Mbwa Mwitu

Chapter Summary: The group finds shelter. Willow and Xander go to get medical supplies and tell Giles the bad news.


Xander felt something inside fight to get free. He knew it was his emotions, for at the moment he had control over them. He refused to cry over Buffy's death. It wasn't that he was glad, that was as far from the truth as a person could get. Xander just couldn't bring himself to deal with the effects of one of his best friends dying, especially after escaping the Initiative.

Xander took a deep breath, once again caught off guard by the lack of scent accompanied by the action. He leaned against the cool wall, glancing up as Spike walked over. Spike plopped down next him, body immediately leaning toward him. With a smile that was far from real, Xander slipped his hand into Spike's. "Does it ever seem odd how these abandoned houses just magically appear when we need one?"

"Just lucky, I suppose." Spike replied with a shrug. There was a pause. "Willow wants to go let the Watcher know about Buffy."

"I should go with her." Xander said, almost nervously. A small part of him, the part that had surrounded itself with pack and not his former makeshift family, didn't feel it was his right. To tell the only man to truly be like a father that his surrogate daughter had been killed. Murdered, but not by a demon like all the other Slayers. Murdered by a human, with a gun.

"I wish you wouldn't." Spike said, honestly. Spike didn't look at Xander. Instead he focused on Tara, who was once again curled up around Oz. The others were equally distributed around the small building. Spike ignored them and listened to Tara's soft cries.

"Are you planning on telling me what happened?" Xander asked.

"It's her choice." Spike said, after a pause. "I can't make her tell you. Just like I can't make you tell me what happened down there."

"Can we wait to have this conversation?" Xander rubbed his face tiredly. "I don't... I don't know what to feel right now, Spike." Xander forced himself to his feet, wincing as his stitches pulled. He glanced across the room, were Willow was cradling a dead Buffy's head in her lap. Xander bit his lip, his hand bunching into fists.

"Pet?" Spike asked softly, standing as well. He reached out to touch Xander's shoulder, but was immediately brushed off. Xander turned toward him, pushing him away gently. Spike back connected with the wall, causing him to cringe as he felt the bullets still buried in in back shift.

"What's wrong?" Xander suddenly asked.

"I got shot, is all." Spike replied. "We'll take care of it when we get out of here."

"I'm sorry." Xander whispered. He turned back around, eyes landing once again on Buffy's body. A choked sob fought its way past his throat.

Across the room, Willow looked over with tear stained eyes. She watched as Xander turned on his heel and stormed out of the small building, hand covering his face. Her chin wobbled slightly as her eyes threatened to tear up again once more. She looked down at Buffy, whose eyes were still open. Gently, Willow lifted Buffy's head off her lap and set it on the floor. She sent Spike a steady look. Spike frowned slightly, but nodded. Standing, she followed Xander outside.

"Xan?" Willow asked, her voice timid.

"This is all my fault." Xander's voice cracked. Willow walked around the building until she found Xander curled up against a corner. His hands dangled from where they rested at his knees. The knuckles looked bloody, telling Willow that he had most likely punched the wall.

"It's not your fault, Xander." Willow said, softly. She sat down next to him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders.

"I feel like it is. I just don't understand how this happened." Xander replied, wiping at his eyes. He leaned his head back, letting it hit the wall behind him. A soft sigh escaped him. "We have to tell Giles."

"I know." Willow agreed.

"We should get it over with." Xander muttered, before laughing bitterly. "Listen to me. Get it over with? I act as though it's a simple task. Oh, God..." Xander's breath caught in his throat and Willow found her self fighting back tears as Xander spoke next. "Buffy's dead."

"She is." Willow whispered.

"How can she die? She's not suppose to die." Xander insisted. "We're all suppose to grow old together. You're suppose to become some sort of computer genius, making loads of money. Buffy will be the oldest Slayer ever, at the age of 85, still kicking vampire ass. I'm..."

"You're what, Xander?" Willow asked, her voice hitching.

"I'm suppose to be the one there, to lend a helping hand and protect my girls." Xander finally said. Willow's arms tightening around him and Xander once again found himself breaking into tears.

*****

Xander folded the small piece of paper in his hands, before unfolding it and glancing at the words written upon it. Knowing how emotionally straining this job would be, Doyle had made certain to write down all of the medical supplies they needed for the day. Once night fell, they would get back to L.A., while Willow stayed with Giles. Hopefully, the Initiative would be in enough discord that they would not be followed.

Xander folded the piece of paper once more and glanced at Willow. Her skin looked pale, far too pale. Gulping, she glanced over at him before lightly knocking on Giles' door. It seemed absurd, knocking on his door. But the comedy that came with barging in on any other day was inappropriete.

Xander ripped the paper's edge nervously, before stuffing it into his pants so he didn't destroy it further. He glanced up as the door opened, revealing a frazzled looking Giles. It seemed that he hadn't slept at all that night. Behind his wire-rimmed glasses, a set of green eyes widened. Xander suddenly found himself being yanked forward into a hard hug.

"Can't breathe." Xander said in a strangled voice.

"Oh, thank heaven." Giles said, dragging the two of them inside. "I thought something had happened. I was--" Giles cut himself off as the door closed behind Willow. Giles' eyes darted between the two, before a small frown played at his mouth. "Where's Buffy?"

"She..." Willow trailed off.

"We're sorry, Giles." Xander managed to say. "She... It shouldn't have happened."

"What?" Giles demanded. "What happened?"

"Buffy's dead." Willow whispered.

Giles' mouth opened in preparation to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, the older man shook his head and walked over to the sofa. Xander cringed as Giles dropped into it's soft seating. The man looked lost, as though he didn't know how to react. Xander understood completely, for his mind was still reeling with confusion.

Mutely, Xander walked over and sat down next to Giles. He didn't glance over or acknowledge Xander's presence, but Xander felt better being next to him all the same. The part of him that he would always associate with the hyena urged him to return to his mate, to make sure that Spike was safe and to remove the foreign metal that resided in the vampire's back. Xander felt momentarily furious with the vampire. Spike should have told him he was injured from the beginning!

With a deep breath, Xander forced himself to calm down. Now wasn't a time to get angry, especially when his lack of scent left him vulnerable to any sort of attack. He briefly wondered what had happened to Tara, knowing that his inability to smell was the reason he had yet to figure that mystery out. While the witch was dressed oddly, Xander wasn't sure what to make of it. After all, that could have been due to some sort of struggle.

"Where's the body?" Giles' sad voice asked, catching Xander off guard. Giles sounded far too calm, a discreet sign that he would most likely wait until he was alone to have his emotional breakdown.

"We had to take refuge in this old shack." Willow informed him, her voice breaking. "She's there."

"Very well." Giles nodded. "Take me to her."

"Umm, Giles." Xander said, standing and digging the paper out of his pocket. "We also need some supplies. Oz and Wesley are injured... And the other's aren't looking too good."

"Indeed." Giles stood, taking the list from Xander's hand. "I'll just... I'll be a moment. I need to call Joyce."

Xander felt his stomach sink to the floor at those words. Joyce. Why hadn't they thought of her yet? The woman's daughter was now dead. Xander closed his eyes and fought himself to control his breathing. He reopened them, watching as Giles left the room. He glanced at Willow.

"I should get going." He said the moment he caught sight of the tears cascading down her cheek.

"What?" Willow asked, shocked. "Xander-"

"I can't, Willow." Xander interrupted, his voice on the verge of begging. "Please."

"...Okay, Xander." Willow said, softly.

Xander felt as though he couldn't get out of there fast enough. He literally flew out of the apartment, his feet hitting the asphalt of the road within seconds. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Xander glanced around him. The street was deserted, which was actually pretty normal for Giles' neighborhood.

Xander shifted on his feet, before turning toward the direction of his own apartment. He was still naked underneath Angel's coat, after all. The indecency of it hadn't actually hit him until he was standing there, in full public view.

He quickly made his way toward the apartment. He ignored the landlady's son, Reginald, in the front hall, who was sneering at him as usual. As Xander waited for the elevator, he heard the sounds of Nine Inch Nail's Closer coming from Mrs. Galloway's office. Shaking his head at the strange woman, Xander stepped onto the elevator.

Once upstairs, he grabbed a suitcase and began piling Spike and his clothes inside, along with anything else that may be needed. He grabbed a couple of weapons and stuffed them into the overflowing bag, before zipping it closed. He dragged it into the living room, wincing as it tugged at his stitches. With a sigh, Xander glanced down at himself. No time for a shower, but he should at least get dressed.

After pulling on a pair of khakis and a loose t-shirt, he went to the hall closet and grabbed the two bags Tara and Oz had left there when they had decided to move in. Once this was all collected, Xander went to the kitchen and packed a bit of food, knowing the others would probably be hungry. He glanced at the clock and figured that Giles was probably on his way to the shack by now.

It took a lot of work, but he finally managed to get a descent hold on all of the bags and make his way to the elevator. He exited the elevator to find Reginald dancing to the music in his head. When the man caught sight of him, he stiffened and directed a dark look in his direction. Xander ignored him, wincing once more as his stitches pulled. He knew he would be able to make it to the shed without ripping them, though he would be worn out. Sending one last glance at a scowling Reginald, Xander stepped out onto the street and began walking.

*****

Tara glanced up from her position on the floor, were she was keeping a steady eye on Oz's status. She accepted the bundle of clothing Xander handed her with a slight smile. Casting Oz one last look, she walked into the tiny room adjacent to change. As she removed her skirt, she had to force her eyes away from the bruise that lined her hip, in the shape of a large hand.

Eyes clenched, so she would not have to see her body, Tara quickly changed. She could hear the soft murmurs in the other room. Giles had arrived some time ago and the night was beginning to fall. Buffy was wrapped in a soft blue sheet and would be taken to the city morgue. Wesley was looking worse. In fact, Oz, despite being unconscious and missing a good part of his skin, looked better than Wesley. Wesley's eyes seemed to be glazed over, his skin turning a soft yellow. He was coated in sweat. His breaths came in soft, short gasps.

Tara buttoned up her shirt and quickly made it back into the room. She checked on Wesley, who looked to be sleeping for once, before returning to Oz's side. She didn't look up until a pair of feet stepped up next to her. Glancing up, Tara blushed slightly at the sight of Willow. While she was comfortable in the fact that Willow and her were over, being near the redhead was slightly unnerving.

"Hey, Tara." Willow said softly, gently sitting down next to her.

"Hi." Tara greeted. She stared at Oz's hand, refusing to look at Willow. Slowly, she slipped her hand into Oz's, feeling something burn between the simple connection.

"Tara, I-" Willow cut herself off, before beginning again. "How are you?"

"As well as could be expected." Tara replied.

"Tara... What happened down there?" Willow asked after a moment of silence. Tara looked up at her, their eyes connecting. "I've never seen you use magic like that before. I thought... I thought you didn't like to use it that much."

"It's different, Willow." Tara said, her voice a near whisper. "Some magic must be used, if it's to protect someone important to you. The magic that you use, just for the sake of using it? That's what is wrong. I used my magic, from my own energy sources and not from any other, to help save Oz and Xander."

"What's going on with Oz?" Willow's voice was breaking, as though she didn't want to hear the truth.

"I can't explain it, Willow." Tara informed her. "But... He's my mate."

"Mate?" Willow demanded, eyes widening. "You're not an animal, Tara!"

"I don't know what I am." Tara snapped, before her eyes turned back to Oz. "Something inside of me feels the connection. I feel the energy of the pack. I can feel Spike and Xander in that corner, talking. I can feel Oz's breathing and his heart beating. Something... Something isn't normal here, I realize that. But that, Willow, is for me to figure out."

"Fine." Willow took a deep breath. "I've got to go. We've got to get Buffy to the morgue and I should go check on Ms. Summers."

"Willow." Tara called, before Willow could walk away. "I still love you. A part of me always will, but... We aren't meant to be."

"I'm starting to realize that." Willow whispered sadly, before joining Giles.

"We'll be in touch." Xander told them, before they left the building, Buffy's corpse cradled in Giles' arms. Xander carefully shut the door and made his way to Spike's side. They sat down, arms wrapped around each other.

Tara sent them a slight smile, before curling up on her side. One arm gently wrapped around Oz's waist and her head pressed against his shoulder. She breathed deeply, taking in Oz's scent. It smelled of his blood, which was dried and caked into the bandages. But it also smelled like the moon, or a scent that Tara related to the moon. It was clear and crisp, with a slight hint of the woods. Sighing, Tara closed her eyes as they waited for the sun to go down.