lady_yashka (lady_yashka) wrote,
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Seasons of Wither: Chapter Eight

Title: Seasons of Wither
Author(s): lady_yashka
Artist: lightthesparks
Crossover: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Disclaimer: I do not own either Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Supernatural.
Type: Het
Word Count: 19,565
Characters/Pairings: Buffy/Michael, Dean, Sam, Castiel, Bobby, Gabriel, Zachariah, Lucifer, Willow, Dawn, Faith, Xander, and Giles
Warnings: Character death
Spoilers: Spoilers through My Bloody Valentine. Some dialogue from various episodes is also used.
Summary:The war is over, and with the help of the slayers, the world is safe once more. Now, three months later the man Buffy only knew as the archangel Michael, is waking up.
Author’s Notes:First off I'd like to thank both moragmacpherson and aj_hofacre for all their help. Any mistakes left are all mine. I'd also like to thank lightthesparks for her wonderful artwork. And finally, I'd like to thank the mods of sncross_bigbang for hosting this challenge.



The demons swarmed, surging against the small group of slayers. Buffy swung her scythe, killing the gooier demons, and trying to knock out the black-eyed ones. A scream off to her right let her know another slayer had fallen and she felt her heart shatter. Buffy didn’t slow her moves, didn’t let the ache show in her face, she just fought that much harder, hoping to minimize the number of condolence calls she would be making.

Thunder crashed overhead and lightning darted back and forth across the sky. The old barn burning behind them added its own hellish glow to the fight as the scent of burning hay and rotting wood filled the air. The demon before her wore the guise of a twelve year old girl, the pink dress it wore splattered with mud and gore. Buffy swung her scythe at the demon’s head, snarling furiously when it ducked and her swing missed. Her foot slipped in the muddy terrain and she went down hard, her breath exploding inside her. The demon stood over her, smiling an innocent smile, eyes the color of pitch.

Thunder growled again, and lightning so bright it nearly burnt her sight flashed. Buffy closed her eyes as the sound of demons shrieking in pain echoed around her. When silence descended, her ears ringing in the aftermath, Buffy opened her eyes to see a man standing in the middle of the field. He was shorter than Michael and he was watching her with a smirk on his face and anger in his eyes. His brown hair and clothes were spotless despite the mess around him, and he was eating a candy bar of all things.

As she slowly stood up, she scanned the battlefield, seeing only her slayers standing. All that was left of the demons were smoking black scars on the ground. Buffy felt her stomach try to climb up and out of her mouth, and she spun back around to face the man in horror.

“What did you... Oh, God. You killed them all.” Her horror slowly faded and suddenly she was overcome with blinding rage. “You killed them! There were still people in there, and you slaughtered them all!” Buffy screamed, bring the scythe up. The man before her smirked and tossed the candy bar wrapper onto the ground.

“So?” His voice was smug – cruel, almost – and Buffy swung the scythe, her full slayer strength behind the blow. His hand shot out, stopping her downward swing and causing her arms to buckle under the pressure. Gasping, she jerked back and let go of the scythe. The man swung it around in one hand, smirk still present. “You hero types are so predictable.”

“Whatever you are,” Buffy growled, taking a few steps towards the being. “I will kill you.”

“Oh!” he taunted his grin widening as he laughed. “I’m so scared!”

Another flash of light heralded Michael’s entrance. The man’s eyes darted towards the new arrival, and narrowed. Buffy could feel the tension rising, and knew that if the man could have killed Michael with a look, the archangel would have been a smoldering pile just like the demons.

“Hey, bro,” he greeted, voice filled with sarcasm. “Nice threads you’ve got. Looks good on ya.”

“Gabriel,” Michael spoke softly, taking a few steps towards the other angel. “It’s been awhile.”

“Wait.” Buffy shook her head, stepping between the two. “You’re Gabriel. The archangel Gabriel.”

Gabriel nodded, and shrugged. He stuck his hand in his pocket and swung the scythe back and forth as a child would a stuffed toy. “Uh. Yeah.”

“You just killed all these people!”

“I thought we already had this conversation,” Gabriel replied, eyes filled with amusement. “Please don’t tell me you’re as dumb as you look.”

“Gabriel,” Michael intoned. His voice was low and commanding and filled with something that seemed to catch Gabriel by surprise. The smirk dropped from Gabriel’s face.

“Don’t take that tone with me, Michael,” Gabriel growled. “I’m not the one taking things that don’t belong to me.”

“He gave me his consent as you knew he would,” Michael countered, and Buffy cast a confused glance Michael’s way.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “And what did you promise in return huh? Safety for his little brother, or did you use tactics Zachariah would approve of?”

“I did what needed to be done,” Michael answered voice steady and head held high. Gabriel let loose a disgusted snort and tossed the scythe down into the mud at Buffy’s feet. She jumped and winced at the sound of impact.

“Then you’re no better than the demons you fight.” Gabriel disappeared a moment later, leaving Buffy confused and Michael glaring.

“Gather your scythe and your slayers,” Michael ordered her, turning and walking away. “You are done here.”

“Michael,” Buffy called out, reaching for his arm. She barely managed to grab hold of his jacket, and the look he shot her as she did made her want to let go. She resisted, adjusting her grip to encircle his arm instead. “What’s wrong?”

“This does not concern you.” Michael jerked his arm free. His gaze drifted towards the horizon where Buffy could see lightning flashing as if playing a worldwide game of tag. “I must speak with my brothers. I’ll contact you later.”

With a flutter of wings, he was gone, leaving Buffy standing in the muck with some thirty-odd slayers. Sighing, she walked back to the scythe and picked it up, resting it on her shoulder before she pulled her phone free from her pocket. Hitting speed dial, she barely had to wait as Willow answered on the second ring.

“Beam us up, Will,” Buffy exhaled, her voice telling of her exhaustion. A second later, a bright flare burst forth. When it dimmed all that remained were scorch marks, a burning barn, and churned mud.

Chapter Nine
Tags: big bang, seasons of wither
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