Chapter Seven

          "Hello?"

          "Giles!"

          Flipping on his bedside lamp Giles glanced at his clock. 1:18 am. Pushing himself up and leaning against his headboard Giles tucked the phone between his cheek and shoulder, wrapping his robe around his shoulders and standing out of bed. "Spike, it's one-thirty in the morning."

          "I know," the bleached vampire sounded frantic on the other end. "Have you heard from Willow?"

          "Willow? No, why?"

          "I can't find her anywhere."

          Now in his kitchen, Giles flipped on the light and stopped in his steps. His brow furrowed in sudden confusion. "What do you mean, you can't find her?"

          "I woke up and she wasn't anywhere in the house and I thought maybe she had a nightmare and went out to get some fresh air but there wasn't a note. I tried her cell but she left it here. I called the others but none of them have heard from her."

          "Alright, Spike, just try and calm down. I'm sure she just went out and forget to leave a note. How long has she been missing?"

          There was a pause. "I woke up around one."

          "So it's only been a half hour? Why don't you give her another twenty minutes," Giles suggested. "I'm sure she'll walk through the door at any minute."

          Spike took an unneeded breath before saying, "Okay. Twenty minutes."

          "And if she's not home by two, at the latest, give me a call and we'll go out and look for her, alright?"

          "Yeah. Thanks, Giles."

          "Anytime, Spike."

          Setting the cordless phone down on the kitchen table Giles let out a breath. Willow missing? Preposterous, Giles thought. She simply took a walk and forgot to leave a note. Entirely understandable seeing as she suffered such a traumatic ordeal just earlier that evening. Satisfied that Willow, whom he loved like his own daughter, was perfectly fine Giles went back upstairs to his bedroom and climbed back into his bed, shutting over the lamp and closing his eyes.

          The night was warm and still. The park empty and silent. Willow walked distractedly, her hands in her pockets and her head lowered. Against her bare shoulders a light breeze settled, ruffling her hair. Above her the streetlights glowed a harsh, iridescent yellow that shadowed her steps but Willow's eyes were focused at some unseen spot atop the sidewalk. Thoughts bare, mind clear of everything but its own blackness Willow wasn't aware of where her feet at led her until they came to a stop.

          Lifting her eyes she stood confused for a moment before realizing her surroundings. Behind her the iron gate hung ajar. Before her sat awkwardly climbing oaks, their limbs stretching out over a barren landscape dotted scarcely with unevenly place headstones. Dread leapt behind Willow's eyes as tears slipped down her cheeks. She had been here only once and swore never to return.

          Buffy had called it the Faceless Cemetery because all of the headstones, of which there were hardly two dozen, held no names only epitaphs and dates. It had been Buffy's place of escape, where she could truly be alone and, for a short time, step out of her destiny. Peace of spirit was what Buffy always strived to find and only in the Faceless Cemetery could she find it. No names meant no faces and no faces meant no eyes. No identity. Buffy could be anonymous amongst the nameless headstones and that's why she had asked Willow, on the only occasion in which the redhead had stepped foot beyond that gate, to be buried amongst them beneath a nameless headstone. Buffy wished to have, in death, that which she was denied in life: anonymity.

          Starring down at the headstone that read simply, 'A Destiny Fulfilled' Willow collapsed in a heap of tears. She hadn't gone to Buffy's funeral, hadn't the strength to say goodbye. Now, after two years, she had finally found the courage to let Buffy go.

          Time stood still and Willow lost herself in her tears. A cold touch against her neck woke her from the memories she was wrapped in. Opening her eyes Willow found herself once more in the park, the Faceless Cemetery a shadow on the distant horizon. Not knowing how she had gotten there Willow lifted her eyes and gasped. Pools of copper starred back at her, a touch caressing her arm.

          With trembling lips and watery eyes Willow admitted, "I feel so lost."

          "I'll always find you," was the whispered response.

          "I know," Willow sighed. "You always do, Angelus."