AN: This is the last chapter for this part of the saga. But the story will continue in "Of Light And Shadow: The Seventh House," which will be coming soon! Thank you all for reading, and I hope you will continue to follow the next adventure I create. :)
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FEBRUARY 10, 2008- LOS ANGELES, 2:00PM-

His face was so serene, almost tranquil. If she hadn’t seen it herself she would never have believed he was capable of that kind of magic.

And why is that? He nearly kicked my ass. The only reason he didn’t…

“…You love him, don’t you?” she asked him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to answer, but it didn’t matter, she needed someone to talk to. And, he looked…well…satisfied. Like he’d done the right thing. She just hoped that, when the time came…when it was all added up, somewhere…Tara would… “Do you think he’ll forgive you?” she asked, “Does he even know? I don’t remember much, but…Will Buffy forgive you, maybe?”

She waited for an answer, but got only silence as a response. Poor Giles… She hadn’t expected any. Just the silence to comfort her, and fall into.

She understood now. She would give anything to fill that silence. She didn’t want to sympathize, not with him, but there was some kind of peace there, and she needed peace because, truth be told, she hadn’t been at peace for years, not since she’d killed Xander. She knew she would never be able to make that right. She knew that there was no amount of penance that would wipe that from her memory.

She just hoped that what she’d done in the last five months, protecting what Giles had nearly given his life for, would be a beginning.

Her eyed filled with tears at the thought of it, what he had done. She could hardly believe it. She had known he was a powerful wizard, she had felt that power, but she hadn’t expected…She still reeled at the magnitude of it. To even attempt something like that…to love someone like that…and now…

Willow shook her head, the incredible silence of the room filled her ears, and she welcomed it. The horrible silence.

She sighed, and tried to fill the silence with things. Anything, really. Anything would do…

Willow could still remember the moment everything changed. The moment Daisy Pendleton had to exist, because Willow Rosenberg would be a target, if she was found to be aiding the Slayer, in any way, shape or form.

She just couldn’t take the quiet. She had to talk, to get it out, and Giles was the only one who knew… Her voice was unsteady. Am I crying? “I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered, “I know I’ll slip, I just know it. And if I do, it’s all over, and not just for Buffy…” her voice hitched as she realized the weight he had been under for years; she understood now why he looked so much older than he should, as he slept on, oblivious to what was going on around him.

At least she hoped he was oblivious. She hated thinking that the trauma the mystics had subjected him to had any lasting effects.

She hated thinking it, but she knew it was true, and the thought of his mind being injured so viciously, reminded her once more of Tara, and she knew…if she could only take it all back…

She hoped that Tara would be proud of her, now. She had so much to make up for, and only one lifetime. . “…for Spike, too. How did you do this for so long?” she wondered aloud, “How did you do it? How did you keep them safe?”

She wanted an answer, so badly. But she knew that she might never get one.

She knew grief could be deadly. It could be an agent of destruction, mindless in its intensity. She knew that too well. But, she never expected Angel to be the agent of that destruction. She never thought that he cared at all for Spike, from what he told them all, Spike and he hated each other; he told them that Angelus only showed himself when the soul was missing, but now she knew that it wasn’t true. She knew, because that was the first thing that came to mind, the first thing she checked; had he lost his soul somewhere? Was that the reason he was determined to destroy the Synod, and Buffy too?

No, he still had the soul. It had been that way for years, ever since their exile from Devon, really. His grief was unexpected, at least at first, but Willow understood it. It made him endearing, and invaluable to them at first…

04 SEPTEMBER 2002- DEVON, ENGLAND- 8:00 PM-

Willow stood by the door with her suitcase in her hand. If they were throwing Giles out, a man she loved more than her own father, then she was leaving too.

She sighed, not really wanting to leave. Lois said she was welcome to stay, but she hadn’t been through Hell and back with her. Lois didn’t really know what she was capable of. Lois only knew her for the bad things she had done, and Willow was afraid that Lois would never completely trust her again.

She was afraid none of her friends would trust her again. That no one would remember what kind of good she was capable of, if she were only given the chance.

Dawn said she was a control freak, and she knew she needed structure, Lois could provide that.

But she needed friends. Friends who loved her, warts and all, like Giles and Buffy, even Dawn did. They were waiting for her. She would go, and work with Buffy. Fighting the good fight wasn’t much, and Willow knew that they would never really get to stop, but that wasn’t the point.

Winning wasn’t the point. It was the fight that mattered. And she was in it now.

It would be just like the old days.

She would make Giles, and Spike, proud.

She took a deep breath, and opened the door. Stepping through it, she spotted them, standing together, their faces drawn tight in grief.

Poor Spike. Poor Buffy.

She was surprised to see Angel standing there too. He was standing away from Giles, and Buffy. Dawn wouldn’t even look at him, and that was just as well, because Willow could tell that he wasn’t paying her too much attention.

His face was hard and drawn, like theirs, but…more somehow, and it wasn’t from the bruises on his face.

The bruises Spike left him with.

Her breath caught at the sight of him. It was shocking, how he looked. She was wary, almost frightened by him. Could it be…?

She stretched her senses… No, Angel was still Angel. His soul was there, but it was buried under so much guilt.

She nodded sadly. I know how he feels…

Willow approached the sad group, “Well, looks like I’m heading back to Sunnydale with you,” she said. Her voice was tight as she looked at Buffy. She wasn’t going to cry, “I can’t stay here,” she told Buffy, giving her a gentle hug, “It would only remind me of…”

Buffy nodded, swallowing hard. Willow was so glad that she didn’t have to say his name; the thought of what had happened- it hurt too much.

“Angel says he has a jet,” Buffy said softly, “He can bring us home, to Sunnydale, then we can start over. Fight, and make it better, somehow. We can be in Sunnydale by tomorrow night. We’ll be home, and we’ll start over. Fight…for him.”
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