InsaneJournal

FIC: What the Ohio Board of Tourism Will Never Tell You-- pt 8/9
~sighs~ I lied. The jumble of notes and scraps of scenes conversation is longer than what I thought when it's all fleshed and put together and straightened to some coherency. One restless boo and a massive case of freezies tonight which killed more time than believable. Final part tomorrow because I didn't get it all done around chaos, but I got *something* done.

full header & chapter one || chapter two || chapter three || chapter four || chapter five || chapter six || chapter seven ||



Chapter Eight—Worry about that if the world doesn't end tonight







Joshua struggled to sit up and wrapped his arm around his niece looking at the group circling them warily.

“Put them in with me Faith and Andrew. You have any clue what you two managed to do at all?”

Cayla warily shook her head.

“What spells did you patch together?”

“Uhm—I--” Cayla swallowed. “Didn't exactly use a spell...I—kinda...just did it..”

“Oh yay. Well for starters—I'm Xander. That's my body, Gerard's in there and this is his body.”

“Oh shit,” Cayla whispered.

“Cay!” Joshua scolded. He knew it was ridiculous even as he said it but it was something familiar and normal at least and...

“Yeah. Oh shit about sums it up,” the guy said tiredly.

“What are you going to do with us?”

“Hells if I'd know. We'll figure it out after the world doesn't end tonight and everyone's back to normal. Figure out how to get you trained up enough we're not dealing with this sort of crap again—and older guy? Sixties? Maybe seventy? Insane bastard of a preacher type that was beating on you two in the vision I had.”

“My father,” Joshua swallowed. “Cayla's grandfather.”

“Joy. Means we've got to figure out lawyers, custody and social services sort of shit too. Whatever. Tomorrow after the world doesn't end. Right now, you two need to grab a plate of pizza and sit down with Julie Janice and Rebecca to start untangling how to get everyone back to normal later. And you're totally freaking grounded from unsupervised spellwork indefinitely—and no, Andrew does not count as supervision.”

“Hey!”

“You only count as supervision if I okay it first.”

“Fine,” the one, presumably Andrew, pouted.

“Oh look at you poor dears,” an older woman smiled and shook her head. “I'm Julie, my sister Janice and I are the leaders of the coven that works with this group.


~


Xander wondered if it was just him or if the Chaos of Apocalypse countdown was more chaotic than usual.

“Faith...” Xander stared as they reentered the reading room with the two shaky witches that at least set off the bodyswap, batman and ninja school chaos.

“I was good. I was nice. I deserve a freaking cookie,” Faith snarled.

Xander glanced back over to the two Slayers who were now sitting with all the little kids in “Mr. Ray's Music Class” in the far corner—both duct-taped from knee to anle and hands ducttaped behind their backs. “Mr. Worm” sat on the floor and was being used as a living chair by at least four of the kids.

“No, MacGyver watching for you for a while,” Xander snorted with a glance at the duct taped up guitarist who thought he was Batman. He looked over to where Mikey was still obsessed with his sketches and attempts to make blueprints and calculations under the watchful eye of Matt. At least almost everyone was safely accounted for.

“Are you totally fucking insane?” Brian stared at him. “They say the world is ending twice tonight, you agreed with them. You and Gerard are in the wrong fucking bodies and--”

“Janice?” Xander called out.

“Bob's still alive in Jamaica and unmaimed. I can't get a better pinpoint yet,” was Janice's reply from somewhere. Xander couldn't quite see her through the crowd of slayers, coven members, Kumquats and everyone else scattered around the large reading room.

“What?” Xander raised an eyebrow at Brian who looked like he was going to either go into a berserker style rage or have a complete nervous breakdown or something.

“I think I found a Kumquat Egg prophecy--” one of the younger slayer's voices came from the far corner.

“Put a bookmark on it and forget it for now. Two apocalypses tonight people, focus!” Faith called out. “And sun's going down in an hour and a half with a freaking outdoor concert in the park til one!”

“It's for a blue egg though.”

“Bookmark it anyway. I want a witch and two slayers at the park.” Xander called out. “Angie, Alexis and Tasha. You're not gonna have back up to call cause we're going to have our hands full. Get going, get a feel of the crowd and the layout and spots to watch while it's still light. Don't get dead.”

“Don't get dead?” Brian squawked.

“First rule of slaying. Don't get dead. Second rule of slaying, don't lose body parts. I kinda failed at that one. But I've managed not to get dead yet. And I've been doing this about thirteen years.”

“Not dead is good.” Gerard managed.

Xander patted Gerard on the shoulder. “Not dead is always good.”

“Spell!” Andrew blurted. And then launched straight into babble over the spell he and Rebecca had designed.

Xander managed not to wince. Spells were never ever good in his experience. They tended to go absolutely haywire. The rune on skin thing was fairly good, or at least better than a direct spell. He shot Faith a less than amused look anyway. He had no doubt where the idea for that had come from. He hoped this rune-spell followed the same pattern of being eventually tolerable.

Rebecca and Andrew were actually a fairly good team for something like this. Rebecca wasn't cautious; she was neurotically pessimistic. The woman could and had in the past, come up with no less than a hundred and eight fatal horrific chain reactions that could come from jaywalking on a residential street without a car in sight.

Andrew was a comic book/sci-fi geek with a side of hella strong mojo. No caution and no limit to his imagination once inspiration struck and he took off running. He was much better about trying to think of consequences, since he didn't want to be evil and it would suck if Faith or Xander killed him for going evil. Still, Andrew was Andrew and too creative for his own good, and possibly several dimensions own good if he ever really really went evil. Not playing at it like the Geek Triad had been, mostly. Warren had been psycho. Andrew and Jonathon had been mostly just playing in their fantasy worlds, seeing what they could make real from comic books and scifi movies.

It was Brian who hit the worry about how the hell were they going to explain Gerard suddenly having ink with his over-reported, but very real, phobia of needles. Lyn at the very least was going to want some explanations. The answer to that was to shave a little square of hair nearly at the base of their skulls where it was never likely to be seen unless they shaved their heads or went completely bald somehow, and both of them had shaggy and longish enough hair to cover the spot until it grew back in.

Xander listend to the spiel of the spell the second time, this time from Rebecca, much more dour, dismal and predicting a bare minimum of ways it could go wrong. Just the most likely, she'd learned to be brief in apocalypse mode. Still the most likely wasn't all that comforting, especially when those were bad enough and likely just never happened to Xander. The more complex the spell, the more ways it could tank and go beyond fubar. And there was already the fact GoodFang hadn't left her “territory” of his body even if she was technically kinda welded into his spirit.

They'd decided to limit it to certain weapons. Sword, knife, stake, staff and scythe was actually not all that limited when it came to demon killing because a staff could be sharpened on one end and have a blade attached to the other, and those would cover the basics really of most everything. Xander didn't make a peep at Rebecca calling that limited. Between Rebecca's apocalyptic pessimism and Andrew being Andrew, he was sure that was a 'limited list'. At least it was a practical list that would cover most basic demons. The speed strength and agility were limited to life or death fighting. They wouldn't have it in day to day life. Well, Gerard wouldn't. Xander would probably be using it daily for the rest of his life but for Gerard that would be a non-issue and Rebecca's down right positive 'would likely only be a good thing for Xander' was possibly going to make the list of things never ever to say The list was topped with “I wish” followed closely by “At least it can't get worse” and “What next”. Xander was sure anything that was good for him or was for his own good had to be somewhere rounding out the top five of that list. He'd been friends with ever helpful well intentioned Willow for him not to soundly believe that.

He finally cut Rebecca off. “It's not going to kill us, fry our brains or screw up our chances of getting back to our own bodies?”

“I'm fairly sure.”

“Close enough, get this over with we don't have time. I really hate piggy-backed apocalypses.”



~


No needles. Don't worry they weren't going to use needles.

Gerard didn't find that very reassuring—AT ALL. Some sort of herb-paint that would be permanently fixed into skin like a tattoo from the mother fucking SPELL!

“We got fifteen?”

The woman, Rebecca nodded fussing with details of—something. Gerard couldn't quite bring himself to get past all of this to begin to focus on what the hell she was saying or doing.

“Good. Time for a cigarette. Your nic fits are annoying as hell.” Xander said.

“You're going to pay for this, Bossman,” Frank shouted.

“I don't fuckin' think so, Frank. I get to whack you upside the head and say I told you to stop with the stupid shit in interviews two albums ago.” Brian snorted as they walked by.

“Where's Robin?” Frank demanded and managed to knock over the chair he was in with his struggling against the tape. That didn't stop him from glaring up at them as if he were in charge rather than making a complete ass of himself duct taped into a chair.

“In Jersey running Skeleton Crew.” Gerard shot back.

“No he's not!”

“How about Ninja School in Jamaica?” Xander tried.

That got a glare.

“Huh maybe Bob's doing okay if he's the Dick or Tim versions of Robin. Jason was more of a street fighter than a ninja. Wonder if that makes Jamia Barbara or Cassandra.”

“Don't forget Steph. Couple of the girls around here into comics would hurt you for forgetting Steph-Robin.”

“Can't be Steph-Robin if Frank said he though. So he has to mean Dick, Jason or Tim.”

“Have you lost your fucking mind, Gerard?” Brian shouted.

Xander grabbed them both by the arm and hauled them up the flights of stairs from the library under the school to whichever school building they were under and outside. Je was really glad Xander didn't say a damn thing, just handed over the cigarettes he'd picked from Brian's pocket to Gerard after he'd lit one himself. Xander might be the one with Gerard's nicotene addition at the moment but that didn't stop Gerard from needing a goddamn cigarette to try to keep from losing his fucking mind right now.

Gerard took a deep drag off the cigarette, the familiarity of the action, faintest heat of the smoke scritching the back of his throat on the way to his lungs which he usually didn't notice, Xander's body wasn't as acclimated to smoking and was somehow more...something. Not just taller and in better shape, the depth perception was weird. He was doing okay enough, Xander had really good sight and balance, and he'd actually stumbled around less than Xander. “Jesus what the fuck are we gonna do?”

“The same thing we do every night, Pinky. We go. We slay. We save the world, try not to get landed in the ER or hauled in by the cops for something. Come back here. Get unswitched. Get Bob back from Jamaica. Get Frank convinced he isn't Bruce Wayne, and get Ray and Mikey over their obsessions. And whatever else needs cleaned up. Patch up any bleeding wounds and have celebratory Chinese. Just like we do every—well the go slay and try not to get injured or arrested is every night. The apocalypse is only about once a month or something. The Universe's versions of PMS. Monthly Minor Apocalypse.”

“You're totally fucking insane,” Brain glared.

“You—how the fuck did you even get started doing this fucking shit? How I mean—the FUCK?” Gerard stared.

“Shock finally wore off enough to get wound up?” Xander snorted.

“YOU WANT ME TO FUCKING FIGHT DEMONS!” Gerard shouted.

“Prophecy does. And even with my record of making them go sideways, like with the original split in the slayer line. I gotta say the ones mentioned outright can't play hooky and that's me, you, Faith and Spike. You'll have the spell so you should be able to fight. Be more worried about when you get back in your own body. Your body doesn't do mojo hangovers for shit. And you're probably not going to be able to move much tomorrow. You're in okay shape, but you're not in demon-fighting shape. Even with the healing factor they were talking, you're still gonna feel it some.”

“What if I don't fucking want to?”

“I go any way. You'll probably end up stuck with my body and we don't stop the apocalypses, hell over runs the earth and your brother and your band get killed or eaten right off if they're lucky. Unless some demon decides they're cute or entertaining and keep them as a toy for a while. Toys always get broken and die, but they take a lot longer to die than just flat out getting killed or eaten.” Xander said. “Faith's going to have you right next to her. She'll toss a demon on your sword and a vamp on your stake so that counts as fighting/killing and your being there will count as saving people. So we'll be able to hopefully break the damn spell or reverse it and get our bodies back.”

Gerard stared. “Fuck.”

“Mmm yeah. That pretty much sums it up. But it's situation normal for us around here. We know what we're doing. Just—don't panic.”

“He's right how the fuck do you get started doing this shit? I mean is there some sort of club?” Brian said sounding almost hiysterical. Gerard wondered if Brian was the one that was going to need the time off to recuperate when this was all through. “My band are either out of their fucking minds, in the wrong fucking body, or somewhere in Jamaica alive and fucking not maimed! And if you get them all back to normal then what the fuck? Just let us go?”

Gerard thought that was the stupidest expression he'd ever seen on his face, including some really really bad pictures when he'd been drunk or stoned way back. Xander just gaped at Brian for a long moment. “Why wouldn't we?” Xander shot back.

“Oh I don't know. School full of girls with super powers and weapons and--”

“And anyone that came to the school would only see a school. The passage to the weapons room is hidden, the library under the school we've been in is hidden. No way anyone who isn't with one of us would find them. You go run tell someone Gerard was in my body and Bob was in Ninja School in Jamaica and Frank was batman? They'll be checking you into a padded room. Why would we keep you? You're not fighters. You—we've had plenty of people come and go, just fight one thing or one apocalypse and then go back to their normal lives and try to forget about the things that go bump in the night. Really who are you going to tell? What are you going to do? Track down a demon? Get it dissected? The government knows about demons. They're the ones more likely to pull some stupid cover up complete with a wetworks team. Cause mass hysteria if you do capture a demon and get it on the six o'clock news before some Alphabet soup drones with marksman certifications get sent after you by the Pentagon or the UN Security Council?”

“Shouldn't people know...” Gerard scowled. He broke off at the are you a fucking idiot look from Brian. He hadn't gotten that particular look in years. Warped when Brian was managing them and tour managing the Used maybe?

“More people know than you might think.” Xander shrugged. “Just stay close to Faith and don't panic.”

“Uh huh. That's easy,” Gerard snorted.

“Faith was fifteen when she got the mystical tap on the shoulder. Buff was fifteen. Couple of those girls in there are still fourteen fifteen and they've been at this at least a couple years now. I wasn't quite sixteen when I stumbled into this. You've done good so far.”

“Fucking kids.” Brian muttered.

“Kids think they're invincible and don't spook as easily.” Xander said cynically. “You'll be fine. You screw up. The best your brother can hope for is to get killed fast, so I know you're not going to screw up.”

Gerard swallowed but nodded determinedly. Put like that, yeah, he'd freak the hell out tomorrow. Once the world wasn't ended and Mikey was safe.




~

Xander visibly reeled from the force of the spell. Andrew and Rebecca had put everything they had into it, and that was honestly a helluva lot.

“You okay X?” Faith frowned.

“Yeah. Yeah I'll be fine. He's not going to like Andrew and Rebecca much for the hangover tomorrow but I'll be okay,” Xander said shaking off the force of the spell as best he could. Hopefully when it was time to fight it will have worn off enough. It wasn't nearly as bad as the spell that had switched them. It was going to settle right, or close enough to how it was intended not to be a problem for Gerard. Xander was pretty sure of that.

“I haven't had a hangover in years.”

“You're gonna have the granddaddy of all hangovers tomorrow,” Xander assured Gerard.

Gerard made a face.

“Can I please--” Mikey called out loudly.

“BLUE PRINTS ONLY, MIKEY!” Brian bellowed at Matt's frantic head shaking from behind Mikey.

“Please tell me that isn't some sort of prophecy book he dug up and decided to turn into songs...” Xander looked over to the corner where Mr. Ray's music class was singing “Seven deadly sins, seven ways to win, seven holy paths to hell and your trip begins. Seven downward slopes, seven bloodied hopes, seven your burning fires, seven your desires”

“It's the intro to Moonchild.” Gerard shook his head. “Iron Maiden song.” Well, that or the outro to the last song on the album which, Gerard thought was Only The Good Die Young. Ray's encyclopedic Iron Maiden knowledge had kind of been absorbed in part by all of them. Just like they had Bob able to discuss most comic arcs even when he'd never been the most interested in comics until years on a bus with them.

“Thank the Goddess,” Andrew murmured as they started that portion of song to slow strumming again. “Those kids aren't going to be able to talk tomorrow. They've been singing all day.”

“I'm not going to complain.” Monica, mother to two of Mr. Ray's music class grinned.

Faith laughed. “C'mon. It's going on nine. Apocalypse is starting at ten with or without us. If we get stuck in traffic we're screwed.”

“RAY, I DONT CARE IF THEY'RE WITCH KIDS SING PUFF THE MAGIC DRAGON OR SOMETHING!” Brian stormed over to where Ray was.

Xander looked at Gerard. “That song that bad?”

“It's appropriate for an apocalypse I suppose. Ray tends to go with mood when he's playing and he loves Iron Maiden. But yeah, talking about opening the seventh seal and seven demons and seven angels fighting for a soul and things like that...enough to give kids nightmares if they understand it.” Gerard said uncertainly. He tilted his head at Ray's argument with Brian. “He's got a point, it is a fantastic concept album.”

“Just not for the preschool set, even the children of a coven regularly involved in stopping apocalypses.” Xander snorted. “C'mon. Lets go save the world.”

Gerard made a strangled sound.

“Don't get dead!” Brian shouted, muttered, “I don't fucking believe I said that,” then resumed arguing with Ray, who seemed to have lost all sense whatsoever with needing to teach every thing he knew about music to whoever would listen. Ray seemed to agree maybe Brian had a point about holy paths to hell not really being age-appropriate material. Brian's freakout over everything in general tamped down and focused on something he could do—beat sense into Ray's head over song choices, even if he had to get a chair or make Worm do it for him.

“BRIAN!”

“NO, MIKEY!” Brian shouted before Mikey could ask for just a few parts to a space heater again.

Mikey would be okay. Brian and Matt and Worm would watch out for Mikey and Ray and Frank, who was now gagged with a piece of duct tape as well, which was kinda cruel cause he hadn't shaved for two days. That was going to fucking hurt when it came off. Gerard really didn't want to think about two days stubble and duct tape. Evidently Frank had gone off on a tangent and the duct tape was probably better than anything else Faith might have done to him. He'd decided she was a bad guy and took off on a tangent in her direction.

“C'mon, Pet, time to go slay demons,” Spike grinned and slung his arm around Gerard's shoulder. “Oh don't worry about him, one of the witches has an eye on him, she'll shag him into settling down when we get everyone back where they belong.”

"We're so fucking screwed," Gerard muttered.


chapter nine