"One of the most important things you can do on this earth is to let people know they are not alone."

― Shannon L. Alder

February 6, 2003

She stumbles onto the front steps near midnight. It's dark, which means everyone is probably asleep. It also means that if Angelus followed her, there's less of a chance of them hearing her scream for help.

Just like LA.

Yeah, that's the more likely scenario.

She slowly moves closer to the door, ready to make as much noise as possible if she needs to. With three people living in the house, one of them is bound to wake up.

Guided by the light from the porch, she finds the doorbell and raises her hand.

Light suddenly bathes one of the rooms upstairs and she panics. She waits. Hoping it's Willow, but knowing there's a good chance it's Buffy. She stands on the steps, frozen. Angelus is right. She's a coward.

"Fred?"

Fred snaps back to reality to see Buffy standing in front of her. She tries to speak, but she belatedly realizes that Angelus punched her in the jaw when she tried to scream, and there's a good chance it's broken. She realizes how jarring this must be for Buffy, to have a woman she's only ever met twice showing up at her door in the middle of the night, looking worse than post-battle Buffy herself.

She stands, frozen. She suddenly feels exposed, naked. She smooths her hands over her clothes. She wishes she could burn them so she never has to look at them again.

"Why don't you come inside?" Buffy's voice is soft, gentle. Fred feels her hand on her arm and she wants to throw up at the thought of someone touching her.

Still, she lets Buffy guide her inside and to the couch in the living room. She sits, and pulls her knees up to her chest. She can still feel the blood, the pain, and she wants to ask Buffy if she sees the blood too, but she can't. Partly because of her jaw, but mainly because she doesn't want to know the answer.

Buffy sits down on the coffee table across from Fred, trying to assess what she should do. Willow is definitely more equipped to handle a situation of this magnitude. Buffy barely even knows Fred, and what she does know, she has only heard through her best friend.

"Buffy?"

Fred jumps at the voice heard from the top of the stairs. It isn't Willow. She knows Willow's voice. She turns away when she hears the footsteps get closer. It must be Buffy's sister. Dana, or Daisy. Fred can't remember. She can't focus on anything but the pain.

"What's going on? What happened to her?"

"I don't know, Dawnie. Go upstairs and get Willow for me, okay? And the first aid kit."

Dawn. That's it. Fred closes her eyes. Her head is throbbing and she's so tired. She hears Dawn's footsteps run up the stairs and then Buffy shifts so she's sitting on the couch beside her. Fred leans back on the couch, her head lolling to the side.

"Fred." Buffy shakes her shoulder gently, and Fred's eyes snap open, darting around the room. "I know you're tired, but you need to stay awake, okay?"

Fred feels Buffy cover her with a blanket and then there's more footsteps. Dawn is at her side, pulling things out of the first aid kit. Bandages. Painkillers. Disinfectant. Does she look that bad? She feels Dawn's fingers under her chin, guiding her face towards her. Fred doesn't want to look at her. She doesn't want anyone to see her like this.

"It's okay, sweetheart." Buffy says, and Fred doesn't know if she's talking to her or Dawn. Finally, blessedly, Dawn's hand is gone. More footsteps. Willow. It has to be Willow. God, she hopes it's Willow.

"Fred." Willow's voice is soft, just barely a whisper as she crouches down beside Dawn. "What…"

Fred jumps when Dawn stands suddenly. She hates this. She doesn't want to be like this.

"I wanna help. What can I do?" Dawn asks, determined. Her voice is louder than Fred would like it to be, and Fred inches closer to Willow.

"You can go back to bed." Buffy says, standing from the couch. Slower, with her hands where Fred can see them. "You have school in the morning."

"But…"

"Dawn."

Dawn sighs loudly and crosses her arms over chest. Her voice is louder now. "God! You know I'm not six, right? You're so unfair!"

Fred closes her eyes, her hands flying to her ears. She just wants the noise to stop. She feels the tears, hot and fast down her cheeks, and her body convulses with sobs. She wants to scream out in pain, but she's too tired.

"See? You made her cry." Dawn's voice trails off as she follows Buffy into the kitchen. Fred feels Willow beside her, taking her hands and holding them in her own. She fights back the nausea and tries to focus on Willow. Willow is safe.

Everything is too bright for Fred. And noisy. And public. This is a public place. He can come here, he can come back for her. For Willow. Fred sees a security guard, pacing around, looking for trouble.

He would try to take Angelus out, but Angelus would debilitate him in seconds. Just like he did with her. Fred wants to be sick. She also wants to sleep, but every time she closes her eyes, she sees his face. Looming over her. Laughing. God, she can't get that laugh out of her head. Wasn't it just a couple of weeks ago she was telling Angel he needed to laugh more?

Now she thinks she can go her whole life and then some without ever hearing his laugh again.

Her jaw throbs under the makeshift bandage to hold it in place. She lets her head droop onto Willow's shoulder and she closes her eyes. Too bright.

She doesn't know when she falls asleep against Willow's shoulder, but she feels her nudging her softly, and hears her whispering in her ear.

"Fred. Sweetie, we're up."

Fred stirs, her eyes slowly opening. For a second, she swears she sees him waiting for her, but then she blinks and it's just the nurse who called her name.

Willow helps her stand and Fred grips onto her shirt tightly, mainly because everything hurts and she doesn't know if she can take a step forward without screaming in agony.

"Nice and slow. That's it." Willow says softly as she helps Fred. "I've got you." It's all she can do to hope it's not as serious as it looks, because Willow knows how debilitating a broken jaw can be. Surgery, metal plates, wires. She can't handle the thought of Fred having to go through all of that, on top of everything else.

They eventually make it to the room, and Willow helps Fred onto the bed. It's not as bright, and it's just her and Willow. Finally. It'll be harder for him to find her here. Not much, but at least they have a chance now.

"Hey, honey, I know you're scared, but you think you can loosen your grip a little? I'm not gonna leave you, I promise."

Fred does loosen her grip, and Willow sits on the bed beside her, her hand running through Fred's hair as Fred quietly weeps. The combination of pain and fear is too much for her to handle. She just wants it to stop.

"Shh," Willow says, wiping Fred's tears with her free hand. She wishes, not for the first time since Dawn woke her up, that she could switch places with Fred. That she could take her pain away. "I know, sweetie. We'll be out of here soon, okay?"

Fred just continues to cry.

Eventually, the doctor shows up. He walks into the room with an air of cockiness that even makes Willow uneasy. Fred looks at him, and she gasps. There he is, with his malicious grin and his hungry eyes. He steps closer to her and she sits up, despite her pain, inching closer to Willow.

"I told you I'd be back for round two, Fred."

He doesn't move at all. Doesn't try to attack, he just stands there, staring at her. What the hell is he waiting for? Fred just wants him to get it over with.

"Fred."

She jumps at the sound of Willow's voice, close to her ear. She feels Willow's arms around her, holding her, keeping her close. She blinks again, and Angelus is gone. It's just the doctor. She lets out a breath and holds onto Willow with shaky hands.

"Are you experiencing any other pain?" He asks again, watching her through wire-rimmed glasses.

She starts to open her mouth, but remembers she can't, so she just nods her head. The room starts to spin and she feels like she's going to be sick.

"I think she has a concussion." Willow tells the doctor for Fred. "And she's holding her left wrist kinda funny. And she's having trouble walking."

The doctor takes notes and then steps closer. He reaches out to unwrap the bandage. Fred whines and turns her head, hiding her face in Willow's shoulder. She's not trying to be uncooperative, but the thought of anyone besides Willow touching her right now sends her reeling.

"It's okay." Willow soothes, then turns to the doctor with an apologetic look. "You think we can get a different doctor? A woman?"

The doctor sighs, long and inconvenienced. As if Willow just asked for a kidney or something. Then he speaks again. "I'll see what I can do."

When he leaves, Willow turns to Fred. She has to know. Not just for her own peace of mind, but for the doctors as well. She needs to know what to tell them, how to let them help her. Still, the fact that it's even a possibility makes Willow want to cry. "It's okay, sweetie. He's gone." Her fingers run through her hair again. It's the only thing that seems to keep her relatively calm. "Can you look at me?"

Fred lifts her head, her tear-filled eyes finding Willow's.

Willow shudders. How is she going to do this? It's times like these she wishes Giles was still here, in the states with them. He always knows what to do in the most difficult situations. But now he's in England, and Willow is here trying to ascertain if the woman she's in love with has been brutally raped, along with being beaten within an inch of her life. "Fred, I know how hard this is. But I need to know what to tell the doctors. Did the person who did this rape you?" Willow chokes out the last question, like poison on her tongue.

And at Fred's small, near imperceptible nod, Willow's world shatters.

Fred watches as the new doctor, a woman who introduced herself as Doctor Doyle, goes for the sterile gauze. It must be for her neck, where Angelus bit her. Just enough to make her weak. He knew what he was doing. She shivers at the memory.

"Shh," Willow soothes, brushing Fred's hair away from her neck so that Doctor Doyle can disinfect the bite. She wants to ask questions, but Fred isn't even close to ready to answer them. "Just focus on my hand, okay?"

Doctor Doyle places a bandage over the bite, taping it in place. She goes for Fred's wrist next, which she has already determined is just a sprain. Fred thinks it happened when she lost control of the crossbow. Her shaky hand wouldn't aim right, and he knocked it out of her hand. She remembers firing a shot and thinking he was hit. He made her think he was hit. To lure her into a false sense of security.

One bandage and a wrapped wrist later, and Doctor Doyle is finished. She tells them that her jaw is broken, but it's only a mild fracture, which means it can heal on its own. Rest, minimal talking, and lots of painkillers. Willow is only somewhat relieved. They still have to do the rape kit. The doctor told them about the risks of going without one - pregnancy, undiagnosed STD. She said it might help catch who did it, but Fred knows they won't get anything. He's been dead for over two hundred years. The worst he can give her is a lifetime of trauma.

They won't let Willow stay with her. It's hospital policy that only family is allowed with the victim. She reluctantly leaves, promising Fred she'll be right outside. But it's not the same as being there with her. She finds a payphone and deposits a quarter, dialing Buffy's number. She had promised to keep her updated before they left.

"Willow?" Buffy picks up. "What do you know?"

Too much, Willow thinks. "Her jaw's broken, but it should heal on its own. Sprained wrist, and a lot of bruising and scarring. It should all heal within a few weeks."

Buffy breathes a sigh of relief. "That's good, right? I mean, no extended hospital stays. You guys can come right home and we can take care of her here until she's back to normal." Buffy waits for Willow to respond. "Will?" The only response she gets is a strangled sob. Buffy wishes more than anything she could jump through the phone and hold her. "Hey. It's gonna be okay."

"Buffy…" Willow chokes out. "He raped her." It hits her like a tidal wave of sorrow and rage when she admits it to someone else out loud. It feels like the ground beneath her has crumbled, leaving her adrift in a sea of heartache and helplessness. "They're doing a kit right now, but they wouldn't let me stay with her. They said I wasn't family."

Buffy stays silent, seething. Up until this point, she had thought that Fred was simply mugged. Worst case scenario, a domestic abuse situation she had gotten away from. And that was bad enough. Now, to find out that she was raped - that a man thought her life was worth shattering within a matter of minutes - is heartbreaking. "Did she say who did it?" Buffy asks, because with every sob that escapes her best friend's mouth, Buffy is hellbent on finding the son of a bitch. She's itching to show him what it feels like to be beaten within an inch of his life by someone who knows he can't fight back.

"Buffy, she hasn't said anything." Willow says, sniffling. "She's in so much pain, and I can't even help her. I just wanna help her."

Buffy's heart clenches in her chest. It's no secret how Willow feels about Fred. She has told Buffy countless times. Expressed her fear of rejection, of moving on after Tara. She talks about Fred the same way she used to talk about Tara. It breaks Buffy's heart, that now, Willow may never get to tell her. That Fred may be so irreparably damaged that she'll never be able to love the same way again. Then, she thinks, that's okay, because Willow will love her enough for the both of them. Tirelessly. Endlessly. "We'll help her, Will. All of us. Together. Okay? You won't lose her to this. I won't let it happen."

"Yeah. I guess." Willow replies, like she doesn't actually believe it. She hears the cries from Fred's room, and she's instantly on alert. "Buffy, I have to go." She hangs up and hurries toward the source of the noise.

She sees two nurses holding her down while Fred kicks and thrashes, trying to get free. She isn't even trying to fight them, Willow notices. She's just trying to get free. "Stop!" Willow demands, her voice loud and harsher than intended. "She's scared, can't you see that?" Willow marches over to Fred with a look on her face that stops the two nurses in their tracks. She only just now sees the restraints on her wrists. "Take these off. Now."

One of the nurses does just that, then steps away from Willow. "It's just protocol, ma'am. So she doesn't aggravate her injuries."

Willow feels Fred clutching desperately at her hand, and she squeezes softly. "Let me stay. I'll make sure she doesn't make them worse."

The nurses don't argue.

By the time they get home, it's just starting to get light outside. Willow pulls into the driveway, parking the car and taking the keys out of the ignition. She remembers the results of the rape kit. The nurses told her there was no DNA, but there's extensive vaginal and anal tearing, and evidence of oral assault as well. Willow ran to the nearest bathroom to throw up after they told her that. She turns to Fred, who is finally calm, staring out the windshield. Willow slides out of the driver's seat and closes the door behind her. The noise makes Fred jump. Willow crosses to the passenger's side and opens the door. "Okay, sweetie. Put your arms around my neck."

Fred doesn't move.

"Fred."

Nothing.

Willow sighs softly, reaching in and gently taking Fred's arms, one at a time, and wrapping them around her neck. She wraps her own arms around Fred's waist. Awkwardly, she's able to get Fred out of the car and close the door with her foot. "Ready to get all nice and cozy inside?" Willow tries again, but Fred still doesn't respond. Willow debates whether she should go inside and get Buffy to help her inside, but she can't leave Fred on her own. Not like this. "I'm gonna pick you up now, okay, honey?" She slowly slides her hands beneath Fred's legs and back. As she lifts her, she hopes with her entire being that Fred doesn't fight her.

Miraculously, she makes it inside the house and into the living room. She sets her down on the couch and covers her with the blanket hanging off the back. "There we go. See? Nice and safe, sweetie. I'll be right back, okay?"

Fred still doesn't respond.

Willow crosses to the kitchen and grabs a glass, filling it with water. She grabs the prescription painkillers and dumps two of them into her hand. The doctor told her that they should knock her out, make her want to sleep. Willow still doesn't know if that's a good thing or not. She won't be in as much pain while she's sleeping, but her dreams will surely haunt her. She crosses back into the living room and sees that Fred still hasn't moved. "Fred." Willow is careful to keep her voice as soft as she can. "I have some painkillers here. If you want them. You know, for the pain. To kill it."

Fred just stares ahead.

Willow adjusts her body so she's sitting next to Fred. "I'm right beside you, okay?" She announces as if Fred can't see her. She wants to make sure that she doesn't scare her. "I'm gonna give you something for the pain. But it's okay. It's just me."

Still nothing.

"Okay, sweetie. Here I go." Somehow, Willow manages to get Fred to swallow the pills, but as soon as she does, Fred stands, shaky, covering her mouth. Willow is quick to understand and she guides her to the bathroom.

Fred just makes it before she's dry heaving into the toilet. She feels Willow behind her, holding her hair back and rubbing her back gently. She's crying again - loud, unbidden sobs - and she falls back against Willow.

"Open up, gorgeous."

"Shh. It's okay. You're okay." Willow whispers, holding Fred tightly. She's acutely aware that there's a high chance that Fred won't ever be okay again, and Willow gasps at the agonizing realization.

Fred turns in Willow's arms, burying her face in her shoulder and gripping onto her shirt tightly, as if she's afraid Willow will disappear.

"I'm here, baby." Willow murmurs into Fred's hair, her own tears falling as Fred's sobs intensify. The pet name slips out before she can stop it. "I'm right here." She rests her cheek on the top of Fred's head, rocking her gently.

As Fred's sobs slowly subside to soft hiccups, she looks up at Willow, her eyes still tear-filled and red-rimmed. "I need…a…shower." She manages through the pain in her jaw.

Willow brushes a strand of hair out of Fred's face, brushing her fingers across Fred's cheek to wipe away the last of her tears. "Are you sure you're gonna be okay with that? I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"Please." Fred begs, pushing away from Willow and grabbing at her clothes. She can't wear this outfit any longer. She feels his hands all over, pushing her shirt up. Grabbing her...

"Okay." Willow's voice cut through her thoughts, helping Fred stand. "But I'll be right outside the door, okay? If you need anything, just yell."

Fred nods, trying not to focus too hard on the spinning room. She realizes that if she does need anything, she most likely won't be able to yell loud enough for Willow to hear.

Just like LA.

"I'mma keep watch over our friend."

That's what Charles had told her right before she went to sleep. She has no idea how he got past him, if Charles is even still alive. But she had to get out of there. He promised her he'd be back, and Fred knows she couldn't survive round two. She's barely surviving round one.

Willow grabs a towel from the cupboard, hands it to Fred, then steps out, closing the door softly as she leaves. She leans her back against the wall, sinking down onto the floor and listening for the sounds of the water running.

As the sound of the shower turning on fills her ears, she rests her head back against the wall and closes her eyes against the sudden onslaught of her own tears.

She thinks about calling Angel, or Cordelia, but it's still so late and she has a feeling that they have as much of an idea about what happened as Willow does. She wonders if it was that guy she's been seeing, Charles. Fred's told her about him a couple of times and, while Willow's chest felt like it was on fire whenever she did, at least Fred seems happy with him. Or did. Willow doesn't know what to think anymore. She hears the water turning off and she stands, listening for any signs of distress. The bathroom door opens slowly, revealing Fred, wrapped in a towel. She takes a step forward, reaching out to place a hand on her arm. Her fingers hover over Fred's skin, bruised and battered. "I'll take you upstairs so you can get changed into something nice and cozy, okay? I'm gonna touch you, but only to make sure you don't hurt yourself. Is that okay?"

Fred nods, and Willow hesitates. She's looking for an unmarred spot on her arm, but she can't find one. Both her arms, her entire body, is covered in bruises and scars. After a few seconds, Willow's fingers close around her bicep, leading her up the stairs and to her bedroom.

Fred stands in the middle of the room, watching as Willow digs around in her dresser for some clothes. She pulls out a dark red sweater and a pair of sweatpants, and hands them to her. Fred takes them, but doesn't move from the middle of the room.

"Hey." Willow steps closer. "Are they that bad?" It was meant as a joke, something to lighten the mood. "Come on, sweetie. Work with me here. I'll turn around so you can change, okay?"

Fred still doesn't move.

Willow guides her to the bed. She takes the shirt and pulls it down over Fred's head. She pulls the towel down, just far enough to cover what the sweater doesn't, then pulls one arm through the sleeve. Then another. She feels Fred's muscles, taut under her touch. "Do you need help with the rest?" She refuses to go further without consent.

Fred nods, small, and she sees Willow take the pants. Her heart pounds in her chest so fast she feels like she's going to pass out. She can't even handle getting dressed by herself. Angelus is right. She's weak. She's nothing.

Willow slowly removes the towel, giving Fred a chance to protest. She keeps an eye on Fred the whole time, studying her face for any signs of distress. She unfolds the pants. "I'm gonna help you put these on now, okay? It's just me. Just Willow." She sees Fred nod and continues. She slowly pulls the towel down the rest of the way and immediately wishes she hadn't. Bruises line the inside of her thighs, in the shape of hands. It isn't anything Willow doesn't already know, but seeing it for herself cuts Willow to her soul, deep and excruciating. "Oh, sweetie." Her voice is soft, trembling. She makes quick work of getting Fred's legs into the pants. She coaxes her to stand and pulls them up to her waist, covering her.

Fred collapses onto the bed again, exhausted. She curls up into the fetal position on one side, her body screaming in pain. She feels the bed sink behind her, and Willow's hand, rubbing her back.

"Try again, bitch."

Willow's hands are suddenly large and rough, roaming her entire body. Her soft voice is replaced with his laugh, loud and menacing. She had just shot the crossbow and he grunted out in pain. He made her think she finally got rid of him before crawling into the bed behind her and…

Willow comes into view, crouching down in front of the bed. "I don't want to sleep here if you're not okay with it. Do you want me to sleep on the couch?"

Fred gasps, reaching for Willow, then wincing in pain. Everything is on fire. "No." She manages through the pain. "Don't…go. P…lease."

"I'm right here." Willow assures Fred, taking her hand. "I'll stay right here with you. It's okay." She makes herself comfortable, as far away from Fred as she can. She wants to make sure Fred has the space she needs. She reaches over to turn the lamp off and she closes her eyes, ready to get this nightmare over with and wake up with a fresh mind to better help Fred. She's surprised when she feels Fred move closer, her head falling onto her chest and her fingers clutching at her shirt. Willow wraps her arms around Fred, holding her close.

"W…illow…don't make…me go…b…ack." Fred mutters into Willow's chest, listening to the sound of her heartbeat. She's surrounded by the smell of sage and vanilla. It's a smell that screams Willow, and she lets it comfort her as she finally drifts off in her arms.

When she wakes up again, she's sitting up, half in Willow's lap. She doesn't even realize she's crying until Willow is shushing her. She tries to be quiet, for Buffy and Dawn, who she's sure both need their sleep after she barged into their house and woke them up in the middle of the night.

"It's okay, sweetie. You're safe." Willow whispers, pulling her closer. "I'm here." She gently brushes the hair away from Fred's face as she holds onto her tightly. If she injures herself further, another hospital visit will be out of the question. She doesn't think either one of them will be able to handle that. "Fred, you need to calm down now, okay? You're fighting me like Rocky here, and I really don't want you to hurt yourself."

Is she? Fred realizes that she, in fact, is struggling in Willow's arms, her legs kicking on the bed and her arms twitching to be let out of Willow's tight hold. She tries to calm down, but she can't. She can't stop remembering, can't stop thinking about it. She feels him all over her, inside of her. When she looks in the corner, she sees him. Staring at her with that same chill-inducing leer, laughing as she cries. She turns away, hiding her face in Willow's shoulder. "W…illow…he's…here." She manages. Her jaw is still on fire, but she thinks the frozen peas helped.

Willow just shushes her, and Fred wonders why she's not doing anything. She should be calling for Buffy, or trying to get them to safety. But instead, she just pulls Fred even closer, so she's all the way in her lap, and starts rocking her. "No." She moans as Willow holds on. "He's…here. M…ake…him leave."

"Sweetie, no one else is here. Just you and me. I promise." Willow whispers. She sees Buffy in the doorway, watching. Of course Buffy had come running when she heard the cries. Her body is conditioned to react on instinct at the sound of distress, thanks to her years as a Slayer. "Who do you think is here, Fred?"

"Ange…lus." She weeps into Willow's shoulder. If she looks back and sees he's still there, she's sure she'll be sick. "P…lease. I can't…do it a…gain."

Willow's heart drops and she looks at Buffy. She thinks she must've heard her wrong, but the look on Buffy's face, one she's only seen a handful of times, most specifically during Angelus' run in Sunnydale, tells her that she didn't. "Baby, is that who hurt you?"

Fred just nods against Willow's shoulder, her face still hidden. "Is he…g…one?" Fred whimpers, her body aching from fighting Willow. At least she stopped moving. She thinks. All she can focus on is whether it's safe yet.

"Yeah, Fred." Willow chokes out. "He's gone. It's okay." She feels Fred lift her head, and Willow reaches up to brush away the tears. "It's okay, sweetie. He's not coming near you. Ever again. I'll make sure of it." Willow's voice is determined, and more harsh than she intended. He'll have to kill her before she lets him get to Fred. She'll die before anyone hurts her again. She knows that much.

Willow watches Buffy leave, probably to call Wes and figure out what the hell they're doing letting Angelus loose. She wants to know herself, wants to drive down there and confront each of them with her questions. Namely, how could they let him hurt one of their own so viciously? How did they not notice? How could they let it be Fred?

One of Buffy's many skills is multi-tasking. Thank God for that, because this morning, she's spread so thin it's beyond. She crosses the hall to Dawn's bedroom, knocking softly. She doesn't know why she's surprised when Dawn is already awake, dressed, and sitting on her bed. "You're up. Good. Come downstairs and eat something." Buffy is about to leave when Dawn stops her.

"Buffy?" Dawn twists her hands in her lap. She sees Buffy turn, waiting patiently for her to speak again. "It's bad, isn't it? Fred? She's not okay."

Buffy sighs. She, of course, would have questions about last night. Buffy, herself, has several. None that she can voice to her sixteen year old little sister. She sits beside Dawn on the bed. "Yeah. It's not great, Dawnie. It was pretty scary last night, seeing her like that, huh?"

"I guess." Dawn shrugs. What she means to say is, yes. That she hopes no one ever suffers like that ever again. That if she sees the person who hurt Fred like that, they'd better be sorry. "Does she, like, live here now?"

"I don't know, sweetheart. There's a lot we don't know yet." A lot we don't know, and far too much we do know, Buffy thinks to herself. She nudges Dawn's shoulder gently. "I do know that you need to get moving, though, okay? Xander's gonna be here to pick you up soon and you're not gonna make him late for work again." Her voice doesn't leave room for debate. She stands. "Ten minutes or I'm coming back up here."

Dawn stands too, staring at the ground. "Buffy."

Buffy turns again in the doorway. Ready to fight, but hoping she doesn't have to. "What, Dawn?"

"I love you." Dawn says, never looking up from the carpet. "And I hope no one ever does to you what that guy did to Fred."

Buffy crosses to stand in front Dawn and pulls her into her arms. "I love you, too, Dawnie." She pulls away and makes it out into the hallway this time. "Eight minutes!" She calls on her way down the stairs.

She moves into the kitchen and busies herself with the task of getting Dawn's breakfast. She picks up the cordless phone while she works and dials the number she knows off by heart, waiting for someone to answer. She grabs a bowl, placing it on the island.

"Angel Investi…" Wesley's voice comes through on the other end, but Buffy doesn't give him a chance to finish his greeting.

"What the hell are you guys doing?" Buffy spits, gripping the phone tighter as she waits for Wesley's reply. She pours the cereal into the bowl and puts it back.

"I'm sorry?" Wesley replies, and he pauses on the other end. Buffy guesses he's looking at the caller ID, and she hears him again a few seconds later. "Buffy?"

"You let Angelus out?" Buffy's voice drips with anger, but she sees Dawn coming into the kitchen. She holds it back. "Are you guys out of your minds?"

"On the contrary. We are looking for answers. We have him locked up. We have cameras set up to keep eyes on him. He will not be getting out." Wesley assures Buffy. A hint of the old Wesley, pompous and insecure, is heard through the phone and Buffy wants to punch it out of him.

"You might wanna upgrade your security system, Wesley. Tell me, are you missing anyone?" Buffy grabs the milk from the fridge and places it in front of Dawn. She makes sure that Dawn is settled with her breakfast before moving into the living room for a semblance of privacy. "You know, for a group of people who call themselves Team Angel, you sure don't practice much in the line of teamwork, do you?"

Wesley sputters on the other end of the line. "I hardly think…"

"Yeah. I got that." Buffy cuts him off. "In case you're looking for Fred, she's here. Alive. Barely." She figures she owes them that much. "But as long as Angelus is out there, here is where she stays. He's done more than enough and you'll be lucky if you ever get her back."

"Fred was attacked?" Wesley's voice is different, like he's trying not to cry. He's on his feet, crossing the lobby to the monitors. Sure enough, the cage is empty. His heart sinks. "Buffy, I assure you, we had measures in place…"

Buffy jumps at the sound of the back door bursting open. Her heart beats faster and with each thump, she swears it's saying Angelus.

Angelus. Angelus. Angelus.

She's in the kitchen faster than her legs can carry her. She visibly calms when she sees it's only Spike, covered with his blanket and almost on fire. She rolls her eyes and moves back into the living room. This is too much. She hears Wesley talking to her, and she catches the end of what he's saying.

"…must have let him out. I don't believe it."

Spike is suddenly in front of her, watching her with a mixture of concern and curiosity. He's there damn near every morning. It doesn't take a genius to figure out something's different.

"Well, believe this. I'll be there later today to pick up some of her stuff. If you're as smart as they say you are, you guys won't be." She ends the call and looks at Spike. "What do you want?" It comes out harsher than intended, and she wants to apologize.

"What's wrong, Buffy?" He asks, his voice tinged with genuine concern. He knows better than to play games with her today. Today, it's serious.

Buffy sighs and sits on the couch. She suddenly remembers Fred, curled up, beaten and crying, and she feels sick. She stands, a little too quickly. "Nothing." Then, she realizes that Spike just wants to help, like Dawn, and if they can get as many people in Fred's corner as possible, maybe, just maybe, she'll have a chance. "Angelus is loose. He…attacked one of Willow's friends. Someone who works…worked…with Angel."

"Is she…"

"Barely. She probably wishes she wasn't. But, yeah, she's alive." Buffy told him, moving into the kitchen to place the phone back in its cradle. She sees Dawn swirling her spoon in her bowl, but not actually eating. "Hey. Mopey. You better start eating now before Xander gets here."

"I'm not hungry." She mumbles, picking up her spoon and dropping it back into her cereal.

"Buffy…what can I do?" Spike asks, stepping closer. He places a hand on her arm and she pulls away, not because she doesn't want Spike to touch her, but because the thought of any man touching her right now is nausea-inducing. After what happened to Fred, Buffy thinks she can go her whole life without any man touching her. Ever again.

"Make sure Dawn eats." Buffy says, as she exits the kitchen. "And…just don't go anywhere. I don't know where Angelus is and if he comes here, you're the only one besides me that has a chance of keeping Fred safe. I'm gonna drive to LA and pick up some of her things, but I should be back by the time Dawn gets home from school." She sees Spike nod, and she's suddenly extremely grateful that he's on their side now. "I have to go upstairs."

When Buffy steps into Willow's bedroom, she sees that Fred still hasn't moved from Willow's lap. She's curled up in the fetal position, much like Buffy found her when she was in the throes of her nightmare. They're talking quietly - Willow more than Fred, since Fred can still barely move her jaw.

"Buffy. Hey." Willow greets her. Her voice is more quiet than Buffy can ever remember it being, and her hand traces patterns on Fred's back. "Sorry, we're just not ready for other people yet."

Buffy knows by 'we', she means Fred. "It's okay. Take your time. Dawn should be gone soon, but Spike is downstairs, if you guys need anything of the not-going-outside variety. I doubt he'll give you trouble." She crouches down in front of Fred. "I was gonna drive down to the hotel and pick up some of your things. Anything specific you want me to bring back?"

Fred tries to open her mouth, to form words, but the pain in her jaw is too much for her to handle, so she just shakes her head.

Willow speaks up for her. "Just some nice, comfy clothes. Her glasses. Maybe some of her books. Oh, and Feigenbaum." She brushed a strand of hair out of Fred's face. "Anything else, sweetie?"

Fred just shakes her head.

"Feigen-what?"

"Mas…ter of cha…os." Fred mumbles. She tries to smile, but her jaw screams in protest.

"Her stuffed rabbit." Willow clarifies, her hands running through Fred's hair. Anything to calm her, to make her feel safe.

"Clothes. Glasses. Books. Feigen-thingy." Buffy stands, careful to keep her movements slow. "Got it. I should be back by this afternoon."

"Thanks, Buffy." Willow says, her eyes flashing with gratitude.

Buffy nods and exits the room, closing the door softly behind her. She takes a minute to compose herself - it's all she can afford - before stepping into the kitchen again. She sees that Dawn has left, and her bowl is empty. She makes a mental note to ask Spike how he managed to convince her to eat the whole bowl. For Buffy, it's usually a daily struggle to get Dawn to school well-nourished enough for her to face the day.

She finds him in front of the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, the same pile she promised herself she would get to last night, scrubbing away while he stands as far away from the window as possible.

"Bit's gone to school. Promised to come right home and do all her homework without any trouble an' everything. Oh, and she ate every last bite of her nummy treat." Spike fills her in as he scrubs the dirty pot in his hands.

Buffy blinks. Not only because it's so much for her to take in on so little sleep, but also because she wasn't expecting Spike to do everything she should be doing. "You didn't have to do all of that."

"Just tryin' to make things easier on you, Slayer." He grabs the bowl Dawn used and pours a generous amount of dish soap into it. "You up for a bit of rough and tumble tonight?" He asks.

"No." She says sharply. "I can't…after what Angelus did…"

"I meant patrolling, pet. But good to know where your head's at."

"Oh." Buffy says quietly. "Patrolling sounds…yeah. Good." She leans against the counter. "I'm sorry, Spike. My mind's a little…not there. If it was just Angelus, I could handle it. Maybe. But, Willow…she's taking it hard. I can tell. And Fred is…let's just say Angelus did a number on her." She runs her hands through her hair, tugging at the ends. "God, I can't stop thinking about her, so broken. I can't even imagine how she's feeling."

Spike steps closer to Buffy, his gaze softening. He's careful not to touch her. Not now, not today. "I know, love. We just have to take it one step at a time. One bloody second at a time. And if Angelus shows up, you better believe I won't hesitate."

"Me neither."