I let Buffy have a twenty-minute lead before I helped Giles regain his consciousness. I had a little assistance from Ms. Calendar, since she very conveniently knew where an icepack was kept. She had to go get it since I didn't trust her to not stop Giles from going after Buffy.

He even tried to brush past me, so I had to force him into a chair and keep a vice-grip on his shoulder until she returned.

There was a very long, awkward silence while Giles sat, nursing his bruised jaw and stubbornly ignoring me, and Ms. Calendar didn't know what to do or say to make the situation better.

Neither did I.

A deep-seated feeling of dread had wedged itself firmly into the very core of my being, and I had the distinct impression that Giles was never going to forgive me for not stopping Buffy. What was worse was the fact that I couldn't be angry with him for feeling this way. I would have been livid with him if he'd told me he'd let Buffy go off to be killed, self-sacrifice though it may be.

It hurt. It hurt to watch one I called friend go off to let herself be killed while another friend despised me for what I'd done.

Then, to rub salt in the wound, Xander and Willow found us.

Xander was just as angry as Giles when he found out what Buffy had done.

"What?!" he demanded once we'd explained what was happening.

"I knew there was something going on with her." Willow murmured.

After the explanation, I had hidden myself away in the corner of the library. Call me a coward if you must, because that's exactly how I felt. I felt myself a coward for not trying harder to stop her, for not at least fighting her. I felt a coward for letting a child face a monster, when it only made sense for one monster to fight another.

"So she knew about this Prophecy of yours?" Xander continued, glaring at Giles, who nodded sullenly.

"Well what do we do?"

"We stay calm." Giles told him. "That's the first thing."

Xander gaped at him, frustrated anger sparking in his eyes.

"Calm?" he repeated.

"I think he's right." Willow offered.

"Sorry," Xander said, "but calm's not gonna work for me. I'm freaked out and I intend to stay that way."

"Xander," Willow said, trying to calm him down, but it didn't work.

"How could you let her go?" Xander demanded, looking at Giles. Then he looked up and across the room to me.

"And you?" He said, taking a few steps in my direction while I dropped my gaze to the floor, shame washing over me in overbearing waves. "You couldn't stop her, O wise and ancient one? Even delay her a little bit? Argue with her?"

Giles interrupted him.

"As the soon to be purple area on my jaw will attest, I did not let her go," he pointed out. I felt him look at me, but I didn't look up. I had no such pardon. I had let her go. Her death would be on me, and me alone.

"And…Margery was going to go in her place."

I was surprised to hear even the slightest comment in my defense, but dared not look at my friend even so. I didn't deserve his protection.

"So why didn't she?" Xander asked, still addressing me.

"She…"I began, but my voice broke. Words failed me, so I shrugged helplessly and continued staring at the floor.

What could I have possibly said to make any of this better?

"Well what can we do to help her?" Willow asked, breaking the silence.

"Oh, uh, sorry to bring this up," Ms. Calendar broke in, "but we also have an Apocalypse to worry about?"

"Do you mind?" Xander snapped at her.

"Yeah, how come she's in the club?" Willow asked.

"Hey," Ms. Calendar protested, "I know teachers are kind of monsters to kids but you have a half-vamp with you." She pointed out, "And anyway, if Buffy doesn't go the Master gets out, the Hellmouth opens, the demons come to the party and everybody dies."

I lifted my head and glared at her.

"How many times are you going to tell us what we already know?" I asked her. She glared back at me and I saw her shoulders tense.

"I don't care," Xander snapped at her, "I'm sorry, but I don't. Right now I gotta help Buffy."

"We don't even know where she's gone." Giles pointed out.

"We have a sniffer dog." Xander pointed at me.

"An excellent point," I said, coming slowly towards them, "but if they've gone underground, which they almost assuredly have, then that means there's going to be many twists, many turns, many overpowering scents and unless Buffy is bleeding, I won't be able to make quick progress without stopping every few feet to verify I'm still following the right scent."

Xander's face fell with disappointment.

"I'm sorry," I said, and I was, "but sorting through several hundred different scents of human waste is a bit difficult even for a vampire."

A sudden though occurred to me and I looked sharply at Xander. The expression on his face told me he'd had the same thought as I had.

"Vampire." I repeated.

"Angel." Xander said just a beat after me. Almost before we were done speaking, we were both heading out the library doors.

"Where are you going?" Giles shouted after us.

"To try and fix this." I shouted back at him. And just before the doors swung shut again, I saw Giles give a quick, small nod of approval. The small motion sent a surge of urgency through me, an urgency to save Buffy.

I grabbed Xander's arm and practically yanked him onto my back as I started sprinting as fast as I could.

Make no mistake, near-vampire-strength or no, Xander was still a good foot taller than I was, which made progress a bit slower than it would have been if I'd been carrying, say, Willow. Not to mention Xander kept shifting and trying to find some way to hold onto me without grabbing a handful of hair or something he shouldn't be touching, which made me have to readjust my grip on his very long legs several times.

Also, I got going a bit too fast at one point and I had to slow down to let him catch his breath again.

Nonetheless, I think we reached Angel's lair in a fairly short amount of time.

Before I'd even slowed to a jog, Xander had disengaged himself from my back and was hammering on the door to Angel's home as hard as he could.

When Angel opened the door, he had that mirthless smirk on his face he kept reserved for Xander. He must have smelled him as we approached.

"Well," he said, eyeing him disdainfully, "look who's here."

"Mind if we come in?" Xander said, brushing past him before he could answer. I hesitated, looking at Angel. The disdain slackened when he saw me, and I suppose I must have looked as though I needed some sort of assistance because his face flickered with concern for a moment before he inclined his head for me to join Xander.

"Make yourselves at home." Angel said, slamming the door shut behind us.

"She's gone." Xander announced.

"What do you mean?" Angel asked.

"The Slayer," I said, softening my tone to make up for Xander's rather loud entrance, "she's gone to fight the Master after all."

Angel's dark eyes widened and the muscles in his shoulders tensed.

"He'll kill her." He muttered, mostly to himself it sounded like, but Xander I both heard it.

"Rumor has it," he agreed, "only we're not going to let it happen."

He meant to imply we and Angel weren't going to let it happen, but Angel must have thought he simply meant myself and Xander because he stared at us a moment.

"No offense," he said, "but a human kid and a Halfling don't exactly scream 'taskforce' to me."

"You're helping." I told him.

"Well what exactly do you suppose I can do about it?" he demanded.

"Look," Xander said, coming towards him, "I know you can find this Master guy, he's underground, right? Take us to him at least."

Angel smirked again.

"You're way out of your league, kids," he said, sauntering over to us, he tried to look superior, but there was concern in those eyes, as well. Not that that made his behavior any less insufferable, of course.

"The Master will kill you both before you could even take a breath." He finished. Looking from Xander, to me, then back again.

Something in me snapped. The thought that this thing, which had claimed to have human feelings and human thoughts would throw our plea for help back in our face, especially a plea for help to assist the one he supposedly loved, and insult us on top of it, sent a burning rage through me so hot it hurt.

I growled and grabbed a fistful of his shirt and grabbed the back of his head. I turned, using the inertia to swing him with me, and slammed him against one of the support beams in the room.

I heard him give a grunt of surprise when he connected and I leaned into him, trembling with fury and frustration.

Xander didn't miss a beat.

He stepped up to us, Angel's eyes flicked to him and I heard Xander reach for something in his pocket.

"How can I say this clearly?" Xander said. He pulled something out of his pocket, I felt Angel tense and glancing back, I had trouble not flinching myself. Xander had a silver cross, and he was coming towards us with it.

I turned back to Angel, who watched the cross, and I heard the rumble of a growl starting in his chest. I narrowed my eyes at him and matched it with a warning growl of my own. His eyes darted to me, then back to Xander. He was angry, but he wasn't going to try and pull anything, either.

Xander brought the cross as close to Angel's face as he dared, and since I had pulled my hand out from behind his head to press it against his chest, the tip of the cross brushed against my hand. It didn't burn so much as sting me for a moment, and I moved my hand as casually as I could while Xander continued.

"I don't like you," he said, "at the end of the day, I pretty much think you're a vampire." He sighed and reluctantly pulled the cross back.

"But Buffy's got a thing for ya," he admitted, "she thinks you're a real person." He straightened himself to lock eyes with Angel.

"And right now I need you to prove her right."

Angel's lip curled upward ever so slightly.

"You're in love with her." He said. I knew what he was hearing: the accelerated heartbeat when Xander had started talking about Buffy.

Xander sniffed.

"Aren't you?" he pointed out.

"Angelus," I said, controlling my anger enough to let go of him and step back, "obviously we haven't seen eye-to-eye on a number of instances." He simply smirked at that and I had to try not to slap it off his face.

"But one thing I've come to accept with you is that if you do indeed have a soul, then that means you might be able to love, and from what I've seen, you have some form of love for Buffy. And if you do, it only makes sense that you would try to aid her in her hour of need."

Angel swallowed and looked down.

"But, the Prophecy-" he started.

"I know about the Prophecy," I snapped at him, "don't tell me about the Prophecy, I could quote it to you backwards if you want. I know what it says, but," I paused, my hands shaking so I clenched them into fists, "she's a child, Angel."

Since it was one of the few times I'd actually called him 'Angel', that made him look back up at me.

"She's a child. And any Prophecy that calls for the death of a child is a sorry excuse for a prophecy. And besides," I continued, "a prophecy is a prediction. A prediction." I took a breath and tried to sound more confident than I felt, "And sometimes, even if there isn't much evidence to the contrary, a prediction can be wrong."

I let a beat of silence go by before I spoke again.

"So help her," I pleaded, "take us to the Master and let us prove a prediction wrong."

He met my eyes, and nodded.

Of course, our journey took us to the sewers, as I'd predicted. Also as I'd predicted, as hard as I concentrated, I could barely make out Buffy's scent. It was there, but it was being masked by newer smells.

Angel was also having to count doors, apparently.

We moved past three, and I could hear him counting how many we moved past. Then he stopped, eyed a passageway, frowned, hesitated, then turned and pointed to a different passageway.

"Here, this way." He said, and quickly took the lead, moving past Xander as he did so.

"Hey," Xander said, stopping him, "what was that about?"

"What?" Angel demanded.

"My neck, you looked at my neck, I saw that." Xander said, pointing accusingly at him. I rolled my eyes and moved past him and Angel both. They could both act like squabbling children sometimes, it was ridiculous.

"Just keep your distance, pal." Xander insisted.

"I wasn't looking at your neck!" Angel argued.

Behind me, I could practically feel Xander roll his eyes.

"I told you to eat before we left." He muttered.

"Xander," I said, warningly, "if you start another argument, I'll be the one eating you."

"Okay, Mom." Xander said sarcastically, "We'll behave so you don't have to turn the car around and make us miss out on the Apocalypse."

I half-turned and bared my fangs at him warningly.

He had the curtesy to blush, at least.

As we got closer, I could feel the atmosphere changing. It practically crackled with power, now, and we'd nearly reached the main chamber when suddenly the powerful tension that had been building in the air snapped, accompanied by a dramatic snapping sound, and flashes of light that announced a great power had been unleashed.

We all stopped short as a terrible feeling swept over me. Terrible, but powerful as well. A calling, of sorts, from the Hellmouth.

"Buffy." I whispered. There was a part of me, a section of my heart, or what pitiful excuse I had for a heart, anyway, that ached suddenly with fear and a dreadful finality.

I looked at Angel. He felt it too. And Xander must have as well because he looked at us, his eyes widening and his heart beginning to race with fear.

"Guys?" he asked, "What was that?"

"We're too late." I whispered, trying to not let my voice crack. We'd failed.

"He's gone up." Angel said, and then started running for the inner sanctum, Xander right behind him, leaving me to bring up the rear.

I knew what we were going to find, and I didn't want to see it. I didn't want to see yet another friend gone, to feel that ache as yet another soul I held dear left me behind. What was worse was the fact that I had let that soul be taken.

Angel outdistanced us, but even with my late start, I passed Xander and was practically on Angel's heels when we broke into the inner sanctum, and then stopped short. Angel had spotted her first.

I caught a glimpse of the white dress she'd been wearing, and felt my chest constrict as my fears were realized.

Buffy was lying face-down in what looked like a small pool of water. Her golden hair fanned out around her head like a golden halo in the dim lighting.

She wasn't moving.

Angel bolted to her and fell to his knees at her side, grabbing her in desperation and flipping her over, letting her wet hair fall over her face.

I moved to join him, only more slowly. I couldn't hear her heart beating. Behind me, Xander skidded to a halt, gasping in dismay at the sight.

"No," I murmured to myself, sinking to my knees on the opposite side of Buffy. "No, dear heart, I'm so sorry."

Angel was listening at her chest, her face, hoping for some sign of life. Finding none, he looked up at Xander and said what we already knew: "She's dead."