His thoughts to and from Los Angeles had been mostly of Dawn. Man, that girl had it rough. Teenage angst, and being the Slayer's sister wasn't enough, now she had to find out that she wasn't real, and that a demon-god wanted to kill her, and create a hell on earth. He knew he was supposed to despise humans, but he couldn't help it. He'd grown fond of the Slayer's baby sis.
The hundred-some-odd year old vampire put his foot to the floor, and held it there. The perfectly nice, but apparently without great acceleration capabilities car that he'd borrowed from Xander sputtered, but picked up a faster pace willing enough. Spike took the corners like a race car driver, earning several shouted obscenities from the windows of passing cars in his haste to reach the Hellmouth.
When he pulled into the outskirts of Sunnydale, Spike could have sworn his heart beat once at the pure terror that coursed through his undead body. Sunnydale truly looked like a Hellmouth.
Where Spike was at, buildings were toppled, but it only looked like a huge trash-pile. He couldn't navigate the car through it, so instead, he jumped out and climbed on top of the highest pile of junk for a better view. His chosen heap of rubble didn't appear extremely stable, but he didn't fear falling. After all, there were some perks to being a vampire, even one with a chip in his head.
It was night, of course, and he ordinarily he wouldn't have been able to see very far. But now, from his vantage point, Spike could see that the dull glow in the sky was in fact a bright yellowish-orange color, and it emanated from numerous large fires spread amongst the city.
There was a faint rush of air, and the crackle of the wild-burning flames, but all else was silent. He supposed that someone, somewhere had to have figured it out, and sent help, but Sunnydale, for all its appearance as a normal suburban southern California town, was nearly an hour from the nearest town.
When Spike jumped off the heap of rubble, he noticed a large crack in the earth. So, he thought, that's what did it. An earthquake. But it must have been supernatural, or other cities would have felt it, and there would have been rescue helicopters and other forces here hours ago.
The first thought on Spike's mind after he took all this in, was the Scoobies. Spike couldn't really call them his friends, but they were the closest thing that he had. And he was still madly in love with Buffy, despite her utter rejection. None of them were too bad, and Spike had a genuine fondness for Dawn.
Cursing, Spike sprinted for Xander's car, grabbed anything that he thought might be of use, and headed into the blazing city. A blanket, all the water he could find, the first aid kit, some ropes and a fire extinguisher ranked among the supplies cradled in the vampire's arms, and for once, he was truly glad he was a demon.
He wondered where to go first, and then decided that he'd just work through the Scoobies' usual locales in the order he came upon them. The first place he ran into was the Summers' house.
Not really expecting anyone, it was only nine-thirty at night, and Buffy and her crew would have been out, he just the same, kicked in the door, and yelled. "Buffy! Niblet, can you hear me?"
He would have ventured inside to check and see if either of them was unconscious, but it wasn't possible. His invite had been revoked, and there was no one home to invite him in now. He cursed again, and decided that they probably weren't there, anyway.
Next up was Giles' place, and then Xander and Anya's. Neither of them yielded anyone who could speak, but Spike wasn't too surprised. He was willing to bet he'd find most of them at the magic shop, where they'd most likely been looking for more information about Glory.
As Spike loped nearer to the Magic Box, he sucked in a deep breath he didn't need at the sight, and immediately started to cough and spit. The smoke was thick in this area, although Giles' eccentric little shop wasn't actually on fire. Yet.
The vampire straightened up from where he'd doubled over, gasping, and headed fearlessly into what was left of the store. What he saw shocked him.
The Scoobies were there, all right. But if any of them had survived, he would be amazed.
Forcing himself to be objective, while his inner self was meanwhile screaming to him to find Buffy and Dawn, Spike started from the people closest to the door, and made a quick, impersonal exam of each of them.
Closest to the door was Willow's limp body, a long, deep, bloody gash evident on her head. Beside her, lay the piece of concrete from the roof that had obviously hit her. Spike suspected that she'd been hit first, or at least quickly, because if not, her magical expertise could easily have been put to use creating a barrier.
Beside her lay Tara, facedown on the floor, still and quiet with the cast on her wrist cracked open. A piece of rubble similar to the one that had fallen on Willow, rested on her back. Her body was bent oddly, and from the angle, Spike guessed that her spine was broken. The extreme angle probably meant that it had severed her spinal cord, too.
Bending down, he pressed cold, dead fingers to each of their necks, and wasn't surprised to feel nothing. Willow, he knew, had died from the head injury, and Tara, he wasn't sure. But he was sure that there was nothing he could do for them, and there could possibly be others alive in this building who could benefit from his help.
Pushing aside the huge chunks of building that he encountered, because the Magic Box had collapsed in on itself just behind the door, it seemed, Spike continued his search, mindless of nothing besides the simple need to find Xander, Anya, Giles and Buffy. After that, he'd deal with looking for Dawn.
Halfway through the store, he found Giles, part-way behind the counter, and the sight of his crushed body almost made Spike look away. But he was relentless, and his search came to a rewarding almost-end when he discovered Xander's unconscious form, sprawled over the top of a whimpering Anya, both under the counter where it had fallen.
Anya was in shock, Spike knew, but she would recover. He quickly checked on Xander, and was surprisingly relieved to find him still breathing. Looking him over, Spike couldn't find any visible injuries on the dark-haired young man, and decided to leave them for a moment while searching out his prize.
Fighting his way to the training room, Spike pushed open the door. It didn't go easily, there was rock stacked on the other side, too. Using all of his vampiric muscles, the platinum-blond haired demon managed to wrestle the rubble out of his way, and tear through the room like a whirlwind in search of the Slayer.
It was slow going, though. He was only one person, and despite the added strength, it still required time, time that he didn't have, to dig through the room piece by piece. In desperation, he began to call the Slayer's name. "Buffy! Love, can you hear me?"
In this manner, he continued until he was halfway through the room. Then, during a pause in the noise he was making, Spike heard a faint whisper of a voice. "Spike?" It breathed.
Spike fought his way desperately though the bits of building that piled up on what used to be the only magic shop in town, toward the sound of his beloved's voice.
Digging her out proved to only take a few minutes, and when Spike saw her blond locks weaving slowly with the movement of her head, he internally rejoiced. Outside, though, he was fully aware of the dangers. "Slayer, don't move."
"What?" Buffy's voice was still whisper-thin, but it was there, and growing stronger as Spike lifted the weight off her chest.
"Don't move. Don't move anything, not even a finger until I get you out of there, and make sure you don't have any back or neck injuries."
Buffy's soft, and now soot-covered hair stopped its slow waves, and Spike almost asked her to start again. Instead, he worked double-time to uncover her.
"I can't feel my legs," Buffy confessed in that same soft voice. Again, Spike thought he felt his heart beat once.
To keep from scaring the Slayer, Spike attempted to rationalize. "There's a lot of weight on them. It's possible that they just went numb."
Buffy was silent for a long moment. Then Spike had her head out, and she looked so awful, but so beautiful. Without thought, he swooped down and kissed her softly on the lips before unearthing the rest of her body.
Once she was exposed, Spike felt around. Being a vampire had given him a long life in which to observe, and he knew a little more about medicine than the average idiot, he hoped.
He didn't feel any serious injuries, and Buffy, besides complaining about a broken rib or two, discovered that she could wiggle her fingers and toes, and even move her legs a little. But when she went to stand, she discovered two things: That they wouldn't support her, and that her ankle was probably broken.
Now that she was sitting down and assessed, she asked about the others. "Where are they?" She asked.
Spike looked at the ground. "Out there." He pointed to the front of the rubble-filled store.
"How are they?" She asked impatiently.
Spike sighed. "The witches... and the Watcher... didn't make it."
Buffy ducked her head, and tears rolled from her eyes, down her cheeks. "Xander and Anya?" She managed.
"I think they'll be okay. Anya's in shock, Xander was unconscious when I found him, but not badly hurt."
Buffy suddenly looked up with fire in her eyes, and Spike realized that the Slayer had taken over, and for now, Buffy was hidden, deep in recesses of a warrior's mind. "Dawn," She stated. "We have to find Dawn."
"I know. I'll find her."
Buffy didn't even acknowledge that he'd spoken. "If this happened, instead of the portal opening, Glory must have messed up somehow. So Dawn might still be alive."
Spike put an arm on her shoulder. "I'll find her, Slayer. I promise."
Buffy looked up. "You'll find her? I'm her sister, and what's more, I'm the Slayer!"
"You can't walk, pet."
Buffy looked subdued a little, and Spike reached down, and scooped her up in his strong arms. Even super-strong, she was little, and not at all hard for him to carry.
Making their way slowly though the shop, Spike carried her back to where he'd left Xander and Anya. The ex-demon was still whimpering a little, but Xander was awake, if groggy, and looking around a little.
Spike checked on them, and then looked out the window. "Ordinarily, I'd tell all of you not to move, but the fire's coming this way, and if we don't move now, we'll all be burnt to a crisp."
He looked from Xander to Anya, and back again. "Can both of you walk?" He asked.
Anya nodded, and Xander picked his way to his feet, balancing unsteadily on shaky legs, but managing. Spike moved to pick up Buffy, but she fought him.
"I can walk!"
The vampire backed off. "Okay, okay, Slayer!" He folded his arms and stood stock still while Buffy tried to get her disobedient legs under her.
Eventually, she gave up, and settled down. Spike took this as his cue, and scooped her up, taking a brisk pace out of the shop and away from the fire. Xander and Anya both stopped and gasped, falling to their knees when they saw the two wiccas' bodies, and Giles' marred almost to the point of being unrecognizable, but Spike pushed them on, reminding everyone that they'd end up like that if they didn't get out of the soon-to-be burning building.
Buffy's face reflected her shock as they left the shop, and Spike wished there was something he could do, but in truth, there wasn't, and they had to get out of there. So, he kept up a steady pace, only slowing when Xander or Anya couldn't keep up with him on the sometimes-unsteady rubble that buried the streets and lawns.
Once they reached the car, which took a hour or more, Spike deposited Buffy in the front seat, left Xander and Anya, equally as quiet with shock as the Slayer, and some water in it. He once again gathered the remainder of the stuff, and headed out into the city, searching for the one missing member of the Scooby gang.
Searching the town without the faintest idea where to look took too long, and Spike had to retreat under his blanket to return to the car, taking with him, the little bit of edible food he'd found in the demolished supermarket.
Giving the food to Buffy, Xander and Anya, he hastily constructed a lean-to out of the nearest rubble, and draped it with his blankets. Nestling himself inside, he told Buffy he was going to sleep, and would search for Dawn again at sunset. She acknowledged him with a barely perceptible nod, and didn't bother to make eye contact with him, or actually, to move her head at all.
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