Buffy awoke with a start. With pain. With fear. He loomed above her, snarling, more beast then man.

“Honey… you’re back… just in time for a snack…”

He laughed as his face changed, showed his true nature. Moaned as his teeth touched flesh, sank below the levels, pierced a vein and tasted blood. Her blood. He couldn’t get enough of it. So intoxicating. So sweet. He only hoped that he could hang on for his new friends. But he wasn’t so sure. Every time he touched her, tasted her, he could feel control slipping. And as he tasted her now, felt himself firm between her legs, felt her flesh touching him… he didn’t really care.

Faith also awoke with a start. For a moment she could feel it. The connection still just there. Her mind and Buffy’s. And she felt the pain, felt the hopelessness… the helplessness. Felt everything.

And it felt like giving up.

Part 20.

Hours swam in her head, minutes, seconds. All mixed up. She had tried so hard to hang on to some sort of clock, an inner thing. Counting the nights by her body’s need to slay. But it hadn’t worked. She had become too weak, her body not caring anymore when the sun sank and the moon rose, it wouldn’t fight. Couldn’t fight. It didn’t need to know the time anymore.

Everything just seemed like forever. Like daylight didn’t exist. Like people didn’t exist. Maybe even that she herself didn’t exist. Reality had become nothing but pain. And the hissing… endless and over and over. So many demons now, more then an army. They constantly surrounded her, not communicating with her, nothing but the hissing.

Angelus was there all the time. She hadn’t seen Angel again, wasn’t sure that Angel hadn’t been vanquished forever. That this whole losing the soul gig wasn’t just an excuse for Angelus to get laid.

For a time it hadn’t been so bad. She couldn’t think when since, just knew that there had been no fresh pain in a while. A welcome while. But she also knew what that meant. Had been told what that meant. Seemed like maybe she was nearing her time slot. Her dinner date, and don’t be late.

A part of her just wanted it all to be over. Whatever that entailed. Wanted to go to sleep, to rest, to be free. To stop hurting.

But another part, the largest part… that cried for something more. Sure it wanted to rest, to be free, to stop hurting, but it wanted it where it belonged. It wanted it with Faith. SHE wanted it with Faith. To be wrapped in arms that didn’t scare her, to feel a touch given with love… it was everything that was keeping her going.

To have woken so fresh from her dream to her nightmare had been horrendous, one second it was Faith’s lips that had claimed her, and in the next it was his. Pleasure and pain. Whoever had said they went well together..? She was going to fucking kill them.

She used every ounce of strength she had left to focus on the pleasure, to cling to every moment she had ever had with Faith, good and bad. All of it, because every second of those memories was so much better then this. Anything was better then this. And Faith’s words, the last ones she had heard her speak in the instant before a kiss…

‘I’m gonna save you, B… I swear it. I am going to save you.’

…they were her mantra. They drowned out the obscenities, the threats, the promises… everything that Angelus was offering her. The things he was doing to her. They kept alive the final piece of hope in her body. That once… just one more time, she would be able to see Faith.

The sudden silence in the lair was as deafening as the noise had been. It confused Buffy. Disorientated her. As she slowly took the effort to open her eyes, she didn’t half wonder, maybe pray… that it HAD all been a nightmare. The in bed, eyes shut tight, nothing’s really real, kind of nightmare.
But it wasn’t. The pain was still too fresh for her to have truly believed it anyway.

Her necked strained as she turned her head, all the muscles protesting against movement, begging for maybe, just a moments more rest. But curiosity was too much, she had to know what was happening, what was going on, what her fate was to be.

The demons were paying her no mind, all their thoughts concentrating on the Vampire in the corner. He was being anointed, his body painted with the symbols of the great King Nylorac, made ready for the union, the opening of gates, the return to existence. It was so close now. Tonight after sunset it would begin, and then it would end. Nylorac would rise.

Angelus could feel the power infusing his body as the symbols were painted upon him, whatever it was they were using was sinking beneath his skin, finding it’s way into his veins, un-tethering his soul, the need for the hissing less now. Let them save their voices as he had saved his strength. All he could think to himself was ‘not long now’ and that finally she would be his. Buffy would be his. It almost made him happy.

Buffy herself, closed her eyes, relented against her neck muscles. She didn’t need to see. Didn’t need to know. She already KNEW. It wouldn’t be long now, and she would be his.

A nagging voice just wouldn’t go away though.

‘I’m gonna save you, B.”

Keeping her there. Keeping her sane. She wanted so much to believe it. Because if there was one thing that she was sure of, more then sure of. She sure as hell needed saving. A whole lot of saving.

In the boardroom of W&H there was also a sudden silence, the hum of chatter and excitement brought to an end. Faith had entered the room. There was a time before, when Faith entering a room would have meant happy times, jokes, banter… a whole lot of crudeness. All the slayers knew her, some well, some not so well, and some of them considered her a friend. Ones like Kennedy who had bore witness the last few days to the absolute pain that Faith was going through. It ripped at her, tore into her… yet still she kept going. She was an inspiration. That was why the room had quietened. Out of respect.

Faith glanced around, not seeing faces, only numbers. This was it. Tonight was the night. Party time. They were just waiting to hear from Dawn, hear word from the coven that everything was set. That Willow’s spell had indeed uncovered Buffy’ whereabouts, the correct time for the ritual. She knew it had. She trusted in Willow and her abilities as a witch. She could also feel it inside, her heart beating out the seconds… a tingle so slight, a warmth so vague… it pulled at her, niggled at her, as if Buffy herself was letting her know. Was calling to her to come. To keep her word. To save her.

As she totted up figures in her head, mentally calculated who was going with whom, which girl was leading which group, she hoped and prayed that it would be enough, that she could save her. It was in her nature to have confidence, to be the cocky one, always leading into a battle… not so hot on the planning, but this was different. Her bravado felt like shit in the face of losing Buffy, counted for nothing. She gathered her wits about her, shrugged Kennedy’s supporting hand from the base of her back… she walked to the front of the room alone. The leader.

“Guys…”

Everyone’s eyes were already on her, she took a deep breath, prepared for a speech.

“… first off, thank you. I mean it… each and everyone of you. None of you had to be here today, no-one is forcing you… you CHOSE to be here. Offered to be here. It means a lot to me… means everything to me. What we have, what we do… it’s a calling, a curse, a gift. The best and the worst…”

Understanding nods went through the ‘audience’. Truth was being spoken.

“…but no-one can MAKE us do it. No-one can force us against our will to put our lives on the line for the sake of good, never a thank you, not even acknowledgement… We do it because of the person we are… the person we want to be…”

She thought of Buffy. Every thought was for Buffy.

“…the person she makes us be.”

For a second it seemed as though her voice would crack, the weight of her words too much for her to handle. But it didn’t; SHE didn’t.

“Buffy’s always been a leader, always been the one at the front of the room inspiring everyone to follow her, to trust in her. But tonight she can’t be here… tonight the scum sucking evil that she helps put in the ground is looking to return the favour, looking to take one of our own… the best of our own.”

Everyone’s shoulders squared. Words inspiring them to be ready to give their best. To give their all. To be slayers.

“I say we don’t let that happen. I say we go down there and make slime pie of every piece of shit that dares stand in our way, show them what a slayer is, what a slayer means… show them why this city is OUR city.”

The answering hum of the girls was like music to Faith’s ears, she could feel the electricity as it charged the air around her, warriors replacing girls, a battle ready to be fought.

“Buffy isn’t theirs… was never theirs. She ours. She’s one of us… and I say we go bring her home!

The roar of the slayers wasn’t triumphant, wasn’t an orgy of excitement. It was a cry of readyness. Ready to fight. Ready to win. They had learnt well.

Kennedy stepped forward, she had shown herself, to be ready to lead the last few days. Quick to offer suggestions, to volunteer for one more job, anything else to help. Now she issued Faith’s orders. Repeated instructions to each of the team leaders, clarified directives. Everyone was ready. All they needed was the go ahead. The call from England.

They didn’t wait long.

Faith settled herself in Angel’s chair as the call was put through, Dawn appearing as if by magic on the screen in front of them.

“Hey, Dawnie… what’s the word? We all systems go..?”

“Hi, Willow, yes. Definitely. They went over everything… agreed with the texts for a change…”

She chuckled slightly at that, not for long, but was rewarded with an answering chuckle from Giles. They often had ‘run-ins’ with the coven over what held more truth… magic or literature. Very rarely did they agree. Giles was glad that this time they had. He could not bear it if Buffy didn’t make it, had only grown to love her more since she hadn’t been his slayer. His charge.

Final words of the plan were exchanged between England and LA, they were preparing to offer goodbyes, when Dawn spoke again. Not so much the woman now, just the scared girl, the little sister of Buffy.

“Faith..?”

“What is it, Dawn?”

“Promise you’ll save her..? Please..? Just promise me?”

The emotion poured from the screen, the time delay between sound and mouth not dampening the pain etched across Dawn’s features… the begging in her voice.

“I…”

Faith didn’t know what she could say, she hadn’t even promised herself that she would save Buffy, so terrified was she of tempting the fates. But how could she refuse..? This was Dawn, and she wanted so bad to offer her the comfort she hadn’t been able to find for herself.

“…oh god, Dawn… I swear to you, if there’s anything I can do… any chance that I can save her, that I can bring her back to you..? I promise I’ll do it. On my life, Dawn. I promise.”

It was the best she had to offer. She was prepared to die trying. It was EVERYTHING she had to offer.

Dawn silently disappeared as the connection was cut. That was it. All systems go. Willow approached Faith, a question to ask, a just in case to consider.

“Faith, should I prepare a spell for Angel, for his soul… just in case, if we can save him..?”

The room froze, everyone turned to see the verdict. To hear Faith’s words. They came out flat. Dead.

In her head she was seeing thousands of images, flooded by thousands of memories. The first years old, her and Buffy, side by side, fighting evil. Drawn together like an unstoppable force, heading towards a euphoric conclusion. But then he was there. On the sidelines. Always. Watching, waiting, claiming. The girl was his. She was alone.

The next an alleyway, the end of a line. She remembered her words, her pleas. ‘Angel… just do it! Please, just do it! Kill me. Just kill me.’

But he hadn’t. He wouldn’t. He had saved her.
So many more, so many times… so much he had done.

Finally her images flashed to Buffy, felt her heart break at the view, tug at the feeling.

‘He hurts me, Faith… he HURTS me.’

Felt the pain crash through her, knew it was real.

She shook her head clear, sucked in a breath, let out a sigh. Stared Willow straight in the eye. No one doubted the conviction with which she spoke.

“No, Red. Not this time… if he’s lost his soul… if he’s touched Buffy..? That’s it...”

She steeled herself then for what she knew she would have to do. For the action she had just assured herself she was prepared to take. To kill Angel.

“…No more chances.”

Part 21.

The slayers had split into two main groups for the upcoming battle. One group would go underground, would follow Willow’s directions and find Buffy. Save Buffy. The other group would man the shoreline, beat back any slime that looked for a short cut into the city, and if the worst came to the worst..? If the prophesy was fulfilled..? Then these would be the first people preparing to face the king. To protect humanity. Wes and Giles had researched every single little nugget of information that they had been able to uncover about Nylorac, spent days reading and re-reading, cross referencing until at last they had settled upon a possible description of the King. Although he was in fact very large, the size they had first been led to believe was a myth. He could never swallow the whole of the western coastline in one go. They estimated that it would take at least two sittings.

Now that the slayers had left, Giles slumped in his chair and buried his head in his hands, he didn’t fight battles anymore, not really… not much past the odd vampire or two, just to keep his hand in. But today he had wanted to fight. Had argued with Faith until he was blue in the face, but all to no avail. The only people fighting were slayers. Even Willow had a hard time convincing Faith to put her in the front line, only the fact that her magic could help, getting her a trip to the coast. No way was Faith letting her underground.

Wes and Gunn had also been relegated to the bench for the fight, Faith had seen them in the sewers, seen how little good they could do against the slime demons, wasn’t prepared to put them in there again. Wasn’t prepared to risk slayers lives to protect them. They had taken it hard, to them Angel was their responsibility too, their friend. Being brushed off had been a bitter pill to swallow, only accepting it in the end, because it made sense. They WERE crap against the Nyloraci. Wes was still carrying the bruised ribs from last time. This wasn’t the first occasion that he wished he possessed slayer strength and healing.

Deep underground the first army of slayers was already deeply entrenched in fighting. The directions had been correct, the lair was exactly where it should have been, but the girls couldn’t get near it. All the tunnels leading in were barricaded with demons, and as hard as they fought, the slayers were making slow progress. They knew they had to give more, had to go faster. The ‘ritual’ was due to happen at sunset, and the time was drawing ever closer.

The second army were in position along the coastline. Watching, waiting. Being watched. Demons were gathering, the horizon was almost blocked by the number of minions that had gathered for the Kings arrival. All of them waiting for sunset. Their time to come.

The sun it seemed though didn’t want to set. It hovered in the sky, dipping so slowly, as if it knew that it might not rise again. That giving up it’s place to the moon could mean an end of days. The demons lulled it on, urging it with the steady stream of chanting, the hissing rising up to batter the ears of the waiting girls.

The slayers were aware that the sun was losing it’s battle against nightfall, against dusk. As it finally disappeared, it‘s last rays vanishing, the girls all felt the familiar rush of blood, the keening of senses, a rising of power. This may be the time for the ritual, but more then that..? It was THEIR time. A slayers time.

Below the ground, the warring girls also felt the passing of the sun. Felt the moon rising, felt confirmation of their empowerment. They surged forward as one, an arrow of death, shooting through the demons and the defences until the lair was reached. Until finally they could see the reason they were all here; Buffy.

The altar seemed to raise right up from the centre of the room, just stone slabs, nothing fancy, no glitz, no glamour, a basic structure for a basic act. Faith’s eyes found it first, were drawn to it the moment she had entered the lair, at the front, leading. What she had seen had frozen her for an instant, she felt the urge to hurl, to vomit out the hurt from the depths of her soul. Buffy was there, tied there… restrained, her skin so sallow, the colour of bruises and bites so livid against the dullness of background. She didn’t seem aware of anything going on around her, she just lay there, broken.

The chanting filled the cavern, added to now by the yells of the slayers. They attacked full throttle, all of them desperate to clear a path to Buffy, to stop the prophesy from coming to pass. Faith, herself, went into overdrive, drawing on everything she’d ever known as a fighter, utilising every muscle, attacking anything that moved. She HAD to get to Buffy. Not only had she witnessed her laying there, defeated, but she had also seen Angelus. Seen him approaching the naked form, seen him touching her, seen him preparing to banish his soul forever in the woman she loved. It was pushing her forwards, calling her on. Drawing her closer and closer.

Angelus was aware of the intrusion, knew the slayers were there. Had expected them. It didn’t stop him, didn’t phase him… he had waited too long to posses Buffy, nothing would stop him from fulfilling his desire, from claiming his prize. He stalked her now, touching her flesh with the cold of his fingers. Caressing the blemishes which still marked her skin, his markings, his work. It made him proud. He leant forward and ran his tongue across her neck, her last wound was still open, still seeping a thin river of blood, and he allowed it to tickle his senses, arouse his lust, let his teeth sink back in as he mounted the altar to be with her.

As he positioned himself between the legs of a helpless Buffy, Angelus allowed his eyes to roam across the battle raging around him, every act he committed sought to utilise pain, and now he wanted to find Faith. To share with her this ultimate moment, the moment when he would take Buffy, and then kill Buffy. His perfect moment of happiness.

Faith could feel his eyes as they fell upon her, felt the hairs raise across the back of her neck, felt the cold dread seep through her body, turned and met his gaze. Froze with understanding. It was if the world melted away for her then, as if what was going on around her ceased to exist, his eyes were drawing her in, holding her captive. In her mind she was thrown again into the alley, begging, pleading with Angel to make it end, to kill her, to release her, only this time it wasn’t Angel’s ears that her pleas fell upon. It was Angelus laughing down at her, allowing her to beat his chest, to scream her pain.

She could hear his words in her ears as if it was real, it felt so real.

“I would’ve done it, Faith. I WILL do it.”

And then she could feel it. His teeth in her. His mouth at her. It felt exactly like last time, he was tearing at her throat, gulping down her life, and she was getting weaker and weaker, could feel herself giving up. Feel herself slipping away.

“Faith!”

Kennedy’s screams released her from her binds. Her mind freed from the hold Angelus had exerted upon it, and not a moment too soon. She ducked under the swinging arm of a demon, and swept his feet from under him, making sure her fist connected with such force to his head, that she wouldn’t have to waste time with second shots.

“Thanks, Ken.”

“Don’t mention… now get Buffy, I’ve got your back!”

Faith focused her attention again on the altar, what she saw making her scream out obscenities. He was on her, Angelus had mounted her, was drinking from her neck, Buffy just lying there pliant, no fight left in her. Barely life left in her.

She threw herself forwards then, parting the demons like the red sea, gaining ground with every second, almost close enough, almost there. She could feel her fist tightening around her stake, aware of nothing but the feel of wood against skin, the power in her arm. Seeing the monster violating Buffy had stripped her to her most base form, the warrior inside taking over all that she was. As her eyes watched him thrust into her, she felt her arm drawing back, preparing, she was aware as he lifted his head and his eyes locked with her again, saw his blood tainted smile as it twisted his face, saw the delight he was taking in making Buffy his prey. The next instant she felt her own thrust, felt her arm fly forward, her hand release, her stake thrown. Witnessed the euphoric expression on Angelus’ face as he felt the soul preparing to be finally gone from his body, saw it burning bright in his eyes, heard the stake hit home. Her gaze fell immediately to his chest, witnessed her perfect strike, her piercing of his heart, felt the thrill of slayer lust as the vampire turned to dust.

It shocked her.

She had thought in the hours leading up to this, in the days just gone, that this would have been hard, that staking Angel would destroy a part of her. But at the moment, for the first second, she was only aware of the joy. Of the kill.

And then her eyes fell on Buffy.

She looked so small. So empty. Just a lifeless body, laying chained to an altar.

The slayers who had been manning the coastline had been semi aware of what was happening under the ground. As the sun had set, the demons had spilled forth from the sea, encroaching upon their land, their city. They had fought them well, fought them valiantly… had each of them seen the silhouette of Nylorac as he had begun to appear before them. A great shadow cast across the sea, waiting for the final moment when the gate to his hell would be opened and he would be freed. They had also seen AND heard the instant in which that was foiled, the demons as they began to screech, no longer hissing, but screaming out their failure, their extinction. Could not know whether Buffy had been saved, only that Angelus had been stopped, that the demons no longer had a reason for being here, that they died much easier once their existence was futile.

Willow was using her magics. Trying to reach out and find the minds of the people she loved. To ascertain that they were all ok, that they had all made it. That none of them had died. But she couldn’t find all of the minds, couldn’t make a connection, and a silent tear left her eye as she realised what that meant.

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