"Wait, Amy?" asked Xander, per usual a little slow to the punch.

"No," said Buffy, for the gang had gathered in her home for a meeting the next morning, "Her mom."

"Another evil witch?" Anya balked, "And Willow released her?"

"In my defense," said Willow, "...Well, actually, yeah. That's what happened."

"It's not Will's fault," said Buffy, "Besides, Catherine's a human with a soul. We couldn't let her stay in there forever no matter how much of an evil loony she is. Anyway, I'm not overly panic-ridden over it. I mean, Willow can magick her under the table if she needs to, and I took Catherine fully wasted when I was like fifteen."

"We should still focus on the Hellmouth, probably," Willow agreed, "Who knows? Maybe we'll get Amy and her mom to help us?"

"I wouldn't get your hopes up."

Willow huffed, "Well, excuse me for believing people can change."

There was an awkward silence, and Buffy hung her head guiltily.

Willow's eyes widened, then: "Wait a sec. Do you guys think… Do you think she's gonna hurt Amy?"

"Hey Will?" said Dawn, "You hate Amy."

"I know but…" she eyed them all, "I mean, come on, guys. That woman tried to steal her life. We should at least, like, warn her."

Doubtful looks were traded between her friends.

Now it was Willow's turn to balk. "Guys, seriously?"

"Amy is bad news," said Xander, "I kinda liked the 'no contact' thing for you."

Willow was aghast, "Are you guys for real? Amy is a person! I thought I was the evil one."

"Calm down, Will," said Buffy, and Willow felt like she heard the phrase way too often nowadays, "Willow's right. We have to protect Amy from her mom. Another Freaky Friday might get outta hand and we don't need either of them running around hexing people. Let's not forget Buffy's loopy little cheerleading performance."

"Amy's pretty powerful. She can probably take care of herself," muttered Dawn, and Willow frowned a little at her bitterness.

"Last I checked, she's not with her dad anymore," said Willow, "If she's staying at her mom's, she doesn't have a working phone. 'Magick junky' isn't exactly a career choice that pays the bills." She giggled at her own joke, but no one else did so she cleared her throat, "I can stop by there after class and check—"

"I can stop by and check on her," said Xander, and Willow pouted.

"Sorry Wills," Buffy said, "Can't risk another 'birthday present'. Besides, need we remind you once again: you hate her."

Willow bit her lip. She felt a little sorry for Amy, now. Amy certainly wasn't as bad as Willow was, after all, and if she could change then why couldn't any other witch infected with darkness?

"Xander, just be careful," said Buffy, "No love spells. Okay?"

"Haha," Xander said, "That was the old Xander. The new Xander does not need love spells, for the female persuasion is naturally drawn to the masculine charm of a manly man who works with wood."

He put his arms lazily around Buffy and Willow beside him, who both turned their heads away with a bit of disgust.

"Xander?" said Willow, "Not interested in wood."

"And the only wood Buffy is currently engaged with," Buffy said, "Is the pointy kind."

Xander chuckled that awkward chuckle he does and let the girls go, "I'll check on Amy."

"Hey," Buffy quipped, "Maybe she'll fall for that 'masculine charm' of yours."

"You never know!" said Xander, and the girls rolled their eyes as he headed out the door.

Xander arrived at the rather dilapidated house and knocked on the door casually, like he wasn't about to warn a psychotic witch that her even more psychotic mother might stop by to steal her body again.

He knew the house. When they were kids, Mrs. Rosenberg would occasionally stop here in the morning to pick up Amy for school, and the three of them would snicker and eat candy that Xander had hidden in his school bag in the back seat. Indeed, although Willow's mother, an academic of the sort Xander never really quite knew, was certainly the busiest of all their parents, she also seemed to care the most, at least about the kids getting an education. Emotionally, Willow insisted, her mother was quite distant, and the morning drives to school were the only times it seemed Willow would ever really see Sheila Rosenberg.

Distant didn't seem so bad, Xander thought, compared with how his own parents treated him and each other. Always fighting, his father an alcoholic. Indeed Willow's addiction scared him more than he let on last year, because wouldn't it be awful if she turned into his dad?

Of course—when it came to rocky parent-child relationships, he supposed Amy and Catherine took the cake. Casting a spell on your own child had to be up there on Social Services' list of "do nots". What kind of person would cast a spell to control someone they are supposed to love?

The nasty knot tied up his stomach even before he realized why. And just as his mind began to drift to Tara and what Willow had once done to her, he was rescued from his own thoughts by the front door finally opening and Amy Madison standing behind it.

"Xander?" Amy said.

"Amy! Hi!" said Xander, "Um. Mind if I come in?"

"What's this about? I haven't talked to Willow in months."

"Again I say: can I come in?"

"Yeah," Amy said, and Xander followed her inside where a plate of brownies was waiting on the coffee table.

"Y'know," said Xander, "This place is a little run-down. I could fix it right up for ya. I'm a construction man, now. I work with wood."

"I heard what she did, by the way," said Amy, as though she didn't hear him at all, "Word gets around."

"Your junkie friends tell you?"

"You shouldn't have let her stop, you know," said Amy, "It ever occur to you that I was trying to help her? Everyone knows someone as powerful as Willow can't stop magic cold-turkey. They'd either die or…" She tried to hide her smirk, "Well, I guess you found out the other thing."

"I think you just wanted a friend to get juiced with," said Xander, "Crack let you skip the line with her around, right?"

"His name was Rack," said Amy, "He was a person, okay? Don't you dare laugh about his death."

Xander glanced at the kitchen, where he saw a few boxes of broth on the counter. Something about it disturbed him, but he couldn't put his finger on why. "Making soup?"

"Something like that," said Amy, "Listen, I'm a lot better now. Honest. Light magick and stuff. Seeing what happened to Willow, it made me want to change. Wouldn't want to turn out like my mom."

"That's actually what I came to talk to you about," said Xander, "Thing is, she's back."

"Willow?"

"Your mom."

"What?" said Amy, "How?"

"Kinda accidentally released her from a trophy," said Xander, "We just wanted to warn you. And if you need help—"

"No, I can take her," said Amy quickly, "I've gotten pretty powerful, you know." She offered Xander a brownie and he took one, "In fact, I can help you guys if you ever need. I heard you're down a witch and some spells require—"

"We prefer the other kind of 'heroine' in the Scooby gang, thanks."

"There are only so many drug puns you can make, Xander,"

He grinned, "And I'm not leaving here until I've made them all."

"Oh," said another voice from behind him, and he whipped around to see Catherine herself, fingers sparking, "I don't think you'll be leaving here at all." Then lightning crashed into his head and he blacked out.

Something felt so wrong to Willow as she sat in class. To be fair, everything felt wrong to her nowadays—she was wrong, after all, and so was whatever was going on with the Hellmouth and the ground beneath her feet—but today she was filled with an inexplicable anxiety that made her want to bolt from the lecture hall.

And when class ended, she was indeed the first one out, though normally she would have been known to stay behind and bombard her professors with lingering questions as they made their ways to their next classes. She found a payphone and called the house, though she didn't expect anyone to be home.

"Hello?" came the Slayer's voice.

"Buffy? You're home."

"Yep," Buffy said, "Early shift. What's up? You sound a little–"

"Is everything okay?" Willow panted.

"Uh, yeah," Buffy said, "Why?"

"I just feel like…" Willow stuttered, her thoughts muddled, words coming out in short gasps, "Something feels wrong. Is the air heavier to you?"

"Hey Will. Breathe," said Buffy, "How serious is this? Ever since you came back from England you've been right about a lot. If you say something is wrong, I feel inclined to believe you."

"No, sometimes I'm just crazy," said Willow, "The magick does weird things to me. I mean, I can feel all the… I mean, the whole world, so… So everyone's okay?"

"Yeah," said Buffy, "Dawn's at school. Anya's at Giles'. Xander is…" Buffy paused, "Huh," she said, "I actually haven't heard from him since this morning. He's probably at work."

"Since he went to Amy's?" Willow felt dread settle in her chest. Her heart raced.

"You haven't heard from him either?" Buffy said, now herself anxious, "I'll call his house and the site."

Willow didn't answer. Buffy felt like she could feel her spiraling through the phone.

"Will?" said Buffy, "Don't panic. It's probably fine. And if it's not, we can handle Amy and we can handle her mom. Whichever it is."

Willow was about to respond, but the call dropped. She stepped back from the payphone—it was smoking, short-circuited. She looked at her hands, could see power snaking through her veins. She stumbled towards the bathroom, but it felt too far. She caught her reflection in a window and her knees almost buckled when she saw black eyes.

She reached into her bag, grabbed a pair of sunglasses that she used for driving. She had another class, but she could see sparks of energy flying from her fingertips. She sat in the middle of the hallway, legs crossed, breathing, trying to meditate. But when she shut her eyes all she could see were imagined images of Xander tortured; dead.

When she arrived back at the house, she fiddled frustratedly with the lock on the door when the key wouldn't turn. She felt rushed; every second she spent futzing with the lock was a second Xander could be dying. Power slipped from her fingers and the door opened. Had she done that on purpose? It didn't matter.

"Hey Will," said Buffy. Dawn was home from school now, and she sat in the kitchen.

Buffy sat in a chair across from the couch and seemed to be waiting for Willow to sit as well.

Willow didn't feel like sitting; she wanted to run to wherever Xander was, or at least pace in circles around the room until they had a plan. She could feel the energy in the room, and she knew Buffy had bad news.

"You can take off the sunglasses," said Buffy, "We're inside."

Willow just stared at her, and when Buffy got the gist she seemed to sit up straighter—Willow saw her morph into battle-mode, which made sense because a villain sat before her.

"Um," Buffy hesitated, "So… I called Xander,"

To Willow it felt like Buffy was taking years to get her words out. They didn't have time for her to tiptoe around her!

"Uh, well…"

"Buffy!" said Willow, "Spit it out!"

"No one can get in touch with him," said Buffy, "We think something happened at Amy's."

Willow knew it along, but hearing it from Buffy, their leader, made it all too real. They deal with this kinda stuff all the time, don't they? Willow herself had been kidnapped, drugged, and used as Slayer-bait a number of times. But she didn't have this power, then. What would she have done, had she had this power when Xander was near-raped by a praying mantis when they were children, or when he was transformed into a hyena?

When Willow didn't respond, Buffy sighed in relief, "But we'll save him. We always do."

Willow stood up so fast that Buffy did too on instinct, like Willow was a vampire rising from its grave. "You should have let me go!" shouted Willow, "I'm a witch! I can handle witches! But it was safer to send Xander than to send me, because you trust Xander. And now someone has him, and he's gonna get hurt!" Willow was seething.

Buffy realized, then, that it wasn't just Tara. That if something happened to anyone else Willow loved… would it happen all over again?

"Will, we need to focus, okay? It won't help him if you go all veiny."

"Says who?" Willow muttered. It was frightening and Buffy's blood ran cold. Willow took off her glasses to fiddle with them nervously, and Buffy prepared herself for the dead blackness in Willow's eyes that still disturbed her every time she saw it.

But Willow's eyes were green, and Buffy tried not to show her relief. She didn't feel relief though, not quite. Why would Willow say that? Was it that she was frustrated, trying to get a rise out of them? And was the panicked, angry woman before her really just who her friend had become, and not the result of evil magicks?

"It didn't help Tara," Dawn said—almost too quietly for Buffy to pick it up, even with Slayer hearing. But Willow heard it, senses supercharged, and she was reminded of her blood-soaked vengeance spell.

And Buffy did hear it, barely, and she seemed angered or scared that Dawn mentioned Tara's name, like it was a terrible trigger, itself an incantation that would set the witch off. But Willow sighed and she sat down. She buried her face in her hands.

"Oh man," said Willow, "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know why I'm freaking out, I—" she shook her head, like it would loosen some of the more distressing thoughts, "—I don't know where focused, level-headed research girl went. Anyone see her?"

No one really knew what to say. Willow stared at the floor for a really long moment, and then she looked up at Buffy.

Their eyes met, both green, and Willow said: "We don't have time for this. We gotta get Xander."

And it didn't take long before the slayer came up with some semblance of a plan.

"I'll go to Amy's," Buffy announced, "Find which witch is witching, conk her on the head, and save Xander," she shrugged, "Easy as pie. And then we'll have pie."

"Okay, so I'm a little confused about your choice of singular pronoun," said Willow, "Buffy. I'm going," said Willow.

"Willow, I don't think it's a good idea for you to be around—"

"You told me that I was our weapon against witches. If you go in there and something happens to you too—" Her voice cracked. What scared her more: Buffy's possible demise or the destruction her own reaction to it would bring? "Buffy, I am here to help you guys. What was even the point of me coming here? Let me help Xander."

"Do you…" Buffy said, "I mean, do you feel… okay?"

"I'm good now," said Willow, "I know what I'm doing and I can help."

Buffy looked deep into Willow's eyes. Willow wasn't sure if she was looking for sincerity or darkness.

"That wasn't the magick, was it?" whispered Buffy.

"Not all of it. I guess I'm a different Willow, now. How did you know?"

"Your eyes. They were green." Willow seemed surprised by that. There was a little silence. Mournful, maybe.

"Buffy," said Willow, "You gotta trust me. I know I make it really, really hard, but I promise you. I'm in control for now. You can trust me."

Buffy sighed, "Okay."

So they walked to the house, the tension quickly diminishing with the early evening air. Buffy thought she saw a bounce in Willow's step that hadn't been there a moment ago.

"What are you so happy about?" asked Buffy.

"Oh, it's just…" Willow looked away in shame, "Well, it's kind of like old times, isn't it? The Scooby Gang, together again, investigating a creepy house, saving the damsel in distress…"

"Xander can never know you called him that." They approached the door of the house, and Buffy tested the lock.

"Dude in distress," said Willow, "My damsel days are long over. Sometimes I miss them."

"Felt like it was one of you in some demon's lair every week."

"Moloch the Corruptor wasn't as scary as my dark side," sighed Willow.

With a burst of muscle Buffy yanked the door open, breaking the lock. She motioned for Willow to be quiet.

"Hey Will," whispered Buffy, "I know you're excited to save Xander 'n all, but try to hold back on the magick. Amy's mom sucked you dry last night when you cast that spell at her, and this whole thing has 'trap' written all over it."

"I'll only use it if I need it," nodded Willow.

Willow really did seem better, and Buffy couldn't believe that the woman had seemed on the brink of a pitch black dye job less than an hour ago. Maybe she really didn't understand Willow's power. And it upset her, too, that she didn't seem to understand her friend's mind, either.

They entered the house, and immediately upon crossing the threshold each woman was filled with what could only be described as 'the wiggins'.

"It's… creepier than I remember," said Buffy.

Willow nodded, "It's been abandoned for six years."

"It's kinda big," said Buffy, "Has it always been this big?

"I think it's…" Willow spun around, studying the various doors and hallways. It was bigger on the inside. "Hey Buff. You ever watch Doctor Who?"

"Will, I'm not a nerd."

They kept walking, and Buffy thought she saw Xander ahead of them, "Xander!"

Willow was confused, for all she saw was an empty hall. And when Buffy ran towards the mirage, a door slammed shut between them.

Buffy looked behind her, the image of Xander having disappeared. "Will!"

"Can you break it?" Willow asked.

"Maybe eventually," said Buffy, pulling on the door handle and feeling a barrier when she tried to punch the wood.

"It must be magically enhanced. I don't think I can get through either without some major mojo."

"I think this whole place is magically enhanced, Will."

"Hmm," Willow hummed, "Well, I guess all we can do is keep looking. I'm gonna head upstairs."

"I'll check the basement," Buffy said, noticing a lone staircase heading down.

It was like a haunted house, Willow mused, and it occurred to her that one witch couldn't possibly have done this on her own.

She came to a long hallway with so many doors she couldn't guess which one held Xander.

She kicked off her shoes and shut her eyes. She did not cast, she only honed—Giles had been very adamant about honing in England—She tuned into her senses, and was able to pick out one door, could feel a life-force behind it. Or two.

She opened it, and there Xander was, bound to the opposite wall with chains made of energy. "Xander!" she called. She ran for him, but she was still wary of the other person she knew was in the room.

Then out of the shadows stepped Catherine Madison with an evil smirk on her face.

"It's you," Catherine said, "The little witch."

"I'm average height," Willow huffed, "What do you want? What did you do with Amy?"

Willow heard the door shut behind her, and turned to see that Amy herself had entered.

"You think my mother still has power over me?" Amy asked, "I'm twenty-three years old, Willow. Give or take a few years as a rat."

"But–" Willow stuttered, "Are you… are you guys in this together?"

"Afraid you can't take both of us, Strawberry?" Amy asked.

Willow grit her teeth, "Amy, you know how powerful I am. Please, it's not exactly healthy to tick me off."

"Oh, we know how powerful you are," said Catherine, and she flung a burst of energy at Willow. Willow side-stepped it, the attack sloppy.

"Don't wanna use your magick?" Amy asked, preparing a fireball of her own, "Come on. Let's make this interesting."

Amy threw her fireball at Willow, and Willow was able to lunge out of the way, leaping towards the center of the room. If she didn't know any better, she might have thought the witches were missing on purpose.

"Not if I don't have to," Willow said.

"You're no fun anymore, Will," said Amy. "Remember how good it felt to just… let go?"

"What do you want?" Willow demanded, "Why kidnap Xander? He's never done anything to either of you."

Catherine came at Willow with supernatural speed, but Willow's training in England came in handy—she could dodge and block most of the woman's punches naturally. Willow remembered being knocked unconscious by the same woman with Amy's fist as a teenager.

"Let him go," said Willow, "I'm warning you."

"Enough warnings. What are you afraid of, Will?" said Amy, "Afraid you'll go dark again? Kill us like you killed Rack?"

"Is that what this is about?" Willow asked, "Don't tell me you miss him,"

"I do," said Amy, "But that doesn't matter. He didn't deserve to die."

Willow had been so filled with guilt over Warren, but she'd hardly considered Rack a human. But he did have a soul, didn't he? He was a human, just like her, who'd been so corrupted by magicks that he seemed like a monster. Would Willow have become that? Goddess, she had become a monster, hadn't she?

"Amy, I have a whole guilt complex about it already and I'm really sorry. If that's your problem, let Xander go and take it out on me. He didn't kill Rack."

"This isn't about Rack," said Catherine.

"It's about power," Amy finished, and the two held hands, sending a heavy bookcase across the room and directly towards Xander.

He screamed and Willow reacted fast. She cast a spell that split the bookcase in two, each half falling to the side before it could hit her friend.

She sighed in relief—but then sudden agony exploded in her stomach and she doubled over in pain.

Fire ripped through her chest, her fingers burning like they'd been filled with needles. She blinked her eyes, trying to get her bearings. She was seeing double, her vision unfocused. Her knees buckled.

"Willow!" she heard Xander scream.

"What… what is this?" Willow choked, "What are you doing to me?"

She looked up, could see blurred forms resembling the two women before her. She felt so weak, like she was dying.

"Hey Strawberry," Amy whispered in her ear, "You weren't using it anyway. Mind if we take a turn?"

Then they each thrust a palm against Willow's chest and she screamed as light ran up the witches' arms. And when it was over, Willow collapsed to the ground in a daze.

Mother and daughter stumbled back, giddy; high.

"What you have…" Catherine said, "Oh, this is something special. I've never…"

A voice from the hall penetrated the room, then: "Will!"

"The slayer's coming," said Amy, "We should go. She ruins all the fun."

"Go?" Catherine asked, "Why? We could kill her with a snap of our fingers."

"If you want to hurt Buffy, you don't want to kill her. The girl's suicidal." Amy glanced at Willow, "I think this is going to hurt Buffy just a little more. You know, emotionally."

And with that the two teleported away, Xander's magickal bind breaking as he fell to the floor.

Finally finding her way from the maze she'd been trapped in, Buffy ran in. The first thing she saw was Xander, and she went to help him up. "You good, Xand?"

"Yeah. But they hurt Willow."

Willow was slowly, shakily moving to stand. Buffy went to her, helping her up and inspecting her for injuries.

"Will?" Buffy said, "You okay? I heard you scream."

Willow didn't answer. She looked around like she was seeing the room for the first time, and then at her hands like she'd never seen them before.

"They did something to her." Xander said.

"They… they took it," said Willow, "They took my magick."