"Why didn't you call me?" Giles asked.
"We did ," said Buffy, "You're a tough guy to reach."
"I must have already been on my flight. I wanted to surprise you." Giles sighed, "Is she okay?"
"Hi," said Willow, who sat on the couch with her head hung shamefully, "I'm right here. You can ask me."
"I'm sorry," said Giles, "How do you feel, Willow?"
"Not great," Willow shrugged. "I felt fine before. All of a sudden it just kinda hit me."
"Can you be more specific?"
"I dunno, Giles. Kinda woozy, maybe gonna puke. Head's killing me. Hey, is it cold in here?" The question was odd, because Giles could see beads of feverish sweat forming on her forehead. Willow looked up at him, "I feel like… all the lights in my head turned off. And it's like, there's a fire. But we're almost outta kindling, and I'm this close to pitch black."
"Amy Madison did this? The rat?" Giles asked.
"And her mom," said Buffy, "They teamed up to screw with us. Didn't think they'd manage to screw us this hard, though."
"Maybe we're all jumping to conclusions here," said Willow, "How do we know this has anything to do with my magicks? I mean, maybe I just have the flu, and once I get better I can go on living magick-free?" She smiled weakly.
"I highly doubt it, Willow," said Giles, "The magick—"
"—Yeah yeah, it's a part of me; it's not that simple; blah blah blah."
"Oh!" said Xander, "Coulda just been a funky interior design choice, but from my vantage point chained to the wall I saw this drawn on the floor," He sketched a crude sigil on a piece of paper, "Kinda like they lured Will right to the middle of it."
Taking the piece of paper, Giles studied it for a moment before pulling off his glasses and cleaning them. It wasn't a good sign to any of them. "Oh dear," he said.
"Giles," Xander said, "Hey, Giles, don't leave us hanging on 'oh dear'. Is she gonna be okay?"
Giles turned away, pacing a little, "Um," he said, "Yes. She'll be fine. We just have to find Amy and her mother."
"Okay," said Buffy, "But, just out of curiosity… what happens if we don't?"
"Then I'll die, right?" Willow said, "I can feel it, I think."
"It is the… most likely outcome, yes," said Giles.
"How'd they do it, anyway?" asked Dawn, "I mean, it's not like what…" she cleared her throat, "I mean, it's not like… other… magick-sucking we… may or may not have heard about…"
"What Willow did to Rack and myself was a direct power transfer. Something like that would kill a witch like Willow instantly. It also takes an immense amount of power, more than I'm sure Amy and her mother have, even combined," he explained, "What they've done, it's a cheat of sorts. It's a Siphoning. Instead of stealing Willow's power directly, they've, erm, cut off the supply—redirected its flow. They are funneling Willow's magick into themselves, but she's still technically connected to its source. Which which is why she's not…—"
"—Dead," said Willow, "Yet."
"Well how long do we have?" asked Xander, a little frantic, "I mean, how long do we have to find these ladies before…"
"I'll have to talk with the coven," said Giles, "But…" he kneeled before Willow, put a hand on her cheek, "And it depends how quickly Amy and her mother are using Willow's power…"
"Knowing them," said Buffy, "It's probably pretty fast."
"I can't imagine we have much more than a day."
"A day?" asked Xander, "No, Giles. We have no idea where they went. We need more than a day."
Giles sighed. He was too tired for this, running on jetlagged fumes, "I will talk to the coven," he said, feigning calmness, internally drowning in worry, "Maybe there is something they can do to delay the… to delay it."
Willow looked in his eyes. She could see it, even if the others couldn't: the fear, the concern. The same dread that she saw in his eyes the day he took her to have her magick removed by the coven.
So, as the gravity caught up with everyone, research continued: a search for a way to reverse the spell from their end and the search for Amy and her mother.
"So where could the Madisons be?" asked Buffy, "The high school?"
"No," said Xander, "Seemed like Catherine is finally past the cheerleading phase."
Willow had a book in front of her, something about magical energy, but her mind was filled with a fog so thick she couldn't bring herself to read it. She tried to focus on the conversation her friends were having instead, but that too felt exhausting. She dozed off briefly, and she had a strange, quick dream: a man with glasses offered her a slice of cheese.
She jolted awake. "Oh!" she exclaimed, "I know where they are."
"Will," said Xander, "You can't even be smarter than the rest of us on your deathbed. It makes us look really bad."
"This isn't my deathbed," Willow pouted, "This is my living-couch. Maybe a slightly under-the-weather futon. Anyway, wherever the last pit opened. That's where you'll find them."
"How do you know?" asked Buffy, "I mean, you don't have your powers so—"
"Hey, I was pretty clever before I did magick too, remember? Look, remember those altars that keep popping up in the craters? The cheese isn't part of the spell, it's a snack! Amy was a rat for three years, she's all about cheese and crackers and stuff. She must be the one doing all this. I mean, I don't know how but—" She coughed into her arm, and saw drops of red staining her sleeve. Her eyes widened in fear—was it really this bad?—but she rolled up her sleeve discretely and hid the blood from her friends, "So let's go get them."
"Will, you gotta stay here," said Xander, "Can you even stand?"
"Of course I can stand," said Willow, and she glanced at the floor, preparing to demonstrate but the feat seeming mountainous, "I mean, not right now. But I definitely can."
"You've gotta save your strength, Will," said Buffy, "We'll get 'em back here and do whatever we need to do to get you up and running again. Giles can come and help with any magick stuff."
Willow's wide eyes turned to Giles. She glared at him, accusatory.
"Uh," Giles said, "No, I should stay here with Willow. I understand her powers best, I took care of her in England. And I can do some more research on what sort of spell we will need to perform to have her magick transferred back, should Amy and her mother refuse to do so willingly. I really must speak with the coven as well."
"Uh, okay," said Buffy, "Then we'll take Anya. Maybe she can work that same mojo we used on Willow last year."
So Buffy gathered her weapons and Xander gathered his wits, and the two prepared to leave. At the door, they turned back.
"Will—" Buffy started.
"Oh no," said Willow, "Don't say your goodbyes or nothing. I'll be fine."
Buffy smiled weakly.
"Tape the new Frasier for me, will ya?" Xander quipped, "Didn't realize I was gonna be out tonight."
Once the door shut, Willow was left with just Giles and Dawn.
"Lie down, Willow," urged Giles, "Let me help you to the bed."
"Giles," said Willow, "I'm fine. You've seen me worse."
Giles' breath hitched in his throat. He didn't like to think about it, the torture Willow had endured when the coven first tried to take her powers—how he'd allowed it.
"You remember that?" he asked.
"Barely," said Willow, "But I remember that you stopped it."
"I told them to do it in the first place," said Giles, "I thought it was best. I was wrong."
Willow considered fighting him on that, but the ' they should have taken my powers' argument was getting stale and Willow didn't have the energy for it. She shivered, "I'm so darn cold."
Giles put his hand on her face, "No, you're burning up."
"I haven't been sick in years," Willow mused, "I think my powers protected me."
"Here," Dawn announced, approaching with a tray, "The full Dawn Summers care package. Chicken Noodle Soup, a bottle of aspirin, a coloring book and, of course, chocolate."
Willow smiled, giddy, "Dawnie, that's so sweet. Don't worry, I'll be a-okay."
Dawn grinned a little, but she'd heard that before and it never seemed to end that way. She decided she ought to give Willow and Giles a chance to catch up, so she retreated to her bedroom.
Willow went to take a sip of soup, but she noticed Giles staring at her.
"Giles? I know I must be a sight for sore eyes but your eyes can't be that sore."
"What?" said Giles, "Oh, sorry. I missed you. It's… heartbreaking to see you this way."
"Thank you for coming," said Willow, "I mean, I'll be fine but… I mean, I'm glad I got to see you before… if…"
"If there is anyone that I know can beat this, Willow," said Giles, "It's you. You are the strongest person I know, and I'm not talking about the magicks."
"I think Buffy is the strongest person you know," said Willow, "Traditionally."
"Buffy has always been…" Giles searched for the word, "Buffy has a certain compass within her. An inherent drive to do good."
"Okay. So not making me feel great about myself here…"
"Willow, the strength it requires… for a person to change. It's immense. And you did it."
"I'm a work-in-progress, still," said Willow.
"We all are," said Giles, "You still have progress to make. Too much to die today."
"Well, that's motivational I guess," said Willow. She was silent for a moment. "Gah," she moaned, reacting to one stabbing pain or another, "Why does it hurt so much?"
"What hurts?" said Giles, hovering over her but unsure how to help.
"Everything," said Willow, "God, my head, my chest. Anything that's not stabby is achy."
"Here," said Giles, pouring some aspirin into his hand and handing it to her, "Take something for the pain."
"No," said Willow, "I'm off the pain meds. Took them too much with the magick headaches, it let me stop paying attention to my limit. I've been on some painkiller or another pretty much all the time for years, even from before the headaches were from magick, since after my coma. Gotta start listening to my head. Y'know?"
"What's your head telling you now?"
"Uh," said Willow, "It's saying 'I'm filled with lava and railroad spikes. Good luck!'"
"I think it's saying you should rest," said Giles, "Go to sleep. I will keep researching."
"No," said Willow, "I'm afraid if I sleep… I mean, what if I don't wake up?"
There was a silence, and Giles bit his lip.
Willow huffed, "Why didn't you tell them?"
Giles' immediate response was to feign ignorance, "Tell them what?"
"You know what," said Willow, "That you have no magick. That I took your powers for good."
Giles opened his mouth and closed it a few times, like a fish, "I, uh," he said, "They have been so forgiving with you, Willow. I don't want to test their kindness."
"Wow," said Willow, "Isn't that a little messed up?" She frowned, "I didn't mean that. I don't know why you are working so hard all the time to protect me. Thank you."
"No, you're right," said Giles, "They deserve the truth. Just like you did about the binding. Keeping things from each other gets us nowhere. I will tell them once we are through this."
"Uh," said Willow, "If I die, maybe give it a week or two, okay? I still want at least a few nice words at my funeral. Even if I don't deserve them."
Giles sighed—the ' you deserve kindness' argument was getting stale, too.
"'Tape the new Frasier '?" chided Xander, "Great, my last words to my best friend are a TV ad. Catch Xander being a dufus this Tuesday 8 / 7 central only on UPN! "
"Willow's not gonna die," said Buffy, "Anya is meeting us near the movie theater—that's where the newest crater is. If Willow's right, this shouldn't take us long."
"Buff," said Xander, "They have Willow's powers. Willow is kind of stupid powerful. It definitely 'took long' when she was the one using it. Are we really gonna be able to take 'em with—" he peaked in her bag, "a crossbow and some stakes?"
"We're gonna have to," said Buffy, "I was kinda hoping you could get to them with some of that talking that you do."
"I don't have any adorable childhood stories about Amy," said Xander.
They walked briskly in stressful silence, until the movie theater was in sight.
"There you guys are," said Anya when they arrived, "You'd think with your friend dying you'd hurry it up a little."
"Sorry not all of us have the convenience of teleportation," said Xander, "You got the spell?"
"Yes," said Anya, holding up a book, "But I would like everyone to remember that last time I did this spell I was knocked unconscious by an evil witch, and now we are going to fight two evil witches."
They stood over the large crater and helped lower each other down. And immediately they could see that Willow was right: another altar had been erected, and Amy and her mother both whipped around, eyes black and veins visible.
"Buffy," said Amy, "You always gotta crash the party, don't you?"
"This doesn't look like a party," quipped Buffy, "Only person you could think to invite was your mom?"
"I'd invite Willow," said Amy, "But I hear she's a little out of commission."
"Amy," said Xander, "You gotta stop this. She's dying. You guys were friends."
"Willow and I used to hang all the time, in junior high. But then she met this blonde bimbo and a weirdo librarian and all of a sudden… she didn't have time for me. Well, until she kept me as her goddamned pet for three years."
"It's not Will's fault you were a rat," said Buffy, "She saved you."
"She had enough power to fix me years ago," said Amy, "She did once. She didn't even realize it—that's how powerful she is. Just for a second. Do you know what it's like living as a rat?"
"Yeah," said Buffy, "You turned me into a rat. Remember?"
"Do you know what I saw in that dorm room?" asked Amy, "That guy Riley? You shouldn't have let him go. He was packing."
Buffy's eyes widened and she blushed, "Oh my god."
"You don't even wanna know what Willow used to do with that blonde—"
"No, you're right," said Xander, "We really, really don't." He paused, "Actually, maybe I kinda—"
"Xander!" said Buffy.
Xander chuckled awkwardly, "—don't want to hear anything about that at all."
"Enough of this," said Catherine, magick coating her fingers. She shot a blast at Buffy that sent her crashing into the wall, "You've come for the redhead's powers, and you aren't getting them."
Buffy recovered slowly, and Anya hid behind a stalagmite and started reading the counterspell.
"Amy," said Buffy, "Your mom is a psycho but you don't wanna do this. You wouldn't kill a person."
"I wouldn't?" said Amy, "Willow did. Two, actually. Didn't take you long to forgive her. Of course, you all won't be able to forgive me. Y'know, being dead and everything, if you get in our way."
Willow and Dawn sat on the couch watching TV. They giggled at the jokes, and Dawn almost forgot that the woman beside her was dying. Giles was on the phone in the other room, talking with the coven.
"I think we watch too much TV," said Dawn.
"I never thought I'd hear you say that," noted Willow, "Hey, sometimes you need a little break from real life. And sometimes that break is Courtney Cox with a turkey on her head."
Dawn chuckled, cuddling closer to Willow and popping a piece of popcorn in her mouth.
Willow coughed, the resulting convulsions wracking her body against Dawn's head, "Sorry."
"Do you think you're gonna die?" Dawn whispered after a moment.
Willow shrugged, "Maybe. Wouldn't be all bad. Sometimes, with the magick in me… I'm not sure I can."
She glanced at Dawn, who seemed rather horrified.
"I'm probably not gonna die. I mean, I'm actually feeling a little better! Definitely not at death's door yet. Not even death's hallway. Death's foyer, maybe. Though I might have to stop by Death's bathroom… Help me up, I gotta barf."
"Don't get up," said Dawn. She went to the kitchen and brought her a bin, "We've got a barf bin right here for you."
"I think the bathroom was more about preserving my dignity but— Oh, gimme that bin."
She swiped the bin from Dawn and hacked painfully into it. There wasn't much in her stomach, so she wretched bile that burned her throat.
Then she collapsed back onto the couch, "Ew."
"That's okay," said Dawn, "You had to deal with a lot of Dawn-vomit when I had the 24-hour flu last summer."
"I remember," said Willow.
Dawn took the bin away, and though she tried to look away her curiosity got the better of her. She glanced in the bucket. Indeed it was full of bile and vomit—and also worrying amounts of blood. "Willow—" she said. She looked back at the witch, curled on the couch, eyes squeezed shut in pain, "Nevermind."
Then Dawn returned to the couch to sit next to Willow. She handed her something. "Post-puke breath mint."
"Wow," said Willow, popping it in her mouth, "Nurse Dawn thinks of everything."
"I love you, Willow," Dawn said.
"Love you too, Dawnie," said Willow, "Actually, I feel way better now that I barfed. You know how sometimes it's like that?"
Dawn smiled weakly and nodded. Willow certainly didn't look way better.
"Which one is this?" Willow asked, nodding at the TV as a new episode began.
"Oh, I dunno," said Dawn, "They're all kinda the same." She laughed at something on the TV, "Chandler's cute."
"You're insane," said Willow.
"What?" said Dawn, "Why? Who's your celebrity crush?"
"When I was your age?" said Willow, "Neil Patrick Harris."
Dawn burst into uncontrollable laughter, "Doogie Howser? Willow, that's crazy."
"What?" said Willow, "I like smart guys."
"You're gay."
"Okay, fair point," said Willow.
"Giles has been up there for a while. Wonder what he and those witches are talking about."
"I know exactly what they are saying." Willow did a deep British accent, a terrible impression of Giles, " Miss Harkness, it's Willow again! You must help her. " Now she transitioned to a higher, snootier voice, "Rupert, let us finish our tea and crumpets first. " Dawn giggled at that. And Giles again: "This is an emergency of the utmost importance! We must restore her abilities!" She transitioned her voice again: "Restore her abilities? Bloody hell, so she can kill her friends and destroy the world?" — "But she'll die!" — "That girl is a danger to the very fabric of our reality. You should have let us put her down when we had the chance."
Dawn had stopped laughing at some point. "Will," she said, "They didn't… they didn't talk to you like that, did they?"
"Not to me," said Willow, "But I heard them. I don't blame them, either."
"You shouldn't be punished for having power," said Dawn.
"Shouldn't I?" said Willow, "I wasn't born with power. I'm not the key like you or anything. I did it to myself, and I got greedy. And I was finally free of it and look where that got me."
"You weren't born with it," repeated Dawn, "Where did it come from?"
"What?"
"Your power," Dawn said, "Tara's mom was a witch, it ran in the family. But you…"
Willow shrugged, "No one really knows. Does it matter?"
Attention returned to the television and they both chuckled at some joke.
"Oh," said Willow softly, eyes glazed, "D'ya hear that?"
Dawn furrowed her brow. She turned her head to Willow, but before she could say anything the witch went limp, then started twitching violently, seizing.
Dawn tried to hold her down, "Giles!"
He came bounding down the stairs, "What's going on?"
"I don't know," said Dawn, "Seizure."
"Don't hold her down," said Giles, "Get away."
He came over to Willow, tried to turn her on her side, dodging thrashing limbs. But soon her seizing halted, and she collapsed in his arms.
Giles feared the worst when she stopped moving. He moved a shaking hand to her jugular to feel for a pulse. He sighed in relief when he found it.
Dawn stared at Willow with so much fear in her eyes. How many people did Dawn have to watch die, now? She couldn't look away.
"D-did I fall asleep?" Willow mumbled, and it did make Dawn and Giles feel a little better to hear her speak.
"Something like that," said Dawn.
Giles brought a cool rag to Willow's face, wiping sweat from her forehead and foam from her mouth.
"I feel like crap," Willow understated, "Giles, did the witches bind me again?"
"Willow, you're in Sunnydale. Remember?" Giles said
"Right," grunted Willow, but her face still looked confused. "Right, Amy. Why am I so tired?"
Giles remembered, then, that he'd vowed to stop keeping things from her, "You had a seizure."
"Of course I did," sighed Willow, "How can I expect even the electrical impulses in my brain to work properly?" She burst, then, into delirious laughter, "Oh, this sucks. This really is what dying feels like, isn't it?"
"I wouldn't know," said Giles.
"No, it is," said Willow, "I know. Buffy's not the only one with a death or two on the resume."
Giles and Dawn glanced at each other.
"Halloween, 1997," Willow blurted, "I died for 4 hours."
Giles looked at her bizarrely, and moved to check her temperature.
"It's true! I suffocated to death. Didn't you know?" She laughed—the whole thing seemed so silly to her. Then her laugh turned into a deep cough and she sobered up a little, "Oh god, I'm out of it, aren't I?"
"A little," said Dawn, "That's okay, I like it when you talk funny."
Willow flashed her a toothy smile, but then she frowned and pulled the blanket tighter around herself, shaking.
"The coven says there is not much we can do," said Giles, "They, uh, posited some sort of magical transfusion, but it's purely a theory and by the time we got to them, it would likely be too late. Teleporting with Willow in this state could kill her itself. Our best hope is to stay here so that we can get Amy and her mother to transfer the power back to her directly." He frowned, "Willow, let me give you something for your fever. It's getting worse."
Willow just moaned. She coughed again, each spasm sending lightning through her head, searing neon lights flashing behind her eyelids.
Giles brought his hand to the pillow by her face. He felt wetness there, and moved his hand, shaking, back up, into the light. He saw blood on his finger, and looking back at Willow he could see a tiny bit of red dribbling from the corner of her mouth. For the first time it truly occurred to him: Willow really might die tonight.
He thought he was going to cry, but tears welled in Dawn's eyes for him.
"Oh, don't cry Dawnie," said Willow, "It's all gonna be okay. Buffy's prolly giving Amy and Catherine a thorough pounding right about now."
Catherine stepped towards Buffy, who was still recovering from her crash. "Look at you, all grown up," she said. "Seems like only yesterday you were fifteen. I wanted to kill you, but Amy seems to think you'd like that. I want to do what you did to me. I want to trap you. Maybe I'll trap you in that little stake of yours so you can spend an eternity covered in vampire guts."
Catherine raised her hands, summoning some power—but nothing happened.
She scoffed, "A counter-spell? Fine, so you came prepared."
"Can't use magic directly against you?" said Amy, "No big." She reached for the sky, and the cave started rumbling, pieces of the ceiling falling over Buffy and her friends.
Anya ran from her hiding place for cover.
"Oh, you're the one casting that spell!" said Amy, "Didn't we go to high school together?"
"Hey," said Xander, recovering from the avalanche of debris that fell on him, "Don't touch her."
"For you ," said Amy, stalking toward Anya as the demon read, "Magick is just these little spells and these little words. But for Willow ? For us, now? Magick is like the whole world."
Buffy came running at Amy—but the witch teleported away and Buffy went barrelling straight into Anya, who fell to the ground, dropping the book.
Buffy reached for it, "Anya, keep reading!"
"Can't read without a mouth," said Catherine, and Buffy turned back to Anya to see, horrified, that her mouth had disappeared from her face.
"Time to have some fun," said Amy.
