Disclaimer: Okay so don't own it, if I did I wouldn't be in so much debt.

Summary: a figure from Angel's past arrives and brings with her a new start and some old friends.

A/N: firstly just so you know this is totally B/A, there will be mentions of B/S but only so that it can be put in the past where it firmly belongs. C/A will also be mentioned but again only to put it in the past. Riley bashing may occur but it will be nice and not completely one sided.

Would also love, love, love reviews!!! Please people first fic here and I'm desperately in need of feedback be it good or bad. If anyone has any suggestions I'll totally be willing to take them onboard especially as I'm terrified of writing myself into a corner! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!!

Chapter 1

"I was ten when they started, I guess that's pretty normal for all kids but it still didn't make me feel any better about it. So I had nightmares, well to be completely accurate I had one nightmare over and over again and it terrified me. The funny thing about it though is that I have absolutely no memory as to what it was about. I know that I was scared and I think something was chasing me, but I only know that because its what all my worst dreams are about. The reason for its huge impact on me was never the actual dream itself but the aftermath.

I would always wake up shaking; trembling from the effort of having all my muscles tensed up in order to help fight off whatever monster was attacking me. I would first experience a wave of relief at the fact that I was awake and the threat was gone but it would be followed by the irrational thought that maybe the monster was real or had followed me into reality and was waiting for me to open my eyes before it pounced. I know, how stupid, but when your ten years old and terrified rational though doesn't always figure.

This isn't about the terror I was feeling, or the wild ramblings of my immature mind, this is about comfort and safety and the occasions in which I have felt more secure and loved than at any other time in my life.

The third consecutive night I had that dream I was awoken by a sound, something just loud enough to pull me from my horror world. I lay there as always after a nightmare, with my knees pulled up to my chest, the covers up tight against face and my eyes screwed shut. I could feel a presence in the room and for a fleeting moment I was sure that my monster had finally followed me home. The moment passed however and it was quickly followed by the intense knowledge that my hero was there and that it would be okay. I heard him come closer to me and before I knew it there were two arms wrapping themselves around me, whispering reassuring thoughts and rocking me till I relax.

I should have known that he would save me, he always had. My brother was and is my hero, my champion. I know how others see him, a drunk, a lout and a womaniser but they don't know. They don't know what goes on at home, the way our father shouts and hits whenever anything is not to his liking, which to be quite frank is everything. They don't know that my brother does all those things in order to escape the torture that is home. They don't know that he does it to protect me, to make sure the anger and the hate is focused on him and not me. They don't know that each and everyday he rescues me from my father.
Most nights Liam escapes, he goes to the pub and drinks the night away with his idiot friends and those women that work there. It's easier than staying at home and having to listen to the arguing and the constant judging. The thing is though, he never leaves till I'm in bed, till I'm tucked up and hidden away from the constant criticism, and he always checks when he comes home to see if I'm still asleep.
Its always been that way I suppose, he was fifteen when I was born and an only child, you would expect him to hate me but that was never the case, I was always his little Kathy his little sister who he would defend till the bitter end. Most people wouldn't even know that we were related just by looking at us. We're completely different, I have light brown hair and blue eyes and (Liam says anyway) I have a smile that spreads from ear to ear and is always on my face. Liam however is completely different, he is one of the tallest in the town and has dark brown hair, but the most unusual thing about him is his eyes, they are so dark its hard to tell where the brown stops and the black of his irises begin. He has the best face, it can be so open and friendly or completely intimidating when he wants to be alone. For me though it's never angry or annoyed, it always has a look of total love and devotion.
Like I said, this was about the aftermath of my dreams. It's about how every time from that night onward, I would wake from my terror to find his big arms around me. How I would be rocked and whispered to till I stopped crying and how he would hold me like that for hours. Always, once I had stopped crying and shaking he would start to tell me tales, old Irish legends. In the depths of the night I would hear of the amazing deeds and heroics of Fionn MacCumhail and the Fianna and of Cuchulainn. I would be told of the battles they fought and the people they saved and the magic of the druids and I would wish I could live in that world where everything so simply laid out , it was black and white and it was good versus evil and I would have my brother for my champion.
To this day I carry those memories with me, I use them as my sword and shield and they protect me from monsters and demons. Although I no longer have my brother with me each day I like to believe that this is how he lives on, helping the helpless."

She paused and closed the book; a round of applause echoed throughout the room and many an eye was being dried. She looked up and smiled, as always enjoying the feeling when her writing was met with enthusiasm. Her publicist nodded to her letting her know that they were wrapping up and she could leave soon.
An hour later she was finally putting on her coat when one of the assistants from the venue approached her.

"Excuse me Ms. McCarthy, but there's a man here who wants to talk to you. I wouldn't normally bother you with this but he does seem to know you, he said to say his name is Whistler and that it's time. Does that make any sense to you?" the assistant asked.

She paused and took a deep breath. "It makes perfect sense."