“What do you mean?” Buffy asked, her eyes wide with horror. “Did they mistake you for vampires? I don’t under — ”

“They knew who we were, Buffy,” Faith interrupted. “They knew what we were doing and they’re against us.”

“How many were there?” asked Giles, moving into the center of the room.

“About a dozen. Definitely wasn’t a fair fight. I still can’t believe any of us made it out alive.” Faith bowed her head sadly.

“Where are the bodies?” Giles asked gently.

It took Faith awhile to respond, and when she did her voice was small and raspy. “We buried them outside the city limits. Couldn’t risk the cops getting involved ‘cause you know how they like to screw things up. Plus, my record’s not exactly clean.”

“You said they were against you,” Buffy pointed out. “Why did they come after you? What did they want?”

Faith smiled mirthlessly. “They wanted us dead, B. Didn’t like what we were doing.”

“I don’t understand. Did they say anything to you? Say what they—”

“They’re angry, Buffy.” Everyone turned their heads to Spike. “You changed their lives without asking them. My guess is they found out why and they’re pissed.”

“I recognized one of the girls,” Faith informed them. “Angela. R-Robin –” She bit her lip as she gathered her composure. “He found out about her through the school.”

“The school?” asked Dawn.

“Yeah. He keeps… he kept tabs on all the teenage girls in the local schools. Teachers let him know when cheerleaders started tossing football players a couple o' yards or when girls would show up crying upset about the weird dreams they've been having. That's how we found Angela. Met up with her at one of those catholic schools, ya know with the nuns? I told her she was a Slayer, like me, and that I could help her. I said the word 'vampire' and she started shouting at me like I just called her momma a bad name. Screaming got so loud that the nuns started chasing me off the school grounds. Nasty bitches," Faith muttered as she took a breath. "She killed one of the girls. Stabbed her right in the heart with the stake she'd been carrying during patrol," she informed them with disgust.

Tears fell from Buffy's eyes as she listened to the story, horrified by every syllable.

"They killed the others just as quick. Terri and Melissa, those were their names. Then I heard Robin cry out, a-and I turned around and they'd stabbed him in the heart." Her eyes met with Buffy's and all the emotion she'd been holding inside for the sake of her pride gushed out. "H-How could they stand it?" she asked, a sob escaping her lips as anger glinted in her eyes. "How could they stand to see him b-bleed, knowing that they killed a man? How c-could they turn around and face me after... after what they did?"

Buffy couldn’t move to embrace her friend as she fell to her knees. She couldn’t turn to see the horrified faces of her friends, watching like her as Angel moved to comfort Faith. She couldn’t feel her sister’s hand on her shoulder, or see her worried eyes. She just…

Couldn’t.

 

* * * *

Faith emerged from the bathroom, face scrubbed and arms folded across her chest. After a good cry her walls were back up, and she was doing her best to show as little emotion as possible.

“So what are we going to do?” she asked, turning her eyes to Buffy.

Buffy looked up from her spot on the coffee table. “I don’t know. We can’t kill them.”

“Why the hell not?” Faith demanded, uncrossing her arms. Although she was blocking her emotions, anger somehow found a backdoor.

“Because that’s us out there, Faith,” Kennedy explained. “We’re just like those girls.”

“They are not us,” Faith spat. “We do not kill innocent people.”

“You did once.”

Faith froze, her jaw setting as she took a deep breath.

“So that justifies it?” asked Buffy, rising to her feet. “Just because a Slayer’s done it before we can all go out and kill as many people we want?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Kennedy argued. “Listen, these girls are wrong. But they’re confused and angry and I don’t think the solution is killing them.”

Faith scoffed. “So what are we supposed to do, talk to them? Pat ‘em on the back and say we’re sorry? And I’m not sure what we’re sorry for, anyway. We gave them a gift. Super strength, advanced healing? What are they so angry about?”

“A wise man once s-said,” Andrew began nervously as all eyes in the room fell on him, “that with great power comes great responsibility.”

Buffy sighed. God, this is such a mess.

“We changed their lives, Faith,” said Willow, feeling the guilt as much as Buffy since she was the one to perform the spell that awoke the power within all the former potentials.

“They never asked for this.” Buffy bowed her head. She should’ve seen this coming.

“But neither did we,” Faith replied.

“You don’t seem to have a problem with it,” Kennedy muttered.

“Excuse me?” Faith practically shouted, nearing the couch where Kennedy sat.

“Hey, we all had Watchers. We understood what would go down if we were called. They don’t. All they know is suddenly they’re different and that we’re involved.” She turned to Buffy. “Remind me why we came here again?”

“We’re here because we made a mess and we’re responsible for cleaning it up,” she replied, looking around at everyone in the room. Her eyes fell on Angel and Connor. This wasn’t their fight, but she needed them. Just like she needed Kennedy and Willow and Faith. But she couldn’t think clearly, not with all the thoughts that were running through her head. “We’re going to get some sleep. Tomorrow we’ll meet back up and try to sort this thing out. Faith, is it OK if we come here?”

She glared at Kennedy before returning her eyes to Buffy. “Sure.”

“OK. We’ve got a motel search that needs to get started.”

Everyone began to shuffle out of Faith’s apartment. Buffy locked eyes with Faith, silently reassuring her that everything would be alright while at the same time revealing to her how scared she was. As she turned to leave a hand held her back.

“Hey,” said Spike. “Listen, we’ve got a big party and Faith mentioned a couple of us staying here, so I think that’s what me and Illyria’ll do.”

“Oh. OK,” said Buffy, perplexed by his random practical thinking. Part of her was wondering why he wanted to stay behind, though. She couldn’t think about it now, however, as it was hard enough to think already. “Good. You guys stay and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“That you will,” he said with a slight smile, watching her walk out the door. She was the last out of the room so Faith closed the door behind her. Through the thin slit of window exposed behind the blue curtains Spike noticed Buffy stop. He watched her, curiously, as she placed a hand on her forehead and sighed deeply. He ached to comfort her, and just as he moved to do so he saw Angel appear behind her, his hand on her shoulder. Buffy quickly spun around and wrapped her arms about his neck. She held him close for mere seconds before pulling away and looking into his eyes gratefully.

“Take a long look, hero. I’m nothing like you.”

“No, you’re less. That’s why Buffy never really loved you – because you weren’t me.”

 

* * * *

Spike splashed the cold water over his face again, hoping it would numb all the thoughts going through his head. Just two weeks ago he’d been a vampire associated with an evil law firm, now he was a human being caught up in a Slayers’ war.

He dried his face with the hand towel and noticed a bottle of aftershave sitting on the edge of the sink. Spike picked it up and examined it in his hand. The green liquid only filled half the bottle, and he could picture the principal slapping it on his face after his morning shave.

“Poor blighter,” he muttered before returning the bottle to the spot it once occupied.

Spike’s eyes focused on the mirror in front of him. He was surprised that he didn’t jump at the sight of his own reflection; instead he leaned forward and took the time to examine his own features. Huh.

Spike opened the bathroom door moments later to find Faith and Illyria sitting on the couch drinking bottles of beer in silence.

“All right, luv?” he asked Faith.

She smiled at him weakly, though he could tell she was trying to hide it. “Illyria was just telling me about how she killed Fred and took over her body. Real inspiring stuff,” she added sarcastically. Faith tilted the mouth of the bottle to her lips and shook her head in dismay. “Who isn’t dead these days?”

“Well,” said Spike, sitting on the edge of the coffee table. “There’s me.”

She laughed half-heartedly.

“This beer is bitter,” Illyria commented, staring at the bottle in her hand like it were about to sprout feelers and skitter across the floor. She was still in Fred-mode, but anyone who’d known Fred would’ve realized it wasn’t her by the way she moved and spoke.

“So, why’d I get stuck with you guys?” Faith asked, turning to Spike. “I figured you’d want to stay close to a certain someone.”

Spike shook his head. “Me an’ Blue aren’t exactly in the popular crowd. ‘Sides, I’d probably have to share a bed with Xander. That could only lead to pain.”

Faith raised her eyebrows suggestively before taking another swig, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Spike.

 

* * * *

"Can't sleep either?"

Dawn frowned. She thought she was being stealthy. "I don't see how anyone could after tonight." She joined Connor by the pool and sighed as she sank into one of the plastic lounge chairs. "I didn't think things could get more screwed up than they are."

Connor observed the waves of the pool as he contemplated her words, watching as the lights beneath the undulating water made the world around them dance in a surreal glow. He looked up when he heard the snap of a lighter being ignited.

"You smoke?" he asked stupidly as he watched her take the initial drag from a cigarette.

She blew the smoke away from him. "Just recently. Guess you could call it a European souvenir." Her eyes widened with apprehension as she watched him. "Don't tell anyone, OK? Buffy would freak out."

Connor smiled. "Right. Killer Slayers will pale in comparison to finding out her sister has taken up smoking."

Dawn eyed him as she took another drag. "You don't know Buffy."

His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her. "So what are you?"

"Um, Taurus?"

He laughed. "No, I mean - your sister’s a Slayer, so what does that make you?"

Dawn shrugged and looked away. "Just me, actually." She sighed, the smoke pouring through her lips like vented steam, and when she noticed that he was satisfied with her answer she quickly added, "actually some monks made me out of this green energy and turned me human, giving me and everyone fake memories for the first fourteen years of my life."

"Really?" Connor replied, reacting like she'd just told him something mundane like she'd broken her arm when she was little. "I can relate. Though not with the monk thing."

Dawn turned in her seat, curling her leg beneath her as she adjusted. "Really? How's that?"

"Angel had a demon modify all my memories so that I would believe that I was raised by completely normal people."

"Oh," Dawn replied in the same casual tone. "Why do you call Angel 'Dad', then?"

Connor stared at the ground. "Guess he's growing on me. Oh, plus the box that had all my real memories in it? Wes smashed it."

Dawn sighed, smoke curling from her lips as she did so. "Wes, huh?"

"Yeah. He was a good guy, despite the fact that he's the reason I was raised in Quor-Toth."

“Oh, is that the demon dimension? When Willow told us about you she mentioned it,” she added off his confused look.

“Yeah, I don’t really remember it well. Except when I dream.”

Dawn frowned sympathetically. “Is that why you’re not sleeping?”

Connor shrugged. “It’s not…” he shook his head, deciding not to continue with his views on his ‘real’ life. His real ‘lives’, actually. “Why can’t you sleep?”

Dawn bowed her head as she ground the cigarette butt into the low brick wall behind them. “Buffy. She’s crying in her sleep. She hasn’t done that since after she died.”

Connor raised an eyebrow, somewhat impressed. “Your sister died?”

 

* * * *

Buffy awoke, her face feeling sticky. She opened her eyes momentarily before squeezing them shut, remembering the reason why she hadn’t wanted to wake up. She’d created a world full of powerful, destructive girls who she’d thought would use their powers for good; who would see their newfound strength as a gift. Instead they were angry and disgusted by what they had become, and had taken their power and used them to kill someone she knew.

You thought you were making the world a better place, she told herself, hugging her pillow tightly. But the truth is you were too scared to fight alone. You were too afraid of dying and of being alone in the world, constantly fighting forces that would eventually destroy your life, or what’s left of it. You didn’t want to be the only one.

Buffy sat up quickly in alarm, scanning the room around her. She saw Willow sitting up in the bed across from hers, hugging her knees to her chest, her eyes unfocused. “Where’s Dawn?” she asked.

 

* * * *

“God, I don’t understand ‘merican beers,” Spike slurred, staring at the bottle resting in his lap.

Faith couldn’t help but smile. “How you holdin’ up, Champ?”

Spike ignored her, idly waving a hand in front of his face. “They’re all the same. They lack the quality of European broods. Broods… brudds… brews…”

Faith chuckled as he attempted to form the word. “Damn, you can’t hold your liquor, can you?”

“Hey,” he protested, sitting up in his seat on the sofa. “I’ll ‘ave you know I wonned… once… downed three,” he held up four fingers in front of him. After a moment he realized his mistake and brought them closer to his face. “Bugger,” he muttered, tucking another finger in. “Three bottles of vodka, an’ I di’n’t feel a thing. God I loved Russia.”

“Yeah, but you were a vamp then. Don’t have that vampire’s constitution anymore. So… ya might wanna ease up on the beer.”

Faith took the bottle away from him and he whined noisily. “’S not fair! Been human for two weeks and nothin’s goin’ my way. First ‘m all chopped up eatin’ hospital food, then I get out an’ on a train. A-And she smelled good, you know? All real an’… an’ now I can’t. An’ I mean somethin’? What’s that mean, eh? I’ll never be what she wants, so what the hell am I?”

Even Illyria sent a confused look his way.

“So yeah, I can feel the sun an’ all, an’ my heart’s beatin’ in my chest and that feels…” His eyes cleared a bit as they focused on Faith. “Bloody hell.” Spike dropped his head in his hands and sighed. “’M sorry, love,” he added more soberly. “Here I am complainin’ ‘bout bein’ alive an’ you’ve just lost your man.”

Faith bowed her head. “Yeah. My man.”

“We didn’t mourn the passing of our companions in my time,” noted Illyria.

“Tha’s ‘cause your kind don’t really die, do you?” Spike replied. “Not like humans… not like us.”

“I still don’t understand the meaning of it. Wesley is dead, but I still remember his voice. His scent – how he wore the stench of sorrow and regret. I can remember his face.” She bowed her head. “Yet he cannot come back.”

Spike noticed that Faith was gripping her beer bottle tightly as she listened to Illyria’s words.

“Wes is dead?”

Illyria set her blue eyes on Faith, the orbs showing their true color for the first time since before they left L.A. Her hair and skin remained unaltered.

Faith’s eyes began to water. “Like I said,” she continued in a small voice, her hand shaking as she brought the mouth of the beer bottle to her lips. “Who isn’t dead these days?”

 

* * * *

Angel led Buffy and Willow to the inner courtyard of the hotel where the small swimming pool was located. “See? She’s with Connor.”

“Yeah,” Buffy muttered, feeling angry and relieved all at once as she saw her sister sitting by the pool. “At least he told you where he was going.”

Angel and Willow exchanged glances before following behind Buffy as she approached the two teenagers.

“Out for a late night swim?”

They both turned around in their seats. “You’re awake.”

“Very observant,” Buffy replied. “Want to tell me what you’re doing outside while there are killer Slayers on the loose?”

“We were just talking,” said Connor, noting the Slayer’s concerned irritation.

“Look,” said Dawn. “We’re in the hotel. It’s not like I was out working the streets.”

Buffy’s eyes widened momentarily at the horrifying mental image that statement brought about before shifting back into Big Sister mode. “Listen, I’d feel a whole lot better if you were back in the room. That goes for you, too,” she said to Connor, looking to Angel for support.

While Angel was worried, he knew his son wasn’t in any harm by sitting by the pool. It’s not like he was wearing a sign that said “Hey Slayers, come and get me” so he saw no reason to make the boy leave. Except Buffy was looking up at him expectantly. “You should get back,” he told his son, who shook his head at his father’s weakness for blondes.

“C’mon, guys,” said Willow encouragingly, motioning for everyone to head back to their respective rooms. Angel and Connor shared a room next to the one that Xander, Andrew and Giles were staying in on the second floor. The girls shared a room on the first, so when they reached the stairwell they parted ways.

Dawn and Connor said goodnight to each other, and as they walked away Angel pulled Willow aside and whispered. “Is there something going on between them?”

“What, Dawnie and Connor? I don’t think so…”

Angel looked up at his son and then at Dawn’s retreating back. He smiled. “I think it would be great if there was.”

Willow smiled and patted Angel on the shoulder. “This really isn’t the time to be playing matchmaker.”

 

* * * *

Faith was running the mouth of the bottle along her lower lip, pulling it down and letting it snap back up again. Spike lay passed out in her lap, and she observed him with numb amusement. She flicked him on the forehead with her index finger.

“’Sjustagame.” he slurred as he came to. “Oh, uh… where’d ‘Llyria go?” he muttered into her thigh before sitting up

Faith closed her eyes and laid her head on the back of the sofa. “She said something about the room reeking of misery and loathing before crashing in the other room.”

“So she does sleep,” Spike noted as he ran a hand over his face. “What time is it?” he mumbled into his hand.

“I dunno. Still dark out.”

Spike looked at the tired girl lying beside him on the couch. First time he saw Faith he knew she was a Slayer, not just because Buffy’d told him she was coming to town, but he could see it in the way she moved, the way she spoke, and the way she carried herself. She was feisty and full of energy. Now all he saw was a girl drained of everything but the emotions people liked to keep at the bottom of the barrel.

“So, Illyria’s in your room, huh?”

Faith turned to him. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

Spike shrugged. “Place to stay.”

She sat up and curled one leg beneath her as she turned to face him fully. “No. You were totally Jonesing for Buffy last time I saw you. You were also slightly dead and on a strict blood diet, but I thought some things didn’t change.”

“What makes you think they did?”

“You’re here.”

“That I am.”

Their eyes were locked together, and it was as if they were daring the other to look away. Neither did.

“So, I reckon you haven’t got any decent sleep the past two nights. Don’t you think you should rest?”

Faith bowed her head. “Ya know, I’m tired as hell, but I couldn’t sleep.” She fingered the hem of her pants. “Not alone.”

“I could stay with you, if you’d like.”

She met his eyes.