The letters on the page were blurring together, forming words that had not originally been printed in those pages. It was Ruby—finding a way to manipulate him from through the connection they had formed through her blood. Until he finally got the courage to plunge that knife into her chest, to watch the crackle of energy arc through her eyes as the spark left them, she would live inside his head. He raked his hand through his hair, and re-read the same passage for the third time.
… until the end of the 5th Century A.D. little was known concerning the cage STOP FIGHTING THIS that held Lucifer…
Blinking and rubbing his eyes, the words once again resembled their proper text.
"This doesn't make any damn sense!" Bobby dropped the book on the table, and returned to pacing around the dining room.
The commotion roused Spike who had fallen asleep, head on his hands, face down in an open book. No one had bothered to wake him considering it meant that he was not whining about how unappreciated he was.
"I know, right?" Willow agreed, "Look at this."
Fingers holding the words down on the page to save Bobby the trouble of searching them out, she slid the book towards where he stood next to the table. But, while Bobby processed the passage Willow had marked, Willow's eyes drifted towards Sam. That look in his eyes—oh shit, she knew that look. That look was trouble on fire. She studied the signs to confirm her assumption. Sweat glistened on his forehead just enough to make his skin shine, and there was a slight shake in his hand as he turned the page.
… the seals were YOU DON"T FOOL ME, SAMMY established over the centuries one by YOU'RE DYING OF THIRST one, but…
Clenching his fist, and working his fingers in frustration, Sam was clearly losing this battle.
"You don't look so good, Mate," Spike commented also observing Sam's deterioration.
"I'm just tired."
But, Willow was not buying that line.
"If the order in which the seals are broken doesn't matter, why wouldn't Lilith go for the Slayer in the prelims instead of waiting until the playoffs?" Bobby asked having finished the page, "Why not get the amulet from the get go- slip your human suit right off the bat? Seems like it would make it a hell of a lot easier."
"Exactly," Willow bounced back into the conversation, "Why would she wait until she had less than ten seals to break?"
While she spoke to Bobby, her eyes were still pinned to Sam, watching him twitch. This was a pretty heavy revelation they had stumbled upon, and it had to be important—yet, Sam seemed pretty oblivious to anything they were saying.
… many of the seals came to be as the results of COME FIND ME inhuman acts committed by…
"All this reading is draining my brain. I need fuel—who's hungry?" Willow announced, "Sam!"
The mention of his name was like a firecracker, and he snapped to attention.
"Will you please help me in the kitchen?" Willow requested.
"What? Yeah, sure…" he answered despite being unaware of what she had actually asked, responding merely out of habit.
"Great, come with me," she announced, fingers wrapping around his forearm in a death grip, dragging him along into the adjacent room.
Just the movement from the chair to the kitchen left him requiring the aid of the island just to stand. Head pounding, tongue parched and sticking the roof of his mouth, he worried about how much longer he was going to remain vertical, let alone keep up the appearance that nothing was wrong.
"What's your poison?" Willow asked reproachfully.
"Sorry?" Sam feigned confusion, or maybe, he really was- honestly, he didn't know anymore, "I don't follow."
"I recognize withdrawal when I see it, Sam."
"Like I said, I'm just tired," He lied.
"Oh, drop the act, De Niro," Willow scoffed, "Trust me, I have a lot of experience in this department."
Nervously, Sam scratched at the back of his neck, reluctant to say anything incriminating, but he knew it was a matter of time. Really, how long was he going to be able to keep this up?
"No offense, Willow, but while I appreciate the sentiment, I really doubt you've dealt with this level of detox."
"Look, I know that our lives aren't mainstream. It wasn't like I was shooting up or popping pills. I was addicted to magic."
"Yeah, but did you're addiction hurt anyone but you? Did it turn you into a monster?"
Willow narrowed her eyes, agitated at his tone, "Actually, I lost the love of my life because I couldn't get a grip. I chose magic over her, and she left. And then, just when I thought she'd come back to me… I lost her forever because some wannabe supervillain put a bullet in her heart," Willow's voice turned solemn and shameful with burden, "After that, I went on a bender so dark that I hunted down her killer, and flayed him… alive. But I couldn't stop. Little ol' me, formerly invisible nerd Willow- I almost burned the world. So, don't stand here and pretend like you have the monopoly on suffering."
"You're right. I'm sorry," Sam replied, remorseful of his comment, and he simply answered, "…demon blood."
"Damn son!" Willow exclaimed, "Which means that you're—"
"—part demon," Sam finished her sentence.
"What about Dean?"
"No… just me. I'm the lucky winner of that lottery. Guess I'm just special," Sam sneered at the words used so many times by Ruby and Azazel, "When I drink, it strengthens my abilities."
"And, that's how you plan to kill Lilith?"
"I did at first. Hell, it made a lot of sense—like Buffy said, take this curse and use it for something good, but…" another tremor struck him, this time pulsing through his entire body, and Willow took his hand to steady him, "…but, I can't control it anymore. I'm terrified that I'll end up crossing a line I can't come back from. I don't even feel human anymore."
"How long since your last fix?"
"Thirteen days."
"Well then, this should help."
Turning his hand over, she whispered an incantation and drew symbols on his upturned palm. A light blue light generated from the markings she drew, and a wave of relief washed over Sam. The shaking ceased, and the fog clouding his mind lifted. In an instant she had dulled the serrated edge left from starving his addiction.
"Thanks," He sighed, having finally found a respite, "You've got to teach me that trick."
"It's easy," Willow waved her hand as if it was nothing, smiling she said, "Circle, circle, dot, dot…"
Sam laughed for what had to be the first time in a week. But, it did not last long. A buzzing in his pocket alerted him that he had a text from Dean.
"It's Dean, something's wrong," Sam read the message aloud, "Get the door—hands full."
"Of what?" Willow's eyes went wide, and they hastily exited the kitchen.
Footsteps pounded on the exterior stairs as Sam swung open the door. Still unconscious, Dean carried Buffy through the door.
"Bedroom?" Dean asked impatiently.
"This way," Willow beckoned to follow her.
In the last room at the end of the hall, Dean laid Buffy gently onto her bed as the others filed in one by one to get answers to their questions, one perhaps more determined than the others. As Dean's hands slid out from under Buffy, stepping away from the bed, he felt hands jerk his jacket. The photo frames rattled on the wall, a few falling as Spike slammed Dean against the lavender painted wall of Buffy's bedroom, forearm pressing against his neck.
"She's in good hands," Spike barked Dean's words back to him, face already the contorted into the vicious snarl of his vampire form, "What the bloody hell happened?"
"You're gonna want to back it up, White Wedding," Dean answered calmly, voice low.
"Let him go, Spike," Willow yanked at Spike's shoulders.
"Not until he answers my question," Spike pressed harder against his windpipe, "What did this?"
"The amulet," Dean fought the urge to choke, oxygen slightly deprived from his lungs, "The minute it came off she dropped like a brick."
Spike released a bit on the pressure, "Is she gonna need a doctor?"
"She just needs sleep," Dean broke from his hold, pushing Spike in the chest, "I need your ugly mug outta my face."
Their shoulders smacked as Spike let Dean pass. Bobby and Sam followed him down the hall.
"I guess it works then?" Bobby inquired.
"A little too good if you ask me," Dean dropped onto the couch, head in his hands, "She went from zero to incredible hulk in the span of a second. Cas said the amulet drains the wearer at first, and she would have to adjust to it… but, were don't have that kinda time, and I'm worried the amount of power she would need to tap to get in the ring with Lilith might just kill her."
"Are you saying we don't use it?" Sam asked incredulously.
"I'm saying I think we need a plan B, just in case."