Tuesday, December 16^th, 1890, dawn, Clapham Common, London:

Buffy was awoken when someone laid a warm hand gently on her frozen, bare arm. She blinked and wiped the hard crusty tears from her eyes as she tried to focus.

“Dear lord, Avengelyne, you’re nearly frozen! Please forgive me, I should have never left you alone,” William told her, taking his coat off and wrapping it around Buffy’s shoulders as she sat up stiffly.

“You came back,” Buffy whispered, her voice rough and barely audible from crying. “I’m so sorry, William. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never meant to hurt you.”

William helped Buffy to her feet and guided her out of the pavilion and down one of the paths. “I understand – you were just trying to show me a different path, a better path. I acted like a cad and a coward, to take what you offered and then run away like you were a … street urchin. I beg you to forgive me.”

Buffy nodded as tears started anew … he was apologizing to her when it was she that had hurt him so badly. “It’s not your fault … I shouldn’t have … I shouldn’t have done that. You must think I’m a terrible person.”

“Never … I would never entertain that thought, Avengelyne. You just … I was just …” William started, his voice trailing off as they walked further into the Commons.

“Hurt,” Buffy supplied in a gravelly voice. “I didn’t mean to hurt you … I’ve done things that I’m not proud of, but hurting you is the worst … it’s something I never wanted to do – ever.”

William nodded solemnly as they turned a corner in the path and started walking onto a bridge that spanned a wide river.  Buffy looked around trying to get her bearings … she didn’t remember seeing a bridge or a river in the Commons yesterday … it was a big bridge – not just a footbridge, certainly she would’ve remembered that.

“What is this?” Buffy asked, waving her arm at the bridge they were walking onto.

“The London Bridge … over the Thames,” William supplied.

“London Bridge?” Buffy questioned, looking around. Buffy tried to remember the time she’d spent with Dawn in London when she first woke up in this crazy world. They had driven down to Clapham once, just to look around … and they’d been on some bridges, including London Bridge, but those two places weren’t that close to each other … were they? She wished now she’d paid closer attention.

“But … your house isn’t over the bridge,” Buffy pointed out the one thing she was sure of.

“No, but yours is,” William supplied as they got to the center of the bridge.  “This is as far as I go … you’ll find your destiny on the other side, Avengelyne,” he told her as he stopped just short of the halfway point.

“What … what does that mean?” Buffy questioned, looking from William then across the bridge to the other side. 

“Thank you … thank you for what you’ve done, for my life, for the children … all the children,” William told her softly, laying a hand on her cheek and kissing her gently on the lips before turning and heading back the way they’d come.

“B-But … what am I supposed to do?” Buffy called after him.

“Follow your heart,” William advised, and he was suddenly gone.

“Follow my heart …” Buffy repeated to herself, looking around in confusion. Suddenly a tremor shook the bridge, as if the world had just stopped spinning for a moment, and Buffy grabbed onto the railing to keep her balance. She leaned over the edge of the bridge and looked down at the water far below. She’d never seen water in a river look so tumultuous and angry. There were huge swells and waves raging below as if it were an ocean in the middle of a hurricane.

“Like a bridge over troubled water…” Buffy murmured to herself.

“Love can build a bridge… follow your heart,” Buffy continued to mutter as she turned towards the other side of the bridge and began running as fast as she could.  When she’d gotten nearly to the end she saw him … like a beacon in the dark, like a port in the storm … like a warm fire on the coldest night...

“Spike!!” she cried as she ran even faster, throwing herself into his arms when she reached the bank on the other side.

“God, Spike!” she cried as he caught her and spun her around then covered her mouth with his and devoured her lips in a desperate kiss while pulling her body tight against his with strong arms.

“Oh, God, Spike! Are you back!? Is it real or am I dreaming?” Buffy questioned, running her hands over his face, across his scarred brow, through his platinum locks, and down to his shoulders to make sure he wasn’t some kind of mirage.

“’Course I’m back, pet … I just took the bits to practice. I told you I’d be right back.  Are you sure that bump on the noggin isn’t worse than you’re lettin’ on?” Spike questioned, as he ran a hand over the back of Buffy’s head.

“Huh? What bump? What … what are you talking about?” Buffy questioned, searching his eyes for answers and running her own hand over the back of her head.

“Buffy, wake up, luv.  I hate talking to you when you’re snoozin’ … you never remember it later,” Spike advised as he shook her shoulder lightly.

Buffy blinked her eyes as everything suddenly went fuzzy; she tried to focus on his face and comprehend what he was saying. Buffy shook her head slightly and looked around again … she was in bed – in their bed, in Sunnydale, in the mansion on Crawford Street.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Spike questioned again as he sat on the edge of the bed next to her. “I know you hate the chop-shop hospital we got ‘ere, but …”

“Spike? What… what’s going on?” Buffy questioned as she sat up and looked around … it was definitely their room. Her head hurt and there was a pounding behind her eyes that she thought would pop her eyeballs out.

“Don’t you remember, luv? Blue demon, big stick …. used your skull for battin’ practice?” Spike asked with concern. “That’s it … we’re goin’ to the bloody hospital, I don’t care whatcha say …” he announced, standing up.

“Oh my God, Spike! You’re here … we’re here!” Buffy exclaimed, the pounding in her head suddenly feeling much better. She jumped up and grabbed him, pulling him into a hug that would’ve crushed a mortal man. “It was a dream…just a horrible, nightmare … Oh, God, oh, thank God…” Buffy murmured as she captured his lips in a frantic kiss.

“The babies! Where are the babies?!” Buffy asked, her eyes wild with emotions ranging from worry to excitement to utter relief. Before he could answer, Buffy grabbed his hand and headed out the door and down the hall, dragging Spike along behind her. She stopped first in Annie’s room … but she wasn’t in there, so she headed quickly to the nursery…

Buffy stopped short when she swung the door to the nursery open; all the air was sucked from her lungs and all the blood in her body seemed to go cold. Instead of a nursery, she found a room that belonged to young children, with two twin beds instead of two cribs. One bed had soccer and basketball pillows and Spiderman sheets with a Manchester United poster on one wall and a crouching ninja poster above the bed…

The other bed had sheets and a quilt depicting the solar system and a large, stuffed pillow that looked like a guitar was on the floor next to it. There was a dinosaur poster on the wall next to the bed with color drawings of various dinosaurs and their full names.

“Wha … where … what …” Buffy stammered as she moved slowly into the room and took it in.  She turned back to Spike with her eyes wide with confusion. “Where … where are the babies?”

“I told ya, I took ‘em to practice, pet …” Spike explained again. “Dance, gymnastics, and football t’day,” Spike clarified when Buffy just stared at him. “Buffy, what’s wrong, luv?” he asked, moving into the room and up to her with a look of concern.

“I … I don’t know … I just … ummm, maybe I got hit harder than I thought,” Buffy hedged as she looked down at her hands. The rings were hers – William’s mother’s engagement ring and the promise ring, only there was another one that she didn’t recognize on her pinky … two hearts intertwined in white and yellow gold. Buffy reached up and felt around her neck … it was the ruby and diamond heart pendant that Spike had given her for Christmas.  She turned to the mirror in the room and faced a stranger from what seemed a long ago dream;  her hair was long and blonde, the scars on her face that she’d finally gotten accustomed to were gone, the hardness in her eyes was replaced with nothing but confusion. She pulled the collar of her shirt down, the scar from the amulet was there, Spike’s bite marks were on her neck - she didn’t need to look for the C-section scar, she knew it was there by just looking at the small bulge around her middle.  Buffy looked back at Spike, the scar on his brow was there … she lifted his left hand, his matching starburst scar from the amulet was there …

“Buffy, please tell me what’s the matter, luv,” Spike pleaded again as he wrapped his hand that she had picked up around hers.

“I thought … I dreamt … I …” Buffy stammered as she shook her head in disbelief and confusion. What had happened? Was it a dream or real? Is this a dream or is it real? “I don’t know… Spike, I – have I been here the whole time? How long was I unconscious?”

“You were out a minute or two … don’t you remember that at all? We were patrolling … not even sure what kinda demon it was. Big, blue, buggering son-of-a-bitch jumped out and hit ya’ ‘fore I could stop ‘im. I think we need to get ya’ to the hospital … your head ain’t as hard as I thought…” Spike tried to joke, but his concern was growing.  She seemed fine earlier, just a bad headache when they’d gotten home last night. He left her sleeping to go run the kids to their various Saturday practices and now she seemed confused and disoriented. 

“C’mon … let’s see what Dr. Hack n’ Chop can find…” Spike suggested as he guided her out of the twins' room and down the hall towards the stairs.

Buffy let him guide her as her mind whirled with questions that she had no answers for.  As they walked down the upstairs hallway, her eyes wandered over a plethora of framed photographs that lined the walls … some she recognized, her and Spike at the Bronze, Spike and the babies in their Santa hats at Christmas, Billy as an infant swimming in the Man-U jersey Spike had gotten him, Annie with her prized Elmo doll, Annie with Miss Kitty, Willow and Tara at the beach … but there were more that she didn’t recognize … Annie in a pink ballet outfit, smiling for the camera, a blonde girl of about three posing with a soccer ball … her tongue stuck out of her mouth and curled over her teeth, reminding Buffy of Spike, a boy of about five with a curly blond mop of hair making a funny face as he rode a big white rabbit on a merry-go-round … and more, there were so many more and Buffy didn’t recognize or remember any of them.

Buffy stopped and pulled away from Spike when they got to Annie’s room and she stepped inside. Now that she took a moment to really look, it had changed, as well. Posters from different world-renowned ballet companies lined one wall; the other wall was covered with pictures and posters of various landmarks around the world: the Taj Mahal, the Great Wall of China, the Colosseum in Rome, the Cathedral of St. Basil in Moscow, Stonehenge, Manchu Picchu, the pyramids in Egypt … Buffy’s eyes settled on one of the Eiffel tower, it was a progression of how it was constructed, and Buffy’s mind went back to 1890 and how excited Anne was about the prospect of their father taking them to see it in person…before it got torn down.

Buffy suddenly had a hard time breathing … she couldn’t figure out what was real anymore. Was Hallie real? Was Cecily married to William raising what were rightfully her children in the nineteenth century real? Were Riley and Dawn real? Was Spike real? Was this real?  Buffy turned to Spike, who had stopped in the doorway, as tears welled in her eyes and she struggled to breathe. She was losing her mind … Riley and Dawn and Giles were right, she’d lost her mind … that must be what it was … she’d almost certainly lost her mind.

“What … what year is it?” Buffy asked Spike as he watched her and tried to figure out what was wrong.

“Buffy…” Spike pleaded, ‘Let’s just go to the doc…”

“NO! NO DOCTORS!” Buffy exclaimed, remembering the nuthouse Riley and Giles had put her in and the drawers of pills they’d stuffed her with. “Just tell me what year it is!”

“Buffy …” Spike started, before sighing heavily. “2010 … it’s Saturday, January 16^th, 2010, luv.  Buffy, please tell me what’s wrong,” Spike begged her, moving into Annie’s room and up to his wife. He put his hands on her upper arms and tilted his head as he searched her eyes for answers.

Buffy closed her eyes, unable to withstand his scrutiny, and leaned against his chest heavily. Spike wrapped his arms around her and dropped a kiss on top of her head as he tried to comfort her, even though he couldn’t figure out why she was crying.

“Spike … I …” she started, wanting desperately to tell him the story – how Hallie had stolen their lives … but that must’ve been a dream, because everything was here … she’d just lost five years. How could she tell him she’d lost five years of their life without him thinking her completely insane?

“Maybe … yeah, let’s go to the hospital, maybe … maybe I have a concussion or something,” she finally acquiesced, hoping that an MRI or X-ray could explain what was going on … and not just prove that she was, in fact, fit for Bedlam.  She just needed to hold it together for a while, act normal, so they didn’t lock her up in the loony-bin and toss away the key.

**~**

“Well, I’ve got good news and bad news…” the comedic doctor began as he walked back into the small curtained room where Buffy and Spike were waiting for the results of the x-ray.

Buffy let out a breath she hadn't been aware she was holding … Thank God, there was a problem and that’s what had caused the hallucinations and why she couldn’t remember the last five years … when it healed, everything would be fine.

“What’s the good news?” Buffy asked, already knowing that the bad news was that she had brain damage…

“The good news is you have a little bump on your head, but otherwise you’re fine … there’s no concussion, no swelling around the brain, just a small hematoma … you have a bruise, nothing more,” the doctor explained and Buffy looked at him in utter disbelief.  Could they actually see that she was crazy from an X-ray? Was that the bad news?

“What’s the bad news, then, doc?” Spike asked when Buffy didn’t speak.

“You have to go home…can’t stay here,” the doctor told them with a chuckle.  “Just check in with the admitting nurse on your way out ... “ he instructed before turning and leaving them alone.

“Well, that’s good news, then, innit?” Spike asked as he picked up his duster from where he’d laid it over the back of a chair.

“What?” Buffy asked, her mind whirling again trying to figure out what was wrong with her. “Oh, yeah … great … great news. I was looking forward to the mushy peas, cardboard chicken, and rubbery Jell-O at dinner…”

**~**

“When can we go get the … kids?” Buffy asked, finding it hard to say ‘kids’ instead of ‘babies’, as Spike drove them home from the hospital, a prescription for a painkiller in hand which Buffy had no intention of filling.

“Normal time…” Spike answered and watched her out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh…right,” Buffy replied as she turned her head towards the window and rolled her eyes. “Could we maybe pick them up early … like now?”  If this was a dream, she’d like to at least have a little time with her whole family before it ended … if it wasn’t a dream, she’d like to spend as much time with them as possible before she lost what little was left of her mind.

“Buffy … what in the buggering hell is wrong with you? Doc says you’re fine, but you aren’t acting fine, are ya?” Spike questioned, annoyed that she wouldn’t tell him what was wrong. “You know as well as I do that the bits would all be hell to live with if we pulled ‘em out of their lessons early…”

Buffy looked down at her hands and shook her head. “I just … I seem to be forgetting little things … I’m sure it’s nothing. I’m fine – I’ll be fine, really. It’s probably just this bump on my head.”

Spike looked at her a moment and sighed. “Are you sure, pet?” he asked, his voice full of worry as he looked back out the windshield. “We can drive up to L.A., get a second opinion, if you think…”

“No …no … I’m sure it’s nothing,” Buffy assured him as she slid over and cuddled against his side. Spike took one hand off the wheel and tucked her under his arm, pulling her close.  He wasn’t entirely convinced that she was ‘fine’, but he didn’t know what else to do. He’d have to trust that she’d know if something was really wrong and that she’d tell him.  Since the ‘Angel thing’, as it had come to be called, Buffy had made a concerted effort to include him in any and all life altering decisions (and most non-life-altering ones, too) and confide in him fully. They shared their fears, great and small, and their joys with each other and, although Spike knew that he’d never be her equal, she’d always be the Slayer, he felt like she was living her promise to be a better wife, a better friend, and a better mother.

Suddenly Frank Sinatra started crooning “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” and Spike moaned as he fished his cell phone out of his pocket.

“It’s my day off.  This better be bloody good,” Spike announced into the phone without preamble.

Since when did Spike have a job? Buffy wondered as she tried to hear who was calling and what they were saying, but Spike had the volume on the phone turned down too low for her to hear it. Damn vampire hearing!

Spike listened for a few moments then sighed heavily. “Yeah. Yeah … fine, I’ll be right there,” he told the caller before hitting the end button and tossing the phone on the dashboard.

“I gotta go down to Willy’s for a bit … rumor is there’s gonna be some kinda trouble there t’day,” Spike explained. 

“But it’s your day off …” Buffy complained, using the part of the conversation that she had heard. “Can’t someone else handle it?”

“Willy’s a bloody wanker, but he wouldn’t’ve had Clem call me in and pay me overtime if he didn’t think the threat was real. He’s a cheap SOB, to be sure,” Spike moaned.

“Should I … maybe I should come with you. You might need help,” Buffy offered.

“Thanks, luv … but Faith’s there, she’ll cover m’ back,” Spike explained.

“Oh … Faith,” Buffy repeated, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. Since when would Spike rather have Faith covering his back?

“But … I could come anyway … you can never have too many people covering your back…” Buffy pointed out.

“I appreciate it, luv … but maybe you should get a bit a’ kip – that was a nasty blow, rattled your brain a bit, yeah?” Spike rebuffed her gently, still concerned that she wasn’t 100%, hopeful that she’d be back to normal with a little more rest. 

“Someone’s got to pick up the bits later …will you be alright to do that?” he asked her as he swung the Desoto up to the curb in front of the mansion and came to a stop. “If not, I’ll call …”

“No … no, I can do it!" she interrupted him.  "That would be at the normal time ….” Buffy prodded.

“Right … four o’clock,” Spike supplied, then added, “At the Northwest Community Center… football and dance and tumblin', yeah?”

“Yeah, no problem. I got it,” Buffy assured him as she reluctantly slid over and got out of the car. “Please … be careful, ok?” she admonished him as she leaned in through the open window.

“No worries, luv.  I’ll be home for dinner,” Spike replied as he put the car back in gear and pulled away.

Buffy’s stomach started doing flip flops as she watched him drive away.  If this was a dream, so far it sucked.  A dream with Freddy Krueger would’ve been better … at least she’d know what was going on and what to do – kill the bad guy. Simple. Easy. Clear. Just as she’d lived the last five years – catch and disempower the vengeance demons. She suddenly longed for a clear mission – she’d take anything that was clear at this point.

When Spike rounded the corner and was out of view, Buffy turned and looked at the mansion. It looked pretty much the same as she remembered it … she thought it could use a coat of paint and the windows needed washing … but otherwise, it looked about the same. Buffy went down the garden steps and into the great room. All the research books were still here, she noted that ‘Bert and Ernie’ the hermit crabs were gone. How long did hermit crabs live, anyway?  Miss Kitty’s food and water were still in the kitchen, so that meant she was around here somewhere.

Buffy wandered around the empty house, opening doors, looking in rooms, picking up mementos and pictures – some she recognized, some she didn’t.  Apparently, it was just them living here now … none of the guest rooms appeared to be occupied. She wondered where Willow and Tara were … then it dawned on her, they were probably living in Washington state, Willow was probably working at Microsoft.  Lorne was gone, as well … she wondered if he was still running The Bronze.  Lorne’s ominous reading of Spike after the Christmas show suddenly came back to Buffy. “Nothing, I got nothing. Like you weren’t even there…” he’d told Spike.

“Oh God … he was right – Spike was totally gone,” Buffy muttered to herself, still not sure if Spike was actually back or what parts of her life were real and what parts were delusions.  Had her life before with Spike actually been some figment of her imagination like Riley and Giles said and she’d fallen back into that delusion somehow? No, that had to be real … and Hallie had wished it away from her … right? But how did she get it back? What was this? Was this a dream?

Buffy pounded her hand against her forehead to try and stop the questions from forming like whirlwinds in her brain … questions she had no answers to.  “Stop! Stop! Stop!” she screamed aloud.

“Ok, Slayer … think,” Buffy spoke aloud to herself. “Ok … mission, what’s the mission? Find answers … try to figure out what’s going on. Try to figure out if this is a dream or …” Buffy’s voice trailed off, not wanting to voice her fears that she’d totally lost her mind and was actually sitting in a sanatorium somewhere in a catatonic stupor imagining all this.  Buffy pinched her arm, just as she’d done when she woke up in bed with Riley … and again, the only thing that happened was a red welt forming on her skin.

Buffy took a deep breath to calm down then started looking around for a pad of paper to make a list … she always thought better if she could write it down.  Buffy headed into the room that was her office and sat down at the desk, but before she could even start a list, an open bank statement caught her eye.  Buffy picked it up and studied it … where was all the money? Had they spent that much in the last five years?  They weren’t broke, but there was nowhere near what had been there before …

“No wonder Spike’s got a job…” she muttered to herself.

Buffy began rummaging through old bank statements, going back, and back and back … the money had never been there.  Finally, she found the accounting that Angel had given Spike just before she and Spike had gotten married.  The accounting showed zero contributed to the clan from William … all Angel showed on the report was what Dru had brought in.  Buffy shook her head … that was wrong. Spike … or William, had money, there was that house and jewelry and furnishings – Buffy had seen that with her own two eyes … and who knew how much money there was in the bank.

“What the hell?” Buffy questioned as she continued looking through statements and income tax filings … Spike had been working at Willy’s as ‘security’ for four years.  Buffy had even had some part-time jobs in the last four years … she worked at the Magic Box for a while, as an ice skating instructor for one season, and she’d had a ‘security’ job herself,  at the Bronze.

Buffy scratched her head as she read over the various statements, where had William’s money gone?  Buffy went back downstairs and searched the research library for the Watcher’s diary that spoke about Clan of Aurelius.  It didn’t take her too long to find the familiar tome and she sat down at the research table and began reading. It spoke of Angel and Darla and Dru … then finally William the Bloody.

William the Bloody is the childe of Drusilla, turned in 1890.  It has been reported by more than one reliable source that he killed his entire family, including his wife, two young daughters and a newborn son.

 Barely escaping London after an angry mob of townspeople turned on him….

The diary went on to document the exploits of William the Bloody but Buffy couldn’t read any further, she just kept reading the same paragraph again and again. Turned in 1890 … killed his entire family … two young daughters and a newborn son … 

“No …no, no, no, no, no…” Buffy cried as she read it over and over again.  “Oh God … no, please, Spike, no,” Buffy pleaded to the empty house as tears fell from her eyes.  William had been turned in 1890, not 1880 … Buffy had gone back to 1890 … history had changed.

Dawn’s warning words rang in Buffy’s ears, ‘there’s really no way to know all the unintended consequences of changing something in the past.’

“What have I done? Oh God, I killed them … I killed the babies …” Buffy sobbed as she dropped her head down on the book and tried to come to grips with what had happened.  Had it all been real? The life they had before, the years hunting the vengeance demons, the trip back in time … and now this? All real?

Buffy suddenly jumped up from the table and ran upstairs to their bedroom and began pulling out drawers. Hairbrushes and combs, hair nets and barrettes and covered elastic bands fell out of the drawers, but not one scrunchie. Buffy went to Annie’s room and searched all the drawers, tossing the contents onto the floor, but still, no scrunchies.

Buffy slid down against one wall in her daughter’s room, surrounded by enough hair paraphernalia to stock a Wal-Mart, but not one scrunchie.  Buffy shook her head in disbelief … it was real, it was all real – it was all the same world. She had gone back in time and stepped on a butterfly … she’d changed history with her actions, unintended consequences. She’d gotten Spike back, gotten her family back, but at what cost? Her mother’s words echoed in her mind … ‘save all the babies’. She thought of William’s girls … Anne and Bess, sweet, smart, beautiful girls … and his unborn son … children that were not only made from William, but from herself, as well. How Hallie did it, Buffy still didn’t know, but she knew that those children were her own flesh and blood … and Spike had …

“Spike … tell me that’s wrong, that must be wrong. You’d never kill our babies, please, Spike, it has to be wrong,” Buffy pleaded again to the empty house as she dropped her face into her hands and sobbed, trying to wish it away, to make it not be true.

 **~**