Suki Blue Fiction

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Chapter 32

Suddenly everything was happening. After spending what seemed like endless restless hours at Angel’s mansion, skulking and pacing and driving Spike crazy, now they were standing outside the entrance to a mausoleum preparing to save the world. It was like they’d waited forever and then flash! here they were.

“We should just go.” Xander was bouncing nervously. He couldn’t stand still and he couldn’t understand how Spike could be such a picture of calmness. “She’s already gone down, right? Has she? We should go now!”

“No.” Spike flicked ash from his cigarette and looked over his shoulder. “We wait for Angel.”

“Why?!”

“Three go down, remember?”

“Our sex life has nothing to do with this.” Xander caught himself at that. “And euw.”

“We wait,” Spike said, only really half listening but glancing warily around him.

“It’s quiet, huh?”

“Very. Everybody’s converging.”

“Exactly! They’re converging at the library! We should have told Giles that. We should be doing something! Now!”

“We will do something, Xan, but not right now. Gotta get the timing right.” Spike looked at his watch. “Prophecies are tricky things. Don’t want to be early.”

“But if it’s a prophecy, doesn’t it come to pass, no matter what? Isn’t that kind of the point?”

Spike looked helplessly at him. “I don’t know, luv. I’m in the dark as much as you are.”

“That’s comforting.”

Spike took his hand and squeezed it. “I don’t know much about prophecies and all that bollocks, but I do know about fighting and staying alive – so to speak. I’ve offed two Slayers and I’ve faced down demons that would make Angelus wet the bed. Let’s leave the book stuff and the timing to him and let me do what I do best.”

“Death and slaughter?”

“Absolutely.”

Beneath the obvious worry, Spike looked a little proud and Xander couldn’t help finding it cuter than cute. Spike was confident and cocky and it was for good reason. He really had fought and killed two Slayers and he’d lived an unlife packed full of demons of all descriptions. If there was anyone Xander wanted by his side, it was Spike.

“Let’s go! It’s time!” In the distance the blurred figure of Angel came running at a speed that made Xander a little bit cross-eyed.

“Looks like Benny Hill, doesn’t he?” Spike whispered.

“Who?”

“Never mind.”

“It’s time,” Angel said again, his eyes wide and his fist clenched tightly around a shining silver sword.

“The Annoying One’s leading her down?” Spike asked, and Angel nodded and pushed past them, opening the door to the mausoleum and slipping inside.

“This is it, luv,” Spike said, one hand to Xander’s cheek. “Ready?”

Xander nodded, his mouth suddenly dry and his grip on his very cool battle axe suddenly weak.

“You’ll do great, pet. I’ll be watching you, yeah? Just aim that thing at his neck and don’t bloody drop it.”

Spike took his hand and led him into the mausoleum. It was the same tomb he’d followed Buffy through so many months before, looking for Jesse and finding a shadow of him instead. He dimly wondered: if Spike was William’s shadow, then what must William have been like?

They passed through the mausoleum and into the tunnels. There were no signs of any vampires and Xander was surprised at that, even though Angel had already said as much. Even driving to the cemetery it had felt quiet, like something was missing, and it made Xander really think about how much of Sunnydale’s population was actually human. Were humans even the majority anymore?

The tunnels were much like Xander remembered them: dark, smelly and unpleasant. The ground felt damp beneath his sneakers and the walls looked no better. Angel stayed in front, striding quickly, and Xander did his best to keep up, Spike at their side making Xander feel much safer than he probably should have.

They stopped at an intersection and Angel looked both ways before he chose the right-hand tunnel and continued on.

“You do know where we’re going, don’t you?” Xander asked, feeling altogether creeped out by the lack of adversaries. Not that it was a bad thing; it was just creepy.

Angel didn’t answer him and that was fine; he hadn’t been expecting an answer.

A hand on his back guided him around another corner. “Alright?” Spike asked, appearing next him, looking altogether confident once again.

“I’m many things right now, but I can’t honestly say ‘alright’ is one of them. Freaked, there’s a good word. Freaked and heading towards Therapy Land. I’m also wishing I had a sword like you guys.” He held up his axe. “This feels kinda pathetic.”

Spike shook his head. “You’re not ready for a sword. You’d cut off your own toes.”

“Shh!” Angel reprimanded from in front. He turned and glared.

“He was checking out my neck!” Xander hissed to Spike when Angel had turned back around and disappeared down the next tunnel. “Did you see that?!”

Spike was clearly trying not to grin. “What can I say, luv? I did tell him to eat before we left.”

Xander ignored him and concentrated on not losing sight of Angel. The tunnel complex was exactly that and he was completely grateful that he had Bloodhound!Angel to lead the way. Of course, Spike was perfectly capable of leading them, but Xander felt better with Spike at his side.

“Do you think we’ll see him?” Xander asked. “The Master?”

There was a blinding flash from in front, and they all stopped.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Spike said.

“It’s too late? He’s gone up?”

“It’s okay,” Angel said. “We knew this would happen.” He ran forward and around towards where the light had been.

“We did?” Xander asked. He and Spike quickly followed Angel, Xander’s grip on the axe so tight his fingers were numb. “Oh god.”

Angel looked up from where he crouched, Buffy’s body in his arms. “She’s dead.”

“No,” Xander whispered. “She’s not dead.”

“She is,” Spike said. “And she’ll stay that way unless you do your stuff.”

“Right. Right. Oh god.” Xander dropped down to his knees at Buffy’s side. He took off his jacket and Angel placed it over her, then Xander covered her lips with his own and breathed.

“C’mon, c’mon,” he said, pushing down on her chest and covering her mouth again.

“Why isn’t it working?!” Angel cried. “Try harder!”

“I am!” Xander pushed more air into her lungs and pumped her chest. “C’mon! Jeeze, this is the suckiest prophecy ever.”

Buffy jerked awake, coughing up water and spluttering, her chest heaving with life. “Tell me about it,” she managed.

Xander still wasn’t sure exactly what she knew, whether she’d known she was going to die and if she had, whether she’d known that Xander was supposed to bring her back. She looked surprised to see him, so Xander figured maybe not.

He and Angel helped her up, but once she was steady Xander stepped back and let Angel help her.

“The Master?” she asked.

“He’s gone up,” Angel replied.

Xander felt Spike’s hand on his arm. “How you doing, luv?”

Xander nodded at him. “Okay. Halfway there, huh?”

“That’s the spirit. Not long now and it’ll all be…” Spike stopped speaking mid-sentence and stared and Xander turned to see what had caught his attention.

“Buff?” Xander said.

Glaring, her eyes filled with hate and loathing, Buffy stepped towards them.

“Get out of the way, Xander. He’s a vampire.”

Without even thinking, Xander stepped right in front of Spike. “We really don’t have time to explain right now, but this is Spike and he’s been helping us.”

She stopped and looked sceptically at them.

“Angel knows him!” Xander tried. “Really, Buffster, Spike’s not the problem.”

“Buffy, the Master,” Angel reminded.

“How do I know I can trust him?” Buffy asked, still glaring at Spike and Spike glaring right back.

Xander wasn’t so sure she could trust him, not if things went wrong from here on. If Xander faced the Anointed One and died then all bets were off. Xander had no doubt that Spike would destroy everything in his path, Xander’s friends included.

“You don’t,” Xander said. “None of us do. But here’s the thing: he’s helping us and we need him.”

“I don’t need him,” Buffy said.

“Maybe not. But I do, okay? Maybe you can’t trust him but you need to trust me. I think I just earned that right.”

“This reeks of emotional blackmail.” Buffy’s lips quirked at one corner. “But I’ll deal. Just watch him.”

Xander released a long breath. He put his hands together as though in prayer. “Thank you.”

**

Their walk back to the school was relatively unobstructed. There were a few bad guys along the way, but Buffy dispatched each one in turn with a witty pun and the quick plunge of a stake.

“I always thought she’d be chattier,” Spike said, his voice low. He was keeping his distance so he and Xander were walking behind Buffy and Angel, staying out of striking range.

“She’s just focused. I can’t believe she’s taken this so well.”

“Right,” Spike said with a forced chuckle. “Well, firstly, she’s under pressure and doesn’t have a lot of choice and secondly, she doesn’t know that you and I are slipping between the sheets together. I reckon she’ll have a bit more to say when she finds out that little titbit.”

“But her and Angel…”

“I really don’t think he’s getting any.”

“Hardly the point, Spike. I meant, she’s seeing a vampire; why can’t I?”

“Uh, probably because the one you’re seeing is a soulless, non-remorseful, evil genius while the one she’s seeing is just a plank with sharp teeth.”

They grinned at each other and for a moment Xander forgot his potentially terrible fate.

“This is it,” Buffy said.

They had made it to the school with only a few minor problems. It was likely to be trickier here considering the Hellmouth was opening from right beneath the library, but this was where the Master was and right now that was the only thing that mattered.

Buffy paused by the stairs to the roof. “You three wait here; keep the rest of the vampires off me. Game faces all around.”

Spike and Angel changed immediately and Xander lifted his axe. “You can count on us.”

Buffy’s gaze flicked briefly to Spike. “I hope so.”

**

The vampires came and were dusted in a steady stream and Spike was easily able to keep a close eye on Xander. He was doing well with the axe and Spike felt quite proud of him. Of course, he was going to have to train Xander in a wide range of weaponry. Vampires were the easiest demons to decapitate, but Xander would surely get a shock if he tried the same stunt on a Rubbabubba demon.

The violence was satisfying and with every crack of bone and whoosh of dust, Spike felt lifted. This was good. This was doable. This was-

“Oh, god…”

Spike turned around at Xander’s trembling voice. The Anointed One stood before them, just as short and stupid looking as Spike remembered him. He wasn’t going to be a problem. But the twenty or so vampires behind him? Yep, that was a problem.

“The Master didn’t know about you,” the little boy said, pointing at Xander. “But I know. I’m supposed to face you. I’m supposed to-”

Spike didn’t want to hear the rest of that sentence. He didn’t want to know what the rest of the prophecy said. Whatever would be would be. And there was no way that included Xander’s death, no fucking way.

“You’re supposed to curl up and die,” Spike snarled. His sword twirled in his hand and he lunged forward, pushing Xander out of the way and swinging the sword in a low, soaring arc that cut the air in two with an audible swish and swept towards the Anointed One’s neck.

But somewhere along the way, it all went wrong. The child’s hand extended and from his palm a great flash of light discharged, filling the room with magic bright enough to nearly blind.

Spike staggered and his body suddenly froze with pain. He heard a scream and he was sure it was Xander. That little shit hadn’t hurt his boy, had he?

“Spike, no, no, no…!”

Spike dropped to his knees and blinked, his vision spiralling and his chest burning white hot.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, this isn’t happening. Spike, please….”

“You alright, pet?” Spike asked. He tasted his own blood and it wasn’t half bad. He looked down at himself and was mildly surprised to see his sword sticking through his chest. “Oh, bugger.”

Xander was dragging him back, or at least trying to, but the sword was big and heavy and it was taking all of Spike’s strength to stay vaguely upright. “Run,” he said. “Luv, please run.”

“No way in hell. I’m not going anywhere. But you have to stay here, too. Don’t go all dusty on me, ‘kay?”

Spike’s eyes were stinging, watering madly, but he managed to focus on Xander’s face and his heart broke to see how scared he was. “Don’t worry, Xan. We’ll get…”

Xander gasped in pain and disappeared from view. Spike blinked again and as his vision cleared, he took in the chaos around him: scores of vampires, some running, some staying to fight and some gathered around the Anointed One.

Angel was busy delivering some truly stunning blows to his victims and Spike’s pain-ridden brain wondered if he was showing off for his bird, who had also joined the fight.

There were more humans here now: a middle-aged man with an old fashioned crossbow, Xander’s friend Willow with a broken hockey stick and a nice looking lady with ruby red lips, almost black hair and a big brown book – a witch. She uttered a curse and a jet of red vapour shot down the hall, knocking over every vampire in its path.

Xander was being held against the wall by his throat. He struggled for breath as he was lifted and kicked his feet wildly.

Angel knelt next to him. “Spike?”

“I’m fine.” He wasn’t fine, not at all, but he’d felt worse. “Help my Xan. Angel, please…” But when he looked up again, Xander wasn’t against the wall; he was being dragged towards the Anointed One, forced to his knees… “Angel, fuck…”

Angel ran and the room exploded with colour. Vivid streams of red and green and orange streaked over Spike’s head, felling the fleeing vampires, making them kick and punch at nothing. They screamed and writhed and Spike just hoped that it wouldn’t get him before he made sure Xander was okay. He had to be okay.

“Stop!” It was Buffy’s voice. She was such a tiny little thing, blonde and girlie and not the warrior that most of her predecessors had been, but her tone was commanding and the room froze, coming to attention. The magic faded and the screaming stopped.

“Everybody just calm down. Xand, you okay?”

Spike waited for the answer. He gripped the handle of the sword and just waited.

“I’m good.” From the weakness and desolation in his voice, he was anything but.

Spike counted to three, grit his teeth and silently pulled the sword from his chest. He swayed when it finally slid out, falling over backwards to prevent it falling noisily to the floor. He turned his head and spat more blood. Everything was spinning and the pain was nearly unbearable, but Spike managed to roll himself and climb to his knees, finally then pushing himself to his feet. His Xander was alive and he was bloody well going to stay that way even if it was last thing Spike ever did.

From what Spike could figure, which admittedly wasn’t very much, the Anointed One was in a pretty dire position. The Master surely was dead, most of his personal army had fled and all that remained was the Anointed One himself, and the vampire who had Xander on his knees.

The man in tweed, Giles probably, was slowly advancing, his crossbow aimed at the Anointed One. “Buffy, he must die.”

“But…he’s a child. We can’t… Can we?”

“Please don’t hurt me,” the Anointed One said. “He made me do it. The Master, he made me do things, horrible things…”

“Don’t listen to him, Buffy,” Giles said. “Trickery. He’s no more a child than I am a sports fan.”

The boy was far too close to Xander for Spike’s liking. Still on his knees, unmoving in front of the Anointed One, Xander was still, his face carefully blank from what Spike could see from the side.

Spike crept forward slowly, every movement a tumultuous effort. He had no idea how he was going to attack anyone. Even just carrying his sword by his side put pressure on his chest and made it scream with pain.

“You need to be sure, Giles,” Buffy said, somewhere to Spike’s left.

“Please don’t hurt me,” the child sobbed, then he looked at Xander and smirked.

Everything spun faster and Spike fell back to his knees, his sword clattering to the ground. Everyone turned and that was the break Spike needed. He looked up at Xander, grinned, “Mind your toes, pet,” and slid the sword to him. The last thing Spike saw, before everything went dark and silent, was the Anointed One exploding into a cloud of dirty brown dust.


TBC…