CHAPTER 6: REVELATIONS PT. 1

Do you mean this horny creep
Set upon weary feet
Who looks in need of sleep
That doesn't come?

This twisted, tortured mess
This bed of sinfulness
Who's longing for some rest
And feeling numb?

What do you expect of me?
What is it you want?
Whatever you've planned for me
I'm not the one.

            ~Barrel of a Gun, Depeche Mode
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"Bloody hell," Spike groaned, rolling his eyes. "Again?"

"What are you talking about?" Faith spat at the stranger, tone angry, disgusted, and just the slightest bit uncertain.

"I'd wager you know exactly what I'm talking about, Slayer. The Hellmouth," he said plainly, never looking away. "It's going to open." He looked her up and down again, and something soft, something quiet and sympathetic entered his eyes. "It will fall to you, now."

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about!" She stepped toward him with venomous rage, eyes black and shooting sparks, hands clenched into fists that were ready to beat a different story out of him. It was too much, too fast.

The man who called himself Tenth arched a calm, black brow at her, his disbelief plain. "Really." It was flat. A comment, not a question.

"You can't know that!" She went on, still so angry that she seemed not to hear him. But there was an edge of desperation to her voice now, a ragged edge that told the truth of her feelings.

"I can. And I do. Just because you don't want to hear it doesn't change anything."

A muscle in her face twitched, jaw line tensing, and she took another step forward. "Let me show you what I know," she said dangerously, fists rising.

"Let's say you're right," Tenth interjected. "And I am wrong. What do you have to lose by hearing me out?"

She faltered, eyes and hands falling.

"Is there a reason you don't want to know?" he asked pointedly, and even Spike looked at her with curiosity then.

"No," she said strident, insistent. Her dark eyes fluttered back and forth, as if she were trying to decide something.

"And if I'm right… can you really afford not to know?"

She took a deep breath and held it, debating.

*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

A few hours later, Faith groaned and pressed the heel of her hand against her brow, grimacing in pain. The morning sun that drifted through the Magic Box's windows was like a knife blade piercing the delicate membrane of her eyes, skewering them whole before thrusting into her brain and twisting. Thrusting… now there was a word that conjured up images of last night that she didn't want to remember.

She hoped fervently that Spike was suffering as horribly as she was. No. Worse.

She risked a glance at the platinum blonde vampire, who was gathered deep in the dramatic folds of his duster and sunk heavily into a chair nearest the bookshelves where shadows pooled, shielding him from the sun. His elbow rested on a tiny wooden table, one thumb pressed against the scar on his brow to hold up his head, eyes closed in what looked like terrible pain. He hadn't uttered so much as a word since they'd entered the shop.

She allowed herself a small, victorious smirk and looked away.

The smirk faded as her eyes fell on the others who circled the table, reminding her of why she was here. There were actually a lot of things about last night that she'd just as soon forget. From beneath the shade of her hand, she looked over to where Tenth was sitting, his words from last night still echoing in her head.

The end of the world…

Just the thought of it made her feel cold, icy dread nesting in the pit of her stomach like a lead weight with a thousand prickling needles. The end of the world? What the fuck was she supposed to do about that, exactly? She, who'd spent over a year in prison, who'd murdered innocent humans, who'd betrayed everyone who had ever cared about her except for a man who'd tried to destroy the world?

It will fall to you, now…

She shivered at the thought, the ice porcupine in her stomach shifting restlessly, flexing its quills. It made her laugh now, to think of how she'd viewed her calling yesterday. How she'd trivialized it by looking at as if it amounted to nothing more than simple ass kicking. There was a hell of a lot more to being Chosen than that, and though she'd always realized that in a vaguely distant way, the enormity of it was dawning on her now. Before, it had always been Buffy's job to save the world, and Faith, in that aspect of being a Slayer at least, had always felt safe, always secondary. She'd been there to lend her fists when the Hellmouth had opened once, had fought alongside Buffy, fully aware that if they lost it would mean the end of everything… but the fate of the world had never rested squarely on her shoulders as it had on Buffy's. Now she was beginning to realize that she was the thin, fragile barrier between the world and its complete destruction, and it terrified her to the core of her soul.

Tenth hadn't told her much. In fact, he'd been very close mouthed about the apocalypse since she'd decided to bring him to Giles, and she had let him be—mostly because she hadn't wanted to know. She hadn't wanted to bring him, had wanted to run from his words… but in the end, she'd known she couldn't let him walk away without finding out for sure if what he said was true. If the world was really at stake, it would fall to her, and no matter how terrified she might feel, she couldn't escape that. Besides, she'd believed him, despite what she'd said to the contrary. Had believed him from the moment he'd uttered the words. She thought it was probably the way he had looked at her when he said it. The way he had looked into her eyes as if she were already dead and he was mourning her passing.

But it was more than that, wasn't it? All the Slayer dreams pointed to something big on the horizon, and his claim that the world was in danger not only aligned with the scroll they had found and the droves of vampires swarming the Hellmouth—it confirmed the feeling deep in her gut, some primal, animal instinct that warned of danger and death just beyond the horizon of her vision. She didn't know if it was Slayer sense or simple primitive, human instinct, but she knew it was true as soon as he said it. Knew it like she sometimes knew where to stab with her stake without looking.

It had taken her a while to rouse Giles, who had roused the others, and eventually everyone had gathered together in the Magic Box, the sleepiness that still tugged at the corners of their eyes not doing a thing to blunt the dark and vaguely worried expressions they wore.

Faith let her hands fall over her eyes again, hiding her face from the blinding sun, seeking relief from her headache within the cool shelter of her fingers, shutting out her vision of the world. She didn't want to look at any of them, anyway, after everything that had happened the last time she'd seen them… but this time she covered her face more to hide her own expression than to shield herself from theirs.

Tenth had begun speaking, and soon… soon she was going to find out exactly how much the world weighed.

*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

"So this Order of Guardians," Giles asked as he circled the table in the Magic Box, "what exactly do you do?"

With a candidness that appeared almost unnatural, Tenth examined the Watcher, eyes so dark they looked black. "You've never heard of us?"

"Not as such, no." Giles' brow furrowed with confusion. He looked back at Tenth with a scrutiny that was no less apparent, though far more confused and guarded. Tenth was candid, yes, but there was watchfulness in him as well, one that felt… almost dangerous. Giles got the feeling that he would be a very honest man, up to and beyond the point when he snapped your neck.

"It's a bit of a story," Tenth admitted. "But I'm willing to tell it. Fox…" He glanced at his partner.

The boy was sitting quietly in a chair off to the side, staring at Faith with such obvious awe that it was comedic. The Slayer herself was either too miserable to notice the attention or was deliberately ignoring it.

"Fox," he repeated, more insistently this time.

The boy's head snapped up and he looked at Tenth with mildly panicked confusion. "Huh?"

"You want to go get us some coffee? Looks like it's gonna be a long, thirsty day." He glanced at Faith and his brow furrowed just a bit. "Slayer looks like she could use some, too."

Faith glared at him with one eye as best she could through her parted fingers, and he gave her a mild smile in return, which made her glower even harder. She disappeared behind the latticework of her fingers once again, perhaps too hung-over to make a snappy reply.

Fox scrambled from his seat. "I'm on it," he declared, making for the door. Halfway there, he paused and turned looking over the others. "Anyone else want anything?"

"Hot chocolate?" Willow asked, then reached over and touched Tara's shoulder, fingers stroking the soft wool of her sweater. "You want anything, baby?"

Tara shook her head and the boy's eyes widened slightly as he took in the nature of their relationship. Member of the Order he might be, but mostly he was still young and naïve when it came to the world of a normal teenager. To his credit, the boy caught himself, affirming only, "Got it," before he walked out the door.

Tenth's eyes lingered on the two of them for a moment longer. Witches, if the auras he perceived were correct. And the redheaded one was the far more powerful of the two. Girlfriends. Well, that was interesting, and convenient he supposed, given their similar interests. He let his eyes slide from them to flicker briefly over the others. The young man, Xander, seemed slightly anxious, ill at ease all the time, but he was solid. Dedicated. Tenth could tell. Possibly dangerous if pushed under the right circumstances. But his function here seemed to be support and back up, not fighting. His girlfriend, though, Anya… Tenth couldn't seem to get a read on her. Her aura was strange. She was by turns innocent and ancient, new and old. She seemed very knowledgeable about the arcane from what he had observed so far, but about human customs, she seemed to have no clue. Yet she was human, no trace of demon. He didn't quite know what to make of her, and he kept a wary eye on her.

The Slayer. She was something of an enigma to him. He didn't quite know what to make of her, either. That she'd been consorting with that vampire last night was no longer in question. That she was allied with the previous Slayer's team seemed odd, in addition to that. And… she didn't strike him as the Slayer type, honestly. She seemed too surly, too hot tempered, not at all the cool, calm, detached warrior he'd been told tales of. Still… he supposed she'd been chosen for a reason, and for her status at least, he respected her. From her, he got the clear sense of demonic energy, and he wondered if she even knew it existed. He didn't think so. He was beginning to figure out that there were a lot of things these people didn't know, which seemed odd, considering their association with the Council. Or perhaps not so odd. If the Council was not only bigoted, but also untrusting with their knowledge and secrets, withholding information in order to gain power over others, it wouldn't surprise him in the least, given what he knew.

Funny. He tilted his head and gave her a last once-over. He'd never known a Slayer before (and shouldn't be in the company of one right now, the militant voice of his training spoke up in the background of his mind), but he hadn't expected the energy of a force for good to be so dark.

The vampire. That one blew his mind almost completely. It went against everything that'd been taught and trained into him. That the Slayer and her companions allowed a creature such as that within their ranks… It made him question all of them just a bit more, made him reconsider every word that passed their lips. He'd realized quickly enough that there was something different about this vampire; he didn't seem to be the killing, murdering, blood-sucking fiend that Tenth had become so familiar with over the years. But his aura was still dark. Far darker than the Slayer's. It seemed to hiss and crackle with energy inside Tenth's mind, black and sly and deadly. And yet… there was lightness to it as well. There was humanity in this creature, perhaps far more than he'd seen in any vampire. And according to the Slayer's assurance, he was incapable of bringing harm to humans. Still…

His contemplation of all these things lasted only seconds as he turned his eyes back to Giles, who was looking at him with barely restrained, impatient curiosity. Giles. This man, like most of the group, seemed to suffer from a duality, a contradiction of natures, but in him it was more pronounced. Tenth got the sense that the mild-mannered, inquisitive, intelligent man could be quite a deadly opponent if forced. He considered the older man contemplatively for a moment, wondered again whether or not he was doing the right thing, and then threw his doubts to the wind. The division between the Council and the Order was stupid as far as he was concerned. His mission was too important to let fail because of stupid pride and an ages-old feud. And if his actions here could make a dent in relations… well, having the Slayer and her team on their side couldn't be a bad thing. If the world survived long enough for other bad things to happen, that was.

He fought the urge to let his fingers fidget, wished distantly for a cigarette, and mustered a faint smile. "So. I guess we should start at the beginning."

*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

He began in a voice that sounded educated and scholarly—nothing like his normal street-smart, casual tone, that occasionally dropped its ending g's and often left out joining words all together—and the whole came out sounding like an often read and recited narrative.

"In the earliest ages, we worked with the Council. It wasn't called the Council back then, but they served the same purpose they do now. Things were simpler back then. There were fewer people, and they worshipped many Gods. Demons were accepted as a fact of life, good as well as evil, and sometimes, they were worshipped as well. And sometimes, they were sought by the bravest and most curious of scholars for their knowledge and ability. The good demons saw purpose in what these scholars were doing, and some of them united with these scholars to form a base of knowledge and a small army of warriors. This alliance endured for many centuries."

"When Christianity first surfaced, it seemed like many of the other religions of the time, only different names and different places assigned to the people and events of importance. It was researched, but in general paid little mind since many believed it would pass or remain contained like most religions had in the past. But as it developed a stronger following and fanatical devotion, some of the Council's members in the later generations, for obvious reasons, embraced its teachings, and a division began to grow between the human scholars and the demons. Other religions began to grow and incorporate the same ideals that Christianity upheld, which were really just ideals of older, smaller religions cobbled together and given new shine. Humans began to believe that they would become tainted by consorting with demons, and that all demons, regardless of intent or appearance, were evil, and must not be endured. The ties between scholar and demon broke down badly over the next few generations, and were eventually severed."

"You're claiming that the Council worked with demons on their side during all this time?" Giles interrupted, vaguely disturbed. "I've read all the Council histories. There are… no records of what you claim recorded among them."

"None that you've seen," Tenth added. "Mr. Giles, you seem to be an exception to the rule, but you know as well as I do that the Council, as a whole, are completely bigoted. They've had centuries to cultivate their prejudice and arrogance. Plenty of time to doctor or hide their histories as necessary. Are you telling me you find that hard to believe?"

A shadow crossed Giles' face, and Tenth could almost see the years of the Watcher's life flying by in his mind, memories of dealing with the Council throughout the years. "No," he answered, voice sour. "Surprising, perhaps. But not difficult to believe." Despite the acidic tone of his voice, his expression remained indecisive. He didn't put it past the Council to do that, no. But he didn't exactly believe that they had, either. He was accepting Tenth's story for the moment, but not taking it as gospel. His shrewdness made Tenth smile.

And then Anya spoke up. "Oh, it's true," she said, stating flat fact. "I used to date this Historian back during the Dark Ages—it didn't work out; he had this tortured guilt thing about me being a vengeance demon—but he knew about the nastiness between the Council and the Order. Out and out war. He told me all about it." She shrugged. "Even showed me the histories. He used to love to show me his books," she confided with a grin. "He used to get them out and I'd dress up like—"

"Anya, honey, that's enough being helpful, okay?" Xander interjected with false brightness.

"Indeed," Giles muttered. After a moment, he nodded, seeming reluctant. "Nevertheless, it seems to back up your story, Tenth. Please, do continue."

Tenth's mind was still racing with all that Anya had revealed. She used to be a vengeance demon? How was that—

"Tenth?"

"Right. Just, remembering where I left off."

He picked up the narrative and continued smoothly, despite the interruption.

"The ties were severed. Christianity thrived, and demons became things that were only feared and hunted, never worshipped or sought. The killers or the killed. Those demons who had once teamed with the scholars, who had defended the world and all of humankind, went into hiding for fear that they would be sought out and destroyed. They survived, but worked underground, in the background, beyond human eye and device. The Council… they always knew this order of demons still existed. In the earliest centuries, following what Christians record as the death of Christ up through the Dark Ages," he nodded at Anya, "there was war between the two factions. Silence marked the centuries up into the more modern ages, where tolerance was being preached. At long last, the violent religious fervor was passing, and in its wake, an uneasy peace was born between the Council and the demons, which had come to call themselves an Order, and whose members were called Guardians."

"The Order…" Giles said, eyes intense and thoughtful. "So you're a…"

"Demon. Yes." Tenth's voice was steady and sure as he replied. "But only in part. Most of me is human. Fox and I both, as well as almost everyone in our Order are at least partially demon."

"Why only demons?" Giles asked, both curious and confused.

Tenth only shrugged. "There aren't many humans outside the Council that fight the forces of evil. And most ones that do wouldn't side with demons. Even ones fighting on the same side."

"Gee, I wonder why?" Xander quipped, giving Tenth a pointed look

Tenth appeared not to hear him, taking a moment to find his place in the story, and when he spoke again, the narrative changed, becoming half scholarly and half casual, a mixture of recitation and explanation. "The Council's mistrustfulness of anyone bearing demonic origins is well known among the Order, and we stay out of their way. They know we're out here, but they've never quite tried to put a stop to us. Mutual respect and unspoken protocol keeps us out of Council inhabited cities and towns, especially ones with Slayers." He glanced at Faith meaningfully, who ignored him, her head cradled in her hands. The narrative broke down completely as he continued. "We wouldn't want to come between the Chosen One and her duty. That'd be like declaring war. If we'd known the Slayer was still occupying Sunnydale, Blackwell would never have come, and neither would we."

Willow, who had followed the conversation with rapt attention, bobbed her head in surprise and blinked, face scrunching up with curiosity. "Blackwell?"

"Another of our Order. She disappeared while on a mission here. She was tracking some kind of vampire and fell out of communication with us shortly after reaching Sunnydale. My partner, Fox, and I came here to find out what happened to her." Faith glanced up at Tenth as he spoke, and their eyes locked in a brief, intense gaze. He could read the silent questions in her eyes, knew she wanted to know about what he'd said last night.

"There's more…" His manner, if possible, grew even more intense, and he eyed them all gravely. "In our Order, there's a woman called the Oracle. She has visions… It was one of her visions that brought us here." He broke eye contact, looking down at the table for a moment. "A field operative, even one of our best, is expendable if it means keeping our existence low profile. Sunnydale's a risky place to be sticking our noses… we wouldn't have come here… but what the Oracle saw…" His gaze swept over each of them in turn, ending on the Slayer. "What she saw was the end of the world."

Giles, who'd been on the verge of asking a question, seemed to stumble over his own lips.

Faith stared at Tenth, the same numb look of horror in her eyes that he'd seen last night.

He looked around to see the effect his words had had on the others. To his surprise, he noted that while Giles looked concerned, he didn't actually seem afraid. To his complete shock, the other humans shifted with slight concern, but received the news rather nonchalantly. The vampire looked as completely bored as he had last night. Tenth had known they had served with the previous Slayer and faced many trials (they'd been described in the dossier he'd received prior to going on this mission—minus the vampire), but while he knew that, it was quite a different thing to see that it was true.

"Great." Xander lifted his hands and made a half frame with his fingers, as if to suggest a panoramic view. "'It's The End Of The World. Again'," he said, quoting as if reading from an ad. He dropped his hands back on the table, shook his head and gave a wry smile that bordered on dark amusement. "The Hellmouth really needs to get a new slogan."

And that was when Tenth understood that these people really saved the world for a living. That was when he knew they were far more formidable than he'd originally thought.

*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

Faith kept her silence. She wanted to laugh. Wanted to cry and scream and kick and make this not be happening. Anything not to have to sit here and listen to what Tenth was going to say.

But she couldn't. She felt frozen, removed, as if everything going on around her was happening at a great distance. Everyone else seemed so calm. Had they really done this so many times that it no longer fazed them? She couldn't imagine it. If she hadn't been so upset, she might have been able to look more closely, see that they weren't as unimpressed as they appeared; they just weren't afraid. Yet.

Her heart felt like it was held together by bits of string, wound round and round, enshrouding it like a mummy inside tiny ropes, keeping all the pieces together. It felt unwieldy, fragile, as if the slightest tug would set it spinning again, unraveling her.

She could almost feel fate tightening its fingertips around the end of the string, preparing to yank…

*           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *           *

"So your Oracle believes that this event, whatever it is, will take place soon?" Giles asked intently, seeming to concentrate on several separate other lines of thought while keeping track of the conversation.

"Yes, but she doesn't know when."

Giles shifted and folded his arms over his chest, giving Tenth a scrutinizing look. "Could we be a little clearer on what we're talking about?"

"She's… pretty sure the Hellmouth is going to open."

"Again?" Xander asked, incredulous. "See?" he said, disgusted, looking around the table. "This is what I'm talking about! No imagination! No points for creativity!" He leaned back, looking surly. "I give it a three," he declared.

"Before you grade the end of the world with a crude numbering system, perhaps we should hear the details?" Giles asked with mild sarcasm.

"I'm afraid there aren't many details," Tenth said with real regret. "The Oracle said the lines of power that will cross are too great; there are too many convergences and divergences she can't distinguish. She only got fragments..." He ran a hand over the loose, black topknot at the back of his head, frustrated that he couldn't articulate more clearly. "I'll tell you what we could make sense of: She said that the event would be cataclysmic and individual. She said that the world's Savior this time could easily become its Destroyer, that the line between light and darkness is very fine within them."

He paused and noted how their attention suddenly moved away from him, their eyes falling on Faith, mistrustful. The Slayer herself shifted uneasily, staring off into the distance away from them all as if her soul had been stolen from her body and only the shell remained seated there.

"She said that what was divided will be made whole," he went on speaking as if he hadn't noticed. "She said that the noble intentions of heroic hearts will lead to a betrayal that will inadvertently give evil the upper hand." Again, those covert glances at Faith. He wondered if the Slayer could even hear him, as oblivious as she seemed.

"She said that the world will only be saved through sacrifice. The Hellmouth will likely open, and whether or not it will be closed again depends solely on the one who leads the way, and the final decision of if they will become Savior or Destroyer."

"But you're not certain of who? Or what circumstances will cause it?"

"No." Tenth shook his head regretfully. "She couldn't see clearly. She said it was like a veil had been drawn over the future, and she could only see the vaguest silhouettes."

"That's… not extremely convincing, I'm afraid." Giles sounded mildly apologetic and disappointed. "You're telling us that something terrible 'may or may not' happen," he added, not bothering to mask his suspicion that it might not be true at all.

"I'll tell you something I know for sure," Tenth went on, dark eyes hardening. "The Oracle's predictions always come true. Always. The outcome this time might depend on the actions of another, but you tell me, which way do you think it'll go? How do things usually go around here? Towards good, or bad?"

Everyone shifted restlessly, seeming to look anywhere but at him.

"That's what I thought."