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 am actually nearly finished the writing of this. Which is yay for me, since it's been a long time since I started this and I want to move on to other projects – not least of which is my A levels in two months time! I'm currently eight chapters ahead of posting, and there's (I think) four chapters or so left to write. So, keep reviewing, 'cos it helps me write!

Chapter Twenty-five: Disturbed
They were all gathered at Dawn's house. The Scoobies plus Buffy's closest clan members – which meant Max, Jake, Sarah, Ethan and Toni. Marcus and Charlotte had both begged off in favour of making sure the other children weren't too traumatised.

Buffy had been carried into the house by Spike. She lay on Dawn's bed now, eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. She'd not spoken a word since being told that Hattie had been taken, nor had she moved of her own accord.

"It's nothing to do with the blood dependency," Max said in the crowded front room. "Or the bond, or the clan. There's nothing I can do to get her out of it by any of our bonds. It's something else."

"Something magical?" Willow ventured. "Because, maybe there's a spell we could find…"

"No," Ethan said sharply. "No magicks are worked on her. Not without her say-so." He stared out of the front window. "Toni, would you make coffee?"

"Sure, Ethan," Toni nodded, subdued. She went through to the kitchen. After a moment Dawn followed her.

"Why can't we use magic on her?" Anya demanded. "If it would bring her out of this stupid trance thingy…" She pursed her lips together as Xander gave her a look. "What? I'm just saying! Buffy's being all 'me me me', and I –"

"Her daughter was taken by a hell goddess," Sarah cut in. "Do you have any conception of how painful it is? To watch a child be taken away, be tortured, be killed? And to know that you couldn't do anything to stop it?" She closed her eyes and leaned into Max's arms. "And this isn't the first time for Annie."

"But there's nothing she can do while she's comatose!" Anya retorted.

"Anya has a point," Angel ventured. "Shouldn't we get her to a hospital?"

"Over my dead body," Jake told the vampire with a thin veneer of civility. "Back off."

"Hey," Faith jumped in. "No need to be jumping on each other's throats."

""Well, I wouldn't have been if –"

"I really think that we –"

"Ethan, can't you –"

"You're being completely unreasonable –"

"Shut up."

The two terse words from Spike cut through the arguing people like a knife. All eyes turned to him, but he continued to stare at the floor. He sat at the bottom of the stairs, smoking. Nobody had wanted to remind him not to smoke indoors.

"Glinda, Red. Find Glory," he said after a moment. "She's got to show up on a locater spell. Rayne, help them. Faith, Peaches, patrol. I don't want anything getting in my way later. Watcher, research with the Whelp and Demon-girl."

"What do you want us to do?" Max asked wearily, referring to the clan members. "We can help research…"

"Fine. Whatever. Just…keep out of Dawn's room, no matter what you hear." He finished his cigarette and stood up. "Find something for me to use against Glory." He ran a hand through his hair as Toni and Dawn returned. "Nibblet, do me a favour?"

"Sure, Spike," she nodded, subdued.

"I need, uh, two candles, a china bowl, and a sharp knife."

"What for?" Dawn asked, even as she went to a cabinet for the candles.

"How the hell do you know about Dragna trances?" Sarah demanded incredulously. "It's – it's one of the most secret – "

"Buffy told me," Spike realised. "Somehow she told me…" He shrugged and took the things Dawn held out to him. "Doesn't matter. Get cracking, people."

With that, he turned and strode up the stairs.

The room was dark, but Spike didn't turn on a light. He could see well enough. He put the supplies for the spell on the end of the bed by her feet, then knelt on the floor next to the head of the bed.

"I'll help you," he promised. "God knows why I'm doing all this for you, Slayer, but…but I'll help you."

He lit the candles, then took the knife, and after carefully lifting Buffy's wrist to rest on the rim of the bowl, made a small cut, just enough to draw blood. He nicked his own wrist, and pressed the cuts together.

Something washed through him, and he managed to ground out the three words of the spell before succumbing. "Let – me – in!"

Spike turned around several times, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Two men and a woman were chained to the walls of what appeared to be a well-lived-in cave. Buffy stood with her back to him, a sword in her hand.

"Buffy? Pet? Come on, we've got to get you out of here," Spike said finally, stepping towards her. "Hattie needs you."

"She's dead," Buffy said matter-of-factly. "Excuse me." She brushed past him and walked to the first man: Angel. Or Angelus?

"Go on," Angel encouraged her. "Do it."

"I already did," she whispered sadly, and shoved the sword into his gut before pulling it back. He choked, and then chuckled wryly before disintegrating into dust. Buffy moved to the next man, and Spike followed anxiously.

"Alex," Buffy greeted the man softly. Spike frowned. This was Alex, Buffy's first mate? He was tall, red-haired and scarred all over his visible skin.

"Go on, killer," Alex said calmly to her. "Go on."

Buffy tilted her head slightly and repeated her earlier words. "I already did." This time she raised the sword and sliced it cleanly through her First's neck. Spike flinched at the blood that sprayed over the petite Slayer.

"Buffy, what are you doing?" he demanded. "C'mon, luv, you need to snap out of it."

She glanced at him. "You don't understand," she said patiently. "I couldn't expect you to." She moved to the last person chained, the woman. Simone.

Simone smiled slightly. "Go on, buttercup."

Carefully Buffy made two cuts on Simone's wrists. The life slowly bled out of the woman. Buffy put the sword down and turned to Spike.

"Come on," she said lightly. "There's places I need to be." She reached out her hand and he took it uncertainly.

They walked through a doorway that had suddenly appeared in the rock face, into a bright playground. Spike shielded his eyes, but the sunlight didn't hurt him. He looked around at the swings, the climbing frames, the slides…the children.

There were four children. A redheaded girl of about six – clearly Alex's daughter – was on a swing. A blue-eyed, blonde-haired girl – she was perhaps four, and strongly reminded Spike of Charlotte – pushed herself around the roundabout. A little boy with Buffy's eyes and Max's hair was hanging from the monkey bars. And Hattie stood on the steps to the slide.

"Mommy! Watch me!" she cried out.

"I'm coming," Buffy replied absently, going to the redhead. "Amelie…"

The girl – Buffy's first child - tilted her head and slipped off the swing. "Go on, Mommy."

Spike reacted on a visceral level when Buffy reached out and, holding the child with one hand, placed the other over Amelie's mouth and nose. He turned away and retched. Even he, in his most evil days, had never killed the children of his family. Amelie struggled for a minute, then fell, pale and cold, to the ground.

The boy, Jake, was next. Spike could only watch, helpless, as Buffy snapped his neck, then directly went on to snap Charlotte's neck too.

Hattie slid down the slide and came to stand in front of her mother, looking up with trusting eyes. "Mommy?"

Spike stepped in front of Buffy. "No, pet," he told her heavily. "Stop this. You didn't do this – you could never do this."

Buffy shook her head patiently. "I did," she explained, and stepped past him. She hugged Hattie to her, and then pressed the girl's face against her stomach, smothering her. "I did this, Spike."

Hattie's body dropped to the ground. Spike wanted to shake Buffy, but she slipped out of his reach.

"You didn't do this," he growled. "Hattie's not dead! Charlotte and Jake aren't dead!"

"But they will be," Buffy said with certainty. She looked up as the sky grew dark swiftly, and then she turned expectantly towards the cemetery that had sprung from nowhere. "He's coming."

"Who?"

"A dream is a wish your heart makes," came the mocking tones of the Master. Spike was halfway to his knees before he realised the Master wasn't paying any attention to him, and that this wasn't real anyway. "This is real life," the Master continued. "You still don't understand your part in all this, do you? You are not the hunter. You are the lamb."

"I know," Buffy whispered. Her hand went to the scar on her neck – Spike only noticed it then. He bared his teeth in a possessive growl. She'd been marked – by the Master. Must have been when she'd died. The scar opened suddenly and started bleeding.


"Buffy!" He was at her side in a moment, trying to stop the bleeding. "No, pet, don't you dare –"

They were in the cave again. Angel, Alex and Simone were chained to the walls.

"Buffy, why are we here?" Spike demanded wearily. "Hattie needs you – we need you. What are you trying to tell me?"

"This is what I do," Buffy explained. "The First Slayer was right. I am destruction…absolute…alone. No friends…just the kill…we are alone." She hefted the sword again and went to Angel.

"Whoa, pet, hold on." Spike ignored Buffy's actions as she stabbed his grandsire. "What are you on about?"

"She comes in my dreams," Buffy told him. "Tells me what I am. And she's right." She looked at her three dead lovers. "I kill the ones I love. I drive them away from me." She went to the door and stepped into the playground, and Spike was helpless but to follow. "I killed my children."

"No, Buffy. Jake and Charlotte are still alive – Hattie's still alive!"

The scene played out just as it had before. Buffy killed the four children, then looked at Spike. "You don't understand," she said patiently. "This is what I do. I kill people."

"No," he snapped. "You kill evil things. Not people."

"I gave up, Spike, and now Hattie's dead."

"She's not dead, you silly bint!" Spike exclaimed, exasperated. "Not yet! You can still save her, you bloody little idiot!"

Buffy blinked at him, then as the sky darkened, she turned to meet the Master. "She's dead, Spike," she said steadily. "And so am I."

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Coming next chapter:

Research and flirting.