It got so bad eventually that only Willow, Spike, and Buffy went out. Always together. Always bringing back worse news and (less and less often) a new person.

It was when Xander and Andrew were killed that they all knew it was time to go. With Willow and Giles arguing over which books were essential enough to take along, Buffy fighting every punching bag, old can of paint, and dust mote in the basement and Spike getting yet another Winnie, it was left to Dawn to take care of the mess that was Anya.

The tears that ran down her face were an unending river as she watched Dawn pack her things. She answered with as few words as possible when Dawn asked her about a shirt or jacket. She ate what Dawn put in front of her and showered when Dawn told her to.

*

“We should take the money.”

It was their last day in Sunnydale and Dawn had been midsentence babbling to Anya about what she should wear.

“What?”

It was the first time in a long while Anya had spoken without a question first being asked her ad Dawn wasn’t sure how to react, afraid that anything she said would shut Anya up again.

“The money. From the Magic Box till. We’ll need it.”

“Oh,” said Dawn softly. She picked up the hairbrush from off the night stand and began brushing Anya’s hair back into a ponytail. “I think money’s… well I don’t think people use it anymore. They mostly want, like, //stuff//.”

Anya frowned. “The barter system is a troublesome way to function. The value of the goods is rarely equal.”

A horn honked outside and Dawn was saved form having to come up with a response.

The strangeness of a car horn these days was enough to pull even Anya off the bed and the two girls looked out at Spike in the shiny new Winnebago below.

It was time to go.