Hold Fast

by
Tabaqui

22 Allies

Tell me - what you see.  Tell me - make me real, Spike - m-make me real.

I'll make you real...  I see you - demonslayer...builder... knight in patchwork armor... oohhh...You are... lover... brother... strong right arm... you are... s-sunlight... hearth fire... oh gods.

Spike arched and swayed over him, his eyes golden and glowing in the dim lemon light of the dawn.  His gaze never left Xander's.  Their hands were locked together, fingers entwined above Xander's head.   Lifting and sinking down, slow, slow climb to the peak - to the climax - and then he would still, and wait, kissing and whispering - remembering.

What are you doing to me, love, what...

"Knowing you.  Learning you."  loving, loving you...want every inch of you  

"Still do," Xander murmured, kissing Spike's face, the so-familiar planes of the demon; kissing his arms where they rested just above his shoulders.  Kissing his mouth and not caring if the fangs drew pin-pricks of blood.   "Still do, always will, love you - ahh - Spike...love you, love you..."

"My knight, my love...my always..."  Spike kissed back just the same, on every bit of skin he could reach, and Xander just wanted to crush him closer - feel every inch - never stop feeling it.  Two weeks since the spell and Spike still needed to remember, and Xander still needed to know he was there, and that all was well.

God, love you so fucking much...never want you not there, love, never want you gone from me...

Xander...Xander...always my own...   Always always always...

"Always, vampire-mine...  You make me - gods - you make me real, make me -"

"Make you mine," Spike whispered, and his fangs sank slowly into Xander's throat as his body sank slowly down, one more time.  Xander arched in blind, silent ecstasy,  his own teeth clamping down and the blood was cool spice darklife magic dancing over his tongue, making the link sing, making his body writhe and shudder for long ,long minutes.  The cool striping of Spike's semen across his chest made him shiver and Spike collapsed over him, burying his face in the crook of Xander's neck.  Slow trail of his tongue over the scar, hands still locked together and Xander's fingers rubbing over Spike's.

"Never get tired of this...of you..."   Xander whispered, and Spike kissed his way up to Xander's mouth and then kissed his mouth, slow and sweet and his heart on his lips like always.  Glorying in what they had - in how they'd gotten there.  Remembering because he could.

"...It's not just because of that.  Every time they do something like that - every hypocritical, petty thing - puts its mark on them.  They're staining themselves - making themselves less.  And for what?  So they can lord it over one vampire who can't hurt them.  It's - degrading, to both of you.  And I won't put up with it any more."

"My knight in patchwork armor..."

Xander had to smile at that memory, and how angry he'd been - how terrified of the Scoobies discovering their secret.  And how little he cared, any more, what anyone thought.  

Wouldn't give this up for anything in the world, he thought, and Spike eased himself up and off of Xander - settled into a tight clinch, sighing in contentment and letting the purr grumble rustily up out of his chest.  Who'd give up their own giant kitty-cat?   Xander giggled softly at the blast of mental denial from Spike.

M'growling.  Real soft. I keep telling you...  Vampires are not cats and we do not purr.

But you still look fabulous in a collar, Xander replied, and groaned softly as Spike's mental gears slipped and he sent a flood of highly erotic images, mostly starring Xander.

No better than you do, pet...  Wear it for me on patrol some time - wear it in the house...?

Christ -   Xander shifted and arched a little, his cock responding to that suggestion quite happily.  Wearin' me out, vampire-mine.

Love to, pet.  Have.  Will...  But Spike just settled a little closer and kissed his neck, soft and slow, and Xander knew that if anything was going to happen it was going to take a while.  Spike was in that sort of mood.  

Love that mood, he thought fondly, and Spike petted him through the link.  Oh, yeah...love it.

When they managed to make it out of bed sometime around three, Oz and Derio were still a tangled lump in their own bed, and the house was still and shuttered - quiet like it almost never was at that time of day.   The Bringers - the First - had been quiet too, and Buffy and Faith were both spoiling for a fight.  They trained the Potentials hard every day - took them on patrols in groups and Sunnydale hadn't ever been quite so demon-free. Of course, that was also because a lot of demons were leaving Sunnydale - and a lot of humans as well.  Something had finally gotten through the collective blind eye most of Sunnydale turned to things of a supernatural origin, and there were 'For Sale' and 'Going out of Business' signs all over the town.  It was kind of creepy, and it made them all a little edgy.

Giles and Ethan hadn't found anything new on the First either, and Tara reported no news from the L.A. gang in her nightly online chats with Fred.  That was a source of quiet amusement and hope for their pack - Tara seemed truly taken with Fred, and glowed with humor and good spirits after every talk.  They all hoped she'd found someone - a friend or a lover, they didn't care.  

"Wonder where everybody is?" Xander asked, shuffling into the kitchen with Spike attached, limpet-like, to his back, pale arms around his ribs and his mouth gently worrying the claim scar.

Don't care.  First got 'em, Spike thought, and he made no effort to dodge the half-hearted slap Xander aimed at his ass.

"Stop that."  Xander pulled open the 'fridge and peered inside.   "Mmm...leftover lasagna.  Want some?"

"Too much garlic, not enough pesto," Spike grumbled, finally letting go and moving over to the stove.  He shook the kettle and went to the sink to fill it, and fifteen minutes later they were both at the table, Xander scarfing lasagna and Spike drinking his doctored tea.   Sinclair and Miss Kitty were both sitting bolt upright on the floor between them, looking upwards expectantly at Xander.

"Don't even think it," Xander told them, mock-glaring.  "You're both getting spoiled rotten and I'm not sharing my food with you."  Spike snorted in amusement and pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket, lighting up with a sigh.  There was the slap of footsteps and Dawn appeared, four large books piled in her arms.  She squeaked in surprise and dropped the books on the table.

"Hey!  You guys are up!"  She went around behind Spike towards the 'fridge, patting him on the shoulder in passing and Xander smirked at the look on Spike's face, that was a mixture of annoyance and fondness.  

Startin' to act like I'm some kinda house pet, Spike grumped.  Need to take her out on patrol tonight, let her get a couple bruises - see a little action.

Put the fear of the Big Bad back into her?   Xander was trying not to grin around his mouthful of food and Spike shot him a narrow-eyed look.  Dawn messily scooped out lasagna onto a plate and shoved it in the microwave, licking her fingers.

Bit needs to be reminded that there's nasties out there - they're not all like her puppies upstairs Xander glanced over at Dawn, who was heating up her own plateful of food.  Then he deliberately remembered several instances of Spike helping Dawn - in particular, Spike helping her with her English - reading out loud to her, snuggled on the couch in Xander's flannel shirt.

'Cause you're not at all...fluffy or cute.

You're just BEGGIN' for a spanking... Spike thought, looking up at Xander through his lashes and Xander didn't believe it was possible but his cock stirred in his jeans.

"So - where is everybody, Dawn?" he asked, loftily ignoring Spike's molasses-dark, too-knowing chuckle.

"Oh!  Don't you know?  No, you guys were...uh...sleeping."  Dawn gave them an eye-roll and something too close to a knowing leer and Xander shot Spike an exasperated look.  Spike did his best to look innocent, but sitting there with a tea-cup and a half-empty bottle of whiskey, his cigarette smoke curling around his white-blonde, spiked head, he looked anything but.

"Johnathan called - that guy Andrew almost killed?  He was getting out of the hospital this morning and the ambulance brought somebody in.  A Potential."  Dawn got her plate out of the microwave and grabbed a soda - settled opposite Xander and Spike, pushing her stack of books aside.  "He said she was hurt pretty badly but she was talking and he heard her say to contact Buffy Summers."  Dawn stabbed at her lasagna, looking anxious.  She'd been visiting Johnathan in the hospital ever since he'd been hurt, and had gotten to like him quite a bit.  

"So - did the hospital call here?"  Xander finished the last of his own food and pushed his plate away, and Spike lit a second cigarette, making room for Sinclair on his lap.  The cat sniffed at Spike's tea and then started kneading, purring loudly enough to make the three of them smile.  Miss Kitty came around the table and fixed her gaze on Dawn, instead.

"No - the cell phones aren't listed and we had the old number turned off when we moved here.  He called and said he was going to stick around the hospital and - and see what happened.  She had to go into surgery - I don't know if she's out or not."  Dawn ate a forkful of lasagna and Spike looked over at Xander.

Guess the First isn't gonna be quiet forever, after all.

Guess not...   "So - is Buffy at the hospital?"

"Everybody is!  Well, not Faith - she went to talk to some guys she knows down at the docks - that's where they found her.   She took some of the girls with her.  And Giles and Ethan went to some bookstore up in Santa Barbara, they got a lead on something, they think."  Dawn gulped her soda - wiped her mouth on a paper towel.  "I think some of the girls were gonna - you know - ditch.  They wanted to get some down-time."

"Huh."  Spike crushed out his cigarette and scrubbed his fingers through Sinclair's fur, then stood up, putting the cat on the floor.  "As long as they keep their wits about 'em."   Goin' to find Glinda, he thought, and Xander nodded.

"I think I need some more lasagna," Xander said to nobody in particular and got up, heading for the fridge.  Good.  Don't - freak her out, okay?  It's probably nothing.

I wouldn't hurt her for the world, pet.  You know that.

I know that.   Xander grinned over at Spike, who grinned back and sauntered out.

The mansion was mostly dim - shutters and curtains almost permanently closed so Spike didn't have to dodge sunbeams.  Kennedy had made it a practice to leave key ones open, trying to trap him, but he'd ambushed her on patrol three nights ago and wore her out in the name of 'training', and she'd left off.  Spike smirked to himself.  She was fun to go after, mostly because she didn't seem to ever misplace her snotty 'I am Slayer, bow down' attitude.  He was enjoying punching a few holes in her façade.  He closed his eyes for a moment, orienting himself and then moved toward the back of the house, to the room they'd set up as a library.   Delivery trucks arrived almost daily with books from the old Watchers Headquarters - the Pembrokes were making great headway there, and their skills as archeologists were coming in more than handy when it came to rescuing half-torched books and other, less identifiable paraphernalia from the ruins.

He could feel Tara back there - had felt her more and more, since they'd come back.  Her growing finesse with magic and her growing confidence seemed to feed the subtle aura that surrounded her, and her essential 'pack-ness' made her easy to tune into.  Spike could feel warmth from her - joy - a rock-solid, root-deep serenity that was the core of the blonde witch.  Unshakeable and capable of carrying a load that seemed impossibly heavy.  Don't want you to labor under a burden though, Glinda.  Talk to me now...  

Since the spell - there was something else.  A hesitation in her, and a withdrawal.  Whenever Spike got too close he could feel a flinch, even if outwardly she didn't show a thing.  And it...hurt.   He had to know what was wrong.  Spike walked quietly into the library, where Tara was reading intently something on the laptop they'd bought.  The heroin money had been a godsend, since nobody had a job anymore, and Giles was still wading through red tape to get the greater part of the Council funds released to him.  The heroin itself was safely stashed away, a hedge against future need.  Something most of the household was ignorant of.

"Hey, Glinda," Spike said, and she turned to look at him, blinking in a dazed fashion for a moment, her mind obviously focused on what she'd been reading.  Then she saw him, and a hesitant smile crossed her lips.  But she -flinched.  Spike throttled down the anxiety he felt and dropped down cross-legged at her feet.

"Hey, S-Spike," she said softly.

"Glinda...  You have to tell me..."  Spike stopped and took a deep breath.  "Tell me what's the matter, pet?  You're - scared of me.  Why are you scared of me?"  Tara opened her mouth and then closed it - looked down at her hands that were twisting together in her lap.

"I - I'm n-not sca-scared of you, Spike -"

"Love, please - I can feel you - pulling back from me..."  Tara shot him a wet, wide-eyed look and then nodded, letting her hair fall forward to hide her face.

"It's - it's my problem, Spike.  I'm d-doing my be-best..."  Spike reached out slowly and touched her hand and she froze for a moment and then slid her fingers into his, squeezing tight.

"It's the memories, Spike.  They're - taking a l-long time to go away and...  And I've seen...so much...  So many th-things that hap-happened and..."

"Things I did, pet? Is that it?"  Spike waited for her reply, his stomach twisting into a painful knot.

"Yeah...."  Tara sighed, her shoulders slumping.  But then she sat up immediately, dashing her free hand across her face.  "It's stupid, Spike.  I know that - that you've changed.  I know - I remember - how you feel about Xander and - and Oz and D-derio.  About Dawn..."

"And you, too.  Don't forget you," Spike murmured, and Tara flashed a shaky smile at him.

"And me.  I don't want to - remember the past but sometimes it just..."  She trailed away, shaking her head helplessly, and Spike leaned slowly forward until his forehead was resting on her knee.

"Glinda - please don't...please don't pull away from me.  You're family, pet, you're - part of me.  Part of us.  I can't - can't lose you -"

"No!  No...shhhh...."  Tara's body was stiff with tension and then Spike felt her hand rest lightly on his bowed head - slowly and hesitantly stroke his hair.  "I won't leave you.  I promise.  What I've felt is s-so amazing...  I don't - understand it all.  Just - let me... I just need a little time, Spike.  Please?"  Her voice was thick with sorrow and Spike rubbed his head slowly back and forth on her skirt-draped knee.

"Please, Tara - please don't...  I would never, ever hurt you.  Never hurt the family.  You know that, right?  You know that?"  He looked up at her, feeling soft encouragement from Xander, and Tara smiled at him - a crooked and sad smile, but a smile.

"I know you wouldn't.  I know...  I'm working on it, Spike, I promise.  I'm - I've been t-talking to..."  She stopped, blushing, and Spike smiled a little.

"Talkin' to your sweetheart?" he said softly, and Tara's blush deepened, but she squeezed his hand a little tighter in hers.

"She's - Fred's not...  I mean, sh-she...  I've been talking to her about - all of this.  She...she has some good...ideas.  I'll work it out, Spike.  I really will.  I - I know what you are, inside."  She reached and touched his chest, and her fingers seemed to send a tiny sizzle of electricity through him - a tiny jolt of summer-scented lightning.  "I know what's in here - demon, and a soul.  And...you never had anybody care about the soul before.  Not until Xander.  It's - changed you."

"Can't help bein' changed when somebody loves you like that," Spike whispered, and Tara leaned forward and rested her cheek on his for a moment - kissed him fleetingly, smelling of mint and marjoram and dill - of magic.

"I know.  And you have.  In a lot of ways.  I promise...we're still f-family, Spike."

"All I needed to hear, love.  Couldn't let you go if I tried, you know?"   Spike reached and tucked her silky hair back behind her ear - let his fingers rest for a moment on the warm swell of her cheek.  The demon shifted inside, wanting more and better confirmation of family ours pack.  But Spike - couldn't appease it that way.

"You - do you be-believe me, Spike?" Tara asked, frowning just a little, and Spike snatched his hand back, knowing that he'd given something away in that touch.

"I - know you won't leave, Glinda.  It's the demon in me, is all.  It wants -"

"Something else."   Tara's eyes had a shuttered look to them, as if she was going deep inside herself for something, and Spike wanted to shake her - call her back.  Her fingers were tight in his, not letting him retreat.  "I - know..."  She looked at him, and suddenly her power was there - was all around him.  Warm and rich as mulled wine, complex as the branching pattern of veins on a leaf and as solid and simple as the taproot that anchors the tree.   Power that thrummed like a hive of bees, drowsy and somehow furry and lethal if stirred.

"Spike?  Will you...  Sh-show me it, Spike.  Show me the demon."   Her eyes were on his like searchlights - like suns.  Blinding him a bit, making him suck in a hard breath.  He knew Xander was coming, striding through the house, Dawn right behind.  He could feel Oz and Derio waking, agitated, and the change coming over them as they shook free of the bedding and bounded out of the room - down the stairs.  But Tara -compelled him.  Called the demon forth and he shivered, a growl coming up in his chest and shattering the thrumming air.  The demon rose - and pushed - wanting more, wanting to be out.  Heeding the call that was the witch's power and Spike let it have its will.  For once and all, let it have full rein.  He felt the shift in bone and muscle, his face rearranging to the demon's features.  But this time it happened all over and he knew his spine was sharper - more ridged.  Knew the joints of body were more angled, and his hands longer - his nails more like claws.  The demon manifesting itself as it never did.   It never had the need, but this time - it was Tara that called it.  Siren-song of love family please let me see mine ours yours.   He heard the stifled gasp from Dawn - the amazement and fascination from Xander.  Claws scrabbled on stone and the wolves were there, stalking stiff-legged up to them.

What's she doing?  Spike - you... from Oz, wonder and trust in the link, and:  Pack pack pack, from Derio, shivers of delight as Tara's aura surrounded them.   As Xander got closer - as Dawn did - Tara's power enfolded them as well and suddenly Dawn was in the link like she never had been before and fear surprise awe oh my god, my god, this is family, this is what it means!  Tara looked up at them - at Xander hovering over Spike's shoulder, his arm around Dawn.  At the wolves who'd book-ended themselves on either side of her, muzzles resting on her thighs.

"This is what it means," she said softly, and her hand went out again, to gently touch Spike's face - touch the demon.  And she deliberately pressed the pad of her thumb against one razor-sharp fang.  The merest drop of blood hit Spike's tongue and he felt his eyes fluttering closed - felt the growl becoming a groan as mother sister darklight she she she coursed through the link.  Tara's blood was sunlight and spring-water and the sour-sweet of sorrel.  Wild strawberries and silver and earth and the taste of it - the essence of it went out to all of them.  Dawn was panting softly, and Xander's hand had locked down on Spike's shoulder, hard enough to hurt.  The wolves lifted their muzzles, howling out an exultant song and the demon roared.  

Oh - god - she's so beautiful... Xander thought, and Spike could feel the tears on Xander's face as if they were his own.

"To me," Tara whispered, and her power withdrew, curling back on itself like an ocean wave, coiling and twisting and winding back down, through her and back to the earth and then they were sitting there, and Xander had gone down on his knees next to Spike, and Dawn was hugging Tara and the wolves were pressing close, whining.  The demon retreated, satisfied and purring with satisfaction.

Family pack ours mine always always always, in the link from all of them.    Family brother sister love, from Dawn and family faint and soft from Tara.   Spike laughed, hugging Xander hard.  Family, and she was right; he was changed.

"So what's the up, Buffy?  How's the girl?"  The living room was full of Potentials - all 23 of them - and Spike and Xander had retreated to the stairs in an effort to put some distance between themselves and the jangle of the Slayer-buzz.  It wasn't really working.  Oz and Derio were higher still on the stairs, just as tense.  It seemed to get worse when the Potentials were agitated, like they were now.  It was going on nine o'clock, and they'd all been waiting for Giles and Ethan to arrive so Buffy could tell them the news.  The waiting had been hard and everyone was on edge.  Johnathan sat on the edge of the big leather couch, still pale-looking and as nervous as the rest of them.

"Shannon - she..."  Buffy was standing in the middle of the room, and she looked...small.  There were circles under her eyes, and she was twisting a piece of paper in her hands, crumpling it and uncrumpling it.  "She's dead.  She was really hurt -"   There was a hiss of shock and fear from the Potentials - Buffy apparently hadn't told them anything.  Faith, her arms tightly crossed over her chest, looked up sharply.  

"Everybody shut up.  This is important," she said, and her voice was sharp as a knife.  Buffy looked over at her and Faith nodded once, biting her lip.

Fuck.  Dead?  Something new or part of the First?  Christ, what next?   Xander felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.  Spike reached out and put his hand on Xander's knee, rubbing gently.

We'll figure it out, love.  We'll fix it.  You'll see.

"She - was killed by a man who calls himself Caleb.  She was running from Bringers, and he picked her up...  Than he told her - that he had a message for - for me."  Buffy was pacing in little circles now and she pushed her hand back through her hair, grimacing.  "He told her - he has something of mine.  We don't know what he has - if he really has anything.  But - we're gonna find out who this guy is, and what he wants.  We're gonna get whatever he has and he's gonna pay for killing one of ours."  Buffy stared out over the crowd of girls - looked at Dawn, who was sitting close to Tara, and looked at Giles and Ethan, who looked back, grim-faced.  Buffy looked exhausted and Xander wondered if she was sleeping.  She never seemed to, and the bones of her face seemed to be pushing up too close to her skin, making her skull stand out too clearly.

She's burning herself out.  Got to get her to rest...

Good luck with that, Spike thought, lighting up and holding the cigarette away, out of Xander's face.  He was right - Buffy seemed to be wound tighter with each passing day and the lull in First activity hadn't made much difference.  

"Johnathan - is going to help us.  He said that - the girl had a mark burned into her neck.  Caleb - did it.  So he's going to help us find the mark and maybe - find this guy.  So - everybody help him out."  Buffy walked over to Giles and handed him the crumpled paper, and he smoothed it out, looking it over.  "She said he was dressed like a - priest. Black suit and collar.  So - be on the lookout, okay?"  Buffy looked around at them all and the silence seemed to oppress her - the weight of their gaze seemed to be too much.  "He just stabbed her, and pushed her out of his truck.  So - be careful.  Once we find out who he is - he's gonna be history."  A couple of the Potentials raised a cheer at that, and then they all did, whooping loudly.  Xander felt Oz's knee in his back, and Derio's hand was on Spike's shoulder, and they didn't join in the cheer.  The First - had a new ally.

23 Sacrifices

"So you're, what, just gonna walk around, hoping a Bringer'll just...show up?"  Faith was looking skeptically at Buffy and Buffy was frowning back, arms crossed and feet planted wide.  Her 'I am Slayer' stance.  But Faith had the same stance and Xander had to stifle the urge to laugh as they squared off.  Faith was the one person Buffy couldn't hold Slayer-status over.

"I figure if this Caleb really wants me - us - to find him, he'll send one of the little creeps around.  And Giles' spell..."   Buffy looked over at Giles, who nodded, sighing.

"Yes.  The spell," he replied, in a tone of long suffering.  Ethan, who was reading something and making rapid, scribbling notes, glanced up at them, his fox's smile quick and toothy.  He approved of the truth spell - had, in fact, practiced it on several people in the house until Giles had had a not-so-quiet word with him.  The household now knew that Kennedy had a crush on Tara, Dawn and Johnathan had held hands under the dinner table for three nights running, Buffy had called Robin Wood to bring him up to speed and had agreed to go on a date with him, and exactly what Spike liked about sex with Xander.  Nothing Spike wouldn't have volunteered - as he'd made perfectly clear on several other occasions - but Ethan had wanted to see if the spell worked on the undead.  'We don't know what the Bringers ARE, really.  Have to be prepared,' he'd said, laughing, as the mostly-horrified Potentials, Giles, and Anya had listened to Spike's recitation.  Xander was pretty sure Anya had taken notes.

"Yeah, spell," Spike mumbled, face-down on the leather couch, the smirk evident in his tone, his body utterly slack, his t-shirt rucked up around his neck.  Xander was straddling his thighs, running knuckles, fingertips, palms and the occasional elbow up and down Spike's back.  Everyone else was clustered on the floor or the other couch, trying to plan some sort of strategy.   Dawn, Johnathan, Drake and Anya had taken the Potentials shopping, as training and work-outs and the odd surge of Slayer strength were hell on their limited clothing resources.  Actually, the possibility that most of the stores in Sunnydale were closed or closing meant that they were either an hour up the highway in Oxnard, or they were stealing clothes.   They'd all gotten remarkably...casual about things like that as Sunnydale had emptied.  Even the school was closed now, and Robin Wood had taken to patrolling with them occasionally.  He seemed to be - oddly interested in Spike.  It gave Xander the creeps.

"So we'll go in teams?  Hit the cemeteries?" Oz was sparring with Miss Kitty, flipping her on her back and poking at her belly so she'd rabbit-kick his hand.  Sinclair was watching, tail-tip barely moving as Miss Kitty writhed away and then pounced again, biting lightly, her claws just barely scoring Oz's palm.

"That's the plan.  Me and Faith, you and Derio, Xander and the amazing boneless vampire."  Buffy grinned at him, and Xander grinned back.  Spike made a half-hearted effort to flip her off but he could barely lift his arm.

"You try bein' all stick-up-your-arse when these fingers are working their magic on you, Slayer.  Actually, a little something up the -"

"Stop that, evil undead," Xander admonished, grinding his elbow in and Spike groaned and somehow sagged even further, practically a puddle on the couch.  He'd fought a wayward Fyarl demon the night before; had, in fact, beat it to death with a length of pipe.  He'd been in a bad mood - Kennedy's fault - and Xander had been initiating cheer-up-the-grumpy-vampire sex over a tomb when they'd been interrupted.  The Fyarl had gotten in a few good hits because Spike had been too pissed to duck.  So Xander was working out the kinks in muscles that... well, that weren't sore at all.  It was just fun.

"Okay - and if we do come across one of them - what then?"  Derio sat up from his sprawled position beside Oz, dreads tinkling faintly.  Buffy looked a little uncertain.

"Well - we need one alive so Giles and Ethan can do the spell, so...  I guess do your best not to fold, spindle or mutilate.

"Right," Oz said, and pushed Miss Kitty into Sinclair, who immediately grabbed her around the throat with his paws and tried to bowl her over.  Miss Kitty fled, Sinclair in hot pursuit.

"Just - please be c-careful," Tara said, breaking a long silence.  She looked up at the group, a small frown on her face.  "I just feel like...you need to be careful."

"Do our best, pet," Spike said, propping his head up to smile at her, and she nodded.  Faith pushed away from the wall she'd been leaning against and bumped Buffy with her shoulder.

"Let's get this party started, B.  I'm itchin' to deal out a little payback."

"No folding, spindling or mutilating!  Just - bruising and contusions."  Buffy snagged an extra stake and they both strode out, bickering light-heartedly.

"Yup, better plow," Oz said.  He stretched hard, arching up and back, hands over his head, and Derio ran an appreciative and possessive hand up his ribs.  Oz folded, snorting, and rolled over onto Derio.  They scuffled, half-changing and growling and Tara laughed.

"You two are j-ust like Miss Kitty and Sinclair."

Only not as pretty," Spike muttered, and yelped when Oz pounced on him, knocking Xander back.

"Hey!"  Xander scrambled to grab Oz and Derio tackled him, rolling them both to the floor with a thump, wolf's-eyes and claws, growling happily.

"Children, really -" Giles started, but there was laughter in his voice and Ethan just hugged him around the neck, kissing his cheek and whispering something that made the Watcher blush.  Spike pinned Oz and lightly bit his neck - jumped to his feet, energized.

Up and out!  Let's find this bastard and get it DONE.

Yeah - tired of this waiting and wondering crap. Xander crawled to his feet, hauling Derio with him and letting himself be mauled.  Derio snuffled into his neck and then kissed his cheek and bounced over to Oz.   Spike was shrugging on his duster, feeling over the pockets for cigarettes, lighter, flask, weapons.

Pack will win.  Pack!  Derio'd gained some control in the link and he felt much better about that - didn't feel as if he were overwhelming them all with his emotions all the time.  It made him - bouncy.

Yes we will, Xander thought, and tucked his arm into Spike's and they went out to find a Bringer.

Spike's cell chirped in his pocket and he yanked it out, glaring at it.  Xander had forgotten to charge his.  "Bloody thing," he muttered, stabbing the 'on' button.  "What!"

"We got one!"  Buffy yelled over the line, and Spike flinched.

"Keep it down, Slayer.  All right - we'll head home.  Reckon we've got some news, too."

"Great!  Whoops!  Grab his leg!"  The phone beeped several times as Buffy apparently hit the keypad, and then went dead.   Spike snapped his own phone shut and looked at the derelict winery one more time.  The Bringers were swarming it like bees to a hive, and he and Xander were sure there was something of interest there - maybe even this Caleb himself.  But there were too many, and it was hard to tell the layout of the building in the darkness.  Better, as Xander had said, to come back in the day and scout it - maybe send Oz and Derio in wolf form.  

Beside him Xander was muttering under his breath, the soldier making an increasingly more rare appearance to count visible enemy troops and memorize all kinds of details.  Xander had said that for the last few months the soldier was shifting - becoming more a part of him, less a separate entity.  Merging memories until Xander wasn't sure what was 'him' and what was the soldier, anymore.  The hyena stayed stubbornly separate, much like Spike's demon.

Slayer's got a Bringer.  Guess we'd better head home.

Yeah - can't learn much more here, anyway.  Oz?  Heading home.

Home, pack, faintly from Oz, who was across town.   One last look at the winery and they were trotting towards the mansion, rhythmic huff of Xander's breath, the link just a warm hum in the back of his mind.  

The mansion was blazing with lights as they came down the stairs and crossed the small courtyard, seeing through the double doors the Potentials milling around the living room.  The Bringer was roped to a chair in the center of the room, hunched and small-looking in its black clothes, its disfigured face downcast.   Giles looked up from a sheaf of paper as they walked in.

"Ah - there you are.  We're ready to start."  Giles gathered up a book and looked around, clearing his throat in his best Old Librarian manner.  "Everyone?  Everyone sit down and - and be quiet, please."  The Potentials slowly sorted themselves into ranks on the floor and Spike and Xander joined Oz, Derio and Tara on the steps.  Dawn was sitting beside Johnathan on the couch, almost but not quite holding hands.  Anya and Drake were cuddling on the other couch and Buffy and Faith were flanking the Bringer.  Ethan dropped a match into a bowl, sending the contents up in a quiet whoosh of greenish flame.  Giles read aloud, a short incantation in what sounded like Turkish, although Spike couldn't be sure.

What's that, then?  Not the truth spell.

Something else, Oz replied.   The Bringer's mute - no tongue.  That's supposed to make it able to talk.  

"Tell us - what are you doing here?" Giles said, and the Bringer swayed, blind face turning from side to side in slow negation.

"We follow our father - we serve that which came before all others," someone said, and Dawn squeaked and jumped, leaning away from Johnathan.  He was staring blankly at the Bringer.

"Johnathan?"
               
"It's all right, Dawn - it's the spell," Giles said softly, and Dawn nodded, wide-eyed.

"But what do you do?  What is your specific task?" Giles asked, and the Bringer shuddered briefly, as if fighting the truth spell.

"We are ants - beneath the surface - we build an arsenal, and we protect that which must be protected.  We are everywhere - we are legion..."

"An arsenal - beneath the surface..."  Giles pondered, rubbing his forehead, and they all waited, little hissing ripples of whispered talk flowing out from the Potentials.  Buffy put her hand on the Bringer's throat and squeezed, just a little.  The Bringer thrashed, straining against the ropes.

"What does Caleb have of mine - is it another girl?  What?"  Johnathan twitched, his fingers clawing at his knees.

"Hurting us, hurting us!"

"Buffy - please -"   Giles motioned with his hand and Buffy reluctantly let go.

"The father has that which must be protected.  We build and we tunnel and we kill, kill, kill the girls - end the Slayers, end the line, end the light!"  The Bringer made a sort of strangled, rasping noise - laughter - and Faith backhanded it.  Johnathan jerked, then sagged a little.

"Maybe it can't say -" Kennedy said, and Giles interrupted.

"The truth spell should overcome that.  Perhaps - perhaps they don't know what they're protecting."  He walked up close to the Bringer and leaned in - put a hard hand on its shoulder, squeezing.  "Describe what you protect."  The Bringer writhed, mouth opening and closing, a rasping sort of gasp coming out of its mouth.  It wrenched at the rope that bound it to the chair.  "Tell me," Giles barked, darkman rippling out over them, and the Bringer shrieked, a strangled, tea-kettle sort of noise.

"Light!  The light, the light - all power, all souls, for all time - they made it, we hide it - hide it!"  Johnathan's voice was shockingly loud and panicked.   The Bringer shook its head violently, jerking in the ropes, and Johnathan was shuddering, curling down in on himself.

"Giles, is it hurting him?  Johnathan?"  Dawn hovered, her hand on Johnathan's shoulder, and Ethan leaned over the back of the couch, stroking a light hand down the boy's back.

"He's all right, Dawn.  He's only talking for him."  Johnathan sat up abruptly, his lips curled back in a snarl.

"We are everywhere and we take you down - chew your bones - hollow you out!  We will cut your throats and suck your marrow and drink from your skulls!  The Slayer-line is finished and the father will bless us - that which came before will bless us -!" There was a choked gurgle and a snap and Faith stepped back from the Bringer.  Its head lolled, unnatural angle, and Johnathan took in a sharp, gasping breath, his hands flying to his neck.

"My - my - god, that was - that - my god -"   He looked dazedly around at them and Dawn rubbed his shoulder, consoling him.  The Potentials were whispering louder now, darting frightened looks at the dead Bringer - at Johnathan - and Spike could smell fear and despair and anger all moiling up from the crowd on the floor.

Nice show by little Miss Penitentiary but it's not gonna be pretty in here, in a minute.  Wanna break in with our news, divert them?

Good idea.  Fuck - what in hell could they have?  What did it mean - 'they made it, we hide it'?  Spike shook his head slowly,   tapping a cigarette out of his pack and lighting it.

"Dunno, pet.  We'll see what Glinda and the Watcher make of all that mess."  Behind him on the steps Tara stirred and he and Xander both glanced back at her.

"I don't think I make - anything of it.  At least - n-not yet."  Uncertainty came from her, echoed ever so faintly in the link with a question question question feeling, and Oz bumped her shoulder a little, smiling.

"You'll figure it out, Tara - you guys are smart."  Tara ducked her head but smiled back, and Spike turned to watch Faith and Buffy drag the Bringer - chair and all - out of the room to the back garden and the cistern.

'Nother fire tonight, I guess, he thought, and Xander sighed and stood up.

I could do without the odor of charred flesh again, you know?  Maybe we can just bury it.  Xander went to the bottom of the stairs and waited until Buffy and Faith came back in, wiping their hands on their thighs, wearing matching looks of disgust.

"Hey guys - when we were out, we followed some Bringers - they went to this old winery out east of town.  There were a lot of them there - more than me and Spike wanted to take on."  All eyes were on Xander now, and Spike felt currents shifting again, curiosity and a lessening of fear in the air.

"Did you see this - Caleb?" Giles asked, and Xander shook his head.

"No - we just looked it over from the outside.  They were coming and going - really busy.  We figure we can go look again in the daytime - see what the building is like.  I'd bet anything that's where he's camped out."

"We should go check it out now," Buffy said suddenly, a look of determination crossing her face.   "Strike while the - the iron is all - irony!  Or whatever."  Spike snorted laughter and Buffy shot him a sour look.  "Don't start, Spike.  You know what I mean.  The advantage of surprise."

"Not much surprise, if you ask me, since he's all but sent an engraved invitation.  Now's not the time, Slayer."  Spike leaned back, dragging on his smoke and Buffy's expression darkened.

"Exactly!  He's - he's teasing us!  Dangling himself out there - he probably expects us to be scared and unorganized!  So if we go in now - hit him hard - he won't know what happened!"

"I think -"  Giles stood slowly from where he'd been sitting on the couch, glasses in his hand and thumb rubbing over and over his forehead.  "I think Spike is right, Buffy.  It's - too soon.  We should know more about the winery - about what it is he's hiding.  Running in unprepared will only put us at a disadvantage.  And I don't think -"   Giles stopped and looked around the room at the Potentials - just little girls, really, Spike thought, seeing that look on the Watcher's face - that look of weariness and the desire for no more death - no more pain.

"I don't think we should risk - anyone."

"I'm not saying we just tear over there - I'm saying we get a plan, get our weapons - but go, tonight!"  Buffy looked hurt that Giles hadn't backed her.

She's always lookin' for the easy way.  Not her neck that's gonna get cracked if she sends all these children in there.

Didn't know you cared, Derio said, sly sideways glance at Spike and Spike huffed out smoke.

DON'T care, but the more of them between me and mine the better.  I want to END this - I don't want half our - army, or whatever you wanna call it, on their bloody backs because she can't keep her stake in her pants!  We're doin' this right -gonna burn 'em to the ground and sow with salt.   Spike felt the demon surging up and he let it go - let it come out, snarling a little.  Family - pack - that's the first and ONLY thing I care about.

Love you...pack pack pack, back from Derio, a contrite tone in the link and Spike turned and reached up the scant inches between them - took Derio's ankle in his hand and rubbed the bone with his thumb, looking at the boy.

"Love you too, hermano.   Anything for you - all of you...  Don't doubt me."

"I don't," Derio whispered.  Oz leaned into Derio from the other side and Spike felt Xander climbing back up the few stairs he'd gone down, settling back down and touching - completing the circuit.  Tara - above them on the stairs - suddenly reached out and put a hand lightly on Oz's shoulder, and Derio's, and the circuit jumped.  They all shivered, lost in the feeling for a long moment until a sharp exclamation from Buffy made them all turn and look.

"Are you guys even listening?  This is important!"

"We know it is, Buffy," Xander said, and tired, tired, tired from him, heartsick and so weary of the fight that Spike wanted to snatch him up and take him out of there - go far away and never come back.

Won't have a world to be in, if we can't stop this, Xander thought softly, and Spike shook the demon away and lit another cigarette, knowing Xander was right but not caring - just raging at the hurt he could feel from his love.

"Giles is right, and Spike is too, Buff - we really can't go in there tonight.  You didn't see - how many there were.  We need to do a recon in the daytime - see what kind of defenses they can mount, if the building is solid - lots of things.  Can't just -"

"Don't tell me can't, Xander.  I'm so sick of - standing here!  Sick of just reacting.  We need to act!"

"You're right, we do!  But not like this.  Not without knowing more."  Xander crossed his arms over his chest and stood there - solid as the wood he shaped.  Buffy looked as if she were on the verge of tears, maybe, but suddenly she just slumped - turned around and ran her hands through her hair.  The Potentials were all frozen in place, staring wide-eyed, looking like they were scared to move.  Dawn and Johnathan and Faith had gone into the kitchen with Ethan - he could hear tea and maybe hot chocolate being prepared - and Anya and Drake were just holding each other, close as they could get.  Giles had slumped back down on the couch and now he looked up at Buffy again.

"We do need to act - and we will.  But not - in haste.  Not without more knowledge."

"I'm so tired of being on the defensive," Buffy said softly, her back still turned.  "I'm so sick of - running scared.  Please find something, Giles - find something and tell me because I don't -"  Buffy stopped and shook her head - walked slowly out of the room, out into the courtyard, aimless and hopeless.  Giles looked as if he might get up and follow her, but they all clearly heard the tone of her cellphone, and then her voice, saying "Robin?  I'm sorry I woke you -"  

"I think - I'll have some tea, and go to bed.  Girls - time to go up, now.  We'll work out a patrol for tomorrow - a reconnaissance of the winery.  All right?  Good night," he added, not waiting for questions.  The Potentials gathered themselves up slowly, talking, looking alternately spooked or angry or determined. Anya and Drake got up as well, talking softly, sketching a wave to them up on the stairs and going kitchen-ward to say their goodnights.  Spike scooted over close to Xander to clear a path as the girls filed by, saying muted goodnights to Tara and Oz and Derio - avoiding the vampire altogether and Xander by proxy.  Only Kennedy stopped and stared at him for a moment - flicked her glance over Xander and shook her head.

"Fuck off to bed now," Spike growled, and she flinched and headed up, two steps at a time.     Beside him, Xander yawned, stretching a little and then leaning heavily against Spike, burrowing his head a little into Spike's neck.

"Let's go to bed, huh?" Xander whispered.   "Let's go to bed and worry about all this tomorrow.  Just wanna..."  Spike hissed in pleasure as Xander's fingers burrowed under his shirt and scratched lightly over his belly.

"You're the smart one, pet.  Bed it is."

The daylight patrol hadn't told them too much more than they already knew.  The building was old but not decrepit - it wasn't falling down or missing parts of the walls, and Xander had the feeling that Caleb could barricade himself inside for as long as he liked.  And he was in there, this not-man of god.  They'd seen him once or twice, inspecting some project the Bringers were working on - strolling slowly along an avenue of overgrown grapevine, spurning the half-rotted fruit that littered the weedy aisle.   And after waiting for two days, Buffy didn't want to wait any more.

"We'll never know any more than we already do, Giles," she'd argued, and Giles had finally given in.  At sunset, then, they were going to go in.   Faith was drilling a dozen or more girls in the courtyard, and Johnathan and Dawn were sharpening swords and axes.  Tara had decided to do a spell - a sort of 'locator' spell.  She had a hair from each girl, wrapped in a twist of paper.  She was making an oil to put on the paper and the girls, so that if they went in, and someone got hurt, or lost, they could be found.  The paper would glow until its owner touched it, and it could be used as a divining rod or a calling charm, Tara said, if someone was trapped and unable to get free.  She'd gone to the now-closed Magic Box to get a last few essential herbs to add to the oil that was steeping on the stove downstairs.   She'd taken a 'guard' of five Potentials and Ethan with her.   Buffy was in consultation with Giles in the library, studying the sketches of the winery Xander had made and plotting what she would do.

Xander turned over in the bed, stroking his hand down Spike's back, watching and not watching Oz and Derio curled together across the room, talking softly between slow kisses.  The link was soothingly thick with love happy mine yours, and Spike arched into his touch and tilted his head a little, so Xander could kiss him.  Which he did, quite happily.  Until there was a squeal of tires outside, and a voice shouting - shouting about Tara, Bringers, took her! and Xander hadn't ever gotten a pair of jeans on that fast.  The four of them tore out of the room and down the stairs, to see Tara's 'guard' - disheveled and bloody - standing in a growing circle of shouting, hysterical people.

"Shut it!" Spike bellowed, and the Potentials fell back, leaving the five standing, huddled.  Dawn was staggering in with their big First Aid kit, and Buffy and Giles also appeared at the run.

"What happened?  Where's Tara and Ethan?" Xander demanded, and Amanda stepped forward, blood smeared under her nose and a set of bad scrapes all down her arm, showing under the torn sleeve of her shirt.

'"It's - they - it was the Bringers!  They were there - at the shop.  They - did some sort of - of spell.  We couldn't see!  They grabbed - Tara and Mr. Rayne."  There was a muffled exclamation from Giles, and Xander glanced at him, the ripple of darkman demonkiller crackling over him like static electricity.

"Where were they taking them?"  Oz asked, his voice urgent, and Amanda swallowed and flinched a little as Dawn tried to get at her arm.  Johnathan was holding a pad of gauze to Rona's bleeding forehead.

"We - we chased them.  When the spell wore off.  We - killed wa-one.  They looked like they were going to that school?  The high school?"

"Fuck," furious and vehement from Spike and Xander felt a chill go over him.  The Potentials were milling, whispering, and someone ran upstairs.

"What the hell -"   Why the school?  Why not the winery? Xander thought, and then horrible suspicion blossomed, confirmed by Giles a moment later.

"Johnathan -" Giles snapped, and the boy jerked around to face the Watcher.  "Why was Andrew trying to kill you at the Hellmouth - what was he trying to do?"  Johnathan paled - swallowed - then handed the gauze off to a Potential and stepped closer to Giles.

"He - he said something about opening the gate.  About - calling the old ones?  The - Tur...  Tur..han...something...."

"Turok-Han?" Spike asked, and Giles turned to face him.

"Those are a myth - aren't they?"

Spike shrugged, doing that thing with his hands that meant he was looking for his cigarettes.  "Angelus mentioned them once - something the Master used to rave about.  They're - different."

"They're your race's...precursors, actually, if memory serves.  The Neanderthal of vampires.  Strong, fast - animalistic.   I wonder if that is the army the First is preparing for..."  Giles' expression began to go blank as he turned inward, searching his memory, and Xander clapped his hands sharply together.

"Focus, people!  We need to go and get them back!  We need -"

"Clothes - here -"   Vi and the Australian Potential - Donna - were shoving boots, shirts, and Spike's duster at the four of them and Xander couldn't help but grin.  

"Thanks, girls."  They pulled on their clothes while Buffy grabbed weapons, talking rapidly to Faith.

"This might be a trick - the First might be sending more Bringers here - anything.   Just - stay alert.  We're counting on you to protect the house."  Faith nodded, hefting an axe.

"Yeah.  Don't worry, B, I got your back.  We'll be fine."

"Giles - you better - you better stay here.  The wards -"   The wards were a permanent fixture now, but they would need to be bolstered if the Bringers or anything else started flinging themselves against them.  Giles looked agonized but he nodded sharply.

"Yes, I...  Just find him, please," he said softly, and Buffy touched his shoulder, nodding.  

"Everybody in the van - bloody bastards would pick the middle of the bloody day -"   Spike yanked his duster on and Oz took off at a run, heading for the back door and the keys that hung there.  The rest of them followed, silent and grim.  

She'll be okay, she'll be okay... Xander thought, and squeezed Spike's hand hard when it slipped into his.

This fuckin' basement is starting to piss me off.  Maybe you need to blow it up again,   Spike thought, and Xander snorted in agreement.

I think you're right.  Maybe that'd fix the First.    The school at just after noon was eerily deserted, with trash and graffiti marring the halls.  

God - Sunnydale really is shutting down...   It gave Xander the creeps.  As they ran, they could feel the energy of the Hellmouth shuddering and pulsing like a live thing, and the dreadful certainty that they were too late, oh fuck, too late crashed through them all.  As they leaped down the steps, Buffy in the lead, blood-scent slammed into them, making Derio and Oz shift halfway to the wolf, making the demon rise, snarling, in Spike.  The hyena rose as well because it was Tara's blood thick on the air - Tara's pain and terror and Buffy almost tripped in startlement at the chorus of howls that were torn out of them.

No, no, no!  God damnit, god DAMNIT we are not too late - Tara, fuck -hold on! They burst into the room that held the Hellmouth and for a moment Xander was too confused to really sort the images that were assaulting him; images that jumped and wavered in the flickering light of several torches.  Then it all became clear and he was launching himself across the room at a knot of Bringers and a scaffold of wood and iron and rope - a great wheel, where Tara hung naked and bleeding.  

The Bringers crumpled under them, falling like flies, and Oz was climbing the wheel, claws scrabbling and scoring the wood, tearing at the rope with his teeth.  

"Guys!  Help me!"  It was Buffy, in the shadows at the far side of the room and suddenly she flew backwards, crashing into a wall and crumpling down.  Something pounced after her - a wizened, grey-skinned creature - a hideous caricature of a vampire, and Xander felt his blood run cold.   The creature had fresh blood on its mouth.

Jesus.  Is that it?

Turok-han.  Fucker's ugly.  Let's put it out of its misery.   Spike launched himself, growling, and Derio hit the creature from the other side at the same moment, full wolf now.  Oz was cradling Tara, severing the last of the rope and lowering her gently, gently to the ground.

Oz?  She okay?

Passed out - fuck, they cut her - she's all right, I've got her!  Xander nodded and whirled back around, watching Derio latch onto the Turok-han's stringy calf and shake his head viciously, a ham-stringing maneuver that seemed to be working.  Spike was hacking with the small axe he'd brought; blows that were driving the other vampire back but weren't doing the damage Xander expected.  He readied his own weapon - a long, wide-bladed knife - and waded in.  Buffy joined them a minute later, her eyes snapping with anger, the torn sleeve of her coat flapping down around her elbow.

"This bastard's gonna pay for that - this is the only nice coat I have left!"  Buffy swung her own axe, crashing it into the Turok-han's head, and it reeled and growled, clawing Derio's flank open, sending Spike flying with a hard kick and snapping Xander's knife off at the hilt.

Fuck!  Too strong - what are we gonna do?

Take the fucker's head off!   Spike staggered upright and darted over to the wheel - snatched up a length of rope.  He made a loop and ran back to the fight.

Derio - distract it for a sec, grab its leg again! Spike directed.  Derio leaped and fastened his mouth on the torn flesh below the other vampire's knee and the Turok-han howled, sinking its clawed fingers into Derio's ribs.   The howl of pain that went up made them all cringe, and then Spike was looping the rope around the creature's throat, dodging a kick.

"Slayer!  Grab on!" he shouted, tossing the rope-end to Buffy.  She caught it, winding it around her fist, and Xander grabbed up Spike's axe and chopped hard, sinking the blade into the Turok-han's chest.  It howled, wrenching at the axe, and then -"Pull!" from Spike and he and Buffy leaned backwards, pulling with all their might.  The rope tightened - sank into the stringy, grey neck - and the Turok-han scrabbled at it, tearing its own flesh.  The rope tightened further and then disappeared and suddenly there was nothing - there was a collapsing cloud of dark ash and the rope snapped out straight between Spike and Buffy.

"Fuck!"  Xander leaned on the axe for a moment, panting, then jerked around at a moan coming from the shadows.  "Ethan?" he hurried over, peering into the darkness and almost stumbling over the mage who was lying in the dirt, arms and ankles tied.  "Jesus, you okay?"

"For almost - almost being an appetizer, I'm - all right," Ethan said weakly.  Xander hauled him upright, wincing at the bloody wound on his neck where the Turok-han had apparently started to feed.  He worked quickly, undoing the ropes and getting Ethan to his feet, and they both made their way back to the Hellmouth seal, and the wheel.  Derio was whimpering, licking tentatively at jagged wounds down his ribs and back.  Buffy was standing helplessly, looking as if she wanted to help him but wasn't sure how.  Spike was on his knees next to Oz, gingerly wrapping his duster around Tara's limp form.

Tara - god - is she all right?  What did they -

"She's - been cut.  They carved - marks - into her..."  Oz snarled, his eyes flashing to black and back, and Xander saw the marks etched into her chest and stomach - runes that were still bleeding sluggishly.

"God.   Oh my god -"   Buffy was pale, staring at Tara, and then Spike fastened up the front of the coat and gently, gently lifted her.

"Let's get her the fuck out of here.  You able to walk, mage?"  Ethan passed a shaky hand over his face and nodded, jaw's clamped tight.  They went out and up, settling Tara gently into the van that Oz had parked right against the doors, so Spike wouldn't have to run through any sunlight.  The ride home was silent, and Xander cradled Tara's head on his knee, stroking her tangled hair back out of her face, his fingers trembling.   Spike was close beside him, holding Tara's hand and leaning into Xander's shoulder.  The smell of blood was thick in the air - blood from all of them - and the link was a tangle of emotions; fear, pain, despair - fury and guilt.  It built around them, spiraling upwards until Oz broke it, humming the wolf-chant out loud and forcing it into the link, overriding everything else.  Ethan, in the passenger seat, closed his eyes, humming scratchily along.  Buffy sat on the van floor, Derio's head in her lap, carefully stroking the bloodied muzzle and ruff of fur around his shoulders.

"That's nice, Oz, that's...really nice," she said softly, closing her eyes, and Xander noticed the huge bruise and scrape that was down her jaw and neck for the first time.

"You okay, Buffy?" he asked, and she opened her eyes for a moment and looked at him.

"I'm...fine.  That - Turok-whatever, it was really strong.  If the First has an army of those..."

"Have to get to the Hellmouth to get 'em out, though," Spike murmured, eyes closed.   "What we need is some C-4 and Sergeant Rock, here; bring the bloody house down once and for all."

"Oh - I like that.  Fire pretty..."  Buffy grinned crookedly at Xander and gingerly touched her jaw, then settled back with a sigh, closing her eyes again.   From his seat Ethan made a small sound, weak chuckle, and Oz reached over blindly and patted his thigh.  They were all quiet after that, letting the soft words of the chant wash over them and through them, lulling them until they could be safe at home.

24 Losing

A wave of Potentials spilled from the side door of the mansion as they pulled up, and Oz eased into the converted carriage house, not even getting the engine turned off before the doors were being opened.  Amanda and Rona were first in line, tear-streaked and anxious, with the other three of the 'guard' right behind them.

"Is she okay?  Please, is she - oh god!"  Rona reeled back, covering her mouth with her hand as Spike gently lifted Tara and the duster opened a little, showing a bloodied shoulder.  Tara's face was pale as paper, streaked with blood and dirt.  Ethan crawled weakly out of the van and stumbled straight into Giles' arms, his skin colored a sickly greenish-grey.  

"Ethan!  What - how is Tara?  What happened?" Giles asked anxiously, slinging his arm around Ethan and all but lifting the slighter man into his arms.

"Ethan got attacked - one of those Turok-Han bit him.  He needs some juice or something, Giles.  Tara's..."  Xander didn't know what to say about Tara, and he followed Spike towards the connecting door that led to the house proper, wishing he could help.

"S-spike, wait!"  Ethan was holding out his hand and Spike turned toward him, snarling.

"She needs help, mage -"  

"I know!  I know."  Ethan urged Giles forward until they were closer to Spike and Tara.   "She's - it's the earth that helps her.  She needs to be in the garden.  She needs to touch the earth."

Fucking hell!  Damnit, Xan - you think?

He's probably right, he and Giles know more about that -

"Giles, is that -?"  Xander turned anxiously to Giles, putting out a hand to touch Ethan's shoulder, apology for doubting him.

"Yes, he's right Xander.  If she's hurt, there is a spell - healing from the Earth.  That's - where her power originates."

Take her - take her, love, hurry, Spike thought, and Xander carefully accepted the limp form of the lightwitch mother pack pack pack, wincing when he saw the deep cuts in the shadowy area below the duster's lapel.  Derio limped up to them, whining softly, and Oz knelt down next to him, hugging him around the neck and stroking his fur.

We'll be there, take her.  Have to clean these...   Xander knew what Oz meant - he had to change, and help Derio clean the gashes left by the Turok-han.    Just like their mundane counterparts, the wolves would lick the injuries clean, and their magic would speed the healing faster than any antiseptic.

Derio...god -

I'm all right. Go on, we'll be right there.   Xander nodded and strode away, going through the house rather than around, heading for the garden.   Spike crouched down next to Derio as well, anger and frustration in the link because he couldn't follow Xander out into the sunlight.  

Pack...oh Glinda...be well, love...

Xander went as fast as he could, the Potentials milling around him like moonlets around a planet, Amanda beside him and Rona crying softly right behind.  Buffy quietly asked Faith to get the First Aid kit and sent Dawn scrambling for a sheet and blanket.  Johnathan was sent off next for juice and a muffin for Ethan and they all arrived in the garden about the same time.  Buffy and Dawn spread the doubled sheet on the ground and Buffy helped Xander to ease Tara down, straightening her limbs and arranging her arms, her face tight with worry.

"Is she...god, she looks -"   Rona looked utterly spooked and Xander frowned up at her.

"She's going to be fine.  She lost a lot of blood.  She's just unconscious.  Ethan - what do I do?"

Ethan had collapsed onto the edge of a concrete planter, gulping orange juice.  He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and looked up at Giles, nodding once.  "You need to get that coat off of her, and let her hands touch the ground."  Xander nodded and Buffy knelt down, helping him roll Tara from side to side, stripping off Spike's duster.  Dawn was ready with the blanket but they all stared in shock for a moment at the symbols carved so cruelly deep into the palely tawny skin of Tara's chest, ribs and belly.

Oh god, oh FUCK, those bastards, gonna PAY for this -   Xander let the others see, showing them the wounds, and there was a roar of fury from inside the house as the extent of Tara's hurts came clear to Spike.  Xander looked up and saw him in the doorway, demon-faced and teeth bared, KILL them, kill all of them, no mercy, none left, kill them not pack not pack sluicing like lava through the link.  Dawn tucked the blanket up around Tara and then Xander and Buffy carefully got Tara's hands out from under it and laid them palm down on the leaf-littered floor of the garden, bunching the sheet out of the way.

"What - what next?  What do we do?" Xander asked, and he could hear Rona and another one or two potentials crying - could hear whispering.  "Shut up!  She's going to be fine!  Giles - Ethan, what next?"  Ethan held his hand out and let Giles haul him to his feet.  They both came over and knelt on either side of Tara, looking grave.

"She must do it herself, I'm afraid," Giles said softly.  "We must - wake her up a little."  They all looked down at her unconscious, too-pale features, and Xander felt a wave of helplessness go through him.  

Be all right, she'll be all right, she's strong, from Oz, and he looked up to see both wolves on either side of Spike, leaning into his legs, Spike's hands knotted in their fur.   Just inside the margin of safety, in the shadowy edge of the doorway.

"Oh!  Here -"   Dawn dove for something in the kit and handed it to Giles - a small vial of something that Giles immediately opened and waved under Tara's nose.  

Smelling salts, Spike supplied as Xander caught a whiff and recoiled.  Buffy was wrinkling her nose as well at the acrid reek.  Tara stirred, turning her head a little, and she coughed weakly.  Giles waved the vial again and her eyes snapped open, pain and fear in wide green eyes.  She coughed again, harder, and moaned in pain.  Giles capped the vial and Xander carefully brushed a strand of hair back from Tara's cheek - smoothed that same cheek with his palm.

"Tara?  Tara, you're safe - it's Xander and - and Buffy - we've got you, Tara."  She blinked - licked her lips, looking dazedly at the faces that ringed her.

"E-ethan?" she rasped, and the mage shifted into her view.

"I'm here, child. We're all here."  Tara managed a tiny sort of smile - grimaced as she tried to move.

"Don't - Tara, you're really hurt -"

"The girls -"

"We're fine, Tara - we...  God, we're so sorry!"  Amanda wiped her eyes, trying not to cry, and Tara slumped back, nodding.

"Oh-oh-okay, glad..."  Her voice faded to a mumble and her eyes were fluttering, trying to close.

"Tara - you must not sleep.  You need to heal yourself."  Giles leaned over Tara, gently patting her cheek.   "Can you remember the invocation?  Call to Brigit, Tara..."   Tara blinked again and again - finally nodded faintly.

"I can - do it, I can..."  Her fingers pushed weakly at the ground, burying the tips a little into the thick loam.

"Everyone get back - back up," Xander said.  The Potentials stepped away, forming a wide ring, and Buffy stood up and grabbed Dawn's hand, backing away.  Faith picked up the First Aid kit and moved away as well.   Giles helped Ethan up and away but Xander couldn't move - didn't want to move -and he reached out and put his hand lightly on Tara's.

"Come on, Tara - come on, you can do this."  Tara smiled wanly up at him - closed her eyes, frowning.  Then she began to whisper, soft words in a language Xander wasn't familiar with.  

That's Irish.  Brigit's Irish.  She's calling her...   A touch of awe in Spike's mental voice, and Xander closed his own eyes, listening to the rhythm of the words; the soft, musical sound of the language.  He felt heat and fur and  Derio and the wolf settled with a pained sigh beside him.   The call went on, lulling and soft, and Xander slipped into a blank place, where Tara's voice was like the wind or the sea, and the sunlight was a cocoon of warmth around him - the earth under his knees the only point of solidity.  A soft gasp from the crowd around them and he opened his eyes.  A delicate light - palely silver-green, dancing like the sun reflecting off water - surrounded Tara.  It seemed to come from the earth and the air and from Tara herself, and it rippled and shivered with every breath - every movement of Tara's lips.  The light was over Derio as well, tipping each hair with a speck of witch-fire and making his eyes spark gold-green.  Xander watched as the tail-end of a cut over Tara's shoulder slowly knit itself together, not noticing he was crying until he felt Derio's muzzle nudging his hand.

All right, it's all right...

She's doing it, love...god, look at her -   Oz made a low, whining sound, happiness and excitement, and the moment went on and on, until finally Tara's voice died away, and her eyes fluttered open again.   The green light seemed to glow that much brighter for a moment, and then it was sucked back and down, flowing into the earth and fading away and Tara pushed herself slowly upright, clutching the blanket.  Xander wiped his face, impatient with tears, but feeling - lighter, somehow.

"Tara!  God - that was - that was amazing, that was..."   Xander didn't know what to say - reached out hesitantly and Tara folded gratefully into him, shaking.

She's fine, she's perfect, she - god -

It's all right love...  Bring her in, please bring her in -   Spike was desperate to touch her - confirm that she was there, and safe, and healed, and Xander nodded into Tara's shoulder, sniffing.

"She'll be - very tired," Giles said gently, and Xander looked up to see everyone crowding close, smiling through tears or, like Dawn, bouncing with ill-suppressed glee.

"Man, I need some powers like that," Faith said, grinning, and Xander had to grin back.

"Want to go inside, Tara?" Xander asked, and Tara leaned back a little and nodded.  There was still blood and dirt on her skin and she looked down at herself with a grimace.

"Yeah, I would.  I r-really need a shower."

"A bath - you'll fall and knock yourself silly," Ethan said, and Tara sighed - nodded reluctantly.

"I do feel k-kinda - weak."

"My dear girl - you called Brigit to you, and called her power of healing out of the Earth itself.  It's a wonder you're not comatose."   Giles' voice was full of pride and delight and Xander got his arms under Tara and carefully lifted, Derio bracing him on one side and Faith on the other.  Dawn got the blanket tucked up right, making sure Tara was covered and she rested her head on Xander's shoulder, her arms around his neck.  Xander went carefully inside, the Potentials parting like the red sea - went straight to Spike and Oz.  Derio pushed past, human again, the dirt-streaked sheet around him, healed by the light, also.   He held the sheet just so and Oz changed as well, winding the rest of the sheet hastily around his hips as Xander brought Tara up to them.   Spike just stood there, staring at her, then he reached out and slowly stroked her hair, his face shuttered but the link crowded with joy and awe and the undercurrent of rage that they all shared.  

Xander was aware, sort of, of Buffy sending the Potentials away, back to drilling or chores or something - of asking Faith to start a bath in the downstairs tub and shooing Johnathan to the kitchen with Giles and Ethan, telling him Ethan wasn't the only one who needed food.  Then she faded back, and Dawn slipped up close, and they were all there, just there, sister brother family faintly from Dawn, love family from Tara even fainter - more emotion than clear thought, more a warm breath through their souls than anything else.

Safe, pack is safe, family is safe, the hyena crowed, wanting to roar joy and challenge to the rafters, but Xander shushed it.

"Thank you f-for coming for m-me..." Tara whispered, pushing a little into Spike's hand, looking at them all with eyes glittering and wet.

"Always come for you, Glinda.  Never doubt it," Spike murmured, and she nodded, smiling at them.

"C'mon, you need to get cleaned up," Xander finally said, when he saw Faith wandering back from the bath and Buffy starting to look a little impatient.

"Wait.  B-buffy?  Tell Giles - I saw d-down past the seal.  I saw..."  Tara stopped and shut her eyes for a moment.  "I saw - thousands of those - those Turok vampires.  Hundreds of th-thousands.  Tell him, okay?"

"Yeah.  Yeah, I'll tell him.  Right after you get cleaned up and into bed."  Buffy's smile was strained but Tara nodded gratefully, laying her head down and sighing, worn out.  Xander carried her to the bathroom and left her in Buffy and Dawn's gentle hands, and joined his pack on the steps.

We can't fight that many, he thought.  Not if they're all strong like that...

Won't have to.  We'll figure a way, love.  We WILL.

Maybe if we figure out what this Caleb has... Oz thought, speculating, and Derio leaned into him and sighed, looking as worn-out as Tara.  You should sleep, me amor, Oz chided gently, and Derio closed his eyes.

So hungry.  Eat then sleep.  Are we still going tonight?  The winery?   They all thought about that for a minute, and they all knew what they wanted.  Revenge.

We'll go, with or without the Slayer.  Can burn the bloody thing to the ground if nothing else, Spike concluded, and they all agreed.  Something would be done, one way or the other.

"Okay, so - what's the signal?" Oz asked, and Buffy looked impatient.

"Lots of yelling.  Everybody ready?"  There was shuffling and a murmuring and Buffy took it for assent - squared her shoulders and nodded.  "Okay.  Spike.  We're trying to find something that he's got.  Something hidden, maybe.  So we may need to talk to him.  Is this translating into English for you?"

"Fold, spindle and mutilate, no killing, check," Spike muttered, sucking hard on the last inch of his cigarette, demon-face all but vibrating with suppressed rage.  Xander felt the same - felt it from Oz and Derio, as well.  A seething cloud of red-tinged fury, boiling up like ants from a nest.  Biting, pinching, urging them all on.  Relentless.  Spike had left his duster - his duster - at the mansion.  Left it folded in Tara's lap with a 'don't let this get lost, eh Glinda?' and a kiss on the cheek.  In the link had been scenes - some memories, some just fantasy - all so gory that it made sense.  Spike didn't want his precious coat covered in...stuff.   Too much work to clean off THAT much blood, he'd thought, mind straying to something that had happened in Potsdam in 1889.  It had only stoked their own fire, and Xander had wondered, distantly, when Spike's history had ceased to be an issue for him in any way.  Xander watched as Buffy and about half the Potentials - and Oz and Derio in wolf form - slipped away through the scrubby trees and bushes that crowded the old winery.

Gotta stay calm - can't go nuts.  Nobody can get hurt - Xander thought, edge of rationality threatening to slip away as the hyena bullied itself up and out and the world became curiously flat and almost colorless.

Calm, calm...not pack not pack not pack.  Kill what touches mine, kill it, was the less than rational reply from Derio and Oz, ringing synchronicity in their mental voice.  The demon had long-since lost its ability to form words and the fury and malice spiraling out from it - from Spike - made Xander's breath come hard and fast - made him clench his fists until his nails cut into his palms.  They waited, the Potentials in a huddle stinking of fear and nerves; Spike standing stock-still, a nearly sub-sonic growl rattling up out of his chest.  Faith stood uneasily beside him, dividing her attention between the winery and the vampire.  The link from Oz and Derio showed the colorless world-view of the wolves, moving along at hip-height to the Potentials.   The vegetation thinned and then they were trotting across a packed-earth courtyard, past stacks of cut, dead vines and heaps of fresher earth, the rich fungal scent thick in the air.

Digging...under the earth. Digging a lair or a...hiding place...   Wordless agreement from Oz, and then Buffy was kicking in the doors - leaping into a space lit by dim electric light.  The Potentials flooded in, Oz and Derio bounded forward, down a shallow, short flight of stairs.  They could smell Bringers - a sharp, acid, rot sort of smell, and then black-clad figures boiled out of every space and the fight began.

"Let's go!" Xander shouted and "Fuck yeah!" from Faith and they ran, Spike like a fire-pale arrow shooting straight ahead, the Potentials crashing heedlessly through the brush.  Xander felt the hyena's voice struggling in his throat and he tipped up his chin and let it out, ringing shriek of challenge and hate.  It was answered by the wolves - by Spike - and beside him a Potential cried out and almost tripped.  He yanked her upright - grinned nastily into her shocked face and flung himself forward, plunging through the doors a second or so behind Spike and into a whirling wind-mill of activity.

Some of these girls are going to die, was Xander's last real thought, and then there was just the satisfying crunch of bone and the wet tearing of flesh.

"Is that it?  Is that all?"  Buffy was panting, standing with legs braced, looking warily around.  Spike felt the demon retreat a bit - looked around himself at the room they'd been fighting in.  It was some sort of cellar - a storage room - with fifty or more huge, wooden vats of wine in rows against the walls.  The thick, ripe smell of the wine was everywhere in the room, as was the smell of freshly turned earth and blood.  

Family - insistent, and Xander was right there.

Family, we're here, we're safe -

Pack pack from Oz and pack from Derio.  All accounted for.  Bringer corpses were scattered like jack-straws over the dirt floor, and Spike grinned fiercely at the carnage.  

Did good, did good, he praised, knowing that his pack and the Slayers had accounted for most of the deaths.   There were so many he wondered if that was all of them, if they'd wiped out the nest.  He dragged his hand back through his hair, pushing stray locks off his forehead and grimacing at the stickiness.  He knew he was spattered in blood - he could taste it, and it was sharp with fear and magic.   Everyone else was in a similar state, although Buffy, he noticed, had escaped the worst of it.

The air seemed to crackle with something - with some further thing yet to happen - and Spike nodded in agreement as Xander and Faith got the Potentials who were still standing busy gathering up the wounded.  He counted eight that were hurt - two badly enough to be unconscious - and three dead.  As he watched the bodies shimmered and disappeared.  Part of the spell Tara had done.    The corpses were tied to the talismans Tara had made, and each talisman would bring its 'owner' straight to it if the 'spark' left it.  Giles' own twist on the spell because he couldn't bear the thought of sending a telegram to someone's family, and giving them nothing to mourn over and bury.  

Nasty surprise for them, when those show up, Spike thought, and felt a moment's pang for Tara, who would be upset.

"Where is he?  Is he even here?" Buffy asked, watching the last of the injured girls straggle out.  Kennedy, Chao-ahn, Amanda and Rona stood at the top of the steps, waiting.  Rear-guard while the hale helped the injured to the van Johnathan had waiting down the road.

"You must mean me," a voice said - smooth and amused - and something stirred in the shadows at the far end of the room.  Then he stepped out into the light - Caleb; his priest's costume immaculate, the grin that split his face superior and sharp-edged.  "And you must be the Whore of Babylon - and Mary Magdalene, eh?  Sluts, all."  Caleb stood with his hands loosely at his side, studying Buffy and Faith.  Spike felt the instant urge to kill from the wolves - from Xander - and he himself held back with difficulty, letting Buffy run the show.  Caleb glanced up at the four Potentials near the door, a sneering look of dismissal.  

"And your little followers - other dirty girls who think they can escape their fate."

"The only person with a fate here is me," Buffy said, low and measured tones, and Faith bumped her with an elbow.  "Oh, and Faith, too.  And you - you're fated to die.  Now hand over what's mine so we can get on with it."

"You tell 'em, B," Faith said, chuckling, and Caleb narrowed his eyes at them.

"You should both be begging my forgiveness.  Not that I'll give you forgiveness.  There's no absolution for the foul creatures that you are.  Polluted with darkness while you pretend to the light."

"What are you talkin' about?  'Cause tell the truth, I'm kinda bored now," Faith said, and Caleb let out a short bark of laughter.  Spike could feel Oz and Derio slinking around the edges of the room, looking for anything hidden - looking for something because the room seemed to be a dead end.

A trap?  Maybe -   Xander started sorting possibilities in his head, coming down the stairs to stand by Spike, who was a few feet behind the Slayers.

If it's a trap we've sprung it - don't think he counted on us killin' off all his little workers. There was a muted chirrup from Xander and he snapped open his cell.  Spike could clearly hear Johnathan on the other end, but he was pretty sure no one else could.

"They're all here - we're going.  Clem's going to wait.  Be careful."  

"Go," Xander said softly, and shut the phone - put it away.  Johnathan was taking the girls back to the mansion.  The hospital was as abandoned as the rest of the town, and they'd raided it for every conceivable medical supply.   The Watcher, the mage and Glinda had strengthened the wards on the house to near impenetrability, especially for this night.  Just in case.  Knowing the rest were safely out of the way made Spike feel - looser - and he pulled a cigarette from the squashed pack in his back pocket and lit up, blowing a stream of smoke towards Caleb.

"I'm with you there, Slayer.  Bored."  

Caleb sauntered a step closer, grinning still.  "Oh, the vampire.  And the one who sees."  He frowned at Xander and Spike stepped in front of him, growling, the demon just there without thought.  "Oh, don't flash your fangs at me, half-breed.  I've seen the true demon, and you - don't measure up."  Caleb turned back to the Slayers and Spike sucked in smoke and watched him, tense.  Ready to leap.

Thank god you're nothing like the Turok-han - can't really see me getting' down and dirty with ole' Batface.

What's his game then?  All this talk...wolfling, anything?

Some digging here.  There's something UNDER here - but it's blocked.  These vats -

We'll move 'em once we clear this mess out.  Find his secret.   Caleb was still prattling on, and Buffy looked annoyed.

"It's no surprise you consort with this kind of - rabble," he said, waving a dismissive hand at Spike and Xander.  "Considering your beginnings, it's a wonder you don't join them.  I suppose we have those Watchers to thank for that."

"Look - is there a point to all this?   'Cause I gotta say - not really interested in the Mr. Evil psychobabble.  I just want what's mine."  Buffy looked up as Caleb got a little closer.

"Oh, that's right.  What's yours."  Caleb laughed.  "Glad you got my message, by the way.  I admit to being a little heavy-handed there.  Touch and go for awhile if you'd get to hear what I told her before she gasped her last.  Sometimes -"   Caleb stopped and gazed beatifically upwards.  "Sometimes the spirit just moves me, you know?"

"How 'bout havin' this move you?" Faith said and leaped at him, a high, hard kick flashing towards his face.  He took the blow with a rock backwards of his head and then he had Faith by one arm, twisting it up hard behind her back.

"Little girl, you should know better than to interrupt your elders.  Down on your knees like the little slut you are."  Caleb forced Faith to her knees, his other hand fisted in her hair and yanking her head back hard.  He jerked her arm up higher and Spike heard the crack as something broke and Faith went utterly white.

"One good twist and there'll be only one again.  What'dya think about that, Slayer?" he purred.

"No!"  It was Rona, charging clumsily down the stairs and straight at Caleb, a nail-studded baseball bat in her hands.  Caleb half-lifted Faith and threw her, and she crashed into a wall and slid down, limp.

Oh fuck! from Xander, and the wolves bolted forward, heading in.  Spike did the same, watching with fury as Caleb easily avoided the wild blow Rona aimed at him.  He snatched the bat from her and spun it like a majorette - swung - and the nails buried themselves in Rona's skull with a meaty thud.  She fell to her knees and then her back and then Oz and Derio hit him, snarling.  He threw them off, the back of his shirt torn open now, and Spike snarled at the yelps of pain when they smashed into the floor.  Buffy ran forward only to meet Caleb's fist.  She flew backwards into a vat, cracking it, and wine started to seep out, pungent in the close air.  Spike plowed into the quasi-priest, clawing and trying to get in one good  bite to the jugular but Caleb put a fist like a hammer into his gut and then kicked, sending him reeling.  Xander ran forward as well, axe swinging up and then down and Caleb darted away and flung Xander across the room, half up the stairs.  Kennedy, Chao-ahn and Amanda had been frozen at the top of the flight and now they tumbled down over Xander and moved in and Caleb swatted them away, laughing.  Chao-ahn hit the broken vat hard enough to snap her neck and the wine gushed out over her, washing her body to Caleb's feet even as it faded away as Rona's had.

"Come on - is this all you've got?  Is this really all the Chosen One has to throw at me?  Strumpets and half-breeds and abominations?"  He waded towards Buffy and Faith who were both struggling back to their feet.

"Buffy!  There's a trap door!" Xander yelled suddenly, and Spike whirled to look - saw that there was, a door set flush into the floor where the broken vat was, half-visible in the splintered wreckage.  

"Oh, that was supposed to be a secret," Caleb said, and he was frowning now.  "Come out, come out, wherever you are!" he yelled, and the door heaved and opened and Bringers flooded out; five, ten, more.

Fuck - too many - wolves are hurt, Faith is -

Get 'em out, love - hurry! Spike thought, and he threw himself at the Bringers, claws and fangs and bone-cracking blows.

"Buffy, let's go!   We gotta go!" Xander shouted.    Spike was aware, through Derio and Oz and Xander himself, of Kennedy grabbing Amanda's hand and yanking her up the stairs - of Buffy pushing Faith that way as well, and Derio limping after her, pain in the link from what might a broken leg.  Oz darted in and swiped at Caleb with his teeth, getting a glancing, painful kick to his ribs in return.

Out!  Hurry!  More Bringers were coming up from below and Spike saw Xander wading in, axe flashing, and Buffy joining him.  Caleb seemed to be thinking, standing there glaring at them.

"Slayer - get out!  Xan -"   Spike whirled and kicked and killed, and Buffy sprinted for the stairs, Xander going more slowly behind, taking out the Bringers who surged after him.  Spike grabbed another Bringer and wrenched head from neck - spun, kicking, making a clear space so he could follow Xander.  And then he was on his knees, he was howling as white-hot pain lanced through his head and someone was screaming and he staggered to his feet, utterly confused, the pain like fire and acid, ten times worse than the chip ever had been.  Caleb had Xander in his grip - had one hand around his throat and one on his face and the link was agony, was a nauseating, lancing throb.  Spike thought he might vomit - might collapse - but instead he roared and he leaped for Caleb - sank his fangs into the bit of throat visible above the priests' collar and bit.  Caleb reeled backwards, dropping Xander, beating at Spike with his fists.  Spike drank faster then he ever had, feeling the man's heartbeat stutter and lurch and then he was wrenching his fangs free in a gout of arterial blood; taste of rotting tin, belladonna, fire in his mouth.  Xander was on the floor, both hands clutched over his left eye, curled into a shivering knot.  There was blood - so much blood.

No, Xan - love, please -

Hurts hurts hurts get me out out Spike!   Spike staggered and locked his hand around Xander's wrist - hauled him up and then scooped him into his arms, heading for the stairs.

"Guess he won't s-see so damn much, now," Caleb rasped somewhere behind him and Oz was a blur hurtling past him.  There was a choking gurgle and silence.  Spike half ran up and out, heading for the van, Caleb's blood making him reel.  Power, in that blood, more power than the Slayer in China and he could barely see - couldn't feel his feet or his arms or Xander...

Love, love - please - Xander - what did he do, what did he do!   Stutter of images - Caleb's face, his hand on Xander's throat, throttling him, his other hand covering his face, his eye.  Something hard against his eye, pushing, pushing, oh fuck no, no -

Nonono Spike, Spike - help, hurts, it hurts SPIKE!  Xander was writhing in his arms, moaning in a horrible, guttural tone and Spike staggered into a bush and then a tree, his sight dazzling and darkening and his head singing.  Arms came around him - Oz, naked and blood-streaked and whimpering in pain, his eyes black and wild.

"Oh god, god, Xander - we're here -"  Oz' hands feverishly stroked over Xander's arm, over his ribs, but Xander was lost, sinking into unconsciousness, blood still seeping down his face and the pain like a spike, like a shard of burning ice all through his head.

"Xander!"  Spike dropped to his knees, jolting him, making him cry out, bringing him back and Spike did the only thing he knew to do.  He tore his wrist open and pushed it hard against Xander's mouth, willing his boy to drink, willing the magic and the demon's blood and the claim to do something - anything - to help.  "Drink, love, drink it, please, it'll help, please please please -"   Xander choked, coughed, and then he was drinking as fast as he could.  Spike let him - let him drink until his own head cleared, until the dizzying power that had been in Caleb's blood had ebbed enough for him to see - to think straight.    

They were barely twenty yards from the winery and Spike struggled to his feet again, Oz still there, Oz bracing him and holding on and fuck hurts breathe from the wolf, broken ribs stabbing into his muscles.

"Wolf - go -"

"No -come on, Spike!"  Oz gasped, a thin, choked sound of pain rising up and escaping between his teeth.  "Clem's there - hurry - too close."  They half-ran, staggering, a steady moaning whimper from Xander at every jolt and jounce, a tea-kettle hissing from Oz and his fingers hurtfully deep in Spike's arm.  Something crashed in the bushes and Buffy was there, panting, getting her arm around Spike from the other side and half carrying him, struggling over roots and clumps of grass.  The van came into view finally, looming up in the thin moonlight, headlights blazing and Clem behind the wheel, one sagging-skinned arm waving frantically out the window.

The back doors were open and Buffy and Oz heaved, getting Spike up, Oz crying out.  Spike sank to his knees, pulling Xander close, hurts hurts hurts Spike please hurts as Xander gained some awareness.

"Goin' home, love, we're goin', you'll be fine, you'll be fine, Xan..."    Be fine, please, fucking hell, my boy, my own, you'll be fine we'll fix it, promise, promise.  The van lurched into gear and sped away, Buffy hanging half out to slam the doors and then there was only darkness, and pain.