I wake up with a start, and the dream is gone. My free hand flies up to my eyes, but they're dry. Good. I can't let go. I can't cry. Not yet. Not ever. Not until I know everyone else is okay.

Dawn moans in her sleep and burrows her head into my shoulder, and I stop thinking about myself as I look down at her. I bring the hand that's holding her up to gently stroke her hair, and lean down to whisper into her ear.

"I'm here, Dawn. I'm here. I won't let go."

That seems to calm her down, and she sighs and settles down. I pull her tight against me. Poor Dawn. I can't even imagine what she's going through, and I don't know how to help. All I can do is hold her, but I know it's not enough.

It's never enough.

I don't know what I'm doing at all, and I'm scared, and sad, and I want to cry. I need to cry, but I can't. Everyone else is hurting so much worse than me, and I have to be strong so I can help them. I have to be strong. I just wish I knew how.

My eyes leave Dawn to look out over the living room. Giles is still in Xander's recliner. He's kicked off the quilt I put over him earlier, but it looks like he's sound asleep. Good. He needs the rest more than anyone, I think. He's barely slept at all since Buffy died, and I know this is the first time he's slept since Willow died. He looks so peaceful. It's going to break my heart when he wakes up and I see the pain take over his eyes again.

There's no pain in Tara's eyes. I can't see anything at all in them as she sits motionless in the armchair. She's not asleep, but she's definitely not awake, either. She hasn't moved an inch since we got back from the Rosenbergs' this afternoon. She's been like this since Willow died. It's like everything inside of her just switched off as soon as she saw Xander carrying Willow's body into the shop Monday night.

God, has it only been two days? It seems like a year, at least. A whole year of nothing but watching everyone hurting and not knowing what to do. But I have to try.

"Tara," I call softly. Her eyes flicker over to me and she stares right through me.

"Could you hold Dawn?" I ask. "So she doesn't wake up," I go on. "I have to find Xander."

No response, not even a hint of understanding in her eyes. I don't know what to do.

Yes, I do.

"Tara, Dawn needs you," I say firmly. "She needs you to hold her, so she won't cry. She needs you, Tara."

That did it. Tara nods absently and stands up to walk over to the couch. She sits down on the other side of Dawn and waits.

Very carefully, I shift Dawn into her arms. I was afraid Tara wouldn't hold her, but as soon as I let go, Dawn starts whimpering, and Tara's arms move to embrace her. She's rubbing Dawn's back, and rocking her a little bit. Dawn gives another sigh as Tara lowers her head to rest against her.

It's the most alive I've seen Tara all week. It helps to be needed. It helps, but it's not enough.

It's never enough.

I stand up and stretch, then walk over to Giles. I bend down to pull the quilt back over him, and he shifts in his sleep.

I freeze, afraid to even breathe, but he settles down quickly, and I let out a breath in relief. Impulsively, I lean down and kiss him gently on the forehead. I'm not sure why. He can't feel it. But it makes me feel better to have done it. I shouldn't be doing things to make myself feel better, but maybe just once is okay.

No more, though, I tell myself. Then I go looking for Xander.

I find him in the bedroom. He's lying on top of the covers, fully dressed. He's staring into a small hand mirror he's holding above his head. He doesn't look at me or react at all as I climb into bed and curl up against him, but he puts his free arm around me and pulls me against him.

I don't say anything for a long time. I just look up into the mirror, searching the reflection of his eyes. He's not looking at anything, not his reflection or mine. He's just staring into the mirror.

"It was Willow's," he informs me eventually. His voice is calm. Too calm, but I don't know what to do about that.

"We gave it to her for her birthday," he goes on. "When she turned twelve. It was in the window of that antique shop over on Henshaw Avenue. She stopped to look at it every time we walked past. Jesse and I worked all summer, mowing lawns, making deliveries, cleaning out garages, anything we could get people to pay us for.

"We saved every penny, but it wasn't enough. It got to be only a week before Will's birthday, and we barely had half of what we needed. We could have asked Jesse's parents for the rest, but that didn't feel right. They didn't love Willow like we did. It would have been cheating. Does that make sense?" he asks calmly. Too calmly, but I know how important the question is.

"It makes perfect sense," I assure him. "What happened?"

"Rory," he answers. "He was in town for Willow's birthday party. He never missed any of our birthdays. He saw that Jesse and I were upset, and he asked what was wrong. When we told him, he loaded us into his car and drove us down to the store. He bought the mirror, and he took every penny we had. Then he told us we still owed him fifty-eight dollars and eighty-seven cents."

"He understood," I say softly. I love you, Rory.

"He understood," Xander agrees. "It had to be entirely from us. We had to pay for all of it. And we did. We worked even harder after that. We paid him back by Chanukkah, and we still had enough money to get Will some nice presents."

"And it was worth it," I say. It's not a question.

"Oh, yes," he says, and his voice is alive for the first time in far too long. "She loved it, An. She was confused when we gave her one small present with both of our names on it. Usually, we both got her a lot of little stuff.

"She opened it, and her face just lit up. She did that little excited squeal that I love so much and threw herself at us. She hugged us so hard we could barely breathe. That was a great day. We were all so happy."

His voice trails off. I nod against his chest, but don't say anything at first. We just lay there quietly for a long time. Finally, I ask, "Where'd you get the mirror? Did the Rosenbergs give it to you?"

"No," he answers calmly. "I stole it from her room."

"What?" I ask, shocked. "Why?"

"Because I need it."

"Why do you need it?"

He doesn't say anything for a while, he just concentrates on the mirror. Eventually, he whispers, "I'm looking for Willow."

"What do you mean?" I have no idea what he's talking about.

"It's a Jewish thing. It's why Will's parents had all their mirrors covered."

"Should we do that?" I ask anxiously, hoping I haven't done something wrong. No one told me about that.

"No, it's okay," Xander assures me, and gives me a squeeze.

"Okay," I say. "Why do they cover them?"

"A couple reasons." His voice is still way too calm. "For one thing, you're not supposed to care about how you look when you're in mourning. They also say that mirrors can let you look into the spirit world. If you stare into one, you might see the person who..." His voice catches for a moment, but he rallies quickly and goes on. "You might see the person who died, and they won't be able to go on to Heaven. I think that's how it works, anyway."

"And that's what you want?" I ask softly. I'm so confused.

Xander's breath starts hitching in his chest. "I don't want her to leave, An," he whispers, his voice choked with pain. "I don't know how to live without her."

My eyes sting as I feel the tears welling up. "I know, honey," I assure him. "I know."

"I promised her!" he wails, and finally the tears come. They flood out of his eyes, and he drops the mirror onto the bed and clutches at me desperately. He's holding me so tight that it hurts, but I don't care, because he's holding me and I'm holding him. And because I can finally cry with him and share his pain and help him.

Keeping one arm around him, I reach over and pick up the mirror. I can't let it break. I put it on the night-stand, then give Xander all of my attention again.

"I promised," he chokes out through the tears, over and over again. I don't know what he means, but at the same time I do. She was his Willow. He feels like he betrayed her by not saving her. I can't say anything to make that better. I'd give anything to make it better, but I can't. All I can do is hold him and let him hold me as we cry together.

The sun is coming up by the time we stop. Slow down, really, because I'm still crying a little, and so is he.

"I love you," he whispers, and I start crying for real again.

"I love you, too," I tell him, and he pulls me closer to him.

I reach over and grab the mirror from the night-stand and hold it up over us so we can both look into it.

"I can't see her," Xander says. "She's gone." The pain in his voice tears at me. It sounds like he wants to die himself, but I'm not as worried about him as I was last night, when his voice was so calm.

"Will's gone, An," he says, still looking into the mirror. "I can't see her."

"I can," I whisper, and turn away from the mirror to look at him.

"You can?" he pleads, turning to look into my eyes.

I carefully put the mirror down on the bed and bring my hands up to his face. I run my thumbs gently over his eyes.

"I see her here," I tell him. "I see her every time I look into your eyes. And here," I go on, bringing my hand down to brush his mouth. "Every time you smile, every time you laugh, I see her."

He's crying again. So am I. He opens his mouth to say something, but I shush him with a finger against his lips.

"And here," I finish, bringing my palm down to rest against his chest. "Especially here. In your heart. In your soul. I've always thought there was just as much Willow in you as there is Xander. Maybe more. I used to be jealous."

"Not anymore?" he whispers.

I shake my head. "Not anymore. She's a big part of who you are, Xander. A big part of what made you the man I love."

"The biggest part," he says, and I nod.

"The biggest part," I agree. "And you're the biggest part of what made her Willow."

It's his turn to nod. "I love her so much, An. I don't feel whole without her."

"But you are," I insist. "Half Willow and half Xander, that makes one whole person. That makes the man I love."

He leans over to rest his forehead against mine and stare into my eyes. "I love you so much," he tells me.

"I know," I tell him. "I love you, too."

"I know. But I don't know if I can do this."

"You can," I assure him. "I'll be here with you, and so will Willow. She'll always be with you, Xander. She always has been, and she always will be. You know that. Deep down, you know that. As long as you're here, so is Willow."

"I can feel her," he agrees. "But I don't know if it's enough. I don't know if I'm strong enough to do this."

"You are. You're strong enough. And when you're not strong enough, I'll be here to help you. I'm not going anywhere, Xander. I'm not going to leave you. Not ever."

"Do you promise?" he begs, and I know that he's asking for more than I can possibly guarantee. But that doesn't matter, and I know what my answer is as I smile and move to kiss him.

"I promise."