Latter Days

Author: enigmaticblue

Rating: PG-15

Disclaimer: I don’t own most of these characters, and I don’t make money off the ones I do. So there.

Summary: Set post-Chosen. After the Slayers are activated, the balance between good and evil is disturbed, and the Scoobies are flung to the far corners of the world to respond to the crisis. In the midst of all of this, will they be able to keep their relationships strong? Or will they be divided by circumstances and torn apart by fate? Follows my short story Yesterday.

A/N: Remember how things went after Chosen? Well, forget about all of that, and ignore the comics. This is my version. This series is comprised of Latter Days, Faithfully Dangerous, and Now and Always, and the entire series will be known by the third title. You’ll see why. (And although some of the locations mentioned in this fic exist, this is my world, which means that I’m twisting reality to my own ends.)

Chapter 4: Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

“…I don’t know what to tell you about the Cleveland Hellmouth, Faith. You’re lucky you’ve been able to reach a few girls. We finally found one alive the other day. It looks like they’re being targeted, and the untrained Slayers are as vulnerable as the potentials were…” ~Excerpt of an email from Willow Rosenberg to Faith Lehane

Willow rubbed her eyes wearily. She’d been up with Spike all night, attempting to find the second Slayer, one that the coven hadn’t been aware of. She had no idea whether that meant the girl had been activated when the other Slayer had been killed, or if the coven had simply missed one.

She’d caught a few hours of sleep, up until Giles had called, then she’d gone out looking for the girl with Kennedy, who had finally shown up, refusing to divulge where she had been. It didn’t matter, however; they had found the girl alive, and she’d left Kennedy to watch from a distance until the new Watcher arrived.

Once the sun had gone down, Willow had accompanied Spike to the airport, and now she was waiting for the new Watcher.

All she really wanted was to sleep.

Giles had described the new Watcher as a tall, blonde woman with glasses, but there were a few of those coming out of the gate. Willow realized that she probably should have brought a sign with her.

“Willow Rosenberg?” The woman standing in front of her was indeed tall and blonde, and rather plain, with a broad, round face, her eyes hidden behind thick glasses.

“That’s me,” Willow replied, mustering up a smile. “You must be Zoë Michelson.”

“Yes. I recognized you from a photo,” she explained, “that Dawn was kind enough to show me before I left so I would know you immediately.”

Willow smiled. “That’s Dawnie. Always thinking. How is she?”

“Worried about Buffy, I believe,” Zoë replied frankly. “But otherwise delightful.” She looked a little wistful when she said, “She will be an absolutely amazing Watcher.”

“If Buffy ever lets her out into the field,” Willow said, knowing that Buffy was likely to fight that tooth and nail. Her money was on Dawn for winning, though. She’d managed to get back to Sunnydale, even though Buffy had asked Xander to spirit her off.

Zoë nodded. “Yes, there is that. Did Spike already leave? I’ve heard a lot about him.”

“About two hours ago,” Willow confirmed. “Are you hungry? We can stop and get something to eat, but then I’m afraid I’ll have to put you to work. We’ve found another Slayer, and we need an interpreter. I don’t know how we’re going to convince her to come along in Portuguese, but it would probably be impossible in English.”

Zoë looked thoughtful. “I think the standard speech when we locate a potential Slayer will do just as well with a few modifications.”

Willow was glad that the other woman seemed to know what she was doing, because she still had no idea.

~~~~~

Twenty-four hours later, and Willow had to admit that she was impressed with the other woman. She had a brisk efficiency and a tireless manner that was very welcome; Willow recognized someone that she could share the burden with in a way that Kennedy hadn’t been able to manage.

Not only had she put the new Slayer, Rute, at ease, but she had convinced her to come to the training room the Council had bought to train the new Slayers once they’d been found. Rute had appeared excited about the opportunity, and she’d convinced her parents to allow her to stay the night at a friend’s house.

The only thing that Zoë hadn’t been able to do was to make peace with Kennedy, who had been prickly all day. When the Watcher had admitted that she was unlikely to best the girl with weapons, Kennedy had seemed to lose all desire to even attempt to work with her.

Now Kennedy was arguing about the best way to disarm an opponent, and it was clear that Zoë was rapidly becoming frustrated.

“Enough, Kennedy!” the Watcher finally snapped, exasperated. “I might not be a weapons master, but I do know how to use them.”

“You’re tripping over your own sword,” Kennedy shot back. “I don’t see why I should have to listen to you.”

“Maybe because Giles sent me to help train you.” Clearly trying for a lighter tone, Zoë added, “Who knows? You might learn something new.”

“Forget it,” Kennedy said. “I don’t need a Watcher.”

Willow opened her mouth to say something, but Zoë gave a quick shake of her head behind the Slayer’s back. “If you don’t need a Watcher, you don’t need to be here.”

Kennedy stomped out a moment later, and the Watcher turned to Rute and spoke in Portuguese; the younger girl had been watching the conflict with wide eyes. Her English wasn’t good, but she probably spoke enough to catch most of that.

Willow couldn’t communicate very well in Portuguese, but she understood enough to catch the gist of it. Rute headed out for a well-deserved break, and Zoë turned to her. “She’s not going to be able to stay.”

“I know.” Willow let out a breath. “I’ve known it was coming for a while now.”

Zoë sat down next to her on the bench in the training room they had rented. “I realize that I’m not the most proficient with weapons, but—”

“You were right. You’re the Watcher, and what you say goes.” Willow was quiet for a moment, thinking back to Sunnydale. “She never liked taking orders, and over the last few weeks, she got used to being in charge.”

Zoë shook her head. “She could still be in charge out in the field, but not in the training room.”

“I don’t think she sees the difference.” Willow closed her eyes. “I’ll talk to Giles. She might do better with Faith and Robin; she’ll recognize Faith’s authority where she won’t yours.”

“That might work. I’m sorry. I know you two were involved.”

“That ended,” Willow replied. “Right around the time that Spike showed up, but it’s been going that route for a while. Honestly, Kennedy was a rebound.”

Zoë nodded. “I get that. I’ve had a couple of those myself.”

They shared a commiserating look. “What are we going to do?”

“Find more Slayers,” Zoë replied. “It’s the only thing we can do.”

~~~~~

“Slayer.”

Kennedy whirled to face the oncoming threat. “What are you?”

“I’m your death.”

She couldn’t see the demon clearly in the half-light of the alley. She’d refused company on her patrol, leaving Willow with Rute and Zoë, since they were getting along so well. There was a small part of her that knew she was being petty and jealous, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

It hurt to know that her relationship with Willow had been transitory; she’d believed that she was in love, and had thought that Willow loved her. It wasn’t like that at all.

Now, she found herself in an alley in Rio de Janeiro, staring into the face of a demon who promised death.

“Bring it on,” she said. She’d faced death before; it didn’t scare her.

The demon started for her, raising clawed hands. Kennedy ducked and kicked up from her crouched position, her booted heel landing solidly on its chest. The hand grabbed her ankle and twisted, the claws biting deep into her leg and sending her tumbling to the ground.

She cursed fluently, jerking her leg free and rolling to one side. Kennedy suddenly knew that if she didn’t get out of there, and quickly, she really would see death close up. Grunting with the pain, and holding herself up with her arms, she swept her good leg around to take the demon down in a jumble of arms and legs.

The claws sliced her side, and she narrowed her eyes, reaching for her stake and plunging it into the demon’s chest. Kennedy had no idea whether or not the weapon would be effective, but she sure as hell knew that it would buy her time.

All she needed was a little time to get back to the house. They might not be talking right now, but Willow would help.

~~~~~

Zoë was awoken from a sound sleep by someone shaking her shoulder. “Wha—” She recognized Willow as soon as she opened her eyes. “What happened?”

“It’s Kennedy,” the witch said. “Come quickly.”

She took enough time to throw a robe over her short nightshirt before following Willow out to the living room. Rute was standing there, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, face pale, staring at the still figure on the couch.

Kennedy was covered in blood, and Zoë quickly said in Portuguese, “Go get the bandages and hot water, Rute. Quickly, now.”

The girl scurried off, and Zoë knelt at the Slayer’s side. “This is bad.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Kennedy replied weakly. “I’m not going to make it.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Zoë said briskly. “You’ve lost quite a bit of blood, but it doesn’t appear that any of your wounds are fatal.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m a Watcher; it’s part of my job.” Zoë accepted the kit that Rute held out to her, and motioned to Willow. “We need to begin with the worst wounds, and she’ll need liquids.” The tea kettle whistled in the background, and Zoë nodded, satisfied. “Good, Rute. Grab the hot water and any juice you find in the fridge.”

She worked quickly in conjunction with Willow to “plug the leaks,” as her old mentor had been wont to say. Kennedy’s injuries were bad, and while unlikely to kill her, there was always the possibility of poison. The important thing was to stop the bleeding; they would worry about the rest later.

When Kennedy looked like she was losing consciousness, Zoë slapped her lightly on the cheeks. “Stay with me,” she ordered. “I need you to describe the demon.”

“I didn’t see it clearly,” the girl replied, looking as though she would pass out at any moment. “It was too dark. Claws. That’s all.”

Zoë shared a look with Willow, but she didn’t want to frighten the injured girl; Kennedy might like to pretend otherwise, but she was still little more than a scared adolescent. “Sleep now,” she said. “You’ll be just fine.”

Rute was hovering nearby, looking at them anxiously. “Will she die?” she asked in her native tongue.

The Watcher wanted to tell her that there was no way, but she knew that lying to her would be incredibly unfair. The poor girl hadn’t even been able to get used to the idea of being a Slayer before being faced with the realities of being injured—or worse.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “Are you frightened?”

“Yes,” Rute admitted. “But I will not quit.”

“Good.” Zoë turned to Willow. “We need to track the demon if we can and find out what it was. If its claws were poisonous, time could be of the essence.”

“She probably bled all the way here,” the witch replied. “I can track her that way.”

“Take Rute with you,” Zoë said. “She may be of some help.”

Willow frowned. “She’s untrained.”

“This is how Slayers become trained,” Zoë replied, knowing that it wasn’t fair, but it was reality. The only way the girl would learn was to be in danger.

This was the part about being an active Watcher that she hadn’t looked forward to.

~~~~~

There was a part of Willow that knew that every Slayer who died was her responsibility. If she hadn’t resurrected Buffy, the First Evil never would have been able to exploit the weakness in the Slayer line, and they wouldn’t have had to activate all the potentials. It was one of those facts that she tended to keep at the back of her mind to avoid being paralyzed with guilt, but it was at the forefront now.

With Rute slipping through the darkness next to her, and Kennedy lying injured back at their apartment, Willow was reminded once again of how far-reaching the consequences of her actions could be.

The body of the demon was easy to find; the blood trail was obvious with the modified locator spell she was using. Willow used a simple light spell to illuminate the demon’s face, and Rute let out an exclamation as soon as she saw it.

“What is it?” Willow asked, then repeated her question in Portuguese. It was one of the few phrases she knew how to say.

The girl shook her head, looking frustrated. “Monster.” She motioned, clearly impatient with her inability to communicate effectively. “Freddy Kreuger?”

Rute looked hopeful, and Willow frowned, trying to figure out what she meant by that. “Oh! You mean the boogeyman?”

The girl nodded. “Evil monster.”

“Let’s get back,” Willow said. “I think we have enough information to identify the kind of demon now.”

Rute probably had no idea what she’d just said, but she followed her away from the body without saying anything. Willow wished that she had a spell that would magically enable her to learn a new language without having to work at it.

When they arrived back at the apartment, Zoë listened to the description of the demon, the crease between her brows deepening. “That sounds like a Brazilian Demos. That’s not good.”

“Are you thinking poison?” Willow asked. They were standing in the kitchen, talking in low voices. Zoë had sent Rute to bed, thanking her for her help, and they were both trying to avoid disturbing Kennedy, who was sleeping fitfully.

“I’m thinking assassin.” The Watcher looked at Willow sharply. “Do you know which demon clan it was that killed the other girl?”

The witch shook her head. “Spike just said the area was controlled by a demon clan, but not which one.”

“We’ll need confirmation, but I would imagine that it’s the Demos clan,” Zoë said. “They’re assassins, and if one went after Kennedy, and another killed the first girl, we’ve got a major problem. We’re going to be racing to find Slayers. The ones we don’t find will probably wind up dead.”

“But no pressure,” Willow murmured. “Shit.”

“That would be one way to put it.” Zoë began pacing. “There must be a better way to find these girls. If the Demos are killing girls here, then this may be a more widespread problem. It may be one of the reasons why we’re having so much trouble finding them.”

Willow sank down in a kitchen chair. “That would mean we have the same trouble we had with the Bringers. You can’t find Slayers if they’re dead.”

“Here in Rio de Janeiro, at least,” Zoë said. “From what Giles has said, he isn’t having quite the same trouble in England or on the Continent. It’s entirely possible that this demon clan is taking steps to ensure that their reign is uninterrupted.”

Willow frowned. “Then time is of the essence. We need to put a stop to this immediately, but we’re going to need help. I wish Spike hadn’t left.”

“Can we get him back?” Zoë asked.

Willow winced. “Tearing him from Buffy’s side before they’ve even been able to have reunion sex? I doubt it. I need to call Giles and let him know what’s going on. If we can, we should probably send Kennedy on to Faith. Maybe he’ll have some idea of how to deal with this new threat.” She sighed. “The problem is that we’re spread so thin already. We just don’t have enough trained Slayers or Watchers to take out a threat of this magnitude.”

“There are other trained Slayers,” Zoë said, musing. “Those who were in Sunnydale with you. I can talk to Giles, too, and try to convince him to send as many as he can.”

“Roving bands of Slayers,” Willow joked. “He’ll love that.”

“We need them.”

“I know.” Willow shook her head. “I know we should get on this immediately, but—”

“Sleep,” Zoë advised. “We both need it, and we won’t be much good without it. Rute is the only known Slayer in the area right now, and we can’t do anything for the ones we don’t know about.”

“You call Giles tomorrow,” Willow said. “If we have to recall Spike, I don’t want to be the one delivering that news, even second hand. I’ll call the coven. We need to locate the girls here as soon as possible.”

Although that probably went without saying.