A Love As Strong As Death

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Everyone knows that not all these characters are mine, and I'm not making money off the ones that are. So there.

Archive: Anywhere that already has my stuff. Anywhere else, ask and it shall be given to you.

Summary: Set after the end of Cast Me Not Away and its follow up stories. This sequel is longer and darker than the intervening short stories. It deals with family, children, immortality, life and death, and making amends. We will also be jumping around in time a bit, so look sharp.

A/N: I debated for a long time before writing this one, although the idea was there before I even finished CMNA. Some of you will believe that I have ruined the previous stories, which is fine. All I ask is that if you're unhappy with where this goes that you'll go back, re-read Cast Me Not Away through Silver Bells, and then you can flame me if you'd like. I'll calmly pull out the fire-extinguisher and ignore you, but that's alright. The themes have been there; I just hadn't quite managed to elaborate on them yet. (Oh, and before anyone screams Nika, Wesley, Spike and Buffy will survive. More than that I won't promise.)

Chapter 18: May 2016

Hannah glanced up as the student aid came into the room. The teacher glanced at the slip of paper the aid handed to him and then looked straight at her. "Hannah, they want to see you in the principal's office."

The rest of the class broke out in snickers, and she rolled her eyes. Hannah knew very well that she hadn't done anything worthy of getting called to the Principal's office, which probably meant that either Wesley or Nika was picking her up early for some reason. They had done so a couple of times before when something big had come up. That was why she wasn't expecting what she did find.

Hannah froze just inside the door of the office. Her mother stood there, hair greasy and clothing unkempt. There had been a time when her mother had simply been her mother. When she had been aware that something was wrong, but hadn't thought much of it.

After not seeing her mother for over two years, however, Hannah saw her with almost a stranger's eye. The cheap, stained clothing, the lank hair, the canvas shoes that had never been in fashion. She had never minded when Nika or Wesley—or even Buffy—came to pick her up from school. In fact, she was proud of her Watcher and his family, proud of Buffy and Dawn and Connor.

For the first time, Hannah realized that she was ashamed of her mother.

"Mom," Hannah said. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to get you," Mara MacDougall replied. "Did you think I'd let them keep you forever? We need to leave now."

Hannah shook her head. "No, mom. I don't live with you anymore."

"You're my daughter!" Mara replied, her voice rising. "You're mine! Those people, taking you away, putting ideas in your head. We have to go now." She glanced around, and Hannah could see the paranoia in her eyes. "They're watching us."

Hannah realized with horror that her mother had finally completely disconnected from reality. She wasn't surprised, exactly, but the shock of seeing her mother again for the first time in years hit her hard. "Mom, they're not watching us," Hannah replied. "You aren't supposed to be here."

"What? I can't see my own kid now?" Mara stared at her. "You're coming with me. You don't belong here."

It was something Hannah had feared—that she really didn't belong. That she would grow up to be like her mom. That she was wrong in the head.

She was the Slayer. What would happen if she went nuts?

"Mom, I can't go with you," Hannah replied, tears coming to her eyes. "I'm living with really nice people now. It's permanent."

Mara reached out and seized her arm in a tight grip. "You're my daughter! My blood! They've turned you against me. Well, we'll just see about that. You'll understand. I'll make you understand."

Hannah was paralyzed with fear. It was possible. Maybe her mom had gotten custody back. What if she couldn't live with Wesley and Nika any longer? What if they had decided they didn't want her? It had happened before.

In that moment, Hannah was suddenly ten again, before her mom had taken to her bed completely, when she'd fly off in fits of rage, when it had been her job to keep her mom as calm as possible.

In that moment, Hannah forgot she was the Slayer.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" Enid came bustling into the office, her sharp eyes taking in the tableau in front of her. "Hannah? Are you alright, cariad?"

Enid's voice broke Hannah out of her stupor. "Nain?"

The older woman somehow managed to insert herself between Mara and her daughter. "You don't belong here," she stated in a flat tone. "Hannah is ours now."

Hannah wasn't sure what exactly happened, but Mara blinked as though coming out of—or possibly going into—a trance. "I should go," she muttered. "Don't belong here."

"We'll take good care of Hannah," Enid said.

Mara turned and shuffled out. "Good care," she agreed, sounding drugged. Hannah stared after her mom, her heart thudding in her chest. She glanced around the office, seeing the office personnel standing there, staring at her.

Mr. Colson, the assistant principal, a stocky, balding man in his thirties, came hurrying in. "Mrs. Rhys, you're here. I'm sorry. I was called away to take care of another matter, and—" He looked around, seeing the avid looks the secretaries and student aids wore and Hannah's pale face. "In my office."

"What is going on?" Enid demanded as soon as the door was closed.

Mr. Colson shook his head. "I really am sorry, Mrs. Rhys, Hannah. Mrs. MacDougall showed up, demanding to see her daughter. Our records indicated that she no longer had custody, so we thought it best to call Hannah's guardians. As I said, I was called away on another matter. I'm not sure who sent for Hannah, but that was not my intent." Mr. Colson met Hannah's eyes. "I am very sorry that you had to go through that, Hannah."

"It's okay," she said faintly. "It's not your fault. Mom can be really persuasive when she wants to be."

Enid put a comforting hand on Hannah's back. "I'm taking the girl home," she said firmly. "She's not going back to class today."

"Of course," Mr. Colson agreed. "Again, I apologize. That scene never should have happened." He looked grim.

Enid nodded, satisfied that his apology was sincere. "Mistakes happen," she said. "Most people don't think there's anything wrong with a mother wanting to see her child."

Mr. Colson nodded, relieved that things had been smoothed over. After the fiasco the previous year with the football player, he had no desire to upset the Wyndam-Pryces yet again. They were fiercely protective of their ward. "Thank you. Please, Hannah, take as much time as you need. If you want to speak to the school counselor, or—"

Hannah shook her head, cutting him off. "No, that's okay. I'll be fine, really." She looked over at Enid. "Can we go now?"

"Of course." Enid stood, accepting the handshake that Mr. Colson offered. "Thank you for calling me so quickly."

"I'm just glad you arrived when you did," he admitted. "I wasn't sure how I was going to get rid of her short of calling the police. If it happens again, I'll be calling them first."

"That's probably a good idea," Enid agreed. She led Hannah out of the office. "Are you alright, cariad annwyl?"

Hannah nodded. "I'm fine, Nain, really."

Enid patted her arm. "Good girl. I know just what we need."

"What's that?" Hannah asked, knowing that it was probably food. Enid's solution to most things included food.

"Chocolate," Enid replied, knowing about Hannah's sweet tooth.

Hannah managed a smile. "That sounds perfect."

~~~~~

Nika rushed into the house, a worried frown creasing her brow. "Nain?"

"Right here, Danika," Enid called from the kitchen.

"How is she?"

"In her room, working on homework," Enid replied. "I've already called Wesley, and he said he'd try to make it home soon, but this negotiation is tricky."

Nika sighed. "I'll be glad when he's here, but the damage has already been done. Neither of us wanted this to happen."

"No one could have predicted this, cariad," Enid assured her. "You know the social workers thought she was completely nutty."

Nika shook her head. "I've already called Connor. He said he'd make certain that the custody agreement is airtight."

Enid ran a soothing hand down her granddaughter's hair. "Nika, you know it's safe. There isn't anyone in the world mad enough to hand custody back to that woman. They've already terminated her parental rights."

"I know," Nika whispered in reply. "I do not want to lose her, though."

"Nika?"

She turned to see Hannah in the doorway, staring at her with wide eyes. "Oh, sweetheart," Nika said, embracing her. "I'm so very sorry. That must have been terribly distressing for you."

"Mom said—"

"It doesn't matter what she said." Nika's tone was firm, no-nonsense. "You're one of the family, and you're not going anywhere."

Hannah hugged her tightly, not wanting to let go. Seeing her mother again had brought back a lot of memories, few of them good. At the time, Hannah hadn't seen much wrong with her life. She had known that her family wasn't like most, but she didn't realize how bad it really was until she'd lived with her Watcher for a while.

It was the difference between eating stale bread from the sale bin at the discount grocery store and feasting every day. It was the difference between worrying that the mail carried an eviction notice and knowing that the roof over your head would be there year after year.

The idea that she might be killed, that the Slayer's life was a short one, couldn't touch the security Hannah experienced for the first time in her life.

Nika stroked Hannah's hair, reveling in the opportunity to mother the girl. "Do you really think we'd let you go?"

Hannah shook her head. "I guess not. It's just—"

"Whatever she said, your mother does not know you," Nika murmured. "She does not know your strength and your spirit." She pulled back to look at the girl. "Go have a snack. Tomorrow I'll call you in sick, and we'll go do something. Maybe Buffy will want to come with us. It'll be a girls' day out, hmm?" Nika gave Hannah's cheek a loving touch.

Hannah nodded eagerly, accepting the cookie that Enid handed to her. "Eat," the older woman said. "You're too thin."

The Slayer grinned. Enid said the same thing to everyone, even Angel, who didn't eat people-food. Of course, Hannah got the sense that Enid just liked tweaking Angel.

"Yes, Nain," she replied obediently, biting into the cookie.

Enid sniffed. "You think I don't know," she said, her eyes boring into Hannah's. "This is where you belong, child. This is where you were meant to be. Never doubt it."

Hannah didn't know what to say.

~~~~~

It was obvious that they were trying too hard. Or maybe it wasn't too hard, but their reassurance was palpable. The next day, Nika and Buffy took her shopping. They had a girls' day out as promised, and then Spike, Buffy, and Meg all came over for dinner. Hannah noticed that all of her favorite foods were present. It was like her birthday, but not.

Maybe it was over-the-top, but Hannah appreciated the gesture. It meant a lot to her.

She allowed herself to believe that things were better, that her mom wouldn't show up again. A week went by, and she let her guard down. Things were back to normal. Wesley was hounding her because she was dropping her shoulder. Spike was giving her a hard time about tripping over a tombstone while on patrol.

It was the typical after-patrol thing, but special because Wesley rarely went out with them these days, and she'd had the company of both Spike and Wesley out that evening. Nika brought them tea when they came in, and Enid came in to talk. Hannah relaxed further.

She should have realized that's when life hits you the hardest.

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted the conversation. Nika and Spike were arguing over a movie they'd gone to see with Buffy and Wesley. Her Watcher was refusing to comment, and so he was the one to answer the door.

Hannah, in a state of drowsy contentment, perked up slightly when she heard the voices. They sounded all too serious for her taste. A man and a woman followed Wesley into the living room. "Hannah, perhaps you'd best join us in my office."

She saw the look that Wesley gave Nika, and she knew what that meant as well. It meant that Nika was supposed to come too and that it was really serious.

Hannah felt numb following Wesley and the strangers back into his office. She could barely feel Nika's hand on her shoulder, trying to steady her. "Hannah, this Detective Green and Detective Schultz. They're from the Los Angeles Police Department."

"I don't understand," Hannah said. "What—"

"You might want to sit down, Hannah," Detective Green, the female detective, said. "This is difficult."

Hannah shook her head. "No, I'd rather stand."

Detective Schultz sighed. "I'm very sorry to tell you that your mother was killed earlier today."

"She was killed?" Hannah asked, not understanding. "Somebody killed my mom?"

Detective Green shook her head. "No, I'm very sorry. At the present time, it appears as though Mrs. MacDougall might have jumped from a building. We're waiting for a full investigation, but..."

Hannah didn't know if she was supposed to cry or not. Would she be a horrible person if she didn't? If she didn't cry, did that mean she didn't love her mom? What kind of monster didn't love their mother?

Apparently, her shock passed as grief for the detectives, and they left, murmuring their condolences. Hannah could feel Nika's arms around her, but she couldn't make sense of it. Her mom was dead, and all she could feel was relief. Now Hannah really wouldn't have to live with her ever again.

Hannah never could quite remember how she managed to get to bed that night, or how she made it through the next few days. Her emotions were so mixed that she couldn't seem to make sense of anything. The twins were especially nice, and Buffy came and said she knew how Hannah felt, and Nika hugged her a lot.

Wesley was the one who went to the funeral with her. They were the only ones there besides the minister. Hannah wasn't even sure who made the arrangements for the funeral, but she assumed it was her Watcher. She didn't train, and she didn't patrol, and no one asked her to.

The worst part was that Hannah couldn't cry. She knew she should, but she couldn't make the tears come. There was guilt and relief and horror filling her head and heart in equal measure.

And Hannah was scared to death that she was going to turn out to be just like her mom.

She was unprepared for Spike's appearance at her bedroom door two nights after the funeral. "Let's go."

"What?"

"We're goin'." Spike gestured at her impatiently. "Get your gear."

Hannah was too caught up in her emotions to question Spike's commands. Besides, she was the Slayer. She was supposed to be patrolling. That's what she did.

No one stopped them as they left the house. Hannah strapped her helmet on and climbed on the bike behind Spike. She let the sound of the air rushing over her soothe her nerves.

She noticed the vampires immediately. Apparently Spike had known exactly where to find them. Hannah didn't waste any time. She jerked her helmet off, pulled a stake out of her pack, and took off running.

When the first vampire disintegrated, a great burning rage seemed to erupt out of nowhere. She was screaming, but she couldn't tell what she was saying. The anger made everything intense, but she felt detached from her own body at the same time.

Strong arms pulled her off the last vampire, and she watched as Spike staked it, hanging onto her with his other hand, as though she'd run away otherwise.

Hannah was taking great gasping breaths, and she was crying. There were tears streaming down her face, but she was quiet now.

Everything was still as death.

"Come on, luv," Spike murmured quietly, pulling her into a rough embrace. "Tell me what happened."

She couldn't. She couldn't put it into words lest it was true. They would all know then. They would figure it out, and—

"Hush now," Spike said, still holding her. "Nika and Wesley are worried sick about you. Tell me what's goin' on in that head of yours."

"I'm a horrible person," Hannah said against his chest, and suddenly the tears were coming again. She was sobbing against Spike's chest and telling him everything—how she hated her mom and never wanted to see her again. How she was relieved her mom was dead and that she was glad she didn't have to go back to her. How she was afraid that she'd go crazy, and she was the Slayer. What happened when a Slayer went nuts?

Spike was saying something, repeating it over and over, and the words finally penetrated her daze. "She didn't deserve you, luv. She didn't deserve to have you."

"I hated her," Hannah confessed.

"She didn't do right by you, Sweet," Spike replied. "It's alright to hate her."

"You're not supposed to hate your mother."

"She wasn't any kind of mum. It's gonna be okay."

Hannah sniffled and pulled back. "What if I'm like her? What if I go crazy?"

"You're stronger than that, luv," Spike replied. "Trust me, I lived with a bloody loon for a century. You're not crazy."

She made a choked sound that might have been a laugh. "Thanks, Spike."

He smiled at her, and Hannah could have lost herself in his eyes. She loved him, she realized. It wasn't a schoolgirl crush, and it wasn't romantic love—it was something else altogether. Spike was like her guardian angel, even though she'd never tell him that.

"This world, our world, is where you belong now, Hannah-luv," Spike said quietly. "Don't doubt that."

Because Spike was her hero, Hannah could believe him. "Okay."

"Let's blow this joint," Spike said, a grin forming. "We'll go take a ride."

"Ice cream?"

Spike laughed. "Whatever you like, pet. Best milk the sympathy while you can, yeah?"

It wasn't like that, and they both knew it. "Yeah," she agreed.

For the first time in a while, Hannah felt as though the earth beneath her was stable again.