Complement

XX – As The End Draws Near
(Part A)

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We can see it all from here ~ The starless night across the mountain side ~ No one left to talk to ~ There's nothing left to say ~ Into the valleys ~ The shadow of death ~ Grief's silently across the darkened sea ~ This is it ~ We stand alone ~ Ynd mnd me ~ We stand alone ~ We can see it all from here ~ Stretched far and wide ~ The barren skies ~ Fighting a silence ~ From deep inside...
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Something was there, murmuring low, softly, almost nonexistent. Like a phantom seen out of the corner of an eye, but gone when the head turned to look. It whispered making no sense, were there words, or just humming? Faintly it called, cajoling, asking, but not pleading, and received no answer. Steadily it grew, determined, no longer asking, now telling. It climbed, clawed, scraped, pushed, and tugged itself up the slope, towards something that it had known occasionally over time, and had been allowed to live in only recently for a brief but glorious time. By sheer force of will, it worked its way up, growing in volume, becoming coherent, demanding, wanting, needing, loving, repeating itself, and with brutal force it tore through the veil...

'getupgetupgetupgetupgetuPgetUpgeTupGetuPGpgETUpgeTUPgETUPGETUP... GETUPGETUPGETUP...... GET UP! GET UP! GET THE FUCK UP! GET THE FUCK UP NOW! NO HIDING! NO RUNNING! NO GIVING UP! NOT NOW! NOT EVER! NOW GET THE FUCK UP! YOU HAVE NOT FAILED! YOU ONLY FAIL IF YOU DON'T EVEN TRY! NOW GET THE FUCK UP! NOW!!!!'

It was screaming, screeching, shrieking, demanding and Faith brought her hands up covering her ears, trying to block out the familiar voice. She shook her head in denial and pressed her hands harder against her ears, but you can't ignore something that lived inside of your head. She did not want to listen to the familiar voice; she just wanted to follow Buffy down into the safety of the abyss. To the place, that Faith had lived for most or chr childhood, most of her life. It was safe there, there was no pain, but there was also no joy, no love, no light, only darkness and silence.

'IF YOU FOLLOW YOU CANNOT HELP. THEN YOU WILL HAVE FAILED. FAILED THEM ALL, FAILED YOURSELF. SO GET THE FUCK UP NOW!'

It was the voice, the part of herself that...

...had been kept safely hidden away...

...hidden from the light...

...coming out only when it meant her survival throughout the years...

...that had whispered to her in jail...

...that had conquered and tamed the dark side within her...

...that held her innocence...

...that had kept on hoping throughout the years...

...that remembered how to love...

...was her strength...

...her will...

...her heart and soul...

...was who she always wanted to be...

...who she was becoming...

...the core of all that she was...

...all that she could be...

...was the she that Angel had seen...

...was the shining bright light inside...

Was who she was...

...who she fought so hard to be...

The voice in her head was Faith...

...and SHE wasn't going back down into the darkness, not after being allowed to live in the light, not without a fight.

Not now!

Not ever again!

Faith staggered to her feet, weeping, as she felt Buffy slipping over the edge, falling, sliding down into the tunnel, into the darkness, leaving only emptiness and silence, in the place inside of Faith that Buffy lived.

Taking a deep cleansing breath, hiccupping, wiping angrily at the tears, Faith searched for her center, searched for it all alone for the first time in weeks. She concentrated trying to make sense out of the echoes she had gotten that had formed images in her mind. She remembered seeing in a movie how a young man had taught his blind girlfriend how to see things that you couldn't touch. Like clouds, or colors. He had filled a sink with bubbles and had led her there and placed a mass of the soapy bubbles in her hands, and for the first time the young blind girl knew what and saw a cloud was. Faith closed her eyes, and led her subconscious down a similar path; let it guide her through the echoes of images she had shared with Buffy that day. And she drifted letting the images come to life inside of her mind.

Tears streaming down her face frehinehind the light blue sunglasses, riding like the devil was nipping at her heels, Faith tore down the road on Wesley's Harley towards the abandoned gas station which was only ten minutes down the dirt road from the run-down rattrap motel.
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Muttering to themselves, the escaped mental patients from Sunnydale General Hospital worked at various jobs around the construction site. There was an illogical sort of synchronization to how they were carrying out their tasks; still it worked more or less. One man was using a blowtorch, another hammering nails, a woman struggled carrying a two-by-four plank of wood, bringing it to another woman who was waiting impatiently with a saw in her hand.

One by one they stopped abruptly, their expressions changing quickly from blankness, to awe, they fell to their knees, bowing their heads. In her ceremonial gown, Glory passed them without a glance, pulling Dawn along behind her, who was followed by Glory's ever present minions. She entered the large warehouse, the minions and humans inside displaying the same looks of awe, all falling to their knees, and bowing their heads. Some of the mental patients begin to chant, "The Key. The Key." Glory ignored them heading straight for the door in the back.

Murk opened the door to the construction site's office a few inches and peeked in. er per peeking in, he opened the door fully and entered, followed by Glory, Dawn and two other minions. Without a word, Glory shoved Dawn down into a chair. Turning her back on Dawn, she raised her hand to her head, rubbed her temple as if she were in pain and sat down heavily.

Out of the corner of her eye, Dawn looked at the minion hovering near, almost over her. He was taller, larger, then the other minions, had a beard, and seemed older. He wore ornate robes, and Dawn thought that he would make a perfect High Priest or High Cleric in a fantasy movie. The thing that stood out the most though was the hint of intelligence in his eyes, something she hadn't noticed in any of the other minions so far.

The large minion reached a hand with some kind of green paste on it towards her. Dawn jerked back in fear. He put the paste on her forehead, ignoring her fear. He started chanting in some language she didn't understand, and Dawn realized that the role she had cast him in the movie in her head, was in fact, really what he was, a High Priest.

Glory looked over at the High Priest, between his droning voice and the groupies she was getting a killer headache.

"What's he doing?" In that irritating, now whiny, sickly sweet voice, Glory asked the room in general.

"I must anoint the key," the High Priest answered her.

"Really don't. Go." Glory waved her hand at the High Priest in dismissal.

"But..."

Yelling, Glory cut the High Priest's protest off, "Out! Get out, get out!"

Murk rushed forward, half pushing, half dragging the priest towards the door, shoving him through it, before following the High Priest out himself. Dawn watched them frightened by the bizarre real life cartoon happening in front of her.

/Please let me be dreaming!'

"You know... you recapture your Godhood and unleash Armageddon..." Glory picked up a rag from the table and walked over to Dawn while she was talking. She began to wipe the green paste off Dawn's forehead, "All of a sudden everybody wants to be part of the inner circle."

When she finished, she saw that there was still some green paste left on Dawn's forehead. She did what Mother's for centuries had done. She wet the rag with spittle from her tongue and wiped away the rest of the green paste from Dawn's forehead.

Dawn wrinkled her brow, and managed to keep the look of disgust off her face. She hatedated it when her Mom had done that, let alone some, Skanky-ass-bad-hair-lunatic-exiled-god - as Fawoulwould have said - who wanted to end the world. All 'cause the stupid bitch - Faith again - had tried to kill off her co-gods in her own world... dimension... whatever... and had gotten her stupid, dumb-ass - Faith again - self exiled here!

Glory stood up with a sigh, she tossed the rag away and almost sounded sincere when she asked Dawn, "You okay?"

"I wanna go home." Dawn hated how weak her voice sounded, but she was scared. Where was Buffy? Where was Faith? Where were the Chosen Two?

"Sweetie... ohh..." Glory grabbed a chair and dragged it over close to Dawn, directly in front of her. She climbed up onto the chair and sat on its back, with her feet on the seat. "You're about to." There was a hopeful look on Dawn's face, and Glory who lived for causing pain, waited a few seconds before she continued. "Not that fake suburban nightmare the monks cooked up for you. I mean your real home." Dawn began crying softly as Glory spoke; Glory gave her a puzzled look. "As the Key. You fit the lock... well, it's like a lock. Hey!" Glory patted Dawn's knee, friendly like. "You want pizza?"

"No," Dawn said softly with a puzzled, frightened look, wondering what kind of game Glory was playing at.

"Pillow? .........I don't know if this thing gets cable. Doubtful..."

Dawn began crying again. "Please. Stop."

"You're nervous."

"Yes."

"I know how you feel. It's your last night." Glory stopped talking as she slid off the back of the chair, and actually sat on it correctly, a large part of her relishing the look of terror on Dawn's face. "As, you know, a human." She picked up Dawn's hand by the wrist, "This body," she started shaking Dawn's hand, to emphasis her point. "... It's just a rental, Dawnie. Being human? It's like a costume for girls like you and me. Being something else - that's what we are."

Firmly, with courage that both Buffy and Faith would have been proud of, courage that she had learned from both of them, the Scoobs, her Mom, and Giles, Dawn told Glory, "Don't"

Glory smiled at her curiously; "What?"

"Don't - call - me - Dawnie." Her teeth clenched, there was fear in her eyes, but she stared Glory down.

Glory dropped Dawn's wrist with a surprised laugh and leaned back against the chair, part of her admiring the courage of the child in front of her, part of her hurt by Dawn's rejection of the affectionate name. "Huh... Wow. You know ... that actually hurt my feelings."

Dawn was surprised to realize that Glory was genuinely hurt, it was in the sound of her almost childlike voice, in the little bit of hurt that had slipped through. Dawn was surprised even further to realize, that she felt bad for hurting her, she had an odd sort of empathy for the exiled God. She knew what it felt like to feel all alone, and unloved. Even if Glory was a hell god, she still had feelings. Didn't she? Besides the logical part or the Buffy part of her brain, as Dawn called it, thought it certainly wouldn't help her to pull a Faith and piss Glory off.

Softly, Dawn apologized to Glory, "I'm sorry."

Her tone snappish, her eyes pinning Dawn with an unspoken accusation. "You did this to me, didn't you? Some kind of spell. You've been hanging with the Wicca, you could've......... But no! It's not magic. It's something else." Glory backed off a little, raising her hand to her head as if in pain, or concentrating hard. The look she gave Dawn was one of pure hate, anger, and Dawn recoiled from it. "Still... It is you doing this."

Dawn shook her head in denial, shrinking even further back into the chair, holding back the tears. "I'm not doing anything, I swear."

"We'll see," Glory moved away and tore open the door, to reveal the minions just waiting outside of it, they had been eavesdropping, she sent another glare at Dawn. "Anoint this thing! Now!"

The High Priest, Murk and Gronk entered the room; Dawn's eyes were round, wide open with fright.

'Someone please help me!'

"Know what they're all chanting for out there, Dawnie? Blood. 'Cause we found out your blood... is the Key to the Key." The High Priest began putting the green paste on Dawn's forehead again while Glory continued to talk in that irritating, sickly sweet tone. "All I gotta do is bleed you dry, the Portal opens up, and I go home. So knock yourself out, girlfriend. Make me feel bad as you can," the evil glint restored in her eyes again, Glory lowered her voice and softly told Dawn, "'cause tomorrow.................... You bleed, little girl!"

'Buffy! Faith! Someone! Anyone! Please, please, please help me!'
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She flew into the gas station's parking lot doing about seventy-five. Her eyes were tearing badly, the light blue sunglasses not helping much in the way of keeping the dust and wind out. At first, it didn't register what it was she was seeing, swerving to avoid a body, she slammed on the hand and foot brakes locking them up. The rear of the bike slid out from under her. She put her right foot down, pushing up; trying to bring the bike out of the slide, but the Harley was too heavy for even her. Faith and the bike wiped out, both sliding through the dirt, and stopping about twenty feet away from where the slide had started. She gave a silent prayer of thanks that neither she nor the bike had slid into a body.

She rose to her feet; her right foot was throbbing and bleeding again from the gashes from the broken coffeepot. She had to fight down the bile that rose up hot and strong in the back of her throat at the sight of the carnage in front of her. The bodies of the dead Knights lay scattered around her feet. Some were twisted in unnatural positions, others with missing limbs, one was decapitated, blood and guts were scattered everywhere.

Fear coiled deep in the pit of her stomach, settled into her bones, making her shiver. She was terrified for Dawn who was now at the mercy of the monster who had done this. She closed her eyes, opening herself to the night and listened. The night air was still, the silence echoing loudly in her ears. She could not detect any living creature in the parking lot, in fact anywhere in the immediate area. Carefully she made her way through the field of the dead, towards the building, hoping to find some clue to where everyone had gone.

The first thing Faith saw as she drew closer to the building was the smashed door. She cautiously went inside; she scanned the room quickly and saw the blood on the counter. Giles blood? She walked over to the pay phone, picked up the receiver and put it to her ear, no dial tone. Her hand had tingled a little when she had touched it and vaguely she wondered if Willow had tried casting some sort of spell on the phone.

She left the customer area of the gas station, entered the garage bay and was greeted by the site of Gregor. There was a pool of blood at his feet and Faith felt her stomach churning again. She saw that he had been almost cut in half by a hubcap and she knew even with their Slayer strength that neither she nor Buffy could have done that, which only left Glory. In an odd sort of way, she was glad that it was Glory and not Bu she she hoped that Buffy never had to know what it felt like to take a human life. Deep down inside she didn't believe that Buffy could ever take a life deliberately, regardless of what the person may have done.

Her eyes fell upon the medical bag on the workbench and she made her way over to it. She knew this didn't belong to any of the Scoobs, a first aid kit, yes, but, not a medical bag. She doubted that it belonged to the Knights either, especially since she had seen nothing but swords, javelins, bows and arrows, and various other medieval weaponry outside. Curiously she opened the bag, hoping to find something that would tell her who it belonged to. She dumped the cnts nts of the bag out onto the workbench and sifted through the scattered items but found nothing to identify the owner.

She did a quick search of the rest of the garage and went back outside. She took a sword from one of the fallen Knights apologizing to the dead soldier for stealing from him, and put it in the saddlebag of the Harley. She managed to get the Harley upright without too much trouble; she carefully looked it over seeing if her wipeout had caused any damage. As far as she could see, the only damage was a slightly bent rear foot peg. She crossed her fingers and kick started the bike. It turned over on the first try and she gave another silent prayer of thanks, not even sure who it was that she was thanking.

It seemed lately or rather the longer she was a Slayer the line between good and evil were blurring, becoming gray, Spike, and now the Knights serving as prime examples.

Mentally she made a list of possible places the gang c hav have gone to and came to the conclusion that out of all of them, two were the most likely. Faith pointed the Harley towards Sunnydale, spinning the rear wheel as she took, le, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake.
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"You sure you know what you're doing?" Anya asked Willow in a soft tone.

They were in Anya and Xander's apartment. Anya sat on one couch while Willow sat holding Tara's hand on the other. Every so often Willow would gently stroke Tara, offerinr whr what little comfort she could. Even in her current condition, Tara's bond with Willow was strong. It was to Willow that Tara turned to for comfort when she was frightened. It was Willow that Tara tried to communicate with, tried desperately to make sense from the confused recesses of her mind so she could warn them, help them, help Willow.

"I think so......... I don't know. It's... not exactly well explored territory, but... I gotta try," and Willow didn't know. But there weren't many options left open to them at this point. Buffy was her best friend and like Faith there was now an even deeper connection between them because of the enjoining spell. Granted it was different then what Faith and Buffy shared but it was still there. She could at times feel Buffy there on the edges of her mind. Willow owed Buffy a lot. It was doubtful that she would be alivday day if it weren't for Buffy, who had taken the first step towards being friends with the shy, self-conscious girl that Willow used to be. There was no way that Willow could leave her like she was, just because the spell was dangerous. No way in hell!

"Spells like this ... It could be dangerous for Buffy. And you."

"Time... oh, time is coming..." Tara tried to warn them, the part of her that was still 'Tara' hoped that they would understand.

"Shh... It's okay. I'm here." Gently, soothingly, Willow told Tara as she began to whimper. Anya moved over and joined them on the couch, the concern in her eyes. Willow realized just how much Anya had changed.

"You'll look after her while I'm ..."

"Sure. What do I do?"

"Mostly... just... be here for her." Anya nodded her understanding to Willow. "And... and there's some pills in my knapsack. Half of one every two hours keeps her... pretty mellow."

"Y-you think you'll be gone more than two hours?" She was nervous about this; she wished that Willow would wait until the others got back. Anya knew she still wasn't that good when it came to emergency situations. What happened if things went wrong? She knew though that Willow wouldn't wait, couldn't wait.

Willow shrugged her shoulders, she really didn't have a clue how long it would take, didn't know if the spell would work at all. "Wish me luck."

"Okay." Anya punched Willow on the arm, remembering that she had seen sne dne do it in a movie once. She felt awkward, and she punched Willow just a little too hard a forced smile on her face. "Good Luck."

"Thanks." Willow looked at Anya for just a minute, it dawned on her that she really had come to like the ex-vengeance demon. The sincerity was in her voice and face when she had thanked Anya. Willow turned her attention to Tara... to her always, "Okay. Be good now, sweetie. I-I'll be back soon as I can, okay? We're good?"

Tara stared at Willow intently while she was talking, Willow kissed her on the forehead and smiled at her and rose from the couch. Tara held out her hand towards her, whimpering, silently pleading for her to come back. Willow ignored that silent plea as best she could, and gathered up what she needed from the nearby table. Without a glance backwards at them, she opened the door to the master bedroom, entered and closed it softly nd hnd her.

"Good luck," Anya whispered softly at the closed door.
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On the small nightstand beside the bed, Willow placed a few candles and lit them. It was more for atmosphere then anything else, this was not an elaborate spell, no gigantic magic, it was actually quite simple. She placed a few more candles on the nightstand on the other side of the bed, lighting them too. She walked back around and sat on the edge of the bed, trying to keep her mind clear, she raised her eyes and looked at her best friend, who was sitting across from her in a chair, catatonic.

Willow locked her eyes with the unseeing, empty, dead eyes of Buffy, giving a silent prayer to the goddesses that this would work, and let her mind drift.
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Willow blinked rapidly in confusion and saw she was standing inside of a house that she had never been in before. She looked down at herself and saw that she was still wearing the same clothes she had on when she entered the er ber bedroom at Xander and Anya's. Mentally she smiled knowing that the spell had worked... so far.

She looked at her surroundings, there were flowers, a lot of them scattered around the room in vases. Knick-knacks on all of the tables, and the furniture looked like it was from the late seventies or early eighties, she couldn't be sure, furniture wasn't her thing. The room was cheerful, the curtains open making the room a bright happy place.

Taking a last look around, Willow walked slowly over to the doorway and left the room. The first thing she noticed was the large photo of a woman with a baby hanging on the wall over the fireplace mantle. There was something familiar about the woman and child in the photo. Other pictures were on top of the mantle, with some small sculptures. As Willow gazed around the room, she saw that there were quite a few more pictures scattered around the room, and something nagged at the back of her mind that she should know who the people in the pictures were. She turned away from fireplace, panning slowly around.

She saw more pictures, tasteful small pieces of artwork, sculptures, a record player and records. She could see out of the corner of her eye a couch was behind her.

From behind startling her, came a voice, a child's voice, "Hi Willow."

Willow turned around and saw a little blonde-haired girl. Her hair was in pigtails, and the child looked to be around six or seven years old. The little girl was sitting at a round child's table, toys were scattered on the table and on the floor around her. She was holding a doll, looking at Willow with bright, innocent, hazel eyes.

Willow smiled at the little girl, "Hello, Buffy."
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He kicked the door open with a loud crash, grinning, thinking he had done that better then any cop he had ever seen on the telly. He knew that Red wouldn't be happy if she found out but fuck it, she had only said no looking for paybacks, she never said he had to be quiet when he went to see if Glory was at her apartment. Nothing he could do if Glory came after him, except defend himself, right?

Spike stuck his head through the open door and jumped back quickly when he thought he saw something, someone move. When nothing happened he laughed softly at himself, thinking it was a good thing no one was around to see William the Bloody acting like a scaredy-cat. He listened attentively for any signs of life inside the apartment. He didn't hear any, he entered, flipped on the lights and lit a cigarette.

He walked around; rather he ambled through the apartment the façade of William the Bloody wrapped around him like a cloak. Truth be told though, he would prefer not to take on Glory by himself. Now that he thought about it, kicking in the door had been rather bloody stupid, had Glory been here it would have taken away any element of surprise he would have had. He flicked his ashes carelessly on the floor, picking up items as he wandered and tossing them carelessly on the floor. He smiled every time he heard something break.

He turned to walk out of the apartment not finding anything that could help them when something caught him out of the corner of his eye. Spike turned around and saw the small, almost hidden door off to the side, no wonder he almost missed it the door was practically invisible. If it wasn't for his heightened vampire senses, he would have missed it. He walked over to it and ran his fingers around the almost imperceptible seam of the door, pushing gently against it noticing the dim light that came from inside. Reaching down he cautiously opened the door and stepped inside.

The room was just slightly larger then a walk-in closet. There were no personal items, no pictures, no books, no records, there was only a small bed, a lamp and some green medical scrubs lying upon the floor. Hell the room even depressed him; his crypt had more than this. Obviously, this was Ben's room and from appearances, Ben didn't rate too high on Glory's list.
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Anya pulled her eyes away from the Scooby-Doo video that she and Tara were watching when she heard the soft knock on the door. For a second her eyes flashed with fear but it quickly faded, it was unlikely that Glory would knock first. She rose and went over to the door, still a little afraid to find out who was on the other side.

"Who is it?" she queried softly.

"Faith."

Anya opened the door with a grateful sigh, only to be pushed aside roughly. Faith stood for just a split second, opening herself to the apartment, to Buffy. Then she turned not even questioning how she knew and made a beeline for the master bedroom.

"Stop!" Anya yelled, but Faith ignored her and kept walking across the room determined. Anya ran after her, and somehow managed to put herself between Faith and the door. "Wait! You can't go in there," and how the hell did Faith know Buffy was in the bedroom anyway?

Faith looked at her like she was nuts, and why the hell was she whispering. Faith growled at Anya, "Move out of my way."

For the first time since meeting Faith, Anya was afraid of her. In a glance, Anya took in Faith's disheveled appearance. She was covered in road dust, her hair was in total disarray, her face raw and red from windburn, and there was something wild in Faith's stare. It was as if she was holding onto her self-control by a very thin, frayed thread. Then Anya noticed how red and swollen Faith's eyes were, and the way her lip was trembling as well as her body. She saw sadness and fear in Faith's eyes, and she knew that the fear she was seeing in Faith's eyes wasn't for herself, but for Dawn and Buffy, for every one of them.

Faith reached out to shove Anya out of her way, her only thought to get to Buffy and that no one was going to stop her. She froze when Anya gently placed her hand on her arm.

"Faith..." Anya said gently, touching the raven-haired Slayer lightly on the arm. "Willow is in there with Buffy trying to help her. She..." She hesitated, staring into those eyes that seemed almost to burn her. "She did a spell... You can't go in there. It could be dangerous for both of them if you do." Anya relaxed when she saw the thunder go out of Faith's eyes and be replaced by concern. "Come... sit down. I'll tell you what happened." Gently she led Faith over to the couch, and practically had to shove her onto it.

Anya began telling Faith what had happened to them that day. Faith listened with half an ear, her eyes riveted to the master bedroom door. Every part of her called out to the Slayer on the other side of the door. She still had that empty feeling inside of her, it echoed loudly, endlessly. She reopened the connection between them, she had shut it down on her way here, had to in order to keep focused. Closing her eyes, she reached out to Buffy hoping to break through that silence. She almost pulled back when she felt something, someone... someone that was not Buffy in there and then she recognized who it was. It was Red and Faith got a flash of irritation from her, a gentle warning to back off, to get out. Which she did quickly, this had to have something to do with the current spell and Faith suspected the enjoining spell as well.

She opened her eyes and looked at Anya who it seemed was rambling. "Red's in B's mind, how? Tell me what this spell is that Red did..." Faith asked hoarsely.
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Willow felt Faith the second she reached out for Buffy. It threw her off balance, but she quickly reached back out to Faith, warning her, gently asking her to leave. The spell was dangerous enough for Buffy and Willow as it was, she had no idea what would happen if Faith entered into the equation. She hadn't realized just how deep the connection between the Chosen Two had gotten. Wow, was all she could think, but pulled herself away from those thoughts, she could talk to them about it later, now she needed to concentrate her energies on Buffy. She gave a mental sigh of relief when she felt Faith retreat. Willow turned her attention back to the child Buffy in front of her.

"What are you doing here?" Child Buffy asked Willow, looking up at her with innocent eyes. Innocence was something Willow couldn't ever recall seeing in Buffy's eyes, not the Buffy she had always known. Her Buffy had her innocence taken away from her the day she was called. They all had their innocence taken from them when they were way too young. Shaking herself again mentally, Willow focused on the six year old in front of her.

"Actually, I'm, um...... looking for you."

"Do you like dolls?" The child began stroking the doll's hair; there was a sort of sadness surrounding her.

"Buffy, what are you doing here?"

"I like it here."

Willow caught a slight hint of a plea in the child's voice, or maybe she was imagining it. "But..." Willow knelt down next to Buffy, bringing her eyes level with the child's, locking them with hers. "You know we need you. You have to come out."

"Why?" The child Buffy was genuinely curious.

"To be with your friends."

"It's a big day for me," she told Willow looking over towards the front door, which Willow heard open a second later.

"Hello!" The voice was younger, lighter, but Willow knew it belonged to Joyce.

"Mommy, Daddy!" The child Buffy got up quickly, handing her doll to Willow and ran towards her parents, smiling brightly, a carefree smile that Willow hadn't seen on Buffy's face for a long time. It was only recently that she had begun to see that smile again, thanks to Faith. "You're back! You're back!"

Willow rose to her feet and turned towards the door. She watched as a young Joyce and Hank Summers came through the door. Joyce was holding a newborn bundled in blankets in her arms.

"Hello, Buffy."

Hank leaned down to his daughter, placing his hands on his knees, bringing his eyes level with her. "How's my girl?" He was rewarded with a smile from his daughter.

"Ready to meet your new baby sister?"

The child Buffy backed away from her Mother, frowning, crossing her arms protectively, holding herself. Willow wondered as she watched her if Buffy was being shy or was afraid.

"Oh c'mon now, Buffy... she's nothing to be afraid of."

"Who's afraid?" There was something almost defiant in her voice. Almost as if, the thought of her being afraid was ludicrous. The word precocious came to Willow's mind as she watched young Buffy.

"Don't you want to be the big sister?"

"No, I wanna be the baby." Again, Willow heard a hint of a plea in the child Buffy's voice.

"Buffy..." Her father began, but his daughter cut him off.

"You're gonna pay more attention to her and forget all about me."

"Ohh..." Joyce knelt down beside her oldest child, the baby cooing softly in her arms.

Six-year-old Buffy looked quickly at the baby and turned to Willow, "Doesn't she look funny? Like a wrinkly old grandpa." Child Buffy didn't wait for Willow to answer her, instead she turned back around to look at her Mom and the baby.

Joyce smiled at her daughter, and carefully, gently she placed the newborn in her sister's arms. "Here. Like this. Support the head. There you go. We're calling her Dawn."

"Dawn," Willow whispered softly more to herself then to anyone else.

Child Buffy's whole demeanor changed the instant Joyce placed the baby in her arms. She hugged her sister, Dawn to her tightly and smiled down at the baby. "I ... I could be the one to look after her sometimes, if you need a helper........ Mom? Can I take care of her?"

"Yes, Buffy. You can take care of her." Joyce gently stroked her older daughter's hair.

Willow watched them, a soft smile on her face; she heard a sound from behind her and turned around. She saw adult Buffy standing alone in the Magic Shop. She took a step closer. Buffy's hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders, she was wearing a sleeveless shirt, and a skirt. She had a book in her hand. Buffy walked over to the bookshelves and placed the book in her hand on the shelf. She paused for just a second, then turned and walked away.

Willow watched as grown-up Buffy walked past her without a word or a glance. Willow was a little confused, what was the point of this? She turned around and looked back at where the child Buffy was, or rather had been.

Willow furrowed her brows in confusion, blinking rapidly. What the hell happened? She was no longer in either Buffy's childhood home in L.A. or in the Magic Shop. Instead, she was outside, it was night, and she was standing next toonfionfire. "Ohh... kay..."
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Faith was pacing in the living room. What was taking Willow so long? She was mumbling under her breath, waving her hands around, ignoring the pain in her feet, the longer they were in there the more she worried. She didn't like this not knowing, didn't like that she had to cut herself completely off from Buffy, couldn't even reach out a little to try and feel what was happening. She knew she couldn't not after Anya explained to her what Willow was trying. She could put all three of them in danger if she did. So instead, she paced and muttered, going into a soft, worried tirade, similar to the angry ones Buffy and Dawn were usually treated to.

Anya was getting dizzy watching her and she had noticed that Faith was limping a little. When she had asked about it, Faith had just brushed her concern aside. Tara alternated between looking at the bedroom door, watching the Scooby Doo video and watching Faith pace. She giggled at Faith as she paced finding her almost as amusing as the video.

Faith stopped her pacing at Tara's giggle and smiled at the witch. She was so going to enjoy ripping that skanky-bad-haired-fucking-bitch to pieces with her bare hands for what she did. She didn't give a flying fuck whether Glory was a god or not, she had yet to met the Dark Slayer and Faith had every intention of introducing Glory to the Dark Slayer when she finally did meet her.

After a second or two, Faith went back to her pacing, mumbling and hand waving.
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Giles tried to put on his jacket, but it was next to impossible. He couldn't move his left arm at all and only managed to get the jacket onto his right arm. He got up gingerly from the hospital bed, his face grimacing in pain; he placed his right hand over his stomach where the spear had pierced him. Xander walked over and helped him put his jacket on the rest of the way, and they walked together out to the hallway.

"There. How you doing?"

"Only hurts when I answer pointless questions. Where's Buffy?" Giles voice was dry.

"Willow's on it. Or, in it. She's working some spell, trying to reach Buffy psychically."

"She's gone into Buffy's mind?" There was concern in his voice. That spell was dangerous for both of them.

"Pretty trippy stuff."

"It's extraordinarily advanced." Giles just hoped that Willow was up to it. He knew she was becoming more powerful, he just hadn't realized how powerful a witch she had become. "I'm thinking we might check on Glory's victims while re hre here."

Spike joined Xander and Giles after he pilfered a bag of blood off one of the medical carts in the hallway. Xander looked at the blood that Spike had hidden poorly in his trench coat, but didn't say anything.

"The mental ward? Already been. Vegetable section's closed. Nobody there. It's like they all just got up and walked away."

"Checked out Glory's flat... looks like the Great One has scampered."

"Gone to... uh... perform her ritual with Dawn. And leaving us entirely clueless." Giles tried to keep his voice even, keep the fear for Dawn out of it, but he didn't succeed.

"Not entirely." Spike smiled at them when they looked at him surprised. He knew they were wondering if he had been holding out on them again like in the early days. "I know this bloke. Well, not so much a bloke, so much as demon but still... Bookish. All tuned in to the nar cor corners of this, our magic world. Bit of a last resort, really, but still..." Spike paused and lit a cigarette, ignoring the No Smoking sign on the wall. "... Might persuade him to suss out Glory's game plan. Sound worthy?" He waited but neither Giles nor Xander said anything, "Off we go, then." He looked at Giles, "Meet back at the shop." Giles nodded his head yes, and Spike turned and walked away, Xander trailing after him. "Found Ben's room at Glory's. Didn't learn much."

"Wait... wait, wait.... Ben? At Glory's?" Xander saw Spike roll his eyes at him. "So you're saying tall all this time he was sub-letting from her?"

Arching his eyebrow, Spike let a little evil grin play around his mouth. "This... is gonna be worth it." He smiled again and smacked Xander hard upside his head.

"Ow!" Both Xander and Spike yelled out together.

"Last time, from the top ..." Spike said exasperated as they exited the hospital, both were rubbing their heads.
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She was leaning up against the wall, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers like she had a migraine. Her body was tense, she was tense, she wanted this to be over. Something didn't feel right, she didn't feel right, and it was giving her a killer headache.

"I'm hating this, Murk." Glory, both whined and sighed out, as she watched her idiot minions looked at each other in confusion and fear. Well the fear made her feel a little bit better. She so loved pain and fear.

"And this would be what exactly, your holiness?" Gronx asked her his voice trembling just a little.

"Memories. I'm starting to remember the things Ben did. People he spoke with, stuff he wore..." The minions look at each other in fear, alarmed by this. Glory shuddered, and turned her attention to Dawn. "Kid!" She walked over to Dawn, the minions parted and moved out of her way, only the High Priest hovered close by. "I came... He... came to see you."

"Ben?" Dawn asked Glory nervously, she liked it a lot better when Glory didn't pay attention to her.

"Yeah. Ben. You..." Glory paused and closed her eyes, concentrating remembering what she shouldn't. "You called him. To the desert, when you were hiding from me. And he came. And then, he was me. You remember?"

"Yes." Dawn was even more nervous and scared, the second she said yes to Glory she knew that was the wrong answer, why didn't she lie?

'Buffy, Faith, anyone where are you?'

Glory spun around glaring at her minions, yelling at them. "See?!? She's not supposed to remember that! Nobody should." She rubbed her chest over her heart; she was beginning to have a panic attack. "The cloak between Ben and me is fading. I almost helped her! He..." She turned back again to Dawn, glaring. "I wanted to..." Glory groaned, shaking her head violently in denial, this wasn't right, this was not supposed to happen damn it! "I can't do this."

Glory stormed past Dawn and grabbed the High Priest by the robes, tempted to fling him across the room. She had waited too long for this, planned, plotted and it was all starting to fall apart on her at the last moment. "Get him out of me." She shouted at the High Priest.

"What?" The High Priest was confused, and then he became terrified when his god started crying.

"Ben! The human meatsack who's infecting me. Do your mojo, make a surgical..." She paused searching for the right word, and sniffling. "Incision or removal or whatever it is you gotta do! Help me!" Glory started pacing becoming more and more distraught. "I'm thinking Ben's thoughts and feeling his feelings and... I – I – I - I..."

Glory morphed into Ben in the blink of an eye, surprising everyone in the room. The change had never happened that quickly before, and no one was more surprised then Ben to be standing there, he was almost ghost-like, and he already felt the change beginning to happen again, he blurted out, "... Can't kill the girl...!"

He barely finished his sentence before he morphed back into Glory. She staggered, grabbed her throat, she was horrified, afraid and disoriented. She collapsed to the floor, pushing herself up with her arms, barely able to hold herself up. "Damn it!" She looked to the priest. "Help me." It was half plea and half command. Dawn watched terrified.

"This I cannot do. You risk terrible Magicks in opening the Portal. Nothing comes without a price. This is yours." He was speaking to her like a wayward child.

"Gods don't pay." She rose from the ground with a feral growl, in control of herself again. She walked towards Dawn, who was pushing herself further back in the chair, cowering from Glory. Glory grabbed Dawn by the throat, yanking her out of the chair, holding her off the floor, causing her to gasp desperately for air. "We do this now."
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On the other side of the bonfire from her and off a little to her right was Buffy sitting on a rock. To the left of her was the Primitive, it took Willow a second to recognize her, but she remembered her from when she had invaded their dreams. This was getting way surreal. Buffy and the Primitive stared at each other from across the fire.

"Hey... I know you. You're that first original Slayer who tried ing ing us all in our dreams," Willow paused for a second then trailed off lamely. "How've you been?"

The First Slayer either ignored her or didn't know she was there, instead she spoke to Buffy, staring at her intently. They were reenacting what had happened during Buffy's Slayer Quest. "Death is your gift."

"Death is my gift?" Buffy asked her puzzled.

"Wait... Death is her what?" Willow looked at the First Slayer just as puzzled, and was ignored again.

"Death is your gift." The First Slayer once again told Buffy.

Willow looked at Buffy squinting at her in confusion. Suddenly she found herself once again in the Magic Shop. The same exact scene played out again. Willow frowned in confusion only this time as she watched she saw how Buffy frowned, how she seemed for a second lost in thought. Then she turned around and walked past Willow again without a glance, without a word.

Willow watched her concentrating, what was it that she was missing? She wished she had taken more psych classes now. She turned to her right and saw that she was once again somewhere new, only this place she knew, probably as well as her own house. They were in the upstairs hallway of the Summers' house. Buffy was walking away from her, she was dressed in jeans and a black tank top, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Buffy walked down the hallway away from her heading towards the doorway at the whe where bright sunlight splashed upon the floor in front of the partially opened door.

Willow hurried down the hallway trying to catch up to Buffy, "Where you going?"
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Glory was holding Dawn up by her throat choking her. Dawn was gasping for air, struggling against the god to no avail; she was beginning to feel lightheaded, and knew she was going to pass out soon.

"Glorificus! Wait! Kill the Key now, all will be lost!"

"You will be stuck on this mortal plane forever."

The minions pleaded with her, hoping to break through her rage, her blood lust.

"All right, you're right..." Regaining control of herself Glory released Dawn. "...it's cool." Dawn staggered backwards, grabbing her throat, gasping in large gulps of pain-filled air. Glory smiled enjoying her pain. "I'm just a little emotional right now..." Glory let out a small almost hysterical giggle. "Which, if you're into irony: funny." Dawn backed away a little bit more from Glory and reached out towards a pillar using it for support still gasping. Glory looked over at her minions, and commanded them, "Leave. We need a little girl time." They began to bow to her groveling; she waved impatiently at them, "Goodbye!"

Glory watched them leave; she rubbed her neck trying to ease some of the tension there. Dawn glared daggers at her from the pillar, giving her a look, and showing a spirit that the Chosen Two would have been proud of. It might not have been the smartest thing to do, but she really had nothing to lose now, did she? Glory turned her attention back to Dawn after the minions finally left the room, taking that droll High Priest with them.

"How do they do it?" There was genuine curiosity in Glory's voice.

"Do what?" It hurt Dawn to talk, her voice was hoarse and laced with suspicion.

Glory shot Dawn a duh look, like she should know what she was talking about. She walked towards Dawn as she talked. "People. How do they function? Here. Like this, in the world, with all this bile running through them. Every day, it's whoo-ooo......" She waved her hand at Dawn; it took Dawn a second to realize that Glory was imitating a rollercoaster. "You have no control. They're not even animals, they're just these meatbaggy slaves to hormones and pheromones and their, and their... feelings...... Hate 'em."

Dawn stopped rubbing her neck and looked at Glory not sure if she should be afraid, amazed, stunned, or laugh in her face. This exiled god was off her rocker. She watched Glory move to stand behind one of the large drafting tables and lean on it. Once Glory was comfortable, she started talking again.

"I mean really, is this what the poets go on about? This?"ory ory slapped her chest over her heart, shaking her head, a little amazed and sighed dramatically. Dawn thought she would have made a great actress. "Call me crazy. But as hard core drugs go, human emotion's just useless. People are puppets, everyone getting jerked around by what they're feeling... am I wrong? Really, I want to know." Glory looked at Dawn, who stared back at her. Dawn dropped her eyes to the floor and closed them, and leaned into the pillar a little more. What the hell did she want from her, she was only a fourteen-year-old kid for Christ's sake. "Gonna bleed you either way."

Dawn opened her eyes and looked up at Glory, so maybe she knew a little bit about this. She had some good role models, the Scoobs, the L.A. Crew, her sister and Faith. "It depends on the person." Dawn told Glory softly.

"So, you're saying some people like this?"

"Some." Dawn told her, her tone was defensive, she couldn't tell if Glory was mocking them, humans in general, for feeling. She felt a second of pity for the exiled god, who would never know the joys that love could bring you. Her world only consisted of pain and fear. Dawn found that extremely sad. Not sad enough where she wasn't hoping that her sister, Faith and the Scoobs wouldn't still come and destroy the bad-haired-bitch - Faith again.

"Funny, 'cause I look around at this world you're so eager to be a part of, and all I see's six billion lunatics looking for the fas rid ride out." Glory stopped to give Dawn what she thought was a winning, endearing smile, as if she were sharing some big secret with her. "Who's not crazy? Look around... everyone's drinkin', smokin', shootin' up, shootin' each other or just plain screwing their brains out because they don't want 'em anymore. I'm crazy?" Glory looked to Dawn for confirmation.

'You're crazy all right, crazier then you think,' Dawn couldn't help but think to herself.

"Honey, I am the original one-eyed chicklet in the kingdom of the blind" Again Glory paused sighing dramatically, as if she was the only sane person on the planet because she admitted that she wasn't sane. It made sense to her. "'...cause at least I admit the world makes me nuts".

Glory stopped talking and walked out from behind the drafting table. She walked towards Dawn, and stopped in front of her. "Name one person who can take it here. That's all I'm asking..." Glory got right up in Dawn's face, almost close enough to kiss her. "Name one."

Dawn stared right back at her, and told her firmly, without hesitation and with conviction. "Buffy," and in her head, she continued the list... Faith, Tara, Willow, Giles, Xander, Anya, Spike, Angel, Cordelia, Wesley, Gunn and her Mom when she was alive. But Dawn knew better then to push it, knew better then to give Glory anything else. She knew it and knowing it was enough.
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Willow followed Buffy down the upstairs hallway of her house. None of this was making sense to her yet. She wondered if it would. Was there something she should be doing other then this? She hurried a little to catch up with Buffy, babble mode kicking in, "I can't keep following you around like this, Buffy. We have to go. You have to talk to ..." Buffy pushed open the door to her Mom's bedroom and entered, Willow entered the room right behind her then stopped cold in her tracks her babble trailing off. "......me."

Willow knew this was Joyce's room and somewhere in recesses of her mind, she realized that she was seeing it how Buffy saw it in her own mind. Slowly she walked further into the bedroom. The room was exactly how it had always been with a rather large exception; there wasn't a bed or carpet. Instead, there was grass, and a mound of fresh dirt, with a headstone. As Willow moved closer she could see what it said, Joyce Summers 1958 – 2001. She moved next to Buffy, who was standing at the end of the grave looking at it, her arms crossed defensively. They stood side by side looking down at the grave, Willow felt inadequate, just because this was a dream or rather Buffy's mind didn't change the fact that she still didn't know how or what to do to help her best friend deal with the loss of her Mother. But this wasn't about her, it was about Buffy and helping her out of the catatonic state she had fallen into.

"I'm sorry," Willow told her softly.

Buffy shook her head, but didn't turn to look at Willow when she spoke. "Don't be, Will. Death is my gift." Buffy turned and walked out of the room still without looking at Willow, who just followed behind her talking.

"Yeah, I keep hearing that, but I'm not sure what it means."

Buffy continued walking towards another door speaking to Willow over her shoulder. "It's really not that complicated."

"Not to you, maybe ..." Willow followed Buffy into the room, she saw Dawn lying in bed, and watched as Buffy sat down on the bed next to Dawn and briefly looked at her. Buffy raised her head, turned it, and for the first time looked directly at Willow. There was something a little empty about her eyes evere ere in the dreamscape, and an air of sadness, almost a sense of finality surrounded her, it made Willow shiver a little.

"It's what I do." Buffy tone was a little too flat, a little too calm, as if she were speaking from rote. Dawn was breathing slowly, evenly and she seemed to be crying. "I mean, c'mon, you've known me... for how long? It's what I'm here for. It's what I am."

Buffy looked away from Willow and back down at her sister. She reached over in an unhurried manner and picked up a pillow from beside Dawn's head. Casually she placed the pillow over Dawn's face, ignoring Dawn's smothered protests and her struggles to get out from under the pillow.

Willow watched in horror for a second before finding her voice. "Buffy! Stop! No!" Buffy calmly ignored her sister's flailing arms and legs, Willow's shouts, and continued to press the pillow down onto Dawn's face. "God! NO!" Willow pleaded with Buffy.

"What?" Buffy turned to Willow, as Dawn's struggling slowed. "I keep telling you. I figured it out. Death is my gift."

Buffy continued to hold the pillow over Dawn's now motionless body. Willow could do nothing but stare in horror at the scene in front of her and at the calm continence of her best friend.
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Glory was struggling; she walked forward towards Dawn, her face contorted, as she tried to retain control of the body she shared with Ben.

"Ohh, Ben! This is really... not a good time..." Glory gave up control and morphed into Ben in tlinklink of an eye. Ben continued to walk towards Dawn.

"Dawn. Has Glory hurt you?"

"Uh... No. Not yet." Dawn saw that he was trembling, shaky. She saw the fear on his face as he sat down in a chair opposite her. "But I have to get out of here. Ben?" She was nervous; he was staring at his hands, as if waiting for them to change back. "You okay?"

Ben was still staring at his hands, there was blood on them, where had it come from? How had it gotten there? What did he do? What did Glory do? He asked Dawn about it, it took her a second or two but then she realized that Ben too was beginning to remember what Glory did while she was in control of the body. Dawn told Ben how Glory had explained to her that the magic that kept them separate was beginning to break down. He wanted to know why, but Dawn didn't have the answers he sought. Her only objective now was to get him to help her to get out of here, to get to Buffy. She tried to convince him but he seemed to be caught up in his own little nightmare. Dawn was a little frightened of him; he was acting more like Glory then the Ben she had come to know.

Dawn stared at him pleadingly, then a knock at the door startled them both. They both looked at the door, anxious, unsure of what to do.

"Help me," Dawn pleaded with him once again.

"How?"

"Highness?" Questioned the High Priest from the other side of the door. Ben turned towards Dawn; she could not read his expression.

"Please." She begged him softly when he rose from the chair and headed towards the door.

"Is everything all right?" The High Priest's voice came again to them from the other side of the door. Ben opened the door, and the High Priest began to enter. "You're not...."

Ben didn't give him a chance to finish, he grabbed the High Priest by his ornate robe and yanked him through the door. Before he gave it to much thought, Ben ferocly hly head-butted him and knocked him into the wall, then cold-cocked him, knocking the High Priest out cold. He turned away from the unconscious minion and looked into the terrified eyes of Dawn.

"I'll take you as far as I can. Ditch you before she comes back." He grabbed her hand and they ran out the door together.
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Continued in Chapter XX – As The End Draws Near (Part B)