Chapter 10: No Change

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the nurse said. "Our visiting hours end in ten minutes."

Tara and Giles exchanged a meaningful look, but didn't say anything. They were standing in the doorway to Buffy's hospital room, along with Willow, Xander, Anya and Dawn. When the nurse didn't leave, they realized that he was looking for some sort of affirmation.

"That's fine," Giles said to the young man. "We will be gone in a few minutes."

The nurse, who did little to hide his mistrust, looked over the small group before nodding to himself and walking away. The Scoobies stepped into the relative privacy of the room, closing the door behind them.

"We haven't got much time left," Giles said. "We had better get started with the cloaking spell."

"Willow, Xander, Anya, and Dawn," Tara said as she stepped into the role of the leader with only well-hidden anxiety. "You stay by the door. Make sure no one is watching through the window. Giles, you are going to help me with the herbs. But first, I have to annoint us all."

Two minutes later, they were all standing in their assigned positions with a thick brown substance that looked suspiciously like mud smeared around their eyes. Tara sat cross-legged in the center of the room, her eyes closed and her hands on her knees. Giles walked around her, lighting candles in a pentagonal formation around the witch. When he was done, he stepped back to join the other four. Tara began to speak.

"Light of our souls be harbored. Be reflected only within. Our light in others' eyes extinguished."

Tara began to whisper in Latin, and she could feel the magic rising within her. As it did, she became more acutely aware of her surroundings, despite the fact that her eyes remained shut. She could smell the incense. She could hear the gentle breathing of the others. She could feel the rising panic in Willow at the proximity of the magic. She could feel Willow's desire to reach out with her mind, to tap into the power Tara was now channeling. Just as she began to truly worry that the former witch would give in, she felt Willow withdraw within herself, resisting the temptation. Tara felt a proud smile spread across her face. And through it all she could hear Buffy's soft, steady breaths, and feel the power within the comatose Slayer.

Then she opened her eyes. A warm wind whipped around them, and blew out the candles. "It's done," she whispered.

---

Giles frowned and cleaned his glasses. Xander and Anya has just gone in search of food, and Dawn was in the bathroom. Now seemed to be the best chance. He turned away from the window and looked at Tara. She glanced at him. He could tell she had been thinking the same thing. He followed her gaze to where Willow sat silently beside Buffy. Feeling their gaze upon her, Willow tore her eyes away from her best friend and looked at them.

"What?" she said.

Tara sighed. "It's time," she said gently. "If we want to reach her, we should do it now. Are you ready?"

Willow gulped, and glanced back down at Buffy. She sniffed, and looked a bit teary as she patted Buffy's limp hand. Then she turned back to Tara, resolve face in place. "I guess we won't know 'til we find out." She frowned, perplexed. "I guess that goes without asking; we won't know until we find out."

Tara gave her lover a lopsided small, and took her hand, leading her away from the bed and into the center of the room. Giles stood silently behind them, between Willow and the door. He folded his arms across his chest and tried to prepare himself for what might ensue.

---

She was drifting. Drifting in the nothingness. But she wasn't nothing. She didn't think she was. She. Who was she?

A name floated to her through the vacuum. Buffy. Yes, that was her name: Buffy. But who was Buffy?

More words came to her through the nothingness. Buffy Summers, the Vampire Slayer. Slayer. She knew that word. You live on the Hellmouth: Sunnydale, California. Hellmouth. You have a younger sister, Dawn. Dawn. More names came to her, names of her friends, her family. Descriptions of them, and of her, came. Bits and pieces of her life floated back to her. But they didn't come from her.

Who are you? she whispered into the vacuum, the emptiness. Only it wasn't really empty because something was there. And she was. She wasn't abandoned. She was loved, and now she knew it. Now she knew who she was. But she didn't know how she knew, or why.

Tara. Another name from the fog. A name she knew. A voice she knew. She had a name, and a voice, to cling to.

I am here to help you. You've been hurt. You'll be okay if you wake up. I cannot bring you back to the world. Only you can do that.

Then why are you here? And what do you mean 'wake up'? Where am I?

You're in a coma. Your body is in Sunnydale Hospital. And so is mine. But our essences are...somewhere else. Your subconscious, perhaps. Or perhaps there's some other place, a place where souls go. Either way, we should not stay here. Like I said, I can't wake you up. But if there is something keeping you here, perhaps you can overcome it.

Something keeping me here? She was having difficulty keeping track of what was being said here. Everything was fuzzy and disorienting. Like a demon?

Maybe. I don't think so. Your personal demons, perhaps. But you are a fighter. It may be hard, but if you confront whatever is keeping you here, I think it might manifest itself physically, or what passes for physically here.

A fighter. Yes, she was a fighter. She had always fought for what was right. Now she would be fighting for herself. She suddenly felt...something. Hope? A little. Then she felt something else. If she could have frowned, she would have.

There's something else here, she said.

Tara was shocked. She did not say anything.

You're not alone, Buffy told her.

I have to go.

Then Tara was gone, and Buffy was left alone. But she knew what she had to do. She opened her eyes. And was confronted by darkness. She was lying on her back. Her eyes began to adjust. She took a deep breath, only to find the oxygen supply sadly lacking. Her eyes widened as she gasped for air. Her hands roamed across the cloth-covered wood of her trap. She had to get out.

---

Willow gasped for air. She felt as if she had run a mile, and the coach was asking her to run ten more. She could feel the magic coursing through her. She wasn't really using it, she was just serving as an anchor. But she could feel it just the same. And she yearned to touch it with every fiber of her being. She had thought being in the same room as Tara while she did her cloaking spell had been hard, but it was nothing compared to this. It was calling her. It was stronger than her. She couldn't control it, and she knew it. But then, wasn't that the way it was supposed to be?

Controlled power was a euphemism for less power. And Giles said she needed to get back on the magics. That she would need that power. Her power. Uncontrolled. She could feel it just spiritual inches away from her probing mind. She was slipping, and she knew it. Blackness began to cloud her vision. She tried to pull back, but it was so hard. No. She had to fight it. She had to be strong, like an Amazon. Strong for Tara. Tara, who was right there, who did not want her to lose control. Who believed in her, with or without the magic.

Then Tara was there, and the magic was gone. Tara was there, looking at her with worried, knowing eyes. They both knew how close she had gone to the edge. But she had not gone over. She had passed the first trial. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around to see Giles kneeling behind her. He gave her a benevolent almost-smile in his very British way.

"Are you two alright?"

Willow looked at Tara. "Yeah," she said. "I think so."

"Well then," he said as he got to his feet, "why don't we go check on Buffy?"

Willow nodded, and got to her feet, along with Tara. The three of them approached the bed anxiously. The doctors had removed the breathing tube earlier that day. The various machines she was still hooked up to were still whirring and beeping. Giles, Willow, and Tara stood there, looking down at Buffy anxiously. They stood there silently, and time dragged by as they waited for a sign.

"There's no change," Giles whispered finally.