Over the next few weeks, the nightmares grew steadily worse. The victim started changing in them. Most of the time it was Giles still, but in my nightmares I had also killed Willow, Xander, even Buffy, and once even Jenny Calendar was my prey.

I thought I would get used to them, as I had the other nightmares that had plagued me all my life. I didn't. I always woke in a panic, screaming in remorse and fear and frustration.

For the past week and a half, I had given up on sleeping.

Theoretically, vampires can get by without sleeping at all, though I had read of several who do in fact sleep, if for nothing more than to pass the time a bit more quickly.

I had thought that I too would be able to stay awake for longer periods of time with no ill side-effects, but I soon found this to not be the case.

I was getting tired, and the more tired I became, the harder it was to fight off the Essence constantly prattling in my head. It seemed to have been stirred up by the nightmares, as well as the fact that my battle wounds were aching and throbbing worse every day.

The pain I couldn't understand. I was drinking blood as regularly as I could, even procuring Giles' microwave to warm it up and give it extra flavor, but I wasn't healing the pain anymore, and this worried me. This had never happened before, ever, and I was beginning to get very worried and very fearful.

Gradually, I started distancing myself from the group. Subtly at first, a missed day at school here and there, then a few days, then missing one or two meetings in the library.

At first no one really noticed, and when they did finally ask if something was wrong I just gave the excuse that I was working on something else, but always managed to keep it vague.

The only one I think I didn't fool was Giles.

Giles saw right through me. He would fix me with a quizzical, concerned look, but say nothing in front of the others, and from that point on I took care not to be alone with him long enough for him to start asking questions, because then I knew I would reveal all to him, and I wasn't ready for that yet.

It wasn't that I didn't trust the group, because I did. I trusted them not to immediately think I was going to slaughter all of them, but…this is going to sound terribly silly, and I daresay it is, but….I didn't want them to start looking at me differently.

Because they would. They wouldn't mean to, and they wouldn't even be conscious of doing it, but they would start acting differently. They would keep me always in sight, giving me quick, nervous, curious glances, always wondering what was going on in my head, and Buffy especially would be watching me more closely. Not out of maliciousness, but just because that was her nature, she was the Slayer, and it was her duty to keep an eye out for supernatural threats.

Like me.

So no, I didn't want to tell them. Not yet. But I would, I just had to find the right way and time to do so, and then accept what came.

It wouldn't be easy. After all, these were the first friends I had ever had…

No, they were more than that. They were the first real family I had ever had, and I didn't relish the thought of making them fear me, but I knew for their own well-being that they should fear me.

They needed to still fear both me and Angel. In a way, having us as friends was not unlike having a pet tiger. You could pet and nurture and love it as much as you want, and it would be mostly tame, but there would always be a killer instinct buried beneath the surface.

It hurt, but I was keeping my distance from the children for now. For their own safety.

When the day dawned after a long night of prowling around town, trying to keep awake when reading under dim lamplight failed to do the trick. The sun, as painful as it could be, was a welcome sight when I saw its light breaking over the tops of buildings and illuminating the streets with a dim gray light.

I rubbed my eyes, wincing at how they stung.

This was my fourth night of no sleep, and I was feeling it.

Just the motion of rubbing my eyes made my shoulder ache in protest, and when I dropped my hand it tapped my leg and I hissed in pain as a fresh burst of pain shot up into my torso through the tender, still damaged flesh of my thigh.

I tried not to think of the bullet wound, and immediately dismissed the nightmarish image of the wounds on my back opening up.

I'd been away from school for five days now, today I would have to go back or risk raising more concerns.

With a sigh, I turned in the direction of the school and slowly began walking towards it.

In my wanderings I had ended up all the way on the other end of town, and traffic was only just now beginning, so I could take my time getting over there, especially since the hour was so early.

Besides, I was so weary I doubted I could move very quickly even if I had wanted to.

When I finally did get to school, I was right on time, and the usual horde of younglings were milling about outside, trying to savor their last few minutes of freedom.

Out of habit, I reached back and flipped my hood up over my head, and then paused amidst the mass of bodies and closed my eyes, trying to focus in on where any of my young friends might be.

Willow was the first one I caught wind of, and I automatically followed it.

I found her and Buffy just inside the school, and as I silently approached I heard them talking.

"So, do you see your dad a lot?" Willow was asking. Ah, it was time for Buffy's father to come visiting, I assumed.

"Nah," Buffy replied, she sounded sad, but resigned, "not too much. He's still in L.A."

Willow gave her a sympathetic look, and I hung back for a moment, not sure if I should intrude on the conversation or not, especially since a rather sensitive topic was being discussed.

"When did they get divorced?" Willow asked gently.

"Well, it wasn't finalized until last year, but they were separated before that." Buffy answered.

I found it difficult to imagine Buffy's mother, one of the sweetest people I knew, having marital problems with anyone. And from what little I'd heard Buffy talk about her father, he didn't sound like some sort of monster, just another man.

It wasn't my place to ask what had happened, however.

"Must've been harsh." Willow murmured sympathetically as they crossed the hall to their lockers.

"Yeah, that's the word you're looking for," Buffy answered, "I mean, they were really good about it around me, but, still…" she trailed off, and that's when Willow spotted me.

"Hey, Margery!" she beamed at me. That smile made me feel a little less tired, if only for a moment, and I returned it as I wandered over to them.

"I didn't mean to interrupt." I apologized. I watched their reaction. Buffy smiled a greeting, but both her and Willow exchanged glances and stared a little harder at me than was necessary, I thought. I must look worse than I thought.

"Your father's coming to visit?" I continued, trying to divert attention. Buffy nodded and opened her locker.

"This weekend." She answered with a smile.

"My parents don't even bicker," Willow picked up, "I mean, sometimes they glare…"

Both Buffy and I smiled at this. Of course Willow's parents wouldn't bicker.

"Do you know why your folks split up?"

Buffy shrugged.

"I never asked. They just…stopped getting along." She gave a mirthless laugh, "I'm sure I was no help, though, all the slaying and everything? I was a big mess."

"Yes I'm sure every parent would cringe to know their daughter is fighting the forces of darkness." I couldn't help but say. Buffy arched an eyebrow at me but I could see the smile behind it.

"I'm sure that didn't have anything to do with him leaving." Willow insisted.

"No." Buffy nodded, but she sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

"And he still comes weekends." Willow pointed out. Buffy nodded.

"Sometimes." She said.

"Well, look on the bright side," I said as we began walking down the corridor, though I stayed slightly behind them, "at least your father is a nice man, and not an ancient demon who haunts your subconscious."

Buffy giggled at that, and even Willow cracked a shy smile.

Having a demon for a father does help, sometimes.

As we made our way into class, we were greeted by Xander and another lad who I didn't immediately recognize, but then, I had never spent much time memorizing who all was in class with me when I chose to attend.

"Wendell got in Cordelia's light!" Xander said in mock horror. Cordelia. That one I knew. I sniffed in disdain and looked up towards her seat. As usual, she was busy admiring herself in the mirror.

"I'm so ashamed!" Wendell said with a roll of his eyes that made me chuckle.

"That lass confuses me." I murmured to the three of us.

"I think it's the hair." Buffy said, nodding at the back of Cordelia's head. Willow grinned.

"It does weigh heavy on the cerebral cortex." She laughed.

"Uh, guys, was there any homework?" Xander asked. The question gave me pause. Right, homework. That was one thing I hadn't counted on. I automatically sought a seat in the back corner and slipped down in it.

With any luck, the teacher wouldn't notice me.

"We're doing active listening today." Willow told him.

"Great!" Xander nodded, then shook his head, "What's active listening?"

"That would be the homework." Willow told him.

"Chapter five," Buffy explained, "where you put on your big ears and really listen to the other person."

"Miss Tishler demonstrated it yesterday." Wendell commented. Willow grinned.

"With you." She said.

Xander looked hopelessly lost.

"She was wearing that tight sweater?" Buffy reminded him. You could practically see the light bulb go on in Xander's head, bless him.

"Oh! The midnight blue angora!" Xander nodded and his eyes half-closed wistfully. He winked at Willow and me, "See? I was listenin'."

I chuckled and rolled my eyes while Willow exchanged a look with Xander.

Unfortunately we couldn't continue this riveting conversation as Miss Tishler came in.

"Okay, people, take a seat, and in a moment we will choose partners and practice what we went over in chapter five yesterday." She announced. Xander immediately cupped his hands behind his ears and even though I was sitting behind him, I could see he was grinning.

Miss Tishler smirked.

"Good, Xander, that's the spirit." She said.

Willow and Buffy exchanged a look again while I slid a little further down in my seat and made a mental note to partner with Willow as soon as the option presented itself.

Miss Tishler began talking about Isaacs, whoever that was, and I immediately lost interest and instead focused on trying to stay awake by chewing on the inside of my cheek. Buffy seemed just as disinterested as me since she began tapping her pencil absently against her desk, only to drop it about the time Miss Tishler asked Wendell to read a section.

I glanced at Buffy as she bent down to retrieve her pencil, and as she started to right herself she froze, and a strange feeling swept over me.

It was a sensation I didn't like.

Not right

'What isn't?'

Everything, something's changed

'What? What's changed? You're not helping very much, you know.'

Mmm, not sure, just watch

I didn't have long to wait. As soon as Wendell opened his book, he started screaming, and was quickly joined by pretty much every other female in the room.

I stood up from my desk so quickly I knocked it over, and saw what everyone was screaming about: Wendell's text book was covered in spiders.

They started swarming him as he screamed for someone to get them off, but everyone was too busy running away to bother to help.

I hastily unzipped my jacket and slipped it off, ignoring the screaming pain in my arm and shoulder and shoved my way through to Wendell, followed closely by Buffy, who started smacking the spiders off of the desk as quickly as she could and crushing them while I raked my jacket over Wendell to clear him of spiders.

The boy was shaking so badly he couldn't even get up to save himself.

We did the best we could, Buffy crushing and me knocking them off, until finally it seemed we had them all.

Wendell was immediately sent to the nurse's station, and small wonder because the poor boy looked paler than me and could barely walk. Another boy had to help him stand, as a matter of fact.

He was terrified.

The rest of our classmates moved out into the hall still chattering nervously while some students shivered, as though feeling phantom spiders on their necks as well.

The whole event had taken less than five minutes, but it felt both longer and shorter than that.

I looked at Buffy, and raised my eyebrows at her. She shrugged and gave a mirthless smirk.

"Welcome back to school." She said with a shrug.