He was lifting rocks, and tossing them away from the fallen opening. Big, small, it didn't matter, he kept lifting and tossing, ignoring the scratches on his arms and hands, or the blood that kept running into his eyes from his head-wound. None of it mattered, there were three innocents on the other side of the stone rubble, three young people who he felt a strong responsibility for. They wouldn't have been in this godforsaken place if he'd been successful in his duties, if he'd kept them from discovering the Slayer and the truth about Sunnydale.
He hadn't. He had failed in his most sacred duty, and now, they were trapped in that cavern, facing a demon that even in Ripper, in all of his testosterone based stupidity, would never have dared to raise.
Those children were painfully mortal, their only special knowledge was that demons were real, and a Slayer guarded the Hellmouth. They had no weapon, no supernatural strength, nothing with which to defend themselves. While he, with all his knowledge of things arcane, was on this side of the cave safe from the demon's rage, standing in an opening where freedom was less than a breath away. So, he bent once more and kept right on tossing the rocks, digging his way to the children's tomb.
"Move, Giles." Two slim hands gently closed about his shoulders, pulling him away from the piles of stone. Pushing him back against the wall, Buffy pulled her bandana scarf from her neck, and pressed it into her Watcher's hand. "Let us dig. We'll save them, Giles. We have to."
How she knew her friends were trapped in there, or the danger they were in was beyond him. Prognostication wasn't Buffy's strongest skill; it was the rare occasion that she interpreted her dreams as the warnings that they were.
Looking past Buffy, he watched Faith and Angel work cooperatively, heaving rocks with supernatural strength. His own progress, in comparison, paled to what they were accomplishing in minutes. "Hurry." He relented to their strength with just one word.
Buffy nodded once and joined her Slaying twin, the two girls and vampire working in estranged silence, but as a team.
Mopping at his brow, he admired their grace, their energy, and the constructive way the trio worked in concert. Why did it always take an absolute disaster to bring out the very best in these three people? Why could they not put aside their distrust of one another and work towards removing the world of vampires on a day to day basis?
Why did their friends have to die for them to unite?
The Watcher shuddered, pressing Buffy's scarf to his forehead, stopping the blood from weeping out of the nasty, but shallow, cut on his head. The demon's attack had startled him, throwing him back against the wall beside the opening. Demons and Brits did not qet along at all well, but apparently, falling rocks and good loyal subjects to the British Empire were an even poorer social mix.
"Got an opening." Faith's voice jarred him from his reverie. "But the ceiling's too weak. It keeps collapsing." The girl grunted, as if in response to another falling rock, steadfastly she kept her arm in position, preventing them from loosing that precious foothold to their friends.
Angel shouldered in to stand beside her, perched precariously on the rather uneven surface of boulder's that surrounded that tiny little opening. "Move." He ordered peremptorily. "On the count of three."
One perfect dark eyebrow arched, and Giles could see Faith's back tighten with the urge to stake. She was just as much the predator as Angelus. Angelus would hear a heartbeat and itch to bite, whereas Faith would sense a vampire and immediately develop a keen ache to stake. How they resisted their instinctive urges were quite beyond Giles kenning.
"One." Angel pressed his shoulder against the impromptu wall the blocked their passage. "Two." He reached out, his arm hovered in parallel to Faith's. "Three." Smoothly, Faith retracted her arm, and Angel lunged in, sticking not only his arm into the opening, but his shoulder. Knees bent, and he heaved, pushing the opening wider as he took the entire weight of the passage onto his back. "Uhhh." His grunt was testimony to the pressure on him, his knees straightened slowly, creating a passable opening. "GO!"
Buffy, Faith and Giles launched themselves into the opening, mindless of the danger on the other side, and totally disregarding the risk that Angel would loose his grip on that opening and they would be trapped forever.
Giles heard the growls, and could see the flash of light off into the distance. Relief swept through him. The children were alive, and they had apparently moved, using the opportunity of the cave in to find a safe alcove to hide in. Although, how they expected to avoid a demon in a finite space was something he'd dearly like to understand. "Over there." He pointed, almost amused as Buffy and Faith honed into the Demon's general locale like two bloodhounds.
In one smooth motion, two wrists flicked, and stakes fell into strong, but petite hands. They were the perfect harmony of humanity's saviors, the most pre-eminent huntresses to ever evolve out of mortal man. From the moment the stakes entered their grips, both girls, one light and one dark, focussed solely on the kill. "Let's go." Buffy's voice dropped a note, her own version of a growl.
Silently, they ran. Giles didn't even try to keep up. He had a good thirty years on the girls, and too many strained muscles from training sessions with two prime Slayers. Most Watchers had the dubious pleasure of working out with and training one Slayer. How he had ever landed himself in this position was boggling. The medical coverage of the Watcher's Association didn't even begin to cover the damage those two young women regularly did to his tired body.
They emerged onto an escarpment, looking down into a cavernous valley. "Gee, this seems almost familiar." Buffy muttered irritably. Her eyes scanned the valley, ignoring the rather obvious demon while searching for her friends. "There."
Giles followed Buffy's gaze, his shoulder's relaxing to see three very living bodies out there. "Thank you, God." He whispered softly, relieved that he had not failed those children.
Cordelia hung back against the cavern wall, her body shielded by both Oz and Willow's. That itself, that was not unusual. Cordelia had a well-established survival instinct. In situations of extreme stress or danger, the girl would use any means to safeguard her life.
The demon howled, arching back on it's forelegs to scream down at the trio. "Move, move, move." Giles found himself muttering at the threesome, watching as the creature raised one black scaly fore claw. A sickly green light grew, little bolts of unholy energy dancing between the claws as the power built up. It was significantly stronger than the last time, immensely stronger than when it had struck the side of the cave and collapsed the one entire wall.
They wouldn't survive this blast.
"Buffy, Faith - do something!" Giles shouted, feeling it was too late.
It could have been slow motion, something from out of those horrid horror movies Xander Harris insisted on watching while Buffy was practicing. The sudden chill, the timeless pause between moments when your body was frozen, unable to move, and yet painfully aware of what was coming.
For the rest of his life, nothing would compare to the depth of horror Giles felt, watching tiny Willow Rosenberg push Oz away, thrusting him back towards Cordelia and then take a step towards the Demon. He wanted to shout, ached to scream a denial or plea to the heavens, and yet, his tongue was as heavy as lead.
Her fingers reached up, dancing swiftly, arcanely in a pattern she should never have learned. In his mind's eye, the sigils burned hotly with power in a path that would have a heavy cost even if it were to succeed.
Her hand paused, elbow dropping until her fist rested parallel to her cheekbone. In a sudden whipping action, her arm launched out into the center of the invisible pattern she'd sketched into the air.
"WILLOW!" Buffy gasped. The sudden radiance that enshrouded Willow and coalesced about the demon astonished her. The Slayer's hand reached out to tug on Giles tattered tweed jacket. "What is she doing!"
Giles shook off her hand, running for a way down to the bottom of the escarpment, towards Willow. "She's obliterating it." He shouted back.
Faith clucked her tongue. "Wow." She sniffed. "So, what did they need us for?" Irreverently, she adjusted her grip on her stake, and used the sharp end to clean out rock dust from beneath her nails.
Buffy wasn't listening. "Giles doesn't run." She muttered, beginning to follow him. "Not unless it's really a bad sitch. Very bad. Like, death and destruction badness." Her eyes landed on Willow's face, noting the absolute whiteness, the defined lines on her best friend's brow, and the way her teeth were biting into her lips unto the point of bleeding. "Oh no!"
Faith looked up just in time to see Buffy jump off the cliff.
* * *
It hurt. Her lungs felt leaden, eyes burned, and her throat too tight to say a word. Still, the pain of Cordelia and Oz chilliness towards her paled when compared to the agony of her own guilt.
Even Death on her Doorstep with it's fangs, claws and green lightning-bolts didn't take the pain away. From the moment they'd found themselves working with Giles, Cordelia had launched into Willow about what a slut she was, how she had coldly manipulated Xander into just where she wanted him, and how she had used Oz in a manner far worse than anything Cordy herself had ever done.
The problem was, Cordelia was right. For all her snobbish airs, Cordelia Chase had never poached on a friend's boyfriend.
And Oz hadn't defended Willow once. His silence cut just as deep as Cordelia's words. Looking at him, his short almost blond hair, and the ever present sadness and betrayal reflected in his eyes just cut Willow to pieces. How could she have done this to him? Why had she let herself kiss Xander? She knew it was wrong, she didn't want Xander, she wanted Oz. So why did she have to screw it all up?
The Demon bellowed. Unfortunately, there were no earth-shattering revelations in that. Staring up at the creature, Willow shuddered. The guilt didn't matter, nothing did. If they survived this, she could work to rebuilding Oz's lost faith in her. Where there was life, there was always hope. And a little Faith or Buffy wouldn't have been too remiss right about then, either.
Less than twenty minutes later, hope started to fade. The creature's blasts were getting stronger. Their last shelter, a huge outcropping of stalagmites, had provided the perfect maze to hide in. Ever moving from pillar to pillar, they'd had perhaps five minutes of respite between blasts. Still, it had only taken three blasts to level the entire area, and they'd escaped with mere seconds to spare.
"Well, I hope you're happy Willow Rosenberg." Cordelia bit off bitterly, leaning against the rear wall of the cavern, her entire body shielded from the demon's sight by the rock overhang. "First you screw around on your boyfriend with mine, and then you get us killed. I suppose this is so you can have Xander all to yourself."
It was like being shot, in the way the jolt ripped through Willow. At first, the astonishment that Cordelia could even think it, then the disgust at what the brunette had said, and finally, the rage, when Oz didn't dispute it, and Cordelia didn't retract the accusation but embellished.
"Tell me, how long did it take you to decide to summon a demon? Did you get Xander to hold the spellbook?"
"How DARE you!" Willow turned about, her voice becoming soft but frigid. "I can't believe you'd say that of me! I make one mistake, and I become a murderer?"
"It's just a step away from being a boyfriend stealing slut." The kid gloves were obviously off. "I don't know what to think of you anymore. I never thought YOU were the kind to grope another girl's boyfriend."
Willow winced. As long as Cordelia kept raising up that specter, Oz would never forgive her. Shaking her head, but admitting defeat, she turned away. 'We're going to die, and they'll both still hate me.'
The creature eased back onto its haunches. From physical appearance, it eerily resembled the old mythological gryphons. It had a falcon's head, serpent's neck and lion's body, all in the blackest of blacks. When the black beak parted revealing rows of sharp teeth, and a long serpentine tongue that whipped out to test the air.
Willow couldn't remember its name, she'd only seen it in passing in one of the older text's Giles had in his private collection. What it did, though, she had a full recollection of. With the lightning, or energy, it unleashed it evaporated any living creature, feeding off the destruction of a soul. In scientific terms, it fed through the conservation of matter.
'I wonder if total instant incineration hurts?' She asked herself rhetorically.
The creature raised one massive forearm, the paw curling into a loose fist. "This is bad." It was the first words Oz had said, since they'd met earlier that evening at the library, that had included Willow. "There's no where else to run." He sighed, resigned.
Willow slanted a look at him, not turning her head. The sorrow in his eyes, the distance he'd created between them was as present as the resignation in his face. It just broke Willow's heart one more time. He was too sweet, and far too kind for this world, she sometimes believed. No matter what, for all they had been through, neither Cordelia nor Oz deserved to be in this situation, to see death hovering above them.
Maybe it was the feeling of the energy being evoked, or the sudden awareness of death's imminence, but Cordelia let go of her bitter complaints, and whimpered. Despite all the fury Cordy had raised in her, earlier, Willow felt it all dissipate in one solid rush. 'There HAS to be something. I've got to do something. Think, Rosenberg...'
Adrenaline kicked in viciously, setting a door open in her mind. Words, text and concepts she'd only noticed in passing suddenly clicked, coming together with deadly precision and understanding. 'If it never existed, it can't destroy... If I undo it's creation....' The most forbidden thought in all of nature, one that magic was even required to obey. What nature had created, no man or woman could rend unsunder. But, creatures of unnatural creation were in the gray areas of magic's rules.
The green light had given way to the sparks of the upcoming blast. There were perhaps seconds left before the demon unleashed it's fury. Beside her, Willow heard Oz suck in a disbelieving breath. 'I can't let you die. I can't. I lost your heart, but I won't lose you life.' She swore in pure silence, reaching out to shove Oz back against the cavern wall with all the strength she could muster.
Twisting, her she reached up, letting her subconscious mind dictate her body's actions. The spell required a sigil, which she sketched out swiftly, and easily. Curves formed loops, and loops dissolved into complex lines as the pattern was formed. To her inner-eye, it glowed with the pure white fire of life. The pattern was complete, and she paused, admiring the deadly beauty of the death-spell. 'Wow.' Brown eyes softened for a moment, a thousand thoughts all racing together and culminating in one final whisper. "I'm sorry."
She didn't strike out with the Slayer's strength, but with her own, her fist slamming through the center of the sigil, shattering life brutally. Like the splitting of an atom, the power raised was incredible and destructive. It was also all Willow's to control, for now.
The Demon howled, unleashing it's storm, and Willow raised both her hands and faced it alone and undaunted. Power danced, lacing into her body and blood with the same intoxication of champagne. Once a bright white of pure energy, it was now a ruby-red, and it tore through the demon's blast, and surrounded the demon before it began to falter. 'NOOOOO!' Willow closed her eyes, and bit down on her lip in concentration. Her body felt too heavy, her arms were struggling to stay upright. 'I --have--to--hold--on!' Sweat dripped down her face, or was it tears? Her head was throbbing, a side effect of unprepared magic, she knew.
The Demon roared, and took a step towards her. There was no time or energy for thought, just a quick heave of her chest indicated the panic Willow felt. 'I have to DO this!'
*What will you give for their lives?*
Willow's eyes popped open. Without turning back to look, she knew it wasn't Oz or Cordelia who had spoken. That voice wasn't human. It wasn't even really a voice, more like a feeling or a personality than a sound.
*What price will you give for their lives?* It asked again.
Was it her subconscious? If so, it was a dumb question. "Everything. I'd give everything." Her life, her soul, her body and anything else that was hers to give just to know that she had saved Oz and Cordelia's life.
*Agreed*
Power slipped through her, filling her veins with a force unlike anything Willow had ever dreamed. It should have destroyed her body from inside out, the magnitude of it all. Instead, though, it was discharged on the demon.
Second by second, she felt every painful inch of the creature's destruction. She felt it die, and then come apart on a cellular level. It didn't stop there, the destruction continued onto a molecular level and further until the creature was removed from time's fabric altogether.
And her power died with the creature. 'Ohhhh' Willow's arms dropped, shoulder's sagging with a weariness beyond comprehension. Amazing how dark the cave was without the green lights, or the red glory of power. Dark, warm and safe, like a mother's womb.
"WILLOW!" Giles voice seemed so distant, and it must have been; he was on the otherside of the cave-in.
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