A/N: I know it's been ages since I've updated but my interest was recently renewed in this story. I don't know if anyone will even read (especially with HP7 just being released -- I read it; best in the series!), but I had fun writing! Also, I know the Jason part is quite long, but I got caught up in his story

"But how will we know what to do after the food runs out or if-"

"Books, honey. When I was your age, they were my best friends -- next to your dad, I mean."

The library was silent and dark and hadn't really been used since before her father had died, which was something Lydia considered illogical in hindsight. So when she pushed open the doors three days after she'd had Lucy kill the demon dog, she found a fine layer of dust coating everything in the huge portion of the building that the Council Library occupied. It took up an entire wing, in fact, and was filled to the brim with everything from ancient tomes to rows of computers with access to the expansive database that her mother had designed to textbooks for the regular school classes.

She propped open the doors to air the place out and paused for a moment to get her bearings. Lydia loved this library and possessed a passion for books that she'd inherited directly from her mother and shared enthusiastically with her Grandpa G. She'd often spent her days lost in the stacks blissfully ignoring and being ignored by the other kids, both older and younger. That was what was so difficult about her position in the post-plague world. She was a leader yet she hated having so much attention focused on her; she was naturally a behind-the-throne type person, and while she was completely capable of running an entire little colony, she'd have given anything to do it out of the spotlight. Or, better yet, not at all. Lydia did not like being responsible for anyone other than herself, let alone a whole crowd of kids dependant on her for their survival. It was that very thought that had brought on an epiphany of sorts, and was the reason she was opening the library.

She'd asked Tommy and Andie to round everyone up and bring them to the little meeting she'd planned. While she waited, she wandered around the familiar stacks, picked a few books off the shelves, and paused at the wall of photos. The library had been the hub of activity before and the Wall had served the same purpose a mantle would in a family home. There were dozens of photos of the Slayers who'd passed through the Academy over the years, shots of friends and the annual picnic, but Lydia's favourite were two in the centre: one of her parents, Grandpa and Aunt in their high school library and a large photo of her entire family. Her Grandpa, parents, aunts and uncles and cousins all smiled down at her and only reinforced her determination to carry this plan through.

The kids began filing in and Lydia was happy to see that the sour expressions that everyone had lately been wearing were replaced with anything but as they wandered into the library. She didn't hesitate to lay it out there. "We can't keep living like this because what we've been doing hasn't really been living. We're hiding and it feels like we're just waiting to die or something." Pleased that she'd caught their attention, she outlined her plan to turn them into a community instead of a refugee camp. They'd grow their own food, set up barrels on the roof to catch rainwater, start training in defense; everything they'd need to survive and do it contently. She didn't tell them that she felt that they were living in a dictatorship -- years of living with warriors had taught her that that would be a bad strategy, even if most of them wouldn't understand the concept. Some would and that would be enough. "So that's my idea, what do you think?"

"I like it," Tommy said immediately. Andie, on the other hand, frowned. "That sounds like a lot of work. How are we going to do it all?"

"Everyone will have to work hard, but it's better than what we're doing now. What do you guys think?"

"How are we going to know how to do all those things?" A boy of about eight asked from the back. Lydia held up the books she'd pulled from the shelves. "Books, and the computers. We have the power from the solar panels." When Lydia was very young solar power had exploded in the world after oil shortages and hydro power price inflation. The group absorbed what she said for a moment and seemed to accept her idea. She wasn't surprised -- they usually did what she said, regardless of the idea.

Suddenly a girl named Aurora spoke up. "We've been practicing a lot-" She didn't clarify who or what, and she didn't need to. Aurora and her twin sister Selene were the daughters of the leader of a coven of witches who'd worked closely with the Council and had been trained to take over since their birth. They knew more magic at age nine than most would hope to know in their lives. "And we could help with that, like making the gardens grow faster and stuff."

Andie crossed her arms defensively "What if some demon or vampire sees us and tries to attack?"

"Then we'll deal with it like last time," Lydia snapped. "Either we starve to death in here or we actually try to survive. Don't forget that we have an entire armory in this place -- a room full of weapons," she explained at the blank looks she received. "We'll be okay if we try." When everyone started to agree, Lydia felt hopeful for the first time in months. "So why don't we all come up with some ideas to make this work?" As the kids started throwing around ideas, Lydia figured this was what her Aunt Buffy must have felt like back when all the Slayers were first activated. She couldn't help but wonder briefly if she was leading her own troops into a losing battle. But at least we're going to fight, she thought.

"Practise makes perfect, baby. Remember that."

Gem watched the rat scurry around the alley looking for something to nibble on. She related to the rodent in that respect but didn't bother to dwell on it. Her mind was elsewhere -- specifically on the lightning strike a few days before. She still felt electrified, sort of, but hadn't been able to produce any power of her own. Of course, she didn't exactly know how to do it, or even if she could, but she'd spent the best part of two days trying to bring electric-powered things to life with no success. Then she'd remembered how her mom had said that for most of her life she'd been unable to touch anyone's skin without electrocuting them and it had given Gem an idea. She didn't want to hurt any other kids and she wasn't stupid enough to go and touch a demon, but rats were plentiful and she didn't have any qualms of possibly killing one.

So she'd hunkered down in an alleyway and waited for one to get close enough. "Here ratty, ratty, ratty," she muttered in a sing-song voice. The rat wasn't scared off by her presence and it only took a few minutes for the thing to approach her. However, when she reached out to touch it, the rat ran in the other direction. Scowling, she waited again, this time for ten minutes, for the rat to get near and when it did she darted after it. "Come here!" She hissed as her frustration bubbled and dove after it but the rat was too quick and scurried just out of her reach. "Stupid rat!" She yelled and heaved an old pop can after it but forgot all about the rodentthe instant the can left her hand, however, because at that moment little bolts of blue traveled between her fingers.

The windows in Nat's little restaurant were dark, as they had been during Gem's first visit a few days before, but this time she was more confident that there were no vampires waiting inside for a kid-shaped snack. He hadn't changed the lock on the window, but he had re-latched it, and she did the same after she'd climbed in. It had taken a lot of thinking to arrive at the decision to return to the demon's house, but demon or not, he'd lived in the world a lot longer than she and would possibly have some answers for her. She was up the stairs quickly and silently only to find the place empty. There were dishes in the sink so she figured he'd be back and took the chance to search the place. He had a small television and computer like every other household, a few photos and the most extensive book collection she'd seen outside a library. When she finally heard Nat coming up the stairs, she remained where she was in the easy chair with the book open on her lap. She didn't have to see his face to sense his surprise when he finally noticed her presence. "You came back," he said. "You didn't get a better lock," she countered and decided that once you got past the little red spikes, he had a kind face. "What are you?" Nat sat himself on the couch. "I'm a Bracken demon. You like to read?" He motioned to the book in her lap, which was far too advanced for Gem's age but she was making a go of it. "I like learning new things," she said with a shrug.

"I bet you miss school," Nat deducted. "School's the last thing on the minds of most kids these days."

"Yeah, well, the more you know the longer you survive."

"I couldn't agree more," he murmured. "Tell me, why did you come back?"

Gem put the book aside to stare down at her hands. "Do you have any powers?" She wasn't quite sure yet just how much she would divulge. Nat leaned back into the couch and regarded her thoughtfully. "I can't fly or anything if that's what you're asking, but I have some abilities, yes." She didn't bother asking what they were as she was too preoccupied with her own burgeoning power. "Have you always had them or did they just appear?" If Nat had any indication of where the conversation was heading he didn't let on. "Always had them. Why?" Gem was silent for a moment and took the time to search his eyes -- the eyes, she'd once heard, were the windows to the soul. Finally she sighed and got to her feet to pace and angle herself closer to the exits (just in case). "My mom was electric," she said quickly, as if ripping off a band-aid. "And I never was, until the lightning hit me." She explained briefly what had happened in the alleyway and waited anxiously to hear what Nat would say. "What were you feeling when you tried to catch that rat?" he asked after a rather long minute. "Angry, frustrated, scared?"

Gem paused her pacing and thought back to the alleyway. She hadn't been scared, but angry and frustrated pretty much nailed the emotions that had been rolling through her like waves. Nat nodded in apparent understanding. "Emotions are almost always connected to power," he said sagely. "I expect that whatever powers your mother had were passed onto you and have lain dormant until that lightning strike activated them." Gem stared at him and suddenly felt like a little girl again. "You talk so…so," she searched for the word, and Nat chuckled. "Eloquently?" Gem shrugged, not about to admit she didn't know what eloquently meant. "Intelligently."

"You're no slouch in the verbal department yourself."

"How do you know?" She asked, jumping back to Nat's explanation about her powers laying dormant, and was pleased when he followed her thought process easily. "I've got a lot of years under my belt and you tend to pick a few things up over time. And I read an awful lot. Like you said, the more you know the longer you survive." He leaned forward, interest gleaming in his eyes. "The question before us is what you want to do about this power of yours." Gem felt a prick of discomfort at the question: she'd already told this demon much more than she should have, and in her opinion knowledge was power. Still, she reasoned, Nat seemed incredibly knowledgeable and willing to share. Maybe the smart thing to do here would be to get Nat's help and expertise while keeping an eye open for something that she could use for leverage if things got sticky. She crossed her arms almost defiantly and raised her chin a notch. "I want to use it." Nat nodded as if he hadn't expected her to say anything else but that. "Well then, let's get started."

"Mom…he said that only the strong survive."

"That's not true. Only the smart survive. Your brains'll get you a lot farther than your fists."

"Lock! Lock, Moira's hurt bad!" Jason whirled around at the panic in Calvin's voice and ran over to where the nine-year-old girl lay on the dirty ground. Even in only the dim light cast by a nearby streetlight Jason could see that her shirt was soaked with blood. Calvin and Darryl looked terrified; Jason valiantly fought the panic bubbling in his throat. "Okay," he said. "Okay, calm down. Panic isn't going to save her." He lifted Moira's shirt to see what had to be a foot-long gash bisecting her chest. "Shit," he breathed, then shared a long hard look with Calvin. "We can't fix this, we need a doctor."

"There are no doctors!" Darryl cried hysterically.

"Yes there are," Jason got to his feet, ordered the boys to put lots of pressure on Moira's wound, and turned and ran as fast as he could. He darted in and out of shadows and alleys to arrive at a dirty black door. He hesitated for only a second -- he'd heard through the grapevine that the demon who lived here could fix anything, but a demon was a demon -- before pounding on the door. It opened a fraction and Jason caught a glimpse of shockingly white eyes. "Please," he implored. "My friend's hurt bad. Her chest-" he held up his bloody hands for inspection and the demon allowed him entry. They exchanged no names and Jason didn't spend to much time looking around the place. The demon didn't waste time on pleasantries either. "What happened to her?" It demanded, already stuffing bandages into a leather bag. "It's a gash, from here to here," he demonstrated on his own chest. "A claw, I don't know what kind." The doctor, who was somewhat reptilian, immediately turned to a cabinet full of strange herbs and loaded a few into the case. "Show me," it instructed, and Jason wasted no time, taking off at a dead run.

Calvin and Darryl hadn't moved their hands from Moira's chest since Jason had left, and when the doctor shooed them aside they reluctantly let up on the pressure. "Good job," the doctor said distractedly, tearing open Moira's shirt. Cal and Darryl looked away, either for modesty's sake or from the horrific sight of the wound, but Jason took the time to watch the doctor's competent hands at work and to study the demon. It was dressed like a regular person in dark pants and fitted sweater. Jason deduced from the pink of the shirt and delicate necklace that this demon was female. "This will do for now," she said, and Jason saw Moira's wound was heavily bandaged. "We must get her back to my place." When she started to pick their friend up, all three boys stepped forward menacingly. "I will not hurt her," the doctor said in exasperation. "She doesn't have much time." Jason turned to the guys and pulled them away from the doctor and Moira. "I'll go with her. You go back and get a few more guys." He told them where the place was and if he didn't come out in thirty minutes, they were to come in fighting.

The doctor laid Moira on the table and scurried around the room for supplies. "What is that stuff?" Jason asked of a pungent balm she applied to his friend's wound. The doctor spared him a look. "It is a healing salve. Antibiotics and blood transfusions are hard to come by these days. And in any case are less effective." Jason took a few moments to go outside to assure Calvin and the others that the doctor seemed on the level before returning to Moira's side. When he came back in she was breathing deeply and her chest was wrapped in strips of cloth that smelled like the balm. The doctor was sipping from a cup and offered him what turned out to be tea.

"What is your name?"

"What's yours?" he countered, and she smiled ruefully. "My name is Alizeh. That girl is lucky to have a friend like you. If you had waited much longer she would have died." Jason shrugged and didn't try to explain the loyalty he felt to any surviving humans. He was reluctant to admit even to himself that he cared about Moira and the others as more than fellow humans -- he'd been with Calvin's group for close to two months and each day found a new reason not to leave. Alizeh pressed on. "How did she come by such a horrible wound?"

"I told you-"

She waved a hand dismissively. "Yes, yes, you told me it was a demon. I understand that most of you children tend to avoid such encounters." Jason pursed his lips and took a good look at Moira, whose colour was already returning, and decided he owed Alizeh at least a bit of the story. "We were hunting vamps, stumbled over the demon going through a dumpster."

"Hunting? You are either very brave or very stupid…but that is your decision."

Jason appreciated that answer and drifted into thought for a few moments. "Where can I get some of that healing stuff?"

"It must be made. It will take several hours for her to heal."

"I'm not leaving," Jason said at once. Alizeh shrugged. "Very well. I have a cot in the back, you may share it if you wish." He did wish to be there in case Moira woke up…or in case the doctor suddenly decided it would behoove her to harvest Moira's organs for those healing balms. After Moira was tucked into the cot and Alizeh was about to head up a narrow staircase, Jason stopped her. "I don't have any money."

"There is more than one type of currency, boy. When the time is right I will call in my favour."

"Lock?"

Jason woke to the sound of Moira's small, unsure voice. The room was still dark but he felt rested so assumed it was nearing dawn. Moira was up on her elbows looking down at her thickly bandaged chest. "What happened?" Jason filled her in quickly and watched as she peeled back one or two of the strips to reveal an angry pink line that would eventually scar. "Whoa," Jason said. "Last night I could practically see your ribs."

"We should get out of here, shouldn't we?"

Jason held out his jacket for Moira to wear and they quietly escaped into the night that was quickly turning to day. But no matter the time they had to be careful -- at night it was the demons and vamps to worry about, in the day it was other kids and the many gangs. This time, however, something completely unexpected tripped them up: as they rounded the corner a black limousine pulled up alongside them and the back window rolled down. Jason hadn't seen a car in motion in months but wasn't about to let his surprise slow him down. "Run!" He said, but as he and Moira went to bolt, their path was blocked by a very large demon that Jason knew they'd have no chance against. Moira did an abrupt about-face and darted in the other direction. The large demon let her go and she looked back to catch Jason's nod of approval to keep running. "Do you have a few minutes?" A voice asked from within the car. "Do I have a choice?" Jason retorted, and was answered by the door opening in silent invitation for them to get in. He slid into the car and the door shut firmly behind them. The owner of the voice looked remarkably human, save for some minor demonic indicators. He was wearing an expensive suit and everything about him screamed gangster. He smiled in a way that made Jason feel even more uneasy. "I've been watching you for some time, Mr. Lock."

"Why?"

"Because I like to know what goes on in my city."

"Your city?"

"That's right. I plan to restore order to Boston."

"What does that have to do with me?" Jason asked guardedly. "And who are you?"

"My name's Leo and I'd like to recruit you, as it were. I need men on the streets to liaise with the humans, and you're the most intelligent and resourceful I've come across so far. Your crew trusts you enough to hunt vampires, they'll trust you to lead them in the direction that serves their best interests."

"What's in it for me?" Jason wasn't seriously considering this ludicrous offer but he was interested in what the guy had. Leo smirked a little. "The mark of a true survivor. What's in it for you? Food, shelter, stability, power."

"What makes you think I'd even consider this?"

"You strike me as rather fearless, Mr. Lock." Jason met Leo's probing look with a challenging one. "What have I got to lose? I think I'm done here."

"We're not all evil, and even if we were…have you ever heard the saying 'better the devil you know'?" Jason paused with one foot out the door to look back. He had never heard the saying before but he had to admit it made a bit of sense. Leo took his hesitation for granted and pulled a card out of his pocket. "The offer's good for twenty-four hours. You can find me there." Jason said nothing but took the card with the address and disappeared into the shadows as quickly as he could.

Back at camp he got an even bigger surprise: mutiny. "What's going on?" he asked when he noticed that none of the group would meet his eyes and Moira had separated herself from them except to shoot glares their way. Calvin came forward reluctantly. "Nobody wants to hunt anymore after what happened." Jason wasn't surprised or particularly concerned. "Whatever, it's your choice." But apparently that wasn't all because Calvin suddenly looked guilty and lowered his voice so only Jason could hear. "Everyone's afraid that you'll get followed back here by some vampires or something. I don't think you will, but they all out-voted me." Jason narrowed his dark eyes; he had a feeling he knew what Calvin was trying to avoid saying, but he wanted to hear it out loud. "What are you saying?" He demanded, causing Calvin to look down at his feet and Moira to jump to hers. "They're kicking you out," she said indignantly. Jason was silent for a minute, taking the time to look into the faces of every member of the group, before addressing them coldly. "You can really only trust yourself."

When he'd collected his things and left the house they'd been staying in without a word to anyone, he was greatly surprised to see Moira on the porch with her own bag. "What are you doing?" he demanded somewhat angrily; she shouldered her bag and stood next to him. "I'm going with you."

"Why?"

"Because I trust you more than them." She said simply and then asked what the plan was. Jason thought about what he'd said to the others inside, about what Moira had just told him, and what Leo had proposed in the limo. He fingered the card in his pocket and made the decision that would change his life. "We're going here," he said and held up the card. Moira looked nonplussed. "What's there?"

"The devil I know."