Seeking Vengeance

 Chapter 12 - The Beginning of the End

Giles was no sooner gone, than everything fell apart. Willow tried to make Tara and Buffy forget their problems and nearly got us all killed. Tara left, and Anya more or less gave me an ultimatum. Either I went home with her that night, and we did some serious talking, or she would leave. Despite my reservations about our relationship, I wasn't ready for her to walk out, so I did as she asked.

When I got the call next day at work, I felt sick. Dawn had been caught shoplifting, and there was no reply from Buffy. Of course, she could have been anywhere, but I just knew where she'd be. With my stomach somewhere below its usual location, I headed for Spike's crypt.

You know, there was something about that place. It was the last place in the world I wanted to be, but Buffy kept bringing me back. Despite the time that had passed since I had staked Spike, the dust still lay on his chair, silently accusing me each time I went there. I tried not to see it, tried to ignore the evidence that he was gone, but it didn't work.

The idea that we might need Spike at some time kept niggling at my mind, trying to push itself forward, but I was doing my best to ignore it. Awful as things were, I tried to imagine how much worse they'd be if Spike had managed to inveigle himself into Buffy's life.

The state Buffy was in this time was worse than ever before. It looked like she'd drunk until she passed out, then started again when she woke up. She was quite loud when I arrived, telling me, with her arms around me, and tears in her eyes, that I was the only friend she had left. She told me that she loved me, and begged me to tell her that I loved her. Apart from that, she wasn't making a lot of sense, and she was obviously in no condition to go to the police station.

Her clothes were dirty and wrinkled, and she was stinking of booze. I helped her to the car, and drove her home. I only just missed having to clean up the car again, because when we arrived, she bolted for the kerbside, emptying her stomach there.

Willow wasn't there when I arrived, so I took Buffy upstairs, switching on the shower, and leaving her in the bathroom while I went to phone the police and explain that Buffy wasn't well enough to leave the house. What I heard was worrying. Dawn's interview was slated to go ahead anyway, with someone from Social Services sitting with her.

I headed to the kitchen to make some coffee, then went upstairs, praying that Buffy had managed to get herself clean and dressed again. The last thing I needed to explain to Anya was helping Buffy to shower and dress. To my relief (and, yes, disappointment was there too), she was sitting on her bed, clean, and dressed in baggy sweats. Her hair hadn't been brushed, and I found a brush, and handed it to her. She held it in her hand, looking at it as if she'd never seen one before. I took it from her, and pulled it through her hair, trying to be gentle, even though I knew that I needed to get her presentable as soon as possible.

By the time she'd drunk a couple of cups of coffee, she seemed noticeably better. I suppose it's the whole 'Slayer' thing. Even the ravages of too much alcohol are short-lived.

Having said she was better, I mean she was sober, but she didn't look well. I tried to explain what had happened to Dawn, and she looked at me as I spoke, and the expression was one of guilt.

"I've messed up big time, haven't I?" she whispered.

"It's ok, Buffy. We can make it ok. They'll be bringing Dawn home after she's been interviewed. The person I spoke to said that as long as she was co-operative, there was no reason why she shouldn't come straight home. The decision on what to do, well that depends on the stores involved, and social services."

She took in what I said, but she had tears in her eyes. I didn't know whether to put my arms around her and comfort her, or yell at her for being so stupid. She was suffering, I knew that. I just didn't know what she was feeling. I didn't know how I could help. She wouldn't tell me what she needed, and I had no ideas beyond being there for her.

When Dawn got back, she was with her Social Worker, who introduced herself to me as Doris Keller. She'd obviously met Buffy before, and she just as obviously didn't approve. She brought Dawn into the house, her beady eyes scanning the rooms for anything she deemed inappropriate. Fortunately, with Tara only just gone, the house seemed ok, to me at least. Of course, Anya always tells me that I don’t see what needs doing.

It was obvious that Keller didn't approve of me being present as she explained to Buffy the new level of supervision which would be maintained. Her first assumption, that I was Buffy's boyfriend, and that I lived there was quickly quashed, but she couldn't seem to understand the concept of 'male' and 'friend' without a sexual content. I could see it in her eyes.

Fortunately, Buffy's appearance and manner corroborated my lie that she was unwell. Despite that, Keller couldn't understand why she hadn't heard the phone, and why she hadn't attended the police station.

I listened carefully to what was said. The new rules were going to be difficult. Keller would be visiting, sometimes by arrangement, sometimes not, at least once a week. In addition, Dawn would be referred to a Counsellor at school because her attendance and grades had fallen off so badly. Although it wasn't said, the impression I got was that Buffy was on her final warning, and that Keller wouldn't be happy until she'd found enough evidence that Buffy wasn't a fit guardian. The problem was, that I knew that she was right. Just at that time, and for reasons I couldn't fully understand, Buffy couldn't give Dawn what she needed.

Dawn wasn't present while Keller went through the new arrangements. She had gone to her room, running there as if she could get away from the day's events.

When Keller finally went, I took Buffy's arm and persuaded her to go and talk to Dawn. She was compliant, but that's the best you could say.

Dawn was lying on her bed, and her eyes were red from tears she'd already shed. She rushed to Buffy, putting her arms around her, looking for comfort. I suppose Buffy'd never really let her down before. She'd even died for her, and she expected Buffy to make it all right again.

I felt out of it then, like I didn't belong, so I made my excuses and left. When I checked my watch I realised that I should have been home by then, and I knew that another argument with Anya was on the cards. I'd agreed the night before that we should spend more time together, and she'd agreed to close the store quickly so we could spend the evening together. Mad just didn't describe the Anya I expected to find.

As I went downstairs, the front door opened, and Willow came in. I had to do shake my head when I saw who she was with.

"Xander," Willow greeted me too brightly. Given how upset she'd been the night before, there was something wrong with her being so happy. "Look, it's Amy. I finally worked out how to de-rat her. We've just been out. She wanted something to eat that wasn't cheese, so .."

She stopped then. Maybe she saw something on my face, I don't know.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Dawn, she .."

"Is she hurt? What?"

It seemed to me that Amy didn't need to know what was happening to Dawn, so I gestured to Willow to follow me into the kitchen.

"Dawn was caught shoplifting. They couldn't contact Buffy, so they brought in a Social Worker."

"Where was Buffy? I didn't hear her coming in last night. Was she ..?

"At Spike's crypt? Yeah. Where else? I got her sobered up a bit, but she's really shaken up. I left her and Dawn doing a bit of bonding in Dawn's room."

Willow didn't say anything to that, but her lips pursed, and I could see she wasn't happy.

"So, what happened with Amy?" I asked.

Her face lit up instantly. "Well, suddenly, I just knew what to do. It came to me that there was this scroll, and .. there she was."

I nodded, but it seemed odd. Willow just didn't seem right. She loved Tara, I know she did. How could she be so, well, up? The truth was, I was still stinging from my near-death experience of the previous day. I mean, I could've been dead as a result of that spell, but Willow seemed to have forgotten all about it. It made me wonder. If she could forget something like that, was there more? Had she done something else to me, manipulated me  to be more to her liking? I didn't have any evidence, but if it had gone right, I wouldn't have. I made my excuses and went home.

As I expected, Anya was really mad when I got there. Even explaining that the problem this time was Dawn rather than Buffy didn't help. All she seemed to be able to think about was the fact that she'd given up the chance of making more money to spend the evening with me, and I hadn't been there. She demanded that I promise that I wouldn't see Buffy for a week for any reason less than an impending apocalypse. I didn't want to promise, I really didn't. It seemed to me there wasn't a single thing that was right at Buffy's, and although I didn't know what I could do to change it, I wanted to be there for them. Anya wasn't backing down, so in the end I promised.

I just didn't know which way to turn. At some level, I knew Anya was right. I'd been neglecting her, and that had to stop. It didn't save me from a sick feeling in my stomach when I thought about how awful things were at the Summers' house. Dawn was terrified, Buffy was, well, not herself, and Willow? Something about her just seemed so off, it was almost scary.

The clincher in Anya's argument was what Giles had said. He went home because Buffy was relying too much on him and the rest of us. If I wasn't there, she'd have to cope. I heard the words, and they seemed so reasonable, yet deep down, I knew that it wasn't that simple.