***************************************

Chained, strung up, bleeding like one of his own victims. The pain had hazed Spike’s mind but one thought filtered through:

This gig’s no more fun the second time round.

A few feet away Xander paced, waiting for somebody to tell him what to do, and occasionally cringing as some new torment was visited on his prisoner. Didn’t have the stomach for torture, that much was obvious. This wasn’t his deal anyway – it reeked of vengeance, and not the kind Anya and Halfrek played at either. This was visceral and bitter, the bereaved wail of broken devotion.

He’d always known Red had it in her.

Had his eye on her, he did, even before her Wicca power-tripping. Entertained himself with thoughts of bringing her over to his team, until the one time he tried ended in his own horror and ignominy. Then he’d watched, indifferently at first and later with growing wariness, as she’d suffused herself with the dark arts. He’d seen how it emboldened her, made her forget her past disgraces and the inadequacies she still feared.

Well, hell. The parallels were hard to miss.

But the Superfriends…they’d considered her harmless, preferring to remember the shy and slightly geeky girl of their youth. Stupid, that. “Stupid,” he tried to whisper, around the blood and broken teeth, but the sound came out garbled and wet.

She’d resurrected a Slayer, messed with her chums’ collective heads, and nearly killed Dawn – an incident that had triggered a shouting match between he and Buffy about Willow’s continued presence in the house. He’d called Buffy deliberately dense, and she’d accused him of being motivated by nothing more than jealousy. They’d enraged and incensed each other until all that was left was the shagging. The argument had gone unresolved.

He’d been as complacent as the others, he realized now. So consumed with his lonely love life he’d not seen her power swelling. Tara’s death had been more than an excuse; it had been a call to arms.

Now he had all the time in the world to wonder what mystical retribution awaited him.

***************************************

“You know,” Willow mused, as the morbid reflection pulsed before them, “I keep feeling like there’s some witty comment I should be making right about now.” She frowned disapprovingly when Buffy and Dawn didn’t speak, but then her face lit up. “I know.

“’I’ll get you, my pretty.’” Her laughing gaze drifted to Spike. “’And your little dog, too.’”

Around Willow, along the walls and underneath their feet, blue-white energy crackled as though an electrical storm had broken. It danced at the tips of Willow’s fingers and outlined her wraithlike form. Strange, churning moans echoed in the house but seemed to come from beyond it, voices that had traveled across miles and eons to keen there, at that moment.

Dawn had her arms wrapped around Buffy, holding her up and holding on herself. “You bitch,” she hissed at Willow. “You – take him down from there. Spike didn’t do anything. He helped us.”

Willow shrugged. “Didn’t help me any. Tara’s dead. Buffy’s standing. And if I’m not mistaken,” she cocked her head at Buffy’s stricken expression, “she’s in love. Awww.”

Dawn seethed silently, but the words shocked Buffy into action.

“Stop it,” she said tightly. “Whatever you’re doing to him, just stop it. This is between you and me.”

Willow nodded. “I agree. I really, really do. That’s why this is happening, Buffy – to make us even. All I’m looking for is justice. Do you think I ask too much?” she prodded, as Buffy regarded her stonily. “There’s more I could do, I promise. I could send your Key back to where she came from – keep her floating in the ether for all eternity. Or Giles – heard he’s back in town. Shall I pay him a visit?”

“I won’t let you,” Buffy answered sharply. “And I won’t let you get away with this, either.”

Willow smirked. “Oh, does the Slayer have something up her sleeve? ‘Cause it seems to me there’s nothing you can do but watch.”

She breathed in deeply, eyes closing for the briefest moment. The image in front of them electrified, brightened, and now Spike’s anguish seemed to fill the room; his body bathed in scarlet, his grimace of pain exquisitely defined.

“Check this out,” Willow invited them. Her voice rose imperiously. “Xander!”

And now he stepped into view, strained and unhappy, eyes incongruously trained heavenward. “Willow?”

“Oh, God,” Buffy gasped.

“Willow, it’s enough,” Xander was saying. “End it now. He’s…you’re…”

“Just getting started,” Willow finished.

***************************************

“Ahem.”

Silence.

“Ahem!”

Dimly, Giles heard someone speaking. Anya was already pulling back. With seeming reluctance she turned away from him, to the woman standing a few feet away. “Hallie?” she said, a bit testily. “I was very clearly in the midst of kissing someone. It was enjoyable, and I would have liked it to go on indefinitely.”

The woman sniffed. “I see you’re still trying to make a go of it with the humans. Well excuse me, but I have some information I thought you’d be interested in. Of course,” and now her eyes raked over Giles appraisingly, “it’s about your ex. Maybe I should come back later.”

“Xander?” Giles’ brow furrowed. “What about him?”

The woman – Hallie? merely raised one unimpressed eyebrow.

“What is it?” Anya asked.

“Are you sure? After all –"

“Halfrek!” Anya snapped.

“Fine. He’s engaged in a rather vulgar – in my humble opinion – display of highly unapproved vengeance. D’Hoffryn is not pleased. Great magics have been harnessed, and the effect throughout this dimension has been chaotic. Spells have been altered; wishes to our kind have had unintended results. It’s an altogether messy situation.”

Giles shook his head. “Xander? Why would he seek revenge?”

“Oh, it’s not him.” Halfrek assured them. “It’s his little friend. Wanda? Winnie?”

“Willow,” Anya breathed.

***************************************

“Where are they?” Buffy demanded.

“The boys, you mean? It’s sweet, seeing them together. Two more men that Buffy Summers slayed. Too bad Angel hasn’t shown up. Then we could have some real fun.”

Dawn was weeping now, as Spike hung limply from an anonymous ceiling and Xander pleaded with his best friend. “Take him down, take him down,” Dawn whimpered endlessly, and Buffy’s heart broke for her sister. Spike is loved, she thought. Does he know? Will he realize it before –

“I gotta tell you, Buffy – take off Spike’s clothes and throw some chains on him, and his appeal really comes through. I understand what you see in him.” Peering closer, Willow surveyed the scene. “I'm going to bleed him. Fitting, don’t you think? It’s time for Spike to give a little back.”

***************************************

“Willow! Can you hear me? Damn. Damn. Willow!”

The only thing more insufferable than Xander Harris, Spike mulled groggily, was Xander Harris with the volume turned up. At least the vicious, invisible gnawing on his flesh had abated somewhat. He raised his head marginally, trying to assess his latest predicament. Still had a bit of sight remaining in the left eye. Enough to see his captor – and Spike loathed using that word to describe Harris – bobbing around anxiously like a misplaced marionette.

“How?” Spike managed. Xander stared at him.

“How’d…Red rope you into…this?”

Xander raised his chin. “You’ve brought nothing but trouble since you showed up in Sunnydale. I always knew, but – Willow showed me. Showed me you and Buffy.” Disgust rolled off him in waves. “I don’t get, I don’t want to get it, but I’m going to make sure it ends. Here.”

Spike started to laugh, though it quickly degenerated into a hacking struggle for air. Xander’s face reddened. “What? What the hell do you find so goddamn amusing?”

“Gotta…hand it to you,” Spike mumbled. “You…knew. She’ll keep coming back to me. You can’t send me away. Can’t threaten me. Won’t…keep us apart. I’m inside her, now. Always. This…this is all you can do.” The pain that had retreated briefly had now returned, and Spike fought to force the words out. “All you can do is kill me.”

Xander shook his head. “That wasn’t – she said we were just going to teach you a lesson. Make you understand.” He looked positively ill as he took in Spike’s appearance now.

“Yeah? Understand this, then.” Spike coughed up a mouthful of blood, and Xander flinched.

“When all this is over, my girlfriend is gonna kick your ass.”

***************************************

“Something’s happening,” Anya said fearfully. The sky above them was crowded with clouds, but rain refused to come. The air itself seemed putrid and sickly.

“How did your friend know of Xander and Willow’s activities?”

Anya was panting as she rushed to keep up with Giles’ long, determined strides. They hurried down Waverly to his car. “Halfrek is a vengeance demon. We always know when someone’s invoking that power, whether or not our presence is requested.”

“And D’Hoffryn has something against individuals wreaking vengeance without his help?” He hastily yanked open the passenger side door and ushered her inside.

“Oh, not at all. He’s a firm believer in free enterprise and personal expression. I can only think of a few circumstances under which he would disapprove of a vengeance effort.”

“Such as?” He glanced at Anya briefly as she straightened her skirt across her knees.

“Targeting children. Recompense during wartime. Exacting revenge on someone other than the original offender. Trying to unionize.”

“I don’t see how any of those – oh, dear God.”

***************************************

Buffy couldn’t look anymore; not at Spike twisting and shuddering in his bonds while Xander watched. Steel edged her voice as she addressed Willow. “You want to hurt me? Hurt me. I’m right here.”

“Hurt you?” Willow laughed, a little hysterically. “I’ll hurt you, Buffy. That’s the whole point. The pain eats at you – you’ll lie in your bed in the middle of the night, praying to die just so the aching, this awful aching ends.” A choked sob suddenly escaped her, and when she looked at Buffy again her eyes were black with fury. “I’ll make you feel it. Make you feel like I do.”

“Know what?” Buffy said. “I’m tired of talking.”

She leapt across the image Willow had conjured and brought the witch to the ground. As they grappled, Dawn threw herself alongside her sister and attempted to subdue Willow. Instantly Willow flung her away, and there was a sickening crunch as Dawn’s head hit the edge of the staircase.

Buffy turned to her sister, and in that moment Willow wrenched away until she was crouched over Buffy.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Willow rasped.

“You’re right,” Buffy replied, and flipped Willow over again.

***************************************

Giles pounded on the door. “Buffy! If you’re there, open up!”

A thump from inside, and that was all he needed to hear. Fumbling for his keyring, Giles finally unlocked the door and shouldered it open. When the scene was revealed, he stopped short, one restraining hand holding Anya at his back. Dawn sprawled awkwardly on the floor, blood trickling from her forehead. Buffy and Willow, battling; and something both vibrant and sinister shimmering in the center of the room…

“Willow!” Giles rushed to the thrashing pair as Anya stared, horribly transfixed, at the image of Spike and Xander.

“Back off,” Willow snarled, and Giles staggered. He righted himself quickly, though, and approached the two again.

***************************************

“No. Willow – stop! Stop it!”

Somebody shut him up, Spike pleaded to no one in particular. Is this to be my hell, then? Listening to him babble on forever?

“She’s not – she’s not making sense,” Xander said worriedly. Spike couldn’t bring himself to care much.

“She went off the deep end long before this,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t act so bloody dumbfounded about it.”

Xander swallowed. “She’s hurting Buffy. And Dawn -- it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. None of this was supposed to happen.”

Spike jerked in his chains. “Get me out of these,” he growled.

***************************************

Willow winced, onyx eyes snapping and flashing. “Have to – concentrate,” she gasped.

“Here’s something you can focus on,” Buffy grunted, and tossed Willow into the living room. With Giles at her side, she followed Willow’s trajectory in slow, measured steps.

“End it now, Willow. Before you do something that can’t be undone.”

“Bitch,” Willow spat. “Why should I stop? You got your chance at bat already. Don’t I get to play?”

“I’m going to have to live with the consequences for the rest of my life,” Buffy answered evenly. “Is that what you want?”

“Consequences? I’m living with your consequences. Now you can live with mine.” But her voice wavered; a heady mix now of both heartache and rage. The maelstrom surrounding them became increasingly frenzied and disjointed.

“Her power is fracturing,” Giles murmured to Buffy. “She’s unable to deal with all of us at once.” He glanced behind him. “And her accomplice is conflicted, to say the least.”

“Xander,” Anya cried as she stood huddled over the vision. “Can you hear me? Xander, it’s Anya. Please, stop this.”

***************************************

“Do it, man! Let me down from here!”

“Willow wouldn’t…she’s just trying to help Buffy,” Xander said, but uncertainty tainted his words.

“If anything happens to Buffy or Dawn…”

“Nothing will! I swear!” Even as he spoke Willow’s desperate wrangling assaulted his mind.

***************************************

Willow was edging away from them now, and they could see her efforts to regain her slipping control. “It’s not fair,” she wept quietly, while Giles and Buffy and Anya – where she sat cradling Dawn -- eyed her warily. “I deserve this. I deserve to make this right.”

Giles knelt now, careful not to threaten her. “What you’re doing here, Willow – this won’t make anything right. Tara wouldn’t want this.”

“Tara’s dead! What she wants is never going to matter anymore.”

“She loved you,” Buffy said. “I love you. Please don’t destroy yourself.” Buffy tried to keep her tone convincing but Willow saw her clenched fists, the tendons that stood out on her arms as she forced herself not to attack. The witch’s lips curled grotesquely.

“Don’t destroy him, you mean.” She wiped her nose and rose, fingers gripping the wall for purchase. “I’m doing you a favor, but you’re too selfish to see it.”

“I think I can live without this kind of help,” Buffy hissed. “Dawn’s hurt and Spike’s –"

“His chip doesn’t work!” Willow burst out.

Buffy’s eyes narrowed. Willow swallowed hard and continued.

“I visited Rodger Kehoe.” She giggled, and Giles moved forward menacingly. “Well, I tried. He was gone. His house was trashed. Do you think your boyfriend actually went to the trouble of hiding the body? Or did he just cut him up into tiny, tiny pieces?”

“What is it you wish to say, Willow?” Giles’ voice brooked no tolerance.

“There were notes – records. Kehoe kept them -- in the event of his untimely death. He said that Spike agreed to spare his life in exchange for removing the chip or – or rendering it useless.”

“And you believe this?” Buffy exploded. “This is the same guy who turned me into a raving lunatic!”

From the stairway, a cough. Buffy turned to see her sister, eyes slitted open. She sighed weakly.

“He wrote about the spell he used,” Willow whispered. “I wanted to be wrong, Buffy. I wanted to find out that it hadn’t been you, after all. Faith – or the First Slayer – God, anybody. Someone to blame this on. Someone besides you.”

Buffy’s anger faded for a moment. “I know what you mean.”

“But it was you. That whole time, in the Magic Box. It was you.” The weeping began again, in earnest. “How could you, Buffy? How could you?”

Tears ran down Buffy’s face now as well, as she crept toward her friend. “I know. I know, Willow.” Delicately, she reached out one slim hand to touch Willow’s face. “I can’t make it right. But we can make it better. Please, Willow. Please.”

For seconds or hours, they simply sat. Then Willow crumpled.

She curled into a ball on the floor, sobbing. The energy around her spiraled terrifyingly, piercing yowls and blinding, burning white light. Then, suddenly, silence.

Giles was beside her, lifting her head and leaning her against his shoulder. “Willow? You must tell us how to free Spike.”

“It’s all right,” Anya said quietly. Giles turned.

***************************************

The last chained was released, and Spike would have fallen had Xander not caught him. “Hold up, Spike. Gotta get you out of here.” He bore Spike’s full weight and dragged him towards the exit of the tunnel. Spike mumbled something that Xander couldn’t understand. “What?”

“Tool,” came the scratchy reply. “You…are such…a tool.”

Xander frowned. “Tool? Not git, not wanker? Where did you…oh.” Dawn. He’d picked that up after spending weeks protecting Dawn Summers. And hello to the guilt, Xander muttered inwardly.

But it was better. Anything was better than the way he’d spent the last few hours, the way chaos and hatred had infiltrated his mind until he didn’t know where he started and Willow began. And he knew now that it was over. Buffy saves the day again.

He hefted Spike up and they made a slow path out of the room.

***************************************

“She’s lucid,” Anya told Buffy softly, as she stroked Dawn’s hair. “I don’t think she has a concussion but I’ll take her to the hospital just in case.”

“I’ll go with you,” Buffy answered, her eyes on her sister. She finally pulled away. “Giles?”

“Go.” He gripped Willow sturdily, gazing at them over her bent head. “Willow and I…we’ll be fine.”

Buffy nodded slowly. She remained still, registering all that had occurred. Then she extended a hand to Anya and together they helped Dawn up. Anya went to Giles and he wordlessly handed her his car keys. In the next moment they were gone, and the Summers house was filled with nothing but the sound of lamentation.

Part 21: Back To Life

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