Chapter 15: I Wish I Never Saw The Sunshine

In which we get exposition on vampire Slayers and Slayer vampires. And oh: crime!

Dawn heard the banging on the door. The sun had been up for a few minutes and even though part of her was still screaming it's Buffy! she didn't allow herself to believe it was anyone but Angel. A pretty good guess as it turned out, only he wasn't alone. He was carrying Giles.

"Oh my God, is he...?"

"Unconscious, but I think he's fine. I found him just a few blocks from here. I think he's hit his head again. Is Xander in? I haven't been invited, and you don't really live here..."

Anya rolled out into the living room. "Do fiancées count? Come in, Angel."

Apparently that was close enough, and Angel could carry Giles inside and put him on the sofa. "Fiancée?" Anya nodded, distracted and worried about Xander. "Congratulations. Where is he?"

"Out looking for Giles. I tried telling him it was dangerous, and stupid, and that he'd wind up getting himself killed or eaten, or probably both, but he wouldn't listen."

Angel nodded. "Dawn, you might want to sit down." He told them what he'd found at Buffy's grave, and about the fruitless hours he'd spent tearing around Sunnydale desperately trying to pick up her scent again.

"So is she alive or not?"

He'd been ready for Dawn to break down, but once again she surprised him... and scared him. She seemed much too calm, as if she'd gone past the point where anything could hurt her. "I'm sorry, I really don't know. She could be out there, confused, trying to find us."

"Or maybe she doesn't want to be found. Maybe she was happier without us. She killed herself, remember?"

Angel wished he had a reply for that, but he didn't. "When Xander gets back, you should go look for her. I wish I could but..."

"Sunlight. Vampire. Right. It's not like I'd ask you to run around with a blanket over your head or anything."

He reached out to comfort her, but she just stood up and walked into the guestroom, slamming the door behind her.

"How are you feeling?" Angel handed Giles a glass of water. He looked awful, his face bruised and swollen, but at least he didn't seem to be seriously hurt. It was almost noon, Xander and Dawn had left just an hour ago to do a sweep around Sunnydale, starting with the house.

"Like I was just teleported straight into a brick wall. Where are the others? Is everyone..."

Angel filled him in.

"Oh dear Lord. So you don't have any idea what's happened to her?" Giles sat up, still obviously in pain. "A-are you sure she wasn't... that Willow didn't..."

Angel shook his head. He had been forcing himself not to think about that, but he had to know. "If she has... what would that make Buffy?"

For a long time, Giles didn't answer. The idea of Buffy being turned was just too appalling to even consider, but he was a watcher and it was time for him to do his job."The thing you need to understand is that no one really knows what a Slayer is. The watchers are perfectly happy to use her as a weapon, but if anyone ever knew where her power comes from, that knowledge was lost centuries if not millennia ago. Some have speculated that the Slayer's powers are demonic in origin, which makes as much sense as anything, I suppose... What we do know is that all Slayers appear to be torn between two impulses; the urge to protect – even Faith at her darkest had that – and the lust for the kill. Normally, those two impulses balance out, work together to create an instrument of good. However, imagine a Slayer where you remove the...humanity."

"A vampire."

Giles cringed. "Quite. It stands to reason that whatever the dark side of the Slayer is, demonic or not, would only become stronger. There are... some known cases, though surprisingly few. I believe the most well-documented case was in 1682, when a German slayer named Anna was turned."

"And what happened?"

"You... might say she found her calling. She turned into a single-minded, cold-blooded murderer, worse than any other vampire."

Angel nodded. "Sounds familiar."

Giles suddenly slammed his glass down on the table, cold fury in his voice. "Don't you fucking DARE sound that flippant about it. I don't need any reminders of what you were. The others may choose to overlook it, but I can't. I've never forgotten for one second what you did to Jenny and me. But you had one weakness, you..." Angel didn't respond, and Giles calmed down as old wounds poured into new ones and he just couldn't focus on staying angry. "Y-you enjoyed yourself... you loved hurting people. Anna, on the other hand, would never do anything as... human as to taunt her victims, play with them, torture them. She was only in it for the kill, starting with everyone she had known in her life – her watcher, her family, her friends, her home town. As if she wanted to eradicate everything that reminded her she hadn't always been a monster. And after six months as a moderately successful Slayer, she was fantastic at it."

Angel was silent for a while. "So if Buffy..."

"Then God help us all."

Willow and Tara sat down for a cup of coffee and a what-the-hell-is-going-on talk. It had only taken only two stops – bank and library – to confirm what was not going on. The bank clerk had threatened to call the cops when Willow showed him her First Bank Of Sunnydale card, which meant that they were down to the cash they had on them, and not a single atlas of California showed anything called Sunnydale. A google search had only brought up a few hits, all related to a pilot for an old TV series that never got picked up. Yet their pockets were filled with UC Sunnydale student IDs, receipts from various stores in Sunnydale, and some phone numbers – all with an area code that, apparently, didn't exist. And still, none of them could remember anything specific from before they came here.

"OK, so if Allen Funt doesn't turn up in the next five minutes, I think it's safe to say we're not in Kansas anymore. And if I click my heels together any more, I'm going to wear holes in my shoes." Willow was still a bit freaked – it's not every day you discover that you don't know who you are. Tara reached across the table and took her hand, smiling.

"It's OK. We'll figure this out."

"Tara...we need to go see her. I don't know if she has any idea what's going on, but there has to be a reason I've been dreaming about her."

"Sweetie, you heard what they said. She's been in a mental institution for five years,what can she possibly know?"

"I don't know, but... call it a notion with a side of hunch. Also, what else is there? We can stay here until we run out of money, or we can follow the only lead we have. Just trust me on this, please."

Tara smiled at her girlfriend. She might not remember her own life, but she knew Willow loved her, and that made her feel like she could do anything. "You know I do. If this is what you want to do, I'm behind you 100 percent. Besides, it's just a few hours' drive."

"Yeah, about that... we have just enough money to gas up the car or pay the motel bill..."

Linda heard the roar of the Mustang as it tore out of the motel parking lot. Damn, they're in a hurry... uh-oh. Wait a second. She left the office and ran to room 19. Empty, just the key on the table. The note promising they'd mail the money had been blown behind the radiator by the draft when she opened the door, and she didn't see it.

"Fucking... DYKES!" Here she'd gone out of her way to be friendly to them, and not only had they avoided her, now they'd taken off without paying their bill. That was coming out of her paycheck, and Mr Felder wouldn't let her forget it anytime soon – if he didn't simply fire her. No way they were getting away with this. But what if she could get back at them and Boss From Hell at the same time? She walked back to the office, and as she picked up the phone she opened the cash register and started stuffing money in her pockets.

"Hello? Police? I'd like to report a robbery..."