Dawn of the Future

by Brenna's Urbangirl Projects

The Battle of Sunnydale was lost, The First was slowly taking over the world and the Scoobies were dead. Dawn Summers makes a wish to D'Hoffryn to go back and change how it all goes in the hopes of saving those she loves.

6. Chapter 5: When She Was Bad

Chapter 5: When She Was Bad

September 15, 1997 – Monday

Sunnydale High School

Snyder strolled alongside Giles across the quad, casting an observant eye over the bustling sea of students. His voice quivered with a mixture of nostalgia and apprehension. "The first day back. It always gets me."

Giles chimed in with a touch of understanding in his tone. "Yes," Giles agreed, his British sensibility masking a myriad of emotions.

Snyder's gaze remained fixed on the youthful commotion, and he continued, a blend of bewilderment and disdain in his voice. "I mean, it's incredible. One day the campus is completely bare, empty… the next, children are everywhere." His words dripped with a visceral distaste, mirroring the chaos that had unfolded before them. "Like locusts. Crawling around, mindlessly bent on feeding and mating, destroying everything in sight in their relentless, pointless desire to exist."

Giles couldn't help but inject a bit of dry humor into the conversation. "I do love these pep talks. Have you ever considered, given your abhorrence of children, that school principal is perhaps not your true vocation?"

Snyder, undeterred, continued his diatribe against the tumultuous youth. "Someone's got to keep an eye on 'em. They're just a bunch of hormonal timebombs. Why, every time a pretty girl walks by, every boy turns into a jabbering fool."

But as Giles caught sight of a particular figure amidst the youthful throng, his demeanor shifted from exasperation to delight. His voice lit up with genuine excitement, an unexpected glimmer of affection breaking through. "Ms. Calendar!" he exclaimed, spotting Jenny Calendar walking past. Abandoning Snyder, he hastened towards her, his steps infused with a newfound enthusiasm.

"Mr. Giles," Jenny greeted him with a warm smile, her eyes meeting his.

Giles, usually composed and eloquent, found himself momentarily flustered by her presence. "Well, uh, dyeh, nnn, hello," he stammered, his usually precise words escaping him as they locked eyes.

Jenny's laughter filled the air as she sensed his discomfiture. "It's good to see you," she confessed, a soft sincerity in her voice.

Giles managed to regain some composure. "Yes," he agreed, relief evident in his tone. "Are you heading towards the faculty room?"

Jenny's playful spirit shone through as she responded, "That sounds like fun," her laughter lingering in the air as they headed into the building together.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Dawn walked into the school's offices; her eyes filled with curiosity as she scanned her new surroundings. As she stood at the counter, an older woman called to her from a desk, her kind demeanor contrasting with what was about to transpire.

"Good morning, young lady. What do you need today?" the woman inquired, her voice holding a hint of grandmotherly warmth.

Dawn took a deep breath and introduced herself, her voice reflecting a mixture of nervousness and hope. "Yes, my name is Dawn Summers. I'm starting today. Just moved to Sunnydale from Los Angeles, and..."

Startled, Dawn turned to face the source of the voice. The speaker was none other than Snyder, a figure whose reputation preceded him, and whose demeanor dripped with malice and contempt. Dawn had heard her sister Buffy, Willow, Xander, and even Giles complain about this man on numerous occasions.

Dawn, undaunted by his hostility, met his gaze and answered his question. "I am, why?"

With a steely determination, Dawn affirmed her relation, her eyes locked onto his as she replied, "I am, why?"

Snyder, ever dismissive, squinted at her and issued a thinly veiled threat. "I'm going to keep a sharp eye on you," he warned, the venom in his tone leaving no room for doubt. He then brushed past her, heading in the direction of his office, leaving Dawn to the dubious company of Mrs. Chambers, who was visibly unimpressed with his behavior.

Dawn couldn't help but mutter her thoughts under her breath, her voice tinged with a touch of sarcasm. "Well, he's a pleasant experience." Her words, seemingly intended for herself, didn't go unnoticed by Mrs. Chambers, who couldn't suppress a snort of amusement. "Sorry..."

Mrs. Chambers, her face softened by empathy, responded to Dawn's candid assessment of Snyder. "Oh no, I agree with you," she admitted with a weary sigh. "He's a bit prickly to deal with, I agree. Now, what did you say your name was?"

Dawn answered, her voice tinged with a hint of weariness from the countless times she'd had to introduce herself lately. "Dawn Summers, from Beverly Hills High."

Mrs. Chambers, dedicated to her task, quickly found Dawn in the system. She accessed the relevant information and paused, a puzzled look on her face as she noticed something unusual. "And here you are. Sophomore, coming from Beverly... I'll go ahead and print you a copy... oh. That's unusual." Her gaze shifted from the screen to Dawn, curiosity etched in her features. "In place of your parents' names and contact information, it has information on a law firm."

Dawn took a deep breath, a faint sadness flickering across her eyes. "Uh, yeah... I'm an emancipated orphan. My folks died, and, uh, my dad's boss looks out for me."

Mrs. Chambers nodded in understanding and compassion, then proceeded to provide Dawn with the necessary materials. She handed over a schedule, a booklet, and a few loose papers. "These extra things are the school guidebook, a map, your locker assignment, and the combination. And no, before you ask, you can't change the combination." She pointed out one specific sheet of paper. "This is the list of textbooks you'll need. You can get them from the library, which is right here." Her pen indicated the location on the map. "Our school librarian, Mr. Giles, will be happy to assist you, I'm sure. Oh, and one last thing." Mrs. Chambers retrieved a slip of paper and filled it out. "This is a pass for your first class, just in case you're late after getting your books."

Dawn smiled gratefully, already feeling more at ease in this unfamiliar environment. "Thanks, Mrs. Chambers. I appreciate it." She waved as she left the office, clutching the bundle of documents in her hand.

As she examined her class list, Dawn's thoughts raced through the subjects she would be tackling: Spanish, Trigonometry, World History, Lunch, English, Computer Science, and Sports and Recreational Games. She mentally assessed the challenges ahead. "Español debe ser fácil, ya que yo ya conozco el idioma a la perfección," she mused, her confidence in her language skills shining through. "Trig, on the other hand, is going to be a flaming, rabid bitch. I barely passed it the first time." She shrugged off the apprehension with a hint of determination. "Let's hope Willow is in that class. Sports and Recreational Games? Is that P.E.? Oh crap, I forgot to bring gym clothes!"

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

As Giles and Ms. Calendar strolled down the echoing hallways of Sunnydale High, their conversation turned to the topic of summer. Giles, typically reserved, inquired, "And how was your summer?"

Jenny's eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as she responded, "Extreme. I did Burning Man in Black Rock. It's such a great festival - you should have been there. There were drum rituals, naked mud-dances, raves, mobile sculptures, you would have just... hated it with a fiery passion."

Giles, ever the Englishman, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the vivid description. "Yes, I can't imagine finding any redeeming—" His words trailed off as he processed one particular detail. "Naked?"

Jenny, amused by his reaction, flashed a playful smile. "You probably spent all summer with your nose in a book."

Giles, finally regaining his composure, confessed, "Not the entire summer. The last few days, well, have been a definite change in pace."

Jenny's curiosity piqued, and she asked, "How?" Her tone was laced with anticipation, eager to hear about the transformation in his summer experience.

"We now actually have three Slayers," Giles explained, his voice carrying the weight of the revelation. "One of which was called when Buffy went to face the Master. The other," he hesitated for a moment, considering his words carefully, but trusting in Dawn's assessment of Jenny, "is from the future. In this time, she's Buffy's cousin. In the future she came from, she was Buffy's sister. She was called six years from now."

Jenny's response was one of genuine shock, her eyes widening as she tried to process this mind-boggling revelation. "Wow," she uttered, clearly taken aback. "Wait, you're pulling my leg, right?"

Giles shook his head, his expression somber. "I'm afraid not," he confirmed just as Xander, Willow, and Buffy approached, their presence injecting a fresh wave of energy into the conversation.

"Hey, Giles!" Willow greeted him with enthusiasm.

Xander, always the one for casual greetings, chimed in with a grin. "Hey, G-man! What's up?"

Giles, ever the stickler for formality, couldn't help but correct him with a hint of exasperation. "Nice to see you, and don't ever call me that," he replied, the affection beneath his stern exterior evident to those who knew him well.

Jenny greeted the group with a wave and a warm smile. "Hey, kids."

Willow couldn't contain her enthusiasm as she shared the latest news. "Buffy killed a vampire last night!"

Buffy, always the practical one, offered a gentle piece of advice. "Uh, I think you can get a little more volume if you speak from the diaphragm," she whispered, her words aimed at minimizing any unwanted attention from onlookers.

Willow, feeling a bit embarrassed, nodded sheepishly. "Sorry."

Jenny, curious and somewhat concerned, voiced her question. "We got vampires? I thought the Hellmouth was closed."

The response to her inquiry came from an unexpected source. A voice from behind the group piped up, capturing everyone's attention. They turned to see Dawn walking toward them, her presence adding another layer of mystery to the unfolding situation.

"No, not closed," Dawn replied with a hint of determination, her eyes reflecting an unwavering resolve. "And unless I can prevent it, it will never close."

Buffy's face lit up with a genuine smile as she hugged Dawn, who was both her sister and cousin, in a warm embrace. "Hey, Dawnie."

Dawn reciprocated the hug, and after their affectionate greeting, she turned to Ms. Calendar with a nod and a sly wink toward Giles. "Hello, Ms. Calendar," she said, acknowledging the budding connection between the two.

Giles, however, appeared preoccupied by the task at hand, his focus on the recent vampire activity. "This vampire—could you tell where he might be from?" he inquired, directing the conversation back to the matter at hand.

Buffy provided the details she had observed. "Local talent. Fresh. He was still wearing his funeral ensemble."

Dawn, trying to piece together the situation, furrowed her brow in deep thought. Unfortunately, her memory didn't yield any pertinent information about the recent vampire activity.

Giles, briefly lost in thought, finally turned his gaze back to Dawn, his concern evident in his eyes. He connected the dots between the recent encounters Dawn had faced and the emergence of a new vampire. "I should have been on top of this since you saw those for Friday night. They were likely here for some particular purpose..."

Dawn shook her head, a hint of frustration in her eyes. "Not one I can remember, sorry," she admitted. Her gaze shifted to Jenny, and she offered a friendly smile. "Giles probably already explained about me."

Jenny nodded in agreement. "He did," she confirmed, her expression conveying understanding.

Giles, understanding the need to gather more information, declared, "I have to consult my books."

Xander, ever the one to seize an opportunity, glanced at his watch and couldn't resist a bit of teasing. "Eight minutes and thirty-three seconds," he quipped before turning to Willow with a sly grin. "Pay up." Willow, somewhat begrudgingly, produced a dollar from her pocket. "I called ten minutes before you had to consult your books about something."

Willow, Xander, Dawn, and Buffy began to make their way toward their respective classes. Willow noted, "We better get to class."

Giles, however, had one more important matter to address. "Dawn, Buffy," he called after them. "We need to set up a training schedule for you both. I've already contacted Chloe, and she told me whatever works for the two of you."

Dawn nodded; her determination evident. "We'll see you after school." She suddenly remembered the need to acquire her books for her classes. "Oh yeah, I ought to come with you now. Need to get my books."

Giles agreed readily, offering his support. "Oh, yes, of course."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"May I help you?" The teacher's voice floated across the room, wrapped in a gentle yet authoritative tone that hinted at years of experience guiding curious minds. Her presence was marked by a certain quirkiness, embodied by her petite stature, fiery coppery locks, and oversized, bottle-bottom glasses that magnified her warm gaze. An air of mystery enveloped her, accentuated by the cadence of her speech, which bore traces of a foreign land; not quite Spanish, but evoking the spirit of distant shores.

"Uh, I hope so. I'm Dawn Summers. New student. Are you Mrs., um, is it Yarzagarai?" Dawn's words tumbled out in a mix of nerves and eagerness as she extended her pass towards the teacher, her heart racing with the anticipation of a fresh start. "Mrs. Chambers gave this to me, and I had Mr. Giles in the library co-sign it, since I had to go to him for my books. I, uh, could have been here sooner but I dropped my other books off at my locker," she explained, her voice tinged with a hint of apology.

"That's fine." The teacher's response was measured, her gaze briefly scanning the note before nodding in acknowledgment and setting it down on her cluttered desk with a soft thud. "Very good. And its pronounced 'Yar-za-GAIR-eye', not 'eye-ar-zuh-GARY'. But that was a good try. Most of the other students just call me Mrs. Yarza." A faint smile graced her lips, a glimmer of amusement dancing in her eyes as she welcomed Dawn into the fold. "Go ahead and take a seat. There's one next to Mr. Harris, who needs to try harder to stay awake."

With a sense of relief mingled with curiosity, Dawn made her way to the indicated seat, her eyes falling upon Xander, who was slumped in his chair, lost in the realm of sleep. His posture was relaxed, legs stretched out before him and head tilted back to its limit. Dawn couldn't suppress a mischievous grin as she nudged him gently on the shoulder. "Time to make the donuts, Xander."

In an instant, Xander jolted awake, his sudden movement causing a ripple of attention to sweep through the classroom. "No burlarse del miedo del demonio!" he blurted out, still caught in the haze between dreams and reality. His eyes darted around, momentarily disoriented, before landing on Dawn, who sat beside him with an impish glint in her eyes.

Dawn couldn't help but giggle at his confused response. "You okay?"

"Whahuh? Dawn?" Xander's voice was laced with confusion as he rubbed his eyes, oblivious to the fact that he had become the focal point of the entire class. "What are you doing here?"

"Hopefully paying more attention than you have been doing, Mr. Harris," Mrs. Yarza remarked, her words laced with a playful sarcasm that hinted at a long-standing rapport with her students. With a sardonic grin playing on her lips, she effortlessly commanded the attention of the room before turning her focus back to the task at hand. "So, now that we're all among the conscious, let's return to conjugations of the word 'escuchar'. David, why don't you give it a try?"

Dawn, seizing a moment of camaraderie, leaned toward Xander and whispered, her voice tinged with a hint of excitement. "I was hoping you'd be in at least one of my classes."

The pair turned their attention back to the lesson, but for Dawn, already fluent in the language, the material held little challenge. Instead, she found herself slipping into the role of an impromptu tutor for Xander, offering guidance and assistance as he navigated the intricacies of conjugation.

As the class drew to a close, and the bell signaled the end of the lesson, Xander and Dawn exited the classroom together, their conversation shifting to the subject of their eccentric instructor.

"So," Xander began, his tone reflective, "What do you think of Mrs. Yarza?"

"She seemed okay," Dawn replied with a casual shrug. "Not her fault I already know how to speak Spanish. I'm just taking the class for an easy A." Her assessment was pragmatic, tinged with a hint of nonchalance. "Although her accent is a bit strange."

"Yeah, definitely not the usual Mexican accent you hear around California," Xander mused, his brow furrowing in thought. "I think someone once told me she was from Europe. But not Spain, I mean. Somewhere else. Andro-something, I think."

"Andorra?" Dawn's voice held a note of curiosity, her eyebrows raised in speculation as she considered the possibility.

Xander offered a noncommittal shrug in response. "Maybe."

"That would explain the accent," Dawn mused, her tone thoughtful as she pieced together the puzzle. "The Basque version of Spanish is like, completely different from regular Spanish." Her words flowed with a hint of scholarly insight, a testament to her deep understanding of language and culture.

"I take it, you took Spanish in the future?" Xander inquired, his curiosity piqued by Dawn's apparent familiarity with the subject.

"I did, along with a few other languages," Dawn confirmed, a wistful smile playing at the corners of her lips. "If I had been able to go to college instead of being held captive by the First, I would have gotten a degree in Mythology and Ancient Languages."

"You could do that this time," Xander suggested optimistically, his gaze lingering on Dawn with unwavering support. "So, what's next for you?"

Dawn paused for a moment, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration. "Um. Trig, I think," she finally replied, her voice carrying a hint of uncertainty as she retrieved her crumpled schedule from the depths of her pocket.

With a curious tilt of his head, Xander leaned in, his interest piqued. "Trig, huh? With Mr. Lauder?"

"Yeah, Trig. With Mr. Lauder," Dawn confirmed, flipping open her schedule with practiced ease. Her finger traced along the rows of classes before landing on the designated slot. "Yep, here it is."

A chuckle escaped Xander's lips at her response. "Heh. Good luck with that. I've got Biology."

Dawn couldn't help but be intrigued by Xander's cryptic remark. "What does that mean? Good luck with that; what does that mean?" she pressed, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Xander adopted a thoughtful expression, his index finger tapping lightly against his chin in an exaggerated display of contemplation. "Well, how to put it," he began, his tone laced with amusement. "Mr. Lauder's a pretty good teacher, and a nice enough guy, but he's kind of old and he gets distracted pretty easily. If it's a pop quiz day, count on someone asking him about his experiences in the Korean War, at which point the class will switch from Trig to history."

A giggle bubbled up from within Dawn at the absurdity of the situation. "That's silly," she remarked, a smile dancing on her lips.

"But entertaining!" Xander countered with a grin of his own. "Anyway, I'd walk you to your locker, but I've got to stop by mine, and it's in the other direction. Let me see your schedule really quick?" he asked, reaching out for the slip of paper.

Dawn handed over her schedule, watching with mild interest as Xander studied it. "Okay, looks like we'll be seeing each other again at lunch and then in History and PE. And hey, you and Willow are both in Computer Science. She and Buffy are also in History and P.E with us," Xander pointed out, as he handed back the schedule.

Dawn's eyes widened with realization as she recalled her pressing dilemma. "Oh, hey... I don't suppose there's a place to buy, like, a school t-shirt and some gym shorts, is there?" she inquired, her voice tinged with a hint of urgency.

Xander's brows furrowed momentarily as he considered her question. "The shirt you can get at the school store. The shorts? I don't know. Check with one of the coaches. I've got to go that way," he replied, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the gymnasium before offering Dawn a brief smile.

"Okey doke. I'll see you at lunch. Wish me luck!" Dawn exclaimed, mustering up a wave of determination as she bid farewell to Xander. She watched as he disappeared into the throng of students, his figure blending seamlessly into the bustling sea of activity.

As fate would have it, the day unfolded into a dreaded pop-quiz scenario, much to the chagrin of Dawn and her classmates. True to Xander's foresight, the impending quiz was swiftly diverted from its intended course when a brave soul in the class seized the opportunity to derail it altogether.

With a sly grin and a strategic question, the unwitting hero steered the conversation away from trigonometry and plunged the classroom into a captivating discussion on history and politics. As Mr. Lauder, the affable yet easily distracted teacher, found himself ensnared in the intricacies of the Watergate Scandal and the enigmatic figure of Richard Nixon, the tension in the room eased, replaced by an air of intrigue and curiosity.

Students leaned forward in their seats, their pens poised forgotten as they absorbed every word, their minds transported to a bygone era of political intrigue and scandal. For Dawn, the unexpected detour provided a welcome reprieve from the complexities of trigonometric functions, offering instead a glimpse into the rich tapestry of American history.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

It took Dawn longer than usual to retrieve her World History book from her locker, the minutes slipping away unnoticed until the shrill ring of the bell shattered the quiet of the hallway. With a sense of urgency, she hurried towards her classroom, her heart sinking as she realized she would be arriving just as class was beginning. Fate, it seemed, had a mischievous sense of timing, for it placed her squarely next to Cordelia Chase, a figure both infamous and intimidating within the high school hierarchy.

As Dawn settled into her seat, she found herself subjected to Cordelia's piercing gaze, the scrutiny laced with a thinly veiled disdain that sent a shiver down her spine. The air around Cordelia crackled with arrogance and entitlement, her words dripping with venom as she addressed her clique with a mocking smirk.

"Oh look, the new Girl," Cordelia announced with a flourish, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. "One would think someone from Beverly Hills would know better than to hang around with the freaks and the losers. Guess you're just not 90120 material."

Dawn bristled at the thinly veiled insult, her patience wearing thin in the face of Cordelia's haughty demeanor. Though she had never met Cordelia in person before, she had heard enough tales from Buffy, Xander, and Willow to form a vivid picture of the notorious queen bee. The conflicting accounts painted Cordelia as both a figure of admiration and revulsion, her reputation as a fearless ally juxtaposed with her penchant for cruelty and manipulation.

Dawn squared her shoulders, her gaze steady as she met Cordelia's scrutinizing stare head-on. "You're Cordelia Chase, right?" she asked, her voice deceptively calm despite the rising tide of indignation within her.

Cordelia's lips curved into a smirk, her demeanor oozing with arrogance as she responded, "You've heard of me?"

Dawn resisted the urge to roll her eyes, the stench of Cordelia's shallow arrogance permeating the air like a noxious cloud. Summoning her courage, she delivered her retort with a cool precision that left the room stunned into silence. "Oh, sure! You see, I asked this kid outside of the office how to find the most popular girl in school, and he said all I'd have to do is look around for the most arrogant, self-centered, selfish back-stabbing slut-faced ho-bag around. He also mentioned how you'd be wearing far too much badly applied makeup and would be perfumed like a French whore-house. But now that I've met you, I think he was mistaken. Your makeup isn't badly applied at all."

A ripple of shock swept through the classroom; the stunned silence broken only by the sound of Dawn's words hanging in the air like a damning verdict.

"Did – did you just say there was something wrong with my makeup?" Cordelia's voice quivered with disbelief, her eyes widening to the size of saucers as she struggled to comprehend the audacity of Dawn's remark.

Dawn's lips curved into a serene smile, her expression a picture of innocent nonchalance as she met Cordelia's incredulous gaze head-on. "Sure. If that's all you got out of what I just said, take it and run with it. Why not," she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm veiled beneath a veneer of polite indifference.

The tension in the air thickened as Cordelia bristled at Dawn's casual dismissal, her pride wounded by the unexpected jab. Before she could formulate a response, however, the voice of their history teacher, Miss Rossdale, cut through the growing tension like a knife.

"If you girls are finished talking about whatever it is you are talking about, I'd like to get back to the subject of the Middle Ages," Miss Rossdale interjected, her tone firm as she redirected the focus of the class back to the lesson at hand. Her gaze lingered pointedly on Cordelia and Dawn, a silent reminder of the need for decorum in the classroom.

With a sense of satisfaction simmering beneath her composed exterior, Dawn turned her attention back to the blackboard, her focus trained on the list of facts detailing the intricacies of medieval history. Ignoring Cordelia's fuming presence beside her, she immersed herself in the lesson, her determination to excel undeterred by the drama unfolding around her.

For the remainder of the class, Dawn maintained a steadfast indifference towards Cordelia, her apparent disinterest serving as a subtle yet effective barrier against the other girl's attempts at provocation. And as the minutes ticked by, Dawn found herself surprisingly engaged in the subject matter, her boredom dissipating in the wake of her newfound focus.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Dawn and Xander navigated through the bustling cafeteria line, trays in hand, weaving between students and trays of food as they made their way to join Willow and Buffy at their usual spot. The clatter of trays and the hum of conversation filled the air, creating a lively atmosphere that was quintessentially high school.

As they settled into their seats, Dawn and Xander couldn't help but notice the impressive array of food laid out before them. It was a sight that would have surprised them if they hadn't known Dawn's secret—that she, too, was a Slayer, endowed with the same enhanced metabolism as Buffy. Dawn's tray, piled high with an assortment of dishes, stood as a testament to the insatiable hunger that came with her newfound strength.

Taking a bite of her lunch, Dawn broached a topic that had been weighing on her mind. "You know, Buffy," she began, her voice carrying a note of curiosity, "one thing I never got used to was the amount of food I have to eat now."

Buffy nodded in understanding; her own tray laden with a generous portion of food. "I know what you mean," she replied, sympathy evident in her expression.

Seizing the opportunity to address a lingering question, Dawn turned to Buffy with a furrowed brow. "Which reminds me, Buffy, why didn't you warn me about H and H?"

Buffy's confusion was palpable as she searched her memory for any indication of what Dawn was referring to. "H and H?" she echoed, seeking clarification.

Leaning in closer, Dawn lowered her voice to a whisper, her words intended for Buffy's ears alone. "Hungry and horny. You know, after slaying," she explained, her tone tinged with a hint of mischief.

Buffy couldn't help but splutter in response, her cheeks flushing crimson as she glanced nervously around the crowded cafeteria. "I think that's a discussion for somewhere else, definitely not here," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper as she sought to divert attention away from their conversation.

Dawn, unable to contain her mischievous grin, readily agreed with a nod of understanding. Sensing Buffy's discomfort, she reached out to rub her sister's back in a comforting gesture, a silent reassurance that she was there for her no matter what. It was a small but meaningful gesture, an unspoken acknowledgment of their bond as sisters and Slayers alike.

Touched by Dawn's display of empathy, Buffy felt a warmth spread through her chest, dispelling the lingering unease that had settled within her. With a grateful smile, she met Dawn's gaze, the silent exchange conveying more than words ever could.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

After the bustling lunch period, Dawn made her way to her next class, English, expecting to delve into the intricacies of grammar or perhaps engage in a lively discussion about contemporary literature. However, to her surprise, she found herself thrust into the world of poetry, specifically the works of T.S. Eliot.

As the teacher delved into one of Eliot's renowned poems, "The Hollow Men," Dawn's initial excitement waned, replaced by a sense of disappointment. The poem, with its somber themes of post-war disillusionment and existential angst, failed to capture her interest. Despite acknowledging the depth of its premise and the skillful wordplay woven throughout, Dawn found the overall tone to be dull and lifeless—a stark reflection, perhaps, of the bleak reality faced by British veterans returning from the battlefields of World War I.

As she listened to the teacher dissect the poem line by line, Dawn couldn't shake the feeling of detachment that settled over her. While she understood the importance of studying such seminal works of literature, she couldn't help but yearn for something more engaging, something that resonated with her on a deeper level.

Yet, even as she struggled to find enthusiasm for Eliot's poetry, Dawn couldn't deny the underlying significance of "The Hollow Men." In its exploration of the human condition and the struggles of reintegration after war, the poem served as a poignant reminder of the enduring impact of conflict on individuals and society as a whole.

With a resigned sigh, Dawn conceded that perhaps the poem's lackluster quality was intentional—a reflection of the hollow existence experienced by its protagonists. And though she may not have fully appreciated it in the moment, she knew that such works of literature held valuable lessons waiting to be unearthed, even if they required a bit of patience and perseverance to uncover.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Computer Science class brought Dawn back into contact with Willow, who was, despite her statements of the night before, friendly and helpful, if slightly snarkish. The fact that Cordelia and two of her brown-nosing followers, Harmony and Aura, were also in the class was just the cherry on top. It felt like navigating a minefield of personalities, with each interaction adding a layer of complexity to Dawn's day.

But then there was Miss Calendar, the class's teacher. Her presence was a bittersweet reminder, for Dawn had only heard stories of the teacher who had tragically passed away just this year. Jenny seemed likeable enough, with a warm demeanor that contrasted the somber air that lingered in Dawn's mind. She was adept at guiding students through the intricacies of the school's computers, yet beneath her helpful exterior, there was a subtle air of knowing.

Dawn couldn't shake the thought that Miss Calendar held secrets, perhaps even knowledge of the supernatural realm that lurked beneath Sunnydale's surface. The way she casually mentioned Angel, Buffy's vampire ex-lover, hinted at a deeper understanding of the town's eerie happenings. Dawn couldn't help but wonder if Miss Calendar held the key to altering fate, to preventing the tragic events that had unfolded.

"Ms. Summers, are you paying attention?" Miss Calendar's voice cut through Dawn's thoughts, pulling her back to reality.

Dawn blinked and startled at her desk, realizing she had missed a question by zoning out. "Sorry about that," she said sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up her cheeks.

"Try not to let it happen too often. Now, if you would all..." Miss Calendar's voice trailed off as she resumed her lesson, but Dawn's mind was elsewhere. She knew what she needed to do, and it involved talking to Jenny after class.

The second time, Dawn came out of her mental reverie she was quick enough to catch the question. "You need to close the brackets to end the agreement," she responded.

"Very good. See what paying attention in class can do for you?" Miss Calendar turned toward another student and asked them a question, leaving Dawn to her thoughts. The weight of the information she carried felt heavy as she sat there, her mind swirling with questions and uncertainties.

When the bell rang, Dawn waited for everyone to exit the classroom, then she closed the door, the sound echoing in the now empty room. "Miss Calendar," she began, her voice carrying a mix of determination and trepidation.

"Yes, Miss Summers?" Jenny replied, turning to face her with a gentle yet inquisitive gaze.

"Dawn, please," said Dawn, a slight tremor in her voice betraying her nerves. "Giles, I believe explained about my being from the future?"

"He did," Jenny answered, her expression giving away nothing of her thoughts or emotions.

"I know that you are Romani and that your real name is Janna Kalderash," said Dawn, her words coming out in a rush, as if she needed to get them out before she lost her nerve. "That you came here to watch Angel because of what he did to your family a hundred years ago. I also know the clause of his curse."

"You know the clause in his curse?" said Jenny, her voice laced with disbelief at the revelation that Dawn knew the clause in Angel's curse when even she didn't know that.

"Yes. One moment of true happiness," said Dawn, her tone resolute. "I plan to talk to Buffy and Angel and let them know, before Buffy has sex with him."

Jenny's mind raced with the implications of Dawn's words. The fate of not just Buffy and Angel but potentially the entire town hung in the balance. "I take it that something bad happens after that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to acknowledge the inevitable darkness that potentially loomed ahead.

"Yes," said Dawn, her voice carrying the weight of the tragedies she hoped to prevent. "Angel loses his soul, becomes Angelus, and then for the remainder of the school year torments Buffy. He also kills you, because you find the spell to restore his soul."

Jenny's heart skipped a beat at the mention of her own demise, her mind struggling to comprehend the grim reality of her fate. "I die, sometime in the coming year?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

"Not if I can help it," declared Dawn, her resolve unwavering as she met Jenny's gaze with unwavering determination. "By telling Buffy and Angel about the clause, then hopefully they won't have sex and Angel won't lose his soul. Averting your death. Then you and Giles can have that relationship you were denied."

"Rupert and I?" Jenny said, her voice carrying a hint of surprise mingled with a touch of longing.

"Buffy attended your funeral, told me about it later," explained Dawn, her words tinged with a bittersweet sadness. "Buffy said that Giles gave a very moving speech. After you died, he became a lifelong bachelor. I think he had a couple of female friends, but no one else came into his life permanently afterwards. I had promised myself not to get involved, except Buffy to steer her clear of some of the worst and Xander to make sure he actually gets married this time, with relationships. But I don't want Giles to be lonely."

Jenny's heart ached at the thought of Giles carrying the weight of loneliness after her passing. She had always cherished their time together, and the idea of him living a solitary existence tore at her soul. "Thank you," she said with a sigh, her gratitude evident in her weary tone. "Thank you for telling me, all of it."

"You're welcome," Dawn said softly, her voice filled with empathy as she turned to leave the classroom.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Dawn had managed to buy a school t-shirt, a garish mustard yellow affair adorned with a crimson pig on the front, and a pair of equally unappealing gym shorts. The shorts, a vibrant red with yellow piping, matched the colors of the t-shirt in a clash of hues that screamed "school spirit" in the most eye-searing way possible. Nevertheless, with her attire sorted, Dawn found herself thrust into the world of physical education, surrounded by familiar faces like Willow, Xander, and her ever-watchful sister, Buffy.

As the class dove into a game of volleyball, Dawn found herself swept up in the competitive spirit, the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she joined her teammates on the court. Despite her petite frame, she possessed a surprising amount of strength, and it wasn't long before she caught the attention of her peers with her impressive athleticism. With each powerful spike and nimble maneuver, Dawn quickly became the talk of the class, her skill on full display for all to see.

"Dawn," whispered Buffy, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the game as she stood beside her sister, concern etched into her features. "Careful. Need to rein in your strength."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

That afternoon in the library, Buffy and Dawn found themselves engaged in a playful yet intense sparring session. The room echoed with the rhythmic sound of their movements, the clatter of their footsteps mingling with the occasional thud of impact as fists met flesh.

Dawn could hear Buffy's steady panting, a testament to the exertion of their impromptu bout. As Buffy shifted her weight, Dawn couldn't help but tease her sister, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "Getting tired, Buffy?" she quipped, her amusement evident in her voice as she assumed her stance, knees bent, fists raised in front of her in a defensive posture.

Buffy returned her sister's teasing with a faint smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she countered, "You wish," before flashing Dawn a mocking wink. "Come get me, Dawnie."

With a burst of determination, Dawn surged forward, her movements fluid as she launched a barrage of punches at Buffy. But Buffy was quick to react, her arms moving in a blur as she deftly blocked each strike with practiced ease.

"Come on, little sis. You're losing your speed," taunted Buffy, her words punctuated by the sound of their sparring.

Dawn huffed in response, her competitive spirit fueling her determination to prove herself. "Little? I'm taller than you," she shot back, a grin spreading across her face despite the intensity of their bout.

"Well maybe I'm not done growing yet," laughed Buffy, her voice light with amusement as she playfully taunted her sister. With a swift movement, she dipped down and swung her leg across Dawn's ankles, sending her tumbling backward before deftly hopping back onto her feet. Buffy wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, her focus sharpening as she prepared for another round with Dawn.

As Dawn regained her footing, Buffy darted away, dodging her sister's retaliatory strikes with ease. With practiced precision, Buffy seized Dawn's arm and effortlessly swung her over her head, the momentum sending Dawn crashing down onto the mat that Giles had laid out for their training.

Buffy loomed over Dawn, a triumphant grin spreading across her features as she declared, "I won that one."

"You got lucky," retorted Dawn, her competitive spirit undimmed as she pushed herself up from the mat with determination blazing in her eyes.

Buffy jumped back with a graceful leap, landing on her feet with a grin. "Buffy... Dawn..." Giles's voice interrupted their banter, drawing their attention as they turned to face him. "I think that's enough," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "Safe to say, you both are in great shape."

"No idea about Buffy," quipped Dawn, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "But I had plenty of time over the last five years to train and tone my body."

Buffy rolled her eyes affectionately at her sister's playful boast. "Show off," she teased, a smile playing at the corners of her lips as she regarded Dawn with pride.

September 16, 1997 – Tuesday

Dawn's Dreamscape

Buffy and Dawn settled onto the worn cushions of the couch in the school lounge, the low murmur of conversation and occasional clatter of dishes providing a comforting backdrop to their quiet moment. As they made themselves comfortable, Willow and Xander approached, their familiar faces breaking into smiles as they joined the sisters on the opposite side of the coffee table.

"Hey," greeted Xander, his voice warm with familiarity as he settled into his seat.

"Hey," replied Dawn, returning the greeting with a nod. Sensing a subtle shift in Buffy's demeanor, she cast a concerned glance at her sister, noting the distant look in Buffy's eyes. "Buffy?" she questioned softly, her voice laced with gentle concern.

"I'm fine! I'm fine!" Buffy's response was a touch too quick, a forced cheerfulness underlying her words as she glanced around the room, avoiding Dawn's gaze.

"Good. It's good that you're fine," chimed in Xander, though his expression betrayed a hint of skepticism at Buffy's insistence.

Curiosity piqued, Willow leaned forward, her eyes fixed on Buffy with genuine concern. "What were you thinking about?" she asked, her tone gentle yet probing as she sought to unravel the mystery behind Buffy's distant demeanor.

"Nothing," said Buffy, her voice devoid of any trace of emotion as she brushed off their inquiries with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Come on, you can tell us! We're your bosom friends. The friends of your bosom," Xander interjected with a playful grin, his attempt at lightening the mood met with a collective eye roll from Dawn and Willow.

"Xander..." Dawn and Willow chimed in unison, shaking their heads at his antics.

"I wasn't thinking anything. Really. Did I have think-face? 'Cause there was nothing going on," Buffy insisted, her tone growing slightly defensive as she pushed back against their persistent questioning.

Undeterred, Dawn pressed on, her curiosity getting the better of her as she leaned in closer. "What'd you do last night?" she asked, her voice laced with a mixture of concern and intrigue.

"Slept," replied Buffy, her response short and to the point. "Had weird dreams. I can't really remember them. I just know they were all over the place."

"Dreams are meaningful," declared Xander, his tone serious as he leaned forward, his eyes scanning each of his friends in turn, as if searching for validation.

"They sure are. The other night I dreamt that Xander—" began Willow, her words trailing off as she shot a quick glance at Xander, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Uh, it wasn't Xander. In fact, it wasn't me. It was a friend's dream, and they don't remember it."

Dawn couldn't suppress a laugh at Willow's awkward attempt to backtrack, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she teased, "I'll bet they don't."

Their lighthearted banter was interrupted by the sight of Giles approaching, his brow furrowed with concern. Buffy and Dawn exchanged a quick glance before rising from the couch to meet him, a sense of anticipation hanging in the air as they awaited his news.

"What's the buzz? You look worried?" Buffy inquired; her voice tinged with concern as she studied Giles's troubled expression.

"This vampire activity – I think I know what they're up to," replied Giles, his words cutting through the tension like a knife.

"Well, don't stress. We'll deal. Right, Dawn?" said Buffy, her voice laced with determination as she turned to her sister, seeking reassurance in the face of uncertainty.

"Right, Buffy," replied Dawn, echoing her sister's resolve as she met Buffy's gaze with unwavering determination.

"I hope it's that simple," Giles interjected, his tone grave as he wrestled with the weight of their impending confrontation with the vampires.

"It is not to sweat. Trust me," Buffy reassured, her confidence unwavering as she sought to bolster Giles's spirits.

But Giles's expression remained grim as he revealed the true depth of his concern. "I don't know. I mean, I killed one Slayer. Two shouldn't be too difficult to do it again," he admitted, his words sending a chill down Buffy and Dawn's spines.

"What?" Buffy and Dawn exclaimed in unison, their confusion mounting as they struggled to comprehend Giles's cryptic statement.

Without warning, Giles lashed out, his fist connecting with Dawn's jaw with a force that sent her sprawling backward, crashing onto the coffee table with a resounding thud. Before she could recover, Giles was upon her, his hands closing around her throat with a vice-like grip. Panic surged through Dawn as she fought to break free, her eyes widening in terror as she clawed desperately at Giles's face, her nails tearing at his skin.

In a moment of sheer terror, Dawn managed to rip away what she thought was Giles's face, revealing the grotesque visage of the Master lurking beneath the facade.

Summers & Harris Residence

Dawn stirred from her sleep, her senses slowly coming alive to the persistent ringing of her cell phone. With a groan, she reached out to silence the intrusive noise, her mind still foggy with sleep. But as the phone continued to ring, Dawn's grogginess gave way to confusion and a tinge of anxiety.

"What in the heck? I thought I was over her dying," she muttered to herself, the memory of past losses casting a shadow over her thoughts. With a resigned sigh, she finally picked up the phone, her voice tinged with irritation as she answered, "Hello?"

"Dawn?" came Buffy's voice from the other end of the line, the urgency in her tone cutting through the late-night haze.

"Buffy, what is it?" Dawn questioned, her concern growing as she sensed the tension in her sister's voice.

"I just had a visit from Angel. He said the Anointed One was gathering forces somewhere in town. He wasn't sure why. Do you know anything?" Buffy explained, her words rushed with a sense of urgency.

"Sorry, Buffy," Dawn replied with a weary sigh, her frustration mounting as she struggled to recall any pertinent information. "You have to remember for at least the next couple of years you didn't tell me much."

"Right," Buffy acknowledged with a heavy sigh, the weight of their shared history hanging heavily between them. "Dawn, did you dream?" she asked, her voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

"The Master?" Dawn's voice wavered with a mixture of disbelief and dread. "Appearing to be Giles? Then I clawed off his face?"

"My dream was about him but different. It was me clawing off Giles' face to reveal the Master's face," Buffy revealed, her tone heavy with uncertainty as she grappled with the implications of their shared visions. "What do you think this means that we had similar dreams but different?"

"I'm not sure," admitted Dawn, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of the unsettling connection between their dreams. "It could be the Slayer trying to tell us something. I don't know, though. But I think we need to find out."

As Dawn pondered their next steps, she felt her phone buzz in her hand, a distraction from the weight of their conversation. "Ooh, I'm getting another call. Probably Chloe due to the late hour."

"Tell her I said hi," Buffy interjected, her voice carrying a note of warmth amidst the uncertainty.

"I will," promised Dawn as she ended the call with Buffy and answered the incoming call. "Chloe?"

"I didn't wake you, did I?" Chloe's voice floated through the phone, laced with concern.

"No, I just finished talking with Buffy, who said to tell you hi," Dawn replied, her voice tinged with warmth as she relayed Buffy's greeting.

"That's sweet. So, what were you two talking about?" Chloe inquired; her curiosity piqued as she listened intently.

"We both had a similar but slightly different dream. From what I gather, the endings were what was different. In mine, I clawed off Giles' face to reveal the Master. In hers, it was she who did it," Dawn explained, her words measured as she recounted the eerie details of their shared nightmare.

"Interesting," mused Chloe, her voice thoughtful as she considered the implications of their disturbing dreams. "It could be repressed trauma on both your parts. Being back in this time shortly after when you originally watched her drowned. Could have brought the trauma back to the surface after you long thought you buried it."

Dawn furrowed her brow, the pieces of the puzzle slowly starting to come together in her mind. "The thing about that is the Giles slash Master in the dream said something about it shouldn't be any more difficult to kill two Slayers, compared to just Buffy," she added, her tone troubled as she grappled with the implications of their shared nightmare.

"I expect it's still a case of repressed trauma, Dawn," Chloe offered, her voice gentle yet firm. "You did, after all, see Buffy die. Even if it was only for a minute and the first time you saw that you were only ten, you wouldn't have known how to handle that. Now that the trauma has resurfaced, your brain is trying to rationalize it. That's why in the dream, he mentioned killing you because your brain knows you're a Slayer. If you were still the age Marie is, I doubt that line would have been spoken."

"Maybe," replied Dawn with a heavy sigh, her thoughts still swirling with uncertainty. "But that doesn't explain why Buffy's and my dreams were similar. The only difference was the person clawing off Giles' face."

"That part does have me stumped," Chloe admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of frustration as she grappled with the mysterious nature of their shared dreams. "It is possible that you both may have had a prophetic dream. I recommend in the morning, bringing this to Giles' attention. He can look into it till I return on Saturday."

"Okay," Dawn acquiesced, her mind already racing with the implications of Chloe's suggestion.

"Now, the main reason I am calling, I checked on that name for you," Chloe continued, her tone shifting as she moved on to the next topic of discussion. "The Council has no records of a potential by the name you gave me. I used some personal contacts within the American government and checked. She doesn't exist. This could be a case of possibly different timelines going along different tangents."

"That doesn't make sense though," Dawn interjected, her brow furrowing in confusion. "She would already have been born before the timeline would have split as a result of my arrival."

"It's possible that the wish that brought you back changed other things not directly connected to you. After all, you were inserted into your cousin's family," Chloe explained patiently, her voice calm as she offered her insight. "To do that would have to include modifying reality; otherwise, when you arrived, you wouldn't have had everything you do now."

"Maybe," Dawn replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she absorbed Chloe's information. "Thanks for checking, Chloe."

"You're welcome," Chloe responded warmly. "I will call again Friday morning, my time. Which should be late Thursday night for you. I will tell you then exactly when my flight is leaving. Good night, Dawn."

"Good morning, Chloe," Dawn quipped in return, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips as she heard a chuckle from the other end of the phone before she disconnected the call.

Placing the phone on her bedside table, Dawn took a deep breath, her mind still buzzing with questions and concerns. With a determined set to her jaw, she whispered the incantation that would summon D'Hoffryn, the demon who held the answers she sought.

"I am not granting you another wish," D'Hoffryn's voice echoed through the room as he materialized behind Dawn, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her.

Dawn whirled around to face the vengeance demon, her resolve unwavering as she met his gaze. "I need to know something. It's kind of future info related. And other than myself, you are now the only one who remembers the other timeline. I need to know about August. Please, I just need to know more about her. Apparently, she doesn't exist here."

"Very well, you will owe me a favor," D'Hoffryn declared, his voice dripping with the weight of their impending agreement. "August never knew the truth of her origins. Willow lied to her and you. The name Willow gave you was made up, for August's benefit mostly. You see, the ancient magics that Willow used did not activate a potential. The ancient magics she used were the same ones used in your creation. They created a daughter who happened to also be a Slayer. Your daughter, in fact."

"My daughter?" Dawn's voice trembled with disbelief, her hand instinctively flying to her mouth in shock. "I killed my daughter."

D'Hoffryn observed Dawn's anguished expression, the weight of her realization bearing down on her like a heavy burden. With a heavy heart, he reluctantly nodded, understanding the depth of her pain. With a wave of his hand, he enacted his magic, a solemn expression etched on his features as Dawn's stomach began to stretch out, a visible manifestation of the life growing within her.

"She is yours again," D'Hoffryn affirmed, his voice softening with a rare hint of empathy. "I have also modified the wish. Mark and Lyssa Summers were on their way home when their plane crashed, as you had revealed to them your pregnancy."

As the gravity of his words sank in, Dawn felt a surge of conflicting emotions wash over her—grief, guilt, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility. She knew that her actions had consequences, ones that she would carry with her for the rest of her life. But in this moment, as the weight of her daughter's existence settled upon her, Dawn vowed to do whatever it took to protect and cherish the life growing within her.

D'Hoffryn's form wavered before disappearing in a swirl of fiery demonic energy, leaving Dawn alone with her thoughts and the weight of her newfound reality.

Sunnydale High School

"Dawn?" Buffy's voice broke through the chatter, drawing her attention as she spotted Dawn approaching, her swollen belly a clear indication of her pregnancy. Buffy was the first of her and Willow to notice, her expression a mix of surprise and concern.

"I found some information out last night after you called," Dawn replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of relief and sadness. "I had asked Chloe before she left to look into August for me. Apparently, August never existed. I'm not going into the details of how I killed a girl who had never existed, at least not yet. But I called D'Hoffryn, not to make a wish, just to ask a question. He revealed everything about August. I even owe him a favor now, for he gave August to me to raise. The reason for my parents' deaths was changed to recognize my pregnancy. They were now flying home after I revealed over the phone to them, I was pregnant."

"I guess congratulations are in order then," Buffy said, her voice soft with emotion as she enveloped her sister in a warm hug, a silent acknowledgment of the bittersweet nature of the news.

"I'm going to change her name," Dawn continued, her voice determined as she shared her decision. "To something I want to give her. Her nickname, if we want, can be August, but her birth name will be Elizabeth Celia Summers. Named so after both my original sister and my sister in this timeline."

"Elizabeth?" Willow's voice held a hint of confusion as she glanced between Dawn and Buffy.

"While my name is actually Buffy, it's what's on my birth certificate," Buffy explained, her tone gentle as she clarified. "I learned a couple of years ago that it can also be used as a nickname for Elizabeth."

"Oh! Hey! Did you guys know? Cibo Matto is gonna be at The Bronze tonight," Xander exclaimed, his excitement palpable as he shared the news with the group. However, his enthusiasm quickly waned as his gaze shifted to Dawn, more specifically her pregnant belly, prompting a moment of awkward silence.

"I'm going to have to tell Giles, so you can come along and listen. I don't want to have to have this conversation more than three times," Dawn interjected, her voice tinged with a hint of weariness as she addressed Xander. "Buffy, Willow, Giles, you, and Chloe. Since I told Buffy and Willow, you would be second, Xander, with Giles and finally Chloe when she returns."

"Okay," Xander agreed, his expression solemn as he absorbed the weight of Dawn's words.

"Cibo Matto?" Willow's eyes lit up with excitement. "They're playing?"

"No, Willow, they'll be clog-dancing," Xander retorted sarcastically, his tone laced with dry humor.

"Cibo Matto can clog-dance?" Willow's brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before realization dawned on her. "Oh, sarcasm. Right."

"We should attend, no?" Xander's question hung in the air as he glanced between Buffy and Dawn, a hopeful expression on his face. "If you two are not busy with fighting or anything."

"Well, I'm not going to be fighting much," Dawn replied with a wry smile, her hand instinctively resting on her burgeoning belly. "For the next couple of weeks probably. I expect I'm close to being due," she added, a hint of anticipation coloring her words. "But it sounds like fun."

"Dawn's right," Buffy chimed in, her own excitement evident as she considered the prospect of a night out at The Bronze. However, her attention was diverted as Cordelia approached them, her presence a reminder of the complexities of their lives.

"I probably ought to go tell Giles about this," Dawn announced, her tone tinged with a hint of concern. "He's likely to flip." With a determined stride, she turned towards the library, her mind already racing with the implications of their conversation. "Chloe also recommended that I tell Giles about our dream," she added, casting a meaningful glance back at Buffy.

Buffy nodded reluctantly, her thoughts swirling with a mixture of apprehension and determination as she watched Dawn and Xander walk off.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

A few minutes later, Dawn and Xander found themselves in the library, where Giles awaited them, his gaze fixed on Dawn as he polished his glasses with a thoughtful expression.

"Tell me you didn't wish for this to happen," Giles said, his tone grave as he broached the delicate subject of Dawn's pregnancy.

"No, it was a gift," Dawn replied, her voice steady despite the weight of the conversation. "The child I now carry is the young woman I killed. I owe D'Hoffryn a favor, but I did not wish for it. That said, I'm happy it did happen. One thing I wanted to do was make August's life better since I was the reason she died in the future."

Giles sighed heavily, his features creased with concern as he replaced his glasses upon his nose. "You will have to tell Chloe, you know," he reminded her gently, his voice tinged with a note of solemnity.

"I know," Dawn acknowledged, her expression reflecting the gravity of the situation. "She is going to be calling Thursday night to let me know the details on her flight back. Though I am tempted to wait till Saturday so she can actually see me. You know, this will give me something to fight for not only..."

"Buffy, Willow, myself, and our friends in the future," Xander interjected, his voice filled with understanding as he finished Dawn's thought.

Giles pondered Dawn's words for a moment, his brow furrowing with concern as he considered the implications of her revelation. It was clear that Dawn's pregnancy had brought about a newfound sense of purpose, a reason to continue fighting even after fulfilling her duties to safeguard the future.

"There is one other thing, Giles," Dawn continued, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Buffy and I both had a dream last night. They were the same with one change. In my dream, you attacked me and I clawed off your face to reveal the Master underneath. In Buffy's dream, she was the one to claw off your face. Chloe thought for me it could be possibly trauma coming back to the surface from..."

"When Buffy died," Xander interjected, his voice solemn as he completed Dawn's sentence, the weight of their shared past hanging heavy in the air.

"Yes," Dawn sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly with the weight of her memories. "The thing is, if it was just my trauma trying to resurface from eleven years ago, why would Buffy have the same dream with only one change?"

"It very well could have been potentially both," Giles admitted, his tone thoughtful as he considered the possibilities. "You both are holding in trauma from that day. So is Marie. At Joyce's request, I have been counseling your younger self. That said, it is possible that this was prophetic at the same time. What they could be foretelling, I do not know. I will look into it."

Factory

Cordelia stood frozen in fear as she found herself trapped in the dimly lit cellar, her heart pounding in her chest with each passing moment. The vampires had brought her down the creaky steps and thrust her into the darkness before retreating and sealing the door shut behind them.

As her eyes struggled to adjust to the gloom, Cordelia's gaze darted around the room, her senses on high alert as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. Her breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of a figure lying motionless on the ground. With trembling hands, she took a hesitant step forward, her heart sinking as she recognized the battered and bruised form of Jenny Calendar.

"Ms. Calendar? Oh God..." Cordelia's voice wavered with a mixture of horror and concern as she knelt beside the injured woman, her eyes wide with shock. She reached out to gently nudge Jenny's shoulder, but the only response was a pained groan.

Panic surged through Cordelia as she glanced around the darkened cellar, her mind racing with fear and uncertainty. In a voice barely above a whisper, she voiced the question that echoed in her mind. "What do they want?"

Streets of Sunnydale

Dawn gripped the steering wheel tightly as she navigated the streets toward The Bronze, the excitement of the evening ahead momentarily overshadowed by the weight of her sister's touch on her arm. Glancing over at Buffy, she furrowed her brow in concern at the urgency in her sister's voice.

"What?" Dawn's voice was tinged with confusion as she turned her attention to Buffy, her foot easing off the accelerator as she prepared to heed her sister's request.

"Pull over," Buffy said, her tone urgent as she gestured toward the side of the road.

Responding instinctively to her sister's command, Dawn guided the car to a stop, her heart racing with apprehension as Buffy swiftly exited the vehicle and darted toward a nearby willow tree. Following closely behind, Dawn's eyes widened in shock as she caught sight of the disturbed earth and the empty grave beneath the shadow of the tree.

"Well, I think I know what the dream meant," Buffy declared, her voice tinged with dread as she turned to face her sister. "The Master's coming back." The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, the implications of the empty grave sinking in with chilling clarity.

"He's dead. Tell me he can't be coming back," Buffy pleaded, her eyes searching Dawn's for reassurance in the face of the looming threat.

"I can't," Dawn admitted, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to find the right words to convey the gravity of the situation. "Remember, there are holes in my memory because..."

"I didn't tell you everything," Buffy finished for her sister, her expression grim as she met Dawn's gaze with a sense of grim resolve. "We should go see Giles." With a shared nod of understanding, the sisters turned back toward the car.

September 17, 1997 – Wednesday

Sunnydale High

Giles stood amidst the bustling school lounge, engaged in conversation with Willow and Xander, who had expressed their concerns for Buffy and Dawn. His brow furrowed in contemplation as he pondered the complexities of their shared experiences.

"I admit they likely have what you Americans refer to as 'issues,'" Giles remarked, his tone tinged with a mixture of understanding and concern. "Their experience with the Master, given what I have experienced with Marie, was extremely traumatic. Buffy was, for at least a few minutes, legally dead. And Dawn, or Marie, watched it happen, depending on which timeline we're talking about. I don't think Buffy's dealt with it on a conscious level. And I highly doubt that Dawn dealt with it at all, given that when she went through it, she was ten years old. And that was a decade ago from her point of view."

Xander, ever the master of distraction, seized upon Giles's words with an impromptu comment about trout, a transparent attempt to divert attention as Buffy and Dawn approached. "That's a very interesting point about trout! That you made just now," he exclaimed, his words tinged with a hint of awkwardness.

"Trout?" Giles echoed, momentarily puzzled by the sudden shift in conversation. However, as he caught sight of Buffy and Dawn approaching, his expression brightened with feigned enthusiasm. "Trout! Yes! The trout... is a fish. Good morning! Did you both sleep well?"

But before Giles could delve further into the intricacies of fish anatomy, Dawn cut straight to the chase with a solemn declaration. "Master's gone," she announced, her voice carrying a weight of finality.

"You're sure?" Giles's response was swift, his gaze shifting between the two sisters as he sought confirmation of their claim. And as Dawn and Buffy nodded in unison, a sense of unease washed over the group.

"We were on our way to the Bronze when I happened to spot what looked like an open grave," Buffy explained, her voice laced with urgency. "As we approached, I realized the location was exactly where Willow and Xander told me you guys had buried the Master."

"What would somebody want with Master bones?" Willow questioned, her brow furrowing with concern as she tried to make sense of the unsettling discovery.

"Trophy?" Xander suggested, his tone grim as he contemplated the macabre possibilities. "Horrible conversation piece?"

"This explains our dream," Dawn interjected, her voice tinged with apprehension. "The Master is coming back."

"They're going to bring the Master back to life, and I seem to recall you telling me he was history," Buffy added, her words heavy with frustration and disbelief.

"Dawn, Buffy, I've never heard of a revivification ritual being successful," Giles explained, his tone measured as he tried to calm their fears with reason.

"But you've heard of them. Thanks for the warning," Buffy retorted, her expression hardening.

Snyder's sudden appearance sent a ripple of tension through the group, his authoritarian presence casting a shadow over their conversation. "I believe that some of us have classes," he interjected, his voice dripping with disdain as he surveyed Buffy, Dawn, Willow, and Xander. His gaze then shifted to Giles. "And some of us have jobs."

Giles nodded in acknowledgment, his expression betraying his frustration at the interruption. "I'll see you all in the library after school," he stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "And we can finish our discussion."

"About trout," Willow quipped with a playful grin as they began to disperse, heading off to their respective classes.

"There's some things I can just smell," Snyder remarked, his tone ominous as he turned his attention back to Giles. "It's like a sixth sense."

"No, actually, that would be one of the five," Giles replied dryly, his patience wearing thin in the face of Snyder's condescension.

Ignoring Giles's retort, Snyder continued, his voice dripping with thinly veiled contempt. "The Summers girls? I smell trouble. I smell expulsion. And just the faintest aroma of jail."

Giles met Snyder's gaze with a mixture of frustration and defiance, his resolve unshaken by the principal's harsh judgment. "Well, before you throw away the key, perhaps you'd consider giving them the benefit of the doubt," he countered, his voice tinged with a note of defiance. "They may surprise you."

Snyder scrutinized Giles for a moment, his gaze piercing and skeptical. "You really have faith in those kids, don't you?" he remarked, his tone laced with a hint of disbelief.

Giles met Snyder's gaze with unwavering resolve, his confidence in Buffy, Dawn, Willow and Xander unwavering. "Yes, I do," he affirmed, his voice steady and assured.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

As the evening descended, casting long shadows across the library, the team gathered around Giles as he approached the center of the room, a book clutched in his hand. His expression was solemn as he prepared to deliver his findings.

"All right, I've got something. It's Latin, so bear with me," Giles began, his voice grave with urgency. "Um, to revive the vampire, they need his bones," he continued, his eyes flickering sheepishly towards Buffy and Dawn. "which they have... and, uh, the blood... this is very unclear... of the closest person, someone connected to the vampire."

"That'd be me," Buffy interjected, her voice firm and resolute as she acknowledged her role in the ominous ritual.

"Giles, may I?" Dawn spoke up, her tone calm yet determined as she reached out her hand for the book, a glimmer of expertise in her eyes.

"You can read Latin?" Giles inquired, his surprise evident as he handed the book over to Dawn, his trust in her knowledge growing with each passing moment.

"Among a few other languages. If not for the battle with the First going south, I would have gone to college to study mythology and ancient languages," Dawn explained matter-of-factly as she flipped through the pages of the ancient tome. "Okay, your translation is slightly off," she remarked after a moment of careful scrutiny. "When they mention the closest person, they mean the people that were physically in the room with him when he dusted. Buffy was on the roof. Which means..."

"...that it would be myself, Willow, Cordelia, and Ms. Calendar," Giles concluded, realization dawning on his features as he pieced together the implications of Dawn's interpretation.

A rock suddenly smashed through the window behind Giles, shattering the silence of the library. Instinctively, he ducked, while the others, except for Buffy and Dawn, recoiled in alarm.

Buffy's swift reflexes kicked in, and she spun around, catching the rock mid-air. Her eyes narrowed as she observed Cordelia's necklace wrapped around it, along with a ominous note. "This is Cordelia's," she stated, her voice tense with concern.

"Which explains why we didn't see Cordelia during school today. They already have her," Dawn remarked, her brows furrowed in worry as she connected the dots. "And possibly Miss Calendar as well since she was absent also."

Buffy unfolded the note and scanned its contents. "'Come to the Bronze before it opens, or we make her a meal,'" she read aloud, her voice trembling with anger and determination.

"If they need her for the ritual," Giles reasoned, his tone grave, "they won't kill her. Not yet, anyway. So that is likely a trap."

"Yeah, I figured," Buffy replied, her jaw clenched with resolve. "We need to try and find where they have her though. The best way of doing that is to spring the trap."

"You'll be playing right into their hands," Giles reiterated, his voice tinged with concern. "Especially since Dawn can't be of much help in the field until she has her baby."

"And their hands are going to get slapped," Buffy retorted defiantly, her determination unyielding in the face of Giles's caution.

"You need backup," Dawn interjected, her eyes reflecting a steely resolve. "Do you have Angel's number?"

"Yeah," Buffy replied tersely as she strode over to Dawn, who held out her cell phone expectantly. With practiced efficiency, Buffy dialed the number and held the phone to her ear, her expression focused.

"Hey, Angel. Need some backup. Figured out what's going down..." Buffy's voice was terse as she listened intently to Angel's response. After a moment, she nodded in acknowledgment. "Bronze," she confirmed before ending the call and handing the phone back to Dawn.

"You may be pregnant, but you are going to be the guys' best defense," Buffy affirmed, her gaze meeting Dawn's with unwavering confidence.

"I know," Dawn replied, her voice firm and resolute as she prepared herself for the impending confrontation.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Buffy turned on her heel and took off, her determined strides carrying her swiftly towards the looming threat.

"I still think we should have gone with her," Willow voiced her concern, her brows furrowed with worry.

"And if it is a trap, then they would have had you," Dawn countered, her tone firm and resolute as she considered the potential risks.

Giles's eyes widened in alarm as he caught sight of something behind Dawn. "Dawn, behind you," he exclaimed urgently.

Dawn whirled around, her heart pounding with adrenaline, only to come face to face with two menacing vampires. Without hesitation, she conjured a portal and swiftly backed into it, disappearing from sight. Moments later, she emerged from the portal next to her purse, her movements swift and decisive as she reached inside and retrieved a stake.

Surveying her surroundings with heightened vigilance, Dawn realized that the two vampires who had been behind her were not the only threats present. In the dim light, she could make out the figures of two more vampires, bringing the total to four adversaries closing in on her.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Twenty minutes later, Buffy and Angel returned, their arrival marked by the sight of a vampire they had apprehended, bound tightly with Angel's belt. Spotting Xander assisting Dawn to her feet, Buffy's concern deepened. "Dawn? Xander?" she called out, her voice tinged with worry as she hurried over to them. She could see that both of them bore the unmistakable signs of a brutal beating.

"Dawn, how's Elizabeth?" Buffy inquired anxiously, her gaze shifting to her sister's swollen abdomen.

"Still kicking, thankfully," Dawn replied with a weak smile, her hand instinctively cradling her unborn niece.

"What happened?" Buffy pressed, her concern evident in her tone.

"Four of them. Too many in my condition," Dawn explained with a weary sigh, her expression reflecting the toll of the recent altercation.

Buffy glanced toward Angel, silently conveying her frustration and concern. Angel, understanding the gravity of the situation, wasted no time. With a determined shove, he thrust the captured vampire toward Buffy. "Now you're going to tell us where they took them," he demanded, his voice firm and unwavering.

"You're too late. Your friends are dead," the vampire spat out defiantly, his words hanging heavy in the air like a sinister omen.

"Tell us where they are," Dawn demanded, her voice firm as she removed her cross from around her neck.

"What are you going to do, kill me?" the vampire sneered sarcastically, a hint of defiance in his tone.

"As a matter of fact, yes," Buffy replied sharply, her patience wearing thin. With a swift punch, she struck the vampire in the face, causing him to recoil in pain. Taking the cross from Dawn, Buffy held it menacingly above the vampire's face, the vampire's groans echoing in the dimly lit room. Without hesitation, she dropped the necklace into the vampire's open mouth, swiftly clamping it shut with her hands.

As the vampire writhed in agony, smoke billowed from her mouth, a visceral display of the excruciating pain coursing through her undead form.

"But since we're not going to kill you any time soon, the question becomes, how do we pass the time till then?" Dawn remarked coolly, her gaze unwavering as she addressed the suffering vampire.

Angel and Xander exchanged uncomfortable glances, silently acknowledging their discomfort with Buffy and Dawn's ruthless methods.

Buffy retrieved the cross by its chain, her expression resolute. "So, one more time," she stated firmly, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Factory

The Anointed One strode past an old, rusted surgical table, its surface marred with age, holding the Master's bones at its center. Clutching a goblet tightly in his hands, he made his way to the head of the table, where Absalom stood waiting. With a solemn gesture, the Anointed One extended the goblet to Absalom.

Absalom glanced upward, his gaze fixed on the balcony above, where two vampires began to hoist a chain attached to a pulley system. Suspended from the chain were Willow, Giles, Jenny, and Cordelia, their bodies hanging upside down as they were maneuvered into position directly over the skeletal remains below, readying them for the ritual.

Dipping his finger into the goblet, Absalom traced a small 'x' on Willow's forehead before moving on to Giles, repeating the ritualistic marking. Several vampires formed a semi-circle around the table, their presence lending an eerie atmosphere to the proceedings.

Meanwhile, below the balcony, a portal materialized, and Buffy, Xander, Dawn, and Angel emerged. Their eyes immediately fell upon the skeletal figure laid out on the table and the helpless forms of their friends suspended above.

The Anointed One produced a curved knife, which he handed to Absalom, who uttered a silent prayer over it, his intentions clear to all present.

"You two go upstairs, free our friends," Dawn commanded, her voice resolute as she gestured towards the balcony. "Buffy and I will take care of the vampires." With determined strides, she and Buffy advanced towards the ceremony, ready to confront the looming threat.

As Xander watched them go, a sense of realization dawned upon him. Giles had been right all along – there was unresolved trauma that neither Buffy nor Dawn had fully come to terms with. "Make it painful," he murmured, his voice tinged with bitterness and determination.

"We will," Buffy affirmed, her tone echoing Xander's resolve as they prepared to face the imminent danger head-on.

Absalom's fervent prayer culminated with a reverent kiss upon the blade of the knife, his devotion evident in the solemnity of his actions. "For the Old Ones, for his pain. For the Dark," he intoned, his words resonating through the chamber.

"For the Dark," echoed the other vampires in unison, their voices blending into a chilling chorus that hung heavy in the air.

Suddenly, a startled cry pierced the tense atmosphere as the tip of a stake burst forth from the chest of one of the vampires, causing him to disintegrate into a cloud of dust. Revealed behind him were Buffy and Dawn, poised for battle with steely determination.

Absalom's reaction was immediate – a primal, inhuman scream that sent shivers down the spines of those present. The three remaining vampires rallied to his side, moving swiftly to flank Buffy and Dawn, their movements synchronized with deadly precision.

With lightning reflexes, Buffy and Dawn countered the assault. As two vampires lunged towards them, they met the onslaught with synchronized roundhouse kicks to the jaw, sending their adversaries reeling backward. Meanwhile, the third vampire attempted to take advantage of the distraction, stealthily maneuvering behind the sisters. But his advance was swiftly thwarted as they pivoted, delivering a powerful elbow strike to his throat.

Amidst the chaos, Absalom seized the opportunity, his hands closing around Willow's face as he pressed the blade of the knife threateningly against her throat. But just as he prepared to enact his grisly intentions, Willow, Giles, Jenny, and Cordelia began to stir, their movements signaling a desperate bid for escape.

"The sacrifices! Stop them!" Absalom's command rang out, his voice laced with urgency and dread, as he sought to thwart their attempts at freedom and fulfill the dark purpose for which they had been brought forth.

The vampire who had stealthily maneuvered around Buffy and Dawn broke away from the fray, swiftly ascending the stairs.

Meanwhile, the battle below raged on with swift and decisive strikes. It was a flurry of motion, a dance of combat where every move held the promise of life or death. Buffy's kick found its mark, driving her vampire adversary back, while Dawn wielded a makeshift weapon, bringing a box crashing down upon her opponent's head with a resounding thud.

With relentless determination, Dawn followed up with a powerful kick, her foot connecting with force and sending her vampire hurtling backward, the shattered remnants of the box scattered in their wake. At the same time, Buffy launched herself forward, crashing into her own adversary with formidable strength and ferocity.

Above, Xander and Angel sprang into action, swiftly guiding Willow, Cordelia, Jenny, and Giles to the safety of the balcony. With careful precision, they assisted each of them down to the ground, ensuring their protection as they began to rouse from their unconscious state. It was a moment of urgency and solidarity, as they worked together to safeguard their friends amidst the chaos below.

The third vampire surged up the stairs, his intentions clear as he bore down on Angel. In response, Angel's vampiric features emerged, a formidable sight as he met the vampire head-on. Their clash was fierce, grappling and struggling for dominance as they teetered on the edge of the balcony.

Suddenly, the rotted boards beneath their feet gave way, sending them crashing through to the floor below with a resounding crash. Meanwhile, Buffy, ever vigilant, spotted an opportunity to assist her sister. With quick reflexes, she seized a shard of wood from a nearby box and thrust it into the vampire's back, dislodging him just before he turned to dust.

"Dawn!" Buffy called out to her sister, tossing the shard in her direction. Dawn caught it with precision, driving it into the vampire's chest with determined force, ensuring its demise in a cloud of ash.

Meanwhile, in the midst of the chaos, Angel found himself locked in a deadly struggle with the third vampire. With a desperate move, he wrestled a shard of wood from his assailant's grasp, swiftly reversing the tide of the battle by driving it backward through the vampire's heart, vanquishing him in a burst of dust.

Concerned for their friends' safety, Giles turned to Jenny, offering his support as they assessed her condition. "Are you all right?" he inquired; his gaze filled with worry.

"I think so. My head..." Jenny replied, her voice tinged with discomfort.

Giles scanned the area, his gaze searching for Buffy and Dawn. "Where are Buffy and Dawn?" he asked Xander, his concern evident.

"They're sorting out their differences," Xander replied, acknowledging the intense emotional turmoil the sisters were dealing with.

Absalom emerged from the shadows; his menacing presence palpable as he brandished a sledgehammer with malicious intent. "Your day is done, girls," he sneered, his voice dripping with menace. "I'll grind you both into a sticky paste. And I'll hear you both beg before I smash in your faces."

Buffy and Dawn stood firm, unflinching in the face of Absalom's threats. Buffy's demeanor remained composed as she quipped, "So, are you going to kill us? Or are you just making small talk?" Dawn's smile mirrored her sister's defiance as they awaited Absalom's next move.

Without hesitation, Absalom lunged at the girls, the heavy sledgehammer swinging menacingly through the air. Buffy and Dawn shared a silent understanding, a nod passing between them as they prepared to confront their assailant.

In a swift and coordinated move, Dawn pivoted towards Absalom, her agile form executing a sweeping kick towards the base of the nearby torch. With a resounding crack, the torch splintered and flipped upward, its burning end catching Absalom by surprise. In a sudden blaze of flames, Absalom erupted into dust, his menacing figure reduced to nothingness as the sledgehammer clattered to the ground before the victorious sisters.

Dawn wasted no time in seizing the fallen weapon, her grip firm as she held the sledgehammer aloft.

"It's over," Willow declared, a note of relief in her voice as Xander assisted her to her feet.

But Xander's response was somber as he surveyed the scene before them. "No, it's not," he countered, his gaze filled with apprehension.

Dawn and Buffy approached the table, determination etched on their faces as they faced the remnants of their past traumas. Without hesitation, Dawn gripped the sledgehammer tightly, her movements fueled by a mix of anger and resolve as she swung with all her might, shattering the skull of the Master into pieces. Buffy followed suit, her strikes relentless as they took turns pulverizing the bones, reducing them to dust.

As the final blow fell, Dawn dropped the sledgehammer, her breaths ragged as tears welled up in her eyes. She turned towards Buffy, who mirrored her emotions, tears glistening in her eyes as well. In a silent exchange, they found solace in each other's embrace, their shared pain and resilience binding them together in a moment of raw vulnerability.

Angel, who had moved to comfort Buffy, paused as he witnessed the intimate moment between the sisters. Confusion clouded his features until Giles approached, offering a quiet explanation.

"Their sisters," Giles clarified, his voice carrying a mixture of empathy and understanding. "Dawn is from a future she came to prevent. She's Buffy's little sister, all grown up."

Angel nodded in comprehension, recalling the complexities of their shared history. He remembered the events in the Master's cave where he and Xander had found Marie cradling Buffy's head in her lap begging her to wake up. Moving towards them, he enveloped Buffy and Dawn in a comforting embrace, his words a gentle reassurance amidst their turmoil. "It's okay... it's okay..." he murmured, offering his support as they navigated the depths of their shared grief.

September 18, 1997 – Thursday

Sunnydale High School

In the quad of the school, Cordelia and Jenny walked together, their conversation laden with the weight of recent events. Cordelia's words carried a somber truth as she reflected on the enduring scars left by their harrowing experience. "What an ordeal. And you know the worst part: It stays with you forever. No matter what they tell you, none of that rust and blood and grime comes out. You can dry-clean till judgment day; you're living with those stains."

Jenny responded with a dry wit, acknowledging the absurdity of their situation. "Yes," she deadpanned. "That's the worst part of being hung upside down by a vampire that wants to slit your throat. The stains."

Cordelia empathized with a nod as they passed by Giles, Dawn, and Buffy. Giles, ever the concerned mentor, inquired about their well-being. Dawn, finding solace in the progress of her healing journey, expressed a sense of improvement tempered by the recognition that healing takes time. "Better," she affirmed, grateful to have begun the process of moving beyond the trauma of the Master's cave. "But still with a way to go, before being perfect."

Giles offered reassurance, acknowledging the depth of their wounds and the necessity of patience in their recovery. "As it should be," he replied, his gaze following the girls as they continued into the school. With a sigh, he reflected on Dawn's journey, recognizing the significance of her healing process encompassing both past and future traumas. "All your traumas are now healing, Dawn. Both future and past. And with time all of it will heal, and you will finally find yourself, whole."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Buffy," Dawn began, her voice carrying a hint of urgency as they paused at the entrance to the lounge. "There's something I need to tell you, and Angel. It's about his soul. There's a clause in it."

Buffy regarded her sister with a serious expression. "Tonight then," she agreed, understanding the importance of the matter they needed to discuss, as they continued toward their friends.

Upon reaching their companions, Buffy and Dawn exchanged greetings with Willow and Xander, taking their seats opposite them.

"So, are we Bronzing tonight?" Xander inquired, attempting to lighten the mood.

Willow chimed in, "Thursdays, it's kind of beat."

Xander, ever the jester, added, "Well, we could grind our enemies into talcum powder with a sledgehammer, but, gosh, we did that last night."

Buffy and Dawn shared a knowing glance before bursting into laughter, appreciating the levity amidst the challenges they faced.

Angel's Apartment

That evening, the air was thick with tension as Buffy hesitantly approached the door of the apartment. With each knock, her heart hammered against her ribs, the weight of the impending conversation pressing down on her shoulders. She glanced at Dawn beside her, who stood nervously, her gaze fixed on the door.

After what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open, revealing Angel's surprised expression. Relief washed over Buffy as she saw him, but it was quickly replaced by the gravity of their purpose. "Buffy?" Angel's voice was tinged with confusion and concern.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy stepped forward, her eyes meeting Angel's with a mixture of determination and apprehension. "There is something Dawn has to tell us about your curse," she stated, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her.

Angel's brow furrowed in curiosity as he stepped aside, allowing the girls entry into his home. As they settled into seats, the atmosphere grew heavy with anticipation, each of them keenly aware of the weight of the impending revelation.

With a deep breath, Dawn positioned herself in front of Buffy and Angel, her voice trembling slightly with the weight of her words. "I'm going to be blunt: don't have sex, like ever, Angel," she began, her eyes flickering between the two of them. "The clause in your curse, Angel, says that if you have one moment of true happiness, you lose your soul. In the future I come from, you and Buffy... you had sex on her seventeenth birthday. And... you lost your soul," she confessed, the words hanging heavily in the air. "Angelus emerged and you tormented her. And of course, to get at Buffy, you tormented me as well."

As the truth sank in, silence enveloped the room, broken only by the sound of their collective breaths. Buffy's heart ached with the knowledge of the pain and chaos that had ensued in Dawn's original timeline, while Angel's expression darkened with the weight of guilt and regret. Dawn's revelation had unearthed a potential future fraught with tragedy and consequences, casting a shadow over their fragile present.

September 20, 1997 – Saturday

Sunnydale Airport

Dawn and Buffy stood amidst the bustling airport terminal; their gazes fixed expectantly on the throngs of disembarking passengers. Anticipation crackled in the air as they awaited Chloe's arrival. Finally, amidst the sea of faces, Chloe emerged from the plane, her presence instantly recognized by Dawn and Buffy.

"Hello, Dawn, Buffy," Chloe greeted warmly, her eyes lighting up with familiarity. But as her gaze fell upon Dawn's swollen belly, her expression shifted, registering a mix of surprise and confusion. "How...?" she began, her voice trailing off in disbelief.

Dawn took a deep breath, bracing herself for the difficult conversation ahead. "There is a lengthy story," she started, her tone heavy with the weight of the revelations to come. "Which I need to explain to you and to Buffy. Because it concerns not only August but myself."

With Chloe's bags in tow, they made their way back to Dawn's house, the tension in the car palpable as Dawn prepared to unveil the truth that had been weighing heavily on her heart.

"It goes like this, and this will shock you the most, Buffy," Dawn began, her eyes flickering between her sister and Chloe. "I don't know about Marie for sure, since she is already here. But myself, I did not exist before the year two thousand."

Dawn paused, allowing the gravity of her words to sink in before continuing. "My body was created by some monks to hide a thing called the Key," she explained, her voice heavy with the weight of her past. "It was energy, and if used at a specific point and time, it could break down the barriers between dimensions. The hell god that I mentioned that was after me or Marie she wants the Key to go home, that was her entire goal, to just go back to the hell dimension she was kicked out of."

Glancing over at Buffy, Dawn observed the shock etched upon her sister's face, her heart heavy with the knowledge of the pain her revelation would cause. "You remember what Marie said the day I revealed myself to you?" Dawn asked softly, her voice filled with a mixture of apprehension and longing.

Buffy nodded slowly, her eyes brimming with emotion. "Yes," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "That it didn't matter where you came from, that I loved you. So, I was okay with it, that these monks inserted you into my family, probably modifying my memories to make sure no one was the wiser?"

"You weren't at first," Dawn admitted, her voice trembling with emotion. "But you slowly got there. And by the time you fought Glory, you knew what you had to do."

A heavy silence descended upon the car as Buffy absorbed Dawn's words, the weight of her potential future hanging heavily between them. "You had to jump because you couldn't let me, because you knew it would destroy you if I died," Dawn continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "You sacrificed yourself for me."

Buffy's nod was heavy with emotion as she delicately wiped a tear from her eye. The tear was not just a product of grief for her own death in the alternate timeline, but also a testament to the profound love she held for Dawn and Marie, a love that transcended time and space.

As Chloe's voice broke the somber silence from the back seat, Buffy shifted her gaze, her eyes meeting Chloe's with a mixture of apprehension and resolve. "So, what does this have to do with August?" Chloe's question hung in the air, her curiosity mirroring the thoughts swirling in Buffy and Dawn's minds.

Dawn took a deep breath, her voice steady as she sought to unravel the tangled threads of their intertwined destinies. "After your call, Chloe, I summoned D'Hoffryn," she began, her words laced with determination. "Don't worry, I didn't ask for another wish. I had to know, and being the demon who granted the wish, he was the only one who would know what happened in the other timeline."

Dawn's voice quivered slightly as she delved deeper into the unsettling revelations, her words carrying the weight of a truth too staggering to fully comprehend. "So, I asked him about August," she continued, her tone tinged with a mixture of disbelief and resignation. "Originally, I thought Willow, who by the way is a powerful witch by then."

The air grew heavy with anticipation as Buffy and Chloe listened intently, their minds reeling with the implications of her words. With a heavy sigh, Dawn pressed on, her voice steady despite the turmoil churning within her. "D'Hoffryn admitted that what I had been told was incorrect," she confessed, her gaze fixed on the road ahead. "August wasn't a potential that Willow, using ancient magics, had called. August was my daughter. Willow created August using the same magics the monks did," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "Willow knew there was a Slayer being held captive, but she thought it was Faith. Instead, the magics utilized my blood, creating my daughter. As part of the spell, she was activated as a Slayer."

"The reason I am now pregnant is that D'Hoffryn granted me a favor," Dawn confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I will owe him someday. He brought August's soul from the other timeline and gave her to me as my daughter," Dawn concluded, her voice heavy with emotion. "He modified the wish that brought me back so that my parents were now returning from a trip out of town as a result of my telling them over the phone I was pregnant."

Buffy's touch was a gentle reassurance, a silent acknowledgment of the complex web of relationships that bound them together. As her hand came to rest on Dawn's arm, a small smile played at the corners of her lips, a flicker of warmth amidst the turmoil that surrounded them. "I know officially you're my cousin," Buffy began, her voice soft with affection. "But I have to admit it's nice to know I'm an aunt."

Dawn's heart swelled with gratitude at Buffy's words, a rush of warmth flooding her veins as she leaned into her sister's touch. Despite the uncertainty that loomed over their future, there was solace to be found in the bonds of family, in the unbreakable ties that bound them together.

Chloe's voice cut through the quiet, her words laden with concern and understanding. "Till you give birth, this will reduce your time in the field for the safety of your child," she remarked, her gaze thoughtful as she considered the implications of Dawn's pregnancy. "But I'm okay with it. Having her to raise will put things in perspective for you. It will give you, beyond fixing things for Buffy and your friends, a reason to live."

Dawn nodded solemnly, a sense of purpose stirring within her as she contemplated the life growing within her womb. "So, will she still be named August?" Chloe's question hung in the air, a reminder of the weight of the decisions that lay ahead.

"No," Dawn replied, her voice steady with resolve. "We'll consider August a nickname. But her name is going to be named after both of my sisters. Both the sister that is sitting next to me and the former cousin who is now officially my sister, who died when she, I, and Buffy were eight years old. Her name will be Elizabeth Celia Summers."

Buffy's brow furrowed in thought as she turned to her sister, her gaze searching. "Is this Key thing," she asked, her voice hesitant, "Is that the portal thing you have?"

Chloe's confusion was palpable as she looked between Dawn and Buffy, her brow furrowed in bewilderment at their cryptic conversation. "Portal thing?" she queried, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of concern.

Dawn met Chloe's gaze in the rearview mirror, her expression somber as she prepared to unravel the mysteries that lay hidden beneath the surface. "I'm not only a Slayer, Chloe," she began, her voice steady despite the weight of her words. "I am also a witch, which, by the way, I am training Willow so she doesn't go down her original path. It's ironic in a way. I am training Willow, who trained me."

Buffy's confusion mirrored Chloe's own, her expression a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "Willow trained you?" she questioned; her voice laced with uncertainty. "When?"

Dawn hesitated for a moment, her thoughts drifting back to the trials and tribulations that had shaped her journey. "Well, maybe 'train me' isn't the right word," she admitted, her voice tinged with regret. "As she actually didn't train me. I learned by watching. Then, in my captivity, I practiced what I had seen until the point I was able to control the Key."

"I think you and I are going to have a lot of conversations," Chloe remarked, her voice soft with understanding as she contemplated the complexities of Dawn's life.

"More than likely," Dawn agreed with a small nod, her gaze fixed on the road ahead as she guided the car into the familiar confines of her driveway.