The Archer

Xander sat outside the school, eating his lunch with Oz. Neither Buffy nor Willow were there yet, which led to the conclusion of 'girl talk.' A subject which neither wished to get involved in.

"Xander," said Oz, "Do you remember when I asked you about meditation?"

"Yeah," said Xander, "The only time we got around to it was when we were putting the band together. Still interested?"

"Now more than ever," said Oz, "Figure that if I can tap into wolf's power, I can be more of an asset to everyone."

"Logical. Tell you what: stop by tonight and I'll give you a hand. We might have company, so, don't be surprised."

"Who might the company be? Aside from Faith."

"There's Faith, then possibly Jack O'Toole. Zombie."

"Interesting."

"What about the first time we meditated? Any change since then?"

"I've tried to imitate it. I got a vision of that Olvikan thing. Creepy."

"…We may have had the same vision. Can you read auras?"

"A little bit, yeah. Listen, I'm going to go and get some more food. I'm very hungry."

"Go eat your wolfy heart out."

Oz smiled slightly and walked up to the school and entered the cafeteria. He got in line and waited for it to get up to the food, and as he waited, he tested his aura reading abilities. He felt a mixture of sadness, lust, rage, and…

There was something inside the room, something that felt…odd. It was below sanity, something primal. A treacherous rage that was directed at every single person inside the room. It was so great that Oz began to pant for breath. He tried to single the person out, but the room was so full of people that he couldn't discover who it was. Finally, he just gave up and left the room.

"Xander," he called once he was outside, "Something's up."

"And you're sure that they were going to do something," asked Giles a little while later in the library.

The entire group was gathered there, sans Angel due to the unlack in sunlight. Oz had just finished his story over what he felt and now they were considering possibilities.

"They were insane," said Oz, "And they had just reached their climax. Whoever it is will strike in two days, at the most. With that level of anger, I wouldn't be surprised if they struck today."

"We need to compile a list of who all was in the lunch room at that time," said Wesley, who was out of the hospital due to the Council's intervention.

"Agreed," said Giles, "Um, Xander, why don't you and Oz begin a…what would you call it? Aura scan?"

"That works," said Xander, "Oz and I'll start right after we get a figure on who was in there. Faith, you'll help too, right?"

"Gee, let me think," said Faith, "Should I help stop a massacre? What a doosy that is?"

Xander was about to plead, knowing she would anyway, when the library doors opened.

"What's he doing here," asked Willow in disgust. She had always hated Jack O'Toole ever sine grade school.

"He's here because I offered to help him," said Xander.

"Also, because I'm a zombie," said Jack.

"You're a zombie," asked Buffy.

"Yeah," admitted Jack, desperately wanting to get onto another line of subject as he did so, even though he knew he brought it upon himself.

"He's asked me to train him so that he can be an effective demon slayer," said Xander, "And I offered him my help. He may be a zombie, but he's discovered his second chance. I respect the necessity of the second chance, and this is his own. If he blows it, then I'll deal with it accordingly."

"In other words," said Jack, "I won't blow it."

"Why don't we talk in private," suggested Xander. He led Jack back into the stacks and began to talk with him.

"Any other ideas," asked Faith, trying to get the conversation back on something that could truly risk lives.

"Well," suggested Buffy, "If someone is planning a massacre, then maybe they'd send a letter in explaining his actions."

"Like to the school newspaper," figured Cordelia, "It's one of the best places to go if you want to send a letter in that won't be seen for a few weeks."

"Well, it's a start," said Wesley, whose admiration and attraction for the bombshell of a girl was growing by the minute, "Why don't you and Buffy go to the newspaper office? They should still be here."

Buffy and Cordelia simultaneously stood up then walked out the library. Faith stayed there, wanting to talk with her boyfriend. Willow was wondering about Xander's sudden friendship with Jack O'Toole, seeing as how just a while ago he was a school bully. Oz was thinking about how this whole meditation thing could go down. The first time had been alright, and fairly relaxing, but…what would it be like being able to communicate with the werewolf.

Finally, Xander and Jack walked back from the stacks, Xander handing the zombie a paper as they moved.

"Meet me here at ten and we'll go from there," said Xander, "And keep on alert. Looks like we might have a massacre on our hands."

"Can I help," asked Jack.

"Do you know who around here that might want to kill people," asked Giles.

"Nearly everyone," said Jack, "A bunch of frustrated teenagers all together in one building. Things can get worked up. I'll let you know if I come across something."

Jack nodded to him and walked out the library. Xander turned to Oz.

"Be there by then," said Xander.

"No problem," answered Oz.

"Guys," said Buffy as she and Cordelia walked inside, "I think we might know who we're looking for."

"Who," asked Wesley.

"Jonathan," said Cordelia, "He sent a letter in talking about how sorry he was and a bunch of other stuff."

"May I see," asked Giles.

Buffy handed him the letter and he quickly read it. Then, he handed it to Wesley, taking his glasses off as he did so. He began to polish them as Wesley handed the letter off to Xander, and the young Brit began to polish his own glasses. Xander quickly read it, then sighed to himself.

"It's too difficult to surmise his motives," said Xander, "Anger directed at everyone can mean many things. From what Oz said, it was extremely powerful. Was there a center?"

"No," said Oz, "It was just…everywhere."

"…In that case, I think it's probably an attempt at massacre," said Xander.

"We meet here tomorrow morning at six," said Giles as he put back on his glasses, "Then, we find Jonathan and bring an end to this before anyone gets hurt."

"So, how does this work," asked Jack later that night inside Xander's apartment. He was there with Oz, Xander, and Faith.

"You just focus and take deep breaths," said Faith, "We three will create a line for you to follow, and will guide you down it."

Jack nodded, thinking he understood, then closed his eyes and focused on the world around him.

Oz felt the cold, wet forest as he ran through it. He felt the lure of the moon, the call of the wild. He felt the wind in his hair and the lust for the kill. He turned to look at his companion, the werewolf, as it ran beside him. He could hear its voice, though it was not speaking. Like that small voice within the back of one's head, though it was much louder. He learned all that wolf knew, and then he learned just how important it was to accept what you were, not to try and deny it. It opened so many doors that denying it closed.

Jack dove for cover as bullets whizzed through the jungle, tearing branches and leaves to shreds. He crouched down inside the small trench, then checked his ammo.

"Any of you got a bandoleer," he shouted over the gunfire.

Soldier shook his head, as did Xander, but Faith reached into her pocket and drew one out. She tossed it to him and he reloaded his weapon.

"You went through this shit," called Jack to soldier.

The veteran merely nodded. Then, the onslaught of gunfire ceased. Soldier motioned for them to keep quiet while he listened for any sound. Then, they heard a leaf crack. Instantly, the four unleashed gunfire.

Faith and Willow were patrolling the corridors of the school the next morning, searching for any sign of trouble. So far, everything was quiet.

"So," said Willow in an attempt at conversation, "How are you and Xander?"

"…We're strained," said Faith, "Ever since Dom came back, we've both been on edge. It's gotten so bad that we both sleep with knives underneath our pillows. The only time we've really relaxed was when we played for the Dingoes."

"Do you sleep together?"

"Yes, but with no lack of sleep. We just climb into bed and fall asleep. Sometimes I have my arm over him, but mostly I just turn away. Sometimes, I wake up at night and find him sleeping with a scowl on his face. He's gone back to meditating instead of just sleeping, and it's putting a strain on him. Before, he could survive it, but he'd cooled off on the meditation for that long that it's gotten to him."

"He's worried. It's natural."

"I don't want him to worry. I want him to feel good."

"I think that's a part of why he took Jack underneath his wing. He felt good helping someone discover themselves."

"More like he recruited him for the cause."

Buffy and Oz were walking through the back of the school, where all the sports events that were outside were held. Teams were there that morning for early practice, thus making them prime targets for a massacre.

"How are things, Oz," asked Buffy.

"Good. You?"

"Alright. You and Willow?"

"Good. Angel?"

"Good."

"One of us needs to stop saying good before Webster sues us for using it too much."

"You're right. We haven't talked in so long that…come to think of it, I've never talked with you before. Not really."

"Well, let's talk."

"…"

"…"

Xander sighed as he scanned the horizon in the quad. He could feel an enraged aura, one who's attention was currently focused on its task. It was almost surgical. It was difficult to determine where it came from, what with the quad already being filled with students, chatting and yelling. It was truly deafening. Suddenly, the aura became crystal clear.

Xander ran forward and jumped up onto the stairs, then leapt up onto the roof. None of the students looked up at him, all of them used to ignoring the odd. He ran along the roof until he got to the tower, then leapt through the window. There, Jonathan had just finished putting together his rifle. He aimed it at Xander.

"Don't try and stop me," he said, his face sweating from his feelings.

"Can't do that, Jonathan," said Xander.

"Why can't you just leave me be," he growled.

"Because, right now, you don't need to be left alone. You have a high powered rifle in your hands, loaded, and you're about to make a big mistake using it."

"What does it matter anymore? What does any of it matter?"

"You know, I find myself asking that very same question nearly every day of my life. In the end, it only matters as much as you want it to."

"Stop…doing that! Stop talking to me like we're friends! We're not friends."

The archer shook his head, realizing that something was off about this one's attitude. He was refusing, and he now had to break through that barrier. Joy.

"…You know, I honestly wish I could just snap your neck for you. How would you like that? Me ending your life instead of the other way around? Cause, you know I could do it."

"…I know."

"Instead of which, right now you have a…Wait a minute. I recognize that rifle. That's Special Issue U.S. Navy SEAL, codenamed Longbow. Why are you using a weapon that isn't even supposed to exist?"

"Just go away!"

"OK, fine. We'll stop talking abut the rifle. How about we talk about why you're up here."

"I just want it to stop. All you people think I'm an idiot. A short idiot!"

"I doubt coming up here with that is going to improve people's attitudes about you."

Xander sighed, then walked over to the nearby desk and sat down. He focused on Jonathan's aura…it was filled with sadness and pain, and most of the sadness was directed at himself, but the anger…that went out everywhere, but…it wasn't homicidal. It was like regular hate. Something clicked within Xander's mind. Jonathan wasn't up here to kill others; he was up here to kill himself.

"I don't think about you that much," Xander said, "Neither do all those people down there. We're all too busy dealing with our own shit to worry about anyone else. We're all a bunch of selfish individuals, and we know it, too. Jonathan…what happened?"

"…My father. Died."

"I'm sorry for your loss. I'm guessing that's where you got the rifle? From your dad's locker or something like that?"

"Underneath his bed."

"Well, how did he die? If he was a SEAL, then it was probable KIA."

"…Yeah."

"Did he love you?"

"He was the one thing keeping me going. He respected me. Not like you all."

"And do you think you're respecting him by slaughtering yourself? By using his own rifle, nonetheless."

"…"

"Jonathan, take a look out there."

Jonathan backed away slightly, but then walked forward. He came to the window, keeping Xander covered as he did so.

"See all those people down there," said Xander, "See how peaceful it looks? It's nowhere near peaceful. It's worse down there than fighting in the Middle East is. People down there are having to deal with their own problems. See that guy in the gray jacket? He has to appear in court next week. See that girl down there with barely any cloths on? She got raped as a child. I got beat as a child, but I just reconciled with my father. And my aunt is out there, somewhere, trying to kill everyone and everything she can.

"Jonathan, we all have our problems. It's a part of life. But, do you know what we can do about it? We can go on. We can make the best of everything, not try to solve every single problem through one simple act. If you put that bullet through your skull, then that's it. Nothing else. You want the pain of loss to go away? Killing yourself won't help. It will only make things worse for those left behind.

"Pain is simultaneously the worst and best emotion a human can go through. If you pull through, that pain will make it easier for you in the future. Trust me. I know about pain. Now, and here's the question that you have to ask yourself, is the right course of action squeezing that trigger? Making everyone's life here different, worse, and ending your own? Or, is the right course of action to unload it and put it away?"

Jonathan looked up at him, then looked down at the rifle. He gripped the bolt, twisted, and then let the bullet fall to the ground.

"I just wanted it to stop," whispered the distraught teenager.

"Killing yourself would make it stop for you," said Xander, "But, it would only make it worse for everyone else."

"I don't know what to do."

"No one ever does. Life comes at you, and you're left there wondering 'how did this happen?' Jonathan, you have a special gift here: life. Use it wisely. Do the right thing."

"…How did you know what kind of rifle it was?"

"You remember Halloween? How everyone got turned into their costume?"

"Yeah."

"I was a soldier."

"…Wow. Wish something along those lines could happen to me."

"No. You don't."

Jack walked up to the cafeteria. Jonathan hadn't been found yet, and time was running out before classes started. Jack walked up to the lunch bar and looked behind it, thinking that Jonathan could be hiding back there. Instead, he saw an open box of rat poison sitting near

"What the Hell," he asked himself.

He walked through to the other side of the kitchen, and looked around. At first everything looked ordinary. The breakfast was crappy, and so was the upcoming lunch, then he noticed the lunch lady…leaning over a pot and pouring rat poison inside. For a moment, he made eye contact with her, then he took off out the room.

He ran into the cafeteria and shoved the food off the first table he saw.

"Rat poison," he shouted.

He kicked another table over, then knocked the food out of some poor guy's hands. He turned around as he heard the doors open, then saw the lunch lady charge in with a butcher knife in her hands. Jack dodged the first strike, then grabbed her hand as she laid down another blow.

"Cool down, lady," he said.

"Vermin," she mocked, "You're all vermin."

"You're not much better," said Jack.

He twisted her wrist and she dropped the knife, then she thrust her fist at him, but a hand caught her arm.

"That's not very nice," said Buffy.

"How is Jonathan doing," Giles asked that afternoon.

"He's doing well," said Xander, "He's having some trouble adjusting, but that's expected."

"Are you gonna help him out," asked Oz.

"Course I am," answered Xander, "It would be wrong to just save him then leave him on his own. I'll teach him meditation."

"What about that lunch lady," asked Jack, "What was her deal?"

"She was on the FBI's most wanted list," said Willow, "She did that before in New York."

"So, she'll be in jail for a long time," said Buffy.

"We can hope," said Wesley.