Ch9. In Which a Prophecy Surprises...No One Really
Tara clutched her book, looking at the young man in the door way. “H-hi, I’m T-tara. From the other d-day. I n-need to s-s-see the twins.”
“Um, sure. I guess.” Greg backed away from the door, choking back a verbal welcome. Xander had drilled it into his head that ‘come on in’ was a major no-no. The visibly shaking girl walked in. “Can I get you anything? We have soda, milk, juice, AB negative and all kinds of beer, wine, and hard liquor,” he offered, laughing nervously. Something about the blatant fear that Tara was trying so hard to suppress was reminded him of Nick every time a door closed behind him after being buried alive. The CSI could pretend, but he’s new claustrophobia was still there for those who knew where to look. Stop thinking about him, Greggo, he warned himself. You’re dead in Vegas, remember.
Tara chuckled weakly. “N-no thank you. I r-r-r-really need to ssssspeak with the twins. It’s v-v-v-very imp-p-portant.”
“You need to speak to us about what?” Diane asked, having heard the last bit. She’d come down after waking to find herself alone in bed. Greg was adjusting well, but usually when he got up in the night it meant his home-sickness was getting the better of him. She was relieved to see he was okay, but the presence of the young witch did little for her peace of mind.
“Um. D-d-d-,” Tara sighed in frustration. She took a deep breath. “Do you know anyone else that the phrase, O-one Ancient One in Two Ancient forms, might apply to?”
Diane stared at the young girl, thunderstruck. Who decided prophecies were of the good, she wondered, knowing full well that that was what this was about. Finally, she remembered to breath. “Greg, go get Delvin for me.” He nodded and went to do as she said and she turned back to Tara. “How do you know what we are?” Please let it not be a prophecy.
“Y-y-you feel old. And like l-l-l-lightening. M-m-my gr-great-grandmother met some like you and in her j-j-journal, she described w-w-what it felt like,” Tara explained. Delvin came down the stairs with Greg trailing behind him. Tara forced herself to keep going. “There’s a pr-prophecy. One of my ancestors made it. I th-think it’s about the two of you. I-I-I didn’t tell Willow, because Xander hasn’t yet, and I think he should be the one to decide when and how. Um, here.”
Diane accepted the book, opening it to the page that Tara indicated. Ignoring the translated version, she read the original written in Gaelic. Wordlessly, she passed it to Delvin who did the same. “That’s definitely us. We’re the only Immortal twins in existence.”
“And we have just taken two young students, new blood, and here we keep them on the mouth of Hell,” Delvin added. “There are very few demons that are capable of consuming the energy of an Immortal,” he mused, running his fingers over the worn book. “Do you know anything about it, other than this.”
She shook her head, relieved they were taking it so well. “M-most of the journals aren’t in English or Latin, so I don’t know all that’s in them.”
“Would you mind if we looked through them, just in case there is something we can use?” Delvin asked respectfully.
“I-I don’t mind. I-I’ll br-bring them tomorrow. You can k-keep that one for now.”
“Hey, Tara!” Xander said, coming down the stairs. Upon leaving Spike’s room, he headed toward the kitchen to get some juice. Donating blood to injured vamps was thirsty work. To say he was surprised to see Willow’s shy girlfriend talking to the other Immortals was an understatement. “Is something wrong?”
Tara cracked a pained-looking smile and Diane took pity on her and answered, “Apparently a great evil is coming for me and Delvin. I blame you.”
“It was a joke, Delvin.”
“Still, nothing. Prophecies have a way of rearing their ugly heads no matter who’s involved.” Diane bumped her brother’s arm. “It’s only the end of the world, relax.”
Xander looked back and forth between the two older Immortals. Finally, he looked at Greg and asked, “Can you translate?”
“I didn’t read it,” Greg answered. “But it seems that Tara found a prophecy about them and their noob students coming to the hellmouth and being hunted by a demon of some sort. I’ve never seen a real prophecy before.”
“I have,” Xander groaned. “And they’re never good. No one ever prophesizes, ‘and he shall spend his days vegging out with good movies and a never-ending Twinkie supply.’ No, no, it’s always, “and he shall be destroy, she shall die, they shall be hunted by the ghost of Dracula’s first puppy.” Never anything fun.”
Tara smiled. She couldn’t help it. “Dr-dracula’s puppy?”
Xander groaned again. “Not telling. I need something to drink.” And with that he walked away, grumbling something about fate’s butt monkey.
Delvin watched him go with a smirk. “Now I really want to know,” he complained. “Did you come here alone?” he asked the girl.
She nodded. “W-w-willow’s at a sc-scoobie meeting. G-Giles’s isn’t far from here. I told her I’d meet her there after.”
Xander came back in time to hear that. With the revelation about this new prophecy, he knew he needed to tell the other’s about his Immortality. No time like the present, he thought, draining the tall glass of orange juice, and feeling his light-headedness retreat. “I can walk you over. Delvin, do you want me to tell them about the prophecy, or give them any info at all.”
Diane and Delvin looked at each other, silently communicating pros and cons. “It’s only right that those charged with protecting this place know about a new threat,” Delvin finally said. “But though they can know about us, they shouldn’t make the mistake of thinking we will be under there command. We’re letting them know as a courtesy and will accept help, but not orders.”
“Right, wouldn’t let ‘em think that anyway,” Xander replied with a smirk. He pulled on his trench coat (yeah it was hot, but still so cool, and a must for concealing a giant double-bladed ax) and waved at the others. “See you when the interrogation is over.” He put his hand on the door and hesitated. He looked back at Delvin. “Spike is feeling a little better, but he’ll want to be left alone for a while. Wounded pride and all.”
Delvin nodded, still feeling bad about invading the vampire’s privacy earlier. “He won’t be bothered.”
“’Kay. Later.” Xander held the door for Tara and followed her out. If, no, when Delvin found out that he was letting Spike have his blood, his teacher would be pissed. But it didn’t matter. Spike was family. The black sheep, blood-drinking, rebellious big brother of the family, maybe, but family, nonetheless. Xander couldn’t just let him suffer.
AN: Sorry about the wait and the shortness. On the up side, today was the last day of my online course so I'll have more time now. So, how do you think the scoobies will react?