Dawn was helping Micah with her math homework in the kitchen while Angel made supper. Spike was tutoring Caddie in history; they had decided to educate the child at home until she reached high school. Buffy sat in the living room, her chest of weapons at hand. Her favorite battle-axe lay across her lap, and she rubbed an oiled rag across the blade, searching for any remaining rust spots. Blood was so very corrosive.

Buffy felt an odd sense of security, as if what was happening should happen. At the same time, she was plagued by a feeling of déjà vu. She couldn't stop thinking about Xander. He had been killed over two years ago by the Initiative as the young man attempted to protect Buffy and the then-unborn Caddie.

She shook her head, trying to clear it, when the doorbell rang. Buffy startled, cutting her finger against the edge of the axe blade. "That's not supposed to happen," she said to herself, setting the weapon aside. She absently stuck her finger in her mouth as she opened the door.

On the other side was a lanky, blonde young man of medium height, probably eighteen or nineteen years old. His face was pale and haggard, and he appeared to be trembling all over. "Are you Buffy? You're Buffy, right? Please, you have to help me," he babbled, his eyes wide and frightened.

Buffy removed her finger from her mouth without looking away from the boy. "Who are you?"

"I'm Andrew Wells," he said rapidly. "And if you don't help me, I'm going to be dead."

She stood aside without another word to let him into the house. As she closed the door, she caught sight of Spike eyeing the newcomer from the dining room, evaluating the threat he posed. Apparently Spike wasn't too concerned, because he almost immediately dismissed Andrew and turned his attention back to Caddie. Buffy felt a little relieved and a lot confused. When had Spike's opinion become so important to her?

"Angel!" she called. "Problem!"

He appeared with a dishcloth over one shoulder. His reaction to Andrew was pretty much the same as Spikes: a quick evaluation and immediate dismissal. "What problem?"

"Andrew Wells here claims if we don't help him, he's dead," Buffy explained.

"It's true," the boy insisted. "I'm not lying, I swear."

"Wells," Angel said musingly. "Why is that familiar?"

"Tucker Wells is my older brother," Andrew admitted. When Angel only frowned further, Andrew elaborated, "Hellhounds on prom night?"

Angel nodded then. "Right. And what is so dire that you've come to us, Andrew?"

"You're the Slayer, right?" Andrew asked Buffy. "I mean, everyone knows you're the Slayer. Everyone in the supernatural community, that is, because it's not like I go blabbing around who's the Slayer to just anyone to asks because that would be really stupid and—"

"Babble less. Talk more," Buffy interrupted.

Andrew blinked and wrapped his arms around himself, his expression once more growing terrified. "It's Warren," he whispered.

"Warren?" Buffy echoed. "Warren Mears lovebot girlfriend Warren?"

"Yeah, that Warren," Andrew said, swallowing hard.

"Why, what's he done now?" Buffy demanded.

Andrew tried to make himself as small as possible, hunching his shoulders and dropping his head. "He killed Jonathan," he said in a tiny voice.

"Jonathan who?" Angel pressed.

Andrew gave him an odd look. "Jonathan Levinson."

"WHAT?" Buffy yelled, her mind racing. No, no, no, this wasn't supposed to happen, was her first thought. Her second was, after everything I went through to save his life! That son of a bitch!

"Why?" Angel put his hand on Buffy's shoulder to calm her. "Why did Warren kill Jonathan?"

"I didn't know he was going to, I promise," Andrew said, his breath coming in gasps. "He just said we had to open the seal and we'd have more power than we'd ever imagined. He didn't say anything about blood. But he was going crazy! Talking to himself and being all secretive. It's not may fault. I swear it's not my fault!"

Caddie got up from the dining room table and walked over. She took Andrew's hand and led him to the couch, gesturing for him to sit. When he did, she sat next to him, still holding his hand. "Of course it wasn't your fault," she said gently. "Take a breath. Start from the beginning and tell us everything."

*****

"Okay, this is definitely Giles' territory," Buffy said uneasily, standing at the edge of the hole. She was flanked by Angel and Spike, who were giving the metal seal at the bottom of the hole disturbingly identical looks.

"Yeah," Angel muttered. "Didn't Andrew say Warren killed Jonathan?"

"I believe he did," Spike replied.

"So…where's the body?"

"Blood's still fresh," Spike commented with a sniff. "About two, maybe three hours old."

Angel sent his grand-childe an exasperated glare. "Thank you, Spike. I can tell that, you know."

"'M just sayin'," the vampire mumbled, glaring back.

"Look, we've confirmed Andrew's story, now we can go back home and wait until morning to get Giles' opinion on…whatever the hell that thing is," Buffy said, stepping away from the hole. "Let's get out of here. This is giving me the wiggins."

"There's a lot of dark power in here," Spike said musingly, circling around the hole. His eyes remained fixed on the seal. "It's coming from that thing. Can you feel it? It's almost intoxicating."

"Spike!" Angel said reprovingly.

"What? I'm a vampire! I'm attuned to darkness!" Spike protested. Buffy shook her head with a growl of frustration and headed for the door.

"You're going to be dating my sister-in-law," Angel told Spike as they followed the Slayer. "Maybe you should remember that before you open your mouth."

"Ours is a very twisted relationship, you know?" Spike replied.

"I don't even want to think about that!"

Buffy listened to them trade barbs until they left school grounds. "Okay, enough!" she exclaimed. "If you two seriously can't get along, I'm going to start leaving you at home," she threatened.

"He started it," they said at the same time, and then glared.

Buffy resisted the urge to smack her head against something hard and then had to restrain herself from smacking them hard. "You're children! Both of you!" She turned on her heel and began to stalk down the street. Angel and Spike followed at a distance, muttering under their breath.

"Now look, you've gone and made her mad," Spike hissed.

"Will you shut up already? God, sometimes I do not know why I bothered to convince Buffy to help you."

"Because you feel responsible. And you bloody are."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Idiot."

"Poofter."

"Guys!"

"Sorry," they both muttered, wilting under Buffy's glare. Then her eyes widened.

"Behind you!" she cried. The two men spun around, stepping backwards simultaneously to get out of range of the knives being flashed in their faces. Two hooded figures lunged out of the shadows. Buffy heard a noise and spun around to see two more converging on them. She attacked on instinct, trying to ignore the creeping horror she felt at the sight of them.

The fight was intense and deadly. Each of the attackers was armed with a knife that they wielded with prowess. It was only Slayer instinct that kept Buffy from getting hurt. She lost count of how many she was up against and just dealt with the one in front of her.

Then, as abruptly as they had come, they were gone. Buffy and Angel stood back-to-back, panting slightly with exertion. There were two bodies on the ground, and Angel used his foot to turn one over.

"Oh, God," he muttered. "That's disturbing."

It had once been human—maybe. Whatever it had been, it's eyes were sewn shut in the shape of ancient runes.

"I recognize them," Buffy whispered. They killed you, she thought, and blinked. No, that's not right. Where the hell had that come from? "In my dream. They killed the girl."

"From beneath you? That dream?"

"Yeah, that dream," Buffy replied. She shivered. It felt as if something cold had gripped her spine. "We need to talk to Giles. Now."

"Agreed," Angel said with a firm nod. He glanced around to ensure the area was secure. "Um…Buffy? Where's Spike?"