Monosyllabic Eccentricity

Title: One Down
Author: Lepeka
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Season 6 - AU Villains
Summary: Warren kills Willow
Disclaimer: I don’t own Buffy or any of the characters or scenarios in this story.
Author's Note: This fic is the result of W/O withdrawal and anger over Joss’ latest ideas.


I got the call. I don’t even know how they found my number. All I know is that I got the call.

With that call, the world stopped. My life ended.

A few days before, I felt something inside me get ripped out. As if half of me died. It took me hours to calm down, to stop shaking and be able to stand. I didn’t know what had caused it, I didn’t want to know. So, I ignored the feeling of dread inside me. Hoping it would eventually go away.

But, with that call, reality was forced to step in. Harshly kicking away the bliss of denial.

I had almost not answered the phone, but something within me forced me to pick it up. Xander had been the one to tell me.

Warren had walked into Buffy’s backyard and had shot Buffy, almost killing her. While in the process of trying to kill Buffy, Warren accidentally killed Tara.

I remember at that point of the conversation I had actually breathed a sigh of relief.

Not because Tara’s death didn’t matter to me, it did. No fellow human being deserves to die. Especially not like that, accidentally at the hands of a madman.

I was relieved the call hadn’t been about Willow.

Yeah… I know, pathetic. Almost three years and I’m still pining for my lost love. Holding out on the belief that we would be together as we once promised we would.

That’s when I realised the call wasn’t over yet.

When I had last visited I had given Xander my number only to call for the worst of the worst emergencies.

Why would he call someone who hadn’t even known Tara, to inform them about her death? There had to be more to the story.

Willow had gone on a rampage, she stormed off into the Magic Box and invoked some dark mojo. She went after Warren, but she was so blinded with rage that she didn’t…… she didn’t hear him coming. He killed her.

He. Killed. Her.

My Willow. Dead.

Sorry, I still can’t fully comprehend her death. I almost wish I hadn’t asked how she died.

He shoved an axe into her back. The axe was supposedly made with dark magic. Darker than what Willow could ever produce. It killed her.

Warren ran. To escape the Slayer’s wrath.

Buffy tracked that asshole for weeks. She used every means possible. Everything from expensive locator spells done by the best Sorcerers in the world, to the latest technology provided by the Initiative.

She and Giles somehow even managed to talk to Watcher’s Council into helping out with the search.

No dice.

I remember Willow’s funeral. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. I never regretted my decision to leave Sunnydale as much as I did then. My mind was plagued with “What if” scenarios. I could have stopped her from magic. I’m positive I could have. I had warned her that magic was dangerous. If only…

God… If only…

So, I took Willow’s murder into my own capable hands. Forget high-tech equipment. All you need to a werewolf’s nose and the right amount of fury. It took me a while to find him. He was somewhere isolated in the Yukon.

Good. Isolation is good. No one can hear you scream.

I found him sitting in front of a fire in an antique rocking chair.

He didn’t even care that he had killed something as precious as Willow.

I approached him. He didn’t even know who I was. How should he? I was long gone in Sunnydale when he had come around.

I merely looked at him and uttered one word. “Willow.” His eyes widened with fear. He tried to escape.
I wolfed out before he even stood up. He didn’t even have a chance to invoke a spell of protection.

I don’t remember much about that night. The next morning when I woke up, I was covered in his blood. I didn’t even care.

I washed up. Ditched the remains and headed back home. To Sunnydale. Next stop: Sunnydale Jail.

One down… Two to go…

The End

Read Sequel

Belief is such an empty word. So fake, so…pathetic. When you’re young you believe in whatever your parents tell you… The Easter Bunny, The tooth fairy. Whatever.

When you get older you believe that love will survive. That it’s the one thing that can’t be broken down or bought out.

How stupid I was to believe in it.

Belief is nothing more than a handkerchief blinding your yes with a passionate red. Belief that… hey, don’t worry! He’ll come back to you… He loves you remember. He’ll be back.

Sure, he came back. A few months too late.

Belief that love can defeat even death, that it can some how transcend everything. That because you’ve been a good little girl for most of your life the Powers That be will bring her back.

See, pathetic. I am alone. I am unloved. All because I believed in a pathetic thing called love.

But now I’m stronger. In every sense imaginable. I believe in a new mistress now. Revenge.

All’s Fair in Love and War, remember?



Go to Sequel: Two to Go