Willow had recovered, thanks to her powers, but she spent so much time in her room that even once she felt all better the other residents of the Summers home hardly ever saw her.

There was a knock at her door, and she expected that it was Buffy checking on her. Willow was curled up on the bed facing the window, and when she heard Dawn's voice she was so surprised that she shot up and turned to face her.

Dawn flinched at the sudden movement, and Willow was filled with shame at the reaction. She wanted to say 'Don't be scared,' but she felt like she shouldn't speak unless Dawn invited her to.

"Hey Will," said Dawn, "How are you feeling?"

That was an invitation, she supposed – "Better. I can think straight now."

"'Straight' is an interesting word choice."

"Haha. Funny. 'Cause I'm gay, right?"

"That was the joke, Will. Less funny when you explain it."

"Yeah, because all of this is so funny."

There was an awkward, sticky silence.

"Hey, Will?" said Dawn, "I'm not mad at you."

That caught Willow by surprise. "Really? Why not?"

"Because when you turned to look at me, just before that knife came flying, I saw the fear in your eyes. That wasn't evil Darth veiny Willow. That was you doing everything you could to bury her."

"Hmm," Willow said.

"I just… I want you to know that you don't have to hide from me or anything. I'm not mad."

"I'm not hiding 'cause I think you're mad. I just don't wanna hurt you."

"I mean," said Dawn, "Look, I've had a nonstop revolving door of Big Bads trying to 'hurt me' in just the last two years, and none of them have succeeded. Buffy will stop you."

"I'm a lot more powerful than Buffy."

"If all it takes her is a punch in the face, I think we'll be okay." She takes a beat, "Will you come downstairs and have dinner with us tonight? As a family?"

Willow thought, looked into Dawn's earnest eyes. The teenager's attitude was a full 180 from the one she'd had when Willow first arrived. And what did Willow do to deserve so much compassion?

"I'll do you one better," said Willow, "I'll cook tonight. I can make latkes."

"Can I help?"

"Sure."


Was it possible that all this had brought them all closer together? Willow no longer felt like she was just boarding at the Summers home while they worked to fight the next big evil; she felt like she lived there. And in contributing to the housework, cooking and cleaning between school and research to free up Buffy's time, she felt far more useful than she had when she'd been recovering from her addiction last year.

"Can I take Dawn to school tomorrow?" Willow asked Buffy one evening, "Because I know Xander has work early and you should sleep in."

"Actually," Buffy said, "I was gonna go investigate the new pit. It's kinda on the way home."

Willow looked disappointed that she wasn't able to help more.

"Hey, wanna come with?" said Buffy, "Maybe if we look at one of these things together we'll see something we couldn't before."

"Yes!" Willow said too fast, "I mean, yeah. That'd be cool."


The new Sunnydale High was bright, inviting in such a way that it urged onlookers to forget the fate of its predecessor.

But beside it, where construction was still completing, that memory stayed alive, remains of the last Sunnydale High sleeping in the form of trash and rubble in a mound preparing to head for a landfill or something.

"Bye Dawnie!" said Willow, waving with caffeinated energy, "Have fun!"

"I won't!" Dawn called back.

"I'll pick you up later," Buffy said, smiling at her sister and feeling too much like a mom.

Once Dawn had gone, Willow took a look around, "So this is the new SDHS, huh? Ours was more rustic. Had knowledge in its walls, you know?"

"I think it mostly had gum under the desks, Will."

"Right." She paused awkwardly for a moment, stopping in her tracks as the two walked back to the car, "Do you feel that?"

Buffy furrowed an eyebrow and looked around, "I guess there's a draft?"

"Your spidey-senses. Nothing?"

"Just the regular 'hey, we're on the Hellmouth' stuff. What's up?"

"I don't know. I sense something… It's familiar, but it's off."

"No offense, Will, but your witchy mother nature Earth senses are pretty vague. How do you know you're not sensing something in Ohio?"

"It's here. I feel something."

"Okay, but what?"

"Power." Willow said, walking off in a direction as Buffy scrambled to follow her.

They came to the construction site behind the finished school, and climbing the ladder down into the site Willow made her way to the mounds of trash.

"Uh, Will? This is garbage."

"But it's Hellmouth garbage. There's… there's something in here."

"So what?" said Buffy, "We're gonna… dig through the trash 'cause of your… feeling?"

"You don't have to," said Willow, "But I'm gonna. It feels… it feels wrong. Sad, almost. Trapped. It's too familiar. I have to…" She glimpsed something, a spark of sunshine glinting off rusted gold, poking through the rubble between an old textbook and a scorched baseball cap.

Willow neared it, Buffy suddenly serious and following her closely. They both knelt before it.

"What is it?" asked Willow.

"One way to find out." Buffy tossed aside some angry rubble, leaving the object open to the air.

"A statue?" asked Willow. She reached for it, that feeling getting stronger as she neared it. She picked it up – and then it fell from her grip as the power overwhelmed her.

"Will!" said Buffy, "You okay?"

"Yeah. It's just… wow."

"So what are we thinking?" said Buffy, "Cursed? What're your witchy wiggins tellin' you, Will?"
Willow picked it up again, braced herself for the surge of power this time and stood her ground, "I think…" She looked into the eyes of the statue – a trophy, she realized. For the first time she recalled seeing it in the trophy case at Sunnydale High with Oz. Had she felt this then, too, before she'd realized her power? The eyes seemed to glare at her, "I think something's trapped in here. Or someone."

"Okay," said Buffy, "Bad something or good something? Because in my experience a lot of somethings that are trapped inside of other things are usually there for a reason."

"I can't tell," said Willow, "It doesn't feel evil, but it feels wrong. Bad, but not demony."

"Well," said Buffy, "Let's take her home and see what we can find out. Maybe you can do some mojo on it. No releasing cheerleading demons, though."


They left the statue in the car when they stopped by the newest pit, which had been reported about in the news. The girls helped each other climb into it, and Willow lit a glowing orb so they could see better.

"Looks just like all the others," said Buffy, "I'm getting pretty sick of caves."

"Have you guys gone deeper yet?" Willow asked, noting the steep tunnel on one side of the wall.

"No," said Buffy, "It seems like a bad idea."

"It is," said Willow, placing her hand on the rocks, "There's hundreds of demons back there. None of us are ready for that."

"Hm," said Buffy. "Hey. It's one of those altar things you were talking about."

She was right. It was similar to the last one she'd seen, crudely erected and surrounded by similar ingredients.

"Hm," said Willow.

"What's it do?"

"I don't know," Willow said, handling a slice of cheese. "What kind of ritual uses Swiss?"

"What does it feel like to you?" said Buffy.

"The altar?"

"No," Buffy said, "The cave. I'm no witch, but even I can tell… This is more powerful than anything we've faced."

"Yeah," Willow said, "It feels like power. Darkness. Y'know, the usual." She paused, feeling dishonest in her nonchalance. "There's this… When a new pit opens, and I black out, and I have those fun little visions. It's like nothing is real for a second. And everything gets numb and my vision goes black, and it's like the only moment where all the stuff in my head shuts up for a sec. And it's like Hell is the only real thing. Like all of this," she gestures towards the sunlight at the mouth of the cave, and then at Buffy and herself, "It's like all of this is just some delusion. And y'know? I know darkness, I understand it. So when it's happening… it's a lot less scary than when I have to face the real world."

Willow hadn't realized how much she had been revealing. She hadn't understood it herself, until she said it out loud.

"You're drawn to it," said Buffy. She was reminded of something that had happened to her last year, of her time believing she was in a mental asylum.

"Whatever's in this cave isn't as frightening as what's in me," said Willow.

"And maybe that's good for us." Buffy smiled, "Ready to go home? Have a look at our little trophy?"

The project excited Willow – another distraction was always good. She nodded and they were quickly on their way.


At home, Willow stared for at least an hour at the trophy. Buffy went to make a sandwich, unsure how to help. Every time she went to check on her, Willow was still staring.

"Will?" Buffy finally said, and Willow jumped. "Find anything out?"

"No," said Willow, "I think I need to do a spell. What if there's a student stuck in there or something?"

"Or a big pointy demon."

"Well yeah." Willow turned back to the statue, "I can cast a spell. Just to reveal what's in it. I'm just worried. I'm afraid that its power will make me lose control. There's something dark."

"Will," said Buffy, "I trust you to know your limit. We'll find another way if you don't wanna. This thing gave you the major wiggins; if something demony pops out of there,I'm here to fight it. And if, well.."

"I know," said Willow, "You'll stop me."

There was a long, long silence, Willow looking back and forth between Buffy, the statue, and her own hands. Then she sighed, "Okay – let's do it now, while the others aren't here. That way no one will get hurt if anything… goes wrong." Willow breathed, "I'll grab some ingredients."


And fifteen minutes later Willow had taken off her shoes and was sitting cross-legged on the grass outside. She lit a candle and placed it before the statue, the fire glinting in its eyes.

Buffy shivered in the nighttime breeze, "So what's this spell?"

"Standard Sight spell. I call upon the goddess Theia and an image of whatever's inside reveals itself in my mind. Real simple." She sighed, hesitating.

"We don't have to if you don't wanna, Will."

Willow almost looked like she was going to turn around and go back inside. But she didn't, "No," she said, "What is the point of having this power if I'm not gonna help people with it? I've certainly hurt enough."

She put her hands on the Earth beside her and stared the trophy down. She nodded briefly at Buffy and then began, "I call you, Theia. Give me the Sight: Reveal!"

And on that last word, she gripped the statue. But something was wrong – in her mind's eye she did not see a vision of whomever was trapped in the trophy, but instead red hot agony exploded behind her eyelids. She gasped, tried to drop the statue but could not flex her fingers. Her hands burned, it felt like her blood was draining through her nails. She cried out, and it was apparent to Buffy that something had gone wrong, "Will!"

Finally, Willow dropped the statue as a blinding light filled the yard. They both shielded their eyes, and when the light had dissipated a new figure had appeared in the yard.

"Will," said Buffy, disoriented but her priorities still on her friend.

"That wasn't supposed to happen," said Willow, "How are my eyes? Am I okay?"

"Your eyes are fine, Will," said Buffy, "Green."

"You," said a voice. Something was behind Buffy, and Willow squinted at it in the dark, "The Slayer."

"That's me," said Buffy, "Who's asking?"

The figure stood upright, walked awkwardly from the shadows into the moonlight.

Buffy bit her lip – the woman was familiar but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Willow knew, though: "Mrs. Madison?"

"Who?" asked Buffy.

"Amy's mom!" Willow said, "Remember? With the cheerleaders and the witchery?"

"Jeeze, that was like ten years ago."

"Six and a half," Willow said.

"You left me in that statue," Catherine seethed, "For six years."

"Whoa, hey," Buffy said, "I didn't put you in there! I didn't know you were in there. How is this my fault?"

"You deflected my spell. And then I was trapped," Catherine said, "I remember it like it was yesterday."

"Okay," Buffy said, "So that sounds like it was way your fault."

Willow groaned, then, and Buffy turned her attention back to her, "That spell…" Willow said, "It wasn't supposed to free you."

"Hey, what'd you do to her?" Buffy accused.

"That girl sent magic my way and I took it for myself, used to break free. Finally." She studied Willow for a moment, "You – you were Amy's friend, weren't you?"

"Once," Willow said, "Not anymore."

"That bitch," spat Catherine, "I'll find her."

"Buffy, what do we do?" asked Willow, "Evil witch, back from the grave, hankering to kill us and my nemesis?"

"Think those rehab guys in England got space for another one?"

"It doesn't matter what you want to do with me," said Catherine, "I'm walking out of here."

"Not if I have something to say about it," said Willow, "And the thing that I have to say… is a spell: Hold!" She held out her hand and winced in embarrassment when nothing happened. She turned to Buffy, "I'm too weak. She really drained me."

"Well, I have something to say about it, too!" said Buffy, lunging for the woman.

But Catherine sent her flying with a wave of her hand, "That's some power you got, Willa. I'd love another taste of that." And then she vanished.

Willow crawled over to Buffy, who was just dusting herself off, "Buff, I'm really sorry."

"It's not your fault," Buffy said.

"But if only I wasn't so interested in that damn statue."

"No one with a soul deserves to be trapped for all eternity. Even if they are a major bitch." Buffy sighed, "Look, who even knows what she's gonna do? Let's keep an eye out – we've dealt with Catherine Madison before and we can totally do it again."


Where would Catherine Madison go but to find her only daughter? She checked her ex-husband's home, sneaking around with a spell of invisibility. But there was no sign that Amy had been there in the last couple of months.

So she went to her own abandoned home. She could sense someone inside even before she heard shuffling. She opened the door slowly, deciding whether she would kill her daughter on the spot or have more fun with her.

She made her way into the kitchen, where she'd heard noise. She stepped in with confident swagger, hands outstretched. But her daughter wasn't there, the fridge left open its the door swaying slightly.

She turned, confused, only to be faced with Amy Madison's angry eyes behind her own outstretched fingers, an invisible force shoving Catherine against the open fridge.

"Mom!" Amy seethed.

"You started casting?" Catherine struggled against the magical binds, "You're good. Glad to see at least some talent runs in the family."

Amy shoved her mother harder, but Catherine spread out her arms and escaped her hold. Amy stepped back, some fear in her eyes, years of trauma coming back to haunt her in the woman that stood before her.

"Are you high?" Catherine asked, "Jesus. Magick is a tool, Amy. Not a drug." She studied her for a moment, "At least you've lost weight."

"I'm an adult, Mom. I don't need your advice." She paused, "But you're right. I'm juiced and you probably don't want to fight me. I have a lot of power."

"I'm impressed."

Amy was taken aback, like they were words she'd never heard before from the woman's mouth. Her guard went down a little. "What… happened to you?"

"I was stuck in a fucking cheerleading trophy for six years. What about you?"

"I was a rat for three," said Amy.

"Let me guess. Buffy Summers?"

"More like her friend."

"That redhead girl started practicing too. I never noticed how powerful she was when she used to come over. She's more powerful than you."

"Will you stop comparing me to my friends?"

"She's still your friend?"

"No. I hate her more than anyone. Except maybe you." Amy clenched her fists, "She had more than enough power to make me human and waited years. She stole my dealer's attention and then killed him. She was my only friend and then she left and blamed all her problems on me. I did everything I could to hold onto her. I gave her power and she dropped me like a hot potato."

"So why didn't you take care of her?"

"She is more powerful than anyone I've ever met. It's not fair. She doesn't have to work for it, doesn't even have to try. I can't touch her."

"Buffy Summers took my life away," said Catherine, "I hate the Slayer and you hate her best friend. As individuals we might not stand a chance. But as mother and daughter? I say we put our differences aside and put them in their place."

Amy grit her teeth in consideration. And then, slowly, she nodded.