“Who is next?” Jackter asked, wearily glancing around the remaining group.

“Sorry,” Dawn mumbled, taking a tentative step forward. “Can I go? Please?” she asked, turning to her sister.

Buffy looked reluctant. “Dawn…I don’t think this is such a great idea.”

“Come on! Everyone else gets to!”

The Slayer’s eyes moved to Willow, who shrugged as if to say, “What can it hurt?”

Buffy took a breath and squinted her eyes suspiciously. “What do you want to ask?”

“I want to know what Sunnydale would be like without me,” Dawn said bravely, though a quivering lower lip gave away her nervousness at her request. “If I hadn’t been made into the Key…or into your sister.”

Buffy’s eyes flew wide. “No,” she said adamantly. “No. Nuh-uh. Absolutely not.”

“Why not?!” Dawn cried. “It’s my wish, I want to see.”

“Dawn, I agree with Buffy. It’s not a good idea,” Angel began.

“Listen to us,” Buffy told her. “No one wants to know this. Ask something else.”

“Come on, Buffy…please? I really, really want to know,” the youngest Summers wheedled, giving her sister her best possible puppy-dog eyes. “I wasn’t real until over a year ago. Nothing I’ve done really happened. This is the only thing I can ask that will have made any difference.” Then she switched tactics. Shifting her weight to one hip, she crossed her arms. “You can’t tell me you’ve never wondered if life might be better without you around.”

“Nope,” Buffy shook her head. “Not that I can remember.”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Runaway summer, three months in LA,” she said pointedly. She turned to Angel. “Snow in Sunnydale.” She whipped around to Xander. “Two Xander’s because of Toth. You wanted to let clean Xander have your life.”

Xander’s mouth fell open. “When did Dawn’s memory get so good?” he asked Willow to the side. “And it was suave-Xander, not clean- Xander.”

Several “pleases” later, Buffy relented. “But if it’s painful, I have ‘I-told-you-so’ rights until you’re eighty.”

“Sure, whatever,” Dawn said breezily, grinning. She turned eager eyes to Jackter. “Show me. I want to know what their lives would be like without me here.”

Jackter nodded and spoke the incantation.

Cinder and ash, flame and fire,

‘Tis the other’s life to see we desire

Two roads before us, but one to take

Show the other, the choice not made.

*FLASH!*

London, July, 2004

“You got another letter, Rupert!” Olivia called out the back door of the flat they had shared for the two years they’d been married. “From Tara!”

Giles looked up from his spot on the back patio, a small concrete slab surrounded by greenery, and his favorite place to read the morning paper and have a pot of tea. His eyes crinkled as a smile came across his face. Rising, he hurried to the back door and took the letter from Olivia, grinning like a child.

“I swear, you’d think you’d just won a contest,” she teased, though she understood what Giles had given up, leaving Sunnydale, and that he missed the people there he’d practically reared as his own children.

Giles ripped open the envelope, addressed in Tara’s neat cursive, and walked back out to the patio, reading as he walked.

“So? What does the girl say?” Olivia asked, padding over to him in her slippers.

He smiled. “She and Willow are leaving in a few days for their trip. They’ll be in London in two weeks.”

“They’re staying here, aren’t they?”

He glanced up at her. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. It’ll be nice to have some young blood around the flat,” she grinned. “Now read! I want to know all about them!”

“Things seem to be well. They both graduated in May, and they’re sorry we couldn’t make the ceremony, or the party they had afterwards, it seems,” he smiled to himself. “Willow has decided to become a doctor!” he then cried excitedly. “And Tara thinks she’s going to continue with psychology, perhaps pursue her doctorate herself someday, but for now she’s fine with having her Masters, and has accepted a position with a clinic for abused women and children, as a counselor.”

“That’s wonderful! She has such a gentle spirit, she’ll be wonderful at that.”

Giles nodded in agreement and kept reading, now aloud. “Xander and Anya are fine. Xander’s taking on more managerial responsibilities with the construction company, more paperwork now than fieldwork, but he enjoys it, and it brings in a much better salary. And Anya says to tell you that she had another person interested in buying the Magic Box the other day, but not to worry, she ran them out of the shop, chasing them with a broom and screaming all the way. It was pretty funny. Especially since she’s huge with baby. The due date’s in only a few more weeks!”

He smiled to himself, still having trouble comprehending how things had changed in just a few short years. “We actually had a visit from Cordelia the other day. She was here to pick up something that the Magic Box carries and for some reason they were unable to obtain in Los Angeles. Anya asked me to make sure I make it clear, she offered to have it shipped, because, well, the store does that, but Cordelia seemed interested in coming back to Sunnydale to see the old gang. I thought she was pretty nice, but Willow and the others were practically stunned. Later Willow told me she was positive someone had put a chip in Cordelia’s brain, like they did with Spike’s. Guess you had to know her back when to get that.”

“Anyway, everyone in LA is fine. (People I don’t know, of course, but Willow’s looking over my shoulder dictating this part to me.) Angel Investigations is doing well. Cordelia is dating some guy named Groo (don’t ask) and Wesley is happily single and still fighting demons with the best of them. There’s a guy named Gunn and a girl named Fred working with them now that we’ve never met, but Cordelia really likes them. Angel’s fine. Still alone, still broody, as Cordy puts it, but the same. She asked about Buffy. We told her the bare minimum and she never saw her while she was in Sunnydale. I guess that’s good, but when she went back to LA that night Angel called. Willow talked to him for a long time. He’s really worried about her.”

“Sounds like everyone’s doing fine…what else does it say about Buffy?” Olivia asked, leaning over his shoulder.

Giles brow furrowed for a moment as he read ahead, then he backed up and read to her. “And since I mentioned her, let me get to Buffy. It’s the same, Giles.”

He stopped and flipped the page over, scanning it quickly, then turning back to the other side.

“That’s all it says?” Olivia asked, surprised.

Giles glanced up at her, then nodded regretfully.

*~*~*

“Woah, woah, woah. That’s all it says about me?” Buffy asked. “What…did I become a leper or something?”

Willow shrugged. “But wow! Me, a doctor! And everyone else with the careers and the grown-up stuff! Giles! You got married!”

“I’m dating Groo?” Cordelia asked, delighted. “Wonder if that one will still come true. Future stuff? Very cool in my book.”

Xander looked only slightly panicked. “So, kids, huh?” he asked nervously. Anya swatted him on the arm.

Angel nudged Buffy. “It’s changing again, look.”

Buffy turned her eyes back to the fire and found herself, from four years earlier, standing alone.

*FLASH!*

Sunnydale, April, 2001

Buffy stood silently at her mother’s grave, the morning sunlight streaming over her shoulders and hitting the freshly turned earth that marked Joyce’s final resting-place. The funeral had been just hours ago, and the other mourners had left immediately after. But she couldn’t. Leaving meant it was really over. Leaving meant she was really gone. And that meant Buffy was really alone.

Willow and Tara had begged her to come home with them, but she wouldn’t.

Xander and Anya had tried to entice her with promises of food and feel-good movies, or, if she’d prefer, a quiet night of memories; but she couldn’t.

Giles had been the hardest to deter, but even in the end he too had left her to her thoughts, telling Buffy that in no uncertain terms, he would be by her house first thing the next morning.

After all that, she still hadn’t been left to her solitude. Angel had come. He’d been there, holding her through the night. But the threat of the approaching sun ensured that she would end that night as should would many nights afterwards. Alone.

And then the endless evening was over, and day forced its way in with cheerful sunshine that did nothing to warm her. Angel had walked her home, led her up to the steps of the house on Revello, and they said their good-byes. She entered the house, shut the door behind her, and stood in the hallway, remembering how she had done so just days earlier, only to turn to the left and find…

When had things gotten so complicated? She’d dealt with the bad before. She was the Slayer, it was pretty much what her resume said, “Deals with bad.” Since coming to Sunnydale she’d faced numerous evils…The Master, Angelus, Principal Snyder, Spike…the Mayor…Faith… And still, these past months had thrown her more so than any other time she could remember.

How long ago it seemed that she and her friends had thrown an impromptu “back to school” beach party, that they’d dealt with Dracula, that Joyce had initially gotten sick and Buffy had dropped out of classes to move home so her mother wasn’t alone. It had been an eternity since Giles had given her the training room in the back of the shop, since Riley had gotten sick…since he’d left her, his exploits made clear in what Spike had found to be a grand joke, and just another way to hurt the Slayer emotionally since he was unable to physically.

When Giles appeared on her doorstep later that morning, he found her still standing in the hallway. He stayed with her the remainder of the day, taking phone calls and seeing to the duties of daily life until that evening when he was forced to leave. He’d begun teaching night classes at the local university and tonight was the final exam. He’d be gone only a few hours, then come right back, he swore.

For the first time that night, Buffy’s eyes registered on him and she smiled softly. “I’m just going to go to bed, Giles. I’ll be fine, really. I’ll—I’ll come to the shop tomorrow,” she promised.

For awhile it seemed that Buffy was handling things quite well. She made an effort to be cheerful, kept up her appearance, and spent most of her free time (but really, what part of her time wasn’t free these days?) at the Magic Box. And life continued around her.

She missed Riley, but his absence actually made things easier. She wasn’t responsible for him now, as she would have felt had they still been dating. Willow and the others were with her as much as possible, even as Buffy withdrew further and further into herself. The only time she truly felt free was when she was slaying, and luckily, the Hell-mouth didn’t allow time off for mourning. The town was busy as ever. The threat of a new Big Bad was on the horizon, a demon named Vastlos who had stormed into town in search of some amulet that would unleash an army of hellbeasts sure to end the human race. It was so typical, it was comforting.

So Buffy fought. Tara and Willow continued with UC-Sunnydale, Xander constructed the latest in Sunnydale architecture, Anya and Giles worked at the Magic Box. And Buffy slept all day and hunted all night. The few times she was up to going out, to act like a normal twenty-year-old, she’d made the calls to her friends only to find them too busy with homework or too tired from working all day.

In an odd way, Spike became one of her best companions. They kept the same hours, at least.

The night Willow got hurt, Buffy’s life changed in more ways than one. It was rare anymore for the Scoobies (who hadn’t referred to themselves as the Scoobies in quite awhile) to patrol with her, but on this night Willow was heading into Spring Break while Tara still had one more exam to study for. Things were actually going well. They were talking, chatting as they had before--when the act of being best friends couldn’t have ever been considered an act, when it was natural and easy. But the demon had come from no where, catching them off guard, and Willow was thrown across the cemetery. X-rays later showed four broken ribs and damage to her spleen. Surgery had been long and grueling, and recovery was slow.

It was then that training began to occur without Giles present, and patrolling was strictly a solo job for her anymore. All were forbidden to join her. As Buffy’s excuse for the unaccompanied slayage was “I just couldn’t stand to lose someone else,” her friends were reluctant to object too strongly. For the first few weeks they tailed her, or had Spike do so, but she became so enraged when she found them that it just wasn’t worth it, and soon they spent their evenings at home, worrying about her. And eventually they stopped worrying as their own lives began to move more quickly.

Patrolling was only the first thing to go. Eventually Buffy began to beg off from everything. She had no time, nor the patience, for what she termed “frivolous life stuff” anymore. Even hanging at the Bronze was ruled out. Willow dropped in on her at the house in between classes, only to find her friend sleeping after a night of hunting.

Xander and Giles called her time after time, only to get the machine and leave messages ranging from concern to threats of “I’m coming over there in a half hour if you don’t call me back and tell me you didn’t fall in the shower.”

Angel called. “Buffy, please, call me. I’m worried about you.”

Cordelia called. “Buffy, what is your problem? Get your ass on the phone! Angel’s all depressed and it’s driving me nuts.”

Eventually the calls stopped and the doorbell quit ringing.

Interventions were impossible, as proven before, and one-on-one’s seemed to do little good. Buffy simply smiled gently at [insert name of concerned friend here] and patted them on the knee. “I’m fine, really. I’ve just got more focus now.”

The foreclosure notice was inevitable. Had she shared her financial problems with her friends, something might have been done, but in the end, Buffy’s house was sold at auction, along with most of the items in it. What money was left, after paying the bank, afforded her a tiny room in the same hotel Faith had used in the months before the Mayor had swept in.

Her friends were in shock when she told them, just a week before the auction.

“Sold?” Willow gasped.

“What? How?!” Xander demanded.

Buffy shrugged. She’d wandered into the Magic Box on a rainy Thursday afternoon to find Willow, Xander, Anya and Giles. It was the first time her friends had seen her in weeks. “I don’t have any money. It’s pretty simple.”

“How can you be so lax about this, Buffy?” Giles asked her, shock on his face. “I would have helped--”

“You don’t have that kind of money, Giles. And all of mom’s money went to paying her bills,” Buffy said simply. “It’s too much house for just me, anyway.”

She looked worn. Thinner than she’d ever been, pale, lifeless.

“Buffy…what…what are you going to do?” Willow asked, concern in her eyes. Buffy’d shut her out so long ago but the pain was fresh.

Buffy jerked a shoulder. “Dunno. Get an apartment or something. Get a job.”

“I can’t believe this. You should have said something. You should have told us,” Xander chastised.

“So…what? We could go around the neighborhood collecting change in a tin cup?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “Save the Slayer Fund?”

“We would have done something!” He turned to Giles. “Giles, doesn’t the Watcher’s Council have some sort of slush fund for Slayers?”

Giles was still stunned by the news. He blinked a few times before answering Xander. “Um—no, no, they don’t. Not that I know of.”

Buffy shrugged again.

*~*~*

Dawn gasped. “You lost the house?”

Buffy stared from her to the fire. “I—I guess so,” she apologized.

“This is insane. No way,” Xander said, shaking his head. “No way would we just let that happen.”

“But we didn’t know,” Willow said quietly.

*~*~*

*FLASH!*

Sunnydale, 2004

Buffy trudged through her afternoon routine by heading over to the sink that served as her kitchen and her bathroom in the one-room apartment. She never rose before 4pm anymore, but mornings felt the same no matter what time of day they occurred. Blearily she went through the steps. Turn on hot water. Wait five minutes for it to become luke-warm. Hold mug under. Strain tea bag. Sit on bed. Stare at wall. In about ten minutes she’d flick on the television, if it chose to work today, and watch anything that happened to be on, as long as there was noise. In a few hours, when it was dark, she’d venture out to the streets, hunt a vampire or two, or a demon if she was lucky, and she’d go home. Tomorrow would be the same.

*~*~*

“That’s me?! Buffy cried, staring at the ragged girl in the flames. “What am I? Poster-girl for the homeless?”

The image of her wasn’t pretty. She was thin, gaunt even, and walking around in stained, baggy clothing. Her hair was thrust back into a messy ponytail and appeared to not have been washed in several days, if not weeks.

“And check out the place,” Xander murmured. The hotel room she was living in was sparse and dirty. Cockroaches skittered over the matted down rugs and there were holes in several of the walls. A single light bulb barely lit the room. Perhaps that was better.

“I can’t—no. No way,” Buffy whispered, detached. Dawn wrapped an arm around her.

*~*~*

This day’s routine changed when her ten minute wall-stare was interrupted with a knock on the door. Her eyes ticked suspiciously to the where the sound had come from and she rose after a moment. Pausing before she unlatched the dead bolt she tentatively opened the door.

Brown eyes looked back at her, and widened. “Jesus. Look at you.”

“What are---what are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d come by and check out my old place. Just miss that smell of mold and garbage,” was the retort. “You gonna let me in or what? Relax. I’m not here to kill you.”

Buffy stared at the girl on the other side of the door for a moment before moving aside and letting her walk through.

“Faith, what do you want? I’m not in the mood for another fight-to-the-death thing.”

Faith grinned and threw both arms wide. “You got it all wrong, girlfriend. I’m a white knight now, comin’ in and helping the good fight, just like you always wanted for me.” Casually she began to stroll around the room. “Gotta say, B. You’ve slid down a long way from Suburban Living.”

Buffy jerked her shoulder in what was now a typical reaction. “Yeah, well. Things happen. People change.”

Faith was watching her carefully, then smiled. “And we’re both living proof of that, aren’t we?”

“What do you want, Faith?” Buffy asked obnoxiously.

“Got a busy day of moping, planned? Late to not hang out with someone?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

Faith cocked an eyebrow. “Is that a fact? Well, you know me. Always gettin’ involved where I shouldn’t. Come on,” she said, taking Buffy’s arm.

“Wha—I’m not going anywhere!” Buffy cried, ripping her arm back.

Faith put both hands on her hips. “Ding ding! Well, you got one right, sister.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Have you looked around lately? ‘Cause I know for sure you haven’t looked in a mirror lately. Ragamuffin? Not your best look ever. I hear it’s out for fall anyway.”

“You came here to give me fashion tips.”

“No, I came here to look you up after all these years, and what do I find but someone else living in your house and all your friends are MIA. Luckily, Willy at the bar still keeps tabs on the Slayers in town. Gave me your addy.”

“I’ll be sure to thank Willy with a good decapitation.” Buffy headed to the front door but Faith grabbed her arm as she flew past.

“Ok, look. I’m no good at subtle. I saw Angel. Swung through LA on my way here. He filled me in. Buffy, talk to me. I know I haven’t exactly been Susie-Next-Door, but I think I’m the closest thing to a friend you’ve still got.”

“And what do we have to talk about? Nothing. See ya.”

Faith’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. You don’t talk. You listen. Look at you! You’re a mess! Not that I didn’t think your look couldn’t stand to be kicked up a notch before, but this is like a complete reversal of who you used to be. When’s the last time you really washed your hair? Or styled it in anything but that ratty-ass pony-tail? Remember what makeup is? Remember clothes? Real, actual clothes? Stuff that you didn’t pick up from Goodwill?”

“When did you get so high and mighty, prison bitch?” Buffy snapped. “Did you find redemption in jail, Faith? Did you find clarity? ‘Cause while you were in there, I was out here, living my life until I just couldn’t do it anymore. And I don’t need you, or anyone else, coming in here and giving me orders like they have any idea what I’ve been through or where I’m headed now!”

“And where’s that? Skid Row? You’re living here, B. Here. I talked to Xander. He told me about all the crap you’ve gone through. About your mom. About Giles leaving. About Willow and Tara daring to grow up and have lives that didn’t center around the great and powerful Buffy. He and Anya are, like, happy now. A family! And look at you. You could have done anything, and instead, you’re here trying to recapture my youth, and you’re doing it alone. And you’re not even doing it well.”

Buffy was not amused. “My mom died, Faith. And then I was alone. You don’t know anything about it.”

“Don’t I, Priss? My mom might still be kickin’ around somewhere, but I really don’t know. I have no idea where she is. And frankly, right now, I don’t care. I don’t need her anymore. But I stopped needing her a long, long time ago. That’s just the way it was for me. You had the mom, Buffy. Joyce was great. I was so jealous of you for having your little Scooby life, with the mom and the friends and the great guys, and you were better at Slaying than me, you understood it, and I couldn’t have that. And I tried blaming everything else, I tried shutting out the world, and look where it put me. First it put me in this room, then it sent me straight into the arms of the Mayor…and then it sent me to LA, and to jail. So, congrats on getting this fine luxury suite. You just took the first step on the Road to Being Me.”

“I’m not trying to be you--”

“Then don’t, B.” Faith’s eyes were huge and round. “Don’t. Don’t be me. Look around. You know this isn’t right. You know you’re miserable.”

“We’re supposed to be miserable. And alone. We’re Slayers.”

“Yeah, that line of thinking went right out the window after you got Called. You had friends, you had it all…and you’re the oldest living Slayer, ever, because of that. But this lifestyle? If the cockroaches and the asbestos don’t kill you, the job’s gonna. You can’t do it alone.” She paused for a moment, letting her words die in the air. “Aren’t you tired, Buffy? Aren’t you sick of being alone? Of having no one?”

Buffy wanted to cover her ears to block it all out. She hadn’t asked for this. She didn’t want it.

“B,” Faith implored. “Listen to me. I’ve been there. I’ve seen where you are, and it’s ugly. And it doesn’t have to be.”

Buffy held up a hand to stop her. When she raised her eyes Faith saw there were tears of frustration in them. “Why are you here?”

Faith stared at her for a moment, then dropped her arms to her sides, defeated…for now. “I got sprung a few years back,” she said easily, sitting on the sagging mattress. “This hellgod named Glory went to India, looking for this Key thing that some monks had shoved into this goat farmer…and it’s a long story. Short version, she opened some portals, lots of bad stuff came out and you were in your ‘not-answering the phone’ stage for so long that the Council seemed to think the only choice they had was to spring me. So I went to India. Wild country,” she grinned.

“And did you win?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Faith asked. “Glory got to go home, good riddance, I killed off the stuff that snuck its way here, the Council sent some magic recovery team to finish off the stuff I couldn’t. Took months. Almost a year, to track down all the badies and make up for all the damage. And now I’m here.”

“Are you staying?”

Faith watched her with wise eyes. “I’ve been asked to.”

A beat.

Buffy’s eyes closed. “Because I’m not doing my job.”

“No…because two Slayers are better than one. But I think the Council thought you might want a break. To retire.”

Buffy’s entire body stiffened and Faith caught it.

“I told them I didn’t think you’d go for that, no matter what you’d matriculated down to.” Buffy’s eyes raised to hers and Faith grinned. “What? Surprised I’d stick up for you?”

Buffy shook her head. “Surprised you used the word matriculated, and correctly, at that,” she corrected.

Faith’s smile widened and she jumped to her feet.

“Get showered, get dressed, throw on some Maybelline and let’s go. You could use a good fight right about now. Wanna spar? I’m itchin’ to kick your butt.”

Buffy remained where she was, staring at the floor. Faith wanted her to leave the room, to go out there and pretend everything was okay…that she was just a normal girl and she lived in the world. A world she’d ignored for so long now.

Faith reached the door and turned to see Buffy hadn’t moved. “Scared?”

Buffy looked up and after a moment, nodded. “But not that you’re going to kick my butt.”

Faith mocked surprise. “Did you make a joke? Did I, Faith, rogue-Slayer extrordinaire just make YOU, the mighty Buff, tease me?”

Buffy stood up and crossed to the window, glancing out at the now dying sunlight. “I don’t know if I can.”

Faith moved to stand next to her, pushing back a piece of stray hair from Buffy’s eyes. “All I’m asking you to do is come outside with me. That’s it. One step.”

*~*~*

“That’s enough,” Dawn whispered.

“Wow…of all the people…Faith,” Buffy stammered.

Xander’s eyes were wide. “Who knew?”

“Glory still came, just not to Sunnydale. Lots of stuff was the same,” Willow murmured.

Dawn shook her head, tears in her eyes. “Buffy wasn’t. You guys weren’t. You weren’t even friends. Wow…I…I’m that important?”

“Do you think the Powers knew what was going to happen to your mom, Buffy? That they sent Dawn to you on purpose, so this wouldn’t happen? ‘Cause in the other world, it didn’t sound like the Key was anyone special,” Cordelia wondered.

The group considered this for a moment before Jackter spoke up. “Well?”

Dawn met his eyes and shook her head.

“Who is next?”

Episode Seven: Xander
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