Los Angeles.

"I'm thinking that maybe we should get going." Gunn said about him and the Host to the others. "Buffy don't got much to do with us, and I think I detect a little brooding coming on from vamp dude over there." He said, tilting his head in Angel's direction.

"Uh-huh. Good idea." Cordelia said, completely shocked by the information Willow was just giving them.

No, no, no. This can't be. Angel kept telling himself. He didn't think he'd ever been in this much pain. Including when Buffy had sent him to Hell for trying to send the world to it. Buffy, he thought again, the pain becoming almost unbearable, I wish I could've been there for you. And he did. With every molecule of his being, to the depths of his soul, and the bottom of his heart, he wished he could have been there. Done something to help her. He didn't even hear most of what Willow was saying. All he heard was the last part.



"Just last night." Willow concluded.

Cordelia snapped out of shock-mode and chimed in, "But, Buffy can't die," pausing, thinking about what she had just said, she amended herself. "Well, technically she can, but she's like, super-strong slay-gal. Like, unbeatable slay-gal. How did she end up six feet under?" So to speak.

Willow had the answer to her question. "She did it to save Dawn."

Dawn, Angel thought, way far gone by now, Buffy sacrificed herself for Dawn. Why does it seem like she did so in vain?

Willow continued to tell of Buffy's death. "Dawn was the key to alternate dimensions, meaning that her blood could open the gates between earth and every single hell there is. Meaning also, that only Dawn's blood could close those gates. Buffy figured that since Dawn, physically, was made from her blood, she would be able to close the gates, allowing Dawn to live."

Now it was Wesley's turn to speak. "You mean, Buffy died so that Dawn might live?"

"Yes," Willow agreed, "but there's a catch. You see the monks, the ones who brought Dawn to Buffy, were thought to be dead. Buffy had seen the last one die. But there were two left. Two that hid from Glory in hopes to stop her, but were both too cowardly." Willow paused. "Yet they still had magick. Sorcery, whatever you want to call it, but they took Dawn away, and are working at erasing her from our memories." She turned in Angel's direction "You might seem to forget a lot of things from when Dawn was around. Am I right?"

Finally, Angel came around. "Yeah, I...kind of...it's hazy...I think I should...I'm just gonna go..." he made no attempt to hide the emotion in his voice as he faltered, and walked upstairs.

No one stopped him. Of all people, Angel was probably the one who was hurt the most by all of this. Willow could see in his eyes that he still loved Buffy, and his concern, and the way he dealt, or didn't deal with her death, proved it. Willow decided to leave them alone. "I should really get going. It's late, and Giles is on full alert now...very overprotective about us all, now that..." she shook out of it, "Well, I should go. If you have any questions-"

Wesley cut her off. "We'll give you a ring." He managed a fake, 'everything's not fine, but I'm trying to give an optimistic perspective,' smile. As he watched the slayer's redheaded best friend walk out the door.

"I think we should probably leave Angel alone for a while. If he does decide to deal, trust me, he'll do so on his own time." Cordelia said and walked out, very much saddened.

"Yes, you're most likely right." Wesley replied and shut off the lights as he left.



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Angel lie in his bed. He felt completely empty and alone. Buffy was a part of him, a huge part of his heart that could only ever be filled by her, and in dying, she took that part with her, never to return it. Oh Buffy, why did you have to always put your heart first? It was one of the things he loved about Buffy, one of the oh-so-many things he loved about her, but it was also a flaw for a slayer. Love, he thought, she did it out of love. And then came the memories. Angel was awash in a sea of them. How it felt to be in Buffy's arms, to be wrapped in her warm, gentle embrace. He remembered how it felt to kiss her, her lips on his, tenderly, and yet also so passionately. He remembered the night they made love, how wonderful it had been. Her fingers traced the tattoo on his back, his lips caressing her face, softly tracing her cheekbones with the back of his hand. Loving her, losing himself in her, in her gentle touch, in her soul. He wished the night would go on forever. Another memory, of the first time he saw her. How beautiful she was. How happy she had seemed, gossiping with her friends. Before she became the slayer, her life was that of any normal 15- year-old. He saw flashes of when she dusted her first vampire, and he felt her emotion when her parents went through the divorce. But it doesn't matter now, he thought. She's gone, and she's never going to come back. As the realization finally hit him, he wept. He wept long and heartfelt tears of sadness over losing his beloved Buffy. And yet, a part of him still believed that she would just come back, and give him a call. Tell him everything was right again, and that she was fine. He knew it would never happen, but he could hope.



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Sunnydale.

"Brother Jacques?" said a voice from the shadows questioning who was there.

"Yes, Brother Zachary, it is me." announced another voice from the center of the room.

They were in an old abandoned factory that had been used long ago by some vampires, but of which were now long gone. The place was empty. Quiet, deserted, and filled with the presence of death. Brother Zachary didn't like it one bit. But Brother Jacques was his superior, and though there were only the two of them left of the Monks of Versilla, Brother Zachary believed in the code of the Monks, which meant he had to do what his superiors asked of him. "Brother Jacques, do you think, that since we took away the Key and destroyed it and the Slayer's friends' memories of it, that maybe they deserve compensation for it?" he asked in a manor that made Brother Jacques become very curious.

"Like what, exactly, do you mean, Brother Zachary?" Brother Jacques asked dangerously.

Brother Zachary cringed. He didn't like it when Brother Jacques used that questioning, but dangerous tone he used when he didn't want to play games. "Well, brother, I was thinking maybe we could bring back that which they have cherished so dearly, yet lost?"

Brother Jacques thought for a moment about this, but then cam to a conclusion. "My brother, you know that we cannot resurrect that which has been lost. Only They, the Powers That Be, can meddle with things as great as that."

"You are right, my brother. I do not know what I had been thinking. I know that we are not powerful enough to perform that kind of task," Brother Zachary continued, "but I just thought we owed a debt to them, being as we were the ones who brought this tragedy upon them." He concluded sadly.

"We did not know what the outcome of the battle was going to be!" Brother Jacques was enraged; "we merely followed the instructions given to us by Them! So therefore, we will leave it to Them to fix things!" He yelled.

"You are right, my brother. As always, you are right." Brother Zachary said, but his words had a sort of finality to them, as if They weren't going to fix things, and he felt utterly hopeless. There was nothing that Brother Zachary could do to help.



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Willow was wandering through the graveyard, not knowing why. There's something I'm supposed to find out, she thought, but she didn't know what it was. As she passed the headstones, she walked by several that she would rather not have seen. The first one she saw was of Jesse, Willow's and Xander's friend from high school who died at the hands of the Master and Darla, only to come back again as a vampire. Willow knew his body was not in his grave, yet she liked to believe that his soul, at least, had a final resting place somewhere nice. Jesse deserved it, he really did. When he was alive, he had been one of the nicest people Willow knew. The next grave she passed was Jenny Calendar's. Miss Calendar had been the Scooby Gang's teacher and friend, and was a technopagan. She died at the hands of Angel, who at the time was Angelus, while she was trying to give him back his soul. However, Angelus didn't sire her. He just snapped her neck in two like it was a dry twig. Willow quickly moved on. She didn't want to think about that right now. Thinking of Angel made her think of Buffy, and she didn't want to think of Buffy. She really didn't think she had any tears left in her. Another of the graves she saw was Harmony's, but Willow knew that Harmony's grave was empty. She was now a member of the living dead. Or would 'walking dead' be more appropriate? Willow wondered. Oh well, all that mattered was, well, actually nothing about Harmony really mattered to Willow. She hated Harmony with a passion, but couldn't help feeling sorry for the girl, seeing as she was sired by Spike. The last grave Willow passed was Mrs. Summers' grave. She was actually glad that Mrs. Summers wasn't alive to see her daughter die. It would have been extremely hard for her. Most likely it would be harder for her than it was for Buffy when her mother died. Willow cringed at what she knew she would see next, and she wanted to turn around and go back. She memorized the exact spot of her best friend's grave, and tried not to pass it when she went patrolling with the others. It was just too painful for her. But somehow, she couldn't turn. She could only move forward, and she couldn't stop either. It was as if something was pulling her. As if she had to see this, perhaps to let go? Willow wasn't sure, but when she reached the spot where Buffy's grave was supposed to be, she saw nothing. Well, not nothing, but there wasn't a headstone, and the ground looked unearthed, as if it had never felt the touch of a shovel. Willow looked around, confused, and then heard a familiar voice, and nearly burst into tears of joy and bewilderment.

"Hey Will. What are you doing here? I thought I told you not to go patrolling alone?"

"B...Bu...Buffy? But you're supposed to be..."

"Dead, I know, but lying underground for days with no one to talk to just gets kind of boring." She said, matter-of-factly.

Willow couldn't get her mouth to work. She could only stand there, eyes wide in shock. Or maybe it was sheer disbelief, but either way, she couldn't move.

"Willow, I just want you to know something. You're my best friend in the entire world, and I also want you to know that I have more determination than anyone you'll ever know, and I..."

Willow finally got her lips to move and finished Buffy's sentence for her. "...Will do all that you can to get back to us, right?"

"Yeah." Buffy managed a forced smile. Kind of like she knew there was no returning to her friends. Like she knew she wasn't going to ever live again. A tear trickled down her cheek as she said, "Goodbye Willow." And walked off into the shadows.

"Goodbye Buffy." Willow said sadly, tears running freely down her cheeks.

"Willow?" A voice called from somewhere far off.

"WILLOW!" The voice called again.

"What is it?" Willow asked angrily, and then noticed that she was back in her and Tara's dorm room, in her own bed, with tears still running down her face. "Oh, sorry Tara. I didn't mean to snap at you, I just, I guess I didn't realize...oh, I don't know."

"Did you have another dream about Buffy?" Tara asked gently.

"Yeah," Willow replied, "But Tara, it felt so real! She was there. I could feel her presence. She was right there talking to me, and then, just like that, she was gone." She burst out crying for about the billionth time since Buffy's death.

"Shhh. It's okay Willow." Tara tried to comfort her, but she knew it wasn't any help. Buffy had been Willow's best friend, and she left a little gap in Willow's heart that no one would be able to fill, not even Tara. She knew this because, even with the short time she'd had to get to know her, Buffy had left the smallest gap in even Tara's heart. She held a special place in the Scoobie gang, and no one would ever be able to bring the spark that she added to the group back.

"Tara, I'm sorry," Willow said in between sobs, "But I really need to be alone right now."

"I understand." Tara said. And she did. She understood exactly. She just wished there was something she could do about it to make Willow feel better. She left the room, leaving Willow there by herself in tears.

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