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Betrayal
A Letter From Willow
Hey, Buffy. Probably a mistake to write this letter. I might just keep it to myself. But I'm writing for myself as much as for you anyway.
It took a lot to make me lose faith in your goodness. I know sometimes you have to do things that feel wrong. That's part of being the Slayer. You don't always get an easy way out. But I trusted you–we all trusted you–to always fight evil, never join it. That's one thing I thought I would never have to doubt.
The idea that you would intentionally harm poor Dawnie is so scary I can't even find the words.
It all started over a month ago, with three connected events on October 13. We didn't see the connections in time. I wish we had.
The first event seemed like nothing at the time: your sister accidentally knocked over an elderly woman on the sidewalk, breaking her cane. But the woman wasn't angry, she just asked Dawn to help walk her home. Thank god I ran into them and offered to help too.
The second event didn't come to light for days, and Giles was the only one really worried about it. He got word that Faith had become ill in prison on the 13th: passive, unresponsive, refusing to speak or even eat. She was living on an IV drip, and nobody knew the cause. We all knew that Faith was still as crazy and dangerous as ever after turning herself in. She couldn't hide that from the Council's spies. So Giles was suspicious from the start–a ploy to get herself moved to a lower-security area, maybe? He talked to the Council and steps were quietly taken to make sure that wouldn't happen.
The third event of the 13th was the most important one, but it went unnoticed for weeks–until Tara and I stumbled across it this morning. Somewhere in my studies of witchcraft I know I've come across mention of the Feast of Cael Hagn. I don't think I ever knew the actual date, though. It's a dark festival dedicated to an ancient and evil god, who many believe never even existed. A few obscure cults still observe the Feast, but none of them seem to have much actual power today.
I awoke this morning, in our motel hideaway, to find Tara sitting naked on the bed beside me, watching me sleep with a look on her face that I know very well. I smiled sleepily, and before I could even speak we were kissing. Soon we were off the bed, blanket and all, and she was kissing my face and neck and pulling my underwear off. A very nice awakening in the midst of these terrible times! I will spare you the sticky details, but suffice it to say that I ended up ten minutes later face down on the floor in Tara's piles of notes. Breathless, naked, and feeling pretty damn fine. It was very lucky, because the vital clue was right there in Tara's pages. She'd put extra detail into the calendar for a spell she's been practicing. She even included festivals of no known significance–and there, on her chart, I saw "Oct 13: Cael H."
Suddenly the pieces fit and I understood what we are really up against. Tara, Giles and Anya spent most of today collecting every scrap of info that they could find on Cael Hagn, and I scoured the 'net. I hope w're in time to stop him–or it. Because Cael Hagn is very real, very powerful–and very patient. He's been dormant and powerless for millenia, but that wasn't always so. It was Cael Hagn who cursed all vampires aeons ago, so that they had to drink far more blood than ever before. That's still how it is to this day. How many millions of deaths have resulted? This is real power we're up against. And Cael Hagn has more than humans to worship him now. Demons and vampires have been joining his cults by the dozen.
I'm convinced that Cael Hagn is awakening, and if we–if you–do not deal with Faith and the rest of his servants very soon, then he will be unleashed. If that happens, guarding the Hellmouth will be pretty pointless. This entire world will be the hellmouth. I hope Giles has already found you and explained everything. Cael Hagn's followers used a scared altar to sacrifice something–or someone!–on the 13th. We need to find and destroy that altar. If you are strong enough, then maybe it's not too late.
But when all this began we had no idea who we were up against. We knew it was something serious, though, when those demons ambushed us and forced us off the road on the 20th. You fought them off, and we were unharmed except for Dawn's twisted ankle, but it was quite a scare. It turns out Giles was absolutely right to wonder about a connection between the attack and Faith's sudden illness.
Giles had visited Faith in the prison hospital, and in his opinion her condition was no act. But it might be a spell. He thought maybe someone had attacked Faith and done something to her–maybe someone who wanted both slayers out of the picture? Not a bad guess–but completely wrong. That wasn't the connection.
Maybe we should have seen all along that it was never you under attack, it was Dawnie. It was sheer luck that I passed by Dawn and the so-called old woman on the 13th. Something about the woman struck me as odd at the time, but now I'm sure she was some kind of demon. I returned today to the beautiful house she invited us into. Guess what? It's a burned-out ruin–and you can tell it's been that way for years. Had Dawn entered that house alone, I doubt we would ever have seen her again. And we would never have even known we should be looking for Faith–not until it was too late to stop her and her ancient master.
The next attack was even more brazen than the roadside ambush. We awoke to the sound of breaking glass and poor Dawn's scream cut short. A shred of pajamas, her journal, and one drop of blood were all that remained of her.
You chased after the kidnappers, and staked three vamps, but they stalled you long enough for the others to escape with Dawn. But you did see the leader of the attackers. The one Cael Hagn called to do the job his demons hadn't been able to. Faith.
We woke Giles up to begin piecing together Faith's escape from prison–and hopefully find her hideout. But prison officials–even one in the Council's pay–told us that Faith was still there! She had never shown the slightest signs of recovery.
"That's not Faith," you insisted. You were certain it was Faith who had Dawn. You'd seen her clearly, although a sly smile was her only response when you shouted to her. So... someone or something had replaced Faith at the prison. And that would mean she was allied with some very powerful magical forces. Things were not looking good at all.
I remember hunting for Faith and Dawn with you, night after night, until we were all so exhausted and afraid for Dawn that it seemed there was no hope. Those days were hard, but they were the last time I remember feeling that you were on our side–the side of good.
And eventually we found Faith's hideout, thank goodness. Cael Hagn's evil forces were building on such a scale that they couldn't go unnoticed forever. We found Dawn alive and almost uninjured–but humiliated. Poor Dawnie! She'd been kept tied up and naked in an abandoned gas station outside of Sunnydale. Sobbing with relief, she said she couldn't remember what had happened to her. But Tara and I looked at each other–we could tell she remembered more than she was willing to say.
Tara and I crept away with Dawn while you battled Faith. We waited for seven hours before you came home. You were in a shocking state. Faith had actually broken your leg, and you were badly bruised. The driver's window of your car was smashed out, like you had made a narrow escape. But you wouldn't talk about it.
That was the night you changed. That was the night you began keeping secrets. That was the night you began to follow in Faith's footsteps.
Dawn had been taken from your house once already, so we moved into hiding. Tara and I got one cramped motel room, and you and Dawn took the next one. Your leg healed with amazing speed and you went back to patroling–but always alone now. We guarded Dawn while you hunted. You had great success in destroying the new horde of demons and vampires. Too much success. I followed you one night and saw you stake nine vampires in less than a minute. You were moving faster than I had ever seen you! I felt bad watching you like that, but when you returned you were keeping your own secrets. You claimed to have fought only three!
And although she denied it, I could tell Dawn had come to dread the moment each day when you would come to take her back to your room. You would take her away before patrolling, and at other times too. Each time, we heard the TV come on, turned up loud, for up to an hour–no matter how late at night. That's when I really began to worry about leaving Dawn to your protection.
Our motel hideout lasted about two weeks before Faith tracked us down. Tara and I watched through the curtains as you fought her in the parking lot. She needed no demon cohorts this time. This time, she was stronger than any Slayer. She flipped a car over like it was made of cardboard, nearly crushing you! But her confident grin was mirrored by your own, and to our amazement you flipped the car back at her even harder! Faith's grin turned to gaping surprise. She fled, but I caught her enraged hiss: "I guess you aren't the goody goody you like to pretend, B! How does it feel, Big Sister?"
The look on your face as you lunged after her motorbike was truly terrifying. Faith was lucky to escape alive.
We stayed in touch with Giles by phone, trying to figure out what Faith wanted with Dawn. Tara's theory: what if Dawn, as the Key, was a source of magical power to one who knew how to tap it? Faith had captured Dawn, and now she had super Slayer powers. Then you captured Dawn back–and now you were even stronger than Faith! We couldn't help but wonder. What if Dawn told you what she wouldn't tell us? What if she told you what dark magic Faith had done? And what if you, faced with such powerful enemies, were tempted to do the same magic? I didn't want to think it, but Tara's theory fit the facts. And now we know she was exactly right.
The most disturbing part was that you were harming Dawn in the process of strengthening yourself. What else could Faith's remark have meant?
We changed motels, even though it seemed you could defend us all just fine now. I tried to get to your sister to tell me what you were doing to her. But she wouldn't open up. She seemed to have grown accustomed to it after a while. She didn't shudder when you came for her anymore. It seemed like she was glad to be giving you strength, no matter what the cost to herself. Her selflessness made me even angrier with you and your secrets.
I tried talking to you, too–but you were in a very bad place, snapping at people all the time for no reason. Tara and I could tell that what you were doing was tearing you apart inside–and yet you did not stop. Your new strength remained, and Dawn continued to blush and turn silent whenever we asked her what was going on. One night when you came for Dawn after slaying, we innocently suggested letting her sleep in our room just for fun. You sent Dawn to your room before even answering us, and you flatly refused to allow her to sleep over. I broke down and yelled, "She's your sister!"
Your quiet, heartless reply chilled me: "Yes. But not really." Never before had you acted like Dawn's origins made her any less human, any less deserving of love and protection. Then you slipped out without another word, and soon the TV was on.
Tara and I both saw you becoming more and more like Faith–probably without even realizing it yourself. We tried to tell ourselves that you would just draw the strength you needed from this, and then you and Dawn would both be OK in the end. But we couldn't shake the sense that what you were doing with Dawn was a terrible evil, and that there could be no turning back for you. I still don't know if there can be. We cried together a lot. I don't think I could have gotten through these past weeks without my sweet Tara.
You began to calm down last week, becoming more like your old self. But in a way, that scared me more than anything: it meant you were no longer torn. You were now fully committed to the path you had chosen. You still wouldn't talk about what was going on with your sister. Even Giles knew nothing–you didn't bother to train with him very often, but when you did, you were hiding your true strength.
Last Wednesday we heard your phone ring next door–Giles I guess–and you rushed out to hunt a new wave of monsters. We had a good idea what the enemy was doing–whoever the real enemy was behind Faith. We could see that he or she would happily expend dozens of followers, just to lure you into dependence on your evil new powers. Tara and I decided that our mysterious enemy wanted a slayer–or better yet, two!
Normally you would bring Dawn to our room when you went out to slay, and you kept your room locked. But you left in such a hurry that night that Dawn was still in your room. I knocked and heard Dawn's panicked voice, "Don't come in!" I hesitated for only a moment and then walked in, not knowing what black magic I would find.
The room smelled of sweat. Dawn was naked, rummaging through her suitcase for clothes. Her eyes were wide and she was blushing deeply. "Are you OK, Dawnie?" I asked. "I'm fine–I'll be right over!" she replied, holding balled-up clothing in front of her body. Hiding wounds? No. I buried that unthinkable possibility. I forced a smile, nodded, and left, pondering the strange encounter.
Two nights ago I finally learned the unbelievable truth. I want you to know that I know.
The power went out around 2 AM, and your TV suddenly stopped. The sounds coming from your room made my blood run cold. Tara shivered beside me and squeezed my hand hard enough to hurt. I cried–not just for Dawn this time, but for you. It felt worse than your death: it was the death of your goodness. From the other side of the wall came gut-wrenching sounds of agony, in Dawn's fragile, hoarse voice. Poor, poor Dawnie!
Neither of you would answer the door. Tara went to find Giles, and I kept pounding on your door–even though I was frightened of what you might do to me–to anyone–if you could torture your own sister in that way. Finally I gave up and called your room. Dawn picked up, her breath strained but putting on an act that all was well. I confronted her point blank: "What is she doing to you?"
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Please–I can't talk about it. I don't want to talk about it. She needs me. I can finally help her with slaying like you guys do. I'm OK. Please don't do anything!" I couldn't speak. Dawn's goodness in the face of such an ordeal touched me very deeply. And I felt even more betrayed by you.
The power came back on and I sat alone, listening to your blaring TV, sad and frightened for little Dawn and for all of us. This was not the time for Sunnydale to lose the Slayer!
Tara had still not returned with Giles when the power went out again. I know I will have nightmares about what I now heard from beyond the wall. Dawn's cries of pain were more urgent and desperate than ever, and then, suddenly, she let out a single pathetic scream that faded weakly away to nothing. She must have passed out–or worse! Sobbing and hyperventilating, with a massive adrenaline rush, I burst out of my room in my pajamas, and without even wrapping my hand first I shattered your window and opened your door to a shocking sight.
The three of us were frozen for many long seconds. Me, leaning weakly against the door frame, bleeding from my clenched right hand. You, kneeling on the floor staring up at me with huge eyes, looking not menacing, not evil, but vulnerable, with shiny wetness covering most of your face. And Dawn, our dear Dawn, lying on her back before you on the bed, nude, her legs spread. The expression on her face was quite the opposite of agony. It was something like joy. I understood the sounds, now. I understood the secrecy. And I thought I understood how you could do to Dawn what Faith had done–and yet do it with love instead of greed.
There was no torture here, no pain, no dark potions or black candles. No evil. Whatever magic you and Dawn were doing together may have been difficult, but it was also beautiful. As a Wiccan, I could feel that. Relief washed over me, and I slumped to the floor, speechless.
Oh, Buffy, I am so sorry to betray you. So, so sorry! I should have trusted you better, even when you had to keep secrets. I should have trusted in your love and your goodness. Forgive me, Buffy.
Your Friend,
Willow
This story is followed by "TG4B: a Journal"
Faith was alone with me when I woke up. I was tied to some big crate, piled with dirty rags and cloths to make a kind of bed. They smelled like chemicals. My legs were tied at the corners and my arms were together over my head pretty tight. The crate had something heavy inside, cause it didn't even budge when I shook it. Faith gave me water and food but she had a really scary smile and she scared me how she was looking at me. She is so crazy.
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