This is the last chapter, and I'll probably put up the epilogue tomorrow or Saturday.



“Damn magic,” Spike was muttering as he reluctantly put together the locator spell. “Always a disaster.”

“Gee, and you’re telling us this now?” Buffy asked, grinning half-heartedly. “You couldn’t have mentioned it back when Willow started with the insanity?”

“When did she start, anyway?” Angel wondered from where he was carefully cleaning out the wound in Faith’s arm. The bullet had finally been removed, although he’d needed to slice open nearly half of Faith’s arm to get to it.

They all looked at each other musingly. Faith finally nodded. “You’re right. We shouldn’t blame only Willow for this.”

“It’s your fault, you wanker,” Spike said, deadpan, to the other vampire.

“What?”

“Guys. Can we focus?” Buffy stood up. “Do we need anything else for this spell?”

“Yeah.” Faith nodded to the kitchen. “Willow uses this sand stuff and spreads it out over the map. We have some in the kitchen drawer.”

Buffy turned to retrieve it when the front door opened and a grim Xander and Dawn walked in.

“Guys?” Buffy asked shakily. There had still been a little part of her that had been desperately clinging to the belief that Tara was still there, somehow, clinging to life. “Any news?”

Xander shook his head as Dawn’s face crumpled. “It’s bad,” he said quietly.

“Locator spell. Now.” Spike turned back to his work abruptly, but Buffy could see the devastated look on his face from across the room. She nodded and headed back into the kitchen, sifting through a drawer full of Ziploc bags with various labels on them. Sage…Sunshine Spell…Will Be Done…Demon Hula Dance…wait. Demon Hula Dance?

“Never mind.” Faith’s voice was quiet, but with a fear that temporarily immobilized Buffy. Faith didn’t do fear. Not like that.

“W-Why not?”

“Because I’m right here, you idiot,” Willow drawled from somewhere just behind Buffy. Instinctively, her hand shot out to strike the witch, but Willow had some sort of shield up and her wrist was forcibly bent backward before she got close.

With one hand, Willow flung Buffy back into the living room with the others. “There’s just more space here. I hope you don’t mind,” she said mockingly.

“Willow, this isn’t the way!” Buffy said desperately. “I know you want to hurt Warren, but killing someone…it’ll destroy you, no matter how angry you are!”

“Please.” Willow rolled her eyes. “Warren’s dead. And so are his creepy friends.”

“You’re calling them creepy?” Faith muttered, and Willow’s eyes glittered.

“Oh, Faithie, this is going to be such fun.” She clapped her hands together. “See, you know what I figured out? This isn’t just about the nerds. This is about the people who let Tara die.”

“Will-“ Xander tried.

She silenced him with a lazy flick of a finger. “You don’t talk, Xander Harris. Don’t think I don’t remember who that bullet should have hit, and why it didn’t.” Her cold eyes moved back to Buffy. “So I thought about it. Who should be next to suffer? And there’s one obvious answer.”

Buffy glared at the witch. “Bring it on. But you know, do you think you’re the only one who’s mourning? The only one who-“

“You killed her, you bitch!” Willow snapped. “And I’m not even talking about the way you’ve destroyed everything since you got here. You’re why I couldn’t move her in time!”

“Oh. Oh, no,” Spike was murmuring, staring at the witch in horror.

“I told you!” she hissed. “I could’ve saved Riley if I’d known enough. And this time, I could have just teleported Tara away, too! I knew how! But you-“ She took a step forward. Buffy couldn’t step back, too frozen in horror and self-loathing at the sudden realization to budge. “You took the magic away! You let her die!” The others, too, were unable to move, looking from Buffy to Willow with confusion and dawning understanding.

“Both of us,” Spike said quietly. “Blame me, too.”

“I do,” Willow said coldly. “And once I avenge Tara, you’ll be next. And the rest of you! You let that bitch come in here, gave her all the freedom she had to make changes, turn Tara and Faith and all of you against me… Oh, everyone’s going to suffer.” She turned back to Buffy. “But don’t worry. Only one more person is going to die tonight.”

“Get Dawn out of here,” Faith muttered to Xander, too low for Willow to hear normally.

But normal really wasn’t in the equation anymore. Willow’s eyes darkened. “I said everyone!” she snapped, and the front door slammed closed on its own. “But first you.”

And Buffy was suddenly suspended in midair in a frenetic whirlwind of energy that slashed at her and tore at her clothes, her hair, her skin… “Don’t worry,” Willow said calmly in a voice that came through to her mind clearly, despite the raging sounds around her. “This isn’t the end yet. First, you’re going to suffer.”

Through the distorted air, Buffy caught sight of Spike launching himself at Willow, Faith right behind him. She batted them away like they were flies. “I’m not done,” she growled.

“No!” The desperate cry came from Xander as he tackled Willow from behind, hanging on to her with all his might as she tried to shrug him off. “Stop! Willow, listen to me!” But what he said next was swallowed up by a howl from Spike as he jumped at the maelstrom that encased Buffy, tugging at her arm with all his might until he, too, was trapped within it, gritting his teeth against the pain.

Then Xander moved, still holding on to Willow, to stand between her outstretched hand and the whirlwind, taking all the energy that was being thrown at Spike and Buffy. He flew backward as the two blondes safely landed on the ground in a bloody mess, just in time for Spike to catch Xander before he smashed into the wall behind them.

“Get your boyfriend out of here, vampire,” Willow said through clenched teeth. “I’m not going to kill you two.”

Faith stepped forward, Angel hot on her heels. “Well, you’re gonna have to kill all of us if you want to hurt Buffy,” she announced, her arms folded.

“Yeah!” Dawn hurried to help them stand in front of Buffy, and even Spike and Xander staggered forward to form the defensive line.

Willow’s lip curled. “Touching, really. But you forget-“ And then she was between them and Buffy, and had gathered up the slayer and disappeared, her last words hanging in the air. “-I don’t have any barriers!”

--

Anya sighed with relief as she finished the last of the hospital’s paperwork. With Willow wreaking havoc who knew where, she really didn’t want to be alone without her husband. Was he in danger? Who knew how far Willow might go?

As if it were in touch with her thoughts, her phone rang and she answered it hurriedly. “Xander! Are you- she what? Oh, no. But Buffy- Okay. Okay. I’m on my way.”

She left as quickly as she could, considering, and was eminently grateful that the hospital was only a few blocks from Faith’s place. It might take her longer than usual to get there, but at least she didn’t need to take a bus.

--

Buffy looked around worriedly. “Where…where’d you take me?” Can they find me here? It was dark and dank and did seem oddly familiar, and she was praying that they hadn’t left Sunnydale completely. They’d been moving from place to place for what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes as Willow had teleported everywhere from Revello Drive to the mansion on Crawford to an empty field to the Bronze, ostensibly trying to decide on a location. And now, it looked like she’d finally made her decision, but the dark energies in the room around them only served to concern Buffy even more.

Willow smirked. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember this place.” She muttered a spell and tendrils sprang out of the wall to chain Buffy against it. “We had so much fun here, back in the day. Classes and the library and oh? Did I not mention the Hellmouth?”

“The Hellmouth…” Buffy repeated weakly.

“Oh, yes.” Willow tapped a carved seal on the floor with her toe. “See, this is the Seal of Danzalthar, portal through which evil enters the world. I’ve done some research on it, and it’s pretty simple.” She held up a finger, counting off the steps. “First, I spill enough blood of yours on it to open the seal. Slayer blood. Shouldn’t take long. Then, I throw you inside.” She smiled smugly. “You know what’s down there? Armies and armies of vicious, disgusting vampires. The original kind, not our cute little human half-breeds. And they’re much harder to kill.” She cocked her head thoughtfully. “And I bet you can’t sleep with all of them before one bites your head off. Not unless you’re lickety-split, really quick.”

“Willow…” Buffy croaked. She didn’t know what kept her reasoning with the unreasonable. Some deep-rooted self-preservation instinct, perhaps? The possibility of seeing Spike again? The fact that Tara would have been so hurt if she’d known that Willow had killed Buffy?

Willow wasn’t impressed. “Shut up. I’m not done yet. You know how I’m going to make you bleed?” She pulled something out of her pocket. Buffy gaped. It was a tiny bullet. “So small, you know. Hard to believe that something this miniscule could destroy someone who was the world to me, you know? Hard to believe that it couldn’t have gotten rid of that annoyingly good slayer who went around trying to tell me what to do instead. Give up the magics! Buffy, I am the magics.”

“Don’t-“

Willow ignored her. “Now, let’s see how we’re going to do this.” She left the bullet hovering in midair. “I remember it perfectly, you know. The happy little family scene, then Warren runs in…“

A ghostly, Warren-like apparition came into being in front of them. “You think you can just do that to me?” it shouted. Willow mouthed the words as they came from the specter. “You think I’d let you get away with it? Well, think again!”

“And…” she squinted as she settled the real bullet in front of the apparition of the gun. “Right there.” She stretched out a hand to pull Buffy across the room to her spot in the illusion, a smoky Xander appearing right behind her. “It’s incorporeal, you know.” she said conversationally. “It won’t be able to save you from this bullet.”

Spike…Faith…Xander…Anya…Dawn…I love you all. Please, just let it be quick.

“And Tara, she was right here.” Willow frowned at the Tara-ghost. “No, that’s not right.”

“It really isn’t,” Tara said, but it wasn’t the Tara from Willow’s twisted replay. This Tara was at the other end of the room, seated in a wheelchair and looking weak and pale but bright-eyed as she was pushed in by Anya, followed by the rest of the Scoobies.

Willow froze. “Tara? No.” Her eyes darkened. “You’re not real! You’re gone!”

“I was,” the white witch said quietly. “But now I’m not. The bullet…it severed my spine. I shouldn’t even be out of the hospital yet. I might never walk again.”

“No, no, no!” Willow shook her head violently. “It’s a trick! Stop it!” Tears were flowing freely down her face. “Stop it!”

Silently, Anya wheeled her out to where Willow was standing, and Tara reached out to draw Willow into an awkward embrace. “This isn’t you, Willow,” she murmured. “You’ve gone so wrong…this isn’t you.”

Willow collapsed under her ex-lover’s calming words, falling limply to the floor while clutching Tara’s hand. “It’s not real! None of it’s real!” she sobbed. “Oh, it can’t be real!”

Buffy closed her eyes finally, allowing herself to collapse, too. Strong, cool hands caught her before she hit the ground, and she opened her eyes again to gaze into Spike’s loving eyes.

Willow turned to stare at her as the darkness finally receded, seeping out of her to the seal below. “Oh, god, Buffy! Buffy, I’m so sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t! I’m so sorry!” And then she was curled into herself at Tara’s feet, weeping uncontrollably.

Tara reached out to her to lay a hand on her head, and pure white magic glowed through her as it worked its way through her to her damaged love. Willow cried, and the magic healed, and the magic flowed from the two of them together, white from one, black from the other, until the light finally cleansed the dark and the blackness faded away.