Disclaimer: I don't own them, would that I did. The characters belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, Greenwalt, Fox, etc. Just using them to tell my own little story.

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Part Seven: The Depths To Which We Sink

"Rupert. Say something," Jenny Calendar said, smiling enigmatically. She was dressed as Buffy had been before, the mischievous glint he remembered so well in her eye.

"You're real?" he croaked, and it was a question. Jenny frowned sympathetically.

"Oh, Rupert. Oh, you poor man. Yes, it's me," she said, and reached out her hand. He clasped her fingers, finding them warm, and tears flowed down his cheeks.

"Why?" he asked, and he wasn't even sure what the question was. She smiled enigmatically.

"I'm here to guide you to what you seek," she answered.

"What?" he replied, still dazed by seeing her smiling back at him. He had forgotten why he was even there until she spoke again.

"The Wand of Dragan," she chided gently, pointing towards a table swathed in red and gold. The wand was blackened with age, topped with a dragon's claw holding a dark red crystal. Giles stared at it in fascination. He had seen wands which appeared grander and more elaborately decorated, but none that radiated the power of this one. He looked back at the dark-haired gypsy nervously.

"What must I do? To get it?" he asked. Jenny laughed softly at the question, and he loved the way her cheeks flushed slightly. It was difficult to return his attention to the Wand.

"It's already done. The Wand is yours. As the man that I love, you are free to wield its power."

"I don't follow," Giles said truthfully. Jenny moved closer to him, laying her hand on his arm. The sensation of her touch made him tremble in remembered longing.

"Dragan was my great-great-great-great-great grandfather...one of the great leaders of the Kalendesh clan. This was his Wand, fashioned by him to serve only one purpose. To restore the dead to life."

"That...that can't be possible," Giles said, suddenly fearful. That kind of power was almost always tinged with darkness. On the other hand, raising the dead to life was exactly what they had come here to accomplish. Jenny smiled enigmatically.

"It's not easy, certainly. Dragan had to put severe restrictions on its use, but it's definitely possible." Giles considered Jenny's declaration in silence for a moment, sudden hope that this whole thing could be ended quickly in his heart.

"You mean, I can use just this Wand to bring Buffy-" Jenny interrupted him brusquely, and Giles could tell she was upset by his assumption.

"No. You can't use the Wand to bring back the Slayer. It can only be used to raise a member of the Kalendesh, and it can only be used by one who loves her."

"What are you saying?" Giles asked, already knowing in his heart.

"You know what I'm saying. You have the Wand...it's yours. You have to power to make things the way they should have been, Rupert. We can be together, live out our lives...you don't have to be alone." He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to have her with him, alive, again. It had been so long, and he had been so lonely.

"Dear Lord," Giles managed. He picked the Wand up, amazed at how natural it felt in his hands. It really did feel meant for him. He looked back at Jenny, hope and desire for her pushing out all other thoughts. Could it be possible...?

"Yes," Jenny said, reading his mind. "It's yours. The thing you want more than anything...I love you so much, Rupert. Please..."

He was close. He could see what he needed to do. So simple. Just raise the Wand, point it at her, say he loved her and wanted her back...and she would be his for the rest of his life. Part of his sensed this moment was his destiny; everything he had endured, everything he had lost, all leading up to this moment where he could claim some measure of happiness.

Everything he had lost.

Everyone he had lost. He cradled the Wand carefully, making certain it pointed nowhere near his beloved.

"No. I can't use the Wand," he said, his voice tight with unshed tears. Jenny's tears of frustration and disappointment flowed freely, but her tone when she spoke was resigned.

"Because of Buffy."

"Yes," Giles answered. He stole one more long look at her, knowing it would be the last. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say." She nodded and turned her back, waving her hand in dismissal.

"There's nothing to say. Your choice is made. Take the Wand and go." Her voice was cool and collected, but he knew she was still crying by the shuddering of her shoulders.

"Jenny, I..."

"Go!"

He fell back as if struck, and began to walk slowly away, forcing himself not to look back. It felt like the moment he had found her broken body all over again. Except that this time he was the one who had snapped her neck. He stumbled, almost falling, and reached forward blindly, realizing almost absently that he was once again in complete darkness. Disoriented, he staggered again and found himself falling...

Giles awoke with a start. For a moment he thought he was back in London, and that everything that had happened since Dawn had found the prophecy was just a dream. Then Gus leaned down and smiled at him.

"Tis well that you're awake, Sir Rupert. The other knights await your presence. I would that this quest be as successful as your own. Will thy be taking the Wand with thee?"

"I think...it needs to be kept safe," Rupert said, searching the other man's eyes. He weighed the risk that the Wand might incur damage on an unknown adventure with leaving it in the hands of a near-stranger, albeit an incredibly helpful one. For his part, Gus appeared to be genuinely trustworthy.

"I give thee my solemn word it will be safely awaiting they return. As will I." Giles nodded, relinquishing the Wand to Gus' care and venturing outside. The others all looked at him expectantly.

"Giles, what happened? You went into that tent thing, then the next thing we know we're waking up back here. Did you do something?"

"I had nothing to do with it. I suppose that once each quest is completed, we'll find ourselves back here."

"It's like we're moving on to the next level in a video game," Xander commented. "So, you completed your mission how, exactly?" he asked, bobbing his head curiously at Giles. Giles looked away.

"I have...we have the Wand of Dragan."

"So we saw," Spike said. "Don't suppose you'd like to let us in on how WE got it?" Giles' eyes blazed, his expression so sorrowfully fierce that Spike actually stepped back. Then the Watcher smiled grimly.

"It won't be the same for you," he said, his expression closed off. "There's nothing I could tell you that would help you prepare. We should get moving. Which way?" The three men shrugged and pointed east, Angel smiling a bit smugly.

"Chalice of Restoration," Angel said.

"We drew straws," Xander added, glaring a bit at the smirking vampire, then looking at Giles, concern in his brown eyes. "You okay, G-man?" The older man winced, coming a bit out of his funk at the familiar disagreement.

"Xander, how many times-" he began, and the younger man grinned. Angel and Spike exchanged 'why me?' looks.

"Sorry, sorry," Xander said as he seated himself on his horse. The others followed suit, hearing Xander's reply on the wind as he urged the horse forward.

"I meant, Sir G-man, of course."

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"That's impossible," Willow and Anya said at the same time. Tara looked bewildered, while Dawn looked pleased.

"Xander...how?"

"I don't understand, he's just riding a horse," Tara said. "Pretty well, too."

"That's the thing, Tara. You know how I told you I'm scared of horses."

"Bad pony trauma. I remember."

"Well, Xander was there, too. He was more traumatized than I was."

"She's right," Anya agreed. "Xander wouldn't even get that close to a horse, let alone try to ride it."

"Well, he's riding one now," Dawn pointed out unnecessarily. "They all are. Giles rides really well."

"It doesn't make sense. Unless..."

"What are you thinking?" Tara said, seeing that familiar glint in her girlfriend's eye that said she thought she was on to something.

"I was just remembering how Xander picked up all that soldier stuff that Halloween we became our costumes...maybe this is like that."

"But Xander doesn't think he's a knight. Xander thinks he's Xander," Dawn observed, and Willow nodded.

"But I still think that being dressed as a knight is somehow giving him, maybe all of them, the skills of a knight. I mean, how did Giles know Dragonsong? And Spike and Angel can run around in the sunlight? I think they all can do things right now they normally couldn't."

"What does it mean?"

"I don't know."

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Thanks to Xander, the eastern journey wasn't completely gloomy. He bickered with Spike, traded good-natured insults with Angel, and generally teased Giles out of his mood. As they proceeded further, however, the atmosphere between them became more and more tense and they stopped talking altogether. The countryside was pleasant enough, but all of them were aware that things could change at any moment. Yesterday had taught them not to trust what they saw around them, so they looked suspiciously at the rolling hills, marshmallow clouds, especially the bubbling stream at which they stopped to water the horses. Angel seemed especially pensive as he stared at the clear running water, and Spike approached him.

"Holy water, you think?" Spike asked gruffly.

"What?" Angel dazedly replied, shaking off his reverie.

"Giles' challenge was fire, with the dragons. Yours is water, right? So, do you think holy water, some kind of watery monster, what?" Spike asked. Giles and Xander joined in the conversation.

"Gus called the impediment the Wells of Sadness. I'm not certain if Wells would be meant literally, however, any more than Field was yesterday," Giles observed.

"So some kind of beastie that makes you all sad?" Spike said.

"Dear God, not Celine Dion!" Xander quipped. Giles smiled slightly, and Spike actually chuckled, covering it up with a cough and a glare at Xander afterwards.

"We're not going to find out standing around here," Angel said tersely, preparing to mount his horse again. The others exchanged concerned glances and followed suit. Xander brought his horse aside Angel and looked at him seriously.

"I know this totally goes against every principle, Angel, but I'm not sure brooding is the right attitude to have when you're facing Wells of Sadness. Unless you think it's going to be a competition, in which case, brood on, you!"

Angel ignored him, spurring the horse forward. Xander followed, shaking his head ruefully, and the others fell in behind. Angel's horse faltered, and he slowed, putting his hand up to signal the others to do the same.

"What is it?" Giles asked. All of the horses began tossing their heads nervously, trying to back up. Angel frowned, scanning the area ahead. Other than being treeless, it seemed much like the ground they were already passing through, except that it was dotted with several small ponds. Unable to urge the horse to proceed further, Angel dismounted, looking around warily.

"Not sure, but there must be something up ahead. Horses don't like it."

Spike leaned forward and sniffed, then swung out of the saddle, handing the reins of his horse to Angel. As the others dismounted, Spike took a couple of tentative steps forward, jumping back as he felt his foot sinking into the earth.

"Ground's a bit soft and spongy," he drawled.

"Swamp?" Giles offered.

"Some such," Spike agreed. "Horses know something we don't, you think?" The others nodded thoughtfully, then Xander exclaimed softly, handing the reins of his horse to a surprised Giles. Moving towards one of the nearby trees, Xander drew his sword and hacked off a long slender branch, cutting off the leaves to make a staff.

"Ah yes, good idea, Xander," Giles said in approval as he realized what the younger man was up to. As the others watched with curious attention, he placed the staff against the ground where Spike had stepped, watching it sink about three inches. He pulled it out, wincing at the sucking sound, and tried another spot. It sank a bit further there, about six inches in. After repeating this a couple more times, he smiled grimly at the others.

"There's solid ground underneath whatever this stuff on top is, but it's not level," he said, holding the staff out to Spike. "You two think you can handle long wooden sticks without staking yourselves?"

"I'll ignore that, because you've made yourself useful for once. You're smarter than you look, Harris," Spike said approvingly, taking the staff from Xander's hand and feeling the weight experimentally. Angel was staring off into the distance, appearing to be lost in thought yet again.

"Too dangerous to take the horses, especially when something is making them skittish," Giles mused to Angel, not realizing the vampire wasn't listening. He cleared his throat, and Angel jumped. He snatched the reins of the other two horses from Giles' grasp, leading all four horses back towards the trees.

"I'll tie them up," Angel barked. "Cut more staffs, we'll need them."

"Is it too dangerous to take Angel too? He's Mr. Bossy Edgy Guy right now," Xander commented pointedly.

"Xander, do be quiet," Giles sighed. The three of them were working on making staffs similar to the one Xander had fashioned.

"Sorry. Sir Bossy Edgy Guy," Xander corrected. He gestured towards the ponds. "Wells of Sadness?"

"It's at least possible. I suggest we try to give them a wide berth," Giles responded. Xander handed Angel the staff he had just made when the vampire approached. He grinned saucily at Angel.

"Made yours a little longer than the others, big guy. You're supposed to be the one most at risk, so I thought you could use some extra advantage." Angel nodded thanks, getting used to the feel of the staff. Xander collected his own. Spike grinned, seeing an opportunity to annoy the vampire further that was too good to pass up.

"Or the usual compensation for other areas. Always needing the longest sword," Spike taunted. At the glare of the other three, he feigned innocence, then turned and plunged his staff into the ground, smiling in satisfaction. "Onward, good knights, and all that rot, eh?"

Traversing the ground was slow and difficult. They had finally decided to go single file as much as possible; finding one good path seemed the best course of action. Spike had taken the lead, with Giles and Xander behind him and Angel bringing up the rear. They were unable to convince Angel to take a more protected position after Spike's snarky comments. It soon became clear to the others that their path was going to take them close to one of the small ponds, and Spike stopped, looking back at the others.

"There's no good footing anywhere other than here. Are we all agreeing that this is obviously a trap?"

"So what do we do? We can't turn back," Xander said in frustration.

"Everyone except Spike drop staffs and draw weapons. Whatever's waiting for us in that pond, we'll just have to defeat it," Angel said.

"Cor, you mean I don't get to fight? Remind me not to take lead again," Spike complained, but continued to find the best pathway. As they had anticipated, they were now walking parallel to one of the ponds. All four looked into the water anxiously, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever danger was within its depths. The surface was like glass, simply reflecting images of themselves back at them. The effect was still surprising for the vampires, but worry over their situation kept them from gawking at their reflected selves They kept moving, waiting for something to break the surface, when all four gasped simultaneously. There were faces looking back at them from the water, but now each saw a different face, a face from a nightmare. They all stopped in their tracks, turning towards the water in disbelief.

"Dru?" Spike whispered.

"Jenny," Giles moaned.

"Dad?" Xander asked weakly.

"Buffy? What..." Angel started in shock.

The lips of the apparitions moved, but the voices were heard as if coming from inside their heads.

*Spike, my Spike, her Spike, whose Spike, you's Spike. Never good enough to be loved, always second best, following the Slayer like a puppy dog, like a neutered mongrel mutt. No, a dog would be better; at least a dog knows what it is, but you? You still think you're the master. You're a joke. No soul, but you love, oh yes you love, Spike, but no one ever loves in return, do they? We laugh at you, Spike, we're all laughing. Buffy, Cecily and I, we're all here, laughing...*

"No," Spike moaned helplessly. He felt unable to move. Next to him Giles was shaking his head, tears falling as he saw Jenny's beautiful face contorted in a sneer.

*How could I have been so blind, so stupid, Rupert? I thought you actually loved me, but you never did, did you? You're not even capable of love, of passion, of any emotion. How could you? How could you leave me here? Do you even know what it's like? How I'm suffering? Do you even care? Of course not, you're not capable of caring. You cold-blooded murderer. Oh, yes, I know. I know what you've done. You killed Ben for her, and now you've killed me. Killer! I'll hate you forever!*

Xander was repeating the word 'no' in a low voice, his eyes wide. Next to him, Angel tried to look away from Buffy's face, so sad and disappointed, but couldn't. Her words whipped through his mind like fire, burning where they touched his heart.

*Oh, God, Angel, I know what you are. I know what you've done. I mean, I always knew, but I didn't really know, but now I've seen...oh, God, I've seen so much. They're all here, and they're suffering, Angel. I've met your victims, so many victims, so tormented. They're all still suffering because of you, Angel. I don't think I can look at you anymore. That time I stopped you from watching the sunrise, I was wrong. You need to end it all, Angel, it's the only way your victims will be free. The only way I'll ever be free of you...*

Angel reached out to try to touch the Buffy image, and it shrank away, clearly frightened. He gave a shuddering gasp, tears falling. Xander was trembling, his knuckles white as they clutched the sword tighter, his father's voice, angry and disgusted, ringing through his head.

*What do you think you're doing, you idiot? You actually think you're capable of doing something right? You've been nothing but a screw up since the day you were born, biggest mistake I ever made. Thought I'd get a son out of the deal, not some cowardly, whining, pansy, misfit cretin that couldn't do the right thing if his life depended on it. You're not a man, a real man. You're not my son. You'll never be my son. You think I could love a son like you? You bumbling fool...*

"Shut up," Xander muttered, but the voice in his head continued unabated. Xander closed his eyes. "Shut up shut up SHUT UP SHUT UP!" he screamed, thrusting his sword into the water, making the image ripple. The voice in his head stopped, and when he opened his eyes and looked down he only saw his own rippling reflection. Xander looked towards the others, then down at himself. He was now sunk into the ground nearly to his knees. Spike was almost down to his waist, and Giles was just past it. Xander shouted at them as he struggled to pull himself free.

"It's a trap! Don't look at the water!" Xander whipped his head around to tell Angel, alarmed to find the vampire sunk down past his chest. "Angel, it isn't real! Look at me! Dammit, look at me! Listen to me!" Xander heard dual cries as he shook his right leg loose from the tar-like muck. He turned his head and saw Giles tear his gaze away from the water. He immediately stopped sinking. Spike was bringing his staff down into the water repeatedly, his face distorted with anger.

"Bloody hell," he muttered when he finally stopped and realized he was mired in the earth to his waist.

"Good Lord," Giles exclaimed shakily. "I seem to be quite well stuck. But I’ve leveled off. Is everyone alright?"

"Angel's dropping fast," Xander panted, finally finding enough purchase to pull his left leg free. He hurried to aid Angel, but realized with a sinking heart he was too late. Xander screamed Angel's name in horror as the top of the vampire's head sank below the surface. Angel was gone.

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