After Life

We pick up pretty much where we left off last week, with Slayerettes freaking out and trying to find the returned but lost Buffy. They've decided she must be at home, and are headed there, despite the last demon stragglers still on the streets. "I'll get us there fine," Xander declares. "My senses are primed for danger--" Senses Man breaks off with a girlie shriek as the demon bikers they just walked past race through them and on down the street. Anya comforts him that at least the bikers almost hit him on the way out of town. Willow is still caught back on fretting about Buffy, who was not, to put it mildly, herself. "I think we screwed it up," Anya contributes with her usual cheer and comfort. "She's broken." Willow objects: "She's not broken! She's just disoriented from being tormented in some hell dimension! We don't even know how much time has passed there for her! It's not something you just get over. Oh my god, what if she never gets over it?" Anya: "And you think of this now?"

Fortunately, Broken Buffy is in good hands; Dawn has managed to guide her still not-doing-the-talking-thing sister home. [roll credits in a truly weird scene break] The house is dark when they come in. "It's different," Buffy observes. Dawn hastily explains about the decorating changes the follow when two witches move in (seems a lot like my place, actually -- little tables, candles, and a latest-generation iBook that I have no idea how Willow could afford). Buffy is actually pretty disinterested in all this -- even as Dawn is talking, Buffy moves silently up the stairs. Dawn gets her to the bathroom, to change clothes and start the cleaning-up process, which Buffy acquiesces to docilely, despite Dawn's efforts to joke. As she starts to button Buffy's shirt, she sees the condition of Buffy's hands -- torn and bloody. Buffy refuses to let her treat them, wandering back out of the room and into Joyce's -- now Tara and Willow's. "But now that you're here, we'll have to figure out something to do," Dawn stutters. She's still trying to get Buffy to talk, but Buffy only asks, "What else is different?" Dawn sucks it up and tells her Giles left, but they'll call him and he'll come right back. "What?" Buffy asks, and has problems articulating the rest of the question: "What will you say to him?"

Before Dawn can answer, a noise downstairs startles both girls. It's Spike, bursting in the front door and yelling frantically for his runaway babysitee. "Thank god," he says as Dawn comes down the stairs. "You scared me half to death. Or, more to death." In the manner of big brothers and fathers everywhere, assured that Dawn is alive and well, Spike begins enumerating the various graphic ways he's going to kill her. Dawn just tells him, "Look." Spike looks, and takes the pale form moving towards him for the BuffyBot -- until he remembers the shape the Bot was left in an hour earlier. He stops dead, his expression torn between shock, disbelief and utter joy, as Buffy walks down the steps to her sister's side. Dawn tries to explain that Buffy's not in the best shape, but Spike's not actually registering much of anything past 'alive'. "What did you do?" he finally asks, quietly. Wonderingly. Dawn hastily denies any involvement. Buffy still hasn't said anything; she's managed to finish buttoning her shirt and is huddled in on herself, looking at Spike. He notices her hands, and, as she tries to hide them, puts the pieces together. "Clawed her way out of a coffin, isn't that right?" Buffy nods, without looking at him. "Yeah. That's what I had to do." He nods understandingly: "Done it myself." He finally seems to get a grip and motions Buffy down the steps, hovering near her but not actually touching her after one hastily-aborted attempt. Dawn heads off for medical supplies as Spike settles Buffy on the couch, sitting on the coffee table opposite her with her hand in his. Buffy lets him, as she refused to allow Dawn. "How long was I gone?" Buffy asks. "147 days yesterday," Spike replies instantly. "148 today. Except today doesn't count, does it?" His voice almost breaks, but he recovers fast. "How long was it for you where you were?" Buffy thinks a moment. "Longer."

Dawn reappears with the bandages, but before Spike can start work, the door bursts open under a flood of noisy, relieved, overwhelming Slayerettes. Spike stands and strides out the door behind them; no one notices in their absolute focus on Buffy. Dawn demands to know how they knew, and gets overrun with Slayerettes again. "Hey!" she finally raises her voice. "Back off! What did you do?" she asks, unconsciously echoing Spike. Willow tells them about the spell, and Buffy finally speaks up to assure them she's fine. But she can't tell them what it was like, and Xander assures her that she doesn't have to. An argument begins to ramp up on what Buffy wants and should have, until Dawn smacks them down again. "Right," Willow nods nervously. "We should just be quiet and let Buffy tell us what she needs." Buffy thinks about it again, like it takes effort. "Sleep. I need to sleep." Willow jumps all over that, "But, Buffy.. Be happy. We got you out. We really did it." Buffy just reiterates, "I'm tired," and moves quietly up the stairs to her room. "She's fine!" Willow asserts desperately. "She used to go to bed all the time!"

Xander and Anya leave together, and Anya isn't buying the whole 'she's fine' thing. Xander tries to reassure her, and himself, that it'll just take a little time. "Oh, yeah," Anya agrees. "Six or seven days, that's all you need to get over eternal hell experiences." But before they can get far from the house, they spot the dark figure leaning against the lurking tree, his back to them. Which gives Spike just enough time to swipe the tears off of his face before Xander comes striding over, being macho boy and telling Spike, "I hope you're not going to start your little obsession now that she's around again." Spike's response is eminently reasonable -- he grabs Xander by the collar and slams him up against the tree. "You didn't tell me! You brought her back and you didn't tell me!" he accuses, in what might have been a snarl if it wasn't for the way his throat is all choked up. "I worked beside you all summer!" Xander actually seems to feel a little guilty at the naked emotion in Spike's face and voice, and tries to stutter an explanation. Spike cuts him off before he gets very far. "Listen... I figured it out. Maybe you haven't, but I have. Willow figured there was a chance that she'd come back wrong! So wrong that you'd have... That she'd have to get rid of what came back, and I wouldn't let her. Any part of that was Buffy, I wouldn't let her. And that's why she shut me out." Xander shakes his head, genuinely not believing Spike. "Willow wouldn't do that. You're just covering. Don't tell me you're not happy." Spike can't deny that and doesn't try; he just walks off. "The thing about magic," he throws over his shoulder, as he gets on his stolen motorcycle, "there's always consequences. Always."

Buffy stands alone in the darkness of her room, as Willow returns from calling Giles (who is on his way back; his reaction consisted largely of repetitions of 'dear lord' and Willow thinks she actually heard him clean his glasses) and she and Tara get ready for bed. Willow is still being Happy, It's All Fine Girl, but Tara tells her she doesn't have to put up a front with her. Willow admits she's a little worried, especially after what Angel was like when he came back from Hell. The two snuggle into bed. "If things did go right, don't you think she'd be... happier?" Willow asks in a little-girl voice. "Sure, she is," Tara tells her. Then, "You thought she'd say 'Thanks'. Be more grateful." Willow: "Would I be a terrible person if I said yes?" Tara reassures her again, as Buffy gets up from where she's been sitting on her bed, still in darkness, and begins to wander her room. She finds photos of the Scoobies, and of her mom and sister, all over the room and surrounding her mirror. As she stares at them, and at herself, the faces change, become grinning skulls. She squeezes her eyes shut and when she opens them, the pictures are normal again. She stares silently at nothing.

The witches are sleeping peacefully when the glass in the picture above them suddenly explodes. They jolt upright and see Buffy standing at the foot of the bed, lost in shadows. "What did you do?" she demands coldly, as they stare in helpless, terrified silence. "Do you know what you did? You're like children. Your hands smell of death. Bitches. Filthy little bitches rattling the bones. Did you cut the throat? Did you pat its head?" She throws something else, beaks more glass. "The blood dried on your hands, didn't it? You were stained, you still are! I know what you did." Willow finally manages to lunge over and turn on the bedside lamp. She turns to confront Buffy -- and there's nothing there. Even the broken glass is gone. When they open Buffy's bedroom door, the room is dark, and Buffy is sound asleep. Thoroughly freaked, both girls have to agree they didn't dream it -- "Separate brains." Tara asks what the ghost-Buffy meant and Willow lies that she understood the words, but nothing else. Then they both gasp as something seems to race around inside the walls, rattling the pictures, a lump running up under the ceiling. "There's something in the house," Tara says in fear. Willow asks, "What is it after? Is it Buffy?" No answers being immediately preset, she heads for the phone to call Xander.

Who is asleep, but Anya isn't; in fact, she's trying to wake him up to keep her company in her insomnia, but it takes the phone to accomplish that. He reaches over her to answer it, and Anya gets up as a freaked Willow starts to explain what happened. Xander tries to follow her and tells her to get out of the house -- as Anya comes back in the room, her eyes white and a ghastly smile on her face. She laughs as she runs a knife down her cheeks cutting into the skin and leaving trails of blood behind. [Quick pause while I sit here and be totally creeped for a second. Okay.] Xander drops to phone to rush to her; as he snatches the knife away, she drops to the ground unconscious. Something moves away under the floor.

Everyone is outside and in the nice, bright sunlight the next morning (although Xander is significantly more freaked than Anya). Nothing about the visitations make sense -- it happened in different places, where there weren't dead people. "I bet it's a hitchhiker," Anya offers; it seems when people cross dimensional walls, other things can take the chance to grab on and go with. "I think we shouldn't have brought Buffy back," Anya concludes. "We just kill the beastie and all is good," Willow tries to cheer them up. Buffy appears at the magical words 'killing something.' Anya lets the whole 'you brought it back from hell thing slip,' but Buffy doesn't visibly react. Hesitantly, like it's very hard to put words and thoughts together, Buffy tells them what happened to the photographs the previous night. "I just thought it was me. Going crazy." "You're fine," Willow tries to assure her. Xander's right there. "Yeah, we'll fix this, this haunting thing, and we'll still have you back, which is... so important." Buffy looks less than convinced, but says, "Let's get to work."

Which is, of course, researching possible hitchhikers, of which the list is varied and disgusting, including invisibility and altering perceptions. Dawn hovers around the edges, not really helping, and Buffy seems to be mostly just sitting, until she says, out of the blue, "I miss Giles." Willow tells her that he's coming back. "I know I'm a poor substitute, but until then, we'll get it done." Everyone nods and, in the silence, Buffy gets up, saying she needs to patrol. The others offer to go, but she heads off alone. "I'll be safe here with the others," Dawn calls at Buffy's oblivious back. "Don't worry about me." The voice is Dawn's, but her eyes are white, and a very un-Dawn-like smile curves her lips.

Buffy's patrol of the cemetery looks more like a bout of sleepwalking; she'd be easy prey for anything that jumped her. Back at the Magic Box, Anya returns from a coffee run, since research parties require copious amounts of caffeine. "Coffee, coffee, coffee, hot chocolate for Dawn -- you're too young for coffee." Dawn swings her head around, eyes still white. "Idiot," she snarls. "You can have my coffee," Anya blinks as the others all turn to look at the girl. "All of you did it," she continues. "You stupid children. Did you think the blood wouldn't reach you? I smell the death on you. Look at what you've done!" Then she opens her mouth and spits fire at them, setting the books on table as she collapses to the floor. The thing races away under the floor as Xander puts out the fire and Tara cradles Dawn. "Did I look like that?" Anya asks, hovering. "I hope I didn't look like that." Willow: "No, I'm sure you looked really glamorous cutting up your face." Dawn regains consciousness, not really remembering what happened. The other reassure her, not aided by the fact that the thing is gone again. Anya points out, "Evil things have plans. They have things to do."

Of course, some have better plan than others. Spike's plans, for example, seem to involve endlessly pacing around his underground lair, slamming his fist into walls, and laughing semi-hysterically when it makes his hand look like Buffy's. But he reverts to Action Vamp when he hears the door above him open; he grabs a sword and heads up to see who his visitor is. It's Buffy, and his face reverts to Sympathetic and Concerned Spike. "You should be careful," he says conversationally. "You never know what kind of villain's got a knife at your back." He gestures with the knife, and Buffy observes, "Your hand's hurt." Spike shrugs: "Same as you." Cue awkward silence. Spike tries to crack a joke, gets only silence from Buffy, then gets her to sit down. He sits opposite her, a few feet away, and just starts talking, as much to himself as to her. "I do remember what I said. The promise. To protect her. If I'd have done that, even if I didn't make it, you wouldn't have had to jump. But I want you to know I did save you. Not when it counted, of course, but after that. Every night after that. I see it all again, I do something different... faster. More clever. Dozens of times, lots of different ways. Every night I save you." Buffy just listens, her face blank.

The gang is still haunting the magic shop as Dawn begins to break. Xander takes advantage of a moment alone with Tara to ask her about what Spike said earlier that night about spells and consequences. "I was just wondering... did you know that this might happen?" Tara denies it instantly, but Xander presses, "Do you think... Could someone have known?" Tara defends Willow, of course, and before Xander can go any further, Willow shouts in discovery. "This thing, it's not a demon that we let out. It's a demon that we made." She explains that the spell created a being, as side effect. "The world doesn't like you getting something for free, and we asked for this huge gift -- Buffy. And the world said fine, but if you get that, you have to get this, too -- the demon." [As every Wiccan in the room screams, "Duh!" Congratulations, Willow, you just discovered threefold law. < rolling eyes > Sorry, moving on....] Anya points out, "Technically, that's not a price. That's a gift with purchase." Willow says the demon is only halfway here -- its consciousness is here, but its body isn't, so it has to use the Slayerette's, like Anya and Dawn, or at least copy them, as it did with Buffy. Problem: it's linked to the spell; to send it away, they have to nullify the spell. Dawn instantly freaks out at the very concept of negating he spell and sending Buffy back. "If you think you can bring her back to me and then take her away again.. No. That's worse than if you never brought her back at all. You can't mess with people's lives this way!" Willow tells her they'll come up with another way, and finds one. "It's temporary. It's going to dissipate." The only way for it to survive on this plane, she says, is for it to kill the subject of the original spell; i.e., Buffy. Xander's eyes go white and his voice goes creepy. "Thanks for the tip," he tells them, then collapses as the familiar demonic lump glides away under the floor.

Completely oblivious, Buffy heads into her bedroom, before she becomes aware of her visitor. She tries the kicky-fighty, with a singular lack of success; she can't hit the mist, but it can hit her, all the way across the room. "Did it tell you you belonged here?" it rasps evilly. "Did it say this was your home? Were you offered pretty lies, or did they even give you a choice?" The Slayerette cavalry is on it's way, urging Xander to drive faster, as Willow and Tara work on a spell back at the magic shop, trying to make the beastie solid. They hold hands and chant, "Child of words, hear thy makers. Child of words, we entreat. With our actions, did we make thee. To our voices, wilt thou bend." No effect yet; Buffy's still getting tossed around, but they keep going, as Buffy pulls an ax from under her bed. She swings helplessly at it as it continues to taunt, "You won't even disturb the air when you go." Dawn, Anya and Xander race into the room and Buffy yells at them to get out. Across town, Tara finds herself chanting alone; Willow's head is thrown back, and a golden light descends around her. Suddenly, her eyes fly open; they're dead black as she says one word: "Solid." So mote it be. The demon suddenly coalesces into reality; it and Buffy struggle over the ax before the demon knocks first the ax, then Buffy, away. But Buffy makes it back to her feet, ax in hand, and swings once. The demon's head rolls on the ground; end of threat. "That's probably the sort of thing I'm not supposed to see, right?" Dawn asks from the circle of Anya and Xander's arms.

Daylight at last, and Dawn heads off for school. Buffy chases after her, lunchbag in and, for a moment at least, everything is blessedly normal. Well, Buffy's trying real hard to be normal at least, if not entirely convincingly. Dawn hugs her and asks, "Are you doing okay?" Buffy grimaces. "I'm going to start charging money for everyone who asks me that." Dawn reminds her it's because everyone cares about her, and missed her. "But it's okay, now that they can see you being happy. That's all they want." She leaves, and Buffy stares thoughtfully after her. She appears at the magic shop a little while later, and walks purposefully over to her friends. "Look, you guys, I, um... There's this thing... so I'm just going to say it. You brought me back. I was in, uh... I was in Hell. I, um... I can't think to much about what it was like, but it felt like the world abandoned me there. And then suddenly, you guys did what you did. And the world came rushing back. Thank you. you guys gave me the world -- I can't tell you what it means to me. And I should have said it before." Willow hugs her first, then Xander gets in on it. Buffy stares out from between their embraces, and squeezes her eyes shut against tears.

She wanders out to the back alley a little later, looking depressed, to find Spike lurking there, hiding from the sun in the shadows. "Aren't you leaving a hole in the middle of some soppy group hug?" he cracks. She doesn't respond, just tells him, "I just wanted a little time alone." He can take a hint; he tries to leave, but is blocked in by the sun. "It's okay," she says. "I can be alone with you here." "Thanks ever so," he cracks, but looks back at her. "Buff... Slayer? Are you okay?" She shrugs. "I'm here. I'm good." He hesitates, then walks back over to sit beside her again, not buying it. "If you're in pain, or if you need anything, or if I can do anything for you..." Buffy: "You can't." Spike: "Well, I haven't been through a hell dimension as of late, but I do know a thing or two about torment--" She cuts him off quietly: "I was happy."

She doesn't look at him as she goes on. "Wherever I was, I was happy. At peace. I knew that everyone I cared about was all right. I knew it. Time... didn't mean anything. Nothing had form, but I was still me, you know? And I was warm, and I was loved, and I was finished. Complete. I don't understand theology or... dimensions -- any of it, really -- but I think I was in Heaven." Spike stares silently, completely lost for words, as she goes on, still almost emotionlessly, "And now I'm not. I was torn out of there, pulled out by my friends. Everything here is hard and bright and violent.... Everything I feel, everything I touch.... This is hell. Just getting through the next moment, and the one after that, knowing what I've lost...."