"Two worlds collide. One Hellmouth rises. And in Hawkins, the monsters are just the beginning." - A Stranger Things/Buffy Crossover - A Steve Harrington Story

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a blood-red hue over the sprawling city of Los Angeles. The echoes of their latest battle still lingered in the cool evening air as Angel and Spike made their way through the deserted streets. The bodies of fallen vampires disintegrated into ash around them, but their attention was fixated on the lifeless form of a man sprawled in the alleyway.

His face, frozen in an expression of defiance, was a stark contrast to the ordinary victims they usually encountered. He wasn't just another casualty in the endless war between good and evil—he was something different, something worth investigating.

Angel knelt beside the man, his brow furrowed in thought as he rifled through the man's pockets. The night had been a blur of snarling fangs and flashing blades, but this discovery at the end of the skirmish promised to be far more dangerous. His fingers brushed against something crumpled, and he pulled out a worn piece of paper. The edges were frayed, stained with sweat and dirt, but the text was still legible. A hit list.

Spike, standing with his arms crossed and a bored expression masking his curiosity, peered over Angel's shoulder. "What've we got there, mate?"

Angel's eyes scanned the list, his jaw tightening as he reached the top name: Evelyn. There was something about the way it was written, bold and underlined, that set his nerves on edge. The address beside it was unfamiliar, but the note scrawled next to the name was unmistakable: "Mother of a Slayer—high priority."

Spike's nonchalant demeanor evaporated as he caught sight of the note. He whistled low, his eyebrows arching in surprise. "A Slayer's mum? Bloody hell. That's new."

Angel rose to his feet, folding the paper carefully and slipping it into his coat pocket. "This isn't just a hit list, Spike. It's a bounty list. And someone's willing to pay a lot of money to see this woman dead."

Spike's eyes gleamed with a mix of excitement and concern. "And I'm guessing we're not the only ones who've seen it. If some demon's got its claws on this list, there's no telling who might already be after her."

The thought of a Slayer's family being targeted struck a chord deep within Angel. Memories of Buffy and the sacrifices made by the people around her flooded his mind. He couldn't ignore this—not when the stakes were so personal.

"We need to find her," Angel said, determination hardening his voice. "If they're after her, they might be after others connected to the Slayers. We can't let this happen."

Spike grinned, the thrill of a new mission already coursing through him. "Then let's not waste time. Idaho, here we come."

The journey to Idaho was long and silent, the roar of the engine the only sound breaking the oppressive stillness between the two vampires. The farther they drove from the bustling chaos of LA, the more the landscape around them transformed. Concrete gave way to winding roads flanked by towering trees, their dense canopies blocking out the sky. The air grew colder, sharper, as they ventured deeper into the wilderness.

Angel kept his focus on the road, his mind running through possible scenarios. Who would want to kill the mother of a Slayer? And why now? With the recent reversal of Hell-LA, it seemed like every dark force in the world was jockeying for power, trying to fill the vacuum left by Wolfram & Hart's absence. This felt like a play in that larger game, but the pieces weren't adding up yet.

Spike, on the other hand, spent the time fiddling with the radio, flipping through stations with an air of impatience. "Bloody hell, nothing but country music and static," he muttered, finally turning it off in frustration. He glanced at Angel, noting the brooding expression etched on his face. "You're thinking too much, as usual."

Angel didn't reply, his gaze fixed ahead. The isolation of the countryside was almost palpable, the silence of the woods pressing in on them as they drew closer to their destination. The address on the hit list led them to a narrow dirt path, barely wide enough for their car. The road twisted and turned, taking them deeper into the wild, far from any sign of civilization.

When the cabin finally came into view, it was almost a relief—though not one that lasted long. The building was modest but sturdy, built to withstand the harshest elements. Iron bars covered the windows, and the perimeter was fortified with subtle traps, cleverly hidden but unmistakable to their keen eyes. Whoever lived here was prepared for trouble.

Before they could take another step, a sharp crack shattered the stillness. The bullet embedded itself in the ground inches from Angel's feet, the force of the shot reverberating through the air. Both vampires froze, their senses heightened, every instinct screaming that they were being watched.

From inside the cabin, a voice called out, strong and unwavering. "That was a warning. The next one won't miss. Turn around and leave."

Angel and Spike exchanged a glance. There was something in the voice—determination, fear, and above all, a fierce protectiveness. Whoever was inside wasn't just guarding a home; they were guarding something, or someone, far more precious.

Spike smirked, glancing at Angel with a mix of amusement and irritation. "Friendly sort, isn't she?"

"We're not here to hurt you," Angel called out, his voice calm and steady. He could feel the tension in the air, the sense of danger hovering just beyond sight. "We found something that led us here—a list with your name at the top, along with a note about your daughter. We just want to understand what's going on."

There was a moment of silence, followed by the faint sound of movement inside the cabin. Angel's sharp hearing caught the murmur of voices—one older, one much younger. He could tell the woman was talking to her daughter, likely reassuring her, but the words were too muffled to make out.

The front door creaked open slightly, revealing the silhouette of a woman standing in the doorway. She kept the rifle trained on the two vampires, her eyes fierce and unwavering. Her protective stance made it clear that she was ready to defend her child at all costs.

"You're vampires," she stated, her voice steady despite the tremor of fear that lay beneath it. "You expect me to believe that you came here out of concern for my daughter?"

Spike, ever observant, noticed the way Evelyn positioned herself—always slightly in front of the door, as if shielding the inside from view. His instincts told him that the real danger wasn't the woman before them but whoever or whatever she was protecting.

"How did you know what we are?" Spike asked, his tone curious rather than accusatory. There was an edge to his voice, but it was tempered with genuine interest. He wasn't just probing for information—he was piecing together a puzzle that was slowly revealing itself.

Evelyn's eyes darted away for a second, a fleeting moment of hesitation that didn't escape Spike's notice. "I've seen your kind before," she said, her voice tight with the memory of whatever horrors she had witnessed. "And I've killed your kind before."

Spike raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Have you now?" He took a step closer, his gaze locked on hers, reading the truth in her eyes. "Or is it your daughter who's done the killing?"

Evelyn's expression faltered, and in that brief moment, Spike knew he had struck the right chord. She wasn't the one with the power—her daughter was. "You can't protect her from everything," Spike continued, his voice softer but no less intense. "She's got strength, hasn't she? A certain talent for dealing with creatures like us?"

Angel, who had been quietly observing the exchange, stepped forward, his voice calm and reassuring. "Your daughter is special, Evelyn. We're not your enemies. If anything, we're here because we want to help. There's a lot at stake if someone is targeting you and your daughter. We've been fighting against these kinds of threats for a long time."

Evelyn's grip on the rifle tightened as she processed their words, her protective instincts warring with the fear that had been gnawing at her for years. She had known her daughter was different from the moment she was born, and she had done everything in her power to keep her safe. But the truth was, she couldn't do it alone—not anymore.

"Why should I trust you?" Evelyn's voice wavered slightly, but the steel in her gaze remained. "How do I know you're not just another threat?"

Angel met her eyes with unwavering sincerity. "Because we've been where you are—fighting to protect someone we care about, someone who's special. We're not asking for your trust right away, but we're offering you our help. If we wanted to hurt you, we wouldn't have warned you about the danger."

Evelyn hesitated, glancing back into the cabin where her daughter waited. She had fought so hard to keep her safe, but the weight of that burden was becoming too much to bear alone. Finally, with a reluctant sigh, she lowered the rifle, though she kept it close at hand.

"I don't have much choice, do I?" Evelyn said quietly, more to herself than to them. She looked up at Angel and Spike, determination hardening her features. "But if you so much as think about betraying us, I won't hesitate to end you."

"We wouldn't expect anything less," Spike replied with a wry grin. "Now, why don't you tell us what we're dealing with here?"

Evelyn nodded, stepping back, but notably didn't invite them inside. Spike caught the subtle refusal and let out a low chuckle, realizing that mummy bear had been doing her homework. She knew better than to extend an invitation to vampires. Angel and Spike exchanged a glance, then peered into the small house.

Inside, sitting on the worn couch, was a young girl with wide, cautious eyes. She was small, but there was an undeniable strength in her gaze, a quiet power that radiated from her even as she remained silent. This was the girl they had come to find—the one who had managed to survive against odds that would have destroyed most adults.

Before Angel or Spike could say anything, the girl raised her hand. In an instant, before either vampire could react, they were violently thrown from the house by an unseen force. They crashed onto the ground outside, hitting hard. Dazed but quickly recovering, both vampires realized what had just happened.

"What the bloody—" Spike began, but before he could finish, the girl was upon them.

She moved with the speed and strength of a Slayer, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. A wooden stake glinted in her hand, her eyes blazing with determination. Angel and Spike, though taken aback, quickly recognized that this girl was no ordinary Slayer. There was something about her—an aura of power that set her apart, even from the most formidable Slayers they'd encountered before.

Spike barely managed to dodge the girl's first strike, the stake whistling past his ear. Angel, caught off guard, blocked her second attempt just in time, the force of the blow driving him back several feet. The girl's power was immense, but it was clear she lacked experience. Her attacks were fueled by raw emotion, wild and unrefined.

Seeing an opportunity, Spike moved with lightning speed. He darted behind the girl, grabbing her and pinning her arms to her sides before she could react. She struggled fiercely, but Spike held her firm, his grip strong but not cruel.

"Easy there, love," Spike growled, his voice low and steady. "You've got the power, I'll give you that, but you're not going to win this one."

The girl thrashed in his grasp, her anger boiling over. Angel, recovering his footing, approached cautiously, hands raised in a gesture of peace. "We're not here to hurt you," he said, his voice calm despite the chaos. "We're here to help."

Before the situation could escalate further, Evelyn's panicked voice cut through the tension. "Sloane!" she shouted, her rifle once again aimed at the two vampires. "Let her go!"

Spike held Sloane for a moment longer, then reluctantly released her, stepping back with his hands raised to show he meant no harm. Sloane immediately whirled around, ready to strike again, but stopped when she saw the look on her mother's face—fear, not for herself, but for her daughter.

"We're not your enemies," Angel repeated, his tone earnest. "We know what you're capable of, Sloane. That's why we're here. We need to understand what's happening, and why someone would go to such lengths to find you."

Evelyn's eyes flicker with anger, but before she can respond, Spike bends the barrel of the rifle with a quick twist of his hand, rendering it useless. Evelyn's eyes widen in shock, and Sloane finally stops struggling, her surprise breaking through her anger.

"Now that's a neat trick," Spike says with a smirk, finally releasing Sloane and stepping back, hands up. "But we're on the same side, I promise."

Evelyn, still reeling from the display of strength, hesitated but then slowly lowered the now useless gun. She nodded, a mix of fear and resolve in her eyes, and led them to the house. After a moment's pause, she opened the door wide and invited them in.

Once inside, Evelyn looked to Sloane, giving her a silent command with a nod of her head. The blonde child, still radiating an aura of power, cast a wary glance at the two vampires before leaving the room.

Evelyn gestured to the few pieces of old, worn furniture for Angel and Spike to sit on, but she remained standing, her posture tense and defensive. Crossing her arms, she fixed them with a steely gaze. "All right," she said, her voice firm despite the uncertainty in her eyes. "You've got your chance to explain. Who are you, and why are you here?"

Angel took the lead, his tone calm and measured. "We're vampires, but not like the ones you've encountered before. My name's Angel, and this is Spike. We've both got a long history with girls like Sloane. She's a Slayer."

Evelyn's brow furrowed in confusion. "A Slayer? What does that mean?"

Spike, never one for subtlety, jumped in. "The Chosen One: a girl with superhuman strength, speed, and a destiny to fight the forces of darkness.

Evelyn latched onto one particular part of Spike's explanation, her voice tinged with both fear and curiosity. "The Chosen One? Is that Sloane?"

Spike shook his head, "Usually, there's just one. But a few months back, all the potential Slayers across the world were activated to stop a big bad. Sloane's one of them."

Angel continued, "That's why she's been hunted. It's why we came out here—to help."

Evelyn's eyes narrowed, suspicion still evident. "You expect me to believe that two vampires came all the way out here just to help me?"

"Believe it or not, we're not like the others," Spike interjected, his tone uncharacteristically serious. "We've both got our reasons for caring about Slayers. And if someone's put a bounty on your head, it's not just your problem—it's ours too."

Evelyn studied them both, her eyes flicking between the two men, searching for any sign of deceit. Finally, she sighed, lowering her arms as the weight of the situation pressed down on her. "It's been a long time since I trusted anyone. But if you're telling the truth... you need to understand something. Sloane is special. She's not like other Slayers."

Angel nodded, his expression thoughtful. "We can see that. But we need to know what we're dealing with."

Evelyn hesitated, the memories of the past flashing through her mind like a nightmare she couldn't escape. Her voice trembled slightly as she began to speak. "When I was younger, I was in a bad place financially. I needed money, and I signed up for a research project. I didn't know I was pregnant at the time. Dr. Brenner, the man who led the study, said it was to help make people better, but it wasn't. He was doing things—terrible things. Experimenting on people, trying to unlock powers that no one should have."

She paused, taking a shaky breath before continuing. "I found out I was pregnant with Sloane when she started sending me visions—visions of what would happen if we stayed. I saw the men coming for us, the pain they would cause, and the horrors that awaited her. I knew we had to run, so we did. We've been hiding ever since, trying to stay one step ahead of them."

Angel listened intently, the gravity of what Evelyn was saying clear on his face. "So Sloane's powers started even before she was born?"

Evelyn nodded, tears welling in her eyes as she recounted the terror she'd lived with for so long. "Yes. She's been different from the start. Stronger, more aware. Those visions saved us, but they also cursed us. We've been hunted ever since—by Brenner's men, by vampires, by things I can't even begin to explain."

Spike, always one to cut to the heart of the matter, leaned forward. "Sounds like Sloane's more than just a Slayer. Whatever Brenner did, he awakened something in her. Something powerful."

Evelyn's voice shook as she replied, "I just wanted to keep her safe. I never wanted any of this. But now... I don't know what to do anymore."

Angel's expression softened, a rare display of empathy from the often stoic vampire. "You've done everything you could, Evelyn. But this fight is bigger than you or Sloane. We can help you, but we need to know everything if we're going to protect her."

Evelyn wiped at her eyes, nodding. "I'll tell you whatever you need to know. Just... please, help me keep her safe."

Before anyone could say more, Sloane suddenly appeared in the doorway, her eyes fixed on the front door as if she could see through it. Her senses, honed by both her Slayer instincts and her psychic abilities, picked up on something that felt wrong—a disturbance in the air, a shift in the energy around them. Angel immediately went on alert, his body tensing as he caught the change in her demeanor.

"What is it?" Angel asked quietly, his eyes narrowing as he focused on Sloane.

Sloane didn't have time to respond before they all heard the sound of an approaching car. The gravel crunched under the tires, and Evelyn's face went pale as she murmured, "No one knows we're here."

Spike, always the impulsive one, moved toward the door, cracking his knuckles with a smirk. "Guess it's time for a little recon." He stepped outside, his swagger unshaken even in the face of potential danger.

The moment Spike cleared the doorway, a gunshot rang out, and Spike was thrown back by the impact, landing on the ground with a pained grunt. His hand immediately went to his chest, feeling the bullet hole that had ripped through his brand new leather jacket.

"Bloody hell! My jacket!" Spike groaned, more upset about the ruined coat than the wound.

"Spike!" Angel shouted, rushing out with Sloane hot on his heels despite Evelyn's cries. They dove behind Angel's car as more bullets sprayed the air, pinging off metal and kicking up dirt.

"Can you do what you did before?" Angel asked Sloane, his voice urgent but calm.

Sloane looked at him, determination flashing in her eyes, and nodded. Angel quickly peeked over the car's edge, then ducked down as another gunshot rang out, nearly taking him out. He pointed to the exact position of the shooter, his eyes locked on Sloane's.

She focused her energy, her telekinetic power gathering like a storm within her. With a sharp exhale, she released it, and the shooter was yanked from his cover, lifted high above the trees. The man let out a terrified scream as he was flung through the air, and then he crashed to the ground with a bone-shattering thud.

Angel listened carefully, hearing the man's labored breathing—he was still alive, but just barely. He also smelled blood, his senses attuned to the scent. He turned to Sloane and saw a trail of blood falling from her nose. Sloane wiped it away with her sleeve, obviously used to it, before moving quickly, emerging from their cover to approach the fallen shooter with Angel quickly following.

As they neared, Spike stumbled to his feet, clutching his wounded chest with a pained expression. "My jacket!" Spike exclaimed, his voice a mix of pain and indignation as he looked at the bullet hole in his leather coat. "That was brand new!"

Angel rolled his eyes but focused on the task at hand. He knelt down next to the dying man, his voice low and menacing. "Who sent you? Why are you here?"

The man gasped for breath, the life draining from him with each passing second. "The... the reward," he managed to choke out. "Ten million... more will come..."

Before Angel could press further, the man's body went limp, and he exhaled one final, rattling breath. Angel sighed, frustration evident in his posture.

"Well, that's just brilliant," Spike muttered, his mood only slightly lifted by Sloane's impressive display of power. "But hey, nice work, kid."

Angel, already turning back toward the cabin, knew they didn't have much time before more bounty hunters arrived.

Sloane, still catching her breath from the exertion, managed a faint smile at the praise. The adrenaline was fading, leaving her feeling the weight of what she had just done. She was strong—stronger than most—but even her abilities had limits, and the toll it took was evident in the way her shoulders slumped, her breathing labored.

Spike, ever perceptive despite his bravado, noticed the exhaustion in her eyes, the way she seemed to be holding herself together through sheer force of will. He winced as he felt the bullet lodged in his chest, the pain a sharp reminder of the danger they were all in.

Without a word, Sloane stepped closer, her eyes narrowing in concentration. Spike watched as she raised her hand, her fingers trembling slightly as she focused her power again. There was a moment of tension, a flicker of doubt in her gaze, but she pushed through it. The bullet began to move, slowly at first, then with more ease as her telekinesis took hold.

Spike's breath hitched as the bullet was gently pulled from his chest, the sensation a mix of relief and discomfort. When the small, bloodstained piece of metal finally dropped to the ground with a soft clink, Sloane let out a shuddering breath, her knees nearly buckling under her.

Spike quickly reached out, steadying her with a hand on her shoulder. "Easy now," he said, his voice softer than usual, laced with genuine concern. He could see how much effort it had taken her to do that, and despite her tough exterior, she was still just a kid—one who was carrying a burden far too heavy for someone her age.

Sloane looked up at him, trying to mask her exhaustion with a defiant tilt of her chin. "I'm fine," she insisted, though her voice was tinged with fatigue.

Spike gave her a small, crooked smile, recognizing the attitude—the same stubbornness he saw in himself. "You're tough, I'll give you that," he said, his tone almost admiring. "But don't go pushing yourself too hard. You're no good to anyone if you burn out."

She met his gaze, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and frustration. "I'm not weak," she replied, her voice firm but betraying a hint of vulnerability. "I can handle it."

"I know you're not weak," Spike agreed, his voice carrying an unusual note of sincerity. "But even the strongest need to take a breath now and then. You're not in this alone, you know."

Sloane hesitated, the exhaustion finally breaking through her tough façade. She sighed, nodding slightly. "I know. It's just... hard."

Spike nodded, understanding more than he let on. "Yeah, it is. But you're doing good, kid. Better than most could in your shoes." He paused, then added with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood. "But I'm still pissed about the jacket."

Angel reached Evelyn, who was still standing in the doorway, her face a mask of fear and determination.

"You and Sloane need to leave," Angel said urgently. "More are coming, and they won't stop until they get what they want. You can't stay here."

Evelyn shook her head, steel in her voice. "We've been running for too long. Sloane and I can take care of ourselves. We've survived this long, and we'll survive whatever comes next."

Angel's jaw tightened, his frustration evident. "This isn't just about survival anymore. These people know what Sloane is, and they won't stop. If you stay here, you're putting her in more danger."

Evelyn's eyes flashed with defiance, but before she could argue further, Spike stepped in, placing a hand on Angel's shoulder. "Easy, mate. We've done what we can. If they want to stay and fight, it's their choice."

Angel reluctantly nodded, understanding that he couldn't force them to leave. He turned to Sloane, who was still standing by Spike, the weight of the situation settling on her shoulders.

Spike looked at her for a moment, then shrugged off his leather jacket, despite the bullet hole, and draped it over her shoulders. "Take care of yourself, all right? That jacket's got some history now. Keep it safe."

Sloane looked up at Spike, her expression softening as she nodded. "I will. Thank you."

Angel and Spike exchanged one last glance with Evelyn and Sloane before turning to leave. As they walked back to their car, Spike gave a low whistle. "Tough kid, that one. She'll be all right."

As they drove away, Angel was quiet, deep in thought. Finally, he spoke. "We need to call Giles. Evelyn might not listen to us, but she might listen to him."

Spike nodded in agreement, a rare moment of seriousness crossing his features. "Yeah, Giles'll know what to do. This is bigger than just us now."

As they drive off into the distance, Sloane stood in the doorway, Spike's jacket draped over her small frame. She watched them leave, feeling a strange mix of emotions—relief, determination, and a flicker of something she was not used to feeling: hope.

Evelyn stepped beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

Sloane nodded, still watching the road. "Yeah. I kinda like those two."

Evelyn chuckled softly. "Yeah, they're not bad. For vampires."

With one last look at the road, Sloane turned back to the cabin, already thinking ahead to whatever came next. She was confident, maybe even a little cocky, but underneath it all, she knew she was in for the fight of her life. And she wouldn't have it any other way.