Unbeta'd.

SO you never know what to say on a review, so you sometimes don't bother. I understand. You can only say. "Nice! Keep going!" So many times before you feel kinda fake. Been there... Do that myself.

Today I give you something to say. Tell me Happy Birthday. I'm 28 today (Jan. 27).

The Slayer's Death

Ashton shielded his eyes with one arm, and kept the other wrapped around Sam as best he could. He tried to protect her from whatever light had engulfed them.

The light from the vortex had lit the alley as if in day, but the brightness all around now was intense, somehow alive. He was more afraid for the woman at death's door than for himself as he cradled the prone figure on his lap trying to guard her from the probing glare permeating the cloth of his jacket.

When he became accustom to the sheen through his thin barrier, the whistling began. A high pitched noise that was seemed for animals alone. It moved all around him coming from all directions. Past his ears, then from far away, the sound took over his senses until all became still and all he saw or heard was darkness. Silence.

He lowered the lapel of his trench to see black, then a white light cut into the darkness and radiated around a boy, lighting him up with an unearthly glow.

The boy grinned a bright youthful smile as he strode confidently to the bent vampire still holding the body of his love.

The small child, 5 years of age at the most, had light brown hair, ruffled and untamed, but neatly clipped. He wore a miniature sized Tuxedo, as if he was attending a formal event. His large brown eyes looked up to the demon with intensity. "Hello."

Ashton just stared in stunned silence at the child.

"I said Hello. It is rude not to return the greeting." The boy explained and began a trek around the couple as he looked them over.

Ashton followed the child's path with his eyes. The boy seemed to be studying the couple, one sitting the other lying, on the gray tiled floor in the darkness of the room. A room that Ashton couldn't see outside the moderately lit area he, Sam and the child occupied.

After the boy made a full rotation around the vampire and the slayer, Ashton spoke. "Hello."

The boy beamed. "Oh good. I was afraid you wouldn't speak." The child stepped up closer and looked directly into the vampire's dark eyes. "How are you this day?"

Ashton blinked rapidly. "Excuse me, please?"

The boy smiled. "I am wondering how I find you."

Ashton looked from the boy to the woman and then into the darkness. He tried to see into the black of the shadow, but still sensed nothing outside of the immediate area. He looked back to the brown haired boy. "I find myself very. upset." And he tried to cradle Sam's head more comfortably.

The child nodded. " I understand. This was not how it was planned."

The vampire widened his eyes. "How what was not planned?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." The boy replied from his position in front of the crouched man. He then turned and began pacing while tapping his forehead with his index finger as if in deep thought. "Now, we have a bit of a problem."

Ashton kept his hands on Samantha, feeling the temperature in her body fall slowly. His eyes though, were plastered to the boy and full of confusion.

"We simply can not have Samantha dead. Not at this time." The child explained.

A question finally struck the shocked vampire. "Who is 'We'?"

The boy stopped taping his head and turned. "We are-" He shrugged. "WE."

Aston shook his head. "I don't understand. Who is 'We'?"

The small boy snapped his fingers. "Of course. You have no memory of this place." He chuckled at his realization. "Forgive me for my rudeness."

All at once the darkness was gone and Ashton looked around to see hundreds upon hundreds of faces staring back at him. They surrounded him from all sides. For he found that he was in a circular room, it's rounded walls painted black, but could barely be seen behind the platforms lined with a banister at each level's edge. The beings were seated in wood seats that matched the banisters and a desk sat before each creature.

The area, although large and unusual, was not what kept Ashton's attention. It was the myriad of beings looking back. A few humans represented the group, all looked as though they came from different parts of the earth. But the humans were scattered among more demons than Ashton had ever seen. And most he couldn't even begin to identify.

With wide eyes the dark vampire looked back to the boy. "I still don't understand."

The boy grinned back with pure amusement. "Why, we are The Powers."

Immediately Ashton put it together. "You can save her then?"

The boy nodded. "We can, and we will. But first we must discuss some things."

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Young Mister Travers moaned and reached up to the bump behind his head. "Bloody hell." He groaned before attempting to gather himself off the roof. As he sat, he remembered where he was and quickly crawled over to the ledge and retrieved his binoculars.

One glance to the ally told him all he needed to know. Where a glimmer of light had once been, there was now darkness. The vortex had been opening, but Sam must have stopped the completion of the ritual somehow. She had once again, stopped the impending demise of the planet and it's human population.

Quentin breathed an audible sigh of relief and turned to sit, leaning against the short wall that lined the roof's edge. He drew a kerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the beads of sweat on his brow before he caught sight of the folder and the papers blowing about in the light breeze.

Quickly he placed the small cloth back into his breast pocket and gathered the pages scattered about. It took only minutes but the entire time his mind reeled at what had happened. None made much sense. He thought he was about to be robbed, but he hadn't seen the man, nor did he know how the unfamiliar voice knew his name.

Again he looked about and gathered the thermos holding his tea before departing the roof to inspect the area he assumed Samantha would still be.

Confident that all was well, and that the Slayer would have the talisman, he walked into the ally and to the corner that lead back behind the buildings. But what he found made no sense.

Laying in grotesque positions, some with missing appendages, the demons slaughtered painted an all to clear picture of the battle that must have taken place. Blood dripped from limbs and ran down the alley towards a gutter. Some of the carcasses were already half decomposed. Others left an outline of where they had been. He found dust in several places that he assumed were vampires.

He quietly chastised himself for being caught off guard by a thief. Rather the robber took his money or not, he caused the Watcher in training to miss what surely had been a battle to remember. Of course the fact that Quentin ultimately had knocked himself out was in no way a subject worth study. It was the stranger's fault.

What Quentin soon did realize was that Sam was absent. Not a body, not a Slayer. Even her Vampire was gone, something that, for the first time, bothered Quentin.

Still looking over the area, he noted one body, large and still, that spoke. "Gone. They're gone."

The flustered watcher quickly understood two things. One, it was a demon. And two, he'd never seen a demon face to face before.

He gripped the folder and thermos in his arms tightly as though they would shield him from whatever evils the demon tried to do to him, and walked carefully to the muscled form lying on the ground in a puddle of brown liquid. He bent slightly towards the thing. "What has gone?"

The demon tried to turn his head to the voice and growl, but all he managed was a gurgling sound before coughing.

Quentin, now sure the demon couldn't cause him harm in his injured state bend down closer. In a more resolute voice he repeated, "I asked you, what has gone?"

The demon knew his limits were expansive at this moment, and leered at the human when he answered. "Your slayer, watcher. She is dead." He grinned. "A vampire."

"She's been turned to a vampire?" Quentin asked flustered and confused.

The demon grimaced again. "A vampire, killed her. She is gone now."

The man shook his head. "Not turned? Dead?"

"Dead." The red creature agreed and nodded back the way Quentin had come. "Her vampire, he cried for her." He twisted his face. "It makes no sense, but he left with her."

Now, much more comfortable, Quentin crouched on the ground. "He died as well. Was he staked?" He asked almost excitedly.

"Just gone. Quiet." The demon said and closed his eyes. The pain was bad, but he would live. Right now lying here and waiting for his body to heal was just fine by him. And if the human waited long enough, he could kill him for asking all the annoying questions.

Quentin stood up and headed back down the ally. Once he looked past the bodies of the demons, he saw the sword and picked it up off the ground. Sure enough, it was coated with human blood. Sam was gone. The question was, where to, and where was the talisman? Had the vampire taken it?

Quentin took hold of the sword, made sure he had a good hold of his notes and headed to the entrance that lead back to The Council's home.

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"What things? She is dying." Ashton pleaded to the child.

The boy looked down at the woman. Her heart had stopped, and her breath was gone, but she was still there. He gazed back at the sorrowful vampire. "Why do you worry? You know she will live."

Ashton shook his head and pulled Sam closer to him. "They said she lived, but they are not holding her dying body now. They are not watcher her face grow pail. They did not hear the last beat of her heart." He sobbed.

The boy just stared at him with his tiny brow furrowed. "I never can understand this. Your sorrow, your feelings, for humans?" The boy asked.

Ashton lifted his head, fully prepared to lash out at the teasing boy, that is until something in him remembered. Ashton's face lit with understanding all at once. "You're him. The boy. I remember you."

"Very good vampire, but no. I am not him." The boy straightened his bow tie. "He didn't dress nearly as well. Armani. It's very nice. Don't you agree?"

The vampire stared blankly at the boy unresponsive.

"Yes well, on to the business at hand." The child announced to the quiet onlookers who nodded randomly. Agreeing it was time. "We have a problem, and you are the solution." He didn't give Ashton a moment to respond. Instead he went on to explain the situation the powers had gotten themselves into.

"You see, a very long time ago, even longer than your vampire's mind could comprehend, we were forced to make a decision. One that helped to bring about the creation of the slayer." The boy had begun to pace, and his tiny frame spun to face Ashton. "Now understand, it was not actually us who caused the slayer to come about, but we allowed the slayer to be made. The Shaman could not have created her if we hadn't allowed it." He explained and continued his pacing.

"But it is us that made promises so that we could get the needed energy to create such a being. To make it possible." He looked back at Ashton who switched between listening intently to the boy, and to the deathly silence of Sam. "Do you follow me so far?"

Ashton nodded slowly. "The lore is true, but if not for you, it couldn't have happened."

"Us, and The Pure. It was her power that brought about The Slayer, and the deal she made with us ensured she would remain with us for a time." He paced again. "Then the humans came into the picture and we knew the deal would be forever. That is until a Slayer was turned."

Ashton interrupted. "Turned. I have heard of this, but only once."

"It was only once." The boy agreed and walked to Ashton yet again. "You see the deal was simple. We would give The Pure her power once the slayer, any of them, served us for a term of 7 full years. Once that happened she could free her mate. Punished by childer who'd not wanted to be brought about."

Ashton shook his head and looked down to Sam. One of the oldest slayers in history, and that was because she'd made it through her fifth year, almost. "But the turned one, she was a slayer. and the demon?"

"Was The Pure. She'd been clever using the slayer as a vessel to reunite her spirit and her powers. She freed T'mure but he was still a demon in another dimension. His only change to be brought back without fulfillment of the deal made was to come forth. As a vampire."

"What does this have to do with me?" He looked down to Sam. "I don't understand."

The boy, now still and kneeling beside the vampire, looked up to the brooding face of a mourning man. "Because, we thought you were he."

Ashton saw the seriousness in the child's eyes. "You thought I was this mate. This, T'mure?"

The boy nodded, and straightened his jacket as he stood. "When you saved the child, it made no sense to us. You see only The Pure, now as Slayer, and T'mure, now a vampire in this world's form, were ever suspected of having true humane emotions. Or what could be called humane. They were the last of the pure demons to roam the earth before humans populated it. And different from the demons who came later."

Ashton watched the heads in the crowd nod with the boy's words again. "And because I helped the boy so long ago, you thought I was him. Because I was kind."

"Now you have it. But in our mistake, we created a problem. One we hope you and your slayer will agree to help us with, but we needed you to understand how and why."

Ashton nodded, then gazed down at Sam. "What about Samantha?"

The boy smiled and walked to Sam. He held his hand over the wound and in a quick motion of his hand over her stomach, she was healed. Her shirt was no longer boasting a gaping hole and neither was she.

Just as his eyes registered this he heard her breathing begin, low and steady at first, then picking up speed and becoming that of someone waking up.

He watched as she rolled over and began to curl up in a ball. A position he remembered meant she was about to rouse from a deep sleep. She began to move her mouth and darted her tongue out to dry lips before attempting to open her eyes and stretch.

She Yawned and pushed herself up from his lap then rubbed her weary eyes. After she opened them and was able to focus, she shot to her feet and looked all around. "What the hell is going on."

Around her every face was demon and unfamiliar. The few faces of humans she could make out looked nothing like anyone she knew. She spun around and found Ashton on the ground gape mouthed. "Ashton? What's going on?" She looked around again then to him. "Where are we?"

The little boy walked up beside her and yanked on a pant-leg. "Samantha?"

She looked down quickly and for a moment, seemed even more confused, then a smile spread across her face. "Oh. Its you." She crouched down beside the child and ruffled the hair on his head. "Does this mean we did it?"

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Quentin ran through the vacant hallway to the libraries. He had to find a reference to Ashton, something that might tell him where he could have taken the crystal.

The only logical conclusion the young man could come up with was that, although it wasn't something vampires were known for, the vampire could have taken Samantha for some odd ritual of mourning. The Slayer had to have the crystal on her. It was the only thing that made sense with the closed vortex.

Then again, the talisman's authenticity had never been confirmed. Maybe it never was the true one.

He dropped his notes on the first table he saw and began to go over the listings of vampire diaries. Ashton's was missing, he knew that, but he hoped to find something that would be of use.

He finally decided on several different diaries about both vampires and slayers that were in the life-span of the dark vampire's centuries of life.

It took him no time at all to surround himself in a pile of new notes, old tomes and a folder filled with accounts he'd already made notes of. He was soon shoulder deep in paper. Flipping past pages then turning back, jotting down passages and locations Ashton had been seen.

He ran his fingers through his hair and took off his glasses after several hours had gone by. He knew it was nearly morning, and his first order of business would be to tell The Head that a new slayer had to be found. And a new Watcher put in place.

The second would be to find out what happened to Sam and the talisman, possibly even her vampire.

The first bell rang from the chrome devise on the wall. It was later than he'd thought. With no grace at all he gathered his notes and folders along with the books and began replacing everything. He'd now gathered several notebooks and folders of possibilities to present to The Head.

When he walked out of the libraries still holding an armful of papers and pages inside several folders, he didn't realize that he'd inadvertently stuffed a book back into place with a filled folder stuck behind it.

Instead he walked to the office of The Head and knocked when he saw the secretary was not yet in place.

"Come in." Edward Graves called and Quentin walked in.

The man took note of his visitor and motioned for the young man to take a seat. "I take it we are not to be overrun by demons. Not today at any rate."

"Yes, Sir." He answered to quickly and caught an evil look from his mentor. "I mean, no Sir. The Slayer was able to stop it. But, she lost her life in doing so."

The man settled into his chair. "I see. Have you gotten all the information you will need?"

Quentin was somehow surprised that that was the only reaction. "Yes. I believe so. But sir, I could not find the talisman."

Edward sat up and rubbed his chin as he thought. "Tell me, what did you see."

Now Quentin's heart pounded. Honesty was something that came naturally to him on most occasions speaking with this man, but he often found himself holding back a few details. This time he would hold back as much as he had to. "I saw the light from the ally, then it was gone. I was too far to see the fight but I saw the sword Samantha was known to use covered in her own blood, and her body was gone."

"You say the vortex opened then?" The man clarified.

Quentin nodded.

"Our Sam must have destroyed the talisman. Tell me, did you see any signs of the vampire?"

"No, but there was dust. I suppose it could have been him."

The head had come to his own conclusion. "I would guess that Sam, slayer to the end, destroyed the crystal, closing the portal. The demons killed her, then Ashton." He leaned down to the drawers that lined the left side of his desk and drew out a bottle and two tumblers. "Congratulations Mr. Travers. You have just witnessed the death of a worrier doing her duty to the end." He said and pored two fingers for each of them before handing the tumbler to Quentin. "I would say that qualifies as something not taught. Congratulations."

Quentin watched as the man held out his hand. The young man took it and began to shake it firmly as his smile spread. "Thank you, Sir."

The man chuckled. "I'll still need that thesis, but I suspect it will be spectacular." He took another drink then pointed at Quentin quickly. "Have you decided on a title?"

"The Slayer's Death." Quentin said without thinking.