To the Power Born: A Tale of the Slayers

Part 31: Hope Springs Eternal

At least I wasn't the only one who was paralyzed by that blue light, or whatever was behind it. I could see a lot of people around the fringes of my vision, and a few demons, no one else was moving— and I discovered that I could move my eyes. In fact, I had no trouble breathing, so it wasn't total paralysis, okay. Still— not good, not now, not without a reason.

Then I got my explanation— and saw one of those things that leave you going "wow!"

The light, which had seemed to be coming from— well, from everywhere at once, coalesced into a single beam that came down from the sky. It focused on the poor, dying kid who'd helped me. He looked up into it, not even squinting at the brightness— and he smiled, a sweet, wonder-filled smile that made him look younger by taking all traces of pain from his face.

"Ian Isaac Matthias," said a voice that came from the light, a voice both male and female at the same time, and soft, yet filled with raw power. "You have, in your sixteen years, borne much pain— yet you have never lost your ability to hope, to care. That makes you something special, Ian Matthias… and we would not see that gift wasted.

"You have shown that even in the extremes of approaching death, of pain that would leave many incapable of more than screaming, you will not relinquish either hope or compassion— or your desire to help. For this… you have earned our regard."

"Who are you?" the boy— Ian— asked. "Are you…." He trailed off, looked sideways at me, then over at something I couldn't see, but assumed was Vi and Piper. "Are you the Powers That Be?"

"We are a part of those Powers," the voice said. "We are Hope.

"As we who are called the Powers That Be have those who champion us all— such as the Slayers who fight around you— we also have those who act as Champions for our individual aspects.

"Would you take your rightful place as Hope's Champion? Would you place your fate in the hands of Hope, with no more explanation than that you are needed?"

"Yes." No hesitation, no thought, just a soft, steady voice and that one word.

"Then you will stand for Hope. Let it be so!"

I caught the emphasis on the word stand, but I didn't get it, not right then— I'm really, really slow, sometimes.

Ian closed his eyes, a little smile on his face— and suddenly his injuries ran backwards. His intestines coiled themselves back into his stomach, the blood and other, less pleasant fluids ran back in with them, his stomach knitted itself, the cuts and almost-black bruises where the demon had grabbed his neck faded away to nothing. Ian lifted into the air, maybe six or seven feet, and that pretty blue light ran into him, drew lines all over his body, lines that glowed from inside, showed even under his clothes. I could see that there was a definite pattern to those lines, and that it centered on Ian's heart— but nothing more than that.

Then Ian Matthias drifted to the ground, landed on his feet— and stood there, blinking, as the blue light faded away. He looked down at himself, stared agog at himself and said in this tiny, amazed voice that sounded thick with tears, "I'm… standing. I… I can walk!"

Then motion came back into the world, and the battle picked up right where it had left off.

Two demons were charging at either me or Ian, and if it was me, they'd have to go over or through him to get to me.

"Behind you!" I said, leaping his way. I landed beside him, and saw that the lines of light still showed on his body, though they seemed to have dimmed enough that I couldn't see them through his jeans, at least. Then a crystal-demon was on us, and I didn't have time to look anymore.

I bounced into the ginga, spun a powerful kick into the demon's rock-hard stomach, and managed to stop its approach, even stagger it back a little. Even as I did so, the jaguar-demon with it leaped at Ian.

Ian yelped in surprise and fear and jumped sideways. He almost got clear of the demon, but only almost. It caught hold of Ian's left wrist with it's right paw-hand— but screamed and let go as the lines of blue light in Ian's hand lit up more brightly, burning the thing. I saw him grin and tackle the demon— then had to worry about my own target, which had started back towards me.

*Jocelyn, catch, high and right!* Ripley said in my head, and I dropped my short sword from my right hand, snatched it out of the air with my left even as I flung my right hand up and out. A metal handle slapped into my hand, and I knew from the weight and balance that I'd just been thrown a mace. I shifted my hand lower on the handle (I'd caught it midway between the head and the base of the handle), leapt in close to the crystal demon, and smashed its head to tiny pieces. The rest of it followed in a shattering that started slowly, but accelerated fast.

I spun, saw that Ian's tackled demon had actually caught on fire (though the flames didn't seem to bother Ian at all), and that it had stopped fighting, was all but dead. Ian got up, looked around, and said, "I really don't know much about fighting— what do I do now?"

"Follow me, tackle any of the jaguar-things you can," I said, moving into the crowd. "Don't try the crystalline ones, they're sharp-edged."

"Yes, Miss Penobscot," Ian said, and fell in step behind me.

I spent a few seconds wondering how he knew who I was, then remembered the combination of Aunt Rose's book and the pre-Activation Day commercials I'd done the last three years or so. "Just Jocelyn, please," I said over my shoulder. "We're on the same team, after all!"

"All right, th—duck!"

I went to the ground in a roll, felt-saw the jaguar demon that had been jumping at me pass through the space I'd occupied a microsecond before, came up in the ginga— and watched as Ian simply jumped on the thing's back and clung, burning it with the lines from the Power Hope.

Before I could get a shot to kill it, Aunt Elaine came flipping through the space next to me, a crystal-demon chasing her, and Aunt Rose, armed with a metal-capped staff, chasing the demon. As the demon went past me, focused on Aunt Elaine, I smashed its leg with the mace. It fell, rolled a few feet— and Aunt Rose landed on it staff-first, from a Slayer-powered leap that had taken her ten or twelve feet in the air. The metal cap of her staff hit square between its shoulder blades— and the whole thing shattered.

"Thanks, Jocelyn," Aunt Rose said, bouncing to a stop beside me and looking at the pile of burning jaguar-demon that Ian was standing up from. "Only a couple left, come on, both of you!"

Ian and I followed Aunt Rose and Aunt Elaine into the thick of things, killed a couple more demons as a team (Ian made a great distraction— he touched demon, demon burned, demon forgot about the three Slayers who wanted it dead, demon died) and saw a thing you'd never expect to see; a werewolf fighting back-to-back with a Slayer.

Buffy and the good-guy werewolf I was almost certain was the Sunnydale Five's old friend Oz stood back-to-back in a circle of three crystal demons and one jaguar-demon, pivoting and striking, pivoting again. Then Vi and Piper hit one of the crystal ones from behind, and Aunt Rose and Aunt Elaine went after another. Buffy yelled, "Switch!" and spun away from the jaguar-demon, leaving it facing the claws and teeth of a not-happy werewolf. She lit into the crystal demon with a metal police baton in each hand, and shortly, without having to worry about more than one target, she made crystal chips.

A second or two later, there was nothing left to fight— after the werewolf tore the head off of the jaguar-demon. Literally.

For a second, they stood there panting, then Willow dropped out of the sky in front of the werewolf even as Colin dropped next to me.

Willow didn't say a word, just looked at the half-form werewolf with wide, astonished, hopeful eyes. For a moment, the werewolf looked back, then he looked down and visibly decided that there was enough left of his badly tattered clothes for modesty's sake— and the change reversed, hair pulled into his skin, muscles shrank to normal, good-muscle-tone human, the muzzle pulled in… and there stood the guitarist.

"Oz," Willow breathed softly. "It's really you."

Before he could say a word, Willow jumped forward and hugged him super-hard, and he gave back as good as he got. Both of them looked happy as all get out while they hugged, and Willow was leaking happy tears.

They pulled back a little, and Oz reached up, hooked a strand of Willow's hair on a finger and pulled it to hang between them.

"At least it's not blue," he said, a little smile on his face.

"Well, this isn't Istanbul, either," Willow said— and they hugged again, just as tightly as before.

"Guess this shoots down my plan to surprise you tomorrow by showing up on your doorstep," Oz said. He looked around at the mess around us, said, "Kind of necessary, though. I'm just glad there were Slayers in attendance."

"I'm glad you were here," I said. "I saw you save that clump of girls from a jaguar-thing, and I'll bet you did a lot more."

"Well, I tried," Oz said. He looked me in the eyes and said, "Thanks. For giving me the all clear with your team, I mean."

"I was half-sure of who you were even before things went nuts," I said, grinning. "I mean— 'our own Wizard of Oz,' and having seen your pic in old yearbooks of Buffy, Xander and Willow's, that was a pretty strong indicator. Then I saw a controlled, partial change, and I knew. Or so close to knew that I might as well have known, and I did know you were on our side."

" 'Of Buffy's,' not 'of mom's' that shoots down that idea, I guess," Oz said. "Kind thought you might be Joyce. Or is Joyce not a Slayer?"

"She's a Slayer," Buffy said, "but only very recently. Not up for field work yet, and we have problems, so she's at home where it's safe. And where's my hug, buster?"

While Oz hugged Buffy, I looked around, got a head count. Piper and Vi had moved around to join Colin and I, and Uncle Ballard had joined Aunt Rose and Aunt Elaine, and I could see Aunt Dawn and Aunt Sh'rin moving off towards a screaming person. Vincent and Lydia came trotting over, and Vincent started off after aunts Dawn and Sh'rin, since he's a trained combat medic. Vi followed him, and I decided I should, too. I'm decent with the first aid, and I'm a type AB positive, rare enough that it's useful for transfusions, if they're needed.

"I'm going to help with the clean up," I said, and started off after Vincent and Vi.

Pretty soon, we were all working on it, helping as best we could. I could handle simple wounds, cuts and scratches, and stop bleeding on most anything (Slayer-strength is great for direct-pressure stoppage of blood loss), and Vincent and Vi could do triage for Aunt Dawn and Aunt Sh'rin, as well as for the paramedics who arrived very shortly after we started.

Ian could help, too. It may not have looked like a big deal, what he did, but I know he saved one life, and would bet on others, by calming terrified, in-massive-pain people down, which he seemed to be able to do with just a touch— or maybe it was the whispered, "Ssh, let them help you," I didn't know. But every time, no matter what their injury, or how scared they were, the people he touched and spoke to calmed down instantly— and the caregivers had a much easier time of helping them.

I looked him over once things were under control, decided that he was a nice looking guy. No Colin, but nice looking. Five-seven or so, about a hundred and fifty pounds. Slightly long brown hair that needed cutting or to grow some more, a slightly narrow face, but not badly so, eyes a darker brown than his hair, a decent tan. The lines of light in his skin faded after he did his last calm-the-person-down thing, but you could still see the muscle in his torso and arms— and it looked like the Power Hope had given him legs to match, they had the same proportions of muscle and tone as Ian's upper body.

Once the last person had been helped to calm down, Ian stood up and started looking around, obviously looking for someone. He wandered off, and I followed him after telling Colin where I was going.

He found the person he was looking for— in the lined up bodies of the dead. I saw his eyes go wide and hurt as he looked fearfully at the line of thirteen corpses laid out for the ambulances to take away, and he dropped to his knees next to a forty-something guy, said, "Oh, Dave, no," and started crying.

I went over, knelt beside him and put an arm across his shoulders. After a moment, Ian turned to me, hugged me, and I hugged back.

"Was he your brother?" I asked.

"N-no," Ian sobbed. "Well, sort of. Big Brother like in the program, you know? He was my friend. He… he'd come and take me places, movies, ball games, hockey games, things like this. I don't— I'm an orphan."

"Shit, I'm sorry," I said, and hugged harder for a few seconds. "Look, is there someone we should call, or…?"

"I— yes, I suppose so," Ian said. He straightened up, looked me in the eyes, actually managed a smile, and said, "Thank you.

"I should call the nursing home. Although— I guess I don't need them anymore, I— oh, man, this is so freaking nuts! Good-nuts, sure, but— I have no idea what to do now, or where I'm gonna go."

"Nursing home?" I said, confused.

"Yeah, I need— needed!— special care I couldn't get in a foster home or anything, so… state-run nursing home over in Peoria." He shuddered— then smiled a little. "Okay that's gonna be done with.

"Jocelyn— what do I do? How do I learn to… to use this stuff? Learn everything I can do? Learn to fight?"

"I have ideas," I said. I looked around, spotted a cop who was standing nearby, watching us. "I think you should go talk to the policeman over there— I'll bet he needs to know more about your friend than he could get from a wallet, you know? And I need to make a call."

Only I didn't need to do that. I started to walk off a little way to use my cell phone, and I saw Giles and Kelly standing and talking to a detective out at the edge of the crowd, so I went that way. I waited until the conversation seemed ended to the detective's grudging satisfaction, then said, "Giles? Can I talk to you a minute?"

"Of course, Jocelyn," Giles said, and reached out to pull me into a hug. "Very well done this evening, young lady— especially recognizing that Oz was, if not the old friend he turned out to be, on the side of the angels."

"Thanks," I said, and grinned as Kelly hugged me when Giles let go. "Listen, have you heard anything about our other new good guy yet?"

"Buffy did say that one of the Powers had made a Champion out of a young man," Giles said, taking off his glasses and cleaning them. He set them back on his face and said, "Can you tell me a bit more, Jocelyn?"

I did. I told him and Kelly all of it, from the moment Ian screamed when the demon grabbed him up to what he'd told me just before I found Giles and Kelly.

Giles did what Giles does. The Guardians of Sh'rin's time called him 'the Father,' and they sure as hell knew what they were talking about. I didn't even get to hint at anything.

"Can you take us to young Mr. Matthias, please, Jocelyn?" Giles asked.

I looked around, didn't see him where he'd been talking to the cop, and looked sideways at Ripley, who sat balancing neatly on my shoulder. "Could you find Ian for me, please, Ripley? You can get above the crowd, I can't."

*Okey-dokey,* Ripley said, and nuzzled my cheek before launching herself into the air and starting a spiral flight pattern over the crowd. A moment later, she sent, *Ian here— at stage corner near food place.*

The three of us went around the still-milling crowd rather than through, lots faster that way. Soon we found Ian standing at one corner of the stage, looking a little lost and sort of worried, but not panicked or scared. When he saw us coming, he smiled— then went wide-eyed, apparently recognizing Giles (from one of the TV interviews he'd given, maybe, or the Team Slayer website).

"Ian Matthias, Champion of the Power Hope," I said, stopping beside him, "this is Rupert Giles, head of the Watchers' Council, and his wife, Kelly, who is in charge of the actual not-Slayer part of the education program for the Council.

"Giles, Kelly, this is Ian— who saved my life when he should have been in too much pain to do more than scream, and has done about a metric ton of good since then."

"Wow," Ian said, and shook Giles's offered hand, then Kelly's. "Oh, wow— it's an honor, Mr. and Mrs. Giles."

"Just Giles, please, and I know my wife prefers Kelly," Giles said. He looked Ian over and said, "Let me assure you, Ian, the honor is shared. Jocelyn told us what happened here tonight, what you did, what the Power of Hope said to you— and all that you've done since. Judging by your actions both before and after your transformation… I believe that the choice was well-made."

"I hope so," Ian said— then looked startled at his own inadvertent pun. He shook his head, laughed a little and said, "I just have to figure out what comes next. I have a little idea about what I can do, but just a little one, and I'm gonna need to learn about nine million things. And I guess it's foster care for me, which beats the damned nursing home, at least. I have to find a phone, call the home, and—"

"Ian," Giles said softly, "has it not occurred to you that you are talking to people who could very probably help you with those things that you need to learn?"

Ian's shocked gawp answered better than words ever could have, and I giggled.

"You… you'd help? Train me? Just like that?" Ian looked shocked, hopeful, and almost painfully eager. "Really, just like that?"

"You saved the life of my goddaughter, Ian, when you had to be in hideous pain," Giles said. "You then helped save a great many lives after, even though you had no clear idea of what you could do yet. You are certainly on our side— and can almost certainly help us as we can help you.

"Not only can I help with your training, but I may well be able to help with something else. Would you all excuse me for a moment?"

Giles walked away several yards, flipped open his cell phone and started making calls. Ian looked back and forth from me to Kelly— then pinched himself.

"Ow, okay, I'm not dreaming," Ian said. "This is— damn!"

"I sympathize," I said. I looked at Kelly and saw her looking smug, guessed what Giles was doing, and decided he had to have an extra-squeezy hug later. Then I settled in to wait, leaning on Kelly and slipping an arm around her.

While Giles talked, Ian got introduced to Ripley and to Kelly's friend Titania, both of whom liked him a lot. When asked, he said he'd never been around baby pseudo dragons, barely around pseudo dragons at all— and I anticipated him having a companion before a month was out. After all, we had six unattached babies now, Buffy's companion Pointy had laid eggs Thursday, and Kelly told me that Gwen's pal Moonlight had laid eggs that evening, not long after we younger people had left. Since both clutches of eggs were the standard six, that gave Ian eighteen shots at the brass ring— and the way Ripley and Titania both took to him immediately said his chances were very good.

When Giles came back over, his pseudo dragon added his stamp of approval by flapping over to drop on Ian's shoulder and lean around to grin at the kid.

"The pseudo dragons like you, very good," Giles said. "Ian… I have a proposal for you."

"Yes, sir?" Ian said, meeting Giles's eyes.

"It occurs to me that it may take some time to discover all of your abilities, help you learn to control them, and give you the skills needed to act as Champion for the Power Hope," Giles said. "Given that you had been residing in a nursing home, and had been in need of special care, I thought it might be rather easy to bypass the system, and I was right.

"Ian, would you care to stay with us? In the long term, as it were? You would have your own room, and—"

Ian's eyes had been widening since Giles asked if he wanted to stay with Team Slayer, and now he almost shouted, "Yes! Yes, please, sir!"

"Just Giles, please, Ian," he said. He smiled a little, and said, "Well, once things are settled here, we'll take you home with us and tomorrow, we can take you to Peoria to get your things. I'll have the necessary paperwork by then, so that won't be a problem."

"But— but it's Saturday night!" Ian said. He looked puzzled, shocked and excited all at once. "How could you do that so fast on a Saturday night!?"

"You seem to be aware of who we are and what we do, Ian," Giles said, looking a little smug and sort of teacher-ish at the same time. "Do you follow our actions in the news?"

"Yes, s—Giles, I do," Ian said. "I always have, long as I can remember, you guys are the coolest."

"Thank you. Then perhaps you are aware of our actions when the Illinois Executive Mansion was invaded by Joraphannus demons last fall?" Giles looked very, very smug. "After we saved her life and the lives of her family, Governor Knowles told me that she would do all she could to help us in any way that she could. I have not abused that offer, so when I called her a few moments ago, asked her about obtaining custody of a young man with no family or foster family, she was quite willing to make the necessary calls to make it happen. All of the adults at the Council Seat are registered as approved foster parents, for those instances when we discover a Slayer without family, so that raises no difficulty.

"For the moment, you will be staying with Jocelyn's family, as our house is rather full, but if you like, you can move in with Kelly and I after Buffy's family's house is finished.

"Does this plan suit you, Ian?"

"Yes!" Ian said. "Yes, thank you!"

Giles is a bit reserved— probably his British upbringing— so he just shook Ian's hand in welcome, but Kelly hugged him all-out, and I could see tears in the boy's eyes. When Kelly let go, I hugged him myself and said, "Welcome to Team Slayer, Ian. And to my house, I guess. I warn you, the older of my little sisters is psychic, and my little brother is a disaster looking for a place to happen. Also, I have a puppy who's part moose, and if you let him on your bed now, you may regret it later, because he'll be big enough to push you out."

Ian laughed, wiped his face, and followed us all to the place where the rest of the Team Slayer people were gathering, getting ready to leave. As we approached, I saw Oz coming out of an RV parked behind the stage the bands had played on. He had on clean, not-shredded clothes, had a deep, dark silver pseudo dragon around his neck— and his arm around a woman who was carrying a sleeping child of two or three years. I saw Willow's eyes go wide… but not sad. Not even jealous, just surprised, and maybe a little melancholy, but just a little.

He joined us by the edge of the parking lot, and called, "Hey, everybody, I'd like you all to meet my wife, my kid, and my cure for lycanthropy."

He tugged the woman forward by the hand, and I got a good look at her. She was one of those women who'd never be gorgeous, but was painfully cute. Small, petite even, with a round, lightly freckled face, a small mouth, and blond hair that she wore short, in a style that framed her face nicely. The baby— a girl, she had on a dress— had her father's red hair and her mother's hazel eyes, and looked around at all these strange people with interest. As they stopped, a second pseudo dragon, so light a red that it was almost (but not quite) pink, landed on the woman's shoulder.

"This is my wife, Angela Dean-Osborne," Oz said, smiling and kissing her temple. He leaned over and pecked the little girl on the lips and added, "And this is our little girl, Jenny." He reached up and stroked the dragon on his shoulder and said, "And this is my best bud, and the last part of my cure for lycanthropy. His name is Prozac."

We all got a laugh at that, and Willow introduced everyone, finishing with, "There are a lot more of us at home, and of course, Xander's there, and— you are coming over, right?"

"That's the plan," Oz said. "Buffy invited us. She didn't tell you?"

Buffy tried to hide behind Vincent, but he stepped aside as Willow turned to glare at her best friend. "No, she didn't," Wil said. "I'll turn her into a toad for that. Later."

Buffy stuck her tongue out at Willow— then hid behind Giles.

"Okay, we've got vans coming— I think there's enough room for everyone, and I hate to fly in public if there's not, you know, an emergency," Willow said. "Your band know you're going to be with us?"

"Yeah, I told them," Oz said. "It's cool, they're all taking off for the week on vacation."

About that time, Dad, Ballard and Xander pulled up in vans, and we started piling in. I grabbed Ian and pulled him with Colin, Piper and I into the van Dad was driving, and Vincent and Vi came with us.

"Dad, this is Ian Matthias, he's the one Giles called about," I said as I dropped into the front passenger's seat and turned to indicate Ian. "He got picked as a Champion for one of the Powers That Be— the one who stands for Hope— in the middle of the fight. And that right after he saved my butt from a demon that had come up behind me. Ian, this is my dad, Whitelaw Penobscot."

Dad turned around in his seat and gave Ian a long, firm handshake. "Call me Whitey, please, young man," Daddy said. Then he gave Ian a mock-stern look and went on, "You saved my daughter's life. For that, I'm in your debt. So if you say one word to me about not wanting to put us out— or anything of that nature— while you're staying with us, I'll have to hope that I can get away with kicking your butt."

"Yes, Whitey," Ian said, wince-grinning over the wordplay. "I'll behave."

We drove back to Scooby Mansion, with those of us who'd been there roughing out the fight for Daddy, and I made Ian blush darkly by quoting— verbatim— the conversation between him and the Power Hope.

When I finished, Daddy locked his eyes on Ian's in the rearview mirror and said with a smile, "You, young man, are pre-approved. When one of the Powers picks you for its Champion? When it's the Power Hope, to boot?

"Jocelyn is spoken for, but I have other daughters. When they're old enough, you have my permission to marry either of them."

"Uh, thanks," Ian said, blushing even darker than the last time.

"Relax, Ian," Piper said from beside him. "I've been around Whitey enough to— well, to want to call him Uncle Ben, for one— my aunt and Uncle raised me— and to know that he only teases you if he likes you, to boot."

"Okay," Ian said. He tried a grin, got a response from Dad, and said, "Well, if they grow up to look like Jocelyn, I may have to take you up on that. How long 'til one of them is eighteen?"

"Eight years, I'm afraid," Dad said. He'd been looking at Piper in the rearview mirror, smiling at the compliment she'd paid him, but he glanced at the road then looked at Ian, said, "If she turns out as well as Jocelyn in respect to romantic inclinations, we'll probably let her date seriously at thirteen or fourteen, if you really want to keep your options open that long."

"Um, I'd be nineteen or twenty, though," Ian reminded Dad.

"Oh, come on, I know you've read Chosen to Stand," Daddy said. "Remember, I was thirty when I married Jocelyn's mother, and she was sixteen. I'm capable of being an asshole, Ian, when need arises, but I'm not a hypocrite."

"Uh, okay," Ian said. "I forgot that. I mean— it's one thing to read about you guys like that, and it's something else entirely to freaking go home with a bunch of you, y'know?" He looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "It's like going home to Minas Tirith with Aragorn, you know? Or back to Vulcan with Mr. Spock. Or to Castle Amber with Prince Corwin."

At that last, Daddy's eyes lit up. He loved the Chronicles of Amber, through the first half of which Prince Corwin of Amber was the lead character, and had actually been pissed when it turned out that the Royal Family of Amber had turned up at the Law and Justice Center in the throes of the dimensional bleedover that had characterized the final battle with Amy Madison— and he hadn't gotten to meet them.

Through the rest of the ride home, Daddy and Ian talked about the Chronicles of Amber, and I could see Ian relaxing more with every word they exchanged. Neat.

We got home and everyone went to Scooby Mansion, where Daddy took Ian downstairs to get some new clothes— his had been torn up by demons, and the pants, sized to fit the sticklike legs of a paraplegic, didn't fit well anyway.

When they came up, everyone had gathered in the living room to hear about Ian and Oz, and Giles said, "Willow, I know you are eager to hear about what Oz has been doing these many years, and I am as well— but I think I should like to know a little more about Ian before we start.

"Ian… could you tell us a bit about yourself? How you came to be in a wheelchair, if it's not too personal?"

"No, it's okay," Ian said. He took a deep breath, and said, "It's not really complicated, either. When I was six, my dad and mom decided to take us all— me, mom and my older sister— on a vacation to the Grand Canyon. We were going by car, since dad had a month of vacation time, and… we didn't even get out of Peoria very far, just onto the interstate, when a trucker who'd been driving for like a day and a half fell asleep at the wheel. He jumped the median, and the trailer… landed on our car. Mom, Dad and Helen all died, and I… I got the wheelchair. Mom and dad had both been only children, and my grandparents were all dead, so… I was the only six year-old in the nursing home. I couldn't do regular foster care, I needed some… some special care, so they stuck me in the nursing home. I still went to school and stuff, but I lived there."

" 'You have, in your sixteen years, borne much pain,' " I quoted. I shook my head and added, "God, that sucks, Ian, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Ian said. He shrugged and said, "A lot of the people were nice— I ended up with a lot of grandmas and grandpas, and I hope I can still go visit them pretty often?" Giles nodded and smiled, and Ian nodded back, then visibly relaxed. "Wow. You know, if I wake up and this was all a dream, I'm gonna be seriously pissed."

"I cannot blame you," Giles said, leaning forward and meeting Liam's eyes. "However, I am quite sure that you will not do so.

"In the meantime…." Giles gestured to Aunt Dawn and Aunt Sh'rin, and as they came towards him and Ian, said, "Ian, these two are healers of extreme skill— and have magic at their disposal to aid them, including a diagnostic spell that I have seen them use many times, and that has never been wrong. I would appreciate it if you would let them use that spell on you, just for safety's sake.

"But before they begin… young man, I barely know you, but I must say that I am proud of you."

"Proud?" Ian said, looking both intrigued and puzzled. "Sir— Giles— I don't understand. Why are you proud of me? I'm practically bouncing off the walls with delight, here."

"You are justified in that delight," Giles said. He stood up and moved closer to Ian, laid a hand on his shoulder. "But I am proud of you, Ian, first because you are not letting that delight distract you, and second… Ian, you managed, in the face of being orphaned and being confined to a wheelchair to maintain enough hope to attract the attention of a Power that is Hope.

"You are an extraordinary young man, Ian Matthias, and I'm glad to have met you."

"I'd have to agree," Xander said, leaning forward and grinning. "And I'm the acknowledged expert on 'extraordinary'— just ask Dawn."

Aunt Dawn looked back at Xander, gave him a thousand-megawatt smile, then turned her attention back to the spell she and Sh'rin had laid out. "Okay, Ian, this will only take a minute or so, and Sh'rin and I will need to touch your wrists where a nurse checks your pulse, okay?"

"Okay," Ian said. He glanced over his shoulder at Giles, who stayed close, stood behind Ian, not touching him so that he wouldn't interfere with the spell, but staying there. "Thanks, Giles. I know that nothing's wrong with me, but… I get you wanting to be sure, you know?"

"Thank you, Ian," Giles said, and stayed where he was.

Aunt Dawn and Aunt Sh'rin joined hands, and each laid the palm of their free hand on Ian's wrists at the pulse-points, then started chanting. After about a minute, they reached the trigger-point of their spell, and a band of pure white light appeared at the crown of Ian's head, started to travel downwards slowly, expanding to pass over his shoulders and chest, then travelling on down slowly. I'd seen this spell before, knew what to look for, and felt a quiet delight when the band reached Ian's feet without ever once having slowed down or flashed yellow, orange or red.

"According to the spell," Aunt Dawn said when it had finished, "you're as healthy as a Slayer on her best day, Ian. But it's nice to be sure."

"It is, thank you," Ian agreed, grinning at her and Aunt Sh'rin. "Thank you both, ladies."

"Indeed it is, and my thanks as well." Giles then turned to Oz and said, "Now, Oz, I believe it is your turn. You have obviously gained full control of your lycanthropy. May I ask how?"

"And where you've been and what you've been doing all these years, don't forget that," Willow said from where she sat half-reclining against Lydia, with their little adopted daughter, Elise, in her lap. "That's a big question, too."

"Point," Oz said. "But the lycanthropy thing… that first."

Oz stood up, walked over to where Buffy sat with Xander on one side and Joyce on the other and said, "Buffy, I owe you. You're the reason I've got control of the wolf."

Buffy gaped up at him for a moment, then sputtered, "Me? Huh?"

Oz nodded, smiled a little, and explained.