Brave New World
Chapter Thirteen
Dawn knocked hard on the door, bobbing on the balls of her feet, fighting the urge to enter the room. Half-naked Andrew, Doyle and Wesley was too much at this time of the morning. There was a low groan and a soft thump that sounded suspiciously like someone had thrown a pillow at the door.
She knocked again, calling through the door.
"The military are here, guys!" she called. "They're dropping stuff out back. Come see!"
There was another groan, but more resigned than the last one. There was the sound of feet hitting the wooden floor and padding toward the door. Dawn fidgeted, waiting for the door to swing open. There was a stumbling, a sickeningly thump as flesh hit the floor.
"Bloody hell!" she heard Wesley roar. "Andrew, you damned idiot! Move your arse!"
"No need to be rude," she heard Andrew mumble.
She heard Doyle laughing, mattress creaking and she saw why when Wesley opened the door. Doyle was rolling on his bed and Wes turned, jabbing a finger into Doyle's stomach.
"And you can shut up," he groused, rubbing his eyes before grabbing a shirt and pulling it on. "Are you two coming or not?"
Doyle stood up slowly; Andrew struggled out of the blankets and smiled nervously at Wes's murderous glare as he passed.
"Mornin', Dawnie," Doyle greeted cheering, tugging on jeans and a shirt. "Oh and Wes, man? I get first dibs on the shower."
"Hey!" Wes protested. "I was up first! I fell over Andrew!"
"You invited him to stay with us," Doyle shrugged. "Your own fault."
Wes glowered, jamming his hands in his pockets as he followed the group down to the ground floor. Buffy, Willow, Tara and Anya were already up, grabbing food parcels and piling them inside. Spike watched from the safety of the shadows. The guys went outside to help, grabbing the crates of weaponry and handing them to Spike who piled them by the door.
The chopper disappeared as soon as the last crate was left, the blades thumping the air as the group waved their thanks.
They backed inside the mansion, closing the door and turning like kids at Christmas to the crates of weaponry and food.
Tara approached Spike, who was eyeing a crossbow with a smile.
"She was happy last night."
Spike turned, startled to find Tara behind him. She raised her eyebrows at the crossbow he was pointing at her and he lowered it.
"Sorry, pet," he said. "You mean Willow then, right?"
"Yeah," she lowered her gaze. "Whatever you said, she was happy." She looked up. "Thank you."
She turned to leave him then, but he grabbed her arm, pulling her back again.
"I think I should be thanking you. I wouldn't have said anything if it wasn't for you," he narrowed his eyes slightly. "But what I still don't get is why. Why would you do that?"
"I…" she tailed off. "To be honest, I don't know. I guess I just wanted her to be happy. If that means being with you, then there's nothing I can do."
"Well… Thanks."
"It's ok," she shrugged. "Now, are you going to share the crossbows?"
He grinned and handed her the one he held before delving into the crate to get another one.
Across the room, Buffy straightened up, smiling slightly as she studied the axe she had retrieved. She moved back a little to allow the others access to the crates. She glanced up to find she was standing next to Wesley.
"It's me that everyone expects to have all the answers, not you! And however hard you try to be second in command, Wes, you're not. I'm first, second and third in command."
He was studiously ignoring her, cocking a shotgun before aiming it and smiling, obviously impressed. She saw his gaze flick toward her, but then focused back on the gun.
She swallowed hard. She had gone to bed immediately after their argument and they hadn't seen each other since then. Spike had given her a look when he came downstairs to help, but fell into sarcasm. She could handle that; Spike was very rarely not sarcastic with her. Wesley, however, she didn't know how approach.
She fixed a pleasant and enthusiastic grin onto her face and looked at him.
"Hey, we really got that arsenal, didn't we?" she said brightly.
"Well, yes," he answered, glancing at her. "That's what you asked for. You got what you wanted."
There was something accusatory in his voice.
"It's what we needed," she said defensively.
"Right," he nodded. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to get to the shower before Doyle."
He placed the shotgun on an unopened crate and walked away from her. Buffy watched him go, then looked down at the axe clutched in her fist. She sighed and put it on the crate beside the shotgun. She watched the others gleefully check out the weaponry and couldn't resist the tiniest of smiles.
She watched Willow grab Tara's shoulders and Tara turned from where she was studying the crossbows with Spike. They had a brief discussion and made to leave the room together.
"Hey, Buffy," Willow grinned as they passed her. "Tara and I are going to remove the hypnosis. Unless you want something else?"
"No, that's ok. We've got everything."
"More than," Tara added, looking at the piles of weapons.
"Yeah," Buffy agreed.
The two witches left and Buffy went to Andrew to take away the sword he was wealding a little too enthusiastically.
She let out a sigh, as her eyes drifted up to where the water pipes could be heard clanking. Everyone else was chattering brightly, you wouldn't think there was a war coming the following day.
But there was and that was why Buffy was going to swallow her pride and apologise.
Right now.
As soon as he left the bathroom.
Two hours later, after a hearty breakfast, the group crowded into the living room. The weapons were unpacked, everyone having chosen something in particular. Buffy had called a meeting and was standing before them. Wes was still avoiding her; his head turned to the left, staring out of the windows.
"I've, uh, I've got something to tell you," she started and the hesitation in her voice was enough to earn her the group's rapt attention.
She saw Spike and Wes exchange glances and Anya shot her a shrewd look.
"Yesterday," she went on. "While you were down here, I went up to sort through some stuff and, um… Faith was here."
"What?" Dawn cried. "Faith was here and you didn't say anything? Yesterday afternoon, Buffy! Most of us didn't go to bed before midnight, you could have told us!"
"I know," she said. "But I didn't want to worry you guys. And I dealt with it."
"Define dealt with it," Wes said.
She stared at him. Isn't this what he wanted? For her to let them in? She was doing this in the vague hope that it might butter him up for when she went to apologise. Instead, he was doing this. Being all cold Watcher Wes. Well, she wasn't going to rise to it.
"I kicked her ass," she said. "In other words, we fought, I won."
"Not before she landed one on you," Spike pointed out.
"Yes," Buffy conceded. "But the point is, I got her out."
"What did she want?" Doyle asked.
"She was just threatening, like she always did," Buffy shrugged.
"But you got rid of her?" Willow said.
"Yeah. She's gone. She wasn't as strong as she used to be. Two years in a coma take their toll, I guess," Buffy lowered her gaze, guilt evident in her voice.
"Do you think they know about the war?" Tara asked.
"Yeah," Anya chipped in. "If they know, what do we do?"
"We should assume they know," Buffy said slowly. "But they probably don't know about the escape tonight."
"And if they do?" Anya asked.
"That's what the arsenal's for," Buffy pointed out.
"I can't believe Faith was here," Dawn muttered, shaking her head. "I can't believe you didn't tell us before now."
"It doesn't make much difference, Dawn," Wes said. "It just means that we should be more on our guard. I daresay Buffy thought she was doing the best thing by not telling us."
Buffy stared at him once more. Great, now he agrees with her. She really didn't like Wes like this.
"I was," she nodded. "So, uh, now I've told you… I think we should train. Get used to the weapons so we're good for tonight."
There were murmurs of assent and slowly, the group stood up, slightly shocked. Buffy smiled at them, reaching for the axe she had chosen. She scanned the crowd for Wesley, deciding that now was the perfect time to apologise. She watched the guys pair off, moving into different rooms or to different areas of the room she was in.
She saw him grab the shotgun and a sword and leave the room. She was about to follow when Spike tapped her shoulder.
"Care to dance, Slayer?" he asked, lifting a sword.
"Spike, I -"
"Leave him be," he said. "I think he's over it, but you bruised his manly pride. Give him a little longer."
She heaved a long sigh and gripped her axe, swinging it up suddenly, making him jump back with a cry, bringing up his sword in defence.
"Thanks for the advice," she replied, ducking away from his blow and laughing.
"Silly little things," the Mayor sighed, watching the chopper shrink and disappear over the horizon. "Looking for help in the worst place. I mean, the military!" he chuckled. "A power as ancient as the Slayer, combining forces with something as brash and modern as the military! Makes me feel ill."
Faith glanced up from the magazine she was reading, legs swung over the arm of a chair. He turned away from the window and grinned at her.
"What?" she asked.
"I've got some news," he teased.
"You managed to get some Twinkies?" she answered.
"I wouldn't let my girl have anything so bad for her," he said. "It's fruit for you. No, I have news about Buffy."
"The war she's going to start?" Faith asked. "I know about that."
"I meant something else."
"Something else," she dropped her magazine to the floor and sat up properly. "Sounds intriguing, Boss."
"It is," he sat down on a stool opposite her. "Tonight, at midnight, they're going to help the last residents escape. You and I are going to stop them."
"How do you know this?" she asked, awe-struck.
"Demons with powers," he replied sagely. "Far more interesting than the Slayer's friends. So, are you excited? You'll get you're shot at Buffy's friends. Then, she'll start her war tomorrow."
"Or I could kill her tonight and there won't be any war," Faith offered.
"No," he mused. "I'll give her friends their due, they'll go ahead with or without her. I thought we'd let her think she was doing ok. Then when she stops to gloat, she'll see her friends dying around her, she'll know there's nothing she can do. And that will be your moment, Faith. You can take her out as she gives up. There's nothing like that. It's like a release," he grinned. "But a painful one."
Faith chuckled.
"Sounds like fun," she stood up, going to her closet to flick through the new clothes he had bought her. "I think I should dress up."
The night was heavy and dark, tasted like dust and death. There was no moon, barely any stars. It made Buffy shudder, the only lights had hidden themselves away and Buffy wondered what horrors they were trying to avoid.
She turned to look at the guys behind her, expressions ranging from blank to nervous. They had trained earlier, enough to get comfortable with their weapon of choice, but not enough to tire them. She had apologised to Wes, though she wasn't happy with his reaction.
"Don't worry, Buffy. We all make mistakes. I had no right to push you. Forget it."
And that was it. She glanced at him and he returned her gaze impassively.
The families they were helping escape were huddled together, the army surrounding them, eyes darting around to check the night.
They got to the border without incident. But Buffy didn't think it would be that easy. It never was. Cold foreboding crawled up her spine and she fought to keep her breathing calm and level. They were almost at the border, Buffy could see it and she resisted the urge to race toward it.
The night seemed to breathe. Trees seemed to bow lower and Buffy realised with a jolt of horror that she was so close to panic that she could almost taste it.
"Slayer," Spike hissed, leaning down to talk into her ear. "I've got a bad feeling about this."
"You and me both," she answered.
Spike turned his head sharply, staring at a derelict house on the opposite side of the street.
"Slayer," he said again, his voice agitated and it made Buffy's shoulders itch with rising panic. "We should move."
She turned back to look at the group.
"Move faster," she urged, moving into a jog that the others imitated.
She fixed her eyes on the derelict house across the street, felt ice plummet into her stomach.
"Run!" she screamed, stopping and lifting her axe as the front of the garage shattered.
There were screams from the families and Buffy heard Doyle's voice amongst the clamour, urging them on and trying to calm them down. Spike stayed at Buffy's side, as the others surged on with the families.
The snake's heavy body hit the floor and Buffy felt the ground tremble as it slid toward her with a dry rasp.
"Well, lookee here," it rumbled.
With a savage yell, Spike leapt forward, his sword slashing through the air. The snake blinked and chortled, snapping at the vampire as Spike attempted to drive the sword into the roof of the snake's mouth.
Buffy was about to dive into the fight, when she heard her name.
Or more precisely, her initial.
"Hey, B, how about we pick up where we left off?"
Buffy turned away from Spike and ran toward Faith. Taking the dark haired Slayer by surprise, she held the axe in two hands, using the handle to drive Faith into a wall.
"Take a look, F," Buffy hissed. "That's your precious boss. An overgrown reptile. This is whose side you're on."
"I know," Faith grinned, punching Buffy in the stomach. "Great, huh?"
Buffy straightened up and drove the base of the axe into Faith's chin, snapping her head back. She turned away and started to run toward her friends and the families. She could hear Faith laughing, echoing the Mayor.
"Spike, c'mon!" Buffy yelled over her shoulder, jumping over the bonnet of a burnt out car and racing toward the family.
She heard the rasp of snakeskin flesh sliding along after the pounding of Spike's boots. When she reached the others, they were fighting off a small group of vampires, desperately urging the terrified people over the border.
"Go, you silly cow!" Doyle yelled, punching vampire and turning to grab a woman by the arm and giving her a sharp push over the border.
Buffy entered the fray, calling to Willow, Tara and Dawn to leave the fight and help the people.
But the Mayor was upon them, Faith at his side, grinning as she slammed her fists into whoever was closest. The foreboding was making Buffy's arms ache as she saw three terrified families running down the main road that left Sunnydale.
Three families gone, two more to go.
The Mayor watched what was going on, tossing his head and Buffy thought he was smiling as he watched Faith attack. Faith's foot sent Wesley sprawling and her fists knocked Andrew to one side.
But, Buffy noted, the vampires were gone, dusted. So long as they got the people away, they could run. Run and get out the heavy artillery.
Buffy saw Doyle push the final people across the border and she almost gave into the relief, before checking to see there was one more person. But as Buffy twisted to run towards the last person, a young woman, clutching her daughter, the Mayor dived down.
And as Buffy's fingers reached to wrap around the woman's arm, she was gone. The Mayor's mouth closed around her and her daughter and she was gone.
She didn't even see it coming. She didn't get a chance to scream.
"Guys!" Buffy yelled, eyes fixed on the spot the woman had been as she forced the tremble out of her voice. "We're going! Come on!"
They didn't need telling twice and they surged back, shouldering the weapons, grabbing injured friends. The Mayor reared up to watch them leave, laughing all the while.
But Faith was frozen. Fists still clenched as she stared up at her boss.
The Mayor had long since retired to bed, telling Faith that a heavy meal always made him sleepy.
She had thought it was cool, as they stood in the garage and he changed. It had made her seethe because she hadn't been there to see it that first time on Graduation Day.
And she had enjoyed it all. The fighting, decking Wesley, seeing Buffy's face when she turned to save the people.
Faith gave an involuntary shudder, drawing the blankets up around her shoulders. She knew what he would have to do, she had known he had eaten people. But she didn't care. Stupid people who had thrown her dirty looks as she sauntered through the halls of Sunnydale High. It didn't matter to her if they died.
So why did seeing him eat that woman make her feel sick? Make her force a smile at him when he talked about the carnage of war?
She had seen the woman and her child at the same time Buffy did. The shaking, sobbing woman and the wide brown eyes of her terrified daughter. But Faith had pretended she hadn't noticed them, knowing that Buffy would get them out and they would be ok.
Only they weren't.
They were dead.
And Faith had watched her Boss do that. It made her sick. Maybe she wasn't as tough as she thought.
Or maybe, she suddenly thought, it's a one off. Something he feels as bad about as I do.
She threw the blankets back and pulled on her clothes. She wanted answers. She wanted to know if this is the sort of person Richard Wilkins was.
She didn't know what she would do if she found out that he really was just a monster. She didn't have the faintest idea.
But she did know that her world was turning, sending what she thought she knew out of the window as she floated through, adrift in her doubt. She couldn't live like that, she had spent two years in a coma, she wasn't going to spend another two years wondering about what she was doing. Questioning if she really knew the Mayor, if she still believed in him. She knew he cared about her, she knew that. But could she go on caring about him if he didn't care about - or even enjoyed - killing a mother and her child?
She didn't know.
But she did know who would have the answers she needed.
She slipped out of the window, struggling not to run and draw attention to her footfalls.
When she reached the end of the street, she turned right, running as fast as she could toward the mansion.