Chapter Eight - Healing
Willow stepped into the room, greeted by the quiet stares of the two couples and single Watcher in the room. "Hi, guys." She stood stiffly, fearing the angry outburst she might very well deserve. Buffy lifted her hand from the bed in greeting, "Hey Will. Bring any food?"
She smiled, slightly more relaxed now that she'd been forgiven by at least one of them. Not to mention the one that meant the most. "Sorry Buffy. Didn't someone bring something up?"
"Yeah. Yucky soup stuff and blood." Spike lifted his cup slightly, the dark liquid it contained staining the corner of his mouth. "Red."
"Hey. Guys, I'm really sorry about the whole saving you, not saving you thing. I-I don't know what I was thinking, I mean, I do know what I was thinking, I just-"
"Will," Buffy cut in, "We understand. And it's okay now."
Grateful, Willow tried to make further amends to the others. "I promise cookies. And cupcakes. With icing! Also fudge!....If anyone here eats fudge."
Giles spoke up suddenly, "I do, actually." From the stares he got from the people around the room, he added under his breath, "Not that that's important really."
"Just the cure would be nice," Robin inputted from Faith's bedside.
Blushing, Willow hurriedly agreed, "Of course, that's what I'm here for."
"Actually, I wouldn't mind cookies," the dark Slayer spoke up from her bed, breaking her silence, meeting Willow's eyes, and she knew, that in Faith's own little way, she'd been forgiven. Their gaze broke, and Faith glanced over at her former enemy, her Slayer sister, "God knows we've lost enough weight just lying here, wasting away like this."
The light banter continued, to Giles' relief. A calm familiarity had fallen over the room, and he found himself thinking, Now all we need is Xander to make some idiotic comment that we can all pretend is funny to save the poor boy's ego, and-what am I thinking? We've more important things to think about. At the same time, watching the people in the room smiling and being happy kept his mouth shut, letting them bask in the temporary glow of safety for as long as it would last.
Pink cheeks brightened Buffy's face, "I can't wait till we can go out again and kill something." Her eyes sparkled at the thought. Always knew she liked her calling more than she'd admit.
"Me too," Spike agreed. When Robin gave him a skeptical glance, his eyebrow arched to meet the look, "What, the souled vamp can't have any fun no more? Just 'cause I feel guilty 'bout it, doesn't mean I don't enjoy it. Hello? Demon here? Drink blood? Evil killer?"
Laughter drifted from the doorway, where Dawn leaned, "Evil killer? You keep thinking that, Big Bad."
His glare only served to fuel her merriment, bringing smiles to the faces around her. "Well, Fred asked me to tell you that Kennedy's awake," she said, turning her attention to Willow, who was instantly flustered under the inquisitive gazes of her friends.
"Why would you need to know if Kennedy's awake?" Buffy wondered.
Dawn jumped in before Willow could say anything. Teenagers. "Willow zapped Kennedy when she tried to get out of the whole 'no more super powers for you' deal."
Willow managed a weak smile before bolting out the door at the sight of the small smiles on her friends' faces. They were happy about it?
As soon as she was out of earshot, Buffy smiled, "I never did like that girl. Her bitching just never ended."
"Kennedy?" She was slightly ashamed to hear the meekness in her voice, pushing it out to uncover the independent, powerful woman she'd become. She was a sixteen year old any longer. At the same time she wondered why she felt she had to hide the gentler, quieter side from her strong girlfriend, wasn't a relationship about letting go of your vulnerabilities? Any relationship really; her friends had seen both extremes, meek and subdued Willow as well as crazy, black-haired, destroy the world Willow, and they accepted them both, were friends with the in-between Willow. She cleared her throat, "Kennedy?"
Kennedy lifted her head, dark eyes flashing with accusation. Suddenly the anger faded away, filled with a worn acceptance. Willow motioned to one of the doctors, who stepped forward, syringe in hand. Flinching a little as he drew blood, Kennedy allowed him to take a tube full of dark red blood. Nodding to the waiting doctor, he sealed the tube within an envelope, stepping out of the room to deliver it. "You going to let me go now? Now that you've got what you want?"
"Yeah."
"Good. These chains? So not a good look for me."
"Um, Angel says you can't go to the medical wing anymore," she tried to make it sound as light-hearted as possible, "You know, he's being all protective of Buffy and all."
"Yeah. Sure. Whatever you say Willow."
Giles waited patiently, book in hand, seated in the corner of the room. The six people sat, or lay, as the case might be, silently awaiting Willow's arrival. The doctor came in first, setting the vial down on the side table, checking the patients' vitals before leaving the room as silent as it was when he came in. Spike stared at the dark liquid, before looking down at the hand he held, "That's Slayer blood that is."
"Why do we need Slayer blood? Aren't Faith and I enough?"
"I expect that's Kennedy's blood," Giles piped up, analytical as ever, "I suppose we'll be using it in the spell."
A white pentacle had been traced onto the floor, the thick lines clear and crisp, magenta candles sitting at each point. Willow came in, a tiny uneasy smile on her face. Seating herself in the center, she waved her hands for the others to join her. Giles watched as the two Slayers were carried to the floor, their thin hospital-like gowns betraying the fragility of their bodies. Directing them to their positions, Willow sat cross-legged, Dawn at the top point, the slayers at her side points, their loved ones on the final two. “Dawnie, could you hand me the vial?”
She uncorked it with unsteady hands, letting the dark liquid drip onto the white lines. Buffy watched, her hands gripping her candle tightly, as the blood spread to fill the pentacle. Willow nodded, almost imperceptibly, and the five people surrounding her struck their matches and lit the white taper, the fire the only light in the darkened room. Well, almost. Only moments after she started her chant, Willow’s body was illuminated by a strange light, growing stronger with every word. Once the light was blinding, it spread from her body, moving to fill the blood-marked lines, never losing its brilliance, never fading. It reflected against the lenses of Giles’ glasses, hiding his widened eyes from anyone who might see. It paused, just for a moment, at each point of the star before plunging into the people sitting there, their bodies filled with the same bright radiance as the origin, the witch.
The two slayers, filled with the white magick, looked ethereal, their skin glowing, eyes bright and shining. Gazing upon their faces, it was easy to believe they were angels, pure and innocent, free of the blood and ashes that stained their hands. The feeling of contentment reminded Buffy of heaven. That light, carefree feeling she’d searched for. It would hurt all the more when she fell...except, it wouldn’t. She’d found it, here, on this damned earth, in the arms of a vampire.
The light slowly started retreating, spilling back into the woman it came from, until the room was dark again, except for the flickering of the candles. Everyone was left silent, three chests heaving, taking in air like there was no tomorrow.
Spike was the first to move, taking Buffy into his arms, her lungs gasping for air. Despite her breathing problems, he was relieved to see the healthy glow of her skin, the clarity in her eyes, the strength in the hand he held. God, he missed her strength. Giles spoke lowly to Dawn, “Call for a doctor.” She left hurriedly, after taking one grateful glance at Willow and her sister.
Helping Buffy back onto the bed, she complained, “Can’t I just go already? I’ve been here long enough.” She winced, her strained voice betraying her.
“Not just yet, pet.”
She pouted, and he gave in to the temptation to taste that bottom lip. “Geez, could you guys get a room already?” Dawn’s teasing voice came from the doorway, a doctor already checking on Faith. Bouncing happily on her sister’s bed, she said, “I’m glad you’re back Buffy.”
“Me too.”
After nibbling on her lip for a moment, she asked, “When are we leaving?”
“As soon as we can. I think we’ll live in Cleveland. Now that there’s only me and Faith, it’s our duty, again, to guard the hellmouth.”
Satisfied for the moment, Dawn patted her sister’s hand, climbing off the bed. As she turned to leave, she said, a small smile at the corner of her mouth, “Buffy? When we get there? If you guys are going to be like this, I want a room far, far away from yours. Get that? Far, far away.”
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