"Tara."

She nearly jumped out of her skin when Buffy said her name. She had hoped nobody would be home when she got there. But Buffy and Xander were both sitting in the living room. She tried to act casual, but she had a feeling she wasn't doing a good job of it.

"Hey, guys," she said. "Wh-what's up?"

"I wanted to ask you the same thing," Buffy said. The two of them stood and approached Tara in the foyer. "That stutter usually means you're hiding something. That's something you might want to work on."

"It's-it's nothing," Tara said, heading for the stairs.

"We're just concerned, Tara," Buffy said. Tara stopped on the first step. "Willow may be bizarrely oblivious to it, but you've been acting weird lately. Even before your head became intimate friends with Mabel Henderson's tombstone."

"And the last time you were hiding something, it involved demons going invisible," Xander said. Tara sighed and sat on the steps. Buffy sat next to her and Xander stood, leaning on the railing.

"You don't have to worry about that," Tara said. "That won't happen again. I just…" She looked at them and they were watching her intently, waiting for an explanation.  "The headache I had this morning…still have…it wasn't because of last night. I've been having headaches almost constantly for the past week or so. I was actually just coming back from the doctor's office."

"Is something wrong?" Buffy said, a slight panic entering her voice. "Because my mom…it started with headaches."

"No, it's not that. The doctor said I'm perfectly healthy," she said.  "He said the only other explanation is stress, except that my blood pressure is normal, so I don't appear like I'm stressed."

"How bad are these headaches?" Buffy asked.

"Sometimes just a dull throbbing. Sometimes blinding and nauseatingly painful."

"So if it's not medical, then what is it?" Xander asked.

"I don't know…it might be…" Tara trailed off.

"You think it's magic, don't you?" Buffy asked, already knowing the answer. "Who would do this to you? I mean, you're probably the only person out of all of us that doesn't have any enemies."

"Well, there was this girl in my 19th century literature course that gave me this look," Tara said jokingly. "But I think she thought I was somebody else."

"Seriously, Tara, we can help you find out what's going on," Buffy said. "If there's a demon or some evil witch involved…"

"No, it's okay," Tara interrupted. "I'll work on it on my own. It's probably nothing major. They might just go away on their own."

"Are you sure?" Xander asked.

"Yeah, I am," Tara said. She stood, ready to head upstairs. "If I need help, I promise I'll let you know."

"What about Willow? You've gotta tell her," Xander said. "Sooner or later she'll figure out that something's wrong."

"I don't want her to worry. I mean, her birthday's tomorrow, and with the possibility of magic being involved it would be better if I know exactly what's going on before telling her," Tara said. She looked to them pleadingly. "Please don't tell her."

"Okay," Buffy said, knowing what it's like to have to work things out on your own. Tara nodded her head and went upstairs.

"This is bad," Xander said, looking up the stairs still.

"I know. This could cause problems between Willow and Tara," Buffy said.

"No. Not that," he said, looking to Buffy in a panic. "I forgot Willow's birthday!"

"You? Forgot Willow's birthday?" Buffy asked. Xander nodded his head. "How long have you known her? And we're having a party, which we told you about two weeks ago. You helped us pick up the party supplies."

"I know!" Xander exclaimed. "And I don't have a present. God, I'm an idiot."

"Not to worry," Buffy said. She put on her jacket and took Xander by the arm. "You are in luck. I am not only the slayer of vampires and other hideous creatures. I am also the slayer of shopping. We'll find Willow a present in record time."

"You promise?" Xander asked as they headed out the door. Buffy continued to assure Xander of her shopping skills, putting her concern for Tara on the backburner...for now.

* * *

The glow of the computer screen lit up her face as she scrolled through the webpages. So far Tara hadn't found much about her headaches. Her main angle of research was curses, but nothing matched her problem close enough. There was a spell that looked promising. It helped track curses. But she wasn't even sure if that would work, and it wasn't exactly the safest spell in the world, either.

She paused for a moment as a sharp pain blurred her vision. She closed her eyes and leaned on her right hand, waiting for the pain to pass. It didn't pass but it lessened enough for her to go to the kitchen for a glass of water. She looked up when Buffy walked in through the back door.

"You're up late," Buffy said in surprise. She set her bag on the kitchen island and leaned against the counter. She glanced at the clock, which read 12:23 am.

"I could say the same," Tara responded.

"Yeah, but I'm a night person considering I slay creatures of the night," Buffy said. She noticed Tara wincing in pain. "You're researching?"

Tara nodded her head, but then the look of pain on her face worsened. She put both hands to her head. Buffy stepped forward and caught Tara just as her knees buckled. The young witch groaned in pain as Buffy eased her to the floor. As far as Buffy could tell, Tara was oblivious to her presence.

Images ran through her mind, faster than she could comprehend them. She knew she saw blood and destruction. The pain was so intense that it reminded her of when Glory fed off her mind. That pain was intense as well. Searing. Burning. After a moment there was nothing else but the pain.

Slowly Buffy's voice broke through. She was saying her name. "Tara? Tara?" And slowly the pain faded back to the dull throbbing. Tara hadn't even realized she had been holding her breath until she drew in a long, ragged breath. Finally she opened her eyes and saw the worried eyes of Buffy.

"On a scale of 1 to 10 that looked like it registered a 500 in the pain department," Buffy said. "This is getting out of hand. You have to let us help you, and you have to tell Willow."

"No," Tara said, shaking her head as Buffy helped her stand. She sat on a nearby stool, trembling.

"You're shaking like a leaf in a tornado. It's obvious things are getting worse," Buffy said. "Maybe Willow can help."

"There's a spell that I think I can do," Tara said, ignoring the mention of Willow. "It helps to track and dispel curses."

"You think you're cursed?"

"It's the only thing I can think of."  She stood carefully and headed back to the computer in the dining room with Buffy following her. "I'm going to try it tomorrow."

"Promise me that if the spell doesn't work you'll let the rest of us help, including Willow," Buffy said sternly. She waited and finally Tara made eye contact with her.

"I promise," Tara said quietly. She quickly cleared up her research. Buffy didn't look like she believed her. "I promise."

Buffy watched Tara put away everything before they both headed upstairs to go to bed. They were both silently hoping that this would all end tomorrow.

* * *

Anya turned off Jerry Springer when a knock came at the door. She rose, annoyed that someone would disturb her without calling to announce them first. But when she opened the door she was surprised at who she saw.

"Tara? What are you doing here?" she asked abruptly and somewhat rudely. Tara was taken aback and Anya realized it. She stepped aside and forced a more welcoming tone. "I mean, would you like to come in?"

Tara nodded her head and stepped through the doorway, waiting for Anya to close the door behind them.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't call first, but I really didn't know who else to go to," Tara said. She truly had chosen Anya as a last resort. There was no one else she knew who could help her with what she needed to do.

"Well, you're not here for vengeance. Not a drop of rage in you," Anya said nonchalantly.

"I need your help…with a spell," Tara explained.

"Why don't you have Willow help you? I thought that was why you two were together in the first place," Anya said. She flopped down on her sofa and Tara just stood in the middle of the living room holding her bag in both hands.

"No, I can't ask Willow," she said. "She's been clean for months. I can't ask her to do magic until I'm sure of what's going on."

"What do you mean?" Anya asked, dropping the remote back to the sofa. She was about to turn Jerry Springer back on, but realized humans would find that rude.

"I've been having these…headaches," she began to explain. She sat on the opposite end of the sofa from Anya. "They're not normal headaches. I can tell they're magical. I can feel an imbalance in reality. Something's not right. I need to figure out what it is and fix it."

"What do you need me for?" she asked.

"I need a secondary, an anchor," Tara said. She pulled a book out of her bag and opened it.  "This spell requires a lot of power. There's no way I can do it by myself. It would kill me if I tried, drain me of all my power."

"Is it going to do that to me?" Anya asked. She was worried about that little detail. Granted she was a demon again, so she had more power than she did a year ago, but draining of any power was not something she looked forward to.

"No, not really," Tara replied. She looked at her notes in the book she was holding. "I reworked the spell a little bit. I'm the primary, so it taps into my energy first. Then if I get low, it'll go to you. It shouldn't take too much. At the most you'll probably feel dizzy."

"What about you? What will you feel when the spell's over?" Anya asked. Her demon side hated that she had any concern for Tara right now. It hated that she even allowed Tara into the apartment. But her human side was winning over a lot more when it came to dealing with humans. A few years as a human and it was still dominant.

"I'll be very weak. Tired," she replied. "I'll need a lot of rest after it's complete."

"What if you're wrong and my being the second doesn't work? What if it kills you anyway?" Then another thought crossed her mind. "If you die, they'll blame me."

Tara hesitated and then looked Anya in the eyes. "They won't blame you because it won't kill me," she said as confidently as she could. "Will you help me? It may take several hours."

Anya sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't have anything else to do. You made me miss the end of Jerry Springer."

"Sorry," Tara said softly. Anya didn't pay attention to it.

"Okay, I'll help," she said. She pasted her classic smile on her face. "Could be fun."

Tara couldn't help but smile. She had always enjoyed Anya's ability to bounce from one emotion to another in the blink of an eye. It was something Willow was quite good at as well.

It took a moment to get everything set up, but after a few minutes the two of them sat cross-legged across from each other within a circle of candles. In the center between them was a square piece of fabric about a foot long on each side. Drawn on it in black fabric paint were several ancient rune symbols. Tara held out her hands and Anya took them. Then they both closed their eyes as Tara began chanting in latin. Soon her voice faded away.

Memories flashed through Tara's mind. Things she recalled. Events that happened. A flash and she's singing to Willow oblivious of the fact that Willow had tampered with her mind. A flash and they're in the sewers, none of them remembering anything about themselves or each other. A flash and she's moving out, leaving Willow. Betrayed. A flash and she's taking Willow back, not able to stand being without her. Then it starts to change. The next day.

Flash. A sunny morning. Buffy's in the back yard talking to Xander.

Flash. Gunshots. Cracks. Burning in her chest. Extreme pain that slowly fades into darkness.

Flash. Pure rage. Willow's rage and pain and sorrow. Her need for vengeance.

Flash. More pain. Warren's pain as Willow slowly forces a bullet into his chest. Then sudden pain that changes to oblivion as she skins him alive.

Flash. Giles pain as he fights Willow.  The pain of the world as Willow attempts to destroy it.

Then memories flash more quickly as she approaches the present day. Willow went to England and then returned, having learned to control herself and stop herself from using magic. And through all of those memories following the gunshots, Tara wasn't there.

The spell ended abruptly and their hands broke apart. Anya gasped and watched wide-eyed as Tara slumped over onto her side on the floor. She was trembling and whimpering, as if she were in pain. Anya looked around and realized that six hours had passed when it hadn't even felt like one.

"Tara? Are you okay?" Anya asked, ignoring the obvious fact that Tara wasn't okay.

Weakly Tara spoke, her eyes barely open. "I-I…don't belong…here."

"I should call Willow," Anya said, concerned that Tara had gotten in over her head. But the young witch shook her head 'no.'

"Not Willow. I…can't…" she said. Anya moved over to Tara and slowly helped her sit up. Then she helped her over to the couch. Luckily Anya had demon strength because Tara couldn't even hold herself up on her own two feet. She got Tara comfortable on the sofa and then looked to her questioningly.

"What did you see? Why can't I call Willow?"

"This world is wrong," Tara said. Her eyes closed then as the weakness overcame her and she lost consciousness. Anya picked up the phone, hoping that Willow didn't answer.