Disclaimer: I own nothing, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

Interlude Six - One Year Ago

The alley was dark and grungy, only lit by the ambient glow from the bustling street beyond. A homeless man dug through the dumpster near the back, his upper body entirely in the container as he searched for anything interesting. He straightened enough to peer over his shoulder as a metallic rattle sounded behind him. The manhole cover nearby gave a slight lurch, giving another sharp clang before it popped a good five feet in the air and landed with a loud clatter next to the hole.

A dusty, dirt streaked hand appeared on the edge soon followed by another, pulling up an equally grimy blond girl. She stood next to the hole and ran an ineffective hand over her ruined clothing, trying to get some of the ick off.

"New York sewers are nothing like Sunnydale sewers," she said to herself with a shiver of revulsion. "Less monsters but more blergh."

The homeless man tossed a can he'd found into his pile next to him, still watching her warily. Her green eyes shot up to him and she gave a nervous laugh.

"This isn't-"

"That's mine," the man said, pointing at the dumpster and the pile of things next to it.

"Uhh, okay..."

He nodded and went back to his treasure hunt, assured that she wouldn't be trying to take what was his.

"Of course, because it's perfectly normal to see dirty people climbing out of the sewer and talking to themselves around here…," Buffy mumbled, watching the homeless man for a moment before exiting the alley. Even there, in the rushing mill of people, only a few bothered to give her appearance and smell a disgusted look. Ducking her head, she made her way quickly to her motel, looking forward to a shower. She didn't even care if there wasn't any hot water (again).

She'd been in New York for almost a month now and had thought she'd been getting a handle on how things worked here - where the vamps hung out the most, the best demon hidey-holes, the lowdown on the under-underbelly of the city. Until tonight anyway. The demon population in the city had skyrocketed overnight and Buffy had no idea why.

Not for the first time she wished things were like they used to be - wished she could just call up Giles and tell him about this, hear him get all excited in that British way of his over some new weirdness, get Willow and Xander in on some research. But the days of the Scooby Gang were gone. She wondered if they'd ever really gotten back what they'd had before she'd died. Things just never seemed the same after that, but maybe that was just her.

Then there was Dawn… God, she still missed her little sister.

"We're not even really sisters."

She cringed, remembering those harsh words. She knew Dawn had been angry at the time and she shouldn't hold it against her, but those words had hurt to deeply to just be forgiven and forgotten.

Dawn wanted to skip college and stay there and train to be a Watcher. Buffy, in a serious foot-in-mouth moment, had blurted out the phrase "But you don't belong here!" meaning that Dawn didn't have to live like this. She didn't have a destiny being shoved down her throat, she could go out and live a normal life, experience things like college and nonevil boys now that they were off the Hellmouth. But she didn't get a chance to explain any of that. Dawns face went white as soon as the words left Buffy's mouth and yelled that she didn't belong anywhere, she was a freak and it was all Buffy's fault, that this was the only place she did belong, even if all she wanted was to get out from under Buffy's shadow and it would be next to impossible there, she didn't have a choice, because where else would a freak like her go? She yelled that Buffy made her life the disaster it was up until now and she should just stay out of it, it was none of her business. They weren't even really sisters, anyway.

Buffy had known for a long time that Dawn felt like… less. How hard it was on her to be the Slayer's kid sister. But she'd figured she'd grow out of it, teenage angst and all that. Apparently she'd been wrong. What had started out as childish jealousy had morphed into a strong resentment at some point.

When she'd finished, Dawn had looked slightly shocked at the things she'd shouted, but she hadn't looked guilty and she hadn't apologized. The next day the pain was still sharp from their argument, so when the Scoobys laid out their plan that treated the new Slayers more like dangerous weapons that needed to be controlled and aimed instead of people, Buffy's already raw emotions had taken another harsh blow.

And that was it. She'd had enough. She was just tired - too tired to add fighting against the people that were supposed to have her back to the already hefty weight of fighting against evil. She didn't need a break, she wasn't running away - she was just done.

After stealing a good chunk of the Council's money and grabbing her Scythe (yes, she did think of it as hers - she was the original in what was now a multitude, she was the one that knew something was there when no one else would back her, she was the one that went in alone and got it - plus it was shiny and she liked it - it was hers, dammit), she took off.

Deciding she didn't want to stay in Scotland, where the new Slayer base had been situated, she'd headed into England for a while. Not wanting to be found, she'd visited a magic store she'd heard Giles mention a few times when ordering things for The Magic Box - hoping to find something powerful enough to keep her off even Willow's radar should they decide to look for her. There she'd run into Ethan Rayne of all people, freshly escaped from government custody. When he spotted the things she was looking at, he'd pieced together what had happened in an eerie display of perception and seemed to be absolutely giddy over the fact she'd parted ways from his old pal Ripper. So, in exchange for her not turning him in and not beating him unconscious on sheer principal, he helped her with a sweet shielding spell that kept her hidden from any and all magical means, no matter how powerful they were. And as a bonus, he'd even directed her to his source for fake ID's and passports. She walked away half appreciative to him and half wondering if the spell would turn her into some tentacle-y demon sometime in the future. She was pretty sure her threats were enough to keep him in line, but with Ethan, you never really knew.

After poking around England for a few weeks, sightseeing during the day and slaying by night, she got bored and hopped a flight to France. From there she traveled all over Europe and even into part of Asia for a few months. It wasn't until late fall that she'd decided to return to the States. She'd landed at JFK and just decided to stay for a while. She'd liked that there was plenty of slaying to do in the city and the ease in which she could keep her anonymity.

The sight of the rundown motel was a welcome one and she had her key out and was in her room with barely a paused step. Flicking the switch next to the door, yellow light filled the space. It was old and falling apart, the carpet threadbare, the wallpaper peeling in the corners, cracks and water stains on the ceiling, but it was fairly clean and it was convenient and, best of all, it was cheap. Her stolen funds had taken a hit with all the flying she'd done recently, so she'd have to be more careful with what she had left if she wanted to make it last. The thought of settling down somewhere and getting a job might have appealed to her before, but she'd recently lost her love for attachments.

Thinking of attachments and random cheap motels made her think of Dean. She'd thought about calling him a few times, her phone was long gone but she'd dialed his number enough to have it permanently engraved into her brain. But she was afraid her newly gained apathy and independence would go out the window when she saw him. And she knew he'd want to see her after he heard what had happened and that she was alone - he'd want to see that she was okay with his own two eyes. Her heart was still bruised and she was afraid Needy Buffy would make an appearance as soon as she saw him. She didn't want to risk that. Not that she thought Dean would ever do anything to hurt her, but with her long buried feelings for him, it was better to wait until she was more used to being alone.

It was better like this, being alone. The only person she could really count on was herself, anyway. At least that's what she kept telling herself when she was hit by a particularly sharp pang of loneliness.

Stepping further into the room, she threw her key down on the single rickety table and sat in the wobbly wooden chair beside it to pull her boots off. Other than the table and chair, the only other things in the room were the single lamp, a twin sized bed, her suitcase and the Scythe, leaning against the far wall under a towel. She didn't like leaving it there, but it wasn't like she could just go strutting around the city with it in broad daylight, keeping it hidden when she patrolled at night was hard enough.

The chair creaked as she leaned back in it, closing her eyes. She needed to shower and change before heading back out. Normally, she'd take a nap, maybe do some laundry first. But with the sudden rise in the Evil Threat Meter, she needed to get back out there as soon as she could. With a groan and a pout, she pulled herself up and headed into the bathroom.

An hour later, she'd already staked three vamps and beheaded some kind of lizard demon when a scuffle in the alley to her right drew her attention. She stalked toward the commotion, pulling the Scythe from under her long coat that kept it at least somewhat hidden from all the people still out on the streets.

As she drew nearer to noise and further into the alley, she distinctly heard a "No, wait! Please!" followed by a wet kind of growl. That would be her cue, kinda like the Slayer Bat Signal. Breaking into a run, she spotted two figures - one on the ground with a defensive hand raised and the other advancing in a menacing crouch.

"Hey, how about you play with me instead? I promise I'm more fun," she purred, channeling Faith for the hell of it.

The thing whirled on her faster than she expected and she got a glimpse of slimy red skin and big horns before a sharp-tipped claw was coming at her face. Dropping low, she felt her hair shift where its nails sliced the air less than an inch from her head. Swinging the Scythe up she took its arm off with one clean blow, then spun around and buried it in the things chest. It gave a weak gurgle before collapsing.

"Buffy! You've got great timing, girl."

Turning in surprise at being addressed by name, Buffy was shocked to see the "person" she'd rescued was actually Clem.

"Wow, didn't expect to see you here," she said, giving what was these days a rare smile and offering him a hand up.

"Glad to see you made it," Clem said, smiling back with sharp teeth and brushing himself off. "When I saw the crater on the news, I wondered…"

The smile melting off her face, she shook her head, "Spike and Anya… they didn't…"

"Oh," he said, looking down and shuffling his feet. "Sorry to hear that."

Buffy nodded, that last image of Spike flashing behind her eyes.

"So, New York, huh?" Buffy asked. "Didn't peg you for the big city kinda demon."

Seemingly as glad to be getting off the topic of Spike and Anya as Buffy was, Clem looked up and shook his head, skin wobbling in a hypnotizing display. "Oh, I'm not. I found a real nice place up in Massachusetts. Lots of other demons like me that aren't really into the death and destruction thing."

"That sounds… nice," Buffy said with a small smile, picturing a bunch of demons sitting around watching Passions, playing kitten poker and dominos. Like a retirement home for evil. "So, in New York for a little sightseeing?"

Clem's already pale features bleached further and he shook his head, his eyes suddenly darting about warily. "No… Something… something bad was coming. We had to get out of there."

Buffy cocked her head, "Something bad, like what? And what do you mean, 'we'? All your friends took off with you?"

"I think just about every demon in the state took off," Clem said, still looking anxious. "When the signs started showing up a few days ago, everyone just scattered. New York's a good place for demons to hide on short notice, so I think most of us ended up here. I got turned around, though. Stumbled into a Draxel demon's territory." Glancing back at the demon on the ground he gave a little shudder. "Thanks for the help, by the way."

Well, that answered her question on the sudden increase in the demon population, but he still hadn't answered her question on what exactly chased them off.

"What kinda signs? And signs of what?"

He looked around warily. "Signs… electrical storms, crazy weather, dead cows… Someone big from downstairs is about to show up there."

"Downstairs? You mean Hell?" Clem nodded again, wringing his hands now - a fascinating sight on someone with that much loose skin. Buffy peeled her eyes away and continued. "So some big wig from Hell is about to make an appearance in Massachusetts? What for?"

Clem looked at her as if she were crazy. "How would I know? We're not talking some left over, bred down old one, like most of us demons. This is someone strong enough to come and go from Hell as it pleases, that means it was granted permission to come here."

Buffy hated talking about Hell, it had more layers than an onion and made her head spin. "Permission from who?" She asked, her patience running out.

Clem's eyes widened, and he looked around before leaning in and whispering, "From Lucifer of course."

Buffy blinked at him, "There's really a Lucifer? Like the ex-angel kinda Lucifer?" and Clem blinked back with a "Yeah. Duh." look on his face.

"Hmm, who'da thunk. I knew there were all kinds of Hells, but… there's actually one with the Satan?" Buffy asked again, unable to wrap her mind around it.

Clem shrugged, "Sure, there are different Hells, different dimensions, even different levels in each one. But that Hell is the main one, all the others are connected through it. They only have access to this world because Lucifer allows it. He's chained somewhere down deep and pretty much gives the other Hell dimensions free reign. Living vicariously, I guess."

"How could I have never heard about this," she wondered out loud, pouting slightly. "I'm the freakin' Slayer, this should be need-to-know info."

"Probably because no one really talks about it. Lucifer's almost like a myth to most demons. Plus, not much comes out of that Hell, so not really much for a Slayer to slay. It's pretty much all about taking in human souls."

Buffy shuddered at the offhanded way Clem talked about people going to Hell, but shook off her unease and continued. "Okay, so one of Luci's lackeys is planning a day trip to Mass. Sound's like something I should check out… Where were most of the signs showing up? What part of the state?"

It took a while, but she finally got the information out of Clem that she needed. He seemed really sure that this was something Buffy didn't want to step in. But she'd fought the self-proclaimed First Evil. What could compete with that? Curious, but not really worried, she spent the rest of the night cutting down the inflated demon population before heading back to her motel at first light.

After packing up and checking out, she headed for the bus station. Greenfield was the best guess Clem could give for the center of the signs, so that's where Buffy went. The trip to wasn't that long, only about four hours, and she spent most of it sleeping. They arrived around midday and Buffy found a cheap hotel just down the street from the station. After dropping her things off, she decided she'd spend the rest of the day scouting the area, keeping her eyes peeled for weirdness and her Spidey Senses on high alert.

The town was quiet and pretty, the last of the fall leaves clinging to abundant trees and fresh clean air that felt amazing after spending so much time in the city (and in the sewers). It wasn't very big and it felt tiny after the weeks in New York. After finding her way around there, this was cake. She'd been all over by the time dinner rolled around, and had also drawn a lot of curious looks and tourist advice from the overly friendly residents. She'd gotten used to being part of the background, unnoticed and unbothered. But part of her admitted that it felt nice to smile (even if it was fake most of the time) and talk to the people again. One good thing that came of it was that she heard all about the weird weather and electrical storms that had been happening. None of them mentioned the cattle mutilations going on just outside of town though, too ugly for everyday conversation she guessed. But a quick trip to the local library and a peek through the last newspaper told her all she needed to know.

The sky was darkening an ominous gray when she arrived at the diner down from her motel to grab a bite for dinner. The patrons inside tossed her a curious glance but were mostly too busy eyeing the sky outside the large front windows to pay her much attention. The lightning started when she had almost finished her cheeseburger. Huge purplish streaks arcing across the sky, illuminating the thick rolling clouds. Deciding that it was probably time to go, Buffy put down the rest of her burger and asked for the bill. Her waitress, an elderly lady named Phyllis, fretted over Buffy getting back to her hotel safely and insisted that one of the cooks could driver her if she waited a few minutes.

The concern surprised and touched her, it had been a while since anyone had cared about what she was doing. The lump in her throat told her it was something she'd missed. Thanking Phyllis and assuring her she'd be fine, her hotel was just down the street, Buffy stepped out into the night. Her Spidey Senses immediately went nuts and she had to stop herself from dropping into a defensive crouch right there on the sidewalk. There was no source for it, the evil that she felt seemed to be infused in the very air, wrapping around her with each harsh gust of wind and exploding with fury at every strike of lightning.

For the first time, she wondered what exactly it was that she was getting into.

Fifteen minutes later, she was sneaking out the back of the hotel, Scythe in hand. She wasn't really sure where she was going, but her instincts screamed out that something was happening tonight, that she needed to be out there. The wind and lightning kept up its furious assault as she wandered from street to street, keeping to the shadows as she searched for anything out of the ordinary.

A flicker of the streetlights was the only warning she got before a burst of fire roared out of the windows on the upper floor of the house right next to her. She spun, eyes wide at the unexpected sight. Demons, vampires, pretty much anything that goes bump in the night, she'd been ready for. Fire? Not so much. She was a slayer, not a firefighter, this so wasn't her gig. But when she heard yelling from inside, she ran for the door anyway.

Kicking it open, she took a split second to get oriented and saw the stairs on her left, she took them two at a time and hit the upstairs hallway at a run. There, on the floor at the end, was a man in pajamas and a robe, his head was bleeding and he was trying to push himself up using the wall behind him.

"Karen!" He yelled, looking through the doorway in front of him with wide eyes.

Buffy was next to him in a heartbeat. The fire filled the frame, blocking the view inside the room.

"Who's in there?" Buffy asked, having to yell to be heard over the roar of the flames.

"My wife and baby," the man said, his face pale as he struggled to get to his feet again. It was then she noticed the cracked drywall and broken picture behind him, as if he'd been bodily thrown from the room. Looking suspiciously back at the flaming doorway, she realized she could occasionally see into the room beyond it as the fire shifted. All she could make out was a figure on the other side and that the fire didn't seem to have filled the room. Yet anyway, she needed to work fast.

"Stay here, I'll get them," she told him before taking a running leap through the flames.

Expecting smoke, fire, a woman and a baby on the other side, Buffy froze at the unexpected scene in front of her. A man in a long black coat was standing, back to her, over a crib, she could hear the baby crying now that she was in the room.

"Wow, you just take cradle robbing to a whole new level of creepy, don't you?" She blurted out. Whenever in doubt, quip.

Turning slowly, everything halted when yellow eyes met her own. Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes shot to the ceiling. Fire rolled above her, thick and bright. And there, in the center, was a woman. Karen, her mind provided numbly, remembering the man's shouts. Face frozen in a look of pain and horror, she blistered and charred above them.

"It pinned her to the ceiling of Sammy's nursery. Cut her open and set her on fire, like she was nothing... All we know is it was a demon. A demon with yellow eyes."

Dean's words echoed loudly in her mind and her eyes shot back to the "man" in front of her.

"You…" She breathed. There it was, the demon that had killed Dean's mother, set his father on the path of revenge and had changed his family from happy and normal to what it was now. This was the demon responsible for all his pain. Her hand tightened around the Scythe in fury.

It cocked its head and smirked, looking half irritated and half amused. It opened its mouth to speak, but she never gave it the chance. She lunged, Scythe humming as it cut through the air. The demon threw its hand out and a force slammed into her, halting her progress and trying to push her backwards. The Scythe, though still now, still hummed as she pressed back against it. The demons yellow eyes widened as she managed to press forward a step, teeth clenched and eyes narrowed. With a final burst of effort she was free from the invisible restraint and was diving at it again. It was already on the move though, stopping by the window and opening its mouth, a foul, thick smoke burst from its mouth and into the open air.

"Oh no you don't," Buffy growled, swinging the Scythe in a last ditch attempt to slice and dice it. She missed by mere millimeters but it seemed it was too close to comfort for the demon, who's smoky essence gave an unearthly shriek as the part where the Scythe had passed closely seemed to turn to ash and crumble away. But it barely slowed it down and it was already disappearing into the night sky. She perched on the window, ready to jump out into the night after it, but the shill cry of the baby behind her stopped her in her tracks.

Turning back to the burning room, she could see that the man who'd been possessed was already dead, blank eyes staring up at the ceiling where an equally dead Karen was still pinned in the blaze. Darting back to the crib, she bundled the baby up in all its blankets and tucked it close to her body before jumping back through the flaming doorway into the hallway. The dazed father immediately took the child from her, holding it close and kissing the top of its head.

"Karen," he said, wide eyes shooting up to Buffy's. "What about Karen?"

Buffy shook her head at him and his face collapsed in grief. He would have fallen to his knees right there in the smoke filled hall had Buffy not grabbed onto him and half led, half dragged him out of the burning home.

The air outside was blessedly cool and clean, a soft breeze taking the place of the harsh gusts of earlier. The clouds had thinned and the lightning had stopped, sirens wailed in the distance. For Greenfield, the danger had passed.

But Buffy wasn't letting things go so easily, her eyes looking toward where she'd last seen the demonic smoke heading. Leaving the grieving husband on the lawn with his motherless child, she hurried back to her hotel and packed her things.

Stepping back out into the night, her smoke smelling clothes clinging to her and blond hair falling from its ponytail, she faced east. She could still feel it, the concentrated evil that the thing had given off. Her Scythe hummed at her side, like it sensed the same thing and was eager for another shot at it.

And another shot it would get. Because there was no way she was letting it get away so easily.