Epilogue
1944 – Barnstead Manor
"So how is Mr McKinley coming along Mr Rutherford?" The elder watcher asked of his younger counterpart whom was descending the stairs into the front foyer.
"Fine as far as I can tell, he said he had put all but the last ward in, something about moving rooms." Rutherford replied nonchalantly, bored by the milk run he had been sent on.
"Good to know, now Mr Rutherford do you care to help me to put the final ward in." The older man queried.
Rutherford looked down at the ceremonial circle that had been drawn onto the floor in his absence. It contained a small pile of objects in the middle and was surrounded by other miscellaneous magic bits that he had no idea about. He looked back up at his superior Milton Whitby, "No disrespect sir, but I cannot see why we do not just use the Hell's Gate key, close the Sunnydale Hellmouth and all the potential hellmouths and be done with it. We know Hitler has his occult hunters trying to find the key, among other unsavoury characters be they human or demon, though those definitions seem to be indistinguishable these days. Even with all these wards surely that would be the safest avenue."
His superior gave a rather unnerving smile before handing Rutherford a small glass bottle. "That would be nice Mr Rutherford but unfortunately you do not seem to realise that this universe of ours is based on balance. If we were to do something like that it would tips the scales in our favour and the cosmic backlash to even those scales could very well be something far worse then a few half dormant hell mouths. This here is a measure that I believe will keep the key perfectly safe for eternity, all you need do is simply throw the contents into circle when I finish speaking." After receiving a strained nod he added arrogantly, "Oh and Mr Rutherford, do not step inside the circle, I do not believe you would like the outcome."
Rutherford grimaced, he was really not a fan of magic and did not appreciate coming all the way to America in the middle of a major war to put a dangerous object which had the ability to destroy humanity into a house in the middle of nowhere with only some spells to protect it, much less have to put up with this pompous idiot and his pathetic assistant as well.
Ignoring the younger watcher, Whitby turned to his assistant who was working in the corner of the room screwing a plaque into the wall, "Mr Travers have you finished."
"Yes sir." The other man replied, stepping back to admire his handy work, impressed that he had managed to secure the plaque so it was straight, and to think he only got a bare pass in tech at school. He headed to the middle of the foyer to join the other two near the circle.
Whitby handed the approaching Travers a small bottle before pulling a leather bound book from a satchel on the floor. Opening it to the book-marked page he then proceeded to chant a passage from the book, ignoring the swirling wind and lights from inside the circle that followed.
Rutherford tried to pay attention to what was being spoken to try and figure out what the point of this was, but as far he could figure the language was in an ancient Norse tongue and was not having much luck, his specialty was Gaelic and Ancient Mediterranean languages. Seeing the swirling lights and wind though indicated it must be rather powerful and really could not see why they were using a spell caster if Whitby had this kind of power.
Whitby finished the final part of his incantation and followed this by throwing a glass container into the middle causing it to smash and add a colourful blue swirl into the already swirling wind and lights. Rutherford and Travers threw theirs next adding two more colours to the swirl making it grow in intensity until it suddenly stopped, dissipating into the room.
Rutherford started coughing as some of the coloured dust got into his nose and mouth. "Right, well now that we are done, should I go find Mr McKinley." Rutherford asked roughly, his patience having been sorely tested the last few days.
"No need to bother Mr Rutherford, he should be down shortly. Why don't you go outside and get the car running, we should be outside shortly." Whitby replied smiling.
"Fine." Rutherford replied curtly, still trying to get the taste of the coloured dust out of his mouth as he left the house, carrying what few bags they had brought with them.
Waiting until he had left Whitby and Travers waited near the circle before moving to the corner of the room where Travers had been working.
"Nice, I think that should suffice." Whitby remarked cheerily to Travers who was now starting to look a little apprehensive, something that Whitby noticed. "Don't worry so much boy, this had to be done for the sake of us all. Now all we have to do is be sure of the fate of the key." The final comment made as he pulled a wrapped up object out of his jacket pocket.
Travers watched as Whitby unwrapped the softly glowing object, the Hell's Gate key, the key that was to have been placed in a room in the house so it could be protected. Both men looked at it briefly taking in its mundane beauty that underscored its abilities before Whitby simply let go, letting it crash to the floor, where upon it shattered into nothing more then dust.
"Rather fragile for something quite so dangerous, no?" Whitby queried, smiling, before walking away to the door leaving Travers near the now destroyed artefact.
Travers looked down at the ground at the remains of the key before looking back at the plaque, 'Michael McKinley, 1911-1944, Humanitarian'. Such a quaint way to say he died for the sake of humanity, at least Whitby thought so; Travers just hoped it was all worth it. Sure a better solution could have been found, he left the house, locking the door behind him and leaving the key on top of the door frame before moving to the nearby car. Glad to be finally going home to his wife and their new born son.
Rutherford walked out of the house into the balmy Californian night; dusk had just fallen and with the darkness came some relief from the warm summer's day. Luckily the lights from inside of the house lit the front area of the house with their glow making his approach to the car easy as he fumbled in his jacket pockets for the key. He eventually found them and opened up the car putting the bags into the boot he then got into the drivers seat and proceeded to start the engine. Now all he had to do was wait for the other three to finish.
Within minutes Whitby walked out of the house looking smug as usual and approached the car at a slow gait. Halfway to the car he stopped and turned, having heard Travers at the door he decided to wait for him. The younger man quickly caught up and they both moved to the car, both men getting into the back seat.
"Let us leave Mr Rutherford." Whitby remarked when the car did not drive off immediately.
"What about McKinley?" Rutherford asked turning around to the men in the back seat, he had been at least expecting to wait until everyone was ready to leave.
"No need to worry about him, he is just staying behind for a while to make sure the wards are secure, he has his own plans, no need for us to wait." Whitby remarked ardently.
Rutherford noticed a strange look pass Traver's face before turning back around, putting the car into gear and driving towards the estate's front gate.
"So the artefact is safe then?" Rutherford queried.
"As safe as houses Mr Rutherford, as safe as houses"
The End
Okay folks, hope you enjoyed the story, I still might rewrite some parts of it yet so if you have any suggestions on places for improvement, please do not hesitate to let me know.
I have a few other stories to go on with, most set in the second and third season, but I do have a brief outline for a story to be set post season 7 which flits between a few years in the future to 15 years in the future, where a new more dangerous evil has started to materialise. So if you have any preferences which you would like to see first, please let me know.
Anyway thanks for reading and thanks for your kind reviews.
