Chapter 7 by Schez

Several Weeks later

“It’s time.”

Four figures were seated in a darkened room surrounded by magical paraphernalia.

The four of them rose and began to pack everything they would need for the night. Silence surrounded them as they moved in tandem and left the room.

The door clicked shut with a finality that all of them recognised.

After this evening, everything would be different – there was no going back…

*******

The clatter of silverware was all but smothered by the chatter of conversation around the dining table.

Anne and Dawn sat opposite each other and Spike sat at the head, facing towards the door. Alert at all times, he scanned the front door as he listened to the girl’s chatter about their day- they were like a pair of Blue Jays. He was constantly amazed at how his unlife had changed – once he would have drained these two birds and picked his teeth clean with their bones, and now…

Now he protected them both with his unlife.

There was a sense of family here, but it was tinged with sadness – he could see in Dawn’s eyes the sorrow she carried with her for her fallen sister and for the recent absence of Giles in their lives.

Spike wondered at the lack of sorrow in himself towards the Bit’s fallen sister, in a way he wished he could share her sorrow. Dawn was his and to see her suffering day and night for her dead sister hurt him. He sighed, wishing he had some memories that he could share with Dawn to join her in her mourning – but there was nothing.

Nothing but an empty void in his mind and heart…

A flash of blonde hair filled his mind and a lingering smile on a beautiful pair of un-scarred full pink lips appeared in his mind’s eye. Spike closed his eyes and jerked his head slightly as a pain jabbed him between the eyes. It went unnoticed by Dawn and Anne; surreptitiously he rubbed his temples, before reaching for his beer and taking a swig. ‘Wonder if the Chip has given me a tumour or sumthing…’

He eyed the windows warily, on full alert. Ever since the appearance and rapid decapitation of Vampire Xander he had been on tenterhooks, waiting to see what the Hellmouth spat out next in challenge to the safety of hearth and home. Since the repeated sighting of Red’s alter-vamp-ego on patrol, he had been on high alert, anticipating an all out attack. Adding to his frustration were several aborted attempts at fighting her, all of which ended with her retreating and saying it wasn’t time yet. There had been a maliciousness to her that had set his fangs on edge.

Also, the three vamp stooges were plain embarrassing – they were vamps and still arses.

One of them he recognised from the first and only year she had been in College. Spike cringed as a pain shot through his temple; unnoticed by any of the diners, the corner of Spike’s eye filled with blood. His subconscious veered away from her and focused on Jonathon.

What was wrong with that plonker? He was always getting into trouble, and now he was a vampire! Sad thing was, he was still largely pathetic within the world, if the whole attempt at thralling birds at the Bronze was any reflection of Jonathon and his mate’s pulling ability.

Spike also recalled the entire sorry episode where the entire town had hero-worshipped the short magic-caster; even he had respected Super Jonathon. Now the poor sod was a pitiful vampire who had allied himself with Warren.

Spike knew the git from somewhere but couldn’t quite place his finger on it. Every time he tried his brain throbbed; frustrated, the maudlin vampire focused on the blond rat-faced boy who had been there, too. The bugger had been called Andrew and that was about all he could recall about the nondescript vamp. Spike wasn’t too concerned about them; it was their leader that filled his undead heart with dread.

He was more concerned with the vicious redheaded vamp; she was going to cause trouble-- he was sure of it.

It was only a matter of time.

He needed to get out there and track down the bitch and rip out her shrivelled heart – it’d been bad enough seeing the Whelp with fangs, but Red… It was just wrong. What unsettled him most was that she had the scent of an Aurelian vampire. She had been sired by one of his own – but now he had no loyalty to his vampiric family. Instead, he was willingly aligned with a group of mortals.

A group of mortals who should’ve known better than to play with Magicks! The fault for the presence of Vampire Willow could only be laid at the feet of the Scoobies – he knew that they had meant well by their bringing over of Anne. But they could’ve closed the friggin portal!

Spike’s eyes flicked over to the reason for the portal and smiled at her animated face as she chatted to Dawn. Anne was coming out of her defensive shell and- with the two of them- was more like a teen than a hardened warrioress. An image she presented to the world, she wore her battle scars with pride and never flinched from the stares.

Spike looked assessingly at the Slayer, ignoring the twinge he felt in his head at the word. She had started to wear her hair in a ponytail rather than plaited so severely that a German milkmaid would’ve been envious at its neatness. Dawn’s influence on her clothing was minimal- Anne still wore her utilitarian outfits – but every now and then a flash of colour was beginning to appear and he suspected that they were snagged from Buffy’s wardrobe. Spike winced again as the pain built in his skull.

He felt something pop in his head and struggled to suppress a whimper. He didn’t want to appear weak in front of the girls.

He was proud of Anne’s faltering steps away from the life she had lived…but he was discomforted by her burgeoning attraction to him; it hurt in so many ways that he didn’t understand. He wondered if her new behaviour was obvious to the others, or if he was imagining it?

Ever since that night when she had reached for his hand, Spike had become a little wary of her. That was the first time he had noticed that Anne had been pilfering clothes from Dawn’s sister. She had been dressed to the nines and had been flashing her bits to all the hormonal boys at the Bronze.

Spike had not realised at the time that she had dressed for him – not until they were returning to the house after the ‘talk’ with Willow and Anne had caught hold of his hand. Spike still felt shocked that the poor bint had misinterpreted his friendship for anything more. Spike eyed Anne as she ate and wondered if he could get Tara to have a natter with her- he wasn’t gonna touch it with a bargepole! He wondered why the others had been so allusive for the last few weeks, he had barely seen any of them. Most of his time spent with Dawn and Anne. He needed to talk to Glinda or Red and get them to have the ‘birds and the bees’ natter with Anne.

The intuitive vampire knew that the problem was that Anne was utterly inexperienced in the realms of love and relationships. Her life before coming here had been only for the hunt and not for anything else. If she had allowed herself to be distracted by a bloke, she would probably not have survived as long as she had.

But her flirting was starting to worry him on many levels.

He liked the bird as a friend and nothing else. But his inner William was holding him back from saying anything; he knew what it was like to be rejected and wanted to spare her that pain. However, a line was going to have to be drawn. She needed to know that, yes, she had a place in his heart and his life, but not as a lover--only as a friend and patrol buddy.

The agony he was going through every time Anne batted her long eyelashes at him was getting to the point where he was beginning to suspect that the chip was startin’ to malfunction. Spike knew that sex and violence went hand in hand with vamps, but, for the life of him, he couldn’t work out why Anne’s fumbled attempts at seduction were causing the chip to fire. It wasn’t as if he were responding to her sweet attempts, so why did the chip punish him?

Maybe he should get someone to check out the blasted thing before his brains dribbled out of his ears?

Despite all this, Spike was proud of her…she was changing for the better and it looked good on her!

It wasn’t much and he doubted that the Scoobies would’ve noticed, but she was relaxing into her new life. Since Willow and Anne had talked, he was hoping that things would become easier. Things had, but the core Scoobies were still secretive around Anne, and by association, Dawn and himself – which was beginning to piss him off alot!

Spike picked up a Spicy Chicken wing and gnawed on it contemplatively as he continued to ponder the enigma that was Anne. Recently Spike’s sharp sense of smell had noticed a faint trace of perfume on her clothes and skin that was familiar and made his entire body ache-- not just his head. Spike had consciously decided not to breathe around her and the pain had lessened immediately.

He tossed the stripped chicken bones onto his plate and licked his fingers clean. He was unaware that Anne was watching his long pink tongue intently; she flushed and looked back at Dawn before Spike spotted her drooling.

The oblivious vampire combed his fingers through his hair as his mind moved back to what had been bothering him recently about Anne. Initially, he had not really seen her as anything but another Slayer, but over the weeks they had become friends. He had seen her discomfort with the others and had tried to help out. He had approached Giles and asked the Watcher to train Anne, asking him not to mention it was his idea.

But to his chagrin, Anne had surprisingly rebuffed the half-hearted offer – instead turning back to him. So the blond vampire had taken up training with her – it was a slow and hard process. He had to watch every move so as not to fall to the floor screaming in pain from the chip, but they had developed a programme and it was working. Spike had noticed that Anne had a tighter style of fighting and was regimented. He was trying to teach her to loosen up and be more inventive, less predictable, mimicking his own moves.

The two of them not only patrolled together, they talked and had become friends.

As a vampire he’d had minions, and Dru – but never friends. Something that as William he had craved and, once turned, it had never crossed his mind again. Once he had been chipped, the blond vampire had been isolated from the demon world – even more so when he had started fighting and killing his own kind.

The loneliness had set in and he recognised that same loneliness in Anne. He had gathered from their long talks that she had been alone in her world and, until recently, had been a loner. Much like himself…Spike thought that maybe that was why he had been drawn to her. Spike eyed Anne and wondered when the feelings she had for him had changed. He knew that he had never given her signals, but after all her recent attempts over the past few weeks at seducing him, he was worried, wondering if he had.

************

“And standing in the middle of a cemetery clutching lit candles is a good idea in whose book?” Xander quipped nervously as he stared at the others. He adjusted his grip on the candle and wiped the sweat from his brow with the other. “Hell! I should just paint a target on my ass and stand here yelling ‘nummy treat over here!’”

Unable to resist, Tara gave Xander a lopsided grin. “Xander, you could probably fend them off with your manly weapon!” She ducked her head and smiled at the look of shock on Xander’s face.

“No one gets to see Xander’s manly weapon but me!” Anya squeaked as her hands darted to the crotch of Xander’s pants and she gently petted her favourite weapon.

“Ahn!” Xander danced away from Anya’s intimate and knowing touch and flushed bright red. He then turned to Tara, his brown eyes filled with shock that the usually subdued Wiccan had been big with the raunchyness. “Bad Tara! No flashing of my you know what!” He shook a disapproving finger at the blonde and smiled at her.

Tara’s jaw dropped in surprise, “I m…meant your candle! You could set fire to a vamp, not that!” She pointed to his pants and turned bright red.

“I’m sure he could set fire to a female vampire with his nicely shaped and long…” Xander clamped a hand over his garrulous girlfriend’s mouth with a long suffering groan. Turning, Xander grinned at Tara and rolled his eyes at her.

Willow ignored their banter as she set up. Pulling out the Hart’s blood she laid the bottle on the ground and tried to suppress the shudder that went through her at the memory of killing Bambi - it’s small body struggling in her arms as she cut it’s throat was a memory that would never leave her.

Anya and Tara stood silently watching the treeline – worried that they would be interrupted or killed by a vamp or a demon. They had all been on alert when they had dug up Buffy’s coffin.

It had been Anya’s idea – the ex-demoness was stunned when no one else had thought of it. She had gone on to happily reminisce about several vampire risings she had witnessed where the fledges had been too weak to break out of the coffin, let alone crawl through the six feet of soil that covered their final resting place.

After several moments of stunned silence, Willow had sent Xander to find some shovels; on his return they had cleared the grass and soil off the coffin. But they couldn’t face opening it; none of the four wanted to see their friend’s rotted corpse.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Xander asked hesitantly.

Willow’s eyes caught his in a firm glare. “Yes, Xander, it is! We’ve been over and over this…Buffy needs us to save her! When Glory used Dawn’s blood to open a gate into her hell dimension, Buffy jumped into it to close it! Her soul is in HELL, you want to leave her there?” Willow looked back down and carefully repositioned the Urn of Osiris at the foot of Buffy’s grave and then knelt down.

“Willow, sweetie, are you all set?” Tara looked down at her lover. Fear and pride warring in her eyes-- she knew that her Willow tree could do it, but she was scared that the ritual might damage her.

Willow smiled up at Tara and looked lovingly at her. Tara’s gentle strength and love warmed her heart. After sighting her vamp alter ego several times on patrol and at the Bronze over the past weeks, she had been unsettled and terrified.

The reminder of her skankier self had freaked her and she had nearly backed out of the ritual. It had been Tara’s soothing presence and soft-spoken words of reassurance that had restored her shaken confidence.

That, and also the exit stage left of Giles. He had sloped off in the middle of the night, leaving a note that had shaken them all to the core. Willow had been angry yet relieved when they had found the note in the Magic Box. She was sad to lose her confidant and friend, but at the same time, with him out the way they could do the ritual without any interference.

She felt a twinge of guilt for insisting on excluding Spike from the resurrection – but she knew that it was the right thing to do; he might have stopped them from doing it. She felt badly about leaving him out of the loop, in the past weeks they had barely had any time for hanging out. All so caught up in their plans to save Buffy, the core Scoobies had been absent from Spike, Dawn and Anne’s lives. They had carried on without them, all but ships that passed in the night.

Willow took a deep breath and glanced over at the others, they were as ready as they would ever be. And she knew she was.

And now it was time.

Chapter 8 Spike reached for his beer and took a long drink. He didn’t like the way his thoughts were meandering – he had already determined that Anne couldn’t be anything more than a friend. He had no idea what to do or say; this was something he had never experienced- living or dead. As a human, no woman had looked at him twice, except for his mother.

As a vampire he’d had Dru; no other woman had ever compared to her. Their love had been eternal, and mutually reciprocated –or so he’d thought. It had been perfect, until they had come to Sunnydale, and then it had all fallen to pieces. All because of her. The familiar catch-cry caught him unawares and Spike shut his eyes as he felt an excruciating pain shoot through his head.

He stifled an agonised groan.

He had loved her, but who was she? He couldn’t remember -why couldn’t he remember? The pain of not remembering love was killing him piece by terrible piece, starting with his brain.

Spike shifted in his seat and stared at Anne. He had to talk to her, break it to her gently somehow or go with the earlier idea he had of being a coward and getting Glinda to do it. He didn’t want to lose her friendship - it was a fragile gift that he cherished.

He wasn’t ready for love or anything, not after…

“Spike! Oh my god!” Dawn leapt to her feet and rushed over to her surrogate big brother.

“Jeez, what the hell happened?” Anne stood and stared in horror as blood poured from Spike’s nose, mouth and ears.

Spike pushed their hands away and grabbed a paper napkin; he wadded it under his nose and stood shakily. “S’all right, lemme go get cleaned up.” Spike staggered up the stairs and disappeared into the bathroom.

Anne and Dawn stared at the specks of blood that Spike had left behind him in horror.

“Has that happened before?” Anne whispered with fear tainting her voice. She was hesitant to asking anything about Spike after her aborted attempt to get Dawn to help in her pursuit of him. Anne had been taken aback by the sheer devastation in her adopted little sister’s eyes. So much so that she had reached out to touch Dawn, only to be rebuffed. Anne could still hear the venom in Dawn’s voice when she hissed at her not to touch her or Spike. And was puzzled by Dawn’s addendum that he wasn’t meant for her.

It had taken a good couple of weeks for the two of them to return to the easy friendship that Anne cherished so much. She was still puzzled by Dawn’s extreme reaction.

Anne, from the moment she discovered that Dawn was created by Monks and not born into this world, had felt a real affinity with her. Anne knew that she too was not truly real; she had been created because of a wish by someone called Cordy, who- from what Anne could glean- was not very well liked by the others.

Both she and Dawn were pseudo sisters -- magical in origin-- and Anne felt that this was something they had in common. So when Dawn had freaked at her, Anne had been determined to rebuild their friendship. Thank God she had managed to do so.

Despite the feeling that they shared more because of their mystical beginnings, Anne had hesitated to ask again for Dawn’s assistance in seducing Spike. She wanted to keep the tenuous status quo they had regained.

Instead, Anne had surreptitiously started reading Dawn’s teen magazines and also old copies of Comso, which she suspected had belonged to Buffy. The inexperienced teen had devoured them avidly; this was a world of glitter and glamour that she wasn’t used to and was now starting to crave. As she stared wistfully at the exotic models primped and preened to perfection, she had started to wonder if she was ugly because of her scars…Maybe Spike was revolted by them? Unbeknownst to her, the blond vampire admired them and saw them as her badges of courage and skill.

Gradually Anne began to alter her clothing, aided and abetted by Dawn who leant her some and also pilfered a few outfits from Buffy’s wardrobe. The two of them had also experimented with make up and hairstyling, and slowly Anne’s utilitarian look was changing. She still couldn’t comfortably walk in heels, though.

Still, Spike hadn’t responded to her makeover and attempts at flirting with him, and it hurt.

Dawn shook her head as guilt and worry filled her. ‘Oh my god, is this cos of the spell? Or is there something wrong with the chip…’ She began to mop at the blood Spike had lost with her napkin, trying to get rid of it. “No, I don’t think so.” Dawn’s voice pulled Anne from her maudlin reflections and back to the immediate problem. Spike was hurt and it made her ache inside in sympathy.

“He has been in pain quite a few times when we’ve been talking. I never realised how bad it was, though.” Anne began to stack the empty plates as she talked. She had noticed Spike more since she had become interested in him. There were times when Anne had thought he was going to pass out from pain, and then just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. She hadn’t noticed that the painful episodes coincided more and more with her fumbled attempts of attracting Spike’s attention.

She had no one to ask about Spike’s problem. Until recently, none of the Scoobies had even shown an interest in talking to her-- unless it was to discuss what monster of the week she had killed. Going to the Bronze for the first time all those weeks ago had terrified her, but it hadn’t been too bad- they hadn’t ignored her completely for a change. She had hoped that Spike would’ve noticed her killer outfit, but instead he had been aloof and later rejected her.

Later, when Willow had talked to her and set her mind at ease about being here to stay, her words had been music to Anne’s ears. And then she had hugged her, which was amazing. No one here had touched her so freely, not even Dawn. And after the way Spike reacted when she had reached for his hand, Anne had been determined to be more subtle in her attempts – and those had failed miserably. She wondered if Spike was still in love with Dru- he did mention her a lot.

His rejection had hurt her deeply. Again Anne wondered if it was because she was ugly, she had never had any guy interested in her and maybe it was because she was unattractive. It hurt to think that this was why Spike avoided her advances, and gradually the teen was becoming less and less confident.

“Do you think we should go and check on him?” Dawn whispered. She wrung her hands anxiously. It was all her fault, she just knew it!

Anne stared up the stairs, anxiety filling her. ‘Vampire’s don’t get ill…what the hell is wrong with him…’

********

Anya shivered and tried to re-light her black candle, ignoring Willow yelling at her to get ready. She knew that timing was essential for the ritual; Willow freaking at her was not helping! Midnight was the best time for any such ritual as this. It was when the barriers were at their weakest between the worlds of the dead and living.

She wasn’t too sure about raising Buffy. Xander said it felt wrong and he was right on the mark. It was wrong- they were meddling in forces that should be left well alone!

But Willow was the boss of the group- so here they were, waiting to get eaten by a vampire while Willow crossed over to the ‘darkside’ and raised Buffy with the impurest of magics. She wondered if the others even knew what the ritual entailed? She doubted it, otherwise they wouldn’t be here.

Anya stared over at Tara’s serene face and wondered if Willow had put a persuasion spell on her. The two wiccans had worked together on the spell and Tara would never agree to the use of Dark magicks. ‘Would Willow go that far in her search for power and to prove to us that she is a strong witch?’ Anya shivered again and this time it was not from the biting cold of the wind, but from fear. She stared at the urn and wondered if anyone else was aware of how tricky raisings were.

The ex-demoness had been witness to enough raisings that she knew if something went wrong, it would be squicky, and usually resulted in exploding entrails. Anya looked at the others and kept her council, knowing that they were suffering and she wanted them to be happy. And if Buffy’s soul was in hell like Willow said, then she was all aboard the ‘raise Buffy from the dead’ train.

“Anya, light the damn thing now!” Willow yelled. She was ready to go and the time was right.

“I got it! I got it!” Anya’s lighter finally lit and she managed to coax a small flame from the wick of her blessed candle.

“Start the circle… now!” Willow ordered.

“Osiris, Keeper of the gate, master of all fate, hear us,” she dipped her finger into the urn and marked her forehead and both cheeks with the blood. The scent of the blood didn’t bother her, not after being coated in it earlier as it fountained from the fawn’s slashed throat.

Xander glanced over at Willow and then looked at Tara, his face filled with anxiety and nerves. He was worried about Willow. He had no idea what the ritual entailed. Willow had kept them all out of the loop on the details; this was his best friend playing with the magics. He didn’t want to lose her as well as… Xander looked at the coffin they had dug up- as well as Buffy.

“Before time, and after. Before knowing and nothing,” Willow chanted, the excitement rising in her. This was going to be her greatest triumph, saving Buffy!

With a steady hand she poured the blood onto the earth at the foot of the coffin. “Accept our offering. Know our prayer,” Willow recited with an unwavering voice. She had always been good at memorising stuff and the spell was engraved on her mind.

Tara tried not to scream in fear; she was terrified that Willow was going to be hurt doing this. But she had promised her lover not to interfere; this was Willow’s one shot and she was determined to succeed. Tara looked at the ground and bit her lip, knowing that the testing of Willow’s resolve was coming and it wasn’t going to be pretty. It was coming soon; the Wiccan could smell the ether changing around them as Willow’s chant pulled the power of the heavens and earth towards her and the corpse in the coffin.

Willow jerked and her arms lifted- deep cuts appeared on them and pain railed through her. She heard Xander’s voice in the distance calling her name. Distantly she heard Tara warning him off, saying it was a test, but she couldn’t speak. There was a build up of power and it had ensnared her in its grip. It was amazing!

“Osiris! Here lies the warrior of the people. Let her cross over.” Willow chanted, her pain secondary to the magic that was beginning to roil within her. She could feel something crawling under her skin and it was weird, but she could live with it if the spell worked. She moaned quietly when the pain got too much and pushed past the high of the power in her.

“She needs help!” Xander called out worriedly. All he could think of as he watched the round things under her skin was the smelly guy in The Mummy- and that had not ended well for him once the scarab had gotten to the guys brain.

“Xander, she's strong! She said not to stop, no matter what. If we break the cycle now, it's over.” Tara’s voice prevented him from reaching for Willow.

Xander was beyond scared and heading towards Freaksville when Willow started retching.

“Osiris, let her cross over! Aah...” Willow lurched forward as her throat was filled with something cold and slimey trying to push it’s way out of her body. It hurt so badly, but there was nothing she could do now; it was too far into the spell to stop- even if she wanted too. Willow could vaguely hear Tara calling to god for help, terror filling her usually soft voice.

Willow dug her fingers into the cool grass and felt the snake slither free from her throat as its head appeared in her mouth. It dropped to the grass.

‘Oh mann, I’m gonna be sick. Just regular puke for the Xanman, no magic snakes!’ Xander stared as the snake slithered away and wondered whether Willow would ever be able to eat again- cos he was thinking not!

Anya glanced at the snake and shuddered. She was really glad she wasn’t dating Willow because there was no way she would be French kissing her after seeing that!

“It's a test. It's a test. Willow...” Tara watched as Willow panted for breath. Her hair stood up on the back of her neck. It was coming!

***********

Anne and Dawn finished washing up the dinner plates and put them away. They both froze when they heard Spike’s boot-clad feet thundering down the stairs. They exchanged a glance and waited for him to appear in the kitchen.

“Right, my lovelies, best be off to fight for puppies and whatnot.” Spike swung around the door. The only sign of what had happened earlier was the faint bruising under his eyes and the burst blood vessels that threaded across the whites of his eyes. His hair was a mass of wet curls from when he had dunked his head under the tap to get rid of the blood seeping out of his ears.

“Spike!” Dawn flung her arms around her vampire and squeezed him close. “Are you feeling okay?” She asked, her voice muffled against his t-shirt.

Spike patted her on the back and then eased away from her clutches. His head was pounding, but there was no way he’d admit that to his Nibblet. “M’fine luv, Ol’Spike is a tough bastard.”

“But Spike, you were bleeding!” Anne interjected. She was slightly envious of the ease at which Dawn touched Spike. Wishing she could hold him, too.

“Yeah, all better now, must’ve been the chip or something,” Spike replied dispassionately, his cavalier attitude belying his earlier ruminations. He had no idea what was wrong with him, but was determined to carry on. Dawn needed him strong and the others needed him for patrolling.

*******

Tara, Anya and Xander huddled together and watched the red glow that enveloped Willow.

The silence of the gravesite was broken only by the eerie noises of the magics as it surrounded Willow.

She was frozen in its grip, her arms rigidly outstretched as she let the power flow in and out of her. Panting occasionally when the surge was too much for her to bear.

The red haze was a column of light around her, pulling up from the ground and also pouring down from the heavens. There were flashes of white forms that circled Willow within the column of reddish orange light and then…

Willow took a deep breath and managed to complete the spell. “Osiris, release her!”

With those final words the power began to increase and jets of light were raining down from the heavens through the reddish haze that surrounded the newly initiated dark witch. Their impact made the coffin rattle and shake.

For several long minutes they watched as Willow was caught up in the surges. Tara and Anya clung to Xander, terrified beyond all reason. Their eyes flickered from Willow to the coffin, watching and waiting to see if they had succeeded.

“How much longer?” Anya hissed. “If we stay out here with the lightshow going on we’re gonna attract some less than friendly attention!”

“Shhh…look!” Xander whispered.

“At what?” Anya hissed.

“The coffin! Something’s happening!” Xander exclaimed excitedly.

A red mist seeped into the edges and disappeared. As this happened, the red column of light surrounding Willow vanished and she fell sideways into a dead faint.

Tara pulled free and rushed to Willow’s side, gently lifted her head onto her knees. Tara cradled her girl in her lap with shaking hands. She bit her lip at the clammy feel to Willow’s pale freckled skin. She smoothed her sweat soaked hair off her face and rocked back and forth.

Anya and Xander sank to their knees and stared at the coffin, waiting.

Inside the coffin, the red mist surrounded Buffy’s rotting corpse had begun to rebuild her destroyed body.

Red muscle tissue began to grow and cover her bones. Veins began to thread through the new tissues and filled with blood, causing the pale muscles to pinken. Her toes and fingers involuntarily twitched as nerves began to regenerate and electrical impulses began to be sent to her brain.

There was a faint grinding noise as bones shattered by the impact of her fall from Glory’s tower fused and healed. Slowly, layers of flesh began to cover the exposed sinews and Buffy’s body returned to her normal state. Her brittle hair began to smooth and its lustrous shine reappeared.

The rictus-like grin on her face eased away as her full lips reappeared and her eyes went from white to their normal hazel colour. The mist dissipated once it’s reconstructive work was done. It retreated into Buffy’s nose and mouth and began to reinflate her lungs and get her still heart pumping.

*********

“Did it work?” Willow rasped as she woke up and pushed away from Tara’s hands. She leaned over the open hole and gazed into Buffy’s grave at the coffin.

“There was a red mist and then nothing,” Anya replied. She looked at Tara and wondered if Willow had realised how much she had hurt the sweet wiccan by pushing her away.

“Can you hear something?” Xander leaned forward. “It sounded like a gasp, and it didn’t come from me-- cos all I wanna do is scream like a girly man!”

Anya cocked her head and listened- she could hear a scratching noise. “Oh!”

“What?” Tara crawled over and sat next to Willow. She tried not to say anything when Willow straightened away from her touch. She stared into the open grave, eager to witness her magical triumph.

“From the coffin!” Xander yelled.

“It worked! Quick, open it!” Willow screamed excitedly.

Xander swung his rubbery legs over the open grave and jumped down, angling his feet and managing to stand awkwardly in the hole alongside the now shaking coffin. “Are we sure? What if she’s all gross?”

“Xander!” Anya yelled in exasperation.

“Open it!” Tara gasped. “She’ll be terrified!”

Xander wiped his hands on his jeans and took a deep breath before flinging the coffin lid open.

There was a pause as everyone stared down, wanting to see if the raising had worked.

If Buffy was finally back with them.

********

“Nibblet, Tara said she’d be over later to keep you company while we’re out on patrol.” Spike brushed a kiss on the top of her head. He had managed to get them to stop clucking over him. Spike was fed up with being in pain, he wanted to get out there and kill something. Maybe his inflicting pain on a demon or two would distract him from his own… Preferably vamp Willow and her three stooges.

Dawn nodded. “I will. I swear I won’t go out.”

“Promise?” Anne raised her eyebrows in question. Dawn had been caught out so many times that Spike had threatened to chain her to the banisters if he ever found her wandering the streets at night.

She wanted to talk to Tara about Spike, and also see if she could weasel out of the shy wiccan whatever it was the others were hiding from them. Tara was the only one that Dawn knew she could ask, so she was going to wait for her. Besides, Janice was out of town visiting her grandma.

“I swear I’ll wait here for Tara; I’ve got homework to do as well.” Dawn wanted them gone so she could read over the spell again and see if Spike’s bleeding all over the place was connected to it like she suspected. The teen had no idea what to do and deep down she realised she was gonna have to come clean about what she had done. And that sucked.

“Good. If you want, I’ll bring you back a fang or somthin’?” Spike offered with a smirk.

Dawn rolled her eyes, “Gross! But, okay…now go kill the baddies!”

With that, Anne and Spike collected their stakes and axes and headed out, locking the front door behind them.

********

Buffy took a deep breath and screamed at the top of her lungs. One moment she was at peace, and then the next she was in hell.

Xander fell back against the wall of the grave and a shower of dirt fell on him and Buffy.

She lurched up with another scream, her hands clawing at her hair. Disoriented and terrified. It was dark and cold here- not like the other place where she had been warm and safe.

“Buffy!” Willow, Anya and Tara yelled in unison.

“Buffster?” Xander reached down and pulled her up into his arms.

Buffy clung to him and took deep, gasping breaths- her muscles were weak and she couldn’t hold herself upright. She tried to take comfort from his hold, but it wasn’t enough – it would never be enough. She wanted to go back!

“Here, let us help.” Tara reached down and grabbed Buffy’s arms; she pulled as Xander lifted Buffy up and out of her grave. Tara and Buffy fell backwards onto the grass, their arms wrapped around each other.

“It worked…it worked…she’s back! She’s safe!” Willow chanted happily as she ran her hands over Buffy’s shaking form.

Anya reached over and helped Xander out of the grave. “You okay, honey?”

Xander hugged her close and stared at Buffy, who was now sitting up and looking around with an expression of confusion.

“Buffy?” Willow reached over and smoothed her friend’s dishevelled hair. “Can you hear me?”

Buffy’s mind was filled with confusion and terror. Her eyes were finding it hard to focus and it was cold. She shivered and snuggled closer to the warm form that was holding her, trying to draw heat from her.

“We should get her home!” Tara exclaimed. She could feel Buffy’s tremors and wanted to get her out of the cold.

Willow looked crestfallen at Buffy’s unresponsiveness. “Buffy, can’t you say something?”
The small blonde cocked her head and opened her mouth, but a croak was all she could manage.

“Okay, let’s get you indoors!” Xander scooped Buffy up and nodded for the others to follow him. Buffy closed her eyes and let the darkness pull her under and into blissful oblivion. She was relieved when it consumed her as it meant she didn’t have to say or do anything. It hurt to breathe, let alone speak.

“Is she okay?” Anya asked as she watched Buffy’s eyes close.

“Yeah, I think she’s asleep,” Xander replied with a smile. It had worked. They had Buffy back!
Willow and Tara stumbled along behind the other three, both supporting the other.

“Dawn is going to be so surprised! And Spike!” Anya exclaimed, oblivious to the worried looks the two wiccans exchanged. Both of them where wondering how Spike would react when facing his lost, and possibly forgotten, love.

*******

“So, you’ll take the Northside and I’ll go to the factory area?” Spike waved goodbye as he loped off. He wanted to go to the Industrial area, something in his gut was telling me that was where his Aurelian family were camped out. He wanted to check the area alone; if he took Anne there she might get hurt.
Anne watched him disappear into the darkness, a small pout on her scarred lips. Spike was avoiding her because of the handholding, she knew it.

“Sure…” With that she turned and headed off. Deep down she knew it was the best thing to do – they had to find Vamp Willow’s lair and destroy whomever else she had turned.

************

Anya trailed behind Xander, who was still carrying Buffy’s limp form. She hadn’t stirred since the graveyard and he was beginning to worry that she had come back wrong.

Behind them, Tara and Willow walked slowly. Tara was supporting her exhausted lover who, despite her tiredness, was babbling excitedly about how successful she had been and completely unaware of the tightness of Tara’s mouth. She had realised as the ritual had continued that Willow had changed a lot of it. And it had all been too dark for her taste.

Tara stared at Willow’s animated face and wondered when her Willowtree had changed so much-- and why she hadn’t noticed it. She bit her lip hard, terrified that if she spoke it would be to denounce Willow as a Sorceress, and she didn’t want to voice those words. It would make them true once she uttered them.

If she did, then there would be recriminations and arguments, and the consequences of that confrontation, Tara knew, would be devastating for their relationship and also for the others. Tara stared at Xander’s back; she realised that in his eyes Willow could do no wrong, and if she brought this up then the core group would fracture.

Anya looked over her shoulder and caught Tara’s worried eyes for a brief moment and in that second, Tara realised that Anya knew as well. Shamed, Tara looked away and sighed. It was her fault that Willow had turned to the dark magics; she should have watched her more closely.

“W…where am I? Is this hell?” Buffy’s whispered questions halted them in their tracks.

“Buffy!” They all cried in unison.

Buffy cringed back against Xander’s chest at their loud voices filled with excitement.

“Buffster! You’re awake!” Xander grinned happily down at her tired face. The others surrounded him, their hands fluttering over Buffy’s limp form. She shied away from their touch - it hurt her skin.

“Is this hell? Why am I here?” she rasped out, her vocal cords unused to being used after so many months.

“No! Buffy, you’re home! I brought you back!” Willow exclaimed excitedly. “I saved you from Hell; this is home!”

Buffy rolled her head and stared in shock at Willow. “Home? Why…” She pushed at Xander’s chest and he set her down gently. Steadying her when her knees trembled.

“Why, what?” Willow’s forehead crinkled in confusion.

“She’s not very grateful that we rescued her from untold torments?” Anya huffed.

“Maybe we should get you home, Buffy. To Dawnie?” Tara interjected before anyone yelled at Anya or questioned Buffy too closely. She could see the distress in Buffy’s aura and hoped it was as a result of the magics used and nothing else.

“Dawnie?” Buffy’s eyes lit up. “She’s okay?”

“Yeah Buffster, she is. But she missed you, and so did we.” Xander patted her gingerly on the shoulder. Willow stared angrily at Buffy, wondering why she wasn’t screaming with joy that she was back.

“I want to see Dawn.” Buffy turned and began to walk slowly towards home without a backward glance.

Chapter 9:

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