Chapter 37 - Into the Fray
Angel meets us, not inside the Wolfram and Hart building, but at an anonymous looking entrance to an apparently different building. According to Wes, it's one of several ways into the building used only by senior employees or clients who, for whatever reason, don't want to be seen doing business with a firm of Wolfram and Hart's reputation. And I wonder why that might be.
Once inside, the discrete security melts away at the sight of Angel. To my surprise, Fred's there too, and she greets us warmly, if a little nervously when it comes to Spike. Angel starts giving us a sales pitch which sounds pretty bogus to me, but which doesn't seem to alarm any of the others who're around. In fact, part of the reason it sounds so bad is the fact that Angel seems acutely embarrassed by the whole thing. I can hear it in his tone of voice, and Spike's smirk shows he noticed too. I glare at Spike to make sure he keeps his mouth shut, and we continue from the reception area into a private lift for which Angel produces a key.
Once inside, Angel hits a code, and the lift descends rapidly.
"Those security staff don't have any way of knowing where this lift is going once I've activated my personal code," he informs us. "Hopefully, they believe you're just potential clients come to view the facilities. In fact, we're going to one of the lowest basement levels."
"Any particular reason?" I ask. "Lucy didn't say anything about the level of the building we need to be on."
"Privacy," Angel replies. "The upper basements are used for storage and so on and don't have a lot of staff, but there's always the possibility of meeting someone who might just ask questions we'd rather not answer. The lower we go, the less likely that is to happen."
"I take it we're going to the catacombs," Wes states, looking to Angel for confirmation.
"Yes. I gave some thought to the best area of the building, and that seemed where we're least likely to be interrupted. No one currently has any reason to be there."
"The catacombs?" Spike asks. "We're not in bloody Rome, mate."
"Naturally," Wes agrees, stepping between Spike and Angel as he sees Angel stiffen at Spike's tone. "It's just what they're known as on the building plan. I suspect it's whatever was on this site a long time before the current building, or even, before the city itself was founded. It's a small group of interconnecting caves which we believe were once used for some sort of demon worship, but the best minds in the company have agreed has no remaining mystical energy associated with them."
"If it's so dead, why is it accessible from the rest of the building?" Spike insists, asking Wes, but giving Angel a sidelong glance as he does so.
"I did actually investigate this when we first arrived. Apparently, that level of the basement was intended for further storage, and that's why it was excavated. This was back in the thirties, and there was a particular project on the books which required some rather specialised storage. Anyway, the cave system was found, and people were sent in to investigate, but before the investigation was complete, the project was cancelled, and the catacombs remained undisturbed."
"When Angel told me what you planned, and that he was going to bring you down here, I agreed it seemed to be a good option," Fred offers. "I know a bit about opening portals, and some of them can get a bit out of hand. Where we're going? It withstood every earthquake California has experienced in more years than we've been keeping records about earthquakes. It should be the safest option."
She turns her attention to Willow. "I don't know exactly what you're doing, but Angel did say he could do with someone to keep you company while the rest of you are gone."
Willow smiles her thanks, but remains quiet, trying to focus on what she's about to do.
She doesn't add the possible need to get Willow out of the building if things go wrong, but I know she means that too.
The elevator lurches to a stop, and the door opens to reveal an anonymous-looking corridor.
"Doesn't look a lot like catacombs to me," Spike mutters, under his breath but loud enough to be heard.
Angel ignores the comment, but Fred seems happy to answer.
"Well, no. To get there, we have to go down some stairs. There didn't seem to be any point in putting in a lift shaft if it wasn't going to be used after all."
We walk past numbered rooms, all of which seem to be locked, and reach another door. Angel opens it, and we follow him onto a ledge which overlooks a large, eerily lit cavern. We climb down some rough steps to the floor, and I take a good look around. The lighting seemed to come on as we arrived, but I can't see its source.
Angel doesn't stop once at the bottom of the stairs, but walks purposefully through the cavern towards an opening in the furthest wall. Once there, another cavern becomes illuminated, and once we're all through, the lighting behind us winks out.
Angel moves towards one wall of the cavern where the ceiling is lower than elsewhere, and where we're out of a direct line with the doorway through which we entered.
"Here ok?" he asks.
The question seems to be directed to Willow, and she answers that it's fine, then sets about arranging what she needs. Spike and I help, pulling the various things out of the bags we carried here, and placing them to her directions. Wes and Angel stand close together chatting, but I can tell from their tones that neither of them is entirely comfortable in the other's company.
When Willow's ready, we gather up our weapons, and stand together waiting for the portal to open. Willow looks determined as she sits there, her arms outstretched, her palms upward as she begins her work. Fred is standing to one side, watching, and not a little wary - perhaps not surprising considering what I know about her past.
It doesn't take too long - the portal appears in front of us, and with a shared glance, the four of us form into a line and move towards it, I go first, with Spike behind me, and Wes and Angel follow.
There's some initial disorientation as I step through, so I take a deep breath and make an effort to shake it off. When I look around, though, the first thing I notice is that I'm alone.
My first thought is that something went wrong - something about the portal means that we've been sent to different places. Well, as long as I've come to the right place, I can finish off the Senior Partners and then work out where the others are.
I'm in a room. It's bare, with apparently wooden flooring, but the walls are black. I approach the closest of them, and reach out a hand. It's smooth, like plastic, and as I touch it, it's as though it changes, becoming transparent. On the other side of the wall is Spike, looking as bewildered as I feel.
"Any sign of the others?" I ask, wondering if he'll hear me.
"Thought I was alone till I saw you," he answers, but then I hear two other voices. I walk in the direction of one of them - another wall of my room. I touch it as I did before, and it melts into transparency to show Wesley.
"Angel?" I ask.
Wes shakes his head, but from behind me I hear Angel's voice, so I approach the opposite wall and touch it. Again, it shifts, clearing, and I see Angel too.
"So, what now?" Spike asks, and I turn to him.
"Welcome," a disembodied voice sounds. "We had hoped to avoid this confrontation, since we would have preferred to have you as an ally, Slayer. However, since you come here armed, and with others, you will meet your end. It seems a terrible waste, but it was your choice."
"And Angel," it continues. "Et tu, Brute? Isn't that the appropriate phrase from human literature and history? After everything we gave you, all the power we offered, still you betray us. Is this woman really so special? That you would give up everything for her even though she has shown herself faithless, choosing another instead of you?"
"This has nothing to do with Buffy. It's simply a question of doing what's right."
"You don't fool us, vampire. We understand your motivation, even if you delude yourself. Still, you can still change your mind, and in the instant of your changing your mind you will be transported to your office, with nothing changed. Perhaps we can even persuade the woman to change her mind? Or would it be enough simply to have her, even if her mind was broken?"
"It's an empty promise you're making. You've given me the chance of Buffy's shell, or at best, Buffy against her will. Yes, I love her. I think I always will, but I want her to want to be with me. If I can't have that, then it would be meaningless."
"So, you reject our offer. So be it."
I catch Angel's eye as the voice goes quiet, and I can see his love for me in his eyes. It makes me sad to know that he realises that what I felt when I was sixteen wasn't enough to withstand the process of growing up, but I send him a silent 'thank you' by way of a nod which he returns.
"And you, Watcher? You too? Did we not give you your heart's desire? Knowledge without bounds? Books you believed no longer in existence? Surely we do not deserve this from you?"
"Whatever you have given me," Wes responds clearly, "is nothing compared with what you have taken from me."
"And, pray, what have we taken from you? We can think of nothing"
"My integrity, my self respect, and most recently, my wife and my unborn child."
"No, no, Wesley. We haven't taken those first two. If you have lost them in any measure, it is entirely your own doing. And your wife? We had no hand in that. Certainly, we would have liked to have made her acquaintance in person, but we have never had that privilege. However, if you would like to turn your back on this foolish undertaking, you too might be restored to your previous life. In fact, without Angel, we'll be needing someone else to take over. Doesn't that appeal at all? How often in these past years has the need to subjugate your own opinions to Angel's rankled with you? Imagine how much good you would be able to do without his dubious morality to steer you wrong? And you know, it's only a matter of time before we find your wife. And when we do, it would be a simple matter to restore her to you. Even for us to remove the memories of this time from her so that she can bear your child without any shadows looming over her."
"If I take your offer, I don't deserve her," he answers.
"So be it," the voice replies.
"And you, William the Bloody? Is this what you have become? Truly, you were more terrifying as a poet than you are now. After everything you've done, everything you've experienced, your only ambition is to be the Slayer's lap dog. It's pitiful, really. Yet you too, could achieve so much with our help. Imagine what you could achieve with Wolfram and Hart. It would be the chance to be somebody of your own - not just the childe of the mad vampire, or the butt of the Slayer's jokes. Does that not tempt you at all?"
"What?" Spike answers, his voice incredulous. "That the best you can offer me? The chance to follow in Angel's shoes again? Do you have any idea how old that is?"
"Yet your mind is full of countless times when you were made to feel worthless. Surely one such as you would yearn to have power? To be able to grind those who belittled you under your heel?"
"I'm not saying there aren't those I'd like to cock a snook at, but, compared to what I've got now? Really not worth it."
He catches my eye as he says that, and I smile back at him, hoping that the smile confirms that he's got me, because I know that's what he means.
"Very well, if you're all determined to be destroyed, I suppose we'd better get on with it."
"What d'you say we change the rules here, boys?" Spike says, starting to kick the wall between our two rooms in an attempt to break the barrier. "They want us separate? I'd prefer we're all together."
Angel and Wes respond, using fists and knives to try to break down the walls, and I join the effort. However, after several minutes and no discernible damage, we come to the conclusion that that's not going to work.
"I've heard a lot about the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart. But I'd never figured they'd be cowards," I shout in an attempt to gain their attention.
There's no immediate response, but a short while later, I start to feel something, whispering at my mind. I can't picture anything, it's not that clear, but it's a feeling that makes me shiver despite feeling anything but cold. A glance at Spike suggests he's getting the same as me, but he's actually sweating.
"What is it?" I ask him.
"They're playing with our minds. Trying their tricks." Then in a louder voice he continues. "They're afraid to face us, Pet. Using their mind tricks, trying to send us mad. It's not going to work."
The sensation goes then, but I know they're not finished yet. I glance at Wes and he looks at me encouragingly. Angel's just looking angry.
Something changes then. The wall between Angel and me seems to flash or something, but when I look again, nothing's changed. Except that suddenly, there's a crossbow bolt coming from nowhere straight to Angel's heart. He explodes into a cloud of dust which has me scurrying to the wall that separates us.
"One down," the disembodied voice says, and I turn away, checking that Spike's ok. It looks like he saw what I did, and the look of shock is clear on his face. "Anyone ready to change sides?"
"Still scared to show yourselves," Spike says. "I expected better."
"Watch and learn," the voice replies, and there's a similar flash from the wall that separates me from Wesley, and I turn in time to see Lilah in the room with him. I gasp, horrified at the implications. If Lilah's been here all this time, then Gina's lost. Wesley makes the same connection, and approaches her with something like madness in his eyes. He hits her, and she laughs before drawing a knife from somewhere, and brandishing it towards him. Maddened by grief, he runs at her anyway, and then seems shocked as the knife is thrust into him, and twisted. He falls to the ground his face contorted with pain, and the blood pools around him.
"Wes," I call, rushing towards him, but I know there's nothing I can do. He's dying, losing blood so fast he can't last for long.
"Wes, I'll get them. I promise, I'll destroy them. For you and Gina, and Angel."
There are tears forming in my eyes, but I blink them away. I don't have time to think about Angel or Wes, not right now. When I turn around again, the wall separating me from Angel has gone dark again, as if to shroud his ashes in dignity or something, but I can't think about that now. I return to the wall through which Spike is looking as shocked as I feel.
"Spike," I say. "How?"
"I don't know. I … There's something, but … Where did Wes' sword go?"
As we're talking, the wall between us shimmers, and then there's something behind Spike. It's a demon, huge, scaly, its mouth big enough to swallow a man whole, and it's approaching Spike with awful intent. And then I spot that Spike's sword has gone too. Disappeared, just like Wes'. I start to kick at the wall between us, desperately trying to get through to help him, but the wall just won't give. Not at all.
"Spike!" I scream, but he's not paying any attention, desperately trying to move away from the demon, but there's nowhere to run to. He's fast, but speed doesn't count for anything when there's nowhere to go, and I know it's only a matter of time before the end.
I turn from the scene, and yell at our unseen captors instead.
"What do you want? Come here, let me see you, you cowards."
And then, he's there. He looks like a deer, a hart, I assume, but the face isn't the sort of thing you usually see on such an animal. There's nothing benign or harmless about that face. It's evil, so evil that the expression alone is almost more than I can bear to look at.
And then it dawns on me. There's something different now, because I've still got my sword. I run a hand over my clothing, and my other weapons are still where I left them. So why, if the others had their weapons taken from them, have I been left with mine?
"Well, you wanted to see us. I doubt you'll get the chance to see the others since I fully intend to kill you, but I can't offer you anything better."
"So, why did you draw the short straw? Why you and not one of the others? Why not all three?"
"Why send three to do what one can do alone?"
I hear a scream then, bloodcurdling, and I glance at the wall that had separated me from Spike, but it's black. I can only assume that Spike has also been killed, and I'm filled with a rage like I've never known before. Part of me wants to fall to my knees and scream out my pain, but the rest of me knows I'll have the rest of my life to mourn him. Now it's time for revenge.
I rush at the creature in front of me, my sword in my hand, determined not just to kill him, but to destroy him totally. I swing the sword, bringing it down towards his neck, but he's moved, rearing on hind legs, and changing, melting into a man who looks achingly familiar.
"Would it be easier if I looked like this?" he asks. And Wes' face is there in front of me, looking at me, and I stop, frozen in place. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear Spike's voice again, telling me that they're playing with my mind, and I shake my head.
"I'd rather you showed me your own face, so I can remember the face of evil, but it really doesn't make any difference to me."
I swing my sword again, but again the body in front of me changes, becoming my mother. This time I don't hesitate, but carry on with my attack, only to have the creature, with agility completely beyond any human, jump out of the way, pulling out a sword of its own.
"Ah, even this image won't make you pause," my mother's voice says. "Maybe this one."
And it shimmers and becomes Spike. I fist away the tears that are forming in my eyes, fury building even higher in me.
"Look like yourself. You don't deserve to wear their faces. You don't have that right."
I lunge again, determined to be rid of the travesty in front of me, but it changes again, turning into a man of six feet with black hair and dark eyes - a typical Carnolan, except for the expression on his face which is like that of the hart I first saw - filled with hatred.
I heave a sigh of relief. Killing that - no problem at all. And so we start to fight - really fight. And for the first time, I see a lack of confidence on his face. He's still sneering, and I know it's not going to be easy, but, for the first time I realise that it's just another demon. I've done this so many times before, fighting, desperate to stay alive.
"I've got to wonder why you're still trying," he says, picking himself up off the floor after a particularly athletic tumble. "I mean, all your friends are dead. Angel, staked. Poor Wesley, killed by the woman he failed to save, and Spike, destroyed by a hunger greater even than his. And when you're gone, what's left to protect the others? It would have been so much easier if you'd just done as we asked and destroyed the rest of Carnolan. Not so difficult, with the resources of all those Slayers you have these days. But now, you're going to die, and then so will they. All of them. The shedding of your blood in this place will ensure enough power for us to be able to destroy all of them, all the Carnolan, and every Slayer who exists anywhere. And with all of them gone, there will be no more."
Listening to him, but at the same time planning my next move, I wonder about what he's saying. Does he really think I'll just give up because they've destroyed Angel, Wes and Spike? Do they think I'm just going to lie down and die?
I lunge again, taking him by surprise, and this time, I manage to draw blood.
"Maybe it's your blood that's going to be shed. Ever think of that? If you think I've got nothing to live for, then you're wrong. Because, right now, the only thing I have left is wanting to destroy you."