No longer able to keep up pretenses, Buffy excused herself to go out on patrol. Not only did she feel out of place but she'd gotten her first look at Giles without bandages. The cut from the forehead, through the eye that puckered at the corner of his nose, disturbed her the most. How the eye had lost color and filmed over, looked too much like Kakistos. It hit her harder than seeing his stump, or the other wounds. Despite having killed Kakistos, he was still a frequent guest star in her nightmares. Buffy wondered if Faith had similar nightmares.
Sunnydale sat close enough to a desert that night dropped the temperatures lower than one would expect. She headed for a cemetery, wearing a jacket she'd had for years due to the perfect lining that didn't trap sweat to make her freeze. The main city would be just about deserted so she hoped to catch the demons on their way to bed. At least out here she didn't have to pretend to be grateful for surviving the jump off the tower. All those feelings of completion they had to be real. How could she be so wrong about that? Did she die and get revived again? Is that what happened?
Buffy had some memories from the time she'd drowned to death. They were different though, colorful. Did that make this experience any more or less likely to be real? Even full of energy like now, Buffy still felt things too much and too little at the same time. News about strangers made her cry buckets, but she felt little for those closest to her. Her nearest and dearest were dolls that got stuck in her aching play set, nothing more than painful reminders that none of this was real.
A twig snapped just within earshot and she turned off her existential thoughts to let her Slayer instincts take over.
The vampire would've been dust if a question hadn't penetrated her hunting persona. What damage could this fledgling do if she used defense but no offense?
So she let it get up and found herself disappointed as it tried to get away. A fling of her stake took care of that.
"They fight when you want them to run, and they run when you want them to fight. Slaying's a bitch ain't it?" Spike asked from behind her.
"And here I thought you'd outgrown your need to follow me around making moon eyes." She couldn't even muster bee venom for that comment let alone cobra.
"Keeping a promise is all. I saved Dawn, not when it counted but she'd have gone round the bend without me these last few months. And she just told me to back you up. So, I may be a lot of things but I keep my," he huffed in self-deprecation. "I guess I don't keep my promises. So if you want me to tell Dawn I cocked it all up again, I will."
"Where was Willow? Or Tara? Or anyone when Dawn needed them?" Buffy asked her throat constricting.
"Willow's been working two jobs and going to night classes. Tara had classes and took up some work at the Magic Box telling fortunes." He patted his pockets down before he remembered he didn't smoke anymore and let his hand drop. "Giles and Anya, well they had to keep the shop going. That's been a tick more difficult lately with all the attacks. The bot didn't scare away much of anything. Too easy to see she weren't you."
When he walked she followed. "And Xander."
"A not quite so functioning alcoholic. And given his disappearing act these last couple days, he'll be lucky if the construction blokes don't set him on literal fire when they sack him." His eyebrows punctuated the point.
"That explains him, but what about the others? What's going on around here? Why is everyone working so hard when Mom kept everything together by herself?" Buffy hated it when he shrugged like that. That lean that told her she should have gotten it already.
"Your mum had a gallery. Arts and antiquities, yeah? While Sunnydale may not be a metropolitan, she sold some mighty expensive pieces regularly. The gallery got sick and died with her, I'm afraid. Insurance only covered so much. Pint size helped nothing there, sad to say. You told her to live, and she took that advice to a darker place than I imagine you meant." He shrugged. "So in the end, after Dawn's fines, and your mum's hospital bills, plus the lawyers and whatnot so Hank didn't take Dawn away, there's nothing left. Although if you want to smile, imagine the coronary Anya had when the bank account hit zero." He smiled after she managed a brief smile.
"Dawn steals though?" Buffy asked concerned. Neither of them even paused when a demon jumped out and Buffy sliced its head off.
"Started off small, just-to-feel-alive antics but now she can't seem to help it. We try to keep an eye on her, one of the responsible ones with her all the time, make sure she doesn't get in big trouble or take anything important. Red and I seem to be able to get through to her the most there. The Nibblet used Tara for her soft motherly ways, but not even she could replace what the girl lost." Buffy eyes filled up as Spike explained all this and she could tell he'd kept the worst to himself.
"Where is Willow? She helped me a couple nights ago but then disappeared. I haven't seen her since she tried cheering me up by wearing ridiculous sunglasses. She on some kind of quest too?"
"Giles set her to cleaning and getting the new house ready. Lucked out that it wasn't touched in the latest attack." Spike nodded.
"So what's the plan? Burn my house down for the insurance?" Her laugh sounded bitter and unbelieving.
"Um, maybe we should just concentrate on getting you back to your fighting weight."
"I don't know. I'm pretty spry for a coma patient." She made her point with another swift beheading, this time an over-muscled vampire.
"And here I thought you wanted a fight. A challenge."
Buffy didn't appreciate his mocking her like that. "You can't even hit me without getting a ground-kissing migraine."
"Got me there, you should fight them then." Spike pointed to a herd of demons coming their way.
Buffy rolled her eyes when she saw how many there were. A fight was one thing, and a battle would still be better than this. It looked more like a war coming toward her. "Great."
Giles used a pair of crutches to get around the kitchen. The food in the refrigerator had gone bad, but he managed some tea without trouble. He'd just taken a seat on the single remaining stool when Xander walked in, a dram left in the bottle hanging from his fingers. "Where'd S-Spike go?"
"Dawn sent him to look after Buffy."
"So," Xander belched, "where's Dawn?"
Giles sighed, putting his cup down, and taking his glasses off. "We should call around before we panic."
"On it." Xander picked up the receiver. "It's dead."
"Of course it is." Giles stood with his crutches. "We should leave a note for Buffy and Spike before we head out to search for her. We'll have to go on foot."
"Why? I've got a car."
"Because you're drunk and I can't drive while missing a leg yet." Giles' frustration levels rose into the red zone. "And don't even think about splitting up. You'd end up in a bar and I'd end up dead for it."
"That's ridic-but not dick...um, what was I saying?" Xander downed the last bits from the liquor bottle and walked off muttering. "Oh yeah, Dawn. I'll get her. Nothing to worry about. I got this."
Giles tried to call after him and catch up. He tripped in his rush, and his stump hit the ground and busted open some of the stitching. His scream, though loud, didn't bring Xander back.
A last second trip to Africa meant being at the airport at three in the morning. They would have a lot of layovers, but it got them to where they needed to be faster than waiting two weeks for a more direct flight.
Tara's mouth was a dried up swamp. "I've never been on a plane."
"Well then you get to run the gamut. This trip will put you on four types of planes before we have to hop a ride from some hopefully non-murderous non-thieving guide that'll get us a day closer to our destination. And we'll still have to cross some rough terrain on foot." Anya paused long enough to check their tickets. "The locals will give us a hard time. Then we only have to worry that Clay will put us through trials meant to kill us rather than give us any useful information. And if we live, the information only has a fifty/fifty chance of helping us." Anya looked at Tara and saw her paler lift. "Still nervous?"
"Um, grateful that we might die sooner rather than later."
Anya flashed a huge smile. "Glad I could help."
"Can I just go back to Willow?" Tara asked as their flight got called to board.
"The same Willow that you can't even touch?"
Tara nodded, determination coursing through her. "Right. We have two souls to save."
"We're doing the right thing, Tara. Nothing that takes you all the way to Clay is a quest for no reason. There's information we need. He might have it. Go us for bravery!" Anya lifted her hand and Tara raised her eyebrow. "You're supposed to slap my hand for encouragement and a show of solidarity."
"Oh, a high five." Tara slapped her palm against Anya's. "Go us."
"I wonder who I can bribe for a decent inflight movie." Anya looked around the airport with bright eyes, hoping to find her query. Tara shot her stealthy glances as they boarded, amazed at Anya's strange apathetic empathy.