Author's Note:
Alright, I forgot one important thing in the Author's Note on the prologue. The usual disclaimer… Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all its characters are the property of Joss Whedon and I cannot claim his pure genius as my own. The only one I made up myself is Dr. Robert Matheson. Everything else belongs to him. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing it. And PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review and tell me what you think.

Let the Tortured Body Cease

Chapter One: And They Remain

Ah God,
I trod them down where I have trod,
And they remain, and they remain,
Etched in unutterable pain,
Loved lips and faces now apart,
That once were closer than my heart –
In agony, in agony,
And horribly a part of me…
For Lethe is for no man set,
And in Hell may no man forget.

-- The Quality of Courage, Stephen Vincent Benet

Buffy walked out of the mansion. Blood trickled from small cuts, and bruises were already beginning to show, and every muscle and joint ached, but all in all she had escaped this particular apocalypse largely unscathed. Except for the fact that her heart now lay in a million tiny pieces on the floor of the mansion. Hanging limply at her sides, her hands felt strangely empty without her sword, but she couldn't go back to retrieve it. She had imbedded it in her vampire lover's heart.

She kept walking, her face rigid and blank as a slab of stone, and she did not stumble or falter. But this was only because her mind was no longer attached to her body. Her legs moved smoothly of their own accord, without conscious choice or thought. Her mind was otherwise engaged – crying, screaming. Oh God! I can't do this, it sobbed, and subsequently shut down.

"I love you…"

"Close your eyes…"

She clenched her eyes shut tight and tried to force the memories from her head, but nothing could make them disappear. And still her feet kept moving forward. The tears she had sobbed moments before were gone, but the memories remained vivid. When she finally reached her house, she paused. Standing in the middle of Revello Drive, she stared at the dark house and her mother's words came unbidden to her ears.

"You walk out of this house; don't even think about coming back!"

Buffy flinched at the memory and steeled herself for the onslaught of tears sure to come. Only to find they didn't. Her throat didn't get tight, her eyes didn't sting and burn, no tears slid down her cheeks. It was beyond her, it seemed, to cry anymore. Her tears were gone for good, perhaps. Well, thank God for small favors.

Taking a deep breath, she took another step toward the house. And then another. And another. Until she was standing at the front door. Maybe, just maybe, her mother hadn't meant what she'd said. She supposed she'd find out if and when the door got slammed in her face.

Then, just as she was about to knock on the door, her Slayer hearing caught the sound of two voices. "Doctor, I just don't understand what's happened to her," she heard her mother say.

And a man's voice replied, "well, at this point it is difficult to determine what might have triggered the delusions."

Buffy's eyes widened.

"Was it the divorce?" Joyce asked in a small, guilty voice.

"It may ore may not have been. It may have been something else entirely. It may have been nothing at all – no specific event at any rate. But in all cases, delusions are a product of a person's inability to accept or cope with reality."

"Oh God, what am I going to do!" Joyce sobbed.

And the doctor said, "Do not worry, Mrs. Summers. The Sunnydale Mental Institution has one of the best staffs in the country. Psychologists and psychiatrists come from everywhere to practice here; they're attracted to the numerous and unique cases here. For such a small town, Sunnydale's history of mental instability is quite striking. I've often wondered if it might be something in the water."

At that, Buffy could not seem to help but smirk, finding such dark humor in the comment. Idiot… she thought derisively.

"Doctor, there's something else…"

"Yes?"

"Just this evening, a couple of police officers came looking for Buffy. They… they said… they said she's a… a murder suspect."

"Good Heavens!"

"I don't think she did it!" Joyce insisted quickly, adding nervously: "I think… But… But if she did, they couldn't prosecute her, right? Not if she's this sick."

"Don't worry, Mrs. Summers. If it comes down to that, our doctors will be happy to testify at a hearing evaluating her competency to stand trial, insisting on her mental incapacity."

Mental incapacity my ass, Buffy thought with a growl.

"Thank God," Joyce whispered. "I just hope she'll be alright again in time."

"We shall take very good care of her, I assure you. And with hard work, and perhaps a touch of good luck, you shall have your daughter back."

Joyce sighed and was silent for a moment. Then she said: "I was so furious when she left, I told her not to come back. She might try to run away. We… we might have to involve the police in order to find her. And she's much stronger than usual girls… I'm not really sure how or why…"

"I believe our people will be able to handle it without involving the police."

"I hope so. I… I don't want her to hurt anybody."

Buffy paled at that. Knowing her mother believed her capable of hurting people, possibly of murder… She couldn't listen to anymore. Furious, despairing, her heart breaking, she turned away from the door and quickly climbed up to her bedroom window. Frantically, she changed clothes, pulling on a t-shirt and a pair of comfortable overalls. Then she grabbed a duffel bag and rapidly began packing. There was no point in staying here any longer. Everyone she loved had turned on her. Angel. Her mother.

Downstairs the phone was ringing.

"Hello," she heard her mother say, answering the phone. Buffy zipped up the bag and turned back to her window. "God! Is he alright?" her mother gasped. Silence. "Yes, thank you for telling me. Goodbye."

"Is it about Buffy?" the doctor asked when Joyce had hung up the phone.

"No… Mr. Giles, Buffy's high school librarian. He's been hospitalized. The doctor I spoke to said he's in very serious condition."

Buffy froze. Not everyone had turned on her. Giles… And thinking his name galvanized her, urging her into motion. Without another thought, she bolted out the window.

Downstairs in the living room, the doctor was asking Joyce: "why would the hospital call you, though?"

"Mr. Giles is a sort of mentor for Buffy. I think they've gotten to be very good friends."

"Is there anyway she might have found out he's been hospitalized?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"It might be a good place to begin looking for her. I'll have my people go over there to check."

Joyce simply nodded silently and poured herself another drink.

Buffy ran through the hospital doors, her duffel bag swinging back and forth from her shoulder, blood still dripping down her face, ignoring the calls from several nurses. Down one hallway and then the next, she ran, calling out to her friends. Then suddenly, Xander appeared from nowhere and grabbed her into a giant hug.

"Xander! Where's Giles! Is he…?" she cried out.

Xander clasped her shoulders and looked down at her solemnly. "He's… he's in surgery right now. He had some… some internal bleeding."

"Oh God," she whispered, and her knees buckled. If Xander hadn't held her up, she would have crashed into the hard tile floor. Her blood pounded in her ears and she could feel her mind going blank. "He swore…" she breathed. "Spike swore he'd… Oh God! If Giles dies I'll hunt him for all eternity, I won't kill him, I'll decimate him!"

Xander stared at her with wide eyes as she breathed violent thoughts and teetered on the edge of fainting. "Buffy," he said. She didn't reply. "Buffy," he said again, sternly. "Buffy!" he yelled, punctuating the word with a sharp shake. Her eyes darted to his face, wide, dark, wild, fathomless; her face was white as fine bone china. "The doctors say they're pretty sure he's going to be alright because we got him here soon enough. If even another hour had gone by, he probably would've died. But he's not going to. We got him out in time. You got him out in time."

Buffy nodded silently, her eyes still wide. Shock was not a strong enough word to describe her state of mind at that moment. Terrified was not a strong enough word. No word came to mind.

"How's Will?" she whispered.

"Fine. Resting. She says the spell worked. She says she could feel it working."

Buffy glanced at him but did not say anything.

"So? Where is he?" Xander demanded, "isn't he going to come apologize, face the damage he did, seek forgiveness, all that crap…?"

Buffy didn't reply. This time, she didn't even look at him. She started walking forward, and Xander decided to keep his mouth shut for once. Striding forward to catch up with her, he grabbed her elbow and steered her into Willow's room.

"I told the doctors to come here when they have news of Giles," Xander said. Buffy nodded again and walked into the room. Silently, she came up beside Willow, nodding to Oz who sat on the other side as she knelt on the floor near the bed and took her best friend's hand.

"Where's…?" Willow began, but Xander shook his head urgently and she clamped her mouth shut. Without saying a word, Buffy laid her head on Willow's arm and closed her eyes. Within ten minutes she had fallen asleep.

"Hello, Lover." Cold, quiet bravado.

A scornful glance. "I don't have time for you."

"You don't have a lot of time left."

When she awoke, her friends were whispering. She sighed softly and for a moment, pretended she was still asleep. Even in her dreams, the memories remained. She could not escape them, and she needed a moment to recover from the dream.

"What's with the duffel bug?" Oz whispered to no one in particular.

"I don't know," Xander whispered back, "but don't expect me to ask her. She's acting a little strange. Unpredictable."

Oz nodded. Buffy took a deep breath.

"I was running away…" Buffy answered as she sat up and squeezed Willow's hand affectionately.

"What!" Willow squealed at Buffy's answer.

"How long was I asleep?" Buffy asked, as if she hadn't just shocked the entire room.

"Uh… Not more than an hour…" Xander replied, looking stunned.

"Any news of Giles yet?"

"Um… no, not yet."

Buffy nodded, stood, and stretched, wincing at her creaking joints and screaming muscles.

"Okay… Now, stop and rewind!" Xander exclaimed. "What the hell was that about running away?"

Buffy sighed and glanced down at the duffel bag she had dropped on the floor by Willow's bed. "I… I was going to run away. My mom… When I told her what was going on, when I told her I had to leave, she told me if I left I wasn't allowed to come back. But I couldn't stay and explain things to her better. I didn't have time. Angel was going to destroy the world. Giles was… Giles was being tortured. So I left her standing there in the kitchen. When… after… when I went home, I thought maybe she'd changed her mind. Maybe she hadn't meant it. But…"

She paused and they all looked at her expectantly.

"But…" Willow prompted.

"She's… She was talking to a doctor… from… from the mental institution. She's going to have me committed."

Willow, Xander, and Oz all looked at her silently, wide-eyed with shock. Then Xander spluttered, "She can't do that! You're not crazy!"

"Well, not in the usual way, at least…" Willow added impishly.

"Not helping here, Will!" Buffy exclaimed.

"Sorry…" she said sheepishly. "Stress reaction. You know? Laugh because you're too scared to cry…"

Buffy glanced at her and gave her a small smile. "I know. It's alright…"

"But you're mom isn't!" Xander bellowed frantically. "We just… just have to prove you're telling the truth."

"At this point… I think if we showed her a vamp, even if I dusted him right in front of her, she'd probably rather commit herself than believe what she saw was real."

"So… So what're we supposed to do?" Willow asked in a timid voice.

Oz hugged her and said: "We'll figure something out, Will. We won't let them take Buffy away."

Willow smiled at him and Buffy looked at him and said softly, "Thanks, Oz."

And then, almost as if just to prove Oz wrong, two men burst into the room, followed by a frantic nurse. "This is a hospital! This patient needs rest! What do you think you're doing!" the nurse yelled.

"That her?" one of the men asked the other.

Glancing at a photo of Buffy, the second man nodded. Then he said, "Miss Summers, please come with us. We've been asked by your mother to retrieve you."

"I don't care what my mother asked you to do," Buffy said.

"Miss Summers, I'm afraid we must insist."

"Insist all you want. Ain't gonna happen," Xander said, standing in front of Buffy.

Buffy smiled at his back and poked her head around his shoulder. "You heard the man. Now leave."

"We have a court order permitting us to use force if the need arises. Please don't make this more difficult than it has to be," the first man said. "We don't want to hurt you."

Buffy smirked, "I'd like to see you try."

With that, both men lunged. The first man, blocked by Xander, punched the boy and then kicked him twice when he landed on the floor. The second man grabbed Buffy by both arms and tried to pull her toward the door. Angrily, Buffy kneed him the stomach and he stumbled backwards with a grunt. At the same time, Xander climbed slowly to his feet and tried to grab the first man around the middle from behind. Oz joined in, trying to help Xander keep a hold of him while Willow watched, horror-struck and silent. Unfortunately, neither boy could stand up to the large man. He punched Xander once in the head with tremendous force and smirked as he collapsed, knocked out cold. Then he turned to Oz and backhanded him across the face. Oz spun and landed across Willow's feet.

"Stay down, boy," the man growled at Oz.

Buffy stared at the man who was poised to lunge at her again and smirked. She was expecting an easy fight. These weren't vampires after all. They were normal, weak, if somewhat beefy, humans. But suddenly, both men tackled her, slamming her back into the tile floor as one sat on her to pin her down and the second whipped out a syringe. Oz struggled to his feet and tried to pull the man off her, but couldn't manage it. Willow was screaming for help. And the needle of the syringe slid into Buffy's slender neck with a sharp pain.

The man sitting on her stood and turned to Oz. He punched Oz in the solarplexus and Oz fell backward. When he landed, he received a kick to the head and fell unconscious. Buffy shoved the second man away from her and surged to her feet, then swayed a bit with the motion. "What the…" she muttered. Shaking her head, she punched the man in the stomach and he flew backwards with a surprised grunt. As she turned to attack the other one, she stumbled backwards into Willow's bed.

"What the hell did you give me!" she demanded angrily, shocked to hear her slurred words.

"Buffy!" Willow cried out, trying to rise from her bed but failing. Buffy didn't have time to turn and reassure her friend, however, and at this point any reassurance might prove to be a lie. The two men grabbed her by her arms and began to drag her from the room. She struggled against them, but found most of her strength had disappeared.

"No!" she yelled, looking for help only to see both Xander and Oz out cold on the floor.

"Buffy!" Willow screamed again, and then she began to chant a spell.

"Will! Don't!" Buffy cried out. Magic would be too dangerous on so many levels right then. And with that realization, Buffy finally began to panic. She struggled against her captors, clawing and biting at their hands and arms, but nothing worked.

The two men dragged her out down the hall kicking and screaming. "No!" she shrieked. "No!"

To nurses and orderlies reacting to her cries, the men replied that they had a court order to detain her, and explained that she was mentally disturbed.

"Someone!" she cried out desperately, "Anyone! Help me!" And finally, though she new he was in surgery, possibly dying, and could not come to her rescue, she screeched: "Giles! Giles! Giles!" again and again as the two men hauled her out of the hospital and into an ambulance. As they strapped her to a gurney, the sedative did its job, and she slipped out of consciousness.

"Rupert, buddy… I'm here to tell you, I'm impressed." Angel cleans Giles' glasses slowly. "Hey, uh…" He slides Giles' glasses back on his nose. "How you holding up?"

Giles looks up at him wearily, pain evident in his eyes. "Never… better…" Defiant to the last.

"Glad to hear it,"Angel says as he kneels beside Giles. "Now… tell me when it hurts."

Then came the blinding pain.

Giles woke with a violent start, sweating profusely, his heart racing, his entire body screaming with pain. Immediately, a cool, soft hand rested on his forehead and he forced himself to relax, whispering: "Buffy?"

"No, Giles. It's me…" said Willow's voice. He nodded silently, and she added, "uh… It's Willow."

He opened one eye to look at her with a shadow of his infamous sardonic glare. "Yes, I could tell by your voice when you spoke. No need to clarify." She gave him a small, watery smile.

"How're you feeling?" she asked him softly.

"Oh bloody marvelous," he said dryly, "like I've been pummeled by a steamroller and then put through a blunder."

Willow winced, "that good, huh?"

He glanced at her and a realization dawned on him. "Wait. What are you doing out of bed? Xander told me you were hospitalized when he brought me in."

"I asked a nurse to wheel me into your room," she replied, indicating the wheelchair she occupied.

"Where are the others?"
"I sent Xander home to get some sleep. He hadn't had any in quite awhile. And Oz offered to go by your place and bring you a couple things – clothes, your spare glasses, a couple books to read, that kind of thing. You know, 'cause Oz is so thoughtful that way. And I thought it'd be a good idea 'cause… 'cause you'd get bored, and a bored Giles is a cranky Giles, and…"

Giles put his hand up and Willow's mouth snapped shut mid-rant. "Willow…" he said quietly. "What's wrong? What's happened? You're rambling and that is never a good sign."

"There's nothing wrong!" she squeaked. "I'm just happy you're okay, which is translating into hyperness, which transformed into rambling… and…"

"Willow…" Giles said sternly.

"What?" she said, still squeaking.

"You're a horrible liar and you know it."

"I… I don't know what you're talking about. Why would I lie? There's nothing going on. It's not like I'm hiding something to spare you or anything crazy like that…" she said, then winced.

Giles paled. "Willow…" he whispered, his voice beginning to tremble as a thought occurred to him. "Where's Buffy?" Willow froze and didn't speak and Giles felt his heart plummet to the bottom of his stomach. Oh God, no… "Willow! Where's Buffy!" he asked, his voice urgent and bordering on panicked.

"I… uh… that is…" Willow stuttered with a pained expression.

Giles shoved himself off his pillow and tried to surge into a sitting position. "My God! Willow, please! Tell me! Oh God, tell me she's alive! Please!" Giles half-sobbed, half-bellowed, his tone and expression furious, panicked and anguished.

"She's alive, Giles. I swear!" Willow exclaimed, trying to surge to her feet in order to calm him down. When she couldn't manage that, she put a hand on his chest and said pleadingly, "Calm down. Please Giles, you'll hurt yourself."

With a deep breath and shudder of pain, Giles eased back against his pillows and said softly: "Willow… tell me where she is. What's happened? Please…" he whispered pleadingly. "Don't torture me like this."

Willow winced at his word choice, took a deep breath, and said softly, "Giles, you have to stay calm or you're going to hurt yourself. Buffy's not hurt. Not physically anyway. She managed to get out of the mansion relatively unharmed. But…"

"But? What, Willow, what!"

"Her mother's had her committed."

"WHAT!"

"She… These two men came here while we were waiting for news about you. They pretty much tackled her and sedated her enough to weaken her, and dragged her off kicking and screaming." Willow's eyes filled with tears. "We tried to stop them. I was going to try a spell but she told me not to. I… I think she was afraid I'd hurt myself." She sniffed sadly.

"Dear Lord," Giles whispered.

"She sounded so scared. I've never heard her so scared, Giles. I could hear her screaming your name all the way down the hall and out the front doors. It was horrible."

Giles went rigid. "Dear Lord, I heard her," he breathed.

"What? How?"

"It was just as the anesthetic was wearing off. I heard her screaming my name. I just thought I was dreaming, but I think I actually heard her."

"If it was about two hours ago, then yes, you probably did," Willow replied softly.

With that, Giles slowly swung his legs off the edge of the bed and set his bare feet carefully on the floor. "Giles!" Willow exclaimed, outraged. "What the heck do you think you're doing! Get back in that bed!"

Giles shook his head. "I'm not leaving Buffy in some insane asylum. I'm checking myself out and then I'm getting her out of there." He very slowly shifted his weight on to his feet. He wobbled a bit, and his entire torso flamed with pain. He couldn't use his left hand to balance because of the broken fingers. But he did manage to stand. That was something.

"Giles, lay back down this instant!" Willow demanded from her wheelchair. "I'm serious!" she shouted. "Resolve fact, Giles. Don't mess with the resolve face." But he silently shook his head and took a shaky step forward, not even bothering to be embarrassed about the open side of his hospital gown in his determination.

As Giles attempted his second step, Oz came in with a bag of Giles' clothes. "Ah, good," Giles said in a calm, business-like manner. "You brought my clothes. Thank you." He held a hand out to Oz and waited.

Oz made no move to hand the clothes over, instead turning to a distraught Willow and saying: "I take it you told him about Buffy…" Willow nodded sadly.

"Oz," Giles said firmly, despite the fact that his balance was quickly wavering. "Please give me my clothes."

"Sorry," Oz said softly, "I can't do that. Now lie back down."

"No. Buffy…"

"—needs our help. But you won't help her if you rip your stitches out or get yourself killed. You need to heal, while we try to talk to Buffy's mom."

"I'll talk to her myself," Giles insisted. Then he tried to take another step and his knees buckled beneath him. Oz caught him just as he was about to crash into the side table and helped him sit down on the edge of the bed. Giles gave him a grateful look, then sighed. Slowly, painstakingly, he slid himself back beneath the sheets. "Alright. I'll stay in bed. Please bring Mrs. Summers here. I need to talk to her."

Oz nodded. And Willow added, "but only if you rest when I tell you to and eat something while Oz gets Mrs. Summers."

"And, actually, its only six in the morning," Oz said, "So we might want to wait a few hours before we drag Mrs. Summers in here."

"Fine," Giles said snapped, irritated. "Just get Buffy's mother here. Soon. We need to talk some sense into the woman."

After a bit of debating, Giles decided to send Xander to retrieve Joyce Summers. She'd always liked Xander best out of all Buffy's friends, and he could pull off the "sincere, pleading, yet determined" act admirably. If Mrs. Summers listened to anybody, which was unfortunately rather unlikely at this juncture, it would be the indomitable and endearing Xander Harris. And so, after allowing him a few more hours sleep, Xander was sent at nine o'clock that morning.

He walked up to the Summers' home on Revello Drive, filled with trepidation and fury, and knocked on the door. Within seconds the door swung open to reveal a much bedraggled, and, if Xander knew the signs at all (which he did), a somewhat hung-over Joyce Summers.

"I shoulda know they'd send you…" Joyce said, her voice hoarse and bitter. "They knew I wouldn't just slam the door in your face," she added. With that, she pushed the door open more and backed up, a silent invitation for him to enter. He did, and walked immediately into the living room to sit on the sofa, leaving Joyce to follow him. Despite the fact that he was in her house, Xander was determined to be the one in control of this conversation.

Silently, Joyce sat in the chair opposite him. And he said softly: "she's not crazy." She simply arched an eyebrow at him, a silent challenge to prove it. "She's not," he insisted. "Everything she told you was true. Everything."

"Even that she was a drummer in a rock band?" Joyce asked sarcastically.

Xander blinked. "Um… except that…" Joyce nodded, as if this statement alone proved beyond a doubt that Buffy was, in fact, quite insane. But Xander quickly added, "that was probably just one of her rambling attempts to hide the real truth from you. But, Mrs. Summers… When she told you she was a vampire slayer and she had to go save the world… That was the truth."

Joyce smirked and shook her head. He stared at her and demanded, "how can you have so little faith in your own daughter?"

"Because she's delusional!" Joyce cried out.

"No, she's not!"

"Yes, she is! You cannot keep playing to her delusions. I don't know why you do it, but it's not healthy for you or for her. She's sick and she needs helps and I intend to make sure she gets it."

"Mrs. Summers! She's not sick! You can't leave her in some nut house!"

'Stop it!" Joyce snapped. "It isn't fair! You cannot put this on me! You cannot lay this on me and expect me to believe it! Maybe you think she'll get better on her own. Maybe you're crazy enough to actually believe her. I don't care. She's staying in that hospital. She has to get better. She has to."

Xander sighed. This wasn't working. Maybe Giles would be able to talk some sense into her. "Fine," he said angrily. "Don't listen to me. But maybe you'll take another adult more seriously. Giles wants to see you. Will you come to the hospital with me?"

"Wait… You're telling me Mr. Giles is going to try to convince me Buffy's telling the truth?" Joyce exclaimed. Xander nodded. "Mr. Giles? The librarian? He knows about all this! He knew and he didn't tell me! Or get her help! How dare he! Yeah, I'll come. I have a few things I need to say to that man, hospital or not!"

Xander winced. That wasn't exactly how he had seen that going. But at least she was going to talk to Giles. Or scream at him, rather. He shrugged. At this point all he could do was cross his fingers and pray.

"You!" Joyce hissed as she stormed into Giles' hospital room, followed quickly by a rather frightened Xander. Startled out his light, half-aware sleep, Giles shot into a sitting position in his bed and blindly reached for his glasses on the side table as he stared at Buffy's mother. "You knew!" Joyce exclaimed. "You knew Buffy was having these delusions and you never said a thing!"

"Mrs. Summers, please calm yourself…" Giles began.
Then he winced as Joyce shouted: "don't you patronize me! Don't you dare patronize me! She's my daughter!"

"Mrs. Summers…"

"Don't 'Mrs. Summers' me. Admit it. You knew about all this."

Giles sighed. "Yes, I knew. But I also know that they are not delusions. Buffy's not crazy."

"Don't give me that!" Joyce bellowed, and Giles suddenly knew precisely where Buffy got her temper. "How can you say that?" she demanded. "Do you have any idea exactly what she told me earlier tonight? Do you have any idea what she expected me to believe?"

"Mrs. Summers…"

"At first I thought she must be lying, like she has been for the last two and half years… about everything. Just like when she told me she was in a rock band earlier this evening, trying to justify wandering around with that punk... that Spike guy…"

"Spike!" Giles gasped, alarmed.

Joyce didn't even hear him and kept on talking. "But then I realized she honestly believed everything she was saying. I could see it in her face!" She paused and stared at Giles, her eyes intense and haunted. "Do you have any idea how terrifying, how heart-breaking it is to hear your own child say all those crazy things, and realize she's gone insane? Do you have any idea!"

"No, I don't. And neither do you, because Buffy has not gone insane."

Joyce ignored him again. "My daughter is sick. And I have to help her in any way I can. And if that means having her institutionalized, then so be it. I'll do whatever it takes."

"How about you try believing her," Xander said furiously from behind Joyce. "I bet that would go a long way toward helping her."

Giles shook his head and said softly, "Xander…" Then he looked to Joyce again and said firmly: "Buffy's not sick."

"Yes, she is!"

Giles took a deep breath, glanced at Xander who simply shrugged, and steeled himself from pandemonium. "Mrs. Summers… Joyce…" he said softly. "You daughter is not crazy. She's not delusional. She wasn't lying to you. And she wasn't making it up. She was telling you the truth, just as I am now." She stared at him and did not speak. "Buffy is a vampire slayer. The Vampire Slayer. Into each generation a Slayer is born. One girl in all the world. A Chosen One. One born with the strength and skill to hunt the vampires, to stop the spread of their evil…"

"Giles…" Xander moaned.

Giles glanced at him and winced as he gave the boy a small shrug. "Sorry," he said softly, "force of habit."

"My God…" Joyce whispered, looking at Giles as if he had grown three heads.

"Joyce. Your daughter is special. She kills vampires and demons, protects innocents from harm. She has saved the world several times over. And once… she even died in the attempt…" he whispered.

"Yeah!" Xander, said, piping in. "And I did CPR and brought her back to life."

"I know all this because I am her Watcher," Giles said, both ignoring Xander. "I train her, protect her, guide her. Now I need you to believe in her. If you give us some time, we can show you we're telling the truth. But you have to be open to the possibilities. You have to give us a chance. You have to trust your daughter."

Joyce paled and for a long, silent moment, Giles thought perhaps that it was finally sinking in. And then she whispered, and her voice was filled with contempt and rage. "It was you…"

"What?"

"It was you. You put all this in her head, didn't you? You told her all these things and somehow convinced her they were true. It was you!"

"Mrs. Summers…"

"Your drove my daughter insane!" Joyce wailed. She walked toward him until she was right beside him, looking down on him. "You bastard! I trusted you. I thought you were helping her in school, guiding her, encouraging her…"

"I was…" he whispered.

"But it was you all along! You were the one changing her. I could never understand why everything she said was filled with Giles-this, and Giles-that… But it was you feeding the delusions, you supplying them. You took her away from me!"

She lunged forward.