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: I'm so sorry for the delay – it's been one hell of a fortnight. My mother fell down the stairs and badly broke her shoulder, and she's had to have it replaced (I saw the X-Ray – cool titanium arm!). I'm writing again, but very slowly, because my ankle is a lot worse, so I'm spending most of my time clock-watching or reading fics to stop myself clock-watching (painkillers are goooood). I'm about twelve chapters ahead on where I've posted, so I'll try to post again soon.

Chapter Twelve: Talks

"It was…strange. Cold. Very dark. The guards don't like wasting torches on us."

Dawn was curled up on the couch, nursing a cup of tea and blood. The Scooby gang were seated around, watching her intently. She was so different from the girl that had disappeared from the Magic Box only yesterday. Faith had asked her what Phtygiktha was like, since Buffy had barely spoken a word since they'd walked back to 1630 Revello Drive. It was hardly likely Buffy would talk to them about it anyway, they all knew.

"We were mostly mining," Dawn continued. "A type of ore. I think it was chemically similar to iron, but I never quite understood it. Not exactly a genius, here." She gave a tight smile. "It was…" She shook her head. "There were so many people. Slaves. Some of them had been in there for decades – most had been born slaved." She closed her eyes, remembering them. "They've organised themselves into resistance cells, within the work units. That only happened fairly recently – a hundred years ago, it became widespread, although there's always been some form of resistance, ever since Annie." She grinned suddenly. "And the stories they tell – Buffy swears up and down that they're exaggerated, but even so! The things she did!"

"You don't call her Annie," Sarah observed. Dawn shook her head.

"She…called herself Buffy," she explained. "Not many people believed she really was Annie, at first, and she always said that she was the Slayer, so she ought to be called Buffy. She said I shouldn't change my name either, and back then I listened to everything she said."

"Were you ever separated?" Angel wanted to know.

"Oh, yeah, loads of times," Dawn nodded. "Buffy kept getting sent on work details, and I stayed back to look after the pregnant women. Then she always gets in trouble, so she's sent to the cells…but we've always been in the same work unit." She looked down at her hands, scarred and roughened. "She looked out for me."

Buffy sat on the back steps, staring into space. Xander had been right, physically she hadn't aged at all. She had more scars than she had ten years ago – a day ago – and she had a life growing within her, but physically she hadn't aged more than a day.

She knew there would be questions. She wasn't ready to face them, however. Dawn knew. She'd not been able to keep it from her, as Dawn had grown and aged in the hell dimension and she herself had not.

It was strange, being back out. She'd lived most of her life in Phtygiktha. It was home to her – if not a very pleasant home. She knew how to live, in Phtygiktha – how to act and speak and think. Here, in this dimension…she didn't. Not really.

At least she still remembered Hattie, although it had been strange to be greeted by the child, when they'd reached Dawn's old home. For a moment her instinct had been to look behind her, to see who the girl was running towards, but she'd remembered in time, and had hugged Hattie.

Some of the things her daughter had said though, in her rushed jumble of sentences…they confused her, and scared her a little, especially coupled with other things she knew or half-remembered.

Glory.

She knew how to deal with the hell god now – and not just how to run fast enough to get away from her, but how to fight her, and defeat her. Not kill her, of course, that was impossible, but stop her for just long enough. And all she needed to do was stop her for just long enough…

After that, she would dissolve the bond between the escapees. Why there hadn't been pain when she was in Phtygiktha she didn't know, but she would no longer ask them to stay close to her and to each other. They should be free to live their own lives, as she was not.

Because she wasn't. She was the Slayer. She finally understood what that meant. After many years of denial, many years of trying to be something she wasn't…she finally understood.

She sighed and cupped her chin with her hands. Life sucked. Sometimes she wished she were just sixteen again. But then she wouldn't have met her mates, or had her children, or be pregnant, or any of it.

She finally lifted her eyes to the leather-clad figure sitting next to her. "Thank you. For staying out here with me."

Spike shrugged awkwardly. "Didn't think you ought to be alone, luv."

"I appreciate it."

Spike was one of the things Hattie had babbled about. She'd told Buffy that the 'blond old man' was hurting and that he was Alpha.

Buffy shook her head. Hattie didn't know what she was talking about. Spike wasn't an Alpha, and certainly not her Alpha. She didn't think.

She risked a glance at him. He was smoking – his third cigarette, she thought, or possibly his fourth. She hated cigarettes, but it wasn't about to kill him – or her, for that matter.

"So, pet, who's the father?"

She shook herself out of her thoughts. "Huh?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "The father of the baby, Slayer. Y'know, the one in your womb?"

Buffy flushed a little. "Oh. Sorry. Um, he was…a guy in another unit. We were paired to breed."

Spike frowned. "That doesn't sound overly pleasant."

"It wasn't," Buffy said with a tight smile. "But Mark was a decent enough guy, and it's not like we had much of a choice." She rubbed her hand over her abdomen. "Not regretting it, though. I've done too much regretting in my life."

He tilted his head. "How's that, pet?"

"Being a slayer…being a slave, not being able to save the people I cared about, people I loved…I killed my first mate, Spike, and was forced to watch as my first child was murdered in front of me. Then Dave – Hattie's father – and the things I did in Phtygiktha…" She shook her head. "I can't regret it anymore. It's all made me who I am, and why should I regret that?"

"So you don't have any regrets?"

Buffy smiled an impish smile suddenly. "Well, there is one."

Spike finished his cigarette and raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I slept with this guy once…never got to tell him how good it was." Her eyes danced with merriment. "Hey, could you pass on the message for me? I think you know him – peroxide hair, wears leather, likes to think he's a big bad evil vampire…

"Hey!" Spike interrupted. "I'm bad, alright! I just…have a soul, too!" He paused. "Wait, hold on a minute…"

She grinned. "Slow much? Guess that peroxide really did cause brain damage." Her grin faded. "Spike, I'm going to need your help."

"You've got your whole group, Slayer, why d'you need me?"

She hesitated. "I…Spike, do you trust me?"

"Not as far as Giles could throw you," Spike said with a grin. "Nah, just kidding. 'Course I trust you."

"Hattie said something to me," she said abruptly. "I'm not sure how, or why…she's always been a little more aware of things than other people – she can tell if people are vampires, or if a demon is from another dimension, little things like that. And she's always been able to tell what kind of mate everyone in our group is. But she said something to me…"

"She said I'm Alpha," Spike nodded. "She said it to me earlier, after you and the Bit had disappeared." He glanced at her curiously. "What exactly does that mean, luv?"

She grimaced. "You want me to explain the whole family structure to you? Now?" She shook her head. "For that, I need…" She trailed off, a look of thoughtful remembrance on her face. "I seem to remember liking ice cream."

He grinned. "Yeah, I'm sure you do. Ice cream bar's open."

"Let's go."

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Coming next chapter:

Spike, Buffy, ice cream.