demonbelthazor | Confronting the Source

"I do," Piper said confidently, even though the thought of vanquishing Bel was a difficult one. "I know it's what he'd want."

"Ah, but it's you I have to thank, Piper," the Source said. "You made the potion that made it so easy for me to slip in and take over."

"I don't believe that," Piper said, though there was doubt in her voice. "You would have taken over anyway."

"It was foreseen," the Source admitted. "But you created the void in him that was just screaming to be filled."

"Enough of the frakkin' pillow talk!" Mel yelled making a wild swing at Bel with the scythe."

The Source dodged back. "Little girl with a big axe, you think you can hurt me?" he laughed.

"Got nothing else to do on a Monday night," Mel growled as she lunged at him again with the scythe. "Hell, I hear Tuesdays are the days I really need to look out for."

Bel moved back out of range, right into the crystal circle. "I'm tired of playing," he said, conjuring a fireball. "I think it's time to put an end to things."

"You've got that much right," Wyatt said, darting forward and putting the last crystal into place. Lights spray up from each crystal, forming a cage of energy around the Source.

This? Not good. The Source pressed against the boundaries of the prison, trying to find a way out, glaring at the others.

Jo frowned. "Was this supposed to turn him into a mime?"

"Oh great," Angel said, "Now he's even more annoying."

"This won't hold me!" the Source snapped, if only to prove he had a voice and was not a frakking mime.

"Wonderful," Jo said. "Not just a mime, but an incompetent one."

The Source was actually starting to get nervous now. He shed his defiant stance and looked pleadingly out of the prison. "Isabel," he called desperately. "You can't let them do this. You can't let them kill me."

Isabel crossed her arms and straightened her back. "I'd do it myself it I could. I just want my friend to be at peace," she said steadily.

"Isabel, it's me!" the Source said, reaching out as much as the prison would allow. "It's Bel! Stop them, please!"

"Bel, if it is really you, then I'm sorry. There's no other way. I've looked," Isabel said sadly. "But if this is all some sort of trick? I hope you rot in hell."

The Source glared and tried a different approach, looking over toward the group gathered around Phoebe. "Anders!" he snapped. "Come here!"

Anders's head snapped up at the sound of his name, and he took a cautious step or two forward. "If you think you can keep ordering me around like some little puppy, that's not happening any more," he said -- keeping his voice tight to suppress any shaking that might give away how he really felt.

"C'mon, Anders," the Source said, softening his tone. "This isn't right, you know it. Just come over here and let me out, and we'll figure out some other way to deal with this."

Not Bel. It's not Bel. It hasn't been for a long time.

Anders shoved his hands into his pockets so the Source couldn't see that his knuckles were white, and shook his head. "Yeah, you're right. Sneaking up on someone and trapping them isn't cool -- so why'd you think it was okay to do that to Bel, and now you're pissed that we did it to you?"

This time, he let the anger seep into his tone; that, he hoped, was his best defense right now.

The Source laughed shortly. "And now you think that killing Belthazor is fair? He was there, too, Samuel. He enjoyed it. But if you let them kill me, you're letting them kill him, too."

"Never said anything about fair," said Anders, who couldn't disguise that now his face had gone as white as his knuckles. "Being willing to sacrifice yourself for someone else's sake isn't fair, but sometimes it's right. It might be frakking stupid, but if it's the only way, it's the only way."

Then, because he didn't know what else to say without completely freaking out, he snapped, "And you? Do not get to call me Samuel!"

"This? This won't destroy me, Samuel," the Source said purposely. "My power is eternal. And I promise, you'll pay for this. All of you. But you I'll save for last."

Confronting the Source

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