“…Daddy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. When I find Rabbit, I promise I’ll take good care of her. I scared her away…Make her come back, Daddy. Please…?” Joni murmured into his neck, her eyes turned away from her.

She wanted to comfort her. The tears were exhausting her, but she seemed too frightened, and too hurt to fall into the sleep that Buffy knew wanted her.

Sleep should be a blessing for her, and it would be, if she didn’t seem so confused. She was talking about her toy. It was a he, her protector. All she knew was her Daddy, and, her rabbit. She called it, “Spike…”

Joni was all he had.

His haunted eyes looked up at her, pleading.

Had she said his name out loud?

He looks so tired…

How did Rabbit become a she? The protector has somehow become a “She.” Could it be…? Does she know something? Oh…no. No! No, not this young. I didn’t think. Joni, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. And now…

Sleep would be a blessing. Because, listening to her crying, while she stood by and did nothing, was sheer agony.

It would be a blessing. But, it was something Buffy knew she didn’t deserve, because she did not know how to comfort her own daughter.

She was a mother now. Moms should know how to do this. Joni shouldn’t have to…He shouldn’t have to…Oh, I missed so much…

This was something only her Daddy knew how to salve, and she envied him for it.

“Hush, now, Baby,” Spike cooed, as her stroked her hair, “It’s all right. This place is very scary. I know that. But, it would be scarier if you weren’t here, Dove. I love you so much,” he told her, his voice heavy and shaken from the unspoken terror that Buffy saw in his gaze as it shone back at her, speaking of all the things they both knew little girls should not have to know existed outside of their nightmares.

The things she knew of, and so did Spike. And now, she was horrified to know, so did their little girl.
****************************************************************

The battle-worn toy stared back at Oscar as he waited for his offspring to wake. He’d rescued it from the grimy rail yard where it had been forgotten, in favor of the living. He’d rescued it because it helped him remember, kept him connected to the things he loved.

It helped him remember the things that were, and were not. The things that are, and are not. Did it really matter? Would it help anything? Was this for his Diana, or was it for himself? Would this help William achieve what no other vampire had, or would taking from Liam what William had willingly given away, to save his family, ruin the thing he had come here to protect?

He could already feel things changing. His memories were becoming more like dreams to him now.

When William died, he’d been so sure…But, William was delusional, out of his mind. His body was ravaged with sickness and pain, with what Angelus had done to him, by way of the amulet that had closed the Mouth of Hell.

Was what he remembered memory at all? Were his memories delusions, now?

DECEMBER 18, 2027- NEW ENGLAND-

Oscar took a deep breath, not out of necessity, but out of fear. Whatever it was that had pulled him here, it was strong, too strong to be held inside this little cottage.

He looked around. Snow on the roof, warm light streaming from the windows. He could almost smell the gingerbread he was sure was baking in the oven.

It was like something out of Diana’s fairy stories…

* Oh, God…Diana… *

He sniffed the air again, and that’s when it hit him. It wasn’t gingerbread. That smell- it was death.

Death was in this house. It was so close, and it wasn’t he who was its messenger.

Oscar slowly made the Herculean climb up the three steps that lead to the front door. He had never felt such an ominous sense of fear. There was something in this tiny house that he did not want to face, and yet something had drawn him here and he knew that he had to find out what it was.

What, in this world, had been powerful enough to draw him here?

His fist clenched at his side. He did not want to know. His fingers cramped with the effort of his rebellion. He would not. He could not. It would not have him, this fear.

His muscles tensed. He would leave. Turn around. This was not something he wanted.

And still, he was powerless to fight it.

He found himself raising his fist…

He knocked. And was suddenly met by the powerful gaze of a witch, when the tiny door opened, as if he was expected.

Perhaps he was.

Hers was the power he’d felt, the power that had drawn him from the corners of the earth. He could see the power she had. It was in her, it radiated from her, like the sunlight he’d so long ago forsaken.

She was strong, but beneath that, he felt something stronger. An undercurrent. The enemy.

“Slayer,” he whispered, as the fear he felt with the enemy so near made the demon within rise to protect itself.

The reaction from the witch was not what Oscar expected. She stood there, her lips slightly parted. And then, she did something that surprised him.

She smiled.

“Buffy,” Willow sighed as the relief washed over her. She’d done something right, something to make up for the mess she’d made, “I think it worked. He’s here.”
*********************************************************

Oscar’s eyes roamed the dark space. The dull glint of the little toy’s stone eyes was the only light here. It had to be this way, this gentle awakening. It was something Liam didn’t deserve, but if it wasn’t this way, his offspring could easily be driven insane, much as his sire had been.

There must be no trauma attached to this young vampire’s awakening. Every care had to be taken to ease the transition. And so, it was dark, and he was quiet, refusing to speak until he know that Liam was safely through the pain, and the hunger that Oscar knew was coming.

He knew this was a kindness that Angelus did not offer Drusilla, but there was a method to his kind of madness.

It had to be safe for Liam, because he did not want his memories to be shattered. Liam had all of Angelus’s memories, memories that William would need, and this was the only way to preserve them.

This was the only way he knew to help Jonina. The only thing he knew that could even begin to contain her grief.

She felt responsible for her father’s death. Joni had told him so, with her own words.

MARCH 21, 2028- NEW HOPE CEMETERY-

Oscar had never been so happy to see the Slayer. He sighed in relief as he wended his way through the rows of tombstones to reach her.

“There you are,” he breathed as he knelt next to her, “You had your mother worried sick.”

She did not acknowledge him, just stared straight ahead at the tombstone ahead of her, “Tonight would have made twenty-three years,” she murmured.

He nodded, “Almost as many years as you’ve been alive. Their wedding anniversary?” he asked, his quiet musing loud in the cemetery.

She said nothing.

“May I ask you something, Jonina?”

Again, she said nothing, her eyes fixed on the letters etched in the stone. Oscar had to admit that he couldn’t generate even the slightest sympathy for this one.

He had too much history with Liam Donovan.

But, he had an even longer history with the boy who had been William Dustin. And right now, William’s daughter was in pain.

A pain he wanted to ease, if he could.

“Did you love your father?” Oscar asked.

The light of venom that suddenly flashed in the dark graveyard, in his direction, gave him his answer.

“Do you think he loved you?”

“I know he did. But, he shouldn’t have. I’m the reason he’s not here. I made Mommy smash the amulet. I didn’t know what it would do,” she was starting to sob, quietly, as she let the weight she’d been carrying for months go, “I thought he’d be better. He was, for a while. It was the best week of my life,” she smiled through her tears, “He gave me so much…told me things. I loved him so much. But then…and then Uncle Angel…He was the only one that knew, but he wouldn’t tell. Too wracked with guilt, I guess. But, what good is guilt? What good is being quiet about what happened back then? He knew about what happened. Homer told me…”

“Homer?”

“The old caretaker here. He died the night that Mommy broke the amulet. He told me Uncle Angel knew why Daddy got sick.”

“And, did your Uncle Angel know?”

“If he did, he didn’t tell me. And now he’s dead.” she gritted her teeth, and Oscar could smell the anger she carried in her on the light breeze that blew around the yard, “And so is my Daddy! Why did he have to try and be a hero?”

“I don’t know. Maybe that’s just…who your Daddy was.”

“There will never be another anniversary,” her voice shook with the loss that tore at her soul, “I’ll never see them dance again, and it’s all because of me.”

He understood her pain, but he understood William’s as well. There is nothing he would not do, would not have done, to see his Diana grow into a young lady like Jonina. He would willingly have died a horrible death so that she could live.

Oscar sighed as he stood up. There is no way he could tell her, in a way she would understand. After all, now that her Daddy was gone, she had no reason to believe what life really meant to a vampire.

The only reason the Slayer even let him exist was because of his connection to her father.

“Let’s go home, Joni. Your mother is worried about you.”

No, he could not let her be burdened with the guilt she had carried. If Liam had information that would ease this family’s pain, make what was ahead for William mean something to them, then he would give it.

He would make sure of it.

If an intact sire’s bond would help him be more persuasive, if it might make Liam see the wisdom of sharing what he remembered, so much the better.
*******************************************************************

Buffy sighed. The tears had finally dried, and the cuts were cleaned. Joni was in a fresh, white cotton nightgown, and Spike was kneeling on the floor, tucking her into her sleeping bag. He kissed her eyes as he murmured to her, “We love you, Joni. I love you. You’ll never know just how much.”

“I love you, Daddy, and Mommy, too,” she said softly, as if her words were a kiss. She smiled as her Daddy snuggled down close to her, releasing his worry and pain with a heavy, contented, breath.

“May I sing to you, Joni?”

She nodded quickly, “Yes, Daddy. Please?” she asked, sweetly.

Spike caressed her hair, and placed the smallest of angel kisses on her temple. He closed his eyes for a moment, lost in memory, and maybe the only bit of happiness that place had to offer him.

He slowly opened his eyes, and began to sing softly, his voice drifting lightly out into the hall, and began to fill the building with the love he felt for his child, “Baby mine, dry your eyes. Baby mine, don’t you cry…”

As Buffy watched this heartbreaking scene from the doorway, she felt tears prick at the backs of her eyes. She hoped Spike was right. She hoped that Joni didn’t know how much her Daddy could love. Because, if she did know, then that would mean she was a Slayer.

If she was a Slayer, then she did know. She knew what had happened to him, and what would happen. And, that was a heavy weight to carry.