Author note: Thanks to all at the end of this long, long chapter. Enjoy and comment!
Chapter Fourteen—Got Your Back
"Would you stop that?"
Faith pounded on the door until her hands were bloody, again. The little Watcher just wouldn't stop talking. The only way she could think of blocking out his insistence that she stop was to keep hitting the impenetrable door, harder. She really didn't like being locked up.
"It's not the strength of the door," Sam reminded her.
"I know that. Don't you think I know that?" she growled back, hoping that he would just back off.
"Then let's just think this through so we can get out of here."
There was no getting out of here unless by some miracle someone came down to these dungeons or good old Wes figured out that she hadn't skipped out on him and figured out where she was. Fat chance. No matter how much she tried, everything kept crashing down on her and Wes. This was no exception.
The irony that she was trapped in a dungeon underneath the Watchers' Council definitely wasn't lost on her. If and when she got out of there, there would be no mercy for Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, the elder. It had to be his fault.
Looking down at her hands, Faith wondered why on earth they didn't hurt. She wiped the blood off on her pants, not worrying about that twist. Every punch, every bruise on her body at the moment didn't hurt, at all. So the bastard did something else to her, in addition to catching her unawares. He was going down.
Baby Watcher Sam had been trying to find a way out for hours, ever since the two of them woke up. Faith estimated that they had been trapped for at least a day. With the way things had been going between her and Wes, she thought he'd right about now be concluding that she bailed on him. Did she care? Of course. She'd worked too damn hard to give up on them now. Did he care?
One last punch, Faith slid to the floor in defeat.
"They'll figure out we're gone. It'll take time."
"No, they won't," Faith disagreed, looking around at her stuff thrown all over with a few male additions in between. Whoever had put the whammy on them had also figured out that taking their stuff would make it look like the two of them had run off together.
"There's no water, no food. By the time they figure out we're here, it'll be too late."
Pessimistic Faith looked at the young man in front of her. She regretted stopping to talk to him. He had been concerned at her hand dripping with blood after her confrontation with Wes. After telling Sam to mind his own business, he had followed her for a bit, trying to convince her to go to the infirmary. It was around that time she stumbled, her eyesight getting blurry. She watched as he fell over before her, then two guys rushing in, putting hoods over their heads. Faith had tried to fight, only to get a syringe buried in her neck. She had definitely felt that.
Sam paced the room for the next hour, acting like he was having a conversation with himself. The bleeding had stopped on Faith's knuckles, the blood drying crusty and itchy. Her hips burned from kicking the door though. She wasn't totally numb, not yet at least.
"Is there a way for you to contact Wesley?"
Faith burst out laughing. "Don't you think I would just be sitting here right now if there was?"
The pacing began anew. It really started to piss her off. He abruptly stopped in front of her and pointed.
"Think, Faith. Is there a way? I've been reading about Slayer/Watcher connections, history and such. Sometimes there's such a strong connection, a Watcher can literally communicate with his or her slayer without words. Is there something we can try?"
He was crazy. Sounded like some kind of ESP thing. There was no way they had that type of connection. No way. It's not like they had assigned Wes to her just because they were the right fit. Daddy had everything to do with Wes getting the job. It definitely wasn't his training at the time.
"Do you want to get out of here or what?"
Sam had pushed her too far. Slamming him against the wall, Faith held him up by his neck, feet dangling a few inches off the ground.
"You are really starting to piss me off, ya know?"
She let him dangle a few more seconds, and then dropped him unceremoniously to the ground.
"It's worth a try. We don't have anything else to go on," he croaked out, holding his neck.
Faith leaned headfirst against the cold, damp wall, hoping that it would cool her aching head. She didn't want to look at Sam again. All she wanted was to escape this prison, to see Wes again and tell him how damn sorry she was for acting like a bitch. Placing her hands next to her head, she decided that it would be worth a try. Concentration was never one of her strong suits, but using one of the calming techniques that Willow had taught her, Faith focused on one thing and one thing only: Wesley.
It hurt. It hurt so much that she crumbled to the ground, clutching her head, hoping that the pain went away. Her breathing stopped.
"Where the hell is she?" Wesley asked Willow, pacing Giles's office.
His father and two henchmen had been taken to the conference room down the hall, guarded by at least a dozen slayers and a few Watchers. No use letting them escape. Something was up, they were planning something. What was it? Why did they show their hand now?
If Faith had been present, she would throw out that a little torture might loosen their tongues. Wesley was not against using that technique in this instance.
"Her stuff is gone. There wasn't even a shampoo bottle left. Looks like she cleared out of there in a hurry. Did you know that Faith is a slob?"
Yeah, he knew that Faith wasn't the best housekeeper in the world. He was lucky if she picked up her dirty clothes. Now thinking about her habits, he wondered what in hell was going on? He knew she was not happy, knew that she had wanted a change. Now that he had calmed down and he could think about the situation, something just didn't click.
As he headed out the door, Wesley knew of only one way to find out if Faith did indeed skip out on him. Charging down the hall, he hurried to her room. Willow was a little slow on the uptake, but followed at a distance. Pushing the door open, he looked around at the mess she had left. Bed covers were askew, towels were on the floor, a chair was tipped over. It still smelled like Faith.
They had decided that sharing a room would not be appropriate, although they had spent nearly every waking minute together. She had spent just as much time in his room as he did in hers. Crouching down, he searched underneath her bed, pulling out a box. She didn't even know he knew about her little stash of trinkets.
Opening the box, he saw the few things that Faith had managed to keep over the years, a few photos of her youth, a few mementos, things that she cherished. She would never leave this behind.
"What's that?" Willow said from behind him.
"Faith didn't leave of her own free will," he announced as he got up from his crouched position.
As he did, to turn to look at Willow with the box in his hands, pain so intense hit him head on. The box fell to the ground, spilling its contents over the floor. The bed seemed to rush up to meet him way too fast. It didn't matter to him right then when it was all he could do to keep breathing.
Willow's touch brought him back to himself, if just a little. He managed to whisper to her, to tell her he knew exactly where Faith was.
"Dungeon," he whispered into Willow's ear.
"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," Cordelia whispered as she watched what was going on. Yeah, she was breaking the rules. She wasn't supposed to be watching Wes and Faith. It was just that Angel wasn't exactly in a sharing mood lately and her moods were anything but happy. The two of them were a pair, which meant that depressed Angel wasn't hanging out with Wes and Faith that much anymore. What she wouldn't do for Angel and Buffy to get back together again.
Cordelia gasped a little at that thought. She never in her right mind would want the two lovebirds to get back together. She wanted Angel for herself. Of course, being corporally challenged, it didn't look like that would happen ever again. Warning Angel of the impending doom was her job now, job be damned.
She immediately popped into Angel's room, only to find him not there. Dammit, where did he go? Hearing the shower running, Cordy flung open the door to find Angel just sitting there, totally dressed, soaking wet. Holy shit, indeed. He was worse than she thought.
"Angel, sweetie, I need your help now. Faith and Wes are in a load of trouble. Get up."
Angel slowly acknowledged her presence, shaking the water out of his eyes. Even drenched, he still could make her dead heart beat faster. Snap out of it, she said to herself. Time to save the world again. Cordy didn't think she was being overdramatic on this. If Faith did die, it might just mess up all the slayers in the world. It was just a hunch, but usually her hunches were pretty dead on, especially when being followed up by those damn visions.
Angel stood up, walked toward her, dripping from his wet clothes and lifted his hand to her cheek. Yes, he could touch her. He was the only one who could touch her. As soon as he touched her, she knew. This changed everything. Oh shit, what could have happened in a few hours to change it all?
"You're human," she gasped as she felt the warmth from him that she had never felt before.
"I don't understand," Angel responded back, so obviously in awe of what had happened to him.
"We can't deal with this right now. If you don't help Faith and Wes, they're both gonna die and I can't let that happen. Faith's in the dungeon. Please go."
A look of recognition, of regret, of calm came over Angel all at once. He wouldn't turn to dust in the sunlight, or so she thought. What else had he lost the ability to do?
"Go," she commanded.
Angel turned and ran out of the room as fast as he could.
"Cordelia, what's going on and why am I here too?" Fred asked from behind her. "I just saw Angel take off down the hall. I don't understand. One moment I was outside your door, ready to pound it down, the next minute I'm standin' here. I don't feel so great," Fred said as she held her stomach.
It all clicked together in her mind. Whoever was doing this had screwed them royally. They had put the team at a significant disadvantage. If Wes and Faith fell, if they didn't survive whatever was happening to them, then Team Angel would crumble.
"We need to go help Angel, sweetie. Just listen to me. No matter what happens in the next few minutes, just realize this. They can hurt you. Just remember that. Be careful."
Cordelia took Fred's hand and ran.
Spike eyed Roger Wyndam-Pryce up and down, waiting for the ponce to run for it. But he didn't. He just sat there, little smirk on his face, like he was king of the world or something. What Spike wouldn't do to wipe that smirk off his face. The slayer girls were all on the ready, their watchers standing there, milling about. Something wasn't quite right though. He couldn't put his finger on it. Explanations weren't always his strong suit.
Buffy stormed into the room, looking like something the cat dragged in. She was supposed to be in Italy, staying with Dawn. Dawn was right behind her, dragging some kid with long hair and surly look on his face.
"You want to tell me what is going on? I get here and all hell has broken loose," Buffy shouted.
"You're all here. Now my plan can be put into place," Roger announced, standing at attention.
It was never good when the villain in the piece made that kind of statement, Spike knew. He knew this because he'd used that wording too many times to count. It was then that he realized that the "kid" behind Dawn was Connor, Angel's son. His memories came flooding back into place. It was almost like one of those bubbles had popped over his head. All he knew about Connor was the kid was super strong. Angel hadn't been that sharing, but he knew that he and Darla had a son.
Only he didn't move from his spot. Buffy looked into his eyes, like she was hoping something hadn't happened to him. He'd seen that look a few times before. She crossed the room, grabbed him and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. It had been so long since they'd even touched, it kind of startled him.
"Oh no," she cried. "I was right."
"No, I was right," Dawn countered. "Crap."
"You're human, Spike," Buffy told him as she looked into her eyes.
"Bloody hell," Spike answered, knowing full well that she was right. "Bloody hell."
He knew exactly was responsible for his change. Even though his status was different, his mind was the same. Before Roger could move, Spike had him pinned to the floor. No longer with super human strength, it didn't mean he couldn't fight.
Angel had encountered beasts, demons, vampires, hell, even evil humans along the way in his journey over the last few hundred years. He was now what he had wanted to be for so long. Human. Cordy was right. He was human, which meant he was more vulnerable now than he had ever been before. Having not tested his strength, he was afraid that he wouldn't be in time to help Faith. He was able to avoid all contact with everyone else, making his way down to the basement part of the Watchers' Council unseen. It wasn't easy since it seemed like the place was crawling with guys with guns. If you can't use demons, why not use special ops with night vision? At least his stealthiness was still intact.
Angel knew of only two cells down in the dungeon. They had kept Mark in one of those until he had escaped. That door was still flung open, half off its hinges. She had to be in the other one. Its door was shut tight to the outside world. He cringed knowing that he had to open it. As it so happened, the keys were right there. Angel just hoped he didn't find Faith dead already.
There were at least twenty keys on that ring, all different sizes and shapes and no way to tell which one fit. Oh crap, what if he tried one and it sealed the room shut for good? He had read way too much Harry Potter, he mused. When he tried the first key, he noticed that instead of opening the lock, it slid another bolt shut, or that's what it sounded like. Oh boy, was he screwed.
Cordy and Fred came barreling around the corner.
"Work fast. Company's coming," Fred stated, looking back over shoulder.
"I tried the first key and it slid another lock into place."
"Oh crap," Cordelia announced, watching around the corner for the bad guys to appear.
Fred grabbed the ring from him, examining all the keys one by one. Angel touched Fred's shoulder, hoping against hope that this was the real Fred. She was here. Cordy was here. He was human. Had the world gone mad?
"OK, they all have symbols. I think I might be able to read them. They have to be used in sequence to work."
Angel had already started the process. They were so screwed. What if he had used the wrong key?
Willow's hands tingled. She couldn't worry about why that was happening right that instant. Wesley was possibly dying on the bed right before her. Touching Wesley's chest so she could shock him out of whatever was happening to him, she noticed that nothing was happening. Willow cried out in bewilderment. The tingling had meant only one thing: her magical powers were tapped. Good, old-fashioned medical training was needed instead of her zapping power.
Wesley's eyes were rolled back inside his head and he certainly wasn't breathing all that well. So Willow did the only thing she could think of to save him. She was never so glad to have received training in mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. It wasn't working though. He had completely stopped breathing, eyes staring directly at her, blaming her for failing. Willow screamed with anger.
"No one steals my power," she shouted to the air. Her fingers tingled again.
Giles rushed into the room just as Willow felt that familiar rush of adrenaline race through her veins. She wasn't denying herself the power this time, not this time when it could mean they all could die.
"Willow, no," Giles rushed her, tackling her off the bed.
The two of them wrestled until Giles had her pinned to the floor.
"Giles, let me go. He's dying," Willow screeched at the top of her lungs.
He, for once, listened to her, helping her to her feet. In passing a mirror, she saw what Giles saw. Her hair was black as coal, eyes the same. There weren't any veins popping out because, hey, not a good look for her at all. She could control these magicks, they wouldn't control her. And they weren't hers either, but that didn't matter at the moment. All that mattered was Wes.
Placing her hands on his chest, Willow knew for a fact now that they were under attack. She also knew exactly who was to blame. She'd need all their help to challenge whoever was responsible. Only no one else had any power. Wes stirred under her hands, now breathing a little more normal. She was so glad she'd been taught to steal someone else's power. Score one for the good guys.
"Faith," Wesley screamed as he came to.
Fred finally figured out the sequence of keys needed to open the door. Luck would have it that Angel actually picked the right first key. As she inserted the other eight to make nine in total, she still marveled at the fact that she was alive, heart beating, blood pumping, head aching. She could feel, see, touch. Why wasn't she screaming for joy?
As the last lock clicked, she looked back at Cordy, who looked to be hyperventilating. Angel threw the door open to find some guy trying to help Faith.
"She's not breathing," the guy announced as they all ran into the room.
Angel grabbed Faith from him, shaking her a little harder than necessary.
"Faith, wake up now," Angel cried to the limp form in his arms.
Cordy sunk to the floor, hand over her mouth.
"Angel, CPR," Fred told him as she tried to take Faith's limp form from him.
"I tried," the other man said, hovering over them.
Fred didn't listen to either one of them and made Angel put her on the ground. The other guy helped her as Angel backed away a little. Fred wasn't getting any sign of life from Faith. Dammit was all she could think. Wesley would be devastated if Faith died.
And he found out pretty quickly what was happening when he raced into the room, Willow and Giles directly behind him. Fred was giving her mouth-to-mouth, but it just wasn't working. Wesley didn't even look at her as he pushed her away from Faith. He was shaking like a leaf. He knew, she thought. He knew.
Fred backed away, standing with Angel and Cordy.
"Willow," Wesley growled at the witch.
"It's too late," Willow told him.
Fred couldn't help but cry. She never wanted to see Wesley hurt. Never. This was so not fair to him.
Willow had somehow managed to defeat whatever dampening field that had been placed on the Watchers' Council building, so why couldn't he?
"You have better mojo than that," he could hear Cordelia in his head.
Oh, he knew that he did. He knew that if he concentrated hard enough, he could break through and summon more power than any of them combined. Did he want to? Would Faith approve?
"I can't let you go," he whispered in her ear, as the world came to a standstill around him.
Wesley looked around at all his friends, all that he had gained and lost in the last year. They were all here now, save Charles, who was still recuperating back in Los Angeles. They had all paid a heavy price for trying to save the world. Fred, Cordy, and many others had paid the ultimate price along with him. Angel was probably damaged beyond repair. Faith had just been hanging on by a thread.
Faith looked so peaceful lying on the cold ground of the cellar. It was dark and dank, not a place to die because of some lying scum, who needed to suffer. He had a choice to make. Or rather, Faith had a choice to make this time. He wouldn't keep her here against her free will. That had happened to him. It had turned out alright in the end, but he wasn't about to revive Faith from the dead just because he wanted her alive again. She needed to make that choice.
"Faith," he started, holding onto her hands. "I care about you deeply. But I know, deep down, if you want it all to end, then you must do what's right for you. But hear this, if you stay, we'll make it work."
Wesley truly didn't know if he could let her go. It had hurt too much when he lost Fred. He had been out of his mind when Illyria had taken over. This time, it probably would be too much. He still couldn't take the decision away from her.
"It's your choice," he told her, voice cracking.
Over his shoulder, he heard a noise, only to turn and see Faith next to him. She made her choice, he thought, heart breaking.
"You know, you always were a dumbass. Pretty smart dumbass though. What's a girl gotta do not to die around here?"
Wesley was confused. Here he was, holding Faith's cold hands in his, and looking at Faith right beside him.
"You don't want to die?" he questioned her.
"When have I wanted to die? Ok, strike that. Why do you think I'd leave all you crazy people here to run the show? Oh, by the way, Cordy and Fred are looking a little undead at the moment, Angel is warm, and my fucking slayer powers are all wonky. If you're not around with that big brain of yours to help us all figure this out, who will be?"
"The question on the floor was yours, Faith," Wesley reminded his slayer.
"Oh, yeah. What makes you think I'm gonna just roll over and die?"
With that, the world came rushing back, noise, smells, everything around him, bombarding him to the point where he wanted to put his hands over his ears. Only it wasn't his hands over his ears, they were Faith's hands.
"Hey, Watcherman. What the fuck did you just do?"
She was breathing, alive in his arms. He had no idea what he had done other than talk to her. "Faith," he swallowed, gathering her up in his arms.
She was home, in his arms, surrounded by his family. What more could he want in life?
"OK, someone want to tell me what in hell is going on?" Buffy asked from the door of the cell. "We got big trouble up top. Guys with guns. Have I told you how much I hate guys with guns?"
"I think we need to go hit something," Faith groaned from the ground. Of course, she was as weak as a kitten, so no hitting.
As he looked around the room, Wesley knew that they were outnumbered now. Faith was down and out, Angel looked a little less pale, as did Spike, and Buffy looked almost as bad as Faith. Cordy and Fred definitely did not belong there, but were. The only people who looked a little more normal were Giles and Willow, but only a little.
Cordy and Fred helped Angel up off the ground as Buffy and Spike leaned on each other. Everyone around him looked a little more human, more vulnerable than they ever had.
"What I wouldn't do for a Mountain Dew right now?" Spike flippantly said, making Angel growl long and low under his throat.
"We're essentially trapped," Giles noted as they all heard footsteps coming down the hall.
Dawn and Connor stepped out of the shadows, looking as youthful and somewhat cheerful as ever.
"Giles, you're so negative," Dawn told him as she tossed something on the ground.
A portal appeared out of nowhere.
"Cool," Connor approvingly told the girl. "We should probably abandon ship."
"What about all the other girls?" Giles asked as they all gathered at the portal's entrance.
"Their powers are gone, unfortunately. Right now, I figuring that there are no slayers," Willow announced. "We should probably leave," she now urged everyone.
Wesley didn't need any incentive to escape their potential tomb. Picking Faith up, he jumped through the portal, ending up in a field somewhere. They all made it through to who knows where, all shivering at the cold, night air.
"All those girls, all those lives," Giles groaned out, slumping against Willow for support.
"He doesn't think you have good mojo," Connor explained to Dawn.
"He never did," Dawn answered back. "Giles, they're right over there."
Wesley turned to see many people milling around in the dark, hugging, comforting each other. Baby slayers and potential watchers all sticking together was a sight to behold.
"You couldn't have landed us in Tahiti, somewhere warm. Bikinis," Connor asked Dawn as they started walking toward the large group off in the distance.
Dawn punched his arm in response.
"How do they know each other?" Angel looked at Cordelia, walking arm-in-arm with the rest of the group.
So, they didn't have a base of operations, there were potentially no more slayers in the world, his father had taken over one of the most important operations against evil, and they were out in the middle of nowhere.
"Oh, Dawn. Perfect spot. There's my cottage," Giles piped up.
Willow sighed heavily. "Do you have enough room for over a hundred people?"
"Well, not really. But we'll manage somehow."
Buffy snickered a little, with Dawn rolling her eyes in response.
Faith had gotten down out of Wesley's arms, walking next to him, occasionally touching arms as they walked slowly to join the others.
"Do you remember what happened, Faith?"
"Not much. This just really sucks. I know what it feels like to not have your slayer powers. But there's something else going on, Wes. Your girlfriend is alive and well. Congrats on that, by the way."
Wesley grabbed her hand in his, trying to reassure her that she mattered in his life. While he was glad to see Fred again, he wanted Faith to understand his feelings were definitely pointed in her direction, not to the former physicist.
He wished he could slow time down just like he had back in that dark dungeon, so the two of them could have a moment alone. Time was not on their side though. Stopping on the outside of the large group gathering, he turned Faith to look in her eyes. He could sense her apprehension, her wanting to run from the situation. But she was different now. He should have seen it earlier. The angular lines of her face, the determined set of her eyes, the stance of defiance that could only be Faith.
Instead of doing the right thing by joining the middle of the group to help Giles, Wes pulled on her arm, to get her away from the crowd. Let Giles and his group take care of the slayers and their watchers. He needed to take care of the one person in the world that meant everything to him.
Dawn watched them, mouth open. "Wow. When did this happen? How come no one tells me what happens around here?" she inquired of Buffy.
Faith just laughed as the two of them walked off into the distance, hand in hand. It was only when they reached a knarled, old tree that he stopped her.
"We runnin'?" Faith asked as she turned to face him.
"No. I do want to apologize."
"We both seem to be doing that a lot lately."
"I thought, I just thought…" He couldn't finish the sentence without his voice cracking.
"Yeah, well, you thought wrong. And I thought too much. So why don't we call it even."
Faith's eyes glowed in the midnight light, hair all tangled and matted, clothes filthy from spending a harrowing day down in the dungeon. Wesley didn't care one bit. As she leapt up to stare him eye-to-eye, he realized that even the distance they had walked, everyone still had turned to look at them. They couldn't hear the two of them speak, but they were pointing.
"We have an audience."
"Don't drop me then. Wouldn't look good to the kids."
Faith's legs didn't have the power behind them that they normally did, but she still crushed herself to his front, making him a bit uncomfortable but happier than ever. Crushing his mouth over hers, he heard a few cheers off in the distance, then shut it all out. She was here, he was here. That's all that mattered. Of course, there was so much to figure out, so much to plan for. That didn't matter. Faith was the only thing that mattered in this world. His father could wait his turn. Wesley's fingers traveled up into Faith's hair, tangling with in the thickness of it.
He heard Spike yell, "Get a room" off in the distance. Room? With over a hundred potentials and their watchers? It would be some time before they would be alone.
"You sure you don't want to blow this taco stand?" Faith reminded him as she shifted a little, making him groan.
"There must be an abandoned rock around here somewhere."
Faith laughed with glee. "In the next county, maybe."
Wesley finally lost his grip on Faith, not so gently setting her down on the ground. But she didn't mind at all. Wrapping her arms around his middle, she buried her head against his chest.
"Um, Cordy. This is different."
Damn right it was different. The Powers must have had enough of her meddling and sent her back to the land of the living. Or Lilah had taken over and booted her out. Either scenario wasn't exactly what she had planned. Nor was the fact that Mr. McBroodypants was now human. And he was shivering in the night air.
"Kinda," was all she could say.
"This is really freaking me out," Angel answered, making Cordy laugh just a little.
"Wesley and Faith seem cozy," Angel babbled as she watched the scene unfold before her.
"Yeah. Cozy." Not like they'd ever be that way. Besides, Angel would probably drop her to the ground with not having those vampire skills anymore.
She thought he'd never ask, and snuck her hand into his. The weirdest thing was the warmth. His hand was always cool to the touch. He shivered a little more, clothes still damp from his freak-out shower.
"Yep. It could change tomorrow, you know?" This was not what she wanted to talk about, but they had to face reality. She could go back to where she came from and he could burst into flames at the first sign of sun.
"Do you want it to change?"
Did she want to be a Power, rule over lots of people, be in charge girl, help people? Hell, she was already doing that before she bit the dust, no pun intended.
"Why would I want it to change?" she blurted out.
Angel smiled her way, that goofy, little grin of his. "I should probably find out why Connor is here, with Dawn."
The two watched as Connor hung on Dawn's every word, following her around like a lost puppy.
"Oh geez, he's got it bad, doesn't he?"
"Like father, like son," Angel agreed.
Roger Wyndam-Pryce was not pleased at all. With all the power he had amassed, all the witches at his disposal, he still was not in control of the slayers. Indeed, they had all been stripped of their power at the moment. He needed control of them for his plan to succeed. He also needed to dispose of THE slayer so his plan could be completed. With Faith's death, everything would be in place. He could rid the world of the demon evil that lurked. World leaders would bow at his feet. He would be in control of it all.
The opening of the portals around the area thwarted his plans, but only for a while. He'd definitely find out how that had taken place and make sure it couldn't again. His son would see why he was the person to be in control of the Watchers' Council. Everyone and everything would fall into place. If he had to kill his only son to do it, then so be it. He was expendable, especially now since his loyalties lie with Faith and his other so-called friends, instead of with his real family.
He would sap the power his son had managed to obtain, enslave the witch Willow and torture Rupert Giles just for fun. Slaughtering the vampires Angel and Spike he would take great pleasure in. He would spare no mercy for the slayers though. He could always make more.
Author notes: Holy moly, that's the end, for now. I know I left it open-ended, but sort of an ending. I didn't give anyone any closure, but complicated their lives even more. I hated when Joss did that.
I do hope you all have had fun reading this. I certainly have had fun writing this. I am so glad to be able to complete this portion of the series. I have started on another part because I had so much with this.
To: Imzadi, who has kept up with this from the beginning. Thanks so much for the encouragement. You're the best. Blackwater Pearl, keep reading! There will be another part, coming soon. Thanks so much for keeping up. Umino-gaara, I'm finished so you can catch up now! Thanks so much for sticking with it. Ob5idian, I know I didn't have Fred and Lindsay get together at the end, but there's always time for them in another part of the series. And to everyone else who have been following this since 2005: Thanks so much for reading and being patient with me. I started writing in for another series, which was fun, but not as much fun as the Angelverse. I do love these characters so much. Have fun and keep reading the many great authors on fanfiction and other sites. We really do appreciate you.