Bring Me to Life – A Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel Crossover Event

Part 35 – Exit Light, Enter Night, Part 3


Hyperion Hotel – Lobby

Now


"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty."

The sweet words uttered in an ominous, rough and demanding tone were enough to cause Buffy to stir as she lay amid the rubble of the pillar that her body had partially damaged while the battle raged on around her.

Her eyes slowly opening, she inhaled a sharp gasp of air.

Buffy's head was throbbing madly, and she could taste the copper tang of blood in her mouth, a thin, thick crimson stream dribbling down her chin. Her arms and legs felt like lead and her sore back was screaming for relief. Pain and grogginess making coherent thought a Herculean struggle. But through the fight to stay conscious and the jumbled mess of her thoughts, one question rang loudly in the back of her mind.

How the hell did she get so strong?

She didn't have long to mull that over. Before she knew it, a deadly vice-like grip clasped around her windpipe, making breathing terrifyingly impossible for a moment.

Gasping loudly for air, Buffy felt herself being hoisted off the floor. She desperately tried to dislodge the deadly hand clamped around her slender throat, but her shattered right hand was useless and her left hand was still too weak from the damage she just took.

All Buffy could do was stare in horror as she found herself face to face with Jasmine/The First. Her life literally in its hands.

"Hot damn! You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that," Jasmine/The First crowed, as if it had just discovered the rush of skydiving for the first time. "I mean, the schoolyard quips, the long-winded speechifying, the foiling of all those wonderful schemes, all the mopey do-gooder martyring about giving up a normal life…it made me wish I could rip off an appendage just to have something to throw at you sometimes."

"You're probably wondering how I hit you so hard, aren't you? Why I didn't even flinch beneath the fist of the dreaded Slayer? Well…by the looks of the doodles you've drawn on the walls here, it looks like maybe Mommy clued you in to my origin story. Good created evil...I know, trippy, right? But here's a pop quiz question for you, School Girl. What happens when one force of nature fuses with another force of nature? The answer…unstoppable."

Buffy couldn't offer a response, what little strength she had left being used to keep her enemy from choking her to death. A strangled cough and a pained gagging sound was all that fell from her lips.

"When I had my full power, I was the most powerful creature in existence. Those miserable Powers That Be trembled at even the thought of me. I killed dozens of their kind and only wanted more. So that punch to the noggin that has you so loopy? Just a warm up for me. Every second I use this body, I grow stronger. I can't help but to think of the irony, though," Jasmine/The First mused. "All this time, all those seconds and minutes and hours and days and weeks and eternities passing me by, trapped between all those realms and never being able to touch a single one, the one thing that I wanted most of all was the thing you animals take for granted. You grab and paw at each other in the throes of passion, in the heat of anger, the depths of sadness and despair, and I understood why you do it. I get it, Buffy, I do. All that time locked away in a prison between time and space by The Powers That Be, my own creators, it was the one thing I sought. The one thing I craved, that I yearned for. You want the same thing I wanted…"

A hint of sadness crept into its voice in a way that felt almost surreal to Buffy as Jasmine/The First spoke. "To feel."

Its next words, however, were heated as its grip on a wincing Buffy's throat tightened, causing her to gasp sharply, desperately seeking oxygen that was starting to become scarce for her lungs. "I wanted to feel. I wanted to put my hands on an innocent's neck and feel it crack. I wanted to bite off a young girl's face and feel the skin and gristle slither down my throat. And yet, you know what I felt when you hit me with all you had back there? What I feel now? The answer is simple, Buffy. It's nothing. Nothing. I thought it might have been the transformation at first. After all, the new body takes some getting used to. But then it hit me just now…well, as I was hitting you, that is. Nothing. It's all nothing. That's all of this is. Good, evil, the shades of gray, all the battles and sacrifices…in the end, it all means jack squat. None of it matters. None of you matter."

Jasmine/The First growled cruelly as it beheld her greatest enemy writhing pathetically in its hands. "I could crush you like you were paper and I wouldn't even need a manicure afterwards."

Buffy's eyes narrowed, even as she struggled to breathe, rasping out her defiant words. "Then…grrlk…why…don't you?"

"You still don't get it, do you?" Jasmine/The First scoffed. "This ends when I say it ends, little girl. Those precious ounces of air wheezing into your lungs are there because I allow it. I'm driving the bus now. And what good is getting to the last stop if all the other kids are asleep? So you get to watch. Watch as I start taking everything away that you love, that you hold dear, that makes you so damn sure of yourself every time you look in the mirror. Those little girls you fight so desperately to protect, your precious friends, your sweet little sister…even your precious Angel…I'll kill them all one-by-one until you're the last one left. And when you're on your knees, bleeding and hurting everywhere, begging for it to stop, for just a little bit of relief from your agony...I'll let you live just long enough to watch me wipe out everything. So you will understand the true depths of your failure. So you'll understand exactly what you are, what you've always been…nothing."

Its smile grew vicious. "Dream about that in your nightmares, baby."

And then Jasmine/The First drew Buffy in and planted a rough, savage kiss on her lips.

"MWWRR!" came the muffled cry of surprise and revulsion from Buffy's mouth, but it was smothered beneath the mocking, cold mouth of this foul creature that had her at its mercy.

There was no attraction or even lust behind the kiss. It was a message, and Buffy knew it. Jasmine/The First was letting her know that it could do whatever it wanted to her. And the part that made Buffy feel so frightened…was that it was right. She had hit it with her best shot, and her own strength was used against her. All she could do was to swat away and push at it, but to no avail.

The Slayer was all about power. And it was terrifyingly clear to Buffy at this moment that she was not the one with the power here.

The First Evil was.


Angeles National Forest—2 miles north of campsite

Same Time


"Oh, man, this craft is weak," Amy crowed. "Didn't you almost destroy the world one time?"

The battle between Willow and Amy shifted to the skies, the two Wiccan powerhouses floating roughly 500 feet in the air above the forest.

To the average onlooker, it would have appeared that thunderclouds were gathering above the wilderness. Only by a closer look could they see two powerful witches trading thunderbolts and hex spells in a battle for magickal supremacy.

Amy unleashed a wave of small black scarab-like bugs slowly covering Willow up, going up her chest, then over her hair, and then over her face as the creatures began to push in toward Willow's eyes.

Amy lashed out in front of her, purple magic energy trailing from her hand. She had Willow on the ropes, and she knew it. Growing cocky, she taunted her former Sunnydale High classmate. "Now you can't even put up a fight!"

The blonde witch's hands began to shimmer in purple pools of light and she prepared to deliver the final blow to a reeling Willow, who looked like she was on her last legs as Amy closed in for the kill…

Keyword: looked.

Suddenly, Amy realized that something was wrong. Very wrong. "Wait. What happened?"

Willow faced Amy, but rather than panic, the redhead had a calm, cool look in her eyes and a knowing smile that infuriated her foe.

Willow looked almost a little sad to be in this situation. "I saw the big picture. But, you, Amy… you're as self-involved as your mom was. You think I'm fighting you, but in reality? I'm just absorbing your mojo. So I can decode it.

And in that moment, Willow was no longer impassive. Her face contorting in exertion and concentration, The Wiccan powerhouse lashed out in fury. Shockwaves were rolling off her like a river, power and anger making her glow brilliantly in green and white light as she unleashed a mighty bolt of magick at Amy.

The blast could have leveled a building with no more trouble than a gust of wind would have knocking over a house of straw. But to her credit, Amy withstood it, her purple-hued mystical shields taking the brunt of the blast.

Deep down, Willow was starting to get worried. The tremendous energy she exerted in that blast took something out of the redhead, and she knew it. A year ago, she could have discharged that power without breaking a sweat. But quitting dark magick cold turkey for so long had left her rusty. If Amy could withstand that blast and had more in her tank, Willow knew she was in trouble.

But she'd never let Amy know that. "Ready to call it a night?" Willow said, smiling tightly as her eyes gleamed in determination.

As the bolt of light faded, Amy panted, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. But she forced herself to smirk. That shot nearly had her, she had to admit, but she'd be damned if she would show it to her hated rival. She had hoped Willow would have been much weaker thanks to her struggling to control her powers, but it appeared that her ex-classmate was as strong as ever.

"Nice trick, Ginger Snap," Amy smiled darkly. "But I haven't even warmed up yet."

"That makes two of us," Willow smirked.

"We'll see," Amy replied smugly.

"Okay, Amy, what's your secret?" Willow asked. "You were nowhere near this strong, even when I saw you the last time. You've been juicing, haven't you?"

Amy smirked darkly. "Let's just say, I've got some scary friends in high places...or, you know, some low, dark ones."

Willow frowned, troubled, as Amy's meaning dawned on her. "The First."

"What, you think you were the only one with powerful friends?" Amy chuckled dryly, deadly indigo sparks crackling around her hands. "It made me a deal that was just too good to pass up. And believe me, after a few weeks showering in fish poo water, anything looks good, but this was a sweet deal. Help it lay the smackdown on you and your buddies, and in exchange, I'd become one of the most powerful magick users on Earth. Nice, right?"

Her aura suddenly began to glow a deep purple, hints of a black, onyx energy coming from the center. Amy's smile was cold, mirthless. "I've been imbued with some of the darkest, blackest magicks there are. I'm stronger now than you ever were, even when you went all Darth Willow last year. The longer I use them, the stronger I get. And sweetie? Mama likes her some mojo."

Willow knew it was a long shot, but part of her hoped she could reason with Amy. Yeah, she had caused her share of mischief, mayhem, even, but that part of Willow that still remembered the friendly, pretty blonde with the shy smile from kindergarten that grew up with her through high school didn't want to believe that the same girl would be truly evil.

"I can't believe you've actually gone crazy enough to side with The First, Amy!" Willow demanded. Her green eyes sent Amy a pleading look. "There's still time to change your mind. It's not too late to walk away from this. Do you even know what The First Evil is? What it's planning to do?"

"Well, if I remember the Cliff Notes version of what it promised us...open the Eye of Creation, destroy all life as we know it, and rebuild everything in its own image," Amy replied bluntly. "That about right?"

The hope in Willow's heart faded as she saw the uncaring look in the other woman's blackened eyes.

"And you agreed to it?" Willow angrily replied. "Amy, you've done some bad things before, but you have to think about this. This is beyond bad...we're talking about genocide here."

"Mundicide, actually," Amy correctly nonchalantly. "Well, technically, it's more like chronocide, which is killing of time, but whatever, those -cide words are so weird. Hmm, I wonder if 'apple cide-r' means killing of apples, or if it's killing cider...?"

Willow stared at Amy like she was looking at her for the first time, a dreadful realization washing over the redhead as she eyed her former friend in astonishment.

"You're insane."

Those two words fanned sparks of fury that lit up in Amy's magically-darkened irises.

"No! No, no, no, hey —you want to know what's insane?" a defensive, furious Amy snapped. "Insane is letting other people tell you your place in the world when you could be running it. I spent my whole life letting my bitch of a mother run my life, and most of high school being everyone's punching bag, and now that I have the power, I'm going to make damn sure that nobody is ever going to step on me ever again!"

"Warren was right. I have been watching you. I saw that fight you had with your friends in The Magick Box last year. You took the Slayer, the baddest chick in the underworld, and you beat her ass. You wiped the floor with her. It wasn't even close. And then you nearly blew up the planet? For a second, I thought you were finally going to step up to the big time. To stop denying your real power, the real you."

Scowling, Willow shook her head, denying it. "That's not who I am. That's not the real-"

"Yes it is!" Amy shouted. "You have all this power, more than you deserve. And now that you have it, you-you don't even want it. You're running from it. Hiding! Holding back, playing by other people's rules, letting others tell you what you should be. People like you and I aren't meant to be controlled, Willow. People like us, we're above everyone else! Rules don't apply to us, we should be making the rules."

"You're wrong." Willow's voice was tight with authority. "We're not above the law, Amy. We-we can't just go around killing people whenever we want!"

"Oh?" Amy cruelly smiled at the redhead, as if she knew some sort of sordid secret about her. "And how'd that work out for you? You tried it Buffy's way. You went to college like a good girl, did the Dudley Do-Right shtick, played by their rules, and what happened?"

"You knew Warren was dangerous," Amy baited her, the tone in her voice ripe with accusation. "You had the power to get rid of him when he was going after Buffy, hell, maybe part of you knew you should have gotten rid of him. But you didn't. All that power at your fingertips, and you did nothing. You just stood by, and your best friend ended up with a bullet in her chest. And what happened to Tara? The woman you loved died bleeding in your arms, drowning in her own blood. You could have saved her if you had acted sooner, but instead, your insistence on playing by these rules...cost Tara her life. Hell, you might as well have pulled the damn trigger yoursel-"

"SHUT UP!" Willow barked angrily, blinking back tears that threatened to fall, her voice echoing in dark power.

A cold chuckle escaped Amy's lips as she shook her head at her rival. "Same old Willow. Trying to pretend that you can be a normal girl, but you're not. You haven't changed. All this power, and you're still just the sidekick to the Slayer. Still hiding behind Buffy's skirt, just like in high school."

At that moment, Willow decided she had enough. It was clear that Amy was beyond reasoning, and frankly, Willow was done talking.

The training Giles and Willow had done over the summer taught her restraint, taught her control, taught her to put the safety valve on the magick within. But make no mistake, under the surface, held back by the safety valve of control and restraint, the primal, deadly power inside her now was always growing, expanding, always churning. Alive. Angry. Hot. Boiling. Always looking for a way out.

Letting her eyes flood into onyx pools, Willow steeled herself with a deep, sharp breath…and kicked the safety valve right off the hinges.

Her voice was an angry echo out of Hell. "School's out, bitch."


"I heard about you," Warren taunted Oz as he fired another bolt of red plasma energy from his deadly laser gun. "The wolf kid, right?"

Oz barely managed to duck out of the way, his speed allowing him to duck the bolt as it pulverized the trees behind them leaving the bark splintered and partially scorched.

"Yeah, Amy told me all about you. Said you were the last boyfriend Rosenberg had before she decided to play for the other team," Warren chuckled tauntingly, the machine gears angrily spinning as his weapon primed for another blast. "What happened, Fido? Weren't enough manimal for the bitch that she got bored driving stick altogether?"

It didn't take Oz long to figure out Warren. He was vain, liked to talk, his pride and ego easily bruised and quick to anger. Oz smiled. I can work with that.

Setting his feet as he got into a defensive fight stance, Oz smiled coolly, recalling one tidbit of information that Willow shared with him about Warren's sordid history in the last few days. "Better than needing mind-control to get a date, right?"

His smile twisting into a teeth-baring snarl, Warren angrily fired another blast at Oz, who swiftly darted out of the bolt's path as it lay waste to another row of trees behind him.

"Hey, look…I know you like your shiny Flash Gordon-ray-gun-of-doom-thing…" Oz said as he ducked another blast.

"Which, I have to admit, kinda cool…" Oz casually admitted as vanished away from another deadly laser bolt.

"But guy-to-guy…" Another blast shattered the wooden trees.

"Don't you think…" PCHOOM!

"It's kinda sad…" P-CHOOM!

"That you're getting more wood than what your last girlfriends let you give them?"

An angry, strangled cry of frustration ripped from Warren's throat as he fired off shot after shot but kept missing his intended target as Oz moved deftly and swiftly around each laser blast. But with each blast, Oz continued to circle in closer and closer. At last, when he was just five feet within Warren's range, Oz showed his hand…literally.

The fingers on his right hand morphing into lethal claws—wolf's claws—Oz took a wild swipe at Warren, drawing blood as his paw scraped across Warren's right arm. The deranged genius screeched in pain, dropping his cannon onto the ground, the burnt metallic smell of blood and magick peppering Oz's nose. Not wasting his moment, Oz—still keeping the rest of his human form—landed a kick square in Warren's gut before landing a solid right cross against his foe's left cheek, sending Warren tumbling across the ground.

Before Warren even had a chance to finish his pained moan, Oz was already crouched over the top of him, the former Scooby's hand firmly latched onto his throat.

"Friendly advice?" Oz said, his lips set in a firm line, his blue eyes flashing in an uncharacteristic menace. "Give up."

Little did he suspect that by getting this close to Warren, Oz had fallen right into the trap the former Trio leader had concocted just for him. After getting briefed on Buffy's new allies by The First, Warren had logically deduced that Oz would likely be accompanying Willow into the forest. And having been briefed on Oz's supernatural status, Warren had devised a special device just for the occasion.

But Oz had no way of knowing that. Which is why the sick giggle Warren responded with confused him.

"Bad dog," Warren smiled…right before his left hand swiftly reached up and clamped a small, blinking metal disk onto the back of Oz's neck.

Suddenly, Oz let out a cry of pain, his head feeling like someone had drilled a hole in it and poured a quart of battery acid into his brain. His vision began to fade between colors and a deep, dark red, the entire world vibrating violently before his eyes as he fell to the ground, convulsing in agony.

He could feel his fingers start to involuntarily change into large canine tendrils, claws and fur emerging, and something violent and uncontrollable start taking over him. No…no, no, no…Willow…I can't….control it…!

Warren's smile was unfeeling. "Heel."


Willow and Amy continued their battle as they fired bolts at one another. Willow was starting to get red hot, unleashing more and more of her power with every bolt and hex. And truth be told…part of her was starting to like it.

That's what terrified her.

She knew what could happen if she lost control. If she delved too deeply in the dark side of her powers. She didn't want to go back to being the coldhearted, murderous creature she became last year in a moment of grief and anguish. That's not who she was, and she knew it. But she knew that she couldn't beat Amy if she held back. She had grown too powerful.

That much was evident after her latest attack, a thunderbolt hex that Amy withstood, her shields holding steady.

Amy smiled arrogantly. "Now you're starting to make this interesting. What else you got?"

"You don't want to know," Willow said warningly.

"Oh, but I do," Amy taunted. "Come on…go dark. Bring out the other you. Show me the baddest bitch on the planet. You know you want to."

"No," Willow ground out, her eyes narrowed and her pupils black. Her hand was throbbing, twitching with the urge to use magicks she knew of that people had only ever had nightmares about.

"No?" Amy smirked. "You're gonna have to, sweetie. You're not gonna stand a chance against me holding back."

"Forget it, Amy. I don't need to go dark to beat you," Willow said. "It's gonna take a lot more than this B-movie cliché trap you set up for me to make me lose control."

Off Amy's harsh laugh, Willow's look of resolve became one of confusion.

"Oh, you mean this trap? I'm surprised at you, Willow. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one of the bunch. You're half right, it is a trap."

Amy's smile was full of wickedness as she revealed the ruse. "It just wasn't meant for you."

The realization of what Amy meant hit Willow swiftly and cruelly as her enemies' intentions became clear. Willow gasped as she uttered one word:

"Buffy."

"Ding-ding-ding! We have a winner!" Amy laughed, her voice dripping with malice. "My pals are storming that posh little hotel where her pet vampire lives even as we speak. The Big Boss figured having you in the way would have complicated things, so I was only too happy to stir up some complications of my own. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist coming up here for a shot at me. But hey, bonus points for bringing along the other Slayer, Oz and that blond vamp. That was a bonus. Betcha Buffy's wishing she had those big guns around right about now, huh?"

Willow's heart raced in anger. "You planned this. All along. You-you-you wanted me to come out here, so I could leave them without protection. You set me up, you bitch!"

"Tsk-tsk, language, language," Amy taunted. "Don't hate the player, Willow. Hate the game. It's not my fault that you were so gullible as to take the bait and leave your friends without their deadliest weapon. That's on you. I can't help but wonder—if Buffy dies a third time, which she probably already has by now, does one of those geeky schoolgirls become the new Slayer, or does it just mean you guys have another Summers family funeral to plan?"

That did it.

The veins in her head started throbbing, pulsating, becoming visible on the outside as a web of them started to appear on her face. The roots in her hair began to darken, slowly changing from their bright strawberry red hue into a poisonous, thick midnight black. The color of death. The color of power. Willow had been struggling the whole time to keep the monster locked in the box, to keep her from taking over. To maintain control. But she didn't want to control it anymore. Her rage rising, her will slipping, Willow dug down, unlocked the hinges, and let the monster out of her cage.

A violent shriek erupted from her mouth as she unloaded on Amy with the biggest magickal bolt she had. Overwhelmed, Amy was stunned as the sheer force, the unyielding power broke through her shields and jolted her with searing heat and pain. The bolt sent her plummeting down from the sky, crashing through tree branches and she hit the ground with an impact so fierce that she caused a small crater to form where she landed.

Amy coughed, trying to get her bearings, when she rolled over…and found herself staring into the furious, raven-black eyes of Willow. No…not Willow.

Dark Willow.

Despite the situation, Amy couldn't help but to laugh as she stared up at this specimen of untamed, unrestrained Wiccan power incarnate. "Now, there's my girl—ack!"

Dark Willow roughly grabbed her by the throat and held her up in the air. Her voice was a bass-like echo of fury and inhuman power. "I should peel you like a grape!"

"Like Warren?" Amy smiled weakly, even as a trickle of blood poured from her left nostril and her voice rasped in her rival's grip. "Come on. Do it. Be the monster. This is what you really are. Always has been. No rules. No limits. Show me your power."

"You want to see my power?" Dark Willow thundered. Her free hand began to crackle with deadly dark energy.

Some small part of her, the part that was still Willow, knew that she should stop, but as she stared into the mad eyes of her former friend who had plotted to kill the ones she loved, whatever objections Willow might have had were rendered mute. There was only the need to punish. The need for revenge.

Dark Willow raised the deadly hand, energy pouring from it and reared back for a deadly blow. Her smile was cold, mirthless. "Don't blink, Amy. You only get to see it once."

Suddenly, she felt herself being tackled to the ground, knocking Amy free from her grip. Something large, furry and heavy was growling at her, snapping its jaws as it attempted to bite at her jugular. Dark Willow managed to get her senses back and stared up in shock at the identity of her assailant…

Oz.

In full werewolf mode. Snarling, growling and biting rabidly.

Dark Willow stared at the creature in surprise, groaning as she struggled to keep the heavy wolf at bay. "Oz? OZ! What are you-?"

"Sorry, Rosenberg," Warren smugly taunted as he emerged from the shadows, the balding flesh-stripped man holding some kind of remote control device. "I had to borrow your dog for a little while. Gotta say…he's a frisky one."


Hyperion Hotel – Lobby

Now


Angel crawled slowly across the floor, coughing and grabbing at his ribs, which he could definitely sense were broken again after The Beast hurled him like a horseshoe across the length of the corridor into the weapons cabinet. Swords, bows and weapons of all kinds lay strewn everywhere, the shelves in the cabinet tilted and splintered.

"Still weak," The Beast taunted him, slowly taking each step towards Angel's crawling form. The rock creature had been waiting to see his hated rival humbled before his might, and now that the moment had come, he wanted to revel in it. "Your compassion has made you soft, Angelus. It's exposed you. Made you vulnerable. Pitiful. Whereas I…am stronger than ever."

Blocking out his words, Angel kept inching towards the pile of fallen weapons just a few feet from him. One, in particular caught his eye. The bone knife. The dagger forged from The Beast's very bones which he had used to kill it weeks ago. It did the job then, and Angel was willing to bet it would do the job now. It had to.

Come on, Angel, he thought to himself, grunting as he willed his way towards the knife with each torturous lunge. Man up, just a little further

The Beast smirked at his efforts. "Do you really think your primitive tools will be enough to stop me?"

His fingers finally reaching the handle, Angel groaned back a reply. "No…but I'm betting the right tool will."

Drawing on his reserves, Angel concentrated his effort into one move as he grabbed the handle, pivoted his torso, sat up and used both hands to drive the deadly knife that slayed the creature once before high up into The Beast's stomach…

…upon which it snapped in half, the blade breaking off and clattering harmlessly to the floor.

Dread shot up Angel's spine as a look of shock overtook his handsome face. Oh, crap…

The Beast, unharmed, chuckled darkly. "Like I told you before…" He suddenly grabbed Angel by the throat. "I'm stronger than ever."

With a fierce heave, The Beast threw Angel with one hand across the room and into the side of the staircase. Angel landed in a folded up sitting position, blood pouring from his mouth from the internal bleeding.

"Angel!" came Gunn's shout as he dispatched the Bringer he was fighting with a vicious ax swipe to the throat. Running towards The Beast, Gunn set his jaw as he stopped just sort of the creature, which now had his attention. Gunn's fierce stare never faltered. "You and me, Gruesome! Let's go!"

He struck The Beast several times in the face, stomach and legs, but the creature still stood, not a scratch on him. Gunn reared his ax back and tried for the face again, only for the bored Beast to bat away his ax, then grab Gunn by the throat and tossing him several feet in the air, the demon fighter landing shoulder-first into an opposite wall and crashing to the ground in pain.

"Charles, no!" cried Fred, who ran over to him in concern. She hurriedly checked him for injuries, but she didn't have much time to help him before The Beast started stalking towards her, the ground vibrating with each step it took.

Just as it started closing in on a terrified Fred and an injured Gunn, Giles started whacking away at it with his sword.

"Run! Find the others!" Giles shouted as he tried to keep the creature at bay.

But The Beast was too powerful, eventually knocking Giles away with a simple backhanded swat that threw the Watcher crashing over the reception desk, the computer and paperwork on it crashing down on top of him.

Seeing none left standing to challenge him, The Beast smiled as it turned back to Angel. "I could crush you to dust right now, Angelus. But you have a reprieve for now. After all," it said as it turned its eyes towards the hallway where Cordelia and Xander had fled through, "you're not the one I now seek."

Angel glared at it defiantly as he tried desperately to get up, but his legs failing him. "Leave them alone…you…bastard," he hissed out through the pain. "Touch Cordelia and I'll…kill you."

Dismissively, it lumbered towards the kitchen.

"Cordy!" Angel shouted desperately as he lay wounded, unable to do anything but watch the monster slowly stalk after his Seer with nothing to stop it.


Hyperion Hotel – Kitchen

Now


Cordelia hurriedly pulled Xander towards the kitchen, scrambling around knocking over pots and shoving entire filled cabinets to the floor as she hurriedly searched for something.

"Uh, Cordy, not to complain about spring cleaning, but do you really think now's the best time to start sprucing up the place?" Xander quipped hurriedly, looking over his shoulder as he clutched his sword.

"I'm not cleaning, dumbass," Cordelia snapped. "I'm looking for the escape lever."

"Escape lever?"

"Uh-huh," Cordelia said, shoving a pile of cans out of the pantry above the stove. "Before it became haunted, the guy who built the hotel was a big Cold War paranoia freak. Thought for sure that Russia was gonna blow up the world. So he designed a bunch of labyrinths and bomb shelters underneath the place. One of them is an escape hatch he built into the kitchen. Which we should be going through if I remembered where the damn lever is!"

Frustrated, Cordelia flung one of the cans against the wall.

Xander, taking pity on her, tried to placate her. "We'll find it, Cordy. But you need to calm down and focus. Okay? I can't do this without you."

Cordelia's eyes started shining with unshed tears. "I left him, Xander. Angel. I'm supposed to have his back and I just…I just…"

"You just did what he told you to do," Xander corrected her gently. "I hate leaving Buffy back there, too, but Angel's right. If The First gets its hands on that crystal, we're all screwed."

"But Angel, he's…"

"He'll be fine," Xander insisted, taking hold of her shoulders and looking her in the eyes. "This is what they do, remember? They've been in tougher jams than this and still beat the bad guys. They're counting on us now. So you need to focus and do our part. You can do this, Cor. Okay?"

Sniffling, Cordelia managed a watery smile at him. "Okay."

"That's my…er, thatagirl." Xander swallowed as he corrected himself. This was not the time to see where that rabbit hole led.

Shaking it off, Cordelia kept rummaging until she found a lever lying behind one of the pan racks.

"Come on, baby," she prayed under her breath as she pulled it.

When the tiles near the oven started to shift and move, revealing an open hole with a ladder leading down from it, the pair exclaimed in delight.

Xander picked up the briefcase and handed it to Cordelia. "Come on, we've gotta move before Rock Face shows his mug around—"

BOOM!

The wall of the kitchen suddenly exploded as The Beast burst through the plaster, sending utensils and wall fragments bursting everywhere. Cordelia shrieked in terror while Xander stared nervously at the giant.

Xander gulped. "…here."

Growling, the creature started towards Cordelia, which drew Xander's instincts back. Grunting, he struck at The Beast with hard sword swings, but his hacks were easily deflected off its nearly-inpregnable stone hide.

"Cordy! Run! Get out of here!" Xander shouted at her as he fought.

"No! Not without you!" a wide-eyed Cordelia shouted back.

Xander threw her a pleading look. "Don't argue with me! You have to—"

His sentence was cut off as The Beast grabbed him and threw him head first into the other side of the kitchen wall. The force and his body weight sent Xander right through the wall.

"Xander!" Cordelia screamed in horror.

The Beast turned to her and smiled ominously as it slowly backed her up into the wall. Trembling, Cordelia felt her nerve leave her, paralyzed with fear as the creature wrapped its hand around her throat, lifting her into the air. Her life began to flash before her eyes as she was certain these were her last moments on Earth. Amid the many presents at Christmas growing up, and the endless string of male suitors and cheerleading competitions, she found her happiest memories to be a different kind.

Helping Xander, Willow, Buffy, Oz and Giles research in the library at Sunnydale High before sundown…

Patrolling in the moonlit cemeteries with The Scoobies after dark and stealing kisses from Xander in between staking a vampire or two...

Firing up coffee while she perused databases with Wesley and Angel as they attempted to solve a case...

Helping Angel change Connor's diapers...

Battling side-by-side with Angel, Wesley, Gunn, Fred and Lorne as they faced down a nest of deadly fungus demons...

Kissing Xander in the midnight hour after she cried on his shoulder for all the horrors committed in her stolen body…

The Beast leered at her as it trailed a hand down her body slowly, which made her skin crawl…right before it plucked the briefcase from her hand.

"No! Give…it…back!" Cordelia protested.

"Such courage for one so beautiful," The Beast smirked. "Fear not, my dear, I only want the Keystone. For now, you shall not be harmed…"

And then it threw her against the wall, her head striking first. Cordelia slumped to the floor in a haze of pain.

"…well, not much," the Beast laughed as it walked out of the kitchen, the Keystone in its possession.

Just before she slipped into unconsciousness, Cordelia could only think one thought that floated miserably through the fog of her mind. I failed them…again…Xander…Angel…I'm so sorry…


Hyperion Hotel – Lobby

Moments ago


Everything hurt. His back, his legs, his ribs and arms.

Reaching down deep, Angel tried to find the will to stand up. To stand and fight. But his body was failing him and he could barely keep from collapsing in exhaustion.

And then to the corner of his eye, he saw Jasmine/The First kissing Buffy. The woman he loved, bleeding and helpless, struggled in desperation as her eyes shut tight in disgust.

Something primal awoke inside Angel at the sight...

...and before he knew it, his vampire face emerged.

Everything still hurt, but the demon in him didn't care, seeing only the woman who changed his life in distress.

Finding a second wind, Angel sprang to his feet, grabbed a discarded sword and let out a roar of fury as he leapt across the room. His blade was raised high as he descended down onto Jasmine/The First with a deadly swipe of his sword…

…which broke on impact like glass as it shattered atop its head.

Breaking off its kiss to Buffy, Jasmine/The First smiled like a cat cornering a canary as it stared at the shocked vampire.

"Jealous, handsome?" it grinned lasciviously at Angel. "Don't worry…there's plenty of me to go around."

With that, Jasmine/The First grabbed Angel by the throat with its free hand and tossed him all the way up so hard that he crashed right into the ceiling, back-first, and bounced back towards the ground, landing with a vicious thud on the ground.

All Buffy could do was stare in horror as the man she loved lay beaten in a pile of fallen plaster that fell with him.

"ANGEL!" she managed to scream with what little breath she had, her foe's unbreakable grip still holding her by the throat several feet in the air.

Chuckling, Jasmine/The First turned back to her. "Like little porcelain people. You all break so easily."

Its smile suddenly grew with wicked intent. "Like this."

With that, Jasmine/The First swung Buffy's legs up into the air, grabbing them with its free hand as it raised the injured and bloodied Slayer overhead like a trophy for one frightening moment…

..and then brought Buffy's back down in one violent, swift motion over its knee.

The snap of vertebrae and the cracking of ribs echoed loudly in the corridor. Pain erupted violently up Buffy's back and her sides, and then…

Nothing.

As he lay beaten in the rubble, Angel could do nothing but watch in horror and desperation as the darkest evil known to man broke the woman he loved before his very eyes. "NO!"

For a few split, surreal moments, Buffy didn't feel...

...anything...

...couldn't hear anything...

...or see anything...

...not the worried screams of Giles, Gunn and Fred...

...not the cry of agony and fear that came from her fallen lover's lips...

...not even the sight of Jasmine/The First grinning sickeningly in triumph...

Buffy's mouth hung open in an invisible scream, but not a sound came out as she lay broken across the creature's knee.

Her eyes were wide in pain and horror, yet she couldn't register anything but one thought...

I…lost?

Bored, Jasmine/The First let out a sigh. "I expected more."

It let Buffy's broken body slide off its knee, but just before Buffy could hit the ground, its left foot shot out swiftly and kicked the Slayer so hard that her body flew through the air like a soccer ball and landed in the middle of the lobby, skidding to a halt after a good five feet.

The injuries finally took their toll on Buffy, pain once again drowning her until her world faded to black.

"Buffy…" Angel choked out, desperately trying to crawl towards her.

Jasmine/The First showed him no pity. "Aww, worried about your girlfriend, Hunkalicious? Okay…go and join her."

With that, it kicked Angel up off the ground and sent him flying towards the lobby, Angel landing about five feet from where an unconscious Buffy lay.

"ANGEL!" Fred cried out.

Gunn, Fred and Giles descended onto both fallen heroes, Giles worriedly cradling Buffy's head in his lap while Gunn and Fred tended to a beaten and bruised Angel, who was fading fast.

All they could do was helplessly stare up at the awesome force of nature standing at the foot of the stairs, gloating in triumph.

Jasmine/The First smirked. "So…who's got next?"


To Be Continued...


Next: The conclusion to the Battle in Los Angeles. With Buffy and Angel down, can our heroes survive against the might of a seemingly unbeatable First Evil? An ending you don't want to miss!


Next chapter drops on Sunday, December 5. But if I get enough reviews, I could drop it sooner. Please review and follow!


Best,

Jean-theGuardian

P.S. Hey, Jason, cute comment...Go Fuck Yourself ;)