2. Rules
Dawn Summers was tired. She was also frustrated.
She had been awake most of the previous night waiting for Willow's return. She had spent most of that morning impatiently waiting for Willow, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Then she had spent the rest of that morning celebrating Willow's return.
The afternoon had been spent helping Willow move into Xander's apartment, much to Dawn's chagrin. No matter how much Dawn pleaded, Willow insisted that she needed to live with Xander, at least for a few weeks. The witch said that the room she had shared with Tara was still too painful a reminder of everything that had happened, and that she needed some time to get her bearings back. She also said that there were "some icky medical- type issues that I don't want you and Buffy to get involved with." The logical part of Dawn's mind could empathize with all of that, but still.
With the direct approach not working, Dawn had tried to enlist allies, starting with Xander. But Xander was no help at all - he was practically giddy when Willow asked if she could stay in his apartment for a few weeks.
Worse, Dawn didn't even have her sister's support. Buffy had agreed with Willow. That part especially galled Dawn. Didn't her sister see that Willow was practically family now? That she needed to be with them? That she wasn't all bad and evil anymore, that she'd been fixed? (Dawn re- reminded herself that she had personally seen to Willow Rosenberg's redemption.)
Or perhaps not. Dawn had detected a bit of coldness in Buffy towards Willow, tearful embrace aside. The younger Summers would see about that.
In any case, tired though she was, if Willow wasn't coming back to Dawn, Dawn could go to her. She knew Willow would be spending this first evening in Xander's apartment alone, as Xander had been called away on construction business he couldn't get out of. Willow had claimed that a night alone was perfectly fine, and actually "desirable - it will be nice to get a little privacy," but Dawn was sure she'd be lonely. A surprise visit would be just what Willow would want.
And so it was that at precisely 7:26 pm on a Saturday evening, Dawn stood outside Xander's apartment, and knocked on the door. "Hi, Willow!" she yelled, cheerily. "Surprise! It's me, Dawn!"
There was a pause, then some sudden commotion behind the door. There was no direct response. Dawn was puzzled.
She knocked on the door. Louder. "Hey, Willow, it's me! Dawn! Can't I come in?"
A few seconds later, a voice answered. It sounded sort of like Willow, but had a dark undertone to it. "Dawn? Is that you? You shouldn't be here. Please leave. Now."
A surge of panic shot through Dawn as she remembered when she had last heard a similar voice. Dawn quickly cast a door-opening spell obtained by surreptitiously watching Willow a year earlier, and burst into Xander's apartment.
Willow sat at the kitchen table, her head suddenly turning towards Dawn. A hypodermic needle filled with an oily black fluid was sticking out of Willow's left arm. The witch's eyes were jet black.
Dawn opened her mouth to scream.
"Don't scream," said Willow.
Dawn stifled the scream.
"If you insist on being here, close the door behind you. Now."
Dawn did.
"Sit at the table."
Dawn did.
"Now. Don't move or say anything for the next thirty seconds. If you do, I will make you stop. Do you understand?"
Dawn nodded.
And with that, Willow shifted her attention away from Dawn to the hypodermic needle in her left arm. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and slowly pressed the plunger down. The oily fluid disappeared into one of Willow's veins.
Within seconds, arcs of energy shot across Willow's arm, and then spread across her entire body. Willow began convulsing.
Dawn's brain sent out an impulse to rush to Willow, which was quickly suppressed. [Don't,] she heard in her mind.
A few seconds later and the convulsions stopped. Willow took a few deep breaths and opened her eyes. They were green.
"Why are you here, Dawn?" asked Willow, in a soft but controlled voice.
"I wanted to be with you," said Dawn. "This is the last thing I thought I'd see." She felt herself getting angry, although she managed to keep herself under control. "Willow, I thought that after everything we'd been through, the least you could do would be to avoid dark magic."
Willow stared at her blankly, then smiled. "What, do you think I've just fallen off the magical wagon, Dawn? Hmm?"
Dawn nodded.
"I told you in one of my letters that I have to do a lot to control the dark energies my own body creates."
"Then what the hell are you doing injecting yourself with more? That's the last thing on earth you should be doing!" Dawn yelled. She quickly looked away. "I'm sorry, Willow, I didn't mean that..."
"Yes, you did," interrupted Willow. "But it's okay. Watch me and learn. Again, don't move or say anything for the next few minutes."
Dawn nodded. Willow carefully replaced the hypodermic needle in a black velvet case, and pulled a small pin out of the same case. She pricked her arm with the pin, and transferred a drop of blood from the head of the pin to a tiny vial. Then, she pulled out three small glass jars containing different-colored powders. Three times, she used a small spoon to dole a tiny amount of the powder into the vial with the drop of blood. Each time, the vial glowed a different color, first a medium red, then a medium green, then a medium blue. Each time, Willow carefully compared the color of the vial to the colors on a set of cards spread out on a table, and wrote down the number next to the color that most closely matched the vial. When she had used all the powders, Willow spent a few moments working out what Dawn saw was a weighted average: "(5R + 4G + 3B) / 12," to be precise. Willow seemed to be happy with whatever the final result was, as she relaxed a little.
"You see, Dawn, I do these chemical tests on a blood sample, compare the colors, and work out this formula, and I get this number. It's all about the numbers. Right now it's at 93, which is okay. The rule is that it needs to be between 50 and 150. If it gets below 50, I'm hypo with respect to the dark magics. This means I'll start craving dark energies, possibly uncontrollably. Like before. That's not good."
Dawn nodded.
"So, right before you walked in, I was at 41. That's because I burned a lot of energy teleporting to Sunnydale. So I needed to inject myself with some of this black crap, which, as you figured out, is purified dark energy."
"Oh." Willow heard Dawn breathe a sigh of relief. "But... you can't walk into a drugstore and buy dark magic. Don't you have to buy it on the black market? Isn't it incredibly dangerous?"
"No," said Willow. "Because all these vials really came from me. Most of the time, the number isn't below 50 - it's over 150. That means I'm hyper with respect to the dark magics, which means dark energies are building up in my body. If they get too high for too long, they'll start poisoning me, especially my brain, and..."
"That's really not good," said Dawn. She shuddered, remembering all too well the events of the past few months.
"Yeah. When that happens, I have to lance the excess energy from my body. That involves using what's sort of a magical suction cup to draw most of the excess to a single part of my body, usually my arm. Then I slice my arm open with this specially treated knife, and let the black juice drip into one of these vials. If you burst in on me tomorrow night, you might even see it."
Dawn gasped. "Wow. Doesn't that hurt?"
"Yes. But the pain sort of helps to clear the mind, actually. Not like I haven't seen worse."
Dawn put her head down. Willow shouldn't have to do that to herself. It was not fair. Not that anything ever was in Sunnydale, but still...
Dawn was interrupted by the sound of Willow's voice. "Why are you here, Dawnie?"
"I told you. I wanted to be with you. I mean, I haven't seen you in two months. Four months, actually, depending on how you count. I was hoping to have a sleepover. Just the two of us."
Willow seemed surprised.
"Yes, really," said Dawn. "Unless you'd rather be by yourself."
"No," said Willow, hurriedly. "I'm just a little surprised, that's all."
"Why?"
"Because..." Willow took a deep breath... "because of everything that happened, especially two months ago..."
"Willow, I told you not to apologize. Why can't you take 'I forgive you' for an answer?"
Willow smiled. "Okay. But does Buffy..."
"No. I wasn't sure she'd approve, and I really don't care."
Willow frowned. "If you're going to stay tonight, I'd really rather you called Buffy. I don't want her to worry. Please. For me."
Dawn frowned, but picked up her cell phone, and dialed. "Hi, Buffy, it's me... I'm fine... I'm over at Xander's with Willow... she's fine, too... Say, Buffy, can I stay overnight with Willow? Please?" A look of anger suddenly crossed Dawn's face. "Yes, Buffy. It will be - perfectly - okay to be with Willow... Yes, I'm sure. I'm really, really sure. Thanks. See you tomorrow." She hung up.
"She doesn't trust me, does she, Dawn?"
"No, and it really pisses me off."
"It's the reasonable thing to do."
"I don't care. She should have some trust, especially now. It's not just you. I'm not sure she trusts anyone at all. But it's not like she doesn't know exactly what happened. She used the chain you sent her, after all. I found her sobbing on the couch afterwards, saying 'I'm so sorry, Willow,' over and over."
Willow was taken aback. [I had no idea she'd feel that way,] Willow thought.
"Of course, a few hours later, and it was back to happy, cheery Buffy again. She's been so relentlessly upbeat and take-charge since... well since last May, it's scary. She claims she had an epiphany about how great it was to be alive. I'm not so sure."
Willow nodded.
"But I don't want to talk about Buffy anymore. Instead... could you just hold me?"
Willow did, tears streaming down her cheeks.
* * *
Willow Rosenberg and Dawn Summers stretched out on the couch, following the end of an old MASH rerun. Willow clicked off the television. She took a deep breath.
"I need to apologize to you, at least once," said Willow.
Dawn's eyes rolled backwards.
"Dawn - I know. But please. It's partly for me, I admit it. The one thing I've had the most trouble with is admitting what I tried to do to you and why. So the psychiatrists made it a condition of my returning to Sunnydale that I tell you why I wanted to destroy you, and apologize."
Dawn sighed. "I don't think I'm wearing a collar, but if you insist. Go ahead."
"Well, see Dawn - the thing about me was that - um, okay - I secretly hated myself. Completely. I hated myself when I thought I was a worthless and unlovable little girl who couldn't be a real Scooby rather than just get in the way, and couldn't even be a real nerd. I hated myself even more when I found out that I was really a demon. So I let the dark magic build up in my body after I caused that car accident with you. It was so much easier to lie to myself that I was a magic addict then face the truth that I was really a demon who was creating her own dark energies as she matured."
"Then, when Tara died in my arms, I collapsed. She had been my last defense against myself. When she died, I had nothing left. But I couldn't deal with myself... so my personality exploded."
"Yeah, I'm familiar with that part," said Dawn. "But what does this have to do with why you wanted to kill me?"
"I'm getting there. Maybe a little slowly, but I'm getting there. The 'bad me' fragment took over, and she hated herself completely. She wanted to destroy herself and everything about herself. That included you." She sobbed. "So you see, Dawnie - I tried to kill you because I was so absorbed with my own self-hatred that I wanted to destroy any reflection of me - even if she was an innocent, even if she was my... own girl... I'm so sorry, Dawnie, I'm so sorry..."
Dawn's face was emotionless. "Did you kill me, Willow?"
"No, but..."
"Didn't your evil self get destroyed in the end? Didn't your love for me and the rest of us save you, and the world for that matter?"
"Yes, but..."
"No buts. I forgive you, Willow. I love you."
"...Really?"
"Yes. And I understand you had to get this out of your system. But don't you dare ever use me as a confessional again to feel sorry for yourself."
"...Okay." Willow managed to smile.
"And one other thing, Willow?"
"Yes?"
"You don't still hate yourself, do you?"
"No. It hasn't always been easy, especially at first. But no."
"Good. But you still hate who you were. Don't try to deny it, I know it's true. You had a lot of good qualities, Willow. Even before two months ago, you were a hero, and a lot of people loved you. So you have to forgive the old you - like her, even."
Willow gasped. "I know, Dawn, but it's so hard... I keep trying..."
"It's okay. It doesn't have to be tonight."
* * *
A few hours later, after a rousing set of card games, Willow and Dawn somehow got from the rules of Cincinnati poker to the rules of magic.
"The rules used to be so easy," said Willow. "First, magic was Good. It helped people and killed the nasty vamps and demons. And, later on, if it was a bother for me to do something, or someone got angry or unhappy at something I did, magic was good, too." She looked down. "But that had problems."
"Yeah," said Dawn.
"Then magic was Bad. It was nasty and icky and addictive, and ... why I lost Tara. So I shouldn't use it. Ever. Even if I could have saved you and myself easily when the hallucinating Buffy trapped us in the basement with that demon. Even if I secretly knew that those horrible sensations in my body weren't really withdrawal symptoms. And then it was too late."
"Those were really stupid rules to live by, Willow."
"I didn't say they were good," said Willow. "I said they were easy."
"Do you have any new rules yet? Better ones?"
Willow shook her head. "Not yet. I keep trying, though. Might be close. I have this idea that you can use magic to maintain balance. You know, if magical baddies are attacking you, you can use magic to fight them. If magical baddies hurt someone, you can use magic to heal them. But if you get sick normally, or you forget a textbook, or you get in an argument with somebody, then well, you can't use magic, because that would upset the balance. And in any case, you shouldn't use more magic then you need."
Dawn nodded. "That sounds better."
"Yeah, but it's really hard to use in practice. I mean, I spent hours this afternoon trying to figure out if it was okay to use magic to help do a search on some feral demons Buffy has to fight. I mean, the demons are magical, but it was really possible that I might be able to find dirt on them just through regular Internet searching. So I could just use Google and my hacking skills, but that might take too long, and Buffy wouldn't have the information she needed, so that would mean I should use magic, and on and on. And after I finally decided it was okay to use some magic, there was the question of how much to use. Should I use magic for the whole search? Or use Google for the basic searching and only use magic to get through the good sites' security barriers? It got so complicated, and I spent so long debating what to do, that I ran out of time and had to use magic for the whole search. I felt really terrible."
Dawn giggled. "I think you're overthinking this, Willow. You must be allowed a little freedom. I'm sure the universe won't collapse if you make the wrong decision on how to search on feral demons."
"Yeah. You're probably right. I wish I could have your confidence about this sort of thing. But I'm not sure I can."
* * *
Willow and Dawn turned the lights out a little later, although sleep was still a few hours away.
"Willow," whispered Dawn, "there's something I wanted to apologize to you for, too."
"What, Dawnie? I can't imagine what it would be."
"I secretly wanted so much to save the evil version of you, even though she was so, well evil. She was so much more interesting. I was so disappointed when I had to save the crying, whiny version of you."
Willow smiled. "Yeah, she kinda did get in some good lines, didn't she? I still think the whole 'Who Moved My Cheese?' thing was great. That's cause she somehow got most of my intellect."
"I know it's bad of me to think this, but I really thought I could reach her and save her. Especially when she told me about me."
Willow sighed. "You couldn't, Dawn. She was purified hate and negativity, and couldn't possibly feel love for anyone. The few times she seemed to waver were nothing more than the other part briefly taking control. Remember that the other part could hear everything you said, too."
"I know, but... I still feel like I was so close, that I could have done something more."
"No. You weren't, and I'd know. Sorry, Dawnie, but you can't save everyone. That's the rule. Besides, you didn't hate the Good Willow version of me that much, did you?"
"No, but... God, she never did anything but cry and whine and feel sorry for herself. I almost thought she wasn't real, or a small piece of you at most. Looking back, that's probably why I tried so hard with the evil version of you."
"Yeah. She was crippled by guilt, and she didn't have much will power of her own. She could only get strength by drawing on Evil Willow, which you got her to do. So now they're both gone. As separate pieces, anyway."
"Yup. It's over."
"Say, Willow?"
"Yeah?"
"Which one of them was the real you?"
Pause. "I've been thinking a lot about it. I don't know. Neither - both parts were destroyed when the current me was created. Both - they both fused to make me. I wouldn't be me without either of them. And as for whether I'm back to the same person I was before all this happened - with some big personality changes - or a new person with her memories - it's hard to even go there."
"Sounds confusing."
"It is. No simple rules in my case. Other than that I don't look good either in black-on-black or in charcoal fur."
Dawn laughed. Willow smiled.
"One last thing, Willow?"
"What?"
"Those scales you had at the end? Are they real?"
Willow nodded. "They weren't at first - they started appearing a few weeks ago."
"I don't see them."
"I cast a spell to hide them. It would be too hard to explain to most people."
"Can you reverse it? Please?"
Willow was taken aback, but carried out the request. A line of emerald scales appeared up and down her arms. Dawn began lightly tracing them. "They're so pretty," she whispered.
[I never thought about it before, but I guess they are,] thought Willow.
* * *
Willow Rosenberg:
She's asleep now. For about ten minutes, I think. We're lying on Xander's couch, and her head is closely pressed to my chest. I'm stroking her hair, and every so often I kiss her forehead. I can her breathing softly. She's actually happy to be here, in my arms.
I've dreamed about this moment ever since I learned the truth about Dawnie, over a year ago. I dreamed that one day I would tell her the truth about who she was, and she would accept me, and we'd fall asleep in each other's arms like this.
And every time I had this dream, it turned into a nightmare. I would tell Dawn the truth about who she was, and then she'd run off screaming and try to kill herself.
The nightmare prevented me from ever telling Dawn the truth, even though it would have done so much to take away her inner pain and fear. Then the nightmare took over completely.
But it's over now.
Too bad there are other nightmares still out there. But I'll deal with them later. Tonight there are only sweet dreams.
* * *
Next: "Your Knight in Shining Armor"
Dawn Summers was tired. She was also frustrated.
She had been awake most of the previous night waiting for Willow's return. She had spent most of that morning impatiently waiting for Willow, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Then she had spent the rest of that morning celebrating Willow's return.
The afternoon had been spent helping Willow move into Xander's apartment, much to Dawn's chagrin. No matter how much Dawn pleaded, Willow insisted that she needed to live with Xander, at least for a few weeks. The witch said that the room she had shared with Tara was still too painful a reminder of everything that had happened, and that she needed some time to get her bearings back. She also said that there were "some icky medical- type issues that I don't want you and Buffy to get involved with." The logical part of Dawn's mind could empathize with all of that, but still.
With the direct approach not working, Dawn had tried to enlist allies, starting with Xander. But Xander was no help at all - he was practically giddy when Willow asked if she could stay in his apartment for a few weeks.
Worse, Dawn didn't even have her sister's support. Buffy had agreed with Willow. That part especially galled Dawn. Didn't her sister see that Willow was practically family now? That she needed to be with them? That she wasn't all bad and evil anymore, that she'd been fixed? (Dawn re- reminded herself that she had personally seen to Willow Rosenberg's redemption.)
Or perhaps not. Dawn had detected a bit of coldness in Buffy towards Willow, tearful embrace aside. The younger Summers would see about that.
In any case, tired though she was, if Willow wasn't coming back to Dawn, Dawn could go to her. She knew Willow would be spending this first evening in Xander's apartment alone, as Xander had been called away on construction business he couldn't get out of. Willow had claimed that a night alone was perfectly fine, and actually "desirable - it will be nice to get a little privacy," but Dawn was sure she'd be lonely. A surprise visit would be just what Willow would want.
And so it was that at precisely 7:26 pm on a Saturday evening, Dawn stood outside Xander's apartment, and knocked on the door. "Hi, Willow!" she yelled, cheerily. "Surprise! It's me, Dawn!"
There was a pause, then some sudden commotion behind the door. There was no direct response. Dawn was puzzled.
She knocked on the door. Louder. "Hey, Willow, it's me! Dawn! Can't I come in?"
A few seconds later, a voice answered. It sounded sort of like Willow, but had a dark undertone to it. "Dawn? Is that you? You shouldn't be here. Please leave. Now."
A surge of panic shot through Dawn as she remembered when she had last heard a similar voice. Dawn quickly cast a door-opening spell obtained by surreptitiously watching Willow a year earlier, and burst into Xander's apartment.
Willow sat at the kitchen table, her head suddenly turning towards Dawn. A hypodermic needle filled with an oily black fluid was sticking out of Willow's left arm. The witch's eyes were jet black.
Dawn opened her mouth to scream.
"Don't scream," said Willow.
Dawn stifled the scream.
"If you insist on being here, close the door behind you. Now."
Dawn did.
"Sit at the table."
Dawn did.
"Now. Don't move or say anything for the next thirty seconds. If you do, I will make you stop. Do you understand?"
Dawn nodded.
And with that, Willow shifted her attention away from Dawn to the hypodermic needle in her left arm. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and slowly pressed the plunger down. The oily fluid disappeared into one of Willow's veins.
Within seconds, arcs of energy shot across Willow's arm, and then spread across her entire body. Willow began convulsing.
Dawn's brain sent out an impulse to rush to Willow, which was quickly suppressed. [Don't,] she heard in her mind.
A few seconds later and the convulsions stopped. Willow took a few deep breaths and opened her eyes. They were green.
"Why are you here, Dawn?" asked Willow, in a soft but controlled voice.
"I wanted to be with you," said Dawn. "This is the last thing I thought I'd see." She felt herself getting angry, although she managed to keep herself under control. "Willow, I thought that after everything we'd been through, the least you could do would be to avoid dark magic."
Willow stared at her blankly, then smiled. "What, do you think I've just fallen off the magical wagon, Dawn? Hmm?"
Dawn nodded.
"I told you in one of my letters that I have to do a lot to control the dark energies my own body creates."
"Then what the hell are you doing injecting yourself with more? That's the last thing on earth you should be doing!" Dawn yelled. She quickly looked away. "I'm sorry, Willow, I didn't mean that..."
"Yes, you did," interrupted Willow. "But it's okay. Watch me and learn. Again, don't move or say anything for the next few minutes."
Dawn nodded. Willow carefully replaced the hypodermic needle in a black velvet case, and pulled a small pin out of the same case. She pricked her arm with the pin, and transferred a drop of blood from the head of the pin to a tiny vial. Then, she pulled out three small glass jars containing different-colored powders. Three times, she used a small spoon to dole a tiny amount of the powder into the vial with the drop of blood. Each time, the vial glowed a different color, first a medium red, then a medium green, then a medium blue. Each time, Willow carefully compared the color of the vial to the colors on a set of cards spread out on a table, and wrote down the number next to the color that most closely matched the vial. When she had used all the powders, Willow spent a few moments working out what Dawn saw was a weighted average: "(5R + 4G + 3B) / 12," to be precise. Willow seemed to be happy with whatever the final result was, as she relaxed a little.
"You see, Dawn, I do these chemical tests on a blood sample, compare the colors, and work out this formula, and I get this number. It's all about the numbers. Right now it's at 93, which is okay. The rule is that it needs to be between 50 and 150. If it gets below 50, I'm hypo with respect to the dark magics. This means I'll start craving dark energies, possibly uncontrollably. Like before. That's not good."
Dawn nodded.
"So, right before you walked in, I was at 41. That's because I burned a lot of energy teleporting to Sunnydale. So I needed to inject myself with some of this black crap, which, as you figured out, is purified dark energy."
"Oh." Willow heard Dawn breathe a sigh of relief. "But... you can't walk into a drugstore and buy dark magic. Don't you have to buy it on the black market? Isn't it incredibly dangerous?"
"No," said Willow. "Because all these vials really came from me. Most of the time, the number isn't below 50 - it's over 150. That means I'm hyper with respect to the dark magics, which means dark energies are building up in my body. If they get too high for too long, they'll start poisoning me, especially my brain, and..."
"That's really not good," said Dawn. She shuddered, remembering all too well the events of the past few months.
"Yeah. When that happens, I have to lance the excess energy from my body. That involves using what's sort of a magical suction cup to draw most of the excess to a single part of my body, usually my arm. Then I slice my arm open with this specially treated knife, and let the black juice drip into one of these vials. If you burst in on me tomorrow night, you might even see it."
Dawn gasped. "Wow. Doesn't that hurt?"
"Yes. But the pain sort of helps to clear the mind, actually. Not like I haven't seen worse."
Dawn put her head down. Willow shouldn't have to do that to herself. It was not fair. Not that anything ever was in Sunnydale, but still...
Dawn was interrupted by the sound of Willow's voice. "Why are you here, Dawnie?"
"I told you. I wanted to be with you. I mean, I haven't seen you in two months. Four months, actually, depending on how you count. I was hoping to have a sleepover. Just the two of us."
Willow seemed surprised.
"Yes, really," said Dawn. "Unless you'd rather be by yourself."
"No," said Willow, hurriedly. "I'm just a little surprised, that's all."
"Why?"
"Because..." Willow took a deep breath... "because of everything that happened, especially two months ago..."
"Willow, I told you not to apologize. Why can't you take 'I forgive you' for an answer?"
Willow smiled. "Okay. But does Buffy..."
"No. I wasn't sure she'd approve, and I really don't care."
Willow frowned. "If you're going to stay tonight, I'd really rather you called Buffy. I don't want her to worry. Please. For me."
Dawn frowned, but picked up her cell phone, and dialed. "Hi, Buffy, it's me... I'm fine... I'm over at Xander's with Willow... she's fine, too... Say, Buffy, can I stay overnight with Willow? Please?" A look of anger suddenly crossed Dawn's face. "Yes, Buffy. It will be - perfectly - okay to be with Willow... Yes, I'm sure. I'm really, really sure. Thanks. See you tomorrow." She hung up.
"She doesn't trust me, does she, Dawn?"
"No, and it really pisses me off."
"It's the reasonable thing to do."
"I don't care. She should have some trust, especially now. It's not just you. I'm not sure she trusts anyone at all. But it's not like she doesn't know exactly what happened. She used the chain you sent her, after all. I found her sobbing on the couch afterwards, saying 'I'm so sorry, Willow,' over and over."
Willow was taken aback. [I had no idea she'd feel that way,] Willow thought.
"Of course, a few hours later, and it was back to happy, cheery Buffy again. She's been so relentlessly upbeat and take-charge since... well since last May, it's scary. She claims she had an epiphany about how great it was to be alive. I'm not so sure."
Willow nodded.
"But I don't want to talk about Buffy anymore. Instead... could you just hold me?"
Willow did, tears streaming down her cheeks.
* * *
Willow Rosenberg and Dawn Summers stretched out on the couch, following the end of an old MASH rerun. Willow clicked off the television. She took a deep breath.
"I need to apologize to you, at least once," said Willow.
Dawn's eyes rolled backwards.
"Dawn - I know. But please. It's partly for me, I admit it. The one thing I've had the most trouble with is admitting what I tried to do to you and why. So the psychiatrists made it a condition of my returning to Sunnydale that I tell you why I wanted to destroy you, and apologize."
Dawn sighed. "I don't think I'm wearing a collar, but if you insist. Go ahead."
"Well, see Dawn - the thing about me was that - um, okay - I secretly hated myself. Completely. I hated myself when I thought I was a worthless and unlovable little girl who couldn't be a real Scooby rather than just get in the way, and couldn't even be a real nerd. I hated myself even more when I found out that I was really a demon. So I let the dark magic build up in my body after I caused that car accident with you. It was so much easier to lie to myself that I was a magic addict then face the truth that I was really a demon who was creating her own dark energies as she matured."
"Then, when Tara died in my arms, I collapsed. She had been my last defense against myself. When she died, I had nothing left. But I couldn't deal with myself... so my personality exploded."
"Yeah, I'm familiar with that part," said Dawn. "But what does this have to do with why you wanted to kill me?"
"I'm getting there. Maybe a little slowly, but I'm getting there. The 'bad me' fragment took over, and she hated herself completely. She wanted to destroy herself and everything about herself. That included you." She sobbed. "So you see, Dawnie - I tried to kill you because I was so absorbed with my own self-hatred that I wanted to destroy any reflection of me - even if she was an innocent, even if she was my... own girl... I'm so sorry, Dawnie, I'm so sorry..."
Dawn's face was emotionless. "Did you kill me, Willow?"
"No, but..."
"Didn't your evil self get destroyed in the end? Didn't your love for me and the rest of us save you, and the world for that matter?"
"Yes, but..."
"No buts. I forgive you, Willow. I love you."
"...Really?"
"Yes. And I understand you had to get this out of your system. But don't you dare ever use me as a confessional again to feel sorry for yourself."
"...Okay." Willow managed to smile.
"And one other thing, Willow?"
"Yes?"
"You don't still hate yourself, do you?"
"No. It hasn't always been easy, especially at first. But no."
"Good. But you still hate who you were. Don't try to deny it, I know it's true. You had a lot of good qualities, Willow. Even before two months ago, you were a hero, and a lot of people loved you. So you have to forgive the old you - like her, even."
Willow gasped. "I know, Dawn, but it's so hard... I keep trying..."
"It's okay. It doesn't have to be tonight."
* * *
A few hours later, after a rousing set of card games, Willow and Dawn somehow got from the rules of Cincinnati poker to the rules of magic.
"The rules used to be so easy," said Willow. "First, magic was Good. It helped people and killed the nasty vamps and demons. And, later on, if it was a bother for me to do something, or someone got angry or unhappy at something I did, magic was good, too." She looked down. "But that had problems."
"Yeah," said Dawn.
"Then magic was Bad. It was nasty and icky and addictive, and ... why I lost Tara. So I shouldn't use it. Ever. Even if I could have saved you and myself easily when the hallucinating Buffy trapped us in the basement with that demon. Even if I secretly knew that those horrible sensations in my body weren't really withdrawal symptoms. And then it was too late."
"Those were really stupid rules to live by, Willow."
"I didn't say they were good," said Willow. "I said they were easy."
"Do you have any new rules yet? Better ones?"
Willow shook her head. "Not yet. I keep trying, though. Might be close. I have this idea that you can use magic to maintain balance. You know, if magical baddies are attacking you, you can use magic to fight them. If magical baddies hurt someone, you can use magic to heal them. But if you get sick normally, or you forget a textbook, or you get in an argument with somebody, then well, you can't use magic, because that would upset the balance. And in any case, you shouldn't use more magic then you need."
Dawn nodded. "That sounds better."
"Yeah, but it's really hard to use in practice. I mean, I spent hours this afternoon trying to figure out if it was okay to use magic to help do a search on some feral demons Buffy has to fight. I mean, the demons are magical, but it was really possible that I might be able to find dirt on them just through regular Internet searching. So I could just use Google and my hacking skills, but that might take too long, and Buffy wouldn't have the information she needed, so that would mean I should use magic, and on and on. And after I finally decided it was okay to use some magic, there was the question of how much to use. Should I use magic for the whole search? Or use Google for the basic searching and only use magic to get through the good sites' security barriers? It got so complicated, and I spent so long debating what to do, that I ran out of time and had to use magic for the whole search. I felt really terrible."
Dawn giggled. "I think you're overthinking this, Willow. You must be allowed a little freedom. I'm sure the universe won't collapse if you make the wrong decision on how to search on feral demons."
"Yeah. You're probably right. I wish I could have your confidence about this sort of thing. But I'm not sure I can."
* * *
Willow and Dawn turned the lights out a little later, although sleep was still a few hours away.
"Willow," whispered Dawn, "there's something I wanted to apologize to you for, too."
"What, Dawnie? I can't imagine what it would be."
"I secretly wanted so much to save the evil version of you, even though she was so, well evil. She was so much more interesting. I was so disappointed when I had to save the crying, whiny version of you."
Willow smiled. "Yeah, she kinda did get in some good lines, didn't she? I still think the whole 'Who Moved My Cheese?' thing was great. That's cause she somehow got most of my intellect."
"I know it's bad of me to think this, but I really thought I could reach her and save her. Especially when she told me about me."
Willow sighed. "You couldn't, Dawn. She was purified hate and negativity, and couldn't possibly feel love for anyone. The few times she seemed to waver were nothing more than the other part briefly taking control. Remember that the other part could hear everything you said, too."
"I know, but... I still feel like I was so close, that I could have done something more."
"No. You weren't, and I'd know. Sorry, Dawnie, but you can't save everyone. That's the rule. Besides, you didn't hate the Good Willow version of me that much, did you?"
"No, but... God, she never did anything but cry and whine and feel sorry for herself. I almost thought she wasn't real, or a small piece of you at most. Looking back, that's probably why I tried so hard with the evil version of you."
"Yeah. She was crippled by guilt, and she didn't have much will power of her own. She could only get strength by drawing on Evil Willow, which you got her to do. So now they're both gone. As separate pieces, anyway."
"Yup. It's over."
"Say, Willow?"
"Yeah?"
"Which one of them was the real you?"
Pause. "I've been thinking a lot about it. I don't know. Neither - both parts were destroyed when the current me was created. Both - they both fused to make me. I wouldn't be me without either of them. And as for whether I'm back to the same person I was before all this happened - with some big personality changes - or a new person with her memories - it's hard to even go there."
"Sounds confusing."
"It is. No simple rules in my case. Other than that I don't look good either in black-on-black or in charcoal fur."
Dawn laughed. Willow smiled.
"One last thing, Willow?"
"What?"
"Those scales you had at the end? Are they real?"
Willow nodded. "They weren't at first - they started appearing a few weeks ago."
"I don't see them."
"I cast a spell to hide them. It would be too hard to explain to most people."
"Can you reverse it? Please?"
Willow was taken aback, but carried out the request. A line of emerald scales appeared up and down her arms. Dawn began lightly tracing them. "They're so pretty," she whispered.
[I never thought about it before, but I guess they are,] thought Willow.
* * *
Willow Rosenberg:
She's asleep now. For about ten minutes, I think. We're lying on Xander's couch, and her head is closely pressed to my chest. I'm stroking her hair, and every so often I kiss her forehead. I can her breathing softly. She's actually happy to be here, in my arms.
I've dreamed about this moment ever since I learned the truth about Dawnie, over a year ago. I dreamed that one day I would tell her the truth about who she was, and she would accept me, and we'd fall asleep in each other's arms like this.
And every time I had this dream, it turned into a nightmare. I would tell Dawn the truth about who she was, and then she'd run off screaming and try to kill herself.
The nightmare prevented me from ever telling Dawn the truth, even though it would have done so much to take away her inner pain and fear. Then the nightmare took over completely.
But it's over now.
Too bad there are other nightmares still out there. But I'll deal with them later. Tonight there are only sweet dreams.
* * *
Next: "Your Knight in Shining Armor"