Drusilla held the bottle to her chest, at heart level, and closed her eyes to wait for death. Abigail reached out a hand in a futile attempt to save her while Martha covered her mouth, blocking out her whispered, "Oh dear." They stood silently in a frozen tableau until Drusilla realized the drink hadn't killed her. She hung her head. When she opened her eyes, she found herself staring at the crystal bottle, which she very much wanted to shatter but, realizing it would hurt the sisters if she did, she put the stopper back in and carefully returned the bottle to the shelf.

Martha slowly walked over and put her fingers on Drusilla's wrist. She glanced at Abigail once before asking Drusilla if she knew she didn't have a pulse.

Drusilla, finally convinced these weren't her sisters and this wasn't Hades, stared bleakly at nothing.

"Why, you've been dead all along, haven't you?" Abigail asked. "How unusual."

Crying, Drusilla dropped to the floor. Martha crouched down beside her and, patting her shoulder, said, "There, there. I'm sure it's not so bad."

"Am I to have nothing then? Only maggots worming their way through my soul?"

"I'm sorry we can't give you your family back," Abigail said. Martha pulled Abigail off to the side. They were whispering quietly but Drusilla could have heard them if she'd wanted to. Instead she shut out the world, allowing cold tears to drip down onto the arms she'd wrapped around herself until the sisters came back to her. Abigail held out the blond doll tentatively, saying, "You could have Miss Edith. Obviously she can't replace your lost sisters but maybe she could stand in as a remembrance."

"Miss Edith?" Drusilla asked, looking up at the sisters through tear blind eyes.

"It was my favorite name when I was a girl," Abigail answered.

"I," Drusilla stood up and gave a graceful bow to the sisters. "I thank you," she said, taking Miss Edith in her arms. "You don't mind?" she added, crooning over the doll.

"Oh no dear, we don't mind. She was already in the donation box for charity," Martha replied.

"I should get her home where she'll be safe and sound." Smiling happily at the sisters, she added, "This is very, very clever of you. Angelus will never recognize my sisters in this form. They'll be quite safe."

"That's nice, dear," Abigail answered after sharing a confused look with Martha.

Unseen, two ghosts shimmered in next to Drusilla. Emma, who'd been the youngest of the three sisters, reached out to caress Dru's cheek but, when her hand went through Dru's face, Emma startled and jumped away. Abby, Dru's eldest sister, looked at her with an expression of pity. She spoke but Drusilla didn't hear. "Sister, I'd save you if I could."

"Now young lady, you listen to me. There's no need to go traipsing through the river just to get back to Manhattan," Martha said. "If you walk about a dozen blocks that way," she pointed behind Drusilla, "and then turn left, you'll come to a bridge that will take you back to the City."

"But, Miss Edith," Drusilla cried. "She'll be naughty and look back and then she'll be stuck in Hades forever."

The two ghosts looked at each other and a tear rolled down Emma's cheek. "Can't we help her?" she asked her elder sister.

"But, dear, this isn't Hades," Abigail replied.

Wrapping her arms around Emma, Abby replied, "No. You know that the truly dead cannot meddle in the affairs of the living."

"No, I know she'll be lost to me forever and ever and ever," Drusilla cried out.

"But her companions, they have to see she's wounded," Emma exclaimed.

"Well, how about this?" Martha asked, opening the box she'd laid on the table earlier. "We'll wrap some of this gauze around her eyes and then she won't be able to look back. Will that work, do you think?"

"They don't care enough," Abby said. At her sister's exasperated look, she added, "Certainly Master Spike cares but she was wounded before he'd met her. He'll never think of curing her and Angel, with his human soul back in place, is too busy running from his past misdeeds to consider fixing them."

"Oh yes," Drusilla smiled gratefully. "That's just the thing. Thank you so much," she added Martha wrapped a blindfold around the doll's eyes.

"She'll have to help herself," Abby added.

"But she's mad. Can she?" Emma asked.

While Abigail and Martha escorted Drusilla to the door, Abby started down at the floor for a long moment before whispering, "I fear not." Then, seeing how the words had hurt her sister, she added, "Perhaps. If she follows the advice she received here, this evening, from the Brewster sisters, then perhaps she can find redemption."

Emma, her face full of hope, said, "Let's catch up with her." Putting on an expression of hope that she didn't feel, Abby nodded in return and they slipped through the walls of the house to follow Drusilla down past the cemetery.

Drusilla cradled Miss Edith in her arms and crooned a lullaby as she walked along the dark streets. The residential streets had given way to businesses, most of which were closed by that hour, when the parade, Dru cradling Miss Edith followed by the phantasms of her sisters, was suddenly stopped. A group of three young men stood off to the side, by a doorway, while another, blocking Drusilla's path, removed his hat and bowed down before her. "Well met by moonlight, my lady fair. Wither doest thou goest this enchanted eve?"

Two of the young men snickered at the remark while the third rolled his eyes, saying, "And what kind of English is that supposed to be?"

"Poetical," the first youth exclaimed, raising his arms and staggering backwards before catching his balance. "One should always speak poetically with a charming lady." Turning back towards Drusilla, he added, "My dear, it's late. Please, allow me to escort you home."

Drusilla, feeling the weight of her resolution to do better in the future, was ready to accept his escort when one of the youths who had snickered earlier approached her and made a mock bow. "Oh no, let me," he said as he snatched Miss Edith out of Drusilla's arms.

The ghosts, unseen by all, even Drusilla, glanced at each other before turning back to see what would happen. Drusilla's resolution slipped from her mind as two of the young men tossed Miss Edith between them in a game of keep away.

"Go long," one shouted as the other ran out into the street. As he readied for the throw, Drusilla raced over and, as she grabbed Miss Edith from him, broke his wrist. Eighty years before, Angelus had broken Emma's foot; now it broke again with a loud snap that Drusilla heard but, in her rage at the young men, ignored. As she cradled Miss Edith in one arm, Drusilla grabbed the youth with her other hand, raised him off the ground, and snapped his neck with a flick of her wrist. A sharp cut appeared on Abby's torso and then another, flaying off skin that she'd lost before she'd died.

As the young man who'd run out into the street caught a look at Drusilla's vamped out face, he bolted away while the fourth youth, the only one who was still fairly sober, grabbed at her arm, trying to save his friend. Dropping the dead man, Drusilla sank her fangs into his throat and drank deeply. Where Angelus had raked his fingernails across her, three slashes appeared crosswise on Abby's face, blinding her left eye.

"I say," the youth who'd first addressed Drusilla said. "This all seems rather much." Drusilla turned towards him. At her vampire visage and blood stained lips, he paled as he stumbled backwards.

Slipping back into her human form, Drusilla delicately licked the blood off her lips and told him, "You should run now." As he stumbled down the street, calling out for help, Drusilla casually strolled after. "Ah ah ah," she said, appearing before him just as he was about to make the main drag. He stumbled away from her and into an alleyway, desperately trying doors. As Drusilla stepped out of the shadows, cutting him, tripping him, and shoving him against the brick buildings, Emma's fingers, that Angelus had bitten off and sipped from, fell from her hand, vanishing before they could hit the ground.

At the end of the alleyway, the young man cowered against a metal fence. Drusilla, drinking in the scent of his fear but tiring of his screams, shifted back into vamp face, roughly shoved her lips against his, and bit off his tongue. Letting it drop to the ground, she waved her fingers before his eyes, making jabbing motions until he caught her meaning. As she poked out his eyeballs, he fell to the ground. Licking off her fingers, she told him, "You're no fun anymore."

Her two sisters, bruised, cut, and broken by the tortures that had killed them, held each other, far to gone in their own pain to notice Dru as she carefully checked the gauze around Miss Edith's eyes. "Good, you won't be able to look back and be stuck in Hades," she told the doll. As the ghosts of her sisters faded away, Drusilla rocked Miss Edith in her arms saying, "I need to get you home and introduce you to Spike. I'm sure he'll be quite pleased to make you acquaintance and we will have tea and cakes and be a proper family again."