I return to Buffy at the apartment as she puts on her jacket. Anya is looking through the cabinets in the tiny kitchenette for something to eat.
"The back burner is the only one that works on the stove," Buffy is explaining to Anya.
"What about the microwave?" Anya asks as she looks at it doubtfully. "It doesn't leak harmful radiation that can damage magical things, does it?"
"Not that I've noticed," Buffy said rising an eyebrow. "Is that a big problem? Giles had one at the Magic Box. I think he only used it for making tea."
"No, I used it," Anya snorts. "Giles always said it made his tea taste wrong."
"Could he help us?" I blurt out. "I mean with the Hellmouth and, you know, the research."
"The Watchers pretty much said you touch it, we'll break it," Buffy said resignedly.
"And I didn't part on the best terms with him," Anya admitted quietly. Then she looked up at me with bright eyes. "You could go to him and no one would know."
"I didn't get a protective spell made for him before he left," I admit, ashamed that I let a man who was more father to me than my own go without protection. "And besides, since the box attacked Anya I can't get back there."
"Can you track him through me?" Buffy asks.
"I'll try," I promise.
Shutting my eyes and thinking of Giles makes a tiny spark, and it grows with thinking about Giles and Buffy. Anya and Giles and Buffy make it almost strong enough to track back to, but not quite. I open my eyes and see Anya holding Buffy's hand, both of them with their eyes closed.
"It's almost there but I can't quite find him, I'm sorry," I tell them as I hang my head.
"We'll add Dawn tomorrow night," Buffy decides. "Maybe it will help. That was more witch fu than you thought you could do."
I think I blushed as I nodded and smiled at her. Then I noticed the clock radio and the time.
"You're going to be late to the flower stand if you don't hurry," I say as Buffy looks at the clock.
"Flowers," Buffy says quietly, and then she shakes her head. "You go see what Miss Grey has selected for tonight's main feature."
Buffy pulls on her jacket and hat, then turns to me with a quizzical expression.
"When did I start the flower thing?" Buffy asks quietly.
"Just after Willow's funeral," I manage to get out before I flee.
I find Miss Grey in comfortable lounging wear. She's pacing, trying to make her laptop work. Then she presses her hand on it and it glows. She snarls something about resetting. She seems to blame the computer and not hackers, and I sag with relief until she pulls out her golden grisly focus and sniffs it. She seems unsure but taps it against a box. The box opens and one of the scaled things that killed Spike springs into existence. I can hear a cacophony of screeching noise as the lid is returned.
It waits for her to speak, and then it disappears. On the chess board one pawn and the black queen move. I go to Buffy, but as I get close I can see the creature arriving behind her. I call out a warning. She leaps the beast and cuts it in its charge past her. She is ruthless but it's not a fair fight. It recovers swiftly and is swinging thin razor sharp claws at her neck.
It's driving her back when I see an open grave. I call out the location and Buffy steps back and retreats until she's on the edge, then she kicks dirt up in the thing's face and jumps over the hole. The thing falls into the empty grave and Buffy brings the axe down on its head. It doesn't recover from a split skull, especially when she hits it again just to make sure. It crumbles into dust. Buffy staggers off, the picture of exhaustion; I compliment her but she doesn't answer. I start to worry when I hear the faintest noise behind me. I duck out of her way by reflex as Buffy blurs the axe through the neck of the vampire I had forgotten. After he dusts she straightens up, favoring her right shoulder but otherwise okay.
"Time for ice cream, chocolate I think," Buffy says confidently.
"Oh God, I miss chocolate," I say before I even think.
"I should just go home," Buffy says with mock seriousness. "Too much ice cream makes a slow Slayer."
"You haven't had any for three months at least," I point out. "Anya hasn't had any for months either."
"My spirit guide is going to make me fat," Buffy scowls as she turns to walk to the store.
"Your spirit guide is going to get you locked up if you keep talking to someone who isn't here," I warn her gently.
"Three months, huh?" Buffy muses.
"Yeah, the giant snake thing with wings," I say shivering at the memory.
"That had to be a designer thing," Buffy says critically. "I mean, snake with wings and those colors, tell me ithose/i were natural. The acid venom was kind of neat in a dissolvy way."
"Eew!" I exclaim. Then I think of that night "It was really hot, and you had an ice cream bar and big pop," I say wistfully, then shiver at a memory "It nearly got you on the arm that last pass."
"No it didn't," She says defensively.
"Yes it did," I insist. "Remember that stain you thought was from the fry cooker?"
"That was acid?" Buffy asks. I nod. She glares off into the sky. "Someone could have let you tell me before I spent hours trying to get the stain out. It's not like I get a chance at that many jackets these days."
"Sorry," I say quickly.
"I'm just glad I have someone to talk to again," Buffy says quietly.
"Sorry if I ramble," I say hastily. "I got kind of, you know, filling up the emptiness with noise."
"There's a lot of that," Buffy said after a heartbeat.
The store is bright and light. No one takes any notice of her as she buys a box of chocolate ice cream bars. She eats one on the way home, enjoying it more than most things she has in the last few months. There's an actual spring in her step as she bounds up the stairs.
As her key goes in the lock I shift time and go to Anya. The roiling black clouds seem to be closer, more menacing I notice as I shift. Anya's just closing the door as I arrive. She takes a moment and yawns, then tries to understand the Ramen instructions. She's yawning, rubbing her forehead.
I walk her through the instructions and she heats it in the microwave. I wish I could feel the warmth in that bowl after those clouds.
"What clouds?" Anya asks.
I realize that I must have spoken out loud again. I forget that people, at least three people, can hear me now.
"You know," I start, uneasy talking about them, "The big clouds in the future when you travel in time."
"I don't see any clouds," Anya says with narrowing eyes.
"You don't?" I answer; surprised that she should miss them. "They're huge, full of something...angry and sad all at once."
Anya eats her soup and thinks. I just sit there for a while.
"Empathy," the demon says. "That's why you can see them."
"If I'm an empath why didn't I, I-" I can't finish the words as my failures leap back to me.
"Come back to Willow the day Spike and I ripped up everybody?" Anya makes it a bitter question. "You came home when Willow and Dawn were upset, Buffy and Xander were torn and the rest of your family' was, was..."
I want to reach out to her, I start to and she almost touches me, but stops. Her face shows how much she wants to feel less alone. I feel her pain and self-loathing.
"We weren't a very good family for you," Anya says bitterly.
"Better than what I had," I say quietly. "Much better."
We're both quiet for a second. Then she looks at me with her face set carefully.
"Did he suffer?" Anya asks neutrally.
"It was quick," I say as carefully as I can.
"He suffered," Anya says surely. "Tell me he didn't burn, or lay there slowly being crushed or-"
Her tear-streaked face is a mask now. She's trying to be strong but the grief has cast her features into a rigid expression of sorrow.
"He was shocked and scared for a moment," I start carefully, hating the memory. "When we swerved he never saw the truck. It hit us at an angle on his side. The damage w-was really bad and the car got tossed into the grass. He didn't wake up, just moaned once, no, twice. There was blood everywhere. Then h-h-he died."
"Thank you," Anya says with her last reserve of calm. "Excuse me."
She goes into the tiny bathroom and starts to come apart. I hear the key in the door. Buffy looks at me startled, then she looks behind her. Her head comes up when she hears the crying. She shuts and locks the door.
"She asked about Xander," I explain helplessly. "I can't-" I just gesture with my useless hands. Buffy nods sadly and heads for the bathroom. She stops just before she goes in and looks back at me.
"Did you see William too?" the Slayer asks as she opens the bathroom door.
"Grey did it," I say flatly. "She sent two of those things after him. I saw her release one tonight."
Buffy closes the bathroom door. They think it helps but it doesn't. I have proof that I have the curse of Empathy as they hold each other and mourn what might have been. It echoes in my soul.
Anya is slightly more composed now. Buffy is tight, pacing and angry. I just feel nervous. Buffy finally stops and looks composed.
"You put the whammy on her, and I cut off her head with an axe," the Slayer says with brittle composure. "Problem solved."
"She's pretty much unwhammyable, Buffy," Anya says flatly. "She's a senior adept mage. Imagine Willow's power and a lot more experience."
I wince at that thought. Anya doesn't notice.
"You're tired and angry, Buffy," I say as firmly as I can. "Unless you get sleep you're not going to be axing anybody."
"I can't sleep knowing she's out there," Buffy snaps.
"Yes, you can," I say slightly softer. "Let me help. Lay down and listen, both of you."
They are reluctant to comply but both of them do it. I softly guide them both through an old relaxing exercise. I hear soft snoring in a moment from Anya. Buffy is looking at me with a concerned look and motions me to the bathroom. There she finally speaks about what's troubling her.
"Tara," Buffy starts uncomfortably, "about Will and, uh,"
"Xander. I know," I say wearily. "I'm dead, Buffy. He loved her, and he gave me hope for a little while."
"The good girl answer," Buffy says with a small smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"
I hear the worry for me and my feelings in her tone. I never told Buffy I valued her protection, but her decency and compassion are the things most beautiful about her.
"The truth is I was lucky to get her, Buffy," I admit in the darkness. "Willow fell in love with a person, not their gender or any other label. Xander loved her; I know that. I couldn't be near them when they were together that way, but they needed something so much it hurt not to have them together. I loved him like a brother, well, not mine, but he saved the world and he loved her. I wish it was me, but I'm glad it was him."
"I just wanted to hear it from someone else," Buffy says gently, then yawns.
"Back to bed, or floor rather," I order with mock sternness. "Your soap bubble spirit guide commands you."
Buffy grumbles just a bit as she goes back to her makeshift bed but falls asleep quickly. I'm alone in the dark. I listen hard for the sound I dread. It seems to be loudest near Buffy. That makes sense, I think, since she was supposed to be the child born to the mourning woman.
It seems louder tonight. I feel a touch of the pain in that cry in my heart. It keeps me focused. I've cried out like that about the ones I watched, and I never want to do it again.
Morning comes in about a decade. It's like it was yesterday, only Anyanka doesn't have to change to Anya since she didn't change last night. I wonder about that and she reacts. I've got to watch this talking out loud.
"I've got it on power saving," Anya says. "If I don't manifest it saves a bit of power."
"Could it be giving me dreams about really creepy clouds?" Buffy asks groggily. "Stephen King clown type clouds."
"Black and churning?" I ask quickly. "They feel angry and sad."
"Yeah," Buffy says with a surprised and concerned look on her face.
"They're on the lines of the future," I try to explain. "They're close when I go between you three."
"It's emotions and not magic," Anya explains baldly. "She can see it, I can't."
"Future," Buffy says quietly. Then she looks at Anya. "Hellmouth meltdown in less than a hundred hours, right?"
"About four days," Anya says. "Early Sunday morning."
"Tara, she said she had how many nights left doing Slayer tests?" Buffy asks quickly.
"Four," I say grimly. "That was, um, Monday. Before the thing with a stinger."
"Thursday, so tomorrow is Grey's day to play the Queen of Hearts." Buffy says with a toss of her head and a cruel smile.
"Tara, go and see what our Miss Grey is doing right now," Buffy orders.
I go to her lair. I find a clump of writhing bodies with Miss Grey getting all the attention. Her tastes are exotic, but a tiny part of my mind insists her taste in girls is good. The males are, um, very male. Glasses and other things say the party has been going on a long time. The longer I stay the more my empathy picks up. There's fear here as well as lust. Terror and shame are adding to the bitch's pleasure. I look at one girl, feeling rage pour over me. I realize she looks a bit like Dawn, if Dawn were terrified, ashamed and forced into an animal heat. I get out.
"She's distracted," I say tightly.
"Distracted?" Anya says, then she smiles and is about to ask more when she takes a close look at me.
"Just as long as her attention is diverted," Buffy says, looking at my face.
"It is," I snap.
Both of them look at me and just nod.
"Right," Buffy says carefully. "Tara, when will Dawn be alone next. She gets up at seven, right?"
"She'll be alone for another ten minutes," I point out. "You accidentally set your clock ahead a bit last week, you know, after it, uh, ifell/i."
"Damn," Buffy says, glaring at the clock. "Tara, get to Dawn now and tell her to be ready to move in five minutes."
"What about work?" Anya asks with the unspoken undertone of what about earning money.
"I'm not going to play in her maze anymore," Buffy says firmly. "I think the mice need to chew their way out."
I go with hope warring against fear. Then I remember my family. Hope wins.
Dawn blinks the morning out of her eyes when I arrive and wake her. She smiles when she sees me.
"If this is a dream I don't wanna wake up," Dawn says with a yawn.
"Waking up in Jack' and talking to soap bubble ghosts?" I quip trying to hide my anger. "Next thing you'll be saying you like the food."
Dawn makes a face as she gets up.
"Dawn, this is important," I say carefully.
"Another magic breakout?" Dawn whispers, almost shining with hope and anticipation.
"Something like that," I answer. "Buffy's moving now while Grey is distracted. We have to move."
Dawn throws on her jumpsuit in a flash as I stare at the ceiling. She giggles, and then is serious. "How is she distracted?"
Anya shows up at that second and we go to the table again. Dawn seems to relax at once and takes her seat between Buffy and me.
"How did you distract the wicked bitch?" Dawn asks.
"Language," Buffy warns.
"She's distracting herself with pretty boys." Anya lies quickly.
"Oh!" Dawn smiles. Then she looks at me.
"In a bad way?" Dawn asks.
"She's distracted," Buffy says flatly. "So we do this now. Dawn, hold my hand and think of Giles."
"A spell?" Dawn asks with puppy enthusiasm. "Cool!"
Anya takes hold of Buffy's free hand and I try to track Giles through them. I feel a faint tug. Dawn has added just enough.
"I'll be right back," I promise.
I'm sure I'm lost. There's a dark pit with the afternoon light pale against rain. Everything is burned and tossed about. I walk out to the front and see a beautiful old house. I realize it's a glamour covering the destruction. I try to look for Giles in a panic. I find a charred slab with a pair of glasses caught under the edge. In a cracked frame is a picture of all the Scoobies. My father, our father, is dead.
In a rage I sweep into the past of this place. I see the fire, Anya stealing files and discs in a room full of torn furniture. Then I hear her voice on the phone system. She's angry. Giles is pinned against the desk as the fire starts, trying to reach the phone. He's dying when the slab collapses onto him. I follow Anya, who turns into Miss Grey at the head of the burning stairs. She walks out the door of the illusion.
Miss Grey tells the older Watcher, Travers, how glad she is that the research is so secure. Grey "suggests" Travers into putting extreme security around the pretty house and the team researching the Hellmouth. Grey doesn't need much magic to tell Travers to guard the house and team well. He wants the power Giles has hinted at. They set up wards around Miss Grey's pretty shell and Travers begins drafting a letter to Buffy.
I stagger back to the table. I just stare dully at them. Dawn's eyes each let a single tear slide down her face. Buffy is saying no over and over very softly.
"Take me there," Anya orders with a catch in her voice.
"It's warded," I say flatly.
"Take me there!" she screeches.
"No!" I shout.
Buffy wraps Anya up in a Slayer's strength as she and Dawn hold her.
"I never said goodbye," Anya whispers. "I never said goodbye. I never took the time."
"Time," Buffy says suddenly.
"Time," Buffy repeats carefully. She holds Anya at arms length. "Those temple demon things Warren and his nerd posse sicced on me," Buffy said sharply, "they can bend time. We can go back and stop this, all of it."
"Temple?" Anya asks puzzled.
"Temporal," I suggest, "I think."
"Rwasundi? Are you crazy?" Anya asks through her tears.
"Why?" Buffy asks angrily.
"Power, that's why." Anya barks. "They're vicious and they eat power, lots of it. That linear time effect eats power like mad. Blood magic is their favorite but they'll take anything, the more powerful the better."
"I can beat these guys," Buffy says quickly, not letting the idea go. "If I wear your amulet I can go back in time."
"Only about a month, at best," Anya says after tapping on her PDA.
"That much magic will attract Grey's attention," I say carefully. "You can't beat her alone Buffy."
"I'll wake up Anyanka," Buffy starts.
"Whose amulet you'll have to drain to get back," I point out. "Conservation of magic means that it will be drained when you arrive. Since you aren't magically gifted the amulet will head back to Anyanka. You'll slam into a tree at best and inside a tree at worst. And I'll bet the amulet is the only thing keeping her from becoming the tree."
"Wow," Anya says with admiration. "Your mother?"
I just nod proudly.
"She was a better teacher than I ever had," Anya says quietly.
"You guide me, then," Buffy says quickly.
"It's only a month and the amulet is still drained," I point out.
"I've got to do something!" Buffy almost shouts.
"I'm magic," Dawn states quietly.
"No," Buffy snaps.
"The time demon thingy likes power," Dawn points out firmly. "I'm the Key, the Key is-"
"NO!" We all snap at once.
"Wow," Dawn says with forced lightness. "That big sister spinal reflex is catching."
"Dawn," Buffy warns, "just don't."
"The clouds in my dreams are getting closer, aren't they Tara" Dawn says firmly, her voice older than her years.
"Yes, but..." I falter trying to come up with a logical argument. "No, not a chance."
"We've been using Anya's magic," Dawn continued. "Is that going to lead megamage back to Anya? Can Anya beat her?"
"Yes, yes I can," Anya lies. "Centuries of experience. No problem."
"How-"
"No." Buffy says flatly.
"Every bit of magic gone," Dawn says with a quiver in her voice. "Dozens of worlds, billions of people. There's no tower, Buffy. This time it's the Key goes back or the Key dies now because I am not going to let that bitch touch me and make me kill worlds! Going back is at least a chance."
Buffy and Dawn lock eyes and this time I know Dawn won't look away. My mind frantically races to find a way out. Anya looks through the data again, her face set hard, willing another option to appear. Buffy breaks the strained silence.
"We're not going to rush into this," Buffy says with forced calm. "I'm going to take a look at those emotional clouds and see if there's something we've overlooked."
"Fine," Dawn says with equal calmness. "We all go."
"She's right, Buffy," Anya says reluctantly. "I can't keep two separate unreality pockets going."
Buffy just nods.
"Let's go," she says with quiet command. "Tara, show us the way."
I swallow my fear and head toward the frightening clouds. We step out onto a solid looking gray ledge just in front of a black wall of clouds. Buffy and Dawn wince as they get close to the clouds. Anya becomes Anyanka and looks uncomfortable.
"All these emotions, untidy human feelings," Anyanka's voice trails off as she flinches.
"Yeah," Buffy muses as she looks into the darkness. "Stay here," she orders.
Buffy steps into the clouds and is gone. Dawn says her sister's name plaintively but stays in place. I look at the rolling mass closely, feeling sadness and anger wash over me in painful waves. I stumble under the emotional press and brush the clouds.
I start to fall. I hear Anyanka and Dawn scream my name before blackness envelops me.
Buffy walked into a darkness that felt of far off heat. The smell of burning filled the air as tiny fires smoldered in heaps of rubble. A soft gray rain of ash drifted across the small pools of light; above, the dark clouds cut off all light. Every step the Slayer took crunched under her boots. Ahead a tiny cone of light showed two figures. Buffy walked toward them.
As she came close she could make out Willow kneeling in the pool of light. Her hair was frosted with ash, and on her face was a look of uncomprehending shock and horror. Next to her was an older hawk-nosed woman who wore her anger like a banner. Some sense of familiarity came over Buffy as she looked at the woman next to her friend. She took another step closer. A figure appeared and blocked her way.
"No, Miss Summers," A musical female voice spoke.
Buffy saw a woman with ebony skin wearing the most conservative dark clothes the Slayer had seen in years. She was neither old nor young, but her eyes held an almost infinite sadness.
"Get out of my way!" Buffy snapped.
"They are not here if you're walking in this time and place," The dark woman explained.
"Who are you?" Buffy asked unafraid.
"I am Michelle," the woman said gently.
"Are you in charge?" Buffy demanded.
"No, you humans are," Michelle answered calmly. "This place is the end of many decisions."
"What's happening to them?" Buffy asked carefully controlling her anger.
"Miss Rosenberg is seeing the consequences of her decisions," the woman answered coldly. "She stilled a voice and changed the songs."
"Who's she?" Buffy asked pointing at the older woman. "She seems-she's-" Buffy's face softened as she looked at the careworn woman by her friend.
"She is Erin. She's tied to Miss Rosenberg by bonds of hate," Michelle answered firmly. "She hates Miss Maclay nearly as much."
"Why?" Buffy asked, never taking her eyes off the pathetic tableau.
"Erin blames them for the death of her children," Michelle said in a pained voice. "She knows who took the life from the first child she nearly bore."
"Me," Buffy said quietly with absolute conviction.
"You," Michelle confirmed. "Her name was to be Hope. Her song would have been short, but sweet. It would have given strength to other voices, who would have stopped this."
"What happened here?" Buffy said looking at the darkness. "Is this Sunnydale?"
"No, this is the dimension of the Arcadians, your magic pirates," Michelle explained. Then the dark skinned woman pointed at an ash falling near Buffy. "There's part of Sunnydale."
Buffy reluctantly touched the delicate flakes and saw Ernesto's two daughters looking up from their coloring books. She heard them call for
their father as the older one grabbed the younger. Then both disappeared in a flare of green, then red light. Buffy came out of the vision on her knees, wincing from the light.
"How?" was all she could manage.
"The Hellmouth was deeper than anyone knew and the Key stronger than Miss Grey thought," Michelle said as she looked into something Buffy couldn't see. "More and more worlds fell until a maelstrom of magic tore apart all things the Hellmouth ever touched. The Key flared out and dark silence came."
"The Key is a girl," Buffy snapped defensively. "Her name is Dawn."
"Not anymore," Michelle countered sadly. "There are no names here."
"All of the fighting, the nights of patrolling, losing innocents and friends and family," Buffy wailed. "All of it was for this? WHY?"
"Because decisions were made that led here," Michelle insisted. "And because you weren't there to stop it."
"ME?" Buffy screamed angrily. "I did everything I could!"
"Yes, you did," Michelle said with a sad pride in her voice. "You chose a crescendo of life and hope to go out on Miss Summers. It was a bravura performance. But instead of building on your song in their own voices, your friends chose to bring you back to reassure them, to comfort them. Their decision tore an overture of hope out of where it was needed. They broke the music, and when it started up again, it was a dirge."
Buffy looked at the angry hawk-faced woman next to Willow.
"Hope was her name- our name?" Buffy wondered out loud in a tired voice.
"Your name to be," Michelle explained. "Erin wanted you very much. The hunger was over, a man loved her enough to stay, and band of scavengers were becoming a community, maybe more. You were a joy to them. Losing you devastated them. There were other children later, two
of them, but by then some had given up, and in giving up they died, or worse."
"And their world?" Buffy wondered.
Michelle pointed to a falling ash again. Buffy grimaced and touched it. The angry woman's face and those of a thin boy and girl looked back at her coldly. Their deaths had been hard. The children's necks bore wounds Buffy had seen too often before. The Slayer stood up after she shook away the image. She glared at Michelle.
"Where were you?" Buffy demanded.
"Letting humans make their own decisions," Michelle answered defensively.
"Willow was tied to the Hellmouth, Xander had no magic, Anya was trying to understand humanity again and Tara was raised by people who told her she was a demon," Buffy said with anger, advancing on Michelle.
"Results of decisions made by other humans," Michelle pointed out.
"Well here's this human's decision," Buffy declared angrily. "This isn't going to happen!"
"You can't change this now," Michelle insisted. "It will take more than a Slayer to stop this."
Buffy grabbed the taller woman by the somber clothing Michelle wore and pulled the woman's face down to her level.
"Watch me," Buffy snarled.
Buffy pushed Michelle away and strode off in her own tracks in the ash. The Slayer disappeared into the darkness.
Michelle smiled.
Dawn leapt to where Tara had been an instant earlier. Grayness surrounded her as she called out Tara's and then Buffy's name.
"They'll be along in a moment," a kindly old voice said.
Dawn whipped around to see the oldest woman she had ever seen. Her dark face was lined and proud, but there was a gentleness there also. The cane she leaned on was covered with stars that seemed to move over the blue- black wood like a slice of the night sky.
"Excuse me, ma'am," Dawn said politely, trying to cover up her surprise. "Have you seen my friend or my sister? Are they all right?"
"They'll be along in a moment, Dawn," the old woman said confidently. "Go that way and wait, young lady."
The grayness lit up around a normal looking doorframe. Dawn reached for the knob with a touch of concern, but not fear. Just before she opened the door the old woman spoke again.
"Dawn, you've done all right, all things considered," the woman said gently.
"I could have done better," Dawn insisted softly as she looked over her shoulder.
"So learn, and remember," the old one said smiling. "Now go on, girl."
Dawn stepped through the door, her face a study in thought.
"Michelle," the old woman muttered resignedly as she shook her head.
Anyanka reached for Dawn half a heartbeat too late. A wisp of cloud touched the woman's hand. She heard thousands of voices scream for vengeance in their last moments. Anyanka knew she was the target for the hate of a spiteful host of beings. Their anger etched its way into her core. She fell into the corrosive calls for vengeance and knew no more.
Tara looked at a grove of oaks, her spirit stilled as she felt their calm come over her. Then a malignant sunset of green and red tore the stand of stately trees into splinters that flared briefly against darkness, leaving nothing but ash behind.
Again and again, a holy place or a handful of dedicated people of all the faiths she knew and ones she could only imagine tried to hold back the sweeping darkness on hundreds of worlds and perished, their light going out forever. All hope disappeared in a wall of unending despair that ripped her apart. The witch fell in a heap.
When Tara opened her eyes again a tall dark skinned woman dressed in somber colors looked down at her with disappointment.
"Why didn't you stand for the light, for hope, for what you knew was right?" the woman asked sadly.
Tara reached a trembling hand to the woman through the echoes of pain in her soul.
"Please," Tara begged in a shattered voice.
"I can not help you in this," the woman declared as she walked away.
Tara howled as the darkness closed in on her.
Buffy strode out onto the ledge. Dawn was next to Anya, helping her up. Tara was shaking and clutching her arms to herself but getting up. Buffy walked to the edge, then looked back at the three women behind her.
"Take us back to Sunnydale," Buffy said in a hard tone.
I don't remember much about the trip back to Sunnydale. The clouds had been frightening, now they were terror itself and every second away from them was a blessing. I could never have imagined that the table from the Magic Box in some unreality would be so welcome.
We collapse into our seats. Buffy looks at the table for a long moment, and when she raises her head she seems at least a decade older.
"Anya, how long will it take you to get a time shifter demon?" Buffy asks calmly.
Anyanka looks at her PDA with concentration then touches her amulet.
"About two minutes if I just call and skip subtlety," she answers.
"How long to control one?" Buffy asks wearily, not rising to Anyanka and subtlety.
"I don't know," she admits. "I think I remember some texts saying a hero just leapt on a Rwasundi and contained it by strength and force of will for hundreds of heartbeats. But the same story says the hero ended up going back a thousand days past his target and still didn't save his true love."
I try to keep a calm exterior through Anya's story. I tell myself that it's better to have all the information than none.
"Dawn, your will and your strength are going to be the only controls you have," Anya says emphatically. "Tara can't touch it, and then the Buffy and me that know what's happening are going to be in the future. We get one shot at this and you're it."
"I'm stronger than most heroes," Dawn pipes up proudly, "at least when I have to be."
"But you're not a Slayer," Buffy points out quickly, "and this thing will be trying to rip your Keyness out along with your throat."
"So it's not a merry go round horse," Dawn observes coldly. "I'm still the one who's got to do it."
"What's to keep Miss Grey here and not chasing Dawn?" I ask in what I hope is a calm voice.
"Me," both Buffy and Anya answer.
"Maybe a glamour," Dawn starts to suggest.
"She'll see through it," I point out firmly.
I don't like the look both Buffy and Anya have on their faces as they both shake their heads. They know this is an all or nothing plan, and the best-case scenario is one living girl arriving in Sunnydale months ago.
"We buy time," Buffy says gently, "and trust you to make the most of it."
Anya and I just nod. Dawn is silent as she realizes she's been given adult status by the one person she's wanted it from most and had it confirmed by the rest of us. The change is tiny, but she seems to hold herself just a bit straighter.
"Where or when am I going?" Dawn asks levelly. "Back to the point where Warren shot Tara?"
"NO!" I shout with fear-filled anger and startle all of them. "There's a bullet flying through that room!"
"You could live," Dawn says with a soft voice.
"And you could die!" I snap as I stand and lean across the table. "Where are you gonna come out, Dawn? The demon's not on rails; what if you come out in back of me and the bullet takes us both? What if you die saving me? What if Willow lashes out at the demon to protect me and hits you? What if she just loses it? Who's going to remember I'm there, or the Hellmouth, or Miss Grey, or Willow having a tie to the Hellmouth? Who's going to remember Gwen?"
With Gwen's name Dawn looks down for a moment. Buffy and Anya look unhappy. They hear the truth in my words and hate it.
"I want to live, Dawn," I say soothingly, "but not if there's a chance my living is going to kill someone I love."
"If I ever find a way," Dawn starts in a determined voice.
"I'll be there to make sure you don't do something stupidly brave," I warn.
"Great, I get the spirit chaperone," Dawn says with forced lightness.
"When do we send Dawn back to, if that makes any sense?" Buffy muses.
"My funeral," I suggest. "Everybody, you know, ielse/i was alive then."
"I hated your funeral," Dawn says with a wince.
"It sucked," Anya agrees.
"I thought all of you did it up kind of nice," I say with an enthusiasm that sounds false even to me.
"Nothing jumped us there," Buffy points out carefully.
"I just hope my not seeing myself when I go back doesn't mean something bad for the trip back," I worry out loud. It's a bad habit.
"You don't see yourself because you're not the same person," Buffy said with a thoughtful frown. "Even if you go back to the same place again you've changed, so nothing is ever the same."
I keep forgetting how deep my friend can be sometimes.
"Change is the only constant," I answer, a bit afraid of the idea I knew was true. "But we don't get a choice on some of those changes."
"Most of them," Buffy says with sad conviction. Then Dawn smiles.
"If there's going to be so much change then I'm gonna need more clothes," the teenager said brightly. "Gotta be ready for anything."
"The Summers' corollary of change," I observe dryly, looking at Buffy.
"Sounds good to me," Buffy replies with a real chuckle and smile.
"Remember she said that, please Tara," Dawn says with her puppy eyes she thinks I can't say no to (I can, really).
"Dawn," Anya chides, "Tara isn't a PDA or a DayRunner™."
"Very true," I say with gravity. "I'd have cute leather covers in all sorts of colors."
"Besides I didn't say you're getting more clothes," Buffy points out. "Or getting Driver's Ed this year either."
"Or dates until you're sixteen again, either," Anya adds.
Dawn gaped at Anya and then Buffy. Finally she turned her head to me and I just shook my head no.
"Great," Dawn says with a roll of her eyes, "that big sister reflex is getting a real workout."
"You missed it," Buffy says in a gently teasing voice.
"Only a little," Dawn admits with a shy, trying-not-to-smile look that makes me swear I will find a way to hug her and every one of them someday.
"What are we sending back?" Buffy asks thoughtfully. "I mean in our not a PDA Tara?"
We go over the salient points quickly until I feel I could recite them in my sleep, if I ever sleep again. Anya's been fingering her amulet. Dawn looks pensive.
"What about Gwen?" She asks carefully.
"Who's Gwen?" Anya asks baldly.
"A friend," Buffy answers softly, "one who died with no one to help."
Anya is about to protest when I look her in the eye. She just nods.
"I'll check on Miss Grey and if there's time I'll see when Gwen came to Sunnydale," I say firmly.
The trip to Miss Grey's proves Anya's better at magic than she thought. It's been minutes. I try not to look at the people being used like things, but I can tell Miss Grey is still very distracted. I hurry on to Gwen.
I don't go back to her death, but rather push to the day she and Dawn met in the "Jack". It works. Now I know I don't have to follow the whole time chain. I follow her and hear the now familiar "300 kid" meaning she's a ward of the State of California. I follow her time line back quickly, partly because it feels "off", and partly because time has slowed but not stopped. I follow her back almost to the week after my funeral. I speed down her timeline to emotional knots.
I watch a bright child scrounge for shelter in alleys, beg and steal food. She doesn't take anything she doesn't need. A box and a couple of pallets become her home. I see a green trash bag with everything she owns carefully hidden inside. I see a vampire trying to get her to come out of her "home", then try other prey, only it's Xander, trying to give Buffy a break on her patrolling. He looks exhausted after the fight. I remember the night. The next day Gwen finds her "boyfriend" and starts carrying his crystal meth so the police can only arrest a juvenile.
I see the bastard tell Gwen he loves her and ask if she loves him. Gwen starts to prove how much she loves him in the only way the child expects anyone to love her.
I lived in paradise and never knew it. I leave quickly.
The others have just blinked and I'm back. Dawn looks at me, her eyes growing wide at my look.
"Gwen will be in the alley behind the bookstore near the Espresso Pump a week after my funeral," I say tightly.
"What about her scum boyfriend?" Dawn asks with a snarl.
"We'll have a week before he gets his hands on her," I answer firmly.
"What about Miss Grey?" Buffy asks, her own anger carefully controlled.
"She's still distracted, only more so," I say with distaste.
"Anya, are you ready?" Buffy asks quickly.
"As ready as I can be," Anya answers evenly.
"Tara?" Buffy looks at me, her face a mask.
"I know the way I'm going," I say with some actual confidence.
"Dawn?" I hear a tiny catch in Buffy's voice.
"Ready," Dawn answers with a similar catch.
Buffy stands up and looks at each of us, finishing with a long look at Dawn.
"Let's go," the Slayer commands.