Finding Her Way Home
by rebelrsr
Chapter 24
[reviews]
Disclaimer: All things Buffy belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and lots of people in expensive suits. I'm not making any money here, just trying to create a happier Buffyverse for my favorite characters.
Spoilers, etc.: Pretty much everything after the Gift.
A/N: Character thoughts are enclosed by **. Flashbacks are enclosed by //. Thanks to Ivy, Malea, Zenithar, and Zigpal for the beta and encouragement! I couldn't do it without you.
Archiving: By permission only.
A/N2: I'm mixing parts of S6 and S7 with very little regard to canon. For purposes of the fic, Dawn is over the age of consent *wink*.
When Giles' voice died away, Buffy closed her eyes. The answers had been even worse than she'd expected. Mixing with the sense of the surreal at Giles' explanation was the pain still hammering through her head. She wanted to grab Willow and run, hide, do anything she could to keep her witch safe. That wasn't an option. Using the headache as a shield, she pushed the pain into the link, keeping Willow from touching her mind or emotions. "I can't say I'm happy about what the Council did to us, but it isn't anything new or even unusual. If they were still around, I might go pay a visit." Light stabbed her eyes and her stomach roiled when she forced them open. "But we have a new Big Bad on the horizon, and a horde of researchers waiting on us."
Striding away, she ignored Giles open-mouthed look and the gentle touch Willow sent into their link. Inside, the living room looked the same. People and books strewn everywhere. "Jennifer, any news?" Buffy demanded.
"Well, let's see," the older version of Willow responded. "You were gone about an hour. What do you think?"
Refusing to back down, Buffy glared into the cool green eyes. "I think I'd like an answer to my question."
"Buffy!" Willow grabbed her lover by the arm. "Let's leave Mama to the books and go beat up on some punching bags or something."
The pain was worsening. Buffy swallowed hard against a surge of nausea. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Will, you stay here. They need you." Buffy forced a grin. She just needed to get away from everyone, work out some frustration. "You're the best with the book work. I'll head out and see if Kirsten has anything for me to hit."
For a second, she feared Willow would refuse, but the redhead nodded reluctantly. "OK." Green eyes searched Buffy's face, not happy with her pallor and her dilated eyes. "But, you better not be planning anything stupid, you hear me?"
Despite her whirling head, Buffy's sudden smile came from deep inside. "Nope. No stupid here," she teased. "I've got this way powerful wife, and she'd kick my ass if I got out of line."
Giggling, Willow kissed the Slayer gently before playfully pushing her away. "Damn. A wife? The good ones are always taken." She winked at Buffy before turning away, grabbing a book from the research table.
Step a little lighter after her Willow-snuggles, Buffy headed back outside. The sun shone brightly and Buffy grimaced. *Damn, I guess Willow-kissage isn't enough to heal everything.* Pushing open the door to the training facility, Buffy peered inside. "Anybody home?" she called out. No one answered. Shrugging, she moved inside, sliding the door closed behind her.
Deciding a houseful of mostly women was a safe environment, she stripped off her shirt. Her headache faded slightly as she loosened up. This was her world. Not the research center. Pushing down the flashbacks from the conversation with Giles, Buffy bounced in front of a practice dummy. Outlines on its chest indicated it was mostly used for staking practice, but Buffy was more in the mood for hands on combat. Lashing out, she rained blows on its padded form before interspersing kicks. Grunts and thuds were the only sounds in the large space until Buffy doubled over, panting. Sweat poured from her, dripping into her eyes.
"There are some towels on the bench over there." Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy saw a hand wave to her left.
No longer focused on her workout, Buffy reeled from the stabbing pain in her head.
"Honey, are you alright? You look really pale," the voice cooed.
Despite feeling very unsteady, Buffy spun around, ending in a fighting crouch.
"I know it's been awhile, sweetie, but I haven't changed that much, have I?" Joyce Summers smiled gently. "You've been out here a long time. Did you overdo it? Can I get you something? Some water? I could check inside and rustle up some lunch, too."
"Mom?" Buffy's voice sounded years younger. Tears mixed with the sweat on her face. "Oh my God. How did you...when did you get back?" She stepped forward, arms extended — and then recoiled. Her Slayer senses screamed. Joyce radiated an ancient, overwhelming evil. Backpedaling, she stared in horror at the thing pretending to be Joyce and remembered Angel's explanation of the First's abilities. "You're not real," she mumbled.
Hazel eyes lighting with laughter, Joyce peered at Buffy. "OK. Is that slang for 'you're not for real', or...?"
"No!" Buffy continued backing away, stumbling over the scattered training tools. "You're the First."
Joyce frowned, moving after the fleeing Slayer. "Oh, baby, you're so tired; you're not making any sense. Maybe you should get some sleep."
Now backed up against the wall, Buffy pressed against the surface shaking her head, shouting, pleading, Buffy shook her head. "No. Get away!"
"Buffy, I don't know what's wrong with you, but that's enough." Joyce crossed her arms and pursed her lips. Despite the sure knowledge deep inside that this was not her mother returned from the grave, Buffy responded to the look of motherly disapproval and dropped her eyes. "Sweetie, what have you been doing to yourself? I mean, look at you."
Now that she couldn't see Joyce, it was so much easier to pretend. Joyce's voice wrapped around her, and Buffy sobbed, remembering the good times: movie nights, a warm kiss on the forehead just as she fell asleep, the pride at her acceptance to Northwestern.
"Sweetie, let me get you something for your head. Have you been eating enough? You've lost so much weight."
Buffy moaned at the stabbing pain in her head, and at the voice that continued to wash over her. She had to make it stop. She could feel the evil. She knew it wasn't Joyce. Desperate for relief of some kind, she lunged across the mat, grabbing a stake from a low table. Focusing her pain and rage into the toss, she heaved the weapon toward her tormentor. The sharpened wood flew true, but passed through Joyce, sinking deeply into the wall of the barn.
Earrings jingling as she shook her head, Joyce looked at Buffy sadly. "I'm so disappointed in you, Buffy. I came back to help you and the others, but I don't think I know you anymore." She disappeared with no warning.
Buffy crumpled to the mat. Pounding head pressed to her knees, she rocked back and forth, sobs ripping from her throat.
***
Willow hauled her book into the heart of the living room and sat down on the floor, back resting against the couch. Dawn and Anya sat above her, both flipping through books of their own. "You guys finding anything?" she called up to the couch.
"Nothing," Anya chirped, waving a thin manual. "And nothing. Cliff Notes to nothing." The ex demon was really into her response.
Interrupting Anya before she could expand on the nothingness, Dawn muttered, "My research isn't turning up anything either."
Silence fell as the three went back to work. As she skimmed the spidery script in the Watcher's Diary on her lap, part of Willow's mind worked outside the box. They were quickly coming to the end of the more traditional research methods. What other ways could there be?
The answer, when it came, should not have been a surprise. "Dawnie, do you know if anyone called Angel after Giles got here?"
"Um..." Willow grinned. She could almost hear Dawn thinking about the question. "No," the teen finally offered.
Scrambling to her feet, Willow shouted, "We're idiots!"
The room froze.
"How did we miss this?" Willow asked the assembled crew.
"Maybe you could give us a little more information, and then we could tell you," Jennifer responded dryly.
"Angel." Willow flung her hands in the air. "We didn't call Angel."
"Gee, sis, can you just pick up the phone and dial Heaven?" Drew closed her book with a thud. "I thought prayer was the way to go."
Dawn was giggling madly and even Anya cracked a smile, prompting more confused looks from the Hirsch clan.
Dropping her hands to her hips, Willow grinned at her family. "Well, this Angel is more familiar with Hell than with Heaven, but he does have a phone." She backed off a bit when Jennifer gave her a piercing glare. "Oookay. Moving right along, he's not an angel, he's Angel, or Angelus."
"You want to call Angelus, the most evil vampire in history?" Jennifer sounded horrified. "Do I even want you to explain how you know him?"
Dawn sucked in a deep breath and managed to choke out, "He was Buffy's boyfriend."
The Sunnydale crew howled at Jennifer's mumbled, "My new daughter-in-law, the Slayer, was dating a vampire?"
Still laughing, Willow didn't even bother to explain. "Drew, my laptop's still upstairs. Get it for me, please?" Her sister was a little unhappy about the errand, but trotted for the door. "Mama, I'm going to set up a little video conference, and, I promise to explain everything."
"See that you do, daughter mine." Jennifer stood and stretched. "I don't mind a little levity, but I need to be sure you aren't putting us more at risk."
Willow looked at her mother. "No, Jennifer. Angel's a friend, and he faced the First once before. "
Drew came back into the room and stopped. "Hey, is everything OK?"
"Jennifer?" Willow asked.
Still appearing uncertain, the older witch nodded. "Fine, Drew. Willow can use the table here for her conference."
Willow took the bag Drew held out and swiftly set up her equipment. "OK, guys, gather round. I'm going to call the AI office. Angel's got a special set up there so we can actually see him on the screen. I'm thinking he may have some answers for us, or he can find them." She typed rapidly for a second and the screen blanked.
A voice chirped out of the external speakers. "Angel Investigations. We help the helpless."
"Cordy, hi. It's Willow."
"Oh, great. We haven't had a paying customer in, like, a week. Every time the phone rings it's one of you losers." Despite the snap in the voice, Willow grinned.
"Same old Cordy. Good thing I'm using the new Willow 2.0, or I might just cry." She listened to Cordelia's laughter for a second. "Is Angel around? I've got some big, important questions to ask him. I'm set up on the vid, so can you have him log on?"
The former Prom Queen must have been on a portable handset because they heard doors opening and closing and the click of high-heeled shoes on stairs. "Angel, Willow's on the line. She wants you to do a video conference."
Another voice rumbled in the background.
"I don't know, probably another apocalypse or something. They only ever call when they need our help," Cordy answered an unheard question.
Seconds later, Willow's computer screen flickered and Angel appeared. "Willow? Is something wrong? Is Buffy OK?"