FIC: A New World (6/?)

"Excuse me sir."

Gareth Young looked behind him to see a stocky, one-eyed man hurrying to him. He pulled away from his phone call to speak to the brown-haired stranger. "Yes?"

"I need your mobile," the young man offered him a handful of notes. "Here's two hundred and forty pounds."

Noting the wild-eyed look in the thick-set man's eye, he took a step backwards. "Not interested," he replied. "It has all my numbers."

"I'm afraid," the young man grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a head butt, the blow shattering the bridge of his nose, blood gushing out instantly. "I have to insist." His mouth opened in a scream that turned into a croak when his assailant drove a fist into his stomach. Legs buckling beneath him, he fell on his side onto the pavement, lungs wheezing for air. "Sorry about this, but my need is greater etc, etc." He felt his assailant shove the proffered notes in his hand before striding away.


Giles stared at him with bulging eyes as he climbed back into the car. "You mugged that man!" the Watcher exclaimed.

"Really?" Xander snapped back as the car screeched away from the kerb, a sour taste in his mouth from his actions. "I hadn't noticed Mr. Joyrider. I offered him two hundred and forty pounds for a fifty pound phone but he wasn't interested. And we need it more."

His defence given, he dialled both Buffy and Will's numbers in quick succession but to his dismay he only got their answering machines. "Nothing?"

He shook his head at Giles' muttered question. "Nothing," he confirmed. The two of them exchanged troubled glances.

"Give me the phone I wanna ring Fang."

"No, I'm afraid not," Giles shook his head. "We can't be sure that-."

"GMan," Xander interrupted, his tone soft yet firm. Looking into the back of the vehicle he couldn't help but emphasise with the desperation and pain in the east coast native's liquid eyes. Despite being sandwiched between her sister Slayers, Faith looked like the loneliest person in the world. "Who's your senior Slayer?"

After a few seconds the Englishman answered reluctantly. "Faith."

"Then trust her to make the right decision," he passed the mobile through the gap between the two front seats. "There you go Faith."


Faith stared at the offered phone, amazed that Xander would take her side. Finally she reached out a trembling hand and took the mobile with a grateful nod. For a moment she stared at the phone frozen with fearful indecision. What if Fang was gone too? Then she'd had no-one again. Finally she forced her trepidation down deep and dialled her mentor's number.
Angel stopped and groaned when his mobile began ringing again. For a clandestine escape it wasn't exactly stealthy. And, Angel's brow furrowed, he belatedly realised that someone, probably Spike, had re-programmed his ring-tone as 'Sesame Street'.

Deciding to keep his new ring-tone in tribute to his fallen grand-childe, Angel pulled out his phone and squinted at the display. Not recognising the number he was tempted to ignore it, but eventually curiosity got the better of him. "Hello?"

"The bastards killed him."

Angel blinked, as a greeting it was unusual and the speaker's trembling voice was almost unrecognisable. Almost. "Killed who Faith?" he asked, his tone soft.

"My Robbie," the brunette's voice broke off, "they bombed the Council Keep." Angel's mouth dropped open. Who would dare attack the new, more proactive, Council? "I wasn't with him when he died. I failed him Fang, just like," the girl took a rattling breath, "just like I fail everyone."

"Now listen to me Faith," pushing aside his shock, Angel injected a firm note into his voice. "I never met your boyfriend," probably saved him from having to kick the stupid bastard's ass when he tried to stake him and Spike, "but from what you've told me he wouldn't want you to die for him. Understand?"

"Yeah."

His protégé's whispered agreement was less than heartfelt but he knew that there was little he could immediately do from this distance. "Is there anybody with you?" God, if Faith was on her own in this state, with her self-destructive history.

"Yeah, couple of other Slayers, G, and Xan."

Angel sighed with relief. Well that was something. Aside from Wesley he respected Giles more than any man he'd ever known and Xander was a loyal and reliable friend. "Could I speak to Giles or Xander?"

"Yeah."

A second later. "Hello?"

Xander. Angel winced. This was going to be a fun conversation. "Xander what happened? Faith's a little hazy?"

"Someone fired a rocket into the keep."

The Scooby's reply hit him like a thunderbolt. He glanced towards Illyria, realising the goddess in her inexperience of the modern world had thought a missile attack was a dragon. "Same thing happened here. It wiped out most of my team. How many dead on your side?"

There was a pause before the young man replied. "About eighty."

"Damn," Angel closed his eyes for a second in a gesture of respect for fellow fallen warriors. "Xander," he swallowed. "I've got some bad news."

"Yeah?" the young man's voice was wary.

"I just got a phone call from my son," Angel paused; this was so hard to even say. Gathering his courage, he continued. "He's in Italy. He'd gone to ask Buffy to help me but found her dead but he did manage to rescue Dawn from some vampires."

"God no," Xander's voice cracked slightly. "But Dawn Patrol's safe?"

"For the moment," Angel replied. "Connor's looking after her for the moment. But I'm heading out there as soon as possible."

"So will we," Xander paused. "Us, you, Buffy, and Willow too. There's something really heavy after us isn't there?"

"There is," he confirmed. "Keep in touch and an eye on Faith for me."

"I will," Xander promised before hanging up.

Angel stared at the phone for a few seconds before pocketing it. "Compassion makes one weak."

"You think so?" Angel turned to the resurrected Old One. "Compassion makes humans stronger than you could imagine. Caring," he thought of Buffy, Cordelia, and Connor, "loving, takes more courage than anything in the world, because to care opens you up to the possibility of loss." He turned away from the goddess.

"Where are we going?" Illyria demanded in that curiously metallic voice of hers.

"To steal an airplane."


Giles looked around the boarding house rooms he'd rented under an assumed name, he was devastated by Buffy and, by obvious conclusion, Willow's deaths, but there would be time to grieve later. He had other responsibilities to his other charges, especially Dawn. "What do we know about our adversaries?"

"Nothing," Faith muttered, the rage she'd confronted him with at Zabuto's had left her eyes, leaving the usually energetic Slayer looking dull and lifeless. "We know fuck all."

"Actually," Xander leaned forward, his single eye intent. "We know a lot. They've got serious resources. They managed four simultaneous hits across the globe, using a variety of methods – including demons and hi-tech military hardw-."

"Five possibly," Giles corrected.

"Sorry?" Xander stared at him.

"I've tried to contact Julia Lee, the head of Watcher East, but nothing."

"Damn," Xander looked deep into his eyes. "They're also really well informed. They knew where and when to strike."

"But who are they?" Vi interrupted, quiet desperation in her eyes.

There was silence for a few seconds. "Maybe someone governmental. Maybe Riley could give us a head's up?" Xander suggested.

"No," Giles shook his head. "Riley disappeared just over four months ago."

"Ah hell," Xander groaned. "A pre-emptive strike?"

"Quite possibly, although his wife Samantha had recently died at a band of Qwar-Laks. So perhaps he's simply deserted, doesn't feel up to fighting anymore," Giles replied. "Our immediate priority is getting to Dawn. The question is how do we do that discreetly?"

"Leave that to me," Xander said.


Xander took a rattling breath as he stepped out of the room he was sharing with Giles. They'd tried Willow's number several times in the last few hours without success. Willow and Buffy, his life-long friend and his hero both dead.

"Time to grieve later," he muttered. He'd grieved enough in the past year, allowed his anger and pain to hurt those closest to him. His priority now had to be Dawn, Giles, and, he knocked on the next guest room door, Faith. "Faith, can I come in?"

"L…leave me alone."

Xander's hand dropped to the door handle and hesitated. "You know," he decided talking through the door was possibly safer. "I forgave you the moment you walked through Buffy's front door. Coming to help us took real courage. But afterwards, after Anya died, I hated you, the girl who'd tried to kill me, for living when the woman I love died." Xander took a breath, forcing oxygen past the lump in his throat. "That's what grief does to you, it take away your reason. Don't let that happen to you, Anya wouldn't have wanted it for me and Wood wouldn't want it for you. There's plenty of people who care-."

"Sure there is," Faith responded, a world of bitterness in her pain-filled voice.

He ignored the interruption. "Do what I didn't and talk to someone. If not me, there's Giles, Rona, and Vi. We all care." He waited for an invitation to come in. When he didn't get one, he walked away. He'd try again later.