by Sassette » Thu Feb 21, 2002 10:35 am
So - there you have it.
Of course, I've done several things in this story that I didn't particularly want to do ... hmmm ... I'll guess we'll have to see if The Trickster's plan is so good, not even the Scoobies can stop him. Because, I gotta' tell you, it's a really good plan.
-Sass
Umm ... that was >supposed< to be reassuring ... but I think I lost that somewhere in there. Oopsie.
by Pixie » Thu Feb 21, 2002 12:49 pm
by Shaniezak » Thu Feb 21, 2002 1:07 pm
No, seriously . . . the unexpected situation that hit Tara when she got to the house, the revelation that she'd been drawing Willow for years before she met her, Anya's kind but still utterly Anya-like behavior, all these new complications and twists . . . make this story as long as you want, just as long as we know there'll be an ending eventually. Keep writing, and I'll keep reading it.
By the way . . . have I mentioned that you rock? I seriously owe you one. Maybe for starters, I'll finish off the short story I told you would be dedicated to you, and then bump JCIM back to the front burner . . .
------------------
"And if there is a way to find you, I will find you . . . but threads that are golden don't break easily . . ." -- Tori Amos
"Love is lightning, love is ice; it only strikes the lucky twice--once so you will know the price, and once for crazy faith . . ." -- Alison Krauss and Union Station
by Sassette » Thu Feb 21, 2002 4:14 pm
And Shanie ... those were the MILD twists and turns ... the BIG plot twists are coming up - fun things that make perfect sense, but come at you from around a blind corner and smack you between the eyes. Unless, of course, everyone has already figured everything out but hasn't said anything. In which case, I've done a piss poor job being subtle, because I >want< this stuff to be a surprise.
And just for the record ... I'm not "Evil", per se ... more ... well, okay. I'm Evil.
-Sass
by Scout » Thu Feb 21, 2002 4:31 pm
Now THAT would be truly evil. At which point I'd have to hunt you down like a dog. So thank goodness you're not evil.
(and it's probably a good thing I don't write fanfic, too!)
by katydid » Thu Feb 21, 2002 5:32 pm
------------------
"She practically has 'genuine molded plastic' stamped on her ass.
by Sassette » Thu Feb 21, 2002 5:37 pm
-Sass
by Shaniezak » Thu Feb 21, 2002 6:06 pm
quote:
Originally posted by Sassette:
And just for the record ... I'm not "Evil", per se ... more ... well, okay. I'm Evil.
-Sass
Well, I knew that, Sass . . .
Why the hell else do ya think I like you so much?
[This message has been edited by Shaniezak (edited February 21, 2002).]
quote:by WiccansIllusion » Thu Feb 21, 2002 6:52 pm
by Sassette » Thu Feb 21, 2002 7:34 pm
-Sass
by Scout » Thu Feb 21, 2002 9:09 pm
All right Sass, bring it on. We’re ready.
I think.
by ForeverPiper » Fri Feb 22, 2002 4:05 am
quote:
Originally posted by Sassette:
What I have planned is MUCH more evil than that ... so no need to yell at Scout *G*
*gulp*
quote:by Sassette » Fri Feb 22, 2002 9:02 am
-Sass
And Scout? I'm wondering why I signed on to WRITE this fic! I prefer hugs and kitties.
by Scout » Fri Feb 22, 2002 9:44 am
But I'm glad to hear that you actually prefer hugs and kitties because it bodes well for the end of this story, no matter how much evilness you have in store for us along the way.
by Puff » Fri Feb 22, 2002 10:49 am
More please
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'The cold and ruthless sea tossed the lovers' into the starry black night. together they fall, together they sleep. forever.. forever.. *whisper*forever..the cold and ruthless sea...' By Sweets
by WiccansIllusion » Fri Feb 22, 2002 12:52 pm
W.I
IP: Logged
Title: Answering Darkness Part 31 - Research
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to pink_overalls@yahoo.com
Summary: Willow gets the news about several new developments.
Spoiler Warning: Up to and including "Tabula Rasa" in Season 6.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I'm just borrowing them because Season 6 angst is running high, and I want my happy ending now, dammit! So I'm writing it … but it'll be awhile until I get to that part, so bear with me (or "bare" with me if you're naughty).
Rating: PG-13
Notes: For the purpose of this story, all events of Tabula Rasa took place exactly as shown in the series; however, no subsequent episodes will affect this piece. We're splitting from canon here, because this seems the fastest way to get a reconciliation and because I feel this is one of the possible outcomes when taking the "addiction" metaphor into account. So, I should shut the heck up now, and just get to the story, right? Right.
Answering Darkness Part 31
Research
By Sassette
Willow walked gingerly down the stairs, shivering slightly, an old pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt hanging loosely on her small frame. She had stayed in the shower, washing away the darkness until long after the water had turned cold.
“I don’t know Latin,” Dawn’s tremulous voice drifted up to her.
“We’ll find what we need,” she heard Buffy’s voice answer firmly.
She entered the living room, surprised to see the transformation. Gone were Buffy’s papers, and instead, huge stacks of books from the magic shop covered the table. Her laptop was open in front of Dawn.
“Dawnie?” Willow said in a soft voice. “My laptop?”
“Oh, I –“ Dawn said, a guilty look crossing her features. “We … we needed to find some things, on the internet. I, uh… I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“Oh, of course,” Willow said, nodding. “I don’t mind. I mean, I prefer to be asked first, but … y’know, I was all in the shower and stuff. I guess you can’t be expected to walk on in, huh?” she finished weakly, moving to sit on the couch.
Buffy grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch, wordlessly wrapping it around her shivering friend.
“How are you feeling?” she asked softly.
“Better,” Willow said with a small smile. “All squeaky-clean.”
“I’ll, uhh … I’ll just … get more coffee,” Dawn said, rushing from the room. Only then did Willow notice the two steaming cups sitting on the table.
“You’re letting Dawn drink coffee?” Willow asked incredulously.
“Well, we’ve got lots of research to do,” Buffy defended herself. “And we need all the help we can get. Xander’s on the way over,” she added needlessly.
“Well, I didn’t think he’d be anywhere else,” Willow said. “Hell God and all – that’s a job for the Scooby Gang.”
“Right,” Buffy said, unable to bring herself to laugh at Willow’s joke, the sick knowledge of what could happen to Willow sitting heavily in her stomach. While Willow had been in the shower, she had called Tara, and she had no idea how she was faring. Anya had said they were two days out, but Buffy had no idea how Willow’s condition would progress, and even if she’d be coherent in two days time.
“Buffy, I’m … I’m sorry,” Willow said miserably, sniffing. “I never meant to-“
“I know, Will,” Buffy said, reaching out and squeezing her hand.
“Buffy? Is something wrong?” Willow asked slowly, a little frown on her face. “I mean, other than the stuff I already know about? Because you look like …” Willow said, trailing off, only to start up again in a panicked voice. “Buffy, what aren’t you telling me? Did you get a phone call? Is Tara all right? Nothing happened at her father’s house, did it?”
“No, Tara’s fine,” Buffy assured her. “Actually, I’m … really worried about you,” Buffy said.
“Yeah, I’m a little worried about me, too,” Willow admitted. “This is … really hard.”
“It’s … everything’s worse than we thought,” Buffy said carefully. “Willow,” she went on, taking Willow’s hand, her voice unusually serious, causing Willow’s worry to jump several notches. “The Dark Magick that’s inside you? It’s … it’s basically poisoning you. If it builds up too much and takes over your blood, you could –“ she said, her voice cracking and then she stopped, unable to get the word past the tightness in her throat.
“I could die, couldn’t I?” Willow asked softly, her eyes wide.
“God, Willow, I’m so … sorry,” Buffy said, the words sounding empty and hollow in her ears.
“Exactly how does that work?” Willow asked calmly.
“The Trickster keeps sending you the magick,” Buffy answered starkly, her voice sounding raw and troubled. “It’s building up inside you, which is why it’s trying so hard to get out. It’s why you feel so bad right now. It – the magick is going to eventually take over your blood.”
“I –“ Willow said, only to stop as she tried to digest the information. Her immediate thoughts all circled around Tara. How would she take it? Would she be okay once Willow was gone? Did she even know? Ruthlessly, she pushed the thoughts aside as tears welled up in her eyes. “I guess we got lots of work to do, then, huh?” Willow asked, all color draining from her face as she moved into the chair Dawn had vacated and pulled the laptop towards her. “We have to figure out exactly what my connection to the Hell God is, what exactly he needs me for, and those should give us some clues on how to stop him from pumping Dark Magick into me.”
Willow hunched over the keyboard, her fingers flying, every now and again moving the mouse around and clicking, seemingly at random. Buffy watched for a moment, seeing the dawning horror and panic starting to creep across Willow’s face.
“Willow, you need to rest,” Buffy said, leveling a stare at the redhead.
“Rest? How the hell am I supposed to rest right now, Buffy?” Willow demanded, looking up at her with a fierce look on her face. “I need to not think about it right now, and in order to not think about it, I need to be busy. Because if I think about it, I’m going to …” she went on, her face crumbling. Tara’s face swam before her eyes, and she realized that all she wanted to do was crawl into her arms where she knew she’d be safe. She choked back a sob, shaking off the thoughts, clenching her jaw and going determinedly back to the research and ignoring the worried looks Buffy kept sending her way.
“I have coffee,” Dawn said, entering the room slowly, a tray in her hands.
“Did you make me some?” Willow asked, her voice hoarse.
“Of course I did,” Dawn said. “And I … I kinda’, umm,” she said slowly, suddenly unsure as to whether or not her plan had been a good idea. “Yours might taste kind of funny,” she confessed, looking over at Willow. “I put … I put some of that baking soda in with the sugar, so … I figured if you could kinda’ … take out some of the dark stuff in your tummy, it might slow it down. From the inside.”
“That’s … that’s a good idea, Dawn,” Willow said. “That could help,” Willow said with a small smile as a relieved look crossed Dawn’s face.
“I … I had to do something,” Dawn said weakly. “We can’t lose you.” Tears welled up in Dawn's eyes, and Willow immediately felt the need to reassure the scared teenager.
“You won’t lose me, Dawn,” Willow said fiercely, resolve face firmly in place. “I have no intention of leaving any of you.”
A relieved look crossed Dawn’s face. “Really?” she asked, handing over the cup of coffee and wanting so badly to believe Willow's words.
“Really,” Willow assured, taking the cup, then squeezing Dawn’s hand.
“And the donut man approacheth,” Xander said, walking into the house with a big box of donuts in his hand. He set the donuts on the table, immediately pulling Willow out of her chair and into a hug. “How are you holding up, Wills?” he asked softly.
Willow leaned into him, returning the hug for a moment before pulling back. “Y’know … another day on the Hellmouth,” she said lightly. “If one of use weren’t in mortal peril, it wouldn’t quite be the same.”
“That’s not funny, Will,” Xander said with a frown.
“I know it’s not,” Willow snapped, her eyes flashing. “I’m … I’m sorry,” she said, sitting back down heavily. “I just –“
“It’s okay. I understand,” Xander said, hunkering down next to her and patting her arm awkwardly. “So,” he said, looking around the room. “Another Scooby all-nighter?”
“I’ll get you some coffee,” Dawn said, standing up and heading back into the kitchen.
Effectively dismissing her friends, unable to deal with the fear in their eyes, Willow turned back to her computer. Dawn had several files open that she had never seen before, but they were certainly informative.
“Dawn?” she called out.
“Yeah?” Dawn called back from the kitchen.
“Where did these files come from?” she asked curiously.
“Giles sent them from the council,” Dawn answered back.
“Giles used the ‘infernal machine’ and emailed me some files?” Willow muttered incredulously. “This really >is< the Apocalypse.”
“Actually, he didn’t send them,” Buffy said, looking up from her book. “Apparently, he’s on a team of Council ‘rejects’ … they get all the crap jobs. They consider Giles to be ‘unconventional’ and he’s their hero,” she went on wryly.
“Giles is unconventional?” Xander asked with a smirk. “Who knew our stodgy watcher-man was such a rebel?”
“Anyway, one of the guys on the team is some kind of computer-guy, which is why the Council really doesn’t like him. That whole team is working on this, getting information and trying to decipher those prophecies. This guy will email updates whenever they have them,” Buffy said, finishing explaining.
“Cool,” Willow said absently, scrolling through the documents, translating the Latin in her head as she went.
She clicked open her email, seeing a message that had been read already, sent from England. She opened the message, hoping the actual email message had more information about what was in the documents.
Willow,
I’m having one of my colleagues send you information on this infernal machine. It seems more efficient than letting you write things out longhand when I call; however, I will still call every time I send information to get an update on the happenings in Sunnydale, and to confirm that you receive these files. Included is the full text of the prophecy we’re working on now, several documents relating to The Trickster, as well as a compilation of first-hand accounts of mystical events that may have included The Trickster.
-Giles
“Ah … so that’s what I’m looking at,” Willow mumbled, clicking back to the documents. “Now,” she said louder. “We think this witch who defeated The Trickster was related to me, right?”
“Right,” Buffy confirmed with a nod. “That’s our current working theory.”
Willow nodded, then turned back to her computer, opening up the files she had on her own genealogy. It had been a project she was working on, but had shelved several times over the last few years, what with Scooby things and school, then the responsibilities of taking care of Dawn and the Scooby Gang after Buffy’s death. Would her passing leave a hole like that?
Determinedly, she pushed the thoughts away, going back to her research. It should be easy enough, really, with the groundwork she already had, to trace her line back through the women in her family, and see what she found.
Willow lost herself in her task, finding that the work allowed her to focus on something other than the startling revelations of the day and Tara’s aching absence. The Scoobies worked around her in silence, for once the loud complaints and the jokes gone.
“I think I found something,” Xander said, surprise evident in his voice.
“What do you have?” Buffy asked, looking up sharply from her book, which was a big bust. Everyone stopped, and Xander gulped as all eyes focused on him.
“Oddly enough, I think it’s about Angel,” he said with a frown. “It … it kinda’ fits, y’know?”
“What is it?” Dawn pressed.
“Well, it talks about the three Hell Gods. The Trickster, The Beast, and The Scales.”
“The Scales?” Buffy asked with a frown. “That’s a pretty lame name for a Hell God. I think I’d be all pissed off if I were that one.”
“It’s about what function they serve. The Beast, Glory, was all about rage and fear ... primal-type stuff," he said slowly. "The Trickster is all reason and logic and cunning. Nasty guy, though. The Scales ... is kinda' ... not a guy OR a girl ... but something else."
"A hermaphroditic Hell God?" Willow asked, a confused look on her face.
"Right," Xander said with a nod. "Anyway, The Scales is just that ... the balance between The Beast and The Trickster. Anyway, The Trickster ... well, tricked The Scales into helping him banish Glory, which is why she was here."
"So how does Angel tie into this?" Buffy asked quietly.
"Well, they kinda' list a few of each Hell God's accomplishments, showing how they can influence things here, even when they're in Hell. The Trickster, apparently, supplied the big Dark Magick juice needed to curse Angel with his soul in the first place. At least, that's what I'm guessing. The details are vague here, but the timeline is right," Xander said, handing the book over to Willow.
Willow read in silence, looking over the passage Xander indicated, nodding as she read.
"But why would a bad guy make a good vampire?" Dawn asked.
"Because it's a curse," Willow said hollowly, looking up with haunted eyes. "That spell doomed Angel to an eternity of torment - a past that haunted him that he could never atone for. And I did the same thing to him," she said starkly.
“Willow – you did what you had to do,” Buffy said gently. “You didn’t do it to send him into torment … you did it to keep him from hurting people. To keep me from hurting by having to kill him.”
“Yeah, and that worked out so well,” Willow said bitterly. “You had to kill him anyway, only you had to look him in the eye, knowing he had his soul back.”
“That’s …” Buffy said, her heart clenching as she remembered that moment with stark clarity. “That’s not the point, Willow. You did it for all the right reasons.”
“I did it because I could,” Willow shot back. “I wanted to prove something to myself – that I was powerful enough to do it. But I wasn’t,” she said.
“The spell worked,” Xander puzzled out. “Of course you were powerful enough.”
“No,” Willow said with a shake of her head. “I … I felt something when I cast, like … some power surging through me. It was … euphoric. And then it was gone, and I felt so empty. That was him – The Trickster. That’s when I opened the door and let him in, because I was too sure I knew what I was doing, and I didn’t stop and think of the consequences.”
“Oh my God,” Xander breathed. “That long ago?” he asked, his voice squeaking.
Willow just nodded, a look of pure misery on her face. “It had to have been. He needed time to make his connection to me this strong, right? And he supplied the power for the original curse. It only makes sense that he would be paying attention when someone tried the curse again.”
“So if he started his big Hell God plan way back then, what else has he been doing?” Buffy wondered aloud, the words falling heavily into the room.
“I – I don’t know,” Willow said softly. “It could be anything, and we wouldn’t know. We’d have no way of knowing what bad things happened that were just us, or were helped along by him.”
“Okay, The Trickster no longer seems all court-jester-y,” Xander said with a frown. “His creepiness factor is steadily climbing.”
“I’ll … I’ll be right back,” Willow said, standing up and leaving the room. She grabbed the phone and the rolodex, making her way into the kitchen and dialing. She paused, listening to the phone ring before it was picked up.
“Anya?” she said quietly. “It’s Willow, but don’t tell Tara I’m on the phone.”
In the other room, Xander said softly enough to not be overheard, “Buffy, this is really freaking me out. Willow’s taking this whole thing a little too calmly.”
“Just … I just need to know how she is,” Willow whispered brokenly into the phone. “Tell me she’s okay.”
“I know,” Buffy whispered back to Xander. “I think … it’s probably going to hit her all at once. And Willow snapping into a million pieces is not something I care to see.”
“Thank you, Anya,” Willow said, her voice grateful as tears welled up in her eyes. “I know you and I haven’t really gotten along, but take care of her for me, okay? In case something happens before you get here. Make sure she’s all right. She’s always liked you, and she’ll need a friend.”
“I just wish Tara were here,” Xander whispered back, turning to his book when Willow walked back into the room, wiping tears from her eyes as surreptitiously as possible and going back to her seat.
“I need more information,” Willow said quickly, turning back to her research with a manic intensity that garnered worried looks from all the Scoobies present. “I have to know … what happened before and … I have to know.”
She continued muttering, occasionally taking notes, as she continued tracing her genealogy. The Scoobies exchanged worried glances before turning back to their own books, determined to find a way to save Willow.
Willow frowned at her computer, having traced her ancestry back several generations to Scotland. As far as she knew, it was the only scrap of blood in her that came from that area, but it followed the female line back, and it was the right culture to have standing stones, so she felt she was on the right track. As encouraging as this was, it was eminently frustrating that she couldn’t find anything further back than the woman who had come to America, and there was no evidence to suggest she had practiced magick of any kind.
With a sigh, she shot off an email to Giles’ computer guy, filling him in on what she knew so far. It may have been a bust from her point of view, but since the Council was in England anyway, she figured they should have better records than she could get over the internet.
She really had to find the time to finish writing her Latin translation program, she mused idly as she switched over to the crazed ramblings of a madmen – a prophet whose words seemed to be about The Trickster and his rise to power. A sinking feeling in her gut reminded her that she just might be out of time – that she might never finish the program. Or college. Never get back together with Tara. Never travel. There were so many books she hadn’t read, and so many places she hadn’t seen. So many things she had never bothered to learn.
She continued reading through her tears, unable to make heads or tails of the document in front of her. It clearly made no sense, and while she might be able to figure it all out if she had a few months to study it, she was certainly no expert when it came to that sort of thing.
With another frown, she changed documents again, reading over their information on The Trickster. Her frown deepened the further she read. Where Glory was short-sighted and self-centered, The Trickster was calculating and philanthropic in a twisted Hell God kind of way. He saw humanity as a bunch of childish powerless Glory’s … and as such, his goals seemed to center around leading humanity to a maturity of pure cold reason, untempered by compassion or altruism. Willow shivered as she read, finding that while the world wouldn’t end if The Trickster made his way out of Hell, all of humanity would be subjugated to his will and pressed into worship.
Engrossed in her work, she blocked out the sound of conversation around her, until a round of mocking laughter echoed around the room. She looked up, listening to Dawn and Buffy and Xander talking about how worthless she was – how glad they were that she was going to die. She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes tight, tears streaming down her face as each word seemed to stab her through the heart.
In the silent room, each of the Scoobies heard Willow make a noise like a wounded animal, the sound startling them out of their reading. Each looked up to see Willow crying quietly, silent sobs shaking her shoulders.
“Willow?” Buffy asked uncertainly, starting to rise as Dawn rushed to her side.
“Willow,” Dawn said, reaching out, only to see Willow flinch away as if she sensed the movement without the benefit of sight.
Xander looked on helplessly as Willow seemed to curl in on herself, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, her head bending down. She rocked forward and back slowly, a strange keening sound punctuated by sobs filling the room.
“What do we do?” Dawn asked, afraid to reach out again.
“I don’t know,” Xander said, moving closer to Willow, but keeping his distance enough that he didn’t startle her.
Willow heard each word, each taunt and jab shaking her to the core. She deserved this. She had brought all of this on herself with her own insecurities. But they were deserved insecurities – her friends weren’t really her friends. They only cared as long as she was useful. Now, she was useless and dying and they were stuck with her, just waiting for her to stop … being.
“No,” Willow moaned, hugging her knees tighter. “No …” she said again on a choked whisper. The loved her. She knew it. This was a trick. It was all a trick.
No, their friendship and love had been the trick. Now she was seeing the truth. The truth was, none of them had ever loved her. Not Xander, not Oz … and not Tara.
“No,” Willow said again, her heart breaking in two. Tara loved her. She knew it. She was rushing home to be with her – Anya had said so.
And then it was clear. Tara did love her. When she didn’t know what was real, when she had nothing left to hold onto, she knew this to the very core of her being. Tara loved her. They might not be together right now, but that parting had hurt Tara every bit as much as it had hurt her. Tara loved her.
The shaking subsided, as did the voices, and after a long moment, Willow was able to raise her head and wipe at her eyes.
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, looking at the concerned – and loving – faces of her friends. Her family. “It – kinda’ got intense there for a minute.”
“Here,” Dawn said, handing over the long-forgotten and cold coffee.
“Thanks,” Willow said, gingerly taking the cup, then downing the liquid quickly.
She gasped, pain ripping through her stomach. Xander rushed to her side as she doubled over, crossing her arms over her belly and grimacing. Her contents of her stomach roiled, and then it subsided. With a few shaky breaths, she extricated herself from Xander’s arms and sat up, noticing immediately that she felt … lighter … freer … than she had in days.
“That was … whoah,” she said slowly.
“I-I’m sorry,” Dawn said, a stricken look on her face. “I didn’t know it … I didn’t know,” she said.
“No, it’s okay,” Willow said quickly. “I feel … I mean, it hurt for a bit, but … I feel so much better,” she reassured the girl. “It’s … it’s really strange.”
“But I should have realized,” Dawn went on. “I mean, it made that weird hissing sound in the bucket.”
“I didn’t think of that, either,” Willow said.
“But you’re okay?” Buffy asked from Willow’s side, surprising Willow. She hadn’t noticed Buffy move.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Willow said. “I … I think we better get back to the research.”
They all nodded, moving back to their study spots and picking up their books.
“Knock knock,” Spike said, opening the door of the Summers home and sauntering in. His coat was closed up, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Buffy said wryly.
“Funny you should mention that,” Spike said with a grin. “Because I was just playing poker with me mates.”
“Oh, God … with the betting of the kittens?” Buffy said with a groan.
“Kittens?” Willow asked, horrified. “You bet kittens?” A flash of sadness hit her as she remembered her beloved Miss Kitty Fantastico, who had disappeared that summer. A suspicious look crossed her face as she glared at Spike, until she remembered that Miss Kitty wouldn’t have qualified as a ‘kitten’ at the time. Still … “You … you have to bet kittens, though, right?” she asked weakly. “No cats?”
“That’s right,” Spike confirmed, nodding. “However, it seems some temporal demon was cheating … out stealing cats, making them kittens again,” he said, pursing his lips. “Doesn’t change anything, or hurt the kitties, but still … it’s just not done, y’know?”
“How’d you find that out?” Buffy asked, wondering what Spike’s point was.
“Well, I recognized this one,” Spike said, moving one arm and gingerly unfastening to front of his coat, revealing a small bundle of fur. “Took me awhile to win her back, but …” he said with a shrug, gently handing the kitten to Willow, who mewed happily as if recognizing one of her mommy’s and settling in her lap.
“Miss Kitty?” Willow gasped, tears stinging her eyes. “I …” She hugged the kitten to her, rubbing her cheek against the soft fur and listening to her purr. “Oh, Miss Kitty,” she said, holding her away to check her over for any hurts. Finding none, she gave a relieved sigh, then let the kitten settle in her lap, laughing through her tears at her little kitty yawn as she settled in for a nap. “Thank you, Spike,” she said, looking up at the vampire, then promptly bursting into tears.
“Hey, now,” Spike said, a troubled look on his face. “No crying, all right? I hate seeing women cry,” he muttered.
“It’s … complicated,” Buffy said slowly, watching Willow cuddle the kitten and give vent to her fear and anger at her situation. “She … really needs this,” she whispered, pulling Spike into the kitchen and motioning everyone to follow her.
“What the bloody hell is going on?” Spike asked angrily. “I show up with her lost kitten … and let me tell you, both Red and Blondie >sobbed< when that little bugger left, and now she’s bawling?”
“She’s dying, Spike,” Buffy said bluntly.
“What?” he asked incredulously.
“She’s … the Dark Magick is killing her. She can’t cast spells, so she can’t get rid of it. It’s building up,” she explained quickly.
“Oh, God … does Tara know?” he asked, frowning.
Buffy nodded, her eyes filling up with tears. “But Willow’s been kind of … she … it’s like it hadn’t hit her yet. I think seeing Miss Kitty made it all sink in.”
“So we’re just standing her in the kitchen while Red sobs her heart out?” Spike asked slowly. “I mean, I’m evil … what’s your excuse for being heartless?”
“Hey!” Xander said, offended.
“Especially you, you wanker,” Spike said acidly. “Known her since she was five? Gonna’ watch her die.”
“I think she just needs some time alone,” Buffy said, holding Xander back as he tried to get at Spike. “We’re not being heartless,” she snapped. “I just … I don’t think … I don’t think Willow would really let herself cry like she needs to in front of us. She’s always been the strong one.”
“Right – the Scooby Rock,” Spike said, his lips pursed. “And her rock is off haring after her mother’s things.”
“Tara’s on her way back, though,” Buffy confirmed.
“So how do we save Red?” Spike asked, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin, expecting Buffy and Xander to protest his involvement.
“Why would you want to help?” Buffy asked, unable to stop the question. “Honestly – you hate us. Why would you want to help?”
Spike took Buffy’s arm gently, pulling her aside. “I have my reasons,” he said in a hushed tone. “I may be an evil bastard, but I pay my debts. Willow gave the group a direction when you were gone … without her and Dawn, I wouldn’t have had a reason to get out of my crypt in the evening. She kept everyone going, and though it pains me to admit it, that includes me. So I owe her.”
“That just may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said,” Buffy said softly.
“Don’t get used to it,” Spike said petulantly. “I’m still evil.”
“You’re the Diet Coke of Evil,” Buffy said with a smirk.
“You take that back! Right now,” Spike insisted.
“Or what?” Buffy shot back. “You’ll glare me to death?”
“Fine,” Spike said tersely. “So how do we help Red?”
“We hit the books,” Buffy said. “Think you can handle sitting still long enough?”
“Whatever it takes.”
Buffy just nodded to Spike, then the others, motioning towards the door with her head. They walked quietly back into the living room, seeing Willow curled up in the chair, Miss Kitty cradled against her chest. Her face was red and puffy from crying as she held the phone and awkwardly dialed with the same hand.
Willow lifted the phone to her ear, sniffling softly. A voice answered, and Willow froze, her eyes going wide. The Scoobies looked on, their concern rising as Willow continued to hold the phone to her ear, her jaw slightly open.
“Tara?” Willow whispered raggedly.
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Caitlin,there are only 3 things that matter...
People you Love,
your Memories,
and Sadness.
fiat justitia,ruat caelum.
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I couldn't wait for another chapter, so last night I read it all over again... then you give us this emotional chapter today... life is good. ;-)
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This update had so much good stuff: Miss Kitty returning home, Willow trying to deal with the news of her death, Willow beating back the Trickster with her thoughts of Tara, Spike showing concern for Red.
And that cliffhanger was dirty. I hope you plan on another update soon because I’m on the edge of my seat. Fantastic stuff!
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Loving this more and more, and that's saying something,cause I ealy really loved it from the beginning...
Oh, and to add something to Scout's little scenario...you'd be evil if you let them in the desert with no phone,no car, and Anya broke her leg and it got infected and Tara had to cut her leg to save her but all she has is that little pocket-knife... all that with Anya learning the Box had been looted.. and PMS-ing.
Now, that'd be more than semi-evil,that's be downright weevil.
FrenchRose
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Can't wait to see where this is going.
Diet Coke of evil!
Warlock
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Web Warlock
web.warlock@attbi.com webwarlock@planetadnd.com
Author, the Netbooks of Witches and Warlocks
The Other Side: http://www.xtreme-gaming.com/theotherside/
Shadow Earth Games: http://www.rpghost.com/WebWarlock/
The FanCC: http://www.enworld.org/fancc/
--
"What the hell is your problem?" - Ozzy Osbourne to me, Feb. 1996
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More please
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'The cold and ruthless sea tossed the lovers' into the starry black night. together they fall, together they sleep. forever.. forever.. *whisper*forever..the cold and ruthless sea...' By Sweets
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But first ... my comments on the comments.
**'lucy' - Spike lives by his own rules. He's a complicated kind of guy. Err ... blood-sucking fiend. Err ... guy.
**Sheila - you re-read the whole thing!?!? Holy Schnikeys! I'm WAY flattered that anyone would want to sit through this pain-fest twice.
**Scout - Hugs and Kitties ... *G* Told you I liked 'em. Though I'm surprised no one has mentioned the whole 'The Trickster has been Willow's source since she restored Angel's soul' thing ... did I already reveal that (because I'm too damn tired to go back and read my own fic), or did I manage to gloss over it with the other stuff in that update? As for the cliffhangers - I'm a feedback whore, and I get more responses this way
**W.I. - Here's your smack. Now go play in the street *G*
**FrenchRose - You're right. That >would< be more evil. So, clearly, it's EXACTLY what I should do. More response to that IN the actual text of the update *G* And the 'Diet Coke of Evil' ... has a more perfect phrase ever been uttered? I flippin' love that line.
**Web Warlock - It was >nice< of me to ratchet up the angst? Then I should be canonized for what I'll be doing later.
**Puff - Another 'wow'? Gosh ... And yes, here's more. Just for you
**Pixie - *runs over and gives mouth to mouth resuscitation* You gotta' wake up for the next update!
And now ... the update ... and we'll see if the damn thing will fit in one post with these comments: as it turns out - nope! Sorry for the double-post.
Title: Answering Darkness Part 32 - On the Road Again
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to pink_overalls@yahoo.com
Summary: Anya's cell phone dies, and Spike's car breaks down, stranding the girls on the side of the highway. No, not really - just wondering if anyone reads these summaries. Let's just summarize this one as 'more angst', okay?
Spoiler Warning: Up to and including "Tabula Rasa" in Season 6.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I'm just borrowing them because Season 6 angst is running high, and I want my happy ending now, dammit! So I'm writing it … but it'll be awhile until I get to that part, so bear with me (or "bare" with me if you're naughty).
Rating: PG-13
Notes: For the purpose of this story, all events of Tabula Rasa took place exactly as shown in the series; however, no subsequent episodes will affect this piece. We're splitting from canon here - this was MEANT to be a quick and easy reconciliation fic … but it just didn't turn out that way. Stupid Hell God … Stupid Plot … getting in the way of my snugglies, damnit. Freakin' Angst. Grrrr.
Answering Darkness Part 32
On the Road Again
By Sassette
Tara didn't know what to think, or what to feel, so she just drove. A numbness, startling in its totality, stole over her mind and heart, until she was nothing more than the person operating the machine that would take her closer to her goal. She tried not to think about where she was going and why, because probing that topic caused instant pain so sharp and deep it physically took her breath away.
So she drove on, having no idea how long they had been on the road already that day. She thought hard about the highway, keeping her inner voice quiet … thinking about the road and the lines, and those little reflect-y bumpy things. The hum of the engine, and the slightly static-y feel of the radio - there was nothing else - could be nothing else, without intense, searing pain.
The phone ringing distracted her momentarily, Anya answering it. Anya paused a moment, her gaze shifting over to Tara, then responded to whoever was on the line. "Hi, Xander. Tara's doing okay. We're coming back to Sunnydale as fast as we can."
But that wasn't quite true, Tara thought idly, glancing at the speedometer. Eighty. She let her foot fall a little heavier on the gas pedal. Ninety. She pressed harder. A hundred. She spared a moment to pray that there would be no cops on the road she took back to Sunnydale.
"Of course. Tara's my friend," Anya said, her face shifting subtly in a brief look of pain before she carefully composed her features, trying not to betray the true nature of her conversation. "I consider Willow and Tara both to be my friends. And you take care of Willow, you hear me? You make sure she's fine when we get there. Tara needs her."
Anya hung the phone up silently, nodding with satisfaction as she saw that Tara was moving at a much faster clip. The phone call from Willow had shaken her, making her realize exactly how much the Scoobies stood to lose, should anything happen to the redhead.
"That was Xander," Anya said, wondering if lying to her friend was really as bad as everyone told her it was. Surely, in this situation, when Willow had specifically asked that she not let on that it was her, it was okay?
"I figured," Tara said, her eyes trained straight ahead as they practically flew down the road. Anya looked out the window dejectedly, casting about for something - anything - to say to Tara.
"Say something," Anya finally demanded. "Anything at all. But please, stop just sitting there looking like
she's already gone, because it's unnerving."
"I … I can't," Tara said, her voice raw. "I can't talk right now, Anya."
"Then listen. Did I ever tell you about the time Xander got syphilis?" Anya asked brightly.
"What?" Tara asked, shocked out of her stupor, pathetically grateful for the distraction. "Xander
has syphilis?"
"Oh, no … he only had it temporarily. For about 24 hours, tops?" Anya explained.
"How do you get temporary 24-hour syphilis?" Tara wondered aloud. "That's … that's not possible, is
it?"
"Of course it isn't. But it was a Hellmouth thing," Anya said breezily.
"Ahh … of course," Tara said, nodding in understanding. "But … how does someone get temporary
24-hour syphilis from the Hellmouth?"
"Well, be quiet, and I'll tell you," Anya said with a laugh. "There we were, Buffy and Willow and I … at
the dedication for the knew cultural center at the college."
"Oh, I remember that - didn't they uncover the old Sunnydale Mission during the groundbreaking?" Tara
interrupted.
"That's right. Only, it was more like, Xander uncovered the old Sunnydale Mission during the groundbreaking. He was there with his construction crew, digging. In a tank top. Mmm…" Anya trailed
off, a wicked gleam in her eye. "All … sweaty, and …"
"I get the picture," Tara interrupted, heading off Anya's lust-filled haze in an attempt to get her back
on-topic.
"Oh, right. Well, there he was digging, and then the ground gave way, and he fell into the mission," Anya
said.
"He was the one who fell in? I remember reading about that in the school newspaper," Tara recalled.
"MmmHmm," Anya confirmed. "So, as it turns out, he accidentally unleashed the vengeful power of the
Shumash Tribe. Their 'Justice Spirit' arose, duplicating the horrors they had suffered at the hands of the people colonizing the area."
"But revenge isn't … nice," Tara said with a frown.
"Well, no," Anya hedged, inexplicably feeling a little hurt at Tara's assessment of what had, in effect, been
her profession for a thousand years. "But it's fair. It's always fair," she said. "Except that they hurt Xander," she added with a frown. "I didn't like that part at all. But when they killed the lady in charge
of the cultural center and cut off her ear, and when they hung the priest … that was almost … poetic."
"The spirit did what?" Tara asked.
"Oh, well, some of the tribesman were hung, so the spirit duplicated that. And there was a bounty out on
them … an ear was brought back to prove a kill, so they killed the teacher in charge of the cultural center and cut off her ear," Anya said. "Of course, Willow wanted to find a way of banishing the spirit, or appeasing it, without anymore killing. She figured that was only fair, because they honestly had suffered
so much. Giles was totally against that. It was a spirit that was hurting people, and he wanted it to stop immediately, no matter what they had to do."
"So who won that fight?" Tara asked curiously. She could, in all honesty, see both sides of that argument
as having valid points, though she tended to think Willow's take was … nicer.
"Neither, actually. The spirit realized that Buffy was the greatest warrior in Sunnydale, so it got a bunch of its spirit friends and laid siege to Giles' place. At that point, we didn't really have a chance of figuring out how to appease them. It was either kill them or die," Anya said.
"So how does the syphilis tie into this?" Tara asked after a moment.
"Oh, I left that part out!" Anya said quickly. "Part of what happened to the Shumash involved being stuck
in a mission, and left there for all sorts of diseases to spread. Xander got all of them. He was really, really sick. Syphilis was just one of the diseases."
"Wow … that's … really awful," Tara said. "But it turned out okay, right?"
"Right," Anya said with a happy little nod. "Once they killed all the Shumash spirits, everything cleared right up, so Xander's p-"
"I get it," Tara said wryly. "No need to spell it out."
"But, that's sharing, isn't it? Aren't friends supposed to share?" Anya asked, honestly curious.
"Yes, it's sharing, but some details are private, especially when two people are intimate. That sort of thing is just for you and Xander, so you don't need to tell the rest of us. In fact, when those details are a secret just between the two of you, it makes them more special," Tara answered.
"Hmm … I suspected that was the reason," Anya said after a moment. "But I still don't see it. I certainly don't feel sex with Xander is any less special just because I may happen to mention -"
"Playing 'shiver me timbers'?" Tara asked with a grin.
"Exactly!" Anya said excitedly. "So you understand?"
"Oh, yes, I understand," Tara said. "You don't feel bad about sharing these things, and we're your friends, so you share. It makes perfect sense. It's just that because people generally think of these things as being private, we sometimes feel like it's wrong for us to know, y'know?" she said, trying to convey her thoughts on the subject.
"Does it really bother you?" Anya asked, tilting her head to the side and regarding Tara carefully.
"Mostly, I just think it's funny," Tara said with a little smile, her eyes crinkling up at the corners. "I just … don't want to hear the syphilis details, or the post-syphilis all-cleared-up-details," she admitted.
"Deal. But I can still make inappropriate comments at inappropriate times without making you angry, right?" Anya pressed, needing to be reassured that this woman, who was really the best friend she had, wasn't actually offended by her behavior.
"No - that will never make me mad," Tara said.
"So now it's your turn to share details," Anya said eagerly. "Did Willow ever have any funny diseases?" she asked, then went on before Tara could comment. "Of course, the only other person she was ever with
was Oz, and I don't think he ever had anything. Well, except for the lycanthropy, and that can only be
passed through biting. But on the other hand, it's possible he could have bitten her during sex, but she'd be a werewolf now. And if she were a werewolf, she wouldn't have broken up with Oz, because that's why they broke up in the first place. But on the other hand - am I running out of hands? - I think that if Willow had met you while Oz was still in the picture, she still would have chosen you, eventually."
"I … really? You think so?" Tara asked, the warm glow she got at the end of Anya's ramblings making up for the things she had said earlier on. While she certainly didn't want to think of 'Oz', 'biting' and 'sex' at the same time, let alone at the same time as 'Willow', the idea that Willow would have chosen her anyway warmed her all the way through.
"Oh, definitely," Anya said. "It would have been a lot harder for Willow, and she wouldn't have let anything actually happen while she was with Oz, but she would have eventually broken up with him to be
with you."
"I was … I was so surprised when she chose me. Even after everything we had done together, I never thought - I always thought that if Oz came back, or if another boy showed any interest…" Tara said, her voice trailing off as she remembered that magical night when Willow had chosen her.
"So you didn't think Willow was serious about the two of you?" Anya questioned.
"Well, how could I? I mean, we knew each other for such a long time before you all even knew I existed. We started kissing before that, and … I just kind of thought that, well, she liked me well enough, as a person - but I never actually though that she was in love with me. It was … the best surprise of my life,"
Tara said.
"I remember the look on your face when Oz walked in," Anya remembered. "You looked like … you'd had your guts ripped out … and I would know, because I've seen lots of people who'd had their guts ripped out."
"That's what it felt like," Tara said softly. "It was like … I couldn't breathe anymore, and I just … I had
to be anywhere but there. But the worst was when Willow came over before she had made up her mind. We talked, and from the things she said, I was completely sure I was going to lose her. Then she came over
later. It was nighttime, and I was alone, curled up on my bed, just hoping I would fall asleep and the pain would stop for the night, knowing that neither one would happen. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw them together, and I just… I wanted it to stop."
"And then?" Anya asked.
"I heard a knock at the door, so I made my way over. Half-hoping, half-afraid that it was Willow. Certainly, no one else ever came to my room, y'know? But I opened the door, and she was standing there with a lit candle in her hands," Tara reminisced, a faint smile edging her features.
"Candles are very romantic," Anya said knowledgably.
"Mmm," Tara agreed. "So she came in, and I was still sure she was going to break up with me to be with Oz. Not that we were officially together or anything, but still. I felt like she was breaking up with me. But this tiny little glimmer of hope kinda' grew inside me, which, in a way, made me feel worse, because I knew that when she crushed that, I wouldn't have anything left."
"But she didn't, right? I mean, she chose you right then?" Anya asked, unsure of exactly when everything had happened.
"She did," Tara said, a beatific smile lighting up her features. "She tried to explain, and I stammered something about how I understood, and that she needed to be with the one she loved. And then she said that she was, and … I felt my heart stop. And then when it started beating again, I knew in that moment that from that day on, it would beat for her."
"I bet Xander never says those kinds of things about me when I'm not around," Anya muttered quietly enough so as not to break into Tara's story.
"I thought I knew what it was to love her before, but after that moment, I lost every piece of myself. Still, there was a part of me that couldn't believe. So I kinda' said, 'you mean … ?' and I trailed off, chickening out. And she just nodded and said that she did, and then she said she'd make it up to me, starting right then. And then I blew out the candle," Tara said, her eyes aglow with warmth and love.
"And >then< you had sex!" Anya said triumphantly.
"W-we made love, yes," Tara confirmed, a blush crawling up her neck.
"So how was it?" Anya asked eagerly.
"I -" Tara started to say, unsure of whether or not she should even bother answering this question. Would Anya let it go if she said it was none of her business. "It was … amazing," she said with a helpless little shrug. "I mean, neither one of us had any idea what to do … with a woman and all, and … so we just kinda' … took it real slow. All night." Tara's blush grew as she remembered that night, and how shy and tentative they were. Still, it was as though Willow knew just how to touch her, and where, to drive her wild. And Willow had been so responsive, her groans and cute little squeaks filling the room as Tara loved her.
"All night?" Anya squeaked. "Xander can't go all night! That's not fair!"
"Then maybe you should have hooked up with Willow," Tara said with a laugh.
"But I like Xander's penis. Willow doesn't >have< a penis," she complained.
"Well, then it's a trade-off," Tara said with a smirk, even as she thought 'Thank the Goddess.'
"Hmph," Anya said, bouncing against the seat back and crossing her arms. "I want both. I want Xander's penis with Willow's stamina."
Tara blinked once, then blinked again. She chewed the inside of her lip, then bit her tongue. "No comment," she finally said, staring straight ahead at the road.
"What?" Anya demanded, turning in her seat to face the driver. "You have something to say, so out with it!"
"I've forgotten what it was," Tara said airily.
"That's just not fair," Anya whined, her shoulders slumping.
"You're right. It's not," Tara agreed, unwilling to share.
"Fine," Anya said, realizing she was getting nowhere fast. "Now what do we talk about?" she wondered aloud.
"What's with the bunny thing?" Tara finally asked. "Seriously … what's scary about bunnies?"
"What's not scary about bunnies?" Anya asked. "They're truly vicious creatures. You honestly have no idea."
"But that's just it … none of us have any idea. We all think bunnies are cute," Tara said.
"That's because you can't see it. I mean, how can you miss the teeth, and the way they hippity-hop? No natural creature of this world should be able to move like that. They're cunning and mean, and the damage they can do is … unspeakable," Anya finished with a shiver. "And could we not discuss bunnies when driving all alone on a deserted highway at night?" she asked. "This is giving me the creeps. I mean, next thing you know, the car is going to break down, my cell phone battery will die, and we'll be surrounded by desert bunnies bent on destruction. Then I'll be wounded in the leg," she went on, her agitation clearly visible as she squirmed in her seat. "It'll get infected, and you'll have to cut it off, and we only have a pocket knife, and while we're gone, the shop will get broken into, and I'm going to start PMS'ing any day now!"
"Where do you come up with this stuff?" Tara asked, a look of puzzled awe on her face.
"Well, it could happen," Anya said defensively. "And do you see what the bunnies do to me? They instill fear and panic and bizarre scenarios. We just need to add in the Initiative figuring out that I was a demon and deciding to do tests on me and parachuting in a unit, and it will be the worst night of my human life!"
"Okay," Tara said with a puzzled nod. "I can see now how bunnies are clearly evil and dangerous, so let's not speak of such things anymore."
"Good," Anya said.
They drove in silence, distracting thoughts of bunnies only keeping Tara busy for a few more moments before her thoughts turned inevitably to Willow. Sweet, smart, cute, funny Willow, who ran towards danger and forgave betrayals and stood up to mean fathers and brothers, all without knowing the full story. Willow, who loved her, and needed her, and was trying so hard to get clean.
Willow who was dying.
She had avoided the thought, chasing it away when it tried to seep into her brain, but she couldn't fight it off any longer. Willow was dying. Silent tears tracked down her face, even as a fierce resolve filled her.
Willow was dying.
Not if she could help it.
There had to be something - anything - that she could do. She couldn't sit back and watch the love of her life die, no matter what crazy things had come between them. She would defend Willow with her last breath if need be, or storm Hell itself and demand The Trickster let her go.
Her hands tightened on the wheel, until her knuckles glowed white in the night. She wouldn't let it happen. She would stop it. It couldn't happen - it was unthinkable. A world without Willow in it? How could she live in such a world? Why would she want to?
No matter the pain Willow had caused her, no matter the shaky state of their relationship, the fact remained: Willow was a part of her, and she was a part of Willow. If Willow were taken away, she knew that what was left of her wouldn't be worth a thing. Breathing hurt just thinking about it - she couldn't imagine what the actual loss would do to her.
"How fast does this thing go?" she muttered, pressing down harder on the gas. One-ten. One-twenty. The car began to shake a little, but held, and Tara kept it there, tearing through the night as if the denizens of hell were on her heels.
But she was going towards those denizens, because they had their claws in Willow, and she had to stop them.
"Tara?" Anya asked uncertainly, glancing at the speedometer.
"Yes?" Tara said tightly.
"We're, uhh … going kind of fast …" Anya offered up hesitantly.
"I know," Tara said, her face set in determined lines.
"We're not going to stop tonight, are we?" Anya finally asked after a few more minutes of silence, as the miles ticked away.
"No, we're not," Tara confirmed.
Anya merely nodded, letting the seat back and closing her eyes, getting comfortable. "Wake me up in three hours or so," she said calmly. "This road isn't very bendy, so I'll take a turn tonight. If you drive for two days straight, we're not going to make it."
"You can't drive," Tara pointed out, glancing at the ex-demon.
"I've done nothing but watch you drive for about three days," Anya said. "I think I have it figured out. And while I might not feel comfortable driving as fast as you, you can get some sleep, and we'll still be making better time than we would when I insist we stop so you can rest."
"Fine," Tara said tersely. "Three hours."
Anya nodded, satisfied with the response, and let herself drift off into sleep. Tara let the darkness and the quiet settle around her like a comfortable blanket. She needed that … she needed the feeling of solitude to let her emotions have free reign.
Love for Willow was the foremost, and the most familiar. It had been the prevalent feeling in her life for so long, it was like it lived in her skin, or in her very blood. It was as much a part of her as her blue eyes.
Then there was the pain at the thought of losing Willow. That felt different, but familiar. She was used to worrying about Willow - as a Scooby, Willow was constantly exposed to danger. But this - this wasn't the same. That had been a nebulous vague worry. Vampires. Demons. Stubbed toes. She loved Willow, and so she worried. But this - this certainty that, as things stood - unless something was changed - Willow was going to die? That feeling unsettled her, set her teeth on edge, and sent sharp daggers of pain lancing towards her heart.
But it was the anger that she was ashamed of, and why she needed the comfort of solitude. She couldn't let anyone know about the anger. She was so mad - at Willow, at herself, at the whole world - that she didn't know how she was holding back the screams. But she did hold them back. Mustn't wake Anya. Mustn't let her see.
Tara let these feelings roll around inside her as she drove, pushing the car to its limits, she assumed. For all she really knew, this car could do twice this speed, but she couldn't risk it. Her need to be by Willow's side quickly was tempered by her need to arrive in one piece. She certainly couldn't do Willow any good if she managed to get herself killed on the way home.
Though it was the anger that made her ashamed, it was that feeling that scared her - the feeling that it might not be so bad if she died tonight. That way, she wouldn't have to watch as Willow slowly died, day by day, growing weaker and angrier as the Dark Magick seeped into her blood. She wouldn't have to watch those green eyes she loved so much shade to black as Willow fought the urge to just cast one last spell. She wouldn't have to watch Willow take her last shaking breath.
But no - that was the coward's way out. Willow was still alive, and she needed Tara now more than ever. As attractive as the idea was of waiting for Willow to arrive in the afterlife, instead of waiting for Willow to leave in this one, she knew she couldn't do that. She would see Willow again, in this life, and she would fight for her, and as long as there was that last shred of hope, she'd keep fighting. Her heart wouldn't let her do otherwise.
[This message has been edited by Sassette (edited February 23, 2002).]
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"Anya," she said, gently shaking the sleeping form in the seat next to her.
"Huh? Wha'?" Anya said, rubbing her bleery eyes.
"Do you still want to take a turn?" Tara said, the emotional toll of the day finally catching up with her, making her realize how exhausted she was, now that the car had stopped.
Anya nodded. "Let me just …" she said, opening the door to the cold night, her eyes popping open. "Cold! Cold!" she exclaimed, releasing her seatbelt and jumping out of the car, hopping up and down. "Okay … I'm awake!" she declared, huddling up slamming the door, running over to the driver's side.
Tara unlocked the door, wearily crawling into the other seat, her limbs feeling heavy and awkward. She was stiff and sore, and her back and her leg ached. Why hadn't she noticed these things before?
"Because Willow is dying, and they're completely unimportant," she whispered bleakly, answering her own question as Anya slipped into the car.
"Okay," Anya said, taking a deep breath and releasing it. Smoothly, she pressed down on the brake pedal, then released the parking brake. She checked the mirrors, seeing no headlights - which wasn't surprising, because she couldn't remember the last car they had seen - then eased out onto the road, her motions a little jerky, but quickly smoothing out. "There - this isn't so hard," she said, taking one hand off the wheel to rub the sleep out of her eyes and drifting into the other lane.
"Both hands," Tara said quickly, making Anya jump.
"Right," Anya said. "Both hands on the wheel," she muttered under her breath, settling in for the long drive. She eased the car up to forty, feeling as though she were driving way too fast. "This is so weird," she mused. "I'm going one third the speed you were, but I feel like … it's really >really< fast. Why didn't it feel this fast when you were driving?" she asked.
"Because it's different when you're the one driving. You're more aware of what the car is actually doing," Tara mumbled, settling into the seat and letting her heavy eyelids drift shut. "It makes sense when you … think .. about it," she muttered, drifting off into an exhausted sleep, even as she finished speaking.
Anya nodded with satisfaction, looking over at the sleeping form. "Okay," she said to herself. "I'm driving a car. This is a big responsibility. But I've leveled cities and destroyed kingdoms. This shouldn't be too tough."
Tentatively, she eased up to fifty.
The miles ticked by, Anya experimentally increasing her speed as she grew more comfortable behind the wheel. She had a few bad moment when the road turned, but she managed to navigate the twists without waking Tara or killing them, so she considered it a success, even if she did have to cross that annoying double-yellow line. Who made that rule, anyway? What did it matter if she crossed the line when the road was all empty?
She relaxed into her drive and her musings about the idiocy of traffic laws, content to follow the road and let Tara sleep. She was worried. Tara had taken quite an emotional beating the last week, and now with this Willow thing on top of it? It was amazing to Anya that Tara was still standing. Not that she was standing, or was even conscious, but she meant that in the metaphoric sense. Only the deep shadows and slight lines of tension around her eyes and mouth spoke of Tara's worries.
Still, Tara was clearly exhausted to anyone who knew her. The fact that she had driven so late into the night showed her strength and determination. She hoped, for her own sake as well as Tara's, that the Scoobies would pull off another miracle, and save Willow.
The sharp chirp of the phone startled Tara out of her uneasy dreams, and she reached automatically for the glove box, popping it open and picking up the phone. Anya had jumped a little in her seat, inadvertently pressing on the gas and making the car shoot forward, but regaining control of both herself and the car after just a moment.
"Hello?" Tara said, her voice groggy with sleep. Silence greeted her on the other end of the phone, and she sat up, frowning. "Hello?" she asked again, and still only silence greeted her. A strange feeling settled into her stomach. "Willow?" she said tentatively.
"Tara?" Willow asked back, her voice a ragged whisper.
"Willow, baby?" Tara said, sitting up ramrod straight, her voice urgent and pleading. "I'm coming home, sweetheart. You hang on for me," she said, her voice breaking.
"I should be okay for a few weeks," Willow answered, her voice shaky. "I … I need you," she said, the words coming through the line as if they had been torn out of the depths of Willow's heart without her permission and passed on to Tara. "I- I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I … I don't have the right to -"
"You have every right," Tara said fiercely. "No matter what else is going on, I love you." Tara bit her lip, trying to hold back her own tears as Willow's quiet sobs echoed over the phone line. "Don't cry, baby," she said softly. "Please don't cry. I'm going to get there as soon as I can."
"I just … oh, God, I needed to hear that so badly," Willow managed to get out. "I love you so much, Tara … and I'm so sorry that I … that I let it all get this bad."
"None of that matters," Tara said quickly. "Just concentrate on staying well - on figuring out how we're going to save you, because I refuse to let you -" She couldn't finish the sentence.
"Die," Willow said starkly. "The word is 'die'."
"Don't you say that," Tara said, her voice choked. "You are >not< going to die, do you hear me?" she demanded. "I might need time, or space, but … baby, there's nothing I couldn't forgive you, do you understand that? Except this. If you die on me, I … I don't know if I could ever forgive you that," Tara said, her own sobs making her words hard to understand.
"You can't mean that," Willow said, her voice catching. "After what I did - how could you forgive me?"
"Because I love you, and it was a mistake," Tara said. "It was a stupid, hurtful mistake, but it was still a mistake. A bad judgement call. But you've learned your lesson, sweetheart. I have too," she finished on a broken whisper. "I think … I think we've both learned far too much from this one," she said, getting a mirthless laugh from Willow.
"I have learned my lesson, Tara … I swear it to you," Willow said. "I … I look back now, and I can't … I can't believe how utterly wrong I was. I can't believe that I would do such a thing, to you of all people."
They both fell silent, each listening to the other breathing on the line, taking comfort in the fact that the other was there, if only over the phone.
"Miss Kitty says hi," Willow finally said with a sniffle after several long moments.
"Miss Kitty?" Tara asked, her brow furrowing.
"S-Spike found her," Willow sobbed. "She's okay, but she's a kitten again," she said, forcing the words pass the tightness in her throat. "Hear her purr?" Tara heard the sound of the phone moving, then the distinctive rumble of a purring kitten. She couldn't help but smile when she heard the sound. "Baby?" Willow asked, when she brought the phone back to her ear.
"I'm here," Tara confirmed, a watery smile on her face. "Put Miss Kitty back on," she requested.
"I'll hold her up so we can both hear," Willow offered, the sound of Willow's breathing and Miss Kitty's purrs reaching Tara's hearing, bringing back sweet memories of lazy mornings past.
"Miss Kitty? You take good care of your mommy Willow until I get there, okay?" Tara softly requested, wiping at her eyes. "You give her lots of love and attention for me, all right?"
"She's nodding her little kitten head," Willow said, and Tara could hear the smile in her voice.
"Good. I trust Miss Kitty to know how to take proper care of you," Tara said.
"I should … I should get back to the research," Willow finally said, her voice sad and lost. "We've found out a few things, but … not enough."
"Not enough, yet," Tara said, stressing the last word. "We'll get past this, baby, I swear it."
"I don't wanna' hang up," Willow said, sniffling again.
"I don't want to either," Tara said, holding the phone like a lifeline. "But baby … I'll be there as soon as I can, I promise. And you have to do the research. We have to find a way to fix this, because I refuse to let you go."
"I love you, baby," Willow said again, needing to express what was in her heart. "More than anything … I - I don't have the words to tell you -"
"I already know," Tara said. "Because it's how much I love you."
They both sat in silence for a moment, taking comfort in their brief connection before each disconnected their phones, neither willing to say 'good-bye'.
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[This message has been edited by ForeverPiper (edited February 23, 2002).]
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*shrug* Tomorrow's a Saturday.
-Sass
***edited to add: Sorry ... that was, as it turns out, a cruel trick. Me tired. Me going to sleep soon. Screen blurry.***
[This message has been edited by Sassette (edited February 23, 2002).]
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Two : What kind of a bizarre girl is that Anya anyway, huh ? Kinda makes you wonder what's going on in her head to come up with such weird little scenarios, huh ? (nervous faux laugh). Erm.
Three: This rocks.
Three and a Half : You write Anya like nobody's business. I love that in this story, even if it is a W/T story, other Scoobs are well treated, if you see what I mean. A sign of great writing, that is.
Three and a Half and then some more: Talk to the hand, cause the head ain't gonna hear it anymore. And if you actually understand why I just wrote *that*, well, you're as scary as me.*g*
FrenchRose
[This message has been edited by FrenchRose (edited February 23, 2002).]
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quote:
Originally posted by Sassette:
**Pixie - *runs over and gives mouth to mouth resuscitation* You gotta' wake up for the next update!).]
Mmf...wha'...Sass? Mmmm...mouth to mouth...Okay, I'm awake!
*Pixie reads update*
Oh, Anya lying to protect Tara. "Oz, biting, sex, and Willow" tee, hee! Tara telliing the extra flamey story - how sweet and romantic! And Xander's penis with Willow's stamina! Lol What was Tara going to say? Anya's explanation of the viciousness of bunnies, followed by her paranoid scenario - oh my God, LMAO! *Pixie tries not to startle the cats or wake the neighbors*
Tara's pain, and the phone conversation! *sniffle...sob...thud!*
*Pixie cracks one eye open* Um, Sass? There was another thud...I might need mouth to mouth resucitation again...do you think you could check?...
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And I agree with FrenchRose – your Anya is fantastic. I wish the show could give her this kind of attention and development. BTW, some of Anya's rantings sounded oddly familiar, but maybe it was just my imagination.
And something I forgot to mention about the last part (thank goodness your muse is so prolific!) – that scene with Willow hugging her knees and crying was so painful. Any time Willow cries on the show it’s hard to watch, but it was just as painful the way you described it in your fic. Great job!
After reading this, I’m beginning to think that you should pair up each of the Scoobies and lock them in a room or car so we can get all this fascinating insight into their personalities. You really learn a lot that way.
A pleasure to read, as always.
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BTW, cut and pasted all the sections into Word... 95k words and 170+ pages.
[This message has been edited by YuriPup (edited February 23, 2002).]
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I loved the exchanges between Tara and Anya. and especially the little bit about Tara not thinking vengence was really nice and what Anya thought of that.
One thing, wasn't Tara in a chair looking out of a window in NMR before Willow came to her with the flamey candle?
Great update Sass, bring on the next parts...I am ready for them.
------------------
'The cold and ruthless sea tossed the lovers' into the starry black night. together they fall, together they sleep. forever.. forever.. *whisper*forever..the cold and ruthless sea...' By Sweets
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Title: Answering Darkness Part 31 - Research
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to pink_overalls@yahoo.com
Summary: Willow gets the news about several new developments.
Spoiler Warning: Up to and including "Tabula Rasa" in Season 6.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I'm just borrowing them because Season 6 angst is running high, and I want my happy ending now, dammit! So I'm writing it … but it'll be awhile until I get to that part, so bear with me (or "bare" with me if you're naughty).
Rating: PG-13
Notes: For the purpose of this story, all events of Tabula Rasa took place exactly as shown in the series; however, no subsequent episodes will affect this piece. We're splitting from canon here, because this seems the fastest way to get a reconciliation and because I feel this is one of the possible outcomes when taking the "addiction" metaphor into account. So, I should shut the heck up now, and just get to the story, right? Right.
Answering Darkness Part 31
Research
By Sassette
Willow walked gingerly down the stairs, shivering slightly, an old pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt hanging loosely on her small frame. She had stayed in the shower, washing away the darkness until long after the water had turned cold.
“I don’t know Latin,” Dawn’s tremulous voice drifted up to her.
“We’ll find what we need,” she heard Buffy’s voice answer firmly.
She entered the living room, surprised to see the transformation. Gone were Buffy’s papers, and instead, huge stacks of books from the magic shop covered the table. Her laptop was open in front of Dawn.
“Dawnie?” Willow said in a soft voice. “My laptop?”
“Oh, I –“ Dawn said, a guilty look crossing her features. “We … we needed to find some things, on the internet. I, uh… I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“Oh, of course,” Willow said, nodding. “I don’t mind. I mean, I prefer to be asked first, but … y’know, I was all in the shower and stuff. I guess you can’t be expected to walk on in, huh?” she finished weakly, moving to sit on the couch.
Buffy grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch, wordlessly wrapping it around her shivering friend.
“How are you feeling?” she asked softly.
“Better,” Willow said with a small smile. “All squeaky-clean.”
“I’ll, uhh … I’ll just … get more coffee,” Dawn said, rushing from the room. Only then did Willow notice the two steaming cups sitting on the table.
“You’re letting Dawn drink coffee?” Willow asked incredulously.
“Well, we’ve got lots of research to do,” Buffy defended herself. “And we need all the help we can get. Xander’s on the way over,” she added needlessly.
“Well, I didn’t think he’d be anywhere else,” Willow said. “Hell God and all – that’s a job for the Scooby Gang.”
“Right,” Buffy said, unable to bring herself to laugh at Willow’s joke, the sick knowledge of what could happen to Willow sitting heavily in her stomach. While Willow had been in the shower, she had called Tara, and she had no idea how she was faring. Anya had said they were two days out, but Buffy had no idea how Willow’s condition would progress, and even if she’d be coherent in two days time.
“Buffy, I’m … I’m sorry,” Willow said miserably, sniffing. “I never meant to-“
“I know, Will,” Buffy said, reaching out and squeezing her hand.
“Buffy? Is something wrong?” Willow asked slowly, a little frown on her face. “I mean, other than the stuff I already know about? Because you look like …” Willow said, trailing off, only to start up again in a panicked voice. “Buffy, what aren’t you telling me? Did you get a phone call? Is Tara all right? Nothing happened at her father’s house, did it?”
“No, Tara’s fine,” Buffy assured her. “Actually, I’m … really worried about you,” Buffy said.
“Yeah, I’m a little worried about me, too,” Willow admitted. “This is … really hard.”
“It’s … everything’s worse than we thought,” Buffy said carefully. “Willow,” she went on, taking Willow’s hand, her voice unusually serious, causing Willow’s worry to jump several notches. “The Dark Magick that’s inside you? It’s … it’s basically poisoning you. If it builds up too much and takes over your blood, you could –“ she said, her voice cracking and then she stopped, unable to get the word past the tightness in her throat.
“I could die, couldn’t I?” Willow asked softly, her eyes wide.
“God, Willow, I’m so … sorry,” Buffy said, the words sounding empty and hollow in her ears.
“Exactly how does that work?” Willow asked calmly.
“The Trickster keeps sending you the magick,” Buffy answered starkly, her voice sounding raw and troubled. “It’s building up inside you, which is why it’s trying so hard to get out. It’s why you feel so bad right now. It – the magick is going to eventually take over your blood.”
“I –“ Willow said, only to stop as she tried to digest the information. Her immediate thoughts all circled around Tara. How would she take it? Would she be okay once Willow was gone? Did she even know? Ruthlessly, she pushed the thoughts aside as tears welled up in her eyes. “I guess we got lots of work to do, then, huh?” Willow asked, all color draining from her face as she moved into the chair Dawn had vacated and pulled the laptop towards her. “We have to figure out exactly what my connection to the Hell God is, what exactly he needs me for, and those should give us some clues on how to stop him from pumping Dark Magick into me.”
Willow hunched over the keyboard, her fingers flying, every now and again moving the mouse around and clicking, seemingly at random. Buffy watched for a moment, seeing the dawning horror and panic starting to creep across Willow’s face.
“Willow, you need to rest,” Buffy said, leveling a stare at the redhead.
“Rest? How the hell am I supposed to rest right now, Buffy?” Willow demanded, looking up at her with a fierce look on her face. “I need to not think about it right now, and in order to not think about it, I need to be busy. Because if I think about it, I’m going to …” she went on, her face crumbling. Tara’s face swam before her eyes, and she realized that all she wanted to do was crawl into her arms where she knew she’d be safe. She choked back a sob, shaking off the thoughts, clenching her jaw and going determinedly back to the research and ignoring the worried looks Buffy kept sending her way.
“I have coffee,” Dawn said, entering the room slowly, a tray in her hands.
“Did you make me some?” Willow asked, her voice hoarse.
“Of course I did,” Dawn said. “And I … I kinda’, umm,” she said slowly, suddenly unsure as to whether or not her plan had been a good idea. “Yours might taste kind of funny,” she confessed, looking over at Willow. “I put … I put some of that baking soda in with the sugar, so … I figured if you could kinda’ … take out some of the dark stuff in your tummy, it might slow it down. From the inside.”
“That’s … that’s a good idea, Dawn,” Willow said. “That could help,” Willow said with a small smile as a relieved look crossed Dawn’s face.
“I … I had to do something,” Dawn said weakly. “We can’t lose you.” Tears welled up in Dawn's eyes, and Willow immediately felt the need to reassure the scared teenager.
“You won’t lose me, Dawn,” Willow said fiercely, resolve face firmly in place. “I have no intention of leaving any of you.”
A relieved look crossed Dawn’s face. “Really?” she asked, handing over the cup of coffee and wanting so badly to believe Willow's words.
“Really,” Willow assured, taking the cup, then squeezing Dawn’s hand.
“And the donut man approacheth,” Xander said, walking into the house with a big box of donuts in his hand. He set the donuts on the table, immediately pulling Willow out of her chair and into a hug. “How are you holding up, Wills?” he asked softly.
Willow leaned into him, returning the hug for a moment before pulling back. “Y’know … another day on the Hellmouth,” she said lightly. “If one of use weren’t in mortal peril, it wouldn’t quite be the same.”
“That’s not funny, Will,” Xander said with a frown.
“I know it’s not,” Willow snapped, her eyes flashing. “I’m … I’m sorry,” she said, sitting back down heavily. “I just –“
“It’s okay. I understand,” Xander said, hunkering down next to her and patting her arm awkwardly. “So,” he said, looking around the room. “Another Scooby all-nighter?”
“I’ll get you some coffee,” Dawn said, standing up and heading back into the kitchen.
Effectively dismissing her friends, unable to deal with the fear in their eyes, Willow turned back to her computer. Dawn had several files open that she had never seen before, but they were certainly informative.
“Dawn?” she called out.
“Yeah?” Dawn called back from the kitchen.
“Where did these files come from?” she asked curiously.
“Giles sent them from the council,” Dawn answered back.
“Giles used the ‘infernal machine’ and emailed me some files?” Willow muttered incredulously. “This really >is< the Apocalypse.”
“Actually, he didn’t send them,” Buffy said, looking up from her book. “Apparently, he’s on a team of Council ‘rejects’ … they get all the crap jobs. They consider Giles to be ‘unconventional’ and he’s their hero,” she went on wryly.
“Giles is unconventional?” Xander asked with a smirk. “Who knew our stodgy watcher-man was such a rebel?”
“Anyway, one of the guys on the team is some kind of computer-guy, which is why the Council really doesn’t like him. That whole team is working on this, getting information and trying to decipher those prophecies. This guy will email updates whenever they have them,” Buffy said, finishing explaining.
“Cool,” Willow said absently, scrolling through the documents, translating the Latin in her head as she went.
She clicked open her email, seeing a message that had been read already, sent from England. She opened the message, hoping the actual email message had more information about what was in the documents.
Willow,
I’m having one of my colleagues send you information on this infernal machine. It seems more efficient than letting you write things out longhand when I call; however, I will still call every time I send information to get an update on the happenings in Sunnydale, and to confirm that you receive these files. Included is the full text of the prophecy we’re working on now, several documents relating to The Trickster, as well as a compilation of first-hand accounts of mystical events that may have included The Trickster.
-Giles
“Ah … so that’s what I’m looking at,” Willow mumbled, clicking back to the documents. “Now,” she said louder. “We think this witch who defeated The Trickster was related to me, right?”
“Right,” Buffy confirmed with a nod. “That’s our current working theory.”
Willow nodded, then turned back to her computer, opening up the files she had on her own genealogy. It had been a project she was working on, but had shelved several times over the last few years, what with Scooby things and school, then the responsibilities of taking care of Dawn and the Scooby Gang after Buffy’s death. Would her passing leave a hole like that?
Determinedly, she pushed the thoughts away, going back to her research. It should be easy enough, really, with the groundwork she already had, to trace her line back through the women in her family, and see what she found.
Willow lost herself in her task, finding that the work allowed her to focus on something other than the startling revelations of the day and Tara’s aching absence. The Scoobies worked around her in silence, for once the loud complaints and the jokes gone.
“I think I found something,” Xander said, surprise evident in his voice.
“What do you have?” Buffy asked, looking up sharply from her book, which was a big bust. Everyone stopped, and Xander gulped as all eyes focused on him.
“Oddly enough, I think it’s about Angel,” he said with a frown. “It … it kinda’ fits, y’know?”
“What is it?” Dawn pressed.
“Well, it talks about the three Hell Gods. The Trickster, The Beast, and The Scales.”
“The Scales?” Buffy asked with a frown. “That’s a pretty lame name for a Hell God. I think I’d be all pissed off if I were that one.”
“It’s about what function they serve. The Beast, Glory, was all about rage and fear ... primal-type stuff," he said slowly. "The Trickster is all reason and logic and cunning. Nasty guy, though. The Scales ... is kinda' ... not a guy OR a girl ... but something else."
"A hermaphroditic Hell God?" Willow asked, a confused look on her face.
"Right," Xander said with a nod. "Anyway, The Scales is just that ... the balance between The Beast and The Trickster. Anyway, The Trickster ... well, tricked The Scales into helping him banish Glory, which is why she was here."
"So how does Angel tie into this?" Buffy asked quietly.
"Well, they kinda' list a few of each Hell God's accomplishments, showing how they can influence things here, even when they're in Hell. The Trickster, apparently, supplied the big Dark Magick juice needed to curse Angel with his soul in the first place. At least, that's what I'm guessing. The details are vague here, but the timeline is right," Xander said, handing the book over to Willow.
Willow read in silence, looking over the passage Xander indicated, nodding as she read.
"But why would a bad guy make a good vampire?" Dawn asked.
"Because it's a curse," Willow said hollowly, looking up with haunted eyes. "That spell doomed Angel to an eternity of torment - a past that haunted him that he could never atone for. And I did the same thing to him," she said starkly.
“Willow – you did what you had to do,” Buffy said gently. “You didn’t do it to send him into torment … you did it to keep him from hurting people. To keep me from hurting by having to kill him.”
“Yeah, and that worked out so well,” Willow said bitterly. “You had to kill him anyway, only you had to look him in the eye, knowing he had his soul back.”
“That’s …” Buffy said, her heart clenching as she remembered that moment with stark clarity. “That’s not the point, Willow. You did it for all the right reasons.”
“I did it because I could,” Willow shot back. “I wanted to prove something to myself – that I was powerful enough to do it. But I wasn’t,” she said.
“The spell worked,” Xander puzzled out. “Of course you were powerful enough.”
“No,” Willow said with a shake of her head. “I … I felt something when I cast, like … some power surging through me. It was … euphoric. And then it was gone, and I felt so empty. That was him – The Trickster. That’s when I opened the door and let him in, because I was too sure I knew what I was doing, and I didn’t stop and think of the consequences.”
“Oh my God,” Xander breathed. “That long ago?” he asked, his voice squeaking.
Willow just nodded, a look of pure misery on her face. “It had to have been. He needed time to make his connection to me this strong, right? And he supplied the power for the original curse. It only makes sense that he would be paying attention when someone tried the curse again.”
“So if he started his big Hell God plan way back then, what else has he been doing?” Buffy wondered aloud, the words falling heavily into the room.
“I – I don’t know,” Willow said softly. “It could be anything, and we wouldn’t know. We’d have no way of knowing what bad things happened that were just us, or were helped along by him.”
“Okay, The Trickster no longer seems all court-jester-y,” Xander said with a frown. “His creepiness factor is steadily climbing.”
“I’ll … I’ll be right back,” Willow said, standing up and leaving the room. She grabbed the phone and the rolodex, making her way into the kitchen and dialing. She paused, listening to the phone ring before it was picked up.
“Anya?” she said quietly. “It’s Willow, but don’t tell Tara I’m on the phone.”
In the other room, Xander said softly enough to not be overheard, “Buffy, this is really freaking me out. Willow’s taking this whole thing a little too calmly.”
“Just … I just need to know how she is,” Willow whispered brokenly into the phone. “Tell me she’s okay.”
“I know,” Buffy whispered back to Xander. “I think … it’s probably going to hit her all at once. And Willow snapping into a million pieces is not something I care to see.”
“Thank you, Anya,” Willow said, her voice grateful as tears welled up in her eyes. “I know you and I haven’t really gotten along, but take care of her for me, okay? In case something happens before you get here. Make sure she’s all right. She’s always liked you, and she’ll need a friend.”
“I just wish Tara were here,” Xander whispered back, turning to his book when Willow walked back into the room, wiping tears from her eyes as surreptitiously as possible and going back to her seat.
“I need more information,” Willow said quickly, turning back to her research with a manic intensity that garnered worried looks from all the Scoobies present. “I have to know … what happened before and … I have to know.”
She continued muttering, occasionally taking notes, as she continued tracing her genealogy. The Scoobies exchanged worried glances before turning back to their own books, determined to find a way to save Willow.
Willow frowned at her computer, having traced her ancestry back several generations to Scotland. As far as she knew, it was the only scrap of blood in her that came from that area, but it followed the female line back, and it was the right culture to have standing stones, so she felt she was on the right track. As encouraging as this was, it was eminently frustrating that she couldn’t find anything further back than the woman who had come to America, and there was no evidence to suggest she had practiced magick of any kind.
With a sigh, she shot off an email to Giles’ computer guy, filling him in on what she knew so far. It may have been a bust from her point of view, but since the Council was in England anyway, she figured they should have better records than she could get over the internet.
She really had to find the time to finish writing her Latin translation program, she mused idly as she switched over to the crazed ramblings of a madmen – a prophet whose words seemed to be about The Trickster and his rise to power. A sinking feeling in her gut reminded her that she just might be out of time – that she might never finish the program. Or college. Never get back together with Tara. Never travel. There were so many books she hadn’t read, and so many places she hadn’t seen. So many things she had never bothered to learn.
She continued reading through her tears, unable to make heads or tails of the document in front of her. It clearly made no sense, and while she might be able to figure it all out if she had a few months to study it, she was certainly no expert when it came to that sort of thing.
With another frown, she changed documents again, reading over their information on The Trickster. Her frown deepened the further she read. Where Glory was short-sighted and self-centered, The Trickster was calculating and philanthropic in a twisted Hell God kind of way. He saw humanity as a bunch of childish powerless Glory’s … and as such, his goals seemed to center around leading humanity to a maturity of pure cold reason, untempered by compassion or altruism. Willow shivered as she read, finding that while the world wouldn’t end if The Trickster made his way out of Hell, all of humanity would be subjugated to his will and pressed into worship.
Engrossed in her work, she blocked out the sound of conversation around her, until a round of mocking laughter echoed around the room. She looked up, listening to Dawn and Buffy and Xander talking about how worthless she was – how glad they were that she was going to die. She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes tight, tears streaming down her face as each word seemed to stab her through the heart.
In the silent room, each of the Scoobies heard Willow make a noise like a wounded animal, the sound startling them out of their reading. Each looked up to see Willow crying quietly, silent sobs shaking her shoulders.
“Willow?” Buffy asked uncertainly, starting to rise as Dawn rushed to her side.
“Willow,” Dawn said, reaching out, only to see Willow flinch away as if she sensed the movement without the benefit of sight.
Xander looked on helplessly as Willow seemed to curl in on herself, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, her head bending down. She rocked forward and back slowly, a strange keening sound punctuated by sobs filling the room.
“What do we do?” Dawn asked, afraid to reach out again.
“I don’t know,” Xander said, moving closer to Willow, but keeping his distance enough that he didn’t startle her.
Willow heard each word, each taunt and jab shaking her to the core. She deserved this. She had brought all of this on herself with her own insecurities. But they were deserved insecurities – her friends weren’t really her friends. They only cared as long as she was useful. Now, she was useless and dying and they were stuck with her, just waiting for her to stop … being.
“No,” Willow moaned, hugging her knees tighter. “No …” she said again on a choked whisper. The loved her. She knew it. This was a trick. It was all a trick.
No, their friendship and love had been the trick. Now she was seeing the truth. The truth was, none of them had ever loved her. Not Xander, not Oz … and not Tara.
“No,” Willow said again, her heart breaking in two. Tara loved her. She knew it. She was rushing home to be with her – Anya had said so.
And then it was clear. Tara did love her. When she didn’t know what was real, when she had nothing left to hold onto, she knew this to the very core of her being. Tara loved her. They might not be together right now, but that parting had hurt Tara every bit as much as it had hurt her. Tara loved her.
The shaking subsided, as did the voices, and after a long moment, Willow was able to raise her head and wipe at her eyes.
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, looking at the concerned – and loving – faces of her friends. Her family. “It – kinda’ got intense there for a minute.”
“Here,” Dawn said, handing over the long-forgotten and cold coffee.
“Thanks,” Willow said, gingerly taking the cup, then downing the liquid quickly.
She gasped, pain ripping through her stomach. Xander rushed to her side as she doubled over, crossing her arms over her belly and grimacing. Her contents of her stomach roiled, and then it subsided. With a few shaky breaths, she extricated herself from Xander’s arms and sat up, noticing immediately that she felt … lighter … freer … than she had in days.
“That was … whoah,” she said slowly.
“I-I’m sorry,” Dawn said, a stricken look on her face. “I didn’t know it … I didn’t know,” she said.
“No, it’s okay,” Willow said quickly. “I feel … I mean, it hurt for a bit, but … I feel so much better,” she reassured the girl. “It’s … it’s really strange.”
“But I should have realized,” Dawn went on. “I mean, it made that weird hissing sound in the bucket.”
“I didn’t think of that, either,” Willow said.
“But you’re okay?” Buffy asked from Willow’s side, surprising Willow. She hadn’t noticed Buffy move.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Willow said. “I … I think we better get back to the research.”
They all nodded, moving back to their study spots and picking up their books.
“Knock knock,” Spike said, opening the door of the Summers home and sauntering in. His coat was closed up, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Buffy said wryly.
“Funny you should mention that,” Spike said with a grin. “Because I was just playing poker with me mates.”
“Oh, God … with the betting of the kittens?” Buffy said with a groan.
“Kittens?” Willow asked, horrified. “You bet kittens?” A flash of sadness hit her as she remembered her beloved Miss Kitty Fantastico, who had disappeared that summer. A suspicious look crossed her face as she glared at Spike, until she remembered that Miss Kitty wouldn’t have qualified as a ‘kitten’ at the time. Still … “You … you have to bet kittens, though, right?” she asked weakly. “No cats?”
“That’s right,” Spike confirmed, nodding. “However, it seems some temporal demon was cheating … out stealing cats, making them kittens again,” he said, pursing his lips. “Doesn’t change anything, or hurt the kitties, but still … it’s just not done, y’know?”
“How’d you find that out?” Buffy asked, wondering what Spike’s point was.
“Well, I recognized this one,” Spike said, moving one arm and gingerly unfastening to front of his coat, revealing a small bundle of fur. “Took me awhile to win her back, but …” he said with a shrug, gently handing the kitten to Willow, who mewed happily as if recognizing one of her mommy’s and settling in her lap.
“Miss Kitty?” Willow gasped, tears stinging her eyes. “I …” She hugged the kitten to her, rubbing her cheek against the soft fur and listening to her purr. “Oh, Miss Kitty,” she said, holding her away to check her over for any hurts. Finding none, she gave a relieved sigh, then let the kitten settle in her lap, laughing through her tears at her little kitty yawn as she settled in for a nap. “Thank you, Spike,” she said, looking up at the vampire, then promptly bursting into tears.
“Hey, now,” Spike said, a troubled look on his face. “No crying, all right? I hate seeing women cry,” he muttered.
“It’s … complicated,” Buffy said slowly, watching Willow cuddle the kitten and give vent to her fear and anger at her situation. “She … really needs this,” she whispered, pulling Spike into the kitchen and motioning everyone to follow her.
“What the bloody hell is going on?” Spike asked angrily. “I show up with her lost kitten … and let me tell you, both Red and Blondie >sobbed< when that little bugger left, and now she’s bawling?”
“She’s dying, Spike,” Buffy said bluntly.
“What?” he asked incredulously.
“She’s … the Dark Magick is killing her. She can’t cast spells, so she can’t get rid of it. It’s building up,” she explained quickly.
“Oh, God … does Tara know?” he asked, frowning.
Buffy nodded, her eyes filling up with tears. “But Willow’s been kind of … she … it’s like it hadn’t hit her yet. I think seeing Miss Kitty made it all sink in.”
“So we’re just standing her in the kitchen while Red sobs her heart out?” Spike asked slowly. “I mean, I’m evil … what’s your excuse for being heartless?”
“Hey!” Xander said, offended.
“Especially you, you wanker,” Spike said acidly. “Known her since she was five? Gonna’ watch her die.”
“I think she just needs some time alone,” Buffy said, holding Xander back as he tried to get at Spike. “We’re not being heartless,” she snapped. “I just … I don’t think … I don’t think Willow would really let herself cry like she needs to in front of us. She’s always been the strong one.”
“Right – the Scooby Rock,” Spike said, his lips pursed. “And her rock is off haring after her mother’s things.”
“Tara’s on her way back, though,” Buffy confirmed.
“So how do we save Red?” Spike asked, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin, expecting Buffy and Xander to protest his involvement.
“Why would you want to help?” Buffy asked, unable to stop the question. “Honestly – you hate us. Why would you want to help?”
Spike took Buffy’s arm gently, pulling her aside. “I have my reasons,” he said in a hushed tone. “I may be an evil bastard, but I pay my debts. Willow gave the group a direction when you were gone … without her and Dawn, I wouldn’t have had a reason to get out of my crypt in the evening. She kept everyone going, and though it pains me to admit it, that includes me. So I owe her.”
“That just may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said,” Buffy said softly.
“Don’t get used to it,” Spike said petulantly. “I’m still evil.”
“You’re the Diet Coke of Evil,” Buffy said with a smirk.
“You take that back! Right now,” Spike insisted.
“Or what?” Buffy shot back. “You’ll glare me to death?”
“Fine,” Spike said tersely. “So how do we help Red?”
“We hit the books,” Buffy said. “Think you can handle sitting still long enough?”
“Whatever it takes.”
Buffy just nodded to Spike, then the others, motioning towards the door with her head. They walked quietly back into the living room, seeing Willow curled up in the chair, Miss Kitty cradled against her chest. Her face was red and puffy from crying as she held the phone and awkwardly dialed with the same hand.
Willow lifted the phone to her ear, sniffling softly. A voice answered, and Willow froze, her eyes going wide. The Scoobies looked on, their concern rising as Willow continued to hold the phone to her ear, her jaw slightly open.
“Tara?” Willow whispered raggedly.
IP: Logged
posted February 22, 2002 15:34 Gee, guys ... it isn't THAT angsty, is it? 12-step program? Withdrawals? Geeeze. So, since there's withdrawals involved, and we can't have that ... here you go.Title: Answering Darkness Part 31 - Research
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to pink_overalls@yahoo.com
Summary: Willow gets the news about several new developments.
Spoiler Warning: Up to and including "Tabula Rasa" in Season 6.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I'm just borrowing them because Season 6 angst is running high, and I want my happy ending now, dammit! So I'm writing it … but it'll be awhile until I get to that part, so bear with me (or "bare" with me if you're naughty).
Rating: PG-13
Notes: For the purpose of this story, all events of Tabula Rasa took place exactly as shown in the series; however, no subsequent episodes will affect this piece. We're splitting from canon here, because this seems the fastest way to get a reconciliation and because I feel this is one of the possible outcomes when taking the "addiction" metaphor into account. So, I should shut the heck up now, and just get to the story, right? Right.
Answering Darkness Part 31
Research
By Sassette
Willow walked gingerly down the stairs, shivering slightly, an old pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt hanging loosely on her small frame. She had stayed in the shower, washing away the darkness until long after the water had turned cold.
“I don’t know Latin,” Dawn’s tremulous voice drifted up to her.
“We’ll find what we need,” she heard Buffy’s voice answer firmly.
She entered the living room, surprised to see the transformation. Gone were Buffy’s papers, and instead, huge stacks of books from the magic shop covered the table. Her laptop was open in front of Dawn.
“Dawnie?” Willow said in a soft voice. “My laptop?”
“Oh, I –“ Dawn said, a guilty look crossing her features. “We … we needed to find some things, on the internet. I, uh… I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“Oh, of course,” Willow said, nodding. “I don’t mind. I mean, I prefer to be asked first, but … y’know, I was all in the shower and stuff. I guess you can’t be expected to walk on in, huh?” she finished weakly, moving to sit on the couch.
Buffy grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch, wordlessly wrapping it around her shivering friend.
“How are you feeling?” she asked softly.
“Better,” Willow said with a small smile. “All squeaky-clean.”
“I’ll, uhh … I’ll just … get more coffee,” Dawn said, rushing from the room. Only then did Willow notice the two steaming cups sitting on the table.
“You’re letting Dawn drink coffee?” Willow asked incredulously.
“Well, we’ve got lots of research to do,” Buffy defended herself. “And we need all the help we can get. Xander’s on the way over,” she added needlessly.
“Well, I didn’t think he’d be anywhere else,” Willow said. “Hell God and all – that’s a job for the Scooby Gang.”
“Right,” Buffy said, unable to bring herself to laugh at Willow’s joke, the sick knowledge of what could happen to Willow sitting heavily in her stomach. While Willow had been in the shower, she had called Tara, and she had no idea how she was faring. Anya had said they were two days out, but Buffy had no idea how Willow’s condition would progress, and even if she’d be coherent in two days time.
“Buffy, I’m … I’m sorry,” Willow said miserably, sniffing. “I never meant to-“
“I know, Will,” Buffy said, reaching out and squeezing her hand.
“Buffy? Is something wrong?” Willow asked slowly, a little frown on her face. “I mean, other than the stuff I already know about? Because you look like …” Willow said, trailing off, only to start up again in a panicked voice. “Buffy, what aren’t you telling me? Did you get a phone call? Is Tara all right? Nothing happened at her father’s house, did it?”
“No, Tara’s fine,” Buffy assured her. “Actually, I’m … really worried about you,” Buffy said.
“Yeah, I’m a little worried about me, too,” Willow admitted. “This is … really hard.”
“It’s … everything’s worse than we thought,” Buffy said carefully. “Willow,” she went on, taking Willow’s hand, her voice unusually serious, causing Willow’s worry to jump several notches. “The Dark Magick that’s inside you? It’s … it’s basically poisoning you. If it builds up too much and takes over your blood, you could –“ she said, her voice cracking and then she stopped, unable to get the word past the tightness in her throat.
“I could die, couldn’t I?” Willow asked softly, her eyes wide.
“God, Willow, I’m so … sorry,” Buffy said, the words sounding empty and hollow in her ears.
“Exactly how does that work?” Willow asked calmly.
“The Trickster keeps sending you the magick,” Buffy answered starkly, her voice sounding raw and troubled. “It’s building up inside you, which is why it’s trying so hard to get out. It’s why you feel so bad right now. It – the magick is going to eventually take over your blood.”
“I –“ Willow said, only to stop as she tried to digest the information. Her immediate thoughts all circled around Tara. How would she take it? Would she be okay once Willow was gone? Did she even know? Ruthlessly, she pushed the thoughts aside as tears welled up in her eyes. “I guess we got lots of work to do, then, huh?” Willow asked, all color draining from her face as she moved into the chair Dawn had vacated and pulled the laptop towards her. “We have to figure out exactly what my connection to the Hell God is, what exactly he needs me for, and those should give us some clues on how to stop him from pumping Dark Magick into me.”
Willow hunched over the keyboard, her fingers flying, every now and again moving the mouse around and clicking, seemingly at random. Buffy watched for a moment, seeing the dawning horror and panic starting to creep across Willow’s face.
“Willow, you need to rest,” Buffy said, leveling a stare at the redhead.
“Rest? How the hell am I supposed to rest right now, Buffy?” Willow demanded, looking up at her with a fierce look on her face. “I need to not think about it right now, and in order to not think about it, I need to be busy. Because if I think about it, I’m going to …” she went on, her face crumbling. Tara’s face swam before her eyes, and she realized that all she wanted to do was crawl into her arms where she knew she’d be safe. She choked back a sob, shaking off the thoughts, clenching her jaw and going determinedly back to the research and ignoring the worried looks Buffy kept sending her way.
“I have coffee,” Dawn said, entering the room slowly, a tray in her hands.
“Did you make me some?” Willow asked, her voice hoarse.
“Of course I did,” Dawn said. “And I … I kinda’, umm,” she said slowly, suddenly unsure as to whether or not her plan had been a good idea. “Yours might taste kind of funny,” she confessed, looking over at Willow. “I put … I put some of that baking soda in with the sugar, so … I figured if you could kinda’ … take out some of the dark stuff in your tummy, it might slow it down. From the inside.”
“That’s … that’s a good idea, Dawn,” Willow said. “That could help,” Willow said with a small smile as a relieved look crossed Dawn’s face.
“I … I had to do something,” Dawn said weakly. “We can’t lose you.” Tears welled up in Dawn's eyes, and Willow immediately felt the need to reassure the scared teenager.
“You won’t lose me, Dawn,” Willow said fiercely, resolve face firmly in place. “I have no intention of leaving any of you.”
A relieved look crossed Dawn’s face. “Really?” she asked, handing over the cup of coffee and wanting so badly to believe Willow's words.
“Really,” Willow assured, taking the cup, then squeezing Dawn’s hand.
“And the donut man approacheth,” Xander said, walking into the house with a big box of donuts in his hand. He set the donuts on the table, immediately pulling Willow out of her chair and into a hug. “How are you holding up, Wills?” he asked softly.
Willow leaned into him, returning the hug for a moment before pulling back. “Y’know … another day on the Hellmouth,” she said lightly. “If one of use weren’t in mortal peril, it wouldn’t quite be the same.”
“That’s not funny, Will,” Xander said with a frown.
“I know it’s not,” Willow snapped, her eyes flashing. “I’m … I’m sorry,” she said, sitting back down heavily. “I just –“
“It’s okay. I understand,” Xander said, hunkering down next to her and patting her arm awkwardly. “So,” he said, looking around the room. “Another Scooby all-nighter?”
“I’ll get you some coffee,” Dawn said, standing up and heading back into the kitchen.
Effectively dismissing her friends, unable to deal with the fear in their eyes, Willow turned back to her computer. Dawn had several files open that she had never seen before, but they were certainly informative.
“Dawn?” she called out.
“Yeah?” Dawn called back from the kitchen.
“Where did these files come from?” she asked curiously.
“Giles sent them from the council,” Dawn answered back.
“Giles used the ‘infernal machine’ and emailed me some files?” Willow muttered incredulously. “This really >is< the Apocalypse.”
“Actually, he didn’t send them,” Buffy said, looking up from her book. “Apparently, he’s on a team of Council ‘rejects’ … they get all the crap jobs. They consider Giles to be ‘unconventional’ and he’s their hero,” she went on wryly.
“Giles is unconventional?” Xander asked with a smirk. “Who knew our stodgy watcher-man was such a rebel?”
“Anyway, one of the guys on the team is some kind of computer-guy, which is why the Council really doesn’t like him. That whole team is working on this, getting information and trying to decipher those prophecies. This guy will email updates whenever they have them,” Buffy said, finishing explaining.
“Cool,” Willow said absently, scrolling through the documents, translating the Latin in her head as she went.
She clicked open her email, seeing a message that had been read already, sent from England. She opened the message, hoping the actual email message had more information about what was in the documents.
Willow,
I’m having one of my colleagues send you information on this infernal machine. It seems more efficient than letting you write things out longhand when I call; however, I will still call every time I send information to get an update on the happenings in Sunnydale, and to confirm that you receive these files. Included is the full text of the prophecy we’re working on now, several documents relating to The Trickster, as well as a compilation of first-hand accounts of mystical events that may have included The Trickster.
-Giles
“Ah … so that’s what I’m looking at,” Willow mumbled, clicking back to the documents. “Now,” she said louder. “We think this witch who defeated The Trickster was related to me, right?”
“Right,” Buffy confirmed with a nod. “That’s our current working theory.”
Willow nodded, then turned back to her computer, opening up the files she had on her own genealogy. It had been a project she was working on, but had shelved several times over the last few years, what with Scooby things and school, then the responsibilities of taking care of Dawn and the Scooby Gang after Buffy’s death. Would her passing leave a hole like that?
Determinedly, she pushed the thoughts away, going back to her research. It should be easy enough, really, with the groundwork she already had, to trace her line back through the women in her family, and see what she found.
Willow lost herself in her task, finding that the work allowed her to focus on something other than the startling revelations of the day and Tara’s aching absence. The Scoobies worked around her in silence, for once the loud complaints and the jokes gone.
“I think I found something,” Xander said, surprise evident in his voice.
“What do you have?” Buffy asked, looking up sharply from her book, which was a big bust. Everyone stopped, and Xander gulped as all eyes focused on him.
“Oddly enough, I think it’s about Angel,” he said with a frown. “It … it kinda’ fits, y’know?”
“What is it?” Dawn pressed.
“Well, it talks about the three Hell Gods. The Trickster, The Beast, and The Scales.”
“The Scales?” Buffy asked with a frown. “That’s a pretty lame name for a Hell God. I think I’d be all pissed off if I were that one.”
“It’s about what function they serve. The Beast, Glory, was all about rage and fear ... primal-type stuff," he said slowly. "The Trickster is all reason and logic and cunning. Nasty guy, though. The Scales ... is kinda' ... not a guy OR a girl ... but something else."
"A hermaphroditic Hell God?" Willow asked, a confused look on her face.
"Right," Xander said with a nod. "Anyway, The Scales is just that ... the balance between The Beast and The Trickster. Anyway, The Trickster ... well, tricked The Scales into helping him banish Glory, which is why she was here."
"So how does Angel tie into this?" Buffy asked quietly.
"Well, they kinda' list a few of each Hell God's accomplishments, showing how they can influence things here, even when they're in Hell. The Trickster, apparently, supplied the big Dark Magick juice needed to curse Angel with his soul in the first place. At least, that's what I'm guessing. The details are vague here, but the timeline is right," Xander said, handing the book over to Willow.
Willow read in silence, looking over the passage Xander indicated, nodding as she read.
"But why would a bad guy make a good vampire?" Dawn asked.
"Because it's a curse," Willow said hollowly, looking up with haunted eyes. "That spell doomed Angel to an eternity of torment - a past that haunted him that he could never atone for. And I did the same thing to him," she said starkly.
“Willow – you did what you had to do,” Buffy said gently. “You didn’t do it to send him into torment … you did it to keep him from hurting people. To keep me from hurting by having to kill him.”
“Yeah, and that worked out so well,” Willow said bitterly. “You had to kill him anyway, only you had to look him in the eye, knowing he had his soul back.”
“That’s …” Buffy said, her heart clenching as she remembered that moment with stark clarity. “That’s not the point, Willow. You did it for all the right reasons.”
“I did it because I could,” Willow shot back. “I wanted to prove something to myself – that I was powerful enough to do it. But I wasn’t,” she said.
“The spell worked,” Xander puzzled out. “Of course you were powerful enough.”
“No,” Willow said with a shake of her head. “I … I felt something when I cast, like … some power surging through me. It was … euphoric. And then it was gone, and I felt so empty. That was him – The Trickster. That’s when I opened the door and let him in, because I was too sure I knew what I was doing, and I didn’t stop and think of the consequences.”
“Oh my God,” Xander breathed. “That long ago?” he asked, his voice squeaking.
Willow just nodded, a look of pure misery on her face. “It had to have been. He needed time to make his connection to me this strong, right? And he supplied the power for the original curse. It only makes sense that he would be paying attention when someone tried the curse again.”
“So if he started his big Hell God plan way back then, what else has he been doing?” Buffy wondered aloud, the words falling heavily into the room.
“I – I don’t know,” Willow said softly. “It could be anything, and we wouldn’t know. We’d have no way of knowing what bad things happened that were just us, or were helped along by him.”
“Okay, The Trickster no longer seems all court-jester-y,” Xander said with a frown. “His creepiness factor is steadily climbing.”
“I’ll … I’ll be right back,” Willow said, standing up and leaving the room. She grabbed the phone and the rolodex, making her way into the kitchen and dialing. She paused, listening to the phone ring before it was picked up.
“Anya?” she said quietly. “It’s Willow, but don’t tell Tara I’m on the phone.”
In the other room, Xander said softly enough to not be overheard, “Buffy, this is really freaking me out. Willow’s taking this whole thing a little too calmly.”
“Just … I just need to know how she is,” Willow whispered brokenly into the phone. “Tell me she’s okay.”
“I know,” Buffy whispered back to Xander. “I think … it’s probably going to hit her all at once. And Willow snapping into a million pieces is not something I care to see.”
“Thank you, Anya,” Willow said, her voice grateful as tears welled up in her eyes. “I know you and I haven’t really gotten along, but take care of her for me, okay? In case something happens before you get here. Make sure she’s all right. She’s always liked you, and she’ll need a friend.”
“I just wish Tara were here,” Xander whispered back, turning to his book when Willow walked back into the room, wiping tears from her eyes as surreptitiously as possible and going back to her seat.
“I need more information,” Willow said quickly, turning back to her research with a manic intensity that garnered worried looks from all the Scoobies present. “I have to know … what happened before and … I have to know.”
She continued muttering, occasionally taking notes, as she continued tracing her genealogy. The Scoobies exchanged worried glances before turning back to their own books, determined to find a way to save Willow.
Willow frowned at her computer, having traced her ancestry back several generations to Scotland. As far as she knew, it was the only scrap of blood in her that came from that area, but it followed the female line back, and it was the right culture to have standing stones, so she felt she was on the right track. As encouraging as this was, it was eminently frustrating that she couldn’t find anything further back than the woman who had come to America, and there was no evidence to suggest she had practiced magick of any kind.
With a sigh, she shot off an email to Giles’ computer guy, filling him in on what she knew so far. It may have been a bust from her point of view, but since the Council was in England anyway, she figured they should have better records than she could get over the internet.
She really had to find the time to finish writing her Latin translation program, she mused idly as she switched over to the crazed ramblings of a madmen – a prophet whose words seemed to be about The Trickster and his rise to power. A sinking feeling in her gut reminded her that she just might be out of time – that she might never finish the program. Or college. Never get back together with Tara. Never travel. There were so many books she hadn’t read, and so many places she hadn’t seen. So many things she had never bothered to learn.
She continued reading through her tears, unable to make heads or tails of the document in front of her. It clearly made no sense, and while she might be able to figure it all out if she had a few months to study it, she was certainly no expert when it came to that sort of thing.
With another frown, she changed documents again, reading over their information on The Trickster. Her frown deepened the further she read. Where Glory was short-sighted and self-centered, The Trickster was calculating and philanthropic in a twisted Hell God kind of way. He saw humanity as a bunch of childish powerless Glory’s … and as such, his goals seemed to center around leading humanity to a maturity of pure cold reason, untempered by compassion or altruism. Willow shivered as she read, finding that while the world wouldn’t end if The Trickster made his way out of Hell, all of humanity would be subjugated to his will and pressed into worship.
Engrossed in her work, she blocked out the sound of conversation around her, until a round of mocking laughter echoed around the room. She looked up, listening to Dawn and Buffy and Xander talking about how worthless she was – how glad they were that she was going to die. She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes tight, tears streaming down her face as each word seemed to stab her through the heart.
In the silent room, each of the Scoobies heard Willow make a noise like a wounded animal, the sound startling them out of their reading. Each looked up to see Willow crying quietly, silent sobs shaking her shoulders.
“Willow?” Buffy asked uncertainly, starting to rise as Dawn rushed to her side.
“Willow,” Dawn said, reaching out, only to see Willow flinch away as if she sensed the movement without the benefit of sight.
Xander looked on helplessly as Willow seemed to curl in on herself, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, her head bending down. She rocked forward and back slowly, a strange keening sound punctuated by sobs filling the room.
“What do we do?” Dawn asked, afraid to reach out again.
“I don’t know,” Xander said, moving closer to Willow, but keeping his distance enough that he didn’t startle her.
Willow heard each word, each taunt and jab shaking her to the core. She deserved this. She had brought all of this on herself with her own insecurities. But they were deserved insecurities – her friends weren’t really her friends. They only cared as long as she was useful. Now, she was useless and dying and they were stuck with her, just waiting for her to stop … being.
“No,” Willow moaned, hugging her knees tighter. “No …” she said again on a choked whisper. The loved her. She knew it. This was a trick. It was all a trick.
No, their friendship and love had been the trick. Now she was seeing the truth. The truth was, none of them had ever loved her. Not Xander, not Oz … and not Tara.
“No,” Willow said again, her heart breaking in two. Tara loved her. She knew it. She was rushing home to be with her – Anya had said so.
And then it was clear. Tara did love her. When she didn’t know what was real, when she had nothing left to hold onto, she knew this to the very core of her being. Tara loved her. They might not be together right now, but that parting had hurt Tara every bit as much as it had hurt her. Tara loved her.
The shaking subsided, as did the voices, and after a long moment, Willow was able to raise her head and wipe at her eyes.
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, looking at the concerned – and loving – faces of her friends. Her family. “It – kinda’ got intense there for a minute.”
“Here,” Dawn said, handing over the long-forgotten and cold coffee.
“Thanks,” Willow said, gingerly taking the cup, then downing the liquid quickly.
She gasped, pain ripping through her stomach. Xander rushed to her side as she doubled over, crossing her arms over her belly and grimacing. Her contents of her stomach roiled, and then it subsided. With a few shaky breaths, she extricated herself from Xander’s arms and sat up, noticing immediately that she felt … lighter … freer … than she had in days.
“That was … whoah,” she said slowly.
“I-I’m sorry,” Dawn said, a stricken look on her face. “I didn’t know it … I didn’t know,” she said.
“No, it’s okay,” Willow said quickly. “I feel … I mean, it hurt for a bit, but … I feel so much better,” she reassured the girl. “It’s … it’s really strange.”
“But I should have realized,” Dawn went on. “I mean, it made that weird hissing sound in the bucket.”
“I didn’t think of that, either,” Willow said.
“But you’re okay?” Buffy asked from Willow’s side, surprising Willow. She hadn’t noticed Buffy move.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Willow said. “I … I think we better get back to the research.”
They all nodded, moving back to their study spots and picking up their books.
“Knock knock,” Spike said, opening the door of the Summers home and sauntering in. His coat was closed up, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Buffy said wryly.
“Funny you should mention that,” Spike said with a grin. “Because I was just playing poker with me mates.”
“Oh, God … with the betting of the kittens?” Buffy said with a groan.
“Kittens?” Willow asked, horrified. “You bet kittens?” A flash of sadness hit her as she remembered her beloved Miss Kitty Fantastico, who had disappeared that summer. A suspicious look crossed her face as she glared at Spike, until she remembered that Miss Kitty wouldn’t have qualified as a ‘kitten’ at the time. Still … “You … you have to bet kittens, though, right?” she asked weakly. “No cats?”
“That’s right,” Spike confirmed, nodding. “However, it seems some temporal demon was cheating … out stealing cats, making them kittens again,” he said, pursing his lips. “Doesn’t change anything, or hurt the kitties, but still … it’s just not done, y’know?”
“How’d you find that out?” Buffy asked, wondering what Spike’s point was.
“Well, I recognized this one,” Spike said, moving one arm and gingerly unfastening to front of his coat, revealing a small bundle of fur. “Took me awhile to win her back, but …” he said with a shrug, gently handing the kitten to Willow, who mewed happily as if recognizing one of her mommy’s and settling in her lap.
“Miss Kitty?” Willow gasped, tears stinging her eyes. “I …” She hugged the kitten to her, rubbing her cheek against the soft fur and listening to her purr. “Oh, Miss Kitty,” she said, holding her away to check her over for any hurts. Finding none, she gave a relieved sigh, then let the kitten settle in her lap, laughing through her tears at her little kitty yawn as she settled in for a nap. “Thank you, Spike,” she said, looking up at the vampire, then promptly bursting into tears.
“Hey, now,” Spike said, a troubled look on his face. “No crying, all right? I hate seeing women cry,” he muttered.
“It’s … complicated,” Buffy said slowly, watching Willow cuddle the kitten and give vent to her fear and anger at her situation. “She … really needs this,” she whispered, pulling Spike into the kitchen and motioning everyone to follow her.
“What the bloody hell is going on?” Spike asked angrily. “I show up with her lost kitten … and let me tell you, both Red and Blondie >sobbed< when that little bugger left, and now she’s bawling?”
“She’s dying, Spike,” Buffy said bluntly.
“What?” he asked incredulously.
“She’s … the Dark Magick is killing her. She can’t cast spells, so she can’t get rid of it. It’s building up,” she explained quickly.
“Oh, God … does Tara know?” he asked, frowning.
Buffy nodded, her eyes filling up with tears. “But Willow’s been kind of … she … it’s like it hadn’t hit her yet. I think seeing Miss Kitty made it all sink in.”
“So we’re just standing her in the kitchen while Red sobs her heart out?” Spike asked slowly. “I mean, I’m evil … what’s your excuse for being heartless?”
“Hey!” Xander said, offended.
“Especially you, you wanker,” Spike said acidly. “Known her since she was five? Gonna’ watch her die.”
“I think she just needs some time alone,” Buffy said, holding Xander back as he tried to get at Spike. “We’re not being heartless,” she snapped. “I just … I don’t think … I don’t think Willow would really let herself cry like she needs to in front of us. She’s always been the strong one.”
“Right – the Scooby Rock,” Spike said, his lips pursed. “And her rock is off haring after her mother’s things.”
“Tara’s on her way back, though,” Buffy confirmed.
“So how do we save Red?” Spike asked, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin, expecting Buffy and Xander to protest his involvement.
“Why would you want to help?” Buffy asked, unable to stop the question. “Honestly – you hate us. Why would you want to help?”
Spike took Buffy’s arm gently, pulling her aside. “I have my reasons,” he said in a hushed tone. “I may be an evil bastard, but I pay my debts. Willow gave the group a direction when you were gone … without her and Dawn, I wouldn’t have had a reason to get out of my crypt in the evening. She kept everyone going, and though it pains me to admit it, that includes me. So I owe her.”
“That just may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said,” Buffy said softly.
“Don’t get used to it,” Spike said petulantly. “I’m still evil.”
“You’re the Diet Coke of Evil,” Buffy said with a smirk.
“You take that back! Right now,” Spike insisted.
“Or what?” Buffy shot back. “You’ll glare me to death?”
“Fine,” Spike said tersely. “So how do we help Red?”
“We hit the books,” Buffy said. “Think you can handle sitting still long enough?”
“Whatever it takes.”
Buffy just nodded to Spike, then the others, motioning towards the door with her head. They walked quietly back into the living room, seeing Willow curled up in the chair, Miss Kitty cradled against her chest. Her face was red and puffy from crying as she held the phone and awkwardly dialed with the same hand.
Willow lifted the phone to her ear, sniffling softly. A voice answered, and Willow froze, her eyes going wide. The Scoobies looked on, their concern rising as Willow continued to hold the phone to her ear, her jaw slightly open.
“Tara?” Willow whispered raggedly.
------------------
Caitlin,there are only 3 things that matter...
People you Love,
your Memories,
and Sadness.
fiat justitia,ruat caelum.
IP: Logged
posted February 22, 2002 17:06 This is so exciting...Spike? Not an altruistic bone in his unDead body...Right !------------------
Caitlin,there are only 3 things that matter...
People you Love,
your Memories,
and Sadness.
fiat justitia,ruat caelum.
IP: LoggedSheilaDoll's Eye Crystal I couldn't wait for another chapter, so last night I read it all over again... then you give us this emotional chapter today... life is good. ;-)
IP: Logged
posted February 22, 2002 18:41 I'm loving this story! Really great work. :-)I couldn't wait for another chapter, so last night I read it all over again... then you give us this emotional chapter today... life is good. ;-)
IP: LoggedScoutBig Pineapple This update had so much good stuff: Miss Kitty returning home, Willow trying to deal with the news of her death, Willow beating back the Trickster with her thoughts of Tara, Spike showing concern for Red.
And that cliffhanger was dirty. I hope you plan on another update soon because I’m on the edge of my seat. Fantastic stuff!
IP: Logged
posted February 22, 2002 19:20 Hugs and kitties...*sigh*...I didn’t realize that line was foreshadowing, Sass.This update had so much good stuff: Miss Kitty returning home, Willow trying to deal with the news of her death, Willow beating back the Trickster with her thoughts of Tara, Spike showing concern for Red.
And that cliffhanger was dirty. I hope you plan on another update soon because I’m on the edge of my seat. Fantastic stuff!
IP: LoggedWiccansIllusionCool Monster Fighter IP: Logged
posted February 22, 2002 20:30 Yeah Miss Kitty. Incredible update Sass as always, And I feel the withdrawl ebbing a little Keep it up!IP: LoggedFrenchRoseCool Monster Fighter Loving this more and more, and that's saying something,cause I ealy really loved it from the beginning...
Oh, and to add something to Scout's little scenario...you'd be evil if you let them in the desert with no phone,no car, and Anya broke her leg and it got infected and Tara had to cut her leg to save her but all she has is that little pocket-knife... all that with Anya learning the Box had been looted.. and PMS-ing.
Now, that'd be more than semi-evil,that's be downright weevil.
FrenchRose
IP: Logged
posted February 22, 2002 21:03 Diet-Coke of Evil*snort*Loving this more and more, and that's saying something,cause I ealy really loved it from the beginning...
Oh, and to add something to Scout's little scenario...you'd be evil if you let them in the desert with no phone,no car, and Anya broke her leg and it got infected and Tara had to cut her leg to save her but all she has is that little pocket-knife... all that with Anya learning the Box had been looted.. and PMS-ing.
Now, that'd be more than semi-evil,that's be downright weevil.
FrenchRose
IP: LoggedWeb WarlockSassy Eggs Can't wait to see where this is going.
Diet Coke of evil!
Warlock
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Web Warlock
web.warlock@attbi.com webwarlock@planetadnd.com
Author, the Netbooks of Witches and Warlocks
The Other Side: http://www.xtreme-gaming.com/theotherside/
Shadow Earth Games: http://www.rpghost.com/WebWarlock/
The FanCC: http://www.enworld.org/fancc/
--
"What the hell is your problem?" - Ozzy Osbourne to me, Feb. 1996
IP: Logged
posted February 22, 2002 22:41 I am enjoying this.Can't wait to see where this is going.
Diet Coke of evil!
Warlock
------------------
Web Warlock
web.warlock@attbi.com webwarlock@planetadnd.com
Author, the Netbooks of Witches and Warlocks
The Other Side: http://www.xtreme-gaming.com/theotherside/
Shadow Earth Games: http://www.rpghost.com/WebWarlock/
The FanCC: http://www.enworld.org/fancc/
--
"What the hell is your problem?" - Ozzy Osbourne to me, Feb. 1996
More please
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'The cold and ruthless sea tossed the lovers' into the starry black night. together they fall, together they sleep. forever.. forever.. *whisper*forever..the cold and ruthless sea...' By Sweets
IP: Logged
posted February 22, 2002 23:14 Can I say wow again? because that update was well wowMore please
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'The cold and ruthless sea tossed the lovers' into the starry black night. together they fall, together they sleep. forever.. forever.. *whisper*forever..the cold and ruthless sea...' By Sweets
IP: Logged
posted February 22, 2002 23:39 *sniffle....Thud*IP: LoggedSassetteCool Monster Fighter But first ... my comments on the comments.
**'lucy' - Spike lives by his own rules. He's a complicated kind of guy. Err ... blood-sucking fiend. Err ... guy.
**Sheila - you re-read the whole thing!?!? Holy Schnikeys! I'm WAY flattered that anyone would want to sit through this pain-fest twice.
**Scout - Hugs and Kitties ... *G* Told you I liked 'em. Though I'm surprised no one has mentioned the whole 'The Trickster has been Willow's source since she restored Angel's soul' thing ... did I already reveal that (because I'm too damn tired to go back and read my own fic), or did I manage to gloss over it with the other stuff in that update? As for the cliffhangers - I'm a feedback whore, and I get more responses this way
**W.I. - Here's your smack. Now go play in the street *G*
**FrenchRose - You're right. That >would< be more evil. So, clearly, it's EXACTLY what I should do. More response to that IN the actual text of the update *G* And the 'Diet Coke of Evil' ... has a more perfect phrase ever been uttered? I flippin' love that line.
**Web Warlock - It was >nice< of me to ratchet up the angst? Then I should be canonized for what I'll be doing later.
**Puff - Another 'wow'? Gosh ... And yes, here's more. Just for you
**Pixie - *runs over and gives mouth to mouth resuscitation* You gotta' wake up for the next update!
And now ... the update ... and we'll see if the damn thing will fit in one post with these comments: as it turns out - nope! Sorry for the double-post.
Title: Answering Darkness Part 32 - On the Road Again
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to pink_overalls@yahoo.com
Summary: Anya's cell phone dies, and Spike's car breaks down, stranding the girls on the side of the highway. No, not really - just wondering if anyone reads these summaries. Let's just summarize this one as 'more angst', okay?
Spoiler Warning: Up to and including "Tabula Rasa" in Season 6.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I'm just borrowing them because Season 6 angst is running high, and I want my happy ending now, dammit! So I'm writing it … but it'll be awhile until I get to that part, so bear with me (or "bare" with me if you're naughty).
Rating: PG-13
Notes: For the purpose of this story, all events of Tabula Rasa took place exactly as shown in the series; however, no subsequent episodes will affect this piece. We're splitting from canon here - this was MEANT to be a quick and easy reconciliation fic … but it just didn't turn out that way. Stupid Hell God … Stupid Plot … getting in the way of my snugglies, damnit. Freakin' Angst. Grrrr.
Answering Darkness Part 32
On the Road Again
By Sassette
Tara didn't know what to think, or what to feel, so she just drove. A numbness, startling in its totality, stole over her mind and heart, until she was nothing more than the person operating the machine that would take her closer to her goal. She tried not to think about where she was going and why, because probing that topic caused instant pain so sharp and deep it physically took her breath away.
So she drove on, having no idea how long they had been on the road already that day. She thought hard about the highway, keeping her inner voice quiet … thinking about the road and the lines, and those little reflect-y bumpy things. The hum of the engine, and the slightly static-y feel of the radio - there was nothing else - could be nothing else, without intense, searing pain.
The phone ringing distracted her momentarily, Anya answering it. Anya paused a moment, her gaze shifting over to Tara, then responded to whoever was on the line. "Hi, Xander. Tara's doing okay. We're coming back to Sunnydale as fast as we can."
But that wasn't quite true, Tara thought idly, glancing at the speedometer. Eighty. She let her foot fall a little heavier on the gas pedal. Ninety. She pressed harder. A hundred. She spared a moment to pray that there would be no cops on the road she took back to Sunnydale.
"Of course. Tara's my friend," Anya said, her face shifting subtly in a brief look of pain before she carefully composed her features, trying not to betray the true nature of her conversation. "I consider Willow and Tara both to be my friends. And you take care of Willow, you hear me? You make sure she's fine when we get there. Tara needs her."
Anya hung the phone up silently, nodding with satisfaction as she saw that Tara was moving at a much faster clip. The phone call from Willow had shaken her, making her realize exactly how much the Scoobies stood to lose, should anything happen to the redhead.
"That was Xander," Anya said, wondering if lying to her friend was really as bad as everyone told her it was. Surely, in this situation, when Willow had specifically asked that she not let on that it was her, it was okay?
"I figured," Tara said, her eyes trained straight ahead as they practically flew down the road. Anya looked out the window dejectedly, casting about for something - anything - to say to Tara.
"Say something," Anya finally demanded. "Anything at all. But please, stop just sitting there looking like
she's already gone, because it's unnerving."
"I … I can't," Tara said, her voice raw. "I can't talk right now, Anya."
"Then listen. Did I ever tell you about the time Xander got syphilis?" Anya asked brightly.
"What?" Tara asked, shocked out of her stupor, pathetically grateful for the distraction. "Xander
has syphilis?"
"Oh, no … he only had it temporarily. For about 24 hours, tops?" Anya explained.
"How do you get temporary 24-hour syphilis?" Tara wondered aloud. "That's … that's not possible, is
it?"
"Of course it isn't. But it was a Hellmouth thing," Anya said breezily.
"Ahh … of course," Tara said, nodding in understanding. "But … how does someone get temporary
24-hour syphilis from the Hellmouth?"
"Well, be quiet, and I'll tell you," Anya said with a laugh. "There we were, Buffy and Willow and I … at
the dedication for the knew cultural center at the college."
"Oh, I remember that - didn't they uncover the old Sunnydale Mission during the groundbreaking?" Tara
interrupted.
"That's right. Only, it was more like, Xander uncovered the old Sunnydale Mission during the groundbreaking. He was there with his construction crew, digging. In a tank top. Mmm…" Anya trailed
off, a wicked gleam in her eye. "All … sweaty, and …"
"I get the picture," Tara interrupted, heading off Anya's lust-filled haze in an attempt to get her back
on-topic.
"Oh, right. Well, there he was digging, and then the ground gave way, and he fell into the mission," Anya
said.
"He was the one who fell in? I remember reading about that in the school newspaper," Tara recalled.
"MmmHmm," Anya confirmed. "So, as it turns out, he accidentally unleashed the vengeful power of the
Shumash Tribe. Their 'Justice Spirit' arose, duplicating the horrors they had suffered at the hands of the people colonizing the area."
"But revenge isn't … nice," Tara said with a frown.
"Well, no," Anya hedged, inexplicably feeling a little hurt at Tara's assessment of what had, in effect, been
her profession for a thousand years. "But it's fair. It's always fair," she said. "Except that they hurt Xander," she added with a frown. "I didn't like that part at all. But when they killed the lady in charge
of the cultural center and cut off her ear, and when they hung the priest … that was almost … poetic."
"The spirit did what?" Tara asked.
"Oh, well, some of the tribesman were hung, so the spirit duplicated that. And there was a bounty out on
them … an ear was brought back to prove a kill, so they killed the teacher in charge of the cultural center and cut off her ear," Anya said. "Of course, Willow wanted to find a way of banishing the spirit, or appeasing it, without anymore killing. She figured that was only fair, because they honestly had suffered
so much. Giles was totally against that. It was a spirit that was hurting people, and he wanted it to stop immediately, no matter what they had to do."
"So who won that fight?" Tara asked curiously. She could, in all honesty, see both sides of that argument
as having valid points, though she tended to think Willow's take was … nicer.
"Neither, actually. The spirit realized that Buffy was the greatest warrior in Sunnydale, so it got a bunch of its spirit friends and laid siege to Giles' place. At that point, we didn't really have a chance of figuring out how to appease them. It was either kill them or die," Anya said.
"So how does the syphilis tie into this?" Tara asked after a moment.
"Oh, I left that part out!" Anya said quickly. "Part of what happened to the Shumash involved being stuck
in a mission, and left there for all sorts of diseases to spread. Xander got all of them. He was really, really sick. Syphilis was just one of the diseases."
"Wow … that's … really awful," Tara said. "But it turned out okay, right?"
"Right," Anya said with a happy little nod. "Once they killed all the Shumash spirits, everything cleared right up, so Xander's p-"
"I get it," Tara said wryly. "No need to spell it out."
"But, that's sharing, isn't it? Aren't friends supposed to share?" Anya asked, honestly curious.
"Yes, it's sharing, but some details are private, especially when two people are intimate. That sort of thing is just for you and Xander, so you don't need to tell the rest of us. In fact, when those details are a secret just between the two of you, it makes them more special," Tara answered.
"Hmm … I suspected that was the reason," Anya said after a moment. "But I still don't see it. I certainly don't feel sex with Xander is any less special just because I may happen to mention -"
"Playing 'shiver me timbers'?" Tara asked with a grin.
"Exactly!" Anya said excitedly. "So you understand?"
"Oh, yes, I understand," Tara said. "You don't feel bad about sharing these things, and we're your friends, so you share. It makes perfect sense. It's just that because people generally think of these things as being private, we sometimes feel like it's wrong for us to know, y'know?" she said, trying to convey her thoughts on the subject.
"Does it really bother you?" Anya asked, tilting her head to the side and regarding Tara carefully.
"Mostly, I just think it's funny," Tara said with a little smile, her eyes crinkling up at the corners. "I just … don't want to hear the syphilis details, or the post-syphilis all-cleared-up-details," she admitted.
"Deal. But I can still make inappropriate comments at inappropriate times without making you angry, right?" Anya pressed, needing to be reassured that this woman, who was really the best friend she had, wasn't actually offended by her behavior.
"No - that will never make me mad," Tara said.
"So now it's your turn to share details," Anya said eagerly. "Did Willow ever have any funny diseases?" she asked, then went on before Tara could comment. "Of course, the only other person she was ever with
was Oz, and I don't think he ever had anything. Well, except for the lycanthropy, and that can only be
passed through biting. But on the other hand, it's possible he could have bitten her during sex, but she'd be a werewolf now. And if she were a werewolf, she wouldn't have broken up with Oz, because that's why they broke up in the first place. But on the other hand - am I running out of hands? - I think that if Willow had met you while Oz was still in the picture, she still would have chosen you, eventually."
"I … really? You think so?" Tara asked, the warm glow she got at the end of Anya's ramblings making up for the things she had said earlier on. While she certainly didn't want to think of 'Oz', 'biting' and 'sex' at the same time, let alone at the same time as 'Willow', the idea that Willow would have chosen her anyway warmed her all the way through.
"Oh, definitely," Anya said. "It would have been a lot harder for Willow, and she wouldn't have let anything actually happen while she was with Oz, but she would have eventually broken up with him to be
with you."
"I was … I was so surprised when she chose me. Even after everything we had done together, I never thought - I always thought that if Oz came back, or if another boy showed any interest…" Tara said, her voice trailing off as she remembered that magical night when Willow had chosen her.
"So you didn't think Willow was serious about the two of you?" Anya questioned.
"Well, how could I? I mean, we knew each other for such a long time before you all even knew I existed. We started kissing before that, and … I just kind of thought that, well, she liked me well enough, as a person - but I never actually though that she was in love with me. It was … the best surprise of my life,"
Tara said.
"I remember the look on your face when Oz walked in," Anya remembered. "You looked like … you'd had your guts ripped out … and I would know, because I've seen lots of people who'd had their guts ripped out."
"That's what it felt like," Tara said softly. "It was like … I couldn't breathe anymore, and I just … I had
to be anywhere but there. But the worst was when Willow came over before she had made up her mind. We talked, and from the things she said, I was completely sure I was going to lose her. Then she came over
later. It was nighttime, and I was alone, curled up on my bed, just hoping I would fall asleep and the pain would stop for the night, knowing that neither one would happen. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw them together, and I just… I wanted it to stop."
"And then?" Anya asked.
"I heard a knock at the door, so I made my way over. Half-hoping, half-afraid that it was Willow. Certainly, no one else ever came to my room, y'know? But I opened the door, and she was standing there with a lit candle in her hands," Tara reminisced, a faint smile edging her features.
"Candles are very romantic," Anya said knowledgably.
"Mmm," Tara agreed. "So she came in, and I was still sure she was going to break up with me to be with Oz. Not that we were officially together or anything, but still. I felt like she was breaking up with me. But this tiny little glimmer of hope kinda' grew inside me, which, in a way, made me feel worse, because I knew that when she crushed that, I wouldn't have anything left."
"But she didn't, right? I mean, she chose you right then?" Anya asked, unsure of exactly when everything had happened.
"She did," Tara said, a beatific smile lighting up her features. "She tried to explain, and I stammered something about how I understood, and that she needed to be with the one she loved. And then she said that she was, and … I felt my heart stop. And then when it started beating again, I knew in that moment that from that day on, it would beat for her."
"I bet Xander never says those kinds of things about me when I'm not around," Anya muttered quietly enough so as not to break into Tara's story.
"I thought I knew what it was to love her before, but after that moment, I lost every piece of myself. Still, there was a part of me that couldn't believe. So I kinda' said, 'you mean … ?' and I trailed off, chickening out. And she just nodded and said that she did, and then she said she'd make it up to me, starting right then. And then I blew out the candle," Tara said, her eyes aglow with warmth and love.
"And >then< you had sex!" Anya said triumphantly.
"W-we made love, yes," Tara confirmed, a blush crawling up her neck.
"So how was it?" Anya asked eagerly.
"I -" Tara started to say, unsure of whether or not she should even bother answering this question. Would Anya let it go if she said it was none of her business. "It was … amazing," she said with a helpless little shrug. "I mean, neither one of us had any idea what to do … with a woman and all, and … so we just kinda' … took it real slow. All night." Tara's blush grew as she remembered that night, and how shy and tentative they were. Still, it was as though Willow knew just how to touch her, and where, to drive her wild. And Willow had been so responsive, her groans and cute little squeaks filling the room as Tara loved her.
"All night?" Anya squeaked. "Xander can't go all night! That's not fair!"
"Then maybe you should have hooked up with Willow," Tara said with a laugh.
"But I like Xander's penis. Willow doesn't >have< a penis," she complained.
"Well, then it's a trade-off," Tara said with a smirk, even as she thought 'Thank the Goddess.'
"Hmph," Anya said, bouncing against the seat back and crossing her arms. "I want both. I want Xander's penis with Willow's stamina."
Tara blinked once, then blinked again. She chewed the inside of her lip, then bit her tongue. "No comment," she finally said, staring straight ahead at the road.
"What?" Anya demanded, turning in her seat to face the driver. "You have something to say, so out with it!"
"I've forgotten what it was," Tara said airily.
"That's just not fair," Anya whined, her shoulders slumping.
"You're right. It's not," Tara agreed, unwilling to share.
"Fine," Anya said, realizing she was getting nowhere fast. "Now what do we talk about?" she wondered aloud.
"What's with the bunny thing?" Tara finally asked. "Seriously … what's scary about bunnies?"
"What's not scary about bunnies?" Anya asked. "They're truly vicious creatures. You honestly have no idea."
"But that's just it … none of us have any idea. We all think bunnies are cute," Tara said.
"That's because you can't see it. I mean, how can you miss the teeth, and the way they hippity-hop? No natural creature of this world should be able to move like that. They're cunning and mean, and the damage they can do is … unspeakable," Anya finished with a shiver. "And could we not discuss bunnies when driving all alone on a deserted highway at night?" she asked. "This is giving me the creeps. I mean, next thing you know, the car is going to break down, my cell phone battery will die, and we'll be surrounded by desert bunnies bent on destruction. Then I'll be wounded in the leg," she went on, her agitation clearly visible as she squirmed in her seat. "It'll get infected, and you'll have to cut it off, and we only have a pocket knife, and while we're gone, the shop will get broken into, and I'm going to start PMS'ing any day now!"
"Where do you come up with this stuff?" Tara asked, a look of puzzled awe on her face.
"Well, it could happen," Anya said defensively. "And do you see what the bunnies do to me? They instill fear and panic and bizarre scenarios. We just need to add in the Initiative figuring out that I was a demon and deciding to do tests on me and parachuting in a unit, and it will be the worst night of my human life!"
"Okay," Tara said with a puzzled nod. "I can see now how bunnies are clearly evil and dangerous, so let's not speak of such things anymore."
"Good," Anya said.
They drove in silence, distracting thoughts of bunnies only keeping Tara busy for a few more moments before her thoughts turned inevitably to Willow. Sweet, smart, cute, funny Willow, who ran towards danger and forgave betrayals and stood up to mean fathers and brothers, all without knowing the full story. Willow, who loved her, and needed her, and was trying so hard to get clean.
Willow who was dying.
She had avoided the thought, chasing it away when it tried to seep into her brain, but she couldn't fight it off any longer. Willow was dying. Silent tears tracked down her face, even as a fierce resolve filled her.
Willow was dying.
Not if she could help it.
There had to be something - anything - that she could do. She couldn't sit back and watch the love of her life die, no matter what crazy things had come between them. She would defend Willow with her last breath if need be, or storm Hell itself and demand The Trickster let her go.
Her hands tightened on the wheel, until her knuckles glowed white in the night. She wouldn't let it happen. She would stop it. It couldn't happen - it was unthinkable. A world without Willow in it? How could she live in such a world? Why would she want to?
No matter the pain Willow had caused her, no matter the shaky state of their relationship, the fact remained: Willow was a part of her, and she was a part of Willow. If Willow were taken away, she knew that what was left of her wouldn't be worth a thing. Breathing hurt just thinking about it - she couldn't imagine what the actual loss would do to her.
"How fast does this thing go?" she muttered, pressing down harder on the gas. One-ten. One-twenty. The car began to shake a little, but held, and Tara kept it there, tearing through the night as if the denizens of hell were on her heels.
But she was going towards those denizens, because they had their claws in Willow, and she had to stop them.
"Tara?" Anya asked uncertainly, glancing at the speedometer.
"Yes?" Tara said tightly.
"We're, uhh … going kind of fast …" Anya offered up hesitantly.
"I know," Tara said, her face set in determined lines.
"We're not going to stop tonight, are we?" Anya finally asked after a few more minutes of silence, as the miles ticked away.
"No, we're not," Tara confirmed.
Anya merely nodded, letting the seat back and closing her eyes, getting comfortable. "Wake me up in three hours or so," she said calmly. "This road isn't very bendy, so I'll take a turn tonight. If you drive for two days straight, we're not going to make it."
"You can't drive," Tara pointed out, glancing at the ex-demon.
"I've done nothing but watch you drive for about three days," Anya said. "I think I have it figured out. And while I might not feel comfortable driving as fast as you, you can get some sleep, and we'll still be making better time than we would when I insist we stop so you can rest."
"Fine," Tara said tersely. "Three hours."
Anya nodded, satisfied with the response, and let herself drift off into sleep. Tara let the darkness and the quiet settle around her like a comfortable blanket. She needed that … she needed the feeling of solitude to let her emotions have free reign.
Love for Willow was the foremost, and the most familiar. It had been the prevalent feeling in her life for so long, it was like it lived in her skin, or in her very blood. It was as much a part of her as her blue eyes.
Then there was the pain at the thought of losing Willow. That felt different, but familiar. She was used to worrying about Willow - as a Scooby, Willow was constantly exposed to danger. But this - this wasn't the same. That had been a nebulous vague worry. Vampires. Demons. Stubbed toes. She loved Willow, and so she worried. But this - this certainty that, as things stood - unless something was changed - Willow was going to die? That feeling unsettled her, set her teeth on edge, and sent sharp daggers of pain lancing towards her heart.
But it was the anger that she was ashamed of, and why she needed the comfort of solitude. She couldn't let anyone know about the anger. She was so mad - at Willow, at herself, at the whole world - that she didn't know how she was holding back the screams. But she did hold them back. Mustn't wake Anya. Mustn't let her see.
Tara let these feelings roll around inside her as she drove, pushing the car to its limits, she assumed. For all she really knew, this car could do twice this speed, but she couldn't risk it. Her need to be by Willow's side quickly was tempered by her need to arrive in one piece. She certainly couldn't do Willow any good if she managed to get herself killed on the way home.
Though it was the anger that made her ashamed, it was that feeling that scared her - the feeling that it might not be so bad if she died tonight. That way, she wouldn't have to watch as Willow slowly died, day by day, growing weaker and angrier as the Dark Magick seeped into her blood. She wouldn't have to watch those green eyes she loved so much shade to black as Willow fought the urge to just cast one last spell. She wouldn't have to watch Willow take her last shaking breath.
But no - that was the coward's way out. Willow was still alive, and she needed Tara now more than ever. As attractive as the idea was of waiting for Willow to arrive in the afterlife, instead of waiting for Willow to leave in this one, she knew she couldn't do that. She would see Willow again, in this life, and she would fight for her, and as long as there was that last shred of hope, she'd keep fighting. Her heart wouldn't let her do otherwise.
[This message has been edited by Sassette (edited February 23, 2002).]
IP: Logged
posted February 22, 2002 23:53 Okay, you angst fiends ... prepare yourselves. 'Cuz I got a double-dose right here *G*But first ... my comments on the comments.
**'lucy' - Spike lives by his own rules. He's a complicated kind of guy. Err ... blood-sucking fiend. Err ... guy.
**Sheila - you re-read the whole thing!?!? Holy Schnikeys! I'm WAY flattered that anyone would want to sit through this pain-fest twice.
**Scout - Hugs and Kitties ... *G* Told you I liked 'em. Though I'm surprised no one has mentioned the whole 'The Trickster has been Willow's source since she restored Angel's soul' thing ... did I already reveal that (because I'm too damn tired to go back and read my own fic), or did I manage to gloss over it with the other stuff in that update? As for the cliffhangers - I'm a feedback whore, and I get more responses this way
**W.I. - Here's your smack. Now go play in the street *G*
**FrenchRose - You're right. That >would< be more evil. So, clearly, it's EXACTLY what I should do. More response to that IN the actual text of the update *G* And the 'Diet Coke of Evil' ... has a more perfect phrase ever been uttered? I flippin' love that line.
**Web Warlock - It was >nice< of me to ratchet up the angst? Then I should be canonized for what I'll be doing later.
**Puff - Another 'wow'? Gosh ... And yes, here's more. Just for you
**Pixie - *runs over and gives mouth to mouth resuscitation* You gotta' wake up for the next update!
And now ... the update ... and we'll see if the damn thing will fit in one post with these comments: as it turns out - nope! Sorry for the double-post.
Title: Answering Darkness Part 32 - On the Road Again
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to pink_overalls@yahoo.com
Summary: Anya's cell phone dies, and Spike's car breaks down, stranding the girls on the side of the highway. No, not really - just wondering if anyone reads these summaries. Let's just summarize this one as 'more angst', okay?
Spoiler Warning: Up to and including "Tabula Rasa" in Season 6.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I'm just borrowing them because Season 6 angst is running high, and I want my happy ending now, dammit! So I'm writing it … but it'll be awhile until I get to that part, so bear with me (or "bare" with me if you're naughty).
Rating: PG-13
Notes: For the purpose of this story, all events of Tabula Rasa took place exactly as shown in the series; however, no subsequent episodes will affect this piece. We're splitting from canon here - this was MEANT to be a quick and easy reconciliation fic … but it just didn't turn out that way. Stupid Hell God … Stupid Plot … getting in the way of my snugglies, damnit. Freakin' Angst. Grrrr.
Answering Darkness Part 32
On the Road Again
By Sassette
Tara didn't know what to think, or what to feel, so she just drove. A numbness, startling in its totality, stole over her mind and heart, until she was nothing more than the person operating the machine that would take her closer to her goal. She tried not to think about where she was going and why, because probing that topic caused instant pain so sharp and deep it physically took her breath away.
So she drove on, having no idea how long they had been on the road already that day. She thought hard about the highway, keeping her inner voice quiet … thinking about the road and the lines, and those little reflect-y bumpy things. The hum of the engine, and the slightly static-y feel of the radio - there was nothing else - could be nothing else, without intense, searing pain.
The phone ringing distracted her momentarily, Anya answering it. Anya paused a moment, her gaze shifting over to Tara, then responded to whoever was on the line. "Hi, Xander. Tara's doing okay. We're coming back to Sunnydale as fast as we can."
But that wasn't quite true, Tara thought idly, glancing at the speedometer. Eighty. She let her foot fall a little heavier on the gas pedal. Ninety. She pressed harder. A hundred. She spared a moment to pray that there would be no cops on the road she took back to Sunnydale.
"Of course. Tara's my friend," Anya said, her face shifting subtly in a brief look of pain before she carefully composed her features, trying not to betray the true nature of her conversation. "I consider Willow and Tara both to be my friends. And you take care of Willow, you hear me? You make sure she's fine when we get there. Tara needs her."
Anya hung the phone up silently, nodding with satisfaction as she saw that Tara was moving at a much faster clip. The phone call from Willow had shaken her, making her realize exactly how much the Scoobies stood to lose, should anything happen to the redhead.
"That was Xander," Anya said, wondering if lying to her friend was really as bad as everyone told her it was. Surely, in this situation, when Willow had specifically asked that she not let on that it was her, it was okay?
"I figured," Tara said, her eyes trained straight ahead as they practically flew down the road. Anya looked out the window dejectedly, casting about for something - anything - to say to Tara.
"Say something," Anya finally demanded. "Anything at all. But please, stop just sitting there looking like
she's already gone, because it's unnerving."
"I … I can't," Tara said, her voice raw. "I can't talk right now, Anya."
"Then listen. Did I ever tell you about the time Xander got syphilis?" Anya asked brightly.
"What?" Tara asked, shocked out of her stupor, pathetically grateful for the distraction. "Xander
has syphilis?"
"Oh, no … he only had it temporarily. For about 24 hours, tops?" Anya explained.
"How do you get temporary 24-hour syphilis?" Tara wondered aloud. "That's … that's not possible, is
it?"
"Of course it isn't. But it was a Hellmouth thing," Anya said breezily.
"Ahh … of course," Tara said, nodding in understanding. "But … how does someone get temporary
24-hour syphilis from the Hellmouth?"
"Well, be quiet, and I'll tell you," Anya said with a laugh. "There we were, Buffy and Willow and I … at
the dedication for the knew cultural center at the college."
"Oh, I remember that - didn't they uncover the old Sunnydale Mission during the groundbreaking?" Tara
interrupted.
"That's right. Only, it was more like, Xander uncovered the old Sunnydale Mission during the groundbreaking. He was there with his construction crew, digging. In a tank top. Mmm…" Anya trailed
off, a wicked gleam in her eye. "All … sweaty, and …"
"I get the picture," Tara interrupted, heading off Anya's lust-filled haze in an attempt to get her back
on-topic.
"Oh, right. Well, there he was digging, and then the ground gave way, and he fell into the mission," Anya
said.
"He was the one who fell in? I remember reading about that in the school newspaper," Tara recalled.
"MmmHmm," Anya confirmed. "So, as it turns out, he accidentally unleashed the vengeful power of the
Shumash Tribe. Their 'Justice Spirit' arose, duplicating the horrors they had suffered at the hands of the people colonizing the area."
"But revenge isn't … nice," Tara said with a frown.
"Well, no," Anya hedged, inexplicably feeling a little hurt at Tara's assessment of what had, in effect, been
her profession for a thousand years. "But it's fair. It's always fair," she said. "Except that they hurt Xander," she added with a frown. "I didn't like that part at all. But when they killed the lady in charge
of the cultural center and cut off her ear, and when they hung the priest … that was almost … poetic."
"The spirit did what?" Tara asked.
"Oh, well, some of the tribesman were hung, so the spirit duplicated that. And there was a bounty out on
them … an ear was brought back to prove a kill, so they killed the teacher in charge of the cultural center and cut off her ear," Anya said. "Of course, Willow wanted to find a way of banishing the spirit, or appeasing it, without anymore killing. She figured that was only fair, because they honestly had suffered
so much. Giles was totally against that. It was a spirit that was hurting people, and he wanted it to stop immediately, no matter what they had to do."
"So who won that fight?" Tara asked curiously. She could, in all honesty, see both sides of that argument
as having valid points, though she tended to think Willow's take was … nicer.
"Neither, actually. The spirit realized that Buffy was the greatest warrior in Sunnydale, so it got a bunch of its spirit friends and laid siege to Giles' place. At that point, we didn't really have a chance of figuring out how to appease them. It was either kill them or die," Anya said.
"So how does the syphilis tie into this?" Tara asked after a moment.
"Oh, I left that part out!" Anya said quickly. "Part of what happened to the Shumash involved being stuck
in a mission, and left there for all sorts of diseases to spread. Xander got all of them. He was really, really sick. Syphilis was just one of the diseases."
"Wow … that's … really awful," Tara said. "But it turned out okay, right?"
"Right," Anya said with a happy little nod. "Once they killed all the Shumash spirits, everything cleared right up, so Xander's p-"
"I get it," Tara said wryly. "No need to spell it out."
"But, that's sharing, isn't it? Aren't friends supposed to share?" Anya asked, honestly curious.
"Yes, it's sharing, but some details are private, especially when two people are intimate. That sort of thing is just for you and Xander, so you don't need to tell the rest of us. In fact, when those details are a secret just between the two of you, it makes them more special," Tara answered.
"Hmm … I suspected that was the reason," Anya said after a moment. "But I still don't see it. I certainly don't feel sex with Xander is any less special just because I may happen to mention -"
"Playing 'shiver me timbers'?" Tara asked with a grin.
"Exactly!" Anya said excitedly. "So you understand?"
"Oh, yes, I understand," Tara said. "You don't feel bad about sharing these things, and we're your friends, so you share. It makes perfect sense. It's just that because people generally think of these things as being private, we sometimes feel like it's wrong for us to know, y'know?" she said, trying to convey her thoughts on the subject.
"Does it really bother you?" Anya asked, tilting her head to the side and regarding Tara carefully.
"Mostly, I just think it's funny," Tara said with a little smile, her eyes crinkling up at the corners. "I just … don't want to hear the syphilis details, or the post-syphilis all-cleared-up-details," she admitted.
"Deal. But I can still make inappropriate comments at inappropriate times without making you angry, right?" Anya pressed, needing to be reassured that this woman, who was really the best friend she had, wasn't actually offended by her behavior.
"No - that will never make me mad," Tara said.
"So now it's your turn to share details," Anya said eagerly. "Did Willow ever have any funny diseases?" she asked, then went on before Tara could comment. "Of course, the only other person she was ever with
was Oz, and I don't think he ever had anything. Well, except for the lycanthropy, and that can only be
passed through biting. But on the other hand, it's possible he could have bitten her during sex, but she'd be a werewolf now. And if she were a werewolf, she wouldn't have broken up with Oz, because that's why they broke up in the first place. But on the other hand - am I running out of hands? - I think that if Willow had met you while Oz was still in the picture, she still would have chosen you, eventually."
"I … really? You think so?" Tara asked, the warm glow she got at the end of Anya's ramblings making up for the things she had said earlier on. While she certainly didn't want to think of 'Oz', 'biting' and 'sex' at the same time, let alone at the same time as 'Willow', the idea that Willow would have chosen her anyway warmed her all the way through.
"Oh, definitely," Anya said. "It would have been a lot harder for Willow, and she wouldn't have let anything actually happen while she was with Oz, but she would have eventually broken up with him to be
with you."
"I was … I was so surprised when she chose me. Even after everything we had done together, I never thought - I always thought that if Oz came back, or if another boy showed any interest…" Tara said, her voice trailing off as she remembered that magical night when Willow had chosen her.
"So you didn't think Willow was serious about the two of you?" Anya questioned.
"Well, how could I? I mean, we knew each other for such a long time before you all even knew I existed. We started kissing before that, and … I just kind of thought that, well, she liked me well enough, as a person - but I never actually though that she was in love with me. It was … the best surprise of my life,"
Tara said.
"I remember the look on your face when Oz walked in," Anya remembered. "You looked like … you'd had your guts ripped out … and I would know, because I've seen lots of people who'd had their guts ripped out."
"That's what it felt like," Tara said softly. "It was like … I couldn't breathe anymore, and I just … I had
to be anywhere but there. But the worst was when Willow came over before she had made up her mind. We talked, and from the things she said, I was completely sure I was going to lose her. Then she came over
later. It was nighttime, and I was alone, curled up on my bed, just hoping I would fall asleep and the pain would stop for the night, knowing that neither one would happen. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw them together, and I just… I wanted it to stop."
"And then?" Anya asked.
"I heard a knock at the door, so I made my way over. Half-hoping, half-afraid that it was Willow. Certainly, no one else ever came to my room, y'know? But I opened the door, and she was standing there with a lit candle in her hands," Tara reminisced, a faint smile edging her features.
"Candles are very romantic," Anya said knowledgably.
"Mmm," Tara agreed. "So she came in, and I was still sure she was going to break up with me to be with Oz. Not that we were officially together or anything, but still. I felt like she was breaking up with me. But this tiny little glimmer of hope kinda' grew inside me, which, in a way, made me feel worse, because I knew that when she crushed that, I wouldn't have anything left."
"But she didn't, right? I mean, she chose you right then?" Anya asked, unsure of exactly when everything had happened.
"She did," Tara said, a beatific smile lighting up her features. "She tried to explain, and I stammered something about how I understood, and that she needed to be with the one she loved. And then she said that she was, and … I felt my heart stop. And then when it started beating again, I knew in that moment that from that day on, it would beat for her."
"I bet Xander never says those kinds of things about me when I'm not around," Anya muttered quietly enough so as not to break into Tara's story.
"I thought I knew what it was to love her before, but after that moment, I lost every piece of myself. Still, there was a part of me that couldn't believe. So I kinda' said, 'you mean … ?' and I trailed off, chickening out. And she just nodded and said that she did, and then she said she'd make it up to me, starting right then. And then I blew out the candle," Tara said, her eyes aglow with warmth and love.
"And >then< you had sex!" Anya said triumphantly.
"W-we made love, yes," Tara confirmed, a blush crawling up her neck.
"So how was it?" Anya asked eagerly.
"I -" Tara started to say, unsure of whether or not she should even bother answering this question. Would Anya let it go if she said it was none of her business. "It was … amazing," she said with a helpless little shrug. "I mean, neither one of us had any idea what to do … with a woman and all, and … so we just kinda' … took it real slow. All night." Tara's blush grew as she remembered that night, and how shy and tentative they were. Still, it was as though Willow knew just how to touch her, and where, to drive her wild. And Willow had been so responsive, her groans and cute little squeaks filling the room as Tara loved her.
"All night?" Anya squeaked. "Xander can't go all night! That's not fair!"
"Then maybe you should have hooked up with Willow," Tara said with a laugh.
"But I like Xander's penis. Willow doesn't >have< a penis," she complained.
"Well, then it's a trade-off," Tara said with a smirk, even as she thought 'Thank the Goddess.'
"Hmph," Anya said, bouncing against the seat back and crossing her arms. "I want both. I want Xander's penis with Willow's stamina."
Tara blinked once, then blinked again. She chewed the inside of her lip, then bit her tongue. "No comment," she finally said, staring straight ahead at the road.
"What?" Anya demanded, turning in her seat to face the driver. "You have something to say, so out with it!"
"I've forgotten what it was," Tara said airily.
"That's just not fair," Anya whined, her shoulders slumping.
"You're right. It's not," Tara agreed, unwilling to share.
"Fine," Anya said, realizing she was getting nowhere fast. "Now what do we talk about?" she wondered aloud.
"What's with the bunny thing?" Tara finally asked. "Seriously … what's scary about bunnies?"
"What's not scary about bunnies?" Anya asked. "They're truly vicious creatures. You honestly have no idea."
"But that's just it … none of us have any idea. We all think bunnies are cute," Tara said.
"That's because you can't see it. I mean, how can you miss the teeth, and the way they hippity-hop? No natural creature of this world should be able to move like that. They're cunning and mean, and the damage they can do is … unspeakable," Anya finished with a shiver. "And could we not discuss bunnies when driving all alone on a deserted highway at night?" she asked. "This is giving me the creeps. I mean, next thing you know, the car is going to break down, my cell phone battery will die, and we'll be surrounded by desert bunnies bent on destruction. Then I'll be wounded in the leg," she went on, her agitation clearly visible as she squirmed in her seat. "It'll get infected, and you'll have to cut it off, and we only have a pocket knife, and while we're gone, the shop will get broken into, and I'm going to start PMS'ing any day now!"
"Where do you come up with this stuff?" Tara asked, a look of puzzled awe on her face.
"Well, it could happen," Anya said defensively. "And do you see what the bunnies do to me? They instill fear and panic and bizarre scenarios. We just need to add in the Initiative figuring out that I was a demon and deciding to do tests on me and parachuting in a unit, and it will be the worst night of my human life!"
"Okay," Tara said with a puzzled nod. "I can see now how bunnies are clearly evil and dangerous, so let's not speak of such things anymore."
"Good," Anya said.
They drove in silence, distracting thoughts of bunnies only keeping Tara busy for a few more moments before her thoughts turned inevitably to Willow. Sweet, smart, cute, funny Willow, who ran towards danger and forgave betrayals and stood up to mean fathers and brothers, all without knowing the full story. Willow, who loved her, and needed her, and was trying so hard to get clean.
Willow who was dying.
She had avoided the thought, chasing it away when it tried to seep into her brain, but she couldn't fight it off any longer. Willow was dying. Silent tears tracked down her face, even as a fierce resolve filled her.
Willow was dying.
Not if she could help it.
There had to be something - anything - that she could do. She couldn't sit back and watch the love of her life die, no matter what crazy things had come between them. She would defend Willow with her last breath if need be, or storm Hell itself and demand The Trickster let her go.
Her hands tightened on the wheel, until her knuckles glowed white in the night. She wouldn't let it happen. She would stop it. It couldn't happen - it was unthinkable. A world without Willow in it? How could she live in such a world? Why would she want to?
No matter the pain Willow had caused her, no matter the shaky state of their relationship, the fact remained: Willow was a part of her, and she was a part of Willow. If Willow were taken away, she knew that what was left of her wouldn't be worth a thing. Breathing hurt just thinking about it - she couldn't imagine what the actual loss would do to her.
"How fast does this thing go?" she muttered, pressing down harder on the gas. One-ten. One-twenty. The car began to shake a little, but held, and Tara kept it there, tearing through the night as if the denizens of hell were on her heels.
But she was going towards those denizens, because they had their claws in Willow, and she had to stop them.
"Tara?" Anya asked uncertainly, glancing at the speedometer.
"Yes?" Tara said tightly.
"We're, uhh … going kind of fast …" Anya offered up hesitantly.
"I know," Tara said, her face set in determined lines.
"We're not going to stop tonight, are we?" Anya finally asked after a few more minutes of silence, as the miles ticked away.
"No, we're not," Tara confirmed.
Anya merely nodded, letting the seat back and closing her eyes, getting comfortable. "Wake me up in three hours or so," she said calmly. "This road isn't very bendy, so I'll take a turn tonight. If you drive for two days straight, we're not going to make it."
"You can't drive," Tara pointed out, glancing at the ex-demon.
"I've done nothing but watch you drive for about three days," Anya said. "I think I have it figured out. And while I might not feel comfortable driving as fast as you, you can get some sleep, and we'll still be making better time than we would when I insist we stop so you can rest."
"Fine," Tara said tersely. "Three hours."
Anya nodded, satisfied with the response, and let herself drift off into sleep. Tara let the darkness and the quiet settle around her like a comfortable blanket. She needed that … she needed the feeling of solitude to let her emotions have free reign.
Love for Willow was the foremost, and the most familiar. It had been the prevalent feeling in her life for so long, it was like it lived in her skin, or in her very blood. It was as much a part of her as her blue eyes.
Then there was the pain at the thought of losing Willow. That felt different, but familiar. She was used to worrying about Willow - as a Scooby, Willow was constantly exposed to danger. But this - this wasn't the same. That had been a nebulous vague worry. Vampires. Demons. Stubbed toes. She loved Willow, and so she worried. But this - this certainty that, as things stood - unless something was changed - Willow was going to die? That feeling unsettled her, set her teeth on edge, and sent sharp daggers of pain lancing towards her heart.
But it was the anger that she was ashamed of, and why she needed the comfort of solitude. She couldn't let anyone know about the anger. She was so mad - at Willow, at herself, at the whole world - that she didn't know how she was holding back the screams. But she did hold them back. Mustn't wake Anya. Mustn't let her see.
Tara let these feelings roll around inside her as she drove, pushing the car to its limits, she assumed. For all she really knew, this car could do twice this speed, but she couldn't risk it. Her need to be by Willow's side quickly was tempered by her need to arrive in one piece. She certainly couldn't do Willow any good if she managed to get herself killed on the way home.
Though it was the anger that made her ashamed, it was that feeling that scared her - the feeling that it might not be so bad if she died tonight. That way, she wouldn't have to watch as Willow slowly died, day by day, growing weaker and angrier as the Dark Magick seeped into her blood. She wouldn't have to watch those green eyes she loved so much shade to black as Willow fought the urge to just cast one last spell. She wouldn't have to watch Willow take her last shaking breath.
But no - that was the coward's way out. Willow was still alive, and she needed Tara now more than ever. As attractive as the idea was of waiting for Willow to arrive in the afterlife, instead of waiting for Willow to leave in this one, she knew she couldn't do that. She would see Willow again, in this life, and she would fight for her, and as long as there was that last shred of hope, she'd keep fighting. Her heart wouldn't let her do otherwise.
[This message has been edited by Sassette (edited February 23, 2002).]
IP: LoggedSassetteCool Monster Fighter "Anya," she said, gently shaking the sleeping form in the seat next to her.
"Huh? Wha'?" Anya said, rubbing her bleery eyes.
"Do you still want to take a turn?" Tara said, the emotional toll of the day finally catching up with her, making her realize how exhausted she was, now that the car had stopped.
Anya nodded. "Let me just …" she said, opening the door to the cold night, her eyes popping open. "Cold! Cold!" she exclaimed, releasing her seatbelt and jumping out of the car, hopping up and down. "Okay … I'm awake!" she declared, huddling up slamming the door, running over to the driver's side.
Tara unlocked the door, wearily crawling into the other seat, her limbs feeling heavy and awkward. She was stiff and sore, and her back and her leg ached. Why hadn't she noticed these things before?
"Because Willow is dying, and they're completely unimportant," she whispered bleakly, answering her own question as Anya slipped into the car.
"Okay," Anya said, taking a deep breath and releasing it. Smoothly, she pressed down on the brake pedal, then released the parking brake. She checked the mirrors, seeing no headlights - which wasn't surprising, because she couldn't remember the last car they had seen - then eased out onto the road, her motions a little jerky, but quickly smoothing out. "There - this isn't so hard," she said, taking one hand off the wheel to rub the sleep out of her eyes and drifting into the other lane.
"Both hands," Tara said quickly, making Anya jump.
"Right," Anya said. "Both hands on the wheel," she muttered under her breath, settling in for the long drive. She eased the car up to forty, feeling as though she were driving way too fast. "This is so weird," she mused. "I'm going one third the speed you were, but I feel like … it's really >really< fast. Why didn't it feel this fast when you were driving?" she asked.
"Because it's different when you're the one driving. You're more aware of what the car is actually doing," Tara mumbled, settling into the seat and letting her heavy eyelids drift shut. "It makes sense when you … think .. about it," she muttered, drifting off into an exhausted sleep, even as she finished speaking.
Anya nodded with satisfaction, looking over at the sleeping form. "Okay," she said to herself. "I'm driving a car. This is a big responsibility. But I've leveled cities and destroyed kingdoms. This shouldn't be too tough."
Tentatively, she eased up to fifty.
The miles ticked by, Anya experimentally increasing her speed as she grew more comfortable behind the wheel. She had a few bad moment when the road turned, but she managed to navigate the twists without waking Tara or killing them, so she considered it a success, even if she did have to cross that annoying double-yellow line. Who made that rule, anyway? What did it matter if she crossed the line when the road was all empty?
She relaxed into her drive and her musings about the idiocy of traffic laws, content to follow the road and let Tara sleep. She was worried. Tara had taken quite an emotional beating the last week, and now with this Willow thing on top of it? It was amazing to Anya that Tara was still standing. Not that she was standing, or was even conscious, but she meant that in the metaphoric sense. Only the deep shadows and slight lines of tension around her eyes and mouth spoke of Tara's worries.
Still, Tara was clearly exhausted to anyone who knew her. The fact that she had driven so late into the night showed her strength and determination. She hoped, for her own sake as well as Tara's, that the Scoobies would pull off another miracle, and save Willow.
The sharp chirp of the phone startled Tara out of her uneasy dreams, and she reached automatically for the glove box, popping it open and picking up the phone. Anya had jumped a little in her seat, inadvertently pressing on the gas and making the car shoot forward, but regaining control of both herself and the car after just a moment.
"Hello?" Tara said, her voice groggy with sleep. Silence greeted her on the other end of the phone, and she sat up, frowning. "Hello?" she asked again, and still only silence greeted her. A strange feeling settled into her stomach. "Willow?" she said tentatively.
"Tara?" Willow asked back, her voice a ragged whisper.
"Willow, baby?" Tara said, sitting up ramrod straight, her voice urgent and pleading. "I'm coming home, sweetheart. You hang on for me," she said, her voice breaking.
"I should be okay for a few weeks," Willow answered, her voice shaky. "I … I need you," she said, the words coming through the line as if they had been torn out of the depths of Willow's heart without her permission and passed on to Tara. "I- I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I … I don't have the right to -"
"You have every right," Tara said fiercely. "No matter what else is going on, I love you." Tara bit her lip, trying to hold back her own tears as Willow's quiet sobs echoed over the phone line. "Don't cry, baby," she said softly. "Please don't cry. I'm going to get there as soon as I can."
"I just … oh, God, I needed to hear that so badly," Willow managed to get out. "I love you so much, Tara … and I'm so sorry that I … that I let it all get this bad."
"None of that matters," Tara said quickly. "Just concentrate on staying well - on figuring out how we're going to save you, because I refuse to let you -" She couldn't finish the sentence.
"Die," Willow said starkly. "The word is 'die'."
"Don't you say that," Tara said, her voice choked. "You are >not< going to die, do you hear me?" she demanded. "I might need time, or space, but … baby, there's nothing I couldn't forgive you, do you understand that? Except this. If you die on me, I … I don't know if I could ever forgive you that," Tara said, her own sobs making her words hard to understand.
"You can't mean that," Willow said, her voice catching. "After what I did - how could you forgive me?"
"Because I love you, and it was a mistake," Tara said. "It was a stupid, hurtful mistake, but it was still a mistake. A bad judgement call. But you've learned your lesson, sweetheart. I have too," she finished on a broken whisper. "I think … I think we've both learned far too much from this one," she said, getting a mirthless laugh from Willow.
"I have learned my lesson, Tara … I swear it to you," Willow said. "I … I look back now, and I can't … I can't believe how utterly wrong I was. I can't believe that I would do such a thing, to you of all people."
They both fell silent, each listening to the other breathing on the line, taking comfort in the fact that the other was there, if only over the phone.
"Miss Kitty says hi," Willow finally said with a sniffle after several long moments.
"Miss Kitty?" Tara asked, her brow furrowing.
"S-Spike found her," Willow sobbed. "She's okay, but she's a kitten again," she said, forcing the words pass the tightness in her throat. "Hear her purr?" Tara heard the sound of the phone moving, then the distinctive rumble of a purring kitten. She couldn't help but smile when she heard the sound. "Baby?" Willow asked, when she brought the phone back to her ear.
"I'm here," Tara confirmed, a watery smile on her face. "Put Miss Kitty back on," she requested.
"I'll hold her up so we can both hear," Willow offered, the sound of Willow's breathing and Miss Kitty's purrs reaching Tara's hearing, bringing back sweet memories of lazy mornings past.
"Miss Kitty? You take good care of your mommy Willow until I get there, okay?" Tara softly requested, wiping at her eyes. "You give her lots of love and attention for me, all right?"
"She's nodding her little kitten head," Willow said, and Tara could hear the smile in her voice.
"Good. I trust Miss Kitty to know how to take proper care of you," Tara said.
"I should … I should get back to the research," Willow finally said, her voice sad and lost. "We've found out a few things, but … not enough."
"Not enough, yet," Tara said, stressing the last word. "We'll get past this, baby, I swear it."
"I don't wanna' hang up," Willow said, sniffling again.
"I don't want to either," Tara said, holding the phone like a lifeline. "But baby … I'll be there as soon as I can, I promise. And you have to do the research. We have to find a way to fix this, because I refuse to let you go."
"I love you, baby," Willow said again, needing to express what was in her heart. "More than anything … I - I don't have the words to tell you -"
"I already know," Tara said. "Because it's how much I love you."
They both sat in silence for a moment, taking comfort in their brief connection before each disconnected their phones, neither willing to say 'good-bye'.
IP: Logged
posted February 22, 2002 23:56 Tara glanced at the green glow of the clock on the dash. Three and a half hours had passed, she realized with a start, easing up on the accelerator. The shaking smoothed out around one-ten, and she slowed further, finally easing the car to a stop at the side of the road."Anya," she said, gently shaking the sleeping form in the seat next to her.
"Huh? Wha'?" Anya said, rubbing her bleery eyes.
"Do you still want to take a turn?" Tara said, the emotional toll of the day finally catching up with her, making her realize how exhausted she was, now that the car had stopped.
Anya nodded. "Let me just …" she said, opening the door to the cold night, her eyes popping open. "Cold! Cold!" she exclaimed, releasing her seatbelt and jumping out of the car, hopping up and down. "Okay … I'm awake!" she declared, huddling up slamming the door, running over to the driver's side.
Tara unlocked the door, wearily crawling into the other seat, her limbs feeling heavy and awkward. She was stiff and sore, and her back and her leg ached. Why hadn't she noticed these things before?
"Because Willow is dying, and they're completely unimportant," she whispered bleakly, answering her own question as Anya slipped into the car.
"Okay," Anya said, taking a deep breath and releasing it. Smoothly, she pressed down on the brake pedal, then released the parking brake. She checked the mirrors, seeing no headlights - which wasn't surprising, because she couldn't remember the last car they had seen - then eased out onto the road, her motions a little jerky, but quickly smoothing out. "There - this isn't so hard," she said, taking one hand off the wheel to rub the sleep out of her eyes and drifting into the other lane.
"Both hands," Tara said quickly, making Anya jump.
"Right," Anya said. "Both hands on the wheel," she muttered under her breath, settling in for the long drive. She eased the car up to forty, feeling as though she were driving way too fast. "This is so weird," she mused. "I'm going one third the speed you were, but I feel like … it's really >really< fast. Why didn't it feel this fast when you were driving?" she asked.
"Because it's different when you're the one driving. You're more aware of what the car is actually doing," Tara mumbled, settling into the seat and letting her heavy eyelids drift shut. "It makes sense when you … think .. about it," she muttered, drifting off into an exhausted sleep, even as she finished speaking.
Anya nodded with satisfaction, looking over at the sleeping form. "Okay," she said to herself. "I'm driving a car. This is a big responsibility. But I've leveled cities and destroyed kingdoms. This shouldn't be too tough."
Tentatively, she eased up to fifty.
The miles ticked by, Anya experimentally increasing her speed as she grew more comfortable behind the wheel. She had a few bad moment when the road turned, but she managed to navigate the twists without waking Tara or killing them, so she considered it a success, even if she did have to cross that annoying double-yellow line. Who made that rule, anyway? What did it matter if she crossed the line when the road was all empty?
She relaxed into her drive and her musings about the idiocy of traffic laws, content to follow the road and let Tara sleep. She was worried. Tara had taken quite an emotional beating the last week, and now with this Willow thing on top of it? It was amazing to Anya that Tara was still standing. Not that she was standing, or was even conscious, but she meant that in the metaphoric sense. Only the deep shadows and slight lines of tension around her eyes and mouth spoke of Tara's worries.
Still, Tara was clearly exhausted to anyone who knew her. The fact that she had driven so late into the night showed her strength and determination. She hoped, for her own sake as well as Tara's, that the Scoobies would pull off another miracle, and save Willow.
The sharp chirp of the phone startled Tara out of her uneasy dreams, and she reached automatically for the glove box, popping it open and picking up the phone. Anya had jumped a little in her seat, inadvertently pressing on the gas and making the car shoot forward, but regaining control of both herself and the car after just a moment.
"Hello?" Tara said, her voice groggy with sleep. Silence greeted her on the other end of the phone, and she sat up, frowning. "Hello?" she asked again, and still only silence greeted her. A strange feeling settled into her stomach. "Willow?" she said tentatively.
"Tara?" Willow asked back, her voice a ragged whisper.
"Willow, baby?" Tara said, sitting up ramrod straight, her voice urgent and pleading. "I'm coming home, sweetheart. You hang on for me," she said, her voice breaking.
"I should be okay for a few weeks," Willow answered, her voice shaky. "I … I need you," she said, the words coming through the line as if they had been torn out of the depths of Willow's heart without her permission and passed on to Tara. "I- I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I … I don't have the right to -"
"You have every right," Tara said fiercely. "No matter what else is going on, I love you." Tara bit her lip, trying to hold back her own tears as Willow's quiet sobs echoed over the phone line. "Don't cry, baby," she said softly. "Please don't cry. I'm going to get there as soon as I can."
"I just … oh, God, I needed to hear that so badly," Willow managed to get out. "I love you so much, Tara … and I'm so sorry that I … that I let it all get this bad."
"None of that matters," Tara said quickly. "Just concentrate on staying well - on figuring out how we're going to save you, because I refuse to let you -" She couldn't finish the sentence.
"Die," Willow said starkly. "The word is 'die'."
"Don't you say that," Tara said, her voice choked. "You are >not< going to die, do you hear me?" she demanded. "I might need time, or space, but … baby, there's nothing I couldn't forgive you, do you understand that? Except this. If you die on me, I … I don't know if I could ever forgive you that," Tara said, her own sobs making her words hard to understand.
"You can't mean that," Willow said, her voice catching. "After what I did - how could you forgive me?"
"Because I love you, and it was a mistake," Tara said. "It was a stupid, hurtful mistake, but it was still a mistake. A bad judgement call. But you've learned your lesson, sweetheart. I have too," she finished on a broken whisper. "I think … I think we've both learned far too much from this one," she said, getting a mirthless laugh from Willow.
"I have learned my lesson, Tara … I swear it to you," Willow said. "I … I look back now, and I can't … I can't believe how utterly wrong I was. I can't believe that I would do such a thing, to you of all people."
They both fell silent, each listening to the other breathing on the line, taking comfort in the fact that the other was there, if only over the phone.
"Miss Kitty says hi," Willow finally said with a sniffle after several long moments.
"Miss Kitty?" Tara asked, her brow furrowing.
"S-Spike found her," Willow sobbed. "She's okay, but she's a kitten again," she said, forcing the words pass the tightness in her throat. "Hear her purr?" Tara heard the sound of the phone moving, then the distinctive rumble of a purring kitten. She couldn't help but smile when she heard the sound. "Baby?" Willow asked, when she brought the phone back to her ear.
"I'm here," Tara confirmed, a watery smile on her face. "Put Miss Kitty back on," she requested.
"I'll hold her up so we can both hear," Willow offered, the sound of Willow's breathing and Miss Kitty's purrs reaching Tara's hearing, bringing back sweet memories of lazy mornings past.
"Miss Kitty? You take good care of your mommy Willow until I get there, okay?" Tara softly requested, wiping at her eyes. "You give her lots of love and attention for me, all right?"
"She's nodding her little kitten head," Willow said, and Tara could hear the smile in her voice.
"Good. I trust Miss Kitty to know how to take proper care of you," Tara said.
"I should … I should get back to the research," Willow finally said, her voice sad and lost. "We've found out a few things, but … not enough."
"Not enough, yet," Tara said, stressing the last word. "We'll get past this, baby, I swear it."
"I don't wanna' hang up," Willow said, sniffling again.
"I don't want to either," Tara said, holding the phone like a lifeline. "But baby … I'll be there as soon as I can, I promise. And you have to do the research. We have to find a way to fix this, because I refuse to let you go."
"I love you, baby," Willow said again, needing to express what was in her heart. "More than anything … I - I don't have the words to tell you -"
"I already know," Tara said. "Because it's how much I love you."
They both sat in silence for a moment, taking comfort in their brief connection before each disconnected their phones, neither willing to say 'good-bye'.
IP: LoggedForeverPiperCool Monster Fighter [This message has been edited by ForeverPiper (edited February 23, 2002).]
IP: Logged
posted February 23, 2002 00:20 I loved the Willow/ Tara interactoin over the phone. That was perfect! I can't wait for the next part.[This message has been edited by ForeverPiper (edited February 23, 2002).]
IP: LoggedSassetteCool Monster Fighter *shrug* Tomorrow's a Saturday.
-Sass
***edited to add: Sorry ... that was, as it turns out, a cruel trick. Me tired. Me going to sleep soon. Screen blurry.***
[This message has been edited by Sassette (edited February 23, 2002).]
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posted February 23, 2002 00:50 Heh ... you might not have to ... I don't know when I became such a psychopath, but I'm seriously considering staying up and writing some more.*shrug* Tomorrow's a Saturday.
-Sass
***edited to add: Sorry ... that was, as it turns out, a cruel trick. Me tired. Me going to sleep soon. Screen blurry.***
[This message has been edited by Sassette (edited February 23, 2002).]
IP: LoggedFrenchRoseCool Monster Fighter Two : What kind of a bizarre girl is that Anya anyway, huh ? Kinda makes you wonder what's going on in her head to come up with such weird little scenarios, huh ? (nervous faux laugh). Erm.
Three: This rocks.
Three and a Half : You write Anya like nobody's business. I love that in this story, even if it is a W/T story, other Scoobs are well treated, if you see what I mean. A sign of great writing, that is.
Three and a Half and then some more: Talk to the hand, cause the head ain't gonna hear it anymore. And if you actually understand why I just wrote *that*, well, you're as scary as me.*g*
FrenchRose
[This message has been edited by FrenchRose (edited February 23, 2002).]
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posted February 23, 2002 01:19 Ok One : Ouch. In a good, oh boy is that my heart you're stamping on there kind of ouchy way. That phone call was powerful.Two : What kind of a bizarre girl is that Anya anyway, huh ? Kinda makes you wonder what's going on in her head to come up with such weird little scenarios, huh ? (nervous faux laugh). Erm.
Three: This rocks.
Three and a Half : You write Anya like nobody's business. I love that in this story, even if it is a W/T story, other Scoobs are well treated, if you see what I mean. A sign of great writing, that is.
Three and a Half and then some more: Talk to the hand, cause the head ain't gonna hear it anymore. And if you actually understand why I just wrote *that*, well, you're as scary as me.*g*
FrenchRose
[This message has been edited by FrenchRose (edited February 23, 2002).]
IP: LoggedPixieSassy Eggs quote:
Originally posted by Sassette:
**Pixie - *runs over and gives mouth to mouth resuscitation* You gotta' wake up for the next update!).]
Mmf...wha'...Sass? Mmmm...mouth to mouth...Okay, I'm awake!
*Pixie reads update*
Oh, Anya lying to protect Tara. "Oz, biting, sex, and Willow" tee, hee! Tara telliing the extra flamey story - how sweet and romantic! And Xander's penis with Willow's stamina! Lol What was Tara going to say? Anya's explanation of the viciousness of bunnies, followed by her paranoid scenario - oh my God, LMAO! *Pixie tries not to startle the cats or wake the neighbors*
Tara's pain, and the phone conversation! *sniffle...sob...thud!*
*Pixie cracks one eye open* Um, Sass? There was another thud...I might need mouth to mouth resucitation again...do you think you could check?...
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posted February 23, 2002 01:52quote:
Originally posted by Sassette:
**Pixie - *runs over and gives mouth to mouth resuscitation* You gotta' wake up for the next update!).]
Mmf...wha'...Sass? Mmmm...mouth to mouth...Okay, I'm awake!
*Pixie reads update*
Oh, Anya lying to protect Tara. "Oz, biting, sex, and Willow" tee, hee! Tara telliing the extra flamey story - how sweet and romantic! And Xander's penis with Willow's stamina! Lol What was Tara going to say? Anya's explanation of the viciousness of bunnies, followed by her paranoid scenario - oh my God, LMAO! *Pixie tries not to startle the cats or wake the neighbors*
Tara's pain, and the phone conversation! *sniffle...sob...thud!*
*Pixie cracks one eye open* Um, Sass? There was another thud...I might need mouth to mouth resucitation again...do you think you could check?...
And I agree with FrenchRose – your Anya is fantastic. I wish the show could give her this kind of attention and development. BTW, some of Anya's rantings sounded oddly familiar, but maybe it was just my imagination.
And something I forgot to mention about the last part (thank goodness your muse is so prolific!) – that scene with Willow hugging her knees and crying was so painful. Any time Willow cries on the show it’s hard to watch, but it was just as painful the way you described it in your fic. Great job!
After reading this, I’m beginning to think that you should pair up each of the Scoobies and lock them in a room or car so we can get all this fascinating insight into their personalities. You really learn a lot that way.
A pleasure to read, as always.
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posted February 23, 2002 10:34 God you’re good, Sass. Here I was in this big rush to get Tara home, but the way you’ve prolonged it is so much more satisfying. Both phone conversations were so heartwrenching and wonderful, I would have hated to have missed them.And I agree with FrenchRose – your Anya is fantastic. I wish the show could give her this kind of attention and development. BTW, some of Anya's rantings sounded oddly familiar, but maybe it was just my imagination.
And something I forgot to mention about the last part (thank goodness your muse is so prolific!) – that scene with Willow hugging her knees and crying was so painful. Any time Willow cries on the show it’s hard to watch, but it was just as painful the way you described it in your fic. Great job!
After reading this, I’m beginning to think that you should pair up each of the Scoobies and lock them in a room or car so we can get all this fascinating insight into their personalities. You really learn a lot that way.
A pleasure to read, as always.
IP: LoggedYuriPupFloating Rose BTW, cut and pasted all the sections into Word... 95k words and 170+ pages.
[This message has been edited by YuriPup (edited February 23, 2002).]
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posted February 23, 2002 10:54 Build the angst and they will come. Didn't I tell you that before? If not I should have. Great stuff, Sass.BTW, cut and pasted all the sections into Word... 95k words and 170+ pages.
[This message has been edited by YuriPup (edited February 23, 2002).]
IP: LoggedPuffGay Now! I loved the exchanges between Tara and Anya. and especially the little bit about Tara not thinking vengence was really nice and what Anya thought of that.
One thing, wasn't Tara in a chair looking out of a window in NMR before Willow came to her with the flamey candle?
Great update Sass, bring on the next parts...I am ready for them.
------------------
'The cold and ruthless sea tossed the lovers' into the starry black night. together they fall, together they sleep. forever.. forever.. *whisper*forever..the cold and ruthless sea...' By Sweets
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posted February 23, 2002 11:52 2 great updates, I am so hooked on this story. I need moreI loved the exchanges between Tara and Anya. and especially the little bit about Tara not thinking vengence was really nice and what Anya thought of that.
One thing, wasn't Tara in a chair looking out of a window in NMR before Willow came to her with the flamey candle?
Great update Sass, bring on the next parts...I am ready for them.
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'The cold and ruthless sea tossed the lovers' into the starry black night. together they fall, together they sleep. forever.. forever.. *whisper*forever..the cold and ruthless sea...' By Sweets
by Sassette » Fri Feb 22, 2002 1:34 pm
Title: Answering Darkness Part 31 - Research
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to pink_overalls@yahoo.com
Summary: Willow gets the news about several new developments.
Spoiler Warning: Up to and including "Tabula Rasa" in Season 6.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I'm just borrowing them because Season 6 angst is running high, and I want my happy ending now, dammit! So I'm writing it … but it'll be awhile until I get to that part, so bear with me (or "bare" with me if you're naughty).
Rating: PG-13
Notes: For the purpose of this story, all events of Tabula Rasa took place exactly as shown in the series; however, no subsequent episodes will affect this piece. We're splitting from canon here, because this seems the fastest way to get a reconciliation and because I feel this is one of the possible outcomes when taking the "addiction" metaphor into account. So, I should shut the heck up now, and just get to the story, right? Right.
Answering Darkness Part 31
Research
By Sassette
Willow walked gingerly down the stairs, shivering slightly, an old pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt hanging loosely on her small frame. She had stayed in the shower, washing away the darkness until long after the water had turned cold.
“I don’t know Latin,” Dawn’s tremulous voice drifted up to her.
“We’ll find what we need,” she heard Buffy’s voice answer firmly.
She entered the living room, surprised to see the transformation. Gone were Buffy’s papers, and instead, huge stacks of books from the magic shop covered the table. Her laptop was open in front of Dawn.
“Dawnie?” Willow said in a soft voice. “My laptop?”
“Oh, I –“ Dawn said, a guilty look crossing her features. “We … we needed to find some things, on the internet. I, uh… I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“Oh, of course,” Willow said, nodding. “I don’t mind. I mean, I prefer to be asked first, but … y’know, I was all in the shower and stuff. I guess you can’t be expected to walk on in, huh?” she finished weakly, moving to sit on the couch.
Buffy grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch, wordlessly wrapping it around her shivering friend.
“How are you feeling?” she asked softly.
“Better,” Willow said with a small smile. “All squeaky-clean.”
“I’ll, uhh … I’ll just … get more coffee,” Dawn said, rushing from the room. Only then did Willow notice the two steaming cups sitting on the table.
“You’re letting Dawn drink coffee?” Willow asked incredulously.
“Well, we’ve got lots of research to do,” Buffy defended herself. “And we need all the help we can get. Xander’s on the way over,” she added needlessly.
“Well, I didn’t think he’d be anywhere else,” Willow said. “Hell God and all – that’s a job for the Scooby Gang.”
“Right,” Buffy said, unable to bring herself to laugh at Willow’s joke, the sick knowledge of what could happen to Willow sitting heavily in her stomach. While Willow had been in the shower, she had called Tara, and she had no idea how she was faring. Anya had said they were two days out, but Buffy had no idea how Willow’s condition would progress, and even if she’d be coherent in two days time.
“Buffy, I’m … I’m sorry,” Willow said miserably, sniffing. “I never meant to-“
“I know, Will,” Buffy said, reaching out and squeezing her hand.
“Buffy? Is something wrong?” Willow asked slowly, a little frown on her face. “I mean, other than the stuff I already know about? Because you look like …” Willow said, trailing off, only to start up again in a panicked voice. “Buffy, what aren’t you telling me? Did you get a phone call? Is Tara all right? Nothing happened at her father’s house, did it?”
“No, Tara’s fine,” Buffy assured her. “Actually, I’m … really worried about you,” Buffy said.
“Yeah, I’m a little worried about me, too,” Willow admitted. “This is … really hard.”
“It’s … everything’s worse than we thought,” Buffy said carefully. “Willow,” she went on, taking Willow’s hand, her voice unusually serious, causing Willow’s worry to jump several notches. “The Dark Magick that’s inside you? It’s … it’s basically poisoning you. If it builds up too much and takes over your blood, you could –“ she said, her voice cracking and then she stopped, unable to get the word past the tightness in her throat.
“I could die, couldn’t I?” Willow asked softly, her eyes wide.
“God, Willow, I’m so … sorry,” Buffy said, the words sounding empty and hollow in her ears.
“Exactly how does that work?” Willow asked calmly.
“The Trickster keeps sending you the magick,” Buffy answered starkly, her voice sounding raw and troubled. “It’s building up inside you, which is why it’s trying so hard to get out. It’s why you feel so bad right now. It – the magick is going to eventually take over your blood.”
“I –“ Willow said, only to stop as she tried to digest the information. Her immediate thoughts all circled around Tara. How would she take it? Would she be okay once Willow was gone? Did she even know? Ruthlessly, she pushed the thoughts aside as tears welled up in her eyes. “I guess we got lots of work to do, then, huh?” Willow asked, all color draining from her face as she moved into the chair Dawn had vacated and pulled the laptop towards her. “We have to figure out exactly what my connection to the Hell God is, what exactly he needs me for, and those should give us some clues on how to stop him from pumping Dark Magick into me.”
Willow hunched over the keyboard, her fingers flying, every now and again moving the mouse around and clicking, seemingly at random. Buffy watched for a moment, seeing the dawning horror and panic starting to creep across Willow’s face.
“Willow, you need to rest,” Buffy said, leveling a stare at the redhead.
“Rest? How the hell am I supposed to rest right now, Buffy?” Willow demanded, looking up at her with a fierce look on her face. “I need to not think about it right now, and in order to not think about it, I need to be busy. Because if I think about it, I’m going to …” she went on, her face crumbling. Tara’s face swam before her eyes, and she realized that all she wanted to do was crawl into her arms where she knew she’d be safe. She choked back a sob, shaking off the thoughts, clenching her jaw and going determinedly back to the research and ignoring the worried looks Buffy kept sending her way.
“I have coffee,” Dawn said, entering the room slowly, a tray in her hands.
“Did you make me some?” Willow asked, her voice hoarse.
“Of course I did,” Dawn said. “And I … I kinda’, umm,” she said slowly, suddenly unsure as to whether or not her plan had been a good idea. “Yours might taste kind of funny,” she confessed, looking over at Willow. “I put … I put some of that baking soda in with the sugar, so … I figured if you could kinda’ … take out some of the dark stuff in your tummy, it might slow it down. From the inside.”
“That’s … that’s a good idea, Dawn,” Willow said. “That could help,” Willow said with a small smile as a relieved look crossed Dawn’s face.
“I … I had to do something,” Dawn said weakly. “We can’t lose you.” Tears welled up in Dawn's eyes, and Willow immediately felt the need to reassure the scared teenager.
“You won’t lose me, Dawn,” Willow said fiercely, resolve face firmly in place. “I have no intention of leaving any of you.”
A relieved look crossed Dawn’s face. “Really?” she asked, handing over the cup of coffee and wanting so badly to believe Willow's words.
“Really,” Willow assured, taking the cup, then squeezing Dawn’s hand.
“And the donut man approacheth,” Xander said, walking into the house with a big box of donuts in his hand. He set the donuts on the table, immediately pulling Willow out of her chair and into a hug. “How are you holding up, Wills?” he asked softly.
Willow leaned into him, returning the hug for a moment before pulling back. “Y’know … another day on the Hellmouth,” she said lightly. “If one of use weren’t in mortal peril, it wouldn’t quite be the same.”
“That’s not funny, Will,” Xander said with a frown.
“I know it’s not,” Willow snapped, her eyes flashing. “I’m … I’m sorry,” she said, sitting back down heavily. “I just –“
“It’s okay. I understand,” Xander said, hunkering down next to her and patting her arm awkwardly. “So,” he said, looking around the room. “Another Scooby all-nighter?”
“I’ll get you some coffee,” Dawn said, standing up and heading back into the kitchen.
Effectively dismissing her friends, unable to deal with the fear in their eyes, Willow turned back to her computer. Dawn had several files open that she had never seen before, but they were certainly informative.
“Dawn?” she called out.
“Yeah?” Dawn called back from the kitchen.
“Where did these files come from?” she asked curiously.
“Giles sent them from the council,” Dawn answered back.
“Giles used the ‘infernal machine’ and emailed me some files?” Willow muttered incredulously. “This really >is< the Apocalypse.”
“Actually, he didn’t send them,” Buffy said, looking up from her book. “Apparently, he’s on a team of Council ‘rejects’ … they get all the crap jobs. They consider Giles to be ‘unconventional’ and he’s their hero,” she went on wryly.
“Giles is unconventional?” Xander asked with a smirk. “Who knew our stodgy watcher-man was such a rebel?”
“Anyway, one of the guys on the team is some kind of computer-guy, which is why the Council really doesn’t like him. That whole team is working on this, getting information and trying to decipher those prophecies. This guy will email updates whenever they have them,” Buffy said, finishing explaining.
“Cool,” Willow said absently, scrolling through the documents, translating the Latin in her head as she went.
She clicked open her email, seeing a message that had been read already, sent from England. She opened the message, hoping the actual email message had more information about what was in the documents.
Willow,
I’m having one of my colleagues send you information on this infernal machine. It seems more efficient than letting you write things out longhand when I call; however, I will still call every time I send information to get an update on the happenings in Sunnydale, and to confirm that you receive these files. Included is the full text of the prophecy we’re working on now, several documents relating to The Trickster, as well as a compilation of first-hand accounts of mystical events that may have included The Trickster.
-Giles
“Ah … so that’s what I’m looking at,” Willow mumbled, clicking back to the documents. “Now,” she said louder. “We think this witch who defeated The Trickster was related to me, right?”
“Right,” Buffy confirmed with a nod. “That’s our current working theory.”
Willow nodded, then turned back to her computer, opening up the files she had on her own genealogy. It had been a project she was working on, but had shelved several times over the last few years, what with Scooby things and school, then the responsibilities of taking care of Dawn and the Scooby Gang after Buffy’s death. Would her passing leave a hole like that?
Determinedly, she pushed the thoughts away, going back to her research. It should be easy enough, really, with the groundwork she already had, to trace her line back through the women in her family, and see what she found.
Willow lost herself in her task, finding that the work allowed her to focus on something other than the startling revelations of the day and Tara’s aching absence. The Scoobies worked around her in silence, for once the loud complaints and the jokes gone.
“I think I found something,” Xander said, surprise evident in his voice.
“What do you have?” Buffy asked, looking up sharply from her book, which was a big bust. Everyone stopped, and Xander gulped as all eyes focused on him.
“Oddly enough, I think it’s about Angel,” he said with a frown. “It … it kinda’ fits, y’know?”
“What is it?” Dawn pressed.
“Well, it talks about the three Hell Gods. The Trickster, The Beast, and The Scales.”
“The Scales?” Buffy asked with a frown. “That’s a pretty lame name for a Hell God. I think I’d be all pissed off if I were that one.”
“It’s about what function they serve. The Beast, Glory, was all about rage and fear ... primal-type stuff," he said slowly. "The Trickster is all reason and logic and cunning. Nasty guy, though. The Scales ... is kinda' ... not a guy OR a girl ... but something else."
"A hermaphroditic Hell God?" Willow asked, a confused look on her face.
"Right," Xander said with a nod. "Anyway, The Scales is just that ... the balance between The Beast and The Trickster. Anyway, The Trickster ... well, tricked The Scales into helping him banish Glory, which is why she was here."
"So how does Angel tie into this?" Buffy asked quietly.
"Well, they kinda' list a few of each Hell God's accomplishments, showing how they can influence things here, even when they're in Hell. The Trickster, apparently, supplied the big Dark Magick juice needed to curse Angel with his soul in the first place. At least, that's what I'm guessing. The details are vague here, but the timeline is right," Xander said, handing the book over to Willow.
Willow read in silence, looking over the passage Xander indicated, nodding as she read.
"But why would a bad guy make a good vampire?" Dawn asked.
"Because it's a curse," Willow said hollowly, looking up with haunted eyes. "That spell doomed Angel to an eternity of torment - a past that haunted him that he could never atone for. And I did the same thing to him," she said starkly.
“Willow – you did what you had to do,” Buffy said gently. “You didn’t do it to send him into torment … you did it to keep him from hurting people. To keep me from hurting by having to kill him.”
“Yeah, and that worked out so well,” Willow said bitterly. “You had to kill him anyway, only you had to look him in the eye, knowing he had his soul back.”
“That’s …” Buffy said, her heart clenching as she remembered that moment with stark clarity. “That’s not the point, Willow. You did it for all the right reasons.”
“I did it because I could,” Willow shot back. “I wanted to prove something to myself – that I was powerful enough to do it. But I wasn’t,” she said.
“The spell worked,” Xander puzzled out. “Of course you were powerful enough.”
“No,” Willow said with a shake of her head. “I … I felt something when I cast, like … some power surging through me. It was … euphoric. And then it was gone, and I felt so empty. That was him – The Trickster. That’s when I opened the door and let him in, because I was too sure I knew what I was doing, and I didn’t stop and think of the consequences.”
“Oh my God,” Xander breathed. “That long ago?” he asked, his voice squeaking.
Willow just nodded, a look of pure misery on her face. “It had to have been. He needed time to make his connection to me this strong, right? And he supplied the power for the original curse. It only makes sense that he would be paying attention when someone tried the curse again.”
“So if he started his big Hell God plan way back then, what else has he been doing?” Buffy wondered aloud, the words falling heavily into the room.
“I – I don’t know,” Willow said softly. “It could be anything, and we wouldn’t know. We’d have no way of knowing what bad things happened that were just us, or were helped along by him.”
“Okay, The Trickster no longer seems all court-jester-y,” Xander said with a frown. “His creepiness factor is steadily climbing.”
“I’ll … I’ll be right back,” Willow said, standing up and leaving the room. She grabbed the phone and the rolodex, making her way into the kitchen and dialing. She paused, listening to the phone ring before it was picked up.
“Anya?” she said quietly. “It’s Willow, but don’t tell Tara I’m on the phone.”
In the other room, Xander said softly enough to not be overheard, “Buffy, this is really freaking me out. Willow’s taking this whole thing a little too calmly.”
“Just … I just need to know how she is,” Willow whispered brokenly into the phone. “Tell me she’s okay.”
“I know,” Buffy whispered back to Xander. “I think … it’s probably going to hit her all at once. And Willow snapping into a million pieces is not something I care to see.”
“Thank you, Anya,” Willow said, her voice grateful as tears welled up in her eyes. “I know you and I haven’t really gotten along, but take care of her for me, okay? In case something happens before you get here. Make sure she’s all right. She’s always liked you, and she’ll need a friend.”
“I just wish Tara were here,” Xander whispered back, turning to his book when Willow walked back into the room, wiping tears from her eyes as surreptitiously as possible and going back to her seat.
“I need more information,” Willow said quickly, turning back to her research with a manic intensity that garnered worried looks from all the Scoobies present. “I have to know … what happened before and … I have to know.”
She continued muttering, occasionally taking notes, as she continued tracing her genealogy. The Scoobies exchanged worried glances before turning back to their own books, determined to find a way to save Willow.
Willow frowned at her computer, having traced her ancestry back several generations to Scotland. As far as she knew, it was the only scrap of blood in her that came from that area, but it followed the female line back, and it was the right culture to have standing stones, so she felt she was on the right track. As encouraging as this was, it was eminently frustrating that she couldn’t find anything further back than the woman who had come to America, and there was no evidence to suggest she had practiced magick of any kind.
With a sigh, she shot off an email to Giles’ computer guy, filling him in on what she knew so far. It may have been a bust from her point of view, but since the Council was in England anyway, she figured they should have better records than she could get over the internet.
She really had to find the time to finish writing her Latin translation program, she mused idly as she switched over to the crazed ramblings of a madmen – a prophet whose words seemed to be about The Trickster and his rise to power. A sinking feeling in her gut reminded her that she just might be out of time – that she might never finish the program. Or college. Never get back together with Tara. Never travel. There were so many books she hadn’t read, and so many places she hadn’t seen. So many things she had never bothered to learn.
She continued reading through her tears, unable to make heads or tails of the document in front of her. It clearly made no sense, and while she might be able to figure it all out if she had a few months to study it, she was certainly no expert when it came to that sort of thing.
With another frown, she changed documents again, reading over their information on The Trickster. Her frown deepened the further she read. Where Glory was short-sighted and self-centered, The Trickster was calculating and philanthropic in a twisted Hell God kind of way. He saw humanity as a bunch of childish powerless Glory’s … and as such, his goals seemed to center around leading humanity to a maturity of pure cold reason, untempered by compassion or altruism. Willow shivered as she read, finding that while the world wouldn’t end if The Trickster made his way out of Hell, all of humanity would be subjugated to his will and pressed into worship.
Engrossed in her work, she blocked out the sound of conversation around her, until a round of mocking laughter echoed around the room. She looked up, listening to Dawn and Buffy and Xander talking about how worthless she was – how glad they were that she was going to die. She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes tight, tears streaming down her face as each word seemed to stab her through the heart.
In the silent room, each of the Scoobies heard Willow make a noise like a wounded animal, the sound startling them out of their reading. Each looked up to see Willow crying quietly, silent sobs shaking her shoulders.
“Willow?” Buffy asked uncertainly, starting to rise as Dawn rushed to her side.
“Willow,” Dawn said, reaching out, only to see Willow flinch away as if she sensed the movement without the benefit of sight.
Xander looked on helplessly as Willow seemed to curl in on herself, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, her head bending down. She rocked forward and back slowly, a strange keening sound punctuated by sobs filling the room.
“What do we do?” Dawn asked, afraid to reach out again.
“I don’t know,” Xander said, moving closer to Willow, but keeping his distance enough that he didn’t startle her.
Willow heard each word, each taunt and jab shaking her to the core. She deserved this. She had brought all of this on herself with her own insecurities. But they were deserved insecurities – her friends weren’t really her friends. They only cared as long as she was useful. Now, she was useless and dying and they were stuck with her, just waiting for her to stop … being.
“No,” Willow moaned, hugging her knees tighter. “No …” she said again on a choked whisper. The loved her. She knew it. This was a trick. It was all a trick.
No, their friendship and love had been the trick. Now she was seeing the truth. The truth was, none of them had ever loved her. Not Xander, not Oz … and not Tara.
“No,” Willow said again, her heart breaking in two. Tara loved her. She knew it. She was rushing home to be with her – Anya had said so.
And then it was clear. Tara did love her. When she didn’t know what was real, when she had nothing left to hold onto, she knew this to the very core of her being. Tara loved her. They might not be together right now, but that parting had hurt Tara every bit as much as it had hurt her. Tara loved her.
The shaking subsided, as did the voices, and after a long moment, Willow was able to raise her head and wipe at her eyes.
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, looking at the concerned – and loving – faces of her friends. Her family. “It – kinda’ got intense there for a minute.”
“Here,” Dawn said, handing over the long-forgotten and cold coffee.
“Thanks,” Willow said, gingerly taking the cup, then downing the liquid quickly.
She gasped, pain ripping through her stomach. Xander rushed to her side as she doubled over, crossing her arms over her belly and grimacing. Her contents of her stomach roiled, and then it subsided. With a few shaky breaths, she extricated herself from Xander’s arms and sat up, noticing immediately that she felt … lighter … freer … than she had in days.
“That was … whoah,” she said slowly.
“I-I’m sorry,” Dawn said, a stricken look on her face. “I didn’t know it … I didn’t know,” she said.
“No, it’s okay,” Willow said quickly. “I feel … I mean, it hurt for a bit, but … I feel so much better,” she reassured the girl. “It’s … it’s really strange.”
“But I should have realized,” Dawn went on. “I mean, it made that weird hissing sound in the bucket.”
“I didn’t think of that, either,” Willow said.
“But you’re okay?” Buffy asked from Willow’s side, surprising Willow. She hadn’t noticed Buffy move.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Willow said. “I … I think we better get back to the research.”
They all nodded, moving back to their study spots and picking up their books.
“Knock knock,” Spike said, opening the door of the Summers home and sauntering in. His coat was closed up, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Buffy said wryly.
“Funny you should mention that,” Spike said with a grin. “Because I was just playing poker with me mates.”
“Oh, God … with the betting of the kittens?” Buffy said with a groan.
“Kittens?” Willow asked, horrified. “You bet kittens?” A flash of sadness hit her as she remembered her beloved Miss Kitty Fantastico, who had disappeared that summer. A suspicious look crossed her face as she glared at Spike, until she remembered that Miss Kitty wouldn’t have qualified as a ‘kitten’ at the time. Still … “You … you have to bet kittens, though, right?” she asked weakly. “No cats?”
“That’s right,” Spike confirmed, nodding. “However, it seems some temporal demon was cheating … out stealing cats, making them kittens again,” he said, pursing his lips. “Doesn’t change anything, or hurt the kitties, but still … it’s just not done, y’know?”
“How’d you find that out?” Buffy asked, wondering what Spike’s point was.
“Well, I recognized this one,” Spike said, moving one arm and gingerly unfastening to front of his coat, revealing a small bundle of fur. “Took me awhile to win her back, but …” he said with a shrug, gently handing the kitten to Willow, who mewed happily as if recognizing one of her mommy’s and settling in her lap.
“Miss Kitty?” Willow gasped, tears stinging her eyes. “I …” She hugged the kitten to her, rubbing her cheek against the soft fur and listening to her purr. “Oh, Miss Kitty,” she said, holding her away to check her over for any hurts. Finding none, she gave a relieved sigh, then let the kitten settle in her lap, laughing through her tears at her little kitty yawn as she settled in for a nap. “Thank you, Spike,” she said, looking up at the vampire, then promptly bursting into tears.
“Hey, now,” Spike said, a troubled look on his face. “No crying, all right? I hate seeing women cry,” he muttered.
“It’s … complicated,” Buffy said slowly, watching Willow cuddle the kitten and give vent to her fear and anger at her situation. “She … really needs this,” she whispered, pulling Spike into the kitchen and motioning everyone to follow her.
“What the bloody hell is going on?” Spike asked angrily. “I show up with her lost kitten … and let me tell you, both Red and Blondie >sobbed< when that little bugger left, and now she’s bawling?”
“She’s dying, Spike,” Buffy said bluntly.
“What?” he asked incredulously.
“She’s … the Dark Magick is killing her. She can’t cast spells, so she can’t get rid of it. It’s building up,” she explained quickly.
“Oh, God … does Tara know?” he asked, frowning.
Buffy nodded, her eyes filling up with tears. “But Willow’s been kind of … she … it’s like it hadn’t hit her yet. I think seeing Miss Kitty made it all sink in.”
“So we’re just standing her in the kitchen while Red sobs her heart out?” Spike asked slowly. “I mean, I’m evil … what’s your excuse for being heartless?”
“Hey!” Xander said, offended.
“Especially you, you wanker,” Spike said acidly. “Known her since she was five? Gonna’ watch her die.”
“I think she just needs some time alone,” Buffy said, holding Xander back as he tried to get at Spike. “We’re not being heartless,” she snapped. “I just … I don’t think … I don’t think Willow would really let herself cry like she needs to in front of us. She’s always been the strong one.”
“Right – the Scooby Rock,” Spike said, his lips pursed. “And her rock is off haring after her mother’s things.”
“Tara’s on her way back, though,” Buffy confirmed.
“So how do we save Red?” Spike asked, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin, expecting Buffy and Xander to protest his involvement.
“Why would you want to help?” Buffy asked, unable to stop the question. “Honestly – you hate us. Why would you want to help?”
Spike took Buffy’s arm gently, pulling her aside. “I have my reasons,” he said in a hushed tone. “I may be an evil bastard, but I pay my debts. Willow gave the group a direction when you were gone … without her and Dawn, I wouldn’t have had a reason to get out of my crypt in the evening. She kept everyone going, and though it pains me to admit it, that includes me. So I owe her.”
“That just may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said,” Buffy said softly.
“Don’t get used to it,” Spike said petulantly. “I’m still evil.”
“You’re the Diet Coke of Evil,” Buffy said with a smirk.
“You take that back! Right now,” Spike insisted.
“Or what?” Buffy shot back. “You’ll glare me to death?”
“Fine,” Spike said tersely. “So how do we help Red?”
“We hit the books,” Buffy said. “Think you can handle sitting still long enough?”
“Whatever it takes.”
Buffy just nodded to Spike, then the others, motioning towards the door with her head. They walked quietly back into the living room, seeing Willow curled up in the chair, Miss Kitty cradled against her chest. Her face was red and puffy from crying as she held the phone and awkwardly dialed with the same hand.
Willow lifted the phone to her ear, sniffling softly. A voice answered, and Willow froze, her eyes going wide. The Scoobies looked on, their concern rising as Willow continued to hold the phone to her ear, her jaw slightly open.
“Tara?” Willow whispered raggedly.
by 'lucy' moore » Fri Feb 22, 2002 3:06 pm
------------------
Caitlin,there are only 3 things that matter...
People you Love,
your Memories,
and Sadness.
fiat justitia,ruat caelum.
by Sheila » Fri Feb 22, 2002 4:41 pm
I couldn't wait for another chapter, so last night I read it all over again... then you give us this emotional chapter today... life is good. 
by Scout » Fri Feb 22, 2002 5:20 pm
This update had so much good stuff: Miss Kitty returning home, Willow trying to deal with the news of her death, Willow beating back the Trickster with her thoughts of Tara, Spike showing concern for Red.
And that cliffhanger was dirty. I hope you plan on another update soon because I’m on the edge of my seat. Fantastic stuff!
by WiccansIllusion » Fri Feb 22, 2002 6:30 pm
by FrenchRose » Fri Feb 22, 2002 7:03 pm
Loving this more and more, and that's saying something,cause I ealy really loved it from the beginning...
Oh, and to add something to Scout's little scenario...you'd be evil if you let them in the desert with no phone,no car, and Anya broke her leg and it got infected and Tara had to cut her leg to save her but all she has is that little pocket-knife... all that with Anya learning the Box had been looted.. and PMS-ing.
Now, that'd be more than semi-evil,that's be downright weevil.
FrenchRose
by Web Warlock » Fri Feb 22, 2002 8:41 pm
Can't wait to see where this is going.
Diet Coke of evil!
Warlock
------------------
Web Warlock
web.warlock@attbi.com webwarlock@planetadnd.com
Author, the Netbooks of Witches and Warlocks
The Other Side: http://www.xtreme-gaming.com/theotherside/
Shadow Earth Games: http://www.rpghost.com/WebWarlock/
The FanCC: http://www.enworld.org/fancc/
--
"What the hell is your problem?" - Ozzy Osbourne to me, Feb. 1996
by Puff » Fri Feb 22, 2002 9:14 pm
More please
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'The cold and ruthless sea tossed the lovers' into the starry black night. together they fall, together they sleep. forever.. forever.. *whisper*forever..the cold and ruthless sea...' By Sweets
by Sassette » Fri Feb 22, 2002 9:53 pm
But first ... my comments on the comments.
**'lucy' - Spike lives by his own rules. He's a complicated kind of guy. Err ... blood-sucking fiend. Err ... guy.
**Sheila - you re-read the whole thing!?!? Holy Schnikeys! I'm WAY flattered that anyone would want to sit through this pain-fest twice.
**Scout - Hugs and Kitties ... *G* Told you I liked 'em. Though I'm surprised no one has mentioned the whole 'The Trickster has been Willow's source since she restored Angel's soul' thing ... did I already reveal that (because I'm too damn tired to go back and read my own fic), or did I manage to gloss over it with the other stuff in that update? As for the cliffhangers - I'm a feedback whore, and I get more responses this way
**W.I. - Here's your smack. Now go play in the street *G*
**FrenchRose - You're right. That >would< be more evil. So, clearly, it's EXACTLY what I should do. More response to that IN the actual text of the update *G* And the 'Diet Coke of Evil' ... has a more perfect phrase ever been uttered? I flippin' love that line.
**Web Warlock - It was >nice< of me to ratchet up the angst? Then I should be canonized for what I'll be doing later.
**Puff - Another 'wow'? Gosh ... And yes, here's more. Just for you
**Pixie - *runs over and gives mouth to mouth resuscitation* You gotta' wake up for the next update!
And now ... the update ... and we'll see if the damn thing will fit in one post with these comments: as it turns out - nope! Sorry for the double-post.
Title: Answering Darkness Part 32 - On the Road Again
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to pink_overalls@yahoo.com
Summary: Anya's cell phone dies, and Spike's car breaks down, stranding the girls on the side of the highway. No, not really - just wondering if anyone reads these summaries. Let's just summarize this one as 'more angst', okay?
Spoiler Warning: Up to and including "Tabula Rasa" in Season 6.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I'm just borrowing them because Season 6 angst is running high, and I want my happy ending now, dammit! So I'm writing it … but it'll be awhile until I get to that part, so bear with me (or "bare" with me if you're naughty).
Rating: PG-13
Notes: For the purpose of this story, all events of Tabula Rasa took place exactly as shown in the series; however, no subsequent episodes will affect this piece. We're splitting from canon here - this was MEANT to be a quick and easy reconciliation fic … but it just didn't turn out that way. Stupid Hell God … Stupid Plot … getting in the way of my snugglies, damnit. Freakin' Angst. Grrrr.
Answering Darkness Part 32
On the Road Again
By Sassette
Tara didn't know what to think, or what to feel, so she just drove. A numbness, startling in its totality, stole over her mind and heart, until she was nothing more than the person operating the machine that would take her closer to her goal. She tried not to think about where she was going and why, because probing that topic caused instant pain so sharp and deep it physically took her breath away.
So she drove on, having no idea how long they had been on the road already that day. She thought hard about the highway, keeping her inner voice quiet … thinking about the road and the lines, and those little reflect-y bumpy things. The hum of the engine, and the slightly static-y feel of the radio - there was nothing else - could be nothing else, without intense, searing pain.
The phone ringing distracted her momentarily, Anya answering it. Anya paused a moment, her gaze shifting over to Tara, then responded to whoever was on the line. "Hi, Xander. Tara's doing okay. We're coming back to Sunnydale as fast as we can."
But that wasn't quite true, Tara thought idly, glancing at the speedometer. Eighty. She let her foot fall a little heavier on the gas pedal. Ninety. She pressed harder. A hundred. She spared a moment to pray that there would be no cops on the road she took back to Sunnydale.
"Of course. Tara's my friend," Anya said, her face shifting subtly in a brief look of pain before she carefully composed her features, trying not to betray the true nature of her conversation. "I consider Willow and Tara both to be my friends. And you take care of Willow, you hear me? You make sure she's fine when we get there. Tara needs her."
Anya hung the phone up silently, nodding with satisfaction as she saw that Tara was moving at a much faster clip. The phone call from Willow had shaken her, making her realize exactly how much the Scoobies stood to lose, should anything happen to the redhead.
"That was Xander," Anya said, wondering if lying to her friend was really as bad as everyone told her it was. Surely, in this situation, when Willow had specifically asked that she not let on that it was her, it was okay?
"I figured," Tara said, her eyes trained straight ahead as they practically flew down the road. Anya looked out the window dejectedly, casting about for something - anything - to say to Tara.
"Say something," Anya finally demanded. "Anything at all. But please, stop just sitting there looking like
she's already gone, because it's unnerving."
"I … I can't," Tara said, her voice raw. "I can't talk right now, Anya."
"Then listen. Did I ever tell you about the time Xander got syphilis?" Anya asked brightly.
"What?" Tara asked, shocked out of her stupor, pathetically grateful for the distraction. "Xander
has syphilis?"
"Oh, no … he only had it temporarily. For about 24 hours, tops?" Anya explained.
"How do you get temporary 24-hour syphilis?" Tara wondered aloud. "That's … that's not possible, is
it?"
"Of course it isn't. But it was a Hellmouth thing," Anya said breezily.
"Ahh … of course," Tara said, nodding in understanding. "But … how does someone get temporary
24-hour syphilis from the Hellmouth?"
"Well, be quiet, and I'll tell you," Anya said with a laugh. "There we were, Buffy and Willow and I … at
the dedication for the knew cultural center at the college."
"Oh, I remember that - didn't they uncover the old Sunnydale Mission during the groundbreaking?" Tara
interrupted.
"That's right. Only, it was more like, Xander uncovered the old Sunnydale Mission during the groundbreaking. He was there with his construction crew, digging. In a tank top. Mmm…" Anya trailed
off, a wicked gleam in her eye. "All … sweaty, and …"
"I get the picture," Tara interrupted, heading off Anya's lust-filled haze in an attempt to get her back
on-topic.
"Oh, right. Well, there he was digging, and then the ground gave way, and he fell into the mission," Anya
said.
"He was the one who fell in? I remember reading about that in the school newspaper," Tara recalled.
"MmmHmm," Anya confirmed. "So, as it turns out, he accidentally unleashed the vengeful power of the
Shumash Tribe. Their 'Justice Spirit' arose, duplicating the horrors they had suffered at the hands of the people colonizing the area."
"But revenge isn't … nice," Tara said with a frown.
"Well, no," Anya hedged, inexplicably feeling a little hurt at Tara's assessment of what had, in effect, been
her profession for a thousand years. "But it's fair. It's always fair," she said. "Except that they hurt Xander," she added with a frown. "I didn't like that part at all. But when they killed the lady in charge
of the cultural center and cut off her ear, and when they hung the priest … that was almost … poetic."
"The spirit did what?" Tara asked.
"Oh, well, some of the tribesman were hung, so the spirit duplicated that. And there was a bounty out on
them … an ear was brought back to prove a kill, so they killed the teacher in charge of the cultural center and cut off her ear," Anya said. "Of course, Willow wanted to find a way of banishing the spirit, or appeasing it, without anymore killing. She figured that was only fair, because they honestly had suffered
so much. Giles was totally against that. It was a spirit that was hurting people, and he wanted it to stop immediately, no matter what they had to do."
"So who won that fight?" Tara asked curiously. She could, in all honesty, see both sides of that argument
as having valid points, though she tended to think Willow's take was … nicer.
"Neither, actually. The spirit realized that Buffy was the greatest warrior in Sunnydale, so it got a bunch of its spirit friends and laid siege to Giles' place. At that point, we didn't really have a chance of figuring out how to appease them. It was either kill them or die," Anya said.
"So how does the syphilis tie into this?" Tara asked after a moment.
"Oh, I left that part out!" Anya said quickly. "Part of what happened to the Shumash involved being stuck
in a mission, and left there for all sorts of diseases to spread. Xander got all of them. He was really, really sick. Syphilis was just one of the diseases."
"Wow … that's … really awful," Tara said. "But it turned out okay, right?"
"Right," Anya said with a happy little nod. "Once they killed all the Shumash spirits, everything cleared right up, so Xander's p-"
"I get it," Tara said wryly. "No need to spell it out."
"But, that's sharing, isn't it? Aren't friends supposed to share?" Anya asked, honestly curious.
"Yes, it's sharing, but some details are private, especially when two people are intimate. That sort of thing is just for you and Xander, so you don't need to tell the rest of us. In fact, when those details are a secret just between the two of you, it makes them more special," Tara answered.
"Hmm … I suspected that was the reason," Anya said after a moment. "But I still don't see it. I certainly don't feel sex with Xander is any less special just because I may happen to mention -"
"Playing 'shiver me timbers'?" Tara asked with a grin.
"Exactly!" Anya said excitedly. "So you understand?"
"Oh, yes, I understand," Tara said. "You don't feel bad about sharing these things, and we're your friends, so you share. It makes perfect sense. It's just that because people generally think of these things as being private, we sometimes feel like it's wrong for us to know, y'know?" she said, trying to convey her thoughts on the subject.
"Does it really bother you?" Anya asked, tilting her head to the side and regarding Tara carefully.
"Mostly, I just think it's funny," Tara said with a little smile, her eyes crinkling up at the corners. "I just … don't want to hear the syphilis details, or the post-syphilis all-cleared-up-details," she admitted.
"Deal. But I can still make inappropriate comments at inappropriate times without making you angry, right?" Anya pressed, needing to be reassured that this woman, who was really the best friend she had, wasn't actually offended by her behavior.
"No - that will never make me mad," Tara said.
"So now it's your turn to share details," Anya said eagerly. "Did Willow ever have any funny diseases?" she asked, then went on before Tara could comment. "Of course, the only other person she was ever with
was Oz, and I don't think he ever had anything. Well, except for the lycanthropy, and that can only be
passed through biting. But on the other hand, it's possible he could have bitten her during sex, but she'd be a werewolf now. And if she were a werewolf, she wouldn't have broken up with Oz, because that's why they broke up in the first place. But on the other hand - am I running out of hands? - I think that if Willow had met you while Oz was still in the picture, she still would have chosen you, eventually."
"I … really? You think so?" Tara asked, the warm glow she got at the end of Anya's ramblings making up for the things she had said earlier on. While she certainly didn't want to think of 'Oz', 'biting' and 'sex' at the same time, let alone at the same time as 'Willow', the idea that Willow would have chosen her anyway warmed her all the way through.
"Oh, definitely," Anya said. "It would have been a lot harder for Willow, and she wouldn't have let anything actually happen while she was with Oz, but she would have eventually broken up with him to be
with you."
"I was … I was so surprised when she chose me. Even after everything we had done together, I never thought - I always thought that if Oz came back, or if another boy showed any interest…" Tara said, her voice trailing off as she remembered that magical night when Willow had chosen her.
"So you didn't think Willow was serious about the two of you?" Anya questioned.
"Well, how could I? I mean, we knew each other for such a long time before you all even knew I existed. We started kissing before that, and … I just kind of thought that, well, she liked me well enough, as a person - but I never actually though that she was in love with me. It was … the best surprise of my life,"
Tara said.
"I remember the look on your face when Oz walked in," Anya remembered. "You looked like … you'd had your guts ripped out … and I would know, because I've seen lots of people who'd had their guts ripped out."
"That's what it felt like," Tara said softly. "It was like … I couldn't breathe anymore, and I just … I had
to be anywhere but there. But the worst was when Willow came over before she had made up her mind. We talked, and from the things she said, I was completely sure I was going to lose her. Then she came over
later. It was nighttime, and I was alone, curled up on my bed, just hoping I would fall asleep and the pain would stop for the night, knowing that neither one would happen. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw them together, and I just… I wanted it to stop."
"And then?" Anya asked.
"I heard a knock at the door, so I made my way over. Half-hoping, half-afraid that it was Willow. Certainly, no one else ever came to my room, y'know? But I opened the door, and she was standing there with a lit candle in her hands," Tara reminisced, a faint smile edging her features.
"Candles are very romantic," Anya said knowledgably.
"Mmm," Tara agreed. "So she came in, and I was still sure she was going to break up with me to be with Oz. Not that we were officially together or anything, but still. I felt like she was breaking up with me. But this tiny little glimmer of hope kinda' grew inside me, which, in a way, made me feel worse, because I knew that when she crushed that, I wouldn't have anything left."
"But she didn't, right? I mean, she chose you right then?" Anya asked, unsure of exactly when everything had happened.
"She did," Tara said, a beatific smile lighting up her features. "She tried to explain, and I stammered something about how I understood, and that she needed to be with the one she loved. And then she said that she was, and … I felt my heart stop. And then when it started beating again, I knew in that moment that from that day on, it would beat for her."
"I bet Xander never says those kinds of things about me when I'm not around," Anya muttered quietly enough so as not to break into Tara's story.
"I thought I knew what it was to love her before, but after that moment, I lost every piece of myself. Still, there was a part of me that couldn't believe. So I kinda' said, 'you mean … ?' and I trailed off, chickening out. And she just nodded and said that she did, and then she said she'd make it up to me, starting right then. And then I blew out the candle," Tara said, her eyes aglow with warmth and love.
"And >then< you had sex!" Anya said triumphantly.
"W-we made love, yes," Tara confirmed, a blush crawling up her neck.
"So how was it?" Anya asked eagerly.
"I -" Tara started to say, unsure of whether or not she should even bother answering this question. Would Anya let it go if she said it was none of her business. "It was … amazing," she said with a helpless little shrug. "I mean, neither one of us had any idea what to do … with a woman and all, and … so we just kinda' … took it real slow. All night." Tara's blush grew as she remembered that night, and how shy and tentative they were. Still, it was as though Willow knew just how to touch her, and where, to drive her wild. And Willow had been so responsive, her groans and cute little squeaks filling the room as Tara loved her.
"All night?" Anya squeaked. "Xander can't go all night! That's not fair!"
"Then maybe you should have hooked up with Willow," Tara said with a laugh.
"But I like Xander's penis. Willow doesn't >have< a penis," she complained.
"Well, then it's a trade-off," Tara said with a smirk, even as she thought 'Thank the Goddess.'
"Hmph," Anya said, bouncing against the seat back and crossing her arms. "I want both. I want Xander's penis with Willow's stamina."
Tara blinked once, then blinked again. She chewed the inside of her lip, then bit her tongue. "No comment," she finally said, staring straight ahead at the road.
"What?" Anya demanded, turning in her seat to face the driver. "You have something to say, so out with it!"
"I've forgotten what it was," Tara said airily.
"That's just not fair," Anya whined, her shoulders slumping.
"You're right. It's not," Tara agreed, unwilling to share.
"Fine," Anya said, realizing she was getting nowhere fast. "Now what do we talk about?" she wondered aloud.
"What's with the bunny thing?" Tara finally asked. "Seriously … what's scary about bunnies?"
"What's not scary about bunnies?" Anya asked. "They're truly vicious creatures. You honestly have no idea."
"But that's just it … none of us have any idea. We all think bunnies are cute," Tara said.
"That's because you can't see it. I mean, how can you miss the teeth, and the way they hippity-hop? No natural creature of this world should be able to move like that. They're cunning and mean, and the damage they can do is … unspeakable," Anya finished with a shiver. "And could we not discuss bunnies when driving all alone on a deserted highway at night?" she asked. "This is giving me the creeps. I mean, next thing you know, the car is going to break down, my cell phone battery will die, and we'll be surrounded by desert bunnies bent on destruction. Then I'll be wounded in the leg," she went on, her agitation clearly visible as she squirmed in her seat. "It'll get infected, and you'll have to cut it off, and we only have a pocket knife, and while we're gone, the shop will get broken into, and I'm going to start PMS'ing any day now!"
"Where do you come up with this stuff?" Tara asked, a look of puzzled awe on her face.
"Well, it could happen," Anya said defensively. "And do you see what the bunnies do to me? They instill fear and panic and bizarre scenarios. We just need to add in the Initiative figuring out that I was a demon and deciding to do tests on me and parachuting in a unit, and it will be the worst night of my human life!"
"Okay," Tara said with a puzzled nod. "I can see now how bunnies are clearly evil and dangerous, so let's not speak of such things anymore."
"Good," Anya said.
They drove in silence, distracting thoughts of bunnies only keeping Tara busy for a few more moments before her thoughts turned inevitably to Willow. Sweet, smart, cute, funny Willow, who ran towards danger and forgave betrayals and stood up to mean fathers and brothers, all without knowing the full story. Willow, who loved her, and needed her, and was trying so hard to get clean.
Willow who was dying.
She had avoided the thought, chasing it away when it tried to seep into her brain, but she couldn't fight it off any longer. Willow was dying. Silent tears tracked down her face, even as a fierce resolve filled her.
Willow was dying.
Not if she could help it.
There had to be something - anything - that she could do. She couldn't sit back and watch the love of her life die, no matter what crazy things had come between them. She would defend Willow with her last breath if need be, or storm Hell itself and demand The Trickster let her go.
Her hands tightened on the wheel, until her knuckles glowed white in the night. She wouldn't let it happen. She would stop it. It couldn't happen - it was unthinkable. A world without Willow in it? How could she live in such a world? Why would she want to?
No matter the pain Willow had caused her, no matter the shaky state of their relationship, the fact remained: Willow was a part of her, and she was a part of Willow. If Willow were taken away, she knew that what was left of her wouldn't be worth a thing. Breathing hurt just thinking about it - she couldn't imagine what the actual loss would do to her.
"How fast does this thing go?" she muttered, pressing down harder on the gas. One-ten. One-twenty. The car began to shake a little, but held, and Tara kept it there, tearing through the night as if the denizens of hell were on her heels.
But she was going towards those denizens, because they had their claws in Willow, and she had to stop them.
"Tara?" Anya asked uncertainly, glancing at the speedometer.
"Yes?" Tara said tightly.
"We're, uhh … going kind of fast …" Anya offered up hesitantly.
"I know," Tara said, her face set in determined lines.
"We're not going to stop tonight, are we?" Anya finally asked after a few more minutes of silence, as the miles ticked away.
"No, we're not," Tara confirmed.
Anya merely nodded, letting the seat back and closing her eyes, getting comfortable. "Wake me up in three hours or so," she said calmly. "This road isn't very bendy, so I'll take a turn tonight. If you drive for two days straight, we're not going to make it."
"You can't drive," Tara pointed out, glancing at the ex-demon.
"I've done nothing but watch you drive for about three days," Anya said. "I think I have it figured out. And while I might not feel comfortable driving as fast as you, you can get some sleep, and we'll still be making better time than we would when I insist we stop so you can rest."
"Fine," Tara said tersely. "Three hours."
Anya nodded, satisfied with the response, and let herself drift off into sleep. Tara let the darkness and the quiet settle around her like a comfortable blanket. She needed that … she needed the feeling of solitude to let her emotions have free reign.
Love for Willow was the foremost, and the most familiar. It had been the prevalent feeling in her life for so long, it was like it lived in her skin, or in her very blood. It was as much a part of her as her blue eyes.
Then there was the pain at the thought of losing Willow. That felt different, but familiar. She was used to worrying about Willow - as a Scooby, Willow was constantly exposed to danger. But this - this wasn't the same. That had been a nebulous vague worry. Vampires. Demons. Stubbed toes. She loved Willow, and so she worried. But this - this certainty that, as things stood - unless something was changed - Willow was going to die? That feeling unsettled her, set her teeth on edge, and sent sharp daggers of pain lancing towards her heart.
But it was the anger that she was ashamed of, and why she needed the comfort of solitude. She couldn't let anyone know about the anger. She was so mad - at Willow, at herself, at the whole world - that she didn't know how she was holding back the screams. But she did hold them back. Mustn't wake Anya. Mustn't let her see.
Tara let these feelings roll around inside her as she drove, pushing the car to its limits, she assumed. For all she really knew, this car could do twice this speed, but she couldn't risk it. Her need to be by Willow's side quickly was tempered by her need to arrive in one piece. She certainly couldn't do Willow any good if she managed to get herself killed on the way home.
Though it was the anger that made her ashamed, it was that feeling that scared her - the feeling that it might not be so bad if she died tonight. That way, she wouldn't have to watch as Willow slowly died, day by day, growing weaker and angrier as the Dark Magick seeped into her blood. She wouldn't have to watch those green eyes she loved so much shade to black as Willow fought the urge to just cast one last spell. She wouldn't have to watch Willow take her last shaking breath.
But no - that was the coward's way out. Willow was still alive, and she needed Tara now more than ever. As attractive as the idea was of waiting for Willow to arrive in the afterlife, instead of waiting for Willow to leave in this one, she knew she couldn't do that. She would see Willow again, in this life, and she would fight for her, and as long as there was that last shred of hope, she'd keep fighting. Her heart wouldn't let her do otherwise.
[This message has been edited by Sassette (edited February 23, 2002).]
by Sassette » Fri Feb 22, 2002 9:56 pm
"Anya," she said, gently shaking the sleeping form in the seat next to her.
"Huh? Wha'?" Anya said, rubbing her bleery eyes.
"Do you still want to take a turn?" Tara said, the emotional toll of the day finally catching up with her, making her realize how exhausted she was, now that the car had stopped.
Anya nodded. "Let me just …" she said, opening the door to the cold night, her eyes popping open. "Cold! Cold!" she exclaimed, releasing her seatbelt and jumping out of the car, hopping up and down. "Okay … I'm awake!" she declared, huddling up slamming the door, running over to the driver's side.
Tara unlocked the door, wearily crawling into the other seat, her limbs feeling heavy and awkward. She was stiff and sore, and her back and her leg ached. Why hadn't she noticed these things before?
"Because Willow is dying, and they're completely unimportant," she whispered bleakly, answering her own question as Anya slipped into the car.
"Okay," Anya said, taking a deep breath and releasing it. Smoothly, she pressed down on the brake pedal, then released the parking brake. She checked the mirrors, seeing no headlights - which wasn't surprising, because she couldn't remember the last car they had seen - then eased out onto the road, her motions a little jerky, but quickly smoothing out. "There - this isn't so hard," she said, taking one hand off the wheel to rub the sleep out of her eyes and drifting into the other lane.
"Both hands," Tara said quickly, making Anya jump.
"Right," Anya said. "Both hands on the wheel," she muttered under her breath, settling in for the long drive. She eased the car up to forty, feeling as though she were driving way too fast. "This is so weird," she mused. "I'm going one third the speed you were, but I feel like … it's really >really< fast. Why didn't it feel this fast when you were driving?" she asked.
"Because it's different when you're the one driving. You're more aware of what the car is actually doing," Tara mumbled, settling into the seat and letting her heavy eyelids drift shut. "It makes sense when you … think .. about it," she muttered, drifting off into an exhausted sleep, even as she finished speaking.
Anya nodded with satisfaction, looking over at the sleeping form. "Okay," she said to herself. "I'm driving a car. This is a big responsibility. But I've leveled cities and destroyed kingdoms. This shouldn't be too tough."
Tentatively, she eased up to fifty.
The miles ticked by, Anya experimentally increasing her speed as she grew more comfortable behind the wheel. She had a few bad moment when the road turned, but she managed to navigate the twists without waking Tara or killing them, so she considered it a success, even if she did have to cross that annoying double-yellow line. Who made that rule, anyway? What did it matter if she crossed the line when the road was all empty?
She relaxed into her drive and her musings about the idiocy of traffic laws, content to follow the road and let Tara sleep. She was worried. Tara had taken quite an emotional beating the last week, and now with this Willow thing on top of it? It was amazing to Anya that Tara was still standing. Not that she was standing, or was even conscious, but she meant that in the metaphoric sense. Only the deep shadows and slight lines of tension around her eyes and mouth spoke of Tara's worries.
Still, Tara was clearly exhausted to anyone who knew her. The fact that she had driven so late into the night showed her strength and determination. She hoped, for her own sake as well as Tara's, that the Scoobies would pull off another miracle, and save Willow.
The sharp chirp of the phone startled Tara out of her uneasy dreams, and she reached automatically for the glove box, popping it open and picking up the phone. Anya had jumped a little in her seat, inadvertently pressing on the gas and making the car shoot forward, but regaining control of both herself and the car after just a moment.
"Hello?" Tara said, her voice groggy with sleep. Silence greeted her on the other end of the phone, and she sat up, frowning. "Hello?" she asked again, and still only silence greeted her. A strange feeling settled into her stomach. "Willow?" she said tentatively.
"Tara?" Willow asked back, her voice a ragged whisper.
"Willow, baby?" Tara said, sitting up ramrod straight, her voice urgent and pleading. "I'm coming home, sweetheart. You hang on for me," she said, her voice breaking.
"I should be okay for a few weeks," Willow answered, her voice shaky. "I … I need you," she said, the words coming through the line as if they had been torn out of the depths of Willow's heart without her permission and passed on to Tara. "I- I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I … I don't have the right to -"
"You have every right," Tara said fiercely. "No matter what else is going on, I love you." Tara bit her lip, trying to hold back her own tears as Willow's quiet sobs echoed over the phone line. "Don't cry, baby," she said softly. "Please don't cry. I'm going to get there as soon as I can."
"I just … oh, God, I needed to hear that so badly," Willow managed to get out. "I love you so much, Tara … and I'm so sorry that I … that I let it all get this bad."
"None of that matters," Tara said quickly. "Just concentrate on staying well - on figuring out how we're going to save you, because I refuse to let you -" She couldn't finish the sentence.
"Die," Willow said starkly. "The word is 'die'."
"Don't you say that," Tara said, her voice choked. "You are >not< going to die, do you hear me?" she demanded. "I might need time, or space, but … baby, there's nothing I couldn't forgive you, do you understand that? Except this. If you die on me, I … I don't know if I could ever forgive you that," Tara said, her own sobs making her words hard to understand.
"You can't mean that," Willow said, her voice catching. "After what I did - how could you forgive me?"
"Because I love you, and it was a mistake," Tara said. "It was a stupid, hurtful mistake, but it was still a mistake. A bad judgement call. But you've learned your lesson, sweetheart. I have too," she finished on a broken whisper. "I think … I think we've both learned far too much from this one," she said, getting a mirthless laugh from Willow.
"I have learned my lesson, Tara … I swear it to you," Willow said. "I … I look back now, and I can't … I can't believe how utterly wrong I was. I can't believe that I would do such a thing, to you of all people."
They both fell silent, each listening to the other breathing on the line, taking comfort in the fact that the other was there, if only over the phone.
"Miss Kitty says hi," Willow finally said with a sniffle after several long moments.
"Miss Kitty?" Tara asked, her brow furrowing.
"S-Spike found her," Willow sobbed. "She's okay, but she's a kitten again," she said, forcing the words pass the tightness in her throat. "Hear her purr?" Tara heard the sound of the phone moving, then the distinctive rumble of a purring kitten. She couldn't help but smile when she heard the sound. "Baby?" Willow asked, when she brought the phone back to her ear.
"I'm here," Tara confirmed, a watery smile on her face. "Put Miss Kitty back on," she requested.
"I'll hold her up so we can both hear," Willow offered, the sound of Willow's breathing and Miss Kitty's purrs reaching Tara's hearing, bringing back sweet memories of lazy mornings past.
"Miss Kitty? You take good care of your mommy Willow until I get there, okay?" Tara softly requested, wiping at her eyes. "You give her lots of love and attention for me, all right?"
"She's nodding her little kitten head," Willow said, and Tara could hear the smile in her voice.
"Good. I trust Miss Kitty to know how to take proper care of you," Tara said.
"I should … I should get back to the research," Willow finally said, her voice sad and lost. "We've found out a few things, but … not enough."
"Not enough, yet," Tara said, stressing the last word. "We'll get past this, baby, I swear it."
"I don't wanna' hang up," Willow said, sniffling again.
"I don't want to either," Tara said, holding the phone like a lifeline. "But baby … I'll be there as soon as I can, I promise. And you have to do the research. We have to find a way to fix this, because I refuse to let you go."
"I love you, baby," Willow said again, needing to express what was in her heart. "More than anything … I - I don't have the words to tell you -"
"I already know," Tara said. "Because it's how much I love you."
They both sat in silence for a moment, taking comfort in their brief connection before each disconnected their phones, neither willing to say 'good-bye'.
by ForeverPiper » Fri Feb 22, 2002 10:20 pm
[This message has been edited by ForeverPiper (edited February 23, 2002).]
by Sassette » Fri Feb 22, 2002 10:50 pm
*shrug* Tomorrow's a Saturday.
-Sass
***edited to add: Sorry ... that was, as it turns out, a cruel trick. Me tired. Me going to sleep soon. Screen blurry.***
[This message has been edited by Sassette (edited February 23, 2002).]
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