Chapter Twenty-Three

Kick his ass

A/N Sorry I haven't updated in a while, have had other projects going on and this one seemed a little short but I'm sure I can flesh it out.

Sunnydale, the world without shrimp 2002

Spike imagined her in all her ways, grumpy, sleepy, angry, all the dwarves got a look in. Even dopey. But it was the caring Buffy that stung him the most, she peered into him and cared, and it hurt because he'd hurt her. He'd pushed her so far and she shouldn't ever forgive him. He felt like punishment was deserved, that's why angry Buffy was a toy to his mind, he knew hurt, he understood pain and its infliction. He could handle her screaming at him, because he felt like nothing.

She was craning over him, her kind eyes shielded by dank basement ruin. The once shiny green pebbles used to glisten with hope, now all else is taken and she glances upon him empty. Not empty, but void. Her life was settled inside her and fate ran its own course through her veins, she was doomed to fight forever. Her hand stroked the hair on his shrill neck, the exposed flesh a stabbing warmth arose before she disappeared from view. Poof, and she was gone.

Or was it hours later, he couldn't tell, he didn't know how long his head was sat swollen in his lap but now she was here, the angry one. The real one. But she's speaking in kind tone, this really is the real one. When the attitude comes out that's real. She's real and she's talking. The gentle caress of her voice soothed him, but he still wasn't in any real comfort. The war raging inside him would always continue, the soul. His soul. It made him remember, the pain caused by memory washed away by forgotten sorrow, or that's how it used to be anyway.

Now, I'm a bloody limpet, stewing in my own filth, loving her and being damned to hate myself. A gypsy curse? More like an evil avenue for remorse. A house of horror. No wonder the angel's always so mopey.

She was talking, blabbing a million miles an hour, but she's saying I can come back, yes. If Willow was alone she would have animated her fist to the air like she was planning in her head, but then Tara was grabbing onto her arm and the professor slowed her chatter to allow for petty acquaintances. Tara's hand slipped into Willow's as she glanced over for a quick check to see if the redhead had gotten her classes back.

Even though Tara had gone to England over the summer, she'd sent forward work that needed finishing whilst she had some free time, thus managing to keep her mind preoccupied when Willow was having her savage bouts of nightmares and magical overloads. It had been tough but they'd gotten through it, together. They were always stronger together, the magick shared between them outgrowing the fear and hatred she wanted banishing.

Then the professor strolled back into the distance and the witches were left standing alone. "All good?" Tara said giving Willow's fingers a gentle squeeze against her own. She would lean in for a kiss, but Willow seemed distracted, slightly out of it.

She nodded back, her eyes glazing as Tara stared for an answer. "Um, yeah all fine, she's going to..." Willow trailed off as she worked out who exactly it was standing a little way off in front of her. "Anya?" She questioned, causing Tara to turn sharply. Anya was holding herself in an oversized trench coat, not something she would ever wear unless with Xander or something. Well not now. Never now, it's over remember brain. Willow said to herself, mentally slapping herself for being such a spaz.

"Oh hi." Anya replied, treading lightly towards them, her arms folded tightly over her chest in protection, allowing herself to be completely covered before the questions could imminently influx about the reasons for her current whereabouts. She walked closer to them, Tara and Willow inching forward slightly to meet her halfway. "What are you two doing here?" Anya said softly, not too much concern about her, she was trying to hide the inner turmoil spoiling the sunny day.

"Willow's starting up class again." Tara said, taking the lead over her girlfriend for once, not for any particular reason, just she could. Confidence had changed her, she wasn't the same timid little girl protected by her mother's magic or amid stuttery teenager alone in a new school without any friends. Then she Willow's excitement tugging on her sleeve itching to interrupt and speak.

"Yeah, I can't believe how great it's all been, I-I was a little worried I wouldn't be able to keep up but I already have books and homework, and they even said they'd give me periodic surprise quizzes just to make up for the ones I missed and-" Tara smiled at her, oh how Willow liked to babble, she moaned about Dawn but it was Willow who stole the crown on rambling really fast. And only Willow could get overexcited over homework, her Willow. Forever and always. But when her head wound its way back to face Anya, she realised Willow had stopped, her words pausing.

Tara's brow furrowed, what had stopped the Willow-babble from occurring? Then she began speaking again, "Wh-What are you doing here?" Willow said, glancing back at Tara, then flicking to Anya. She did think it was slightly strange that Anya was here at this time of day, and wearing, that.

Anya shifted between her feet, her face growing anxious as the memories she'd tried to suppress kept coming to the surface of her mind. Unlike Vampires, she was a demon with a soul, she could sense it. Being a human had brought pain back to her, pain and patience and heartbreak, she'd been scorned herself. Time had wittered away at her. So she'd come up with a lie, push Willow and Tara aside and go home, she couldn't deal with this properly right now. "Oh, I um-" Then the lie tumbled out about some boyfriend she didn't have.

Willow seemed to buy into it, a happy smile passing over her lips. But Tara noticed the slight nervous twitch in Anya's voice and reached out for her arm. She pulled Anya's wrist forward, just an act of friendly comfort that she thought might be needed. Anya looked too panicked for the excuse she'd made up. Tara felt a warm stickiness rubbing against her skin, she looked down at where their wrists connected, there was a small patch of very ripe red blood etched onto Anya's hand. Tara looked down at her wrist then up at Willow's curious then back at Anya's worrying brown eyes.

"Anya? B-Blood, there's blood on your wrist." Tara said staring cautiously, had she cut herself maybe?

Anya tried to form some words but language failed her and she quickly pulled out of Tara's grasp and turned her back on the couple, walking away in an almost sprint. A few syllables trailing behind her. "I-I, have to go."

"So we followed the path down towards the frat house, and there was a big blood splatter on the floor, then there was more blood." Willow paused for a second for a breath, they'd been to see what Anya had done, working out where the blood had come from. Now they were sitting around in armchairs in the Summers' living room, Tara perched on the arm beside Willow.

"Yeah there was just blood coating everything, it seemed random though, th-then. In the other, room." Tara shook out, what she'd seen was. Was horrible, she couldn't bare thinking about it. She'd hid behind Willow when they'd opened the door together. Back in the present Willow clutched at Tara's digits, reminding her it was alright with a small nod and a kind look in her eyes. She would continue the story.

"There were boys, a dozen or more, big holes in their chests, then Tara turned, she heard the girl calling from the closet." Willow gave Tara a gentle smile before looking back at Buffy and Xander and continuing. "She was crouched all alone, just repeating her words over and over again, what was it?" Willow asked Tara, she had been trying to recall the memory but it was stuck from coming.

"Take it back. Sh-she was saying take it back. Like a wish." Tara hesitated before letting Willow finish.

"Then we were attacked, by the spider thingy, we managed to get up a forcefield but it ran off. That's what you guys killed." Buffy wanted to know who'd done this, what kind of demon they were working with, or even just how the spider demon got there, they needed full research mode, and Giles.

"Do you guys have any idea what could've done this?" She said looking pointedly at the two witches. They glanced at each other mirroring the other's poignant look of worry at what Buffy might think of what they had to say, but they knew, they couldn't say nothing. And Xander. He's my best friend I can't do this to him, Tara if he knows what Buffy will do he'll.

I know sweetie, Tara mentally replied, opening their telepathic link again, they needed it now, they hadn't the time to leave the room and risk being overheard, Xander and Buffy were both in their own heads too much to notice at this moment. But Buffy needs to know, she can't stop it, she can't stop Anya from hurting people if she doesn't know. And we might be able to get through to her. Xander, might get through to her, like he did with you. He got you Wil, I tried, but if it wasn't for him we wouldn't be here.

Baby, you did what you could, without you there I would be a shell, a hollow black drugged up moron. You brought me back to life, you sang, and I love you, don't forget it. Willow could even ramble off topic in her own head, by now though Buffy and Xander were both looking at the pair with slight annoyance that they seemed to be staring into the outer realms of each other's eyes.

"They're doing the telepathy couple thing again." Buffy said rolling her eyes a little, crossing her arms and legs to wait for a reply.

"Ahh, I think it's kind of sweet." Xander replied before Buffy leapt off the couch and made for the door. But before she could leave Willow cast out a hand and start speaking. She couldn't let Buffy without knowing it was Anya. If not she was in danger.

"It was Anya, we saw her, before..." Willow finally blurted out.

"When were you guys planning on telling us this, I can't. I can't believe her." Xander interrupted, half to the group half in his own head, he trusted Anya, he loved her. He still loved her. He couldn't believe she would do this, his Anya, the one he was going to marry. Or was I? Maybe I didn't. Maybe I knew it would end like this. Then he heard Buffy talking about killing her.

Then the argument heated, Xander was angry. He couldn't contemplate the idea that Buffy could entertain even the slightest idea of killing Anya. It had started with kinder words but then Xander realised he couldn't watch her go, he couldn't let her die for this. It was her stupid job, her stupid vengeance job that he hated but she did it. He still loved her so much, he couldn't bare it.

Then she brought him up. Angel. His name still made her blood boil. And she loved him more than anything, but it had to be done. He had to die because of the power she'd invoked in him. His demon side, Angelus. It was all her fault he'd turned and then it was her fault when he died and fell through hell. She'd killed him. And she wanted to bow down to the floor and cry in this moment because no one, not Anya, not Angel not even Spike deserved to die because of her actions but she had to. That was her job, to save the world. No matter what the cost apparently.

It was her gypsy curse and hers alone. To long love a man she could never have, to never fall, to stand until her beating heart could bleed no more. "Do you remember cheering me on?" She said, her head pained towards Willow now. Flicking between her two best friends, Willow's message beating through her like a knife. "Both of you, Xander you remember giving me Willow's message. Kick his ass."

Buffy stared hard at Xander, it was all coming back to her in flashes, why she'd left that summer, her love she had to kill. The betrayal of her best friends who didn't... Willow's speaking.

"Hey, I never said any of that." Detaching herself from the slightly scared Tara she stood between Buffy and Xander, "I told Xander to tell you that we were working on the spell that I could figure it out." She looked at Xander, a heavy disappointment engrossed in her eyes as she felt disgusted in him for a split second, then came guilt. She couldn't blame him, he just wanted Buffy to be safe, wanted dangers like Angel to stay away.

Buffy focussed her anger on Xander now, this was his own fault. All of it. The five year old Angel debate and Anya. If he hadn't left her, she wouldn't have gone back to vengeance. He pushed her over the edge so she needed release and vengeance is all she'd known for a thousand years, of course she was going to fall back on old habits.

"Xander I can't fight over this anymore, Anya is out there and she's hurting people, she's killed people Xand, don't you see, everything is always different and I have to fix this." Buffy raged slower, quietly as she grasped a palm on the door knob, pulling the door firmly before leaving in search of the vengeance demon.

"Killing won't fix this Buff." Xander replied after a long drawn out pause. But she still left, and he walked past her. Brushing through the door with a tooth of revenge lodged in his brain. Leaving Willow standing in the middle of the room out of words, not knowing how she could possibly help. Buffy was right, this was too complicated.