disclaimer in part one

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July 1, 1999

Willow jerked out of sleep, covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Looking around frantically, she finally rested eyes on her ringing phone and sighed, smiling a little to herself. She picked it up, glancing at the clock. 7:14.

"Hello?" She didn't give the caller a chance to talk before she went on. "If you have my private number, I'm assuming you know me well enough to know that I always sleep in until 7:30 or 8:00 during the summer. That said, who is this so I can kill you?"

Xander's laughter rang out over the other end of the line. "Hey Will.  Sheesh, you should get some rest!" he commanded, making her giggle and settle back against her pillows. She yawned, waking up.

"So are we still going to the library at ten?"

"Yeah," Xander said. "I was gonna ask you if you wanted to grab some donuts or something... Maybe go out and hang with your lonely friend for a little while?"

Willow grinned. "Would love to. Can't, though. Oz is going to take me out for a breakfast this morning. We planned it last-Oh my God!" She bolted upright, worry crossing over her face.

"What? Oh God, Will, answer! What?" Xander yelled into the phone, panicking at the thought of something happening to Willow.

She rushed to reassure him. "Xander- I'm fine. I just--"

He cut her off. "Nothing good ever comes after 'I just." You're not fine. You're dying and you don't want to tell me. Donuts are out. You're really going to a doctors appointment." He spoke in one breath, convinced.

"Xander." Her voice was firm, catching his attention. "No. I am fine. I remembered a dream that I had last night, that's all. Don't worry."

His heart was pounding crazily. "Willow," he said, in a voice more serious than she would have imagined it could be, "If something is wrong, please tell me now. I don't think I could bear not knowing..."

Willow stared at the phone, her breath coming far too quickly than she liked. "No, really Xander," she confirmed at last. "I'm fine. When I was talking about Oz, I just remembered that I had had a really bad dream where... Well, I don't remember that part. I just know it was about Oz and it was bad."

Xander and Willow sighed in unison, and then laughed in surprise. "I'm glad," Xander murmured. "Well, you know, not glad about..." He grinned. "Just glad you're not dying. I don't have to tell that to you, do I?"

Willow smiled softly, alone in her room. "No, Xand, I know." She looked at the clock again, jumping out of bed. "Xander, I gotta go. I need to shower and change and stuff before Oz gets here."

This time his sigh didn't leave his throat. "Oh. Okay. Later, Wills. Call me when... Never mind, I'll just see you at the library later."

"Later, Xander."

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May 18, 2001

"So, Willow, I wanted to see you again. I know I usually come by every day,  but I've been having trouble this last week. Oh, not trouble trouble like Buffy and Killers kind of trouble, but trouble getting here." He looked down at his hands and then back up, smiling slowly. "Well. You look good. Your hair is all... shiny and...red."

Tears filled his eyes. "I hate not being able to really talk to you. You know me better than I know myself. You're supposed to be filling in my sentences.... Anyway, Giles got a bunch of those books that he wanted, and he thinks there really might be something to these ones." He looked away from her eyes at the hollowness of the lie. No one really thought that except him. Everyone hoped, but no one was so sure.

Meeting her dull green orbs again, he smiled shakily. With a startled gasp he leaned forward.

"Willow?!"

A flicker of life found it way into her eyes. No longer on his forehead or the wall, they rested on his face and Xander found himself grinning broadly, leaning forward to scoop her slight figure in his arms.

She rested in his embrace limply, not hugging him back. Pulling away, he looked at her in confusion. "Willow? I thought...I thought I heard your voice. I thought you were looking at me." He settled her back in her chair, his hopes falling so quickly that he wondered if they had been imagined.

Willows' eyes stayed on him as he sat down across from her. He tilted his head to the side, his voice becoming hoarse. "Willow... I can hear you.. Oh, God, am I going to be your next roommate? What's doing this?!"

He took her hand, his eyes pleading with hers to tell him something. Again, her voice rang out. Not through the room, like he would have hoped, but in his head, sounding small and uncharacteristically confused.

< Xander, you can hear me? > He nodded, his eyes focused on her face, anxiously awaiting the briefest flash of a smile.

< Oh, Xander. I want to help you. I can't... move. I can't think right.  Something is wrong with me, isn't there? Nobody can hear me. Nobody pays attention. You're the only one who knows that... I'm here. I'm here,  Xander? > Her voice sounded sleepy and he nodded again, frantically, trying to wake that voice up.

"You're here, Wills! You're right here and I can hear you and it's going to be fine." He tried to remain calm, but his heart raced and he clenched at her hand. "Stay with me."

< Xander... I need you. I forget things so easy. You look like Heaven. You know I'm here, > she murmured, reassuring herself as much as him. <There's something that I found that they don't... Xander? Xander!?> The voice was quickly becoming a scream and Xander broke out in a cold sweat, terrified.

< Don't wanna leave! Wanna talk to you, Xander. I'm so tired. > The dead look in her eyes replaced any spark of life that had been there seconds ago and Xander let go of his tears, unashamedly crying in front of his best friend. His Willow.

**********

Xander walked quietly into the library, wrapped in his thoughts. A look of despair had finally over come his constant look of hope, and when Giles caught sight of his face, he stood in apprehension. Taking off his glasses and rubbing them nervously with his handkerchief, he watched Xander sit heavily in a chair at the table and stare off into space.

"Xander?" The question trembled.

Xander looked up, seemingly surprised at Giles' presence. "Giles. I'm glad you're here."

Giles sat down next to him. "Yes?" he asked cautiously.

Xander sighed. "Willow talked to me today." The words came out flat, without inflection. His chin quivered, and as Giles peered closer, he saw a redness around Xander's eyes that was the unmistakable sign of tears.

Finally understanding Xander's words, he sat upright like a bolt. "She what!? Xander, this is wonderful news!"

Xander looked at him levelly. "Is it?"

Giles deflated, sitting back again. "Well, isn't it?" he countered.

"No. Because I heard her voice in my head. She told me," his voice became shaky, "that she can't think right. She told me that there was something she knew that no one else did. She told me..." his voice broke. "...She told me that I looked like Heaven because I could see and hear her."

Giles wondered vaguely if his eyes could get any wider. His mouth hung open, slack, in shock. He took Xander's hand gently. "Xander, are you sure of this?"

Xander's hand was clammy and almost lifeless, but he squeezed, grateful to have someone to lean on. "Yes, I'm sure. She looked at me, Giles. I mean, really *looked.* Her eyes weren't on my forehead or above me or looking through me. They followed my face, they looked into my eyes." He laughed bitterly. "Am I going crazy? Please tell me that this could be real. I don't... I don't know what I want you to tell me."

Giles found his mouth dry and he licked his lips. "No, this is the Hellmouth. This is quite possible."

Xander met his eyes again, slowly brightening with optimism. "So... You think that maybe she's in there? You finally think that too?" Giles winced at the reference to his lack of faith for the past two years, but Xander didn't notice and went on. "I don't even know that this is a good thing. I can't even be happy about it, because whatever is keeping her like that is hurting her. You should have heard her voice. She sounded so tired, so terrified. I wanted to take her home with me; I hated-- *hated*-- leaving her. I can't even describe..." He trailed off and looked at Giles pleadingly.

"Maybe not, but I can imagine," Giles told him softly. "Not that I want to. And, Xander, though she may be suffering *something,* we're not sure what yet, so we can be hopeful until we find the answers we're looking for, or a spell to cure her." He looked down at his shoes and then back up. Almost an afterthought, he added, "Or both."

Xander clenched his hands together tightly, watching his fingertips grow white. "Giles," he asked with barely concealed despair, "Do you really think, really think, that there are answers?"

Giles had nothing to say.

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July 2, 1999

The group was assembled in the library in their usual spots. Xander and Cordelia on one side of the table, Cordelia shooting hateful little glances his way; Willow and Oz on the other, holding hands; Buffy at the end, smiling happily and Giles standing. The Watcher took off his glasses and started cleaning them. Buffy immediately straightened.

"I've found us in the middle of something and I'm ashamed to say that I didn't expect it. Of course, there was no way of anticipating this demon's return to this dimension, but I should have looked into it, planned what our actions would be were it to happen."

Willow leaned forward, looking at him with large eyes. She gripped Oz's hand and he leaned forward with her compliantly. "Giles, what are you trying to tell us?"

He cleared his throat. "A demon named Forshoph has arrived, I believe. He had been banished to another realm over one hundred years ago, and I'm still quite flummoxed at how he managed to escape, but he's quite dangerous." He cringed, hating himself for the words he had to speak. "He kills Slayers. When he wants one, he finds them and makes them weak and when they are at their weakest state, he kills them." Giles stopped abruptly, not wanting to go on.

Buffy's voice was a whisper. "How does he kill them, Giles?"

"He eats out their hearts and sucks on the meat of their ribs. He has killed twenty-two Slayers since his creation. He has only fought twenty-three."

Willow brightened at that, wanting to take the frightened looks off the faces of the Slayer and her Watcher. "Well, twenty-two out of twenty-three. Buffy has always been the exception to the rule!" Oz and Xander nodded, agreeing. Buffy looked at Giles with veiled eyes.

"The other," he managed with difficulty, "died before he could kill her. They are of no attraction to him once dead."

The room was silent.

CONTINUE