Description: Two months have passed since the events in "Grave", and Willow
is trapped in a prison of her own making. How far will Giles go to save
her, and who can help him? How far will Willow go to save herself?
Disclaimer: All characters copyright of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox. Original story copyright 2002.
Rating: PG-13, and on the harder end of this rating. Contains violence, some implied gore, and significant "adult themes."
Special notes: Spoilers through end of S6. The story frequently draws inspiration from the BTVS episodes "The Wish", "Gingerbread" and "Restless." Additional sources of inspiration will be credited at the end; most of them will be obvious.
Comments and criticism welcome.
1. Shards
Buffy Summers:
I go to their room, sometimes. When Dawn can't see me.
Funny how I think of it as their room. For most of my time in Sunnydale, it was my mother's room. Not any more. I can still see them in this room, laughing, giggling, and dancing.
I was so happy for them. And I was so jealous of them, too. Especially Tara. I saw what Tara must have seen. I saw the way my best friend's red hair gleamed and how her emerald eyes sparkled in the light - Tara's light.
And then that light was gone. Tara was killed in an instant of madness. I still have no idea how it happened. After all, that monster Warren was between the house and me. I don't know what made him jerk his arm and shoot into the bedroom window. But he did. And I couldn't save her. Tara's gone, forever. One of the sweetest, most compassionate people I've ever met. Willow's light - no, our light.
My best friend is gone, too. In her place was a monster with black hair and pools of darkness for eyes, who said the worst things I could imagine, and who came closer to destroying us than anyone else ever did. A monster I didn't know how to fight. In the end, Xander saved us from the monster. Giles and I just made a bigger mess of things.
So the monster was gone. What's in the monster's place is even worse. In our regular phone conversations, Giles says they're still working on it, that they have the best magic users in England involved, and that things are promising. The tone in his voice tells me otherwise.
I keep trying to see Willow's madness solely as coming from Tara's shocking, appalling death. But I know better. Giles has let slip as much. She had vast reserves of dark magic inside her, plus unimaginable amounts of anger, hatred, and self-loathing. It can't be - my best friend couldn't have secretly been so scarred, so injured. But she was.
So I go their room. I see them happy. I see her happy, her green eyes shining with love and light. And I cry.
Rupert Giles:
I have just finished phoning Buffy. I have done my duty and lied to her for another few days. Yes, Buffy, we've got the best people working on her. Yes, things are still promising. I know she can hear me try to fool her, making a bloody awful botch of it, too.
Just like the Ripper made a bloody awful botch of it the last time. When Willow absorbed the essence of magic I was carrying, I was secretly very pleased with myself. Scared yes, beaten yes, but also very proud. Daddy is going to save you now, little girl, I thought. Daddy was wrong.
Wrong as all hell. The magical essence was supposed to reach the human part of her instantly. It was supposed to give us our back our redheaded witch, admittedly a little worse for wear. The coven promised me it would. And who am I to doubt them? But it didn't. Instead, our actions - no, my actions - turned a terrible danger into an apocalyptic one. In the end, only Xander saved us. I had been so angry and so disappointed with Mr. Harris so often. Not that day - on that day, he alone deserved the title of Hero. To say he had finally lived up to his potential would be a grave understatement. Yet in the end, even he failed.
I cannot imagine what she is going through now, or what she must have gone through before. I had thought she had just been full of herself before, little more than a rank, arrogant amateur who didn't know enough to be horrified at the prospect of raising the dead. The Council is full of people whose abilities outstrip their judgment. I should know - the Ripper used to be one.
Dear God, I wish I had been right. After Willow took the essence, I got the "reward" of a fraction, a little shard, of what she was feeling. There was rage and grief from Tara's death. There was the pain of feeling the world's suffering - bloody hell, that wasn't supposed to happen! But so much more of it was from Willow, herself.
I am supposed to understand. I do not.
So here I am, back in England. Back with the coven, and the coven's attempts to save our Willow. And back with the Council. The Council has taken quite an interest in our efforts, to say the least. So much so that my former employers send at least three wetworks boys to every ritual. The Council claims that they are merely taking precautionary measures, in case Willow becomes an apocalyptic threat again. From my experiences, and from the whispers I have heard, I wonder how much longer those measures will remain precautionary.
None of this should be. I am the famous Rupert Giles, one of the most experienced and successful members of the Council. I have helped save the world from its premature end more times than all of the Council's preening agents put together. I should know what to do.
I would do anything I could to save her. I love my redheaded witch just as I love my golden-headed slayer. Years ago, I swore an oath that that I would never have children, to keep them from my world. Oaths aside, I have them just the same. Which makes it all the harder that I don't know how to save her. It makes the fact that I had no idea how much pain she was in before this even worse.
Now I am in the coven's inner chamber, with Willow lying lifelessly on their table. We will to try to magically cleanse her, yet again. The other members of the coven, especially the Leader, tell me I should keep my hopes up for this session. That it often takes many cleansings to make progress, especially for someone who was so poisoned by darkness. We will fail.
I pray that I am going to be wrong yet again.
Sheila Rosenberg:
I saw a picture today on my mantle. It took a few minutes to remember who she was, but then, silly me, I saw it was a picture of Willow! My little girl, Willow. Of course, she's not so little any more. She cut her hair recently - I think she looks more grown up now. I'm not happy with some of her friends, though. Especially that Muffy girl. I don't know about her choice of boyfriends, either. I think she's dating a musician? Can't be. No, that's right. A musician, named Ollie or Omar or something like that. Can't remember if I met, him, though. Oh, well. She's in the middle of her teenage rebellion, but I'm sure my little girl will snap out of it soon, just like I did. I think - hmm, where is she now? Oh, right, she's in university - at UC Sunnydale. I wonder when I last saw her? Oh, hmm. it's so hard to recall.
I saw a picture today on my mantle. Silly me, I have such a hard time remembering who it was a picture of.
Willow Rosenberg:
Beginning report of cleansing session.
Rupert Giles probed subject's current mental condition. Initiate Laura created a text transcription of what Mr. Giles experienced. This transcription is highly approximate, given the subject's severely troubled and chaotic mental condition.
Transcription follows:
eeeeeeeeeeeR*Nkeeeeeeee$@#$Aeeeeeeeeee&&YTLIUGMAIYTLIUGISEHSeeeeeeeee@#$#QDe eeeeeeee@#$@Feeeeeeeeee@#$!DAeeeeeeeeeee&&EWERASREREDRUMeeeeeeeee!#@$!@#QFee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee&&GNINOSIOPSSENKRADeeeeeeee#$!#@A1eeeeeeee&&YRROSOSMAIeeee eee
End transcription.
Analysis: 1) Subject Willow Rosenberg's mental blocks remain almost impenetrable to standard probes. 2) The minimal information Mr. Giles has been able to obtain shows a very high degree of mental disturbance. 3) While it may be possible to break through the mental blocks using direct mental projection, the risks would be much too high for the primary adept, and it is far from clear that any benefit could result.
Treatment: 1) Continue schedule of attempted cleansing rituals every second day for the next four weeks. 2) Reconsider all options for disposition of subject should subject worsen or fail to improve at the end of four weeks.
Dissent: Mr. Giles recommends the use of direct projection, with himself as primary adept. His dissent from this treatment plan is duly noted.
Ending transcript of cleansing session.
* * *
To be continued in chapter 2.
Disclaimer: All characters copyright of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox. Original story copyright 2002.
Rating: PG-13, and on the harder end of this rating. Contains violence, some implied gore, and significant "adult themes."
Special notes: Spoilers through end of S6. The story frequently draws inspiration from the BTVS episodes "The Wish", "Gingerbread" and "Restless." Additional sources of inspiration will be credited at the end; most of them will be obvious.
Comments and criticism welcome.
1. Shards
Buffy Summers:
I go to their room, sometimes. When Dawn can't see me.
Funny how I think of it as their room. For most of my time in Sunnydale, it was my mother's room. Not any more. I can still see them in this room, laughing, giggling, and dancing.
I was so happy for them. And I was so jealous of them, too. Especially Tara. I saw what Tara must have seen. I saw the way my best friend's red hair gleamed and how her emerald eyes sparkled in the light - Tara's light.
And then that light was gone. Tara was killed in an instant of madness. I still have no idea how it happened. After all, that monster Warren was between the house and me. I don't know what made him jerk his arm and shoot into the bedroom window. But he did. And I couldn't save her. Tara's gone, forever. One of the sweetest, most compassionate people I've ever met. Willow's light - no, our light.
My best friend is gone, too. In her place was a monster with black hair and pools of darkness for eyes, who said the worst things I could imagine, and who came closer to destroying us than anyone else ever did. A monster I didn't know how to fight. In the end, Xander saved us from the monster. Giles and I just made a bigger mess of things.
So the monster was gone. What's in the monster's place is even worse. In our regular phone conversations, Giles says they're still working on it, that they have the best magic users in England involved, and that things are promising. The tone in his voice tells me otherwise.
I keep trying to see Willow's madness solely as coming from Tara's shocking, appalling death. But I know better. Giles has let slip as much. She had vast reserves of dark magic inside her, plus unimaginable amounts of anger, hatred, and self-loathing. It can't be - my best friend couldn't have secretly been so scarred, so injured. But she was.
So I go their room. I see them happy. I see her happy, her green eyes shining with love and light. And I cry.
Rupert Giles:
I have just finished phoning Buffy. I have done my duty and lied to her for another few days. Yes, Buffy, we've got the best people working on her. Yes, things are still promising. I know she can hear me try to fool her, making a bloody awful botch of it, too.
Just like the Ripper made a bloody awful botch of it the last time. When Willow absorbed the essence of magic I was carrying, I was secretly very pleased with myself. Scared yes, beaten yes, but also very proud. Daddy is going to save you now, little girl, I thought. Daddy was wrong.
Wrong as all hell. The magical essence was supposed to reach the human part of her instantly. It was supposed to give us our back our redheaded witch, admittedly a little worse for wear. The coven promised me it would. And who am I to doubt them? But it didn't. Instead, our actions - no, my actions - turned a terrible danger into an apocalyptic one. In the end, only Xander saved us. I had been so angry and so disappointed with Mr. Harris so often. Not that day - on that day, he alone deserved the title of Hero. To say he had finally lived up to his potential would be a grave understatement. Yet in the end, even he failed.
I cannot imagine what she is going through now, or what she must have gone through before. I had thought she had just been full of herself before, little more than a rank, arrogant amateur who didn't know enough to be horrified at the prospect of raising the dead. The Council is full of people whose abilities outstrip their judgment. I should know - the Ripper used to be one.
Dear God, I wish I had been right. After Willow took the essence, I got the "reward" of a fraction, a little shard, of what she was feeling. There was rage and grief from Tara's death. There was the pain of feeling the world's suffering - bloody hell, that wasn't supposed to happen! But so much more of it was from Willow, herself.
I am supposed to understand. I do not.
So here I am, back in England. Back with the coven, and the coven's attempts to save our Willow. And back with the Council. The Council has taken quite an interest in our efforts, to say the least. So much so that my former employers send at least three wetworks boys to every ritual. The Council claims that they are merely taking precautionary measures, in case Willow becomes an apocalyptic threat again. From my experiences, and from the whispers I have heard, I wonder how much longer those measures will remain precautionary.
None of this should be. I am the famous Rupert Giles, one of the most experienced and successful members of the Council. I have helped save the world from its premature end more times than all of the Council's preening agents put together. I should know what to do.
I would do anything I could to save her. I love my redheaded witch just as I love my golden-headed slayer. Years ago, I swore an oath that that I would never have children, to keep them from my world. Oaths aside, I have them just the same. Which makes it all the harder that I don't know how to save her. It makes the fact that I had no idea how much pain she was in before this even worse.
Now I am in the coven's inner chamber, with Willow lying lifelessly on their table. We will to try to magically cleanse her, yet again. The other members of the coven, especially the Leader, tell me I should keep my hopes up for this session. That it often takes many cleansings to make progress, especially for someone who was so poisoned by darkness. We will fail.
I pray that I am going to be wrong yet again.
Sheila Rosenberg:
I saw a picture today on my mantle. It took a few minutes to remember who she was, but then, silly me, I saw it was a picture of Willow! My little girl, Willow. Of course, she's not so little any more. She cut her hair recently - I think she looks more grown up now. I'm not happy with some of her friends, though. Especially that Muffy girl. I don't know about her choice of boyfriends, either. I think she's dating a musician? Can't be. No, that's right. A musician, named Ollie or Omar or something like that. Can't remember if I met, him, though. Oh, well. She's in the middle of her teenage rebellion, but I'm sure my little girl will snap out of it soon, just like I did. I think - hmm, where is she now? Oh, right, she's in university - at UC Sunnydale. I wonder when I last saw her? Oh, hmm. it's so hard to recall.
I saw a picture today on my mantle. Silly me, I have such a hard time remembering who it was a picture of.
Willow Rosenberg:
Beginning report of cleansing session.
Rupert Giles probed subject's current mental condition. Initiate Laura created a text transcription of what Mr. Giles experienced. This transcription is highly approximate, given the subject's severely troubled and chaotic mental condition.
Transcription follows:
eeeeeeeeeeeR*Nkeeeeeeee$@#$Aeeeeeeeeee&&YTLIUGMAIYTLIUGISEHSeeeeeeeee@#$#QDe eeeeeeee@#$@Feeeeeeeeee@#$!DAeeeeeeeeeee&&EWERASREREDRUMeeeeeeeee!#@$!@#QFee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee&&GNINOSIOPSSENKRADeeeeeeee#$!#@A1eeeeeeee&&YRROSOSMAIeeee eee
End transcription.
Analysis: 1) Subject Willow Rosenberg's mental blocks remain almost impenetrable to standard probes. 2) The minimal information Mr. Giles has been able to obtain shows a very high degree of mental disturbance. 3) While it may be possible to break through the mental blocks using direct mental projection, the risks would be much too high for the primary adept, and it is far from clear that any benefit could result.
Treatment: 1) Continue schedule of attempted cleansing rituals every second day for the next four weeks. 2) Reconsider all options for disposition of subject should subject worsen or fail to improve at the end of four weeks.
Dissent: Mr. Giles recommends the use of direct projection, with himself as primary adept. His dissent from this treatment plan is duly noted.
Ending transcript of cleansing session.
* * *
To be continued in chapter 2.