Okay Kittens. I feel a really weird sense of tension and relief here. This fic is now officially 1/3 over. That's right, tonight I'm posting Ch.15, which is the end of Part One: Body and Soul of The Wish of Three Hearts. I know this has been a difficult fic for many of you because of the angst, and I really appreciate you all hanging in there with me. For those of you who have left feedback, whether it was once or for every chapter, I offer a heartfelt and sincere thank you. Please be warned that this chapter is NC-17. I really hope that you will enjoy. Again, thank you so much.
Time for feedback to the feedback:
KioNewgo--I'm glad that I could manage to surprise you a bit. I hope you enjoy this update too!
lonelylanding--I know, that Mears, so icky! (And now so dead, forever and ever dead!)
AmongstTheTrees--Sorry to hear I didn't have any surprises in store for you--I have to work within KB rules after all--but I'm glad you enjoyed the resolution with the Empire of the Nerds.
vampyregurl73--Yeah, I tried to see it as a good thing, LOL.
The wait is over, I hope you'll enjoy.
Promthea128--Happy Belated B-Day!
Mags--I can't promise it's the end of the cliffies, but this chapter DOES NOT end in one!
As for the cursing, I definitely didn't mean you my friend, it was some kid who I actually PM'd and assured I followed KB rules because they were pretty hysterical!
DaddyCatALSO--I'm thrilled to have you react out of a fresh space, as if this were totally new to you!
Thanks for your thoughts on the chapter, you've definitely got Jonathan and Andrew down. I hope you continue to enjoy.
Zampsa1975--Yeah, I'm glad for the faking too! Read on to see how things turn out for poor Willow:
wolfsbane--Thank you, thank you. I hope you continue to read and enjoy.
wimpy0729--Yeah for squeals!
I'm glad you enjoyed how things played out with the trio, it was one of the earliest scenes that came to me when I was planning this fic, and I loved, loved, loved having Jonathan kick Andrew's ass. I hope that this chapter will end your need for Pepto!
BuffyFan4ever--...Sorry? I promise that things will get better. Hang in there with me!
Lady Callie--Thank you so much. I love writing, and so it's very gratifying to hear that someone is enjoying the quality of my work--not just the subject matter.
I hope you enjoy this next update too.
xlaurax1--Thanks for all the detailed feedback! I'm really gratified that you're enjoying despite the high angst quotient. I think it pays off, I hope you agree. The coaster is going again, hang on for the ride!
Nue--Don't be sorry he's dead, you're right, totally creepy. I hope that this time I leave you with happy tears.
Thanks again everybody. Update follows below:
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• Title - The Wish of Three Hearts (Part One: Body and Soul)
• Author name – LonelyTara
• Email Address -
9kodama@gmail.com
• Rating - NC-17
• Disclaimer - While filled with plenty of angst, tension, and grief, please know this will be a happy fic in the end. Not just because of the rules, but because I love W/T too much to mess a great thing up! Oh, and all this belongs to Joss Whedon et al, I'm just borrowing, please don't sue.
• Feedback-Please, please!
• Summary- This is an AU post S7, bouncing back to S6. It's been three years since Tara's death. Willow travels to the canyon that was once Sunnydale California to celebrate her lost love's birthday. Willow makes a wish, and everything changes...
• Notes-Thanks to everyone who will read. Some lines come from BtVS S5 and S6.
Quote:
Willow Rosenberg, her love, her soul mate, the woman who had literally saved Tara’s life, reached the edge of the chasm. She stopped, chest heaving as she gasped for breath.
Not in time, Tara thought, and felt a scream pressing against her ribs. Not in time.
And Willow turned, green eyes swimming with tears, hair blazing in the light. “I love you Tara!” She shouted it, smiling even as tears welled, slipping down her cheeks. Tara reached for her, and then Willow was in the air, falling. The flash of her red hair was like the sun slipping down behind the edge of the earth.
Chapter Fifteen
“No,” Tara said.
It was a whisper, and then grief sent a scream boiling up from her chest. “No!” She dropped to her knees and stilled her mind.
Goddess, help me.
Tara reached out again, and this time her hand was cupped, as if waiting for something precious to be placed in the palm of her hand.
“There,” Tara said, and the slightest smile spread across her face.
She was dimly aware of Giles holding Buffy as she wept, of Xander comforting Dawn, but all her focus centered on her hand. She rose to her feet, swaying, and walked toward the edge of the cliff. Suddenly Anya was at her elbow, placing a gentle pressure on her arm.
“Tara,” Anya murmured, “You can’t go with her. It’s not time. She would want you to live, Tara.”
Tara looked at Anya and nodded toward her cupped hand. “I have her, I have her but we need to hurry. I am so very tired. Help me, please?”
Anya’s eyes widened and she nodded, steering Tara toward the rim of the chasm. With the demon’s firm hand on her elbow, Tara was able to keep on her feet. When they came to the edge, she looked down and her heart sang. Willow, her Willow, was there, hovering, curled in the air like a babe in the womb.
“Willow,” Anya breathed.
“Up love,” Tara said softly. “Rise up to me.”
Willow slowly began to levitate back up toward Tara and Anya, Tara’s trembling hand and furrowed brow the only sign of the strain that the magic was placing on her battered body. There was a sheen of wheat and sky blue around the red haired witch, Tara’s love, protecting her. Willow rose up into open air, and then settled into Tara’s waiting arms.
“I’ve got you love, I’ve got you,” she murmured, kissing Willow’s hair.
Tara and Anya walked away from the long gouge in the flesh of the earth, Tara still cradling Willow in her arms. She was awake, Tara knew, because with every step Willow pulled her arms tighter around Tara’s neck, keeping her face buried against the blonde’s shoulder.
They drew even with the grief-stricken Scoobies. Xander was bowed over Dawn, who was crying in long, loud sobs on the ground, and Giles trembled, eyes shut tight as he held his shaking slayer. Tara walked past them without a word, Anya following just a step behind her.
“You can stop crying now,” the vengeance demon announced. “Willow is okay, well, as okay as she can be under the circumstances. Tara saved her, she didn’t fall.”
Buffy’s head snapped up. She took one look at Willow, cradled safe in Tara’s arms, and began to cry even harder. Silent tears ran down Giles’s face and he pulled Buffy close.
“I’d forgotten how weird humans are,” Anya said with a shrug.
“Willow!” Dawn cried. She pushed herself up from the ground and took a step after the retreated witches, struggling when Xander pulled her into a hug.
“I know you’re happy and relieved,” Xander said, his voice shaking. “We’re all happy and relieved, in fact I might lead us all in a rousing rendition of the happy Snoopy dance in a sec here—”
“Great,” Dawn replied, struggling. “Then get off me so I can hug Willow and then I’ll dance away.”
“But,” Xander stressed, not releasing his grip on the teen, “I think we need to give them a little while. We need to give Tara and Willow some alone time. You get it, right?”
Dawn stopped struggling, leaning her head back against Xander’s shoulder. “I get it.”
“That was surprisingly insightful and sensitive of you, Xander,” Anya said. “I take back what I told Hallie, you’re not a complete Neolithic clod all the time.”
“Well, thank you, Anya,” he replied wryly.
“You’re welcome,” she said happily, giving him an awkward pat on the arm.
Xander looked down where Anya was touching him with a little smile on his face. Anya didn’t see it; the vengeance demon had never taken her eyes off the retreating figures of Tara and Willow.
Tara walked toward the edge of the bluff and saw Giles’s car and Buffy’s jeep parked a short way down the side, doors hanging wide open on both vehicles. She made her way down the hillside, slow and cautious, taking care not to jostle Willow as she moved over the rough ground.
When she came to the bottom of the slope, she carried Willow to Giles’s car and stepped up into the backseat. When Tara sat, she pulled Willow closer against her, pressing her face into her lover’s hair.
“I love you, Willow,” Tara whispered. “I love you so much.”
In a voice so tiny Tara thought she might be imagining it, Willow said, “Love you, Tara.”
“Oh Will,” Tara gasped, squeezing Willow and kissing the top of her head again and again. “Hi baby.”
“I love you,” Willow breathed, and then she tensed in Tara’s arms. “I do, Tara, but the price, the price. The debt must be repaid.”
She lifted her head and Tara had to bite back a gasp. Her lover’s face was so pale, so strained and weary.
Haunted. She’s haunted, Tara thought.
“You’re my everything,” Willow told her. “And I need you to be safe.” Her lip quivered and tears streaked down her cheeks. “The debt must be repaid. I’m dangerous,” Willow groaned, choking back a sob. “I’m dangerous. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You aren’t dangerous,” Tara replied, pulling Willow back against her again. “I love you, I love you more than life itself. I’ll never let you go, Willow.”
Images began to flutter in front of her eyes. Tara saw her own body, lifeless, cradled in Willow’s trembling arms. Then there was a bullet rising out of Buffy’s body, Willow’s ruffled shirt, blood-spattered, transforming into a map. Tara saw Warren’s fear, his mouth being sewn shut, a bullet piercing his chest in slow motion. And then his skin was torn away, leaving a shell the hideous, slick, corded purple of a skinned chicken, body immolated in an instant. She saw Buffy, Giles, Anya and Xander all beaten or bleeding, slumped unconscious, a blur of weapons and fists. And then there was the bluff, but there was no chasm. Instead the spire of Proserpexa’s temple thrust up out of the earth. There were bursts of green—
“I was going to end it,” Willow whispered, trembling. “End it all, end the world, for the pain of losing you. You’re not safe with me, Tara,” she gasped. “I’m a monster.”
Tara shook her head and carefully tilted Willow’s chin up, looking her love in the eye and then placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“You’re not a monster love,” she said softly. “You’ve undone all those things. You didn’t hurt anyone, Willow.”
“But I wanted to,” Willow whispered. “And I came so close. It’s still in me, Tara. Still in me.”
Willow began to weep in harsh, ragged sobs. Tara rocked her lover, peppering kisses on her cheek.
“I understand, Willow,” Tara replied. “I understand what you’re doing, what you’ve done, even if you don’t.” She took a deep breath and let it out in a long, slow sigh. “You didn’t want to destroy the world, Willow. You didn’t want to live without me. You wanted to die, and you were afraid to die alone.”
At Tara’s words Willow wept all the harder, burrowing her face against Tara’s shoulder again.
“I know what you’re going through,” the blonde whispered to her lover. “Because I’ve seen that kind of desperation before. And for you to understand that, my love, you have to understand my mother.”
Tara went quiet, hushed, even as she continued to rock her grieving love. She’d shared so many of the horrors of her life. Willow already knew about the physical abuse she’d suffered at the hands of her father and brother, had helped Tara to survive the nightmares, the panic attacks that plagued her after Glory invaded her mind. The one thing they’d never discussed was her mother’s death.
But the moment Willow stepped into the void, that Tara had to pray she could keep her soul mate alive, when she saw her cradled on the air, Tara knew that silence must be broken.
“My mother was such a strong woman,” Tara told Willow, running a hand down the girl’s red hair. “So strong. She protected me, you know? She literally stood between my father and I more times than I can remember, protecting me from his rages. My power was clear from a young age and I couldn’t always control it. There were accidental levitations, little sparks of light, and it m-made him so angry.”
Tara could feel Willow’s trembling slow, felt the heat of tears seeping through her blouse, the sobbing stopped. But Willow wasn’t sleeping; she was wide-awake, her focus like a weight, the intensity of it prickled on Tara’s skin.
“He wanted it to stop, he was desperate for it to stop. He tried to beat out of my mother, out of me, but that wasn’t enough. My father believed that the strength of the demon, that evil, was building in us continually, that that was where the magic came from. And so he tried to wash it away. He called them cleansings.”
Tara took a deep breath, she didn’t want her voice to shake, didn’t want to bring Willow any more grief and worry than she was already feeling. She just wanted her lover to understand.
“Cleansings,” Tara repeated. “To suppress the demon. Every year on the summer solstice, when the earth turned toward winter and night, they would take us, Dad and Donny, they would take us out to the lake on the edge of the farm, row us out to the dead center where it was deepest, and put us in the water. They bound us, hand and foot, weighed us down with stumps from the woodpile, and put us in the water.”
“Baby,” Willow choked.
“I know,” Tara replied, pressing a kiss to her lover’s bright hair. “I was seventeen. In the springtime I noticed how quiet my mother had become, it seemed like weeks at a time went by in her silences. She was worn, gray, like a ghost in her own house. I thought it was because the cleansing was approaching, that she was afraid, because I was afraid too. And then the morning came, and they took us out to the lake, and they tied us up, and they threw us in the water.”
Tara could feel tears slipping down her cheeks. She held Willow closer, sending her love and comfort, putting her focus on her lover. It was Tara’s desperate attempt to ground herself in the now, a reminder that she wasn’t that girl anymore, that she was safe.
“As we dropped beneath the surface of the lake, we watched each other, we always did. It was comforting somehow, that shared gaze. And when we settled to the lakebed, my mother looked down at the silt and weeds beneath her feet, and she looked up at the sky, and then she looked at me. She mouthed one word.”
Was it sudden?
What?
Your mother.
No… yes. It’s always sudden.
Tara shook away the memory of Joyce Summers’s death, the terrible silence of the hospital waiting room.
“She said goodbye,” Tara finished in a whisper. “My mother said goodbye and then she took a breath. And when the cleansing was done, when my father and brother pulled us from the water, she was gone. My father told me that the demon had been driven from her, that she was free, but I know the truth. I’ve always known it. My mother took a breath. She pulled water into her lungs and died because she thought she was something evil, something horrible, that she had passed that heritage on to me. But she wasn’t evil, Willow. And neither are you.”
“It’s in me—” Willow began.
“I wasn’t strong enough to save my mother, but I’m not a child anymore. I won’t lose you, Willow.” Tara spoke with absolute certainty. “I love you, no matter what you may have done in another life or this one. I can’t live without you, Willow,” she gasped, giving voice to a little sob as she finally began to weep. “So, please Will, stay with me. I love you.”
Tara curled over Willow, felt the redhead press a kiss to her temple, her neck, her collarbone. The tears streaming down Willow’s face cooled the warmth of each kiss she pressed to Tara’s flesh. And when she moved up to press her lips to Tara’s lips, neither one knew whose tears they felt, a mingling of their grief, of the overwhelming relief that the one who completed them was safe, was alive in the world.
“I'm sorry, baby,” Willow said, pulling herself more tightly against Tara. “I’m so sorry that I tried to go.”
“I know, love,” Tara murmured. “You don’t have to worry anymore. I’m safe. The price has been repaid.” She didn’t know where the words had come from, but as she said it Tara knew it was true, felt the certainty of it as clearly as she knew that no one would ever hold her heart besides the woman she held in her arms.
Willow shook her head, her hair tickling on Tara’s skin.
“Yes,” Tara told her lover. “All your loneliness, all your fear and regret, you paid the price for three years, Willow. “The debt’s repaid.” Tara peppered Willow’s face with kisses, skirting the edge of the bandage on her cheek, catching every tear that fell.
The Scoobies watched the embracing witches from the top of the ridge.
“Is it over?” Buffy asked her watcher, giving a shaky chuckle. “I don’t know if I can handle any more excitement.”
“Yes,” Giles said, nodding thoughtfully. “I believe so.”
“Good,” Xander sighed. “Very, very good.”
“But what about the Ter Sis Animi?” Dawn asked in a small voice. “What about Willow’s debt?”
Giles gave the teen a sad smile. “I think the price she has to pay is memory,” he said softly, pausing to clean his glasses. “It is one that I am quite familiar with myself. But for Willow, for Willow it means knowing the true darkness she is capable of.” He looked back at Willow and Tara, his smile fading. “The price is paid,” he repeated, so softly that only the slayer could hear him.
Buffy smiled tenderly up at her watcher, giving his arm a little squeeze. “We should get home,” she told him.
Giles grabbed his glasses, his clean glasses, and polished them again. “Yes, of course,” he replied. “Let’s go home.”
The Scoobies moved down the slope in single file, a silent and solemn procession, and gathered around Willow and Tara. Each of them reached out to offer quiet comfort, gripping a hand, or a shoulder.
Xander took reached out and took hold of Dawn and Anya’s hands, led them to the jeep and started the engine. Giles and Buffy slipped into the convertible. As they drove away from the bluff, the slayer reached back and gripped Tara’s hand, squeezing it gently.
“Thank you,” Buffy whispered. “Thank you for saving her.”
Tara nodded, squeezing the little blonde’s hand in return.
Thank you, Tara. Willow’s voice echoed in her mind, soft with exhaustion.
Buffy’s right. Thank you for saving me.
We saved each other, Willow. Tara sent to her lover in reply.
Body and soul.
* * *
As soon as Giles started the car, and the world was filled with the hum of tires on dirt and stone, on asphalt, Willow lulled to sleep, curled completely against Tara, breathing long and deep. Tara felt like the weight of her lover was an anchor, holding her grounded and safe in a world that had gone hazy, ephemeral and strange in her weariness. Outside the windows, there was a blur of green and blue, grass and sky, and the town seemed too big somehow, expansive in a way she didn’t understand.
But then Tara realized what it was. The streets were empty. The residents of Sunnydale might be practiced at keeping a blind eye when it came to demonic activity, but the tremors that rocked the town that morning had sent everyone seeking cover.
Giles turned onto Revello Drive and Willow and Tara slid a bit on the backseat. The little redhead murmured, shifted in Tara’s embrace. She looked down at her lover, at Willow in her arms, brow smooth in sleep, and felt her heart swell with joy, with relief.
We’re going home love, Tara thought, running a hand down Willow’s soft auburn hair.
We’re going home. Willow didn’t wake, but she snuggled closer to Tara’s chest.
When the cars pulled into the driveway, Tara looked up at the house that had become her home, and felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. Exhaustion ran in a thick current under the love, the gratitude that she felt for being whole again.
A day, she thought wearily.
How can it have only been a day? She felt her arms begin to tremble and locked her fingers together, gripping tight so she could continue to embrace Willow.
The car stopped. There was a whine of breaks as the jeep came to a halt next to them. Giles and Buffy didn’t move, they just sat in the front seat staring up at the house. Xander, Dawn, and Anya climbed out of the jeep and walked up to the convertible. The teen walked over to the passenger side and took her sister’s hand, turning to look at the house as well. When Xander turned to stare at it too, Anya shook her head, putting her hands on her hips.
“What exactly are we looking at here?” The vengeance demon asked stridently. “Is something wrong with the house? Oh my god! Did the tremors cause structural damage?!”
Willow jumped in Tara’s arms, startled by the loud noise, and Tara rocked her, making little shushing noises until she settled again.
“We were reveling in the realization that we survived, Anya,” Giles replied wryly. “Thank you for reminding us of the important thing—the house.”
“Well Buffy, Dawn, Willow and Tara do live here, Giles,” Anya replied. “And Xander might as well. I’m sure he’s over here every day moping and asking for food. Look at him.”
“Anya,” Xander began wearily.
“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “While you all stand out here and revel, I’m going to help our friends into the house. You know, the two who were almost killed and/or mind-wiped today? And when I’m done I’ll go back to the Magic Box to make medicine from the sap of a demon that almost killed me to help my friends heal. Keys,” she said, walking around and holding her hand out at Buffy.
Tara couldn’t help but give a weary smile as vengeance demon’s ire cut the fog that had seemed to descend on the Scoobies. Buffy handed the keys to Anya and hopped out of the car without opening the door, vaulting over the side. When Xander stepped around by Tara and held out her arms, the blonde’s first impulse was to refuse, but she was barely able to keep her grip on her lover where she rested in her embrace, there was no way she would be able to carry Willow up into the house. She nodded, and Xander opened the door.
Xander reached down and lifted Willow with slow care, but as soon as she was separated from Tara, from the shelter of her arms, the redhead cried out, thrashing in Xander’s arms.
“Tara!” She groaned weakly.
“I’m right here, Willow.” Tara replied. She tried to stand, felt a sharp flare of pain spreading up into her shoulders, and slumped back into the seat.
“Tara,” Willow repeated, sounding weepy.
And then a warm, firm hand was gripping Tara’s elbow. She looked up to find Anya smiling down at her.
“Let me help you,” the vengeance demon said softly.
“Thank you, Anya,” Tara murmured.
With her help, Tara was able to gain her feet. Anya led her to Xander’s side and Tara took Willow’s hand, murmuring words of comfort and reassurance. As soon as their skin met, Willow quieted.
I’m right here, Tara thought to Willow over and over.
I’m not going anywhere. We’ll be together, Willow.
Love you, Tare. The reply was soft as a whisper.
The trio walked together up the stairs to the porch. Tara stumbled on a rough board, but Anya kept her upright, merely nodding when Tara murmured her thanks. When they got to the door, Anya told Tara to stay by Xander, left her leaning against the dark haired man for support as she opened the door. Still hand in hand with her love, Tara let Xander take them to the couch.
“Anya, can you help Tara for a minute?” Xander asked softly.
The vengeance demon took Tara’s arm again as he settled Willow down of the soft. Tara arm was stretched to the limit to keep hold of Willow’s hand, but there was no way she was letting go. Locked blue eye to green with her precious girl, Tara felt Xander take hold of her free arm, let him and Anya ease her down onto the sofa. Once she was sitting, Willow pressed against her. Tara wrapped her shaking arms around her lover and they burrowed into one another, hidden by curtains of honey gold and auburn.
Giles, Buffy, and Dawn filed into the house. The watcher walked over to the armchair by the couch and sank into it, pulling off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Dawnie,” Buffy said softly, leading her sister toward the kitchen. “Let’s get you something to eat.”
“Kay,” the girl said numbly.
The teen stared back over her shoulder at Willow and Tara, watching them murmuring, each to the other, with their heads pressed close together. Without a word she slipped free of Buffy’s hand and walked up to the pair. As soon as she was close, Dawn dropped to her knees in front of the couch, and held out her arms. The witches unfolded from their hug, each holding an arm out to the girl. Dawn slipped into their waiting embrace, squeezing Willow and Tara fiercely. She planted a kiss on each pale cheek, stood, and then pounded up the stairs, pausing at the top and calling down to them.
“I’m going to sleep for a decade. Please don’t wake me up unless it is for happy things, or for food. And not food by you Buffy, no offense.”
Her door closed as the slayer murmured, “None taken.”
Tara was so warm, the couch so soft, that she felt herself drifting off. Willow was already asleep, snoring softly against Tara’s neck. She ran a hand down her lover’s hair, listened to the tidal murmur of Buffy, Xander, and Anya whispering to one another. The sound and Willow’s warmth lulled her into sleep.
“Tara?”
The blonde woke with a start in the darkened living room. There was only one lamp on, casting a dim, honeyed glow in the corner. Buffy was looking down at her with a little smile.
“I'm sorry to wake you, Tare,” Buffy said. “It’s getting late, I thought the two of you should have something to eat.”
“Thanks, Buffy, but I’m not really hungry.”
She looked down at Willow, the redhead was still sound asleep, her mouth hanging just a little slack. She was pale, but looked as young, as innocent and untarnished, as the day she’d walked into the Wicca club meeting.
“Is Xander still here?” Tara asked the slayer.
“He drove Anya back over to the Magic Box,” Buffy replied. “Why, what’s up?”
“I was thinking that maybe I should get her cleaned up and into bed,” Tara whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Willow’s head. “I think she’d be more comfortable in our bed.”
“There’s no denying that. Lucky for you, no man needed, slayer strength will save the day.” Buffy tilted her head, watching Willow’s slumber. “Let’s wake her up first, though. I don’t want to startle her.”
“Okay,” Tara replied, kissing Willow’s hair again.
“I’ll be right back, let me grab the first aid kit.”
Buffy walked out of the room and Tara kissed Willow’s cheek. “Love, wake up,” she whispered.
“Uh, no,” Willow groaned pitiably. “Wanna stay asleep with you, Tara.”
“Let’s go sleep in our bed, Willow.”
“Couch is comfy.”
“The bed is more comfy,” Tara said, chuckling. The little laugh felt almost scratchy in her throat. She had a startling realization that she was hoarse from screaming. The day’s events came careening back, she felt fire burning in her shoulders, heard herself scream. When she tensed, Willow sat up a bit, taking her hands.
“You okay, baby?” Willow whispered.
Tara nodded because she didn’t want to sob, but felt a tear slip inexorably down her cheek. Willow reached up and caught it with her thumb.
“Of course you’re not, I’m so sorry he hurt you, baby,” the redhead replied, staring down at the bruised abrasions on Tara’s wrists. “You’re right, we should go to bed.”
“Let’s get cleaned up first, is that okay?” Tara said in a tiny voice. “We could both use some bandaging up.”
“Okay,” Willow agreed, she nodded and then leaned back against Tara. “Whatever you need, love.”
“Just you, Will,” Tara choked. “I just need you.”
“You’ve got me.”
“Forever?” Tara asked.
Willow pressed her lips to the blonde’s cheek. “You’re stuck with me.”
Buffy walked in with the first aid kit in hand. Despite her protests that she could walk, the slayer scooped Willow into her arms and carried upstairs to the bathroom, Tara following behind at a far slower pace, taking each step with exaggerated care.
“Allow me.”
Tara tensed and then blushed as Giles stepped up beside her. “Sorry,” the witch whispered, “I'm a little jumpy.”
“I shouldn’t have snuck up on you,” the watcher replied. “Forgive me. Can I offer you an arm?”
“Please.”
Tara leaned on Giles heavily, when they came to the landing Buffy walked out of the bathroom and gave a little wave toward the doorway.
“She’s right inside. Call us if you need us?”
Tara nodded and patted Giles’s arm. “I can make it from here. Thank you.”
“Please do call us if you need us,” the watcher murmured. “You’ve both been through a great deal, no need to risk hurting yourself further.”
“Promise,” Tara replied.
She walked into the bathroom and found Willow sitting on the sage green bath mat, leaning back against the tub with her head resting on the wall. The redhead looked so small curled up there, Tara couldn’t help but think of the night she’d left her lover, months before, wondered if it was the same place Willow had curled in her grief.
“Hi Tare,” Willow said in a shaky voice, looking up at her with a smile.
Tara felt her worries and regrets swept away by the clear adoration on Willow’s face.
“Hi love,” she replied, settling to her knees in front of Willow. The bandages on the girl’s face, her arms and hands and leg, were gray with dirt and wear. “Let’s get these off and we’ll get a bath, okay?”
“Kay,” Willow said softly. Her eyes fluttered shut as Tara began peeling paper tape away from her left forearm.
For Tara it was telling of her lover’s exhaustion that she’d failed to joke about them bathing together. Once she was done peeling off the first bandage, Tara literally had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from gasping. The girl had a strip of skin torn away, leaving raised, abraded tissue behind. Tara leaned over Willow’s body and turned on the faucet, letting the water run to warm. While she waited for it to heat up she removed the winding bandage from Willow’s leg, the bandages on her cheek and neck. Tara’s hands were trembling, her eyes welling with tears, by the time she was finished.
As she leaned over Willow again to pull the stopper and fill the tub, scattering a handful of lavender bath salts on the surface of the water. As she settled back down, the redhead looked up at her with a grateful smile that faded the moment she saw Tara’s grief.
“Tara,” Willow said anxiously, “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Tara whispered, but a tear slipped down her face. “Sorry,” she said, choking even as she forced a laugh.
“Hey,” Willow said, pulling Tara down into her arms. “Don’t overdo it.”
“I’m fine,” Tara protested. “But you,” more tears fell as she cupped Willow’s unwounded cheek. “You’re hurt so badly, baby. I’m so sorry.”
“Tara,” Willow said gently, “You have a black eye and the whole left side of your face is a bruise. Look at your wrists, baby,” she said, lifting Tara’s hands. A four-inch swath on both arms was scraped and red, surrounded by bruised flesh. “I don’t think I’ve cornered the market on being hurt.”
“I need you to be okay,” Tara sobbed. “I don’t want you to be in pain.”
Willow knew her lover wasn’t just talking about her physical wounds. “I’ll heal, Tara,” she said earnestly. “And you’ll heal. We’ll heal together,” she said with a little smile, pulling her weeping lover into her arms. “We’ll be okay, Tare.”
“We’ll be okay,” the blonde repeated. She turned and pressed her lips to Willow’s unmarred cheek. “Thank you. All right,” she said, leaning back and swiping tears off her cheeks. “Time to get in the tub. We’ll get cleaned up and bandaged up, and then we can rest.”
“For a whole day?” Willow asked wistfully. “Do you think this warrants a day off from disasters and apocalypse?”
“I vote we take a whole week,” Tara said, kissing Willow on the tip of the nose. “A week just for rest.”
“And maybe smoochies?”
“That could be arranged,” Tara agreed. She felt so much love she thought her heart would burst with it.
My sweet, resilient girl.
Tara and Willow each helped the other undress, piling their clothes in the corner to go out with the trash—there was no salvaging them. As they climbed into the tub, giggling weakly as they each tried to help the other, they touched with tender grace, hands caressing unmarred flesh with nothing but affection and gratitude. Tara slipped in first, and Willow settled down in front of her, leaning back and closing her eyes, basking in the warmth of Tara’s skin against her skin. The giggles gave way to little hisses as the water prickled wounds, to tears and soft sobs, as the women held onto each other in the warm, fragrant water.
After the tears had slowed, Tara gave Willow’s arm a little squeeze and then reached over for the bottle of antibacterial body wash on the corner of the tub. She let a little pile of soap drizzle into her hands and then she began to carefully wash Willow, building a thick layer of lather that she spread on feather-light over her abraded flesh. She took a firmer hand on Willow’s shoulders, kneading knots out of her lover’s muscles with a deft touch that left the smaller girl sighing with pleasure. Willow gasped when Tara’s hands moved over her chest, though there was no teasing or little love pinch along the way, just a gentle thoroughness.
I adore you, Willow thought to Tara.
More every second.
You’re very sweet, love, now try to relax and enjoy your bath.
“Yes ma’am,” Willow murmured. The hint of sauciness in her voice, that glimpse of the old Willow, left a slow, crooked grin spreading across Tara’s face.
She couldn’t reach any lower than Willow’s navel, and so the redhead let Tara fill her hands with soap, reaching down to quickly clean her groin, legs, and feet. While she was occupied washing the long wound on her right leg, Tara began to shampoo Willow’s hair, massaging her scalp.
Willow’s eyes drifted closed as she finished washing her foot, letting herself fall backward against Tara, her lower body relaxing into a float as the massage of her scalp continued. After Tara rinsed Willow’s hair, cupping handful after handful of warm water over the auburn locks, Willow turned on her side, snuggling against her soul mate.
“You need to get clean too,” she told Tara.
“I’m on it,” Tara replied. She kissed Willow on the top of the head as she reached up and began shampooing her own hair.
“Soap,” Willow demanded, holding up a hand.
“You should just relax, Will.”
“Soap,” she repeated, waving her hand.
“Okay,” Tara laughed. She let a dollop of soap into Willow’s hand and went back to scrubbing her own hair. As Willow hands moved over her face, down her neck, to her shoulders, Tara hands grew slower and slower, till finally they were just resting on the top of her head. Willow paused in her ministrations. “You’re making it hard for me concentrate on shampooing, you know.”
“It’s nice to know I can still distract you,” Willow teased softly. She washed Tara’s chest, lingering just for a second before she dipped down to soap her stomach.
“I better finish from there,” Tara replied, taking Willow’s hands in her own and rubbing them to take the lather.
“That’s no fun.”
“Just being here with you is all the fun I need, Will.”
“You’re a wise woman, Tare,” Willow sighed, leaning back against her lover’s chest. “How did you get so wise?”
“Many days spent doing research, and, of course, many nights spent with the love of my life,” Tara said. She dipped her hand down in the water to rinse off the shampoo, and stroked Willow’s side.
“Days and nights, huh?” Willow asked.
“Especially the nights,” Tara laughed.
“That’s my girl,” Willow said, sounding smug.
“Help me rinse my hair?” Tara asked.
Once both women were clean, they made their way gingerly out of the tub. They took turns drying each other with towels on their unwounded skin, followed by careful and delicate work with sterile pads to dry their damaged flesh. Tara bandaged Willow’s wounds with slow and tender care, trimming gauze and tape to perfectly follow the path of each abrasion. When she was done, Willow bandaged Tara’s wrists and gathered up all the wrappers, dropping them into the trashcan.
“All clean and bandaged,” Willow said wistfully, giving Tara a little smile.
“Do you need me to get Buffy or Xander to carry you to the room?”
“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” Willow chuckled.
Tara stood and pulled a robe off the back of the bathroom door and held it out to Willow.
“Why don’t we see if we can make it on our own, then?” The blonde asked. “We should give the others some time to rest too.” She helped Willow to her feet, helping to guide her arms into the thick sleeves.
“Okay, now your turn,” Willow said. She kissed Tara and took a few shaky steps to the door, and then turned and held out another robe. “No one gets to see naked Tara. Naked Tara is private Tara.”
“Nobody?” Tara asked, tying her robe shut.
“Well,” Willow said, blushing and taking a step closer to Tara. “There is a simple mathematical equation that explains the situation perfectly.”
“Math?” Tara replied, wrinkling her nose. “Really?”
“Hey, math can be good,” Willow protested, taking another step. “You see it’s very simple. Tara,” she said, pointing at her lover, “Plus private time, equals Willow.” She pointed at herself.
Tara laughed and pulled her lover into a hug, kissing her forehead. “That’s the first time math’s ever made sense to me.”
“Glad I could help,” Willow replied.
“You always help,” Tara said. They held in their embrace for a long moment, but then Tara noticed that Willow was shaking, head to foot. “Are you okay?” She asked, pulling Willow closer.
“I’m just so glad you’re here,” Willow murmured.
“I’m glad you’re here too.” She closed her eyes and pressed a kiss to Willow’s forehead. “So glad. Now, let’s go to bed.” Tara took Willow’s hand in hers and looped it through her arm, then led the slender witch out into the hallway. “Just one step at a time, okay?”
“To the bedroom as in life,” Willow joked, clinging to Tara’s arm.
“Goddess I love to hear you happy,” Tara replied, taking a careful step forward and pausing to let Willow catch up.
“Do I need to give you a another mathematical equation that explains the ratio of Willow happiness to Tara presence?” The redhead asked. The world swum for a moment and she rocked back on her heels.
“You’re sure you’re all right?” Tara asked urgently, tightening her grip on Willow’s arm.
“A little tippy,” Willow admitted.
“I’ve got you, love,” Tara said softly. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Willow felt like a little old woman, bowed over, clutching to her lover’s arm. She looked up at Tara and found the blonde smiling down at her. The sight of it flooded Willow with joy. She threw her arms around Tara’s waist and they stopped there in the hall, just holding each other. After a minute they started walking again and took the last few steps to their bedroom. Once they were inside, Tara wordlessly slipped the robe off of Willow’s shoulders, and then removed her own, throwing them over the desk. Tara walked Willow to the bed, helped her sit, and then went over and closed the bedroom door. She froze there, with the doorknob in her hand.
“Tara?” Willow asked. “You okay?”
“Yes,” Tara replied, but her voice was shaking. She reached out and touched the wood molding that framed the door. Her hand slid along the smooth white-varnished surface, until she came to the large, splintered circle where Mears’s bullet had hit the frame.
“Tara?” Willow repeated.
“This bullet killed me,” she whispered hoarsely.
“No,” Willow said. She stood up and stumbled over to the door, wrapping her arms around Tara. “It didn’t happen. You’re okay, baby. You’re safe now.”
“Because of you,” Tara said, turning around in Willow’s arms. She took her lover’s face in her hands and kissed her softly. “Because of you.” Tara pressed her forehead to Willow’s. “Thank you.”
“Let’s lay down,” Willow replied, walking them backward toward the bed.
“Okay,” Tara said, nodding. “Be careful.”
“You won’t let me fall,” Willow said with a little smile.
Tara remembered the site of bright red hair, streaking below the edge of the earth. It took everything in her not to shudder.
“Never,” she replied.
They sat down on the bed side by side with their arms wrapped around one another, offering silent comfort. Every so often one would offer the other a soft, warm kiss.
“Can we lay like we did in the tub?” Willow asked, snuggling closer to Tara. “I want to hear your heart beating.”
Tara smiled and smoothed Willow’s hair, taming the little flyaway strands beginning to crop up as her hair dried. She reached back with her free hand and built up a stack of pillows, sliding back onto the bed and propping herself against them. Willow moved between her legs and Tara reached out, pulling the little redhead in close.
“Your favorite pillows,” she teased as Willow snuggled down on to Tara’s bosom with a little giggle.
“My favorite sound,” Willow replied. “Dub-thump.”
“We should sleep, baby,” Tara said, stroking Willow’s hair again and again. “Try to close your eyes and relax okay?”
Willow went quiet, but thoughts kept racing through her head. The two threads of her life, before and after the birthday wish, were blurring in her mind. So many things, terrible things, had happened in the days after Tara’s death. There were things she had to do, steps that needed to be taken, if she was going to protect herself, her family, to try and stop her old life from being realized again. She held herself perfectly still, forced her breathing to go slow and even, in the hopes that Tara would think she’d dozed off so that the blonde would get some rest too.
“I know you’re still awake love,” Tara murmured, pressing a kiss to Willow’s hair. “You have to let yourself sleep.”
“I’m afraid to,” Willow whispered.
Tara could feel the turmoil roiling in Willow’s head like a storm. “I’ll be here when you wake up, Willow, I promise.” She took a deep breath. “This isn’t a dream, Will. I'm really here.”
“I always want you to be here, Tara.”
“I always will be,” the blonde replied, squeezing Willow gently. “Nothing will ever separate us again. I promise.”
Willow shook her head, even as she held Tara tighter. “I can’t hold you to that promise.”
There was such sadness, a deep layer of despair in her words. “Willow?” Tara asked, voice trembling. “What’s wrong? What is it, baby?”
“I have to leave, Tara.” Willow said simply. “And I can’t expect you to pack up and leave school to follow me.”
“Leave?” Tara tried to sit up, but couldn’t move under Willow’s weight. “Why would you leave me, Willow?”
“No baby, no,” Willow said quickly. “It’s not like that.” The slender redhead turned over and sat between Tara’s legs, her chin on her knees. “There’s a place, in England, where I can get help with the magics. There are meditative techniques that…that I’ve learned, but I need to go through that practice under the supervision of people powerful enough to stop me. To stop me if something goes wrong.”
“You’ve been to this place before.” Tara said. It wasn’t a question.
Willow nodded. “Giles took me when—” She broke off, staring down at the bedspread.
“When I died,” Tara finished.
Willow nodded again. “I don’t know how long I’ll have to be there. I don’t expect you to give up your life for me.”
“And that’s where you’re a dummy,” Tara replied, reaching out to touch her lover’s face. “My life isn’t complete with you, Willow. Sunnydale, school, the Hellmouth, they’ll all still be here waiting for us when we get back.” She dropped her hand and stared into Willow’s eyes. “Please, don’t leave me behind.”
Willow laid herself back against Tara’s body. “I won’t,” she whispered, craning up for a kiss. “Thank you, Tara, for staying with me.”
“Always,” Tara replied. “I want to help you, Willow. I’ll always be here when you need me.”
They fell quiet again for a little while, Willow held safely in Tara’s arms, warmed by the long, strong legs on either side of her body. She ran a hand, slow and light, up Tara’s forearm to her elbow. The blonde’s skin was so smooth, so perfect and soft. Willow let her cheek slide back and forth, ever so slightly, over the skin of Tara’s breast.
It’s like silk and velvet had a baby, Willow thought happily. She felt desire warm her and broke out in gooseflesh.
“I want to hear your heart beat,” she murmured, brushing her cheek against Tara’s breast again.
“It is darling,” Tara murmured, kissing her hair. “Can’t you hear it?”
“I want it to beat faster,” Willow said in a low, sultry whisper.
“Faster?” Tara asked shakily, biting back a moan as Willow slid her hand down Tara’s neck, past the curve of her breast, and down toward her hip.
“Uh huh.”
“Is it faster now?” Tara asked as Willow’s hand trailed back up again, to end up brushing gently through her hair.
“A little,” Willow said. Tara could feel the curve of Willow’s smile against her skin. Willow pressed her lips against edge of Tara’s clavicle, brushed lightly with her tongue. “Still not fast enough.”
“Willow,” Tara began.
“Did I hurt you, baby?” Willow asked, pushing up off of Tara.
She looked so frightened. Tara quickly shook her head. “You didn’t, Willow, you didn’t hurt me at all. I just…I d-don’t want you to push yourself to hard, love. You need to rest.”
“I need you,” Willow said. “But I can wait love, I know you’re tired—”
She was silenced by the press of Tara’s fingers against her lips. “I need you, too, Will. I need to feel every inch of you.”
“Love you, Tara,” Willow said, running her hand up Tara’s side again, pausing to brush the underside of her right breast. The low groan Tara voiced in response made Willow smile.
“Love you,” the blonde witch replied, leaning down to kiss her.
For a long time they held one another, kissing softly, just the warm press of lip on lip. Neither could’ve said which one began the light and delicious strokes of tongue, but soon they were kissing wildly, all their need communicated through their mouths, the slide of tongues, and the gentle nips of teeth. They touched each other in feather-light brushes, every moment of contact meant to comfort, to avoid causing one-another any pain. Willow kissed her way down Tara’s neck, lovingly traced her collarbone, and then nuzzled back and forth as she settled back against Tara’s chest.
“Oh, Willow,” Tara cried, voice high and laced with pleasure as the redhead drew Tara’s nipple into her mouth, sucking it gently as she brushed it with her tongue.
Willow’s hand brushed up and down Tara’s side, stroking her breast again and again as her mouth worshiped the blonde. Tara’s heart was pounding wildly, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she ran her hands up and down Willow’s back. Still licking and sucking, Willow’s hand slid down from Tara’s breast, over the smooth skin of her stomach, the curve of her hip, parted golden curls into the wet wonder of her lover.
Pausing only to murmur her love again, Willow flicked her tongue against Tara’s breast as she slid two fingers back and into her beloved’s body.
Tara called out wordlessly, arching her hips into Willow’s slow, gentle thrusts. Willow began to draw Tara into her mouth, brush her rock-hard nipple against her tongue, in time with each movement of her fingers.
As Willow loved her, Tara let her hands roam all over the redhead’s body, the warm and smooth paradise of her skin. She let her hands move between their bodies, over Willow’s breasts, brushing her nipples and then cupping both breasts in the palm of her hands. The sigh of delight that was Willow’s reply sent amazing vibrations through Tara’s chest. Tara alternated between caressing and gently kneading Willow’s chest, moving her hands in the same rhythm that her lover moved within her.
When she couldn’t bear waiting for another moment, Willow began to rock her hips in time with Tara’s movements, hoping for some relief from the tension building in her. She felt one of Tara’s hands slide down her stomach, brush along the inside of each of her thighs. Willow released her hold on Tara’s nipple long enough to moan the girl’s name, and took her in again just as the blonde’s long, supple fingers cupped her mons. Willow gasped and Tara’s hand stilled.
“Are you okay?” Tara asked, her voice high and breathy as she stilled her hips, fighting the urge to move against Willow’s hand, the fingers curled so deliciously inside her.
“You didn’t hurt me,” Willow replied soothingly. “Tara,” Willow repeated, looking up into her lover’s eyes as she began to thrust into her again. “You didn’t hurt me.”
“Good,” Tara groaned, moving her hips in time with Willow. “Oh, so good.”
Willow’s pace increased ever so slightly, the movement of her mouth, her hand, in response to the sensation of Tara’s fingers slipping between her lips. She rocked her hips in rhythm with the gentle swirl of fingers around her clitoris, stretching up to crush her mouth to Tara’s as the circle shrunk, tightened, rubbing over the most sensitive part of her.
Time seemed to still as they pleasured each other with utter tenderness, silent except for the occasional soft gasp. Neither girl could tell where her own pleasure ended and the pleasure of her lover began. As they loved physically, they loved mind-to-mind, soul-to-soul, silent cries of pleasure echoing. The tension in each of them began to build, Tara and Willow found themselves pulled, inexorably, toward sweet, aching release. As the passion and pleasure between them built higher and higher, they began to weep. But the tears caused no concern, no strain, because each felt the other’s joy—joy that they were together, that they’d found their way back to one another, even through death itself.
As climax burned a fire through Willow and Tara, they shared a glorious refrain:
She lives, she is in the world, she lives, my love lives.
And then they slept, deep and dreamless, in the shelter of their embrace, in the knowledge that they were, and always would be, together.
END OF PART 1
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) This has been such an intense trip for them and I cannot wait to see where you take them next! I love that Willow's still going to be responsible about her power, and I'm glad Tara's going with her!
. I think the debt she has to pay is more than worth having Tara around, alive and happy 
. Glad I could help with the writer's block!
