All the previous disclaimers still apply.
I'd love to hear what you think. This update is a bit heavy. I hope you enjoy it.
Part 7The numb silence of the room was thick, heartbreaking. Patrick’s little eyes poured an endless stream of grief. He stared at the woman that he’d always known as his mother, the truth of their family history spilling out from her lips. Willow and Buffy stood behind them, waiting to be what the people they loved needed.
Tara continued to explain. “Patrick, you have to understand that all of the things that I’m telling you happened before you were alive.” He nodded as she continued. “Your father was my only brother but he never loved me. Not like you love Abbey.” The thought of his cousin being considered his sister made his tiny heart reach hopefulness. He drew his sleeve across his face to wipe the tears.
Tara continued. “When I was your age, your father was already very mean to me and I remember feeling all the things I can see on your face. I would blame myself. I would cry every night.” She stood from the bed and walked toward the seat of the window. She could see her daughter riding in the yard. ”This is the house where I grew up and I have cried in every room of it.”
Patrick was unsure how to respond. The information he was hearing terrified him. He turned to disguise his fear.
Tara recognized his expression. “Don’t be afraid, honey.” She moved back toward the child. She held her hand to his and waited for him to take it. “It wasn’t my fault then, Patrick, and it was not your fault either. Donnie was just angry, angry at the world.”
He could feel the honesty of her love moving in to protect him. “How come he was so mad?” The child was beginning to put the information together, piecing the parts of his shattered past into a haunting mosaic.
“I don’t know, really.” She felt his fingers squeeze around her hand. “My daddy was a lot like him. Maybe he taught Donnie how to be that way.”
“Did your daddy break you?”
The simple question, forged from pure innocence, caught Tara off guard. Of course she hadn’t been beaten as severely nor had an injury that required years of therapy but she had faced the same callous anger. “Only on the inside.”
The confession between the two surviving Maclays made the bile in Buffy’s stomach churn. She could feel it forcing its way up her throat. Her fatherless childhood left her empty in spaces that she wished could be passed to her broken friends. She left the room, quickly racing out into the yard. She circled to the backside of the barn and released her breakfast into an empty feed bucket.
Al stopped pitching bedding into the stalls as the sound of the Slayer’s heaving caught his attention. He walked around the barn door, worried about Buffy. “Something you ate?” He stepped cautiously forward.
“Something I couldn’t digest.” She dropped to the ground. The slayer raised an exhausted arm to wipe her mouth. There were battles in her past, fighting that would remove every ounce of slayer strength, but the emotion of the moment ripped through her like her fiercest rival.
Al stood in silence. He was a patient man and he knew the Slayer was a private woman. He stepped closer to offer the handkerchief from his pocket.
Buffy reached for the soft blue linen. “Thanks.” She wiped her face and handed it back to him.
“It’s not a problem.” He shoved it into his back pocket and reached to help her from the ground.
The Slayer took hold and felt his strength lift her to her feet. It was the first time she’d felt vulnerable. She noticed the pitchfork beside him. “I’m interrupting you?”
“Nothing that won’t keep. The kids have the horses out so I thought I’d do a few chores while they played.” He stomped a foot across the top of the arched metal, driving the tool into the ground, his other hand still holding tight to the Slayer’s.
His grip was strong but gentle. Something she hadn’t remembered possible from a man. “You’re a good guy, Al.” After weeks at the ranch she was finally able to appreciate the man she’d been distracted from. Their previous encounters were brief but sparked a lingering curiosity.
He smiled. “I just do what needs to be done. Not sure you can measure me up for doing that.”
She pulled her hand away, feeling a sudden rush of embarrassment. “I just mean for being a man, you’re not the monster that this town seems to turn out.”
“Well truth be told…” he grinned. “I’m not from here.” He slipped his hands into his pockets.
“So you just showed up one day to toss hay?” She slapped her legs, dusting the length of her pants.
“I worked with Tara at the cultural center.” He took off his hat to swoosh the dust coming off the slayer. “And yea, basically. I needed a new start and Tara offered me one.”
“Did you work at the center long?” Buffy interrogated. For the first time in weeks her mind focused on someone besides Patrick. She was stumped. Her thoughts were sifting through all the people she’d met there.
“I was there for a while.” He slipped the hat back on his head. “I was very different then; very quiet, keeping to myself.”
“Oh, so I guess I wouldn’t remember you?” She felt his evasive nervousness.
“No, I was behind the scenes a lot. I like to blend in.” He pulled the fork from the soil. “You want to help?”
The slayer thought the laborious chores might aid in venting her frustration. “Toss some grass stuff?”
“Yes, grass stuff.” He smiled. “Unless you need to be inside with young Patrick?”
“Need, no. Want to be, yes.” She grabbed the pitchfork. “It’s pretty heavy in there.”
“Yea, I figured from earlier.” He led her into the stables. “I guess he doesn’t know everything about Donnie and Brenda?”
Buffy stopped. “What?” His comment made her angry. “What do you mean?”
“About how he got his injuries and his father’s death.” He grabbed a second pitchfork from the wall.
The slayer felt her shoulders tense. “How do you know all of this?”
“Willow and Tara. Like I said, we go way back.” He pitched a large clump of straw into the stall, particles from the dry covering filling the air between them.
“You should be careful what you discuss when it comes to my family.” She copied his actions. Her pile caught a draft through the barn and lofted a chunk back toward her.
“I’m always very careful.” He stabbed his fork into the half split bale, moving to swipe the straw from the Slayer’s face and shoulders. His hand motioned to clear the front of her shirt. He stopped sharply. “Perhaps you should get that bit there.” He pointed to her chest.
“Right, got it.” She nervously cleared off her t-shirt. “I just meant people shouldn’t be discussing the family of other certain people. Little people might overhear you.”
“Well, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I tend to keep to myself.”
The slayer realized that she knew very little about the man in front of her and oddly, she wanted to remedy that. “I have to admit that I haven’t noticed much since last month. I’m just saying that if Patrick or Abbey heard people gossiping it…” She stopped. The words resounded in her head.
“What?” He questioned.
“Does the entire staff know about Brenda and Donnie?”
His face became very serious. “The Maclay family had a lot of power in this town. I can’t imagine that anyone would have missed what happened.”
Buffy turned sharply, running out the barn and into the house. Without a comment to Al she raced inside to find Willow and Tara. The redhead was standing outside the boy’s room. She stiffened as the Slayer ran in.
“Buffy, what’s wrong?” She could see the Slayer’s dusty clothes. “Is it Abbey?”
She looked confused. “Abbey is still out riding.” She noticed Patrick wrapped in Tara’s arms. The room was still, but the raw sorrow looped through every crevasse of the space. “Is he crying?”
“They haven’t stopped.” Willow stared into the room.
“How does she do it, Will?” Her voice seeped with envy.
The redhead understood the question’s direction. “I don’t know, Buff. Somehow she just does.”
The slayer smiled. “When I grow up I want to be just like her.”
Willow raised a brow. “Just… like her?”
Buffy stared nervously, volleying between the women. “Well not just, as just as I can without…” She shrugged suggestively. “You know?”
“Just not gay.” The redhead couldn’t help but smile.
“Right, totally not gay. I’m of the ungay variety.” She felt a soft hand on her shoulder.
“It’s okay, Buffy. We can accept that you aren’t queer. We’re alright with your hetero status.” The redhead teased.
The slayer looked very serious. “Thanks, Will.”
They turned to watch Tara slip away from the exhausted boy. His face was flushed and his body fatigued. The blonde wiped the tears from her face. Willow accepted her with open arms. “How’s he doing?”
“It was hard. That’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” Her head tipped to Willow’s shoulder. “I don’t know how I thought I could keep all of this from him.”
“You couldn’t, baby.” Her arms wrapped firmly around the blonde. They stepped from the sleeping child’s doorway out into the calm of the living room.
The building was arranged very similar to a standard home. The rooms had been modified to accommodate people with special needs but it still had a country feel.
Willow and Tara rested in each other’s arms. Buffy flopped into a worn rocking chair, the weight of her leg slung over the armrest.
“So did he seem to understand things?” The Slayer hesitated. Her eyes concentrated on the blonde.
Tara pressed tighter into her lover’s embrace. “He had a lot of questions. I guess I just didn’t think they would all come now.”
“How did you do that, Tara?” Buffy crossed her arms across her lap. “I couldn’t even listen.”
The blonde leaned toward the slayer. “I know his pain.” She felt a soft hand run the length of her spine. “I gave him the one thing I always wanted but could never get after I lost my mother. I can’t imagine how scared that boy was at the hand of my own brother.” She closed her eyes.
“I was talking to Al about that earlier.” She felt her body tighten with anger. “He mentioned Brenda and Donnie.” The Rosenbergs didn’t react. “I had this idea.”
Willow smiled. “With Al?” The redhead reached to pull a piece of straw from the Slayer’s hair. “Talking?”
Buffy swatted Willow’s hand. “Yes, talking.” She enjoyed seeing the smile on Tara’s face. “Stop it.” She grabbed the straw from Willow.
“Oh, but your cheeks are so cute when they get rosy red.” Tara teased.
“Stop it.” She sighed. “Do you want to hear what I was thinking?”
“About Al.” Willow harassed. “Sure.”
“About your son.” Her voice was agitated.
“What about him?” The redhead sat forward, wrapping an arm around her lover.
“Well Al was mentioning Brenda and Donnie and it seems that since our arrival there’s been some gossiping among the employees and residents here.”
“And you think Patrick heard it.”
“I’m pretty sure that he did.”
Tara stood up from the couch. “Where?” She wrapped her arms around herself. “When?”
“I can’t be sure, Tara, but if you think about it, it makes a lot of sense.”
“How so, Buffy?” Willow pulled her wife back beside her.
Tara quickly put it all together. “He overheard someone talking about Donnie, they must have been talking about how he hurt Patrick.” She looked at her wife. “He must have been thinking about this for awhile and put all of those ideas together.”
“Oh goddess, Tara. No wonder he was so confused.” The redhead left the room. Her temper was to the point of rage. She walked out the door and circled around behind the building. She noticed her daughter immediately.
Abbey greeted her with a smile. “Hi ma. You should have seen us today. It was amazing.”
The sound of her daughter’s happiness softened the edge of her anger. “That’s wonderful Abbey girl. I want to hear everything.” She hugged her. “Why don’t you go in and give mom a hug. I think she could really use one.”
Abbey questioned. “Is she alright?”
“She is. But Patrick had a rough afternoon.” She swished her arm, guiding the child toward the house. “I think they could both use a glimpse of that beautiful Bennett smile of yours.”
Abbey waved at Willow, playing down the compliment. “I’ll come back and help Al with the tack in a little bit.” She ran toward the house.
“I’ll let him know.” She watched her child go inside. The redhead switched off the gentleness and easily found that point of rage again. “AL!” She yelled at her loudest level. The entire yard of employees turned to watch the redhead.
He ran out quickly. He wondered if Buffy’s earlier revelation was the cause. “What’s up, Willow?” His voice was ragged from running.
“I want you to call all the employees. I want every volunteer that has been on grounds since we got here.” The tone of her voice demanded action.
The tall, thin man hadn’t felt like an employee until that moment. Willow had drawn a clear line between them. “When?”
The angry woman snapped back. “Now!”
He didn’t hesitate for a second. He radioed every employee and had everyone with the day off called in. There were no excuses. He was quick to tell them all. In less then an hour every available member of staff was sitting inside the largest barn. Al was nervous, uncertain if Willow’s anger was directed at him. Her friendship meant everything to him and the ranch offered a safe place that he’d never had until the day of his arrival.
The Rosenbergs entered the barn. Buffy waited in the house with Patrick and Abbey. They’d spent that hour talking with the boy. He’d confided that he’d overheard people talking in the kitchen. He couldn’t identify them by name and was afraid to but he did share that it was the root of his confusion. There was a level of ferocity that few of the people present had ever experienced in the two women before them. The blonde, always with a gentle aura, was visibly rigid with anger. She stood forward from her wife, eager to address all of them.
Her first words set the tone. “Full time staff members, I love you all but I’m giving you notice right now. If I ever hear one word of gossip about my family you will be fired immediately.” She turned toward the assembled volunteers. “All of you here, a lot of you are from town. Some of you are from Sunnydale but one of you, perhaps more then one, have injured my family deeper then any wound my sister-in-law ever inflicted.”
Willow nodded.
“Everyone here is aware of Patrick’s injuries. You know the nature of his parents’ relationship. It’s impossible to avoid.” Her demeanor was calm but her voice had an eerie harshness. “But someone here was talking and our son heard it. Your gossip hurt him, hurt me.” Her voice broke as she fought back tears. “If it was only me I’d just ask you to be respectful but Patrick can’t hear his family history whispered in the back of the barn or cackled over scrambled eggs.” She hesitated.
Willow continued. “What’s happened stops now.” Her tone commanded attention. “There will be no mention of the Maclay family here. As long as you step on these grounds you’ll not mention Donnie or Brenda or Steven Maclay.”
Tara winced at the mention of her father. It was a name she dreaded to hear.
A young brunette woman raised her hand. “Miss Tara?”
The blonde turned to face her. “Yes, Em.”
The college student stood to meet Tara. “It’s my fault. It was me that he overheard.” The group was surprised by her honesty.
Tara pulled her aside, feeling a little betrayed by the Sunnydale volunteer. “What do you mean?”
“I was asking about you, Miss.” She confessed her ignorance. “You have this whole life that I didn’t know about and I was curious. So I asked.” She twisted her fingers nervously. “I didn’t mean any harm.”
The crowd could hear the conversation. Tara was gentle, forgiving, but still insistent that the situation would not repeat. “Em, sometimes a person’s past is a bundle of bad decisions and sometimes it’s a pattern that they fight to break but for Patrick it’s an inescapable curse that he didn’t have any voice to choose.” The young girl began to understand the impact of her curious questions. “I’d prayed for years that when he needed to know that I would be the one to explain it to him.”
“And I ruined that.” She begged forgiveness with tear-filled eyes. “I didn’t meant to…”
“Shh.” Tara interrupted.
Willow cleared her throat. “Tara, why don’t you finish with the group and then we can talk with Amelia.” They looked toward the assembled ranch staff.
“Right.” The blonde agreed. She addressed the crew. “I’m asking all of you to be respectful of our family. Patrick is very fragile right now and he needs our protection.” She pleaded to the silent room. “If you feel like you need to talk about any of this, please do it away from the ranch, away from our family. I just hope after today that you don’t feel the need to talk about it.” She dismissed the staff.
They filed out of the barn and returned to work. Although Amelia admitted to the gossip none of the rest were without guilt. Every time the Rosenberg family made a visit to the ranch it seemed the new staff members needed to hear the history from the established staff members. Willow and Tara paid little attention to comments made. There was always discretion in the past, but this time the shelter around their child had been penetrated.
Willow left the barn. Tara and Amelia sat quietly on a bale of hay discussing all that had taken place. The young woman begged for the blonde’s forgiveness.
The redhead noticed the Slayer resting on the couch. Buffy seemed troubled and Willow jumped at the chance to offer her support. “Hey Buff, what’s up?” She sat on the floor, leaning her back into the sofa.
The Slayer rolled to her side, resting her head on her hand and pressing her elbow deep into the sofa cushion. “It’s been a day, Will.”
She nodded. “Yea, I think I’ve been in it with you.” She sensed Buffy’s hesitation. “There’s something else?”
“It’s that guy out in the barn.” She rolled away from her friend. “There’s something about him.”
The redhead smirked. “The fact that he walks in daylight?”
The Slayer swatted her friend. “It’s a refreshing feature but that’s not it.” She rolled back, tossing her arms behind her head. “How do you know him?”
Willow turned to face her friend. “Well, he’s been here for ages.”
“Yea, I got that part.” She investigated further. “I mean before he came here. I can’t place a finger on it but I felt something out there.”
“He’s from Sunnydale. That could be a plus or a minus I’m guessing.” She pulled herself up onto the couch beside her friend. “Tara worked with Al at the center.”
“Did Tara know him before that?”
Willow shook her head. “Not before, Tara didn’t.” She paused. “But Giles did.”
Buffy stared at the redhead. ”What?”
“Yea, Giles asked Tara. Al needed a place to work. I don’t think they are related but I know Giles and Al have some kind of connection.”
The news caught the Slayer completely off guard. There was a bounty of new information surrounding this man. He didn’t feel like the stranger that he was. Why would Giles send him to Tara? Why would Buffy not know of his existence? A thousand questions streamed through the Slayer’s head.
By the time Buffy had sorted her thoughts enough to form another question, Tara walked into the room. “Having a little pow wow?” The blonde grinned from the doorway.
“Hey, baby.” Willow stood to greet her wife. She wrapped her arms around Tara’s waist and pulled her into the room.
Buffy drew her knees up toward her chest, making space for the couple on the couch beside her. “We were just discussing Al.”
The blonde turned her attention toward the slayer. “Oh, you finally noticed he was here.”
“Among other things, yes.”
The Rosenberg’s snuggled into the corner of the cushions. The three women stretched out to share the space. Willow questioned. “Other things?”
“Well I’m not sure I understand who he is. I mean to come from Sunnydale you would think that I would have met him.” Her expression was confused.
Tara smiled. “Well Mr. Giles asked us to hire Al just after Abbey was born.”
Buffy wiggled her fingers, quickly adding up the dates. “You’ve known him for eight years?”
Willow answered. “Almost ten.”
The Slayer wasn’t amused with the casual nature of the women. “And he’s been at the ranch for how long?”
“We sent Al here just after Patrick turned four.” Tara rested a gentle hand on the Slayer’s wrist. She waited for Buffy to look directly at her. “We needed someone we could rely on. Someone that understood how to handle the complexities of the Bennett foundation.”
“But he’s a stranger!”
“He’s a talented rider and has an education that is very valuable to this place.” Tara offered more information to ease the Slayer’s hesitations. “We needed someone that would act for us so that we could stay in Sunnydale. So that the children would be close to you.”
“But this guy. What do you know about him?”
Feeling insulted, the redhead answered. “We really know everything we need to, Buff.”
“Then why don’t I?” She pouted. “I mean this guy. He’s around my favorite munchkins and I’ve just now met him.”
“It’s not like we were hiding him,” Willow bit back sarcastically. “He works for us.”
“But he knows Giles.” She waved her hands with frustration. “As if you wouldn’t check out his reason for being a friend of Giles.” She calculated things in her head. “And he’s kinda young too. I mean for being a friend of his and everything.” She stared at the redhead. “How old is he anyway?”
“A bit curious, aren’t you?” Tara smiled playfully. “I think our Slayer has a little crush.”
“I do not.” She walked toward the doorway. “I’m just protecting my family.”
“Down, slayer.” Willow barked. “He’s safe.”
“You can trust him, Buffy.” Tara stood beside the slayer. “You don’t have to be wary of every person around here.”
“A safe and trustable guy?” She walked into the kitchen. “Like those just casually drop in.” She yelled back over her shoulder. Buffy turned to watch Al stumble through the kitchen door.
He reached toward the Slayer, hoping the woman would catch him before he hit the ground. “Something’s happening.” His vision was blurred and his body tingled from head to toe.
“Willow, Tara!” The slayer yelled out to the women. Her hands stretched forward and with all her Slayer strength she steadied the collapsing man.
TBC.......
Urn of OsirisA new idea is delicate. It can be killed by a sneer or a yawn; it can be stabbed to death by a joke or worried to death by a frown on the right person's brow. Charles Brower
by Tara22 » Fri Sep 10, 2004 4:03 pm 
AWWWWWWW!! *does happy wiggle* 
And show him that they love him the way he is.
an update! I'm giddy with elation! 
I hope you feel better soon.
How can this be?
at: 1/4/05 2:56 pm
Way to be inclusive Osiris! 
