When She Was Wrong
J. Travis

Disclaimer: I own nothing, Joss, ME, etc., own all, and I'm almost done with the toys.

Note: Thank you, Linne, you are the best Red Pen Goddess around. For those interested, the knife in this fic is one that's been treated with a black coating and is frequently used in military special ops. Many collectors own them as well. The specific dagger I mention is an Italian make modeled after one my husband collected several years ago.

This chapter contains a major character death. You've been warned. Like the previous chapter, this one moves at a faster pace-it seemed action was necessary. There will be a short epilogue to follow, and I hope it clears up any questions you find you still have. Thanks to all those who have read, reviewed, encouraged and critiqued helpfully along the way.

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Tara and Spike hadn't spoken during the drive back to Sunnydale because he was still angry. When Giles finally reached them on the cell phone, Spike had grunted a few monosyllabic words at the Watcher before passing it to Tara. Clem was awake and safe, but there was no word on Buffy or Willow. Giles suspected Ethan had something to do with Buffy's disappearance after one of the Summers' neighbors was featured on the local news. The witness had seen a middle aged man leaving the home carrying a young woman. Giles also told Tara that all the Scoobies were wanted for questioning until Anya came up with a clever plan for dealing with them. He, Anya, and Xander went in to make statements, and the police were eager to accept their highly edited version of the truth. Anya had batted her eyes and explained that before everyone left the house last night, Buffy Summers had been complaining of a severe migraine and asked Tara Maclay to watch after Dawn Summers. Apparently, Anya lied further by saying that Tara had taken Dawn down to LA in hopes to catch up with the girl's father, but he wasn't in the country, and Dawn and Tara were due to return later in the evening. To cover up Ethan's involvement, Anya stated that Buffy was dating an older man much to the concern of her loved ones, and it was possible he'd convinced Buffy to leave town with him. Anya lied well. The police didn't bother to check up on the story, and everyone was in the clear. The officer on duty told Rupert, "It looks like a standard breaking and entering case then, sorry to have troubled you folks, but if you think of anything else, please let us know. Tell Miss Summers she'll need a copy of the report to file an insurance claim when she returns." Well, at least Sunnydale's finest were out of the picture.

Having arrived, Tara slipped quietly from the driver's seat and entered the store calling, "Mr. Giles?"

Anya squealed, "Tara! You guys are all right! Where's Spike?"

"Still in the car."

Xander volunteered to hurry the vampire while Anya briefed Tara on what their research had turned up, nothing. Giles waved and beckoned Tara to a pile of books asking, "Can you break through a ward?"

"Um...I don't know. Probably, but it will take some time."

"Which is something we simply do not have," Giles told her. "Can you sense when and where heavy magics are being used?"

Tara smiled brightly, "Yes, that won't be hard at all." Both Anya and Giles looked on the young woman with relief. "Do you remember the spell to locate demons? Well, if we alter the words a little, I can use the same spell to locate magic use and magical barriers on a map!"

"What can we do to help?"

"W-well, I'm not as experienced as Willow is, Anya, I'll need someone to ground me. She's powerful enough to do the spell without any help."

Spike, who was being shoved through the door by Xander, told her, "I'll do it, love."

She smiled softly in return and nodded. Giles, Xander and Anya scrambled for fresh supplies and a new map. When everything was ready, Tara and Spike stepped into the circle.

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Ethan had done it. The Slayer belonged to him, and her vacant eyes stared blankly into the distance as she awaited instructions. For a moment, the sorcerer thought he'd tell her to do something simple and pick someone's pocket or clean the basement, but he decided a more strenuous test was needed.

"Slayer, come here," he ordered the blankly staring woman, "we've got treats to get. I want you to get into Ripper's house and bring back my old mate's journals."

The Slayer turned to leave when Ethan called a reminder, "Don't let anyone see you. Kill whatever gets in your way. Oh, and don't forget, darling, I'll expect you back here in less than one hour. You and I are going to find your little witch friend if it kills you both." If he could control one powerful woman, why not two?

Returning to Sunnydale had been a hard decision for Ethan to make, and he'd initially wanted to help Rupert. But after the pounding he'd received for being the messenger, Ethan picked up his older and nastier habits, slipping into revenge and chaos like some women slip into a couture gown.

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"You are not allowed to interfere in the matter of the Slayer," the disembodied voice informed Vékell.

"Don't remind me," she snapped back angrily.

"Careful, child, I have no qualms about sending you down there to live as a human if you are that determined to argue with me."

"I just don't understand why I can't help them!"

"Your role comes soon," the mercurial voice said, "and then you shall have your chance to deal with Willow Rosenberg. See to it she is not allowed to affect what I have set into motion."

Vékell squared her shoulders and lifted her head, an act of defiance, "Well, at least you're accepting blame for this mess. It really was about time."

"Silence! You have always been insolent and capricious, Little One, you will not anger me further. Go now, and return when the situation is resolved."

"Very well."

"Return here to me," the voice added, "the very second your dealings are finished."

Vékell stamped her foot and shouted, "I heard you the first time!"

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Willow caressed the blackened dagger lovingly before turning to speak to Dawn. The knife, at least seven inches long and found in a speciality store, was wickedly sharp and thin. Perfect for slipping between someone's ribs, thought the witch. The teenager had no idea how lucky she was Willow wasn't using a dull blade which would've been more painful. If the girl scarred, it wouldn't be too much to worry about. Besides, scars were a moot point since Willow had every intention of returning to Doc's time and fixing what never should have happened.

"Dawn," she whispered, "it's time. Sleep."

The girl slid to the floor, and Willow levitated her to an empty table. She stroked Dawnie's cheek, smiled sadly, and promised the girl that everything would be fine; the witch ignored the uneasy skitter across her spine. Willow had created her own spell to open then close the gateway as soon as she entered lest anything else get through. After all, Willow considered herself a highly responsible witch. She'd also solved the problem of taking Dawn's blood with her to reopen it from the other side. Carefully, Willow swabbed rubbing alcohol across the young woman's arm and picked up her blade, kissing Dawn's cheek before making an eight inch long cut from Dawn's wrist to elbow. The gash bloomed red, and blood ran quickly into Willow's cube shaped containers. Each box, constructed by magic and softly glowing, would contain the necessary blood indefinitely. Willow allowed the girl to bleed until she had just under two pints to take with her. Dawn's face was growing ashen, and Willow knew she had to stop. She bound the girl's cut tightly and prayed her theories were correct.

After calling upon her power and saying the incantations, Willow Rosenberg took the first cube of blood and threw it to open a new gateway, black eyes gleaming with power. There was a blinding flash of indigo energy, and the witch stepped through the hollow. Dawn's wound began seeping through the coarse bandages.

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Tara and Spike concentrated on the task in front of them. The map, small but detailed, would provide more than enough information for the couple to locate the use of heavy magics. As Tara invoked the Goddess, Spike contemplated what their argument might mean for the two of them. Finally, she cast the sand over the map and brilliant specks of color and light glittered across the surface. In two areas, the magics used were extremely dark and abundant. There were also several smaller areas of dark and white magic that might have to be checked as well, Tara thought.

Giles leaned across the couple to read the street names down of the most likely candidates. When it was done, Spike let go of Tara's hands.

She looked at him wistfully, but he only shook his head gently. Clearing her throat first, Tara spoke, "I think we should go to these two areas first. What's this one? Oak and Maple?"

Xander answered, "That's where a lot of the project housing is in Sunnydale, but there are some abandoned apartments and warehouses over that way too."

Giles said, "What about Orange and Cherry Tree streets?"

Spike jumped at hearing the address. He asked, "You sure, Rupes?"

"Yes, why?"

"Harris, didn't that old goat live on Cherry Tree?"

"Old goat?"

"Stupid prat! Doc, you remember him, surely?" Spike rolled his eyes.

Xander's eyes widened, "Oh my, God, you don't think he's still alive? Maybe he's got something to do with this too?"

"Bugger that," Spike snapped, "that bastard's dead. Buffy threw him off a damn 150 foot tower."

"We stabbed him!"

"Not in the right place, git. His head hit that pavement and spattered like one of Gallagher's watermelons."

Giles intervened before things could get out of control, "Xander, you and Anya come with me. We'll take Oak and Maple while Tara and Spike investigate the other since he remembers the area. Hurry up!"

The group broke apart, and Spike headed for the nearest weapons chest. He regretted not having the time to teach Tara more self-defense than she'd learned the past summer, and he wondered if there'd be another chance. He hoped so because he found he needed this girl.

"You bring the urn, pet?" He asked quietly, trying to be soft unlike his harsh words in Clem's house.

"Yes, I left it in the car," she replied.

"What do you think we need it for?"

"I wish I knew, but we haven't got time to figure it out now."

"What's this?"

"What?

"You being so cold with me, love?"

"I thought you weren't speaking to me...I wanted...I wanted to give you some space," Tara answered.

Spike appraised her and said, "Shouldn'ta' been so cruel back at Clem's, Tara."

"No, you were right," tears welled in the woman's eyes. "Willow has choices, and she's made one that I can never forgive, not this time. I might have been able to let her back into my life, be friends with her, but not now."

"You forgive me?"

"Yeah, I needed to hear it," she answered.

Smiling, Spike pulled the young woman closer and held as tightly as he could without crushing her bones. "We'd better go, pet, time to fight. Others are gone already," he said.

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Dawn dreamed of places she'd been, but hadn't. People she knew, but didn't. She traveled lightly through dimensions, never stopping, hearing bare fragments, and understanding very little until she came to an abrupt halt. The world surrounding her was muted, but she could feel a comforting presence placing hands on her shoulders, speaking softly, singing in a long dead language. Dawn knew the words, and that felt normal. "But dreams will mess you up, kid, she heard someone else say. You gotta remember, they're not always dreams." She couldn't decipher the direction of the voice because it seemed to echo and bounce through a cavernous void, but it didn't matter for now because Dawn felt safe, warm, and loved. She was watching her family, including herself, and they were happily eating dinner together.

When she turned and saw Buffy, she screamed because Buffy was staring right at her.

"Dawn, remember what I said last time. It's still true, but tell them they have to let me go-I don't have a lot of time. I'm not sure who gave it to me, but don't worry. The others are coming to save you." Dawn felt Buffy's arms wrap around her in the all too familiar embrace; this was the Buffy Dawn loved and wanted in her life. She could feel her sister's lips on her forehead. "Dawnie, tell Tara that demonic energy put to good use can also turn on a person. Tell her I love you all, but don't listen to Willow-someone told me Willow might find a way out. I know you're safe from her for tonight. I'm not sure what it all means, but it's important. I do love you, you know, I love you more than anything, Dawn Summers. Be safe."

The dream vision faded and Dawn felt herself being pulled into a new dimension, and thoughts as ephemeral as cobwebs told her, "This is what it is to be The Key." She was real, but she was more real than anyone could possibly know. Dawn felt herself slide and step through the veils into so many worlds, some of which were the past and some were things that might come to pass. She even caught a brief glimpse of Willow stepping through the portal into Doc's past as she was pulled through time, and then further back, while Dawn was still The Key in its' purest form, she felt hot winds. She saw men, a girl, and she understood everything. Dawn knew what Buffy was and what her sister needed.

As Dawn astral planed from world to world, the blood soaked bandage slipped from her right arm, and the girl's heartbeat began to slow. Dawn was dying.

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Willow looked around Doc's house and smiled. She'd done it! Everything was clean, and the little desk calender was turned to May, 2001. When she'd started her research, Willow had assumed she would just follow Xander and Spike to Doc's, but the logistics weren't manageable. Instead, she'd casually asked Xander one evening where Doc lived, and Xander'd recounted the story of his and Spike's failure yet again. It was difficult to play the interested friend, but she muddled her way through the conversation. It was funny, really, because now she'd get to see the botch job her friend and that damned vampire were party to all those months ago. Willow stared at the magical cube containing Dawn's blood and whispered, "Soon, I promise. We'll get them both back."

'It can't be too long,' she thought, as she hid in the darkened kitchen pantry. Doc sat rocking in his chair, the same chair she'd tied Dawn to just a few hours ago. No, she corrected herself, almost a year later. Willow stifled her fit of sneaky giggles. Doc's chair squeaked, and she could hear turning pages and smell a fragrant tea in the air. It reminded her of jasmine and strawberries. When the knock at the door came, she jumped and almost smacked her head on the wall. It was time! Xander and Spike had arrived, and now they were talking. It seemed to go on for hours until a fight began. A part of her wanted to join the fight, kill Doc and stake Spike.

"You think only underworld bottom-feeders worship the Beast?" She heard Doc ask, and then came more sounds of fighting, yelling, and garbled shouts that sounded like they might be orders to grab something. It was over. Spike and Xander would leave believing they'd killed that fucking demon, but Willow would be here to finish the job for them. She slipped sideways between the door and its' frame, acutely aware of any possible noise she might make. Tiptoeing into the living room, Willow saw Doc's body on the floor, and she wondered what spell would be best for suffering.

"Suffering?" A woman's voice invaded her thoughts, "You stupid girl."

Whirling to face her accuser, the petite redhead saw the woman who'd stolen her friends the night before. "I'm going to kill him. You'd better get the hell out, or you're next," she snarled.

The woman smirked and raised her hand to her lips, shushing Willow. She spoke softly, words unheard by the witch. It didn't matter. If this bitch was helping Doc, she'd die even more painfully than he would. "I am Vékell," the being told her, "you trespass where you are not welcome or allowed. The past will not be altered for the whims of one very selfish child. Make your choice."

Willow sneered, her eyes flashing darkly, "Oh, really?" She stretched her hands forward and called upon the elements, black lightening streamed from her fingertips and bathed Doc's body. The witch continued to laugh, turning to grin at Vékell.

"The choice is made," the Power whispered, and Willow felt something like rubber move through her veins, and she doubled over in pain. Ignoring Vékell for the moment, she turned back to kill Doc, but he was already gone.

Vékell's lavender eyes flashed dangerously at the young witch, and she explained to Willow, "You are neither here nor anywhere. You may walk the worlds, always alone, but you will not be leaving. You can neither affect nor be effected by the worlds, Willow. I believe you would have been called a Shade by some, and those who are capable of seeing you, will think you're nothing other than one more lost, confused ghost." The room surrounding Willow Rosenberg faded, the colors leeched away by Vékell she assumed, but she didn't actually believe the other woman's words.

Smug, as always, Willow decided it was time to do battle. When she invoked Hecaté, Vékell smiled sadly and stepped through a portal taking Dawn's blood with her. Screaming at the portal to stay open, the witch watched in horror as it closed without a noise. Suddenly, she realized her magic really was useless, she couldn't touch anything, or feel even the warmth she'd noticed in the room earlier. Willow screamed, but there was no one around to hear.

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Giles, Xander and Anya had searched three apartment buildings and one warehouse, and Anya was starting to think Tara was just wrong. Maybe something happened to the spell, but trying to convince either Giles or Xander of that was like talking to ice cubes. Or was that a wall? She couldn't remember and didn't really care. By the fourth building, Anya Jenkins just wanted to go home, take a hot bath, and forget about Buffy Summers, Willow Rosenberg and Ethan Rayne. 'Let them have each other,' she wanted to yell at the two men, but she knew they wouldn't listen to her.

When they cautiously approached an rundown tenement that was supposed to be abandoned, Anya was surprised to see a slight figure open a door and shrink into the shadows. She nudged Giles and pointed at a rickety set of wooden steps, worn from years of use, bad weather, and lack of care. Through the glass set in the door, she could see the faint glimmer of light emanating from the darkness.

"Was that Buffy?" Xander asked her.

"I think so," she replied.

Giles informed Xander and Anya, "I don't want to go in without back-up. Let's find out if Tara and Spike have located Dawn before we do anything here. At least we know where Buffy is hiding, and if Ethan is there, it would be good to have Tara around. She might be able to block his spells."

"All right," Anya agreed, "Let's go."

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Spike peered through the windows of Doc's house and gasped, horrified; he could see Dawn lying prone on a table, blood dripping from the poor girl's arm. Without waiting to see that it was safe, he broke the window and leapt into the living room. Tara scrambled through the open space after him.

"Dawn!" Tara ran to the unconscious girl and patted her face, "Spike, I think she's lost a lot of blood."

"Be quiet, love!" Spike concentrated and listened for the teenager's heartbeat, then said, "She's alive, barely. Wonder where that bitch Red is? I can smell all over Dawn." The vampire growled, furious with Dawn's condition. If he ever got his hands on Tara's ex, he'd find a way to kill the bitch himself.

From behind the pair, Vékell spoke, "Don't move her." The Power approached and gently placed her hands on Dawn, holding Willow's magic cube before her. "Heal," Vékell whispered, "you're still needed." The blood appeared to drain from the cube; the cut disappeared, and Dawn's cheeks regained some of their natural coloring. Smiling, the outcast Power pulled Tara into an embrace as she said, "You'll remember, and when you do, use the urn. You are so important to me, Tara, like your mother, your grandmother, and all the women who came before you in the line." To Spike she said, "Take care of what's Mine, Vampire, and never forget who belongs to me."

She vanished before Spike could reply. Neither he nor Tara concerned themselves with the creature's words since Dawn was stirring and speaking. Her first words, "I know where to go, and Buffy said you'll know what to do," were the last words anyone expected.

"Be careful, Niblet," Spike told her, "You're still weak as a kitten, and I don't fancy carrying you all around all night. Those legs of yours'll keep me off my balance." His words were spoken fondly, and Dawn gave him a weak smile in return.

"Dawnie, what do you mean?"

"We have to get to Giles as fast as possible." Dawn leapt from the table, fairly well recovered and ready to work.

"But where's Willow?" Tara wanted to know.

Dawn sighed but answered, "I'm sorry, Tara, I think Vékell had to kill her-something happened. I just...I don't know exactly what."

Tara's face was filled with grief, but she took a deep breath and calmed herself before speaking, "I was so afraid of losing her... But I lost her a long time ago because she pushed me away, and then I moved on without her." Sobs filled the room, "I didn't want her dead!"

Spike gathered Tara and Dawn close to him, "I know, pet, and there'll be time to grieve later. Dawn and I need you. We need you here with us-strong, ready to fight. We'll worry about Red after we've dealt with Buffy..." His words trailed away in a whisper. As much as he loved Tara, he understood her feelings because he too dreaded Buffy's death. "You don't ever really stop loving a person-even when you hate what she became."

Tara nodded. Dawn hugged the witch and vampire more tightly saying, "We've really got to go, guys. I'll explain on the way."

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Call it serendipity or fate, Giles didn't care, but he'd never found himself more grateful or relieved to see three people in his life-even that damned vampire. Just as he'd pulled up to the curb in front of Doc's, Tara, Spike and Dawn walked out of the house. They were clinging to one another fiercely, and the young women were crying. Spike's face held a look of utter fury and determination. No one had to say, "Get in the car," or, "We really must be going," because the little group was already headed straight for Xander's' car. Spike yanked the back door open and allowed Dawn and Tara to climb in next to Anya who, in deference to Spike, got out and sat up front with Xander and Giles. It was a strange sight to watch these people move so fluidly, almost as one.

"Rupes? What's the news?"

Giles filled in as many details as he could and listened patiently to Dawn's story. As the young woman revealed her dreams, Tara startled, thinking of her own nightmares that seemed a lifetime ago.

"It was Buffy! My sister, hello, don't you think I'd recognize my sister?" She snapped at both Giles and Xander who wanted to make the case that Dawn might have seen something evil. "I'd like to say that everything is gonna be great," she said forcefully, "but the real Buffy told me to let go. If I can do it again, you can too." Dawn's words invoked Giles' anger. It was horrible to think that Buffy was never really back to begin with, and when Dawn explained that she understood what Buffy had become, the Watcher nearly lost his mind with rage and grief. Xander, as usual, didn't comprehend the situation.

"So, she's the Slayer? She's always been the Slayer," the young man yelled, "We just have to find a way to help Buffy!"

"She's not just the Slayer, Xander," Dawn patiently explained, "that's all she is. Someone created the first Slayer-it wasn't some higher power either! A group of men forced demonic energy into a girl...it was horrible." Dawn began crying, "She was alone and afraid, and no one remembers her name. You ought to know, you've met the First Slayer! When Willow brought Buffy back...she screwed up royally, majorly. Buffy's soul is trapped inside that thing. The outside? It's nothing now...just demonic." The girls voice wavered and fresh tears poured from her eyes, "You think I want Buffy to die?"

Tara put her arms around the crying young woman, "I know, sweetie, none of us wants Buffy to die."

Giles interrupted, "What can we do? Tara, how do we use the urn?"

"Vékell said I'd know what to do when the time comes."

"You'll remember, love," Spike told the witch, "it'll happen when it needs to."

"Or we'll all die when Buffy decides to pull our entrails through our noses," Anya sniped.

"Anya! Not, helping!" Xander's voice cut through the din, "Tara what would Willow do?"

"I think we already know what Willow would do-try to kill Dawn, go back a year or so and 'fix' the problem," Tara answered quietly. "Willow's way isn't mine."

"So, we're just back at the beginning?"

"I didn't say that, Xander," said Tara. "You're looking for an answer that saves everyone, but that's not always possible."

Dawn choked back her tears to say, "Tara's right."

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Ethan Rayne stared down into the vacant eyes of the Slayer and asked, "Need anything, love?"

"No," Buffy's wooden reply echoed throughout the basement.

"I think I prefer, 'No, sir,' my dear," said Ethan. He was relishing this game of control.

"No, sir," Buffy told him.

"Excellent. You realize, these journals are really quite amusing."

Buffy didn't respond and Ethan placed a hand on her shoulder, "Yes, sir, is the appropriate response, Miss Summers."

"Yes, sir."

"Would you like to know how Ripper felt when you died?" Ethan had to admit, he was curious to know if any feeling remained in the Slayer, but Buffy gave him no answer. "Miss Summers, I would appreciate it if you could access your memories, the person you were before-tell me how she would've felt."

"Yes, sir. She's still here, listening, buried away and she already knows how Giles felt when she died."

"You think?" Ethan Rayne sincerely doubted old Ripper had shared all his feelings with the young woman. Instead, he told Buffy, "You see, lovely child, he was destroyed. Yes, your dear Giles was devastated and only wanted to escape Sunnydale after your death. He might've done it too had the adorable Miss Rosenberg not seen fit to pull you from the heavens." The sorcerer laughed mirthlessly, "When Ripper and I played together, he never once mentioned a desire for family or friends, but in this last book, he writes of you as though the daughter of his own flesh was dead. Poor old Rupert, my mate must've cried rivers when he realized what had been done to you... And now, sweet, I own you."

"Yes, sir," replied Buffy. Ethan laughed again then told the Slayer to eat and get some rest. They'd be leaving town soon.

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Outside the dilapidated building, Tara and the others outlined a plan for getting inside quickly and unseen. The witch recalled a cloaking spell she'd once used when she believed she was a demon, but she wasn't sure she could use it on such a large group of people. Spike, for his part, sat in the car arguing with Dawn and demanding she remain in the vehicle. In the end, Anya volunteered to stay with the pouting teenager, and Xander agreed to provide back-up for Tara while Giles and Spike dealt with Buffy. Just as they were getting ready to go inside, Tara hugged Dawn and realized exactly what she had to do.

"We've got to get inside before sunrise for starters, but I know how to use the urn," the earnest witch told the group somberly. "Just trust me."

"Right then, pet, we go now."

"You and Mr. Giles just keep Buffy away from me," answered Tara. "If anything happens, you're going to have to take Dawn and run for it, Spike. Promise you'll take care of her?"

"Already made that promise, love, and nothing will happen to you. Not to any of us, not this time," Spike's words were grim.

"Then it's time."

Tara grabbed the urn and forced herself to walk into the dark building, a death march, she thought. She gave Dawn one last look and wave, the girl nodded her understanding in return.

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"Well, well, well, pet, I think you and I have a bit of company. What would you say to tearing Ripper apart?" Ethan grinned toothily down at Buffy.

"Yes, sir."

"Good, girl. I knew you were just right for the job, and when this is over, perhaps we can celebrate." His words meant nothing to the Slayer, but inside, the tiniest bit of Buffy that remained raged against Ethan Rayne.

The door opened, and Ethan laughed when Rupert, Spike, Tara, and Xander entered the room. For what seemed hours, no one moved or spoke until Ethan shouted, "KILL THEM ALL!" The Slayer launched herself at William the Bloody.

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It was blinding and bloody brilliant, Spike thought, as the first solid round kick threw his body into a wall, dust flowed heavily across the room. From the corner of his eye, he saw Tara grab Xander and run to the opposite side of the room, as far from the fight and Ethan as she could get herself. If she was safe, he'd be happy to battle Buffy into the next thousand years.

"Couldn't get enough of old Spike? Eh Slayer?" He taunted her, trying to find the rhythm to a dance that wasn't happening. Buffy turned from him, her moves precise and machine-like, to go after Giles.

"Buffy, please listen," the Watcher pleaded, "we can help you." Still, no answer came from Buffy's lips.

"Bugger this!" Spike shouted to Giles, "You'd better hit that bitch, mate!" He was already running to grab at the Slayer from behind.

She spun and slammed a rapid succession of punches into the vampire's face; he somehow managed to roll away from the stake she was holding, barely. While her moves were incredibly deadly, they lacked the passion and fire he'd loved in Buffy so much. This creature wasn't Buffy; it was a monstrous fighting machine. Throwing himself at her legs, Spike knocked Buffy off balance and smashed her head into the concrete floor.

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"So what we do, Tara?" Xander questioned.

"Watch my back," Tara replied, "And Xander? If you see things you don't understand, just...just try and accept it." The witch looked away and pulled The Urn of Osiris, filled with salt that wasn't there before, and a knife from her bag. She knew Xander was staring at her, but she really had no time to explain. Vékell had given her the necessary tools, and now it was time to do her part.

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Giles watched, horror stricken as Buffy's head smashed into the floor, blood streaming from her cheek where one of Spike's nails left a thin cut. The vampire was grinning, and Ethan Rayne was screaming garbled instructions from the sidelines-protected by magic and distance. As Giles' Slayer snapped her body upward, the Watcher could see her, almost as it if was in slow motion, folding her legs under her to push herself away from the floor. She neither smiled nor made any flippant remarks.

Instead, Buffy leapt powerfully over the leather-clad form of Spike, and she landed neatly next to Giles. True to form, Buffy didn't grapple or punch the Watcher, and Giles could see the years of training streamlined into this one moment as she landed one of the most beautiful high kicks she'd ever done on his chest. He could hear his ribs crack as he watched Buffy descend upon him, Spike running after her. Thankfully, the vampire's timing was good, and Giles saw Buffy's body flying directly toward Ethan Rayne after Spike picked the girl up and tossed her. She sprung back, and the vampire and Slayer advanced upon one another again.

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Tara paid no heed to the raging fight or Xander. Moving around him, she formed a circle of salt around them both and uttered an incantation she vaguely understood, ancient words borrowed from the Powers, she thought. Safe from anything Ethan might try, Tara kneeled before the urn and cut her hand, allowing the blood to flow into the vessel as she said, "Osiris, keeper of the gate, master of all fate, hear me." As Willow had done so long ago, Tara too dipped her finger into the urn and marked herself with blood. Magical properties filled the urn, and Tara could feel the blood on her face warming and pulsing with the borrowed power.

"Before time and after. Before knowing and nothing," Tara stopped speaking to pour the blood over the salt she used to form the shape of an ankh in the center of her circle. "Accept my offering. Know my prayer." Time seemed to fold inward, onto itself, and it was almost as if she were back on the night Willow had raised Buffy from the dead. The air sparked with a presence, and Tara swore she could actually see the others, the first spell, but Xander wasn't screaming for Willow this time: he was screaming for her. She felt her head jerk backward, but she held her hand out to stop the man from interfering with what she had to do and yelled, "Osiris, there stands a warrior of the people, one that should not have crossed over, give me her soul!"

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Spike felt the electrical charge before he saw the blinding white flash stream through Buffy's body, shaking the Slayer, forcing her to bend to her knees. He turned to see Tara holding the urn above her head, Xander screaming and unable to touch the girl, while white hot energy rushed out of Buffy and toward the little vessel. The vampire, frantic with worry, was certain the urn would smash, unable to contain whatever flowed into it. When the magics stopped, he heard Ethan Rayne scream in fury as Buffy Summers' body crumpled to the floor. It was time, and as much he didn't want to kill her, he knew it was necessary. Moving with speed and grace, he darted to Buffy and picked up her unconscious form as he slipped into game face.

Just as Spike was about to break Buffy's neck, Giles slammed into them bellowing, "NO! NOT LIKE THIS! It's my job to do." The Watcher pushed Spike away, saying to Buffy, "I'm sorry...so sorry, please forgive me." Tears gushed down Giles face, and his body shook uncontrollably while snapping Buffy's neck. He understood what Tara had done, why he had to kill his Slayer, but the pain was enormous. It was over as quickly as it had begun, Giles sobbing and holding the dead Slayer-for the second time. Not knowing what to say, Spike ran to Tara and Xander. Xander was also crying, and Tara was speaking the word, "Release." A column of light so white it seemed to burn the vampire's eyes sped upwards.

His girl, his Tara, turned to him and ran straight into his embrace when Dawn's voice called out, "Ethan's getting away! He ran from the building, and there was all this light surrounding it." She stopped, Anya on her heels, and started at Buffy's lifeless body cradled in the Watcher's arms.

That last thing Spike expected to feel was peace, but it happened as ethereal wisps of gold shimmered throughout the room, and Buffy stood in front of all of them, smiling, her mother standing with her.

"It's done," the apparition spoke, "Giles, you did what you had to, all of you did. Thank you for saving me."

"Buffy--" Giles said.

Buffy shook her head at him, "No guilt, Giles, I'm where I belong." She reached out, attempting to brush the tears from his eyes as she smiled.

"We don't have much time," Joyce reminded her eldest daughter, "Dawn, I love you with all my heart, and your sister and I will always watch over you. Buffy said it once before, sweetheart, but now it's time for you to live."

Dawn cried, "Mom, I love you so much...I miss you. I miss you both." The teenager could barely stand, and Anya helped her down the basement stairs. "Please don't leave me."

"I know, baby, you'll see us again," Joyce promised as she moved to her youngest daughter. "I swear, you will find us."

Buffy smiled at all of them, "Take care of each other, and remember that thing wasn't me. She was never me. I love you so much, Dawn. Tara, thank you." Joyce and Buffy gave each of them one last look and faded from sight.

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For awhile, the small group held one another and stood in the dim basement light. Finally, Anya said she was helping Giles to the car. Tara suspected there would be more to come for those two in the future, and the witch held tightly to Dawn and Spike. Xander, alone and bereft, sobbed hysterically while the others tried to get him into the vehicle before the sun rose any further. They drove to Willy's apartment first, picked up Clem, the car they'd left at Doc's place and headed north to Clem's family home. It seemed the only logical place to go for the time being. Later they could handle the details, and Tara had a feeling that Ethan Rayne wasn't as far away as everyone else believed. She suspected he would clean up the scene of his crimes long before the police would ever see anything. Dawn nestled herself between her new guardians, and Tara smiled softly at Spike and the young woman. Leaning across the girl, she kissed Spike gently and whispered, "I love you."

Spike's eye lit up at the words, "Love you too, pet."

(Epilogue to come soon.)