Bring Me to Life – A Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel Crossover Event
Part 34 – Exit Light, Enter Night, Part 2
Angeles National Forest - 50 Miles from Los Angeles
Now
"Mears?" Spike stared, repulsed, at the skinless, deformed man just a few feet from his group. "Bugger. What the hell did ya do to yourself? You look like something the cat dragged in from the slaughterhouse."
Warren glowered at the vampire. He never liked Spike, not since he made that Buffybot for him years ago. He was always pushing him around as he made the robot, slapping him upside the head whenever he encountered a program hiccup delaying the construction, threatening him with a gruesome death the longer he delayed. But now the tables were turned, and the cocky demon was at his mercy. And Warren had no intention of showing any to this lot. Especially not Willow.
"Hilarious, Spike." He slowly turned his white, bulbous eyes to Willow, his teeth slammed shut in a hateful snarl. "You can thank your witch bitch friend over there for this makeover."
In a flash, Willow's mind traveled back unbidden one year ago back to the outskirts of a forest 10 miles outside Sunnydale's city limits. No matter how much she tried to forget, she could still hear the audible ripping of Warren's flesh tearing off of his body, could hear his agonizing screams and pleas for mercy, could feel his physical pain and suffering erupting from him like an exploding star.
And now, the man, the creature, that tore her world apart, that she thought she had murdered in cold blood, was standing right in front of her. Wide, bloodshot eyes stared at her in insane, undiluted hatred, the pupils of his eyes narrowed at her like pinpoints of some macabre black sun, devoid of love or any glimpse of hope. The pungent, putrid stink of burnt magic and hot human flesh wafting off him as the moon dully bouncing off his white-and-pink-and-red epidermal tissue, weapon trembling in his hand.
I did that, the pretty redheaded witch realized in horror. I created that…that…thing. Goddess, what have I done?
"Warren..." For a moment, Willow found it hard to speak as she stared back in abject shock. "I...I don't...how are you...how is this...how?"
His harsh, high-pitched laugh was unsettling enough that she had to dig her nails into her palm to keep from flinching. Shocked as she was, Willow would not dare show fear to the psychopath who took Tara away from her.
"Surprised, Rosenberg? Well, let's just say I had an angel looking over my shoulder," he drawled as his eyes drifted toward Amy in a wanton leer. "And boy, is she one hot lookin' angel."
"Aww, baby, that's so sweet," Amy cooed as she leaned over and gave him a long, sloppy kiss, drawing a disgusted grimace from Spike, a revolted headshake from Faith and an eyebrow raise from Oz filled with morbid fascination.
Breaking off the kiss, Amy gave her rival witch a twisted smile. "What do you think, Willow? Isn't my new boyfriend just to die for?"
Kennedy shuddered at the sight. "Okay, I think I just lost my appetite...for the next 20 years of my life." Suddenly, her eyes widened as she darted her glance back to Willow. "Wait...this is Warren? The Warren?"
The name was not lost on Oz, who turned to Willow in surprise. "Warren? Willow, this is the guy who you...?"
He didn't finish. The troubled look on his former lover's cherubic features answered all the werewolf's questions. Willow had told him the day before about Tara's killer, his vile plans for revenge against Buffy gone wrong, and how the grieving witch let despair, hatred and vengeance overcome her as she hunted him down. She told him all about how she still had nightmares about that night in the forest, how she could still hear his dying screams in her dreams, could even smell him sometimes. And now, the worst nightmare of the woman he loved was standing right in front of him, crawled out of the depths of hell to torment her.
Oz swallowed a canine-like snarl that bubbled in his throat.
He could feel the wolf inside him start to grow restless, to growl angrily, scratching against its cage impatiently, and it took everything Oz had to keep the beast from emerging.
If this creep thought he was going to lay a finger on Willow, he had another thing coming. Oz had trained so hard to avoid giving into his most primal instincts, to respect human life. Warren Mears, he decided, held no such convictions. And while it abhorred Oz to even think about using the wolf to take a human life, if it came down to Willow or Mears, deep down, the young werewolf knew he wouldn't even hesitate about his decision.
Not even for a second, Oz decided with finality, his sharp eyes never leaving their enemies.
"Red, fill me in, and make it quick," a wary Faith said, hardened brown eyes trained on their assailants as her right hand drifted slowly into her jacket, where another stake was tucked. "Who the hell is Freddy Krueger Junior over there and how do you know him?"
Off the Slayer's brusque tone, Willow snapped out of her shocked trance, green eyes narrowed in anger as she returned to her senses.
"His name is Warren Mears. He's a wannabe super-villain."
"WANNABE?" an outraged Warren yelped.
"Wannabe," Willow coldly retorted. "High-level IQ, higher level sociopath and misogynist. He shot Buffy and Tara last year. Tara...didn't make it," Willow said, sadness briefly filling her eyes before she glared at Warren again. "I…snapped after that. Took all the mojo I could get, tracked him down, and I...I did that to him."
"'Bored now'."
Those words…Willow had to stifle a gasp at that phrase. She knew full well what Warren was talking about. He wasn't the only one who left that night with a piece of him ripped away.
"Do you even remember that's what you said?" the deformed tech genius-turned-murderer said pointedly, his left eye twitching maddeningly. "Last two words of my human life, so I probably remember better seeing as how I replay that moment over and over and over and over and over and OVER IN MY SLEEP EVERY NIG-!"
Warren's maddened rant came to a halt as he caught himself. Almost as suddenly as his temper flared, it vanished, his voice quelling to an eerily polite tone, as if he was entertaining guests at a dinner party. "You were upset. Kinda spiraling, is what they say. Which is, hey – I'm not excusing where I was at, so don't think…but, I mean you were off the rails. But silver lining-if Amy hadn't been watching you, she would never have started watching me. Watching over me."
Warren let out a hollow chuckle as he casually put his flesh-stripped arm around Amy's slender shoulders, the dark witch affectionately wrapping the gruesomely raw appendage closer around her. The couple from Hell.
"I hit the jackpot, right? Looks, brains, tons of firepower packed under those gorgeous manicured fingernails and quick as a whip," Warren crowed cockily. "I mean, do you know she had maybe a four-second window after you ripped my skin off to act before I could have died of shock alone?"
He almost didn't notice the slightly guilty look on his girlfriend's face.
Amy nervously corrected, "Um...technically, baby...you did die."
Willow would have found the comical, stunned look on Warren's face as he slowly turned his head to Amy hilarious if it wasn't for the fact that the bastard who murdered Tara and a few of his closest friends were surrounding them with murderous looks in their eyes.
Warren's voice was still politely toned, but there was a hint of surprise straining it. "Hmm? Say-what-now?"
Amy looked at him, her voice matter-of-fact as if stating a rather obvious fact. "You. You died. Didn't we go over this?"
Warren chuckled. Then he shook his head. And then…he lost it.
"No, we didn't go-we never...I DIED? What the hell do you MEAN I DIED?"
"Well, sweetie, didn't you wonder why The First gave us our marching orders using your body a few hours ago? It can only take the form of dead people, remember?"
"Why didn't you TELL ME?"
"Look, you were legally dead for, like, a second. And I restarted your heart right after. It wasn't that big a deal," Amy sighed.
"It's a PRETTY BIG DEAL if I was DEAD!" he blurted out in anger.
"Legally! It was just legally, I swear. And you barely even knew it!" Amy protested.
"What the HELL, AMY?! Oh my GOD! I can't believe you didn't tell me!" Warren howled.
"I didn't tell you 'cause I didn't want to upset you. I forgot, okay?!"
"You FORGOT?!"
Amy angrily jabbed her finger at his fleshy chest. "Hey! You try keeping it together while you're constantly suppressing your power levels while living in caves eating berries and using leaves for toilet paper and then tell me about how well you remember stuff!"
Warren shook his head, unable to comprehend what his lover was saying. "Unbelievable. I-I-I just, this is unbelievable. That's it, it's official. You are, quite literally, the WORST girlfriend EVER!"
Impatiently, Amy shook her head. "See? This is why I didn't bother to tell you! I knew you'd be a big baby over the whole thing. 'Boo-hoo! I'm Warren, Willow killed me and I can't touch my 'Deep Space Nine' DVDs without getting blood on the discs. Wah!' Seriously, Warren, man up, already!"
"Um...if you two lovebird-brains need a minute..." a bored Spike quipped, drawing twin icy glare from the couple. But Spike hardly cared. He'd almost rather get to the death match part of the evening than listen to this melodrama between that disfigured psychotic nerdling and this crazy witch.
Willow? Can you hear me? Oz projected mentally towards the scarlet-haired Wiccan, shifting his body closer to her while giving himself enough room to watch the flanking Bringers on the left of him.
You know I can, Willow replied telepathically, her eyes never leaving Warren and Amy. Better make it fast, Oz.
Can you teleport us out of here? Not trying to be pessimistic, but the odds aren't exactly looking rosy for us.
Would if I could. But I can't. Oz could smell the beads of sweat on her forehead even before they started forming, her breathing becoming more strained. Amy's trying to block my magick. I can feel it. It's taking all I've got to fight her off. We're probably going to have to fight our way out of this one. Sorry, Ozzie.
He forced himself to remain calm, knowing that Willow would sense if he was nervous. She needed assurance right now. Especially now. Okay, what's the plan, then?
For now, just keep them talking. I'm drawing on the earth for more power. The longer they talk, the stronger I'm getting.
His eyebrow raised in surprise. You can do that?
Willow gave him a subtle nod. Yup.
Will it be enough?
His acutely sensitive ears could pick up her small, unsure sigh. I guess we're gonna find out.
"Anyway," Warren composed himself again before he returned a leering smile at Willow. "That flash-paper disappearing trick was pretty hokey, we kid about that, but thinking on your feet? This is the girl. Her magic is my skin. Keeps me alive. Or that time we came up with the spell for you and your girlfriend – and hey, that was quick! I just finished learning how to walk again and you're already in the fresh trim…"
Angered by his crass comment, Willow narrowed her eyes at the humanoid figure in front of her. Kennedy shot Warren a venomous scowl, as well.
Oz, painfully reminded of his love's romantic unavailability, kept his face neutral but his eyes never left sight of the murderous hoard surrounding them. There'd be plenty of time to nurse his hurt heart later, he reasoned. The most important thing, the only thing that mattered, was to get Willow and the others out of here alive. And from the looks of things, he realized, that would be easier said than done.
"But through all that...I remember thinking about this moment...thinking about what it would be like seeing you again," Warren mused aloud. His crude, mottled arm stretched out towards Willow. "Sometimes, when I look in the mirror and see what you turned me into, or when the nerves in my fingers flare up and pain shoots through every cell in my arm from just a few simple touches, when I learned to wear pants without the fabric feeling like it was melting itself into my flesh, I would picture your face. I would wonder what it would be like to just reach out and...strangle you. Take a rusty knife and just peel that pretty face off your...well, face. But in every scenario, in every sick, twisted fantasy, there's always ONE QUESTION I'd always want to ask, and since it comes up in this situation, I just have to ask you…I need you to tell me something..."
Once more, Warren raised the rifle-like silver weapon at Willow, its gears whirring loudly and angrily. His saliva-slickened teeth gleamed in a twisted smile.
"Are you bored now?"
Snarling, Kennedy decided at that moment she had heard enough. "I sure as hell know I am, Freak Show."
In a quick move, she raised her crossbow and fired a bolt aimed right for Warren's chest. But the arrow never reached its target. Freezing in midair, the deadly arrow was harmlessly suspended in midair, caught in Amy's magickal force field.
"Wow, that was...painfully predictable," Amy crowed tauntingly, shaking her head at the young, angry Potential.
"You want painful?"
At that voice, all eyes went to a scowling Willow, whose narrowed, focused green irises turned into twin black pools. Her normally melodic voice, now thick and deep with raw, unnatural power, was a booming, terrifying rumble that could make thunder quiver.
"I'll SHOW YOU PAINFUL."
"GET DOWN!" Oz shouted as he jumped on top of Kennedy and went tumbling to the ground, his body shielding her. Spike, moving on instinct, grabbed Faith and threw his body on top of hers as they hit the dirt together.
Willow's power erupted out of her like a volcano, unleashed in a booming, brilliant orange explosion of light and concussive energy that spread through their section of the forest.
Faith, Spike, Oz and Kennedy were safely shielded behind her in the eye of this magickal storm, but the force knocked the Bringers off their feet, leveled several trees and blew Pearl and Nash backwards from their positions above the battle sight.
Yet Amy, Warren and Drusilla had barely managed to hold their ground, Amy amplifying her force field up several notches to match Willow's power.
As the dust cleared, both powerful witches glowered malevolently at each other, their magically-darkened eyes glittering with power, hatred and determination.
Slowly, each side's fighters managed to make it to their feet, glaring angrily at the other side.
"Everyone okay?" Oz asked.
Alongside him, Kennedy groaned, clutching her ribs. "Define 'okay'."
"Now that's a show I wouldn't mind seeing from afar," Spike said, grimacing as he rubbed his head. Turning to Faith, who slowly rose to her feet, his eyes filled with concern. "All right, Faith? Looks like you could use a—"
"Fine. I'm fine," Faith bit out, waving off his concern. Spike wasn't the only one who had a bad ass image to protect, after all. "Though a little warning might help before you go all nuclear next time, Red," she called out to Willow.
"Walk it off. You'll be fine," Willow's distorted, hollow voice boomed back, the witch never turning her eyes away from her enemies.
"Yeesh. And people say I have a dark side," Faith muttered quietly.
Spike drew out his sword, regaining his focus as he saw the enemy regrouping. "Alright, boys and girls, break out the party favors. Looks like things are about to get rowdy up in 'ere."
Off his warning, Oz readied his knife and Kennedy took aim with her crossbow while Willow stood ahead of them, energy and magick raging around her like a deadly whirlpool.
Her brown eyes coalescing into focused, glaring dark pools, Faith drew her stake out as eyed a madly giggling Drusilla. "Alright," Faith grinned, knowing the fight was about to kick off. "Party time."
"Okay, Bookworm," Amy's now-darkened irises glowered at her rival, her hands glowing with crackling, deadly purple energy. The burning smell of magick flooded the air. "If that's how you wanna play it, fine...It's On Now."
Her eyes engulfed in shiny onyx, Willow smiled chillingly. "Bring it on, Mama's Girl."
Magick blasts flashed. Arrows flew. Steel clashed with steel. The forest shook.
The battle had begun...
Hyperion Hotel
Now
After the life she'd lived since her calling, there wasn't much worse that Buffy could have imagined.
But as she beheld the sight of Jasmine, smiling ominously as she was flanked by The Beast and a small army of Bringers amid the smoldering ruins of where the doors to the Hyperion Hotel stood moments before, she had to admit that she was hard-pressed to find a scenario that was more bleak than the one facing her now.
Alongside her, Angel groaned as he clutched the back of his head, grimly taking assessment of the situation. He managed to take a quick look behind him to take stock of how his friends and allies were doing. Their condition didn't give him much comfort. Many of them like the Potentials, Dawn, Fred, Andrew and Anya looked shaken, stunned, while there were some like Gunn, Giles, Kate, Wesley and Lindsey who immediately got on the defensive, some of them slowly reaching for nearby weapons. But what caught his eye were two figures not far off from his left. Those figures were a trembling and shaken Cordelia and a surprised, grim-faced Xander, instinctively putting his arm out as he shielded Cordelia behind him.
In Cordelia's hands…the briefcase containing the Keystone. She hadn't finished securing it in the basement vault like Angel had instructed her to moments before the news of Amy's campfire slaughter began to blare all over the airwaves.
Immediately, Angel's mind began to race.
Aside from protecting the Keystone, Priority One was to get everyone to safety, though that was starting to look next to impossible. Their foes likely had the hotel surrounded. There was only one viable option—a secret escape door in the basement, one that led directly to a tunnel that led to a manhole about five miles away from the hotel. The Angel Investigations team had taken to calling that "Option 2". It was a crisis-level escape route, one they would only use if the hotel was under overwhelming attack and fighting was no longer an option. Angel's eyes managed to find Wesley, who glanced towards Angel amid the chaos. As the (former) friends' gazes met, Angel tapped his wrist twice, their secret signal for using the Option 2 escape route. Darla, who noted the exchange between the two men, was confused, but it only took a moment for Wesley to understand before he grimly nodded. The team always had a protocol in the event of using Option 2. If Angel was there, he would hold off whatever the danger was, while the others escaped through the tunnel. It was a risky move, leaving Angel unprotected while he dealt with a deadly threat, but in the end, Angel trusted that Wesley, despite his issues and struggles in the last year, would be up to the task of protecting everyone.
With that set in motion, Angel returned his worried gaze to Buffy. The Slayer managed to slowly make it to her feet, her knees wobbling slightly as she did, her beautiful moss-green eyes wide in fear and disbelief as she stared at the form of Jasmine and all the rogues standing only 9,10 feet from them.
"Buffy?" Angel muttered quietly, so only she could hear. "Are you okay?"
"Judging from what I'm seeing…really not," Buffy whispered back, her stunned eyes never leaving Jasmine. "Angel, there's too many of them. We can't take them all here, especially with us being five soldiers down. We have to get everyone out of here."
"Wes is already working on that. We have a plan in place for this kind of thing," Angel uttered in hushed tones. "But we're going to need to buy them time."
"Oh, joy," Buffy dryly whispered.
"I hear you on that, but not much other choice," Angel replied. "Buffy…if this goes south, let me hold them off. You just run. Run and don't look back. There's another trap door by the kitchen oven, it'll lead you—"
"No!" Her hushed voice grew strained with panic at the thought. "Forget it, Angel. I'm not leaving you."
"Don't argue with me on this," Angel insisted. "Please, Buffy…think about the others. They need you."
"And I need you," Buffy replied, their eyes poignantly meeting for a moment. "I just got you back. I'm not losing you again."
Off the heat, the fierce devotion he saw in his former lover's eyes, he could see that it was useless to argue with her on this. After all, this was Buffy. She had risked life and limb, literally, to protect him in the past. Even with the hounds of hell baying at their broken doorstep, she would rather go down alongside him in a hopeless battle than to leave him to die alone, like part of him still felt he deserved.
Very well, he though in resignation, his hand slowly locking with Buffy's as she helped him stand to his feet. The pair of lovers, a star-crossed souled Champion and Chosen One, stood side-by-side on the edge of battle. If this is how it ends…I can deal.
"Am I interrupting something?" Jasmine innocently asked. She smiled, but there was nothing friendly about the way her perfect teeth seemed to gleam in the flickering glow of the hotel's now-damaged lights.
Casually, she walked a few steps over to the right, taking in the sight of the hotel. "Nice digs, Angel! Very posh. You came a long way from that creepy old mansion on Crawford Street when we last spoke, didn't ya?"
Angel's brow furrowed in confusion. Crawford Street? What is she…?
"Though I have to say…it looks like you're starting to let the place go a little bit," Jasmine continued, bending down to pick up a piece of stone that once was part of the obliterated doorway. "My advice?"
The stone piece suddenly shattered and crumbled in her hand. Her smile was chilling. "Kill your decorator."
"Jasmine, what the hell are you doing?" Buffy asked in disbelief, gesturing to The Beast and the Bringers. "You know who these guys are! Who they work for! You said you were willing to help us, and you go and do this?"
Jasmine tilted her head slightly, as if studying Buffy.
Frustrated, Buffy demanded, "Answer me!"
The answer Buffy received was not the one she had expected.
"'Jasmine'?"
The question fell off the Power's lips in a curious fashion, as if her own name sounded alien to her. Something in the way she said it sent a chill up Buffy's spine, but the Slayer couldn't figure it out. Angel could also feel it. His preternatural senses were going berserk, even more so than before, feeling the presence of something terribly old and terribly evil. And very familiar…
A soft, yet mocking laugh escaped the fallen Power's mouth. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid 'Jasmine' doesn't live here anymore."
Off the confusion in Buffy's eyes, Jasmine's laugh grew harsher. "Oh, look at that. The lost look in those pretty little dull cow eyes, the cute little brow all scrunched in confusion. Little school girl's still without a clue. The big pop quiz came along and she forgot to bring her books. But it's okay, sweetie, I've got your extra help. Just dig a little deeper. Forget the maggots in the back, or the scared little girls you're so desperately trying to protect. It's like I told you before…"
The evil smile 'Jasmine' flashed at Buffy grew wider. " 'Can't save them all, can ya, Buffy?'"
Buffy had to stifle a gasp. Those words…
Those were exactly the words that the dead Potential named Eve—or rather, a dark, foul creature pretending to be Eve—cheerily taunted her with a month ago in her own basement amid a small group of frightened Slayers-In-Training, just one sunset before it sicced a Turok-han vampire once again onto her home.
Buffy's confusion started to give way to something else, something familiar…something awful.
'Jasmine' laughed mockingly. "That's it, Summers. Now you're getting it. You know me. You've always known me. Follow the shiver down your spine, follow that ice spreading through your heart and let it guide you to the truth. The truth that you've always known. Something you should finally start to realize…I'm coming. You're going. No scratch that…"
The Power's eyes briefly flickered red. "I'm here."
A sickening realization started to churn in Buffy's stomach, her eyes filling with a mix of clarity and horror as she finally understood who…what…'Jasmine' really was.
Buffy uttered a quiet, stunned word. "No…"
'Jasmine' smiled cruelly. "Yes."
"It can't be…" Buffy shook her head. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real…could it? "It's impossible."
"Say it," 'Jasmine' replied, her voice taunting the blonde warrior. "Say my name. It's no fun unless you say it."
Off Buffy's stunned silence, the fallen Power…or at least, something that looked like her…grew impatient.
"Say it!" she snapped.
As she swallowed, Buffy's next two words were hushed, shocked, but loud enough for the pin-drop quiet hotel to hear perfectly.
"The First."
Off those words, screams of fright from several of the terrified Potentials erupted in the background, while some of the heroes either stared in shock or started to clutch their weapons tighter. Angel turned to Buffy in shock at the words she uttered, before he turned his stunned gaze to Jasmine/The First. Now it was clear to him why this dark vibe he was getting felt so familiar. It was the exact same feeling of dark, unholy power that he sensed years ago on that fateful Christmas Eve when The First had taken the form of Jenny Calendar and tried to drive Angel mad enough to kill Buffy, and then himself.
The pieces started to fall together in his mind. If The First had a body, then it could only be here for one thing. And that meant he had to get Cordelia and that briefcase out of here immediately. The fate of all of existence depended on it.
"Bingo," Jasmine/The First chuckled. "Guess it's not completely true what they say about blondes, is it?"
"What did you do to Jasmine?" Angel growled.
"Oh. Well, Mommy and I had a…hmm, well, let's just say we had a 'bonding' moment. A real mother-child thing," Jasmine/The First said offhandedly. Smiling, it turned towards Buffy. "But hey, kids are supposed to outlive their parents in the end, right, Buffy? You'd know that better than anyone."
The fire came back into Buffy's eyes, her chin raising defiantly. "What do you want?"
"Now that I'm a real girl?" Jasmine/The First smirked. "Gee, there's a lot of fun things I'd want to do! Iced mochas, snowball fights, maybe a chance to torture some cute little woodland creatures…"
Its eyes drifted to the briefcase in a wide-eyed Cordelia's hands. "But I think I'll settle for taking my Keystone, thank you much."
Instinctively, Cordelia clutched the case closer to her chest as Xander grabbed a nearby sword, defensively standing further in front of his former girlfriend and current-too-complicated-to-figure-out-right-now.
Buffy and Angel immediately shifted into fighting stances, both warriors taking a stand as they stood between the army from hell and their friends.
"Yeah? You like crystals? Try the Bath and Body down Fifth Avenue," Buffy spat. "I hear they have a sale on scented soaps, too."
"Ah, there it is, the famous Summers wit," Jasmine/The First chuckled. "I'd love to do the banter thing right back, really, but I'm kind of on a schedule, so I'll make it simple. Hand me my Keystone, and the most I'll leave you with is a hefty clean-up bill for the property damage. If you don't, then my friends," it gestured to The Beast and the dozens of Bringers behind it, "will kill and dismember all of your friends. Your call."
Buffy and Angel turned to each other, nodding once.
Angel set his hardened eyes on Jasmine/The First. "Okay…we call 'Bring It On'."
"And we ain't talking about the movie," Buffy quipped, a look of determination on her pretty face.
"Oh, good, I was hoping you would make this fun for me," Jasmine/The First smiled. Looking to The Beast, it nodded. "Get me the Keystone. Kill anyone who gets in your way. Hell…just kill."
Smiling darkly, The Beast nodded back, taking two lumbering steps in Cordelia's direction…only to get caught with a fierce kick to the face from Angel that sent it staggering backwards.
As he picked up a discarded broadsword, Angel shouted back to Wesley. "Wes! Option 2! Haul ass!"
The Angel Investigations crew immediately knew what that meant, shouting for the girls to follow them as they hurriedly tried to funnel as many as they could into the basement. The Bringers started to descend into the hallway of the hotel as they prepared to attack, only to be met with gun shots from Lindsey and Kate, well-timed ax blows from Gunn and Giles, and a series of sword slices and powerful blows from Connor, Dawn and the remnants of Kate's crew.
Minutes into the battle, the White Hats were holding the line, but just barely. No matter how many Bringers they seemed to shoot, stab, decapitate or break the necks of, it seemed that there were 10 new ones waiting to take their place. Wave after wave of The First's minions poured into the lobby as they furiously took aim at the Keystone and any Potential Slayers they could get.
Buffy and Angel fought back to back as they took on as many Bringers at the front of the line as they could. But the minions were relentless, slicing and punching furiously at both fighters. As Buffy elbowed one on the face while driving her sword deep into the chest of another Bringer behind her, she spotted The Beast lumbering towards the lobby again, heading right for Cordelia and Xander, who were doing their best to fend off attacking Bringers.
"Angel, on your left!" she shouted frantically.
Snapping the neck of the Bringer he was fighting quickly, the souled vampire took a full-on leap as he jumped right into the stone creature's path.
"Going somewhere, Ugly?" Angel growled, his sword raised again.
"Yes," The Beast's voice graveled out, his deadly fists balled. "Right through you."
The creature swiped at Angel with a powerful blow, but only caught the air as the faster Angel ducked away from the blow. Angel took two hard whacks at the creature's face with his sword, but the metal clanged harmlessly off his hide, Angel's efforts only seeming to annoy the creature. Angel knew that his one chance was to get that bone knife that he used to kill it last time in the weapons cabinet, but he couldn't risk giving up that much ground to The Beast, or else he would be putting the vile creature perilously closer to Cordelia, Xander and the Keystone. All Angel could do at the moment was hold his own and buy them enough time to get out of there safely.
In the midst of her own battle with the Bringers, Buffy caught a glimpse of Jasmine/The First smiling silently in the background at the feet of the staircase. In an instant, the world fell away. She no longer saw the Bringers, even as she reflexively dispatched each one around her with ease. She no longer saw The Beast or Angel or her allies. Or the rubble around her.
All Buffy could see was The First.
All she could see was the thing that had been making her life a living hell for the last few months. The thing that nearly drove Angel, the man she loved, to kill himself. The thing that had tormented her friends and family. Had murdered young innocent girls just like her who were awaiting The Calling. Had stalked her dreams, filled her nightmares, threatened her world.
All Buffy could see…was her enemy. An enemy that she could now touch.
Could now hurt.
Her eyes filling with a purpose not seen since her last battle with Glory, Buffy slowly started to make her way through the carnage towards her foe. Ducking under one Bringer's knife swipe and stabbing it with her sword through the chest. Elbowing another one in the throat. Neatly slicing through the leg of another Bringer coming into her path, stepping over its body as it rolled around in agony.
And all the whole, Buffy never broke eye contact with the dark irises of her madly-grinning enemy.
Finally, only five feet separated them. Then three, then two. Her fist balling into a hard white knot, Buffy Summers, The Vampire Slayer, channeled every ounce of power, every drop of energy, every fiber of the ancient demon that gave the Slayer her incredible powers. The Chosen One hauled back, pretty mouth bared in a fierce snarl, and let loose everything she had into one deadly punch aimed at the face of Jasmine/The First…
K-RACK!
The wet, sickening sound of bone crunching on bone echoed in her ears. But the crunch Buffy Summers heard was not that of Jasmine/The First's cheeks caving in around her fist.
It was the sound of her own hand shattering on impact.
Buffy knew it was broken even before the cry of pain escaped her lips. Even before her nerve endings in her hand exploded in a brilliant flash of agony. Staggering backwards, clutching her broken and trembling hand, she winced as she tried to catch her bearings. But it was what she saw when she looked up that she found most terrifying.
Jasmine/The First. Standing there. Unblemished. Seemingly untouched. Smiling at her.
Smiling.
As if she liked it…the though ran across Buffy's panicked mind.
"Really?" Jasmine/The First replied, her brow raised, nonplussed by the heroine's effort. "That it for you?"
Buffy stood there, wide-eyed and, for the first time in a long while, truly afraid. She put everything she had into that punch. How was that thing still standing? How was it standing there and laughing at her?
Jasmine/The First pursed her lips together in mock pity at the wounded warrior. "Aww, don't tell me you're all done?"
As Buffy stood there in shocked silence, holding her wounded hand close to her chest, Jasmine/The First let out a sigh…
"Wait. Let me rephrase that…"
…and then Jasmine/The First suddenly fired its fist directly at Buffy's face.
It was a punch out of the gates of Hell itself, the impact jarring The Slayer's head violently to the right as the force of the blow sent Buffy flying through the air as if she was a children's doll being thrown by a late winter's wind. Her body made a sickening crunching sound as she collided with a nearby pillar, the plaster fracturing behind her as she fell to the ground.
The sight of their co-leader, the mighty Chosen One, their friend floored with one punch drew shock and fear across the heroes' faces.
"Buffy, no!" Xander cried out.
As the pain drowned her senses, her world spinning, Buffy's eyelids fluttered for one moment, letting out a small sigh as her head lolled slowly to the right…and then she passed out.
Jasmine/The First smiled in triumph, its eyes glowing a crimson red. "Now you're all done."
The sight of an unconscious Buffy distracted a now-panicked Angel from his battle with The Beast for one moment…
"BUFFY!" he shouted.
…And that moment was all The Beast needed, clamping his hand around Angel's throat and lifting him him high into the air.
"You cannot help her," the creature taunted as he squeezed a gagging Angel's windpipe. "Or yourself."
With that, he flung the souled vampire effortlessly through the air, Angel slamming back-first into the weapons cabinet. Angel tumbled to the ground, his back on fire and his vision starting to go blurry.
"ANGEL!" Cordelia cried out even as she fought off one of the Bringers. Xander managed to get up from behind it and cut it in half with an axe. But as the two made their way to help him up, Angel held up his hand, calling them off.
Dazed and bloodied, Angel looked up at a fretful Cordelia and Xander. "Kitchen," he ground out. "Hatch. Run. Now."
Cordelia hesitated. How could she leave him? "Angel…"
"Go," he insisted, his voice becoming harder. "Please…"
It only took Xander a moment to understand. He hated the thought of leaving Buffy at a time like this, but Angel had a point. The Keystone had to be protected. Without it, all was lost.
As the Beast lumbered towards them, taking its time, Xander grabbed Cordelia's arm. "Cordy…we gotta move."
Blinking back tears, Cordy relented as she grabbed the briefcase and took Xander's hand, the two former Sunnydale High alums sprinting away towards the kitchen as their friends fought for their lives.
Their two greatest champions down and out and the hordes of darkness closing in around them…
To Be Continued
Next: As Willow and the gang fight for survival in the forest, Buffy, Angel and the rest of the gang are faced with nearly-impossible odds as the newly-corporeal First Evil/Jasmine and its forces search for the Keystone. Have they met their match?
More to come soon! Happy holidays!
-Best,
Jean-the Guardian
