Richard Castle, Watcher (Castle/Buffy) (Complete)

Sunnydale, January 2003

Rick Castle would have thought that leaving the Hellmouth - even if only for a day or so - would make him feel relieved. Like a small vacation. Or some day off.

He should have been suspicious when everyone else begged off from helping Rupert driving the potentials out to the desert so they could meet the First Slayer in some binding ritual or vision quest, to strengthen their spirit and maybe themselves as well.

“Stop that noise, we’ve been listening to that shit for hours now! Switch to a channel that plays songs from this millennium!” Kennedy complained. She had already been mad at not getting to grope Willow for this trip.

“No! We’ve been listening to your garbage for hours, this is just where it’s getting good.” Rona, sitting up front, didn’t share the other potential’s taste in songs.

“Shut up you two, I am reading here!” Annabelle glared at both.

“If I have to sit in the middle in the back, I get at least to pick the song!” Violet piped up.

“No you don’t!” Kennedy disagreed. Again.

“Not for the whole trip!” Annabelle chimed in.

“I don’t care, I am switching channels now!” Rona exclaimed.

“Hold her back!” Kennedy tried to grab the other’s arm.

“Leggo of my hair!” Rona whined, the seatbelt hindering her defense against Vi.

Watch it, I… ooof!” Annabelle had just become collateral damage in the latest fight over the radio.

While Annabelle and Vi started to strangle each other, Rick grit his teeth, then channeled his best inner drill sergeant, or what he thought he’d be like, and bellowed at the four annoyances: “Would you girls stop acting like children? My eight year old daughter is more mature than all of you combined, and she has tantrums over her dinner!” Granted, that had been over all the salt and fat and sugar in Pizza, and right after she had read a health brochure, and had been worried about his and Martha’s health, but they didn’t need to know that as long as they shut up. Which they did.

He used the time to switch the channel to a country station. In hindsight, that had been a mistake as well. At least he could be certain that none of them were the First.

*****​

“How did you survive the drive?” Rick asked while clapping Rupert on the back. No First here either.

“I am not sure I did. I am quite certain that they play Britney Spears in hell itself after this drive.” The British Watcher shuddered while their charges limbered up after the long drive.

Castle looked around the rather desolate desert while Rupert gave instructions to the girls to build a fire. If not for the lack of uniforms, it could be mistaken for a girl scout camp. Or a catholic school field trip. Right down to the complaining and bitching. Even outside the Hellmouth’s influence it was still destroying some of Rick’s fondest fantasies.

With the help of a bit of spare gas they got the fire going, though, at which point Rupert broke out the incense and other drugs - not that Castle’s straight-laced colleague would ever call them that - and told the potentials to gather around the fire and get ready to meditate with their favorite weapons in their laps.

To the author’s surprise, it didn’t take long for the girls to enter a trance - one after the other their postures changed. He felt a shiver run down his spine when the last girl stared into the fire with glazed-over eyes, her breathing slowing down noticeably. ”That’s damn creepy.”

“You’ve never meditated, I take it?” Rupert laid out a quilt and sat down.

“I faked it a few times to impress a girl that was heavily into New Age. Does that count?” Rick asked while sitting down next to his colleague.

“I don’t think so,” Rupert answered, but he was grinning.

Mary would have scowled at him for not being serious enough. Well, she was the one stuck doing some ritual to find out more about the First, together with the rest of the scoobies! She was also not the one sitting in the desert staring at a fire and hoping this was as cold as it could get in California. “So… now we wait?”

“Now we wait.” The British Watcher pulled out a book from his bag and started to read.

Rick busied himself by checking his Ack Pack, and his other weapons. Twice. Then he sighed. Before he could say anything though, Rupert handed him a book.

“‘A treatise on the Hellmouth’? Seriously? You know none of those authors can write worth a damn!” Castle raised his eyebrows at Rupert, but the man kept reading his own book.

An hour later, Castle was ready to burn the book. That author couldn’t write to save his life! Or anyone else’s! He could almost feels his brain cells die from boredom. Only the knowledge of what Rupert would do to him should he burn what now was a substantial part of the Watcher’s library - until they got access to the microfilm copies, at least - kept him from acting on his urge.

“Did you hear that?” Rupert’s voice interrupted his thoughts. He had known the man was not as engrossed in his own book as he had appeared to be! “Someone’s coming!”

That made Castle tense up at once. Two men alone in the desert, with a bunch of drugged teenage girls and enough weapons to re-enact the Battle of Hastings, plus esoteric books… that wouldn’t paint a pretty picture for anyone taking a closer look. Hopefully it wasn’t a cop or a member of whatever passed as rangers in California. But when he saw over a dozen robed figures approaching them, he wished they were cops.

”I don’t suppose hooded robes are the new black in California?” Rick asked while he slipped his flamethrower on.

“While I am no expert on West Coast fashion, I do believe this is not the case.” Rupert got his sword out. “More are approaching from the other side.”

“That’s far enough!” Castle shouted. In a lower voice, he added: “Always wanted to say that!”

The first figure threw back its hood, revealing a human face with eyes stitched shut. Castle didn’t wait for Rupert to identify them and pulled the trigger. His first one-second burst caught the leading demon… thing, and the two next to him. They burned almost as well as vampires, but not quite as quickly, and shrieked inhumanly as they thrashed around on the ground.

“Dear Lord, Bringers!”

“Cover my back!” Castle fired another burst at the demons on his side, then ran towards Rupert, who was falling back from half a dozen, with more behind them, while readying a Molotov cocktail. Another two bursts from the Ack Pack incinerated most of them, and the cocktail took care of the surviving one, but Castle could see more demons coming at them - rushing them now. He sprayed fuel on the ground in a wide arc, then ignited it, forming a barrier of fire on that side, but in the meantime, the demons on the other side had gone around the burning ones, and were now charging at the fire - and at the still entranced potentials.

“Wake them up!” Castle shouted, firing desperately at the demons. He had five, now four ignition charges left, but he had used more fuel than usual for the barrier.

“It’s dangerous to wake them when they are in trance!” Rupert yelled back, slashing at one demon and cutting off its hand.

“Getting killed by demons is dangerous too!” Rick fired at the next demon, turning it into a flailing burning figure. When he next pulled the trigger, the ignition charge went off, but the fuel cut off after half a second. It was enough to drive the next one back, but they were still surrounded. “Do it!” he shouted, hitting the quick-release on the harness Xander had constructed and drawing his sword.

He met the next charge of the closest mutilated demon with his blade, barely managing to deflect the blow from it, then slashed its belly open when it lost its balance for a second. He still had to fall back when it kept coming at it even while its guts were sliding out of its belly.

“They’re not waking up!” Rupert shouted more bad news. Between the fire, the still burning gasoline on the ground, and the smoldering demons, Castle was sure there were at least half a dozen of the bringers left. Probably more. And they were stronger and faster than either him or Rupert! Tougher too.

He saw another one running towards the closest girl, and ran to intercept it. He succeeded - in a way. The demon stopped to attack him, and Castle couldn’t evade quickly enough. A blow to his stomach drove the air out of his lungs and threw him back and to the ground. He lost his sword in the fall, not that he felt like he’d be able to lift it. Coughing and panting, he managed to roll on his stomach, then started to get up when he saw the eviscerated demon walking towards him as well.

Rupert was busy fighting - or rather, getting beaten - by two more, there would be no help coming from him. Castle rolled to the side, grunting in pain, and managed to evade getting stomped into a thin paste by the demon behind him. He threw a handful of sand at its head, which it ignored. A rock bounced off its head, causing it stop its advance for a second, only to grin evilly.

Rick realized then he’d die here. Torn to pieces, or crushed and broken. He, Rupert, and all the potentials. Why hadn’t anyone thought of such an attack? Planned for it? Another three flamethrowers, or one Slayer, and the demons would have been dead.

Dead like he’d be in a second. The demon not dragging its guts over the sand grinned and closed in, raising its hands to smash them into Rick. He would have liked to make a last defiant remark, but he couldn’t think of a good one in the second he had left to live.

Then the demon’s head separated from its neck, and the body toppled over in a spray of blood. Vi stood behind it, sword in hand and still in trance. She wasn’t alone. All around Rick - and Rupert - the potentials were falling on the demons, slaughtering them with a ferocity Castle hadn’t seen before. They looked more than a little like demons themselves, especially in the flickering light of the burning fires.

Rick managed to get on his feet, and stumble over to Rupert, who was holding his arm but otherwise seemed to be OK. “Did you expect that?”

“I didn’t expect it, but it was a possibility,” his colleague answered, adjusting his glasses.

“What’s going on?” Castle winced when he saw Vi and Kennedy disarm a demon - literally.

“Possession. The First Slayer’s possessing them.” His British friend bit out.

“That’s a good thing, right?” Rick shuddered seeing Rona wear a grin more feral than human while she split a demon’s head.

He looked at Rupert, and the other man’s expression was answer enough.

 

Sunnydale, January 2003

“You know, Vi… Violet… that’s close enough. Really. Personal space is a thing, you know? A thing I need.” Rick Castle knew he was babbling, but any man faced with a possessed potential Slayer sniffing him while covered in the blood of Bringers would react the same way.

“T-this is n-not a-apropriate, Miss. You are u-underage and I am f-far too old f-for y-you… really.”

Case in point: Rupert was babbling a few yards away from him, faced with Rona tugging at his belt. None of the girls had spoken since the fight.

“No one ever mentioned this when I joined the Council.” Castle was backing away from Vi, slowly, to avoid provoking the predator currently possessing her. He wasn’t certain she understood him anymore. “Everyone only ever mentioned the dangers of getting killed by demons. No one said anything about potentials. Is this common for such events?”

“T-there have been r-reports about some Slayers - some! - h-having c-certain urges, after a b-baamhph,” Rupert’s explanation was cut off by Rona grabbing the Englishman’s head and mashing her lips on his. For a moment, everyone seemed to be staring at the two. Then a growl cut through the sudden silence. Annabelle grabbed Rona’s hair and pulled her away from Rupert, throwing her to the ground in the process. Rona didn’t take that lying down, and soon the two were fighting.

Castle would have usually made a comment about needing mud, if not for Vi still being far too close to him, and the fight looking more like the Hulk vs. The Terminator than Cindy vs. Cherry in the Dream Palace in Las Vegas. And it was spreading - the two bumped into other potentials, who took offense as if this was a testosterone-filled Saloon in a Western.

Rupert used the opportunity and fled to his car. Castle followed his example, praying that Vi wouldn’t give chase.

God wasn’t listening that night though, and the author was tackled and brought down a few yards from his M3.

“That’s a first down, Vi. Well done! Now you have to get back up in linooof!” Castle was flipped on his back in mid-babble, then straddled by the possessed girl. He was quite sure she almost crushed his hips while she ripped his shirt off. She leered at him, grunting, and reached for his belt.

Before she managed to rip his belt and pants off though, she was hit in the face with a load of white powder. Coughing, she rolled off Castle, who was covered with in the powder himself.

“Run!” Rupert yelled while emptying Castle’s car fire extinguisher into Vi’s face. Rick staggered to his feet and ran to his car, followed by Rupert.

Inside, both men, panting, looked at each other.

“Can they break through a car window?” Castle asked while trying to find out if he really had a broken pelvis, or if it just felt like it was broken.

“In their state, anything seems p-possible.”

They didn’t stop the car until they were half a mile away.

*****​

“Welcome b… what happened to you?” Buffy was staring at Castle and Rupert, mouth wide open. They were a sight, alright. Clothes ripped, bruises visible, white powder from the extinguisher still covering skin here and there.

“We were attacked by Bringers during the ritual.” Rupert stated. “We beat them with the help of the potentials. There were no casualties.”

The potentials mumbled some agreement and filed into the house past Buffy. They didn’t sport any bruises, some healing factor must have kicked in Castle thought, but their clothes were torn up as well, and they kept their heads down. The drive back had been a very quiet affair - no one had wanted to talk about the fight, much less what had happened afterwards.

“That must have been a battle!” Buffy sounded almost jealous.

“Yes. We were in quite the sticky situation, but we persevered.” Rupert commented, looking as dignified as a British man could with his shirt and part of his pants missing.

“Wow, G-Man! Did you have an orgy out there?” Xander joked, then paled under the combined glares of the potentials and the two Watchers. “I’ll be… checking the boiler.” The young man fled with all due haste.

Rupert shook his head. “That boy’s tongue will be the death of him, one day.”

“That’s what my mother always said about me!” Castle grinned at his friend’s glare.

“So, did anything important happen while we were on our trip?” Rupert asked, in a tone that made it clear he expected the answer to be “No.”

Buffy nibbled on her lower lip and studied the floor. “Wellll…. define ‘important’?

“Buffy?” Rupert stopped polishing his glasses and cocked his head at her.

“Well…” Buffy’s smile looked more and more forced.

“Yo, G!” A well-endowed dark-haired girl in black leather and jeans waved at them, leaning on the door to the living room. “New guy!”

“Faith.” Rupert said in a cold voice.

“Gee. Chill, G. I am here to help. Got a Slayer dream in prison, and some demons tried to kill me, so I broke out and made my way here.”

Castle realized that this was Faith Lehane. The rogue Slayer. The Killer.

“I see.” The British Watcher looked at Buffy, who cringed slightly and shrugged. He gave a very curt nod to the two girls and headed towards his room.

Buffy went after him with a slightly whiny “Giles!”

Faith turned to Castle. “You know, I would have thought that he’d be a bit loosened up after driving for hours with a couple half-naked chicks in the car.”

“I can say from personal experience that such an event is highly overrated. At least without copious amounts of alcohol.” Castle responded.

“Ah… they didn’t want to use you to take care of their horny urges?” Faith grinned. “Well, if you’ve got a case of blue balls, I can help you out.”

If this ever got out, Castle would lose his “ruggedly handsome rake” and “Bro Club” membership cards. “Thank you for the offer, but I need rest. It was a pitched fight, and we all got banged up.”

When the Slayer snickered, Castle rolled his eyes and walked past towards his room. Hopefully the locks would keep any further trouble out until he had slept for a day or so.

*****​

The next morning, Castle felt far better. Well-rested, his bruises treated, his clothes fresh and whole, he smiled on his way to the kitchen. No one there seemed to share his good mood though.

“What happened?” He asked Buffy, the one who seemed the most coherent.

“Slayer dreams. Everyone had them - me, Faith, all of the potentials.” Buffy answered, holding a mug of coffee in her hands and staring at the wall.

“I take it they were not the kind of dreams that leave you happy or frustrated.” Castle made a weak joke and got a cup of coffee himself. He still hadn’t bought a better coffee maker.

“No. Giles’s trying to do the decrypting thing. He must be into his third batch of ‘fascinating”’ by now.” Buffy took a sip from her mug, and closed her eyes. “Your ex-wife is trying to help him.” She opened her eyes and turned to him. “Do you think the two were an item in the past?”

Castle spit out his coffee. “What? How did you come up with that?”

“Well… they’re both British. They’re both Watchers. They both like books and tweed and tea.” Buffy explained.

“That’s no base for a relationship.” Castle stated, refraining from making a Monty Python reference. “Besides, I assure you, Rupert has much better taste in women!”

Buffy smiled at that, though with relief and not humor, as far as Rick could tell. He didn’t know what to make of that.

“Well… with Rupert and Mary busy, and the potentials - we really need to find a catchier name, by the way - recovering from their dreams, maybe we should work on reinforcing the villa’s defenses. I’ve got a couple ideas.” Castle refilled his cup and hunted for a croissant, or anything edible the Slayers and the proto-Slayers had missed.

“What a coincidence! I have some ideas as well!” Xander grinned broadly, and snatched the last doughnut before Castle could claim the box. “We might have to raid the local Army base though, to get all I need.”

Castle didn’t think robbing the US Army was a smart move. They wouldn’t accept “we need it to save the world” as an excuse, unless he was completely mistaken. “Let’s see what we can do with legal supplies first, Xander.”

The young man sighed, but nodded. “OK. We can do it the no-fun way too.” The glance he and Buffy exchanged didn’t look like he had given up though.

“You look like you’ve got experience robbing the armory.” Castle raised his eyebrows.

“Well… we might have borrowed a few things in the past, to battle evil of course.” Xander said.

Buffy nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! The rocket launcher for the Judge. The detonators for the bomb we blew the school up with. The missiles we used against Glory. The machine gun against Adam’s horde.”

“That doesn’t count, Buffy, that was from the Initiative.” Xander corrected her.

“It was still the army’s though!” Buffy protested.

That sounded less like an Army base, and more like a self-service weapon supermarket. Well… it was quite surprising how much an upcoming apocalypse put things into perspective. “I always wanted my own tank.” He had been five at the time, but some dreams never died.

“We can get a tank?” Buffy perked up. “I didn’t know they had tanks there!”

“They don’t, Buffy.” Now it was up to Xander to be the killjoy, and destroy the dreams of people… well, not everywhere, but at least in this house. “But we can stock up on all sorts of rockets, explosives, guns and grenades.”

“And fuel.” Castle added. “Lots of fuel for flame traps.” The British Homeguard’s flame traps might not have worked well against the Germans, would they have invaded, but they looked like tailor-made to battle demons.

The three shared some very nasty grins, then they stuck their heads together and started to plan.

 

Sunnydale, January 2003

“I know you said it was easy to sneak into the base, but you didn’t mention that the soldiers actually load up your truck for you. It really is like shopping in the supermarket…” Rick Castle, disguised as a soldier, refrained from shaking his head in disbelief as he muttered under his breath.

Xander, wearing the uniform of a Lieutenant, grinned while watching a squad of soldiers from the base labor to load the supplies he wanted into the truck they had commandeered. “When we got the rocket launcher, we used a pretty girl as a distraction, and came during the night. Since then, we’ve found out that Willow hacking up some orders, and Buffy sneaking in the office and dropping off the paperwork over night, so we can come and get it all legal-like, works better.”

“If that’s legal I don’t want to know what you’d consider illegal.” Castle was sitting in the cabin of the truck, playing driver.

“Hey, careful with that ordnance, private!” Xander shouted at a pair of soldiers handling a crate a bit too casually. The soldiers jerked, and almost dropped it, before recovering.

“I thought the ordnance couldn’t go off if it was dropped.” Unless Hollywood hadn’t lied to him that time.

“It can’t. But officers always make a fuss about it.” Xander explained. “I’d rather be a sergeant, but I am too young-looking for that position, so I am a green, assholy 2nd Louie.”

“I could have been the sergeant!” Castle grinned.

“No, you couldn’t. Any real sergeant would have pegged you as an impostor right away.” Xander shook his head, at the soldiers and at Castle.

“I’ll have you know that acting is in my blood!” Rick answered.

“Must be running rather thin, then. Or you’re better suited for other roles than tough sarges.” Xander stood at parade rest, as he called it, checked his watch, and frowned some more. Rick cut his losses. Xander was too good at playing soldier. If it could be called playing if he had the memories of a veteran.

“Just hypothetically… if we get caught, how many years behind bars is that worth?” Rick asked, after a while, when the soldiers were carrying the last few crates out of the depot.

“In the current War against Terror? We’ll be lucky to ever see the daylight again before we die from old age.” Xander stated as if he was talking about the weather. If that was what growing up on the Hellmouth did to kids, Rick was very glad there was an entire continent between it and his daughter.

“Of course, if we mess up, odds are the First wins, and then we’d probably die before they even finish the investigation anyway. With the rest of humanity.” Xander added, looking grim. Rick didn’t know if that was an act for the soldiers, or a glimpse of the young man’s real thoughts on the topic.

He still felt much better when he drove the truck out of the base, and he kept expecting someone - a tank, a helicopter, a jet - stop them before they reached the small forest, where Buffy and a few potentials waited, to switch cars and clothes.

*****​

“Vi! Don’t open that! Annabelle! Put the C-4 down! Faith! What did we agree on loading weapons in the house?”

Xander was sounding like he was close to losing his temper, sanity, or both. Unpacking a truckload of weapons and ordnance and fuel with a bunch of potentials and two Slayers was like trying to keep a stack of fresh, juicy meat from a pack of starving wolves - nigh-impossible, and almost suicidal.

Ever since that trip into the desert, the potentials had been stronger, faster and tougher. Not on the level of Buffy or Faith, but far stronger than they had any right to be with their bodies. Rupert theorized that the Slayer Spirit had entered all of them, as a reaction to the attempt of the First to erase the entire Slayer line. Given their newfound skills and love of weaponry, they might have, in fact, been activated as Slayers - both Buffy and Faith had years of experience, and apparently, Slayers grew in power the longer they lived, which would explain the difference to the minis, as Faith called them.

Of course, if that was true, then that made the Cruciamentum an even more brainless practise, on par with shooting yourself in the foot, or belly, before a race. At least that was Castle’s opinion. Mary had disagreed, and the row that had led to apparently even had impressed Anya.

“I’ve discovered the meaning of the dreams!” Rupert stormed into the living room, then froze at seeing it filled with modern weapons and enough explosives to blow up a school twice over. “Dear Lord!” Good thing, Rick thought, that his colleague hadn’t seen the garage where they stored the gasoline for the flame traps.

“G-Man, I have never felt as close to you as today! I now finally understand just what you went through each day, before we grew up.” Xander smiled tiredly at the older man.

“Hey!” Buffy apparently took offense at that, but since she was holding a partially-dismantled light machine gun in her hands, it didn’t impress anyone.

“Xander… I approve of the sentiment, but I would contest the notion that you’ve grow up yet.” Rupert looked around. “Anyway. I’m reasonably certain that I have deciphered the meaning of the recent Slayer dreams.” Everyone present stared at him with anticipation in their eyes, weapons in their hands forgotten for the moment. “But maybe we should discuss this in a less … militarized area.” Rupert smiled weakly, and started to retreat to the study.

When Castle noticed how that last line left all the Slayers currently carrying weapons confused, he heartily agreed. “Let’s store the explosives at a safe place before we join him.”

*****​

“So… we need to find a magic sword-thingy tied to the Slayer line so we can kill the First even without her having a real body?” Buffy Summers looked up from the M-60 craddled in her hands. She hadn’t put the gun down since she had unpacked it.

“That’s… the gist of it, yes.” Rupert didn’t sound too happy with his Slayer’s talent for condensing his rather lengthy explanation into one sentence.

“And the only way to find it, since it’s somewhere underground, is by magic.” Buffy continued.

“That is essentially correct as well. The odds of finding it by conventional means border on impossible.” Rupert nodded.

“Great. Since I am Slayer-girl, and not magic-girl, I can leave that to others and I can go play with my new baby then!” Buffy happily declared and left the study, followed by the rest of the Slayers, apparently as eager as the blonde to test the procured weapons.

“This is creepy. She’s as enthusiastic about those guns as she is about shoes.” Dawn commented.

“Isn’t that normal for a Slayer?” Rick’s personal experience so far certainly would lead to that conclusion.

“In the past, she preferred more traditional weapons.” Rupert added.

“Well, she didn’t let me fire the rocket at the Judge… even though I got more experience with it than she had,” Xander mentioned. “And this is the first time we stole machine guns and assault rifles. We’ve kept things a bit more low-key until now.”

“Rocket launchers are ‘low-key’?” Rick asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Those were exceptions during emergencies.”

“The local law enforcement turns a blind eye towards supernatural attacks, but they are unlikely to ignore automatic weapons, or firearms in general.” Rupert explained. “And firearms generally do not do well enough against vampires and a slew of other demons to justify the added complications.” With a glance at Xander, the Watcher added “Though there were exceptions.”

Dawn muttered something about “Knights of Byzantium” Castle didn’t catch, but those near her winced.

“Yeah,” Spike added, “You can riddle a vampire with bullets, and unless you shatter the bones, it won’t stop him for long.” He grinned. “More than a few Initiative soldiers found that out the hard way when they were caught without their fancy tasers.”

“They should perform well against Bringers though. And given the numbers we are facing, we’ll need them.” Xander stated. With a glance to Willow, who had been uncharacteristically silent ever since they had carried the weapons inside, he added “I am sorry, Will. We really need them.”

The witch, apparently one of the most powerful practitioners of magic known to what was left of the Council, slowly nodded. She and Xander hugged each other. There was a tragic story behind that, Castle knew, but he wasn’t about to pry.

“Does that mean I get to pick a gun too?” Anya asked eagerly.

Dawn chimed in as well: “And me?”

Everyone else stared at the two, shaking their heads in unison. “No.”

The resulting argument took an hour to resolve.

 

Sunnydale, February 2003

“It’s truly a sign of the Apocalypse!”

“What is?” Rick Castle looked up from where he was putting one of the last nozzles of the flame traps on the balcony overlooking the driveway to the villa when he heard Xander’s comment.

The young man pointed at the column of the last cars leaving the town in the distance. The streets had been full of them for weeks. “You know, rivers of blood, frogs raining down from the sky, Sunnydale residents finally fleeing the Hellmouth. They stayed despite death rates and people going missing in numbers that would have given refugees from Somalia pause, but now they’ve fled. Everyone. Everyone but us.”

“Principal Wood is staying in his school too. Dawn said so, last time she checked.” That was one dedicated principal. And probably soon one dead principal, given that his school was built right on top of the Hellmouth. Castle had been suspicious of the man, but he had checked out.

“He doesn’t count. Son of a Slayer, rogue vampire hunter… he’s like us.” Xander’s respect for the man was audible in his tone.

Neither man commented on the reason Wood hadn’t joined forces with him: Spike. The vampire who had killed his mother. Wood hadn’t taken the news of Spike’s redemption and resouling well. Of course, ‘Sorry for killing your mum. She was a good fighter. Do you want her coat back?’ might have been an honest attempt at an apology for Spike, but it hadn’t been a very effective one. Buffy knocking the man out when he had tried to stake the vampire then had pretty much sealed the deal. Or rift. When they found the scythe and moved against the First, they’d have to deal with Wood though. Castle wasn’t looking forward to that.

“Xander! Castle!” Vi’s excited voice announced her arrival before she reached the balcony. “She’s done it!”

“Call me Rick, Vi.” Castle turned towards her. “Who did what?” If that was another ‘she touched my weapon’ incident… no, she was too excited for that.

“Willow! She found the Scythe! We just have to recover it!”

“Great!” Castle smiled. With the ‘Ghost Touch Scythe’, as Xander had it dubbed in D&D terms, found, they only needed to recover it and stab the First with it, and he could return to his family.

“Fuck!” Xander exclaimed.

Castle turned towards him and was about to ask why he was not happy to hear the news when he saw a veritable army, no, a horde, of bringers move towards the villa. If he ever used such a scene for a book, he’d have the characters say something less profane, but right then, Xander’s expletive summed his reaction up well enough.

“Fuck.”

 

Sunnydale, February 2003

“Hold fire!” Xander’s voice rang out from the balcony.

“We can’t wait until we see the white in their eyes - they don’t have eyes!” Rick Castle snarked. It made it easier to refrain from shooting at the Bringers as soon as he had his rifle aimed. The demons were clad in dark, tattered and ragged robes, and charging at them like a human wave. Demon Wave. He was reminded of a few horror movies. Hopefully, this would not follow that sort of script.

Next to him on the balcony, Buffy had her M60 trained on the attackers, a feral grin on her pretty face. Anya, Dawn and Annabelle were on lookout duty on the roof, to the side and rear. Faith and a few more minis, as she called the new Slayers, would be down on the ground, in case the demons somehow managed to breach the walls. Castle couldn’t see how they would achieve that though - they had enough ammo to reenact Omdurman, with great defensive positions to boot.

“Fire!” Xander shouted.

A dozen light machine guns opened up, and the first row of the bringers was cut down at once. The Slayers fired textbook short bursts. Castle simply pulled the trigger on his rifle as fast as he could. The author was reminded of World War 1 movies, the way an attack was mowed down in no-man’s land. He felt almost a bit disappointed that he wouldn’t get to use his flame traps judging by the rate the demons were dying.

But right then a giant explosion shook the entire villa, worse than an earthquake. Castle was thrown to the ground, and when he got up again, he saw that the entire front wall and gate had disappeared in a cloud of dust and smoke. Debris was raining down on the area, pelting them with rocks and chunks of earth.

And through that cloud came the Bringers. More than Rick had seen before, charging at the villa. Castle was still dazed, and struggled to move his rifle, but the Slayers were already shooting again, stopping the demons from getting farther than a few yards onto the front yard - or what was left of it. Faith and the others were shooting from the ground floor too now, and the bodies were piling up quickly.

The dust cloud was slowly settling, and Rick could see that the street had been torn up in a wide semi-crater in front of their lot. It looked like the protective spells Willow had laid over the villa and yard had saved their lives, for now.

Then more explosions went off, to the side and behind them. Smaller though.

“Sappers!” Xander shouted. “The walls are breached, shift fire! Hit the traps!”

Rick hurried to the flame trap set on the balcony, checked the nozzles, then triggered it. Much of the front wall’s remains disappeared in the flames shot at it. A second later the traps at the rear and to the sides went off, and the villa was engulfed in smoke and fire. The screeching of dozens of demons burning to death drowned out the gunfire for a moment.

And still the bringers came at them. Burning, bleeding, trailing guts and body parts, they came. A group at the side managed to get through a spot where the flame traps had been destroyed by the explosion. A mini-slayer started to mow them down, but one of them pounced her. Seconds later it, she and part of the porch were torn to shreds by another explosion.

“They are carrying bombs!” Castle shouted, terrified now. Demon suicide bombing? Someone had seen too many war movies. Demons weren’t supposed to be that smart!

Down below, near the garage, one Slayer had to reload. The few seconds this took were long enough for another bringer to pounce on her and the bomb it carried blew them both to bits.

Xander, who hadn’t been shooting himself so far, was firing now. “We can’t sustain this that long!”

Buffy shouted back “Breakout?” while she methodically shot the Bringers still trying to scramble over the blasted, burning remains of the front wall and gate. The tiny blonde was holding back the tide there almost by herself, but her ‘Baby’, as she had named her M-60, had to be overheating soon. Castle was shaking, but kept shooting at the ragged forms running at the villa below him. He didn’t know if he was hitting them, or if someone else got them and he kept missing.

“The road’s gone - we can’t leave!” Xander threw a grenade to the side. “Fire in the hole!” He slapped a new magazine into his rifle. “And they’ll massacre us if we try to run on foot.”

“Cover me, Baby’s needing her barrel swapped!” Buffy yelled, and Castle and Xander started firing at the front in bursts, then threw grenades. It wasn’t enough to keep the Bringers from advancing. They were almost at the front entrance when Buffy started to fire at them again, and the bomb one of them carried exploded anyway, blowing a hole into the door.

“They can’t have unlimited explosives, or we’d be dead already from the first bomb. We’ll have to hold on!” Xander yelled.

“We don’t have unlimited ammo either!” Buffy shouted back. Suddenly she froze for a split second. “They’ve gotten into the house, in the back!” She was about to stand up, but Xander put a hand on her shoulder. “You keep firing at the front. We’ll handle the inside. Rick! Grab your Ack Pack!”

Castle nodded, shaking. He was going to die. He was going to be blown up in the house. Or burn to death when someone hit his tank. Alexis would be an orphan. He cursed as he picked up the flamethrower and slung it on his back. He’d take as many of them with him as he could.

The house was filled with smoke that burned in the throat and lungs. Rick and Xander rushed through the main bedroom. Willow and Rupert were chanting a spell there, Rick didn’t know what it would do, while Mary stood guard.

“They're inside!” Xander shouted, and Rick’s ex-wife stood up, following them.

“Just like old times!” Rick grinned at Mary.

She shook her head, crossbow ready. They had reached the stairs when another explosion shook the house, and dust and smoke billowed out from the kitchen. “They’re worse than Buffy in the kitchen!” Xander joked, then fired at ragged figure coming at them.

The demon fell down, but two more climbed over it before it had stopped moving. Castle set both of them afire. Nine shots left. He had the sudden urge to sing “10 Little Indians”. Mary shot a bolt at another.

Half a dozen Bringers rushed into the hall now, from the front and the back. Two were chasing a mini-Slayer, Molly, who had lost her gun, or ran out of ammo, and was slashing at them with a sword. Castle couldn’t fry them without roasting Molly too. He shot at another demon, closer to the stairs. Xander downed another from the kitchen. Mary rushed down the stairs, slashing at a bent over demon, charging towards Molly.

Before Castle’s ex-wife reached the mini-slayer, one demon impaled itself on her sword, and trapped the blade. The other grabbed Molly before she could back off, biting her throat. The Slayer’s scream was cut off. Mary stabbed the demon and it let go, but the Watcher had been too late to save Molly. The mini-slayer fell to her knees, trying to breath through a ripped throat, drowning in her own blood. She was staring, pleading, at them, but there was nothing tehy could do for her.

Castle looked away, cursing under his breath, and fired another two bursts of flame at the kitchen and front gate area. Six shots left. Mary was getting flanked by another group of demons. She fell back to the stairs while Xander and Castle shoot at them and set them on fire. Rick didn’t want to think about the Slayers that had been on the ground floor. They had to have been overrun. Just like he’d be soon.

A bringer leapt up and tried to climb the side of the stairs. Mary slashed at his hands, then kicked him down. Xander threw a grenade into a room on the other side, then drew his axe. He had to have run out of ammo, then. Rick kept firing, roasting half a dozen more before his tank ran dry. Breathing was getting more and more difficult.

He let the Ack Pack drop to the ground and hefted his sword. “None shall pass!”

“‘Tis but a scratch!” Xander answered.

Mary stared at them. She had never liked Monty Python. Even though she was British!.

Before Castle could make another comment the entire entrance hall seemed to blow up and the stairs collapsed under their feet, sending the three of them tumbling down on the destroyed ground floor. Rick landed hard on rubble and a dead demon, and when he tried to get up his left arm hurt too much to move. Next to him Mary screamed, her leg impaled on a metal poker. Xander was on his knees, axe in hand, but half a dozen Bringers surrounded them.

Up close their mutilated faces, with their carved out and sewn shut eyes, looked even more horrible than Castle remembered. He had lost his sword in the fall, and he was groping around for something, anything to defend himself with. He only found a piece of rock before the demons moved.

Xander slashed at one, Mary tried to fend of another with her blade, and Rick threw his rock. As last stands went, it was pathetic.

Another figure suddenly came out the smoke filling the room, pouncing on the demons. Castle had never been so happy - never been happy at all - to see a vampire. Spike must have survived in the basement, guarding the sewers. He was wielding a fire axe and split the head of a bringer, then disemboweled another. Xander had downed his opponent in the meantime, and the others turned to face the vampire. While Spike fought them with the savagery and skill that had earned him a place among the Scourge of Europe, Xander pulled Mary off the metal poker and Rick looked around for his sword. He didn’t find it, but a mangled piece of wood would serve as a makeshift club.

The four of them were turning to face the next Bringers when suddenly a bright light filled the room, blinding them all for a moment. Castle heard Spike scream in surprise and fear, but the vampire’s reaction was drowned out by the roars and hisses from the bringers. Blinking, the author could see the demons stumble, then turn to flee.

From above, he heard “They’re fleeing! You did it, Willow!”, followed by a ragged cheer, and more gunshots. Rick took a bit to realize that he wouldn’t die right then. That the demons were retreating. But when he did he turned to Xander. “Is this the moment when we complain about them getting away?”

Xander, bleeding from several wounds, chuckled. “That, or we complain about kill stealing witches.”

Spike and Mary were staring at them and shaking their heads in disbelief. Rick didn’t care. He simply laughed with Xander, laughed until the vampire and his ex-wife joined in.

 

Sunnydale, Februar 2003

Half of the villa was rubble, the rest ruined. The garage had fared a bit better, but looked like it would be condemned by any building inspector anyway. It had saved the life of Faith, who had climbed - or maybe jumped, Rick wasn’t sure such a feat was beyond either of the two oldest Slayers - on its roof. “Why don’t I feel as if we’ve won a victory?” He sighed.

“Because you didn’t grow up on a Hellmouth.” Xander answered.

“It was a rhetorical question.” He frowned at the younger man

“Thats what people say when they don’t like the answers to their questions.” Xander grinned, then grew serious. “The butcher’s bill is not as bad as I feared at first. We lost Molly, Chloé, Amanda and Annabelle. Mary and Anya are wounded, but seem stable.”

“No wounded among the Slayers?” Rick asked.

“Nothing that won’t be healed in a day or so. ”Shannon is the worst off.”

Rick noded. Most of the dead but Annabelle he hadn’t really known, and Annabelle he only remembered well because she had been a bit of a fan, and had talked a few times with him.

“We’ll have to leave though. The house can’t be held against another attack, and we need to get the wounded to a hospital.” Xander continued.

“Outside Sunnydale.” Rick assumed.

“Yes.” Xander kicked a pebble away, then looked at the crater in the middle of the road. “We can get the cars over that, with a bit of Slayer elbow grease, planks and Willow’s magic. Then one group goes to the hospital, the rest goes and get the scythe from whatever monster is guarding it.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” Rick didn’t know why Xander was running it past him - he was the outsider here.

“You look a bit banged up as well.” Ah, that was the reason.

He didn’t quite look at Xander. “I am fine. My shoulder was fixed, it hurts a bit still, but it won’t slow me down.” Much.

“Someone has to protect them, in case some bringers track them down.” Xander wasn’t giving up.

“Shannon can do that better than I can. And she can get her wounds looked at there too. It’s not as if I have missed the Slayers’ tendencies to claim they are fine despite evidence to the contrary.” Rick countered. “Besides, I’d rather not go with my ex-wife. She’s really cranky when she’s wounded.”

“Worse than PMS?”

“Yes.”

Xander winced, then left. Rick heard him call for Buffy and Dawn. By any rights, Rick should be helping out, doing something. But that had been the biggest, most dangerous battle he had ever seen, or taken part in. He probably was shell-shocked. Or something like it. He’d have to use such a scene in his next book too. Without the bombs though.

If he survived, of course. At least Mary would be safe, relatively. Alexis wouldn’t be an orphan. Although she might wish she was, if Martha couldn’t keep Mary in check.

*****​

Two hours later, Rick was reconsidering his decision to stay. He was hiding behind in a bush behind a ditch, facing an old mansion. Sturdy walls, lots of spots to hide and ambush people. “Is it just me, or does this scene look familiar? We’re missing our own army of expendable demon suicide bombers though.”

Buffy, Faith and Xander laughed. None of the minis did. Rupert muttered something. Rick shook his head. “Seriously, what are the odds it’ll be as trapped as our house was, or more?”

“If it’s a trap, it’ll be one for our enemy.” Buffy stated, cradling her M60. Rick had to admit that she was getting a bit too attached to that. But he wouldn’t be as stupid as to mention it. Only a fool would try to get between a Slayer and her weapon, so that was clearly up to Xander.

“We don’t need to get inside. We just need to get the scythe, which is somewhere below the mansion.” Willow explained. Again. The Slayers were quite a bloodthirsty bunch though, and wanted to storm the mansion and massacre everything inside with their bare hands.

“It’s an axe, not a scythe.” Buffy stated, not for the first time. “I know an axe when I see it, even in a dream.”

“It’s referred to as a scythe in the old texts. Its actual name is ‘mʔ’,” Rupert corrected his Slayer.

“We don’t have to storm the place at all. We keep it bottled up and go underground to get the scythe, even if we have to dig it out.” Xander cut in.

“Axe.”

“Mʔ.”

Rick rubbed his temple. Compared to the headache listening to the bickering was causing, the pain from his bruises and shoulder was nothing. His family would never believe him that he was the most responsible man left in Sunnydale. “We don’t even know if there is anyone in there. Isn’t the scythe protected from evil or so?” He ignored Buffy’s “Axe!” as everyone else did.

“Well, theoretically, but the presence of the Hellmouth might have weakened those enough for demons to reside nearby.” Rupert polished his glasses.

“We could wait until it’s dark, and then send in Spike as a scout.” Xander proposed.

“Oh, really, Xander? I’ll go take a look myself!” Buffy rolled her eyes at her friend, then went up and started towards the mansion in a crouch.

Xander cursed, then turned to the rest. “Stay here, I’ll cover her.” Both soon reached the building, and disappeared inside.

Rick and the others waited for ten tense minutes, until Buffy appeared again, waving. “It’s empty!” she yelled.

“That could be the First,” Willow looked at the blonde with narrowed eyes. “I don’t see Xander.”

“What do we do now?”

“I don’t know. We can’t just shoot her, if it’s Buffy, she’ll be hurt.”

It turned out that waiting until Buffy got annoyed enough to come down to the waiting group was enough to solve the problem. Getting touched by everyone didn’t improve her mood though. Xander, joining her, was pretty much tackled by a few minis, but he seemed to enjoy that. At least he joked as if he did.

But with the threat of a trap removed, the scythe/axe/mʔ-recovery mission could continue, more or less smoothly. Faith and a bunch of minis set up a perimeter, as Xander called it, around the mansion, the rest went down into the sewers and other tunnels beneath the mansion. Somewhere down there, in a veritable maze, was the relic they sought.

Rick would be going down with them, since he was not quite as good a shot with a rifle as any Slayer, mini or not, and couldn’t fire a minimi as if it was a machine pistol either. It wasn’t a very comforting reason for his male ego, but at least Mary’d be jealous when he’d tell her of the mission.

*****​

“Relax, Buffy - I know those tunnels like the back of my hand. Used them to get around during daylight all the time, back before I got chipped.” Spike sounded as confident as before the first dead end he had led them to.

“Couldn’t they have fixed you at the same time?” Xander snarled.

“Watch it, soldier boy!” The vampire turned and bared his teeth at the young man.

“If you two don’t shut up and get on with the recovering, I’ll fix both of you! With a spoon!” Buffy growled at them until they relented, and focused on the mission again. Rick personally doubted anyone had still an idea where they were, but the group was already tense enough, he’d rather not make it worse.

“It’s in this direction!” Willow pointed at a wall, a glowing crystal in her other hand.

Buffy went ahead and knocked on the wall. “It sounds a bit more hollow than the last one.” She beamed at Spike, who groaned while he stepped up, pickaxe in hand.

“Why it’s always the vampire who has to do the menial labor? I am not the only supernaturally strong being here, you know!” he complained.

“You’re the only male supernaturally strong being though,” Buffy explained. “Therefore, it’s your duty to do the menial work. Besides, dust would ruin my pants.”

Faced with everyone nodding in agreement, Spike grumbled, and started to tear the wall down. It took him a while, but finally, a room was revealed. As soon as he caught a glimpse, Rick gasped: “Shut the front door! They actually did the sword in the stone routine? What’s this, Excalibur 2.0?” Rick stared at the weapon half-buried in a block of stone. “If I would use that gimmick in a novel, my critics would crucify me!”

“It’s not a sword, it’s an axe!” Buffy huffed at him, then stepped forward.

“The mʔ actually predates the Arthurian legends by a few millennia at least.” Rupert had to stress the name, of course.

Buffy huffed again, then grabbed the heft of the thing, and pulled. The weapon came free as if it was just resting on the stone block, and she lifted it above her head with an enraptured smile. Glancing around, Rick noticed that all the minis with them shared the expression. He had thought they liked weapons before, but this was a whole new level of worship...

Buffy closed her eyes, shivering, then took a deep breath before looking at the group. “The First won’t know what hit it when I strike the bitch down with this!”

Rick wished he had worn ear protection after the minis stopped shouting their agreement. The noise level in the small cave was deafening.

*****​

About an hour and three disagreements about the right path later, the group had found their way back to the surface.

“Hi guys! We’re back with the axe!” Buffy yelled, presenting it to the rest of the Slayers. Again they seemed enraptured, but once they recovered, they stared at Rick with a very odd, and quite scary expression. Especially Faith, who marched straight towards him.

“Don’t move!” she growled

Rick froze. “Yes, ma’am! Ow!”

The rogue Slayer - or former rogue Slayer - grabbed his arm, squeezing. “You’re not the First.”

“No, I am not. Could you let go now? It’s a tad painful.” Rick winced.

“You’re not dead either.”

“I think I’d have noticed that. What is going on?”

Faith dragged more than led him to a body covered with a blanket. That was when Rick noticed the signs of a firefight all around him - and a few dozen dead Bringers. He forgot about the demons though when Faith kicked the blanket away and he was staring at a face that looked like his. Well, apart from the bullet holes in it. And he wasn’t missing the back of his head either. And he certainly would never be caught dead with such a horrible hairstyle. And the nose was not right, or so he thought. Jaw’s a bit too strong, maybe.

Still… “First the sword in the stone, now the evil twin… isn’t there any cliché the First won’t be using?”

“It’s the First Evil, what did you expect? Respect of intellectual property?” Xander, like everyone else, was staring at the dead man, who had apparently been the leader of the bringers, as well as supernaturally tough, according to Faith. Not tough enough to survive in the crossfire of half a dozen machine guns though.

“I’d have expected a bit more class, at least!” Rick shook his head. “I can’t use that in my novels either!”

And everyone was looking at him with a weird expression again.

 

Sunnydale, February 2003

“For the last time, the First cannot create physical doppelgangers! If it could, it wouldn’t have chosen such a dorky haircut, and even worse clothes for me!” Rick Castle was getting a tad annoyed at the glances he still was getting. Honestly!

“It’s not that. Everyone’s just wondering how you’ll write us in your next book.” Buffy explained.

“Huh?” Castle hadn’t thought the blonde Slayer had ever read any of his books. Dawn had been teasing her about her lack of ‘readage’ for days after his arrival.

“Yes! It’s a big worry for us. What if your descriptions are unflattering? What if my lines are dorky?”

To his horror, Castle saw a lot of the Slayers around him nod. “We’re facing the First Evil, and you worry about your portrayal in a novel that has yet to be written, and where I will be changing so many things that it’ll be unrecognizable anyway?” He wasn’t sure he’d closed his mouth after finishing.

“Exactly! What if the readers think we’d be wearing outdated outfits, or the wrong kind of shoes?”

Castle was pretty sure right then that the world was doomed.

*****​

It had taken a dozen slayers and Spike several hours to break through all the concrete covering the Seal of Danzalthar. Xander had managed to hold out for an hour before commenting how proud he was of his work. At which point he had been drafted into helping out as well by a disgruntled Buffy. Rick, smarter, more handsome and more experienced with women, had wisely not said anything, and therefore was spared the physical labor.

The plan to end the first was quite simple. A ‘Buffy-plan’, as Xander put it, but he hadn’t come up with anything better than ‘open the seal, go down, kill everything until the First shows, kill it with the axe, done!’.

They had added a bit to it, though. The Slayers would go down, but the rest would be ready to help, and guard their back. Willow with her magic, Xander, Rick, Rupert and Spike with more mundane weapons. Simple, if not for Dawn, who had driven back to Sunnydale with Shannon after the latter had checked herself out of the hospital. The resulting screaming row between the Summers sisters had resulted in Castle thanking god that Alexis was an only child. Now they had a sixteen year old girl to guard as well. And a principal to watch - Wood hadn’t left, and Rick didn’t entirely trust the man. Anyone would have agreed to a truce when faced with over a dozen Slayers. They could have waited for more Slayers to arrive, but the group had decided to strike before the First recovered its army of demons. They’d find out soon if that had been the right decision.

The die was cast now. The seal uncovered. One by one, the Slayers slashed their lower arms, and let their blood drop on the seal. Now that was a scene Rick could use in a book! On second thought, he’d better not use it - telling people how to unseal a Hellmouth was not a smart idea.

With a creaking noise, the seal broke up, crumbling as the earth split, revealing the very mouth of hell. Castle shivered at the sight. There was a small, narrow path spiraling down - or up, from Hell’s perspective.

“No tentacles. Let’s go!” Buffy ordered, and the Slayers climbed down into hell. They looked grim, but also excited. Looking forward to do battle.

Once the last girl had disappeared from view, Rick walked up and peered down. Below him, the Slayers were still climbing down, but he could make out a bright, flickering spot in the center. “Now I can claim to have seen hell!” he explained when he turned back to the group. A few chuckled. Mary would have scolded him. Another thing he had over her.

“And now comes the worst part: The waiting!” Xander declared, and sat down. Rick was just about to join him, when Dawn came rushing in. When had the girl split anyway? “Bringers! Bringers are attacking!” She yelled.

Rick glared at Xander: “That’s your fault!”

“How?” The other man was already on halfway to the stairs.

“You claimed waiting would be worst!” Rick readjusted the Ack Pack on his back and followed him, with Spike at his side. “Don’t let Dawn get away again!” the author yelled back at Rupert and Willow. “Buffy will kill us all if that happens!”

“I knew attending school would be the death of me one day!” Rick muttered when he saw a dozen demons climb over the remains of the main entrance.

“Technically, we’re trespassing, not attending!” Xander snarked, then started shooting. One Bringer was hit in the head, and it fell down, causing two more to stumble. Rick set all three on fire.

“You two are long-lost siblings, aren’t you?” Spike snarled at them. “Watch the flames instead of cracking jokes! I don’t fancy getting barbecued!” The vampire leapt ahead, decapitating one bringer with a blow of his axe and disemboweling another with the backstroke.

More demons were coming though, and not just from the front. “We have to fall back or we’ll get flanked!” Xander yelled, and Spike disengaged, just in time to avoid getting cut off. Rick torched the first group following them, and the next, while they retreated further. Or fell back, as Xander called it.

Rick was about to torch the next group when the ceiling above him came down, followed by a bringer. Weighed down with the flamethrower on his back, he didn’t manage to move out of the way in time.

*****​

When he came to, he was not where he remembered falling down. It looked like a hallway. Next to him lay Spike, or what was left of him. Only the fact the vampire hadn’t turned to dust told Castle that he was still alive… undead… whatever. He wasn’t conscious though. There was no sign of Xander, but someone had to have dragged or carried them to this spot, and laid them out so Rick wouldn’t choke on his own tongue. Whoever had done it had gotten their weapons too, and placed them next to them.

Rolling over, Rick yelled in pain - his leg, the same that was already bruised all over, was bent in a way legs shouldn’t be. He wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while, so he grabbed the nozzle of his Ack Pack and hoped that there was still fuel inside it - he didn’t remember how many shots he had fired already. Maybe he should better hope that no enemy came near them.

He probably had a concussion as well, now that he thought of it. Contrary to Martha’s slander, he wasn’t usually quite that scatter-brained.

He couldn’t hear any sounds of fighting, and the hallway wasn’t on fire, so … did that mean they had won? Or was the apocalypse delayed due to a scheduling mixup? He chuckled at his own attempt at a joke. Definitely a concussion. That meant he shouldn’t fall asleep. Hard to anyway, with how much pain he was in. So, a broken leg was a good thing… that explained the ‘break a leg’ saying, at last!

He chuckled again, then stopped when he heard footsteps coming closer. Gripping his flamethrower, he tensed. Closer. Closer. Turning the corner…

It was the principal, looking slightly battered himself. “Hello Mister Wood. Sorry for loitering in your school, but I find myself unable to leave.” He nodded at the man, lowering the nozzle. “What happened? Did we win?”

“The school’s still standing, the Slayers are still in hell, but the Bringers have been destroyed and the seal is safe. Mister Harris is ‘securing a transport’ as he put it, which means he’s stealing a school bus, and I am patrolling the hallways, just in case we missed a demon.”

Rick smiled, relieved. “Everyone safe so far then? Good.” Then he noticed the stake in the man’s hand, and his smile froze on his face. “Well, you can see, this hallway’s in safe hands. No demons to destroy here. You can go check the locker rooms now.”

“I beg to differ, Mister Castle.” Wood smiled. “There’s one demon left to destroy. A demon that has destroyed my family.”

“Didn’t we get over that? He’s one of the good guys now. Besides, killing him when he fought on our side, and got almost killed for it… that’d make you the text-book backstabbing douchebag. You don’t want to be that kind of man, Wood.” Rick lifted the nozzle and aimed it at the Principal.

“Figures you’d come when I can’t defend myself, Wood. Your mum’d be ashamed.” Spike apparently had regained consciousness some time ago, and was, as usual, not helping his own cause. At all. At least Wood was ignoring him, focusing on Rick. Or his flamethrower. It was hard to tell, even without a concussion.

“I know you, Mister Castle. Or is that Mister Rodgers? You’ve been a Watcher for a decade. As a chronicler, you know what this monster has done. It killed my mother!” Wood almost yelled the last sentence.

“That was the First talking, you know that. It wasn’t your mother!” Rick wondered how often the First had appeared to Wood.

“That doesn’t matter. I know he murdered her. The filthy vampire is even wearing her cloak as a trophy!”

“Told you, you can get her cloak back, if you want, Wood! S’not much of it left now, though.” Spike mumbled, still not helping.

Rick met Wood’s eyes. “I won’t let you kill him. Not now, not like this.”

“You cannot stop me without killing me, not in your condition. Would you truly kill a man trying to avenge his mother, a Slayer, for this beast? For a monster who has killed tens of thousands?” Wood took a step closer to Spike. “I don’t think so.”

“Wood, stop it!” Rick tracked him with the nozzle.

“No.” Wood shook his head.

Rick pulled the trigger.

*****​

“First the sword in the stone. Then the evil twin. And now the evil lair crumbling for no structural reason? God damn you!” Castle cursed!

“Told you, First Evil!” Xander commented. “No imagination at all!”

“No wonder it was killed by a blonde then.” Castle hoped Buffy hadn’t heard that. He was still blaming his concussion, of course.

For two wounded men who had been carried by a bunch of girls to the dubious safety of a school bus driven by a sixteen year old girl who hadn’t gotten her license yet, Xander and himself were holding up well, or so Castle thought. He still had a concussion, after all. That was probably the reason why he was not freaking out at the fact that they were just barely outrunning the giant sinkhole Sunnydale was turning into. He could see the street disappear into the growing hole just a few yards behind them. The street, and all the houses on it. It looked like the Hellmouth was closing up for good this time.

At least he could use that for his next novel.