Complement

XXV - Sympathy For The Devil
(Part C)

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He was standing on the other side of the counter in the Hyperion watching the interplay between the L.A. crew. They, just like the Sunnydale crew, were a family. of tof them amazed him, humbled and awed him. In the past few days between the Slayers', the Scoobies and the L.A. crew, he had regained some of his hope for mankind. Between what he had seen in the Tapestry and with his own eyes he knew that as long as there were people like them in the world there would always be hope. How could there not be? They were a ragtag crew and probably in all his long life the oddest crew of Warriors for the Light, he had ever seen. Mortal enemies fighting together, in harmony, in peace, for the good of the world, the loyalty, the love, the bond that was between all of them strong, if not one of the strongest he had ever seen.

Luc moved from the counter and made his way over to stand beside Cordelia.

Angel lifted his eyes from the book he was reading he looked around sharply. Something had sent his senses to tingling. He sniffed the air, and opened himself fully to the room. It was there on the edges of his mind tickling him, he didn't get the feeling that it was looking to harm them, in fact, it felt almost benevolent. He shook his head to clear it maybe he was imagining it. Ever since the Slayers had died, he had been having these weird little feelings like something was trying to reach him through the veil between realities, between life and death. He had been putting it down to wishful thinking, wanting something to be there that simply just wasn't. No matter what he told himself though, he could not shake the feeling that something about their deaths just wasn't right.

Softly Luc whispered, 'Sorry' then lightly touched Cordelia on the shoulder. He stepped back away from her, waiting for the vision to come.

"What?" Cordelia looked up at Angel.

"Huh?"

"Wh....ah shit!" Cordelia moaned out, grabbing her head.

Angel was out of his chair. Using his vampiric speed, he managed to catch her as she started to pitch forward.

Cordelia's h fel fell away from her head, the searing pain made her eyes tear and glaze over. Her body started to quiver, convulse, as her brain was inundated with the rapid-fire images.

Each flashed series of images was accompanied by a blinding stream of pain in her head:

(Blinding white circular light, swirling, turbulent, mystical, bolts of lightning flashed through it, startling, maiming, hitting something, something unseen within the light. Something was wrong,re wre were too many in the light... The lightning was hitting too many...)

(Daylight, moving fast, green highway sign, with white around the edges, only the words: 'Welcome to S' were clear enough to read.)

(A bedroom, dusty, unused, sunlight filtered in through the partially open curtains, running across the floor like a beacon towards the object under the bed. A black backpack almost completely hidden under one corner of the large bed. It lay open, a very old, large black book partially falling out of it.)

(An antique vase, some kind of hieroglyphics on it held in a delicate pair of hands. The sunlight highlighting it warred with the darkness of the object itself.)

(An enclosed garden, tables, chairs, lounge, tiled patio, gate, the sun moved across the ivy on the wall.)

('Tween hour, hazel, green, chocolate-brown eyes floating, long lashes, sadness, fear, love flashed through them as they faded.)

(Dusk side-by-side graves, not new, not old, new grass, slowing dying with the coming fall.)

(Darkness, the moon slowly changing color, the same graves, three candles seemly suspended in the air, the same delicate hands holding the same antique vase with the hieroglyphics, something dark, thick in the bottom of it, red, blood.)

(Darker still, silent, the three candles lay extinguished, discarded by the side of the same graves, first from one then from the other, hands, reaching from beneath the ground they were buried in, reaching into the night, towards freedom, frantic, panicked, pushing aside the dirt that kept them trapped below.)

(Darkness laced through with red from the glow of the now blood-red moon, hazel, chocolate-brown eyes floating, fading, turning into pitch black hate-filled, cruel, uncaring, malicious, eyes of pure evil.)

(Two shapes silhouetted running away from the empty graves through the cemetery, shrouded in darkness, bathed by the light of the now bleeding blood-red moon.)
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She brought her hands up and rubbed her eyes not really caring if she smeared her mascara all over face. She started to sit up when she realized, at some point while she was out of it, Angel must have put her on the couch. She fell back down and groaned in pain at the tiny shooting poker-like aftershocks that ripped through her head. She moved her hands to her temples and lightly massaged them trying to alleviate some of the pressure behind her eyes.

Angel leaned over; gently he lifted her head and placed a throw pillow under it. "Are you okay?" He asked her in an almost whisper.

Cordelia smiled weakly at him, even seeing his concerned filled face she couldn't stop the Queen C in her from coming out. "Sure just fine for someone who just had what felt like red-hot needles being shoved through her eyes. No problem, feel great!"

He ducked his head, murmuring, "Sorry," under his breath, and she couldn't help but feel a little bad.

"No... I'm sorry." She noticed Wesley, Fred and Gunn hovering in the background. She could see that Wesley was almost busting a gut to keep from asking her what she had seen. Cordelia waved them over to her weakly.

"Can you tell us what you saw?" Wesley asked her quietly, more concerned with her welfare than anything else.

Cordelia realized in that second that she had misread his face, he had been busting at the gut to ask her how she was, not what she saw. Considering how she always seemed to rant at them whenever they asked she really couldn't blame him for holding his tongue.

"Could someone get me a pad and paper I need to draw something as well..." She sat up with Angel's help, feeling infinitely better now that the shooting pain had changed to a dull ache.

Something about this vision had been a little different then the others. For one thing, there were no ac fac faces, no truly recognizable places. It was more like subtle hints, or a gentle push in the right direction. This time it felt more like the PTB's were trying to tell her something rather then get them to kill some demon thing. Whatever it was, Cordelia had no doubt about the who, what, and where, she just didn't know the why. She couldn't forget those haunted eyes even if she tried.

"Thanks..." she said to Fred as she handed her the pad and pencil. She took a deep breath; this wasn't going to be easy it had only been three months since... "Here's what I saw..."
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They looked at each other when she finished, they agreed with her, something about this vision was different. It didn't matter though that it was different, they knew where they needed to go and the sooner the better. Wesley, Cordelia, Gunn and Angel all thought silently to themselves that the why would be revealed to them when they got there.

"Road trip?"

"Road trip..." They all chorused.

Luc smiled from where he was sitting on the counter after listening to their conversation. Finally, something had gone right! The seeds of doubt had been planted and he knew that the vampire with a soul would figure it out. He smiled a little wider; they really were an amazing group.

Then the Prince of Darkness was gone.
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She slowly opened her eyes trying not to k abk about how fragile Buffy felt within her arms. She felt almost completely rested for the first time since they had been dragged here to Glory's Hell World. Last night was the first time she had slept without the fear of being dragged bodily off the couch or out of the bath. She was still in pain and could feel her body struggling to heal itselfr Slr Slayer healing helping it along but not as quickly for either of them as it normally did. She imagined the slower healing had to do with the lack of sleep and food.

Her stomach grumbled low and deep at the thought of food. She didn't really notice the hunger pains, she had lived with them for almost her whole life. Up until recently there had only been two times in all her twenty years when she hadn't gone hungry. The first time had been when she had thrown in with the Mayor and the second when she had been in jail.

Buffy, she knew, had only gone hungry once in her life, and even that had been short lived, it had been the summer she had run away to L.A. after sending Angel to hell. Up until now, Buffy hadn't known what it was like to live with the constant hunger pains that after awhile became like a part of your anatomy.

Faith's stomach grumbled again louder and she couldn't help but smile when she heard Buffy's grumble in response. Her smile grew a little softer when Buffy rubbed her hand across her stomach, before she snuggled deeper into her arms.

Another sort of rumbling grew louder in Faith as she felt Buffy's soothing touch upon her belly. She realized she was purring, deep inside, and belatedly she realized that she had been purring since she had woken up. Softly she stroked Buffy, making small comforting circles on her back and heard an answering rumbling purr from Buffy. At Buffy's purr, she felt that ancient, remembered thing deep inside, in her blood quicken and answer its mate. It scared and exhilarated her in a way; there was something almost primeval, feral about it. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that since they had been here they had started to express themselves more with growls, purrs, hiss', snarls, rather than through speech. Was it another Slayer Thing? They had even purred their satisfaction, approval to Luc yesterday when he had crushed Johnny's hand with his fist.

Faith kept gently stoking Buffy's back and let her thoughts drift to Luc. Was he really Satan? She didn't know why, but she was almost one-hundred percent positive that he was, which was weird because she had from the second she met him no fear of him. In fact, he was somehow familiar to her and that scared the shit out of her now that she knew who he was. Not familiar in the sense that she had met him before, but more like she had seem som somewhere. Did he remind her of a male model from one of the magazines? He was certainly beautiful enough to be one. But that didn't feel right either. She let it go for now, sooner or later it would come to her.

So what was that whole singing the Stones song thing about? Was he trying to put them at ease? She could tell by his eyes that he had been. So what the fuck was that all about? And what the fuck was all that crap about weaving, threads, tapestries, like he was some goddamn seamstress? Faith chuckled silently to herself at the visual she got of the devil sitting on a couch sewing a hem in a pair of pants... then the image of the pants in his hand slowly changed into something that looked more like a square piece of canvas.

Faith pulled away from the changing images in her mind, afraid. Did she really want to figure out what he had been trying to tell her? She knew he had been trying to get his message across to her, not Buffy. Should she trust him? What if she did and this turned out to be another of Glory or Johnny's games?

But the bigger questions were: What if it wasn't? What if she ignored this, refused to try and this turned out to be a way to help them get out of this nightmare? What if this was their only chance and she missed it because she was afraid?

She had to try; she had to try for Buffy's sake. If it turned out that she was being set up, that this was another game, well...

Faith had figured out Glory's game after the very first day. Glory had practically told them, had shown them it.

After nine years of Johnny's games, it hadn't been hard to figure out even through her own fear. Glory was addicted to their fear, their pain, their anguish, so she used the things, people, situations, against them that they feared the most.

For Buffy, it was not being able to help, to save, to protect, to do what she had been Chosen to do. Glory had made it a millions times worse by making it Faith that Buffy was unable to help or protect. Making Buffy helpless to save or protect her soul-mate from her greatest fear, which was Johnny and what he had done and was doing to Faith again.

What none of them knew, including Buffy, was what Johnny had done, was doing to her again, was no longer her greatest fear. Faith's greatest fear now was that Johnny would do to Buffy what he was doing to her. She didn't know hmaybmaybe it was sheer willpower or strength of mind, or simply just the love she felt for Buffy that enabled her to keep it hidden from all of them. But hidden from them all it remained. Even now, Faith shied away from dwelling on it to long.

Knowing what Glory's game was, was why Faith knew with absolutely certainty that if this was a game that Luc was playing with them, and they, she, was being set up, that she would receive the worst of it. Just like she did now. She could live with that, but she wouldn't be able to live with herself if it turned out that this wasn't a game and Luc was truly trying to help them and she didn't try.

Having made up her mind, she cleared it, making it blank like Angel had taught her. She relaxed back into the softness of the couch and the comfort that came from having Buffy in her arms. She knew she needed to let her subconscious take over, to let it puzzle through the images. She tried to focus her mind for the first time since being dragged here, looking for her center.

As she waded through all the pain, both physical and emotional, she slowly found her way to her center. She sank into the meditative trance-like state that Angel had taught her. She visualized once again Luc sitting on the couch hemming a pair of pants, then she just let her mind go and the images started to flow.

Faith watched him as he drew the needle through the pants, the thread pulling through the cloth. His hands moving in practiced rhythm as if this were something he did often. Then the thread grew thicker, the needle longer, the fingers holding it, smaller, more delicate. They were a woman's fingers, long, delicate, wrinkled and spotted with age, but still nimble nonetheless. The material of the pants grew coarser, changing color to beige, the legs began to merge, 'til now the needle passed through what looked like a canvas. There was an image or images drawn very lightly in different colors on the canvas. She drifted down the length of the large canvas over a dark rose-colored settee, over the cushions, her eyes being drawn up the back of it to the wall. She hesitated, not sure if she wanted to see what was there on the wall, but she pushed aside her fear and looked anyway...

Faith's eyes were drawn to one painting in particular. It was him, Luc. Was he younger then he was now? No, it was his eyes, they looked younger, more carefrlessless world-weary, and they were a clear light blue. He was holding his hand out to a young woman, with flowing black hair. There was almost an ethereal quality about her, and her jade green eyes were looking adoringly at him. Faith's eyes were drawn against their own accord down the length of the woman's arm to her hands, hands that had long delicate fingers...

Fingers, hands that looked familiar, Faith realized she wasn't looking at a painting but at an intricate needlepoint. She started turning the room changing as she did. She remembered now, knew why the Slayer tingle she got from Luc was familiar, because she was getting that...
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"Child, welc........." Atropos' greeting died on her lips when Faith finished turning. Nothing, not even the images the Tapestry of Life had shown her, had prepared her for the vision of Faith standing in front of her.

Atropos bit back the gasp of horror, blinking away the tears that came to her eyes. Her eyes quickly traveled up Faith's body as she stood shaking by the loom, naked and vulnerable. Faith's whole body, including her face was covered in bruises, both old and new. She couldn't even begin to count the number of cuts, from fingernails, knives, and other things Atropos didn't even want to think about. She could see every single muscle clearly, as if she was looking at one of those pics ins in an anatomy book. See how they moved, worked with each other as Faith trembled in front of her. Her stomach was concave, from lack of food, and Atropos imagined that it was that way instead of bloated because of her Slayer metabolism, her body using even the gas in her stomach in an effort to try to heal itself. The skin over her ribcage was pulled so tight that Atropos could see the actual breaks in two of Faith's ribs. Her face sunken, and gaunt, the cheekbones so sharp that even a model would not want them. The gash under her bottom lip from her own teeth biting clean through her flesh was still not scabbed. Her slayer healing not bothering with such a minor injury compared to the others.

It was her eyes though, that made Atropos want to cry the hardest. They were so large and round, seeming even darker against the pallor of her face. A face that was frighteningly pale, even under the extensive bruising. They were almost lifeless; eyes that were weary, haunted and had seen far too much for one so young. They were filled with fear and pain. They stabackback at Atropos asking her why. Why had this happened? Why?

More than anything ever in her very, very long life, Atropos wished she had the answer for her.

She opened her mouth to say something to the young woman in front of her. Before Atropos could start, Faith closed her eyes, when she opened them, they blazed a trail of anger right at Atropos.

"Well I'm here! Got your fucking message!" Her voice came out five octaves deeper than normal; it was rusty, rough, the words not falling from her lips easily. It had been a long time since she had done more then scream in pain, or whisper nonsense words to Buffy. A long time since she had done anything but plead or beg, a long time since she had tried to communicate in anything but growls. "Now what? Ya want to show me some more great choices. Leaving out the best of course, like last time. Or maybe you just want to show me that I don't have any more fucking choices. That no matter what I do the scumbag is gonna eventually use all that shit on me that he likes to show me he has in the wardrobe in the play room. Maybe... maybe ya just wanna show me all the fun things Glory's gonna fucking do to me when she fiy giy gives into her lust. Show me all the things that are gonna happen to Buffy that I CAN'T FUCKING STOP. Or is it that you people, or gods, whatever the FUCK you are, are so goddamn bored that you've got nothing better to do but FUCK WITH OUR LIVES? IS THIS JUST ALL SOME FUCKING TWISTED SICK GAME YOU'RE PLAYING?"

Atropos took a step towards Faith, but stopped when Faith backed away from her quickly in fear. She didn't miss the pain that flashed across Faith's face at having to move so quickly. Atropos looked into those haunted eyes and watched as the anger, the rage faded from them and they filled with pain, the kind of pain that came from somewhere deep inside of your soul.

"This is all my fault." Atropos had to strain to hear Faith; her voice was so hoarse, low, tortured. "This is my punishment for all the bad I did all my life isn't it? That's why he came so I would know isn't it? I deserve this..." Faith choked a little on the tears that started to fall freely, "I know I deserve this... I've done evil things for as long as I can remember... They told me I was no good and I proved them all right... but... but B... Buffy she doesn't deserve this... She's never done anything bad, she's the hero... She's saved lives, she... she tried to save me... She gave her life for the world... She doesn't deserve this... She shouldn't be there... I should, but not her... not her..." Atropos had moved closer to Faith while she was speaking. Faith let her this time; she locked her eyes with Atropos, "... Please... please... I'm begging you... let her go..."

"Faith. I can't. I can't let Buffy go... I w..."

Faith dropped to her knees before Atropos could finish. She bowed her head putting herself in a completely submissive position to the Incarnate. She clutched at the hem of her dark green velvet gown and rushed out before Atropos could stop her. "Please... she doesn't deserve this... I'm no good, I'm evil... I know that... Please let her go..." Faith started sobbing great wrenching sobs from her soul, "I'll do anything you want... be anything you want... I'll be good... please... please just let her go... Please let Buffy go home..."

Faith fell back onto her calves, her sobs wracking her body making her double over, her thoughts just an endless litany of, 'I'm sorry B... I'm sorry... I'm sorry...'

Atropos dropped to her knees in front of Faith; she gently put her hand on her shoulder. She cringed inside when Faith flinched from the gentle touch her whole body tensing as if waiting for a blow. "I'm sorry Faith... None of this is your fault. If I could, if I had the power to do so, I would send you both home..." She gathered the trembling, crying Slayer into her arms, her own tears falling unnoticed. "I'm sorry... I wish more than anything else in the world that I had the power to send you both home... I'm so sorry..."
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"Faith.........?" Buffy mumbled in her sleep, restless, something wasn't right. From her subconscious, she reached out to her. She could feel her pain, a different kind of pain, not physical pain.

"Faith?" She mumbled again, something didn't feel right about the body she was holding, like it was empty somehow. Panic flared in her. She started to climb up out of sleep; at some point, she realized there was something familiar about this. Similar to how they shared their echoes, what they felt without speaking.

Buffy let herself stay in that place between sleeping and waking. She focused, concentrated on finding her center like Faith had not too long ago and just let herself drift towards Faith.
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"What the......? She started running towards them, "Get away from her. What the fuck? FAITH!"

Faith struggled out of Atropos arms, she whipped her head up, "B......? Don't..."

Buffy didn't hear her, she dove for Atropos. Only to find herself captured easily, lightly by the ancient woman she thought had hurt her mate. She struggled within the ancient woman's embrace, her arms flailing wildly, as she tried to get loose. She almost punched Faith by accident as she was rising up to her feet from the floor.

"B... Buffy it's okay... B! She didn't hurt me!"

Atropos put the blonde-haired Slayer down gently.

Buffy flung herself at Faith.

Faith just pulled Buffy into her embrace hugging Buffy tightly to her, ignoring the pain that hummed through her.

"I... I..." Buffy just gave up and hugged Faith tighter in return. She couldn't stop the hiss of pain that escaped her as Buffy's arm pressed down on her broken ribs. Buffy immediately loosened her grip and leaned back from her, Atropos completely forgotten by both Slayers. "Oh god I'm sorry I didn't..."

"It's okay B... I know you didn't mean it..."

"I heard you calling to me... I got scared... Something felt wrong... different..ke yke your body was there... but you weren't. Don't ever do that again Faith! Don't everve mve me like that! I got... I got..." Buffy started to cry softly, and Faith pulled her back into her arms again.

"Sssh... I'm sorry... I won't leave you again..."

"Promise?"

Faith leaned back a little and tenderly wiped the tears away. "I promise B..."

When she calmed down Buffy looked around the room. She saw they were in a vast room. A large loom was in the centf itf it with a massive intricate tapestry on it that extended beyond her sight in both directions. "Where are we?"

"You are in what we call the Tapestry of Life room." Both Slayers looked ttlettle surprised at the sound of her voice. They had obviously forgotten about her in their concern for each other. "I am Atropos, Elizabeth. Or you may know me as The Crone one of the three aspects of the Fates." She held her hand up when she saw Buffy was about to ask her a million questions. "Why don't the two of you clean up and rest a little first, then I will explain to you what I can. The Tapestry of Life will show you the rest." Atropos waved her hand and they were in another room.

"I hate when you do that..." Faith grumbled, though she really couldn't complain too much the room they were in was extremely appealing. Not to mention she felt absolutely no fear of anything or anyone for the first time in what felt like forever.

The room gave off an earthy warmth that was both inviting, sensuous and comforting at the same time. It was done in the deep browns, yellows, oranges and greens of the forest in the fall. A fire blazed in the hearth, and both Slayers basked in the heat it gave off. They couldn't help but to rub their toes in the dark, dark russet plush carpet under their feet. A large canopy bed with a thick down comforter was across the room and the lure of sleeping in such luxury, such comfort beckoned to them both. But it wasn't nearly as alluring as the tub-Jacuzzi that could easily fit six people in it on the other side of the room. Both could imagine how good the massaging jets would feel against their battered bodies. Already it was steaming with hot water and the scent of jasmine floated softly to them from it.

"I will leave you two to bathe and rest. There are clothes in the wardrobe. I will return for you in a little while." Atropos faded and then was gone.

"I really hate when she does that too." Faith's smile belied her words, she was grateful for just this little bit of time they were being granted here.

Buffy returned Faith's smile as she led them over to the tub. With weary, contented sighs, they sank into it. Buffy pulled Faith back to rest against her. She had gotten used to being in the bath with her this way over the last weeks, or had it been months? Right now though she didn't want to think about that, or there. She idly wondered if the bath water was magical because her body was pain free for the first time since this nightmare had started. She really didn't care though, because right this second, this moment, she just wanted to enjoy the feeling, and if Faith's purring was any indication she was feeling the effects of the magical bath water too.

"Seems as though they know you here. Want to tell me about it...?" Faith didn't answer her, she was too busy purring contently, taking pleasure in the warm water, Buffy, and the wondrous, mysterious feeling of no physical pain. Completely ignoring the fact that she knew this couldn't last forever, sooner or later they would have to go back there. For now she wanted to pretend that there didn't exist. That none of it had ever happened.

"Faith baby? Want to tell me about it... Hmmm baby..."

Faith sat up, turned around and looked wide-eyed at Buffy.

"What?" Buffy asked her, then it hit her like a two-ton brick. How fucking stupid could she be? Fuck, she called her baby, using his name. "I... I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you that it slipped out... I'm..."

Faith stopped Buffy by placing her fingers tenderly on her mouth. "No... I like when you call me that... It takes away his power... takes it away from him... gives it back to me... I don't know how to explain it any better than that... I missed you calling me that..." She smiled softly at Buffy, who return her smile.

Buffy pulled her back down to her, and Faith settled into her, leaning her head on her shoulder. They felt safe with each other, soothed by the feel of the other.

"I love you Faith..."

"I love you too B... Buffy..."

They fell asleep in the bath, purring deep inside, each in perfect sync with her mate.
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"Willow can we talk?"

They were sitting on the couch in the Mansion, in a half an hour the sun would be rising. Dawn had stayed over a friend's for the night and the Buffybot was back at the Summers' house recharging. Spike was off somewhere in the recess of the Mansion sleeping, preferring to spend the night here rather than alone in his crypt. Xander and Anya had left for their own home hours ago.

They were all a little depressed, sad over Giles leaving yesterday. He had tried to slip away without even saying goodbye. Luckily, Anya had found the note in enough time for them to get to the airport before his plane took off for England. They had debated telling him their plan about trying to bring back Buffy and Faith but had decided not to. Why get his hopes up, what if it didn't work?

Willow turned to Tara, silently thanking the Goddesses once again for getting her back. "What did you want to talk about?"

"You know how all along we lik like something wasn't right about their deaths? How something just didn't feel right, beside all the mystical stuff. How it didn't make sense that Faith would jump into the portal after Buffy. Especially since she had promised her that she would takre ore of Dawn if something happened." Tara paused looking at Willow; she knew she was rambling a little. Every time she saw that sad look, it broke her heart a little.

"Go on..." Willow wondered if Tara was going to try to talk her out of doing the spell. She was going to do it with or without their help. She would find three other people if she had too. But she was going to do it.

"Well something ah... Luc said struck a chord." Tara paused again trying to figure out how to explain, make sense out of her thoughts. "You know how I can see auras, you've been able to see them too, almost as well as I can. Especially Buffy and Faith's, because theirs is so strong and a little different because they're Slayers and soul-mates. That's what's been bothering me and I think on some level bothering you too." Tara knew that didn't make sense, sometimes she really hated her inability to get her point across.

"I'm not sure I understand Tara."

She hesitated she didn't want to bring that night up or the vision of the Chosen Two lying broken on the ground by the tower. "That night at the tower... When we saw their bodies... there was no aura around either of them..."

"Of course not they were dead. Why would there be...?" Willow snapped at her then instantly regretted it. "I'm sorry... it's just..."

Tara immediately moved over and gathered Willow into her arms. "No. No.. It's all right. But you see there should have been something even if they were dead. Like..." Tara struggled to find the word. "Like a shadow almost... a residual of their auras, their souls... But there was nothing... Like they were empty shells that never had any souls. I don't know how to explain it any better. But it was like they weren't Buffy and Faith but just copies of them... There should have been something..."

Willow closed her eyes and thought back to that night, visualizing the painful sight of the Slayers lying dead. She tried to see past her pain, feel past the pain, the sorrow she had felt, still felt. She remembered thinking that it wasn't them, couldn't be them, that it wasn't right. Remembered thinking on some very deep level that she felt absolutely no connection with either of the Slayers on the ground in front of them. Remembered thinking that she should, shouldn't she? She should feel some type of connection because of the Enjoining spell. Especially with Buffy, who she was not only connected to through the spell, but also because of the time she had entered into her mind the night Dawn had been taken by Glory. There was also the certainty that they were trapped somewhere and weren't at peace. Why was she so sure of that?

"You're right... Tara, is there a spell we can do that will help us find them on the spiritual plane?"

"Yes... we just need a few things."
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The sun was high up in the sky when they finished gathering everything they needed. They made a small circle of candles on the floor in front of the fireplace creating a protective circle. They had decided that Willow would be the one to look for them, well, actually Buffy since her connection was strongest with her. It wasn't really a spell like casting a fireball, but more of a meditative state that allowed the spirit or soul to wander into the realm of the dead. They made themselves comfortable in the circle and were just about to begin when the patiors ors burst open.

Angel came running in, the blanket over his hsmoksmoking, on fire. He ran past the witches and tossed it into the fireplace. The rest of the L.A. crew straggled in behind him. Looking a little frayed around the edges, they needed to get a bigger car. They had all worked each other's last nerve on the drive from L.A.

"You would think after two-hundred odd years, that you would know by now, that sunlight is bad for your complexion, ya bloody poof

Angel ignored Spike who had just entered the living room and turned to look at the witches. "Cordy had a vision," he said by way of explanation. "Did we interrupt something? It looks like you were just about to do a spell." Angel sighed in relief thinking they had stopped whatever it was they were supposed to stop. Then he noticed that there wasn't an Urn on the floor. This wasn't what they were supposed to stop.

Willow got up from the floor; she hugged Angel quickly in hello. "Why don't you sit down? You can tell us about Cordy's vision and we can tell you what's been happening here. What it is that we were about to do."

"Oh good! Willow's going to tell a story!" Anya said as she and Xander came in through the open patio doors.
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Willow was once again within the protective circle. She closed her eyes, relaxed into the meditative state and let herself, her soul, find the connection that she shared with Buffy.

They were all scattered around the room, quiet, still. They had decided to wait until the witches were finished to pursue Cordy's vision. Tara watched Willow intently; she saw a slight shimmering, then a movement in the aura that surrounded her lover. She nodded to the others; Willow had found what she was looking for.
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Angel had been standing by the stairs, preferring not to sit. He watched them intently; he knew he would not be able to wait. Something was telling him not to wait. It had been almost twenty-four hours since Cordy had her vision, and as the hours had passed, he increasingly felt like they needed to move faster. Like time was running out. He waited until he saw Tara's nod then silently he slipped up the stairs, heading for the Chosen Two's bedroom.
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Faith woke up and hour or so after they had fallen asleep in the bathtub. She lifted Buffy up out of the water, whispering to her softly when Buffy murmured a sleepy protest. She sat Buffy on the side of the tub, quickly dried her off, while Buffy clung loosely to her around the waist, her head resting in the crook of Faith's neck.

She picked Buffy up again, walked over to the bed, pulled down the thick soft comforter and deposited Buffy on the mattress pulling the comforter back up over her. She gently brushed the hair off Buffy's face, leaned down and tenderly kissed her on the forehead. Silently she thanked the Fates for giving them this respite from Glory's hell.

She went and let the water out of the tub and dried herself off. She threw a few more logs on the fire, then crawled into the bed beside her mate who was already sound asleep again. The last thing Faith felt before she fell into a deep sleep herself was Buffy reaching for her and pulling her close.

Buffy mumbled restlessly in her sleep. She pulled Faith closer to her, needing to feel her comfort, her warmth.

Faith pulled the comforter higher up over them, still sleeping herself. She felt Buffy's agitation and ran soothing circles over her back. Even in her own dream state, she knew that it was important that Buffy not wake up. In her sleep, Faith followed where Buffy led.
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Willow drifted, following the connection she shared with Buffy. She felt her spirit lift, leave her body, she was calling out for Buffy softly without words, seeking the Slayer's help in finding her. She began to move with purpose, faster, and felt as her spirit began to take almost a solid-like state. It was the same, but not the same, as when snterntered Buffy mind. But the connection seemed to be more. Were they both here?

She blinked once or twice in confusion, then everything came into focus. Her eyes grew wide with horror when she saw she was standing in a room that Vamp-Willow would have fallen in love with.
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Angel moved quickly down the hallway towards the bedroom, his demon urging him to move faster. He too felt it; felt that time was growing short. Angel hesitated a second before he opened the door. He stepped over the threshold, and was almost overwhelmed by the presences of both of them and their combined scent that clung to the room. His mind screaming in anguish over the loss of them, who he realized now, were his Anmchara, the Celtic name for soul-friend. His Anmchara the combination of close friends, spiritual centers, and mentors; they transcended sex or sexuality, and even death. It was built on deep friendship, trust and affection. He was theirs and they were his.

He moved swiftly across the room and pulled the backpack out from under the bed.
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She heard someone calling her, calling her in the same way that up until now only her mate had been able to. She responded to the call, helping the other to find her way. Buffy drifted closer. As she did, she felt the fear coming back. She knew where she was heading. She didn't want to go and she whimpered in fear in her sleep. The call to go grew louder, more urgent, she needed to do this. She ignored her fear and drifted further, feeling her spirit begin to take almost solid form.

She opened her eyes and found herself in a room she had become all too familiar with over the last few months. She shrunk back in fear; she didn't want to be here. God she didn't want to be here!

She felt the comforting arms of her mate slide around her from behind. Her mate pulled her to her gently, and leaned down and whispered in her ear, "It's okay B... we're not really here..."
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Willow spun around, and nothing could have prepared her for the horror of the sight of the Chosen Two.

'Oh Goddess NO!'

"Buffy? Faith?"

"Willow?"

"What... oh my god... what... where..." She couldn't even form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence.

"Good to see you too Red," both Slayers' chuckled at Willow's I-so-can't-believe-you-made-a-joke look.

"Oh Goddess, who did this to you? Where are we? How the fuck did we, you get here? How... how......?"

Buffy crinkled her brow thinking, things were a little fuzzy, she looked up at Faith who returned her puzzled look. They both knew that none of them could stay here long like this. She would know. She would feel it.

"Um..." Buffy stopped afraid even to say her name. Her instincts telling her if she said, even thought her name, it would be like invoking her. A shudder went through her and she felt it go through Faith. Then the words seemed to form on their own in both the Slayers' minds.

"The Key knows..."

"The Soul hold's the key..."

"And the Two will open and hold the door..."

"The Fallen knows the way..." The Slayers finished together.

"What?" A riddle? They had to be kidding. Didn't they? But they looked just as confused as she felt.

"Time to go... Can't stay here... Not safe Wills... Not safe for any of us..." They felt the pull to leave and began to drift back towards the warmth of the temporary safe-haven of the Fates domain.

Willow felt the pull to leave herself. She waited, watched them as they began to fade. She saw their auras, their souls that surrounded their bruised, beaten, battered bodies.

And she knew...
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Anpullpulled the book out of the bag. It was the book they had used when they went in search of Cordy in Plyea. The one with all the spells to open the portals to other dimensions. What good was this? What was this supposed to tell them? He flipped through the pages scanning them faster than any human could; hoping something would jump out at him. He found nothing, he growled in anger under his breath. Frustrated he threw the backpack from him as he started to make his way towards the door.

The contents of the bag flew from it; something caught him out of the corner of his eye. He turned and watched as the lifting gloves tumbled through the air in slow motion. Flipping over and over as they fell towards the floor. That was it! That was what had been bothering him!

And he knew...
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Buffy and Faith both sat up at the same time wide-awake.

"Did we? Did it... Were we?" They said over each other in a rush to ask the other. They locked eyes with each other, and smiles grew on both their faces.

"They know..." They said together as they rose from the bed and walked towards the door.

"It time that we find..." Buffy began as she opened the door.

"...out what we need to know..." Faith finished as they left the bedroom.
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Angel hit the bottom step and ran into the living room just as Willow rose and stepped out of the protective circle.

"They're not dead!" Both shouted at the same time.

The L.A. crew and the rest of the Scooby gang, including Spike, who was now a member, looked back and forth between Willow and Angel. Their faces a mixture of hope, sorrow, joy, and want.

"See I told you."

"So you did..." James smiled at Gary, his arm going around Dawn who had begun to cry quietly.

"Willow? Angel?" Dawn whispered softly from the open doors.

Everyone whipped around towards the open doors. "Who the hell are you?" Angel snarled.

"Hey easy there! Don't go all game-boy face on us... you either." Gary said and looked pointedly at first Angel, then Spike. "We're here to help..."

"That's right... We're all here to help the Chosen Two."

Everyone whipped around towards the kitchen, where the new e hae had come from.

The Prince of Darkness smiled at them from his perch on the counter. "I think it's time to bring the Slayers home."
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...I watched with glee while your kings and queens fought for ten decades for the Gods they made ~ I shouted out "Who killed the Kennedy's?" when after all it was you and me ~ Pld tod to meet you hope you guess my name ~ But what's puzzling you is the nature of my game... - The Rolling Stones
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Continued in Chapter XXVI – Enjoy the Silence