Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Joss Whedon, so he gets all the money and stuff like that.
 
Thanks again to SanityFair for being the beta who is more betta than any other beta! And thanks to the readers who have patiently stuck with me as I continue to plod along through this story.
 
 
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Chapter 13
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“Would you like some more, pet?” Spike had managed to figure out boxed macaroni and cheese for lunch, continuing his streak of cooking successes, and Buffy seemed to be enjoying it.
 
“Yes, more,” she said, holding out her plate.
 
Spike served her another helping before returning to his own plate. She had wondered why he wasn’t eating, so he decided to join her in order to avoid difficult questions. It pleased him greatly to see a little color come back into her pale cheeks as she ate. After the latest storm of emotion, he had resorted to television again to help her relax. Giles was still in the living room, books and notes spread around him in a ring, searching for answers. He had called Wesley in LA, as well as some contacts in London, but they all seemed to be telling him the same thing: Very few people had ever been resurrected, and the results were almost uniformly bad. In nearly every recorded case the person had either killed themselves again or been institutionalized. He read one such tale in an old tome that described a woman circa 1850 who spent the remainder of her life locked in a cage in Bedlam after being resurrected by her grieving warlock husband. The few cases that did not involve the madhouse or the morgue were vague on details and referred to “lingering melancholia” and other mental effects. Now, he took off his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes, frustrated.
 
The phone rang, causing Buffy to jump and cringe. “Shh, just the telephone, pet,” Spike said, quickly wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Rupert? Can you grab that?”
 
“Yes, I’ve got it.” Giles got up, glad for the distraction. “Hello, Summers residence.”
 
“Giles, it’s Tara,” said the voice on the other end.
 
“Hello, Tara,” Giles replied. “What can I do for you?”
 
“Willow and I could really use some spare clothes, but we don’t want to come over and frighten Buffy,” Tara explained. “When Dawn gets home from school, can you have her pack up some more of our things and put them out on the front porch for us? I can come by around five and get them.”
 
“Yes, that will work,” Giles said. “Have you turned up anything new?”
 
“N-not really.” Tara chewed her lip, mindful of Willow in the next room. Truth be told, she wanted to share her concerns with Giles, but it would have to wait. “How about you?”
 
“Nothing encouraging,” Giles admitted. “But she has had a fairly good day so far. Only one serious meltdown today, and she has been talking a bit, so I suppose that’s a good sign.”
 
“Let’s hope so,” Tara said. “I’ll see you at five then.”
 
“We’ll look for you,” Giles replied. He rang off and moved through to the kitchen, where Buffy and Spike were finishing their lunch. “That was Tara. She’s going to come by later to pick up some more of their things. We can have Dawn leave them on the porch.”
 
“Good plan.” He turned to Buffy and asked, “All done?”
 
“Yes,” she replied, having practically eaten the design off the plate. Spike smiled and cleared off the table, putting everything in the sink to deal with later.
 
Giles studied her a moment from his post near the door. “I wonder if hypnosis would help her recover any of her memories,” he mused.
 
Spike mulled that over. “Might give us some clues on how to help her.” He found himself wishing he had Dru’s gift of thrall. That talent would come in handy about now. Could get into her mind without her even knowing it. He looked over at Buffy, who was fiddling idly with her empty glass. “Don’t want to frighten her though.”
 
“I suppose we could ask first,” Giles proposed.
 
Spike pondered this for a moment then sat down next to Buffy, taking her hands. “Buffy? Giles would like to try something, to help you remember things. It’s not magic, and it won’t hurt, but it might help you get some of your memories back. Do you want to try?”
 
Buffy looked at Giles nervously, then back at Spike. “W-won’t hurt? P-promise?”
 
“I promise you, it won’t hurt,” Giles said. “It’s called hypnosis. It’s a way for you to recover some of your past memories.”
 
“But we’ll only try it if you want us to,” Spike added, hoping she understood. “Do you want us to try?”
 
She searched Spike’s face, looking for any sign of deception, but found none. The angel won’t hurt me. He promised he wouldn’t. “I… I’ll try,” she said finally.
 
“Why don’t we go into the living room then,” Giles suggested. “I’m going to go see if Tara and Willow had any crystals in their room. Certain kinds can make this easier.” Giles headed off to Willow and Tara’s room while Spike led Buffy into the living room and got her settled on the couch. Giles returned with a clear blue crystal about the size of his fist. “This will serve. Are you ready for this Buffy?”
 
Buffy nodded, although she was visibly tense. “Try to relax, sweetheart,” Spike said. “This won’t hurt.” Buffy nodded again, and her shoulders lowered a fraction of an inch as she tried to take Spike’s advice.
 
“Buffy, I want you to look into this crystal and listen to my voice” Buffy obeyed as Giles continued in a low, smooth voice, “Try to breathe slow, and focus on the crystal.”
 
Buffy looked confused for a moment and looked to Spike for help. Spike touched the crystal and said, “Look straight at this, yeah? Listen to Giles and breathe – like this.” Despite his lack of a need for oxygen, he demonstrated deep, relaxing breathing until Buffy started copying him. He touched the crystal again, and Buffy turned her gaze to it, wrinkling her brow as she tried to concentrate.
 
“That’s it,” Giles said encouragingly. “Breathe in and out, and try to empty your mind. Think of nothing but the crystal.” Buffy relaxed a little more as her breathing became slow and regular. “I am going to count backward from fifty. When I reach zero, you will be completely relaxed. Fifty…forty-nine…” Giles kept counting while Buffy continued to relax and breathe. Spike stayed very still so as not to distract her and kept breathing as well, letting her hear the rhythm. At some point she closed her eyes but kept breathing, breathing. “Three… two… one,” Giles finished. Buffy sat erect, her eyes closed, her hands resting lightly on her legs. “Buffy? Can you hear me?” Giles asked quietly.
 
“Yes,” she answered. Her voice was soft but unhesitating.
 
“I want you to try to send your mind back to the past. Try to remember what happened before you woke up in the dark. Try to remember.”
 
Buffy cocked her head slightly, with her eyes still closed. “Glory. I was fighting her. Dawn… Dawn was bleeding. The portal was open. Couldn’t… let her die.”
 
Spike swallowed, thinking back on his role that night. Failed you, Slayer. I should have been able to save you. If I did my job, you wouldn’t have had to jump. Giles too had to repress a shudder thinking of the battle and its terrible outcome. “Do you remember what happened after that?” Giles asked.
 
“Had to jump,” Buffy said. “My blood, same as Dawn’s. Had to close the portal.” She paused and shuddered a little. “Pain. So much pain… in the portal. Then light. Light… on and on, forever. Mom was there. It was warm. I was… finished. I could rest, and I was… loved. Light and love, forever.” A small wistful smile appeared on her face as she remembered.
 
The two men looked at each other, both disturbed to hear that she had suffered. “Do you remember anything else?” Giles began. “Do you…”
 
“Falling,” Buffy said suddenly. Her brow wrinkled and the smile vanished. “Pulled away… from my mother. Like hands… grabbing. A woman’s voice… said to let her cross over.” Her voice got shakier as she continued, “I tried to fight it… stay there. But I couldn’t. W-woke up in the dark. Couldn’t… couldn’t breathe.” She started to breathe harder and harder, shaking her head again and again. “Demons, in the dark. There was blood… on my grave. And this… thing. Looked like me. Demons… t-tore it a-apart.”
 
“Giles, wake her up,” Spike said suddenly. “Don’t make her relive this. Wake her up for Christ’s sake.”
 
“Buffy!” Giles said. “I’m going to count to three, and when I snap my fingers you are going to wake up. One… two… three.” He snapped his fingers and Buffy’s eyes flew open. She looked around wildly at Spike and Giles.
 
“Remembered… dying,” she said, her voice a choked half sob. “Remembered the pain.”
 
“You remembered heaven too though,” Spike said, moving over to comfort her. “You remembered how you fought to save Dawn. You saved the whole world, pet. Bloody heroine, you are.”
 
“How?” she asked. “Saved the w-world?”
 
“You’re the Slayer, Buffy,” Giles put in. “You were chosen to fight the forces of darkness.”
 
“Chosen?” Buffy said, completely confused. Who forced me to do this?
 
“It’s complicated, pet,” Spike said. “You have… powers. Extra strength, fast healing. You can do things that other people can’t.”
 
Buffy shook her head. “Don’t want t-t-to be ch-chosen,” she said. “Still can’t… can’t remember. Don’t want to be… here. Please.” She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking slightly.
 
“Buffy,” Giles said. “I know that returning to life was not of your choosing. But there are no… no portals to send you back.”
 
“Why?” Buffy said plaintively. “Why… only remember… pain? Was there only pain? Before?” Was this all I ever knew? Pain, confusion, and fighting?
 
“No, love,” Spike said. “You had your mates and Dawn. You had love and dancing and joy. Sure, there was fighting, but you took pride in it. Cracked jokes the whole time. It wasn’t all pain before. Not by a long shot.”
 
Buffy bit her lip and kept shaking her head. I want to believe him. But why can’t I remember any of the good things? Nothing’s there. “Can’t remember,” she repeated sadly. “Can’t remember.”
 
“You will, Buffy,” Giles reassured her. “In time you will.” But even as he said it, he wondered if he was speaking a lie.
 
******************
 
Buffy lapsed into troubled silence again for a long time after the hypnosis session. She didn’t respond to Giles or Spike, and although she wasn’t crying or hysterical, she clearly wasn’t happy. She had curled up in the corner of the sofa, resting her head on the arm of the couch and staring out into the room. She barely flinched when Dawn came home with her usual slam of the kitchen door. “Hey everyone,” she said, coming into the living room. “How are things going?” Dawn noticed Buffy’s demeanor with dismay, having spent the day hoping things would improve while she was gone.
 
“Hello, Bit.” Spike followed Dawn’s gaze to her sister and explained, “We tried a little hypnosis on your sister. It helped her remember a bit, but unfortunately she mostly remembered the fight with Glory. Didn’t improve her mood much.”
 
Dawn came over and sat next to Buffy. “You remembered how you saved me? You wouldn’t let them throw me into the portal to close it. You sacrificed yourself for me. I missed you so much after that.” Dawn put her arm around Buffy and rested her head on her sister’s shoulder.
 
This simple act of love stirred Buffy to shift, tentatively putting her arm around Dawn in return. “Had to s-save you,” she said quietly.
 
“I still need you, Buffy,” Dawn said. “I need someone to take care of me. Keep me safe.”
 
Buffy clung to Dawn, saying nothing. Need to protect her still, she thought. But it hurts so much. The holes in her memory frightened and depressed her more than she could hope to put into words.
 
After a few minutes of watching the tableau of the two sisters clinging to each other, Giles broke the silence saying, “Tara called earlier. She wondered if you might pack up some more clothes for the two of them, so she could pick them up later.”
 
“She’s not coming in here, is she?” Dawn asked. Buffy drew back a little, nervous at the thought of the witches coming back.
 
“No,” Giles reassured her. “Tara seems to understand the situation. She just asked us to leave the clothes on the porch around five o’clock.”
 
“Fine. Just as long as she doesn’t come barging in here causing trouble,” Dawn said. She turned back to her sister. “Why don’t you come upstairs and have a bubble bath again? I think you liked that last time.”
 
Buffy looked uncertain, but Spike said, “Good idea, Bit. You go with Dawn, Buffy. She’ll take care of you.” Buffy got up and followed Dawn meekly up the stairs. Dawn ran her a bath and filled it with a large amount of rose scented bubbles. “I’m going to go get some stuff together for Tara. Do you need any help?” Dawn asked as she shut off the water.
 
“No,” Buffy said softly. When the door closed behind Dawn she undressed, sliding into the bubbles up to her neck and closing her eyes. Warm. Quiet. This is all I want. Her mind replayed the battle with Glory in its entirety. She remembered the fighting. I had a hammer and I hit her. And there were these… others, and I fought them too. And a demon that looked like a man. She remembered the others fighting with her, the red-haired witch, and the dark haired boy they called Xander. If they were fighting with me they were on my side. So why hurt me like this? Did I do something bad to them? Even with the restored memory of that night, she found she didn’t understand. She eventually gave up and let her mind go blank, zoning out while she soaked in the fragrant water.
 
Dawn went from the bathroom into the witches’ room. She found an empty duffle bag and began filling it with undergarments, jeans, and shirts. She had half a mind to pick out the most mismatched things she could find as some sort of punishment for Willow. Dawn was still torn between wanting her sister back more than anything in the world and feeling guilty because her sister was suffering, and Willow was behind it all. With a sigh, Dawn decided to forgo fashion revenge and just get the packing over with as soon as possible. Anything to keep Willow out of here for a few more days before she decides to turn Buffy into a frog or something.
 
Downstairs she found Spike in the kitchen, drinking a mug of blood with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Your sis okay?” he asked.
 
“She’s having a bubble bath, so I assume yes,” Dawn said, sitting down next to him.
 
“How was school then?” he asked. “Tell me all about the oppression of the youth today.” Spike found that he needed a momentary distraction from worrying about Buffy, and even the mind numbingly boring tale of a day at school was welcome.
 
Dawn chatted on for a long time about her classes, her performance on her algebra quiz, and the cute boy in her homeroom. Spike was making a mental note to find said boy and frighten him into never even looking at Dawn again when she suddenly asked, “What made you guys decide to try hypnosis on her?”
 
Spike sighed. “Just trying to help her remember. Guess it worked, but the memories weren’t good ones unfortunately.”
 
“I guess it’s progress,” Dawn said. “Maybe if you did it some more she’d remember some of the good stuff as well.”
 
“It’s possible, but it’s gonna take time, and cooperation from her. If she’s too badly freaked out by the memories she might not let us try again,” Spike said shrugging dejectedly and taking another drink.
 
Dawn was about to answer when there was a light tap at the back door. She looked up to see Tara and realized she hadn’t actually put Tara’s things outside like she was supposed to. She went and opened the door and said, “Hey Tara. I got your things together like you asked.”
 
“Thanks,” Tara said, taking the bag. Looking around she said, “How’s Buffy doing?”
 
“She’s upstairs, taking a bubble bath,” Dawn replied. “Do you want to come in for a moment?”
 
“No, I don’t want her to come downstairs and get scared,” Tara said. She hesitated for a moment, then added, “Is Giles available? I… I’d like to talk to him. Out here on the porch if it’s okay.”
 
“Sure, he’s just doing research in the dining room.” Dawn walked through to the other room and said, “Giles? Tara’s here, and she wants to talk to you.”
 
Giles looked up from his books. “I’m sorry?” He had been utterly engrossed in a book about alternative hypnosis methods.
 
“Tara’s here on the porch. She wants to talk to you.” Dawn repeated.
 
Giles was a bit surprised, as Willow tended to do most of the talking in their relationship. He got up and made his way out to the porch. “Tara, what can I do for you?” he asked politely.
 
“Hey Giles, I um…” Tara was suddenly wondering if she was perhaps overreacting. No, you’re not, she told herself firmly. Willow’s losing control. Screwing up her courage she said, “I think Willow n-needs help.”
 
“What do you mean?” Giles wondered. He sat down on the steps and motioned for Tara to join him.
 
“I… I think she’s planning to do some type of spell on Buffy,” Tara said. “We had a big argument today. She keeps saying she can fix Buffy, and keeps coming up with lists of spells that she could try. I told her I wouldn’t let her do that, and she said she wouldn’t do any magic for a whole week but… Giles, I don’t believe her!”
 
“Now, calm down, Tara,” Giles said. He had truly never seen the blonde witch so upset. “What sort of spells is Willow considering?”
 
“Everything,” Tara said miserably. “Knock her out, try to fix the amnesia, do one spell then another and another. She just won’t accept that maybe the best thing to do is to let Buffy come out of this gradually.”
 
“I’m beginning to be of that mind as well,” Giles said. “We tried some light hypnosis on her earlier, but it only managed to bring back the memories of the battle with Glory and her… death.” The word was so hard to say, even now.
 
“Giles, I really think you should put some sort of ward spell on the house,” Tara said. “I know she said she wouldn’t do anything, but I see so much… so much darkness in her, since the resurrection spell. I don’t know if she can stop herself.”
 
Giles leaned back against the railing, looking up at the sky as if it would provide guidance. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said at last with a heavy sigh. “Maybe if she tries a few spells and they don’t work she’ll back off a bit and listen to reason.”
 
“Do you have the necessary things to do a spell like that?” Tara asked.
 
“Yes, I should have everything, if I can borrow a few supplies from your room,” Giles answered.
 
“Please do,” Tara said gratefully. She stood up and picked up her bag of clothes. “Thanks, Giles. I hate to go behind her back like this, but I just…”
 
“It’s alright,” Giles said, standing up as well. “If you have any other concerns, please don’t hesitate to call. Any time, day or night.”
 
“Thank you,” said Tara once more. “I’d better get back to the Magic Box and see what’s happening. I’ll talk to you soon.”
 
Giles waved goodbye and went back inside, shutting the door behind him. “Who the hell does Red think she is?” Spike growled.
 
Giles turned to face the clearly seething vampire. “Eavesdropping were you?”
 
“Vampire hearing, mate,” Spike explained. “Don’t need to eavesdrop – could hear every word. Sounds like you’d better get that ward spell up sooner rather than later. Because if Willow hurts her again I may not be responsible for my actions.” His voice lowered to a near growl, and his eyes flashed gold for a moment.
 
“Despite your recent assistance, I will not tolerate you threatening any of our number,” Giles said sternly.
 
Spike stood up and advanced until he was nearly toe-to-toe with the taller man. “Now you listen, Rupert,” he hissed. “With this chip in my head I can’t give Red the thrashing she richly deserves. But if she hurts Buffy, or frightens her any further, I am holding you personally responsible. You are her Watcher. So you’d better watch out for her.” He turned and stormed out of the kitchen battling fiercely to keep his temper in control.
 
Giles stared at the retreating back of the vampire, frowning. “I wonder if he is as safe as he claims to be,” he murmured doubtfully.
 
“You leave him alone,” Dawn cried. She had come downstairs after checking on Buffy and caught the whole exchange between Spike and Giles. “He’s right. You need to protect Buffy and stop Willow. Spike isn’t the one jerking her around, and he hasn’t hurt anyone other than demons for ages.”
 
“I understand that, Dawn, but he is still a vampire and—”
 
“And I don’t care!” Dawn interrupted. “He helps Buffy and he helps me. So do your… whatever… protection spell and leave Spike alone.”
 
Giles was completely taken aback by the ferocity of this petite teenager and decided he was beaten for now. “Alright, Dawn. Don’t upset yourself. I will put up the wards, and we will go from there. But I will not tolerate violence from Spike.”
 
“Worry more about violence from me,” Dawn said. “I don’t have a chip.” Dawn in turn stalked out of the room, leaving a flabbergasted Giles in her wake.
 
*********************
 
Willow was fuming behind her calm exterior. The whole day she felt like Tara was watching her like a child next to a full cookie jar, waiting to see if she would put her hand in. Anya had made the occasional comment as well about getting burnt out from so many spells, and it made Willow want to turn them all into giraffes or some other silent animal. To top it off, the store had gotten extremely busy in the late afternoon, and Willow was obliged to help Anya with customers while Tara went off to collect their things. Tara returned just as Anya was flipping the “Closed” sign on the door prior to collapsing into a chair, exhausted.
 
“I’m back, bearing clothing,” Tara said. “Did it stay busy?”
 
“Is there a full moon tonight?” Anya whined. “I mean why did everyone in the free world need herbs and spell books today? Not that I mind the profits, but spread it out a little!” With an effort she got up to go start counting up the money.
 
“How are things at Buffy’s?” Willow inquired.
 
“Buffy was taking a bubble bath when I was there, so I guess things are reasonably calm,” Tara answered.
 
“So we don’t know if she’s talking more or anything?” Anya asked.
 
“I… didn’t stay very long,” Tara said, trying to hide her guilt about going behind Willow’s back.
 
Willow wondered what Tara was nervous about, but decided not to pursue it. Her overwhelming urge was to get back to the hotel and make this whole long tense afternoon go away. She was about to suggest that they leave when the bell rang and Xander came in. “Hey ladies,” he said. “I come bearing Chinese, in the long standing tradition of men bringing home dead animals.” He held up two large bags of take-out.
 
“Clearly you have done mighty battle, honey,” Anya said, giving him a peck on the cheek and relieving him of one of the bags. “Do you two want to join us? There’s enough food here for a football team.”
 
“I’d love to,” Tara said. “I’m starving!” It was true that she was hungry, but she also felt uneasy and wanted to put off being alone with Willow for as long as possible. She wasn’t used to feeling like she couldn’t trust Willow. It frightened her and depressed her, and she wasn’t sure what to do about it, so the idea of procrastinating over kung pao chicken sounded like a good plan.
 
“Thanks, Xander,” Willow said with a forced smile. “I could do with a little dinner.” She swallowed her irritation and sat down, reaching for the fried rice.
 
“Any advances on the research front?” Xander asked.
 
“Not as such,” Willow said slowly. She had actually found a number of spells that could most likely bring Buffy’s memory back, if they would only let her try them. However, in the interest of keeping the peace she said, “I found some potential leads on spells that might help, but nothing definite.”
 
“Well, that’s probably a good thing,” Anya said around a mouthful of food. “Giles wants you to give her a break for a few days anyway.”
 
“And you said you wouldn’t do any spells for a week,” Tara said quietly. She glanced up at Willow, searching her face to watching her response.
 
Willow swallowed a mouthful of food. “Oh yeah,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I know. I was just trying to get some ideas. You know, in case she doesn’t snap out of it in the next week.”
 
“Sounds like a plan,” Xander said, helping himself to seconds. Tara wasn’t convinced but looked back down at her food, avoiding Willow’s gaze.
 
The rest of the meal passed in idle chit-chat, with Xander talking about his day at work, and Anya discussing some of her big sales. Tara and Willow contributed little to the conversation, each lost in her own thoughts. When the meal finally ended, Xander offered them a ride back to the hotel, which they accepted.
 
“How long do they intend to kick you out of the house for?” Xander asked as they drove.
 
“No idea,” Willow said with a shrug. “It seems like Spike and Giles are calling the shots, and they haven’t given us a time frame.”
 
“I guess it isn’t technically your house,” Anya observed.
 
“But we were taking care of Dawn all summer!” Willow protested. “I would think that counts for something.”
 
“It’s just temporary,” Tara soothed. “We won’t die if we have to spend a week at a hotel.”
 
“I know,” Willow replied. “I just don’t think it’s really necessary.”
 
“Let’s not get into this again,” Tara pleaded. “Let’s just go to the hotel and get some sleep, alright?” They all lapsed into silence for the rest of the drive. At the hotel, Tara and Willow said goodbye and walked into the hotel, still not speaking. Inside the hotel room Tara dropped the bag on a chair and sat down on the bed, looking down at the floor.
 
“Tara?” Willow said after she put down her things. “Are you okay?”
 
“I don’t know,” Tara said miserably. Willow sat down next to her and put her head on Tara’s shoulder. For a moment neither of them said anything. Then Tara said, “I don’t know if this is going to work.”
 
“What do you mean?” Willow said, sitting up in alarm. “Tara, I love you.”
 
“I know. I love you too. But the magic is starting to change you Willow. It’s just… I was reading about these resurrection spells. They’re so much more dangerous than you told me. This is really on the edge of some very black magic, and it scares me. I don’t want to see you turn into someone else.” Tara looked at Willow, her blue eyes radiating love and concern.
 
“Tara, sweetie, it’s okay,” Willow assured her. “I’m in control, and I’m being very careful.”
 
“These forces can hurt you even if you think you’re in control,” Tara insisted.
 
“I get it that you’re worried,” Willow said. “But like I said, I won’t do magic for a week. It’ll be no sweat. You’ll see – I’ve got it all under control.”
 
“Go a week, and we’ll see,” Tara said. She got up, rummaged in her bag for a pair of pajamas, and went into the bathroom. The second the door was closed, Willow dived into her own bag for some Lethe’s bramble. She concentrated on Tara and the arguments of the day. Once more she said, “Forget.” In the bathroom, Tara looked up into the mirror after brushing her teeth. A little shudder went through her and she smiled. She walked out of the bathroom to find Willow stretched out on the bed, turning on the TV. “Hey, is there anything good on?” Tara asked, climbing in beside her.
 
“I think Thelma and Louise is on the movie channel,” Willow replied.
 
Tara snuggled next to Willow. “Nothing like a chick flick with my favorite chick,” she said. Willow put her arm around Tara, a secret smile on her lips.
 
TBC