Chapter Twenty
The kranooks hidden home base was utterly ransacked. Tables were turned over, chairs were smashed, and what looked like the kranooks’ food was strewn about on floors and walls. The doors to the living quarters hung half off their hinges, and the bodies of several kranooks were piled in various spaces and corners of the cavernous space. Dust coated various objects, indicating that the kranooks had put up a good fight.
The scent of death hung in the sticky air, but Spike was used to this and to seeing places utterly destroyed. He noticed that Buffy wasn’t faring so well; though this surprised him, he wondered if her reaction had anything to do with the recent slaughter by Angelus. He saw her shiver and close her eyes for a few seconds and then open them again as if she was determined to stay in the moment.
Spike squeezed her hand. She smiled at him, and he knew that she was okay.
She then let go of his hand, hooked the torch into a handle on the wall, and pulled an ax out of a chair where someone or something had embedded the blade.
Spike heard a low whimper from behind one of the tables, and he picked his way through the mess to find a kranook curled around a deep gaping wound in his belly. The creature stared at him with pleading golden eyes, and Spike squatted next to the prone form.
“What can I do, mate?” he asked. Buffy joined him at his back.
“N-nothing. . . for me. Help them.” The hybrid raised his arm and pointed toward the tunnel that led to the surface. . . to Stephanie’s lair and the city.
“We got this,” Buffy assured him. “Willow restored Angel’s soul.”
The kranook closed his eyes in relief and sank into the ground, breathing becoming more ragged.
Spike bowed his head as the creature died, and then, he rose, scanning the room, searching for a weapon. He thought he spied something glinting in the torchlight, and Buffy must have seen it, too, because she marched over, pulling out a partially hidden sword. She tossed the weapon to Spike who caught the hilt with ease. He studied the adorned hilt; the jewels encrusted in the metal glinted and glittered in the torchlight.
“Fancy,” Buffy commented as she hurried to his side, and he slipped her a couple of stakes that he found abandoned nearby, keeping a third for himself.
“Thanks,” she said, sounding more serious than she’d been since they started this journey.
They’ve been at this crossroad before, and to Spike, it never felt different. . . the sense of dread infused with the excitement that this might again be the end of his life and hers.
“You feel it, pet?”
She nodded. “I do.”
He considered sweeping her up into a passionate kiss for luck, but he hesitated because that’s what Angel would do. . . had done, and that felt a bit like it might jinx them somehow. . . that one of them might die, and he didn’t want that, not when they’d just figured things out and broken through the damned, seemingly impenetrable brick wall between them.
Buffy stroked his cheek then, the fire from the torches bright in her eyes, and she kissed him with deliberately slow, gentle reverence. He leaned into the kiss, relishing how warm her skin was, how on fire he felt at her touch.
Before he could get completely lost in her, she pulled back and smiled, and he was transported back to their night in her Sunnydale basement before he put on the shiny bauble and burned up in the hellmouth. The tenderness between them was the same, but this time, the depth of feeling was stronger, and he marvelled at how he never thought he’d be here, in this place, with her.
Buffy spoke first, “This time, we’re both getting out of this alive.”
He set his jaw. “Right, love. Neither of us is dying today.”
“Good.”
With that, he recaptured her free hand in his, and they headed up the path toward the fight ahead.
* * *
The world was on fire.
The flames rose up all around Spike and Buffy on the streets of Vampire Villa. Buildings were burning, vampires were on fire and exploding into billows of dust, and kranooks were screaming in agony amidst the tangle of bodies fighting and clawing and biting to survive.
The air was permeated by the smell of ash and blood, and the fire lit the city so brightly that it almost seemed like daylight was upon them, lending the atmosphere an aura of eeriness and fear. The heat was intense, and Spike’s lungs burned with the smoke rolling between buildings that were aflame.
“See anyone we know?” Buffy asked as a female vampire flew past them, hurled by a hissing kranook.
The vampire staggered to her feet, and Spike deftly buried his stake in the vampire’s chest.
Spike coughed as leftover dust swirled in his face. “No. You, love?”
Another vampire dressed in dark green hurled himself at the pair, hissing, “Slayer!”
Without batting an eye, Buffy swung her ax, decapitating the vampire. “Nope, and I can’t tell who is on whose side.” She gestured at the dust flying around her, “Like that guy.”
“Don’t think the vamps matter so much. Remember what Stephan said? Half the vampires here don’t even know about him and Stephanie.” He ducked as a long blade of some form or fashion flew at his head.
Buffy caught the weapon that almost hit Spike. He watched her look over the weapon and then reject it, tossing the long bit at a vampire across the way who was shoving a kranook against a light pole. The vampire staggered as the metal sank into his calf, and the kranook gained the upper hand. “Right. Kill the vampires.”
“And find Angel,” Spike added, sidestepping a flaming vampire that subsequently exploded in a poof of dirt. “Sorta glad I can’t burst into flames with a stray spark.”
“Didn’t think you’d worry about that kind of thing.”
He shrugged. “I may act like I don’t care and enjoy taking risks with the best of them, but I’m not a complete idiot.”
“Which way should we go? I have no idea where we are except that we’re supposed to be close to Stephanie’s headquarters.”
They glanced up and down the street, trying to see past the writhing mass of fighting creatures. Serendipitously, a flash of bright light and a loud crack of what sounded like lightning burst forth from their left.
“Looks like that way.” Spike nodded his head toward the obvious display of magic.
“Looks like.”
With a destination in mind, the pair battled their way down the street, fighting back to back. Buffy picked up the slack when Spike struggled against his stronger foes. Kranooks took aim at them as well, not really recognizing them in the heightened energy of flow of combat. Not taking the time to make small talk to remind the creatures that they were allies, Buffy and Spike simply struck back and moved on, trying not to kill them if they could. Spike was extra careful not to get hit in the head, mindful of his concussion, and he could tell Buffy was favoring her injured arm. He found that they were automatically making up for each other’s blind spots as if they’d never stopped fighting together.
A small cluster of what look like humans unexpectedly staggered out from one of the side streets, their hair mussed, grey clothes torn, and feet bare. Their expressions conveyed how confused, lost, and afraid they must have felt. A few of them clung to one another, wincing at the fray, and some were whimpering.
Between blows, Buffy commented, “Reminds me of when I came back. Sunnydale was on fire and so bright. They look like how I felt. . . like they woke up in hell.”
Spike gave her a quick glance as he dodged an ill-fated attempt to punch his head. “I remember.”
He watched Buffy rush to a young woman’s side, gently tugging at her arm in hopes of leading the group away from danger. The woman blinked at Buffy and tried to pull away, keeping one arm wrapped around her ribcage as if to protect herself.
Spike shouted at Buffy as he finished off his current foe, “This way! Bring them this way!”
The woman backed away from the Spike’s loud tone of voice, as she was every loud sound, and Buffy reassured her, “It’s okay. Come this way.”
The woman studied Buffy for what seemed like an eternity to Spike, who was hanging back and watching so as not to frighten them further. Then, the lady willingly followed Buffy’s gentle urgent encouragement. The rest of the group trailed behind them.
Spike opened a squeaky metal door to a structure that was astonishingly not ablaze, stairs leading down to a small, cool room away from the fray and noise. Once the humans were safely ensconced in the shelter and were sinking to the ground to rest, Buffy tugged on Spike’s arm until they were standing on the edge of the fight.
“They’re from one of Stephan’s C.B.S.’s.”
Their meeting with Stephan felt like it happened years ago. Spike nodded, and his tone showed his concern. “I recognized the outfits.”
“We have to help them. There’s a lot more of them out there somewhere, and they could all die. We could split up. . . you find the humans and I’ll find Angel.”
Spike knew Buffy was probably thinking about Mary and the little boy from Kooch’s. “We could, love, but this is a huge place, and I’m worried if we spread ourselves too thin, we won’t fulfill our main objective, especially given that we’re both not operating at a hundred percent.”
“You’re right.” She frowned. “This sucks beyond sucking.”
“And remember, once we get the city into our dimension, Willow and Fred and the others will be at the ready to rescue and rehabilitate.”
“Right. How will we know where to find these guys after everything?”
Spike glanced around and found nothing to identify the entrance, nothing that wouldn’t draw more attention to the hiding place.
Buffy’s eyes lit up, “I got it.” She tugged open the heavy metal door and straining, she bent the corner of the door down so that it was obvious sign. She surveyed her work with a small smile. “Like bending down the corner of a book.”
Spike almost didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to disillusion her, but he couldn’t lie to her, couldn’t hide things from her anymore. “Not sure how much that will help, love.”
Buffy’s eyes softened with tears. “I know, but on the off chance, well, at least there’s a chance.”
He briefly squeezed her unhurt arm, and they left the humans behind. As they got closer to their destination, the energy and charge of magic was undeniable, and they moved through the minor skirmishes with more efficiency and strength of purpose.
After one vampire landed a blow to his temple, Spike hunched forward, hands on his knees to catch his breath and stop the world spinning. Blood streaked down his cheek.
Buffy instinctively backed up to him, and her presence lent him a measure of strength. “You okay?” she called as she kicked a vampire’s legs out from under him.
Spike closed his eyes for a moment and barely managed, “Starting to feel a bit like Rupert with the head injuries.”
Buffy was knocked to the ground before she could reply, landing with a grunt on her right, previously injured shoulder. She pushed herself up and dusted her attacker, but they were swarmed by a wave of new assailants before she could get to her feet.
A teenaged girl’s voice bellowed, “Hey!” Spike opened his eyes and squinted up from where he was leaning to see the vampires pause mid-attack and swing to see the source of the cry. “Yeah, I’m looking at you! Leave my friends alone!”
Not able to see who was helping, Buffy took advantage of the distraction and dusted a couple of the vamps. Their rescuer jumped in to assist them. Spike was recovered enough to further scan the battlefield. A leather-clad form barreled at him from the right, and Spike scrambled to dodge the impending crush. The figure crashed into a vampire just behind Spike, and dust flew through the air.
Spike immediately recognized his vamp-faced rescuer. Spike and his demon counterpart grinned at one another before spinning to continue fighting other aggressors.
“Thanks, mate,” Spike shouted as they fought. He felt renewed despite the persistent pounding in his skull.
“Thank Jenn. She’s the one who saw you lot before I did.”
Jenn heard her name. “Hello, Buffy and other Spike.”
Within minutes all the vampires are dusted, and the four grinned at one another in the short respite.
“Thank you both,” Buffy acknowledged, wiping a bit of blood off her chin with her fingers.
“You’re going the right direction.” Jenn inclined her head toward the large arena-looking building behind her. “It’s all going down in there.”
“What do you know?” Spike asked.
“They’re all in there. . . Roxy, Jon, Stephanie. . . a whole bunch of kranooks and vampires.”
“Angel?” Buffy edged close to her Spike and touched her shoulder to his arm. Spike leaned into the gesture to let her know that he was okay.
Vampire Spike licked his lips, fangs glinting in the firelight. “He’s there.”
“Did Willow get the soul spell off?” Jenn bent to pick up a stray stake.
“Yep, but we don’t know if it worked,” Spike said.
Buffy’s eagerness shone out in her words. “Could you guys tell?”
Shifting his fangs and ridges away, the other Spike found and lit a cigarette, letting sarcasm creep into his words. “Well, he’s fighting kranooks and defending Stephanie, so my guess is the answer is no. Don’t think Red’s spell worked between dimensions.”
Buffy looked deflated. “Damn.” She clenched her jaw, and Spike thought she was probably thinking about sending Angelus to hell. He wanted to comfort her but hesitated in front of Jenn and vampire Spike.
“Where are you two headed?” Buffy asked.
“We were going to look for you two,” Jenn explained, adjusting the bun of raven curls on the top of her head. “We were getting concerned with so much time passing.”
“Do us a favor?”
“Yeah, pet?” Vampire Spike blew smoke into the air, adding to the pollution around them. Spike heard the affection in his tone, but instead of reacting, he put himself in his counterpart’s shoes. To see Buffy, see her in all her glory on the battlefield, that changed a man. It probably reminded vampire Spike about what he was fighting for. He knew it did him.
Buffy quickly filled Jenn and demon Spike in on the humans throughout the city, including the ones she and her Spike had helped hide away.
Vampire Spike sounded doubtful. “How are we going to find them all?”
Jenn punched him in the arm. “Don’t worry about that.” She lifted up her hand and electricity crackled between her fingers. “I got magic.”
He rolled his eyes at her. “How’s a little static electricity gonna help us?” He tossed the cigarette butt into a nearby fire, and Spike was amused by his earlier comments with Buffy about flammability.
She put both her hands on her hips. “I’m Willow-trained, remember? And I got mad skills.”
He slung a brotherly arm around her shoulders, and Spike thought back to how she handled L’Gant. “That you do, pet.” He grinned at Buffy and Spike. “We got it covered. Get in there.” He inclined his head behind him.
“Speaking of skills.” Jenn reached for Buffy’s injured arm, whispering a few words of Latin under her breath.
Spike watched as Jenn’s hand hovered over Buffy’s skin and a gentle glow lit the space between the two. The awe on Buffy’s face spoke volumes. When Jenn’s magic ceased, Buffy rubbed her arm, bending the limb and flexing her fingers. “Wow. Thanks. That was way better than Slayer healing, and Willow – not dark magicky Willow – she never did this.”
“You don’t know my Willow,” Jenn said.
“Very true.” Buffy inclined her head toward Spike. “Him, too?”
Spike was skeptical as he always was of magic, especially magic used on him and the people he cared about, but he saw the urgency in Buffy’s face and the certainty in vampire Spike’s. He inclined his head, a measure of trust earned.
“Of course!” Jenn tucked the stake she was holding up the sleeve of her dark blouse and placed both hands on Spike’s skull. She whispered a string of Latin again, and within moments, Spike’s head felt clearer than it had in days.
“Thanks, pet.” He thought a moment and noticed something different in his whole body. His heart was still beating, but something akin to power was humming through his arms, legs, and torso. His eyes widened. “What did you. . . ?”
She slid the stake back into her palm and shrugged. “Wish I’d have thought of it sooner.” She gestured to her Spike. “C’mon! We have humans waiting!” She started a light jog and continued to move as she pivoted back, obviously waiting for him.
Vampire Spike studied Buffy and Spike for a moment, and then he smirked at Spike. “Finally.” With that, he followed his companion, his leather coat fanning out behind him. “See you lot soon.”
Buffy stared at Spike. “What did she do to you?”
“I-I think she fixed the chip because I feel. . . strong again.” He couldn’t keep the wonder out of his voice.
Buffy placed her fingertips on left side of his chest, and the wonder infiltrated her tone despite the levity of her words, “Hmm. Heart still beat-y and still with the warmth.”
“Yeah, but. . . ” Not so coltish and confused as in the past, he glanced around to try to find a vagrant vampire, but not finding one, he grabbed Buffy by the arm and swung her around to prove to himself, to demonstrate to her that he was physically stronger than before. She gave a little shriek and then giggled when he nuzzled her neck. “I can fight again.”
Buffy twisted around in his arms, landed both palms on his chest, and pressed her lips to his. At her touch, he suddenly found himself taken back to that moment when she found him in the Sunnydale cavern, and he realized that he’d do everything all over again if she would end up here with him, both of them brave enough to admit and accept their feelings.
Her green eyes sparkled at him. “Good. I think we’re gonna need to both be in tip top shape.”
“No thinking needed there. Ready, love?” The expression in her eyes was certain. “As I’ll ever be.”