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I can't do this.
We can do this.
-Willow and Tara from The Body
by TheFire » Sun Nov 18, 2001 11:09 pm
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I can't do this.
We can do this.
-Willow and Tara from The Body
by Sassette » Mon Nov 19, 2001 12:36 am
Can you tell I'm a little anxious to get to the happy reunion bits? Anyway, don't know when I'll post again, so enjoy.
*muttering* 8 parts in two and a half days. I'll NEVER be able to keep that up.
Title: Answering Darkness Part 8 – Demons
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to pink_overalls@yahoo.com
Summary: Spike watches over Willow and Xander as they walk.
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. For language. And snuggles.
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 8
Demons
By Sassette
“Now I’m the bleedin’ errand boy,” Spike muttered, watching in disgust as Willow and Xander stopped yet again on their walk to have a nice little chat. “Blasted sun will be up soon enough, if these two don’t start walking.”
Hefting their boxes, Xander and Willow kept going, talking about Tara again, no doubt. Spike followed along, keeping his distance and a sharp eye out, like Buffy had asked him.
“I’m love’s bitch, all right,” he grumbled unhappily. He knew – oh, he knew that Buffy was keeping him on a string, but something kept him coming back again and again. Something made him want – no, need – to be there for her, despite her mixed signals and harsh words. “Of all the demons that had to set itself up where my soul used to be, it had to be a masochist, didn’t it?” he railed, looking heavenward and frowning.
As if in answer, a light drizzle began.
“Brilliant. Bloody brilliant,” Spike muttered, hurrying up to catch the Scoobies who were now jogging with their last load of boxes down the last block to the Rosenberg home.
Later, Spike would swear there had been no warning. There had, in fact, been none.
One moment, he was following along, and the next, Xander was down, an ugly snarling demon parked on his chest trying to rip out his throat.
Game face in place, Spike ran, knowing Buffy would never forgive him if anything hurt these two on his watch.
“No!” Willow screamed, dropping her box, her eyes shifting color, becoming bottomless pools of black. The monster – demon? – whatever it was, it paused, turning to look at Willow.
With a low growl, Spike launched himself at the creature, fangs bared, tackling him off of Xander and allowing the young man to roll free. Xander stood awkwardly, watching as Spike traded blows with the demon.
They fought furiously, and Xander moved into position to attack the creature from behind. A low droning sounded in his ears, making his head buzz. Dazedly, he shook his head, trying to clear it, waiting for his opening to help Spike.
Willow watched, her face as stone as Spike and the monster fought. Her hands raised, called the very darkness of night into herself, before hurling it at the creature with all of her might. “Destroy,” she commanded, the thrill of power shooting up and down her spine.
The dark energy hit the creature, and it shuddered once, before redoubling its efforts, fighting Spike back, and eventually knocking him off his feet.
“No!” Willow called again, rushing to Spike’s side and turning to face the creature. It looked at her, its horrible face so alien and strange, Willow could discern no expression on its features. Anger? Rage? Hate? What was it thinking?
With a great shudder, Willow called to the darkness again, gathering it into herself, collecting it carefully as the creature continued to stand. It seemed to cock its head to the side in a gesture that looked like it was trying to figure out exactly what Willow was doing. Did it find Willow’s face as strange as she had found its face? Was it trying to figure out what she was thinking?
“Begone!” Willow intoned, releasing the magic she had gathered in a primal rush. The creature shuddered again, raising its arms to the sky and letting out a great bellow, before turning and running into the night.
Spike watched the creature go, turning a wary eye on the black-eyed witch next to him. “You can calm down, Red. It’s gone,” he commented, standing gingerly and brushing himself off.
“What was that?” Xander asked slowly.
“I have no idea,” Spike admitted, squinting after it. “But it better run,” he called out. “Because if I see it again, I’ll give it more of the same.”
“You’ll let it kick your ass some more?” Xander asked.
“Oh, big words from the spider-eating man-bitch,” Spike taunted, smirking at Xander. “It knocked you for a right loop.”
“Both of you, stop it,” Willow said, looking into the night where the thing had run, her face pale and still.
“Hey, Will, you okay?” Xander asked, moving to her side. Willow closed her eyes briefly, trying to get her nerve endings to settle. No longer harnessing that power, she was left with a familiar tingly, kind of floaty feeling.
“You’re bleeding, Red,” Spike pointed out, his nose picking up the sharp tang of blood before his eyes had seen it in the dark.
“I – what -?” Willow said, suddenly feeling something warm and wet on her upper lip. She lifted a hand, touching it gingerly before pulling it away and staring at her fingers like she had never seen them before.
“Hey, hey!” Xander said, beginning to worry about the lack of reaction in Willow. “Come on, Willow. Say something.”
“What was it?” Willow asked dazedly, her pupils dilated and her gaze unfocused.
“We don’t know,” Xander said, nodding emphatically. “But we’ll find out.”
“Right, then,” Spike said, pursing his lips in irritation and picking up a box. “Guess I have to carry this, as Red’s in no shape for any heavy lifting.”
“Uh … thanks, Spike,” Xander said uncertainly, picking up the other box.
Spike and Xander set off towards the Rosenberg home, taking several steps before realizing Willow wasn’t following.
“Wills?” Xander called back, his face full of concern.
“Huh? Oh! Yeah,” Willow said absently, walking after them, her steps unsteady.
“That was quite a show,” Spike said conversationally.
“Yeah, Willow – umm… what did you do to that thing?” Xander asked.
“I just threw some power at it. Y’know – hit it with the magicy goodness?” Willow said, her words slightly garbled.
Spike sniffed reflectively. “It seemed to get stronger when you threw that first volley at it.”
“It – what?” Willow asked, turning confused unfocused eyes on the vampire.
“Your first bit of ‘magicy goodness’ made it stronger, I said,” Spike repeated dutifully.
“Oh, yeah. Maybe,” Willow managed, waving a lazy hand in the air. The street lamp overhead blinked once, then twice, then went out completely as they passed.
“Umm … Spike?” Xander asked, sidling up to the vampire and lowering his voice.
“Yes?”
“Is this … uh … worrying you?”
“No, not really. I mean, if Red goes loony and zaps us into oblivion, I don’t have to deal with this bleedin’ chip anymore.”
“That’s comforting,” Xander said.
“We need a Scooby meeting!” Willow suddenly exclaimed, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, making Spike and Xander stop up short to keep from running her over. Willow walked on, marching up the driveway to her parents’ house. “We should call one right away.”
“Umm, Willow, actually …” Xander said, searching for an excuse. “We sorta’.”
“What Xander means to say,” Spike said, cutting in smoothly. “Is that everyone’s at the hospital and worried about Dawn, so we’ll have the Scooby meeting tomorrow night. Right?”
“Yes, that’s exactly it,” Xander said, nodding gratefully.
“So,” Spike went on, “you toddle off to the hospital, and I’ll make sure Red gets settled.”
“I don’t think –“ Xander began, reluctant to leave Willow alone with the vampire.
“It’s not like I’ll bite her,” Spike said to Xander in a low voice as Willow unlocked the front door. “Got that chip, remember? I’ll just keep an eye on her and make sure nothing else happens tonight, and you let the other Scoobies know.”
“If you try anything,” Xander warned in a low voice, leveling what he hoped was an intimidating glare.
“No need to worry,” Spike said, gesturing with his head for Xander to precede him into the house. “I know Buffy’d stake me something but good if I tried anything. Besides,” he said, his hands bumping into the open space where the threshold of the house lay. He gave Xander an impatient look.
“Oh, Dear Spike,” Xander said grandly. “Won’t you please come in?”
“Bugger off,” Spike said, stepping into the house and letting the box drop heavily onto the floor. “As I was saying, I like Red’s bird, and she’s still sweet on her, so …” At that he trailed off, shrugging and stepping over the box he had left lying there and looking around the house with a curious air. “Red grew up here, eh? Figures.”
Willow wandered up the stairs, leaning heavily on the banister. Xander sighed heavily and gave Spike an irritated look before leaving the boxes and hurrying to help Willow navigate the steps. Spike wandered into the room a few moments later, grinning wickedly and letting out a cutesy, “Aww, now isn’t that a picture?” as Xander tucked Willow into bed.
“Xander?” Willow said sleepily, her eyes drooping heavily.
“Yeah, Will?” Xander whispered, ignoring Spike who sighed heartily and rolled his eyes, flopping into a chair and propping his feet up on the desk.
“I forgive you. It’s okay you stole my Barbie. You can keep her,” Willow said generously before rolling over and falling completely asleep.
“You stole her Barbie?” Spike muttered. “And I thought >I< was an evil bastard.”
Xander said nothing, moving over to the windows and closing the curtains. “There. You’re all set. If you need anything, we’ll be at my place, Buffy’s, or the hospital.”
“No, really?” Spike asked. “You sure you won’t take a little vacation to Siam?”
“Look, Spike. No jokes right now, okay? You can be an asshole later. Right now, just keep an eye on Willow.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll watch Red. Hope she doesn’t snore.”
Wondering if leaving Spike with Willow was really such a good idea, Xander left the house, locking it carefully behind him and heading back to the hospital at a brisk jog.
Something was happening to Willow. He didn’t know what, he didn’t know how … come to think of it, he didn’t really know where or why either. Just who. And he was worried. Very, very worried. The weird magicy nosebleeds, the strange behavior, mood swings, defensiveness. It was almost as if …
“Xander!”
“Tara,” Xander said, spotting the woman sitting across the waiting room. He jogged over and sat next to her, giving himself a moment to catch his breath. “Dawn still all right?”
“Yes, they think she’s going to be fine. They just want to keep her until tomorrow for observation, then they’re letting her come home. Buffy and Anya are in with her now. I was in there earlier.”
Xander nodded, relieved that something looked like it was going to turn out okay tonight. “Look, Tara … something happened,” Xander began.
All the color drained out of Tara’s face and her eyes grew wide. “Oh, Goddess, is it Willow? Is she all right?” she asked, standing up.
“She’s fine,” Xander said encouragingly, tugging on Tara’s hand to get her to sit down. “She’s fine, I think.”
“You think? You don’t know?” Tara started in again, moving to stand, only to have Xander pull her back into her seat.
“Will you let me finish?” Xander asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tara said, settling for wringing her hands nervously in her lap.
“We got attacked,” Xander started to say, only to be interrupted again by a worried Tara.
“Was she hurt? Did something hurt her?” she asked urgently, her stomach dropping at the idea of anything harming her Willow.
“Look, she wasn’t hurt … the thing didn’t even get near her,” Xander said, trying again. “We were attacked by something. We were just walking along, and everything was fine, when I was knocked down and this thing was sitting on me trying to give me a new opening to breathe through,” he said, trying to use words that wouldn’t panic Tara further. “Spike showed up and knocked it off of me. Spike fought the thing, and Willow cast a spell. Spike claims that whatever Willow did, it made the thing stronger. I don’t know,” Xander said, shrugging. He noted the conflicting emotions traveling across Tara’s face and pressed on, seeing that she was content to remain silent for now. “Anyway, she cast another spell, and it ran off.”
“But – she’s all right?” Tara asked softly. She was appalled to find that any story involving Willow casting a spell made her angry, and she felt guilty that the spell in question had been used to keep Willow safe. At the same time, she was totally relieved to hear that the demon hadn’t injured Willow at all.
“Mostly. She got a nosebleed, her steps were shaky. She seemed kind of out of it, really. Really unfocused, like she wasn’t exactly hearing or seeing what was going on around her.”
“She didn’t hit her head or anything, did she?” Tara asked, moving to stand again.
“No, she didn’t hit her head. The only thing she did was throw around some magic. Nothing touched her.”
“I – I should be there,” Tara said, standing up and pacing. “I need t – to see her. I have to make sure she’s okay.”
Xander groaned, then stood. “All right,” he sighed. “Let’s head back over there.”
“N-no, you can stay here,” Tara said. “You need to tell Buffy and Anya what happened.”
“That thing is still out there,” Xander protested.
“I can handle it. I just … I just need to see Willow. I’ll be all right, I promise,” Tara said, squeezing Xander’s arm reassuringly before dashing for the door.
Tara made her way to the Rosenberg residence, her heart clenching at every step. “Please be okay, Willow,” she whispered aloud, her words punctuated by her shoes plodding against the pavement. She hadn’t meant anything like this to happen. Had leaving really been the right thing? Dawn was in the hospital, Willow was hurt, and none of them had gotten any sleep that night. Was this all her fault?
“No,” she said, quickening her steps. It wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t forced Dawn to cast a spell that was too much for her – would, in fact, have argued against it. Nor was she the reason a demon had attacked Xander and Willow. Still, if she had only given Willow one more chance, none of it would have happened.
And really, didn’t she want to give Willow another chance? Didn’t she want everything to be right between them again? Yes, she did, but people couldn’t always have what they wanted. That’s one of the things she had learned growing up.
Hadn’t her family taught her that? To get used to disappointment? They had, but she had been so sure that things would be different this time – that, free of the demon she had lived with all her life, she could be happy.
Shaking her head, she looked up to see that she had arrived and was standing in the middle of the sidewalk in front of Willow’s house. She walked up to the door, her hand trembling as she raised it to ring the bell. She waited just a few moments before the door swung open, and Spike was standing there.
“Well, now,” he said, smiling. “Guess I get to go back to me crypt. I’ll just leave you two lovebirds alone,” he said, pointing up the stairs to indicate where Willow was.
“W-we broke up,” Tara said softly, stepping into the house past Spike.
“Oh, I know that,” Spike said. “Red’s been pretty maudlin this evening. In any event, circumstances don’t change how you feel. Love’s funny like that – it sticks around when it would be easier to go away.”
Spike smiled brightly as Tara just gaped at him. Since when was Spike such a philosopher?
“I’ll just toddle off. Good night.”
Tara stood a moment, stunned, as Spike left, closing the door behind him. Shaking her head, she climbed the stairs quickly, then slowing down to quietly open Willow’s door. Peeking in, she saw Willow sleeping peacefully.
She slipped into the room, closing the door gently behind her, wondering why she was here at all. Willow whimpered in her sleep, turning fitfully. That was why. Because Willow was hurting, and she didn’t have the strength to stay away. She had the strength to stand up for herself, the strength to hurt Willow if necessary, but Goddess help her, nowhere in her entire being was there the strength to stand idly by while the world hurt her Willow.
She took off her shoes and skirt automatically, sliding under the covers and gathering Willow up into her arms, and Willow settled down, mumbling happily. Gently, she stroked Willow’s hair, humming a little tune her mother used to sing to her softly before drifting off to sleep.
by TrueXena » Mon Nov 19, 2001 1:02 am
GREAT JOB! Cant wait for the next part.
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Later dayz,
TrueXena
"I'm so evil, and skanky...and I think I'm kinda gay."
by mollyig » Mon Nov 19, 2001 5:40 am
mollyig be hooked!
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Willow: And I happen to think mine is the level head, and yours is the one things would roll off of.
by Web Warlock » Mon Nov 19, 2001 5:54 am
You got Spike down to a T! I could just see him pestering Will till she did something. If anyone knows anything about this situation from experience it would be Spike. "Love's bitch", that was great.
Loved the bit about Anya being put-out, not because Tara was staying, but because she had promised to help plan the wedding!
Great job also on the Dawn-casts-a-spell part. It seems exactly like something that would happen.
Loved the Xander interactions with Tara and Willow. Glad that you are a fan of "The Zeppo". I really enjoy seeing more Tara-Xander interaction (but not X/T fics!).
I could tell you were going off into other storylines after Buffy's and Willow's conversation at the hospital.
Got some personal theories about your demon. See there is high-praise, I have *theories* about your fic!
Great job, looking forward to more!
Warlock
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Web Warlock
web.warlock@home.com webwarlock@planetadnd.com
Author, the Netbooks of Witches and Warlocks
The Other Side: http://www.xtreme-gaming.com/~theotherside/
The DnD Community Council: http://www.dndcommunitycouncil.org/nbownw
--
"It could be witches, Some evil witches.
Which is ridiculous, 'Cause witches, they were persecuted Wicca good and love the earth
And women power and I'll be over here."
by Shaniezak » Mon Nov 19, 2001 10:37 am
Sassette, you know I love you, right? For more reasons than just this fic, of course, but at the moment? This fic is the main motivation for my saying so.
*mwah*
*mwah*by Sassette » Mon Nov 19, 2001 12:00 pm
And Shaniezak, dear *mwah* to you, too ... but *whining* why can't anyone love me for my BODY? Why do they always want my mind?
Oh, and Web Warlock - if you've got a theory - share, share! I adore the idea of people thinking that much about something I'm writing ... any guesses, theories, wildly improbably speculations ... I would dearly love to hear all that stuff. This goes for all y'all. But if y'all are the shy type, you could email me privately instead of posting it here, though it'd be neeat to see people discussing such things on this forum.
And finally: Sadly, no, it's not bunnies. Though I was considering it!
-Sassette
PS Okay, so that WASN'T quite the final thing I had to say. There will be an update tonight. For those in odd time zones, it'll probably be 10-12 hours from now.
by TrueXena » Mon Nov 19, 2001 11:36 pm
So um..Sassette? We gonna see that next part anytime soon?
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Later dayz,
TrueXena
"I'm so evil, and skanky...and I think I'm kinda gay."
by Sassette » Mon Nov 19, 2001 11:53 pm
Title: Answering Darkness Part 9 - Habits
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to pink_overalls@yahoo.com
Summary: It's sensitive chat time for the Scooby Gang
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. For language.
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 9
Habits
By Sassette
Spike let out a sigh of relief as he escaped the Rosenberg home. It was more a force of habit than anything else, and one he had never really tried to break. Of course, Spike wasn't one for breaking habits, bad or otherwise, and so he decided her really didn't care.
Shrugging his shoulders to loosen the tension, he started walking. He honestly had no idea where he was going or what he was going to do. He'd had his suspicions, and now he knew. The question was, what to do with that knowledge? Keeping it to himself was dangerous, but telling Buffy posed its own dangers, largely of the wooden and pointy variety.
Not that he'd really done anything wrong. Force of habit, like the cigarette in his hand he couldn't recall lighting. He walked quickly, if aimlessly, his agitated state propelling him forward as he argued with himself.
Would Buffy really stake him for a taste? That's all it had been - he'd just dabbed his finger in and taken a little taste. And where was the harm in that.
"Of course, she's just looking for an excuse to dust you, old boy," he told himself. "You confuse her, and she don't like it." Still, the feelings were there. Buffy felt something for him. The question was, would that save his unlife if he told Buffy he'd nicked a taste of Red's blood?
It hadn't really been his fault. He'd just been sitting there, keeping an eye out for baddies, when her nose had started bleeding again. Force of habit to take a taste, really.
"Here I am with this bleedin' chip in my head, and she's got so much extra blood it was leakin' out. Can I really be blamed? It was all perfectly innocent, really," he muttered, practicing his argument.
He walked quicker, shivering slightly as a warm trill crawled up his spine. Yes, it had been just a taste, but what a taste it was. He couldn't explain it to any of the Scoobies - and they certainly didn't want him to - but warm fresh human blood was just …
Spike grinned. It was fuckin' fabulous. But this damn chip meant he couldn't have it. He couldn't have what he craved so badly until he thought his insides would rip his body apart, tearing through him to go on its own search for it. Sure, the animals and donated blood kept him alive, but that was like … lite beer. No, worse - it was non-alcoholic beer. Bloody O'Douls.
And Red's blood had been - wow. Just a taste, and he could feel it singing in his veins. And that's what he had to find a way to explain to Buffy.
"Bloody hell!" Spike yelled, finding himself standing in front of the hospital. "Apparently you've already decided," he admonished himself aloud.
Shaking his head in self-disgust, Spike walked into the hospital, hurrying to the area where he knew Buffy would be waiting for news.
"How's the nibblet?" Spike asked, his cold dead heart twitching uncomfortably at the sight of Buffy sitting along in her uncomfortable chair, a lost look on her face. He seated himself next to her, leaning his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands loosely.
"She's awake now," Buffy said, pulling herself into the present. "Xander says you guys had a little excitement?" she asked, changing the subject.
"That's right," Spike confirmed, nodding slowly, counting the tiles on the floor. "Had a bit of a run-in with an ugly."
"An ugly what?" Buffy asked.
"I have no idea."
"And Willow's all right?"
"Oh, yeah, sure," Spike said, sitting up and leaning back. "Red's all right. Her bird showed up, so I took off."
Buffy nodded slowly, pursing her lips. "Why are you here, Spike?" she asked finally.
"What, a guy can't just decide to stop in at the hospital and have a look-see?" he asked uncomfortably. Now that he was here, with the Slayer sitting next to him, he was sure that the whole idea of telling her about Willow was an incredibly stupid one.
"Umm… no."
"Right, then. Well, you see," Spike said, trying to find the least incriminating words. "Have I ever told you about the time me and Dru-"
"I'm sure I don't want to hear that Spike," Buffy said, her back stiffening.
"Ahh, then … well."
"Just spit it out, Spike."
"It's Red," Spike said.
"Yeah, I know. Wacky mojo, nosebleed, confusion," Buffy said, ticking off each point on her fingers as Xander had related them.
"No, it's … something has her," Spike said slowly.
"What?" Buffy asked, jumping to her feet. "What do you mean something has her? I thought she was with Tara?"
"No! I mean, yes … she's fine," Spike said. "It's just … she's gone all dark, Buffy. Something's gotten ahold of her, or she's become something … she's …" Spike stopped, growling in frustration at his inability to articulate what was so clear to him.
"Look, Spike, I don't have time for word games. Either tell me or don't," Buffy said impatiently.
"You remember Dru, right?" Spike asked, trying this from another angle.
"Yes, I remember Dru," Buffy responded as if speaking to a slow child. "Wait - Dru doesn't have Willow, does she?"
"No, I told you, Red's fine. But she's not fine. She's like Dru."
"Run that by me one more time? You kind of lost me when you compared one of my oldest friends to your psychotic vampire bitch ex."
"Seriously, Buffy. Has Red been acting strange? Other than the flashy magic. Has she done anything weird for her, like, I dunno - skip classes?"
Buffy paused, the serious look on Spike's face making her consider the question carefully, despite the flippant example. "Well, I … she yelled at that one guy at school, but - really, I just thought, y'know, 'Go Will.'"
Spike smiled grimly, nodding as if that confirmed his suspicions. "Her temper's been a bit short, hasn't it? Her judgement's been off?"
Buffy nodded, her brow furrowed. "Yeah, she has - but what's your point, Spike?"
"Something bad has her. It's like, she's been channeling all these dark dangerous powers - they're becoming a part of her. They already are, to some extent."
"So you're saying it's like a possession thing?"
Spike pursed his lips, trying to think of an example that would help clarify. "Okay, let's say Red ate twenty candy bars a day, right?"
"Oh, I so hope you're going somewhere with this that doesn't involve Evil Snickers," Buffy replied.
Spike rolled his eyes before continuing. "She'd get really fat, until she didn't really look like the person you knew anymore, wouldn't she?"
"Okay, is it just me, or is this the world's stupidest example? And somewhat - offensive?"
"Please, just bear with me," Spike said, trying to keep his temper in hand. "So, the source is the Snickers, but the fat cells are a part of her body now. They're part of who she is, physically."
"I'm with you, but I don't see your point."
"The spells are doing that to her. She's digesting magic - lots of it from some dark power - and it's affecting who she is."
"Well, now that I've wasted five minutes of my life listening to that thoroughly riveting explanation, why don't you tell me how you got that crazy idea?" Buffy said sarcastically.
"I just know, Buffy. It's true."
"Look, it's an interesting theory and it explains the weird behavior, but I think Willow's just having a serious wiggins and she'll calm down."
"No, she won't calm down - that's what I'm trying to tell you," Spike argued.
"How do you know?" Buffy shot back.
Spike sighed, hoping he wasn't about to become a bit of dust for the nice janitorial staff to sweep up. "You know how wine-connoisseurs -"
"Is this going to be another charming simile?" Buffy asked sweetly, a fake smile on her face.
Spike stood, glaring down at the Slayer. "Fine. I'll just toddle off to my crypt, and when Red goes all loony-tunes and its too late to stop it, I'll just laugh my arse off." With one last look, he turned and started walking away.
"Wait, Spike," Buffy called, standing up to follow him. Spike stopped, but didn't turn around.
"Oh, sure - now you want to hear it. You sure you want to listen to another 'charming simile'?"
"You have to admit, this is a little far-fetched. Sure, her spells are out of hand, and she needs to cool it with the magic, but she's not … evil."
"No, she's not, but she is dangerous, and getting more so every day," Spike said, finally turning, his face serious.
"Okay … wine people. Go," Buffy prompted.
"They can taste the wine, and they can tell you where it came from, what year it is, all that?"
"Right. Gotcha'. Wine-tasting people can do cool James Bond suave stuff. Now … Willow?"
"I, uhh … I can do something similar with blood," Spike said slowly, eyeing Buffy warily and waiting for her reaction.
"And when does this story get back to Willow?" Buffy asked, before realization dawned visibly on her face. Faster than he could blink, Spike found himself pressed against the wall, a stake at his chest and a forearm pressing uncomfortably into his throat. "You drank her blood? Give me one reason not to kill you."
"I didn't - it was - she had a nosebleed and I got some on my hand when I cleaned it up. I licked it off, got a taste, and then I knew."
Buffy's look of anger was quickly replaced by a look of revulsion. "Nosebleed? Spike, that's just … ewww. Ewww."
"That's not the point, Buffy," Spike said when Buffy eased up the arm against his throat. "The point is, that blood was dark and powerful. Like Dru. But more so … there's only a bit of it in there, but whatever's there is pure bad."
"So we - what? Off Willow?" Buffy asked incredulously.
"I don't know, Buffy. But you have to be careful around her."
"Willow wouldn't hurt any of us - not on purpose," Buffy insisted.
"You don't get it, do you? It's. In. Her. Blood. It's a part of her. It's changed her, and she isn't the Willow that you knew. Not anymore. The only thing that's keeping her remotely balanced …" Spike trailed off, shaking his head.
"What, Spike? What's keeping her balanced."
"Tara. Her love for Tara was in there, too. And it's strong, yes, but the darkness is fighting it - fights in the blood leave a bitter aftertaste."
"So, Willow's got bitter blood, and Tara can fix that?" Buffy asked. "I still don't see what I'm supposed to >do< about all of this? What can I do, Spike?" she challenged.
"What did Xander say about the fight tonight?" Spike asked suddenly.
"Change the subject much?" Buffy asked. Seeing Spike's impatient look, she relented. "Let's see … it went 'Big Ugly, Scary Mojo, Wacky Willow'."
"When Willow cast the spell at whatever-it-was, it made the thing stronger. I suggest you start looking there," he said, turning and walking away.
by mollyig » Tue Nov 20, 2001 2:52 am
A nice twist. And Tara's love is the only thing keeping the evil at bay. sigh!
------------------
"But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. "
W. B. Yeats
by nika » Tue Nov 20, 2001 8:11 am
by Sassette » Tue Nov 20, 2001 12:48 pm
-Sassette
by Shaniezak » Tue Nov 20, 2001 3:52 pm
Oh, don't be so literal. It was squicky-nice. You know. Nice in the "wow, that worked out really well" way, gross-out factor aside.
Sorry to disappoint, but I still love you mainly for your mind.
by Sassette » Tue Nov 20, 2001 4:10 pm
Oh, heh...
And yeah, I know what everyone meant - that it "made sense nice" not that it "sounded like fun nice" ... I'm just kinda' surprised no one mentioned the squickiness factor, that's all.
Are you sure you love me for my mind? 'Cuz it's kind of ... y'know - twisted, sick, and has a propensity for making random and startling sudden movements.
-Sassette
[This message has been edited by Sassette (edited November 20, 2001).]
by miss_spangles » Tue Nov 20, 2001 4:40 pm
by Shaniezak » Tue Nov 20, 2001 5:12 pm
quote:
Originally posted by Sassette:
Are you sure you love me for my mind? 'Cuz it's kind of ... y'know - twisted, sick, and has a propensity for making random and startling sudden movements.
My point exactly, ya goof.
Besides, you share my level of worship for Amber. Which in and of itself is reason aplenty.
quote:by canadian kitty » Tue Nov 20, 2001 6:07 pm
hmm, this sounded a lot less naughty in my head. Great fic sassette.
by TrueXena » Tue Nov 20, 2001 10:41 pm
quote:
Originally posted by canadian kitty:
Does poking speed up the story posting process?
*canadian kitty readies her poking device*hmm, this sounded a lot less naughty in my head. Great fic sassette.
I've been poking for a couple of hours now, and still havent seen anything new. Not sure the poking actually works on Sassette.
Oh well, I'm only staying up to read the next part then I'm off to bed, cuz this Keyboard Face thing doesnt look good on me.
------------------
Later dayz,
TrueXena
"I'm so evil, and skanky...and I think I'm kinda gay."
quote:by Sassette » Thu Nov 22, 2001 9:54 am
And, for the wait, I promise W/T snugglies. Oh, AND the obligatory angst, but there will be snugglies!
-Sassette
by emily 'first' » Thu Nov 22, 2001 1:23 pm
------------------
vive,valeque.
by Sassette » Fri Nov 23, 2001 10:44 am
-Sassette
PS And since you've been so patient, I'll try to write up some more on my break, so I can post several bits. Definitely going to have another 'writing run' this weekend.
by Sassette » Fri Nov 23, 2001 11:58 pm
I think it's still scattered, but I actually did a rewrite on this bit (as opposed to just writing it and posting it, which is what I usually do), and I'm Very Very Tired (tm), so it might be ... I dunno ... weird?
Anyway, hope you like it. Have fun. Extra notes at the end.
Title: Answering Darkness Part 10 – Rest for the Wicked
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to pink_overalls@yahoo.com
Summary: It's sensitive chat time for the Scooby Gang
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 10
Rest for the Wicked
By Sassette
Willow smiles slowly, a warm fuzzy feeling enveloping her. With a soft little sigh, she snuggled closer to the source of her contentment, trying to ignore the pounding between her ears. She knew the headache was a consequence of her spellcasting the day before, but the results were worth it. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she drifted back towards sleep.
A hand – Tara’s hand – started gently stroking her hair, the soothing sensation stealing attention away from the dull throb behind her eyes.
“N-no,” Tara murmured, her arms tightening around Willow and cuddling her close.
“I’m here, Baby,” Willow mumbled, nuzzling the skin near her face and placing a light kiss there.
Tara settled down, her warm hands slipping underneath Willow’s shirt and stroking the bare skin of her back. Those sweetly familiar hands urged Willow closer, and she complied, shifting herself to lay more fully atop her sleeping lover, their legs entwining happily. The sound of Tara’s heartbeat under her ear urged her to relax against the warm soft body beneath her.
She smiled when she felt Tara turn her head, pressing her lips to her hair.
Everything was perfect. Buffy didn’t remember being in Heaven, Tara wasn’t mad at her, and Willow was happy getting snugglies from her girl, and with that thought, she drifted seamlessly back into her dreams.
Tara’s own dream continued, her face pulling into a frown. Willow – crying. Willow – betraying her. Willow – looking so very lost and alone, he heart broke to see it.
But Willow was here, wasn’t she? Dreams and reality merged and shifted, and Tara was aware of both holding Willow in her arms and turning from here – walking away.
‘Please, let >this< be real,’ Tara’s heart begged as her arms tightened around Willow’s slim body again.
A noise caught Tara’s attention, rumbly and low. It was slow, but rhythmic, and she tried to follow it through the fog of sleep, hoping it would lead her back to Willow.
The fog surrounded her, though, in shades of gray. Only the occasional flash of Willow’s hair broke the dull monochrome of the area, though something wasn’t quite right. The color was … off, somehow, though her heart knew it was still Willow. And so she followed the noise and the flashes of a deep crimson red, like Willow’s hair was being seen beneath a blue light. But there was no blue light here – just gray and gray and gray, endlessly confusing and swirling around her in a chaotic mist.
Willow was lost. She had to find her.
There – the noise was there .. and there it was again, and Tara walked, seeking the source of the sound, and another flash of deep red hair.
Something warm and wet dripped onto her chest – no, it was coming >from< her chest, oozing up from the skin. The fog filled her vision, but she looked down, seeing a brilliant red stain there, seeping into her skin and her shirt.
She was bleeding – or was it Willow who was bleeding? Just who shot who? Willow was bleeding – she had hurt Willow, and now she hurt, too.
But no, that wasn’t right. Willow had hurt her, but they were both bleeding and torn.
And Willow was lost. Had to find Willow.
Why couldn’t she find Willow. Couldn’t she always find Willow. Maybe she wasn’t looking hard enough.
A hand drifted up, touching the blood and Tara frowned. There was something wrong. Everyone was bleeding, but there was something wrong with her blood – with the Demon MaClay Blood. But no – it was Willow’s blood. Willow’s blood was wrong, because it wasn’t Willow’s blood at all, but MaClay blood – but Willow wasn’t one of the Demon MaClay’s, and the blood was hot and angry against her fingers.
Tara ran, trying to escape the fog and the confusion and the Demon Blood, lost in a hazy gray mist.
Her eyes fluttered open, a groan escaping her.
“No. G’back t’sleep,” Willow slurred, her face scrunching up into a child’s pout.
Tara blinked a few times, trying to clear her mind of the dream and pull herself into the waking world. But something kept her tethered to the dream even as she tried to awaken – something the same in both worlds.
Tara lifted her hand and studied it with sleepy eyes before her brain registered exactly what the red stain on her fingers was. She craned her neck, tilting her head and perring around Willow’s hair – her correctly-colored hair – and seeing the red droplets of blood against the smooth white skin of her chest.
Willow was bleeding. Willow was lost.
No, not lost – right here. Tara blinked her eyes a few times, breathing in the cool morning air.
Willow was here, but bleeding.
Willow had a nosebleed.
Tara took a deep steadying breath before gently rolling onto her side, depositing her lover onto her back. Or ex-lover? Betrayer? Tormenter and Demon?
Willow made a grumpy little noise before snuggling into the warm bedding.
Willow was all these, and so much more. Companion. Seductress. Vixen and Saint. Willow was everything, but how could Tara stay with someone who had hurt her so badly?
Standing on shaky legs, Tara walked to the bathroom, getting a cloth and running it under warm water.
She looked up, and big blue eyes above dark rings and bags stared back at her in the mirror. With a critical eye, she looked like she had stayed up all night and slept in her clothes, which was certainly true, but she also looked like … she looked like she used to look every morning when she awoke back home. Haunted. Frightened. Weak and small.
She discarded the cloth, dipping her hands beneath the water and bending towards the sink, splashing her face and wondering how she could leave someone who loved her so very much. But how could she stay? Hadn’t she run from the people she loved and claimed to love her when the pain had grown too great?
And this was worse – ten times worse – for she had trusted Willow in ways she had never trusted her family. She had never trusted them to keep her safe, but to keep others safe >from< her once she changed.
Trembling where she stood, she splashed her face again, screwing her eyes shut tight and rubbing her eyes vigorously.
Willow, she decided wildly, was her Demon. She was the MaClay Demon, and the family legends were true – and if she had only gone home on her 20th birthday, she wouldn’t know this pain. Everyone would be safe and happy, and it was her own selfishness for wanting to stay in the first place that caused all of this.
And who had convinced her to stay, despite the legends? Despite the sure knowledge that the Demon came for all MaClay women? It had been Willow, who had told her she wasn’t evil. It had been Willow who had shown her that she didn’t deserve to be hurt. It was Willow who, with her every gesture and every word, had convinced her that the Demon didn’t need to be beaten out of her, because there was no Demon. And that she was worthy of love.
Tara picked up the cloth and made her way carefully back to Willow’s room, the tears making it hard to navigate in the largely unfamiliar house.
Willow still slept, her face peaceful and serene. An Angel’s face, masking the woman who had taught her she was worthwhile and strong, only to try to tear that knowledge away with a thoughtless spell.
Carefully, Tara sat on the edge of the bed, dabbing at Willow’s upper lip with the cloth and cleaning the blood away.
Shaking her head, Tara tried to dispel all thoughts of Demons and Angels from her mind. It was ridiculous, really – this was Willow. Her Willow. She hadn’t meant to hurt her. Willow would never hurt her intentionally.
But hadn’t she said the same of Donnie? Of Papa?
Tara looked on Willow’s slumbering form, her mind turning over and over as her heart just sat and wept. A sad smile lifted one corner of her mouth as she realized that Willow’s love would always be a source of strength, and it was that strength that allowed her to stand up and walk out of Willow’s room, down the stairs, and out the door, letting her Demon rest.
**********************************
Well, this took a kinda' strange turn I wasn't expecting - I expected to actually get some plot-oriented exposition done in this bit, but obviously I didn't ... it went into the whole 'Random Musings' category before I could stop it. I think I was horribly scarred and traumatized by "Smashed".
So, for continuities sake, I'm doing some rewrites on this stuff I have scattered about here ... so no more updates tonight.
-Sassette
[This message has been edited by Sassette (edited November 24, 2001).]
[This message has been edited by Sassette (edited November 24, 2001).]
by xita » Sat Nov 24, 2001 2:41 am
quote:
Tara looked on Willow’s slumbering form, her mind turning over and over as her heart just sat and wept. A sad smile lifted one corner of her mouth as she realized that Willow’s love would always be a source of strength, and it was that strength that allowed her to stand up and walk out of Willow’s room, down the stairs, and out the door, letting her Demon rest.
Very powerful, very sad and depressing, but very powerful. Good for Tara. This is like the show, I want them back together but not at the expense of Tara. Willow has to make it up to her...
by emily 'first' » Sat Nov 24, 2001 5:27 am
------------------
vive,valeque.
by nika » Sat Nov 24, 2001 9:01 am
------------------
"Eat lot's of applesauce, preferably fed to you by attractive young lesbians." Amber Benson
by Rane » Sat Nov 24, 2001 11:14 pm
by Sassette » Mon Nov 26, 2001 7:26 pm
I was reading at work and >cringing< at some of this stuff. Yikes.
But, y'know, addictions aren't pretty. Neither is the recovery time afterwards - and they never truly go away.
Anyway, I'll tack on part 11 to this post later tonight.
-Sassette
by Web Warlock » Mon Nov 26, 2001 8:44 pm
I am really enjoying this.
Warlock.
------------------
Web Warlock
web.warlock@home.com webwarlock@planetadnd.com
Author, the Netbooks of Witches and Warlocks
The Other Side: http://www.xtreme-gaming.com/~theotherside/
The DnD Community Council: http://www.dndcommunitycouncil.org/nbownw
--
"It could be witches, Some evil witches.
Which is ridiculous, 'Cause witches, they were persecuted Wicca good and love the earth
And women power and I'll be over here."
by Sassette » Mon Nov 26, 2001 8:51 pm
Answering Darkness Part 11
Still
By Sassette
“Buffy?” Dawn croaked out, her throat dry and her lips cracked.
“Hey,” Buffy said groggily, raising her head and looking around to orient herself before landing her gaze on her sister. Dawn smiled weakly, and Buffy smiled back. Dawn had been so quiet – so still. She had woken briefly, convincing the doctors that she had sustained no lasting brain injury, only to fall back asleep, her system still worn and stressed.
In the long night, she had far too much time to think, and she realized now it was the stillness that had bothered her. The steady but shallow rise and fall of Dawn’s chest had been her only movement, and in its predictability, it had seemed like it shouldn’t count as movement at all. It wasn’t like Dawn was trying to move, or was able to move; it was just what her body did naturally.
And it had been disturbing. Disturbing in that it had seemed as though Dawn wasn’t really there at all, but someplace else, apart and away from the real world, and that Buffy couldn’t reach her. And it was disturbing in that, through the night, Buffy had begun to wonder. Had Dawn felt the same way, seeing her body lying broken and still after she had closed the portal? Had Dawn felt this helpless and afraid?
Buffy didn’t consider herself a deep thinker. Oh, she was bright and certainly capable, but given to self-analysis? No, she wasn’t the type to wonder about these things. She was more of a “tell me how to kill it, and I’ll get started,” kind of girl. So why was she suddenly so worried that she had made a mistake?
Willow’s words rang through her mind in the dark, and Dawn’s words, pleading with her to stay. And her own words. Over and over.
The hardest thing indeed.
But Willow had been wrong, Buffy knew that. She knew it as certainly as she knew she was alive and breathing, because all of it hurt.
And yet …
“Could I have some water?” Dawn said slowly.
Buffy jumped to her feet, filling a glass and placing a straw in it. Here, she was in her element. Here, she had a task – something she could >do<, that would make a difference. Dawn needed water, and Buffy could provide it.
Buffy sat on the edge of the bed, holding the cup for her sister and placing the straw between her lips. She brushed back the hair from Dawn’s forehead as the girl – no, honestly, she was a young woman now – drank slowly.
Now there was movement, and pain. She could see it in Dawn’s face. She was hurting, like Buffy was hurting. Heaven had been so very still. It had been so very peaceful and warm, but had she really belonged there? Dawn was here, and Buffy was all that Dawn really had left. If given the chance to return to that stillness, would she leave Dawn again?
“How are you feeling?” Buffy asked, before shaking her head. “I bet everyone’s going to ask you that, and I bet you’re not feeling so hot, huh?”
“Yeah. I’m just, really tired,” Dawn admitted. “Are you going to yell at me?” she asked warily.
“Yell at you?” Buffy asked in mock surprise. “For casting a spell on a friend that was way too powerful for you and ending up in the hospital? Now, why would I wanna’ do that?” she asked, in the dreaded ‘sarcastic voice.’
“I was just trying to –“
“No, Dawn. Not now,” Buffy said, managing to convey both the finality of her words and her love for her sister in her tone.
Dawn nodded slowly, and Buffy ran a hand down her arm to squeeze her hand.
“Dawnie?” came a voice from the doorway, and Dawn looked up, a delighted smile on her face.
“Tara?”
“Yeah, sweetie,” Tara said, moving into the room and sitting on the other side of Dawn’s bed. She had come to the hospital straight from the Rosenberg home, feeling more confident and sure with every step.
“Tara, I’m sorry,” Dawn said, her face screwing up into a grimace and tears welling up in her eyes.
“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Buffy said, giving Tara a significant look before standing and walking from the room.
Buffy was almost grateful for the excuse to leave. She knew she had to handle Dawn’s most recent “adventure”, but right now she needed a little space to breathe.
“Dawn,” Tara said, stopping the young girl from speaking when she had opened her mouth. “What you did – it … Goddess, it wasn’t right, Dawn,” Tara said gently, laying a hand on Dawn’s shoulder. “It was dangerous, and disrespectful, and –“
“I know, and I’m so sorry,” Dawn said miserably. “I just … I just didn’t want you to go. Not like everybody else. Everybody is always leaving me,” she said, her voice choked and ending on a whisper.
“Oh, Dawnie,” Tara said. “I … it had nothing to do with you, sweetie. I just – I had to go. But it wasn’t you – never you.”
“But you left,” Dawn said starkly.
“I know I did,” Tara said, taking a deep breath. “But Dawnie, you can’t use magic to control people and things to your liking.”
“I – I know,” Dawn said, looking down at her covered legs and tugging on the threads of the hospital blanket.
“What you need,” Tara said, a half-smile on her face, “is a better understanding of Wicca and magick.”
“Buffy won’t let me learn. She won’t let me do anything,” Dawn complained.
“We already talked. Last night. She’ll let you do this. I’ll teach you,” Tara said slowly, her own fingers fiddling with the blankets, unsure of Dawn’s reaction to the offer.
“What? Really?” Dawn asked, her voice raising and ending on a squeak.
“Yes, but it’s not all flashy lights and stuff,” Tara said. “There’s a lot of philosophy. And gardening.”
“But – that’s so cool – I’ll really get to … ?”
“Yeah, really,” Tara said.
“So I’ll get to see you all the time, too?” Dawn asked, her smile growing larger as each new implication of this new development occurred to her.
“More than you think,” Tara said wryly. “I’m moving back in.”
Dawn stopped, her face reflecting the hope she expected to be shattered. “So, you and Willow - ?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
“No,” Tara said, shaking her head slowly, unable to meet Dawn’s eyes. “It’s … complicated. But we all decided it would be best if I moved back in, and Willow moved out.”
“So … I mean, don’t you – aren’t you …” Dawn gave up trying to articulate what she was feeling, letting out a heavy sigh.
With a look of understanding, Tara answered anyway.
“Yes, I still love her. And yes, I’ll miss her. But this really is for the best. It means I can stay in Sunnydale and keep going to school, and I can teach you magic before you end up blowing up the house,” she finished wryly.
Dawn winced. “I really am sorry –“
“I know you are, Dawn. But you have to realize two things: that magick and people aren’t toys, and that none of us are going anywhere and that we love you.”
“Still?”
“Still.”
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