Title: Judgment
Author: Medea
Email: medealives@hotmail.com
Pairing: Willow/Angel friendship, Buffy/Spike
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Willow's joyride in 'Wrecked' was only the beginning of her downward spiral.
Spoilers: Through BtVS "Smashed" and "Wrecked"; and AtS "Lullaby"
Archive: Please do.
Disclaimer: Joss created. I am not Joss. Therefore, not mine, never will be. Pity, that.
Note: A response to Kendra A's challenge to "fix" Wrecked, although I don't really feel that the ep needed fixing. There's nothing wrong with taking a character through the moral gray zone. I kinda thought it gave Willow some interesting nuances.
Note 2: This is not part of the Masters and Minions universe -- Willow is human. For Willow/Angel fans -- it comes later in the story, but it *will* come.
Feedback: Much appreciated: medealives@hotmail.com

~Part: 4~


Spike leaned against the wall and observed Willow, still huddled and shivering. He'd seen humans like this plenty of times before. Hell, before the chip he'd reduced people to this state on a nightly basis -- cowering, whimpering, shaking in terror.

Those were the days.

His eyes narrowed as he found himself unable to reconcile those memories entirely with the witch's condition. Sure, there were superficial similarities. Physically, humans were all pretty much the same. The racing pulse; the dilated pupils; the unconscious, instinctive attempts to shrink in on themselves, as if to disappear into the background; and the intoxicating scent of adrenaline, sweat, and mortal fear.

Spike sniffed the air and closed his eyes, momentarily abandoning himself to the heady blend.

He shook himself out of it and went back to watching her. Willow definitely wasn't your run-of-the-mill human. This one had teeth, and not just because of the magic. On more than one occasion, Willow had surprised him -- she'd shown a lot of backbone for such a fluffy little wallflower.

'Course, he'd been stinking drunk on one of those occasions. Still, he wouldn't have pegged her as one to stand up to a mean drunk, let alone a mean drunk who happened to be a vamp with a broken bottle.

Tougher than she looked at first glance, this one.

Hadn't surprised him at all when she'd cut the hell bitch down to size.

But this...

Willow whimpered, her shoulder twitching involuntarily.

This just didn't fit. Something wasn't right.

He'd figured part of it. After Buffy had gone, Spike had settled in across from the chained witch and attuned himself to her. It took him awhile to pick up on it, and at first it had nearly frozen the blood in his veins.

Willow's power was still in her. She practically reeked of magic.

What Spike couldn't figure was why she'd been reduced to the pitiful, cringing creature before him, since her power appeared to be intact.

His first impulse had been to warn Buffy, but he decided leaving Willow unattended would be too risky. Best to wait until Buffy came back.

Besides...if Niblet knew that they hadn't managed to strip Willow of her power, she'd be scared to death. He'd be damned if he'd be the cause of that.

Spike shifted slightly against the wall and frowned.

Buffy rejoined Tara in the living room. As she approached, Tara swallowed a yawn and said, "So...that was Angel?"

"Yeah," Buffy nodded. "He works with someone who used to be a Watcher. Angel said they'd do some research and let us know what they find."

Blinking, Tara brought her fist up to her mouth to cover another yawn. Buffy grinned and said, "Why don't you go upstairs and get some sleep. Your old bed should still be made up." As she spoke, Buffy's expression clouded and she grew flustered. "Oh...uh, I mean, if it doesn't bother you to sleep in the bed you and Willow....you know, on second thought, why don't I just get some sheets and blankets and make up the couch for you? It's nice and comfy."

Tara grinned broadly and her eyes twinkled with amusement. "It's okay. I'll take the bed. But thanks for being concerned."

Buffy's reply was interrupted by a piercing scream that carried downstairs from Dawn's room. Even before a look of horror gripped Tara's face, Buffy was racing up the stairs to pulverize whatever threatened her sister.

Dawn struggled desperately to move, but her body refused to respond. Everything was dark...blurred...She couldn't see her surroundings, but the setting was horribly familiar.

A cold pit formed in Dawn's stomach as Willow came into focus, her eyes black and void. In slow motion, Willow raised her hands as she mouthed words Dawn couldn't hear. But other words, so casual -- so cruel -- flashed through Dawn's mind.

Willow moved closer, her hands glowing red. Panic seized Dawn. No...no ...not again! No! Stop it! Stop it!

But Dawn couldn't move, couldn't speak. Helplessly, she watched the nightmare unfold. Dawn felt the agonizing, searing pain as her forehead blistered beneath Willow's hands. Even worse, though, was the humiliation. Dawn wanted to cry, wanted to scream, because Willow had forced her to face the truth.

She was just a *thing* after all; a Key, a tool -- a power source Willow could tap into.

Dawn wanted to disappear.

She strained against the oppressive paralysis that left her helpless, willed her body to thrash, kick -- anything to escape the terror. It smothered her.

Distantly, she heard a voice calling her name.

"Dawn."

She tried to call for help, scream, anything. Then Willow gripped her shoulders and shook. Hard. Willow mouthed her name, but to Dawn it seemed like the voice came from somewhere else.

"DAWN!!"

Dawn jerked awake, screaming hoarsely. She sat bolt upright in her bed and panted furiously. Gradually, she realized that strong, comforting arms were wrapped around her. Trembling, she brought her eyes up to meet her sister's.

"Buffy?" she whispered.

"Shh...it's okay, I'm here, Dawnie. I've got you," Buffy assured her, holding her close.

Dawn's face crumbled and she collapsed in tears. She sobbed violently against Buffy's shoulder, shuddering as Buffy stroked her hair.

After several minutes, Dawn calmed in Buffy's embrace. Even so, a chill ran through her as she hiccuped, "I-it was hap-pening a-all over again."

Dimly, Dawn became aware of Tara, who sat down beside her and placed a comforting hand on her back. Dawn closed her eyes and breathed deeply as Tara and her sister enveloped her in safety.

She just wished the dreams would stop.

Spike jerked as Buffy slammed open the door and strode into his crypt, gripping the charmed sceptre she'd wielded last night. She looked for all the world like she was prepared to work the witch over. Buffy clenched her jaw and stared coldly at Willow as she advanced. Spike rose at her approach.

"Has she done anything since I left?" Buffy demanded in a low voice.

"Not a peep," Spike shook his head. "Fewer signs of life in there than with Yours Truly. But..."

"But...?" Buffy prompted sternly, her gaze deadly serious.

Spike steeled himself for the explosion. "She's lousy with magic. I can feel it all over her."

For a split second, Buffy was perfectly still. Then her eyebrows drew together sharply as her eyes flashed with anger. Charging forward until she was in his face, she seethed, "And you didn't come tell me?"

"Ease up!" Spike growled. Moderating his tone slightly, he explained, "First of all, didn't think it was safe to leave the witch alone. Second, magic's not the dark stuff. Whatever's up with her, she's not givin' off the Big Bad vibe any more."

"You can't know what's going on with her!" Buffy fired back, pointing accusingly at Willow. "You said yourself this could be an act. Dawn had a nightmare not even an hour ago -- she said it was like experiencing it all over again!"

Spike closed his eyes in frustration, then opened them again and tried to speak calmly. "Buffy, Niblet's been havin' nightmares since it happened. 's how you humans deal with trauma. Doesn't mean the witch is--"

Eyes frozen with astonishment, Spike halted mid-sentence. He'd turned to gesture at the huddled, incapacitated witch, but found her watching them both. Willow trembled and blinked uncontrollably, but there was no menace in her eyes. To Spike, it barely seemed as if she recognized them. She was definitely conscious of her surroundings, though. He watched as her eyes flitted nervously from him, to Buffy, then down to the floor, and back up again.

Warily, Buffy raised the charmed sceptre before her and addressed their captive. "Willow?"

Willow cringed at the mention of her name and her eyes darted nervously to Buffy. Spike thought he'd detected a slight increase in her heart rate when Buffy had spoken to her, but it was hard to tell. As it was, Willow's heart was already pounding furiously.

"Willow?" Buffy repeated tersely.

This time, Spike caught it -- Willow's heart beat just a little faster at the sound of her name.

"She understands that much," he informed Buffy.

Willow shook more forcefully and tears welled in her eyes. She wept openly and began to rock back and forth. Her mouth moved almost imperceptibly, but her murmurs were too soft for Buffy or Spike to make them out clearly.

Buffy's muscles tensed for combat. She inclined her head toward Spike and demanded, "What is she saying? Is it an incantation?"

Spike strained to hear Willow's words. Finally, his acute hearing picked up a single phrase which Willow repeated over and over.

"I'm sorry....I'm sorry....I'm sorry....I'm sorry....I'm sorry...."




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