And Make a Lost World Thy Home: Chapter Twelve

[jesterladyfic]

Chapter Twelve

When Veronica opened her eyes she was confused. She’d thought she was fighting vampires in the hotel but something was wrong with her vision. It felt like she was seeing double. There was the hotel yes, but overlaying that was the Wolfram and Hart building. She was walking outside of it with Wesley, Tara, and Mac. Mac held her notebook laptop. At the doors Mac stopped, but the others kept walking. On the other side of the building Wesley stopped and Tara kept walking. On the point of the building between the third and fourth sides she stopped. Veronica rounded the corner again and saw Mac.

She blinked because there was something tangible in the air, a light glowing of energy connecting Mac to Tara and Tara to Wesley and Wesley to Mac.

When she blinked it was gone and she was back in the hotel, Logan leaning over her with a worried look on his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Be okay because you are the only wife I’ve got.”

“I guess I can put that fear about the secret Mormonism to rest,” she said, accepting his hand and pulling herself up. “What happened?”

“You tell me,” said Buffy.

Veronica looked around. There were piles of dust littering the floor, Cordelia was patching up Angel’s midsection, and Wesley and Tara were muttering together by the front door.

“Spike’s gone,” she said. “They have him and the amulet, they can do their ritual.”

“Which means we need to get over there now,” said Buffy. “But there are vampires surrounding the building. Wesley and Tara have a shield going on, but that’s holding us back as well as the vampires.”

Veronica nodded, trying to think. She was having trouble again, distinguishing reality from possible futures. She realized she was still holding Logan’s hand and she quietly turned to him.

“Do you think I can do this?” she asked, almost forcing herself to ask.

Logan’s brow furrowed and he looked her up and down.

“You? You can do anything, Veronica.”

“I wish I’d known before,” she said, suddenly buoyed with more confidence. It was nice to be believed in. “Angel, is there any other way to get out of here?”

“Basement,” said Angel. “I’m pretty sure they’ve never found that way in.”

“Then let’s pack and get going,” said Veronica. “Mac, you’ve got the spell we talked about, right?”

“Sure thing, boss,” said Mac. “We’re ready on that front.”

“Then let’s go.”

Angel, Buffy, Cordelia, and Logan stocked themselves up with weapons. Veronica took a stake and a knife while Wesley coolly packed rounds of ammunition.

“Can that shield stay up once you’re gone?” asked Buffy.

Tara nodded.

“We’ll set a time constraint on it. If we’re not here to reinforce the energy it will collapse after that point and we don’t want to exert ourselves too much. We’re going to need everything we’ve got for later.”

Angel led the way to the basement and through a maze of tunnels. They found one vampire guard a short distance away but they quickly disposed of him. They kept going and when they emerged from the tunnels they were close to Wolfram and Hart. Veronica closed her eyes and concentrated.

“I think we need to go around to the back,” she said. “It will be easier to get inside. They’ve sent out most of their muscle to keep us in place at the hotel, but the Senior Partners and whoever they’ve got doing the ritual are sure to be on guard. Besides…they’re close, closer on this side.”

It was amazing how everyone just automatically obeyed her. She should have gotten the sight years ago. Or at least known about it.

There were guards at the loading dock entrance and a security system Mac quickly disabled while Angel and Buffy did their fighting thing.

“Are you ready” Veronica asked Mac.

Mac nodded and grinned, pressing some buttons on her notebook.

They crept along the corridors while Veronica felt a whole lot of déjà vu as she led them. Suddenly the whole building shook and they all fell to the floor.

“What the hell was that?” asked Logan.

“Ritual’s started,” said Veronica. “They’re opening up the gates of hell.”

***

Buffy had been fairly calm up to this point, but her blood had reached the point of an apocalypse when all she needed was an enemy to fight.

“Then we’d best close them before Sunnydale’s crater decides to expand to LA,” she said. “Veronica, how close are we?”

Veronica sounded a bit shaken.

“Close. I think it’s those double doors up there.”

Buffy nodded and took off down the hall, the rest of them following after. When they got to the doors they found more guards.

Buffy ducked under a punch, swinging her axe to slice the vampire’s head off. Beside her Angel was battling a demon taller than any demon had a right to be. Cordelia and Logan were engaged with other guards and Buffy set in to slay vampires, figuring she might as well follow her calling.

Veronica held a whispered conversation with Mac who was rapidly typing on her keyboard. She took up her station to the left of the doors. When a demon slipped past Logan and ran for her, it ran smack into an invisible wall surrounding her before Wesley blew its head off with his shotgun.

Buffy staked the last vampire and turned to look at the others.

“You know what to do,” said Veronica to Tara and Wesley.

They each turned to Mac and extended one hand to touch her invisible wall, and then they ran away from everyone, each down a different hallway, trailing their hands behind them. Buffy could almost see the energy they were dragging from Mac’s wall.

“Now it’s our turn,” said Buffy. She kicked the doors in and ran inside.

***

Spike was having a bit of an off day. He woke to find himself bound in the center of a circle of people clad in suits. There were lines drawn on the floor and someone had removed his coat and shirt. Candles lined the room, the only illumination available, casting shadows that made it tricky to distinguish shapes. The same dark cloud that had dragged him from the hotel swirled above his head.

His wrists were restrained by manacles that were welded to the floor. He tested their strength and found himself unable to budge them. They had clearly been made for something stronger than him - even the chain links were unbreakable. Someone was chanting behind him and he turned his head to look.

There were figures there in dark robes, appropriately spooky and ritualistic. He rolled his eyes. The woman named Lilah stood in front of them and in her hands she held a pillow, the amulet resting upon it.

Something snapped in his vision when he saw it. He hadn’t exactly been thrilled at the idea of this sodding trinket connecting him back to the earth and linking him to some kind of destiny. To tell the truth, he’d never really wanted to see it again, but there was something about it right now, something very special, and he was curious to know what would happen if he put it on again.

“All in good time,” said Lilah, kneeling far enough away from him that he couldn’t touch her. “You’ll be reunited soon enough.”

“My coat had better be in the same fine condition you found it in,” was all he said to her.

She smiled broadly and turned back to the hooded figures. He could sense energy starting to build up and he tried to figure out some way of escaping. He doubted he would, so unless someone came to rescue him, he had a feeling he was about to be the source of a brand new Hellmouth.

The shadows rose higher along the walls and the chanting grew louder. The bleating of a goat was abruptly cut off and the smell of fresh blood assaulted his senses. The blood was soon sprinkled in the air around him, splattering his chest and face.

The dark cloud above him was what was really bothering him. It idly swirled, seemingly not doing anything important, but he had the feeling it was somehow the current embodiment of the Senior Partners.

Suddenly the cloud flashed brightly and spread toward the walls and down the door. The entire building shook and only Spike’s manacles kept him from falling over, cruelly digging into his wrists.

There was a loud popping sound and Lilah began walking toward Spike with the amulet. He kept looking for a way out but it wasn’t until the doors flung open and Buffy rushed in that he had any hope of one. His eyes connected with hers for a moment and then Lilah slipped the amulet over his head.

His world disappeared into a burst of light, but it didn’t feel like the light and fire of before. It was colder, fiercer, and he had no purpose. It still felt right; it felt like something he’d been missing without knowing it. Something pressed down against his very soul, the soul he could feel with a tangible weight, and he screamed.

***

Logan found himself wishing he’d asked to borrow Wesley’s guns before the man had run to take his place. It would have been far easier to find a corner and snipe down the demons and vampires that were assailing him now. He was a pretty good shot, practicing regularly at the shooting gallery, but there was no time to think about it now.

He ducked and weaved and thrust and ducked some more. It was far more likely one of these monsters would be feasting on him than he would be slaying it. He stayed close to Veronica and tried to stay alive. That was really all he could do at this point.

As they entered the room, shadows rose to meet them, as did the horrible dark cloud from before. It was intangible, yet menacing, and it hovered over them as if waiting to pounce.

Buffy wasted no time in fighting her way toward Spike. He was bound in the center of the room with the amulet glowing red on his chest. Two demons had their hands on his chest and Spike was screaming in pain.

Angel and Cordelia went for the shadowy figures standing behind Spike, which left Logan and Veronica to defend the doors, keeping anything from leaving and attacking the magic trio.

It was hard to concentrate on anything but the fighting, but Logan found Veronica stopping suddenly and putting her hand to her head and then he fought harder to defend her. It wasn’t as if she was in pain, it was as if she was struggling to see beyond her own mind.

A voice rose above the cacophony, shrill and defiant, echoed by deeper and more growling tones in the shadows. Somewhere a goat let out a painful bleat and then was silenced.

“Hic nos introire. Ipsi aperimus portas. Os aperitur via haud ambigue sollicitari. Ascendunt ex inferno comburet iustos. Iterum tenebris trahi possumus.”

“I really should have studied Latin in school,” Logan mumbled to himself, dropping to his knees and spinning away from a sword thrust.

The building shook again and the cloud above them began to vibrate, pulsing brighter and then darker, brighter and then darker.

Spike screamed again.

Behind Logan the doors now framed three figures, white fire emanating from their fingertips. Logan frowned in confusion. It was Mac, Wesley, and Tara, but this didn’t look like normal magic.

Mac stood in the middle, still holding her notebook and it appeared to be the source of the white fire, which threaded from her to Tara and Wesley on either side.

Logan stopped fighting for a second to stare. The three of them walked forward, apparently still protected by Mac’s invisible wall, until they reached the center of the room, just in front of the circle holding Spike.

Veronica started forward.

***

As soon as Veronica saw Mac, Wesley, and Tara, her vision cleared and everything clicked into place in her mind. This was the version of the future she had been waiting for. Nothing else really mattered because now the plan she had concocted could take place, no matter the detours it might have taken to get here.

She grinned and moved forward behind the three magic users. They stopped in front of the circle and then Wesley and Tara moved around it, stopping so they formed a triangle surrounding the circle. The white fire that connected them glowed.

The cloud above became almost agitated, as if the sentience controlling it knew what was about to happen. Veronica knew she had to move fast so she ran to where Buffy was tackling two of the hooded creatures of which there appeared to be a limitless supply.

“We have to go now,” she said, grabbing Buffy’s hand and pulling her behind her past Mac and into the circle.

As soon as they were inside, the white fire sprang up into a visible wall, locking them in the circle with Spike. The darkness above them sprang down, shrouding the entire room, and any glimpse of their allies was lost. Mac’s face looked tense, her shoulders clenched as she typed.

“Hurry,” she gritted out. “This thing is stronger than anything I’ve ever faced and even the collective power of the Internet will give way eventually.”

There were two demons still holding Spike down, their hands on his naked, blood-splattered chest.

Buffy tapped one on the shoulder.

“That’s my undead boyfriend and I’d like you to get your hands off him,” she said, smiling before swinging her axe, sinking it deep into his chest and then yanking it back out.

The demon fell but the other one sprang at her and she had to fall back for room.

Veronica turned to focus on Spike who had slumped down now that he’d been released. His wrists were manacled and bloody from where he’d strained against them. When she looked at them she knew they were magically built and reinforced and there was no way she could get them off.

He looked blearily at her, his eyes somehow focused on some internal struggle. The amulet glowed dully on his chest, a reddish tint, but not the deep red it had been while the demons were holding him.

“Spike,” she whispered softly. “Can you hear me?”

“Bit busy, luv,” he said wearily, his voice more of a reflex than an interaction.

Veronica tried to concentrate, but the noise of Buffy’s fight and the white glare of the magic and the somehow tangible pressure of the darkness above was bearing down on her. At this point, she didn’t know what to do exactly. The whole point of her magic plan was to disrupt the ritual and that’s exactly what was happening, but how to save Spike once he was a part of it, she didn’t know.

If Spike used the amulet in the new way it had been twisted into by the ritual, he’d open a new Hellmouth. If he used it to try and close it, he could burn up like before. The amulet was supposedly indestructible. She couldn’t see past this moment, she just didn’t know how. Everything was so new and she couldn’t see how to save him.

“Psst, Veronica,” said Lilly. Veronica turned. Lilly crouched near Spike, inspecting his neck. “He doesn’t look so good.”

“Lilly, what do I do?” asked Veronica.

Lilly cocked her head and frowned.

“You’re the fabulous Veronica Mars, you think of something.”

“Lilly, I need your help. I don’t know how to see a good future coming out of this.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so obsessed with the future,” said Lilly and then she was gone, her image fading.

“What the hell does inner me Lilly mean by that?” asked Veronica.

She paced for a second, passing by where Tara and Wesley were holding their spots. Wesley’s nostrils were bleeding and Tara was hunched over like she was holding the world. Mac’s notebook was smoking and she had sunk to the ground.
More than one life was in the balance here.

Veronica ran back over everything she knew about the amulet. If Spike was here, he was supposed to be able to control it, since he had imprinted on it, but Spike was lost inside himself at the moment. What could jog that out of him? Veronica smiled upon an image she’d seen in a cave, in the not so distant past.

There was a grunt behind her and Buffy finally felled her opponent and then staggered back.

“Is he okay?” she asked Veronica, laboring to stand up.

Veronica reached down and gave her a hand and then pulled her toward Spike.

“You tell me,” she said and then shoved Buffy in front of Spike, weaving their hands together.

***

Sparks ignited instantly, a flame rushing to cover Buffy and Spike’s joined hands. Spike’s head perked up and his eyes lost the look of despair he’d been wearing. Buffy gasped at the shock of energy surrounding them.

“Buffy,” said Spike, his voice ragged.

“What?” she asked.

“I’d like to stop wearing this amulet,” he said.

“It’s okay by me,” she said. Spike shook his head and the amulet stopped glowing red. White fire glinted in its heart and she looked at him, worried. “Will it burn?” she asked.

Spike shrugged and then appeared to concentrate. The fire consuming their hands ran down to the manacles and they burned, glowing brightly before he snapped them, standing up and bringing Buffy up with him.

“Listen up,” said Spike, and his voice somehow rang through the room and the sounds of fighting. “Spike is officially closed for business. I won’t be anybody’s sodding plaything. You can take your Hellmouths and your Higher Purposes and shove them because the only thing I plan on doing with my life is whatever the bloody hell the Slayer wants.”

Buffy almost laughed as she watched, her hands tightly entwined in his, the flames surrounding, but not hurting her.

Spike took their joined hands and grasped the amulet, holding it out and the light shot up into the air, high above the fire of Mac’s circle and straight into the darkness. There was a screeching sound and the darkness swirled madly. Buffy watched the room lighten, the candles behaving normally again. Demons fled and lawyers ran and she saw Lilah pick something off the ground and disappear into the shadows. The fierce glow surrounding Cordelia began to pierce through the dark of the room, illuminating it along with the candles and the white fire of Mac’s circle. The cloud above whirled and then suddenly stopped, seeming to not be as thick as it had been before. Then the darkness vanished and Buffy blinked because the light from the amulet was still so strong.

Behind her Mac, Tara, and Wesley collapsed as one, the energy link between them broken. Angel and Cordelia rushed to Wesley while Veronica knelt by Mac and Logan ran forward to help Tara. Buffy only had eyes for Spike who brought the amulet down and released her hands.

“Spike, what are you doing?” she asked, sudden fear overwhelming her. Was she about to lose him again?

“Trust me, love,” he said.

Her hands were flame free but his own were still burning. He slowly pulled the amulet over his head with one hand and the light instantly began to fade as did the flames. Before they were gone he held his burning hand over the jewel and focused the flames on it.

There was a white hot explosion of heat and Buffy staggered back before rushing forward in alarm.

“Spike!” she yelled.

He stood there in the middle of the circle, a blackened and charred chain in his hand, his own hands raw and red.

“Feel a bit sick,” he said and keeled over.

She ran to him and it was no good checking his pulse to see if he was alive, but at least he wasn’t dust.

“You’re not allowed to die,” she said. “Only one death each per relationship, that’s the rule.”

“You never follow the rules,” he said faintly and she grinned.

“Thankfully neither do you,” she said and kissed him.