AUTHOR'S NOTE- Before we start out with Season Three, I wanted to apologize for the tardiness of these parts being posted. Shortly after I started preparing parts for posting I had a family/health/personal situation pop up with took quite a bit of my time. Then in March, the laptop where I had the parts on had problems which still haven't been fully fixed. However, I did get a patch which lets me use the laptop and I was able to start getting these parts ready for posting.
So far without further ado, on to Season Three of the Road Back.
Season Three
Part Forty-one
1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale, California. May 14, 2001
How do you deal with the concept that your entire damn life, everything you ever thought was true - is in fact nothing but a lie?
Almost exactly at midnight Dawn Summers carefully opened the back door of her house, and walked slowly into the kitchen. If anyone had seen her at that moment, they would have been struck dumb by the way she looked.
Because she looked broken and shell-shocked, with the proverbial thousand-yard stare in her eyes.
However, no one was present in the kitchen to see the female teenager come in. They were all elsewhere, looking for this child - who wasn't really a child - that had been missing for hours.
Dawn sat down on a chair next to the breakfast table, and continued to stare vacantly out into space. The capacity for rational thought was not strong within her at the moment; but if it had been, most likely Ms. Summers would have cursed herself for being so determined to find out the truth within the deceased Xander Harris's letters.
For like Stephen King had once written, "some things are better not seen, and some things are better lost than found".
{I'm not real?} Dawn finally thought dazedly to herself. For maybe the millionth time, ever since she had read Xander's second letter. {I was created by magic? How can this be possible? Oh my God...*I* was what those Knights wanted, all along.}
And it *was* all true, in her mind. It explained far too many things - for example, why the others were so reluctant to *ever* let her out of their sight. Or that night months ago; when Buffy had acted so weird staring at her, and then come barging into her room and looked around in like total confusion.
Granted, she hadn't yet gone to the psycho ward of Sunnydale Memorial to test out her suspicions, like Xander had warned Giles not to ever let happen, but in Dawn's opinion that would just be a formality anyway.
Because she *was* the Key. She wasn't human. She wasn't a Summers woman. Mo- Joyce wasn't really her mother, and Buffy wasn't her sister either.
Remembering something else that the dead man had written, Dawn then opened the drawer and pulled out a knife. She sat there for several moments, and stared at its glittery blade. {I wonder.}
Dawn was suddenly shaken out of her state of stupor, by the sound of people in the front of the house. She listened to the voices...
"She's got to be somewhere! I mean, she was here when we left." That was Joyce's voice.
"Don't worry, Mom, we'll find her!" Buffy spoke that time, her voice coming closer to the kitchen.
Dawn stood up, and hurried to the door leading to the basement. And she was down the stairs, mere seconds before Buffy opened the door to the kitchen.
The Rochefort Institute of Strategic Planning, Urbana, Illinois. A few moments previously
"Get the Wizard to safety!" Cleburne instantly shouted, as he saw Xander take a shotgun blast to the back to protect Irving Hollins.
Harris started to collapse, and as he did so Cleburne grabbed the young boy and roughly pushed him back to where Gunny was. Rachael Weitz rushed forward with her pistol drawn, shooting at the vampires who were now appearing all around them.
"Now, now, pet - can't have you interfering 'n all-"
In less than a moment Cleburne saw a blonde-haired vampire that he guessed was Spike raise a shotgun, and aim it at Rachael. The weapon belched out fire and smoke, and Cleburne heard the sickening impact of shotgun pellets onto human flesh.
"Damn-" Cleburne cursed, as he watched Rachael fall to the ground, her body a bloody mess.
His sidearm quickly pulled out from his shoulder holster underneath his jacket, the Marine colonel moved forward to where Xander and Rachael were both laying. Cleburne then shot several times at the vampires who were now approaching, whilst nearby Spike was reloading the double-barrelled shotgun.
A pale, dark-haired woman wearing a Victorian-era dress and carrying a doll stepped from behind Spike. The vampire known as Drusilla then looked down at the unconscious Xander. "Wildcat, my precious Spoike, look - it's that 'orrible little wildcat 'imself!" she said, an oddly joyous note in her obviously-insane voice.
Spike paused, and looked at what Drusilla had discovered. "What the - Droopy Boy?" he demanded of no one in particular. Spike then looked confused, "Thought you were in that bloody hell dimension we 'ad the redhead send you to."
A vampire standing next to Spike suddenly burst into flames though, which drew his attention back to the task at hand. "No matter, we'll settle this right now. Kill 'em all!" the undead guy shouted to the other vampires present.
Cleburne once again bit back a curse, as he calculated the odds in his head. A quick glance over his shoulder showed that Gunny had grabbed Hollins, and proceeded with all haste to safety. So he quickly turned his attention back to the threat approaching him. "I'll need more ammo," the secret agent muttered.
A vampire leaped forward, and was rewarded with two special bullets to his head. It quickly flared and burst into flames, quickly followed by it turning into dust. A second vampire went down screaming, with a bullet hole smoking in her shoulder.
The other vampires were noticeably slower in approaching Cleburne and his two downed compatriots, after that.
"Oh come on, you bloody wankers!" Spike said in annoyed exasperation. The blonde-haired vampire then saw that Cleburne was aiming at him. So he grabbed the nearest vamp minion handy, and pushed him hard towards the USMC officer.
The unfortunate creature's body intersected with three bullets. The vampire screamed as the wounds smoked and burst into flames, the special ammo used by the Siberian performing as designed. The flames quickly spread, and the vampire turned into dust.
Cleburne saw that four vamps were now between him and Spike. And Spike had finished reloading, and was grinning at the Marine. "Looks like your luck's run out, mate. Don't worry though, I'll take care o' the whelp soon as I'm done with you - well, if the little git isn't screaming again in Hell by then."
However, both Spike and Cleburne had forgotten that there was another party involved here. And everyone was suddenly reminded of her presence when a mailbox suddenly flew past Cleburne, and neatly decapitated one of the approaching vampires.
"What the 'ell!" Spike shouted, looking around.
Joshua spared another glance over his shoulder, and saw the teenaged Bethany Chaulk live and in person. She was frowning, and clearly concentrating. And she had obviously decided to show Spike and his minions her special talents.
William the Bloody hadn't connected the nearby teenybopper with the strange turn of events, though. He was looking around and muttered, "Just had to be the bloody Slayer, didn't it!? Shoulda known the li'l blonde bint would show her face, just to mess things up."
The mailbox moved again and flew into a second vampire, as the Marine kept firing at the enemy. However, the vamp was able to dodge so that the mailbox did not take off its head. But the bloodsucker was still knocked down, with the mailbox pinning it to the ground.
The vampire screamed in terror, as the mailbox pressed down. After a few seconds, a sickening crack was heard as the vampire's ribcage collapsed. A second later, a pile of dust shot out from under the mailbox as the vamp's heart was crushed.
Dru's eyes widened, as she proved that she was quicker on the uptake than her vampire boyfriend. "Spike, it's not the Slayer, it's the little girl with hair of fire! She's some kind o' witch."
Bethany heard Drusilla's observation. She opened her eyes and replied, "No, I'm no witch, but what you are certainly rhymes with that!"
The mailbox again arose from the ground. It hovered for a second, and then headed straight for Drusilla.
"Dru!" Spike shouted out, his heart full of the one fear that as a demon, he had ever really acknowledged to himself.
He dropped the shotgun, and threw himself towards his beloved. William hit her body and knocked her to the ground, as the mailbox flew through the air where a few seconds before the vampire seer had been standing. It then hit the ground several feet from the place where the two vampires were laying, and started to vibrate from the impact.
"Damn. Missed," Bethany snapped, beads of sweat flowing down her forehead. "But I won't next time."
"Won't get another chance, sorry luv!" Spike snarled, as he scrambled for the shotgun he had dropped. He grabbed it, and swung around to point it at the teenage girl.
Almost forgotten, Cleburne reacted by firing off two shots as he launched himself towards Ms. Chaulk. He heard in the following order, Spike screaming in pain, the blast of a shotgun, Bethany crying out in surprise as she fell to the ground with him on top of her, and the whistle of shotgun pellets above them.
"Get off me!" Bethany shouted in annoyance.
Cleburne looked over at the vampires - and saw that Spike had dropped the shotgun once again and was holding his hands to his right knee, cursing in pain. Drusilla was clambering to her feet, looking with concern at her boyfriend. "Spike-y?"
"Bloody damn bints, they're all the same," the object of her concern said through gritted teeth. "Didn't you hear me? I said kill them all!" William shouted to his remaining vampire minions.
The minions, stupid as most minions are and figuring they had the advantage of numbers, turned and started to advance.
But then the lead of the four vampires suddenly jerked, as the roar of an automatic weapon erupted.
From the building the Siberians had exited barely a few minutes before, a trio of security guards had run out of. Of course, with them working for the Rochefort Institute of Strategic Planning, they were far more heavily armed than normal security guards. Since most members of campus security in the U.S. did not carry M-16 assault rifles. The vampire shot by the first guard swatted at the smoking places on his body to no avail, as he quickly burst into flames.
The first of the guards had paused for a second to assess the situation; and then he'd opened fire with a burst from the rifle, smoke wafting from the barrel. The other two guards ran past him, towards the vampires.
Spike looked at the new scene, and quickly calculated the odds in light of what had just happened. His self-preservation instinct kicked into full gear, and thus even though he was still in terrible pain, the British vampire climbed to his feet and grabbed Drusilla. "Come on luv, it's getting a mite too crowded here for us." He started to hobble away.
Cleburne raised his pistol, carefully aiming at Spike. However, at that moment, Xander choked - and blood flowed out of his mouth.
"Oh, hell!" Cleburne cursed, as he hurried over to check on Xander and Rachael. He crouched down, ignoring the weapons fire that was now taking place as the remaining vampires were dealt with by the guards. And what he found, did not make him feel any better.
He looked up and saw that the vampire minions were now suitable as occupants for a dustbuster, while Spike and Drusilla had made good their escape. "Corpsman!"
1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale, California. Thirty minutes later
Buffy sat down by the phone, as she spoke to her mother. "Willow and Tara haven't seen her, they've just come from the Magic Box. Anya's there though, and she'll call if Dawn shows up."
Joyce ran her right hand through her hair, feeling trapped in her damned wheelchair. "She's got to be somewhere. She knows better than to wander around town after dark!" The middle-aged mother had moved into the living room when they had gotten home, and hadn't left the room once.
Giles placed his hands on Joyce's shoulders reassuringly. "We'll find her, Joyce. Don't worry."
"Don't do that, damn it! Because Dawn's my little girl, of course I'm going to worry!" Joyce shouted, and instantly looked like she regretted it.
Buffy moved quickly to her mother's side. "Mom, I promise you, we'll find her and bring her back safe."
"Am I really not real?"
The three of them looked up to the hallway leading into the kitchen, and they all gasped at what they saw.
Dawn stood there, holding a knife in her hand. And blood was flowing down her right forearm from a long, nasty, and self-inflicted gash - not exactly what had happened in the original history, but close enough.
"Dawn, what happened? Were you attacked?" Buffy managed to gasp out. Behind her, she heard the whir of Joyce's motorized wheelchair as Mother Summers started towards her younger daughter.
"I never was your daughter, was I? That's just something they put into your head. My head, and everyone else's head too." Dawn said, the look in her eyes not really focusing on the others in the living room.
As she heard these words Buffy felt her stomach tighten, and she instantly knew in her gut what had happened. {Oh, God, She knows now about the Key stuff, somehow she found out.}
Of course, knowing something in her gut wasn't any guarantee that Buffy could and would accept what was happening. "Dawn, what do you mean?"
"Honey-" Joyce said, as she stretched her arms out towards her daughter.
"No!" Dawn shouted, as she backed away from the advancing Joyce. Her eyes full of tears, she cried out, "I'm not real, I-I'm just a big ball of energy. Just a, a walking battery. And you knew! You all knew. What, did you keep me around just in case the batteries in the flashlight ran out?"
"Dawn-" Joyce started to say in a soothing voice.
"No! Don't pity me, and don't talk down to me. You should have told me, damn it, you should have told me!" Dawn whined.
She looked around, wide-eyed. {This place isn't my home. I've gotta get outta here! } "You should have told me!" The young brunette then turned around and ran out of the room, and a second later the kitchen door was heard to slam shut.
"Dawn!" Joyce shouted and headed her wheelchair towards the door, clearly intending to follow her out.
"No, wait!" Buffy shouted and ran in front of Joyce. "Giles, you and Mom stay here, I'll go bring her back."
"Buffy-" her Watcher started to say.
"No, I'm the Slayer. I'll take care of this!" Buffy hurried through the kitchen and into the night, in pursuit of her sister.
Carle Foundation Hospital, Urbana, Illinois. Two hours later
Esther Marcum made her way into the hospital through the ER entrance. She spotted Cleburne talking to two men, who had the look of plain-clothes police officers.
Thus, she immediately headed over towards him. "What the hell's going on? You've turned this place into a fortress."
Cleburne turned from the detectives to his superior. He waited until the thin blue line were out of earshot and then hissed, "Damn vampires. Paid us a visit, and tried to kill the Wizard. The kid and Weitz got shot."
"How are they?" Esther asked, concern clear on her face.
"Irving is fine; traumatized, but physically okay. I put him upstairs, Gunny's with him. Howard's in surgery right now. Doesn't look good either, the staff gets all skittish when I try to ask questions," Cleburne replied.
"And Ms. Weitz?" Esther said uncertainly, suspecting the worst.
"She was pronounced dead on arrival when we got here, there was nothing anyone could do. I'm just hoping the kid doesn't join her, before the night's over," Joshua tried to keep the sigh out of his voice.
"I'm surprised you didn't have Dr. Chalmers flown in, then," Esther remarked.
Cleburne shook his head. "No time. We're having to make do, with whatever we have on hand here." Cleburne sat down in one of the chairs, his exhaustion evident to any who looked.
"Any other casualties?" Esther asked. Being one of the leaders of Siberian Trip Wire required a realization that losses of human assets was bound to happen, and she needed to be fully briefed.
"Two of the bodyguards are dead, one's in critical condition. I'll have to write the condolence letters later," Cleburne explained, as he ran his fingers through his hair. "And most of the vampires are dust, but the lead two got away."
"We know who they are?"
Cleburne nodded. "Oh yeah, no doubt about it. Spike and Drusilla themselves. The male vamp got wounded with a bullet to the leg, but what with the way the bloodsuckers heal, it might not even be bothering him anymore. I've got people looking for them, right now."
The sound of a throat clearing caused both of them to look up. Standing in front of them was a doctor in surgical garb, which was stained with human blood. "Excuse me, but we need to talk..."
Demon bar, Urbana, Illinois. Half an hour later
Urbana, Illinois wasn't located on a Hellmouth. It also wasn't very large, compared to other cities throughout the world. It simply didn't have the teeming 'night life' that other places located on the planet did.
Thus, there was just the one demon bar on the outskirts of town, where the few demons that lived underneath the radar hung out with whatever vampires were around.
On this night, two of those vampires were familiar to the people who used to frequent the old library of Sunnydale High School, during what some might call 'the good old days'. Spike and Drusilla were sitting in a booth near the back door, and Spike was cursing under his breath as the bullet wound from Cleburne's weapon hadn't completely healed yet.
"I don't get it - what's that whelp doing 'ere? We fixed his little red wagon but good, back in Sunnyhell. And why here with them government blokes? IF he pulls through, he might finger us to the bloody coppers..." Spike shook his head. "Damn it, luv, this was supposed to be just a simple li'l job to get the Order of Taraka off our backs. But it's all bolloxed up now!"
Drusilla leaned over, and cupped Spike's face with her hand. "The kitten is no more, no he's not! He's all grown up nowadays. A cougar, a cougar he is! His fangs are sharp, and draw blood like red daisies..."
Spike looked at his girlfriend. "Him? He's not dangerous, sweets, not at all!" the guy protested.
Drusilla shook her head, listening to something only she could hear. "No, no, he's more dangerous than the little Slayer, Spike! The stars scream it out loud! And his pack, my precious 'eart, he's got a pack, a big one - and it's coming for blood..."
Spike had been with Drusilla long enough to know that important facts were often hidden in her rantings. "A pack, coming? The coppers. Come on then, luv..." He stood up and grabbed Dru, and the two of them went out the back of the bar - just a few minutes ahead of the Federal agents coming to clean house.
Cleveland, Ohio. The same time
Detective Kate Lockley was trying to figure out just what she had done wrong, what kind of heinous sin she had committed in a past life.
Because there was no other explanation she could think of, as to why the brunette Slayer was coming on to her like this!
Kennedy was with Kate at a dance club, located close to the physical presence of the Hellmouth. It was one of the more usual places you could find the Chosen One these days, after all; she was the guardian of the place, and no demon was gonna open the darn portal on *her* watch.
However, thoughts of 'sacred duty' and whatnot were not currently foremost on the 18-year-old girl's mind; for tonight, the Slayer was really trying like crazy to seduce the police officer she was smitten with.
Kate had bought her a drink after a difficult patrol, a nonalcoholic one of course - despite Kennedy's pleas otherwise. And basically, it had just snowballed from there - Ms. Lockley was seriously thinking the teenager was about to simply throw herself at her prey out of frustration, and try to ravish her on the club floor...
When her prayers were answered, and the cop's cell phone rang.
"Lockley," Kate answered, as she listened to the voice on the other end. Her expression instantly changed, as she learned what had happened in Urbana. "I see. All right, I understand. I'll keep an eye out for the foreseeable future." The detective then disconnected, and put away the phone.
"Trouble?" Kennedy asked, dropping the sexual innuendo after seeing the expression on her companion's face.
"Yeah," Kate replied, but knowing she couldn't say anything about the all-hands-to-battlestations alert put out by STW. So she just said vaguely, "There's been a shooting in Illinois. A guy I know is fighting for his life in the hospital, and quite a few other people are dead."
Shadyhill Cemetery, Sunnydale, California. The same time
Buffy hurriedly ran through the graveyard. She had spent nearly the last two hours looking for her sibling, throughout the town built upon the Hellmouth. And so far, she had been unsuccessful in her quest.
Buffy couldn't understand it. How the hell had Dawn managed to disappear like that, from the Summers home? What the blonde failed to realize was that the Key had picked up a lot of tricks as her little sister, ever since the monks had made her flesh and blood, and was currently putting them to good use.
In any case, Buffy had realized that if she was to find Dawn, she would need to reason out where her sister might have gone to. So, Buffy had started to think about how Dawn had learned the truth. Only she, Giles, Joyce and Willow had known the big secret; and the Slayer knew that none of the others would have told Dawn the cold hard facts, here.
So then, how had the youngest Summers woman learnt about the circumstances regarding her creation? Buffy had briefly thought that maybe it had been those monks who had created her human form, but almost instantly the Slayer had discounted that theory.
Because Dawn wouldn't have been *that* accepting of what those holy men would have told her; well, not this quickly anyway. However she had found out about the whole Key thing, from the way Dawn had acted - it was obvious she hadn't doubted the truth of it.
So it had to have been from someone that she knew, and trusted. Buffy hadn't told her, and neither had Joyce, Giles or Willow. The college girl couldn't think of who else was left to tell her.
Then Buffy had realized who it had to have been.
And that had led to her coming here.
Buffy saw that her hunch had indeed been correct; Dawn was sitting on the bench near Xander's tombstone. And Ms. Summers could clearly see that the Key had been crying.
Dawn looked up as she heard Buffy approach. "It's true. What Xander wrote - it's all true, isn't it?"
Buffy sat down next to Dawn. "Yeah, I'm afraid it is. Look, Dawn..."
"So do you know when, exactly?" Dawn suddenly asked, cutting her off.
"Sorry?" Buffy said in confusion.
"When did I just...pop into existence?" the brunette further clarified, a look of dread and yet also curiosity on her face.
"I'm not sure. From what Xander wrote, we think it was during last summer," Buffy explained. "Around the time Dracula came to town."
"So everything before that - never happened. It's not real," Dawn said, not noticing the cuts on her arm.
"Dawn, listen to me. Nothing has changed, as far as we're concerned," Buffy said, really wishing that Xander had been more explicit in his letters on how she had handled all this in the original history. "You're still Dawn Summers, you're still my sister and"
"No. I'm not human," Dawn interrupted her older sibling. "I'm not real!"
Buffy thought for a second. "Dawn, do you believe what Xander wrote?"
Dawn looked at her sister. "Well, yeah. I mean, you're sitting right here telling me that it's all true!"
Buffy nodded. "It is, all of it. Particularly what he wrote about how you're just as real as any of us! Remember that? 'Cause it kinda seems to me that you're completely ignoring that part."
Dawn just looked at her sibling, and tried to gather her thoughts. "Buffy...how long have you known? Who else knows? And why didn't you tell me?"
The Slayer sighed. "Um, ever since last November. Me, Mom, Giles and Willow. And as for why...well, do I really need to dignify that with an answer?" Buffy pointed at her sister's wounded arm, "We probably ought to take you to the hospital, and get that properly looked at."
"TELL ME!" Dawn suddenly shouted. "Why did you keep it a secret? I had a right to know! I'm not a little kid anymore!"
"Dawn, come on, I'm sure you read what Xander mentioned in his letter. There was no *way* any of us wanted you to react like that, with those darn razor blades! And I'm sure it was absolutely a whole lot worse in the history that he remembered, what with that whole hellgod thing that was going on-" Buffy started to explain.
"Yeah, about that - why am I even here, if Xander took care of Glory? Why did those monks make me human, this time around?" the poor girl asked in fear, not sure if she wanted to know the answer.
Buffy hesitated. "We don't know," she finally said. "I mean what with Mom having the tumor, and the Knights of Byzantium, and then the car accident, and well, *everything* else. I'm sorry, Dawn, but that hasn't exactly been my priority to try to figure out..."
"I bet you Xander would have known," Dawn ruminated. Then she got an odd look on her face. "Buffy?"
"Yeah, Dawnie?" the older sister said, suddenly getting a feeling of dread. {Whatever she's gonna say, betcha it won't be of the good.}
"You remember those dreams of Xander that I had, the ones that I thought for sure were real? The first one at your birthday party during January, and then the other one - the day that Kevin died...do you think that as the Key, I have the ability to talk to the dead?" Dawn had a very strange expression on her face.
The blonde girl's first instinct was to simply say "No", but then Buffy Anne Summers realized that it might actually be possible. There was just so much about the Key that she simply didn't know, and there was no doubt Dawn would remember any other lies from this point onwards *very* unfavorably. "I don't know, but I doubt it. I mean, you haven't had that sort of experience with anyone else, have you?"
"No, just him..." Then Dawn suddenly had an epiphany. "OH MY GOD!"
"What? What is it?" the Chosen One looked at her in alarm.
"I just realized...I, I've never even met Xander once in my entire life, have I? There's just...all those fake memories..."
Buffy knew she had to nip this in the bud, right now. "Dawn, listen to me..." She pulled up her sister's bloody arm and hand. "See this? It's Summers blood. It's just like mine. It doesn't matter where you came from, or how you got here. You are my sister, and I love you! And Xander knew that. He knew you! He said so in his letters. Those memories may not be the real deal, but so what? Bottom line, you are a member of this family."
Ms. Summers had to take a deep breath, after the big speech. "There's no way you could annoy me so much, if you weren't."
Dawn looked at her for a moment, then hugged her sister tightly. They both got teary-eyed as Dawn whispered, "I was so scared."
"I know, me too. And look at it from our viewpoint, huh? I mean, the baby of the family gets into trouble *again*..." Buffy tried to keep the smirk off her face, even as deep down she felt like sagging in relief.
"Hey!" Dawn broke the hug and backed off, starting to glare at her big sister.
"Come on," Buffy used her Slayer strength to lift Dawn off the bench. "Let's go home. I'm sure Mom's totally freaking by now!"
Dawn's eyes widened, "Oh. Uh, you think she's gonna be mad about the whole 'dripping blood all over the carpet' thing?"
The older girl shook her head. "I think you sorta have a Get-out-of-jail-free card on that one, on account of the big love and trauma."
The brunette started to grin. "Really? Okay. Good..." They started to walk out of the cemetery, holding hands. "Um, you think then she might raise my allowance?"
"With all the therapy bills coming our way, these days? Don't hold your breath on that one, sister dear."
Outskirts of Urbana, Illinois. Twenty minutes later
The Illinois Highway Patrol trooper motioned for the next car in line to move forward, as the strobe lights of the police cruisers behind him flashed. The driver of the van rolled down his window, and looked at him in confusion.
"Evening, Officer. What's the problem?" the motorist asked.
The policeman flashed his flashlight into the interior of the van, as he approached. Off to the side, two other officers watched the vehicle in question. The driver noticed that all of the cops had at least one hand near their holstered weapons, as he then heard Cleburne's cover story.
"Manhunt for a child killer. Man and a woman, punk rocker Goth types. Armed and dangerous," the officer answered, peering into the van the whole time. The cop then turned his full attention to the driver. "You seen anyone like that?'
The driver shook his head. "No, no, I've not seen anything since I left the store. I'm just taking these rugs up to Chicago, see, and Goth types aren't much help in moving rugs or anything else in my experience, for that matter."
The officer nodded and gestured, "Okay, move on, but take my advice - don't stop for hitchhikers."
"Thanks, I won't."
The van drove off. A few minutes later, the officers heard the approach of another vehicle. Again, the patrol officer signaled for the car to stop. A few seconds' explanation was given, and the same question was then asked as for the earlier driver.
"Oh, yeah, there was those two weirdos who jumped onto a moving van - maybe they're the people you're looking for? And the way they moved, it was like nothing I'd ever seen before! I'd say it was about ten minutes before I got here, so - guess the van should have gotten here before me."
The cop glanced at his brother officers before asking, "What did these weirdos look like, exactly?"
"One of 'em I think was a guy, he had platinum-blonde hair - kinda looked like Billy Idol. The other one was wearing some kind of old-fashioned dress-"
"That's them!" the officer said, as he reached to the mike on his shoulder. "And that van said it was going to Chicago..."
Carle Foundation Hospital, Urbana, Illinois. The same time
The trauma surgeon and his fellow doctors worked frantically to save the life of the person they knew as 'Alexander Howard', who was in fact the one and only Alexander Lavelle Harris.
So far, it was not going well. The initial round of surgery had been moderately successful, stopping the bleeding and removing the lead pellets in his back, but the delay in getting Xander to medical care and the severity of his wounds had caused complications - that had required another round of surgery.
"Constitution of a bull," one of the residents muttered to himself. "Ordinary man would have checked out hours ago."
The doctors and nurses did their best, in the finest traditions of the Hippocratic oath. However, Harris was very badly injured and they were only human...
And so, almost inevitably, the horrible droning noise of Xander's heart rate flatlining was heard throughout the operating theater.
"Give me 50 cc's of adrenaline, inject it directly into the pericardial sac - stat!" the lead chest-cutter shouted, as the team went into code blue status.
"Out of the way!" one of the doctors shouted a few moments later, as he brought the paddles of the electrical stimulator over to Xander's prone form. "Charging to 200. Clear!"
The former Scooby was zapped with a lot of electricity, as his body convulsed. But there was no effect on his medical status, according to the EKG machine.
"Two hundred and fifty!" A pause. "Clear!"
Again, nothing.
"I think we lost him..."
Elsewhere, elsewhen
"Hello?" Xander shouted into the darkness. "Hello!"
The young man wasn't sure what was going on, or even what had happened exactly. All around him there was a complete lack of light, and yet he could see his own body clearly...
But slowly, the memories started coming back. Rachael. The Wizard. Cleburne...
Spike.
{Oh man, he shot me. That undead son of a bitch *shot* me! } Xander fumed, as all the memories of that particular male vampire suddenly overwhelmed his mind. {To think I practically forgot about that bloodsucker, over the past year or so.}
Well, it wasn't entirely his fault of course. This 'virgin territory' Harris had helped create had its downside as well as its upside, and Spike and Dru were definitely part of the former. And Xander *couldn't* have known what they were going to get up to tonight, of course, as Spike should have been in Sunnydale right now - grieving over Buffy's death...
"Anybody here?" Xander called out again, ceasing to think about all that - for the moment.
The sound of a response in an unfamiliar language caused Xander to turn around, and he saw standing close by a silver-haired gentleman, who was staring at him. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," Xander said. "What did you-"
"He said, no need to shout. He can hear you."
Xander turned to his right, and his eyes almost bulged out. {Faith?}
The dark-haired young man stared at the 17-year-old girl incredibly intensely. He couldn't be sure for a moment if this wasn't the First Evil again, corrupting her memory, but looking into her eyes...suddenly, in an instant, Harris had no more doubts.
The eyes are the windows to the soul, after all, and there could be no hiding or disguising who she really was from 'the one who sees'. "FAITH!"
"Yo, stud, what did I say about shouting?" the dark-haired Slayer asked, almost sardonically.
Xander quickly moved over and hugged Faith firmly. He then started kissing her, *very* intensely, and the female soul returned his attentions whole-heartedly...when all of a sudden, Harris pulled back. "Wait a minute - you're dead!"
Faith looked sad for a second. "Yeah, major bummer. Still, despite that - it's real good to see you again, boy toy."
"I'm not..." Xander stammered.
"Well, kinda," Faith said apologetically. "You could still go either way, though. Uh - remember that idiotic TV show you made me watch, once? Well, to paraphrase, currently you're...metabolically challenged. And a bunch of us over at the 19th tee, we felt it happen. So we want to talk to you about...an offer."
"Nineteenth tee? You're into golf now?" Xander asked in confusion.
"Well - up there, you have a lot of time on your hands and it's kinda fun, but enough about that! You've got a decision to make," Faith replied.
The silver-haired man spoke again. Faith nodded, "That's right. He said."
"He said something like I've earned my reward, but I need to decide if I want to accept it," Xander finished for the brunette girl.
Faith placed her arms on her hips, unconsciously looking sexy as hell; just as Xander remembered her, from both timelines. "Okay, how did you know that?"
"Been busy hanging with some people who speak Latin, even that sort of weird dialect. They taught me the lingo, just took me a moment to recognize it," Xander explained. "How about you, though? You don't strike me as someone who would pick up a dead language for fun."
"Well, I *am* dead, remember? Plus, Catholic school for the first few years of my education," Faith replied, with a small smirk.
"Catholic school?" Xander smirked right back at her.
Faith suddenly frowned. "Yeah, what of it?"
"Just thinking that back in Sunnydale, you never showed me your Catholic schoolgirl outfit," Xander replied with a completely straight face.
"Xander!" Faith exclaimed and slapped her one-time boyfriend upside the head.
{Pardon me, but time grows short - and you need to decide quickly,} the older man said.
"Yeah, right. Look, Xand, fact is you've done quite a bit of good in the time since you came back," Faith said. "And sacrificing yourself in the end, to save a kid that way? You've earned the big trip upstairs."
Xander looked confused. "Trip upstairs? What do you mean? Wait a minute...I'm dead, aren't I?"
"At the moment, yeah - you are," Faith said, but quickly reassured her former boyfriend, "However, it's not permanent-"
"I shoulda known. Why is it death is never a permanent thing, with people like us?" Xander asked in exasperation. "First Buffy, now me?"
Faith laughed for a moment and then continued on, "Thing is, stud, if you choose to come with us - you don't have to go back. You can get into Heaven. You've earned it."
That remark completely stunned Xander. "But...I've killed people. I'm a murderer," he said in disbelief. "Suddenly, that's all forgiven?"
"Yeah, about that - look, I can see where you think you broke one of the big guy's ten commandments and all. But point is - you didn't enjoy it, did you? Basically, you did what you did because you couldn't think of anything else, any other *sure* way to prevent disaster, in the time frame you had left before you had to ditch the 'mouth..."
The young woman went on, "Was that murder? Believe it or not, not every killing is defined as that. And how did you benefit from what you did? You saved lives down the line. So kinda like a police sniper, you can argue mitigating circumstance. Besides, sweetheart, you drank from the Holy Grail - remember? And you've seen the movies often enough to know, that that's the great big cup of automatic forgiveness right there," Faith said passionately.
Suddenly Xander looked suspiciously at her. "What?" the dead Slayer asked in confusion.
"Something...doesn't quite make sense here. If I've earned it, if my sins are forgiven and this is my eternal reward and all - then why are we even bothering to have this conversation? Why didn't I just wake up in Heaven, with you?" he asked.
{I told you. And his time is almost up,} the silver-haired gentleman spoke up, suddenly staring at Xander intensely.
And just as suddenly, the young man understood. "You're hoping I'll say no, aren't you? Who are you?"
There were a few moments of silence until Faith said, "One of the head honchos for our side in this game, his name's Enoch - but that's all I'm allowed to say. Look, Xander, we can discuss it later; please. Come with us."
Slowly Xander shook his head and said, "'Fraid I'm starting to get it, Faith. See, there was something from the movie 'Young Guns II'; I can't recall anymore exactly what Emilio Estevez said, but I think it went something like; 'Three cowboys are playing poker after riding into town, when this guy runs up to them and says, "Hey, the world's coming to an end!" And the first one says, "Well, I'm gonna head over to the church-house and pray," and the second one says, "Hell, I'm gonna go get liquored up and find me a couple of whores!" But the third one just looks at them and says real calmly, "Let's finish the game."' So I can't help thinking, if I quit the game now...what are the odds the First Evil wins?"
"Xander, please," Faith had tears in her eyes now. "I don't want you to die, but I don't want to lose you either! Do you have any idea what my concept of Heaven is? Being married to you, and us raising our child together!"
Xander swallowed at that. He was silent for a few seconds, but then said, "What happens if I go with you?"
"You're with me forever, living the dream," Faith replied earnestly.
"No, I don't mean in terms of you and me, but the people I leave behind - like Oz and Fred. After all, just because I head off for a better place, doesn't mean the bad guys are gonna stop their...hanky-panky," Xander demanded.
Faith and Enoch exchanged a glance. "What!? Tell me!" Xander said sharply.
{There are no certainties,} Enoch said.
"But you have some knowledge, or you at least suspect something," Xander said accusingly. "You know there isn't gonna be a happy ending here!"
Faith sighed in defeat. "The First is on the march, thanks to what it's learned about the original history; you've delayed it somewhat."
"But not stopped it?" Xander finished.
Faith shook her head. "No, it's still following its plan. Maybe a year or two slowed down, is all."
"So who's going to stop it?" Xander asked.
{There are many Champions,} Enoch said cryptically.
"That's no answer, I *know* there are many champions! I've met a lot of them, and been around them for years. Some of them were even friends, and a few of them still are. Will they stop the First?"
{There are no guarantees,} Enoch responded.
"But the chances of stopping it aren't too great, either. The Champions still aren't unified, and there's gonna be...distractions. The First will be able to do the old 'divide and conquer' dodge," Faith explained, looking like she was sucking on a lemon the whole time.
"The First wins?"
{Perhaps, It will have an easier time than if.}
"If I live," Xander finished for Enoch. "If I go back, there's a better chance of stopping it. I come with you, and the enemy has an easier time of it making the world its playpen. That's the bottom line?"
"Like he said, there's no guarantee of anything," Faith pleaded. "And you've suffered enough, already! Let the others like B and Angel take up the burden-"
"Unity," Xander mused.
"What are you talkin' about, sweetheart?" Faith has a puzzled look on her face.
"This demon named Whistler, you may have met him, he told me in my dream quest a while ago that my gift was unity. As in, I unify the Champions?"
"Hey, I know about all that stupid vision quest stuff! But you've been there, and done that, and you've given them that lameass example of unifying they needed! You were the key to that damn meeting in Iceland-" Faith tried to argue.
"That's not enough," Xander said almost in wonder, as full realization hit him. "I'm still needed there, aren't I? My work isn't done yet..." He looked at the sad brunette, and then gently hugged her.
Faith, her eyes glistening, looked at Xander. "You're going back, aren't you? I can't get you to come with me?"
This was quite possibly the hardest thing the young man had ever had to do; and that included leaving Anya at the altar, lying to Buffy about the soul curse, and having to kill people in cold blood. So he just said, "Faith, do you *really* believe that the man you loved could just turn his back and not do what he had to do, knowing what's coming?"
Faith slowly shook her head, anger and frustration on her face. "No. The Xander Harris I know wouldn't do that. Not the guy I fell in love with."
"Then you should also know that however much I want to stay with you forever, I can't. Not yet..." the White Knight said simply.
Faith stepped back, apparently giving up. "I'm so sorry, Xander. More than you'll ever know."
Xander said comfortingly, "Faith."
"No, lemme finish. See, once I'm back where I belong, I won't remember any of this; I told you, Heaven for me is being with you for all eternity. But you *will* remember what you chose to give up. And you'll have to live with that."
Suddenly reminded of Buffy's situation way back when, Xander glanced at Enoch, but saw no sign of contradiction on the man's face. "Well, if I have to, I have to," he said resolutely. "It's gonna be painful, I know, but I'll get past it if that's what it takes-"
"Promise me something, then?" Faith looked so sad, as if saying farewell forever.
"What?"
"Make peace with those three idiots, before it's too late - again. Do the whole forgive and forget routine, for me?"
His beloved having thrown the cat amongst the pigeons, Xander just said tightly, "I don't like making promises I don't know if I can keep, Faith, even for you."
Faith's expression didn't change. "Yeah, well, I knew that - but you should know that they still love you, boy toy. Oh, man, I swear - way things are going, I wouldn't ever want to be in their shoes...look, stud, just don't forget that you shouldn't ever give up on love. And I guess this is g'bye, so take care."
Enoch nodded at Xander. {May His blessings be upon you, Defender of Mankind.}
"And be sure to watch your back, Xander!" a third familiar and female voice then said.
Xander turned around, and saw Rachael Weitz standing there. {What, how?}
A sudden horrible realization came to the mind of young Mr. Harris, as yet another part of Buffy's Slayer dream from months ago came to pass. Before he could say anything, though, the scene faded away and Xander knew nothing more...for a while.
Carle Foundation Hospital, Urbana, Illinois. The same time
The medical team had been trying to resuscitate Xander for nearly five minutes, before finally giving up the good fight. One of the doctors said in defeat, "That's it, I'm calling it - time of death, 2:32 am-"
Just then, two things happened.
Monsignor Randall Bentallo, who had been racing to find the warrior trapped out of time after reading something Nostradamus had written about him so long ago, burst into the operating theater.
He was just in time to witness Xander's corpse convulse and arch spastically, as the body began to draw in breath upon the soul's return; and the machines went crazy with activity, indicating that a miracle had somehow taken place.
"We've got a pulse, it's weak but steady!" one of the interns said in disbelief, as Bentallo crossed himself - and thanked his Maker that he wouldn't have to administer last rights, after all.
The medical people quickly shook off their paralysis, and swung into gear to do what they could to stabilize their patient. "I'm definitely reading brain activity..."
"Blood pressure's rising, approaching normal threshold limits-"
"His Q, R and X-waves are going crazy here - no, wait, they're settling down."
The Catholic official quickly tuned the technobabble out, though. He was far too busy trying to figure out just *how* he was going to explain all this to His Holiness...without it sounding like the Second Coming, already...
Conference Room, Carle Foundation Hospital, Urbana. Half an hour later
Joshua Cleburne listened to someone on the phone, as all around him the room was a hive of activity. There was a search to organize for the two missing vampires, of course. But there was also the matter of 'handling' what had happened here in the hospital, tonight...
By this point, the rumors had already started flying about all over the place about the 'miracle patient', who had come back from something *very* few people ever did. And Esther Marcum for one knew there was no point in trying to get the staff to shut up about it; the damage was already done, and they could only hope the media wouldn't now get involved...
As soon as Xander Harris was fit to travel they were going to air-lift him out of here, and move to an STW hospital. And hopefully just ride out the whole 'coming back from the dead' thing, until something else got its 15 minutes in America.
"Okay, spread the search out another 50 miles. Give the cover story to the media, and get all the local law enforcement agencies on board," Cleburne said, before he hung up the telephone.
"Well?" Esther asked.
"Local cops found the body of the driver of the van they think Spike and Drusilla hitched a ride on, about 50 miles north of here. The driver went through a checkpoint, and told the officers he was headed towards Chicago," Cleburne explained.
"You think they're still headed towards Chicago?" the black woman then asked.
Cleburne scratched his forehead. "Makes sense. It's the closest urban area with a large demon populace they can blend into, or try to anyway."
Esther raised an eyebrow. "Try to?"
Cleburne turned to Red. "You're in charge till I get back. And tell Gunny to meet me downstairs; we're going hunting."
Los Angeles, California. A few minutes later
"One thing about vampires not breathing, you don't have to worry about bad breath," Gunn declared as he wrestled one of the undead. "'Course, you shouldn't get close enough to a vamp to have to worry about that..."
A baseball bat hit the back of the vampire's head, and allowed Gunn to shove a stake into its heart. The bloodsucker just grunted, as it turned to dust.
"Thanks, man" Gunn said to the Lost Boy wielding the bat. "Hey, I thought I told you to hang back!" Charles then said, as he recognized his helper as a pre-teenager he had cautioned to stay out of harm's way before the fighting.
"Hell no, G - I owe these bloodsuckers!" the Lost Boy known as Reggie said, as he hurried to attack another vampire. Gunn sighed as he recognized another orphan from the vampire attacks on the 'hood, one that reminded him way too much of himself in the old days.
Gunn looked around, as the Lost Boys fought the nest of vampires. Earlier that night, Gunn has gotten a call from his people; they had tracked down a vampire nest that had been preying on the society not glimpsed by the normal people of southern California.
The Lost Boys had been planning to attack the nest, and wanted Gunn and his truck to come along for the ride. Gunn had immediately agreed, hoping that the tension of what had happened with George and Rondell could finally be put to rest, and had convinced Gwen to come along to help; Angel and the others were unavailable, involved in trying to find a demon who was running a extortion racket. Gunn had promised to keep in touch and to come help them if needed.
And watching how everything was going, the former gang leader figured he and Gwen would be able to join up with the Fang Gang before too long.
The Lost Boys were easily dispatching the vampires. From what Gunn could tell, most of the vamps had been newbies. Gunn's old running buddies had been benefiting from the supplies given to them by their mysterious benefactor; and the only reason Reggie had been carrying a bat, instead of another type of weapon, was that he was supposed to have remained outside the abandoned warehouse and not rushed in.
The sound of a cell phone ringing caused Gunn to move towards Gwen. She answered the phone in question, "Raiden."
The woman listened for a few seconds. "What? Damn! Okay, what do you need me to do?" She listened for a few more seconds. "No, he's not with me right now."
Gunn was now worried, and listened to the one side of the conversation he could hear. "Well, he might have an idea or two, I'll find him and call you back."
Gwen hung up the phone. "Come on, we need to find Angel!" She started running and Gunn hurried after her, after seeing the battle was almost over and telling a guy named Chain that he had to go.
"What's wrong?" Gunn managed to ask, as he finally caught up to the thief.
"I need to find the boss of our little outfit, a vampire he used to run with is causing problems - and I need to find out what Angel can tell us, about what that particular vamp might do next," Gwen explained.
As the two ran out of the warehouse, Gunn noticed the view - and with some amusement, decided that running behind Gwen's ass was something he could very easily come to enjoy...
Recovery Room, Carle Foundation Hospital, Urbana. May 15, 2001
Xander took in a deep breath, as he awoke. He felt the IV needle in his arm, and instantly recognized it for what it was with a quick sensation of absolute loathing. His right hand instinctively went to his left arm, to yank it out.
"Don't pull the needles out. You need them where they are."
Xander turned his head and looked at Oz, who had addressed him. He then saw Fred, who was standing behind the musician/werewolf. "What happened?" the patient asked in a croaking voice.
"You took a shotgun blast in the back, for Hollins. Don't worry, though, he's all right. He was in here earlier; poor kid is still freaked out, but getting shot at will do that to you. And you've been in a coma since yesterday," Oz explained in his trademark calm way.
Xander blinked for a second. And then he *remembered*.
Faith. Enoch. The conversation they'd had, and even though he'd not seen any white light at the end of that dark tunnel.
"Rachael?" Harris asked in dread.
Oz and Fred exchanged a glance. "Don't worry about that for now." the Texan woman started to say soothingly.
"No, I want to know now!" Xander croaked, yet sounding firm. {Please, no, don't let what I saw be real.}
Fred swallowed hard, and took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry Xander, but she died yesterday...the same vampire who wounded you killed her, with that shotgun of his..."
The last fragments of uncertainty vanished from his mind, as a seething hatred - unlike anything he had ever known - was born in the heart of Alexander Lavelle Harris.
TBC...