Chapter 10
Robin

Having his body back to strength was a feeling more fantastic than any he had felt, and part of him wanted very much to take Faith up on her offer of after-spell sex. But they had other business to attend to, and he felt more than happy at the thought of a fight as well. For the first time, he believed he truly understood Faith's assurance of the 'hotness' of slayage.

He hadn't expected fanfares as he stepped into the living room, but he was surprised that only Crowley seemed to notice him – his eyes lit up and he ran over, catching Robin in a bear hug.

Robin hugged back, feeling like a little kid again, safe in Crowley's arms, even as he was awkwardly aware of his bloody shirt staining Crowley's as well.

Buffy, meanwhile, was having a one-sided shouting match with the Immortal, only offering Robin a brief glance and a smile-lit, "Hey there!" before returning to the topic. "I wasn't asking much of you, but if it was ever a time to keep it in, don't you think it would be tonight?"

Robin had no idea what that was about, but he grinned anyway, amused to see that even apparently irresistible men could find themselves in trouble with their girlfriends. Then his gaze fell on the wall, and his grin died when he saw the empty chains.

"Where's Ella?" he asked.

Buffy made an angry sound through her nose. "Care to tell him?" she asked the Immortal.

The Immortal didn't seem inclined to answer her question; he just rolled his eyes and sat down on the couch. He was starting to sport a black eye, and Robin wondered if Buffy was the one responsible for it.

Crowley was the one who finally explained, "It seems our ancient friend isn't too old to be fooled by a pretty girl's flatterings. While we were busy with the spell, he tried to get a certain ex-vampire to sleep with him."

"She offered," the Immortal pointed out.

Robin rubbed his forehead, unable to believe that anyone could be that oblivious.

Faith, a few steps behind, had no such problems. "Except instead of sex, you got knocked down and she headed out the front door, is that it? Boy, if you could die I'd rip out your heart! Don't you realize that she's been here for weeks? She knows everything about us! Who we are, what we're planning, our strengths and weaknesses..."

"Not all of them," Robin thought out loud. He gestured at himself. "She doesn't know about... well, this."

Crowley narrowed his eyes, apparently only now noticing the blood on Robin's neck and clothes. "Are you hurt?"

"Not anymore." He smiled to show that he was really unhurt, not just putting on a brave face.

"Okay, yeah," Faith said. "She doesn't know that. Everything else, though, she's got down pat. Anyone thinking she'll not run and tell daddy?"

"There's something else she doesn't know," Buffy said, her eyes fixed on the Immortal. "She doesn't know he's fighting with us."

The Immortal looked up and gave a startled laugh. "Me? Surely you're joking?"

"Not even close. You owe us that much."

The Immortal leaned back with an indulgent smile. "Be that as it may, I don't fight."

"Oh, you will fight." The edge in Buffy's voice was so much like Robin's mother's that it sent shivers down his spine. "If you don't, I'm gonna see to it that you're sent into the world that has nothing but shrimp. You think you're bored now, see what an eternity there will do to you."

The Immortal's smiled faded. There was no mistaking Buffy's seriousness now. "I haven't fought anyone in centuries!"

"Well, you have a few hours to practice. Better get started - you'll be the front line."

"So basically I'm to be your pin-cushion?"

Buffy made a small jerk with her head. "You bet, lover."

"She's good," Crowley murmured to Robin.

Robin agreed. There was no doubt that the Immortal would fight with them - but there was also no doubt that what they'd just witnessed was, more than anything else, a break-up. As strong and tough and Slayer-like Buffy looked right then, he couldn't help but feel sorry for her.

The main downside of fighting vampires in the daytime was trying to be inconspicuous. It was early enough that the morning rush hadn't started yet, but Robin suspected that before they were out of there, the road would be swarming with cars.

Of course, if they were dead, that would be none of their concerns. The Immortal would be left standing, but then, he didn't really care what happened to the Immortal.

He threw a glance towards Crowley, wishing that the old man'd had the sense to stay home. Sure, he was spry for his age, but now that Robin knew a little something about aching bones and a failing heart, he rather thought 'spry' wouldn't cut it. Letting a man in his seventies into a vamp's nest - even behind two Slayers and a guy who by definition couldn't die - was madness.

Crowley caught his glance and grinned, waving a little with the crossbow. Crazy old Watcher.

"Get ready!" Faith hissed. "Morty ol' boy, that's you up here."

The Immortal's expression was anything but amused, but he stepped up. Buffy and Faith looked at each other for a second before kicking the door down with a simultaneous, forceful blow. They quickly took a step back after that, letting the Immortal lead the way inside.

For the first couple of rooms, there were no vampires. Then they found a pair lying on the sofa, limbs tangled around each other in sleeping embrace. The Immortal gave them a doubtful look, but Faith walked past him with her stake raised, dusting the first before it even had time to wake up.

The other opened its eyes and hollered, "They're here!" Faith's stake found its target, but a second too late - any vampire in the house would have heard that call.

"Formation!" Buffy ordered. "It's gonna get rough from here."

Her prediction was right. A few minutes later the vamps started to show up - not one or two at a time, as they might have if they were unprepared, but in rows. There were never less than two or three at a time attacking each Slayer, Robin noticed, but the end result of that was that most of the vampires went straight for the Immortal, clearly expecting him to be easier to take down.

Even so, there were more than enough vampires to keep Robin busy as well, and in the corner of his eye he could see Crowley firing his crossbow over and over again. The air filled with dust, and yet there were still more vampires coming.

A cold hand gripped his neck from behind, pulling him closer, and he barely managed to shake himself loose. As he spun around, he felt a blade cut into his neck - not again! - and he hurried to plunge in the stake.

It was a lot harder than it should have been, breaking through skin, and when he pulled the stake back it was covered in blood. He stared in shock at Ella's widened blue eyes as she fell to the floor and remained still.

No dust. He felt nauseated.

A crossbow bolt whirred past him and hit a vampire a few feet away. His gaze following the bolt's path back, he saw Crowley giving him a disapproving shake of the head. He knew what that headshake meant. He had allowed the moment to distract him, and at a time like this, that was something they couldn't afford.

The herd of vampires were thinning out now, but he wasn't the only one bleeding. He could see a trickle of blood running down Faith's temple, and he wondered if perhaps her singed hands were hindering her more than she would let on.

As for the Immortal, he was, just like he had predicted, turning into a pin cushion. His lithe body was so full of wounds and scrapes that Robin had to feel sorry for him. Even if he couldn't die, being perforated like that had to hurt like hell.

Another vampire attacked, and Robin found himself in a tight spot, since backing would mean falling straight into the battle between Faith and her vampire. She was just fighting one now, he noticed, but that didn't make Robin more eager to stand between them. He forced himself to push forward instead, earning himself a couple of quick blows to the head and a kick to the stomach that made him lose his breath for a moment. This was no fledgling. It had to be one of the original vampires from the first fight - and coming to think of it, it did look a little familiar. He got a couple of punches in and tried to remember what Faith had recounted of what she'd learned from Ella. Two vamps besides the leader, Dean and Jeremy, but was this Dean or Jeremy? Faith should have asked for physical descriptions.

He was knocked to the ground, but managed to pull himself together and yank the vampire down with him. Rolling onto his side, he drove the stake in just as Faith had finished with her own vampire and was heading over.

"I'm fine," he told her, standing up. "No need for a rescue mission."

She flashed a quick grin at him. "Sorry. Habit."

Buffy was having it out with Mr. Merriweather himself and had evidently figured out that he was more than a handful, because she drove him towards the Immortal. By then, Robin was really feeling sorry for the Immortal, who was fighting battles on three fronts at once. But cornering Merriweather like that clearly worked, because Buffy was able to stake him only a minute or two later.

Robin wasn't a big fan of horror movies, and one of the reasons he wasn't was how very simple things were in them. Kill the head vampire, and all the others would drop like flies. Well, the head vampire was dead, and he had lasted a lot longer than most of his minions, but there were still several left to fight. One of them was knocking Crowley - who was supposed to stay in the back, damn him! - to the ground. Robin rushed over and yanked the vampire away, pounding on him over and over without regard to fatigue - or to the pounding the vampire did back. Last time he had felt this furious with a vampire was in that fight with Spike a year ago, and like then, he didn't care if it killed him.

But this time, he actually won the fight, watching in breathless satisfaction as the vampire turned into dust.

"Why did you do that for?" he asked, hauling Crowley up from the ground. "You were supposed to stay behind us!"

Crowley groaned.

"You okay?" Robin asked, now worried as well as angry. Crowley was standing up, which was a good thing, but...

"I'm fine," Crowley said, rubbing his side. "I just strained my back."

At the other end of the room, the Immortal and the two Slayers were finishing off the last vampires. After the constant fighting, the silence that followed was eerie. Dust had settled heavily on the floor, interrupted by marks of footprints and fallen bodies.

And in one corner lay Ella's corpse in a pool of blood.

Robin was still holding Crowley up; by the two of them got to the body, Faith was already there, staring down with a look of revulsion on her face.

"Stupid, fucking bitch," she snarled.

Robin bit his lip. He told himself that the body on the floor was, to all intents and purposes, a vampire. An evil creature that had certainly done nothing to redeem herself during the weeks she had been their prisoner. This was the best solution: the wretched thing no longer suffered, his living room could be a living room instead of a dungeon, and they wouldn't have to bother Willow Rosenberg.

He just wished she could have turned to dust like the rest of them, or that he didn't know so much about her. It nauseated him to remember the feeling of a stake hitting living flesh, and it was even worse to look down at that dead face and think 'Ella'.

The others gathered around the corpse too.

"I guess we have to bury it somewhere," Buffy said.

The Immortal shrugged. "She's centuries old - we could dump her anywhere and she'd never be missed."

Faith's eyes met his, and he knew that she, at least, understood.

"Take her into the backyard," she said. "It's sheltered enough no one will see us digging."

To think that such little things could bring such great pleasure. Taking the chains down from the wall. Making some rooibos tea without having to ask for help and sitting down with Crowley in the kitchen to drink it.

Buffy and The Immortal had packed up their bags. Robin had a feeling that they were both eager to get out of the apartment and on the first possible plane to Rome, where they could proceed to never see each other ever again.

"Must have been two dozen vampires in there," Crowley mused, taking a sip of his tea. "A pretty spectacular failure on our part."

"Hardly on your part," Robin said, feeling a pang of guilt and sorrow at the thought of all the people who might have lived if he'd never picked up that damned sheath. "This one's on Faith and me."

Crowley shook his head. "Two people in a situation like this... you need the Council. Some sort of council, anyway. I'm glad they're starting to work something out. Do you think it'll help once those Junior Slayers get here?"

"I hope so," Robin said. In a way, it was comforting to think of more super-powered girls to help keep the Hellmouth in check. On the other hand, he couldn't help thinking about the reasons Merriweather had stated for forming his army: the threat of a world full of Slayers. "Is it... Do you think it's possible that Slayers may actually attract danger? That they could cause people to die who otherwise wouldn't?"

"Yes," Crowley replied right away. "In a Hellmouth, though, the effect would be minute compared to the good she'd do. The same goes for larger cities - anywhere where evil would gravitate. In safer or more remote areas... Yeah, then the Slayer could be a danger to the population. And then," he threw a meaningful glance at Robin, "there's always the problem with personal relationship."

Robin knew where he was going with that comment, but circumvented it by steering the conversation to a topic he knew to be sensitive to Crowley: "Mm. Like that abortion."

Crowley blinked, and his expression was so chagrined Robin regretted saying something. "I thought she made the wrong decision, yes. Objectively speaking, I suppose it was the wrong decision..." He raised his hand and stroke Robin's cheek. "Sometimes the wrong decision is the best one. I wouldn't want to have missed out on knowing you for the world."

Robin tried to smile, but the tears in his throat prevented him. "Same here."

"So," Crowley asked, clearing his throat, "When will I next see you in Los Angeles?"

"Soon," Robin promised. He'd had no idea how much he had missed his old guardian until seeing him again brought up all the memories. "I just need to make sure everything's under control here."

He caught sight of Faith, who was passing by the kitchen with a canvas bag over her shoulder. "Hey," he said. "Where are you heading?"

She stopped and made a grimace. "Away. I need to get out of here."

He could certainly understand that impulse. For one thing, it must have been several days since she last saw her own apartment. And she had never been keen on hanging around once the action was over. "Okay," he said. "Call me."

She hesitated, and then gave him an unusually shy smile. "Sure thing."

As he watched her go, he thought about maybe getting out some himself. He should get back to work tomorrow, of course, but perhaps he could get a few beers tonight anyway.

It felt great to be young.