Chapter 32

In The Blood

The room is familiar to me, the common area where I played wall flower at the kegger the night I… well, it's the same space, only without the windows that took up the north wall. Fake spiderwebs adorn the corners and wall, and about the ceiling paper bunting of pumpkins in orange and black hang from the ceiling. A plastic cauldron sits in the middle of the room, adapted into a drinks cooler, packed about with dry ice that spews mist down and over the floor. And there, amongst it all is Buffy Summers.

She is slumped against the far wall, between where the windows should be, her legs lost beneath the crawling grey mists from the cauldron. Her arms are limp and her head is tilted back to rest against the wall, which is stained red with the blood matted in her hair.

And cradled in her lap is the limp form of Willow. And there is just so, so much blood.

I am dimly aware of Anya's anguished cries as Giles holds her. So it is on me. This is on me. I let my legs carry me forward, though the rest of me is dead and gone, and somewhere in those steps comes the dull, heavy thud of my axe dropping to the floor.

Buffy is breathing, ragged and slow. As I kneel beside her, her eyes slowly open and she lets out a sigh that sends a rivulet of blood from her lips.

"Giles, she's alive. Buffy, it's okay we found you."

"It's not okay." She says, weakly. "It isn't. Don't hate me. Please, don't hate me. I didn't… I should have…"

Her tears are fresh on her cheeks, but she isn't crying now. She looks down at Willow, stroking a hand over the limp girl's somehow unbloodied ginger locks. Her neck has been opened up by a row deep puncture wounds over her shoulder. She is hot to the touch, and though her pulse is hammering under my fingertips, no blood is spraying from her wounds.

"Giles! Get us out of here!" I scream. "Now!"


The night air has a razor edged chill on my sweat soaked, exposed flesh as I drag Willow's limp body outside and onto the lawn.

I work fast, tearing off the bloodied garments and assessing the damage, three deep lacerations on her arm (defensive wounds?) And an arc of puncture wounds over her shoulder. I staunch the blood.

Anya is silently kneeling beside Willow, a puppet with her strings cut. She just stares, her face ashen white, not a tear or anything. Just… Jesus that's a lot of blood. It cannot be hers, can it?

"It's you." Comes the words, so faintly I nearly miss it. It's Willow, looking up at me, her eyes glassy and pale. "I missed y …" she starts to say, but taps out, her lips going slack just for a moment before she coughs and jerks back awake. Her lips coated in a strange opalescent foam. "No." She says, shaking her head. "Don't."

"Paramedics are on the way." Giles says, jogging back from the payphone on the street. "Buffy, are you injured?"

"I couldn't stop them." I hear her mumble, "they just… they had these… guns and… she… she… "

"It's okay Buffy, just breathe. Can you tell me if you are injured?" Giles says. I don't hear a reply.

"The blood has stopped." I say, confused. "It's like it's closing but… is this a spell? Anya, did she cast a healing spell or…"

"Xander." Giles says. "Lexi… step away from her. Go wash your hands now."

"But Giles I need to…"

"Do it." He says, firm to the point of shouting, a command not to be questioned.

It sinks in then what he is trying to tell me. And I know what it is that bit her. And I know what it means. And… and… and reluctantly, I step away from Willow, and numbly stagger back. And somewhere inside, whilst staring at Willow's blackening fizzing blood on my hands, something in me breaks and my legs go slack, and my face is burning and tear soaked as I slump to the floor.

"It's okay." Willow says, dreamily "It's going to be okay. It doesn't hurt anymore."

I am aware that Giles is beside me, hand on my shoulder as my body is wracked with heavy sobs.

"Oh hey, everyone." Willow says, her voice soft and slurred. "Oz is back."


I have this grey blanket around me and a mug of tea in my hands and I don't remember exactly when or who gave me either. I am sitting on the curb, hunched over and exhausted, as paramedics and police whirl around the scene in a blur of movement and flashing lights.

Willow is inside the ambulance. I hear the squeal and thunk of the defibrillators, but I know she won't die. I know she will probably flatline for a bit, and then her pulse will suddenly come back hard and fast. Because that's how it works. And tomorrow she will run hot and hear voices, and itch and be delirious, and next month… Things will never be the same again.

The tea is mostly sugar, and I gulp it down anyways. I am aching and angry and numb all at once. Giles looks exhausted as he comes to sit next to me.

"Oz will never forgive himself." I say.

"He called me last week." Giles says. "He said he had found a way to control the wolf, through spiritual and herbal means, so he was able to ignore the call when the moon was full."

"He came back for Willow." I say. Giles nods. "And you didn't tell him she moved on."

"It wasn't my place." Giles says. "Maybe I should have."

"We need to track him down. Before he hurts anyone else. Do you still have the tranquilizer gun?"

"Lexi. Buffy said she fended him off whilst the other students fled. But then some soldiers dressed in black appeared and used some kind of, er, electric shock weaponry to pacify them."

"So where are they now?"

"That's just it. The men took Oz." The police tell me the fraternity house is empty, they searched it, and no signs of the men or Oz. They are questioning students."

"Where's Buffy?" I said.

"The ambulance took her away. She had several gun shot wounds."

I finish my tea, shuck off the blanket and stand.

"We need to get to work. Find out who they are. Find Oz." I say. "The house must have clues."

"No." Giles says. "I need to contact Joyce. Go home Lexi, get some rest, if you can. We will start tomorrow."

"Giles… I…"

"Lexi, it's just us now." He says. And that fact hits me between the eyes like a rock. He places his hand on my shoulder reassuringly and then with a nod, he bids me good night and wearily walks away.

"Well then. The earth is definitely doomed." I mumble.

Faith is deep asleep when I get back. I slip into the shower with my ruined, bloody costume still on and let my Halloween nightmare drown.