Fic: RFJ 1: Magician/Bateleur, part 3/4

[beccaelizabeth]

Ripper
Fools Journey
1
Magician/Bateleur

Part: 3/4

Rating: I'm aiming for a tone much like Buffy or Angel, which are 15 to 18 rated in the UK.
Pairing(s): None. Yet.
Spoilers: Post Chosen, post Not Fade Away. Refers to earlier series canon.
Second in my Fool's Journey series, the rest in memories here

Summary: Rupert Giles, Andrew Wells, and a situation in a dark house.

23500 words total, 7000 words this part

Disclaimer: Joss told us to "Write fan fic."
So they're still his toys, but he seems to not mind us playing with them.
No money, no harm.

Thanks to pinkdormouse for beta.

Author's notes and warnings:
Once upon a time, there was to be a series called Ripper.
It would star Giles, and it would be about ghosts.
Well, I'm still waiting.
In the meantime, I figured I'd write it myself.
Since ghosts are a central feature, character death is going to happen throughout the series. But that doesn't always remove them from the story. So sometimes the warning is character death, and sometimes it is more character transformation.

I used Tarot cards as inspiration for the 22 episodes, hence 'Fools Journey'. The Fool is card 0. Card 1 of the Major Arcana is The Magician, also known as the Bateleur.

Part 1/4 here
Part 2/4 here

*** *** ***


“Andrew?” Una asked, hesitantly.

Andrew turned, bowl in hand, and drew a breath to speak.

But as soon as she saw that blood, Una was moving. She darted forwards, grabbed the bowl, and headed for the stairs.

“Una, wait!” Andrew called after her rapidly retreating back.

Giles got himself moving behind her, even though he lacked a plan for when he caught up, but he knew he'd be too late. Andrew hit the stairs beside him and they started climbing, but Una already disappeared along the landing.

The hum and tremble of magic rose once more to feel like a storm against windows until, with a sharp crack and a shaking that knocked them both to their knees, the power rushed in to a single point. Giles knew, above them, the portal had formed.

He pulled himself up with the handrail and went quickly to see the damage, Andrew right behind him.

The room Una had worked in was right by the stairs, at the opposite end of the house to where he had been captive. He knew this before he got there, from the glow, and the steady wind streaming out the door. He reached the doorway and stopped, taking in the scene.

Una stood in the center of a bare room. Dull white walls and bare floorboards, both marked with chalk, and other substances. Red brown marks along the wall, carefully drawn. Wet red on the floor, splashed in the center where the symbols were most closely drawn. There were two windows, both glowing. The one in the wall was tinged slightly pink, their barrier spell still on it. The other one was the problem. The oval hanging in mid air, edges glowing white and red, center fading to unnatural blackness.

The portal. Half as tall as he was. Air streaming out of it – air that came from a demon dimension.

Andrew, beside him, simply said, “Woah.”

Una stood between the windows, bowl still in hand. On the floor beside her were assorted tools and components for the spell, the knife Andrew had used and the Ralamborn's Realms book among them. Una ignored it all, staring intently at the portal before her.

“Uh... Una? Honey? Do you think you could... back away, a little?” Andrew asked cautiously. He stayed in the doorway, leaning forward, but holding on to the frame.

Giles started to go through his pockets, taking inventory.

Una didn't move.

“Andrew... isn't it beautiful?” she whispered, reverently. “A window on another world... My world. It's just... so cool!” She grinned – her teeth only showing a little – and looked over at Andrew. “Come and see!” She held a hand out to him.

Andrew kept hold of the door frame, but edged into the room a little and reached for her in turn.

“It's pretty cool. Shiny. But we haven't checked yet, we don't know if that is your world. Or, any world, really. It's just dark. If you come away a minute we'll go see what the books say...”

“Oh, Andrew, don't be silly! There's so much in there. Trees, and houses maybe. It's all so different. Alien. But familiar, too. I don't know... I think I've dreamed of this.” She looked more closely at the window, let her hand fall.

“Are you sure? I don't see any of that. Just dark.”

“Maybe it's a night vision thing. I know your eyes aren't good at night. Mine are. Maybe that's because home is meant to be dark.” Una moved a half a step closer to the thing, her hand rising, reaching out to it.

“No, wait! Don't touch! Magic, Una, not for touching!” Andrew said urgently, finally stepping into the room.

Una looked around with a start, then stepped back again. “Right. Sorry. You're right.” She blinked a little, then bent to put the bowl down and pick up the book. “We should... compare stuff. See what the book says, if it matches. And maybe you could get a camera...”

Andrew was nodding, watching Una, but Giles kept his eyes on the window. So he was first to see it.

“Andrew – the portal.” Giles warned, moving into the room, with the Doors book in one hand and his knife in the other.

Andrew looked around, and Una looked up.

In the portal, something was moving. Dim, at first, and seeming distant, but getting larger, nearer. Grey white, pallid, with two patches of darkness, it got up close to the window and finally resolved into a face.

A giant face, more than a foot across.

It looked as if a humanoid head had been opened at the back and pulled apart, or as if they were seeing someone from all sides at once. Black hair framed both edges, but the face between seemed rolled out, stretched wide and flat. The distortions looked bizarre, even without the pointed ears sticking out either side and almost doubling the width of it.

Even so, it looked, just a little, like the demon girl in the room with them. Like Una. Who froze, looking up at it, her mouth hanging open.

The vast face looked down at her, and split into a grin. The smile looked like a cartoon, or an advertisement for toothpaste, hanging there huge and sparkling with too-red lips. Then color spilled across the rest of the face, and suddenly it looked a lot more human.

“My little girl. My baby! Una!”

The voice was all whisper and echo, but it filled the room like the wind that carried it. As did the smell. It reminded Giles of the reptile cages at the zoo, a butcher's shop, or a Wtiurdu lair. Demons, scales, and old meals.

He stepped up beside Andrew and brought the book into his field of vision.

“On that?” Andrew whispered.

“Blood's already there.” Giles whispered back, then started the chant.

“Mommy?” Una said, in a very small voice. She straightened up slowly. “I barely remember... And this thing makes you look so funny, but... Mom?”

Andrew started his line. Giles' heart was racing, but he wasn't sure it felt like the last time.

“Oh my baby! I missed you! Come closer, let me see you!” The face beyond the window was joined by a hand. A hand with very long nails. It pressed up against the barrier, still huge looking, longer than the face.

Una stepped forwards, and Andrew moved to stop her, but Giles stopped him. They were speaking together now, and no spell should be interrupted.

Una put her hand against the other's, against the portal.

There was a flash, and the demon's grin turned vicious, as the hand – claws out – came through. Just as large as it seemed.

Una gaped in horror as the hand swung around and hit her, batting her out of the way.

Giles and Andrew reached the end of the spell, but this time the world didn't drop away. This time there were no new lights. And this time there was no barrier.

Andrew shook his head. “Metaphor window.” He darted back to the door frame, tearing the bandage off his arm. He winced and pushed his fingers over the reopened wound, dabbing blood each side of the frame. Giles joined him, copied him, mixing their blood. Andrew started the chant.

And darted back in to the room.

Giles took one step after him, then stopped. The new demon's arm was extending through the portal, a shoulder following. It had dropped all human seeming now. The skin was grey, covered in oily scales. The smile was just as wide, but now the vicious teeth were bared. It could swallow any of them whole, and as for strength, it had just casually knocked Una across the room. She was lying in a heap next to the window. And she was far more resilient than a human.

Complete the spell here and they'd be stuck in pitched battle with the thing.

Giles instead stepped back, out into the hall.

Andrew was sliding up the wall, trying to stay out of arm's reach. He finished his line, then looked at Giles. Saw where he was. He looked shocked for a moment, then his eyes narrowed, and he nodded.

Giles nodded back, and started to chant. Slowly. Giving Andrew time. As much as he could.

After all, if Andrew got stuck in there, they were both just as dead in the long run.

Andrew reached Una's side and got hold of her, getting ready to carry her cradled against his chest.

Then he saw the book. Ralamborn's Realms, full of warnings, and instructions. Including how to close this portal. He leaned forwards over Una and tried to reach it.

The demon's arm swung down at him, and he flinched back.

But down on the floor, it couldn't reach him.

He leaned forward again.

Giles, slowly, neared the end of his line. This time he could feel it, just as before. With a physical door to focus on the god of doors would answer. But not if Andrew didn't ask again.

Andrew stayed pressed to the floor, half covering Una, arms inching across to get at the book. He caught hold of a corner and tried to pull it closer. The demon looked down at him and screeched in frustration.

Then it looked off to the side somewhere, and hissed something.

New figures joined it. Smaller versions. Much smaller – any one of them could fit in the big one's hand.

And that hand could get through the portal.

They scrambled up, onto the arm, and out into this world.

The first one jumped on the book and sat there, hissing. Andrew flinched back, and the second one's leap narrowly missed him. He opened his mouth, and Giles winced in anticipation of a broken spell, but the first word out his mouth was a very sincere “Janus.” Giles joined him hastily. “Doorkeeper of the gods.” The chant uninterrupted, the god's attention drew them in.

Now all Giles could see was himself, Andrew, and the door.

After the first few rushed words Giles tried to slow the chant down, but Andrew would have none of it. He had his arms cradled against his chest, Una presumably in them, and stood up to leave with her.

Then staggered sideways as something hit him.

Three shallow wounds opened up on his shoulder, a glancing blow from the demon's claws.

“Accept,” Andrew yelped, then continued more steadily, though gasping, “This our offering, our living blood.”

They couldn't see the arm, or the smaller demons, but the threat was still there. Giles stood in the doorway and waved his knife defensively, but still felt something push past his legs.

Andrew slid along where the wall should be, moving with some difficulty. “In our time of need.” Giles thought again how they had to protect themselves, stay mobile and somehow resolve this. He hesitated one moment, then dropped the knife and leaned inside, one hand gripping the door frame, the other reaching for Andrew.

“Close these gates, please.” Andrew got close enough to grab. “Bar and...” Giles got hold of him and pulled hard, “Lock them!”

The spell sizzled up his side as he and Andrew fell back out into the corridor.

They lay there panting, more dizzy now than ever, as the barrier solidified and the world came back into view. Miniature demons thudded into it, hissing furiously, their displeasure muted now.

Una lay in the corridor with them, sprawled half across Andrew as he lay awkwardly on the floor.

Giles found half his back was in empty air, on the first step of the staircase. He'd forgotten where that was, precisely. They'd been lucky.

Inside the room the little demons were testing the barriers, on the door and the natural window, with no success. The largest demon seemed stuck half way through the portal, unable to get much more than a shoulder in.

For a moment Giles thought their luck was all good.

Then the demon reached down, with blood stained claws, and started drawing on the floor.

The portal started to get wider.

Giles sat up, wincing. “Oh, as usual, dear.”

“What?” Andrew asked, sitting up hurriedly in alarm. He saw what the demon was doing, looked puzzled for a moment, then said “Oh.” He raised his hand to poke gingerly at his injured shoulder. “Sorry.”

Andrew's blood, used earlier in the ritual, easy to use now.

Giles sighed and told him, “Don't apologise. You didn't set out to be injured.”

“No, I just came up with the stupid plan in the first place.” Andrew sighed. He gently examined Una, then carefully lowered her to the floor, and got the first aid tin out his pocket again. He opened it, looking at the dwindling supplies. The cuts they'd made earlier were bleeding again, as well as the new wounds. “We're going to run out of bandages,” he observed. Then he put the tin down and got up, slowly. “There's more in the bathroom. I'll get... Uh-oh.” He'd reached the next door down, and stopped.

There was a red sheen across it.

Andrew reached for the handle, but while it poked out just a little, it wouldn't move at all. Neither would the door.

“Great. This time it got all of them,” Andrew complained.

“All the windows the first time, all the external doors the second... I hope. Is there a back door?”

“In the kitchen. You think we should check?”

“I think I felt some of those smaller ones get out while we were casting.”

“We should check.” Andrew nodded. Then went pale, and slid down the wall again. “Or, we could sit here a minute.”

Giles went to him quickly. Truth be told, he wasn't feeling very good himself, but the boy was more injured.

“Here, get that jacket off, I'll stop the bleeding.”

Andrew fumbled with the coat while Giles checked the first aid tin. They were short on gauze and bandage, but had plenty of antiseptic left, and the butterfly things that substituted for stitches. When Giles got a clear look at the wounds he knew they were going to need them. Three long, thin cuts, not deep, but from his shoulder across to his collarbone.

“Can you keep watch while I work?” Giles asked.

“Gremlin watch. Check,” Andrew said, and started looking up and down the corridor, turning his head like a security camera. While Giles worked he hissed and bit his lip, but he didn't close his eyes.

“When we're done here, we need a new plan.”

“Yeah.” Andrew briefly paused, looking at Una's still form. “Our Slayer is kind of out of it right now. And the window... did turn into a door. Sorry,” he mumbled again, then went back to his idea of keeping watch.

“Perhaps calling the Council is in order?” Giles enquired gently. “Andrew, I didn't find my phone. Do you have yours?”

Andrew shook his head. “They're on the charger.”

“And the charger is...?”

“Living room. If it's only the upstairs doors sealed, we can get to them.”

Some crashing noises came from downstairs, somewhere in the hall.

“...If they're still in one piece.”

Giles was almost done, at least as much as he could manage now. “There. That should hold for now. Are you feeling any better?”

“Some,” Andrew said. He screwed up his face, hesitated, then admitted, “Not much. Giles, do those demons have, like, poison? I've been hit before and not felt this bad.”

Giles sighed and admitted what he'd been trying not to think about. “You weren't carrying three spells at the time.”

“Three blood magics.” Andrew caught on fast. “This, this is how they're dangerous?”

Giles nodded. He got out the regular sticking plasters for their arms. Andrew would need two. Giles could probably get away with just one big one.

“So once we call the Council, how soon would they have to be here? I mean, to help. Before... Before the spells...”

“Bleed us to death?” Giles asked calmly. “I don't know. If it was just the one door, I'd say we had days, but with three... Perhaps until sunset. How far away is that?”

“I don't know. Hours? If you don't know how long it is...”

“Janus is a god of beginnings and endings. The end of the day, the end of us... Gods tend to the symbolic.” Giles finished the first aid and got to his feet. “Shall we?”

Andrew, still looking shocky, nodded and slowly rose, pushing against the wall. He picked up his jacket and put it on again, wincing as it hit his bad shoulder. Then he pulled out his flute.

Giles looked around for his knife, and found it – sitting in the portal room, on the wrong side of the barrier.

“I don't suppose you have your tranquiliser gun on you?” Giles asked.

Andrew pointed at one of the other doors.

Giles sighed. “Right.” So he had the book, some herbs, a bit of salt, and a few rather expensive pebbles. “Give me your keys.”

Andrew looked puzzled. “They're not, like, magic keys. I don't think they'll open it.”

Giles explained, “The key chain will do for a weapon, in a pinch.”

“Oh. Right.” Andrew pulled them out and passed them over. “I guess this definitely pinches,” he sighed.

Giles arranged them so the keys were in his hand, pointing out through his fingers, irregular claws. The chain hung loose, and he made a few practice swings to get a feel for where it would go. Then he nodded, pushed his glasses more securely into place, and headed for the stairs.

He stepped over Una to get to them.

Andrew stopped, and rearranged her to lie closer to the wall.

Giles stopped three steps down, turned and waited for him.

Andrew gently pressed a kiss to Una's brow, then pushed the first aid tin up next to her.

“There's nothing we can do for her,” Giles told him, quietly. “Not right now.”

Andrew nodded. Then shook his head. “We can get the job done.”

Giles nodded in reply.

Andrew gripped his flute in both hands, ready, and they set off downstairs again.

*** *** ***

They descended as quietly as they could. Two unsteady men, one in wellington boots, are not paragons of stealth, but they tried. The noises from below were intermittent, but getting louder. Banging, and crunching, and a series of crashes that had Andrew wincing.

“I hope that's not the commemorative plates,” he muttered, gripping his flute more firmly.

They reached the bottom of the stairs. The barrier across the front door still held, though now there were claw marks on the floor around it.

Beside them, the living room door was open, but filled with the familiar red light. Giles could see the phone shelf just inside. But no way to get to it from here.

Andrew looked down the corridor, then ducked back quickly. “Kitchen,” he hissed.

“Not sealed?” Giles asked, leaning to look.

“Corridor.” Andrew shrugged. “No door on the end.”

Giles stepped forward carefully, then pressed himself against the opposite wall. The corridor was not long, but it didn't give him much view of the kitchen. There was an overturned table in the doorway. That was all he could see.

He stepped forwards again.

Then dived back as a knife flew out towards him.

It thudded into the wall where he had been, and he quickly scrambled to get back behind the stairs.

The knife looked rather familiar, if slightly larger. “You bought a knife set?”

“Yeah. From Argos. Six knives in a block.”

“Two upstairs, one here. Three left to throw.”

“Plus the regular knives for eating with. And the forks. And...”

“So we have a problem.” Giles looked at the flute, somewhat dubiously. “Can that thing work from here?”

Andrew looked a little dubious too. “Well, in theory, yeah. But I haven't looked up Dreegugze. If that's even the right name for these. There's a lot of different tunes...” Andrew caught the expression on Giles' face, and stopped whining. “But I'll try them and see.”

He put the flute to his lips, and blew.

It made a sort of hissing sound. Giles wondered if it was like a dog whistle, inaudible to humans. But then Andrew, blushing, took it away and licked his lips. Then he tried again.

This time he got a note out of it. And then a tune.

The clear, quiet notes were eerie, almost beautiful. They drew your attention even amid the noise.

Which trailed off and went quiet. There was no more crashing.

Andrew looked up at Giles hopefully, and kept playing.

Giles swallowed hard, then ducked out to look at the corridor, only sticking his head out for a moment. He got only a glimpse, but he was more interested in what he didn't get. That is, attacked. There was no knife thrown.

He waited another moment, and the silence continued.

So he leaned out into the corridor again.

This time he paused there, waiting, a clear target. But nothing happened. So, reluctantly, he took a whole step.

And then another. And another.

He could see in past the table now.

The kitchen was a mess. The only doors in the place not open were the back door and the refrigerator. Every cupboard gaped wide, high and low, along with every drawer. All the contents was being systematically evicted. Little heaps of crockery shards covered the floor, and one of the little grey demons sat on a worktop with a half denuded mug tree, one mug in hand.

It sat quite still, with its head cocked to one side, those massive ears perked up.

Giles allowed himself to hope.

He gestured for Andrew to follow, and stepped forwards again.

Now he could see the counter by the door, and the knife block. He flinched back defensively when he saw the demon standing by it, but the thing just stared at him, claws resting on a knife handle, not moving.

Andrew came up beside him and saw the mess.

His face set with resolve, he kept playing, stepped forwards and kicked the table out the way.

Behind it two hissing shrieks sounded, and two little grey bodies bounded up to perch on the table leg. They bared their teeth at Andrew, and spread their claws wide. Ears, teeth, claws, and skinny grey limbs connecting it all, knee high but about as unthreatening as a pit bull. Andrew's eyes went wide and he played a little louder.

The other two demons straightened, hissed, and grinned at them, sharp teeth gleaming.

Then the one with the mug drew his arm back and threw it at Andrew.

Giles swung immediately, punching at the knife block demon with his clawed fist. It dodged back, but pulled a knife in the process. The biggest one, of course. The demon held it over its head, almost doubling its height, and Giles swung back the chain to try and disarm him.

But then a demon from the table jumped on him, claws digging into his long coat, climbing up.

“Andrew, its not working!” Giles yelled, somewhat redundantly.

Andrew had one of the demons chasing him the few steps around each side of the kitchen. It moved in leisurely bounds, swiping at the boy's heels whenever he slowed down. The one with the mug tree had the last mug in hand, and waved the wooden stand in little circles in the air.

Andrew kept on changing the tune, but so far the miniature demons were not slowed down by it, much less controlled. They seemed to rather enjoy the musical accompaniment, bouncing in time and cackling with screeching laughter.

Giles had got the key chain spinning in a circle, getting a little momentum and using it as a shield against the knife wielder, who was so far looking on with interest. The other demon, the one climbing up the side of his coat, he batted at with his empty hand, but it just tucked in and dug its claws into the thick fabric. Finally he had to risk dropping his defence and using the keychain. He swung it round at the demon just as the thing looked up to hiss, and the chain wrapped neatly around it, much to its surprise. He yanked hard and ripped it off his coat, then dodged and swung wildly as the knife wielder ran up and joined the fight. With excellent timing, it managed to skewer its fellow with the carving knife, which then whipped out of its reach as the chain completed its arc. The impaled demon flew off to land in a corner somewhere. Giles grabbed for the knife block, but so did the demon, and they came away with one knife apiece.

Andrew kept on playing, the notes now nothing Giles would call a tune, but having no special expertise in this style of magic he had no idea if they were getting closer to useful. He found his full attention taken up fencing with the foot tall demon on the worktop in front of him. The little bastard was too fast and strong to ignore for even a moment. Giles just had to hope Andrew could cope with his two on his own.

Giles used the chain to whip the knife block off the counter, and after that the little demon kept on backing away. Giles kept after it, not daring to give it room to throw the knife again. But that meant closing in on the corner, and the other demon, the one with the mug tree.

Well that didn't have to be a problem.

Giles stepped sideways, Andrew dodging out of his way, and whipped the keychain at the encumbered demon. It dropped the wood to get out of the way but didn't jump far enough, and got swept off the counter. The little grey demon grabbed on to the bundle of key fobs on its end of the chain and hung on for dear life, as Giles used the increased mass to good effect as a somewhat unwieldy mace. The knife wielder, learning from experience, got the blade out of the way, trying not to impale anything this time. That left the one on the keychain to thud into the kitchen worktop, then the wall, mouth wide open and screeching, claws tangled in the ornaments. But the knife carrier dodged vertically, bounding up into the open cabinets above, and then turned, knife raised to throw.

And stopped.

As did the screeching from the end of the keychain.

Behind Giles, Andrew kept playing those same few notes over and over, and then there was a quiet little crunchy squish.

The chained demon lost its grip and flew off across the kitchen, hitting the wall with a similar wet crunch. Giles ignored it for just long enough to knock the knife out the last demon's claws, and run it through.

He turned to face Andrew with the little grey thing still stuck on the knife, dripping thin slime.

Andrew raised his foot off the remains of a demon, still playing his flute, and looked around.

The kitchen was still. Three variously broken demons were in plain sight, and nothing else moved.

Andrew grinned, and stopped playing, then slumped back against the worktop, panting.

“Found it,” he said, breathless but triumphant.

“Yes. Good timing,” Giles told him. He shook the vicious little bundle of claws off the knife he was holding, then went in search of the other blades.

And heard a thin wail from behind the upturned table.

He paused, checked his weapons, and moved cautiously towards the noise.

It sounded like... like something that shouldn't be here at all. A high, hurt noise that humans were wired to not ignore.

Giles, very cautiously, pulled the table out of the way.

And revealed a small, naked, human baby.

“...Andrew? Do you know anything about this?” Giles asked.

Andrew looked shocked, and stepped over quickly, but then his eyes narrowed. “Watcher's first lesson...” he said. He raised the flute and played the Dreegugze taming tune, just the once. But that was enough. Stilled by the magic, the little demon dropped the seeming, and looked like its slimy grey self again.

This was the fourth demon, the one that he'd sent flying. Injured, but not out for the count.

Andrew lowered the flute again, and again the demon took up baby form and started crying.

Andrew looked vaguely sick.

He gripped the flute in both hands by one end, then stabbed down, hard.

The crying stopped.

“I can so see which is real,” Andrew muttered. But he gulped hard, and turned away quickly.

“Andrew!”

Giles and Andrew both turned, to see Una leaning against the wall in the corridor.

“Una! You're okay!” Andrew exclaimed.

But Una shook her head slowly, and as she came forwards they could see she was crying. She dropped to her knees next to the still, crushed form.

“How could you!” She sobbed. She reached out to the little body and picked it up, carefully.

Giles backed away, and found another knife.

“Una?” Andrew asked. “What's wrong... Didn't you see? It wasn't a baby. Just a demon.”

Una looked up at him and hissed. “Just. Just a demon.” She bared her pointed teeth, pulled the dead demon close and got up again. “So speaks the Council Watcher.”

“Una...”

“I thought you were different! You said you'd help!”

“I will! Una, they tried to kill us!”

“You think? And yet, here you stand, barely scratched. They didn't hurt you! Maybe they didn't mean to hurt you! Maybe they were just playing! Did you even stop to think of that?”

“Una, they're invading from a hell dimension! They threw knives at us! We can't afford to think they might be playing. They have their fun, you get dead! Everyone gets dead! We have to stop them.”

“We do.”

“Yes. Watchers and Slayers. That's what we do.”

Una looked down at the little broken demon in her hands. She was still crying. “I don't want to.” She looked up again. “I don't want to do this! I'm not a Slayer! I just wanted to go home!”

“Una, you're a Slayer, you're a real Slayer!” Andrew said, almost panicky, stepping towards her. “You're a hero, and I'm your Watcher, and we're going to save the world!”

“Not like this!” Una shook her head and backed off as he approached. “Not like this!” She turned and fled.

“Una!” Andrew called out, and took off after her.

Giles swore.

He looked around quickly. Red light covered the back door, the window, and another internal door, wherever that led. The house was secure. So he ran after Andrew, a knife in each hand.

He found him on the upstairs landing, pounding on the sealed rooms.

“Una! Una! Where'd you go? How did you... Una! Come back! You are too a Slayer! And I'm a Watcher! You'll see!”

Andrew was actually crying. Giles paused, looked around, then back down the way they'd come. Nothing, no one, no movement. If Una wasn't up here then she had somehow vanished. Giles swore under his breath and wished he had his books with him. Dreegugze had powers, that much was clear, but exactly what were they? If they could be invisible they had a large problem. If they could get out somehow, the whole world had a larger one.

But Andrew was just pacing up and down the corridor, working himself into hysterics.

“It's not fair,” Andrew wailed. “I worked for the Council. I was good at it! First contact. Telling the epic tale of the Slayer of Vampyrs. I can do that! But then they tell me off for 'raising unrealistic expectations'. And Buffy went around telling everybody to ignore me. How am I supposed to do my work if she keeps saying that? She's just mad at me because of the whole Immortal thing, and Spike and Angel, and I only told them what she told me, and how is it my fault if she wasn't telling me everything? And now nobody wants to work with me. Even Una! She was my last hope!”

“Andrew, I know it's hard, but it's hardly our most pressing problem,” Giles replied.

“How can you say that? It's what it's all about! Watchers help Slayers to save the world. How are we supposed to do this without a Slayer?”

“My Father dealt with this exact situation, alone, with no Slayer and no support from the Council. We can do the same,” Giles assured him. Though privately he had to admit that his Father's journal had only mentioned a handful of demons, not the veritable horde that was now pouring in to the portal room.

Andrew didn't seem to hear him, looking away and sobbing, “They all said I couldn't do this. They can't be right, they can't be...”

“We can do this. We are Watchers...”

“Not any more,” Andrew interrupted. “Not ever, not according to the Council.” He looked back at Giles and corrected himself. “I mean, you were. You helped Buffy. Me? I tell everyone I did.” He wiped at his face angrily. “They never believe me. Never. Not about Star Trek, not about Spike coming back, and not about Una. Because I tell stories. I tell lies. Just ask Wyndam-Pryce.”

“What? What has he got to do with any of this?”

“He's the one who fired me!”

Giles stared at Andrew. “You've been fired?” He really must get back to reading his memos.

“Demoted, suspended, fired.” Andrew sniffed. “Wesley said the first lesson a Watcher learns is to separate truth from illusion. If I didn't know how to do that yet then I wasn't even as much of a Watcher as those kids in the Academy. So they sent me back there.” Andrew wiped his face angrily. “But I can't just sit around in school, Giles! I have to be out here, doing good! Helping the Slayer, and helping the world, and... and being a good guy. Giles, I have to be a good guy, now. They don't understand!”

“I'm not sure I do either,” Giles admitted.

“I have to be, because if I'm not... If I'm not a Watcher, if I'm not good enough, then all I am is just... Andrew. Tucker's brother. The guy with the flying monkeys, and the crime spree, and the... the Seal and the knife. If I'm not a Watcher...” Andrew was crying again now, talking through tears, “Then I'm just the guy who killed his best friend.”

Then Andrew broke down completely, sobbing, uncontrollably. Giles made a move towards him, but he spun away, pressed his face into a wall and hid there.

Giles turned, trying to give him some privacy. But he had to keep an eye on the stairs, the corridor, and the door to the portal room. He could still see him.

And they did not have time for this.

“Andrew...” Giles began, but trailed off awkwardly. What could he say? He knew damn well there wasn't anything that could make that better.

But there had to be something to get the boy functional again, at least for long enough.

“Andrew... I'm sorry. I sympathise. But... Right now, we have a larger problem.” Giles turned to look at him more directly again. “These demons... There's already dozens of them in there. And the portal... I rather think it is large enough for even that giant to get through. It's probably only waiting to see if there's any point. We have to do something. Soon.”

Andrew turned, still slumped against the wall, with one arm across his face, his nose pinched in the bend. He sniffed, still crying, but slightly calmer now. “Right. Okay.” He sniffed again. “Alright...” He paused for thought, then asked, “There were three spells, right? We can drop just one, and not the others?”

“Yes. Windows, external doors, internal doors.”

“So, we killed all the demons that got out of the room... We can open the front door. Then you can go and get help.”

Giles looked out the window at the end of the corridor. Through the red tint it was hard to tell, but it might have been getting darker. “Are you sure there's time? Sunset...”

“Won't be a problem.” Andrew wiped his eyes on his sleeve, then dropped his arm. He stared at the opposite wall, not looking at Giles. “You go for help, and I'll stay here, and... Watch.” He gulped, then he blinked, and looked down at the flute. He held it up and waved it. “If they get out I've got this. I've got a better chance here.”

The plan sounded quite reasonable. But Giles had a suspicion. A very bad one.

“Right. You'll watch. And if I'm not back by sunset? We could both die.”

“No.” Andrew shook his head, and looked at Giles. He said, calmly, “Not both.”

“Andrew, no,” Giles replied immediately, but Andrew interrupted.

“You said it yourself. One of us dies, the walls stay up for years.” Andrew became more animated, getting worked up again. “If the spells drain us, same thing, right? Only you'd die too. And this wasn't your fault.”

“There are a lot of other things we could try first.”

“Oh yeah? Name two.”

“Try to close the portal.”

Andrew glanced at the demons in the portal room, currently pushing against the barrier, and looking on with interest. He got closer to Giles and turned to face the other wall, talking quietly. “We'd need the book, right?”

“Yes.” Giles said, doing the same.

“Which is in there, with the demons.”

“Demons you can control.”

Andrew shook his head. “A couple of little ones, maybe, but all those? I'm nearly wiped out already from all the magic. If they got free while you were in there... I don't want you to die! Not because of me.” Andrew was getting louder again.

“Oddly enough I don't want you to die either!”

Andrew shook his head. “I thought I'd die in Sunnydale. I probably should have. Now I've just messed up again. But I can fix this. You've just got to get out of here, and I'll do the rest.”

“Absolutely not! As senior Watcher I am ordering you...”

“You can't, Giles. I'm not a Watcher any more. I'm not allowed to be. But I can die like one.”

“Andrew, Watchers die like everyone else. That is not the hard part. If you truly want to make something of yourself, you have to live like one.”

Andrew started crying again. “I can't! Giles, they won't let me. I've tried, but they don't even see it. They just see that guy.”

“In time, they'll see past that.”

“How could they? It's unforgivable! Giles, just give me the knife and go.” Andrew said, reaching for the blade.

Giles backed off, but Andrew followed and grabbed for the knives. Giles switched both to his left hand and used the other, the one with the keys, to get hold of Andrew. The boy twisted out of the way and he ended up grabbing the claw marked shoulder. He yelped and flinched back, but only for a moment. He was determined to get those knives, and in the confines of the corridor Giles wasn't sure he could keep them out of his reach. So he cast them away, and they fell down the stairs with a clatter.

Andrew tried to lunge past, but Giles grabbed his other shoulder and held him firmly.

“Andrew. Andrew!” Giles yelled at him, to no effect. “Look at me!” Giles commanded.

Andrew just twisted, trying to break his grip, and told him, “No! This is the only way! I won't be that guy any more!”

“Listen to me! You are that man. You killed him, and you will never get away from that.” Andrew froze, then looked away. He pulled against his grip, but Giles pulled him back. “I know. It's been thirty years and I am still that man.”

Andrew's jaw dropped, gaping in shock, and he squeaked, “You...?!”

“Summoned demons for pleasure and gain. Worked dark magic, with friends, who died because of it. One of them at my hands.” Giles kept hold of Andrew, making sure he had his full attention. He went on, “The Council knew of it. My entire career with them came later. After I realised... What a fool I had been. If they can forgive me, they can certainly forgive you.”

Andrew didn't so much relax as unravel. He slumped back, and Giles let him, so he slid against the wall.

“You...?” Andrew couldn't seem to get past that word. “You. You...”

Giles grit his teeth, and tried not to think about it too hard. Surely after all this time it shouldn't feel quite so much like reopening a wound?

“Andrew...” he began, then straightened sharply, staring down the corridor.

Past the window dropped a figure, humanoid and female – Una, dropping from a hole in the ceiling he hadn't noticed before. In her left hand was a baseball bat, over her shoulder his sword, and in her right hand...

Giles held very still, looking at her. And at the business end of a gun.

Una said, “And this... this you trusted?”

Andrew straightened slowly, and did not get in the way.

*** *** ***

Part 4/4 here

Comments

[anne_d]

Good stuff, becca. Andrew's meltdown is very believable, as is Giles' talking him out of it. I'm looking forward to part 4.

I love the Pied Piper of demons bit - that's just neat, and it's nice that there is something Andrew is good at.

I hope you get a good night's sleep, and feel better in the morning.

[beccaelizabeth]

Glad it is believable.

Andrew has skills, he just hasn't been using them for good on screen yet.
Demon control has to be tricky, or the good guys would do it more.


sleep was had, feeling better is probable

thanks :)