Willow kept smiling as she walked across the campus, still in a good mood from her date. Last night had been wonderful, she'd spent time with Spike, they'd cuddled during the movie, talked over coffee... everything had been great. The whole thing left her hopeful that they could rebuild a relationship, better than before. But today she needed to go to the campus library to look up some things for a report for one of her classes. Granted, the report wasn't due for another three weeks, but procrastinating never helped, and this way, if something big came up, she'd already have a good start, if not a finished paper.
Something caught her attention – a glimpse of bright pink in the corner of her vision. Patricia, the librarian at the front desk, had dark pink skin and white eyes.
Willow blinked, and looked directly at the woman. Facing her, Patricia had the same grey hair, bifocal glasses, and lightly wrinkled pale skin as ever. Normal bland cardigan sweater over bland blouse and slacks. She looked completely human, slightly old, and unremarkable.
As Willow made her way to the reference sections, Patricia was pink at the edge of her vision.
A trio of guys clustered around one of the computer terminals, whispering and pointing to something. They all looked fairly normal, not quite responsible, sort of like Xander had back in ninth grade, and completely human. The girl at the next terminal was tall and too thin, with a long pale braid. She looked human out of the corner of Willow's eye as well. The next guy over, one of the basketball team... out of the corner of Willow's eye he looked even taller than normal, closer to eight feet, and a pale grey, with a leathery cast to his skin and a slight muzzle, the sort that was generally filled with sharp teeth. Though he was still clad in a Nike shirt and jean shorts. The next computer had one of the overly serious upper-classmen that Willow had seen lurking in the social sciences hallway, reminding her just a bit of her mother.
A group of students sat at a table in the corner, with a collection of brightly colored books that certainly hadn't come from the university library. They had papers and notebooks, and large collections of brightly colored dice. Most of them looked like they could use a little more sunshine. One had green streaks in his hair, along with a number of piercings and a tattoo edging out from under his shirt. Another had blue skin. None of the group seemed to find anything out of the ordinary.
"Don't stare at the gamers," Willow whispered to herself. When she dared a direct look, the green streaks were still there, but the blue one simply looked like he had a bit of a suntan.
Her hand was shaking as she pulled the reference book from the shelf. Despite the much reduced stress about Spike, she was still seeing some of the people on campus as not humans. She thought that the basketball player looked rather like some demons that she'd seen at Willie's, watching some of the basketball games with baskets of some sort of maybe-shrimp.
If it wasn't just the stress of Spike and the question of should she give him another chance, then... Then she had to really be seeing them differently. Which left two possible explanations. Possibility one - they weren't human, and she was somehow seeing through whatever kept most people from knowing that they were demons. Possibility two - something had happened or been done to her to make her hallucinate that some people weren't human. If it was a hallucination, was it something that she'd been exposed to, or a spell cast on her? If she was seeing through glamours and disguises, how and why now?
Willow pulled out a little notebook, and jotted down who she'd seen looking different. Everyone that she could think of, even the ones that she only vaguely recognized as 'normally crossing the courtyard when she was on the way to Philosophy on Mondays'. The best way to start unraveling what was going on and maybe why was to make certain if she was really seeing people's true faces, or if she was hallucinating. The best way to start figuring that out would be to keep track of who looked different and how they looked. If it wasn't consistent, then it must be hallucinations. If the differences were consistent... if they were consistent then she needed to be asking different questions than if it wasn't. Except for 'why?'; that would remain a big question regardless of what was happening.
Tucking the notebook back into her bag, Willow had an idea. As a vampire, Spike had senses that were better than a human, and abilities that a normal guy lacked. Perhaps, if any of the people were really not human, Spike would be able to tell? Notice some difference in their scent, hear a different sound to sharp teeth and nails, maybe see through glamours intended to fool human eyes. That might help her figure out if this was real or not. Once she knew that, then maybe, just maybe, she could start working out what to do about these strange peripheral vision differences.
Jotting down notes for her paper, Willow remembered her emails to Xander and Wesley concerning her odd dream with the First Slayer. A dream that had raised questions about the health of Faith and Buffy, neither of whom inspired good feelings in her. More frustrating, she didn't know if she was hoping to hear that everything was fine – that they were still dealing with known Slayers - or that one of them had died, even both of them.
She still didn't know which answer she would prefer when she let herself into her little apartment. Faith… Faith had belittled her; tried to kill her, Xander, and Angel; had helped the Mayor. But Faith had never pretended that she was Willow's friend, had never betrayed her in the personal sense – only in the we were both supposed to be good guys fighting the bad guys and then Faith joined the bad guys sense of betrayal. Something that had probably hit Giles and Wesley much harder, since they were supposed to be guides to a Slayer. Buffy… there had been years of friendship before Buffy had… before Buffy's betrayal. A betrayal that now made Willow question the reality of the friendship that had preceded it.
It didn't take long before she had her computer running, enabling her to check her email and start filling in the notes, outline and references section for her paper. There was the usual assortment of junk emails – penis enlargement offers, two offers of porn, a work from home and make thousands of dollars offer, a bank-phishing email, and oooh, a Nigerian money transfer scam email. "Haven't got one of those in a while. I'm not equipped with a penis to enlarge, I can find my own porn, I can write programs at home and get more money than those home mailing type things, and I don't even have an account with Bank of America."
Wesley had emailed back, concerned about her dream. He mentioned that he'd checked on Faith and been reminded that she was only permitted visitors at certain times. But he was certain that they would have mentioned if she had died, and they should have looked worried or shown some reaction if she was otherwise in poor health, so he assumed that she was physically well enough. Considering the alarming nature of her questions and dream, he wrote that he'd have to talk with Faith and see if she was having any unusual dreams lately.
There were a few emails from some on-line friends, covering how things were going at school, with their personal lives, with PynSol's wreck of a car, and PBJelly's fanfics. Normal things, everyday things. Things that had nothing to do with demons, or dead Slayers stalking her dreams, or Hellmouths.
That was when she realized her answering machine was blinking. Swallowing against sudden nerves, Willow pressed the button to make the message or messages play. First was someone in a noisy place looking for Gwen or Jen – either a wrong number, or someone who'd had this one before Willow. Second was a hang-up. Third was an automated political message urging support for the re-election of Senator Myers in the upcoming election. Fourth was another hang-up. Fifth was Xander's voice, sounding strained and upset – 'Willow, it's important. Call me back on the cell. Not the apartment, not the Magic Box. Call me.'
"That can't be anything good. He didn't even say what it was about," Willow whispered.
For a moment, she wanted to erase the message, to bury herself in homework and school stress and fretting over Spike and the fragile relationship that they were trying to rebuild. But that wouldn't help anything. Her hand shook as she dialed Xander's cell phone.
"Xander?" Willow had no idea how to begin this conversation.
"Willow, you got my message." Xander's voice had the same tired tension that had so often followed patrols.
Disliking the association that her mind had made, Willow asked, "What happened?"
"New uglies in town, as usual. Except that these went after Anya. She's in the hospital, Willow. Just the other day, we were talking about maybe getting married, and she's in the hospital. Buffy didn't care; she just said that Anya wasn't strong enough to be fighting demons. Giles mumbled something about demonic strength and human frailty…" Xander's words trailed off, and then he sighed. "I think Buffy's either got him wrapped around her finger or he's gone weird the same way she did."
Unable to keep from wincing, Willow murmured, "That's just awful. And he's the closest that you have to a father-figure. Blinkered or loopy aren't good options. What happened next? I'd like to think that even as… even the way she was, Buffy would know there's a problem with demons just beating up her support."
"Buffy left for patrol around sunset, and I haven't seen her since. She should have checked in last night, or this morning at the latest, but nada." Xander's words were harsh, and slurred by exhaustion and maybe pain.
She almost hated herself for the hesitant whisper, "She could have just gone home. Or to crash with Giles."
"I called over to the Magic Box earlier. He was… he snapped at me, telling me that there was no need to pester him, and he would inform me of anything I needed to know. Much as I want to say he was just worried and having a bad morning, I don't believe it. Something is not right, and I don't know what," the sound of something hitting a table carried clearly. Perhaps it was a fist, or some sort of big book – the sound was wrong for china or metal.
She didn't like the sound of any of that. "Xander? You might not like to hear this, but…. When Anya gets out of the hospital, I think you should both leave. Get out of Sunnydale while you can. Before something kills you, before she kills you."
"Just leave? Willow, I know she's had some problems since you brought her back, but she wouldn't… she couldn't… She's one of the good guys, right?" Xander's voice faltered as he attempted to deny that Buffy could be a danger.
"Just like she wouldn't have sex with her friend's boyfriend? Just like she would never deliberately hit one of us? She did both to me, Xander. Do you want to risk it that she wouldn't do that to you and Anya? Okay, maybe she won't try to seduce your girlfriend. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe she's the Buffy we knew and loved in high school again. That Buffy I trusted, that Buffy I'd trust with you. But not the Buffy that used Spike, the one who hit me when I asked her why. The Buffy that said it didn't matter because he wasn't human, that he was just a thing." Willow stopped, trying to swallow the lump that had appeared in her throat, a lump that she thought might be made of tears and regret and fear. "She isn't the Buffy that we met in sophomore year anymore. That Buffy died. I don't trust the one who came back."
Xander was quiet for a few moments. "I'll talk to Anya about it when she can stay awake longer than five minutes."
As she finished the call to her friend, Willow sighed. Buffy hadn't checked back in after patrol. Did that mean she was dead, being held prisoner, injured somewhere? Had she just decided not to bother, and gone somewhere else to rest after a patrol? And Giles – wasn't that taking support for his Slayer too far?
Looking at the now-silent phone, Willow sighed. "Get out while you can, Xander. It may be the only way you and Anya can have a rest of your lives that isn't measured in months, weeks, or days."
It didn't help that in trying to explain her worries to Xander, she'd resurrected all her fears about getting back together with Spike. Reminded herself of the pain of his betrayal, of what Buffy had done. Of all the reasons why she'd left Sunnydale. "I hope this isn't a big mistake."
This also meant that she wouldn't be able to ask Giles to help sort out whatever was going on to make her see or hallucinate demons on campus. Maybe she could ask Wesley, once she knew if it was real or hallucinations. He was good with the books parts, and finding answers. He hadn't been so good at putting those answers into practice, not in Sunnydale at least, though he'd gotten better once he wound up in LA with Angel. It might also be a good idea to check if the college had a Wiccan group, or perhaps a group for pagans. It might not hurt to see if there were any New Age or psychic groups in the area either. Maybe they'd be able to help, or at worst she'd wind up with a heads up on upcoming dangers.
End Second Best 18: Warnings