Title: Right In Front Of You

Author: Boo

Disclaimers: These are Joss Whedon’s toys, we only play with them when he’s not looking.

Rated: R

Spoilers: Takes place the morning after the S6 episode Wrecked so anything up to that is fair game.

Feedback: Feedback is my antidrug. Swanrvr80@aol.com.

Distribution: See, want, take - just tell me.

PART FIVE

“Buffy, you going to get that?” yelled Dawn, looking up from her magazine. Then she heard the water running and knew that Buffy was in the shower. With a sigh she got up to answer the door.

“Oh. Hi, Amy."

“Hi. Um, is Willow here?” asked Amy, trying to look past Dawn.

“No. In fact she’s out looking for you,” replied Dawn.

“Oh, she found me. I just thought she’d be back by now."

“So you’re going to help? You’re going to do the spell?” asked Dawn excitedly.

“Maybe. That’s up to Willow to decide,” shrugged Amy.

“Huh?"

“Maybe I should just leave her a note,” suggested Amy.

“Sure. Come on in,” said Dawn. “There’s some paper on the kitchen counter."

Amy walked into the kitchen and found the notepad but had trouble finding a pencil.

“Oh, there’s probably something to write with in that drawer,” pointed Dawn.

“That’s okay. It’s more fun this way,” smiled Amy. She closed her eyes for a moment, then smiled again and waved her hand over the paper, tossing it back onto the kitchen counter.

“Neat!” smiled Dawn.

“It is, isn’t it? You should ask Willow to teach you. Who knows? Maybe you can be like her. Thanks,” nodded Amy, turning to go.

“Um, you sure you don’t want to stay and wait for her?” asked Dawn.

“No. I’ve said what I wanted to say. I’ll be at the Bronze if Willow wants to find me,” shrugged Amy as if she didn’t care. Without saying goodbye, she turned and left.

“Bye,” frowned Dawn, picking up the notepad to read it.

“Willow - I’ll be at the Bronze. The party starts at ten o’clock. We both have a gift that very few people possess. Why deny what is yours? It’s what you are. Amy”

Dawn dropped the note back onto the counter, wiping her hand on her pants without even realizing it. She suddenly didn’t like the idea of being like Willow. Shaking her hair, she began to pull it back over her shoulder but paused as she touched her right ear, noticing that her earring was missing. Dawn felt her other ear to see if she had forgotten to put them on but her left ear had the earring.

“Oh, great! I knew I should’ve snuck them back before Anya noticed they were missing!"

Dawn knelt down, scanning the floor but didn’t see the missing earring. She heard Buffy coming down the stairs and quickly stood up.

“Hey,” smiled Dawn.

“Hey yourself. Watcha doin’?” asked Buffy.

“Nothing,” shrugged Dawn. “Just like yesterday, just like tomorrow. Can I come with you on patrol tonight? Just for a while? Please?"

“No. I don’t care how bored you get. It’s too dangerous,” scolded Buffy.

“It’s not like any vampire would notice me,” complained Dawn. “I’m sure I’d blend right in with the background. I mean, who’s going to notice me with big sister and her super powers around?"

“You want to get noticed? Go steal a car."

“Okay,” smiled Dawn excitedly.

“I’m joking! And where’s Willow? She missed pizza. Xander and Anya already went home,” said Buffy.

“Oh, Amy stopped by, left Willow a note. Said she’d be at the Bronze. Want me to call Tara? Xander dropped her off to pick up a few things. She’s spending the night,” added Dawn happily.

“Who doesn’t? I should start renting out rooms. No, don’t call. I’m sure Tara and Willow will show up soon. I’m going to make a quick pass by the cemetery but I’ll be back early. That way I can be back in time if they want to start Faith’s counterspell. Not that they need me for anything,” shrugged Buffy. “Still, I want to be here."

“Okay. I’ll be in my room. I, uh, I have to look for something,” said Dawn, running for the stairs.

Buffy took a step and noticed a small pizza crust on the kitchen floor.

“We need a maid,” sighed Buffy, leaning down to pick it up. Her cross swung outwards from her neck and she caught it with her left hand. She stared at it and absently walked over to the sink, dropping the crust in. Hesitating, she rubbed the cross between two fingers and then let go of it. Bringing her hands up behind her neck, she paused but then undid the clasp, placing the silver cross on the windowsill above the sink.

There was a knock at the door. Buffy took a step towards the door but stopped, turning to grab the cross and hide it in a drawer.

“Tara!” exclaimed Buffy, opening the front door. “I didn’t think it was you, what with the knocking and, well, just the knocking I guess."

“Oh. It’s just...I mean, it’s not my house. I don’t live here,” frowned Tara uncomfortably.

“I wish you would,” smiled Buffy, nodding.

Tara smiled from ear to ear, touched by her words.

“So, are you a vampire? Do I have to invite you in?” hinted Buffy.

“Thanks,” answered Tara, still smiling. She slipped a backpack off her shoulder and into her hand. “Is Willow back yet?"

“No. I was hoping she was with you. Amy stopped by and left a note for her, though. It’s in the kitchen."

Buffy led her into the kitchen but turned when she realized that Tara wasn’t following her. She was just standing there, staring at something behind Buffy. Buffy looked over her shoulder but didn’t notice anything out of place.

“Tara? What’s wrong?"

Tara looked like she was going to throw up.

“Tara?"

“I, I left a magic marker here,” gulped Tara, closing her eyes, her breath short and shallow.

“Um, hey. That’s no problem. I’m sure we have a few lying around. What color do you need?” asked Buffy, still not sure what was wrong.

“No, not a magic marker. A marker of magic. That plant,” pointed Tara at a withered cactus near the sink. Buffy turned to look.

“Yeah. Little too late to water that one,” smirked Buffy, though she was beginning to understand.

“If someone cast a spell in your house, well...,” shrugged Tara. “Don’t you see? She lied to me. Again."

Buffy’s shoulders slumped and she looked at Tara; the pain she saw mirrored the way felt.

“Tara..."

“I, I have to..."

Tears in her eyes, Tara ran from the room.

“Tara, wait!"

The front door slammed shut and Buffy threw her hands up in the air with a sigh. She walked back to the sink, staring at the dead cactus with a menacing glare. Her eyes drifted to the note and she read it, twice, shaking her head.

“Yeah, you got a gift alright, girl,” sighed Buffy. “And she just left."

Buffy ran a hand over her face and walked over to the back door, staring out into the dark, not even noticing that it had begun to drizzle. The front door opened and Buffy saw Willow’s reflection on the glass. She quickly strode over to stand in front of her, crossing her arms and blocking Willow from going upstairs.

“Where have you been?” demanded Buffy.

“Out,” replied Willow absently, her hands in her pockets. She didn’t seem to notice that Buffy was looking at her. “Walking. Thinking."

Buffy didn’t answer and soon Willow looked up, confused.

“What’s with the huffing and the puffing?” sighed Willow, not really interested.

“You really blew it this time, Will. Why? I just don’t get it!"

“Um...huh?"

“You did a spell after you told Tara you wouldn’t. And she knows. Will, she found out,” winced Buffy.

“I did not!” replied Willow indignantly.

“But...the plant. It died,” said Buffy, pointing to the cactus.

“Again I have to go with the huh? Buffy, what..."

“Tara told me that she left a magic marker here. I mean a marker of..."

“I know what one is, Buffy. But I swear to you, I didn’t do a spell,” insisted Willow. “My promise was to her and to you."

“Amy! Amy was here. She, she left you a note. She must’ve done a spell,” said Buffy, running into the kitchen to show Willow the note. Willow read it and slowly shook her head.

“Amy won’t help me unless I bring her back to Rack. And I won’t do that. She must’ve written this with a spell. Hence the deadness,” shrugged Willow, nodding at the cactus.

“She didn’t trust me,” said Willow, closing her eyes.

“Willow..."

“Don’t Willow me! She’s right. She shouldn’t trust me. I mean, I haven’t given her a reason to, have I?"

“Only because Tara thinks you did the spell. And you didn’t. And...and you seem awfully calm about that,” commented Buffy.

“Sorry. My despair is kinda overwhelming my panic at the moment. I’m trying to remain calm without the required screaming, pulling out my hair and gnashing of teeth,” sighed Willow.

“Call her. Leave a message. If she doesn’t answer go over to her place. I’ll swing by the Bronze on my way out, see if she’s there. Tara didn’t leave too long ago. Maybe I can catch her."

Buffy took three steps towards the door then stopped.

“Will, you going to be alright?"

“Guess we’ll find out soon enough. Go. I need to bring Faith up to speed before I head out,” frowned Willow.

“Good luck."

*****

Willow stood there for a moment, then knocked, even though the door was open.

“Come on in, Willow,” called Faith. She was sitting on the edge of her bed.

“How did you know it was me?"

“I just did,” smiled Faith. “Okay, I recognized the shampoo you use in your hair. I like it."

“Oh,” said Willow, impressed, as she sat down on the bed next to her.

“Are you bringing me good news?” asked Faith.

“Um..."

“Oh. So it’s not so good news? Or...so not good news?” frowned Faith.

“Amy won’t help me. Well, she will, but for a price I’m not willing to pay. And Tara tells me that I can do the spell, that magic done with a pure intent, for instance to heal someone...well, it shouldn’t affect me,” sighed Willow. “Or, more importantly, her."

“Shouldn’t,” nodded Faith. “But you’re, what? Afraid to try?"

“I don’t know. If Tara’s wrong, I could be hurting her. Hurting us,” added Willow.

“Oh,” whispered Faith, that one word heavy in the air between them, a pronouncement. It was Faith admitting that she had given up hope.

“Faith,” began Willow.

“Willow,” said Faith at the same time.

Faith laughed.

“Me first, okay?” said Faith. “What is Tara afraid of?"

“Me,” sighed Willow.

“Huh?"

“You know what happened to her, with Glory,” said Willow, rubbing her hands together.

“Yeah."

“Well, I did a spell. We had some stupid fight and I messed with her memory. I, I just wanted her not to be mad at me,” winced Willow.

“But she found out,” nodded Faith.

“Yeah. So besides me giving her no reason to trust me...my spells are affecting her. Making her remember...stuff. Too much messing with the mind, it’s not good,” grimaced Willow, shaking a hand in the air.

“I hear ya,” said Faith, reaching out a hand. Willow took it. “You don’t owe me, Willow. I can’t ask you to..."

“Let me sleep on it. If I can get any sleep. I have to go find Tara. She thinks I did another spell after I promised that I wouldn’t,” said Willow, standing up.

“Did you?"

“No!” answered Willow sharply.

Faith looked away, sorry she had asked.

“No,” repeated Willow, softly. She stood there, watching Faith.

“What?” asked Faith.

“Faith, there’s one more thing. Buffy, she...she’s really messed up right now. We just have to give her some time. What I’m trying to say is that right now, she might not be able to say what you need to hear. Not yet."

“You should know."

“What?"

“Just because I’m blind doesn’t mean I can’t see. I pick up on things. Things other people might miss...might choose to overlook."

Willow didn’t answer her.

“Why haven’t you two sat down and talked about what happened to her? She’s your best friend, right? And don’t try to tell me that Xander is,” protested Faith.

“Faith, when she’s ready..."

“What if she’s never ready? You have to talk now, while you have the chance. Before it comes between you. It won’t get any easier,” promised Faith.

Willow looked at her and knew. She knew what Faith meant.

“About B and me...already figured that one out,” smiled Faith. “All the time in the world won’t help. I can’t forgive myself, so why should she...well, you know."

“You’re being a little hard on yourself, aren’t you?"

“I held a knife to your throat, Red. You telling me you forgot that?” asked Faith quickly, though her voice held no anger, no threat.

“No. It just seems like a lifetime ago,” admitted Willow.

“It was,” sighed Faith.

*****

“Glad I didn’t wash my hair,” scowled Buffy, looking up at the heavy mist. It wasn’t a soaking rain but it was enough to frazzle her hair and muffle her footsteps as she walked through the silent graveyard.

“Might as well call it a night. What self-respecting vampire doesn’t know enough to get out of the rain?” said Buffy, her breath puffing up white before her in the cold air.

A growl behind her stopped Buffy in mid-stride, her shoulders sagging.

“I knew it! Never use respect and vampire in the same sentence,” sighed Buffy as she turned around. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you..."

Buffy was silenced with a hard punch to her jaw. Her head snapped back but she didn’t even flinch.

“Now that’s just rude. I didn’t even get a chance to finish punning, lame as it was."

The vampire, a young male even shorter than herself, swung again, angered that his first blow had been so easily ignored. The Slayer caught his fist in her hand, held it firmly and began to squeeze...and began to smile. A heartbeat or two later and the vampire screamed just before his knuckles collapsed with a loud crack. Buffy squeezed tighter, her smile easing into a snarl. The vampire punched her in the face with his free hand. She only stared back, eyes narrowed in hatred.

He punched her again. And again. Buffy squeezed harder, blood oozing between her fingers. His blood. He kneed her in the stomach and she lashed out with the back of her hand across his jaw. Driving him down on one knee, the creature screamed again. Desperation driven by excruciating pain made him bite at her forearm. Buffy let go and pulled her arm back but not before his fangs tore a gash just above her wrist.

The vampire rose to his feet but wasn’t quick enough. Buffy’s swirled with a spin kick, her foot connecting and sending him down against a tombstone, knocking it over and cracking it in several places. She dove, pinning his arms down with her knees and grabbed a piece of the shattered stone, smashing it into his face. The vampire lay still, unconscious.

Buffy didn’t care.

She drove the stone down again, harder this time. Again, blood splattering against her face and blouse. Again, his skull being crushed into a messy pulp. Again, this time using both hands, the impact sounding like wet mud.

“Buffy!"

Again, tears forming in her eyes, not understanding why she wasn’t disgusted by what was happening, why she wasn’t overcome by a need to vomit, why she wasn’t engulfed in hatred for this thing beneath her...why she wasn’t feeling anything at all.

“Buffy!"

Buffy didn’t hear her name being shouted. She raised her hands above her head again...and was knocked off her victim, landing hard on her shoulder and neck. She looked up, mud and water and blood dripping from the side of her face, just as the vampire exploded into ash. Spike knelt beside her, wide-eyed and gripping a stake tightly in his hand. He threw it aside in disgust.

“Slayer! What the hell was that about?"

Buffy raised her hands in front of her face, watching as the rain washed the blood away like a watercolor.

“Buffy. What happened?” asked Spike, compassion softening his tone.

Buffy stood, unsteady on her feet, still staring at her hand as she slowly clenched her fingers into a fist. Looking up at her from his knees, Spike begged for an answer but didn’t utter a word.

“What am I?” hissed Buffy, her mouth contorted with contempt. Her eyes now focused on Spike as he slowly rose to his feet.

“I know. I’m a Slayer,” spat Buffy.

“I was going to go with a frightened young woman."

Buffy smiled and stepped close to him, tilting her head slightly to one side. Spike hesitated, unsure of the invitation. But Buffy didn’t. Her mouth met his and she slipped a hand behind his head, pulling him to her. Their kiss deepened, became frantic, Spike’s desire fueled by Buffy’s moaning. She broke off the embrace, gasping for breath.

“Are you giving in to...this?” asked Spike vaguely.

“No. I’m seeking it out."

She moved swiftly, seemingly even more so as Spike never expected it. The back of her hand was a blur, splitting his lip. Spike reacted, fiercely grabbing her shoulders...but Buffy didn’t move. He blinked, tilting his head in wonder. Buffy tenderly reached up and touched his lip with a finger. And now Spike didn’t move. She turned her hand over, staring at the smeared blood.

“If I drink from you, will I...will I be turned?” she asked in a whisper.

“Of course not! You have to be close to death,” laughed Spike.

“I’m standing kinda close right now,” smiled Buffy, batting her eyes at him. She reached for him again, brushing her fingers along his cold cheek. This time he moved closer and their kiss was gentle, lips barely touching, exploring. Spike hesitated, feeling more than rain on his skin. He pulled back, shocked to see tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I’m having sex with a corpse. But you know what’s even more disgusting?” swallowed Buffy, not looking up at him, her whisper almost lost in the mist between them. “So are you."

“Buffy, when we make love..."

“We don’t make love! We had sex! Love had nothing to do with it!” screamed Buffy, trying weakly to push him away. The rain plastered her hair to the sides of her face. He pushed it away. She let him.

“Why don’t you change?"

“What?” replied Spike, lowering his hand.

“Your face! I hit you, punish you, hell I beat you down! When I’m on my back...under you,” grimaced Buffy, “why don’t you show me what you really are?"

There’s no chance of that happening,” answered Spike, disappointed that she didn’t understand.

Buffy squinted at him, listening to his body language more than his words. He wasn’t lying. He took one of her hands into both of his.

“Feel this. I love you. The warmth of your body...it does more to me than you could possibly know. Because you’re not dead. Buffy, when I’m with you...it makes my body remember what it was like, being alive...being human. The demon within can’t touch me then. It doesn’t understand, never having experienced life."

Buffy threw her head back and laughed cruelly. Wincing, Spike let go of her hand.

“Feel this, Spike,” said Buffy, holding up her palm. “This rain could be snow and it couldn’t feel as cold as I do inside. The cold of your body against mine, the sweat as my skin embraces yours...I feel the dampness of my grave all over again! Your kiss tastes of ash. I lash out, punching, hitting, biting...until I lose myself, and for a little while I can forget, as the cold within me matches your own."

Spike looked away, visibly shaken.

“I hide there, Spike. In that cold. Only the heat of our sex makes me feel again. But it’s not real! It doesn’t last...we both want to be alive, and we’re not,” cringed Buffy, shivering.

Spike slowly raised his eyes, unsmiling.

“You want me, Spike?” whispered Buffy. “I’ll give you this body. Freely, without hesitation, no holding back. But you have to do something for me."

“Name it,” whispered Spike.

Buffy undid the buttons on her blouse and tugged it free from her pants. She eased one shoulder free and pulled her hair back, offering her neck. Spike’s eyes opened wide.

“Claim me with your mark. Don’t fight what you are. Taste me,” pleaded Buffy, stepping to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Spike stared at her throat, aroused by the blood within.

“I can’t tell the others...but I want them to know. Mark me as the whore that I am,” begged Buffy, her hands trembling. Spike touched her cheek, wiping away a tear.

“Do it,” whispered Buffy, her lower lip quivering, her breath hanging white in the air as she waited. “Just...do it."

Spike lowered his hand and placed it just above her left breast. She inhaled sharply and not only from his cold touch. Her heart pounded beneath his touch. Buffy tried not to look at him but couldn’t help herself, running her tongue over her lips.

“I’ve already marked you, Slayer. You can’t see it, just like I can’t see my reflection in a mirror. But I know I’m there,” said Spike, kissing the top of her forehead. Buffy hesitated, then brought her arms up, ripping his shirt open. He placed his hands on her hips and a cry escaped her. She closed her eyes and rubbed her wet cheek against his chest. Spike shook free of his shirt.

Buffy instantly stood on her toes and kissed him, tugging on his lower lip. She was no longer crying. Stepping back, she let her blouse slip off her shoulders onto the ground. Spike moved his thumbs under her bra, his body tense, waiting for her to punch him. But she didn’t move. He pushed upwards, exposing her breasts, his rough hands like sandpaper on her sensitive skin. Buffy moved to place her arms on his shoulders and Spike flinched, misreading her intentions, causing her to smile.

She looked down and raised her eyebrows.

“Seems like Willow and I have something in common,” said Buffy, her voice raspy.

“Oh? What might that be?” grinned Spike.

“We can both raise the dead."

Spike smiled, running his hands down her sides to her waist, tugging at the top of her pants. Buffy bit her lower lip hard, drawing blood, and moved her hips forward, encouraging him. He undid the button and lowered the zipper...Buffy wriggled free, her pants dropping to the ground. Stepping out of them, she kissed him again, keeping her eyes open. Spike stared back, fascinated, drawn in. He licked his lips, moaning, amazed that she wanted him to taste her blood, reeling from the sensation.

He fumbled with his own pants, finally freeing himself.

Buffy could see her reflection in his pupils and suddenly didn’t feel as cold. And then she knew why. She had a soul...and Spike would never see his own reflection in her. She leaned back and Spike held her, lowering her onto the cold, wet ground, her eyes never leaving his. But Buffy didn’t feel the cold beneath her. And as she waited for him, his pupils clouded over, her own image changing...until Buffy stared into two naked skulls grinning back at her.

There, among the tombstones, the Slayer closed her eyes, retreating to the cold within, surrendering to it.

And Spike remembered.

*****

“Thanks,” nodded Faith, taking the glass from Dawn. Dawn tried not to laugh as she put the container back into the refrigerator but Faith heard her.

“Hey, don’t laugh. I’m finding that I like the taste of milk,” protested Faith.

“Whatever,” shrugged Dawn. “It just doesn’t fit the image of a vampire Slayer."

“I should drink their blood before I kill them?” asked Faith sarcastically.

“You know what I mean,” said Dawn, opening a drawer.

“And what are you looking for? I heard you rustling around in your room for like twenty minutes."

“I lost an earring. I know it fell out somewhere,” sighed Dawn.

“And you think it might be in one of the kitchen drawers?” laughed Faith.

“I put the silverware away before. I just thought...oh, forget it. It’s not that important anyway."

“Want me to help you look for it?” smiled Faith, taking a sip of milk. Dawn got angry but then had to laugh.

“You know what?” said Dawn, opening another drawer and taking out a flashlight. “I went out to get the mail today. I’ll be right back,” said Dawn, running for the front door.

“Dawn, it’s raining out!"

“I’ll just be a minute. I have a flashlight!"

The front door shut and suddenly the house was quiet. Faith took another sip of milk, listening to the rain against the window. The clock in living room began to chime. The rain...somehow this seemed familiar.

And suddenly Faith couldn’t breathe. Each chime of the clock seemed to match her own heartbeat. It was as if she could see, but she was back in Boston, in her old house. And the clock was chiming ten. The glass fell from her hand, shattering on the kitchen floor. Faith never heard it. Later, thinking back, she would regret that she didn’t.

“Dawn,” whispered Faith.

She turned and bumped into the kitchen table, stumbling over a chair and knocking it sideways on the floor. Faith crawled on her hands and knees for a moment then scrambled to her feet.

“Dawn!” she screamed, reaching blindly for the wall. She found the stairs, turned and dove for the front door, frantically searching for the handle.

“Dawn!"

Faith gripped the handle and pulled but the door stuck, only opening because the frame splintered near the lock. She stumbled outside, lost her balance and fell to her knees.

“Dawn!” screamed Faith, beginning to panic.

“Faith, I’m right here."

Faith jumped to her feet and ran in the direction of her voice.

“Keep talking! I need to hear your voice to find you!"

“I’m right here, on the sidewalk,” called Dawn. Faith ran towards her.

“Faith!” warned Dawn as she approached, but she had to tackle the Slayer as she crashed into her. Faith managed to stay on her feet, holding Dawn up.

“We’re not in the street, are we? Dawn, are we...”

Faith ignored her and laughed, gripping Dawn in a bear hug.

“Faith...having a problem with the breathing thing,” gasped Dawn.

“Oh. Sorry,” smiled Faith, letting her go. But Faith had lost her sunglasses and Dawn could see that she was crying.

“Faith, what’s wrong?"

“Nothing. You just scared the hell out of me, that’s all,” ginned Faith, wiping her eyes. “Let’s get inside."

But Dawn didn’t answer.

“Dawn?"

Dawn didn’t have to answer. Faith could sense it. She didn’t need to see. The Slayer spun around, listening.

“Dawn, stay behind me! Where is it? I need you to be my eyes,” said Faith calmly, though her heart was racing. She crouched into a fighting stance.

“About ten feet in front of us,” whispered Dawn.

“Don’t whisper. Talk! It can hear you anyway,” scolded Faith.

“Faith...duck!"

Faith pulled her neck in but the vampire’s fist glanced off her forehead. She lashed out with a fist and connected with a shoulder, getting an angry growl in response.

“Dawn, find a piece of wood, a stick, anything! Oomph!” grunted Faith, taking a punch in the stomach. She doubled over and tried to hang on but the vampire broke free.

Faith spread out her arms, trying not to breathe so she could hear its movement. A footstep in the wet grass to her left. And another. She swung but missed. The vampire didn’t, using both hands clenched together as a weapon, smashing into Faith’s cheek. She fell to one knee and slipped on the grass as she tried to get back up. The vampire tackled her onto her back. She could smell its fetid breath near her neck.

The Slayer rolled and managed to keep the creature pinned under her. But then two hands were on her throat, viciously squeezing. Faith couldn’t breath. She tried to pry free of its grip but her fingers kept slipping on its wet skin.

“Faith, roll over!” yelled Dawn.

Faith leaned to her right, then pulled left and wound up on her back with the vampire still holding on, crushing her throat. A moment later came that distinct sound of exploding ash. Dawn had staked it through the back with a splinter from the door.

“Yes! My first kill!” chirped Dawn excitedly.

Faith moaned and rolled over onto her side, holding her stomach.

“Faith? Faith, what’s wrong?"

Faith only moaned louder, her face contorted in pain.

“He didn’t hit you that hard. Faith...Faith, I’ll, I’ll go find Buffy!"

“No!” yelled Faith through clenched teeth, wincing in pain. “Call an ambulance."

Dawn stood there, frozen.

“Dawn!"

“Okay. Okay, I, I’ll be right back. Just..."

Dawn ran into the house.

*****

Buffy looked up, just realizing that she was almost home, but she didn’t walk any faster, suddenly uneasy about going back. Then she saw Willow walking towards her. And by the look on her face, she hadn’t found Tara. They met in front of Buffy’s driveway, glancing at one another.

“You get any?” asked Willow.

Buffy raised her eyebrows.

“Vampires,” clarified Willow, eyeing Buffy with an odd expression.

“Oh. Right. One. It was...it was an uneventful night. No Tara?” sighed Buffy.

Willow shook her head forlornly. And then Dawn came running out of the house.

“Where the hell have you two been!?” screamed Dawn.

“Dawn, what..."

“They wouldn’t let me ride in the ambulance!” shouted Dawn, ignoring Buffy. “Xander’s on his way over here now to pick me up."

Buffy grabbed Dawn firmly by the arms, forcing her sister to look at her. Dawn pulled free, angry.

“What ambulance? What happened?” shouted Buffy.

“It’s Faith."

*****

“You sure there wasn’t more than one?” You sure she wasn’t stabbed?” asked Buffy for the third time as she burst through the emergency room doors.

“No! And, and I don’t get it. She wasn’t hit that hard. Then again, I’ve never been punched by a..."

“Shh,” warned Buffy, silencing Dawn. They strode up to the nurses station with Willow, Xander and Anya trailing behind.

“Excuse me, you just brought a girl in. She’s about my height, dark hair...oh, and she’s blind!” added Buffy nervously.

“You must mean Faith,” answered a nurse, smiling even though she looked exhausted. “Are you family?"

Buffy hesitated but Dawn jumped right in.

“Yes. I’m her sister."

“This is Dawn. And I’m Buffy. Her sister. Which makes Faith..."

“I get it,” smiled the nurse, glancing at Willow.

“Oh, I’m not. Related, I mean. See?” asked Willow, holding up her red hair.

“I’m so glad you came. She needs her family now,” said the nurse, coming around from behind the counter.

“Is she alright? What’s wrong?” asked Buffy quickly.

“Oh, physically she’s doing remarkably well, considering what she’s been through. But, well, she needs a shoulder to lean on. I’m so glad you came. I was worried that she was alone. She didn’t mention any family or friends,” added the nurse. Buffy cringed. The nurse was obviously leading them to her room but Buffy put a hand on her arm, stopping her.

“Excuse me, I don’t understand. If Faith’s okay, physically, what..."

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry. I...I just assumed you knew or, or had at least considered the possibility. Especially with what happened to her. Faith lost the baby,” winced the nurse.

Buffy stared blankly at the nurse then slowly turned to face Dawn and Willow. They both mirrored her expression.

“She...she lost...the baby?” said Buffy, more to herself than to the nurse, still not accepting what those words meant.

“I don’t know what this world is coming to. A total stranger beating up women, and a blind one at that!” spat the nurse.

“Oh God,” whispered Xander in the background, putting an arm around Anya.

“I can let you see her. I want you to see her. But only two at a time, please. She’s right in there,” nodded the nurse to a closed door. “I’m so sorry. My name’s Debbie. If there’s anything I can do or if you need something, I’ll be at the station for at least another two hours."

She hesitated uncomfortably, then turned and walked away. No one spoke. Wide-eyed, Buffy simply looked at Dawn and Willow, unable to move.

“We...we should go in,” suggested Willow softly. “Dawn, could I go in first, with Buffy?"

“Um, yeah. Sure,” shrugged Dawn absently. Buffy didn’t move so Willow took her arm and led her to the door.

“That’s why she was drinking milk,” sighed Willow. Buffy put her hand on the door but turned to face Willow.

“She tried to tell me. She, she said...she would get a second chance to feel love again. This is what she meant,” winced Buffy, shaking her head.

“Buffy, we should try to put on a brave face for her. Not that she can...you know what I mean,” frowned Willow.

Buffy nodded and pushed the door open.

PART SIX

Willow closed the door behind her. Faith was sitting up in bed, a flimsy hospital gown covering her, an IV tube in one arm. Her eyes were open, staring, but she didn’t turn her head in their direction. Willow had to prod Buffy to move closer.

“Dawn?” ventured Faith, finally looking over.

“No. It’s me,” said Buffy.

“And me,” added Willow.

“Faith..."

“How’s Dawn? Is, is she okay?” asked Faith.

“Yeah. She’s fine. She’s right outside, waiting to see you,” answered Buffy.

“Thanks for...protecting her. We heard what happened,” hinted Willow, trying to find a way to bring up a subject everyone seemed to be avoiding.

“She killed it. I just got in the way,” sighed Faith.

“Dawn’s first kill. Wow, my little sister is growing up,” smiled Buffy, her words thick with sarcasm.

“B, it was so weird. Like one of those dreams we get, only...not. Deju vu with a twist. It happened, all over again. The rain, the clock chiming ten, Dawn outside...wicked creepy. I, I just..."

Faith trailed off, still looking in their direction, her head slightly lowered. With a nudge from Willow’s elbow, Buffy sat on the edge of the bed and reached out, holding Faith’s hand. She smiled, briefly, and gripped Buffy’s hand tightly. Very tightly. For a moment it looked like Faith might cry but she fought it off.

“Faith, how are you doing?” asked Buffy.

“I’m alive,” shrugged Faith, a statement without conviction.

“Faith, I’m so sorry,” said Willow, not hiding the pain in her voice.

Faith nodded but didn’t say anything.

“Why didn’t you tell us? Why...why didn’t you tell me?” winced Buffy.

“I tried to, B. I wanted to. But..."

Buffy glanced at Willow and waited, giving Faith the time she needed.

“But then I’d have to explain the how. And I’m not sure I can,” said Faith quickly, trying to get the words out.

“Well, the how? Not really needing the details. I assume it...the father, was a prison guard?” asked Buffy. Faith pulled her hand free to rub her eyes. She simply nodded.

“Faith, we don’t have to talk about this now. Maybe later, when you’re..."

“He beat me,” whispered Faith. Buffy narrowed her eyes, not understanding what she just heard.

“What?” said Willow, thrown.

“You heard me,” said Faith, her voice only a little louder. “Thing is...I let him."

Willow glanced at Buffy but she was just staring blankly at Faith.

“Faith, I don’t understand. You’re a Slayer,” said Willow.

“Yep. Coulda snapped his neck with a flick of my wrist. Coulda cried self defense...not that anyone would’ve believed me...would’ve cared. Hell, I’m sure most people would’ve expected me to kill him,” sighed Faith.

Neither girl spoke. They just didn’t know what to say. Faith talked but looked towards the end of the bed, her hair hanging down just enough to hide her unfocused eyes.

“It wasn’t so bad. I don’t bruise so easy, ya know? Least not on the outside."

“Faith,” began Buffy, but Faith ignored her.

“He wasn’t like that, not at first. See, I didn’t have a cellmate. The other girls were afraid of me. As were most of the guards. So everyone left me alone. No one to talk to, no one to...weeks went by, then months. After a while it wasn’t even a routine anymore. Couldn’t tell if it was night time or day."

Faith rubbed her hands over her face and took a deep breath. Willow stood closer to the head of the bed and put a hand on her shoulder. Buffy simply stared at her, barely breathing.

“I need to say this. I do,” said Faith, nodding, trying to her encourage own confession.

“Go on,” consoled Willow, now ignoring Buffy and only watching Faith.

“At first we just talked. Just a hello or, or what’s for lunch? But, but I found myself waiting, just in case, just for a chance to hear a few words. I wouldn’t move, afraid I might miss him if he walked by."

Faith pulled at the thin blanket covering her as if she were cold.

“One day his hand accidentally brushed against my wrist. I don’t think he even knew. That one touch...I just sat there, staring at my wrist. And I realized how lonely I was...how alone. See, I thought I had figured it out. I belonged there. I couldn’t hurt anyone there. As far as the world was concerned I was dead."

Faith turned her hand over, palm up, as if she could see again.

“I was,” sniffed Faith, biting down on her lower lip. Willow rubbed her shoulder again.

“Well, he liked what he saw. After that...he wanted to, to do...things. I didn’t care. I mean, if it was wrong, I should’ve felt humiliated...felt shame, or, or something! All I felt was his touch...warm, so unlike my own. It was better than feeling nothing. And if I didn’t do what he wanted, he hit me. If I didn’t do it fast enough...he hit me. Sometimes, even if I, I got it right he would beat me. But I never cried out. Not once. I wouldn’t give that to him. And how he hated that!” laughed Faith.

“Faith, you don’t have to...,” began Buffy.

“Yes! I do!” shouted Faith, startling Willow. She withdrew her hand.

“Sorry,” whispered Faith meekly.

“No, it’s alright. Get it out,” said Willow. Faith barely nodded.

“After a while, even that warmth was gone. There was nothing. I couldn’t feel anything. Not the sex, not the beatings...that’s when I got scared. Wicked scared. I couldn’t even hold onto the satisfaction of denying him what he wanted to hear. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, that I couldn’t sink any lower, I woke up one morning...and couldn’t see. You know, I actually believed I had died. Hell, I couldn’t see, couldn’t feel..."

Faith simply stopped talking. Willow swallowed, began to say something, then stopped.

“And, for the first time in, God, I don’t know how long...I was happy. No, not happy. Just relieved that it was finally over,” said Faith, tears only now running down her cheeks. “Even that release didn’t last."

Willow glanced at Buffy out of the corner of her eye. Buffy just sat there, staring unfocused at a spot on the bed. Willow slowly let out a breath, puffing out her cheeks. Faith wiped her eyes.

“Is that when you found out you were pregnant? When they brought you to the infirmary?” asked Willow.

“Yeah. Skipping ahead...they let me go. Out of pity, I guess,” shrugged Faith. “At my hearing I wouldn’t even give them his name."

The room was quiet except for the humming of the monitors and machines by the bed. Buffy reached out and gave Faith’s hand an unanswered squeeze.

“Things happen for a reason. This, this never woulda worked out, ya know? I mean, look at me! I can barely get through one day. I don’t know how to live! All I know how to do is kill. So, so how...how could I..."

Faith shut her eyes, her body beginning to tremble. She covered her face, trying to hide that she was crying, but began to sob loudly, unable to hold back any longer.

“I’m sorry, I, I promised myself that I wouldn’t cry,” whispered Faith. Buffy reached for her, slipping her arms around her back and pulling Faith to her. Faith resisted for a moment then slumped forward, hiding her face in Buffy’s shoulder. Buffy closed her eyes, wincing, holding her tight, letting her cry.

“Buffy...it was a girl,” whispered Faith. Buffy’s body went rigid, her eyes popping open. She pulled away slightly and brushed the hair away from Faith’s face.

“They told you that?” asked Buffy, cringing.

“I asked. I...I had to know,” whimpered Faith, he face still contorted with pain. She slowly leaned into Buffy again, clinging on desperately.

“Faith, I’m so sorry,” tried Willow, a hand on Faith’s shoulder. Faith didn’t respond.

“B, they want me to stay overnight. I can’t. I just can’t. I hate hospitals! The smell...I’m going to die if I have to stay here,” said Faith, pushing away.

“I’ll talk to the doctor. Maybe you can sign a release or something. But I doubt it. Faith, if you have to stay, you won’t be alone. I promise. I’ll go find the doctor right now, okay?” offered Buffy.

“Thanks,” nodded Faith, wiping her eyes. She felt Willow sit down on the bed next to her.

“Faith, if this helps...I mean, it’s something to hang on to. I’m going to do the spell."

“Willow, no. I can’t ask you..."

“There’s no asking. My mind’s made up. So, try to get some rest. This time tomorrow? You’ll have your eyesight back,” smiled Willow, running her hand through Faith’s hair.

“But Tara..."

“Already gave me her blessing. I just wasn’t listening. Again,” sighed Willow. She hesitated, then kissed Faith’s cheek and quickly stood up.

“I’ll send Dawn in. She wants to see you,” said Willow.

“Buffy? About tonight, maybe...maybe ask Xander? I don’t want to be alone,” said Faith nervously.

“I’ll stay,” replied Buffy.

“B, you don’t have to,” objected Faith.

“I want to,” insisted Buffy. Faith smiled and nodded.

“Thanks."

“I’m just stepping out with Willow for a minute. Dawn will come in and then I’ll track down the doctor. Hell, I’ve been here enough. Maybe I can find one that knows me and I can work the sympathy angle, get you out,” said Buffy. “Be right back."

Buffy closed the door behind them and quickly turned on Willow.

“Wow,” said Willow, shaking her head. “Just...wow."

“Yeah. Will, are you sure about this? What if..."

“Never been more sure of anything,” interrupted Willow, frowning at Buffy, getting upset that she seemed unmoved by Faith’s story.

Buffy looked away as if she knew what Willow was thinking.

“Buffy, do you still believe that’s the same girl in there that tried to kill you?” asked Willow, crossing her arms. To her surprise, Buffy didn’t hesitate with her answer.

“No."

Xander, Anya and Dawn came over and stood by them.

“How is she?” asked Dawn.

Willow looked at Buffy before answering, keeping her eyes on her friend as she spoke. And then she nodded her head and smiled.

“I think she’s doing the best she can. She’s strong...and we’ll be there for her,” said Willow, keeping eye contact with Buffy. Buffy raised her eyebrows, then smiled for Willow. Willow nodded again.

“Dawn, let’s give her a minute. I don’t think she wants you to see how upset she is,” warned Buffy.

“What do I say?” frowned Dawn.

“You really don’t have to say anything. Faith’s scared, doesn’t want to be alone. Just...just be yourself,” smiled Buffy. “It’s that simple."

Dawn nodded.

“Xander, can you drive me to the Magic Shop? I need to pick up a few things,” said Willow.

“You sure? What about the giving up magic cold poultry?” asked Anya.

“Turkey, honey. Cold turkey. Sure. Let’s get going,” answered Xander.

“I thought turkey was foul and chicken was poultry,” added Anya. Willow rolled her eyes.

*****

Tara stood in the doorway of her empty bedroom, not bothering to turn the light on. She saw the blinking red light on her answering machine but ignored it. Expending the energy to remain angry was exhausting but it was easier than giving in to her grief. Afraid to be alone, Tara suddenly knew where to go.

*****

“Buffy?"

“Hmm? Wh...what? Oh! I’m here. Faith, I’m right here,” reassured Buffy, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

“I knew that, B. Hell, you snore like a longshoreman. And I should know!” laughed Faith. Buffy smiled, amazed to hear Faith laugh again. Yet she knew Faith was only hiding, defensively falling back to her old patterns, to what was familiar. It was both comforting and sad.

“I do not!” protested Buffy. But Faith could hear the humor in her voice. Buffy got up out of the chair and stretched.

“What time is it?” asked Faith.

“About ten of eight. So, you ready to go home yet?” asked Buffy. “I have to warn you, if you think the food here is bad, wait until you taste my cooking."

“Home? You’re sending me back to Boston?” asked Faith innocently.

“Don’t go anywhere,” smiled Buffy, shaking her head. “I’ll be right back."

*****

“Okay, Faith’s all settled, Will. So...no word from Tara?” asked Buffy.

“No. I’ve left a couple of messages but she hasn’t returned my calls. Yet,” added Willow hopefully.

“A couple of messages?” prodded Buffy.

“Or ten. I lost count,” pouted Willow.

“Want me to swing by, see if she’s still sleeping?” asked Buffy.

“No, I need you to help me set up. Maybe Xander could do the swinging? You know, that sounded better in my head."

“I’ll call him,” agreed Buffy. “Um, Willow. You can do this? Without her, I mean."

“Yeah. I think so,” nodded Willow unenthusiastically.

“You think so? Why am I not comforted by that answer?"

“Buffy, I can do this. Tara would be more of a comfy blanket for me. I just want to talk to her, make things right again,” sighed Willow.

“And you will,” smiled Buffy.

“I’ll be in my room, getting things ready,” said Willow dejectedly.

“Will, wait. Tara loves you. Everything’s going to work out. You’ll see."

Willow looked down at the floor doubtfully.

“I don’t know,” whispered Willow.

“Hey! I see how her face lights up when you walk into the room. How she moves aside in her chair, inviting you to be next to her. Willow, she hangs on to every word you say. Even now after all this time she’s still in that puppy dog stage of love. Come on...you know I’m right,” smiled Buffy.

Willow tried to frown but ended up smiling.

“Thanks,” nodded Willow, her face turning a little red. She walked back to her room with just a little more spring in her step.

Buffy turned to see Dawn watching her from the doorway of her room. She didn’t try to hide the fact that she had been listening and she didn’t move to go back into her room. Buffy took that as an invitation to talk.

“You should’ve been there,” whispered Dawn, even though Willow couldn’t hear her now. Buffy walked over to her, taking a deep breath.

“No. You don’t get to do that. It’s not fair! There’s no way I could’ve known what would’ve happened last night,” argued Buffy.

“I’m not just talking about last night! I’m talking about Willow. Hello? She’s your best friend. Maybe if you had just spent a little more time with her, just talked to her...maybe she wouldn’t be hurting like this now, wouldn’t have gotten in over her head with magic. Maybe Tara would still..."

Dawn crossed her arms and turned away. But she didn’t leave. Buffy looked down at her hands.

“You’re right. Feel any better? And I don’t know what’s worse, Dawn. Knowing I blew it...or not feeling guilty about it. It’s Willow! This should be tearing me up inside. Thing is, I want it to. Dawn, there’s something so wrong with me. I wake up, hoping that this day will get just a little bit better. But it doesn’t. It doesn’t,” whispered Buffy.

Dawn lowered her arms and faced her sister, trying not to look scared.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t lie to you. I, I just didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want you to worry,” winced Buffy, holding out her arms. Dawn hugged her, keeping her face away from Buffy.

“I’m not a little kid anymore. You can tell me anything,” said Dawn.

“Maybe I can,” laughed Buffy so that she wouldn’t cry. “And I promise you, I’m going to get better. You’ll see. And Willow’s going be fine. I know it."

“You know, if it helps, you can still call me Dawnie. But, not in front of the others, okay?” asked Dawn, looking up.

“Thanks. I’d like that."

“If only mom were here. She’d understand. She’d know what to do,” sighed Dawn.

“She understands, Dawn,” smiled Buffy. But then her smile faded away as she looked into her sister’s eyes. Dawn stepped away from her, mouth open.

“Buffy...did you...when you were..."

“No,” said Buffy, closing her eyes.

“Buffy...did you see mom when you were..."

“No! No, it wasn’t like that. I...Dawn, I’m sorry, I can’t talk about this. Please. Just know that she’s at peace. There’s no way I can make you understand. Please,” said Buffy, gently grabbing Dawn’s arms, afraid she would run away. But Dawn didn’t move. She simply looked up at Buffy and slowly nodded her head.

“Okay. I won’t push. I just miss her, that’s all,” winced Dawn, bravely holding back tears. Buffy leaned down and kissed Dawn’s forehead.

“Me too,” smiled Buffy, sniffing. “Now do me a favor and go call Xander. He needs to find Tara and explain things, get her over here."

Dawn hugged her sister once more and then ran for the phone. Buffy rubbed her face with her hands, then walked back into Willow’s room. Faith was sitting on the bed, Willow was drawing a circle with red chalk on the floor.

“What’s up?” ventured Buffy.

“Well, it’s not really that complicated. Faith sits within a circle of protection,” said Willow, nodding towards the floor. “I basically call out this curse from her. Since she’s within the circle, the magicks can’t reenter her."

“And that’s it? I’m cured?” asked Faith.

“Well...no. Your sight will come back, slowly at first but you should be able to walk around the room without bumping into things in about five minutes,” explained Willow as she continued to draw.

“So if the magicks can’t reenter Faith, where do they go?” asked Buffy.

Willow raised her eyebrows and continued to draw.

“No!” said Buffy.

“That’s why only I can be in the room. But don’t worry,” said Willow, sitting back on her heels. “Because of what I am and what I can do, my body will heal where Faith’s couldn’t. It’s like beating the common cold, only quicker and without the chicken soup!"

“The common cold,” said Faith doubtfully.

“Well, okay, maybe it’s more like the flu. But not to worry. I can do this. It’s not much more than a restoring balance spell. What’s happened to Faith isn’t natural. Believe me, it’s easier to make things right in nature than to disrupt harmony."

Buffy looked at Faith. So did Willow.

“I’m sorry you have to do this, Willow,” said Faith, shaking her head.

“Don’t be!” admonished Willow.

“Is there anything you need, anything I can do?” asked Buffy.

“Um, yes. You can get a bucket and fill it with ice water. Oh, and get a few towels. See, I’m going to be running a high fever for a few hours. The cold towels will help. When the fever breaks, then it’s all over,” smiled Willow.

“Fever, huh? Would aspirin or Advil help?” asked Buffy.

“Already took half a dozen. Didn’t want to take any more and get an upset tummy,” frowned Willow, getting back down on her hands and knees to finish the circle.

“How soon should I get that?” asked Buffy.

“I’m thinking now. I just have to bless the circle. Already have the other ingredients mixed,” replied Willow. “There. That should hold."

“Should?” repeated Faith.

“You’re not going to wait for Tara?” asked Buffy.

“No. It’ll be dark soon and these magicks are more effective in daylight. I want to get started. You ready, Faith?"

“As ready as I’ll ever be when it comes to magic,” sighed Faith.

*****

“Interesting scent,” commented Faith as Willow lit the last of three candles.

“Don’t ask,” frowned Willow. She looked back over her shoulder at Buffy standing in the doorway. Dawn was peering over her sister’s shoulder.

“Should I shut the door?” asked Buffy.

“No. It’s not necessary. Um, did you hear from Xander?” asked Willow hopefully.

“He called but...I told him not to come here until he found her,” said Buffy.

“Okay,” nodded Willow. “It’s time."

Willow poured some red wine into a plain wooden bowl, raised it to her lips and drank from it, quickly putting the bowl back down. She paused, looking back at the wine bottle.

"What's that for?" asked Dawn, getting a gentle warning elbow from Buffy.

"For luck...for courage," shrugged Willow, still staring at the bottle.

"Something wrong?" asked Buffy.

"Um, no," answered Willow, embarrassed. "It's just...I can taste Tara's lipstick in the wine."

Misty eyed, Willow smiled longingly at Buffy.

“Uh, Willow? Is this going to hurt?” asked Faith anxiously.

“No. You might feel a sensation like your ears popping, but the whole procedure is actually over real fast. Well, at least for you. Just don’t move out of that circle until I tell you to."

“Okay,” nodded Faith. She moved from kneeling to sitting cross-legged.

“Comfortable?” asked Willow as she reached for a small but sharp knife, holding it over a candle.

“I guess.”

Buffy’s eyes grew wide as Willow stabbed the point into her palm without flinching, drawing blood.

“Faith, hold your right hand out in front of you, palm up,” ordered Willow. Faith did as she was told. “You’re going to feel a little pinch, that’s all."

Willow poked the knife into Faith’s palm. She winced but didn’t cry out. Willow put the knife down and gripped Faith’s hand, mixing their blood.

“Conligare!” said Willow. She held Faith’s hand for a moment, then released it. Dipping her fingers into a wooden bowl next to her, she stirred the reddish brown contents in a counterclockwise motion.

“Faith, close your eyes."

Willow leaned forward and applied the mixture to Faith’s eyelids, again in a counterclockwise motion. Placing her hands on either side of Faith’s face, Willow covered the Slayer’s eyes with her thumbs. Apprehensively taking a deep breath, she closed her own eyes.

“Intrare!” called out Willow, tensing as if expecting a blow.

Nothing happened. And then the candles flickered out. Faith gasped as Willow withdrew her hands with a smile.

“Open your eyes, Faith."

She did. And immediately looked frightened.

“Willow, are you sure..."

“I’m sure,” comforted Willow. “Just be still."

Buffy felt Dawn’s hand slip into her own but she didn’t look at her. She exhaled, not realizing that she had been holding her breath.

“Hey,” whispered Faith. And then she began to smile. “Hey!"

The darkness before Faith began to fade, dissipating like a fog. Her world became gray, then even brighter. Dark objects took form, became defined. The bed, the chair...and Willow, kneeling in front of her.

“Willow, it’s working!” laughed Faith, squinting. “In fact, it’s too bright in here.”

“Was there ever a doubt?” teased Willow. “You can step out of that circle now."

“Okay, but everything’s still a little fuzzy. Won’t stop me from doing this, though."

Faith reached out and took Willow into her arms, hugging her tightly.

“Thank you,” smiled Faith, her voice breaking. And she felt Willow’s body tremble in her embrace.

“Willow?” said Faith, pulling back.

“It’s okay. The fever’s kicking in. Um, Buffy?"

“Yeah?” answered Buffy, quickly kneeling by Willow’s side. She grimaced, seeing how slick her friend’s skin already was, wet with beads of moisture. And she was shaking.

“Can, can you help me into bed?” asked Willow weakly.

“Sure,” replied Buffy, glancing at Faith, smiling despite her concern. “Will, you did great. Hell, you were amazing!"

“Yay for me,” moaned Willow in response.

“Hey. You okay?” asked Faith, gently touching Willow’s face with the back of her hand, shocked at how warm she already was.

“I’m not sure,” winced Willow. “I’m kinda dizzy, and, and..."

“Too weak to stand up?” tried Buffy.

“Well, there’s that,” nodded Willow. “But I was going to add...I’m kinda blind. As in I can’t see."

“What?” said Buffy and Faith at the same time.

“It’s not an unexpected side effect. And it makes sense, if you think about it...which I really don’t want to do,” grimaced Willow, her body wracked by chills.

“Okay, into bed it is,” said Buffy, getting an arm under Willow’s legs and lifting, holding her face close to her. “Faith, get those covers down."

“Right."

Buffy eased Willow onto the bed.

“Will, this is only temporary, right?” demanded Buffy.

“Yes. Don’t worry,” answered Willow through chattering teeth. Buffy pulled the blankets up over her. “Buffy?"

“Yeah? What can I do? Just tell me,” insisted Buffy.

“Find Tara. Tell her I need her. Please?"

Buffy took her hand and held it tightly.

“I’ll find her. I promise. Faith, are you okay? Can you stay with her?"

“No problem. Go. Take Dawn with you,” nodded Faith, already reaching for a wet towel.

“I’ll be back soon, Will. Okay?” asked Buffy.

Willow nodded and closed her eyes.

*****

“Remember, keep the door locked. I won’t be long. I hope. But Tara might come by the Magic Shop looking for..."

“Buffy, I’ll be okay. The lights are on, the door will be locked and there’s a phone. It’ll be dark soon, so go!” insisted Dawn.

Buffy left and Dawn locked the door behind her. She turned around, noticing immediately how much more quiet this place was at night than in the day.

*****

“How ya doing, Willow?” asked Faith, holding a wet towel on her forehead.

“Better...better..."

“Good,” smiled Faith, completely unconvinced.

“No. You better get the bucket. I think I’m going to barf!"

“Oh!"

*****

Buffy hated going where she had to go, but she didn’t know what else to do. She needed help. His help. But only to cover more of Sunnydale to find Tara, Buffy reminded herself. She stopped before she even got to his crypt, speaking without turning around.

“Geez, horny much? The sun set what? Thirty seconds ago? And already you’re on my butt?” sighed Buffy, only now turning to face Spike.

“Be still my heart, it’s my lover. Oh wait. Uh, about that beating heart thingy,” said Spike wryly.

“I get it,” winced Buffy.

“And you wish I were on your butt,” smiled Spike, stepping in front of her.

“Spike, there’s no time for..."

Spike leaned in, kissing her tenderly on the neck.

“I mean, I, um...don’t do that,” whispered Buffy, closing her eyes, leaning to him.

He moved up her neck, nibbling on her ear.

“Spike, I need your...I need..."

Buffy took his head in her hands and kissed him deeply on the mouth. Spike was the one to pull away first. Buffy slowly opened her glazed over eyes.

“You...wanted...something?” whispered Spike, his lips enticingly close. She kissed him again, softer this time.

“No, no I...” protested Buffy weakly out of the side of her mouth.

Spike ignored her and began to fervently return the kiss, supporting her as he felt her knees weaken.

PART SEVEN

“Willow?"

Faith wrung most of the cold water from the towel and pressed it to Willow’s neck, holding it in place for a while, then reached under her blouse, moving it down over first one shoulder and then the other.

“Hey, how you doin’ in there?” asked Faith, trying to keep her voice upbeat. Willow’s eyes were closed. Her body shivered in response.

Faith dropped the towel into the bucket again, this time barely squeezing it at all. She covered Willow’s forehead with it, letting the water run down her face and neck.

“I liked it a hell of a lot better when you were all delirious and stuff, what with Anya and frog colored bunnies...what the hell is frog color anyway?"

Willow moaned but didn’t open her eyes. Faith glanced at the clock.

“Come on, B, where the hell are you? I’m not good at...this. Give me something I can stab or beat!"

Faith ran her forearm across her forehead, wiping the sweat away.

“I don’t know what else to do here, girl!” yelled Faith, trying not to panic. Willow moaned again.

“Um, okay, the other night, you just wanted to hear my voice. So I’ll just keep talking. You don’t like? Then tell me to shut up."

Faith flipped the towel over and touched it to Willow’s cheeks before putting it back on her forehead. Except for the twitching as her body fought the fever, Willow was limp.

“Let’s see. How ‘bout a story? Oh! I know. I keep having this dream. Hell, I’ve had it so many times now...that ever happen to you? Same thing, over and over...Buffy and me, we’re fighting again. Outside of my apartment, on the roof. She gets a good one in, nearly knocking my head off, ya know?"

Faith tossed the towel into the bucket of ice water, this time not even pretending to squeeze any water out of it. She covered Willow’s chest with it, pushing it inside of her blouse. Willow shook with the initial contact but didn’t even moan this time.

“Damn! I don’t even want to guess what your temperature is,” sighed Faith. “Anyway, I come right back on B. I think I surprised her. She cries out, gasping, and we both look down. Only this time the knife is in her belly...not mine."

Faith inhaled slowly, her own body trembling. She rolled the towel up and placed it on Willow’s head again.

“I cry out her name, over and over. But it’s too late. You can’t...some things you just can’t make better. Oh, and I didn’t just cry out her name,” smiled Faith. “Guess I sorta moaned it. And wasn’t that amusing back when I had a cellmate. Try explaining moaning a girl’s name in your sleep every night to a more than curious..."

Faith glanced up at the clock and shook her head.

“Well, enough of that story. Don’t need Freud to analyze that dream, ya know? How ‘bout...hmm...I know! I never did tell you about that time I was in the library but you and Oz didn’t know I was there, did I? Oh, you naughty girl,” grinned Faith.

*****

Spike prolonged the kiss, feeling Buffy’s body rise to meet his. He rested his hand on the inside of her hip and with a moan Buffy pulled away.

“No. No, Spike I can’t. I...Tara. I have to find Tara!” said Buffy, out of breath.

“Tara? Why are you looking for her?” asked Spike, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his duster.

“It’s Willow. She’s very sick. Tara needs to be with her."

Spike hesitated, seeing Buffy frown at his smokes, and reluctantly shoved the pack back into his coat.

“Red’s been messing with the magicks again?” inquired Spike.

“No! Well, yes, but only to help Faith,” said Buffy, running her hands over her face.

“Faith? The other Slayer is not only out of prison but here in Sunnydale? Oh joy of joys,” said Spike, rolling his eyes. “Since when does that one need help from anyone?"

“And you know her how?” asked Buffy, hands on her hips.

“Your old soldier boy filled me in some. The rest I picked up on the street. Girl’s got a rep,” grinned Spike approvingly.

“And word on the street about Faith is?” hinted Buffy, tilting her head.

“Not good. Face it, Buffy, a Slayer to my kind is dangerous enough. But a Slayer playing cricket with only half a wicket?” said Spike, shaking his head and tapping it with one finger.

“She’s not like that. Faith’s different now,” argued Buffy. “And what’s half a wicket?"

“Right. All the same, I believe I’ll keep my distance, thank you very much. Not that I doubt you,” added Spike, rolling his eyes.

Buffy lowered her arms and smiled.

“Oh, so what you’re saying is that once someone is labeled evil they should never be trusted again, should never be given a second chance,” nodded Buffy.

“Um, no, that’s not what I meant,” pouted Spike.

“Look, someone worked some bad mojo on her, made her blind. Willow cured her. Spike, I don’t have time for this! I need you to help me find Tara!” shouted Buffy, exasperated.

“Fine by me! Bloody hell, all you have to do is ask,” frowned Spike.

“Sorry, I got distracted,” answered Buffy sarcastically. Spike eyed her, pretending to be bored. “Spike, will you help me look for Tara!?"

“Hmm,” said Spike, rubbing his chin as he smiled at Buffy. “What’s in it for me?"

Buffy took a step towards him and glared menacingly.

“If you don’t, I’ll tell Xander that you were a virgin the day you died,” grinned Buffy.

“How did...I mean, pfft! Please! Me? A bloody...anyway, no need to look. She spent the night with me,” winked Spike.

Buffy just stared at him.

“Not like that!” complained Spike. “Girl was lonely, is all. And might I add that wench can drink! Poor thing’s paying for it now, though. Been sleeping it off in my bed all day."

“You got her drunk?"

“She got herself drunk and with no encouragement from me, I might add!” shouted Spike.

Buffy sighed and stormed past him.

“Hey, I had to watch Passions sitting on the floor!"

Buffy shoved the door to Spike’s crypt open and ran in. Tara moaned at the noise and sat up in his bed, one hand holding her head. She squinted at Buffy, wincing.

“Tara. We have to go. It’s Willow."

“Is she..."

“She’s very sick. And your cactus died because of a spell that Amy did. I’ll explain on the way,” said Buffy, turning to go. Tara just sat there, looking around the room.

“Buffy...where are my pants?"

Buffy’s eyes opened wide and she turned to face Spike. He shrugged innocently and went back outside.

*****

Willow sat in front of a mirror, brushing her hair, staring at her own reflection, staring into her completely black eyes. The room was more than dark. It was empty. On the stark dresser before her two flickering candles cast shadows to either side of her ghost image. The room was cold...Willow was cold, but it didn’t bother her. And she wondered why. Pulling the brush through her hair once more, she noticed that her skin seemed awfully pale, even more so than usual. If it was this cold...why couldn’t she see her breath? And why were her lips blue?

Willow put the brush down. And suddenly realized that she wasn’t alone. Slowly standing, she knew who was here. She turned to face him.

“Evening, Strawberry. I knew you’d come back."

“Rack,” whispered Willow.

“You seem surprised to see me,” he smiled.

“I, I am. I didn’t come to you,” protested Willow. “And where am I anyway?"

“Ah, but you did, you did,” insisted Rack, ignoring her question. “It was your choice."

“No. No, I chose to help Faith. It was a pure spell. Tara told me..."

“Our actions sometimes hold consequences that are often, well, unforeseen. You of all people should know this,” laughed Rack.

“Go away. I don’t want you here,” said Willow, trying to raise her voice in anger. But only her fear came through.

“But you’re going to need me...you know you will,” nodded Rack knowingly.

“No. No, I...I don’t,” winced Willow.

“In the morning, when you wake up...if you wake up...you’re going to need me. And you know I can help. If you thought you were in pain before, what awaits you now will be sheer agony. Just let me touch you, and you can avoid facing that,” offered Rack, extending his hand to her.

Willow looked at it, biting her lower lip.

“Know the reason I like you, Strawberry? You’re not afraid to play with the Primal forces, to delve just a little deeper than you ought to. Imagine where you can go...with my help,” smiled Rack.

Willow glanced up at him, swallowed and looked back at his hand. He moved it towards her and she jumped back, bumping into the dresser behind her.

“No."

Rack hesitated but didn’t lower his hand. “Oh, come now. Just a little taste."

“You said it was my choice. I’ve made my choice. No,” repeated Willow, this time with just a little more conviction.

“You’ll be screaming my name, begging me to help you. I offer it now, so that you can avoid suffering. Choose wisely,” said Rack.

“Go!” screamed Willow, her hands clenched into fists by her side.

Rack smiled. And then he bowed his head and slowly retreated, becoming engulfed by the darkness behind them.

“You know how to find me. I’ll be waiting. Always,” came his whispered promise.

Willow gripped the dresser behind her for support. She needed to call out to him, wanted to run after him...Willow sat down and faced the mirror again, tears in her eyes. If she was this afraid now, what would the pain be like in the morning? And then Willow smiled.

She could see her breath.

Willow closed her eyes and began to cry, for how long she didn’t know. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned, grateful that he had come back, knowing she couldn’t face what awaited her alone. Opening her eyes, she saw Tara smiling down at her.

“Tara!” breathed Willow, now crying because she was happy, lightheaded from simply seeing the person she needed the most. Tara looked confused for a moment and was about to say something but changed her mind. Instead she just smiled.

Willow leaned forward, pressing her cheek against Tara’s stomach. Tara’s arms came up, gently cradling Willow.

“Hey. What are you doing, trying to get out of bed?” sighed Tara.

“Tara, I’m so sorry. I missed you so much,” whimpered Willow, her body shaking with sobs now and not the fever. She tried to lift her arms, tried to wrap them around Tara’s waist, but she was too weak.

“Let’s get you comfortable, okay?” whispered Tara.

Willow didn’t remember being lifted or carried. When she opened her eyes she was lying in her bed again with Tara sitting next to her, caressing her forehead with a wet towel. Willow smiled. She tried to raise her head but couldn’t.

“So sleepy,” whispered Willow.

“Everyone’s really worried about you,” said Tara. “Especially...especially me."

“ I was worried too,” smiled Willow.

“About yourself?” grinned Tara.

“No, silly. About us,” said Willow, easing her hand out towards Tara. Tara took it, hesitated, the raised her hand to her lips. Willow smiled again.

“I’m so sorry. Please, you have to forgive me. I, I promise to be good. No more magic,” sighed Willow.

“Willow, just rest. I’m right here. We can talk in the morning. Please...close your eyes. Try to sleep,” said Tara, flipping the towel over on her forehead. Willow closed her eyes but pouted.

“You know I can’t sleep without you. Can...can you lay down with me?” pleaded Willow.

“Sure,” smiled Tara. She removed the towel and moved the blanket covering Willow, slipping in beside her. But Willow only seemed more upset than before.

“Willow? What’s wrong? I’m here. I’m right here,” comforted Tara softly, kissing Willow’s forehead. She grimaced at how warm her girlfriend still was.

“You’re not here...you’re far away. Tara, please honey, I need another chance. I’m...so... sorry,” whispered Willow between sobs. Tara pulled her closer, rubbing her back with one hand.

“I’m your girl, you know that,” promised Tara, tears now in her eyes. “Willow, I need you to get better. You have to fight this. For me."

She felt Willow shake her head beneath her.

“Not for you. For us,” said Willow.

“For us,” nodded Tara.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” smiled Willow. She tilted her head, blindly searching for Tara’s lips. Their mouths met but after a short kiss Tara pushed her away.

“Rest,” whispered Tara. “You don’t know how weak you are."

“No. Not just yet. I need to show you how much I love you, that I would do anything for you,” whispered Willow. She felt Tara tense in her embrace. And Willow began to cry again.

“You...you don’t want to be with me,” cried Willow, desperately holding on now.

“Of course I do! I’m just so worried about you,” said Tara.

“No. No, in the morning you’ll be gone. You won’t be here,” sniffed Willow.

“I swear to you, I won’t leave you alone. Shh...” comforted Tara, rocking her in her arms.

Willow only cried harder.

“Oh, Willow, please don’t cry. I’m sorry. It’s just...you’re so sick and, and I’m scared, you know? Wicked scared. If something would happen to you..."

“Nothing will. Not while I’m in your arms,” answered Willow firmly. And Tara smiled.

“Okay. Whatever you need from me, I’m yours. Completely,” said Tara, gently touching the curve of Willow’s face, brushing her hair away with a finger. “Just ask."

Willow smiled. And Tara could feel that her girlfriend wasn’t trembling like before.

“No. I won’t ask. I’ll show you,” whispered Willow. Her lips barely touched Tara’s mouth, kissing the skin around her lips, her neck, the hollow of her shoulder, always moving. She moved her hand to the side of Tara’s breast, gliding over her in a circular motion. Tara inhaled sharply but lay still, her eyes on Willow.

Willow made eye contact, smiling at seeing tears in the corners of Tara’s eyes.

“What?” whispered Willow. Tara only shook her head and smiled.

“It’s been so long...” sighed Tara, her voice breaking.

“Tell me about it,” answered Willow, her mouth on Tara’s before she could say anything more. This time their kiss was deeper and Tara eagerly returned the gesture. They paused, their noses touching, each gasping for breath.

“You sure you..."

Willow put a finger over Tara’s lips.

“Help me get this shirt off,” winked Willow, sitting up. Tara grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled upwards, tossing it aside. Willow took Tara’s hand and placed it over her left breast, her bra strap slipping off one shoulder. Her heart was racing beneath her fevered skin.

“Feel that? I’m alive because of you. Don’t you understand how much I love you?"

Tara winced and looked down, immediately crying. Willow hugged her, smiling.

“Honey, don’t cry. We’re together. What else matters?” laughed Willow happily.

“I’m sorry. I’ve never felt...never mind,” sniffed Tara, crying harder.

Willow kissed her cheek then hugged her tighter.

“Are you okay?” asked Willow, so content to feel Tara against her again, not listening for her answer.

“Five by five,” whispered Tara, closing her eyes.

*****

The front door burst open. Tara took two steps and froze, causing Buffy to bump into her and Dawn to bump into Buffy. Faith was sitting at the kitchen table, just staring at her outstretched wrist. She took a deep breath and slowly stood up. She was not smiling.

“Faith! What’s wrong? What happened? Is Willow..."

“Easy, Tara. Nothing’s wrong,” said Faith holding up one hand. “Willow’s fine. She’s upstairs...sleeping. The fever broke."

“Thank the goddess,” sighed Tara with relief. Dawn shut the door behind them. “When I saw your face..."

“Sorry ‘bout that. I’m wicked beat,” shrugged Faith.

“Did she ask for me?” asked Tara.

“Oh, she called out your name, more than once,” smiled Faith.

“Oh. Um, I know she’ll probably sleep for a long time, but I want to be there when she wakes up. So I’m going to head up,” said Tara, motioning towards the stairs.

“Tara, wait!” called Faith. Tara turned to face her and Faith walked over to stand next to her.

“I have a confession to make,” frowned Faith.

Buffy’s eyes opened just a little wider and she crossed her arms. Her expression wasn’t lost on Faith.

“I, um, think this spell was a lot more dangerous than Willow led us to believe. She had a bad fever and was really out of it. Delirious. I can’t...I can’t believe she would risk her life for someone, knowing...well, especially for me,” grimaced Faith.

“Been trying to tell ya Faith, you don’t know her. She was just being Willow,” smiled Buffy.

“Yeah. I know that now. And Tara, going through what she did, well, the whole time she was worried about you. She didn’t care what happened to her."

Faith stepped closer to Tara, making sure the other girl held her gaze. She lowered her voice to a whisper and spoke very slowly.

“The whole time, all she thought about was you."

Tara smiled but her face grew red, as if she wasn’t worthy of such praise. She looked down, glanced back up at Faith and looked away again, still smiling. Faith thought that Tara might even cry.

“Oh, my confession. I’m jealous,” grinned Faith. “Willow’s a very lucky girl."

And now Tara did cry. She covered her mouth with a hand, still smiling.

“No. I am,” nodded Tara. “Thank you, for all that you did for her."

Faith awkwardly nodded. “Oh hell, I didn’t...Tara, look what she did for me."

Tara smiled and almost laughed.

“You should be with her. You should be the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes,” said Faith. Tara turned to go and then stopped.

“Faith, I’m so glad you got your sight back. And, um, I’m really sorry about..."

“I know. But...not now. Now you should be happy,” interrupted Faith. She swallowed and Tara could see how brave she was trying to be. Tara smiled sadly and nodded, glancing at Buffy before running up the stairs. Faith turned and walked back to the kitchen table, dropping down into the chair again. Buffy motioned with her head for Dawn to follow her and took a seat across from Faith.

“You okay?” asked Buffy.

“Yeah,” replied Faith flatly.

“Faith, that was nice. What you did for Tara, I mean. She needed to hear that,” smiled Dawn.

Buffy wasn’t sure but she thought she saw Faith flinch.

“Yeah,” repeated Faith, half smiling and staring vacantly at the table.

Buffy narrowed her eyes, watching Faith.

“I don’t know if this means the same thing to you as it does to me, but um, I don’t mind that you’re my sister too. In fact, I kinda think the whole idea is cool,” laughed Dawn.

“Huh? Dawn...what are you talking about?” asked Faith, raising her head to stare at Dawn.

“You know. Your memories...from back in Boston...about me,” said Dawn, tapping her chest with her thumb.

Faith sat up in the chair stiffly and looked at Buffy. Buffy and Dawn exchanged confused looks. Dawn shrugged.

“Dawn, I never met you until three days ago. I knew you were Buffy’s sister, but...but what the hell are you talking about?” asked Faith nervously.

Buffy’s mouth dropped open. Dawn’s face, at first pale, was now ashen. She didn’t move. She didn’t blink.

“Faith, the first day you came back here...you told me that Dawn was your sister. That, that you recognized her voice. But that she died when she was ten. This had better not be some damn joke because it’s not funny! Do you know what you put my sister through?” demanded Buffy, spittle flying in her breath.

“B, I swear, I have no idea what you’re talking about! I never had a sister! And thank God for that, what with the shit I had to deal with growing up!"

Faith looked at Dawn. So did Buffy. Dawn shivered, gripped by a chill. She wet her lips and slowly stood up from the table, never taking her eyes off of Faith.

“Wolfram and Hart never made you blind. The monks did. You can see now...and so you don’t remember,” whispered Dawn.

“Dawn, that doesn’t make sense,” said Buffy, cringing.

“What does?” yelled Dawn.

“She’s gotcha there, B,” sighed Faith.

“I, I gotta go. I think I’m going to be sick,” muttered Dawn.

“Dawn!"

Dawn hesitated only because Faith’s voice suddenly seemed so full of pain. She stood up, gripping the table with her hands until her knuckles shown white.

“I never told Buffy this. I never told anyone. You know I never once came after you or tried to hurt you. Not once. But do you know why? See, you were...I always wanted a sister. Someone I could take care of. Someone who would..."

Faith hesitated, glancing at Buffy, then looking away, her lips trembling.

“Dawn, you were innocent. I didn’t trust myself. Thought I might be tempted to...I couldn’t...don’t you get it? You were the sister I never had. No way was I going to let you into our world,” said Faith, nodding at Buffy.

Dawn looked at Buffy, stared at her, fear being replaced pity...and then anger. She walked over to Buffy and put her hands on her shoulders.

“I wish I had met you, Faith. Then...maybe...you wouldn’t have tried to kill my sister!"

“She’s gotcha there, Faith,” smiled Buffy.

Faith slowly sat back down into her chair, limp. She simply nodded.

“Maybe...maybe Faith remembered you because that was the only way she would know that your life was in danger. So that she would know what to do, know what was happening,” said Buffy.

“Buffy, that’s a reach,” frowned Dawn.

“She did save your life,” countered Buffy.

“You know, if you try to think about the monks, about me..."

“You’ll go crazy,” finished Buffy, anticipating Dawn’s thoughts. Dawn smiled until she noticed that Faith was staring at her.

“I wish I had met you,” whispered Faith. She leaned forward, placing an elbow on the table and covered her eyes with one hand.

Dawn leaned in and whispered something into Buffy’s ear. Buffy thought about it and then nodded.

“I’ll be in my room,” said Dawn, giving Buffy’s shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Faith."

Faith looked up, her face drained.

“You have met me. Now. Maybe there’s a reason,” said Dawn, slowly lowering her eyes to look upon her sister and then, just as slowly, making eye contact with Faith. Faith looked at Buffy, searching her eyes and finding them not empty but hopeful..

“Good night,” said Dawn as she left.

“What did she whisper to you?” asked Faith.

“She thought it was sad that you had said she was the only person you had ever loved. And now that had been taken away from you,” explained Buffy without hesitation.

If Buffy’s words had hurt Faith, she didn’t show it.

“But she also said that maybe it was time we talked. And I think she’s right,” smiled Buffy. “I should’ve said this a long time ago. I’m sorry that I couldn’t."

“Buffy, maybe I should go first. There’s something you need to know first."

“No. I need to say this. Faith, maybe it wasn’t the monks that blinded you. Maybe it was The Powers That Be that Angel told me about. Maybe they needed another Slayer again or, or...oh, who knows? But you came here for a reason, because you needed to. And I don’t mean just to regain your sight,” nodded Buffy.

“It’s about Willow."

Buffy leaned back in her chair, silenced.

“Go on,” said Buffy apprehensively.

“I’ve been around death. You know what I mean. I didn’t want to scare Tara. What Willow tells her...well, that’s between them. But your friend almost died tonight."

Buffy’s eyes went wide and she looked away from Faith. She hadn’t thought about Willow being close to death. It hadn’t even crossed her mind.

“I kept wetting her down with those ice cold towels, but that fever...God, how her body was shaking! I was scared. And I held her. Somehow, that seemed to help. She thought I was Tara. She kept calling out her name..."

Faith paused to take a deep breath.

“Thank you, Faith. I should’ve been there."

“No. I don’t think you could have...besides, you had to find Tara. I tried to tell her who I was, but...if I pulled away, she became hysterical. You see, she thought Tara was leaving her. So...I was Tara. And it helped. Willow wasn’t trembling as badly. I held her and, and even in all that pain, she was happy. So...happy,” cringed Faith, turning her face away from Buffy.

Buffy didn’t realize Faith was crying until she heard the sobs, heard Faith painfully inhale, gasping.

“Faith, what’s wrong? I don’t understand. You, you were great! You saved her life!"

Faith nodded and sat up. Her hair hung down, hiding her eyes from Buffy. Buffy reached over and gently pulled the dark strands away from her face.

“Yeah. I did what I had to do. Would’ve done anything for that girl, after what she did for me,” sniffed Faith, meeting Buffy’s eyes. “And I did."

Buffy stared at Faith, confused.

“What?” whispered Buffy.

“Without Tara, Willow was lost. I believe...no, I know she would have died. Once I understood that, I was Tara. And I gave myself to her, whatever she needed. No hesitation, no regret...holding nothing back. It was...Tara’s a lucky girl, to have someone love you with that intensity. That’s real magic. But I’m worried about them,” winced Faith.

“What?” repeated Buffy, so softly she was almost mouthing the words.

“What if Tara finds out? What if she doesn’t understand? I mean, Willow might not even remember, what with the fever. And..."

“What?” said Buffy, her voice now piercing like a knife, her right hand clenching as she choked back her impending rage.

Faith shook her head, suddenly realizing that Buffy didn’t understand.

“It wasn’t like me with Riley! I didn’t deceive anyone! I saved her fucking life!"

Buffy closed her eyes and swallowed, counting to ten. And then to twenty.

“B, I want to do the right thing. Do I tell Willow? Should I? Or...what about Tara?” asked Faith, her voice aching with despair.

“Get out,” whispered Buffy, opening her eyes. She turned on Faith, glaring. Faith suddenly looked like she would throw up.

“Buffy, please,” begged Faith.

“Get. Out."

Faith recoiled as if she had been slapped. Her teeth clenched, anger now screaming away any traces of guilt or doubt.

“You had sex with her?” said Buffy, her voice intense, deep with anger.

Faith pushed up from her chair and placed her hands on the table in front of her. She leaned towards Buffy until their faces were almost touching.

“I didn’t have sex with her. We made love. And if you’re wondering, it wasn’t the first time I was with a girl. You should try it sometime. Maybe you would...feel something,” spat Faith, her voice a controlled whisper.

“Get out. Now,” said Buffy, afraid to look Faith in the eye. “Please."

Faith walked away, grabbing her backpack off the kitchen counter. She opened the front door and turned around. Buffy still wouldn’t look at her.

“Know how I know the difference between having sex and making love? Riley taught me. Hell, I must’ve been good. He even told me that he loved me."

From the shock and revulsion on Buffy’s face, Faith knew she had guessed right. That had been the first time Riley had spoke those words. And Buffy hadn’t been there to hear them.

“See ya around, B."

Buffy shot up, enraged.

“I only wish that you could remember Dawn so that you’d know what you lost!” screamed Buffy. “A gift like that isn’t bestowed on a soul very often in this short life, Faith. You’ll never feel anything! You never could! And I’m glad you lost..."

Buffy froze, her face paling with the horror of what she almost said. But she didn’t have to say the words. Faith actually staggered and had to brace herself, reaching for the door with a hand for balance. But her eyes never left Buffy. And her eyes held no anger, no hate. They only reflected raw pain. Faith could barely say the words, but she forced them out.

“You win again, B. You know how to wield that knife. Only I didn’t know you’d cut so deep. Maybe we’re not so alike after all."

Faith left without shutting the door.

“Faith,” mouthed Buffy, her breath barely a whisper. “Faith, come back. I’m...I’m sorry.”

But Buffy didn’t move. She stared at the table in front of her, unable to breathe. She watched as her hand began to tremble, unable to control it, unable to feel it. She collapsed into her chair. Buffy lowered her forehead to the table, her eyes shut tight, and gave in to the only emotion she understood. Pain. She cried for release, she cried for Willow, for Tara, for her sister...and she even was able to cry for Faith. She let go, knowing what was coming. The sobs tore through her as she moaned in agony, her fingers clutching feebly at the table. And finally, for the first time since she returned from the grave, Buffy allowed herself to cry for Buffy.

PART EIGHT

Bleary eyed and still sniffing, Buffy stood in the doorway of Willow’s room and leaned her head against the door. The weak sunrise was barely noticeable through the still drawn shades. Tara was asleep in a chair pulled close to the bed, her head at an odd angle and her mouth slightly open. Willow was on her side facing Tara, arms crossed in front of her, crossed at the wrists.

Buffy’s gaze drifted down to her own wrist. She brushed her fingers over it, concentrating on the sensation...and felt like crying again. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and dropped her hands by her side. And when she opened her eyes again, Willow was staring at her. Buffy smiled and held a finger up to her lips, nodding towards Tara. Willow smiled in return and eased herself into a sitting position, patting the bed beside her with one hand.

Buffy sat down and for a moment and just smiled at Willow.

“You can see me?” whispered Buffy, nodding for confirmation but only half serious.

“Well, duh! Of course I can. You didn’t doubt that I could do it, did you?” teased Willow, keeping her voice low.

“Doubt? Never. If anything I underestimated you. Um, not what you could do, but what you would do for someone else. Won’t happen again,” winked Buffy, putting the back of her hand to Willow’s forehead. “Fever’s gone. How do you feel?"

Willow held her hand out flat in front of her and wiggled it.

“Meh. Let’s just say that if Anya was here and she started talking about money, I wouldn’t have the strength to crawl away,” pouted Willow.

“Not to worry. I’d drag you from the room myself,” reassured Buffy.

Willow sighed, but then she looked at Tara and smiled. “Still, I’ve never been happier."

“That’s great,” answered Buffy, glancing at Tara so that she didn’t have to look at Willow.

“Thanks for finding her, Buffy,” said Willow, her eyes still on Tara. “I so needed her last night."

Buffy tried to say something but froze, seeing such complete contentment on Willow’s face. Willow wiped a tear from her eye and smiled at Buffy.

“Will, you were pretty delirious last night. Do you...do you remember much?"

“Oh yeah,” nodded Willow. “Tara and I, well, I think we’re going to be okay. I really do. I, um, don’t want to embarrass you or anything, but there’s something to be said for make up sex."

Buffy looked away and took a deep breath.

“Buffy? Is something wrong?” asked Willow, scrunching up her eyebrows.

“No,” answered Buffy a little too quickly. “It’s just, well, you know...the fever and, and you were so out of it...you might be a little confused. About the remembering. And the confusion."

“No, it was all too real. My imagination isn’t that colorful,” said Willow, not smiling because she saw that Buffy still seemed uncomfortable. “Oh, I said something, didn’t I? Is that it? Was I mean? Buffy, I wasn’t mean, was I? It was the fever!"

“No, no. You didn’t...Willow, Tara wasn’t here last night. By the time we got her back here you were already asleep. The fever had broken."

“But...no. No, I couldn’t have imagined...Tara really wasn’t here?” asked Willow absently, slowing raising a hand to touch the side of her neck. She awkwardly lowered her hand when she notice Buffy watching her.

“Tara wasn’t here,” repeated Buffy, shaking her head.

“But, you didn’t leave me alone, right? Faith was here to...to take care of me,” said Willow slowly.

Buffy fought the urge to look away. She almost imperceptibly nodded.

“Faith was here. The whole time. She never left your side."

“Oh,” answered Willow, glancing at Tara. When she looked back at Buffy her friend opened her eyes just slightly. And Willow’s eyes slowly opened very wide.

“Oh!” repeated Willow, her hands pulling the blanket up a little higher to cover herself.

“Willow! Honey, how are you feeling?” asked Tara, suddenly awake. She leaned over and gave Willow a hug. Confused and nervous, Willow kept her eyes on Buffy and slowly raised her arms to embrace Tara.

“You know, right now I’m feeling great,” said Willow. Tara pulled back and Willow smiled for her.

“Oh, Tara, I must look like I was dragged behind a car,” winced Willow, pushing back her hair with both hands. Tara laughed, sat down on the bed next to her and kissed her on the mouth. Buffy politely looked away as the kiss lingered. Willow, hesitant at first, reached up and wrapped her arms around Tara.

“You look wonderful,” laughed Tara. She looked back over her shoulder, her face slightly red.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Buffy. I, uh, well...you know,” shrugged Tara. Even Willow glanced away, somewhat embarrassed.

“Hey, I don’t mind! So yay for the smoochies. In fact, I’m a little jealous,” smiled Buffy.

Tara and Willow both looked at her with eyebrows raised.

“Um, that didn’t come out quite the way I meant it,” grimaced Buffy awkwardly.

“I told you she’s been staring at you a lot, Tara,” said Willow, straight-faced. Tara nodded in agreement. “She hasn’t been hitting on you, has she?"

“She did say she liked my top the other day,” added Tara.

“Yes, that red top you were wearing, not...you know, maybe I’d better go. You two have some catching up to do,” announced Buffy, standing up.

“Better put something over the key hole, Tara,” whispered Willow, loud enough for Buffy to hear. Buffy rolled her eyes in mock horror and Willow finally laughed.

“Buffy, where’s Faith?” asked Tara.

Buffy glanced at Willow. She was no longer laughing.

“Faith...left,” sighed Buffy. Tara sat back down on the bed, making herself comfortable.

“Without saying goodbye?” asked Tara, glancing at Willow. Willow kept her eyes on Buffy.

“Uh, well, the thing is...we got into an argument. And it’s all my fault. We...we just had a misunderstanding and kinda fell back into old habits. Let me tell you, we still know how to push each other’s buttons,” sighed Buffy. “I blew it. I really blew it. And Faith knew I would, too."

“Buffy, that’s not fair. Faith was really trying with you. She wouldn’t assume..."

“Willow, she had already packed even before we sat down to talk She knew,” said Buffy, looking down.

“Do you think she’ll come back?” asked Tara.

“I hope so. We said some really harsh things. I didn’t get a chance to apologize,” winced Buffy. She looked up when she heard Willow sigh.

“What?” asked Buffy.

“She didn’t want you to apologize, Buffy. She needed you to forgive her. I think that, even more than her blindness, is the reason she came here,” said Willow.

Buffy closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then nodded.

“Do you? Forgive her?” asked Tara.

Buffy looked at Tara and smiled.

“Guess I should’ve told her yes, even if I didn’t know the answer."

“Why did you fight? What did Faith do?” asked Tara, confused.

Buffy glanced at Willow. Without Tara seeing, Willow twitched her head no. When Buffy answered, she kept her eyes on Willow.

“It’s not what Faith did. That doesn’t matter."

Buffy lowered her eyes and her voice.

“She wanted to help, she just wanted to make things right again. What’s wrong is Faith listened to her heart...and I didn’t understand that. I wasn’t listening,” said Buffy.

“Maybe she’ll come back or, or at least call,” offered Tara.

“I hope so. I’d like to at least say goodbye,” said Willow.

“Maybe she already did,” said Tara, reaching behind Willow. She pulled out a envelope that had been mostly hidden under the pillow. Tara held it up. Only Willow’s name was printed on the front. She handed it to Willow but Willow didn’t take it.

Willow stared at the letter in Tara’s hand then looked to Buffy. Buffy looked away.

“You read it, Tara,” said Willow.

“You sure?"

Willow nodded. Tara tore the envelope open.

“I was wrong. Some things are better left unsaid, if you know what I mean. But I couldn’t go without saying thank you, Willow. You did more than give me back my sight. Maybe you won’t understand, but you gave me hope back. Tara is a very lucky girl. Make sure she knows that. Don’t piss me off by doing something stupid and lose her. Love, Faith."

Tara turned and smiled at Willow. Willow was staring blankly, lost in thought. She suddenly realized that Tara was looking at her. Reaching over, she took her hand and returned her smile.

“She...she signed it love?” asked Buffy.

“Yep,” smiled Tara.

Buffy raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“You two need some time. And I think I’d better shut the door behind me on the way out,” smiled Buffy, causing Tara to giggle.

“Any bad dreams last night?” asked Willow, concerned.

“No. Just a nasty hangover this morning,” said Tara, rolling her eyes. She took a deep breath and frowned. “Willow, it’s not the magic. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t. But you have to promise me something."

“Anything,” whispered Willow gratefully. Tara leaned in and hugged her again.

“No more secrets, no more lies. I need to trust you. Okay?” asked Tara, almost begging.

Willow’s eyes met Buffy’s and they just stared at one another. Willow exhaled very slowly, puffing her cheeks out. Buffy softly shut the door behind her.

*****

Dawn stretched her arms out, reluctantly opening her eyes. Glancing at the clock, she groaned. She sat up in bed and turned around to flip her pillow over, determined to sleep for at least another fifteen minutes. And was surprised to see an envelope with her name printed on it. Dawn tore it open and peered inside, dumping the contents into the palm of her hand. It was a pair of gold stud earrings. She thought for a moment, trying to recall where she had seen them before and then realized they belonged to Faith.

Looking back into the envelope, she pulled out a note and read it.

Hey Dawn. I wanted you to have these. They were given to me when I was about your age, just before I was called to be - well, you know. I’ve managed to keep them all this time and considering how my life has turned out, I think that says something about what they mean to me. It’s a connection to who I was before. So don’t lose one like the other night! Keep an eye on your sister for me. And remember this - she might not tell you, but she needs you. Take care.

Love, Faith.

Dawn could only stare with her mouth open at the earrings in her hand.

*****

She let the water in the sink run to get cold, then filled her glass. She reached for the faucet to turn the water off but hesitated, suddenly fascinated by how the water spun, counterclockwise, swirling before it disappeared down the drain. She didn’t know how long she had been standing there like that, but suddenly a hand reached over and turned the water off. Buffy’s hand. Willow raised the glass to her lips and took a sip.

“Dry mouth. Another side effect from the spell. Not unexpected, just...unpleasant,” shrugged Willow.

“How you doing?” asked Buffy.

“I’m alive,” answered Willow, taking another sip of water so that she didn’t have to look at Buffy.

“It’s a start,” shrugged Buffy. “Will, I wanted to ask you...those words you said, during the spell. What were they?"

“Well, the last one was intrare. It means enter. In layman’s terms I was inviting in whatever was affecting Faith negatively, allowing her aura to balance. Not unlike inviting a vampire into your home, I might add,” said Willow with half a smile.

“Oh. And the first word?” pressed Buffy.

“Um, combined with the blood ritual, basically it meant to bind. I needed a stronger connection with Faith. And...well, obviously it worked,” frowned Willow.

“Obviously,” nodded Buffy uncomfortably.

Willow took a deep breath and lowered her eyes.

“It worked a little too well. That was one reason I got so sick. I kinda took on more than I could chew. Shoulda learned that lesson by now,” sighed Willow.

“I don’t...Will, what do you mean it worked too well?” asked Buffy.

Willow looked up at Buffy and took another deep breath. Buffy raised her eyebrows.

“Remember when Faith told us how she felt in prison? How she, um, couldn’t feel? Like...like she was dead?” winced Willow.

Buffy nodded.

“That was part of the total package. I mean, this was a really strong connection. It’s hard to explain. But...I know. Not only what Faith felt, but what you must be dealing with now,” said Willow, carefully watching Buffy, waiting for her reaction.

Buffy looked down, afraid to look at her.

“Buffy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I never would have...I’m so sorry for what I did to you,” said Willow, her voice breaking.

Buffy still didn’t look at her but wrapped her arms around her in a hug, settling her chin on Willow’s shoulder.

“You know I can’t forgive you, right?” whispered Buffy.

“I know...w-what?” stammered Willow, startled.

Willow eased away, pain twisting her face. Buffy reached down and took both of her hands into her own.

“Because there’s nothing to forgive. I’m grateful. I’m alive because of you. Alive to be with my sister who needs me, alive to be with my best friend who obviously can’t keep out of trouble!"

Willow closed her eyes and smiled but started to cry.

“Thank you. I really mean that,” said Buffy, pulling Willow close again. “And I’m going to get better. I just need some time."

“And I’ll try to stay out of trouble,” sniffed Willow.

“Like that’s going to happen,” laughed Buffy. Even Willow couldn’t help but laugh. Buffy eased away and caught her eye.

“What about Tara? Did you tell her?"

Willow’s pained expression revealed the truth.

“Like Faith said, some things are better left unsaid,” whispered Willow. “You can’t change what happened."

“Willow..."

“Buffy, right now...it’s just...things are going good again. And I’m trying to be so careful, you know? Like turning on a light by using magic instead of just flipping the switch. It’s a habit, a pattern I have to break out of and, and I don’t want to screw up again. I’m walking on eggshells as it is. If she didn’t understand...I just can’t deal with anything else right now,” sighed Willow.

Buffy nodded.

“I’m a bad person,” pouted Willow.

“No. You are not. You’re just scared. And I’m the last person who should be giving advice on talking to people."

“But you’re going to anyway, right?” smiled Willow.

Buffy opened her mouth, then reconsidered.

“No. I don’t think I will.”

*****

Willow opened the door and stuck her head into the steamy room, raising her voice to be heard above the shower.

“Tara, did you move that photo of us? You know, the one that was on my desk?” called Willow.

“No. Why?"

“I can’t find it,” answered Willow. Tara stuck her head out from behind the shower curtain.

“Honey, I never liked that one anyway. You were cute, but I didn’t like my smile. Just find another one. We should put a new one out anyway,” smiled Tara.

“’Cause we’re starting over,” smiled Willow. “You’re right."

“Want to join me,” invited Tara suggestively.

“You big tease! You know we don’t have time. Now get going!” laughed Willow, shutting the door.

Willow sat down at her desk and opened a drawer, thought for a moment, then closed that one and opened another. Reaching in, she withdrew a photo album. Flipping a few pages, she realized that this one wasn’t the one she was looking for, but she smiled at the old photos and turned a few more pages. And she stopped, holding a page in mid-turn.

Homecoming. Someone, maybe Xander, had taken a photo of her and Oz. They weren’t dancing yet. Maybe they were just talking but they were unaware someone was taking their picture. And there, in the background, stood Faith, staring right into the camera. She wasn’t smiling yet she had a certain look about here. It took a moment for Willow to realize what it was.

Faith was confident, sure of herself. Willow hadn’t seen that look on her when she was here. Not once. She ran her finger over the outline of Faith’s dress and shook her head. And then Willow brought her finger slowly up and touched her neck, reliving a moment. She had seen that confident air before...last night, on Tara’s face. But it hadn’t been Tara.

Willow heard the shower shut off and quickly closed the album, slipping it back into the drawer with all those other memories that made up who she was. And then she pushed the drawer tightly shut.

*****

Faith watched the people as they walked by, more to keep herself awake than out of any genuine interest. Still, she deeply appreciated just being able to see them. The bus station was mostly empty at this time of day and she tried to avoid staring at any one person. A young woman, hardly older than Faith, eased herself down on the bench across from her. A very pregnant woman. She glanced at Faith and smiled, resting her hands on her swollen belly. Faith smiled back.

“When are you due?” asked Faith, still smiling.

“Three weeks,” replied the girl, rolling her eyes.

“Wow."

“That about sums it up!” laughed the girl.

“You look great,” nodded Faith sincerely.

“Thanks. It’s been a while since anyone has said that to me,” said the girl, though her smile lost some of its enthusiasm.

Faith tilted her head, puzzled.

“Oh, the father’s out of the picture. I’m heading back home to have the baby. It’s nice to have people there for you, when you need them,” sighed the girl gratefully.

“Yeah. I get that,” agreed Faith.

“Oh! She’s kicking,” grinned the girl.

“She?” asked Faith.

“Yep. Gonna be a girl. Um, you want to feel?” offered the girl.

Faith hesitated, reluctant to move but wanting so much to say yes.

“It’s okay. Really,” encouraged the girl. Faith smiled and quickly got up, sitting down next to her. She moved her hand towards her, unsure of what to do next. The girl took her hand and placed it on the side of her stomach. Faith’s eyes lit up.

“Wow!” grinned Faith, shaking her head. “How do you sleep?"

“Like a cat. A nap here, a nap there. But I don’t mind. Not at all,” smiled the girl, looking down.

Faith awkwardly withdrew her hand.

“Thought of a name yet?” asked Faith.

“No. Can you believe it? Guess I should really get going on that, huh?"

Faith looked at her and then glanced down at her belly again.

“How about Willow?” suggested Faith softly.

“Willow,” repeated the girl. “That’s a pretty name. It’s a tree, isn’t it?"

“Yes, it is. A tree that is much stronger than it looks. When it gets windy, it tends to bend but not break,” said Faith, almost smiling.

“Willow. I’ll keep that one in mind. Thanks,” nodded the girl. “Um, excuse me, but I have to use the bathroom. Again."

She tried to get up but had a little trouble. Faith instinctively stood and helped her, lifting her by the elbow.

“Thanks,” smiled the mom, gratefully. “Hey, it was nice talking to you."

“Yeah. You too,” nodded Faith. “Good luck."

The girl waddled off. Faith realized that she hadn’t even learned her name and felt a sudden compulsion to run after her and ask. And then she wondered why she felt that way.

Faith sat back down on the bench, watching the people around her. She exhaled slowly and slipped her backpack from her shoulders, unzipping it. Reaching in, it only took a moment to find what she was looking for. She held up the photograph, staring at it.

Willow and Tara, standing next to one another, holding hands. Such a simple yet touching gesture, thought Faith. They were both smiling but it seemed to her that Tara seemed a little sad. She ran a finger over Willow, tracing the line of her hair, recalling the scent of sweet strawberry shampoo.

For at least the fourth time that morning Faith looked at the pay phone on the wall. For a long time she just sat there, as if hoping it would ring. She forced herself to look away, wiping a sleeve across her eyes.

Faith tore the photo in half and turned it over, unable to look at it. She gripped the edge and raised it, about to rip it again, but she couldn’t tear the paper. The other half of the photo fell onto the floor at her feet. Flipping the photograph over, she took one last look, sighed, then slipped the torn memory back into her backpack. Standing up, she zipped the backpack closed and flung it over her shoulder.

Faith headed for her bus, walking quickly, leaving Tara and Sunnydale behind.

THE END

Note - There wasn’t much of Xander and Anya in this but they haven’t been in season 6 much lately either.