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She's scared, sobbing, and shaking. She's clutching at me with all her strength that I'm sure will leave little Dawn finger bruises across my arms, body. I'm clutching at her relatively harder. I know it won't do a thing because I'm shaking like every seizure I ever read about.

Yes, there was a period where nerdy, little, Willow wanted to be a doctor. You save people, right? It's hard work, grueling hours, but you're a hero. I just took the more interesting way of getting there. I'm trying to stop the killing at its source. I am the killing.

It's like... the dark side of the Force. Or Karma. Karma has much better applications in a world with magic junkies. I'm spreading my negative energy on to other people. Negative energy I stockpiled through other lives, finally coming to haunt me here. There's a good chance that everyone I victimized with my magic will go on to do the same thing in another life if they haven't already. Why? Why waste more time with violence, anger, pain, when it seems that all the children have learned their lesson?

There are two sides to every coin, and you have to land on both to really get the picture.

I think I just bastardized another religion. This is four.

She's stroking up and down my hair and I realize I'm sobbing louder. Mourning the loss of another attempt at spirituality. And Dawn, of all people, came to comfort me.

Dawn's always seemed a little different from us. Seen things a little different from us. We think it's because she's younger. I think it's because she's older. I've always wanted to do a a spell that might give Dawn all the knowledge the Key possesses. Thousands upon thousands of years' compressed into a teenage girl. But that's old Willow talking because new Willow wouldn't do that. New Willow says 'no' to temptation. New Willow begs Dawn not to leave her. And she doesn't.

Dawn, in her compassion and heartbreak, stays by Willow's side all night. She holds her until the auburn haired girl has cried herself to sleep and then, ignoring her restless energy, she muses. All teenage girls muse, dream. Perhaps Dawn more than is usual but now she muses on something truly important to her world. Love.

Dawn can unconditionally accept Willow. Willow broke her arm, killed, tortured, beat, destroyed, and came within two minutes of making non-existence the standard. But her conviction never wavered because this was Willow. Her Willow. Her friend, hero, and example of what to never ever chose to be.

Buffy has shirts lying around older than Dawn. The Key is a girl, who in her inexperience and infinite realm of possibilities, choses to forgive, like a small child who thinks 'sorry' is duct tape for the mind. Forgiveness is fickle. She could never forgive Warren for killing Tara. Her friend, her calm, her example.

And now she's trying to rationalize her emotions while Willow whimpers and latches on to her. She's making nonsense noises to a killer and forcing the sick part of her mind from making quips at her.

She's holding on again, unaware of the fact that, come morning, Willow will bear her marks and not give a damn what anyone thinks. Buffy and Anya will know the bruises aren't from the battle. Xander will give his best friend a hug and whip out the first aid kit. He'll feel helpful, be attentive.

Giles will hug Willow gently and notice every scrape from the day before, looking for any sign of magickal side effects. He'll start thinking ahead. The withdrawal symptoms will get worse everyday and someone needs to know what to do. Someone needs to know how far is too far because as much as he cares, he won't see her making it much longer on her own.

This is chance three. Or four. It's a sick pattern.

Tomorrow isn't now, though and for now Dawn's going to lose herself in the physical presence of someone else. She's going inhale the scent of incense and ozone that never leaves Willow of late. She's going to enjoy bringing the witch a tiny bit of unconscious comfort and beat back the harsh voice in her head that questions her hands softly stroking the matted red hair.

For a minute, Dawn wanders back into her mind. She asks the universe how much darkness lay in the endless knowledge of time that makes her. Then Willow whispers her name with a sleepy reverence and she smiles, holding on a little tighter.