Disclaimer: All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al. All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, et al.
Team/Challenge: Team Roadhouse - #6 - Amnesty - Hellfire - #1 - Weather.
Word Count: 1,020.
Summary: The New Council ends.
Notes: Spoilers for 'Born Under a Bad Sign'
Willow rolled across the warehouse's dirt floor, pulling her left arm towards her body, as if sheltering it would make it hurt any less. She winced as she looked out from behind her hair, trying to tell the direction from which Andrew's screams were coming. The wind outside battered against the warehouse walls, making it even harder to figure out where he had Andrew and harder still to work out if Meg was still around. Using her unbroken arm, Willow pulled herself up into a sitting position taking deep breaths as she leaned against the metal crates behind her.
Andrew was still screaming, at least that meant he was still alive, that it wouldn't be a body she would stumble across this time, like it had been with Dawn, Giles and Xander.
At first she hadn't been able to believe that Buffy could date such a monster, until Xander had bitterly pointed out that the pattern wasn't all that different to normal. Even then Willow had argued back, that usually Buffy's men had at least attempted redemption of some sort, unable to believe the evidence in front of them. The evidence provided by Dawn and Giles' deaths.
Dawn had been found tortured and bleeding to death tied to the scaffolding in place for the repair work around the Council's building. It had been too late for Willow to do anything other than to hold her as she died. Giles had been found a week later in Ellen's bed, neck broken.
It had been Ellen that had given them a direction to look in, but it was one that only made sense if there was an accomplice on their side, too.
Two days later Buffy had stood over Xander's body with a smirk on her face, and then laughed at Willow's screams of denial and confusion.
"I really wish you would stop calling me Buffy, witch. It makes me sound like such a... cheerleader. You can call me Meg, it sounds better and I got used to it."
"Really, Willow, aren't you supposed to be a genius? Or maybe I'm just that good of an actress. What do you think?"
Willow shook her head, trying to stop the constant replay flashing through her mind. Now was not the time to dwell, she could do that later. Andrew was still alive, there was still someone left she could save. If only she could figure out how to do it. This Meg demon had been around such a long time.
Now that she knew Buffy wasn't Buffy and hadn't been for a while she could see all the little things that had made sense then, the ones that now added up to a lost and broken New Council. To a slayerless world, to a world where it was supposedly so safe she could trust in the council to hold back her magic for her.
It had been so long since she had gone into battle without her magic and a dozen slayers to back her up that she'd forgotten how it worked, how to fight like a normal human being. She should have learned by now that she couldn't always rely on her magic.
She saw a flash of blonde hair in the distance, was it Buf-Meg? Or Andrew? She stood and moved around the crates slowly, Sam, Meg's boyfriend had hold of Andrew by the throat and was whispering something in his ear, something that was making the geek squirm.
Willow could only watch as Sam brought up the knife he'd had hidden on his body somewhere and stroked the blade across Andrew's face. She shivered as Andrew paled even further and the front of his pants darkened as Sam laughed.
Suddenly Sam turned and looked Willow in the eyes, smirking, he uttered a phrase that froze her blood,
As suddenly as he had turned to her he turned back and plunged the knife into Andrew's gut, laughing as the boy gurgled. Willow gasped, taking an involuntary step backwards she hit something, someone.
"Now, now Willow," Meg laughed bringing her arms up around Willow's shoulders in a sick imitation of comfort, "let Buffy make it all better." She let Willow struggle against her, watching as Sam dropped Andrew's still writhing body and stalked towards them.
"C'mon, Wills, what's a little murder between friends?"
Meg passed Willow over to Sam, taking the knife in return. Running her finger through the blood she groaned. Reaching around Willow she lifted her bloody finger up to Sam's mouth, letting him suck it clean.
"Or would you prefer we flayed them? 'Cause we were actually saving that one for last, for you. Weren't we Sammy? Dean?"
Any relief Willow had felt when she'd spotted Dean in the shadows was gone with his answer.
"Sure we were, baby."
Meg sent a wicked grin in his direction and reached for his hand as she stalked back towards her prey. Dean laughed as he let her pull him along.
"What? What are you doing with them, Dean?"
"Really, Willow. You really thought I'd let Sammy do something like this by himself?"
"I never thought you'd let him do something like this period."
Meg giggled, "Really Wills, you should know better. My boy Dean was all ready to cover up for his brother last time I was around, and it wasn't even him that had been naughty. What really made you think he'd do anything different this time?" At the look on Willow's face Meg shifted into Buffy mode, simpering and all.
"But, but he's a good guy! And good guys never go bad. They're always stalwart and true. All white hats and unicorns shooting rainbows out of their backsides." The demon let the facade drop again,
"Seriously? You don't win every time, Willow." She sighed, "Are we about done here, boys? 'Cause I gotta say, I'm getting bored."
The blonde took one last look at the red head and turned and walked away, doing up the buttons on her coat to buffer herself from the wind.
"Catch up when you've disposed of her boys."