A/N: I realized belatedly that I forgot to post a chapter last week. HA. Anyway, I'm back.
Also hello again to JayeMaru! Glad you're still enjoying the story :)
-.-
"So how is this supposed to help?" Beth inquired, holding up the pieces of hemp rope (which she jokingly pretended to smoke—something her aunt found absolutely not funny).
"It's the spell Andrew gave me," Willow replied.
"It's guaranteed to locate an entity in any universe or dimension," said Watcher assured, nodding his head vigorously. "I crossed referenced it with—"
"Good for you," Beth interrupted, throwing the rope down in the pile of supplies they had. They'd reconvened back at the rock alcove near the lake, hoping that they'd be able to establish a more secure connection with the entity. It was figured that since this was the last place he was, they ran the highest chance of finding him here. She wasn't entirely sure of their logic—and she was pretty sure Willow wasn't either—but it was all they had to go on. There was no pattern to appearances, so they were hoping to pull him toward the location the next time he was expected to break through.
"Bethie, can you lay the pieces of rope down making a pentagram?" Willow asked, only glancing up from her paper for a second. Beside her, Esme was crushing something into a powder, looking very involved. Most of her male relatives were here, including the younger ones Beth despised. She'd glared at them upon arrival, making sure they knew she didn't want to have to deal with any of their shit. But they seemed to understand that they were here to work and hadn't made any comments at her. Esme had also said they only did it because Zack had been around anyway, so with him still away at college, the other boys didn't have much to tease about.
Speaking of Zack, he was pretty upset he was missing all of this. In order to harness more power, Esme had gone to her family's council to bring the rest of the family onboard. Poor Zack would have been involved, if it weren't for those pesky finals and that one thing he needed to graduate—you know, pass his classes. For now, he was stuck having to hear about if after the fact. Oh well. You can't win everything.
"Pentagram?" Beth muttered. "We summoning Lucifer?" She did as she was asked though, making the ropey shape.
Once she finished, she heard rather than saw her father's car pull up. While Beth had quickly dismissed the entity as being dangerous, Buffy scoffed at the idea of not being prepared. Besides, she was the slayer which Beth guessed meant she had to have some sort of weapon on her or be a disgrace (Beth still had so much to learn about slayerhood). Her father also seemed hesitant to write the entity off, but that was probably born from a misplaced, inherent need to protect family. It was misplaced because both his wife and daughter could probably wipe the floor with him if they put their minds to it. And it they teamed up, well, woof.
"Are you almost done?" Buffy asked, impatient. She'd barely gotten out of the car before letting the question fly. Spike rolled his eyes. And people thought he was impatient.
"Soon," Esme assured with a smile. "We still have at least half an hour before anything is supposed to happen. We will be done by then. How's Nadja?"
"Right pissed we didn't bring her," Spike answered, causing Esme to grin. "Girl's more of a whiner than I gave her credit for."
"Yes, she can be quite demanding when she wants to be," Esme replied. "She's so sweet, sometimes I forget how spoiled she is."
"That explains why she blowing up my phone," Beth added, holding up her phone for emphasis, the screen never darkening as she kept getting a new text like every ten seconds. "I had to put it on silent or risk it vibrating off into the distance."
"Maybe we should have brought her," Willow suggested.
Buffy snorted. "I've already got enough potential casualties," she said, gesturing toward the group of Kalder men behind them, "and I don't need another."
"My family can take care of themselves," Esme told her, sounding a bit irritated. "But I do agree that Nadja should not be here. There are many things that can go wrong. As it is, I'm not sure how stable this connection will be."
"So what you're saying is that we could all die?" Beth asked. "Well, I wish you could have told me that sooner. I just wrote this ten-page paper and now you're saying that I could have spent my time doing something so much better?"
"We're not going to die," Willow said with a roll of her eyes.
"You're saying that, but your girlfriend isn't," she pointed out.
"It's best to know all your options," Esme said, shaking her head.
"Murphy's Law," Willow mumbled, getting distracted by the task at hand.
"Is that a Pentagram?" Buffy asked. "I thought we were trying to find an entity, not summon the devil."
"That's what I said!" Beth shouted.
"It's a symbol used by practicing witches and has many meanings across cultures," Willow explained slowly, irritably. "Besides, it only symbolizes evil if it's upside down."
"Well, if I stand over there rather than here—" Beth started, only stopping when she looked up to see Willow glaring at her. "Fine, good pentagram, not used for evil."
"It symbolizes a connection with the elements," Esme explained, "and it was what the spell suggested. I assume maybe a way to manipulate the elements in order to let an outside force come through."
"It was either this or invite Dawn down here to open up a vein," Willow said, "and last time that happened, the world almost ended. I saw this as the safer route."
"Just keep up with the mojo, Red," Spike told her.
"Aye, Aye capt'n!" she saluted, returning to her work. Behind them, the other Kalders had begun to chant something, likely aligning their chakras or something. As much as Beth had wanted to learn magic before, the desire had waned over the years. It was still interesting, but too stressful trying to fight against her father about it (he was just too willing to put too much effort into it). Besides, she was already a slayer. Magic on top of it? Talk about showing-off.
Bored again, she took a seat up on a larger boulder, starting off on her thousand-yard stare. Not like there was much else to do for at least another half hour. That entity better show up or she was going to have a fit. She could be doing something much more interesting right now, like reading a book or something. Okay, well, not reading a book, but something! Something better!
"So Buffy told me you actually spoke with this entity," Andrew began, sidling up next to Beth.
Rolling her eyes, she grumpily asked, "You're not here to debrief me, are you? I'm not interested in answering your twenty questions."
"But it's for our records!" he whined. "And I'm your Watcher, you have to do what I say!"
Beth shot him a look, letting him know just how funny she thought that idea was (ha, her listening to him? Yeah right). "Wells, when have I ever done what you said? And without any sort of ulterior motive?"
He opened his mouth like he was prepared to answer, but immediately shut it when he realized he didn't have anything to say. "Just because I can't remember it right now doesn't mean it never happened at all," he insisted. "And please."
She sighed heavily. "Guess this'll be the only way to pass time," she decided forlornly. "What kind of questions do you have?"
"Mostly stuff for my Watcher's diary," he told her.
"You keep a diary?" she asked, amused.
"For Watching," he huffed, "and there's nothing wrong with writing out your daily thoughts. It's actually very therapeutic. You should try it."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you implying there?"
His eyes got very wide. "Nothing," he said quickly—too quickly.
"You think I'm messed up then?" she inquired further, leaning toward him. He leaned back. "What exactly do you write about me in that diary? And send in those reports to Mr. Giles?"
He laughed awkwardly. "Nothing you wouldn't already be aware of," he promised. "Obvious things—what patrols were like, who you killed."
"But you also tell him about my aptitude," she added.
"Of course!"
"Well isn't my mental fitness a part of that?" she asked, head tilted.
He averted his eyes; he seemed to be hatching an escape plan when he noticed her small, amused grin. "You're teasing me," he realized, shoulder slumping.
"Well yeah," she said. "You might have been my Watcher for over two years, but you have been my friend since I was eight. Of course, I'm going to tease you. But it's all in good fun."
"Well, will you answer my questions now?" he pleaded.
She shrugged. "Suppose I should after being a bit of a wanker. Ask away, Wells."
He fired away with his questions, turning out to be quite the good distraction. By the time he had gotten all he needed to know, Esme and Willow had finished their work and were standing back to examine it.
"I think this is it," Willow stated, hands on hips. "Everything should be perfect."
"How far back do you think we should make everyone stand?" Esme asked, looking around. Most everyone was already a good distance away, save Spike, who seemed to be eyeing the set-up with some doubt, and Beth who was walking closer to get a good look.
"So this is supposed to bring him here?" Beth asked, studying it. "Looks like a bunch of rope and sand."
"Don't forget the painted rocks," Spike snorted. "How sure are you that this'll work?"
"Um, about eighty percent," Willow told him. "This isn't guaranteed. It's not an exact science."
"It's not a science at all," he muttered under his breath, turning to go back to the car where Buffy was waiting, leaning against the front of the hood, very bored.
"So now we start chanting?" Beth inquired.
"No, they start chanting," Esme said, pointing toward her family.
"Still no girls allowed?" Beth asked and Esme harrumphed.
"It's the only way they'd agree to do it," Willow said with a sigh. "Old fogies."
"But some of them are teenagers like me," Beth pointed out.
"Who will grow up to be old fogies that keep their female relatives out of the equation!"
"I feel as if you are more incensed by this than I am," Esme noted. "And I'm the one in the family. I suppose I've just gotten used to it."
"How did you learn magic then, if nobody wanted to teach it to you?" Beth asked.
"Simple: steal," she explained shortly, grinning. "Now come on, we need to move. We don't want to be too close if this thing does work."
"You'd probably lose more than your eyebrows," Willow hinted.
Beth followed obediently, liking to keep all her pieces—eyebrows included—intact. She stood back as she watched the other Kalders join hands and form a circle, beginning their chant. It wasn't in English and with their deep voices, sounded just a tad demonic. She opted out of pointing it out to everyone when she noticed how serious all their expressions were. Even her father, always the skeptic when it came to magic being "the only way," looked very solemn. It was an odd look on him she decided.
With the chanters being of little interest, she turned her attention back to the main attraction: the pentagram where the dimensional tear was supposed to appear. It could all end up being a bust, who knew? As of now though, it was just really dull. And they had two full hours to find out it if was.
"Would it be possible to make the entity appear on our schedule?" Beth asked Andrew in a low tone.
"Probably not," he replied. "Summoning is possible, but this is a delicate situation. We could tear universes apart if we're not too careful."
"Then maybe we shouldn't be trying this at all?" she suggested, though she knew it was dumb. She'd been all gung-ho about it earlier. And it wasn't like there was another way. This entity was not an easy man to get to and it was not the first time she wondered if that wasn't by design. It was possible that someone—or something—had done their part to ensure this entity got itself stuck in probably the most precarious of places possible. For all they knew, any attempts to save him would only result in disaster.
Guess though it was time to figure that out. Not even five minutes into chanting and the very air around them seemed to shift, much like it had when Beth had been here just a scant few days before. A loud cracking sound echoed through the area and soon the air above the pentagon was shifting, a thin white line spreading out of nowhere.
"Is this what you saw?" Andrew asked, sounding awed.
"Yup," she answered with a nod. "It's almost déjà vu, except I remember it happening the first time."
The group's chanting came to an abrupt halt when an earsplitting scream filled the air, making everyone cover their ears. Except Buffy, who looked more than a little pissed off.
"Oh stop being dramatic!" she shouted when it stopped. "We can all hear you fine!"
"Help me!" he called out, his voice pained. "Help me!"
"We can't do anything if you don't tell us who you are and what you were doing to end up like this," she explained in her mother, no-nonsense voice (something Beth was quite familiar with unfortunately). "You say you're trapped and need help, but I'm going to need a lot more than that."
The air was still for a moment and Beth half-expected the crack to disappear in on itself. It didn't though, and soon the entity was talking again.
"My name is Elusor," he began, sounding almost hesitant.
"Never heard of him," Willow hissed to Esme, who only shrugged in response.
"I come from a dimension far beyond your own," he continued, "one far beyond your own understanding."
"Try me," Buffy prompted dryly.
There was a pause. "I come from a dimension without body or form," he said. "I am composed of energy, and it is the reason I cannot fully manifest on your plane of existence."
"Entity, knew it. Got it in one," Beth murmured, fist bumping the air.
"I had been attempting to travel, as I have done many times before," he continued, either unaware of Beth's small interjection or just beyond caring, "but something went wrong. I do not know what, but I became trapped, fused into your dimension with no ability to enter into it. It has been unpleasant—and painful.
"I have been trying to return home, but with little success," he finished. "I do not have enough energy of my own to do so. I have nothing powerful enough."
Ignoring the whole bit about being in pain (how can something without a body with nerve endings feel anything?), Willow said, "Your attempts to leave have been affecting our plane. It's been greatly harming people. But we—as in many of us here—have power as well. Maybe not like your own, but we might be able to help you. Do you happen to know what sort of power you would need to get home safely?"
Half-expecting him to say some random magic mumbo-jumbo Beth didn't understand (or hell, even Redbull), she was completely thrown off-guard when he said—without even hesitating—"a soul. A human soul. One freely given or the power from the magic would be voided."
"A soul?" Buffy cried before anyone else could say anything, much less shake off their initial sense of shock. "You want us to give you a soul?"
"Yes," he reaffirmed. "A soul is a source of power and one of the most powerful ones there is. It provides life when other powers cannot."
Obviously, he'd never heard of life support.
"But why human?" Esme inquired, ever the sensible one.
"I know of your plane and human if by far the cleanest," he told them. "Anything inferior would simply die or cause much of the same problem as you have seen before."
"Does anyone else feel like this is bull?" Spike asked, looking around at everyone.
"No, he's right," Willow said slowly. "A human soul is incredibly powerful. It's just not often used as a source of power. It's dangerous."
"And, hello, you can't live without your soul," Buffy added.
"Hello," Spike said, waving his hand in her face. "Ex-vampire here. I lived without one."
And in that moment, the most beautiful and possibly terrible plan formed in Beth's head. She was surprised she was the first one to think of it. Or, more likely, the first one to actually consider it. How dead was her mother going to kill her?
"Can't be done," Buffy said to the entity before Beth could voice her awesome, nasty little thought.
"Buffy—" Willow began, looking frantic. Reasonably so. This was so far the only idea they had to actually free the bodiless entity and Buffy was throwing it out like last week's trash. If they didn't do something, they ran the chance of having a whole new Grand Canyon smack dab next to Seattle. Great idea—would be a beautiful attraction—only problem being was that lots of people currently lived there.
"I can't maintain myself much longer here, but you must help me!" the entity pleaded. "I beg of you!"
"We'll figure something out, but on my terms," Buffy told him, her tone brooking no argument.
The entity let out a wail, almost sorrowfully, before the crack disappeared and the group was all left in the dying light of the sun.
Beth looked around, most of whom looked shocked and confused. Rightfully so, considering this was no normal, average day adventure. Powerful entities did not just get stuck in between dimensions every day after all.
"I've got an idea," Beth finally said. "But you're all probably really going to hate it."
-.-
"Are you out of your mind?" Her mother shrieked, back in their house. They were sitting in the dining room—or, more accurately, Beth, Willow, and her father were sitting while Buffy paced the floor in front of the table, visibly angry. Andrew was mostly out of the picture, having taken refuge up on the kitchen under the guise of "making coffee" (Beth didn't hear no grinder).
"No," Beth assured, though she knew that was a rhetorical question. She just had to get her two cents in somehow.
"I will not have you sacrificing yourself to save the world like this!" her mother continued, voice just as loud.
She rolled her eyes. How overly dramatic. "I'm not 'sacrificing' myself as you so kindly put it. I won't be dead. At least, not in the traditionally sense."
"Bethie, we don't even know the nature of your soul to even begin to contemplate this," Willow added. "And even if we did, you don't know what you're talking about!"
"Uh, yes I do. See, I have a soul to spare, what with being part-human, part-vampire. I simply hand over my human soul and voila, the entity is gone, the world is saved, and nobody else had to die. A pretty good trade if I do say so myself."
"Mighty Zeus and Hera!" her mother proclaimed, throwing her hands up. "Spike, are you really just listening to this? Aren't you going to say anything?"
Spike, who had been sitting mostly quiet in his chair beside Beth, looked up from his deep contemplation. Buffy was just standing there, eyes wild and chest heaving, looking at him with angry expectation.
"What do you want me to say?" he asked in a low tone.
"See? Dad gets it," Beth said.
"No."
She blinked. "No?" she repeated, confused.
"No," he stated again. "As your father, I'm saying no, as in no you won't."
Taken aback, she blinked. Wasn't he supposed to be on her side? After all, it wasn't like anyone else got it. They'd never been vampires so they didn't understand. But he had; he knew what it was like. He was supposed to agree with her "But Dad—" she started, whiney.
"No!" he shouted, standing up and pounding his fists on the table hard enough to make the whole thing shake and send Willow and Beth reeling backward. "I said no."
"Maybe this isn't your decision to make," she bit out furiously, once she'd gotten over her shock. "Would you rather we just sit on our arses while this thing destroys the town—the world?"
"Beth, you're not even thinking clearly," her mother interrupted angrily. "We're not just going to sit here while you sacrifice yourself!"
"It's not like I'm going off to die," she countered, rolling her eyes.
"You might as well be!" her father shouted, incensed again. "You think you know what you're asking for, but you don't! I thought maybe I had taught you somethin', but you've gone an' proven me wrong! Do you know what it means to lose your soul? It's not like the changin' you do when you grow up, Beth. It's losin' your humanity, everything that makes you you. You say you won't die, but you do. You won't be yourself anymore."
"And if you think for a second I'm going to let that happen, you are mistaken," her mother hissed, slamming her open palm down on the table. "I'm not about to see my daughter become a vampire."
Beth laughed mirthlessly. "A bit late for that, isn't it? I already am one, Mum. Or did you forget I can do this?" Quickly, she changed into her vamp face, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of her mother. She only stared back unflinchingly.
"I know what's it's like to change, Beth," her father told her—urgently, seriously. "You wake up thinkin' so little of who you used to be. You move out an' a demon moves in. You don't seem to get that. You think because your body'll still be walkin' around, you won't die. You might as well be! You won't be you."
"No, it's you who doesn't get it," she spat back, standing up. "You think I don't know what it's like, what, because I've never been some murderous vampire like you?" He flinched at her tone, but she kept going. "But I do because I've lived like this my whole damn life! You think I don't have a clue, but I know that burning, Dad. It's been present in me since the day I was born. I know I won't be the same, but what you don't seem to grasp is that what you're so afraid of—me becoming a vampire—is already a part of who I am. I am a vampire, Dad, just not in the conventional sense you're all used to."
"Stop it!" her mother shouted. "Just stop it! You are not doing this and that is all there is to be said on the subject. As the senior slayer, I tell you what to do and you listen. You do not question my orders or commands. I forbid you from doing this, do you understand? That's an order."
"What, you're pulling rank of me now?" she asked, stunned.
"Listen," Willow finally interrupted in a pleading tone. "I think we're all being a little hasty here. We only just dealt with this—this energy guy and you're all already jumping to the next step. We need to step back for a bit and consider out options."
"We don't have that kind of time," Beth bit out. "The surges are getting worse, you've all been saying it!"
"I agree with Willow!" Andrew announced from the kitchen, making his presence known. He popped his head around the corner, giving each of them a wide-eyed look before continuing, "In my experience as a Watcher, both on the field and in the classroom, there is always more than one solution to a problem. We just need to find what it is."
"I say, and I repeat, we don't have the time," Beth said, gritting her teeth.
"And I say you're acting too hasty," Andrew retorted, gaining a little confidence in himself and his claim. "We've never jumped into matters before so I don't see why we should do so now. Give us some time to seek out our options before we do anything else."
"Yeah, we'll figure out a better way," Willow promised. "No one has to lose their soul—willingly or otherwise."
Sensing an impasse, she sunk back down into her chair, breathing out hard. Her father still had that hard set to his jaw, meaning that despite the argument being over verbally, there was still one warring on the inside. But despite Willow's assurances and Andrew's absolute belief in the Watcher Council and their resources, Beth wasn't feeling as confident as the rest. And judging by the hard look in her mother's eyes, she wasn't feeling too hot herself.
"We don't do anything until we know more about this," her mother ordered, her eyes locked on her daughter. Beth stared defiantly back, daring her mother into another verbal spar.
"I agree," Willow said, looking between both women. "Until I can better assess the situation, we shouldn't do anything. We wouldn't want to do anything rash." With that final phrase, she reached out to grab Beth's hand, likely to provide comfort, only to be left empty-handed when Beth jerked her arm away. She stood up abruptly, looking at no one.
"I'm going to my room," she stated, angrily striding toward the stairs. Everyone sat in silence as they listened to the harsh pounds of Beth's feet against the floor above, followed by the loud slamming of her door. Willow winced, remembering what it had been like living with Dawn when she was a teenager. Sometimes, she felt that Beth took after her aunt more than her own mother. Then again, maybe it made sense: yet another young girl living under the shadow of the Great Slayer Buffy Summers.
"What is wrong with that girl?" Buffy griped, falling down into a chair as she threw her hands up. "Did you hear her? Did you hear what she said?"
"We were all here, Buffy," Spike snapped angrily, clenching and unclenching his fists.
"I can't believe her! Have we taught her nothing?" she continued, almost as if her husband hadn't spoken. "I should have seen it with that stupid vampire Charlie. She had all the signs! God, how could she be so stupid?"
"Buffy, I think you're being a little harsh," Willow commented.
"I'm what?" Buffy asked, turning her hard gaze on her friend.
"I mean, Beth's only doing what slayers were innately supposed to want to do," Willow started uneasily. It was one thing going up against Buffy the Slayer; Momma Buffy was another matter entirely. "She wants to save the world."
"Has a death wish, you mean," Spike chuckled humorlessly. "She thinks she knows what it means to be a vampire, but she doesn't. She doesn't even know the half of it."
"Actually, I think she might know exactly half," Andrew cut in. He took a seat at the table as well, sitting up straight and folding his hands together. "I'd like to consider myself an expert on Beth."
Spike snorted, "Yeah, an' yet you look just as shocked every time she throws one of her temper tantrums."
"I meant more toward her nature," he clarified. "You may think you know better than her Spike, but remember, you were never like her."
"I was a vampire!" he argued. "I was even ensouled at one point! Tell me how that's not the same."
"The entire nature of Beth is not well understood," Andrew began. "We can't even definitively say if she's the first of her kind or not; the Watchers likely never would have recorded this information. She would have been considered an abomination."
"You think I don't know what?" Buffy spat. "If Travers was still around, I'd have to take Beth underground. We'd've been on the run for the rest of our lives!"
"But now we do record this," he continued. "We know more about Beth than we did when she was first born, but there's something none of us will ever understand about her, not even you Spike. You might have been a vampire, you might have even been a vampire with a soul, but that's not what Beth is. She's not a vampire with a soul. There's no torture or drive for redemption. She's never slaughtered or killed without righteous purpose. She's inherently different from you, despite a common, basic nature. Do we even know what it's like in her head? To be human, but to have this voice—something that thirsts for blood and chaos—whispering to you at all times? She's got the urge, Spike, it's easy enough to tell that. Sometimes I see it in her eyes when she fights monsters and even when she fights herself. I think she knows more about being a vampire than you give her credit for. After all, she's got one living in her head."
"I never thought I'd say this, but Andrew's right," Willow agreed. "Who knows what Beth would be like as a vampire anyway? She wouldn't go from human to vampire, she'd go from part-vampire to full-vampire. That's got to be different."
"That doesn't mean we're going to let her do this!" Buffy argued.
"Now, we never said that," Willow quickly soothed. "Andrew and I have already decided we want more information before we jump into anything. We'll find another way, one that doesn't include the vampification of your only child."
The statement appeased Buffy, at least for the moment. There was a somber feeling settling over the table as it was. Why? Because it was easier to say there was another solution than to find one.