So What

Authoress: Wee-Me

DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything or anyone from "Buffy" and I am not profiting from writing about them.

WARNING: This story is not kind to any of the Scoobies and it involves a depiction of suicide. I do not advocate suicide and if it upsets you, please read no further.

Part One

The police found her the morning after. Actually a group of teens sneaking out to party did and they called the cops, but that's not the point. The official report said gang violence and the cops moved on, but it was suicide sure as anything.

It had been months since she came back from Europe with a steadier control on her magic and everything was fine with the Scoobies. So what if they didn't ask Willow to do anything fun with them, she'd never enjoyed Bronzing anyway.

"Wills, we need some research done. You don't mind staying do you? We'll be at the Bronze if you need us and we'll have our phones on."

So what if Dawn was using the whole thing to get special favors through guilt, she'd always liked helping people.

"It's just so hard. I mean, imagine if someone had done those things to you, wouldn't you be traumatized? Can't you just do a few things for me?"

So what if Buffy wouldn't have anything to do with Willow outside of research or slayer emergencies, it was the slayer's right to be distant from and disapproving of evil.

"She's not our Willow anymore. She's closer than she was right before she left, but she's still not the same. She's done awful things and we can't just forget that. She can stay, but that doesn't mean I trust her."

So what if Xander only had time for Anya, couples were like that.

"Willster, I'm sorry I forgot our movie night, but Anya needed some attention. You know how girlfriends are."

So what if Willow had a broken heart and was drowning alone in despair, she was a bad witch after all. So what to Willow period.

She had her affairs in order months before she acted. All of her magical items were divided up between boxes for Angel's group, Giles, and a few bits for Anya. Her parents' things had already been sent on to the apartment they had in another town. Her books were sold, as well as all but a few sentimental pieces of jewelry, and most of her clothing already filled the racks at a thrift shop. The house, signed over to her by her parents, was already sold and she had been finishing up the last niggling details- like having the carpets cleaned and ending her life.

Real estate notice: Motivated seller! Lovely home in a great neighborhood. Perfect for a young family. Owner is looking for an immediate buyer and willing to bargain.

The small appliances and all the furniture had fetched a fair sum and that money, in addition to the price fetched for the house and all money in her closed out bank accounts, paid for her funeral expenses in advance. She'd even chosen her own flowers.

Moving sale! Furniture, appliances, and miscellaneous house wares for sale. Everything must go!

Her will, freshly drawn up, lined out what she had set into place: a nice cremation and her ashes (through special permit) to be pitched over a cliff ocean-side. A plain headstone set into the ground beside Tara's with a single white daisy for her and a spray of flowers for Tara. No ceremony or crying, no obituary, just quiet notices to the few people she knew.

To whom it may concern: Willow Rosenberg has passed away. There will be a small ceremony in Sunnydale in her memory. Instead of flowers please send a donation to your local charity. Thank you and many sympathies for your loss.

Her bills were all paid, accounts closed, laundry done, and everything boxed and labeled. A box of things for Angel, mostly magical supplies. Books, magical things, pictures, and a long letter for Giles. Pictures and mementos to the others. Her car was signed over as a gift to Dawn, or an apology. There was a three-ring binder, color-coded with tabbed dividers, full of lists. Lists of important dates and birthdays, lists of allergies and recipes, sections things everyone liked or disliked, and other information that everyone always classified under "ask Willow, she knows". All her leftover funds were left to Giles along with a message on his answering machine he'd heard hours too late, just as she'd calculated.

BEEP "You've reached Rupert Giles' answering machine. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you if the stupid machine works." BEEP "Hey Giles. It's Willow. Umm, I hope you get this before anyone calls. A pause. I love you. Not like in-love love, but like I should love my parents love. Just know that. You don't have to worry about me anymore, that's got to be a relief. A strained chuckle. Take care of yourself. Another pause. Oh, I left you some things. And some money. Think of it as a bonus for going above and beyond the call of duty, or hazard pay. I can't pay back what I owe you, but maybe it will help. And I'll be out of the way now. Oh, I'm ramble girl again. I do you know. Love you that is. Don't be sad, have a happy life and be good to yourself. Bye."

A note sent to Angel on her way to Buffy's would let him know what was going on in case the Scoobies, minus one, needed help because she supposed she could have forgotten something and arrangements may have needed to be made.

Angel: You should receive this a day or so after I kill myself. I know I don't have any right to ask, but if you don't mind, please check on everyone. I've tried to see to all the details, but you know how stuff comes up and if they have to handle that they may need help with the patrol stuff. Thanks.

She hadn't expected them to grieve, at all. She felt dead inside, they acted like their Willow was dead, what was there to grieve about? She'd cooked favorite meals that afternoon in the Summers' home and frozen some for the next few days. She'd helped Dawn with her homework, practically did it for her when Dawnie turned the guilt screws, and fetched blood for Spike.

She'd been nearly giddy and they'd all thought it was a wonderful sign that she wasn't making them depressed with her moping. When the night's patrols were divvied up she opted to go by herself to deal with some minor flesh-eaters, an easy bludgeon job if you had a club with a small blessing on it at your disposal. When Spike offered to go with her, he sensed something was wrong he realized later, Buffy got upset.

"She'll be fine. If you keep babying her she won't know she's being punished. She has to learn that she can't just kill people or try to end the world or rip people out of heaven without there being consequences."

Willow agreed with her earnestly. She had to pay, had to get what she deserved, after all the trouble she'd caused she would have no chance at Buffy's heaven for slayers. She'd babbled it all out in a single Willowy gush, placations and agreements and assurances she could handle one little trip by herself. The other Scoobies had all smiled to see a return of the old Willow and most of them paid little attention to the actual content of her words.

Anya was wiser than the others in some ways and had caught on that something was wrong. Willow had turned wide eyes on her without the others noticing and she'd shrugged. She decided not to say anything then, but she did decide to ask some hard questions when they were alone. When it was time to leave Willow gave a cheery wave to them all. Buffy, Spike, and Dawn were the first ones out the door- off to a movie or some such after a quick patrol. Spike had felt the need to arm himself heavily, the bad feeling still in him, and to pass weapons to the rest of them as well. He'd handed Willow her club with a shoulder pat he knew was odd, but couldn't stop himself from giving. Then Buffy tapped her foot impatiently and they were gone.

Anya sent Xander out on a snack run for the night ahead; they were planning to do some research until Buffy came home. She hadn't had a real inkling how bad things were until Xander was gone and Willow put the club back in the weapon chest.

"You don't plan to come back, do you?"

Willow shook her head. "Are you going to try to stop me?"

She thought about it, really thought about it, but she had been around a long time and knew when someone had given up on life. "No, I'm not going to stop you, but I don't want you to do this."

"Don't worry, I took care of everything. No need to worry." It was worse that she really believed it.

She set her keys on the kitchen counter beside her cell phone and left only her ID and an emergency contact card in her pocket.

"It's going to mess up your sweater. That's Spike's favorite, he always tells that story about when he kidnapped you and you were wearing it."

"Huh. Well I packed everything else. Maybe I can leave it on a headstone or something."

Anya surprised her with a hug and then she was gone into the night to run to her death. The former demon was left to wait for Xander and the phone call from the police that might crush them all.

Willow walked straight into the cemetery with her head high. The air was cold when she left her fuzzy sweater in Spike's crypt, but she didn't care. She cut her wrists on a wrought iron fence and headed to the creatures' den. The tiny creatures were each no bigger than bunny, but as a group they were capable of taking down an adult, especially one that didn't fight back. It took longer than she'd expected for them to finish and they were going to have to be taken care of by someone, but to take a page from her friends' book, so what? That wasn't her problem anymore, and then with a few final bites nothing was her problem.

End Part One

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I don't know why I've been killing all the characters lately, but hopefully I'll write something happier soon. I meant to post this yesterday, but I wasn't feeling so well. Yes, this is fairly unkind to those left living, but I don't think it's very nice to Willow either so it's equal opportunity meanness on my part, please no angry rants. Please let me know what you think.