Title: Black and Blue

Summary: Buffy is abused by her father, and Angel's father left when he was just a kid. So what happens when the two meet?

Rating: R at the most

Authors Notes: This was inspired by Areosmiths song Janie's Got a Gun. I did not write the song, and therefore I do not own it. Everything else it mine though.

Feedback: I would really appreciate it if you could review my story. It would mean a lot.

Chapter 1

Before You Read- Originally I had the lyrics of this song to start you out for the story, kind of to set the mood. This story though has recently been deleted though because I overlooked the fact that you couldn't have lyrics in any of your stories. So, if you would like the lyrics version of this chapter, please just e-mail me and I'll send it to you. You really aren't missing out on anything for the moment though, but it will become a huge part of this story later on. Enjoy!

"If you ever come back here you fucking bitch I swear to god I'll kill you!" Buffy slammed the door shut on her father's drunken rambling. She didn't know how many times she had heard that story before. It was always the same. Damon would go out, get his fill of women and whiskey, and then come back home, cursing the very existence of his only daughter. If she was lucky, Buffy was able to get out of the house before things turned for the worse.

Wrapping her dark leather coat around her shoulders tighter she walked down the dirt road, heading into town. There was a spot down by the railroad tracks where she usually stayed on nights like these. She didn't even know why she went though. The next day Damon would come and find her, begging her to come back home, telling her that things would be different this time around, that he would change. More then anything Buffy wanted to believe him, and she did. Or so she thought. It was more of denial then anything else. She just wanted him to be the man that everyone else saw.

Damon was one of the most respected people in the small town of Sunnydale. He was a high paid doctor at the town's local doctor's office. Most of his cases were filled with minor cuts and scrapes, but every once in a while some one would come in with a serious injury, needing almost immediate surgery, and Damon preformed it every time. He hadn't lost a patient yet. Except one that is.

A small bridge ran over a meadow, allowing the train to run across the vast field, without quite ruining the surrounding. This was Buffy's spot. The tight little dank area under the bridge, where the grass grew less green is where she'd made her home a couple times a month for the past five years. She was sixteen years old, but already she felt as if she were forty.

Snuggling down into the slightly damp grass Buffy pulled her legs up to her chest, trying to ward off the cold. Sighing softly she closed her eyes, preparing herself for the nightmares that always tended to haunt her dreams. Within moments she was lost.

Angel sighed as he walked through the door and saw his mother passed out on the couch. Quietly he walked over to her on his tip toes so as not to wake her up. Reaching over he pulled the afghan off of the chair and draped it over her sleeping form. She smelled highly of alcohol and sex.

Looking up above him he hoped that his little sister was upstairs safely tucked away. When his mother got like this, the children were never her first priority. Relief flooded him though as he walked up stairs and peeked into his baby sister's room. She lay safely under the covers, bundled up in her blankets to stay warm.

Closing the door quietly behind him he dragged himself to his room. He had been at the school for the past twelve hours studying everything he possibly could on Socrates. His report was due in two days, and he had only just started on it. It wasn't like he was a procrastinator or anything like that, far from it actually. The problem really was that he had his four year old sister Kathy to take care of, and a thirty four year mother that he constantly had to worry about. But trying to tell this to your teachers doesn't matter. In a school filled with over eight hundred kids, there was bound to be "slackers". And that's exactly what every person in his high school thought of him.

Sighing heavily he dropped his bag to the ground and barley even made it to the bed before collapsing. He couldn't remember when the last time was that he had slept. It had been the same routine since before he could walk, and then when his father left, things only got worse. Kathy was to young to remember what it was like, having a family. The dysfunctional little group that he used to believe in as his home had all turned on him the moment he was old enough. And with Kathy being born a few years ago, things just seemed to progress more towards darkness.

He loved his little sister more then anything in the world. But sometimes he wished that she had never been born, for her sake more then his. To be brought into a world where your mother could really care less if you lived or died, and a father who was pretty much none existent, wasn't something he wanted her to have. So he was there for her every single step of the way, allowing his life to be devoid of anything else.

Shutting his eyes he willed the peaceful slumber to over come him. He had to be back up to get Kathy off to preschool in only three hours time. But no matter how hard he tried, sleep just wouldn't come. Something was bugging him. It was almost like a nagging sensation in the back of his mind, like there was something he had to do. But what?

The screeching of his bedroom door turned his thoughts. Looking over, a small girl stood in the entry way, clinging to her stuffed teddy bear.

"What's wrong Kathy?" He asked his baby sister.

She stood shuffling her feet back and fourth on the carpet. "I had a bad dream. Can I sleep with you?" She asked hopefully.

Nodding his head in consent she smiled and with a running leap threw herself on top of her older brothers bed, snuggling down into the sheets. "S'ank you." She mumbled as her little head hit his pillow, already fast asleep.

He smiled and brushed some of her baby fine hair away from her eyes. Leaning down he kissed her goodnight and laid back to try and get some sleep himself. If it would come that is. But in a moment's time, he entered his dream world, watching the images of a young girl trying to hide bruises and scars from the outside world.

Miles away, that same girl turned over in the dewy grass, exposing the welt on her right arm.