Author's Note: This is the final chapter of the story. I'm so glad you've gotten this far; I hope you've enjoyed the ride as much as I have enjoyed writing this. I've upped the rating to R, just because the last chapters were pretty violent and such. I've really learned a lot about both writing and fanfiction in general with this story; thanks for being patient with me. The sequel will start up by March at the very latest, and that's only if I decide to write something else (a Buffy/Batclan crossover bouncing in my brain) in the interim.

Peace and humptiness to all my readers.


Chapter Nineteen
What Dreams Come Tomorrow

They drove back to the house in Katharine's car, which they found just outside the warehouse fence. Morbid, but practical, considering Xander's truck was now in the middle of a huge fire.

Xander drove, and Robin sat shotgun. The Slayers piled into the back seat, although neither Rona nor Faith were big enough to make it much of a tight fit. No one said a word as they drove back to the others in their fallen friend's car.

Robin glanced over at Xander a few times. He could tell, just as he had predicted to Faith months ago, Xander was taking the death of his Slayer hard. Robin was torn -- part of him wanted to say something, to tell Xander that what happened to Katharine wasn't his fault, that unless he planned to drug, knock out, or tie down his Slayer she would've gone after her sister and the vampires who took her. Especially after the dream she had.

Another part of him didn't care. That part figured Xander deserved whatever guilt and self-loathing he could come up with, and then some more on top of that. That part wondered if Xander was screwing Katharine, too, or if it was just his girlfriend that Xander had sex with.

So Robin said nothing. He wasn't sure what words would come out if he did, and he wasn't sure which part of him he agreed with -- if, indeed, it wasn't both parts.

-:-

The numbness of shock wore off as Xander drove back to the house, slowly faded away to reveal anger and shame.

Failure, again. How he ever thought -- how Giles and Robin ever thought -- he would be able to keep these girls safe was beyond him. He was Xander Harris, son of Tony Harris, and that was all the reference they ever should've needed to kick him out on his ass and lock him away from Slayers for the rest of his life.

Xander could see Robin look over at him several times, out of the corner of his eye (right side, right side, good side), and he hoped like hell Robin didn't feel the need to open his mouth and make some sort of speech or something. Xander was not in the mood for clichés or platitudes or whatever mission-oriented tripe Robin would spew out. Robin was the only one who had yet to lose a Slayer; what the hell did he know about what Xander was going through?

He glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw Faith consoling Janet and Rona. The two younger Slayers had tears in their eyes, but not Faith. Of course not Faith. She was far too tough to cry over just some girl -- she hadn't even bothered to call Katharine by her real name, instead she used that stupid nickname crap she used with all the girls. The only thing that made Faith cry was Angel's death; she could cry over the loss of the stupid, brooding, evil vampire, but not a girl whose life and safety and training was in her hands.

Of course not. That wasn't tough.

Xander reached up and angled the mirror so he didn't have to see the girls in the back. It messed up his view of the road behind him, but at that moment, he didn't really much care if he got them all killed. It certainly wouldn't surprise him, and seemed a fitting end to the day.

-:-

Everyone was at Willow's house when they arrived. The other Slayer groups, all too far away from the warehouse to arrive in time to help, both quickly returned home after Giles called them to learn their position. So they sat around and waited, unable to do anything -- not an ideal state for five angry Slayers, one worried Watcher, and a stressed-out witch.

Xander's cell phone was still in his car, so he couldn't call in to tell Giles how things went.

Everyone jumped up when they arrived at Willow's house. No one spoke; they didn't have to. Robin, Rona, Faith, Janet, and then Xander entered through the front door, and the door closed behind him.

-:-

The fire raged unchecked at the warehouse for almost twenty minutes before someone alerted the fire department.

Cole bypassed the very simple security system in the warehouse when the vampires gathered there after the raid on the Slayer's house two nights earlier. The fire-response system was tied in with the security -- interesting, for a seldomly-used warehouse full of flammable materials, and probably a deliberate ploy to cash in on insurance money -- so even with the intense fire on the floor, the alarm never went off.

Contrary to action films, it takes a very specific set of circumstances for the gas tank of a vehicle to explode. However, it certainly didn't take much for the truck to catch fire, gasoline and all, and the fire spread quickly.

-:-

"I think we should all try to get some rest," Giles finally said.

They all sat around in Willow's living room, quiet and subdued. It was the first anyone spoke since they all returned from the warehouse.

"I'll drive you guys back to your place, Giles, since you all rode here with me," Xander said.

-:-

Faith and Robin entered their bedroom together after Xander dropped them off with Giles. Robin gently shut the door behind him as Faith sat on the edge of the bed.

Robin looked at Faith. She had a few cuts on her face from her fall, but nothing too serious. She'd pulled her hair out from a ponytail, and it fell down over her face as she looked down at the floor. She looked so small, her shoulders turned down and her body curling into itself.

He tried to be angry -- she cheated on him and lied to him, after all. It just wouldn't come. He was too tired and too emotionally drained for an argument, hurt, or guilt. He just felt numb, and a quiet resignation.

"I'll leave," Faith said quietly. "I'll find somewhere else to sleep tonight."

"With him?" Robin asked.

Maybe he could be a little angry, after all.

Faith looked up at him scornfully. "No, not with him, unless you think I'm passing out favors to both him and Andrew."

Chagrined, Robin shook his head. "No. I don't. I forgot he has a roommate."

"Yeah, well." Faith hesitated. "Figured I'd crash in Dawn's room. I -- I don't want to stay in the spare room here."

"No, I get that," Robin said. He wouldn't want to stay in Katharine's room, either.

Faith grabbed a duffel bag from the closet and tossed some clothes and personal items into it.

"What did I do wrong?" Robin asked.

Faith stopped, looked at him over her shoulder, confused. "What? When?"

"With you." He shook his head. "I treated you best as I could. I never lied to you or used--"

"Aw, hell, Robin--"

"No, I just don't get it!" Robin took a deep breath and calmed himself. Too drained to get mad, indeed, he though. "I don't understand what he has that I don't."

"It ain't you, Robin," Faith said.

"Then what is it about him?"

"It's not him."

"Well, it has to be something, you had sex with him--"

"You got the screwed-up slutty Slayer, what the hell did you expect? A pretty white wedding?" Faith said. "All those things I did on top of you, all those times I made you gasp and moan and scream, how do you think I did all that? Natural ability? Slayer skills? Please. I learned all that a long time ago." She grabbed her bag and walked to the door. "It ain't you. It ain't Xander. It's just me."

Faith opened the door, and the words slipped out before Robin could stop them, even though he knew they would hurt both of them.

"I loved you, Faith."

She hesitated for a moment, then walked out and shut the door.

-:-

Faith stopped in the hallway, just outside the door to her -- no, not her bedroom. Not any more.

She took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair. She hated hurting Robin, he had been good to her, but it was true. That was her, and nothing would change that.

Still, she never knew if it was Robin's voice or her ears that, when she heard his last words, put the emphasis on the past tense.

-:-

Kennedy, Kim, and Janet went to bed after everyone else left, but Willow stayed up to wait for Xander to get back. She could picture him in his dead Slayer's car, brooding and guilty, blaming himself for Katharine's death as he drove back from Giles' house.

He came back much later than the short drive to and from Giles' house required. She got the feeling he drove around both to stew in his thoughts and in hopes that, when he finally returned, everyone else would already be asleep. He came in silently, and it took him a few moments to notice her sitting in a chair.

He looked at her, and his face had the blank, overwhelmed look on it that Willow had seen before: after Joyce died, after Buffy died, in the nights after his failed wedding, and after Sunnydale collapsed. She knew he felt lost, and helpless, and a loss and grief beyond anything his mind could actually wrap itself around.

And, because he was Xander, he would feel that everything was all his fault, that somehow he should have prevented Katharine from going after Cole, or known she had a dream, or talked to her better -- or something.

"Will, you're--" Xander said. She didn't let him finish; she jumped up and grabbed him around the waist and held him tightly. She felt his arms slide tentatively around her shoulders and back as she buried her face in his chest. "I'm sorry, Willow," he whispered into her hair.

"No," she said. She shook her head against his chest, then pulled back a little bit to look up at him. She kept her arms around his waist, though, and his arms stayed around her shoulders. "No, it's not your fault, Xander."

"I--"

"I said no," Willow said firmly. "I can tell you're blaming yourself for what happened tonight, Xander, but it's not your fault."

She felt him pull back from her some, but she held on tightly. "If not mine, than whose?" he said.

"How about the vampires who killed them?" Willow said. She raised an eyebrow. "Don't forget about them, they--"

"I never forget anyone!" Xander said; it was almost a snarl. He put his hands on her shoulders and tried to push her away from him, but she held on. She wondered if this was how he felt on Kingman's Bluff; on the brink of a precipice, hanging on for the both of them while being pulled apart at the seams -- the only difference being that she had hurt him, and she knew he wouldn't hurt her. "I remember them all, everyone I was supposed to keep safe and couldn't--"

Willow remembered how, when they were in grade school, Xander always blamed himself for the arguments his parents got into, always felt that if he had just done something he could have stopped them. And he never forgot an argument, either; even years later, he could always name when his parents had fought and could list reasons it was his fault. "Xander, no," she argued, "nobody could've done anything more for--"

"I don't care!" he yelled. He slammed his hands down into the inside of her elbows, breaking her arms open from around his waist, and shoved her back away from him. "I let them--"

Her magic lashed out before she could think, reacting to the physical violence and her shock that Xander had actually pushed her, had actually hurt her. He flew back about eight feet and slammed into the couch, stunned but not really hurt.

He stared at her, his eyes wide and hard, and filled with an emotion she never thought she would see directed at her from him.

"Oh, Goddess," Willow whispered. Her hand came up to cover her mouth, and she took a tentative step forward. She heard steps on the stairs as the Slayers ran down. "Xander, I'm sorry, you just surprised me!"

Xander stood up slowly. He stared at Willow for a moment, then looked up at the three Slayers at the bottom of the stairs. "Just-- fuck all you guys," he snarled, and left the house.

-:-

Giles picked up Andrew from the airport the next morning.

Andrew came off the plane chattering to a man about the difference between the X-Men films and the true development of the characters over the forty-plus years the comic has run. Giles felt sorry for the poor man.

Andrew noticed Giles as he passed through the security checkpoint. He cut off his monologue without any explanation -- the man with him looked relieved -- and walked over to Giles.

"You look like you haven't slept since I left," Andrew said.

"It's been a rough past few nights," Giles said. He was beginning to adjust to Andrew's lack of tact, but British sensibility still made him squirm sometimes. "I'll tell you about it in the car."

"Oh, yay," Andrew muttered to himself. "That's a good sign."

-:-

Once in the car, Giles related the events of the past few days to Andrew.

"That fits a bit with what I found," Andrew said when the story was done.

He continued with his report in a manner much more serious and reserved than anything the Scoobies or other Slayers would think him capable of. "I met with the power-fluctuation mage you contacted about a week ago," he said. "It took some convincing, but eventually he agreed to do a reading for me if I translated some demon texts that he had there. Not interesting stuff -- nothing that could do any real damage, but we should probably try to keep an eye out that way anyway."

Giles nodded. "We'll do that, then. What did the mage find?"

"Things are changing in demon circles, big-time," Andrew said. "Especially in regards to demon-human hybrids. Dates back to last May."

"You think that the magic we worked has something to do with it?"

Andrew shrugged. "If Slayers harness demonic power like you say, I don't see any way it wasn't us. Mage said that the hybrids are more powerful now, especially vampires."

Giles nodded. "That would fit with what Faith said about the vampire she fought with the Scythe last night."

Andrew shrugged. "I guess. That's your area of expertise, not mine."

Giles thought for a few moments as he drove, then asked, "What did you learn in Los Angeles?"

"Place is basically anarchy," Andrew reported. "With the Circle gone, there's no true top power, but no one seems to be too keen on the idea of taking over. Some people seem to think Angel and company are still around, and it's all a ploy or something."

"Really? Do you think that's possible?"

Andrew scoffed. "Possible? Angel and Spike have both already come back from the dead once, and that's not counting being raised. They're like freaking Obi-Wan Vamp-obi. I'll believe anything at this point, but at the same time, I don't believe a thing."

Giles rolled his eyes. Even as a serious undercover operative, Andrew couldn't go ten minutes without some reference to popular culture. Giles had long since given up trying to kill the habit.

Didn't mean he wasn't right, though.

-:-

Willow sat in her office with the Scythe, ostensibly working on the problem of finding the new Slayers. She couldn't concentrate, though. When Faith approached and knocked on her door, it was actually a relief.

Until she found out what Faith wanted, at least.

"Find him," Faith said. Janet and Rona stood behind her -- Rona looked worried and anxious, but Janet looked incredibly pissed off. "I know you're pissed off, and that's cool, but... Do your magic thing and find him."

Willow sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. "Okay," she said, and opened her eyes again. "I need something that belongs to him."

Rona held out a Nightwing action figure, still in the original packaging.

"You sure that isn't Andrew's?" Willow asked.

"Yeah," Faith said softly. "Gave it to him for his birthday last year. He's always liked Nightwing."

Willow nodded. "Yeah. He has."

She took the action figure from Rona and gathered her spell components. She had no real desire to cast the spell, not yet; the harsh words from the previous night still hurt. She pushed her feelings aside -- who knew how they could mess up even a simple locator spell? Something she'd rather not find out, thank you very much. So Willow blanked her mind of everything but the spell at hand and cast it.

The result was exactly what she feared. Something she'd only seen mentioned in theory, practically the witchcraft equivalent of an urban legend, but still -- with all that had happened to Xander over the years, all the things and feelings he repressed -- not surprising.

Softly, under her breath, she swore.

"What is it?" Faith asked, an edge to her voice Willow didn't recognize.

"He's... gone," Willow said.

"Yeah, we know," Janet said. "That's why we're lookin' for him."

"No." Willow shook her head. "Everything in the world is connected, see--"

"Christ, Willow!" Janet interrupted, her anger evident from her tone and stance. "We don't care! Just tell us where the--" Willow glared at her, and Janet cut off. Her voice softened. "I heard what he said to you last night, Willow. Just tell us where he is."

"I can't." Willow spoke the words clipped, hard.

Faith stepped into the room; Willow could see the concern on her face. "You sayin' he's dead?"

"No, he's not dead." Willow paused. "At least, I don't think so. I can't be sure."

"So what the hell is going on?" Janet asked.

"I was trying to explain, but it's not easily summed up. You have to be patient." Janet held her hands up, palms open and forward, and Willow continued. "Like I said, everything in the world is connected. That's one of the basic principles of witchcraft, more than half my magic is based on that theory alone.

"A locator spell works off that concept. The things we own, we leave a trace of ourselves on them. The spell goes to find the person who put that trace on whatever object you use, but it has parameters -- that's how I can tell where the person is and if the person is dead, or in another dimension or something. With me so far?"

The Slayers nodded.

Willow continued, "But people change. Obviously. Usually it's gradual, so as long as you have something decently recent, it's fine, the spell works. Like, your second-grade book bag isn't going to work, because you're not really the same person now as you were back then."

"We didn't bring you Xander's second-grade book bag," Janet growled.

Willow ignored her. "But sometimes that can happen in a short period of time -- a few days whose events change the person a lot, or maybe something traumatic that culminates a long series of tragic events."

"You can't find him," Rona said softly. "He's changed."

Willow nodded. She wasn't going to cry in front of them -- she'd cried plenty the night before.

The three Slayers stood in the doorway for a moment. Janet was the first to move; she punched the door frame, hard, and stalked off. Rona watched her go, then turned to Willow and opened her mouth; whatever she was about to say, she thought better of it, and walked away silently. Which left Faith alone in the doorway.

"Is he alive?" Faith whispered after a few moments of silence.

"I don't know," Willow said. "I think so."

Faith stood there for a few more moments, and the look on her face changed to resolve. "Okay," she said, and walked off.

Willow wondered what she had planned.

-:-

Kim came into her room after a post-workout shower. Janet was on her bed, her hands behind her head and looking up at the ceiling.

"Hey," Kim said cautiously. She had no idea what type of mood her roommate would be in.

Janet didn't look over at her at all. "Hello," she said, her voice flat.

Kim grabbed some sweats and a t-shirt to lounge around in on her night off patrol. Janet never looked over while she changed -- not that she usually checked her out when she was naked or anything, but she usually at least seemed aware of her.

"You okay?" Kim asked. She was fully dressed before she spoke, which was not an accident; if Janet was pissy, she wanted to be ready to bolt. She was not in the mood to get chewed out for expressing sympathy, or being part of the only Slayer group yet to lose a Slayer.

"No," Janet said.

Kim waited, but that was it. Nothing more. "Listen, I'm-- I'm really sorry about Katharine," Kim said. It sounded insincere to her, even though she really meant it. "I wish there was something I could've done."

"Thank you," Janet said.

Kim nodded. Awkward. Definitely awkward.

She got to the door before Janet stopped her.

"Wait," Janet said. She sat up and looked at Kim for the first time. "You still thinking about that Slayers' Council stuff?"

"Yeah," Kim said. "I am."

Janet nodded. Slowly, she said, "So... what would we need to do?"

-:-

Willow sat outside Buffy's house, in the dark, and watched Faith slip out the window of Dawn's room. Faith slipped through the bushes on the side yard, a backpack slung over one shoulder, and Willow stepped out of the shadows while the Slayer was still several feet away.

"I had a feeling you'd be leaving," Willow said in response to the shocked look on Faith's face. "Saw it in you when you found out about Xander."

Faith's carefree mask came back up in a flash. "Uh-huh. Whatever."

"So you're leaving just because?" Willow said.

Faith shrugged. "No Watcher, don't got a boyfriend no more -- no reason to stay, Red."

"I can think of several -- including the ones you just named." Willow looked at Faith as the Slayer shifted back and forth on her feet. "You're going after Xander, aren't you?"

Faith looked up at Willow, swore under her breath, and nodded. She looked away as she spoke. "He believed in me, you know? Even when he had no reason to, maybe more than even Buffy did. I ain't gonna do any less for him."

"I get it," Willow said gently. "He did the same thing for me, after Tara died."

Faith looked at the ground and kicked something with the toe of her boot. "Don't tell no one, okay? I don't want no tearful goodbye or nothing, just... gone."

"Call me once a month, let me know what's up, and it's a deal," Willow said.

Faith nodded and walked past Willow. She got to the edge of the side yard and paused. "Hey, Willow -- you think, if I stayed, you and me'd ever be friends?" she asked softly.

"I think all the unresolved sexual tension would've prevented a lasting platonic bond," Willow joked. Faith laughed and wiggled her rear at Willow. Willow smiled, but quickly turned serious. "Find him, Faith."

Faith nodded. "Take care of my girls for me, Red," she said, and left.

-:-

Willow sat in her office the next afternoon and worked on the locator spell to find the new Slayers, although she had a very hard time concentrating. The events of the past few days had finally caught up to all of them, and everyone seemed to be in a state of shock.

At least, that's how Willow felt. It was just overwhelming, from the attack on Buffy's house to Helen's death and Audrey's abduction to Katharine's prophecy dream that lead her to her sister--

Willow jerked up straight in her seat as an idea struck her.

-:-

Giles sat in his office, behind the desk, and stared at the three Slayers in front of him in a shock so great he even forgot about polishing his glasses.

Janet -- apparently the spokeswoman for the three, as Kim and Vi stayed silent during almost the entire conversation -- just stared at him coldly. He could barely believe the level of hostility which radiated from her. Before, she had always been friendly and outgoing; now, today, she glared at him like he stole something from her.

"I-- I don't know how wise this is," Giles said. "It seems a bit rash--"

"Of course it does," Janet snapped. "To you. Because you're a Watcher."

Giles took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. He hadn't slept much the last few nights, and he was having a hard time keeping his temper in check. He understood where the girls were coming from, and he could see the benefits in such an organization -- one to run parallel to the Watchers' Council and watch out expressly for the Slayers' interests. The two organizations could work together and keep each other honest.

However, this early in the structuring and reformation of the Watchers' Council, he feared that the presence of a counter-organization -- however benevolent in intention -- would push the new Council to be far too much like the old Council. He wanted to finish the work of creating the new Watchers' Council before the Slayers organized. He wanted to find the other Slayers first. With the mood Janet was in, though, he couldn't think of a way to tell her that without her perceiving that he was against the idea.

The door to his office burst open before he could frame a reply.

Willow rushed in, her face flushed. "Giles! Giles, I--"

"Willow, we are in the middle of a meeting here," Giles admonished.

"But Giles--"

"Willow--"

"I figured it out, Giles," Willow said quickly.

Giles took a deep breath. Obviously, Willow wouldn't leave. "You figured what out?"

A confident, almost cocky grin spread across Willow's face. "How to find the Slayers," she said.

Janet, Kim, and Vi all stood up, shocked.

"Ohmygod-- are you serious?"

Willow nodded, her eyes still on Giles. "Yeah. Except, we won't really find them -- they'll find us."

"How do you mean?" Giles asked.

"I was thinking about--" Willow paused, and the excitement seemed to drain out of her for a moment. "I was thinking about the past few days, and specifically about the prophecy dream Katharine had that told her where to find Audrey." She took a deep breath, then shrugged. "And I realized that, while I can't find the new Slayers, I can get to the power source. Which is where the dreams come from."

"And send the unfound Slayers dreams to guide them to us," Giles said.

Willow nodded. "Exactly."

-:-

The end; to be continued in Of Those Chosen: The Dreamless