Foreword: All characters belong to Joss Whedon and/or David Greenwalt. Also, I think I've gone crazy, because this is not something that I normally write. Anyway. This takes place in Buffy's seventh season, and Angel's fourth, up through both's third episode, (except for where Cordelia comes back and Angel's in love with her, because I don't like her) which is as far as I've seen. Old characters will be returning. The pairing situation is complicated, so I'll leave it a surprise. Enjoy. Shouldn't be too many spoilers, if any at all. Also, events from the Buffy books do factor in.
For Kathy, who doesn't even get it, but at least she's there to put up with it.
The Darkest Hour Before Dawn
Thirteen
An icy wind ripped through the mansion.
Arrayed down the front corridor were the Slayer and her friends, with Giles in the front, putting the finishing touches on the spell that opened the massive portal through to the Ghost Roads. Behind Giles were Connor, Buffy, Faith, and Spike, waiting. Further behind them were the rest of the occupants of the house, waiting, clinging to one another, all except for Angel, who stood in front of all the rest, his clothing whipped by the icy wind, his fingers moving, ready to reach out for Buffy.
Faith slowly stretched out her hand and took hold of Buffy's, gripping the blonde Slayer's hand tightly in her own. Buffy turned to look at the other Slayer, the one who existed because Buffy herself had died. Faith squeezed her hand tightly. Buffy could see that she was scared—beautiful, fearless Faith, scared. Buffy couldn't blame her.
On the other side of Faith stood Spike, looking down at his hand, where Faith gripped it tightly in her own. He looked at Buffy over the dark-haired Slayer's head. Buffy turned away from him. Connor stood on her other side, and she reached out and took the younger boy's hand, lacing her fingers with his and holding on, completing the chain. Connor looked at her, mildly startled.
The wind picked up, and Connor shivered, though he wore long sleeves. The clothes he wore were Xander's, and the pants were slightly large on his slender frame. The sneakers fit, but just barely. His hair flew into his eyes, and he shook his head, trying to clear his vision.
Next to him, Buffy took a deep breath, her blonde hair whipping into her face, the red sweater and army pants blowing taught over the front of her body. The stake in her pocket bumped against her hip as the wind whipped around her.
Faith was chewing on her lip next to Buffy, dressed all in leather, pants, jacket, boots, white t-shirt underneath the jacket. Her hands were sweating, clinging to Buffy's and Spike's hands. Her dark hair flew around her face, into Buffy's face, and back again.
Spike was the only one who showed no fear, his duster flying out behind him and making him look vaguely like Batman—if Batman had bleached blonde hair and wore ripped jeans and a skintight shirt underneath his cape. If Batman were a vampire.
"Incantantem Finite," Giles said, making one last symbol in the air with a candle. It hovered for a moment, then faded. "Now!" he cried, moving back.
As one, the Slayers moved forward, Connor and Spike moving with them. The tear in the fabric of the universe swallowed them up, and they were gone.
Angel sank to his knees in tears.
~`~
Darkness closed over them, darkness like plunging into a river made of melted ice. It pulled the breath from Faith's body, leaving no air to scream, no air to cry out. She couldn't feel, her body completely numb, unable to feel Spike's and Buffy's hands in hers.
Her feet hit solid ground, and she stumbled. Buffy's hand slipped out of hers, and Spike grabbed her, pulling her into his arms. She shuddered.
"Now what?" Connor asked, wrapping his arms around himself. "How do we find the dead slayer?"
"I am here," Lucy said, a wavering apparition before them. "It is good to see you again, Buffy, and Faith. And…" She turned to Spike. "This one has a soul, but this is not Angel."
"Spike's…. special." Buffy said.
"And you are the Vampire Child of the prophecy?" Lucy asked Connor.
"I guess," Connor said. "As far as I know, I'm the only child born to two vampires."
"Your mother's soul walks here, Connor," Lucy said.
The boy froze. "My mom?" Connor asked.
"Darla," Lucy said. "She will see you, in time. But I must tell you now, as time grows short. You cannot stop this evil, Buffy. Nor can you, Faith. When the time comes, you must run. If you do not, you will die, and that cannot happen. The most you can do is stay alive."
"Running away defeats their purpose," Connor said.
"It is your destiny to fight, Connor," Lucy said. "But Buffy and Faith must run. If they die, all will be lost."
"So that's it. We came here for you to tell us that, and that's it?" Faith asked.
"I can only tell you what I know," Lucy explained. Suddenly, the image flickered. "You must go," she said. "The First… they're coming."
The specter of Lucy Hanover, colonial Slayer, wavered and disappeared. Ghosts swirled around them. Faith screamed. Spike ducked down, covering Faith's body with his own. Connor grabbed Buffy's arm and pulled her out of the misty swirl of those long dead—and some not so long.
"How do we get out of here?" Connor yelled over the shrieking and moaning of the spirits. Buffy covered her ears, blocking out part of the screaming.
"I don't know!" Buffy cried. "The times I've been here before, there's always been a way off! We just have to walk until it lets us go!"
The flow of spirits subsided a little, and Spike stood, pulling Faith to her feet. He held onto her hand, and reached out for Buffy's hand.
"Then we're gonna walk," Spike said. "We're going to set off down this road, and we're going to walk until the bloody thing spits us out."
Buffy took Spike's hand, and took hold of Connor's. The four of them started walking through the cold and the darkness.