harsens_rob (harsens_rob) wrote in spanderverse,
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Battling with a God, Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Legal stuff, don't own characters, haven't made any money, this is for entertainment purposes, no profit earned, lawyers go away. –kisses-

Emails are welcome as are honest reviews. I respond to all correspondence.

POV: Shifts Perspective

Spoiler Alert: There are tidbits from past episodes and especially the Spanderverse series.

Notes: Story number Nineteen in the Spanderverse-universe, following “Songs of Pain and Comfort”. Everything from the television series through the defeat of Adam also occurred as depicted, in the Spanderverse.

People’s thoughts are depicted in italics. You’ll find emphasis depicted with an underline.

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Battle with a God

Ch 16 – Power

 

Xander limped out of one of the examination rooms on the first floor of Sunnydale General. Behind him, a young intern scowled, displeased. Xan had been given the usual rigmarole about observation and the ‘against my professional advice’ lecture. He’d already heard the same tune when trying to get Anya signed out. With a role of his eyes, he’d insisted that he’d leave right now if the doctor didn’t produce the proper form to sign himself out while leaving the medicos liability-free.

 

Down the hallway and near the exit door, stood Spike. He was smoking, of course, and just as naturally wasn’t concerned with his air pollution drifting further inside where the sick people were.

 

“Hey, Platinum, you need to pay attention to the signs on the wall,” Xan said as he walked up. He pointed to the ‘No Smoking’ sign in red hanging not a foot away from the vampire.

 

“Saw it. I figured it was only applicable to those with a pulse,” he smirked. “How are you?”

 

“Ready for duty, let’s get to the Box. Any word on how Buffy’s doing or where Giles went in such a huff?”

 

“Your cell hasn’t rung,” said Spike as he handed the instrument back to its owner.

 

“Then let’s head over to the store.”

 

“Xander, maybe you should sit this out. You’re hurt.”

 

“I will say this one time,” Xander replied, “And one time only. I fight for and beside the Slayer. I always have and I always will. I will not be pushed to the sidelines every time things get dangerous now, just because you suddenly realize how hot I am. Now, let’s go.”

 

“Yes, sir, Your Royal ‘Hotness’,” Spike grinned.

 

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At the Magic Box, entrance was gained by the side alley door with a simple spell from Willow. They ushered their charges in. Buffy sat obediently on the floor, her back resting against the wall. She was staring off into space. Two large tears hovered as if they were defying gravity on her lower lids, refusing to fall.

 

Anya was muttering that the time was near. It was all that Tara could do to restrain her from running out into the darkness. Already she sported a red mark over her left eye where Anya had gotten in a strike. The woman was nearly wild and refused to sit on the sofa where Tara tried to settle her.

 

“Quiesco,” Willow snarled at her.

 

Anya immediately collapsed onto the sofa, falling into a mystical sleep.

 

Willow! Magic is dangerous in her condition,” Tara complained as she checked Anya’s pulse.

 

“I don’t have time for her crap,” Willow said tensely. “Glory has Dawn and Buffy is out of action.”

 

When Tara turned to glare at her girlfriend, she saw her eyes glow red and gasped. “Will? Will, I need you to calm down, okay?”

 

“There’s so much to do,” Willow fidgeted sounding stressed. “I’m not sure what to do first.” From her fingernails, red electricity buzzed around her fingers, unnoticed by her.

 

“Willow, what have you done to yourself,” Tara said. She’d seen the dark magicks that Willow had used against Glory with her own eyes. She wanted to believe they’d gotten lucky, but obviously its effects on Willow were just now being seen due to the stress she was under.

 

“Will, get a hold of yourself,” she said sharply, nodding at Willow’s hands.

 

“Oh… oh, wow. Uh, thanks, baby. I guess I was getting a little wigged there for a minute.”

 

“We’ll talk about it later. Right now, you need to take a break from magic. Let what you’ve absorbed from that damned book get purged from you. We can do a purification ritual once we’re past Glory and Dawn is safe.”

 

“Y-yeah, okay,” Willow nodded. “But right now, I need to help Buffy.”

 

“Maybe we have some smelling salts somewhere around here?”

 

“Maybe, but I think we need the more direct approach.”

 

“Like what,” Tara asked as she covered Anya with a sooty, but dry blanket.

 

“I’m going to go into Buffy’s mind,” Willow said. She was already prepared for Tara’s rejection of that idea.

 

“That’s risky and you’ve been exposed to dark magicks, Will. I should go,” Tara surprised her.

 

“Oh, uh, are you sure?”

 

“No. I’m scared. But we can’t win this without Buffy. Plus if we don’t help her, who knows if she’ll ever come out of this fugue state. And I’d rather you not be in Buffy’s head right now. I’ll go. We need three white candles. And I want you to back me up and make sure that I don’t get pulled into Buffy’s fantasies or fears.”

 

Willow hurried around the shop, grabbing candles from the floor without argument. She’d always wanted for Tara to find her own inner strength, and now the blonde witch was showing it off in spades. She got lucky in that the book of matches in the drawer of the counter managed to not be ruined.

 

When they were ready, Tara sat in a Lotus position and took a few deep breaths. As she released them, she hummed a soft tune, meditating into the right frame of mind. In the meantime, Willow sat behind her, hands on her shoulders. She also closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, coming into contact with Tara’s aura.

 

Tara’s eyes shot open, but her sight was blank. She was inside Buffy’s head now.

 

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Giles rushed into his apartment, not bothering to shut the door behind him. He was deeply angry, not at Glory particularly, but at the Fates that seemed to be conspiring to force him to kill someone he’d become fond of. Yes, she didn’t start off as a person, only an object. But now she was a living, breathing, growing human being. He couldn’t extinguish her innocent life over something that she wasn’t responsible for, and yet, if it was her or the world, what was the alternative?

 

To beat Glory, once and for all. And to do that, Giles opened the secreted chest and hauled out the book. Finding the spell he needed he recited the words without hesitation.

 

Out of doors, the weather quickly turned to darkened skies. The moon was blotted out by angry clouds and ominous thunder boomed. The wind picked up and plucked leaves and small branches from the trees sending them spiraling out into the night.

 

Back in the Magic Box, Willow shuddered as she felt… something… but she steadfastly kept her mind on what she needed to do: take care of her girl while she, in turn, helped Buffy.

 

On the way to the Magic Box, Spike looked up at the angering sky and gave it the evil eye. He could feel something dark and violent breaking over Sunnydale. When he looked at Xander, he could see the young man felt it also.

 

“We need to hurry,” Xander said. Spike didn’t argue.

 

In the small bedroom the spell’s energies and the Turkish alphabet flowed up off the page. They wound around each other, merging into two streams of dark black energy. The streams then traveled to Giles’ still reciting mouth and entered. Gagging out the last of the recitation, he felt the darkness, the need for blood-shed settle deeply in his gut somewhere. He could swear he felt his spirit shrinking from the darkness he’d invited into himself and tears flowed from his eyes.

 

But his mouth grinned maliciously. Standing he took a moment to appreciate the seduction of the power he now inhabited.

 

The power that inhabits you! Don’t forget that Rupert, or you’re lost and doomed. Focus on the goal… Glory.

 

Giles narrowed his black eyes and his face set in a look that promised death and destruction. Around him the room shook, plaster fell from the walls and the light fixtures in the room exploded in shards of broken bulbs. The damage followed behind him as he headed out the door.

 

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At Glory’s penthouse, the impromptu celebration and champagne halted suddenly as the weather outside turned to stormy in minutes. The minions looked around fearfully, while even Glory felt… perturbed… by something in the air.

 

“Looks like we celebrated a little too soon,” she said. “Take the brat to the tower site. I’ll join you later after I kill the stupid Red Witch once and for all.”

 

She could feel powerful magic and knew it was coming for her. Obviously, the spat at the college wasn’t enough to convince Buffy’s gal-pal to back off.

 

Around her, the imps had gathered the still passed out Dawn. They were rushing toward the exit as if their asses were on fire.

 

“Wait! Don’t forget my jewel case,” she called. Ten minutes later she watched the wind and the lightning from her window. “Bring it on, bitch,” she muttered.

 

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Giles stood out in the pelting rain, unconcerned with the storm raging about town. He glared at the building and whatever part of him remained Rupert Giles had the presence of mind to evacuate the building. Using a smidgen of infused power he tripped the fire alarms within the structure, at the same time disabling the automatic notification to the fire department. He didn’t want to kill any except for Glorificus, the Arrogant.

 

Once he saw the stream of people begin to run out of the building (pushed by a thought projection from him to ensure maximum retreat) he started strolling across the parking lot of the condominium. He could sense Glory waiting for him in her suite. He smiled coldly, all ‘Ripper’ now.

 

In her penthouse, Glory began to pace. Not nervously, she was quick to remind herself, for she was a God, after all. No, she was just… impatient… yes, she was impatient to get this over with so she could oversee her tower’s construction. When the fire alarm began to go off, she smiled confidently in the mirror to herself.

 

“Finally.”

 

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End Chapter 16

 

Tags: battling with a god, btvs, buffy, fanfiction, harsens-rob, spander, spanderverse
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