Note for Readers: As far as the BtVS Season 8 comics are concerned, this story is AU. It will, however, utilise one element of the comics' storyline. What happens regarding that plot element will be entirely different from the events of the comics.

Warning: There's one instance of swearing in this chapter.

-Previously-

It's late – around midnight – when she hears someone approach. She looks at Spike. "Get up. Someone's here."

He pulls himself to his feet, and reaches for his discarded weapon before turning to the doors.

They watch as the doors open, and a solitary figure enters. They both entertain the thought that Angel has found them, but they are disappointed when the figure steps close enough for the candle-light to show his face. It isn't Angel. This person is far too young, still only a boy really. He wears a long, dark-coloured jacket and carries a rucksack, and he is armed. He looks from Illyria to Spike and back again.

"Where's Angel?"

-(spacespacespace)-

Illyria looks from the boy to Spike, and sees that Spike is a little the worse for wear (how much of that poison has he imbibed? She thinks). She turns back to the boy.

"Angel is not here. Who are you, human boy?"

"I'm Connor. Angel's my father. I need to know if he's all right."

"Angel had a… son? Why did he not speak of this?"

"He wanted me to grow up normal. Now do you know where he is or not?"

"No. I have not seen him for several hours."

Connor was studying her face. "Wait… Fred? What's with the blue?"

"I am Illyria. Winifred Burkle was the previous occupant of this shell. She is gone. Though some of her memories remain… they were changed. You are not in them, but clearly you know of her.This is strange to me."

"You killed Fred? And stole her body?"

"I was resurrected, in a time and place not of my choosing. I was not able to choose a shell for myself. I did not purposefully kill anyone."

"Yeah. Okay, maybe that's true. I'll be watching you, though, 'Illyria'." He shot one last look at her, and went to sit down.

"So. What happened? I know about the demons marauding through the city, I had a job getting past them on my way here. What happened to my father… and Wesley… and Gunn?"

"Wesley is dead. Charles Gunn fell in battle. We do not know where your father is. We killed the members of the Circle of the Black Thorn, an organisation of powerful entities. The Senior Partners of Wolfram and Hart unleashed an army of demons and monsters in retaliation. They did not want us to destroy the Circle."

"Oh."

"What will you do now, boy?"

"Keep looking for my father. And help in whatever way I can."

"That is very brave of you."

"What about you? You two just gonna sit here from now on?"

"We are waiting. For the situation to improve, or for Angel to return, or for some other person to advise us as to the most appropriate course of action."

"So you're just going to sit here? Huh."
"Why? What would you suggest, boy?"

"Get out there. Help the humans who can't escape. Fight the demons. Maybe find my father. Actually do something that might help."

Illyria was about to reply, when Spike interrupted. "No good."

"Excuse me?"

"All that hero stuff you were talking about. It's no good." The bleach-blond vampire looked straight at him. "It's just us. We both got injured in the battle, and we were lucky to escape alive and in one piece, kid. And you… you're keen, and you've got weapons, but there are demons out there that would still tear you in two without blinking. And I don't think your dad would be too happy 'bout that, if we ever find him. So, very commendable, you wantin' to play hero, but really, don't. You'll just get yourself killed, and there'll be one less person around to fight the good fight."

Connor looks sullen, the way only a teenage boy can. After a long moment, he says "Yeah. I guess you're right.". He looks at the floor while he says it, not looking directly at Spike.

"Good kid. We'll figure something out. You just need to learn a little patience… how old are you, kid?"

"I'm 19. And my name is Connor, not 'kid'."
"Touché. Yeah… if you're anything like I was when I was 19, patience is something you're a little short on."

Connor smiles, grudgingly. He stays in the hotel with the very-nearly-drunk vampire and the grieving, shaken god-king.

-(spacespacespace)-

Lindsey left the house, but stopped dead (metaphorically speaking) when he hit the street. Los Angeles had been devastated, or at least this street had been. Bodies – human and demon – lay in the street, many buildings were reduced to rubble.

"Fuck." He took a deep breath, and reminded himself that he needed to find out if any of Angel's group had survived. And then something happened to make everything worse. He doubled over in pain as a Vision came to him… he did his best to remember the images and words he was shown… and one word in particular: Twilight. When the pain passed, he straightened up, checked that he had his sword, and set off to find the others. The Powers had also shown him an abandoned hotel, the Hyperion. He recognised it from old W&H files as the base that Angel Investigations had once used, back when there was an Angel Investigations. He figured that if anyone survived, they'd most likely head back there – familiar territory and all.

He makes his way to the hotel. It's not easy – it's getting dark, and the streets are populated by a lot more demons and vampires than normal. He kills more than one before he reaches the Hyperion. When he does arrive, his already blood-stained shirt is torn and smeared with what passes for blood in the demons he killed. He stops just outside the doors, catches his breath, pushes his hair back from his face.

He wonders what he's going to tell them. He can see the glow of candlelight and shadowy figures – three of them, he thinks – inside the hotel, so he knows someone survived. He takes a deep breath, adjusts his grip on his sword, and pushes the door open.

-(spacespacespace)-

Illyria whips around at the sound of the door opening. Connor is on his feet instantly. Spike manages to stand up and look threatening. They see the newcomer enter… again, it is not Angel.

This person is shorter, with longish hair that falls across his face. He looks tired and battle-stained… his clothes are torn and dirty. He carries a sword, in the easy manner of a man who knows how to use it and isn't afraid to.

Connor approaches him. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"I'm looking for Angel." There's a slight Texan twang to his accent, almost hidden by years in L.A. "Is he here?"

"No. Who are you?"

He sighs. "Fine. My name is Lindsey McDonald. I was sent to help Angel, or whoever's left of his team if Angel's not around."

"How do you know my father?"

Lindsey looks at the agitated boy in front of him, and does the slightest of double-takes, though to his credit he hides it well. "You're… you're Connor…"

"Yeah. Answer my question."
"We've come up against each other a few times in the past. And I helped him eradicate the Circle of the Black Thorn, before all this happened."

Connor looks to Illyria and Spike. "Is he telling the truth?"

Illyria nods curtly. "I recall his presence at Wolfram and Hart before the battle. He was sent to kill some demons, with the green-skinned one. After they left, I did not see either of them return."

"Right." He turns back to Lindsey. "So where were you, then? Did you just decide to find a nice safe place to hide until it was over?"

"I was dead, okay, kid?"

Now it's Connor's turn for a double-take. "You were what?"

"I was dead. The green guy, Lorne. He killed me. I'm fairly certain it was on Angel's orders."

"Lorne? No, he would never… what do you mean on Angel's orders?"

"Look, kid, your dad and I used to be enemies. He doesn't trust me. He's probably right not to. He told me what I wanted to hear, used me to destroy the Circle, and used Lorne to get rid of me. I was a loose end that needed tying up." He almost spits that last sentence, his face distorted with suppressed anger. It's evident that he feels strongly about that.

"So why come back here? If my father had you killed… why show up here wanting to help?"

"I told you, I was sent." He walks over to the nearest seat and sits down. "I died. My soul… went somewhere. I don't know where, there was light and a voice, some kind of presence. I think… the voice was some kind of representation of the Powers That Be. That's what it told me, anyway. It told me that I wasn't supposed to die yet, and that I was being sent back. And it told me I'd get visions, that I was supposed to use to help Angel, or whoever was still around." He leaves out the part about being a potential champion. He doesn't understand that himself yet.

"So what, the "powers that be" just send you visions of important stuff for you to pass on?"

"As far as I can tell, yeah."

"Had any visions yet?"

"Yeah. Do you want to know what I saw? Because I'm starting to think maybe waiting for Angel would be a better idea."

Illyria interrupts. She's been listening carefully to their conversation. "That may not be wise. It is not certain that Angel will return. If you have information, you should share it."

Spike is sitting slumped in an armchair. He looks up suddenly, recognising Lindsey for the first time. "You!"

Lindsey sees him. "Spike. I see you survived."
"What're you doing here?"
"Looking for Angel, but according to the kid he's not here."

"The kid's right. Haven't seen Angel in over a day now."

Connor butts in, looking indignant. "I do have a name, you know…" but he is cut off by Spike and Lindsey saying at the same time "Shut up, kid." He glowers at them and sits down.

"So, what d'you want with Angel then?"
"The Powers That Be sent me. After your green friend Lorne killed me, they brought me back. With visions."

"Seems to me you said you had visions from the Powers before. 'Cept you were callin' yerself Doyle then, weren't you?"

"This is different. These are real."
"Prove it."
"I had one when I was coming here. Does the word Twilight mean anything to you?"

"Nah. You could've made that up, mate."

Lindsey shows Spike the bullet holes in his shirt (he's suddenly glad he didn't stop to look for new clothes). "See? That's where I was shot."

Spike looks from his face to the bullet holes. "All right. You were shot. Dunno 'bout this vision of yours though. You see anything beside "twilight"?"

"Yeah." Lindsey looks around, finding a pencil and a scrap of paper. He sketches a rough symbol – a straight line, a curve, a star. "That symbol might just mean 'twilight', it might mean something else. But whatever it is, it means something big is going to happen."
"Bigger than what already happened?"
"Much. And there's something else."
"Oh?"

"Slayers. I saw Slayers. And a girl… not a Slayer, but she's familiar with them. Part of their organisation, but she's young. Around eighteen years old, maybe."

"What's this girl look like?"

Lindsey closes his eyes, remembering his vision. "Tall. Long brown hair. Blue eyes. She has an air of… innocence around her, but at the same time she feels much older than she looks. It's as if she used to be something else, something very, very old."

"Oh." Spike knows who the girl is. "I know this girl, mate. Or I think I do. How sure are you about this?"
"I'm sure. Why?"
"The girl… her name is Dawn Summers. She's Buffy Summers' little sister, and she's the Key. Or she used to be, it's complicated."