Title: Return
Author: Ivytree
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, UPN, Mutant Enemy, etc.
Feedback: Please!
Summary: An alternative ending (which you can bet will never happen) for Ep. 22 of this season, incorporating recent spoilers. The end of BtVS, and the beginning of The Spike Show.
NO MORE SPOILERS
----------------------------------------------------
RETURN
Part 31. Future Burning
"Xander," Anya said softly, "We have to talk."
"Do you think this is the time, Ahn?" Xander said. He was escorting her to her position for the Hellmouth sealing spell. She stopped to face him.
"Yes, right now," she replied, with a fleeting smile. "I just want to tell you this one thing - if I die, I want you to marry a nice girl and live a long, fulfilling life."
"Ahn!" Xander said, shocked. "Don't say that! Don't even think it!"
She put her arms around him, and looked at him with utter sincerity. "I want you to know. After all, anything could happen." At his look of real distress, she stroked his cheek tenderly. "When we were here before - when Spike said I had to make a choice - that's what I thought about. I thought I was going to die, and I knew I just want you to be happy, even without me."
He hugged her tightly to him. "Oh, God, Ahn, how could I be happy without you?"
"But you have to," she insisted. "Promise me you'll try."
"Listen to me," he said forcefully, his dark eyes very serious. "Nothing's going to happen. Everything will be fine. We'll all come through this together, okay?"
They were interrupted by Spike's sarcastic voice sounding in their heads. "Can we save the snog-fest for later, people?" he said. "We're on a deadline here."
"Hey!" Xander said, startled. "Keep out of my brain!"
"Believe me, I would, Lizard-Boy, if you'd keep your so-called mind on the job, instead of copping a feel. Now hop it."
"Geez, it's Squadron Leader Spike," Xander fumed, shouldering his axe, "And I thought he was annoying when he was irresponsible."
"I heard that!"
The heat from below helped them determine the size of the area they needed to cover. Spike, Giles, Anya and Jonathan moved to take their separate places at the corners of a square about twenty-five feet long on each side. Occasional lightning played in the distance, and low-pitched rumblings shook the ground.
As utter blackness fell, Spike waited in silence until all the attention of each magic user was on him, and began the spell. He did it simply, without incantations or gestures; he just held out his arms, and white-glowing tendrils, moving almost with sentience, shot from his outstretched hands, touching Giles on his right and Jonathan on his left. The light flowed through them and on to Anya, passing through her body and swirling upwards in the intricate, shimmering weave they had seen before, but much larger. Thin, radiant vines patterned themselves into a flattened hemisphere, covering the entire area. It was beautiful.
A gentle murmur of voices spoke to each individual mind inside the dome - Spike's voice, Giles voice, and innumerable others mixed together, unidentifiable. "Quiet. Open to it," they whispered. "Guide it. Don't resist." All extraneous sounds seemed to evaporate away, and peace fell within the fragile structure. They felt sheltered, though beyond the perimeter they could still see faint lightening flickers, and hear a distant booming. Time seemed to pass away and with it all sense of strain or urgency. The skillfully harnessed white magic power pouring through them brought a feeling of calm and strength, without any sense of peril.
Buffy and Xander stood outside the swirling magical bubble on either side, heavily armed with crossbows, axes, and swords, their eyes scanning the park for interlopers. They too saw the lightening and heard the thunder, but to Buffy's ears the storm - if that's what it was - seemed to be moving closer. The heat beneath their feet grew stronger, too. Buffy was uneasy. She knew Clem and the boys were patrolling but it seemed unlikely they could take care of every evil creature attracted to the spot. Spike said the Hell-beasts would have gobbled Rack right up; could it be even the usual cast of baddies were frightened of the Hellmouth opening? She hadn't seen any vamps or demons, but her spider-sense was definitely tingling. If they were there, they were hiding - but why? Why not just attack the spellcasters? What were they waiting for?
It was pitch black now except for the light given off by the filigree dome. It was overcast, and not a star could be seen in the sky, and the night of course was moonless. The hollow booming was louder now, and Buffy suddenly realized that it wasn't all thunder - some of that unnerving sound was coming from below them.
"Xander!" she called, "Careful! Might be a quake!"
"Right-oh! Just what we needed!" he answered cheerfully, waving his axe. He looked much more confident; there was something to be said for action over anticipation, Buffy supposed. '"Right-oh"?'
"Otherwise - looking good!"
"Yeah, now if we can only keep -" He was cut off by a huge, deafening clap of thunder right over their heads; at the same time, the ground bucked under them, with a loud cracking noise. Xander was knocked off his feet, but quickly recovered himself - he was a native Californian, after all.
Buffy stood nearest to Jonathan, and through the flickering wall of the enclosure she saw him stagger slightly; but he kept himself upright. He was a native Californian, too. She could barely see the others, though Spike's white head gleamed on the other side. With the tremor the diaphanous structure rippled but didn't fade. The soil inside the center of the circle was smoking and steaming, and the very earth glowed red with heat; but though the ground shook and heaved upwards, the seal held. As long as it was intact, nothing could escape it, no matter what happened.
"Xand!" Buffy yelled over the noise. He waved to signal that he was okay - and then his face changed. He looked past her, his eyes widening. "Bogeys at six o'clock, Buff!" he called, apparently in some R.A.F. fantasy all his own. Buffy spun around.
About two dozen black-robed figures emerged from the edge of the woods and swept in their direction. Despite the dark and the distance, Buffy could just make out their faces - all vampires. Aha! She thought, I knew they were here somewhere! The vampire cultists stopped abruptly and arranged themselves in a line as one stepped forward and raised his hands, beginning to chant. That couldn't be good. Buffy charged towards them, stake in hand, with Xander close behind her quick-firing crossbow bolts.
He dusted three before she even reached them and a fourth as she tackled the head vamp with a vigorous kick to the breastbone. The leader screamed some final unintelligible words just before she thrust her stake through his heart. Buffy stared in puzzled disgust as those remaining un-dusted fell to the ground facing the Hellmouth and prostrated themselves, instead of fighting back. The ground again shook jarringly under her feet, and she heard a shrieking, grinding crash behind her. Almost unwillingly, she turned and looked back.
Throbbing, resonant roars sounded from deep under the earth. At first Buffy hardly understood what she was seeing as the glittering magical tracery of the barrier was suddenly lit scarlet from below. Great flames shot up in the center.
The Hellmouth opened.
TBC
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Come, come, come!
Leave the bed, low, cold, and red,
Strewed beneath a nation dead;
Leave the hatred, as in ashes
Fire is left for future burning;
It will burst in bloodier flashes
When ye stir it, soon returning;
Leave the self-contempt implanted
In young spirits, sense-enchanted,
Misery's yet unkindled fuel;
Leave Hell's secrets half unchanted
To the maniac dreamer; cruel
More than ye can be with hate
Is he with fear.
Come, come, come!
We are steaming up from Hell's wide gate
And we burden the blasts of the atmosphere,
But vainly we toil till ye come here."
Shelley, Prometheus Unbound
Author: Ivytree
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, UPN, Mutant Enemy, etc.
Feedback: Please!
Summary: An alternative ending (which you can bet will never happen) for Ep. 22 of this season, incorporating recent spoilers. The end of BtVS, and the beginning of The Spike Show.
NO MORE SPOILERS
----------------------------------------------------
RETURN
Part 31. Future Burning
"Xander," Anya said softly, "We have to talk."
"Do you think this is the time, Ahn?" Xander said. He was escorting her to her position for the Hellmouth sealing spell. She stopped to face him.
"Yes, right now," she replied, with a fleeting smile. "I just want to tell you this one thing - if I die, I want you to marry a nice girl and live a long, fulfilling life."
"Ahn!" Xander said, shocked. "Don't say that! Don't even think it!"
She put her arms around him, and looked at him with utter sincerity. "I want you to know. After all, anything could happen." At his look of real distress, she stroked his cheek tenderly. "When we were here before - when Spike said I had to make a choice - that's what I thought about. I thought I was going to die, and I knew I just want you to be happy, even without me."
He hugged her tightly to him. "Oh, God, Ahn, how could I be happy without you?"
"But you have to," she insisted. "Promise me you'll try."
"Listen to me," he said forcefully, his dark eyes very serious. "Nothing's going to happen. Everything will be fine. We'll all come through this together, okay?"
They were interrupted by Spike's sarcastic voice sounding in their heads. "Can we save the snog-fest for later, people?" he said. "We're on a deadline here."
"Hey!" Xander said, startled. "Keep out of my brain!"
"Believe me, I would, Lizard-Boy, if you'd keep your so-called mind on the job, instead of copping a feel. Now hop it."
"Geez, it's Squadron Leader Spike," Xander fumed, shouldering his axe, "And I thought he was annoying when he was irresponsible."
"I heard that!"
The heat from below helped them determine the size of the area they needed to cover. Spike, Giles, Anya and Jonathan moved to take their separate places at the corners of a square about twenty-five feet long on each side. Occasional lightning played in the distance, and low-pitched rumblings shook the ground.
As utter blackness fell, Spike waited in silence until all the attention of each magic user was on him, and began the spell. He did it simply, without incantations or gestures; he just held out his arms, and white-glowing tendrils, moving almost with sentience, shot from his outstretched hands, touching Giles on his right and Jonathan on his left. The light flowed through them and on to Anya, passing through her body and swirling upwards in the intricate, shimmering weave they had seen before, but much larger. Thin, radiant vines patterned themselves into a flattened hemisphere, covering the entire area. It was beautiful.
A gentle murmur of voices spoke to each individual mind inside the dome - Spike's voice, Giles voice, and innumerable others mixed together, unidentifiable. "Quiet. Open to it," they whispered. "Guide it. Don't resist." All extraneous sounds seemed to evaporate away, and peace fell within the fragile structure. They felt sheltered, though beyond the perimeter they could still see faint lightening flickers, and hear a distant booming. Time seemed to pass away and with it all sense of strain or urgency. The skillfully harnessed white magic power pouring through them brought a feeling of calm and strength, without any sense of peril.
Buffy and Xander stood outside the swirling magical bubble on either side, heavily armed with crossbows, axes, and swords, their eyes scanning the park for interlopers. They too saw the lightening and heard the thunder, but to Buffy's ears the storm - if that's what it was - seemed to be moving closer. The heat beneath their feet grew stronger, too. Buffy was uneasy. She knew Clem and the boys were patrolling but it seemed unlikely they could take care of every evil creature attracted to the spot. Spike said the Hell-beasts would have gobbled Rack right up; could it be even the usual cast of baddies were frightened of the Hellmouth opening? She hadn't seen any vamps or demons, but her spider-sense was definitely tingling. If they were there, they were hiding - but why? Why not just attack the spellcasters? What were they waiting for?
It was pitch black now except for the light given off by the filigree dome. It was overcast, and not a star could be seen in the sky, and the night of course was moonless. The hollow booming was louder now, and Buffy suddenly realized that it wasn't all thunder - some of that unnerving sound was coming from below them.
"Xander!" she called, "Careful! Might be a quake!"
"Right-oh! Just what we needed!" he answered cheerfully, waving his axe. He looked much more confident; there was something to be said for action over anticipation, Buffy supposed. '"Right-oh"?'
"Otherwise - looking good!"
"Yeah, now if we can only keep -" He was cut off by a huge, deafening clap of thunder right over their heads; at the same time, the ground bucked under them, with a loud cracking noise. Xander was knocked off his feet, but quickly recovered himself - he was a native Californian, after all.
Buffy stood nearest to Jonathan, and through the flickering wall of the enclosure she saw him stagger slightly; but he kept himself upright. He was a native Californian, too. She could barely see the others, though Spike's white head gleamed on the other side. With the tremor the diaphanous structure rippled but didn't fade. The soil inside the center of the circle was smoking and steaming, and the very earth glowed red with heat; but though the ground shook and heaved upwards, the seal held. As long as it was intact, nothing could escape it, no matter what happened.
"Xand!" Buffy yelled over the noise. He waved to signal that he was okay - and then his face changed. He looked past her, his eyes widening. "Bogeys at six o'clock, Buff!" he called, apparently in some R.A.F. fantasy all his own. Buffy spun around.
About two dozen black-robed figures emerged from the edge of the woods and swept in their direction. Despite the dark and the distance, Buffy could just make out their faces - all vampires. Aha! She thought, I knew they were here somewhere! The vampire cultists stopped abruptly and arranged themselves in a line as one stepped forward and raised his hands, beginning to chant. That couldn't be good. Buffy charged towards them, stake in hand, with Xander close behind her quick-firing crossbow bolts.
He dusted three before she even reached them and a fourth as she tackled the head vamp with a vigorous kick to the breastbone. The leader screamed some final unintelligible words just before she thrust her stake through his heart. Buffy stared in puzzled disgust as those remaining un-dusted fell to the ground facing the Hellmouth and prostrated themselves, instead of fighting back. The ground again shook jarringly under her feet, and she heard a shrieking, grinding crash behind her. Almost unwillingly, she turned and looked back.
Throbbing, resonant roars sounded from deep under the earth. At first Buffy hardly understood what she was seeing as the glittering magical tracery of the barrier was suddenly lit scarlet from below. Great flames shot up in the center.
The Hellmouth opened.
TBC
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Come, come, come!
Leave the bed, low, cold, and red,
Strewed beneath a nation dead;
Leave the hatred, as in ashes
Fire is left for future burning;
It will burst in bloodier flashes
When ye stir it, soon returning;
Leave the self-contempt implanted
In young spirits, sense-enchanted,
Misery's yet unkindled fuel;
Leave Hell's secrets half unchanted
To the maniac dreamer; cruel
More than ye can be with hate
Is he with fear.
Come, come, come!
We are steaming up from Hell's wide gate
And we burden the blasts of the atmosphere,
But vainly we toil till ye come here."
Shelley, Prometheus Unbound