Jake could not explain what had just happened. He had always been told he had a short-temper. But he had never pulled a weapon on a human before. He knew he couldn't kill the man he had pinned against the wall. That's not what he was here for. He cursed himself silently. This was not the way things needed to go. It was going to be hard enough to convince these people to join the fray, now that burden would be doubled because he was only a moment away from killing the man that they all looked to for guidance. But this was not the Giles that Jake had known. The man he knew had never uttered a harsh wordconcerning Jake's father. But this was not the Giles he knew. Jake tried to regain his composure. He could hear the slight movement behind him. If he didn't do something quick, the entire trip would be worth nothing.

"Don't bother with the crossbow Slayer. I'm not gonna kill him. That ain't what I'm after."

The voice that had come out had been low, almost a growl. With one fluid motion, Jake removed the blade, twirled it once around his finger, then sheathed it. He spun away from the wall and back towards the others, one hand on the pistol holstered behind his back. He knew better than to show more signs of violence, but he was driving on pure instinct now. It was a trait that had kept him alive longer than most.

As it turned out, Buffy had barely even reached for the weapon on the table when Jake spun back around to face her. The revelation about his father had halted her in her tracks. Jake eyed her wearily, then shuffled a few steps to the side, pulling his hand from behind his back slowly then raising it front of him. Buffy immediately leapt Giles' side as soon as Jake was out of the way. He was alive, but a small trail of crimson ran from his neck, soaking into his shirt collar. The razor sharp blade had nicked him, but he would survive. Surprisingly, Giles was the first to speak.

"Fa-father?" Giles inquired roughly, hand trying to wipe the trail of blood from his neck. Jake let out a sigh. Everything was out in the open now.

"Father," was Jake's short response.

Giles slowly rose to his feet, leaning on Buffy's shoulder for support. He wasn't injured, but he felt like his hearthad shut down and then restarted all in an instant. He needed to breath, but for some reason, air seemed in short supply. Buffy slowly walked him back towards the table as Giles retook his seat. Buffy stood to his side unarmed. She looked to the table and saw the crossbow that was still sitting just a few feet away. There was no way she could reach it without the intruder reacting. She cursed herself for the oversight. Now they were at his mercy.

"Okay. So you're a time-traveler who was sent back in time to enlist our help in stopping an all-powerful god. You're also Wesley Wyndam-Pryce's son. So, the question I've got is how and more importantly, with whom?"

Jake turned to the figure at the opposite end of the table. Xander Harris was always known for his quick wit, even in the future. Somehow, Jake didn't sense any sarcasm dripping from that last statement. It was a pity too. The two men had shared quite a few laughs in the years ahead.

"Well, the how is pretty common. Same way you and everbody else is born. With whom is a different matter. My name is Jacob Wyndam-Pryce. I was born on June 2nd, 2006 in Odessa, Texas to Mr. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and... Faith LaHayne."

Now he had everyone's undivided attention. He traced around the table with his eyes. Each person was gawking in contemplation in his direction. Jake himself was almost at a loss for words. They all seemed so stunned and all he had told them was his own birth. How would they react when he told them of their death?

"Wh-why did you not inform us of this upon your arrival?"

Jake looked Giles' way. The Watcher's stare had never left. Jake could only imagine the mix of surprise and absolute hatred that was clouding the man's mind.

"Well, for starters, I don't reckon the details of my birth certificate are that important in the grand scheme of things. Secondly, you know my... family, and you wouldn't have believed a Southern accent from a British lineage. Lastly... it's really none of your damned business who my parents are... I mean were. Besides, I didn't come here to tell you my life story. I came to tell all you... yours."

"Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say, 'you first'," Buffy responded. Jake simply stared ahead. This was a waste of time, and time was not something they had a great deal of. But if it would keep them here so he could tell them the rest of the story, well, it was just something that had to be done.

"Fine," he replied. "I've already told you who my parents were. They were never married, they saw know need of a ceremony when life itself was about to be snuffed out. They raised me to the age of seven in Odessa. They figured it was safer there for me. Pop never really recovered from the wounds he received the night Illyria turned. He still tried to fight, but he was always vulnerable. It was at seven that they sent me to live with a familyon a small farmjust south of San Antonio..."

July 2, 2013

Nine years following the alley

Pearsall, Texas

Wesley pulled the late nineties model Chevy onto I-35 and headed back north towards San Antonio. He was vehemently against grand theft auto, but as Faith had once told him, "you can't teach an ol' gal new tricks". Secretly, he was grateful she had 'acquired' the vehicle a few years back. The old station wagon that had provided their getaway across the country had broken down several times during their extended stay in west Texas. He had scolded her when she pulled into their small trailer house with the vehicle, but deep down he smiled. She never ceased to amaze him. Of course, he would never tell her that. He didn't need anything else held over his head. He gazed out at the passing mile markers. His whole chain of thought was avoiding the real issue. The issue that they had left behind on the small farm just west of Pearsall, Texas.

Faith was unusually quiet. Wesley continuously glanced her direction simply to make sure she was not asleep. She never was. Her head was always gazing out the passenger window, no doubt staring blankly into the rearview mirror.

"He'll be fine, luv," Wesley simply stated. "Roger and Trish Burkle are two of the finest people I've ever met, and I know for a fact that they are experts at raising children."

Wesley's mind wandered back to the handshake he shared with Roger... to the last hug he had cherished with his son. His heart broke just as Faith's had. Under other circumstances, he would never think to leave his own flesh and blood with a new family. But these were special circumstances. He refused to risk his son's life, and that's exactly what he would do if he was brought along. Where Wesley and Faith was going, nothing short of death awaited.

"I know he will Wes. That doesn't mean I have to like it. I mean... what if he forgets us? What if we don't make it back? What if... what if we can't stop it and we've left him there just to die..."

Wesley laid his calloused hand on Faith's shoulder. It was only thing he could do to calm her. Wesley had thought about everything Faith had just said, and he had thought about it everyday for the past seven years. But Wesley knew the farther from the front lines his son was, the safer he would be. And you didn't get much farther than Pearsall, Texas and they didn't come much more trustworthy than the Burkles.

"Did you put in one last call to Giles?" Wesley asked.

Faith nodded her head, but didn't speak. Wesley could feel the waves of contempt radiating from her. They had only contacted Giles twice since that day in the hospital so long ago. Once was to inform him of the birth of Jacob. The only positive from that conversation was that Giles didn't hang up as soon as he heard the voice on the other end of the line. The second was two days ago when they informed him of their decision to leave Jacob with 'friends' and head towards California and try and stop Illyria once and for all. They had asked one more time for help. Giles had hung up that time. The stubborn old Watcher was not willing to bring his charges to the war, even after the destruction the world was bearing witness to. However, they were not alone. The rift that had formed between the former potential, Kennedy, and Buffy gave Wesley and Faith a small glimmer of hope. Both Willow and Kennedy, along with their sizable Slayer army had thrown their hat into the ring. They wouldn't meet Wesley and Faith in California. Wesley did not want to risk anyone else's life. However, they would be the second front if Wesley failed. He prayed that he would not.

"Well then... shall we go save the world?" Wesley quipped as he pulled onto I-10 and began the trek towards what was once Los Angeles. It was not going to be easy. Illyria had pushed outward past the outskirts of Los Angeles. The military couldn't stop the rolling wave of demons that poured into the desert forever. Wesley just wanted one face to face with Illyria. It owed him that. One face to face... one shot. Right between the eyes.

Faith turned and flashed what could only be described as a shell of a smile. She placed her hand in his and squeezed, much the same way she had in that hospital so long ago. Wesley returned the smile and then turned back to the road.

"God help us," he whispered. "Protect him first, then... help us all."

Jake's story abruptly came to a halt. He had never told the story of his parents' fateful journey. Hell, he hadn't known the details of it until the Powers had provided him with them. The emotions swirling around were just too damn overbearing. He wiped a small tear from the corner of his eye and cleared his throat.

"That's the last anyone saw of my mother and father. Theyno doubt made it to Los Angeles, but Pop was weak and... and... well, I'm sure they went down fighting. From that day on, Roger and Trish Burkle raised me until I turned seventeen. I left the farm in Pearsall and joined the newly formed Army of the Interior. It was through the AOI that I would eventually meet all of you, though it was all separately. You were no longer a group... and that's what you'll have to be to win this war."

The group seated at the table simply stared ahead blankly. They had all known either Wesley or Faith at one point or another. To hear the tale of their life and subsequent death was just numbing. Giles looked terribly grief stricken. Of course, he had just discovered that his stubbornness had caused two people to lose their life and a son to be orphaned. It was all just too much.

"Jacob... I-I'm at a loss for-for words. I..."

"It's okay Mr. Giles. You had no way of knowing. It's me who should apologize. It's just... I've never told anyone and I lost control. I'm real sorry. But if you will join me, we can rewrite what can happen. We can finish the job that they couldn't."

Giles didn't respond. He wished to, but he just couldn't find the words. Jake's eyes traveled to Buffy. The blonde had taken a seat behind Giles, and while she looked emotionally moved by his story, the look in her eye was still one of uncertainty.

"If you're still not convinced... allow me to finish my story. Like I said, I've met every one of you in the future. You're all great warriors and tougher 'n an ol' boot. It was an honor to have fought beside most of ya.But I've also buried all of you, I can't do that again. The world can't do that again."