Chapter 2 - A Watcher Considers

I drive away from Revello Drive feeling better than I thought I could. Last night I felt as if the world had ended. I brought Buffy and Spike back here, and heard Buffy begging Spike not to leave her. I left them in her room and went downstairs to think for a while. To think, and wish I had some of my best malt to ease the pain.

Dawn was gone. In the end, there was nothing we could do. There was no sign of Riley when we emerged from the Magic Box, and I found myself wondering where he had gone. That's something I need to find out later. I want to hear the whole story of what happened with the Orb, but the time wasn't right and I was too angry to listen.

Xander had brought Spike's car from the Magic Box, and Anya picked him up after he dropped it off. I think they were going home together, but to whose home, I have no idea.

I sat there and thought last night, listening carefully for any sound that might alert me to the two upstairs doing something stupid. Both seemed so distraught that I felt I couldn't leave the house. The thing that surprised me was that their reactions so exactly mirrored each other's. There was nothing to choose between them. It's odd, really, when you consider that Dawn was Buffy's sister, and yet she was nothing to Spike. Even if she wasn't truly Buffy's sister, we know there is a blood relationship.

The events of the night surprised me a little. Well, maybe they didn't. By the time I went upstairs to go to bed, it was quite obvious what was going on in Buffy's bedroom. After considering it for a few seconds, it seemed less surprising. I know Spike loves her, and Buffy's told me recently that she loves him. They were both upset, and they turned to one another. So, maybe it wasn't so surprising that they looked to one another for physical consolation.

It was late when I went upstairs. I wasn't sure whether the bed was made up in Buffy's old room, so I checked Dawn's first. I was exhausted by then, by grief and the lateness of the hour, and I wanted to get to sleep quickly, so I decided to make do with the room with the Boy Bands and the Parental Advisory poster. Yet, when I opened the door, it was all gone. Dawn's bed, her clothes, her posters, everything, all gone.

I must have stood in the doorway for several minutes just letting the finality of it wash through me. It wasn't just that she was gone, it was as if she had never been here. I tried to remember her, remember my earliest memories of her, and found I couldn't do it. I mean, I could remember recalling something, but it no longer seemed real. The power of the Key must have been responsible for everything we knew about Dawn's past. When it was gone, so was everything it had created.

Then there was this morning. I got up fairly early, and went downstairs to get some breakfast. I'd have preferred tea, really, but there's no proper kettle. I mean, an electric kettle's just a necessity of life, and the tea in the cupboard was fruit flavoured and herbal. I'm afraid I'm old fashioned enough to expect my tea to taste of, well, tea, not blackcurrant and rosehip. I put on some coffee instead, made some toast, and went through the routine of eating breakfast.

I heard movement above when I started to climb the stairs determined to shower, and was surprised by the sight I saw. A very naked Spike was moving behind Buffy who was, at least, clad in a wrap. They were standing in the doorway of Dawn's room, seeing what I had noticed the night before.

The appearance of Buffy's face was surprising. She looked remarkably normal. I'm not sure exactly what I expected, maybe a toned down version of the night before, a blotchy face, swollen, tear-stained eyes. But no, what I saw was acceptance. I've been proud of Buffy many times, but I don't think I've ever felt more proud of her that I did at that moment. Not that it was easy. I mean, seeing the evidence of their state of undress, and the familiarity of Spike's hands on her, was something I would really rather leave to the imagination.

When I shut the bedroom door behind them, I heard the laughter start. I had been surprised before, but I was nothing short of amazed at that. I knew the laughter was at my expense, but I didn't care. It sounded so joyful. Something in the tone of laughter reminded me of Dawn's words the night before. She told them they had to be together, that it was the only way they would be happy.

I once heard a theory, well, maybe it was more of a religious belief, that said that happiness could only be attained if you simply handed your life over to a higher power. Once you were freed from making decisions, simply letting your god take over, you could be truly happy. Now, I've never adhered to such a belief, but, if ever there was evidence of the veracity of such a concept, I think I saw it this morning.

Not that I think it will last. There are problems they both need to solve before they can be happy with one another. One night of passion can't possibly erase all that has gone on between those two. It's another thing for me to worry about. I know, I'm her Watcher, not her father, but if he hurts her ….. Even as I think that, I realise that the hurt thus far is all on the other side. Well, maybe not all, but that's the way the scale is tipped. And I remember Spike trying to leave her last night, telling her he would stay in another room, all the while his own need for her was as great as hers for him. He was willing to be there for her, but to give her space. She was the one who insisted, wouldn't let him go, and he couldn't deny her.

I drive home, determined to change my clothes, then call the hospital. The news about Willow has been unchanged for a week. Her injuries were horrific, and she's still bandaged, so we've yet to see the evidence of the extent of her injuries, but there is apparently no reason for her to remain unconscious. They're hopeful that she will come round eventually, and I've been waiting for the first sign so I can do what I must.

The coven already knew that she had succumbed to the dark side of her nature when I contacted them. They have a member ready to travel here at the first sign of a recovery.

I wish I knew what happened with Willow. I'm sure it wasn't as simple as it seemed, but without having had the chance to talk to Willow, I just don't know.

I pull on clean clothes gratefully, and make some tea before sitting down with the phone in my hand. As an afterthought, I put the phone down, and go into the dining room where Willow's lap-top sits as she left it.

When we first returned from England, and we heard that Spike was going to be working at the High School, Willow hacked into the school computer to find out what his personnel record said. It was surprisingly detailed, giving him an employment history appropriate to his apparent age. I remember what she did, and I decide to try to find out what the records on Dawn are now. I may not like computers, but I'm not stupid. I manage to get into the database surprisingly quickly, but, maybe the fact that it's Saturday has something to do with it.

I check the student roll, and there's no sign of a Dawn Summers. Apparently she's been erased from the collective memory of the school. I wonder how it was done. Was she simply obliterated, as in, never really existed, or has there been a plausible explanation for her disappearance. I check the historical records, and it looks like she simply never existed.

It occurs to me that if Dawn's gone, there's no reason for Buffy and Spike to work at the school. I look up their personnel records, and I'm relieved to note that they are both still employees of the school. At least Buffy doesn't have to worry about money for a while. And, if there's no record of her having had a sister, there's no explanation to be made for her disappearance.

I log off the computer, and pick up the phone, dialling the number I now know by heart.

"Good morning, I'm enquiring about the condition of Miss Willow Rosenberg," I tell the voice who answers. "It's Rupert Giles."

"Ah, Mr. Giles, I'm glad you called. We tried to contact you last night, but there was no reply. Miss Rosenberg's parents, as you know, requested that you be the primary contact for the hospital while they were out of the country on business, and there has been a significant change in her condition. She's not conscious yet, but she's showing distinct signs that she's improving. It would help her immensely if there were a friendly voice for her to hear as she wakes. Of course, she won't be able to see anything, as her eyes are still completely bandaged."

"That's good news," I say, "I'll be there soon. Has Mr. Harris contacted you this morning?"

"No, yours is the first call today."

"I see," I reply before ending the call.

I check my watch. It's already ten thirty, so it'll be seven thirty in the evening in England. I dial the number for the coven, and I'm put through to my main contact there. The call is short, simply a request for the service we suspected would be needed. Someone is coming to remove Willow's power. I'm doing it with a heavy heart, because she's already so damaged, so injured, that it makes her physical recovery even less likely than it is now, and that's without the possibility of psychological damage. But there is no option.

I call Xander, but get no reply. I call the Magic Box, and Anya answers in her own inimitable manner.

"Magic Box, where all your Magical needs are met."

"Good morning, Anya," I reply. "It's Rupert. Is Xander there?"

"No," she answers, but it's obvious she's not planning on saying more.

"Can you tell me where I might reach him? I tried his home, but there was no reply."

There's silence for a few seconds. Her resolve crumbles, and she answers.

"He's at my place. Do you have the number?"

I confirm that I do, indeed, have that number.

I dial, and after several rings, a very sleepy Xander answers.

"Good morning," I begin. "It's Giles."

"Morning, G Man," he answers remarkably brightly. His voice immediately changes to something a good deal more sober.

"How is she?"

"Buffy? Better than I'd ever have thought possible. Tell me, how do you remember Dawn?"

He stutters a little at the question, then there's silence.

"I remember the recent stuff, but all the memories of before, they're gone. I mean, I remember having the memories, but they don't seem real any more." His voice sounds nothing short of amazed.

"Exactly. Now that the Key is gone, the memories created about Dawn have gone too. It's the same for Buffy. I think that's making things more … bearable. Spike too."

"What happened about him last night? Did he go home eventually?"

"No, he stayed. Buffy wouldn't let him go."

"But, he slept in another room, didn't he?" He sounds like he's begging for agreement.

"No, as I said, Buffy wouldn't let him go. They spent the night together."

"He took advantage of her! I thought he was changing, but I was wrong. He .."

"He didn't take advantage. If anything, that's what she did. He tried to leave her, but she wouldn't listen. She loves him. He loves her. They took whatever solace was available. I'm not sure I think it's a viable relationship, but their actions were eminently comprehensible."

"And you didn't stop this because?"

"Because they are two adults." My voice had become louder. "Because no one was forced to do anything. Because it's really none of my business. And, that's not why I called."

That seemed to take a while to sink in.

"It wasn't?"

"No, I called because of Willow. I called the hospital, and they say there's been an improvement. She's not awake, but they think she's getting closer. They want her to have someone there. I'm going soon, but it'd be good to have some company, …."

"Of course," he muttered. "I'll shower and meet you there."

I pottered about the flat for a few minutes, washing up my dishes, tidying. In truth I was making sure I wouldn't have to spend too long alone with Willow. I know I shouldn't feel that way, but seeing her, so tiny, even swathed in bandages as she is, she seems so tiny - so helpless, it's heartbreaking. Then there's the whole guilt thing. I fought to have her back home. And, she tried to kill Dawn. If she had succeeded, …. I don't think I could have lived with the guilt.

I had delayed as long as I reasonably could, and I slipped on my jacket to leave. My hand was actually on the doorknob when the phone rang. I picked up, and heard Anya's voice on the other end. Never one for preamble, she launched straight into the point of the call.

"I've just had a visit from the military. Military police they called themselves. They're looking for Riley. Apparently he's gone AWOL, and they're looking for anyone who might hide him. They got wind of him coming here yesterday, and now they're on their way to your place. I got the impression they're also sending someone to Buffy's. I called her first."

"Riley, AWOL? I muse into the phone. I suppose grief might do that. Grief and guilt." I snap back to reality. "What did you tell them?"

"Well, I didn't tell them about Dawn being the Key and being swallowed up by a source of purple energy! I just said he was here, and he muttered something about his wife, but didn't make sense. I said he left. Which is all true as far as it goes."

"Good," I reply, my thoughts racing. "Do me a favour, Anya. See if you can reach Xander before he gets to the hospital. Let him know what's happening."

I'm interrupted by a knock on the door. "It looks as thought I might be delayed."