It was so happy It felt like skipping.

But It, in the guise of the dead witch Tara, didn’t. That would just ruin the image It had worked so long and hard to project. Still, the unfettered glee It felt was simply unmatched and a slightly deranged smiled lighted Its (Tara’s) face. In Its opinion, the dead witch never looked so good as she did when maniacal.

Its minions, hardened demons devoted to It and Its cause, quaked in fear.

The Blood Harvest was about to be completed, the annoying band of Warriors was diminishing in numbers and preoccupied with the meager forces It had sent out. Hours only remained and while It was almost impatient with the remaining wait, It took this time to reflect.

Drusilla and Spike were, even now, observing any and all weaknesses the Warriors had, assessing them in Its final step to obliterate them. Dru was truly a fine addition, It thought, she was cruel and determined and wanted ‘her Spike’ back. That and when It told her of Angelus, she went into peals of laughter sighing about daddy being back.

Wasn’t family life wonderful?

Sighing in happiness, It lounged on the stone chair set in the middle of the cavernous room. The chair was the only adornment to this planetary home, for It felt no need for the trappings of life. This close to Its Harvest, It was gaining corporality, something that It was sure the slayer and her lapdog vampire didn’t realize. Perfect.

Once true corporality hit, once It was strong enough to exist in this world all the time, the planet, and all its inhabitants, would tremble in fear and awe. Wasn’t eternal existence wonderful?

Looking out at the beautiful creatures that followed It, ‘Tara’ again smiled. It missed Its most cherished minion, the one they called the Beast, but in the grand scheme of what was to come, that was overlooked. Just enough, however, to plan out carefully the revenge It sought on that slayer for destroying Its servant.

They were massive, the Turok-Han’s, a surging mass of death and destruction. Oh, the first Turok, the one Buffy had killed, was indeed The First Vampire, hence the reason Angelus’ remaking had forged him into a vicious creature even more perfect than before.

Restless with energy and energized with semi-corporality, It stood once more, crossing the room to a smaller chamber. Here Its innocents had sacrificed their lives for Its greater good, er evil. The strength of their souls had shouted in confusion, in denial, in fight. Innocent they may be, but that didn’t mean that the fight, the sheer will to live wasn’t as deeply engrained in them as it was in every other being ever to walk the earth.

In a river of blood that washed the gray rock walls red, the thousand had died, their blood flowing from their worthless human bodies as understanding finally dawned in their pathetic human minds. Not the ‘they were going to die’ bit, no that was obvious from the start.

It was the WHY they were going to die. From the beginning of time they were the Innocents, the ones destined to alter the balance between good and evil. They were the ones who, no matter what life threw at them, still continued to see things as good and pure. People who were merely misunderstood or required help, not necessarily evil.

These Innocents were reborn every generation, always the same thousand, until now. The ritual used to kill the thousand ensured that they’d never be reborn again, thus closing one circle forever. No other circle could possibly open.

As Its bringers carved the ritualistic symbols into every one of the thousand, they understood their purpose. And that purpose was to die at Its hand, for Its cause, for Its ultimate goal.

It so loved it when a plan came together.
~~~~~~~~~~
THEY looked down at the world below.

The First Evil, pretentious in its name and exaggerated in Its deeds cowed in the bloody room It had used to kill the Innocents. The Powers That Be tried in vain to understand where they had gone wrong, what they had allowed to happen that altered the balance so drastically the world was reduced to this.

THEY could have told everyone what went wrong, but that wasn’t what THEY were about. No, it wasn’t up to THEM to correct the mistakes The so-called Powers allowed to happen with both interference and nonintervention. It really was all about making a difference; more specifically how one or two people can make that difference.

SHE smiled at her life-long mate, a being SHE’d spent eons with, watching and waiting, grooming and tutoring beings to fight on both sides. HE smiled back; a tendril of energy caressing HER cheek in a loving gesture time had not diminished.

“He is ready,” SHE said in a whisper that echoed throughout everything if anyone cared to listen.

“It is time,” HE agreed and merged their energies in a flash of light that no one could see for it was private and intimate and only for THEM.
~~~~~~~~~~
Turning back to their group, Buffy and Angel ran the short distance to the others, suddenly knowing what they had to do.

A blue-skinned demon jumped out of the bushes and Buffy, fueled by Slayers and Angelus and her own power, knocked him (her? It?) backwards with a flick of her wrist, from a good five paces. Smiling in satisfaction and pride at his mate, Angel couldn’t help but wonder what Buffy’d be like when she learned the full use of her powers.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured and earned a smile from Buffy as they skidded to a halt before everyone.

“Decide to take a little jaunt into the woods children?” Faith asked torn between annoyance that they would and jealously that they did as the couple came to a stop in front of her.

“What?” Buffy asked, already focused on what they had to do and not on what already happened.

Angel shook his head, a smile still playing around the corners of his mouth. “Faith, really, would we do something like that?” When the second slayer thought about that and was about to answer ‘no,’ Angel asked, “Jealous?”

She scowled at him and was about to ask about this new bantering-Angel but Buffy was already filling them in on the new plan. “We know where the First is, but we need to move quickly.”

Sobering, wondering how it was that he was the one to make tangent like comments, Angel added, “Connor, you mentioned something about knowing the Blood Harvest was soon, do you know how you knew that?”

“No, dad, I just do. I know that you and Buffy need to stop it but that’s all.” The boy looked frustrated at his limited knowledge.

“It’s okay, son,” Angel said as he laid a gentle hand on Connor’s too-thin shoulders. Angel wished he had more time with his child; too much had been stolen from them and it didn’t look like the future was going to be any different. “Doyle,” Angel switched tactics. “Is there anything you can do to help?”

Shaking his head, Doyle looked to his two companions who also shook their heads no as well. “We can protect the potentials, that’s it. The First was never meant to gain this much power, not for centuries at least. And by then everything was supposed to be in balance and the potential’s lives no longer in danger.”

“Okay,” Buffy said, looking to Angel who nodded in return. “Then you three stay with them. Do not let anything happen to them, if they really are the last, then should something happen to Faith; they’re going to need protection.”

“Agreed, lass,” the former - now dead seer - nodded, “But we can’t stay after this battle. We’re here only because the balance is thrown out of whack and the First has gained power it shouldn’t have.”

“Then guard Giles, Anya, Wesley, Cordelia and Dawn, too.” Buffy looked over at the group and added, “And Andrew I guess, though I have no idea why. Wes and Giles can train the next slayer, no matter what she says, Anya is the best source of a magickally inclined being we have,” Buffy looked at her dead friends and wondered how she didn’t find this whole thing beyond bizarre.

“Alive, at least. Cordelia can barely stand and will be no good to anyone, and I want Dawn no where near this.”

Turning back to his son, Angel asked, “Connor, what did you mean before, when you said we had to wait for Wesley and Cordelia?” He had heard his son’s words, but hadn’t thought past it, Buffy’s jealous reaction taking his attention. When the seer arrived, he had been overcome with guilt and hadn’t thought more on Connor’s words.

Again, the boy shrugged. “I don’t know, Dad, sorry, all I know is that you need to take her with you.” Connor said again, using the title Angel long wanted him to use. It was almost as if he wanted to say ‘dad’ now in case there wasn’t time later.

“Willow, Tara?’ Buffy asked, again wanting to spend non-crisis time with her friends. No fairness here, that was for sure.

“I’m sorry, Buffy,” Tara said, “We can’t.”

Willow nodded but then a thought occurred to the dead witch. “Baby?”

Tara looked at her lover in question and then nodded. “We can’t help you,” the blonde said, “But we can offer this.” She paused a moment as if to gather her thoughts, then, “Where one goes the other follows, where one lies the other rests, and where one flies the other catches. Eternity is forever and always is there, but the path requires one last payment; be careful what you make of it, life is often unforgiving but your hearts are; they and you need it.”

Angel looked at the duo askance. “Prophecies at a time like this?”

“Couldn’t you just tell us straight out?” Buffy grumbled.

“No,” Willow said, an apologetic look on her face though there was laughter in her eyes. “Sorry, this was the only way they’d allow us to tell you; if we did it straight out then that would be cheating. Cryptic and all, it’s fair; and not just for the souled vamps among us.”

Angel grimaced at that but Buffy and Doyle laughed. “Okay,” Buffy said as she looked over to where the potentials clumped together waiting on their elders. The demons had all but stopped coming but Buffy didn’t know why. Had the First realized that they knew of Its plans and was gathering all Its troops? Or was it something else, something Doyle, Willow, and Tara had done?

Buffy didn’t know and didn’t care, this was it, they were out of time. The first rays of dawn were only hours away.

“Angel?”

“I’m on it, love,” the tall vampire said, slipping the endearment in almost unconsciously. “Giles!”

As Angel walked into the house, Buffy said to Connor, “If we need Cordelia, get her. Robin, Gunn, you’re responsible for the lying, deceiving bitch and for our backs; the only ones leaving that cave are us. Faith, you’re with me, sister. Ready?”

Something sparked in Faith’s eyes and the other slayer knew this was it, now was the time. Either step up and take over, or forever remain in the background, second best. So much for choices. “Yeah, B, I’m ready. Just like old times, eh?”

“Life on the line, world in peril, down to the wire?” Buffy smiled, “Yeah, it really is.”

“I’m going with Buffy!” They heard Dawn say as the younger Summers’ stormed through the courtyard doors, arms folded, mutinous look on her face. “There is no way I’m letting you go face the First without me, Buffy.”

“Oh, yes there is, Dawn. I need for you to be safe,” Buffy continued ignoring the audience around them. She stole a glance at Angel and saw that he was rounding up Giles, Wesley, and Anya, telling them the plan. One thing down. “If you’re safe then I can fight knowing that I don’t have to worry about you. And if something should happen to me then I want to know that you’ll be taken care of.”

Dawn opened her mouth to protest but Buffy cut her off, her own stubbornness coming through. Angelus was mercifully silent though she could feel him right there, itching to fight but strangely wanting Dawn safe, too. Was it because she, Buffy, needed her sister out of danger?

“I died for you once, Dawn, because I couldn’t let anything happen to you. If you’re there, I’ll worry about you too much and the First will have an edge that I can’t afford it to have.” It was a cheap shot but Buffy needed all the ammunition she could muster. “If you’re safe out of town, with Giles, Wes, and Anya, then I know you’ll be taken care of.”

Swiftly gathering her sister into her arms, Buffy held on tightly and whispered, “I’ll find you, Dawnie, I swear it. I just need you safe, please.”

Dawn thought about protesting, about simply ditching her appointed guards and following Buffy anyway, but the look in her sister’s eyes stopped her. Nothing could happen to Buffy, either. She was all Dawn had left and if the slayer said worrying about her sister was a distraction when fighting the First, then Dawn wanted to be safe. If only so her sister would be.

Proud of the maturity she showed, Dawn nodded. “If anything happens to you, I’m going to bring you back again just to yell at you. Angel will be there and I know he’ll protect you, but I’m warning you, Buffy, you better come back to me.”

Angel steeped up then, hugging Dawn as well. “I swear, Dawnie, I won’t allow anything to happen to your sister if I can help it.”

Returning the hug, Dawn nodded. “I know you won’t.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“So what’s the plan?” Robin asked quietly as they trudged through the underbrush, Cordelia supported between he and Gunn.

“Plan?” Gunn repeated amusement and genuine curiosity in his soft voice. “We have a plan?”

Shock and something close to horrified panic crossed the principle’s face. “We don’t have a plan?” Robin forcibly lowered his voice when he realized it was no longer a whisper. “Do you people always go into battles with major demonic forces - or is that THE major demonic force - without a plan?”

Faith shrugged and turned to Gunn. “Yeah, pretty much.” And then laughed quietly at Robin’s look. “Relax, man,” the slayer said. “Our plans never work, anyway. The best laid plans and all that.”

“The best laid plans of Mice and men gang aft agley, and leave you nowt but pain and sorrow, for promised joy.” Robin’s two companions stared at him and he added, “It’s by Robert Burns in his ‘To A Mouse.’”

“Right,” Gunn said in a whisper as they continued to walk as quietly as they could through the dry undergrowth. He and Robin still made noise though he didn’t think that Faith, Angel, Connor, or Buffy did. Oh to have the superpowers of the group; then again, considering what they usually went through, maybe it was just as well. “No matter how we plan, or what we plan, or what we plan for, something always goes wrong. It’s a fact of our lives.”

He paused, adjusted his grip on Cordy’s shoulders as he and Robin led the mute seer to what very well could be their final battle. “Welcome to our club.”

Robin grimaced, shifting his sword in his hand as his other helped Cordelia through the now thinning growth. Just what he needed. A bunch of heroes who were anything but. Wasn’t life fun?

Up ahead, Connor looked back, stopping as the group caught up with them. He could hear their whispering and their shuffling, but chose not to comment on it. The chances of them actually sneaking up on the First were ridiculously funny.

“This is the entrance. We’re going in; Faith you’re with Buffy, she’s waiting for you at the mouth to the cave. Cordy, it’s time.” His voice gentled when he spoke to his first lover, carefully taking her hand in his and leading her forward.

The seer wanted to tell him that she could do it herself, but, of course, she couldn’t. Tell him or walk unaided, she was still too weak. She wanted to say how sorry she was about so many things, about how she treated him after they’d made love, about making love to him and about using him. About the mean bitchiness she’d shown him that day afterwards and how she’d ignored his feelings on Angelus’ return.

But most of all Cordelia wanted to tell Connor that the last thing she wanted to do was walk in that cave. Sure, she had no idea what she was supposed to do once inside, but Cordy knew it couldn’t be good. It never was. Then again, maybe it was the last thing she was going to do in this lifetime.

Great, dieing to save the world; so not her gig. Nowhere in her contract, not what she signed up for or was destined for, she was sure.

Then again, she had much to atone for as Doyle pointed out and he was counting on her.

Gunn watched as Connor led his friend into the cave and whispered, “Good-bye.”

Robin looked at Gunn and together they took positions on either side of the cave opening. Gathered at their feet were several stakes, a flamethrower no one wanted to know how was acquired, and extra swords and battle-axes. Wondering how the two of them were possibly going to use all the extra weapons, Robin refrained from asking. He didn’t want to know.

Instead, he asked, “So, you guys never have any plans?”

Gunn chuckled and it felt good to do so. “You have no idea.”
~~~~~~~~~~
They had three cars and that were packed to overflowing.

The SUV Buffy drove to and from LA, Giles sports car, and Anya’s - formerly Xander’s - sedan were stacked high with weapons, magickal supplies, remaining books and manuscripts, and whatever food hadn’t been consumed. The remaining potentials - and Andrew - were piled in wherever cracks allowed but made it hard for Giles to count those that still lived.

Wesley was stretched out in the back seat of Giles’ car, the only place not stacked with stuff. It was going to be a long ride, especially with Anya driving Xander’s old car, and one of the potentials, Stacy, Sara, Sue? It was an ‘S’ name and she was designated driver for the SUV. Giles hoped that wasn’t a mistake, but they were out of drivers. The non-injured, fairly competent ones at least

Sighing and removing his glasses in the time-honored tradition of meaninglessly cleaning them for the hundredth time, Giles hoped there was time to properly mourn their loss later.

Dawn was with Tara and Willow, saying the goodbye she never had the chance to say t either, the Irishman, Doyle, looking on. Magick was still heavy in the air, letting the Watcher know that whatever the threesome was doing, it was still protecting everyone. Giles wondered how long that was going to last, how long whomever the three worked for would allow it to last.

Anya walked up to him, arms folded across her chest as they watched Dawn wipe the tears fro her cheeks. “Do we even know where we’re going?”

“Uh, no?” Giles said, turning to the woman beside him. “As far away from here as we can get on whatever petrol we have in the tanks. We’re not stopping until we’re out of California, at least.”

“We’re meeting up someplace with the rest?”

“Uh, should have planned that out, first, huh?” At Anya’s look of disapproval, Giles shrugged. “Vegas? I hear that’s nice this time of year.”

Dawn walked away from Willow and Tara, Doyle beckoning Giles over to them but the older man heard Anya say, “Works for me!” And couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.

“Giles, you have to leave. It’s not safe here anymore,” Willow told him urgently as she linked hands with Tara and Doyle. “Our magick will follow you, but you need to get out of Sunnydale.”

Nodding, he had figured as much, Giles told them, “We’ve left Angel’s car near the Magick Box as he wanted, filled with gas and food for...for everyone.” He refused to even contemplate the idea that some of them might not survive, that Buffy might not.

Doyle opened his mouth to say something but closed it again before he could. Trying again, he said, “Angel loves the lass, Giles, always has, always will. If there’s a way to protect her, he’ll do it with his last breath. Unneeded as it is.”

Giles nodded, as much as he hated to admit it, Angel loved Buffy, and she needed him. “I know.” Turning to Willow and Tara, he smiled that gentle smile that bespoke of the affection between the group. “You’re...safe at least?”

“Yes, Giles,” Willow said and Tara nodded her agreement.

“We’re doing the right thing, more so than before.” The blonde witch added.

Wanting to hug the incorporeal girls Giles instead asked one of the many questions that crowded his mind. “Willow, the spell, the slayer one, what you gave up...why? Why’d you do it? Was it worth it?

Tears gathered in her eyes, but the redhead nodded. “It was all worth it, Giles. Trust me. Everything worked out as it was meant to.”

“But your children...” his heart broke all over again as Giles thought of what Willow sacrificed.

“Safe from everything, Giles,” Willow told him in a soft voice. “As it turns out, they’re where they were always meant to be. Safe, with their father and mothers.”

Frowning, Giles stared at her for a moment longer before the implications sunk in. Tara was obviously Willow’s lover; Giles long ago accepted that. But then who was the father? Oh, wait, Doyle? That was something he certainly wasn’t expecting, not ever. Sputtering, he tried to think of something to say but was coming up blank.

“When Willow agreed to the terms,” Tara explained, “The destinies of her children were in the hands of Amaterasu; the goddess, knowing what was to come and who the children were, offered the unborn children to They Who Shall Not Be Named, the Ancients.”

“It’s not what was foretold, but those prophecies are tricky buggers,” Doyle finished, “And it all worked as it was supposed to in the end.”

Still in shock, Giles simply nodded. What was to come, who the children were, more Ancients?  “Congratulations, then,” he said, numbly to the trio as they began to fade. “Wait!” He called but it was too late.

“Hurry, Giles, don’t look back. And try not to worry too much,” Willow’s voice floated down to him from everywhere and nowhere, light and soft and comforting. “Everything will work out as it was foreseen. This is the one time it’s all true.”

True? What the bloody hell was she talking about? Hadn’t Doyle just said that prophecies were tricky buggers? “Willow! What the hell are you talking about?!”

He received no answer, not that he really expected one. Turning back to the waiting vehicles, Rupert Giles finally said goodbye to the town he’d called home for years, the place he’d found a real family and acceptance. Dawn smiled at him as he climbed into his car, starting the ignition with a roar.

“They’ll be okay, right Giles?” The girl asked as she fastened her seatbelt and Giles again remembered how young she really was.

“I have it on the highest authority, Dawn,” he answered as he led the way out of town and towards Los Vegas, “That everything will work out just fine.”

And he honestly believed that. This time.
~~~~~~~~~~
The cave was empty when they finally entered it. 

The sense that there were demons, and a lot of them, crawled through each of the beings waiting to fight, but there was no one present. Connor led Cordelia through the cave, slowly following Angel, Buffy, and Faith as they crept through the darkened tunnels. There was definitely something to be said for enhanced night vision. 

The further they went into the labyrinth the less he could feel the protection of Doyle and the two women. They were truly on their own. 

The ground was uneven, rocky, and pebbles slid from underfoot making it harder to be quiet as they went further underground. The air was dank, smelling of moldy stagnant water and the stench of too many beings in a confined space. Evil also permeated the air, the smell that one often associates with malevolence aimed at oneself. It was enough to choke those who needed to breathe. 

The walls of the caverns were slick with the same moisture that coated the air, making even that surface difficult to hold onto. Faith touched the wall, once, to steady herself when her footing gave way as she climbed over a pile of random stones and grimaced when her hand came away covered in slime and mold. 

It was difficult to tell how much time passed as the group made their way through the twists and turns of the dark tunnel, relying on advanced eyesight and hearing to guide their way. At one point Buffy was sure that they had made a complete circle and were nearing the entrance; in a way she was right, the tunnel circled so much that they were back where they started, only several dozen feet or so below the surface. 

It was eerily silent and continued getting darker the further they went. Cordelia was having the worst time of it, lacking the stealthy nature of the others and the balance required for walking in pitch-black circumstances. Add to that she was weak and Connor ended up carrying her more often than not. 

Suddenly there was a fork in their path; one the group wouldn’t have even noticed had a bright glow not come from both openings.  The two openings were on opposite sides of the cavern, and both looked the same; chances were that they both led to the same place. The strong feelings of wrongness, of evil weren’t easy to pinpoint but it didn’t seem to matter left or right. 

Silently the three in front looked to each other, each shrugging when it became clear that they had no idea which way to go. The walls were darker here, despite the light that shone from further in the tunnels, but still held a slick, wet look to them. It stunk as well, death and magick, evil and blood, but none of them could tell where the source came from. 

Looking up the smooth walls, to the dome shaped ceiling, Connor noticed strange paintings there, committing them to memory. He was about to ask what they meant when Buffy and Faith doubled over. 

Tears pooled in their eyes and streamed down their faces as they fell to their knees, shaking. Angel was immediately beside Buffy, pulling her into his arms as he looked helplessly from her to Faith. 

“Buffy, love,” Angel whispered, frantic, “Baby, what’s wrong?” 

“Hurts, Angel, it hurts so badly.” The words were strained and as Buffy raised her eyes to meet his worried brown ones, they were golden with her pain. 

Connor left Cordelia’s side and went to Faith, bringing the dark haired slayer to lie on the filthy ground near her blonde counterpart. Automatically the slayers reached for each other and Angel, not having a choice, gathered Faith in his arms, too. The two slayers wrapped their arms around each other, clinging tightly in their joint pain. 

“Buffy,” Angel said, helplessly, “Buffy, baby, tell me what’s wrong, tell me what to do!” His hands ran through her hair, smoothing the locks in the only comfort he could give. 

“Angel, Angel” Buffy moaned but said nothing else.

Angelus whispered to her, equally desperate to soothe the slayer. ‘Buffy, love, listen to me.’ 

But she couldn’t, could only whisper, “Angelus, Angel, help.” So the demon within her forced his own panic and anger down and tried to calm his frightened and pained lover. 

Desperate, Angel picked her up, cradling her gently in his arms and, careful not to harm Faith, he quickly and desperately moved his lover out of the cavern. The moment she was out of the cavern Buffy stilled, quieting as her system leveled itself. She clung to him still, unwilling to let him go. 

“Connor,” Angel said in a low strained voice, confident that his son could hear him. “Bring Faith in here!” 

Doing as he was told, Connor quickly carried the shaking slayer back the way they came. In the minute that Buffy was in the other room, she had considerably calmed, Connor noted, and watched as Faith did the same. Father and son shared a look and their eyes flicked back to the cavern they just stood in.

Connor swallowed the obvious statement that they couldn’t defeat the army of the First and the First Itself without their slayers. Instead he offered after a minute, “Maybe if we cross the cavern quickly? Get to the other side and hope that the effects of whatever happened to them are only in that cavern?” 

Angel didn’t want to hear that. He wanted to find out what had caused his mate so much harm, what had hurt her whether mystical or not, and destroy it until all that remained was a distant and unpleasant memory. He didn’t want Buffy anywhere near that cave and he certainly didn’t want her to fight anything. 

There was no choice. He knew that, but that didn’t mean he liked it. 

Nodding, he stroked Buffy’s face, the closed eyelids, the soft cheeks, across her lips. “Buffy? Buffy, you need to get up. Love, we have things to do, I’m sorry, mhúirnín, I’m so sorry, but we need you. If I could,” he dropped his voice even more so that only she could hear him, “I’d fight this for you, but I can’t.” 

Eyes fluttering Buffy looked into the worried ones of Angel and nodded. For a moment her eyes were naked, showing him all the feelings she had for him, all the love and desire. “T’a gr’a agam dhuit,” she whispered honestly, unaware of doing so as he helped her to stand. It didn’t make the meaning any less as she felt his strong hands hold her upright for a moment so she could get her bearings. 

Buffy’s legs wobbled out from her and Angel caught her, pulling her up tight against his chest, repeating, “T’a gr’a agam dhuit, my Buffy.” His hand fluttered across her cheek for a moment and he smiled at her. He did love this woman, this slayer, with everything in him. Nothing could change that. 

Faith stood with the help of Connor and the four of them slowly made their way back to the cave and Cordelia. Right before they entered the room, Angel swept Buffy into his arms and quickly crossed the space, not taking any chances. Connor shrugged and did the same with Faith, surprised the slayer didn’t protest. 

Faith was too weak to protest and she hated that, but she also didn’t want to stay in that cavern any more than she had to. There was something there that spooked her that terrified her but at the same time made her angry, as if she had something to do there that she didn’t want to do but that needed to be done. 

Connor looked at his father as he put Faith down, and sensed the vampire’s struggle to protect his mate and friend, to have no harm come to Buffy, but none to Faith, either, and for possibly the first time Connor’s life, he understood. Understood some of what Angel had done and now, he wanted to take some of that burden away from Angel. 

Doyle had taught Connor not only who he was, but about what and who Angel really was, too. About what Angel wanted and how he tried to do the right thing; only now did Connor fully and finally let go of that deep-seated resentment and anger, the hatred that sprung out of the love he felt for his father, his real dad. 

It was the vampire’s poor luck that ‘The Right Thing’ never really worked out for him. 

Refraining from saying anything aloud, Connor led Cordy to the trio and pointed to the left. The three of them shot him puzzled looks but Connor had no explanation; left just seemed the way to go. 

So they went, hoping it was, indeed, the way to go. 

Not far down the path, it began to steeply slope, winding deeper into the cave before coming to a ledge. Buffy stopped the group before they could move from the darkness of the cave to the rocky shelf. They crowded around her, trying to see what she did. Angel’s hand slipped into hers, giving and receiving some last minute comfort. Buffy didn’t protest. 

Turok-Han’s, thousands of them, gathered around hundreds of bonfires. Which was kind of strange considering that fire killed vampires, but maybe they hadn’t gotten that memo. Each Turok held a weapon of some kind, mace, lance, pike, sword, and they moved around the fires in a kind of weird dance. 

Buffy looked to Faith who shrugged equally confused. This was definitely not what they’d expected, that was for sure. 

Angel nudged the slayers’ shoulders and pointed off to the right. There, sitting in a large chair that seemed to have been carved out of the rock it sat on, sat Buffy. 

Buffy scowled and wondered why It always chose her; hundreds of thousands of dead people to pick, at least a dozen immediate ones that were connected to the group trying to kill It, and It chose her. She really wanted to kill It. 

‘Don’t do anything stupid or rash, lover,’ Angelus said, relieved to be able to say that to her. She gave him quite the scare in that cave, one he wasn’t likely to forget anytime soon. 

Buffy gave her demon a mental snort. ‘The voice of reason, now, are you? We’re here, all four of us and the mute seer, fighting an army the population size of a small country, and you want me start the fight rationally?’ 

‘Didn’t say that, Buffy,’ Angelus scowled at her, ‘I simply meant that I didn’t want you doing anything stupid or rash. I don’t care about the rest of the lot.’

But that wasn’t true, either. Angelus, Buffy knew, cared for Connor or the boy would have been in worse shape than Wes and Cordy combined. He wanted Angel to live because he was the only source of Sire blood Buffy, through Angelus’ own damn fault, needed to survive. 

Angel touched her arm, drawing her attention back to the matter at hand. He leaned down, placing his lips as close to her ear as he could. Chances were, with so much noise coming from below and the occupants not really patrolling their perimeter, they wouldn’t be heard, but who could really tell with anything? 

“Baby, do you think there’s some way you can use the power of the slayers to, I don’t know, vaporize them or something?” Buffy choked on a laugh and she felt Angel smile against her skin; she suppressed the shiver of need and focused on his next words. “I know, but what other options have we?” 

“I don’t know, but I don’t think I can do that. The slayer powers don’t really work like that, I’m not,” she continued to whisper into his ear, “Entirely sure how they do work, but I don’t think I can just call on them. Not for something this big at least.” 

Nodding, secretly relieved that Buffy wouldn’t have to put her life in any more danger than just being here placed her, Angel turned to Connor and Cordelia. His son had said that the seer needed to be present for this fight, had insisted on it actually. Why? What good could a mute clairvoyant be to them? 

Connor met his father’s eyes and was about to suggest that they head back and bring in some kind of bomb-like thing. He had no idea what type would be needed, having only seen one on TV over the summer when Fred and Gunn were ‘watching’ him, but he knew what they were, at least. 

And then they were spotted. 

The cry went up lightening quick and spread across the cavern. Growls echoed throughout the large dome structure, creating a clamoring of sound that hurt the ears. Buffy’s eyes locked with the First’s and It smiled. 

“I’m so gonna kill It,” she muttered, Angelus agreed, and Angel let his own feral smile grace his features. 

Before they knew it, Turok-Hans were climbing up the steep wall, trying to get to their position. Connor shoved Cordelia back into the tunnel they’d emerged from, taking his stance with his father and the two slayers. He may have been an Ancient, or a potential one, but he enjoyed a good fight as much as his companions. 

“Ready?” Buffy asked, looking at Faith as she did so. 

“You betcha, B. It’s been real,” the dark haired slayer said, holding her sword aloft. 

Buffy returned Faith’s smile, anticipatory and wild as it was, and wondered how to say everything that needed to be said. But then Faith smiled again and the moment passed. Switching her gaze to Angel, Buffy smiled at him, too, but said nothing. In the second before the first Turok vaulted over the side, she heard him say, “I love you Buffy, don’t ever forget that.” 

“I won’t,” was her only reply. 

Then they were there, and the small group of four was now, literally, fighting for their lives. Beheading was the only way to kill the Turok’s, well that and tossing them into the bonfires and those were too far away. Buffy tried to focus on the slayers vying for attention; they wanted in on this fight, wanted to be a part of destroying the power base the First had erected. 

Buffy was more than happy to let them in on the fun, but other than giving over her senses to them, allowing them to guide her every move, she didn’t know what else to do. So she arced her sword through the air, the blessed one she hadn’t known Giles had kept until recently. Gods, she hated this sword. And let every slayer sense guide her every move. 

Angel carefully positioned himself between as many of the attackers and Buffy as he could. He didn’t care that she was more than capable of taking care of herself, and that immortality was hers. Invincibility was a totally different issue Angel wasn’t ready to test just yet. His or hers. 

His superior strength, thanks to Angelus’ rebirth at the hands of the True First Vampire, allowed him to fight faster, move quicker. And he used it to his advantage, parrying every vamp that scaled the cave walls, keeping an eye on Buffy as he did so, worried for her, his son, and Faith. 

It also allowed his mind to go into a kind of autopilot as he moved with the flowing tide of vampires, beheading as many as he could before the beasts truly overran their precarious position. And his thoughts drifted to Buffy and how he was going to keep her safe when faced with several thousand adversaries. 

Faith was in her element, her passion for the hunt blossoming as she fought. This was what she was made for; this was what she was always meant to do. And she loved every second of it. Okay, so she’d really like to see Gunn again, and she wanted to hang with B some more, that slayer bond they shared the first few months she’d been in Sunnydale was beginning to reassert itself when Buffy headed to LA and Angelus/Angel.

 She wanted to thank Angel for helping her, believing in her, and she wanted to go to Vegas to relax in a spa for a week or so. But more, Faith discovered, she wanted to fight to win. And to do that, she had to focus all her energies on avoiding the bloodbath the Turok’s had in mind for them. 

The power of all the slayers before her might not flow through her veins, but power did; hers and theirs. 

“Connor, behind you!” 

The would-be Ancient ducked out of reflex, spinning to the side as a small group of brown fur covered demons attacked from behind. Wherever the other demons were hiding, they had heard the sounds of battle and wanted to join. Perfect, the more the merrier, right? Connor never really did understand that line. 

He couldn’t focus on his surroundings enough to do anything but what Holtz and Angel had trained him to do with his sword and battle-axe. He only needed a few seconds to concentrate on the other power flowing through him, but the advancing army wasn’t about to give him that time. 

Moving closer to where Angel fought back-to-back with Buffy, both moving in complete synchronization with the other, Connor joined them, calling for Faith as he did so. When the younger slayer looked over, distracted for a bare second, the talons of a nearby vamp sank into her arm and she screamed. 

The scent of blood, and slayer blood at that, sent the hoards into more of a frenzy than they already were. Cursing himself, Connor moved away from Buffy and Angel and went to help Faith. 

Standing back to back with her, he tried to concentrate again. A small avalanche was his reward, and the falling rocks knocked several vampires to the ground below, at least one falling into the bonfires and combusting on the spot. 

“Cordelia!” Faith shouted moments later in complete shock, stopping mid-swing in beheading a Turok then ducking when said Turok swung his own sword at her head. 

The four of them looked to where Faith pointed, still fighting for their lives, the Turok’s not caring that one of the group had managed to slip past them. Unconcerned, the seer stumbled down the stone hewed stairs, using the wall as a railing, slipping past the advancing army. 

She seemed okay, which was strange in and of itself. The four didn’t have time to think about what Cordelia was doing, they had their own lives to protect. 

Finally she stood in the middle of the room between two bonfires. Her borrowed clothes hung off her like rags, bones sticking out horribly so, face gaunt and as emaciated as the rest of her once lush body. Cordelia stood there, letting the years of her life swirl around in her brain for a precious moment. 

Standing in the entrance of the cave, watching the four preternatural warriors fight the advancing Turok’s Cordelia finally realized what she had to do. It was so clear, suddenly it all made sense. So she left the relative safety of the dark grotto and moved as quickly as she could to the center below. 

Doyle was right; she did have a higher purpose. She had to fix what she had partially done, she had to help as she was meant to, she had to show, had to prove, that she was worthy of not only herself, but of Doyle, too. 

The glow that enveloped her was a bright white one, her eyes turned milky and she floated slightly off the ground. She wasn’t scared this time; Cordelia had used this strange demon-magick before when she’d first received her demon half to help with the visions. Only this time she knew there was no coming back from that. 

The glow spread, quickly enveloping the Turok-Han’s nearest to her. She didn’t question why they never saw her, only that they didn’t and that afforded her a chance. This was the only one, the very last one she was getting and Cordelia intended for it to be worth it; she had a strong need to make amends for her past sins. 

A need she hadn’t felt before Doyle. What did that say about her? Cordelia didn’t want to think on that, nor did she care. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as the glow her demon half emitted consumed the vampires. She didn’t know who she was talking to or who could conceivably hear her, but she continued anyway. “I’m sorry Angel for lying and keeping things from you. I only wanted what was best for you. Connor, I’m sorry that I used you; I really do care for you. Buffy, Faith, it hasn’t been anything but a royal pain in the ass, has it?” 

Hungry white flames licked at the Turok-Hans, ignoring everything else, the cave, the bonfires, the First, the four still fighting for their lives. Cordelia saw Faith go down again, Connor rush to her side as he fought the still advancing mob. Saw Angel fight by Buffy’s side and wondered how she ever thought she loved him more than a dear friend and brother. Then she started to laugh. 

Who ever would have thought that Cordelia Chase would be the one to save the world? 

No one, not high school friends, not the Scooby gang she’d briefly been a part of, not her Angel Investigation team, definitely not her. But Doyle believed in her. She wondered why. 

“Love truly is blind, princess,” he said to her. Cordy looked around the cave, she was still glowing whitely, still doing whatever it was her demon half insisted she do for reasons she wasn’t entirely sure were her own. Only the Turok-Hans were affected, she noticed and wondered at that. There had to be a way to fine tune something within her, right? 

“Doyle?” 

“Yeah, it’s me, princess. I wanted to see you to the other side. Make sure you got there okay.” 

“What did you mean?” Cordy asked instead, referring to his first statement and they both knew it. 

“When you love a person,” Doyle said and took her hand in his. “It makes you blind to all their faults. They’re there and you know they are, but it doesn’t matter to you. You love them anyway.” 

Smiling, Cordy leaned into him, pressing her lips to his. “Stay with me?” 

“Until the end, princess, I promise.” 

Angel watched in horrified fascination that never detracted from his fanatical protection of Buffy as his friend…disappeared. The glow she had once done before to rid the hotel of those moisture sucking demon slug things now extended the length and breadth of the cave, taking every Turok with it. Just as suddenly as it began, it stopped and Cordy was no longer there. 

The remaining demons were easily cut down as they attempted to either escape through the tunnels Angel and gang were guarding, or as they foolishly continued their attack, fighting to the bitter end. When the hoards had dwindled to a spattering of foes that Connor easily cut down, Angel turned to Buffy, frantically checking her over for injuries of any kind. 

It again came back to the immortal vs. invincible; he wasn’t yet sure what the implications of it all were. 

“Buffy, are you hurt?” He asked, his hands running down her back in panic. He could see cuts closing before his eyes; a particularly nasty gash on right side was knitting more slowly, but still closing quickly, faster than even she healed. She seemed fine, but he still worried. 

“Angel,” Buffy said softly, “Angel, relax. Honey, I’m fine.” He stopped then, pulling her into his crushing embrace and kissing her briefly. 

“Good, then, let’s finish this.” 

Connor was next to Faith who had taken a pike to the gut. The couple rushed to the slayer’s side, just in time to hear Connor mutter, “Come on, I know I can do this!” 

“Son?” Angel asked, placing his hand gently on the Connor’s small, thin shoulder. 

“I know I can heal her, I know the powers are in me, but I can’t access it. It’s as if something’s blocking it. Or me.” 

“Just relax, Connor, let it come naturally,” Angel offered with the only advice he had to offer. He felt Buffy’s smaller hand sneak into his and gripped the comfort she offered gratefully. They still had the First to fight, everyone knew that, but It didn’t seem inclined to care about them at the moment.

Buffy glanced over her shoulder, looking to where the First, still in her form, lounged negligently in the stone throne. A small smug smile played around Its lips, making her features look hard and cold. Buffy frowned and turned back to Connor. Something wasn’t right there but she didn’t know what. 

‘Maybe Its waiting for something,’ Angelus suggested. ‘All this could have been a distraction for whatever the Harvest was.’ 

“Then we really are too late?” Buffy whispered. “I won’t accept that.” 

Angel looked from his son to her. He was silent for a long minute, torn between keeping his son safe and fighting by his mate’s side. But he knew as well as he knew Buffy that she wasn’t one to leave a fight; she was already pulling away, moving towards the rocky steps at the far end of the ledge. 

“Connor, will you be okay?” Angel asked his son as he followed Buffy. How was it that he was forced to choose between his son and his only love? 

“Yeah, dad, go.” Connor closed his eyes, focusing not on the evil energy that permeated the air, but on the bright shinning energy that still flowed through Faith.

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