Buffy kissed Dawn good-bye before jumping into the swirling vortex that led to the hell dimension Glory called home. Pain more intense than anything she could imagine wracked her body. The ground sped up to greet her rapid descent. Her small body hit with enough force to leave an impression on the solid rock floor. A single item landed beside her with the soft tinkling sound of metal. It was the knife that Doc used to cut Dawn.

An earthquake shook the fault line from Sunnydale to LA. The wounded and heartbroken Scoobies looked at each other in shock. Gazing up at the platform, they witnessed the vortex snap shut. Spike crawled to the bottom of the steps, intent on reaching his Niblet. He sighed with relief when he saw her slowly walked down the steps. Dawn silently sat down beside him, never uttering a word. His dark blue eyes searched for the Slayer. Spike turned to Dawn, unable to believe what he saw there; he turned to the others and saw the same shell-shocked look in their faces. Spike felt his heart break. Knowing his promise to watch after the Niblet would was all that kept him from greeting the sun. Giles walked over picking up Dawn in his arms while Tara and Willow helped Spike. Silent tears fell down their faces as it slowly soaked in that the person who protected, befriended, and gave their lives meaning was gone.

Buffy slowly crawled to her hands and knees. Her fingers landed on the silver knife, automatically wrapping around the hilt as she shakily got to her feet. Trying to see her surroundings better, her eyes squinted in an effort to adjust to the darkness. A circle of light directly above head provided the only light in the otherwise pitch-black surroundings. Buffy took a tentative step and the light followed her. She looked up, but couldn't see where it was coming from. Shrugging a shoulder, she started walking over the rubble that seemed endless. Buffy clasped the knife ready to respond to an attack from direction. A journey to find information began with shaky steps that continued to grow stronger with each one that followed.

A hellhound watched the new arrival from a large boulder several yards away. Saliva dripped from a mouth full of sharp canines. Its mouth appeared to turn up into a hungry grin. Red eyes gleamed in the dark, soon joined by several other pairs. The pack followed their leader's stance by hunching their legs, ready to attack the latest victim of their portion of HELL.

Buffy stopped when her fingertips started tingling. Strong legs bent slightly at the knees while muscles flexed then tightened throughout a small body created as Earth's ultimate weapon against the darkness.

The pack leader pushed off the boulder into a giant leap landing in front of the strange creature. Its head titled as it sniffed the air. The scent was strange to this world.

A laugh answered the deep growl. "What are you supposed to be, Frankendog? Looks like the doctor forgot to put in the rest of your brain."

The hound wasn't sure what to do next. The very sight of him should cause this being to stink of fear. The pack sniffed the air in unison, as if they were a single entity. The leader looked back over its shoulder and a single thought went through their minds - ATTACK! Before the others could join him, the leader pounced and Buffy returned the feral grin. Smoothly spinning out of the way, she brought the knife up to meet the attacking beast. A clean slice took off a front paw, causing the hound to howl in anger and pain.

"Ooh, the poor ugly doggy got a bobo. Maybe you should go find someone else to play with." Buffy slowly advanced on the wounded demon. The other pack members growled moving forward as a single unit. Baring their teeth, a rumble emitted from each of their chests. "I guess that your friends want to play now. Don't die on me, I'll be back to finish the job."

Buffy kicked one beast in the head while she used the knife on yet another. The blood seemed to cause a feeding frenzy, which caused them all to jump at her in a flash. She punched, kicked, and cut whatever came near her. A set of claws raked her arm, but it was the demon that howled and jumped back. Wherever the hellhounds came in contact with Buffy's blood, it ate away the flesh as if it was acid. Buffy didn't even notice while she systematically slayed them one by one. The leader was the only one still alive when she strolled over to crouch down to simply slit its throat.

Her eyes widened when she saw the carcasses fade out of sight. "Way freaky, I wonder if they come back like Dracula." With no other choice, she set off in the direction she was previously heading. Buffy tried to slide the knife in the back of her pants when she realized for the first time that she wasn't wearing any. Looking down, she saw a mid-thigh 'dress' made from a wispy gold material. Feeling around, she found that a beaded choker held it together at the neck, and there seemed to be a matching wristband on her right wrist. Another strange thing to add to long list was her skin. It was a deep gold, much darker than her normal skin tone. Putting her arms out to examine them, she noticed a strange tattoo on her right bicep. It resembled a Chinese character and was the same color as her 'dress'.

"This place is giving me the wiggins." She looked up then down. "Is this dress supposed to embarrass me or something? They missed the mark on that one; I've worn shorter. The tan is cool but I'm not crazy about the tattoo." Buffy grumbled to herself. What she couldn't see was that her hair had turned the palest of golds, almost white. No, the Slayer didn't know all the changes that landing in HELL would cause her and others.

Lucifer looked at the creature who had invaded his world and wasn't happy at all. He wasn't sure how this happened, but he damned sure was going to find out. This could cause the balance to tip too far, and his army wasn't ready yet. No, the End of Days would come when he was stronger. As abhorrent as it was for him, Lucifer sent Balan, one of the kings of Hell, to request a meeting. This must be stopped before it caused him to play a hand that he knew he wouldn't win. Losing wasn't an option, not this time. He would win the battle and rule over Hell and Earth.

The Archangel Michael watched as one of Earth's protectors sacrificed her life to save the world. He waited at the pearly gates to welcome her home, but she never arrived. After quickly searching the cosmos, shock resounded through Heaven to discover that she was in Hell. How could this have happened? The Chosen Warriors were never meant to be anywhere but paradise as a reward for their service. Michael worried about the repercussions, not only to the Slayer, but also to the balance. He watched over this particular girl from the first moment of her calling. Her exceptional skills and giving heart were a powerful combination.

Now, with this latest development, she crossed over to become what all Slayers held within their power to become - a Warrior Angel. Michael wasn't sure how to proceed; the Chosen One had to be released from Hell. The problem was that pure beings of Heaven, any of the nine choirs of angels, were not able to cross over into Hell. Laws created upon Hell's inception forbade either side to venture into another's boundaries.

Half-breeds, Guardian Angels, or sub-level demons, were on Earth to influence man towards Heaven or Hell. Archangels could interfere on man's behalf in certain circumstances and then the boundaries were clear. Each had a specific role to play in order to fulfill God's plan. The Slayers were to help keep the balance when the last true demon left Earth to reside in one of Hell's dimensions.

Michael moved swiftly to meet with Gabriel. He appeared beside his fellow archangel in the blink of an eye. The Angel of Resurrection and the Messenger of God, Gabriel was tall with a slender build, the palest of skin, golden hair that curled to frame her face and deep blue eyes. Her eyes showed to any who saw them exactly what she was - an angel.

"Gabriel, you must arrange a meeting with one of Lucifer's Generals. The Slayer that sacrificed herself ended up in Hell itself. We must get her out before she tips the balance."

Papa Midnite stepped forward after overhearing the last statement. Poppa was a tall black man whose magical powers surrounded him like a cloak. He ran a club that represented Switzerland representatives of good or evil. Not just anyone could walk in off the street. People with mystical powers could gain entrance from an extremely large doorman, others left frustrated.

The two Archangels turned to see the powerful witch doctor standing there. Gabriel's eyebrow rose, while Michael's face didn't change one iota.

"What brings you here, Midnight? Aren't you afraid that you will disturb the balance?" The Angel of Protection didn't approve of Midnight's ignoring the atrocities demons perpetuated on Earth.

"Balthazar brought me a message that Balam needs to speak to Michael."

Gabriel glanced at Michael, wondering what would cause the commanders of Heaven's and Hell's armies to agree to meet - the situation must be dire.

Michael bowed his head, understanding what was happening even in this short period of time. Things move differently in the upper and lower realms. A day in Hell equaled one Earth year. It was imperative that the Slayer left as soon as possible.

John Constantine fought a soldier demon trying to come through a thirteen-year-old girl. The demon continued to scream and curse at him, while several men positioned a large mirror over the bed.

"Close your eyes, whatever you do don't look!" he ordered the helpers and audience crowded in the narrow hallway.

After performing the exorcism, the demon tried to escape, but found itself trapped in the mirror. John pulled on the rope only to discover that the mirror wouldn't fit through the window. The soldier demon pounded on glass. John was quickly running out of time. He pulled with all his might, finally feeling the mirror shoot through the window. An unholy scream filled the air as the mirror plummeted to the ground. It shattered into a thousand pieces effectively sending its prisoner back to Hell where it belonged.

The girl's mother rushed into the room to kiss John's hand. He never knew what to do in situations like this. He could save someone from dying of unimaginable pain, but he couldn't save himself. Shaking a cigarette from a crumpled pack, John lit it and inhaled the first puff as if it were nirvana. He walked down the hall where people parted for him to pass. This reaction was normal, they didn't know if he was cursed or blessed, but John knew his gift was a curse.

John had been able to see what lay under a person's skin since childhood, demons, and angels alike. He saw his first half-breed, a demon, at the age of five. Riding the bus with his parents, he saw an elderly woman's face change to a decayed mask. His parents didn't believe him. They tried to get him help, which eventually led to his suicide at seventeen. John slit his wrists, unknowingly sentencing his soul to Hell.

They say he was only dead for two minutes, but that was a lifetime in Hell. Now, his life's mission centered around killing enough evil to balance the scales. The problem was that once Hell marked your soul, Lucifer didn't let it go. John talked to Gabriel on a regular basis, hoping his status had changed. The Archangel never said the words he longed to hear.

His good friend Father Hennesy, better known as Ether, stood waiting in the lobby. The portly priest fought his own demons. Born with a psychic gift, Hennesy turned to liquor to drown out the voices that screamed at him daily. He joined the priesthood in the hope that divine intervention would help him. Ether was wrong. It was John Constantine who found an ancient amulet that caused the voices to stop. He would do anything for John, well, anything within reason.

"I found you a good one, didn't I?" Ether had a sweet, round face that only looked right when he smiled.

"We have problems, Ether. That wasn't a normal exorcism. It was soldier demon." John told his friend in his straightforward way.

"But, that's impossible! They can't cross over into this realm. Are you sure, John? Of course, you're sure, if anyone would know you would. What can I do to help?" Ether asked, ready to step in what he could for his friend.

John stared at the charm around the priest's neck causing Ether to pale. A shaking hand clasped the charm like lifeline. "I need you, Ether. I need you to listen to the voices, to find out what's going on here. If more soldiers try this eventually one will get through, then we're all fucked."

He walked outside to a waiting taxicab, climbing in back, and lit another cigarette. The mystical warrior couldn't for more than two minutes without lighting up.

"You could have warned me that you planned to launch a huge mirror at me," the driver, a young man in his early twenties, complained. He wore a leather beret over shaggy blonde hair. A book on arcane occultism lay on the dashboard. "When are you going to let me help, Constantine? I've read the books, and know what to do. Come on, Constantine, give me a shot." His baby faced features begged John to allow him to follow his hero's example.

Closing deep brown eyes and letting out a long trail of smoke, John sighed. "There aren't enough books in the world to prepare you for the real thing, Chas. Just drive to where I tell you to go." He barked out the orders then leaned against the seat to stare out the window.

Chas frowned at once again being turned down before following Constantine's directions. Pulling up in front of a club the he didn't know existed.

Buffy fought towards a building up ahead. Every step seemed to bring out a new demon ready to take on the strange creature in this weird dimension. She wasn't sure what she expected Glory's home to look like but this sure as hell wasn't it. Why would the hell goddess fight so hard to get here? Buffy imagined there would be demons. She also thought people would inhabit this world, well, some type of people.

Hearing a scream caused Buffy to stop. She took off running in the direction it came from in a blur of silver and white. Burnt out cars littered the sides of what looked like a highway. Demons fought, while fire shot up from the ground. The demons stopped to turn as a golden blur zoomed by them. They sniffed the air, trying to determine what had come to Hell. It didn't smell like anything they remembered that belonged in this pit of hate, fear, and despair. It smelled like - HOPE.

Buffy rushed into a scene that stopped her cold. Demons of all shapes and sizes were torturing, raping, and, well, eating people. The knife already in her hand as she saw an especially large demon raping a small, blonde woman. When the blonde head lifted, recognition dawned on Buffy; it was Veruca, the werewolf Oz killed to save Willow. Buffy didn't wonder how she got here, the Slayer in her responded to a cry for help.

The silver edge slashed into hides, scales, and skin. Fist and feet followed it as she moved everywhere at once, only to disappear from the path of claws and teeth. While still gripping the blade, Buffy took a demon's head twisting it until a loud snap sounded. The crunching bones caused the remaining tormentors to run.

Veruca glanced up to see what her new tormentor looked like. Surprise showed in her large brown eyes. A small, golden hand reached down to help her up, and Veruca hesitantly took it. Deep green eyes searched for any serious injury, and she sighed in relief to find none.

The AI team bubbled over with excitement, finally to have made it home. Pylea was an experience they were equally happy to leave behind them.

A huge grin spread across Angel's face. "I want to say it, let me say it." The normally broody vampire was acting like a schoolboy rather than a man who was over 250 years old. His friends tried to hide the temptation to laugh at their friend. Cordelia nodded at her former boss. Angel's grin grew even larger. "There's no place like," he threw open the front doors, only to come to a stand still. The last word came out in a deflated sigh, "home."

Willow sat there alone in the dark looking pale and somber. The usual joy that normally sparkled behind her large green eyes didn't show on her face. "Angel." Standing up, still unsure how to tell him that the most important person in both their lives was gone. "It's Buffy."

Angel slowly moved forward as if his feet were made of lead. Once he stood directly before Willow, he fell to his knees. Angel looked up with dark, expressive eyes, begging to hear the lie that she was still alive. Willow's answered with the tears silently falling down her cheeks. She didn't think it possible to cry anymore. The red headed witch thought she'd cried until her body couldn't produce any more moisture to sustain tears. Willow gathered Angel in a hug. He wrapped his arms around her slender waist and wept.

The other AI team members looked on, shell-shocked. Cordelia joined her friend and even wrapped an arm around Willow. She never liked Buffy, especially after the way Angel gave back his humanity. Of course, the fact that Buffy didn't remember and lashed out in pain escaped the seer, who only saw her friend's side and no other. No, Cordelia didn't really like Buffy, but she respected what she did.

Fred timidly glanced up at Wesley and Gunn. The emotions swirling around the room were starting to become overwhelming to the previous cave dweller. She slid her hand into Wesley's for comfort. He turned and looked down at her with kind blue eyes before pulling her close to his side and wrapping an arm around tiny shoulders.

In a soft whisper, Wesley explained. "Buffy was the Vampire Slayer. More importantly, Angel loved her very much. She was the reason that he started helping fight back against evil."

"Oh!" Fred's active imagination created an Amazon with large muscles and flowing locks. Everything seemed so strange and new, but she knew this was her world. The one a portal stole her from five long years ago. Fred admitted that Ange's handsome face caused her heart to flutter. He was the dashing hero that rescued her, but with Wesley's quiet ways, she felt safe.

"I'll show you to a room, Winifred. You should clean up then get some rest. Buffy was my charge for a short while, and I would like to know more about the circumstances of her death.

Fred smiled in understanding. Gunn stepped up, saying, "I'll take her, English. You go ahead, that way no one has to tell it more than once."

"Is that all right with you, Winifred?"

"Y-yes, Wesley, I'll be fine." She reluctantly stepped away from the shelter of his arms to wait for Gunn to lead the way. The men noticed that she didn't get as close to the street fighter, but they understood her reasons.

Wesley walked over to join the trio huddling together. He quietly asked the question on everyone's mind. "What happened, Willow?"

She took a deep breath before explaining about Dawn, Glory, the Knights, Tara, and the final outcome. "Buffy jumped to close the portal. From what Dawn said, it needed her blood to close, and since the monks created Dawn from Buffy's blood…"

"Buffy knew that her's would have the same effect." Wesley finished the sentence. He remembered another time that she gave her blood freely to save a loved one. Catching Angel's eye, he saw that the souled vampire was thinking the same thing.

"We're already trying to find some way to get her back. My magic's much stronger and Tara's is even stronger. We're close to having the right spell. The thought of leaving Buffy in a hell dimension is unbearable."

"You can't do that!" Everyone turned to stare at Wesley.

"Why? How can you even say that? I know you didn't like Buffy because she fired you and quit the Council, but that's no reason to wish her in hell." Willow's eyes started turning black keeping pace with her anger. Magic rushed into the room causing goose pimples to dance across suddenly cold skin.

"Willow, take a chill pill. And, what is with the whole black eyes thing? Buffy wasn't my favorite person either, but I wouldn't wish her in a hell dimension, and neither would Wesley," Cordelia said matter of factly. She wasn't sure what happened to the little mouse she knew in high school, and wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Wesley turned large blue eyes brimming with knowledge and sadness to Willow. "I don't hate Buffy. In fact, I owe her a large debt of gratitude. My getting fired was the best thing that ever happened to me. It forced me to learn how to think for myself. Buffy was an exceptional person. My deepest regret is that I never took the opportunity to get to know her better." Anyone listening could hear the sincerity in his voice.

Willow shut her eyes, taking a deep calming breath and reigned in her magic. She decided to listen to what Wesley had to say.

"If there was a safe way to open the hell dimension and acquire Buffy, I would be ecstatic. Unfortunately, the power needed to do just that would end up ripping a hole in our own dimension. There are also numerous hell dimensions. The chances of opening the correct one, and then closing it again, are astronomical. Although, I hate to say this, time moves differently on each one. Angel explained that in the four months he was gone that over five hundred years passed in the hell dimension Acathala sent him. The other repercussions could not only be what could come through in Buffy's place, but also what about Dawn?" Breathing heavily from speaking quickly, not sure how long his audience would listen to him; Wesley paused hoping that she would take his words seriously.

"What do you mean? What does Dawnie have to do with this?" Confusion clouded Willow's expressive eyes.

"If it took Buffy's blood to close the portal, won't it take the only other person who had the same blood to close it?"

Willow paled at the thought of getting Buffy back by sacrificing the sister she died for. "No, there has to be a way." She collapsed back on the rounded sofa that she waited the long hours for Angel to return.

"I'm sorry, Willow, but it's too dangerous. We should honor Buffy's bravery along with her life. Cordelia and I'll leave you two alone." Wesley put a deceptively strong hand on the seer's arm all but dragging her from the room.

"Wesley what is you damage? Angel needs his friends right now." She struggled against the insistent Watcher.

"No, Cordelia, he needs to share memories with someone who loved Buffy almost as much as he did."

"Angel, she left us letters. Somehow, Buffy knew that she might not come back."

He took an envelope with his name clearly written in Buffy's elegant writing. She addressed simply to "My Angel." His fingers shook as he sat down heavily to open the last communication he would ever have from the person who made his life have meaning.

Dearest Angel,

Always your girl,
Buffy.

Angel turned to the next page to find an old parchment written in Edwardian Script. Removal of a Curse, Circa 1900, W.C.

"She asked me to deliver this last gift for her. Buffy loved you very much and wanted you to have a full life, even if she wasn't in it," Willow explained, patting him on the shoulder.

Pale pink tears streamed down his face, Angel gave Buffy's gift an uncommon honor, tears of blood. Vampires wept blood only as tribute to their sire or the head of their clan. In both his personas, Angel and Angelus had never offered this gift. The only other time was at Buffy's graduation.

"How did she get this?"

"The Watchers Council came to Sunnydale because they had information on Glory. They wouldn't give it to Buffy until she passed some stupid tests. She finally got pissed off and told them that without her, there wasn't a need for a Council. Then, she informed them that if they wanted her to handle Glory, they would be working for her." Willow gave a small grin caused by the memory of Quentin Travers' face. "They gave us everything they knew, which wasn't much, except Glory was a hell god. Buffy took them for all they were worth. Giles was reinstated with back pay. The Council put in writing that Slayers would be paid equal to their Watchers, with bonuses for each year they stayed alive. We're even on the payroll, with benefits and everything. Buffy hit them up for the spell, and we all thought she was crazy. You could have knocked us over with a feather when they produced this along with the folder on Glory."

Angel couldn't comprehend what he'd just heard. "You mean they had this all along? Why didn't they remove the curse? Even the Watcher's Council couldn't be stupid as to chance Angelus' return.

"They figured that the next Slayer would take care of the problem." Willow shrugged, not caring to think about the next Slayer. Her mind was full with thoughts about Buffy, and now what to do with Dawnie.

As if he read her thoughts, Angel asked, "Who is going to take care of Dawn?"

Willow wasn't sure what the answer was. "Tara and I plan to move into the house with her until it's all settled. The Council agreed to help with any legal matters. We've discussed it, and Giles will petition the court for legal custody until Dawn's eighteen. Mr. Summers is in Europe, Spain I think. The memorial is tomorrow, just after sunset. There are quite a few demons that want to attend. Willy is even closing down the bar. We've tried to contact Riley, but he's in Belize on a mission. I hoped that you'd return tonight, otherwise, you'd have missed it, and I know that Buffy wanted you there."

Angel nodded, thankful that he didn't miss the chance to pay his respects and say good-bye to his love.

"I have to warn you, Angel. Spike will be there, and before you protest, just listen. He can't harm humans. The Initiative put a chip in his head. The truth is that he is devoted to Dawn. He promised Buffy that he would protect her. There is one more thing…" Nervously wringing her hands, the redheaded Wicca wasn't sure how to say this after everything else Angel suffered through tonight. "Spike fell in love with Buffy. He knew that she didn't return his feelings, but they were friends. Buffy depended on Spike to help her out when she needed back up. Angel, he's crushed by her death, and Dawn is the only thing keeping him going. I just needed to tell you because we won't let you upset him." Willow's resolve face slipped firmly into place.

Angel couldn't believe that his wayward grandchilde had created a place for himself in Buffy's life. Now, in her death, Spike, not Angel, stood entrenched with the family and friends. He didn't think that he could speak, and simply shook his head in agreement.

"We'll be there by sunset. Thank you for coming in person, Willow. I know this was hard for you." Angel turned to go up to his room, but stopped turning back when Willow called out to him.

"Angel, I'd like to do the spell now, if you don't mind. Everything is in here and I really need to get back to help finish up the arrangements. I don't want to leave Tara or Dawnie for too long." She didn't wait for his answer, just turned her back to him to start unloading candles, herbs, and incense from a large satchel that Angel hadn't even noticed.

"Could you get Cordy and Wesley? We need their help," Willow talked over her shoulder while she set the candles down to create a circle.

Constantine walked through the club, ignoring the stares and whispers that followed him. Not bothering to knock, he opened the door to Poppa's private domain. "Midnight, I need to use the chair. There is something big happening." He stopped talking when he saw who stood in the room.

Gabriel smiled at him, while Balthazar glared, causing his eyes to flash red. He cringed when he heard an angry growl from Balam. He aimed the growl at his companion rather than the famed demon hunter. If this half-breed caused this mission to fail, they would have 'Hell' to pay, literally.

Constantine looked beyond the strange pair in front of him to the two who stood beside Midnight. The ex-voodoo priest seemed perfectly at ease between a King of Hell and the commander of the Angels. "What the hell is going on here? Is this some kind of a set up?" John shook out a cigarette immediately lighting it up and taking a long drag.

"John, calm down. This isn't a set up. I promise," Gabriel tried to reassure the tormented man.

"Sure, Gabe, why would you be here together? You can't tell me this it's your poker night. Did you put that Soldier Demon in that girl on purpose? You did, didn't you! You knew that it would have me heading to see Poppa for answers. What's the matter, Luci tired of waiting on my soul?'' he snarled at them, shaking out yet another cigarette.

"Be still!" Michael took charge, seeing that Gabriel's feelings for Constantine were getting in the way. Constantine couldn't move as Gabriel came up to gently close the lighter for him. "You are right, there is something going on, but it isn't about you, not really. Someone landed in Hell who shouldn't be there. They're threatening the balance to a dangerous degree, and we need you to go and get them out." Michael didn't ask, he ordered fully expecting obedience.

Balthazar, Gabriel, and Papa Midnite rolled their eyes at the Archangel's approach. They knew Constantine wasn't one for blind obedience.

Michael got his answer with a bark of cynical laughter. "Sure thing, Mikey, I'll just rush right down, grab this person, have a few laughs with ole Luci, and be right back." No longer held under Michael's will, Constantine started for the door.

"Constantine, it isn't a joke. This person is destroying the balance, which will cause the End of Days," Midnight called after him.

Turning back from the door, he stared at Midnight. They weren't exactly friends, but Midnight believed in the balance. "Who is this person, and why don't yall just send them where they're meant to be?"

"You know it doesn't work that way, John." Gabriel turned to Michael, pleading showed in her eyes. "He isn't going to do anything unless you're honest with him."

Michael knew that time was of the essence. In this situation, he cursed free will. "Very well, her name is Buffy Summers, and she was a Slayer. Yes, John they are real. Buffy wasn't an ordinary Slayer. She far excelled her predecessors, freely giving her life to save the world. The problem is that she doesn't know that she's in Hell proper, but thinks it to be in one of its dimensions. Buffy is systematically destroying the demon population. If she stays much longer, Lucifer will have no choice except to start the final battle. You, more than anyone, don't want that to happen. You also know that time runs differently in Hell. Buffy doesn't feel the change. In fact, she arrived just after you left."

"But that was ten years ago!" Constantine's normally expressionless face showed shock. "What took you so long?"

"Searching the cosmos for her took time. It was only afterwards that we realized what happened. Do we need to talk about the space-time continuum between heaven, hell, and the cosmos? Are you ready? Balthazar and I will get you as close as possible to her current location." Michael reluctantly stepped beside the King of Hell about to take his hand. Constantine paced the room while Michael talked. His mind ran through scenarios to see what they weren't telling him. The pacing stopped when Michael stopped talking. Without a word to anyone, ignoring the people in the room, he headed for door.

"John! Where are you going? We need you to take care of this, now." Gabriel's normally peaceful face showed panic.

"After I check on a few things, I'll get back to you with my conditions."

Before anyone could stop him, he was gone. The two Archangels turned to each other, as did the high demons, wondering what just happened.

Papa Midnite couldn't stop the deep laughter from rumbling up from his chest. "Constantine is going to make you sweat it out. He'll be back when he gets enough information and knows that you're desperate enough to give him what he wants."

"No, absolutely not. It is bad enough that I have to work with them." Balam pointed at Michael and Gabriel. "Constantine will receive nothing else from me," he shouted at Papa Midnite, who simply leaned back in a large chair waiting for what came next. He didn't have to wait long.

A fire circle appeared on the floor, surrounding Balam. He sunk through the middle and disappeared. As one of the last reigning Kings of Hell, Balam felt true fear for the first time.

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