Kindred Series


Kindred: (noun) A group of related persons, such as a family, clan, or tribe.
(adj.) Having a similar or related origin or nature.






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BOOK ONE
JOURNALS & JOURNEYS
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Prologue
Status Quo?

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Buffy took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and pushed open the door to the building that haunted her dreams of late. Unfortunately, this was not a dream and apparently there was no relief in waking up. This was the Sunnydale Asylum where Willow had spent the past 5 months in a more or less catatonic state. Although her brain activity was consistently higher than an average catatonic state would entail, her physical activity more closely resembled that of a comatose patient. The doctors, who had at first been very optimistic that Willow would make a full recovery in a matter of days, were at a loss what else to do at this point. For that matter though, Buffy had no idea what to do either.

By all rights, Willow should be in jail. Willow had taken a human life, after all. But then again, did she really want to go down the path of what should be? That road leads to thoughts of death…my death specifically, which I’ve already experienced in great detail… Painful choices, sacrifice, nothingness, peace – at long last, then resurrection, re-birth to a world of pain and horror, confusion, disorientation, a sense of loss and not belonging, numbness, despair, some really bad choices, more pain – not just mine, but others’ this time, and finally accepting that I was indeed back for good and deciding to embrace life again? Buffy shook her head to clear away those thoughts. Been there, bought the T-shirt, decided it didn’t fit after all. She’d finally gotten her life back together – kind of – and she didn’t really want to go back to that place again – with all the sadness and gloom and bad thoughts. Yuck, much!

So, she headed down the hallway to Willow’s room like she had done so for the past few months – three or four times every week. Along the way, she stopped by Dr. Lanningham’s office for an update. Nothing had changed. Willow was still non-responsive to all external stimuli. She was still being fed intravenously. Brain activity was slowly diminishing and this was their biggest concern at the moment. They were running out of ideas, new things to try. Perhaps if Buffy could tell them anything else about what had contributed to Willow’s current situation…anything that might give them some insight into how to help her? The doctor looked hopefully at Buffy, but was not surprised when the diminutive blond waif in front of him shook her head regretfully and headed down the hallway to visit her friend, who was – for all intents and purposes – lost to this world, with no real chance at recovery that the doctor could see.

Buffy wished she could tell the doctors what had really happened to Willow, and if it would have helped…she would do so in a heartbeat. But the doctors would only look at her like she was crazy, dismiss the facts as being nonsense, and probably admit her to a private room with padded walls. Not that she could blame them really. What did you do with a magick junkie who had overdosed one too many times, gone on the wagon, and then experienced a tragic personal loss which fomented a bender that had nearly brought about the apocalypse, and who was finally stopped only by the love of a childhood friend and a strong dose of true magick? Afterward, Willow had cried in Xander’s arms for hours until she finally passed out from sheer exhaustion. Xander had carried Willow to the Magic Box in the end, not knowing where else to turn. The shop was a wreck after the battle, so they had all ended up at Buffy’s house on Revello Drive. Willow had slept straight through for the next 3 days, while the rest of the Scoobies and Giles tried to straighten out the mess she had left behind. Andrew and Jonathan had left town. The damage to the police station and the raising of the temple were both blamed on the earthquake that conveniently left the rest of Sunnydale untouched. So, the police ended up being a non-issue. Warren had been totally immolated in the forest. No body, no evidence, therefore no crime – at least to the Sunnydale police, that is. Amazing how they could just ignore facts and rationalize things away.

Tara was dead. Warren was dead. Andrew and Jonathan were gone. Everyone else was okay and accounted for. Not everyone… No, don’t go there. Don’t think about him. Not right now. Focus on Willow. Only Willow was left to deal with…but who would handle that and how had still not been resolved during those first few days after the battle. None of them had really wanted to turn Willow over to the police, so the lack of charges had been a bit of a relief. Contacting the Watcher’s Council was definitely not the most appealing option. Those guys could be truly ruthless, and although Willow needed to be dealt with firmly and held accountable for the things she had done, she also deserved some compassion for the tragic circumstances that had brought about her complete breakdown. The Council had no interest in compassion. They would have viewed Willow as a threat to be neutralized and studied. No possibility of redemption or rehabilitation down that path. No, sirree. Giles had warned them right from the start that there was no guarantee that Willow could be rehabilitated or restored to her former self. Then Willow had woken up, but she had been totally unresponsive. They had taken her to the hospital, fearing dehydration among other things. The days there had become weeks. Doctors were consulted, tests were run, and in the end Willow had been remanded to long-term care at the asylum. And there she had remained all this time…not getting any better…slowly wasting away.

Half an hour later, Buffy emerged from Willow’s room, her face drawn and pinched. She managed to hold back the tears until she got outside the building. So intent was she on escape that she failed to notice the shadowy figure that slipped into Willow’s room surreptitiously closing the door. He was only in the room for a few minutes – just long enough to ascertain that something was very wrong with the girl he fondly referred to as “Red.” He emerged from her room wondering what the hell had been going on around here, shook his head and went in search of a nurse who could fill him in on the details of Willow’s condition.

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