Title: The Unknown

TV Show: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Author: Beloved Slayer

Rating: T

Summary: It's Halloween and Buffy is more than joyous to celebrate the spooky occasion, until she experiences an age old phenomena that may bring her and Angel closer after many years of separation.

Author's Notes: Takes place sometime after Not Fade Away and Chosen, but is alternate universe and a one-shot. As far as where I got the story idea from, a while back, I read a piece that two people who are very connected to each other despite distance, location, etc, can sense and feel when the other is in pain, so I thought it would be an interesting idea to use for this, considering that it's Halloween, a holiday which the supposed veil between the worlds becomes thin. All feedback is encouraged, as always, but no pressure! None of the characters belong to me and the line in italics at the beginning of the chapter are Buffy's thoughts. Enjoy guys, and I wish you all a Happy Halloween if you celebrate it.

Chapter One

Tonight, the unknown will come. I wonder what it will bring me...

The night was brisk and ominous.

Leaves cackled and crunched in the near distance. Owls hooted above the barest of oak and redwood branches; appearing as if they were reaching desperately for the heavens. The harvest moon shimmered; its light orange beams casting an eerie luminance over the neighborhood, fending off against malevolent shadows that defied nestling in the numerous cracks they were currently occupying.

She felt a chill abruptly coursing through her skin, goose bumps rising. Seconds later, a searing pain awakened through her bones, bringing her to her knees as she gasped, immediately inhaling a quick intake of breath as her body hunched over the kitchen island, the butcher knife she wielded dropping to the floor with a reckless loud clank as she clutched her chest in a feverish motion.

"Buffy! Are you okay? Answer me!" Willow's voice called out from the living room as she hurriedly entered the kitchen with a frown on her face, tendrils of red hair flying about. "Angel," Buffy whimpered with a cry. The tears from her eyes began to flow, blurring her vision under the harsh florescent lights.

"Angel?" Willow kneeled beside her, brows knitting together in confusion.

"Something's…happening to him. I can feel it. It's killing me, Will. It hurts so damn much. I can't breathe right. I can't..talk right. It feels like my soul is being ripped apart. I can feel that it's killing him too. It's making me feel so helpless," Buffy continued to cry out, clenching her teeth together, her face a mask of immense pain. "Oh, God. Angel. What if he's dying? What if he's dead? I can't lose him! I just can't."

"You can't think that-" Willow began, her hands clasping Buffy's as she gently escorted her to the nearest recliner. "Why not? What if something's happening to him? What if he's losing his soul again? I can't take it if it comes to that. I don't think I can take having to kill him again. I won't have the strength to face him," Buffy wailed in a rare expression of fear, her lips trembling. It was the first time in years that Willow had witnessed the Slayer behaving vulnerably. No man but Angel himself had been able to cause a similar effect on her.

Lilting her head to the armrest, Buffy's mind was hit with mental images of Angel's newfound suffering. Arching her back, she clawed aimlessly at the armrest, muttering his name in a way that couldn't be quieted, ripping and tearing the forest green fabric apart.

In her mind she saw him, bare in his vampiric form, surrounded by streams of white light that were striking at him, attacking him until he could no longer protect himself. He howled in agony, his eyes brimming with tears, and the deepest part of the Slayer rose in anger, wanting desperately to come to his aid.

Moments later, the beams of light vanished, leaving the vampire with a soul to his devices before he disappeared in a cloud of onyx smoke.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Buffy repeated in shrill unison, her eyes opening and closing, unable to prevent a fresh set of tears from spilling, her eyes reddening. "Buffy, what's happening?" Willow shook her shoulder furiously, her heart wrenching at the sight of her best friend thrashing wildly against an invisible force. Her eyes widened; her body still and unable to fight. Buffy answered with a sullen, knowing look, avoiding Willow's gaze.

"He's gone. He's…just gone, Will. I couldn't save him. I lost him. How am I gonna deal with him being gone? Someone or something took him away from me! I can't let this happen." She clawed a hand through her disheveled hair, her eyes peering emptily at the burgundy crown moldings, defeat and sadness overtaking her. Replacing the lungs in her chest was a heavy weight that she couldn't ignore nor suppress.

The half part of her soul had died, and it was never coming back.

Without waiting for an additional response, Willow took the broken Slayer into her arms.

Naked and stark cold, he cradled the infant against his chest before landing on the first cement step with a soft thud, shooting stars of pain swiveling through his arms and legs, the vision in his eyes shifting in and out of focus against the grains of darkness that was the sky, his hair matted against his angelic face, deep brown eyes filled with a look of lost and bewilderment.

Where was he? Most importantly, why was he feeling pain? He was a vampire, for God's sake.

Your duty is completed, noble Champion. The Prophecy has been fulfilled. A vampire? You are no longer. Nor is your son. You are able to begin life anew in the daylight. Go, be with the one you love. Find the Slayer. She needs you.

His mind reverted to one word. Buffy. She had felt his pain. As he had felt hers before he had disappeared into the void. They were one, and separation, at this point, was no longer a factor of keeping them apart. Perhaps most importantly, Connor would gain a mother who would love, care, and protect him at all costs.

All Angel had to do was find her.

He glanced up towards the porch, recognizing its' familiarity. He hadn't need to look very long.

Unable to gather the strength to pull himself on his feet, Angel outstretched his hand, reaching for the doorbell. Cradling his son closely to shield him from the cold, Angel, the former vampire, fell into a deep slumber. The last image in his mind brought forth a memory of himself giving his beloved a claddagh ring, declaring to the entire world that she was his.

"I'll get it," Buffy announced unemotionally, rising slowly to her feet as she attempted to dry her eyes with the sleeve of her baseball shirt. A tingling sensation developed in the pit of her stomach, something that she hadn't felt in years. A strange look flitted her face.

Could it be...?

"Angel? He can't be alive," she tried to convince herself, but she managed to continue walking towards the door, hesitation on her part. Reaching for the cool brass knob, she unbolted the locks, opening the door slowly to reveal a naked man and a child wrapped in his arms, both in the beginning stages of slumber.

Buffy's heart began to pick up speed. "Angel?" she whimpered, tears gathering in the hazel pools of her eyes as she leveled herself beside him, relief overwhelming her to the point of dizziness. Quickly, she gathered a blanket that hovered near the door, placing it gently around their breathing bodies.

She didn't stop herself from placing his head gently in her lap, tenderly caressing his moist face as she was careful not to allow the child to slip from his arms, her fingers tracing the curves of his lips and face structure.

Against her hands, for the first time, he felt warm to her. "Angel?" she announced carefully for the third time, aware of his eyes fluttering, opening towards her. His mouth widened slightly, dark brows stitching together. "Buffy?"

"It's really you. You're here. And you're warm. I can feel your pulse. Tell me it's not a dream," she mumbled in a awed whisper before breaking down again for the second time that night, her body hovering protectively over his and the child's, arms wrapping around them, welcoming them into her strong embrace.

She placed passionate kisses throughout his neck and chin; anywhere that she could manage as his lips found hers, their tongues intertwining, lapping against one another before reluctantly breaking their lips apart.

"All of it is real. I'm not going anywhere. Not this time," Angel announced in a loving manner, his hand reaching to caress her cheek softly. "I'd thought I lost you," Buffy cried onto his shoulder, inhaling his fresh, human scent. "I felt your pain. I felt what you were going through. I couldn't stand it. For a second, I wanted to die than to feel you suffering."

"I felt your pain too, Buffy. It was more than unbearable. More than those years I spent in hell. Believe me. But I don't want you to focus on that. We got a second chance to start over. And there's someone here that I want you to meet." Angel sat up, tugging at the blanket while one arm was supporting Connor, revealing his delicate face towards the Slayer. "He looks just like you. He's beautiful," Buffy queried, smiling despite the continuing tears and flushed cheeks. Her fingers reached out to wrap against the small ones that were wriggling against his father's chest. Brown eyes meeting Buffy's, Angel remarked determinedly, "His name is Connor. He's our family. Our son. This is just the beginning. This is my gift to you." His lips met hers as he pulled her into his embrace, his heart beating against the palm of her right hand. To her, it was the most beautiful sound in the world, but something caused her to pause at his words.

"My gift? Angel, you don't have to be ashamed about Darla. Willow told me what happened," Buffy replied sternly, adding distance between them. "I didn't believe her at first. Vampires having kids? It wasn't possible then. Not in our line of work."

"Buffy-" Angel began to interrupt. Buffy raised her hand, stalling him. "When she told me, I was in denial. I didn't want to believe that the only man I ever loved would purposely go behind my back and have kids with someone else, much less Darla, who, a long time ago, wanted us both dead. At first, I felt that it wasn't fair. How come you and I couldn't have kids with the curse, but you and her somehow did? I remembered not too long ago, before you left for L.A., that you told me that you wanted me to have a normal life, something outside demons and darkness. You wanted me to find a man who could take me into the light. After you left, that was when I realized that I didn't want to have a family with anyone but you. I still do, even before I found you on the porch. All this time I was waiting for you to come back into my life, hoping we could find some way to have that."

"Buffy-"

"Please, let me finish. Connor may not be my flesh and blood, and Darla may be her son, but I'm more than willing to be what he needs right now in this world. A mother. I'm willing to give us a chance, even after everything." She reached out to brush her fingers slightly against Angel's, softly caressing the tips, sending shivers through his fiery skin.

"I'm sorry," Angel apologized, remorse filling his eyes. "I'm sorry for not telling you in the first place. I was scared that you'd be angry."

"Don't be," Buffy stated. "You're here with me. That's all that matters."

"Are we officially a family then?" Buffy solemnly nodded. "We are. And hopefully, we can give Connor a brother or sister down the line now that you're human." Buffy wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. Angel smirked. "Definitely. Am I forgiven?"

Buffy glanced into his eyes before pressing her lips against his warm ones, attempting to release the guilt in his eyes.

"Always."

Fin.