Buffy snatched Spike out of the air by his collar and pinned him to the ground. Methos backpedaled and backed into Xander. The younger man shoved Methos away reflexively and moved to help Buffy. Spike was writhing and bucking like a seizure victim as Buffy tried to pin him down.
Methos cursed and moved to assist. Spike snarled and broke free from Buffy – no small feat- and leapt at Methos. The immortal dodged the incensed Vampire. Or he thought he had. As Spike launched over Methos he landed neatly three feet behind the immortal and lashed out to wrap an inhumanly powerful arm around the immortal's throat.
If there was one thing an immortal learned well and early, it was to defend his neck. Methos instinctively ducked his head and shrugged his shoulders up to his ears preventing Spike from throttling him. The Vampire managed to crush his nose with enough force that it exploded like an overripe tomato against his face. As the immortal's blood soaked Spike's forearm and wrist the vampire snatched his arm back as though he'd been bitten or burned.
Spike cackled and began biting and tearing at the blood on his clothing and skin. Methos was blinded by blood, tears and pain. Xander hauled him away from Spike with one hand and pulled Buffy to her feet with the other. As Xander hauled the two out of the way the remaining slayers closed in on Spike. The Vampire was soon subdued but not calmed.
An amazing array of belts, bracelets, shoe laces, jackets and anything that could be used to tie him festooned the vampire like confetti. The dozen or so young slayers looked breathless and peeved.
"Whad wud dad?" Methos demanded pawing at his crushed nose. It was healing but it hurt like a bitch. He spat out half congealed blood and glared at the incensed vampire.
"There are no vampires in your world right?" Xander asked rhetorically. He still had a hand on Methos' arm. Methos glared at Xander through a mask of blood and nodded once.
"So as far as anyone knows a vampire has never had an immortal's blood before." He muttered more to himself than to Methos. The immortal felt a chill followed by a hot wash of shame and embarrassment.
"Idz addigdive." He suggested. Xander and Willow nodded almost in unison.
"Grad now whud?" Methos asked wiping at his face with his bare hand.
"Well, we're stuck underground with an immortal idiot, an insane vampire, no food or water and –"
"I ged it smard azz." Methos growled. Well, not really Methos. Almost since Buffy had first jumped Methos a version of Adam had been running things. Methos, the horseman, the strategic genius, the warlord was taking a siesta.
Xander glared at Methos reached out, gripped the immortal's nose and hauled on it once, sharp and hard. There was a sick crack and Methos drew in a deep breath. The rest of the group winced at the sound.
"Ouch." Methos complained as a pale blue light crawled over his shattered nose knitting it together.
Xander ignored him.
"We need to go back. " Buffy sighed.
" What makes you think you can make it?" Methos asked curiously.
"Don't you mean we?" Xander asked.
"No, not really. Look if you lot die then my friends go free, and I'm immortal. It will take a great deal more than a bit of deprivation to put me down for good."
"I've got a sword." The young slayer, Kim. Sneered. The brunette who had nearly lost her arm was hovering near Willow but she spared Methos a hostile glare.
"Nothing personal kids, fact is a fact. " Methos shrugged. As he dropped his shoulders a light appeared at the end of the hallway. Literally. The slayers perked up and Methos turned toward it.
"Mr. Pierson, you've done very well, very well indeed." It was the face's voice. Methos bristled and strode toward the light.
"No need for that Mr. Pierson, I am not physically here. If you and your new friends –if I may call them that – would like to be free of this dull place, please, step into the light."
Methos held up a hand motioning the others back away from it.
"You let them go, back to Cleveland and leave them alone. You take me back to where I belong and leave me alone. "
"Or?"
"Or I kill you."
"Kill me? You can't even find me-" The face fell quiet with a disturbing abruptness. Methos glanced back at his companions, willow was holding her hands palm up and chanting. Methos didn't waste time asking questions. He raced toward the light, the majority of the slayers followed him. Buffy, Xander, and Kennedy stayed with Willow.
The light was a doorway, crumpled in front of it was a man. Or something man shaped. It was obsidian black and steaming. Methos made a mental note to never fuck with the little red head and kept running. Answers were beyond that light. He knew that. As he hit the light he felt his skin tingle.
The light beyond was familiar. He felt his heart sink. He was back in the desert. Only now he didn't have any gear. He glanced behind him hopefully but the doorway was gone. He hung his head and cursed. The sun was creeping toward the horizon, it would be dark soon and freezing.
He started walking only to hear a startled screech behind him. The boy, Xander, was half kneeling in the coarse sand, one arm dramatically shielding his eyes from the searing sun. Company was something Methos supposed. He waited to see if anyone else would appear, he thought he could see the outline of a woman but it shimmered and faded in the sunlight.
"I really don't like you." Xander sighed and got to his feet as Methos studied him.
"I don't mind you." Methos said pulling his tattered shirt over his head and wrapping it in a clumsy turban. Xander gawked at the taller man's ultra pale skin.
"You're gonna fry lobster man." He observer wryly.
"I'm immortal, keep up." Methos sighed and started walking. Xander scowled but dutifully followed the immortal.
"Y'know if we wait Buffy and Willow will probably find us."
"No, they won't. Look remember when I told you about the desert they kicked me out in? Well guess where we are."
"So we walk to civilization-"
"Somehow I doubt this is still your world." Methos interrupted.
"Uhm why? What are you a Slider?" Xander asked with a snicker. Methos glared at him briefly. The boy spouted random pop culture references as easily as he breathed.
"Instinct." Methos said shortly. Xander opened his mouth to argue, or babble, or make a joke. Methos pressed his forefinger to the boy's dry lips and shook his head.
"Save your breath, and your moisture." Methos murmured looking over Harris' shoulder and back toward the patch of sand they'd emerged on. The female outline was back. Xander followed Methos' gaze and raced toward it.
Methos spent less than half a second pondering ordering the boy to walk in the heat, but the shimmering image had solidified in to Willow. Only it wasn't Willow, not their Willow. She was older, scarred and there was no joy or mirth in her features.
"Will!" Xander cried happily.
"Alexander." She intoned with all the dignity of a noble warrior and nodded at him. He blinked and glanced at Methos.
"She's not our Willow, Harris." Methos said quietly. Xander had, of course, realized this by now, had likely known it from the moment she had appeared. Still, outside confirmation was nice.
"You are lost, I can help you find your way home, both of your homes but you must be fast and listen well."
Methos thought about pointing out his eidetic memory but didn't bother.
"You will have two choices to make. Each time take the harder path." She hissed at Xander.
She turned to Methos, her expression unmistakably one of loathing.
"Madman, murderer, raper, child slayer, you will also have two choices. Do as you like."
"Now, are you saying that because it really doesn't matter, or because you despise me?" He smirked. She swallowed hard, her face twitched and she spoke.
"The first choice will cost you dearly, listen to Duncan." She shimmered and was gone.
"O-kay." Xander drawled and looked up at Methos.
"Nice hat, what now?"
"Find civilization." Methos said shortly.
"Is –"
"What she said true? I'm old kid you live long enough anything seems reasonable under the right circumstances. "
"So you've murdered children?"
"Where do you see this conversation going?" Methos asked. Xander frowned.
"You find out I was a monster and hate me, or you find out I was a monster and want to know what 'fixed' me. Either way I'm not interested." Methos growled.