Disclaimer: Buffy, the Vampire Slayer and Angel are not mine, I'm just playing with them.

Chapter 19: Blood Remembers

Willow muttered a few words in Latin, and then cursed under her breath. Lindsey noticed her distress as he handed her the ingredient she's just asked for.

"Problems?" He asked her, his hair falling into his eyes.

"I hope not." Willow said, her voice betraying her emotions. "How long did you say they've been in here?" She asked him, taking the ingredient from him. He snagged hold of her wrist in the process. She met his gaze silently. Lindsey smiled, flashing his killer grin.

"Let go." Willow commanded, her tone light, but her meaning clear. Lindsey had the good grace to blush

"Sorry about that. It has a mind of its own." He apologized. She didn't reply, but crumbled up the root he'd handed her into a wooden bowl. She lit it with a match, said some more words in Latin, and waited. The fire slowly extinguished, and there was a whooshing sound. The candles surrounding Connor and Dawn on the floor flickered, but there was no movement from the two teens.

"About an hour and half now." Lindsay said when she was done.

"What?" Willow asked, distracted by the spell's failure.

"That's how long they've been in here." Lindsey answered.

"It's been too long." Willow replied, looking concerned.

"What do you mean?" He wanted to know. She seemed surprised by his concern for Connor and Dawn, and Lindsey wondered how much Buffy had told the red head.

"The spell should have only lasted about 45 minutes. Even if Dawn did get drawn in, it should still be over by now. I don't understand why they aren't in the final stages of the spell." Willow explained.

"You'll have to explain that in English, Miss. Rosenburg." Lindsey drawled. "I'm afraid I don't speak spell caster very well."

"Call me Willow." She told him.

"All right then, Willow. Could you explain that to me in laymen's terms?" Lindsey said, leaning closer to her. She blushed when he said her name, but scooted back a hair as he leaned toward her.

"Basically, there's a final stopping place at the end of the spell. It's a misty, white place. When you reach that point, your anchor is supposed to be waiting for you and that's when they pull you out, so to speak." Willow explained. "But they aren't there."

"Where else could they have gone?" Lindsey asked.

"That's what we have to find out." She answered, her expression grim.

*

Spike wasn't very hard to find. In fact, it was so easy, Buffy almost questioned her luck. Well that and it was extremely sunny outside. She ran her fingers through her hair. An apology was going to be hard enough. She wasn't sure she'd be able to do it in a public place. Granted, the dimly lit bar wasn't very crowded for early evening on a Saturday, but Buffy didn't want this to happen in front of anyone.

She walked towards Spike, and stopped at his table. He didn't lift his head in acknowledgment. She stood there, hoping he would look at her. After a few minutes of waiting, she finally said something.

"Spike." Buffy said his name.

"Go away." Spike replied, surprising Buffy with an answer. His speech slurred just a little bit, she noted, which meant he was drunk. Great.

"No." Buffy told him, sitting down. "I have something I have to say to you." She began. He held up a hand.

"Save me the pity breakup song and dance." Spike drained the last of his glass, and snagged the waitress that walked by. "I'll have another, and make it a double." He ordered.

"He won't be needing it." Buffy said to the waitress, who looked at her in understanding. Buffy knew exactly what she must think of her.

"What I don't need is you, here, making decisions for me." Spike nearly shouted at her. The waitress moved away, letting Buffy handle him.

"Spike, there's something I have to say, and I need you to hear it." Buffy nearly demanded.

"What could you possible have to say besides 'it's over'? I already know that much." Spike practically whispered. God, he needed another drink. She reached out and took his hand, locking their fingers together.

"I'm sorry." She said, looking him in the eye.

*

Dawn and Connor flashed in what Dawn recognized as the Magic Box. A dark, dimly lit Magic Box.

"Dawn, where are we?" Connor asked.

"I think we're in my memories now." Dawn said, knowing that this shouldn't be happening.

"What?" He said. She didn't answer, moving toward the counter. She gasped as she recalled what memory this was.

"Oh, no." She whispered. Connor moved up behind her as they heard a male voice start talking. Her legs nearly buckled. "No, please no." She whispered again. Not yet. He didn't need to know yet. He grabbed her as he legs gave out, holding her around the waist.

"Are you ok?" He wanted to know. She didn't answer him, but slid over the top of the counter and crouched down on the floor. He followed suit, and his eyes widened as he came face to face with a younger Dawn, and Spike, the vampire he'd tried to kill in the cemetery. He didn't say anything as he took in her facial expression, but filed the information away to ask her about later.

They watched as the scene played out. Dawn's younger self was sitting on the floor next to Spike, and they were reading from a book of some kind. Three candles were lit in front of them for light to read by.

"Wait, here's something." Younger Dawn said, pointing a finger as Spike took a drag on his cigarette. "Uh, Tarnast, 12th century. One of the founders of the monks of the order of Dagon. Their sole purpose appears to have been as protectors of the key." Dawn's younger self went on. Spike rose, and walked behind her, putting out his cigarette in one of the urns. He snorted.

"Brown robe types are always protecting something. It's the only way they can justify giving up girls." Spike told Younger Dawn. Connor watched as he headed for a large hammer shaped weapon. "Hey, troll hammer!" Spike exclaimed, picking it up and dropping it almost immediately. Spike played it off. "Didn't go with my stuff, anyway." He said, heading back towards Younger Dawn.

"What is this, Dawn?" Connor asked the girl sitting beside him. She still didn't answer. He grew concerned, as she looked like she was going into shock. He turned back to the scene at hand. It would give him a reason why she was acting like this, he was sure.

"The key is not directly described in any known literature, but all research indicates an energy matrix vibrating at a dimensional frequency beyond normal human perception. Only those outside reality can see the key's true nature. Outside reality...What's that mean?" Younger Dawn asked Spike, who was now standing above her.

Connor was confused. What key were they talking about? Whatever it was, it was some kind of energy. That was all he'd understood.

"Second sight blokes, mostly." Spike answered Younger Dawn. "...Or even just your run of the mill lunatics. What else does it say about the key?" He asked Dawn's younger self, sitting back down beside her. Connor stared at the younger girl. She looked like she was about to throw up. "Is it made out of gold? Maybe we can hock it, split the take." Spike joked. Younger Dawn didn't reply, but read some more from the book.

"The key is also susceptible to necromanced animal detection, particularly of canine or serpent construct." Connor noted how Younger Dawn seemed to go limp, as Spike took the book from her. He glanced at the Dawn beside him again. She was just staring at her former self. Connor wondered what could be so bad about this scene that would make her act like this. And what the hell was this key thing, anyway?

"The monks possessed the ability to transform energy, bend reality, blah, blah, blah." Spike continued reading. "Good Lord, Giles writes about how he talks, doesn't he?" Spike went on. "They started work, but the Council has suggested to us that they were interrupted, presumably by Glory. They obviously did manage to accomplish the taste..." Spike squinted at the book. "...The task. They had to be certain the Slayer would protect the key with her life. So they sent the key to her in human form. In the form of a sister." Spike said, looking at Younger Dawn. Connor felt his stomach drop, as he looked from Younger Dawn to the one perched next to him. The Dawn next to him had a hand over her mouth. The one next to Spike looked like someone had just killed her puppy. "I guess that's you, Nibblet." Spike told her.

Before Connor could ask Dawn exactly what was going on, they flashed out of the Magic Box.

*

Spike chuckled, his tone sarcastic.

"Oh, you're sorry." He said, sounding angry. "You're sorry. That's the best joke I've heard all year." Buffy winced.

"I am. He kissed me, but I shouldn't have kissed him back. I did, and I'm sorry." Buffy apologized. Spike was speechless. "Did you hear me, Spike?" She asked.

"Why?" Spike questioned her.

"Why what?" Buffy repeated, glad he was at least talking to her.

"Why did you kiss him back? Why didn't you push him away?" Spike was emotional.

"I don't know." Buffy answered, looking at her hands.

"Bull." Spike called her on her answer.

"Fine." Buffy said, her eyes flashing. "I was scared, ok?" She admitted. Spike looked at her, eyes wide. Buffy was admitting fear?

"Scared of what, Love? Me?" He asked her, his tone gentle now.

"No, never. I was scared of...of what loving you meant." Buffy told him. He sat back in his chair, and stared at the blonde across from him. He reached out and covered her hand with his.

"Do you love him?" Spike needed to know, but dreaded to know the answer to that question.

"Not like I love you. Not anymore." Buffy replied. His face relaxed into a smile, and he tugged on her hand until she rose and moved towards him. Spike settled her in his lap, and turned her face to him.

"Don't be afraid of us." Spike reassured her. "I'm not him. I'm not going anywhere." He told her. She smiled, and leaned down to kiss him.

*

When they flashed into the living room of her old house, Dawn knew what memory would be next. She looked at Connor, who she knew was desperate for answers. He was going to get them, all right. She took in the room's occupants, and her heart ached when she spotted Tara on the couch, speaking with Buffy and Willow. Connor followed her gaze, but didn't say anything. She finally spoke as she spotted her mother talking to Giles in the doorway of the living room.

"Mom." She whispered.

"That's your mother?" Connor asked. Dawn nodded mutely, tears in her eyes. He would have said more, but a startled cry got his attention.

"Oh my God!" Tara cried out. Everyone turned to look as Younger Dawn stood behind them, blood flowing freely from one hand. She held a knife in her other hand, and was staring blankly at them.

"Is this blood?" Dawn asked the room, her voice monotone and her expression still blank.

Buffy and Joyce raced over to Dawn, taking the knife away from her and examining the wound.

"Oh, baby." Joyce said.

"What did you do?" Buffy demanded. Dawn couldn't watch this. It was too hard, and she'd worked too long to keep these nightmarish memories at bay. Connor slipped a hand around her waist and held her, watching the scene intently.

"This is blood, isn't it? It can't be me. I'm not a key..." Dawn's voice was thick with emotion. "I'm not a thing."

"Oh, sweetie, no." Joyce reassured Younger Dawn. "What is this all about?" She asked.

"What am I? Am I real? Am I anything?" Younger Dawn questioned. Older Dawn gasped out a sob, and Connor pulled her tighter into his embrace. He knew exactly how she felt. They flashed out to the sound of her tears.

*

After the third failed try at waking up Connor and Dawn, Willow sighed. There was one more thing she could try, but it was risky.

"Get Angel for me, will you?" Willow asked Lindsey. He unsettled her. Lindsey seemed nice enough, but it was clear he was hitting on her, and well, she hadn't had that happen in awhile. He disappeared through the doorway. She stared down the unconscious teens. There was only on thing left to do, and she wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do. Buffy and Angel would have to decide what to do next. Willow hoped that it was soon. She had a feeling the teens didn't have much time.