Author's Note: To Allen Pitt: Oh my God, someone else has read "Fray"? Awesome comic book, and that's where I got the premise for this story. Let's just hope that Tru doesn't turn out like Harth!
To Darklight: I totally agree. Sorry 'bout that.
To Panther28: So many questions! What's wrong with Ron? Oh, you'll see. He's outside of his school (I kinda inserted that somewhere in that part, I believe). I'll tackle the other questions in this chapter or somewhere in the story.
To elfin2: I'll work on that, if I can ;)
Half & Half
Chapter Four: Return To Me
"So this is how many apocalypses for us now?" —Buffy, 'The Gift'
Planes are so clean. And Dawn liked it. The orderly, corporate smell, and the infinite number of wrappers in her snack basket. She admired the snack itself, which in its glossy wrap looked a lot like a Chinese finger trap or something of the like, but it was to her pleasure a chocolate bar. And this was no cheap Hershey's bar that still tasted fine and dandy, it was genuine gourmet chocolate. She bit into it nervously as she looked down through the window. The Atlantic Ocean spread out beneath the aircraft, a steel gray in the darkness of the treacherous storm. Most of the Scooby gang was asleep by now, despite that the it was the latter part of the afternoon.
Her blonde older sister Buffy was one of the many who still lurked within the dreams that were accustomed to the Slayer.
"Oh, Elise, we're so sorry for your loss."
Joyce Summers whispered the sentence into her half-sister's ear, embracing her in front of the horrifyingly miniature casket. Joyce, too, was a mother, and understood as well as anyone of her the young woman's grief. Well, if that were to happen to Buffy…
The little baby in her husband's arms was asleep, and oblivious to the sadness surrounding the tiny, blonde infant. Hank was already seated in the back of the chapel with Buffy, and waited for Joyce.
Joyce and Elise pulled away from each other, but Elise suddenly grabbed her half-sister's hand, and whispered in her ear. "I know I haven't really been there for you, big sis, but thank you for coming." Her eyes were swimming in ears as she finished, and the misery parade continued.
Joyce seated herself next to her spouse and daughter, grateful that her family was alive and well.
She noticed that across the aisle, closer to the casket was the younger half of the Davies family, Meredith, a young little girl, and Tru, the surviving half of the twins that had been born a week ago today…
A petite five-year-old girl, garbed in a pink dress and sporting black pigtails and bright green eyes walked up calmly to Elise, and whispered…
"Buffy," Dawn nudged her elder sister, six years her senior. "The plane's gonna land soon." She informed her, getting up. "I better wake Xander, Willow, Giles, and Oz up too."
"Okay," Buffy replied groggily. Another dream… but it didn't seem like the Slayer dreams she usually had. It was a funeral. And her mom and dad were there… everybody looked so familiar…
"Hey Buffy," Willow had turned around her seat, which was in the row in front of her own, her chin resting on the top of it. "Are you sure Dawn's right? I mean, hey, primordial evil is something we've totally dealt with, but still… this is really big."
"This is really big," Buffy repeated. "I just hope that this isn't it. The end, I mean."
"I can't believe Randall would do something like that," Lindsay finished, a few stray tears still swimming in her eyes as she accounted the tale on the couch, Harrison sitting on it with her. "I can't believe he would cheat on me… especially on our honeymoon, of all times…" she sniffled a little, then met Harry's gaze. "Am I boring you?" she asked, a small smile curving the ends of her lips.
"Oh no, not ever," Harrison replied, with a strange amount of sincerity in his voice. "I'm just—" he cut himself off, no one speaking for a while.
"Just what, Harry?" she inquired, her fingertips touching his hand.
He sighed. "Lindsay, I still haven't gotten over you. I don't think I ever will, because there's no one in the world that I can imagine being with other than you. I—I'm just happy that you're here." He knew that this probably wasn't enough to sway his ex-girlfriend, who happened to be Tru's best friend
"Really?"
A small knock on the door interrupted Harrison's answer, and he got up off of the couch to answer it.
"Uh—hi… I—um, I'm Lily… I—I live in the apartment down the hall," the clearly shy, blonde, four-year-old informed Harrison. "A—Are you T-Tru's brother?" she asked, looking down at the carpet.
"Uh, yeah." Harrison answered, curious of what this little girl, Lily, wanted.
"M—My Mommy and Daddy went to the hospit—hospit—hospital" she struggled with the pronunciation of 'hospital'. "Because Mom's havin' a b-b-baby, and I'm all alone in my ap-apartment. I'm scared. I don't like storms. And being all alone. Can I stay with you guys for a little while?" Lily questioned, her voice faster and a little uneasy.
Harrison nodded, not noticing a pair of unnaturally ice blue eyes peering outside the window, in the rain…
The creature greeted him as he entered the piece of forest that looked out of place, which, in actuality, was a portal. The school forest was now replaced with a steaming tropical jungle, in total darkness. The only illumination was two horrible blood red eyes, the pupils silted, and blood veins that really stood out, lacing the edges.
Ronald, I've lived since far before your time, and I've come to despise your kind. I want revenge. And you do, too. It began. Those bullies picking on you, your horrid social life, your dead parents thanks to a mob in New York City being bored. You want vengeance for what caused those things, do you not?
"Yes." Ron answered, his voice almost sounding as if it was hypnotized. "Revenge."
Then be my servant, carry out the tasks. I've waited for too long in the underground the pathetic, disgusting humans had driven me into to do nothing. I've decided, though, to wait a small amount of time to make the humans and the Slayers wish they were dead. Drive them into wars, a Great War, my loyal servant. Destroy the Slayers, first, though. Strike their leader's heart, ram it into despair. Make the two Halves wish they were dead. And then grant their wish. Kill them.
"But how am I to do this?"
A large sword fell onto the ground, its blade red and aflame, carvings of runes and other ancient texts all over it.
Use this, and go to the New York. Unite the vampires from a hellmouth in New York City, and lead them here… to the two Halves.
"Who are the two Halves?"
A Slayer, separated into two entities. A Slayer of vampires and demons. And you will become the Slayer of Slayers. You know of these so-called myths, true?
"Yes, sir, my father was a Watcher."
Disgusting. But you are the only one who can do this. Take the blade, and lead them. Kill them. And you will be rewarded, my servant.
Ron picked up the blade, grasping it firmly and smiling. He felt stronger. Faster. Wiser. He started off to the portal, but the voice of the creature stopped him in his tracks.
The pair of brunettes stood stoic amidst the metal tables covered with corpses draped with white cloth and the tools used to slice them open. Each stared at the other with heavy brown eyes, each silently pointing out the identical similarities. That was, until Davis, Tru's coworker and friend entered the morgue, explaining himself.
"Sorry, Tru," the bearded young man began with an apology. "It's just that things just started happening so fast and I totaled my ca—" Davis's eyes suddenly caught onto Faith. "Oh my God."
"That's what I keep saying." Tru replied. "Uh—Faith, this is Davis, Davis, this is Faith."
"Huh?" was all he could say.
"Apparently, we're twins," Faith said, eyeing Davis's expression. "Yeah, I know, I'm thinking the same thing."
"What would that be?" Tru asked.
"'What the fuck is going on?' would sum it up."
In the bleak, sullen shadows of the morgue, the icy blue eyes appeared once more, but this time, they came out of hiding.
She had a slender, delicate-looking frame, long brown locks streaked with royal blue jutting through the mousy brunette. Her torso and limbs were encased in an exoskeleton-like leather outfit, and the edges of her face and collarbone area were laced with blue scales.
It was Illyria.
Next Chapter: Buffy and the Scoobies arrive at the morgue as Illyria explains the War; T'healal rounds up the vampires to attack Tru's apartment; ... ... and ... ... some more stuff ;)