The Show Must Go On

chapter five: Reunions

Sometime during the wee hours of the morning, the last of the wounded were finally tended to, and Buffy, Dawn, Andrew, and Xander finally made it away from the battlefield. They had scarcely gone two steps when they were greeted by Willow, who looked similarly tired. Wordlessly, she embraced Xander first, then Dawn, then Andrew, and finally Buffy.

Buffy held her tightly; she hadn't realized just how much she had missed Willow. "Thanks for the mojo back there," she said finally, "you saved us all."

Willow waved her hand, a tired smile on her lips. "Yeah, well, what's new?"

With genuine wonder, Buffy marveled at the woman Willow had become. She was so strong now, so confident. It seemed that hardly anything remained of shy little Willow Rosenberg from high school; but then, who was the same anymore?

The smile slowly faded from Buffy's lips. "You heard about Giles?"

And there was that spark of old Willow; she looked very small suddenly, and very tired. "Dawn told me. He...did it hurt much?"

But Buffy couldn't even bear to think of it. "I don't know...I don't think so. He seemed– peaceful."

"Good." Willow said, setting her mouth to keep her tears from spilling. Xander reached out to squeeze her shoulder, and she took his hand gratefully. "We're having the funerals tomorrow– sort of a combined memorial to everyone. And it'll be at night, so– you know– everyone can come who wants to."

Andrew glanced around, scratching at his head before hesitantly raising his hand into the air. "And what are we supposed to do until then?"

"Sleep," Willow replied, smiling at the thought. "Do you guys have a place to stay?"

Buffy shook her head ruefully. "Not so much as no. We kinda came at this thing half-tilt. Not big on the planning."

"Who needs to plan?" Xander quipped. "We're experts on this whole Apocalypse thing."

"Angel."

Dawn had blurted the words so abruptly that even she seemed surprised by them; everyone turned to frown at her, and she managed a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I'm not having a Terrets moment, or anything. He offered to let us stay at that old Hyperion Hotel thing earlier on tonight. I just forgot about it until now."

"Well, that solves one problem," Buffy said with more brightness than she felt. It might be kind of awkward to run into Angel after their previous conversation, but she was too tired to care. And it made her feel weird and sort of achy to be fighting with Angel, anyway. The sooner she patched things up with him, the better.

They made their way to the hotel tiredly but with little incident. Buffy and Willow had already been there before, but Andrew, Xander, and Dawn all looked visibly stunned by the place.

"Hate to say it, but score one for Dead Boy," Xander said grudgingly. "This place is really structurally sound." Seeing the stares of his friends, he sheepishly added, "Guess you can take the boy out of construction but not the construction out of the boy..."

It seemed they weren't the only ones who'd been invited to stay. Buffy saw various friends from the battle wandering around the halls, some offering to share toothpaste and soap and the likes. But there was no sign of Angel, nor of a certain other ensouled vampire.

After some minor debate, Buffy and Dawn took a room on the third floor with Xander and Andrew right next door. Willow left to join Kennedy, who was rooming near some of the other former potentials.

"I know this should be shower-time," Buffy confessed to Dawn as she collapsed onto the bed, "but I'm too tired to move. Wake me for the next Apocalypse, all right?"

Dawn was silent for a moment, and Buffy thought she'd fallen asleep. But then the younger girl abruptly rolled over, her blue eyes searching Buffy probingly. "He's still alive, isn't he?"

Buffy didn't even have to guess to whom Dawn was referring. "Yes," she answered truthfully.

Dawn sat up, gathering her knees into her chest. There was a look of open betrayal in her face; Buffy recognized it well. "I thought I recognized him, for just a second," the youngest Summers murmured, "but he was supposed to be dead. I should have known better. Why did he lie to us?"

"I don't know, Dawnie," Buffy said quietly, reaching out to stroke her sister's hair. "Maybe...he felt it was what he had to do." Or maybe he was tired of me.

"I hate him," Dawn said after a moment, her voice thick with emotion.

Buffy's hand stopped midstroke. She took a moment to compose herself. "Dawn, whatever Spike's reasons wer for leaving, they had nothing to do with you. If it was anyone, it was me."

Dawn laughed bitterly. "Yeah, well, the monks made me out of you, remember? So if he did it to you, he did it to me, too."

Touched by this show of loyalty, Buffy cupped Dawn's face in her hands, smiling. "I kind of love you, you know that?" Dawn managed a weak smile, and Buffy let her hands drop back into her lap. "Hey, we don't have to think about this now. Let's get some sleep, all right?"

Hesitating only momentarily, Dawn finally nodded and lowered her head to the pillows. In a matter of moments, she was asleep. Buffy watched her for a moment and then crept into the bed beside her, hugging herself as the tears came and came and came.
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Angel loitered around the entrance to the emergency room. He didn't have to wait long; it was only three minutes later that a certain familiar teenage boy came wandering out. Connor stopped in his tracks at the sight of Angel, smiling sheepishly. "Um, hi."

"Hi." Angel returned, looking pointedly to the cast on Connor's arm.

Connor cleared his throat. "Right. Well, I was going to follow your advice and get out of town, but then I fell off my bike. Which I was riding. And, you know, broke my arm."

Angel smirked. "Yeah...lying really isn't your strong suit."

They fell into step beside each other. "What does that mean, anyway?" Connor inquired. "A strong suit, that is. I mean, is it like a suit made out of steel or something? Or do they mean that the colors won't fade when you put it in the wash– "

"Cards," Angel interrupted. Connor blinked at him, and so Angel elaborated, "It's referring to cards. Your strong suit– like, your suit of cards."

"Oh." Connor blinked a few more times. "I guess that actually makes much more sense."

Angel glanced over at him, the smile fading from his face as he realized the danger his son had faced that evening. "You shouldn't have come tonight." he said simply.

"I knew you'd say that," Connor returned, "mostly 'cuz you've already said it, but also because you're pretty much the stubborn type. But from where I stood, it looked like you guys needed my help. I saved more than one life, I'll have you know."

Angel hated to admit it, but Connor was right. When had he gotten to the point when his son was right and he was wrong?

But instead of admitting this, he motioned to Connor's arm. "Is that the only thing you injurred?"

"Yep," Connor said, puffing his chest out proudly, "score one for miracle boy."

"You're lucky then," Angel returned, looking away.

Connor stopped in his tracks, looking at Angel in concern. "Hey, what happened?"

"I lost the last of my people tonight," Angel confided in him. "Wesley and Gunn. Fred went a little while ago...and so did Cordelia." It had been months, but still he could barely manage to say the words.

"I'm sorry." Connor was silent for a moment, and then he glanced up. "My memories are still a little fuzzy from that other life. Cordelia was the one I..." He clapped his hands and rubbed them together.

Angel frowned at him. "I'd prefer it if you never do that again."

Flushing, Connor jerked his hands apart. "Right. Sorry."

They began to walk again. "Yeah, that was her," Angel confirmed, "or, at least, someone who had her body. I'm a little unclear on that whole thing."

Connor looked at him sympathetically. "You loved her, didn't you?"

Angel took in a deep breath, then nodded. "Yeah. I did."

"I'm sorry," Connor said again.

"Life goes on." Angel said. He hesitated for a moment before placing his hand on Connor's shoulder, meeting his gaze with an intensity of emotion that he rarely let anyone see. "Your life goes on," he murmured, "That's all that matters to me."

Surprised, Connor merely stared at him for a moment. And then he nodded.