A/N: Sorry for the long lag time – unfortunately, I always find writing 'action' scenes incredibly difficult; hence, the slightly shorter chapter. Also, I think this is near the end, folks. One more chapter or so, and then I'm done, done, done!
Thanks go to:
HauntedPast, charmed ravenclaw, chattypandagurl (welcome back!), IcantthinkofaFnick, ilovedrew88, DrewFullerFanLife, Sparkling Cherries and Zeria (In answer (sort of) to your question – the 'darker' tone was due to the influence of watching 24.)
Providence
Chapter 14
Hope in a world like this? Naïve, stupid and crazy – to say the least. And yet, when he speaks, we all listen. When he gives orders, we all follow. While he hopes, we don't give up. I'm not sure which one I fall under, but I'm beginning to suspect it's all three.
-from the memoirs of Leslie St. Claire
Pandemonium ruled.
There were moments that evening when Darryl thought everything looked lost. The two sides met head-on, with a ferocity neither side had experienced before. Everywhere he looked, their people were being cut down, left, right and centre. They wielded their weapons clumsily on the battlefield, hampered by the invisibility of the enemy. Screams and panicked yells sounded in the air, yet the troops stubbornly fought on.
Wyatt's plan had been simple – he'd had his army attack on three points; to the west, to the east and through the middle. It was obvious that he had wanted the middle front to divide the Resistance's forces straight down the middle and then bracket them from both sides, effectively cutting them off.
Darryl was positioned far back from the front lines – as field commander he couldn't risk getting too near the front, but it didn't mean he had to like it. Looking through his binoculars, his eyes were trained on the chaos of the battlefield below. Without shifting his focus, he said to Jack, one of the telepaths, "Tell the left to wheel."
Jack frowned, closing his eyes as he 'sent' the message to his telepathic counterpart. Almost immediately, Slick's team began closing in from their position, pushing forward to the centre.
"Pull them in, now!" Darryl commanded, his attention completely focused on the scene playing out in front of him. Relayed by Jack, the team began to pivot on the centre, creating an opening just to the left of the centre. As he hoped, the demons encouraged by the sign of the humans falling back, pushed forward eagerly.
And quickly found themselves in three to four feet of water and mud.
Darryl allowed himself a small grin of satisfaction as the illusion he'd had Quentin's group lay earlier achieved its objective. Although still cloaked, the mud was clinging to the invisible demons, making it difficult for the demons to manoeuvre and making it easier for the Resistance to approximate the demons' positions as the mud was mucked about. A barrage of arrows from the back were released, arching elegantly over the heads of the Resistance fighters' and burying themselves in the chests of many demons stuck in the mud pit. Those demons struck by arrows let out a small shriek, reappearing abruptly as a flash of fire consumed them, vanquishing them.
"Darryl, there's a situation on the right side!" Jack's eyes were still closed in concentration, "Duncan's team is being overrun!"
"Get Michael and DJ's group to back them up," Darryl shouted over the noise of the fight and the shrieking of fireballs being hurled from the other side. "We can't afford to lose the point!"
Jack nodded, sweat breaking out on his forehead as he frowned again. "Zach's team needs back up! He can't hold the line!" Jack put his hands to his head, his fingertips pushing at his brow, "Quentin's team is down! They're down, Darryl! Slick's being pushed back – we can't hold. We can't hold!"
Darryl stared sightlessly out at the black mushroom clouds rising from the earth, the small fires that littered the landscape and the endless bodies of his friends covering the ground.
Chris…where are you?
Swallowing hard, Darryl turned towards Jack and opened his mouth to give the order to retreat. It didn't matter that holding the train station was a matter of life or death. There was no way they were going to be able to take it; it was now simply a matter of a slow death by thirst or an immediate death by the hands of the demons. "Jack, tell them…tell everyone to pull bac–,"
A sudden cheer arose from the Resistance, causing Darryl to whip his head around.
The demons were visible.
Confused, the demons looked around, quickly realizing that their cover was gone. The Resistance, energized by the sight of the enemy and no longer frustrated by slashing at shadows, let out a roar of battle-rage. Without having to give an order, the teams suddenly pushed forward, ferociously attacking the enemy at hand.
"Chris must have broken the spell," Darryl said, in bemusement.
Grabbing his sword, Jack swooped up a helmet and jammed it on his head. Leaping up, he yelled over his shoulder as he disappeared from Darryl's sight, "I'm going in!"
Nodding his head, Darryl snatched up a nearby crossbow and scrambled after the other man.
And for the first time that day, he felt a renewed sense of hope.
Elsewhere, Bianca too was studying the scene unfolding in front of her. A random shot came from the thickets on her left, the side of the road that lead away from where they needed to go.
"Get down!" Les hissed, yanking on Chris' arm and nearly dislocating his shoulder to pull the young man down next to him behind a couple of conveniently located boulders.
Because the dead zone extended just past the train station, they had been forced to orb in behind enemy lines. In fact, they were positioned just behind Wyatt's forces of demons, and through sheer luck, had managed, so far, to avoid detection.
The battle was well underway. Even from their position, Bianca could see that the two sides were locked in a deadly exchange of life and death. Brilliant colours of red and orange lit up the night sky. Debris from explosions filled the air, raining down small pellets everywhere as fireballs were traded back and forth. Smoke filled her nostrils, making her cough uncontrollably until she covered her nose with her sleeve. She glanced over at her two companions, noticing that both had their sleeves over the lower half of their faces as well. "So what now?"
Chris nodded grimly; his fingers still tightly clenched around the athame, "Let's do this." Without a second glance, he jumped up from their hiding spot and charged forward, leaving the two behind him, gaping in stunned astonishment.
"What? No plan? No, 'Les, you take the left and I'll take the right?'" Les sputtered, shouting after his friend. He blinked in surprise as another blur passed by in his peripheral vision.
"Come on!" Bianca shouted back at Les over her shoulder, her voice filled with more than a hint of mockery, as she too leapt forward to join the fray. "What are you waiting for? An invitation?"
Picking up his crossbow, he groaned, chasing after the other two. "I knew I should have called in sick today…"
Bodies pressed in on all sides of him. He had lost track of Bianca and Les a long time ago. That was okay. He needed some time alone.
If you could call being surrounded by hundreds of demons on a battlefield, alone.
Just once, Chris thought shakily as he used his telekinesis to throw a bunch of demons back, just once I'd like things to go my way! If anyone is listening up there, Mom, Grandpa, Aunt Phoebe, Aunt Paige…hell, even Dad!…I could really use some luck right now!
Chris had rushed headlong into the confused chaos, finding himself quickly surrounded by demons. Battling his way towards the middle, he used his telekinesis ruthlessly and efficiently, hurling demons out of his path. Five demons converged on him and he dove to his left, rolling and managing to pick up an abandoned axe as he came to his feet. He bashed in the skull of one demon with the stick end before cleaving another in half with the blade.
A sword flashed, appearing seemingly out of nowhere and he barely managed to avoid it before kicking in the teeth of its owner. He slashed clumsily with the axe, grimacing as it missed its intended target and only served to infuriate the demon more. It launched itself at him and he somersaulted over, using his telekinesis to help him. Landing neatly on his feet, he whirled, effectively severing one of the demon's arms from its torso. Ignoring its shrieks of pain, he back-pedaled, just missing his nose from being cut off from the last demon attacker. It glanced to its left and then its right, suddenly realizing it was the only one of its 'friend's left standing. Chris pulled his lips back in a snarl and before he could growl a taunt, the demon abruptly turned tail and ran away.
About to push forward again, Chris realized that that demon wasn't the only one turning coward and fleeing away as fast as he could. Through the swirls of dust and smoke, Chris could see that the Resistance was gaining ground. Obviously, the loss of the cloaking spell had put a huge dent in the demons attack. In the surrounding mayhem, he saw a flash of a familiar face – "Zach!" His friend momentarily diverted his attention towards Chris, his face lighting up with recognition. Chris waved at the lines of demons breaking rank and heading for the west, even casting aside weapons in order to run away faster. Already, some of the Resistance fighters were giving chase, carried away by their battle-fever. "Zach! Get those fools back here, for Christ's sake!" Chris cursed, as Zach nodded.
The massed frontal assault on the Resistance had been met by the desperate defence efforts. But at an enormous cost. Everywhere he looked, the dead and injured littered the battlefield.
But they had won.
Barely.
The fight was nearly over. The loss of their cloaking had thrown the demons for a loop and given the Resistance newfound energy. Poor coordination and lack of cooperation was resulting in an offensive attack that quickly descended into chaos. As the demons realized that their offensive advantage was gone, they began to retreat, fleeing the scene, unwilling to put their lives on the line.
That only served to resolve the Resistance's vigour. Bianca admired the grit and determination of the Resistance as they continued to push forward, chasing the demons down.
With a flick of her wrist, she released the throwing knife from her wrist sheath, smiling in satisfaction as she brought a demon down, clutching its leg painfully. Before the demon could recover, she swooped in and with a quick twist of her arms, she heard that satisfying crack sound as she broke its neck. Scooping up her victim's weapon, her mind registered the weight and the length of the sword as she quickly gave it a couple of practice thrusts. No time for that now, she thought to herself before, out of the corner of her eye, she saw another demon try to rush her.
Whirling around, she smiled with grim humour as her sword met the soft flesh of the demon and it immediately burst into flames. This is almost too easy, she scoffed to herself. Joining the edge of melee, she swung the sword fiercely, almost relieved to be putting her skills to use to what she did best. Now this! This is what I was trained to do!
She danced and skipped, fairly flying through her attacks with the agility and the grace of a deadly ballet dancer. Her blood sang with anticipation as she felled her enemies one by one. In the back of her mind, she admired her own handiwork, experiencing a sick sense of pride as she neatly decapitated one demon before hacking another one completely in half. It didn't matter that they were demons or that she was fighting on the side of the Resistance. All that mattered was that she was once again doing what she had been born to do.
Out of the corner of her eye, something caught her attention. Almost lost in the haze of bloodlust running through her veins, she nearly missed it.
It was Les.
Fighting valiantly against a demon, who, judging from her experienced eyes, was a much better swordsman than Les. She reluctantly admitted to herself that Les was giving a good account of himself, using the crossbow to desperately block the demon's vicious blows, but it was clear he wasn't going to last long.
If you hurt him, I'll kill you.
He doesn't feel the same way. How could he? You're a cold-blooded killer…Just so we're clear.
Here was her chance. He wasn't her friend – she had no obligation to look after him. All she had to do was look away. And her chief irritant, her biggest opponent – would be taken care of. And mostly through no fault of her own.
She watched impassively as he stumbled to the ground and the demon stalked towards him threateningly.
She saw the demon smile evilly as his sword pierced Les' leg and Les screamed in pain.
She looked on as the demon laughed mockingly as he raised his sword over his head, ready to deliver the deathblow.
Oh for Christ's sake!, she thought.
Unable to help herself, she launched herself desperately at them, hoping that she'd be able to intercept in time. She did better than that; her sword meeting the demon's with a metal clang! Shooting a quick glance at Les, she noticed he had presence of mind to roll out of the way, his hands wrapped around his wounded leg.
Turning her gaze back to the demon, Bianca narrowed her eyes. Slowly, she backed away, her gaze focused on the demon in front of her. She hunkered down into a half-crouch, eyeing the demon like an experienced street fighter.
The demon leaped at her and they tumbled together into a heap; she rolled, cursing as the demon's sword managed to slash a shallow cut across her forearm as she moved too slowly. Coming to her feet, she brought her sword around up over her head into a deadly arc, slicing viciously at the demon's head. He blocked, snarling as their swords broke free and they returned to circling each other warily. He sneered, "First blood."
She feinted, concentrating on the demon's eyes, knowing that they would tell her what his next move would be…
He charged her unexpectedly, forcing her to duck and roll again. Leaping back up onto her feet, she scrambled back, faltering a little as she desperately tried to move out of the way. The demon's mouth pulled back in a toothless grin, sure that he had the assassin cornered. Slowly he advanced upon her, his sword swaying menacingly from side to side before he swung it ferociously at her head.
She evaded the attack but acquired two more bone bruises on her left arm as she blocked his kicks. Her arm throbbed with pain, doing nothing to calm her temper. That's it! Enough of this defensive shit. This arrogant bastard needs to be shown just who's the better fighter here.
"My turn, you bastard," she spat back, ignoring the blood welling from her wound and dripping slowly down her arm. He drove at her, and instead of jumping back in a defensive crouch away from the blow like any novice knew to do, she lunged into it – thrusting upward with all her might. She felt the searing pain of his sword as it glanced off her shoulder, catching the tail end of the descent of the weapon. Grimacing, she kept pushing upwards as her sword found its mark, hearing a scream like nothing she'd ever heard before, as she separated the demon's head from the rest of his body. She jerked her sword free, "Last blood, you piece of shit."
The adrenaline fading, and with it, the full force of pain from her severed nerve endings came screaming back. She cradled her bleeding arm, folding up around it protectively. She started as she felt a gentle touch on her good shoulder.
Les had painfully crawled on his hands, dragging himself from his fallen position to collapse next to Bianca. He cradled his left leg painfully, as he struggled into a sitting position next to his saviour, "Thanks."
She snorted slightly. "Your sword technique needs work."
"Excuse me?"
"You're clumsy, slow and inefficient. You've survived this long due to luck as far as I can see," Bianca shrugged. "You're damn lucky I was around to save your butt. Next time you won't be so lucky."
"Your welcome."
She shook her head, puzzled by his response. "Huh?"
"I said, 'thank you.' You respond, 'your welcome.' People call it being polite," Les pointed out mildly. He looked down at his heavily bleeding leg, asking hopefully, "Think we could get a whitelighter over here to fix us up?"
She looked at him, as if weighing her reply, "Looks like things are pretty much finishing up. We should be able to get some attention soon."
Les's eyes unfocused, as he mindsent for help, "They'll get to us as soon as they get to those with critical wounds first."
"Fine," Bianca replied crisply, still coddling her tender arm and shoulder.
"Fine."
The two sat in uncomfortable silence, watching as the rest of the Resistance finished driving the rapidly retreating demons off, unsure of what else to way to each other.
Bianca thought about all the events that had happened today. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to cut Les some slack. After all, he had thanked her. She turned to face him, his eyes popping open at the sound of her movement. A peace offering was definitely due.
Maybe it was time to bury the hatchet…so to speak.
Her tone was grudging, "Your welcome."
He laughed.
Whitelighters were scattered throughout, healing those they could and comforting those they could not.
Chris leaned heavily against a nearby rock, his head hanging. There was a long shallow gash in his leg and multiple nicks and cuts along his arms, all bleeding lightly. He couldn't recall how he had gotten any of them.
God, he was tired.
He glanced up at the sound of his name being called.
Les, his eyes looking unnaturally white with his face covered with grim and soot, "You should get that looked at…"
"I'm fine," Chris replied curtly.
"Still…"
"I said I'm fine!" Chris snapped, irritated. "Just tell me what our status is."
"The demons retreated – the whitelighters are treating the wounded now. Looks like upwards of 15 per cent in casualties. I won't know more solid numbers till we get back to base," Les looked over his shoulder at the battle scene. "What do you want me to do?"
Rubbing his forehead wearily, Chris tried to gather his wits, "We need to get the wounded back to base ASAP. Who's team is the most intact?"
Les closed his eyes, concentrating for a moment as he took a quick survey, "DJ's team seems to be the least injured. Mostly superficial wounds and they only have a couple dead."
Chris straightened, "Good. Tell him his team's in charge of holding our position. I want a whitelighter assigned to his team to fix whoever they can on site. Get him to establish a firm perimeter within the hour and I want a roving scout team as support. Got it?"
Les nodded, "Done. Anything else?"
Chris shook his head, "Nothing a good week's worth of sleep can't cure."
Les turned to walk away, limping slightly and favouring his right leg, before pausing and turning back, asking, "What happened back there, Chris? Back at Wyatt's?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Chris replied gruffly.
"Look," Les said, rather impatiently, "I can guess what happened. It was pretty obvious. Kid - you only did what you had to do,"
Chris snorted, "No, I chose to do it. There's a difference,"
"Sometimes…sometimes you have to do the wrong thing for the right reason," Les offered. "Sometimes…you have to make a compromise."
"Thanks for your blessing. I certainly feel better now," Chris said, sarcastically.
"You did what you thought you had to do to save your friends and family," Les counselled impatiently. "No one can fault you for that."
Chris scoffed, "Good to know."
Exasperated, Les threw his arms up in the air. It was useless to argue on a subject neither would ever agree on. "Look – I just wanted you to know…I understand. And if you need someone to talk to about it…"
"I don't," Chris said, rather shortly.
Unable to get Chris to meet his eyes, Les finally looked away in frustration. "Fine. I'll see you back at base, okay?" Receiving no response, Les sighed and walked away.
"Les – wait…" Chris called, watching as Les' back stiffened before he turned around to face him. "Look – I…"
"Yeah, Chris?" Les waited expectantly.
Chris opened his mouth, before snapping it shut. Mumbling, "It's…it's nothing. I'll see you back at base."
"All right."
He needed to get away. Turning abruptly in the opposite direction, Chris began to push himself forward, into the nearby forest. His heart pumping, the blood pounding, he started to hyperventilate. Stumbling into the woods, he latched out for purchase, finding himself grabbing hold of a large tree.
You did what you thought you had to do to save your friends and family.
No one can fault you for that.
His mother's voice rang in his ears.
Family comes first, Chris.
The pain in his chest tightened, and pushing himself away from the tree, he crouched over, his arms resting on his knees, his head down. He cringed, remembering Wyatt's painful screams and eyes wild with pure hatred. He had done that. He had done that to his own brother. He had known when he had first set out what the likely result would be. Murder, probably. His own death, a very likely possibility. But he hadn't gone in thinking he wouldn't be able to eliminate his brother for the greater good. He hadn't thought that his promise to his mother would reassert itself so strongly. And he hadn't thought he would have to torture his brother instead.
'Have to' being the operative phrase. Had he really had no other choice? Had there really been no other way to break the spell?
Chris wasn't so sure.
Maybe…maybe he should have killed Wyatt…maybe…maybe that would have been better.
Or in some ways, easier.
You're just like me. You're JUST like me.
He retched at the thought, tasting the salty bile on his tongue as he emptied what little was in his stomach. Disgusted with himself, he leaned heavily against the tree trunk, trying to take deep, even breaths. Cool hands cupped his head, holding him steady. A cup of water appeared in front of him. His hands were trembling so much that the water sloshed over the brim of the cup and Bianca's hands came up to cover his in order to steady it. Carefully, she helped him bring the cup to his mouth, and he swallowed greedily, revelling in the feel of the cool water sliding down his raw throat.
"It's called shock."
He arched an eyebrow at her in question.
"Your trembling hands, the retching…You're experiencing shock," Bianca gently explained.
"I know what shock is," Chris said dismissively. "I'm not some country yokel. I've fought in more than my fair share of battles. I hardly think anything I saw out there today would cause me shock."
"No," Bianca agreed. "But your reactions are consistent with delayed reaction."
"And I suppose you're going to tell me now what this delayed reaction is to?" Chris scoffed.
Bianca shrugged. "To what happened this afternoon."
"I don't have to listen to this," Chris crossed his arms defensively, glaring at Bianca.
"No. No, you don't," she said simply.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He admitted grudgingly, "He was right, you know." At Bianca's questioning look, Chris said softly, reflecting, "I am just like him."
"Who? Wyatt?" Bianca shook her head. "You can't possibly believe that."
Chris snorted.
"You're not a killer…at least of humans, anyways. Isn't that what you told me? Unless something's changed since we last talked?" Bianca arched her eyebrow in question. Receiving no response, she continued, "Look, take it from someone who knows a little something about walking on the dark side…and you might have flirted with it, but it wasn't anything more than a one night stand."
"I think you lost me somewhere with the dating analogy…" Chris rolled his eyes.
"We all have to make sacrifices…some good, some bad. We don't always get to know which kind they are until we've made them," Bianca explained, searching for the right words to comfort him. Her heart ached for this young man. "And sometimes…sometimes we make really bad ones."
"So you're saying what I did was okay given the circumstances?" Chris said, sardonically. "Good to know I have your blessing too."
"Too?"
Chris gave a harsh laugh, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "Les couldn't tell me fast enough that I did what I had to do. That I did it for our family and friends. Guess that makes me a hero, eh?"
She heard the cynicism in his voice, but more, she read the self-recrimination and guilt bubbling beneath the surface. She knew that telling Chris that he had made the right choice, as Les had, would only infuriate Chris further. He was angry, angry at the situation, angry at his actions and most of all, angry with himself. As she watched him wrestle with his guilt and frustration, she knew he needed to hear the truth. Chris didn't need sympathy or a pat on the back. He didn't need someone to put him on a pedestal and excuse his actions as part of a higher purpose.
What he needed was someone who understood what he had done and what it had cost him.
He needed someone who could see his faults and accept them as a part of him.
He needed someone who understood that it was done, and the only option left was to continue forward.
He needed someone who…understood.
"No. What I'm saying is – what you did…your actions…it was unacceptable," Bianca let her words sink in, giving him the raw truth. She watched his reaction carefully, knowing her words stung.
Chris visibly flinched.
Bianca placed her hand gently on his arm, before saying gently, "But that doesn't mean you are unacceptable."
He jerked his head up, meeting her eyes. And saw the same tortured expression in hers. The same knowledge of choices made and done.
The same regret.
"Bianca, I –,"
A voice interrupted, "Chris!"
They both turned towards the newcomer; Chris, slightly irritated by the interruption, his tone clipped, "Yes?"
It was Zach. Dirty, sweaty, and breathing heavily. His forehead bore a bruise and there was a shiner forming under his left eye. But otherwise he appeared unscathed. Ignoring Bianca, he directed his gaze to Chris, "I just talked to Les. Chris, the next twenty-four hours are critical. We're going to need that bridge up and running."
Running his hand through his hair, Chris threw Bianca an apologetic look before stepping forward to deal with this new complication, "Touch base with Duncan. He was suppose to have everything in place the last time I talked to him." At Zach's questioning look, "I had Duncan organize a team of engineers back at base build most of the bridge in sections. We just need the whitelighters to orb the pieces here and you should be able to slam together the new construct in under three hours. Coordinate with Duncan and Quentin, will you?"
Chris turned to move away when Zach called for him to wait. Turning back with just a touch of exasperation, Chris sighed, "Yeah?"
Zach's eyes were focused on something to the left of Chris as he spoke, "I guess you didn't hear…"
"What didn't I hear?" Chris asked impatiently.
Still unable to meet Chris' gaze, Zach looked out across the now still battlefield, "It's Quentin. Chris – he didn't make it."
"Jesus," Chris rubbed his face wearily, closing his eyes. He shook his head, saying quietly, "God damn it all."
Knowing Chris wasn't looking at him, Zach nodded unnecessarily, saying, before taking his leave, "I'll touch base with Duncan and get things coordinated." Without waiting for a response, Zach pivoted on his heel and left.
Clearing her throat awkwardly, Bianca said to Chris regretfully, "I'm sorry. I know he was your friend."
Chris didn't reply for several minutes. Collecting himself, he finally opened his eyes to meet hers. His eyes were a brilliant emerald green. His voice was low and thick, "You'll have to excuse me, I need to coordinate with Darryl on our next moves."
She had half expected such a reaction. Like her, he was use to hiding his emotions behind a mask. She nodded slowly, saying merely, "I understand."
His eyes widened slightly at her cryptic response before narrowing, "I'll make sure someone takes you back to base." He began to head back in the direction of the trenches.
"Is that because you still don't trust me?" Bianca called after him, her voice taunting.
He paused, but didn't turn around, "No, that's because I'm afraid someone might hurt you. It's for your own protection, Bianca. There will be quite a few people who won't be happy that a former assassin and follower of Wyatt's is now one of us. And there will be even more people who will be sure it's a trick."
She swallowed audibly, before saying with false bravado, "I can take care of myself."
Chris continued walking away, "I'll send Slick to get you. Don't go anywhere without him. Period."
"Didn't you hear a word I just said?" Bianca yelled indignantly, slightly insulted that he didn't think she could handle herself all the while her common sense was screaming at her to shut up!
Chris gave her a little wave goodbye without even bothering to turn around, "Your welcome."
Left alone on the outskirts of the Resistance's activity, Bianca grumbled to herself. Once again, the familiar thought rose in her mind, abet with significantly less rancour than previously…
Bastard.
And her lips curled into a slight begrudging smile.
To be continued…..
