Author's notes: I'm back! Sorry for the impromptu, warning-less hiatus. My life is moderately insane, and I've been dealing with massive dramatic irony in my day-to-day life. On the bright side, it's given me time to come up with even more awesome ideas for this than I originally had, so on the whole I guess it works out okay. Kinda. Ish?

We're going to switch the focus from Faith herself a little bit in this chapter and the coming chapters, and look at the storyline from the points of view of other characters. Partly this is because the coming 'history' segments are things that Faith herself is somewhat ashamed to share with Giles in any sort of detail, but others who were there to witness some of this stuff are free of any such compunctions. Partly this is also because it's going to shed some (hopefully helpful) light on other characters' motivations in the overall plot. Or at least the motivations they've decided to make public, which may sometimes conflict with their true motivations. (I love me some complex characterization.)

From here on in, things are going to get a lot darker a lot faster, and the reliability of various narrators is going to be affected, particularly when looking at incidents that have occurred in the story's past. I've been trying to use snapshots of scenery and dialogue to show just how fucked up this future Buffyverse is, what with the complete and utter destruction of most of human society, demons out in daylight, and the decay of the Slayers that Willow called - all of this stuff will get explanations as we continue. For now, it's mostly enough to know that it just is how it is.

I am still considering which canon characters to do what with, in this story. I have a limited number of "get out of the grave free" cards - ideas from mythology and literature that can be tailored to fit the Buffyverse if necessary - so I'm taking votes to see who people would like to see as part of the main cast. So far we've got Faith, Xander, and Giles (and sort of Dawn). Willow is around, but I don't have major plans to use her as yet (although that will change if sudden inspiration strikes - and it probably will since she and Giles were my favorite characters until Faith showed up, and ever after my second favorites). I'm not making any promises to use your beloved characters (or that I won't re-kill them if I do), but feedback on that point would be appreciated.

Also, if you have any questions, feel free to go ahead and ask them in the comments or in PMs. Some things you're supposed to still be confused about (honestly, some things I'm still confused about - but I'm a seat-of-the-pants writer, or pantser in NaNoWriMo lingo, so I trust my brain to eventually wrap up all the loose ends), but some things you aren't. Hopefully I'm keeping the distinction clear, but feedback about your impressions, assumptions, confusions, etc., will really help me to figure out if I'm achieving the right balance here, so please comment with any thoughts. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy this chapter~!

...

Dawn crept quietly out of the warehouse fortress.

"Eight years. Eight years they've been fucking lying to me," she growled under her breath, pacing in an alcove just outside the door.

She knew it wasn't safe to venture far, but the entire fence around the perimeter was electrified, the ground had been sanctified, and there were strategically placed crosses and motion-triggered floodlights all around the base. She knew that some of the guys were up in the turrets, manning crossbows and catapults. It had been a long time since it had been safe for fleshy mortals to be out alone and unarmed even in the daylight; to go out at night was something not even most suicidal individuals would dare to do.

But here in the alcove it was safe. The door was propped open, ready for her to escape safely across the perimeter if a vampire or demon did manage to show up, and at the same time it wasn't any place Xander, Giles, or anyone else was likely to look for her. They probably thought she was still holed up in her room crying like a child.

"As if it isn't bad enough that they lie to me, they treat me like a child, too," she fumed. "I'm nineteen years old! I'm older than Buffy was when she started slaying, older than Faith was when she was called, older than Willow was when she started with magic. Do they expect me to stay a child forever?"

She and Xander had been on their own for several years, drifting from city to city as he held down various odd construction jobs and made some extra money on the side repairing people's furniture. As the demonic forces had grown more daring, his business had thrived - not many people knew how to make, let alone repair, a decent crossbow anymore. The fact that he could make several in a day only assured their financial stability until the entire economic system broke down under the strain of the battle between good and evil. And then they'd gone into hiding here. Every safety detail was his, culled from the military memories of a Halloween long ago - or so he claimed. Dawn was pretty sure he was lying on that point, and that he was just too embarrassed to admit to reading lots of comics and watching too many war movies.

A sound off about thirty feet from the fence caught her attention. It sounded like a child crying. "Hello?" she called. "Is somebody there?"

"Help me," the voice answered. "I fell down and hurt my leg. Please."

Dawn shivered. It wasn't far. Nobody had even seen a demon around here recently, aside from the ones who had gored Faith earlier that afternoon. Near as Dawn could tell, those had actually done her a favor. Doctor Karen had been skeptical about Faith's chances, even when she learned that she was a Slayer. Still, everyone knew it was worth than folly to venture outside of the shelter at night, even in a large, heavily armed group.

"Let me get someone," she called back. "It's not safe. There could be demons."

"Please hurry," the child called back. "I'm really scared. It's cold and I can't see anything."

"Promise!" Dawn turned and ducked back inside, heading for one of the sleeping areas. She carefully tiptoed over the sleeping bags on the floor, looking for one familiar form.

"Dawn? What are you doing in here?" Marco asked as she bent down over him.

"Someone's stuck outside the perimeter. I think it's a kid. We have to help."

Marco frowned. "We should wait until morning," he said slowly.

"Please? For me?"

"What if those demons that nearly killed the Slayer are around? And you know Xander doesn't want you going outside."

"Who cares what Xander wants?" Dawn hissed.

"Whoa, sorry I asked."

"Be quiet!" someone growled from the other end of the room. "And get that girl out of here!" another added.

Marco nodded his head for Dawn to follow him and headed into the hall. After closing the door behind him, he ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, since you got me out here, show me where you heard this kid."

Dawn grinned and hugged him. She had known he would help if she could just get him out of the men's sleeping quarters. Ever since his family had made it here, he'd become a solid friend of hers. A former marine, he was one of the best sharpshooters the small colony had. It didn't hurt that he had beautiful green eyes and a warm, steady smile, either. Although she'd deny it to her grave if anyone asked, Dawn was hopelessly in love.

She led him to the side door, more a fire escape than a true entrance, and pointed.

"You left the door open?" Marco asked, stopping in his tracks.

"So? Not like anything could get past the fence without being noticed and the alarm being sounded," she said. "And it's not so far we couldn't close it."

"You were outside?"

"I needed to think. I'm tired of being cooped up in here."

"Like the rest of us aren't? Being bored doesn't give you an excuse to put all of us in danger." Though slow to anger, there were a few things guaranteed to get Marco furious. Anything that could potentially put the colony at risk was right at the top of the list.

"I forgot to close the door, okay? No big deal. Nothing got in."

"You don't know that."

"We can go and ask the guys in the crow's nest if they saw anything, or if the lights came on," Dawn said. "Will that make you feel better?"

"It might," Marco said, walking over to close the door. He kicked the rock propping it open out of the way, but instead of swinging shut, the door flung open. Before either of them could react, a man's hand closed around Marco's neck. His eyes bulged as he struggled for air and finally grew still.

Dawn was rooted to the spot, her heart thundering through her chest. She knew she should run, but her feet were leaden. The man in the doorway was backlit, so she couldn't see his face, but somewhere in her mind she recognized his deep laugh.

"Hello there, sweetheart," he said. "It was so nice of you to respond to my bait!" He chuckled and took a few steps inside, letting the steel door click shut behind him. The lights in the hallway came on automatically as it did, illuminating his face, and Dawn gasped.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"What, no hug? I'm hurt."

"Why should I hug someone who tortured me? Someone who got my sister killed?"

Donovan shook his head. "Because I'm the one who's going to make it all better. I apologize for all that unpleasantness when you were eleven; you see, I thought Faith actually cared about you and your sister, and I just couldn't resist the challenge. She's cared for so few people over the years, though she can sometimes put up an admirable show of pretending to. But you. You and Buffy, she went out of her way to keep out of my grasp. I could only come to one conclusion, so I laid my traps accordingly. I've never had a quarrel with Buffy. I rather respected her, actually. She handed her calling splendidly."

"Nobody can make it better. Buffy's dead, and nothing can ever change that. Your apologies don't make a damn bit of difference."

"I rather thought you might say that. Dawny, darling - I can call you Dawny, can't I? We're old friends after all - are you aware of what you are?"

Dawn responded only with a mutinous glare.

"Of course, how silly of me, that's how Buffy died the second time, isn't it? It's rather poetic in a tragic way; the first time was for her friends, the second time for her family, and the third time for her mortal enemy, although I'm sure she'd protest that it was for the world. But I digress. Dawny, you have the power to bend the worlds and bring her back. I could even show you how. It wouldn't even require your blood or your death, like the last time someone tried."

"Right. And what's the cost? My soul? The world? I saw what happened when Glory opened the portal, I don't see how tampering like this could be any different-"

"Yes, but that was to a hell dimension. Do you really think your sister has taken up an eternal residence in Hell? Of course not. Saving the world once all but guarantees you a one-way ticket to Heaven come Judgment, and she did it multiple times, at great cost to herself. At worst, she's in a limbo state."

"And the last time we ripped her out of Heaven she wanted to die and leave us all over again."

"She woke up in a coffin, sweetie. Who wouldn't get post-traumatic stress disorder from that? And as I recall, she got better."

"How do you know so much about this?"

"I've made it my business to know. Slayers are something of a family hobby. My father was a Watcher, as was my aunt. And my grandparents, great-grandparents, et cetera, et cetera, ad nauseum to the beginning of Watching as a hobby for the more bored among the esoterically-inclined nobility. In fact, Faith was my aunt's prodigy. Has she ever told you about Amelia? Or Lydia?"

"She's never told us anything."

"Pity. It would make all this so much simpler. You wouldn't have nearly so much suspicion of my motives if that were the case. All I want is the chance to give Faith the reward she so richly deserves."

"And that would be?"

"An eternity in Hell," Donovan said simply, in the tone normally reserved for telling someone the time. "I want to kill her. Her own past will seal the deal quite nicely. And if I can make amends with you and your charming sister on the way, I figure what's the harm?"

"There's a catch. There's always a catch," Dawn said, but her resolve was weakening. "You come in here, you offer me my sister and my life back, in exchange for what? Letting you kill Faith? What are you leaving out?"

Donovan smiled gently, and it occurred to her that he was quite handsome despite his clear lack of morals. "Well, you'd have to leave here with me, in order for me to teach you how to bridge the dimensions. Of course, you couldn't tell anyone here; there's no way they'd let you leave, certainly not with me. And you'd need to invite my agents in. If I'm to take you away and teach you, I can't kill Faith myself."

"You're going to send vampires to kill a vampire Slayer? Are you an idiot?"

Donovan laughed. "No, I'm going to send vampires to scout out where she's hiding and keep anyone else from interfering. I'm going to send demons to kill Faith."

"How do I know they won't kill anyone else?"

"You don't. That's the downside to making a devil's pact with someone like me."

Dawn hesitated, then shook her head. Anger at Xander still boiled furiously in her chest, but she couldn't consign him, or anyone else in the compound to death.

"No," she said, taking a step back. Donovan's smile faltered.

"You would throw away the chance to see your sister again - to hug her, and tell her all those things you never found time to say in life - for people who have lied to you, ignored you, and belittled you?" He shrugged. "I suppose, if that's what you want, then it's your choice to make. But you see, sweetheart, whether you choose to cooperate or not, things will proceed a certain way. So I strongly suggest you take the deal I'm offering."

"Or what?" Dawn asked.

"Turn around."

"Huh?"

"Turn. Around."

A serpentine demon with mottled green and purple skin stood on three legs behind her, gnawing on a human arm. Blood dripped from the shoulder stump onto the floor, and Dawn could tell from the ease with which it oozed that it was fresh. She swallowed against a growing urge to both scream and puke, stepping back several steps as its jelly-like red eyes focused on her and it leaned closer to get a better look.

"You see, Dawny, I took the liberty of sending some of my demons in while you left the door open. Any minute now the next round of guards will discover that the old ones are off for lunch. As it were."

Dawn spun around to face him. "Promise me Xander and Giles won't get hurt," she whispered.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. The Miksos demons, once they smell blood, tend to go on a terrifying rampage. It's too late to give them orders for who not to kill. You can thank me later for remembering to give them your image as not-prey later. It's much too late to add to the list. My vampires could block off the hallways where the others sleep... but only if you agree to our bargain."

Tears welled up in Dawn's eyes, and she shuddered. "Fine. I accept your deal. Just don't let anybody die."

"Besides Faith."

"Yes. Besides Faith." Dawn scrubbed at her face with the back of her hand. Donovan patted her gently on the head.

"Don't feel guilty, Dawny. Old Faith has left a long trail of bodies and broken lives behind her. She deserves this." He put an arm around her shoulders, and opened the side door. A team of fifteen vampires in hunting face were assembled there. "Now. Invite them in."

"Come in," Dawn whispered, her vision clouding over as the tears finally spilled. She could hear the vampires march into the small hallway and the door click shut behind them. She closed her eyes as one of them said, "Orders, sir?"

"Leave no one alive."

"No!" Dawn shrieked, thrashing to get out of his grip. The arm that held her was terrifyingly strong, and she couldn't escape. "Please no. Please don't," she sobbed.

He wiped the tears under her eyes away with a fingertip. The gesture was tender, almost loving, and his voice was gentle as he whispered, "They would only try to save her, and die fighting. This way they will go in peace, without ever knowing what has happened. It's better this way."

Dawn sobbed as he led her out the door. She could hear screams and sobs beginning to echo back down the halls, even over her own anguished tears, as the door slid shut and clicked into place far too placidly.

"Why are you doing this?"

Donovan sighed. "I'm going to tell you a story. A true story, about five women - Faith, and the four whose lives I saw her destroy: Lydia, Amelia, Hope, and Grace. It's a very long story, so I'm going to tell it in pieces - a little bit every day - and then when I'm done, you can tell me what you think about where you and Buffy fit into the story. How about that, Dawny?"

"Don't call me that!"

Donovan pointedly ignored her, and continued leading her down the road out of the compound. The floodlights kicked on, but there were no sirens, no shots. The night was silent and still as they walked slowly away. Eventually, he began to speak.

"Now, Dawny, this story takes place nearly twenty years ago, when I was still young and carefree, and Faith was only fifteen."

...

"Did you hear that, Van?" Lydia whispered, pulling away as he leaned in to kiss her again.

"I didn't hear anything. Relax, love, it's just us." He turned her face back to his, and she leaned in this time as well. A few minutes later, she pulled away mid-kiss.

"There it is again. You can't possibly have missed it!"

"It's probably just my aunt's terrier digging around in the underbrush."

Donovan didn't mean to sound impatient, but they never managed to steal much time for themselves; Amelia knew of their mutual attraction and interest, and stopped at nothing to try to get in the way of its progress. Her efforts had reduced them to sneaking around in crypts while she trained her latest Potential.

Ever since Faith had shown up and she had seen what he saw - how thickly the threads of magic from the Choosing hung around her, threading and braiding themselves into her aura - Amelia had left Lydia's training mostly on the backburner. Yet Amelia still couldn't stand the thought of her dallying with Donovan, never mind how clear it was that Lydia would never be Chosen, not while Faith lived.

"It doesn't sound like Cricket."

"I've got the crossbow loaded and ready right here," Donovan whispered. "Nothing's going to get the jump on us. And even if it does, I'll protect you."

"It's not that kind of noise either." Lydia stood up and straightened her clothes out, pulling her blouse back into correct position and making sure she didn't look too rumpled. It wouldn't do any good; Amelia pretty much had a sixth sense for detecting what they had been up to. "It sounded like someone's in trouble. Give me the other crossbow."

Donovan tried not to sigh and handed it over.

"What is it, Van? You're not mad, are you?"

"I'm five by five," he answered with a tight grin. "I was just looking forward to spending some time together, love. But I guess it's all work, work, work tonight. Just like every night."

"I thought you'd learned by now, Pinky: we do the same thing every night," Lydia said, laughing. She headed out the door with him on her heels.

"Can't we go back to trying to take over the world? That would be so much more fun," he countered.

Lydia smiled sadly at him. "As long as there's a chance I could be Chosen, I have to fight. Even when there's no chance, I don't think I'll be able to just sit by and let those monsters kill people when I know their weaknesses."

"Sometimes I think you're too noble."

"Yeah, but that's why you love me, isn't it?"

"And why I look forward to you finally coming of age; thank God it's just another six months. When there's no longer any chance for you to be Chosen, we can run away together. Amelia would never let us go, not while she thinks we can still help train Faith, but we could sneak away and have fantastic adventures. I have cousins on the continent, on Mother's side - they live in a castle with a massive dungeon full of medieval weaponry - and we can hunt demons ourselves and learn exotic spells and see whatever's left of the seven wonders of the ancient world."

"Where even more evil things are lurking," Lydia laughed. "If you have your way, we'll be fighting monsters for the rest of our lives. Even on our honeymoon, which is supposed to be distinctly devoid of fighting."

"And we'll raise our kids to fight them, too," Donovan said proudly. "With a Potential Slayer as their mother and a Watcher for their father, they'd be unbeatable."

"Except that they'd still be mortal," Lydia countered in a small voice. "You know as well as I do how short this life usually is."

"It won't be. Not for us," he said, taking her hand.

"Hm," Lydia smiled at him, and kissed his cheek. "We'll see."

They scanned the horizon, looking for anything suspicious: rattling branches, footprints, fast movement. And then they heard Amelia scream in pain.

They shared a terrified look before they took off running.

Lydia reached the clearing shortly before he did and plunged into the fight. Several large vampires had gotten the upper hand over Amelia and Faith. Lydia aimed her crossbow at the one preparing to kill Faith. "Get Amelia," she hissed at Donovan as she fired a bolt.

Her shot missed the heart but caught the vampire in the shoulder, forcing him to drop Faith to rip the bolt out. Her body collapsed in a heap on the ground, and Donovan could see blood streaming from a wound on her head as he fired his own shot at the vampire who had just sunk his teeth into Amelia's neck. The bolt collided with the target, and the vampire vaporized into a neat pile of dust.

Amelia struggled to get to her feet while the other three vampires turned their attention to Lydia and Donovan. He attempted to fumble another crossbow bolt into position, as two of the three charged over to take them on. Lydia tossed her crossbow aside and pulled out a stake; it landed in the mud near Faith, who stirred slightly.

Donovan's fingers slipped as adrenaline flooded into his bloodstream, causing time to slow and everything to take on a weightier, more ponderous quality. Amelia was trying to crawl away, and the third vampire was playing a twisted cat and mouse game with her, catching her foot, then letting it go, then catching it again as she tried to reach her purse and the crucifix and holy water it contained within. The two other vampires were in full throttle, charging at him and Lydia. She stood calmly, in perfect form, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Faith's eyes fluttered open and she reached for the crossbow and the bolt that Lydia had shot into the first vampire's shoulder, which he had pulled out and left on the ground before beginning his twisted game with Amelia.

Rather than it clicking into place, Donovan dropped a bolt. He dove out of the way, knowing that he wouldn't stand any chance unarmed. He came to his feet in time to see Faith take aim and fire at the second vampire, just as Lydia landed a solid blow to his heart and he began to vaporize away.

It was too late to take the shot back, to re-aim, re-fire. As Lydia spun to engage in a fight with the first vampire, the crossbow bolt zipped through the falling ashes and buried itself in her shoulder, knocking her off balance. Seizing the opportunity, the vampire grabbed her by the throat, and cleanly snapped her neck. The sound cracked through the night air, and Donovan felt his blood freeze as he watched his girlfriend's body collapse to the ground.

"No!" The word was ripped from his throat as he saw her fall into a motionless heap.

In the moment it had taken for her to be killed, Amelia had reached her purse. She rolled over, holding up a crucifix to the vampire looming over her, as her other hand fumbled for anything that could be useful as a weapon. A strange kind of disembodied focus overtook Donovan as he picked up his own crossbow, smoothly loaded it, and fired at the closer of the two remaining vampires. He then reloaded and destroyed the final one. All that remained to show that there had been a fight in the cemetery were four neat piles of ashes, a bleeding gash on Faith's forehead, and Lydia's body.

Donovan dropped the crossbow in his hand and knelt beside his girlfriend, unrolling her from the bizarrely contorted position she had fallen into. Her eyes were closed, peacefully, as though she were merely taking a brief nap and dreaming of the adventures and children they would never have. "Lydia?" he whispered, brushing her hair out of her face. Her cheek was still warm.

"Donovan," Amelia said quietly. "She's gone."

He refused to hear it. She had been so alive just a few moments before. If she hadn't heard the noises, hadn't been suspicious, had just believed it was Cricket rooting around outside the crypt... If he hadn't lured her away, hadn't tried to ignore her fears, hadn't let his imagination run wild inventing futures he should have known were impossible... Who knew how things could have ended differently? He shook his head, blocking out the reasonable voice of his aunt.

She couldn't be gone. There was still so much more left for them to do.

"Lydia, please. You can't go yet."

"Donovan," Faith whispered. Her voice was oddly choked and strangled, like she was fighting to hold in tears. "I didn't mean to..."

He closed his eyes. "Don't speak to me," he said. His voice sounded strange to his ears. Distant, gravelly, foreign. Maybe it was someone else speaking, reading the transcript from his thoughts. "Don't ever speak to me."

"Donovan," Amelia said, her voice gentle even though she spoke in a warning tone, "this was a horrific accident. You have always known what kind of life this is. There was nothing that anyone could have done differently."

"There were loads of things we could have done differently!" he shouted.

"We were outnumbered and overpowered. These were new vampires, of a stronger order than we've seen here before. I wouldn't have brought you three out here if I had known. Lydia did well; she saved many lives through her courage. Honor her memory. Let her be at peace."

"Your platitudes are bullshit," Donovan growled, getting to his feet. "You think people's lives are things you can play with! You and your Watcher's Council. Nobody died and made you gods; you don't have any right to meddle this way!"

"I know this is painful. I know you loved her-"

"Love! Not loved," he protested. There was nothing past tense about it. He wouldn't believe that Lydia was now past-tense.

Amelia sighed. "I know you... love her. But one life can't be allowed to take precedence over millions. It's part of what you have to learn as a Watcher. It's why I tried to keep you and Lydia apart." Her voice had dipped to a whisper, and now it cracked. Donovan looked up in surprise. For the first time he could remember in his life, his aunt was crying. And not just a few small tears trickling down; she was sobbing openly.

"What good could that ever do? To keep us alone?"

"It's not given to Watchers and Slayers to have the warm comforts of loved ones. We know what is out there. We are the only ones preventing the darkness from consuming all life. Loss is something we have to learn to accept, no matter how it pains us."

Donovan stormed off. For the first time ever, Amelia didn't summon him back.

...

"You see, Dawny? Our Faith had quite the career before she'd even been called."

Dawn sat in silence. She was still crying softly to herself for Xander and Giles.

"You're still angry with me, aren't you? You will be for some time, I accept that. Just as I was. But let me tell you, sweetheart, life doesn't do anything capriciously. There is a purpose for everything."

"So then what's the purpose for this?" Dawn snapped.

"All in good time, Dawny girl. All in good time."