Fic: Purgatory Pt. 3
Title: Purgatory
Author: Xanateria
Crossover: Sanctuary/Supernatural/Buffy
See Fic Master Post for rating, warnings and author's notes.
Old City Sanctuary
Main Computer Laboratory
8:37 am
Dean was still following Kate, only this time it was back into a room dominated by large tables, with a row of desks with several computers and the equipment that came with them. As they walked in, Henry straightened up from a table in the corner and smiled at both of them. “So Kate, how did things go?”
Resting a hip against the corner of a table, Kate smiled at the shorter tech. “Oh, he did alright,” she admitted grudgingly, but turning so that Dean could see that she was still smiling. Listening to the banter with one part of his mind, Dean concentrated on presenting a calm front.
Mermaids, two-faced men, flying fairies with dirty mouths, and over-sexed furbies were just the beginning. Kate had explained that some of the residents were here because they chose to withdraw from a world that didn’t have a place for them. Others were contained because they were simply too dangerous to be allowed to roam free. Having seen the fire elemental and the oversized cross between a dinosaur and a cheetah, to say nothing of the huge lizard man, Dean could definitely believe that, but his head was spinning.
Now the warning from the odd primate chef made sense, because all of his training as a Hunter was definitely screaming at him. With an effort, he was keeping his impulses in check, but no matter what this place had as a mandate, the warrior in him wanted to put some of the residents down. It wasn’t that he enjoyed killing, but he didn’t see how some of things could be guaranteed to remain contained, no matter how many good intentions were involved.
“I was just about to explain to Dean how we keep everybody comfy cozy and make sure they all play nice,” Kate told Henry, with a sideways glance at Dean that acknowledged his basic dilemma. “But then I thought since the security protocols were your baby, you might not mind playing professor.”
“Sure, I can do that,” Henry agreed, still eyeing Dean, trying to gauge his reactions to the residents. With a passion that showed both that he was a true geek and that he loved his job, Henry explained the worldwide network of Sanctuary houses, and how they had all collaborated to create a set of security protocols, supported by some impressive technology. His mini-lecture touched on an electro-magnetic shield, sophisticated back-up generators, motion and heat sensors, and a computer network to monitor it all that was so smart it seemed about a half step from developing intelligence of its own. He downplayed his own role in it all, but while he was talking Dean got the distinct impression that Henry could give Sam a run for his money for king of geekdom.
It wasn’t his thing, but he could respect the skills it took. While one part of his mind was cataloging what the shorter man had to say, another part was wondering what the egghead was doing here. The guy was smart enough to be working for NASA or something, not to mention, other than the geek quotient, he seemed so normal. Giving himself a mental shake, he tabled the curiosity, and tuned back into the conversation. There would be time enough to wonder about things in private.
***
Once Henry had finished his explanation of how everything and everyone was kept in their place, Kate explained that Helen had called a staff meeting for whenever the tour ended. Dean assumed that meant he would be left on his own, at loose ends. She went on to explain that the lady of the house had specifically asked that he attend, so he trailed along behind them to the room he assumed was the library, given the floor to ceiling bookshelves that dominated the room. The tour hadn’t included the tamer areas on the estate. Given the sheer size of the complex, it made sense that the self explanatory rooms were left out.
Taking his place in a comfortably overstuffed chair, Dean resisted the urge to tip the chair back while he waited to see who would show up. Henry, Will, Kate, Helen and a man he didn’t know had trickled in and were gathered around the table, being served tea by the man who had cooked breakfast. Dean was surprised to find he made an excellent cup of coffee, no matter what his anger issues were. From what Dean could tell, he seemed to be some kind of butler or something. Who knew people even still had those?
Once everyone had drinks, the butler took a seat beside Henry rather than leaving, which was interesting, but not really worth focusing on once Helen started to speak. “I am not sure if we are all on the same page in terms of the current situation, which is why I called this meeting. Why Mr. Winchester is in attendance will be explained to you once we are all caught up. Dean,” she continued, looking at him directly for the first time, “the man here that you haven’t been introduced to is Nikola Tesla, an associate of mine who may be able to help us with the current situation.” Nodding in acknowledgement of the introduction, Dean tried to ignore the alarm bells Nikola was setting off in the back of his mind as Helen continued. “I know all of you are all too aware of what the Cabal is capable of. What you may or may not know is that their current resurgence has connections to a portion of evil the Sanctuary network has never had to deal with directly before.” Here she paused, looking almost hesitant, but her voice was calm and sure when she continued.
“It seems there is no limit to what they will stoop to in order to rebuild, and as such, they have found backing within the demon community.” It was a straightforward statement followed by a lull, but Dean didn’t think there would be a long wait before the denials and he tipped his chair back to watch the fireworks.
“You can’t be serious.” Kate didn’t raise her voice, but the profound skepticism in her tone came through nonetheless.
“I assure you, when it comes to the Cabal, I am never anything but deadly serious, and I meant what I said,” Helen answered.
“Look, I understand you mean what you say, but Magnus, demons are just a myth, a legend spun by various societies that needed a boogeyman,” Henry interjected, looking upset to be going against the boss he idolized, but doing it anyway. The man had more balls than Dean had given him credit for. Will hadn’t chimed in yet, but rather than looking like he wanted to comment, he had turned pale and was staring at Dean like he was waiting for him to speak. That was odd, but then, the young doctor had been acting oddly from the get go. Dean gave him a smile full of teeth, just to watch the man sweat.
“Henry, after working for me this long, you should know there is more to this world than most people can imagine. How many suburbanites would say the same thing about werewolves being fairy stories?” Helen answered, with enough of an edge to her tone that Dean ticked off his question to what Henry’s flavor of difference might be. It was a little disconcerting, because the guy didn’t come off as a werewolf, but that was a question for a different day. Somehow, he was under control, or he would be in one of the enclosures.
Before Magnus could continue, Dean let his chair come down with a thud that drew everyone’s attention. “I know that you people don’t know me, so you don’t know whether I would lie to you or not. Believe me when I say I have good reasons to tell the truth. I can tell you demons are very definitely real.” Pausing for breath, he raised his voice and rolled over the beginnings of protests. “I’ve spent my life hunting different nasties, but what I have hunted most often are demons. I’ve gone up against a lot of them and I’m still walking around breathing air, so I guess you could say I won. But it wasn’t easy. I’ve lost people, people who mattered to me.” He wouldn’t think of Sam, or anyone else. He couldn’t or he’d lose all credibility.
“So, feel free to tell me that demons wouldn’t have a reason to take up with big business or that there is some other reason they aren’t mixed up in your current mess, but don’t tell me demons aren’t real.” He was breathing a little harder than he intended, but he hoped the harshness of his tone would be chalked up to trying his hardest to convince them.
For a heartbeat or two no one said anything. Henry looked worried. Kate seemed more angry than anything else. Will he couldn’t read. Nikola looked disturbingly intrigued, which said a lot about the kinds of things that made him tick. There was a surprising break to the silence.
“The boy is right,” said the butler. He didn’t sound happy to be agreeing, but he did it anyway. “Demons are real. My people have seen them, dealt with them, as best they could. Much as I hate to say it, we need to know what he knows about such creatures, if we want to understand the Cabal and what they are moving to do now.”
“For the sake of saving time, even if you all don’t completely believe it now, will you concede I would not lie to you?” Helen asked. After a moment, everyone agreed, though some more reluctantly than others, so she continued. “I asked Dean to sit in on this meeting. No matter why he came here, demons are his area of expertise. I believe he can give us all a working knowledge of what we are up against, so that we can formulate a plan of action.” It was phrased as a polite request, but what else was he expecting from such a proper English woman? He wasn’t exactly in a position to refuse. Even if he wanted to, what was left of his own conscience wouldn’t let him send them into a demon fight blind. There was already more than enough blood on his hands.
“Okay then. The first thing you need to know about is salt,” he began.
“And what good is a table condiment, exactly?” The lazy drawl had definite bite to it, but that was fine. Tesla had stayed quiet until now, but apparently felt the need to add some testosterone to the room. Then again, learning the monsters under your bed were real was never easy, Dean supposed.
“Quite a lot of good actually,” he replied, refusing to rise to the bait. “A salt line will protect you from demons, no matter where they are on the totem pole, so long as you aren’t stupid enough to break it, or let someone else break it. Speaking of other people, demons can take over a body and wear a person like you would wear a new suit, so once I’ve covered all the ways to tell if a person is possessed or not, please don’t forget,” he urged them. It was all a lot to take in, but he was just getting started, so they might as well adjust to the hardest parts first.
***
International Council of Watchers and Slayers
London Branch
Willow Rosenberg’s Office
5:05 pm
No matter what the content was, a new research project always made Willow feel better. Well, maybe not if she was researching why bunches of people died horribly, but this wasn’t about deaths, at least not yet. The research divisions on all continents had standing orders to keep an eye out for large scale demonic activity, and had tagged the Cabal months ago. The problem was going through all the raw data while trying to determine which demon, or demons, happened to be pulling the strings. So far they hadn’t come up with a name. But the rumors about what they were up to didn’t look good.
The research was a welcome distraction for the petty office squabbles she’d been dealing with for most of the day. Buffy and Giles had left early in the morning to deal with some Slayer related emergency in Scotland. Tanya, the lead Slayer assigned there, had been killed and the rest of her squad were badly injured.
With the two of them away, Andrew decided to air all of his complaints, which meant everyone else in the sprawling mansion converted to offices was about ready to kill him. Willow had locked herself in the office and given the girls orders to sort it out with him. Hurting him a little bit wasn’t outside the realm of possibility, but they weren’t allowed to kill him. Other than that, she didn’t want to hear about it.
Muttering to herself about the next set of possible higher level demons to check, Willow almost didn’t hear the incoming email. When she clicked over to the appropriate tab, a small smile crossed her face. This informant was definitely worth listening to. Spike had gone to see what he could find out two days ago, and this was the first time he’d bothered to check in. His news wasn’t good. By the time she was finished reading, Willow couldn’t decide between being angry or scared. Dashing off a quick email to Giles, she pushed back from the computer and went looking for Deena, a newish arrival, who until recently had been training with Xander in the States. “Deena, I’m going to have to leave, so I’m putting you in charge until Giles gets back. He told me he would be busy for at least two days. I’m not sure if he and Buffy were coming straight back here on not, though. Don’t make any major decisions unless you check with Xander or Faith. Make sure you keep up the current training and patrol schedules. And tell Buffy and Giles I’ll check in with them as soon as I can.” Her tone didn’t allow for disagreement, and even as she talked she was cataloguing what else needed to be done before she could leave.
To her credit, Deena didn’t waste time asking questions or arguing, only nodded calmly. “Gotcha. Is this a Slayer related problem? ‘Cause if it is, I need to put some of the girls on alert.”
Shaking her head, Willow took a second to switch gears to be reassuring. “No, this is something else that Giles put me on. I just need to make sure it gets dealt with properly, so I’ll need to be out of touch for a little while.” There was no way to tell exactly how long it was going to take to explain the situation to Giles’ friend, so she purposely left her time frame vague. Once Deena had headed back the way she came, presumably to let the rest of the girls know about the change in upcoming plans, Willow walked very quickly back to her office. She didn’t run, because she didn’t want to panic anyone who saw her, but it was very close. That was the trouble with having the office and the residences in the same building. Everyone was constantly underfoot, and when something big happened, unless you were very careful, everyone knew about it almost immediately. This wasn’t council business though, so she owed it to the other people involved to try and be discreet.
Though she had a secretary, and wasn’t that just weird, Fiona had already gone home for the day, so she dialed the number Giles had given her, and waited while the call connected. When she asked for Helen Magnus, she ended up on hold again, but it was only for a minute or two, which was something.
“This is Magnus,” a well modulated English voice announced.
“Hi, this is Willow Rosenberg calling. I got your number from Giles. He asked me to look into the demonic activity linked to the Cabal for you,” Willow explained, being sure to keep her growing sense of dread out of her voice. Now that she was talking the other woman, alarm bells were ringing in the back of her mind. Whatever the big picture was, it wasn’t good, and judging by how much it was affecting her, it was more important than she thought. “I’m calling because I think I know what they are up to, and it isn’t good,” she explained. When it came to bad news, simple was better.
“Yes, of course, Willow, thank you for getting back to us so quickly. What exactly have you found out?” Magnus asked.
“Well, from what our sources can tell, the Cabal hasn’t found one demon backer, they’ve found several, and they are way high up on the food chain. These are major players, and what’s worse, they’ve positioned foot soldiers at every level and location of the corporate structure. That’s the sort of thing you don’t do unless you are gearing up for a major battle.” Much as she hated to be so negative, it was important the other woman understand the implications.
There was a sigh, and then a slight pause. “Well, they already declared war on us once,” Magnus agreed. “It seems they plan on doing it again.”
“I wish I could disagree with you,” Willow told her sincerely. “There’s more.” She paused, questioning her decision for a moment, but her gut told her it was the right thing. “I think it would be best if we discussed this in person.” There was another pause, and Magnus began what sounded like a carefully prepared, very polite brush off, but Willow broke in before she could get anywhere. “Look, I know you do some fairly top-secret stuff there. Giles gave me the run down without the details before he left. And believe me, I will keep my mouth shut. I know about keeping important secrets. I’ve been doing it since high school, but you need to hear what else I know and you need to hear it, and it really isn’t wise to discuss some things over the phone.”
“Well, I defer to your judgment that we need to hear it,” Magnus reluctantly agreed. “But if you’re right, then shouldn’t you tell me now, rather than making me wait however many hours it’s going to take you to get here?”
Resisting the urge to giggle, Willow pictured the layout of Magnus’ office that Giles had described to her, and shook her head. “As long as you trust me enough on Giles’ say so to deactivate all of your external entry security protocols for a second, it won’t take nearly as long as you think.”
For the first time, the serious tone of the conversation lightened, and Magnus sounded genuinely curious when she spoke. “I suppose I do. When would you want us to do so?”
“How does right now suit you?” Willow replied, picking up the overnight bag she kept in the office for just such contingencies. Her laptop didn’t handle this kind of travel well, but she was sure she’d be able to access the information she needed from pretty much anywhere.
“I’m not sure I understand,” Magnus was saying, cautious, but still polite. “But in the interests of satisfying a curiosity, give me a moment.” There was a soft click, as she set the phone down, and then her voice was back in Willow’s ear. “I’ve allowed for a very short window, as that’s all that is safe for us to do,” she explained, but a heartbeat later the dial tone sounded in her ear because Willow had hung up and initiated the easiest of the teleportation spells in her repertoire.
“That’s alright,” Willow told her, from just inside the door to her office. I travel fast and light.”
Other than a slight widening of her eyes, Helen Magnus was remarkably calm about having a girl she’d never met popping up under her nose. She supposed anyone with the background it sounded like Magnus had would be fast on their feet with surprises.
“Well, I must say, you certainly are efficient,” the older woman said, after only the slightest of pauses.
“Thanks,” Willow replied, coming over to shake hands. “I’d love to say I’d heard a lot about you but Giles was sparse with the details.” Giving her head a tiny shake, she refocused on the point behind her impromptu visit. “So do you want me to fill you in now, or are there other people who are on the need to know list?”
“Well, now that you’re here, it’s probably best I gather everyone so you only have to tell us once,” Magnus decided. “Let’s go down to the library and I’ll have everyone meet us there.”
The good doctor was efficient herself. While Willow wondered idly about her medical specialty after noticing the diplomas in her office, they went down to a library that made her drool. As she was coveting the stacks, they were seated around an antique wooden table with a group Magnus had introduced as her friends: Will, Henry, Kate, and Big Foot, which she assumed was a nickname. There was also and an associate by the name of Tesla, and a younger guy named Dean with a bad boy air she kinda liked. Once Magnus had explained why she was there, though conveniently not how she’d arrived, Willow quit trying to link the names to the faces and got down to business.
“I won’t bother going back over the steps we took to figure all this out, though I can explain later if anyone is interested. The important point is that the Cabal activity paired up with the demon activity all paints a picture of a bunch of really big evil gearing up to do some really bad things,” she started. “And the icing on their likely very disgusting cake is that they aren’t just recruiting the Cabal and their people, or just low level demons. They’re conscripting, but with a twist. The last of our people to check in said he got wind of a major operation that they are planning. If they’re successful, they’re pulling all the souls out of Purgatory to help do their dirty work for them, too.” Just the thought of it made anger burn through Willow, but she was careful to control it. She’d never liked the idea of Purgatory anyway; it seemed unfair to make people live, or more precisely die, in limbo. But she wasn’t the one calling those shots, so all she could do now was hopefully prevent anyone from messing with the balance.
Her thoughts had wandered long enough that the rest of the table was looking at her quizzically, but that could have been caused by what she was saying, too. She didn’t have time to bring them all up to speed on the relevant facts they may or may not have believed. “I know it sounds crazy, though not as crazy as some of the things I’ve had to go with over the years. This will all be a lot easier if you all just take my word for it. Magic is real, spells do work, and Heaven, Hell and Purgatory are as real as the table we are sitting at right now. They want the souls from Purgatory because if you pull someone out of there, and you have no conscience, it’s pretty easy to force them to do what you want.” She didn’t like having to rush them, but she wasn’t finished yet. “The spell I’m telling you about is set to happen in two days, which means we have slightly over a day to make sure it doesn’t happen. Or we hijack it.”
That certainly got Magnus’ attention. “We can do that?” she asked, looking at Willow intently.
Honestly compelled her to backpedal a bit. “Well, we should be able to, but that sort of thing can be tricky. It’s hard to match the exact elements for a spell at the best of times. We only have second hand information, and we can’t be sure they won’t choose a different one at the last minute. There is always the possibility that whoever they have doing the casting is strong enough to block me,” Willow explained. There was also a possibility she would start living on the moon. She didn’t want to sound like she was bragging, so she didn’t say that. “I didn’t get a chance to research the spell in detail, but I can do that from here. Once I’m familiar with it, I can tell you what we’ll need.”
With a frown, she looked down at the table top. She didn’t know these people well enough to know exactly where they stood in terms of ethics, but she had a good feeling about them. Some things still needed to be said. “A crash course in magic could take days, so I won’t bother. What you all need to know that if we do this, there will be a price, physically, emotionally, I can’t tell you exactly what it will be, but that’s one of the basic rules. Everything has a price. If you aren’t prepared to pay whatever it is to bring down the Cabal, then we shouldn’t do anything. It’s safer that way.” She could tell that they looked at her and saw the pretty face and didn’t understand that she knew what she was talking about, so she let her usual mask slip just enough to show how much she meant what she said next. “I should tell you, in case you’re getting any ideas: this spell doesn’t reach anyone who is happily in Heaven. I will not help you modify it so that it does. Trust me, it’s better that way.” The thought of what Buffy had gone through when the Scoobies pulled her out of Heaven years ago made her voice shake.
“Okay, so the spell won’t grab anyone in Heaven. I get that,” said the bad boy, whose name she was pretty sure was Dean. “But how do you know if a person is in Purgatory? If the spell will reach them, I mean.”
There was such pain under the words that Willow wished she had a better answer. “You don’t,” she told him gently. “But you can hope, and if I were you, I would try a little praying.” He didn’t answer, but the grimace that he made told her he wasn’t likely to take her advice. Wondering who he had lost, she gave a mental shrug. She didn’t know him well enough to ask, and his loss didn’t change the answer.
“The only reason this whole idea even works is because in the cosmic scheme of things, those who are in limbo haven’t been claimed as dead and gone yet,” Willow clarified. “Purgatory isn’t really a separate place, it’s just the label given to the place for souls who haven’t been claimed: people who died with major unfinished business, or when they weren’t supposed to, that sort of thing. It’s like being on the fringes of either Heaven or Hell. If we do things right, we claim them for our side, but I should also tell you, the price I mentioned? They’ll be paying it too. Something else you might want to think about. I mean, I wouldn’t want eternal limbo, but it might be better than the alternative. There’s just no way to know for sure until it would be too late to change your minds.”
This time it was the young psychiatrist who spoke up. “Given that the alternative involves demons, I’m pretty sure that even if you’re right, any of the people we’re talking about will be better off.” He paused, almost like he would say more, but then fell silent.
“Okay, well, I just thought I should make sure you all understood,” Willow agreed. “I’ll get started on the research I need to do,” she decided, by way of dismissing the meeting. “It shouldn’t take me long to have a game plan.” It would be weird doing research without the usual sugary snack goodness, but she would just have to make do. There hadn’t been time to stop for doughnuts.
***
Old City Sanctuary
Will Zimmerman’s Room
6:03 pm
He’d only meant to stretch out to get the stiffness out of his back, but as his head made contact with the bed he was drifting off, sucked into sleep far faster than he would have thought possible. Everything was hazy and indistinct as he transitioned, and when it cleared he was watching from a position just inside the archway leading to the central garden courtyard.
Everyone was there: Magnus, Big Guy, Henry, Tesla, Kate, Dean, Willow, and even himself. Watching himself seemed natural. His focus shifted, though he couldn’t have said why, and he noticed that Druitt was there, too. He seemed in control of himself. Will continued to watch, as a small corner of his mind wondered what exactly what was going on.
As he stepped closer to better see what was going on, Willow walked up to Magnus.“We’re nearly ready. I just wanted to say, I’m sorry if him having here causes you pain,” she made a slight head tilt towards Druitt. “But, we need the people here who were part of your original involvement. If it helps, the spell is more likely to work if whoever you want to believe is in charge of such things-- god, goddess, whatever - can see that you have good reason to be granted what we’re asking.”
Though her eyes were very dark, a sure sign she was upset, Magnus only nodded calmly. “Thank you for telling me. Don’t worry, I’m quite used to dealing with all of this,” she finished. Willow still looked uncomfortable, but she didn’t say anything in reply before she moved away to fuss with some items on a side table.
When she was finished, she turned back to face the group and cleared her throat. “I know you each have different reasons for why this matters to you. That’s important because it means you each have different roles to play tonight.” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “Helen, you’re the anchor. You have the deepest and most intimate knowledge of the Sanctuary. Since that’s where we want to bring any of the people we can grab, we’re gonna need that.” Will watched as Helen nodded, her expression gravely serious. “Will and Henry, of the group, you are the most psychically sensitive, and you lean toward the medium side of the spectrum. I can use your energy and focus it toward the specific goal of grabbing souls.” Will wanted to ask questions, but somehow he knew that no one would hear him. “Mr. Big Foot, although your energy leans toward the medium side of things, what I’m going to be using you for is balance. Just like in everyday life, your energy will help balance everyone else’s into a coherent whole.” She paused for a breath, looking slightly pleased when Big Guy nodded, with no signs of amusement at her formality with his name.
“Dean, you were involved with magic before, so, more than anything, what I need from you is your belief. You know this can work, and I need you to share that certainty with everyone else. It’ll balance out the skeptics,” Willow added.
Dean leaned on the edge of one of the stone benches in the courtyard, and nodded in acceptance of his role.
Taking a deep breath, Willow launched into the only part of her explanation that seemed to make her a bit uncomfortable. “If I was the badies that are casting this, I would be anticipating problems. That’s where you and John come in,” she said, with a long look at Kate.
Though he couldn’t have said exactly how he knew, Will could see the young redhead looking for signs of hesitancy or doubt.
“You’re going to be playing defense. As part of the spell, I need you to focus on not allowing anyone to interfere. I’ve set things up so that if anyone tries to stop our hijacking, you’ll be able to deal with it without disrupting what the rest of us are doing.” Again, there were only nods in answer to her explanation. She waited a beat, but there were no questions. Willow stepped away from the group to finish the set up. There were pillar candles, lines of what he thought was probably salt, and other things he couldn’t identify from his distance.
Even as he tried to catalogue the details, a habit too ingrained to break even in his dreams, everything shifted again and he was in a room he didn’t recognize. It was night, and the middle of it, judging by how dark it was. Wherever he was, it was warm, and scented with flowers, though he couldn’t have named which ones. The realization that he was dreaming came slowly, but it didn’t bother him.
There was something else he was there to do, and he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, wake up until it was done. Even as the thought drifted across his mind, a single flame lit in the centre of the room. The space it illuminated was uninhabited, richly furnished. As he studied them, the details stood out. The deep brown wood of the chairs and table, antiques by the look of them. The carpet was so soft and deep he was happy to be barefoot. The voice seemed to come from everywhere at once. It was female, and softly amused. “Always thinking, with you, trying to see patterns where there is only random chance.”
“Force of habit,” Will acknowledged, even as he looked around to find the speaker. There was no one, the room was still empty.
“I have a message for you, if you wish to hear it. I cannot tell you from whom; you must know that for yourself. But the message is simple. Some connections cannot be completely broken, and some gifts aren’t meant to be understood. Your dreams are a gift, in grateful thanks. But they are not the only change you will find in yourself, if only you have the courage to look.”
“These dreams, are they really of things to come?” he asked, giving voice the suspicion that had been gnawing at him since Dean had arrived at Sanctuary.
“Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?” asked the voice, though there was a thread of sympathy there now “It was thought that you deserved a reward for all that you have done. You dream of possibilities. Even for us, there are choices. You can always choose not to heed to warnings you are given, or to reject the gift inside yourself.” As the words faded into silence, the flame went out, leaving him alone in the dark, bereft.
Though he had more questions than ever, there was no one to ask. He shifted to leave and woke up on his bed. A quick glance at his watch told him he’d lost less than an hour to sleep, or whatever he’d been doing. His neck was protesting, but other than that he was no worse for wear. With a sigh, he put his glasses on and got up. A headache started pounding behind his eyes as he thought about telling Magnus his dream revelations. If he was lucky, Willow would already know all of the necessary details and he wouldn’t have to say anything. A guy could hope.
***
Old City Sanctuary
Library
9:30 am
Though he’d fully intended to come clean to Magnus the day before, the day had slipped away from him before he could decide what to say. When Willow had announced that she would update everybody the following morning, he made it a point to get to the library before anyone else. His boss and Willow sat on one of the couches, and looked to be enjoying a mutual tea love fest. Before he could talk himself out of it, he went over to join them, and interrupted the conversation.
“I know the meeting isn’t until ten,” he began, trying not to show how uncomfortable he was, “but I was hoping to catch you both before we get things started.” Seating himself on the opposite couch, he looked at his hands, then back up at Helen. Of all the people he could be telling this to, he knew she would give him the benefit of the doubt. If only the whole thing didn’t so farfetched....
“Look, Magnus can tell you, what I know about magic wouldn’t fill so much as a thimble,” he started again. “Even so, I have some…suggestions for how this needs to happen.” Because he knew her so well, he caught the minute signs of surprise on Helen’s face.
“Okay. Like what?” It was Willow who asked, and she seemed open to his input. He outlined the people and their roles from his dream, forcing himself to continue even when he heard Helen’s slight gasp at the mention of her ex-fiancée.
“Why on Earth would you suggest that, Will?” she asked. “You know how dangerous it is to have John here.” She glanced at the witch and didn’t go into detail. They both knew the energy elemental cohabiting in John’s body could regain control while he was at Sanctuary. It had left a path of havoc and death before and wouldn’t hesitate to do so again. John’s choice to stay away saved Helen the pain telling him he was unwelcome, but the whole thing was still seldom discussed.
Even knowing the risks, and the pain the discussion would cause the woman who had given him so much, Will made himself continue. “If the spell is going to work, it needs to have as many people here with a vested interest in bringing down the Cabal as we can manage.” He paused, looking to Willow for conformation. She nodded, despite her confused expression. He dropped his gaze to the tea. “And it is more likely to work if those who were there for our original conflict are present, right?” Again, he looked to Willow.
“Okay, for a guy who doesn’t have a background in magic, you have a really good grasp of the underlying concepts,” Willow noted.
“Not really. I had help,” Will replied. “A while ago, I had what you might call a near death experience. It was nearer than most. I was actually dead for a while.” He deliberately left his ties to the Kali out of his explanation. “When I came back, I guess you could say I was a little different. Ever since then, I’ve been having these dreams…” The words wanted to stick in his throat. It felt wrong to give voice to something so private, but this was too important to keep to himself. “I know it’s going to sound crazy, but they are very vivid, very detailed, and they come true.” It sounded so ridiculous, even after everything he’d seen. But he’d said it at last.
“Oh, that explains it,” Willow sounded as though he’d told her two plus two was four. “Prophetic dreams are a bit much to get used to, I’m told, but they’re a really reliable way to get information. It means the Powers That Be, or whatever you want to call those in charge, want us to have the information we need to succeed.” Her body language hadn’t shifted by so much as a twitch of an eyelid. Will knew she spoke the truth, but he could only blink at her. Willow took pity on his dumbstruck expression, though she couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. “They aren’t as rare as you might think. I know someone, several someones, back home who have them,” she explained.
Relieved he wasn’t going to have to lay out all the things he’d been dreaming about, he turned to look at Magnus, only to find her smiling a little.
“Not that I’m not concerned about the effect this is having on you, Will,” she told him, “but I had imagined any number of dire explanations for your behavior in the last little while. Knowing that it’s dreams, however disturbing, is actually a relief.” She stood up and grinned at the surprised look he knew he was wearing. “We’ll talk more about it later, Will. For now, I need you to tell Willow all the details of this dream of yours. I shall go and contact John and let him know we need his help. I’ll also let Henry know we need all the usual extra monitoring on him while he is here.”
That was about what he expected, as far as it went, and Will nodded. “Okay.” He waited a beat. “Thanks.” He meant it as much for the belief in him as for the lack of pressure. He had no doubt there would be questions later, but he hadn’t realized how worried he’d been that this would change things between them until it hadn’t. Her only answer was a smile.
Maybe he was just more curious than most people, but he was surprised when Willow didn’t pepper him with questions. She gave him time to collect himself, waiting until he’d poured himself a cup of coffee from the carafe on a side table and reseated himself.
“Before you give me the run through, how much of a danger is this John person?” she asked. Her tone was even and there were no fear related cues on her manner or inflection. She didn’t seem to have any concerns about personal danger; the question appeared almost academic. That was interesting, and he noted it to think about later. That meant she was either extremely used to a high level of danger, or she was far more able to defend herself than she looked. He decided that it was probably both.
“How dangerous he is kinda depends on how you look at it. There’s a part of him that is truly lethal,” Will explained, leaving out the ‘he’s Jack the Ripper’ part of the explanation for the sake of brevity. “But he fights very hard to control that side of himself, mostly because he loves Helen more than anything.” As always, it made him feel sad and helpless to think about the situation between the two of them, but he put it aside. It wasn’t his story to tell, and there was nothing he could do about it, no matter how much he cared for Helen, or respected the man John Druitt was separate from the monster.
“I’m sorry,” Willow apologized. “I didn’t mean to bring back such painful memories, for any of you.” She meant it, he could tell, and he liked her more for the sincerity, but it was past time to change the subject.
“Apology accepted,” he told her, smiling a little at the relief he could see in her eyes. “Now why don’t I tell you about my dream?” he suggested.
***
Old City Sanctuary
West Interior Courtyard
7:38 pm
They gathered in an interior courtyard where Willow had already set up an abundance of candles and circled the entire area with salt, which she politely asked them all not to cross. Dean suspected he approved of the salt for entirely different reasons than she did, but nodded his acceptance without comment.
The whole thing seemed highly improbable. But he’d gone after thinner leads in pursuit of his brother, so he would see this one through. The red-headed magic user was certainly competent. The sense of contained power radiating off of her raised the hairs on the back of his neck every time she got close. He was fairly certain if things did get dicey, she could handle herself. The same went for Big Foot, bigger and stronger than the average human, and he looked to have no trouble at using that to his advantage. As for Kate, well, he knew a street brat when he saw one. He guessed she knew how to fight, and wouldn’t be afraid to do it dirty.
He listened while Willow detailed the roles of those who were going to be involved in the spell, and Tesla, who was minding the security set up and software. He assured them all he could handle it in his sleep. The sarcasm between Tesla and Henry lacked any real bite. They went back and forth about the protocols before being shushed by a pointed look from Magnus.
Willow tossed some herbs he couldn’t identify into a shallow dish heating on a small open flame set up in the centre of the circle as he took up his indicated position. He hadn’t expected to feel nervous, but a combination of nerves, anticipation and a tiny spark of hope knotted his stomach.
“Remember,” Willow told them, “you need to hold your position, unless you’re defending, until I finish the incantation and the last of whoever we can reach are safely inside the circle. We don’t know how many people we’re dealing with, so I structured it for overflow to go to safe places or people they have ties to. Hopefully, the bulk of them will come here, so we can make sure they’re okay.” She nodded towards a table already set up with clothing and medical supplies since there was no telling what kind of shape the souls would be in.
Willow made eye contact with everybody one last time, waiting on some invisible sign or signal. Whatever it was, she must have got it, because she began chanting a few heartbeats later. Despite her sunny disposition and modest manner, the aura of power that cloaked her as soon as she began told Dean that whoever she really was, she was a major player in the magical community, quite possibly the most powerful witch he’d ever seen working a spell. He hoped she was solidly anchored on the side of rainbows, sunshine, puppies and other good things.
Giving himself a mental shake, he focused on what he was supposed to be thinking about: his brother. He had no knowledge of the Cabal, other than what he’d been told. He wanted to throw a wrench in their works on principle. The specifics of the wrench were for others to focus on. Willow had told him that if the spell could reach anyone who was lost it would be because someone called to them, on a primal level. So he stood as still as he could, and put all his energy toward calling out to Sam, willing his brother to hear him, like so many times before.
The power in the courtyard strengthened, thickening until he could nearly taste it. A breeze sprung up to tease at their hair and clothes, and Willow grinned fiercely as her hair and eyes slowly turned white. Her voice echoed with a choral quality, as if many voices chanted with her. Dean recognized some of the words she was saying as Latin, but she spoke too quickly for him to decipher. She started out with a plea, progressing to a demand that made him glad he wasn’t on the receiving end.
Even though part of him expected it, Dean jumped when people began. Some were standing, some were laying, others were sprawled in what looked like painful positions. Most were naked or nearly so. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to go check among them for Sam, but he held his position, mindful of Willow’s warning. The incantation, and the influx of people continued, but it was taking a toll. Henry and Will were both sweating heavily and straining under an invisible weight, and Magnus looked like she too wanted to break position, likely to check on her people.
It was then that he felt a dark anger claw at him, making him feel as if someone was trying to scoop out his brains with a rusty spork. He forced himself to ignore the pain and focus on his brother, on the people scattered around, and what they were all trying to accomplish. He felt his vision grey around the edges, and a wave of dizziness took him to his knees. Then, though her incantation continued, Willow’s voice sounded in his head. “I warned you they might try to stop us. They can’t get through unless you lose focus and let them.” He could see the others stiffened. They had all heard her. He pushed his way back to his feet and forced himself to focus beyond the crushing pressure in his head.
When he thought he couldn’t hold on a second longer, the incantation wound to close. The pressure vanished, taking the worst of the pain with it. Though he still felt sick and shaky and wasn’t altogether certain someone wasn’t stabbing him through the eye socket, he was conscious. Shaking his head was a mistake. He looked around, hoping to see a familiar flash of sandy blond hair or lanky form, but there were so many people, it was impossible to tell if any of them were Sam.
They all held in place for a moment, waiting to be sure it was over. When no one else appeared, Magnus rushed over to Henry and Will, who looked about as bad as he felt. John and Kate were still scanning warily for threats, and Big Foot was moving toward the medical supplies. Dean decided methodical was the way to go and moved to one end of the group of people to begin his search for Sam. Before he reached anybody, he heard a small groan, and turned back just in time to see Willow collapse. He was fast, but Henry was faster, somehow managing to break free of his colleagues and catch her before all of her made contact with the grass.
He took another moment to be sure that the Sanctuary people had the situation under control. Magnus was a doctor, and soon announced that from all indications it looked like a simple case of exhaustion. Dean left the tending to the experts and began moving from person to person, looking for Sam.
He made it through almost all of them, cataloguing a varied group: men and women in about equal measure, some young, some old and all of them with injuries of some kind. Indeed, not all of them were conscious, though from what he could tell, they all had a strong pulse, which was good. He heard Druitt and Tesla searching as well, but disappointment was beginning to rise, so he didn’t pay attention. He’d told himself not to get his hopes up. He’d gone through all of this and there was no sign of Sam. Between the toll of the spell and his own emotions, he had to fight not to bring his breakfast up all over his battered shoes.
Continue to Part Four
Author: Xanateria
Crossover: Sanctuary/Supernatural/Buffy
See Fic Master Post for rating, warnings and author's notes.
Old City Sanctuary
Main Computer Laboratory
8:37 am
Dean was still following Kate, only this time it was back into a room dominated by large tables, with a row of desks with several computers and the equipment that came with them. As they walked in, Henry straightened up from a table in the corner and smiled at both of them. “So Kate, how did things go?”
Resting a hip against the corner of a table, Kate smiled at the shorter tech. “Oh, he did alright,” she admitted grudgingly, but turning so that Dean could see that she was still smiling. Listening to the banter with one part of his mind, Dean concentrated on presenting a calm front.
Mermaids, two-faced men, flying fairies with dirty mouths, and over-sexed furbies were just the beginning. Kate had explained that some of the residents were here because they chose to withdraw from a world that didn’t have a place for them. Others were contained because they were simply too dangerous to be allowed to roam free. Having seen the fire elemental and the oversized cross between a dinosaur and a cheetah, to say nothing of the huge lizard man, Dean could definitely believe that, but his head was spinning.
Now the warning from the odd primate chef made sense, because all of his training as a Hunter was definitely screaming at him. With an effort, he was keeping his impulses in check, but no matter what this place had as a mandate, the warrior in him wanted to put some of the residents down. It wasn’t that he enjoyed killing, but he didn’t see how some of things could be guaranteed to remain contained, no matter how many good intentions were involved.
“I was just about to explain to Dean how we keep everybody comfy cozy and make sure they all play nice,” Kate told Henry, with a sideways glance at Dean that acknowledged his basic dilemma. “But then I thought since the security protocols were your baby, you might not mind playing professor.”
“Sure, I can do that,” Henry agreed, still eyeing Dean, trying to gauge his reactions to the residents. With a passion that showed both that he was a true geek and that he loved his job, Henry explained the worldwide network of Sanctuary houses, and how they had all collaborated to create a set of security protocols, supported by some impressive technology. His mini-lecture touched on an electro-magnetic shield, sophisticated back-up generators, motion and heat sensors, and a computer network to monitor it all that was so smart it seemed about a half step from developing intelligence of its own. He downplayed his own role in it all, but while he was talking Dean got the distinct impression that Henry could give Sam a run for his money for king of geekdom.
It wasn’t his thing, but he could respect the skills it took. While one part of his mind was cataloging what the shorter man had to say, another part was wondering what the egghead was doing here. The guy was smart enough to be working for NASA or something, not to mention, other than the geek quotient, he seemed so normal. Giving himself a mental shake, he tabled the curiosity, and tuned back into the conversation. There would be time enough to wonder about things in private.
***
Once Henry had finished his explanation of how everything and everyone was kept in their place, Kate explained that Helen had called a staff meeting for whenever the tour ended. Dean assumed that meant he would be left on his own, at loose ends. She went on to explain that the lady of the house had specifically asked that he attend, so he trailed along behind them to the room he assumed was the library, given the floor to ceiling bookshelves that dominated the room. The tour hadn’t included the tamer areas on the estate. Given the sheer size of the complex, it made sense that the self explanatory rooms were left out.
Taking his place in a comfortably overstuffed chair, Dean resisted the urge to tip the chair back while he waited to see who would show up. Henry, Will, Kate, Helen and a man he didn’t know had trickled in and were gathered around the table, being served tea by the man who had cooked breakfast. Dean was surprised to find he made an excellent cup of coffee, no matter what his anger issues were. From what Dean could tell, he seemed to be some kind of butler or something. Who knew people even still had those?
Once everyone had drinks, the butler took a seat beside Henry rather than leaving, which was interesting, but not really worth focusing on once Helen started to speak. “I am not sure if we are all on the same page in terms of the current situation, which is why I called this meeting. Why Mr. Winchester is in attendance will be explained to you once we are all caught up. Dean,” she continued, looking at him directly for the first time, “the man here that you haven’t been introduced to is Nikola Tesla, an associate of mine who may be able to help us with the current situation.” Nodding in acknowledgement of the introduction, Dean tried to ignore the alarm bells Nikola was setting off in the back of his mind as Helen continued. “I know all of you are all too aware of what the Cabal is capable of. What you may or may not know is that their current resurgence has connections to a portion of evil the Sanctuary network has never had to deal with directly before.” Here she paused, looking almost hesitant, but her voice was calm and sure when she continued.
“It seems there is no limit to what they will stoop to in order to rebuild, and as such, they have found backing within the demon community.” It was a straightforward statement followed by a lull, but Dean didn’t think there would be a long wait before the denials and he tipped his chair back to watch the fireworks.
“You can’t be serious.” Kate didn’t raise her voice, but the profound skepticism in her tone came through nonetheless.
“I assure you, when it comes to the Cabal, I am never anything but deadly serious, and I meant what I said,” Helen answered.
“Look, I understand you mean what you say, but Magnus, demons are just a myth, a legend spun by various societies that needed a boogeyman,” Henry interjected, looking upset to be going against the boss he idolized, but doing it anyway. The man had more balls than Dean had given him credit for. Will hadn’t chimed in yet, but rather than looking like he wanted to comment, he had turned pale and was staring at Dean like he was waiting for him to speak. That was odd, but then, the young doctor had been acting oddly from the get go. Dean gave him a smile full of teeth, just to watch the man sweat.
“Henry, after working for me this long, you should know there is more to this world than most people can imagine. How many suburbanites would say the same thing about werewolves being fairy stories?” Helen answered, with enough of an edge to her tone that Dean ticked off his question to what Henry’s flavor of difference might be. It was a little disconcerting, because the guy didn’t come off as a werewolf, but that was a question for a different day. Somehow, he was under control, or he would be in one of the enclosures.
Before Magnus could continue, Dean let his chair come down with a thud that drew everyone’s attention. “I know that you people don’t know me, so you don’t know whether I would lie to you or not. Believe me when I say I have good reasons to tell the truth. I can tell you demons are very definitely real.” Pausing for breath, he raised his voice and rolled over the beginnings of protests. “I’ve spent my life hunting different nasties, but what I have hunted most often are demons. I’ve gone up against a lot of them and I’m still walking around breathing air, so I guess you could say I won. But it wasn’t easy. I’ve lost people, people who mattered to me.” He wouldn’t think of Sam, or anyone else. He couldn’t or he’d lose all credibility.
“So, feel free to tell me that demons wouldn’t have a reason to take up with big business or that there is some other reason they aren’t mixed up in your current mess, but don’t tell me demons aren’t real.” He was breathing a little harder than he intended, but he hoped the harshness of his tone would be chalked up to trying his hardest to convince them.
For a heartbeat or two no one said anything. Henry looked worried. Kate seemed more angry than anything else. Will he couldn’t read. Nikola looked disturbingly intrigued, which said a lot about the kinds of things that made him tick. There was a surprising break to the silence.
“The boy is right,” said the butler. He didn’t sound happy to be agreeing, but he did it anyway. “Demons are real. My people have seen them, dealt with them, as best they could. Much as I hate to say it, we need to know what he knows about such creatures, if we want to understand the Cabal and what they are moving to do now.”
“For the sake of saving time, even if you all don’t completely believe it now, will you concede I would not lie to you?” Helen asked. After a moment, everyone agreed, though some more reluctantly than others, so she continued. “I asked Dean to sit in on this meeting. No matter why he came here, demons are his area of expertise. I believe he can give us all a working knowledge of what we are up against, so that we can formulate a plan of action.” It was phrased as a polite request, but what else was he expecting from such a proper English woman? He wasn’t exactly in a position to refuse. Even if he wanted to, what was left of his own conscience wouldn’t let him send them into a demon fight blind. There was already more than enough blood on his hands.
“Okay then. The first thing you need to know about is salt,” he began.
“And what good is a table condiment, exactly?” The lazy drawl had definite bite to it, but that was fine. Tesla had stayed quiet until now, but apparently felt the need to add some testosterone to the room. Then again, learning the monsters under your bed were real was never easy, Dean supposed.
“Quite a lot of good actually,” he replied, refusing to rise to the bait. “A salt line will protect you from demons, no matter where they are on the totem pole, so long as you aren’t stupid enough to break it, or let someone else break it. Speaking of other people, demons can take over a body and wear a person like you would wear a new suit, so once I’ve covered all the ways to tell if a person is possessed or not, please don’t forget,” he urged them. It was all a lot to take in, but he was just getting started, so they might as well adjust to the hardest parts first.
***
International Council of Watchers and Slayers
London Branch
Willow Rosenberg’s Office
5:05 pm
No matter what the content was, a new research project always made Willow feel better. Well, maybe not if she was researching why bunches of people died horribly, but this wasn’t about deaths, at least not yet. The research divisions on all continents had standing orders to keep an eye out for large scale demonic activity, and had tagged the Cabal months ago. The problem was going through all the raw data while trying to determine which demon, or demons, happened to be pulling the strings. So far they hadn’t come up with a name. But the rumors about what they were up to didn’t look good.
The research was a welcome distraction for the petty office squabbles she’d been dealing with for most of the day. Buffy and Giles had left early in the morning to deal with some Slayer related emergency in Scotland. Tanya, the lead Slayer assigned there, had been killed and the rest of her squad were badly injured.
With the two of them away, Andrew decided to air all of his complaints, which meant everyone else in the sprawling mansion converted to offices was about ready to kill him. Willow had locked herself in the office and given the girls orders to sort it out with him. Hurting him a little bit wasn’t outside the realm of possibility, but they weren’t allowed to kill him. Other than that, she didn’t want to hear about it.
Muttering to herself about the next set of possible higher level demons to check, Willow almost didn’t hear the incoming email. When she clicked over to the appropriate tab, a small smile crossed her face. This informant was definitely worth listening to. Spike had gone to see what he could find out two days ago, and this was the first time he’d bothered to check in. His news wasn’t good. By the time she was finished reading, Willow couldn’t decide between being angry or scared. Dashing off a quick email to Giles, she pushed back from the computer and went looking for Deena, a newish arrival, who until recently had been training with Xander in the States. “Deena, I’m going to have to leave, so I’m putting you in charge until Giles gets back. He told me he would be busy for at least two days. I’m not sure if he and Buffy were coming straight back here on not, though. Don’t make any major decisions unless you check with Xander or Faith. Make sure you keep up the current training and patrol schedules. And tell Buffy and Giles I’ll check in with them as soon as I can.” Her tone didn’t allow for disagreement, and even as she talked she was cataloguing what else needed to be done before she could leave.
To her credit, Deena didn’t waste time asking questions or arguing, only nodded calmly. “Gotcha. Is this a Slayer related problem? ‘Cause if it is, I need to put some of the girls on alert.”
Shaking her head, Willow took a second to switch gears to be reassuring. “No, this is something else that Giles put me on. I just need to make sure it gets dealt with properly, so I’ll need to be out of touch for a little while.” There was no way to tell exactly how long it was going to take to explain the situation to Giles’ friend, so she purposely left her time frame vague. Once Deena had headed back the way she came, presumably to let the rest of the girls know about the change in upcoming plans, Willow walked very quickly back to her office. She didn’t run, because she didn’t want to panic anyone who saw her, but it was very close. That was the trouble with having the office and the residences in the same building. Everyone was constantly underfoot, and when something big happened, unless you were very careful, everyone knew about it almost immediately. This wasn’t council business though, so she owed it to the other people involved to try and be discreet.
Though she had a secretary, and wasn’t that just weird, Fiona had already gone home for the day, so she dialed the number Giles had given her, and waited while the call connected. When she asked for Helen Magnus, she ended up on hold again, but it was only for a minute or two, which was something.
“This is Magnus,” a well modulated English voice announced.
“Hi, this is Willow Rosenberg calling. I got your number from Giles. He asked me to look into the demonic activity linked to the Cabal for you,” Willow explained, being sure to keep her growing sense of dread out of her voice. Now that she was talking the other woman, alarm bells were ringing in the back of her mind. Whatever the big picture was, it wasn’t good, and judging by how much it was affecting her, it was more important than she thought. “I’m calling because I think I know what they are up to, and it isn’t good,” she explained. When it came to bad news, simple was better.
“Yes, of course, Willow, thank you for getting back to us so quickly. What exactly have you found out?” Magnus asked.
“Well, from what our sources can tell, the Cabal hasn’t found one demon backer, they’ve found several, and they are way high up on the food chain. These are major players, and what’s worse, they’ve positioned foot soldiers at every level and location of the corporate structure. That’s the sort of thing you don’t do unless you are gearing up for a major battle.” Much as she hated to be so negative, it was important the other woman understand the implications.
There was a sigh, and then a slight pause. “Well, they already declared war on us once,” Magnus agreed. “It seems they plan on doing it again.”
“I wish I could disagree with you,” Willow told her sincerely. “There’s more.” She paused, questioning her decision for a moment, but her gut told her it was the right thing. “I think it would be best if we discussed this in person.” There was another pause, and Magnus began what sounded like a carefully prepared, very polite brush off, but Willow broke in before she could get anywhere. “Look, I know you do some fairly top-secret stuff there. Giles gave me the run down without the details before he left. And believe me, I will keep my mouth shut. I know about keeping important secrets. I’ve been doing it since high school, but you need to hear what else I know and you need to hear it, and it really isn’t wise to discuss some things over the phone.”
“Well, I defer to your judgment that we need to hear it,” Magnus reluctantly agreed. “But if you’re right, then shouldn’t you tell me now, rather than making me wait however many hours it’s going to take you to get here?”
Resisting the urge to giggle, Willow pictured the layout of Magnus’ office that Giles had described to her, and shook her head. “As long as you trust me enough on Giles’ say so to deactivate all of your external entry security protocols for a second, it won’t take nearly as long as you think.”
For the first time, the serious tone of the conversation lightened, and Magnus sounded genuinely curious when she spoke. “I suppose I do. When would you want us to do so?”
“How does right now suit you?” Willow replied, picking up the overnight bag she kept in the office for just such contingencies. Her laptop didn’t handle this kind of travel well, but she was sure she’d be able to access the information she needed from pretty much anywhere.
“I’m not sure I understand,” Magnus was saying, cautious, but still polite. “But in the interests of satisfying a curiosity, give me a moment.” There was a soft click, as she set the phone down, and then her voice was back in Willow’s ear. “I’ve allowed for a very short window, as that’s all that is safe for us to do,” she explained, but a heartbeat later the dial tone sounded in her ear because Willow had hung up and initiated the easiest of the teleportation spells in her repertoire.
“That’s alright,” Willow told her, from just inside the door to her office. I travel fast and light.”
Other than a slight widening of her eyes, Helen Magnus was remarkably calm about having a girl she’d never met popping up under her nose. She supposed anyone with the background it sounded like Magnus had would be fast on their feet with surprises.
“Well, I must say, you certainly are efficient,” the older woman said, after only the slightest of pauses.
“Thanks,” Willow replied, coming over to shake hands. “I’d love to say I’d heard a lot about you but Giles was sparse with the details.” Giving her head a tiny shake, she refocused on the point behind her impromptu visit. “So do you want me to fill you in now, or are there other people who are on the need to know list?”
“Well, now that you’re here, it’s probably best I gather everyone so you only have to tell us once,” Magnus decided. “Let’s go down to the library and I’ll have everyone meet us there.”
The good doctor was efficient herself. While Willow wondered idly about her medical specialty after noticing the diplomas in her office, they went down to a library that made her drool. As she was coveting the stacks, they were seated around an antique wooden table with a group Magnus had introduced as her friends: Will, Henry, Kate, and Big Foot, which she assumed was a nickname. There was also and an associate by the name of Tesla, and a younger guy named Dean with a bad boy air she kinda liked. Once Magnus had explained why she was there, though conveniently not how she’d arrived, Willow quit trying to link the names to the faces and got down to business.
“I won’t bother going back over the steps we took to figure all this out, though I can explain later if anyone is interested. The important point is that the Cabal activity paired up with the demon activity all paints a picture of a bunch of really big evil gearing up to do some really bad things,” she started. “And the icing on their likely very disgusting cake is that they aren’t just recruiting the Cabal and their people, or just low level demons. They’re conscripting, but with a twist. The last of our people to check in said he got wind of a major operation that they are planning. If they’re successful, they’re pulling all the souls out of Purgatory to help do their dirty work for them, too.” Just the thought of it made anger burn through Willow, but she was careful to control it. She’d never liked the idea of Purgatory anyway; it seemed unfair to make people live, or more precisely die, in limbo. But she wasn’t the one calling those shots, so all she could do now was hopefully prevent anyone from messing with the balance.
Her thoughts had wandered long enough that the rest of the table was looking at her quizzically, but that could have been caused by what she was saying, too. She didn’t have time to bring them all up to speed on the relevant facts they may or may not have believed. “I know it sounds crazy, though not as crazy as some of the things I’ve had to go with over the years. This will all be a lot easier if you all just take my word for it. Magic is real, spells do work, and Heaven, Hell and Purgatory are as real as the table we are sitting at right now. They want the souls from Purgatory because if you pull someone out of there, and you have no conscience, it’s pretty easy to force them to do what you want.” She didn’t like having to rush them, but she wasn’t finished yet. “The spell I’m telling you about is set to happen in two days, which means we have slightly over a day to make sure it doesn’t happen. Or we hijack it.”
That certainly got Magnus’ attention. “We can do that?” she asked, looking at Willow intently.
Honestly compelled her to backpedal a bit. “Well, we should be able to, but that sort of thing can be tricky. It’s hard to match the exact elements for a spell at the best of times. We only have second hand information, and we can’t be sure they won’t choose a different one at the last minute. There is always the possibility that whoever they have doing the casting is strong enough to block me,” Willow explained. There was also a possibility she would start living on the moon. She didn’t want to sound like she was bragging, so she didn’t say that. “I didn’t get a chance to research the spell in detail, but I can do that from here. Once I’m familiar with it, I can tell you what we’ll need.”
With a frown, she looked down at the table top. She didn’t know these people well enough to know exactly where they stood in terms of ethics, but she had a good feeling about them. Some things still needed to be said. “A crash course in magic could take days, so I won’t bother. What you all need to know that if we do this, there will be a price, physically, emotionally, I can’t tell you exactly what it will be, but that’s one of the basic rules. Everything has a price. If you aren’t prepared to pay whatever it is to bring down the Cabal, then we shouldn’t do anything. It’s safer that way.” She could tell that they looked at her and saw the pretty face and didn’t understand that she knew what she was talking about, so she let her usual mask slip just enough to show how much she meant what she said next. “I should tell you, in case you’re getting any ideas: this spell doesn’t reach anyone who is happily in Heaven. I will not help you modify it so that it does. Trust me, it’s better that way.” The thought of what Buffy had gone through when the Scoobies pulled her out of Heaven years ago made her voice shake.
“Okay, so the spell won’t grab anyone in Heaven. I get that,” said the bad boy, whose name she was pretty sure was Dean. “But how do you know if a person is in Purgatory? If the spell will reach them, I mean.”
There was such pain under the words that Willow wished she had a better answer. “You don’t,” she told him gently. “But you can hope, and if I were you, I would try a little praying.” He didn’t answer, but the grimace that he made told her he wasn’t likely to take her advice. Wondering who he had lost, she gave a mental shrug. She didn’t know him well enough to ask, and his loss didn’t change the answer.
“The only reason this whole idea even works is because in the cosmic scheme of things, those who are in limbo haven’t been claimed as dead and gone yet,” Willow clarified. “Purgatory isn’t really a separate place, it’s just the label given to the place for souls who haven’t been claimed: people who died with major unfinished business, or when they weren’t supposed to, that sort of thing. It’s like being on the fringes of either Heaven or Hell. If we do things right, we claim them for our side, but I should also tell you, the price I mentioned? They’ll be paying it too. Something else you might want to think about. I mean, I wouldn’t want eternal limbo, but it might be better than the alternative. There’s just no way to know for sure until it would be too late to change your minds.”
This time it was the young psychiatrist who spoke up. “Given that the alternative involves demons, I’m pretty sure that even if you’re right, any of the people we’re talking about will be better off.” He paused, almost like he would say more, but then fell silent.
“Okay, well, I just thought I should make sure you all understood,” Willow agreed. “I’ll get started on the research I need to do,” she decided, by way of dismissing the meeting. “It shouldn’t take me long to have a game plan.” It would be weird doing research without the usual sugary snack goodness, but she would just have to make do. There hadn’t been time to stop for doughnuts.
***
Old City Sanctuary
Will Zimmerman’s Room
6:03 pm
He’d only meant to stretch out to get the stiffness out of his back, but as his head made contact with the bed he was drifting off, sucked into sleep far faster than he would have thought possible. Everything was hazy and indistinct as he transitioned, and when it cleared he was watching from a position just inside the archway leading to the central garden courtyard.
Everyone was there: Magnus, Big Guy, Henry, Tesla, Kate, Dean, Willow, and even himself. Watching himself seemed natural. His focus shifted, though he couldn’t have said why, and he noticed that Druitt was there, too. He seemed in control of himself. Will continued to watch, as a small corner of his mind wondered what exactly what was going on.
As he stepped closer to better see what was going on, Willow walked up to Magnus.“We’re nearly ready. I just wanted to say, I’m sorry if him having here causes you pain,” she made a slight head tilt towards Druitt. “But, we need the people here who were part of your original involvement. If it helps, the spell is more likely to work if whoever you want to believe is in charge of such things-- god, goddess, whatever - can see that you have good reason to be granted what we’re asking.”
Though her eyes were very dark, a sure sign she was upset, Magnus only nodded calmly. “Thank you for telling me. Don’t worry, I’m quite used to dealing with all of this,” she finished. Willow still looked uncomfortable, but she didn’t say anything in reply before she moved away to fuss with some items on a side table.
When she was finished, she turned back to face the group and cleared her throat. “I know you each have different reasons for why this matters to you. That’s important because it means you each have different roles to play tonight.” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “Helen, you’re the anchor. You have the deepest and most intimate knowledge of the Sanctuary. Since that’s where we want to bring any of the people we can grab, we’re gonna need that.” Will watched as Helen nodded, her expression gravely serious. “Will and Henry, of the group, you are the most psychically sensitive, and you lean toward the medium side of the spectrum. I can use your energy and focus it toward the specific goal of grabbing souls.” Will wanted to ask questions, but somehow he knew that no one would hear him. “Mr. Big Foot, although your energy leans toward the medium side of things, what I’m going to be using you for is balance. Just like in everyday life, your energy will help balance everyone else’s into a coherent whole.” She paused for a breath, looking slightly pleased when Big Guy nodded, with no signs of amusement at her formality with his name.
“Dean, you were involved with magic before, so, more than anything, what I need from you is your belief. You know this can work, and I need you to share that certainty with everyone else. It’ll balance out the skeptics,” Willow added.
Dean leaned on the edge of one of the stone benches in the courtyard, and nodded in acceptance of his role.
Taking a deep breath, Willow launched into the only part of her explanation that seemed to make her a bit uncomfortable. “If I was the badies that are casting this, I would be anticipating problems. That’s where you and John come in,” she said, with a long look at Kate.
Though he couldn’t have said exactly how he knew, Will could see the young redhead looking for signs of hesitancy or doubt.
“You’re going to be playing defense. As part of the spell, I need you to focus on not allowing anyone to interfere. I’ve set things up so that if anyone tries to stop our hijacking, you’ll be able to deal with it without disrupting what the rest of us are doing.” Again, there were only nods in answer to her explanation. She waited a beat, but there were no questions. Willow stepped away from the group to finish the set up. There were pillar candles, lines of what he thought was probably salt, and other things he couldn’t identify from his distance.
Even as he tried to catalogue the details, a habit too ingrained to break even in his dreams, everything shifted again and he was in a room he didn’t recognize. It was night, and the middle of it, judging by how dark it was. Wherever he was, it was warm, and scented with flowers, though he couldn’t have named which ones. The realization that he was dreaming came slowly, but it didn’t bother him.
There was something else he was there to do, and he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, wake up until it was done. Even as the thought drifted across his mind, a single flame lit in the centre of the room. The space it illuminated was uninhabited, richly furnished. As he studied them, the details stood out. The deep brown wood of the chairs and table, antiques by the look of them. The carpet was so soft and deep he was happy to be barefoot. The voice seemed to come from everywhere at once. It was female, and softly amused. “Always thinking, with you, trying to see patterns where there is only random chance.”
“Force of habit,” Will acknowledged, even as he looked around to find the speaker. There was no one, the room was still empty.
“I have a message for you, if you wish to hear it. I cannot tell you from whom; you must know that for yourself. But the message is simple. Some connections cannot be completely broken, and some gifts aren’t meant to be understood. Your dreams are a gift, in grateful thanks. But they are not the only change you will find in yourself, if only you have the courage to look.”
“These dreams, are they really of things to come?” he asked, giving voice the suspicion that had been gnawing at him since Dean had arrived at Sanctuary.
“Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?” asked the voice, though there was a thread of sympathy there now “It was thought that you deserved a reward for all that you have done. You dream of possibilities. Even for us, there are choices. You can always choose not to heed to warnings you are given, or to reject the gift inside yourself.” As the words faded into silence, the flame went out, leaving him alone in the dark, bereft.
Though he had more questions than ever, there was no one to ask. He shifted to leave and woke up on his bed. A quick glance at his watch told him he’d lost less than an hour to sleep, or whatever he’d been doing. His neck was protesting, but other than that he was no worse for wear. With a sigh, he put his glasses on and got up. A headache started pounding behind his eyes as he thought about telling Magnus his dream revelations. If he was lucky, Willow would already know all of the necessary details and he wouldn’t have to say anything. A guy could hope.
***
Old City Sanctuary
Library
9:30 am
Though he’d fully intended to come clean to Magnus the day before, the day had slipped away from him before he could decide what to say. When Willow had announced that she would update everybody the following morning, he made it a point to get to the library before anyone else. His boss and Willow sat on one of the couches, and looked to be enjoying a mutual tea love fest. Before he could talk himself out of it, he went over to join them, and interrupted the conversation.
“I know the meeting isn’t until ten,” he began, trying not to show how uncomfortable he was, “but I was hoping to catch you both before we get things started.” Seating himself on the opposite couch, he looked at his hands, then back up at Helen. Of all the people he could be telling this to, he knew she would give him the benefit of the doubt. If only the whole thing didn’t so farfetched....
“Look, Magnus can tell you, what I know about magic wouldn’t fill so much as a thimble,” he started again. “Even so, I have some…suggestions for how this needs to happen.” Because he knew her so well, he caught the minute signs of surprise on Helen’s face.
“Okay. Like what?” It was Willow who asked, and she seemed open to his input. He outlined the people and their roles from his dream, forcing himself to continue even when he heard Helen’s slight gasp at the mention of her ex-fiancée.
“Why on Earth would you suggest that, Will?” she asked. “You know how dangerous it is to have John here.” She glanced at the witch and didn’t go into detail. They both knew the energy elemental cohabiting in John’s body could regain control while he was at Sanctuary. It had left a path of havoc and death before and wouldn’t hesitate to do so again. John’s choice to stay away saved Helen the pain telling him he was unwelcome, but the whole thing was still seldom discussed.
Even knowing the risks, and the pain the discussion would cause the woman who had given him so much, Will made himself continue. “If the spell is going to work, it needs to have as many people here with a vested interest in bringing down the Cabal as we can manage.” He paused, looking to Willow for conformation. She nodded, despite her confused expression. He dropped his gaze to the tea. “And it is more likely to work if those who were there for our original conflict are present, right?” Again, he looked to Willow.
“Okay, for a guy who doesn’t have a background in magic, you have a really good grasp of the underlying concepts,” Willow noted.
“Not really. I had help,” Will replied. “A while ago, I had what you might call a near death experience. It was nearer than most. I was actually dead for a while.” He deliberately left his ties to the Kali out of his explanation. “When I came back, I guess you could say I was a little different. Ever since then, I’ve been having these dreams…” The words wanted to stick in his throat. It felt wrong to give voice to something so private, but this was too important to keep to himself. “I know it’s going to sound crazy, but they are very vivid, very detailed, and they come true.” It sounded so ridiculous, even after everything he’d seen. But he’d said it at last.
“Oh, that explains it,” Willow sounded as though he’d told her two plus two was four. “Prophetic dreams are a bit much to get used to, I’m told, but they’re a really reliable way to get information. It means the Powers That Be, or whatever you want to call those in charge, want us to have the information we need to succeed.” Her body language hadn’t shifted by so much as a twitch of an eyelid. Will knew she spoke the truth, but he could only blink at her. Willow took pity on his dumbstruck expression, though she couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. “They aren’t as rare as you might think. I know someone, several someones, back home who have them,” she explained.
Relieved he wasn’t going to have to lay out all the things he’d been dreaming about, he turned to look at Magnus, only to find her smiling a little.
“Not that I’m not concerned about the effect this is having on you, Will,” she told him, “but I had imagined any number of dire explanations for your behavior in the last little while. Knowing that it’s dreams, however disturbing, is actually a relief.” She stood up and grinned at the surprised look he knew he was wearing. “We’ll talk more about it later, Will. For now, I need you to tell Willow all the details of this dream of yours. I shall go and contact John and let him know we need his help. I’ll also let Henry know we need all the usual extra monitoring on him while he is here.”
That was about what he expected, as far as it went, and Will nodded. “Okay.” He waited a beat. “Thanks.” He meant it as much for the belief in him as for the lack of pressure. He had no doubt there would be questions later, but he hadn’t realized how worried he’d been that this would change things between them until it hadn’t. Her only answer was a smile.
Maybe he was just more curious than most people, but he was surprised when Willow didn’t pepper him with questions. She gave him time to collect himself, waiting until he’d poured himself a cup of coffee from the carafe on a side table and reseated himself.
“Before you give me the run through, how much of a danger is this John person?” she asked. Her tone was even and there were no fear related cues on her manner or inflection. She didn’t seem to have any concerns about personal danger; the question appeared almost academic. That was interesting, and he noted it to think about later. That meant she was either extremely used to a high level of danger, or she was far more able to defend herself than she looked. He decided that it was probably both.
“How dangerous he is kinda depends on how you look at it. There’s a part of him that is truly lethal,” Will explained, leaving out the ‘he’s Jack the Ripper’ part of the explanation for the sake of brevity. “But he fights very hard to control that side of himself, mostly because he loves Helen more than anything.” As always, it made him feel sad and helpless to think about the situation between the two of them, but he put it aside. It wasn’t his story to tell, and there was nothing he could do about it, no matter how much he cared for Helen, or respected the man John Druitt was separate from the monster.
“I’m sorry,” Willow apologized. “I didn’t mean to bring back such painful memories, for any of you.” She meant it, he could tell, and he liked her more for the sincerity, but it was past time to change the subject.
“Apology accepted,” he told her, smiling a little at the relief he could see in her eyes. “Now why don’t I tell you about my dream?” he suggested.
***
Old City Sanctuary
West Interior Courtyard
7:38 pm
They gathered in an interior courtyard where Willow had already set up an abundance of candles and circled the entire area with salt, which she politely asked them all not to cross. Dean suspected he approved of the salt for entirely different reasons than she did, but nodded his acceptance without comment.
The whole thing seemed highly improbable. But he’d gone after thinner leads in pursuit of his brother, so he would see this one through. The red-headed magic user was certainly competent. The sense of contained power radiating off of her raised the hairs on the back of his neck every time she got close. He was fairly certain if things did get dicey, she could handle herself. The same went for Big Foot, bigger and stronger than the average human, and he looked to have no trouble at using that to his advantage. As for Kate, well, he knew a street brat when he saw one. He guessed she knew how to fight, and wouldn’t be afraid to do it dirty.
He listened while Willow detailed the roles of those who were going to be involved in the spell, and Tesla, who was minding the security set up and software. He assured them all he could handle it in his sleep. The sarcasm between Tesla and Henry lacked any real bite. They went back and forth about the protocols before being shushed by a pointed look from Magnus.
Willow tossed some herbs he couldn’t identify into a shallow dish heating on a small open flame set up in the centre of the circle as he took up his indicated position. He hadn’t expected to feel nervous, but a combination of nerves, anticipation and a tiny spark of hope knotted his stomach.
“Remember,” Willow told them, “you need to hold your position, unless you’re defending, until I finish the incantation and the last of whoever we can reach are safely inside the circle. We don’t know how many people we’re dealing with, so I structured it for overflow to go to safe places or people they have ties to. Hopefully, the bulk of them will come here, so we can make sure they’re okay.” She nodded towards a table already set up with clothing and medical supplies since there was no telling what kind of shape the souls would be in.
Willow made eye contact with everybody one last time, waiting on some invisible sign or signal. Whatever it was, she must have got it, because she began chanting a few heartbeats later. Despite her sunny disposition and modest manner, the aura of power that cloaked her as soon as she began told Dean that whoever she really was, she was a major player in the magical community, quite possibly the most powerful witch he’d ever seen working a spell. He hoped she was solidly anchored on the side of rainbows, sunshine, puppies and other good things.
Giving himself a mental shake, he focused on what he was supposed to be thinking about: his brother. He had no knowledge of the Cabal, other than what he’d been told. He wanted to throw a wrench in their works on principle. The specifics of the wrench were for others to focus on. Willow had told him that if the spell could reach anyone who was lost it would be because someone called to them, on a primal level. So he stood as still as he could, and put all his energy toward calling out to Sam, willing his brother to hear him, like so many times before.
The power in the courtyard strengthened, thickening until he could nearly taste it. A breeze sprung up to tease at their hair and clothes, and Willow grinned fiercely as her hair and eyes slowly turned white. Her voice echoed with a choral quality, as if many voices chanted with her. Dean recognized some of the words she was saying as Latin, but she spoke too quickly for him to decipher. She started out with a plea, progressing to a demand that made him glad he wasn’t on the receiving end.
Even though part of him expected it, Dean jumped when people began. Some were standing, some were laying, others were sprawled in what looked like painful positions. Most were naked or nearly so. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to go check among them for Sam, but he held his position, mindful of Willow’s warning. The incantation, and the influx of people continued, but it was taking a toll. Henry and Will were both sweating heavily and straining under an invisible weight, and Magnus looked like she too wanted to break position, likely to check on her people.
It was then that he felt a dark anger claw at him, making him feel as if someone was trying to scoop out his brains with a rusty spork. He forced himself to ignore the pain and focus on his brother, on the people scattered around, and what they were all trying to accomplish. He felt his vision grey around the edges, and a wave of dizziness took him to his knees. Then, though her incantation continued, Willow’s voice sounded in his head. “I warned you they might try to stop us. They can’t get through unless you lose focus and let them.” He could see the others stiffened. They had all heard her. He pushed his way back to his feet and forced himself to focus beyond the crushing pressure in his head.
When he thought he couldn’t hold on a second longer, the incantation wound to close. The pressure vanished, taking the worst of the pain with it. Though he still felt sick and shaky and wasn’t altogether certain someone wasn’t stabbing him through the eye socket, he was conscious. Shaking his head was a mistake. He looked around, hoping to see a familiar flash of sandy blond hair or lanky form, but there were so many people, it was impossible to tell if any of them were Sam.
They all held in place for a moment, waiting to be sure it was over. When no one else appeared, Magnus rushed over to Henry and Will, who looked about as bad as he felt. John and Kate were still scanning warily for threats, and Big Foot was moving toward the medical supplies. Dean decided methodical was the way to go and moved to one end of the group of people to begin his search for Sam. Before he reached anybody, he heard a small groan, and turned back just in time to see Willow collapse. He was fast, but Henry was faster, somehow managing to break free of his colleagues and catch her before all of her made contact with the grass.
He took another moment to be sure that the Sanctuary people had the situation under control. Magnus was a doctor, and soon announced that from all indications it looked like a simple case of exhaustion. Dean left the tending to the experts and began moving from person to person, looking for Sam.
He made it through almost all of them, cataloguing a varied group: men and women in about equal measure, some young, some old and all of them with injuries of some kind. Indeed, not all of them were conscious, though from what he could tell, they all had a strong pulse, which was good. He heard Druitt and Tesla searching as well, but disappointment was beginning to rise, so he didn’t pay attention. He’d told himself not to get his hopes up. He’d gone through all of this and there was no sign of Sam. Between the toll of the spell and his own emotions, he had to fight not to bring his breakfast up all over his battered shoes.
Continue to Part Four