Chapter One:
Tashi twirled her stake and fought the urge to hum to herself. Just because she couldn't see a vampire didn't mean there wasn't one around. After all, her teacher was hanging around somewhere, just out of sight. He always did that, hanging back until she needed him or his urge to wallop something overcame him. There were usually plenty of wallopees to go around. She'd been in Sunnydale six months, and the place was still overrun. Tashi was doing what she could, but even with help it was a big job.
If vampires weren't rising, then demons were harassing campus, or a crazy warlock was trying to change physics. A few nights before, there had been a massacre at the bus station because she'd been too busy exterminating freaky aquatic monsters that were attacking ships in port. Her teacher tried to tell her she couldn't be everywhere at once, that it wasn't her fault. Bullshit. She was the slayer. It was her god dammed job description.
She hadn't been there to stop it from happening, but she was sure as hell going to greet the results before they could perpetuate the cycle.
Two rose predictably, crawled out of the dirt and growled at her. They were easy targets that practically impaled themselves on her stake. No challenge, but she wasn't really complaining. The third was a little off though. She burst out of the dirt hacking and coughing, no game face. She took deep gulps of air, like she hadn't figured out she didn't need to breathe yet. Big eyes stared at her as the creature struggled to her feet, brushing thick blond hair out of her eyes.
The new vampire struck her own breastbone a few times and sputtered out puffs of dirt and nonsense syllables. Tashi hefted her stake and tapped her foot impatiently. The fledgling gestured at the stake and hit her chest again. Finally she managed something comprehensible. "Slayer."
Tashi rolled her eyes. "Congratulations. Yes, I'm the slayer. Speaking of which..."
She lunged forward. Too late she heard her teacher shout, "Tashi, no!" Strong arms grabbed at her so that her thrust went too high, lodging in the newly-risen's shoulder instead of her heart. Her gut clenched as blood began to leak from the wound. The woman, because clearly she was not actually a vampire, blinked in shock, her mouth open.
She tried to cling to her teacher for support, feeling light-headed. But he was moving, wrenching the stake out and clamping his hand over the wound. She waited for the woman to freak out when his face suddenly changed. Tashi was getting scared; she'd never seen him react like that and it wasn't like she'd never seen him around bleeding people.
Instead the woman tilted her head at him and said, "Ow," uncertainly, like she wasn't sure it was the right word.
Spike gave a watery laugh and carefully lifted the woman into his arms. "Call Tara. Have her meet us at the store. Hurry!"
She tried to ask him what the hell was going on, but he was already gone. She made the call then raced after him on shaky legs. She'd just stabbed a woman. Was he going to tell her Watcher? Connie was going to kill her. Maybe he'd just punish her somehow, which she totally deserved. What kind of slayer couldn't tell the difference between a human and a vampire?
When she got to the apothecary shop, Spike had the woman lying on the counter, pressing some goop into her shoulder and knocking things over trying to find the bandages.
"Shouldn't we take her to the hospital?" she asked.
The woman made a high, loud noise.
"Doesn't like hospitals," Spike agreed, as though he was intimately acquainted with the preferences of the woman she'd stabbed. "Bloody hell!" Spike shouted, kicking one of the cabinets.
The woman made another pained sound and covered her ears.
Spike looked crushed. "Sorry, pet," he whispered urgently. "Can't find the sodding bandages, is all."
"They're in the cabinet just above the one you're kicking, Spike," a quiet voice informed him.
Tashi was immensely relieved to see Tara standing in the doorway, her grey-blond hair hastily pulled back, still in her pajamas. Tara smiled at her, walked to the counter, and then nearly tripped over her own feet backing away. "That can't be..."
"Well it is," Spike insisted. "Help me get her patched up."
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Pull yourself together, McClay, Tara chided herself. She finished mixing the draught and gently held the cup to Buffy's lips. "This will help with the pain," she explained. "Help you sleep."
It was surreal looking down at the living body of a woman she'd said goodbye to thirty years before. So much had happened to her, years and crows feet accumulated. The woman on her store's front counter was untouched by time. At least, her body was. Her haunted eyes gave the lie to that. Where had she been? What had they done to her there?
They'd tried so hard to rescue her, and when they'd failed... Harder for Tara was her own failure to comfort Willow in the aftermath. None of them had been the same after failing to retrieve Buffy from hell, but Willow was lost. She was glad they never told Spike what they were up to. Of course he'd been too deep in his own grief to help them then. Maybe if Mr. Summers hadn't come for Dawn, it wouldn't have taken Spike so long to find a purpose again.
She finished wrapping the wound and gave Buffy a wan smile. The slayer just stared vacantly at her, watching her every move. When Tara took a step back, the slayer used her unhurt arm to lever herself up to a sitting position. Tara followed the other woman's eyes to Spike, who was clearly giving Tashi a bit of a pep talk. Probably assuring her that she wasn't a bad slayer and that no one was mad.
Buffy slid off the counter and lurched around the room a little. Her eyes passed over Tara again with no hint of recognition. Spike stood and moved to stand a few steps from her. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, like she was trying to speak, then she shook her head in defeat. She began to cry, big silent tears. She sank down to the floor and leaned against the wall.
"I know," Spike agreed, joining her on the hardwood and gently petting her hair until she slumped against him in sleep, the medication finally catching up with her.
Spike hugged her limp form against him and rested his head against hers for a moment. When he lifted his head, there was mud on his cheek. "We have to find who did this."
Tara shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe she'll be able to tell us something, once she's adjusted."
Spike made a face. "Call Harris," he instructed, delivering the second-biggest shock of the evening. "Girl's gonna need familiar faces around."
"I thought... I thought he was officially out of the Scooby trade."
"You know perfectly well who made that decision, and the little piker can bloody well suck it up. He'd want to be in on this one, and you know it."
Tara had to agree with that part.
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Xander pulled a chair up next to Jess' old bed and cringed when he heard his back crack with the movement. Buffy just turned a little in her sleep but didn't wake. He sat and leaned forward to pick up one of her hands. Tara had washed her and changed her as well as she could with the slayer being half asleep, but there were still horrible wounds on the backs of her hands.
She was back, and part of him felt like doing the Snoopy dance for joy. But another part of him, the long neglected Scooby part, was wondering what had happened and whether the woman in his son's bed was really the Buffy Summers he had known or not. He gently kissed her palm and leaned back in the chair with a sigh.
"She recognized you?" he asked Spike.
"Seemed to, yeah. Not much for talking just yet."
"Maybe you should stick around for when she wakes up."
"Slayer will know you," Spike insisted gruffly.
It was fairly dismaying to be getting encouragement from Spike. Clearly the vampire was rattled, or he wouldn't be trying to make him feel better. "Just the same, stick around, alright? Jess is out of town, so you're not going to be bothering anyone. Unless you need to get home to Katya," he remembered.
"Not an issue."
"Sorry."
"Might be just as well." There was a hint of amusement in Spike's voice.
"Planning on starting up your obsession again?" Xander teased.
"Might do," Spike replied.
Xander nodded and exhaled loudly. "Well, maybe it will be good for her, considering how many things have changed in thirty years."
"She might find my suit more appealing this time 'round, with the soul and all."
"Yeah, well, that didn't really make her happier about the other guy." A really unpleasant thought occurred. "Speaking of which..."
"Familiar faces and that rot? Let her get herself together. She'll ask for him if she wants him. Doesn't need the shock right now."
About that, Xander mused, the vampire might be right. He settled back in the chair and watched Spike lounge against the old dresser, visibly twitching for a cigarette. Lost in thought, he almost didn't notice when she opened her eyes. She blinked at him, looked over at Spike, and then studied him again for a long moment.
He smiled at her. "Hey, Buffster."
"Xander," she replied, sounding completely confused. "Spike," she offered, pointing at the vampire. "Xander," she repeated, sitting up and crawling toward the edge of the bed. "Please. I want to go home."
Xander felt his stomach drop. "Buff, I'm sorry, we can't take you back to your mom's old place."
He watched as Buffy shook her head and gave Spike a pleading look. The vampire's face was full of sorrow. "That's not the home she means."
"What does that mean?" Xander demanded, feeling a familiar exasperation with the vampire.
"She wants to go back where she was," Spike answered quietly.
When all Willow's spells failed, he'd tried to tell himself that they couldn't pull her out of whatever hell she'd jumped into, it was because she was in heaven. He'd never believed it though, not until this moment. There was some relief in that, in knowing that she hadn't been languishing in torment for three decades.
On the other hand. "God, Buffy, I'm so sorry. So sorry."
The slayer dropped her head to her knees and combed a hand through her hair. Frowning at the grime left on her fingers, she wrinkled her nose. "Bath?"
With a sad smile he nodded. At least there was something he could do for her.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Kar for the beta job, as always. Couldn’t do it without her. This one’s going to be a little darker than my stories have been to date. I hope you’ll enjoy it. Also, I always thought it made sense that no one was chosen when Buffy died the second time, but I’m ignoring that in this story. There will be two slayer lines, and someone got called when Buffy died.