In which the Scoobies try to make sense of the mess they made of Buffy's anti-funeral.
It had been a slow night for Anya and Dawn. None of them had been too happy about waiting behind while the others went off to raise Buffy from the dead, but Giles had insisted (and tried to divert the discussion from Anya's remarks about typical male behavior). He didn't want Dawn anywhere near either Willow or magic that powerful – at least not until they'd figured out exactly what her status was, magical key-wise – and with Anya still in her wheelchair, just getting back and forth to the grave would simply be too much work. And so they waited; to Anya it was annoying, to Dawn it was torture. Any second, she figured, the door would open... and then what? Even though she missed her sister so much it hurt, so much that everything else got pushed aside, part of Dawn hoped they would return with sad faces and slumped shoulders, telling her the spell hadn't worked and that Buffy really was gone. At least that would be final. But what if Buffy actually walked through that door... as what? A zombie, despite what Jonathan had said? The cheery, supportive big sister she remembered from before Sunnydale or the suicidal girl that had jumped off that tower? Where would she have been and what would it do to her? Could things really go back to the way they had been...?
"So... do you want to do something?" Anya gave up pretending to watch TV. "Like, play poker?" Dawn just shook her head. "If you want, I could lend you some money to play for..."
The door burst open and Xander rushed in, limping and bleeding from a cut on his forehead. "In the car. Now."
"You're back!" Anya beamed, then instantly became worried. "And you're hurt! Did she try to eat your brain?"
"I'll explain in the car. But we have to get out of here."
Angel was running through the woods, replaying the events of the past few minutes in his head. One second he was sitting by Buffy's grave, the next he was standing on the road a mile away, and only barely avoided getting hit by an oncoming truck. As he'd made his way back into the woods, he'd only taken a few steps before a rustling made him look up – just in time to break Xander's fall as the boy dropped out of the tree where the spell had sent him.
"You alright?"
Xander panted, obviously in pain. "I think so. A bit beat up."
"What happened back there?"
"Teleportation spell, I think. Willow - our Willow - used it against Glory. Jonathan must have taught her... I swear, when I get my hands on him..." Xander got up and started limping deeper into the woods, but Angel grabbed him.
"No. If she's still there, I can take her, but if she's not... Dawn and Anya are alone in the house, and Willow has been invited. Take them to your apartment and lock the door."
"But... Buffy..."
"We don't even know if the spell worked. But we've got an insane vampire on the loose and we need to cover all bases. Go."
Xander looked at him, wanting to say something sarcastic... then turned and made off towards where they'd parked the cars. Angel started running through the thick brush, making straight for the glade where Buffy's grave had been.
"So what happened to Giles? A-and Jonathan?" Dawn was still trying to take it all in as Xander sped through a red light.
"I don't know. Maybe she didn't have enough power to send us all very far – me and Angel ended up in almost the same spot. But for all we know, she could have sent them to the moon. I'll go out and look later."
"But what about..." Dawn barely dared ask. "What about Buffy?"
"Who knows? If Jonathan taught her the right spell, and if she got it right, and if nothing else went wrong... Angel is there now, and as much as I hate to admit it, he can probably handle this better than we could. If she's alive, he'll find her. If not..." His voice caught, and he swallowed hard. "If not, at least we tried." But he knew there was a third possibility, too horrible to even think about. Yet he couldn't stop. Why would she perform the spell and THEN get rid of us? What good would a LIVE Buffy be to a vampire?
Angel burst into the clearing, almost stumbling over Jonathan's body, noticing it and then concentrating on what was important.
(They all matter... bullshit)
He kneeled on Buffy's grave and examined the hole. Pushed up – not dug up. She's alive. For a second, he couldn't think, torn between joy and horror. The spell had worked – at least partly, maybe completely. Something had awakened down there and dug itself out.
"BUFFY!"
No answer, nothing moving anywhere near him. The woods were silent, not so much as a bird fluttering away. He sniffed the air, and smelled blood. Above all, the burnt blood of the deer they'd used for the spell; the whole glade stank with it. Then there was Jonathan, of course, and there was still a little left in him; she hadn't drained him to the last drop, just taken enough to kill him. He'd done it himself a few hundred times when he was in a hurry. But there were two other familiar smells. He'd smelled Buffy's blood more times than he wanted to remember, after fights, during the night they'd made love, the time she'd forced him to feed off her... the smell had been with him for years, but this was fresh. And it was all over the place, starting in the hole; she'd hurt herself climbing out, there were a couple of really nasty-looking splinters drenched in red... if she was walking around somewhere, she probably needed medical attention. Soon.
But then there was the vampire. She'd bled. There were still droplets of her blood on the grass and on Jonathan's corpse. Had she turned him? Had he drunk? He couldn't afford to find out. Angel picked up the shovel Xander had brought, put the blade to Jonathan's throat... and paused. Jonathan had brought this on himself; he must have given that spell to Willow, probably the time he'd left them alone together. Which meant this was another one he'd messed up, another one he hadn't been able to save... he could only remember having seen Jonathan once before all this, before he left Sunnydale. It was at the mayor's ascension. He remembered admiring the little boy who'd thrown himself into the fray against vampires twice his size and ten times his strength, shielding Cordelia with his body as the school blew up... maybe that had impressed Angel too much. Maybe he wouldn't have left him alone with Willow if he hadn't seen that. Now here he was, just another corpse, only possibly not for much longer. "I'm sorry, Jonathan. I guess it doesn't pay to be a hero." Angel put his foot on the shovel and pushed, beheading the body.
He tried to
track the smells, but the vampire's veins had healed quickly and her
scent ended at the edge of the glade. Buffy's continued
(dripping)
right up to
the road, where it stopped suddenly. Angel sniffed in all directions,
getting nothing.
She was gone.
"Please... lady... I have two kids..." Joey was scared to death. He'd only been a cab driver for a couple of weeks, or else he probably would have known better than to pick up customers in Sunnydale after dark. She'd thrown the body in the back seat before he could react, then told him where to go in a tone that didn't ask for any objections. He'd driven to the old high school praying all the way to any saints he could think of. "I swear I won't tell anyone you're here... or what you..."
"Ssssssh." Willow smiled and put her finger to his lips. "It's gonna be OK. I promise." His neck broke like a dry twig, and she picked up the body of the Slayer and carried it inside the burnt-out building. She remembered liking the library, and for some reason it seemed right that her childe should be born there.