Apart from the distant screams, the cemetery was quiet that morning. Willow had still been apprehensive about going to a cemetery even though it was broad daylight and Buffy was there if some demon attacked them. Buffy had told her that she needed something from Spike's crypt. She reluctantly went with her and waited outside the crypt while Buffy retrieved what she wanted to show her.

With forehead creased, Willow hesitantly took the pieces of old parchment Buffy was handing her. “When I said 'anything', I didn't think you'd be asking me to do something like this,” she said. Her voice gave away her worry as she skimmed over the pages. She'd seen the text once or twice while flipping through one of the older books she owned, and she knew what it would do. She had no idea why Buffy would want to do such a thing.

“But you brought me back to life,” Buffy replied, as if that were reason enough for Willow to do it. “You harnessed powerful forces.”

Willow glanced up from the papers with brows quirked. “B-but that's d-different. I did that f-for you. A-and for the greater good.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, pushed herself off the tombstone she had sat on after handing Willow the papers and turned her back to the witch. “Oh, cut the crap, Will.” She took a couple steps away before spinning around to face her again. “You know you only did it for yourself.”

Willow shook her head, gazing at Buffy with disbelief. It seemed like she was a completely different person. Though she had seen the look on Spike's face when he talked about how different Buffy was, she didn't expect it to be this extreme. She'd bought Spike's whole speech about Buffy only being able to put all her anger on him because she hated him but her problem seemed to be more than just about being angry. “Why are you doing this?”

“I'm doing this for the greater good,” Buffy said, mocking Willow. She chuckled dryly.

Willow raised her hand and handed the text back to Buffy. She didn't want any part of this, however glad she was that one of her dearest friends was alive. “I-I'm not doing this. I'm sorry, Buffy. You're my best friend and I'm more than happy you're back but this... This is just wrong.”

Buffy grabbed the papers from Willow's hands and then placed her hands on her hips. With an eyebrow raised, she said sternly, “You don't have a choice.”

Willow gulped and, feigning bravery, stood up tall and lifted her chin. “W-what are you gonna d-do? Tie me up a-and force me t-to do it?” The way her voice trembled and how awkwardly she stood before the slayer were enough to give her away.

An evil smile slowly crept across Buffy's face as she tilted her head to one side and folded her arms across her front.

Willow's mouth hung open. “No... You couldn't.” She stepped back, unable to believe what was happening.

“A lot has changed since you revived me and left me to claw myself out of my grave.” Buffy took one step toward Willow.

“I-I didn't know. W-we thought it didn't work,” Willow said as tears filled her eyes. “A mob of demons attacked us before we even finished!”

“Well, it did and this is what you created. Are you happy now, witch?”

Shaking her head, Willow stepped back farther to get away from the slayer who was now advancing towards her, only to back into two demons that were standing behind her. She turned around and saw two scaly yellow monsters. They grabbed her by the arms, and she faced Buffy again. “You don't want to do this, Buffy.” One of the demons placed its hand over Willow's mouth and muffled her screams.

“I really do,” said Buffy while she watched the demons take Willow into Spike's crypt.



Willow's hands were cuffed to the chains hanging on the wall and there were about five demons guarding her. She let out a muffled cry and tried to speak through the gag in her mouth.

“If you just went along with my plan, you wouldn't be in this position,” Buffy tightened the cuffs on Willow's wrists and she winced “now, would you?”

Willow tugged at her bonds in an effort to free herself. She swallowed as she tried to calm down and stop trembling. She gazed into Buffy's glazed over eyes; this wasn't the Buffy she knew.

Rolling her eyes when she saw a tear roll down Willow's cheek, Buffy spun around and signaled to one demon. The demon handed her a syringe filled with a clear liquid. Willow glanced at it and grimaced.

“We don't want you casting any spells,” Buffy whispered and took the syringe from the demon's hand. “Well, at least, not yet.”

Willow gasped anxiously and her eyes widened as Buffy approached her, holding the syringe up.

“Relax. This is just demon venom I got from Charlie over there,” Buffy said, pointing at the demon with a long, black, needle-like mouth, with fluids dripping from its tip.

When she saw the needle nearing her shoulder, Willow began to struggle against her restraints more, grunting while she pulled on the chains. As if anyone except for the demons could hear her, she tried to scream through the gag.

The slayer grabbed Willow's face with one hand, pulling her toward her as close as the bonds would allow. “Stop moving so much or this will hurt a lot more,” she said through gritted teeth.

Willow only whimpered when Buffy quickly stuck the needle in her left arm. A few seconds later, everything began to blur. Her head was spinning and she was getting woozy. Her body felt heavy. “Don't worry. The venom won't kill you. It will wear off after a few hours,” was the last thing she heard Buffy say.

“Hopefully.” Buffy chuckled.



Running his hands through his hair while he limped back and forth on the threshold, Spike cursed the daylight. He wanted to go out there and look for Willow.

She had been gone for a few hours now and Buffy hadn't come back, either. He feared that some demon got to Willow, or worse, that Buffy had. Either way, she was in danger and he delivered her right to it. Granted, Red was becoming a fairly powerful witch, raising the dead and all, but he just knew she wouldn't stand a chance against the slayer, especially one who didn't seem to know or care what was right from wrong.

He stopped walking and sighed. He sat on the third step of the stairs, groaning, and buried his face in his palms. He winced when his hands hit his bruises. He hoped the witch would come bursting through the door at any minute. He waited. It was all he could do.