Wills_redemption: If you are interested in another take, here is an article Charisma wrote about supporting victims of abuse: https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/amp/n ... jjIy6rRKi4
Thanks for your comments
Ch 25
The car ride back to Restfield cemetery had been quiet. Giles kept a firm concentrative view on the road ahead, fear that if he relaxed, his attention would turn sluggish through exhaustion. Buffy was lost in thought, going over the so many things that had happened. She’d come too close to losing Willow, and it turned out, Tara as well. If whatever happened with Ethan’s crystal hadn’t…. Buffy didn’t want to go there.
Willow and Tara were back and safe in each other’s arms. She thought she should have been surprised that Tara had gone after Willow, risked herself by also crossing the veil, but she wasn’t, not even when Anya told her on the roof. Though Tara was quiet, and often very cautious, Buffy knew she wasn’t passive- especially not when it came to Willow. Sometimes it was easy to forget how courageous, how silently strong, Tara was because usually she followed the others, held a support role. She wasn’t one to demand the spotlight- or want it even. But she would step into it when it counted, not for the praise, that would have embarrassed her, but because she needed to.
And Willow, brave Willow. Willow, whose curiosity and unending search for more sometimes got her into sticky situations, but more than often was just what they needed- when all the answers seemed out of reach. Willow would always search further and that had saved their lives more than once.
They balanced each other, Buffy realized, and were dedicated to each other beyond everything else. The ordeal with Glory proved that. Buffy hadn’t really understood the love between them until Willow had taken on Glory, and even more when Willow had stayed by Tara’s like a touchstone when Tara was unable to care for herself. Tara, who had risked her life and had let Glory take her sanity rather than give up Dawn. Buffy didn’t think she had hadn’t ever thanked Tara for that. Tara had protected Dawn, not because she was the Key, but because Tara loved her. It seemed fitting that it was Dawn, as the Key, that had made it possible for Tara to find Willow. Still, Buffy felt unsettled.
“Do you think I should worry, about Dawn?” she asked, breaking the silence only as Giles put the car in park and they crossed the street to Restfield Cemetery, “I mean we thought the Key powers were, like, not a thing anymore, right?”
“Buffy, Dawn is the Key,” Giles began, and there was that look from Buffy, the one that would not abide her sister being described as a function. “She’s also flesh and blood, your blood,” he continued. He would have anyway, without the look, “but her essence was made of the Key’s energy, that it hasn’t been used doesn’t mean it hasn’t been there. Perhaps it needs a great calling to come forth.”
“Or a great ritual…” Buffy returned, remembering the cuts on Dawn’s arms, blood dripping through the grating of the tower. She’d died for her sister, for the world, and she would do it again, but she hadn’t removed the danger of being the Key from Dawn. She had hoped that it had gone away or at least become permanently dormant, but now… As much as it had helped Tara and Willow, Buffy couldn’t help but feel wary. They weren’t so different, she and Dawn, neither had had a choice in who they were, at least the mystical part of it all. But Buffy could choose to be there for Dawn, to always protect her little sister.
“We will find out everything we can,” Giles assured, knowing full well Buffy’s concerns. They were valid, and the more Giles considered all the implications, necessary to consider.
Buffy nodded and pointed them to the right. They had things to do first, and she trusted that they would look into it, later.
Ahead, a series of small stone buildings jutted out above the surrounding headstones, “Spike's crypt is that way.”
Under the early bursts of sun rays, a slumped and lifeless form draped across a grave. Tall shadows fell across the body, dissecting it in contrasting hues.
Coming upon the sight, Giles placed a hand on Buffy’s arm and she stopped with him.
“I don’t think we need to see Spike anymore,” he explained, calling out as Buffy moved forward, “it could be a trick”. The person’s face was turned away, but the shirt left no doubt who was lying there.
“Giles, there’ s blood.” There wasn’t much, vampires rarely wasted, but there was enough to see that Ethan had been attacked. The paleness of his skin meant that he had lain there for a while. Dead. Buffy knelt beside him, checking for bite marks anyway.
Giles stood, several feet away, his own face paling as he stared at the man on the ground.
“Are you ok?” Buffy asked, brushing the dirt from her hands on her coat.
“I suppose he made his own bed as the saying goes. And I despised him.”
“But he was also your friend,” Buffy filled in. There had been just a hint of loss under Giles’ words.
“Once. Yes.” And with those words Giles realized what he was feeling was nostalgia. Ethan, his friend, had been gone a long time. He gestured at Buffy to stand, “Let’s go home. The police can deal with this.”
With a final look at Ethan, Buffy stood and they resumed their way back toward the parking lot. They would let the police know and tomorrow the newspaper would read “Another Attack by Gangs on PCP” or maybe they’d blame it on wild dogs again.
“Should we bother Spike,” Buffy asked as they passed his crypt, “I so wanna disturb his beauty sleep.” She smiled, because she did think it would be fun, but also to get a smile from Giles. What he gave was more of a smirk, but that was enough.
“He couldn’t have done this,” Giles reminded.
“No, but he may have seen something.” They continued on, crossing the dewy grass toward their destination.
“Nothing that will help now. I have a phone call to make and sleep I am very much looking forward to,” Giles said, sleep calling him more with every step. He waved a hand back to where they’d been, “but if you want to stay…”
“Nah, we’ll get the scoop tonight.” As curious as Buffy was, it could wait. Giles was right, there was nothing more to do, and that felt really really good. Something else would come up, it always did, but for now, home and bed.
“Yes, now that the danger is over I am rather intrigued,” Giles spoke as he unlocked the passenger side door for Buffy. “I have always wanted to know what the Otherworld was like from a firsthand account. Willow and Tara have experienced something few have.” He stood at the open door and Buffy could see the Watcher wheels starting to turn.
“Get in the car Watcher man. Phone call then sleep, remember?”
Giles chuckled at himself sheepishly, “Yes. Quite.”
He rounded the car and sat before the wheel. With his keys in the ignition he turned to Buffy. It was just a quick look and an even quicker smile they shared, connecting for a brief moment.. They’d gotten through another night together and now they were going home.
In my opinion Willow's analogy is perfect - I'm sure Anya does the "dance of capitalism" every evening after counting what she earned at the shop.
