(This takes place after 'Chosen'... Only, in this, Sunnydale's not completely
destroyed. A few places still remain.)
Chapter 1
The new-become Slayers, previously known as the Potentials, had gone their separate ways. Some back to their homes, others out on their own. Knowing that they now had the strength and ability to fend for themselves, they went off to do just that. They didn't need to sit huddled in corners any longer waiting for Buffy or Faith to protect them. They, now, would be doing the protecting.
With the Summers' home now free of teenagers, save Dawn - Buffy, Xander, Willow, Faith, Andrew, and the afore mentioned teenager, could finally settle down and get a decent night of sleep. However, after the last Slayer was packed and out of the house, there was no one head on a pillow, nor any two eyes closed. As tired as the gang was, they couldn't bring themselves to sleep. Perhaps they were afraid of what dreams may be brought about after such chaotic and cataclysmic events. Perhaps the adrenaline was still pumping through their bodies and even if they had wanted to, they couldn't have slept. Or maybe they just wanted to stay awake and attempt to absorb everything that had happened in these previous couple of months in their lives. Whatever the reason, not one of the surviving fell asleep that night.
The house was a mess. When the large part of Sunnydale fell into oblivion, it sent a good sized quake through what was left of the hell-town. Revello Drive survived, as well as the Espresso Pump and The Magic Box. That was about it. Every other landmark had been sucked into the earth. Streets, now covered in dust and dirt, remained, as did a few trees. After such a phenomena, it was expected there'd be a horrific hole in the ground, only there wasn't. It was as if everything had been enveloped and consumed by the earth. As if its mouth opened, took a bite, and closed again. The land was there. You couldn't necessarily notice it was the same land, being the landmarks were gone, but the ground, the floor, was still there. This made it possible for the Scoobies to walk, or drive, to wherever they needed to go; despite the fact there wasn't really anywhere left worth going.
Buffy slumped down the stairs, still in a state of shock. She'd been that way since she became aware that her beloved town was destroyed. That town had seen the end of her, twice, but she loved it. It was where she met Giles and Willow and Xander. It was where she graduated from high school, and went to college. It was where she met the love her life. She had grown to accept and finally love this town, and now it was gone. Destroyed. Tears welled up in her sparkling green eyes when she saw the ruined remains of the place where she became someone she never would have even known existed eight years prior. It was hard. She was overcome with joyous emotions when she found that her home, the home she had lived in for the last seven years, was still standing. It wouldn't be the same house, of course, because it wouldn't be in the same town, but it was still her home, and she loved it. This house held many memories. A lot of which no one particularly wanted to remember, but memories are memories. No matter what those memories may contain.
As Buffy slowly descended the staircase, she looked around trying to figure out what in the house was still salvageable. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she peered into the living room, now dark, dusty, and in shambles, and she saw her friends standing about in consistent group embraces. Mid-embrace, Dawn caught a glimpse of Buffy, and called her name.
"Buffy, come on over." Dawn said with an innocence that Buffy knew was more of a show than reality.
"No, I'm good, but thanks. I have to see what's still good in the house. We might not be able to stay here." She replied as she headed towards the kitchen. She took a look around of what was left of the dining area. She noticed, on the floor, under a pile of rubble, Willow's laptop computer. She picked it up, dusted it off with her hand, and turned it over in her hands to see if there was any visible damage. It looked good. Buffy headed into the kitchen, searched though the misassembled drawers until she found a plastic bag. She placed Willow's computer into the bag and kept searching the house for other items that would be useful to them and that they'd be able to keep. Everything she found, she placed in the plastic bag. She didn't figure the bag would get too full. She wasn't expecting to find much that would be of use to them anymore.
*****
In the living room, the gang was now assembled sporadically across the floor. They sat talking quietly to one another, aware that theirs was the only sound in all of what was left of Sunndale.
"What are we going to do now?" Dawn asked.
"You mean, for the rest of our lives?" Xander replied.
"Yeah, I mean, I don't have to go to school, you don't have to go to work, we have the whole town to ourselves. I say we party." Dawn said, attempting sarcasm.
The whole group shot her an identical look of disbelief and frustration. "We'd usually appreciate your humor there, Dawnie, now's just not the best time for it." Willow said, comforting.
Dawn simply looked down, crossed her legs, and nodded her head.
"What's B up to?" Faith said, breaking the silence.
"She's checking the house to see if it's still livable. I guess she doesn't think it can handle us being here anymore." Xander responded.
"Well, we're doing no good just sitting around here, let's go help her." Faith said, standing.
No reply.
"C'mon you guys. What else are you going to do, but sit here and feel sorry for yourselves? Get up and make yourselves useful!"
No reply.
"Fine, suit yourselves. I'm gonna help B." She said, walking towards the kitchen.
Willow looked up at Faith as she turned and walked away. She then glanced over at Xander who looked like he was feeling the same way that Willow felt. Guilty for not helping out. Upset at Faith for having the stamina to be of help. And too tired to actually say anything about it.
Dawn stood up and motioned Andrew to follow her. He shook his head. She reached down, grabbed his arm and pulled him with her.
"I need to talk to you. Just come with me. Jeez!"
Andrew followed Dawn into the backyard of the house.
Willow watched them stand and leave. To Xander, she revealed her thoughts out loud, "You know, I could do a spell and this place would be clean in no time. I could even do a spell to help us locate the things in the house that we could still use." Willow said, her spirits raised just a bit.
"I don't know, Will. Magick and you haven't gotten along well together in the past."
"No, I did the spell to turn all the Potentials into Slayers, and that worked out just fine, thank you very much."
"Yeah, but the whole town was eaten in the midst of that."
"Oh c'mon, that wasn't my fault." Willow scoffed.
"I know, Will. I'm trying to make with the funny here."
Willow rolled her eyes, "Well, I'll at least ask Buffy if she thinks it's a good idea. It would save her a lot of labor hours." She stood and exited the same way she saw Faith exit.
Xander smiled as Willow left the room. He loved her. And he knew, now, that she had control over her powers, and that she wouldn't allow Evil Willow to take her over again, but there was just something about her doing spells that made him uneasy. He always thought it was because Anya didn't like it when Willow messed with the magicks, but if that were the case he wouldn't feel uneasy now. With that thought, memories of Anya came flooding back to him. He hadn't let himself grieve for her yet, because everything that had happened, had just happened, and he had to survive before he let himself realize that Anya hadn't survived. Andrew had told him that she went out as a hero, fighting and saving lives, and he was so proud of her for that, but he missed her terribly. It had only been just over five hours since Sunnydale fell into nothingness, yet to Xander, it seemed like an eternity he had already spent without Anya. When Joyce had passed away, not even three years prior, Anya had made comments about Joyce never being able to do anything ever again. Now Xander was filled with that same discomfort. Thoughts flowed through his mind of everything Anya would never be able to do again. Laugh. Cry. Speak. Dance. He'd give anything to have her in his arms again. He'd give his other eye if he could. But alas, that time has passed. Tears surfaced and steadily streamed down his face. He covered his face with his hands and silently wept.
*****
At last, Faith caught up with Buffy in Willow's old room, which had just recently been Buffy's room, which before any of the previous misadventures had happened, it had been Joyce's room.
"B, whatcha up to?"
"Just looking for stuff."
"I see that. What kind of stuff?"
"Anything. Stuff that we can still use."
Sensing Buffy didn't want to make with the small talk, Faith announced her offer to help.
"No. I'm good here. Thanks though." was Buffy's response.
"Nah, B, I want to help. Just point the way, and I'll obey." Faith said, making it obvious she didn't mean to make a rhyme out of it.
"Okay, sure, whatever. Start over there." She pointed to a pile of wood that used to be a writing desk, "Just take out the stuff you think will be useful to us, and put it in this bag." Buffy set the plastic bag down in the middle of the room.
Faith shrugged. "You're the boss."
*****
On the back porch to the house, Dawn and Andrew sat on the steps, facing one another.
"What do you need to talk to me about?" Andrew asked.
"This is going to sound weird and gross and kind of morbid, but just please listen, okay?"
Andrew nodded.
Dawn exhaled. "You were with Anya when she— You know."
Andrew nodded, this clearly a sensitive subject for him, and for good reason.
"What I want to know, or need to know, is if it was painful. I mean, did it look painful?" She continued.
Andrew just stared at Dawn, expressionless, un-answering.
"Well?" She pleaded, with determination in her eyes.
Andrew looked down at his fidgeting hands and shook his head. "It looked painful. It looked like it hurt—a lot." He managed, with tears in his eyes.
"Oh." Dawn replied, clearly upset about Andrew's answer.
Andrew sighed. "Why did you 'need' to know?"
Dawn let out a staggered exhale and leaned forward with her elbow on her knee, and her head in her hand. A tear rolled down her cheek and off of her hand. "So many people have died. None of them deserved it. Every time someone I know dies, it makes me hate myself even more. Why should I be allowed to stay alive when all of these people around me are dying? When Mom died, it was so hard, but I had Buffy there with me. When Buffy died, I had her final words to me to keep me going. I've had so many friends from school who have been there one day, and then just never show up again. Now Anya? And Spike? What am I supposed to do, Andrew? I can't keep living like this. In a world where everyone around me dies, and I'm left with nothing but scratches and bruises. I hate that I'm alive now and Anya's not. I hate that she had to die a horrible painful death, and I'm here, alive, with the rest of my life in front of me..." She tried to continue, but the tears overcame her. She buried her head in her hands and sobbed.
Andrew didn't know what to say. He was speechless for the first time that he could remember. He knew that there was nothing he could say to make her feel better, and he feared that anything he might say would only make things worse. He simply outstretched a hand to her, and she jumped to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and cried.
*****
Willow started ascending the staircase after she had searched the first story, to no avail, for Buffy and Faith. As she neared the top she heard what sounded like muffled cries coming from below her. She realized that since it was very quiet to her, then those downstairs should most likely be hearing it also, and presumably better. She thought nothing of it, thinking that, perhaps, Andrew and Dawn were arguing once again, and she continued to the second story of the Summers' home. She heard voices to her right, so she assumed Buffy and Faith were in Joyce's room. Willow entered the room and glanced around until she saw Buffy sitting on the ground, her back to Willow, pawing through a heap of rubble.
"Buffy?" Willow said, passing Faith, and approaching Buffy.
"Yes, Will?" Buffy had responded without turning to face Willow.
"I just had a thought. If you'd like me to, I could do a spell to clean up the house and I could even do one that could help us locate everything that's still useable."
With her back still to Willow, Buffy replied, "No, Will, it's alright. I don't want you to hurt yourself again. Besides, this gives me something to do."
"But I mean, if you—"
"Willow," Buffy interrupted, finally turning around, "I don't think you should do a spell. And I don't want you to do a spell. Okay?"
"Okay, Buffy." Willow said, turning to leave the room. "Bye then." As Willow exited her old room, she took in all of what Buffy said and it made her frustrated. After all, Willow was an adult. She could make her own decisions. She didn't need someone else telling her what she could and could not do. "Humph." Willow expressed on her way down the stairs.
As Willow came in sight of the living room, she spoke to Xander, "Buffy said I should do the spell. C'mon, let's go to what's left of The Magic Box."
With that, Xander stood, grabbed his coat from the coat rack by the front door, and followed Willow out of the house.
"Me and Will will be back soon." Xander shouted to the quiet house. Willow got into the car, with Xander behind the wheel. Xander turned the key to the ignition and the car wouldn't start. "Oh, c'mon!" He said, pounding on the steering wheel.
*****
Chapter 2
Upstairs, Buffy and Faith were still rummaging. They'd found more things than Buffy originally thought that they would. Even though the damage to the house was immense, and everything inside was thrown about, a lot of what they would need to stay living at 1630 Revello Drive, was still useable. They'd found a lot of different things: Willow's computer, clothing, a radio that needed repairs, but that was still functional, pillows, blankets, and Buffy even found Mr. Gordo buried under, what used to be, her bed. She was happy she had found him. He was a reminder of simpler times. Her childhood. Before Slayerhood. Before her parents' divorce. Before she knew what went bump in the night. She'd cherish Mr. Gordo as long as she had him.
Faith kneeled on the ground and looked through a photo album that she had found among the debris. In it, she found pictures of Buffy and Dawn when they had still lived in Los Angeles. Both of them had been such happy children. And while their eyes and hair and smiles hadn't really changed throughout the years, you could see the affect the last eight years had had on their lives. Their smiles were now fractured and forced. Their eyes looked physically tired and drained of their happiness. Faith looked through the photo album trying to imagine what it would have been like if she had met these two girls under different circumstances. Would they have gotten along? Would they have hated each other? Probably the latter, but still, she couldn't help but wonder.
As Faith turned the pages in the book of memories frozen in time, she got to the last page and she found that the second to last picture had her in it. She didn't remember when it was taken, but in the photo she was standing with Buffy and Willow. She looked happy. They all did. Staring at the picture, Faith lost all sense of where she was and what she had been doing. She leaned up against a wall and just stared at the picture. Her eyes became misty, but she didn't allow herself to cry. What would Buffy have thought if she saw Faith crying over an old photo? Faith decided to discreetly remove the photo from its place in the book, and quickly pocket it. She wanted it so she could remember. So she could be reminded that there was a time when all of them were apparently happy - enjoying their lives.
"B, you want to bag this?" Faith asked, referring to the album.
"What's that?" Buffy said, standing up to walk over to the side of the room Faith was on.
"Old photo album. There're pictures of you and Dawn when you were kids. Stuff like that. Want to bag it, or leave it here?"
"Umm," Buffy thought aloud, "Put it in the bag. It might be fun to look at later."
"Right." Faith did so.
*****
"It just figures that the car won't start, doesn't it?" Xander said, still irritated. The two friends now leaned against the hood of the car. They both accepted the fact that they couldn't get the car to move anywhere anytime soon.
"Yeah, I guess." Was the extent of Willow's reply. After a brief moment of silence, Willow spoke up again. "Long day, huh?"
"Yeah, well that goes without saying, Will."
"Do you think we'll have to worry about demons and monsters and stuff like that anymore?"
"I don't know. There're like hundreds of Slayers around the world. I think Good has the upper hand against Evil now."
"Yeah, I suppose. Xander, if we don't have to fight Evil anymore, what are we going to do? Just sit around and pretend we've had normal lives? That we were normal teenagers growing up? That none of what happened, actually happened? How can we go back to living normally when we don't even know the definition of the word anymore? I mean, I know the definition of the word, but you know what I mean. We haven't been normal since freshman year of high school. We can't just pretend like none of this ever happened." Willow argued, excited.
"Will, I don't think that anytime soon we'll be able to pretend nothing happened. Look around. There's nothing here anymore. We'd be stupid to try to convince ourselves that Sunnydale has always looked like this."
"Then what do we do now? Where do we go from here?"
"I don't know, Will."
*****
Andrew just sat there and let Dawn cry on his shoulder. He knew what she was feeling because he often felt the same way. After he killed Jonathan, he felt so guilty about it that he wished it had been Jonathan who had killed him, rather than the reality of what actually did happen.
After a few minutes, Dawn's cries quieted as she attempted to compose herself. For so long she'd been wanting to share with someone how she felt, but never did she imagine it would have been Andrew that she would have ultimately expressed herself to. There was something comforting about being in his presence. Being around him she felt safe and secure. Dawn knew that Xander could keep her safe better than any other guy she'd ever known, save Spike, but she felt consolation being around Andrew. It eased her mind knowing that Andrew wasn't going to rush and tell Buffy everything she had told him. Buffy didn't like Andrew all too much, so she knew that Andrew wouldn't have gone running to Buffy right after their conversation was over.
"I'm sorry." Dawn confessed, pulling away from Andrew. "You don't need this from me." She stood up and headed to the door that would lead back into the house.
"No, Dawn, it's okay. I don't mind." Andrew assured. "I know what you're going through. (beat) You know when Jonathan died, I—"
"You mean when you killed him?" Dawn interrupted.
"Well, yeah. But that's not the point. Well, I guess that sort of has to do with the point, but that's not the point I'm trying to make." Andrew said, confused about what he was actually trying to say.
"What then?"
"When he died, I just kept wishing that it had been me who died, instead. He was my best friend and—and I killed him."
Dawn nodded.
Andrew stood as he spoke, "I just want to let you know that I know how you feel. It not being fair that you're here and they're not. I know how you feel." He repeated.
"It's not really the same though, is it? The people that I'm talking about, their deaths weren't because of me. You killed Jonathan. You should feel guilty because of that. That's no one's fault but your own."
Andrew was hurt by the comments Dawn had just made, "Maybe, but that just means you and me aren't too different, after all."
Confused about why he said that and what he meant by it, Dawn turned to go into the house. Just before she stepped inside, she turned back around to face Andrew, "Thanks. For listening to me, I mean." She walked into the house and shut the door behind her.
Andrew sat down and let out a deep, heavy sigh.
*****
"Want to go for a walk?" Xander asked.
"Sure. There's nothing else to do." Willow and Xander headed off down the street. No one in the gang had really inspected the town to see what was left; they had just walked home from where the high school used to be and on the way had seen that the Espresso Pump and The Magic Box were still standing.
"Let's go explorin'!" Xander exaggerated.
Willow smiled and just shook her head. She'd known Xander all her life, and never had she felt so far away from him. Usually tragedy brings people closer together, but they'd seen enough tragedy to surpass a lifetime, and it was nothing new to either one of them. It seemed, now, that whenever something tragic happened, they would drift apart even further. Willow hated that Xander had lost Anya, but what she hated even more was that she had nothing to say to him about it. It used to be that she would always have just the right thing to say to make him feel better, but what do you say in a situation like this? Willow knew what he was feeling because she had lost Tara in just about as awful a circumstance, but she still didn't know the right words. She didn't even want to bring the topic up, but she knew that that was the only thing on his mind at present.
For a good part of the walk, the friends strolled along in silence. They both were taking in their surroundings and trying to make familiar again with their town.
Randomly and in an instant, Xander nudged Willow's arm and shoved her slightly to the side. Willow forced a laugh under her breath and pushed him back.
"Oh no you don't!" Xander promised, and rushed at Willow. She screamed and took off running. He caught up with her, wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her to him, and the two of them laughed hysterically. When was the last time that happened? When was the last time they both were sincerely laughing? When they were happy? That didn't matter. What mattered in that instance was that they were smiling. In such heartrending times, they both smiled effortlessly. And while the smiles lasted only mere moments, its impact would be endless. It's what they both needed at that point in their lives. Just when they thought it not possible to curve their mouths into position, the smiles swept across their faces. Thank you Xander.
Calming down after their laugh-attack, Willow caught her breath. "Exactly where are we going?"
"You wanted to go to The Magic Box, didn't you?"
"Yeah. So we're heading that way then?"
"Well, where else is there to go?"
"Good point." Willow admitted. And they continued on their journey through the wasteland they used to call Sunnydale. "You know, Giles wouldn't approve of me doing this spell, would he?"
"Probably not."
"I wish he were here to tell me not to do it."
"You'd just go ahead and do it anyway."
"Yeah, I would, but I liked that he cared."
"Will, he's just in London. Want to call him to tell him you're doing the spell? That way he can scold you over the phone?" Xander teased.
"Oh can we?" Willow joked.
"Sure, I'll get right on that with the no phone that we have."
"Okay, and when you're doing that, I'll drive the car that doesn't work. Deal?"
"Deal." Xander agreed.
*****
"I'll be right back." Buffy told Faith, "I need to go get another bag." The bag that she had grabbed was now, to her surprise, full. Buffy headed towards the stairs to walk down them. When she was about halfway down the stairs, she heard what sounded like a muffled cry. She stopped mid-step and listened closely. It sounded as if it was coming from below her. It gave her an eerie feeling at first, but soon dismissed it as another one of Dawn and Andrew's fights. They had those a lot. She then continued down the stairs. As soon as she had grabbed another bag from the kitchen, she walked into the living room and dropped herself into a chair. She glanced out the shattered window into the sky that now had the rising sun shining brightly through the clouds of haze. It was early morning, and she had accomplished nothing. It had been her goal to have the house searched and cleaned by the time the sun rose, but now here the sun was, up and awake, and she wasn't even done searching half the house. She stood from the chair and moved over to the pane that once held the window. She then kneeled herself down on what was left of the couch. It was now basically just cushions in a pile of springs and wood, but she sat nonetheless. Before she knew it, her eyes were closed and she was dreaming before she could take the opportunity to object to the thought of sleep.
*****
Chapter 1
The new-become Slayers, previously known as the Potentials, had gone their separate ways. Some back to their homes, others out on their own. Knowing that they now had the strength and ability to fend for themselves, they went off to do just that. They didn't need to sit huddled in corners any longer waiting for Buffy or Faith to protect them. They, now, would be doing the protecting.
With the Summers' home now free of teenagers, save Dawn - Buffy, Xander, Willow, Faith, Andrew, and the afore mentioned teenager, could finally settle down and get a decent night of sleep. However, after the last Slayer was packed and out of the house, there was no one head on a pillow, nor any two eyes closed. As tired as the gang was, they couldn't bring themselves to sleep. Perhaps they were afraid of what dreams may be brought about after such chaotic and cataclysmic events. Perhaps the adrenaline was still pumping through their bodies and even if they had wanted to, they couldn't have slept. Or maybe they just wanted to stay awake and attempt to absorb everything that had happened in these previous couple of months in their lives. Whatever the reason, not one of the surviving fell asleep that night.
The house was a mess. When the large part of Sunnydale fell into oblivion, it sent a good sized quake through what was left of the hell-town. Revello Drive survived, as well as the Espresso Pump and The Magic Box. That was about it. Every other landmark had been sucked into the earth. Streets, now covered in dust and dirt, remained, as did a few trees. After such a phenomena, it was expected there'd be a horrific hole in the ground, only there wasn't. It was as if everything had been enveloped and consumed by the earth. As if its mouth opened, took a bite, and closed again. The land was there. You couldn't necessarily notice it was the same land, being the landmarks were gone, but the ground, the floor, was still there. This made it possible for the Scoobies to walk, or drive, to wherever they needed to go; despite the fact there wasn't really anywhere left worth going.
Buffy slumped down the stairs, still in a state of shock. She'd been that way since she became aware that her beloved town was destroyed. That town had seen the end of her, twice, but she loved it. It was where she met Giles and Willow and Xander. It was where she graduated from high school, and went to college. It was where she met the love her life. She had grown to accept and finally love this town, and now it was gone. Destroyed. Tears welled up in her sparkling green eyes when she saw the ruined remains of the place where she became someone she never would have even known existed eight years prior. It was hard. She was overcome with joyous emotions when she found that her home, the home she had lived in for the last seven years, was still standing. It wouldn't be the same house, of course, because it wouldn't be in the same town, but it was still her home, and she loved it. This house held many memories. A lot of which no one particularly wanted to remember, but memories are memories. No matter what those memories may contain.
As Buffy slowly descended the staircase, she looked around trying to figure out what in the house was still salvageable. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she peered into the living room, now dark, dusty, and in shambles, and she saw her friends standing about in consistent group embraces. Mid-embrace, Dawn caught a glimpse of Buffy, and called her name.
"Buffy, come on over." Dawn said with an innocence that Buffy knew was more of a show than reality.
"No, I'm good, but thanks. I have to see what's still good in the house. We might not be able to stay here." She replied as she headed towards the kitchen. She took a look around of what was left of the dining area. She noticed, on the floor, under a pile of rubble, Willow's laptop computer. She picked it up, dusted it off with her hand, and turned it over in her hands to see if there was any visible damage. It looked good. Buffy headed into the kitchen, searched though the misassembled drawers until she found a plastic bag. She placed Willow's computer into the bag and kept searching the house for other items that would be useful to them and that they'd be able to keep. Everything she found, she placed in the plastic bag. She didn't figure the bag would get too full. She wasn't expecting to find much that would be of use to them anymore.
*****
In the living room, the gang was now assembled sporadically across the floor. They sat talking quietly to one another, aware that theirs was the only sound in all of what was left of Sunndale.
"What are we going to do now?" Dawn asked.
"You mean, for the rest of our lives?" Xander replied.
"Yeah, I mean, I don't have to go to school, you don't have to go to work, we have the whole town to ourselves. I say we party." Dawn said, attempting sarcasm.
The whole group shot her an identical look of disbelief and frustration. "We'd usually appreciate your humor there, Dawnie, now's just not the best time for it." Willow said, comforting.
Dawn simply looked down, crossed her legs, and nodded her head.
"What's B up to?" Faith said, breaking the silence.
"She's checking the house to see if it's still livable. I guess she doesn't think it can handle us being here anymore." Xander responded.
"Well, we're doing no good just sitting around here, let's go help her." Faith said, standing.
No reply.
"C'mon you guys. What else are you going to do, but sit here and feel sorry for yourselves? Get up and make yourselves useful!"
No reply.
"Fine, suit yourselves. I'm gonna help B." She said, walking towards the kitchen.
Willow looked up at Faith as she turned and walked away. She then glanced over at Xander who looked like he was feeling the same way that Willow felt. Guilty for not helping out. Upset at Faith for having the stamina to be of help. And too tired to actually say anything about it.
Dawn stood up and motioned Andrew to follow her. He shook his head. She reached down, grabbed his arm and pulled him with her.
"I need to talk to you. Just come with me. Jeez!"
Andrew followed Dawn into the backyard of the house.
Willow watched them stand and leave. To Xander, she revealed her thoughts out loud, "You know, I could do a spell and this place would be clean in no time. I could even do a spell to help us locate the things in the house that we could still use." Willow said, her spirits raised just a bit.
"I don't know, Will. Magick and you haven't gotten along well together in the past."
"No, I did the spell to turn all the Potentials into Slayers, and that worked out just fine, thank you very much."
"Yeah, but the whole town was eaten in the midst of that."
"Oh c'mon, that wasn't my fault." Willow scoffed.
"I know, Will. I'm trying to make with the funny here."
Willow rolled her eyes, "Well, I'll at least ask Buffy if she thinks it's a good idea. It would save her a lot of labor hours." She stood and exited the same way she saw Faith exit.
Xander smiled as Willow left the room. He loved her. And he knew, now, that she had control over her powers, and that she wouldn't allow Evil Willow to take her over again, but there was just something about her doing spells that made him uneasy. He always thought it was because Anya didn't like it when Willow messed with the magicks, but if that were the case he wouldn't feel uneasy now. With that thought, memories of Anya came flooding back to him. He hadn't let himself grieve for her yet, because everything that had happened, had just happened, and he had to survive before he let himself realize that Anya hadn't survived. Andrew had told him that she went out as a hero, fighting and saving lives, and he was so proud of her for that, but he missed her terribly. It had only been just over five hours since Sunnydale fell into nothingness, yet to Xander, it seemed like an eternity he had already spent without Anya. When Joyce had passed away, not even three years prior, Anya had made comments about Joyce never being able to do anything ever again. Now Xander was filled with that same discomfort. Thoughts flowed through his mind of everything Anya would never be able to do again. Laugh. Cry. Speak. Dance. He'd give anything to have her in his arms again. He'd give his other eye if he could. But alas, that time has passed. Tears surfaced and steadily streamed down his face. He covered his face with his hands and silently wept.
*****
At last, Faith caught up with Buffy in Willow's old room, which had just recently been Buffy's room, which before any of the previous misadventures had happened, it had been Joyce's room.
"B, whatcha up to?"
"Just looking for stuff."
"I see that. What kind of stuff?"
"Anything. Stuff that we can still use."
Sensing Buffy didn't want to make with the small talk, Faith announced her offer to help.
"No. I'm good here. Thanks though." was Buffy's response.
"Nah, B, I want to help. Just point the way, and I'll obey." Faith said, making it obvious she didn't mean to make a rhyme out of it.
"Okay, sure, whatever. Start over there." She pointed to a pile of wood that used to be a writing desk, "Just take out the stuff you think will be useful to us, and put it in this bag." Buffy set the plastic bag down in the middle of the room.
Faith shrugged. "You're the boss."
*****
On the back porch to the house, Dawn and Andrew sat on the steps, facing one another.
"What do you need to talk to me about?" Andrew asked.
"This is going to sound weird and gross and kind of morbid, but just please listen, okay?"
Andrew nodded.
Dawn exhaled. "You were with Anya when she— You know."
Andrew nodded, this clearly a sensitive subject for him, and for good reason.
"What I want to know, or need to know, is if it was painful. I mean, did it look painful?" She continued.
Andrew just stared at Dawn, expressionless, un-answering.
"Well?" She pleaded, with determination in her eyes.
Andrew looked down at his fidgeting hands and shook his head. "It looked painful. It looked like it hurt—a lot." He managed, with tears in his eyes.
"Oh." Dawn replied, clearly upset about Andrew's answer.
Andrew sighed. "Why did you 'need' to know?"
Dawn let out a staggered exhale and leaned forward with her elbow on her knee, and her head in her hand. A tear rolled down her cheek and off of her hand. "So many people have died. None of them deserved it. Every time someone I know dies, it makes me hate myself even more. Why should I be allowed to stay alive when all of these people around me are dying? When Mom died, it was so hard, but I had Buffy there with me. When Buffy died, I had her final words to me to keep me going. I've had so many friends from school who have been there one day, and then just never show up again. Now Anya? And Spike? What am I supposed to do, Andrew? I can't keep living like this. In a world where everyone around me dies, and I'm left with nothing but scratches and bruises. I hate that I'm alive now and Anya's not. I hate that she had to die a horrible painful death, and I'm here, alive, with the rest of my life in front of me..." She tried to continue, but the tears overcame her. She buried her head in her hands and sobbed.
Andrew didn't know what to say. He was speechless for the first time that he could remember. He knew that there was nothing he could say to make her feel better, and he feared that anything he might say would only make things worse. He simply outstretched a hand to her, and she jumped to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and cried.
*****
Willow started ascending the staircase after she had searched the first story, to no avail, for Buffy and Faith. As she neared the top she heard what sounded like muffled cries coming from below her. She realized that since it was very quiet to her, then those downstairs should most likely be hearing it also, and presumably better. She thought nothing of it, thinking that, perhaps, Andrew and Dawn were arguing once again, and she continued to the second story of the Summers' home. She heard voices to her right, so she assumed Buffy and Faith were in Joyce's room. Willow entered the room and glanced around until she saw Buffy sitting on the ground, her back to Willow, pawing through a heap of rubble.
"Buffy?" Willow said, passing Faith, and approaching Buffy.
"Yes, Will?" Buffy had responded without turning to face Willow.
"I just had a thought. If you'd like me to, I could do a spell to clean up the house and I could even do one that could help us locate everything that's still useable."
With her back still to Willow, Buffy replied, "No, Will, it's alright. I don't want you to hurt yourself again. Besides, this gives me something to do."
"But I mean, if you—"
"Willow," Buffy interrupted, finally turning around, "I don't think you should do a spell. And I don't want you to do a spell. Okay?"
"Okay, Buffy." Willow said, turning to leave the room. "Bye then." As Willow exited her old room, she took in all of what Buffy said and it made her frustrated. After all, Willow was an adult. She could make her own decisions. She didn't need someone else telling her what she could and could not do. "Humph." Willow expressed on her way down the stairs.
As Willow came in sight of the living room, she spoke to Xander, "Buffy said I should do the spell. C'mon, let's go to what's left of The Magic Box."
With that, Xander stood, grabbed his coat from the coat rack by the front door, and followed Willow out of the house.
"Me and Will will be back soon." Xander shouted to the quiet house. Willow got into the car, with Xander behind the wheel. Xander turned the key to the ignition and the car wouldn't start. "Oh, c'mon!" He said, pounding on the steering wheel.
*****
Chapter 2
Upstairs, Buffy and Faith were still rummaging. They'd found more things than Buffy originally thought that they would. Even though the damage to the house was immense, and everything inside was thrown about, a lot of what they would need to stay living at 1630 Revello Drive, was still useable. They'd found a lot of different things: Willow's computer, clothing, a radio that needed repairs, but that was still functional, pillows, blankets, and Buffy even found Mr. Gordo buried under, what used to be, her bed. She was happy she had found him. He was a reminder of simpler times. Her childhood. Before Slayerhood. Before her parents' divorce. Before she knew what went bump in the night. She'd cherish Mr. Gordo as long as she had him.
Faith kneeled on the ground and looked through a photo album that she had found among the debris. In it, she found pictures of Buffy and Dawn when they had still lived in Los Angeles. Both of them had been such happy children. And while their eyes and hair and smiles hadn't really changed throughout the years, you could see the affect the last eight years had had on their lives. Their smiles were now fractured and forced. Their eyes looked physically tired and drained of their happiness. Faith looked through the photo album trying to imagine what it would have been like if she had met these two girls under different circumstances. Would they have gotten along? Would they have hated each other? Probably the latter, but still, she couldn't help but wonder.
As Faith turned the pages in the book of memories frozen in time, she got to the last page and she found that the second to last picture had her in it. She didn't remember when it was taken, but in the photo she was standing with Buffy and Willow. She looked happy. They all did. Staring at the picture, Faith lost all sense of where she was and what she had been doing. She leaned up against a wall and just stared at the picture. Her eyes became misty, but she didn't allow herself to cry. What would Buffy have thought if she saw Faith crying over an old photo? Faith decided to discreetly remove the photo from its place in the book, and quickly pocket it. She wanted it so she could remember. So she could be reminded that there was a time when all of them were apparently happy - enjoying their lives.
"B, you want to bag this?" Faith asked, referring to the album.
"What's that?" Buffy said, standing up to walk over to the side of the room Faith was on.
"Old photo album. There're pictures of you and Dawn when you were kids. Stuff like that. Want to bag it, or leave it here?"
"Umm," Buffy thought aloud, "Put it in the bag. It might be fun to look at later."
"Right." Faith did so.
*****
"It just figures that the car won't start, doesn't it?" Xander said, still irritated. The two friends now leaned against the hood of the car. They both accepted the fact that they couldn't get the car to move anywhere anytime soon.
"Yeah, I guess." Was the extent of Willow's reply. After a brief moment of silence, Willow spoke up again. "Long day, huh?"
"Yeah, well that goes without saying, Will."
"Do you think we'll have to worry about demons and monsters and stuff like that anymore?"
"I don't know. There're like hundreds of Slayers around the world. I think Good has the upper hand against Evil now."
"Yeah, I suppose. Xander, if we don't have to fight Evil anymore, what are we going to do? Just sit around and pretend we've had normal lives? That we were normal teenagers growing up? That none of what happened, actually happened? How can we go back to living normally when we don't even know the definition of the word anymore? I mean, I know the definition of the word, but you know what I mean. We haven't been normal since freshman year of high school. We can't just pretend like none of this ever happened." Willow argued, excited.
"Will, I don't think that anytime soon we'll be able to pretend nothing happened. Look around. There's nothing here anymore. We'd be stupid to try to convince ourselves that Sunnydale has always looked like this."
"Then what do we do now? Where do we go from here?"
"I don't know, Will."
*****
Andrew just sat there and let Dawn cry on his shoulder. He knew what she was feeling because he often felt the same way. After he killed Jonathan, he felt so guilty about it that he wished it had been Jonathan who had killed him, rather than the reality of what actually did happen.
After a few minutes, Dawn's cries quieted as she attempted to compose herself. For so long she'd been wanting to share with someone how she felt, but never did she imagine it would have been Andrew that she would have ultimately expressed herself to. There was something comforting about being in his presence. Being around him she felt safe and secure. Dawn knew that Xander could keep her safe better than any other guy she'd ever known, save Spike, but she felt consolation being around Andrew. It eased her mind knowing that Andrew wasn't going to rush and tell Buffy everything she had told him. Buffy didn't like Andrew all too much, so she knew that Andrew wouldn't have gone running to Buffy right after their conversation was over.
"I'm sorry." Dawn confessed, pulling away from Andrew. "You don't need this from me." She stood up and headed to the door that would lead back into the house.
"No, Dawn, it's okay. I don't mind." Andrew assured. "I know what you're going through. (beat) You know when Jonathan died, I—"
"You mean when you killed him?" Dawn interrupted.
"Well, yeah. But that's not the point. Well, I guess that sort of has to do with the point, but that's not the point I'm trying to make." Andrew said, confused about what he was actually trying to say.
"What then?"
"When he died, I just kept wishing that it had been me who died, instead. He was my best friend and—and I killed him."
Dawn nodded.
Andrew stood as he spoke, "I just want to let you know that I know how you feel. It not being fair that you're here and they're not. I know how you feel." He repeated.
"It's not really the same though, is it? The people that I'm talking about, their deaths weren't because of me. You killed Jonathan. You should feel guilty because of that. That's no one's fault but your own."
Andrew was hurt by the comments Dawn had just made, "Maybe, but that just means you and me aren't too different, after all."
Confused about why he said that and what he meant by it, Dawn turned to go into the house. Just before she stepped inside, she turned back around to face Andrew, "Thanks. For listening to me, I mean." She walked into the house and shut the door behind her.
Andrew sat down and let out a deep, heavy sigh.
*****
"Want to go for a walk?" Xander asked.
"Sure. There's nothing else to do." Willow and Xander headed off down the street. No one in the gang had really inspected the town to see what was left; they had just walked home from where the high school used to be and on the way had seen that the Espresso Pump and The Magic Box were still standing.
"Let's go explorin'!" Xander exaggerated.
Willow smiled and just shook her head. She'd known Xander all her life, and never had she felt so far away from him. Usually tragedy brings people closer together, but they'd seen enough tragedy to surpass a lifetime, and it was nothing new to either one of them. It seemed, now, that whenever something tragic happened, they would drift apart even further. Willow hated that Xander had lost Anya, but what she hated even more was that she had nothing to say to him about it. It used to be that she would always have just the right thing to say to make him feel better, but what do you say in a situation like this? Willow knew what he was feeling because she had lost Tara in just about as awful a circumstance, but she still didn't know the right words. She didn't even want to bring the topic up, but she knew that that was the only thing on his mind at present.
For a good part of the walk, the friends strolled along in silence. They both were taking in their surroundings and trying to make familiar again with their town.
Randomly and in an instant, Xander nudged Willow's arm and shoved her slightly to the side. Willow forced a laugh under her breath and pushed him back.
"Oh no you don't!" Xander promised, and rushed at Willow. She screamed and took off running. He caught up with her, wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her to him, and the two of them laughed hysterically. When was the last time that happened? When was the last time they both were sincerely laughing? When they were happy? That didn't matter. What mattered in that instance was that they were smiling. In such heartrending times, they both smiled effortlessly. And while the smiles lasted only mere moments, its impact would be endless. It's what they both needed at that point in their lives. Just when they thought it not possible to curve their mouths into position, the smiles swept across their faces. Thank you Xander.
Calming down after their laugh-attack, Willow caught her breath. "Exactly where are we going?"
"You wanted to go to The Magic Box, didn't you?"
"Yeah. So we're heading that way then?"
"Well, where else is there to go?"
"Good point." Willow admitted. And they continued on their journey through the wasteland they used to call Sunnydale. "You know, Giles wouldn't approve of me doing this spell, would he?"
"Probably not."
"I wish he were here to tell me not to do it."
"You'd just go ahead and do it anyway."
"Yeah, I would, but I liked that he cared."
"Will, he's just in London. Want to call him to tell him you're doing the spell? That way he can scold you over the phone?" Xander teased.
"Oh can we?" Willow joked.
"Sure, I'll get right on that with the no phone that we have."
"Okay, and when you're doing that, I'll drive the car that doesn't work. Deal?"
"Deal." Xander agreed.
*****
"I'll be right back." Buffy told Faith, "I need to go get another bag." The bag that she had grabbed was now, to her surprise, full. Buffy headed towards the stairs to walk down them. When she was about halfway down the stairs, she heard what sounded like a muffled cry. She stopped mid-step and listened closely. It sounded as if it was coming from below her. It gave her an eerie feeling at first, but soon dismissed it as another one of Dawn and Andrew's fights. They had those a lot. She then continued down the stairs. As soon as she had grabbed another bag from the kitchen, she walked into the living room and dropped herself into a chair. She glanced out the shattered window into the sky that now had the rising sun shining brightly through the clouds of haze. It was early morning, and she had accomplished nothing. It had been her goal to have the house searched and cleaned by the time the sun rose, but now here the sun was, up and awake, and she wasn't even done searching half the house. She stood from the chair and moved over to the pane that once held the window. She then kneeled herself down on what was left of the couch. It was now basically just cushions in a pile of springs and wood, but she sat nonetheless. Before she knew it, her eyes were closed and she was dreaming before she could take the opportunity to object to the thought of sleep.
*****