[center]Relinquished Symmetry[/center]
Disclaimer: Many rich people own BTVS and its characters…I am not one of them.
Rating: R
Author’s Notes: This storyline takes everything up to halfway through New Moon Rising as the gospel. I have made a BIG change that may make some kittens ‘thwack’ me with a shovel…or, more appropriately, a sledgehammer. Also, some of the dynamics of Angel have been altered to suit me. This is an angsty piece.
Addt’l note: A few pieces of dialogue come from the show (This Year’s Girl, NMR, Fear Itself, etc.).
Feedback: Of any sorts…sure. On the board is fine. No posting elsewhere without my consent.
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PART 20
Willow knew, by the way Tara placed the items in her hands, that she was holding something very important to blonde. It was a piece of her history…a truth. Amid the secrets, heartache, and lies that left her not knowing who the real Tara was, it was a welcomed piece of information. Even as the blonde explained the horrific details from what at first glance seemed to be simply a short letter and a remarkable pencil sketch.
“My mother wrote this just before she died. A lawyer gave it to me the day after we buried her in the ground. I was seventeen.” Tara looked hard at the detailed drawing. “Some mothers leave their daughters clothes…jewelry. My mother left me a legacy. She told me when I turned twenty years old I would become a demon.” Tara pointed to the sketch. “That demon.”
Willow made an unintended gasp under her breath. Tara continued on.
“The letter says that every woman in our family is part demon…it’s where the magick comes from. It’s what makes us defiant and sinful. I was so angry at first. How dare she hide this from me…how dare she change my life with four paragraphs…how dare she die and leave me…” Tara’s agitation turned into a short spurted pace from one window to the other. Willow couldn’t imagine what was bombarding the blonde’s mind as she watched so many flashes pass over her wandering eyes.
“I did a lot of stupid things after she died. I figured it didn’t matter if my life was over anyway. Daddy started getting on me then…skipping school, staying out all night…” Tara sighed sadly. “It was shortly after that when he began talking of the demon. How it needed to be controlled…contained…especially if it was already starting to change my behavior.”
Tara’s arms curled around herself and she began holding her sides tight. What she didn’t expect was Willow’s hand grasping her forearm…holding on with her. Tara covered Willow’s hand with her own and gave the redhead a meaningful look of appreciation. As Willow’s hand dropped to her side once more, Tara’s demeanor still spoke volumes about how much that one little gesture meant.
A troubled line creased on Willow’s face as she cautiously approached her question. “He hurt you?”
“He did a lot worse than that.”
Willow’s breathing became fast and her heart began aggressively beating…as if trying to claw out and battle anyone who would even consider an action against the woman before her. The magick in her veins churned to the surface…ready to attack in an instant.
Tara felt it too…it was a pulse too strong to miss. “Please don’t Will…there’s already been too much hate.”
The plea slowly cooled her, both the words and the gentleness flowing across their connection. Whatever she needs, Willow’s mind echoed.
“I decided to get out of there. The only way I could was to obey and fill the mold that he wanted. I cleaned up my grades…did everything asked of me. Daddy backed off some after that. I knew if I could get a scholarship, I could leave. That's what I did. I closed that screen door one year later without telling anyone where I was going. I walked out on my whole childhood because I hoped to find a way to change my fate.”
Tara sat on the bed, momentarily grasping at empty air for what to say next. “I didn’t find my cure in Sunnydale…but I found something so much more.” The witch trapped Willow in an intense gaze. “I found you.”
It was the sincere and direct way Tara recounted the story, as if she was just stating fact and not fancifully interpreting events that made Willow’s heart pound in her chest once more… but this time there was no revenge or anger. She loved me, didn’t she?
“Why didn’t you let me help you? I knew about demons…I had resources.” Willow finally asked as she took a seat beside her. There was no harshness…no lashing out to protect herself. Just something that Willow needed to ask and she hoped Tara would answer.
It wasn’t exactly an unexpected question for Tara. It was one she had asked herself many times before. After all – a slayer, a watcher, a guy with years of demon fighting experience, and a witch with amazing research skills saw this sort of evil everyday. They would’ve been more help than any of the people that she hoped to seek when she left the solitude of her dorm room to start attending Wicca meetings.
But (and there was always a but)…
She never expected to feel what she did for Willow…and as her love grew, sometimes all she could see at night was the claws she would one day have tearing through her light freckled skin. When she woke, her mother’s written words would echo in her mind. The demon is a killer, my darling girl. Please do the right thing and harm none with this burden cast upon you. Stay with your family…they’re the only ones who will understand your curse and care for you still.
Yes, Tara had indeed expected this question, but when it was finally asked she found herself unable to answer.
Willow glanced down at the gruesome portrait in her hands. Would I have stayed if I thought I was this? She moved her index finger over the reptilian like skin, the glassy eyes so masterfully drawn that somehow they shined menacing and cold. There were small rows of razor sharp teeth and the even more frightful bladelike claws. I don’t know. Willow flipped the page and read the shocking and terrifying warning. How did you bear this alone?
Finally the words reached her throat. “That was my mistake, Willow. I thought I was protecting you from what I would become but that’s not it at all. Or not all of it.” She shook her head. “I was afraid you would take one look at who I really was and leave me. Sure you’d try to help me…maybe you’d solve my problem…maybe not. What I couldn’t take was that ‘we’ weren’t real. I didn’t want what was so good to be a lie too.” Soft tears formed as she bared her heart and ran gently down her face. She made no move to wipe them away, as if they were something she had long ago become accustom to feeling. A natural spring that slowly but constantly supplied an unknown lake.
No matter how hardened she thought she might be, Willow was not immune to such a display. She wiped away the tears even as she felt her own form. Once again she felt their connection but it was more subdued…the side effects of the spell seemed to be receding.
Tara leaned into the touch, knowing she shouldn’t but finding no other course of action that would otherwise soothe. “I’m sorry Willow…I’m so, so sorry.” She moved her head on the redhead’s shoulder and slowly rained down more sorrow on her thin shirt.
Willow slowly placed the hand that had been touching her cheek to the back of her head. She reverently stroked her hair, feeling Tara sob into her body once…twice…before calming. Willow wasn’t certain how long she sat with Tara in her arms. It seemed far too short but at the same time it felt like an act that spanned forever. There was naturalness to how she felt…it meant more than the constructs they both had built to face each other. They weren’t clashing or grinding, pretending or attacking – they were simply fitting.
After another moment, or a hundred, it was hard to measure at that point, Willow began to think that Tara had fallen asleep on her perch. “How can you be so strong?” she whispered, mostly to herself, in a state of awe.
Tara sharply snickered, pulling herself upright once more. “You think I’m really strong when I soak your nice shirt and ruin it?”
“It’s Dawnie’s,” she replied with a wry smile that Tara matched after a moment. “And you know what I mean.”
“I do,” she murmured quietly, crossing her arms over each other, subconsciously bracing herself for the rest of the telling. “It wasn’t until I met Wes and spent months scanning mug shots of demons and subjecting myself to so many mystical tests did I realize something.”
“What?” Willow asked curiously.
“My mother was a wonderful artist. She used to draw pictures of my brother Donnie and me. They looked so real. No one ever told me that a picture could just be a figment of someone’s imagination…and nothing more. I like to think that momma never knew the demon wasn’t real. Maybe she didn’t know that this was all a story in my daddy’s head. I’m not so sure of that anymore. But it’s just easier to think that she didn’t. So I do.”
It was a lie? Willow was without words. This was so far beyond anything she ever imagined. Her mind fitfully jumped to the infamous ‘what if?’ Wondering just how much their pasts had devastated them both. She realized then it was easy to analyze the past, see the mistakes with clarity, and know how to make the corrections. It was much harder to go the other way…to see the now and look for a future. But there were words deep inside Willow and she found the strength to ask rather than hide.
“Where are we now, Tara?”
Tara understood what she wanted to know but found herself unable to fathom why she wanted to know it. Unless…what if she feels it too? She blocked her connection because it wasn’t her place to see what she wanted to know this way. She moved her hand to the smaller woman’s knee and lightly squeezed. “What do you think we can be, Willow?”
Willow raked a hand through her hair, the stress and strain of the day taking hold of her body and mind. “I don’t know.” It was simple and honest. “I need time. I’m not sure I can change and yet so much has already changed…I'm not sure if I understand anything. Definitely not who I am or where I should be. I think I've got to know that first."
The blonde nodded...she could relate. I didn’t expect to change things, but at least she has the truth. Tara moved to the desk and picked up her keys. “I should probably go. Give you some space.”
“Can you take me home? I don’t feel well enough to go on my own.” The redhead’s voice was small, fearful, and, perhaps, a little hopeful?
Tara extended a hand and helped her from the bed. Tonight she could be her protector…that was enough.
Because maybe things have changed after all.
But, I really felt the need to jump in after this update.
for you. Heehee just kidding.
What a bold move Tara made with the kissage on the bed. Spell or no spell, nice move. 
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