A/N: Here's a nice big chappie to tide you all over for the weekend. Thanks for all the reviews thus far. Have a Happy Easter! :-)

(Note: Some dialog taken directly from the episode.)

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its characters are the property of Joss Whedon.

The future is but a question mark

Hangs above my head there in the dark

Can't see for the brightness

Is staring me blind

God bid yesterday goodbye

Bring on the night

I couldn't spend another hour of daylight

Bring on the night

I couldn't stand another hour of daylight

-The Police, "Bring On the Night"

Buffy wanted to storm out of the house, track Spike through the Claim, and butcher every one of those eyeless monsters that had dared lay a finger on him. When Spike's pain seared through the link, it was all Buffy could do not to scream. She looked almost catatonic as she sat in Dawn's beanbag chair, curled up into a tight ball. Rage and anguish roiled in her. If she moved, even a little bit, she knew the others wouldn't be able to stop her from rushing to the vampire's rescue, and most likely getting herself killed in the process.

The others tried to draw her out, at first. But then Tara interceded. "Just give her some space," the witch cautioned in her gentle voice, "Sh-She'll get through this, but she needs time."

Reluctantly, the others backed off. They focused their energies on trying to research the First, except for Xander, who was once again clearing up the shattered glass from the recently replaced windows. "It's a loop," he groused, "Like the mummy hand. I'm doomed to replace these windows for all eternity. Maybe we should just board these things up until things are a little less Hellmouthy."

Anya started tossing aside books she'd read through. "Nothing. And nothing. Cliff Notes to nothing. Nothing abridged."

"Yeah, my search isn't turning anything up, either," Willow said, staring at her laptop in disappointment, "Are you sure Buffy said this thing called itself the First?"

"It claimed to be the original evil, the one that came before anything else," Buffy's raw voice startled them; it was the first time she'd said anything since the attack.

Instead of reacting to this as if it were some kind of miracle, Anya merely snorted at Buffy's statement, "Please. How many times have I heard that line in my demon days? 'I'm so rotten they don't even have a word for it. I'm bad. Baddie, bad, bad, bad. Does it make you horny?'" At the others' incredulous looks, she quickly added, "Or terrified. Whatever."

Buffy slowly uncurled her body, sitting up a little straighter, though her gaze remained faraway. "It wasn't a line. When I came up against this thing, I felt it. It was...ancient and enormous. It nearly got Angel to kill himself. And if we don't rescue Spike soon," she faltered, swallowed, "god only knows what the First will do to him."

Xander glanced at Andrew, tied in a chair and unconscious since Buffy had used him as a human bludgeon against the Bringers. "I wish Sleeping Ugly would come to. He's been out all night."

"He was just starting to squeal with the spooky SWAT attacked," Anya sighed in annoyance, "Said the First was at the Seal of Danzar-something."

Dawn got up from the couch and approached the unconscious man. "Maybe he's just faking so he doesn't have to answer any more questions." Her fist lashed out, knocked his head to the side. Getting no reaction, she speculated, "Or maybe he's in a fugue state."

She was about to hit him again when Tara interjected, "Dawn. He'll come to when he comes to. Keep reading." Tara looked towards Buffy. "If we're gonna help Buffy rescue Spike, w-we need to figure out how to fight this thing."

The sulking teen returned to her seat and picked up a book. "Anya gets to hit him," she grumbled.

Buffy let her eyes fall shut for a moment. Her throat was raw with suppressed emotion. She swallowed against the pain.

"Here."

She opened her eyes, saw a glass of water in front of her. She accepted the glass and took a sip from it. The water was cool and soothing. "Thanks."

"No problem. Only wish it could've been the real thing."

Buffy's head jerked towards the unfamiliar voice and her eyes widened at the sight of a young girl crouched beside her, green eyes twinkling with amusement and sympathy.

"Who—Who are you?"

The girl smiled. "Just a friendly observer."

Buffy noticed that the others weren't reacting to this stranger's presence. It was like they didn't see her. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You're the First."

"Well," she shrugged, "I'm a First."

"There's more than one?"

"Sure! But I'm not the one you gotta worry about."

The girl placed a hand on Buffy's knee. Strangely, she didn't feel any urge to recoil from the unexpected contact. She looked at the girl's warm smile and felt some of the tension in her chest ease.

"You're doing the right thing," the girl said, "Things are gonna be dangerous enough without you running blindly into the lion's den." Her expression sobered. "It's gonna get worse before it gets better. I'm sorry. I don't wanna scare you, but I want you to take care. You need to wake up."

Buffy frowned in confusion. "What?"

"You're dreaming," Xander's voice cut in, "Buff, wake up."

Buffy jolted awake, blinking away the cobwebs. "Didja see it?" she slurred.

"There's nothing to see," Xander told her, "You were just doin' a little dream talkin', that's all." He stared at her in concern. "You okay? What'd you see?"

Buffy lowered her gaze, her thoughts swirling. "Nothing. It was nothing." She noticed a book on the coffee table and held her hand out towards it. "Hand me The Watchers Codex."

Xander passed her the book, and she began to read.

When Spike regained consciousness again, he was no longer tied to the sacrificial wheel. He was being dragged by the leg across a rough stone floor. His arms were stretched above his head, limp and weak. In the flicker of what appeared to be torchlight, he saw rough-hewn walls and a craggy ceiling. Some kind of underground cave system. When he came to a stop he managed to shakily raise his head and see what had been dragging him. It was the monster that came out of the seal; the Turok-Han. The creature hissed at him.

"Go on. Give him a kick, then," Spike's doppelganger sauntered into view, a cruel smirk on its face, "You always liked that, didn't you?"

The First morphed into the form of Drusilla. "Kick a dolly when he's down. That was always your style."

The Turok-Han raised its foot and viciously stomped on the prostrate vampire. Spike bit back a cry and curled up against the pain. He was pretty sure he'd felt a rib crack.

"Has buckets of energy, poor dear," Not-Dru said, "Been layin' in wait for his moment since before the bug walked." It leaned towards the monster and cooed, "There, there, pet. Soon as the moon comes, you'll have your carnage."

The Turok-Han let out an eager growl.

"Little girls tear so easily, like pink paper," the First grinned, "'Til then, we'll have our way with this one. Got it coming, he does."

Spike tried to brace himself, but when the next blow shattered his ribs, he couldn't hold back his cries.

Buffy was about ready to let Dawn have at him after all when Andrew finally gasped awake. He stared at her in alarm. "I...I was about to be dead. You saved me."

"For the time being," Buffy's tone was thick with menace, "But if you don't tell us what we need to know, then I'm gonna offer you to the First on a platter and let him chop you into tiny pieces."

"The first what?"

"The name of the evil thing that pretended to be Warren to get you to kill Jonathan," Anya explained with her usual straightforwardness.

"Oh..."

"Where's the seal?" Buffy demanded.

Andrew insisted that he couldn't just give them directions; he had to show them where the seal was. Buffy was more than a little suspicious, but as she, Dawn, Xander, and Andrew wended their way through the maze-like corridors of the school basement, she realized their prisoner might have had a point.

"It's around this corner, I think," Andrew stated for the dozenth time.

"You better be right this time," Buffy warned.

Andrew whined, "I told you, I'm not sure."

"Maybe you should get sure," Xander snapped, "I'm sick of all the runaround with you. Whoa." Everyone froze as they came upon the bare room with its recently unearthed secret. "Check out the goat-heady badness."

Buffy's thoughts whirled; she recognized the seal from Michael Poole's book, from the collection of sketches in the back. "What's it do?" she asked their hostage.

"I don't know. Something not good. It didn't work 'cause there...wasn't enough blood," Andrew finished uncomfortably.

Dawn wandered over to a large wheel-like contraption leaning against the far wall. Dull brownish stains were coated its edges. "There's blood on this," she declared, "Lots. Looks like the First made another sacrifice."

Buffy's heart sank. She remembered the pain emanating from Spike through the link shortly after his abduction. His blood could have been used to activate the Seal of Danzalthar.

A nervous Andrew protested, "That wasn't there before. I had nothing to do with that."

"Thanks for clearing that up," Xander drawled, "'Cause otherwise, we might have thought you were up to no good here with the satanic manhole cover. You killed your best friend!"

Andrew lowered his head like a sulking child. "He's in a place of joy and peace. He told me."

Xander rolled his eyes in impatience. "No, nobody told you. You got tricked by a fake ghost."

Buffy noticed some shovels and picked one up. "We need to cover this thing up. Whatever it does, we can't leave it exposed like this."

The others grabbed up the remaining shovels and helped her scoop the surrounding dirt over the seal. Once that task was done, they headed back the way they'd come.

"So, what next?" Dawn asked quietly, walking alongside her sister, "We found the seal, but no Spike."

Buffy's lips thinned. "I don't know. The First was camped underground last time I found him, but it wasn't really—"

"Buffy?"

Both girls froze at the sudden appearance of Principal Wood carrying a shovel. Apparently, Xander and Andrew had gotten ahead of them, since they were no longer in sight. The principal seemed just as surprised to have run into them. "I thought you were, um..."

"Sick?" Dawn jumped in, referring to the excuse she'd given for Buffy's absence from work, "She was. Oh, vomiting and oozing from various places—"

"Yeah, I remember," Wood chuckled, somewhat uncomfortable, "So, please, don't go on."

Buffy was quick to explain, "Yeah, but I went to see the doctor, and I'm all better now." She frowned at the shovel in the principal's hand. "Um..."

Noticing her puzzled gaze, Wood blurted, "Oh, yeah, uh...apparently somebody left this in the courtyard, and I was just returning it."

"That's some full-service principalling," Buffy wasn't quite able to conceal her suspicion.

Wood smiled thinly. "I try. You know, if you are feeling better, I could really use you back at work."

Buffy wished she could think up a plausible excuse, but lying on the fly was never her strong suit. "Well, I-I'll be there tomorrow. No problem."

"Good." With a smile and a parting nod, Principal Wood continued on his way.

Dawn blew out the breath she'd been holding. "Whew!"

"Yeah." Buffy gazed distrustfully after the retreating principal.

The dining area was a-bustle with activity. Xander, having tied Andrew to a chair once again, came to stand beside Buffy as she observed the others. "How's it goin'?"

"Dawn's trying to find out anything she can about the Seal of Danzalthar," Buffy replied, "Willow's about to do a locator spell, see if we can find the First."

Xander looked at her in concern. "Why don't you go get some rest? You haven't slept for, like, two days."

"No. I-I couldn't sleep. Too much going on." And if she kept still for too long, her fear and anguish would overwhelm her. Spike was suffering. She felt it, even though he seemed to be blocking out most of it. Every once in a while the link would flare with his agony, and Buffy could all but hear him crying out. If she didn't keep busy, if she didn't focus on other things, she would either collapse in a pathetic, weeping heap or go rushing off to rescue him without any kind of preparation and get herself killed or taken prisoner in the process.

"It'll be okay, Buff," Xander tried to reassure her, "We've faced this kind of stuff before."

Buffy resisted the urge to snort derisively. "You didn't see the First. I did. I felt it. It was—"

An explosion sent everyone sprawling. Hurricane winds buffeted the room. Willow rose from her seat, eyes pitch black, and roared in a deep, unearthly voice, "You only make me stronger!"

Tara grabbed the ceremonial bowl that held the smoldering ingredients to the locator spell and smashed it against the wall. The howling wind abruptly died and Willow toppled onto the floor. Buffy and Xander hurried to her side. Tara gently lifted Willow's head onto her lap.

"It's still in me. I feel it," Willow sobbed.

Buffy tried to calm her, "No, it's not. It's gone. You're okay."

"I don't want to hurt anybody," the redhead whimpered, "Please, Buffy, don't let it make me."

"It won't. I promise, we won't use magic to fight this thing until we know what we're doing."

To hell with caution, Buffy decided. She would return to the old Christmas tree lot and see if she could find the entrance to the underground cavern where she'd confronted the First before.

Xander tried to be the voice of reason, "At least let me come with you."

"I'm going alone," she stated firmly.

"You said yourself, you don't know how to fight the First, or even where it is."

Buffy would not be swayed. "It's out there. It's hurting my friends. Hurting Spike. I'll find it."

She opened the front door and froze.

"Buffy."

"Giles?" Buffy gasped. The sight of the Watcher brought a deep sense of relief. She was about to embrace him when a girl suddenly barged in, carrying a backpack over her shoulder. "Nice place," the girl spoke in a thick English accent, "Bit of a mess."

A second girl entered, appraised Buffy with a jaded eye. "This is the Slayer? Huh."

A third and final girl followed. She didn't say anything, merely smiled nervously. Giles finally stepped through the door once the girls were all inside. "Sorry to barge in. I'm afraid we have a slight apocalypse."

Buffy stared at him, utterly bewildered.

The girls were Molly, Kennedy, and Annabelle.

"Potential Slayers," Giles explained, "Waiting for one to be Called. There were many more like them all over the world, but...now there's just a handful. And they're all on their way to Sunnydale."

Buffy remembered her nightmares. Now she understood what they meant. "The others were murdered."

Giles nodded, face grim. "In cold blood. As well as their Watchers. We always feared this day would come, when there'd be an attack against not just an individual Slayer, against the whole line."

That was the First's plan; to destroy the Slayer line and kill off the Watchers.

"And then Faith," Buffy said quietly, "and then me. And with all the Potentials gone and with no way of making another...it's the end. No more Slayer. Ever."

Her friends were horrified by the obvious implications.

"B-But we haven't found any information on the First," Tara said, "No documentation..."

"That's because it predates any written history," Giles retorted, "And it rarely shows its true face. The only record I know was in the Council library."

"What about the Council?" Any asked, "What do they say about this?"

If anything, Giles became even more somber. "Gone. Obliterated. They were in session and, uh, there was an explosion. It must have been an agent of the First."

Even Buffy was shaken by this. The Council gone? She'd only spoken to Quentin Travers a few hours ago. Now he was dead?

"That means all the Council records are—are destroyed?" Willow stammered, appalled.

Giles nodded to the Potential who hadn't said anything yet. "Annabelle."

The girl unzipped her backpack, extracted a thick file folder and a couple of books, and set them all on the coffee table. Willow, Tara, and Anya immediately picked these items up and began to peruse them.

"That's what's left," Giles told them, "The mystic secrets of the Watchers, and whatever I could find on the First. When I learned what was happening, I—I, um...I stole them. The knowledge contained in these files had to be protected, and there wasn't time for—for bureaucracy or debate. The Council knows no other way."

"And it cost them their lives!" Andrew dramatically cried out, startling everyone into remembering that, oh yeah, there was someone else in the room. He flushed in embarrassment at their stares. "Go on."

"Can we gag him?" Buffy asked. Xander all-too-happily leapt to his feet and grabbed a roll of duct tape. While he taped up Andrew's mouth, Buffy turned back to Giles. "But what do these records say about the First?"

"Very little," the Watcher admitted, "It can change form. And, uh, it only appears in the guise of someone who's passed away."

Surprised looks were exchanged. This had to mean the "ghosts" that visited them were actually manifestations of the First.

Giles continued, "Also, it's not corporeal. It can't touch or fight on its own. It only works through those it manipulates and its followers, the Bringers."

"Those freaks in the black robes," Kennedy clarified.

"Yeah, with the hoodies and the crazy alphabet eyes," Molly declared, "I never sawr 'em, I just..."

Annabelle finally spoke, "Shh, Molly. Mr. Giles doesn't need us prattling on."

"The First is unlike anything we've faced before," Giles cautioned, "There's evil, then there's...the thing that created evil. The source."

"And that's what this thing claims to be?" Buffy asked, doubtful.

Giles shook his head. "That's what it is. It has eternities to act, endless resources. How to defeat it... Honestly, I don't know," he removed his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly, "But we have to find a way. If the Slayer line is eliminated, then the Hellmouth has no guardian. The balance is destroyed." He put his glasses back on and turned to the petite blonde. "I'm afraid it falls to you, Buffy. Sorry. I mean, we'll do what we can, but...you're the only one who has the strength to protect these girls, and the world, against what's coming."

"But no pressure," Xander quipped.

Kennedy got to her feet. "That's it? That's the plan? I don't see how one person—even a Slayer—could protect us. I saw what those Bringer guys can do. They tore apart my Watcher."

Giles tried to calm her, "Of course, we'll use all our resources."

The girl went on as if he hadn't spoken, "And if this thing is the root of all evil, isn't the Hellmouth its number one vacation spot? I mean, don't you think we should be hiding our asses on the other side of the globe?"

"Kennedy!" Annabelle chastised.

"No," Buffy responded, "She's not wrong. We need more muscle. Which is why we need to find Spike."

"Yeah, he'll help," Anya agreed, "Y'know, if he's not crazy or off killing people or dead. Or, you know, all of the above."

"He's not being controlled anymore," Buffy stated, "I found the medallion and got it away from him right before the Bringers attacked."

Tara straightened, "Wh-Where is it?"

"In the basement somewhere, I guess," Buffy shrugged, "Kinda lost track of it."

The witch turned to her partner, "I-If we can find the medallion—"

"We can use it to track down Amy!" Willow finished eagerly, then her expression fell, "But...I can't..."

Tara placed a comforting hand on her knee, "I can do the spell."

Buffy started to fidget. She hurried to the coat rack to grab her jacket. "Okay. While you guys do that, I'm gonna go see if I can find the original chamber where I met the First. Maybe it's keeping Spike there or close by."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Giles questioned, frowning.

"Probably not." Buffy threw on her coat, reached for the door. "Wanna come?"

A smile tugged at the corner of the Watcher's mouth. He'd missed his impulsive Slayer.

Spike didn't need to breathe, he knew this. Yet in spite of his undead state, the reflex never really left him. It was especially noticeable when his emotions ran high. Gasping as he feverishly kissed Buffy. Panting after a good brawl. Breathing heavily in anger.

He knew he didn't need to breathe. But when the Turok-Han held his head under the water, every instinct in him screamed that he was drowning. He struggled against the monster's grip. Even if he hadn't been weakened by blood loss and repeated beatings, he probably wouldn't have been able to break the Turok-Han's hold. The creature was more powerful than any vamp he'd ever encountered. He couldn't fight it. All he could do was endure.

Spike's head was finally yanked out of the natural pool and he flopped onto his back. He lay still for a moment, then the choking began. Water gushed from his mouth as his lungs fought to clear themselves.

The First stood over him, still in the guise of Drusilla. Its stolen face twisted into a sadistic grin. "That's why our kind make such good dollies. Hard to kill."

It leaned over the gasping vampire, staring into his bleary eyes. "I say when this is over," it stated coldly, "And I'm not done with you, yet. Not nearly."

The First signaled the Turok-Han, and the creature hauled the peroxide blonde back to the pool for another drowning.

Giles was hard-pressed to keep up with the Slayer as she marched with determination towards the abandoned Christmas tree lot. If she broke into a run, he would lose her for sure.

"Giles," Buffy suddenly spoke, "this is bad, isn't it? A new kind of bad."

"Just in time for Christmas," he muttered sardonically.

Buffy snorted. "You know, I didn't even realize it was December. Maybe when we get home, we should decorate the rubble." She looked at the man she'd come to think of as her father-figure. "You think you'll ever show up for a real visit? The kind where the world isn't about to end."

Giles nodded, "If we survive this, I promise."

"Good. 'Cause...I miss you."

He smiled tenderly at the girl. "I miss you, too."

They arrived at the lot and began searching the bare ground.

"I'm pretty sure it was around here somewh—aah!" Buffy found herself plummeting down a hole that had been thinly covered with plywood. She landed with a hard thud at least twenty feet down. "Found it!"

Giles's alarmed face peered down at her. "Good lord! Are you alright?"

"Peachy, except my knees bend backwards now." Buffy stood with a painful grunt. She took in her surroundings, then shouted up at the Watcher, "Stay up there. I'm gonna check it out."

She focused on her connection with Spike, used it to guide her towards him. He was closer than she'd hoped. Maybe even in the very same chamber she'd been to last time. She tried to let Spike know that she was coming. Instead of the relief she'd expected from him, Spike responded with a deep sense of alarm. It was almost like he was telling her to keep away.

Something else was down here. Buffy's Slayer senses prickled with its nearness. It felt like a vampire, but different somehow. Buffy kept her eyes peeled. Movement flickered in her periphery, but every time she turned her head, it was gone.

Buffy looked over her shoulder, saw nothing once again. Then she turned her head forward again and found herself face to face with a horrific, vampire-like creature. Before she could react, a blow from it sent her careening into the opposite wall. She struggled to her feet only to find herself on the receiving end of several ferocious kicks and punches that she didn't have any chance of blocking. This things was fast, and brutal. Buffy kept retreating and this vampire-thing just kept coming. Even when she managed to get in a few lucky hits, the creature hardly reacted. Then Buffy drove her stake through its chest.

It didn't dust. Buffy gaped as the übervamp yanked the stake out, its fangs bared in a triumphant snarl. Buffy barely managed to dodge in time to avoid getting skewered with her own weapon. She tried to punch the monster in the face, but it caught her fist and damn near crushed every bone in her hand. Then it grabbed her by the throat and lifted her feet off the ground. Desperate, Buffy reached for the nearest stalagmite, broke it loose, and used it to club the creature's bulbous head. Apparently, even the übervamp wasn't tough enough to be unaffected by that kind of smack to the dome. It toppled over, releasing the Slayer in the process.

Run! Spike's panicked thought reached her. Buffy didn't hesitate to do just that; she couldn't rescue him if she was dead. She clambered up the craggy wall towards the opening she'd fallen through. The übervamp was right behind her. It grabbed her ankle at one point, but she managed to shake it loose and pulled herself the rest of the way to the surface. As she crawled away from the hole, she saw the sun begin to rise behind the silhouette of a startled Giles. There was a sizzling noise and Buffy turned her head in time to see the monster duck back into the hole, smoke billowing from its grayish skin.

Buffy wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep the day away. The übervamp—or Turok-Han, as Giles called it—was bound to show up at some point once the sun went down, and Buffy needed to be on her game. But she couldn't rest. Not yet. Not while the First still had Spike.

She justified going to work by using the computer at her desk to check the Internet for anything remotely useful about the First. Unfortunately, what little she did know about the First was too vague for the search engine to narrow down. She was lucky if she got less than 900,000 results. Buffy finally gave up.

The bell rang. Students hurried to their next class. Buffy stood in front of the sink in the restroom and splashed cold water in her face. She winced as her elbow protested and peeled back her sleeve to survey the damage. Her elbow was swollen and discolored. Buffy doubted it would be much better by nightfall, even with her Slayer healing.

A hand appeared and gently touched her injured arm. "That looks painful."

Buffy's lifted her gaze and saw the dark-haired girl from her dream. "I fell asleep again," it wasn't a question.

The girl nodded anyway. "You're running on fumes. Gonna burn out if you don't slow down."

"I can't slow down," Buffy grated, "Spike's down there going through god knows what—"

"You're angry," the girl interrupted, her smile sympathetic, "And desperate. It's making you sloppy, and that's what the First wants. It can't kill you yet, so it's gonna try everything it can to break you."

Buffy's chin trembled. "By breaking Spike."

The girl leaned closer, speaking earnestly, "It's using the Claim against you. It thinks Spike is your weakness. It doesn't understand that he's really your strength, and you're his. Neither one of you will break, 'cause you're never really apart. You can lean on each other, even now."

Buffy hugged herself. "I have to save him," her voice was small.

"But that's not all you have to do," the girl countered.

Buffy closed her eyes. "The Potentials."

"They need protecting." The girl squeezed her shoulder. "And you can't protect them and rescue Spike at the same time. You gotta decide which to focus on. But Spike is strong enough to wait. Those Potentials are way too vulnerable right now."

Buffy opened her eyes and stared at the girl. "Who are you? Why are you telling me these things?"

"Told you," the girl smiled, "I'm one of the First. You already know my evil twin." She winked.

"So, what, you're the First Good?"

"If you like. I was never big on titles."

"What if I decide to go after Spike, and to hell with the Potentials?" Buffy challenged.

"That's your choice," the girl answered calmly, "I can't stop you. You know the right thing to do. And you always try to do what's right, even if it hur—"

Buffy jerked awake at the sound of the bell. She was slumped at her desk, clothes rumpled from her impromptu nap. Surreptitiously checking for drool, Buffy looked up to discover a bored-looking teen slouched at the other side of her desk. Oh, crap.

"Uh, sorry," she mumbled, "Wh-What were we talking about?"

"Only my life," was the teen's sarcastic response.

Buffy suppressed a groan.

"Think of it as a game," Not-Dru said, "A fun funny game. Without all the rules, or any of the bothersome winning part. But still, there are sides."

Spike glared at the apparition with his remaining functional eye. His left eye was swollen shut, his lips split in more than one place, cuts and gashes marred his skin. He was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, too weak to do anything but sit there and glower defiantly.

"You have to choose a side, Spike," the First continued, "Then we can fly, be free and visit all out friends as they come squirming up from out the earth. I know you like a good wriggle. And a giggle. And a squiggle." She swayed and twisted her body in a sensual dance, grinning maniacally.

"You're not Drusilla," Spike rasped.

The First laughed, "No. I'm really not."

"She was crazier than you."

Not-Dru feigned hurt at his words. "Daddy, no kicking. It's almost Christmas Day today, and you've gone spoiling it. I've been so very good all year." She leaned towards him and growled, "But I could be bad, if you like."

Spike hadn't heard the Turok-Han approach, so the blow to his face caught him off-guard. Spike panted, his useless lungs reacting to his rage.

"Bad Daddy. Needs a caning. Never learned his headmaster's lesson while all of the school bells ring and ring and ring..."

The Turok-Han backhanded Spike, then punched the other side of his face.

"Choose a side," the First cooed, "Choose our side. You know that it's delicious. What do you say?"

Spike squinted up at it. "Dru, luv...get bent."

For a moment, the mask slipped, and the First's anger shone through. "Stupid, stubborn Daddy."

More blows rained down on the helpless vampire, one after the other, without pause. And all during the beating, the fake Drusilla danced.

Everyone was readying for the coming night. Xander boarded up the broken windows. The others readied the weapons.

"Hey, are we getting weapons?" Kennedy asked (or rather, demanded).

"We'll be armed when the Slayer feels we're ready," Annabelle stated primly.

"I feel ready," Molly declared, sounding very much like an uncertain child about to get the training wheels off.

"You're frightened," Annabelle countered, "You must learn to control your fear."

"You know what would help with that?" Kennedy turned to Buffy, "Weapons."

Buffy wasn't entirely sure it was a good idea, but the Potentials were trained. And if the Bringers came, or the übervamp, they'd need every fighter they could get.

Confidence was low. Not just among the newcomers, but the Scoobies as well. Buffy saw it. Hell, she felt the same way. Her brief encounter with the übervamp left her uncertain that she could beat this thing.

Giles approached her as she stared out of one of the upstairs windows at the sunset.

"We've done everything we can," he told her, "And don't worry. Everyone here understands that you're calling the shots."

Buffy mustered a weak smile. "I just hope I'm calling the right ones."

Giles gently responded, "You have all my faith. And they're depending on you."

Buffy winced, "Giles, that's not exactly what I needed to hear right now."

"Guys!" Molly ran up to them, "Annabelle split."

Funny how the most steadfast of the girls was the first one to crack. Annabelle hadn't even taken any weapons with her. She just ran off in a panic.

Buffy refused to let anyone accompany her when she left to track the wayward Potential down. It didn't take long to find the girl. Her crumpled form lay in the middle of the street, next to an industrial site, neck snapped and blood drained. Buffy gazed down at the body in remorse when a sudden blow to her back sent her sprawling. She scrambled to her feet and turned to confront her attacker. It was the übervamp.

She couldn't help it; she was afraid. This thing was faster and stronger than anything she'd ever dealt with one-on-one. When they fought, it was all she could do just to avoid its worst blows. She didn't have a chance to retaliate. So she ran, or tried to. She was limping from a particularly sharp blow to her knee and the übervamp easily chased her down. It struck her again and again, its fists like sledgehammers. She felt her ribs shatter from the abuse, her flesh tear and swell. Towards the end, she was sure that she was going to die.

The last thing the übervamp did was throw her through a wall. Steel girders and heavy masonry rained down on her. That was the last thing she remembered.

Spike felt it all, every hit Buffy suffered, her terror and pain. The only thing that kept him from breaking down was the knowledge that it was just what Not-Dru wanted. The bitch.

"Do you know why you're alive?" the apparition asked.

Spike somehow found it in him to be flippant, "Never figured you for...existential thought, luv," he wheezed through shattered ribs, "I mean, you hated Paris."

"You're alive for one reason, and one reason only. Because I wish it. Do you know why I wish it?" she smiled cruelly, "Because I'm not done with you."

"Give it up," Spike snarled, "Whatever you are, whatever you get away with, I'm out. You can't pull this puppet's strings anymore."

"And what makes you think you have a choice?" the First spat, "What makes you think you will ever be any good at all in this world?"

The vampire was almost serene as he answered, "She does."

The others found her half-dead and buried in the rubble. They were horrified by her condition; they'd never seen her so badly beaten.

She woke as they were carrying her home.

"We'll put her in my car," Xander's blurry voice reached her ears, "Get her to the hospital."

"No..." she forced through swollen lips, "No...hospital."

Her friends tried to argue, but she was adamant. They finally gave in and took her into the house to patch her up as best they could. Dawn wept at the sight of her and had to leave the room. Even the normally steadfast Giles was deeply shaken.

The physical pain was nothing. For Buffy, the real damage went much deeper. Hope was gone. She knew with complete certainty that she couldn't win. There was no bouncing back from this.

Buffy was curled up in her bed, staring at nothing. In spite of the distance to the living room, her Slayer hearing picked up the conversation downstairs.

"Giles, she looks bad," Willow's troubled voice reached her.

"She does," the Watcher responded, "I'm afraid there may be internal bleeding."

Alarmed, Willow asked, "What does that mean? Will she—"

"Die? No, I don't think so," Giles sounded less than certain, "I...I don't know."

"Well, what do we do if she can't fight? If she can't beat this thing?"

I can't do this alone, Buffy despaired.

But she wasn't alone. A sensation washed over her like an embrace, gentle yet overwhelming. Buffy didn't fight it. She let all the barriers down, let everything that was her merge with everything that was Spike. Before now, they'd only experienced this depth of connection when they made love. She didn't just feel him, she was him, and he was her. She knew his love, his faith in her, his unwavering certainty that she would not let this defeat break her. She drew from his strength, and gave hers in return.

I'm with you, Buffy promised him, I love you. I will come for you.

He had no doubts.

"We're back at square one," Giles declared.

"Which square would that be, exactly?" Xander asked.

"I'm not sure," Giles sighed, "The First predates everything we've ever known. Or can know. It's everywhere. It's pure. I don't know if we can fight it."

"You're right."

All eyes went to Buffy as she limped into the room, her battered face eerily calm. "We don't know how to fight it. We don't know when it'll come. We can't run. Can't hide. Can't pretend it's not the end, 'cause it is. Something's always been there to try and destroy the world. We've beaten them back. But we're not dealing with them anymore. We're dealing with the reason they exist. Evil. The strongest. The First."

Giles looked at her in worry. "Buffy...I know you're very tired."

"I'm beyond tired," Buffy told him, "I'm beyond scared. I'm standing on the mouth of Hell, and it's gonna swallow me whole. And it'll choke on me." Her gaze was steady as she looked on her astonished audience. "We're not ready? They're not ready. They think we're gonna wait for the end to come like we always do. I'm done waiting. They want an apocalypse? Well, we'll give 'em one. Anyone else who wants to run, do it now. 'Cause we just became an army. We just declared war. From now on, we won't just face our worst fears, we will seek them out. We will find them and cut out their hearts, one by one, until the First shows itself for what it really is. And I'll kill it myself. There is only one thing on this earth more powerful than evil. And that's us." Her voice, though quiet, rang with absolute certainty. "Any questions?"