Disclaimer: Only the story is mine – I'm sure Joss doesn't want it anyway - and of course Buffy and the gang belong to Joss and the WB.
Rating: R, I'm guessing, for bad language and adult themes.
Dedication: To the reviewers – thanks for sticking with me this far!
Author's Note: Chapter 6. All of this is strictly A/U, of course, as Better Angels was A/U to begin with. This chapter showed up a little faster than the last one, no? Might be a bit of a lag on the next one, though – I think it's going to be the hardest one to write.
"Tell him to drive faster, Xander."
"Will, it's a taxi. They can only drive the speed limit – usually less, actually. I'd be driving myself, if it wasn't for the minor hand breakage I seem to be experiencing." Xander dangled his limp hand in front of Willow's face for effect. "You should be in the hospital yourself. We'll be at Buffy's soon. Now what the hell's going on?"
"It's a long story."
"Make it short."
"Well, you know I went to see Giles, so let's start there…"
"Giles, I have to leave. The endless searching for Angel, missing Buffy, the haunted look in everyone's eyes – I just can't take it anymore."
"I understand, Willow – truly I do. Is there anything I could do for you before you go? Do you need money?"
Willow smiled wryly. "No, thanks. The Rosenbergs are decently well off – and if I'm gone for a few weeks, neither of them are likely to even notice." She turned serious. "Are you sure that you-that it'll be okay if I leave? I feel like I'm abandoning you somehow."
"Willow – you have no idea how much it still pains me to say this – Buffy's gone. I've looked a thousand times for a way to make that not so, but there simply isn't one. You're seventeen years old –much too young for the kind of cares and worries that this town has thrust upon you. If you feel that getting away would help, then by all means do so. Otherwise you're going to end up doing what Xander's doing – withdrawing into himself to avoid the world. Please, go and do what you need to do."
Willow got up on her toes and kissed Giles' unshaven cheek. "Thank you, Giles. I don't know how long I'll be gone, but I'll come back – I promise. Take care of yourself, and most importantly stop blaming yourself. You meant more to Buffy than you could ever know – and she knows, wherever she is, that you did all you could. She wouldn't want you to be miserable forever."
As she walked out the door, Giles allowed the tears he'd been holding back to fall. "Thank you, Willow," he said quietly as the oak door closed.
"So after I left there, I headed for the bus terminal. I really had no idea where I was going, so I just picked the first city on the list – Boston. It took longer than I thought – I've never driven across the country before – but eventually we pulled into Boston. I wasn't sure what I was going to do, so I grabbed a hotel room downtown and thought about taking a sightseeing tour the next day, just because it was something to do. Of course, I should have known that my life is never that simple…"
Willow left the hotel the next morning feeling rested and refreshed. People say the first night in a hotel bed is always a poor sleep, but for her this was the first time she'd slept the night through since Buffy died. Her room carried far too memories – too much baggage – for her to sleep well in it. Everywhere she looked she was reminded of her best friend. But here she was in a new city, with an opportunity to clear her head a little.
She waited for the tour bus to slow to a stop, and climbed aboard when the door opened. She found an empty seat across from two young women who she gradually gathered were talking about something that had happened to them the night before.
"I tell ya, I never seen anything like that," said the first girl, a short redhead. "What the hell was wrong with those guys' faces?"
Willow perked up.
"I don't know," replied the second girl, a taller brunette. "And what was the deal with that girl? The way she came flying in there and started beating them down? I wish we would have stayed – I bet she destroyed those creeps. She was like some kind of superhero!"
Willow couldn't hold her tongue any longer. She leaned across the aisle of the bus and asked the redhead "sorry to interrupt, but this sounds like one crazy story – this really happened?"
The redhead looked Willow up and down for a moment and gave a brief nod like she was giving herself permission to tell the story. "Oh yeah, Bobbie" she pointed to the brunette, "and me were out getting smokes last night, and we just come out of the store when these two guys walk up and ask us if we want company. We said no and figured that was the end of it, but then they started following us. We started to run, and they followed us until they backed us into a dead-end alley. When we turned around, their faces were all…" She bunched up the skin between her eyes with two fingers.
"Bumpy?" Willow offered.
"Yeah, bumpy. They had these big pointy teeth, and we figured we were done for, right? Then this girl – about my height, black leather pants, very cool – comes flying out of nowhere and starts whaling on these guys, and I mean seriously. She yells at us to run, so Bobbie and me hightail it like we're on fire, and never look back. It was intense."
"You didn't…" Willow hesitated, "get this girl's name, by any chance?"
The redhead looked at her like she was insane. "Um, no, we weren't going to stop for a chat in the middle of running for our lives. Although, there was another girl, looked a little younger, went running into the alley as we were running out, and the ass-kickin' girl yelled something at her – 'I told you to go home…something.' Do you remember, Bobbie?"
The brunette frowned. "It was somethin' weird – Sunshine? Sunset?"
"Dawn!" The redhead burst out. "That was it, 'I told you to go home, Dawn!' How come you're so curious, anyhow?"
Willow fumbled for a convenient excuse. "Oh, I…uh, think I know the girl you're talking about. Some friends of hers have been looking for her. Where exactly was it that you saw her?"
"The alley's at fourth and main, next to the Holiday Inn and that weird bookstore – I don't remember what it's called. But I don't know which direction she came from."
"Thanks for all your help," Willow said as she shook the redhead's hand. She walked to the front of the bus, leaving the redhead to mutter "what a weirdo." After some conversation and an extremely generous tip, the tour bus driver called a taxi for her and let her off. In minutes, she was on her way back through downtown Boston, looking for the alley the girls had described.
"Run this by me again, Will. You thought this girl was the new slayer?"
"Right."
"And you wanted to find her because.."
"I don't know. It just felt like something I had to do. I remembered what a rough time of it Buffy had her first year here, and I thought maybe the girl could use my help – after all, she wouldn't have to explain the slayer thing to me or anything, right? And having a sister, too – I figured that couldn't be easy. Mostly I had just felt so useless since Buffy left us that I would have given anything to be a part of something again."
It hadn't taken too long to find the alley the girls had told her about. The hard part now was figuring out which way the "superhero" had come from. The Holiday Inn on the one side of the alley just seemed too obvious, but Willow decided she might as well start there – maybe she'd catch a break. She walked through the front door of the hotel and walked straight to the front desk, catching the concierge's eye. "Excuse me?" She asked.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"I'm looking for a friend of mine – about yay high," she gestured, taking a wild guess as to the girl's height, "favors black leather, has a younger sister named Dawn?"
"Oh, you mean the weird chick in 730. Yeah, she said she'd be sending someone to pick up her stuff. That you?"
Struggling to keep the excitement from her voice, Willow replied "yep, that's me all right. Come to pick up my friend's stuff."
The concierge handed her the room key. "Make sure you get everything," he said, "and drop the key off here at the desk when you're done."
Watching Willow board the elevator, the concierge picked up his phone and dialed. "Yes, it's me. I think we've got a bead on her. Get down here to room 730 right away."
Willow entered the room to find it a disaster – the girls had obviously left in a hurry. She had dug through the scattered belongings for twenty minutes, and was ready to quit, when she discovered a small diary taped to the underside of the room's only desk. The blue leather cover read 'Property of Dawn Lehane.' Willow cleared off a spot on the room's bed and sat down to read. It didn't take long for Willow to truly feel for this girl and her sister, Faith. Daughters to an alcoholic mother, they had left home two years before Buffy died, and been on their own since then, moving from city to city. Dawn's diary was extensive, touching on Faith's calling as a slayer and the death of her watcher – although with no mention of who or what had killed her.
The last twenty pages, however, were what made Willow sit up and take notice. Following repeated references to a "tattooed guy" who was pursuing them, along with what Dawn referred to as "a bunch of other creepy-crawlies," was a last entry which had obviously been written in haste.
Dear Diary:
This'll be the last entry in this book. Faith says the tattooed guy knows where we are, and we have to go. We're heading for a place in California called Sunnydale. I'm leaving my diary here – Faith doesn't know I've been keeping it, and she'd probably get all grumpy if she found out. Although she's been weird lately anyway – she keeps giving me the oddest looks when she thinks I can't see her. Anyway, she's calling me again – yeah, yeah, I'm coming – so I've gotta go. Hopefully I'll be back for this book one day; I liked Boston.
Willow got up slowly, tapping the diary against the back of her hand while she considered what to do next. After a minutes' thought, she decided she needed to find Faith – and that meant getting back to Sunnydale. No bus this time – a plane would be the only way to get there before Faith. She was two steps from the door when it exploded inwards, throwing her backwards into the wall and knocking her unconscious.
She wasn't sure how long she was unconscious – but she couldn't move. She gradually fought her way back to consciousness to find herself firmly affixed to the hotel's bed. She was about to scream for help when she saw the nondescript man sitting at the end of her bed. He put his finger to his lips in the universal "quiet" gesture – which is when she noticed the tattoos on the back of his hands. That, as well as the two creatures on either side of him, convinced her it wouldn't be such a great idea to make noise. She held her breath as the man leaned toward her.
"Well, hello there," he said in a pleasant voice with an accent she couldn't quite place. "We thought you were never gonna wake up. Golly, that bump on the head must be more than it looks. Now, I know you're afraid, but there's no need of that. I'm just going to ask you one question, and when you answer, you can go. No strings attached." With this last, he raised his hand in the "scout's honor" salute.
Willow almost stammered her response, but the images of all her friends, and thoughts of Faith and Dawn, gave her enough courage to steady her voice. "What question might that be?"
"I think you know, sweetheart, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt – once. Where are they? I know they're not in Boston anymore, but I seem to have lost them temporarily."
"Why don't you just read that?" Willow asked, indicating the diary he held in his hands.
"You know, dear, the thought had occurred to me. Trouble is the damn thing – 'scuse my French, dear – the darn thing – got all singed when the door blew in. I know it had their destination in it, and I know you read it, but now it's wrecked. So I have to impose on you a little."
"I don't remember."
"Please don't lie to me. You're too sweet a girl to tell lies, I can tell just by looking at you." He moved up the bed and sat down near her head. He extended a hand, and waved it over her face. "I can kill you, just by touching you. Just once touch, and that'd be it. But that wouldn't just be impolite, it would be downright useless. See, if I did that, you'd be dead. And if you were dead, I couldn't find out what I need to know. So why not just tell me, and spare yourself the pain – not to mention saving me the time?"
Willow set her jaw. "No. I'm not telling you anything. Go ahead and kill me."
The man sighed. Getting up from the bed, he turned to the creature closest to him. "Make sure you don't kill her – try not to even break anything. When she tells us what we need to know, I want her to be able to walk out of here – I promised, after all." The creatures closed in on Willow, each brandishing some different implement of torture. Willow watched them close in on her, her mind racing. She told herself she wouldn't scream, wouldn't tell them what she knew.
To her credit, she lasted almost a half-hour. But as brave as she tried to be, and for all the courage she could muster, she wasn't a slayer or a soldier. She was just a scared seventeen year old girl in a terrific amount of pain. Finally she told the man what he needed to know. "Sunnydale?" He said wonderingly. "It seems to me I've been there before – have I been there before?" The creature next to him leaned over and whispered in his ear. "Oh, yes," he said cheerfully, "that bit of business. Thank you." He bent over Willow's bed to whisper in her ear. "And thank you, dear. I'm sorry about this unpleasantness, but now you get to leave, just like I promised. We're going to untie you, and then we're going to leave. Just stay here for a while, regain some strength, and then you can head to the hospital down the road. I'll have the man at the front desk call a cab for you. Oh, and one more thing – following me to Sunnydale would be a terribly bad idea." The creatures removed Willow's bonds, and they and the man simply walked out the door.
"And that was it? He just let you go?"
"He was as good as his word. It took me almost two hours to be able to get out of bed, but when I finally made it downstairs there was a cab at the front door. It took me to the hospital – I gave them a fake name and paid in cash, 'cause I didn't want to leave any record there. I was there for two days. When I left, I headed straight for the airport. I knew he had a big lead on me, but I hoped maybe he was driving, or something. I hopped a one-way to L.A., and caught a bus from there to Sunnydale."
"So when did this-" Xander indicated the blood on her clothing, "happen?"
"Be patient, I'm getting to that. When I got off the bus, I headed for the depot, but before I got there something grabbed me from behind. It put a knife to my throat and dragged me behind the depot. When it spun me around, I saw it was one of the creatures from Boston. In this low, raspy voice it said 'He warned you not to come here. Now you die.' It slashed me a few good ones with the knife-" she lifted her shirt a little to show the cuts in her stomach, "but then a security guard came around the corner and it ran off. The guard helped me into a cab – I promised him I'd go to the hospital – and I went to your house. You weren't there, of course, but your Uncle Rory let me into your room. I found a receipt on your dresser for the motel, and I figured I'd take a shot at finding you there. The guy at the desk told me what room you were in, and then he said something odd about me being different than your usual."
Xander flushed. "I don't know what he was talking about. Crazy bellhop guy is obviously drugged or something."
Willow looked at him hard for a second, then shook her head, as if deciding to pursue the matter later. "So anyway, that's about where you come in. And that, in short, is where I've been."
"That's quite the story, Will. It's almost – oh, no."
"What?"
"Look!" Xander gestured out the window. In front of Buffy's house, Faith was grappling with a monster – what sort neither of them could tell – while Joyce shielded Dawn. Willow and Xander threw a pile of money at the cab driver, then jumped out of the cab and rushed toward the fight. From the other side of the house, they saw Angel running as fast as he could – almost flying – and all three of them joined the battle at once.