| Lonely in your Nightmare by bloodshedbaby |
| Chapter #8 - Part 8 (chapters 19-21) |
| Chaper 19 *** When Angel had received word from Giles while he was en route to the secret military installation, he had been certain that the rescue mission would be fraught with peril. There were too many unknown variables to ensure a smooth, risk-free extraction. But the brooding vampire knew why his assistance was needed. He was the back-up plan - set in motion by Giles after having discovered the Council's agenda for handling the matter of retrieving “their” slayer. The very fact that the watcher had gone to the trouble of sneaking into the cramped aircraft bathroom in hopes of not being overheard, Angel knew that he, too, was anticipating trouble. Angel was also well aware that of the small group who had assisted Buffy in the past, he was the only one who could be considered expendable - at least from the watcher's way of thinking. And the vampire found himself oddly all right with his mentality. It was for Buffy, after all. Angel had, however, been taken by surprise by Xander's insistence in accompanying him. Not even his graphic, and no doubt a very realistic picture of what was most likely to occur had done a thing to dissuade the boy. There was an air of determination, an unfailing hope that his friend was still alive, that had resided within the teen since Buffy's disappearance first came to light. That they were so close to having her back, Xander had refused to take a back seat and wait patiently for her return. The usually annoying teen had responded to his every argument with the same steely-toned delivered mantra. "I'm helping Buffy with or without your help." Eventually, Angel had stopped trying to discourage him, a grudging respect replacing his typical lack of tolerance for the teenager. It had especially come as quite a shock that Xander had turned out to be a help rather than the expected hindrance in the frenzied planning stages of their assignment. His attention to detail and foresight of possible surveillance scenarios had been shrugged off as residual knowledge from Halloween, but Angel had the distinct feeling that it went deeper than that. Whatever the source, Xander's suggestions were appropriate, and his idea for the rescue vehicle had been truly inspirational. Through Willy, they were able to arrange things quite easily. After a few terse questions early on that Xander answered almost as if by rote, Angel had stopped testing him at every turn. He’d quickly realized what a valuable asset the boy was, and set aside his pettiness and got down to the business of planning Buffy’s rescue. Plus, it was nice having someone to share in the decision making. And also having someone to share the potential for failure. Because if they were unsuccessful, that meant they had failed Buffy. And being able to shoulder the blame with someone else was something that would be both welcomed and potentially necessary. Using the information that Giles had passed along, Xander and Angel had been able to narrow down the location of the base to a specific area. Once arriving by chartered aircraft to said location, they'd obtained the truck they had made arrangements to have waiting for them. With no other resources available, the pair had employed Angel's keen sense of smell and the begrudging aid of the sire's bond the vampire shared with Spike to navigate them towards the correct destination. It had been a primitive tracking measure, but it had been successful, nonetheless. After traveling miles into the desert, the pair had encountered the unembellished energy plant. To the outside person, the grounds looked empty and auspicious. But to Xander and Angel, well... they had looked past the benign ruse and seen the place for what it really was. A lie. Before their oversized vehicle had even come to a complete stop, Xander and Angel had found themselves accosted by what were clearly soldiers in plainclothes, forcing Angel to fully embrace the role of the bumbling fool to buy them some time. But when Angel's sensitive ears had caught the sound of a military alert being sounded from beneath them, he had a very good idea what had caused it. Buffy. The barked orders on the concealed radios the soldiers wore confirmed it. Easily pushing away years of crushing guilt and his desperate need to atone for his past atrocities, Angel had not even hesitated in bringing his demon to the surface. When one of the guards had reached for his radio and weapon, the vampire tapped into his killer instincts, and had easily taken the lives of the men before him. When the silence of pulsing heartbeats had greeted his ears, Angel had dropped the last body before daring to meet Xander's gaze, sure he would find condemnation and disgust. Instead, he had been greeted with a look of admiration and relief, and Angel couldn't help the small, conspiratorial smile that had lit across his distorted features. Xander had returned it with one of his own. Moving in unison, the unlikely pair of heroes took their place back in their getaway vehicle and proceeded to ram the gate, again using Angel's vampiric bond as their homing beacon. What Xander hadn't expected was for Angel to suddenly accelerate to an excessive rate of speed and slam through an outbuilding, a ramp now revealed that headed down into the bowels of the unknown. "Uh, do you know something that you aren't sharing here?" Xander asked, his seat belt becoming a priority as the truck flew around a corner. "I think they need help," was the only cryptic response Xander received. And rather than dig for details, he had thought it far wiser to allow Angel's concentration to be focused on keeping all four tires on the ground. Or at least making sure they returned to the ground in a timely manner, as the truck lurched to the side while Angel spun them around another sharp curve and down the seemingly endless circular roadway. Angel had felt his grandchilde’s panic, could practically feel it crawling through his skin and infecting every non-living cell in his body. He didn't even bother to identify the cause, just knew instinctively that time was of the essence. The dark-haired vampire knew they were headed in the right direction when the feeling had intensified, his face settling into a grim, determined mask as he prepared himself to execute the last curve - and for what might lie just beyond it. His senses were now extended to their fullest capacity and almost painful with the sheer intensity of his focus. The truck screeched around the last corner, the inner sanctum of this military now breeched by their attempt at heroism. But he could honestly say that there was nothing that would have prepared him for the reality of the scene that was to play out before him in seemingly slow motion. With the truck protesting its rough handling with a plume of smoke near its back tires, the smell of burnt rubber clogging the air, Angel brought the truck to a grinding halt, his eyes searching and accessing. And then he saw it. Spike. Running. Arms fully laden. With Buffy. And the oddity didn't end there. Angel recognized Quentin Travers, head of the Watchers Council, hot on Spike's heels - and in an apparently non-lethal manner. Angel wasn't surprised to see Giles in this odd group, but an instant of confusion dared to infiltrate his brain at noting that Spike wasn't the only one with arms laden, Giles' own damsel apparently military and unconscious. Time to find that out later. Angel exchanged a look with Xander, and in unison, the two burst from the truck, weapons in hand and ready to do battle. It only took an instant to realize that there was a group of soldiers in hot pursuit, and when bullets began to fly past him, Angel felt his face change and he roared, throwing himself into the fray. Nobody took shots at those he cared about. He watched as Spike managed to successfully dodge the incoming fire, the bullets whizzing by his head more of a warning – a means to make them stop - than an actual intent to do harm. Even at this late stage, Angel would bet his very last fang that this group of misguided military wouldn't want to jeopardize the viability of the baby that Buffy was obviously still carrying. "Get in the back," Angel yelled as Spike neared, throwing open the back doors to the armored truck that had thus far served adequately. "Go help the watcher with the girl," Spike called out as he passed his grandsire and with one last graceful maneuver, leapt inside the back of the truck before collapsing to the floor in pure exhaustion. He didn't need to hear Buffy's whimpers to know that he had caused her considerable pain during their mad dash, and only hoped that he had not caused undue damage in his less-than-gentle treatment ever since escaping with her nestled tightly in his arms. Xander shouldered his rifle confidently while covering Angel as the vampire dashed toward the struggling watcher to relieve him of his unconscious burden. Even he could hear the pounding of feet as the soldiers began to close the scant distance between them, his eyes narrowing in anticipation. No way would failure be an option when they were so close to seeing this mission through. Xander grinned inwardly at his entirely military mentality and rushed forward to assist a severely out of breath Giles. The military training from the previous year had been lurking in the deepest recesses of his mind, and was now screaming though him with an awareness that brought everything into startling focus. These soldiers rushing towards them were the enemy. With Giles' arm slung over his shoulder, Xander half-dragged the man to the back of the truck, noting idly that JerkWad Travers had already made it inside. Using little finesse, Xander practically threw the watcher into the welcoming interior, not caring that he landed in a sprawled heap atop of the unconscious soldier. Per the tentative plan they had made, Xander hopped in the back while Angel raced around to the cab, throwing himself behind the wheel. "Hang on," Angel shouted, the huge truck roaring to life from its previous idle, and with a screech of tires, Angel steered them towards the ramp that would take them out of this hellhole. A grim silence had prevailed in the interior of the large, bullet proof truck, adrenaline and pure exhaustion overwhelming. "Shut the door!" Giles managed to gasp to Xander, not quite registering the significance of his presence. "Not yet. Got one last little thing to do," Xander announced determinedly, lifting up the bench seat and grabbing the special weapon he had stashed there. He leveled it to his shoulder, the confidence with which he handled the grenade launcher bringing about a few surprised looks. Xander waited until he heard the tell-tale screech of rubber than signified the military's pursuit before discharging his weapon, his precision belying his teenaged years. The doors to the back of the truck were then slammed shut, effectively decreasing the possibility of being hit by flying shrapnel. Xander's intended target was destroyed, and the smile that brightened his features was wide and smug as he witnessed the most convenient method of exiting the base explode into a cloud of pure orange fury. The blast rocked the truck, but the vehicle's heavy weight kept it well-grounded, and they continued on their way. To freedom. Pride clearly etched on Xander's face, he gave Giles a self-satisfied smile. "You know, I almost wish I could send your old buddy, Ethan, a thank-you card. I just can't tell you how useful all my retained military information from Halloween has been." Giles managed a weary, rueful smile. "Yes, quite." With the adrenaline coursing through his veins now ebbing, Xander was suddenly hit with the blinding reality of the situation. They had succeeded. Or were well on their way to that success, anyway. He and Angel had beaten the odds. They had gotten Buffy back. As if by their own accord, Xander's eyes greedily searched out his friend, desperate to assure himself of her wellbeing. And upon seeing her huddled form, he was forced to accept the truth. Buffy was pregnant. As in, VERY pregnant. He had known that, of course. But the visual held so much more impact than his imagined musings of Buffy with a flat belly. A sharp cry from the girl in question effectively served to tear his eyes away from the abdomen that was anything but flat, to the contorted grimace of her face. And he suddenly wished he had never looked. Because this girl, one of his best friends, who had also happened to star in many of his personal fantasies, wasn't just pregnant. There appeared to be a disturbing lack of clothing involved, her form barely covered by the tweed jacket that was of the ugly and familiar. But that wasn't the worst of it. She was in labor. a/n-yes I know, highly Xander and Angel centric. But I thought the 'story' would be told best through their point of view. Thank you to Spikeskat for betaing this chap once again! Chapter 20 The skillful competence that had seemed to take hold of Xander during their rescue mission fled in light of this terrifying revelation, and he could help but watch - with morbid curiosity - as the vampire who had previously almost made him crap himself in terror, did his best to offer moral support to Buffy while she suffered at the cruel hands of mother nature. The vampire's murmured words and the soft strokes of his hands upon her hair were gentle and soothing in nature, and at such odds from the demented cruelty Xander had witnessed before. Xander could appreciate now that Buffy had become the bloodsucker's entire focus; the aftermath of their harrowed escape not fazing him in the least as he concentrated solely on the slayer’s well-being. Oh, he had been all about the issues and the disbelieving when Angel had told him that Buffy was with Spike WILLINGLY - figuring that Spike couldn't possibly care about Buffy. That the vampire was only in it for his own sick purposes. But all that denial went flying out the window as Xander watched the way Buffy reacted to Spike's touch while crying pitifully against his chest. Because Buffy accepting comfort from someone she wasn't with completely? Not much in the realm of possibility, no matter what had happened to her. She couldn't have changed that much. It wasn't like he and Giles weren't sitting right there, either, because the supportive best friend thing was all always of the good, no matter how long Buffy had been gone. Xander had the feeling that even if her mom or Willow were sitting here, Buffy would still be in Spike's lap. Judging by the tears that were now staining the vampire's ashen cheeks, this was heavy. Really heavy. Like 'buh-bye Angel, hello Spike' heavy. And after what they had already gone through today, Xander thought he just might be ok with that. The interior of the truck was suddenly filled with a plethora of unspoken emotion, nobody knowing quite what to say as the adrenaline rush gave way, leaving behind tired, shell-shocked people. Silence seemed the best option, each of them battle weary and on the last of their reserves. The truck continued to speed away from the military compound at a rapid clip; the longer they went without being set upon by the military, the better their odds at escaping unscathed. After a brief glance around the truck, Xander couldn't help but resume his study of Buffy, taking note as the inescapable pain of labor left her pale features contorted in a twisted mask of agony. There was no denying the worry that Spike felt for the girl in his arms as he continually smoothed the hair from her face, his gaze remaining locked with hers – like he could will away her pain with a look alone. A small twitch of movement from the unconscious soldier alerted Xander that she was waking, and he tore his gaze away from the unlikely couple sitting on the floor and watched the slight spasms that affected the stranger's limbs as the tazer gun’s affects wore off. "She's coming around," Xander announced unnecessarily, more to break the unnerving silence than anything. "Uh...should we be thinking of tying her up?" "Whatever for?" Giles snapped, finding this sudden irritation with the boy familiar - and oddly comforting. "She's not a hostage?" Xander asked, confused as to the girl's role in this situation. "I should say not!" Giles denied heatedly. Xander held up his hands in mock surrender. "Sorry, G-man, was just trying to help." "And you did help - quite well, actually." This praise came in the surprising form of Quentin Travers. Xander felt his chest swell with pride at the comment. He really had helped. He wasn't just Xander Harris, the Boy Wonder, donut-fetcher any longer. He had worth. A purpose. And damned if he didn't feel a few tears of his own pricking at the corner of his eyes. "Is everyone ok back there?" Angel called back to the sedate group. The truck had just exited the gate that they had crashed through what seemed like a lifetime ago - the bodies of the soldiers still undiscovered and lying beside the guard house. Silence greeted the vampire's inquiry, nobody quite knowing the appropriate response. No, some of them really weren't ok. The armored truck dipped suddenly and when Spike felt Buffy stiffen with pain against him, he yelled angrily over his shoulder. "Bloody hell! Mind your driving, Peaches." At Spike's scathing tone, Angel immediately bristled. "Sorry, Spike, I'm only trying to drive us to safety here." Even with the tempered windshield and sunglasses, the sun's rays were harsh against his sensitive eyes, and Angel had to wonder why it had been agreed that he would be in the driver's seat. A low moan filled the interior before Spike could shoot back an appropriate come-back. And this time, the one voicing it wasn't Buffy. "Ow... gawd dammit..." Christine rolled over on her side and tried to ignore the outcry of seemingly every muscle in her body. Spike nodded knowingly as he looked down at soldier girl lying next to him. "Yeah, hurts like a sonofabitch, don't it? Especially those first few minutes." At the sound of a voice, Christine's eyes shot open and flicked around in confusion before finally settling on the only familiar thing she’d encountered. "S-Spike?" "Yeah." Carefully pushing herself up on spasming muscles, Christine tried to remember what had happened - but came up blank. "Uh... Where am I?" "Back of a truck. It's somethin' called the soddin' cavalry. Used to make me heave, but now, can't say I quite mind the way they always seem to ride to the rescue and save the bloody day," Spike informed her, his own glance encompassing the others with a brief look of gratitude. Christine stared at Spike for a moment, hoping for more clarification than he had just offered, but realized that was all she was going to get. Her confused eyes found Buffy's and she smiled, finding herself glad to see her new friend here. Wherever 'here' was. "Are you ok?" Christine couldn't help but ask, noting the wan appearance of the girl in front of her. Buffy gave a derisive snort. "Oh yeah, thanks. This laboring thing in the back of a moving truck? So not much with the fun." "But it's got to be better than where we found you, right?" It suddenly dawned on Christine that they were no longer in the base, and were in fact speeding away from the military compound. She looked from Buffy, out the back window - where she saw the glaring desert speeding by, before fixing a shocked stare upon Spike. "Wait... you got me out of there?" Spike looked uncomfortable. "Wasn't me. Had an armful of pregnant slayer, ya know? Watcher did." Christine smiled her gratitude to the watcher in question. "Thank you." Giles took his glasses off to polish. "Yes, well, Spike was rather insistent." "Ok, obviously I'm missing something here... and since you're not a hostage, I'm going more with the help-age scenario," Xander announced, wishing someone would explain things to him. Obviously both Spike and Buffy knew this soldier, and Xander had already noticed the bite marks on the girl's neck - and didn't even want to acknowledge where his mind was racing. But before Christine could reply, an anguished scream from Buffy had wrenched its way past her throat. "God, this hurts!" she squeezed out between gritted teeth. "Is Buffy ok?" Angel tossed back from the front, torn between the desire to keep putting as many miles as possible between themselves and the wreckage they had left behind, and pulling over to make sure Buffy was all right. This feeling of uncertainty was not welcome at all. Spike rolled his eyes, even though he knew his grandsire couldn't see him. "No, she's not bloody all right. She's in labor, you nit!" Spike heard the heavy, put upon sigh that floated back to him. "Well, that's just great," Angel muttered, the urge to pull over growing stronger. "Hey! It's not my fault!" Buffy shot back at Angel. "Because believe me when I tell you, that as far as labor experiences go? This has pretty much just sucked all the way around." Before Angel could respond to Buffy's rant, he heard the voice of the previously unconscious soldier. "How far apart are the contractions?" she asked, concern evident even through Angel couldn't see her face. "Not far enough apart, let me tell ya," Buffy replied in a bitchy tone. When she noticed everyone looking at her, their expressions ranging from shock to outright terror, she couldn't help but sigh with irritation. "God, what am I? Buffy, the walking, talking, pregnant, freak show?" At those sarcastically spoken words, Xander's face broke out into a wide smile. "What?" Buffy demanded crossly, giving Xander a dark look. He was, after all, male. He couldn't possibly understand her pain. Which just totally sucked, as far as she was concerned. "Nothing. I'm just... all with the happy at seeing you again," Xander replied, still grinning like an idiot. "Because... it's like really you." "Yes, well, usually I do not find myself in agreement with Xander, but I, too, share his sentiment," Giles announced. "You were missed." Buffy's eyes filled with tears once more, her surliness fleeing in light of the heartfelt emotions of her friends. "I missed you guys, too." "I'd suggest the group hug thing, but something tells me I wouldn't live through it," Xander commented. "Got that bloody right," Spike mumbled heatedly. "But uh... just wanna say... 'ppreciate the help back there." He ducked his head self-consciously, obviously uncomfortable with expressing sentiments of gratitude. But Spike knew they would not have made it out of there if it hadn't been for the unexpected rescue. And for that, his grandsire and this boy had his thanks. |