Forgiven

Author's Note: This story is based on the chorus of the Alanis Morrisette song, Forgiven. Also, although the guys are in LA with the Angel gang, I've put this under Buffy the Vampire Slayer because it's dealing with events in season 7 of Buffy and is mainly the Buffy characters.

It was Willow's CD apparently. But Andrew had noticed her singing along under her breath. She couldn't sing well, but it wasn't altogether awful, not according to the green guy anyway. Her favourite track seemed to be Forgiven.

Andrew didn't have a religion, unless you counted Star Trek. But he supposed he should have one by now. After all, he had been spared. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that, but he had stopped thinking about life like it was a story. But he hadn't come to any conclusions about life, the big questions, his reason for being here or anything, he had never really understood belief before and now… Now he found belief in anything beyond the moment complicated things because who knew if you'd be there the next moment? This, when put to Wesley, had made the ex-Watcher raise his eyebrows and smile a little.

"You've got a good point there," he had said.

Andrew crossed the cold floor of the hotel and slipped silently into the huge kitchen. It was four in the morning. He had discovered back in Sunnydale - back when there was a Sunnydale - that she would make her breakfast then, to avoid the crush of their other housemates. She had kept to this routine since they arrived at the Hyperion in the school bus a month back.

He observed her for a moment. Her long dark hair was pulled into an untidy ponytail and she wore pale blue pyjamas with white clouds on, just visible beneath her long white robe. She was singing softly.

"…We all had our reasons to be there, we all had a thing or two to learn, we all needed something to cling to. So we did -"

"Hey."

She jumped, letting out a frightened squeak. She spun around, pointing a spatula at him threateningly. Her glare softened when she registered who he was. Just Andrew, yawning sleepily, clad in sweatpants and a Harry Potter T-shirt.

"You scared the crap outta me!" she hissed.

"Sorry," he shrugged, swinging open the fridge door. "You know what's disturbing?" he mused aloud. "The fact that bags of O-pos in the fridge doesn't freak me out anymore."

He emphasised his point by pulling out two bags and juggling them somewhat clumsily with a lopsided grin.

"You're such a dork, Andrew," she smiled. "And y'know, Angel'll kill you if he catches you doing that."

"No, he won't," Andrew protested. "He's a goodie. Hey, Dawn, does blood freak you out?"

"Only if it's all over my new sweater," she replied, turning back to her pancakes. "Anyway, I got used to blood in the fridge. Spike used to keep some there when he stayed over while the guys patrolled," she gulped suddenly and fell silent.

"Do you miss him?" he asked, putting the blood away and sitting down.

"I dunno," she shrugged. "Sometimes I miss him calling me 'Bit' or something stupid. Or how he would play cards with me and cheat because he hated being beaten. But then I think it's wrong to miss him, after what he did… But Buffy forgave him, so I miss him… It's a whole circle type thing. And I really shouldn't be talking about this to you."

"Why not?"

"'Cause… 'Cause this is private stuff," she said. "Stuff I don't even tell Buffy 'cause I don't know how she feels about it."

"You could just ask her," he pointed out, grabbing an apple, then eyeing the pancakes she was making. "Can I have one of those?"

"Sure," she nodded and they fell silent.

It was only when she handed him his plate that she started talking again.

"I miss Tara too," she said softly. "She used to make me pancakes every morning. 'Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Dawnie,' she used to say. 'And pancakes are good for the soul.' She was so cool."

Andrew shifted uncomfortably and averted his gaze.

"It wasn't your fault, y'know," she said. "Warren was the nutcase, not you."

"But I liked him."

"People make mistakes," she shrugged, dousing her pancakes in syrup. "So… What do you think you're gonna do now? I mean, you still gonna work for your redemption?"

"Uh-huh," Andrew nodded, "but I don't know how. I mean, what's Buffy and the guys gonna do?"

"Far as I know, Willow's gonna finish up finding the Slayers in LA and we're gonna try and get to Cleveland before the new semester starts," she grimaced and stared at the slice of pancake on the end of her fork meditatively.

"Don't you wanna go?" he asked uncertainly.

"I guess I'm just sick of Hellmouths," she answered. "And I don't think I'll like Cleveland. What I'd really like..."

"What?" he pressed. "I won't tell anyone."

"I know, it's just… it's pretty dumb."

"So? I'm pretty dumb and I don't mind telling people."

She laughed a little at that.

"Well… I kinda like it here," she admitted. "'Cause I know people. Like Angel, I knew him before he came here and I kinda knew Wesley. And the others are cool. I used to live here before Buffy went crazy and burned down the school gym. And it's amazing, the work Angel and the guys do here. You've seen their offices, the old Wolfram and Hart building, can you say 'wow'? I guess I just don't want to go somewhere and be surrounded by Potentials again. I mean, I'm nearly seventeen, I don't get why I can't just stay here."

"'Cause really, you're only, like, three."

Dawn glared at him.

"That wasn't support, Andrew. What are you gonna do with your life, huh? At least I have dreams."

He shrugged, munching his pancake.

"I thought about staying here too," he admitted. "Get a proper job, but then I figured Angel wouldn't give me one."

"Why not? That's what Angel does. Ok, so he doesn't normally give nerds jobs, but there's a first time for everything. You're just too chicken to ask him."

"Well…" he searched for a retort. "Well, you're too chicken to ask Buffy if you can stay here and go to school and help Angel. So there!"

She blushed a little and scowled at him.

"Who said I won't ask her?"

"You know she probably won't let you, so you'll just go along with her, you won't even fight for what you want."

Dawn raised her eyebrows.

"Wow, Andrew. That was kinda spirited. Ever thought about becoming a cheerleader?"

"You may mock me," he said, nodding his head sagely. "But it will be I left to help fight the good fight in LA while you're in Cleveland."

"Really? Well, it just so happens that I'm going to ask Buffy if I can stay this afternoon."

"Yeah? Well, I'm going to ask Angel for a job this morning."

They were quiet, not looking at each other while they ate their breakfast, or in Dawn's case, slurped, as she had been a little over enthusiastic with the syrup.

"So… Are you really going to ask Angel for a job?" she asked.

"Yeah," though he didn't sound to confident. "You gonna ask Buffy if you can stay?"

"Yeah… Look, Andrew, how about we make a deal?"

"What kinda deal?" he asked warily.

"The kind where you swear to ask Angel for a job and where I swear to beg Buffy to let me stay."

"Oh. That kinda deal."

"Is it a deal then?"

He thought about it for a moment, then nodded. She smiled and extended her hand; he shook it warmly, then returned to his pancakes, wondering what he had let himself in for.

"Bye, Buffy," Dawn hugged her sister tightly. "Call me when you get there?"

"Yeah," Buffy was tearful, repeatedly hugging her sister. "And I'll visit every weekend. And I'll come for every school event, ok? And you just call me if you need anything. Oh, Dawnie, come with us?"

"No, Buffy," Dawn answered gently. "I'm gonna stay here and go to school like a good normal girl. Anyway, if I go with you, a week's begging would have been for nothing."

Buffy nodded, sniffed and hugged her sister once more. She turned to Wes and Angel.

"Look after her, ok? Make sure she eats fruit and don't let her have too much pizza, ok?"

"You sound like mom," Dawn muttered.

"She'll be fine, Buffy," Wesley assured.

"She's got her room sorted out, her school, her work on Saturday's at the office," Fred ticked off on her fingers. "It's all good."

"Plus," Angel murmured to Buffy. "I'm kinda glad she's sticking around, Andrew's moving permanently into the hotel too. I don't think I could cope with him without her."

Buffy glanced at Andrew who was "helping" Willow with her bags.

With one more round of hugs, the gang - Buffy, Willow, Xander, Kennedy and a few remaining original Potentials - boarded the school bus and waved energetically from the back windows at the LA gang and their two newest members.

Andrew didn't know much about religion. He didn't know what it would take for him to be forgiven for his murder of Jonathon and his involvement in the trio. But, according to Lorne, Dawn was apparently his guide. Not that he had shared this. Two months after waving goodbye to the Scoobies, life had settled down. Andrew worked in the science department with Fred and on Saturdays, Dawn helped Wesley with the research on the weekly bad.

At night, they retreated to their rooms in the hotel, which Angel had kept as a home to himself, Fred, Gunn, Dawn, Andrew, Lorne and occasionally Wesley. Nights which were often spent in Dawn's room, listening to music and discussing the old days in Sunnydale, occasionally talking of Anya, Spike and even less occasionally, Tara.

She still got up at four in the morning, still sang that same tune while flipping pancakes while he snuck up on her.

"...We all had our reasons to be there, we all had a thing or two to learn, we all needed something to cling to. So we did."

They both had their reasons to stay fighting the fight in LA. They could have got themselves nice normal lives, but normal really didn't do it for them. Yeah, they had a thing or two to learn. Andrew - for now - mainly had to learn not to choose a sword heavier than himself.

And yeah, they needed something to cling to. They had seen the darkness that surrounded the daylight, "normal," world. So they needed to cling to the fight, the knowledge that people needed to protect others normality in an effort to find a place for themselves in the world.

No, Andrew didn't know much about religion. Looking around at his life now, he hadn't known much about life before and he still had a lot to learn. But Andrew was starting to understand belief.

"Hey, Andrew, what're you thinking about?" Dawn waved a hand in his face before returning to swirling her straw through her soda.

"I was just… You know that song you sing, the Alanis Morrisette one?"

"Yup. What about it?"

"Do you actually believe that? That we have reasons to be here, stuff to learn and stuff to cling to?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"Wow, I sing it so much, you know most of the words. I gotta get a new song."

"Do you?" he pressed.

"I guess," she nodded, frowning slightly. "I mean, if we didn't have reasons to be here, why would we be here? If we didn't have things to learn, or need something to cling to, why would anyone do what they do? Why would we do what we do?"

They both knew it was a rhetorical question.

Ok, so Andrew didn't get religion, but he had belief. He believed in a fight, a fight that gave you the only reason you'd ever need to be here. A fight that made you cherish every little thing you had. He cherished his friends, because he would never have thought he would look upon the people of Angel Investigations as friends, or that they would see him as a friend.

He was starting to believe that maybe there was something bigger out there. Call it God, or the Powers That Be, or whatever. He was starting to believe because how else would a guy like him have survived a battle like the one in Sunnydale? How else would a guy like him have found a friend like Dawn, friends like all the other guys? How else would a guy like him have found reason in life by helping fight for other peoples?

So yeah, he was starting to understand.

And he was starting to think maybe there was some kind of plan in all the chaos of good and evil and shades of grey. Maybe his real reason for being here, doing what he was doing - albeit not very well - maybe the real reason was that one day, he would be forgiven.

And for now, that was all the belief he needed.

The End.