Chapter 7: Daylight
"Dawnie, do you want to go to school?" Tara called through the door. There was no response.
"It's okay if you don't," Willow said. "We have to go to a few classes, but we'll come by for lunch and when we've got time between classes."
The door opened, and Dawn stepped out, fully dressed in jeans and a baby blue t-shirt. "It's okay," she said. "I'll go to school." Then she squeezed past them and walked down the hall to the bathroom.
Willow frowned after her. Dawnie seemed to be handling the whole situation surprisingly well. "Seemed to" being the operating phrase. Before she could comment on it to Tara, her girlfriend spoke.
"Will, we need to talk."
"Um, okay," Willow said uncertainly. "About what?"
"About Buffy," Tara said softly, stepping into their own bedroom. Willow followed a bit uncertainly and closed the door behind her.
"What about Buffy?"
Tara paced back and forth in front of the bed, wringing her hands nervously before her. "About the things Xander said in the hospital. About magic."
Willow was rapidly growing uneasy. "Tara, baby, we both know how wrong it would be to try to heal Buffy." Willow couldn't help finding it strange that she was telling Tara not to do something because it was wrong. After all, Tara was the one who had an innate sense of right and wrong. Tara was the one who learned immediately from her mistakes, whereas Willow had to go off the deep end before the lesson would sink in.
Tara shook her head, and walked up to Willow until only half a foot separated them. "I'm not going to try to heal her," she said with wide eyes. "But I think I can help her another way." She took a deep breath. "I wasn't going to tell you, and certainly not the others because I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up, but I can't keep secrets from you. Besides, it would feel wrong. And I don't really want to do this alone." She closed the distance between them, putting her arms on Willow's shoulders. "I found the spell at the Magic Box. I have everything I need to do it, except one thing."
Willow frowned. "What do you need?"
Tara looked down at her hands, searching for the right words. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it were a good idea...I mean, I really need it. But I know how hard this is for you, so if you don't think you can do it, I'll...I'll understand. And I'll find another way...Maybe Giles can help...I want to ask him anyway. I'm sure he'll approve, especially considering what he said to you on the phone, so..." Tara trailed off, unsure how to continue. She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself compulsively.
"His flight's arriving this afternoon," Willow said.
"Good," Tara sighed. "Good. I'd like his advice before I...we...do this."
Willow looked at her with concern etched onto her face. "What is it, baby? What do you need?"
"An anchor."
---
"See you guys later," Dawn called as she walked out the door, her backpack slung over one shoulder. The way she saw it, she had two options. Option one: go to school, sit in a classroom for seven dull hours, and pretend that everything's okay. Option two: the hell with it. Go someplace else, someplace she didn't have to pretend, didn't have to do what she was told. It really wasn't much of a choice.
The question was where to go, she thought as she walked down the street, towards the bus stop, just in case someone was watching from the window. There were really only two places she wanted to go. The hospital or Spike's crypt. She wanted to see Buffy, but she wasn't sure the hospital staff would let her in. All that crap about her being a high school student. Spike, however, wouldn't care that she was skipping school. And he was sure to be there. After all, it was daylight.
About twenty minutes later, Dawn stood at the door to Spike's crypt. It felt strange to be here under the bright morning sun. The crypt looked very different under the harsh sunlight. She couldn't exactly put her finger on it, but she thought it looked more like a crypt. More empty of life, as if it was nothing but a repository for bones. When she visited Spike after sundown, it just felt like any home. A small, cold, stone home that was in the middle of a cemetery, but a home nonetheless. Spike's home. The home of a friend, who just happened to be undead.
She bit her lip and stood nervously in front of the stone door. Then she stepped forward and pushed it open. She glanced around the room as she walked inside. Spike was not there.
"Spike?" she called.
There was no answer. Maybe he's just asleep, she said to herself. She moved through the crypt, going down to the lower level in search of the vampire. But he was not there. Feeling very frustrated and alone, Dawn stood in the crypt trying to figure out what to do. She could try the hospital, but then she might get caught. She couldn't go to the mall because she'd been banned from every store that had anything worth having. She couldn't go home for fear of being caught by Willow or Tara. She couldn't hang out in the Magic Box because Anya would probably turn her in. And she certainly couldn't go to school.
Dawn stepped dismally into the sun. She began to walk through the cemetery, her mind as empty as she could make it. She didn't pay attention to where she was going, simply letting her feet carry her wherever they would. She wasn't really surprised when they stopped in front of a grave. She knelt by the tombstone.
"Hi Mom," she began.
---
Giles dozed fitfully on the plane. The man beside him was overweight, and kept shifting in his seat. No matter how often he changed positions, it did not change the fact that he was overflowing onto Giles' seat. Giles leaned against the side of the plane, trying to retain as much personal space as possible.
He was drifting in a hazy space, in between sleep and waking when a baby's cry shattered his temporary peace. As he returned to being fully awake, his thoughts returned to Buffy. It was hard to believe that she was in a coma. After everything they had been through, to be taken down by a bullet, a piece of metal...it was mind-boggling. He blinked slowly and stared out the window, watching the United States pass beneath his eyes. The sunlight streamed in, banishing any remaining sleep from his eyes.
---
Angel stood in his room at the hotel, pacing back and forth in front of the curtained window. He could see the sunlight around the edges. The sunlight that was keeping him from her. She needed him, he was sure. And even if she didn't, he needed to see her, to convince himself that this was really happening. Or to prove that it was all a nightmare. He knew he should sleep, but he couldn't. So he continued to pace as he waited for the sun to go down.
