The Mercy Seat (part 12)
Work sucks. Two weeks left.
Mom's being passive agressive. Three months left.
This story is frickin' insane. No idea how much left.
Previous parts may be found here
Dawn loosened her grip slightly as Xander slowly stopped shaking. She couldn't believe it. That she would turn a corner in London and literally run into the man she and her friends had spent the last year searching for was beyond coincidence. Had she brought him here? Was she somehow able to channel the seemingly dormant key energy to breach the boundaries between hell and her own world? She had been hoping, certainly, that he would return, and soon, but she'd expected it to be when Willow had found a spell, when they could retrieve Xander and comfort him from the safe confines of the council, not find him here on the street. She leaned back slightly, studying him. She squeezed his arm, once, just to reassure herself that he was real.
He was. And he was looking back at her with an expression of absolute relief. She shuddered internally, imagining what he might have gone through. "You ready?"
Xander twitched slightly, his head moving in a minute nod. Before they could climb to their feet, however, he shot backwards out of her grasp, muttering to himself. Dawn jumped. "What--"
"How sweet."
Dawn spun. A grathnal demon in a long coat and wide-brimmed hat grinned at them. Xander pushed himself further away, seemingly about to bolt. Dawn caught what he was muttering now: a simple repetition of the word "no" at a rapid pace. Had the demon followed him?
"Is this another one, Harris?" The demon stepped closer. "Tell you what, I'll do her for free. Then we can talk about debts."
Xander snapped his head back to the demon, his lips curling in a feral snarl. Before Dawn could react, he was on his feet, pushing her none-too-gently out of the way, and attacking the demon.
Barehanded.
"Xander!" Dawn screamed.
"Run!" He screamed back, not even turning from the creature. She watched in frozen fascination for a moment as they fought.
Xander had never been a very skilled fighter. His method was geared more towards body blows and bar brawl moves than any distinct fighting style. What he lacked in skill he made up in enthusiasm. When he managed to defeat an enemy, it was usually due to sheer determination and a few underhanded tricks.
This was not the Xander she knew.
He was nowhere near a match for a slayer in strength or dexterity, but he moved with a wild agility that he'd never had before. Where once he might have tried to tackle the demon, here he ducked and wove like a boxer, swinging wide, uncontrolled limbs at it whenever there appeared to be an opening.
Grathnal demons had more tricks than just pointed teeth, though. Xander should have known that, he'd fought them before. As he moved, she caught glimpses of the scar he bore to prove it. The demon was toying with him for now, but at any moment it would bring that large, curving claw into play, and Xander would most likely die.
She shook her head sharply to clear it. She was not about to let that happen. The large dagger she carried had gone spinning out of her bag when she and Xander had collided and was probably permanently lost. She searched around her for some other weapon, then snatched up the long stick Xander had been swinging at her only a short while before. It wasn't perfect; grathnals, unlike vampires, had no particular aversion to wood, and even a heart blow wouldn't be enough to kill it. It would be enough to slow it down and let them get away.
She gripped the staff loosely, placing the forked end against her shoulder for added range and power. Neither combatant seemed to notice her, so she stepped back, circling around them, and took careful aim. Then, just as the grathnal's claw sliced through Xander's shoulder, she screamed and lunged.
The wood of the staff bowed slightly, but held as it slid through skin and muscle, straight through the creature's heart. The grathnal shook slightly, then collapsed, leaving Dawn struggling to pull the staff back out. Xander stared down at the demon for a long moment, his hand gripping his arm. She freed the weapon and stepped over the demon to his side.
"We've got to get going, Xan. It's not--"
A hissing noise drew her attention. The demon on the ground had begun to bubble, and slowly dissolved into a brownish-goo. Dawn stared.
She looked at the weapon in her hand, with the point on the one end and the sling on the other, then back at the goo, which was rapidly evaporating. She looked at the weapon. She recognized it, though she'd never seen one in "real life" before. Xander himself had loaned her the books, back before she even knew what a slayer was. She looked at Xander, then shook him to get his attention.
"Xander," she kept her voice low, so as not to startle him. She maintained eye contact, speaking slowly. "Where the hell did you get a magic hoopak?"
Xander stared at her for a long moment, then gently took the staff from her. He held it in his hands, turning it slightly, as though looking at it for the first time. He started to chuckle, though his face showed a combination of shock, confusion, and fear.
After a moment, she shook his arm again. He looked up at her, shaking his head. "I have no idea."
<--{12}-->
Bleah. I'd forgotten how spirit-crushingly exhausting boredom can be.
Mom's being passive agressive. Three months left.
This story is frickin' insane. No idea how much left.
Previous parts may be found here
Dawn loosened her grip slightly as Xander slowly stopped shaking. She couldn't believe it. That she would turn a corner in London and literally run into the man she and her friends had spent the last year searching for was beyond coincidence. Had she brought him here? Was she somehow able to channel the seemingly dormant key energy to breach the boundaries between hell and her own world? She had been hoping, certainly, that he would return, and soon, but she'd expected it to be when Willow had found a spell, when they could retrieve Xander and comfort him from the safe confines of the council, not find him here on the street. She leaned back slightly, studying him. She squeezed his arm, once, just to reassure herself that he was real.
He was. And he was looking back at her with an expression of absolute relief. She shuddered internally, imagining what he might have gone through. "You ready?"
Xander twitched slightly, his head moving in a minute nod. Before they could climb to their feet, however, he shot backwards out of her grasp, muttering to himself. Dawn jumped. "What--"
"How sweet."
Dawn spun. A grathnal demon in a long coat and wide-brimmed hat grinned at them. Xander pushed himself further away, seemingly about to bolt. Dawn caught what he was muttering now: a simple repetition of the word "no" at a rapid pace. Had the demon followed him?
"Is this another one, Harris?" The demon stepped closer. "Tell you what, I'll do her for free. Then we can talk about debts."
Xander snapped his head back to the demon, his lips curling in a feral snarl. Before Dawn could react, he was on his feet, pushing her none-too-gently out of the way, and attacking the demon.
Barehanded.
"Xander!" Dawn screamed.
"Run!" He screamed back, not even turning from the creature. She watched in frozen fascination for a moment as they fought.
Xander had never been a very skilled fighter. His method was geared more towards body blows and bar brawl moves than any distinct fighting style. What he lacked in skill he made up in enthusiasm. When he managed to defeat an enemy, it was usually due to sheer determination and a few underhanded tricks.
This was not the Xander she knew.
He was nowhere near a match for a slayer in strength or dexterity, but he moved with a wild agility that he'd never had before. Where once he might have tried to tackle the demon, here he ducked and wove like a boxer, swinging wide, uncontrolled limbs at it whenever there appeared to be an opening.
Grathnal demons had more tricks than just pointed teeth, though. Xander should have known that, he'd fought them before. As he moved, she caught glimpses of the scar he bore to prove it. The demon was toying with him for now, but at any moment it would bring that large, curving claw into play, and Xander would most likely die.
She shook her head sharply to clear it. She was not about to let that happen. The large dagger she carried had gone spinning out of her bag when she and Xander had collided and was probably permanently lost. She searched around her for some other weapon, then snatched up the long stick Xander had been swinging at her only a short while before. It wasn't perfect; grathnals, unlike vampires, had no particular aversion to wood, and even a heart blow wouldn't be enough to kill it. It would be enough to slow it down and let them get away.
She gripped the staff loosely, placing the forked end against her shoulder for added range and power. Neither combatant seemed to notice her, so she stepped back, circling around them, and took careful aim. Then, just as the grathnal's claw sliced through Xander's shoulder, she screamed and lunged.
The wood of the staff bowed slightly, but held as it slid through skin and muscle, straight through the creature's heart. The grathnal shook slightly, then collapsed, leaving Dawn struggling to pull the staff back out. Xander stared down at the demon for a long moment, his hand gripping his arm. She freed the weapon and stepped over the demon to his side.
"We've got to get going, Xan. It's not--"
A hissing noise drew her attention. The demon on the ground had begun to bubble, and slowly dissolved into a brownish-goo. Dawn stared.
She looked at the weapon in her hand, with the point on the one end and the sling on the other, then back at the goo, which was rapidly evaporating. She looked at the weapon. She recognized it, though she'd never seen one in "real life" before. Xander himself had loaned her the books, back before she even knew what a slayer was. She looked at Xander, then shook him to get his attention.
"Xander," she kept her voice low, so as not to startle him. She maintained eye contact, speaking slowly. "Where the hell did you get a magic hoopak?"
Xander stared at her for a long moment, then gently took the staff from her. He held it in his hands, turning it slightly, as though looking at it for the first time. He started to chuckle, though his face showed a combination of shock, confusion, and fear.
After a moment, she shook his arm again. He looked up at her, shaking his head. "I have no idea."
<--{12}-->
Bleah. I'd forgotten how spirit-crushingly exhausting boredom can be.