Nothing left - Update 07-10-'09 {finally!}

jay/wt4evr · **Posted:** Tue Jul 29, 2008 4:39 am

Hi people

ok I'm not the most continuos writer, not that I claim to be a writer :smash

Anyway, I do intend to finish both Albos and Massages, but I'm stuck on both. like 'no smut???

' so I'm trying another field
If it goes the way it should, it'll be angsty. really angsty. it's a closer look at Willow's past. It's set three months after Tabula rasa, and it's about..well I'm not spoiling this, but let's say that Dark magic wasn't the only thing destroying Willow inside.
I hope it's good and that you'll like it

oh, I do have a couple of chapters already written, but I don't promise I'll be regular in updating...that's if you want me to :aww

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Title : Nothing left

Author : Jay

Disclaimer : I own nothing but a crazed mind and some knowledge of what I'm talking about

Feedback : Pwetty pwease with Amber on top? :wink

Rating : R for rough themes as suicide and general self-harming tendency, be warned

Summary : This is the story of a girl who found out that the only thing she had left, wasn't hers anymore

Notes : Thoughts in italics
It'll be a long journey, not always forward, but our girls will end up together

Willow was grieving.

She was feeling the past three months slipping away, being replaced by dread and sorrow.

She tried to hold onto her memories of Tara, of the last time she’d seen her, of the soft smile that she gave her at Buffy’s party; she remembered the peace she felt within her, seeing that Tara didn’t hate her anymore.

‘I’m proud of you’ that smile said, ‘but I’m not ready to trust you yet’.
That last part was the more difficult for Willow, but she was working hard to get her lover back.

Soul mate, best friend, Tara was this and much more; she was her anchor, her rock, her everything.
Not a day went by without a silent thank to the Goddess, and an even quieter plea to make her capable of taking care of her.

But now, her head was hammering in a way that she knew would lead to pain.

The red headed hacker looked frantically around her, to see if anyone was home; her eyes scanned the wall, its holes and bumps, taking in every shadow that the moonlight cast in the empty bedroom.

She could see the framed pictures of all her life, and couldn’t help but noticing a gap in it; she tensely tried to take comfort in her own smiling face near to Xander’s and Buffy’s, but there was nothing she could do not to look at the picture standing right beside that one.

Willow clawed closer to the pictures; one was taken at the end of her first year of high school, and It showed her and Xander hugging and grinning goofily; the other one was the year Buffy arrived.
She and her long time friend wore the same goofy grins, but at the same time a profound well inside their eyes.
Buffy too had a well of her own, but the tiredness and the uneasiness of the Slayer had nothing to do with the mourning held into her friends’ hearts.

There was something missing; one whole year faded away, to be replaced by anger, hurt, and betrayal.
She remembered all too well those feelings; being meaningless among the crowd, being picked on.
Since when being smart was a curse?

Always meaningless…to my parents…to him…to them..

But she had chosen to get a grip on her life, and boldly stumbled into high school routine, not caring about other people, not caring about jerks, being witty in her remarks and cool within her geek infested roots.

Now, four years later, Willow Rosenberg hid a huger pain; she had achieved every possible goal a person could want.
She was probably the best at school and could choose whatever job she’d like, she had true friends that loved her and supported her and…she had found the love of her life.

Had found…you lost her….she hates you…no no she doesn’t she smiled at me…what’s a smile compared to all the tears you made her cry….she shed the last tear when she left me…she’s better off me….stop stop STOP!

Buffy and Xander had helped her through the withdrawal, but neither her best friend from ever knew the depth of the dark places she was lost in. Only Xander was there to pull her out, and now he could guess what was wrong by the haunted look on her face alone.
But he didn’t.

Always clueless, never he noticed you, not when you were hitting on him, not when you were running away, nor when you came back for that matter.

She tried to not care about people, and for good measure she succeeded; but everyone she loved, they took her for granted.
Old reliable; do-gooder; good girl; straight A.
That’s all that matter, as long as she was around idolizing them.

For some time it was okay, she had friends, and it was more than she could say years earlier.
But that wasn’t true. They had her.

Who did she have?

Willowtree252 · **Posted:** Tue Jul 29, 2008 5:24 am

Little sis this is a powerful start I am with you from beginning to end. I feel her pain deeply you have made me hurt for her. More please. :peace

Zampsa1975 · **Posted:** Tue Jul 29, 2008 6:45 am

Yay for great angsty goodness... I truly hope that Tara is very soon able to convince Willow that life is worth living and Tara truly loves her...

Guest · **Posted:** Thu Jul 31, 2008 10:06 am

Alongside Willow, I felt as if I was also exposed to a larger palette for viewing the loss; the current one and the unattended ones from the past that are sure to resurface as your fiction story unravels. This mind-trip was well constructed with its vast array of emotions – they stood out throughout the length of the chapter. It was a lovely start Jay as it tugged at the heart.

I'm really looking forward to reading more.

Vi'

jay/wt4evr · **Posted:** Thu Jul 31, 2008 1:50 pm

Hi, thanks for your feedback, and glad I had the response I was fishing for

Some notes then; I don't have a great knowledge of the Wiccan faith, and the 'prayer' here is one I made up on the spot. so please, no :smash

the Jay, pwease

then, I don't know the true birthdays of Willow and Xander, so I put a date that means a lot to me, so again, no :smash

the Jay

another thing, I have a really vague awareness of the school in U.S. and I went by 'more or less', then the part in bold is Willow's flashback of when she was about 14 about her second year {I hope I get that right she skipped a grade didn't she :paranoid

}, while we're currently about..five years later the flashback.
gee I really hope it's right, but please, bear with me? :pray

Here we go, same disclaimers as part one, and same rating, even though this is not the worst part.

Enjoy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Willow was on the floor, crying.

She couldn’t seem to remember doing anything else, but crying. She wakes up in the morning, looks around the empty house and, depending on her mood, either leaves for school without touching food or begins to scream and unwinds on every object within her reach.

That was one of the worst days; the ones when she was overwhelmed by sobs, the tears came freely, draining her, leaving her nothing more than a bud at the complete mercy of life.
That’s what she was, how people like her nanny had described her: a bud born into the asphalt.

But how could she fight the cars? How could she win against the boys that at school made fun of her; how could she be accepted among the girls there? Pretty, stupid, or just pretty stupid chicks that saw nothing further their perfect nose. Jerks that were there thanks to their important father, or sport merits.

How could a girl that skipped a grade feel welcome into a herd like that?
And her best friend, her only friend, growing apart; leaving her alone to face all this.
She didn’t think it was his fault, no one could know what puberty could make; still…

He promised….he swore he’d be by my side forever…we both made a vow, became blood bound…we were kids we didn’t really mean it…still...

Willow looked at the wooden box over which they made the vow.
At first she thought it was kinda gross, but the excitement of doing something so huge at such a young age made her forget on the spot her doubts.

Xander himself made that box, even if he was ten; it was small enough to fit into a hand and to be hidden well, but it was spacious.

Inside there were two little glass phials and a knife they bought together.
It had its handle made of silver and it had a cute inlaid; the blade was shiny and it immediately got the attention of the kids.

Together they designed the box, and Willow remembered all too well the weeks they’d spent building it.
Sometimes they wouldn’t find the right shade of the wood, or the pieces weren’t of the right size, but in less than three weeks they’d made it; mostly Xander made it, and the redhead would bring him the things he’d need or a snack; but it was theirs, the ‘W-X’ on it proved it, and they knew it was built with their own blood.

It was a full moon night when they made the vow; they choose a night exactly halfway between their birthdays, the 16th of March.

They went into the woods and found a hidden spot in the middle of a glade.
There were a few noises, little night animals, but other than that it was the two of them and the box.
They built a fire and waited ‘til it was well going, and they spread a brown blanket that seemed to mesh with the earth beneath it.

They sat cross legged on it and put the box between them; the air around them prickled and then it became still, as if watching in awe this bonding blessed by the Goddess.
She was looking out for the two kids, keeping creatures far from them, consecrating their union to persevere ‘til they both achieved their ultimate duty.

But to Willow and Xander, this was only a thrilling thing to do, like in the movies.
They looked at each other solemnly, nodded and begun.

In that very moment, both the children felt something new, something that would come back and linger for all the years to come.

Xander felt his heart fill up with love, affection, and devotion.
Those same things would eventually keep him there, by his friends’ side, even when he thought he had noting left.

Willow felt her heart expand, enveloping the earth underneath her, the box, Xander, and gradually become one with nature.
That was the first time that the world acknowledged her as the Red Witch.

The Goddess herself spoke through the newly reborn girl, uttering words of profound fidelity and fondness, that would bond her children beyond their comprehension.

'As one we demand to become
As light and darkness
As fire and water
Our words be like air
Our love be like blood
And with blood
Her will be done’

Willow and Xander locked eyes, and without breaking the contact they cut the soft skin of their palms to let their mixed blood drop on the two letters carved on the box, and then they filled the phials.

Then they clasped their hands.
Her will be done.

Then why, why, isn’t he here? Why am I here alone, as nothing happened?
Right….today he was laughing at me with the other boys…I’m nothing but the little girl that has a crush on him that he shows off….great…

She couldn’t bear it anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And now?
Five years had gone by, and still she was on the floor crying, without anyone by her side.

Zampsa1975 · **Posted:** Thu Jul 31, 2008 3:49 pm

Yay for great update-y goodness... Damn, Willow sure is in a dark place... I truly hope Tara is there to guide her out of it...

Raineh · **Joined:** Sat Apr 26, 2008 8:50 pm **Posts:** 19

damn, i really hope this dark stuffs stay for a while and then a big thing happens so it will still be dramatic. Loving every of this fic! xDD dont take too long updating :pray

synthwrr · **Joined:** Sun Jul 27, 2008 8:36 pm **Posts:** 89

Ayyy...
so depressing, I can hardly handle it. Why must you do this to us?

I guess that's a compliment though

Guest · **Posted:** Sun Aug 03, 2008 1:25 pm

Very descriptive character-driven emotions...

With the introduction to Xander's character as an equal grief factor, this has taken a turn towards the unexpected Jay and that is where I enjoyed your exploration of Willow's grief - dark, brooding, slightly cathartic.

It reminds me a lot of situations where a high indulgence in either Will's or Tara's pain leads to an equally high expectation and need for satisfaction based on the emotional level of their relationship. I'm glad to see that you have cut down on the babble and are focusing more on rarely explored aspects of Willow's personality as based on cannon. At least, as far as I am aware, there is a tendency in fiction stories to focus more on Tara's pain owing to a previous issue of genuine personal affliction

Keep the chapters coming in,

Vi'

jay/wt4evr · **Posted:** Sun Aug 24, 2008 3:42 pm

Hello Kittens

no update, sorry, but I had to get back some papers that will help me write Willow's character better

So I should be done by the end of this week...I hope :paranoid

Thanks for the great feedback, it keeps me going

Sami, isn't the fact that Willow has to go through that alone what the whole fic's about?

Raineh, Angst is my second name, I hope this fic will be up to your expectations

synthwrr, I'll most certainly take it as a compliment

Vi', dark, brooding, slightly cathartic? I thought there wasn't Angel here

Who would've thought it, me no babbling

Willow's pain is well hidden, she herself will say it {in the fic}

Hope I don't take too long updating!

jay/wt4evr · **Posted:** Mon Aug 25, 2008 6:42 am

Ok, I got the update written before I thought

ETA:Used bits of this for competition, so if you guys get here I didn't do any piracy, I just used my own words.
Same disclaimers and rating as before
Flashbacks are in bold

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Previously...

And now?
Five years had gone by, and still she was on the floor crying, without anyone by her side.~

That’s not true, they have things to do, I can’t feel sorry for myself! Buffy’s on patrol, Dawn’s at Janice’s, Tara…she left me…for good…I pushed her away…Goddess give me strength…Xander.. He doesn’t have time for me..he has a life and what a life! Let your best friend screw her life while you’re off doing Kama Sutra 101 with an ex demon! He loves her…she loves him…they’re better -

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-off me.

Willow was staring at the angry scar that crossed her palm, thinking of the identical one on Xander’s hand.

None of this mattes to him anymore! It’s like falling and getting hurt, you get scars and then go on. He got up and left me with my wounds still fresh!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Willow untangled herself from the invisible bounds she had with those memories, and dragged herself to the bathroom, hoping to get some relief splashing water on her face.
She took a towel and dried her pale skin; she looked up at the mirror.
She saw a frightened girl, a scared look on her face. Her breathing got more labored, her chest heavier with each gulp of air she took in.

The former witch recognized those sensations right away; she seized all the resolve she had to face those phantoms of the past; she looked straight in front of her, as if daring her reflection to clash with her; it was no use, because she knew she’d win if that ever happened.

Doubt begun to work its way inside Willow’s head; could she really stand up to herself? The previous events proved that she was too weak to even restrain herself; but it wasn’t really her fault, was it? What could se do against an addiction?

Maybe it would have been easier if I hadn’t got addicted in the first place.…see, weak…couldn’t you face the world as usual? With your chin up defiantly and staring straight ahead….that’s what made me miss Tara’s pain…her concern for my abuse of magic…how could I lose someone like her? Even though it always looks like I’m meant to keep losing people…Xander’s a great guy, still he never looked at me like he looked at Cordelia, never mind her being our enemy….Oz…even better, loving and all, but he left me without so much of a goodbye.

Willow regained focus on her reflection; she saw the frown creasing her brows giving out her inner uneasiness, her wavering resolve.
She clutched the sink, wanting to win that battle, knowing the consequences if she lost.
She couldn’t let her gaze fall, she had to keep eye contact, hoping it to suffice to keep contact with reality.

Suddenly she felt them, the tremors, the chilling hotness on her back, the lightheadedness.

I can’t I can’t I can’t! can’t what, can’t give up or can’t fight it? Tara, I have to make it for her. But it has never been enough, other people never were enough for me. Should I? No no no let me go let me go! I have to trust her she chose me I’m the one for her. But what if I wasn’t? Always deciding for the both of us that’s what got me in trouble. Should I? I can’t let her go I need her! But she needs time, space, and someone to take care of her, I’ve given up that right the moment I chose magic over her. Choices always choices always the wrong ones when will I learn? Nothing’s gonna get me out of here, nobody not-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-ever. I’m in a vortex, a bottomless well, and I tried, I tried to fly, but my wings fell, and I softly followed their crash, and last thing I saw was those wings stabbed to the ground by my own fault.

Willow was in the bathroom, her hands gripping the basin, her knuckles white, her face ever paler.
She could have seen her startled look, if only she wasn’t gazing at the sink, with her head bended.
Just moments earlier she was staring at herself, trying to win over her own fears.

But she was surrendering to this sensation…the blackness was fading…everything seemed so clear…and inside her…calm…stillness…peace. Tranquility she knew she’d never find among her friends, and…
fear.
So blinding she couldn’t focus on anything else. She could actually hear her blood pumping through her veins, she could feel a slight tickle on the tips of her fingers, and yet, she was deafened by its rush, the incessant hammering in her ears.

She could recognize this sensation having felt it before, in front of a horse.

Geez, I’m thinking about horses when I’m about to…

Willow looked horrified at her hands -wasn’t she staring at her eyes just moments before? Everything seemed fade away and be replaced by dread. She gazed at her grazed hands, her own skin under her nails, blood slowly trickling down the back of her hands.

She turned on her heels and got out the empty house; maybe it was her current state of shock, maybe the sight of her ever unlived house, or just the burning feeling of failure that drove the little redheaded girl far away from the safety she had always knew.

No keys, no money, only her, and her grief. she was there alone, to face a world that would never become hers, and to whom she would never belong.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Defeat, defeat, burning defeat. It slowly drops down my throat and draws holes along the way, and gets all over my body.
I should be used to it. It was like that the first time, and it’s still like that. No more, no less. Like hell it’d be less.
More? More is death. Agonizingly slow. Painful, painfully slow death. Not there anymore. The strength to come back, that I never had.
The strength to face everything, I never got the chance to make it right.
And why does it get like that? No more, No more. It’s too much, the way it avoids hitting, it slowly circles you and never lets a way out.
Not easy, not hard, just no way out. And you’re there trapped and you can go on.
Not moving on just going on and you can’t move, not yet. Useless the way you struggle because it’s stronger.
Useless the way you beg for mercy useless the way you cry, it’ll never let you go. Stronger, too strong. No way to get out no way.
Not life not death. If you die it’s defeat. It’ll have won. Defeated you. Chilling defeat.

Willow collapsed on the wall, throwing punches at it then sliding helplessly down the floor; she pushed back ‘til she was curled up on the farthest corner of the room, weeping silently.

But her quiet cry of never ending sorrow didn’t go unheard.
A matching grief was there to fill her broken heart.

Willowtree252 · **Posted:** Sun Aug 31, 2008 12:48 pm

Guest · **Posted:** Thu Sep 04, 2008 7:27 am

I'm glad to see an update ^-^

As I read on, I situated Willow's grief as lending more familiarly to post-cannon situations. By reversing the feelings inscribed in the actual context and making your chapter so intensely descriptive, your chosen words, Jay, seem to be placing her more and more in the role of a victim. This is an aspect that has rendered me uncomfortable but paradoxically, it may be considered as ingenious since bereavement is no simple matter. We tend to focus so much on the love that an important aspect of their love relationship is at times neglected and it was those thoughts, placed in italics, that specifically stimulated my interest. Although the former dramatic impact instilled in previous chapters has waned, I must congratulate you for the excellent use of contrast between Will's very desire to fight and live for Tara and her agony.

Vi'

JujuDeRoussie · **Posted:** Thu Sep 04, 2008 9:02 am

Hey lil'Jay, I gotta say I'm really happy with what you wrote.
That s very good. Ya know I love angsty, and well it is angsty. Keep up this good work sweetie, but school first ;-)

.

It's really well written.

Friendly,
The old lady living in the woods surrounded by dozens of cats!

Paint the Sky · **Posted:** Thu Sep 04, 2008 3:16 pm

Hi, Jay!

Wow, this is much darker than than you usually write, but, my God, it's good.

Willow is having one hell of a rough time, but I know you will get her, and us, through it in your own time.

You have really gotten inside her head, and her pain, lonliness and sense of dispair are almost too real.

I'm really liking this, and can't wait to read more.

jay/wt4evr · **Posted:** Tue Nov 25, 2008 7:33 am

Hi people! I'm back with an update, and I swear I'll answeer feedback later!! But now, enjoy!!!

Disclaimers as before

Tara woke up with a start.

That wasn’t the first time since she left Willow; laying down in the darkness, feeling every sensation leave her body and toss in a restless sleep. Seeking out the warmth of a body; finding only the coldness of her tears.

Why.…tears shouldn’t be cold…they should be warm… body temperature…she explained me once…my Willow…where are you…so lost…let me find you…

She turned on the light and let her eyes wander aimlessly, not really seeing the empty walls of her dorm, barely taking in the fairy lights in their box in the corner.

Fairy lights…who needs them when my light has been taken away from me?

She remembered every thing, every second spent with her Willow….but that wasn’t true. How many times has she stolen memories from her? Who knew if there were only those two times, or were they more? What had they fought about?

Why have we fought?

The blonde witch couldn’t make any sense of it; the only thing that seemingly cut through her heart was that her Willow had chosen power over them.
Had it been a choice between her and the power, Tara couldn’t have brought herself to blame Willow; endless power, or a shy, insecure, stuttering witch?

But her lover, her everything, had thrown away what they had.
Nothing meant anything anymore. Not the things they had been through, not the times they had cried, laughed, slept in each other’s arms, not even the glances they coyly exchanged to express their love.
She could swear she remembered Willow promising she’d take care of her forever, that she was her always, her everything.

Was it even true? She had taken away memories from her; could she have given false memories to her?
Did she ever stand up against her father to keep her away from them, and with her?
Or was it all an illusion created by the demon she had inside her?

But they proved I wasn’t a demon; Spike punched me, and he felt pain. And I felt it too.
Was it true? Can a vampire even ‘feel’? Is it possible that a vampire, and may I add, who killed two Slayers, be in love with the Slayer?

Doubt began making its way inside Tara’s head. Things happened, but those things couldn’t be real.
Vampires with a soul, friendly demons, ex demons even….none of it could be real.

Starting right from her finding love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tara was on the floor, crying.

She couldn’t seem to remember doing anything else, but crying. She wakes up in the morning, looks around the empty house and, depending on her mood, either leaves for school without touching food or begins to scream and unwinds on every object within her reach.

That was one of the worst days; the ones when she was overwhelmed by sobs, the tears came freely, draining her, leaving her nothing more than a bud at the complete mercy of life.
That’s what she was, how people like her mother had described her: a bud born into the asphalt.

But how could she fight the cars? How could she win against the boys that at school made fun of her; how could she be accepted among the girls there? Pretty, stupid, or just pretty stupid chicks that saw nothing further their perfect nose. Jerks that were there thanks to their important father, or sport merits.

How could a girl that skipped a grade feel welcome into a herd like that?

But she hadn’t skipped a grade, had she?
Those weren’t her thoughts, her emotions.
She was feeling the angst of a girl, maybe thousands of miles away, as it were hers.

Don’t cry, little girl, one day you’ll find your purpose in life, you’ll find love and none of this will seem so dark.

The blonde girl tried to comfort this unknown girl sending calmness and positive feelings through the link they appeared to share, but nothing worked.
Dread worked its way inside Tara’s heart; this girl needed her, but she couldn’t do anything to help her.

She swore that, one day, she’d find that girl and make sure she was happy; her life now had an aim.
She needed to get out her house, to get away from her family; they’d only keep her chained there, ‘to protect others and control the demon’.

But she had to protect the girl.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In that moment Tara despised herself; she had wasted almost five years of her life, living for a girl who maybe didn’t even exist.
She decided that it was time to face her past, to get into her future.
She walked resolutely towards the door and exited to find Willow; this story had to end.

Either I am insane ‘cos of the demon and I get a chance to get out my own head, or I get closure and move on with my life.

Tara wondered how she got at that point; she was ready to cut off her true family to launch herself into the unknown.

Then she understood.

She had nothing left.

I wasted my time on a fantasy while I could become a woman to be proud of, not a shy, stuttering freak like I was.
Oh, how fool I was, when I left home, hoping for what? To find the girl from my fantasy? The Goddess knows what else Willow has done. Maybe she went inside my head, like she did with Buffy, saw my past and pretended to be that girl. It’s not like she can’t use that damned ‘Forget’ spell. Damnit!

Tara went down a path she remembered all to well; campus, street, Buffy’s.
Only, last time she walked there was the opposite, and she was running away from everything.

As always. I can’t seem to do anything else but running away; Mom, can you see me? What have I done? Do I really deserve all this? Is this a punishment for when I left home?

Home…that word held no meaning to the blonde witch, not anymore. Once ‘home’ was Willow, now she was using it to refer to her childhood house, the place where she didn’t want to go back.

But I have to. There’s nothing else here for me, nothing. I’m only ‘the girlfriend’, ‘the witch’, ‘the lesbian’, ‘the…

She remembered an evening, the previous summer, the summer of Buffy’s death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was preparing dinner, but she was startled out her pensive mood from a crying Dawn.
The woman went near the teenager, and cradled her against her body; her mother used to do that when she herself would cry her eyes out.
Slowly the youth steadied her erratic breathing, and brought her eyes to look into Tara’s.

<>
The blonde felt a pang to her heart; she remembered those words, said in a similar situation.

<>
She let the girl cry for a while on her shoulder, then carried her to the couch, where she curled up in a restless sleep.

In that moment entered Willow; she had a distant expression on her face.
She looked at the two girls, but did nothing to greet Tara.

<>
Her lover stiffened, but answered.
Receiving an affirmative nod, the redhead headed upstairs, but halfway to the stairs she stopped, and without turning told her girlfriend:
<>
That said, went upstairs, yet again to study a way to bring Buffy back.

Tara didn’t know what to do anymore; she was acting like a mother for Dawn, to Willow she was nothing more than..what? ‘The girl acting like a mother for Dawn’?.
She couldn’t understand why her lover wouldn’t accept help, but she was sure she’d eventually come back to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How wrong I was. Instead of turning to the love of her life, her everything she turned to black magic.
That’ll show me next time I get trapped inside a laundry room with a gorgeous girl.

Tara was so trapped in her thoughts, that she didn’t notice that a vampire had been following her for a while; nor she saw Willow exiting the house with her eyes downcast.

But the newbie vampire had seen them both, and decided to have a bulky meal, not knowing who those girls were, only feeling their power.

Zampsa1975 · **Posted:** Tue Nov 25, 2008 9:32 am

Yay for good update-y goodness... I hope Willow & Tara very soon work out their differences and have a huge :wtkiss

fest...

jay/wt4evr · **Posted:** Tue Nov 25, 2008 10:59 am

Replies to feedback to hmm chapter four I guess.
Vi', you do know that I -as always- had to read your reply five times to gei ti all? Not that I mind, mind you, I'm happy

Willow's placed in the role of a victim, but as you mentioned noticing 'the contrast between her will to live and her agony' she's only being a victim of her own self. Though she's not the only one suffering

Thanks for the feedback hun

Juju, of coooourse school first. In fact, this story is about learning how humans can suffer.

thanks for your feedback, and I promise I'll feed your greed for angst

say hi to your hundreds cats

Paintthesky, yes much darker, but I'm glad you find it good

Of course I'll get you all to the end in my time
ETA that was so not meant to be teasing, I just meant that we all be together a loong way

Thanks for your feedback.

Jay

viximon · **Posted:** Thu Nov 27, 2008 2:50 pm

great story! the evolution of it is awsome so far.
please continue soon

Guest · **Posted:** Sat Jan 31, 2009 4:19 am

*sweats*

Jay, you do also know that I have reread my feedback five times today before posting?

Only teasing ^^

Thanks for reminding me of its complexity; I'll try and change that because it's important that the feedback conveys the appreciation that I mean to convey each time

.

What I have rather liked with this chapter is how your Tara character goes through the cycle of doubt, anger and courage as she thinks of how her life has been so far and how it changed when she met Willow. I loved Tara here and I loved how you portrayed her inner conflicting thoughts as emotional burdens from the past arise. I'm also deeply interested in knowing why they fought and what has brought about such a drastic change in Willow? The vampire attack is bound to be most interesting.

Get those creative juices flowing over here as well and let's see what you have in store for us next;)

Vi'

tacoda13 · **Posted:** Fri Mar 20, 2009 6:15 pm

Great start you got going there.

Nue · **Posted:** Sun Mar 22, 2009 10:16 am

oh god... update plz?

Dorothy · **Joined:** Tue May 06, 2008 1:55 am **Posts:** 1467

love love love love looove it, more? (a)

tarawillow<3 · **Posted:** Wed Sep 02, 2009 10:06 am

reaaaly awesome fic you got there
ca nt wait for more

jay/wt4evr · **Posted:** Wed Oct 07, 2009 9:33 am

Whoa responses! Never expected so many ^^
So, Kittens, thanks to everyone who left feedback and to everyone who increased the number of views *happy dance*
Here's the so awaited update ^^
Disclaimers apply as before.

Previously...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How wrong I was. Instead of turning to the love of her life, her everything she turned to black magic.
That’ll show me next time I get trapped inside a laundry room with a gorgeous girl.

Tara was so trapped in her thoughts, that she didn’t notice that a vampire had been following her for a while; nor she saw Willow exiting the house with her eyes downcast.

But the newbie vampire had seen them both, and decided to have a bulky meal, not knowing who those girls were, only feeling their power.

He started stalking the blond one, keeping hidden behind her in case the other raised her head; he had almost reached both witches, and prepared to reach out.

But the fledging didn't get too far: a dark presence behind him made him burst into flames, drawing the girls' attention to himself.

Willow's eyes widened in fear when she recognized Rack; Tara just felt a dark energy, so she lashed out at him.
The warlock merely smirked when the light magic bolt didn't hurt him, taking its toll on Willow instead; he then threw a blast at 'his' Strawberry, wanting to get her high right in front of her former lover

The purple ball of energy whizzed past Tara and hit full-force Willow, sending her to her knees.
The blond Wiccan watched disgusted the quivering form on the ground, but somehow she couldn't shield her heart from the piercing scream that exited Willow's lungs.

She could recall having heard something similar before:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tara was tossing around restlessly in her sleep.
Her nightmares about Glory were lessening, but she hadn't had a full nigh of sleep yet.

Then, in the cold night, a terror-filled cry reached her ears.
She sat up straight, sensing Willow's pain; it was oozing from her. Filling her being with dread and sorrow, but most of all guilt.
The blond knew her lover blamed herself for not having been able of saving Buffy before she jumped off the tower, for not having been able of destructing the Hellgoddess before she could hurt anyone.

She ran downstairs where Willow was rocking burled up beside the couch; she was clutching herself and crying soundlessly.
Tara dropped to her side and gently began sending her calming energy to envelope the trembling woman; she cooed her soothingly, saying words of love and devotion, trying to get her lover back from her nightmare.

The only thing that she got back though was a strangled whisper:

<>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rack's voice broke through her reverie:

<>

He smiled cruelly when he saw the anger flush red on Tara's cheeks; he could tell that she still loved Strawberry, and that somehow that love dug its way past his spell and out.

Tara in the meantime felt many things at once: jealousy, for the intimacy he treated her former lover with, anger, both at him and at Willow, and disgust thinking that her Willow had shared...herself...with that creature.

But she also felt something else; the anger was predominating every fiber of her being, and it was so new and unusual to her that she knew there was something wrong.

As soon as the warlock saw confusion make its way onto the woman's face, he knew his set up had been tipped-off.

<>
He put a hand on his chest in mock-hurt, then laughed. Of course he left out that it augmented only bad feelings.

<>

The games were done; Strawberry was wrenching in pain on the ground, he gave only a taste, not enough to make her lash out. Nobody left him without paying.

The lover was on the brim of lashing out herself, and take out all her anger on poor, defenseless ex-lover.
This was gonna be interesting, and he could give a turn to Blondie as well. Light magic was appetizing.

Tara was cogitating troublesomely: if what Rack had said was true she really hated Willow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

<>
The soft voice of Mira Maclay reached the trembling girl's ears. Tara was huddled on the ground clutching her arm in pain.
Donnie had whipped her horse, making her fall on the ground, going as far as trying to stomp her with his mount.

But the animal recognized the fair hearted kid that so often treated him caresses and small sweet bites; he felt the anger and cruelty radiating from his rider, but couldn't bring himself to feel the same and hurt the girl. So he bucked desperately, throwing the bad feelings away from him.

He then went near the sobbing form on the ground and gently nudged her; a crack of thunder startled him away, and he ran.

Donnie though had raised himself to his feet, and made his way towards Tara, his face a mask.
He slapped her hard across the face, and left her there, seeing in the distance dark clouds approaching.

Tara just lay there motionless, too shocked and hurt to stand and not defy the first rule on a farm: with the rain all animals and people inside.
The horses were gone off who knew where, and she was there, with only a fain echo of her mother's call in her ears.

A drop. A tear. Her mother's footsteps.

Darkness.

Tara awoke slowly to the sounds of their parents arguing. No, that wasn't her father's deep voice.
That was...Donnie. Arguing with their mother. About....the horses. And her.
But they weren't fighting, were they? He was saying that she had wanted to race, and falling she had pulled him down as well. And that she was deliberately hiding.

Then a sound she never heard before. Her mother's fast, heavy, angry footsteps.
How could footsteps sound angry?
The door slammed open, and what Tara saw, broke her heart. Into a million pieces.
Her mother, her sweet, loving mother, who had passed down the tradition for women to be named after stars against her father's wishes, was looking at her with resentment, and pain. Pain she had caused.

<> Three words to bring Tara's world down around her.

She wanted to answer, ached to take away that pain, but her swollen cheek hindered any apology coming out of her mouth.
Without another sound her mother turned and walked away.

In that moment, Tara hated Donnie.

She slowly got up, made the bed, took a quilt from a drawer and exited her home.

Home...

She headed deeper and deeper into the woods; when she finally reached a clearing she settled down and meditated.
She remembered her mother's teachings, to never hate, to love and forgive.
Tara clung to them, the thin line between the demon and the human.
Then she felt a wave of energy sweep away any semblance of control she had over herself.

It was the all too familiar power of her mother.
And in that moment, Tara hated her too.

She comes here all morally superior without even knowing. And everything she's ever told me, a lie.

Everything? Not everything.

-I love you baby girl.-
-You're my star.-
-I'll always be with you.-

Tara raised her eyes to look at her mother.

In that moment, she vowed to never hate again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Am I breaking my promise? Is it real?

So she did what she had done so many years ago.
She levelled her gaze with Willow, and looked, really looked at her.
And again, what she saw broke her heart.

Seems my heart isn't an element then.
Tara shook that thought, generated by a memory of Willow defining 'chemical element' : something that can't be further broken.

Memory....

-You're my always.-
-You're my everything.-
-I love you.-

-The big pineapple?-

Tara glanced up at Mira, the star that had graced her mother with its name and meaning.

Wonderful...

And again, after all those years, she felt power build inside herself. Blinding, hot in its fierceness.
She turned to face Rack.
She could see he was turned on by her display of power.
The pants previously raised and the flawless shirt were the only things that remained of him after the magic blast erupted from Tara.

Every bit of dark magic she had received from him was returned into his body, with the addiction of her light power, that burned every skin cell. His leather coat, shoes, his very disgusting heart, vanished.

Tara had hated again. And she'd pay her price seeing his smug smirk disappearing forever.

Zampsa1975 · **Posted:** Wed Oct 07, 2009 9:45 am

Yay for good update-y goodness... Bye bye Rack... I hope Tara is able to take care of Willow...

AmberGoddess · **Posted:** Sat Nov 21, 2009 3:55 pm

Ooooh i love this story! there needs to be more.

The Kitten, the Witches and the Bad Wardrobe - Willow & Tara Forever

Nothing left - Update 07-10-'09 {finally!}

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