"You don't seem too worried about Willow," Anya said as she set another book on the floor in front of her.
Tara paused and looked as though she were listening to something only she could hear. "She's alive and her pulse is strong."
"Neat trick."
"Not so much a trick as just we've done so much magic together that we're connected mystically." Tara closed the book in her lap and sighed. "I keep finding all these allusions to some kind of quest related to the spell, but nothing specific."
"Same here. And I want to say I've heard of the quest before, but it's been a few hundred years." Anya sighed and shrugged. "I suppose I can try asking a couple demons I still know about it."
"Could you? If there's something wrong, we need to know and we need to be able to fix it." Tara looked so worried that Anya nodded.
"...got to have something about this new cock up of my unlife here, right?" Spike's voice drifted up to the loft. "Still not speaking to me?"
"Who's there?" Anya called as she climbed down from the loft. "Oh, hi, Willow. What happened to your face? And your ey… oh, I see." She turned her face up toward the loft. "Hey Tara! Someone beat up your girlfriend!"
"Red here got kidnapped by some Hellions since the rest of you left her here alone," Spike said. Cradling his useless wrist, he merely raised his eyebrows at Willow's glare. "What? Even your girl left you."
Willow's eyes filled with tears and she looked away. Much to her surprise, Anya spoke up. "We all left her. If we hadn't, we would've died. All of us. Most of the demons that burst in, followed the rest of us as we fled. If they hadn't, Willow wouldn't be alive."
While Anya went downstairs, a word in the book she had abandoned caught Tara's eye. Did it say succubus on that list? Turning the book around, she saw that Anya had gotten to the right place, the part about resurrection, so she had to have read wrong. Except she hadn't. Listed, without ambiguities, were the requirements for the resurrection spell, Urn of Osiris, Wine of the Mother with a reference number, an incantation authored by the casting witch that, if accepted, would start the trials and if those were passed, then the soul would cross over. The addendum was that if the castor needed the body restored, then they would have to sacrifice their humanity. To keep the body intact, the witch would become a succubus or incubus. They would need to feed every night to keep the resurrected animated.
"Willow, what did you do?" Tara's breath became ragged as she looked up Wine of the Mother. She found an animal sacrifice ritual. Flipping farther back into the book she found all the details on succubi. Tara continued to talk to herself as she translated the details. "A succubus or incubus is a demon created from a successful resurrection of the long dead. Lest they forfeit the spell and their souls, they must feed..." Before she could read anymore the book dissolved into a puddle of pulp.
"You don't want to know, love."
Tara looked up to see Willow standing there, eyes black and filled with lightning. Willow had an accent she didn't understand but that was the least of their problems. "Willow what did you do?"
"What I had to." Willow didn't seem remorseful, but rather distant and cold.
"This isn't you. W-what did you do? An-an-animal sacrifice? Turning into a demon? Why?" Tara couldn't hold back the tears as they spilled down her cheeks and into the corners of her mouth.
"Buffy's been my best friend since she got here. I couldn't just let her rot, body and soul." Anger seeped through Willow's words.
"I know we couldn't find out if she was in heaven or hell, but you've sounded so sure that she was in hell for a while now. Why?"
"Because intent behind a spell is the most important part. We both know it. Glory wanted to go back to her hell dimension so much that she overpowered her prison." Willow stopped for a moment to collect herself. "There was no where else Buffy would end up with that kind of intent."
Tara shook her head as the tears went from desperate to angry. "Well, you were wrong. She was in heaven. You did all this for nothing. You threw us away for nothing." When Willow didn't reply, Tara turned her back to hide her pain.
Willow's boots scuffed on the metal stairs as she returned to the main floor. Then Tara heard her ask Spike to take her on patrol. When it was clear they'd left, Tara let herself break down and at some point Anya started holding her. When Tara managed to pull herself together, she looked at Anya, knowing her well enough to see that something more was wrong. "What is it?"
"We can't tell the others. About Willow. If we tell the others, they'll do something rash. We might not be able to reason with them. Everyone's so high strung right now, and when emotions run this high, people get stupid. We can't afford to be stupid. There're two souls at stake. Willow's and Buffy's."
Seeing Anya's point, Tara nodded her agreement. "There's still that quest, the one about the spell we used to get Buffy back. It might give us answers, or a way out of this."
"That's a big maybe, but who can go on a quest right now? They take forever, tend to be extremely dangerous, and don't always give you the answers you want."
Tara picked up the book she'd given up on before. "I'll find out what I need and go myself. I have nothing to lose."
"You don't have to look up anything." Anya made an annoyed phlegmy noise in her throat. "I found the starting point over an hour ago. I didn't say anything because I loathe Beljoxa's Eye, and I'm the only one in the group that knows how to get there. Only demons have that information, and few pass it on anymore."
After a long silence, Tara asked, "Well?"
"It's just, I have nothing to lose either. Xander and I don't even talk anymore, we just yell. And I know for a fact orgasms are better than alcohol but he doesn't seem to see it. Perhaps if he misses me enough, he'll clean up his act." Anya sighed, feeling dejected. "We'll go to Beljoxa's Eye. But we should pack first cause that's only the starting point." She stood up and grumbled to herself all the way down the stairs and into the training room.
With a deep breath, Tara followed.
While Giles snored and Dawn slept with her head resting on the edge of his pillow, Buffy stared out the window. Her view looked out over the parking lot, not that she saw anything.
"Where's everyone else?" the nurse asked as she checked on things. "There used to be an army of you."
"I don't know." Buffy didn't think about her response, but rather just let the words happen.
"You should get back to your own room, Miss."
Buffy nodded and as she turned, she slipped and the back of her hand caught on a bolt in the bed frame. Blood welled and dripped to the floor, making Buffy feel real again. She hadn't even noticed how unreal she'd been feeling. But this, this helped. Proof of life, as it were.
She let the nurse fuss over her long enough to get a bandage, but then she decided to go for a walk. Buffy couldn't be this still, for this long, and not go crazy. That had to be the real reason she'd been so out of it. A brisk walk was in order.
Throwing on the outfit Dawn brought her, Buffy looked in the mirror and decided that a ponytail would help conceal her greasy hair. Tying her hair back took more concentration than it should have, but that just meant the walk was long overdue.
A block away from the hospital, Buffy felt herself drifting off again, so she rubbed the bandage into the fresh wound. Little bolts of pain shot up her arm and refreshed her. This happened again and again until she couldn't go any farther and sat on a bench, not even aware of the cemetery around her.
"Red?"
"What, Yellow?" Willow asked beyond frustrated. Her skin itched with need. If she didn't get some energy into her soon, Buffy would die again. And even if she had been in heaven that didn't mean she'd go there again, so Willow had to feed, whether she liked it or not.
Spike grabbed Willow's arm with his good hand, the other held in place by nothing but skin and muscle. "I know what you are. I know what you're looking for."
"And?"
"I'm standing right here and I'm a right treat if I do say so myself."
She shot him a look that told him how stupid he sounded.
"It's Buffy, yeah? You know I'd do anything for her. Let me." It didn't sound like the pathetic Spike that stalked Buffy all last year. This sounded sincere.
"I took too much from you for you to volunteer again now. That punch was Xander weak. Or do you want more pulverized bones? We need to find a different source for tonight, and I'm going to need to learn control." She squinted as she tried to see through the fog they'd wandered into.
"Hey! No need to be a bitch about it."
Willow stopped, crossed her arms over her chest, and scowled at him. "Call me a bitch again, and I'll suck you till you're sweepable. Cause you know, you'll be dust."
Through clenched teeth he replied, "Got it. Let's get you fed then."
"Aren't these places usually teaming with oogly booglies?" She asked as she turned and dodged a headstone with demonic grace. "Huh."
"That's the rumor anyway." He grabbed his dangling hand with the other. "Can't you do something about this damn thing?"
"If I get enough to eat then maybe, but I don't know how much witch juice I have left." Willow got distracted. "Did you hear that?"
Spike cocked his head. "Sounds like some Glarghk Guhl Kashmas'niks. Which is good for us. I speak Glarghk Guhl Kashmas'nik."
"Of course you do." Willow rolled her eyes. "I can barely pronounce Glarghk Guhl Kashmas'nik and you speak the language."
"I'll distract while you feed. Just follow me, silently, and stay behind them. Pick off the stragglers until there aren't any."
She nodded once, and they set off to take down their prey.