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 32

“All but Death, can be Adjusted—/Dynasties repaired—/Systems—settled in their Sockets—/Citadels dissolved—/Wastes of Lives—resown with Colors/By Succeeding Springs—/Death—unto itself—Exception—/Is exempt from Change—” ~Emily Dickinson, “All but Death, can be Adjusted”

Joyce hated waiting. She supposed that Buffy came by her impatience honestly. Pacing back and forth across the living room, she soothed a fussy Thomas. Dawn slept on Wesley’s couch, having finally fallen asleep. It was late, and Joyce knew that she should probably try to get some sleep.

Oscar was cleaning his gun for the third time, and Joyce recognized the same worry in him that she felt. Xander and Anya were sitting quietly, Xander whispering in his girlfriend’s ear every so often. Joyce suspected that he was trying to comfort her.

She understood why Anya felt guilty, and while Joyce wanted to comfort her, she couldn’t choke out the words through her anxiety.

“How are you holding up?” Oscar asked quietly.

“I could ask the same,” she returned.

He smiled. “You could, but I have also raised a Slayer.”

Joyce sat down at the table gingerly, trying not to disturb Thomas now that she’d calmed him down. She was thankful that she always packed more than he needed in the diaper bag, because she wasn’t sure that it was going to be safe enough to go home anytime soon.

Joyce jumped when the phone rang. She couldn’t bring herself to pick up the receiver, for fear of bad news, but she watched Oscar pick it up, her heart in her throat. “Hello?” Oscar’s deep voice asked.

“Good, that’s very good. We’ll leave shortly.” There was a pause. “Of course. We’ll see you then.” He put down the phone. “Rupert is alive,” Oscar said before she could ask. “They’re taking him to the hospital. We’ll go just as soon as Quinn gets here. She’s going to watch Dawn.”

“How is he?” Joyce demanded.

“Hurt, but in one piece. He’s in no danger.”

Joyce heaved a sigh of relief, but she knew that she wouldn’t feel completely easy until she could see him with her own eyes. “What about Thomas?”

“I’ll take him,” Xander offered, holding out her arms.

Joyce handed Thomas over reluctantly, watching closely as Xander cradled the baby close to his chest. Thomas settled into Xander’s arms almost immediately, and she smiled. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Xander murmured, and Joyce couldn’t help but believe him.

~~~~~

Giles slowly regained consciousness, first hearing voices, then blinking against the harsh fluorescents. “Giles?”

He had a moment of panic, hearing Buffy’s voice and fearing that the Council had kidnapped her as well. Giles struggled to sit up, feeling strong hands holding him down. “Rupert, you need to hold still. You’re safe now, but you’ve been injured.”

Recognizing Spike’s voice, he settled back on the bed, taking a deep breath as he forced his eyes open. “Where are they?”

“Dead. All of them.” Spike kept his voice low. “Joyce should be here any minute. We’ll stay with you; the girls and Wesley are going to take care of Dawn and Thomas tonight. You’re going to be fine.”

“You’re okay, Giles.” Buffy smiled tremulously. “I’m sorry we didn’t get there sooner.”

He forced a smile. “I’m fine, Buffy. I wasn’t hurt too badly.”

“Liar,” she accused fondly. “We were here when the doctors were checking you out. Three cracked ribs, a broken finger, and too many bruises to count. You’re just lucky there wasn’t any internal bleeding.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That you got mugged,” Buffy responded with a shrug. “I don’t know if they believed me, but they didn’t argue, and that’s the important thing.”

He tried nodding but felt pain shoot through his head. His groan had Buffy sighing. “Stop moving, Giles. The doctor has you on some good pain medications, but you need to keep still.”

“Where’s Joyce?”

“She’s on her way. Quinn and the others were picking her up.” Buffy laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Just concentrate on getting better. We’ll take care of the rest.”

Giles had no choice but to follow her directions, considering that even the attempt to sit up set the room to spinning. “What about the Council members? Are they all dead?”

“We got them all, Rupert. You don’t need to worry about them.” Spike patted his shoulder. “I’m going to wait outside.”

Buffy kept her grip on his hand. “What happened, Giles?”

He shook his head slowly, trying to remember. “They came to the store, but you know that. Anya would have told you.”

“She did. She was pretty worried about you, Giles.”

He smiled reflectively. “She’s a good girl.”

Buffy returned his smile. “After that?”

“They knocked me out. When I came to, they told me that they wanted information on the Key.”

His Slayer grimaced apologetically. “I’m sorry to ask you this, Giles, but—”

“I didn’t break, Buffy.” Giles squeezed her hand to show that he bore her no ill will for her question. “I don’t blame you for asking.”

“You have a lot of broken bones, Giles.”

“I know how to withstand torture. I don’t know how much longer I would have been able to refrain from giving information.” Giles stopped, hearing Joyce’s voice in the hallway. He wanted to hide his injuries as much as possible, so as not to worry her anymore than she was already.

Joyce entered the room, her heels clicking on the floor. “Rupert.” She paused next to his bed, as though afraid to touch him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m banged up, but there’s nothing seriously wrong with me,” he assured her. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be outside,” Buffy announced, pressing a kiss to Joyce’s cheek. “Call if you need anything.”

“Where’s Thomas?” Giles asked, his eyelids feeling heavy again.

Joyce brushed a hand over his forehead. “Xander has him. I was surprised at how well he did.”

“Thomas?”

“No, Xander.” Her thumb stroked his cheekbone gently, avoiding the bruises on his face. “Go to sleep, Rupert. I’ll still be here when you wake.”

“I’m sorry, love. I can’t stay awake.”

“That’s fine.”

Giles drifted off to sleep, content in the knowledge that he was safe.

~~~~~

Buffy glanced over at Spike who was standing on the other side of the doorway. “I think it might be time for plan B.”

“I thought so myself,” Spike murmured. “As soon as Rupert is released, we’ll send him along with Joyce, Dawn, and Thomas. He’s vulnerable as long as he’s injured, and those broken ribs are going to take at least a month to heal.”

“Okay, so Xander takes them to Robert, but for how long?”

“Not long.” Spike crossed his arms over his chest, leaning up against the wall. “I have an idea.”

Buffy turned to face him. “What sort of idea?”

“Remember how Red was saying that she’d found a spell that would make people think an object had the energy of the Key?”

“Yeah.” The light dawned. “Oh. You mean April.”

“What kind of damage you think a robot like that could do if Red managed to rewire her?”

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t know, but I think it would be a lot.”

“Call her,” Spike said. “Tell her and Wes to take her from our house, and get her rewired. Tell Red she’s got 48 hours.”

Buffy didn’t bother telling Spike that he was likely asking for too much; he knew that already, but he knew that Willow was capable of rising to meet expectations. “I’m sure she’ll do her best.”

“Her best might not be good enough this time.” Spike met Buffy’s eyes, and she saw fear; it was not comforting. “We need every weapon, luv, starting with that robot.”

“I’ll tell her, Spike.” Buffy walked off down the hallway, reaching for her cell phone as soon as she was outside.

“Hello?” Willow’s sleepy voice caused Buffy to wince.

“Sorry, Will. I didn’t want to wake you up, but it’s important.”

“When isn’t it?” Willow asked with a sigh. “What’s up?”

“We didn’t get a chance to tell you, but we found the robot. She ran out of battery power and shut down.”

Willow yawned loudly. “I appreciate you telling me, Buffy, but couldn’t this have waited until morning?”

“I’m afraid not. Remember that spell you were telling us about?”

“Which one? I need coffee before I can think straight.”

“To make an object look—you know.”

There was a pause, and Willow put two and two together just like Buffy had hoped she would. “Oh. Oh! Wait. You want me to rewire the robot?”

“If you can.”

Buffy wasn’t Willow’s best friend for nothing. She knew that her statement was the equivalent of throwing down the gauntlet, but with any luck, that’s all it would take to get Willow moving.

“Of course I can!” Willow sounded a little hurt. “Where is she now?”

“At Spike’s place, in the spare bedroom.”

“We’re headed there now,” Willow promised.

Buffy hung up the phone, praying that Spike’s plan worked, that this wouldn’t end up being some grand last stand. She sighed, leaning against the outer wall of the hospital, taking a moment to gather her thoughts and calm herself.

The thought of losing Giles frightened her; he was one of the key people in her life, and she didn’t know how she’d do without him. None of them could do without him.

~~~~~

Wesley covered a yawn with his hand, then opened the closet door. “That is eerie.”

Willow pushed past him to get a glimpse of April on the floor of the closet, looking for all the world like a dead body. “Very.”

“Are we going to stay here?”

“I guess we’d better.” Willow gave the robot a speculative look. “I’d hate to get stopped by the police because it looks like we’re driving around with a dead body. I brought my toolkit.”

“When did Spike want April ready?”

Willow grimaced. “Two days, which is definitely wishful thinking. I promised I’d try, though. I think that’s when Spike wants to start going after these guys.”

Wesley picked April up, putting her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. She was heavier than she appeared, possibly because of the metal and wires. “Where do you want her?”

“Let’s start in the study.”

Wesley took the robot and laid her out on the floor. Willow went immediately to work, setting up her laptop to run diagnostics. She’d learned a lot from the pieces of Ted she’d salvaged several years before, and it soon became clear that about the only thing April knew how to do was please Warren.

“She has no skills, Wesley!” Willow said, incensed. “He left her completely defenseless.”

“Well, he only wanted one thing out of her.” Wesley kept his tone reasonable, but the look that Willow shot him said clearly that she did not appreciate his acceptance of Warren’s intentions.

“He made her for sex!”

“Which is incredibly wrong, no question,” Wesley agreed. “But other than her battery running low, she seemed to manage just fine without Warren.”

Willow snorted and didn’t reply. Wesley watched her work, dozing off once before waking up with a start at the sound of the door opening and closing.

“Hello?”

“Back here, Buffy!”

The Slayer showed up a few minutes later, looking tired and worn out. “Thanks for getting started on this so soon, Will.”

“Oh, no! It’s fascinating!” The new project had her as enthusiastic as Wesley had ever seen her, and he wondered how long it would be before Willow managed to meld her love of computers and magic; he gave her two years—tops.

Buffy grinned, some of the weariness leaving her face. “I’m glad you’re having fun.”

“Where’s Spike?” Wesley asked from his spot in the desk chair.

“He’s staying at the hospital for now. He seems to think that he can do without sleep better than I can, and he’s probably right. Are Tara and Quinn still at your place?”

“Along with Oscar,” Wesley confirmed. “They’re watching in turns.”

“Great. I’m going to get cleaned up and get some sleep,” Buffy announced. She gave Willow a sympathetic look. “Don’t stay up all night. You can get some sleep, no matter what Spike seems to think.”

Willow shrugged. “We’ll see. If I can’t keep my eyes open, I’ll probably catch a few hours.”

“Good night, guys.”

Wesley put his hands behind his head. “Do you need my help?”

“Go catch some sleep on the couch,” Willow ordered.

Wesley wasn’t about to argue. He figured he needed to get whatever sleep he could; they were going to be too busy for sleep soon.

~~~~~

Quinn checked her knives for dings and nicks, making sure that they were sharp and ready for use. Her father was sitting across from her at the table cleaning his gun. “How are you?” he asked softly.

“I’m okay, Dad.”

“You killed one of your own today, Quinn.”

“It had to be done.”

“It did, but that doesn’t mean you’re okay with it.”

Quinn sighed. “I’m not going back, Dad. The Council isn’t the place for me anymore.”

“I was wondering how long it would take you to reach that conclusion.” Oscar continued to clean his weapon, appearing completely calm. “The Council was never the right place for you, but there aren’t a lot of options for someone with your skill set and background.”

Quinn’s lips quirked in a smile. “I’m thinking about asking Spike for a job. He might have need for more muscle for his operation. Or maybe I’ll start my own business.” She put her knife down and met her dad’s eyes. “What are you going to do?”

“The world still needs a Slayer, and the Council is likely to go through some serious changes in the near future. When word gets around that Travers sent the best of his wet works team to kill one of his own, and that they’re all dead, there’s going to be a power shift.”

“As long as Travers is out on his arse,” Quinn muttered. “Did Mom start the news along the grapevine?”

“As soon as I had called.” Oscar’s smirk indicated just how pleased he was. “It won’t be long before the rumblings become rifts, and the rifts tear the current administration apart.”

“Who is going to end up being head, do you think?” Quinn asked.

“Singh, I think,” Oscar replied thoughtfully. “He’s a well-liked, practical sort of man, who honors tradition. He’s not imaginative, which is why he’ll go back to ignoring William the Bloody, as the Council has done for the last century or so.”

Quinn sighed. “I suppose it might be too much to hope for that the Council would learn and grow from this experience.”

Oscar laughed. “Yes, I think so.”

She slid her knife into its sheathe. “Well, maybe someday.”

“You could always try to play politics and try to become Council head yourself someday,” her father suggested, a twinkle in his eye.

Quinn snorted. “Bite your tongue. You know how I feel about politics.”

Oscar just laughed.