Chapter Text
Angel looked up as the lone figure of Spike stepped out of the shadows in the dark ally. Spike's face was spotted with blood, though he seemed more or less unharmed. The rain pouring down as if the sky itself had opened up, making the blood on Spike's face run down his skin in places.
Angel asked, "Anyone else?"
"Not so far," Spike responded tonelessly. Fear for his friends colored his voice. Or if not friends, then friendly acquaintances who had the potential to one day be friends. The dichotomy was something strange for him. Fred had been the only one Spike would have actually called a friend. The carelessly casual rapport between them. The empathy they that could pass wordlessly as they stood silently in a room together. Spike had never felt anything that came so easily. She was like the sister he'd never had. Had Spike the courage to use the words he would have told her. Tried to somehow quantify what she meant to him. Somehow make her see, if it wasn't as obvious to her as it was to him. But that, like everything else Spike had ever possessed, had been stripped away. He never got the chance. Life had a knack of doing that kind of thing.
Rain poured down over Spike and Angel, standing alone in the ally. The air thick. There was a heaviness slowly building in the air that had nothing to do with the rain. A shiver worked it's way across Spike's skin beneath his coat. Spike and Angel shared a look. Spike asked the question, "You feel the heat?"
Angel was tense. "It's comin'!"
Spike smiled humorlessly. He tilted his neck back and let the rainwater run down across his face. "Finally got ourselves a decent brawl."
Spike took his cigarettes and his lighter out of his coat. He looked at the soaked cigarette in his hand and tossed it away. "Bloody figures!"
A lone figure in the rain at the other end of the ally. The figure held an axe in one hand. Moving closer with a slightly awkward gait.
"Damn," said Gunn, jogging the last distance exhaustedly. "How'd I know the fang boys would pull through." He panted. "You're lucky we're on the same side dawgs . . . 'cause I was on fire tonight. Like it was . . ." Spike and Angel both reached out and steadied Gunn as he nearly collapsed right there on the pavement. ". . . tight." Spike settled him on a crate beside a dumpster at one side of the ally.
Gunn was holding one hand to his mid-section. The sweatshirt he was wearing was soaked with blood there.
Spike teased the other man humorlessly, "You're supposed to wear that red stuff on the inside, Charlie boy."
Gunn looked down at the sticky dampness of his hand. The deep wound in his gut slowly seeping blood. His hand trembling weakly.
Gunn finally looked up at them. "Any word on Wes?"
Spike frowned and shook his head a moment before something hit the pavement behind him. Spike and Angel spun around quickly only to see Illyria standing there. She had dropped down from the roof above them. Her mix of blue and brown hair was heavy and wet, hanging around her face limply. "Wesley's dead," Illyria said simply. Her voice had lost that usual overbearing tone. It was colored with sadness.
Spike, Angel and Gunn just looked at her for a few moments and then lowered their heads. Water trickled down their faces.
"I'm feeling grief for him," Illyria said. "I can't seem to control it."
Above the sound of the rain there was noises coming closer. Many noises.
"I wish to do more violence."
Spike smiled at her grimly, "Well wishes just happen to be horses today."
"Among other things," Angel added, stepping past them.
The other end of the ally was clogged with creatures. They were legion. Towering over them in the back was an even larger figure, it's features hazy in the dark and rain.
Something squealed high above them. Angel and Spike looked up to see a large creature circle overhead, flapping its wings. It's features were hard to make out in the brief moments that they watched it against the sky, except that it was scaly and ugly.
"Okay," said Gunn weakly. "You take the thirty thousand on the left . . ."
"You're fading," Illyria told the black man as groaning he got to his feet. His hand still clinging to his middle. "You'll last ten minutes at best."
Gunn's expression hardened. "Then let's make them memorable."
The four figures stepped to the middle of the ally. Gunn had his axe. Angel and Spike had swords. Illyria was bare handed.
Their opponents were vague shapes in the dark. There were so many it was hard to make out just one. Many of them seemed to be carrying swords. Spike and Gunn each thought of the orcs they remembered from the Lord of the Rings movies. Brutal. Tough. And in overwhelming numbers. They were packed shoulder to shoulder in the ally.
Spike, "In terms of a plan?"
"We fight," Angel answered tersely.
"Bit more specific," Spike suggested.
"Personally," Angel said, "I'd like to slay the dragon."
Stepping forward, Angel raised his sword.
"Let's go to work."
~ * ~
Spike swept his katana sword down smoothly. The creature's flesh parted beneath the slightly curved blade, opening up and spilling dark blood. The body fell, even as Spike's katana came around and cleanly cleaved the head off another.
"You know," said Spike as he delivered a diagonal backhand slash up across one opponent's chest and throat. "I could be missin' the bloody point here, but I'm beginnin' to think the Senior Partners don't like us very much."
"Whatever gave you that . . . idea." Angel grunted out the last word as one of the creatures struck him across the gut. Angel shoved it away. The creature stumbled and Angel quickly stabbed downward into it with his sword. Blood and ooze spurted up over his thighs for the brief moment before he ripped the blade free.
Gunn kicked one of the enemy horde away awkwardly, giving him just time enough to sweep his axe across another.
Gunn, breathlessly, "They were kind enough to send these intermediaries out to clarify their positions for us. The least we can do is deliver a strong, well crafted counterpoint." With a hard overhead swing Gunn buried his axe in the skull of the other. Flesh and bone crunched beneath the blade. The corpse fell heavy at his feet just as another orc came in close hacked at him with its sword. Gunn prized the axe free just in time to bring it up and catch the other blade against the handle. Off balance and weak, Gunn stumbled beneath the blow. Gunn looked up at the merciless twisted face of the creature standing over him, as the orc raised its blade for the killing blow.
Spike was for a moment too far away to help and could only watch as he dispatched his own foes one after another with his katana. He was like a killing machine, but he could do nothing.
Walking by, Illyria casually pulled the orc away from Gunn and snapped its neck thoughtlessly. She tossed the body in the path of a group of others. In the chaos that caused she was suddenly among them. In the brief glimpse Spike had he wasn't sure precisely what she did, only that bodies were falling to the ground and piling up around her like some much refuse.
A lightning quick kick by Illyria sent one creature flying backwards across the ally into a wall. Brick and mortar crumbled. The creature wasn't seen again.
Angel carved up orcs and then found himself facing off against an ogre.
Fifteen feet tall.
Pinched face. Thick, leathery skin.
The ogre simply reached out and plucked Angel from the ground by his head with one massive hand. Angel struggled, kicking his legs and trying to pull at the ogre's thick fingers where they held him.
The ogre tightened its fingers and crushed Angel's skull.
Angel's body had just started to fall from the ogre's hand as if it were in slow motion when it turned to a rain of ash across the pavement. The ogre looked down at the ash in the palm of its hand dumbly.
Gunn fought for his life. He was growing weaker. He could hardly even hold his feet.
One of the orcs finally got through his defenses, slicing across Gunn's mid section with it's sword even as Gunn cleaved it with his axe. In the flailing of that moment the axe was knocked away.
Gunn's guts spilled down his lap. Gunn stood there for a moment, looking down at the thick viscous liquid on both of his hands. A moment later he was gone, buried beneath the creatures.
The creatures swarmed over where Gunn fell. They fought and growled at each-other scrambling to get in close. A feeding frenzy. Spike fought his way through them to where Gunn had fallen. Hair and tiny bits of flesh clung to his blood soaked blade. Spike kicked, shoved, punched, and struck with his katana again and again. Finally he approached where he believed he had last seen Gunn there was a thick group of creatures there, all bent down over something on the ground.
The creatures were fighting over the body, ripping Gunn's dark, blood smeared flesh away with their teeth. Spike could hear the sound of the flesh tearing away.
Spike growled, clenching his teeth thoughtlessly. The creatures barely knew what hit them. The blade of Spike's katana was like a blur as he carved through them. He saw one look up at him, growling, lips pulling back from blood soaked teeth right before he hacked its head off.
"We must go," Illyria called out to Spike as she approached. She grabbed one orc and tossed it through the air carelessly, never breaking stride.
Spike just looked down at Gunn's mangled body. He mind couldn't comprehend the horror that he saw.
"Go where?" Spike asked lifelessly.
Illyria grabbed another orc and snapped its body over her knee. "Up," she said, gesturing against one wall of the ally. A rusted fire escape clung to the brick way like an prehistoric scaffold.
Spike nodded silently. His katana was silent death to the next three orcs that came on him in that moment. Expressionless, Spike slaughtered them.
Spike grabbed Gunn's axe off the concrete where it had fallen as he went by.
He and Illyria fought their way through side to side.
The ogre that had killed Angel stood almost beneath the fire escape. Illyria grabbed one of the creatures by the back of the neck and threw the flailing orc at the ogre a moment later as she attacked. The ogre batted her away with the back of its massive hand. She flew backward into a wall. Brick cracked where she hit. Spike had been right behind her. He buried Gunn's axe in one of the ogre's thick knees. The ogre roared its pain. Spike's sword swept through the leathery flesh at the back of the knee. The ogre kicked at him feebly and stumbled. It fell to the ground as Spike scrambled out of the way.
Spike dispatched another orc as it came at him and looked back in time to see a bloodied Illyria standing by the ogre's head. She raised both hands and hammered them down together on its skull. The thick bone cracked like an egg.
Spike switched his katana to his other hand, so he was holding both the axe and the ninja sword awkwardly in one hand, and took a running jump off the wall and grabbed the fire escape overhead. The rusted mechanism creaked as he pulled himself up. His bloodied knuckles straining. The fragile metal creation seemed to tremble beneath him as he scrambled across it. He saw Illyria scrambling up behind him as he went up the next flight. Another flight later he was on the roof.
"I parked my Mustang about a block or so over," said Spike. "If we're quick we might be able to reach it."
Illyria raised her icy eyes. Suddenly she grabbed Spike and pulled him to down to the roof alongside of her. Spike felt something pass just over him. He looked up in the direction of a loud noise to see the dragon tumble across the rooftop before trying to roll awkwardly to its feet. Thick wings moving uselessly.
Illyria advanced just as the dragon finally found its feet. It raised it's slitted bloodshot eyes and drew back it's head slightly. Spike opened his mouth to cry out a warning that proved useless a moment later as flames leapt from the dragon's mouth. Orange and red flames lashing across the air as if they were alive. The flames faded, leaving an ethereal orange haze hanging in the air where they had been.
Illyria had just managed to avoid them. She was standing off to one side. Her icy eyes were on the creature and she seemed much more cautious about approaching again. The dragon turned it's head to follow her.
Spike's arm flashed forward. Something flashed across the air and the dragon roared. The thick blade of Gunn's ax was buried deep in the scales of it's neck. Illyria moved. A moment later the dragon collapsed to the roof. Illyria looked down at the piece of its spine she had gripped in one small bloodied hand.
~ * ~
Spike dropped down from the roof next to the blue Mustang and stumbled to the pavement. "Ow!"
Illyria landed catlike beside him.
"We must me quick," said Illyria evenly, as bloodied, Spike climbed awkwardly to his unsteady feet. "They will be upon us again in moments."
Spike could hear them coming.
Illyria opened the passenger door to the car and got inside. The light inside the car flicked on and off. Even that worked in these strange moments.
Spike stumbled down his own side of the car. Almost leaning against it to keep his feet. He fumbled for the handle before finally getting the door open. He almost fell into the driver's seat.
Shifting awkwardly in the seat he reached deep into the pocket of his jeans and fumbled for the keys. He finally found them. Put them in the slot twisted and started the car. The radio came on. The wipers moved silently back and forth.
Spike slammed the Mustang into reverse. Arm over the back of the seat, looking through the back window . There was something suddenly there. He had a brief glimpse of an orc before the Mustang hit it. A meaty thud. The sound of rendered flesh and steal.
The Mustang bumped over it.
He jerked the shifter into drive and slammed his foot down on the pedal. The engine roared and the tires squealed
Something slammed down on top of the car and tumbled away.
~ * ~
The blue Mustang flew down the empty street through the rain. One of the bright red taillights was lifeless and broken. Colorless and dark. A few moments later the car had disappeared.
~ * ~
"They'll chase us," Spike said , looking over at Illyria across the front seat of the Mustang. "No matter how long it takes. No matter how far. They'll run us into the bloody ground."
"Yes," Illyria nodded. "But one by one and dozen by dozen we can defeat them. The Wolf, Ram and Hart have grown too powerful for even me in this small stifling form. But taken piecemeal their agents in this realm can be thwarted."
Illyria looked at him across the Mustang. Icy, inhuman eyes. Blood and gore clumped her blue and brown hair.
"Trust in me," she said coldly. "We will have our revenge."
Author's note: The Buffyverse is over for the moment. It sucks. Any questions?
Hopefully we'll have a Spike series soon, but until then we're stuck with our hopes.