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Hilary
“Um, well, yes. As you may have deduced, it seems Buffy has reverted to some kind of primal mentality.”
Willow nodded vigorously. “She’s kind of acting kind of like the First Slayer who killed us all in our dreams!”
Xander leaned back into the couch and groaned. “Great. Does that mean she’s gonna rip my heart out for real this time?”
Anya rubbed his arm. “Oh, now, honey, I’m sure she won’t rip your heart out” she soothed, even while shooting nervous glances at the stairs.
Tara leaned forward, sweeping her hair back behind her ear. “But she claimed you, too. She claimed us as her family and her friends. She wouldn’t hurt us.”
Xander covered his face, then looked up thoughtfully. “Ok, you’re right. Anyway, this is more like when Buffy drank that magic beer and was sort of Cave Buffy.”
Giles pondered that and nodded agreebly. “Yes, I suppose that’s a good analogy, Xander.” He removed his glasses and began polishing them absently. “Perhaps wherever she has been, whatever she has gone through, has been so traumatic that she retreated into a base state of consciousness.”
Willow bit her lip. “Maybe...maybe once she’s completely calm and stuff, I could go back into her mind, see what happened?” She knew it was a risk; there was no telling what Buffy’s mind was like right now. But it might be their best shot at finding out what had happened and how they could help bring Buffy back to herself.
As Giles was about to reply, the front door slammed open and Dawn entered the living room, kicking the door shut after her and tossing her overnight bag onto the landing of the stairs.
She didn’t seem surprised that they were all gathered in her living room as she paused at the bottom of the stairs.
“So, what’s up?” She glanced around the living room. “Where’s Spike?”
Xander folded his arms and examined the floor. Anya bit her lip but remained silent as Willow and Tara exchanged nervous glances.
“Um, Dawnie, we have something to tell you. Kind of a big something, actually.”
Her interest piqued, she turned and was about to join them in the living room until she heard a joyous shout from Buffy’s old room.
“Who’s up there?”
Before anyone could answer, a streak of black leather and blond hair flew down the stairs and wrapped itself around Dawn as Spike stumbled down the stairs, grinning. A small hand grasped a hank of Dawn’s hair and began stroking it in a familiar gesture.
Dawn turned her frightened eyes to Giles, and then back to an exultant Spike, who seemed to radiate joy and a kind of frenetic energy. Trying to angle her head to see who was hugging her, she started, “Who...” but her mouth clapped shut as Buffy leaned back and gazed lovingly into Dawn’s eyes.
“Buffy?” She breathed in wonder and confusion, even as she fainted. Folding Dawn’s limp body into her own, Buffy sat down on the bottom step with the girl in her lap, stroking her hair, eyes shut and a look of pure, unadulterated love fixed on her face.
“Daughter.”