last01standing: (Default)
[personal profile] last01standing
Title- The Fallen
Rating- pg-13 (violence)
Characters- Eventually, almost everyone you can think of.
Summary- There's dead people being resurrected, Oz is getting visions, oh, and the world's ending.
Spoilers- General for all of BtVS, and Angel up to 5.8 (Destiny), specific for- (BtVS)Welcome to the Hellmouth, the Harvest, Passions, the Gift, Seeing Red, and Chosen and (Ats) Hero, War Zone, Birthday, Home, and general early season 5 stuff
Disclaimer- Not Joss.

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Two- Not quite dead

Kate curiously watcherd Oz shove his few possessions into an oversized duffle bag. “You travel light.”

He made no comment, just put a couple of stakes and a vial of holy water into the side pouch of the bag.

“How long do you think it’ll take us to get to LA?”

“Coupl’a days,” Oz muttered, “if we just keep driving.”

“You don’t want to stop somewhere to spend the night.”

He remembered the stabbing pains that had come with the images. “No time.” He stole one last look at the tiny apartment he’d been staying at for the last month, the apartment that was now completely empty. It had taken him all of ten minutes to pack. Somehow he’d known that he wouldn’t be there for very long. “We’ll pick up your stuff on the way out of town.”

“Oz! It’s two in the morning.”

“You don’t have to come.”

“Give it a rest.”

“You just met me.”

“I don’t as a rule trust werewolves either. But you know everything happens for a reason.” Kate couldn’t help but recall her last conversation with Angel. “And nothing you can say will change my mind."

Oz studied her intently before gracing her with a smile. “Let’s go then.”


The sun was burning his pale skin, but he’d never felt so cold. Looking around at the ruins of his old town, he saw absolutely nothing he recognized. Vague bits of memory kept flashing through his jumbled mind. Xander, Willow, a new girl… teeth… vampires…

“Take it easy and go through the facts,” he mumbled aloud. “Your name is Jesse McNally, your best friend is Xander Harris.” He was wondering aimlessly though the wreckage. “It looks like someone nuked the town and you’re all alone.” He stopped and shook himself. “It’s 1997.”

“No it’s not,”a voice answered. “it’s at least ’98. Where’s Giles when you need him?”

He wheeled around, feeling inexplicably paranoid and glared at the women, who was about fifteen years older than him. She carried herself like a teacher. “Who are you?”

“Jenny Calendar.” She studied him with a unnerving probing gaze.

“Are we the only ones left?” Jesse asked distantly. “It feels like the end of the world.”

“I was pretty sure I was dead,” Ms. Calendar recalled. “I remember my neck snapping.”

Jesse finally latched onto a stray thread of memory, shivering slightly. “I remember tasting blood.”

“Well, we’re not vampires,” Ms. Calendar said, only half listening, “it’s too sunny.”

Jesse remembered vampires as well. “They said I was bait.”

“You’re not making me feel safer.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Jesse said quickly. “I never liked this town anyway. It gave me the wiggins.”

“I second that.”

The unlikely pair exchanged an uncertain glance before beginning to pick their way to the nearest edge of the crater.


He coughed explosively, spitting out a mixture of blood and rank seawater. Struggling to stay conscious, he looked around, surprised that there was nobody there. Why hadn’t Angel and Cordy waited for him? Where was the ship? And the Scourge? He coughed again and then began swimming towards the shore, his clothes dragging in the water and slowing his movement. When he reached it, he collected himself and pulled himself up to a standing position, wobbling slightly on his feet.

Resolutely, Alan Francis Doyle began walking in the direction of Angel Investigations.


“What do you mean Cordelia’s gone,” Angel choked into to the phone. “Where?”

“Mrs. Chase disappeared from her hospital bed about forty minutes ago, Mr. Angel,” the nurse’s voice came back. “We don’t know where she is.”

He didn’t know if it was something about her tone, the place just starting to get to him or the fact that everybody seemed to insist on calling him ‘Mr. Angel’, but he snapped. “You have to have some idea! Was there a note? Was she kidnapped? Did she get up and walk out of there on her own?”

“Mr. Angel…”

“People don’t just disappear!” He exploded to the hapless woman, but he knew he was lying all the same. In his mind he saw Darla exploding into a cloud of dust, saw himself sucked backwards into a portal, saw Doyle disappearing in a flash of bright white light. And now Cordy…

But he also had to remind himself that Fred herself had disappeared, and they’d found her.

He hung up the phone, only vaguely aware that the nurse had still been blabbering. He touched the intercom and said, “Harmony. I need you to get everyone up here. Now. It’s important.”

“You got it boss.”

Ten minutes later they were all there. And he looked at them feeling something akin to loss. There was Gunn who Angel didn’t really know anymore, Fred who still saw him as some sort of a hero, a knight in shining armor, Wesley who had never trusted him, Spike who he hated, and Lorne who had the bad habit of being a little too perceptive.

He remembered when he’d had friends and not just co-workers.

Gunn cleared his throat, “Can we do this already. I’ve got a ten O’clock mee…”

“Cordy’s gone,” Angel said abruptly and everyone went silent. “She disappeared from her hospital room about an hour ago.” They were all watching him, waiting for an order. “We’re going to find her. Use all your resources, break all the rules, I don’t care. We’re going to find her.”

He looked at the office he hated and the people he couldn’t quite consider his friends and felt a pang of loneliness. “We have to find her.”


For Cordelia, everything rewound. First she was ascending… and then she was falling back. Time had started up again and she was suddenly standing on the shoulder of the highway, wearing clothes completely different from what she had on twenty seconds ago. Even her hair was a different style, different color.
And she was late for her meeting with Angel, but all of a sudden, that seemed way down on her list of priorities. She walked down to the beach and started off towards the lights of the city.


Anya stumbled over some fallen power wires as she unconsciously made her way though the ruins of the town towards where Buffy’s house used to be. That’s where the others would be if someone besides her had made it. That’s where Xander would be. He’d wait for her. Andrew would probably be there too.

The entire right side of her was throbbing. She didn’t quite know why. A scar she didn’t remember getting marred her shoulder. “Stupid super-vamps,” she muttered.

She rounded the street corner, habit forcing her to walk where the sidewalk had used to be. She spotted a figure crouching down on the lawn. Briefly sighed thinking it was her and one of the irritating potential fodder who had survived when in all honesty, it should have been Buffy and Willow and Giles and Xander who’d gotten out.

But then the figure came into focus.


She looked up. “Where’s Willow?”

“Tara. You’re looking very alive.”

Eyes flashed in the waning sun. “I’m not supposed to be here,” she said almost inaudibly.

“You should be happy not to be dead,” Anya said shakily, “because everyone else might be.”

Anya could almost see the magic rising in Tara, as she looked around with something akin to grief. She remembered a similar aura around Willow when she had the black eyes. It scared her. “You’re not allowed to go evil.”

Tara looked up, eyes glistening with tears and all at once, the power collapsed and she fell to her knees. “She promised that was it! She said she was done with it. Things were going to be so good.”

Anya blinked and called up the image of Xander’s clumsy proposal in the basement of the magic shop and smiled fondly.

“I’m not supposed to be here.”

“You know I’ve been around for a long time. And,” Anya patted Tara on the shoulder, “generally speaking, you almost always are where you’re supposed to be.”


“You’re not supposed to be here,” Rondell said, standing up in a fury. “You’re dead.”

Alonna frowned in confusion. “What are you talking about?” She was vaguely aware of the others forming a circle around her, sensing hostility.

“Girl, you’re dead. Gunn had to stake you.” He fumbled in his pocket and came up with a cross. He held it out in front of him, the cross shook wildly.

“Rondell? Is that you? When’d you get that scar?”


“Where’s Gunn?”

“He’s not here!” Rondell shouted. “And you know what, I don’t think you are either.”

“I just want to see my brother,” Alonna said, suddenly close to tears. She reached up and grabbed the cross. “I swear it’s really me here.”

Rondell’s resolve was starting to crumble, but he kept his gaze steady. “Get out.”


Willow felt something shift, the world, in a instant had changed. She jerked upright in her bed and looked around, for a second she wasn’t quite sure where she was. Slowly it came back to her. She was in Brazil. She had come here with Kennedy. They’d split about a month ago…

The phone by her table rang and she reached over to pick it up, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. “Hello?”


“Kennedy? Why are you calling me?”

“It’s gone.”

“What’s gone.”

“All the slayer power.” Even on the phone, Willow could hear tears in her voice. “I just woke up and nothing was there. I couldn’t even open a jar of jelly this morning.”

Willow remembered the power shift. “Things were getting out of balance.”

“Did they have to out of balance me?”

Willow closed her eyes, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “Kennedy, call Giles about it.” She was aware of a new presence. “I’ve got to go.”

She hung up despite Kennedy’s protest and closed her eyes, looking for the source of the change.

She felt Tara instead.



“Giles? It’s Oz.”

“Oz? Dear lord. We’ve wondered where you’ve been. I’ve heard that you’ve been marked as a threat by a demon of considerable power…”

“I know. Someone’s already tipped me off.”

“Really? Where are you. You’re welcome to come here if you need a safe place to stay.”

“You’re in England.”

“Yes. I know. But…”

“Look Giles, I left New York about two days ago. I’m heading to LA.” Oz's normally measured tones had a slightly frantic edge and Giles could barely make out a female voice in the background. “Something’s starting. It would be good to have back up.”


“Oh and you’ll want to tip off Tara about this. She might be in trouble.”

“Tara’s dead.”

There was silence from Oz’s end of the phone and then, “Is Willow OK?”

“It happened more than a year ago. She’s better.”

“Look I’m almost out of time. Got a long way to drive,” He paused. “Could you try and get to LA. Maybe round up the scoobies? Check the books?”

“Of course.” Giles glanced around his flat. “Is it really going to be bad as all that?”

“You have no idea.” Oz paused and didn’t say anything for a long time. Giles could hear his erratic breathing. “I’ve got to go. I’ll keep in touch.”


Darkness fell on the ruins of Sunnydale and the Master emerged from his small shelter, smiling through distorted features. “This promises to be interesting.”


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29/4/06 00:13 (UTC)
Posted by [identity profile]
This story's actually finished, I just keep forgetting to put the rest of it up... I think i'll do that nowish...