Title: The Only One
Fandom: BtVS
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Willow.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 501
Setting: Becoming Part 2.
Summary: Willow doesn’t want everyone having to rely on her, but there’s nobody else who can attempt the spell to restore Angel’s soul.
Content Notes: None needed.
Written For: Challenge 387: Amnesty 64, using Challenge 263: Magic.
Disclaimer: I don’t own BtVS, or the characters.



Willow had done magic before, just minor spells, nothing too elaborate. This was different, and it could fix everything… Well, maybe not quite everything, but it could fix a lot, only she wasn’t sure she was a good enough practitioner to handle something of this magnitude.

Ms Calendar could have done it, she wouldn’t have researched it otherwise, but she was dead, all because Angelus had somehow found out what she was planning to do. That left Willow, inexperienced though she was. It was a scary thought, and she didn’t want her friends relying on her untested abilities, especially now when she was definitely not at her best, but if Buffy failed to stop Angelus…

Sitting in her hospital bed, feeling small, and weak, and horribly fragile, Willow checked that everything was ready. She had the chant, translated into English, the Orb of Thesulah, the stinky herbs, already burning. This was it, there was no turning back, she had to at least try.

She began the chant, the smell of the burning herbs making her feel even dizzier than the residual effects of the bump on her head, which still felt several sizes too big. It was hard to concentrate; she faltered, gripping the edge of the tray table to steady herself. Doing magic while suffering from a concussion was no doubt a bad idea, but it probably wouldn’t be any smarter to abandon the spell before it was complete, because who knew what that might do? So she swallowed hard, tried to steady her breathing, struggling to pick up the chant once more.

Energy abruptly surged through her and she straightened up, head snapping back, then down again, focusing on the Orb with an intensity she wouldn’t have believed herself capable of in her weakened state. Words flowed from her lips, and she was dimly aware that she was no longer speaking in English. It was as though she was watching herself from outside her own body, listening to a voice that both was and wasn’t her own. Power beyond anything she’d ever imagined sizzled along her nerves, and she knew that the only way to stop her from completing the spell now would be to kill her. Not that anyone would be able to. She was protected, perhaps not invulnerable to magic, but certainly capable of deflecting a physical attack if she had to.

The air around her seemed to crackle with invisible lines of force, radiating out from her, summoning one particular soul from the aether, gathering it in, holding it within the Orb until exactly the right moment, and then… The orb flared with light, there and gone in an instant.

It was over, the spell complete. The strength and energy faded away, leaving Willow feeling drained to the point of exhaustion, a single question burning in her mind.

She looked around at her friends. “Did it work?”

It was a question on one could answer. All they could do was wait and hope for the best.


The End