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"Buffy? Buffy?"  Willow's voice echoed throughout the void. She was in Buffy's head, but it was just a white room that seemed to go on endlessly. But as she walked, the mansion they were living in began building up around her.  Windows materialized, and the yard outside sprouted trees and greenery. She followed the walls that materialized from the ground up, walking through the living room and into the kitchen. No one was here, and all the cupboards and drawers were empty, like the first day they moved in. And everything was blindingly bright, it hurt her eyes. 

Through a giant glass window, she spotted Buffy in the backyard, accompanied by a little blond girl. The child was dancing around the slayer, while Buffy just laughed and smiled and watched. Willow immediately knew the girl was Isobelle, but she was quite a bit older.

Willow wondered why Buffy brought herself to this part of her mind; Isobelle was born just less than twelve hours ago, so how is she years older in Buffy's head? The subconscious is a mysterious place, of course, and almost anything can happen here. That was why it was hard to get people out of this state of mind. 

Without another thought, Willow went to greet her best friend and new niece. "Hey, Buffy," she spoke softly. "What are you doing?" 

"Isn't she beautiful, Will?" Buffy continued to watch her daughter prance about the yard, giggles filling the air around them. Isobelle stopped briefly and smiled at Willow, who found it odd that she could see her. That wasn't the case the last time Willow invaded her mind. Her cerulean blue eyes sparkled with innocence. Isobelle continued to dance and giggle. "She's so beautiful," Buffy whispered. 

As if she was walking on eggshells, Willow held the conversation with her, approaching each word with a delicateness. "Yeah, she's beautiful, Buffy. I can't wait to see her all grown up." 

Buffy chuckled.  "I wish life could always be like this. Peaceful."

"Buffy... do you know what's happening right now?" Willow cautiously led. It was eerily silent around them aside from Isobelle's laughter. No wind blowing, birds chirping or insects buzzing—another effect of being in this state.

"I don't know what happened... How it happened..." Buffy began shaking her head, tears welling up in her eyes. She was clearly remembering the trauma. 

Then, another voice appeared. It was light and ethereal, and Willow recognized it immediately, even if it did catch her off guard.

"Buffy, would you and Isobelle like a snack?" It was Buffy's mother, Joyce. She was glowing in a long, white gown that covered her bare feet. She approached them with a tray filled with fruit. Isobelle ran up and hugged her.

"Grandma!" the little girl exclaimed happily. She pranced around her grandmother as they drew near, orbiting her like the Earth does the sun, eventually sitting next to Buffy. Joyce did not acknowledge Willow, as though she couldn't see her.

"Buffy, you know you can't stay here, right?" Willow didn't realize how far into Buffy's mind she had gone. Joyce had passed years ago, and to see her here was surreal. The redhead had to keep reminding herself that all of this was Buffy's imagination.

The slayer lowered her head and fidgeted with a button on the white sundress she was wearing. She looked to Willow as if she were silently pleading with the witch. "Can't I just stay here a little longer, Will? Please? I mean, look at her. Look at us.  We're at peace right now. Mom is here, too. I missed her so much; I don't want to leave..."

"But Buffy, Isobelle isn't at peace. She's with Amy, remember?"

Buffy's eyes grew wide. Like a burst dam, it all came flooding back to her. She remembered what happened but tried her best to push it away. Like it was just a nightmare. Tears were falling now, but she turned her face away from Willow, as if to hide the shame she was feeling. It could not possibly be her fault Isobelle was taken, but she couldn't help but feel like it was. "Isobelle..."

"She's not actually here with you, Buffy..." Willow was trying to be as sensitive as she could, but time was dire. They needed to get Buffy to wake up now.

The slayer looked around for Isobelle, who was now nowhere to be seen. Joyce seemed unbothered by the sudden disappearance and continued to bite into an apple. Panicked, Buffy turned back to Willow.  

"What do I do, Will? I couldn't save Isobelle. We couldn't stop Amy—"

"This isn't your fault, Buffy. Please don't think this is your fault. And there is still time to save Isobelle, if you would just wake up." 

Buffy's gaze travelled to the mansion. "What if I can't save her? What if I'm not strong enough..." She glanced to her best friend and then back at the mansion. "...I haven't got the strength. I've lost her. She means the world to me, Will. I don't know how to live without her."

The red-haired witch had seen the slayer in some heart-breaking situations, but this one was the worst by far. After all, it was her niece that was taken, too. She could not bear the thought of Buffy blaming herself for something that was completely out of her control.

Willow grabbed her friend's hand and held it. "You can save her, Buffy. With our help, Isobelle still has a chance. Angel is even here now, with Spike–" 

"Spike?" It sounded like the air was taken from her words as the slayer spoke. "Wha—what? Spike is—he's dead."

Willow shook her head. "No, Buffy. He's alive. I don't know how he's alive, but we're not going to get answers until you wake up. So please, Buffy. Come back to us. Isobelle needs you." 

"She's right, dear," Joyce suddenly said, revealing that she could hear and see Willow. "Isobelle needs you right now."

Astonished, Willow began questioning Joyce. "You're not supposed to acknowledge me. Neither was Isobelle, yet she still saw me. What are you?"

"Well, I'm not part of Buffy's safe place, if that's what you're asking," Joyce casually responded. Then she faded into nothing.

The witch furrowed her brow, stunned at her new discovery, and even more taken aback that whatever that was decided to disappear before Willow could even question it. It was nothing she had experienced the last time she delved into Buffy's mind. With more pressing matters, she brushed off anymore thoughts of Joyce and focused back on Buffy, who had and endless stream of tears trailing down her face.

Willow's eyes also began to well. She wanted nothing more than to flip a switch and make this all go away, to snap her fingers and suddenly have Isobelle, safe and sound in her crib that Xander had built. She even considered doing risky Magick to defeat Amy when they attacked the hospital, but Willow knew she would not be able to control herself if the Magick grew too powerful. And if she became addicted again, they would have an even bigger problem than Amy. Willow could barely bring herself to think that her evil, Magick-addicted dark side would want Isobelle for herself.

The two best friends looked at each other. The slayer didn't seem fazed by her mother suddenly disappearing; her eyes still begged for Willow to let her stay.

"Buffy, come home," Willow pleaded. She gave her best puppy dog eyes before everything around her grew so bright, so bright that it eventually became nothing at all.

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