Faithful Departed
By Buffyfire

Disclaimer: I don't own these people, except, as always, for Kayla. She's all mine. HAHAHAHA! Oh...sorry. Anyway, the rest are the property of Joss Whedon.

Part 1

"Yo, Hade, we got another."

Detective Joseph Hade, of the LAPD, looked up from his paperwork and asked his partner, "Where?"

"About a mile south from here, out by Hemry."

Hade stood quickly and grabbed his jacket, as a quick pang of fear hit, "A student?"

"Nah, older guy, probably one of the parents," answered Tom Keller, Hade's partner of three years, as he followed him through the police station.

Hade breathed a quick sigh of relief; his daughter went to Hemry.

"Do we have a name?" he asked as he started the engine of his black Dodge Neon.

"There were two. We have one professional gardener-slash-actor named Richard Larsen."

"And the other?"

"They didn't give me the name, but they'll tell us when we get there."

"Where were they found?"

"Larsen was found outside his house. The other made a run for it; got about a block away before they got him, too."

"So, what are they telling the local press and the families."

"The press is making up their own story. I think they're telling the families it was a serial killer."

"At least they're not lying," Hade replied with a shrug.

They arrived at the scene and drove around for awhile in all the confusion and clutter before finding a place to park.

"Hey Mick," said Keller to the nearest police officer, "what'd they do with that second stiff?"

"He's still over there," said the rookie.

The three men headed toward the dead man who lay face up in the gutter. There was a huge gash on his forehead, but it didn't bleed; it couldn't. His right hand and foot were propped up on the curb and his head was turned to the left, making visible the wounds that were on his neck.

"Anything unusual?" asked Hade.

"No, he's just like the others. Does he have a name?"

"Give me a second."

Mick pulled the radio from his belt and turned around, talking quietly into it. When he turned back, he said, "Summers, Henry James Summers, he's a local."

"Married?"

"Divorced, his daughter lives with his ex-wife in Sunnydale."

"Have they been notified?"

"No, we're still trying to get his sister to come down and identify him, herself."

"Alright, tell me when she gets here."

Still in her haze, she asked, "Did you kill them?"

"Yes," he said, informatively in a low voice.

"Why?"

"Because, child, you've been chosen," was his reply. This lengthened phrase brought out the beautiful Irish accent that his voice held.

"Why me?" she asked, blankly.

"Does it matter?" he countered, practicality in his voice.

"I guess not. If not me, you would have chosen someone else, but why did you kill my father if I was chosen?"

"Others are never so curious."

"Sorry," she waited a little while before asking, "When will you come for me?"

"You have one week. I'll stay here for three days, then come to where you are. When I get there, I'll kill the second."

"Do I know the second?"

"Very well?"

"Will you do this to all of them?"

When the man didn't reply, she continued with, "Is there anything I can do?"

"Nothing."

"Can I run?"

"You can, but it won't do you any good. Your friends will die and I WILL find you. I can smell anything you've touched for up to ten miles and your scent will stay on an object for three weeks, making you very easy to track. Also if that fails, I can hear your voice for twenty miles. Your only way out of this is death."

"If I die first, will you still kill them?"

"I'll have no reason to. You, my dear, are the obligation."

"Don't," she said vacantly.

"I have to."

"No, don't say 'my dear,' that's a term of affection, it's meant for people who care," after a moment of silence, she asked, "Is this a dream?"

"It is for you, not for them. Well, child, I should be off, I'll return you to your previous dream. It was a good one, wasn't it?"

Buffy gave a soft smile and nodded.

"What was it?"

"My wedding day," her voice breathed.

The man smiled with her and answered, "Enjoy your dream, my dear, for it's something you will never live."

A moment later, Buffy was returned to the elaborate church that she'd been in before. She was dressed in a white gown, her hair was adorned with flowers and her fingers were tightly woven in between Angel's. She'd had this dream a thousand times, but it had never felt like this before, it was never so uneasy. The priest was saying something, but her attention was elsewhere. Angel suddenly pulled her close and covered her mouth with his own. After that, Buffy was herself again.

"What did you find?" asked an accented voice, from the doorway.

Willow turned back to find that Kayla was now present in the library with her. This was not the first time that Kayla had shown up unexpected like this. It wasn't something that anyone appreciated, but no one had the effrontery or the guts to tell her so.

"This," she pointed to the computer as Kayla pulled up a chair, "I stumbled onto a vampire posting board."

Kayla's expression seemed to say, "Come on, be honest."

"Fine, I hacked my way into it," Willow admitted, almost shamefully.

"Nevertheless, you're on."

"Yup."

"So, why did you say 'wow'?"

"Oh, well, what was wow-worthy, is this post. A vampire was hired to kill someone. He and his friends went after this guy and the guy killed three of the four vampires who sought to kill him, before falling victim to the fourth.'"

"Since when do old men kill vampires?"

"Since now, I guess, but it happened in LA, so anything's possible."

"Does it say his name?"

"No, but I bet the police would have it."

They exchanged clandestine smiles, then Willow dug in. She found her way onto the police department's web site, but refused to go further when she heard the double doors of the library swing open. Fearing it was Giles, who adamantly disapproved of her hacking for any reason but necessary research, she nearly shut it off.

She breathed a long sigh of relief when she heard Xander's voice call out, "Kayla, when did you become a member of the dawn patrol?"

"I had trouble sleeping," she answered.

Willow turned back to see Xander hand Kayla a paper cup with the Starbucks logo on it. She took a long drink and thanked him.

"You too, huh?" asked Buffy, "I woke up after a really weird dream."

"What did you dream?" asked Kayla, suddenly becoming interested.

Giles entered the room at that moment and said, "Well, this is it."

Buffy took a sip of her coffee and said thoughtfully, "YeahÉour last day. Should we be celebrating?"

"We should be," said Willow, trying to look strong, though her demeanor went to sadness, "I'm really gonna miss this."

Xander put his arm around her neck and said, "It's not so bad, Will."

"Yeah," said Buffy, "we'll still be together. We're starting college, remember?"

"This will always be open to you," said Giles, in reference to the room that they inhabited.

"It won't be the same."

"Yeah," said Xander, "but hey, cest 'la vie, right?"

"Do you even know what that means?" Buffy asked.

"Willow, what are you working on?" asked Giles, completely ignoring them and focusing his attention on the LAPD background on the screen.

"I read about a guy who was killed by vampires in LA."

"Yes, there are vampires in Los Angeles, you know."

"I know," said Willow, giving her "no duh" look, "what's interesting about this is that he killed three vampires before he got killed."

"Oh, that is interesting."

"What was his name?" asked Buffy intently.

"That's what I'm trying to find out, why, what's wrong?" Willow asked.

"I had a dream like that."

"That's right, you were about to tell us," said Kayla.

"Exactly like that," Buffy continued, as though Kayla had negver spoken, "It was weird, it was like a dream in a dream, only when as soon as the second dream was over, the first one picked up again."

Kayla's expression turned to concern, "What was the middle dream?"

"My dad was fighting vampires, but he got killed There was this guy standing next to me, saying that he was coming for me."

"Did he say when?" Kayla nearly yelled it.

Buffy answered hesitantly, "He said that I had a week. I must have gone through my dream dictionary six times, I still don't know what it means."

Kayla felt slightly relieved when the bell rang. She said to them, "I have a theory, but wait until lunch, I'll tell you then. For now, get to class."

"If something happened to my dad, I want to know," said Buffy.

"I'll tell you at lunch," Kayla repeated, sternly.

"Well, this day is off to a great start." With that, Buffy grabbed her things and headed out the door with Xander and Willow right behind her.

"What's your theory?" Giles asked her unhappy expression.

"I'll have to hear more about this dream. Giles, I think she's been chosen by a Temblar."

"A Temblar? Isn't that a bit drastic?"

"Why would it be? As far as I know, they pick their victims at random and their numbers have been increasing."

"I don't know, Kayla, it all seems very unlikely."

"Giles, she had the dream."

"Yes, I know of the infamous dream, but I never quite understood its workings."

"A Temblar will show its victim the first death."

"I don't understand."

"It's the first person in their victim's life that they kill. The victim sees them die, then talks briefly with the Temblar about the death."

"They see the death as it happens?"

"Sometimes, or, if the Temblar is powerful enough, it can show a death before it happens, how it intends it."

"You seem to know a lot about it."

"A friend of mine was hunted by a Temblar."

"If that's true, then you would have been hunted, as well."

"Yes, and I was," Kayla was quiet for a moment, "Giles, do you know why I escaped into that accursed statue?"

"We were told that your townspeople trying to kill you."

"Did Angel tell you that? There's quite a bit that he doesn't know about that night. My friend, the one who was hunted, had a dream about me, in which I was being burned by our people. She stood next to a dark haired woman as it happened. Neither of us knew what to think of her dream until the woman arrived in town a few nights later. This was her Temblar, though if you saw her, you wouldn't have guessed. She was sick and pale. Most Temblars spend so much energy trying to track their victim that they have to wait a few days before they attack. Then, they'll stay in one place and rest until they choose another victim. In fact, because she was so weak, she sent her companion to spy on us, this wickedly blonde vampire wench. I didn't like her, hated the way she looked at me.

"We were lucky when the Temblar took ill. She died shortly afterwards and that was when I had to leave."

"If it was gone-"

"A Temblar never dies without taking a piece of its prey to the grave with it. If it dies before it kills its victim, it will take one of their loved ones, if not them, in the same manner it died. If you think I'd give up my entire life, that I'd leave my family because of those sniveling cowards, who should be ashamed to call themselves men, you are sadly mistaken, sir."

"How can we protect her?"

"It's not a question of protecting her. This man will kill everyone around her before it even thinks of going after her."

"It'll be weak, we can kill it."

"You don't kill a Temblar, Giles. It dies when fate decides to kill it," Kayla sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Are you positive that this is accurate? Who's to say that this wasn't just a dream?"

"And who's to say it was? All I know is that she had a dream very similar to the one my friend had. She talked to him directly, then, in a flash, was back to her first dream."

"It hasn't happened, though. If Buffy's father had indeed been killed, she wouldn't be here. Someone would-" Giles stopped when the phone in his office rang, "one moment."

He stepped into his office and picked up the receiver of his telephone. Kayla sat on the table and watched him through the window. She saw the way face grew pale as he listened, and how he swallowed hard before he answered quietly. His hands shook as he put down the phone and left his office.

"Will you hide again?" he asked, not looking directly at her, but more off to the side at some random object, "Will you find another statue and escape?"

Kayla sighed, and turned her gaze to the floor, "I ran to save my family," she looked back up at him, "The Temblar died, but not before destroying my reputation in town. On the night of her death, she told someone that I'd cursed her and made her sick. Word got out and people began to talk of witchery. I was accused, giving me all the more reason to leave. If they'd found me there, they would have killed, not only me, but Angel and Catherine as well."

"On what grounds?"

"You'd have to know these people. They were never happier than when they were your typical angry mob, waving torches and pitchforks."

"So, would you stay?"

"Yes, though it would be in all of your best interest to leave. Why do you ask?"

"I was just on the phone with Buffy's mother. You were right, her father was killed last night."

A small gasp from just outside the door turned their heads. Giles, with one hand in his pocket, walked slowly to the door and opened it, knowing, full well, what he would find. Buffy sat on the floor, her arms wrapped around her legs, and her head resting on her knees. Giles knelt down next to her and said softly, "Your mother should be here in an hourÉI'm sorry, Buffy."

He placed a hand on her back and rubbed it lightly as she shook violently. She lifted her head and looked down the hall, allowing him to see the red of her face and the tears on her cheeks. Giles pulled her close and held her as she began to sob. Before she allowed herself to get comfortable, she shoved him away and ran down the hall.

Buffy ran out the main door, down the stairs and through the parking lot. When she could run no longer, she found that she had run herself to the park. She continued on, after that, walking as fast as she could, but not quite sure of where she was going. She didn't stay in the park long, she found it lonely and quiet. She wanted to scream out all of her pain, but she knew that the park was not the place to do it. As soon as she caught her breath, she began to run again. This time when she stopped, she found herself at the edge of Crawford Street. She walked down it, inevitably stopping at the mansion. When she stepped inside, she did all she could to calm herself down, so as not to wake Angel with her incessant wailing. Her efforts proved in vain when he stepped groggily from his bedroom.

"What's wrong?" he asked, upon seeing her red eyes. She didn't answer him, but only cried harder. She approached him slowly and leaned her head against his chest. He wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly.

The teacher's speech was halted by a rap on the door. Giles felt thirty pairs of eyes upon him as he entered the room and whispered something to the teacher.

"Xander, Willow, your company is requested in the library."

They packed up their things; Xander, unnoticed by the teacher, grabbed Buffy's bag on the way out.

"What's going on?" asked Willow, as they walked through the quiet, vacant halls of Sunnydale High School.

"Buffy's dream has become a tragic reality," Giles answered.

"Her dad?" Xander asked in shock.

"Killed by vampires last night."

"Oh, my God!" said Willow, her eyes welling with tears. Although she'd been able to hold back her emotions thus far, this new information was a bit more than she could handle.

"She ran off, I assume she went home."

"Well, what about the other part of the dream?" asked Xander, "You know, the creepy messenger of death part."

"Also true, but I think I should allow Kayla to explain that. She knows a thing or two about it."

When they reached the library, Kayla told them of her experience with a Temblar. By the end, Willow was loudly sobbing in her seat.

"We'll be first?" asked Xander to recap.

Kayla nodded and said, "Remember, all of you, that no one is forcing you to stay."

"No," said Willow angrily, "we just let it have her."

"What can we do?" asked Xander.

"We fight it like we always do," Willow answered him sensibly.

"Many have tried," said Kayla, "the only way we all survive is through an extreme stroke of luck."

"Excuse me," said a voice at the door.

All heads turned to see that Joyce was now in the room. Her hair was disheveled and her eyes were red to indicate that she'd been crying heavily. She continued in a raspy voice, "Where's Buffy? I was supposed to pick her up."

"She didn't go home?" asked Giles.

"No, did you send her home?" a slight tone of malice entering Joyce's voice.

"She ran out of here awhile back, where else would she go?"

"Maybe Angel's," suggested Willow.

"Angel? Are they back together?" Giles asked Willow.

"They just got off a break," she answered, "I didn't think you were so far out of the loop."

"Well, I slip sometimes when people refuse to fill me in."

Now, in utter confusion, he pondered what could be wrong with her. He'd asked her continually, but with each inquiry, her sobs only became harder. He eventually stopped asking and just held her until she was asleep.

His pondering ceased when the phone on his nightstand suddenly began to scream, shattering the silence. He felt Buffy's body suddenly jump, so he grabbed the receiver quickly before she woke up.

"Hello?" he said quietly into the receiver.

Buffy, who was wide awake, listened intently to Angel's half of the conversation: "Yeah, she's here, what happened to-ÉOh GodÉno, she wouldn't say a word, she just criedÉno, she's asleep nowÉshe wants to pick her up now?"

"Tell her I'm walking," said Buffy revealing her mental awareness.

"No, I don't want you walking alone," he said, taking the phone from his head.

"I don't want to get picked up," she looked at him pleadingly as she answered.

"Are you sure about this?"

She nodded and lay her head back down on his chest.

Angel went back to the phone, "She says she wants to walkÉI can'tÉnoÉ" he turned back to her, "your mom doesn't want you to walk, either."

"Is she there?"

"She's at the library."

"GodÉtell her I'll be home soon, I just don't want to deal with her yet."

"She says she'll be home soon, she just needs some time aloneÉshe's not staying here. You're not staying here, right?"

"I'm leaving," she said getting up from the bed.

"She'll be out of here soonÉ" he said into the phone, "Well, she doesn't want to get picked upÉnoÉalrightÉyeahÉbye."

He got up and headed out to the living room, only to find it empty. Buffy was long gone.

Part 2

That night, Joyce sat nervously on her couch. Buffy had come home at around noon and gone straight to her room without saying a word. In mid-afternoon, Joyce brought her daughter a snack. Buffy lay on the bed, facing away from her mother, not seeing that she was there and ignoring her pleading words. Hours later, the food was cold, Buffy was in the tub, and Joyce had gotten back into her childhood habit of biting her nails. The sudden knock on the door didn't help her nerves.

She left the comfort of the couch and opened the front door. Finding Angel on the other side, she said, "Thank God, it's you, get in here."

"What's wrong?" he asked Joyce as she pulled him inside.

"She won't talk to me. Willow called a few hours ago, she didn't even try to pick up the phone. I'm getting really scared."

"Where is she now?"

"In the tub," Joyce answered, heading up the stairs.

"How long has she been in there?" he asked, following her.

Joyce stopped, distress filling her face as she replied, "A long time."

"Have you tried opening the door?" he asked as they continued their ascension.

"She locked the door, I can't get in. I was hoping you could convince her to open it. God, I hope she's okay in there."

"We'll see."

"I was hoping for something more comforting than that."

"Sorry, but right now, that's the best that I've got."

When they reached the bathroom, Joyce sat down against the wall next to the door. Angel tapped the door lightly with his knuckle and said, "Buffy? Are you in there?"

Silence.

"Buffy? Look, I just want to talk to you. Can you open the door? I know, you don't want to talk to me and you don't have to. You don't have to say a word, I just want to see you. I need to know for myself that you're alright. I want to take a look at my girlfriend, my lover, the person that I adore more than anything in this world and I want to make sure that she's okay, that she's aliveÉthat I'm not gonna lose her to herself."

Still, there was no response.

"Please, Buff," he pleaded again, "just let me see you."

Angel was in a tense silence as he waited for Buffy to answer. Joyce, by now, was crying uncontrollably with her head pressed to her knees. The only thing that made her stop was the click of the lock on the door next to her. She locked eyes with Angel for a second, then stood quickly.

"Let me do this," he said.

"But-"

"Trust me, Joyce, I can get her out, but I need you to wait downstairs."

"She may not even be wearing anything. At least let me go in and put a towel around her."

Angel sighed and said, "I know this is gonna throw me completely out of all good graces you may have had for me, but, really, it's nothing I haven't seen."

"Oh, God," she exclaimed as what he was saying hit her, "Look, just get her out."

"I will."

Angel waited until Joyce was completely out of sight, then entered the bathroom. Her prediction had been correct; Buffy sat naked in the tub with her legs pulled tightly to her chest. Her hair, which was still slightly wet, lay uncombed and scraggily on her shoulders.

Angel sat behind her and dipped his hand into the water. It had lost all warmth, telling him that she had, indeed, been there from some time.

"The water's cold," he told her, "Do you want me to get it warm again?"

She shook her head and continued to stare at the faucet, which was right in her view.

Angel scooped up some of the water with his hand and poured it slowly down her back. He did this a few times, then rubbed the soft skin of her back. He pushed all of her hair to her left side and gently massaged her extremely tense shoulders.

She closed her eyes and sniffed a couple of times, as he worked on her neck. After a few minutes, she began to lean toward him and rested her head on his shoulder. He took his hands from her shoulders and enveloped her in his arms, comfortingly.

Buffy soon found that she could no longer control herself. Her body shook as he stroked her hair and kissed her head. With every kiss, she found herself slipping farther and farther from the indifference that she had resolved herself to. Within minutes, she was, once again, bawling.

"Your skin is freezing," he said.

"I know," she whispered.

"You wanna get out, now?"

Buffy gulped and breathed, "Yes."

"Okay, wait here," he said, planting another kiss on the side of her head, "I'll be right back."

"Don't!" she said, quickly.

"What?"

"Don't leaveÉjust help me to my room."

"I was gonna get you a towel."

"There's one under the sink."

Keeping one arm tightly around her, he used the other to open the cabinet under the sink and pull out a large, white towel. Buffy pushed away from him and stood up, crossing her arms in attempt to cover herself and keep warm. Angel handed her the towel, which she wrapped tightly around herself, as though it was a dress, then helped her out of the tub.

"Are you gonna be alright?" he asked, "Will you make it through the night?"

Buffy took a moment to breathe heavily, then said, "Yeah."

"I think you should get some sleep."

After another long moment, "Stay with me?"

"Buffy-"

"Please, Angel," she interrupted quickly, "I need to hang onto something right now and lately, the pillow just hasn't been cutting it."

He brushed some hair from her face and gently said, "Alright, I'll stay for awhile."

Angel pulled a blanket over her, as she moved to make room for him. Joyce watched only a second longer, then went back downstairs.

It was three hours later when Angel finally came down. He entered the kitchen where he found Joyce drinking a large mug of coffee. She looked up at him, expecting him to say something.

"She's asleep," he told her.

Joyce nodded, "Good, she needs it. Did she cry much more?"

Angel opened the left side of his jacket to show her the giant wet spot that Buffy's tears had made on his shirt. Joyce gave a half smile to it, then gestured for him to join her at the table. After he'd taken a seat to her right, she asked, "So, exactly how long have you two been seeing each other?"

Angel hesitated, knowing where this conversation would lead. He answered, "A while now."

"I should have just asked, how long have you been-"

"A little over a year," he interrupted.

"Oh," said Joyce, not feeling better, "you two have been on and off quite a bit, haven't you?"

"We've had our scuffs, but we've gotten through them."

"I only ask because I don't think she'd tell me. She doesn't talk to me at all, not even about this. To let you know, you're not completely out of my good graces. One of the reasons that I haven't kicked you out yet is because if she doesn't talk to you, I'm afraid that she won't talk to anyone."

"She hasn't talked to me about this," he admitted.

"What?"

"She cried for a couple of hours, then fell asleep."

Worry suddenly overtaking her face, Joyce absorbed this information. She put her fingers in her hair and breathed out some tension.

"Can I ask you something?" said Angel.

"Hmm?"

"What happened to him?"

Joyce sighed and asked, "Do you want some coffee?"

"No, no thanks," he replied.

She stood from the table and filled her own cup, saying, "Well, this is the hard part, the really hard part," she sat down and, looking down at her mug, said, "He was murdered. They found him not far from his house missing his wallet and watch, so they assume that he was mugged. The police haven't found the killer."

"Does Buffy know this?" he asked.

She shook her head, "I haven't had the chance to tell her, she won't even stay in the same room with me."

Suddenly, a voice form the hallway piped up, "It's not true," then Buffy appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. She continued, "That's not what happened, the police don't know the truth."

"Buffy, what are you doing?" Angel asked her intensely.

"She should know."

"Know what?" Joyce inquired of them both.

Before Buffy could answer, Angel was out of his seat and pulling her from the room.

"Don't do this," he said firmly, when they reached the hallway.

"She has to know what really happened. She has the right to. He may come for her next."

"Now is not the time."

"Then when? When he gets here? When he's already decided that she should be the next to go? When he's knocking down my door after he's through with her?" Buffy's voice, by now, was coming through in a hoarse cry, "She has to know. If it kills her, she should at least know why."

"Hold off on this, wait until tomorrow. We'll get everyone here and we'll tell her then, we'll tell her everything, together."

"Why not now?"

"Because to the untrained ear, what we have to say is crazy. I don't want to get here tomorrow and find out that she's had you committed or something."

"She wouldn't do that."

"She'll think you're delusional. Buffy, please wait on this."

Buffy turned her face from him and took in some calming breaths. When she met him again, she said, "Fine, but I want everyone here. We should all be in the same place, we'll be safer if we stick together."

"That's a good idea. I'll call everyone tomorrow, but you go back to bed."

Buffy was insulted, "I'm not a child, don't tell me what to do."

"Would you rather stay up?"

Buffy was silent for a second, then said, "I'm going back to bed."

Angel watched her go up the stairs, then returned to the kitchen.

"What was that all about?" asked Joyce.

He sat down, "You'll find out tomorrow."

"Look," she said, annoyed, "I can't deal with a cryptic message right now, I need you to tell me."

"JoyceÉI can't, I can't betray her like that," after receiving only a hard stare in reply, he beseeched, "Please, don't ask me to."

She let up and looked back to her half-empty coffee mug, "No, that wouldn't be right, would it? It's only a day, I suppose I can waitÉbut is there anything at all you can tell me?"

Angel thought for a second, then said, "You won't see it coming. Of everything she could tell you, this is the last thing you'd expect."

"Oh," Joyce looked rather troubled, "I just wish she would talk to me."

"She will, she just needs time."

"You seem to know something about this."

Angel paused, "I lost my parents when I wasn't much older than Buffy."

"I'm sorry, this must bring back memories, huh?"

"Some, but it was awhile ago."

"What happened to them, if you don't mind me asking?"

"The same thing that happened to your ex-husband."

"Oh, God."

"I think I can relate to Buffy more now, than I ever have before."

"You've been where she is, now," Joyce replied, then looked down at her watch, "I didn't realize how late it was. I should be getting to bed."

"Then, I guess, I'll see you tomorrow," he answered, rising from the table.

Before he was out of the room, Joyce said, "Angel, do me a favor and set my poor motherly mind at ease. You two don't have a night of the week picked out or anything, do you?"

Angel took a step back into the room and said, "You want me to really put your mind at ease?"

"If you could."

"In January, we went on a break, which didn't end until May. The last we made love was two months before that. That's about eight months."

"Nothing's happened since you two got back together?"

"We decided that this time we're gonna take things a bit slower. We think it'll help us in the long run."

"You're persistent."

"I love her and if slowing down will save our relationship, I'm more than willing to do it."

"You know, I've never seen her so dedicated to someone. Before she started seeing you, Buffy was the kind of girl to have a guy on each arm and three following behind. Now, even when you two are on a break, she doesn't even think about it. Has she told you that she loves you?"

Angel nodded.

"Well," said Joyce, "I'll be honest with you, it concerns me that she's saying that. That phrase tends to be thrown around a lot."

"I've never said it like I say it to her."

"I hope it's mutual."

"Am I out of your graces now?"

Joyce smiled, "You've got a couple left. Actually, I'm glad that she has you. You've probably been very good for her and as soon as my parental over-protectiveness goes away, maybe I'll see it as much as she does."

"Goodnight, Joyce," said Angel, stepping from the room.

Joyce smiled to herself, then headed up the stairs to her room.

Part 3

The next night, the congregation that was The Scooby Gang was seated around Buffy's kitchen table. Kayla sat on a stool to the side, assuring them that she was just there to watch.

"Does it really take this many people to talk to me?" asked Joyce.

"No," Buffy answered, "but they'll all be staying here tonight."

"Buff-" Angel began.

"You're staying, too," she said, not about to let him argue.

"So, what's this all about?" asked Joyce.

"MomÉI have to tell you the truthÉabout Dad."

Joyce felt the blood drain from her face, "What do you mean?"

"He wasn't mugged. He was killed byÉvampires."

"What?" said Joyce, praying that she'd misheard her daughter, "what are you talking about?"

"I know, it sounds, well, crazy, but it's true."

"BuffyÉwhere did you get this?"

"I've lived it."

"Hon," said Joyce gently, "I think you should talk to Dr. Brook."

"Mom, I don't need to talk to your therapist."

"If I may-" said Giles, trying to intervene.

"You may not," Joyce halted him, then turning back to Buffy, "You know, I was worried before, but I never thought that it would be this bad. Now, your friends are going home, and I'm calling Dr, Brook."

With that, Joyce left her seat and reached for the cordless phone. Buffy, who was up in a flash, ripped the phone from her hand and said, "Sit down, and if we can't convince you, then go ahead and call anyone you want to come take me away, but for God's sake, listen first."

"It's true," said Willow trying to help.

"Now, you've got your friends in on this? Buffy, this is really unhealthy."

Buffy wiped some tears from her eyes, then put the phone back on its cradle. She paced the room for a second, desperately searching her mind for the answer. She looked around the room, and when her eyes rested on Angel, the solution hit her.

Angel, knowing her thoughts said, "No."

"Please," she whispered. When she found her voice, she continued, "You have to. You were right, this sounds crazy and I can't make it sound any saner without your help."

"I don't want to be what sends her running out of here."

"There's no other way," she cried in a broken voice. Their conversation continued silently through their eyes, until he finally gave in.

"Fine," he consented.

During this exchange, Joyce had kept her eyes on her daughter, then upon hearing Angel's response, turned to him. She did not take to what she saw, well. Angel had vamped out; his classic features were hidden by the grotesque visage of a vampire. It didn't take long for Joyce to faint to the floor.

"Mom!" Buffy yelled, kneeling at her mother's side.

All but Angel crowded around her. He took a second to return to his human countenance, another to breathe out the uneasiness he was feeling, then joined his friends next to Joyce.

"Mom? Mom!" Buffy was shouting.

"Clear out, everyone," said Giles, "give her some air."

They backed away, one by one, except Buffy, who refused to leave her mother's side. Joyce moaned softly, her eyes fluttering. She looked around at that people above her, her eyes resting for a moment on Angel. She sat up, turned to Buffy and said, "I guess that wasn't a dream huh?"

Buffy shook her head, then wrapped her arms tightly around her mother. They remained this way for a few moments, then returned to their seats at the table.

"I don't understand," said Joyce, "these kinds of things aren't' supposed to exist."

"You're right," said Buffy, "but they do."

"What do you have to do with them?"

Buffy hesitated, "You want to hear a doosie? I'm a vampire slayer."

"A what?"

"I'm the one who was chosen to kill them."

"Are you sure about this, Buffy?"

"Giles!" Buffy wailed, requesting some support in the matter.

"Mrs. Summers, I assure you, Buffy is the slayer. She's an extraordinary girl, the strongest slayer to date."

"And who are you to her?" asked Joyce, "What part do all of you have in this?"

"Giles is my watcher. He's kinda my personal trainer. Xander, Oz, Cordy, and Willow found out about me kind of by accident, they've been helping me ever since."

"And him?" asked Joyce, nodding toward Angel.

"Angel's our insider. He can get into places we can't. Obviously, he knew about me before he even met me."

"Why does he help you?" Joyce's stare at him was calm but cold.

"It's a very long story," he answered, staring right back, "let's try to stay on topic."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" she demanded, "Or, should I ask, why are you telling me now?"

Buffy brushed a tear from her face, using the back of her shaking hand and sniffed a couple of times, then said, "I-I'm in trouble, Mom. The vampire that killed Dad was working for someone who has a price on my head. He wants me dead and I don't even know why," she took a few deep breaths, obviously, struggling to hold on, and said, "but before he gets to me, he's gonna go after everyone around me, everyone I care about."

Joyce felt herself, once again, pale, "You're telling me, I'm in danger of this?"

Buffy nodded and said, quietly, "I'm sorry, Mom. He picked me at random, I can't stop him from coming."

But Joyce was already out of the room. Buffy put her head down and started to sob. She hardly felt the various hands that touched her back, or the thin arms that encircled her shoulders. When she finally sat up, she looked to Willow, who held her, and said, "I have to talk to her."

Willow nodded, "Go, she needs to know."

Buffy left the table and her friends and went to look for her mom. She found Joyce in her bedroom, wildly pacing back and forth.

"Mom," said Buffy, trying to calm her.

Joyce stopped her pacing and looked coldly at her daughter, "Don't 'mom' me, young lady. You've been lying to me for years."

"Mom, I didn't-"

"Is this why you've been getting into so much trouble? Is this why you burned down the gym at Hermy? You gave up your whole life! Why?"

"MOM!" Buffy cried, "I didn't have a choice! I didn't choose any of this. This is just the way it is. I'm the slayer, deal."

"And I have to die for it?"

"No, you're not gonna die for it."

"No, I'm gonna die because you were picked at random by some creature that you seem to know nothing about."

"Mom!"

"So that's it? You're just gonna let it kill us?"

"No, mom, I need you to," Buffy stopped and chose her words carefully, "I need your permission."

Joyce raised an eyebrow at Buffy and asked, her voice more composed, "Why ask my permission? How do I know you won't do it anyway?"

"Not this."

After a short pause, Joyce answered, "What do you need my permission for?"

"IÉI think I can save you, but I need your permission to do WHATVER it takes to do itÉand I need you to not ask questions. If you can do this, I can make sure that this doesn't go anywhere near you."

"You can save me," Joyce swallowed hard and asked, on the verge of tears, "but can you save yourself?"

Buffy was quiet for a moment, still giving her mother an intense stare. She answered, "I can try."

Joyce sat uneasily on the bed and answered quietly, "Do what you have to do." She took a long pause, then asked, "How do you know it was vampires?"

Buffy sat down next to her, "I saw it in a dream. I saw it happen, then a man was next to me, telling me how he'd kill me in a week...how in three days, he'd come for one of my friendsÉhe should be here by tomorrow."

"Did he say who was next?"

"No, but I want everyone to stay here tonight. They'll be safe if they stay together."

"They all have to stay?"

Buffy knew what her mother was implying and said, "Angel makes you uncomfortable."

"Well, to find out that your daughter's sleeping with a vampire isn't something that happens everyday."

"I guess not."

"Of every man on earth, why did you pick him?"

"He's right for me, mom. He understands everything I go through and, believe me, he's been through a lot with me."

"A lot I don't know about."

Buffy nodded, "Yeah."

"Well, I guess there are some advantages, right? He can't give you a disease, or get you pregnant or anything, right?"

"HeÉcan get me pregnant," Buffy answered reluctantly and almost annoyed that this had been brought up.

"I didn't think that would be possible."

"It is."

Listening to Buffy's tone of voice, Joyce had to ask, "How do you know?"

Buffy felt herself go pale. She simply stared at her mother in face, tears pouring down her cheeks. She said through a thin voice, "I got pregnant in December. I miscarried."

"Was it the slaying?"

Buffy stifled a cry and said, "I wish it was just that."

"What happened?"

"Mom, I can't-" Buffy shook her head, her voice shaking as though she would break down again.

Joyce put her hands to her daughter's face and held it still. Then, staring her in the eyes, asked again, "What happened?"

Buffy swallowed hard and said, "About a week before my birthday, I was...kind of kidnapped, Angel and I were. It was vampiresÉthey took us to this old hotel. They drugged me, so I couldn't fight back, and," Buffy swallowed again to suppress the tears, that were trying to break free from her eyes, "I was rapedÉa few times, in fact, and the next day, I miscarried while I was at Willow's house."

"Oh, Buffy," said Joyce, sorrowfully, "why didn't you tell me?"

Buffy dropped her head, "I couldn't. I wanted to, but I couldn't explain this, it was too much."

Joyce nodded, then put her arms around her daughter saying, "I understand, but I'm glad you told me, now. I'm glad to know that you at least wanted to open up to me, because you never would before."

Joyce lifted Buffy's face to meet her own and said, "Listen, Buffy, I don't know what's gonna happen tomorrow, and you seem to want to stay pretty secretive about it, I should be used to it. I want you to knowÉI don't want anything to happen to you. I love you, Buffy, and you're all I've got."

"I love you, too."

"Can you promise me something?"

"Anything."

Joyce took a breath, then said, "You've been through so much pain because of who you areÉdon't let him hurt you. Promise me that you won't let him cause you any pain."

Buffy whispered, "I promise," then fell quickly, into her mother's embrace.

Part 4

Meanwhile, downstairs, the rest of the gang had divided. Most of them remained in the kitchen. Willow lay on the couch, with her legs hanging over one side, flipping through the channels, next to Angel, who sat upright, with his face buried in a magazine. He'd been trying to read the same line for the past twenty minutes, but it just wouldn't sink in, he was too distracted.

He put down his magazine and said to Willow, "You know, you're awfully calm for someone whose life is being threatened."

"So, are you," she answered, then after a pensive pause, "I'm trying not to think about it."

"Is it working?"

"YeahÉa little."

In that moment, they heard Buffy's door open and close. It was the first movement they'd heard any noise from upstairs in over an hour when Buffy had left Joyce's room and entered her own. At the sound of footsteps, Willow propped herself up on her elbow and watched as Buffy came down the stairs. Before she reached the bottom, Oz entered the room, took Willow's hand and pulled her up from the couch, saying, "C'mon, Will, we need you."

When she had followed him from the room, Buffy took Willow's place on the couch, laying herself across Angel's lap. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her head.

"What happened?" he asked.

"She made me promise that I wouldn't let him hurt me."

"Did you?"

"I had to. Then, she said that she needed to sleep and that I should go."

"You should probably go to bed, too. You look exhausted."

Buffy looked up at him with a half smile and asked, "You wanna come with?"

Angel returned the half smile and ran his fingers lightly in her hair, "Sure."

Buffy grasped his hand and began to lead him up the stairs. They were almost there when Willow came back.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" she asked Angel.

"I'll see you up there," said Buffy, then went the rest of the way alone.

'What's going on?" Angel asked, walking back down.

"A lot of us feel that we'd have a better chance if we weren't in the house. Do you want to come with us?"

"He'll find us. He can find Buffy and if she's with us, he'll find us, too."

Willow asked her next question carefully, "What if she's not with us?"

Angel couldn't believe what he'd just heard. He said with contempt, "Then you'd be abandoning her."

Willow put a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. When she looked back at him, they glistened.

"I don't want that," she said, "but I don't want to stay here."

"You'll be safe as long as you're not alone. If Joyce hadn't already gone to bed, I'd have her stay down here with you. So, if you really wanna leave, leave, but if anyone decides to stay I want them in her room. No one should be alone right now."

"He's gonna kill whoever he finds here."

"Listen Will, I don't know what's gonna happen tomorrow. I don't know his plan, no one does, but I can't leave her to face him alone. So, do what you think is right, I'm not gonna stop you. I'm gonna go upstairs and stay with my girlfriend in, what will ultimately be, a sorry attempt to keep her sane. I hope I'll see you tomorrow."

With that, he went up the stairs and straight to Buffy's room. Willow returned to the kitchen where her friends still sat.

"Is he coming?" asked Xander.

"No," she replied.

"I'm staying," said Giles, determinedly.

"So am I," added Willow.

"I thought you were coming with us," said Xander.

"No," she shook her head, "I can't just leave her and neither can you."

"Someone's gonna die tomorrow, Will. I don't want you to be that person."

"So, you'd rather it be Buffy, or Giles, or Angel? I don't think any of us should go."

"I'll stay," said Oz.

"Cordy?" asked Xander.

Cordelia took a long moment to think it over, then threw her arms up, exclaiming, "Damn you people and your infernal nobility! I'm staying!"

"Don't leave us, Xander," Willow pleaded, "we shouldn't be alone."

"Fine," he consented, reluctantly.

"Angel said that someone should go stay with Joyce. We should all be safe as long as we're with someone else."

"I'll go," said Giles, "I'll see you all in the morning."

"Goodnight," said Willow, "I hope you get some sleep because I sure won't."

But Willow had over-anticipated. Three hours passed, and she and Oz slept, wrapped in each other on the couch. This is what Buffy found when she tiptoed down the stairs.

She'd had a heck of a time getting out of her room. Every time she got up, Angel would awaken and she would have to make up an excuse as to why she had left the bed. Her, now, smashed lamp had put a quick stop to that. She kissed his head, whispered a few loving words into his unhearing ear, then put on some clothes and left the room. Just outside her door, she found Giles. Upon hearing the crash of the lamp, he'd stepped quietly from Joyce's room and headed for Buffy's. A quick hit on the back of the head had sent him unconscious to the ground. Buffy had entered her mom's room, glad to find Joyce fast asleep. She'd left a piece of paper on the pillow, next to her mother's head, then gone quickly from the room, before her emotions caused her to cry again.

Now, downstairs, she walked around to find her friends in the house. Willow and Oz slept soundly on the couch, Cordelia lay on the floor in the next room, and beside her lay a collection of used blankets, suggesting that someone had been sleeping there before. Xander and Kayla were nowhere to be found.

She left a piece of paper on the kitchen counter, similar to the one she'd left in Joyce's room, then departed the house through the back door. She went around the house only to find that, standing on the sidewalk, watching her home, was her Temblar.

He watched her walk towards him and said, "Running away? I told you, it won't help you."

"I'm going for a walk," she protested, "I can't sleep."

"Don't be long."

"I'll come back," she assured him, "Are you going in there while I'm gone?"

"No, they're all asleep now."

Buffy nodded to herself, then turned to walk away.

"That's it?" he said surprised, "no attack, no death threat?"

"Why would I?" she asked, "I know what happens if I kill you; someone I care about dies in the same way, so, if you think about it, I kill them."

"You have a good point. Take your walk."

Buffy hastily left the scene, eager to get away from him. He watched her go for a few moments then headed off in the other direction.

Xander watched all this from his car, slightly unsure of what had happened. He'd left the house over an hour before. Once he was in his car, he saw the short man in dark clothes standing outside the house, looking in. Due to the foreboding feeling that the man gave him, Xander hadn't moved from his spot, but had simply prayed that the man would go away. Now, to see Buffy speak so unhappily to the man, he knew that he was looking at the Temblar.

He ducked down low as the dark man walked past him. Once he was around the corner, Xander got out of his car and sneaked quietly down the street after Buffy.

Part 5

"This is it," she said quietly to herself, looking around at the surroundings, "the last time."

Buffy wandered the neighborhoods that she had come to know so well. No one else was on the streets, even the vampires had gone to bed, knowing that the sun would be up within the hour.

After a long, reminiscent walk, she reached her destination: the bridge that went high over Tara Stream. She looked over the rail; it was a very long way down. Buffy laid her head on the rail and began to cry loudly. Every time she thought about what was ahead her tears became more difficult to control. She finally lifted her head and took in some calming breaths.

Looking down at her shoes, she saw that the soles were covered with mud. Buffy placed her hands on the rail and lifted herself up onto it. As she stood on the rail, looking down into the rushing waters below her, she let go of herself and began to weep again.

Xander took her into his arms and slipped the paper from her hand. He unwrinkled it and held it past Willow's trembling body. The blood drained quickly from his face, as he read:

Dear Friends,

I can't begin to tell you what you've all done for me. Thick and thin, the world on the line, you've been there to help me and save me from whatever was out there, even if that something was myself. Unfortunately, this is not something you can save me from.

Tonight, while lying in my bed with the man I love, in a house full of the people who are my life, I made a realization about the Temblar: he means to take my life before he kills me. By taking you away from me, he takes away my life. After all, with you all gone, what would I have to live and fight for? I'd be an easy target and no challenge for him. It makes sense, right? It's a common strategy used by warlords and warriors.

Well, I came to a decision, not an easy one, but it was one I had to make. I realized it last night. My decision was that I wasn't going to let him hurt any of you to get to me. In fact, by the time you get this, he'll have no reason. I'm beating him to it. This situation has to end and, sadly, so do I. From here, I'm heading up to Gally Bridge and, yeah, I'm jumping. I want the stream to take me away. I don't want to be found. I don't want any of you to see me like that, or even imagine it. I want you to remember me as you know me, as I would, you.

I'm sorry, I can't say that enough. To leave you like this is the last thing that I want, but I don't see any other way. You're all in this because of me and it's my responsibility to get you out. I love you all too much to let this happen. As a slayer, it's my duty. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Please, don't be angry with me for this and please don't follow me. I love you so much, never doubt that and never think for a second that this is your fault. Take care and love each other as much as I know you can.

Love Always,

Buffy

It didn't take long for Xander to collapse, sobbing, onto Willow.

"Who's gonna tell him?" asked Oz, sitting up in the arm chair.

Neither Xander nor Cordelia heard him. They sat silently, in each other's embrace, Xander staring off into space, and Cordelia crying quietly on his shoulder.

"I will," Willow volunteered through a hoarse voice.

"Are you sure?" asked Giles, glancing every once in awhile at Joyce, who hadn't said a word since she'd found the letter on her bed, the letter that she hadn't shown to anyone, but that they had all assumed said the same as the one that had been left on the counter.

"I'll go," Willow insisted, walking up the stairs with the letter in her hand.

Giles leaned his head back on the couch and thought about the last two hours. There wasn't a person in the room who hadn't become blind with tears at the news of Buffy's demise, except Joyce who seemed to be going through severe shock. Kayla had been gone before anyone had been given the chance to tell her. Now, Willow was upstairs, telling Angel the bad news. He wondered for a moment whether he should have gone up with her.

He nearly voiced his thoughts, but was interrupted when he heard Willow shout from upstairs, "He's coming down! BLOCK THE DOOR!"

Cordelia leapt up and dead-bolted the front door, while Giles and Xander waited at the bottom of the stairs. Angel came thundering down, wearing only a pair of black sweat pants that he'd left at Buffy's house ages before. He would have gotten out the door if it hadn't been for Xander, Giles, and Oz, who had gotten up to help them. They grabbed tightly to him and shoved him back up the stairs, knocking him into Willow, who'd come down and stood behind him. She fell back on the stairs. Angel gave her only a quick, remorseful look, then tried for the door again, only to be, once again held back.

"Let me go!" he screamed at them.

"Don't do it!" Willow yelled, getting up from the stairs.

Angel shoved them away, then looked toward the door, to find that Willow was now using herself to firmly guard it.

"Move," he growled at her.

She shook her head defiantly, "No."

"Willow," he said warningly.

"I'm not letting you do this."

"If you don't move, I'll move you, myself."

"No!" she cried, her body heaving into a loud sob that became lodged in her throat.

His face changed as his anger peaked and he grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. In a quick motion, her hand came up and slapped his face. She stared at him intensely, then she dropped her head and began to cry loudly, bracing herself for whatever action his anger would force him to take.

To her surprise sorrow rushed over Angel and he released her. He suddenly snapped out of it and returned to his previous focus: the door, which he pressed his head against in an attempt to calm himself. Issuing a great cry, slammed his fist against it, then fell, broken and sobbing to his knees. Willow dropped to the floor beside him and threw her arms around his neck. Tears began to flow for everyone, even Joyce, who hadn't moved once through all of this.