Buffy stepped inside of Room 335, leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and tapped the back of her head against the wall. Matti was asleep, while Cordelia watched over her.
"Are you okay?" the cheerleader asked. "Is Willow okay?"
The Slayer looked up at the ceiling and shook her head. "I don't know. Will's just… she's just there, like… like whatever happened just… burned her out and left a shell." She pressed a hand to her mouth and shivered. "There's a doctor, she's one of the Knights, she says there's nothing wrong, at least nothing that can be measured."
"What are they going to do?"
"You can't treat someone until you know what's wrong." Buffy shook her head and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. "I'm… I'm going to call my mom to come get us."
"I'm going to stay here." Cordelia looked at Matti, then back at the Slayer. "Her doctor came in, while you were up there and there's no sign of infection, which means they'll send her home tomorrow, so I'm just going to… wait."
"Oh." Buffy nodded. "Hold on, how will she get home?"
Cordelia thought about the question. "I don't know… her car's still at the house."
"If… if you can find out where she keeps the keys, maybe my mom can take you h..." Buffy stumbled over the word.
Cordelia shrugged. "Might as well say 'home'. It's as close as I've got."
"Maybe my mom take you to pick up the car." Buffy held up her hands in a vague gesture.
Cordelia nodded. "Okay, okay… that would be good."
The Slayer hitched a thumb toward the hall. "I'm gonna go… Xander and Oz were up on five, in a waiting room, if you need anything… you'll be all right?"
Cordelia settled back in the chair. "Really?"
Buffy lightly bonked her head with the heel of her hand. "Yeah, stupid question. I'm going… uh, let us know if anything changes?"
"Tell your mom I said 'thank you', for reals." The brunette tucked her legs up under her and looked at the sleeping teacher.
"There was an announcement on the radio," Joyce said as she drove along Whiteoak. "School is canceled tomorrow and Tuesday. I guess after all the…"
"Carnage would be a good word," Buffy said, slouched in the passenger seat.
"I'd prefer something less graphic," Joyce said.
"I'm just glad for a couple days off." Buffy settled down into the seat. "Where's Faith?"
Joyce signaled a lane change. "She wanted to stay at the house." Mother and daughter were silent for the rest of the drive, the cabin of the Cherokee filled by the sounds of the '70s rock station Joyce favored. Buffy found herself lulled into a doze by the strains of the Little River Band's 'Reminiscing' and snapped into wakefulness when the Jeep stopped; for a horrifying moment she heard some band singing about 'kissing you all over'
"Mom, you gotta get better tunes," she mumbled.
Joyce smiled sweetly. "Maybe I can find a station that plays 'Cotton Eye Joe'."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "In my defense, I was a freshman, but yeah... that hasn't aged well." She slid out of the passenger seat and followed her mother into the house. "I'm going to my room," she announced.
"Fine. Dinner will be ready in, say, thirty minutes."
"Cool." Buffy trotted up the stairs. She was just about to enter her bedroom when she glanced through the half-open door of the guest room. She could see Faith sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring at something. The Slayer crossed the landing and tapped lightly on the door. "Everything okay?"
"Huh? Yeah, yeah, everything's cool. Five by five." Faith offered up a smile that seemed more expected than felt. Buffy pushed the door a little wider and stepped in. Clothes were stacked on the bed according to type.
"Nice haul." The Slayer inclined her head toward the
"Yeah." Faith seemed slightly stunned. "Your, uh, your mom was great. She took me to Hot Topic, and this other store called… Della's?"
"Delia's." Buffy nodded. "That one's nice."
"Yeah." Faith nodded in turn.
Buffy hesitated. "I'm not Miss Cleo, but… you don't seem all right. Are you sure everything's… 'five by five'." She grinned in what she hoped was an encouraging manner as she sat down on the bed. She noticed that Faith wore a black Sleater-Kinney T-shirt so new the fold lines were still visible.
The dark Slayer bit her lower lip. "Your mom… bought me underwear."
Buffy's eyebrows went up as she looked off to her left. "Well, yeah, I mean, people wear underwear. Society approves."
Faith looked frustrated as she groped for words. "It's… I don't know, this is hard for me to say, B. I… All my clothes were hand-me-downs or Goodwill… except what I shoplifted. I've never… gone into a nice store and just picked out stuff. It's… It makes me feel weird. I mean, look at this." Faith reached down, out of Buffy's field of vision, and pulled up a pair of boots. "Look."
"Yeah, boots, like you had before."
"No, B. What I had before were cheap-ass knock-offs… your mom went into a shoe store and bought me a pair of real Docs, and then…" She dropped the boots with an audible thump as she reached down again, this time coming up with a pair of Chelsea boots with lug soles. "She bought me these, too."
"Yeah, I know those. My mom loves them," Buffy said.
"They're, like, from fuckin' Australia or something." Faith looked at Buffy and the brunette's eyes were dark and deep. "I mean, a week ago, I was in jail, I was in a cage, and now… your mom is just walking into stores and telling me to pick stuff out, no questions, and… it's really messing with my head."
"Faith." Buffy risked placing her hand on the other girl's knee. "This isn't a trick. My mom's not trying to fatten you up like Hansel or Gretel. No one's playing a game."
"Girls, dinner in ten minutes. Hope you're good with tacos." Joyce's voice floated up the stairs.
Buffy eyes sparkled as she bit her lip. "Her timing needs work."
"This movie is making me uncomfortable," Buffy said, hugging a throw pillow.
Faith tossed popcorn into her mouth. "I think it's pretty good."
"Yeah, it's good." Buffy drew the first word out at length, then dropped her voice to a whisper. "It's my mom." Both girls looked at Joyce; she was completely focused on the TV, but her eyes also seemed to be somewhere far away. "I mean, this movie's from 1982. Do the math."
Faith giggled and put her head on Buffy's shoulder. "You're thinkin' your mom had the hots for young Mel Gibson's chili?"
"Shut up." Buffy punched the dark Slayer in the shoulder. "But young Mel Gibson is objectively tasty."
"Girls, the movie." Joyce made a shushing gesture, but her gaze never left the screen. She did look annoyed when the phone rang, but she punched the pause button on the remote.
"I'll get it," Buffy said, unfolding from the couch. "Summers' residence."
"Ah, Buffy, this is-"
"You think I don't know who this is? Giles, please." She held up a 'wait' hand to her mother and stepped around the corner. "What's the sitch?"
"The, uh, the Knights would like for us to meet with them tomorrow for a full debriefing."
"I get to choose whose pants I pull down."
"Ex-Excuse me?" Even over the phone, Giles sounded flustered.
"Because 'debriefing', if you break it up, it's 'de-briefing', like… Forget it. It'll have to be tomorrow afternoon. I'm going to the hospital in the morning. Where will they be, the library?"
"No." Giles was quite firm. "There's too much work going on at the school. The meeting will be at Ms. Hollis's home."
Buffy nodded. "Okay, let me know the exact time and I'll see you there. Bye." She hung up the phone and jumped on the sofa next to Faith. "We're meeting with the Knights tomorrow," she said as Joyce started the movie. The Slayer nodded toward the TV. "Looks like that isn't the only year of living dangerously."
The hospital looked foreboding as the Slayer passed into the shadow cast by the morning sun rising behind the building. Traffic was lighter in the morning; she was the lone passenger in the elevator. When she disembarked on the fifth floor, she checked the waiting room. Oz was there, leafing through a back issue of Consumer Reports. "Looking for a new washing machine?" she asked, pointing to the magazine.
'Not really," he said, dropping the publication on the table. "But I am going to have to replace the van. Their ratings are pretty reliable."
"Oh. How's everyone this morning?"
Oz scratched his hair and stifled a yawn. "I went home about midnight… didn't want to risk falling asleep here. Xander stayed, I relieved him about seven-thirty."
"And Willow?"
"I haven't talked to her parents… it doesn't seem right, but I did overhear them talking to the doctor."
Buffy gave him a skeptical look. "Were you cheating?"
"Maybe a little. Anyway, there's no change." Oz twitched his head to the left, in the direction of Willow's room. "They were going to get some breakfast, then go home and change."
"She's alone now?"
Oz raised one eyebrow. "Somebody might have slipped in after they left."
The two teens shuffled awkwardly for a moment, then Buffy said, "Well, I'm gonna go sit with her for a while." Room 557 was dim; the overhead lights were off and the sun was still on the other side of the building. The chair was pulled to the window at a slightly different angle, as though diverse views of the entrance might stir Willow.
"Hey, good morning," Buffy said as she pulled the visitor's chair up beside her friend. "Different robe today, huh?" She sat down and looked out the window. "It's gonna be a nice day, I think…" She talked and talked, about everything and nothing, until the opening of the door startled her. The Slayer was out of the chair and facing the door in a heartbeat, which caused Sheila Rosenberg to jump.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Rosenberg, I… No one was here, so I just came in to see Willow."
Mrs. Rosenberg fanned her hands in front of her face. "It's all right… Buffy, I just didn't expect to see anyone." She took a step into the room. "How did you know Willow was here?"
Buffy slapped one thigh. "Oh, you know, school grapevine… I mean, when something terrible happens… like this, you know… you can't keep it a secret." She offered a weak smile.
"Yes, I know." Sheila flicked on the lights; the sudden illumination made the Slayer blink rapidly. Willow's mother crossed the room and placed a hand on her daughter's unmoving shoulder. "The police said that another student, a young man… died. What… I mean, do you know why he would have been at the school with Willow, on a Saturday?"
"Um, uh, well, I know Will tutored him… and his grades were terrible, so… I guess Willow was probably going to help him on an extra credit project?" Buffy held her breath.
"That sounds like something she would do." Mrs. Rosenberg shook her head. "I'm just so thankful that teacher was there… according to the police, she was working in another part of the building and heard the commotion. If she hadn't gone to the library… I don't know what might have happened." Her chin went total prune and quivered. "Although, this… this is bad enough."
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Rosenberg, but… the police told you that's what happened?"
Willow's mother wiped at her eyes. "Well, not the police, exactly… I think the FBI was there, the woman who talked to us wasn't from Sunnydale, but she seemed to be in charge."
Buffy nodded. "Oh, sure."
Mrs. Rosenberg sniffled. "I, uh, I'm going to go pull myself together… You go ahead and sit with Willow."
"Sure, I'll, uh, I'll say goodbye, and then I've… I've got somewhere I need to be."
Willow's mom nodded. "I know. Your life goes on." She covered her mouth with a hand and hurried from the room. Buffy sighed and shook her head, then went around and crouched down in front of her friend.
"Will, I've got to go… We're meeting with the Knights…" The Slayer reached out and grasped her friend's hands. "Please, Will, come back. Please." Willow remained unmoving, her wide, dark eyes looking out at something visible only to her. Buffy swallowed her tears and stood up, then reached out to pluck a hair from the shoulder of Willow's chenille robe. It broke in her fingers.
Joyce Summers placed her napkin on the table. "No change at all? Oh, honey, I'm so sorry."
"She had on a different robe, does that count?" Buffy picked at her plate. "I'm sorry… I know I'm ruining lunch."
"Not mine." Faith slathered butter on a roll and took a healthy bite. She did not appear to be suffering from any diminished appetite. "I mean…" The dark Slayer chewed and swallowed "...no change means not any worse, right?"
Buffy flashed back to the last time she'd seen Willow in a similar state (and the morbid thought ticked across her mind that being able to easily recall a time when your friends appeared to be in a supernatural coma was not normal) and pursed her lips. "I guess… that's one way to look at it." She dropped her fork on the table and rubbed her forehead.
"Hey, B, not to be pushy, but are you gonna eat those fries?"
"No." Buffy pushed her plate across the table. "You take 'em."
The black SUVs were still parked in Matti's driveway, but three more lined the street. "These guys are subtle as a flying anvil," Buffy muttered as Joyce pulled into the driveway behind Giles's Citroen.
Joyce put the Jeep in park. "So, you'll call when you're done?"
Buffy sighed. "Yeah."
Joyce nodded. "It's starting to bother me that I discuss you being at a meeting about the end of the world the way other mothers treat picking up their kids at the mall."
"This is my life," Buffy said and slammed the door.
"How do you think this is gonna go down?" Faith said.
"No idea." Buffy shook her head. "But in my experience there will be a stick up more than one ass." Giles opened the door and stepped out on the porch, waiting for them. "Do you need to hear the secret password?" Buffy asked as the Slayers mounted the steps. The Watcher shook his head and held the door.
The living room of Matti's house was full, crowded even. Lechler stood framed in the doorway to the guest bedroom, looking every inch the head honcho. Doctor Charbonneau occupied a chair to his left. Three Knights, whom Buffy had never seen before, were arranged on the sofa. Matti was in the other armchair, her injured arm tightly wrapped, as Cordelia stood behind her. The chairs from the dining room table had been brought into the space; three of them were empty in front of the picture window while the rest were in use.
"Wow," Faith said. "I feel outnumbered already."
"And who are you?" Lechler queried.
"Me?" Faith stuck her hands in her jacket pockets and gave the slow shoulder roll that Buffy recognized, and not in a good way. "I'm Faith. I believe you already know my clients, Mr. Giles and Miss Summers." The dark Slayer ran her tongue over her lower teeth.
"Clients? What…? Miss, this meeting is restricted access, open only to those involved in the events of last Saturday night."
"Then you are one fuckin' lucky guy, 'cause I was involved up to my ass." Faith cocked a challenging eye at the Knight.
Buffy turned toward the dark Slayer. "You seem to be swearing a lot, even for you," she whispered in the other girl's ear.
Faith leaned over and dropped her voice. "You can be the good cop."
"Oh."
"I was there, too." Cordelia's voice had a whip-crack quality.
"No." Lechler's jaw tightened. "We have already determined that you are to leave when the meeting begins, and I have a feeling that it just began."
Matti looked over her shoulder at Cordelia. "Just take the car and go to the park, or the mall, or something." Cordelia looked daggers at everyone in the room, then threw back her head and stalked to the door. The sound of its closing echoed in the living room. Lechler indicated the empty seats. Buffy and Giles sat; Faith perched on the edge of her chair like a hawk waiting for a rabbit to come out into the open.
"Now, so we can be clear, who are you?" Lechler asked.
Faith looked at him with hooded eyes. "I'm a Slayer."
Buffy almost laughed; the Knights actually glitched, like a DVD with a small scratch. Lechler shot a sideways look at Matti, then said, "I thought there was only one Slayer."
Giles leaned forward. "Yes, well, there is something of an… anomaly involved. At the end of her tenth grade year, Buffy was… killed... by the Master."
"Killed?" Lechler turned his head slightly.
"Er, yes, her heart stopped beating and she stopped breathing, which, apparently, meets the definition of death, at least for the purposes of the Calling Ritual." The Watcher rubbed his hands together. "However, one of Buffy's classmates performed CPR on her, which stands for cardiopulmonary-"
"We know what CPR stands for, Mr. Giles." Dr. Charbonneau stifled a small smile. Is she their good cop? Buffy wondered.
"Yes, of course. Anyway, some months later, Kendra Young appeared in Sunnydale, having been called when Buffy passed away."
"Wait a minute." One of the couch Knights raised a hand. "There are three Slayers?"
"No, no… Kendra was killed by Drusilla last year."
Lechler blinked. "This town has quite a body count."
"Probably why you didn't show your chicken ass until it was all over." Faith slumped back in her chair, examining her nails. A slight flush crept up Lechler's throat as Buffy fought a smile.
"Faith, please." Giles held out a calming hand. "After Kendra died, Faith was called…" His voice faltered and he shot a quick glance at the brunette Slayer, who stiffened slightly. "She came to Sunnydale on the trail of the Reverend Othniel Hampton."
Lechler nodded, then looked at Matti, then back at Giles. "We… were unaware of that. It would have been useful information." He cleared his throat. "So, let's see where we stand now. Pipkin?"
A woman at one end of the sofa stood. She wore a black skirt suit that matched the color of her short hair. "We have been in control of the crime scene since mid-morning on Sunday. There was no real difficulty convincing the local police force to let us take the lead." Faith snorted; Pipkin looked irritated, but resumed her narrative. "We have overseen the removal of non-human remains representative of several various types. We also discovered a large cache of mostly non-modern weapons in the library office." Giles's eyes widened; Buffy recognized his irritated face. "Said weapons have been secured and will be returned to you, Mr. Giles, as soon as possible."
"Did the police find the weapons first?" Buffy asked.
"No. Once we received affirmative confirmation that the incident was over, we called the Sunnydale PD and asked them to secure the crime scene, but to take no investigative action."
"Bet they were only too glad to do that," Faith mumbled.
"We also recovered a box containing a cut blue sapphire. Said box had suffered extensive damage from the inside, and said stone bore extensive etching." She looked around the room. "We believe that this stone was the Seal. We have it in our possession and it will be secured-"
"Just a sec." Buffy held up a hand. "You said 'was' the Seal."
Pipkin nodded. "Yes. We have subjected the sapphire to every thaumaturgic analysis we can run onsite. Whatever power it held appears to have been discharged. At this time, it appears to be just a gemstone."
"Wait a minute," Buffy said, her mind racing. "Is that what happened to Willow?"
"We can't be sure what happened to Miss Rosenberg," Lechler said, "since there were only two witnesses to the incident, and one of them is dead and the other is non-responsive."
"Yeah, whatever." The Slayer turned to Dr. Charbonneau. "You're the doctor. What do you think?"
Charbonneau sat quite still for a while, her eyes shifting back and forth. Finally, she said, "The amount of energy stored in the Seal would be staggering. If Miss Rosenberg was in its presence when it was dispersed, it could have overwhelmed her system, like a breaker being thrown when a power surge occurs."
"Could she have caused it?"
"Caused what? The discharge of the Seal's energy?" Charbonneau thought about that for a few minutes. "First, how would she do that? Second, it would be impossible to survive that, I would think."
"What if she did?"
Charbonneau leaned forward, her voice suffused with sympathy. "That is impossible."
Buffy shook her head. "You keep using that word. I don't think it means what you think it means… especially in Sunnydale."
Charbonneau's eyes twinkled for a moment, then she leaned back in the chair. "Then why don't you tell me what it means."
Buffy looked at Giles. "Willow could… how would you put it?"
Giles looked down at his hands as he rubbed his palms together. "Willow had developed the ability… I should provide more context. Last year, when Angelus was terrorizing Sunnydale-"
"We heard a little bit about that," Lechler said.
"Yes, well, Miss… Jenny Calendar, a teacher at the school, recreated a spell to draw Angel's soul from the ether and restore it. Willow performed the spell-"
"Why did she do it? Why didn't this teacher?" Lechler demanded.
"Angelus murdered her." Giles's voice was very quiet. "If I may continue? After Willow performed the ritual, it appears that she became more… sensitive. Some time after that, she was the victim of another student's misguided spell attempt."
Pipkin shook her head. "This place is insane."
"This place sits on a Hellmouth." Giles's voice recovered a little of its customary sharpness. "Please, do not denigrate what these ch– young people have endured. Willow revealed to me some weeks ago that she had begun to experience other planes of existence. In my opinion, this was the result of immate talent coupled with these… incidents."
"Well, how does the deceased student figure in this?" Lechler's brow furrowed.
"According to Willow, she could access this… Never Never, as she called it, but she was unable to perform any action while there. She would be, in her words, 'kicked out'. I gather that Tyler… that was his name, by the way, Tyler, was able to stabilize her presence, at least that was what I observed."
"How did that work?" Charbonneau asked.
Matti closed her eyes. "He was the seventh son of a seventh son."
"I believe she did mention something about that," Giles conceded.
Charbonneau's eyes widened. "How did he… stabilize her?"
Giles spread his hands. "He put his hand on her arm."
Charbonneau leaned back and exhaled. "I'm going to take a wild guess here… I won't even dignify it by calling it a hypothesis, but if she was in this… altered state you describe, and she interacted with the Seal on that plane of reality while he was in physical contact with her, it might be like electricity… it flowed through her into him, and he was the terminal point… maybe."
"And that's why he died?" Buffy asked. "Then why is Willow all Cuckoo's Nest?"
"I can't answer that," Dr. Charbonneau replied. "This is so far outside anything I've really studied… we've got alternate planes of reality, bound energies, magical constructs…" She shook her head. "I'm guessing that when that much energy flowed through her, or over her, or… whatever, it basically overwhelmed her. She's on an EEG monitor and the electrical activity in her brain is… pretty high."
"Does that explain her eyes?" Buffy leaned forward.
"Huh?" Faith frowned.
Buffy gestured toward her own eyes. "Will's pupils are all blown out. They stay wide open, no matter how much light is in the room."
"You noticed the mydriasis." Charbonneau nodded. "That's often a symptom of traumatic brain injury, but there's nothing of the sort present here, so, and again, I'm guessing, it must be an internal event."
"Whatever." Buffy waved a dismissive hand. "Can you fix it?"
The doctor's mouth opened and closed several times before she finally said, "I've never seen anything like this before. I'm not even sure what happened. I certainly can't think of any treatment."
Buffy felt the room spin, then she realized she was standing on the porch, sobbing, with no memory of how she got there. Faith was beside her, awkwardly sorta-patting her arm. She heard a firm step on the boards behind her. "Buffy–" Giles began, and then she threw herself into his arms and buried her face in his scratchy wool sweater-vest. Faith raised her hands to shoulder height and stepped back. Giles said nothing, simply held her until she was cried out. Finally, she stepped back, swiping at her eyes with the heels of her hands.
"I'm… I'm sorry," she said, nodding toward the large wet spot on his sweater.
"You have nothing to apologize for," her Watcher said. "I think you should call your mother to come and pick you up."
"I'm afraid that's impossible, Mr. Giles." Lechler spoke from the doorway. "We're not finished here."
Giles turned, one finger upraised. "She is finished, she is done. I will be glad to answer any questions you care to direct to me, but here is all you need to know about Buffy's role in this entire fiasco. She saved the world. Again."
"That may be, but we need to continue."
"No," Giles said.
Lechler leaned forward slightly. "What if I insist?"
"Oh yeah." Faith's shoulders jumped three or four times. "About fuckin' time."
Lechler turned his gaze onto the dark Slayer. "You do realize that there are at least half-dozen Knights of the Cross in there?"
Faith giggled and her eyes sparkled. "Did you see what we did at the school Saturday night? Bring on the toy soldiers, man, 'cause I'm about bored outta my mind."
Lechler hesitated, then looked at Giles. "I suppose we can continue with you, Mr. Giles, if we can be assured that Miss Summers can be available for further questions if needed."
"What about me?" Faith tossed her head back. "What about… Miss Lehane?" A gigantic grin split her wine-red lips.
Lechler inclined his head and smiled wryly. "I think we understand your role very well." He gestured toward the living room. "Mr. Giles?" The librarian followed the Knight into the house. As the door closed, Faith ran her tongue around her teeth and lifted her hands, both middle fingers extended.
"Faith," Buffy said, her voice tired.
"Just havin' some fun, B." The dark Slayer slapped Buffy's shoulder.
Buffy shook her head. "C'mon, let's find a pay phone. I don't want to ask to use the phone in there."
The volunteers who usually manned the welcome desk had gone home long ago. A few tired souls sat, zombie-like, in the chairs outside the first-floor coffee shop. The young woman shook her head as got onto the elevator; hospitals were, by their very nature, depressing places. The bell dinged, she got off the elevator and turned left, walked past the room she was looking for, and stopped in front of a utility closet. She glanced around, but at this hour of the night, all staff was occupied with their own duties; nobody had time to notice one person lost in the hall. She satisfied herself that no one had noticed her, then went into the closet. She emerged seconds later, now clad in pale-blue scrubs instead of the overcoat she'd worn before. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, secured it with a rubber band, and walked confidently to the door of 557 and let herself in.
The girl was in bed, the blanket pulled up with her arms atop the covers. Other than that, she looked exactly the way she had when her best friend visited her that morning. Wires led from various spots on her body to monitors that cast a pale green glow over her.
For a dark moment, Josie wondered if Willow had actually fallen asleep or if her eyes had been closed like the eyes of a dead person, then she shook her head. "Too much imagination," she murmured. She pulled one of the chairs up beside the bed and sat down, studying Willow's face.
"You're so busy figuring out if you can do something, you don't stop to ask if you should." Josie shook her head. "Sometimes, movies get it right. Let's see what we can see." She laid a hand on the girl's forehead, then jerked back. "Wow. That's like drinking from a firehose." Josie ran her hands along her hair. "Okay, at the risk of sounding like a complete nerd, let's see if this is where life finds a way." She shook her wrists, loosening her hands like a pianist preparing for a concerto, then leaned over the bed and placed her hands on the girl's head, the thumbs meeting in the center of the forehead like the point of a large 'W', the fingers splaying out along the sides of Willow's skull. Josie exhaled and closed her eyes, the lids twitching like someone in deep REM sleep. She held the position for a few seconds, then stepped back quickly and raised her hands.
"Whew," she said, "that was tingly." She wiped her hands on her scrubs and returned the chair to its place. She looked around the room, then went out the door. She heard a voice from behind her as she turned toward the utility closet.
"Was something wrong in there?"
Josie turned. The nurse standing in the hall looked tired, near the end of her shift. Josie kept walking backwards. "No, nothing. Just got a funky reading… it turned out to be a glitch." She turned around and walked to the end of the corridor, turned left, then ducked back to look around the corner. The door to 557 was just closing. Josie hurried into the utility closet and re-emerged; her trench-coated back turned the corner as the nurse came out of 557 and went to the nurse's station.
Buffy looked up at the ceiling. The dim glow of the streetlight caused her curtains to create shifting abstract patterns on the ceiling and, since she certainly wasn't sleeping, she watched the play of light and shadow.
"Hey, B."
The Slayer gasped and flipped on her bedside lamp. Faith leaned in the doorway, arms wrapped in a self-hug. "You scared me to death," Buffy said. "Nice PJs."
Faith looked down at the periwinkle-blue pants with a pattern of moons and stars. The matching long-sleeved white top had a yellow star in the middle of the chest. "Yeah, your… you know."
Buffy nodded. "My mom. What's up?"
"Me," Faith said. "Can't sleep."
"Sleepy-time's not in my future either." Buffy drew herself up to a sitting position and patted the foot of her bed. "Have a seat." Faith accepted the invitation. "So," Buffy said. "I know what's keeping me awake."
"Willow?" The single-point illumination of the lamp put part of the dark Slayer's face in deep shadow.
"Yeah. What about you?"
Faith rubbed her hand over the duvet. "I don't know." She threw her head back and looked at the ceiling. "It's like… if I go to sleep, when I wake up… when I wake up, I'll be back in that cage."
Buffy tried for a light tone. "You were pretty salty this afternoon."
"That's different. I'll always know how to kick ass." Faith flashed a sardonic grin.
"It is one of the perks of slaying." Buffy's mouth twisted. "Maybe the only one."
"Yeah, I remember the day it happened." Faith's eyes went dreamy. "It was, like, I was so angry, and then, in one second, I could do something with it. A lotta scores got settled that day." She shook her head. "I was still mad, though."
"I know," Buffy said. "I hated being the Slayer."
"No, I love being the Slayer. It just… it just didn't make the difference I thought it would."
"Are you girls all right?"
"Mom!" Buffy jerked hard enough that Faith bounced. "What are you doing?"
Joyce motioned behind her. "I live here. I sleep right over there."
Buffy put a hand on her chest as though to calm her heartbeat. "Well, next time, don't be so quiet."
Faith pointed her hands down at the wrists and walked them forward. "You were pretty sneaky, Mrs. S."
Joyce rolled her eyes. "Maybe I should walk around my own house banging a pot with a spoon. Do you need anything?"
"Nah." Faith stood up. "I couldn't sleep, but I think I'm okay now. See you in the morning." She brushed past Joyce and went into the guest room. Joyce turned back to her daughter and lifted her eyebrows.
"Girl talk," Buffy said, pulling her knees up to her chest. "Slayer girl talk.
Buffy got off the elevator; it was like being in Groundhog Day, only without the comedy. The nurses' station was up ahead on the right, the waiting room on the left, the door to 557 just past it. Dr. Charbonneau was at the nurses' station, conferring over a chart. She looked up as the Slayer approached, spoke quickly to the nurse, then intercepted Buffy.
"Wow, don't you ever go home?" the Slayer asked.
"I'm keeping an eye on my patient, and my home is far away." The doctor gestured with the chart she had carried with her.
"So, you're really Willow's doctor? Color me suspicious." Buffy crossed her arms.
"Yes, the hospital granted me privileges and the local neurology department was happy to let me lead." Charbonneau pursed her lips. "I'm really a very good doctor."
"Okay," Buffy said, "so, why are you here?"
Charbonneau's shoulders lifted slightly. "First, just as a neurologist, this is a fascinating case, a patient with no visible or verifiable trauma, yet in a state resembling a coma." She lowered her voice and leaned toward the Slayer. "It's also unique from my… other perspective. If your friend-"
"Willow. Her name's Willow."
Charbonneau nodded. "If Willow was conscious and could tell us what happened, we might understand it better, but, as of right now, this is a very special case. It's fascinating… and I know that's hard for you to hear, I know it sounds callous, but it's the truth." The doctor hesitated. "And I think that whatever she did, it was very rash and brave, and I respect that, so I'm going to watch over her as long as I can."
Buffy blinked. "That's surprisingly human of you." She head-pointed toward the room. "I'm going to go in, if that's okay."
"Certainly." Charbonneau touched one of her earrings. "You, uh, you just missed her parents."
The Slayer looked back over her shoulder. "Did I?"
"I know it's hard, but this is not your fault. As I understand it, you didn't show her how to do this or encourage her."
Buffy considered this, then looked down at the floor. "No… but if she'd never met me, she wouldn't have gotten involved with any of it."
Charbonneau considered this. "True, but there's a very good chance she'd be dead. Think about that." She tapped the chart against her hand, then turned away.
Buffy rolled her eyes. Everyone always had so much advice. She pushed open the door to 557. Willow was in the chair again, a slightly different angle, a different robe, but she looked thinner, her cheeks beginning to hollow. The Slayer felt as though someone had punched her in the heart. She started to drag the other chair to the window, then stopped. She went around and crouched, facing her friend. The wires for the EEG electrodes were bundled beneath Willow's chin, then stretched to the monitor on the wall, a fiber-optic umbilical cord tethering the redhead to the world. Buffy grasped her friend's hands and looked into her eyes, searching for a flicker of recognition, a spark of awareness. Willow's hands were cool and dry to the touch. Buffy tipped to her knees and leaned forward.
"Please, Will. Please come back." She bowed her head; tears dripped onto their joined hands. "Please," the Slayer breathed. She knelt there in a posture of abject supplication until her knees ached from the hard tile. She lifted her head, dried tears stiff on her cheeks, and started to stand up.
And couldn't free her hands. Well, she could have freed them; they weren't caught in a death grip, but definitely, definitely, they were held. She ducked back down.
"Will?" she gasped, but couldn't see any change. She searched her friend's face, the same way she used to watch the minute hand when she was little, when people told her that she couldn't see it move, but she watched it until she did see it move, or at least thought she did. She thought she was imagining it at first, but she forced herself to look away and then back, and she knew she wasn't hallucinating: Willow's pupils were shrinking, slowly, so slowly, at first, then more rapidly. As Buffy stifled a yell and a laugh and a sob all at once, Willow's breath hitched, she blinked, then looked at the Slayer.
"Buffy," she whispered, then swallowed. "Where am I? I'm… I'm really thirsty… and hungry."
Buffy looked up at the tap on the waiting room door. Dr. Charbonneau stood there, chart in hand. "May I come in?" she asked.
"Sure. Sure." Buffy stood up and wiped her hands on her pants.
"You have reinforcements?" Dr. Charbonneau nodded toward Xander and Oz, who had stood with the Slayer and now flanked her.
"Yeah, I called them when Will woke up." The Slayer gestured behind her. "This is-"
Dr. Charbonneau shook her head. "No offense, but what I don't know, I can't share, and I don't need to know."
"Spooky but, sure," Buffy said. "Do you know what happened?"
"I have no idea." The doctor consulted the chart. "There was a slight dip in the electrical activity of her brain late last night, then it stabilized until it dropped dramatically just before you came flying out of the room."
"What is it now?" Oz asked.
"Very pertinent question, young man. I might need to know your name." Charbonneau gave Oz the once-over. "It's at the high end of normal activity, but much lower than it was before."
"What does that mean?" Xander asked.
"It means that I'm going to run some tests and keep her under observation for the next twenty-four hours, but if all readings and responses remain as they are now, she'll be discharged tomorrow."
"It's wonderful news about Willow," Joyce said. She turned on the dishwasher and leaned against the counter. "And you have no idea what caused it?"
"None." Buffy scooted a chair under the table. "I asked the doctor if holding her hands might have caused it, and she said, and I quote, 'I'm a doctor, not a faith healer'."
"Somebody talkin' about me?" Faith leaned against the wall. "You ready to go, B?"
"You bet," Buffy replied. "Don't wait up, Mom."
"Don't tell me not to wait up," Joyce replied. "Are you girls sure you need to patrol?"
"Yeah, unfortunately, the undead never rest." Buffy shrugged. "But there won't be many of them for a while, and they'll be lame, mostly Trick's nerd squad."
"Well, don't get overconfident. You be safe. Faith, take care of my daughter."
Faith grinned. "Sure, Mrs. S. I'll get her street-smarts up to speed."
"Excuse me," Buffy said. "I'm plenty street-smart."
"Right," Faith said. "There's, what, three streets in Sunnydale?"
"But I know 'em all like the back of my hand.
The vampire spun away from Buffy and began to sprint away, but ended up running right into Faith. The dark Slayer grabbed a lapel and turned the hapless demon to face her, then stabbed upward with great gusto and was rewarded with a satisfying shower of glittering dust. She kicked at the ashes swirling away in the breeze.
"Man, I'm not even breaking a sweat." Faith tossed her stake from hand to hand. "Not as exciting as I'd hoped."
"Yeah." Buffy pushed her hair off her face. "That guy wasn't exactly the face of evil."
"Oh, he was the face of evil, all right. He was just the Shemp face of evil."
Buffy mock-shivered. "So cold. Not even the Curly Joe face?"
"Girl's gotta have her standards. Let's go find some better action."
Buffy extended a hand. "Lead on, Macduff."
Faith glanced over her shoulder. "Is that a quote of some kind?"
Buffy shook her head as she fell into step. "Probably not… or if it is, I probably got it wrong. Maybe it's lead on, McGruff."
"Are you sure you want to go this way?" Buffy frowned as the night breeze brushed her face and rustled her hair.
"Seems like the most likely place to find stragglers." Faith pushed a branch aside and stepped out of the tree line. The open ground rolled away until it reached the fence that encompassed the CRD campus. Buffy swallowed. She had looked across this space with Angel, but the electricity tonight was an entirely different voltage.
"Y'know, I really wanted to kill you that night," Faith said as they stood side by side.
"I really wanted to die," Buffy replied. The grass stretched away, gently declining until it met the cyclone fence. A shiver ran up her back as she realized that, if they looked, they would find evidence of that awful, awful night, maybe even step in the holes where the posts had been set. "Every messed-up thing I've ever done comes at me a thousand times a day. Every time I see Angel… when somebody mentions Miss Calendar… When I… when I remember… I'm sorry, Faith… I'm so, so sorry… but I can't make it go away."
"I know." Faith's voice was pure pain. "I know it wasn't your fault, I know Trick made you do it, but…" Her words dissolved into weeping. Buffy edged slightly to her right; she really wanted to be out of arm's reach.
Faith's breath hitched. "I remember, once, when I was little, my mom took us to Harvard Square, I can't remember why… that was so far outside our neighborhood, I mean, I thought Dorchester Center was fancy, but we went… maybe it was Christmas, I kinda think it was… and there were jugglers and musicians, and people with money walking around, laughing and looking happy, and I… I shoulda thought it was great, but… I was only five or six, but I knew then I wasn't one of those people." Tears dripped from the tip of her nose and fell onto the grass; Faith swiped at her cheeks. "And then Lindsay came along and, for, like, a hot minute, I thought it might be different… and now she's gone." She shook her head furiously. "And… and it's just gonna happen again, a glimpse and then it's taken away."
"Faith," Buffy said. "Those people aren't those people."
Faith's laugh surrounded a sob. "Are you gettin' deep on me? 'cause I remember, they were real people."
"No, I mean, they were lying… or maybe not lying, but they weren't that way all the time" Buffy covered her mouth with her hands and looked over at the other girl. "You don't know about Cordelia's parents."
Faith scoffed. "I know they're rich."
"No, no, I mean… Faith, didn't you wonder why Cordelia was at Ms. Hollis's house yesterday afternoon?"
The dark Slayer shrugged. "She's the cheerleading coach, Cordelia was a cheerleader, they were both there Saturday night…"
Buffy shook her head. "Listen to me, Faith, listen. Cordelia was there because she's living with Ms. Hollis. Cordelia… her mom killed her dad and then herself, then it turned out that her dad was a major cheater and a huge fraud, the IRS and FBI came in and, long story short, Cordelia's got about two gym bags worth of clothes to her name."
"Wait, what?" Faith looked stunned. The sodium glare of the security lights bleached out her face.
"Everything we thought we knew about Cordelia, everything she thought she knew about herself, it was a lie. I bet… I bet most of the people you saw were lying. Don't you see?" Buffy summoned all the hope she could muster.
"Her parents… murder-suicide? How do you know that?"
Buffy bit her lip. "Because Willow and I found them."
"Whoa!" Faith turned to face the Slayer head-on. "That's fucked up, even for my neighborhood."
"Do you know what I did after I stabbed Angel?" Buffy pushed her hands into the pockets of her hoodie to hide the shaking.
"You ran away, then you came back?" Faith bent down and tugged up some grass, then stood up and scattered it to the wind.
"I…" Buffy took a deep breath. "I spent the summer living in a cardboard box. I was sure nobody ever wanted to see me again, there was no way I could make things right. I gave up… I just… gave up."
Faith's chin jutted into the cool air. "What's your point, B?"
Buffy stepped closer and braced herself. "This is going to sound stupid, because so much of your pain is my fault, but, here goes… I'm not going to let you feel alone the way I did… I'm not going to let you give up."
Faith shot a cockeyed glance at Buffy. "Is this where the score really swells up, maybe the big ballad kicks in?"
Buffy nodded. "Yeah, it is, because as Celine Dion as it sounds, it's true, and I mean it."
"Why?"
"Because I'm the only other person who understands what it's like to be a Slayer."
Faith nodded and turned to face her. The dark Slayer's face still bore the tracks of her tears. "I appreciate this and all, but it's gettin' a little soppy here. What say we light up some uglies?"
"Sure," Buffy nodded. "Just don't forget what I said."
"Man, did you see the way he ran?" Faith laughed so hard she wobbled as she walked.
"Well, to be fair, he kinda was the Urkel of vampires."
Faith held out a hand. "Wait, wait…" She pitched her voice high and nasal. "'Did I do that?'" She shook her head. "I loved that show."
"I did, too," Buffy said. "Hey, the lights are still on." She trotted up the front steps and let herself in. "Mom?"
"Yes, honey?" Joyce sat in one of the armchairs, reading.
"You're still awake."
"Buffy, it's only nine forty-five. I'm not ancient."
Faith stuck her head out from behind Buffy. "Hey, Mrs. S."
"Faith. Buffy, Sheila Rosenberg called."
Buffy felt her stomach drop. "Yeah?"
"Willow's coming home tomorrow. The doctors cleared her, said that she needed to report anything different or unusual to them, but they couldn't find anything wrong with her, so she's coming home."
"Mom!" Buffy flew to her mother and grabbed her in a ferocious hug. "That's so great." She spun around. "Faith, did you hear?"
"I'm right here, so, yeah, I heard." Faith smiled and gave a small nod. "That's boss."
"You sure you don't want to come with?" Buffy asked.
Faith shook her head. "Nah. This is a minute for you and Willow. I'll see her later, but this should just be you guys."
"Okay. I don't think I'll be gone long… if you need anything, you can call my mom at work, or maybe call me at the Rosenberg's."
Faith made a shooing gesture toward the door. "I think I can survive unsupervised in Sunnydale for one afternoon. Go."
"Hello, Buffy." Sheila Rosenberg opened the door wide. "It's good to see you. Willow's up in her room."
Buffy licked her lips. "Does she feel like company?"
"Oh, I think so. She'll be very happy to see you." Sheila smiled and rubbed her hands together.
"Well, then, I, uh, guess I'll just go upstairs." Buffy put one foot on the lowest tread.
"Yes, yes, go right ahead. Would you like anything to drink? Snacks?"
"Maybe a soda." The Slayer launched herself up the steps. Willow's bedroom door was closed; the Slayer gave it a gentle knuckle-rap. The knob turned; it opened to reveal Willow's sad smile.
"Hey," she said. "It's good to see you. You kinda split yesterday."
Buffy held up her hands in a 'slow-down' gesture. "It's not like they were gonna let me back in after Miracle Girl woke up."
Willow winced. She turned away from the door and sat on the bed. Buffy followed and sat down beside her friend. "You okay?"
"Yeah. the doctor asked a lot of questions, you knokw, about what happened, what did I remember, that kinda stuff. Gave me a card with a phone number... a phone number that's not Sunnydale." Willow bit her lip. "She... knew a lot. She was one of the Knight, wasn't she?"
"Yeah, but the important thing is that you're awake and home."
Willow's forehead puckered. "I did an Icarus, Buffy. I flew too close to the sun."
"But you lived."
Willow turned and looked at her best friend, a look to break a person's heart. "But someone else didn't. Someone else died for my wings."
"Very harsh on yourself." Buffy reached up and touched her friend's face. "Hey, is that white streak changing color?" The strip was down to a handful of yellowed threads.
"No." Willow looked down at her hands folded in her lap. "It's falling out, or breaking off. It didn't really change color. The hair died. See?" She tilted her head forward and the Slayer could see a scraggly dime-sized patch of stubble near the part in her friend's hair. Willow raised her head, her eyes shiny with tears. "Everyone's so happy that I'm home, but… Giles was right, Buffy. I shouldn't have done it, but I did, and now he's dead. He was just a dumb, stubborn kid… and I killed him."
"Willow, you don't know–"
"I do." The redhead turned on her friend so suddenly that Buffy drew back. "I remember it, how it felt, at least most of it… It was… it was bigger than I ever imagined, and it was killing me, and then… it was like pulling the plug out of the sink, I could feel it going past me, through me… and then it exploded, and then… and then I saw him… and he was…" Willow closed her eyes and tears spilled from her lashes and ran down her cheeks in rivulets. "I felt so strange… like I was in a room that was filling up with water, and it was getting to my nose, and then it… it went over me, and I… I drowned and can't remember anything until yesterday." Her breathing hitched. "He died because of me… nobody knows what that's like."
The Slayer took her friend's hand. "I do."
Willow shook her head. "You've never-"
"Never what? Will, Miss Calendar died because of me. Lindsay died a horrible death because… because I kept Faith away from her. If anybody knows that pain, it's me."
Willow looked up, her face crumpled, lips and chin quaking. "Well, what do you do?"
Buffy put her arm around her friend and pulled her close. "There's nothing you can do. You just have to live with it, and you let your friends hold you and keep you alive… if you're lucky and have friends like I do… like you do."
Willow's face squeezed tight shut, then relaxed a bit. She met Buffy's eyes. "Which other foot would you like that shoe to be on?"
Buffy closed the door and looked around the living room. The afternoon sunlight slanted through the windows, beams of golden light speckled with dancing dust motes. She took a moment, hoping her shoulders would relax; at the moment, they felt like she was carrying a backpack full of boulders. A board creaked on the second floor. She looked up and saw Faith standing at the top of the stairs. A heavy canvas duffle bag hung from the dark Slayer's shoulder as she descended the stairs.
"Laundry day?" Buffy asked, waving a hand at the bag and struggling to keep a light tone.
"Nah." Faith hitched the strap higher on her shoulder.
"So, uh…" Buffy's mouth was suddenly filled with cotton; she was unable to swallow.
"Shit," Faith said. "I was hoping to be outta here before you got back. I gotta bounce, B."
"You don't gotta." Buffy felt panic welling up inside her.
"Yeah, I do. This ain't my town." Faith moved to step around Buffy.
"It could be." The Slayer blocked the other girl's path.
Faith rocked back, creating space between them. "No, it couldn't." She gestured toward the door. "Unless you're achin' for me to deck you again, I'm gonna go."
Buffy stood her ground. "You can take your shot, but after I say what I have to say. Faith, you can stay here. My mom-"
"Yeah, your mom's the best, and that's not me being snotty. She's aces, but she's your mom." Faith took a deep breath and her eyes sparkled. "You hear me? She's your mom. Your little gang, they're your friends."
"They could be your friends, too." Buffy frowned. "Certain activities with Xander notwithstanding."
"That's pretty shitty." Faith licked her lips. "But not untrue."
"You were just going to leave? Let me and my mom come home to an empty house?"
Faith shook her head. "No way. I left a note on the bed."
Buffy went pale and her eyes grew wide. "Ohmigod, no, no. That… no."
"What?" Faith frowned. "Why are… Oh, you left a note…"
Buffy nodded. "On the bed."
"Oh, fuck, B. I'm sorry, I really am." Faith dropped the bag; it hit the floor with a solid thump. "You, uh, you probably should get it before your mom gets home."
"Or you could go upstairs and tear it up, then unpack your bag."
Faith's smile was forlorn. "You don't know when to quit, do you? I killed Trick, and I'd do it again, but I thought… I thought that would make things right… and it didn't. I'm the same person, and I'm in the same place." Her head dipped. "When me and Lindsay got here, I thought 'maybe I really can change', but… she's gone and… and I'm still the same person, only now I'm three thousand miles from home, and alone."
Buffy started to reach out, then hesitated. "You don't have to be."
Faith picked up the duffel again. "I think I kinda do. I… I beat up a lotta people when I was in Vegas, and they all deserved it, I mean, they were real assholes, but… I enjoyed it way too much. I kinda went looking for assholes, and I always found 'em. There's something I heard growing up 'Meet an asshole in the morning, you've met an asshole. Meet assholes all day, maybe you're the asshole'." She bit her lip. "There's something I've gotta work out, and I can't do it back in Boston, 'cause that'd just be jumping back into the sewer, but I can't do it here, either, because trying to fit into your little Wonder Years world, would… I'd always be on the outside, and one day, I'd just explode."
Buffy felt nauseous, like the words were a punch to the stomach. "But how will being alone-"
"I made a choice last night." Faith shifted the bag and looped the strap over her head. "Lindsay's gone, and that's that… but… here's what I'm thinking… she was always telling me that I could be better, and pushing me… and I think, maybe, instead of just acting like that's all over without her, maybe what I need to do is… try to find that inside of me, the me that she saw." She looked at Buffy. "But it's my job to do."
The Slayer's breath was ragged and slow. "Will you promise me something? If it gets bad, or it's not working, promise me you'll come back."
Faith laughed, the laugh used to cover tears and pain. "Sure. Tell you what, I'll send you a postcard, okay?" She ducked her head. "Now, unless you wanna fight, I'm going." Buffy blinked hard; her throat and stomach hurt as she stepped aside. Faith turned the doorknob and stepped out on the porch, then turned back. "I wish it didn't have to be this way, but it does."
"Wait one second." Buffy dashed into the kitchen and returned. She pressed three twenties into Faith's hand. "Here… Mom doesn't know that I know about her cookie-jar money."
Faith shook her head and stuffed the money into the pocket of her jeans. "I really do have to leave… I'm rubbing off on you."
Buffy felt her chin quivering. "Make sure you save at least one dime… in case you need to make a phone call."
Faith nodded and winked, trotted down the steps, and sauntered across the lawn. Buffy stood in the doorway long after Faith had turned the corner at the end of the block. When she finally stepped back, her shadow on the floor was much longer.