Post by CMK1887 on Sept 12, 2006 17:01:36 GMT -5
Survivor: The Hellmouth - Chosen Fan Fiction #2
Word Count: 7156
Word Count: 7156
As the quiet moon loomed over Restfield Cemetery, Buffy and Angel emerged from the Egyptian-style tomb. After finally defeating Caleb, the two former lovers fell into the same routine that happened every time they got together these past four years: shock, explanation, fight, apologize. Angel asked the one question Buffy wasn’t prepared to answer. She wasn’t sure how she felt at this point. There was too much happening right now, too much to worry about for her to try and pinpoint her exact feelings for the other souled vampire, the one that wasn’t standing in front of her. Angel could smell Spike all over her, which wasn’t a rarity these past two years. The unlife-long battle between the two vampires didn’t help any in this situation. It was awkward for both of them.
“What was the highlight of our relationship? When you broke up with me, or when I killed you?” sighing, Buffy leaned beside Angel against the tombstone alongside her equally chilly lover. “I don’t see fat grandchildren in the offing with Spike but I don’t think that really matters right now. Things are starting to make more sense.”
“I get that. I do…but Spike?” Angel looked at Buffy, as though looking at a precious piece of art. He’d seen enough art in his undead life to know the difference between beauty, and Buffy was priceless to him.
“Like Cordelia is any better?” Buffy watched Angel’s face turn into his trademark brood. “I’m sorry to hear about her. She…had her moments.”
“I love her, Buffy.” It was Angel’s turn to throw a curveball.
“I gathered as much from what Willow told me.” Buffy sighed, and stood again. “I should get back.”
“I’ll go start working on that second front. Make sure I don’t have to use it.” Angel starts to disappear into the shadows.
“Angel…” She called him back. “I do sometimes wonder…”
“Sometimes is something.” He knew exactly what she meant. Seven years later, and they were still connected.
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Spike accepted the amulet, a twinkle of a hidden tear in his eyes. Everybody was gone for the night already, and she was glad that he let her stay with him. The cot wasn’t that big but she wasn’t, either. They would just fit, as long as he held her tight. Leaning up, she kissed him sweetly on the lips, glad for once that he didn’t taste like blood and cigarettes. This kiss wasn’t a prelude to anything sexy; it was a reminder of the shared intimacy and understanding between the two warriors. They both knew the big fight was approaching, and it was crunch time. For one brief, connected moment, their minds were clear of anything but the other. A simple kiss that said so much on so many levels. Instead of taking the kiss further, they just fell asleep atop the cot, neither bothering to change from their day’s clothes.
As the hints of dawn approached outside, Buffy woke up to find they hadn’t moved during the night. He was still holding her tight, and the embrace was surprisingly warm. She started to fondle his hand, playing with the fingers falling across her stomach. These fingers had done violence, been buried in her hair, fondled her in turn, and yet they were her comfort. Sighing, Buffy wondered why relationships had to be so complicated when it came to slayers. That was one good thing about being a potential; the girls upstairs still had a choice for a normal life. They didn’t carry the world on their shoulders every night. Given the choice, Buffy wondered how many of those girls would actually choose this lifestyle, would choose to fight the good fight. Standing, she went to watch the sun rise from the window, only to sense a form hovering beside her.
“Pretty, ain’t it?” Caleb had that evil smirk still on his face.
“You’re not him.” Buffy listened to the First continue its taunting. While they traded verbal blows, something occurred to her. The First really was concerned, despite its barbs about her seemingly powerless army. She had killed its right-hand man, an evil preacher with the power of the First embedded in him. Buffy had hit the First where it hurt, and now it was here to remind her how powerless she really was. He had an army of uber vampires, and she had two people with actual strength to take them on other than herself. “Talk on. I'm not afraid of you. “
“Then why aren't you asleep in your dead lover's arms?” Caleb looks over at Spike, who has started to roll around in his sleep. “'Cause he can't help you. Nor Faith, nor your friends, certainly not your wanna-slay brigade. None of those girlies will ever know real power unless you're dead. You know the drill.” The First morphed into Buffy’s form, and the two stood staring at each other. “Into every generation, a slayer is born. One girl in all the world. She alone will have the strength and skill to— There's that word again. What you are. How you'll die. Alone. Where's your snappy comeback?”
“You’re right.” It was then that Buffy realized what she had to do; it was then that she realized it was time to change the world.
“Hmm. Not your best.” Just as it had appeared, the First disappeared, and Buffy was left to ponder her plan. Now, she just had to convince the gang, especially Willow. After all these years, the redhead was still her big gun.
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The next day, Buffy called a core Scooby meeting to rehash her plan. Her main concerns rested in the opinions of those who had been there since the beginning. What would Giles think? Would he lecture her on how futile her plan was? Was she ready to risk the life of her best friend to change the future of others? This went against everything that Giles had ever learned in the Watcher’s Academy, and Willow was the main ingredient to her concoction. To her relief, Giles called her plan ‘bloody brilliant,’ and that made her feel a little better but what about Willow? Without the redheaded witch, the plan was shot to hell, only without the added hellfire and brimstone. Then again, if the plan didn’t work, there could be hellfire and brimstone. She wasn’t sure what exactly was under the Hellmouth but she was willing to find out, and finish this once and for all.
“This goes beyond anything I've ever done. It's a total loss of control, and not in a nice, wholesome, my girlfriend has a pierced tongue kind of way.” Willow was beyond nervous. This really was beyond anything…even Dark Willow. In theory, it should work but it was the scariest thing she would have to encounter since joining Buffy’s side seven years ago. No…this wasn’t some baddie, or evil demon. This could very well be her last day as just Willow. Then again, she’d come to the conclusion in the recent months that she hadn’t been anything but ‘just Willow’ ever since she’d met Buffy. That shy girl was gone. In her place stood a witch with the power to destroy the world…and Buffy believed in her.
The gang went their separate ways, except for Willow, Buffy, and Faith. After all, this was as much Faith’s fate changing as it was Buffy’s. There were times when the brunette felt that she was no better than a potential to her blonde counterpart. After leading those girls, her opinion was starting to change. Buffy dealt with that loneliness inside of her everyday, every time she fought, every time her friends joined her in the fray. Yet, she still felt insignificant to older slayer. Maybe she always would.
“I’m just here for the ride. Do what ya gotta.” Faith started playing with her hands, popping her knuckles to make it look like she was stretching, and wasn’t nervous.
“I need you with me a hundred percent, Faith. You’re as much a part of this as I am.” Buffy recognized the nervous gesture. She was doing everything she could not to mirror it at this point.
“I’m just second string in this. You’re the boss.” Faith took a deep breath. Four years ago, she would never have said that to Buffy Summers. If it weren’t for Angel’s help, she didn’t know if she could’ve done it just now.
“You’re just as much the boss as me.” Buffy sounded that in her head, and nodded. It may not make sense but she got her point across, as she noticed Faith’s eyes flicker. Willow just sat by, watching the display among the slayers. “This doesn’t just change my destiny. It changes yours even moreso. You’ll be the last slayer chosen when another slayer dies. Kendra…”
“Who’s Kendra?” Faith looked at both girls, and it dawned on her. “Oh…the slayer that ‘went before me’ so to speak. Guess it changes her fate, too, huh?”
“And all the slayers that ‘went before,’ as you say.” Buffy remembered the Jamaican slayer, knowing that Kendra would’ve loved to see this. Then again, Kendra was Watcher’s Council bred through and through. She might protest the entire thing. Buffy just knew she was doing this for all slayers, not just her and Faith. “We should go tell the juniors the plan, then.”
“Right. I’ll see you downstairs. I wanna talk to Will for a minute.” Buffy watched Faith’s nod, as the girl exited the room.
It was just Buffy and Willow now. The redhead ran her hand over the scythe, getting a feel for it again. The power was there, that much she could tell. She was just afraid that power would make her lose the Willow that was left.
“You can do this, Will. Not because it’s our best chance. Not because I say so…but because you CAN. You’re Willow, witchy extraordinaire.” Buffy looked at Willow’s scrunched brow, and ran a hand across it to calm the girl a little. “Best friend extraordinaire.”
“I miss being that.” Willow looked at the blonde’s smile, and it was hard not to smile in return. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”
“You’ve never given me anything but…” Buffy hugged the redhead, and they went downstairs to the assembled crowd. It was time for the second most important part of her plan.
“I hate this. I hate being here. I hate that you have to be here. I hate that there's evil, and that I was chosen to fight it. I wish, a whole lot of the time, that I hadn't been. I know a lot of you wish I hadn't been either.” She noticed Kennedy and Rona look away. “But this isn't about wishes. This is about choices. I believe we can beat this evil. Not when it comes, not when its army is ready, now. Tomorrow morning I'm opening the seal. I'm going down into the hellmouth, and I'm finishing this once and for all. Right now you're asking yourself, "what makes this different? What makes us anything more than a bunch of girls being picked off one by one?" It's true none of you have the power that Faith and I do. So here's the part where you make a choice.”
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Everybody was making their final plans, and the house was somewhat in a tense state. Willow was upstairs with Kennedy, going over her spell, making sure she didn’t miss a thing. There was an impromptu ‘Dungeons and Dragons’ game being played in the kitchen. The potentials that were left mentally prepped each other. The house was eerily quiet except for the television in the living room. Some of the girls decided that last minute ‘Wonder Woman’ and ‘Xena: Warrior Princess’ episodes were the perfect way to get in the zone. The big fight was coming tomorrow. Perhaps the best way to prepare is to keep the mind preoccupied.
As the ‘Dungeons and Dragons’ game came to a close, Andrew and Amanda joined Dawn and the others in the living room. On the screen, Wonder Woman was using her golden lasso, and all the girls there seemed glued to the screen, mentally taking notes, maybe even preparing what they would say during the fight. They’d seen Buffy use those one-liners, and they wanted to say something clever, too. It would psyche out the enemy, and might give the less fight-trained potentials a better chance. Hey, whatever works…
Giles retreated to his room alone with a nice cup of tea and a good book. It’d been a while since he’d been the stuffy British man Buffy Summers met on her first day in Sunnydale. Yes, a good book and cup of Earl Grey was the best preparation for any fight. He sat on his bed, and opened the book to the first page. It wasn’t two seconds later, a figure appeared beside the bed, pretending to be interested in his reading.
“If you plan on taunting me into killing Spike again, I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong man.” Giles wasn’t completely prepared for the form the First had taken. “You’re not her.”
“I seem to be getting that a lot lately.” Jenny smiled sweetly at Rupert, and watched as the man’s eyes steeled once again. She smirked, as she’d seen the Ripper’s eyes gleam for a nanosecond. “Oh, no need to go all British. We all know you’ve failed Buffy already. Why do you even bother staying around? I’m curious, since you’ve obviously killed off any trust your slayer had left in you. Then again, she’s not your slayer anymore, now is she? You got what you wanted. She doesn’t need you anymore. After that little Spike debacle, I’m surprised she’s letting you stay.”
“I must inform you this is an utter waste of time. Now, if you will…” Giles returned to his book but his mind was elsewhere. The First was right about one thing: Buffy didn’t need him anymore. That’s what he wanted. However, she still wanted him, and he knew this for a fact. His young charge had grown but she would forever be his slayer. That’s where the First was wrong. Buffy would always be his slayer, even if he wasn’t technically her Watcher anymore.
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Xander and Anya entered the apartment, worn out and tired. Anya was still half asleep on the way there. As he fixed himself a glass of water, Xander watched Anya waddle to the bathroom. He wasn’t sure what would happen but she had asked to stay here tonight. Maybe she wanted to get away from the ‘cannon fodder,’ as she called the potentials. He chuckled under his breath at her comments as of late. She never was one for tact, and he loved her all the more for it. He seemed to be drawn to those women. First, Cordelia, then Faith, and finally Anya.
“This is something I never thought I’d see: Xander Harris with a girl in his room.” Jesse’s voice resonated in the air.
“Yeah, well…lots has happened since you, you know, turned into an evil, blood-sucking fiend.” Turning around, Xander saw the First in the form of his old friend.
“Yeah. You tried to cure me, didn’t you? How’d that work out?” Jesse just smirked. He seemed eviler under the First’s guise. “Still the same loser, I see…well, at least I see. It doesn’t look like you see too much these days.”
“Could be worse.” Xander was confused. Why did the First choose to show up now? It was the only time during this entire debacle. “I could’ve lost both eyes.”
“Yeah. Well, you’ll always be that loser. Only girls you can get to date you are demons. Not much of a lovelife.” The First circled around Xander, sizing him up. “You’re a lot shorter than I remember, too.”
“Why don’t you get to the point of why you’re here? Let me start disinfecting the room now. I’m kinda tired.” Xander started taking sips of his water, trying to ignore the fact that he was face to face with the very thing that bred evil. He tried to remember that, as he looked in the face of his late best friend. Now, he understood why it was so hard for the others to see this.
“You always were boring. No wonder I haven’t wasted my time with you.” Just like that, the First disappeared. Xander took a deep breath, and refilled his now empty water glass. The First had appeared to him because he was the least corruptible in the group; Xander realized that now. He was the heart, and what better way to tear apart a group then to aim for its heart; just like a vampire. Walking into the bedroom, he sat down on the bed, taking more sips of his water. Looking up, he noticed Anya standing there naked, her dress pooled at her feet.
“I’m scared of what will happen to you.” Anya looked at him, a familiar confusion in her eyes. Standing, he laid his water glass on the nightstand, and went to encase her in his arms. “You’re still nicely shaped.”
“And what’s the sense of having these interlocking bodies if we don’t interlock, right?” Xander smiled. It was just like their first intimate moment together, when she had thrown herself at him in the basement of his parents’ house over three years ago. However, they had grown and matured, and this time, no cran-apple was spilled.
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Kennedy had just left to go to the bathroom. Willow pulled the covers over her body, relishing in the coolness against her overheated skin. The young potential really was a great lover, and completely different from Tara. The memory of Tara’s voluptuous body caused Willow to close her eyes, and take a deep breath. The familiar, calming scent of vanilla and jasmine was gone from the room. In its place was a more musky, sexual aroma, telling of events that happened only moments ago. Again, Willow sighed. It had calmed her overactive nerves for at least a few seconds. That was better than nothing.
“This is a pretty picture.” The First blinked into existence, and Warren was staring back at the redhead, clad only in a sheet. “What would your dead girlfriend think of you now?”
“You’re not him.” Willow clenched her jaw. She knew a peaceful
night was all but impossible. Of course the First would show up in the aftermath of her calm. At least it hadn’t shown up during.
“There’s that phrase again. I’ve been getting an awful lot of that.” Warren walked across the room, and tried to peek down the sheet. Willow only clutched it tighter to her body. “Aw…spoilsport.”
“It’s not a free show.”
“Though I’m guessing if I’d shown up a couple minutes earlier, I would’ve gotten just that. Tsk tsk. It didn’t take you long to move on. If I’d just hidden a little better, I bet I’d still get to keep my skin.” With the blink of an eye, Warren’s skin flew from his body, and in his place stood nothing but muscle and tendons. “It’s a new look. Do you think my Darth Vader shirt will cover most of it?”
“Will-ow…I have a gift for…” Kennedy stopped, as she noticed the stricken look on her girlfriend’s face. Thinking back to what had occurred before she left to pee, Kennedy felt her heart break. The redhead didn’t look happy and in the aftermath of an explosive orgasm. “Are you okay, Willow?”
“Huh? Oh…sorry. The First was here.” Willow shook her head, trying to clear the images of flayed Warren from her mind. Just the image of Warren in general. Now was not the time to be unfocused.
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Buffy stood on the porch, overlooking the empty, cold streets of her home for the last seven years. It was hard to believe she was once a bubbling, young 15 year old entering a new school only seven years ago. It felt more like a lifetime. All she wanted from Willow was help getting caught up on her homework, maybe a fresh new friendship. Now, she was asking her to risk everything to help her. Willow helping wasn’t anything new.
They’d been best friends almost since that first day. They’d drifted apart so much through the years, and somewhere along the line, she felt as though she lost all of her friends.
Alone. That’s what she felt like…yet, here they were, prepping themselves for the biggest fight of their lives together, and they still follow her into battle. All the events that happened these past seven years led up to this one big apocalypse, and she was more terrified for her friends’ lives than any of those other times. Not even the fights with Adam, Glory, or even the Mayor came close. This was their big fight. They were fighting evil itself, only literally this time. ‘When my army outnumbers the humans on this Earth, the scales will tip and I will be made flesh.’ That’s what the First had said but how much longer until it became flesh? Buffy wasn’t willing to wait any longer to find out.
“Deep thoughts?” Jonathon asked.
“The deepest.” Buffy rolled her eyes. She thought it would be a peaceful night. Instead, the First decided to show its face.
“You weren’t much different in high school, ya know? Always mysterious, only hanging out with Willow and Xander. Now, you’re all out here alone…funny that, huh?” The First smirked, as it saw Buffy sigh deep.
“I remember Jonathan giving me the Class Protector award. Is that why you’re here now as him? Trying to remind me of people I couldn’t save?” Buffy was tired of these games, and was more than happy that she was going to end this once and for all. The First was nothing but a nuisance.
In response, The First walked around Buffy, and merged into Glory by the time it was on the other side. “You see, Buffy? You may have defeated some things but I can never be defeated. I am all the evil in the world. I’m what bred those things you killed.”
“How does that make you any less annoying?” Buffy took a seat on the wall, and looked at the First, wanting to get this over with already.
“Well…I can’t be defeated.” The First walked more in front of Buffy, and merged into Adam. “I will be with you until the day you die. It may not be me directly, though I enjoy our little debacles, but everything you ever fight. Every evil deed you read about in the newspaper and see on television.” As it paced the porch in front of Buffy, the First continued its tirade, as it merged yet again into Mayor Wilkins. “Every rapist, every murderer, every wifebeater. I am there. I am in the hearts of all, and most definitely in the hearts of all of your ‘key’ fighters, if you can really call them that. How do you know none of them have sold you out already? That is how politics work…there’s always somebody willing to rat out the whole team for the sake of his or her own life.”
“Are you quite finished?” Buffy wanted to try and get some sleep again. She had left Spike in the basement to ponder over the amulet some, give him a little space. He would probably come looking for her soon.
“That’s just the thing. I’m never finished.” Spike sing-songed, as he leaned closer. “Or did you forget, pet? I am evil.”
“Not anymore.” Buffy did her best to keep her plan to herself. She knew none her people had ratted her out, and most definitely not Spike. Even without a soul, he wouldn’t do that to her at this point in their relationship. Sure, he was a thing of evil but he was anything but.
“You’ve come a long way, Slayer. I look forward to killing you again.” The Master’s face was still as ugly as Buffy remembered, and it was the only time the First had ever used it with her. Strange since the Master had haunted her even years after that first fight.
“We’ll see…” Buffy stood from the porch, and made her way inside, and down the stairs. She found Spike there, and looked at him with a touch of emotion displayed on her face. This was it. No more waiting. Time to take the fight to back to where it all started: the Hellmouth, her alma mater.
But I have to say, what really bugged me when reading your fan fiction, was the lack of speech from Dawn, Andrew and Robin Wood. They're too big a characters just to be pushed to the sidelines like that, and I would have been kinda pissed if they ended up saying nothing throughout the actual episode itself 
