Undone Four

            "He's still not answering." Buffy stabbed the 'off' button of the phone with her finger and dialed Giles' phone number again. "Not much of a shocker. He's been real busy with…" Grimacing, she recalled the last conversation she'd had with her Watcher. Can't talk now, Buffy. I'm very sorry, but it this a critical time for Willow. She's experiencing a fleeting moment of lucidity, but it could so easily go either way.

            "What are you doing?" Ethan asked, sitting on a stool across the kitchen from where she stood. The room was dark, the curtains closed tightly in deference to Spike. She couldn't see the expression on his face. "You're not going to leave him a message. Even you would not be that unthinking."

            "Doesn't look like I have a choice." She twisted the phone cord around her index finger, listening to the final ring and the sound of Giles' voicemail message. "We can't go without telling someone. He's got to know where we're going… it could be dangerous. Someone needs to know where we are in case we don't come back."

            "And what, exactly, do you plan to say? 'Hello there Giles. Off to deal with a dangerous, unknown entity, but not to worry, your old, chaos-loving mate Ethan's here at my side. By the by, Dawn is my daughter and, oh yes, she's dead. Ta ta.' Go right ahead, tell him that. You'll give him a stroke."

            "I can't go without…" She turned away from him to leave her message. "Hi, Giles, it's umm, it's me. Buffy. Look, things are happening here… big things… I've got Ethan and Spike with me. Your Ethan. He's out of prison. And Spike is…" Lifting her gaze, she looked to where the vampire was crouched in a shadowed corner, his arms wrapped around his knees. "Spike's here too, sorta, and we're in trouble. Dawn's… kinda dead, but not dead, I mean, she's here, but she's dead too…" Switching hands on the receiver, she gestured for Ethan to go check on Dawn. "But don't worry. I'm going to get her back. I wanted to give you a heads-up, that we're going… Spike, Ethan, and I, not Dawn… we're going to meet a seer demon who works with the monks. You know, Dawn's monks? So, I'll call you after we're back. And… um… if any Knights of Byzantium happen to show up at your place, don't let them in. I stole their monk, and they're kinda pissed at me. Anyways, talk to you soon. Hi to Will and Xander. Bye now."

            Ethan, who hadn't moved, rolled his eyes as Buffy slammed down the phone and picked it back up again. "That was even more entertaining than I'd imagined. The Chosen One, eh? Good thing that role doesn't require much speaking."

            Forcing herself to be patient with him, she dialed Giles one last time, hoping that he'd hear the phone and pick up. "Nope, it doesn't," she said idly. Ring, ring, ring… Giles, where are you! "Vamps are more the 'grr, arg' type. Except for some who like to banter. And then there's the traditional 'Slayer! Prepare to die!' tact, but that never goes well for them." She hung up the phone with a final slam. "Guess my message will have to do. Anyways… we were talking about… something…" Shaking her head, she groaned. I can't even hold two thoughts together. How am I supposed to save Dawn if I can't think? "I'm losing my mind."

            "Well, you're in good company then. Variety amongst vampires was the topic. You covered the 'grr, arg' type, and the banter type, but at the moment, you should probably be more concerned with the sort of vampire that prefers to cower in a corner. Good company, as I said." Ethan stood and stretched his arms above his head, nonchalant. "I'll leave him to you and find Brother Pavel. We're ready to go now, aren't we? Unless you'd like to chatter on the phone all day."

"No," Buffy murmured, her attention shifting to the low moaning sounds coming from Spike's corner. He was still hunched over, his face buried in his arms. "We're almost ready. You go tell Brother Pavel it's time while I get Spike up."

Ethan cast Spike a dubious glance. "How exactly do you plan on moving him? He looks like he's enjoying his cozy linoleum corner much more than being out here with you."

"He doesn't get a choice. He's got to say goodbye to Dawn. If something goes wrong with the seer…" She shrugged. "I don't want him to regret not seeing her one last time, if the worst happens. He's dealing with too many regrets as it is."

"Good-bye, you say? You're not taking her along?"

"No. She'll wait here. The Key protects itself, as the monks said. I'm not worried about her staying behind."

"It's not like they can kill her." His lips twisted into a smile that wilted under her glare. "I'll go now."

"That'd be in the best interest of your skin. I'm just itching to beat on someone, and you're pissing me off with the whole 'opening of your mouth' thing." 

He held up his hands in a show of defenselessness. "Going now."

As soon as he was gone, she crossed the room to Spike and stood above him. He didn't look up, only started to rock with his whole body as he sensed her moving towards him. The back and forth movement made a rhythmic creaking sound on the linoleum floor beneath him. That noise, combined with his soft moans, made her move away again, towards the door. Way to go, Buff, she thought grimly. Let's freak him out even more. Like he's not crazy enough all on his own.

 "Spike," she called from across the room, but he made no sign of hearing her. "Hey. We have to go soon. Ethan went to find Brother Pavel. Can you hear me? Spike?"

He couldn't hear her, she decided finally, gloom falling over her so heavily, her shoulders seemed to ache with the weight. Not too much of a shocker, really. I should've expected this would happen. How long could he be coherent and here just on the power of will alone? He warned me that it couldn't last. Sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, she let out a long, shaky breath and tried not to remember who he had been before he'd gone and torn up his mind with guilt and regret. He's still in there, somewhere.

As if hearing her, Spike raised his head. "Buffy, is it time to go yet?"" His voice was thin and weak. She stood and turned on one of the dimmest kitchen lights to see him better. Flinching, he threw his body back into the shadows.

She turned the lights back off quickly, her hands quaking on the switch. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't know you were that… sensitive to the light. Are you okay? I mean, obviously you're not okay. But are you… here?"

"Here?" The word seemed to confuse him. He nodded finally, his long arms wrapped tightly around his calves. "Here. I'm here. But where… where is the Nibblet?"

            "Shh… Dawn's fine. We're going to go see her right now." She came near him slowly, letting him adjust to her as she drew near. "You know we have to leave. You remember that much?"

            At that, he picked his head up, his features sharpening. "We have to go. To save Dawn. Yeah, I remember that. But…" Dropping his head down, he looked away from her. "Not much else. Some. But not much. It's like… I think of something, but it just… just runs away from me."

            "It's okay. I'll help you as much as I can." She held her hand out to him, urging him to take it with a beseeching look. "Get up. We need to go see Dawn."

            He took her hand and squeezed it gently. "Thanks, pet, but I can stand on my own."

            Releasing his hand, she smiled. "Oh. Good."

            "It's the thinking part that's the real trouble."

            Her smile fell. "Oh. Not so good. But Spike, it'll be okay. Like I said, I'll help you. But first, let's go say goodbye to Dawn before Brother Pavel and Ethan are breathing down our necks. I think Ethan's actually in more of a rush to get to the seer than I am."

She stepped back to give him room to stand and together they moved out into the living room. Before he could recoil back into the darkness of the kitchen, she quickly flipped off the light switches. "Here," she said, hoping her voice sounded soothing. "It's all dark in here now, except for Dawn."

"The Key's light, that's okay." He moved to sit beside Dawn on the couch, his face taking on a reflective green hue. "It's calming. It's… her. The Nibblet."

"You think Dawn is calming? Hah. You should see her at that time of the month. She's not exactly made of light and peacefulness then." Perching beside him, she leaned back against the couch cushions. "How are you holding up with all this?"

"Which part?" He patted her hand before she could respond. "No, I get it. The 'Dawn's your dead daughter' part of today's melodrama. You're wanting to know how that sits with me?"

"That's what I asked." Fingering the hem of Dawn's sock, she couldn't meet his eyes. "She's your friend. The only one of us who treated you like a person. And now, not only is she… well, not alive, technically… but she's my daughter. I know just how many wiggins that gives me. Kinda wondered if you had any… reaction."

"Seeing as how all my swimmers are over a century dead, I'm not too worried 'bout making child support payments."

She raised her eyes and found him focused on Dawn's face. The look he wore, a strange mixture of tenderness and frustration, made her teary. "Hey," she said, trying to make him look at her. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

With a soft touch of his finger, he brushed a lock of Dawn's long hair off her forehead. "What do you expect from me? She's the Little Bit. Nothing can change that. 'Course I'm not thrilled that she's dead, temporary situation or not. But we're going to get her back."

"Of course we are," Buffy blurted out, her mouth tensing into a straight line.

He tilted his head towards her. "You wouldn't even consider any other possible ending to this. That's what I'd expect from you, Buffy. You've always believed that nothing can stop you from moving mountains for those you love. Hell, you'd probably move heaven itself to bring her back."

"So? You think that's… what? Naïve of me? You don't think I can do it?"

"Just the opposite. I believe you will save her, absolutely." He rubbed his jaw ruefully. "After what I've done for love… the impossible, you might say… how could I ever doubt you?"

Reaching out with a wavering hand, Buffy touched his chest. "You really are still in there. I was starting to wonder."

He stood, the movement so abrupt that it took her a moment to realize he'd moved away. "Buffy, this doesn't change… well… anything. Don't think I'm back. I'm not the… the creature you knew."

She opened her mouth to answer, then thought better of it when she heard footsteps coming up the hallway towards them. "We can talk about this later. Brother Pavel's here," she said, nodding to the monk as he walked in with Ethan. "It's time to go, Spike."

           

Brother Pavel returned her nod. "You are ready, aren't you Slayer? We can't wait much longer. The monks have made the necessary preparations." He flipped on all of the light switches, flooding the room with brightness.

Spike retreated into the kitchen immediately, a garbled shout trailing in his wake. Jumping to her feet, Buffy followed him. He went back to his corner and sat, covering his face with his hands. "No, no," he whispered. "Not yet. I've things, things to do in here…. But I can't, I can't, it's too light, far too bright…" His hands went to his head and buried under his hair to rip at his scalp until a thin trickle of blood ran down his forehead.

"What is wrong with him?" Brother Pavel asked as he and Ethan entered to room. He turned on the lights and surveyed the scene. "He is out of his head. How is he going to be of any help to you?"

"Turn those lights off!" Buffy hissed. She crouched in front of Spike, blocking the worst of the glare from his face. "Ethan! Turn them off! Now!"

Ethan obeyed and as the room fell into darkness, Spike slowly relaxed. He leaned against the wall, his hands flat over his face. "I'm… I'm fine. Perfectly fine. Buffy. Slayer. We can… we can go now. If we have to. I can be fine, if I have to. Fine. Just fine."

"We really do need to go," Buffy said, resting a cautious hand on his shoulder. The brown monk's robe he wore felt scratchy under her palm, but the muscle beneath it was firm and solid, reassuring her. "I'll walk beside you, okay? Ethan, you go ahead with Brother Pavel. We'll follow."

She put her hands under Spike's elbows, helping him to stand, then noticed his blanket from the floor and draped it over his shoulders. "You can do this. We're only going out to the cabana. Just a few steps out the door, a few more across the yard, and then it'll be dark again."

"Do watch out for the swimming pool," Ethan said, opening the back door and motioning Brother Pavel out ahead of him. "I doubt we'd be able to fish you out soon enough to avoid ash soup."

"Just ignore him," Buffy said quietly in Spike's ear. She took her hands off his arms but stayed close to his side. "Come on. It isn't far."

"I just… I'm fine… just need to get my mind together… my thoughts…" He trailed off as Buffy stepped outside and, tossing the blanket over his head, he followed her.

Half-helping, half-pulling Spike around the pool, Buffy breathed a sigh of relief when the cabana doors closed behind them. "See, what'd I tell you? Just a few steps and look, it's all nice and dark and shadowy again."

Spike didn't answer her. Flinging off the blanket, he let it land in a heap behind them and hurried to crouch in the corner nearest to where Buffy stood.

"Yeah," she said, looking helplessly at Ethan and Brother Pavel. "You just… hang out there. That's okay. Like I said, nice and dark."

"Of course, your oh-so-nice darkness does make it difficult to spot this seer bloke." Ethan raised his eyebrows at the monk, who was shifting nervously closer and closer to the exit. "Are you planning on taking us to it and making introductions? Or is this a 'help ourselves' sort of deal."

            Brother Pavel twitched at Ethan's tone. "You should watch your words, sorcerer. The last time I went near the seer, it was to retrieve a dead body."

            "I thought you said this demon works for you. That it's on the good side of things," Buffy said.

            "The side of good is subjective. God only knows what the seer considers to be just. It is a useful demon, but still a demon. The monk who was killed suffered for what the seer considered an unpunished and unpardonable wrong done in the past."

            Nervously shifting from one foot to the other, Buffy said, "That's not exactly reassuring. I've done some wrongs of my own. If I come out of here dead, then Dawn's lost too."

            "There is some risk, I admit, but I'm sure nothing will happen to you. After the first unfortunate incident, we learned how to counter its magic. We do not have it controlled entirely but it is, for lack of a better word, leashed under our power. Now, if you don't mind, I'll be going. The seer makes me… uneasy."  

            "Hmph." Buffy took a step towards Brother Pavel, her eyes flashing in the darkness. "Great. That's just wonderful. But guess what? I don't care. Show us where the seer is before you make your big, chicken-ey runaway."

            With a shaking finger, Brother Pavel pointed to a small tree growing out of the concrete floor at the far end of the room. As he moved towards the exit, he spoke over his shoulder. "There. Seer, meet Slayer. Slayer, meet the seer." The words were punctuated by the sound of the door slamming shut behind him.

            "That's the seer?" Ethan crept towards the tree. Bending close to examine its thin, leafless branches, he ran a finger down its trunk gingerly . "Not much of a tree. It's even skinnier than you are, Buffy. But I'll say this for you, at least you're not dripping with… what is this, anyway?" He pulled his hand back and rubbed his fingers together, making a face. "Sticky. And it burns a bit." Straightening, he turned to face Buffy. "Do you think it---"

            Suddenly, the tree began to move. "Ethan!" Buffy shouted and rushed forward as the tree's two main limbs rose up above Ethan's head, then lowered and slammed into his shoulders, impaling him. "Oh god." She grabbed for him, put her hands above where the ends of the limbs jabbed out of his shirt, but before she could think of what to do, the limbs jerked upwards, pulling Ethan with them.

            He didn't make a sound, only shot straight up onto his toes, his back extending and arching unnaturally until he fell against the tree. It thrust him against its trunk, pinning him there, its limbs still inside firmly his body.

            Buffy reached over Ethan's shoulders and took hold of the limbs at the point where they entered his back. "Hang on," she muttered, tugging on them, trying not to look at Ethan's face, inches from her own. He appeared to be unconscious, but his eyes were open wide and staring so blankly, she knew something beyond her understanding was taking place. Her hands slipped on the sap coating the tree limbs. The sap or Ethan's blood. But let's not think about that right now. Bigger fish to fry… and… "Oww!" she yelped, releasing the tree and falling back onto the ground. She brushed her hands off against the cement, trying to wipe the sap from them, to stop the burning.

            "Here," Spike said. "Let me…" Tucking his blanket around his shoulders, he ran out of the cabana, returning seconds later. "Water. From the… the pool," he said, holding out the edge of his blanket towards her. "To wash your… your…"

            "Thanks." She took it from him and rubbing the stickiness from her hands, wincing. "Hurts like a sunburn. I guess it's the tree's natural defense. Acid sap. Nice, huh? Giles would have a field day with this demon. Wonder what it is, though. And how we're going to get Ethan free if I can't touch it."

            Ethan shook his head, the movement so sudden that Spike and Buffy jumped back. His eyes went wide, but the rest of his face remained expressionless. "Stop. Listen."

            Buffy edged her body in front of Spike's but made no other move towards the tree and Ethan. "Ethan, what are you… oh. Wait a minute. I get it. You're not Ethan."

            "Ethan is the host. He is my mouth, as I cannot speak without borrowing a human form."

            Shaking her head, Buffy said, "No way. Sorry, but no. You can't do that. Not without his permission."

            "I do not understand. You dislike this one and he has no true part in your mission, no role to play in your reasons for coming to me. He was the appropriate body to use."

            "You're right, but this has nothing to do with how I feel about him. He's a human being. You can't just take over his body without his permission."

            "Yeah," Spike said, moving forward to stare closely into Ethan's flat eyes. "He's human. Human being, that makes the difference. Now demons like me, that's another story. It has to use someone. We have to communicate somehow."

            "You are a vampire," the seer said. "Vampires are creatures of death. I am a creature of life. Ethan must be the host; I cannot use you."

            "Well. Haven't heard that for a while." Spike turned to Buffy. "Except from you. When you meant it and when you didn't… and when you meant it and used me anyways… not much of a difference, really. Apart from the ache."

            "I… I… Spike, we can't talk about that now. Look, seer, whatever you have to use, demon or human, I don't care. We need to communicate to save Dawn. But let me try to find someone who is willing. You didn't ask Ethan's permission."

            "Yes I did."

            "When? I was here the whole time, I didn't hear you…"

            "Just now. I can hear his thoughts. His mind is all around me, blood and metal and brain tissue- all of it. I know him better than he knows himself. All he cares about is getting this over with and leaving the country."

            "Metal? What you do mean?"

            "His chip," Spike said. "The Initiative must have chipped him. Cut off his magic. Must have been the only way to keep him in a cell. No wonder he's in such a hurry to skip town. He probably wants to get it out."

            "We'll worry about that later. Right now, let's just move on. We need to focus." She looked from the tree's trunk to Ethan's face and back again, unsure of where to center her attention. "Dawn. My… my daughter. I'm here because of her."

            "Ethan's mind contains this knowledge. I'm aware of what you seek."

"Great. That's… that's great." She took a deep breath. Stay calm. Be clear. I'll get her back. I can do this. "I need to know what I did wrong. What was it that happened, that took me away from Dawn?"

"You died." Spike cocked his head at the seer. "That was it, wasn't it? She died. Not a natural thing. And then being brought back, well, that was a freak show like you wouldn't believe."

"I was thinking the same thing," Buffy said. "About the death. Not the freak show part, though he's not too wrong there. But the death… was that it?"

"It could have been many things. Every instance you have lived through changes where you will end up. The one moment that altered your destiny will be difficult to find, but speculation is not the way. To learn the truth of where your life branched away from your destiny, we must enter your minds."

Buffy frowned. "Enter our minds? How are you going to do that?"

"Magic. Come close to me, both of you."

Eyeing the tree and the man in confusion, Buffy asked, "Which one of you?"

            "Ethan. Come to Ethan. Hold his hands."

            She obeyed, clasping Ethan's limp fingers around her own. "Come on, Spike. You're not getting squeamish on me now, are you?"

            Spike came forward with slow, clipped steps. "I don't like this, Buffy. Bad, bad things happen inside my mind. You don't want in here. I don't want in here."

            She reached out for him with her free hand and took his, completing the circle. "It's alright. I've already seen the worst of you, remember?"

            He blinked in surprise. "That's supposed to be reassuring?"

            "I'm still here, aren't I? So, hush. We've gotta do this."

            Releasing her hand just long enough to tap his forehead, he tried to smile. "For the Nibblet, I'd let anyone inside here. Just wanted to give a fair notice is all."

            She took up his hand again and gave it a squeeze. "Okay, seer. What now?"

            Without warning, the dim light turned to pitch blackness. Buffy could see nothing. Clinging to Spike and Ethan's hands, she started to ask what was happening when the sensation of numbness fell over her. I can't breathe, she thought, panic rising in her throat. Or move, or see, or…

            "Buffy!"

            She could hear Spike calling her as if from far away. Why can he talk when I can't? Trying again to shout, she choked instead. Great. This is just great. What the hell is going on?

            "You are safe, Slayer. Do not fear." Ethan's voice rang inside her head, but the words belonged to the seer. "It's over now. See? Open your eyes."

            She did, slowly, sensation coming back to her body like warm water over her skin. Blinking in the light, it took her a moment to realize what she was looking at.

            "Oh… my…" Rubbing her eyes with her fists, she took a step forward towards the sight: two people lying together on a bed, one a woman, one a child. One so familiar, tears prickled at the backs of her eyes. "Mommy?"

             "She cannot hear you."

            Turning her head, she saw Ethan standing in the doorway. In her doorway, she corrected herself, shaking her head in bewilderment. "This… this was my bedroom in LA, when I was a little girl. And that's… that's me lying there with my mom. How can this be possible? What are you doing to me?"

            "We're in the past, Buffy," Spike said, walking out from behind her.

            "Spike… look at yourself. You're just like before." Her hand reached out as if by its own accord to touch the bleached hair above his ear. "You even have your duster back."

            "Clear-headed, too. Don't ask me how. I haven't felt this good in months." A hesitant smile grew on his face. "I can think again. The pain is all but gone. Whatever's happening, it's good for me."

            "I am holding your minds inside of me," the seer said. "For you, vampire, I have numbed the emotions and memories that would make you incapable of enduring this mission."

            "And me?" Buffy sat down on the edge of the bed and touched her mother's cheek. "Why did you bring me here?"

            "It seemed best to take you to a comforting memory first, until you've adjusted to what we are doing." Ethan looked down at Buffy as she stroked her mother's hair. "She cannot feel you. No matter what you do to her, she will not know you are here."

            "We're not really in the past, are we?" She inhaled deeply, taking in her mother's soothing scent. "We're not really here."

            "That is correct. We are inside your mind at the moment. I searched it for a memory of comfort, and you brought us here."

            "'S that how you'll take us to the time when she screwed it all up? You'll pick through her brain for a memory of… what?" Spike walked around to bed to sit beside the image of young Buffy. He touched a finger lightly to her nose, his face going soft. "This is good, here," he said, giving the real Buffy a glance. "Can't we stay for a while?"

            "No," the seer answered. "We cannot linger any longer than necessary. I will search her memory for times of heightened emotion, confusion, and turmoil. Certainly the moment of error would have caused such feelings."

            "Great," Buffy said, pulling herself away from her mother. She stood up and walked across the room before the temptation to stay grew any bigger. "Confusion and turmoil. Lots of emotion. Huh. Did Ethan warn you I had a pretty bad few years? 'Cause I'm thinking we'll be walking around in my memories for a couple centuries if we have to go through each and every time my life sucked."

            "You are ready? We shall move onto the next."

            "And where will that be?" Buffy's words were swallowed as the blackness overtook her again.

            When the light returned, all she could do was stare. The tower. And that's the portal. Dawn is up at the top, but it looks like she's alone. Where am I?

            "Bloody hell," Spike muttered, looking upwards. "It's…"

            "The portal," she whispered. "I never saw it from below. What's happening up-"

            Her words were cut off by the sound of something falling. Turning around, she saw that it was her own dead body hitting the cement.

            "B-bloody h-hell," she stuttered and fell to her knees. "That's me."

            Spike dropped down beside her, clutching her elbow. "I- I know. Believe me, Buffy, I know. Got the memory. We must be in my head now. This is all rewind to me." He pointed to their left. "As you can see."

              Her whole body flinched as she watched her friends walk towards the body- my body. "Giles… Will… Tara… Xander and Anya… but where are you? And where's… oh."

            She turned and saw Spike's old self, crumbled on the ground in a sobbing ball, and Dawn crouched next to him, holding his shoulders, pale and trembling as she looked upon the dead body of the woman who was her mother.

            "Dawn," Buffy said, both hands pressed against her mouth. "Oh God."

            "Let's go," Spike told the seer. He held Buffy tightly, keeping her from moving any closer to her dead self. "Now, seer. There's nothing here. Nothing."

            Buffy fell against Spike as the world went totally, mercifully, black.