Reality Crisis

There had been kids to get to safety and for a while Faith had done what she felt like she needed to do without thinking about it but slowly it was like all these other sensations had started sneaking up on her and knocking at her heart and mind until the normal Faith was overwhelmed and gone somewhere.

And then she realized she was running around barefoot in the rubble carrying a machete like she was some sort of action hero. Faith's hand trembled so hard she dropped the huge knife and she ran away ducking around obstacles and under things until she managed to cram herself into a small space between things and wrapped her arms around her legs hoping no one would find her.

Earthquakes weren't really a new thing, all said. Michonne wasn't completely sheltered and she hadn't been confined to one state her entire life. She'd traveled, and she'd even managed to be in places when earthquakes had happened. It wasn't a pleasant experience by any stretch of the imagination, but none of them had been as bad as the one she was feeling now.

Survival instinct had Michonne flinging herself out of the apartment without making sure that the door was secure behind her, and fleeing the building. She knew that it was better to stay inside when the earth began to move. Of course, that was when you were certain the building you were in was going to stay standing. She had no such faith in the structures of die Festung. She felt that there would be less chance of something falling on her outside than the roof falling on her if she stayed in.

Movement wasn't easy, and she just barely managed to not trip on her exit.

Once outside, she glanced around, unsure of what to do.

"This time don't share with anyone all right?" Faith had gone out of her way the last couple of days to make sure this little girl she'd been keeping track of had got enough food to eat. The problem was she kept giving it to other people which was kind of defeating the purpose. "I'll make sure the others got what they need, got it?" The stupid little moppet nodded earnestly and Faith knew even though she was going to eat some of it once again tomorrow she'd be hungry and without food. This sucked. They needed an organized place to go but she was so not the organizing and fixing kind of person.

You needed a bully beat up, she was your girl, you needed something administrative done you might as well be talking Martian.

She just shook her head watching the little form run off around a corner then everything changed.

Faith was leaning against a wall with her arms crossed practically vibrating with anger. "Ought to kick your ass big guy." Kitty was there and she looked just as angry. Only with both of them you'd have to know them to see it since they could both smile sweetly while they kicked your balls up into the back of your throat.

It was just one of those days where Faith was bored...you know the days that end in 'y'...so she was out on one of her restless walks trying to find something to do that didn't cause property damage or end up with a hangover. The property damage was negotiable of course.

There was the regular bars she tended to hit up for the crap alcohol they made but she just couldn't seem to settle into a routine here. No specific goals or Watchers to fight against. No one to understand and help her find her way through the dark spots in her mind.

Today it worked out that she got a nice surprise and it chased away the boredom and the restlessness.

"Yo! Big guy!" Faith saw a very familiar figure and she decided to give him a Faith greeting. That consisted of her running and jumping up to hug him around the neck so see if he'd catch her or be so caught off guard she'd end up on her ass. Either way was acceptable.

Damon wasn't entirely sure what had happened. He had been in bed, recovering from his werewolf bite and then suddenly he was in some kind of wilderness. He started to walk, still feeling a little weak but he was getting stronger bit by bit. At least he thought that he was. Maybe he hadn't gotten the cure after all and this was some kind of mind trick? Though he was sure that if his mind was playing tricks on him it would do better than put him in some kind of random place in the middle of nowhere. And he was sure that Elena or Katherine would be involved somehow.

No, this seemed to actually be real. Which was quite mind boggling to him. He could do without this right now. Stefan had left with Klaus and Elena was alone with nobody to protect her. No, this wasn't meant to happen. He shouldn't be here. He needed to find some way back. Some way to help Elena, and to get his brother back. Because he felt guilty that his life had cost Elena her happiness and forced Stefan to have to go back to his ripper days.

Damon walked until he eventually reached some kind of camp and looked around for any kind of life that he could see. Hopefully there was someone around that could tell him what was going on and how he would be able to get out of here.

The large Russian had consumed his power bar quickly. It was not enough to actually sustain him for long. But he felt better snacking here and there rather than eating a huge meal in front of everyone as often as he really wanted to do it. It meant that he was always a little bit hungry, but he was okay with that.

Within moments, however, the hulking man had a bit of a goofy look on his face and was tooling around the streets of die Festung with a slow gait, hands in his pockets. It was the casual stride of a youth with very few cares in the world. The place he was in seemed familiar to him, but he couldn't be sure of the why.

"Da. Hello." He said to a passerby who greeted him and apparently knew him. His accent, if it was at all possible, seemed thicker. Less Americanized. "Have you seen my father? No? Is he in the field? No?"

Confused, Piotr moved along. He didn't understand why all these people were so short. He was a massive youth, he knew, at just thirteen years old, but he wasn't that big. He wondered if he had fallen asleep and been brought to another collective. Where all the people were tiny.

"Dobry den!" He said to another man, who smiled widely and began to walk closer. If this man knew him, and was also a part of a collective, then he should have no problem with the Russian. Piotr's mind didn't even work through to that conclusion, it was just natural. "Kak u vas dela? Chem ty seychas zanimaeshsya?"

Piotr frowned when the man did, not understanding. "Why do you look at me like this? It is the mother tongue! You should have no problems with it. I speak it no differently. This collective cannot be so far away from my own that we have switched dialects. Zhdu vashego otveta!"

He was becoming frustrated.

Fred stared at the library as she stood before it. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want these people who were definitely doing the hero thing to be here. She didn't want any of this. The story she'd written down wasn't very good; she didn't really have much to hide. She'd never had much to hide.

The door was still slightly ajar from before; maybe it was a little wider; maybe it was wider. Her lips thinned as she imagined that more bodies were now piled up just inside. That they'd left the door open for more victims. Her arms tightened on the book she held close.

Maybe if she turned around, told them it was a joke, or said that she'd go in alone. Then, she knew it would never work. There were too many Champions along for the ride. None of them would just walk away, would they? She was going to get them killed, or worse. Fred was rather certain there was worse than death; actually, she'd seen worse than death.

"Libraries always cause trouble." She didn't really believe that, but she was getting a little tired of getting into fixes when she went into libraries, official libraries. Angel's didn't count, even if it did have some really interesting books, scrolls, and files.

Sam hung back after the meeting, hoping to catch Faith as everyone was leaving. He was pretty sure that he was close to answers with that demon and if they were going after an unfamiliar type of demon then they could use all the help they could get. Especially with Zatanna and John missing now.

He knew that he'd offended Faith the first time he'd met her, so he wasn't sure how she would take a request for help. He half-wondered if he should have asked Dean to ask for him, but he had a few guesses as to how that 'conversation' might end up.

Sam fell into step with Faith as the room started to empty out.

"Faith, could I have a word?" he asked.

Brothers Winchester'd banged on a few doors and let people know things were about to get interesting. Whether or not they were going to show, they'd have to wait and see, which was what he was doing.

There may have been chips, jerky, beer, and juice set out for whomever showed up. He might have grabbed one and started on it as he waited. Dean didn't like waiting; he'd do it when he had to, but he didn't like it. Unless it was the rare watching of a strip joint or woman's gym? Not that he got much chance for that sort of thing.

"This is a good idea," he mumbled to himself. It had to be.

Tony wasn't sure if he was happy or upset with being thrown back into the dead world. The City had been modern. Current. Extremely comfortable, especially after being trapped here for a while.

But he did NOT like being around another version of himself, and after being bailed out of jail had avoided him like the plague, instead living it up in the nightlife of the other world.

Now that he was back here he was disappointed and aggravated, but relieved to be back with his suit, and now he'd found himself with some supplies from the City that were very welcome. Good alcohol, some of the better and more finessed tools from his laboratory, and a supply of clothes from his own closet. They were all definitely making being here a lot better.

The only thing he really lamented loosing out of everything was Annie. She hadn't returned with him, and he could only assume that the City he'd been taken to was the one she'd mentioned being from. And maybe it had kept her there. Well, the company would be missed, but Tony wasn't one to dwell. Besides, she was a little gearhead. It was better that she be in a world that could nuture her potential. And his other self would undoubtedly find and employ her. Or she would find him and then he would employ her.

After a few days of intense work; and one of the bottles of good bourbon he'd otherwise decided to savor, Tony had finished the upgrades and finishing touches to the Iron Man suit. He'd focused on the mechanisms to get himself in and out of the suit with much more ease, since he no longer had assembly line machines built to take it off him. He'd also added in an additional scanner set and replenished the rocket supply. He also worked on m

Then it was ready for a confirmation run. Tony loaded himself into his suit, pleased when it adapted to his body the way it was supposed to. He left the apartment building out of the roof access, looking at the world through the eyes of his greatest creation.

He took off to run a pass over the woods, absently muttering notes about the suits performance to himself. Jarvis wasn't there to hear him, but it helped him to remember nonetheless. After making an initial pass the inventor noted a group of large rodent creatures mulling out a bit close to one of the gates.

"Great. We've been reduced to Loiter patrol," he rolled his eyes. The suit would probably be agreeing with him. He wondered what it would addspecifically, since it always seemed to have an opinion or two to share with Annie back when she could speak for it. "Well, let's go in."

He swooped in, using the propoltion technology to blast apart a rock near the creatures, sending them scurrying. One turned like it was ready to fight, but Iron Man slammed into the ground, throwing all of his weight into a punch that killed the thing outright, then landing on one knee. The rest of the small pack seemed to take a cue from the sight and disappeared, and Tony stood, looking down at the thing.

"So. Dinner, or roadkill?" he wondered, analyzing the body with his scanners and then sliding back the faceplate of his helmet as he knelt by the creature, giving its still body a contemplative poke with one finger. "They really need to make a survival manual for this place."

Tony had finally worked himself into an apartment in the Chosen housing, though he didn't like it much. He was resolved to find himself a more suitable workspace than the small hovel as soon as possible. First, though, there were more pressing matters to attend to; the most pressing being getting his Ironman suit back to a functionality that he could work with. Without Jarvis it was difficult, and he found himself reverting many of the controls to basic, motion driven switches, but he was making headway in getting it combat ready once more. He'd repaired what he could without new materials and had figured out some improvisations that would function in this environment, and had finally got it repaired to the point that he could get in and out of it without help. That was very important, as he didn't think Banner's idea of a good night included prying open another man's rear panels and helping Tony haul the heavy suit around the apartment complex a half at a time.

Still, it was time the inventor got better tools than what he'd filched from Bruce's stash and the locals after a brief trip out of the building. He needed basic supplies and whatever he could get his hands on to keep working on the Ironman suit, and to start stockpiling so that he'd be able to scavenge for whatever projects came up when the suit was done.

Putting together a backpack he'd been given with a water bottle and a heavy set of gloves Tony left the apartment, taking a couple significant pieces of the Ironman's reactor core to prevent unauthorized opening or use. He wore a heavy sweatshirt over the Black Sabbath shirt he retained from his world and his jeans and sneakers, glad he'd at least had comfortable work clothes on him when he'd been brought to this world. The sweatshirt was something of a must, however, and he tolerated the rather badly fit option because he wanted to keep his core well hidden. Shiny, powerful looking things were just too tempting to the wrong sort of people in an environment like this, Tony knew all too well.

He headed out and down into the city, sniffing out any junk or metal vendor, looking through the selection available to him as one the of exalted "chosen" types and questioning the locals on communal suppliers, scrap heaps, and possible locations that could be converted into a better workshop.

It wasn't long before he was pulling himself along under the weight of a much heavier and full backpack, water bottle held loosely in one hand and a heavy coil of water hanging from the other, trying to decide if it was worth going back to the apartment with his current finds to start building a better tool set or if he should try to find one more shop before they closed. He assumed they would soon, as the sun was almost gone beyond the horizon. He wasn't sure he had enough parts and raw materials yet to get everything he wanted to done tonight. Then again, he had enough to make a go of it, and he still hadn't slept enough to completely recharge after the battle in New York. In his head Pepper's voice berated him for not taking better care of himself.

When it came to a potential apocalypse Faith's vote was never going to be for a rain of spiders, toads and snakes. Sure it might be ugly and dangerous but there wasn't anything for her to hit. Sitting in the back seat and waiting for something to do wasn't her style. Clean up sucked too. She might be strong but walking around smelling like she'd rolled in dead things was not Faith's style.

You know unless it was because her clothes were full of dust from taking out vampires. Then it was okay.

Soldier boy had stayed a bit to heal up and was off doing his own thing. Captain Jack was somewhere and she wasn't keeping tabs on him. Really. Boredom was not Faith's friend but she kept coming back to it here didn't she? Meditation and all that were fine in solitary but they just weren't doing the trick here.

So she grabbed a bunch of that paint thinner alcohol and sat on one of the cleaned corners to take in the world. Maybe if she got lucky one of those griffon things would land here and give her something to do.

Vrrrrrrrrrrrr!!
Vibration permeated the length of the aircraft, causing Steve’s teeth to rattle. He clenched his jaw, shifting slightly, though the bulky weight of his equipment didn’t allow him much movement. He didn’t mind. He’d been in the same position for the past seven hours, he could endure a little longer. It turned out he didn’t need to, as a voice called out from the cockpit“Captain, we’re over the dropzone sir!”

Cap’s eyes snapped open as he stood. He shuffled forward awkwardly, equipment pouches bulging along all four limbs. As loading bay door descended, Cap checked his parachute straps were secure, then his sidearm, ammunition, assault rifle, and shield were all in place. “Don’t wait up boys!” Cap yelled back toward the cockpit, as he raced down the ramp and leaped into the slipstream. HYDRA would never know what hit them.

Freezing air buffeted his face, and the only sound was that of the aircraft as it receded into the distance. Soon cold, black, silence engulfed Captain America. The odometer on his wrist lit up in dull red numbers. 45 seconds before the time to open his ‘chute. A bright point of light suddenly opened beneath him, rapidly approaching .Uh oh You didn’t spend years as an Avenger without being able to recognize a dimensional portal when it opened right beneath you. Well, at least I packed my shield... he thought to himself, as blinding white light engulfed him…

--

The light receded as quickly as it had appeared, and for a confused moment Steve thought he might simply have moved ahead in time a few hours- he was still in freefall thousands of feet in the air, though now in a bright sunlit sky. As he narrowed his eyes he recognized he was mistaken- the topography was entirely different; a ruined city spread out beneath him, surrounded by blasted wastes save for a dense forest to the north. Steve pulled the rip-cord of his parachute. He jerked in his harness as the canvas canopy opened above, bringing his plummeting descent to an abrupt halt.

He hung there in the air, the straps creaking with his weight as he decided his next course of action. Location is irrelevant, a safe landing zone is priority 1. Reaching up, he grasped for the hanging silver handles of his guide-lines, which would allow him to steer his decent with a degree of precision. His attention was wholly focused on the effort, and he did not hear the massive creature diving toward him until it was too late. A rush of claw and bone and muscle sent Steve spinning. He rocked dangerously far to his left, almost causing his parachute to collapsed. He checked his harnesses to ensure he wasn’t about to fall out of the sky, and looked around for his attacker- but it had disappeared. Steve’s eyes scanned the sky, searching desperately. There. His razor-sharp vision picked up an indistinct moving against a cloud-bank, nearly two hundred meters from him.

Snapping into action, Steve grabbed for his assault rifle from his side. He jammed the butt high against his shoulder, and pressed his eye to the telescopic sight. It was a massive, feathered creature with great wings and four limbs dangling beneath it’s muscular form. It turned, and he caught a glimpse of an orange beak and a proud, white eagle’s head. A griffon. It's a damn griff-There was a rush of air, and this time Steve’s reflexes saved him. He grabbed the parachute lines above him tightly, and pulled him body up so his head was facing the ground. An instant later, a second massive form slashed through the space he had previously occupied. It wheeled away, and Steve let himself drop back down, rocking hin his harness for a moment. Correction, two damn griffons... Steve spun his rifle around to bring it to bear on the creature, and fired a burst of rounds. The monster wasn't phased, as it pumped its wings and ascended in the air.

The other came into view on his left, and the two griffons called out to one another with high pitched shrieks. Like ballet dancers they arced gracefully through the air, crossing past one-another as they banked back toward their prey. They were about a hundred and fifty meters from, and twenty meters above, Steve- one arcing down from his right, the other to his left. He yanked his shield around onto his left arm, and rested his rifle over top of it.

One hundred meters and closing.

The three round burst caught the brown headed Griffon in a leg, and it twirled in the air as it shrieked in pain. It quickly righted itself, however, its leg dripping a trail of blood into the air.

50 and closing.

The white-headed Griffon screamed its fury, pumping its wings even faster as it sought to close the distance.

25 and closing. Adjust for wind and my own descent speed.

Steve tilted the barrel of the gun right three inches, taking the Griffon entirely out his sights. He hesitated, as a gust of the prevailing wind confirmed his decision.

Blam!

Red gore exploded out of the top of the brown griffon’s head, as he nosedived abruptly down toward the ground, leaving a trail of feathers hanging on the air. He looked up over the edge of his sight to see the other griffon was seconds away from taking him

Too close- improvise!

Dropping his rifle, Steve drew back his shield and with a roar slammed it into the oncoming creature. The two of them were entangled in a blur of flailing limbs and feathers. A talon cut one of Steve’s harness straps, and the parachute collapsed instantly, sending them both plummeting toward the ground.

His rifle was tumbling through the air next to him, still attached by a line of webbing. Steve found himself face-to-face with the massive creature, and barely brought his shield up in time to blunt a strike from its beak.“Come on you ugly bastard!” he yelled, as a pair of talons sliced across his abdomen and scraped against his rib cage.

The battle was furious and confused, as the ground became closer and closer. Out of time! Steve thought, and in a last-ditch effort he struck at the Griffon’s beak. It jerked its head at the last minute, sending it through the straps which held his shield taut to his arm. Without a moment’s hesitation, Steve seized the opportunity, and kicked off from the griffon with both feet. The two sailed apart, the griffon wheeling through the air and trying in vain to bat the shield from it’s beak as it retreated.

The ground was extremely close now, an area that seemed to be inhabited rising up toward him. He yanked at his emergency chute, and the small bunch of canvas opened above him instantly. He felt his already damaged ribs crack at the sudden jerk, and barely five seconds later he struck the ground. He was thrown forward into a roll, his considerable momentum carrying him back into the air for an instant, then sending him careening off a vehicle. He landed hard on a patch of open ground and rolled to a stop.

Steve blinked, blood was running down the side of his face, and his torso was bleeding freely. He rolled over onto his back, even though every part of him screamed with pain at the movement. He tilted his head up, looking around him. He was in an inhabited area, that much was certain, where precisely was anyone's guess. He lay his head back down on the dirt, struggling to breathe against the pain in his torso. The silhouette of a woman blocked out the sun above him, and he lifted his left hand for a salute. “Captain Steven Rogers, US Army, at your service. Pleased to meet you ma'am... ” he managed, with a wry, smile.

She was fairly certain that she'd already deja'd this vu.

And not even that long ago. And just like that time, she found herself standing in the middle of a wooded area. Great. She wasn't sure if she should hope she was back in Pylea again, or hope she'd somehow managed to sleepwalk her way into a taxi cab that dropped her off at the woods, because neither one of those things was good. And it was dark out. Which meant vampires could be roaming around freely and she didn't even have a stake.

"I don't remember seeing any portals," she mumbled, her heart beating quickly against her chest. She glanced around in the dark, trying to decide which way to start walking and trying to convince herself not to panic. Because panicking was not going to help. When she'd first arrived in Pylea, she'd freaked out, and almost instantly been attacked by...well, more like tackled and licked by the Pylean version of a dog. But at least it hadn't tried to eat her, so bonus points for that. Of course then she'd been forced into slavery...

Taking a deep breath, she decided on one direction and headed that way, unable to shake the unease that had settled upon her.

What the fuck was it with this place?

She couldn't get her damn feet under her and now she'd been politely blown off again by some guy leaving her hanging. You don't drink and kiss a gal then tell her that you don't do things until you date a while. Faith wasn't looking for dates she was looking for things that would keep her from thinking too hard about how much better it made her feel to make someone else bleed.

She'd left the pathetic excuse for a bar with a bottle of booze and after about a block slammed her fist through the corner of a brick wall with a snarl. The shower of brick dust and pieces of building flying made her feel better.

So there were vampires here but they weren't ones that Faith should probably stake. Spike seemed to be doing his own thing, although she did wonder about how he was eating, and the one called Northman seemed to be a type of vampire she wasn't familiar with and he was in that place where they had the gladiator arena.

Faith actually liked the idea of the arena. Not that she'd tell anyone that. But the idea of having a place where your whole life was as clear cut as kill or be killed was ideal to her. She was kind of alone here and that made everything all muddled. Good, bad, it was all different here and she wished she had people to talk to that understood and weren't perky.

Maybe she should check out this other city again. Faith had taken one of the flyers put up about it a while back and she carried it around folded up in her pocket. Finding a place to watch for things that might need slaying near the wall she was looking off in the distance thinking about all her options.

Faith didn't like it here.

There wasn't anything much to do unless she wanted to load up and go kill things outside. She didn't really know anyone and it wasn't like there was a convenient bar full of bikers to drink, dance and beat the hell out of.

She'd been dropped in the middle of an apocalypse of sorts and had no idea what to do about it. Faith knew some of her limitations and the big one was she was just a BFG that you should bring out and point at people. Faith didn't do leadership and inspiration.

In fact her one big mission she'd done involved poisoning herself to make sure that Angelus didn't stay out to rule the freaking world. Sure it worked but it wasn't great for job longevity. If she did something like that here what would it mean for the slayer line?

Shit.

Where were the damn brains like Wes or Giles?

Faith was interested in this overnight forest thing but she was a city girl. Magic forests were probably outside her specialty zone. So she was outside the gates looking at it but keeping her distance for now.

Sam probably shouldn't have been outside the walls on his own. In fact, Dean was probably going to kill him for that.

Assuming he made it back alive.

He hadn't seen the Netvors, though he'd heard of them. Which accounted for the blade that he was now swinging in an attempt to decapitate a few. Unfortunately, there were a lot of them. He would be able to fend at least some of them off, but he wasn't all that sure that he could fend off all of them.

Sam took a deep breath and kept swinging. He just had to focus on one at a time.

Summary: A Slayer, a Vampire, and a Demon fall through three different cracks in the world and wind up in the same wooded clearing... Mitchell's pretty sure there's a really funny joke in there somewhere. Maybe Faith can explain it to him later.

Rating: R. Already. Mitchell has an extensive vocabulary and he likes to use it. Presumably, so does Faith. Also, some gross imagery-- maybe?

( At some point, it occurred to Mitchell that he might no longer be in Purgatory. )