Sang et Ivoire

By Holly

Chapter Thirty-Four

"So, B finally got it in her to go postal." The voice was one they had heard a thousand times, knew to expect, and still managed to send vibrations of recollection throughout the room. "I always knew this day was coming. There's no way anyone could be that wholesome without eventually-"

Much had changed since Faith last stood in the foyer of 1630 Revello Drive. A sort of grown maturity hung about her character, but not enough to make any substantial difference. There was no question concerning the opinion of those whose presence she now relied on. Despite the pledge of good confidence Angel issued time and time again, the hostility surrounding her had not alleviated much, if at all. For what she had done in the past was unforgivable in many lights, contradicting the nature of their falling foundation, but not without merit. However her intentions might have altered, however her mortality might have blossomed, the Sunnydale residents would always see her in a very different light.

Xander coughed loudly. "I hate to burst your bubble because I know how long you've waited to see her fail, but what happened to her wasn't her fault."

"Still singin' the same old song, I see," Faith retorted darkly, sizing him up with her eyes. "I don't blame you. Really, I didn't mean anything by it. I just-"

"Yeah. You just." With a sigh, Harris turned to Willow, who was leaning glumly against the hall entry. "Have I mentioned recently how much I hate this plan?"

"Not for about seven minutes," she answered. "Almost a record."

He grinned proudly. "Well, that's an accomplishment, if I ever heard one. I was only aiming for three." The casual tease abandoned his eyes without motive and he looked back at the dark-haired Slayer. "You do know you're only here for negotiations, right? As in no stakey the Buffy."

Faith flexed her brows suggestively. "Gee, Harris. Welcome to the conversation. Yeah, Wes went over the full about a thousand times on the way to the airport. Any more, and I swear he would've given me a pop quiz. I'm here to hold, not to kill. Got the full jist and all that BS." Sighing emphatically, she rolled her eyes and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "So... aside from postal Buffy, how is everyone? Long time no-"

"Don't even finish that sentence," Xander warned. "We're not going to socialize and become all friendly-like. If memory serves, that leads to badness in the worst of ways."

Willow smiled slightly. "Because there's a badness in the best of ways."

"Yeah..." He blinked and tossed her a cynical smirk. "A big bucket of funny as always. I'm just saying-"

"Listen, I don't want to get into a big whatever while I'm here," Faith said stridently. "Just don't talk about the past, and I won't be the bitch who won't get off your ass, all right? Angel thinks I'm all right. That should be-"

"Peaches also thinks all that gel makes 'is hair look less wankerish." William was coming down the staircase. However long he had been there was anyone's presumption. It was natural and assumed he climbed in through the long neglected window in Buffy's bedroom. "'Course, we all know tha's the not the case, so no use in coverin' it up." His eyes narrowed with scrutiny at the sight of the new arrival, and he drew in a huff of air. "Well, you must be Faith. 'S somethin' to meet you, face to face, that is."

She grinned tightly, violent gaze flickering with amused recognition. "Oh yeah. William the Bloody with a chip in his head. How the fuck are yah?"

"Lil sore, thanks for askin'."

The pause allotted Willow enough time to spring from her position and sail into his arms. William fell back at the force of her hug, constrictive with relief and burden of carried anxiety. "Oh God, you're home," she gasped.

The term home was used with such lenience that he made him stop in reflection, but it was best not to dwell on such things. A smile tickled his lips as he patted her back with lasting gentility. "Tha's right. Come on, Red. Don' tell me you were worried or what all. I got more stones than-"

"Don't try to be all tough guy on me," she warned, pulling out of his embrace. "Angel and I... when she left... when she carried you out."

"'Ey there. 'S all right. I'm still undead an' all." The friendship he had with Willow was one casual observes would never understand, but they had long ago agreed to stop questioning.

"I'll keep that in mind," she replied, grinning expressively. "It'll sure keep me from aging a year a night. The next time you get kidnapped by a crazed vampire, no worrying from me."

"Good. See that it stays that way."

Xander stepped forward and grasped William's hand without pretense. The act itself was sufficiently formal to avoid awkwardness, but still wholly surprising. Despite all acts of presumed disliking, enough esteem was held to establish the foundation of mutual respect and acceptance. The vampire thought it better not to question a show of hospitality.

"Glad you got out," Harris said as they broke apart. "Where's Angel?"

"Still climbin' in," he replied. "Saw some vamps prattlin' 'round down the street. 'E'll be 'ere soon enough."

"Did you guys see her?" Faith asked. "I mean, obviously you saw her. If I'm about to go against a fucking pissed off slayer turned vamp, I'm gonna need the inside scoop. 'Specially since I've been outta the game a couple years. How mental has she gone?"

"Giles said something to the affect of Reagan MacNeil, but not as likeable," Xander offered. "Or you, without a conscience."

She arched her brows at him challengingly.

"And while... PMSing?"

"Harris..." she said warningly. "You don't even wanna know how close I am to-"

"And for everyone who doesn't want her to finish that sentence," Willow intervened quickly. "Let's get back on topic. Sp... William, did you or Angel get hurt or something? We probably want to make sure every one of the Scoobies is all in preparation mode for the big evil." A frown beset her face. "I just never thought that..."

"None of us did, Red. An' no... Peaches is fine, though I think his pride 'as been better," the vampire replied, running a hand through strands of bleached hair. "I wasn' there to see everythin'. But she 'ad 'im on the floor... or the other way around. Either way, he was losin' his gall."

The Witch's eyes darkened. "What did she do?"

A wave of silence overcame him, hurt but understanding. "I wasn' there to see everythin'," he explained when he found his voice. "But 'e told me enough. Apparently, Prophy's itchin' for a new playmate."

Xander's brows arched. "Porphy?"

William smirked beside his poignancy. "Gave 'er a nickname while she entertained 'erself. Had to. Couldn't stand to call 'er Buffy."

"So you chose... Porphy."

"From Browning, right?" Willow asked helpfully. "He had a poem about some girl or her lover... or something to do with a girl and her lover."

"Yeh. Took a chapter outta that tale."

She beamed proudly and nudged Xander's shoulder. "Who says you learn nothing in high school?"

"No one by your name, for sure," he replied. "And did we read that in high school?"

A grin overwhelmed her features. A good, honest grin. It was nice to see, especially given extreme circumstances. "Well, most of us read. Some of us napped."

Faith's gaze had not wavered from William. With forceful intent, she stepped forward. "She wanted a new playmate, huh? What kind of playmate?"

The vampire looked down again as if to hide his reaction. A long beat passed as he collected his thoughts. "It wasn' her," he began, voice steady, though kept as though he was trying to convince himself above all others. "Tha's the important thing."

Something dark flashed behind the new Slayer's gaze, and she paced forward once more. "What did you mean by playmate? Did she hurt Angel?"

At that, William rolled his eyes and released a long, expecting chuckle. "Another sodding Peaches groupie," he observed. "Bloody typical. Well, pet, you tell me what I meant. Shouldn't be too mysterious. 'E has a retractable soul, unlike yours truly. She... well, she..."

Immediately, Willow stepped forward, placing a complacent arm on his shoulder. "She didn't mean anything by it. Well, sure... she did... but not Buffy. You know she would never-"

He grinned at her concern. "This isn't about me, Red, much as I 'preciate the notion. I knew the minute I saw 'er that she wasn' the Slayer. She's jus' tryin' to run amuck, and sod all 'f I let 'er."

It was most obvious that Faith had not heard a word beyond the confirmation of Buffy's actions against the elder vampire. The look on her face was one created by sweet retribution. A frontage not seen justified in accordance with her nature. She flexed her hand to wan away tension and was all but trembling with outrage when she spoke again. "That fucking bitch. Doesn't she know what... good, God, I'll-"

"Judge not lest ye be judged, oh hypocritical one," Xander snapped defensively. "And she has an excuse. Last time I checked you tried to make Angel go bonkers because there was nothing better to do."

William coughed to deter attention, but no one looked at him.

"And as Spike so adequately stated," Harris continued, "you're not dealing with Buffy. If Buffy was here, you'd still be wasting away in LA. Whoever it is... Porky... Porphy... or-"

"Porphyria," William said. "An' 'e's right. I should know. I wouldn't 'ave jammed 'er full of crossbow 'f any part of that was the Slayer."

At that, everyone in the room glanced at him dubiously. It took only that announcement, minor as it was, for Xander's eyes to go blank and the previously manifest support to crash with a conclusive bang. "You what?!"

"She was about to off Peaches. I 'ad no choice." The peroxide vampire backtracked once he assessed that he had stepped into foreign territory. "She's still undead too, mate. I wouldn't 'ave done somethin' so bloody stupid. I give yah, Angel's my grand-sire an' all, but I don' like the poof all that much. I won' kill this bird until I know there's no chance. Until I know that..."

"Until we know she's not coming back," Willow acknowledged with a sigh.

"Yeh. I told you... or... whoever, after the lot of you brought 'er back, 'f there'd been somethin' wrong an' you had to get rid of what you got that I wouldn't let you. Not if the slightest bit of 'er was still... her." William waited for Xander's nod of recollection. "'F we can't get her back, an' tha's for certain, I'll do it. I'll kill my love's murderer. Not one part of that thing is Buffy."

"You'll have to beat me there, pal," Faith growled. "I gotta right mind to-"

It was rash and poorly played; not to mention it left a burning headache. William's hand shot out without thought, clasping the other Slayer's throat. The hold lasted all of two seconds - cut off in mutual regard to the swift kick at his chest and the retraction to cradle his head in pain. He found himself on the stairs, caressing the tender skin at his brow.

"What's the big fucking deal, bitch?" she snapped, rubbing her throat though he had not held on long enough to produce any marks.

William wouldn't even meet her eyes; he was tremulous with too much fury. Flashing a quick, fiery glance to Willow - who was quaking, herself, at the sight of such an outburst - he commanded, "I don' want that crazy bint anywhere near my Slayer."

"She's not your Slayer!" Xander said hotly. "I don't care who you are. Even if she was Buffy, she never was-"

"I don' have time to prattle around with nancy-boy technicalities," the vampire snapped. "That bird doesn' wanna help. She's out for blood."

"Well, so are you!" Faith yelled back. "William the Pussy-Whipped Bloody. Mr. I-Got-A-Soul-But-I'm-So-Gosh-Darned-Afraid-To-Use-It. Make accusations that you can follow; it's a good hint. Nothin' else coulda made you snap B with a crossbow. I guaran-damn-tee you that."

"She was gonna kill your savior, sweetheart," he retorted indignantly. "But 'm not about to end 'er right good. Not while she stands a chance."

"Hello! Neither am I. Back the fuck off."

"You 'ave before."

The other Slayer's eyes went wide with the sting of accusation. "Jesus-Tap-Dancing-Christ, I've been on the goddamned honor role longer than you have. If we're gonna play that game, Willy, then let me go right ahead and crown you the winner. You arrogant bastard. I'm bad to the bone, baby, and likely will be forever. I'm all five by five. Secure in it. At least I know that. I can accept it. You're lost, pops. Don't think they haven't told me about you."

The platinum vampire perked a brow. "You're five by five?" he repeated. "As opposed to six by six? What the bloody hell does that mean?"

Xander snickered in spite of himself. Willow elbowed him.

Faith rolled her eyes and stepped back, hands going up in frustration. "I knew there was a reason I hated Brits," she observed. "I knew it. If they're not all over your back because of the stupid world, they're annoying you in the highest degree."

"Well," Harris said with a shrug. "He's Spike. That's what he's good for." Again, the Willow elbowed him.

"Doesn't even matter that I have something helpful to tell you people," she continued, speaking as though recording an inward monologue. "Go ahead. Bang! Ruin the fun of the surprise. Faith's a big a screw-up as always. I-"

It was then that Angel appeared at the top of the stairway. "Whoa," he said bluntly. "Looks like I've interrupted a hell of a party."

William glanced at him with masked agitation. "Welcome aboard, Peaches. We're jus' 'avin' a lil debate. Seems your girl 'ere thinks the best way to deal with our problem is through a pointy piece of wood."

Xander and Willow immediately latched onto Faith's arms so she wouldn't lunge. "That's not what I said, you-"

"Stop it! Sheesh, and I thought you two would get along." The elder vampire rolled his eyes and started downward to join them. "Of course, I didn't take into affect that... well... no one gets along with Spike if they can help it. And that-"

"Psh. Right, you ponce," his childe scoffed bitterly. "See 'f I go outta my way to save your hide again."

"Save it, Spike." Angel turned to Faith and nodded slowly, motioning for her captors to release. There was no threat anymore, if there ever had been. "You have something to share?"

Arms crossed, she tossed a wry look in William's direction, distaste spelled across her features in bright bold ink. "If Billy Idol here doesn't have any more notes of wisdom to spiel to your goody-gooders, then yeah. I do." She arched her brows at the younger vampire in challenge, and though he met her stare blow for blow, he did not speak. "Wes's got a lead. Well, he's waiting. He said he'll be here sometime tomorrow but to go on without him anyway. That's why he didn't get here when I did."

Angel nodded. "What's the lead?"

At that, the Slayer grinned - a smile so pure and similarly frightening that it could scare a toddler into giving up an ice-cream cone. "Orb of Thesulah, baby. In the fucking house. He called around like crazy and found a magic store that still sells 'em." Her eyes flickered back to the platinum vampire, dulling and brightening simultaneously. "Which is what I mean when I said I would not kill her, you dick. I won't. Not unless this stupid curse thing doesn't work out."

William shook his head, unwilling to admit that his heart would have leapt at the news if it had the capacity to beat. There could be no thought of hope. Not until he saw her eyes again and knew her for Buffy. Knew that all would be well. Still, the hostility left his tone. There was no place for it anymore. "You're forgettin' one thing, pet," he observed.

She snickered at him. "What's that?"

"Buffy wasn't your number one fan when she was all soul - an' for that matter - pulse-havin'," he said. "Now she's a wicked powerful Slayer/vamp hybrid with a nasty grudge. Even if she had put it all behind 'er, the Porphyria thing she is now 's gonna remember you as that bird who got on 'er bad side. Me an' Peaches 'ere were on 'er good side. Imagine what she'd do to you."

A flash of fear - small but detectable - blazed across her eyes. Then it was back to boasting, confidence, smiling as if the entire matter was of no consequence. "Yeah, well, she'll have to get through-"

"Wait a second, Faith," Angel intervened, stepping beside her and grasping her shoulder. "He does have a point. You haven't been in active training mode for some time now. She could very well-"

"Who cares?" the Slayer replied airily. "I got the moves, I got the skills. She better watch her bony ass out. I'll drop her so quick-"

"You couldn't beat her before," he said, and the color drained from her face. "I didn't want to say it, but there it is. You tried and she gutted you. She's been training hard for years since you were put away. She has resources now that you can't possibly fathom. She-"

"All right! Jesus H. Christ, give a girl a break." Faith stepped out of his reach, hand combing nervously through her hair. "So what do I do? Sit from the sidelines while the rest of you give a go at it? I don't think so. This is my calling, you miserable fucks, and I intend to do something with it."

Angel shook his head and seized hold of her arm once again. "I wasn't suggesting you don't."

"Then what the hell were you suggesting?"

"That Spike and I go with you to keep Buffy in line." He eyed William for approval; though it was obvious he didn't care if it was granted. "Just to make sure things go well."

"Yeah. Me and Vamp Buffy dukin' it out in the streets of Sunnydale," she retorted cynically. "What makes you think anything could go wrong?"

"We'll be there," the platinum vampire said. "We sure as hell oughta be."

Faith's brows arched skeptically. "Do you honestly think she'll show with all of us there? She might be bloodthirsty, but B's not stupid."

"We'll be there... just to watch," Angel clarified. "And stop her from... well..."

A smile crossed her face. "Vamping me?"

"Killing you." Xander's eyes narrowed and he stepped forward. "She wouldn't vamp someone she considers an enemy. Remember the entire 'not stupid' thing? Yeah... it applies for that, too."

"Well, whatever. I just know I'll give her something to scream about." At that, she frowned. "So, what? If we're not here to slay, then why the fuck did they drag my ass out of LA?"

"You're questioning your temporary freedom?" Willow asked.

"Oh, is that what you think? No. It's good to be back in ole SunnyD. Got a lot of fond memories and all that sentimental crap. And I get the entire 'Wes is coming to save the day - yippee.' But still... what do ya'll need me? We go out and make sure... what?"

"That she doesn't hurt anyone," the Witch replied. "If the curse works, Buffy won't be able to live with herself if she-"

"Oh, right. Goody two-shoes Summers." A foray of piercing looks persuaded the Slayer to discontinue the thought. "Right. Whatever. We'll deal."

"When will Wes be here?"

"If we're lucky," Angel observed, "he'll show tomorrow."

At that, William scoffed bitterly. "When have we ever been lucky?"

The air grew thick with silent acceptance. No one attempted a reply.

*~*~*

All grew quiet on the home front.

However long they stayed up talking, Dawn didn't know. For hours, it seemed, she had lied in the wake, tears crusted against raw and reddened cheeks. She suspected no one realized how acutely voices drifted through walls and vents in the house. In the days of her youth, she had trained herself to be a connoisseur of deciphering the various muffled vowels and brief silences. It had not taken long to become fluent in the art of eavesdropping. From this vantage point, she had listened Buffy sneak a vampire into her room. Had listened as an impossible alliance between two enemies was forged to bring down a mutual adversary. It was irrefutable; there was only one place to get all the dirt - the hot gossip. This was it.

They didn't know how much she could hear. No one did.

Dawn sighed, a lone tear rolling down her cheek, filling ruts carved into puffy skin. It timed perfectly with the tremor that quaked through her body. Never in her life had she felt this much desperation - the desolate sensation of utter abandonment. In the past, despite how bad things got, there had always been someone to rely on. A sister to cling to. Even during the months following Buffy's sacrifice, she had never thoroughly experience the coarse reality of arbitrary desertion. Giles had been there. And Spike. And Willow. And Tara. Arguably, nothing had changed, though all felt different. Notwithstanding the deceiving frontage and what her subconscious willed her to believe, the vampire she had trusted with more than her life was gone. She knew William would die protecting her, but it wasn't the same.

The person she depended most upon had disappeared as well. Gone in the worst of ways. Gone but still there. Gone, but in Sunnydale. Ruining lives, destroying families, maiming the innocent all the while hating her. It seemed poignantly fitting. After all, Buffy had always been there. When Glory had her hostage, the solitary thought that kept her resolve from diminishing was that her sister was out there and would stop at nothing to get her back. What was to happen when she became the target of the hunt? Vampire or not, she was certain the Slayer was consistent in one thing: she would not stop. She would never give up. Never.

Without realizing it, Dawn had started crying again. More than simple sorrow, more than any measure of grief could feasibly express. She sobbed when there were no more tears to offer, gasped for air that hovered above her with mocking objectivity. She could not cry enough - she could not cry at all. Whatever there was to offer in the cruel face of humanity, she lacked in full. Everything was stripped away, rendering her cold, barren, and alone.

It was then it came rasping. A small and obscure tapping, at the face of her chamber door. Dawn's eyes flew open and she fought to maintain control over her release, but nature had none to offer.

Another tapping. Feather-light. Knocking, inquiring, at her...

She sat up, eyes shooting to the projection of light cast under the door. No one stood there. Whatever it was had to be a conjecture of her overly active imagination. Her hope was becoming too strong. It would do little good to-

It came again - louder this time. Strident and demanding. She heard the metallic hissing in her gasp and her froze in her chest. The sound was intruding from the window, not the door. The window where there sat, perched on a sturdy tree branch, the deceptively neutralizing persona of her dead sister.

Which came first - panic or relief - she was not certain. It had been days since she last saw Buffy. Days that somehow transpired to weeks and ultimately to years. Her blood coursed with the taste of reaction, and without thinking, she edged to her feet and pushed the frame open. Cool night air kissed the wetness on her face and nearly ripened her body to stone.

She was not sure who she was looking at, or what. The image was Buffy, but those were not her sister's eyes. A smile that dripped with falsified compassion was etched tightly on her face. When Dawn was nearly convinced that there was nothing there - that her sight had finally failed her - the being leaned forward and stretched her hand to explore the invisible barrier between them.

She didn't get far. A low hum announced her collusion with a boundary compressed of nothing; she frowned and pulled away, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear. "I can't believe those guys," she muttered in aggravation. "What, is this punishment for me locking them out of the house? They have some bizarre foundation for grudges, I tell you. You'd think people would learn to grow up every now and then."

That was all the prompt she required. Dawn leapt to her feet, backing strategically from the window. "Get out of here," she ordered, trying to sound strong. Her throat hummed with the taste of nervousness, but she did not let it distract her.

The look she received in reply was enough to break anyone. A patented Buffy look. Brokenhearted - hurt beyond reproach. "Dawnie," she pleaded. "Please let me in. Don't recognize me? It's me... it's-"

No, that couldn't be allowed. Furiously, she clasped her hands over her ears and shook her head and fervent denial. "Liar!"

"Dawn-"

"No. No! Get out of my room, you motherfucking liar!" She was screaming so hard she was certain her plight could be heard for miles. Perhaps that was the reason the thundering up the stairs failed to register to her conscious. "You evil bitch! Get out of here!"

Her bedroom door flew open, but she did not turn to greet her guests. Without having to look, she understood. Cold comfort swept her insides with all the joyless relief it could offer.

"Looky, looky," William drawled from behind. "'Ello, luv."

Another voice. Angel. "Get out of here, Buffy."

That was all it took for the look of presumed innocence to slip from her face. An expression as malevolent as any to befall her sister's character beset her achingly familiar features. Then the thing was laughing. Cackling. Making viciously delightful fun of her misery. "I should have known the brigade would come a runnin'," she observed. "I must say, I've trained you all very, very well. That was impressive."

Dawn heard Willow gasp. "Oh God." The pre-empted sound of tears was in her voice.

Xander was next. His resolution was as wobbly as any, but he managed to hold his ground. "No... that's not-"

"Oh," the Buffy-creature spat. "Let me guess. Your line's going to be... 'that's not her.' Do you have any conceivable notion how many times I've heard that in the past couple days? Really, you guys should look into getting a new slogan."

The last to enter the exchange was the furthest away, similarly she with the most hostility to her name. "Where is she?" Faith growled, pushing people out of the way in a frenzied hurry to get up front. "I swear to-"

The Buffy-creature's eyes widened when she saw her. "Holy fuck," she said. "I had no idea you guys had gotten this desperate. It's kind of flattering... in a 'you must really have a death wish' way."

Faith's gaze flickered dangerously. "Get out of here, B."

"Or you'll what? Go into another coma?"

At that, the other Slayer assumed one of her notorious poises, leaning far to the left with her hand on her hip. "Maybe dying a third time gave you some serious brain cancer or somethin'," she suggested. "I coulda sworn I told you to leave. And yet, you're still there. Nothing a good staking couldn't fix."

William and Angel must have tensed, for the Buffy-creature looked appraisingly in their direction. "Still talking big, I see," she replied, eyes homing in. "Well, I'm ready to dance if you are. Honestly, Faith, I don't see why you think you stand a slightest chance. I mean... you couldn't beat me before. What the hell makes you think you could now?"

The other Slayer didn't even flinch. "I've discovered the perks to forming strong alliances."

"Get out of here, Buffy." Angel again. Voice low in warning.

"Oh, threats from the big boy now. Is your bodyguard on break?" She gestured to William in amusement. "Don't see a crossbow anywhere."

"Don't tempt me, pet," the Cockney growled. "Wouldn't want to do anythin' rash."

"Let me guess... because you're not Spike?" She frowned at the elder vampire. "And to think... I came so close to getting you back to being fun again. But-"

Faith was losing her patience. In honesty, Dawn was surprised she had lasted this long. With an emphatic step forward, she produced a cross harbored in her left hand and waved it at the window. The effect was pleasing; the Buffy-creature hissed and vamped and lost balance, collapsing to the ground below.

"Yeah!" Xander yelped. "Take that, Porky!"

William glanced at him with domed brow.

"I mean Porphy!"

Faith leaned out the window and chucked the sacred emblem with supreme marksmanship. Dawn didn't look but her sister's cry of pain brought enough realism to the scenario for anyone to challenge.

Then the Slayer was yelling idle threats - things she knew would never come to be. No one was staking Buffy. Not while a chance remained that Buffy could be rescued.

"That ballsy little bitch," Faith muttered as she drew back inside. "Didn't figure she'd come by here."

"I did," Angel whispered. "She had to eventually."

"I should go out. We all should." She motioned to William broadly. "Whaddya say? Think she's going out for dinner?"

"She already ate, pet," the platinum vampire observed. "But that won' stop 'er from reaping all kinds of hell. All right... patrolling it is. Come on, Peaches."

There was no sense in feeling abandoned now; Dawn understood they were doing what was needed. Still, her body was trembling far too hard to be discarded in consequence. Willow was at her side immediately, arms around her and persuading her head to find purchase at her shoulder. "It's all right," she whispered emptily, not attempting to conceal the doubt behind her voice. "It'll be all right. I promise. No tears, no tears. You got graduation tomorrow! There can be no tears at graduation!" Her voice was clogged with a wealth of emotion that the Witch could not deny. "Well... unless they're happy tears, of course."

She wouldn't be able to live up to that. Not now. Not after everything.

Not when it was time to brave the night.

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