Shaddyr's Eclectic Collection > Pretender Fanfiction > Buffy Fanfiction > Shaddyr > Convergence
Convergence
part 7
by Shaddyr
Jab, kick, stake… breath and repeat. Despite the emotional discomfort that came along with being in Spike's presence lately, Buffy was beginning to regret taking off on her own tonight. There were vampires *everywhere*!
Panting slightly with exertion, she scanned the area around her. Incoming, far right. Three more, freshly risen from the looks of them. She shook her head. There hadn't been a sudden increase in unexplained deaths, so she was at a loss to explain where all the fledglings were coming from. At the moment, explaining was the least of her worries. She pulled out a stake as the trio drew closer.
"Okay, who's up first?" All three rushed her at once. "Hey!" she exclaimed, staking one while skillfully twisting to avoid the others. "No need for that, I promise you'll all get your turn." Sweep, spin, lunge, stake. She turned to the remaining vampire. "See? I didn't forget about you." The demon backed away, the spun around and ran. A second later he was dust on the evening breeze as Buffy's stake slammed through his back to pierce his heart.
"Damn," she muttered. "I lose more stakes that way." After a final glance around she decided to head off for the next cemetery.
Buffy debated the wisdom of moving on to what had become Sunnydale's worst vamp hotspot by herself. Last night she'd had most the Scoobies with her, and between them all, they'd dusted over a dozen vampires. She figured being right across the street from the Hellmouth had a lot to do with it.
She considered that maybe she should go back and find Spike first. But if she did that, he'd want to talk more. About feelings.
Trying to force her traitorous heart to be silent, she set off for the next leg of her sweep - alone.
Over a cup of perfectly brewed Darjeeling, Jarod pondered. He was close, he knew it. He could feel the answer dancing just out of his reach, maddeningly close, little wisps of the solution taunting him. It was right in front of him, he had the feeling he was staring right at it and not seeing it.
He'd gone over the entire prophecy, start to finish. When translated directly, it read like a real-time commentary. It was happening *now*. The Centre was rising *now*, the Hellmouth was open *now*, the world was ending *now*.
He put the cup down and pursed his lips. He hadn't tried to run a sim. He didn't have any information to anchor it with, anything personal to use as a starting point. He'd read about and was fairly familiar with the Sumerian culture, but to sim a person usually required at least some knowledge of what their mindset was, what their goals were. He sighed, and earned a curious glance from Giles.
"Still at an impasse?" the Watcher asked.
Jarod nodded. "I'm going to try running a simulation. I don't know that it will offer any insight, but it's worth attempting." He leaned his head back, forward, then rolled it, trying to work out the kinks in his neck. "Usually, it's pretty quiet, and I stay I one place, but I might talk or move around. But - if I'm unresponsive for a more than half an hour, I might have gone in too deep." He grinned sheepishly. "At the Centre, I had Syd to keep me focused, bring me out of a sim. When I'm alone, if I go in too deep, I get lost for hours and end up falling asleep and dreaming about whatever I was trying to sim. So, if I get lost, just tap on my hand with one finger. That should be enough to bring me up."
Willow looked at him with concern. "Is it dangerous? Can you, you know, get really lost and not find your way back?"
"No, nothing like that." He smiled at her reassuringly. "Think of it as a really intense game of let's pretend. You know a little about whom you are pretending to be. Things they've done, a bit about their personality. Simming is getting into their heads, becoming them, and figuring out what they've done. Or why. Or what they are going to do."
"So this is why you don't know if it will help?" Tara asked, beginning to understand the little bit Willow had told her about the new addition to the Scoobie team. "Because you don't know anything about the person w-who wrote the prophecy?"
"Yes," he agreed with a nod. "The prophecy itself is all I have to go on. So, I'm not expecting any earth shattering revelations."
"Do you need anything?" Giles inquired.
"No, I'm fine. You should all continue with what your doing. I just have to focus myself for a moment and then I'll slip into the sim."
Jarod turned his attention inward. His breathing slowed and deepened as the sim began. The words of the prophecy percolated through his mind as he tried to become one with a prophet from an earlier age.
*It is come to pass*
He heard the whisper in his mind, echoed it with his mouth.
*It is come to pass*
Again he echoed the phrase, not understanding. It was the same as the prophecy, present tense. He pressed in, struggling to comprehend what the significance was. Without warning, an incredible pain shot through his head, much akin to having a vice clamp down around his temples, and he found himself forcibly inserted into another's mind.
He was a scribe in a stone temple, scribbling furiously by torchlight, words roiling through his mind. A feeling of purpose infused him, the same feeling he'd had when he'd simmed Buffy. Something greater than himself was leading him to write. The Convergence was happening right now, even as he wrote. It was time when it would be, and they who were the Chosen would understand and would set all things in motion. The would be was. He felt his mind begin to splinter under the weight of the knowing.
And as though falling from a great height, Jarod suddenly found himself slammed back into his own body, gasping for breath and shaking with shock and pain. He doubled over and fell on the floor as he clutched his head. The voice spoke once more.
*What Will Be Is!*
The first thing Jarod realized was that his head really hurt. That led to the second realization; he must have passed out. It was the only reason he could come up with for being flat on the floor with three concerned faces staring down at him.
"Are you alright?" Willow asked while Giles helped him off the floor and back into his chair. He grunted as pain lanced through his head.
"Depends on your definition," he rejoined with a wince. "Still alive." He shook his head, the regretted the action. "That was not like any sim I've ever done. I don't know *what* that was."
Tara's concern was evident. "What happened?"
Jarod explained the voice, the pain, the out-of-body experience. Giles nodded slowly. "No, I must concur with you. It was most certainly not a sim. It was a vision."
"Like Cordelia?" Willow asked.
"I believe so." The Watcher's face grew very serious. "Jarod, you repeated the phrase 'It is come to pass' several times, and then, just before you collapsed, you shouted 'What will be is!'. I believe that the Powers were trying to give you a message. Were they telling you that the Convergence is about to occur?"
"I think it's more than that, Giles. When I was that scribe, I knew the Convergence was happening as I wrote it - and I knew it would happen as soon as I understood. I think it was the very act of understanding that set it in motion."
"Dear Lord!" The Englishman sat down heavily. "We don't even know where this is to take place yet."
"W-we have to do the ceremony r-right now then." Tara spoke up. "So we're prepared."
"But Buffy's out patrolling!" Willow's face was etched with worry. "She could be walking into this alone, unprepared - we have to find her!"
Jarod stood up, swaying for a moment before he found his footing. "Are you going to be okay?" Concern was evident in Tara's voice.
He smiled grimly. "If we don't do this thing, I don't think it's going to matter."
The four of them gathered up the supplies and books they would need as well as a few stakes for good measure, then headed out to search for the Slayer.
Spike grabbed the vampire in front of him by the head and gave a brutal twist. He dropped the twitching demon in a heap and started in on the next one, morphing into full game face as he bit into his new opponent's neck. It took mere moments to drain the new vampire, and seconds later he had a mouth full of dust. He spit, then turned and staked the one he'd immobilized earlier before settling into fighting stance to check for more attackers.
A flash of colour at the edge of the cemetery caught his attention. He squinted a bit, trying to identify it. A moment later, he saw a blond figure among the gravestones. Buffy. He sighed. He'd hoped to be done and gone before she showed up. He saw her tense as she caught sight of him. He sat up on a headstone and waited.
She stopped in front of him. "Any action here tonight?"
He could see the dare in her eyes. Just make something lewd of it so I can pummel you they seemed to say. He was half tempted to, just because he knew it would make her feel better. But there were more important things going on right now then coddling Buffy. And, he had to admit if only to himself, letting her stew in it by ignoring the double entendre was eminently satisfying. It was amazing how much evil satisfaction one was able to derive from doing the right thing.
"Yeh, a half dozen newly risen. A couple I've seen around before. And a Faral demon." He gestured to the left and she glanced over to see the carcass of the demon.
"We haven't seen one of those in a while." She wrinkled her nose. "Feh. I hate burial detail. I wish they would just dust like good little demons. Or melt. Or turn into ooze. Something."
He snorted. "I'm sure that's right at the top of their list of priorities, luv. 'Upon death, evaporate so's the Slayer doesn't have to clean up after you'."
She rolled her eyes at him before turning away to scanning the area. She was feeling uneasy, and it was bigger than the anxiety she normally had around Spike. There was something twigging her Slayer senses. She felt a sudden chill and wrapped her arms around her middle as she shivered.
Spike suddenly sat ramrod straight, eyes wide. "Pet,"
Buffy was busy trying to get a handle on what her sense were telling her. "Not now, Spike," she hissed, trying to focus.
He hopped off the stone to come and stand beside her. "Buffy." His tone made her look, and she found his gaze traveling the graveyard, searching, just as she had been. "Something's wrong here, pet. Something is very, very wrong here."
She nodded. The two of them moved in unison through the cemetery. There was something beckoning their otherworldly senses, drawing them toward it. They followed the silent summons cautiously. As they neared the street, Spike heard Buffy's sharp intake of breath. He'd been watching their backs, but now turned to see what it was that startled her. He stopped and stood in shock.
The ruins of the old high school, under which the Hellmouth resided, were enveloped in a hazy green latticework. It fairly crackled with energy, and he could feel the evil oozing off it from across the street like a palpable thing. Spike, William the Bloody, the demon who'd cut a swath of destruction across Europe at the side of Angelus, wanted nothing to do with this. He hadn't been this scared since the night on the tower when he thought the Niblet was going to die.
"This is very bad."
"Bloody, buggering hell."
They'd caught up with her after a few blocks, but that had just been the beginning of their troubles. Broots and Sydney followed the brunette in the maroon silk pajamas who walked quickly through the quiet residential streets of Sunnydale because there was nothing else they could do.
Broots had tried to stop her. He now sported a lovely assortment of scrapes and contusions as a reward for his efforts. Sydney had tried to talk to her, but either she wasn't listening or couldn't hear them - they weren't sure which.
"Syd." Broots was wracking his brain for feasible ideas. "There's got to be something we can do. Call an ambulance? Maybe it's some weird form of sleep walking."
The psychiatrist shook his head. "I think we should just let her follow the path she's on."
The tech gave him a look. "Path? What path? She's not even awake as far as I can tell!"
"I believe she is being guided by her Inner Sense. There is something important she needs to do here, Broots, I'm certain. There have been too many unusual circumstances that have conspired to bring us to this place for it to be coincidence. And I believe that whatever it is involves Jarod, and that he is just as much a part of it as she is."
"I thought you were a 'man of science' type. No mumbo jumbo, hocus-pocus. You only buy into what you can see, hear, feel and touch."
Sydney gave the younger man a small smile. "I have seen far too many things in my life to discount the supernatural entirely. I would never look to it for the answer first, or even often, but there are times when it provides the only answer possible."
Parker caught them unawares by turning suddenly to take a trail up a hill into a park like area. They scrambled after her. As they crested the top of the rise, Broots balked.
"Oh, no. Tell me it isn't so." The balding man shook his head in despair.
"I'm afraid it is."
With a deep sigh of resignation, Broots followed Sydney as he followed Parker into the cemetery.
"We better not have to dig anybody up," he grumbled under his breath.
"There's something really, really bad happening." Willow's voice was shaky and her face had gone pale.
The four of them were following the little 'tinker bell' light that Tara had conjured to lead them to Buffy. The farther they went, though, the more agitated the 2 women had become.
Tara nodded, sweat beading on her brow. "There's dark magic at work here. It's hard to even think."
They came to the entrance of the Sunnydale City Cemetery. The tinker bell continued to flit forward, leading them down the rows. Giles readied a stake just in case.
Jarod's tension had been building since he first saw Tara whisper an incantation and produce a fairy light out of nothingness. At first he thought it was just the stress of finding Buffy, doing what needed to be done, getting there in time - he was gradually coming to realize that, just like the Wicca's, the closer they got to where ever they were heading, the more disquiet he felt. On a very basic level, it was like the very cells of his body were aware that something was not right and were fighting against it. It left him feeling distracted and unfocused. So when a vampire appeared from the shadows of a nearby crypt, he didn't sense a thing until an inhumanly strong arm wrapped around him from behind and a hand was yanking his head over to the side. He struggled in vain, thrashing and crying out as the demon's fangs sank into his neck.
Just as sudden as it had begun, it was over, and Jarod was falling to his hands and knees on the grass in a cloud of dust. He coughed and lifted a hand to his injured neck. Looking up, he found Giles crouching beside him. "You really must remain alert," he said as he helped the Pretender to his feet. "The unwary don't last long in Sunnydale."
He shook his head. "I can't seem to focus. But I feel drawn." He indicated the way the light had gone. "That way."
"We feel it too," Tara told Giles. The four of them pulled into a close knot and started off once more. It wasn't long till the found the object of their search approaching them along with Spike.
"Buffy!" Willow called out as she ran toward her best friend. "It's begun!"
"We know. We were just headed back to tell you."
"You know?"
Spike spoke up. "There's some right wicked mojo surrounding the Hellmouth, Red. Thought it was about time you worked yours."
"Here?"
"Does it really matter where?"
Giles frowned. "We haven't got time to go running back to the Magic Box."
Willow put on her resolve face. "Then we better get started."
Tara looked over at Buffy. "Should we get closer to the Hellmouth?"
Buffy shuddered. "No, this is plenty close, thanks. We had a front row seat to the lightshow around the school already. It's too mesmerizing to get anything done. You'll have to battle the urge to give in. I think it's better to have a little distance."
Giles assisted Willow and Tara in selecting and appropriate spot, and then the three of them set up the items they would need for the ritual.
Buffy turned to Jarod, eyes widening slightly as she took in the blood soaking the front of his shirt. "You're hurt."
Spike cocked an eyebrow at the Pretender. "I though I told you if you weren't careful you were going to end up with a vampire wrapped around your neck," he admonished. "Didn't believe me? Had take a midnight stroll through the graveyard to see if the undead thought you were a tasty treat?"
"Oh yeah, I'm sure he just stuck his neck out at hung a sign saying 'Bite me, please!' " Buffy tossed a sarcastic volley at Spike as she checked Jarod's wound.
"I was caught off guard," he admitted. "I'm finding it very difficult to focus at the moment. The farther we moved through the cemetery, the worse it got." He lifted a hand to his temple, rubbing it lightly, and closed his eyes. "If I could just concentrate…"
Willow's voice interrupted. "We're ready."
He opened his eyes and looked at Buffy. She squared her shoulders and gave him a nod. "I say we get this party started."
He gave her a smile and motioned towards the others. "After you."
Giles had them sit cross-legged on the grass, back to back in the protective circle in the center of the pentagram. Tara was lighting the candles while Willow began chanting in Latin.
Spike paced nervously back and forth a few times before stopping beside Giles. "What's gonna happen, Watcher? This is safe, innit? I mean, nothing can happen to Buffy 'coz of this spell, right? You checked it all over, made sure the witches knew what they were doing?"
Giles drew a deep breath and it a second before exhaling. "Spike. They know what they are doing. Now sit down. Or stand up. Or go away. I don't really care, just be quiet."
Spike started pacing again. "You don't understand, Rupes," he continued. "I can't lose her again, I just can't." He stopped and stared at the 2 figures that were now partially obscured by a swirling haze. "Bloody hell, is that supposed to happen?"
"Spike, *do* be silent!"
The vampire grumbled quietly, but did as requested. He leaned back against a nearby grave marker and watched the proceedings intently. All his senses were on full alert however, and he soon became aware of someone approaching. He turned to face the intruder, ready to slay whatever vampires, demons or other creatures needed slaying. He was not prepared for the site of the leggy brunette in pajamas being followed by two unidentified men.
"Rupes, we've got company."