~*~*~*~*
You've got no idea what it's like on the other side. Where nothing is in control, nothing makes sense. There's just pain, and hate, and nothing you
do means anything.
-'Sanctuary'.
~*~*~*~*
BROKEN WORLD SERIES -
Part Ten: Into the Darkness
~*~*~*~*
*Welcome to Sunnydale.*
The words on the once cheerful green sign now stark and foreboding, seemed to mock Buffy as Spike drew the car down to a slower speed as they approached the barren outer suburbs two hours after leaving Los Angeles.
"Stop here", Willow directed sharply from the back seat.
The five of them gazed through the tinted windows of the Chrysler apprehensively. Buffy shivered.
Willow climbed out of the passenger seat, and reached inside her pocket. The utter emptiness of the town was disturbing. It was too silent. They hadn't encountered one single patrol group since they hit Route 17, and Buffy had always been given the impression entering into Sunnydale was a suicide attempt for anything moving around with a pulse.
No, something was wrong with this picture.
Willow pulled out a flashlight, and juggled it in her palm while removing a small thin canvas bag containing her supplies.
They had all followed her outside, and Buffy knew she wasn't the only one feeling the heat as everyone gazed around the deserted streets, twitching and shuffling nervously though not speaking their feelings aloud.
Angel took the flashlight from Willow's palm as it slipped between her fingers, and she shot him a small grateful smile.
"Okay", she said evenly. "This should show us exactly where the barrier is."
Spike cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah. About that". He gestured to the far- distant horizon beyond the tall, desolate houses up ahead. "Not too long 'til the sun does that peek-o-boo thing. Do we have a money-back guarantee you can get us in there. all parts still firmly attached. before dawn?"
Willow waved an impatient hand, removing a long thin canister from the bag. "Give me a minute, okay Spike?"
"Maybe that's the reason no one's around", Buffy mused quietly, arms chafing against her shoulders in an effort to ward off the sudden chill. "Sun an' all".
"Probably", Faith agreed, but her own dark eyes darted around warily.
Willow drew her hand inside the canister, and produced a handful of glittery, purple dust. Pursing her lips, she placed the bag against her feet, and began to sprinkle the powder over the air in front of her.
The atmosphere suddenly became solid, revealing a thick black wall in the space the dust touched on that shimmered in an out of existence in a flowing, swirling mass.
Willow nodded in satisfaction. "Like I thought", she announced. "It's a glamour spell protecting the outside of the barrier. Making it appear. normally, when in reality."
".There's no way to know what's actually on the other side?" Angel finished disbelievingly.
Willow sighed. "Nope."
"That would explain the complete lack of activity around here", Buffy said irritably. "There could be a whole stack of vampires just waiting to snack on us on the other side".
Spike shrugged. "Well, you said anything's supernatural can just duck straight on through, right Red?"
"That's right".
He grinned, and gave them a wide, encompassing salute. "See you later then".
Before anyone could react, the vampire stepped forward, and was devoured by the thick swirling black substance. Buffy's hand shot after him into the inky blackness, and her fingers latched onto something on the other side before she was sucked suddenly through as well.
The sensation was like being trapped inside a tar pit, and then she was released from the hold just as quickly and burst through on the opposite side. She drew in a shaky breath, unprepared for the sudden experience.
"Spike!" she exploded at him. She realised he hadn't made an effort to move, and slammed roughly into his back. "Ow. what the hell is.?"
Her mouth flew open. "Oh my God".
If the illusion the vampires had planted on the other side of the barrier had been bad, what she was confronted with now chilled her to the bone.
The streets of her hometown were ravaged beyond salvaging, houses trashed, glass and debris littering the once pristine front yards. Boards had been put up over the windows, perhaps in the early stages of the war when Sunnydale had yet to be fully occupied, but the job had been done hastily and she could see it had been abandoned long ago.
The once perfectly trimmed lawns were dead, the gardens overgrown, and some even partially burnt where the homes that had possessed them had been burnt to the ground and turned into charred out shells.
In fact, everything was dead; the entire town a blackened landscape.
It might have had something to do with the heavy black mist blotting out the night sky; and, ever conveniently, the sun.
"Now *that's* a neat trick", Spike murmured, lips pursing together as he gazed up at the sky in appreciation. "Powerful magic", he noted.
Despite her abject horror of the devastation of her town, she glanced at him sharply. "You've never been back?"
He frowned, and shot her a pointed look. "Never wanted to come back", he said flatly. He shrugged. "And even a vampire society has its rules. Sunnydale's restricted territory, luv".
She was just wondering exactly what this could mean when she felt someone tap her on the shoulder, and gazed around to Faith who had just emerged herself from the barrier, mouth open in incredulity.
"Holy shit."
"Where's Angel and Willow?" Buffy asked distractedly.
Faith cocked a thumb over her shoulder. "Rosenberg's workin' her last minute mojo", she explained, still looking slightly numb at the scene around them. As numb as someone like Faith could look, anyway. "Making sure Angel gets through bangers and mash-less, all that."
"Well, they better hurry", Spike said suddenly, eyes focused on the littered roadway ahead. "Because we've got company".
The two slayers followed his gaze.
A group of vampires were coasting slowly towards them in a dark blue Volvo, ominously silent in their approach. They hadn't spotted the three dark figures, a foot inside the vampire territory, but it wouldn't be long.
"The weapons", Buffy realised, inwardly cursing her own stupidity. "They're in the trunk".
Faith swore. "Great. What's the score? We gotta jam before they see us-"
"They've seen us", Spike said abruptly.
The car skidded to a halt, and shouts echoed around the barren streets while car doors slammed. The vampires clearly hadn't been expecting any early morning visitors, but unlike in Los Angeles, these vamps were highly trained and carried artillery obviously just in case this very situation ever arose.
"KILL THEM!" a voice roared above the rest.
"You heard the guy", Buffy muttered under her breath. She had no time to worry what had become of her lover and her best friend as she launched herself at the closest of vampires weaponless.
It took Buffy only a heartbeat to calculate the odds. They were in trouble.
Both feet flew out as she dove into the air, impacting with noses and foreheads and giving out a satisfying crack. She cocked her fist back into a right hook, countering with an elbow thrust, and kicking up her heel. Vampires flew back on all sides, but their advance kept coming, and they were stronger than what she was used to dealing with.
Spike let out a battle cry as he let loose his pent-up frustrations on the unlucky vampires, thrusting out with kicks and punches that were savage in their intent. He ducked blows and sprinted across the road surface with his coat flapping, before snapping off a branch from a nearby bush that was long dead without the sunlight to keep it thriving.
He had always wondered why talk about Sunnydale had remained so secretive in the past, and now he understood.
He plunged the makeshift stake into a vampire's heart, and whirled to check on the girls' progress.
Buffy was managing quite well on her own, but Faith looked to be in a spot of trouble. Contemplating whether or not to leave the slayer be and watch the bird struggle, finally he decided on self-preservation and ran forward.
A club cracked across Faith's back, and she cried out before staggering to her knees. A vampire stood over her, face expressionless, and drew his fist into her face.
Blood spurted across her lip, and Faith shot out a leg, kicking him to the ground. Another vampire took hold of her arm, and drove a vicious kick into her spine.
Then its eyes went wide and his lips dropped open, and his eyes darted down to the sharp piece of wood protruding through his chest before he disappeared in a cloud of dust.
Spike offered Faith a hand up, and she accepted it.
"No need to thank me for the save", he said sardonically. Faith ignored him.
"Where the hell are -"
Before she could even finish her sentence, bluish electricity shot past her face, and met with its target. Several vampires that had been on Buffy screamed in anguish as they caught alight, and hopped around frantically, rolling in the grass.
Willow lowered her hands to her sides, and gazed around sharply at her friends with Angel by her side.
"Is everyone all right?"
Spike gazed around, surprised. They had taken out all the vamps in record timing.
"Swell", Faith zinged, rubbing at her back.
Buffy ducked her head inside the vampires' abandoned vehicle, and withdrew a long, hand-held crossbow from the floor of the passenger seat.
"I am now".
She gazed around at what had become of Sunnydale, and felt some of that old authority come rushing back into her veins. She was in her own territory now, despite what the vampires wanted to believe. This was her town.
And she was getting it back.
"We need to split up", she decided abruptly. "Two teams. It's not going to take the vampires long to trace this."
She nodded to the blonde vampire. "Spike, take Willow and Faith and check your old haunts, anywhere we might gain information that wouldn't think suspiciously of you turning up in town. Angel and I will hide the car, then go to my house; see what we can turn up. We all need to meet back at Xander's apartment, okay?"
She eyed them carefully. "If anyone gets caught, the others are still here to do what we came for."
She cocked the crossbow.
"No matter what happens, I want Dawn out of this alive."
~*~*~*~*
God I would kill for a hot shower.
The absurd thought entered Dawn's mind as the war wagon rolled along, and she rocked unsteadily in the back, where her right arm was handcuffed to the door.
Of course any kind of shower was pretty much wishful thinking these days, where running water was a lost luxury, a fact all too demonstrated by her stoic, monosyllabic companions.
Wesley remained to be seen since their brief but alarming encounter back at that old building, and she was actually starting to wish for his company than the stony, emotionless guards she was forced to accompany now. It was nearly two hours ago they had embarked on this secret journey to some hidden location, and the large armoured van was without windows, so she couldn't look out to see where it was they were headed.
She would have remained clueless if she hadn't caught smidgens of conversation drift from the front seat.
". Ms. Morgan said to turn left at Route 17, and pass by the old drive-inn to get into town", one gruff voice instructed.
"What about the barrier? The kid isn't exactly anything special".
"She said it was taken care of. I just hope if we pass through she doesn't blow us all up or something."
Dawn tensed, and realisation hit her. Sunnydale. They were taking her to freaking Sunnydale.
Now not only was she being the target of yet another of her sister's demonic foes, she was being sucked right back into the life she had sworn to herself she would turn her back on at all costs.
Great.
Ten minutes later the van shuddered to a halt, and the vampire sitting across from her leaned over for only a moment to loosen her bindings. The doors to the back cabin screeched as they pulled open, and Dawn was shoved unceremoniously out into the darkness.
The night air was cold and struck her like a thousand knives after the stifling interior of the van. One hefty vampire grabbed her easily around the upper arm, and dragged her across the car park.
She struggled to recognise her surroundings, but Sunnydale was like a foreign landscape to her now, and anything but the home she had known for seven years of her life. The car park didn't look at all familiar, though the building she was being pulled towards on stumbling heels looked like it had once been a conservative, strict government structure.
It struck her like a blow. It was City Hall.
God. The building was charred on the outside, and faded and grey. The atrium outside that had once been blooming with the pride and joy of the town's stately officials was overgrown and deadened, and the foliage clung over the railing to the front doorway and gave it a distinctly Dracula's castle-like ambience. Of course she had never seen Dracula's castle, but she had to assume that was what it had looked like.
At that moment Dawn knew for sure she never wanted to find out what the rest of the town looked like. But she might have to. Despite Wesley's words, she wasn't as thoroughly convinced that Buffy would come for her, and she wasn't about to wait around until she did.
She had never been inside City Hall, but the front lobby was crumbling and badly in need of structural repairs. The vampire's grip on her arm tightened forcefully, and he gave a short nod to the armed vampire standing guard by the old administration's desk before turning down a darkened corridor.
Dawn stumbled blindly beside him, unwilling to trust in his supernatural sight to see her through the darkness unscathed. At last they reached an office door at the end of the hall, and he shoved her inside, barely pausing to eye her over with distaste.
"Price'll be along in a few hours. Don't go trying anything, princess. You're bringing the slayer into our territory now, and not many vamps are gonna like you for it".
His breath struck her face, and she took a step back, face twisting in disgust. Vamp-detail might have been Ivy's thing, but the girl was a slut, and that wasn't her deal.
She wasn't like her sister.
He chuckled without humour, and started back out the door. "Don't worry, sugar. I like my girls cold".
He slammed the door behind him, and the plasterboard rattled. Dawn was overcome with an uncontrollable shiver. She waited five whole minutes before she was sure there were no sounds indicating anything nearby, and then scuttled across the room and to the window. It was boarded up, and after a few futile attempts she broke at least half of her fingernails trying to wedge it off, but it was secured tight. After checking any other possible route of escape, Dawn was forced to face the facts. She was sealed in tight.
She let out a howl of frustration, and sagged into a ball under the window, burying her face in her hands. Was this it? Was this all her life was going to be, an end no one would notice, an end no one would miss? The year she turned fourteen and discovered she was something more powerful that the slayer itself seemed like so long ago now, nothing but a distant dream.
Spike, in his usual way, had been right. She was nothing, and no one would care if she dropped dead of heart failure.
And that just gave her an idea.
~*~*~*~*
"Where the hell are you taking us, Blondie?"
Faith's suspicious voice drifted up to Spike, and he struggled to ignore it as he continued to stalk down the small suburban street towards his destination. It gave him a small sliver of satisfaction to hear the bitch and Red scramble on the footpath to keep up, and that grin lasted on his face a full thirty seconds before Faith's grip on his arm brought him abruptly to a halt.
"Hey! I find you're playing us, and there's gonna be a whoopin'".
Spike sneered, eyeing her over in unabashed distaste. "Count on it".
"Um, okay, people", Willow cut in, stepping up to both of them with a look of immense annoyance clouding her face. "Can we maybe save the bout of ass kicking entertainment 'til later? Like when we're not actively struggling to save a world here? Again."
A sneer tugged at Faith's face, but she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "Sure, Sabrina. Whatever has your yennin'".
"I'll take that as a agreement", Willow responded acridly. She was still peeved at Buffy for leaving her alone with the bickersons. If they didn't get to wherever they were going soon, she was tempted to just let them go at an all-and-out smackdown and be done with it. At least then she'd have one less to annoy the crap out of her.
Spike turned from them both, not in the least un-annoyed himself, particularly with the fact that as they spoke Buffy and Angel were enjoying some quality 'alone time'. He sauntered down the street, eyes sweeping the darkened landscape before cutting a sharp corner through someone's backyard. It was a trip he'd made many a time before, at least pre-chip and pre-Scooby. He got the impression though the town was an exclusive vamp survivor island, his old mate Gerry might still be in the neighbourhood, lying as low as he ever did.
Without waiting to see if Willow and Faith were following, he launched himself over the yard's back fence. The house was still there, darkened and seemingly empty. Spike started quietly across the yellowing lawn, and his fingers latched silently around the back door handle.
The door made an impossibly loud groaning as it opened, and his vampiric senses immediately adjusted to the gloom. Something brushed against his back, and he glanced around in time to see Faith slip into the house beside him.
He motioned his head forward and to the left, and the brunette slayer nodded and started gracefully ahead. Spike paused only a moment to admire her cat-like fluency, and her feminine curves as she twisted around the corner, which he knew from memory led to the second floor staircase. But Gerry was the type to stick to routine, and a vampire invasion and permanent midnight weren't factors about to dissuade him from his nightly whisky in the basement. Spike knew that was where he'd be.
He felt Willow come to a halt at his side, and inwardly sighed, knowing he wasn't going to shake her. He started straight for the basement door, and sure enough, it was half open, and the sounds of what was presumedly Gerry shuffling around in his cabinet met Spike's ears. Briefly allowing himself a moment to praise his good instincts, Spike's hand slid across the handrail as he moved soundlessly down the stairs.
"Gerry, mate. Long time no see".
His chubby fingers were fastened around the candleholder before he raised it to the blonde vampire's face.
"*Spike*?"
Spike waved the flame irritably away from his face. "Oi! Watch it mate, you're singeing my eyebrows."
"Spike?" Gerry repeated in disbelief. "What the *hell* are you doing in town? Are you looking to sign your own death warrant, because I think you just went about doing the honours."
Spike sighed irritably. "Old business. Reason I'm 'ere, actually".
Gerry turned his scrutiny to Willow, just as Faith's voice echoed down the stairwell. "Hey. There's a killer collection of porn in one of the bedrooms, but nothing live. I think you've once again wasted our time-" she trailed off as she came into view. "What the fuck?"
Gerry glared at Spike, and his eyes flashed red. "You brought a slayer with you, man?"
Spike glowered at Faith. "Lovely. Now you've given him the big old scaredy".
"I'm not scared", Gerry snapped. "You have that slayer fetish, but they don't like *my* kind very much".
Willow frowned. "Um, maybe stupid question. But how did someone like you survive this long in Sunnydale? Vampires aren't the fondest of demons these days. Even. whatever demon you are."
Gerry rolled his eyes, and took a step against the wall. Almost immediately, he melted into it, and there was no apparent sign he was there at all. He detached himself again, and slumped onto a ratty armchair in the corner of the room. "Happy? Garuda demon, sweetheart, that's the preferred term. We can blend into any surroundings, and stay that way for hours, days if we have to".
Faith grinned wickedly. "What, like a chameleon?"
Gerry glared. "Fine, like a chameleon, if that will help you understand easier. Now maybe you can tell me what the hell you want before you give me away. I haven't survived here six long years only to have some British vampire, his slayer playtoy and their redhead side vixen to get me caught".
"Hey!" both girls cried indignantly.
Spike snorted. "Look 'ere, Gerry", he said impatiently. "I'm calling in a favour. I want to know where vamp central HQ is these days".
Gerry popped open his bottle of whiskey. "Why should I tell you?"
Spike rolled his eyes. "Need we be reminding of my lady friend over here", he said pointedly.
Faith pursed her lips, but remained silent.
Gerry's eyes darted towards her nervously. "Fine. Jeez, that blonde slayer was enough. You know I lost my bar tab at Willy's because of that chick?" He scoffed. "Slayers. Who needs 'em?"
He took a swig. "The place you're looking for is City Hall, man. That's where most of the vamps are packing. But there's the old high school. Yeah, they got some scary shit on that side of town. I were you, I'd stay the hell away".
Willow chewed her lip. "Guess it fits", she mused unhappily.
Faith cocked her head at the weaselly Garuda demon. "Anythin' else chameleon boy has to let fly?" she said warily.
Spike stepped towards Gerry. "Well?" he prompted warningly.
Gerry shrugged. "Just trust me when I say that high school is *bad* news. Get the feeling things are gettin' restless over there, know what I mean? They got torture chambers and all sorts of shit. You think those vamp prisons they have in the cities are heavy?" He shook his head, and shivered slightly. "Man, you ain't seen nothin'".
Spike turned to Faith and Willow. "Sounds like that might be our place."
Willow nodded anxiously. "Yeah. We should get over to Xander's apartment and meet up with the others. No doubt they're gonna want to check this out".
~*~*~*~*
The Summers home was still intact, though Buffy hardly held her surprise. After all that had happened to her in this war, she didn't quite believe the fates could spare her that one mercy.
Still, she wasn't about to complain. She strode in the kitchen door ahead of Angel, eyes peeled for any signs of the unusual. Angel's hand closed gently over her wrist, and she jumped at his sudden appearance at her side. Vampire or not, he could still move with the natural swiftness of a predator, and if he could sneak up on her right now, she figured her focus was a non-issue.
"I don't think there's anyone here", he murmured softly, and she could see his intense scrutiny of her as a car's headlights passed by outside the house.
Buffy sighed, drooping her head slightly. "No", she agreed quietly.
She knew he wanted to ask something else, but she turned from him before he could get the words out. Obviously sensing she was in no mood to be coddled, he settled for slinking quietly behind her, allowing her space, but not enough so that he couldn't reach her side in time if potential danger should arise.
He couldn't believe how perfect something so simple as *being* with her could feel. everything felt so perfect with her. So right. He didn't think he had ever known something so surely in his life as his love for this woman.
His eyes trailed around the darkened living room, wary of the apparent peace. Though there had been no signs of any vampire activity on their trek across the town, he wasn't so eager to believe in their safety. Certainly not when things between them were so well. He wouldn't admit as such, and in his long, previously eternal life he had had no need for childish superstition in his rationally orientated way of thinking, but he was starting to think things were too good to be true.
In all his life he had only ever experienced the sort of warm, enriched contentment he was feeling now twice, and the first time he had reverted to his soulless, abomination of an alter ego, the second his son had been wrenched from his arms by the man he trusted, and the possible escape from his darkened world had suddenly been twisted into something perverse.
He didn't think he could survive if he had to go through it all again.
Buffy disappeared up the flight of stairs, and he allowed her the brief moment alone with her childhood home. His own memories came flooding back as he glanced around. The living room had been looted, and most of Buffy, Dawn and Willow's belongings hadn't endured the years in their owner's absence. A thick sheen of dust covered everything in sight, giving it an appearance of great age.
The front door had somehow been broken in, and at least half of the windows were shattered, covering the floor beneath his feet in an array of brittle glass.
Though he had returned to Sunnydale a few brief times since his departure for Los Angeles, he had never actually returned to Buffy's home since she was in high school, at a time things had been so different between them, so strained and uncomfortable, as if the lie they were living was showing its cracks.
Things had changed so much since then, not just between them, but also in their lives. He realised with sadness that so much had happened in Buffy's life before and after the war that he would never be a part of.
Something glinted on the floor at his feet, and he bent into a crouch to retrieve it, even as he did hearing Buffy's barely perceivable sounds of movement on the floor above.
A frown marred his features as he placed the cool metal object in his hand.
It was a black cigarette lighter.
Not very distinguishable, but you couldn't live with someone and constantly be in their company for a dozen decades without noticing certain things about them. Like what cigarette lighter they used.
So technically he had no reason to be jealous. Buffy had been open with him about the whole Spike affair.. Well, once he got it out of her, anyway. She had told him. She slept with him, they had what vaguely resembled a relationship, though there was something about that she definitely wasn't mentioning.
Xander's reactions to Spike had more to do than a male friend's jealousy, there was something genuinely frightened in him about the blonde vampire's presences among their ranks, which led Angel to believe something he hated to believe about Buffy.. But the fact was the time he had spent with her these past few weeks had only reinforced his beliefs that she had allowed herself to be involved in an abusive relationship. Not only physically but mentally as well.
But if this was indeed the case, then why was it that because Spike had a soul he was suddenly welcomed back into the fold without a question, and damn the potential danger it could cause her and her family? And if the Scooby gang's undeniable familiarity with him was to be taken into consideration, he had been around more than could be considered necessary for the fight against the forces of evil.
Buffy had told him nothing had happened between them after his soul was returned. But why did he find that so very hard to believe?
"What are you doing?"
The soft, mildly curious voice of his love interrupted his line of thoughts, and he pulled abruptly up to his feet and whirled to face her. Instinctively, he held the cigarette lighter so it was concealed behind his back.
"Nothing", he said quickly. "Uh, just thought I saw something." He forced his features to read sheepish.
Buffy eyed him for a moment with a strange frown. Then she shrugged. "Okay. Well, the weapons have all been cleared out, surprise surprise. I guess a slayer's stash would probably be pretty useful in a really freaky way. It makes me think they can psychoanalyse me by my weaponry or something".
She held forth a small cross on a silver chain. "I did find this though".
Angel recognised it almost immediately. It was the same necklace he had given her the night they met.
"Vampires probably wouldn't have any use for it", he murmured quietly, eyes intently on hers.
Buffy smiled slightly. "No. I wouldn't think so".
Without a word, she slipped it on around her neck, pulling the clasp free from her hair. Angel felt a mild smile pulling at his lips.
Things were going to be okay between them. What did it matter as long as they were together now?
The past was in the past.
Right?
~*~*~*~*
Los Angeles, California
2004 Phase 1 of vampire invasion
Swords, knives, axes. Stakes, crosses, holy water.
All of it was loaded into the back of the truck with deft efficiency, everything from Angel's extensive weapon's cabinet transferred to the vehicle. Things like brass knuckles and antique swords with foreign names, things they had never needed before, but now had suddenly become so vital in this battle for survival. For their freedom.
Wesley dumped a heavy collection of Angel's priceless ancient swords into the back when Fred emerged from the courtyard, staggering from the weight of an impressive array of weaponry. Wesley scurried forward without a thought, quickly retrieving half of her burden and her pretty brown eyes darted up to his face in surprise.
"Thank you", she murmured after a long pause. She averted her eyes again quickly. He stifled a sigh.
"Angel and Charles seem to think this isn't enough", she commented, gesturing vaguely to the growing culmination of artillery.
Wesley ran a hand absently over his thickening stubble. "I'd have to agree with that assessment", he admitted.
Fred bobbed her head tersely. "They went by Charles' old group to see if they had anything we could use. Some reinforcements wouldn't have hurt", she added dryly.
Her curly brunette hair caught the light of the overhead lights when she moved it nervously. It was so silken and smooth, surely it wouldn't hurt if he just reached out and. He closed his weary grey eyes.
Deprived of sleep and he was sure his obsession with her was growing more and more each minute. Being this near her, in the office, every day, able to smell her sweet lavender scented shampoo, tantalizing him.. It was beginning to be unbearable.
"Are you afraid?"
His eyes flew open in surprise at her familiar Texan twang, surprised because she hadn't left as soon as she got the opportunity, instead she had stayed knowing just how dangerous it was, and not because of the countless vampire forces that were gathering as they spoke.
He cleared his throat, voice husky and low. He would be truthful with her, he knew that. Truthful because the brusque exterior he put on was only show and she would know the genuineness of his words.
"Yes".
Fred nodded at his simple, straightforward admission, seemingly satisfied. "Sometimes I think it isn't really happening", she murmured, ducking her chin. "That none of this can be real. Because if it is real and all of this is really happening, then we're all about to walk straight out into a war, and one we could never come back from".
She looked up at him then, and the expression in her eyes was such that she had never allowed herself to direct at him before, but earnest and pure in its meaning.
He couldn't allow himself to believe what he was really glimpsing.
"Wesley", Fred said, voice caressing him, lulling out his innermost feelings and threatening to bring them crashing to the surface. "All of this has made me think. I see Angel, how he's changed now this thing has started; now he knows Buffy might really be gone. He never got to tell her, Wesley, how much he loved her and now they finally have their chance. I don't want things to be that way for us. I want you to know. because if something happens, then at least I.. at least you'll know. And I won't regret anything. I'm tired of regrets."
She took a hesitant step forward and something seized his heart with hope.
"Wesley.. I think I'm in love with you".
Wesley stared at her. She had said it. The words he had been forever in doubt he would ever hear, she had said them, and she had meant it. He clasped his hands by his sides, unable to quite believe it, and he could feel them shaking.
"Gunn?" he murmured at last. He had to know. Even if it hurt, he had to know if there was a real chance.
Fred licked her lips. "I haven't.. I wanted you to be the first to know. It's over. I finished it. We aren't together anymore".
Wesley let go of his last meagre threads of control. He grasped her hand tightly, and seized her by the waist, pulling her tightly into his arms and covering her mouth with his. She answered back with a fierceness he hadn't quite imagined she possessed, and for the first time he allowed himself to believe.
Then something hard connected with his skull, and his face was buried in the pavement.
Wesley rolled onto his back, blinking blindly up at the night sky, struggling to process what had just happened.
Gunn's furious face suddenly towered over him and his expression was a cold mask.
"Some friend you turned out to be".
Wesley scrambled up to his feet, posture slightly unsteady due to the dizziness in his head. He fingered the back of his scalp, and could already feel the hard harsh lump growing from Gunn's assault.
Wesley's gaze drifted to the roughly grasped baseball bat clutched between Gunn's hands and his vision cleared.
"We stopped being anything resembling friends a long time ago".
"Gunn!" Fred exclaimed, eyes wide as she glanced between them. "Wesley! Don't do this, *please*. Are you both crazy?!"
Wesley recognised the primal, intense surge of hatred that welled inside him, only this time he embraced it. The voice of logic, the voice of reason, told him Gunn had every right to be upset, but he was tired of the constant tension, the careful sidestepping and avoidance, the denial for what he truly felt.
He could feel himself readying to stand off against this man who should have been his closest friend, and not *one* thing was going to stand in his way.
Gunn eyes him distastefully. "Should'a known loyalty would never matter to a guy like you".
Wesley sneered. "I don't think you're even aware of the definition of the word".
Wesley drew back his fist, and connected solidly with Gunn's jaw. His head reared back, and his eyes narrowed into slits.
"Oh, you are ASKING for this!"
Wesley glared. "Give me your best shot".
Gunn swung the baseball bat hard, and the ex-watcher ducked, whirling to close his fingers around the long, thick hilt of an antique sword protruding from the back of the trunk. He spun, and held the sword forward into a battle position. Gunn narrowed his eyes.
"Let's get it done".
Wesley brought his sword down, slicing the air. The blade missed Gunn's head by inches as he whizzed to the side, cracking the bat up and bringing it over Wesley's shoulders. Wesley released the sword in surprise, and dropped it noisily to the concrete pavement, clattering onto the drain.
Wesley grunted, launching the few feet separating them at Gunn, fists flying. Gunn also dropped his bat, and countered Wesley blow for blow, moving as fast as a flash of lightening.
The black man dropped to his knees, seeing his opening, seizing Wesley's discarded weapon. With a roar of pain and fury, Gunn drove the sword straight for Wesley's shoulder, beyond sense or rationale.
Then Fred was there. It all happened like a blur. She was there, and the point punched through her chest, directly over her heart, and she collapsed limply on the ground.
Gunn and Wesley stared. And stopped.
"NO!" Gunn screamed, throwing away the blade. He staggered to go to her form, when a vampire appeared in front of him. The demon grinned, showing the whites of its horrifying teeth, fully in its vampire visage. They no longer need to hide it.
"WATCH OUT!" Angel's loud, terror-stricken voice echoed from the Hyperion courtyard moments before dozens of vampires emerged form all angles, launching their surprise attack.
Angel, Cordelia and Connor raced from the hotel interior, brandishing last minute weaponry and giving all they could. Wesley was dimly aware of Lorne as he helped him to his feet, and then he was surrounded by fiends of hell, immersed in a battle he suddenly didn't care if he won or lost.
When the last of the vampires were gone, he raced off into the night, and the darkness swallowed him hole, never to release its iron grip hold.
Angel was breathless as he raced to Gunn's side, and seeing the man's uncharacteristic shaken expression, he halted mid-step.
"Gunn, what's wrong with-" he trailed off, and his mouth flew open. Cordelia let out a howl, dropping beside Fred and covering her face with her hands.
"No! No! No! Oh God, please *no*".
The brunette curled in on herself in sobs and Connor reached out a tentative hand of comfort.
Angel was blinking heavily. "Where is Wesley?" he demanded of Gunn sharply.
Gunn struggled to speak, and when he did his voice was trembling and low. "He ran off", he reported unsteadily. "I-I can't.."
"We have to go to the docks", Angel said. He glanced around at his grieving crew with some of that old air of authority the past few months seemed to have stripped him from. "Understand? We have to, before all of Los Angeles is taken over".
An hour later two more of their crew were to be added to the list of fatalities, and the essence of Wesley's vengeance began to bubble and grow.
Little did they know the worst was still to come.
~*~*~*~*
TBC
You've got no idea what it's like on the other side. Where nothing is in control, nothing makes sense. There's just pain, and hate, and nothing you
do means anything.
-'Sanctuary'.
~*~*~*~*
BROKEN WORLD SERIES -
Part Ten: Into the Darkness
~*~*~*~*
*Welcome to Sunnydale.*
The words on the once cheerful green sign now stark and foreboding, seemed to mock Buffy as Spike drew the car down to a slower speed as they approached the barren outer suburbs two hours after leaving Los Angeles.
"Stop here", Willow directed sharply from the back seat.
The five of them gazed through the tinted windows of the Chrysler apprehensively. Buffy shivered.
Willow climbed out of the passenger seat, and reached inside her pocket. The utter emptiness of the town was disturbing. It was too silent. They hadn't encountered one single patrol group since they hit Route 17, and Buffy had always been given the impression entering into Sunnydale was a suicide attempt for anything moving around with a pulse.
No, something was wrong with this picture.
Willow pulled out a flashlight, and juggled it in her palm while removing a small thin canvas bag containing her supplies.
They had all followed her outside, and Buffy knew she wasn't the only one feeling the heat as everyone gazed around the deserted streets, twitching and shuffling nervously though not speaking their feelings aloud.
Angel took the flashlight from Willow's palm as it slipped between her fingers, and she shot him a small grateful smile.
"Okay", she said evenly. "This should show us exactly where the barrier is."
Spike cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah. About that". He gestured to the far- distant horizon beyond the tall, desolate houses up ahead. "Not too long 'til the sun does that peek-o-boo thing. Do we have a money-back guarantee you can get us in there. all parts still firmly attached. before dawn?"
Willow waved an impatient hand, removing a long thin canister from the bag. "Give me a minute, okay Spike?"
"Maybe that's the reason no one's around", Buffy mused quietly, arms chafing against her shoulders in an effort to ward off the sudden chill. "Sun an' all".
"Probably", Faith agreed, but her own dark eyes darted around warily.
Willow drew her hand inside the canister, and produced a handful of glittery, purple dust. Pursing her lips, she placed the bag against her feet, and began to sprinkle the powder over the air in front of her.
The atmosphere suddenly became solid, revealing a thick black wall in the space the dust touched on that shimmered in an out of existence in a flowing, swirling mass.
Willow nodded in satisfaction. "Like I thought", she announced. "It's a glamour spell protecting the outside of the barrier. Making it appear. normally, when in reality."
".There's no way to know what's actually on the other side?" Angel finished disbelievingly.
Willow sighed. "Nope."
"That would explain the complete lack of activity around here", Buffy said irritably. "There could be a whole stack of vampires just waiting to snack on us on the other side".
Spike shrugged. "Well, you said anything's supernatural can just duck straight on through, right Red?"
"That's right".
He grinned, and gave them a wide, encompassing salute. "See you later then".
Before anyone could react, the vampire stepped forward, and was devoured by the thick swirling black substance. Buffy's hand shot after him into the inky blackness, and her fingers latched onto something on the other side before she was sucked suddenly through as well.
The sensation was like being trapped inside a tar pit, and then she was released from the hold just as quickly and burst through on the opposite side. She drew in a shaky breath, unprepared for the sudden experience.
"Spike!" she exploded at him. She realised he hadn't made an effort to move, and slammed roughly into his back. "Ow. what the hell is.?"
Her mouth flew open. "Oh my God".
If the illusion the vampires had planted on the other side of the barrier had been bad, what she was confronted with now chilled her to the bone.
The streets of her hometown were ravaged beyond salvaging, houses trashed, glass and debris littering the once pristine front yards. Boards had been put up over the windows, perhaps in the early stages of the war when Sunnydale had yet to be fully occupied, but the job had been done hastily and she could see it had been abandoned long ago.
The once perfectly trimmed lawns were dead, the gardens overgrown, and some even partially burnt where the homes that had possessed them had been burnt to the ground and turned into charred out shells.
In fact, everything was dead; the entire town a blackened landscape.
It might have had something to do with the heavy black mist blotting out the night sky; and, ever conveniently, the sun.
"Now *that's* a neat trick", Spike murmured, lips pursing together as he gazed up at the sky in appreciation. "Powerful magic", he noted.
Despite her abject horror of the devastation of her town, she glanced at him sharply. "You've never been back?"
He frowned, and shot her a pointed look. "Never wanted to come back", he said flatly. He shrugged. "And even a vampire society has its rules. Sunnydale's restricted territory, luv".
She was just wondering exactly what this could mean when she felt someone tap her on the shoulder, and gazed around to Faith who had just emerged herself from the barrier, mouth open in incredulity.
"Holy shit."
"Where's Angel and Willow?" Buffy asked distractedly.
Faith cocked a thumb over her shoulder. "Rosenberg's workin' her last minute mojo", she explained, still looking slightly numb at the scene around them. As numb as someone like Faith could look, anyway. "Making sure Angel gets through bangers and mash-less, all that."
"Well, they better hurry", Spike said suddenly, eyes focused on the littered roadway ahead. "Because we've got company".
The two slayers followed his gaze.
A group of vampires were coasting slowly towards them in a dark blue Volvo, ominously silent in their approach. They hadn't spotted the three dark figures, a foot inside the vampire territory, but it wouldn't be long.
"The weapons", Buffy realised, inwardly cursing her own stupidity. "They're in the trunk".
Faith swore. "Great. What's the score? We gotta jam before they see us-"
"They've seen us", Spike said abruptly.
The car skidded to a halt, and shouts echoed around the barren streets while car doors slammed. The vampires clearly hadn't been expecting any early morning visitors, but unlike in Los Angeles, these vamps were highly trained and carried artillery obviously just in case this very situation ever arose.
"KILL THEM!" a voice roared above the rest.
"You heard the guy", Buffy muttered under her breath. She had no time to worry what had become of her lover and her best friend as she launched herself at the closest of vampires weaponless.
It took Buffy only a heartbeat to calculate the odds. They were in trouble.
Both feet flew out as she dove into the air, impacting with noses and foreheads and giving out a satisfying crack. She cocked her fist back into a right hook, countering with an elbow thrust, and kicking up her heel. Vampires flew back on all sides, but their advance kept coming, and they were stronger than what she was used to dealing with.
Spike let out a battle cry as he let loose his pent-up frustrations on the unlucky vampires, thrusting out with kicks and punches that were savage in their intent. He ducked blows and sprinted across the road surface with his coat flapping, before snapping off a branch from a nearby bush that was long dead without the sunlight to keep it thriving.
He had always wondered why talk about Sunnydale had remained so secretive in the past, and now he understood.
He plunged the makeshift stake into a vampire's heart, and whirled to check on the girls' progress.
Buffy was managing quite well on her own, but Faith looked to be in a spot of trouble. Contemplating whether or not to leave the slayer be and watch the bird struggle, finally he decided on self-preservation and ran forward.
A club cracked across Faith's back, and she cried out before staggering to her knees. A vampire stood over her, face expressionless, and drew his fist into her face.
Blood spurted across her lip, and Faith shot out a leg, kicking him to the ground. Another vampire took hold of her arm, and drove a vicious kick into her spine.
Then its eyes went wide and his lips dropped open, and his eyes darted down to the sharp piece of wood protruding through his chest before he disappeared in a cloud of dust.
Spike offered Faith a hand up, and she accepted it.
"No need to thank me for the save", he said sardonically. Faith ignored him.
"Where the hell are -"
Before she could even finish her sentence, bluish electricity shot past her face, and met with its target. Several vampires that had been on Buffy screamed in anguish as they caught alight, and hopped around frantically, rolling in the grass.
Willow lowered her hands to her sides, and gazed around sharply at her friends with Angel by her side.
"Is everyone all right?"
Spike gazed around, surprised. They had taken out all the vamps in record timing.
"Swell", Faith zinged, rubbing at her back.
Buffy ducked her head inside the vampires' abandoned vehicle, and withdrew a long, hand-held crossbow from the floor of the passenger seat.
"I am now".
She gazed around at what had become of Sunnydale, and felt some of that old authority come rushing back into her veins. She was in her own territory now, despite what the vampires wanted to believe. This was her town.
And she was getting it back.
"We need to split up", she decided abruptly. "Two teams. It's not going to take the vampires long to trace this."
She nodded to the blonde vampire. "Spike, take Willow and Faith and check your old haunts, anywhere we might gain information that wouldn't think suspiciously of you turning up in town. Angel and I will hide the car, then go to my house; see what we can turn up. We all need to meet back at Xander's apartment, okay?"
She eyed them carefully. "If anyone gets caught, the others are still here to do what we came for."
She cocked the crossbow.
"No matter what happens, I want Dawn out of this alive."
~*~*~*~*
God I would kill for a hot shower.
The absurd thought entered Dawn's mind as the war wagon rolled along, and she rocked unsteadily in the back, where her right arm was handcuffed to the door.
Of course any kind of shower was pretty much wishful thinking these days, where running water was a lost luxury, a fact all too demonstrated by her stoic, monosyllabic companions.
Wesley remained to be seen since their brief but alarming encounter back at that old building, and she was actually starting to wish for his company than the stony, emotionless guards she was forced to accompany now. It was nearly two hours ago they had embarked on this secret journey to some hidden location, and the large armoured van was without windows, so she couldn't look out to see where it was they were headed.
She would have remained clueless if she hadn't caught smidgens of conversation drift from the front seat.
". Ms. Morgan said to turn left at Route 17, and pass by the old drive-inn to get into town", one gruff voice instructed.
"What about the barrier? The kid isn't exactly anything special".
"She said it was taken care of. I just hope if we pass through she doesn't blow us all up or something."
Dawn tensed, and realisation hit her. Sunnydale. They were taking her to freaking Sunnydale.
Now not only was she being the target of yet another of her sister's demonic foes, she was being sucked right back into the life she had sworn to herself she would turn her back on at all costs.
Great.
Ten minutes later the van shuddered to a halt, and the vampire sitting across from her leaned over for only a moment to loosen her bindings. The doors to the back cabin screeched as they pulled open, and Dawn was shoved unceremoniously out into the darkness.
The night air was cold and struck her like a thousand knives after the stifling interior of the van. One hefty vampire grabbed her easily around the upper arm, and dragged her across the car park.
She struggled to recognise her surroundings, but Sunnydale was like a foreign landscape to her now, and anything but the home she had known for seven years of her life. The car park didn't look at all familiar, though the building she was being pulled towards on stumbling heels looked like it had once been a conservative, strict government structure.
It struck her like a blow. It was City Hall.
God. The building was charred on the outside, and faded and grey. The atrium outside that had once been blooming with the pride and joy of the town's stately officials was overgrown and deadened, and the foliage clung over the railing to the front doorway and gave it a distinctly Dracula's castle-like ambience. Of course she had never seen Dracula's castle, but she had to assume that was what it had looked like.
At that moment Dawn knew for sure she never wanted to find out what the rest of the town looked like. But she might have to. Despite Wesley's words, she wasn't as thoroughly convinced that Buffy would come for her, and she wasn't about to wait around until she did.
She had never been inside City Hall, but the front lobby was crumbling and badly in need of structural repairs. The vampire's grip on her arm tightened forcefully, and he gave a short nod to the armed vampire standing guard by the old administration's desk before turning down a darkened corridor.
Dawn stumbled blindly beside him, unwilling to trust in his supernatural sight to see her through the darkness unscathed. At last they reached an office door at the end of the hall, and he shoved her inside, barely pausing to eye her over with distaste.
"Price'll be along in a few hours. Don't go trying anything, princess. You're bringing the slayer into our territory now, and not many vamps are gonna like you for it".
His breath struck her face, and she took a step back, face twisting in disgust. Vamp-detail might have been Ivy's thing, but the girl was a slut, and that wasn't her deal.
She wasn't like her sister.
He chuckled without humour, and started back out the door. "Don't worry, sugar. I like my girls cold".
He slammed the door behind him, and the plasterboard rattled. Dawn was overcome with an uncontrollable shiver. She waited five whole minutes before she was sure there were no sounds indicating anything nearby, and then scuttled across the room and to the window. It was boarded up, and after a few futile attempts she broke at least half of her fingernails trying to wedge it off, but it was secured tight. After checking any other possible route of escape, Dawn was forced to face the facts. She was sealed in tight.
She let out a howl of frustration, and sagged into a ball under the window, burying her face in her hands. Was this it? Was this all her life was going to be, an end no one would notice, an end no one would miss? The year she turned fourteen and discovered she was something more powerful that the slayer itself seemed like so long ago now, nothing but a distant dream.
Spike, in his usual way, had been right. She was nothing, and no one would care if she dropped dead of heart failure.
And that just gave her an idea.
~*~*~*~*
"Where the hell are you taking us, Blondie?"
Faith's suspicious voice drifted up to Spike, and he struggled to ignore it as he continued to stalk down the small suburban street towards his destination. It gave him a small sliver of satisfaction to hear the bitch and Red scramble on the footpath to keep up, and that grin lasted on his face a full thirty seconds before Faith's grip on his arm brought him abruptly to a halt.
"Hey! I find you're playing us, and there's gonna be a whoopin'".
Spike sneered, eyeing her over in unabashed distaste. "Count on it".
"Um, okay, people", Willow cut in, stepping up to both of them with a look of immense annoyance clouding her face. "Can we maybe save the bout of ass kicking entertainment 'til later? Like when we're not actively struggling to save a world here? Again."
A sneer tugged at Faith's face, but she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "Sure, Sabrina. Whatever has your yennin'".
"I'll take that as a agreement", Willow responded acridly. She was still peeved at Buffy for leaving her alone with the bickersons. If they didn't get to wherever they were going soon, she was tempted to just let them go at an all-and-out smackdown and be done with it. At least then she'd have one less to annoy the crap out of her.
Spike turned from them both, not in the least un-annoyed himself, particularly with the fact that as they spoke Buffy and Angel were enjoying some quality 'alone time'. He sauntered down the street, eyes sweeping the darkened landscape before cutting a sharp corner through someone's backyard. It was a trip he'd made many a time before, at least pre-chip and pre-Scooby. He got the impression though the town was an exclusive vamp survivor island, his old mate Gerry might still be in the neighbourhood, lying as low as he ever did.
Without waiting to see if Willow and Faith were following, he launched himself over the yard's back fence. The house was still there, darkened and seemingly empty. Spike started quietly across the yellowing lawn, and his fingers latched silently around the back door handle.
The door made an impossibly loud groaning as it opened, and his vampiric senses immediately adjusted to the gloom. Something brushed against his back, and he glanced around in time to see Faith slip into the house beside him.
He motioned his head forward and to the left, and the brunette slayer nodded and started gracefully ahead. Spike paused only a moment to admire her cat-like fluency, and her feminine curves as she twisted around the corner, which he knew from memory led to the second floor staircase. But Gerry was the type to stick to routine, and a vampire invasion and permanent midnight weren't factors about to dissuade him from his nightly whisky in the basement. Spike knew that was where he'd be.
He felt Willow come to a halt at his side, and inwardly sighed, knowing he wasn't going to shake her. He started straight for the basement door, and sure enough, it was half open, and the sounds of what was presumedly Gerry shuffling around in his cabinet met Spike's ears. Briefly allowing himself a moment to praise his good instincts, Spike's hand slid across the handrail as he moved soundlessly down the stairs.
"Gerry, mate. Long time no see".
His chubby fingers were fastened around the candleholder before he raised it to the blonde vampire's face.
"*Spike*?"
Spike waved the flame irritably away from his face. "Oi! Watch it mate, you're singeing my eyebrows."
"Spike?" Gerry repeated in disbelief. "What the *hell* are you doing in town? Are you looking to sign your own death warrant, because I think you just went about doing the honours."
Spike sighed irritably. "Old business. Reason I'm 'ere, actually".
Gerry turned his scrutiny to Willow, just as Faith's voice echoed down the stairwell. "Hey. There's a killer collection of porn in one of the bedrooms, but nothing live. I think you've once again wasted our time-" she trailed off as she came into view. "What the fuck?"
Gerry glared at Spike, and his eyes flashed red. "You brought a slayer with you, man?"
Spike glowered at Faith. "Lovely. Now you've given him the big old scaredy".
"I'm not scared", Gerry snapped. "You have that slayer fetish, but they don't like *my* kind very much".
Willow frowned. "Um, maybe stupid question. But how did someone like you survive this long in Sunnydale? Vampires aren't the fondest of demons these days. Even. whatever demon you are."
Gerry rolled his eyes, and took a step against the wall. Almost immediately, he melted into it, and there was no apparent sign he was there at all. He detached himself again, and slumped onto a ratty armchair in the corner of the room. "Happy? Garuda demon, sweetheart, that's the preferred term. We can blend into any surroundings, and stay that way for hours, days if we have to".
Faith grinned wickedly. "What, like a chameleon?"
Gerry glared. "Fine, like a chameleon, if that will help you understand easier. Now maybe you can tell me what the hell you want before you give me away. I haven't survived here six long years only to have some British vampire, his slayer playtoy and their redhead side vixen to get me caught".
"Hey!" both girls cried indignantly.
Spike snorted. "Look 'ere, Gerry", he said impatiently. "I'm calling in a favour. I want to know where vamp central HQ is these days".
Gerry popped open his bottle of whiskey. "Why should I tell you?"
Spike rolled his eyes. "Need we be reminding of my lady friend over here", he said pointedly.
Faith pursed her lips, but remained silent.
Gerry's eyes darted towards her nervously. "Fine. Jeez, that blonde slayer was enough. You know I lost my bar tab at Willy's because of that chick?" He scoffed. "Slayers. Who needs 'em?"
He took a swig. "The place you're looking for is City Hall, man. That's where most of the vamps are packing. But there's the old high school. Yeah, they got some scary shit on that side of town. I were you, I'd stay the hell away".
Willow chewed her lip. "Guess it fits", she mused unhappily.
Faith cocked her head at the weaselly Garuda demon. "Anythin' else chameleon boy has to let fly?" she said warily.
Spike stepped towards Gerry. "Well?" he prompted warningly.
Gerry shrugged. "Just trust me when I say that high school is *bad* news. Get the feeling things are gettin' restless over there, know what I mean? They got torture chambers and all sorts of shit. You think those vamp prisons they have in the cities are heavy?" He shook his head, and shivered slightly. "Man, you ain't seen nothin'".
Spike turned to Faith and Willow. "Sounds like that might be our place."
Willow nodded anxiously. "Yeah. We should get over to Xander's apartment and meet up with the others. No doubt they're gonna want to check this out".
~*~*~*~*
The Summers home was still intact, though Buffy hardly held her surprise. After all that had happened to her in this war, she didn't quite believe the fates could spare her that one mercy.
Still, she wasn't about to complain. She strode in the kitchen door ahead of Angel, eyes peeled for any signs of the unusual. Angel's hand closed gently over her wrist, and she jumped at his sudden appearance at her side. Vampire or not, he could still move with the natural swiftness of a predator, and if he could sneak up on her right now, she figured her focus was a non-issue.
"I don't think there's anyone here", he murmured softly, and she could see his intense scrutiny of her as a car's headlights passed by outside the house.
Buffy sighed, drooping her head slightly. "No", she agreed quietly.
She knew he wanted to ask something else, but she turned from him before he could get the words out. Obviously sensing she was in no mood to be coddled, he settled for slinking quietly behind her, allowing her space, but not enough so that he couldn't reach her side in time if potential danger should arise.
He couldn't believe how perfect something so simple as *being* with her could feel. everything felt so perfect with her. So right. He didn't think he had ever known something so surely in his life as his love for this woman.
His eyes trailed around the darkened living room, wary of the apparent peace. Though there had been no signs of any vampire activity on their trek across the town, he wasn't so eager to believe in their safety. Certainly not when things between them were so well. He wouldn't admit as such, and in his long, previously eternal life he had had no need for childish superstition in his rationally orientated way of thinking, but he was starting to think things were too good to be true.
In all his life he had only ever experienced the sort of warm, enriched contentment he was feeling now twice, and the first time he had reverted to his soulless, abomination of an alter ego, the second his son had been wrenched from his arms by the man he trusted, and the possible escape from his darkened world had suddenly been twisted into something perverse.
He didn't think he could survive if he had to go through it all again.
Buffy disappeared up the flight of stairs, and he allowed her the brief moment alone with her childhood home. His own memories came flooding back as he glanced around. The living room had been looted, and most of Buffy, Dawn and Willow's belongings hadn't endured the years in their owner's absence. A thick sheen of dust covered everything in sight, giving it an appearance of great age.
The front door had somehow been broken in, and at least half of the windows were shattered, covering the floor beneath his feet in an array of brittle glass.
Though he had returned to Sunnydale a few brief times since his departure for Los Angeles, he had never actually returned to Buffy's home since she was in high school, at a time things had been so different between them, so strained and uncomfortable, as if the lie they were living was showing its cracks.
Things had changed so much since then, not just between them, but also in their lives. He realised with sadness that so much had happened in Buffy's life before and after the war that he would never be a part of.
Something glinted on the floor at his feet, and he bent into a crouch to retrieve it, even as he did hearing Buffy's barely perceivable sounds of movement on the floor above.
A frown marred his features as he placed the cool metal object in his hand.
It was a black cigarette lighter.
Not very distinguishable, but you couldn't live with someone and constantly be in their company for a dozen decades without noticing certain things about them. Like what cigarette lighter they used.
So technically he had no reason to be jealous. Buffy had been open with him about the whole Spike affair.. Well, once he got it out of her, anyway. She had told him. She slept with him, they had what vaguely resembled a relationship, though there was something about that she definitely wasn't mentioning.
Xander's reactions to Spike had more to do than a male friend's jealousy, there was something genuinely frightened in him about the blonde vampire's presences among their ranks, which led Angel to believe something he hated to believe about Buffy.. But the fact was the time he had spent with her these past few weeks had only reinforced his beliefs that she had allowed herself to be involved in an abusive relationship. Not only physically but mentally as well.
But if this was indeed the case, then why was it that because Spike had a soul he was suddenly welcomed back into the fold without a question, and damn the potential danger it could cause her and her family? And if the Scooby gang's undeniable familiarity with him was to be taken into consideration, he had been around more than could be considered necessary for the fight against the forces of evil.
Buffy had told him nothing had happened between them after his soul was returned. But why did he find that so very hard to believe?
"What are you doing?"
The soft, mildly curious voice of his love interrupted his line of thoughts, and he pulled abruptly up to his feet and whirled to face her. Instinctively, he held the cigarette lighter so it was concealed behind his back.
"Nothing", he said quickly. "Uh, just thought I saw something." He forced his features to read sheepish.
Buffy eyed him for a moment with a strange frown. Then she shrugged. "Okay. Well, the weapons have all been cleared out, surprise surprise. I guess a slayer's stash would probably be pretty useful in a really freaky way. It makes me think they can psychoanalyse me by my weaponry or something".
She held forth a small cross on a silver chain. "I did find this though".
Angel recognised it almost immediately. It was the same necklace he had given her the night they met.
"Vampires probably wouldn't have any use for it", he murmured quietly, eyes intently on hers.
Buffy smiled slightly. "No. I wouldn't think so".
Without a word, she slipped it on around her neck, pulling the clasp free from her hair. Angel felt a mild smile pulling at his lips.
Things were going to be okay between them. What did it matter as long as they were together now?
The past was in the past.
Right?
~*~*~*~*
Los Angeles, California
2004 Phase 1 of vampire invasion
Swords, knives, axes. Stakes, crosses, holy water.
All of it was loaded into the back of the truck with deft efficiency, everything from Angel's extensive weapon's cabinet transferred to the vehicle. Things like brass knuckles and antique swords with foreign names, things they had never needed before, but now had suddenly become so vital in this battle for survival. For their freedom.
Wesley dumped a heavy collection of Angel's priceless ancient swords into the back when Fred emerged from the courtyard, staggering from the weight of an impressive array of weaponry. Wesley scurried forward without a thought, quickly retrieving half of her burden and her pretty brown eyes darted up to his face in surprise.
"Thank you", she murmured after a long pause. She averted her eyes again quickly. He stifled a sigh.
"Angel and Charles seem to think this isn't enough", she commented, gesturing vaguely to the growing culmination of artillery.
Wesley ran a hand absently over his thickening stubble. "I'd have to agree with that assessment", he admitted.
Fred bobbed her head tersely. "They went by Charles' old group to see if they had anything we could use. Some reinforcements wouldn't have hurt", she added dryly.
Her curly brunette hair caught the light of the overhead lights when she moved it nervously. It was so silken and smooth, surely it wouldn't hurt if he just reached out and. He closed his weary grey eyes.
Deprived of sleep and he was sure his obsession with her was growing more and more each minute. Being this near her, in the office, every day, able to smell her sweet lavender scented shampoo, tantalizing him.. It was beginning to be unbearable.
"Are you afraid?"
His eyes flew open in surprise at her familiar Texan twang, surprised because she hadn't left as soon as she got the opportunity, instead she had stayed knowing just how dangerous it was, and not because of the countless vampire forces that were gathering as they spoke.
He cleared his throat, voice husky and low. He would be truthful with her, he knew that. Truthful because the brusque exterior he put on was only show and she would know the genuineness of his words.
"Yes".
Fred nodded at his simple, straightforward admission, seemingly satisfied. "Sometimes I think it isn't really happening", she murmured, ducking her chin. "That none of this can be real. Because if it is real and all of this is really happening, then we're all about to walk straight out into a war, and one we could never come back from".
She looked up at him then, and the expression in her eyes was such that she had never allowed herself to direct at him before, but earnest and pure in its meaning.
He couldn't allow himself to believe what he was really glimpsing.
"Wesley", Fred said, voice caressing him, lulling out his innermost feelings and threatening to bring them crashing to the surface. "All of this has made me think. I see Angel, how he's changed now this thing has started; now he knows Buffy might really be gone. He never got to tell her, Wesley, how much he loved her and now they finally have their chance. I don't want things to be that way for us. I want you to know. because if something happens, then at least I.. at least you'll know. And I won't regret anything. I'm tired of regrets."
She took a hesitant step forward and something seized his heart with hope.
"Wesley.. I think I'm in love with you".
Wesley stared at her. She had said it. The words he had been forever in doubt he would ever hear, she had said them, and she had meant it. He clasped his hands by his sides, unable to quite believe it, and he could feel them shaking.
"Gunn?" he murmured at last. He had to know. Even if it hurt, he had to know if there was a real chance.
Fred licked her lips. "I haven't.. I wanted you to be the first to know. It's over. I finished it. We aren't together anymore".
Wesley let go of his last meagre threads of control. He grasped her hand tightly, and seized her by the waist, pulling her tightly into his arms and covering her mouth with his. She answered back with a fierceness he hadn't quite imagined she possessed, and for the first time he allowed himself to believe.
Then something hard connected with his skull, and his face was buried in the pavement.
Wesley rolled onto his back, blinking blindly up at the night sky, struggling to process what had just happened.
Gunn's furious face suddenly towered over him and his expression was a cold mask.
"Some friend you turned out to be".
Wesley scrambled up to his feet, posture slightly unsteady due to the dizziness in his head. He fingered the back of his scalp, and could already feel the hard harsh lump growing from Gunn's assault.
Wesley's gaze drifted to the roughly grasped baseball bat clutched between Gunn's hands and his vision cleared.
"We stopped being anything resembling friends a long time ago".
"Gunn!" Fred exclaimed, eyes wide as she glanced between them. "Wesley! Don't do this, *please*. Are you both crazy?!"
Wesley recognised the primal, intense surge of hatred that welled inside him, only this time he embraced it. The voice of logic, the voice of reason, told him Gunn had every right to be upset, but he was tired of the constant tension, the careful sidestepping and avoidance, the denial for what he truly felt.
He could feel himself readying to stand off against this man who should have been his closest friend, and not *one* thing was going to stand in his way.
Gunn eyes him distastefully. "Should'a known loyalty would never matter to a guy like you".
Wesley sneered. "I don't think you're even aware of the definition of the word".
Wesley drew back his fist, and connected solidly with Gunn's jaw. His head reared back, and his eyes narrowed into slits.
"Oh, you are ASKING for this!"
Wesley glared. "Give me your best shot".
Gunn swung the baseball bat hard, and the ex-watcher ducked, whirling to close his fingers around the long, thick hilt of an antique sword protruding from the back of the trunk. He spun, and held the sword forward into a battle position. Gunn narrowed his eyes.
"Let's get it done".
Wesley brought his sword down, slicing the air. The blade missed Gunn's head by inches as he whizzed to the side, cracking the bat up and bringing it over Wesley's shoulders. Wesley released the sword in surprise, and dropped it noisily to the concrete pavement, clattering onto the drain.
Wesley grunted, launching the few feet separating them at Gunn, fists flying. Gunn also dropped his bat, and countered Wesley blow for blow, moving as fast as a flash of lightening.
The black man dropped to his knees, seeing his opening, seizing Wesley's discarded weapon. With a roar of pain and fury, Gunn drove the sword straight for Wesley's shoulder, beyond sense or rationale.
Then Fred was there. It all happened like a blur. She was there, and the point punched through her chest, directly over her heart, and she collapsed limply on the ground.
Gunn and Wesley stared. And stopped.
"NO!" Gunn screamed, throwing away the blade. He staggered to go to her form, when a vampire appeared in front of him. The demon grinned, showing the whites of its horrifying teeth, fully in its vampire visage. They no longer need to hide it.
"WATCH OUT!" Angel's loud, terror-stricken voice echoed from the Hyperion courtyard moments before dozens of vampires emerged form all angles, launching their surprise attack.
Angel, Cordelia and Connor raced from the hotel interior, brandishing last minute weaponry and giving all they could. Wesley was dimly aware of Lorne as he helped him to his feet, and then he was surrounded by fiends of hell, immersed in a battle he suddenly didn't care if he won or lost.
When the last of the vampires were gone, he raced off into the night, and the darkness swallowed him hole, never to release its iron grip hold.
Angel was breathless as he raced to Gunn's side, and seeing the man's uncharacteristic shaken expression, he halted mid-step.
"Gunn, what's wrong with-" he trailed off, and his mouth flew open. Cordelia let out a howl, dropping beside Fred and covering her face with her hands.
"No! No! No! Oh God, please *no*".
The brunette curled in on herself in sobs and Connor reached out a tentative hand of comfort.
Angel was blinking heavily. "Where is Wesley?" he demanded of Gunn sharply.
Gunn struggled to speak, and when he did his voice was trembling and low. "He ran off", he reported unsteadily. "I-I can't.."
"We have to go to the docks", Angel said. He glanced around at his grieving crew with some of that old air of authority the past few months seemed to have stripped him from. "Understand? We have to, before all of Los Angeles is taken over".
An hour later two more of their crew were to be added to the list of fatalities, and the essence of Wesley's vengeance began to bubble and grow.
Little did they know the worst was still to come.
~*~*~*~*
TBC
