An Unaccomplished Fate

Author: enigmaticblue

Rating: PG-15

Disclaimer: I don’t own most of these characters, and I’m not making any money off of the ones that are mine.

Summary: The sequel to Avocation and Under the Sun. Spike and Buffy’s relationship is on solid ground at last, but a new prophecy threatens everything they hold dear. The bonds of family and friendship will be tested, lives will be threatened, and the entire world will hang on the choice of one vampire.

A/N: Any resemblance to canon is pretty much accidental.

Chapter 24

“Escape is such a thankful Word/I often in the Night/Consider it unto myself/No spectacle in sight/Escape—it is the Basket/In which the Heart is caught/When down some awful Battlement/The rest of Life is dropt—/’Tis not to sight the savior—/It is to be the saved—/And that is why I lay my Head/Upon this trusty word—” ~Emily Dickinson

Dante had searched for any sign of his brothers and had come up empty handed. Orlando had failed to report back, and after a week of silence, the General had sent Dante to locate the missing Knights.

The Slayer and Guardian had been celebrating the holiday, and giving no indication that they were in danger. They had not appeared particularly concerned, or wary, and he wondered if the Watchers’ Council had been mistaken about the Key being present in Sunnydale.

He would never question the General to his face, but Dante didn’t trust these men who watched but did not act. And yet he had seen the prophecy with his own eyes, and he knew that the General would not have agreed to work with the Watchers without reason.

With no sign of Orlando or the other Knights, he had been ordered to continue surveillance, and he was less than a block away from the Guardian’s home, heading towards the Slayer’s residence. So far, he’d determined that there were two possibilities as to who the Key might be: the infant and the young sister of the Slayer. Neither possibility had pleased him; he knew his duty, however, and he would perform it, even if it meant killing a child.

“What have we here?”

Dante had not expected to be confronted. He’d dressed to blend in, and had pulled a hat down low on his head to hide his tattoo. The woman advancing on him was not someone he recognized.

“What do you want?” he asked coldly, not sensing danger.

“Mostly, I want a snack.” She smiled. “It was nice of you to show up just when I was looking for the Slayer. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to talk to her tonight.”

Dante didn’t have a chance to respond. She moved much faster than he’d thought possible, her hands seizing his head, and then delving into his skull.

He was a soldier and prided himself on his strength, but the pain caused him to scream. And he wasn’t sure he’d ever stop.

~~~~~

The first thing Buffy thought of when she heard the sound was that it sounded like a wounded animal. “Spike!”

“I heard it.” He paused just long enough to shove his feet into his boots and grab his ax while Buffy did the same, although she retrieved her new sword—a Christmas gift from Spike—instead. “You’d think we’d get one evening to relax.”

“It’s Sunnydale,” Buffy replied, as though that explained everything, and maybe it did.

They rushed out the front door, running towards the screams, which continued relentlessly. As Buffy neared the location, she saw Glory, her hands on either side of a man’s head. He didn’t look familiar, but as she got closer, it became clear that Glory’s hands were buried in his skull.

“Bloody hell.” Buffy knew that Spike had just realized the same thing she had, and he shouted to get Glory’s attention before she could. “Hey, Hellbitch!”

Glory released the man, who slumped on the sidewalk, his screams tapering off to whimpers. “It’s you. Just the people I wanted to see.”

Buffy swallowed, not liking the sound of that. “Oh, yeah? What did you have to say?”

“I want my Key,” Glory replied, stepping over the man’s body. He was curled into a fetal position on the ground, and Buffy heard him mumbling.

Buffy shrugged, feigning nonchalance, trying to keep one eye on the Hellgod and one on Spike, who was moving to flank her. “I can’t help you. Sorry.”

“I know you have it,” Glory replied. “I just want to go home.”

“And destroy the world in the process,” Buffy shot back. “Sorry, no can do. I like the world the way it is.”

“This world?” Glory scoffed. “It smells, no one recognizes my greatness, and I want to go HOME!”

Her voice rose in a crescendo, and Spike swung just as she said the final word. For a moment, Buffy thought he was going to be successful, but she raised a hand and stopped the blade inches from her head.

Glory caught the blade with her hand, however, and she howled with pain as she snatched it away from Spike. “Son of a bitch!”

The Hellgod swung the ax at him, and Spike raised his arm to protect his neck—Buffy didn’t think that even the Gem of Amara would save him from dusting if she managed to behead him. His arm caught the shaft, and Buffy heard the crack of bone. She swung the sword, and it bit deeply into Glory’s side.

Buffy was gratified to hear Glory’s shriek of rage and pain, but as soon as she pulled the sword free, she could see the wound close through the tear in Glory’s dress. Spike had used her distraction to escape the swinging ax, however, and he went low, head-butting her in the stomach, and taking both of them to the ground.

She stood, watching the action, wishing she could get involved, but Spike was too close to the Hellgod, and Buffy had no opportunity to intervene, not without risking his life, too.

Finally, Spike kicked Glory off of him, and Buffy thrust the sword through the Hellgod’s body, pinning her to the ground. “Spike!”

He’d grabbed the ax, and he swung it at her neck and would have at least come close to decapitating her when Glory managed to pull the sword free, rolling out of the way. This time, she went after Buffy, and with a cry of triumph, managed to pierce her shoulder with the blade.

Buffy gasped in pain, stumbling backwards. She would have landed on her ass if Spike hadn’t caught her.

Glory sneered as she broke the sword across her knee. “You’ll need more than that to kill me. I want my Key, Slayer. Next time I won’t come after you.”

The Hellgod walked away, probably knowing that neither of them could best her, not with Buffy injured.

And maybe not even under the best of circumstances.

“Are you alright?”

“It looks worse than it is,” Buffy assured him. “Although it hurts like a bitch.”

“We need to get you to the hospital.”

“No hospitals,” Buffy said forcefully. “I’ll be fine, Spike.”

“And him?”

Buffy looked at the man whose brains Glory had apparently scrambled. He was mumbling incoherently about searching, and lost men. “Spike? Look at his forehead.”

Spike swore when he rolled the man over to reveal the tattoo Buffy had just caught a glimpse of. “He’s one of the knights. They’re like bloody roaches.”

She couldn’t agree more. “Spike, I don’t know if we’re going to be able to kill her. There’s too much to contend with—the Council, the knights, Glory. If she goes after my mom, or Tommy…”

“We won’t let that happen.” But he didn’t sound convinced. “I’m calling an ambulance,” he insisted. “For both of you.”

“What are we going to tell the paramedics?”

Spike’s smile was grim. “Let’s see if they ask any questions.”

Buffy looked at her broken sword. “She broke my Christmas present.”

“I’ll get you a new one,” Spike replied. “And next time, I’ll make sure she can’t break it so easily.”

~~~~~

Giles wasn’t sure whether he should be annoyed that Spike and Buffy hadn’t called immediately, or if he should be relieved that he’d been able to sleep through the night. Since it was the first night he’d been able to get at least six hours of uninterrupted sleep, he decided that the latter was the better option.

Besides, what was done, was done, and there was no sense in being upset about it.

Giving thanks that it was Sunday, and that neither he nor Joyce had to go to work, Giles sipped his tea. Buffy was leaning into Spike on the couch, the blue sling on her arm a testament to how badly she’d been injured, no matter what she said to the contrary.

“And what happened to the knight?”

“He’s in the hospital, in the psych ward,” Buffy replied. “The doctor said that there wasn’t a mark on him, and that there was no outer indication as to why he’d have gone crazy.”

Giles cleared his throat. “Is it possible that being out in the sun did it?”

Spike shook his head. “He wasn’t one of the ones I dropped in the desert.”

“You’re certain?”

The vampire gave him a dirty look. “I bloody well left them for dead, didn’t I? So yeah, I think I remember.”

“Of course.”

“Giles, the doctor mentioned that there had been a huge upswing in the number of crazy people lately.” Buffy’s right hand reached inside her sling to scratch. “Considering that we saw Glory’s hands go inside that knight’s skull, I think we know the cause.”

“I’m less concerned with the brains Glory is scrambling than I am with killing her,” Spike growled. “We didn’t even make a dent.”

“It might be time to talk about getting Mom, Dawn, and Thomas out of town,” Buffy said slowly.

Giles shook his head. “I don’t think it’s come to that quite yet, although I will agree there’s cause for concern. I would suggest we wait until after the others return from England. Sending anyone away right now may only draw unwanted attention.”

“Unwanted attention to what?”

Giles wondered how long Dawn had been standing there, listening to them. Buffy was clearly unhappy that the girl had overheard any part of their conversation. “I thought you were sleeping. It’s Sunday.”

Dawn glared at her. “When were you going to tell me that you wanted to send me away?”

“We don’t want to send you away.” Spike rose, putting his hands on her shoulders. “We would like to keep you alive, however, and we’re going to do whatever has to be done to that end. Got it?”

For a moment, Giles thought that Dawn was going to argue, but she nodded. “Okay. What happened to your arm?” she asked Buffy.

“A run-in with a demon.” Buffy’s answer was vague, but Giles supposed that was for the best. “Is Mom awake yet?”

“She’s feeding the baby, and don’t change the subject,” Dawn said, shrugging Spike’s hands off and plopping down in the spare chair.

Spike shrugged, as though to say “what can you do?” and returned to his seat on the couch next to Buffy. “Right. Rupert, I do think you’re right. Making any major changes could give the game away at this point, but I do think that we’re going to need a safe house.”

Giles raised an eyebrow. “Do you have one in mind?”

“Robert. He’s expressed his willingness to help in the past. I think it might be time to visit him again, see if he’s still agreeable.”

“When will you go?” Giles asked.

“As soon as Wes and the others get back.” Spike glanced at Dawn. “I know this isn’t easy, Dawn, but when this is all over, we’ll take a trip somewhere.”

“Are you going to leave me there?”

“Are you going to behave and listen to us when we try to keep you safe?”

“Yes.”

“Then I suppose we’ll have to keep you around.” Spike’s wink softened the statement, and when Dawn gave him a reluctant smile, Giles was forced to wonder if he shouldn’t be taking parenting lessons from him.

~~~~~

Quinn had been highly disappointed to arrive back in Sunnydale to find that Tara wasn’t in town—at least to all appearances. The dorms were closed for the holidays, something she hadn’t considered. Although she would have preferred to talk to Tara first, she knew that Spike and Buffy had a right to her information.

She had planned on patrolling anyway, and she swung by Spike and Buffy’s place first.

“Welcome back,” Spike greeted her after she’d rung the doorbell. “Come on in.”

“Is Tara around?” Quinn asked, trying to sound like she didn’t much care about the answer one way or another.

“She’s in London,” came the rather surprising reply. “Coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Quinn was grateful for the option. She was still feeling a bit jetlagged, and these days, she preferred coffee to tea. “London?”

“Fact-finding mission.” He waved her to the kitchen table. “Cream and sugar?”

“Black, please.” Quinn took a seat. She didn’t think she’d been in the kitchen before. Oddly enough, she felt more comfortable with Spike than with Buffy. She sensed the Slayer’s distrust, whereas the vampire seemed more willing to give her a chance. “Do I want to know what sort of facts she went to find?”

“Likely not.” He sat down across from her, sliding her mug across the table.

She hesitated. “And Buffy?”

“With her mum and sister,” Spike replied. “There were some threats made.”

“More knights?”

“We found one. Glory scrambled his brain, so I doubt he’ll give us any trouble.” He raised a scarred eyebrow. “What are you doing here, ducks?”

“I did some fact-finding of my own,” Quinn admitted. “I called a friend of mine from the Academy.”

His eyes narrowed. “Was that wise?”

“He’s not with the Council anymore,” Quinn assured him. “But his partner still is.” She smiled. “It was a bit of a scandal when he ran off with one of our professors immediately after graduation and announced that he’d much rather go to culinary school, thank you very much.”

Spike smirked. “I could see that.”

“Reggie’s the sort who can get anyone to talk to him, and he collects bits of information like others collect stamps or coins.”

“And what had this Reggie collected?”

“His partner, our old professor, was asked to look at Wesley’s interpretation of the prophecy, and he realized there were pieces missing.” Quinn smiled. “He raised his concerns discreetly, and when he didn’t get a satisfactory answer, he began to make more noise.”

“I’m not sure how this affects us.” Spike took a slow sip of his coffee. “So what?”

“So, Travers may soon have his hands full dealing with internal strife, too full to focus on what’s going on in Sunnydale. My parents are reaching out to potential allies as well.” Quinn warmed her hands on her coffee mug, remembering the late night planning session they’d had, and wishing that they hadn’t needed to include Brynn.

No matter how much she wanted to protect her sister, Quinn knew that the other girl was going to have to grow up, and quickly.

“That would be good news.”

“There’s more,” Quinn said. “Reggie said that the word on the street is that Travers is collecting members of the wet works team. They’ve been scattered until now.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.” Now Spike’s eyes sharpened. “Do we know what’s being planned?”

Quinn shook her head. “That’s all Reggie had heard, but he said that he’d call with more information if he found anything else out.”

“With any luck, we’ll have more information after the others return.”

Quinn opened her mouth to ask questions about the trip, but realized that Spike was unlike to share that sort of information with her. And maybe it was better that she didn’t know.

“Anything else happened while I was gone?”

“We had another run-in with Glory,” Spike admitted, describing the fight.

She was at a loss as to how a person killed a Hellgod, but she suspected that it was going to take more than mundane weapons and said as much. “Where you find a sword to kill a god, I don’t know, though.”

Spike rose from the table. “How are you at research?”

Quinn sighed. “Passable, but I’d really rather beat something up.”

He smiled. “Join the club. Unfortunately, with our best researchers gone, it looks like the burden is going to fall on us.” Spike saw her expression and said, “Look on the bright side, Watcher. Research generally means pizza.”

Quinn brightened at that; she was starving, and she had no problem with a free meal. Besides, the sooner they figured out what would kill a Hellgod, the sooner she could beat something up.