Lost and Foundering
~**~**~
Chapter Seven
~**~**~
Whatever experience Willow had in Buffy's mind previously, it did not
reoccur here. In fact, the two events were as separate as they could
be.
First off, Willow didn't expect the time and effort it took just to
find the memory center of Buffy's brain. Since her mind had been in a
loop before, there wasn't any way she could get lost. Here, it was a
different story altogether. It was only after she hit upon the idea of
finding a stray memory of hers, and tracking it to its source, that she
found what she'd been searching for.
The area was dark and cave-like, filled with nebulous strands of blue-
silver light that dangled from one surface and drifted, unattached on
the other end, reminding Willow of the sway of sea anemones in the
ocean current. Curious, she reached out and touched one of the strands,
and the jolt of a memory that wasn't hers filled her consciousness...
...Playing in the sandbox with unknown children, and complaining about
the lack of shovels to go around...
Her hand pulled away, and the memory faded. She followed it to the end,
which looked almost as if it had been cut perfectly across. Where did
this end go? Did it connect to the surface, or to another strand?
Testing out a method, Willow took the end and touched it to the wall
surface. Gradually, the light bled into the dark, attaching itself as
if coming back from a long journey away.
Willow smiled in triumph, but that smile faded as she regarded the
hundreds--no, thousands--of strands left to be reattached.
"One down, many *many* more to go," she sighed, and reached for the
next tendril of memory.
****
When Giles, he appraised the situation with the keenest of attention,
then did what he did best; he fretted.
"Why did that fool girl go and try something like this, without at
least consulting someone else?"
"Well, she did it before without telling anyone," Dawn tried, but he
was not in a mood to be soothed.
"Which was *not* the wisest thing she could have done. Yes, it worked
in the end, but that was a desperate situation. This wasn't desperate,
or even urgent. She's risking her life, and Buffy's, unnecessarily."
Dawn looked back to the unmoving pair, then back to Giles. "What do you
mean? This isn't safe?"
Giles took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "When Buffy was
comatose, the threat wasn't as dire. Most of her brain functions had
been funneled into a loop. If Willow had been weaker, she might have
been trapped in that loop. In this case there is no loop, and she could
very well get lost if she doesn't focus on what she's doing."
"Can't we just, y'know, shake her so she wakes up?"
"Without knowing where she is in Buffy's brain, or what she's doing? I
wouldn't advise it. I would consider it as our last option, if all else
fails."
Dawn sighed and looked at the clock. It had been an hour. How many more
would go by before they came back?
As if Giles could read her thoughts, he said, "They could be like this
for hours, Dawn. If you have somewhere to be, I can stay with them."
"No, that's okay. I was wondering...when is it too long? For the
trance, I mean?"
Giles grimaced. "It's hard to say. I can't even guess at Willow's
strength, and it might three or four hours before they emerge. She
won't leave until she's managed to accomplish her goal, or made sure
every effort has been tried." He laid a comforting hand on Dawn's
shoulder. "Willow will do everything in her power to restore Buffy's
memory. If she's continued to grow in her abilities since I left, then
I have few doubts she'll come back empty-handed."
Somehow, that didn't comfort Dawn as much as she would've liked.
****
For every fifty Willow reconnected, it felt like a hundred more
appeared. She knew it didn't work that way, that there had to be an end
to the number of strands, but at the moment it didn't feel like it. And
it didn't look like it, either.
Ever so often, she caught a glimpse of some sort of light, hazy and
indistinct. It would weave through the strands as if trying to figure
out what to do, then disappear. After a while it would reappear and do
it all over again, as if caught in a never-ending loop. With time, she
learned to ignore it and continue on, since it appear to be either
helping or hurting. And as she progressed, the jolt of a foreign memory
unnerved her less and less. Soon, she learned how to ignore it as well,
letting the memories wash over her without truly absorbing it.
There were times where she couldn't help taking a peek, though. Buffy
had memories of things she'd never experienced, and curiosity took hold
of her. It was strange to see different memories of events they'd
shared. Conversations were slightly altered, outcomes shifted, but to
Willow's surprise, in the end very little had changed. In an odd way,
it was a comfort to know things hadn't been heavily tweaked...aside
from the insertion of a younger sister, of course.
However, when she peeked into a moment of happiness she shouldn't have,
she instantly swore off her voyeuristic tendencies and ended up
blushing every time she ran across a memory containing Angel.
In the process of her task, Willow had no concept of time, only the
goal of restoring her friend's remembrance of the past. Fatigue wore
her down bit by bit, miniscule at first, then it became noticeable as
her work continued. It didn't deter her--she figured this would happen,
eventually. The important thing was to make sure she finished before
she became too tired out to withdraw from Buffy's mind.
The temporary worry drifted away as she consumed herself in her task,
forgetting her concerns as her friend took first priority.
****
Three hours passed, then four, then five. Worry became a quaint term as
both Dawn and Giles felt the tendrils of fear grip them with every
passing minute. Absolutely nothing had happened, and Giles almost
wished something would happen--even if it was bad--just so he could do
something other than watch.
He laughed inwardly at the thought. Rupert Giles, a Watcher by trade,
who desperately wanted to do anything but. It would be pathetic if it
wasn't so funny.
Buffy's sister was up in her room, no longer able to wait patiently in
the living room. Seeing her distress, he had given her permission to
leave Buffy and Willow's side for a while, assuring her that he would
call for her if anything occurred. She'd smiled in gratitude, and as
she had climbed the stairs, the nostalgia of a weary adulthood made him
miss the freedom from responsibility that came with youth. If only
someone could tell him things would be all right, in the end...
A soft groan came from Willow, and his whole attention came awake and
focused on the young witch, all senses searching for signs of seizure,
the typical result of fatigue of this sort.
"Dawn!" He called out, and immediately the door opened and he could
hear her hurried footsteps coming closer. Willow hadn't done or said
anything more, but he couldn't take the chance of dropping his guard
now. Not if he hoped to make sure the two girls came out of this alive.
****
It was getting hard to focus, Willow realized as she attached another
strand to the wall. There were only a few ones left, and thankfully not
all the strands in this chamber had been disconnected. She was
intensely curious to find out which ones they were, but after her
debacle with the Angel memory, she thought it best to leave it alone.
All of those remaining were of the last few days before the fight with
Glory, unpleasant memories that Willow didn't relish going through
again. Still, it was interesting to learn how Buffy and Spike had
gotten the RV, and a smile rose unbidden on her face when she noted
that the Thompsons' had involuntarily helped Buffy out of a sticky
situation twice. Good thing she'd told Buffy to leave cash in place of
the note, when she'd gone back to return the clothes.
Lethargically, she reconnected the remaining ones, until only two were
left. Her mind distantly wondered what they could be, and in a move she
wouldn't have done if she hadn't been so tired, grabbed both at the
same time.
Both memories fought for dominance, and she pushed against the
intrusion into her mind. Fear seized her as she only now realized what
one of the memories contained. Willow placed the strand against the
wall, but it was too late.
Her body was falling, but it was Buffy's body, heading into the blue-
white ball of energy that was the portal. And then she stopped in the
portal's grip, pain lacing intricate patterns throughout her body,
causing muscles to spasm and convulse.
****
Willow's scream made Dawn and Giles jump, and they ran to her side as
she began to writhe, as if in a seizure. Giles's expression darkened
and he held on to Willow's arm as he prepared himself enter into the
same sort of trance, intent on bringing her out despite the enormous
risk to himself.
Then the spasms tapered off into nothing, and Willow sagged in the
chair, still unconscious.
"Giles, what happened? Is she okay?"
"I-I think so," he replied, wiping his brow with a shaking hand.
Whatever had happened, it wasn't the result of fatigue. Willow's heart
continued to beat, and she was still immersed in the spell.
Then he added softly, "God, I wish I knew what was happening."
****
The memory faded, leaving Willow exhausted from the experience. With
the ordeal over, the other memory slipped in as she weakly moved the
strand into position against the wall, and watched as it absorbed into
the wall, attaching itself with a certain resoluteness. The last memory
overtook Willow's mind, and she let this one wash over her, unable to
stop it and curious to know what else remained.
...Buffy found herself floating. The whiteness of her surroundings
should have blinded her, but instead she was able to look around
without the mildest squint, amazed and unafraid. Doors stood around her
in retreating circles in the white nothing, all looking as if they had
been there for ages. All were different in shape, and made of various
materials--the ones of precious metals, wood, and bone she could easily
identify. The others, she wasn't sure she wanted to find out.
"Which one should I try? Door number one, door number two, or door
number twenty-five...?" She asked out loud, not expecting an answer.
She got one, anyway.
*These doors are not for you, Slayer.*
Buffy waited for the echoes to recede. "Would the mystery voice please
identify yourself? Or do I have to do another game show reference,
here?"
*We are what We are. We have been since the beginning of Time. We will
continue to be even when stars have faded to nothingness.*
"Pretentious much? Unless, of course, you're the Powers That...oh."
*We see that you still have the trappings of your mortal self. In time,
this will pass.*
Buffy circled around, still unable to spot anyone, not even a tall
curtain with suspicious movement coming from behind. "O-kay. I get it.
I'm dead. Took me awhile, but I can't say I'm surprised. I guess I
kinda thought the afterlife would be a little more..." she searched the
bareness of the white infinity, "...accessorized?"
*This is only a transition point. The nature of your death was
atypical--your essence, or soul, was divided among several realities.
Realities that these doors represent. We collected those pieces and
reformed them here, at the Nexus.*
Meaning her world was behind one of these doors. Buffy looked down at
herself, nonplused at finding a solid body instead of an ethereal one.
"So, what's with the body? It's not real, is it?"
*Reality is subjective. Here, it is real. Elsewhere, it would be
intangible.* If Buffy didn't know better, she'd think the Voice was
getting a bit exasperated. *Now that you are whole, you are ready to
continue your journey.*
"Journey? And I didn't even bring my toothbrush," Buffy quipped.
The pause was infinitesimal, but she visualized an elderly man in white
robes pinching the bridge of his nose, much as Giles would do. *It's
time. Just walk through the doorway behind you, and you will be
transported to your final destination.*
She spun to find an oval of swirling color behind her, opalescent on
its surface. "Could...could I see my friends and my sister before I go?
Just one last time?"
*They are not of your concern...*
"The hell they aren't! Oh, um, sorry," she wrung her hands, distraught.
"It's just...I sacrificed myself to save them all, and it would give me
a lot of peace of mind, er, soul, to know they're fine. Please?"
Another pause, and the Voice replied, *You may have one last look, by
Our divine benevolence.* A paneled door made of some dark wood opened
to her left, and she walked over to view what was beyond.
The views kept changing, shifting...subdivisions and cities flashed
before her, then farmland and mountainous terrain, then back to
civilization in a random fashion. Slowly, the flashes became more
specific--Buffy recognized Los Angeles, then the outskirts of
Sunnydale, and then she was seeing her house at dusk, looking alone and
bereft in the last gasps of day.
*The stream of Time is different at the Nexus than elsewhere, and it
has continued to flow while We were reconstructing your soul. The time
you are seeing is later than when you left your realm.*
"How long?"
*Fourteen of your realm's days have passed.*
Two weeks. Buffy closed her eyes, hoping that she was strong enough to
see the aftermath of her death. "Show me my sister."
The view changed, and now Buffy was seeing the insides of her sister's
room. Dawn was on her bed, staring up at the ceiling with a faraway
dead look in her eyes. The sight sent shivers down Buffy's back.
"Show me my friend Giles," she asked thickly, and the picture changed
again to show her house's family room. He sat on the couch with a
similar look in his eyes, but she couldn't hear what he was saying to
Willow and Tara. They stood side by side facing him, their faces
conveying shock.
"Turn up the volume, would ya?"
*You asked for visual confirmation, not auditory.*
"Well, I'm asking *now*, okay? Please?"
After a moment, Giles' words came filtering in, sounding a million
miles away. "...they still haven't turned up any leads on his
whereabouts. I'm afraid they won't, either."
"But Giles, how could he do this? He's her father, for crying out
loud," Willow said, her own expression bleak despite the anger in her
voice.
"Well, he had no reason to believe anything would go wrong, let alone
that Joyce and Buffy would die--it's not a defense of the poncy bugger,
though, I assure you. But as far as we know, he has no idea what's
happened. I have to say, his timing couldn't have been worse."
Tara nodded in sad agreement. "The company didn't say how much money he
stole, did they?"
"No, but Angel seems to think it was around a million dollars--whatever
his pension with the company would have been if they hadn't laid him
off. He apparently felt he was justified in taking the money."
Buffy's heart sank. Her father had stole money, then skipped the
country? No wonder the number in Spain was no good. And Dawn...Buffy
had thought--no, she'd hoped--that their father would reappear after
she died, but that didn't seem likely to happen now.
At least Dawn had the gang--even Spike, if the vampire hadn't already
fled past the city limits. "Show me Xander, please," she asked, her
voice weak, but it was only a shadow of how she felt.
He was in the graveyard, with Anya by his side. Both had stakes poised
and ready, obviously patrolling in her absence. She smiled in
gratitude, proud of her friends even in her anxiousness for their
safety, but it seemed everything was all right, here...
...Then she glimpsed the figures hiding in the shadows, and amended her
statement.
The fight was horrible to watch. Her friends took more blows than they
gave out, and it looked like the vampires were winning when a black-
clad blur descended on the group, turning one into ash followed closely
by another. Buffy knew it was Spike before she even saw him clearly,
and the relief she felt at seeing him battled with the knowledge that
he was still a member of the undead. That he had stayed to fight after
her death was the tie-breaker, and she felt overwhelmed with gratitude
for Spike's efforts to keep her friends safe.
The vamps who weren't smart enough to flee from the group ended up as
dust. Buffy's sense of satisfaction came back as she realized her
friends were victorious. However, what they were saying wasn't
comforting in the slightest.
"How many was that, now? Ten?" Anya asked as Xander helped her up from
the ground.
"Nine, I think. I kind of stopped counting after my skull connected
with that tombstone over there," Xander replied, gingerly touching a
red spot on his temple.
"It's Buffy's grave they're after. I've been doing my best to keep 'em
away, but once word spread that the Slayer was gone, Sunnydale's turned
into sodding Miami Beach during Spring Break." Buffy noticed Spike was
clutching his side, but her concern was dampened by the meaning of his
words. Her death had saved reality from coming apart, but now it was
affecting life in a way she'd never anticipated.
"But it'll die down after awhile...right?" Anya asked hopefully.
Spike shrugged, then winced from the movement. "Dunno. Vamps that would
normally shy away from here due to the threat of the Slayer are pouring
in, and the name of Spike is doing bugger all to keep them away. The
Slayer's a legend, and Buffy..." He ducked his head and visibly
swallowed, before continuing. "She made her own legends."
Buffy was surprised at how much it hurt to see Spike's grief. And now
that she was watching, his eyes were the same as Dawn and Giles--
hollowed and bleak. As if nothing could possibly cause him more pain
than what he was already suffering.
She had told Dawn to live, to tell her friends to live on for her;
she'd never meant for them to fight for their lives after she was gone.
In a small part of her mind, she wept at her lack of foresight. The
world needed a Slayer, and clearly Faith wasn't in the running, thanks
to her prison sentence. With two weeks already gone by, it appeared her
death hadn't called another Slayer, either.
The view stayed with the group as they walked, or limped, away from the
area, but it didn't register with Buffy--she was already trying to
solve the problem. "I can't just let this happen. These are my
friends..."
*You have earned rest, Slayer. The concerns of mortals are beyond your
worries, now.*
"But they need my help! And, and there's no Slayer to defend the
Hellmouth...that's tipping the scales way off, wouldn't you say? I
mean, you guys are into the whole balance thing, right? I have to go
back."
*That is not possible.*
"Not possible? For you? I don't think so. You can wave a hand, or
whatever you have, and send me back home, good as new."
*You are correct in saying a balance needs to be maintained. However,
even We cannot go against the natural order unless a sacrifice is
made.*
"Great. More sacrifice," Buffy replied under her breath. "So, what do
you mean, like a human one?"
The Voice ignored the question. *As in magic, a price is paid for
changing order and bending it to the caster's will. We are beyond
magic, but the payment is still necessary. We could not remove the one
you know as Angel from the hell dimension he opened until 100 years had
passed in that realm.*
"So, again, what do I need to do--or sacrifice--in order to go back?
I'm already dead, so that's kinda blown..."
*What would you offer?*
Now that took her by surprise. She had nothing to offer them, nothing
that she didn't need after she got back home. She'd give them her soul,
but it wasn't a viable choice...she'd need it if she didn't want to be
a zombie, or possibly even a vampire. The only other thing she could
think of that she possessed were her memories.
But before she went that far, she asked the Voice something else. "How
much time would I have to spend here to make the payment for going
back? You said Angel had 100 years--with time off for good behavior I
could do maybe fifty? Or twenty-five?"
*Time means little, here. But in your realm, seventeen years would have
to pass in order to maintain balance.*
Okay, that wasn't going to work. She closed her eyes and quietly said,
"What if, what if I gave up my memories? How many of them would you
need in order for that balance thing to happen?"
The silence went on longer than she expected. What could she afford to
lose, and still be effective? What price would be good enough for them?
With some reluctance, she added, "How about...five, from when I first
started as a Slayer. Would that make it even?"
*With the removal of the implanted memories, and a span of three months
in your realm...yes. It is acceptable.*
"Whoa, wait. Removal of implanted memories?"
*You have two sets of memories of your life, one overlaying the other.
If that false thread is removed from the rest of the true memories, it
will meet the requirement for balance and payment.*
The thought of losing those moments with Dawn made her heart heavy, but
in the end, she chose to accept the bargain. It would be better to be
there for her and not remember, than to be absent and still have those
memories. And if nothing else, at least she wouldn't remember her
mother's death, or sending Angel to hell, or any of the other things
from the past five years that made her long for a normal life. Besides,
maybe it would be for the best...even if she couldn't see how, just
yet.
After a period of time that Buffy was unable to gauge, she was told to
jump through the portal as scenes from Sunnydale went by...
...and she landed on the ground in a crouch, naked, terrified and
unable to remember anything beyond her last day as a regular girl, as
agreed upon in a forgotten transaction.
****
Willow opened her eyes wearily, her body stiff and sore from lack of
movement. Giles was right by her side, looking worried and relieved at
the same time. If he was here, then...then it had been more than three
hours. Squinting at the light from the encroaching sunset, her mind
caught up and figured out it had been at least five, if not more.
"Buffy, is she...?" Willow asked, coming fully around. Just then, her
friend blinked and looked around, disoriented and troubled. Dawn wrung
her hands and approached her sister cautiously, afraid the spell had
only succeeded in obliterating the memories that remained.
Buffy focused on the girl, then smiled. "Dawn! Oh God, I remember..."
she jumped up and hugged her sister, "I remember."
"Everything?" Dawn asked hopefully, and Buffy concentrated for a
second, then shook her head.
"The implanted memories are still gone. But I remember everything from
last year, and I think...some of the others, from when I thought back
on them. It's more of a dream-like memory, though. They're hard to pin
down."
Willow smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I tried. They just weren't
there."
The blonde woman slumped back into the couch, feeling oddly lighter and
heavier at the same time. "I know. I remember now why they aren't. It's
the deal I made."
Willow nodded, knowing this as well, but Giles and Dawn looked at her
in puzzlement. "Deal? What do you mean, Buffy?" Giles asked.
She leaned back thoughtfully, then shook her head in amazement. "I'll
tell ya, but I don't know if you'll believe it..."
****
Tara waved good-bye to her friends as they drove off, shuffling her
bags to one hand to wave and then back again. She had missed Willow's
presence today, but it felt good to connect to other people and escape
Sunnydale for awhile.
It was while climbing the steps that something seemed off. The sound of
voices, many voices came from the house, the excitement obvious.
Xander, Anya, Dawn, Giles, Willow and Buffy...there was something going
on, something big.
And then a sickening feeling settled into her stomach, and she ran the
rest of the way, trepidation giving way to a horrible certainty as she
saw the expressions on everyone's face.
"Buffy...?"
"Tara!" Buffy came over and hugged her. "I remember you, now.
It's...amazing. So much has changed, but in a lot of ways it's still
the same. I never thought I'd ever get my memory back, though, and it's
all thanks to Willow."
Tara looked at Willow, who instantly looked guilty. But it wasn't the
sort of guilt that would lead to honest repentance--it was an "oops,
you caught me!" look, which meant she wasn't really feeling bad about
what she'd done...only that she'd gotten caught.
With more reserve and calm than she felt, Tara asked her lover, "What
did you do?"
Maybe something in her voice showed it, because suddenly the room
stilled. Willow shuffled and fiddled with a crocheted doily on the
sofa. "I did a spell...like the one to get Buffy out of that coma. But
hey, we found out that it was Buffy's choice to come back to the
living, so no more worrying there. Losing her memories was the price
she paid to come back--but now, she has them again. Well, mostly."
"Willow, don't you realize how dangerous that was? What if something
went wrong?" She looked to Giles for help, knowing that he was aware of
the risks.
He fumbled a bit, stuck between the truth of Tara's words and Willow's
results. "Tara, I agree with you that what Willow did was extremely
dangerous, not only to herself, but to Buffy as well. I can't say I
would have condoned this if she'd come to me first about this. However,
I was here with her for most of the time, and was prepared to intercede
if necessary. Her abilities are far beyond mine, though, and she was
able to do the task without any resulting harm."
Tara shook her head in disbelief. "That's not the point. I know you
guys are used to danger, used to having to risk your lives to save the
world. But it doesn't mean that those risks should always be taken.
Buffy was alive...and I'm sorry, but risking both of your lives in
exchange for returning those memories, I just don't get it. And it
worries me, Willow, that you're not understanding the danger involved,
here."
Suddenly, the meaning of what she'd said sunk in, and the general mood
lowered significantly. With that said, and Willow staying silent, Tara
turned to Buffy and smiled genuinely. "I'm glad you have your memories
back, if it's made you this happy. It couldn't have been easy for you."
Buffy's smiled faltered. "It wasn't. And in a way, I miss not being
able to recall the bad things, but it's better now. It's better," she
repeated, as if to reassure herself it was true.
~**~**~
Chapter Seven
~**~**~
Whatever experience Willow had in Buffy's mind previously, it did not
reoccur here. In fact, the two events were as separate as they could
be.
First off, Willow didn't expect the time and effort it took just to
find the memory center of Buffy's brain. Since her mind had been in a
loop before, there wasn't any way she could get lost. Here, it was a
different story altogether. It was only after she hit upon the idea of
finding a stray memory of hers, and tracking it to its source, that she
found what she'd been searching for.
The area was dark and cave-like, filled with nebulous strands of blue-
silver light that dangled from one surface and drifted, unattached on
the other end, reminding Willow of the sway of sea anemones in the
ocean current. Curious, she reached out and touched one of the strands,
and the jolt of a memory that wasn't hers filled her consciousness...
...Playing in the sandbox with unknown children, and complaining about
the lack of shovels to go around...
Her hand pulled away, and the memory faded. She followed it to the end,
which looked almost as if it had been cut perfectly across. Where did
this end go? Did it connect to the surface, or to another strand?
Testing out a method, Willow took the end and touched it to the wall
surface. Gradually, the light bled into the dark, attaching itself as
if coming back from a long journey away.
Willow smiled in triumph, but that smile faded as she regarded the
hundreds--no, thousands--of strands left to be reattached.
"One down, many *many* more to go," she sighed, and reached for the
next tendril of memory.
****
When Giles, he appraised the situation with the keenest of attention,
then did what he did best; he fretted.
"Why did that fool girl go and try something like this, without at
least consulting someone else?"
"Well, she did it before without telling anyone," Dawn tried, but he
was not in a mood to be soothed.
"Which was *not* the wisest thing she could have done. Yes, it worked
in the end, but that was a desperate situation. This wasn't desperate,
or even urgent. She's risking her life, and Buffy's, unnecessarily."
Dawn looked back to the unmoving pair, then back to Giles. "What do you
mean? This isn't safe?"
Giles took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "When Buffy was
comatose, the threat wasn't as dire. Most of her brain functions had
been funneled into a loop. If Willow had been weaker, she might have
been trapped in that loop. In this case there is no loop, and she could
very well get lost if she doesn't focus on what she's doing."
"Can't we just, y'know, shake her so she wakes up?"
"Without knowing where she is in Buffy's brain, or what she's doing? I
wouldn't advise it. I would consider it as our last option, if all else
fails."
Dawn sighed and looked at the clock. It had been an hour. How many more
would go by before they came back?
As if Giles could read her thoughts, he said, "They could be like this
for hours, Dawn. If you have somewhere to be, I can stay with them."
"No, that's okay. I was wondering...when is it too long? For the
trance, I mean?"
Giles grimaced. "It's hard to say. I can't even guess at Willow's
strength, and it might three or four hours before they emerge. She
won't leave until she's managed to accomplish her goal, or made sure
every effort has been tried." He laid a comforting hand on Dawn's
shoulder. "Willow will do everything in her power to restore Buffy's
memory. If she's continued to grow in her abilities since I left, then
I have few doubts she'll come back empty-handed."
Somehow, that didn't comfort Dawn as much as she would've liked.
****
For every fifty Willow reconnected, it felt like a hundred more
appeared. She knew it didn't work that way, that there had to be an end
to the number of strands, but at the moment it didn't feel like it. And
it didn't look like it, either.
Ever so often, she caught a glimpse of some sort of light, hazy and
indistinct. It would weave through the strands as if trying to figure
out what to do, then disappear. After a while it would reappear and do
it all over again, as if caught in a never-ending loop. With time, she
learned to ignore it and continue on, since it appear to be either
helping or hurting. And as she progressed, the jolt of a foreign memory
unnerved her less and less. Soon, she learned how to ignore it as well,
letting the memories wash over her without truly absorbing it.
There were times where she couldn't help taking a peek, though. Buffy
had memories of things she'd never experienced, and curiosity took hold
of her. It was strange to see different memories of events they'd
shared. Conversations were slightly altered, outcomes shifted, but to
Willow's surprise, in the end very little had changed. In an odd way,
it was a comfort to know things hadn't been heavily tweaked...aside
from the insertion of a younger sister, of course.
However, when she peeked into a moment of happiness she shouldn't have,
she instantly swore off her voyeuristic tendencies and ended up
blushing every time she ran across a memory containing Angel.
In the process of her task, Willow had no concept of time, only the
goal of restoring her friend's remembrance of the past. Fatigue wore
her down bit by bit, miniscule at first, then it became noticeable as
her work continued. It didn't deter her--she figured this would happen,
eventually. The important thing was to make sure she finished before
she became too tired out to withdraw from Buffy's mind.
The temporary worry drifted away as she consumed herself in her task,
forgetting her concerns as her friend took first priority.
****
Three hours passed, then four, then five. Worry became a quaint term as
both Dawn and Giles felt the tendrils of fear grip them with every
passing minute. Absolutely nothing had happened, and Giles almost
wished something would happen--even if it was bad--just so he could do
something other than watch.
He laughed inwardly at the thought. Rupert Giles, a Watcher by trade,
who desperately wanted to do anything but. It would be pathetic if it
wasn't so funny.
Buffy's sister was up in her room, no longer able to wait patiently in
the living room. Seeing her distress, he had given her permission to
leave Buffy and Willow's side for a while, assuring her that he would
call for her if anything occurred. She'd smiled in gratitude, and as
she had climbed the stairs, the nostalgia of a weary adulthood made him
miss the freedom from responsibility that came with youth. If only
someone could tell him things would be all right, in the end...
A soft groan came from Willow, and his whole attention came awake and
focused on the young witch, all senses searching for signs of seizure,
the typical result of fatigue of this sort.
"Dawn!" He called out, and immediately the door opened and he could
hear her hurried footsteps coming closer. Willow hadn't done or said
anything more, but he couldn't take the chance of dropping his guard
now. Not if he hoped to make sure the two girls came out of this alive.
****
It was getting hard to focus, Willow realized as she attached another
strand to the wall. There were only a few ones left, and thankfully not
all the strands in this chamber had been disconnected. She was
intensely curious to find out which ones they were, but after her
debacle with the Angel memory, she thought it best to leave it alone.
All of those remaining were of the last few days before the fight with
Glory, unpleasant memories that Willow didn't relish going through
again. Still, it was interesting to learn how Buffy and Spike had
gotten the RV, and a smile rose unbidden on her face when she noted
that the Thompsons' had involuntarily helped Buffy out of a sticky
situation twice. Good thing she'd told Buffy to leave cash in place of
the note, when she'd gone back to return the clothes.
Lethargically, she reconnected the remaining ones, until only two were
left. Her mind distantly wondered what they could be, and in a move she
wouldn't have done if she hadn't been so tired, grabbed both at the
same time.
Both memories fought for dominance, and she pushed against the
intrusion into her mind. Fear seized her as she only now realized what
one of the memories contained. Willow placed the strand against the
wall, but it was too late.
Her body was falling, but it was Buffy's body, heading into the blue-
white ball of energy that was the portal. And then she stopped in the
portal's grip, pain lacing intricate patterns throughout her body,
causing muscles to spasm and convulse.
****
Willow's scream made Dawn and Giles jump, and they ran to her side as
she began to writhe, as if in a seizure. Giles's expression darkened
and he held on to Willow's arm as he prepared himself enter into the
same sort of trance, intent on bringing her out despite the enormous
risk to himself.
Then the spasms tapered off into nothing, and Willow sagged in the
chair, still unconscious.
"Giles, what happened? Is she okay?"
"I-I think so," he replied, wiping his brow with a shaking hand.
Whatever had happened, it wasn't the result of fatigue. Willow's heart
continued to beat, and she was still immersed in the spell.
Then he added softly, "God, I wish I knew what was happening."
****
The memory faded, leaving Willow exhausted from the experience. With
the ordeal over, the other memory slipped in as she weakly moved the
strand into position against the wall, and watched as it absorbed into
the wall, attaching itself with a certain resoluteness. The last memory
overtook Willow's mind, and she let this one wash over her, unable to
stop it and curious to know what else remained.
...Buffy found herself floating. The whiteness of her surroundings
should have blinded her, but instead she was able to look around
without the mildest squint, amazed and unafraid. Doors stood around her
in retreating circles in the white nothing, all looking as if they had
been there for ages. All were different in shape, and made of various
materials--the ones of precious metals, wood, and bone she could easily
identify. The others, she wasn't sure she wanted to find out.
"Which one should I try? Door number one, door number two, or door
number twenty-five...?" She asked out loud, not expecting an answer.
She got one, anyway.
*These doors are not for you, Slayer.*
Buffy waited for the echoes to recede. "Would the mystery voice please
identify yourself? Or do I have to do another game show reference,
here?"
*We are what We are. We have been since the beginning of Time. We will
continue to be even when stars have faded to nothingness.*
"Pretentious much? Unless, of course, you're the Powers That...oh."
*We see that you still have the trappings of your mortal self. In time,
this will pass.*
Buffy circled around, still unable to spot anyone, not even a tall
curtain with suspicious movement coming from behind. "O-kay. I get it.
I'm dead. Took me awhile, but I can't say I'm surprised. I guess I
kinda thought the afterlife would be a little more..." she searched the
bareness of the white infinity, "...accessorized?"
*This is only a transition point. The nature of your death was
atypical--your essence, or soul, was divided among several realities.
Realities that these doors represent. We collected those pieces and
reformed them here, at the Nexus.*
Meaning her world was behind one of these doors. Buffy looked down at
herself, nonplused at finding a solid body instead of an ethereal one.
"So, what's with the body? It's not real, is it?"
*Reality is subjective. Here, it is real. Elsewhere, it would be
intangible.* If Buffy didn't know better, she'd think the Voice was
getting a bit exasperated. *Now that you are whole, you are ready to
continue your journey.*
"Journey? And I didn't even bring my toothbrush," Buffy quipped.
The pause was infinitesimal, but she visualized an elderly man in white
robes pinching the bridge of his nose, much as Giles would do. *It's
time. Just walk through the doorway behind you, and you will be
transported to your final destination.*
She spun to find an oval of swirling color behind her, opalescent on
its surface. "Could...could I see my friends and my sister before I go?
Just one last time?"
*They are not of your concern...*
"The hell they aren't! Oh, um, sorry," she wrung her hands, distraught.
"It's just...I sacrificed myself to save them all, and it would give me
a lot of peace of mind, er, soul, to know they're fine. Please?"
Another pause, and the Voice replied, *You may have one last look, by
Our divine benevolence.* A paneled door made of some dark wood opened
to her left, and she walked over to view what was beyond.
The views kept changing, shifting...subdivisions and cities flashed
before her, then farmland and mountainous terrain, then back to
civilization in a random fashion. Slowly, the flashes became more
specific--Buffy recognized Los Angeles, then the outskirts of
Sunnydale, and then she was seeing her house at dusk, looking alone and
bereft in the last gasps of day.
*The stream of Time is different at the Nexus than elsewhere, and it
has continued to flow while We were reconstructing your soul. The time
you are seeing is later than when you left your realm.*
"How long?"
*Fourteen of your realm's days have passed.*
Two weeks. Buffy closed her eyes, hoping that she was strong enough to
see the aftermath of her death. "Show me my sister."
The view changed, and now Buffy was seeing the insides of her sister's
room. Dawn was on her bed, staring up at the ceiling with a faraway
dead look in her eyes. The sight sent shivers down Buffy's back.
"Show me my friend Giles," she asked thickly, and the picture changed
again to show her house's family room. He sat on the couch with a
similar look in his eyes, but she couldn't hear what he was saying to
Willow and Tara. They stood side by side facing him, their faces
conveying shock.
"Turn up the volume, would ya?"
*You asked for visual confirmation, not auditory.*
"Well, I'm asking *now*, okay? Please?"
After a moment, Giles' words came filtering in, sounding a million
miles away. "...they still haven't turned up any leads on his
whereabouts. I'm afraid they won't, either."
"But Giles, how could he do this? He's her father, for crying out
loud," Willow said, her own expression bleak despite the anger in her
voice.
"Well, he had no reason to believe anything would go wrong, let alone
that Joyce and Buffy would die--it's not a defense of the poncy bugger,
though, I assure you. But as far as we know, he has no idea what's
happened. I have to say, his timing couldn't have been worse."
Tara nodded in sad agreement. "The company didn't say how much money he
stole, did they?"
"No, but Angel seems to think it was around a million dollars--whatever
his pension with the company would have been if they hadn't laid him
off. He apparently felt he was justified in taking the money."
Buffy's heart sank. Her father had stole money, then skipped the
country? No wonder the number in Spain was no good. And Dawn...Buffy
had thought--no, she'd hoped--that their father would reappear after
she died, but that didn't seem likely to happen now.
At least Dawn had the gang--even Spike, if the vampire hadn't already
fled past the city limits. "Show me Xander, please," she asked, her
voice weak, but it was only a shadow of how she felt.
He was in the graveyard, with Anya by his side. Both had stakes poised
and ready, obviously patrolling in her absence. She smiled in
gratitude, proud of her friends even in her anxiousness for their
safety, but it seemed everything was all right, here...
...Then she glimpsed the figures hiding in the shadows, and amended her
statement.
The fight was horrible to watch. Her friends took more blows than they
gave out, and it looked like the vampires were winning when a black-
clad blur descended on the group, turning one into ash followed closely
by another. Buffy knew it was Spike before she even saw him clearly,
and the relief she felt at seeing him battled with the knowledge that
he was still a member of the undead. That he had stayed to fight after
her death was the tie-breaker, and she felt overwhelmed with gratitude
for Spike's efforts to keep her friends safe.
The vamps who weren't smart enough to flee from the group ended up as
dust. Buffy's sense of satisfaction came back as she realized her
friends were victorious. However, what they were saying wasn't
comforting in the slightest.
"How many was that, now? Ten?" Anya asked as Xander helped her up from
the ground.
"Nine, I think. I kind of stopped counting after my skull connected
with that tombstone over there," Xander replied, gingerly touching a
red spot on his temple.
"It's Buffy's grave they're after. I've been doing my best to keep 'em
away, but once word spread that the Slayer was gone, Sunnydale's turned
into sodding Miami Beach during Spring Break." Buffy noticed Spike was
clutching his side, but her concern was dampened by the meaning of his
words. Her death had saved reality from coming apart, but now it was
affecting life in a way she'd never anticipated.
"But it'll die down after awhile...right?" Anya asked hopefully.
Spike shrugged, then winced from the movement. "Dunno. Vamps that would
normally shy away from here due to the threat of the Slayer are pouring
in, and the name of Spike is doing bugger all to keep them away. The
Slayer's a legend, and Buffy..." He ducked his head and visibly
swallowed, before continuing. "She made her own legends."
Buffy was surprised at how much it hurt to see Spike's grief. And now
that she was watching, his eyes were the same as Dawn and Giles--
hollowed and bleak. As if nothing could possibly cause him more pain
than what he was already suffering.
She had told Dawn to live, to tell her friends to live on for her;
she'd never meant for them to fight for their lives after she was gone.
In a small part of her mind, she wept at her lack of foresight. The
world needed a Slayer, and clearly Faith wasn't in the running, thanks
to her prison sentence. With two weeks already gone by, it appeared her
death hadn't called another Slayer, either.
The view stayed with the group as they walked, or limped, away from the
area, but it didn't register with Buffy--she was already trying to
solve the problem. "I can't just let this happen. These are my
friends..."
*You have earned rest, Slayer. The concerns of mortals are beyond your
worries, now.*
"But they need my help! And, and there's no Slayer to defend the
Hellmouth...that's tipping the scales way off, wouldn't you say? I
mean, you guys are into the whole balance thing, right? I have to go
back."
*That is not possible.*
"Not possible? For you? I don't think so. You can wave a hand, or
whatever you have, and send me back home, good as new."
*You are correct in saying a balance needs to be maintained. However,
even We cannot go against the natural order unless a sacrifice is
made.*
"Great. More sacrifice," Buffy replied under her breath. "So, what do
you mean, like a human one?"
The Voice ignored the question. *As in magic, a price is paid for
changing order and bending it to the caster's will. We are beyond
magic, but the payment is still necessary. We could not remove the one
you know as Angel from the hell dimension he opened until 100 years had
passed in that realm.*
"So, again, what do I need to do--or sacrifice--in order to go back?
I'm already dead, so that's kinda blown..."
*What would you offer?*
Now that took her by surprise. She had nothing to offer them, nothing
that she didn't need after she got back home. She'd give them her soul,
but it wasn't a viable choice...she'd need it if she didn't want to be
a zombie, or possibly even a vampire. The only other thing she could
think of that she possessed were her memories.
But before she went that far, she asked the Voice something else. "How
much time would I have to spend here to make the payment for going
back? You said Angel had 100 years--with time off for good behavior I
could do maybe fifty? Or twenty-five?"
*Time means little, here. But in your realm, seventeen years would have
to pass in order to maintain balance.*
Okay, that wasn't going to work. She closed her eyes and quietly said,
"What if, what if I gave up my memories? How many of them would you
need in order for that balance thing to happen?"
The silence went on longer than she expected. What could she afford to
lose, and still be effective? What price would be good enough for them?
With some reluctance, she added, "How about...five, from when I first
started as a Slayer. Would that make it even?"
*With the removal of the implanted memories, and a span of three months
in your realm...yes. It is acceptable.*
"Whoa, wait. Removal of implanted memories?"
*You have two sets of memories of your life, one overlaying the other.
If that false thread is removed from the rest of the true memories, it
will meet the requirement for balance and payment.*
The thought of losing those moments with Dawn made her heart heavy, but
in the end, she chose to accept the bargain. It would be better to be
there for her and not remember, than to be absent and still have those
memories. And if nothing else, at least she wouldn't remember her
mother's death, or sending Angel to hell, or any of the other things
from the past five years that made her long for a normal life. Besides,
maybe it would be for the best...even if she couldn't see how, just
yet.
After a period of time that Buffy was unable to gauge, she was told to
jump through the portal as scenes from Sunnydale went by...
...and she landed on the ground in a crouch, naked, terrified and
unable to remember anything beyond her last day as a regular girl, as
agreed upon in a forgotten transaction.
****
Willow opened her eyes wearily, her body stiff and sore from lack of
movement. Giles was right by her side, looking worried and relieved at
the same time. If he was here, then...then it had been more than three
hours. Squinting at the light from the encroaching sunset, her mind
caught up and figured out it had been at least five, if not more.
"Buffy, is she...?" Willow asked, coming fully around. Just then, her
friend blinked and looked around, disoriented and troubled. Dawn wrung
her hands and approached her sister cautiously, afraid the spell had
only succeeded in obliterating the memories that remained.
Buffy focused on the girl, then smiled. "Dawn! Oh God, I remember..."
she jumped up and hugged her sister, "I remember."
"Everything?" Dawn asked hopefully, and Buffy concentrated for a
second, then shook her head.
"The implanted memories are still gone. But I remember everything from
last year, and I think...some of the others, from when I thought back
on them. It's more of a dream-like memory, though. They're hard to pin
down."
Willow smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I tried. They just weren't
there."
The blonde woman slumped back into the couch, feeling oddly lighter and
heavier at the same time. "I know. I remember now why they aren't. It's
the deal I made."
Willow nodded, knowing this as well, but Giles and Dawn looked at her
in puzzlement. "Deal? What do you mean, Buffy?" Giles asked.
She leaned back thoughtfully, then shook her head in amazement. "I'll
tell ya, but I don't know if you'll believe it..."
****
Tara waved good-bye to her friends as they drove off, shuffling her
bags to one hand to wave and then back again. She had missed Willow's
presence today, but it felt good to connect to other people and escape
Sunnydale for awhile.
It was while climbing the steps that something seemed off. The sound of
voices, many voices came from the house, the excitement obvious.
Xander, Anya, Dawn, Giles, Willow and Buffy...there was something going
on, something big.
And then a sickening feeling settled into her stomach, and she ran the
rest of the way, trepidation giving way to a horrible certainty as she
saw the expressions on everyone's face.
"Buffy...?"
"Tara!" Buffy came over and hugged her. "I remember you, now.
It's...amazing. So much has changed, but in a lot of ways it's still
the same. I never thought I'd ever get my memory back, though, and it's
all thanks to Willow."
Tara looked at Willow, who instantly looked guilty. But it wasn't the
sort of guilt that would lead to honest repentance--it was an "oops,
you caught me!" look, which meant she wasn't really feeling bad about
what she'd done...only that she'd gotten caught.
With more reserve and calm than she felt, Tara asked her lover, "What
did you do?"
Maybe something in her voice showed it, because suddenly the room
stilled. Willow shuffled and fiddled with a crocheted doily on the
sofa. "I did a spell...like the one to get Buffy out of that coma. But
hey, we found out that it was Buffy's choice to come back to the
living, so no more worrying there. Losing her memories was the price
she paid to come back--but now, she has them again. Well, mostly."
"Willow, don't you realize how dangerous that was? What if something
went wrong?" She looked to Giles for help, knowing that he was aware of
the risks.
He fumbled a bit, stuck between the truth of Tara's words and Willow's
results. "Tara, I agree with you that what Willow did was extremely
dangerous, not only to herself, but to Buffy as well. I can't say I
would have condoned this if she'd come to me first about this. However,
I was here with her for most of the time, and was prepared to intercede
if necessary. Her abilities are far beyond mine, though, and she was
able to do the task without any resulting harm."
Tara shook her head in disbelief. "That's not the point. I know you
guys are used to danger, used to having to risk your lives to save the
world. But it doesn't mean that those risks should always be taken.
Buffy was alive...and I'm sorry, but risking both of your lives in
exchange for returning those memories, I just don't get it. And it
worries me, Willow, that you're not understanding the danger involved,
here."
Suddenly, the meaning of what she'd said sunk in, and the general mood
lowered significantly. With that said, and Willow staying silent, Tara
turned to Buffy and smiled genuinely. "I'm glad you have your memories
back, if it's made you this happy. It couldn't have been easy for you."
Buffy's smiled faltered. "It wasn't. And in a way, I miss not being
able to recall the bad things, but it's better now. It's better," she
repeated, as if to reassure herself it was true.