DISCLAIMER: No I don’t own them, but if I did the world would be a better place.
SUMMARY: This is a story of lost identities and the struggle to discover who it is you really are.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Buffy is alive, but what are her friend's reactions?
SPOILERS: Anything and everything.
DISTIBUTION: This story’s for all. Anybody can feel free to put it on their site if they let me know about it first. And please do, because I would love to have some work posted!
FEEDBACK: You know you want to.
RATING: R

The more you live in this world, the more you see how apart from it you really are.
-‘Becoming’.

~*~*~*~*

“Buffy…”

The name slipped between his lips a mere whisper, but her green eyes flickered toward him and Angel knew that she’d heard. The corners of her mouth twitched up just slightly at him, not enough to be considered a smile.

She’s not dead.

His whole body went rigid with incredulity and relief, and he could do nothing but stare. But there was something different about her that he noticed, and that bothered him. She seemed… cooler. Distanced.

“Hey guys”, she spoke softly. “It’s been a long time”.

Faith grunted, shifting along the gravel with her arm pressed firmly against her side, and blinked up at the older slayer in mild disbelief.

“B?” she murmured haltingly, swaying faintly. She didn’t look too good. “You’re not… dead?” Her features had grown the shade of ash, and a thin layer of sweat lined her hairline and beaded down her brow.

Buffy shrugged, and her gaze swept over to the vampire Spike, who was staring at her with a paleness that had nothing to do with his vampirism.

“To some people I am.”

She stepped closer to the group, until the vampires nearest budged warningly, barring her way further. They not only sensed what she was, but had heard an assortment of amazing tales surrounding this foreboding young woman, and it discomforted them instantly to know she was alive, and in their midst.

Spike’s Adam’s apple bobbed convulsively, and his free arm strayed fretfully to his blonde hair, then to his side again, as if he had no idea what to do with it. Angel peeled his eyes away long enough to see that the peroxide vampire was staring at the slayer himself, and it wasn’t with the fear of a lesser, or the arrogance of an adversary. It was… something else.

Something Angel found more than vaguely disturbing.

Buffy also noticed Spike’s evident unease – it was actually quite difficult to miss –, and her eyes narrowed together with a loathing Angel had never seen her direct at another person before.

“What’s the matter, Spike?” she said harshly. “Do you speak, or do I have to pull a string first?”

This seemed to snap Spike out of whatever peculiar funk her unexpected reappearance had put him into. He straightened, and the knuckles closed around the gun grew white from the newfound force of his grip.

“Buffy”, he said slowly, as if drawing the word out. He sighed heavily, an unnecessary display of breath. “You’re alive”, he observed flatly.

Buffy acknowledged this with a sharp tilt of her eyebrow. “So are you. And, note my surprise, doesn’t look like you’re batting home team”.

“He ever was?” Faith snorted disdainfully. Despite her pain, she clearly wasn’t done with the jibes, and Angel would have smiled, in other circumstances.

Spike ignored her, but his jaw twitched when he clenched his teeth and Angel could see it took him a great effort. It was very hard to ignore Faith.

“Things change”, he said quietly, not leaving Buffy’s gaze. “Life goes on… with or without you in it.”

There was a great deal of familiarity between the pair. Angel knew back in Sunnydale Spike had been considered harmless, and as so Buffy had held reservations against killing him, but there was too much… The pieces didn’t fit.

“It seems to me you certainly have a head start in that department”, Wesley mused. There was a cutting lilt in his tone. He paused for dramatic effect.

“Well, I mean considering you have a soul”.

Buffy didn’t look surprised, but Angel gawped at the revelation that made way too much sense. “Excuse me?”

Spike waved a hand at him. “Oh, button down a notch, Peaches”, he responded dismissively. “Just because you can live in peace and harmony with the birds and the bees, doesn’t mean that’s the life for others of us”.

“How did you know that?” Angel asked Wesley cautiously.

The man shrugged. “I didn’t occupy my prison time entirely in exile. I studied the occult, mildly, mind you. I could sense the change”.

Faith coughed pointedly. Angel pretended he hadn’t heard her. There was no use going into Wesley’s morals right at this moment.

“You have a soul”, Buffy spat. “Yet you killed all of those innocent people. God knows how long it’s been happening. I didn’t do anything all those years ago because I thought you could be saved like…” Her eyes ticked over to Angel’s, and quickly averted again. “But I was wrong. You’re worse than all of those… I was wrong to believe anything could be good about you.”

Spike rolled his eyes, and threw the gun to the ground beside him. “Wrong? You weren’t wrong, pet, I just had a great moment of clarity. Made my life a whole lot simpler too, I can tell you. Allow me to make this simpler for you, luv. I mean that’s what you want, innit? Make this easy on yourself?”

He stepped closer, and the vampires made way for him. He was their leader, and he had clearly reverted back to form if their obedience was anything to go by.

He stopped in front of Buffy, and her green eyes travelled up to meet his face.

“I trusted you with them”, she hissed in a low voice only he could hear. “I trusted you to get them out of town alive that night”.

Spike looked at her squarely. “They got out alive”, he responded chillingly. “What interests me is the fact that you’ve been gone six years without a word, and then you decide its time to blame ol’ Spike when you’ve got a bloody bit to answer for yourself. If they’re dead, it’s not my pretty little head it’ll be hangin’ over”.

He was asking for an explanation, and though she knew he didn’t deserve it, he wouldn’t be the only one.

“I only did what no one else could”, she snapped evasively instead.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah. You stayed back to act the hero bit while I got the Nibs and all else out of town. Safely too, I might add. I was never expected to play baby-sitter to ‘em once we were out. I did my job, just like you asked. I always did what you asked.

“Don’t soften up on me, kitten. If we’re gonna go at it, you might as well get straight to the killing, hmm?”

“Then how’s this for a signal?”

Faith’s voice cut into Buffy and Spike’s heated exchange, before a gunshot echoed loudly off the cavernous walls. Spike slumped to the ground, and his features once again morphed into the vampire countenance as he shot his hand out to where the bullet had impacted his shoulder in surprise.

“How does that feel?” the younger slayer taunted him.

Faith glared at him coldly with the rifle cradled awkwardly in her arms, and then she collapsed. Angel quickly caught her in his arms.

That was all the signal the other vampires apparently needed to attack.

Startled, Buffy had been staring down at a now wounded Spike, and her delayed reaction gave him a great advantage on her when he launched his offensive.

Buffy caught a blow from Spike’s fist hard in the chin, and the force drove her back, more out of surprise than anything else.

“Still haven’t learned to duck”, he condemned disapprovingly, glaring down at her with what she would have almost passed as hatred, had she not known him better. It actually disturbed her how much she still knew this evil vampire.

Buffy recovered quickly, circling him with intense hatred distorting her pretty features and making her truly terrifying. He had never doubted her strength before, not even behind the betraying innocence of her petite little frame and wide doe-like green eyes. But she was actually quite frightening in this state.

He knew then he had never seen the look directed at him, not really. Yet the boiling rage in his gut did not fire from hatred.

Much as he tried, he could not hate this beautiful creature.

Even if he did have to kill her tonight.

“Come on, Goldilocks”, he taunted her, knowing the use of the name would only infuriate her more. His love for her had blinded not only himself, but her too, much as she would loathe to ever admitting it. It made it so much simpler to just make her hate him again. “Give it me good”.

“You’re disgusting, Spike”, she spat, and there was a flush in her cheeks that only accentuated her rage. The rain still splattered down on them, and her long blonde hair was soaked, plastered slickly to her forehead, but she didn’t seem to notice. “I should have done this a long time ago. I should have stopped you before things got this far”.

He circled her, unable to curtail their banter so easily. “You never could kill me”, he reminded her. “Not even when I was the Big Bad. What makes you think now it’ll be any easier?”

“It doesn’t matter”, she retorted. “It doesn’t have to be easy. I’ve learnt that enough times the hard way”.

She was obviously through talking. She ran at him in a roundhouse kick, rearing him back at the impact. He caught her leg when she went in again, using her momentum against her to flip her to the side. Buffy dodged his next blow, ducking swiftly to the right, running full tilt at the prison wall, and she ran straight up it without missing a beat, flinging out her left leg in a kick that sent not only he, but several vampires flying.

She flipped over the heads of a small cluster of startled vamps, and Spike couldn’t conceal his admiration. She had always been more than a formidable opponent in the past, why had she lasted as long as she had? But now?

Now she was absolutely amazing.

Buffy wheezed slightly from the effort of that last manoeuvre, and spared Spike a glance over her shoulder as the vampire slowly picked himself up again. There was no time to take him out, and both knew it, for he met her gaze straight on and she swore there was a sliver of regret etched there, and not from the battle.

Don’t even go there.

She quickly turned away, and saw Faith nearby, rolled onto her side by the white van, looking incredibly woozy as her eyes struggled to follow the actions of battle.

Buffy sprinted for her, and as her eyes travelled over the fellow slayer she realised the girl had been shot in the gut.

“Come on”, she snapped, jerking herself into action and circling the brunette around the shoulders to help her unsteadily to her feet.

Faith stared back at her through lidded brown eyes, and stumbled against Buffy dizzily. She was pretty far-gone, but something in the look gave Buffy the knowledge that the contact that had long been lost between slayers had inadvertently just been re-established.

“You have to walk, Faith”, Buffy told her gently, concern she thought long dead for the woman reawakening in her heart. “Can you do that?”

Faith blinked. “Buff”, she whispered raucously. “I’m not doin’ too good”.

Buffy closed her eyes without replying, her heartbeat pounding in her own ears, and then scanned the area around them resolutely for some form of escape.

“Use the van”, a gravely voice suggested quietly by her side.

Buffy twisted around abruptly, to see the man who had once been her watcher standing at the door to the vehicle pointedly. His grey eyes watched her expectantly, and she inwardly shivered at what she saw there, but if asked wouldn’t have been able to explain it.

He was a stranger to her now. And so were Faith and Spike.

And Angel.

She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. If they were going to survive, they needed to work together, friend or foe.

“Good idea”.

She pulled Faith stiffly to the twin doors at the back, hefting her up with difficulty as her muscles cramped in her shoulders.

Wesley was already behind the wheel, and she slammed the doors roughly behind her as she hopped up onto the platform inside.

The engine coughed to life, and Buffy quickly dashed to the front seat, which was separated from the cabin by steel barred doorway that was firmly bolted to the wall. Buffy pulled at it, breaking it down easily with her slayer strength, and shoved it roughly aside.

“Wait!” she cried to the watcher, sliding back the passenger door and feeling the cool rush of air and rain pull at her face as the car began to roll along the footpath. “We have to get Angel!”

Her ex had heavily immersed himself within what remained of the vampires, which was still enough to easily outnumber the four of them, despite their combined force. Buffy reached over Wesley and blared on the horn.

“ANGEL!”

He saw her, and their eyes locked for a brief second, with it bringing all of their shared history like a chequered quilt – the good and the bad. Buffy shook the feeling off, and he punched aside the vampire blocking his path, and tore across the bitumen road for the van, which Wesley steered at a vastly gathering speed towards the road.

His fingers grasped the doorframe and Angel boosted himself aboard, landing heavily on the floor with a rumble of his boots, and panting deeply, completely out of breath.

He sagged his back against the closed door in exhaustion, but then his handsome features twisted into a smile of relief as his intense eyes took in her face once more.

“Hey Buffy”, he said softly. “It’s good to see you”.

Buffy smiled faintly back. “Yeah”, she murmured, unable to reveal the turmoil she felt inside. “You too”.

~*~*~*~*

It was virtual chaos when they returned to Angel Investigation’s new HQ.

Cordelia was there, and Buffy couldn’t believe herself how relieved she was to see another familiar face. The ex-cheerleader’s face blanched at the sight of the blonde vampire slayer, but then her attention was diverted by the other slayer’s quickly deteriorating condition and Buffy was forgotten.

There was another man Buffy dimly recalled hearing about, Charles Gunn, who helped Angel lift Faith inside, and a few others milled about, whose names she mostly forgot as soon as they were introduced to her, if they were at all.

The trip to the building had been in silence, either Angel had sensed she didn’t want to tell him about the past, or he had been too worn out to ask. Either way she was grateful. She wasn’t ready yet. Spike had already brought up too much she didn’t want to remind herself of.

Cordelia cleared a low shabby sofa in the centre of the main living room, and Angel and Gunn lowered Faith down to it. She cried out in pain. Dark blood caked over her shirt and down the side of her jeans, and she was pale and drawn in the face as her teeth started to rattle uncontrollably.

Cordelia took charge, confidence Buffy had never seen taking over the black haired beauty as she shooed everyone aside and ordered for some first aid supplies.

Buffy stood away from the scene with unease, and the need to support her shaky legs grew too great. She slumped into a wooden chair at her back, resting her head in her hand as she shut her eyes, struggling to block out the activity going on around her.

“Buffy?”

The voice was infinitely gentle and warm, and she knew who it was even before she slowly raised her face again to look up at him.

Angel was at a crouch on the floor in front of her, and he kindly held forward a soft blue towel. “Here”.

Buffy hadn’t released how cold she felt until then, and accepted the offering gratefully, shivering slightly. Their hands briefly brushed, and she was surprised by the thrill of electricity that shot up her arm at the sheer contact.

She looked down again, brushing a wet strand of hair from her eye with one clammy palm. Her lips were dry despite the fact that she was dripping all over Angel’s kitchen floor, and she had to lick her lips before she tentatively spoke.

“Is Faith okay?”

The confidence had pretty much drained out of her ever since their narrow but successful escape, and she wanted more than anything to just curl up into an invisible ball and hide herself away. She didn’t feel like answering questions she wasn’t sure she could even answer, let alone face her former lover’s kindly but wary compassion.

He glanced over to where Cordelia had managed to soothe Faith into a sort of sleep, and hesitated before giving a short nod. “Cordelia will take care of her”.

As if she had heard, which Buffy considered knowing Cordelia she probably had, the woman’s high voice curtly interrupted them.

“Faith should be okay, provided we have enough painkillers to dose into her. That’s our main issue here. We’re low on the stuff, and she needs it, like, pronto”.

Her eyes had that brazen I-told-you-so look gleaming from them that was much more like the Cordelia Buffy knew, and they ticked between Angel and Buffy again with something bordering on suspicion.

Angel rose to his feet away from Buffy, turning to Cordelia with a look of immense irritability, and she sensed there was some long-standing argument going on there.

“There was no way to know this was going to happen, Cordelia”, he said with a sigh. “I think the fact that we recovered not one, but two old friends stands as worth it”.

Cordelia glared. “Yeah”, she retorted matter-of-factly. “And then we might just loose another.”

“You just said yourself that Faith is fine”.

“Without those pesky painkillers she soon won’t be”, the brunette snapped back pointedly.

He clenched his jaw. “I’ll take care of it, Cordy”, he said tiredly.

She spun away from him tightly. “You better”.

She paused, and glanced at Buffy over her shoulder before departing. “I’m glad you’re alive, Buffy”, she said quietly. But there was a hint of reproach in her tone, and Buffy wondered if she even meant it at all.

Gunn wandered over after her departing back, but his dark gaze was focused more urgently on Wesley, who sat away from everyone present by the windowsill in the corner.

“You were lucky, man”, he said flatly. “That’s all I can say.”

After that, he too disappeared, and Angel sighed heavily and turned back around to face Buffy again.

“They didn’t want you to save Wesley”, she guessed shrewdly. “Did they?”

Angel slowly shook his head. “They have their reasons”, he admitted quietly.

He turned to look at her again, more closely this time. “Your face”, he observed. “You’re hurt”.

Buffy’s hand unintentionally rose to the throbbing in her jaw that she wanted to pretend wasn’t there, and she quickly waved a hand to dismiss it. “It’s okay. I-I’m fine, really.”

He ignored her protest, and riffled in the first aid kit Cordelia had used on Faith before returning with a cloth that he ran under the water. Buffy sighed in irritation, but allowed him to examine the blackening bruise she had been dealt back there at the prison as he pulled a chair over so that their knees were almost touching.

“I’m guessing this is Spike’s doing?” he murmured, eyes focused on his task rather than her. There was a slight edge to his voice and she knew he had sensed more than a little of the hostility back there had not been simply something between old enemies.

Buffy swallowed. “Yeah”, she muttered.

She cut him off before he could go further. “Look. If you’re going to ask me what happened back there, I don’t know what you expect me to say”.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “You wanted to help him when he got a soul. I’m still not really clear on how that even occurred, but I can understand why you would”.

I doubt it, she thought to herself grimly.

“Right”, she replied, glancing away.

“Buffy, where have you been all this time?” he asked softly. “The invasion started… and you just vanished. I knew you couldn’t have been killed, but then what…?”

Buffy shook her head, jerking abruptly away from his hand on her cheek. “I can’t… I don’t want to get into this right now, okay?”

He was adamant. “Yeah, but people are going to want to know –“

“Angel”, Buffy said pleadingly. “I know that people are going to want to know. But I didn’t think I would have to deal with that from you, not yet anyway”.

He sighed, and then nodded. “I’m sorry. I just… it’s a long time to wonder about you, Buffy. To not know if you were dead, or alive, or… or worse.”

She knew what he meant.

She bit down on her lower lip. “Angel”, she started softly. “I’d understand… if you didn’t want me here”.

Angel frowned at her. “What?” he asked in surprise. “Why do you say that?”

She looked away. “I know what people think of me here”, she whispered.

“You couldn’t have stopped the invasion”, he said sharply.

Buffy crinkled her brow. “How do you know that I –“

“You’re blaming yourself, aren’t you?” he guessed. “Buffy… it would have happened one way or the other. If it wasn’t in Sunnydale, it would have been somewhere else. The vampires had been planning this for a long time”.

“Yeah, well”, she muttered bitterly. “I wasn’t exactly a big help in the after-effect department”.

“Buffy –“

“Angel, can you just… stop. Please. I can’t hear all this when I know that there aren’t many jumping in line to agree with you. In case you haven’t noticed, everyone in the world thinks I’m dead”, she said flatly. “And you know why that is?

“Because I didn’t come back.”

She shook her head. “I knew what it was like here – that my friends were most likely here – and I didn’t come back. I avoided it. Spike was right with what he said. If they are dead, it’s my fault that they are”.

“Everyone wants to run away sometimes”, he said earnestly. “Everyone needs a rest. After what you’ve been through, don’t you think you have more than an understandable reason for that?”

“I’m the slayer”, Buffy snapped back. “I don’t get timeout. I have to be in constant help-mode, or people end up dead. I slipped up, and the world has to pay for that.”

She shook her head. “You, for whatever reason, don’t believe that. But everyone else does”. Her voice cracked. “You saw how Cordelia just acted before. She couldn’t even look at me, for God’s sake. And all those people you have here. You said my name, and it was like I was the grim reaper or something. As far as they’re concerned, they have to live like this because of what I did”.

Angel sighed. “Blaming yourself doesn’t make this go away, Buffy”.

“No. No, it doesn’t. But whatever you say, it doesn’t make it any less my fault, either”.

Angel considered her for a long moment in silence, and she knew he didn’t condemn her, and that somehow made everything all the more worse.

“God, I can’t… I’m tired, Angel”, she said wearily at last, bowing her head. “I’m just so… I’m really tired.”

I can’t deal with this right now.

“Okay”, he relented after a moment. “I’ll find you somewhere to sleep.” He hesitated, and then gently rested a palm over hers. “You can talk to me, Buffy. You know you can. When you’re ready to tell me… everything, just remember that.”

Buffy stifled the urge to shriek and scream at him as a wave of self-hatred surged through her. It IS my fault, she wanted to cry. Just tell me it is my fault. Hate me like I hate myself.

Instead she submissively nodded her head, and glanced away from his eyes.

“Sure”, she murmured noncommittally. “If that’s what you think”.

~*~*~*~*

The sun had barely lit over the horizon when Angel started down the still abandoned Los Angeles streets, which even now were showing early signs of life, duster fluttering behind him in the shadows of the overhead apartment buildings.

It was a new day, a new light, one in which L.A. would once again deny themselves what the world had become, love and die and breathe, until the sun went down again.

He had a job to do today, and it was easier done if Buffy remained oblivious to it. It hadn’t been hard to avoid her by leaving before she was awake. She was clearly going to avoid him as well after their conversation last night; it irritated him that he still knew that about her.

His first stop was a bar called The Southern Cross, not far from where he and his friends inhabited. He knew the bartender through several contacts, so getting information out of him wasn’t going to be particularly difficult, and as the owner of a prime nightspot he was in a perfect position to do so.

Eddie glanced up at the entrance in surprise. He didn’t expect anyone but the usual patrons this early in the day, and they were all already there – or they hadn’t left.

“Angel”, he said in greeting, expression slightly wary. “What can I do for you this morning?”

He made to fill a tankard, but Angel held up a warding hand. “Bit too early in the morning for me, Eddie”.

“Right”.

Angel glanced around the room, and was satisfied when he realised their only eavesdroppers would be a heavily drunk Scotsman wailing for home, and a young woman who looked like a prostitute, puffing away on a cigarette in the corner and looking to have enough troubles of her own to be worried about theirs.

“I need your help with something”, Angel began. “A favour, you might call it”.

Eddie looked reluctant, but he knew he owed. “What kind of favour would this be?” he asked suspiciously.

“I know you get a lot of regular clientele this time of year, who have a lot of connections”, Angel started.

Eddie snorted. “To the vamps, you mean?”

“It depends, really. See I’m looking for some old friends. And those contacts might just come in handy…”

“I ask around, they find your people”, Eddie cut in. “Yeah, I get it, man. Do I get a name?”

Angel withdrew a small slip of paper. “Dawn Summers, Willow Rosenburg and Alexander Harris”, he said, knowing they would mean nothing to Eddie himself.

He had decided earlier leaving Buffy out of this was a better option for now. Despite what he told her, he knew she was right when saying some people wouldn’t react to her name too well. But Eddie was sharper than he looked.

“Summers?” he mused. A frown marred his already weary lined face. “Ain’t that the name of that slayer chick went missing a few years ago?”

Angel’s association with her wasn’t exactly a secret.

“That’s right”, Angel said, carefully neutral.

“Radford Street, honey”.

The voice of the woman in the corner startled both men, and they turned to her in surprise. Now he had a better look at her, she was actually a lot older than Angel had initially thought. Lines circled her startlingly golden eyes, as well as black bags that her heavy make-up hadn’t entirely concealed. She had to be at least thirty.

“Excuse me, what did you just say?” Angel asked slowly.

Eddie waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t mind Lizzie. She likes any excuse to get a stranger’s attention”.

Lizzie shot him a withering glare. “I’m not workin right now, Ed”, she responded somewhat defensively. She turned her cat-like gaze onto Angel again. “The first one you read out? You said Dawn Summers, right, sugar?”

Angel couldn’t believe his good luck. This woman knew Dawn!

“That’s right”, he said cautiously, just containing his enthusiasm. “You know her?”

She nodded, reddish hair falling over her shoulders. The eyes and the hair were a strange combination, and Angel had to assume either one, or both, wasn’t real. “I know her”, she replied evenly. “That club on Radford Street, The Boiler. You know it?”

Angel shook his head. She laughed derisively, and it was cut off by a harsh cough rattling her body. “Course you wouldn’t know it”, she corrected herself after a moment with scorn. “Well, as far as I know the girl’s still there. Haven’t been back in awhile.”

Angel held forward the piece of paper. “What about these other two? Have you heard of them?”

But Lizzie was already shaking her head. “Sorry, honey. Can’t say I have. But Dawn? You said her name’s the same as that wacko slayer chick. They sisters or something? I wouldn’t let that get around. Bad for business, you know?”

Angel had no idea what she was talking about, but made himself nod in what he hoped was understanding. “Don’t worry. It won’t”.

He hesitated. “Thanks for the help”.

She shrugged; already distracted by her drink again, and no doubt her own sordid sorrows. “No probs, love”.

Radford Street. The Boiler.

It was more than a good start.

~*~*~*~*

The Boiler.

It was worse than Prophecy in terms of clientele, and Angel thought that maybe Lizzie had made a mistake. Obviously from what she had indicated, Dawn was supposed to work here.

It wasn’t actually very far from Prophecy, but they may as well have been worlds apart. As Angel stood watching from the shadows, a young woman led a bumbling and quite clearly drunk man into the front door, and it closed with a thud behind them. The place was not a very respectable establishment, far from it, Angel thought. The outside was rundown and neglected, and the sounds of music and jeering laughter floated through the doors when the woman and her companion had crossed the threshold.

Angel sighed deeply, and forced himself to enter.

He wasn’t naïve, he knew what the place was even before he walked in, but to see it was still a shock. A long stage occupied the majority of the space, and a bar directly opposite, as well as several tables cluttered chaotically in between. Crude music he didn’t recognise boomed from the speakers, and how they were even getting electricity, Angel didn’t know, but he didn’t think the vampires did either.

A woman clad in fishnet stockings and a short leather black dress moved slowly around on the stage, much to the enjoyment of a group of lazing men at the table nearby. They were the only customers this time of day, and apart from them, the room was virtually empty.

Angel struggled to ignore the atmosphere, focusing his attention into sweeping his searching gaze around the room instead. There was a back door he assumed led to private quarters, and he started slowly towards it.

“Hey honey, where are you running off to”, a sultry feminine voice said behind him, tapping him on the shoulder.

I don’t have time for this.

He wheeled slowly around to face her, about to brush her off, when he stopped dead and his face actually paled.

Dawn Summers at twenty-one stood across from him, and certainly not in the capacity he had hoped.

A stripper.

Her pale heart shaped face was covered in foundation, and heavy black eyeliner marred her intense dark eyes. She wore a short black skirt and black strapless halter-top to complete the ensemble. For a moment he thought he had mistaken this blatantly beautiful young woman as the little girl he remembered so vividly, but recognition clouded over her expression, and he knew it was her.

“Angel”, she said flatly.

“Dawn”.

Her jaw muscles clenched. “What the hell do you want here?”

He glared back, unable to keep the hostility from his tone. “I’m not here to partake in your little ‘business’, if that’s what you mean.”

She chuckled humourlessly. “What, so you found me and decided to try out your noble deeds on another of the helpless of this city? Great job you’ve been doing on that, by the way”.

Angel couldn’t help but flinch at the barb. God. THIS was Dawn Summers, Buffy’s little sister? He hadn’t believed how damaging the invasion could truly be until this moment.

“I’m not here to try and convince you to get out, and to be honest I don’t really want to know why the hell you’re here in the first place”, he said coldly.

She had stridden over to the low-slung counter, and leant over to riffle around in the cupboard underneath. A moment later she produced a packet of cigarettes, and he was involuntarily reminded of Lizzie back at The Southern Cross.

Is that how Dawn’s going to end up?

She popped one between her lips, and eyed him impatiently as she lit it. “So what, then? I really should be getting back to work you know. I don’t think my boss would appreciate me talking to someone who has no desire to fill his pay roll.”

Angel scowled. “We couldn’t have that”, he said sarcastically.

He crossed his arms assertively over his chest. “All right. I’m here because of Buffy.”

Her nose immediately turned up in distaste. “What, are you doing her one last dying wish or something, Angel? I knew you’d never be able to let her go”.

“She’s alive, Dawn”.

To her credit, the shock only filtered over her face for a second, before she quickly covered it over with a look of intense anger. “She’s back?”

“Yes”.

She pointed a black painted fingernail abruptly for the door. “Get out”.

Angel’s mouth opened in amazement. “What? Dawn, she’s your sister–“

“She’s NOTHING to me”, Dawn snapped. “This just proves how selfish she is once and for all, doesn’t it?”

“How do you know anything about it?” Angel demanded.

Dawn glared through slitted eyelids. “And you DO?” she retorted heatedly. “Just because you guys dated for a few years doesn’t mean you know her. There is a LOT you will never know about her, not if she has her way. Like why hasn’t she been back until now, huh Angel? Where the hell has she been for the last SIX years of MY life? People are dead because of her. Look where I am…” she cut herself off.

“I NEVER want to see her again, okay. EVER! You can tell her that from me, Angel. You can tell her that I have no fucking sister.”

The climax of her speech had Angel in momentary shock. He knew how Buffy’s absence had affected him, but he should have known those nearest to her might see it differently. As far as Dawn was concerned, Buffy had literally abandoned her, and he hated to admit that she was at least partially right, if what Buffy had admitted to him last night was truth.

He closed his eyes. “Can you at least tell me… what happened to the others?” he asked diffidently.

Dawn sighed, but he could see she was going to tell him. For who’s sake, he had no clue, because her sentiments on Buffy had just been made perfectly clear, and he knew she wasn’t very fond of him, either.

“Willow and Xander live in a place over by the Sector 7/8 borderline”, she muttered. “It’s a wiccan commune, so good luck trying to get access into there. You know as well as I do how hyper the vampires are on witches.”

He did know. They liked to keep witches contained from everyone else, or risk having their control threatened. Getting passage into the area of town was going to be trouble.

“Thanks, Dawn”, he said softly, and truly meant it.

She looked away from him. “I didn’t do this for you”, she muttered. “Or her. And don’t blame me if they hate her any more than I do”.

~*~*~*~*

Buffy was talking with Faith when he returned, and he had to smile when he saw them interacting. Faith was looking a lot better; he supposed her slayer powers had to have something to do with that.

“Hey guys”, he said.

Buffy glanced up, and she looked caught at the sight of him, like a rabbit trapped in headlights. It annoyed him slightly, considering all the trouble he had gone to for her this morning, but he forced himself to think of it in her perspective. Considering Dawn’s reaction, it wasn’t a surprise she expected him to give the same reception.

“Hey Ma, look what I can do”, Faith teased, hopping to her feet and striking a pose.

He grinned. “I’m glad you’re feeling better”.

“You and me both, man”, Faith exclaimed. She pounded her fist lightly against her palm. “Consider that Spike bastard dead in round two”.

Buffy remained silent, looking slightly uncomfortable at the blonde vampire’s mention.

Angel sighed. “Buffy, can I talk to you for a second?”

Faith took the hint, and started to hobble for the door. She waved off Angel’s concern as he reached out to help. “It’s all good, Angel cakes”, she reassured him. “I just need an excuse to stretch my legs before Nurse Cordy gets back and orders me back into bed”.

The brunette disappeared around the corner down the hall, and Angel turned to face Buffy, who was eyeing him warily.

“What is it?” she asked sharply.

“Buffy”, he started carefully. “I did some… talking around today, and I think… I might have found something that interests you?”

Buffy frowned at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I found Willow and Xander”.

Her mouth fell open, and she leapt to her feet.

“You… you what? How did you…?”

She breathed in slowly to calm herself. “Where are they?”

Her expression was one of anxiety, and he was glad he hadn’t told her about Dawn. He didn’t know if he would. If Willow and Xander were anything like that, then he didn’t think there was going to be much point to it.

He knew Buffy’s friends had always been the biggest source of support for her. She hadn’t remained the slayer for so long without them. If they rejected her as Dawn had, he didn’t know how she would cope. At least this way she had no idea.

“A wiccan commune”, he responded. “I found it through a… source. They live there together, apparently, so I guess that means they’re okay”.

Her gaze was distant, and she spoke more to herself than to him. “I wonder if they know where Dawn is”.

He winced. No doubt she would ask them, and there was no way to stop Buffy from going to see her, once she had her mind set to it. He also knew he really had no right to withhold the information from her. She was a big girl, as she would no doubt tell him indignantly. She could take care of herself.

So why are you? he asked himself. To protect her?

There really was no easy answer to that.

“We can go tonight”, he went on. He watched her face. “I mean, if you want to?”

She nodded slowly. “Tonight”, she repeated. “Yeah, yeah that might be a good idea”.

~*~*~*~*

This area of town was particularly dingy and unkempt, and when Buffy and Angel located the correct address, Buffy was hesitant as she forced herself to move up the walkway.

It was a one story apartment complex, what had once been a motel, considering the neon signs were still displayed, smashed and strewn across the front lawn. It was a mystery to her how Angel had found it, but he had been tight-lipped, and she had to assume it was just a contact of his that preferred to stay anonymous for their own safety.

She got that all too well.

Angel had managed to get them passes, and it was obvious just how much influence he had in the under rungs of society. Namely humans.

Buffy felt surprisingly comfortable under the shadow of night, though they had to watch what kind of people they came across. They had already passed at least two patrol groups, and the more they neared the sector line, the harder they were to avoid.

She studied Angel in the dim moonlight as they neared their destination, to quell the nervousness in her stomach if anything.

The war had done nothing to disagree with him. If anything, he had grown only more attractive, and also, strangely, like he had aged, but she knew that was impossible. Either way, the difference suited him.

The outlines of his face were more defined, probably, she mused, because he had lost weight. It couldn’t be easy gaining access to blood anymore – let alone food – even in a world ruled by vampires themselves.

His eyes though, they were haunted, even more so that they had been when plagued by the wrongs of his past. She knew the feeling.

She had to wonder why he had bothered to find her best friends for her, considering the deep amount of digging he likely would have done. The answer seemed obvious, yet she couldn’t quite allow herself to believe it.

Angel still cared.

Whether he cared for her as a friend, or… whatever they had once been to each other, she didn’t think she would ever know, and maybe it was best.

Because that could never happen.

Now as they followed the landlord’s – a stout old man with a leering gaze that made Buffy shiver – instructions, they came across the door of number six and stopped.

Buffy hesitated, and glanced back at Angel uncertainly. He nodded encouragement in the darkness. Buffy faced forward again, and steeling herself, squaring her shoulders in resolve, she knocked. Unknowing to what they would find.

They had to wait, but not for long, and the sounds of the bolt drawing away met their ears – a familiar sound these days.

A harried looking redheaded young woman’s head emerged, her gaze not focused on them but something behind her in the hall, and her voice was filled with annoyance. “Dammit, I already told you Pete, we can’t get the money ‘til Thursday…”

She trailed off as her eyes finally travelled upwards, and Buffy’s heart jolted as she was met with her best friend’s stare. Six long years she had waited for this moment.

All she could do was smile feebly.

“Hey Will”.

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