Summary: Buffy has returned from Narnia pregnant with Peter's child and her life will never be the same again.
Pairing: Buffy/Peter (mentions only) Buffy/Faith - yes Buffy is going to be bisexual.
A/U: Set during seasons 6 and 7 and between Narnia 1: The Buffy Chronicles and Narnia 2: The Dawn Chronicles.
Disclaimer: Disney owns Buffy. The C.S. Lewis Estate owns the Chronicles of Narnia.
Chapter 1: Bargaining
October 1, 2001 – Monday
Xander's Apartment
Willow, Tara, Anya, and Xander were gathered in the dimly lit sitting area of Xander and Anya's apartment. The mood was thick with tension, casting a heavy shadow over the room. Nervous energy crackled in the air like an impending storm.
Willow cradled the urn delicately in her hands, her fingers trembling with a mix of reverence and fear. Her gaze remained fixed on the ancient artifact, and her eyes held a deep, sorrowful weight.
"The Urn of Osiris," Tara whispered, her voice trembling with a hint of awe and trepidation as she cast a cautious glance at the urn.
Willow slowly raised her head to meet Anya's gaze, her expression a blend of gratitude and concern. "You really found it," she said, her voice hushed, as if afraid that speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile hope they were clinging to.
Anya shifted uncomfortably; her features etched with the strain of their secret endeavor. "It wasn't easy," she admitted, her voice carrying a touch of guilt. "I went through every supplier The Magic Box has."
Willow's eyes widened in alarm, a mixture of panic and disbelief flashing across her face. She turned her attention back to the urn, her mind racing with the implications of their actions. "You used a Magic Box supplier?" Her voice quivered with anxiety as she considered the consequences. "What if Giles finds out?"
"He's too busy not leaving to pay attention to me," Anya replied, her voice carrying a hint of bitterness.
Tara's eyes widened in disbelief; her eyebrows arched in surprise. "You found the last known Urn of Osiris on eBay?" Her voice was tinged with incredulity, unable to fathom the idea of such a priceless artifact being sold on an online marketplace.
Anya nodded, her lips curling into a sly grin. "Yeah, from this Desert Gnome in Cairo." She chuckled, though the humor didn't quite reach her eyes. "He drove a hard bargain, but I finally got him to throw in a limited-edition Backstreet Boys lunch box for—"
Xander cleared his throat loudly, a pointed interruption that sliced through Anya's sentence like a blade.
"—a friend," Anya finished hastily, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush that betrayed the truth.
"You got your somber on, Will. The urn not up to spec?" Xander interjected, his attempt at levity a fragile shield against the gravity of the moment.
Willow exchanged a meaningful glance with Tara, their eyes locked in an unspoken understanding. "It's the one," she affirmed, her voice steady as she turned to face Xander and Anya. "Which means it's time."
Xander blinked, a perplexed furrow forming on his forehead. "It's time?" He echoed; his voice laced with uncertainty. "Like, time, time? With the... timeliness?"
Anya's gaze bore into Willow, her eyes searching for confirmation. "Are you sure?" She asked, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and anxiety.
Willow nodded resolutely, her determination shining through. "I am."
Tara's eyes flicked to the window, her thoughts momentarily drifting to the cosmic forces at play. "Mercury's in retrograde, and we have—do we have everything?" Her voice held a touch of concern, the uncertainty of their mission still looming over them like a dark cloud.
Willow took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the urn, ready to embrace the unknown. "Just about," she replied.
"But why the sudden rushy-rush? Did the bot blow her cover at school?" Xander's voice held a note of skepticism, his concern for their secret plan evident in his furrowed brows.
Tara shook her head, her eyes reflecting a sense of relief. "No, she did great. She impressed all the teachers."
Xander raised an eyebrow, still struggling to grasp the full extent of their deception. "And they still thought it was Buffy?" His skepticism lingered, casting a shadow of doubt over their audacious plan.
Willow began to lay out the details of their plan, her voice carrying a sense of urgency. "Tomorrow night. We'll meet here at—"
But Xander cut her off abruptly, his voice tinged with caution and disbelief. "Whoa!" His words hung heavy in the room, a reminder of the gravity of their actions. "Let's apply the brake and check rear and side mirrors here! This is deep stuff, Willow. We're talking about raising the dead."
Willow's gaze remained unwavering; her determination unshaken by Xander's reservations. "And it's time to stop talking. Tomorrow night, we're bringing Buffy back," she declared.
"Tomorrow," Anya repeated, her uncertainty apparent in her voice, her gaze shifting uneasily.
Xander's hesitation persisted, his voice tinged with doubt. "I don't know..."
Anya, seemingly undeterred by the gravity of the situation, made a half-hearted attempt at humor. "Discovery Channel has monkeys," she suggested with a forced smile. "And our tape machine's sorta wonky—"
Willow's patience was wearing thin, and she interjected with a sense of urgency. "Guys," she urged, her tone firm and unwavering. "I need you guys on board here."
Xander's moral dilemma continued to gnaw at him, and he confessed his reservations. "It just... it feels wrong," he admitted, his voice laced with uncertainty.
Tara, much to Willow's surprise, openly acknowledged the wrongness of their actions. Willow shot her a look of disbelief, not expecting such candor. "It is wrong," Tara confirmed, her voice steady. "It's against all the laws of nature and practically impossible to do, but it's what we agreed to. If you guys are changing your minds—"
But Willow cut Tara off abruptly, her determination unwavering and resolute. "Nobody's changing their minds," she declared with finality, her gaze moving from one friend to another, daring them to challenge the path they had chosen.
"Excuse me," Xander said, his voice carrying a touch of defensiveness. "Who made you the boss of the group?"
Anya chimed in, ever the one to recall details. "You did," she reminded him, her tone matter-of-fact.
Tara added her voice to the chorus of reminders. "You said 'Willow should be boss,'" she recalled, her eyes filled with understanding.
Anya continued the recounting of events. "And then you said 'Let's vote' and it was unanimous," she pointed out, her words emphasizing their collective decision.
Tara couldn't resist adding a playful detail. "You made her that little plaque that said 'BOSS OF US,' you put on sparkles," she recalled, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
Xander nodded, conceding the point. "Valid points all. But we — I mean, we were just talking then..."
"I can do this, Xander. I promise," Willow affirmed, her voice filled with determination. "But not without you."
Anya, ever the practical thinker, suggested an alternative course of action. "Should we maybe tell Giles?" she questioned. "Now that we're really ready? It's not like he's going anywhere — ever..."
Willow shook her head firmly, her gaze unwavering. "No. No one else can know. Not Giles, not Spike, not Dawn. They might not understand—"
Tara's voice quivered with concern as she voiced her own worries. "And if something does go wrong—"
But Willow cut her off with unwavering confidence. "I'm telling you it won't."
Xander, ever the realist, couldn't help but inject a touch of humor into the discussion. "Scenario: We raise Buffy from the grave," he began with a wry grin. "She tries to eat our brains. Do we, 'A': congratulate ourselves on a job well done—"
Willow didn't entertain the hypothetical scenario, her tone serious as she interrupted him. "This isn't Zombies, Xander," she stated firmly, underscoring the gravity of their mission.
"Zombies don't eat brains anyway," Anya clarified matter-of-factly. "Unless instructed to by their Zombie masters. Lotta people get that wrong."
Willow nodded in agreement. "This isn't like Dawn trying to bring back Mrs. Summers or anything we've dealt with before," she emphasized. "Buffy didn't die a natural death. She was killed by mystical energy."
Tara offered a glimmer of hope. "Which means we do have a shot," she said, trying to bolster their spirits.
Willow's anxiety was palpable as she continued. "It means more than that. It means we don't know where she really is."
Xander, his voice tinged with frustration, reminded them of the painful reality they had faced. "We saw her body, Will," he said. "We buried it."
Willow's emotions threatened to overwhelm her, tears glistening in her eyes as she spoke with fervor. "Her body, yeah, but her soul, her essence — that could be somewhere else, trapped in some Hell dimension like Angel was. Suffering some eternal torment that we can't even imagine just because she saved us and I am not gonna let her…" Her voice quivered, her determination unyielding. "I'm not gonna leave her there." She collected herself, her eyes locked onto Xander's. "It's Buffy."
There was a heavy silence that hung in the room, the weight of their shared mission settling upon them like an unspoken oath.
Finally, Xander broke the silence, his voice filled with resolve. "What time do we meet?" he asked, a simple question that held the promise of their unwavering loyalty to each other and Buffy.
October 2, 2001 – Tuesday
Streets of Sunnydale
As the pack of demons roared down the road on their menacing motorcycles, their otherworldly presence sent shivers down the spines of anyone unfortunate enough to witness their dark procession. The cacophony of their engines echoed through the night, drowning out all other sounds.
They swiftly passed the weathered sign that stood at the city limits, boldly declaring, "WELCOME TO SUNNYDALE."
Cair Paravel, Narnia
Buffy awoke with a headache and her stomach cramping up. As she became aware of her surroundings, she was hit with a feeling of loss as if something was missing. She sat up, a deep sense of emptiness gripping her heart, and her eyes welled up with unshed tears.
There was a knock at her door, and she called for them to enter, her voice trembling with anxiety.
"Mr. Tumnus?" she asked in confusion, her voice laced with a mix of fear and uncertainty.
"My lady," Mr. Tumnus said with a bow, his usual warmth replaced by a solemn formality that sent a shiver down her spine.
"What's going on? Is Peter back yet?" She saw the nervous shift of his eyes, and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She got out of bed, her movements quick and urgent. "Mr. Tumnus, what's going on?"
"Your presence is required in the throne room," he told her, avoiding her gaze, his voice heavy with sorrow.
"Close the door," she told him, her voice commanding.
He obliged, watching as she grabbed the first dress she could find, moving behind the changing divider. Her hands trembled as she dressed, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts.
"I need to know what I'm walking into, Mr. Tumnus. Don't lie to me. Did something happen to Peter? Or one of the others?"
"Phillip has returned, alone," he replied, his voice quivering with emotion.
"From where?" she asked, her heart pounding in her chest. Phillip usually only allowed her to ride him.
"He allowed Edmund to ride him during the hunt," he informed her, his words heavy with a sense of foreboding.
Buffy stilled, her hands trembling as she poked her head out from behind the divider to stare at him. "What do you mean he returned alone? Where is everyone?"
"Gone, Buffy," Mr. Tumnus told her, his voice breaking, tears rolling down his cheeks. "They're gone."
Buffy's eyes widened as she pulled her head back to finish changing. When she was done, she stepped towards Mr. Tumnus. Her heart pounded in her chest, and a sense of dread washed over her. "What do you mean, gone?" she asked, her tone deadly, her voice laced with fear that sent shivers down her spine.
Mr. Tumnus gulped, knowing she wouldn't hurt him but scared nonetheless. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he stammered, "According to Phillip, they all stopped at the light post and were speaking of Spare Oom. They went to investigate and didn't come back, they vanished. I'm so sorry, my lady, but everyone is in the throne room trying to figure out what to do. You are the last remaining Royal."
Her head spun, the pounding returning tenfold as she heavily sat on the bed, trying to absorb everything. Her husband and siblings-in-law were gone, vanished into thin air. The talking of the light post and Spare Oom had Buffy thinking that they had returned to their own place and time. She pushed back the tears, her heart aching with grief and disbelief. She always knew there was a minute chance of this happening but it was too soon. They couldn't be gone. Not her family. What was she going to do? She couldn't be in charge of Narnia.
She gasped as her stomach cramped more and she doubled over, clutching her abdomen in pain. "The baby," she whispered, her voice filled with both fear and determination. "But it's not time. I'm not due for another four months."
And then she heard a voice, a voice she couldn't quite place, but it sounded familiar, nor could she make out what the voice was saying. Taking a deep breath, she pushed everything down, her emotions buried beneath a facade of strength. She had a kingdom to look after, she had to get this sorted out, and once that was done, then would she try to figure everything else out.
"Lead the way," she quietly told Mr. Tumnus, standing up and ignoring the wave of dizziness that threatened to overwhelm her. Her determination to save Narnia and protect her unborn child pushed her forward.
He looked at her uncertainly before nodding, leading the way out of the room.
Restfield Cemetery
Tara, Xander, and Anya gathered around Buffy's grave, the flickering black candles in their trembling hands casting eerie shadows on their faces. The air was thick with tension, a palpable mix of fear, anticipation, and bone-chilling cold that seemed to seep into their very bones.
Willow held the Urn of Osiris tightly, her knuckles white with the strain, while clutching a bundle of spell ingredients. Her gaze darted between her anxious friends as they stood in somber unity.
"Does everybody have their candles?" Willow asked, her voice hushed, carrying the weight of their mission.
Anya's candle refused to cooperate, and her frustration showed. "Mine won't stay lit. It keeps going out," she complained, her agitation evident.
Willow, her nerves on edge, issued a stern command. "Well, make it stay. It has to—"
Tara, ever mindful of the time, interjected with a sense of urgency. "What time is it?" she asked Xander, her eyes darting between the candles and the looming midnight hour.
"One minute to midnight. Less," Xander replied, his voice tinged with the gravity of the moment.
"Come on, Anya. Do you have it?" Willow urged, her voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and urgency.
Anya's struggle with the stubborn candle continued, and she muttered in frustration. "Oh God..." She persisted, trying once more, and finally, the flame took hold. "Got it!"
With a sense of determination, Willow issued the command. "Start the circle. Now." She knelt on the grave, her hands trembling as she clutched the urn of Osiris. Around her, Xander, Anya, and Tara knelt in a circle, their candles held aloft, the dim light casting eerie shadows on their faces.
Willow began the ritual, mixing the spell ingredients into the urn, including the blood of a deer she had sacrificed. Her voice took on a reverent tone as she chanted, invoking the ancient deity. "Osiris, keeper of the gate, master of all fate, hear us," she intoned, her finger dipped in the blood mixture as she anointed herself. She poured some of the blood on the ground, creating a mystical symbol. "Before time and after, before knowing and nothing..."
As Willow continued her chant, her voice changed, growing lower and otherworldly. "Accept our offering. Know our prayer..." Suddenly, she stiffened, her breath catching in her throat. Quick, deep cuts appeared on her arms seemingly out of nowhere.
Tara, Xander, and Anya watched in horrified silence as Willow's blood stained the earth beneath her. Xander was on the verge of rushing to her aid, but Tara held him back, her fear evident but tempered by her knowledge of the ritual.
"No. She told me… She'd be tested," Tara explained, her voice wavering with worry. "This is what's supposed to happen—"
"Osiris!" Willow cried out, her voice filled with desperation. "Here lies the warrior of the people! Let her cross over!" Something surged under her skin, racing through her body with an otherworldly force.
Xander's concern grew, and he could no longer stand idly by. "She needs help!" he cried, his heart pounding with anxiety and fear for his friend.
"Xander, she's strong," Tara assured him, her voice quivering with fear and determination. "She said not to stop, no matter what. If anything, b-b-breaks the cycle now — it's over—"
Tara's words hung heavy in the tense air, emphasizing the gravity of their situation. But just as the ritual reached its critical point, a distant rumbling filled the night, causing them all to freeze in fear.
"Oh God. What's that noise?" Anya exclaimed, her voice trembling as she, Tara, and Xander looked around in terror, their eyes wide with apprehension.
Streets of Sunnydale
Sunnydale's Main Street, once the heart of a seemingly ordinary town, lay quiet and peaceful under the moonlit night. The usual serenity of the streets was a stark contrast to the tumultuous events unfolding just moments away.
The pack of demons, now on their motorcycles, tore down the street like a malevolent storm. Their presence disrupted the tranquility as they roared through, leaving chaos in their wake. Windows shattered, and the promise of a long and harrowing night of mayhem hung heavy in the air.
Cair Paravel, Narnia
Mr. Tumnus led Buffy into the Throne Room. It was jam-packed and everyone was whispering, the news having spread around like wildfire. As soon as she entered, it went quiet, all eyes turning to her as she walked to the front of the room. Buffy, despite her internal turmoil, stood tall, her gaze resolute, ready to face the challenges ahead as the last remaining Royal of Narnia.
"Osiris, keeper of the gate, master of all fate, hear us," a mysterious voice echoed through the throne room.
Buffy stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes wide as she looked around for the source of the voice. The words sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt a strange, otherworldly presence in the room.
"My Lady?" Mr. Tumnus asked, his hand on her arm, concern etched on his face.
"Did you hear that?" Buffy asked, her voice trembling with a mix of awe and fear.
He slowly shook his head, wondering if the news she had received had driven her mad. The voice continued, its words enigmatic and powerful.
"Before time, and after. Before knowing and nothing."
Buffy gasped, her heart racing. She knew that voice. It was Willow's voice, her dear friend from her previous life. "Willow," she whispered to herself, her eyes filled with both hope and despair. "No."
Then she spotted Aslan as he made his way through the crowd toward her. She turned to him, desperation in her eyes. "Can you stop her?" she pleaded.
Aslan shook his majestic mane, a solemn expression on his face. "No, the witch is beyond my control," he said. "She will pull you back into your world. But there is something I can do. I can control the transference, which would allow you to return, safe with your unborn child. If I did not do this, you would lose the child as the transference would place you back into your corpse inside your coffin."
It was then that the crowd in the throne room realized they were about to lose the last remaining Royal.
"Will I ever see Narnia again?" Buffy wondered, her voice filled with a mixture of longing and sorrow.
"There may come a time when you are needed in Narnia again," Aslan said with a mighty roar. "Till then, farewell, High Queen Buffy Pevensie, Daughter of Eve and Sineya."
Darkness flowed around Buffy.
Restfield Cemetery
Xander, Anya, and Tara stood in a state of helpless distress, their faces etched with worry and fear as they witnessed Willow's ordeal. The tension in the air was nearly suffocating as Willow's voice grew weaker, her desperate cry barely audible.
"Osiris! Let her cross over!" Willow implored, her voice trembling as she continued to endure the unseen torment writhing beneath her skin.
The bumps under Willow's skin began to shift and merge, forming a rope-like, sinuous entity that snaked its way up her chest and into her throat. Willow's gasps turned into choking sounds as her struggle for breath intensified.
"Oh God... Oh, God..." Tara's voice wavered with panic, her eyes wide with terror as she watched her girlfriend's suffering.
Willow, her body wracked with agony, gripped the earth on Buffy's grave as if seeking solace from the torment. Her mouth was forced open by an invisible force, and a snake began to slither out, causing Tara to scream in fear for Willow's safety.
The snake continued to emerge from Willow's mouth, its serpentine form winding its way out of her until, finally, Willow cried out, drawing a desperate and shaking breath. The group watched in a mix of horror and awe, knowing that this was the test Willow had prepared for.
Tara, her voice trembling with reassurance, reminded them of the significance of the moment. "It's a t-test. It's a test..." She tried to maintain her composure as something shimmering began to take shape in the air in front of them.
The shimmering in the air slowly took on form, initially coalescing into a spherical shape before gradually extending into a human silhouette. As the shimmering solidified, a woman appeared before them, slowly becoming more substantial until Buffy Summers, five months pregnant, stood before her astonished friends.
Willow's eyes lit up with joy, and she couldn't contain her excitement as she rushed forward to hug Buffy. However, her happiness was tempered by confusion when she noticed Buffy's pregnant belly. "How?" Willow asked, her voice reflecting her bewilderment.
Buffy smiled gently, a mix of emotions crossing her face as forgotten memories came flooding back. "I don't know where you thought you were pulling me out of, Will," she began to explain. "But for me, it was almost like heaven. For me, fifteen years have passed. I fell in love, got married, and am having his child."
Willow's smile faded as she absorbed the revelation that she had inadvertently disrupted Buffy's happy existence. "I'm sorry, Buffy, we didn't know," she apologized, her voice filled with regret. "We thought you were in a hell dimension."
Buffy's words carried a bittersweet acceptance of their actions, and her gaze traveled from Willow to Xander, Anya, Tara, and back to Willow, her eyes filled with gratitude and understanding.
"It's okay, Will," Buffy reassured her friend, her voice warm and forgiving. She understood the complexities of the situation and bore no ill will. "As much as I would have liked to stay, it was probably for the best. Just before you pulled me out, I got news that my husband and siblings-in-law had vanished, back to their original time. They were from the 1940s. While I had all my subjects and friends, I didn't have my family anymore. By pulling me out, you returned me to the only family I have left. You guys and Dawn."
Tears welled up in Willow's eyes, a mixture of relief and gratitude. She had feared that she might have torn Buffy away from a blissful life, but Buffy's understanding and reassurance eased her guilt.
"We missed you so much, Buffy," Willow said, her voice choked with emotion as she embraced her friend once again. The years of separation had been long and painful, but now they were back together.
Xander, Anya, and Tara joined in the embrace, their smiles reflecting the joy of having Buffy back among them. The bonds of friendship that had been tested and strengthened over the years were unbreakable.
Buffy looked at each of them, her heart filled with love and appreciation. "For a long time, the only one I truly remembered in Sunnydale was my sister, was Dawn," Buffy confessed, her voice soft and genuine. "But now that I remember you guys, I can honestly say I missed you all too."
A horrifying rumbling sound emanated from the nearby forest, causing everyone to tense up. Moments later, the unexpected appearance of the Buffybot left them all surprised and perplexed.
"Willow - I need service!" the Buffybot declared, its mechanical voice cutting through the tension.
Buffy, still trying to process the sight of her robotic doppelganger, couldn't help but comment. "You fixed the robot," she said, her surprise evident.
Willow nodded; her expression serious. "We had to make sure demons and vampires thought you were alive," she admitted, her voice tinged with urgency.
Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the arrival of five demons on motorcycles crashing through the woods. The demons, filled with malevolent intent, circled around Willow, Tara, Anya, Xander, Buffy, and the Buffybot, their motorcycles tearing up the ground in a threatening display.
Buffy, always ready to protect her friends, took charge of the situation. "Wow, desecrating my grave," she remarked wryly. "I don't even know if I still have a corpse down there or not." She turned to her friends; her tone resolute. "The robot and I have this. Get out of here."
Tara's concern for Buffy's safety was evident in her voice as she reminded her, "But you're pregnant."
Buffy nodded; her determination unwavering. "Yeah, I know," she acknowledged. "Which makes me want to make sure I remain alive for my child. And to do that will mean taking care of these guys."
With a reluctant understanding of Buffy's priorities, Willow, Xander, Tara, and Anya exchanged glances before following Buffy's instructions. They ran off into the woods, leaving Buffy and the Buffybot to face the approaching demons together.
As her friends retreated, Buffy called after them, "Make sure you stop by the house and tell Dawn I'm back." Her voice held a mix of longing and hope as she looked forward to reuniting with her sister after all these years apart.
The Buffybot stood steadfastly beside Buffy as they faced off against the oncoming demon bikers.
"I'm dangerously close—" the Buffybot began, her mechanical voice filled with urgency, but she was abruptly interrupted as one of the demon bikers struck her from behind. The impact jarred her, and she staggered, her artificial form momentarily compromised. "Uhh! —to system failure," she continued, her voice strained. "I have to disengage from—" But before she could finish her sentence, she was struck again, the relentless assault preventing her from completing her thought. "Uhh! —combat until Willow can service me."
Buffy's voice was resolute as she responded to the Buffybot's plea. "We can't disengage," she instructed firmly. "No one will be left alive to service you if we disengage."
In the heat of the battle, Buffy recognized the dire situation they were in. If they backed down now, the demons would likely overrun them, and their chances of survival would diminish.
Buffy and the Buffybot, united in purpose, fought with a synchronized ferocity against the demon bikers. The air was thick with tension and the roar of motorcycle engines as they clashed in a chaotic ballet of violence.
Buffy struck with precision as she took on the demons with an uncanny blend of strength and agility. Her punches were swift and devastating, sending demons tumbling from their bikes and into the dirt.
The Buffybot, though taking more hits than her human counterpart, was no less relentless. Her movements were calculated and efficient as she engaged the demons with programmed combat skills. With each punch and kick, she demonstrated a mechanical precision that mirrored Buffy's own fighting prowess.
Together, they battled the demon bikers, their determination unwavering. Despite the relentless onslaught, they held their ground, defending themselves with unwavering resolve.
But as the fight raged on, the odds began to tip against them. The demon bikers, relentless in their assault, outnumbered Buffy and the Buffybot. Blow after blow landed on the Buffybot, causing her artificial frame to deteriorate. Sparks flew as her circuits short-circuited, and her movements became sluggish.
Buffy, too, was showing signs of fatigue, her strength waning with each passing moment. She knew they couldn't keep up this pace much longer, but retreating wasn't an option. They had to hold their ground.
Finally, the moment of reckoning came. A particularly powerful blow landed on the Buffybot, causing her to stumble and falter. She emitted a series of mechanical noises, her body twitching and jerking uncontrollably. With one last, valiant effort, she raised her arm, attempting to strike back at the demons.
But it was in vain. With a final, devastating blow, the Buffybot's systems began to fail irreparably. Her movements slowed to a crawl, and her mechanical voice became distorted as she uttered her last words, "I… I can't go on."
The Buffybot's form went limp as she shut down completely.
Summers Home
Dawn stood at the front window of her home, her eyes wide with fear and disbelief as she watched the chaos unfold outside. A demon biker, armed with a baseball bat, knocked a mailbox off its post across the street, and his howl of delight sent shivers down her spine. Several other demons roared past on their motorcycles, their malevolent presence casting a shadow over Sunnydale.
As the demon bikers continued their rampage, one of them callously hurled a Molotov cocktail at the front door of a nearby house, setting it ablaze. Dawn gasped at the sight of the fire engulfing the home, the flames dancing ominously in the night.
Behind her, Spike frantically rummaged through a trunk filled with weapons, though his search yielded only a couple of wooden stakes. He muttered to himself in frustration as he reached in, his irritation growing. "Nothing. Coupla stakes. Right big help. Holy water, one cross—" He dropped the cross he accidentally picked up as his hand began to smoke. "Yahh!" Spike screamed in pain, shaking his hand vigorously to cool it off. "Oh, brilliant."
Regaining his composure, Spike glanced up and noticed Dawn at the window. His anger flared as he approached her. "Here! Want me to bloody thump you? I told you to stay away from the windows!" He pulled Dawn away from the window and took a cautious look outside.
Dawn, still shaken by the chaos and the danger lurking outside, turned to Spike for answers. "Who are they?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Spike's eyes remained fixed on the hellish scene unfolding beyond. "Hellions," he replied with a grim expression. "Road pirates. They raid towns. Use 'em up, burn 'em down. Usually backwaters. Any place..." His voice trailed off as realization dawned upon him. "Any place they think is vulnerable."
Dawn's eyes widened as the dreadful truth sunk in. "They know..." she whispered; her voice filled with dread. "The Slayer's gone."
"Not anymore," came Willow's voice from the dining room. She, Xander, Anya, and Tara had entered the house through the back door. The atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted, the tension palpable.
Spike, his voice tinged with a mix of confusion and hope, questioned, "What do you mean, not anymore?"
Willow replied, her tone filled with a mixture of relief and uncertainty, "We brought her back, Spike. Buffy's alive again." Her words hung in the air, and you could sense the weight of the revelation settling in the room. Willow's voice trembled with emotion as she glanced at Dawn. "She wanted us to tell you she was back."
Dawn's eyes widened, her shock giving way to a flood of emotions. Her voice quivered as she processed the incredible news, "She's... she's alive?"
But Willow wasn't finished, and her voice carried a hint of disbelief and wonder as she dropped the bombshell, "And apparently, wherever I pulled her out of, was like heaven for her, and as a result, she's pregnant." The room fell into stunned silence as everyone grappled with the overwhelming mix of emotions that came with the news.
Dawn stared at Willow, her eyes brimming with tears, her heart racing with joy and confusion. Her sister was back, and the unexpected twist of Buffy becoming a mother added an extra layer of complexity to an already surreal moment.
Restfield Cemetery
Buffy continued to battle the demon bikers in the cemetery, her every move fueled by determination and skill. She moved with a grace that was both deadly and mesmerizing, dispatching the demon bikers one by one, her stake finding its mark with unerring accuracy.
As she fought, she couldn't help but notice a larger, more imposing figure among the demon bikers. This one was clearly their leader, his presence commanding respect and fear among his followers. He bore a jagged scar across his face, a testament to the many battles he had fought and won.
Their confrontation was inevitable, and finally, Buffy came face to face with the leader. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the chaos around them seemed to fade into the background. It was a battle of wills as much as it was a physical confrontation.
The leader lunged at Buffy with ferocious speed, his strength and agility matching her own. Their fight was intense, a whirlwind of punches, kicks, and dodges as they traded blows with a fury that shook the very ground beneath them.
But Buffy's determination and experience prevailed. With a final, powerful strike, she disarmed the leader, sending his weapon flying. She then swiftly followed up with a series of precise blows that left him incapacitated and gasping for breath.
As the leader lay defeated, Buffy stood victorious over him, her chest heaving with exertion. She had vanquished the demon biker leader, and his followers, witnessing his defeat, began to retreat, their intimidation shattered.
The cemetery fell into an eerie silence, the battle having come to an abrupt end. Buffy, still catching her breath, glanced around at the aftermath of the fight. She had defended Sunnydale once again, and although the danger was far from over, she had proven that even without her extraordinary friends, she was a force to be reckoned with.
Summers Home
Buffy's return home was nothing short of a miracle. As she stepped through the front door, the familiar scent of the Summers' residence enveloped her. She couldn't help but smile at the rush of memories that washed over her, mingling with the anticipation of what was to come.
The moment she crossed the threshold, Dawn rushed forward, her eyes brimming with tears of joy. She threw her arms around Buffy, embracing her tightly. "Buffy! You're really back!" she exclaimed; her voice choked with emotion.
Buffy held her little sister close, returning the hug with a fierce affection that only siblings could understand. "I'm back, Dawnie," she whispered, her voice filled with love and gratitude. She looked down at Dawn's face, radiant with happiness, and added, "And I've missed you so much."
The rest of the Scooby Gang, who had been waiting in the living room, erupted in applause and cheers. Xander clapped Spike on the back, and even Anya couldn't hide her genuine smile. Tara and Willow shared a knowing look, their relief palpable.
As the initial excitement settled, Dawn pulled back from the hug, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. "And there's something else," she said, her voice trembling with excitement. "Willow said… you're going to be a mom!" Dawn's face lit up with joy as she placed a hand on Buffy's belly, where new life was growing.
"Yeah, Dawn. I am," Buffy said softly, her hand resting on top of her sister's.