CRADLE
Disclaimer, etc. as on first chapter.
A/N: Right, here we go. Let's see if Giles has figured out how to stop this thing yet. Prepare for some Willow angst and some minor B/S goodness , and something resembling a plan. Oh, and a special guest, too :D
Cradle
Chapter Fourteen
Four days later…
Willow stood in front of the bathroom mirror, leaning heavily on the sink for support. She stared at her reflection in the glass, barely recognising the gaunt face that gazed back at her. She only knew it was her own reflection by the way it followed her movement; if not for that, it could have been anyone looking out of the mirror. She sighed and bent down to splash cold water on her face, attempting to wake herself up from a long nap.
She drained the sink and looked up at the mirror again, semi-hoping she might finally recognise herself this time. Unfortunately, it was the same face as before. She attempted a smile, wondering if that would help, but found it almost impossible, her facial muscles plainly refusing to form anything more than a grim smirk. She gave up. That was when she noticed it.
Reflected in the glass, apparently sitting behind her on top of a wicker basket, was Tara. She was smiling serenely, wearing the same outfit as the last time Willow had seen her, and seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she was meant to be dead. Willow's grief-ridden brain didn't register this, however. She smiled for what felt like the first time in years and turned around to face Tara in the flesh.
Her smile fell and turned into a frown of confusion. There was nothing there – just an empty, Tara-less wicker basket. Silently chastising herself for being so silly as to get her hopes up, Willow shook her head and turned to leave. She caught sight of the mirror again as she did so. Tara was still there, in the same position as before.
Again, Willow turned to find nothing. She was onto this game now, and yes, sure enough, there was Tara in the mirror, but not in the room with her. She whipped her head between the glass and the room behind her a few times, wondering if speed was of the essence. In the back of her mind, she knew it couldn't be real, that it was only her head playing tricks on her, or the Magic's way of driving her slowly insane. The hope that Tara might be alive somewhere, however, overruled this logic.
She started getting dizzy and finally stopped, conceding to stare into the mirror. Tara hadn't moved very far, if at all, and hadn't said anything, but she blinked, and cocked her head to the side a little curiously, as if she didn't understand what the mirror-Willow was doing. Willow finally realised that it couldn't be possible for her to only exist on one side of a mirror and was now beginning to wonder if she'd really gone mad.
"Xander!" she called, frantically. Her friend came running into the room from his position outside – he'd been waiting so he could help her back to the room when she'd finished – with a worried expression on his face.
"What is it, Will?" He'd expected her to have fallen, perhaps, or hurt herself. Finding her apparently unharmed worried him even more. She beckoned for him to stand next to her and pointed at the mirror, not taking her eyes off it.
"Look in that mirror and tell me what you see…"
He looked at her a little curiously, but, seeing that she was serious, obeyed. "Just you and the bathroom beyond."
"Nothing else?"
"Nothing else. No Wonderland or White Rabbit."
"Are you sure? You don't see… someone else? Not you, I mean…" She took a deep breath, and decided that Xander of all people might believe her. "You… you don't see Tara?"
Xander made a show of peering closer, to cover the fact that he was now very scared she was losing her mind. "No, Will. Just you, me and the bathroom."
"Oh…"
"Come on. I'll get you a drink, okay?" prodded Xander, trying to get her out of the room. She nodded numbly as he manoeuvred her out of the bathroom. The mirror-Tara watched them leave, still silent.
Back in the bedroom, Xander sat Willow at the end of the bed and promptly vanished to fetch her some coffee, debating with himself whether or not to tell Giles about her ghost-seeing episode. Once he was out of earshot, Willow, on a whim, struggled to the dresser and sat down, then concentrated on not paying attention to it. As expected, when she looked up at the mirror, Tara was there again, this time standing behind her. Willow resisted the urge to turn around.
As of yet, the mirror-Tara hadn't said anything. Willow decided to initiate some form of conversation, not entirely sure of what would happen. "H-hey…"
Tara smiled again. "Hey."
Willow breathed a sigh of relief. "Y-you can talk…"
"Of course I can talk, Willow."
"W-why can't I see you?"
In the mirror, Tara placed a hand on her shoulder. Willow felt a slight tingling, but nothing more. "Standard mirror-universe rules, I'm afraid. The Powers allowed me to go back to the alternative Sunnydale so I could talk to you. It's easier for me to contact you this way than it is to manifest as a ghost.; s-something about the balance of power."
Willow nodded, understanding. "I see… So, like, this is the more powerful world and that one-" she placed her palm flat on the mirror "-is less so? Because it's like a copy?" Tara nodded. She swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat. "W-where are you, Tara? I mean, are you h-happy?"
"Yes, Will. Don't worry." Mirror-Tara removed the hand from her shoulder, leaving real-Willow with an inexplicable cold sensation there, and she adopted a more serious expression. "But I-I saw what you did. That doesn't make me happy."
"B-but I did that for you, baby!" protested Willow. "I know it was wrong, but I was trying to avenge you! I just wanted to make it right again. I even tried to bring you back…"
"I know; I felt that. It wasn't the right thing to do, though, Will; you know that. It achieved nothing… well… apart from the way you are now." Willow knew she was right, and tears flowed freely down her cheeks. "Y-you're dying, Willow. Don't you see that?"
"M-maybe it's for the best," she sobbed. "At least I could be with you again."
"I don't know if you could…" admitted Tara, a little reluctantly.
"Wh… what do you mean?"
Tara sighed. "Because I was killed by human means, for nothing, I got sent to a Heaven dimension. Just like Buffy was sent to one because she sacrificed herself for the world. B-but… if this Magic kills you, honey, I don't know where you'll end up…" She paused, trying to think how best to explain it. "If the Powers decide that you had no control over it, then you'll be fine… but they might not see it that way… they might decide that, because you absorbed it in the first place, of your own free will, that it was all self-inflicted… They could see it as suicide. A-and in the Bible, people who committed suicide were punished…"
"But I'm not Christian-"
"It doesn't matter… all afterlife dimensions follow the same rules."
Willow's eyes went wide. "Y-you mean I could get sent to a Hell dimension?!"
Tara nodded slowly. "Y-yeah… I mean, it depends on how the Powers feel at the time, but… yeah…"
Willow attempted to stop her sobs and ended up making choked noises in the effort. "H-how do I… can I stop it? The Magic in me?"
"Only you can decide that, Will. If you want to get better, then I know you'll be strong enough to. But you have to want it."
"I think I want it… I don't… I don't feel anything any more. Just numb."
Tara looked thoughtful. "All right… e-even if you don't want it for yourself, want it for your friends. Think of how many people Buffy's already lost who loved her – her mom, Angel, Giles, even Spike… Some of them may have come back, but it's the losing them in the first place that's bad. And Dawn – she lost her sister and her mom in the same year. And… and Xander… If Xander loses you, I don't know what could happen. You'd be failing him, Will…" Willow nodded, but still didn't seem completely convinced. Tara tried one final idea. "And if you w-won't help yourself for them, do it for me…"
"But you're not here-"
"No. But I'm watching over you… and I c-can't stand seeing you like this."
Willow seemed to be finally convinced, her tears having subsided. "O-okay… I'm gonna try. Really…"
"You promise?"
"I promise. A-and however and whenever I die, I'm gonna make sure I end up where you are…"
Tara smiled. "That's my girl…" She suddenly looked up, as if she was being called. "I… I gotta go now. There's only so long I can stay."
The redhead nodded. "I understand. Will I see you again?"
"I don't know. If you need me, they might allow me back."
"Guess I'd better let you go, huh?" Tara nodded. "Oh! Can I ask you something?"
Tara silently conferred with the Powers above her. "Yes, but make it quick."
"This Magic. It's real hard to fight it sometimes, and I just… can't seem to get rid of it… I was wondering if… if you knew how to…"
"You… you need to purge it. It's the only way. You run the risk of getting addicted again, but there's no other method of getting it out of you. And you need to purge it somewhere it can't hurt anyone."
"Makes sense…" She smiled. "Th-thanks."
Tara smiled back. "No problem. Now I really must go. If I stay here any longer the mirror universe'll shatter and everyone'll be reflection-less forever." Willow giggled; it felt good to laugh. In the mirror, Tara kissed the top of her head, causing her entire head to tingle, and murmured into her hair. "Goodbye, Will. Love you..."
"Goodbye, Tara…" With that, a bright light appearing the ceiling of the mirror-universe bedroom, and enveloped them both. When it cleared, Tara was gone. Willow, however, didn't feel sad about it. Knowing that Tara was in a better place, and knowing now that she could defeat the Magic inside her, made her feel ever more determined to get well again. She stared her reflection in the eyes, waiting for the tell-tale black flicker that meant the Magic was awake. "Okay, Mister Dark Magic," she muttered. "Only one of us can have this body, and I was here first… You're goin' down…"
At this point, Xander re-emerged carrying a mug of coffee for her. "Who's goin' down?"
"Oh… nothing." She indicated the mug. "That for me?"
"Yeah."
"Thanks." She grabbed it and downed the entire thing in one, hoping it would give her a much-needed energy boost.
"Whoa, Will… easy on the caffination…"
"Sorry. Really needed that." She placed the now-empty mug on the dresser. Xander had noticed that she was suddenly more alert, but he didn't want to jinx it by saying anything. "Could you take me downstairs? I have something I need to tell everyone."
"Sure," he said, helping her out of the chair and picking her up. "But you'll have to wait a while. Buffy's gone to see Spike." He was only partially successful at keeping the contempt from his voice, but, instead of dwelling on the vampire, he instead focussed on the fact that Willow was being positive and proactive towards recovering, and headed downstairs with her.
Buffy arrived at the crypt early in the evening; it was still light, but overcast enough that the sun couldn't get through. She reached the heavy doors just as Clem was leaving; the wrinkly demon smiled at her in greeting and then headed on his way, leaving the door open for her. She assumed by his actions that Spike was, in fact, in.
The door creaked as she pushed it, and she closed it quietly after herself. The sound of the television drifted up from the basement, warbled and mangled voices, then a familiar hissing noise as static took over the picture. She headed down the ladder to the sounds of violent banging, presumably Spike trying to get the show back.
She dropped down into the basement to find him kicking the back of the television in frustration, muttering curses under his breath, and stifled a laugh. He hadn't noticed her come in. She approached slowly, then said: "You know, I always wondered how good the reception was down here. Guess now I know…"
Spike looked up, surprise and joy at seeing her on his face. The sound of the static soon distracted him again, though. "It was fine before I left. Clem must've been messin' with it."
She rolled her eyes. "Sure. Blame Clem…" She examined the television, her head cocked to the side. "Sometimes, all these things need is a little TLC…" She bent down, pressed one of the buttons on the front ponderously, then smacked the side of it as hard as she could. The picture flickered back almost as if it had never gone away, and Spike stared at her, not sure whether to admire that she'd fixed it, or be annoyed that she'd fixed it before him.
"Uh… thanks."
Buffy stood up again and examined what he'd been watching. "Oh. Passions. If I'd realised you were watching that I wouldn't have bothered."
"Oi," he muttered. "It's quality programming, is that… Anyway, what brings you here?"
"I was wondering if you had any idea how we can defeat this Magic. Giles has been through every book he owns and we've found nothing."
"Sorry, love. Can't help you there." She was obviously thwarted and about to leave, so he decided to try and detain her. He rarely saw her and what little time she'd spare him lately was better than nothing, but this was really too little time. "But, um, from what I know about magic – which isn't much, I admit, and after that shaman's trials I'd rather have as little to do with it as possible – from what I know, I'd say we need someone really strong in the magics to stop it. A god, maybe… or a bloody powerful witch…"
"I've had enough dealings with gods to last a lifetime, thank you," she said. "But a witch…"
"I reckon Red's powerful enough. If she can end the world, she can definitely-"
"No. No way. I don't want her near this thing."
Spike shrugged nonchalantly, but Buffy could tell he'd obviously forgotten about Willow's condition and was now regretting bringing it back up. "Can't 'elp you, then."
"Well… thanks anyway…" She turned to leave, then remembered something. "Oh. Almost forgot. Present from Dawn." She pulled a small, wrapped package from her pocket and threw it at him. He caught it as it hit him in the chest, and winced.
"What's this?"
"Dunno… but I advise caution. She's been experimenting in the kitchen."
"Ah. Well, it's not like she can poison me, but thanks for the warning…" He set the small package on top of the television. Buffy stared thoughtfully at him for a few seconds, wondering what was bothering her… then realised. He'd winced when the package hit him. Which could only mean his wounds still hurt… and they should have healed by now.
"Spike, uh… exactly how badly were you hurt in those trials?" He shrugged. Buffy wasn't taking that for an answer. She knew he'd question her motives when she did what she was about to do, but her curiosity was too much. She strode purposefully over, turned him around so his back was to her, and lifted the back of his shirt, then breathed in through her teeth at the sight that greeted her. The abrasions were almost as bad as they'd been the first time she saw them. Buffy reached to touch one and Spike arched his back away from her instinctively. "Jesus, Spike, didn't you dress these?" He muttered something she didn't catch. "What?"
"I said, I couldn't reach…"
She pulled the shirt back down and moved to face him. "Well, why didn't you ask Clem? No, wait, I know… male pride. Okay, so why not Dawn?"
"Didn't want her to see them…" he said. "Anyway, they should have healed by now, with or without bandages."
Buffy shook her head exasperatedly and went off in search of something resembling a First Aid kit. She came back with a handful of bandages and some antiseptic. "Shirt off. Now." Spike grumbled under his breath, but did as she asked. As expected, those wounds at the front were as bad as the back. "You couldn't reach the front either, huh?" He didn't say anything. "Yeah, right, Spike… you're just adding physical pain to the emotional torment, aren't you? Or… trying to distract from one to the other." Again, there was no answer, but she knew she was right. "It's so not worth it, you know…"
He watched her as she opened the bottle of antiseptic and laid the bandages nearby for use later. "You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" he said. "Fightin' with me to stop yourself thinking about what you had."
"This isn't about me any more, Spike." She dabbed the antiseptic onto a clean rag and approached. "Now, this is going to sting."
"I think I can- OW!" he started, cutting himself off with a yelp. "Watch it!"
"Sorry, but I warned you. What, the Big Bad can't handle a little more pain?"
He gritted his teeth. "All right… go on…" Buffy worked her way over all the various cuts, bruises, and burns, this time with a slightly gentler approach, stopping for a breather whenever he winced. In the back of her mind, she was pretty sure that vampires couldn't get infected, but she wasn't going to take a chance. Besides, she was getting some perverse joy out of making him squirm. At the same time, though, she wondered why she cared enough to even help.
After a few minutes, she was finished, and reached for the roll of bandages. That part was easier, and once she'd patched him up to a suitable degree, he let out a breath that he seemed to have been holding for a long time, completely unnecessarily. "There," she said. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"Easy for you to say, Slayer…" Buffy put the remaining bandages and the bottle of antiseptic back where she'd found them and came back.
"Now, please tell me you have a clean shirt…"
He gestured vaguely towards the back of the crypt. "Yeah. Think there's one over there somewhere. I'll find it later."
"Good. I'll be back in a couple of days if there's any developments on the Magic situation. But, for God's sake, get Clem to change those bandages, okay?"
He nodded. "Will do, love." She doubted he meant it, but accepted his answer anyway. "Thanks…"
She turned to leave again, satisfied that nothing else needed doing. She was two steps up the ladder, when Spike rushed to the other side of it, facing her through the rungs and placing one cold hand over hers. Looking into his eyes from that position, Buffy wondered briefly whether she'd resist if he decided to kiss her. The opportunity to find out never came, however, because he removed his hand just as curiously, having lost whatever inner battle he was fighting. With a nod of his head, he indicated she could go.
Buffy fled the crypt immediately before she did something she'd regret, slamming the door after her. Down in the basement, a practically mummified Spike listened to her footsteps as they vanished, and wondered, not for the first time, exactly what the Hell was going on between them. Sighing, he decided Buffy would tell him when she knew, and went off in search of a semi-clean shirt.
Three hours later…
After a short and pointless patrol, Buffy returned home, finding everyone waiting for her. The coffee table was covered in open books and scrawled notes, and everyone was seated in various places around the room. All eyes turned to her as she entered.
"Okay, guys," she asked curiously. "What's the what?"
Giles removed his glasses and cleaned them for no apparently obvious reason. "We, uh, we have a plan."
Buffy sat herself down on the arm of the couch. "Great. Let's hear it."
Willow, to her surprise, was the first to start explaining. Buffy was even more surprised by the confidence in her voice. "I know how we can defeat the Magic. At least, I think I do."
"Okay; spill."
Willow didn't want to mention her encounter with mirror-Tara, so she chose her words carefully. "Well, I… I worked out that the only way to get better – to get this stuff outta me – is to purge it… I have to just expel it. So we all figured that maybe purging it into the bigger Magic would make harnessing it… easier."
Buffy looked thoughtful. "It's logical, I guess… but I don't wanna put you in any unnecessary danger, Will. You're not strong enough."
"I know, Buffy. But I'm not going to get any stronger by sitting here…"
Giles added, "I admit, it doesn't sound like the best of ideas… but I've thought this through, and Willow is correct. The Magic that's out there is, as you've said, very annoyed… and that may be because it knows there's some part of itself missing – the part that's in Willow. Maybe if we put it together again, it'll calm down."
"Maybe it won't…" countered Buffy. "It's too dangerous, Giles."
"I'm not debating that fact," he said, adamantly. "But there appears to be no other choice. If Willow doesn't purge the remains of her Magic, it'll only get stronger within her. And if she merely expels it somewhere else, we'll have two lots of it to deal with. In any case, we need it altogether to be able to re-capture it."
Buffy still wasn't sure. Anya merely nodded, knowing there was no other choice. Xander finally chimed in. "If we're careful, Willow will be fine. And we'll all be with her; it's not like she has to do this alone."
"All right," she said, conceding defeat now that she was outnumbered. "So it's the only option. Any ideas exactly how we're going to harness it once it's back together?"
"The only thing I can think of," said Anya, "is to take all of the books it was taken from to it, and hope it moves back to its old home."
"Sensible," noted Buffy.
Dawn, who had been quiet for the talk, spoke up. "This sounds like a big ol' Scooby world-saving deal." Everyone murmured amongst themselves. "Do I get to help?"
Buffy was going to disagree, but then she remembered that Dawn had shown considerable ability as a fighter, and was certainly brave enough to help them out. "We'll see. I have to come up with a plan, first." Dawn folded her arms, adamant she was going to be left out again. "There's not much time before this thing hits Sunnydale, guys. Let's all just sleep on it and confer tomorrow, okay?"
There was a general noise of agreement, and everyone filed to their various sleeping arrangements. Nobody slept, however, their brains working overtime to come up with feasible plans. Buffy, running over every possibility in her mind, had a horrible feeling that whatever they decided, it wouldn't be that straightforward. Where magic was concerned, nothing was predictable. She also had an inkling that, no matter how much she argued with herself over it, she'd have to include Spike into the proceedings, either as an extra fighter, or to protect Dawn if it got too much for her to handle.
It seemed impossible to get away from him. Maybe life would be easier if she would just accept his presence in her existence, and stop fighting the fact that she was continually drawn back to him. But then again, since when had life on the Hellmouth ever been easy?
To be continued…
*dramatic music* Anyone else get the impression it's really not going to be that easy to deal with this thing? Hehe. Okay, next chapter will be their plan, and possibly some Xander/Spike conflict at long last… Keep those reviews coming, people :D
