Accusations and Revenge

"She's possessed!"

Xander threw his arms up for emphasis and looked around at the gang knowingly. Dawn raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes, leaning back into the couch's soft cushions. She crossed her arms and looked away from the group, lost in her own thoughts.

Willow frowned softly at Xander, wincing at her bruised cheek. "I don't think so, Xand. If she was possessed I would've been able to feel it, sense it in her aura. And besides, it wouldn't add up anyway. I mean, she was crying her eyes out before she went all 'grrr,'" she said, making claw motions with her hands, "I don't think a possessing demon would be that emotional."

Xander sighed. "Well, it's got to be something evil!" Then his eyes widened and he gave a little bounce on the couch, pointing at Willow, "Oh! Oh! A spell! It's gotta be a spell! That's what's making Buffy all insane."

"She's not insane!"

The whole gang was surprised at the outburst, and they turned to look at Dawn, who was practically fuming on the far end of the couch, successfully separate from the rest of the group. She pinned them all with a furious glare that so unbearably resembled that of her sister's; Spike, leaning uneasily against the doorway, felt a tug at his heart as he studied her with painful eyes.

Willow frowned at her. "Dawnie, Xander didn't mean –"

"She wouldn't even be like this if it weren't for you!" Dawn shouted, jumping to her feet now and focusing her glare on Willow, who was gaping at her in shock. "You pulled her out of Heaven! You made her crawl out of her freakin grave! No wonder she's depressed. If I was her, I would've put a piece of glass to my wrist, also!"

Tara, who had been silent up until then, widened her eyes at Dawn. "Dawn –"

"DON'T you even TRY to defend her!" Dawn burst. At this, the Scoobies were beyond shocked, because Dawn adored Tara and Willow. She had never raised her voice at them. Ever.

"You're all sitting here, pretending that something's wrong with her, cause hey, she can't have issues, can she? She has to be perfect, no mistakes for the Slayer. Well guess what? She's not perfect. She's miserable and she doesn't know how to deal. I wonder who's fault that is?" she adds with a pointed glare, "So don't any of you even dare try to say there's something evil or wrong about my sister. What she is now is because of you." Dawn raised her chin, glaring down at the people she had always so completely trusted. "I hope you're happy. You broke the person that means the most to me in this world." With that, she stomped past them and up the stairs to her room, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

The Scoobies sat in the living room, frozen in their seats. Willow had tears spilling down her face and Xander sat pensive on the couch, his jaw set firmly. Tara did her best to comfort Willow, but it was mostly useless. Even Anya sat quiet next to Xander, at least having the sense to not make any comments. The intense silence was broken suddenly by a chuckle from the doorway. Four heads turned to Spike.

"Well, well, 'Lil Bit is more like her sister than I thought. Made you all shut up for a change," he said, smirking at the Scoobies and not feeling the tiniest bit of pity for any of them.

Xander scowled at him. "Shut up, Spike! What the hell are you doing here anyway?"

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Well, I seem to recall saving the Slayer from bleeding to death."

Xander clenched his fists, disturbed by the fact that Spike was the one that had gotten to Buffy first. "And now that you've done that, it doesn't answer my question. So why don't I rephrase it. What the hell are you still doing here?"

Spike clenched his jaw. "Well, Dog Boy, as much as you hate it, I do love the Slayer. So forgive me for not wanting to go off and play kitten poker with some of the fella's."

Xander opened his mouth to protest, but Spike cut him off. "You know what, sod it. You lot aren't doing anything except pitying yourselves, anyway. I'm going to look for the Slayer. "

Spike turned towards the front door but was stopped by Willow's voice. "Wait, Spike. Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, you saw how she was, maybe it is something mystical…or maybe it's not. But whatever it is, she's barely stable. What would you do if you found her anyway?"

Spike sighed. "I don't know, Red, but I have to do something. I can't just stand around while she's somewhere flinging herself off a cliff or –" His eyes widened as he took that in. "Oh, bloody hell."

"What?" Willow asked.

"I should have bloody known!" At the gang's confused looks, he rolled his eyes. "She's gone to fling herself off a cliff, you morons!" Heading back towards the front door, he ignored Willow calling his name and stormed outside. Closing his eyes and catching the unique scent of Buffy, he ran down the road and followed it, hoping he wasn't too late.

I stand at the edge, looking down the steep cliff and wincing as I imagine myself falling to the ground. It would be painful…very, but this is the only other way I can do it. I already tried cutting myself, that didn't work. This way…they couldn't stop me. It would be a quick death and no one was here to tell me otherwise. Just step off the cliff…and that would be it.

But as I continue staring down at what could be my death, there is a different feeling inside of me that wasn't there when I cut myself. I feel…different then before. I had felt weak, having no desire to do anything, not even slay. But now, I feel a surge of power inside of me and have the sudden need to be violent. To pummel something into the ground. To see the look of absolute terror on a demon's face and revel in it. There is so much hostility in me now and suddenly I know what I want to do. What it is that I need.

"Revenge," I whisper.

The word is music to my ears and I no longer feel guilt for wanting it. To get back at the people who had started this in the first place. My friends.

They aren't really my friends, though, of course. I actually don't think they ever have been. True friends wouldn't have done this to me. They wouldn't have ripped me from peace and happiness just because they needed me back. True friends wouldn't have been that selfish and stupid. They aren't friends.

They're enemies.

I smile now to myself, taking pleasure in the fact of getting revenge on them. I breathe in deeply, wondering where I should start first.

But as I hear the footsteps behind me and that distinct British voice calling my name, I smile.

I know exactly where I'm going to start.