Part 12

When Willow entered the bedroom, Angel was leaning, shirtless, next to the heavily curtained window. Heart breaking, Willow wondered if he was trying to remember what it was like outside. . .during the day.
Angel turned when he heard her whisper his name.
She was a vision standing in his doorway, burgundy hair discheveled, skin pale, circles under her tired eyes. She was beautiful and he had no doubt that the soul she had givin him belonged fully to her and her alone.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, self-conciously raising a hand to her cheek.
He stepped forward, and took that hand. He kissed her fingertips softly, then placed his hand tenderly on her face, burying his fingers in her hair. She gripped his wrist and leaned her head into his shoulder.
"Oh, Willow," he whispered against her temple. "Please, please. . ." his voice cracked in emotion and he breathed her scent in deeply. "Never run away from me again."
"I'm sorry, Angel," she said desperately. "I was so scared." She looked up at him, eyes half closed with exaustion, yet lit with love and desire. "I'm here," she whispered softly. <Always. I promise.>
Tears stung his eyes at her unspoken message and he kissed her sweetly. She leaned into his strength gratefully, and knew she would be spending the rest of the day in bed. . .
***
"So what does this mean?" He said, staring at the LCD display of Willow's laptop. She snuggled against his bare chest comfortably.
"It means that if we can do this ceremony, we can save them. Not. . ."she swallowed. "Bring them back but let them go."
He nodded. "Tonight."
"Tonight."
***
Willow stared out at the dusky twilight settling over Sunnydale, towel-drying her hair. She could still hear the shower running behind her and she knew that it would be at least another fifteen minutes before Angel was ready. Eternity had not molded him for rushing. . .but Willow decided that when it came to some things, that wasn't neccesarily a bad thing.
She sighed and turned to dress. As always, her friend's faces were a running current beneath her thoughts, even more so tonight. She reached into her bag and pulled out her wallet. Buffy and Xander smiled back at her goofily from the mall photo-booth.
"Oh, Buffy," she whispered. "I wish you were here. There's so much I have to talk to you about. . ."
<Like the fact that I've completely taken over your life.>
The thought hit Willow like ice water. <Oh, my Goddess. . .I have.>
A morbid sort of relief cooled her body, a sensation of realization. She had pinpointed her discomfort from the past few days-- a loss of idenity. A part of her had always half-wished she could be more like Buffy, but on the whole she liked her own person. But now. . .was she more Buffy Summers than she was Willow Rosenberg? How was she supposed to hold onto who she was when everything that had made her that person was gone? What sort of life was she supposed to build when all her foundations were gone?
<Was this what it was like for her?> She had always been Buffy's confidante but she had never really understood the fear before. . .
She snapped out of her thoughts as Angel came back into the bedroom, body bare except for one very small towel wrapped around his waist.
She watched him while he dressed, still half-lost in her own mind. He caught her staring and grinned.
"Ready?" he asked.
<Never> "Yes," she replied.
***
As she walked through the hushed streets of Sunnydale, Angel's cool hand gripped tightly in her's, Willow's thoughts lingered on Buffy, and she realized something she should have done a long time ago. Urgency gripped her tightly, and she stopped walking abruptly.
"What? What's wrong?" Angel asked, turning.
"You go on. I just thought of something. . .it's important. I'll meet you at the library, okay?" Seeing the doubt and suprise on his face, she kissed him, hard and fast. "I promise."
As she trotted off into the night, she called over her shoulder. "I'll see you there. I love you."
***
Willow touched the doorframe of the Summers' house gently, enjoying the feel of the smooth oak wood beneath her fingers. A local realtor's for sale sign hung limply in the front yard.
The door was unlocked.
"Mrs. Summers?" she called into the darkened house. "It's me, Willow."
Silence met her, then a weak, almost whispered reply: "Willow?"
She walked up the stairs slowly, trying not to see the packing boxes and bare walls. She met Joyce Summers in the hallway, just outside Buffy's room.
"Willow," she whispered again, then caught the young woman in a fierce hug.
***
Joyce's wet eyes looked away. "Not you, too."
Willow swallowed. "I shouldn't have told you."
"No, I'm glad you did." She reached out and took one of Willow's hands. "Please promise me you'll be careful."
Tears flooded Willow's eyes and she nodded painfully. Mrs. Summer's looked wistfully at the bare room filled with boxes marked "Storage".
"She was such a light. . ." she whispered to herself. She shut her eyes for a moment, then focused on Willow. "I don't know what I'm going to do with her things."
"Where are you going?" Willow asked.
She sighed. "Up north. To stay with my parents for a while, I think. After that. . .Who knows?"
Willow nodded, always a good listener. Joyce sighed. "I'm glad I knew. That she was the Slayer. I don't think I could have just accepted this. . .out of the blue. It's better. This way--I was prepared." Her voice choked and she brought a shaky hand to her mouth. "Oh, God, my baby girl."
Willow wrapped her arms around the older woman's frail body."She'll be alright, Joyce," she whispered."I'll make sure of it. I promise."
***

Part 13

"A triumvirant casting? On something this big?" Giles asked skeptically.
"Who do you have in mind for a fourth? Amy-rat? Some Goth teen who *thinks* they're a witch? Anya the unbalanced love demon? Let's face it, Sunnydale's wicca population gets killed off pretty quick."
"Point taken. How do you plan to stabalize the circle?"
"I'm going to set up wards once we draw it in. That should keep any creepies from getting out while protecting us from the outside."
"You're going to bind evil energy, release two spirits, open the Hellmouth, and retain wards, all at the same time?"
"Multi-tasking," Willow replied brightly.
"Oh, dear Lord."
***
Willow cast the basic circle easily, but it thrummed with an energy she had never tryed to control before. Butterflies jumped at her stomach.
She knelt between Giles and Angel, arranging her legs in a quasi-lotus position. She took each of their hands in hers, and found both their touches comforting in different ways.
She had decided to skip a summoning spell-- if she was right, the energy should be attracted simply by the fact that they were opening a Hellmouth. If she was wrong, the library was about to turn into a rave for the undead.
Willow's voice was sweet and clear as she began the incantation, but she felt distinctly. . .funny. Lighter almost, as if she were being spread out in darkness. She gripped Angel's hand tighter, trying to anchor herself. A thought floated to her from the abyss :<I believe in you, Willow.>. She shivered as it reached her, and her voice became stronger.
The ground shifted slightly, and it looked to Willow that the back wall of the library was moving backwards, away from them. She continued chanting, soothed by the rhythm, yet ready. . .
When it hit, it was bad. Darkness whispered in, and for a minute, she thought she might loose her mind if she looked at it. And if it touched her. . .
She let it touch her, though, let it close enough to spring the wards.
<It's not going to work,> she thought frantically, as she felt the energy tangling in her hair, stinging her eyes.
<I believe in you, Willow>
She shut her eyes, tight, and concentrated.
The wards, tranluscently indigo, shot up around them. Something screamed
<Ignore it>
and Willow hoped it wasn't her.
The Hellmouth was opening
<believe>
and the vibrations were ripping Willow apart. Giles gripped her hand, crushing it, and she got the impression he might be
<no, Giles>
crying. The rose quartz at her ankle screamed and shattered. Willow searched
<this is more than I can do>
for any bit of light in the dark. . .
. . .and found it.
<Hold onto it, Willow, hold it oh Goddess, don't let it go.>
But the gold had only glinted in her searchlights and then dissapeared back into the despair. To go after it
<I will lose>
would be to risk everything.
<I love you, Willow. . .What would I do without you. . .Willow!. . .>
It was not Angel's voice this time, but Xander's, in her memory. And Buffy's.
Willow went into the darkness to save them.
***
Willow no longer existed. There was no air in her lungs, or blood in her veins. There was only thick darkness, pressing her soul to death.
<I am here>
Her mind was numb and refused to explain where here was,
<others>
or what her purpose there was.
<are here>
Willow spread out, touching the ice around her, afraid to explore it but doing so none the less. She felt a ripple approaching her, but when it hit, she was unprepared. . .
***
"Hey, Wills."
"Hi, Xander." She found herself remarkably unsuprised to be sitting next to her friend. "You're dead."
He nodded. "I know."
"Am I?"
Xander bit into his bannana. "Don't think so."
"You know, this place. . ." She looked around at their lush tropical surroundings. She could only guess, but from the white beaches and diamond waters, they were in Taihiti. ". . .Looks damn nice, considering you're supposed to be in hell."
"Appearences can be decieving." He threw away the bananna peel.
"You look good. For being dead and all."
Xander looked down at his bare chest. "Really. I didn't think dying would be that good for my tan, but hey, look at me. Sporting the sun god look."
"Where's Buffy?"
"Over there--" he gestured behind him. He was eating another bannana.
"Where?"
"In the water," he said, standing. "C'mon. Let's get this over with."
Willow rose and dusted the sand from her butt. Xander didn't have a grain on him. He also wasn't making footprints.
He led her through some vegetation (She kept a sharp look out for dart frogs) until they reached a waterfall spilling gloriously into a lagoon.
She still didn't see Buffy.
"Xander?" she questioned.
He stared at the clear water. "When we woke up, we were in each other's arms. It was beautiful. . . She was beautiful. I was happy, Willow, and so was she. Then one day, we were standing right here, and she pointed at the water and said 'Look". So I looked and. .. .there was nothing. At least not at first." There was a cool wind in his eyes. "Then I saw it. This huge, blue pearl covering the bottom. It was. . .indescribable. It was like," he swallowed. "Finding home. Being loved. I had to touch it, just once, and she agreed. So we dove in. What could hurt us, right? We were immortal. She reached it first . . .and it opened for her. It drew her in and all of a sudden, I couldn't move. She started screaming, I could hear it even through the water I could hear it, and all around me it was boiling. Then the pearl, it just closed over. . .I could see her face through it, but it didn't matter how hard I swam, I couldn't reach her, couldn't save her. . .I died again that day, and ev!
ery day since, Willow."
Willow looked into the silky water. She could see something below the surface. "Xander?"
"It's you, Willow."
"I know."
***
From the top of the waterfall, the ground was miles away. Willow took her shirt off with no self-counciousness. This was Xander. She had found him. She kicked her shoes off, too.
"I can only show you the way," he said, monotone.
She swallowed, hard. This
<hurts too damn much>
was impossible.
"Will I ever see you again?" she asked.
"Not yet." he answered cryptically, then smiled. "But again comes again. You were neat, Willow."
She was crying, but that was okay. "So were you, Xander. I love you."
"I love you." He reached for her hand. It was firm, nice to hold onto, like she remembered.
"I'll miss you," she said. "There's so much I want to tell you." She did, too. She thought how nice it would be to just sit there with him in the sunlight and talk, like they had used to. But it was inevitable; the thing at the bottom would not go away.
"Save her. She needs you."
He kissed her on the cheek.
They turned, together, and jumped.
And, as Willow flew through the weightless air, surrounded by golden light, Xander's hand clutched in her own, she found true joy.
When she hit the water, she was ready.

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