Spike held back, a bit shy, as they ascended the metal staircase that led to where Buffy was resting. His hands were buried deep within his jacket clutching hopelessly to the soft leather, trying to brace himself for all the horrors Willow had forewarned him lay inside.

Buffy’s room had originally been the manager’s office, divided into three smaller segments with cubical walls in dull grays and navy blues. It held a large window that looked out on the factory, giving the boss a bird’s eye view of his workers productivity, but since taking over residence the Scoobies had new blinds installed and kept them tightly shut at all times. Originally the idea was to use this space as a sick room, not belonging to one person in particular but rather the group at large. When Buffy became the soul occupant was hard to say, but now it was simply her room, no question about it.

Spike could smell her scent and he inhaled deeply as Willow paused, perched on the top step and rapped softly on the door. There was a muffled reply of "come in" and Willow swung open the door, sparing a small smile for the blonde vamp.

The room was warm, hot air seeming to choke on entry. A small brass lamp was glowing on a stack of milk crates, which served as both a bookcase and an end table. Xander rose from the worn lounger where he had been quietly reading to Buffy. He hastily shoved the copy of Great Expectations behind him.

"Hey." Willow smiled at her best friend, a hint of warning in her green eyes to play nice. "How’s she doing?"

Spike missed Xander’s reply as he felt a wave of bile rise up in his throat and fought to push it down. The sour taste filled his mouth as he stared at the figure on the small twin bed. Tucked behind a small divider of navy blue lay Buffy. Standing in the doorway and you would never see anything but the ratty brown chair, a small dresser bare of all knickknacks, and the milk cartons which seemed to be the only running theme throughout the building. It was only when you entered, lungs filling with stifling warm air that you could see this waif of a girl sleeping.

Spike felt a hand reach out over his chest to stop him, probably Xander the back of his mind registered but he pushed forward, coming to stand over her. This wasn’t Buffy, it couldn’t be. The once glistening strands of golden blonde hair, spilled around her dull and lifeless. She was tucked in with heavy comforters up to her shoulders, but by the way her collarbones jutted through her skin, she was obviously not eating. Dark circles marred her face, skin so porcelain white she looked like a china doll, her lips cracked and dry despite the pitcher of water perched with a glass beside the bed. Spike had seen Buffy hurt before, seen her crazy, seen her come out of a fight battered and bloody but he had never seen her look so beaten before.

There was no spark of life in her at all, her chest seemed frozen, not rising with each breathe. "Is she-? I mean she’s still-?"

Willow stepped beside him. "It’s just a sleeping drought. It lasts for 12 hours. Lets her get her rest." She explained. "Kind of makes her look…"

"Dead?" Xander piped up, from behind the redhead.

"Well I was gonna go with pale, but I guess yours works too-" Willow scrunched up her face. "In a blunt sort of way."

It was then that Spike realized why the room was so damn warm. Buffy began shivering uncontrollably, her body twitching in an effort to warm itself despite the heap of blankets that lay across her. Xander was at her side in an instant, grabbing a pan from the hot plate and dipping a damp rag in it and wiping off Buffy’s face with the warm water. He rubbed his hands together vigorously, and then placed the palm of one flush against her forehead, his thumb trailing soothingly across her brow. After a moment she stopped shivering and reverted to her limp state.

Xander rose, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. "It’s been getting worse. I would raise the heat some more but I’m worried that she will end up a crispy piece of Buffy bacon if it gets much hotter. So I thought I’d just try to keep her warm…" He shook his head sadly, looking to Willow, as Spike desperately wished he had some warmth to bestow upon his love.

"You should have come and got me." Willow scolded as she stepped outside the divider, rummaging around for something.

"Well, I would’ve but you were with Captain Peroxide here. I didn’t feel like interrupting that wonderful little Hell." Xander shot back.

Willow came out, checking her watch as she did so, a small vile clutched in her other hand. "Doesn’t matter. She can’t have another dose for at least 30 minutes."

"Another?" Xander looked at her skeptically and then noticed the tiny green glass bottle in her small hand. "You gave her that?! What are you nuts? Don’t you even remember how dangerous that stuff is?"

"I remember." Replied Willow huffily. "But this isn’t like last time. And besides it just for one night. She needs to sleep."

"Last time I checked she was sleeping." Xander retorted, swelling up in anger. He felt like he was losing his two best friends, Buffy to her own mind, and Willow to her desire to bring back the old Buffy at all costs. "She doesn’t need that let’s-make-me-go-all-crazy potion! That’s something I think she can live without."

"It won’t make her crazy!" The redhead insisted, clutching the bottle to her chest protectively. "It’s to help. So she won’t have all those horrible dreams and things."

"You mean so you won’t have to listen to her?" Willow faltered at that, eyes wide with injury and disbelief that Xander could suggest such a thing. Her mouth hung open, she willed her brain to make words but they would not come. "Truth hurts doesn’t it?" Xander asked quietly, voice like steel, eyes like ice.

"What’s this then?" Spike piped up, tearing his gaze away from Buffy’s sunken face to the warring friends.

"This is Xander being a stupid idiot about things he doesn’t understand!"

"Well I’m pretty sure this is about Willow trying to take the easy way out even if it means pushing Buffy into a nice padded cell!" He rebutted. "I mean haven’t you learned what happens every time you try to take a short cut?"

"Short cut! Me? Look whose talking Mr. I-do-nothing-around-here-but-eat!"

"Excuse me? I go to work everyday unlike some of us..." He glared across the small heated space.

"Oh and what I do isn't work?" Willow asked incredulously. "All I do around here is work! Who make sure the bills get paid on time? Me. Who makes sure there is food in fridge and dinner and lunch? Me. Who is the one who is always cleaning and cooking and researching even when everyone else has gone to bed? Umm... hello? that would be me again! God Xander, how can you be so..." She flustered looking for a word. "Boorish!"

"Boorish?" Xander asked

"It mean's pigheaded."

Xander was about to dive headfirst into a rant about how he knew what it meant and that no one took him seriously except Spike interrupted, swiftly pulling the small green glass vial from Willow's grasp. "God! Can you children try to concentrate for a moment? All you've been doing is squabbling since I got here. Can't you just bloody shut up for a bleeding moment! No wonder she's off her bird, you two's squawking could drive anyone into the bleeding nuthouse! Now," He regained his composure, holding the vial closer to the light. "Someone want to tell me what this is and why you all are carrying on about it?"

Willow and Xander exchanged a long glance then with a heavy sigh, Willow spoke, taking the platform. "It's a potion. It allows her to have a dreamless sleep." Xander coughed, causing the red head to send him a pointed glare before explaining. "It allows her to have a dreamless sleep by obstructing her subconscious. It blocks fears and worries from being presented in the normal way, while she’s sleeping."

"And?" Xander prompted but Willow didn't continue. Her eyes floated to the floor, suddenly finding her shoes fascinating. "Well since Wills doesn't want to mention it let me fill you in on some of the pleasant little side effects this magical little cure has been known to cause, namely a bunch of crazy people. See when you lock up all that stuff it pretty much puts you on the road to Locoville."

"Not if it is given in the right dose!" The witch insisted. "Which is why with the clock and the whole time thing. Space it out and only for tonight so it won't build up in her system. And she gets to sleep..." Her pleading eyes landed on Spike shifting the power to him. Another time and the vampire might have found it odd how one person who couldn't stand him and another who could magic him into little bits was looking to him to make the call. But right now all he could think about was Buffy. If he was hoping for time to think it over, mentally balance the pros and cons, to ask more questions, his time was cut drastically short as the sounds of heavy footsteps sprinted up the stairs and threw open the door without knocking.

Kennedy held on to the doorframe, breathless. "They're missing. I looked everywhere." She panted.

"Who?" Willow asked as she assisted her girlfriend into the lounger.

"Faith and Dawn." She managed. "The car is missing too."

"Damn." Xander swore. "So what do we think?" He looked to Willow.

"I dunno. Do you think they might have just gone out to get something together?" She asked, turning to her lover.

"Faith would have said something." Kennedy insisted though the doubtful gazes from the others told her they didn't share her opinion. "I think Dawn took off again. I didn't see her anywhere after Spike's-" She noticed the blonde vamp standing in the room. "Anywhere after." She repeated.

"Seems to be the Dawnster's M.O." Xander nodded. "And my guess is Faith went out after her?"

A fretful look crossed Willow's face. "This isn't good. Faith isn't up to her usual strength, between Buffy and the spell. She may not even realize it."

"So they are both in danger." Xander concluded. "So where do we start looking?"

"You take the Flats. And I'll take the East Side. Dawn would probably want to blow off some steam. I'm thinking clubs, pool halls, anywhere she could get into." She helped Kennedy to her feet. "You think you can manage the troops here by yourself. I'm gonna get Vi and Rona see if they can cover the lakefront. You can be home base, just keep the girls calm and inside. I think they have had enough excitement for one day." She sent a sad look to Spike, who was standing apart from the group, his hands worked tightly around the small bottle.

"Keep 'em in out of trouble. Roger." Kennedy nodded.

"Wait." Called Xander as they started to file out the door. "Who is gonna sit with Buffy? It's not good for her to be alone for too long and who knows how long this will take?"

"I will." Spike spoke up, his voice a bit shy.

Xander opened his mouth to argue but quickly closed it, reading the looks radiating off of Kennedy and Willow. Time was of the essence here. Faith and Dawn were out there, and with Faith only up to half of her usual strength and Dawn without any it could be trouble. He didn't want to leave Buffy, every fiber of his being told him to stay, watch over her, but they were out there. Seeing the war raging in his eyes Kennedy piped up helpfully. "I'll be here. I'll check in and make sure she's okay. If things get worse I'll phone."

With a last accusatory glance at Willow, Xander trudged down the stairs, his thoughts evident, that she had brought this on them. Kennedy followed him, talking game plan and suiting him up with weapons. But Willow hung back. "She'll need that in about 20 minutes. " Her eyes flickered down the green glass bottle he was holding. "Just pour it in her mouth and make sure she swallows it. Other than that, keep her comfortable, and sometimes it helps if you read to her, a stack of her favorite books are over there." She gestured at a small milk carton shelf in the corner. "She likes the romances. But ya know not the smutty kind cuz Buffy's not like that."

She shook off her previous mistake, all business. "If you have any problems Kennedy should know what to do." She inhaled deeply, going over to Buffy and brushing her hand gently over her forehead. Then she turned, pausing just outside the door, not turning around. "Don't worry. We'll bring them home. We always do." And with that she was gone leaving the Slayer alone in Spike's care.

******

"Oh Willow is so gonna kill you!" The teen chanted with a hint of joy that Faith and not her would be on the chopping block.

"I’m not takin’ the fall for this. The car got stolen. Not my fault." Faith shook her head. "If anything it’s your fault." She wheeled on the teen. "I mean you’re the one who invited Spike in the first place."

"What? Me?" Dawn jogged after Faith who was hugging Buffy’s denim jacket closer to her as she walked down the narrow sidewalk. "I so did not! It was Willow who called and that’s how he found out. I didn’t even know he could leave LA."

"I bet you didn’t." Faith muttered as she stopped leaning against a Bus Stop sign.

"What’s that suppose to mean?"

"What it means, brat, is that someone had to roll out the welcome mat so Spike could even enter. I bet if you knew he could leave LA you might have mentioned that you had invited him, that’s all."

Dawn crossed her arms, lifting her head as she tried to go for stern and unwavering. "I so did not." Faith rolled her eyes, fingers playing with the cool metal of the sign. "I mean…" The younger Summers faltered for a second. "Well Buffy could have. When we were in LA."

"Sorry, wrong answer thanks for playing. Please, someone’s got to teach you how to lie and who to lie to. I was there in LA. I saw B, ‘member? She looked ready to spit nails. I seriously doubt she got down and cuddly in some closet with a spook and then invited him to hop on over next time." Faith yawned, stretched her arms over her head. "My guess is that you felt sorry for the poor guy after big sis chewed him out and offered him a place to crash if he was ever in the neighborhood. Hell, I don’t blame you, might have done the same if I wasn’t busy trying to keep B from either staking Angel or fucking his brains out and then staking him."

"Yeah." Dawn shrugged, not bothering to fight it anymore. Faith was turning out to be a lot cooler than she ever thought possible. "It was kind of crazy. And what was with that one guy trying to get Xander to go into gay demon porn?"

"Lorne? He means well but sometimes he goes a little overboard with the star search shit. Hey here comes our ride." She motioned with a nod of her head to the bus pulling up.

"Umm… Faith? It’s going the other direction. See?" She said pointing. "It says Waterfront and Flats."

"And your point is? Come on," She called as she went to board. "Loosen up, we might as well have some fun before Will puts the whammy on us. Besides I’m there to protect you from all the things that go bump in the night. I say we might as well enjoy the freedom."

Dawn grabbed the handle, taking a deep breath, and stepped aboard. "Might as well…"

*****

Spike sat down on the lounger as he heard the heavy doors close with a loud bang, his head resting in his hands. It had been a long day, far too long, and his head was pounding. He didn’t want to think, he didn’t want to feel, it was too much, too many emotions and thoughts pouring down on him, drowning him. They swirled around him, passing images, never close enough to really turn over, always being forced away as another hurtled towards him. Buffy was sick, Dawn was missing, he had some potion to give to Buffy which he couldn’t tell would do more harm than good. It was all too much.

In LA he had felt like a prisoner, held by his own cage, his choices molding the bars and fitting them tight till he couldn’t leave. After the confrontation with Buffy, when she marched into Wolfram and Hart, and found him not so dead, he vowed he wouldn’t face her again until he could tell her the whole truth. A searing pain shot up through his stomach as he replayed that horrible day, her hurt eyes flashing, the angry words. No, he had decided that the next time he saw Buffy he would be a man again, there would be no secret of the Shansu prophecy over his head. Yet here he was.

He cursed himself, but for staying away so long or coming at all he didn’t know. It was all so jumbled, fractured pieces that refused to hold still long enough for him to mend what was broken. Buffy he could deal with, he could take care of her and he was good at that, for over a century he had taken care of Dru. But Drusilla had always been like that, sure some days were…well, less crazy than others but even at her weakest she had never looked as beaten as Buffy did now.

A lump rose in his throat as his eyes drifted to his once golden goddess. Dru had been driven insane long before he stepped into the picture but Buffy had been fine. Sure sometimes she would walk the line straddling light and dark, or blame a bloke for what couldn’t be helped but she had been fine. And he couldn’t help but feeling that if he had been there, if he had come as soon as that magical package arrived, that maybe all of this could have been prevented. Hell, she could be breaking his heart with that smile of hers right now.

He tried to remain calm, detached, to block the cyclone of emotion threatening to rip his heart apart and scatter it. But the tears came anyway, unbidden, and unwelcome. With a firm hand he wiped furiously at them. Spike was above this. He was the big bad. Buffy needed him. He clung to that though gathering his wits about him and turning over in his mind the witch’s instructions. Read to her, keep her comfortable, and the potion. He could do that.

His eyes scanned the books, settling on Little Women. Red had said Buffy liked the romantic stuff and he figured that it would fit the bill, either that or bore him to tears. He stood, going over to Buffy, he pulled the blankets up more tightly around her, and then settled himself on top of them, careful to give her as much space as the tiny bed allowed. He had only gotten as far as the title when a small digital clock caught his eye. He was supposed to give Buffy the potion in about a minute, that was what Willow had said to do, and she would know, he reasoned. But there was a nagging in the back of his head that the boy was right on this one, messing with someone’s subconscious usually yielded some pretty nasty results. His blues eyes once again took in Buffy’s peacefully resting form. It was his call and he knew it. But he didn’t get up or pull the small vial from his pocket. Instead he began reading aloud. "`Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents,' grumbled Jo, lying on the rug…"

To Be Continued...

Chapter Five


Xander shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, the cold wind pressing harshly against the bits of exposed skin. "Getting anything over there?" He questioned Willow, who was standing next to him, palms up, each emitting a small ball of green light. Wherever she was she wasn't here with him. "I guess not." He muttered. This was getting just plain stupid. Here he was freezing his ass off while Willow was doing whatever she was doing to locate the car. Why he had to come along, he couldn't say. Willow surely hadn't told him anything when she said she needed him with her. So far he was beginning to think his job was to block some of the cold air.

He was seriously contemplating taking off to look for Dawn on his own when the balls of energy floating on Willow's palms turned red, blood swirling within them. With a sudden crackle of energy they crashed together the force knocking Willow off her feet, sending her flying back five feet, as they streamed out of sight leaving a small red trail in their mist.

"Whoa." Xander was at his best friend's side in an instant. The harsh ground had rendered her momentarily unconscious. He helped lift her head as her eyes fluttered open.

"Did it work?" The words came out meekly, mewings from a kitten.

"Well if it was supposed to go crash boom and then take off? A big ol' yes." He smiled, stretching out a sturdy arm, helping her to her feet.

"Oh good. It worked then." She took a few woozy steps, nearly collapsing, as her knight rushed to prevent her from hitting the ground.

"Were the jello knees an expected part of it or just a pleasant surprise?" He questioned as he looped one of her arms over his shoulder, helping her to walk, supporting her.

"Kinda knew it was coming." Willow admitted, leaning on him as they hobbled down the cracked sidewalk, following the quickly fading trail. "Gotta say it really didn't help soften the punch it packed."

"Next time you might want to give a fellow some warning. I could have caught you, or at least acted as a pillow when we both hit the pavement."

Willow smiled up at him, noticing the mild indignation on his face. "Why did you think I asked you to come? I knew you would be there to pick me up when I fell." Her green eyes locked on to his brown, time rushing backwards, years dissolving, till they were just two friends, before darkness had treaded onto their lives. Back to when they were just Willow and Xander, best friends forever. "You always are. Of course-" She added breaking the magical moment. "If I had known about that pillow offer-" Her voice trailed off as they marched on through the bitter cold night, wounded soldiers returning to war.


******


"This is so cool!" Dawn yelled over the blaring music, a beer in her hand.

"What?" Faith screamed back, her body a slave to the music. Dawn pulled her off the dance floor, to a quieter area near the bar.

"I was saying this is so cool! Buffy never lets me drink."

"I don't mind if you drink." Faith snatched the beer from Dawn's hand and downed half of it in one gulp. "But I do mind if B finds out so try to keep your head on tonight. I don't want to explain to big sis why you have your head in a toilet."

"You mean if I still have a head when Willow is done with me." Dawn sighed, taking a small sip of her drink. Faith was fast becoming the coolest person she knew. The only one who saw her, not Buffy's little sister, not Dawnie, not the key, but her.

Faith let her get her hands dirty, encouraged mistakes. How else was she gonna learn? Faith had a lifetime of mistakes, lessons that taught her more than all the books in the world. It wasn't knowledge you could pass on, that's what parents did, tried to keep you from repeating their mistakes, but the lesson was never the same, it never hit home. Let them make there own mistakes; just catch them when they fell and who knew? Maybe they would surprise you. Maybe they would fly. Faith gave Dawn her wings back after a lifetime of them being clipped.

The club was just another sky to soar in. Faith had got her in with a smile, a wink, and a twenty passed to the bouncer. Two fine looking women, who was he to deny them access? When they had saddled up to the bar Faith had ordered a beer and Dawn had followed her lead. Faith never said a thing about it, merely quirked her eyebrow and then smiled in a self-satisfied sort of way.

"It'll be mine on the chopping block not yours." Faith comforted her; though she was looking elsewhere, at a group of guys who kept checking them out, she nodded her head in greeting. They approached, four, good-looking, straight from an Abercrombie catalog. Dawn's stomach knotted, body tensing, every cell humming.

She forced a smile, trying to reign in her nerves. "Hey." Faith pushed her out of the nest as she started chatting up one of the guys. Fly or fall. "So where are you guys from?" Dawn asked with a small smile.


*****


"Such a bloody waste of money." Spike mumbled to himself between reading aloud to Buffy who slept peacefully beside him. "Stupid bloody limes. And that little bit cares about nothing but her nose." He scanned the next page, becoming fully engrossed in the world painted by Louisa May Alcott. His favorite thus far had been timid Beth, which he drew in his mind to be a young Dawn. "And yep there you go. 'No sooner had the guest paid the usual stale compliments and bowed himself out, than Jenny, under pretense of asking an important question, informed Mr. Davis, the teacher, that Amy March had pickled limes in her desk.' How did I know it?" He questioned the slumbering blonde beside him. "She's breaking the rules. And not even doing a good sort at that."

A soft rapping on the door snapped him back to attention. He moved off the bed at lightening quick speed and deposited himself in the old lounger before clearing his voice and saying, "Come in."

She entered shyly, hesitantly, looking as if she was a child abandoned, awash in a sea of unfamiliarity despite this was now her home. Spike tilted his head slightly to the side as she entered, attempting to puzzle this intruder out. She had long red hair that curled up into tangles and waves, she had let it down tonight, forsaking her trademark ponytail. She wasn't beautiful, her green eyes were too large, her body too boyish, with no hips and no breasts to entice men. She wore a large flannel shirt that devoured her petite form, giving her the appearance of a young girl playing dress-up in her father's clothes. Yet for all of her childish appearance there was something about her that was dangerous, powerful.

"Let me guess? Another slayer right?" Spike sighed heavily. "So your little girly mates running a game. See who can be the big brave girl and see the new vamp. Well here I am, baby. Now run along, will ya?"

The teasing wasn't sharp, yet it made her flinch. Her body seemed to retreat inward amongst the fold of cloth. "No." She shook her head, a bit nervously but held her ground. "I came to check on Buffy. I thought you might have wanted a break and I didn't want her to be alone."

Spike smiled. She was a timid one all right, a fawn in a world of dangerous huntsmen. He felt sorry for the poor lamb; she wasn't going to make it. "Nice offer but I'm fine." He waited for her to go but if she heard the dismissive tone in his voice she ignored it. She stood over Buffy tucking the coverlets tighter around her. "Umm... So what's the good word? Find Nibblet yet?" She gave him a queer look to which he amended, "Dawn."

She shook her head mournfully. "No. But they are all out looking it shouldn't be long now."

She seemed to posses a confidence in the Scoobies, which he had never witnessed before. If they said it was going to be all right, she believed in them, she trusted in them. Which only secured the thought more firmly in Spike's mind that she wasn't going to be among their ranks for long. He felt a twinge of sorrow at her future passing but mostly he hoped Buffy wasn't attached to this one. She seemed like a girl one could easily get attached to. "So why aren't you out there? Or at least downstairs coordinating and stuff? Hanging with the other slayers?"

"They aren't helping." It was softly spoken but the force her words contained made the room seem to cool, Buffy shivered. Then it passed. And Spike was sure his mind was playing tricks on him, no way this tiny child could chill the room with her mere utterance. "The 'original army' is already out looking. Well except Kennedy. She is home base. Very important. But the 'new wave'? They just sit there and gossip. I don't like them."

"And you shouldn't if that's all those poncy buggers do." His indignation got a small smile from Amber, maybe the thought of a vamp so worked up over training habits of slayers just struck her as funny. Whatever the reason the mood seemed to lighten. "Why don't you run down stairs and give Will's gal a hand. Looks to me like she could use one, what with all those no accounts sittin' around braidin' hair and what have you."

"I guess I better. I just came to check on Buffy in the first place. It was a really bad day for her."

"So I've heard."

Amber smiled sadly at the remark. She moved to the door, her hand wrapping around the knob before she paused. She cocked her head slightly, as if listening to music no one could hear but her. When she turned back around Spike saw her green eyes flashing with worry as they searched the empty ceiling. He wanted to ask her what she was looking for but he never got the chance. "Take care of her okay?" She requested politely before she disappeared down the stairs much like Alice in the rabbit hole.

Spike retook up residence on the bed occupied by Buffy. "Strange bird." He muttered to himself before picking up the book once more, intent on seeing what happened now that Amy had been caught with the limes.


*****


The red trail had long since faded and yet Xander could tell they were getting closer. There was a pull, and energy directing him through the cold night. Where it would lead he didn't know, but he doubted he could resist the pull even if it led him to the mouth of Hell itself, which in Cleveland happened to be under a giant sculpture that looked like a stamp with the word 'FREE' carved into. Weird place, Cleveland was.

The sound of slapping water became louder as they walked. Willow seemed to grow stronger the closer they got. They moved without speaking, hypnotized, the goal was clear, the path was set. Over a small chain-link fence with no trouble, nothing could stand in their way.

The magic was denser, a warm wetness trickling down their backs, urging them forward. Their pace increased, following the music of the crashing water, keeping time with it. Faster, quicker, the slippery dock posed no threat, they didn't even notice, they saw nothing; just felt the pull, like the moon of the tides. They were puppets in a much stronger game, their marionette strings tied to their hearts.

There it was. A swirling red mist, it smelled of blood, of the end of innocence, and of power. And it called them. Willow stopped at the edge, her eyes filling with tears, as if she finally saw where she stood. But Xander didn't; he continued to walk until he fell with a sickening crash into the freezing waters of Lake Erie.

Chapter Six


The hospital smelled of disinfectant and worry sat heavily in the air, making it thick and tense. Too cold and detached for all the lives in its care, not just those who relied upon nurses and doctors but all those anxious faces that filled the waiting room, praying, hoping, waiting for someone to tell them the fate of their loved ones. Willow shivered, hating to count herself amongst them.

You did hospital time in the Scooby Gang. It came with the territory. She just wasn't used to it being her fault and in some way it was. It was her spell, the draw nearly overwhelmed her; she should have been anchoring Xander. She didn't think. Now all she had was time to think. The fall was bad, at least fifteen feet straight into the frozen lake. She wasn't sure how the police arrived, or the ambulance, she certainly didn't think to call them. She was in too much shock to think, to move. She didn't realize how her voice carried, how the screams woke the neighbors.

The car was in the lake; the one Dawn and Faith were in. A wave of nausea lurched in her stomach. She had managed to tell the disbelieving police officer that a car had been driven in. He eyed her suspiciously, curbing his tongue and asked her no questions of drug use though he highly suspected it. Sensing his hesitation she went right for the magic, a simple command spell. He promised to call the coast guard and tell her as soon as he knew anything. She had wanted to wait to make sure the job was being done right, to maybe 'help' them along some but the ambulance driver asked if she was coming. The answer was simple.

Now she sat alone, surrounded by people, fingers playing with the smooth honey oak arms of the sea green chair on which she perched. She should be doing something, anything. Her brain refused to work. Things needed to be done. Faith and Dawn. The Car. The Lake. Xander. Rona and Vi were out on the East Side. Someone would need to tell them. Spike was in town. Buffy. Too many responsibilities clawing at her. Always after her with their razor sharp teeth, gnashing, when she subdued one there was another and another, armies sent upon her.

And her head was in her hands, her fingers tugging at her red locks. She told herself to get it together, to think. Concentrate on what she could do now, what needed to be done first. She thought of the hospital with its triage system, treat the most critical first, then the rest. Faith and Dawn, they were top priority. She couldn't do much for them sitting in the hospital but refused to leave until she knew Xander was going to be all right. Which left only one option. She stood up, walking away from her seat that was quickly snatched up and into the bitter night air. Pulling her cell phone out of her purse she sighed, time to call in some recruits.


*****


"Knock, Knock." Kennedy announced softly as she pushed her way into the room. The warmth and the soft body beside him had allowed Spike to drift off to sleep. Kennedy smiled to herself as she looked at the vampire resting, Little Women propped up on his chest. She wished she had a camera if nothing else for blackmail. She realized he must be exhausted after having all this stuff dumped at his feet. She would like to do nothing more than let him sleep but she had said she would check in.

With a sigh she walked back out, this time she rapped loudly on the door, she knew Spike had a soul now but she couldn't quite guarantee her safety if Spike knew that she saw him so soft and cuddly. She waited to enter until she heard a groggy "Come in."

"Hey." She couldn't resist a grin, noting how Spike was now settled into the lounge chair. "Just checking in. Making sure everything is okay."

"Fine, fine." Spike insisted. He paused a moment, his eyes taking in Buffy's resting form. "Is she supposed to be so cold?"

"Umm yeah…" Kennedy walked over towards the bed pulling the covers up around Buffy's all too slender form. "It's this sleeping potion thing that Willow makes. It sort of slows down her circulation. We just try to keep her warm…which is why it feels like a sauna in here."

"It is a bit warm." Spike admitted.

"Ya think?" Kennedy replied with a smile. "Anyway she should be out till late tomorrow morning and then comes the fun hangover part where she goes around biting everyone's heads off."

"Thanks for the warning, luv"

"Anyway, I wanted to see how you were doing?" Spike raised an eyebrow. "Not with the stuff." She corrected, as much as she liked Spike she didn't want to get into everything, not tonight when there was so much more to worry about. "But like do you need something to drink? We had Pepsi. I can't say for sure that it's still there but I can check."

"Nah. I'm fine. Feeling a bit peckish but I can wait."

"Oh blood… yeah we don't have any around here. But as soon as they find Faith and Dawn I'll make sure to get you some. Or if you are feeling really hungry I know of a few girls who were giving me lip today during training…"

Spike returned the grin. "Thanks for the offer, pet. Somehow I don't think the witch would be glad if I started nibbling on the girl scouts."

"Don't be so sure." Kennedy said, hand on the doorknob. "Lisa isn't winning any popularity contests."

"I'll keep that in mind." Spike promised as Kennedy closed the door behind her and disappeared down the stairs.

He sighed, examining the small room. It was so bare, so plain, like a hotel, no personal touches to be found, no photos, no nothing. Not one thing that spoke of the Buffy he knew, and he couldn't help but question as he gazed at the fragile girl next to him, if she would ever return.


*****


"Umm...I'm not so sure about this." Dawn admitted as she watched Faith apply some dark red lipstick in the small bathroom of the club.

"You only do things you're sure about?" Faith asked smacking her lips and grinning at her reflection, before tucking the lipstick back into her black bag.

Dawn faltered as Faith turned to look at her. She worked so hard to be seen as an adult and now she actually had someone who didn't treat her like she was twelve but... "It just doesn't seem like the smartest thing to do. I mean Willow is so gotta be freaking about now and with Spike and all..."

"What about Spike?" The rogue slayer questioned, her eyes darkening. "Ya know something I don't? Think I need to join Xand in the keep watch over B patrol? Cuz from where I was sitting he seemed pretty soul happy but if you think it's an act ya gotta let me in."

"No, no. Nothing like that." Dawn insisted. "It's just..." She sighed. "It doesn't seem safe. Going back to their dorm. And Willow is gotta to be so worried and with everything..."

"First off, I'll deal with Will. You and I both know she's gonna blow a gasket either way and we are looking at a solid week of being leashed so I figure we might as well get some kicks in while we can. And..." She grinned placing a hand on Dawn's shoulder. "Just cause we are going to chill at their dorm doesn't mean you have to do anything ya don't wanna do."

"I dunno..." Dawn repeated. "It just doesn't feel safe."

"Girl, B really does have you wound too tight. You're with a slayer, one of the best I might add, known to kick a little ass. We're safe as houses. So you in or do I need to drop you back at Slayer Central? Cuz either way I'm going."

"Safe as houses." Dawn forced a smile.

"That's my girl." Faith commented as she led her back into the ear-splitting club to the group of anxiously awaiting guys.

*****

Kennedy snatched up the cell phone vibrating against the workbench as she pulled an almost empty liter of Pepsi from the cupboard. She noticed 'Willow' across the display, hit a quick button and brought it to her ear. "Have you found them?" Kennedy could make out a muffled sob in response. "Willow? What is it?"

"Xander's in the hospital. The car's in the lake." Willow managed through her tears. It was all too much. She needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to take over, help carry her burdens for awhile. Kennedy was that someone. She had intended to be strong, to just tell her what had happened, no emotion, just facts, but once Willow heard her voice the strong plan fell apart.

"Where are you?" Kennedy asked, voice strong.

"Fairview Hospital. Why?"

"I'm coming to help you." She stated simply in a tone that would have left no debate in the SIT's minds.

However Willow wasn't a slayer in training. "You can't. The girls and Buffy."

"They'll be fine." Kennedy asserted. "Don't bother arguing. I'm on my way." She quickly hung up the cell phone, cutting of Willow's protests. Her lover needed her; it was as simple as that.

She walked out of the kitchen into the living area and hoisted open the trunk that served as a makeshift coffee table. It housed the simpler weapons, the dangerous stuff was kept in Buffy's room and thus out of the SIT's hands. She grabbed two stakes, a vial of holy water, and a rose quartz. The last one being for Willow, something small to make her feel better, she had remembered Dawn telling her once it had healing properties and she figured her girl might need them. Not her first choices as far as weapons went, but to retrieve her crossbow she would need to go upstairs... which reminded her of another problem.

"Hey Amber." She called softly to the girl sitting in the corner curled up, a book on her lap.

The red head looked up, stretching her arms out so her hands appeared from within the long green flannel sleeves of her oversized shirt. "Yeah?"

"I need a favor."

To Be Continued...

Chapter Seven


Amber set her book aside, all attention on Kennedy. "Sure, anything."

Kennedy smiled to herself. If nothing else Amber was always sweet and eager to be of service. "Great. I have to run out-"

"Is it Faith?" Amber interrupted, stormy questions flashing in her enormous green eyes. For a split second Kennedy thought of waiting until Vi or Rona were back before she left. Amber was a nice kid, but that was the problem. She was a kid. Fourteen was fourteen and no amount of slayer ability could change that. Kennedy was pretty sure if she kept wearing her heart on her sleeve like she did she was gonna bleed to death.

"I don't know anything- not really." Kennedy admitted. "Willow just called, she needs some back up. So I was wondering if you could kinda keep an eye on things until Rona and Vi get back?" Kennedy waited, expecting the usual surge of enthusiasm. Amber was forever begging to help. But instead Amber wrung her hands, her mind clicking with the pros and cons. When Kennedy saw her eyes snake up to the metal staircase, she could tell she was gonna say no so she quickly jumped in, slicing the silence. “Please Amber. It’ll be just a little bit. Vi and Rona are due back any moment.”

“What about her?” She spoke in a quite reverent way, fingers twisting in the green flannel of her shirt.

“Spike’s with her and you’re here. If there’s a problem you can give me a ring on my mobile.” Kennedy assured her. “In the meantime if Spike asks where I went just tell him to the store or to get some blood or something.” As if seeing the questions forming in Amber’s mind she continued. “I just don’t want to worry him anymore than necessary. He’s got a lot on his plate right now.”

Amber was silent as Kennedy walked out the door, but she said a quick prayer. They all had a lot on their plates right now.


*****


Dawn forced a smile as the tallest boy, Sean, ushered her and Faith into his and a guy named Brad's tiny dorm room. The room was cramped with magazines, textbooks, and clothes scattered across the worn carpeting. She carefully made her way over to one of the twin beds, pushing aside the rumpled blankets, making a place to sit. Faith and three other guys filtered in behind them, one of them presumably Brad. Dawn had tried to puzzle them out on the ride over, but she couldn't seem to keep their faces straight in the dim light that filtered into the van from the streets. All she knew for sure was that the guy who led them up the stairs was Sean; his bright blue hair was kinda hard to miss.

"Hey," Sean asked sitting next to her on the small bed. "Want something to drink?"

"Umm..." Dawn felt sick now that she was inside, the air seemed stale and sour, and her cheeks felt uncomfortably hot. Her stomach had an icky swishy feeling, like she had consumed a barrel of root beer. She thought longingly of the days when all she had to do was open her mouth and her mom would be there, a plate full of saltines and a glass of flat ginger ale in her hands. “Sprite?” She asked hopefully, trying to figure a discrete way to stir out some of the bubbles.

“Hey, Devon, got any pop?” Sean hollered at the brunette boy who was sitting on the floor in front of a mini fridge, flipping through a CD case as he put on some music.

Devon sat up, creating barely enough room to open the small door and peek in the tiny fridge. “Sorry man, just Bud.”

“Toss me one of those.”

“Sure thing.” And within moments cold cans of Bud light were being popped open and consumed. Faith downed hers in a few seconds before locking lips again with whom Dawn was pretty sure was Brad.

“Positive you don’t want one?” Sean asked draping an arm over Dawn’s thin shoulder. Her skin burned, as heat surged through her small body, his arm only compounding the problem. She needed something cool to drink. Dawn was about to agree to the aforementioned beer, when the guy sitting in front of the fridge, Devon she thought, vomited on to a pile of dirty clothes.

“Gross man,” commented Brad breaking his make out session with a Cheshire cat smiling Faith to rag his buddy. Faith didn’t say anything, just arched her eyebrows in an amused way as she stretched out on the rumpled bedding. “You gotta get that shit out of here. It reeks.” The smell did in fact stink, blotting out the odor of unwashed socks and cheese sticks that had been left out to long, the sour scent filling her nostrils causing Dawn to fight back a gag.

“Hey there,” Sean asked peering down at Dawn’s blanched face. “You feeling okay?”

Brad piped up from where he was on top of Faith. “Seriously don’t be tossing your cookies in here.” He shot her a serious look. If Dawn wasn’t concentrating so hard on trying to get her stomach under control she might have been pissed off at the fact that it was okay that his friend just threw up all over his clothes but the thought a chick might do it made him upset.

“I just feel a little warm.” Dawn muttered. “That’s all.”

Sean removed his arm placing a hand on Dawn’s forehead much like her mother used to do, but what he was checking for Dawn didn’t have a clue. “I don’t think you have a fever.” He concluded as Dawn fought not to glare at him, no shit. “Why don’t we go for a walk? Get you a little fresh air?”

Dawn nodded dumbly, both embarrassed to be sick in front of him and yet relishing the feeling of being taken care of. It had been so long since she had been babied. “While you guys are at it drop kick his sorry ass back in his room.” Brad lightly kicked Devon to make a point. “Oh yeah and pitch that shit.” He pointed to the pile of clothes that Devon was stuffing into a plastic bag.

Dawn looked to Faith for permission. “Hey, you’re a big girl now. You do what you want.” Dawn managed a meek smile, torn between wanting Faith to demand they go home and honor at finally being treated like an adult.

“Come on,” said Sean helping her off the bed. “The campus is really pretty at night.”


*****


Spike set aside Little Women, slightly disappointed with its ending. It wasn’t a big thing, but turning over the reasons Laurie ended up with Amy was a sight more comforting than trying to understand how earlier today he was barking at Harmony to answer the phone and now his whole world was upside down. He was used to change being a slow subtle thing, crawling in and blooming before your eyes. He wasn’t accustomed to this, sharp and painful, at the snap of a finger. In truth he had faced change like this before, so sudden it stole your breath and locked your heart in your throat, but she had returned, and he didn’t like to think on that time much.

He didn’t like to think of this much. Didn’t want to think of Buffy. She looked like a broken doll and felt like ice, a shadow of a memory, a lacking impression of a girl he once knew. Again she started to shiver, seeming to sense the unhappiness that poured from him, Goosebumps spotting flesh beneath blankets that were worn with time and love.

Detached he pulled the blankets up tighter around her, grabbing the pan of warn water and soaking the rag, lying it on her furrowed brow. This he could do, he could take care of her. Little steps danced daily, the same as with Dru. It was tiring but still he knew he could do it forever if need be, there was no limit to the strength that love gave.

It was the rest that disturbed him. God knows how many new slayers, most of them not much more than babes themselves, crammed into a decaying warehouse. Spike knew without being told that money was obviously fast becoming an issue, otherwise Buffy would never have allowed them to move here. Even if she cared nothing about them she wouldn’t have allowed Dawn to live in poverty. A thought struck out, cold and brutal, that he really didn’t know what Buffy would allow anymore. He looked at the quivering girl under a heap of blankets; his girl didn’t live there anymore.


*****


Willow stood pacing the linoleum floor, repeated squares of white and pale green staring up at her. She had tried to reach Rona and Vi but they hadn’t answered meaning either that they were up to their necks in trouble or that the cheap local cell phone company crapped out yet again. Either way it wasn’t good, less badness with the second one, but cell phones were their primary way of connecting and strategizing, they needed them to be functional at all times. In the end it came down to the one constant in Willow’s changing life, money. Something so trivial was now what kept her up at nights. Demons didn’t frighten her but the mounting bills did, juggling funds as best she could while trying not to worry the others. Finding an abandoned chair by the fish tank Willow sat down, mentally plotting a budget for new pricier phone service, a task so engrossing that she didn’t even notice the quiet vibrating of her own phone.


******


“Note to self,” Joked Dawn lightly. “Winter campus is beautiful but requires a warmer coat.” She was feeling slightly improved, the romp to get Devon back to his own bed had proved a challenging one, the BW campus was spread out over most of the small suburb even seeming to encroach on the high school, which shared its stadium. Snow had yet to fall on the ground but there was a light frost on the windowpanes and the dew froze the blades of grass, encasing them in white splendor.

“Here take mine,” offered Sean, shrugging out of his leather jacket and draping it over Dawn’s shoulders.

Dawn snuggled into the soft brown leather, inhaling the scent of cologne that clung to it. Her stomach was still sloshing but the cold air had stopped her from feeling like a human ball of fire. It was nice, even a bit romantic starry winter night with a prince offering her his cloak, the type of thing that always happened to other girls. Dawn didn’t know much about drinking; she never got to really be the rebellious teen, what with Buffy’s watchful eye. She didn’t know how it could magnify things, make the darker seem denser, the stars brighter. She didn’t know it could disguise lust as love. She didn’t think anything could be more perfect as when he lead her to the granite bench in front of his door and started to kiss her. She just didn’t know.


*****


Kennedy entered through the automatic doors, muttering something to the guard about visiting a friend, too distracted to really care what he thought. Her fingers were wrapped tightly around the rose quartz in one pocket, and her stake in the other. It had been a pretty eventful night over, six dusted, something that would have normally made her day except that every vamp was just another few moments away from Willow.

Her brown eyes scanned the crowed waiting room, finally spotting her girl sandwiched between an elderly lady who was coughing and a tank of brightly colored fish. She walked up to her, Willow’s eyes vaguely glued to the swimming fish. “Hey baby.” She said softly, playing with the ends of Willow’s red hair.

Willow turned to her with a start. The floodgates broken as tears fell down, staining her cheeks. “I messed up.” She croaked out before dissolving into her lover’s arms.


*****


The shaking didn’t stop. He did everything he was bleedin’ supposed to but yet she wouldn’t stop. Her wretched form trembled and twisted, as if being stuck by millions of invisible pins, soft mewings escaping her lips as if it hurt too much to call out. All the while he stood there, helplessly fumbling, starting new books, only to lose his place when she twisted out of her blankets, pulling the blankets over her to have her frown in her slumber. Wondering if she was too warm he removed the top blanket only to have her shiver, teeth chattering in her skull.

He had held off on going to Kennedy for help, not really wanting to pester Will’s girl when she had enough to deal what with babysitter patrol and Dawn’s little Houdini act. But when Buffy’s soft cries formed into a solid quiet word, he decided to hell with disrupting Kennedy. His girl was calling for help.


******


“Nope. Still no answer.” She replied with a small smile, setting down the black receiver.

“Are you sure it was Willow?” Angel questioned for the hundredth time. He had gotten back to find his desk covered with magazines, his office smelling of smoke, and Harmony complaining about Spike’s harassment of her. Oh yeah and the platinum pain in his ass was missing. Not the worse thing except Harmony said he had taken after a call for him had come in.

“I didn’t even say it was that loser in the first place. You’re the one who had them look up the caller ID thingy.” She shrugged. “But if she does call back can you mention that it is rude to yell at someone for something they didn’t do. Oh yes and that falls shouldn’t wear pink.”

Angel looked at her baffled.

“What? She was always wearing pink in high school and with her coloring...” She scrunched up her nose. “It’s really a bad habit. She needs to learn to stay in her color palette.” Harmony nodded her head. “You know I could help her if-“

“Harmony?” Angel questioned, rubbing his aching cranium.

“Yeah boss?”

“Just find me Giles.”


TBC