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Title: Solving Insecurities (sequel to How Can One React) (Gr/W)

Author: Jesmin

Email: notsil314@juno.com

Rating: R (violence)

Summary: The group finds out more about the paths for Graham to choose from, and we find out a little more about what is going on with Willow.

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, FOx, WB, and Mutant Enemy owns Buffy and Co. Davis/Panzer and Rysher own Highlander characters. Blah, blah, blah...

Feedback: Yes please!!!

Author's Notes: For all of you who don't watch Highlander, it will go more in depth in the next story on what it means to be an immortal. Plus - cross your fingers - I think I may close it up next time. Should Willow and Graham live happily ever after? Your feedback will determine their future.

Dedication: To Jessica (to whom all of this series is dedicated). She is my feedback buddy and keeps me writing. Thanks Jessica for all the encouragement!

He had arrived at the mansion with Angel and Cordelia. Angel had set about warming the place up a little, while Cordelia went about making sure that everything was in a presentable state for the guests that were about to arrive. Graham, though, just sat on the couch, staring at the fire Angel had set. It mesmerized him, calming him of the different paths that forked before him. Placing his hands in what he thought of as a steeple position from a childhood rhyme about church, he rested his chin on top of his two index fingers as he leaned forward. Closing his weary eyes, Graham felt the heat on his face and concentrated on that, relishing the moment as long as he could.

The stillness was disturbed by the pain he had felt earlier. Lifting his eyes, he looked up as Duncan MacLeod walked in. Locking eyes with him he felt a small part of the buzz leave. Narrowing his gaze, he waited for Buffy and Wesley to enter before finally sighting Adam Pierson. As he did Duncan, he locked eyes with Adam, sharing in their awareness of each other and then felt the pain drift away to only a very small buzz in his head. So, this was the warning feeling that they told him he had felt earlier, warning him that there were other immortals around.

Buffy set about closing the curtains. Angel, walking in, commented, "It isn’t sunrise for a few more hours."

"I didn’t want to forget."

Adam Pierson sat beside Graham on the couch and threw a manila folder onto the coffee table. "I think you may be a little interested in this."

Graham opened it up and pulled out several reports. The one on top bore the letterhead known to the Initiative. It had a stamp on the top, marking it as secretive and to be destroyed. Looking at the date, Graham realized that it was written while he had been posted on the Sunnydale base. Starting out, it discussed the enhancement drugs Walshe had been feeding the soldiers. Focusing on all the medical terms describing what the drug was made of and the side affects of it, he found himself thrown when his own name was thrown into the mix, almost as an afterthought, "As we administer these drugs, I often think about what I have sensed in Graham. Will these drugs add or subtract from his ability to live in the game?" Then, just as suddenly as he was mentioned, he was once again forgotten."

Shaking his head, he looked over at Adam and asked, "How did this get to you? It should have been destroyed."

"I am part of a group called the watchers that observes and records the life of immortals, but never interferes. My job is to study archives in order to come up with a place that the oldest living immortal, Methos, may be hiding. During this search, I came up with a diary by a friend of Methos by the name of Levi. Reading it, I realized that it was actually a collection of prophecies. One of them was about an immortal/vampire hybrid that would come to be over the Mouth of Hell."

From the side, Wesley asked, "And what role did it say this hybrid would take?"

Shaking his head, Adam remarked, "It was very cloudy. According to Levi, this hybrid could choose any number of directions to take, and each direction had certain consequences. It did mention that the fate of our future may rest on this immortal’s decision."

Looking back at Graham, he continued with his prior explanation. "Anyway, after finding this, I contacted an old friend of mine with connections in the watcher’s council that are higher than mine. My friend, Joe, made a few inquiries and found out that the book had been misplaced because of its tie to Methos. Supposedly, thousands of years ago, there was one united watcher’s council that observed and took part in the supernatural. It split, and half of the group focused on studying immortals while the other group concentrated on the darker side of the supernatural, focusing mainly on their chosen warrior."

"The slayer," remarked Buffy, not looking at the group but staring at the fire intently.

Adam nodded. "Yes. The slayer. Anyway, learning of this other council, Joe decided to use his position to contact them. In lieu of the situation, they agreed to let us have their information if we sent them ours. This document was part of that trade."

"Yes, but how did this so called council get their hands on this document?" asked Graham.

Turning around, Buffy met Angel’s gaze and then commented quietly, "The council must have been in league with the Initiative." Turning back to the fire, she added, "Those bloody wankers..." As Cordelia started laughing, Buffy turned and asked, "What?"

Getting control of herself, Cordelia remarked, "You said bloody wankers. Hanging around Spike is even changing your vocabulary."

Ignoring them, Graham leaned back and studied Adam. After a minute or so, he asked, "Another question: If the watcher’s council does not believe in getting involved with immortals, then why are you with them?"

"Why is that a problem?" asked Cordelia.

Angel smiled and answered, "Because he is immortal."

"Oh." Sitting with a thoughtful look on her face for a few seconds, she smiled and then ventured on. "So, let me guess. You are probably working on your own case, making sure that you stay a myth and legend instead of becoming very real, because then people would be hunting for your head just for who you are."

Wesley rolled his eyes at Cordelia and then noticed that Adam was nodding his head and smiling. Sitting forward and pushing up his glasses, he remarked, "So you are Methos, the oldest living immortal?"

Duncan slapped Adam on the back, "Yep, the old man is at least 5,000."

Sitting back again, Wesley shook his head and stated to know one in particular, "I knew he wasn’t telling me everything in the car. ‘Just a watcher,’ he said, trying to keep me away from the truth because everyone knows little Wesley can’t handle it. Why can’t people just trust me and give me more credit...."

Cordelia waved Wesley off, telling the group, "Don’t pay attention to him. He has issues. Kind of paranoid sometimes."

Tearing the group away from Cordelia, Angel commented, "Does the prophecy say anything about Willow taking over the Hellmouth?"

Adam politely took the papers from Graham. Turning through what looked like pages copied from a diary, he stopped on one of the pages and read, "Deception will pour from his beloved, trying to mirror the innocent soul that was exiled well before her turning. The beast with in, puling the strings of reality, will crave for the power that calls from the mouth of Hell. Manipulation is her game, and she will revel in it by deceiving even those close to her until their destruction. The blood of many will be on her hands, but yet, she holds the key to him, keeping our own fate in flux upon his hands."

Cordelia shrugged. "That’s great and all, but does it tell us how to destroy her?" As every one looked at her with an exasperated look accompanied by audible sighs, she added, "What? Have we not discussed already that there is more to this Willow than Willowy goodness?"

Angel frowned as he glanced at the stoic Graham. "Cordelia is right. Does the prophecy mention how to stop Willow from taking over?"

Adam nodded and looked down the page he had been reading till he found a spot that he was searching for. "Only by destroying the vessel will the sleeper be set free." Looking up at everyone, he remarks, "Levi has written a few notes, commenting that as long as the chosen one doesn’t allow her to drink from him for a prolonged time, the vessel can be destroyed like any other vampire."

Graham stood up and walked to the fireplace. His normally emotionless eyes turned to everyone. Closing the baby blues, he tried to keep the tears from falling. He was so tired, so hungry, and was being faced with the thought of killing the person that had truly held onto his heart for the last year. Opening them, he asked, "And what if I decide not to kill her?"

Adam took in a deep breath. Normally, he would just come out and state in a matter-of-fact tone that there was no other way to go. Something in Graham’s eyes spoke to him though. Pursing his lips together, he sighed and then answered, "Then whatever is Willow now will use you to her advantage. She will wipe out the current master and any other vampires on his side. Then, it says that she will either take your head or keep you as her never ending food source as she takes over the Hellmouth. She will use magical powers to enhance her followers, and they will slowly branch out, taking over the world by releasing powers only known to the world in the days of darkness, the days before even man was and the world was over run by dark magic. Blood will line the streets, flowing freely for the demon world to feast upon."

Graham rubbed his eyes and then shook his head, sighing. Quietly, he commented, "As much as I hate to say it, we might want to get Spike out of there until I go back to Willow."

Buffy nodded. "No problem. He has another few hours before sunrise, so getting here shouldn’t be an issue."

*****

Spike had barely hung up the phone when he sensed his childe standing in the doorway. She had on a long white dress with blood stains covering the front of it. Leaning into the door, she closed her eyes and seductively moved her head in a flowing motion. Spike could hear her as she sniffed at the air and then slowly opened her eyes. Murder burned in them as she walked into the room. Slowly walking to him, she swayed her hips back and forth. Grabbing onto him, she wrapped one of her legs around him and leaned in. Grinding herself against him, she proceeded to grab his head and bring it down to her mouth, Nipping at his ear lobe, she asked, "Why can’t I smell my sweet Graham?"

Closing his eyes, he tried not to react to the feelings she was producing in him. Trying not to growl as she rubbed her fangs against the skin of his neck, he answered, "He was troubled and decided to take a walk. I haven’t seen him since. Who knows, maybe he will stay out long that the sun will do him in."

Willow hissed and scratched at his face, leaving small lines of blood. Game face on, she growled as she said, "You sent him away from me. Daddy wants to hurt his baby girl." That being said, she threw herself out at him, reaching with her fingers to his eyes.

Spike stepped aside, and as she passed him, pushed her towards the bed. Willow turned to him, trying to steady herself as he hit her with a bruising slap. As she fell on the bed, Spike jumped towards her, trying to pin her down, but Willow kicked out, making contact with his stomach and sending him staggering back into the corner of one of the dressers in the room. Straightening up, Spike glared at her and started towards her as she pushed herself off the bed. In an attempt, Willow kicked out at him again, but Spike caught her foot and twisted her leg, causing her to lose her balance. Willow let out a groan as she fell to the hard floor, her head making a large, sickening thump. Thinking he finally had her, Spike jumped onto her, straddling her stomach, and reached for her head, intending to hit it repeatedly against the floor. Willow reached over and grabbed a vase from a night stand and let it crash into Spike’s head. Spike roared in pain as he reached for his own head instead. When he finished, he looked at her with burning eyes. Now sitting on her with his whole weight, Spike reached for her hands. For several minutes they struggled. Then, finally, Spike pinned her hands to the ground, and in doing so, smiled at her from the enjoyable dance.

As Spike leaned in towards her, Willow lifted her head some and licked the blood off of his cheek. Eyes clouding over, she laughed, "Ah, daddy’s blood is weak, taunted by the slayer, but my darling boy’s is so much stronger."

Spike growled, letting his game face come on. In seconds, his teeth dug into her neck., marking her as his again. As he bit down, she whimpered, causing him to bite even harder, relishing in the pain he felt from her. Then, all of a sudden, her cries subsided. Silence hung in the air, and then, in a clear, eerie voice, free of evil and hate, she simply stated, "Oh goddess, what have I done? Please forgive me. Buffy, Giles, Xander, Tara, Graham...." The voice tapered off with each name and then stopped, as Willow seemed to pass out.

Backing off, Spike thought that Willow had fainted but then he jumped as her eyes flew open. Fire burning with in them. Spike grabbed her chin, commenting as he forced her to look at him, "You belong to me. Don’t forget that."

Shaking her head from his grip, she started to hiss. "No! I don’t want to belong to you. When I look at you, I am sickened for all I see is the slayer. You smell of her, reek of her. Putrid slayer!" She bit out the last words and then spat in his face.

Spike slapped her again, causing a small stream of blood to run at the side of her mouth. Wiping the spit from his face, he remarked, "I’m going out."

Willow frowned as he got off her and headed to the door. "It’ll be sunrise soon."

"I’ll find a spot to rest," he replied, not even looking at her as he walked out. Slamming the door shut, he didn’t look back.

Willow licked at the blood by her mouth. Wiping the rest away, she smiled. In a voice, deeper than her own, she remarked, "God, how I will love ripping his heart out. To bad it will turn to dust and I can’t eat it."

*****

Willow set the bowl of soup on the night stand beside her and wrapped her arms around her knees. Resting her chin on them, she tried to shut away the thoughts that were flowing through her mind, but in her tired and weak state, she couldn’t seem to hold them back. Wiping the tears from her cheek, she sniffled and then sat back on her pillow. Here she was, all alone, sick, and other than Tara checking in on her between school and working the fortune table at the Magic Box, Spike had been the only other person to see how she was doing. For three days, she had been shut up in her room, and everyone else was too busy to come and check on her. Buffy had her slayer duties and studying - which she seemed to focus more on now that Riley was gone. Giles was working the shop all the time while also sticking to his watcher duties. Then there was Xander and Anya, who only spent their free time with each other.

Willow grunted and sniffled again. Scrunching up her nose at the pain in her throat, she reached over and sipped her tea as she went on thinking. Had it always been this way? Yes, it had. All the gang ever worried about were themselves - and Buffy of course. The universe centered around her. Angel left, and everyone was, ‘Oh, poor Buffy.’ Oz left, and everyone just thought she should get over it. Maybe it was because they didn’t even care what happened to her. The only reason they probably even wanted her to get over him was so that she could help them with more with research. That was all she was, research and Wicca girl.

Setting the tea down, Willow crawled off the bed made her way to the closet. Opening it up, she dug into the back of it and pulled out a box of Tara’s books. Tara had said that she had got them when she wasn’t feeling too sure of herself, but then after meeting Willow, she had realized that she didn’t need them. If there was something in them that could have helped Tara, then maybe there was a spell in there that could maker her more strong, something that would make the gang want to hang out with her.

After turning through several of the books, Willow surveyed one of spells. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to take in the fuzzy words in front of her. Sitting the book down, she went to her chest and pulled out the ingredients and elements for the spell. For several minutes, she spent time setting up for the spell and then shut the curtains so no one could see in at what she was doing. Sitting down in a circle, surrounded by candles, she closed her eyes and started to chant. Several times, during the chanting, she tried to focus, to clear her mind, but her thoughts would not stop talking to her. "They don’t want you. You aren’t good enough for them. Don’t you want to have the strength, the power, to get back at them?" Willow shook her head. Trying to rid her mind of the thoughts, but they kept on entering her head. She tried not to understand them, but then, tired and not able to stand it anymore, she yelled, "Yes!"

The candles around her went out as a breeze seemed to run through the room, and then everything was still. The spell, still not finished, was interrupted. Willow opened her eyes and looked at the room. Smiling, she set about putting stuff away. There was no need to do the spell now.

After putting everything up, she sat down at the computer. In seconds, she was reading a document on the computer. She smiled as she saw the words jump out at her. ‘...I often think about what I have sensed in Graham... ability to live in the game.’ Turning off the computer, she started to fumble through some of the books Giles had given her. Smiling again, she pulled out a book and thumbed through the pages till she found what she was looking for. Pieces of a puzzle were coming together in her mind. Yes, she would make them pay for what they had done to Willow. Then, she would rule the Hellmouth and the world could be like it was suppose to be, the way it had been before.

The door opened and Tara stuck her head in. Seeing that Willow was awake, she entered and sat on the bed. "I had a break in appointments, so I thought I would check on you."

Willow marked her spot and then laid the book down. "Thanks, you."

Tara looked around the room, her senses going crazy. "Willow, you didn’t try to do magic, did you?"

"Just a little, teensy weensy spell," replied Willow as she placed her thumb and index finger together.

Tara shook her head. "You shouldn’t have done that. You know that you aren’t suppose to do spells when you’re sick. It taints the spell and leaves you open to darker forces."

Willow smiled as she laid down. "I’m fine. The spell didn’t work anyway."

Tara felt her head. "I think your fever is breaking."

Nodding, Willow closed her eyes, "I think Spike’s soup might have actually helped."

Placing some of Willow’s hair behind her ear, Tara commented, "I can’t stay. Will you promise not to do anymore spells until you’re better?"

As Willow nodded, Tara smiled and then left, leaving Willow on the bed. When the door shut behind her, Willow opened her eyes. Glowing a little bit, she blinked them and then smiled. "Chastising my Willow. You will pay dearly, Tara. Yes you will."

Solving Insecurities...?