IT'S CLOBBERING TIME! Er…STORY TIME! Ah, whatever, I'm getting in the mood for the upcoming Avengers movie. Anyway, Happy March, people! Special thanks to my Brother from Down Under, Starway Man, for his amazing efforts, and please check out his fics on F F dot net. He rocks! (Really, he does!)
And shout outs to everyone who reviewed, including Lily Emerald, Spyagent001, Nilya2397, teamtiva, Geoff, BloodyTink, Angellufy, Alkeni, philly cheese dude, ashes at midnight, David Fishwick, ShayleeAlf, angelplusbuffyequals4ever, Dark Vizard447, and whoever left those two anonymous reviews. You guys rock!
Hard to believe this fic's approaching it's 9 year anniversary in April. I really meant to write it much faster, but, well…see previous chapters for explanation. (shrug) But as I promised earlier, this fic will be finished, and we're past the halfway mark. The next few chapters should be quite the ride, but don't get too comfortable, because just when you think you've figured out all the answers…I might just change the questions on you!
The following lyrics within the next chapter are brought to you by Green Day and Mariah Carey, and are not the intellectual property of me.
Now sit back, grab a soda, tell your friends, and gather round, because the next chapter of Bring Me To Life begins right about…now!
Bring Me To Life - A Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel Crossover Event
Part 25 – Nightmares Made Flesh
Southern California – Ten Miles Beyond The Los Angeles City Limits
Now
Jasmine sprinted through the shrubs and loose branches of the forest, panting in fear as she continued heading for higher ground amidst the pouring rain.
As she ran, the memories of what she (and the so-called Beastmaster) had done kept passing through her mind. Like the Rain of Fire, and all the people who had died - been sacrificed - that night, so that the Beast could later clear the city of Wolfram & Hart's influence long enough for her to 'save' the world.
Hear the sound of the falling rain
Coming down like an Armageddon flame (Hey!)
The shame
The ones who died without a name
Jasmine could easily remember her false minion directing the Beast to do what it had done, whilst they had been within Cordelia's body. All the chaos and destruction that the huge rocky demon had created, before it had encountered Faith and Angelus, long after the local branch of Wolfram & Hart had been...well, taken care of.
Hear the dogs howling out of key
To a hymn called "Faith and Misery" (Hey!)
And bleed, the company lost the war today
But now the Beast had a new master—her bastard offspring from so long ago. And as her running footsteps echoed within the forest Jasmine acknowledged to herself that she honestly hadn't expected that, hadn't expected the First to have resurrected the damn thing somehow and for the Beast to switch its allegiance this way. Then again, the First had much to offer the rocky menace, not the least of which was revenge on Angel...
Hear the drum pounding out of time
Another protester has crossed the line (Hey!)
To find, the money's on the other side
Truth be told, Jasmine didn't really know where she was headed. She only knew that she had to put distance between herself and the First's new minions. She needed to find a place to hide, at least until this was over.
The moment that she'd heard that horrible stone creature refer to her as a 'vessel,' it had become all too clear to Jasmine what the First had in mind for her. She had cursed herself for her stupidity, her failure to pay attention to the timing of events; she, of all creatures, should have realized that the Awakening was happening at practically the same time as her descent from the Higher Realms.
And what that meant not only for Earth, but for all of Creation.
Now, she had no more time. No defenses, no alternatives. There was only one option: to run. Run and hide until the time for the great cosmic alignment had passed, until all of existence could be safe.
Which was still three weeks away. She had to run and keep running until…
THWIP! THWIP!
Without warning, Jasmine cried out as two large vines shot out and tripped her up, ensnaring her legs as she plummeted to the wet and muddy ground. Before she knew it, even more vines, and the branches of several bending oak trees began wrapping around her, cocooning around her torso as the rain continued to pelt down from the dark skies above.
After a few moments of thrashing, Jasmine managed to use her incredible strength to power out of the vice-like hold the vines had on her, ripping them off of her body. And yet, even more came, stronger and faster and by the bunches.
"Sinev eransne eht lessev!" spoke the voice of a human female from behind a row of trees…a voice that belonged to Amy Madison.
Her eyes were black as the darkest shadows, a look of pure focus on her face as the witch extended her arms, willing to life the vines and plant life binding Jasmine. Amy then yelled, "Hurry up with the mojo, you idiots! I can't keep this up for much longer, you know!"
From the darkness of the woods, came silent chants…incantations from dozens of emerging Bringers, each and every one of them ignoring the pounding rain and holding crystallized orbs that were glowing an ominous red color.
To those that worshipped the dark arts, they were easily recognizable as Chaos Stones; ancient devices that could siphon the very life force from a victim, draining their strength and vitality. Of course, given Jasmine's power, they'd had to be tampered with somewhat in order to produce the maximum effect…something Ethan Rayne had been very instrumental in achieving.
Jasmine cried out in pain as she felt much of her strength vanishing; she felt herself growing weaker with each passing second as the vines continued to hold her fast. From behind her, the Beast finally caught up with its quarry, grinning smugly as it shoved Jasmine down to her knees by the hair, the brute force of the creature's move making her wince in agony.
"Tell me something. Did you really think all this was going to end any other way?" came a taunting voice out of nowhere.
And then, out of thin air, slowly materializing into being…appeared the First Evil, using the physical image of Buffy Summers. A cruel, twisted smile on what was otherwise a beautiful face, unaffected by all the rain coming down from the heavens above.
Jasmine glared helplessly into the First Evil's face. "Damn you," she spat at her nemesis. "Damn you to Hell where you belong!"
The First/Buffy mockingly put a hand over her heart. "Aww. Mommy, why are you saying such mean things to me? Don't you love me anymore?"
"Don't call me that," Jasmine growled, still struggling in the grip of the vines and the Beast even though her powers were fading fast.
The First's laugh was like a cruel slap in Jasmine's face. "Why not? It's what you are, isn't it? After all, if it wasn't for you, I would never have existed. And let's face it, aren't I much cooler than a bunch of amoebas and retarded insect-demon thingies that you went and played mad scientist with?"
Buffy/the First twirled around in a showboating fashion, much like a model on the catwalk in Paris. "You were the one who wanted to shake things up, experiment with the nature of the world. Remember? Well, get a load of me. I'm your greatest creation! Your masterpiece. Your most significant contribution to life as we know it."
"You are garbage!" Jasmine shouted in fury, even as the Beast pulled her hair painfully for that insult. "Nothing but the first mistake I ever made, billions of years ago. An abomination that's brought about nothing but misery, despair and death!"
The First just smirked. "So, I'm guessing that the Mother's Day brunch I'd had planned for us is, like, totally off the table now?"
The original Evil kept smirking as it added, "Oh, please, don't be such a sore loser! I mean, so I played you for a sucker all along, I made you look like a complete joke to everybody. Just consider all this a monument to your inability to get rid of me, like you were planning to. Sweet hallelujah, but can I help it if I'm so much better at the whole deity thing than you are?"
Can I get another amen? (Amen!)
There's a flag wrapped around a score of men (Hey!)
A gag, a plastic bag on a monument
Jasmine knew that there was no hope for her any longer. She was now too weak to fight back, and since none of the white hats knew where she was, it was impossible for the cavalry to swoop in and save her at the last moment. Once her strength was gone completely, the First would invade and kill her - vaporize her consciousness - before taking over her body.
The fallen Power could only hope that what she'd given to Angel and Buffy would be enough, those three golden rings that contained a portion of her essence. It had to be enough, unfortunately.
"I know what you're up to," Jasmine smiled bitterly. "And I'll tell you this—you'll fail. I don't know how, exactly, but you will be stopped from destroying everything. My brothers and sisters will see to it that someone down here will stop you."
"And I suppose it's the great Angel or the almighty Buffy who are going to stop me?" the First laughed dismissively, suddenly morphing into the image of Joyce Summers. "They're just puppets. They always have been. And not very bright ones, at that. I mean, if they had just killed that Cordelia girl when they'd had the chance, we wouldn't even be here right now! But, like all heroes, their bleeding hearts got the better of them...that girl, she's such a disappointment as a daughter..." the First suddenly pretended to be Joyce for some reason Jasmine could not understand, until she realized she was being personally mocked by the First.
The First abruptly morphed into Angelus. "Well, enough chit-chat—in a few moments, I'll be one step closer to the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow. Or should I say…the end of the world as you know it."
Stepping closer to the bound Jasmine, Angelus/the First grinned. "Ironic, isn't it? I was born from out of your body, and now, I'm going back inside to where it all began. It's sort of like...coming home. With a big 'circle of life' theme, minus the stupid cartoon lions and talking pigs."
Despite her dread, Jasmine was able to muster out a defiant, "Go to Hell."
Angelus/the First flashed her an evil smile in response, its eyes glowing crimson red. "You first…mommy dearest."
With that, the First abruptly morphed into its true, deformed, monstrous shape. The demonic, red-eyed, intangible thing that Buffy had seen five years ago, when she had kicked the asses of those Bringers who had come to Sunnydale to get Angel to commit suicide. The thing that Caleb saw just before the First merged with him, whenever it decided to share with the tainted former priest part of its strength.
It was time. The First Evil morphed into a ball of white light that blasted its way through her chest, as Jasmine screamed in pure, undiluted agony.
The final remnants of her strength beginning to wither and die, Jasmine's last thoughts were only of the last hope that all the worlds everywhere had now: a dark-haired undead Champion, and a tiny, blonde Slayer. Angel, Buffy…it's all up to you and yours now…I'm…sorr…
The body of Jasmine slumped to the ground, the vines and tree branches falling away as if by their own accord and the Beast letting go of the woman's hair.
As the First's minions gathered around in the stormy rain, Amy looked at the fallen body warily. "Oh, crap…tell me we didn't overdo it—?"
Suddenly, the fallen Power's mocha-skinned body sat up, wide awake once more, startling Amy.
The Beast suddenly dropped to one knee, as the rest of the Bringers followed suit. "Master," the rocky creature uttered in sheer reverence, bowing its head as the raindrops bounced off its rocky cranium.
As the ex-goddess made it up to her feet, a confused Amy felt the need to say, "Uh, okay…I'm assuming everything's all gone to plan, then. So, how do you…y'know…feel?"
Slowly, 'Jasmine' turned her head towards Amy…revealing a pair of ominously glowing red eyes. Not the eyes of a former force of good, but the eyes of a dark and unholy power.
The eyes of Evil incarnate. The First Evil.
Seig heil to the president gas man
Bombs away is your punishment
Pulverize the Eiffel Towers
Who criticize your government!
The First/Jasmine grinned in a truly terrifying fashion. "Like Momma's got a brand new bag."
Los Angeles – the Hyperion Hotel, Lobby
Now
Lilah's head was ringing from the force that Buffy had used, as the Slayer slammed her against the wall once more by the shoulders.
"Explain," Buffy demanded angrily, her grip just as powerful as Angel's was, a pained Lilah noted. "Now."
"Okay, okay, oww!" Lilah grumbled as she shook the cobwebs off. "Geez, what's with you people and the head-slamming and the anger management issues?"
"That didn't sound like an explanation to me," Buffy sharply retorted, her beautiful face contorted into an angry scowl. "Now talk, while you still have your jaw in place! And believe me, Lola—"
"Lilah," the dead lawyer corrected, managing to sound annoyed even through the painful grip Buffy had on her arms.
"Whatever," Buffy dismissively replied before she resumed her threat. "Believe me, that time's disappearing faster than you think."
"Buffy," Angel called out as he neared her side, placing a stern, yet gentle hand on the tiny blonde warrior's shoulder. "Enough. Let's hear her out already."
His own patience with Lilah was fast vanishing as well, granted. But after hearing this latest version in the series of unending bombshells that had been pelting them all over the last few days, Angel knew that right now, information was at a premium.
Her scowl never altering, Buffy pushed herself off and away from Lilah, impatiently folding her arms across her chest as she and the others awaited the dead woman's next words.
"Geez, honey, no need to get all bent out of shape like that," Lilah muttered as she rubbed the back of her head tenderly. "Like I said, I'm just the messenger."
"Then start messaging, lady, before I decide to show you the very literal meaning of 'kill the messenger,'" Buffy replied menacingly.
"A little late for that," Lilah replied, smugly, before smiling to herself. "Ooh, a pun! Ahh, the cleverness of me."
Just as Buffy was about to stalk over and smash the arrogant lawyer's face in, a cool, yet etched voice called out, "Lilah, enough! Stop wasting our time with your nonsense, and tell us what you know."
All eyes shot to Wesley, whose normally cool blue were smoldering with intensity. While he did his best to hide it, Lilah's presence was growing more painful to him with every moment, like acid being poured into a hole in his heart, and he just wanted it to stop. For her to go away and leave him alone.
Lilah was dead, they were done, and nothing good could come from prolonged contact with her now.
Off his serious expression and words, Lilah's eyes softened for a moment, before she let out a tired sigh. "Fine…um, all right, where was I?"
"The part you said the First Evil was going to erase all of existence in about three weeks?" Fred answered, still shaken by that news.
"Oh. Right. Thanks for the reminder, Skeeter," Lilah snarked, taking a final pot shot at her one-time romantic rival's 'nerd status' within Team Angel.
The sprightly, cute quantum physics whiz scowled in response, reminded yet again why she disliked this woman so much, but she refused to sink to Lilah's level; she wouldn't give her the satisfaction.
Gunn, however, had no problem defending the woman he loved, angrily snapping, "Watch your mouth, Sche-Dead-izade, and get back to the story 'fore I decide to test out how well those stitches holding your head in place really hold up."
Fred flushed at her ex's protective stance for her, feeling somewhat grateful for his defense; yet oddly annoyed that, again, he felt the need to fight her battles for her. We're definitely gonna have to talk about that later. If there is a later, anyway.
"Lilah," Angel warned, finally reaching his limit with his old adversary as he started towards her. "Talk. Now."
Slightly retreating from the advancing vampire, Lilah quickly began talking. "Okay, okay! Right…" Taking a breath, she said, "To understand what I'm talking about, people, we have to go all the way back to the beginning. The origins of the universe itse—"
"Yeah, yeah, we heard that part already," an unimpressed Buffy interrupted coolly.
Lilah was caught off-guard. "You what?"
"That fallen Power who's caused all the recent mayhem—she calls herself Jasmine—she's already given us the whole 'Origin of the Species' spiel," Angel calmly clarified. "The Big Bang, the birth of the Powers, the origin of the First Evil, all of it."
Lilah seemed oddly disappointed to hear that, like the wind was taken right out of her sails. "Well, knock me over with a shovel. A girl gets all dolled up for her big surprise comeback announcement, only to find out everyone's skipped ahead to the last page of the book?"
"Get on with it, Lilah," Darla snapped, growing tired of this woman's games. "What's all this about the upcoming end of the universe in three weeks' time?"
Lilah shrugged. "I'm actually surprised you don't already know, given what you've learned between our non-resident fallen Power and the unemployed cab driver over there…" she pointed to an offended Whistler, who protested "Hey!" before Lilah continued, "The First is going for the ultimate carnival prize, kids. The coming alignment, which will bring about 'The Awakening'?"
Buffy and Angel turned to each other in confusion, before the Slayer looked back at Whistler. "Awakening?"
Off Whistler's uncomfortable body language, Angel's eyes narrowed as he realized that the balance demon hadn't been as entirely forthcoming as they had originally thought.
"Whistler, what the hell is going on?" Angel demanded as his voice grew tight with anger. "What's she talking about?"
Lilah's smirk returned as she realized the situation. "Oh, my. Looks like the messenger hasn't been doing his job very well, has he?"
Lindsey felt his anger rise as he looked accusingly at Whistler. He thought that the demon had been playing it straight with him, and he absolutely hated being lied to. What's the matter with me? Guess I really have been out of the game for too long... "Wait up, you knew about this?"
Ignoring the ex-lawyer, Whistler let out an uneasy sigh as he turned his gaze to Angel and Buffy. "Look, I know what you two are thinking; but I swear, it's not what it looks like—"
"Oh, for your sake, I hope not," Buffy cut him off, as she slowly began advancing on the balance demon, crosshairs practically visible in her angry green eyes. "Because if what the not-so-nice dead lady told us is true, and you've been holding out on us with intel we need to save the world? I really am going to finally rip out your ribcage to use as a hat."
"Yeah. Still, I had my reasons for not going into that part of it, Slayer," Whistler sighed, although he had the smarts to take a step back from the approaching blonde powerhouse. "Look, it wasn't supposed to have come to this. The Awakening would be irrelevant right now, if you'd just let the womb with a view kill that Jasmine thing when she had the chance—"
"Whistler, what is going on?" Buffy snapped, cutting him off savagely. "Talk!"
As the entire room's eyes fell upon him, Whistler blushed slightly as he cleared his throat. "Well, Dead Girl over there is right about a few things. For starters, there is a multiverse out there. Of course, all you guys would be well aware of that, given your experiences over the last couple of years. And Jasmine wasn't blowing smoke up your collective asses with that story about the birth of Time. All that's legit."
Everyone stared as Whistler snorted, "What she probably forgot to mention was that it was the Powers' battle against the First Evil what caused all of those different realities to become fragmented into existence. All different kinds of lifetimes existing in some kind of shattered pattern, like the way a windshield looks when you take a baseball bat to it."
"Meaning?" Giles and Wesley said together at the same time.
Whistler shrugged. "Just about all the people in this lobby? There are over a million different versions of you in existence out there, somewhere." He pointed at Willow. "Thousands of you." Then at Buffy. "Thousands of you." Then at Angel. "Thousands of you, too. Heck, apart from the Vision Girl, there are simply too many versions of you people to count throughout the multiverse."
"But—and here's where things get kinda kooky—there's a legend from way back…a legend about a certain moment in time. One big perfect moment where everyone, and everything…everywhere…is suddenly connected. Like a big, smushed up jigsaw puzzle suddenly fitting together perfectly again."
"L-like the Great Attractor, you mean?" Fred asked, her scientific curiosity piqued.
Willow's eyes lit up in understanding. "Oh, right! That thing where every galaxy in the universe looks as if it's streaming together into one spot, like the, uh, exact center of the universe?"
"Well, sort of; but not exactly," Whistler tried to explain.
"'Sort of, but not exactly.' Contradiction much, Hat Boy?" Gunn snarked.
"Anyway," Whistler restarted his explanation, ignoring Gunn's remark. "That moment is called 'The Awakening.' It's a, uh, flash-point where every single galaxy, every dimension, every living thing right down to the last speck in all of reality is aligned, in perfect balance. For just a few moments, everything everywhere is exactly where it should be."
"So who exactly decides how this 'should be' is defined?" Buffy asked contrarily. Given all the events of her life up until now, it was very hard for her to accept what she was hearing. In the Slayer's view, her mother should never have died from the aneurysm; ditto Tara at the hands of Warren. If what Whistler was saying was true then those two should have been here, right now, during this, the most important battle of her life.
A vague memory tickled Anya's mind, as she recalled an episode of the TV show called Babylon 5 which Xander had once forced her to watch with him. She then had a burst of insight, "Oh, I get it! It's a collective decision from the input of everyone and everything alive. It's kinda like that 'one moment of perfect beauty' thing those stupid misogynistic scriptwriters came up with, isn't it? Probably while they were lounging around and sipping their piña coladas by the pool, sure, but still..."
"It doesn't matter who defines what, Demon Girl, only that the moment of cosmic alignment takes place," Lilah cut in. "When The Awakening happens - which is roughly once every half a billion years, by the way—that confers an opportunity for either something very special, or something completely disastrous to occur."
"How so?" Wesley asked, somehow finding his voice again.
"Why don't you ask your fearless leader over there?" Lilah's eyes ticked to a now-surprised Angel, who was being stared at in shock by everyone in the room.
"Me?" Angel blurted out, bewildered.
At that, Buffy grew even more alert. "Angel, what's she talking about?"
"Damned if I know," Angel answered, equally as perplexed. "I have no idea what the First is planning!"
"Perhaps not consciously," Wesley suggested. "After all, remember how we learned the information about the Beast?"
At that, Lorne turned even greener than normal. "Oh, crimeny crickets; does that mean we have to bring out Angelus to play again?"
The remaining Scoobies and the rest of the Fang Gang shuddered at that idea, many of them all too familiar with Angel's darker half.
Giles visibly tensed at that notion, a torrent of bad memories flooding him at that name. "Angelus? What does he have to do with this?"
"Nothing, and we're going to keep it that way," Angel replied tersely, his eyes resting squarely on Wesley for emphasis. After what had happened last time—and especially now, with Buffy, his son and everyone he ever cared about all under one roof—there was no way that the Champion was going to allow his evil alter ego to emerge from his cage again.
"Damn right," Buffy harshly added, the nightmare of her junior year in high school flickering through her memory like a bad movie. "There's no way in hell we're bringing Angelus back. So you can forget that idea right now, Wes."
"Relax, Legally Blonde," Lilah waved off Buffy's concerns, directing what appeared to be a mischievous - or more like, malicious - gaze at Angel. "We don't need your undead boy toy's better half. Just the toy surprise that a certain ex-PTB left in his noggin."
A beat, before she spoke a Latin word. "Aperio." Which, loosely translated, meant 'reveal.'
Without warning, Angel's head began buzzing with an unbearable static-like sound. He started gasping as he fell to the floor, his eyes glowing a greenish hue and a jumble of ancient, archaic images flashing before his eyes.
Almost immediately, a panicked Buffy was at his side followed by Wesley, as everyone gathered close to the fallen Champion.
"Angel? Angel! What's wrong?" Buffy frantically pleaded, her voice getting louder as she cradled his head in her lap. Yet Angel was unresponsive, only making several unintelligible noises as he twitched and spasmed in his former lover's anxious embrace.
"Good Lord," Giles uttered in shock.
"What the hell?" Lindsey stared in awe.
"Angel!" Kate exclaimed. "Are you okay?"
"Does he look okay?" Buffy snapped offhandedly.
"What's happening to him?" a worried Dawn asked. "Willow?"
"I don't know! I don't know!" an equally scared Willow answered.
"What do we do?" a concerned Lorne asked.
Oz was also more than a little worried about his old friend. "Angel, talk to us!"
"Angel! C'mon, man, stay with us!" Gunn shouted encouragement to his friend and boss.
"Stop it! You're killing him!" a frightened and angry Fred shouted at Lilah, who simply smirked back at her.
"For God's sake, Lilah!" Darla shouted angrily.
"Oh, relax. It should all be over soon," Lilah replied, glancing over towards Whistler; who simply shrugged.
"Dad!" Connor cried out, his familial instincts overriding whatever issues he might have had with Angel at that moment.
"Angel, can you hear me?" Wesley loudly spoke, trying to reach the nearly catatonic vampire. "Come back to us!"
Buffy kept hold of him, her small hands frantically touching his handsome, pained face. Angel, c'mon. Please don't do this. You're too strong to let some stupid spell be the end of you. Please don't leave me again. Not now. Not when we're so close to getting back to where we belong. Not when I need you the most... Angel…come back to me. Please!
With her voice filled to the brim in fear, Buffy shouted one more time. "ANGEL!"
Los Angeles – 1481 Hyperion Avenue, just outside the Hyperion Hotel
Midnight
Xander cursed the limp in his step and the pain in his leg as he hobbled outside the hotel in search of Cordelia, just as the clock heralded the start of the witching hour in the City of Angels.
"Cordy!" Harris called out, constantly wincing in pain as he made it outside the archway of the hotel's entrance. Overhead, the night sky was clouded over; the cool murkiness of incoming rainfall was definitely in the air. "C'mon, Cor, wait up!"
Luckily for his ailing limbs, Xander didn't have to limp too far as he looked to his right, only a few feet away…where Cordelia was leaning against a street lamp, her slender figure slumped in an agony emanating from the depths of her grief-stricken soul.
Xander felt his heart drop into his stomach as he watched the shattered young woman, desperation and gloom enveloping her entire being. "Cordy…"
He had never seen her like this before. Even as bad as last night had been, and this morning, it wasn't anything like this.
The brunette Seer, always so proud and sure of herself, so full of fire and spirit…now looked like she was about to collapse, like a puppet with its strings cut. The way she clutched that pole so tightly, it looked like Cordelia was hanging off the edge of a cliff…and she was losing her grip fast.
And then, as if the Powers felt the need to add more darkness to this grim scenario, the cloudy sky suddenly opened up and it began raining, the water pouring down hard all over the street.
As he neared her, Xander could just barely make out a few soft, anguished words slowly escaping her lips: "No point…useless…"
"Cordy?" Xander spoke up as he came alongside her, putting a gentle yet firm hand on the young woman's shoulder. "Cordelia, it's starting to rain. C'mon, we have to get inside, or, or at least somewhere drier. You don't wanna catch pneumonia, now, do you? That can screw you up big-time." He offered a weak smile. "Not to mention what the rain is gonna do to your hair."
Xander's words only barely registered with the hunched-over Seer still clinging to the street lamp, though. The rain started drenching her thin, tight green tee shirt completely, giving Harris an appreciative view of the black bra strap on her back, the water cascading down Cordelia's slender shoulders like a waterfall.
He was a guy, so Xander couldn't help the thoughts that suddenly rushed through his brain concerning his ex-girlfriend. Still, almost immediately he felt ashamed of said lustful thoughts that were running rampant in his mind, because Harris knew full well that this beautiful yet heartbroken woman before him needed help - not hormones.
And she needed it now. And since they were alone out here on the street, the only one who could help her at the moment…was him.
"Screw up…" Cordelia's strangled voice caught Xander's attention again, followed by a small, bitter and hollow laugh. "Story of my life, isn't it? That's all I've ever done. Time and time again. Better than anyone. Screw up."
Xander began shaking his head. "No, Cordy, you're not—"
"You of all people know what I was like as a kid," the Seer cut him off, as if he hadn't said a thing. "Right from the start, I was bad.Like, Veruca Salt in 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' bad. If my parents didn't buy me whatever I wanted, I'd scream and cry and bawl my lungs out, no matter how hard they tried to get me to knock it off. I even told them I hated them once, when they didn't buy me that Malibu Barbie dream house set for Christmas. And remember when I made fun of Willow when she cried, that day she lost that spelling bee in kindergarten?"
It was a memory Xander couldn't forget, yet preferred not to examine too closely right now. Up until then, he and Willow and Jesse and Cordelia had played together as the best of friends. But when he'd defended Willow against her that day, it had ignited the young Cordelia's wrath; the five-year-old Xander had resorted to throwing dirt on her brand-new dress after all the mean words she'd said to him, making the Chase girl cry and earning her long-lasting enmity.
Until one insane day after they'd been trapped in Buffy's basement, during their junior year of high school.
"Yeah," was Xander's soft reply to Cordelia's question. "I remember…"
"And don't even get me started on what I was like in high school," Cordelia went on, staring despondently at the ground, her face wet with rain and the shine of tears beginning to form. "Clothes, friends, boyfriends…deep down, they all meant nothing. I used them, and when I was done with them, I'd just throw them away like trash. God, I was such a bitch! I never cared about anything or anyone but myself, and getting out of that hellhole of a town. Before I came here, before I started working with Angel and everyone else, the only time I ever thought I could be more was…"
Cordelia swallowed the bitter lump in her throat as her voice began to waver. "…was when I was with you, Xander."
Harris felt his eyes begin to tingle, and he had to swallow hard at the overwhelming emotion that those words were causing him, awash in a sea of memories and kisses from a high school romance that had ended in the worst way imaginable. My God…Cordy…
"But I messed that up, too," the Chase woman muttered miserably, sliding slightly down the pole as she lost herself in her misery.
"What? No, you didn't! That's crazy talk," Xander said immediately. "I was the one who kissed Willow, remember?"
"I could have forgiven you. Could have taken you back. Not straightaway after the rebar, sure; but I saw the way you kept looking at me that spring, Xander, and I wasn't blind to how you were acting around Wesley after I showed my interest in him," Cordelia said lifelessly. "Ever wondered what our lives would have been like, if I'd accepted that offer to go with you on that road trip...instead of cutting all ties completely?"
"Well, uh..." Xander stammered, not sure what to say.
"It could have led to...something. Maybe. But instead, I left. Naïve idiot that I was, I thought that I could reinvent myself in a new place, chase a new dream, create a new beginning for myself as an actress…something I sucked at so badly, that I couldn't even get my agent to give me a call back on a lousy TV commercial. Not even those people at community theatre wanted me back after that first night's performance." A bitter snort escaped her. "Ask Angel and Wes, they were there. And Doyle?"
Cordelia bit her lip hard to keep from crying like a baby at the memory of her half-Irish half-Brachen demon sweetheart, his sloppy grin, his goofy dress sense, and his amazingly big heart. "God help me, but I treated him like crap until I realized just how amazing he really was. I didn't even see what kind of future I could have had with him, until it was too late…he passed his gift on to me, his most precious possession, and what did I do with it?"
The tears began falling again. "Let myself be seduced by it, so much so that I was willing to do almost anything to keep it. I let myself be turned into a pawn, a sap who endangered the lives of my real family…not to mention the whole world. It wasn't enough to screw up my own life; I had to screw up everyone else's as well! That's what it means to be Cordelia Chase."
Xander began to protest. "No, Cordy, that's not—"
"And now I find out that - that I'm the last one," the Seer interrupted him, Lilah's cruel words echoing in her brain. "If what Lilah said is true…and I think we both believe her, right? Then all I am is just a, a cosmic joke. God's garbage. Jasmine's used-up pawn here, and a pointless extra everywhere else. I swear to God, Xander, I wish I'd died or ended up in a coma like all those other Cordelia's out there—"
By this point, Harris had heard all of this that he could take. Grabbing her shoulders and turning her to face him, his bruised face filled with emotion, Xander said, "Hey! Don't you say that. Don't you ever say that again! You hear me? You are not worthless, Cordy, and this world is not better off without you! Damn it, Cor, come on! You're not just gonna let some evil bitch in Prada mess with your head like this, are you? Or did you go all soft playing secretary to Dead Boy here in Tinseltown?"
Harris was trying to provoke her, get a rise out of her, get…something out of his ex-girlfriend that could snap her out of the complete and utter despair which seemed to engulf her like a mire of quicksand. But the forlorn young woman that stared back at him now was a far cry from that brunette spitfire whom he'd once fallen in love with.
Xander's glare melted into concern, the rain making his face slick and his vision blurry. "Cordy, please…we need you."
She shook her head, her spirit in shambles. "For what? All that I was ever meant for...I've accomplished. Failed actress. Vision Girl. Patsy. What else is there for me to do now? Tell me that, Xander. What's Cordelia Chase supposed to accomplish now?"
Cordelia suddenly pushed him away, staggering slowly, aimlessly onto the street, leaving Xander confused as to what she was doing…
…until the bright lights and the honking horn of an oncoming, fast-moving tow truck caught his attention, only thirty feet away from the dazed and broken Seer.
Twenty feet. Fifteen…
Xander had no time to process how Cordelia was simply standing there in the middle of the road, with a hopeless look in those beautiful hazel eyes of hers, almost welcoming the imminent death the truck would certainly bring. Or how his leg flared with pain from each movement. Or even hear his own scream…
"CORDY!"
…he only knew that he had to move fast. And despite how he'd almost been beaten to death by Skip not so long ago, Xander somehow managed to do just that - knocking Cordelia out of the way of the truck, which sped by in a blur of hot air and gas fumes as the former couple landed on the hard asphalt on the other side of the road.
Harris barely had time to catch his breath, before Cordelia began squirming furiously underneath him, struggling and slapping at him. "What are you doing? Get off of me, Xander! GET OFF!"
Angrily grabbing her wrists, Xander yanked her forcefully up until she was in a sitting position. "What am I doing? What are you doing? Do you have a death wish or something? You could have died just now!"
"Don't you get it? I WANT TO!" Cordelia screamed, shaking as she did so. "I can't take this anymore! I can't take it! I can't! It hurts too much!"
"I know," Xander said, trying to sympathize as Cordelia abruptly yanked him up to his feet. She then hauled him off the street onto the other side of Hyperion Avenue as, despite no longer caring if she lived or died, something within her—some small spark of primal female instinct—didn't want Xander Harris to die thanks to her actions.
"Cordy, we talked about this before, I understand—"
"No, you don't!" Cordelia screamed, tears and rain making her mascara run. And even then, never had Xander ever seen a more beautiful woman in his life.
"You can't tell me you know what it feels like! You didn't screw up so badly that other people died because of it! You didn't let your friends down the way I did, you didn't hurt so many people because you were so selfish and stupid as to do anything to hold onto something that was killing you just because you wanted to feel special! You haven't screwed up over and over and over again the way I did. So, don't tell me that you know, because you don't, Harris! You can't know! You can't!"
"So, what, the answer's killing yourself?" Xander shouted incredulously. "Causing everyone else even more pain? Buffy and Darla nearly died trying to get that Jasmine thing out of you. Skip almost killed me when he decided to murder you! So what's that mean, Cordy—everything we did, everything we went through, it was all for nothing? We were just wasting our time trying to save you? Well, sorry, but I ain't buying that one! For God's sake, did you ever stop and consider what killing yourself would do to your friends? To the people who care about you?"
However much Harris tried to suppress it, the thought refused to be silenced. Did she consider what committing suicide would do to me?
"Duh! It's called being unable to live with what's happened; haven't you been paying attention?" Cordelia screamed at him through the pouring rain, as lightning briefly lit up the sky.
Shaking his head Harris replied, "No. No, I don't accept that. We can fix this, Cordelia. You. Me. All of us. There's still time—"
"Time? Time for what? For who, Xander?" Cordy snapped, angry tears coming down her face as thunder boomed overhead. "Lilah? Manny? Maybe that nice Svear family that I remember slaughtering with my own two hands? Or how about all the people who ended up dead over the last three weeks because of me? I even made your life pure hell for six months, remember? All I've ever done is cause other people pain. That's all I'm good for, so I just want it to stop. I just…I just want to go to sleep, and never wake up again. Turn out the lights for good. I just...I just wanna die."
Cordelia began to sob brokenly, pleading eyes beseeching the injured young man desperately holding onto her. "Xander, please…why won't you let me just lie down and die?"
Stunned, Xander was literally lost for words as he realized just how serious Cordelia was about that. Just how much she was hurting right now. That lost, empty look in her eyes left no doubts about what she wanted. And the truth was, someone else in his position might have been tempted to let her go...
After all, was it better to end such suffering than to let it continue, every day more hellish than the next, being constantly consumed by one's own unending guilt and torment? What kind of a life could she have, if Angel and her friends had to put Cordelia on suicide watch for the rest of her days? What if there was nothing anyone could do but helplessly watch the Seer go mad from the anguish of perceived weakness, and unending remorse?
But Xander just couldn't do it. He couldn't let Cordelia kill herself, anymore than he could have stood aside and let Willow destroy the world ten months ago. He still cared too much about his high school girlfriend, she still meant too much for him to lose her to her own demons now.
Especially if what that Lilah Morgan person had said was true, and she was indeed the last living and self-aware Cordelia Chase left in all the multiverse; because that meant that this Cordelia (above and beyond all others) needed to be cared for, protected…loved.
For a moment, Xander was reminded of the lyrics from an old Mariah Carey song he heard as a kid:
Even though I try, I can't let go
Something in your eyes captured my soul
And every night I see you in my dreams,
You're all I know, I can't let go…
Harris tenderly brushed Cordelia's rain-slick hair back from her face, gently cupping her cheek. For a moment he didn't know what to say, but then it was as if the words spilled out of his mouth of their own volition.
"Never gonna happen. Ever," Xander said softly, a watery smile on his lips. "Cordy, I'm begging you, listen to me…we still need you. This thing happening with the First and Jasmine—we can't save the world without you. I know that when we were together, I wasn't always there for you the way I should have been; but I'm here now. And truth is I don't know what the future holds, except for this—I'm not giving up on you. So please…don't give up on yourself." He remembered what Dawn told him were Buffy's final words to her before she died to save the world…words he hoped could reach the distraught beauty before him. "Live. For me. Please?"
Cordelia's eyes shone in the street lights, even as the darkness of the night's stormy weather hovered all around them. "It hurts, Xander…" she croaked weakly.
Harris brought her closer to him, bringing Cordelia's head to rest against the crook of his neck. "I know," he whispered into her ear as he gently rocked her trembling form. "I know. But it'll get better. I promise you, it gets better. And I'm not going anywhere until it does. I'm here, Cordy…I'm here."
And as the rain poured down upon the former Zeppo and the former princess, both of them ignoring the curious looks from people passing by in their cars, Cordelia's desperate and miserable sobs were released in a cathartic wave as she wrapped her arms around Xander's neck, holding onto him as if she had fallen overboard into a freezing ocean...and he was the only thing that was keeping her from drowning.
The only thing keeping her alive.
Los Angeles – the Hyperion Hotel lobby
A few minutes previously
As the Chosen One turned her gaze from Angel's anguished face, the undead hero still convulsing and twitching on the floor, the fire in Buffy's green eyes grew to inferno-like levels as she zeroed her hunter-like gaze upon Lilah.
In a flash, Buffy was slamming the Morgan woman back against the wall by the throat, the blonde's teeth bared in a snarl that would have given even a hunting lioness pause.
"Make it stop," Buffy growled, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. "Now!"
Wincing as Buffy's grip tightened around her throat, Lilah rasped out, "Again with the throat thing—urrk!" Steadying herself as Buffy relaxed her grip enough for her to talk properly, the attorney added, "Sorry, sweetie. But once the spell's started, there's no way to stop it."
"If he dies," Buffy squeezed on the dead lawyer's throat a little tighter for emphasis. "You die. Again."
Coughing once, Lilah managed to answer. "Relax…your dreamboat's not in any danger…this is just a little history lesson…"
Moments later, Angel's painful spasms stopped, the vampire detective rolling over onto his stomach, wobbling as he struggled to get vertical.
"All of you, stand back and give him some room," Wesley barked out, prompting everyone to back away as Angel staggered to his feet, wobbling almost drunkenly.
"Angel?" a relieved Buffy gasped as she tossed Lilah aside and ran over to him, allowing the Champion to lean on her for support. "Angel, are you okay?"
An astonished look—one with a sense of amazing clarity—dawned upon his handsome face. "I can see it."
Buffy frowned in confusion. "See what?"
At that moment, Angel suddenly bolted from her, grabbing a nearby black marker, then scrambling to a nearby wall, carelessly shoving a desk filled with books aside with one hand, the contents tumbling to the floor. Then the Champion began furiously scribbling and drawing strange, ancient-looking glyphs, and a diagram of something that appeared to look like the solar system. Several of them, in fact; all with an uncanny speed and artistic accuracy.
The others all stood in awe, watching in confusion as Angel painted the walls of the Hyperion with what could only be described as a tapestry...one that currently existed only in his head.
"What's he doing?" a stunned Connor asked, watching his father in concern.
"If you figure it out before I do, clue me in," Buffy muttered as she stared, equally mystified, at Angel's scrawling, which appeared to take the shape of several constellations. Surrounded by an odd, ancient-looking language.
"He's mapping it out," Fred uttered in realization, which drew most eyes to her. Flushed under the attention, Fred hastily explained. "Oh, uh, sometimes, I-I have equations in my head, and, well, paper's not enough to fit all of it in, so I…kinda use the walls."
"Guess that pretty much explains why your room looked like a science grad student's notebook for the first few months you were here, doesn't it, Lamb Chop?" Lorne prompted.
Fred laughed nervously. "I guess I have a lot of thoughts."
Moments later, Angel managed to finish an awe-inspiring sight: a diagram of dimensions and constellations, centered around their own, Earth.
Buffy swallowed, taking in the large drawings in front of her. "That's one hell of a thought."
Giles immediately focused on the strange glyphs around the enormous diagram that Angel had drawn. "I-I-I can't say that I've ever seen a language like that before."
"Neither can I," Wesley frowned.
"That's 'cause you ain't supposed to recognize it," Whistler spoke up, walking closer to the diagram. "This is what's colloquially known as the 'Language of the Eternals.' First ever mother tongue, people; the original, from which Enochian and all the other ancient languages evolved. Created by the Powers That Be after their creation of the Earth. Lost to the record books and minds of man…but fortunately, being their messenger 'n all, the Powers have it hardwired into my brain."
"So, make with the translation, already!" Buffy snapped, still peeved at Whistler for holding out on them. "We're not exactly all with oodles of time to burn."
After sighing in annoyance, Whistler began his translation, "'In the time of the Awakening, when all becomes one, the Eye shall awaken, and the Light shall come…"
"…but if in its presence Evil stands," Angel cut in, the words as clear as day to him, his eyes intense, his face a portrait of worry. "…then darkness shall swallow both time and land."
His eyes lit up with understanding and shock. "Oh my God. I know what The First is planning to do now..."
"Something tells me it isn't about making more evil limericks, is it?" Buffy nervously joked.
"The Eye of Creation," Angel responded, turning to Buffy in grim seriousness. "It's planning to open it."
"Eye of Creation? The original singularity through which the Powers emerged?" Giles blurted out in surprise, recalling that part of the story which Angel, Buffy and Cordelia had recently told the group.
"You got it, librarian," Lilah replied, her smirk still present but her tone more serious. "The Source of All Life. The Genesis of the Universe. The Great Giver. And with the entire multiverse aligning in three weeks and change, that's the one time in, oh, about a few billion lifetimes, that the Eye of Creation will have the chance to open up again, connecting all of the different realities and organisms at once."
"How?" Willow asked, intrigued.
"According to my info, should the Eye ever open up again, it'd produce something the Powers call the Flame of Life," Whistler explained. "It's a light so pure, not to mention so powerful, that it'd pierce the very fabric of reality—reaching literally everywhere at the same moment. Bottom line, it's the original light of Creation; kinda like what was in that Indiana Jones movie way back when, but the real deal instead of Hollywood special effects. By definition, it embodies the sacred, the holy…everything good."
The way he said it sent a shiver down Angel's spine. Just the idea of something so pure and…holy, made him feel unworthy to even be in the presence of its words. There was only one thing that could ever match that feeling for him…and she was standing there, just a few feet from him with a confused look on her face.
"Okay, so, flame pretty. I get that," Buffy frowned. "But how does that help the First?"
"Because, like with all things, in the wrong hands...even the purest thing can be corrupted," Lilah replied. "There are all sorts of theories of what can happen if the light is unleashed by a pure and worthy soul, none of which are important right now. But if it's unleashed by something as twisted as, say, the source of all Evil? The power of the Eye could destroy everything. This world, other worlds, all of the realities comprising the Multiverse…everything."
"Fortunately, the Powers realized that," Whistler interjected. "So, they put safeguards around the Eye. Built a temple around it and hid it in a pocket dimension on this planet, one only accessible at the time of the Awakening by a living Power. Or, at least, the body of one."
Buffy turned to Angel in shock as the First's plan now became transparent to her. "Jasmine," she realized. "That's why the First has been jonesing for her body so badly."
"It needs the key to the Eye," Angel elaborated, his face still troubled. "And with its essence within Jasmine's body…"
"…it could access that pocket dimension to activate the Eye of Creation when the Alignment takes place," a stunned Fred deduced.
"Yep. And then we can kiss all of existence goodbye," Whistler finished up sourly.
At that, Buffy whirled on him, her eyes crackling in anger. "You knew about this. All along! And you didn't tell us, why?"
"Because I had my orders on the subject, gorgeous," Whistler shrugged. "I already told you, it wasn't supposed to come to this! Look, the Powers have a lot of secrets, and this was the biggest one; like it or not, there are some things that I can only discuss with you people on a need to know basis."
"Well, guess what, Frumple-stilskin—with the End of All Time coming up in a couple of days? I'm thinking we definitely need to freakin' know!" Buffy snapped angrily.
"Geez, dial it down a notch, will you? I'm on your side here!" Whistler tried to placate her.
At that, Angel cut in, just as angry, "In that case, Whistler, quit stalling for time and just tell us where the Keystone is, before I tear it out of you!"
Buffy turned quizzical eyes to Angel. "Keystone?"
Angel let out a strained sound from his lips, realizing he was going to have to explain and wanting instead to get more answers from the friendly neighborhood balance demon. "That stuff Jasmine put into my head about the Eye…it's not as simple as just showing up at the right time and place to awaken it. It needs to be activated by something that the Powers call the Keystone. Long, shiny crystal, forged from the Flame of Life itself just after the birth of the universe. It's the only thing that can re-activate the singularity. Without it, no dice."
"So why not just destroy it? End the goddamn threat potential?" Gunn wanted to know.
"No can do, Denzel. The Keystone is impossible to destroy," Lilah smirked at him. "Real annoying, isn't it?"
An idea flickered in Buffy's mind. "Wait…this Flame of Life thing-y. It's supposed to be some kinda ultimate super-power, right? So, if we can somehow use it against the First…would that be enough to destroy it?"
"The Senior Partners seem to think so," Lilah answered, with a shrug. "The Flame of Life is the most powerful known force in all the realities, Slayer. If harnessed correctly as a weapon, nothing could stand against it. Not even the First Evil."
"And so, that begs the question concerning this pocket dimension…where is it?" Wesley asked.
A beat. "Sunnydale. Smack dab on top of the Hellmouth," Lilah smugly declared as she eyed Buffy.
The blonde Slayer only gave a dry, resigned laugh. "Of course it is. Because my life just wouldn't have it any other way."
Oz understood it now. "So it's a race, then."
"Bingo, ah...Dog Boy, wasn't it?" Lilah snarked at Oz, earning herself a glare from Willow. "Either get to the Eye of Creation before the First does…or watch as the First Evil destroys all life as you know it."
A sense of foreboding purpose fell upon the heroes in the Hyperion Hotel at those words. So, this was finally it. Their greatest task, their biggest mission ever—stop the First, or say goodbye to the entire cosmos.
Andrew looked floored. "Wow," he breathed, lost in complete geek mode. "This just got epic. Like…'Empire Strikes Back' epic."
Off Buffy's annoyed glace, Anya nodded…and once again, smacked Andrew upside the head.
"Ow! Quit it! Why does everyone keep doing that?" he muttered.
"Okay, so where is this key crystal thingamajig?" Buffy tersely asked Whistler.
Whistler sheepishly scratched his head. "Sorry, kid, but that I don't know. For real this time. The Keystone was hidden underneath a Mayan temple for the last few thousand years, but when I checked on it before coming here, it was gone."
"Gone?" Willow blurted out. "This thing is the key to acquiring what's supposed to be the most powerful weapon in existence, and you lost it?"
I don't believe this! Buffy was livid. "If you and the Powers were any more useless, you'd be Algebra!"
I knew it! Dawn thought to herself in triumph, as that branch of mathematics was her least favorite subject to study.
"Not lost," Lilah drew their attention, as she walked to the doorway and picked up the small black suitcase that she had brought with her. "Just…repossessed."
With that, she tossed the case to Angel, who swiftly caught it in midair before opening it…revealing a yellowish, shiny crystal inside.
As the others gathered around in awe, Lorne asked, "Whoa…is that what I think it is?"
"Yup," Lilah nodded in satisfaction. "Say hello to the Keystone, guys and gals. A few archaeologists found it in Peru last year, and sold it to the local branch of Wolfram & Hart at a pretty penny. Of course, we've got plenty of pennies left where those came from."
Ignoring the hopeful faces of his friends and allies, Angel's brown eyes filled with suspicion as he looked at Lilah. "And you're just giving it to us? Why? What's the catch?"
"The end of the world is the catch, Ace," Lilah retorted with a snort. "If the First gets what it wants, then the Senior Partners will be erased from existence along with everything else. Including your know-it-all Powers That Be. If it wins, we all lose. This is just my bosses' way of trying to protect themselves, covering their own asses."
Handing the briefcase off to Lorne Angel approached Lilah, sensing there was more to this than what she was telling. "Okay, that's putting a real nice PR spin on it. Kinda masterful, really," he smoothly replied. Then Angel's face hardened, "Now, cut the crap and tell me what they're really planning—before I make sure that your next costume at your evil Halloween corporate party is a damn good imitation of the Headless Horseman."
"Violence against a helpless woman? Now, really, Angel, what kind of example is that to set for your son?" Lilah snarked, before her eyes widened in fear at Angel's fast approaching figure. "Okay, okay! Geez, get a sense of humor…you know by now about the Watchers Council attacks, right?"
Wesley's eyes turned away for a moment, reminded of his father's recent demise. Again, Darla felt her heart move as she felt the need to comfort him.
The soft look in Darla's eyes did not escape Lilah, who felt a flare of jealousy spike within her at the way the former vampire was eyeing her beloved Wesley.
But stifling that feeling, Ms. Morgan continued, "Well, they weren't the only ones targeted. There've also been attacks on our operations all across the globe. LA, Rome, Paris, Madrid, New York, Chicago, Belize, Johannesburg, Tokyo, New Delhi, Sydney, you name it. Office buildings firebombed, high-ranking personnel having their throats slit in their sleep, lawyers being murdered on their way home from work, field operatives ambushed, even employees out on sick leave dropping like flies. All thanks to the First and its minions. Most of the company's resources in this realm have been severely compromised, and our connections to the Senior Partners have been cut off, since the highest ranking of our…instruments…have gone into hiding, for their own safety."
Buffy smirked as she realized what Lilah was saying. "They're hunting you down. The First and all its lackeys, especially the Bringers."
"Hunt-ed, sweetie. Your little possessed friend Cordelia managed to finish the job," Lilah corrected. "Right now, what's left of Wolfram & Hart in this plane is hanging on by a thread. This isn't about right or wrong anymore; it's about survival. The Senior Partners have concluded that the only way to ensure their survival…lies in helping the vaunted Champion for the Powers and arguably the greatest Slayer in recorded history defeat the First, once and for all. And that's exactly why I'm here."
Looking at Angel, she straightened up. "I've been authorized to propose to you…an alliance."
Angel regarded her skeptically. "An alliance. With Wolfram & Hart?"
"No, with Bert and Ernie," Lilah smartly retorted. "Of course, with Wolfram & Hart! We still have several thousand commando squads ready for combat—thick as a brick in the head of course, but still capable of following orders—and that doesn't even scratch the surface of what the Senior Partners can still bring to the table. You, your Slayer, your little friends and our resources…together, we might just have what it takes to bring the First Evil down for the count, and make sure it stays down."
After a beat of silence from the others, Lorne muttered, "I hate to say it, but the dead lady makes a lot of sense. I mean, it's not exactly like we're bursting with firepower here. A little help could go a long way, Angel-cake."
As much as Buffy was loathe to admit it, she was inclined to side with Lorne on this one. They were running out of time—literally—and the coming battle wasn't going to get any easier.
To paraphrase, better the devil you know than the devil that could stomp you into the ground and grind you into pasty pieces.
"I have a question," Darla spoke up, not taking her eyes off Lilah. "What's in it for you? What does Wolfram & Hart want in return?"
"Short term, to save our own asses and this world which the Partners are planning to take over one day," Lilah replied honestly. "And as for the long term…" A coy smile towards Angel. "Well, we can discuss that afterwards."
"No. I meant you, personally, Lilah," Darla riposted, her tone suspicious. "What were you offered to get Angel to agree to all this? The Senior Partners must have promised you something - we both know how that's the way they work. So what did they offer you? To resurrect you the way I was, perhaps? Power? Maybe a new Gucci bag?"
"What my bosses ultimately have in mind for me is none of your business, Working Girl—" Lilah started to say.
"DON'T call her that!" Connor abruptly snarled, looking as if he wanted to charge forward and tear the lawyer's head off just like his father before him, before Dawn grabbed hold of his hand, and silently persuaded him to cool it.
"Whatever, Steven," Lilah said to the infuriated Miracle Child scornfully before she looked back at Darla. "But as I said, that's none of your business."
Angel had heard enough, by this point. True, they could use help; he was the first to admit that. But he wasn't desperate enough to make a deal with the likes of Wolfram & Hart, not even to stop the First Evil. That would be like cutting off his nose to spite his face.
"All right, your one minute is now officially up. So why don't you align your ass with my front door, and walk out the way you came?" Angel curtly replied. "Tell your masters that I'd rather take my chances riding into battle with Bert and Ernie before I ever side with them."
"Angel," Buffy cut in, her tone hesitant in a way that made Angel wary. "Hold on a minute…"
While surprised, Angel saw with clarity what the small blonde beauty was thinking. "Buffy, don't even think about it! These people—"
"—are the scum of the earth, yeah, I get that," she interrupted. "But we've got to think about this for a second."
"Why?" Anya finally spoke up again, as everyone looked at her.
"What do you mean?" Andrew asked from his place alongside.
"I mean, why? Buffy, you're not seriously considering an alliance with the Wolf, Ram and Hart, are you? Geez, I thought you knew how making deals with the Devil never works out the way you think it will. For Yekk's sake, I certainly do—eleven hundred years of experience talking here," the former vengeance demon replied.
"This is different," Buffy told her impatiently.
"Really? Have you forgotten what happened in that damned frat house, a few months ago?" Anya demanded, drawing looks of confusion from many of those present in the hotel lobby. "I thought I was going to have to die in order to undo what I did that night, but instead, D'hoffryn killed my best friend in my place to resurrect those useless jerks! And if you think that was bad? Getting into bed with these Senior Partner guys will be a million times worse!"
Grimacing, Angel grabbed Buffy's arm and pulled her aside from the group for a minute, the former lovers speaking in hushed whispers.
"Listen to me," Angel whispered harshly. "Your friend is absolutely right about Wolfram & Hart. We can't trust them!"
"I don't trust them," Buffy told him quietly. "But we have to think about the bigger picture here, right? Jasmine's still missing, the First just recruited a big-time player to its side in Horn-Head, and apocalypse season just developed a very short time limit. I say we need all the help we can get at this point…no matter the source."
"You don't know Wolfram & Hart like I do, Buffy," Angel hissed. "They've got some kind of angle on this. It's what they do. Trust me, whatever help Wolfram & Hart offers always comes with a price. And that price is always too costly in the end."
Buffy raised an eyebrow. "More costly than the end of the universe?"
Angel folded his arms in steadfast resolve. "I'd rather not find out. We keep the crystal, but I'm tossing her ass out of here."
The Summers woman could barely believe what she was hearing. "You'd really risk everyone's lives just because of your moral principles?"
"It's not that simple," Angel argued.
"Looks that way to me," Buffy countered.
"I'm telling you, they're up to something," the dark-haired vampire insisted.
"And I'm telling you that I believe you, but so what?" Buffy retorted in an angry whisper. "Whatever it is they've got up their sleeve, we can deal with it later. But if we don't act soon, odds are there won't be a later for any of us!"
Yet, a stubborn Angel refused to concede. "If you want to put your friends and family at Wolfram & Hart's mercy, then fine, maybe you can live with the consequences. But I'm not letting these bastards within a hundred feet of my son, my crew or anyone else I care about."
"Angel—" the Slayer began to protest.
"End of discussion, Buffy," the ensouled vampire folded his arms, a tone of finality in his voice. "My hotel, my rules. She's leaving."
Buffy's jaw dropped down as she gaped at him, unable to believe that Angel had just stooped to pulling the 'Home Field Advantage' card on her. For one moment, the Slayer was tempted to send him flying ten feet into the air with a hard right hook in order to force the vampire to see things her way...
But then the memory of D'hoffryn taunting her about how Slayers always thought they could solve all their problems with violence surfaced in Buffy's mind. Besides, deep down, she knew that no matter how much she disagreed with Angel, she had no choice but to respect his wishes. The petite blonde could only hope that the offer would still stand when the battle shifted to Sunnydale, so she could…
Just then, Buffy caught sight of Lilah curiously staring at Dawn, who seemed uncomfortable under the dead lawyer's scrutinizing gaze.
"Well, look at you," Lilah noted with a hint of approval. "Such a pretty green light, all dressed up in that cute little human package. Those monks did a pretty good job on you. It'd be easy for anyone to think you were real."
Dawn's eyes widened slightly, a feeling of insecurity taking hold of her. "I am real," she said in a small, yet defensive voice.
Lilah's look was smug, knowing and cruel all at once. "Of course you are."
"That's IT! I've had more than enough of you, lawyer," a furious Connor spat out the description like an insult as he stepped in front of his girlfriend. "You think any of these people could stop me if I decided to tear you apart, right here, right now? No, better question—you think they'd want to stop me?"
Definitely not. Oughta punch her right in her stupid face! an outraged Buffy thought as she stalked forward, Angel not far behind.
"Thanks for the offer, Dead Girl, but looks like we're going to have to pass," Buffy bit out with a dry smile. "Still, thanks for the pretty crystal. We'll be sure to put it to good use."
At that, Angel grabbed Lilah's arm hard, shoving her towards the door. "Goodbye, Lilah. And for your sake, you better hope we don't meet again."
"Not so fast, Dark Avenger," Lilah said as she squirmed in his grip. "You might not like it, but you need our help!"
"Does he?" Lindsey finally spoke up, looking rather amused at his former colleague being hustled towards the front doors like a hooker who had outstayed her welcome at a sleazy hotel. "For some reason, Lilah, I don't think so. Not your help, anyway."
"For once, Lindsey's got a point—I don't need your kind of poisoned support, Lilah," Angel nodded, his eyes dark and righteous. "I'll never need people like you or Wolfram & Hart. Because you're not part of the cure; you're part of the disease. Whatever's coming isn't going to be pretty, it's not going to be easy…and we may not survive it, but if we fail, it'll be on our terms, not yours. Your side may be fighting for survival, but us? We fight for a reason. A purpose. And that purpose is to protect the innocent. Whatever the cost to ourselves. That's who we are, and it's what we do. But I wouldn't expect you to understand that, Lilah. You're not capable of it. So, that being said, and I mean this quite literally...get the hell out of my house."
His impassioned speech drew a nod of approval from Oz, Gunn, Wes and Connor, a quivering lip from Andrew—lost in an epic 'geekasm'—inspired smiles from Darla, Kate, Fred, Anya and Dawn, and a look of respect from Giles.
And Buffy? Despite her previous annoyance with Angel, she had to fight not to swoon like a dreamy-eyed schoolgirl at just how incredibly sexy the dark-clad hero looked to her right now. Sigh…
Even Lilah, annoyed as she was, couldn't help but think that Angel was pretty hot at the moment.
Still, she had a job to do, so the attorney said, "Nice speech, hero, but the bottom line is this: you're going to need us. And soon. Because without help, all your reasons and shiny purpose? They're getting blown to Kingdom Come once the Awakening happens. So, when you get your head out of your purpose?"
She held up a business card, with a number scrawled on the back, and tucked it into Angel's front shirt pocket, the slow manner through which she did so making Buffy's fists curl in possessive knots. "Give me a call."
Just as she was about to saunter out, Lilah threw one last parting look at Wesley, his eyes still stony as he regarded her.
A smile, somehow both soft and hard at the same time, crossed her face. "Pleasant dreams, lover."
And with that, Lilah Morgan walked out into the pouring rain, closing the hotel's front doors behind her, leaving almost as sudden and unexpectedly as she'd appeared.
Moments after Lilah had left the building, leaving the white hats to deal with the universe-sized grenade she had just thrown into their laps, Willow decided to speak up.
"Y'know, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that I…really didn't like her," the redheaded witch said with a shake of her head.
"I'll second that," Buffy muttered with a scowl at the door, trying to make sure that dead woman truly was gone.
"I'll third it, then," Dawn said, rubbing her arms self-consciously. Those few brief words with Lilah had bothered her more than a little, as her true origin was still something that made her uncomfortable; it was a reminder that she wasn't really human.
Sensing her discomfort, Connor clutched her hand firmly. "Don't let her get inside your head, Dawn. Lilah's an evil bitch, in case you couldn't tell—"
"Language, Connor," Darla scolded him gently. Then she offered a wry smile. "Even though…you're absolutely right about that."
The two teens couldn't help but to laugh a little at that, despite the gravity of the situation.
"Bitch or not, our problems just got worse," Angel mused in serious contemplation. "A lot worse."
"I'd have to concur with that, yes," Giles said, his face creased in worry. "I knew the First was planning something big after it openly began assaulting the Slayer line. But even in my wildest nightmares, I-I never imagined anything of this magnitude."
Buffy turned to her Watcher, her face quite worried. "So, I take it evil Ally McBeal wasn't kidding around with any of this? The First really could …destroy the whole universe?"
Giles sighed heavily. "Yes, I'm afraid so. The Eye of Creation is, is…beyond our understanding, but if used as a weapon...it might be safe to say that this might be the most serious threat that we've ever encountered, worse even than Glory." He looked sadly at the young woman he loved like his own flesh and blood. "I'm sorry, Buffy, I really am, but it looks as if this task is largely going to fall to you. And Angel. We'll do what we can, and no doubt so will Faith and Spike—but ultimately, I'd say you're the only ones with the strength and skill needed to protect the Potentials, the world and all of reality against the coming darkness."
Annoyed, Willow immediately spoke up for her best friend. "Giles! Geez, would it kill you to try to sound a little less ominous? You're gonna give Buffy a coronary!"
For someone so young and beautiful, Buffy suddenly felt so old. So very old, and tired. Another year, another apocalypse. And this time, it was the Mother of All Apocalypses.
The big 'Humonga-Cowabunga-From-Down-Unda' wave that she had, deep down, always known was coming ever since she was Called at the tender young age of fifteen. Buffy wanted to look into the eyes of the man who was, for all intents and purposes, her father and tell him that she could handle it. She could handle it like she always did.
But the evil on the horizon was just so large. And for all of her great strength, she was only one girl. One woman, standing alone trying to fight the ocean back with a broom. One Slayer...One Girl in All the World.
Alone.
Damn it! Where the hell is Faith right now? Buffy thought to herself in sudden fury. We need her, and she's off having fun somewhere with Spike? God, I hate being the responsible one...
As if sensing Buffy's thoughts, and the loneliness that came with such responsibility, a strong, firm hand slipped into hers…a hand that belonged to Angel.
The young woman couldn't help but to gaze at the ensouled vampire with a sense of minor awe. His presence seemed almost larger than life to her, as his eyes softened, the small half-smile that had always made her knees weak slowly spreading across his face.
Angel's voice was a soft, yet fervent promise. "You won't be alone. I'll be there with you. Shoulder to shoulder. I'm yours. And we're gonna kick that thing's ass. Together."
Hope filled her heart at that word. Together.
Yes, Buffy realized, as a smile found its way onto her face, she could do this. She was not alone.
Because Angel was here.
She couldn't do this alone, but together, the two of them, they could move mountains, part the oceans and turn back even the mightiest wind. Together, they were powerful beyond the sum of their strengths. And together, there was nothing that they couldn't do.
Together, they were going to kick the First Evil's ass so hard that it would never forget the names Buffy Summers and Angel.
Dawn couldn't help but to smile as she saw the interaction between her sister and Angel. She had loved Angel like a brother, and she wasn't blind to how different, how alive Buffy was whenever he was around.
After all, all the other men she'd had feelings for? Both Owen Thurman and Scott Hope had been a mistake. Parker Abrams had been an even bigger one. Riley had tried, but he'd never even come close to being what Buffy needed. And Dawn didn't even want to think about how badly that thing between Buffy and Spike had ended; her sister had practically been a basket case all of last year, even if the last six months had borne witness to a drastic improvement in relations between them, ever since Spike had acquired his soul.
No, as far as Dawn was concerned watching her big sis and the Slayer's first love here and now, only Angel had ever brought out the real Buffy; the happy Buffy that she had always admired and envied. It was just like she'd told Vi and the others yesterday…they would be alright.
Because Angel and Buffy were here. And they would make things alright. They would save the day again, like they always did.
Kate shook her head in disgust. "Leave it to Lilah Morgan to sneak in at the last minute during a bad situation and make it worse."
Lorne eyed her curiously. "Hmm, 'bout that…if your aura got any hotter while she was here, you could've caused a meltdown, lemon drop. There's some kinda story between you two?"
"And how," Kate muttered bitterly, recalling her early days with the LAPD. "If I had a dime for every scumbag perp I busted that she managed to put back on the streets, I'd have retired to Florida by now. It was worse in court; seeing that arrogant little smirk on that bitch's face every time the judge threw out a case I'd worked on, it just pissed me the hell off."
Lindsey smiled wryly. "That sounds like Lilah, all right. Woman wouldn't know how to win gracefully if her life depended on it. Not like that matters now, though, does it?"
Ignoring Lindsey on purpose, Kate continued, "So, for a while there, I made it my mission to put together an airtight case every time I booked one of that firm's dirtbag clients." She managed a smile. "Made it all the more worthwhile when I could toss that smirk right back at her, those few times the assistant D.A. did send some creep of hers up the river."
Oddly, no one saw the morose and even broodier-than-normal look on Wesley's rugged, tired face…no one, that is, save Darla.
"Look, I hate to break up this little trip down Memory Lane and all, but don't you guys think we should get back on track? Namely, the Highway to Hell that the First is putting all of reality on in the next three weeks?" Anya interjected. It never ceased to amaze her how, even with the world falling down around them, these people could still find a way to get so wrapped up in their own personal crap that they ignored the big picture.
"Good point," Buffy relented. Her gaze, now hard and serious, flitted back to Whistler. "So is there anything else we need to know that you're keeping silent about, Whistler? Or am I going to have to break you open like a piñata to get the rest of the toy surprises out?"
Whistler held up his hands in defense as he took a step back. "Easy there, warrior princess, I'm pretty sure that's it. But, just to be sure, I'll check with the Conduit ASAP. Maybe there's a little extra something that we can still use."
"If there is, get it fast," Angel told him gravely. "Now that the First is stepping up its game, we're going to need all the help that we can get."
"Then maybe you should reconsider about Wolfram & Hart's offer," Gunn suggested with a shrug. "If Big Evil's really going to war, we're going to need some more bodies to throw at this thing; even it's the Little Evil's cannon fodder."
The vampire's eyes grew hard. "Out of the question."
"Okay, fine, I'm just saying—"
"What, Gunn, what are you saying?" Angel interrupted challengingly. "That we should hook up with the same bastards who've tried to kill us all repeatedly, who went after my son, and who are responsible for a good chunk of all the evil in this city? Who want to use me to start their own personal apocalypse? Forget it. No chance in hell."
"Kinda funny you should put it like that," Gunn testily retorted, not backing down an inch. "'Cuz we might have the exact same chance of surviving this 'Wakey-Wakey' apocalypse thing without backup. Only you can't see that, because you've got your head up your—"
"Charles, c'mon," Fred cut him off, not liking where this conversation was headed.
"You can't fight evil by joining up with evil," Angel said angrily. "Nearly three centuries of experience talking here. If you lie down in a viper nest, guess what? You're going to get snake-bit. And I don't feel like getting their fangs stuck in my ass when we're fighting for the survival of the universe! For all we know, the Senior Partners are angling for a chance to use the Eye for their own purposes, have you thought about that?"
"Yeah, but you obviously don't give a damn 'bout my opinion—"
"Guys!" Buffy shouted loudly, eager to defuse another alpha male versus alpha male powder keg. At this point in the game, they needed to be on the same page, not at each other's throats.
"Look, it doesn't matter. Lawyer Lady's gone now, and she's left us her card in case of emergency. So let's just focus on what we have and what we know right now, and if we absolutely have to, we can play that card later. But we have to get in sync. All of us. We're a team now. And the only way this is going to work is if we're all in it together."
Her words seemed to have their desired effect on Gunn and Angel, each of whom reluctantly backed down, each man nodding slightly to the other in a silent apology.
Little did Buffy know, but this was relatively commonplace around Angel Investigations. Gunn was more often than not at odds with Angel about many things, the outspoken vampire hunter having been used to getting his own way while leading his crew, while Angel didn't like it when people openly questioned his decisions, especially if they worked for him. The influence of Angelus was suppressed, but never entirely absent from his psyche as the vampire demon was always there, just below the surface.
But, while their debates could get heated, things would go back to normal right afterwards between the two males. Because deep down, both hunter and vampire respected each other. And while Gunn would never admit it…he really did think of Angel as a close friend.
However, as he watched this dynamic between two men he'd once considered close to him as brothers, combined with the ache of a heart long broken caused by the reemergence of a dead woman he'd cared for deeply, Wesley was certain of one thing...he had to get out of here.
"Alright, then," Wesley said abruptly, as he turned towards the stairs. "It's late; long past midnight, as a matter of fact. I suggest we all get some sleep, and talk strategy in the morning."
Despite the toneless wording, Angel could feel, could sense the pain that Wes was in, and he couldn't help but to feel sorry for him. Seeing Lilah again couldn't have been easy for the ex-Watcher, not after he'd personally decapitated her down in the basement.
Angel's words made Wesley stop at the foot of the stairs. "Wes, look…I know that this thing with Lilah must've been—"
"Don't bother," Wesley's cool, yet acidic British tone mercilessly cut him off.
Angel was surprised. "What?"
"Spare me the empty consolations. Stop trying to act like everything is fine between us. And please, cease and desist with the empty overtures of friendship," Wesley's voice became harder. A beat, before his voice lowered to a softer, more vulnerable tone. "There's no point in pretending you people actually care any longer."
The members of Team Angel turned to each other in surprise at those words, unable to believe that Wesley…Wes…their longtime friend, had just said that.
"Wesley, we do care," Fred protested, hurt.
"English, come on, man," Gunn insisted. Despite everything that had happened between the two men since last year, deep down, Gunn missed his former friend. The man had taken a bullet for him once; and that wasn't the kind of thing a man like Gunn would ever forget.
"What's past is past, Wes," Lorne implored in his gentle timbre. "You don't see me holding a grudge over that night everything went to hell with the little nipper over there, do ya?"
Connor felt a little self-conscious as everyone turned to stare at him, as well as feeling Dawn clutch his hand a little tighter. The young man saw his mother looking at him and so said to Wesley, "What he said, I guess."
Despite the swell of emotion that threatened to choke him, the longing in his heart to fit back into the place that had felt so right to him for so long, Wesley refused to bend.
He wasn't the one who'd turned his back on them; no, they had all turned their backs on him. And now, of all times, they wanted to kiss and make up?
Too late, Wesley thought to himself acidly. Too little and far, far, too late.
"This isn't about holding grudges; this is about all of you needing to be clear about something," Wesley coldly replied, his back still turned to them, almost symbolically. "And that is, I'm here for one reason only; to prevent the onset of Armageddon. I am not your friend. I am not your comrade-in-arms. And Angel, I am most definitely not your flunky any longer. So kindly keep out of my personal life, just as I'll be doing my damndest to keep out of yours once all this is over."
When Wes turned back to face the group, his eyes were cold. Distant. Emotionless. "Every single one of you."
Fred couldn't help but to shiver as the British man's eyes briefly met hers. She swallowed hard out of guilt, knowing that she, in particular, had delivered the cruelest words of all to Wes during the fallout after Connor's kidnapping. She couldn't help it at the time, though; she had trusted Wesley so much, and his perceived betrayal had hurt her deeply.
Granted, if she could have known that the result of said treatment would have been this angry, bitter man replacing the kind, sweet and polite friend that she had come to know since Pylea, Fred might not have done what she did. But it was too late to change what had happened now.
Wesley subsequently stalked his way up the stairs without another word, leaving an uncomfortable silence in his wake.
Oz tried to diffuse the tension. "Well, that was…uncomfortable." Emphasis on 'tried.'
Fred bit her lip in sadness and shame. "My God…we really hurt him, didn't we?"
Lorne sighed. "Yeah, I'm afraid so, gum drop. We really did. His aura's got more grey around it than George Clooney's hairline."
Gunn sadly realized something. "We're never gonna get him back, are we?"
Whistler shrugged, but was careful about how his words sounded this time. "I wouldn't bet money on it. He's been on the brink for a while; all he needs is one good, hard shove in order to send him all the way down to Crazyville. Guy's hurtin', that's for certain."
Darla had witnessed enough, though. She could no longer bear to see such a good and…noble…man in such pain. It was torturing her soul to see Wes act like that.
"I'll go talk to him," she spoke up, surprising some of them. "Wesley needs someone not connected with the past right now."
Suddenly, Lindsey caught up with her as she was halfway to the stairs. "Darla...just hold on a minute."
"What?" she snapped, impatiently.
"Look, I know I'm not the most objective guy around concerning Quickdraw, but please, just hear me out," Lindsey said earnestly. "That man's angry, and he needs some time to cool off. You go up there and try to make nice with him now, and there's no telling what he might do. Right now, he's...dangerous."
"I'm not afraid of him," Darla replied, steadfast. "Wesley wouldn't hurt me, I'm sure of it."
"With his track record? We both know the odds are against it," Lindsey countered. His voice became softer, his eyes filled with concern. "Darla…please, don't do this."
Despite the brief flutter in her heart over the way he looked at her, Darla batted it aside, fixing her coldest glare on the ex-lawyer. "Take your hand off me right now, Lindsey, or get ready to lose it—again," she threatened the man, knowing full well that she had the power now to make good on such a threat.
Exhaling in defeat, and realizing that there was no way that he could convince her not to do this, Lindsey let go of her arm. Without another word Darla quickly went up the stairs, disappearing towards the next floor, leaving Lindsey hurt, somewhat angry, and more than a little jealous.
Angel looked down, realizing that his anger—not to mention, attempted murder of the British man—had driven one of his friends behind an impenetrable wall of isolation and pain. He, of all people, knew how that felt. "I messed up. Damn it…I should've tried harder to mend fences between us. Yeah, I was pissed with him over what happened to Connor, but if I knew that he'd become so—"
"Angel," Buffy cut him off gently. Her eyes were filled with sympathy. "Don't go there, it never helps. From what you told me, there's a lot of blame to go around with this one. But Wes'll come around, you'll see. Just give him some time. And no matter how hard he pushes you away, you've got to fight to pull him back in."
Upon hearing her words, Angel couldn't help but to think that there was some kind of double meaning to them. Like maybe Wesley's strained relationship wasn't the only thing she was talking about. But that was a nut to crack another time.
"I hope you're right," was all that Angel could manage to say, looking up the stairs where his (former) friend and Darla had disappeared.
He then caught Connor's eye, who was likewise looking troubled. Whether it was because the male teen thought that this bad business with Wyndam-Pryce was inadvertently his fault, or because his mother was showing interest in a man other than his father, Angel couldn't guess.
Precisely at that moment, Wood came up from the basement, and Kennedy came down the stairs…followed at least thirty of the Potential Slayers, apart from Molly, Vi and Amanda—who were still up in their rooms awaiting word from Dawn and the others.
Alert, Buffy was surprised by the sudden arrival of the Potentials into this picture. She was planning on briefing them sometime the next day on the current situation; but certainly not now, not when she was only just getting a handle on this colossal wave of trouble that had hit their team.
"Uh…what's going on?" a confused Buffy asked the new arrivals. "Lights out was at eleven, I thought you guys knew that. We have a lot of things to go over in the morning."
"Oh, you're damn right we have a lot of things to go over, boss," Kennedy replied with a snappy tone that instantly made Buffy's hackles rise.
Ever since this loudmouth Potential had arrived in Sunnydale, Buffy had been holding back—barely—the urge to knock her down a peg or three with a good five-fingered knuckle sandwich. It was only because of Kennedy's relationship with Willow that she had yet to give in to that instinct.
Wood, notably, was displeased. "Kennedy, I thought we agreed to keep the others out of this for now?"
"You agreed; I didn't. My fellow Potentials all need to see this," Kennedy declared, almost righteously, as she disdainfully eyed her 'leader' and the 'hero' next to her. "They all need to see just how big of a hypocrite their 'protector' really is."
Buffy's eyes narrowed. "Hypocrite? Kennedy, what the hell are you going on about?"
Paying no attention to Buffy, Wood took a few steps forward until he was barely three feet in front of Angel. The vampire was eying Buffy's boss at Sunnydale High School in curiosity…although something in him was also on guard.
"Angel, right?" Wood started, his tone just a little too casual for Angel's liking. "I have this theory that I was hoping you could help me test."
Glancing at Buffy, who was just as confused—and wary—as he was, Angel returned his guarded gaze to Wood. "Okay, what theory? And what kind of test?"
"It's nothing fancy," Wood said, his hand slipping into his pocket. "Just a simple game of…catch."
In one quick motion, the Watcher-trained demon hunter tossed a small object, a simple gold cross, towards Angel. And, his well-attuned supernatural reflexes reacting automatically, Angel couldn't help but to reach out and catch it before his brain realized the danger.
As his hand closed around the cross, the sound of sizzling flesh could be heard as the holy icon began painfully burning into Angel's skin. And the pain caused him to involuntarily change…
…into his true vampire face.
As the Scoobies and the Fang Gang watched in shocked surprise, Angel looking up in confusion and most of the Potentials screaming in sheer terror—not Kennedy, though, who just smiled in triumph as she began drawing out a crossbow concealed behind her back—Buffy gaped in horror as she realized the gravity of what had just happened.
Wood's eyes were filled with clear and deadly purpose. And uncontainable hate. "Well, what do you know? Looks like you failed the test…vampire."
A stake hidden under his sleeve slid into his hand. "Can you guess what happens next?"
And with the deadly intent of a predator pouncing upon its prey, he plunged the deadly stake forward; straight towards Angel's heart…
TBC…
Next: As Wesley and Darla grow closer, what will the fallout be from Robin's attack on Angel? Is this the end of our favorite broody Dark Avenger? Or do Robin and Kennedy have some 'splaining to do?
And just what will happen when Spike and Faith return to the Hyperion? Well…that would be telling, wouldn't it? (Insert evil laugh here)
Well, that's all for now, folks. By the way, I just started a new Facebook page under my Jean-theGuardian screenname, so if you can, Like me on Facebook. And remember to post a Review and/or Private IM me to chat (c'mon guys, show me love!) go back and read the previous chapters of Bring Me To Life, and tune in next month for the 9-year anniversary chapter (I'll try not to make you guys wait another year for this to end, promise!)
And as always, remember…you wear the cheese; the cheese does not wear you!
Jean-theGuardian is out.
Peace!
