Buffy pushed her honey-colored hair back from her face as she dropped the last of the dirty bowls in to the sink. I guess the vacation is over, she thought. When she went into the kitchen this morning after Dawn left for school, there were dirty dishes piled beside the sink for the first time in two weeks.
Buffy suppressed a shudder and resolutely plunged her hands in the water. Two weeks ago. Fourteen days since she had tried to kill her friends and her sister. They were all still walking on eggshells around her. Flashes of herself in the mental institution still plagued her at night. During the day, she could convince herself that this was her real life, the other just a demon-drug induced hallucination.
But at night, lying alone in her dark room, she wondered if this were really the nightmare. It was all made worse when Buffy remembered that one split second in which she had wished that the other life were the real one. How much simpler it would be.
Buffy sighed as she laid the last of bowls in the dish rack. She knew that wasn't true. Despite all the pain of the last year, she had so much here. A family that had pulled her back to this world in the end. Dawn, the sister she had never had. Willow, her best friend. Xander, always there for her. Even Spike.
Buffy suppressed a wave of longing. She hadn't seen Spike since he gave her that ultimatum in her bedroom. The one that had pushed her over the edge and sent her running for the simplicity of the mental institution. Tell your friends about us, or I will. For the millionth time, Buffy ran through her head all the reasons she couldn't tell her friends about her relationship, or whatever it was, with Spike. They would never understand, they would hate her, or perhaps even worse, they would pity her.
"I would have done those," Willow said from the doorway, causing Buffy to jump. The slender red-head took the washcloth from Buffy's hand and pushed her toward the living room. "Why don't you go lay down?"
"That's all I've been doing for the last two weeks, Will," Buffy responded, still not quite able to meet her friend's eyes. This must be how Willow felt when she almost killed Dawn, Buffy thought. "I feel fine."
Willow regarded her with a long, searching look. "You don't look fine. You're like a ghost around here. You haven't eaten anything in days."
Buffy knew that Willow was right. She had thought that nothing could be worse than the pain of being pulled back to this world from heaven. But she felt even worse now than she had for the last several months. She could barely drag herself out of bed in the morning. "I'm fine, Will. I just, I can't stop thinking about what I almost did to you, and," Buffy's voice started to crack.
"Buffy, it's okay," Willow said, putting her arms around the Slayer. "It wasn't you. We all know that. You were sick. I know you would never hurt me."
The forgiveness was almost more than Buffy could stand. She started to pull away, but Willow pulled her toward the kitchen table. "Buffy, I know this year has been really hard on you. We've all been worried about you." Willow stopped and slipped something out of her jeans pocket. She laid the small white rectangle on the table in front of Buffy. "Tara did some asking around. She's supposed to be really good."
Buffy picked up the card. Dr. Amanda Newton, Ph.D. She looked up at Willow, then back at the card. Psychotherapist. "Will, I can't tell anyone about the things I've been through. Who would believe me? I'd end up in that mental hospital for real." She sighed and placed the card back on the table.
"That's the great thing, Buffy," Willow said before she could get up. "She's not just a regular doctor. Tara checked her out. She's also a Witch. She knows all about demons and magick and,"
Buffy interrupted, "I get it, Will. She's in the know. But what if,"
Now it was Willow's turn to interrupt, "Just call her. What can it hurt? If it doesn't help, you don't go back."
Buffy considered her friend for a moment, then started to refuse.
"I just can't stand seeing you like this," Willow said softly.
Buffy stopped. What could it hurt? It certainly couldn't make things worse. She reached for Willow's hand, "Okay, Will. I'll call her, see what she says. I'm not making any promises."
"I know, Buffy. I just want to help."
"We'll see what she can do."