chapter 36 – bitter

Dawn stood up and wiped the chalk dust from her knees as she examined her handiwork. The living room had a new look. Xander and Giles had moved the furniture, leaving a large section near the bay windows bare. Next, they’d pulled up the rugs. Then Dawn gave Anya, Xander and Giles a piece of red chalk and a handful of herbs and they each knelt on the floor and drew their section of the pentagram.

Dawn hesitated for a moment, rolling her stub of chalk between her fingertips. She thought about telling them to stop. Haven’t we had enough bad luck casting spells? Instead she dropped to her knees and set about her task. After a while, she got wrapped up in drawing her lines more perfectly than Anya’s lines and finishing her section before Xander finished his.

“You think this will work?” Xander said to no one in particular as he rose to his knees and surveyed his section.

“It will work,” said Anya and Dawn together.

Dawn narrowed her eyes at Anya, suspicious of the Vengeance demon's motives while expecting her to let Luke in the front door at any minute. Although that didn’t make sense. If Anya had come this far, risking her life to help Buffy, chances were she was telling the truth about not being under Luke's control. Still, Dawn kept a wary eye on her.

“I believe we have it right,” asserted Giles, giving his two sections of the pentagram a final inspection. “But we’d better get on with it before we lose anymore time.” Standing up, he brushed the dust from his pant legs. “Where’s the book?”

“I’ll get it,” said Dawn. Her bare feet thumped across the hard wood floors as she raced into the living room. She returned quickly, holding the book firmly in her hands.

“Who should read the passage?” said Xander.

“It has to be Dawn,” Anya replied. “Her voice is the one that will reach the Powers That Be.”

“I’m also the only voice that Spike will hear.” Dawn opened the book to the page Giles had marked. The passage was in English. She had sighed with relief when she’d seen that. Spells were usually in Latin or some other demon tongue. This time they’d all understand what was being said. There’d be no Willow mumbo jumbo to sort out later.

Dawn glanced around the room and breathed in deeply before opening her mouth to begin.

“What are we doing again?” Xander interrupted her.

She rolled her eyes. “We’re calling upon the Powers That Be and the First Witch of Glory’s universe. We are beseeching them to give Spike the power to save Buffy.” Dawn repeated flatly. The four of them had agreed an hour before that it was the best wording to get what they wanted—Buffy back home safe and sound.

“You sure we're asking for enough?” Xander sounded shaky.

“We can only ask for one thing and that has to be to save Buffy,” explained Giles. “It has to be enough.”

Dawn began the passage without interruption, but as she spoke, a thought crept into her mind. Why hadn’t they given Buffy the power to save herself? She was the slayer. There was no thought spell to get in the way of her acting like the slayer, not anymore. Someone should have thought about that. Who's idea was this spell anyway she wondered, still reading from the book.

Dawn thought back to the scene in the kitchen an hour before. The four of them had worked out a plan. Xander had found the herbs in Willow and Tara's room, Giles had the Zy Qasdor, Volume IV, buried in his knapsack. And Dawn had picked up the chalk herself. Then she remembered Anya. She'd stood giving directions about drawing the pentagram. Giles had said it had been Anya's idea to give Spike the power boost. She'd showed up at his apartment with the solution for saving the day.

She'd better be right about this, thought Dawn, or the Key was going to be really mad.

Dawn said the last word and let out a loud sigh. They all stood in their spots, waiting.

"Anya?" asked Dawn. "What happens now?"

"Just wait," she answered. "You will see."

The pentagram began glowing scarlet red and a flickering gold light sparkled from the five points. Smoke rose from the center of the star and a towering cone-shaped flame burst through the floor. The room shook violently throwing Dawn and the others into the wall. Dawn fell flat on her stomach and tried to grab onto Xander as the room rocked.

“Don’t be afraid.” Giles shouted over the noise.

Dawn started to nod okay, but the room was shaking too hard. As she rolled across the floor, reaching for anything to hang on to, she wondered if this would have happened if she’d said what she was thinking before.

Hadn’t the Scoobies had enough bad luck casting spells?

_____________________________

Falling through universes filled with thunder and storming black clouds, she’d had a rough time keeping her wits about her. She'd been spinning from one realm to the next and back again, her body pulled apart and tossed back together as if she was a yo-yo. Time kept passing with no stars or moons and after a while, she forgot what she’d been searching for. Then she forced her mind to focus on one thought.

I want to go home.

But the world kept spinning and she forgot again.

Then finally, it was still.

Tara blinked her eyes open. She wasn’t in the dark anymore. The black clouds were gone and the thunder was silent. She lifted her arms over her head, stretching them long and taunt, feeling the muscles from her shoulders to her fingertips. She moved her hands through her hair and lifted the wet strands from her face and neck, letting the cool wind soothe her burning skin. Glancing down, she saw that her old clothes were gone. A long black robe covered her body, but her feet were bare. Tara wiggled her toes and smiled. The grass tickled.

“Grass?” She looked around.

Tara was standing in the middle of a park. There were rows of green bushes and yellow roses on the horizon. A wooden bench was fifty feet away and across from it an iron gate circled a playground. There was a swing set, monkey bars, sliding board and a sand pit. The grass needed cutting and the gate was ajar. Raising her eyes, Tara saw the blue sky above dotted with puffy white clouds. And the largest, brightest sun she’d ever seen was falling over the edge of the world.

It was beautiful, she thought, except it wasn’t home.

Tara collapsed to the ground. This was Willow’s world. She could smell it, the place where hell and a deeper hell met. Willow was ruler here. It was where she was never wrong and her loved ones died if they tried to change her.

Tara curled her body into a tight ball and cried. They’d loved each other once, desperately and passionately. Then the magic took over. It drained Willow’s soul and left Tara empty. She’d been a confident woman before the thought spell, filled with purpose and conviction. But Willow had taken that away from her.

Tara rose to her knees, brushing the hair from her eyes. She never had Willow’s power. Never would. Never wanted it. But Willow let Luke and Jacob kill her, smash her brains into bits and pieces, and banish her soul into nothingness.

It had been a long time since Tara had wanted something for herself. Only a few months ago, she wouldn’t have worried about summoning the magics. She’d figure out what she needed and do it.

Images she'd seen on a photograph entered her head, reminding her of Jacob’s apartment in New York. There'd been a room at the top of the stairs, the scent of jasmine and a mahogany dresser. On it sat a photograph of Jacob, Luke and Darla. She’d hidden the photo in her pocket, thinking it was a clue for Willow. It would help her lover beat Luke and save the day.

Tara groaned as she realized the truth. Luke wasn’t Willow’s enemy. He was an insane murderer with supernatural powers, but he was only a vampire—just a vampire with a few tricks. Like Dracula. That’s all. She’d seen his face in the photo, the expression in his eyes, the way Darla’s eyes blazed passionately at him as her hand rested gently on top of Jacob’s bowed head. They had been Darla’s pets, her lovers and her fiends. This was the big secret that Jacob killed her to protect. Why else had he attacked Tara so viciously? Why’d he risk Willow’s wraith? He knew the spell had taken away Willow’s ability to love, stolen Tara from Willow’s soul.

“That’s it.” Tara said out loud. Although the thought spell was gone, Willow had absorbed too much power to remember who she really was. That explained why in the distance Tara could see Willow and Jacob hurting Buffy.

“I’m a smart witch," said Tara's determined voice. “I know how to make Willow remember that she doesn’t have to kill. There are no sacrifices she needs to make for power.”

Tara got to her feet and pulled the robe snuggly around her shoulders. She had to come up with the biggest dose of magic she’d ever come up with ever.

She could do it though. She really believed she could.

____________________________________

Jacob was holding her as she stared at Dawn and Spike, lying on the ground, motionless. The only thing keeping her from losing it completely was the sound of Dawn’s moans—and the sight of Spike’s body. It wasn’t dust.

"You bitch!” Buffy pushed Jacob’s hands aside and ran full steam at Willow, tackling her around the waist. They both hit the ground hard and rolled as Buffy smashed Willow in the face, her fists flying. Twisting so that she was on top, Buffy clamped down on Willow’s throat. A flurry of punches smashed the witch’s face and the sound of bones crushing made Buffy cringe.

Willow’s eyes closed and her lips parted. Her face changed into an expression Buffy had seen often over the years. Blissful Willow in repose, nestled against the cushions of the living room sofa. Buffy missed that girl, her lost best friend. Reaching up, Buffy touched the warm tears falling from her eyes. She wiped them roughly away. She had to let her heart harden to the sight of Willow’s dead body. It was the only way to finish what she'd started.

Then something grabbed her wrists. Her arms were pulled behind her and thick fingers wrapped around her throat.

“Foolish Slayer.”

Buffy looked up and her mouth fell open. Willow was sitting on a park bench, legs crossed, hands folded neatly in her lap. Gloating.

“You think that’s all it takes to kill me, Slayer?” Willow teased.

“I can dream.” Buffy replied.

A stiff hand reached between her legs. She kicked and flailed until it let go.

“Sorry,” whispered Jacob into her ear. “Got carried away.” His fat tongue slid across the side of her face. “Vampire mind gets confused. Can’t remember whether to fuck or kill.” Laughing, he tightened his grip on Buffy’s neck.

“What are you waiting for?” she muttered. “How long are you going to play with me?”

“As long as we fucking like.” Jacob tied her wrists with magic rope and dragged her to a pole in the middle of the playground.

“You know the old saying.” Willow shouted from the bench. “Got a slayer. Got to sacrifice her.”

“Never heard that one before.” Buffy bit her lip, wanting the pain in her mouth instead of the rope cutting into her wrists.

“At first I thought it was Dawn,” Willow half-laughed. “But you’re the gift for Shemhazi.”

“How’s that?” Buffy's eyes were peeled, searching the park, looking out for Jacob, hoping for an opening.

“Too bad Luke figured it out too late.” Willow brought her fingers to her lips thoughtfully. “Maybe, that’s why Spike beat him.”

“Spike beat him?”

Willow didn’t respond. She was staring past Buffy at Jacob. “It’s time to call him.”

"Okay," said Jacob. "He's been called."

The sun disappeared and rain poured from the sky in sheets. Tied to the pole, Buffy watched as Willow rose from the bench and floated above a sudden sea of mud. Then Buffy felt fingers untying the rope and releasing her wrists.

“What now?” she wondered almost hopelessly.

“You die,” said Jacob.

The first blow knocked her into a pool of black water. The warm mud covered her as she sunk to the bottom of the pit. The next thing she felt was Jacob's meaty hand holding her head beneath the water. She struggled, her hands striking at his body, her bare legs kicking blindly as the water burned her skin. Nothing was stopping Jacob though. He pushed her face deeper into the mud.

Buffy gagged. Maybe she could throw Jacob off balance long enough to get to her knees. From there, she could grab his hands and knock him away for a few seconds. Then she’d go after Willow. She had to get to Willow, except she was gulping in mouthfuls of water and it was filling her lungs.

Buffy panicked. She’d drowned once. She didn’t want to drown again.

Then Jacob cried out and released his grip on her neck.

Buffy flipped into a squat and wiped her eyes. Looking around, she could see Jacob through the thick rain lying on the ground, but he wasn’t alone. He was wrestling with Spike. She wiped her eyes again. Wasn’t Spike lying on the ground with Dawn on the other side of the playground? She turned her head to the right. There he was, lying on the ground next to Dawn.

Two Spikes? Buffy shook her head. That wasn’t right.

The rain pounded the ground and the mud rose higher as Buffy tried to figure out if she'd lost her mind. Or, maybe Jacob had drowned her and she was in an alternative universe. No, that couldn't be it. She searched for Willow as the thunder cracked. It was so loud she thought the sky had broken in half.

Blinking the water from her eyes, Buffy spotted Willow balancing on the top of the monkey bars and dancing across the beams. If she could get to her feet, she kept thinking.

“You’re not going to kill me.” Buffy stood up in the mud. “The illusion is over. I know Dawn is not dead.” She pointed to Dawn’s body as it vanished. “And there is only one Spike and he’s kicking Jacob’s ass.” She spun toward Jacob and Spike. They were throwing punches and chomping chunks of flesh from each other's bodies.

Buffy leapt from the mud pit as Willow’s body lowered to the ground.

"You and me, huh?” shouted Willow.

“That’s right,” said Buffy.

"No! Stop!"

The voice wasn’t Willow’s or Jacob’s or Spike’s. Buffy turned and saw Tara at the top of the sliding board. She was wearing a black robe and her hair was blowing in the wind like one of America’s Top Models. Only difference was that her skin was white pale and her eyes were huge black orbs.

“Tara!” Willow screeched. “You’re alive!"

“No thanks to you, Willow,” said Tara. “You insane, fucking bitch.”

to be continued...