"Right, now we're back, you can tell me who you are." Dylan said into his reflection in the spare room in his grandfather's house tucked just outside Sunnydale. There in the glass materialized a young man with almost the same features as Dylan. The nose, the hair, the broad shoulders and the shape of his face. However, the eyes were a chocolate brown, instead of the emerald green of Dylan's.
"My name is Dylan Devons. I'm your great-great-great grandfather."
"What?"
"I've been dead for a hundred years, almost. Dylan, listen, I need you to let me take control of your body, so I can get revenge. I tried it with your grandfather, but-"
"You killed grampa!?" Dylan screamed at the spirit. "Why should I let you take my body when you killed my grandfather?!?!"
"Dylan, please!" Dylan pleaded with his grandson. The younger Devons-Meurtreir stormed away, tears trying not flood over. "I wish it didn't have to come to this…" Dylan felt the feeling come over him again. His grandfather was getting in again, and taking control.
"No! Get out!" the boy crumpled to the floor, screaming at his grandfather. The tears were flowing now, from the pain of it all.
"This is for your own good! In my day we didn't disobey our elders!"
'Leave me alone!' Dylan screamed. He suddenly realized that the older Dylan had control.
"Dylan, darling, are you alright?" Mrs. Devons-Meurtreir asked, running in to console her son. Dylan looked up and wiped the tears away.
"Yes mother, I'm okay. Can I go out?"
"I think you should go to bed, you're still hung over from the funeral."
"No, I'm not. Can I go out?" Dylan asked again in a demanding tone.
"Don't use that voice with me young man." She warned, getting angry.
"I do as I please. I have to go." Her son's eyes flashed with something like fire and he walked to the door. His mother grabbed his hand before it could get the knob and Dylan slapped her hard across the face. He flung open the door and walked out.
"Dylan Devons-Meurtreir the Fifth, get back here right now!" she screamed after him, clutching the side of her face. Mr. Devons-Meurtreir came hobbling into the foyer on his crutches and found his wife by the open door in pain and his son who had walked down the driveway and was headed for Sunnydale.
"Sara, what happened?"
"It's Dylan; he's got something wrong with him. His eyes are a different color…and he slapped me." Sara told her husband, taking her hand away and showing the bruise that was forming.
"Damn boy…"
* * *
"It was really weird Giles, he knew Spike and Angel's real names, but he was only…like our ages." Buffy told the librarian. "Plus he kept spacing out."
"What was his name?" Rupert Giles asked, setting his glasses on the table.
"Dylan Devons." Willow said.
"Hey, I've heard that name before. Some guy named Dylan Devons-Meurtreir III died two days ago in that plane crash outside San Diego." Xander Harris pointed out.
"The Third? That wouldn't be possible, if you two can verify that he is only 18." Giles said as the door of the Sunnydale High School library opened to reveal a tall, distinguished young man in a black dress suit, with clean-cut black hair, glassed over dark brown eyes and a certain tingle in the air around him.
"Hello, my name is Dylan Devons. You, Buffy, said you would take me to Angelus when I arrived here."
"You forgot to say 'please'." Xander told him. Dylan's head snapped around to look at him sternly.
"Don't toy with me boy."
"Dylan, are you sure that you actually know Angel?" Willow asked him. He nodded.
'No, who are you talking-' "-About?" Dylan screamed, gaining control over his body again.
"About what?" Giles inquired.
"Uh-" 'Nothing. Damn it!'
Dylan seemed to turn back to Buffy and demand, "Where does the bastard live?"
"Obviously, you're not very stable. So why don't I-" the Slayer started before the spirit slapped her hard like he'd done to Dylan's mother.
"You will take me to see Angelus, or I swear, the last thing you hear is the sound of me making your lungs collapse!" Dylan shot a hand out to catch the fist Giles had swung, and the watcher stood frozen to the spot. Along with Xander and Willow.
"W-what are you?"
"A friend." Dylan said, a fire burning in his eyes. Buffy stared at him for several seconds, looked to her frozen friends and nodded.
"Alright. How long will they be like that?"
"As long as you co-operate, they'll be unfrozen in five minutes. Let's go." He pushed Buffy out the door and down the hall, to the sunlit street and out towards the mansion.
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