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Authors: Magan and Askita
Warnings: Character Death. Some aspects of Religion involved.
Disclaimer: We own nothing. It all belongs to the genius Joss Whedon.

A/N: Thanks to Kristi. This wouldn't have sounded as good without your help.
A/N2: So far, we hope to take this into Buffy season 8 and Angel season 6.
A/N3:Script comes from Buffyworld.com

Chapter 1-

The stage had been set, complete with pouring rain, lightening and a fate worse than death, as Angel ran down the alley behind the Hyperion, a large sword heavy in his hands. He came to a stop facing the chain-link fence at the end of the alley his eyes darting around looking for any sign of the others. There was none.

‘I hope they make it out ok.’ The sky thundered above him, releasing another torrent of heavy rain. Chocolate eyes frantically searched the alley again, hoping that his friends… his family had survived by any means.

“Boo!” Spike walked out from the shadows, rain pelting his shoulders, blood staining his face.

“Anyone else?”

Spike shook his head. “Not so far. You feel the heat?”

Angel nodded, taking a deep, all be it unneeded, breath, exhaustion kicking in. He would not quit now. There was just too much to make up for this time, entirely too damn much. “It’s coming.”

“Finally got ourselves a decent brawl,” Spike said, looking up, rain pelting down his face, the droplets sliding down over the sharp planes in rivulets.

Gunn had been running down the street his homemade battle-axe clenched in his hands. To say that he was glad to see Angel and Spike alive and well was an understatement. As much as he hated to admit it, he had grown used to the duo. “Damn! How did I know the fang boys would pull through?” he said, drawing in a deep breath. Angel took off after Gunn, Spike close on his heels, Gunn his confidence fading a bit weaken. “You’re lucky we’re on the same side, ‘cause I was on fire tonight,” Gunn said lackadaisically. “My game was tight.”

Gunn collapsed as Angel and Spike reached him. Spike’s hands grasped his right arm, Angel caught his left, barely in time and help him sit down. Spike had quickly taken notice of Gunn’s seeping wound. ‘Doesn’t look good, mate.’ “You’re supposed to wear the red stuff on the inside, Charlie boy.”

Looking down at his wound, Gunn knew it was bad, he could feel his strength draining, but he isn’t worried about himself anymore. He knew that he’d done all he could in this final fight. “Any word on Wes?”

Spike shook his head, Illyria jumped down from the chain-lank fence moving to stand next to Angel, sadness evident in her face. “Wesley’s dead,” She said sullenly.

At the sad news, Gunn cried for his fallen friend. Loosing someone close was always hard, but when it’s your family, when it’s all you got, that’s even harder.

‘He was a good bloke, that Wes was,’ Spike reflected as he hung his head in grief.

‘No, not Wes,’ Angel thought heartbroken.

“I’m feeling grief for him,” Illyria said, as a crowd clamored in the background, determined to bring down who ever was responsible. “I can’t seem to control it. I wish to do some violence.”

Spike paused for a second before speaking, her phrasing reminding him of a certain ex-demon he once knew. He cleared his thoughts quickly, as he watched the crowd multiply. “Well, wishes just happened to be horses today!”

“Among other things...” Angel added looking out at the approaching crowd. There were hundreds, if not thousands of demons all sorts of colors, shapes, and sizes, and a huge winged dragon flying angrily above them.

Spike mused to himself how it looked surprisingly like the dragon ffrom the day Buffy had given her ultimate gift. Buffy’s gift of death. Gun’s voice snapped him out of thoughts of gifts.

“Ok,” Gunn said sounding surprised. “You take the 30,000 on the left…” his voice trailed off.

“You’re fading fast.” Illyria looked down at Gunn slowly trying to rise to his feet. “You’ll last ten minutes at best.”

“Then let’s make ’em memorable.” Gunn replied standing under willpower alone.

Angel stepped forward with Spike, Gunn and Illyria following behind him. He looked to his right, studying the profile of a man he had known for 150 years, he looked to his left, seeing the fading strength of a man he had know for a little under four years fading, and futhers, an ancient demon dealing with human feelings. Together, in a very unimpressive line, they stared at the horde of demons that were approaching them in the alley.

“In terms of a plan…?” Spike asked surveying the whole crowd coming at them. It was the largest mob he’d ever seen, knew he had to make it. For Buffy, for Dawn, and everyone else that cared about him, for those who had died saving the world only a year earlier.

“We fight,” Angel said simply. ‘It’s about all we can do.’

“A bit more specific..?” Spike was in awe at all the demons. He’d seen a lot in his day, but this was completely out of hand.

Angel stepped forward, a smirk on his face. “Well, personally, I kind of want to slay the dragon.” His brown eyes darkened at the demon horde began attacking. “Let’s go to work!” He swung his sword and slashed through a demon, watching it fall to the ground before heading further into the mass.

In the blink of an eye, hundreds of slayers literally came out of the woodwork, heading for the fight. They took up places beside Angel and the remnants of what was once Angel Investigations Inc. “It’s about time you showed up,” Angel said surprised, continuing to slice and dice into a demon. He hadn’t been expecting the slayers to show up, but the more the merrier, he hadn’t been looking forward to them being alone in this battle.

“Yeah, well, we weren’t coming,” A dark haired girl yelled, punching a demon in the face. She moved to the right and out of the way of a swinging sword. She’d heard stories of Angel joining the law firm, and didn’t trust him until now, and only then out of necessity.

Spike shrugged snapping a demons neck, “Whatever works.” He went to the next, repeating the act again, again until he came up against a demon more his sparring size. Now this one he was going to have a fight, a grin spread across his face as he threw a punch. The rain pelted down on them, another obstacle to the end of the battle that would, hopefully, be the lesser of two evils.

Illyria was holding her own against a demon much bigger than she, one punch it flew back, taking three or four demons with it. Satisfied, she retrieved a metal rod from the ground, and threw it like a javelin. The rod pierced through the initial demons chest, killing him and a few beneath him instantly. With a smile on her face, she turned towards another demon, but before attacking she noticed that Gunn was under attacked by three ugly, hairy demons. She rushed to his aid, clearing the path separating them quickly.

“Here,” Gunn gasped as he handed her his axe. The blood had been seeping out of his wounds for some time, signaling that he was too far gone. He slowly slipped away Illyria fighting at his side in a protective stance. She didn’t even notice until she was finished with the demons.

“Charles.” Illyria cried, dropping his axe as his she noticed that he was gone. She fell to the wet ground, cradling his head in her lap. A single tear rolled down her cheek. “I have failed you.” She screamed as her body morphed back into to Fred of its own accord, the shock of losing both Wes and Gunn, men she’d loved, driving the demon away. “Charles,” she sobbed as she rocked him in her lap.

Lorne had been watching the whole thing play out from the shadows, after what he’d done with Lindsay, he didn’t want any part of killing anyone ever again. He looked out at the carnage, shaking his head. He wished things wouldn’t have gone down like this, he wished there had been a different way. Sighing, he pulled his jacket over his head, and hurried into the rain and over to Fred. He knelt down in front of her. “Pumpkin.” He reached out to her. “It’s ok. He’s gone off to a better place.”

“No!” She cried at him. “I knew he wasn’t going to last. I should have stopped him.”

“Honey, there was nothing you could do.” Lorne reached out to pull her hair away from her face. “This was who he was. Come on, with me. We’ll go inside and get you changed.”

Fred sniffled and shook her head, her voice wavered as she spoke hrough her tears. “Not going to leave him. I can’t. I made that mistake with Wesley.”

Lorne’s heart was breaking for her, he wanted desperately to do nothing but take away her pain. “But sweetie, you had no choice. They are both in a better place now.” He stood then, reaching out his hand to her. “Come on inside with me. Look at us, we’re all soggy now.” He pouted. Fred couldn’t help but give Lorne a watery smile as she relented to his coaxing and laid Gunn back on the ground, kissing his on the forehead.

“I’ll never forget you.” She placed her hand in Lorne’s as he pulled her to her feet. “And I’ll never forget Wesley either.”

Smiling, Lorne spoke, “Come on sugar plum.” They ran toward the Hyperion. “Let’s go get warmed up.”

While Lorne was helping Fred get dried and slay her inner demons, the Slayers, Spike, and Angel reduced the size of the demon horde on the streets of L.A. by half. The dragon had swooped down several times trying to take a bite of Angel or Spike, but that didn’t deter their mission, in fct it seemed to only seemed to spur them on. They fought as if this were their last.

The dragon swooped down again for a bite out of Angel. ‘That’s it. It’s time for this damn dragon to bite the dust.’ The brooding vampire looked over at Spike.

“I got your back, go kill that bleedin’ thing.” The blonde vamp yelled back as he dodged a large pipe that was coming toward his head. “Bloody hell, I think not.” He vamped out, charging the demon and beating the hell out of it. A few moments later, he stabbed it through the heart. “Ha!”

Angel jumped up on dumpster, raising his sword as the dragon flew by him. He sliced at it, but the beast only grew more irritated. The winged creature flew away, circling around to swoop down at Angel, before he had a chance to move, the dragon caught him, squeezing the vampire hard between its massive claw. Angel held on to the sword and began swinging at it as dragon flew away.

After a few moments, Angel had done enough damage to the shiny green and teal scales, the final injury of burying the weapon into the paw of the dragon caused it to let him go. Angel fell from the sky, until he landed on a table leg. He had landed dangerously close, the wood wedged next to his heart. If he moved, he was dust. There was one thing he had to do before death claimed him.

Spike saw the whole thing from where he was standing, and ran over to his grand sire with out a second thought, he knew that the Slayers had it covered. Besides, by now most of the demons had run off.

“Angel!” Spike cried, finally reached him.

“No, don’t!”

“Don’t bloody argue with me.”

“I said don’t. This is my destiny. I’ve done everything that I could. The battle is done. The girls have it under control.” Angel sighed. This was so not the way he wanted to go. “I have something in my left jacket pocked. Take it out very easily.”

Spike reached slowly into the pocket, removing a thin envelope. “A plane ticket?”

“Yes,” Angel said evenly. “You’re going to Italy to be with Buffy. No more excuses. No more bull about big exit’s or big entrances… you’re going!”

“But…”

“No buts. Listen to me Spike, Buffy loves you and you love her. It took me a while, but I know that now. At first, I didn’t, I couldn’t stand it, just the idea of it made me burn, but you’ve proved yourself this year Spike. You’re a good man. I respect you for getting your soul the way you did. The way you’ve learned to deal with it and accept the things you’ve done in the past. I couldn’t do that, not for a really long time.”

“I’ll say!” Spike muttered under his breath, Angel glared a bit. Blue eyes softened, “Look, for what it’s worth, you’re not so bad yourself.”

“You go to Italy and be with Buffy.” Angel winced again at asharp stab of pain.

Just as Spike began to speak, white lights trickled down next to him, molding into the form of Cordelia.

“Cordelia,” Spike and Angel said in unison.

“Well, yeah, who were you expecting?” She queried.

“Certainly not you,” Spike drawled, prompting Cordelia to smile at the blonde vampire smugly.

“What- what are you doing here?” Angel asked slowly.

“I’m here for you!” Cordelia said rolling her eyes, she looked around Spike, checking out the mle. “Impressive.” She added, her voice riddled with approval. “I think that they can handle the rest.”

Angel sighed. “I’m a little tied up here, so to speak, Cordy.”

“That can be arranged,” she said with a suggestive eyebrow. Angel glowered. “Ok, ok.” With a wave of her hand, Angel disappeared and reappeared in front of her. Spikes dark brows shot together in confusion. He didn’t quite understand Cordelia, but, from what he heard, when had anyone understood her? “Now, let’s go…both you. He’s not going to wait for to long.”

Blue eyes met brown ones as the men exchanged a glance. “Where are we going Cordy?” Angel asked. He wasn’t budging until she told them what was going on. There was no reply as Cordy grabbed a hold of his arm gripping Spike’s bicep as well before they disappeared in volley of white lights, unnoticed the dark haired slayer looked on. She’d killed the last of demons. All that was left was the dragon, who’d flown by a few times, taking out a slayer here and there.

“Where’d they go, Ana?” A red haired slayer asked as Willow appeared out of thin air.

“Willow,” Ana called out.

“Watch out,” Willow called out to the slayers as the dragon made another pass and the slayers ducked out of the way. The witch stepped out into the middle of the alley, eyes going dark, raised her hands in the air as an electrical current flowed out of her hands at the dragon. The current kept the dragon at bay while Willow chanted something in Latin. The dragon looked her in the eye before blowing up into tiny pieces. She smiled gleefully as her eyes changed colors. “Just needed a little magical intervention.” She turned towards Ana. “Get back to the head quarters. Giles is gonna want a debriefing.”

With that, the girls departed. Willow’s eyes noticed something at the end of the alley, and the redhead meandered toward it. She stopped when she saw red. It was blood, mixing with the rain. “Oh my god, Gunn.” She knelt down in front of him. She scooped his head into her arms, she hadn’t known him long, only the one brief visit after The First was defeated. “I’m so sorry it had to end this way. Farewell.” With a wave of her hand, Gunn’s body turned into tiny particles, and disappeared into the wind. She tucked a strand of red ahir behind her ear, a few strands still white but slowly changing. ‘It’s a proper burial for a warrior’, she thought as she vanished a few moments later.

The rain stopped, the clouds cleared up, and the stars shinned in the night sky. It was the beginning of something new.

TBC




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