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Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry for the long break. Just had my final exams - hopefully the resulting grades will get me my course in college in September! :]

So, I finally updated. My brain is a little mushy, and I've finally gone back to reading book-books today. Not online fanfiction, but actual paper books, after nearly a year of taking a break due to exam year. Oh, printed word, how I missed thee! I read the first Hunger Games book today, cover to cover in 5 hours. Am also reading The Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes. I highly recommend both brilliant books!

So anyway, thanks for keeping up so far! I'm so enormously appreciative of everybody's support, reviews, and feedback. It means the world to me, I heart you eternally! This is for you all: http://youtu.be/WztQ-IUYyiI

I hope you guys are still hanging on there! We will meet an end with this eventually, I promise. :D

Sorry, for my usual rambling, I hope you enjoy!
The next morning brought no changes to both Spike’s state, and Dawn’s attitude. She flounced out of the house as she left for school, not exchanging a single word with Buffy, who rolled her eyes at the teenager.

“Stupid teenage hormones,” Buffy grumbled, washing the breakfast ware in the sink. Finishing up the kitchen, she moved about the house cleaning, doing chores she’d neglected for a while. Willow had some classes this morning, and wouldn’t be back until the afternoon. Buffy had decided to wait for her friend to come back before getting more books from the Magic Box, so that someone could be at the house if Spike was to awake.

She checked on him, re-cleaning his unhealed wounds, and re-dressing them. She herself had healed, and to see him completely unchanged was almost as worrying as the fact that he was still unconscious.

“Damn it, Spike,” she murmured, placing the blanket over him again.

She went to the cabinet, pulling put a book that she was sure she hadn’t read. Sitting down on the armchair, she began to read, searching for that damned demon.

A while passed and the short stack of books that she’d read had grown, when Willow and Dawn came in laughing.

As soon as she saw her sister in the living room, Dawn fell silent with a glare, and headed upstairs.

Willow frowned. “She was fine a minute ago?”

Buffy sighed. “Basically, she’s mad because I don’t have time for her whining and tantrums, so she sees that the only way to get me to have time for her again is to throw more tantrums and keep whining. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, the teenage mind.”

Her friend laughed. “Well, I hope we were a little better at that age.”

“Sure, there was a world to save and whatnot. We were always a little bit occupied by fighting evil.”

“Exactly! Perfectly legitimate reasons to be upset, what with all the responsibilities! But, I get what you mean. Dawn’s been pretty overdramatic about everything. She’s overreacting a little.”

Buffy ran a tired hand across her eyes. “I just don’t have the ability to deal with this. I mean, I really can’t handle it, Will. I have all these bills, and I’ve gotta work, and keep us going. I just can’t do it!” Her voice cracked, and she ducked her face. “It’s just so hard. And now Spike’s sick, and I can’t fix him!”

“Buffy, I didn’t realize… I just didn’t… I’ll look for a part-time job, and I’ll help with the bills, Buffy, I promise. Maybe I can tutor other students on campus? I’ll help out. I just never realized…”

Buffy smiled thankfully at her friend. “God, Willow, you have no idea how grateful I am. The idea that it won’t just be me…”

Willow wrapped her arms around the Slayer. “Buffy, you just had to ask. We’d all help you, you know that.”

“I know! I was just so wrapped up in my own crap, and you guys all have your own lives and your own problems, I didn’t wanna weigh you down with all my stuff!”

“Am I right in guessing that you talked to Spike about this stuff?” Willow asked shrewdly.

The Slayer looked away, at the vampire. “I guess. It’s just easy to talk to him. It’s… different…”

“We’ll make him better, Buffy. Why don’t I go to the Magic Box and grab some books, okay?”

Buffy nodded. “I’ll fix us some food, so.”

Nodding, Willow grabbed the spare set of keys for the shop, and headed out, while Buffy started on some salad and burgers.

“Guh, I hate burgers,” she grimaced, flipping the spitting greasy patties in the pan. Hours upon hours slaving at the DMP had made her hate them, made her skin crawl at the thought of the slabs of meat, swimming in grease.

Willow came back, a pile of musty old books in her arms just as Buffy was finishing up putting the food onto plates.

“Hey, great timing. Food’s done.”

“I’ll get Dawn,” the redhead offered, depositing her books on the dining room table, and leaving.

They came downstairs as Buffy was setting the plates on the table.

“Great,” Dawn said, rolling her eyes. “Burgers. We never have these for dinner,” she complained sarcastically.

“Dawn,” Willow admonished quietly, as she and Buffy sat down to eat.

The teenager shrugged unapologetically. “I’m sick of the same crap all the time.”

Buffy’s grip on her fork tightened. She could feel the light metal coming apart in her palm, and she put it down. “Well, cook your own food then.”

“With what? The plentiful supply of good food that’s bursting out of the cupboards?” Dawn replied caustically.

This caused Buffy to grind her teeth in irritation. “Just shut the fuck up, Dawn, and eat your food, alright?” She snapped tersely.

Her sister gaped at her, before rising from the table angrily. “I’m so sick of you! I hate you!” She ran back upstairs.

Buffy sat back in her chair, eyes screwed shut in stress. “Crap.”

“She doesn’t really hate you,” Willow said, reaching for her friend’s hand.

“I know. I just keep messing this up with her. We always fought before, but now that I have to be the mom, it’s like I feel completely apart from her. I really don’t get her.”

Willow shrugged. “Just ignore her tantrums. You’ve got enough on your plate. I’ll talk with her later, and I’ll try and explain everything, if you want.”

“You can try, I guess. She wouldn’t listen to me, anyway.” Buffy sighed, pushing her salad around her plate with her fork.

“You should eat, Buffy. C’mon, we’ll get finished up here, and then we’ll hit the books. I picked up a few on venomous demons and some on vampire medicine.”

“There are books on medicine for vampires?” Buffy asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Sure, like a Grey’s Anatomy for the undead, I guess.”

Buffy nodded. “It’s worth a shot. You think it could be a venomous demon?”

Her friend shrugged once more. “It’s a possibility. I mean, it did stab him, maybe it was injecting him with something. We’ll have a look.”

They finished their food in silence, and Dawn’s plate remained untouched on the table. Once finished, they grabbed the books and headed into the living room.

Willow took the armchair, curling up with a large leather-bound book entitled A History of Mystical Maladies. She grinned at Buffy. “It makes me think of the books in Hogwarts.”

Buffy frowned. “I never get those cultural references, I didn’t read the books.”

“Heathen,” Willow accused playfully, shaking her head.

The Slayer grinned, picking up a book on various demon venoms. To her surprise, she recognized a few pictures, but not the names. Giles knew the names, she just knew how ugly they were. She flicked through the pages, running her eyes over the drawings. Nothing resembled the large shiny head of her demon, with its bulbous eyes. Though, a few did have weapons coming out of their arms, most seemed to have more than one blade. She sighed in defeat, leaning back in her chair.

“Why is this guy so hard to find? Have you got any-”

She was cut off as Anya suddenly burst through the front door, and skidded to a stop in front of them. Buffy leapt to her feet, already reaching for the axe hidden under the sofa. Poised and ready for danger, she glanced around.

“What is it?”

“Somebody stole from the Magic Box!” Anya exclaimed, panicked.

Buffy relaxed, replacing the weapon back to its original space.

“There’s books missing! I went over to collect some stuff I’d forgotten, and there’re books missing! Gone! Somebody took them!” She turned to Willow. “You were supposed to be watching the place, damn it!” She accused.

The redhead looked surprised. “Uh, I was watching the shop. Nobody stole anything, Anya.”

“Oh yeah? Well, then explain how-” Anya’s eyes caught the large pile of books on the coffee table. “You thief! You lying thief! How could you just stand there and tell me nobody stole anything, and have all the goods sitting right there on the table?”

“But we didn’t steal them! We borrowed them! It’s for research purposes.”

“Honestly, Willow. I really thought you would be above stealing. I thought it was more Dawn’s thing, but I guess not! I should’ve known to watch you! It’s always the quiet ones!” Anya reproached.

Willow huffed her indignation. “Now wait a minute, missy! You can’t just-”

Buffy interrupted, stepping between the two women, hands raised. “Guys, relax. Anya, we had to borrow the books for a little while today. Spike got attacked by a demon, now he’s in some sort of mystical coma. We just wanna figure out how to help him.”

Anya sighed impatiently, crossing her arms. They knew her stance well, the reluctance to join in and give in her argument. “Well, what kind of demon was it?” She asked stiffly.

The Slayer shrugged. “There lies the problem. We have no idea. Here’s a drawing though.” She handed Anya the pencil sketch of their assailant.

Giving the page a reluctant glance, Anya gave a sigh of frustration. “C’mon, people! It’s a wonder you’re able to save the damn world, and you can’t even identify a Glarghk Guhl Kashma’nik! It’s basic demonology!”

“A what?” Buffy frowned in confusion.

Willow turned to her. “I’m not sure that was the name, I think she might have sneezed?”

“A Glarghk Guhl Kashma’nik? Of the common Polgara breed? Surely that rings a bell?” Anya cried.

“Polgara? Yeah, I remember them from the Initiative. But what does this Glargon Ash-y Mick guy do?”

The ex-demon sighed. “A Glarghk Guhl Kashma’nik. Known for their hallucinogenic venom. If they sting you, you have your ideas of reality fragmented, distorted. It drives you insane until you finally snap and choose one reality. Usually, the victim chooses the false world, and uses desperate measures to rid themselves of reality. I’ve seen cases when victims would burn their homes to the ground, or even murder their family and friends to detach themselves. It’s pretty strong.”

“So, Spike’s hallucinating?” Buffy asked, looking down at the sleeping vampire in horror, wondering what images could be tormenting him to insanity.

“No. It only affects humans in that way, and they will be awake and lucid for some of the time. The rest, they can be awake and active, but their mind elsewhere. It’s complex.”

“Then, what’s wrong with Spike?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Anya bit her lip, uncharacteristically tactful. “It’s different with vampires…”

“How different?” Buffy demanded.

Anya swallowed.

“It’s fatal.”


Chapter End Notes:
Please don't throw rocks at me! :P



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