Title: The Surrogate 17/19
Author: Jacqui
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Buffy, Giles and all other assorted Buffy candies belong to Joss Whedon, WB and ME. Elizabeth, and everything from her world, belongs to me (the real me, not the 'grr aargh' ME).
Notes: Wow, some people are actually still reading this. Thanks for your feedback, guys.
Feedback: Give me a happy. wily_one24@yahoo.com.au
Elizabeth's skin itched, she could feel rivulets of sweat forming down her back and between her breasts, there was a slightly unpleasant metallic taste in her mouth and she didn't really care about any of it. Her brain was going around in circles, sluggishly berating her for letting herself get where she was.
The door opened and she didn't get up. She'd learned by now. Complete with bruises and various scrapes from the previous struggles, the most annoying mark on her body was the tiny pin prick where the needle had sunk in. It seemed to mock her with her own foolishness and carelessness. Elizabeth glared at Maggie Walsh, well aware of the uniformed soldiers behind her.
"I want my baby."
"I'm sure you do."
Walsh walked into the room with little ceremony, her voice was calm, but severe and emotionless. Her movements were well thought out, she was not entirely unaware of the damage a slayer could do to a person, even in the mere seconds it would take for the boys to enter. She placed a device on the table.
"No." Elizabeth's voice closed, she shook her head in denial.
"I believe you know what this is."
Staring at the odd looking funnel, attached to a container with tubes that resembled a macabre child's toy, Elizabeth felt just about drained. Suddenly, it all came rushing back to her with a ferocity that she hadn't experienced in months. All the guilt, the loneliness, the fear and terror. How silly she had been to think that a different world could change any of it.
"I won't." She whispered, not sounding as if she believed in her own words. "You can't make me."
"No, I truly can't, can I?" Walsh smiled. If she had meant it to be reassuring, it failed miserably, but Elizabeth was particularly sure it wasn't meant that way. "But that's the beauty of it, isn't it? You'll do it, whether you want to or not, because you understand the consequences."
Elizabeth watched her walk out of the room, the weight she'd been feeling growing until she could barely stand it any longer. How easy, she thought, how easy it would be to just give up, to let them all have their way. She could finally join her Rupert and her Willow, Joyce, Oz, all of them. The people she had known and loved, the people who shared her memory. Elizabeth closed her eyes and began to cry.
Behind her lids, fighting for space with the memory of dead people, were images of live ones. Xander and Cordy in her LA, Buffy and Giles, Willow and Tara, Xander and Anya, Joyce and, most of all, Chloe.
She curled up on the bed and sobbed, her soul reaching out, wishing she could contact Buffy once more, just once. To feel that connection, as comforting as anything she had ever felt before. Her mind repeated Buffy's name in a mantra of desperation.
Her eyes opened once more to focus on the breast pump lying on the table. The need grew stronger as she heard the faint sound of a baby's cry.
* * * *
Buffy turned to face Giles as the dark scenery flew by the car windows.
"Oh god, Giles, please hurry."
* * * *
Five people stood in the Giles' apartment, not knowing what to do. Xander, Anya, Joyce, Willow and Tara. There were only vague details to go on. Elizabeth's parting words, her plea for Buffy's help. It had just occurred to them that none of them actually knew where the Initiative was based or how to contact them. Helplessness rose in waves.
"Riley." Willow exclaimed to the group. "He'd know."
"Yeah, Will." Xander looked over. "He'd also be part of it, wouldn't he?"
"Oh, right."
Anya sank into the sofa, her knees melting out from underneath her. There was so much less stress as a demon, there really was. This, however, was not the time to voice that opinion. She looked up at Joyce and noted the pained expression on the woman's face. A worried tenseness that thinly shrouded aggression, the unspoken promise of pain to those that dared hurt her daughter.
How strange, she thought to herself, to have someone care like that for you all your life. There were still vague memories of human life, a thousand or so years ago, before she was made demon. She had had a family once, parents, unclear shapes and cloudy sounds, a color trying to enter her mind. Maybe she'd been loved by a mother, maybe she'd been held with care. Maybe.
She looked over at Xander and saw a similar expression on his face, fear, panic, threat. He cared, she knew, he'd be first in line to save her. He always made her feel wanted, loved, needed even. Anya reached out and traced a finger down the side of his arm, he looked down and gave her a sad smile. She loved him, she knew, so much it hurt.
"They're okay, Joyce."
Anya's voice floated heavily amid the silence that had settled amid the group. They all looked at her, a little startled, but Joyce's eyes crinkled in gratitude. Joyce sat down next to Anya and patted her shoulder.
"Yes, I know."
There was a knock at the door.
* * * *
He sat, alone, resigned. If he had had any sense, afraid, but he was well past any semblance of sanity. In his mind, he had been justified, but somehow the things in his head never quite translated well. He was mostly misunderstood. A few people understood him, though, and he'd almost ruined their lives. He had, honestly, wanted to do good. Well, after the mischief and mayhem anyway. He was, he had come to realize, a magnet for pain and misery. He was like a reverse Midas. Time had proven this theory correct. His own actions had proven this. There was nothing he could do, nothing, to redeem himself.
A tear slid down Ethan's cheek.
* * * *
"Bloody hell, is this really necessary?"
"Probably not." Xander gave a smug grin as he tightened the rope just a little bit too hard. "But it makes the rest of us feel a hell of a lot better."
"I have a message for the Slayer." Spike paused in his bravado to ponder this word, seeming for all the world to be entirely unbothered by the fact that he'd just been tied to a chair. "Slayers-es. The whole bloody Slayer tribe, however many there are now, and this is the way you treat me? Good show."
"Well, you see, we were considering making you a cheese platter and opening a 1956 vintage bottle of red… oh wait, no we weren't. Spike, do we look dumb to you?"
Spike raised an eyebrow and looked entirely too pleased with this question.
Until an arrow point entered his line of vision. It floated in the air in front of his face, slowly joined by the rest of the arrow, attached to a cross bow, held by Willow. She gave him an exasperated glare, that was belied by the edge of fear in her eyes, the tremble of her hand and the general scent of fear they were all giving off.
"We need help, Spike. We're weak and you know it. You have, more than once, tried to kill us all. If you're here to help, take the ropes and start talking."
Across the room, Tara shot her a secret look of pride, to which she blushed. The others looked rather impressed with her resolve, too. Good thing she'd been practicing her resolve face. She had come to the conclusion that it just hadn't been up to scratch.
"I always knew you were into the control thing, Red."
The crossbow only faltered for a moment.
"Hey!" Xander leaned forward and tapped his shoulder with a stake. "Don't think we won't use this."
"Ooh, I'm shakin' in my boots, really. I am."
There was a knock at the door.
* * * *
Maggie Walsh turned around, her face a mask of gentle concern.
"Yes, Riley, I understand you just want to see her, but they're resting right now."
Riley stood, his stance a mix of defiance and futility, as if he were undecided as to what actions he should take. His whole career in the Initiative had been geared around his trust of this woman, the total obedience to her orders, belief that she knew what she was doing. It was purely against his nature to question anything she said.
Yet, something just wasn't right about this whole operation. He had a bad feeling. If he wasn't so confused, he would have let a smile grace his lips for just a second as he remembered something Buffy had said one day. She would have called this a 'wiggins'. Definitely, that's what it felt like, a wiggins.
Professor Walsh was standing there, refusing to allow him to see Elizabeth and the baby. All he wanted was to make sure she was okay, to see if there was anything they needed. Her reluctance made Riley suspicious.
There was nothing, ultimately, he could do. Sighing, he turned around and walked away.
Maggie smiled to herself. It just wasn't in him to create an insubordination. She'd made damn sure of that. She punched her security code into the locked door, the little light turned green and she stepped through. A woman in her early twenties was seated near the crib and a soldier stood in the doorway. She smiled at both of them.
"It's just about time for this little one's bottle, isn't it?"
The tray was brought to her before she finished the sentence, a boy in soldier clothes appearing out of nowhere. She picked up the baby bottle and tested the warmth against the inside of her wrist, despite knowing that they would have heated the bottle to precise temperature, not a degree over or below. She just liked doing it.
Looking over the walls of the crib, Maggie let her eyes wander over the sleeping Chloe. The child's breaths came too fast, still erratic from the cries that shaken the tiny form for several hours. She was a stubborn one, this child. So small.
Not very heavy, though, and completely compact in Maggie's arms. Almost as if she were made to fit there. The tiny eyes flickered open and the face scrunched up, indignant at the wakening. Chloe let out a little mewl of protest. It made Maggie laugh softly.
"Sorry, but you're going to have to learn to follow a schedule."
She sat down in one of the comfy chairs and nestled Chloe into the crook of her arm. The child struggled with the teat momentarily, before discovering the familiar and comforting taste of her mother's milk.
Maggie dismissed the nurse and the soldier, content to coo to the child alone.
* * * *
"So, what? You just let them take her?" Cordelia gaped with outrage. "And you all had lobotomies when?"
"Cordy." Angel's voice was low, holding a gentle warning.
"It's not like we knew!" Xander's face was red. "We thought they were trying to help!"
"Of course! 'Cause the first thing we learnt at Graduation was to trust the government!"
"I… I don't believe this is getting us anywhere." Was Wesley's contribution. He was rewarded with twin glares from Cordy and Xander.
"He's right." Joyce walked over to them. "Right now I don't care how this happened, I just want Elizabeth and Chloe back here. Have you gotten hold of Buffy or Giles yet?"
Tara sighed from her position at the desk, phone book open and pen in her hand. She shook her head. They'd been trying to contact the newlyweds for over an hour. The phone at the cabin rang out, again and again.
"Why won't they answer the phone?"
The minute Joyce asked that question, she turned bright red.
She was saved by any further Honeymoon related comment by a knock at the door.
"Dammit." Willow's eyes flew to the offending door. "Somebody just lock that thing!"
* * * *
Doctor Engelman stood in front of a printer as he watched it spit the printed page out. The figures would have looked like a jumble to most people, but he was not most people. An eagerness gave his movements a jumpy edge, his eyes flicked too swiftly from the jars and test tubes sitting on the bench to the read out nearly complete. The very second the printer stopped whirring, he snatched the paper like a greedy child.
His eyes widened slowly as he read.
* * * *
"I… I think there's something…" Riley paused to watch Willow click several locks shut with a vengeance. "um… suspicious going on."
"He's a bloody genius. Quick, someone give the nancy boy a prize."
Riley's eyebrows furrowed together as he studied the man tied to a chair. He tried to ignore the metallic sound of locks clicking behind him. There was something entirely too familiar about that man. The blonde hair, the English accent, he nearly choked when it hit him. Hostile 17.
"Hey! You're…"
"Riley?" Tara interrupted. "What do you know?"
He blinked. For the whole time he'd known Tara he hadn't seen her take any initiative in any social situation, despite the obvious intelligence in her work. As he watched her, for a second, he noticed the red stain in her cheeks and the awkward sway of her shoulders. No, she was covering and he had a pretty good idea who for. Now was not the time, though, he could sense the urgency in the room.
"Maggie Walsh took control of Elizabeth and the baby as soon as we got there, I haven't seen them since, she won't let me see them, but I do know they're being held at the Initiative."
"So it's true?" Xander eyed Riley suspiciously, he wasn't up to trusting the man yet. "They really are in trouble."
"She wouldn't…" Riley stopped and chose his words more carefully. "I don't think Professor Walsh would hurt them. She said she was protecting them. You saw, there were a growing number of underworld forces attacking the child."
"Yeah." Spike piped up again, despite a glare from Angel. "And you protected them real well against those, didn't you? Settin' the demons free afterwards and paying them for their troubles. Real nice set up."
"What?" Riley blinked.
"Didn't know about that, did you?" Xander puffed up the slightest little bit, ignoring the fact he hadn't known just minutes before. "Seems like your boss lady has been playing you like she played us. Hiring demons to be 'caught' in front of us, by you guys, then setting them free."
"This is all very well." Joyce stood up from the sofa, her eyes rimmed with red. "But it's not getting us anywhere. We have to do something and we have to do it now."
Anya looked at the crowd of people in the apartment, the resentments bristling beneath the surface. She saw the looks that Angel and Spike kept throwing at each other, the glares that Cordelia and Xander kept exchanging, the suspicion that Riley exuded and one thing became abundantly clear.
"We need Buffy."
The locks on the door began to rattle.
* * * *
Suzanne didn't always like her job, but that was rarely an issue anyway. She couldn't think of the last time these people had actually asked her how she felt. She wasn't sure if feelings were allowed in this structure of cold steel and inhumanity. How anyone could last a day in this place without leaving their human emotions at the door, she didn't know.
She looked at the folder in front of her, blue, red and green pen marks scratching the page at crazed angles, the computer screens that alternatively showed her a pulsating mass that throbbed harshly and a dull rippling mass. Just watching it made her want to vomit.
An impatient cough made her look to the left, she saw Dr. Engelman and gave a little nod of acknowledgement, an unspoken sign that things were going well, that she was doing all that he had asked for.
"This is very interesting." She made her statements with a vague gesture to the screen in front of her, ignoring the glass window that dominated the wall. "I'm not sure what it means, but… it is interesting."
"Does this help?"
He gave her the printed read out and her eyes scanned the figures before flicking between the screens and her folder, checking the figures. A surge of excitement ran through her, the promise of discovery, before the reality of what she had been doing overcame her again.
"It makes sense. It certainly does explain things."
"Could it be replicated, do you think?"
Fear. The very possibility made her blood run cold.
"I'll have to look into it further, but…"
"Do whatever you have to do, but prepare a report for the chiefs by morning."
As he left the lab, Suzanne lifted her gaze to the window. Through it, she could see the form of Elizabeth, strapped to a table, her head covered in a maze of wires. There was little resistance there. In a separate room, also visible, she could see the struggling form of the baby, screaming at the figures that surrounded it.
As she watched a figure in a lab coat apply another electric current, the monitor in front of her showed Chloe's brain waves escalate in certain telling areas. She closed her eyes, glad that the glass was sound proof. An infant will cry without tears for the first few weeks of its life, but the screams are real.
When she opened them again, she saw that Elizabeth had turned her head and was staring straight at her, lifeless eyes that still managed to accuse. Her brain waves didn't react and she didn't even blink when the current was applied to her.
* * * *
"GEAUGHHHH!"
Buffy recovered with as much dignity as she could, which was minimal considering she had just lost control of her motor functions and had done what looked suspiciously like a crazed chicken dance across the floor. It might have been funny had she not looked at Giles with tears in her eyes.
"Oh god, I don't know what they're doing to her, but we have to stop it now."
"I thought the link was broken?" Xander asked confused, the thought of whatever could be happening making him shut down his train of thought.
"It is, uh, I mean, it was, I…" Buffy paused, "It's not active all the time, but if we concentrate enough, or during moments of real stress, I guess."
She seemed lost, distracted, had seemed that way since she had walked through the door. It was as if she was hearing a tune inside her head, but couldn't quite identify it. And then the shocks had started. Before that, Buffy had felt a distinct thread of despair, a guilt so sharp and accurate that it was incapacitating. She walked into the apartment like a zombie, half awake, not appearing to notice or care that everyone seemed to be crowded into the place.
Buffy bent her head and allowed herself to be soothed by Joyce, feeling the slender fingers close on the back of her neck and sweep through her hair, a mother's preening. Her brain washed with cloudy memories, blurs of color from her childhood. Her small body, shaking with tears, fitting into the warm concave made by her mother's lap, her mother's arms enveloping her. Buffy couldn't remember the details of the scene, why she had been crying, what she had been wearing, but she could recall with total accuracy the warmth, the musky smell of her neck, the soft mumblings.
The feeling of letting go and having someone else soothe away the pain.
Buffy looked at Giles.
"Can you make the plan?" He nodded at her. "I have to… be by myself."
They watched her walk up the stairs.
* * * *
Elizabeth looked at the gray walls, she looked at the floor. On the table lay a tray with bland breakfast food on it. Toast, juice, cereal. It must be morning. She could not remember them taking away the tray that had held her dinner, but they must have. Someone must have come in and cleaned away the congealed food she hadn't touched, someone must have come in to take away the hated containers.
Someone had come in and cleaned the dried tears from her face.
She curled into a little ball and let herself fall sideways onto the bed, her face hitting the pillow limply. In her head she saw invisible bricks being paved tightly into a wall. The higher the wall got, the easier she began to breathe, the heavier her eyelids became.
The less she needed to cry.
* * * *
"You do it."
"I'm not doing it. Why doesn't he do it?"
"Wish I could help, but I'm tied to a chair. So sorry."
"I'll do it." Giles, who had been quiet for the last ten minutes, finally looked up, his voice so soft it might not have been heard. He shrugged, resigned. "Somebody has to, after all…"
Nobody disagreed with him and certainly no one envied him the inevitable task.
They had argued and debated and had even come close to fighting about the rescue plan. Finally they had come up with something that they all agreed might work, it was simple, but effective. There was one hitch that they all kept coming to, however, and it did not make their job easier.
* * * *
He knocked on the door, each thud sounding impossibly loud. The fist that hit the wooden door shook slightly and he wished he just turn around, he didn't want to do this. Every cell inside him screamed in protest.
"Buffy?"
She called a vague answer that welcomed him inside. When he opened the door she was lying on the bed, curled on her side, her arms crossed over her stomach. She turned to face him, her eyes red.
"I feel as if they're already gone."
"They're not gone, Buffy."
She looked him in the eye and it was almost painful.
"But they will be, won't they? They're not going to stay here forever."
"There's no reason, I mean, if we work something…"
He didn't finish his sentence. He already knew how futile it was, how empty his words.
"It's killing her here, Giles, don't you see? It's slowly driving her crazy."
There was nothing he could say to that. What was he supposed to say? He couldn't exactly deny it, he didn't want to agree with it, but Buffy was right. It wasn't something he had specifically seen, but something he had felt. Elizabeth and Chloe's time in this world was limited. He knew it.
"What did you decide? It must be bad if they sent you."
She tried to lighten the mood, but it didn't come out that way, it was almost a desperate plea. The way he hesitated and closed his eyes, bracing himself before speaking, Buffy could tell it wasn't going to be good.
"We're going to incapacitate the Initiative, break in and take Elizabeth and Chloe by force." He could see her about to interrupt and continued, not meeting her gaze. "Angel, Riley, Spike, Xander, Wesley and myself will be the main fighting team, you and Anya will be there to find Elizabeth and Chloe and get them out."
He sighed, not wanting to see her large eyes watching him with a growing suspicion.
"Willow, Tara, Cordelia and Joyce are going to stay on the perimeter, helping cast the spell that, hopefully, will incapacitate enough of the Initiative to let us do what we need to do."
She frowned at him.
"They're going to help who cast the spell?"
He should have known, not a lot escaped her.
"That's what I'm here to ask you. It's entirely your decision, of course, but there really is only one person capable enough to use the…"
Her stomach clenched and she could actually feel all the blood draining out of her, pulling from the inside, clenching painfully. Her fingers closed into fists.
"No."
"Buffy, don't be hasty..."
"You are not seriously asking me this!"
"You think I want to do this? You think this is easy for me?"
She didn't need to look at him as he sat next to her to sense the tension that bubbled under his skin, to hear the venom in his words and the way he, both of them really, avoided saying the name. The situation made her ill.
"No, Giles, I don't think it's easy, but there has to be another way!"
He lifted his hand and traced a line down the side of her face, Buffy closed her eyes and tried not to shiver under his touch. How could he consider this? How could he ask her to consider this?
"If there is, I'd really like to…"
"You! Or Willow!"
"I may have been powerful in my youth, Buffy, and I may be able to cast a simple spell or two now, but I am nowhere near capable enough to do anything of this magnitude anymore and neither is Willow. Even if I thought we could, there's just no time to do the research, we need someone who knows."
Buffy felt like crumpling.
"From what Riley and Spike have said the Initiative is bigger than anything we've faced before. This is the government and you can't even imagine the scope of the military presence, or the multitude of demons encased there. We just don't have the time."
Buffy stood and walked over to the wardrobe. The door opened slowly and she pushed several hangers aside before she let her eyes linger over the cloth. She had not really understood the need to keep it. The memory of the dress riding her hips and swinging around her ankles as she and Giles danced was contrasted sharply and irreversibly with the white hot pain and flood of red that formed her memory of Chloe's birth.
"Last night, when I woke you up, it was because I'd felt her, Elizabeth, I mean. She was calling to me and she was so upset."
Buffy picked up the sleeve, savoring the satin feel between her fingers and feeling the weight, breathing in deeply as the sudden scent of the perfume she'd word that day washed over her.
"Just before, with the shocks, that… that was more like before, when I felt everything she couldn't. It was like… she isn't there anymore. You're right. We don't have much time."
She turned and met his gaze.
"Call him."
* * * *
Colonel McNamara preened himself importantly, having been assured by Engelman that all of their futures were certain, that promotion and adulation were only moments away. He could barely remember seeing so many of his superiors seated at the one table before. He tried not to look nervously at the only two empty seats in the room.
Walsh, he was sure, would be brooding over the brat child and Engelman, well, he had no idea where Engelman was, but it probably had something to do test tubes and bodily fluids, not necessarily human bodily fluids either. The thought made him shiver, give him guns and camo any day.
"Colonel?" The authoritative voice startled him out of his nervous reverie. "I assume you're ready to present this finding of yours?"
"Of course, Sir." He had to physically prevent himself from turning around at the sound of a door opening behind him and footsteps rushing to the table and settled for glaring at the two figures when they sat next to him. "Whenever it pleases you."
"Then let's proceed."
Dr. Engelman stood up, shuffling the folders he had bought with him.
"You have to understand, this data is extremely raw and unpolished, we just isolated it last night and haven't had time to properly…"
"We're very busy people, you understand."
"Of course, of course, well, just by observing the Slayer and her child for a few hours we've been able to isolate what we suspect is the main source of her strength and ability to heal at an accelerated rate."
Several backs in the room straightened and eyes began to shine.
"You believe this state can be duplicated in other human beings?"
"Well, heh." Engelman gulped nervously. "In strictly controlled circumstances, of course, there are many contraindications. It's a rather delicate structure…"
"Dr. Engelman." Walsh drew her mouth into a tense, taut line. "Just explain, please."
"Well, see, this state is only possible in females, because, well, statistically the female brain is smaller than the male brain." His mouth was dry and he could feel sweat pooling at the small of his back. He noticed a ferocious gleam in Maggie Walsh's eyes and quickly stumbled over his next words. "I mean, women use a comparatively larger percentage of their brains… Anyway, this is crucial to the expansion of the brain matter."
He pulled the CAT scan results out of his folder and handed them around.
"You can see, this is the brain of an average person, the red areas indicate activity. And this one, here, is the Slayer under duress. As you can see, the frontal lobe, parietal lobe, basal ganglia, thalamus and hypothalamus are some of the structures that have expanded beyond the normal range."
Colonel McNamara blinked.
"I mean, these areas represent the primary motor, pre-motor and somatosensory association areas of the brain. Theta waves are going crazy in those areas. Her whole autonomic nervous system is in hyperactivity."
Maggie Walsh blinked.
"You've all heard of the fight or flight instinct, right? The body's natural response mechanism that takes over in times of danger? There's countless urban legends and myths about mothers who have lifted cars and trucks off the ground to free trapped children, or men bending steel, etcetera, etcetera. Well, it's possible that these legends are based in some reality."
He could see the intense interest in the room, could almost taste the admiration and respect for his work that he'd always wanted. Engelman tried to forget the haunted look on the Slayer's face.
"Basically, when the Slayer is faced with a situation in which she needs to fight, her whole body goes into hyperaction, speeding everything up, all the systems, hormones, enzymes, heart rate, everything. The rest of her body works in conjunction to compensate for the irregularity Although it may be possible to duplicate the enlargement of the correct brain areas, there's no way as yet to correct the anomalies that this would create."
"So you're saying…"
"In a normal person, such increased brain activity would cause a surge in hormones, heart rate and metabolism that the body would not be able to cope. Essentially, it would kill the person, I mean, if the heart attack alone didn't kill them, the stroke would, or the resulting toxicity."
"And this information helps us how?"
"Because Slayers are called only when previous slayers die, these systems are not actually activated until some time in adolescence. It's possible that there are several candidates walking around with the specific DNA structures to handle this kind of sustained hyperactivity. If we can find a way to isolate these people, then activating them, so to speak, should be a relatively smooth process."
"How long will it take you to collect the appropriate data?"
Colonel McNamara stood up, effectively cutting Dr. Engelman off.
"Well, we have one possibility already…"
"The child?"
Maggie Walsh's head snapped around and she needed only seconds to read into McNamara's plan. She could feel his foot underneath the table, cruelly pressing down on hers, warning her not to cause a scene.
"It's not a positive match for such a radical procedure, as yet, but we hope that sharing the DNA with a Slayer mother and the youth of the infant may be in our favor."
"That's ridiculous!" Engelman's face was red, outraged at being upstaged. "Her tests have come back normal! The risk of permanent brain damage alone, let alone systemic failures and visceral damage, is staggering. And that's only if you don't kill her!"
The voice from the other end of the table was firm.
"Let the experiments begin today."
* * * *
There was something almost pathetic and sad about the fact that he had not changed location since Angel had left his broken and badly beaten body in a dingy hotel room outside of town. Angel might have found a vague notion of spiteful glee in the fact, if it weren't for the fact that his whole body itched with the urge to cause the man more damage. He could barely believe that he had left the man alive. It had taken all his control to stop himself.
A small whimper made his ears prick up.
"I didn't go back." Ethan scrambled backwards until his back hit the wall, the shirt he was wearing falling open to reveal the bandages across his cheat. His face was still distorted, somehow, though the bruising had healed. A row of stitches ran down from his hairline past his left eye. He limped and his voice trembled. "I swear it. I haven't seen them…"
"Relax." Angel paused, trying not to see Buffy lying weak in the hospital bed, trying to ignore the slightly medicinal scent of painkillers and antiseptic. "If I thought you'd come anywhere near any of them, you'd already be dead."
He looked Ethan in the eye and Ethan did not doubt the words.
"The Initiative, a top secret government arm, have Elizabeth and Chloe. I'm not asking you, I'm telling you that you're going to help. Buffy doesn't want you there, I don't want you. Nobody wants you. Do you understand that?"
Ethan nodded once.
* * * *
The door opened behind her and she heard footsteps enter the room. Elizabeth didn't react, she kept staring at the wall, her chest rumbled with her breath, almost as if her body wanted to cry when she wouldn't.
"You didn't eat."
Elizabeth didn't recognize the voice, it was male.
"You have to at least drink something." When she didn't respond, the voice sighed. "They're going to continue this if you don't do something. They'll force an IV into your veins and they'll keep you here until they're satisfied with their tests."
She curled up into a little ball and listened to the footsteps leave the room.
* * * *
It hurt sometimes to walk, but not as much as it had at first. He shuffled the small bottle of pain killers out of his pocket, wishing that his hands didn't shake so much that the lid rattled as he took it off. The hand came out of nowhere and slapped the bottle out of his grasp.
Ethan watched the plastic strike the ground, bouncing as it spewed several little white pills across the cement. He almost whimpered. He briefly considered chasing one as it bounced down the stairs. The blood was pounding in his head and his throat closed tightly.
"Not until after the spell." Angel spoke coldly. "Don't tell me you're not already fried with those things and a few bottles of cheap scotch."
They got to the door.
"I don't…" Ethan took a step back. "I can't face them, not after…"
Angel grabbed his shoulder, opening the door with his other hand, and shoved him unceremoniously into the apartment. It was only a small amount of satisfaction that accompanied watching the man trip over his own feet.
When he looked up, Ethan saw a crowd of people watching him. He shriveled under their eyes. None of them offered to help him to his feet and he didn't expect them to. On the table he saw plans that he assumed were for the military base they were about to attack.
Crowded around the table were two men he hadn't seen before, one dressed in military clothes and the other he assumed to be none other than a watcher, Xander, Willow and Ripper. He didn't look Ripper in the eyes, he didn't need to, he could feel the heated tension, could almost see the tremor in the man's wrist.
He watched Ripper walk quickly away, moving as far back into the apartment as he could, distancing himself. A flash of blonde hair told Ethan that Ripper wasn't alone hiding in the crowd that shifted almost unconsciously to block them from him. He wanted to apologize, again and again, but didn't think he could actively talk to them.
Hostility came off the crowd in waves.
Angel pushed him to the table. He stayed silent as Willow coldly passed him to stand with another woman he had never seen before. Xander opened his mouth to say something, but closed it, also choosing to walk away.
He was left with the soldier, the watcher and Angel. It occurred to him suddenly that the level of hostility aimed at him did not lessen in proportion to the people.
"What… what do I need to do?"
Angel and the watcher walked away.
* * * *
Professor Walsh walked into the laboratory. It was cold and she felt a flash of anger at the thought of Chloe being in this room. Colonel McNamara looked up from his notes and nodded to her in acknowledgement.
"How is she?"
Dr. Engelman glanced over, he didn't nod or speak, but his eyes told Walsh all she needed to know.
"I want this stopped, now."
Colonel McNamara bristled.
"This isn't up to you, Professor."
She ignored him and walked over to the operating table. Chloe lay on a thick towel, her arms and legs were strapped down, wires connected to every conceivable surface of her skull. Her skin was pink, her breath came in ragged gasps, hiccups blocked her air passages regularly.
Walsh spun around.
"What kind of monster are you? How can you do this to an infant?"
McNamara looked at her coldly.
"You started this, Professor, or don't you remember?"
No. Maggie Walsh blocked her mind to such a possibility. She hadn't done this, this wasn't what she wanted. She had suggested observing a slayer's child to see if it possessed the same powers, she had never conceived of this cruelty.
"You are not God." She almost spat when she talked. "And I will not let you do this."
She didn't take her eyes of the Colonel, but she felt Dr. Engelman step forward, inching closer to her. The thought struck her that he was going to advance upon her, but she ignored it. She knew where he stood.
All her adult life she had been working for the Initiative, she had had such grand plans, such noble plans. She was going to help change the world. She was going to have power and respect. What had that boiled down to?
Her eyes roamed the edges of the room, counting the armed soldiers that watched her every move. She didn't even have a sharp set of keys, let alone a weapon. Not to mention the countless guarded perimeters that stood between her and the outside. There was only one thing to do.
Her hand wavered over the baby's head.
"She feels hot."
Colonel McNamara wasn't impressed.
"Seriously." Walsh gestured for Dr. Engelman. "Doesn't she feel feverish to you?"
"Yes!" He was almost too eager in his response, catching on quickly. "Absolutely."
"I know what you're doing. There's nothing wrong with that child." McNamara glared at the two of them. "Don't think you can turn all hero now. This has been approved."
"You can't perform these experiments on an ill child, even a mild infection would skew the results." Dr. Engelman tried not to gloat. "We'll have to do tests to be sure, it could take hours."
He was defeated, he knew it, they all knew it. He was also incredibly angry, they knew that too. There would be consequences, but for the time being, Walsh flung herself at the straps holding Chloe down.
She gathered up the child, holding her tightly to her shoulder. The second Chloe felt herself free, she began to scream. Loudly. Walsh pushed her way through out of the room, cooing to the baby. She could feel Engelman behind her.
How strange, to suddenly find herself going against the grain of everything she'd worked for, risking more than she even cared to think about right now, all for the sake of something so small. Something she hadn't even cared about until she'd held it in her hands.
* * * *
"I think that's it." Willow shook the bag under Tara's nose. "That's everything on his list."
Tara blinked, suddenly coming out of her trance. She'd been staring at the front window of the magic shop. They'd come to get the last few ingredients that Ethan had needed. Both of them had jumped at the errand, eager to leave the apartment and the heavy atmosphere within.
"Look." Tara gestured to the sign. "They're selling this place."
"Huh." Willow's eyes glittered, just a little. "We should tell Giles."
* * * *
"I've got it." Joyce gritted between her teeth. Her hooded eyes glared at Ethan from the sofa as Cordelia and Buffy say near her. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."
"None of us like it, Mom, but it's necessary."
Buffy could taste the bile in her throat. She was putting on a braver face than she cared to admit. Her insides were like shattered glass, slashing her, destroying her with the urge to exact revenge. There were bigger issues to worry about, she kept telling herself this. Kept repeating it in her mind until she was ready to vomit.
"It's just…" Joyce gave a flustered wave toward the room. "It's all so overwhelming. How many times have you put together an assembly such as this?"
Buffy thought for a moment.
"There was graduation…"
Cordy piped up.
"And then there was that Blue guy you blew up with a rocket launcher."
"Oh yeah."
Xander leaned over the sofa.
"Don't forget Acathla."
Joyce shook her head. Anya turned around and placed a hand on Xander's back.
"And there was that time when the Master built that human conveyor belt in the factory and you were all vampires…" Anya trailed off when she saw everyone frowning at her. The whole room had gone quiet. She gave a fake grin. "Oh wait. Heh. Never mind."
The door to the apartment opened and Willow and Tara entered. Anya's comment forgotten, everyone was hushed now. Buffy looked over to Giles and found that he was already watching her. A buzzing nervousness that was growing within her eased just a little when their eyes met.
Everything else was ready. This marked the official start to the plan.
* * * *
Maggie rocked the chair back and forth, her breath a soft, slow hum as she cradled Chloe in her arms. The child was calmer now, more relaxed, having finally been settled. Maggie looked up to see Dr. Engleman watching them.
"How are we going to get her out of here?"
Engelman thought for a moment.
"If it was just her, it might not be too hard, but I can't think of any way to get both her and Elizabeth out of the compound."
Walsh frowned.
"Elizabeth? Who said anything about Elizabeth?"
Engelman's mouth slackened for a moment.
"You can't be serious?"
Maggie looked down at Chloe, she lifted a tiny little hand in her own and watched with satisfaction as the miniscule fingers wrapped around her own. Her heart swelled at the creases in the knuckles. They were so perfect. Her voice was still soft, but eerily firm.
"I'm deadly serious, Engelman, try and stop me and you'll find out just how much."
She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on the baby's downy head.
* * * *
The elevator sped downwards. He leaned forward.
"Agent Riley Finn."
A computerized voice answered him.
"Vocal Code Accepted."
Good thing it didn't need fingerprints, he thought to himself as he wiped his sweaty hands on his pants before gripping his gun.
* * * *
The doors had been forced open and Angel was beginning to strain under the pressure of keeping them open. He watched in silence as the group made their way down the elevator shaft in single file, grouping on the top of the elevator.
"I don't know why I'm doin' this, you had me tied to a chair."
He glared at Spike.
"Don't make me hurt you. Get down there."
"I can't even hit people." It was almost a whine.
"Yeah, but you can distract them. And there might be a demon for you."
* * * *
"Finn."
Riley nodded and looked straight ahead.
"Sir."
"Is anything wrong, Agent?" The officer looked at Riley carefully.
"No, Sir."
"Then would you like to step out of the elevator and let the door close?"
He swallowed and kept looking straight ahead.
"No, Sir."
* * * *
Ethan looked at his watch, then at the others.
"It's time."
Willow clicked the keys on her laptop, hacking into the Initiative system.
* * * *
"Agent. I order you to step outside of the elevator immediately."
"With all due respect, Sir, no."
A crowd had gathered and Riley prayed that he wouldn't have to hold up this charade for too much longer. A crack sounded behind him and he felt the rush of cool air as the overhead trapdoor was released and people began to drop into the car. He breathed a sigh of relief.
Then lifted his gun and found himself at a stalemate with five officers pointing a gun at him. He held their eyes as he bent one knee and knelt on the ground. Over his shoulder he felt Giles and Wesley point their guns at the officers and felt that little bit better.
To the side of them, Spike and Angel stood behind the wall of the elevator, hidden from view. Xander stood between them, his gun cocked and ready to take any slack if the others faltered. Buffy and Anya stood to the back, Buffy already reaching out and trying to locate Elizabeth.
"Agent Finn, what the hell is going on?"
* * * *
Dr. Engelman walked into the room, never taking his eyes of the woman curled up on the bed. She didn't move, not when he had first entered, not when he stepped closer to the bed. She was curled up, facing the wall, her whole body shivering violently.
"Please Elizabeth." He felt almost desperate. "You still haven't eaten anything."
He sat on the bed and reached out, placing his hand on her upper arm. He almost recoiled at the heat that radiated from her.
"Listen to me, we don't have much time. They're going to do horrible things to your baby and you need to help me stop them."
She rolled her head towards him, her eyes glassy and unfocused.
"She's still alive? Chloe's alive?"
"Yes!" She didn't pull back when he bought her arm up. "This is a mixture of stimulants, vitamins and proteins. You need to be stronger if you're going to save her."
The needle slid underneath her skin and her eyes began to constrict as he detailed his plan.
* * * *
A flash of blue startled the growing array of armed soldiers and officers, but those in the elevator were expecting it, a surge of adrenaline hit them at once. This was it, now or never. Riley shouted before anyone had a chance to recover.
"Now!"
Xander, Giles and Wesley ran forward, disabling the officers that stood in their immediate way. Spike and Angel sprang forward and attacked those that had hidden to the side and planned to ambush them as they left.
That left Riley and Anya to cover Buffy as she quickly surveyed the scene in front of her. She chose not to see a young man, well built and in his early twenties, strike a well aimed blow to Giles' torso. She chose not to see him double over.
She chose to run down the corridor to the left, feeling Xander and Anya running next to her, only vaguely hearing the discharge of a gun or a shouted warning. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she heard a scream that sounded vaguely familiar.
"Where are we going, Buffy?"
"She's close, Riley, I can feel it." A ripple ran through her and she swung her head around to face a door. "There. That one."
As Riley ran to the door, his ID card already half way down the scanner before he was fully standing in front of it, two soldiers blocked off the entry to the corridor they were in. He looked at them, frantically, trying to gauge how long it would take him to grab the gun in his holster.
A hand pushed him down and he felt his knees buckle, but before could cry out he saw and felt the barrel of the gun come over his shoulder. Anya pulled the trigger four times in quick succession and the uniformed figures disappeared from view.
They ran into the room, slamming the door shut behind them.
"Buffy? Thank god!"
They swiveled to face Elizabeth. Buffy would have spoken many words of relief, then, but the other woman already knew, instead she focused on the next important thing, tossing a spare gun from her jacket to the trembling figure.
"Chloe? Where is she?"
"He said Professor Walsh… we have to hurry."
"Yeah, slight problem there."
* * * *
"Wesley's down!" Willow looked up from the screen of her lap top, her eyes immediately went to the stricken form of Cordelia. "Not out, just down."
They all crowded in front of the screen, watching the hacks into the Initiative's security system.
* * * *
"On the count of three. Two." Riley pressed his back to the wall next to the door, he was feeling better about waging a war with these people next to him. Anya, at least, certainly knew how to handle a gun and he'd already seen Buffy in a fight. "One. Now!"
They filed into the corridor, Riley knocking one man down with the butt of his gun. He noticed Buffy swoop down and take the man's weapon as they rushed forward. Nice. As they reached the main foyer he saw that the rest of the group had formed a circle around a wounded Wesley, competently holding their own.
The road to Maggie Walsh's office was relatively free and he thanked heavens that Ethan's spell was holding up. If any of the demons had gotten free there would be more chaos and destruction that they could possibly handle. Luckily, all the cages had been sealed as well as all the main security channels. They only had to deal with whoever had been in the main foyer.
With any luck, they would hold until he could get this group to safety.
* * * *
She could hear the alarms, a barrage of frantic voices and gunfire. If she listened harder, she was sure she'd be able to hear the howling of the demons in their cages. They could always smell the fear. Maggie Walsh took one last look at the paperwork in her hand. A quick glance to reassure herself they were there, a useless gesture as she'd already checked them a thousand times over.
The fake birth certificate, the adoption papers, even a pediatrician's recommendation and history file, they slipped into her bag next to her own passport and official documents, bank accounts hidden for so long from the government. Her new identity. Where she was going, they wouldn't even think to ask questions. A quick thrill passed through her, free of the Initiative, free of the moral ambiguities that made up her daily life.
She picked the child up, tenderly, taking care not to wake her. Maggie smiled as the baby nestled into her shoulder as if she were made to fit there. Shuffling the bag onto her other shoulder, Maggie walked to the door, knowing that with the chaos happening out there, barely anyone would register her leaving.
"I'll get you out of here." She cooed to the sleeping child. "Don't you worry. We'll be fine."
The corridor was nearly dark, lit only by emergency lights. It fazed her only for a moment as she hurried to the next set of doors. Behind her, she could hear the sound of people trying to break through a barrier. It sounded close.
Her future lay beyond this last door. Her freedom. With Chloe. She wondered how many people actually knew of the secret passageway hidden in the back rooms. Not many, she was willing to wager. There was nobody back here, they were all trying to get to the main foyer, to the main battle.
Her ID card slid down the scanner smoothly, but the light did not click from red to green. There was no cheery click that sounded the opening of the door. She swiped her card again, cursing under her breath.
"Having trouble?"
Maggie spun around, her arm shielding Chloe as she did so, and came face to face with Colonel McNamara. He stood watching her, an amused look upon his face. He didn't seem at all surprised that the door wouldn't open. She felt Chloe stir in her arms.
"I… I can't open the door."
He smiled.
"No. The insurrectionists have locked us all in. There's no way out."
"The insurrectionists?"
"Yes, led by your wonder boy Riley Finn, of all people. I believe they've come to rescue the very cargo you're trying to escape with."
"Escape? I'm not trying to…" She gave up all pretense. "Look, you know and I know they're going to kill this kid. She has no hope here. This place has got their research, they've got the slayer, they don't need the baby."
"I can't let you leave with her."
Maggie's eyes widened as he began to advance.
* * * *
Wesley watched the blood as it oozed out between his hands. He could barely feel the pain anymore. The knife stuck out of his abdomen on the right side. He desperately tried to remember if this was the liver or the spleen. It was probably the liver, he tried to get his mind to think, something so basic he should remember. This was something they'd covered in basic anatomy.
The sound of voices barely broke into his conscious thought. He knew that they were fighting around him, he knew that they were winning. The amount of soldiers attacking them had lessened. Funny, he thought, it wasn't even a year ago when he had been lying on a stretcher whining about the pain. And he hadn't even been half as injured as he was now.
A bubble of blood came out of his nose.
He wiped it messily with his left hand and smeared the blood over his cheek. His eyes suddenly focused on two figures breaking away from their group and he tried to figure out where Angel and Giles were going.
* * * *
Riley swore as the room they entered proved to be empty. He had no idea where else Walsh could be. He turned to survey the group. Anya was watching the door they had just come through, her eyes shining and her cheeks flushed. He wasn't sure about Elizabeth, something was off kilter, as if it took her a moment too long to register anything, she seemed dragged along by the group. It was Buffy that worried him, she leaned against a table, her hand clutching at her stomach, her breaths were shallow.
All of a sudden, Buffy and Elizabeth cocked their heads at the same time. A sharpness made Buffy stand up, her pain forgotten.
"There." She stormed past him, striding to the back of the room, to the bookshelf he had looked at every day for years. "Can't you hear it? Chloe's crying."
She tore at the books, throwing them aside in desperation. He didn't know what to do. As far as he knew there was nothing behind the bookshelf, but he had seen enough in the past hour alone to trust these women and their instincts. Elizabeth and Anya went to Buffy's aid, dragging the shelf away from the wall.
As they looked to the back of the room, Riley was the only one to hear the door open. He spun, gun ready to fire. It took him a second to register the person standing there.
"Mr. Giles!"
* * * *
"Don't move."
Colonel McNamara stopped in his tracks. He turned slowly and glared at the owner of the voice. Dr. Engelman stood at the end of the corridor with a gun in his hand, he had it pointed squarely at the Colonel.
"What do you think you're doing, Dr?"
Engelman held up the manila folder with his free hand, he tried not to here the cries from the baby.
"You want these? They're the only copies, I've made sure of that. You want them, you step away from Professor Walsh and the baby right now."
"You're out of your depth, Dr."
McNamara held up his hands in supplication, his face an exaggerated mask of concern. He stepped towards Engelman, away from Walsh and the baby. The child cried behind him and he could hear Maggie's frantic whispers to quiet the thing.
"Thank god, Engelman." Maggie almost smiled. "I thought you'd bailed on me."
He kept the gun aimed at McNamara, but Engelman shifted his glare onto Walsh.
"You think I'm here to help you? This child doesn't belong to you, so put it down and walk to me or you're next."
"Next? I…" She paused, confused. Her eyes flicking between McNamara and Engelman. Her grip unconsciously tightened on Chloe and the child began to really complain. She could feel the tiny limbs begin to struggle in the blanket.. "Just wait a minute, you're not thinking…"
"Do it!"
As she knelt down, gently placing Chloe on the ground, careful not to make any sudden movements, Maggie saw the sudden shift out of the corner of her eye. McNamara lunged forward, a snarl on his face, Engelman took a second to adjust then fired.
The bullet flew through the air at an amazingly slow speed.
* * * *
The sound of the gunshot penetrated the wall.
Buffy scratched at the wall desperately, a mewl escaping her lips. She clawed the crevasse between the door and the jamb, one of her nails broke and she didn't even blink as a streak of blood appeared before her. Her head crashed against the door, she heard her name being called from behind her and she didn't care. All she knew was that she needed to get through the door and to Chloe.
Two hands came out of nowhere and took hold of her shoulders, they dragged her back and she nearly screamed in protest, but she felt their warmth. Swiveling, Buffy threw herself into Giles' arms and clung.
"She's in there!" Her voice was high and near hysterical. "We have to get through!"
* * * *
Ethan jumped up.
"I'm going in!"
"You can't just leave us!" Joyce stood up, furious in her frustration. There were black and white images on the screen and she could do nothing to help them. "You move away from here and the spell is broken!"
He looked desperately from one to the other.
"They're blocked from Chloe, don't you get that? They can't get to her unless they break the spell. A thousand soldiers and angry demons will swarm then in a second." His eyes settled on Willow and he made the decision in an instant. "Red, I need a favor."
His hand rushed out, landing in the middle of her forehead, both of their eyes closed and she breathed in suddenly. When he took his hand away, she looked up and her eyes were dark. Her breaths came shallowly.
"Stay here and keep the spell going, watch the screens and tell me what's going on, ok?"
"Tell you?" Her voice was slurred.
Yeah, the voice appeared in her head out of nowhere, just like this.
The group watched him run to the elevator door where the others had dropped from sight.
* * * *
They were backed against the wall, Xander felt as if his arms were about to drop off at any moment, they ached so hard. He drew the butt of his gun up and smashed the face of a soldier who had advanced on him. The guy fell back, blood gushing from his nose.
Behind him, he could hear Wesley's panting and was glad for it. At the moment it was the only way to assure the man was still alive. It was just him, now, holding the exit safe for the return of the group. Well, Spike was here, but he couldn't fight any of the soldiers.
"Xander!"
He spun his head around in time to see Spike standing over the groaning form of a soldier, the flash of metal caught his eye and Xander tossed his empty gun aside and caught the reloaded one that Spike had just thrown him. If he had had any time at all, Xander might have been surprised at the help.
Twisting back around, he aimed the gun at the last three remaining soldiers. They seemed to stand down, suddenly, their weapons hanging at their sides. Xander blinked.
"Get back."
The voice behind him was new. He could recognize it as Ethan's. He turned his head, reluctantly, to see the man dragging Wesley into the elevator.
"Spike, you too." Ethan didn't wait for any argument. "Get him upstairs now. I want you out of here in ten seconds."
He ran forward without looking back, leaving Xander and Spike to stare at the three soldiers standing still as statues.
* * * *
"What have you done?" Walsh looked over to Engelman, her face outraged, a splattering of blood making a trail down her right cheek. "I was going to save her."
* * * *
Tara looked up from the screen, her eyes calmly watching Willow, taking in the electricity of the woman who all but sparkled as she controlled the magicks given to her. As she watched, Tara could see Willow undulate with the pulses of the energy. This was powerful, this was beyond anything she had seen from Willow before. It almost frightened her. Something caught her eye and she looked up, catching sight of the blinking lights of the elevator before the others. She laid a hand on Cordy's arm.
The elevator beeped it's arrival and the doors slid open. Spike and Xander half walked half fell out of the lift, supporting Wesley between them. Joyce grabbed the first aid kit and rushed forward. They lowered Wesley to the ground and quickly began to examine the wound.
"I swear to god, Wes," She glared at him, but Wesley could see the tremor of Cordy's chin. "you've gotta give two weeks notice or you're in breach of contract."
Her tried to smile through the grimace.
"Take it out of my salary."
"He'll be okay." Joyce's voice calmed them all a little.
Spike looked at the crowd.
"You know, while he's bleeding I could…"
A spark of blue ran from Willow's fingertip to Spike, forcing him to sit on one a nearby chair. She barely took her eyes of the screen as she spoke.
"Sit. Behave."
"Ok then." Spike began to rifle through the papers on a table, his eyebrows high. "Let's just see what the soldier boys do when they're not torturing me, then."
Xander walked towards where the group had stationed the computer and spell ingredients, he watched Willow carefully. Tara nodded to him and he gave a vague nod back. His eyes flickered from the screen to Willow.
"Things are getting exciting, huh? Isn't Ethan supposed to doing this?"
He waited. It took Willow several seconds of heavy breathing before she looked up at him, almost as an afterthought. A tremor ran down his spine.
"I'm okay."
He wasn't sure if he believed her.
From the floor, Joyce gave a gasp, she had just seen another bubble of blood from Wesley's nose.
* * * *
A scream sounded through the wall and made them all stop breathing. It was the sound of a baby, crying in protest, in pain. Buffy barely had time to squirm out of Giles' arms before launching herself back at the door. She needn't have worried, she felt the figure of Giles hit the wall next to her, frantic fingers searching for a weakness, a hole, a chip in the paint.
"It's the spell." Anya whispered, horrified at the scene in front of her, the gunshot echoing in her ears. She looked at Riley who had the same look of frustration in his eyes. "Even if they found an opening…"
Elizabeth stood still. She could barely breathe. It wasn't that she didn't want to open the door, it wasn't that she didn't have the need to hurl herself at the cement and bricks and steel, it was just that she couldn't move. A thickness swarmed her limbs and she hated it, could almost spit it out like acid. She closed her eyes and felt the air around her move as a figure rushed past her. An uneasy sickness entered her stomach and her eyes flew open again.
"The door, watch it." Ethan tossed some spare ammunition at Riley, who in turn handed some to Anya. He watched as they executed this quickly, efficiently, his instincts forcing him to take note of the group's strengths, he looked at the trembling form of Elizabeth, and weaknesses. "We don't have much time, I'm going to tear a hole in the containment spell, but we need to be prepared for whatever comes through."
Anya and Riley nodded quickly, their weapons ready. In the matter of a few seconds he had taken in the blood on the wall that his mind could match perfectly to Buffy's fingertips, the desperation that thickened the air. He looked at Rupert and Buffy, could see the hand that protectively encased Buffy's hand, could see the way Buffy hunched over in pain. Could see the hatred leaking out of Rupert's eyes, tinged with relief. It hurt Ethan, just a little, that it hurt Giles so much to need him.
He whispered his words, quickly, quietly, nervously. A ripple ran through the air and he heard a low roaring somewhere in the building. Ethan hoped whatever had made that roar wouldn't head this way.
* * * *
Dr. Engelman rushed forward, his gun dropping to the ground forgotten, his hand reaching out as he fell to his knees, already anticipating the fight to tear the infant from Walsh's grasp. His fingers slid messily on skin slick with blood.
"Give her to me."
"No." Walsh almost spat at him, her lips drawn back into a snarl. "She's mine."
"I beg to differ." Engelman's eyes widened and his head jerked forward on his neck. He knelt upright for a second, maybe two, before crumpling to the ground. Walsh's eyes met Colonel McNamara's. "I believe that child belongs to the Initiative."
"That child," The voice was hard and cold and full of hatred. It made both Walsh and McNamara turn and stare wide eyed. "Belongs to me."
Buffy counted to three before rushing forward, her head leaning slightly to the right. Her eyes sized the situation up. Engelman unconscious on the floor, Walsh, lying with her shoulder torn open by the bullet, McNamara with a gun and deadly glint in his eyes.
It happened in less than a second. McNamara had scooped up the child, holding her in the crook of his left arm, his right hand pointing the gun straight at Buffy. She stopped cold, breathing hard and listening to the sounds behind her, Giles and Ethan also pulling up.
"Let's not be hasty. We don't want any accidents." McNamara smiled coldly. "Do we?"
"You're going to give me that baby." Buffy held his eyes, staring at him, not letting him look away from her.
"I don't think so." He cocked the gun and his finger began to squeeze the trigger.
"Buffy?"
She heard Giles' voice and ducked to the side at the last second. Buffy felt the gun go off behind her, could almost imagine the pathway of the bullet as it whizzed by her ear and embedded itself into McNamara's chest. He dropped the gun.
Buffy spun forward, diving with her arms outstretched as McNamara dropped Chloe. The baby landed in her arms and she couldn't move for several seconds, frozen. Couldn't believe that she had Chloe in her arms, healthy and unharmed. Then everything came to her with a rush, the sound of Chloe screaming, the sound of Giles and Ethan rushing forward, the feel of blood between her and the ground, the groan of Walsh just inches from her face.
She scrambled up, holding Chloe tight and cooing to her. Looking back, she saw Ethan holding McNamara to the wall by his throat. A small part of her hoped it would hurt, hoped it would hurt a lot. Giles was stripping his shirt off, making it into a makeshift bandage and sling for Walsh. She hoped that hurt too.
"You'll never get away with this." McNamara spat at them, Ethan tightened his hold.
"I think we just did."
"We'll come after you, Slayer, we're the government." He nudged the bag that Walsh had dropped with his foot. "If I'm not mistaken, Walsh has falsified legal documentation for that baby. What have you got? Nothing. You were never pregnant, there's a whole college here to testify to that. Elizabeth isn't even from this dimension. Face it, that child doesn't exist in this reality. You have no legal rights to…"
Buffy looked to Giles, she looked down at Chloe.
"That's where you're mistaken. We have a birth certificate with my and Mr. Giles' names on it. Plus, one single DNA test will prove beyond the shadow of a doubt she is our child."
"But…"
"Don't. Make. Me. Angry." Buffy paused. "Er."
She bent down to kiss Chloe's head, then nodded to Giles.
"Let's just get out of here. Okay? I'm ready to go home."
Walsh put out her good arm and stopped Giles.
"The folder… over there… take it."
Giles grabbed it and he and Buffy made their way back to the others. At the last minute, Buffy turned around, she looked at Ethan, his hands closed tightly around McNamara's neck. Many images and memories swirled through her head, most of them painful, but some of them not.
She was under no misconceptions about what he planned to do.
"Ethan, it's time to go."
"No." He looked at her, meeting her eyes for the first time. "You go, I have to stay here and take care of business."
She turned to the space that they had come through, could hear Giles and Anya and Elizabeth, looked down to Chloe and then looked back at Ethan.
"Don't do this, Ethan."
"You wanted me to play the villain, Buffy." His eyes spoke their apologies again, this time she could tell he meant them. "Now shut up and let me do it."
A shadow of a smile graced her lips.
"Thank you."
And then she was gone.