1
After the battle, the survivors took refuge in a motel thirty miles outside of what used to be Sunnydale. Whoever ran the place had clearly fled; it was empty, which was perfect. They raided the vending machines for food and then, without exception, slept for about fifteen hours each.
It was now day two, and Xander was temporarily alone in the room he shared with Andrew. It was not his ideal setup. There were plenty of rooms, but Buffy had decided that no one should be on their own, and Xander couldn't blame her. He didn't really want to be alone anyway. He just didn't want to be with Andrew.
The hush that had fallen over the company was uncomfortable, and Xander found himself wishing Anya was there. She had always known what to say. Well, she'd always had something to say, at least, which was better than the silence. Silence meant more time to think, and Xander really didn't want to be alone with his thoughts right now.
Anya's death had hit him hard, much harder than he'd let on to anyone else. He'd felt the tears coming for the past two days but had held them off so far in a bid to save face in front of the girls.
But inevitably, his suppressed emotions found another outlet, and in grief's place, Xander felt anger begin to creep in...
:
"Got any fours?"
Buffy automatically glanced down at the cards in her hand, even though she knew she didn't, in fact, have any fours. She, Dawn, Faith, Willow, and Kennedy were holed up in one room in the motel. Faith had managed to find a pack of cards somewhere, and they were playing Go Fish while tactfully avoiding the elephant in the room: What next?
Buffy didn't want to think about that. Her mind was preoccupied with Spike. He had been right: she didn't love him, not really, but she thought she might have been starting to. Was this her curse, to keep falling in love with the very creatures she was destined to destroy? First Angel, then Spike. And now they were both lost to her.
The door suddenly shot open with a crack, and Dawn almost fell off the bed. Andrew stood in the doorway, his eyes wide.
"Something's in our room attacking Xander!" he panted. "There's banging and shouting!"
Buffy and Faith each grabbed the nearest weapon and sprinted into the hall, the others on their heels. They were joined by several curious Slayerettes.
"Fucking—demon—show you—" Xander's low growl carried through the door, followed by a crash.
Buffy kicked the door open.
And stopped dead.
The room was a mess. Mattresses hanging off the beds, broken lamps on the floor, drawers spilled out all over the carpet. Glass glittered from a pile of ripped pages that looked to be from the mangled Bible trapped underneath an overturned chair.
Xander's fist was buried in the wall by the closet. He pulled it out, bloodied, and turned to the intruders.
Buffy shuddered involuntarily. Xander's eye was hard and blazing. His lip curled up in a sneer. She hadn't seen that predatory look on his face since the hyena, all those years ago.
"What—" Kennedy began, cut off by a snarl as Xander stalked forward.
Buffy was frozen, but someone pushed past her and pulled the door shut.
Giles gave them all a solemn look, wiping his glasses on the hem of his shirt.
"I wouldn't go in there just yet."
Dawn's fist tightened around the stake she'd grabbed from Buffy's bag.
"Giles, we've gotta help him! What if he's been possessed?"
"He isn't possessed," Giles explained patiently. "Xander has been holding himself together for the rest of us, but grief is a very powerful emotion. It does not always manifest in obvious ways." He looked pointedly at Willow.
Buffy sighed. "Well, as long as he's only destroying a room and not the world…"
Faith began to herd the younger girls away. "Go on, bedtime for the little sisters. Big day of nothing tomorrow." She stopped when Robin stepped out of their room a few doors down.
"What's going on?" he asked sleepily.
"You're supposed to be in bed." Faith put her hands on her hips. "Can't go for round two 'til you heal up some."
"Thank you for that information, Faith…"
"No prob, G-man. C'mon, you, back inside. Night, everyone." Faith and Robin disappeared inside their room.
Dawn reached out and pressed her palm against Xander's door. "What if he hurts himself?"
"I've no doubt Xander will be alright, given time," Giles said confidently. "Andrew, you will stay with me tonight."
A thunk hit the other side of the wall, followed by a thump and a low wail. Choked sobbing met their ears.
Willow squeezed Kennedy's hand and stepped forward, easing the door ajar and slipping inside, fastening it behind her.
"Bed," Buffy announced.
:
Early the next morning, Buffy found herself pacing the halls restlessly. She couldn't sleep. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for some demonic emergency to arise. She wasn't used to having nothing to fight.
"Slayer."
Buffy jumped a foot in the air and spun, crouching reflexively. When she recognized Whistler, she straightened. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to talk to you."
"How did you get in?"
The demon chuckled. "Give me a little credit. Balance demon, remember? I come and go as I please. Well—as they please."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "The Higher Powers."
"Yes."
"So tell me, how have those powers been lately?" Buffy's voice was thick with sarcasm. "They enjoy watching lives being ripped apart?"
Whistler sighed. "Slayer—"
"The last time I saw you was five years ago. You told me I'd have to kill my boyfriend. I didn't even get a 'good job' for that one."
"It doesn't work like that."
"Yeah, figured that out on my own. Look, I just destroyed a Hellmouth, so if you're here to tell me there's something I need to rush off and slay…"
"Actually, I'm here to grant you a wish."
Buffy's eyebrows flew up and she crossed her arms. "So now you're a genie, too?"
He smirked. "Hardly…but I know a few if you're interested."
"No thanks. I've seen how dangerous messing around with wishes can be."
"Wishes are tricky things," Whistler agreed. "But this time you don't need to worry. Think of this as a gift, no strings attached."
"Can I return this gift if I don't like it?"
"Very funny. Deal's this: we will return one lost soul to you." When Buffy looked at him blankly, he sighed. "We'll bring one of your friends back to life, Slayer."
Buffy forced herself to swallow the hope that suddenly erupted inside her. "Been there, done that. Not so much fun for the resurrected."
Whistler shook his head. "It won't be like that this time. Whoever you choose won't remember being dead. You can bring back anyone you want. Doesn't matter how long they've been gone or how they died." He leaned forward, as if to emphasize his next words. "This is a very big deal. It's not a decision the Higher Powers came to easily. And it's a limited time offer. It's now or never."
Buffy could see he was completely serious, and the realization struck her like a physical blow.
I could bring Mom back. I could hold her and talk to her and it would be like she never died. I could bring her back.
But back to what? To a world two years in the future, where the house, the gallery, the great little market on the corner, were nothing but a hole in the ground?
Buffy missed her mother…but she had also learned to live without her.
I could bring back Tara. Or Spike. I could bring back Spike…
She was so caught up in the possibilities that she didn't notice Willow and Xander approaching until they were right beside her, eyeing Whistler curiously.
"Who are you?" Xander asked boldly. Buffy was relieved to see that her friend looked back to normal after the night before.
"Name's Whistler." The half-demon extended a hand, withdrawing it when no one made a move to reciprocate. "Tough crowd."
"Whistler is a balance demon," Buffy explained. "Trust me, he's on the up-and-up."
"What does he want?" Willow asked cautiously.
"He wants to give me something. A gift."
"And here I thought you were a January birthday." Xander crossed his arms and lifted an eyebrow at the stranger. "No offense, but trust is kinda on the low end right now. In my experience nothing is for free."
Whistler smiled. "Growing up on a Hellmouth taught you to be wary."
"Growing up on a Hellmouth taught us to watch out for people we don't know," Willow countered. "Especially when those people come bearing gifts for no reason."
"But I wouldn't say there's 'no reason' for this. After all, you faced great evil and won."
"You're saying we tipped the scale for the good side, and now you've gotta unleash some monster to restore balance?" Xander took half a step backward.
"You've all lost a lot over the years. Many of your friends didn't make it to see this day. The Higher Powers recognize this Slayer has been through hell and back, and they've decided, in appreciation for her sacrifices and to encourage her to take her place training the next generation, that something should be returned to her. Someone."
Understanding dawned in unison on Willow and Xander's faces.
"They—they can do that? Bring someone back to life?" Xander glanced sideways at Buffy.
Whistler seemed amused. "As I recall, both of you have done it before."
Willow frowned. "Well, yeah, but—that was different. Those were…special circumstances."
"So are these." Whistler straightened. "We guarantee you one restored soul. No catches. A person returned to you exactly as they were when they died."
"…but who?"
"I believe the Slayer has already made her choice."
Buffy nodded and turned to Willow. "Wills, you know that if it were even three days ago…"
Willow smiled. "I know, Buffy. It's okay. I'm okay. Spike saved all of us, he deserves another chance."
Xander looked like he'd swallowed something sour, but he flashed Buffy a tight smile and a nod.
Buffy took a breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were glistening with unshed tears. She nodded at Whistler.
"Thanks, guys. But I'm not bringing Spike back."
Willow frowned. "Then who—"
Whistler had vanished, and in his place hovered a small, golden orb, which began to grow bigger and brighter until they had to shield their eyes and look away.
The light disappeared as suddenly as it had come. Blinking spots from their eyes, the trio looked to see—