Author's Notes: Set four years after 'Becoming' part two. Buffy ran away, and didn't come back. Now, four years later, she's about to be reminded of who and what she really is.

Rating: PG-13. Language and strong themes. Sorry, kiddies.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise is mine. Don't sue, please.

Feedback: Very welcome. Constructive criticism is welcome; flames will be used to help me toast marshmallows.

Chapter Notes: Thanks again for all the feedback. I'm still about twelve chapters ahead, so more will be forthcoming. No chapter tomorrow, however, as I'm off to see 'Julius Caesar' with Kirina. Fun times! This chapter is dedicated to Lauren, for not changing.

Chapter Five: Comprehension

"Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" Ethan demanded, nearly yelling at her, the moment after she reappeared in the lounge. "Do you have any comprehension of what your little disappearing act has done to your friends?"

"I went to Sunnydale," she said in clipped tones. "I met...my sister." She looked over at Giles and Spike accusingly. "You didn't tell me Angel was back from his hell dimension."

"Didn't think about it, pet," Spike said roughly. "How the hell d'you get to Sunnyhell and back in ten hours?"

"Magick," she said briefly. "Ethan, is Marcus okay?"

"Ask him yourself," the sorcerer snapped, turning her back on her and gazing out of the window. "He's upstairs, asleep on your bed. Mandy's keeping an eye on him. Sarah's here, as well."

Buffy frowned. "How – never mind. Ella asleep?"

"Yeah," Spike answered, since no one else seemed about to. "Hattie and the pintsize, too."

She looked at him differently for a moment, then smiled. "Thank you, Spike."

"What for, pet?"

"For...not changing." She stretched carefully, feeling the effect of so much magick. "Ye gods, I'm tired."

"Yes, well, that's what you get for teleporting across the country," Ethan said in clipped tones, still not looking at her.

She frowned. "You were really worried about me, huh?"

"When nearly half the escapees turn up here at some point this afternoon because their marks were burning from the distance between you all, and when Hattie was screaming all afternoon? Forgive me for being a little worried, Annie."

She eased her aching limbs into motion and wrapped her arms around him from behind. "I'll make it up to you," she murmured. "I promise." Giles shook his head and went into the kitchen.

"Don't promise," Ethan said roughly. "You're not good at keeping them, as I recall."

She stepped away, sadness drifting over her like a cloud. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's – I...I'm sorry." She shrugged listlessly. "It's all I can do, Ethan. Promise. I don't have anything else to give."

"You have to have," he told her. "If you're going to help Ripper and his lot."

"And I have to do that, Ethan. Don't you see?"

"I see you running back home when they finally catch up with you. I see you craving acceptance just like you always have. I see you giving in to them, Annie, just like you did in the mines!"

"Stop it," she whispered, stricken. But he didn't.

"I see a little girl with no idea the harm she's doing to the people around her. Selfish and self-centred, and ready to go running back to your old life at the drop of the hat, never mind the work you've put in here to make a life for yourself, never mind Hattie and me and Ella and everyone else."

"Stop it."

"And I see you wanting it! You think you deserve their condemnation, when it should be you giving them recriminations, Annie!"

"Stop it, Ethan!" Sarah snapped from the top of the stairs. "Can't you see you're just hurting her more?" She descended quickly and enveloped Buffy in her arms. "Honey, what's going on?" she asked gently. "C'mon, you can tell me."

"I – I can't," Buffy whispered brokenly. "I'm sorry." She shook her head blindly. "I wish...I wish Alex was here. Or Max."

"But Max is here," Sarah said in confusion. "Didn't Ethan tell you? No, of course he didn't," she answered herself with a glare at the sorcerer. "He's in the basement."

Buffy's eyes widened and she disappeared within moments.

"So will someone tell me what's going on?" Spike inquired. "Or do I have to sniff it out myself?"

"Alex and Max were two of Annie's lovers," Sarah explained. "She was close to them, very close."

"Right. So how many of you lot did she actually sleep with, anyway?"

"I suggest you leave that line of questioning," Ethan said coolly. "Now."

Sarah stuck her tongue out at him, a very silly act for someone who appeared to be in her late thirties. She jerked her head towards the door, glancing at Spike as she did so, and he took the hint and followed her out onto the front porch.

"You have a fag? I'm dying here," Sarah told him. He silently handed one over with his lighter. She lit up and took a deep drag before throwing back the lighter. "Thanks. Don't tell Annie, though, she'd kill me."

"Yeah, never did peg her for one to like smokers."

"Oh, she doesn't like me. Not all that much. We just have history, is all."

"So she slept with you, too?"

Sarah gave a wry grin. "No, not me. I was never...we were only in the same work unit for a little while, while she was pregnant with Charlotte. But Max and I had a thing, one time, and Max was always odd about it, which made Annie and I odd about it."

"Alright, slow down, chook. Who's Charlotte?"

"Annie's second child."

"And Max..."

"Annie's second mate."

Spike frowned. "This...is a little confusing. And not at all like the Slayer I remember."

"None of us came out of that place the same," Sarah told him quietly. "Annie...well, she only trusts people who've slept the night with her and have hung around in the morning. For real, Spike, you'd better not hurt her, or you'll have several dozen of us refugees to deal with."

Spike stared. "Uh, did I miss something?" he demanded. "Not looking to hurt her. Just want her to get back to Sunnydale and help us with the new Big Bad."

"Sure," Sarah smirked. She put out her cigarette with her shoe. "Sure."

"Hey, Sarah, Spike." Buffy stood at the door, eyebrow raised. "Sarah, you weren't smoking again?" Sarah shrugged. "Well, please don't. Max needs a word with you about Toni." Sarah nodded and went indoors. Spike sighed in irritation.

"And Toni is..."

"Max and Sarah's daughter," Buffy told him with a slight smile. "She's twenty-one. Don't worry about keeping everyone straight. Not even I can always do that, and I –"She cut herself off and grew serious. "Spike, if I'm going to do this, I can't come alone."

Spike nodded. "I figured Ethan'd come, and Hattie too."

"No," she said softly. "I don't just mean them. I mean all of us. All of the escapees."

"How's that, luv?"

Buffy turned and looked back into the house. "How many people showed up here this afternoon?" she asked instead of answering. "Nearly half, Ethan said. Thirty or so? Forty?"

"'Bout that, yeah," he nodded. "Gonna explain this anytime soon?"

"They're bound to me," She said abruptly. "All of them. Not the children, of course – the young ones. But anyone who was ever in Phtygiktha swore an oath to me. A blood oath. To follow me and aid me. To help me fight back against our captors. We didn't realise it was so strong, when we did it...I was pregnant with my second child, Charlotte...maybe that affected it...but they're all bound to me, now. If they go too far away from me, they're in agony. Or if I go too far away from them. I can draw strength from them. Sometimes I do it without realising. It made us into a coven, of sorts, but a huge one. There are nearly a hundred of us that got out after Ethan came in. There were three hundred of us in there, and I couldn't get them all out. They're dead by now – time moves differently, and the pain of the bond through dimensions..." She shook her head. "So much blood on my hands, Spike. So much..." She cleared her throat awkwardly. "But the point is, they'll all have to come. All of them. All ninety-six of them, and Ethan and Hattie and Marian and the others."

"How will you get them there?" Spike asked after a moment. "I mean, they can't exactly all take a bus..."

"Ethan and I will set up a transportation spell," Buffy shrugged. "With the whole group, it'll take next to no power at all from each of us. I told you that the blood increases our magickal ability, right?"

Spike dipped his head. "Yup. Way the Watcher tells it, you couldn't do a spell to save your life back in Sunnyhell."

Buffy smiled crookedly. "No. Not that I can remember, anyway." She absently traced the scar on her face. "And I don't remember all that much. Faces, some names. It gets confusing. I don't like to think about it."

"Annie?" Ethan stepped onto the porch and cast Spike a glance. "The others are going to bed. Do you want to sleep tonight, or not?"

"No, I won't," she said softly. "I need to put the call out, and check out that portal. And I should really catch up on my emails."

"Annie, you need some sleep at least," Ethan reminded her.

"No," she shook her head. "Did Max tell you? Simone is dead."

Ethan suddenly looked ten years older. "By all the gods, Annie, why didn't you say something to me?"

She shrugged. "Not much point, is there? We're dropping like flies. That's eight now."

"Eight suicides since coming out of there? Not bad, if you ask me, Slayer," Spike commented. She looked away from him, away from the light escaping the house.

"Not good enough," she whispered. "Simone...Simone was my mate. One of them." She shrugged and plastered a smile onto her face. "Ethan, could you make sure everybody's ready to move out in the morning? We'll need a major transportation spell, as well as supplies to last...say a month? That should do it. Plus anything you have on Hell Gods would be helpful." Ethan nodded and disappeared. Buffy turned to Spike. "Spike, would you –"

He interrupted her by pulling her roughly into his arms and kissing her.

His lips were as cold as she remembered, and his leather duster smelled the same. He tasted of cigarettes and blood and oh! decades of nutmeg and kisses. His arms wrapped around her, holding her safe, and for a moment she almost pretended it was Alex or Max comforting her as they had done in Phtygiktha...

Then she broke away, a curious but distant expression on her face. "What was that for?"

Spike shrugged, sucking in a needless breath. "Dunno."

"Then don't do it again. I don't like people kissing me without a reason."

"Mom!"

Buffy's face lit up and she turned to greet the young woman walking up the path. "Charlotte!"

Charlotte practically ran up the steps onto the porch and enveloped her tiny mother in her arms. Curious blue eyes flicked towards Spike, then as she drew back, she looked at her mother again. "Mom, are you alright? The brand – and Simone, and Marta – are you alright?"

"I'm fine, sweetie," Buffy soothed, smoothing Charlotte's blonde hair away from her face. "I'm glad you're here, though. We're leaving in the morning."

Charlotte's face, so like her mother's, became troubled. "Is Jake here?" she wanted to know.

"No, not yet." Buffy glanced at Spike. "This is Spike...an old friend, of sorts. From before Phtygiktha."

Charlotte whistled. "Old indeed. That was, what, fifty-seven years ago?" Buffy nodded.

"Grandmom!"

Buffy laughed happily as two small boys leaped on her. "Toby! Zach! You've grown, I swear!" Still smiling, she led her family into the house with one last glance at Spike.

Spike frowned. Why the hell did Charlotte – supposedly Buffy's daughter – look as though she could be her mother?

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Coming next chapter:

Buffy dreams of blood and Alex.