Disclaimer: see prologue.
The Slayerettes would have had heart attacks. Giles’ apartment was in shambles; bookcases and chests of drawers overturned, relics, weapons, and books covered the floor in drifts, and in the middle of it all sat Rupert Giles himself, normally the soul of caution and the epitome of anal retentiveness when it came to his books. As he came to the end of another book, he cursed loudly and tossed it over his shoulder to join the growing pile of others behind him. He snatched up another large volume and leafed through it with shaking hands, gripping the spine so tightly his knuckles turned white and his fingers left imprints in the hard leather.
“No, no, *no*. . .” he whispered, tossing the book aside and rubbing his hands roughly over his face. Inhaling shakily, he got to his feet, fighting the impending darkness hurtling towards him with every fiber of his being. He kept their faces in front of his eyes, the faces of his charges, the six teenagers who depended on him to tell them what to do, in an effort to keep a firm grip on his consciousness, on his memories. Tripping over books, he made his way to the front door of his apartment, snatching his keys up off the coffee table. The urge to protect, to warn the children propelled him out the door and to his car. Giles never noticed that he had forgotten to close and lock his front door.
Buffy cast a worried glance at Willow. The redhead was sitting on the couch in Giles’ office, her knees drawn up to her chest, rocking herself back and forth. She seemed to have forgotten who Buffy was as well, having pushed the Slayer away after awhile with only a confused look. Her tears had run out a while back, for which Buffy was extremely grateful. Willow had always been her rock, and she could barely keep her emotions in check when the hacker was upset. She now felt marginally calmer, even though the fear had returned in earnest since she realized what was going on. She herself had begun to forget things. . . thankfully only trivial things so far. She could no longer remember which backpack was hers and which was Willow’s by outward appearance only. After opening the green one and seeing some bags of herbs and a book of spells, Buffy deduced that the blue backpack was hers. She hoped that Oz would return with Giles and Xander soon. She didn’t want to leave Willow alone in this state and she needed to get this thing reversed before she forgot more important things. Slayer things.
“Buffy!” The blonde jumped a foot in the air at the sudden call of her name, whipping around to see Xander, a silly grin plastered on his face. She rushed over to him, throwing her arms around the boy and pulling back to look him in the face as she spoke.
“Oh, Xander, I’m so glad you’re here, Will-mmmph!” Her sentence was cut off as Xander grabbed her around her waist and pulled her in for an enthusiastic kiss. Catching him off-balance, Buffy threw Xander to the floor, wiping her mouth.
“What the hell was that?!” she yelled at him, as a hurt and confused look sprawled across his features.
“Aren’t you happy to see me?” he asked mournfully, pulling himself to his feet with the aid of the counter. Buffy stared at him incredulously.
“Yes, I’m happy to see you, you have no idea how happy, but a lip-lock never entered the ‘happy to see you’ scenario before!” she snapped, her confusion over the whole situation mounting rapidly. Xander picked himself up off the floor gingerly.
“What , do you mean to tell me that we never kissed?” he asked warily, being careful to distance himself from Buffy’s fists, noting the confused yet angry expression on her face.
“Of course not! What were you -” Buffy stopped in mid-sentence as she realized what she was about to say. Slowly, her eyes wide and frightened, she turned her head to look into Giles’ office at Willow. “Thinking. . .” she whispered, realizing at once that what was ailing Willow was abviously much more serious than she had originally thought. Even forgetting things herself hadn’t really made it as real for her as seeing Xander deteriorating as well. Something was wrong, very, very wrong, and so very beyond her ability to understand or fix. She needed Giles. The fear started again inside of her, tying her stomach into knots as she focused on Xander again. “Oh, no. . . Xander, no. . .” she breathed as tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision. Xander’s worried countenance doubled, trebled, and cleared again as the salt tears fell down her face.
“Buffy? What’s going on? Is there something wrong? Buffy?” Xander asked her persistently, getting no reaction. Buffy closed her eyes for a brief moment. //Forgive me, Xander,//
“Wha-?” she queried softly, looking over Xander’s shoulder. The ploy worked, and Xander turned halfway, craning his neck to see whatever had caught Buffy’s eye. While he was still turned away, Buffy quickly snatched up a large book and knocked him hard on the temple, effectively rendering him unconscious for the time being.
“Sorry, Xand,” she whispered, taking his forearms in her hands and dragging him into the office. Once there, she grabbed him under his arms and hoisted him into Giles’ desk chair. Buffy turned quickly, gracefully dropping to her knees in front of Willow.
“Will? Hey,” she said softly, brushing silky strands of red hair out of her friend’s eyes and behind her ear and turning her chin to look into her eyes. “I’m gonna go find Giles. . . you stay here, okay?” Willow just stared blankly ahead, not even a glimmer of acknowledgement in her normally expressive green eyes. Choking back a sob, Buffy got to her feet and exited the office, closing the door. She took three steps away from the office and stopped suddenly, turning back to look thoughtfully at the closed door. An idea came to her suddenly and she turned on her heel, walking swiftly over to the two backpacks lying on the table. She looked from the blue to the green and back again before making a small, strangled sound of frustration and ripping open the green one.
“Dammit!” she cried as a multitude of books, some new and some ancient, and a few plastic bags of herbs and dried flowers spilled out. Tossing the offending sack aside angrily, she unzipped and upended the blue one, rifling through the stakes, holy water, crosses, makeup, and one or two books before she got to what she wanted: a spare ring of keys to the doors of the school and the doors in the library that Giles had given her last year after Angel had lost his soul. Just in case, he had said. Buffy crossed the room in long strides and hesitated only for a moment before turning the key and locking her two best friends in. She then turned and fled the library, going to find her Watcher.