The sounds of battle could be heard for miles around. The people fled, fearing for their lives as earthquakes shook the city. Running through the streets, Connor knew exactly what was happening. He knew his real father was out there, at the centre of that noise, and fighting for the lives of every person on the face of this planet.

Connor could see his adopted parents at the end of the road, frantically searching the crowds for him. He stopped and looked back toward the city. Plumes of smoke rose above them, bringing with them the stench of death.

He took one more longing glance at his parents and ran back the way he had come, heading straight for the battle. He knew where he belonged.

oooOOOooo

Angel had lost sight of the others what felt like hours ago. He carried on fighting though, carried on swinging his sword and getting in the punches. He knew the odds of success were always impossible, even when the first seeds of the idea had formed in his head. Now, in the midst of his final battle, he was starting to wonder if it had been the right choice.

Almost on auto-pilot, Angel continued the fight with the never-ending fiends even as he remembered his last conversation with Cordelia. He could see her now, stood inside his plush offices at Wolfram and Hart, looking at him the way only someone who loved you ever could. He could still hear her voice, could still feel her beside him. Still fighting for his life, the memory of their last conversation played out in his mind.

He remembered sitting beside her. He remembered the way she smelt, that sweet fruity scent that always meant she was close. He remembered what he said.

"I know it's not even close to over, but I do feel like I can do this. Wolfram and Hart, whatever's coming, I feel like we can beat it."

She had smiled at him then, that same old beautiful smile.

"I know."

"You do?"

"I always did. I… I just needed you to know it too… You'll win this in the end."

"I need you here. Cordy, there's just -"

She had laid a gentle hand on his cheek then as she fought back the tears.

"Don't make it hard, Angel. I'm just on a different road... and this is my off-ramp. The Powers That Be owed me one, and I didn't waste it. I got my guy back on track. We take what we can get, champ, and we do our best with it. I'll be seeing you."

The memory faded as a Krototh demon's enormous fist connected with Angel's temple. He swung round, ducking beneath the extended arm of another demon, and rose up in front of the Krototh, his sword impaling both the demon and the one behind. Angel leaned back to avoid the vampire lunging toward him and, in one swift motion, withdrew the sword and swung it through the air, decapitating the vampire and mortally wounding his slimey companion. Angel didn't even pause, aware the hundreds of demons that surrounded him never would.

He had taken what he could get and he was doing his best with it. For Cordelia, for Wesley, for Gunn, for Fred, for Doyle, for Connor. For Buffy…

oooOOOooo

Buffy curled her lithe legs beneath her as she relaxed on the bench, letting the glorious sunshine warm her. She loved Italy. The sights, the smells, the freedom she now had since all the potential Slayers had been tapped. She was beginning to feel like a normal girl. A normal girl with a boyfriend called The Immortal, of course, but for her, that actually was normal.

She looked down at the book in her hands, opening the cover to reveal the familiar handwriting and that one word. Always.

He had given her the poetry on her eighteenth birthday and she had cherished it ever since. Even after he left, even after she died, even after all the evil, she still cherished it because she still cherished him.

She held the book to her chest and let his name escape her lips.

"Angel…"

Buffy had been thinking about him a lot recently though she wasn't sure why. Jonathan had let slip that he and Spike had been in Rome looking for her about a month before. Her initial reaction to the news was one of anger, the fact that the two of them were swanning around the world together and had not thought to actually tell her - the supposed love of both their immortal lives - that Spike was alive again. She had been tempted to call Angel, to tell him exactly what she thought of him, but had managed to resist the urge.

Since then, she had been trying to tell herself that it was his recent fleeting visit that was why Angel was so prominent in her thoughts. But she knew deep down that wasn't it. As the Slayer, she had learnt to never ignore her instincts and right now, her spider senses were tingling like crazy. She had toyed with the idea of calling Giles and trying to find out if Angel might be in trouble. But she had never picked up the phone. She couldn't face it.

She laid the book down gently beside her and stared up in to the clear blue sky, enjoying the faint smell of oranges on the breeze as she sunk into the cushions. Buffy knew if she went back, if she saw Angel again, all those old feelings would resurface and she wasn't ready to re-open old wounds.

She let her eyes close, she let herself slip away in to the memories of what she could never have.

"Buffy…"

Her eyes sprung open and Buffy jumped from the bench. She spun around, her fists clenched and ready to fend off the intruder. A figure stood beneath the enormous tree that dominated the garden, their face hidden in the shadows.

"Who are you?"

"A friend."

Wesley stepped out of the shadows. He smiled at her but it didn't reach his eyes. Buffy lowered her fists and stepped forward.

"Wes? What are you doing in Italy?"

He walked away from her, looking up at the clear sky and closing his eyes as he let the sunshine wash over him with a smile. It soon faded. As Buffy came to his side, he opened his eyes and cast her a serious glance. She laid a gentle hand on his forearm.

"Wesley, what's happened?"

"It's not something I can explain. You need to see for yourself."

He turned to face her full on, his fingertips pressing on her temples. Buffy darted backwards, suspicion and confusion obvious in her expression. Wesley gave her a reassuring smile.

"I'm sorry Buffy, this is the only way. You have to see to understand. If you don't understand, you'll never be able to help him or anyone else. The world is ending."

He stepped forward again and this time, Buffy let him touch her though she was still suspicious. Wesley's eyes closed and she felt a strange tingling sensation spread across her forehead as he chanted incantations under his breath. The world around her began to swirl, slowly at first but then more violently. Buffy felt sick from dizziness and wanted to pull away.

"Wesley, what the hell are you…"

Her voice trailed off as she looked around. Her former Watcher was now stood at her side and they were in a dark alley, the rain pelting them. Buffy swallowed hard.

"Well, Toto, it looks like we aren't in Kansas anymore."

Wesley glanced at her, and pointed towards the end of the alley.

"I told you Buffy, you need to see to understand."

A figure was hurrying through the darkness. He stopped and looked around. Buffy could not see his face. She didn't need to.

"Angel…"

She ran towards him but stopped short when she saw Spike emerge from the shadows. Buffy looked back at Wesley. He was still just pointing towards the two vampires. She turned back to them, just in time to see a young black man staggering forward. Angel and Spike helped him to sit on a crate as a strange-looking woman jumped down from the fence. Buffy couldn't hear what the woman had said, but it obviously upset the others.

Rushing forward, Buffy called Angel's name. He didn't seem to hear her as he was busy talking to the others. She stopped right behind him, reaching out to touch his shoulder when he finally turned. He seemed to look right through her. Frustrated, she yelled his name louder and louder. Buffy tried to grab him, to shake some sense in to him, but she passed right through him.

Shocked, she stared at Wesley who was now right in front of her.

"Wesley, what the hell is going on?"

"I told you that you had to see. That's all, Buffy. This is what is happening right now, a world away. This is how the love of your life is going to die."

Speechless, Buffy spun on her heel and marched back towards Angel. But it was then she saw what was coming.

Charging down the alley ahead, hundreds upon hundreds of demons were headed straight for the rag tag bunch. Buffy took a step forward, fear clenching her stomach.

"Wesley…"

The Englishman was beside her again, a tired sigh escaping him as he hung his head.

"Angel's brought on the apocalypse. The earth's going to Hell in a handbasket. Well… In an alley actually."

Buffy couldn't tear her eyes away from the army getting ever closer.

"They're all going to die. Angel, Spike…."

Buffy paused as she looked back at the gang.

"Hang on, where are you? Where's Cordelia?"

Wesley smiled sadly as he took a step closer to the Slayer, his fingertips hovering above her temples.

"Our time already came and went. We can not help in this battle, not like you can. Not like you must. He needs you, Buffy, everyone does. This is it. This is judgement day."

Buffy's eyes were drawn back to Angel, his sword raised ready to fight.

"So what do I do?"

"You help. You save the world. Again."

Buffy's eyes sprung open. She was still lying on the bench. She'd been asleep.

Sitting up slowly, Buffy tried to gather herself. She grabbed her cell phone and punched in Giles' number, desperate for some answers. With the ringing sounding in her ears, she looked down at the book laying crumpled on the ground. Carefully, she picked it up, her fingers tracing the simple inscription. Always…