Lie To Me, Part 6

(_)(_)(_)

Luck, it is said, favors fools and the innocent. Though the problem lies in the fact that it is widely accepted that it is mostly bad luck, rather than good.

Kendra, for all she would argue otherwise, was a bit of both, through no fault of her own. Though she had begun to see there might be a method to the Scoobies' madness, never mind there being another, better way to train a Slayer, or to fight as one, she hadn't even considered emulating said methods.

And bog-standard Council Slayers had one massive flaw. They fought alone. In small fights against one or two or, depending on the opponent, as many as half a dozen mid or low level demons, that wasn't usually a problem.

Against a mid to high level demon or, as in what Kendra found herself facing, an entire, organized Vampire Court or similar? Well, history was littered with the bodies of Slayers who had fallen to such overwhelming forces. Enhanced they might be, but they were still one person against many.

Not that Kendra was making it easy. True to her life-long training, she was a whirling dervish of death and destruction, no part of her still for even a moment, her weapons darting about as if they had lives of their own and were hungry for demon blood.

She killed three demons that came from Willy's Bar, injured five others badly enough they were forced to withdraw, and injured several more demons more lightly but enough to scare them into retreat. Unfortunately, Spike's Court, acting under his orders, proved far more elusive and difficult to even injure, never mind kill. With every strike, whether it missed or not, Kendra expended energy. The longer the fight drew out, the more she tired.

The results were inevitable. She'd taken a few small injuries – nothing more than nicks and bruises – as she'd fought. Now, however, she was tired and frustrated enough that in lunging for one just-out-of-reach demon, she both overextended herself and turned her back on another demon. A demon that took the opportunity to rake vicious claws down her unprotected back.

Kendra, who before this had been fighting in near-silence save for the occasional grunt of effort, yelled in pain and came perilously close to collapsing. Only sheer bloody-minded determination kept her on her feet despite the blood now pouring down her back.

This one time, good luck decided to favor the foolish and innocent.

(_)(_)(_)

Buffy frowned. The night thus far had been exceedingly frustrating. Nothing was happening. Buffy didn't mind this at all, for the record. She might think the people in the warehouse basement were complete and utter idiots for wanting to become vampires, but she didn't want them to die. It was just damned odd.

Some demon somewhere should have picked up on the out-of-townies and spread the word. Some demon or demons should have at least checked things out by now, if not gone through with a full-on attack. Yet nothing had happened.

It was hinky as all hell. And not knowing the whys and wherefores was frustrating. She wasn't the only one to be feeling it, either. Jon, Xander, and – amusingly given their opinions of each other – Angel had been pacing back and forth with gradually increasing energy and irritation since about fifteen minutes after they'd settled in to watch. She expected the growling to start any minute.

Really, as irritating as she found Jon and Xander's attitude towards Angel, and vice versa, the three of them could frequently be very entertaining without meaning to be.

Then, literally mid-step, Jon's head snapped up and he turned toward town proper. A second later he cussed violently, if very briefly.

"Buffy – Willy's. It's Kendra. Go!" Jon snapped.

Buffy didn't hesitate or question. She'd gotten used to him being able to hear etc more than she ever could. She was frequently thankful for it. Nor did she, in this instance, have to wonder why he'd said only her. Angel aside, she was the only one who could get there fast enough to do a damn bit of good. Sending Angel, at least in this case, was just plain stupid. A car, while faster, had to stay on the roads, lengthening the distance between here and there considerably.

She turned and ran.

Now, she blessed the constant patrolling and the resultant intimate knowledge of Sunnydale that resulted. She knew every possible shortcut between herself and Willy's. She pushed herself faster than she'd ever had reason to before, vaulting over cars, fences, benches and anything else that wasn't a building that got in her path without so much as breaking stride, never mind slowing down.

What she saw when Willy's finally came into view made her blood run cold. A dozen or more demons – they were moving around too much for her to count accurately – surrounded a staggering and bleeding Kendra who was, somehow, against all odds, still trying to fight.

Buffy deliberately let out a loud, incoherent noise of rage as she pulled one of the swords she'd armed herself with before they left. Let them know she was coming. Let them see her. At absolute worst, her arrival would distract them and give Kendra a few more precious seconds to live and fight. At best, it'd terrify the holy hell out of them and they'd run for the hills.

The group of demons apparently decided to split the difference. About half of them took one look at an enraged, charging Slayer and ran for their lives. The rest, including one with a shock of white-blonde hair, shifted their attention.

So. This was Spike. And he clearly meant to add at least one more Slayer to his tally.

Not on her watch.

She kept everything she'd been told about him in mind. Intelligent, adaptable, and a fierce and capable fighter. A true Master Vampire despite his relative youth as vampires judged such things. Definitely not someone to underestimate.

Lucky for her and Kendra, Buffy knew she only had to hold out for a few minutes. Giles and the others would pile into their vehicles and break every speed law Sunnydale had getting here. They'd be no more than three minutes behind her.

Buffy gently herded Kendra against an available wall.

"Hang on, you hear me?" She said. "Don't you fucking die. Don't let these assholes win."

There was no answer beyond a pained wheeze, but that was answer enough. As long as she was breathing, Kendra was alive.

Then the demons – except for Spike, who Buffy noted was watching avidly – closed in.

This was not a kind of fight they'd planned for. Rallying around an injured teammate? Yes. Holding their own, alone? Not so much. Buffy made due mental note to find a way to practice such a thing. They depended a bit too much on the whole group dynamic.

Don't get her wrong. She loved that she wasn't doing this alone. But failing to consider the possibility of having to fight alone while protecting someone was a bit of an oversight. Just because they planned to work in teams of at least three didn't mean they'd always have a fellow able-bodied fighter at their backs.

Buffy mentally marked a line just out of weapons reach of herself. Anything that got on her side of the line? Fair game. Anything that stayed on the other side? Got watched but not attacked. Buffy didn't dare leave Kendra vulnerable for even a second. As badly wounded as she seemed to be, one good swipe would finish her off.

And boy, did the demons ever try to lure her away from Kendra. Stuff that might just have worked on a Council trained Slayer but that Buffy wasn't buying for a second. At the same time, the demons were, wisely, leery of closing with a Slayer that had her back to a wall. The result was something of a stalemate.

Then the gang arrived, horns blaring full blast. The car in the lead didn't even slow down. It just headed straight for the group of demons, forcing them to dive out of the way or get crushed. Jon, who happened to be behind the wheel with Cordelia riding shotgun (and possibly someone in the backseat, Buffy only got a split-second glimpse as they roared past), more or less stood on the brakes, given the loud squealing, smoke, and rubber laid when he did finally stop.

Even as that was happening, the second car came barreling in behind and slammed on its brakes in similar fashion. The rest of the Scoobies proper except for Angel disgorged from it like the world's most deadly clown car, arrows flying before anyone had even managed to get their feet on the ground.

The demons, rather understandably, broke and ran.

Buffy, with all her strength, threw her stake at Spike's retreating back. She was rewarded by an inhuman scream of pain. Although that did tend to suggest she hadn't managed to hit his heart. Ah well, if she couldn't stake him, she'd take hurting him bad. Dealing with that wound was going to be an utter bitch.

"Give me a hand. She's bad. We have to get her to the hospital." Buffy said as she turned towards Kendra.

Who was, it had to be said, somehow still on her feet. Though Buffy wasn't sure how aware she was. Her eyes were glassy and shocky looking – worse than Cordelia had been over the body parts in the dumpster incident.

Jon and Giles both hustled over, gently divesting Kendra of weapons and easing her towards one of the cars even as they tried to assess her wounds. Xander ran up with their first aid kit and a blanket. The kit was mostly useless – Kendra's wounds were far too extensive for most of what was in there – but the blanket, they used as both a method to stem the bleeding and give at least some tiny measure of warmth to Kendra.

There was a complicated dance to get Kendra into the car. They somehow managed to slide her in so she laid on her stomach on Jon and Xander's laps. Buffy snatched the keys from Giles. This once, her crazy driving was an asset.

She laid rubber towards Sunnydale General.

(_)(_)(_)

It was nearly noon.

Kendra had been hustled straight into surgery when they'd arrived. Jon, bless him, kept them updated as much as he could before the interference of so much sensory information made it impossible to do so, even with Xander's help. The more he trained, the less that sort of thing would be a problem, but for now, he had very definite limits.

It was, in a word, not good. Kendra's back had apparently been laid open from neck to waist down to the bone. By some miracle, she hadn't been eviscerated, but that was the only mercy. If she had been anything other than a Slayer, she probably would have died of her wounds. As it was, she'd be at least a month healing. At least. If she survived.

None of them had bothered to go find Zabuto and let him know Kendra was in bad shape and might die. According to mom (the only one staying at home rather than haunting the hospital), he had yet to show up looking for her.

Buffy wondered if he'd gone home, assuming Kendra had died in the night. He wouldn't have been far from wrong. If the Scoobies hadn't been in town, he'dve been absolutely right. The whole damn thing was all Buffy needed (if she'd needed anything else after other evidence) to know the Council and most of its Watchers were utterly horrifying.

It made her beyond grateful they'd sent her Giles. Even if they'd hoped the match-up would kill her off. It hadn't, he could deal with her and her weirdness, and that was all that mattered.

Finally, the surgeon, looking utterly exhausted, came into the waiting room. Exhausted, Buffy noted with rising hope, but not like he'd lost the fight.

"Miss Young made it through surgery." He announced, prompting a sigh of relief from everyone. "She is still in critical condition. She has lost a great deal of blood and has we had to remove her spleen and whatever cut her so badly missed her liver by literally a millimeter. If she makes it through the rest of today, she'll be on much more stable footing, but infection is a very real concern."

"Thank you, doctor. When can we see her?"

"She'll be in the ICU in an hour."

The surgeon left. Once he was gone, they all of them sagged into their chairs like they didn't have skeletons anymore.

"Thank fucking god." Jon said. "That was too fucking close. I'm going to call Sam. Won't be able to heal her completely right now, not with her under so much observation, but enough to stabilize her and make sure she makes it. Sam can do the rest once we get her out of here."

"Thanks Jon." Buffy said, meaning it on more than one level.

He grinned at her, then headed off to make a phone call no one around here should overhear.

"All in favor of stealing Kendra from the Council?" Xander asked.

Even Cordelia raised her hand.

"The motion carries. Giles, you get to tell Zabuto. I don't trust myself to not punch his teeth down his throat."

Giles shot Xander a look. "And you assume I will not?"

That made Buffy huff a laugh. "More like we think you'll do something a lot more painful and permanent if he gets uppity." She said.