A/N: I wanted to re-write the scene where Willow kills Warren. I had this idea that Dawn would be deceptive and Clem gullible enough for her to be there at the end. This is an AU story, though, so you won't be too angry with me...hopefully.
There was a hushed mutter among them. It was so strong, so tense, so obvious to them that it seemed even inanimate objects- trees, rocks, gravestones- were in the same agreement, the same thoughts muttering tensely though their heads. But no one said it, as though saying it might tempt mother nature to intensify the perceived punishment. It isn't fair, rung through their nerves like the vibration against a church bell that causes it to chime, yet they were silent. The whole way down to Spike's lair, no one said what they were thinking.
It may have been nice to have Anya around at that time, to say some thing like; 'It really isn't fair that every body dies on us. Joyce died, then Buffy...even though she came back...and now Tara.' No one ever thought that they'd want to have Anya reciting their every thought without any form of blockade from brain to mouth. The demons left them alone. No one could quite tell why, it was almost like they could sense that they should really back off. With Dawn and Buffy being so emotionally unwound at the moment, and Buffy's almost instinctive nature to protect her little sister, they would have been nothing but scraps of paper within seconds. Whatever it was, they were out of the way.
Dawn didn't mind Clem. Okay, so she didn't know him, but he seemed to act human, and Buffy didn't mind leaving her with him. Given the current situation, he was probably the person she would come closest to trusting- like her sister kept emphasizing. She should be with some one she trusted, sure. But, at the moment, they were all either dead, evil, or busy. Always busy, though it seemed legit this time. She wanted to go.
If any of them was aware of the injustice, it was Willow. If she couldn't bring Tara bag, if she couldn't have that, then she would have the next best thing. Bloody shirt in tow, she walked- calmly- through the woods. She hadn't changed so much. If any thing, it seemed as though she had become...truer. She didn't even have to say what she wanted, only do it. "You can run, but you can't hide," she called, her voice not angry or even frantic. It was cool, calm, almost an eery sort of maternal...like a disappointed mother, a very warped, disappointed mother. "You'll only get tired," she added, continuing to walk around. To any one else, it would have looked aimless, but she knew where she was going, what she was doing. "And then you won't be as much fun to play with." she vaporized, coming up behind him where he turned around, and grabbed his throat. He struggled, making a few weak arguments she wasn't paying attention to. She maintained her grasp, not even having to shift in her position to do so.
"Entrante," she barked out to the forest, and they submitted, reaching to grab the criminal by the wrists and ankles. He was terribly frightened. In their position, she towered above him, looking down. She would be sorry, he said, evoking a twisted smirk on her face. "Oh, I am sorry," she said, running a long nail up his throat, letting three of her other nails press friction against the side of his face, causing a few cuts that bled pretty badly. It was nothing serious, though; face cuts bled worse than any other cut, even when nothing was serious. "I'm sorry I didn't do this before."
"You can't do this," he was bargaining now, his voice wavering. Her smile this time was one of joy that would look innocent if not for the situation. How cute, she thought, wondering what reason he may possibly give her.
"Why?" she purred, giggling softly; "You got a wife and three beautiful kids?"
"Because," he was fumbling now, as though he hadn't expected to get this far with it. "because if you kill me, you're no better."
"I never said I wanted to be," she responded, staring blankly. "What's the matter, Warren? Little genius can't come up with an answer?" she smiled more sinisterly now, as though some thing inside her had dropped. "I'm disappointed, I thought you might make this fun."
"The guilt of killing a human being is too much for you to bare," she could tell he was so terrified at this point he might cry. That was nothing compared to what was going to happen. She would be sure to make him cry. But, for now, she was going to play with him, just a little more. Buffy was still miles off yet, she could tell. She had time.
"Oh, now? You know this?" she said, her smile falling back down into apathy, she looked angry. And focussed. "You must be experienced. Tara wasn't the first one you killed, then."
"N-n-n-n-no! No, of course I didn't, I've never---"
"You're lying," she giggled humorlessly, now in complete focus, her face not even changing to it's evil crypticness. "What to do, when I want to know so badly..." it caused him to tremble more when her nails scraped the top of his shirt. "Reveale." she called, offering out her hand, bringing to herself an image...no way. "You killed your own girlfriend?" she asked, not straying from the calmness but developing a cold edge that made it obvious she was angry. Well, angrier than before.
"It was an accident!" he stuttered, but the woman kept speaking, explaining the entire situation. Willow shut her eyes at it, bored as she brushed it off wordlessly, letting it disappear.
"So," the dark-haired girl began; "you tried to rape your ex-girlfriend, and when she wouldn't let you, you killed her. You beat her death, then framed Buffy." yes, that made a lot more sense now. "Then, you came into our backyard, tried to kill the Slayer, and ended up killing my girlfriend. " she was more musing it aloud to herself than trying to straighten it out with him. Every word she spoke caused more fear to shock his spine. "Yet," she proceeded, turning her hand into a fist, revealing the metal bullet she'd removed from Buffy's shoulder just earlier; "here you stand, acting as though nothing ever happened." he looked at the object, fear widening his eyes and mouth, as he didn't know what she was going to do with it. "Recognize this?" she asked, lifting it, continuing to talk- dragging it out for the terror she knew was causing him greater pain than she ever could, in his mind, soul and body. "The guilt of killing another human being would be excruciating, but what pity should I have on a monster?"
He couldn't respond. His only response was panting and squeazing his eyes open and shut, as if willing her away. How cute, she thought, he had been reduced to begging the universe for this to be a lie.
"What you are," she said; "is a monster in the body of a human. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, you know. You wanted to be evil, wanted to take over the town...all because of your own damn problems you couldn't take care of on your own. Buffy is the vampire slayer, you know? You've been trying to kill her so you can take over, but do you know how many times she's saved your sorry ass without you even knowing? Do you know that every night, she kills creatures you could never imagine, so that you- among other people- can live your lives as normal people? But yet, you wanted to kill her, because you had girlfriend problems." Willow laughed a cruel, menacing laugh, glaring at him as she did so. He was stuttering in an attempt to apologize, to tell her it was an accident. "Save it," she told him, opening the hand, revealing the bullet- a tiny piece of metal. "You couldn't handle your own problems, so you tried to kill some one to make up for it. You're not a man. You're not even fit to be called scum on the face of this earth. You are so far lower than that. This existence, this body you have, is so much more than what you deserve."
"I know that, I know that," he chanted. Oh dear, now he was crying. That was no fun, now all of the anticipation and waiting was over. She could tell he thought he might change her mind. "Let me apologize to Buffy, please,"
"What is a suitable apology for some one you tried to kill?" she snapped, growing tired of this now. The bullet floated, allowing her to drop her hand. Warren looked as though he was shocked, but she didn't allow him the chance to speak. "Did you think I would forget? Silly boy," she again looked eerily maternal, with a frightening smile on her face as she ruffled his hair. "I'm going to make sure you taste every second of what you've put them both through." the bullet entered his skin, slowly moving, slowly taking apart every thing in it's way. She continued to talk, as though absolutely nothing had been occuring. "Do you know how this toy works, little boy?" Warren looked frantically at the wound, making strained grunting sounds as it moved through so slowly, taking every thing apart. He shook his head, signaling her to laugh again. "Little boy's shouldn't play with grown-up toy's, you know. You know what it's doing? You don't, do you? But it hurts. "
"Please, don't do this," he begged, his muscles tensing crazedly, his breath becoming mere air. "Please, don't kill me, don't do this,"
She only stared at him, a rather eery smile on her face. She didn't respond. The pain grew suddenly worse, drilling deeper into him. His neck stiffened, straightening upwards and he began to scream. Not for long, until she sewed his mouth shut.
"You're so cute," she told him, causing him to abandon the pain in favor of extreme shock and even hope. "A stupid little monster, begging for his life. It's cute, I wish you could see it." she maintained the speed of the bullet, causing it to rotate now, pushing it deeper. "Where is it now, I wonder," she said, pressing her hand over the wound area, letting the blood splurge onto it. He screamed inside his own throat as his mouth never opened. "I had hoped, Warren, you might make this a little more interesting for me." she said, staring at the thick, cooling red fluid on her hand. "But, as it is....you've gotten predictable. Bored now," she jingled, and the look on his face was of pure horror. It was such a lovely picture, the skin of his body peeling upwards, into the sky. Up, up, and away. The sound of disgusted cholking rung from not far off. The dark-haired Willow turned, calmly and pleasantly, already aware of who it was.
"Hello, Dawn." she said, neither happy nor sad. Upon seeing the skin gravitating upwards, the poor girl had begun to cry again, trembling terribly. "How did you find me?" she asked, making no move to comfort her.
"I was at Spike's crypt," she stuttered, trying to keep herself in one piece but to no avail. "But he wasn't there, and I came out and heard some one yelling so I came here..."
"Buffy will be mad at you."
"I don't care," she cried; "I just wanted you to come home."
"Poor thing," Willow's voice sunk to almost-pity.
"I love you," she whined sadly; "Mom's dead, now Tara's dead, Buffy's never home, and Spike just left..." she sniffled, standing up boldly. "Don't do this any more?" she begged, her hand out. "Warren's dead...please just come home?" she wiped her face with her other shirt sleeve, Willow's face remaining in a peaceful stare. "I love you, please?"
"I love you, too, Dawnie." she said, although she wasn't loud, her voice seemed to echo. "That's why I'm not going to do that to you," she motioned towards the hanging skinless male. "Just stay out of my way."
"Willow," she demanded strongly; "this isn't you! You're not evil! You're good! You're the best person I know!" she looked so pitiful. Willow wasn't moved. She only watched, interested at the moment. "You killed Warren, and he deserved it," her eyes drifted to the skinless body, then back; "but don't kill innocent people. Don't do what he did."
"Dawnie," she smiled, sounding maternal, and she did consider extending her hand, but decided against it. "how long have you really known me? Six months? A year? For all you, or I, or any one who knows you knows, every thing you knew about me was false. Don't you remember what happened? I was on my way here, to this. I almost killed you. I almost killed myself. That only made me realize. Tara...just her existence...motivated me to continue becoming what you remember. The good person you remember me to be doesn't exist any more. She's dead."
The weight of the words made Dawn's heart sink.
"I'm sorry I had to disillusion you. I was hoping to leave things as they were. I guess that was... unrealistic." her hand went out, not to take Dawn's, but to ruffle her hair. She allowed the young teen to hug her, but didn't return the gesture.
"Without you, I'll be completely alone," she cried uncontrolably. Willow remained silent. After a small while, she said- with out looking- "Buffy and Xander are here."
"Dawn?!" Buffy demanded angrily; "What are you doing here?!" she pulled away, standing in front of Willow protectively. "I made it clear, not to come after her!" she turned to Xander, handing some thing to him. "Where's Clem?"
"He said I could come!" she fought back.
Buffy muttered some thing about having a talk with him later. "You still knew you weren't supposed to!"
"I wanted to see her!"
Buffy yanked Dawn over to her, standing her near Xander. "Can't you do any thing but cause trouble?!" she practically screamed, having Xander restrain the girl as she turned back to Willow- who was already walking away. "Willow, come with us." she said, and- at this point- she was tired of the begging and the arguing.
"I don't think I will," she smiled perkily.
"Come on. You can't do this any more, Willow. Who knows what you could cause?"
"I don't know, but I'd like to find out." she said, the wind blowing pleasantly, tangling her hair a little, blowing the bangs into her face.
"We want to help you," Xander tried, Dawn not even struggling. He had a strong grip.
"I'm afraid you can't," she replied cryptically; "I've already turned. I suppose that makes us rivals now." she seemed almost sad at that. "I'll see you later," she said, her body slowly vaporizing, and before she was completely gone, she said; "Oh, Dawn, before I go- you really are the loveliest shade of green." the addressed girl lifted her head, eyes widening; "I may turn you back into that crackling orb of energy, if you try to get in my way again." her voice remained gentle and unthreatening. And then the last of her was gone.
"I told you, Dawn," Buffy demanded, pulling her sister by the shoulder; "not to come out here!" she practically threw her sister into the crypt where Clem was still sitting, eating some snacks they figured he must have replenished.
"Back already, Buffy?" he asked, innocently- fearlessly. "I have some chips and popcorn, would you like some?"
"Actually Clem, the only thing I would like is to know why my little sister is out running the town when I left her in your care." she stopped a moment, then added; "And maybe some gingerale,"
"Seconded on the gingerale," Xander said, remaining fairly well quiet- inside his own mind, trying not to lose whatever might be left in his stomach.
"Well," Clem began, standing to go see if there was any gingerale; "Dawn told me she wanted to see Willow, your witch friend. I wasn't really sure what was going on, but since I thought they got along pretty well, I didn't see a reason why she couldn't."
"I see," Buffy sighed, glaring at her sister. "Dawn, you are going to be in so much trouble when this is over--!"
"Take it easy on her, Buff." Xander intervened on the teen's behalf. "They were really close, Willow was...it was bigger than family. To Dawn. You wouldn't have wanted to just sit on the sidelines, either."
"But I'm the slayer, Xander."
"So?" he retorted, holding his stomach. "I'm not, but you didn't make me wait on stand-by."
"You are an adult!" she practically screeched at this point; "And what's more, you're not my responsibility!"
"Are you telling me that if I died, you wouldn't feel the least bit responsible?" Buffy remained silent. Clem re-entered the room with two glasses of gingerale.
"There you guys go," he said. "I'm sorry about Dawn, I just-"
"No, it's not your fault. I should have figured she would do some thing like that. I should have told you what was going on. But don't let her out of here alone, okay? She could be in trouble. None of us really know what's going to happen next."
She chugged the drink down while Xander nursed it. As she handed the drink back to Clem, he nodded a thank-you and said; "You can keep the glass, it isn't mine," and took the one given back into the kitchen. Buffy watched just for a moment when Clem sat down on the couch next to Dawn, who had taken to a rather lifeless stare with tears streaming down her face. "Come on, don't cry," he begged; "I don't know what to do when you cry," and then Xander grabbed Buffy's arm, pulling her out.