Chapter 29
Given that after we mix the antidote it has to brew for sixteen hours and sit for a couple more there’s not much that can be done the next morning. I keep an eye on everything while Willow goes to a couple of morning classes and then she’ll be back in time for me to go to my afternoon ones.
Dawn has a different pep in her step, this morning, considering everything that’s going on.
“Got everything done?” I ask her.
“Yeah. Fine.” She says, and then suspiciously asks me, “Why?”
“I don’t know.” I answer, having a feeling it might not have been Janice she was talking to on the phone last night. If I bring that up it might make her feel guilty given everything that’s going on with her sister though and I don’t want to do that, “You just have an aura.”
“No, I don’t.” she says, defensively, but at least without any guilt tinging it. It’s the defensive tones of someone who feels like they’re being caught at something, “I don’t have one of those, and it’s definitely not whatever you think it is.”
“Okay.” I tell her, “If you ever want to talk about whatever that is I don’t mind, and I promise not to be weird.”
“It’s already weird.” She remarks.
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Besides I don’t think it’s anything you could help me with.” She says.
“Oh?”
“Well, I mean, you’re…” she hesitates, “and you…Willow…is that the time? I’m late to meet Janice.” And she runs upstairs, stopping to peek in Buffy’s bedroom door and then grabbing her backpack and heading outside.
I check on Buffy about a half an hour after Dawn is off at school and she does come down and eat, but her zoning out times are getting worse, and I put her back to bed just before Giles leaves as he has to finalize arrangements on a place to stay that’s not the couch here, before Quentin’s visit which is coming up soon.
Afternoon classes are fairly straight forward and thankfully over easily and quickly enough. I run into Casey as I’m making my way off campus.
“Hey!” she says, in accusatory tones, “Miryam told me—”
“Told you what?” I ask, warily.
“You have a sick roommate, and you didn’t ask for my chicken noodle soup?”
“Oh.” I laugh, unfortunately, nervously.
“What else did you think it would be?” she says, “You’re acting like you robbed a bank.” She pauses, “Did you rob that bank? They would never suspect someone like you.”
“No!” I laugh, “I just—there were some things about Willow that we—I’ll explain it to you later and I’ll call you about the soup.” I say, quickly as something is telling me to get home now.
The house feels eerie when I do get home. No one is on the first floor and I don’t hear signs of life upstairs: no music or phone chatter from Dawn’s room, no water running from the shower. Buffy could be sleeping off the antidote, but surely they wouldn’t leave her by herself in case something went wrong.
When I step all the way inside, I can hear thumping from the cellar. Did everyone go out and leave the damn demon in the basement?
I can smell the antidote strongly. I can see the pan open on the stove, but no, this is really close. I look around the family room, quickly, and find an entire glass in the trash can there. The antidote. It was just dumped in there container and all.
I reach out for everyone’s energy: panic. PANIC in the Basement.
Well, that’s confirmation enough.
Maybe the demon got out and they’re fighting down there, very quietly and without witty banter…
I reach out to Willow with my mind.
“Baby!” she says, frantically, “I was praying you’d get home soon.”
“You’re in the basement?”
“Yes!” She says, “Please tell me she just left the antidote up there somewhere—she’s decided she has to kill us all to escape the hallucinations or something—”
“I sort of have the antidote.” I say picking up the can and approaching the cellar steps as quietly as I can.
I don’t see Buffy anywhere. I can see Dawn and Willow on the floor, tied up with their mouths taped, and Xander is fending the demon off with his feet given he’s tied and bound to one of the struts. I can see the bindings. I whisper a spell and the bindings break. People collect themselves and remove duct tape from their mouths.
I creep closer, still as quiet as I can. I realize Buffy is cowering beneath the staircase, head in hands. Willow has wound up a spell, quickly, and now has the demon straining against the magical hold. Xander finds the tranq gun and shoots him in the neck three times. Willow lets go as he slumps, and he flops to the ground.
Buffy peeks out, warily, watching everyone.
“I’m just some fake burden to you, aren’t I?” Dawn snaps.
Buffy’s eyes jolt in Dawn’s direction.
“Right.” Dawn says, standing up, “Tha—”
“Dawn?” Buffy leaps for her and clings to her like a life raft, “Dawn, please!”
Dawn sinks down to hold Buffy.
“Is there potion?” Buffy squeaks out from Dawn’s shoulder, “I don’t trust myself without it—”
“Shocked I am.” Xander remarks, kicking the unconscious demon.
“Maybe?” I show her the trash can which has the partially full glass and the pool of liquid beneath.
“Great.” Dawn says, “I guess I have to leave while you milk him and brew another potion?”
“Can we wait another 16 hours?” I ask.
“Please.” Dawn says, extracting herself from Buffy, “I don’t think we can survive that long unless we get some adamantium chains to tie her down here?”
“Oh, God, Dawnie—I’m sorry—” Buffy says.
“Forget about it.” Dawn says, through gritted teeth pulls away from her sister and stomps up the cellar stairs.
Willow is murmuring a different chant I don’t catch but the trash can starts to feel lighter when I look down. I see the liquid is swirling around and around in the air gathering more and more from the can and the glass and then it begins spiraling towards Buffy.
“Open your mouth.” Willow instructs her and the potion pours down her throat as she does.
“Why can’t that stuff ever taste like chocolate milk?” Buffy asks.
“There’d be a market for stuff like that.” I agree.
“Anya would love it for the shop.” Xander agrees.
Silence stretches for a moment. I wonder how quickly the potion will take root in her system with that Slayer healing given I feel I should check on Dawn, but also that it would be better coming from her not me, but if she’s still going to have a risk of slipping sideways again that won’t help.
We’re heading upstairs but Dawn is not there. I imagine she would have stormed up to her room, venting on the phone. I’m surprised there’s not music blaring. I’m pretty sure I didn’t hear her going out of the door.
“Buffy-I—” I start, but Dawn appears, coming downstairs with her backpack and declaring to Buffy that she’s going to Janice’s.
“Okay.” Buffy says, “Fine.”
Dawn huffs and the front door slams behind her.
“What?” Buffy says, given I have bad poker face.
Willow squeezes my hand as I say, “She needs your reassurance right now that you want her around.”
“And she wouldn’t throw a tantrum if I denied her access to her friends?” she asks, tersely.
“She might a little, but overall, she’d be relieved that you’re confirming you want to be around and with her.”
Buffy sighs, “I’m not 100% sure if I’m safe to be around—”
“Of course you are.” Willow says.
Buffy shrugs.
Xander, King of Changing the Subject, says, “Hey, probably a good thing Giles wasn’t here. He’d be more put out than usual if you knocked him out.”
Buffy rolls her eyes, “It’s getting late. I should patrol.”
“Is that a good idea?” I ask her, but much like her sister she disappears with a loud slam.
“Great.” Xander says, “That’s us stuck with the Glargle Smutz.” I can’t help but be relieved that I’m not the only one who doesn’t know how to pronounce the name of the damn thing.
“Maybe we can find out who hire—summoned him?” I suggest.