Dedicated to my lovely wife and research assistant, who makes this and all things possible.

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Episode 2: The Thousandth Man

Author's Note: This is my post-Whedon Buffyverse (before the events of Fray). It's rated Mature for some dialogue, non-graphic sexual themes, and violence.

I assume you've seen or read all five seasons of Angel and all seven seasons of Buffy. I don't consider anything except aired episodes as canon. Character death has occurred, but I don't see it being very common.

Let's pretend HBO (or whoever) picked up the rights on both shows but decided to combine them into a single series and bump up the budget. To better reflect the nature of television I focus on action and dialogue more than descriptive narrative. I sometimes use stings and hooks before I cut to a new scene, and solid lines indicate a fade out.

Chapters will comprise several scenes (about 10-15 pages worth via MSWord) and new ones should appear every couple of days. Episodes will be several chapters with the same general arc. Some episodes will be stand-alone, and some will be the seasonal arc.

I'm moving soon, so I may disappear for a little while. Everything should be sorted out by early October. I'm going to do all twenty-two episodes no matter how long it takes.

Thanks to Mutant Enemy for not suing fan-fiction writers and thanks to you for reading what we make. (If it's not presumptuous to assume that six posts qualify me as a writer.)

I hope you enjoy.

jayman

p.s. Please drop me a line at and tell me what you think. I also have spoilers available if you like them.

"Can she even do that?" Angel asked, pressing one of his hands to the back of his head.

"I guess she just did," Spike replied, his voice shaking. He took a deep breath to see if he could smell anything, but they were gone. All was quiet inside the lobby of TNIF Credit Union, the home of Illyria's portal to Vahla Ha'nesh. Willow and Kennedy stood off to one side, holding hands, waiting for someone to respond to their presence.

Sin Jinn looked between the two vampires. "Why didn't she open the portal, then?"

"Illyria just took Dawn," Spike said, agony obvious on his face. Saying it out loud seemed to change it somehow, make it more real. His eyes went vacant and he was somewhere else in his mind… standing on top of a shoddily built framework, watching everything climb away from him as Doc tossed him over casually over the side. The first fight that ever mattered, and he got played for a punk.

Spike looked to Willow pleadingly, but she was already in motion. Components bags flew out of her pockets, a table appeared out of nowhere. Willpower alone was enough for potions and beakers to begin soaring of their own volition, spreading necessary ingredients atop the table. Kennedy knew enough to stand back but a few things in the air nearly clipped Angel. He stepped over to Spike.

"I should have known." Spike said, tears streaming down his cheeks. He had his hands clasped tight, pulling his jacket around his body like a baby's blanket. "I should have seen what she was going to do."

"None of us can see the future," Angel said. He put his hand on Spike's shoulder but Spike just shrugged it off.

"I knowwhat Dawn is," Spike said. "I should have realized that Illyria would see it, too."

"Wait, what is she?" Angel asked, but Spike ignored him.

"I should have protected her." Spike crouched down, not on his knees, but not standing either, and began rocking back and forth. "I should've … I should've…"

"Great," Angel said, standing and turning to the others. "Spike's a basket case."

"I'm almost ready," Willow said, looking up with her face framed by that shock white hair. She turned pointedly to Spike. "Don't worry, we'll find her."

"You know," Xander said, with a sigh. "When I called her Buffy said this was going to happen. Her exact words were that we wouldn't be in L.A. for a full day before…"

"You're not helping," Angel said.

"I'm not trying to," Xander said, nodding towards Willow. "She's helping. What do you want me to do?"

"Enough, both of you," Willow said. "I won't let you start in on each other because you can't get your hands on the person you're really mad at."

"What do you think she's doing with Dawn?" Xander asked.

"Well, Dawn was a key…"

With every step, the world changed. Dawn's wide, innocent eyes would have melted if she were a mere mortal. Illyria dragged her on, from one dimension to the next.

"Where are we going?" Dawn asked. She'd resigned herself to the current situation, deciding there was nothing to do but wait for help. She ran along behind Illyria, trying to keep up.

"I require an individual." Illyria didn't stop moving, didn't turn back. She didn't care to explain things to Dawn. She didn't have the right words yet anyway. Instead she just charged ahead.

"What's that got to do with me?" Dawn asked.

"I will tell you when we get back to the bank," Illyria said.

"So we will be back there then?" Dawn felt the first bit of hope since she'd met the fallen god.

"I'm not sure," Illyria said.

So much for hope. The blur around them suddenly came into sharp relief. They were in a deep pit, possibly the deepest Dawn had ever seen. She and Illyria were standing alone atop an ocean of ice, and all around them were holes that lead down into tunnels below the surface. At the very center, six stories tall, stood the Morningstar himself, his terrible howling and flapping wings beyond words, beyond description.

Dawn felt a sudden pull on her arm, but it wasn't because of any kind of jerking. Instead it was as though Illyria had reached into her body and was pulling at her very center of being. The energy coursed and flowed along her arm and into the God-king.

A bubbling and hissing started to issue from the ice in front of them. After a few minutes a figure began to emerge from the steam. Illyria stood and looked down upon the only being that she actually gave a damn for, his body twisted and broken, encased to his crown in ice.

"Wesley," she said, stepping forward. She didn't let go of Dawn, instead using her free hand to start ripping chains and ice and other bindings from of him. The howls seemed to increase in intensity, as if the insects were finally worth notice.

"Fred?" Wesley barely opened one eye, the other swollen and bruised.

Illyria paused before answering but it was hardly noticeable. "No. It's me."

"Oh." He tried to look around. "Where are we?"

"You'd rather not know," Illyria said.

Dawn stared around, wide-eyed, trying not to completely freak out.

"I always want to know," Wesley said.

"You're in hell."

"Oh, God," he said, causing the beast in the center of the ocean to redouble his howling. "I can't go back. I can't face them again, not after…"

"What's the last thing you remember?" Illyria asked.

"I've been here for days," Wesley said. "You lied for me."

"I will do so once more," Illyria said. "You do not have a choice about returning, but I may be able to make it easier for you."

"I failed them all, so many times … just leave me here."

"No." Illyria said it flatly and without hesitation.

Dawn felt the strange pull again, and before long Illyria presented Wesley with a mask. It was made out of some kind of leather-wrapped wood. High cheekbones and a fang-filled mouth were its most noticeable features but the eyes looked like they were made of glass, strangely inanimate. It was almost possible that this was an actual ripped off face. As Illyria slipped it over Wesley's head, his body began to change.

"Stand back," Willow said.

Everyone moved out of the center of the room. As they did so, Illyria, Dawn, and something else shimmered into being.

Illyria immediately let go of Dawn. A bright red ring surrounded Dawn's sore wrist, but no one was paying much attention to that now. Illyria fended off blows from both Spike and Angel as the creature that had returned with them stood silently watching.

It was at least seven feet tall with vestigial wings on his back that were barely a yard across. Arms the size of Wesley's thigh led to a chest the size of a beer keg. A receding line of ridged crests ran from his forehead to between the wings. In between each finger (but not the thumb) were claws that sprang out when needed. He stood glowering, but not getting involved in the fight.

Xander had his hands on Dawn's upper arms. "What happened to you? Where did she take you?"

Illyria answered instead, still easily defending herself from both vampires. "I was left without a Qua'Hazan. I went to get my first."

Dawn looked over at Illyria, but didn't say anything to contradict her.

"Why him?" Spike asked.

"It does not matter who I am," Wesley said from inside the demon. "It only matters that I am here."

Xander pushed Dawn behind him as he turned to confront Illyria. Of all the people present, he had the most reason to fear the Old One, yet he didn't show it.

"Why?" Xander demanded.

"When I first saw Dawn I immediately realized that something was going on with my powers. They were growing, as I stood there, restoring themselves."

Angel and Spike seemed ready to jump her with any wrong word, but Bethany and Gwen stood near the other girls, waiting, all of them waiting for Willow's reaction.

Illyria continued. "I realized that it was because your key was weakening the barrier between this dimension and the one you created to contain my essence. I was able to use your key," she said. "Dawn, is it? She enabled me to travel as I once did."

"Are you hurt?" Willow asked, finally noticing Dawn's wrist.

"No, I'm fine." Dawn was looking at Illyria, wondering why they didn't just say that it was Wesley. But Illyria was as unreadable as a stone.

"You ask," Angel said, poking his finger into Illyria's chest. "When you want to use other people's stuff you ask. When you want to use other people you damn well better ask. Them and me, from now on."

"I didn't have time to decide. I wasn't sure if it was permanent or not. I saw an opportunity so I took it. You would have done no less, Champion."

"I don't care. Next time, you ask."

Some time later, most of them were in an office lounge that was furnished much like a living room. Dawn had her feet tucked up underneath her, folded tight into a recliner. Kennedy was lying on the floor playing a video game but still paying attention. Willow, Angel, and Spike sat around the coffee table, discussing options.

"So you're pretty sure this is Wolfram & Hart's doing?" Willow asked.

"So far, anyway. It could also be what's left of the Circle." Angel had papers spread out in front of him, the last remains of the records they'd obtained from the law firm.

"It could be both," Spike said. "Maybe they're both doing this."

"Can't you sense anything?" Angel asked. "Tell us how long this going to last?"

"Look, we can't bloody well kill every demon in the city now. We're under siege. This is bad."

"We don't have much of a choice," Angel said.

"I can make it easier," Willow said. "Let's wait until tomorrow before we get utterly defeatist. I think I can bring back the sun."

"Well, that's something, at least," Spike said.

"The demons won't be as strong in the daylight, but they won't be gone either," Willow said.

"At least not yet, right?" Kennedy asked from the floor.

"Yeah," Willow said, laughing.

"Where's Xander at?" Dawn suddenly asked.

Kennedy spun around to look at her. "He went with Connor somewhere. Didn't he tell you?"

"No…" Dawn's voice trailed off into silence.

"Well he should be back soon," Kennedy said. "Bethany, Gwen, Connor, and Xander all went out to look at something."

"Ok," Dawn said, but the tone of her voice indicated that it was anything but.

"What's wrong, Dawn?" Angel asked. "Do you want to go talk now?"

"Yeah, let's." Dawn stood up and followed him into the hallway. They walked together down several doors and went into another lounge. There were several vending machines in this one; it appeared to be a break room. There were several tables with wooden chairs stacked on top. No carpeting covered the bare linoleum floor, but it was in dire need of a good buffing, with scratches and gouges all over the place.

Angel led Dawn into the room, and then turned around to face her. "Ok, what's up?"

"Well, I'm not sure how to explain this…" Dawn began.

"It's ok, just blurt it out and we'll deal with it, whatever it is."

"Well, I'm sick of Buffy and everyone else over there treating me like some kind of second class citizen."

"You don't think your sister respects you?" Angel asked.

"I know she doesn't. If it wasn't for some magically pre-programmed emotions I don't even think she'd like me."

"What are you talking about?"

"That's right, you weren't really around for any of this," Dawn said. She pulled a chair down off one of the tables and sat down in it. Angel paced back and forth in front of her.

"Around for what?"

"Well, you remember Buffy died saving me from Glory?" Dawn asked.

"Yeah, Willow came and told us about it."

"Well, I was created a couple months before that. I'm only about four years old," Dawn said.

Angel didn't bother interrupting her with any more stupid questions. She laid it all out plainly for him, filling in the blanks in the story that Willow had given him. She told him how Glory had come to Sunnydale looking for a key to her home dimension, and how the monks who were hiding it gave it a human form by magically cloning the Slayer.

"So that's where the dragon came from?" Angel said rhetorically.

"I guess so," Dawn said. "We were more worried about Buffy right after it happened, I don't think anyone ever tracked it down."

"Someone did or it wouldn't be here."

"Here?" Dawn asked, shocked.

Angel dropped a few coins in the soda machine, and handed Dawn a Mountain Dew.

"Yeah. I saw it when everything went to hell," he said.

"So now you know what happened to me, and why Illyria was able to do what she did."

"Yes," Angel said. "But I still don't know what you want my help with."

"I want you to treat me like a grown-up." Dawn didn't pout, but the fact that she was close to it seemed to say something about her actual maturity.

"You may remove the mask now, if you wish," Illyria said.

Wesley reached up and fumbled with his head. Illyria took a few steps towards him and easily pulled the face free. Wesley immediately began to shrink, losing nearly a foot of height. His arms and legs thinned down, and before long he was in his normal form. But it was agonizing, and he was covered with sweat and shaking by the time it was done.

"I feel less human when I'm wearing that thing," he said at last.

"It is to be expected. You are not meant for such power."

They were in a much smaller office. A single desk and a chair were the only furnishings. Not even a lamp decorated the sparse place, the only illumination from the overhead lights. The floor was carpeted, but with that short pile carpet that every office has. The windows were quite grand, however, built before this room's purpose was decided. The view was not, though, because the building was much taller compared to its neighbors when it was constructed.

"Thank you," Wesley said. "For not telling them."

"You owe me nothing." It was a profound statement considering the source.

"I just don't want to deal with their reactions yet. I don't know if they want me back."

"I want you back," Illyria said.

"Badly enough to go to hell for me," Wesley replied.

"The others may have questions for you. You will find the answers readily when you have the mask on. You are nearly of one mind with me, although it is more like an open connection than an overwriting one."

"You mean we're telepathic?"

"That's one way to say it. Although not so much as in thinking directly to one another, merely that you will know what I know when we are linked as such."

"How long can I wear the mask before it starts to affect me permanently?"

"You should have a couple of months at least. Long enough to relearn your magics."

"Not that I can start without my books." Wesley's gentle voice was almost back to normal.

"We will go to the law firm. Somewhere in that rubble are your things."

Six legs twitched in the air, as the half-spider, half-man finally expired. Connor stood up from the body, ichor soaked to his elbows. Xander stood to one side, Bethany was further behind him in the alley. Gwen had stayed behind to protect the car.

"That was icky," Xander said, gingerly stepping around the fresh corpse.

"But necessary," Connor said, wiping his arms on the creature's shawl.

"Oh, I agree," Xander said. "Necessary but nasty."

Bethany picked up the other end of the shawl and helped Connor clean himself off. He flashed her a smile. They weren't far from the hotel. Connor had decided that if people tried to find Angel there, it might be a good idea to keep an eye on the place.

But after the dragon had sighted Gwen and Bethany last time, the demons were apparently of the same mind. The streets surrounding the old hotel were literally crawling with horrible things better left in the dark corners of a twisted imagination. Connor was adamant that they make it all the way to the hotel, and check inside. He'd been willing to leave the others behind if necessary.

"Help!" someone screamed. The three of them looked at each other.

"It came from up there," Connor said, pointing to a window on the third floor of a building nearby.

Connor grabbed Bethany's hand and pulled her along. Xander kept up as best he could, holding a flashlight in one hand and an MP5 from the Gunn-men in the other. They hurdled debris and rubble, quickly making their way to the wall beneath the window.

"Would you do the honors?" Connor asked Bethany.

"Certainly," she said. Connor started to rise up in the air. The woman in the window watched, relieved, as the first humans she'd seen in days rose up to greet her like Superman.

"Oh thank god," she said, climbing out of the window and into Connor's arms. "This building is crawling with those things."

"Cordelia?" he asked, nearly dropping her.

"Yes, but there's too much to explain now, and I don't want to go over it again."

Connor leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled back ever so slightly.

"I'm sorry," she said.

Bethany lowered the pair to the ground. Xander ran up and hugged Cordy, tears of joy streaking the dirt on his face. "I thought you were dead," he said.

"So did I," she said. "But I'll explain everything when we get back to the hotel."

"We're not going to the hotel," Connor said.

"We have a car," Xander said. "This way."

Buffy and Giles were in his flat in London with the other Slayers. They were all involved in various activities, and Buffy was on the phone.

"We're getting our asses kicked, B."

Buffy grimaced, before realized that Faith couldn't see it over the line. "What's going on?" she asked.

"There's this vamp bastard coming out of, I don't know, somewhere east. He's got us pushed back against the walls, but it seems like he's still just toying with us."

"You got help on the way," Buffy said, twirling the line around her finger.

"Really?" Faith asked. "Who?"

"Xander should be there soon," Buffy said. "And Willow and Kennedy should be along after that. Unless they meet up somewhere and come together."

"That kicks so much fucking ass," Faith said. "Look, I gotta jet. You ok, sis?"

Buffy frowned, glad this time that her expressions didn't travel. "Yeah, we're all good here. The Immortal chased us, but we're hiding now. We should be back in the States in a few days."

"Ok," Faith said. "Later."

Buffy hung up the phone and looked over at Giles and Andrew, who had their heads pressed together over a folder full of papers.

"What are you two so into?" Buffy asked.

"We're trying to figure out who I'm going to train," Andrew said.

"Why don't you just ask the girls which one is willing to put up with you?" Buffy grinned.

"Very funny," Giles said. He handed another paper to Andrew.

"What exactly are you qualified to teach?" Buffy asked, not at all sarcastically.

"Vampires, basic ritual magic," Andrew ticked items off on his fingers as he recounted. "Some combat, at least theory."

"Compared to what the girls know now," Giles said, "it would be an improvement."

"I'm teaching them." Buffy didn't glare, but it took restraint.

"You can't give each one the personal attention they require."

"And Andrew can?" Buffy looked him over like a piece of meat, and he was obviously not measuring up.

"No. But he can take one. And I can take one. And there are others coming." Giles raised his hand to Buffy, palm outward. "This is no insult to you Buffy, or your skills as a Slayer. All we are doing is getting things back to the way they used to be."

"It's about time, I guess," Buffy said.