Part 3: Welcome Back, Again
He stood there, frozen in place, staring at the woman he had loved so much, only to have her taken away from him in one fatal swoop. Well, apparently not so fatal considering she was standing there. No, that's not right. They buried her! Seven years ago! It couldn't be her!! But it was. He could feel it was her.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Xander shift in his chair, allowing Spike to break the gaze he held with Buffy. For a moment, he was afraid that if he did look away from her, then she would disappear and leave him there alone again. But confusion and the need for answers won out over that fear.
"What did you do?" he practically hissed at the other Scoobies in the room, though his voice sounded small to him.
"We didn't do anything," Xander said, gesturing to his fellow slayerettes. "But maybe a certain resident evil did."
"Me?!" Spike bit back at the insanity of the suggestion. "What? Did a beam fall on your head and finally squish that pea for a brain of yours?"
"Who are you calling a pea brain?!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Harris. I thought by directin' the statement at you and the reference to your job would have told you that the insult was meant for you," Spike said dryly.
"Alright, that's enough!!" Giles barked, causing everyone in the room to jump. The Watched shot a heated look between Spike and Xander, warning them silently to both keep their mouths shut or they would have him to deal with. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Giles then turned to the slayer and asked, "We do need to find out what is going on."
"I'm all for that," Buffy agreed. "I mean, hello. I'm the one who just woke up in the principal's office covered in blood. Kind of like to know what exactly happened."
The whole room became very silent at the revelation, besides Willow who began to a new round of tears. Buffy looked around the room, confused at the reaction to the simple statement. "What?"
"Um…" a timid voice answered. The blonde turned around towards the sound and saw Andrew, she thought that was his name, start to nervously shift on his feet like he was in high school talking with the 'cooler kids'. His eyes were darting across the room at the Scoobies, as if he were asking permission to tell her what he knew, before he finally said, "You, ah, kind of…were, um…" he began to reenact the bathroom scene from Psycho before folding his arms back to hold himself like he was cold. "Stabbed."
Stabbed? She had been stabbed? Buffy carefully considered this information for a moment. Stabbed. Now that she thought about it, she did remember something about a knife…no, a dagger. A dagger with a black handle. It was coming at Dawn and Dylan? No, she protected them. She saw it swinging at the younger Summers, and stepped in the way.
Buffy jerked in a breath when she remembered the knife being shoved into her.
"Buffy?" Giles said attentively as he placed his hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"
Spike stiffened briefly, as if he were going to come to her side, but held back at the last moment. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he still believed that this was all a dream, or a nightmare, and she would disappear at any moment. She always left faster if he touched her.
"Yeah," Buffy said lowly, reaching over and touching the stained shirt. "Just…remembering."
"Buffy?" a small voice squeaked, dragging the group's attention up to the young woman who stood next to Spike.
Dawn's face was white, and the vampire couldn't understand how the girl was holding herself up. A small sigh escaped from the Bit, before her eyes rolled into her head and she headed for the ground. Spike caught her on the way down, and the Scoobies had something else to worry about instead of the dead slayer who suddenly wasn't so dead anymore.
Spike laid her out across the floor, just as Giles and Buffy reached them, Harris and the others not far behind. "Dawn!" the slayer exclaimed, taking her face in her hands. "Dawn!"
Slowly, the young woman's eyes opened and looked up at her sister. With a shaky hand, Dawn reached up and touched the slayer's face. Buffy smiled at her, before leaning into her hand. The brown-haired girl's face light up at that, and she looked over at the vampire at her side. "She's real," she told him. "She's really here."
Spike lifted his gaze upward from Dawn and looked at Buffy, who meet his gaze. She still had on that weak smile, and he was half tempted to touch her like Dawn. Instead, he looked back down at Dawn, and said, "I know, Bit. I know."
**********
Sebastian stood at the large window, looking out into the dark night. There was something off, something was different. Somewhere out there, things had changed, but for better or worse he didn't know. It felt right, but wrong at the same time, like whatever it was was supposed to be here but not at the same time. This was just too confusing, especially for a kid.
The boy glanced over his shoulder towards the large chair in front of the fireplace. His grandfather had drifted off to sleep not long after their chess match had ended, but the child was no where near tired. He was more of a night owl, his aunt and uncle had always said so.
A frown crept across his face as he thought of them. They weren't really his aunt and uncle anymore than the old man in the chair really was his grandfather. He knew why they insisted that he call them that, though. Makes them seem like family ties; people protect, fight for, and listened to their families. If they became family to him, then he would do as they wished. Family was a strong tie to the world that one creates, and they wanted him to include them in his world for what he could do.
He wondered how strong her ties were to her family and friends. It was hard enough for his 'grandfather' to break his to his aunt and uncle; it'll be even harder to break hers. But he had seen the old man in action. If there was a person out there that could do it, it would be him, and it would be in the most brutal fashion.
Sebastian didn't know her, only knew of her, but he wished she didn't have to go through that. No one, no matter who or what they are, deserved that. But deserving or not, she better be ready, because it was coming for her; just like it came for him.
The boy turned back to the window and sighed. This was not something that should concern him so much. A girl he had never meet before in his life shouldn't concern him so much. But she did. For some reason, she did more then anyone he had ever known before. He just hoped she didn't hate him one day for the part he had to play in this.
**********
Spike stood in front of the punching bag, just staring at it for a long moment. He had to get out of there; there was just too much going on for him to deal with it all in a moment. He could so use a cigarette right about then, anything to calm his nerves. But he had given them all up all those years ago; his cigarettes, his booze, even kitty poker, all which he was now regretting ever listening to Buffy in the first place. Still, he did have his pet vice to turn to; good, old fashioned violence.
Rearing back, he hit the punching bag as hard as he could and knocked it off its hinges with a single punch. The black bag landed with a loud, unsatisfying thud that accompanied his low growl.
Damn whoever brought her back. She had died; she was supposed to get to rest now. But even her death couldn't stop them from using her, and it was all going to end up the same in the end. He was going to lose her again, something he didn't think he could take once more.
"Well, it's good to know if we're ever attacked by a legion of evil punching bags you can take care of them," a voice said dryly from the door.
Spike turned around and found Buffy watching him, her arms crossed and a weak smile on her face. She was taking this all rather well, but, with her swiss cheese memory, it was pretty understandable. From what he was able to gather, she didn't remember a lot about that day, and nothing from afterwards. Part of him was glad for that. He knew she had to have gone to heaven, and, coming back, would have been hell for her.
"What?"
She took a step into the training room that hadn't changed all that much since she left. "You said that to me yester…You said that to me the night I…um, you know," Buffy answered awkwardly.
The silence was tense that passed between them, neither one having any idea what to say to the other. He was still having trouble accepting that she was there, and she was still having trouble understanding what exactly was going on. She knew that seven years had gone by, that there were a lot of things that were different, but she still didn't look as if she quite believed it just yet. It was understandable. He wouldn't believe it if someone told him the same thing.
"So," he finally said, but finding nothing to go after it. Well, that wasn't true, there was a lot he could have put with it like 'I missed you' or 'Why are you here?' or 'I'm sorry.'
"Why?" she suddenly said, raising her eyebrow.
His head shot up at her voice, as he realized that he had said that last one aloud. Nervously he began to play with his hands and look for answers to her question. "For you havin' to come back and all. Must've been better where you were."
"Can't really say," she said with a shrug, walking over to stand beside him. "Considering that I don't remember anything."
She noted how tense he became as she approached, so she stopped a few feet short of him. Neither one of them liked this weird, surreal feeling that was swirling around them, but they didn't know how to stop it. Spike shifted nervously on his feet, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck, while Buffy glanced down towards the ground before looking around the room as if it would provide something for them to talk about that didn't feel awkward.
"Dawn's grown up nicely," she finally said, deciding that her baby sister would be a safe topic for the two of them. "She's…she's very pretty."
"That she is," he agreed. "Had a hell of a time when she was a senior keepin' those boys from sniffin' around the house. Course, I should've been keepin' an eye on Peaches Junior instead of the outsiders."
"Her and Connor?" Buffy smiled, thinking back to the scrawny teenager that Angel had brought.
"Yeah," he snorted in that I'm-pretending-that-I-don't-like-it-but-I'm-really-okay-with-it way. "Thought the girl had better taste than that. What is it about you Summers girls and the men in the poof's family?"
She smiled slightly as he realized exactly what he had just said. Technically, he was a part of that family too.
"Must be the hair," she smirked. "You know, Angel with the hair gel, you with the bleach, Connor with the street urchin, I've-never-been-inside-a-barbershop hair cut."
"Well, you can see some things have changed," he told her, a small smile on his lips. He had since given up the bleach again and now his hair had returned once more to the original color she had gotten used to all those years ago. "And I can guarantee your sister has taken the Poof Part Two to the barbershop. Angel, though…"
"Still spends enough money on hair gel to finance a small country?"
"You said it, not me," he grinned.
The two stood there for a moment, just letting the silence that had been so horrible only moments before become more and more comfortable.
After awhile, Buffy reached up to cover a large yawn. Now that she had actually stopped, she realized how tired she was. She felt like she could sleep for a week, and she was just imagining sleeping in her nice warm bed until late tomorrow. That is, if Giles didn't want her to show up at six a.m. to start researching on how she came back. Knowing Giles that would be exactly what he wanted.
"Tired, love?" he asked.
"Just a bit," she answered. "Could you take me home? I'd really like to get some sleep before the big research party."
Spike frowned for a moment, a sudden terror passing through him as he idly wondered if she went to sleep, would she disappear and he would find he truly was dreaming. Well, there was only way to be sure he guess. Slowly, he reached up and barely touched the side of her face, letting his thumb gently slide over her cheek. She smiled at him, leaning ever so slightly into the touch, before reaching up and taking his hand into hers.
Dawn was right. She was really here. He gave an emotional laugh/cough, before saying, "Yeah. Let's get the Niblet and head on back."
**********
Something soft nudged against her chin while purring loudly in her ear, waking the child. Dylan grunted slightly, not really wanting to wake from the deep slumber she had been enjoying, but the cat was currently doing everything that it could to get her up, short of digging its claws into her chest. If she didn't hurry, he just might do that in a moment.
When he meowed, the girl lazily opened her eyes and began to push herself up in bed. "Alright, Sid, I'm up. I'm up."
The cat jumped off the bed and landed with a loud thud on the ground. He trotted over to her slightly cracked bedroom door, then looked over his shoulder as if he wanted her to follow. Yawning, Dylan rubbed her eyes, pulled on her purple Volkswagon Bug house slippers, and headed after the cat; proving the idea that people do not own cats, cats own people.
Sid strode happily down the hallway and stairs as Dylan followed. He had originally been Dawn's pet, but, once she had left to 'live' in the dorms, he had unofficially become Dylan's. She took care of the black feline; fed him, played with him, and made sure that her Dad didn't let Clem use him as a breeding cat to pay off his debts. She knew her Dad didn't really like that cat, said he was always getting under foot; but Sid didn't like her Dad either, so she guessed it worked out.
Charging down the stairs, Dylan was surprised to find Mrs. Montello asleep on the couch with the television playing Good Morning America loudly. She had meet the older woman only a couple of times, usually when the sixty something lady was dropping off her grandson James for Dawn to watch for a few hours. The only reason Dylan could think of why she would be here was because of official Scooby business that required both her Dad and Aunt Dawn. Well, maybe she would at least be able to pry an adventure story out of them when they got back. And another plus, maybe she wouldn't have to go over to Giles' today after all.
Sid meowed loudly at her as she poured the dry cat food into his bowl, then went making her own breakfast of frosted flakes. Taking her bowl of cereal into the living room, she set it down on the coffee table, carefully lifted the remote of the sleeping woman's hand, and changed the channel to the Cartoon Network and was please to find "The Jetsons" was on. She knew she was grounded, but, if her Dad and Dawn had been gone all night on business, chances are they would be too distracted with that by the time they got back to notice what she was doing. The seven-year-old giggled at Mr. Spacely yet again firing George as she polished off the last of her cereal.
Outside, she heard a vehicle pull into the drive, and the child quickly went to work in making it look like she hadn't been watching TV. She changed it back to the boring news program it had been on earlier, flipped it up one channel and back so if her father hit the previous button it would go here instead of Cartoon Network, then darted for the kitchen with her cereal bowl just as the front door opened.
Dylan paused for a moment after she stepped into the kitchen and waited to be called back into the living room from being caught. When it didn't come, she shrugged her shoulders, dropped the bowl in the sink, and then pulled out a glass from the dishwasher for some water.
It seemed odd not to get caught-she always got caught-it was strangely unsatisfying. She thought the day she was finally able to get one over her Dad she would, she didn't know, be different somehow. Maybe it had to be bigger. Yeah, that's what was wrong. She had to get away with something bigger for it to feel different.
"What are you doing here?" a woman's voice asked from behind her, causing the child nearly to drop the glass.
Swirling around on her heels, Dylan turned to face a blonde woman. At first, Dylan considered screaming from a stranger being in the kitchen with her, but something was telling that she didn't need to be afraid of her. There was something familiar about her face, like she had seen it somewhere before.
The woman was considering her with the same curiosity. When she crossed her arms as she waited for answer, Dylan was able to recognize her from the pictures she had seen. But it couldn't be! She was dead!! The glass slipped from the girl's grip and shattered upon hitting the floor as the two held a locked gaze.
Another form appeared behind the woman, finally allowing Dylan to look away from the woman to it. Her father stood there, looking between the blonde woman before him and the little girl that stood in front of the sink.
"Dad?" she said, the simple word pleading for answers as to what was going on.
The woman's eyes grew as she looked from the little girl, back over her shoulder to the child's father, then back to the girl.
"Dylan?" Buffy asked in disbelief.
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