"Giles!" Dawn rushed into the kitchen from the back porch to his side, grabbing a towel on the way to press against his stump. "What happened?"
"We, ah, thought you'd gone missing again. Xander left to look for you, ugh, I tried to catch up to him." Giles panted as the pressure Dawn put on his stump flooded his body with excruciating pain.
"You only popped four stitches. Want me to sew you back up?" Dawn asked as she peeked at the wound.
"Do we have an unused suture kit?" Giles asked.
"I think we have two left. Hold this in place while I get one." Once Giles held the towel in place on his own, Dawn rushed to the hall closet, pulled down the giant med pack, and got what turned out to be the last suture kit. "I should have stolen a few more when I had the chance."
With the wound only damp with blood now, Dawn got him stitched in a matter of minutes. She waited for him to regain his composure before talking again. "Got any ideas on how to get you to the couch?"
Giles pushed himself to a seated position. "Just hand me my crutches. I think I remember how to use them to stand from when I sprained my ankle when I was eleven."
Dawn did as she was told and helped keep Giles from falling again as he pulled himself up. "Xander's probably found a bar willing to serve him, so why don't we get some z's."
"Sleep sounds like a wonderful idea. Could you get me some water and my pills?" Giles set off toward the boarded up living room.
"Already got them." She shook the pill bottle and the water bottle as she followed him.
Sitting on something as low as the couch proved more difficult than getting off the floor had been. It was more of an ungainly fall truth be told. He caught his breath and then studied Dawn as he took his pain medication. Despite the torn black clothes and thick makeup, he still saw the child underneath. "Thank you, Dawn."
"You're welcome." She disappeared down the hall again and returned with a cot, pillow, and sleeping bag. "They destroyed everything in my room, so I'm just going to sleep in here with you. Which is good because if you need anything, I'll be right here to help and stuff."
The sun threatened as Willow fell onto the couch sore from a night full of interior decorating. Cleaning had been the easy part, but getting rid of the peeling wallpaper in the living room took her hours of nonstop elbow grease. She didn't want to risk using magic and drain her reserve. Willow felt herself nourishing Buffy every second.
"Only five rooms to go." Willow sighed as her demonic tissue worked out the kinks faster than she expected. "I'm not sure I like the no need for sleep thing. Talk about a mental suck."
Feeling the need to move, Willow rolled to her feet. "Which room to work on next? Duh, can't live without a kitchen."
"Here again?" Spike couldn't believe he'd gotten stuck in that dilapidated church again. The horde of demons were trying to bust down the door. Buffy gathered barricade materials and when she finished they were safe as houses.
"How's the stomach wound?" Buffy asked now finished with the blockade.
"Might need a drink before I can fight again, but I'll survive." Spike sighed as he sprawled out on the floor. "The reinforced steel side door should hold for at least a few hours if the demons even bother to look there. This bunch didn't seem to be gifted with an overabundance of brains, so I doubt we even need to worry." He coughed then groaned. "Bleeding stomach wounds."
"My tradition of bad puns is alive and kicking I see."
"Huh?"
"Nevermind. Just lay there and bleed. I'll see if there's any way I can get reinforcements. These demons don't seem to have your sun allergy. And even if you were in any condition to fight, the two of us aren't enough."
Spike watched her leave the vestibule, his dead heart in his throat. No matter how cool he'd tried to play it, he still loved her more than anyone or anything he ever had before. Not even if his mother and Drusilla were morphed into one person could he love them as much as he loved Buffy. Mm that thought came out sounding not how he meant it. Despite her comments, Spike never wanted to sleep with his mother. He still heard Buffy's footfalls when he remembered something helpful. "There's a lavatory if you need it."
Buffy heard him and sent a silent thank you to whatever higher power or powers were looking over her. She found the bathroom and saw the reason he mentioned it. A large window, hidden from the outside by foliage might be a way to get out and gather the troops, few though they may be. After using the facilities, she opened the window and slipped out. A foreign sense of guilt for leaving Spike behind pricked at her as she made her way clear of the non humanoid demons.
As she walked through town, Buffy couldn't help but notice the number of buildings that looked like they'd been abandoned for months, and not just since the Hellion attack. Grimy boarded up windows were at every turn. Cars on cinder blocks stripped down to their frames. For sale or condemned signs were plastered on more doors than not. Willow's parents' house had been burnt to the ground leaving scorched earth and gravel.
"Oh my god." That house with all the pets she'd always tried to avoid walking past because they woke up the neighborhood if she got too close now smelled of carrion. A decaying dog carcass in the yard.
"It is terrible." What started as a disembodied voice coalesced into a nondescript woman in front of Buffy. "This town needs rebuilt. I want you to help me do it, Slayer."
"Why should I?" Buffy asked as her fist wafted right through the non-corporeal woman.
"Because if there's no town here, the Hellmouth is even more susceptible to being opened. I doubt you want that to happen."
"You aren't the First are you?" Buffy felt stupid for needing to ask, but didn't know what else to do.
"My name is Edith, and I have the distinct advantage of being able to touch. Something the First cannot do." She reached out and touched Buffy's shoulder, firm but unthreatening. "I also have the fortune of some precognitive abilities. I see what is, and what may be. I see that you are unhappy with your situation. Not just because of the town's decay, but because you have been ripped away from bliss. I believe that having a purpose makes a life worth any sacrifice or suffering we endure. I'd like to give you such purpose. A more sure purpose than you've ever had before."
"No offense but I need more than just your word that you aren't some evil-a-thingy. And I've got to get help."
"If you mean the demons threatening your vampire friend. I can get rid of them. I will be right back." The woman dematerialized. And with a shrug Buffy double timed it home.
Buffy got through the door and found Giles and Dawn sleeping in the living room, but more than that, Spike was laying on the floor in the dining room with Edith standing over him.
"You should get him some blood. It will help him heal. The demons died when they got into the church. That much focused consecration turned them into mud puddles." Edith disappeared before Buffy could question her.
"I had questions you know!" Buffy whisper yelled toward the ceiling. With a humph, she looked for blood for Spike. The kitchen fridge needed a funeral, but she found some in the downstairs one. The microwave was also dead, so she opened the container and set it next to his face. His forehead got bumpy, and he attacked the cold blood out of control until he'd ingested, or whatever happened to the blood once he put it in his mouth, all of it.
Spike shook off his demon, turned on his side, and fell asleep.
"I guess no one's going to answer my questions." Buffy sat down in the corner after covering the window with a table cloth. She leaned her head back, and before she knew it, fell asleep.
Xander woke up in the drunk tank with a dozen other men and promptly fell back asleep. There was nothing here to stay awake for.
"I know airlines are cursed and all, but no one deserves Multiplicity two flights in a row," Anya said as the movie started.
Tara giggled. "The JFK airport was interesting at least."
"Nothing is interesting enough to make up for this crappy movie." Anya propped her pillow against the window. "Sleep sounds like a much better use of our time. And at least you can lean back since there's no one seated behind you."
"Oh, I didn't realize." Tara leaned her seat back and fake yawned.
"If we have to watch a Michael Keaton movie, why can't it at least be Mr. Moooooom?" The last word stretched out as Anya yawned. Moments later she snored, and Tara put on her headphones and straightened her seat. She liked Multiplicity, and with Anya sleeping, Tara could watch it this time.