A/N: I have to say: I'm loving your feedback! It pleases me to no end that you guys are enjoying my story.
I realize that my posts are taking a bit long, but I reiterate- My Mother Is In The Hospital.
Some things take priority over others, cough Buffy Fan cough . Besides, I'm moving in two days, so I'm not sure how quickly I'll be able to update.
I'm sorry if I've made you guys wait, but I promise to try and get the story updated faster. And you can expect a hellova lot more coming soon, and sooner than you guys think! Believe me, the wait will be well worth it, I promise!
So, I've been thinking a lot about your requests with the couples. And I'll only say this: a few of those suggestions are pretty much on the money! But I'm gonna try and keep you guessing as to who ends up with who. Oh, and keep your eyes peeled. You never know when a surprise visit is going to happen, somewhere in the story! (And yes, that WAS a hint.) So, without further ado, I present to you….
Part 5 –Crash Landing
In the back alley of the meatpacking district, 'Cordelia' gasped.
She was quite winded from the latest turn of events. Grasping against the brick wall of the alley, she fumbled for control of her balance. She could feel her baby growing within her every passing second. It was coming.
Losing Connor and her sacrifice definitely were complications she hadn't counted on. No doubt in her mind that Darla had taken them back to Angel's.
Darla, she thought, seething as the perspiration began to trickle down her forehead. That little bitch! She couldn't just stay dead, could she? I bet it was the Powers that sent her…morons. And I had to be stupid enough to make her human.
It was a gamble, at best. She figured that the boy would have gladly done her bidding if it meant saving his precious mother. She could feel her control on him waning even before Darla's unwanted interjection. Now, there was little doubt that 'Cordy' had lost her grip on The Destroyer completely.
This was all Darla's fault. She took her sacrifice, she took her mate…and now she was going to help Angel try to take her baby, too.
Oh, she's gotta go, she thought maliciously as she managed to find her way back into the abandoned building.
She stumbled back onto the makeshift mattress she had set up for her delivery. She knew she needed another sacrifice soon. It was only a matter of time before Angel found her. She needed time.
Time for the baby.
The baby.
That was all that mattered.
But first, she had to take care of Darla. She probably knew too much. If the Powers sent her, then they probably told her how to stop the baby from being born. And that made Darla dangerous.
Too dangerous to live.
Shakily, she drew a breath as she held out her palms. A small, red glowing amber appeared in her hands.
Ok, Darla, she smiled, wickedly. Think you can just waltz back in here and ruin the birth of a new world? Well, don't worry honey…'cause Mama's saved the last dance…just for you.
Wesley sat, pensative, gazing at the piles of books and papers in his office.
Or at least, the room that was once his office.
Not much had changed in that dark green room. There were still a formidable library of books on demonology, vampiredom, mystical phenomena and Watcher's Diaries he had pilfered from the Council…when they still existed.
But he knew, he felt somewhere deep down that it was no longer his office to reside in. He had lost that privilege nearly a year ago, when he made the decision that had altered his life, and in the process, altered many lives now hanging precariously in the balance…
To steal a still-infant Connor from his father.
He could play back in his keen mind the events as if they had just happened five minutes ago. He could still feel the icy chill of Justine's blade sliding across his throat, as she stole the boy to Holtz, leaving him lying in the middle of nowhere, life pouring out of him.
And the fright of impending death, the clamping of his nostrils as Angel, his long-time friend, maybe even his best friend, tried to suffocate him with his own pillow as he lay dying in a hospital bed, the souled vampire enraged over his betrayal and kidnapping of his only son. Whom Wesley was only trying to protect from what was, what he thought, a death sentence, foretold by a fake prophecy, to be executed by his own father.
You Son of a BITCH! You're gonna PAY for what you did!…You took my son!…You expect me to forgive you! NO! I'll NEVER forgive you! You took my son!… You're a dead man, Pryce! You're DEAD! YOU HEAR ME! DEAD! DEAD!
And the crack of his breaking heart as Fred, a woman he had become very fond of, perhaps even……telling him with hurt in her eyes, and anger in her southern-laced voice to never come back to the hotel. That he no longer had a place there. He was no longer welcome back in the place that was, for the longest time, his home. With the only people he had ever truly known as family. He could still recall her uncharacteristically frosty words ringing in his head…
If Angel sees you again, he'll kill you, Wesley. This time for real….Don't come back to the hotel. Ever…The prophecy was a fake. Angel was never gonna hurt Connor…. It was all for nothing.
For the longest time, even until now, he was unable to forgive himself for that mistake. For putting Angel through a grief no parent should ever have to go through, for subjecting poor little Connor to that God-awful dimension Quor-toth. For betraying those he loved and siding with a lunatic's reasoning. For being the pathetic failure his…now departed father, always accused him of being.
Of course, guilt slowly converted to bitterness. After complete isolation from the AI team, without so much as a second thought on their part, and living alone like a hermit, only to be constantly tempted by Lilah to join Wolfram & Hart, he did the only thing a pissed-off, lonely, heart-broken man could do…
He made his own rules. And played his own game.
So much had happened to him since tapping into the darker side of his nature, the side he never knew existed…or perhaps, on some level, he always knew, but was too afraid to look. Gone were the rumpled, bookish clothes, replaced by a darker, more practical (and apparently cooler) apparel. Already versed in the fighting arts from his days in the Council, he had kicked up his repertoire to include axes, knives, pressure points, torture tactics (some of which he, with shocking pleasure, extended unto Justine when he held her captive in his closet)…
And guns.
Lots and lots of guns.
Calling in some favors from England, recruiting able-bodied men and women on the street who knew the score, but where powerless to stop it, until now, and shacking up with a skilled weapons designer and expert named Emil, using his powerful mental acumen to get information on everything and everyone in the City of Los Angeles…
And voila. He had himself his own rogue demon hunting operation.
No longer answering to anyone but himself, he ran his operation quite efficiently. Saving quite a few lives, in the process. With every demon, every obstacle, ever situation that required his strength, leadership and intellect, he grew more confident, more daring. Stronger.
Within those few short months, he had more "field training" than any of the Watcher's Council could ever hope for. He had the respect and admiration of those he led. He had a purpose. A mission. Finally, he had everything that, professionally, and to an extent, personally, that he ever wanted.
To an extent.
Although his bed was never cold at night, thanks to Lilah, there was still the empty feeling of longing within him. Of friendship needed. Of understanding.
Something that Lilah, for all her surprisingly warm and sincere attempts, simply couldn't give him. However endearing she may…might have been.
He still wasn't sure what exactly compelled him to return to Angel Investigations. Sure, logic dictated it was the Beast situation, the impending apocalypse, the fact that even Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, for all his otherworldly knowledge and mind-blowing weapons arsenal, couldn't do what a Champion like Angel could do. Or that, maybe in the end, it really was Angel's battle, after all, and all he could do was to help the vampire through it. Why else would he have bothered to fish Angel out of his watery Pacific Ocean prison?
But Wesley could have simply stayed on the sidelines, helping from a distance, as he had done so recently. So, what changed? Why did he have to be here, of all places? Now?
In the same place where he had gotten the destructive news that the Council was gone, that his father had perished, the same place he had stolen baby Connor, the same place he came to blows with Gunn, a man he once took a bullet for, without thought…the same place where Lilah was…
He shook his head, lifting the glasses off of the sore bridge of his nose. Don't go there, Pryce, he told himself. There'll be plenty of time to grieve later…
Later? He snorted to himself. He hadn't even begun to properly mourn for Lilah since the night they found her lifeless body in the hotel, her throat torn open, blood seeping out of her.
Wesley unconsciously ran a finger across his own scar. It seems we had even more in common than I thought, Lilah, he mused. In a morbid sort of way, I guess you could call us soul mates…
He stopped himself right there, frowning. She couldn't have loved him. No, it wasn't possible. She was Lilah Morgan. Cold-hearted, vicious, manipulative. Wolfram & Hart to the core. People like her couldn't love, right? They can't. They don't know how… They couldn't possibly even know what love is.
But then again…neither did he.
And in the back of his mind, he was beginning to wonder if he would ever know…
--(Knock Knock)--
He looked up, blearily from his paper work, sighing. "Come in", he answered, his voice betraying his exhaustion.
Gently, the door gave way to reveal a smiling, yet somewhat timid-looking Darla.
For a moment, Wesley felt his breath hitch. But, God, she was beautiful. Had he not known better, he could've mistaken Darla for an angel fallen from heaven. Which in a way she was, considering the unceremonious way she dropped it the Hotel, literally.
"I don't suppose you'd buy the line that I was selling Girl Scout cookies, would you?", she smiled, a soft chuckle escaping from her lips.
"With that face, I'd wager you'd have sold out a few times over by now", Wesley said, to his own surprise, smiling…somewhat.
"Can I come in?", Darla asked, a bit hesitant.
"I don't see why not", Wesley shrugged. "You're not a vampire anymore. You need no invitation."
She cast her gaze down, the smile gone. Wesley cursed himself or being so stupid for making a remark like that.
"Darla…I-I didn't- -", he began.
"It's all right", Darla shrugged. "It's pretty clear that everyone's still freaked about me being here."
Wes hesitated for a moment. "I don't think that 'freaked' is the operative word."
The blonde stared back at him, her eyebrow arched.
"Or then again, maybe it can be", the ex-Watcher relented.
She sighed, taking a moment before she walked in, closing the door behind her.
Pausing a beat, Wesley said, "H-Have you spoken to Connor yet?"
Darla shook her head. "Not yet. I guess I'm still a bit tired…besides, I'm kinda nervous about that one."
"Nervous?", he said, puzzled. "Why? You saved him and the girl from certain death…he seems to have an obvious affection towards you, which is more than I can say for Angel…and besides, you're his mother."
"Still", Darla shrugged. "There's so much I want to say to him. I just…I'm going to go downstairs in a bit. I'm feeling a little more like my old self." She paused for a moment, considering the statement. "But not in the wanting-to-rip-out-your-throat capacity."
"That's always a positive", Wesley said as he stood and walked around the desk. He leaned casually against it, arms folded over his chest, resting his gaze on Darla.
"Not that I mind…" he trailed off as his eyes wandered up Darla's curvy form up to her angelic face, stopping right at her deep blue eyes. She noticed his stare, and blushed a becoming pink. "I…really don't mind", he corrected himself, clearing his throat. "But, is there some reason why you decided to stop by here?"
Darla gave the ex-Watcher a soft look before stepping a few inches closer. "I…know about what's been going on…with you." She took a beat. "I know it must've been hard receiving the news about your father and the Council like that…and already on top of everything…I thought maybe you'd like to talk about it."
Wesley looked down at the carpeted floor, and then raised his eyes back to the ex-vampire. "I appreciate your concern, Darla, believe me…"
"But you don't want to talk", Darla finished, sighing with disappointment.
"I'm rather busy", Wesley sighed in return. "With all this new information to digest…" He picked up one of the books, thumbing through it mindlessly. "Especially concerning the First Evil…there's very little written about it…and I'm afraid I'm drawing something of a blank on this…entity possessing Cordelia…"
She reached out and gently placed a hand on his arm. "Wesley", she said softly.
"Darla, please, not now", he said, sterner than he had intended. Sighing, he corrected. "I'm…really not in the mood to talk, thank you."
"You need to talk about this", she pressed, gently. She lifted her hand and turned his gaze to meet her eyes. He knew he should've started to bat her hands away, hide behind the walls he had built around himself in what seemed like a lifetime ago...and yet he couldn't do it. He saw the affection, the concern, the care in her eyes and he was nearly breathless. No one had ever looked at him like that. Not even Lilah. He felt a small lump in his throat start to shape.
"You've been through so much in these last few months", she said, biting her lip in empathy for him.
She traced a finger along the scar adorning his neck, a bitter reminder of Justine. Wesley let her touch it, which surprised even himself. That scar was something he never let anyone touch. Even while sleeping with Lilah, he never let her kiss that side of his neck, never let her hands touch it, try as she may. She once mentioned that to him, but he changed the subject rather slyly. Perhaps Lilah really did care for him, but still…that scar was a reminder, of what he had become, of what he lost. It was a reminder of his own pain, and the pain he inadvertedly caused those he loved.
That was a mark that was his and his alone.
And now, he was letting this woman, who he had only seen a few hours earlier, touch that which he never let anyone touch. It frightened him.
"You lost your friends…you lost your hope……your sense of self…………her", she said.
He scrunched his eyes in confusion, before the realization hit him. "Lilah", he said in a sotto voice, the word bringing him a dull pain.
"And now your own father, and the place you once worshipped as the center of your existence…You've lost so much and yet you still haven't lost your will to fight. That in itself is a testament to the kind of man you really are", she smiled gently. "But you bear all that pain, that anger, that bitterness inside you, and it's only gotten heavier to hold."
"It's for me to hold. And me alone", he said, grimly, his voice thickening with emotion.
She shook her head. "Not for you alone. You have your - -"
"Friends? The same ones who abandoned me?", he said, his eyes hardening with bitterness. "The same ones who banished me from their lives without a second thought? The same ones who wouldn't even give me the time of day when I needed comfort most of all?" He frowned. "I'm doing just fine. I'm here, back at the hotel, helping out again…that's all that matters."
"Wesley, you haven't even had time to mourn", Darla reasoned. "You're only human, not some robot for labor. We have to let those emotions out, or they'll keep filling our minds until we explode- -"
Suddenly, she gasped as a red flash of light threw her back against the wall.
"Darla!", Wesley cried, alarmed and far more scared than he had ever been. He rushed to her side, catching her before she could hit the floor, gently cradling her.
Your time has come, Darla! Your meddling shall not be tolerated any longer, a deep voice growled inside her head.
Darla slumped onto the ground, moaning in pain, clutching both sides of her head as the echo of the voice reverberated.
"What is it?", Wesley asked.
" It's 'Cordelia'", Darla rasped out. "She's in my head!"
Did you really think I would let you continue on in this world knowing what you know, the voice sneered.
Back in the alley, Cordelia talked directly to the glowing red amber, an evil glint in her brown eyes. "Do you really think that anything the Powers That Be sent you here with will make a difference?"
HA! That's disappointing. You can tell them that when I send you back to them,the voice roared inside Darla's head.
Struggling to regain her footing, Darla sucked in her breath. "Cut the James Earl Jones-voice-over crap, 'Cordelia'!", she bravely taunted. "I know it's you! And I'm not going anywhere… not until I make sure your sick plans are done for!"
FOOL! You have no idea what you're up against, the voice shouted back, angrily, making Darla wince in pain.
Wesley clutched her closer, his eyes wide in panic. 'Cordelia' had already taken Lilah from him, and now she was intent on taking Darla. He couldn't let that happen.
"You clearly have no comprehension of the true limits of my power!", 'Cordelia' gloated as she grew louder in her rival's head.
"And you…have clearly underestimated mine!", she panted, but with a fury in her eyes. "Disperse!"
A white jolt shot back at 'Cordelia', stunning her. But the Dark Queen recovered. "Is that all you've got, Dear One? Because I'm just warming up", she chuckled darkly before raising her hand and smashing it down hard.
With a scream, the Bringer fell to the ground, unmercifully landing in the path of the wheels of the oncoming bus.
"They're still coming, B!", Faith said as she let loose an arrow right through the head of a horseback-riding Bringer, who fell sloppily over his horse.
"Getting that", Buffy shouted as she lashed out at one of the Bringers who had climbed to the top of the Winebago with a roundhouse kick that knocked it off balance and onto the rapidly moving earth below.
In the Winnebago, Anya yelped as an arrow skidded past her head, just missing her.
"A little more speed would help, you know!", she shouted over at Spike.
"Working on it, Anya! Just keep down and hold on!", he shouted as he slammed his foot down on the acceleration pedal.
"Giles, isn't there some magic trick you know to get us outta here?", Dawn frantically asked, crawling along the floor to the weapons cabinet. "Didn't the Coven give you any sort of extra mojo?"
"I'm afraid I'm all…mojo-ed out, so to speak", Giles told the young girl as he crawled alongside her, shielding her body with his. The Watcher grabbed two crossbows from the cabinet, tossing one to Wood.
"Thanks", he said briefly, before smashing a window of the van, and getting a bird's eye view of one of the Bringers clawing at one of the Potential-filled buses, making a grab for a screaming Amanda.
"Roughing up students? Not on my watch, Blind-Boy", the principal scowled before firing a direct hit into the back of the Bringer. The minion flailed about in pain before stumbling down to meet his fate at the hands, or rather, wheels of the 80-mph-moving schoolbus.
Amanda looked up ahead at her savior, mouthing a relieved "Thank You!" before helping Kennedy and Rona hack away at two Bringers coming up the sides of the bus.
"Nice shot", Willow whistled, impressed.
"All in a day's work", Wood shrugged, reloading his crossbow quickly.
Spike cast the principal a dark eye, before looking back at the road. "Willow, how's that protection mojo going?", he asked.
"Not going", the witch shook her head. "It'll take at least a half-hour before I can work up the energies to shield every car and every person."
"We don't have half an hour, luv!", he said sternly, swerving the van into an oncoming sect of Bringers approaching from the left side, leveling the whole lot. "Either protect us or get us the hell outta here before we're ka-bobbed on those bloody arrows!"
"I can't just poof everyone out of here like that, Spike!", Willow argued. "I'm not that strong, not anymore- -"
"That's a load of bunk, Red, and you know it!", Spike glared up at her. "You and I know that there's a world of power inside you. But you're still scared to cut loose! Too afraid you'll go over the edge again!"
"Said the vampire-with-a-soul who won't even hurt ants anymore!", Xander sniped, shielding Anya, Molly, Vi and Chao-Ahn with his own body from the flying arrows piercing the glass around them.
"Sod off, Harris! I can cut loose when I need to. I bloody well would if I could go up there and not go up in flames like a dried twig!", the vampire shot back. He turned back to Willow. "Come on, Red…focus. There's got to be some new trick up in that pretty little head of yours you can still try. We need you, or we'll all be dead in a few minutes."
Willow looked uncertain, fear sparked in her eyes. "I…I can't…"
"Down!", Giles bellowed as he tackled Willow to the floor in a rush that made the witch see stars. Only a fraction of a second later, a flaming arrow shot crashed though the right hand side of the driver's pit, embedding itself deep in Spike's left hand, still on the wheel.
The vampire howled in agony.
Another red jolt smashed into Darla, the impact nearly making her bounce off the floor.
She gasped in extraordinary pain.
"Someone! Come quick! We need help!", Wesley shouted down the hallway.
He turned back to a panting, pain-racked Darla, clinging to him desperately.
He grabbed her shoulders. "Darla, listen to me. You have to fight her."
"I'm…mnngh…trying!…", she wheezed before shaking her head, yelling, "Malefactoris departem!"
A white bolt smashed into 'Cordelia', this one more powerful than the last. Shaking her head in daze, she shot daggers into her red orb, glowing brighter and redder with each pulsating moment. "Oh, no you don't, you little bitch!", she snarled, sending another attack towards her victim, this one with extra kick.
The jolt hit Darla with full force, making her cry out in raw pain.
"Darla, stay with me", Wesley gently said. "Please, don't stop fighting. Just hold on…"
Her eyes flew open and weakly met his intense, anxious gaze. "Wesley…", she whimpered. "It hurts…"
"I know", Wesley said, his voice gaining strength. "But you have to keep fighting! If we lose you, we lose everything. You're the key to this, Darla. And she knows that. Don't leave us now…" He searched for the words to say, trying to find something, anything that could raise her strength, her spirit, against this lack evil attempting to destroy her. "Think of what your death will do to Connor…to Angel…we…we need you."
He grasped her hand, clutching it tight. "Please, Darla, you have to---"
"What's going on?" familiar voices ring down the corridor. Wesley looked up just as Fred, Lorne and Gunn entered the room. The trio stopped cold in their tracks as they saw Darla laying in Wesley's arms, obviously in great pain, looking like she was half-conscious, or barely alive.
"Wesley, what's wrong with her?", Fred asked, kneeling down at his side.
"It's the thing inside Cordelia", Wesley responded, never tearing his eyes off Darla. "It's attempting to kill her using its magicks."
"Like she did with Willow", Fred realized in horror.
"Well, how do we stop her?", Lorne asked.
"We can't", Wesley said grittily. "This is a battle Darla must fight alone."
"But aren't there any spells we can use?", Gunn asked, rushing to the book shelf. "Any kind of anti-mojo-mojo to keep Queen Bee-yotch outta Darla's head?"
"There's nothing in those books that's strong enough to counter that kind of power", Wesley shook his head.
"Wait!", Fred's eyes lit up with an idea. "Willow banished 'Cordy' from her head with a spell, didn't she? What if we give Darla the same spell to use? Won't that have the same effects?"
Wesley looked up at Fred, eyes wide. "Yes, of course! That might do - -"
"What's going on?", Connor burst the door. Everyone turned to look at the boy, standing there in shock as he gazed at his mother's writhing form in the arms of Wesley.
And they watched as the shock melted away into a dark scowl…
"Spike! Are you okay?", Dawn yelped as she rushed to the vampire's side, grabbing the wounded hand.
"Get down, Dawn!", he ordered her as he yanked the arrow rom his flesh, letting oout a strangled cry as he did.
"Thanks, Giles", Willow panted as she steadied herself off the floor.
"You're quite welcome", he responded before turning to Spike. "You won't be able to drive, now. Get to the back, grab a weapon if you can. Avoid the sun beams."
"No kidding", Spike smirked sarcastically as Dawn propped him up and to the back of the car.
"Can you still fight?", she asked him.
"Like the dogs of hell, L'il Bit", he said with boastful pride. "Hand me a crossbow, and a couple of those throwing knives, huh?"
He positioned himself at the window, peaking out carefully behind the sheet of tinfoil now flapping win the wind through the smashed glass. Dawn tossed him a loaded crossbow, which the vampire took with one swift motion. With his good hand, that is.
"Spike, don't you want me to bandage that?", Dawn asked, worried.
"No thanks, Nibblet. Vampire threshold to pain an' all…. Just keep your head down", he said, peeking the crossbow out the window. His eyes met dead on with a Bringer, armed with a crossbow and taking aim right at Spike himself.
"All right, Bright Eyes", the souled vampire chuckled darkly. "Draw."
In a blink of an eye, said Bringer was dead on the ground, Spike arrow protruding from his chest.
"Bull's-eye, mate", he smirked, quickly reloading the crossbow and finding his next target. Plucking off Bringer after Bringer with glee, reloading, taking aim, firing, repeating. William the Bloody was like a machine when he got into the heat of battle. Powerful. Constant. Indiscriminate. Merciless.
"Hmm, the boy loves his work", Anya noted from her place on the ground next to the other potentials.
"Is there any chance of us getting out of here soon?", Molly asked nervously. "I don't much fancy the idea of being shot with an arrow."
"We don't fancy that idea, either, sweetheart", Xander said. "But Willow's got it covered." He looked over at Willow, still in the driver's cockpit, with Giles taking the wheel. "I hope."
"What did you do to my mother?" Connor asked menacingly, his eyes filled with fear and anger.
"She's being attacked by 'Cordelia', Connor", Fred told him. "Wesley's trying to save her."
"Cordy? But she's not even here", he asked, still not trusting.
"She's doing the same thing to your mother that she did to Willow", Wesley said, not even looking at the boy, still fixated on Darla, clutching her tightly.
At that, Connor's eyes lit up in realization. "She's in her head." He rushed down to Darla's side, opposite Wesley. "Wesley, make this stop."
"I can't interfere", he told the boy sternly. "Darla and Cordelia are far more powerful than I, and there's nothing in the books that can help her. This is a magickal battle, and it can only be fought by magick."
Darla cried out in pain again as another red bolt made her spasm, bucking upwards as her eyes flew wide open in awe and anguish.
Magick, Connor thought, angrily. I knew nothing good could ever come of that junk. And now it's killing my mother…
"We gotta do something, English!", Gunn insisted. "She can't take another hit like that for much longer!"
"The spell, Wesley!", Fred said. "The one Willow used! That might be able to save Darla!"
"No, it would only delay the inevitable", Wesley said. "That spell only repelled 'Cordelia' for a short time."
"Wait a second!", exclaimed Lorne. "What if we get some more juice? There are four of us, plus Darla that makes five! That's a power number in magick, right?"
"Right! We could all channel our energy into Darla and that could give her the boost she needs to beat back 'Cordy'!", Fred said, looking to Wesley.
"But what was the spell?", Wesley asked. "It was uh…vetcshe…vicksay….?"
"Vaporub!", exclaimed Lorne. All heads turned to him, shaking.
"Worth a shot", he shrugged.
"Yeah, if Darla was about to get killed by a demon chest cold, maybe", Gunn smirked.
"Could you focus for a second?", Connor snapped. "My mother's being killed here!"
Darla's hand crept out and clutched her son's hand. Connor's eyes widened.
"Connor…", she rasped out softly, smiling despite the blinding pain.
"Mom", he said almost as softly. He held her hand tightly. "Mom, please…"
"I…love you", she said, coughing as she did.
"Then don't leave me", her son pleaded, a tear trickling down his cheek. "You left me before…don't leave me again. Fight, Mom."
Darla let a sob escape her just before another bolt of light struck into her.
"I…", she managed to gasp. She couldn't finish her sentence.
"Wesley, help her!", Connor desperately turned to the ex-Watcher, his gaze teary-eyed.
Wesley felt a tremendous anger at his helplessness as he willed his mind to work faster, the wheels and gears of his mental powers to grind together. He had to remember that spell. All he knew…all he felt…was that he would not fail Connor again…he wouldn't fail Angel, or his friends…he couldn't fail Darla…
He'd die first.
"Vetche…Vetsche…invadoria…", he mumbled to himself. "Vetsche invadoria…DAMN IT, what was the rest?"
"Disparu!", Fred yelped. "That was it! Vetsche invadoria disparu!"
Everyone's eyes shot to Fred. "I think."
"That was it!", Wesley exclaimed. "Everyone get down here! Now!"
The remaining three AI teammates kneeled in the center of the room, surrounding Wesley, Connor and Darla.
"Everyone hold hands", Wesley instructed them.
"Wes, I don't think singing 'kum-baya' is what the doctor ordered", Gunn said, wryly.
"JUST DO IT!", Wesley roared.
Everyone linked their hands with each other. Lorne to Gunn, Gunn to Fred, Fred to Connor, Connor to Darla, and Darla to Wesley.
"Darla", he said, gently cradling the blonde. "Listen to me…we're lending you our strength…our essence…you need to say this phrase…"
Darla looked like she was fading and out of consciousness more and more.
"Darla, please", Wesley whispered to her ear. "I know it's hard, and I know you're hurting, but you have to remain focused…repeat after me…Vetsche…"
"…V-v….vetsche…", she gasped.
"…Invadoria…"
"Inva-in…vadoria…", she wheezed.
"Disparu…"
"Dis…pa….mgghn" That was all she could manage as she felt herself black out.
"Darla, come on!", Wesley said, shaking her. "Stay with me…don't you quit on me now!"
"Mom!", Connor yelled.
The voice of Cordelia chuckled in her head. That's right, dear. Just give in…you never were a fighter, Darla. Don't even bother starting now…you can't beat me. And once you're gone, it'll only be a matter of time before my sweet Connor, or should I say…your precious little boy, is back under my control…You can't save him. A pause, followed by an evil chuckle. You can't even save yourself- -
Suddenly, Darla shot up to a sitting position. Her eyes were overtaken with a dark, onyx-like glint, and her face filled with fire, determination…and fury.
A mother's fury.
And at the top of her lungs she bellowed:
"Vetsche invadoria disparu!"
A white glow emitted from the group as their combined energies traveled into Darla, who suddenly began to glow a bright yellowish hue .
"It's working!", Wesley said in triumph.
Back in the factory, 'Cordelia' felt the sudden shift in power that had occurred. But before she could counter, she felt herself being thrown all the way back into the wall 60 feet behind her. She cried out as the power of the five had flung her all the way back.
She collided with the wall, head-first, and landed on her knees.
"Oh…crap, that hurt like hell", she muttered dizzily. And then she fell to the ground, unconscious.
Buffy let out a roar as she sliced the neck of a Bringer climbing across the side of the Winnebago. By now, the Slayers were up to their necks in Bringers as the minions of the First Evil began to climb swarm the Winnebago.
Faith ducked the swing of an axe-wielding Bringer nimbly as she landed two cross kicks to its stomach and head, following up with a quick inside spin before she jammed her dagger into its stomach. The Bringer fell down quickly over the side.
"Jeez, they're like freakin' flies on sugar", Faith muttered as she went toe-to-toe with another Bringer.
Buffy landed a well-executed roundhouse-left cross- side kick combo on one of the Bringers while keeping the other at bay with her sword. In one sweeping motion, she grabbed the one in front of her and threw it into the Bringer behind her, giving her the time she needed to decapitate both Bringers with a quick, but strong swipe of her blade.
"There's too many of them", she told Faith, giving her a hand and gutting one of the Bringers coming up from behind her while Faith threw her foe over the side.
"We can't outrun them in this hunk of junk, B", Faith panted as she resumed her attack side-by-side with Buffy. "We need to get these creeps off our backs."
"Easier said than done", the elder Slayer commented dryly. "Or have you not looked behind us?"
Faith turned back to the thundering legion coming up behind the convoy, stretching as far as her eye could see.
"Isn't it about time for Willow to pull a rabbit out of her hat and get us the hell outta here?", Faith looked at Buffy briefly before she turned her attention to slicing and dicing a Bringer coming up to her left.
Willow, can you hear me? Buffy thought aloud, trying to establish a telepathic link with her best friend. How soon can you get us out of here?
I dunnoWillow responded from inside the car. Buffy…I don't know if I can do this…
You can, Buffy thought, resolved as she did battle with a Bringer. I know you can. Because you're Willow. And you can do this.
But Buffy- -
You can do this, Buffy insisted. Don't make me a liar, Will.
Willow smiled. I wouldn't dream of it.
Giles glanced back at Willow, concern filling his eyes. He knew that what they were asking her to do was to stretch the borders of her powers, to possibly go back to that dark place, where she had nearly lost herself completely…and dragged the entire world with her.
"Willow…are you positive that you're up to this?", he asked, his voice heavy with worry.
"Honestly…no", she confessed. "But we're running out of time, and there aren't any options left. I have to do this."
"I'll guide you through as best I can", Giles said, taking one hand off the wheel briefly, squeezing the hand of the witch tightly. "Focus yourself. Ground all your energies to the earth…", the Watcher gently instructed. "Let it flow…deep breaths…"
Willow closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in slowly as Giles had instructed…
And when she opened them again, they were a dark steely black.
Darla collapsed in a heap into Wesley's arms. The ex-Watcher could feel her body quivering with exhaustion. Her eyes were half-closed, a thin film of perspiration lined her forehead, and she looked like she would faint at any moment.
"Darla?…Darla, can you head me?", Wesley asked, not-too-calmly as he gently shook her.
"Mom? Mom, wake up!" Connor implored as he reached down and touched his mother's face.
"Lorne, is she alright?", Fred asked the clairvoyant demon.
Lorne gave a sweeping glance at Darla, his eyes scrunched in analysis. After a beat, he smiled. "She'll be fine, candy-cane. It looks like 'Cordy' exited stage-left outta there."
"Will she come back?", Gunn asked.
Lorne shrugged. "Anything's possible, Charles. Especially with Mommy Meanest pulling the strings."
"We'll have to find a way to cast a protection spell", Wesley said, looking up at Lorne. "I have a feeling that 'Cordelia' won't be stopping her attempts to kill Darla anytime soon."
"Why is she doing this?" Connor asked Wesley, confused. "This isn't like Cordelia."
"Because it's not Cordelia, Connor. You have to remember that", Wesley said, his voice perfectly even. "Whatever's inside her now, it may look like her, sound like her…but this is a being of malevolent power and unsurpassed evil. It's not our Cordelia."
Connor's eyes cast down to his mother's tired features, and then nodded sadly.
Just then, Angel came in through the door, fully showered and changed into his black pants, purple silk shirt, and black duster. And a lopsided grin on his face.
"Hey guys", he announced, cheerily. "Anything I missed?"
At that, all of them turned to the vampire, and incredulous expression written on their faces.
"What?", Angel asked, confused. He missed something….He figured as much.
Amidst the crashes of arrows through shattering glass, the gentle 'thwipp!' of plucked bowstrings, the clashing of swords and stomping above her and the distant screaming of girls, Willow chanted.
"Goddess Hecate hear my plea,
Fill me with your energy,
Grant us passage from harm's way,
Neither human nor demon let go astray,
From this roadway give us depart,
And deliver us to our end's heart,
Deliver us now from the problem arosen,
Unto the Champion, Deliver THE CHOSEN!"
A bright flash of purple light exploded from her, her hair briefly flashing dark for a moment, the slightest hint of veins showing themselves, before the light consumed everything around her…
Up on the roof, Buffy felt her senses warning her. She could feel something happening. And her instincts screamed at her to take cover.
"FAITH! GET DOWN! NOW!", she screamed at her fellow Slayer as she ran at her.
"What the - -", was all a confused Faith could muster out before she felt herself being tackled to the floor of the Winnebago by Buffy.
Just before a blinding flash of purple light engulfed them both….
"So you're saying that 'Cordelia' was here?", Angel scrunched his head.
"Not here, physically", Wesley said as he lifted Darla gently into a chair. "She contacted Darla the same way she contacted you when you were Angelus."
"Humph. Talk about playin' mind games", Gunn chuckled.
Hearing no laughter, and receiving a blank look from Lorne and Fred, he grumbled. "Sure, a brother can't get no props for adding a little humor to the situation? Fine, that's cool."
"What if she comes back?", Connor asked Angel, fear in his eyes apparent. "We don't have any way of protecting Mom."
"I'll manage, baby", the ex-vampire rasped out. "She couldn't get me this time, she won't get me the next."
"We don't know that!", Connor angrily insisted. "You saw her, Mom. She's crazy! She won't stop coming back until she kills you!"
"Then we'll stop her, just like we did this time", Angel assured his son.
" 'We?'", the boy turned an angry look to his father. "Where the hell were you when she was being attacked? Huh? You didn't have any role in helping her!"
Angel visibly flinched at Connor's angry comment.
"Baby, that's not the point", Darla said, reaching out to him, gently squeezing his hand.
"Yes it is!" he insisted. "If he had been here, maybe we would've stopped her sooner! You're never here when you're needed, are you?" He paused for a beat. "You're never here for me when I need you."
"Connor!", Fred scolded, shocked and angry that Connor would still treat his own father like some…animal.
Angel's eyes shone with heavy hurt at that comment. He flashed back to when Holtz leapt through that portal to Quor-toth with his infant son in hand.
"I'm sorry", he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Connor - -", Wesley tried to interject.
"Don't defend him!" the boy spat. Turning back to Angel, he said, "And you're supposed to be a champion? What kind of a champion lets down the people he claims to love?"
"Conner, that's enough!", Darla suddenly sat up, her face set in anger.
All took a step back in surprise, as Darla seemed to have found new strength so quickly.
Connor's eyes went wide with astonishment as his mother glared at him.
"Don't ever talk to your father like that! He's a wonderful man, and he's risked more to help you, me and everyone he loves than you could ever know", she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "He's a champion by the truest definition of the word. And you will show him the respect that he deserves, young man. Because he deserves it."
She glanced up at Angel, a faint smile on her lips. "Every last bit."
Connor frowned, and then lowered his eyes. "Yes, mom", he sighed, defeated.
"Now, don't you have something to say?", Darla arched an eyebrow at him.
Connor scowled. "I am not apologizing."
"YES YOU ARE!", everyone except Angel shouted at him.
Connor sulked as he stood up to face his father. "Fine…Dad…I'm sorry I yelled at you."
Angel smirked. "No, you're not. But at least you said 'I'm sorry.'" He patted his son on the back. "That's good manners."
Despite himself, Connor felt a hint of a smile coming on at his Dad's easy going behavior.
"Wow, Connor apologizing", Gunn whistled. "This day just keeps getting' weirder and weirder."
"Yeah", Fred said. "Well, let's hope that it doesn't get any more weird. I don't know about y'all, but I could do without any more out-of-the-blue-surprises."
No sooner had she said that, than when a loud screech of heavy tires echoed outside the Hyperion, followed by the shattering of glass, twisting of metal and the crashing sound of metal-meets-wall echoing throughout the hotel.
Everyone jumped.
Angel's eyes morphed from concern to alert. "Wes, grab Darla. Take her down with us. If there's any trouble, I want you to take her out the emergency exit near the side of the staircase. The rest of you, follow me."
In a rush, the Fang Gang marched through the hallway, and came barreling down the stairs.
They stopped momentarily at the foot of the stairs at what they saw.
Lorne gasped. "What in the name of NASCAR- -?"
A massive wreckage of overly large vehicles…well, at least they were at one time vehicles…had plowed through the entrance of the hotel, taking most of the front lobby out of commission. The Front door was completely obliterated, as was most of the wall surrounding the entrance. A large white mass of twisted metal lay at the head of the mess, steam and exhaust pouring out of it. Behind it were what appeared to be school buses, tipped over and crushed.
A small coughing sound came from the wreckage and suddenly, the metal was heaved away by a pair of small hands.
Angel was stunned. He didn't think it was possible to survive a crash like that. He was pretty sure nothing could. Well, nothing human, anyway.
Off of the twisted metal, the large sheets peeled back to reveal a dusty, coughing, Faith, who, oblivious for the moment to her new surrounding, lifted another heavy piece of metal back off the wreckage. "B!", she called, worried as she scanned the wreckage for any signs of life. "Buffy! Where are you?"
"Down here", a female groan came from one side of the rubble, before a hand shot up and threw back the wreckage on top of it with ease.
Angel felt his world halt as the rubble gave way to the next sight….a sight that a small part of him began to doubt he'd ever see again.
There, standing in the rubble, was his beloved.
Buffy Summers. The Vampire Slayer.
"You okay?" Faith asked her fellow slayer.
Buffy smiled wryly. "Five by five."
"Hey, don't go stealing my lines, now, B" Faith chuckled.
Buffy's eyes went wide. "Omigod…the others! Dawn! Willow! Xander! Giles!" she began to frantically call out as she tripped though the rubble in search of them.
All eyes suddenly turned to the rubble, where a large churning and lurching of metal began to stir.
"What the hell's goin' on?" Gunn wondered.
"They're here", Darla answered quietly.
Suddenly, the rubble began to slowly and surely levitate itself off of the ground. They all stood in awe as the heavy, seemingly endless rubble floated up gently into the air as if weighing nothing at all. The rubble gave way to reveal a focused Willow, her face extenuating effort, as she held the rubble up over her head.
"Everybody out! MOVE IT!" she barked back to the rest of the people behind her, a purple glow surrounding them.
No sooner had she said that , than had the gaggle of teenage girls, smattered with a few males leading their frightened charges, quickly darted out from under the rubble.
Willow's hands trembled as she thundered her next command:
"Recursum Gaie!"
In a flash, the rubble above had vanished into nowhere.
"Magick is soo cool" Amanda gasped in awe. Dawn could only chuckle at that. She had seen Willow do much more than that. She knew that for the redheaded witch, that was barely a warm-up. Or, at least, it wasn't before she had to go cold-turkey on the magick.
Willow wobbled or a brief instant, before Xander and Buffy rushed forth to catch her.
"Woah…what a rush", Willow shook her head.
"Willow, you okay?" Xander asked, fanning his best friend's face, propping her up against him.
"Yeah…I've gotta start practicing again…I'm getting a little too winded or this", Willow panted back as she pushed herself to her own two feet.
"Will she be okay?", a concerned Molly asked.
"I think she'll be fine", Buffy assured the Slayer-in-Training.
"Uh, guys…where the bananas are we?" a confused Andrew pointed out.
At that, the Sunnydale crew took in their surroundings. They saw in wonder that they were now in a rather large hotel, a beautiful one at that…notwithstanding the giant hole let by the wreckage at the entrance of the hotel.
"Um, excuse me?", Fred's voice called to them. "But I think y'all might've taken a wrong turn or some- - oh, HEY, Willow!" she finished giddily.
The group turned to the seven strangers standing at the base of the stairs.
Both groups stared at each other with some suspicion.
Angel's voice broke the silence. "Buffy."
At that soft, familiar voice, Buffy turned and locked eyes with the one man on Earth that she loved more than herself.
Her eyes went wide, throat dry. She could barely believe it was him. Standing up there, looking as handsome as ever.
It was him.
Her voice was but a breath. "Angel."
Neither of them said anything else. Simply holding the moment.
Seeing everyone else was either too timid, scared or glaring at one another to make a comment, Willow cleared her throat, waving warmly at Fred, before grinning sheepishly and addressing the Fang Gang with the only thing that could come to mind.
"Oh…hey guys! Ummm…did we come at a bad time?"
T B C
