Chapter 10
Xander and Anya arrive about a half an hour after Dawn has left and we take the discussion outside to the back yard.
“Buffy?” Xander asks.
“She’s upstairs getting dressed.” I explain.
“For almost an hour.” Willow adds, concerned, “Last time I checked on her she said she’d be down soon.”
I squeeze Willow’s hand, trying to be reassuring.
“What about our other problem?” Xander says, shuddering. Anya moves to the arm of his chair and perches there so she can rub his back, “It was very bad. Very, very, very bad. Bad.”
“He’s all traumatized.” Anya explains, sounding much less so despite being the one who was possessed.
“Whatever it is, it’s not a traditional haunting, given its flopped between two different places, and there’s not really a ghost—a dead person.”
“Not anymore.” I can’t help but say.
“I bet it’s a hitchhiker.” Anya says.
Xander asks her to clarify what she means.
“Well, it’s the standard way to travel through dimensions, see someone moving between worlds, and grab on for the ride.” She says.
It would make sense.
“You mean some hell-beastie rode in with Buffy?” Willow asks, shocked, “It’s our fault?”
“What are we going to do about it?” Xander asks, glancing at Anya, “I feel the need for some vigorous doing.”
I nod in agreement.
“It’s okay.” Willow says, leaning forward, “I mean, we just kill the thing and then all is good. We’re rolling in puppies!”
“Can we kill it?” Xander asks, “I mean, how?”
“We killing something?” Buffy remarks. After I come back down to earth I take her in. She’s looking decent. She’s dressed, smartly but simply, in just jeans and a blouse. Her hair is tied up, neatly. She’s got a cup of coffee.
“Buffy!” Willow exclaims.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her, “Are you okay?”
Buffy ignores the questions, focused instead on, “What are we killing?”
“A demon you brought back from Hell with you.” Anya explains which has Willow giving her the evil eye.
“It’s not like she’s making it sound.” Willow tries, “It’s a little haunting.”
“You shouldn’t worry about it.” I try, knowing that’s futile.
Buffy drifts off again for a moment, “Um, I remember something. Something from last night.” And she’s off again. For longer this time.
Until Xander says, “Buff?”
“Oh!” she startles a little, “The photographs. Th-the ones in my room. They changed.”
“How did they change?” I ask her, wondering if she’ll zone off again.
“They—I mean—i-i—we were all skeletons and rotten corpses, but then we were all okay. So, I gues—you know, figured it was just me,” she gives a vague laugh, “You know—going crazy.”
“Well, maybe you are.” Anya suggests, “Going crazy. From Hell.”
I squeeze Willow’s hand as she glares at Anya. Anya catches it this time and tries to walk it back, but her tone is not very sincere.
“No. You’re fine.”
“You are, Buffy,” Willow clarifies, “and we’re so glad you’re back.”
“Yeah, this thing, this haunting thing we’ll fix it and we’ll still have you back which is—it’s so important.” Xander says.
“Yes.” Willow agrees.
We’re not given a response to that instead Buffy just says, “Let’s get to work.”
I leave Dawn a note on the kitchen table and on top of the pizza box in the fridge letting her know that we’ve gone to The Magic Box and that Buffy is with us and then it’s books, books, books, as is fairly standard. It’s weird to be doing this without Giles stuttering about in the corner, cleaning his glasses when someone says something a little off kilter, or Xander and Anya get into their deeply awkward PDA—well, awkward for everyone else, at least.
We’re doing fairly well at assembling a list which is probably about at its limit, and therefore researching the possibilities, when Dawn comes in through the back door given the front of the store has closed early.
She gives me a hug and then tenses up realizing she came to me and Willow first and not her sister. She apologizes but Buffy says that it’s okay. That seems to be her mantra lately. Okay. Okay. But again, freshly back from Hell. She’s been half-heartedly reading, mostly just staring off, but that’s more concerning about her mindset than it is anything else. It’s hard to say what will help. Is there really anything we could do at this point? Other than give her time?
“Did you have fun?” Willow asks Dawn.
Dawn nods and excitedly goes into a blow-by-blow account of the final game which Janice’s Dad won but they’re sure that he cheated somehow because no one can go from that far behind to that far ahead without doing a turkey and he definitely did not pull off a turkey, and who cheats in a game against kids anyway?
When there’s an awkward silence I tell her, “That is very suspicious.” Not that I actually know what a turkey is with regards to bowling, but it sounds important.
“Right?” she says, “So…whatcha doing?” she sidles closer to look over the pages we all have open.
“Making a list of critters.” Xander says, lifting his book up and setting it down.
“A list of what?”
“Hitchhikers.” Anya says.
“Demons.” Xander amends, “That might have come out of Hell with Buffy.”
Dawn looks at the curled and many times folded legal pad that we have on the table and begins reading the list, “Skaggmore…Trellbane, Skitters—no, skitterers, large and small bone eaters. Well,” she leans back, “If we get to pick, I say we go with the small bone eaters they sound easier to kill.”
“Common mistake.” Anya says.
“So, it’s like Little John?” Xander asks, “The small one is actually the big one?”
Anya shakes her head, “No. It just means that they eat things with small bones. Like Dawn.”
Dawn gives a slight gasp, and perches on a nearby stool.
“It’s just what we have so far.” Willow explains, “Two of them may be invisible in this dimension and two can perform spells that alter peoples’ perceptions so, they…could be invisible in this dimension.”
“That’s four.” Anya counters, “What’s the other one like?”
“Ah, well…like the others, only it skitters and drips viscous fluid.” I explain.
“Ew.” Dawn shudders.
“So,” Xander says, “Should we concentrate on killing those or look for more?”
“I think we can rule out the Skitterer.” I suggest, “I’m fairly sure we would have noticed yellowing fluids.”
“I’m not sure.” Willow says, toying with the pages of her book with one hand. I take it and give it a squeeze, “Maybe—maybe some of us can keep looking and the others—”
“I miss Giles.” Buffy says, suddenly.
I can feel Willow’s hand warm up with tension, “Oh. Oh, well. He’s coming back.” She says, “I was able to get hold of him after you went to bed. I know I’m kind of a poor substitute, but until then we’ll get it done.”
Buffy doesn’t really acknowledge anything Willow says she just glances around at us, and then bounces to her feet, “I think I should patrol.” She drops her book onto the table.
“I know we’ll find something soon.” I know Willow is hurt by the way Buffy is acting, but we all have to work through this.
“Yeah.” Buffy says, moving to unlock the front door and leave.
“Do you want us to go with you?” Xander asks.
“We can.” Anya adds, “If you feel—”
“No.” Buffy says, firmly, “I-I need to go.” The door unlocks.
“You should go.” Dawn says, also sounding hurt. I’m sure it doesn’t help that Buffy doesn’t look back at her as the door closes or acknowledge her in any way, “I’ll be safe here with the others.” She says, locking the door behind Buffy, “Don’t worry about me.”
She slumps against the door, and I put my book down to go to her, rubbing her arm with my hand, “It’s okay—”
“No, it’s not.” Dawn says.
“What I was going to say is it’s okay to be upset or-or even angry.”
“Is she mad at me?” Dawn asks.
Anya is by Dawn’s other side, “No, sweetie. I think she’s just not feeling anything right now.”
I try to give Anya a look that suggests maybe find another angle of things, but Anya doesn’t pick up on those sort of nuances. I should have been more direct.
“She’s probably turned her feelings off, all the running for her life and fighting for her life—”
“An—weren’t you going to get coffee?” Xander asks.
“Oh. Yes.” She says, “I’ll need you two to move though.”
I pull Dawn gently towards me, “You think that’s what she’s going through though. She’s not mad because I didn’t think to—” she starts, crying, “I didn’t think to go to her when I first got here. I’m so—I’m so used to her not being here that I didn’t even think—”
“Oh, no, sweetie, no.” I hug her and let her cry against my shoulder, as the front door opens and closes again, “You’re fine. It’s a huge adjustment for everybody, including Buffy, but you as well.”
“Yeah.” Xander puts in, “We’re all on eggshells.” He pauses, “Made of lava.”
“Do you think there was lava?” Dawn asks, wiping her eyes with a sleeve.
“I wouldn’t imagine so. She didn’t come back on fire.” Xander says.
“It was her soul.” Dawn says, witheringly.
“What do you need?” I ask her, trying to change the subject, “Though, I’m pretty sure Anya is getting you a hot chocolate.” I glance at Xander who nods.
“Are you trying to bribe me with tasty treats?” Dawn folds her arms.
“Is it working?” Xander asks.
Dawn flops down into a chair next to him, “A little.” She says.
“I-it’s not really bribery so much as comfort food.” I explain.
“Well, then…” Dawn asks, with the exaggerated tones of someone knowing they’re pushing it, “Can I have ice cream?”