Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)
Disclaimer: The characters and fictional placings of either of these shows do not belong to me. They belong to Cameron/ Eglee (Dark Angel), Joss Whedon (BtVS) and Whedon/ Greenwalt (AtS). Only the story belongs to me.
Rating: 13 (for now)
Genre: Crossover of DA/ BtVS
Type: WiP
Timeline/ Spoilers: Post Season 5 for Buffy. Up to LAtR for DA. Story set in DA time.
Summary: BtVS/ DA crossover. Life brings about so many changes. Especially when one has just risen from the dead.
A/N- Not all of the events that took place in Dark Angel will be present in this fiction. And there may be more time passing between events than it appeared on the show. So I guess that makes this AU.
A/N2- Portions of this chapter were taken from the BtVS Episode "Bargaining Part One" written by Marti Noxon and David Fury.
Chapter Seven
May 22nd, 2021
Breaker’s Woods, outside Sunnydale
Near midnight
"I got to tell ya Logan," Alec smirked as he stared down at the crumbling gray headstone that marked the older man’s cousin’s grave. "You have a weird family." There was no response from the figure kneeling beside the stone. Not that he really expected any. But ever since they’d entered these woods, the hackles on the back of his neck had been on the rise. He glanced back at Max, who was once again huddling into herself. Her arms were wrapped around her middle and he could see white knuckles peeping out from underneath her elbows. Whatever was bothering him, it was bothering Max just as much, if not more. She hadn’t said a word once they’d gotten back into the car.
"I mean, "she saved the world a lot"," he continued on, speaking more to break the preternatural silence of the forest than any other reason. "What does that mean? Was she supposed to be some sort of super hero?" The epitaph on the grave marker had puzzled them all and Logan seemed to have shrugged it off. He’d already explained that it was Buffy’s friends and Dawn who’d chosen the stone and words. Alec figured that there must have been just a pinch more of hero worship left in the younger sister to choose something like that. He sighed.
Standing about like this was not accomplishing anything and Alec had the very real desire to get the hell out of Dodge. Or Sunnydale, as it was. He backtracked over to Max. "I’m gonna have a look around." He was given no response and he glanced up at the sky. There was little to see aside from treetops and stars. But the moon peeked through at them if he craned his neck just right. He stared at the woman before him, but she was staring through him. "Max!" Her startled face came up to meet his gaze. "I’m going to take a look around." She nodded slowly. "You wanna come?" She shook her head and then resumed her morose staring contest with the ground by Logan.
Alec chose a random direction and ambled off a little ways. The trees seemed to close quickly around him, but he had no fear of them. The choking sensation that had been creeping up his body seemed to ease the further he got away from the grave. And while he was occasionally given over to a bit of fear, which was healthy in his mind, (What better way to stay alive, right?) the fear that was present in this space was not originating from any of them. But Alec dealt with the real world. Wishes, hopes, dreams, weren’t really for him. Others could have that. They could wish for a better world. He had to live in this one. He was almost lost in thought when a voice filtered back to him.
"Does everybody have their candles?" it was a feminine voice and one Alec knew was not Max. He tried to pinpoint where it was coming from and as near as he could discern, it was back from the way he came. He turned around as the woman’s answer came.
"I’m trying," another woman, again not Max, said. "My lighter won’t stay lit." He took a few steps forward, wondering what idiotic kids were doing in the forest with candles near midnight. Probably doing a séance or some other stupid thing, he assured himself. Still, it wasn’t exactly polite for them to have chosen that exact time and place when Logan was trying to get some closure in his mind and life. Not that Alec was really concerned about that. But they really didn’t need people questioning why they were here, aside from Logan’s sojourn to his cousin’s grave.
"Well hurry, it has to-!" the first voice came again. But it was another woman’s voice that made him run. Because it wasn’t often that Max truly panicked and he could hear it in her voice as she and Logan called for him.
"What?" he gasped as he burst through the trees again. His eyes widened as he took in the new people gathered around Buffy Summer’s grave. Max had panicked because people had shown up and were playing with candles. He glanced at her, perplexed. "Who are they?" he asked in a calmer, quieter voice, but Max was shaking her head.
"What time is it?" a blonde asked as she held a candle before her. The only man of the group checked his watch.
"A minute till midnight," he answered, his voice tight.
Alec took in the scene, not quite used to being completely ignored. The other group hadn’t even acknowledged his burst of frenzied running into this little clearing. He turned to Max and Logan and was struck by the looks of mutual horror they wore. "What’s the matter? I don’t get it."
Max managed to unwind her arms from their seemingly permanent position around her waist and stooped to pick up a piece of deadfall. "Watch," she murmured. And before Alec could protest, she’d hurled it straight at the group. Alec’s eyes widened and his mouth gaped as the stick flew through the bodies before them and landed with a thunk against the trunk of a tree across from them.
"What the fuck!" he half-yelled.
"Exactly," Max growled. The other group had kept talking, if it were possible. Could ghosts talk? Is that what they were seeing? But now, the foursome had moved to encircle Buffy’s grave and they knelt around it. Three of them held candles, but the fourth held some kind of urn. The redhead with the urn knelt at the foot of the grave.
"What the hell is going on?" Alec asked in a slight breath.
"My God," Logan gasped out, finally coming out of his startlement. "Those were Buffy’s friends. I knew they looked familiar."
"Her friends?" Max gaped. How was it possible for Buffy’s friends to be here this night? Things here just weren’t adding up. But Logan was nodding.
"I vaguely remember them from Joyce’s funeral," he explained. "That’s Willow, I think," he pointed at the redhead. Then to the blonde who’d been unable to light her candle. "And Anna, I think." His hand moved to indicate the male. "I know he’s Xander, because Dawn used to have a crush on him. And the other one’s name is Tara, if I remember right."
"What is she doing?" Max demanded suddenly, her eyes trained on the redhead. The ghostly figure was pouring something into the urn.
"Is that blood?" Alec demanded, even though both transgenics could clearly smell the iron tang. Even Logan felt a small familiar tickle in his nose as somehow the breeze caught the lingering scent and carried it to them.
"Osiris, keeper of the gate, master of all fate, hear us," the redhead intoned as she dipped her finger into the urn. Her finger came away bloody, of course and the trio watched in sickening fascination as she daubed the blood over her cheeks and forehead. "Before time and after," she continued. "Before knowing and nothing." She picked up the urn and with a twist of her wrist, upended it, letting the blood trickle out over the earth. "Accept our offering. Know our prayer."
"What the hell is she doing?" Logan demanded in a strangled whisper.
"Is this what we’re here for?" Alec whispered. "Are we supposed to stop this or something." He made to move forward and see what effect a real person in the midst of the circle might accomplish, but Max’s hand on his arm stayed him.
"Wait," she commanded her voice much calmer than it had been. Both Alec and Logan looked at her, not understanding the suddenly calm facade that had taken her over. "Be quiet." They stilled, though were still uneasy. There was a moment of tension among the foursome and suddenly the redhead, Willow jerked backwards. Logan winced as her arms flew out to her side and deep ugly gashes began to appear.
"Is this some sort of bloodletting ritual?" Alec whispered, really trying to get a handle on what he was seeing.
"Be quiet," Max ordered again. He snuck a sidelong glance at her and decided that in the mood she’d been in tonight, perhaps it was better to do as she suggested and wait. He turned back to see the male, Xander, reaching for her, but the blonde with the longer hair, Tara, was stopping him.
"She t- she told me… she’d be tested," the woman stuttered. "This is supposed to happen." Neither of the other two looked reassured.
"Osiris!" Willow yelled. "Here lies the warrior of the people. Let her cross over."
"My God," Logan whimpered. "Are they trying to resurrect her?" He was aghast. Alec shared the feeling. Whatever else Buffy might have been, she must have been crazy and had in turn, attracted crazy people to her.
"They’re not really here Logan," Max assured him, her voice steady. "I think this was in the past."
"Then how come we’re seeing this now?" Alec demanded harshly. He was a soldier. And soldiers dealt in reality, not this hocus pocus, mumbo jumbo. Willow let out a low moan of pain and the trio turned back their full attention to the scene. None were just content to let the scene play out before them, but seeing how the bodies seemed to be noncorporeal, there was little they could do. Aside from leaving. And like the scene of a car-wreck, their morbid curiosity forced them to watch.
Little bulges now, appeared under Willow’s arm, moving upwards, almost following the path of her veins. Once at her shoulders, they crossed over her chest, converging at her neck and then moving into her face. Logan fought back the urge to vomit and Max carefully placed a steadying hand on his coat-covered arm.
Apparently he wasn’t the only one bothered by this as Xander yelled out, "she needs help!" But Tara was quick to reassure him.
"Xander, she’s strong!" she half-yelled back. "She said not to stop, no matter what. If we break the cycle now, it's over." Even as all members of both parties continued to watch, there came a rumbling noise that had the trio whipping their heads around to find the source.
"It’s not here," Max said quickly.
"How do you know?" Logan questioned. She gestured to the foursome.
"They’re reacting to it as well." Logan looked back and nodded. Anna, no… it was Anya was looking very perturbed.
"Oh God," Anya gasped. "What is that noise?" There were no assurances from the others. They knew as little as she did.
"Osiris, let her cross over!" Willow yelled again. But she couldn’t say more as the mounds that had circulated under her skin moved again, congregating at her neck. She began to choke and gasp.
"Oh my God, oh my God," Tara panted, obviously torn between obeying the redhead and helping her friend. Willow fell forward, her hands bracing on the ground before she fell completely. Her mouth hung open as she gagged and all three, transgenics and ordinary reeled back as the head of a snake appeared in her mouth. Willow clutched at the grass in her fingers as her whole body went stiff. The snake slithered its way out of her body to slowly coil upon the ground, as Willow writhed.
"It’s a test," Tara shuddered. "It’s a test. Willow…" But the redhead was choking up the last little bits of whatever had been in her mouth. Wearily, she looked at the snake that had begun to glow with a slightly orangish red tinge. She pushed herself back up to a kneeling position and waved a hand to the others, as if to reassure them that she was as well as could be. Willow resumed her supine position and continued to call out to Osiris.
The light of energy that surrounded the viper in their midst grew until it was consuming the snake’s entire length. With a strange hissing noise, the snake disintegrated, but the light stayed. It began to swirl, slowly upwards and then zoomed to swirl around Willow. The woman panted as the light seemed to buffet her back and forth. This went on for a few minutes as Willow struggled. Her spine went straight and her jaw worked furiously, trying to command instead of allowing the lights to control her.
"Osiris, release her!" she shouted again. The trio could hear now the rumbling growing louder, and the sound of someone running through the underbrush came to them. But when the figure burst through into the grove, directly behind Tara, it was someone not many of them expected.
"Willow!" The figure called, strangely calm for all the running. "I need service!"
"Oh God," Logan choked out, his eyes wide and unbelieving. "Buffy?" Alec threw a sharp glance at the older man. Logan had seemed to have missed a slight detail that he’d already picked up on. He glanced at Max, but she was watching in silence, her demeanor having changed little. He was about to speak and point out the strange energy that was crackling, emanating from the one Logan had named as Buffy, but the girl glanced around behind her and began to run again.
Whatever Alec was going to say was lost as new beings entered into the mix. The rumbling they’d heard, they should have recognized, having heard it before. The noise of many motorcycles. But it wasn’t the foolishness of riding through such dense brush that stunned them. It was the things employing the machines. Strange hideous beings, the likes of which they’d only imagined in their nightmares. Or in Max’s case, what she’d imagined was in the basement back at Manticore.
The things, nomalies circled after Buffy, trapping her. But more of them came, encircling the foursome as well. Logan had taken a step forward, after the phantom that was his cousin. He gasped and shuddered as one of the nomalies passed through him. The other group had moved as well. The two blondes and Xander were huddling together.
"Willow!" Tara screamed, lunging for her friend as one of the nomalies rode closer to her. It cut back, twisting the motorcycle to cut them off from each other. It rode over the grave, smashing the urn underneath it.
Willow’s eyes went wide. "No!" she screamed. The light dissipated around her and she collapsed on the ground. The trio watched in fascination as the lights sank down to the ground, hovering over the broken urn. The rest of the scene faded, the voices lingering in the air. When silence had reigned for many minutes, Alec suddenly let out a loud whoosh of air.
"Holy fuck," he breathed. "What the hell was all that?" He turned to look at the others. Logan was staring in puzzlement over the direction that his phantom cousin had run off in. But Max, she was still focused on the grave. She moved forward and Alec could see her lips moving, but he heard no words. "Max?" Logan turned back to look at them, the expression on his face deepening. "Max? What are you doing?"
"My God, Alec," Logan gasped out. "She’s glowing." Alec saw it as well, a faint light emanating from beneath her clothing. Strangely enough it seemed to match the faint light that had been left behind by whatever it was that Willow had conjured forth. The light that had begun in the viper. A light that was now twinkling over the grass that had grown back in the years since Buffy Summers had been buried. Logan hurried forward to that spot, trying to decipher what was still going on.
"Stay back Max," Alec commanded, grabbing hold of her sleeve. But with a simple circular sweep of her arm, she’d brushed his hold away and continued moving forward.
"Look!" Logan pointed out excitedly as he dug in the ground. Both transgenics came forward and knelt around the foot of the grave. Logan had pulled the grass and sod away, revealing a shattered urn. One that matched precisely what they had just seen. Logan looked at Alec, fear written in his eyes. "Could that have been real?" he demanded in a shaky voice. Alec was already shaking his head. Not because he didn’t believe it was real, but because he was just as shaken as the older man.
"I don’t know what that was," he admitted, exhaling slowly. "But your cousin…"
"Yeah," Logan grunted. "Out of all of that, she made the least sense. How could that have happened?" his voice was quietly anguished. He looked to Max, who was still quietly contemplating the broken urn. "She died. They were at her grave, yet she was there."
"I don’t think it was really her Logan," Alec consoled, finally voicing his initial suspicion.
"What?" Logan shook his head. "She was a hallucination? She might have been. This whole damn thing could have been one."
"Except that all three of us saw it and that’s not possible either," Alec argued. He glanced back at Max, his face hardening. "But right now we have much bigger concerns." Logan cocked his head and Logan pointed at the man’s former girlfriend. "You know, like why Max is glowing."
"Oh," Logan mumbled. "Right. Or maybe more precisely why only parts of her are glowing?"
"Max?" Alec called, trying to get her attention. She’d shaken him off before and his grip was much more firm this time. He shook her arm and then realized that the glow was stronger at her shoulder. Suspicion took root in his mind and he moved his hand down to where her sleeve ended. Exchanging a warning glance with Logan, he carefully pulled the fabric up. Max did not react at all, which really worried the two men. And just as he suspected, the only part of Max really glowing, shining with that eerie red-orange glow was where her glyphs had been. With her still motionless, he dared removing the light jacket she wore. Once he’d done that, her head tilted. Alec recalled the way she’d been speaking with silent words earlier. He wondered who on earth she could be have a silent conversation with and if there might be something in Sunnydale air that made people crazy.
"No!" Logan yelped. "Max don’t!" She was reaching for the pieces of urn that were glowing as well. Alec snapped his hand forward to prevent contact being made. But it seemed not to matter. Sparks erupted between Max and the ground. The lights flared up, blinding both men. But more than that was the resulting blast of force that threw them back, away from Max. When they’d recovered moments later, Max was encased in the same swirling vortex that had ensnared the phantom Willow. Logan darted forward even as Alec did. But while one intended to try and reach Max, the other was trying to prevent just that.
"Don’t touch her Logan!" Alec yelled, thoroughly disgusted. The man had no sense at all. How many times was this now that he’d instinctively tried to make physical contact with the woman whose bare skin could end his life? Luckily though, Logan came back to himself and stopped short. Alec continued forward with some vague thought of pulling Max out of the lights in his mind. But the lights protected their own it seemed and knocked him back again.
"What the hell is going on?" Logan barked.
"Hell if I know," Alec snapped back. "That seems to be the freaking mantra of tonight, doesn’t it?" His comment was not as humorous as he normally would have intended it to be. He was worried, they both were. But Max, strangely enough, appeared completely serene within the buffeting of the lights.
A strange dull roar filled the men’s ears and the ground trembled slightly. The lights slowed their swirling, pinpointing on where the hieroglyphs had adorned her body. And as they moved, her body absorbed them, the twinkling orange glow sinking into her flesh as her body rocked slightly from the force of it. Seconds passed and then Alec once again tried to reach Max. He succeeded, if only in physical location.
"Max?" he gasped, shaking her slightly. She stared straight ahead still, not acknowledging him. "Max? Are you okay?"
"Damn it Max," Logan choked out, "answer!" But her only response was a low moan that rumbled through her throat. To both of them it sounded like a wounded animal. The moan grew in intensity until her mouth opened to emit a piercing shriek. They flinched back, never having encountered the power of her voice at full force. It was stronger than they could have imagined possible, even for a transgenic with enhanced lung capability.
Max howled as the lights that had only moments before entered her body, exited with more force than they’d exhibited previously. The light burst from her, coalescing into a large ball that hovered a moment only. She whimpered, teetering in a precarious back and forth.
‘Sacrifice accepted!’ a preternatural, deep, booming voice rang out.
Max fell forward, landing on her face as the lights sank into the earth. She was unmoving and it took the men a second to realize, to hope that it was over. When it seemed it was, Alec darted forward again, wary of another invisible attack. But when he was able to touch her side with no ill effect to him, he breathed a sigh of relief. But he realized the ordeal was still on when he rolled her over.
"Son of a bitch!" he swore vehemently and spared a glance at Logan. "Stay back. She’s bleeding." Logan nodded shakily and rocked back onto his heels, ready to help if needed. Alec swore again softly as he saw the blood in the form of the hieroglyph that had adorned her chest before it began to saturate the rest of the material of her shirt. He checked at her shoulder, but the blood was seeping so quickly that he couldn’t tell if the same had happened on all the glyphs. "We need to stop the bleeding."
"Use whatever you have to," Logan ordered. "I’ll go get my first aid kit from the car." He didn’t wait for Alec’s confirmation and was already hurrying away. Alec didn’t spare a glance for him as he peeled off his own jacket and then shirt. Her shoulder, wrists and chest were all bleeding, though not as much as perhaps a second ago. Swiftly, he decided to concentrate on the danger zones first. He gathered her wrists together in one hand, trying to apply pressure by holding the injured insides of her wrists together. And with his other hand used his shirt to press down on her chest. He lowered his face to hers, turning his head so that he could feel her whisper soft breath against his cheek and breathed a sigh of relief.
Alec pulled back his shirt, still careful to maintain pressure on her wrists. To his relief the wound seemed to be seeping only slightly. He pressed the shirt back and then checked her wrists, finding the same thing. Whatever had caused her to bleed was thankfully only superficial. Alec took the opportunity to take her pulse, finding it strong and regular. He glanced up from his watch as he heard her moan.
"Hey Maxie," he spoke softly, encouragingly. "That’s right. Wake up."
"Alec?" she asked in a whisper. He moved so that she could see him easily.
"Right here," he assured her. "Are you okay?"
She turned her face slightly so that she could see him fully. Her voice was slightly raspy, but she seemed fully alert. "What happened?" Okay, so maybe alert, but confused?
Chapter Eight
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