The Scope is Fractured
Written for a prompt challenge on the LJ The Buffy & Sarah Connor Chronicles Crossover Community
PROMPT(S): Eyes, Mistake, Lost, You & Me, Pulse
DISCLAIMER: This story is intended for entertainment purposes only and provides absolutely no financial compensation. Recognizable characters belong to their prospective owners/writers. Some lines from the show are used either as is or altered to fit the story.
In plain speak: I don’t own anything, just my imagination.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you to Ava
for her thoughts and encouragement and MusesInspiration
who always has my back. Darker than I usually write, characters are gonna die, people.1) Eyes
It was supposed to be a low level training sweep. Low level in the danger department. The area they were assigned had a few sightings of the supernatural element and so it was agreed that the two newbie Watchers, Andrew and Jacob would escort two seasoned Slayers, Kennedy and Caridad along with one of the younger Slayers, Courtney.
It was supposed
to be a quick sweep and then pizza and ice cream by eleven o’clock because Courtney had classes in the morning.
It was Caridad’s sharp eyes that spotted the scruffy man running pell-mell down the dark alley. The creature following him with unwavering purpose was human in appearance, but the three Slayers agreed that something about it set their teeth on edge. It hit like a Mack truck on steroids. Courtney never had a chance, her little body breaking against the brick wall she was thrown into. Andrew and Jacob had attempted a binding spell, but the magic slid off its form with no effect and there was no time to run; their fragile bodies falling quickly to the brutality of the creature despite the remaining Slayers’ attempts to protect them.
Caridad fell next, her head a bloody ruin and Kennedy raged after the creature, her movements a blur as she wielded the scythe. None of the body blows seemed to have any effect, despite the chunks of flesh the scythe carved from its body. Kennedy felt her strength waning and put an extra measure of power into another blow, this time aimed at the creature’s head. As it connected, a sound rent the air, the tone similar to a church bell and the creature fell, the skin flayed from its head revealing shiny metal underneath. She staggered, the adrenaline ebbing now that her fight was over and the scruffy man emerged from the small space behind the dumpster and approached her warily.
Kennedy watched him with droopy eyes and noticed he kept shifting his frightened gaze back to the supine creature. “Don’t worry, it’s dead.” She coughed wetly, grimacing at the taste of copper in the back of her throat.
The man shook his head. “No it’s not. I don’t know how you did it, but all you did was knock it offline.” His voice shook as he held out a hand to her. “We need to get out of here.”
She was losing blood at a rapid rate and when she met his eyes, they both knew there was no time left for help. With shaky hands Kennedy reached into her pocket and pulled out the card she kept there for emergencies. Her brain was screaming against what she was about to do, but it was a compulsion she couldn’t ignore. She handed the scythe and the card to him. “Take this, to this address. Tell them what happened, where they can find us.” She fell to her knees, the pain of the impact barely registering as she began to lose feeling in her extremities. The edgy feeling that had dissipated after the creature went down was starting to reappear. “I think it’s waking up. Run.”
The man jumped at her urgent tone and took off running, the scythe and card clutched in his hand.
Something whispered through her head and Kennedy listened, pulling in the reserves of her waning strength and stumbled about, removing what little ID the others had carried with them. Beyond caring the why of it, she followed the compulsion and hid the ID’s beneath the dumpster, collapsing just before the creature sat up.
Moonlight reflected off the gleaming metal exposed on its head and Kennedy winced against the painful glare.
The last thing she saw was the red light shining from its damaged eye.
James ran. Running was a way of life; the only way to stay alive. He’d made so many mistakes since their transport through time. He hadn’t realized the machine had seen him following Barbara Chamberlain until he was almost back at the squat. Unthinking, he ran, alerting the Terminator and now he was responsible for the deaths of five innocent people. James looked at the address on the card. The pretty dark haired woman had lasted longer against the Triple Eight with her strange looking axe than any of their battle hardened soldiers had, even armed with their heaviest ammo. He refused to think about the little red headed girl and the sound her body made as it hit the wall.
He scanned the card again. The address was vaguely familiar. A hotel if he remembered correctly. The rear entrance was locked, forcing James to attempt to enter through the front doors. There were several people milling around the lobby and all eyes turned to him. James resisted his natural instinct to flee. Those people were killed trying to save him and he would do the right thing. A red haired woman approached him and he flinched at the look in her eyes. He handed the axe to her and she accepted it, neither speaking during the exchange. She reached for him and James knew he should run, but he was exhausted and she was faster and then he couldn’t move. Her palm was hot against his forehead and her skin had an earthy undertone that filled his nostrils as she invaded his mind.
And it was an invasion. This woman, the name Willow echoed through his thoughts; somehow shuffled through his memories like a thief. Riffling through his mind and forcing him to watch as she viewed his memories. Vague memories surfaced of stories told to him by his grandfather about demons and vampires and witches. He felt air movement against his exposed skin and he caught a glimpse of her ink filled eyes and red hair that was now streaked with black and white. It was the last thing he saw before his knees buckled and he lost consciousness.
He woke suddenly, flailing upright as the sunlight penetrated his closed lids. Feeling eyes on him, James stilled. Knowing that he’d already be dead if the machine had found him here, he opened his eyes cautiously. The woman, Willow, was sitting in a chair beside the bed, watching him with solemn green eyes. He broke eye contact to scan the room and assumed from the generic décor that he was in one of the rooms of the hotel. The bed was the best thing he’d ever slept in. That he could remember anyway.
When his gaze returned to Willow, he flinched at the sight of tears dripping off her chin.3) Lost
“Please, tell me it’s not true.”
Her voice wavered and James had never felt so lost. He had very little experience with women and comforting a grieving woman hadn’t been part of his resistance training.
She held up the axe and James actually looked at it this time. It had been in his possession for several hours, but his flight through the city hadn’t lent an opportunity to inspect the weapon the dark haired woman had used with such brutal efficiency. There was a huge dent in the blade. The damage was just about the size of the curve of the T-888’s head and James wondered what it could possibly be made of to be able to knock out a machine.
“This has to be some sort of mistake. Your memories don’t make sense. How could a piece of metal damage the Scythe to this extent?” She stood and paced the room, growing increasingly agitated with each pass.
James wondered if she really wanted him to answer her. She had a particular look on her face that he remembered seeing on John Connor’s when he would be working on a difficult problem out loud. John didn’t like to be interrupted and so James kept silent, waiting for some kind of direction. He wondered if the others had given up on him or if they were look…
Willow sat on the edge of the bed, near his feet and James flinched away from her. His headache was gone, but he didn’t want to risk another blackout if she decided to dig around in his brain again. The machines couldn’t do that yet, that he knew of. Of course, if they could then the resistance would be wiped out in a very short time.
**4) You and Me
It took them so long to find the main compound. Even with the help of magical searches, it took nearly four years to find out where the Turk had been spirited off to. Where it was being upgraded and improved and integrated into everything. They didn’t tell the Connors. John was too important to risk.
It was almost Judgment Day.
With Willow’s cloaking spell in place, the team infiltrated the compound with ease. Faith took point with Dawn close behind. Willow and Buffy had argued for days over sending Dawn instead of Willow. But Faith stepped in and for once was the voice of reason. Willow couldn’t be the computer person and magic person.
The compound was massive and mostly underground. Xander made a reference to the Umbrella Corporation and Faith stopped him with a look.
“We get out of here in one piece; Mila will be the last thing on your mind studly.”
“You and me? It’s a date, especially if you wear the dress.”
Dawn made a gagging noise in the back of her throat. “Uh, guys, just because we finally convinced Buffy that I’m not a child anymore, doesn’t mean I want to witness the mating rituals of Faith and Xander… Ever.”
Faith winked at Xander and the smile slid from her face as if it had never been there. “Clock’s tickin’, let’s go, Witchie-Poo Too.”
“You know I hate that knickname.”
“Yeah, but you love me so that cancels out the aggravation.”
Faith looked over Dawn’s shoulder as the younger woman hacked her way through the system. She couldn’t load the virus until she was deep inside, at the very core of the programming. Xander turned to check on them and saw Faith stiffen just before she whirled around, horror crossing her face just before her skin took on a red sheen. There was a heavy feeling in his chest and then his knees gave out, sending him to the floor.
He saw the same color flower across Faith’s chest in four blossoms and she fell to the side, revealing Dawn’s hunched figure. Her fingers flew over the keyboard despite the trembling that visibly shook her body. He didn’t hear the shots, but when Dawn slumped over the table Xander sent up a mental prayer that she’d been able to finish. Blood dripped from her slack mouth into the keyboard and a greenish glowing cloud escaped on her last breath. He watched as it hovered over her body. It began to pulse, the green color swirling and morphing. The swirling cloud drifted toward the monitor and a moment before sinking into the screen, the green was consumed by an angry red. His cell phone vibrated their preset signal to leave the compound. The monitor pulsed in time with his fading heartbeat.
The digital clock on the wall flipped to midnight.
It was April 21st.