DECEMBER 22, 2028-

Joni took it all in. The cabin around her was painted in muted yet strangely inviting tones. The tiny space was bathed in light, even without a discernable light source.

The furniture was antique and very ornate. There was an old-fashioned feel to the room but it wasn’t overpowering. It was like she’d stepped into an old friend’s world.

He took the kettle down from its place above the small stove, and turned to look at her, he smiled. For an instant Joni was reminded of the soft gaze of her father as Homer looked over his reading glasses at her, “You can sit, can’t you?”

She shook her head. No, it wasn’t possible. It was not. It could not be.

“…Sweetheart, you’d better sit before the floor comes up on you,” he reached into his small pantry to retrieve a bag, “And, I think I’ve changed my mind about the tea. Would you like cocoa instead?”

“Yes,” she said enthusiastically from her place at the small table, “My Daddy and I used to…” she saw the lines around his eyes pull up in a grin, and her heart skipped a beat, “But then, you knew that,” the world she knew was fast tilting on its axis. In order to keep her balance, he head followed suit, trying to keep her steady, “Didn’t you?”

Homer padded over to the table and placed two mugs, with his homemade cocoa blend, on the oak surface, straightened and put his hand lightly over his heart, “You caught me, Slayer. Straight to the heart,” his aged voice sounded like velvet to Jonina, “You got me. I did know,” he said as he turned to take his kettle from the stove and walked back to pour the heated milk for her.

“How?” she asked, watching as he slid into his chair with little difficulty. Joni was stunned. She knew she was just beginning to uncover something. And, she was not sure if she was ready to know, but she had to.

“Well,” he mused as he sipped from his cup, “working in a graveyard, one tends to see things, know things that most do not. I know there’s a Slayer. Just as I know my eyes are blue,” he smiled as he felt the cocoa warm his old bones, “They’re more grey now, but, they were blue once,” his head tilted in thought, “At least I think they were. I don’t really remember. It doesn’t matter, though. The point is, I know you. Your Da, he used to take midnight walks around the old stones here. He told me all about you.”

As Jonina took her first sip of cocoa, the sweet chocolate taste comforted her. She sighed as memories of late-night talks with her Daddy came flooding back and her eyes began to tear. She looked down in shame, “Was he ashamed of me?”

He couldn’t help but hurt for her. His heart ached at the empty tone in her voice. He swallowed the stone that was in his throat and asked, “Why would he be ashamed of you?”

“I don’t know,” she sniffed, “Maybe…” her eyes met his and the old man nearly sobbed at the mixture of pain and hope he saw in them, “Do you still see him?”

He wanted to hold her. Wanted to tell her that he understood and that he loved her. He wanted so many things for her. But, most of all, he wanted to tell her, but he couldn’t.

“No,” he said, “I don’t. But you do, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Homer nodded, taking her hand in his, “That will go away in time. It will get easier…”

Joni’s eyes flashed with hurt, “But I don’t want it to go away,” she whimpered, her voice made loud by the small space they shared, “I don’t want it to!” she wept openly, the tears cascading down her face, “He’s here. This is the only place he is. Here,” her gaze was hopeless, “and in my dreams. Dreams I don’t even understand,” she drew in a shaky breath, “Did I do something wrong? Is he mad at me?”

“No, that’s one thing I’m sure of,” Homer said sharply, making Jonina flinch. He squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her, “He is not angry. Not with you. He could never be.”

Watching her eyes widen, he realized his mistake, “You said is,” she whispered, the hope in her voice making him want to soar through the clouds.

He stuttered. Think fast. If he let too much slip, she’d be here forever. And, he’d never have her back and everything would be gone.

“Working in a cemetery one tends to get attached. Reality kind of slides,” he avoided her eyes, sheepishly, “Or, I could be just getting too old to know the difference. I’m sorry,” his eyes met hers again, “You wanted to know about your father. About why your memories aren’t linear?” he questioned.

“Yes.”

“You do know that some of the disorientation is because you carry, in that big heart of yours, the experiences of all the Slayers.”

She nodded.

“…As well as some of your own. You know that the Slayer’s life can be,” his eyes drifted toward the ceiling, searching for the right word, “…different.”

She nodded again, impatient for him to get to the point.

“Yours has been more different than most. There are only a few Slayers that have ever had another chance. You’re one of them.”

“How?” she asked in an awed whisper.

Homer chuckled, “Your father. He’d burst through Hell to have you back in his arms. He did,” he looked at her with such an intense fire that it took her breath away, “And, he will.”
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The sight of that little baby cooing in the arms of the one man he saw as the devil incarnate was just too much. If Angel could have vomited, he would have.

Holland’s steel grey eyes feigned hurt, “Oh Angel, don’t look so peaked. I wouldn’t dare to drop her! This sweet thing is mine,” he smirked, “and always has been. Someone has to protect her,” the weight of Holland’s gaze made Angel cower, “You most certainly did not.”

Angel couldn’t stand it anymore. Just watching that serpent holding that child pulled him to his feet, “You hurt her,” he hissed, “and I’ll kill you!”

Holland shook his head sadly and tilted his head so that his twin wounds were visible to Angel. He ran his finger over the scar tissue, “Do you see these?” he said flatly, “You’ve already killed me,” his eyes flashed with a deep hatred when he noticed Angel had opened his mouth to protest. His index finger gestured for silence. Angel dutifully complied, “But you did. It may not have been your fangs that did the deed, but you were the agent of my death. You caused it to happen. Just as you took an innocent, and made him an agent of destruction.”

Angel’s eyes shone with confusion in the darkness of his Hell, “Do you mean Connor?” he shook his head in fierce denial, “No! He was just filling the empty space in him when I…” his voice trailed off, shamed into silence.

“…When you…stopped loving him?” Holland raised an eyebrow.

“But I didn’t!” Angel insisted.

Holland clicked his tongue, holding baby Jonina close to him, “You left him behind. You let him be taken, right from your arms, not once but twice! What’s a boy to think? If you loved him, why did he have to punch his way through Hell to get to you? You know you should have torn Hell apart looking for him.”
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OCTOBER 31, 2005- STANFORD UNIVERSITY

Stephen Riley looked up from his Literature term paper when he heard the knock at his door. He glanced questioningly at the glowing clock radio on his desk. Was it really three in the morning? It was, and he was nowhere near finished. Not if he wanted a decent grade from Professor Gilbert. She was a real witch.

He smiled a little at the flights his mind took when he was too tired to fight it. On the other hand, it might explain a few things. Oh boy, did he need a break.

He slowly unfolded his tired limbs and made his way to the door. He opened it to a face he’d only seen, fleetingly, once before. When his “Dad” ran Wolfram and Hart. He knew him. He knew that he was a vampire.

A nightmare made of leather and peroxide stood in front of him. There was rage and anguish in his eyes. Stephen knew that look. He’d seen it in the mirror when he found out who he truly was, “Has something happened to Angelus?”

Spike nodded grimly, “Yes. He came between me and my child,” his voice was raw and hollow, “I’m here, he’s not. I’m sure you understand.”

Stephen’s eyes widened in comprehension, “I think so,” he eyed his visitor suspiciously, “Why come to me? No one else should remember,” Stephen bowed his head, “It’s what he wanted.”

Spike showed him the file, “I go where I need to. And, I’m coming to you because you know where the dragons are. You know the lay of the land,” his eyes shot to the floor, and the rest came out in a raw whisper, “This is undiscovered country. And, there’s no one else.”

Stephen Riley sighed deeply as he felt the weight of the world settle on his shoulders again, “Come in,” he said.
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FRANKFURT, GERMANY

The doctors had never seen anything like it. This seemingly healthy young woman’s central nervous system had disintegrated within weeks. The team had done everything they could think of to stop the lethal cascade. Everything they knew, and some things they didn’t, couldn’t stop young Astrid Hoffmann from dying.

The death certificate listed the cause as unknown. But, it was known. And she was the first of many.
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“VERITAS” NIGHTCLUB

It felt like weeks, but it could have been only days since he’d left her here. The one who said he’d never leave had abandoned her.

The world went on. She did not. She was numb.

She blinked.

Lone looked at her blank eyes and knelt, taking her hand, “Don’t worry, Moon Pie. He said he’d be back once he had your little one back. He promised. And, he’ll be back,” Lorne’s optimism pained him as he saw the sobs trapped in her eyes. But, it was all he had to give her when the future was so unknown. He smiled sadly, “He may be brash, but he’s as dependable as the sunrise. He’ll find her. If anyone can, he will.”

Lorne only wished he believed his own words.
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