LEGAL A/N: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all characters belong to Joss Whedon, Fox, UPN and the WB. The Dead Zone and all characters belong to Shawn & Michael Piller, Stephen King, Lion's Gate Television and USA Network. No profit is being made off of this and no copyright infringement is intended.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Sequel to Real. Post-BTVS S7 "Chosen" and post-DZ S4 "Vanguard"

9: Desperate Measures

Bruce and Walt sat on a couch against a hotel room wall with anxious expressions on their faces. Around them, Giles, Willow, Dawn and Xander stood authoritatively as they tried to extract information from the two of them, however they couldn't tell them much except that Buffy was in danger and Johnny made it their mission to save her. Although their lack of knowledge was only slowing things down, they stopped treating one another like "the bad guys," but still kept their suspicious stares.

Giles shook his head and removed his glasses tiredly. "I don't believe a single word of it," he declared, after Bruce had told them everything that he knew of Buffy's future demise.

"It's not anything you'd like to think about," Walt added with a bit of sympathy. "But as hard as it is to believe - Johnny's visions are never wrong."

"That's a fact," Bruce agreed, nodding his head.

"Well, maybe he's interpreting them wrong," Giles spat in denial.

Dawn, an expression of worry plastered on her face, turned to Willow, Xander and Giles with wide eyes. "We have to find Buffy," she pleaded. "Now."

"That's kind of been our mission," Xander answered. "But how?"

Willow explained, "The-the locator spell doesn't seem to be working."

Walt stared at her with stunned eyes. "The what?"

"A locator spell," Willow repeated.

Bruce and Walt were shocked into silence as Bruce sighed and went along with the whole thing. Walt shook his head, holding up his hands in disagreement, "Whoa… this can't be real—"

"We're in the Twilight Zone," Bruce said to Walt. "Remember?" He turned to Willow and the Scoobies. "Continue."

Dawn asked impatiently, "Why isn't it working?"

"It's kind of like a traffic jam," Willow replied slowly. "There's a lot of mystical energy flying around this city. It's kind of like a big, witch clog or something."

"This looks like a job for…" Xander announced in a mighty voice, but then let the volume fade away as he struggled to think of the end of the sentence. "Uh… Drain-O Man?"

"Even with such a population as this," Giles said as he pondered the facts, "it's extremely unlikely that the small amount of energy from the sum of spells being conducted could jam a locator spell."

"Not a small amount of energy," Willow clarified. "We're talking sumo energy."

Giles stared at her inquisitively as a grim expression formed on his face. "Which would suggest one, major spell instead of millions of small ones."

"You saying someone's trying to pull the wool over our eyes?" Xander asked. "Whatever that expression means."

Willow and Giles stared at each other with growing worry and suspicion. "A demon birth?" Giles suggested.

"A resurrection?" Willow added.

Giles looked over at the baffled Bangor-ians. "Do you two know anything about this?"

Bruce shook his head in confusion. "The only resurrections I know about are Alien and Halloween."

"Oh, those sucked," Xander answered quickly. They turned to him, giving him a bemused look. "Sorry," Xander apologized, blushing sheepishly.

"Wait, I have an idea," Willow announced suddenly. "I think I can make it work."

"How?" Dawn asked.

"Unfortunately," Willow responded with a long face, "it'll involve temporarily leaving the plane."

"That's extremely dangerous," Giles warned with concern.

She looked at him with a sigh as she shrugged, "Desperate times…"

Johnny sat at a diner table wearing the dark blue, button-up shirt he'd worn last night as the morning light shined down on him. He sat inside of the small diner near Central Park, stirring his coffee idly and intently staring at the empty plate that he had all but wiped clean. Surprisingly, he did not feel very tired at all. He had slept less than five hours in two nights, but he felt just fine and assumed it had something to do with constant adrenaline. Or maybe it was being in Buffy's presence.

He shook his head slightly, feeling glad that at that moment he was alone at the table. Buffy had gotten up after quickly finishing her two meals of sausage, eggs, pancakes, bacon and whatever else she could stomach and was currently washing her face in the bathroom after last night's adventures while her and Johnny's next meals were being cooked. However, he was having enough trouble keeping his consuming thoughts of Buffy out of his mind with her sitting right in front of him; now they were there all the time.

Questions kept arising in his mind concerning the randomness of his visions. Why did he keep taking the place of her ex-boyfriend? Johnny, by now, had assumed that he was a vampire, but wasn't quite clear on all that. How could Buffy ever love something without a soul?

He paused again, holding on his thought. Buffy had said nothing about vampires not having souls. In that weird Anne Rice movie he'd seen with Sarah on Halloween night over a decade ago, Tom Cruise had a conscience and just chose to ignore it. It was a general assumption, though he hadn't really seriously considered how vampires really felt until just this moment.

Is her ex-boyfriend the one that kills her? Johnny wondered, pulling his mind back on subject. Perhaps the visions weren't so random after all. Is her ex connected to the situation? Or is Johnny somehow connected to her ex?

A strange sensation came over him. Johnny's eyes lifted off of the plate and began to bat around the lightly-populated diner. He gazed around at the various people inside as they carried on with their conversations, reading the newspaper, eating their food, and talking on their cell phones, oblivious to Johnny's presence. His eyes spotted two men in the back as they entered from the kitchen.

Both were the trucker-type – one with white skin, the other with dark skin and both had beady dark eyes. Besides being unkempt and scruffy, they seemed quite normal to anyone else looking at them. Anyone else.

Johnny stood up from his chair and followed them as they turned a corner and disappeared from the main diner area to a hallway leading to the back. John walked around the bar and through the hanging-down beads covering the back hallway leading to the restrooms to find the two men standing outside of the bathroom door as one of them banged obnoxiously on it.

He marched up to the taller, dark-skinned man, grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him around. He pulled his face into a wall, slamming it and then yanked him back to the ground. The other trucker spun around with angry eyes, glaring at Johnny.

Johnny punched him in the face twice with a devastating right and left hook combination. He kicked the trucker in the stomach, knocking him back against the bathroom door. As the trucker recoiled, he charged at Johnny, the psychic responding with a spinning roundhouse kick to the face. Behind him, the taller trucker jumped up and wrapped his arms around Johnny, pinning them to his sides. The other trucker came at John with a punch, but he got a kick in the chest that knocked him down. Johnny bent over and threw the other trucker over him, the dark-skinned man landing flat on his back.

Johnny stared down at the man on the floor and out of the corner of his eye, he could see the other trucker coming towards him at full-speed. Without thinking, Johnny whipped the stake out of the pocket of his black slacks and drove it into the man's chest. The man froze with an expression of horrible pain as he stared down at the wooden spike sticking out of his heart. Johnny gazed down at it, wide-eyed, and then looked up at the man. With a howl, the trucker exploded into a cloud of dust.

With wide eyes, he stared at the falling ashes as the other trucker flipped off of the floor and onto his feet. Johnny snapped back into action, turning and side-kicking him out of the hallway. The bathroom door opened as Buffy came out with a confused expression, watching the two of them roll out into the dining area. The customers outside instantly broke their conversations and turned to watch the fight continue while one or two people ducked out of the door.

Screams broke out as Johnny and the remaining trucker came to a stand, both of them swinging martial arts punches, kicks and blocks at one another. Johnny moved with surprising speed and form, not phased at all by any of the devastatingly powerful blows he received.

The dark-skinned trucker swung his beefy arm at Johnny, but he leaned back out of its path. When he straightened out, he grabbed the trucker's arm and broke it with a slight twist of the wrist. The trucker yelled with pain as Johnny grabbed him by the throat, pulled him back and threw him through the restaurant window out onto the sunny sidewalk outside.

Johnny, the waiters, and the customers watched in horror as the screams increased and the trucker burst into flames. The others broke into a panic as they watched the flaming corpse while Johnny felt a strong grip around his arm.

"This is the end for you, Slayer," Ethan Rayne declared as Buffy came to a bloody and beaten stand, weakened severely with broken shackles on her wrists. The two of them squared off again and prepared for the next and last round of their fight.

Buffy yanked him out of the diner as they took off running at full-speed down the back alley. Although the Slayer was running as fast as she could, Johnny had no trouble keeping up with her.

It was more than a minute or two until they found a shaded, secluded area near an abandoned warehouse and came to a stop. Both of them stood still for a few moments, tiredly trying to catch their breath.

"Are you okay?" Johnny asked, the air coming back to his lungs.

"What the hell was that?" Buffy asked in shock.

He shook his head, baffled. "I-I don't know," he breathed. "Those vamps walked in and… they were after you."

"Did you see it in a vision?"

"No—"

"Then how did you know they were vampires?" Buffy demanded as she stared at him suspiciously.

Johnny stared at her in confusion. "Wh-what?"

"They never vamped!" she exclaimed. "Not once. But you knew." Johnny looked away from her as he considered her point, not knowing how to react or explain. "Oh," she sarcastically added, "not to mention – you threw him through a window!" She glanced him up and down as another thought came into her mind. "Didn't you used to have a cane?" she asked randomly.

"Huh?" he answered, puzzled. "Well… yes, but… What does that have to do with anything?"

Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes, "My point is this—" Without warning, she pulled back her fist and swung at him. Johnny reached up in the blink of an eye and grabbed her fist, twisting her arm around and pinning it to her back on reflex. Johnny froze in his movements, stunned and surprised by himself – with Buffy facing away from him and her arm pinned behind her.

Buffy breathed as she remained in the pinned position, "I'm guessing you've never taking any martial arts classes, have you?"

"No," he shook his head, amazed.

"Then it's happening to you, too," Buffy explained. "I'm getting your powers… and you're getting mine." Johnny let go of her as the two of them broke apart, staring at each other in utter bewilderment, a million thoughts racing through their minds.

"Has this ever happened before?" he asked.

Buffy shook her head with a frown. "Not even remotely."

"I don't understand," Johnny said. "Why would I need to be the Slayer?"

"There has to be a reason," Buffy resolved. "Maybe we're both supposed to figure this out." She then looked up at him knowingly and inquisitively. "And there's something you're not telling me." Johnny glanced up at her as she caught him off guard. Her face was firm and requesting as she added, "What did you see?"

He blinked at her, silent for several moments before he looked away again. "I saw you," he began after extreme hesitance, "dying. A vampire was feeding off of you… but I don't know which one. That's why I came to find you."

Buffy continued to stare at him, but then pulled her eyes away and gazed at the ground calmly. Never in his life had he seen anyone take the news that he had seen a vision of them dying so serenely.

"Well," she sighed. "That's not news I've never heard before." Her hopeful eyes lifted up and found his. "You sure it's not a rerun?"

His moment of relief in her reactions disappeared as grim reality set in. "I'm sure," Johnny nodded.

She crossed her arms. "Where?"

"In L.A. as far as I can tell," he answered. "And now that you're here, I figured that we changed the future and you wouldn't be in any danger."

"And the catch is…?"

"I just got another vision," he admitted somberly. "I saw you fighting right before you die."

"Figures," she shrugged. "Everyone always said that's the kind that suits me."

"Who's Ethan Rayne?" Johnny blurted.

Buffy glanced up at him, surprised. "You are good," she declared. "He's a sniveling little pipsqueak from my past. Why?"

"He's the guy you were fighting in my vision," Johnny replied.

Buffy gazed at him incredulously. "Are you sure he was fighting?" she asked. "Are you sure he wasn't cowering?" He stared at her, puzzled, as she explained, "Ethan Rayne doesn't fight. He runs away and hides."

"Well, he wasn't planning on going anywhere," Johnny declared grimly.

"But he's not a vampire," she answered, confused. "In fact, last I heard, he was stuck in a military prison base run by the Initiative…" The words ran dry as a sudden look of realization struck her face. "Which… I kind of destroyed… Oh." She sheepishly glanced up at him. "I guess he got out."

Johnny nodded as he inherited the information, but new questions came up in his mind. He looked down at the ground, not wanting to open his mouth for fear that they would come out.

"What?" Buffy asked, noticing his hesitation.

Johnny looked up at her, quiet for a moment, and then began. "Most of my visions… they're from the same point of view." Buffy looked away instantly, obviously stating that she knew what he was talking about and didn't want to bring it up.

"So?" she carelessly replied.

"I need to know why," he answered. "Your ex… what was his name?"

"Which one?" she asked, putting on a clueless guise.

"You know which one," Johnny declared. He unbuttoned one of the buttons on his shirt and pulled it open, revealing the cross-shaped burn mark.

Buffy stared at it momentarily, and then looked away again. "Angel."

"Angel," he repeated, recognizing the name. "Do you think he's involved with this?"

"I don't want to think about it."

"But you have to—"

"You don't get it!" Buffy snapped, glaring at him as he obviously opened up a deep wound.

Johnny stared at her calmly and quietly, then answered with a soft tone that she had remembered from all her dreams, "Then explain it to me."

Buffy gazed up at him, bewildered once more. She crossed her arms and looked away, then slowly began, "He's a vampire with a soul. But he's also the kind of vampire you never want to meet when he's soulless. The worst ever. I know this for a fact… because I got to meet him."

Johnny remembered his vision of himself being extremely cruel to Buffy. She continued, "He tried to destroy the world. And I had to stop him." Buffy swallowed hard and said painfully, "I loved him more than anything in the world, but I still killed him to save it."

"He came back?"

"He did. Still not sure how. And he was Angel again, but things were never the same," she replied with a dark tone. He looked up at her, "He left, moved on… I moved on. We ended up with different lives." She sighed, rolling her eyes, "It's the whole Champion-destiny clause."

Johnny stared at her sympathetically. She made the decision that he could never bring himself to make. "I'm sorry. It must have been very hard."

"It was the hardest thing I ever had to do," she replied. "But it was right." She looked up at him with worried eyes. "Now he's running an evil law firm. I've really got no idea how that happened."

"You think he may be evil again?"

"Like I said," she answered, "I don't want to think." She swallowed hard, wrapping her arms around herself tightly. "After everything that's happened… I don't think I'm strong enough anymore. It's been seven years, but it's still the one thing that's always scared me."

"What?" he asked.

"A year ago, Giles asked me if knowing what I knew then, would I sacrifice Dawn to save the world," Buffy explained. "Or would I have the same feelings that I had two years before that? I told him that I would sacrifice her." She frowned, shaking her head. "But I think I lied."

"There's nothing wrong with that," he responded.

"But it's not the 'Slayer way,'" Buffy sighed. "I'm supposed to be strong enough to make that decision again in a second if I have to. But for whatever reason – I'm not anymore. I'm just too… weak."

"I think I understand it now," Johnny said. She looked up at him in confusion as he gazed down at her admiringly. "That's not weakness," he answered. "It's love."

Buffy stared up at him, studying him carefully. "You sound like you do understand," she said, having multiple cases of déjà vu. Her half-smile faded a bit as she sighed and declared, "I guess you understand then why we can't afford to love." She slumped and turned away from him in defeat. Johnny stared at her, trying to hide his wounded expression. He looked away at the ground as she turned back to him tiredly. "We need to figure out what's going on here," Buffy declared, getting back to business. She paused as an idea popped into her head. "I think I know how."

Hot sand squeezed between Willow's toes as she stepped gently across desert. She wandered far and wide with the sun hanging low over the flat plains as she traveled across the cradle of civilization. Slowly, she came to a stop, gazing around the area and supposedly being alone.

Willow turned around again to face a crawling, dark-skinned woman dressed in ragged animal skins with wild black hair and savage black eyes. War paint was plastered on her face as she glowered up at the intruder.

"I need your help," Willow declared. "One of your kind has gone missing."

"That is common among our kind," a raspy, wild voice declared.

"I don't believe she's dead yet. But we have to find her. The world depends on it."

"I cannot help you."

"Wait," Willow called as the First Slayer began to turn away. "You must. Buffy… the Slayer… she's the one I'm talking about. You've met her before." Willow continued with a short, yet accurate description. "Blond… Yay high… Talks a lot?"

"She is no longer one."

"Yes, I understand," Willow sighed. "She's one of many now. But she's still important."

"You misunderstand," the First Slayer declared. "She is one with another."

Willow stared at her in confused. "Oh, well… yeah…" She shook her head, lost. "Huh?" Willow stared into the Primitive's wild eyes as they grew larger, pulling her into their darkness. She could not take her eyes away as the First Slayer began to speak slowly in a foreign tongue, Willow's expression growing more and more concerned and worried as she listened with perfect understanding.

Giles stood over the hotel room bed anxiously as Willow lay back in a comatose state. Xander and Dawn stood back as they eyed the clock nervously, while Bruce and Walt sat nearby with curious and confused expressions. Xander looked up at Giles.

"How will we know she's done?" he asked.

Willow's eyes suddenly opened wide as she gasped ferociously, sitting straight up in the bed as if she'd awakened from a horrible nightmare.

"Oh," Xander replied.

Giles grabbed Willow by the arms to contain her as he comfortingly declared, "You're back. Everything's all right…"

"No," Willow shook her head with tears brimming her eyes. "It's not." The others looked down and gazed at her horrified frown.

Dawn asked with worry, "What did you find out?"

"Something…" Willow struggled to speak through her gasps for air, "Something… is coming. Something big." She looked down as she continued to try to catch her breath.

"That's it?" Giles responded.

"Geez, Will," Xander said. "Could I get that vague any more super-sized?"

"I saw the First Slayer…" Willow explained.

"The Primitive?" Giles declared as he removed his glasses in astonishment. "This is much graver than we thought."

"Wait, who?" Bruce asked.

"She told me that a Slayer is in danger," Willow explained. "She said, 'She'll be chosen to give birth to the ultimate enemy.'"

Walt asked, shaking his head, "What are we talking about here?"

Willow continued, "'She shall give life to the god the fifth time her blood is tasted.'"

"Okay," Bruce sighed, "before I was just pretending, but now I really have no idea what's going on."

Willow said, trying to remember, "The god will enslave the earth."

"Wow," Xander noted, "that part's pretty clear."

Walt leaned back in his chair, overwhelmed, and tiredly rubbed his eyes as he idly spoke aloud to himself. "Oh, boy, John. If you knew ten years ago where you'd be now…"

"What happened ten years ago?" Dawn asked.

"That's when Johnny went into a coma," Bruce explained. "He had his accident June 6, 1995."

Giles eyes widened instantly as Bruce's words reverberated in his mind. He looked up at them, stunned, as he replied, "What did you say?"