Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)
Disclaimer: The characters and fictional placings of either of these shows do not belong to me. They belong to Cameron/ Eglee (Dark Angel), Joss Whedon (BtVS) and Whedon/ Greenwalt (AtS). Only the story belongs to me.
Rating: 13 (for now)
Genre: Crossover of DA/ BtVS
Type: WiP
Timeline/ Spoilers: Post Season 5 for Buffy. Up to LAtR for DA. Story set in DA time.
Summary: BtVS/ DA crossover. Life brings about so many changes. Especially when one has just risen from the dead.
A/N- Not all of the events that took place in Dark Angel will be present in this fiction. And there may be more time passing between events than it appeared on the show. So I guess that makes this AU.
Chapter Ten
May 23, 2021
Los Angeles
"What?" Alec demanded, disbelieving. He shouldn’t have been. But Dawn hadn’t been that old. What could have happened that had taken Dawn? Of course there were the obvious things. Accidents, illness, there were a multitude of answers, but for the family that had seen so much tragedy, this was just another blow.
"Sorry," Logan mumbled. But then his head snapped up. Why was he apologizing? All he’d done was taken the other man by surprise. It wasn’t as if Alec didn’t get his jollies by doing the same to him all the time. Mild regret quickly turned to defensiveness. But even so, he kept his head clear enough to move away from the bathroom in the hopes that his cousin wouldn’t overhear. He motioned Alec after him and the younger man didn’t bother to hesitate.
"How did Dawn die?" Alec demanded. "And how the hell are you going to tell her sister?"
"I’m hoping I won’t have to," Logan whispered back. He glanced once more at the bathroom. "At least not yet. I don’t think she’s ready to deal with this yet."
"I don’t think any time is ready when someone dies," Alec answered stoutly, though he lowered his voice as well. He waited expectantly as Logan pulled off his glasses and rubbed at them convulsively with the hem of his shirt. It was a mark of how discomfited he was by the events surrounding them. Normally he would have found a handkerchief.
"Dawn and Hank died during the Pulse," Logan announced softly. Alec straightened up, pulling his head back as he took this in. "They were travelling by train for some business conference. Dawn had graduated college and Hank was trying to get her interested in an Internship. So he took her with him. When the Pulse happened, of course the computer running the train shut down and there was a massive pile-up." He sighed heavily as he recalled the moment he had received that letter, weeks after from Hank’s lawyer. The man had known Hank very well and while his family had been lucky enough to come through the Pulse with their health intact, the loss of the Summers had weighed heavily on him. So he’d gone through all the paper files he’d had on the Summers family and had at last found Logan’s name among them.
"Killed everyone, huh?" Alec assumed with a slightly odd tinge of emotion.
"A few people walked away," Logan contradicted. "Some were hospitalized, but with the break-down, not many made it."
"And Hank and Dawn?" Alec wondered.
"Were ones that didn’t ever see the light of day again," Logan finished sadly. He thought on it a few moments, remembering the trek he’d made to New York to say goodbye to that side of his family, even though his cousin’s body had never been found. Officials had attributed her name to the list of those who died in a resultant fire. "There was a mass memorial site, pictures and letters, flowers," he murmured. "You saw them all over the country, until people were too busy just trying to survive and they slowly faded back into oblivion."
Alec sighed and turned back to a meaningless task of moving his possessions about, in an effort to remain busy. He was really starting to empathize with this woman, which for a soldier like him, was a dangerous thing to do. Resolutely, he reminded himself that he’d just finished lecturing Max and Logan about this not too awful long ago. They couldn’t afford to get mixed up, entangled in each other’s lives. Especially when what they were, he and Max were so completely different from the ordinaries. The biggest difference, that was the fine line between survival and death was that the transgenics were hunted, the ordinaries not. And if the transgenics were to go on keeping the ordinaries intimate in their lives, then those same ordinaries would probably end up being the first in line when the crossfire came.
Thankfully, Max chose that time to pop her head out of the bathroom. She took in the tension between the two men and dismissed it just as quickly. Sometimes she didn’t want to give herself the headache of figuring out what had pushed either man’s buttons. Especially when it happened so rarely with Alec that any reason she’d guess was probably light years off base.
"Hey, could someone bring me my bag?" she demanded. "Buffy needs some clothes." Alec obligingly dropped his bag and scooped up Max’s instead. He brought it to her instead of tossing it like he normally might have. And surprising her still, he never once tried to sneak a peek into the other room. She took the bag and stared up at his face, a moment only, assessing this rapid and confusing stoically faced man. But she shrugged internally. He’d either tell her what was bothering him, or more likely not. She just nodded her thanks and pulled the bag inside.
Shutting the door, she turned and moved over to Buffy. The blonde was wrapped in the largest towel available in the cramped bathroom and sitting on the closed toilet seat lid. She wasn’t looking at anything in particular. Max was just glad to have gotten her out of that ratty bug infested black dress. The unrelenting color really did little for her fair features that were so pale. Max had wondered briefly if the paleness was a byproduct of Buffy’s having been dead, but dismissed the morbid thought. Probably because she didn’t want to admit that her fashion sense, what little she had, had been offended.
But when she dug into her own bag, searching for something that might suit the other woman, she did a double take. When the hell had her life become so drab that all she wore were black and midnight blue. She worried at her lower lip a moment and shrugged the disconcerting thought off. It didn’t matter what Buffy wore, as long as it was serviceable in keeping her covered and warm. So to that end, she removed a T-shirt and sweats that she’d brought along in case the urge to sleep struck her. Continuing on from Alec’s clues, she held them before Buffy.
"Put these on," she instructed. Buffy easily took the clothes from her and then stared at them in confusion. Max realized once again her mistake. To her those words were simple and direct, but there were many moment by moment steps to accomplish this. Max grimly reordered things in her mind so that they could do so quickly and with minimal fuss. "Shirt first," she said, indicating the dark blue shirt on top. The pants fluttered down, slipping half off her lap. But that didn’t matter. "Lift up your right arm," Max continued, taking the shirt from her. She bunched up the material and eased the correct armhole over her wavering hand. "Left arm." That was done but Max remembered to take a moment and warn her. "It’s going over your head now, then the shirt will be done."
She was glad she had done so, warning the other woman. There was a second when the darkness, though mild as the fabric only muted the light, that Buffy’s body stiffened. But when in the panic of reorienting herself, she caught sight of Max’s face, she relaxed marginally. Max didn’t let this bother her and simply settled the material over the bulky towel. They proceeded in the same manner with the pants and Max was glad that Buffy was able to pull them up herself. Dressing a full-grown woman was just too weird for her taste. But she deigned to put the socks on the other woman’s feet and once she had Buffy standing, pulled the towel away. She grabbed another and told Buffy to put it around her hair so she wouldn’t get the clothes wet. Buffy complied and Max felt they were ready to face the world. Or at least the outer motel rooms.
She led Buffy into the outer room, noticing that the men immediately fell silent. They watched Buffy as she timidly made her way out of the bathroom, only to see her hover in the doorway. Max glanced back at her and then at the men. She almost let out an aggrieved growl. Staring at the woman wasn’t going to get her to relax and remain calm. Alec caught the hint on her face first and turned back to rifling through his wallet. He settled whatever he was doing and thrust it back into his pocket. He retrieved the clothes he’d laid out for himself and moved towards them. When he was a few feet away from the bathroom and Buffy he stopped and with an easy grin motioned her out of the way.
"It’s my turn," he informed her. "Go sit down on the bed." Buffy stiffened abruptly and then followed his directive. As he glanced back at the others, he noticed that Logan was still staring rapturously at his cousin. He just hoped that Max would be able to rein in his enthusiasm, because he really wanted into the shower, not to have to negotiate a comfort zone for the blonde woman. But there was nothing he was going to do about it at the moment. He simply continued into the facilities and shut the door behind him.
There was a stiff silence for a moment and then Logan broke out of the daze he was in to carefully approach the blonde woman. "Buffy," he murmured gently. She glanced up at him, her face still blank and hesitant. "I’m your cousin. Logan Cale," he reintroduced himself to her and a puzzled look crossed her features. He hurried on. "I know I look different. But Buffy, you’ve been… gone… for a long time. So I’ve grown up quite a bit since we last saw each other. But I want you to know that I’ll do everything I can to help you get used to things again. It shouldn’t take too long for you to get acclimated again. And I’ll be-!"
"How long," Buffy demanded in her still raspy voice. Logan looked startled that she’d finally uttered something coherent. He had to replay what he’d been saying before he caught her question.
"How long will it take to get acclimated?" he repeated questioningly, then tilted his head to think on it. "Well, I can’t really say," he mused. "There’s a lot to cover."
Max chuckled dryly and took a seat near Buffy on the bed. "I think she meant how long was she gone, Logan." She turned to the other woman and received a nod in confirmation. But Logan couldn’t seem to answer that, as if there was an entire can of worms he just didn’t want to open at that moment. Max decided to take a little action. "I’m Max by the way," she introduced herself. She didn’t bother sticking out her hand as was customary. "Max Gueverra." When Buffy didn’t respond, she went on. She remembered how much trouble Logan had in moments like this. He never could seem to be able to tell good people bad or awkward news. "Do you remember that you…?"
"Died," Buffy filled in for her and then nodded. Max nodded briefly as well. At least there was that. They didn’t need to explain that she’d been dead for two decades. Just that a significant amount of time had passed.
"Well it’s now 2021," Max went on gently. Buffy didn’t react and Max didn’t press it. There was plenty of time to convince her of that later, if needed. "You’ve been dead for twenty years. But last night, something happened that brought you back to life."
"Oh," the blonde murmured. Then seeming to dismiss this line of conversation, she turned back to Logan. "Where’s Dawn?" Max realized then that this was what had been eating at Logan earlier. The slight gulp and sudden sheen of perspiration at his hairline told her everything she needed to know. It wasn’t good news. Logan knelt down before her feet and reached for his cousin’s hand. But Buffy pulled back and he tried to make the motion a natural balancing by swiftly resting his palm against the bed.
"Buffy, about Dawn," he sighed heavily. As much as he might want to put it off, he knew that his stubborn cousin probably wouldn’t give up until she found out. "See, a lot of things have happened since you… went away. There was a terrible accident. In 2009. And Dawn… and your dad, died as a result of it."
Buffy’s face crumpled up for a moment and her eyes fluttered shut. But when she opened them again both Max and Logan were amazed to see a hint of steely determination. "No!" she grunted. Max and Logan exchanged looks, wondering exactly what that meant. They didn’t have to ask, as this Buffy became suddenly loquacious, for her that was. "Dawnie’s alive. I can feel it."
Logan didn’t know whether to be sorrowful or excited. His cousin was talking to him, actually there in the room and it wasn’t some hallucination. Unfortunately, she wasn’t quite ready to take a full grip on reality. He wondered how he could get her to understand that what he was telling her was the truth. The only thing that could help, he supposed, was the death certificate’s he had on file back home. But even then, weren’t delusional people prone to irrationality? Logan mentally sighed and shook his head. He had no idea exactly what kind of problems Buffy suffered, if any. Maybe a consultation with one of Dr. Carr’s colleagues was in order. But he wouldn’t be able to do that until they were back in Seattle. For now, he just wanted her to stay calm. Soon enough they’d be home.
"Why don’t you lay down and take a nap," he offered, gesturing at the bed she was on. "It’s been a long night. I think I might take one myself," he ended with a smile. But she didn’t return it. In fact, she looked mightily uncomfortable with the thought.
"No sleep," she whispered. Logan’s face grew thoughtful. Max wanted to snort. Like with most things, Logan was overanalyzing. His cousin was a grown woman. And she’d been through a rough deal. She wanted to shake him and tell him to back off and take his cues from his cousin and not just what he thought was best for her. But she didn’t for more than just the reason that she couldn’t touch him.
"You don’t have to sleep," Max told Buffy quietly. There was probably a lot of stuff weighing on the girl’s mind. Nightmare producing material and they all knew that. Of course she wouldn’t want to sleep. "Maybe we could watch TV?" Buffy’s eyes darted around the room until they finally centered on the antique machine. She nodded hesitantly and Max got up to retrieve the remote control. She came back to the bed, but instead of sitting at the edge as she had been; she went to the far end and pulled back the sheets. She removed the pillows, setting them over the comforter and plumping them up. "Come up here," she instructed as she settled in on one side.
Buffy eyed her warily; obviously mindful that it could be a ruse to get her to sleep, but when Max casually ignored her to turn on the television and start flipping through channels, she scooted up the bed. She settled back against the headboard, curling her legs up under herself and wrapping her arms around her middle. Max glanced at her once, seeing her eyes flick disinterestedly over the images flashing on the screen.
"Tell me if you see something you like," she smiled. She slowed her channel switching so that Buffy could keep up. Hopefully they’d find some old rerun that might be familiar to her, but twenty-year-old shows weren’t very popular right now. Logan watched all of this and once Buffy seemed to relax, he stood and moved to the other bed. He chose the side closest to Buffy, toed off his shoes and stretched out on his back. It felt good to him to be able to finally get off his feet.
*****
When Alec climbed out of the shower, he listened for a moment. But all he could hear was the low hum of the television. He smiled at that. He didn’t imagine that Max and Logan were the types to watch a lot of television. They were probably trying to entertain Buffy. He toweled himself off rapidly and slipped into the clothes he’d brought in with him. Just a T-shirt and sweats, similar to what Max had brought to sleep in. At least it was comfortable. He gathered up his dirty clothes and opened the door to a rushing of cooler air. As he hurried in front of the trio, he smiled a brief apology for disturbing their viewing pleasure and settled his clothes on top of his bag. And then he took in the scene.
Logan was stretched out on the bed closest to the door, sound asleep, his glasses skewed across his face. Buffy was just across from him, a nightstand separating them and the beds. She was curled up in herself, her eyes staring blankly at the dancing cartoons on the television. Max was leaning back against the headboard, supported by a pillow. She was glancing at Logan and then back to him.
"Could you take his glasses off, before he breaks them?" she asked quietly, gesturing to Logan. Alec nodded and padded over on bare feet. He folded them up and placed them within easy reach on the nightstand.
"I’m going to get some sleep too," he informed both of them, his words were meant more for Max. His gaze flickered once to Buffy, who still hadn’t bothered to look up and Max nodded, understanding that Alec wanted her to keep an eye on the other woman.
"That’s fine," Max muttered and turned her face back to the television. "I’ll wake you guys up in a few hours and we can figure out what to do for lunch then."
"Sounds good," Alec muttered as he yawned. He moved around to the other side of the bed Logan had sacked out on. Alec wasn’t really so discerning about where he slept, but sharing a bed with Logan made him pause. There was plenty of room, but Logan didn’t seem to have removed his exoskeleton. Was the man a kicker? Well, Alec was tired enough that he’d put up with the possibility. He leaned down to pull the pillow out from under the comforter and once he’d arranged it the way he wanted, stretched out on top of the bed and was asleep in moments.
*****
May 23rd, 2021
Los Angeles, sometime in the afternoon
Alec woke swiftly, startled out of his sleep. By what he couldn’t say. It took him seconds only to orient himself. His gaze roamed over the artificially darkened motel room. He was glad Max had pulled the shades. He never liked waking via sunbeams in his eyes. But as his eyes lingered on that particular form, he realized what was so out of place. Instead of staring in boredom at the television screen, or reading one of her books, Max was asleep. And Buffy was gone.
Alec swore softly and rolled off the bed and to his feet. As he did so he realized what it had been that had woken him up. The soft but decisive shutting of a door. His glance strayed to the bathroom. The door was shut, but no light escaped from the gap at the bottom. Of course, her eyes could still be sensitive to the light and she might not have turned it on. He approached on silent feet and gently knocked. "Buffy?"
There was no answer and when he moved his hand to the doorknob, a simple touch made it swing inward. But the room was empty. His head spun as he tried to figure out where the hell she’d go. His body finally caught up and he turned and hurried back to where Max was reclined and snoozing. He was quiet, not wanting to wake Logan. The other man would just panic and freak out that they’d lost his cousin. Alec knelt beside the bed and with one touch to her knee, the transgenic woman was awake. "Buffy’s gone," he announced in a whisper.
Max’s eyes darted around the room, taking in the empty bathroom. Her eyes continued in the frantic search of inanimate objects, her mind cataloguing the things they’d brought in with them. She breathed a sigh of relief once they landed on the car keys that Logan had set on his nightstand. She stood up, pointing them out as Alec moved back. "She’s on foot," she extrapolated. "She can’t have gone far, depending on how much of a head start she had."
"Her leaving woke me up," Alec informed her as he moved over to grab up his boots. He pulled them on, as Max quickly did the same with her own. They were ready to head out in moments. Max hesitated as she passed Logan, but Alec shook his head. They exited the room and then he explained.
"We shouldn’t wake him unless there’s really a problem," he decided. Max nodded. They took in the parking lot, but aside from the few vehicles, it was empty. "Split up?" Alec asked. Max nodded again. They headed for the street and naturally broke apart, Max heading for the left and Alec to the right. It was going through both of their minds that Buffy used to live in Los Angeles. But it had changed so drastically in the last twenty years. The sense of security and familiarity that Buffy might have expected here was extremely detrimental for her well being. They still hadn’t explained to the young woman about sector identification passes and police checkpoints. Travelling with Logan wasn’t a problem because he always had a travelling permit on hand and the sector cops never bothered to check the rest of the vehicle’s occupants, unless there was a manhunt on.
All this ran through their minds, wondering what kind of trouble Buffy could even now be getting into. But before Alec had taken two steps down the street, he’d spotted her. "Max!" he called back loudly over his shoulder. He knew she’d hear. As he began to jog towards the blonde, he smiled. She was taking a page out of his game plan from earlier, rifling through a phone book. As he came up by her side, she turned stunned eyes up at him. Alec frowned as he took in her trembling fingers, holding the pages open at the ‘A’s’.
"Buffy?" he asked gently of her, gesturing at the pages, indicating that he was lost at what she was asking of him.
"He’s not here," she whispered, her eyes dropping back to the book.
"Who isn’t?" Max asked as she jogged up. She’d taken in the situation accurately as she’d approached.
"Angel," she answered quietly. "H-he can’t be gone? Can he?" Alec and Max exchanged mystified glances. Who knew what was possible over twenty years?
"Why don't we go back to the motel and talk about it?" Max suggested. The name was a total mystery to them, as Logan had never mentioned it. Alec was frowning down at the book Buffy was holding. She had opened it to the section that Angel would be listed in. But from the way she used it, it sounded more like a first name. He was going to point that out that his last name would be more useful, but Buffy was tugging at the book as if she were going to take it with her. He hurriedly removed it from her hands.
"There’s probably one in the room," he told her gently. She pursed her lips as if she were going to argue, then nodded and let loose the book. Alec set it back on the little shelf designed under the phone for that purpose. As they began to walk back, he noticed that Buffy hadn’t even taken time to put some shoes on. Not like there were extra just lying around for her to use. Max slid the key she’d grabbed from the nightstand, into the lock and they quietly entered the room.
Buffy went straight to the nightstand and rifled through the drawer. With a small sense of triumph, she pulled a phone book out and perched on the edge of the bed, completely ignoring her still slumbering cousin. She flipped through the pages and then glanced up at them again, a frown marring her face.
"Not in that one either, huh?" Alec muttered. She shook her head. "What’s his last name?"
"He doesn’t have one," Buffy mumbled, then glanced up, looking off in the distance. "I think."
"Well that explains the trouble," Max grinned. "They still list people by their last names." But Buffy was ignoring her to flip through the book until she came to the yellow pages. She started searching again in the ‘I’ section, then the ‘P’s. Finally she found what she was looking for, but then let out an aggrieved grunt and slammed the book shut.
"He’s not in there," she sighed, her eyes returning to a spot on the wall.
"What were you looking in the yellow pages for?" Alec asked gently as he took a seat at the end of the bed. Buffy turned to face him, not caring as the book slid to the floor with a soft thump.
"His business," she murmured. "Angel Investigations. But it’s not there." There was silence for a few minutes as the transgenics tried to think beyond the obvious why that would be.
"Maybe they just don’t advertise anymore," Max shrugged.
"Or maybe they moved to a different city," Alec shrugged. "Or they could have changed their name to something else." Buffy shook her head at that one.
"They moved to a hotel," she murmured. "Back before I…"
Alec spoke only so that there wouldn’t be an awkward silence. "Well maybe we could check that out. If they’re not there now, maybe if anybody else is, they might know about the previous occupants." He smiled at the blonde woman as her eyes widened. "Do you want to do that?" he asked. He was glad to see her interest sparked in something. Of course, even as something in his mind urged him to remind her that it was a long shot, ever the party pooper, Max beat him to it.
"Don’t get your hopes up though," she warned. "We might not find anything. But maybe Logan can figure out something more later on." At Buffy’s puzzled look Max hid a smile. "He, ah… kind of does stuff like that for a living." Alec fought his own grin. Eyes Only wasn’t Logan’s livelihood, it was his whole life.
"Can we go now?" Buffy demanded finally. The transgenics glanced over as one at the still sleeping male. They glanced at one another and finally Max smiled weakly.
"We probably should wake him up and get something to eat first, okay?"
Chapter Eleven
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