[1] Family Reunion (GONE WRONG!)

For the last eighty-whatever years, Bentley had been rather peacefully enjoying her state of death. Until suddenly, after a lifetime of silence, a singular voice broke through the veil.

"Get up. You're needed again,"

As if waking her up wasn't rude enough, the disembodied voice floating in the void also had to be commanding her to do something. The audacity.

But that stupid voice was filled with some awful power —More powerful than herself, and certainly too powerful to ignore. So Bentley's peace and quiet had very abruptly come to an end as she found herself suddenly back in her old body, and rising from the earth in which she was buried. All while under the gaze of some unknown force that had decided it was necessary to bring her back.

After blasting her way out of her old grave, she was met with a blinding ray of sunlight directly in her eyes. If she had been a more romantic-type of creature, seeing the warm, life-giving sun after so many years in darkness would have been a cause to celebrate. However, Bentley was no such person, instead growing increasingly annoyed. If it had been up to her, she would have turned around and climbed right back into that deep dirty hole. Who cared about the stupid sun?

However, crawling back into her grave was not an option. Because she was not alone.

"Welcome back, Bentley," Said a gentle and unsurprised voice. It would have sounded human, but there was some sort of ringing hidden behind it, like a little ceramic bell was speaking the words with the person. It was too ethereal to be anything mortal.

"..."

A little while later, she wandered down the main street of Jericho Washington, trying desperately to remember what had happened.

She had been dead. That much was certain, and she had been brought back for a mission from on high... or somewhere. But how long had she been dead for? And why did the world look so different now? She had spoken to the one who had raised her from the dead briefly, which is why she was in the United States. But when had she died? Why had she died?

And why exactly was she brought back? Out of all the deceased demons in the world, why was Bentley Hellbourne the only one to be resurrected? Stupid decision, really.

There was a lot different about the world. The smell of humans had changed. That was the first thing Bentley noticed while walking among them. They smelled more like chemical solutions than ever, although the lack of cigarette smoke was an improvement. And there was a lot more artificial light, which did not help her still-sensitive eyes —especially since it was all coming from screens and boxes everywhere that the newly risen Bentley had never seen before. And the cars —at least she assumed they were cars, were all round and quiet and nothing like the big boxy things she remembered them being.

After observing the new world for as long as she could stand, Bentley decided on something. She had to find out what year it was and why the world looked like a mixture between a twisted nuclear-family-dream and a depressing dystopian novel. Once she knew what year it was, she could figure out more or less what had happened across the four realms since her death.

A calendar visible through a shop window gave her an answer. It was May 2026. Eighty five years had passed. And to Bentley, that was hardly any time at all. She had witnessed empires rule unchallenged and unchanged for much longer, and yet this small community surrounding her was the most technologically advanced society she had ever seen. What the hell had happened? Another industrial revolution??

Before she could think about it for much longer, a sudden high-pitched ringing filled her ears. It was painfully annoying, which only made the message of it clearer:

You have a job to do, remember?

She wished her current employer had less obnoxious methods of communication, however when dealing in the business of beings even more divine than herself, there was rarely a choice in the matter.

Whoever had lifted Bentley from death had so far not revealed their identity to her. But if they were powerful enough to bring her back, they were probably worth listening to. And they held no hostile energy that she could sense, which made them more trustworthy. So she had decided to just roll with the mission she had been given. It wasn't like she had anything better to do anyway.

"Alright, alright. No need to shout," She told the ringing. It stopped as quickly as it had begun. "Excuse me for wanting to take a look around after you pulled me from the crust of the Earth. I don't even wanna be here anyway,"

Truthfully, she shouldn't have been there. She was dead, and therefore belonged with the dead. There was nothing in the realm of the living for her anyway. Why did that old ringing bastard have to revive her? Stupid mission. Stupid life. Stupid everything.

Once she was done muttering to herself, Bentley continued down the street. Maybe it was best if she didn't allow herself to be entranced by this new version of the world too much. She wasn't planning on staying anyway. As soon as she was done her mission, she was crawling back into that grave whether or not that dumb ringing voice wanted her to.

Because although she couldn't remember how she had died, she had remembered the first emotion that ran through her head after nearly a century of inactivity —plain and simple dread. And if she had somehow managed to have died in the first place, that meant the world was probably better of if she stayed dead.

But dying would have to wait. Because she had a job to do, and to do that, she had to find someone. And she needed to figure out who that someone was, first.

However, instead of finding that someone, she was met with something rather unexpected. As she wandered aimlessly down the streets of Jericho, a sudden blazing symbol appeared in the air in front of her, unseen by any of the passing mortals. Immediately, Bentley was startled into action. Not only was it a distress signal from one of her fellow demons, the sigil that was sent out happened to be the one belonging to her own brother. Of course, this was too much of a coincidence. And Bentley couldn't just sit by if Xander was in trouble, so she followed the sigil until it led her to where she was right now.

—Getting questioned by Xander about everything and anything, whilst also testing the waters of modern fashion, as her 1940's getup had lost it's taste after all these years.

He had always thought privately —when he had nothing better to think about— that Bentley miraculously finding a way back from the dead would somehow make his life better. That it would be a joyous occasion during which she would trample all political issues that had arisen from her ashes. But so far, this lasting interaction he was having with her was more frustrating than anything.

By the time he had finished listening to his sister recounting her resurrection, Xander had already completed two entire bottles of pure vodka and watched her filter through seven different outfits. None of which she had liked. The alcohol, was unfortunately not helping Xander's headache, yet he drank anyway. Maybe if he downed an entire brewery he would be able to get his mind out of mayhem. But so far nothing was working.

"So what do they want you to do? —Whoever brought you back," He asked.

"Find some people, stop the war,"

She suddenly frowned at the mirror she had acquired and spun around, magically transforming her clothing into a completely different outfit. It was still red, of course, as was undeniably the Bentley way.

"What war?" Xander asked.

"The one between Heaven and Hell. What other one is there?"

"There are always a few among the creatures of the Earth." Xander looked up from his bottle. "So that means the war is going to continue again?"

"It stopped?"

"Yes. It was put on pause because you died. What's going to spark the war this time?"

"You tell me,"

The pouch, which had become a fairly common topic of discussion, landed beside Xander with a ringing thud. It had fallen out of seemingly nowhere, thus making his heart leap into his throat. Remembering what it had done to the angel, Xander jumped up from his seat, just to put distance between him and 'it'.

"Jesus—!" He started.

Bentley didn't even look at him. She was occupied with a long leather belt which wouldn't hold onto her waist properly. Frowning at her reflection, she twisted it around her body a couple times.

"What's in the bag?" She asked,

"It's a soul fragment,"

Bentley snorted.

"Yeah right, nobody's soul is powerful enough to make an angel evaporate like that,"

She was right, of course, but Xander wasn't quite sure he wanted to tell her the truth yet. He knew that this Bentley was real, but he didn't know if she was the same as the one he had known before. Or if her intentions were still airing on the side of good. He paused for a second, considering all the risks of telling her —Until he remembered that if Heaven already knew about it, there was no real point in hiding it anyway. The enemy already knew, so no matter Bentley's intentions, they wouldn't be any worse than the angels'.

So he took a deep breath.

"It's God's soul," he told her.

Hearing this, Bentley froze. Her eyes stayed on the mirror and she seemed to short circuit for just a moment. Then she just resumed fumbling with her belt. When she spoke again, Xander wasn't even sure if what he had said had made it through at all or if she had disregarded him completely.

"I like leather, but I'm not sure how I feel about this belt. What do you think?"

"Did you hear what I just said?"

She continued to ignore him. This time, by spinning around and changing into another outfit.

"That's better," She told her reflection.

"Bentley!"

"Yes. God's soul?" Xander couldn't tell whether she was actually not interested in such a dangerous phenomenon, or whether she was up to another one of her tricks, "Okay, where did you find that?"

"A mine in Bolivia," He explained, "I was supposed to take it back to Hell, but Camael and her angels jumped me,"

"So that thing..." Bentley shot the pouch a brief and unaffected glance, "It's worth restarting the war, then?"

Xander shook his head.

"Ever since you died, Heaven has been trying to restart the war. They jump at any opportunity to spark conflict again,"

"Well I see their concern," She nodded towards the 'it'. "If that thing is powerful enough to kill an angel—"

"It's powerful enough to kill anything." Xander sat back down, although his body was very aware of the terrifying force of ethereal power sitting innocently beside him. "What you saw was just the tip of the iceberg. If wielded properly, that thing could wipe out armies at a time,"

"Alright." Something in Bentley's tone was ominously passive-aggressive, "So what does Hell plan to do with that kind of power?"

"We were just trying to keep it away from Heaven so they don't use it against us. Nobody in Hell would ever dream of ending the war like that,"

"Hm,"

"Bentley, you believe me, right?"

But once again, Bentley was infatuated with her reflection. This time, she actually seemed impressed with the outfit she had created for herself.

"The fishnets really do it for me. Human fashion has gotten so much... sexier!"

She giggled at her own reflection and toyed with her clothes playfully.

An outsider watching the two demons talk to each other may believe that this was a particularly interesting encounter, given the contrast between the two individuals' personalities and the subject matter of their conversation. One laughing and playing with her reflection, and the other drinking cheap vodka directly from the bottle and looking very much like he would rather be dead than here in the garbage-scented alley. However, this was how nearly all the interactions between Xander and Bentley had been for over a thousand years. And the former, despite the temporary hiatus in these encounters, was quite tired. Though he loved his sister dearly, she was an honest to God pain in the ass.

"Eighty-five years of waiting for you to come back..." Xander rested the cool mouth of the bottle against his own, "This is what I'm greeted with,"

Then he drank. And he didn't stop until the entire bottle was dry and the last drop had landed onto his pierced tongue. Bentley watched him through the mirror, her expression a cocktail of amusement and guilt. Then when he was done, she turned around and looked at him properly. Now her face was more serious than it had been for the entire conversation.

"Xander..." She started, "All those years ago... what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"How did I die?"

She had mentioned that her memory was damaged after she came back to life. But Xander was surprised she hadn't even made a lucky guess yet. He didn't like recounting her death to anyone because it wasn't something he liked to remember. However, if he didn't tell her, she would find out some other way, and there was no guarantee that another demon's account would be as accurate as his own. So he took a deep breath, got to his feet and started the story.

The two Hellbournes began to walk back towards the main street of the city. He told her what she needed to know. There were some parts he left out, mostly because she didn't need them, or they were too painful to recall. Xander figured it would be better if he kept it simple anyway. The basic facts. Where she died, how she died, and most importantly, who killed her.

This last fact seemed to surprise her the most.

"Atticus?" She asked, genuinely surprised, "The angel? Are you sure?"

"You really don't remember?"

Bentley shook her head.

"He told me he'd kill me eventually, but I wouldn't think he'd actually do it,"

"He hated your guts. Why are you surprised?" She still seemed skeptical so he elaborated, "Bentley, we all saw your death. It was very public."

"And you guys really loved me enough to stop the war for me?"

Her smile was so falsely innocent that it made Xander want to run his head through a brick wall.

"I'm going insane, aren't I?" He said.

"As if any of us were sane to begin with,"

"So are you going to try and find him now that you've been revived?"

Xander's question made her stop walking suddenly. She considered it for a moment, then shook her head.

"No." Her voice was confident. "Even if I wanted to give Atticus a good ol' slap across his haloed head, I feel like going through all the trouble of breaking into heaven to find him just wouldn't be worth it,"

Xander snorted.

"Well that's easy enough," He said, "Atticus isn't in heaven anymore,"

"What??"

Bentley stared at her brother in disbelief. Finally this conversation was taking an amusing turn.

"Atticus left heaven years ago,"

"What?? Why?"

"Nobody knows," Xander shrugged, "I guess he didn't like all the attention he got from killing you,"

He paused, waiting for Bentley to come up with some smartass comment, but she was genuinely intrigued. This was reasonable, they were still discussing her death after all. So Xander just nodded and continued.

"Even though they signed a peace agreement with us, Heaven still wanted to reward him,"

"Of course they did," Bentley muttered bitterly.

"But here's the thing. When they asked him what he wanted, Atticus said that the only thing he wanted was a break. He changed his form, his lifestyle, relocated to Earth, everything,"

"He's on Earth?" She asked, "Where??"

Xander just shrugged.

He continued walking at the same speed, but Bentley slowed down. She was thinking.

...