She hated nights in general. She really, truly did. Darkness had been her cover when she arrived here when the light had followed her, trying to expose her, but anywhere else the night always made her feel vulnerable. Sleeping hadn't come easy in a decades time but even when she was able to go down for a night it was always restless. Even in times where she was supposed to be temporarily safe, she never really felt like it. If she relaxed she always felt like something bad was going to happen.

And the nightmares, well, they sure didn't help anything.

Buffy was almost entirely healed from her attack in the woods so there had been no medication haze to find herself lost in tonight. She was already down in dosages needed in such a short time. So, instead, Buffy found herself tossing and turning through the hours, waking up with a silent scream falling from her lips, images from a past reality colliding with all the ones of various 'what if' situations playing through her mind.

Unable to take anymore, she pulled herself out from the bed, went to splash some water on her face, get a quick drink and then go roam through the halls of the large mansion.

Even though she had pretty much been given permission, she still felt like she was doing something wrong as she wandered through the home of the king, like she was sneaking around. She encountered very few people on the journey, all of which asked her if she were alright or if she needed anything but otherwise left her alone and continued about what she was doing, though there were those looks she got... like they were just dying to ask her something, and she had a pretty good idea of what the subject matter of those questions would be.

Going up to one of the floors she hadn't been to before, Buffy's eyes grew big as looked around. It was pretty much a mini-museum set up of the history of Wolfram And Hart. One of the things she planned to do was catch up on her history of this place, from the source itself, so this was an unexpected treat.

She was going from one point to another, looking in cases, reading plaques, gazing at the faces in paintings on the walls when she suddenly heard the sound of liquid in a glass with ice clinking around. Spinning, her eyes scanned until she found the source. She had no idea how long he'd been sitting in here but didn't ask. Instead the two of them stared at one another until she spun back around, going back to what she was doing.

For some reason, every time he was near she felt like something was tugging on her insides. He made her nervous yet somehow relaxed at the same time.

Swallowing, she looked up at the painting on the wall in front of her. "Obviously you get your looks from your mother's side of the family," she finally spoke.

She heard him snort behind her and her own lips twitched upward at the sound. Buffy heard the soft rustling behind her, the sounds of his glass again and turned back around to find him standing, then watched as he came closer. His eyes gazed over her before going to the wall, a darkness shadowing in them as he looked at the face hanging there.

Her own eyes returned once again to the painting. "I honestly don't remember ever hearing much about him," she said, then felt awkward about her choice of words. This was hardly the best subject to breech with him. She didn't know much about his father but what she had heard and remembered none of it was exactly good.

"It doesn't seem he made much of a lasting impression," Angelus said before she could apologize. "Here... there's a few ever-lasting made choices, but otherwise the only thing anyone seems to remember about him is he killed himself."

"I'm sorry," she said after a brief moment of silence.

He shrugged, taking a drink.

"Did you and him have a good relationship?" she asked, again feeling awkward. In her mind she cursed herself out for not just excusing herself from all of this or at least attempting to change the subject.

Another drink, then a sad laughter followed. "My father... he was emotionally, verbally, mentally and physically abusive," the king told her. "Most of my childhood was spent locked away in a basement, hidden, chained up, starved and alone. He usually wasn't around but when he was I became the punching bag for everything wrong with his life, with the world, who knows. He wasted no time in telling me just what he thought about me... how I was nothing but a mistake, that I was worthless, so on... so forth."

Her breath sucked in a little as she listened, her heart burning for him. "That's awful," she whispered. "I am so sorry."

He took another drink, his free hand coming to rest on the back of a chair that went to the desk in front of them. "It was hardly his fault," he said, though his tone sounded bitter as he spoke, almost like it was through gritted teeth.

Her eyes narrowed at him. "Why? Are you under some delusion that you deserved to be treated like that?"

He looked down, his lips twitching into an odd smirk. He shook his head. "No," he let out with a sigh. "Nothing like like." Angelus paused. "Hart's..." his head turned upward a little, "Well, Hart's don't have hearts," he told her, then lifted the glass to his lips, finishing it off.

Her eyebrow lifted. "Hart's don't have... hearts?" she questioned. "What does that mean? You... don't have a heart?"

He sighed. "Oh, there's one there, physically" he answered. "One extra part of our dear ol' curse though... Hart's are unlovable and unable to love," he told her. "We are nothing but damage folk. There's compassion, empathy, anger, sadness, desire... there's emotion, just never that one. We are cold and cruel, quite a lovely bunch really. Lucky folk we are."

Buffy let that sink in the gave him a hard look. "That still wouldn't excuse his actions. Whether someone loves you or not, even if they are incapable of such a feeling, there's still right from wrong, correct? Obviously you have some sense when it comes to that. So whether he loved your or not that does not give him any excuse or right to have tortured you."

He let out a sad laugh. "Oh, maybe you were right then. Maybe I just excuse it out of some twisted delusion. Maybe some part of me believed or maybe even to this day still believes still that I deserved it. I don't know."

She looked him over, her heart heavy. At times she felt like the two of them were kindred spirits in the most depressing ways.

OoOoO

Angelus pulled himself away, his eyes going to the now-empty glass in his hands. He silently wished he'd grabbed a bigger glass, or just taken the whole bottle, if not a few, with him. His head hurt from everything he'd learned earlier from Giles and Wes. He'd about taken Rupert's head off when he went off with his insane theories about the girl, especially ones that came back to him. In the midst of it all he'd finally told the two men about the incident with the ghost-like woman in the mirror, which only excited the two of them more. Unable to deal with it anymore, he stormed out and came up here.

Then she had to show up. And that was not helping matters any.

She made the world fuzzy.

OoOoO

Buffy had grown up the product of the wonders of True Love, she'd heard her parents story, the power behind it, some of what that was supposed to mean for her and so on over her twenty years time but she knew nothing of love from personal experience. True or otherwise. She hadn't been faced with lust, not even a likage to someone. Sure, she thought there more some attractive men out there that she had seen but nothing went beyond that.

When she was younger, she could remember having a crush or two, but nothing that stood out. And when her world fell down... there was nothing. All of her time and energy was spent on hiding, getting away, living to see another day. She had no connections to anyone. She had spoken to various people, been helped out several times by strangers, but she'd had no one. Let alone some romantic involvement.

Pressing her lips together, she let her eyes glance over, taking in the king beside her. She couldn't imagine him unable to find love, curse or not. While she'd only heard awful things about his father, she'd only really ever heard positives about him. Being around him, even for such a brief period of time, it made it even harder to imagine him as 'unlovable.' He was strikingly handsome, no way around that. The king had a way of making you feel at ease, for the most part anyway, which was no small feat in her case. If nothing else, he was so damaged that all you wanted to do was take all that pain away.

The way he made her feel at times... she was sure any girl would be swooning at such a thing. The sound of his voice, the way it'd felt being held in his arms, the shock through her entire system she felt when he'd touched her in effort to help her back in the woods... Shaking her head, she cleared her throat, then, "Well, aren't you going to ask me?"

"Ask you what exactly?" His eyes slowly lifted to meet hers.

She tried to smile. "About my relationship with my father?"

His eyes held hers for what seemed like an eternity. "You haven't exactly been forthcoming about yourself, so no, not really."

She looked away, then down at her fingers that were tapping together. In her head she questioned what she was doing. It'd meant to be banter-y fun but talk about family with her was never a good idea. First there was his misfortunes, now here she was practically inviting her own demons out to play.

Buffy first thought about her father, Ethan. Her body warmed like it was being sun-kissed at even the thought of him... his smiling face, the way he'd look at her mother, how he'd pick her up in the air and spin their bodies around and around. It'd always been hidden, a secret, her and her mother seeing him. She was vague on her earliest memories but when she got older she never really questioned how they went about it. She took to it, went with the story told to her, kept it a secret from everyone else. It was like a game almost.

She remembered playing with him, tea parties, dancing, learning how to ride a horse. She remembered being young and carefree. When she got older, things turned a little more serious, and she began to realize the situation she was in. Coming to him with concerns, he began teaching and sharing with her many other things... learning how to hunt, for example, in the event something bad were ever to arise...

And soon those happy memories started to fade... she began to remember the last few times she was her father, his family... her family...

Buffy thought of Hank then. He was her acting father, her technical step-father... though he hadn't known that for half of her life. She couldn't remember ever being exactly fond of him, but at least when she was younger she had some good memories, some connection to him. As she got older however she began to drift away... from being closer to Ethan, seeing how miserable her mother always was, noticing how he was never much of a father to her really...

She remembered how distant he always seemed to be with her, how she was always some sort of trophy or something in public but behind closed doors didn't know what to do with her. More and more as she got older, too. And then... when their world all fell... she remembered him then... how cold and heartless he was, how he tortured those she loved, killed them without batting an eyelash. She remembered the hate on his face, radiating from him as he looked at her...

Buffy closed her eyes, wishing the images that haunted her away. She shook her head, then noticed his eyes on her. Her head turned and again her green eyes met his brown ones. She wasn't sure if it was the look on his face, the feeling in the air, the pressure from the silence, or what... but in that moment it was like he could see into her soul, as if he could see exactly what her mind was showing, how it was tearing at her heart.

His hand slowly came up, fingers gently brushing her shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

She searched his face another moment before swallowing. "You know, don't you?"

OoOoO

The worlds as a whole were in a single line, stretching from one end to another, kingdoms ranging greatly from one to another. Each land, each kingdom was greatly different from the rest. From the way they governed to their customs to the very look of their particular area. Each of the kingdoms were unique, though each also shared a number of qualities all the same.

None were more mysterious than Wolfram and Hart though, especially not since the curse. They'd always been something to talk about but after the curse came to be they went into legendary status to the rest of the worlds. Actually being in The Dark Realm didn't exactly clear much up either, Buffy learned. More questions popped up no matter how many answers she found. And many questions remained without.

The kingdom was shut out from the rest of the worlds... there was an entire wall doming them in all around from one side to another, from the bottom of the ground to the top of the sky. Yet there was the sky, there was the sun, the moon and the stars. The curse had brought their dreadful weather but had never flooded them into complete oblivion. No matter how much the rain poured down, it seemed to remain consistent with how it effected each area. Houses and other buildings were able to be built and remain without being washed away, roads were built and while they were always covered in water it remained more or less at the same height, parts of the woods on one side were always waist-deep to the average man or woman, ect. They were not heavily populated after the curse set in, but had still managed to survive, and without inbreeding becoming the way of life. They worked around not having proper sunlight to grow food, their animals and people adapted to their surroundings, despite being cut off from other worlds the majority of the time they had learned many of the modern ways of life from transportation to communication.

There were photographs and videos of Wolfram and Hart that the others had, but it was still hard to imagine their world outside of these walls. What they were living with was so unheard of and how could anyone truly imagine it?

Their people were just as mysterious. It was known that everyone here had magic in them and that it could range from something simple to being something dangerous. Fro being here herself she'd gotten to know a little more about this... that they had people here who were healers-like Wesley to people who got flashes of the future - like Tara.

At every twist and turn it seemed like there was something new to learn here. So as she couldn't get back to sleep, she'd gone to one of the libraries and set out on doing her own research.

OoOoO

When the large double doors of the library opened, Buffy yawned, rubbing her eyes. Soon she spotted Angelus and her breath sucked in tight when his eyes met hers. She didn't know what was happening to her but ever since their previous meeting she had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach every time she even thought about him.

Angelus' head tilted as his eyes locked in on hers. He looked tired and surprised to see her... and something else she couldn't quite place. He took a few steps towards her. "I thought you left," he said, his voice rather hoarse.

She swallowed. "I... I did," she answered, feeling like she was on autopilot.

The two stared at one another, almost like in a trance. Both looked like there was more they wanted to add, Buffy knew there were a long line of things running through her head, but nothing came.

Finally Wesley cleared his throat and reminded everyone there was a busy morning ahead and started leading Angelus away.

OoOoO

As Buffy watched them fade out of sight, her mind began wandering back to just hours before when she'd last been around the king, learning he'd figured out who she really was.

Angelus had sighed, dropping his hand from her. "Giles had a theory," he'd told her.

She swallowed hard, taking a step back. "A theory about what?" she questioned, her tone having a hint of sharpness to it.

He'd turned from her, taking small steps around the room. "About who you might be," he answered. "Where it is you came from and what it is you've been running from."

She didn't question him on whether he was right or not, she didn't seem to see a point to that. "How did he figure it out?" was what she asked him instead.

Angelus pinched his nose. He didn't seem to want to be having this conversation at all. He turned back to her, taking cautious steps until he reached her. One hand came up, dancing up her side until it reached the general area of where she knew her own kingdom's mark was placed on her body. "Giles recognized the symbol after catching a glance," Angelus told her. "He started putting things together after that... then came to me with it."

She remained silent for a few very tense moments, her mind racing a mile a minute. This had not been part of her plan. Hell, most that had happened since her feet touched ground over here had been part of her plan. She'd known there was always the chance she'd be found out here... but not once had this particular scenario played across her mind before. Raising her chin up, "What are you going to do?" she asked the king. Her eyes were shooting daggers she was sure, her body was tense, like it was prepared to fight its way out of here if need be.

Angelus' hand dropped away from her once more and he took a step back. His own eyes seemed to harden. As did his tone. "I am not going to 'do' anything, Elizabeth."

Her jaw clenched and her eyes flickered around the room, her mind planning an escape.

The king let out a noise similar to a growl which made her jump, her hands making fists at her side. "Don't," he commanded.

"What happened to I can leave whenever I please?" she asked.

She saw one of his own hands fisting at his side. "What is it you think I am going to do here, Elizabeth?" he asked her, his voice stern, hard. "I have no contact with anyone outside of this kingdom for three more years. I have no idea how to get anyone in or out of these walls. Hell, I am still mostly lost on how you even got here. And even if I did.." he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "You are free to stay here," he said, his voice softening. "You can stay in my land, hell, even in the damn mansion if you want. Yes, you are free to leave if you want as well. You can go back over the wall if you know how, go back to where you came from or go anywhere else your heart desires. You can go out those doors and go run through the woods like you intended. You could go get your own place and start a whole new life here. I'm not going to do anything to you, Elizabeth. And I sure as fucking hell am not going to be the one casting you out. I'm not going to be inviting anyone into my land to come after you. I am not going to be the one tossing you out there to be slaughtered by Hank Summers. Lets get that real clear."

With his last statement, Buffy saw his eyes flash a yellow-gold and he looked away quickly. "Why not?" she asked him, her voice hard, and the words coming out of her like she was on autopilot.

She watched his head tilt back and his eyes squeeze shut. His head turned and he looked like he was going to say something but then just threw his hands in the air and turned back away from her. He walked over and grabbed his empty glass then went for the door on the other side of the room.

She'd remained in the same spot for several minutes before letting out a shaky breath she'd been holding. Her fingers clenched and unclenched at her sides. Her mind was still racing and her emotions were just all over the place. She didn't know what to do. The idea of fleeing was comforting... that was all she'd known for so long. It was something she knew she was quite good at, too. But for the first time, the idea also seemed haunting, a sense of dread with it.

Buffy knew it was true about him being unable to alert anyone that she'd been found. Also after everything she knew about the king of The Dark Realm, she did truly believe him, that he wouldn't allow be serving her up on a silver platter to Hank or throw her out against her will... but there were so many other things that staying here could lead to.

But her other options were a short list as well.

She began pacing, weighing her options. She could stay, give it a try here. She could leave the mansion but return the woods. She could use the fairy dust to make a way back over the walls. She could try to run somewhere else. She could spend the rest of her life running. Or, at the very least, the rest of Hank's. Whichever came first.

Before she knew what she was doing, Buffy was racing through the halls of the mansion and returning to her room. She began gathering up her things in a rush then began making her way out of the mansion. She tried remembering everything she could about what was waiting outside and how she'd get out of this area without drawing the attention of those waiting at the gates.

She stepped out on a balcony and began making quick work of lowering herself down to the ground. She took a single step before it was like a wave hit her and stopped. A feeling she couldn't understand overtook her. She saw as much as felt the change to the large home behind her. The lights in the house dimmed upon her leaving, though not as bad as they were when she first arrived, but it was like the air around it darkened somehow as well.

Angelus suddenly popped in her mind as it was like she couldn't breathe. She didn't want to leave she realized, and the idea scared her to her very core.

She looked away from the house, the street before her, and just off into the distance. Yes, running away was what she knew and it even held some twisted version of 'safe' to her but in this moment it truly hit her of how tired she was of running away. Falling to the ground, tears formed in her eyes and soon began falling as the past decade of her life crashed through her. Not just from losing her family, her friends, her home... but all the years of running, going from one place to another, always scared, never having a place to feel safe. She thought of her own loneliness, craving everything she lost and believed in all her heart she'd never have again. Images of almost getting caught, of injuries she'd suffered over the years, sleepless nights... she thought of always being on the outside of everything, of staring from a distance at people, watching them live their lives, go home, to work, having conversations, going on dates, playing with their children.

Buffy thought of her short time here... and what she had not only gained so far, but what else could be waiting. That she may have a secure place to stay, to be, no more running. That she'd had real meals, a full stomach... that she could have that anytime she desired. She'd gotten to shower and bath, sleep in a real bed. She'd heard music, read books, had simple pleasures available all around her. She'd had regularly conversations... had gotten to know people.

Buffy knew this could all end very badly for her. Endless possibilities of that. But then again wasn't that the case for anyone, anywhere all the same? At least she had a shot here, her best one. Isn't that why she came here? Isn't that why she was led here by others, given help along the way?