Jake slowly glanced around the room. All eyes were upon him, waiting to hear the story he had traveled twenty-five years back in time to tell. This was it. Jake really wished that he had been a car salesman in his past life... or well, future life.

"Alexander Harris was the first of you I was given the privilege to meet. Shortly after the call to fight, you joined up with the AOI. They didn't seem to care about your, ahem, disability. They were lookin' for anybody ornery enough to fight."

Xander smiled a bit at that comment. For so long he had simply been 'the guy' of the group. He didn't have any special powers. Couldn't conjure up powerful magicks. Didn't have the Watcher brain. Sure he had always helped. He had even saved the world once, all by himself. But it was hard being common when in the company of the uncommon. Plus, he didn't mind being G.I. Joe either.

"You were in command of a small force. Basically, anyone that had prior dealing with the supernatural got command. You knew my father. We got along pretty good you and me. Fought a lot of battles. Shared a lot of laughs. I met both Kennedy and Willow through you. They picked up the fighting after... after my parents' deaths. None of you three ever spoke of the rift with Buffy. I always assumed that she was simply tired of the fight."

The atmosphere was tense. Buffy and Giles both continued to stare at the floor. No doubt they could feel the eyes staring at them. Buffy had never been one to turn her back on the greater good. Truth was, Jake was right. She had begun to tire of fighting, even now. She simply wanted to spend time with Dawn and to enjoy herself.

"Willow was strong. But Kennedy was always her link. Kennedy fell somewhere in Colorado. Illyria's forces had simply overwhelmed her. They decimated everything. Both the Slayer force and our own. When Willow got the news... you... you simply shut down."

Willow clenched Kennedy's hand tighter. The mere thought of losing her chilled her spine. The idea of veiny Willow unleashed on the world caused a trace of bile to seep up the back of her throat.

"Xander and I... w-we found you. You were so peaceful... I-I... I always thought that it was too much for you to bear. We buried you outside of Cleveland. We got to Rome as soon as we could. We thought we could bring the rest of the Slayers into the fight..."

A single tear slowly traced its way down Willow's cheek. It wasn't easy knowing how you would die, knowing that nothing but heartbreak awaited her. She couldn't bear to see this future come to pass. Gripping Kennedy's hand for support, she vowed to herself that she would fight. Dying didn't particularly scare her, but the thought of living without Kennedy terrified her.

"I met Buffy, Dawn, and Giles as soon as we arrived. Xander talked for hours about the ol' days, said he knew you'd come with us. But you refused. You wouldn't risk Dawn. You told us that you had turned your Slayers over to Andrew. That he was the one in charge... that all you wanted was peace. I flew to London to speak with him. Xander stayed behind protect the three of you..."

Twenty Five Years Later

Rome

Xander unholstered the automatic pistol by his side, and slowly began to creep into the abandoned warehouse. Buffy had told him that there was a large vampire nest nearby, but Xander wagered that they were demons instead. Illyria, in an ironic twist, had not only been mowing under humanity. It was single handedly trying to wipe out the entire vampire race. Giles had told him it was out of contempt, that it despised the race because of Angelus. Xander knew that what few vampires were left, many were hiding in the farthest corners of the world, trying to avoid both Illyria and its army. Some were brave enough to try and fight, most took to hiding, and all of them met their end when discovered.

Pistol raised, Xander turned the corner and felt his stomach twist into knots at the sight before him. Across the dirt-covered concrete, only a few yards away stood Illyria. The all-powerful Old One who was bent on destroying the world was surrounded by a group of a dozen menacing looking demons. What the hell was she doing in Rome? Her armies hadn't even reached the Eastern Seaboard... so what the hell was going on? Xander pushed his thoughts aside. There was no time for answers. Not when he could end the entire war with one shot. Steadily, he raised the pistol, bringing Illyria's head directly into view behind the sight. He held his breath for a split second, finger easing the trigger back. The shot never fired. Milliseconds away from saving the world, Alexander Harris was clubbed from behind by a small, troll-ish demon. He felt the pain for a second and faded into the darkness, the chance of billions fading with him.

Buffy slowly trudged her way into the kitchen to answer the ringing telephone. No one ever called her anymore, so this was indeed a surprise. Not that she didn't mind of course. She thoroughly enjoyed her peace and quiet. She had seen enough carnage and death to last two lifetimes.

"Hello?" she questioned into the receiver.

"Buffy... help... Illyr... Dawn..." the static filled conversation was cut short as the phone line disconnected.

Immediately, Buffy's Slayer sense kicked into overdrive. She recognized the voice on the other line. It was Xander's. She had simply asked him to investigate the vampire nest she had heard rumors of. What had he gotten into this time? More importantly, what had he said about Dawn? Was she in trouble? Impossible. She was on her way over to the house. She was nowhere near the site of the nest. She instinctively reached for the Scythe, and headed for the door.

"Giles," she yelled as she began to turn the knob. "I'm going out to help Xander. Dawn will be over in about twenty minutes. Keep her company til I get back."

With that, she walked out the door and onto the sidewalk. It was a beautiful day, like most in Rome were. Scythe hidden inside her jacket, she began the twelve block walk towards the warehouse. She could have driven, but she really wanted to enjoy the weather. Besides, Xander could handle himself in a pinch. He was the super-military guy now.

Buffy reached the warehouse entrance and found it disturbingly quiet. This was not a good sign. Removing the Scythe from her jacket and raising itinto a defensive position, she slowly retraced Xander's footsteps. Something was definitely off. There was no smell of ash and sulfur that normally accompanied vampire dustings. There was no sign of blood from recent feedings. Hell, there wasn't even the sound of a fight. She carefully tip toed around the corner and was stopped in her tracks. There, at her feet, was the bloodied and beaten body of Xander Harris. There was a large pool of blood surrounding his body, and she noticed that his pistol was still cocked, tightly gripped in his hand. Panicking, she reached down to take his pulse. She was searching for any signs of life. There were none. Sobbing, she pulled his lifeless body to her breast. It never ended. Almost fifty years of life, overshadowed by the endlessdemise of those she held dear. She and Xander had grown apart over the years, but the bond they shared was always there. Trying to pull herself together, she looked to the wall she knelt in front of. Her breathing stopped suddenly, and a mixture of fear and hopelessness overtook her.

There on the wall, haphazardly painted in the crimson hue of Xander's blood was a word. It was the one word Buffy had not feared in years.

"KEY".

Bolting from her prone position, she raced out of the warehouse, Scythe in hand. She had to get back to the house.

Running dangerously low on breath, Buffy leapt up the small staircase and burst through the front door of the townhouse. Scythe raised, she prepared to kill whoever or whatever was after Dawn. It was the last concentrated thought she would ever experience. There, on the ground in the living room was the body of Rupert Giles. She knew she would not have to check for his pulse, there was too much blood soaking into the fine Italian rug his body rested on. Trembling, trying to grasp on to anything to center her thoughts, her eyes traveled to the wall. There, stroked in blood like before was another word.

"DEATH".

Buffy's mind shut down. She sank to her knees, grip loosening on the Scythe as she descended, finally simply dropping it in front of her. She simply stared in oblivion, slowly lying back. She tried to regain her focus, tried to coax her mind from hiding. It was no use. She simply lay there, refusing to get up, shut her eyes and fell into the sea of darkness that awaited her.

"That was the end," Jake finished slowly. His voice was raw from emotion and his hardened cheeks were moist from tears. He couldn't bring himself to look at either Buffy or Dawn.

"Andrew and I returned to Rome as soon as we heard. But you were already gone. You wouldn't eat, you wouldn't drink, you wouldn't respond to anything. It was like you were in a coma but awake at the same time. Andrew and I took charge of what was left of the Slayer force and went back to the States. It was no use. Illyria... it... it... it killed Dawn... brutally... and it flung open dimensional gates throughout the world. There was no hope. We tried... but weren't enough. The world simply died."

Jake, heart heavy and mind aching, turned his gaze back towards the group seated at the table. Everyone's attention was directed to the floor. Buffy was clutching a sobbing Dawn beneath her arm, almost as if she was afraid she might disappear at that very instant. Willow and Kennedy were still holding hands, grip so tight that Jake could see the white of their knuckles. Giles, Xander, and Andrew simply sat. Jake was still standing. He was looking for any response. Suddenly, Buffy's head shot up. She locked eyes with Jake's. Jake could feel the sadness and anger that swirled those pools of green. His heart broke for the poor girl, but at the same time, he knew she had to know the truth. It was the only way.

"I've seen enough loss in my time," Buffy stated, voice like gravel. "I will not stand by and watch my... family killed off one by one. You want me to fight? I'll bring the fight."

Jake fought back the urge to smile. It wasn't the moment for signs of happiness. He simply nodded. He suddenly noticed that all eyes were back on him. He didn't need to put it to a vote, the grim looks of determination etched on everyone's face were all the signs of approval he needed to see. Finally able to take a deep breath, Jake began to walk forward and around the table, making his way to the door.

"We'll have to leave for Los Angeles tomorrow. Somehow, we've got to convince Angel of what's ahead."

The others simply stared at him. This family before him had healing to do. The stitching that was beginning to tear amongst was going to have to be repaired, and repaired now. But it wasn't his place to do so. He simply turned back to the door and headed out into the calming evening breeze. He needed a drink, one that was fairly strong. So far, he had experienced success. But he knew that the road ahead was going to get rougher, and that they still had miles of it to trek.