Willow's first day quitting magic cold turkey was a rough one, to say the least. She had been tossing and turning all night, slipping in and out of consciousness. On top of this, she had been cycling through the typical withdrawal symptoms, mainly the sessions of night sweats followed by chills that ran from her head to her toes, causing each individual hair to stand on end. Currently, she was in the latter stage. She had pulled on a pair of fleece pajama pants and a sweatshirt, and was now burrowed under the comforter, hoping to consolidate her body heat. Teeth chattering away, Willow peeked out from under the covers at her bedside clock. It was still only 2:00 am. She pulled up the hood of her UC Sunnydale sweatshirt and ducked back under the comforter, tears of frustration pricking at her eyes. Withdrawal really is a bitch.
Her friends, though angry with her, tried to help out in any way they could. They assured Willow that she'd get through this and be herself again. And as much as Willow wanted to get better, she doubted herself more than anyone. The magic had become such a big part of her that she didn't know where she ended and it began. This was a truly terrifying thought to the redhead, whom started to whimper as the guilt, fear, and physical pain began to build up. She was nothing without magic. The real Willow was a coward, and useful for nothing but the research the Scoobies spent so much time doing. Her heart started to race, and she felt the adrenaline that comes with anger flowing through her veins. Without magic, she was worthless. Why go through all this pain to end up no one?
Willow unclenched her fists and tried to remove the scowl from her face. She needed to snap herself out of it. She knew her mind was just messing with her, and she really did realize her importance. It was just too much. It was all just too much for her to take. The goosebumps patterning her entire body, making her normally smooth skin textured and susceptible to the biting cold. The relentless feeling of nausea that wrapped around her insides and creeped up her throat, threatening to spill over at any moment. The constant wetness on her cheeks due to her fragile emotional state, which only dried to leave splotches of even colder skin. And of course, this recognition of her symptoms only brought them to the forefront of her attention.
Willow was really crying now, the anger she felt previously completely diminished and replaced with sorrow. The blankets shuddered along with her, offering little consolation. She squirmed underneath them, trying desperately to get comfortable so that maybe, just maybe, she could fall asleep and find release from the nightmare that had become her reality. She could hear her pulse thundering in her ears, drowning out any white noise the world outside provided. She clenched her eyes shut and grit her teeth, wondering if the nights to follow would be so miserable.
Buffy lay awake in her bed, unable to take her mind off the redhead in the room down the hall. She wondered whether she had ever felt so conflicted. Willow had almost got Dawn killed and was closer to going off the deep end than ever, yet Buffy couldn't bring herself to kick the witch out. She couldn't even muster up any feelings of hatred towards Willow. It just wasn't in her. It was especially difficult after seeing the remorse and anguish in Willow's eyes when Buffy turned her back on her earlier that day, right after the incident with Dawn occurred. She could tell that even though Willow kept breaking her promises, she had never meant to hurt anyone, and had finally admitted to herself that she needed help. That's the first step of rehab: recognizing your issues.
Buffy continued to mull over her current predicament and the motives behind her leniency towards Willow until she heard someone whimpering. Knowing immediately who it was, Buffy forgot all about her second thoughts and jumped out of bed. On instinct, she strode down the hall to Willow's door, the sound of the redhead's suffering tugging at her heartstrings. She opened the door, and her heart sank.
The light from the hallway revealed dried tear tracks on Willow's cheeks as her head thrashed back and forth restlessly, eyebrows upturned in signature Willow fashion. She was whimpering and muttering nonsense, clearly distressed. Buffy could see the unnatural paleness of her face and hands, and it was impossible to miss the vigorous shivers that wracked her entire body. She had never seen Willow more vulnerable, weak, and flat out miserable in the six years she's known her than she was now.
Buffy tiptoed across the floor and sat on the very edge of the bed, trying not to disturb the witch's shallow slumber. "Will? Can you hear me?" Buffy whispered.
Met with only the same whimpering as before, Buffy decided to take it upon herself to try and make Willow more comfortable. She jogged into the bathroom, footfalls as light as a feather, and soaked a washcloth in warm water. Upon re-entering the bedroom, she draped the washcloth over Willow's forehead and slid into the bed with her. Things had been awkward with Willow lately, but Buffy wasn't about to let her best friend suffer when she wasn't even entirely to blame for the way she acted while under the influence of black magic.
Buffy wrapped her arms around Willow's waist, and situated herself so that her front was pressed against Willow's back. She tangled their legs together, alarmed by the sheer frigidness of Willow's feet. When the redhead released a heavy sigh and pressed back into Buffy, shivers subsiding, the blonde knew she had made the right decision. Also, she recognized that she wasn't getting up anytime soon. It crossed her mind that Willow was probably hallucinating and believed that it was Tara comforting her, but Buffy decided that it was no matter; it may even make things less awkward between her and Willow the next day. Buffy gave the ex-witch's hand a squeeze, muttered a goodnight so quiet it was barely a whisper, and prepared to serve as Willow's blanket for the rest of the night.
Unbeknownst to the blonde, Willow was conscious enough to know full well that the woman behind her was definitely none other than Buffy Summers, and was immensely grateful for her unconditional affection. Willow was finally able to get comfortable, and thus slipped into an uninterrupted slumber for the rest of the night. At the last moment of consciousness before sleep, she realized that she would indeed beat the dark magic that plagued her mind. It didn't matter how long it took, or how hard it'd be, since she had her friends by her side. Willow finally fell asleep with the feeling of being loved fresh in her weary mind.