Thanks True Xena... I guess that depends on how fast you read.
Part 80 is below. This was originally one part with what will now be part 81 but it ends in a reasonable place.
Enjoy
Katharyn
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Title:
The Sidestep Chronicle – First Day (Part 80)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome.
katharynrosser@hotmail.comSpoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe though reference is made to events that occur in both realities.
Summary: The morning after they arrive at the Maclay house… hereafter referred to as ‘Home.’
Disclaimer: I still don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories.
Rating: 15
Couples: I hesitate to say couple… but I will.
Notes: This part and part 81 were originally one but this had to be cut in half for length. When nothing is happening I have to be brief…
Thanks To: All the usual suspects. Louise… who wants to be first for once. Kerry for everything. Jo – be well sweetie. All the readers (even those who lurk!*S*) Xita – for the Secret Monkey…
The Sidestep Chronicle
First Day
By
Katharyn Rosser
Where…
Who…
What…
Was she?
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Ow.
‘Ow’ was just the first thing that went through Tara’s head that morning. At least she thought it was morning. Probably. There were no windows – it was difficult to tell. That was the second thing. The third, inevitably, was Willow and the fourth was wondering why the other woman hadn’t been higher in the list. She could see Willow’s hair. Most of the rest of her was hidden, but from down where she was sat on the floor she could see Willow’s hair and hence that she was still there.
Which was the important thing.
Tara found that she couldn’t move her head very much, because of the ‘Ow’ thing, so just looking at that hair was easier. Willow was there. It told her that Willow was there. Still there. In the bed beside her. Well the bed that she was beside.
It was a different thing altogether.
She had stroked that hair last night.
She had whispered some words to Willow that she didn’t think that she could ever again repeat. She had said the four little words. Really meant them and she couldn’t say them again. It wouldn’t be fair to Willow to let them pass her lips.
So that was Willow, the hair was Willow. The reason for the ‘Ow’ took a few seconds longer to place. She’d been sleeping, seated on the floor, leaning back against the wall. The padding behind her had probably stopped the worst effects of that, but there was no way any person was supposed to sleep in that position. The ‘Ow’ had been when she had tried to turn her head on waking after obviously leaning against the wall for far too long. “Ow.” She turned it the other way, found that was easier and used that freedom to try and work the stiffness out of her neck.
It was, as she looked at her watch, just gone nine in the morning and yet it was still dark? No… right there were no windows in here. She’d thought it and she’d lost that in the worry about Willow and the whole ‘Ow’ thing. The candle had burned down through the night and there was no power either. That was something that she would be doing today. The light that let her see at all was coming from the open door. Daylight would be coming in the through the window by the front door and straight down the hall.
As she looked out of that door, still exaggerating the twist in her neck to try and stretch it out, she could see the dust moving through the sunbeams. It must be a nice day out there. She was going to have to spend it getting things sorted though. The house needed cleaning. They needed food, of course, and she had to get the power turned back on, unless the generator was still hooked up? If it was still working and there was some fuel.
Maybe Daddy’s preparedness could have bought them some time. She didn’t want to leave Willow alone today – not the first day here - and there was no way that she could take Willow back into town with her. Besides which the young woman in the bed was afraid of the daylight.
How could I ask her to come with me? I have no right to ask anything of her. Not a thing.On the floor, she could see her own footprints in the dust. She could see the line where the blanket had dragged along as she had carried Willow. Carried her over the threshold. That made her smile until she realised that she was going to be cleaning up for, like, ever. Then she sighed. That, the cleaning thing, was probably going to be the easy part of it all. It wasn't like she hadn’t scrubbed every surface in this house a hundred times before. It would do her good to get back into the groove – this was likely to be her life for a while.
Turning her head again, this time back in the more painful direction, Tara found Willow there. Watching her. Just watching. Focused and intent. For a moment they held each other’s eyes and then Tara blinked and the moment was lost – she felt that she had to do something then. Say something because she had broken that contact.
The blink had been like delayed surprise kicking in there. She’d thought that Willow was asleep, she seemed to need her rest more. Willow had napped a lot on the train and the times that Tara had thought that she should have been asleep had been marked by wide-open green eyes looking at her from the box. Watching. Curious. Scared. But always watching something.
“Good morning,” she managed. It seemed appropriate. It was morning and it was a better one than they had shared for a while. Waking up with Willow and it was morning. There was something new already. It was all going to be uncharted territory from here on in.
She didn’t know this Willow. She wanted to though.
The wide-eyed woman didn’t say anything in reply, even if her mouth opened. The lips parted and it was as if, just for a second, Willow had wondered about speaking. The words had come, sat at the back of her throat waiting and then they had been disappointed. The mouth closed again. Like Willow had thought better of it.
They had never talked that much… and when they had it had usually ended in hurt of some kind. But this Willow… without the words Tara had still been able to see the thoughts passing over her face. Like a book… she could see the words, but she hadn’t yet learned the language.
This Willow so obviously wasn’t that Willow. “I-I think it’s a nice day,” Tara looked towards the door, the streaming sunlight out there. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to have said being as Willow thought that she couldn’t go out there at all. It had been stupid and insensitive of her. She twisted her head a little further towards Willow, deliberately causing a twinge to punish herself for being thoughtless.
That was the sort of lesson that they had all learned in this house. Willow wouldn’t though.
Willow hadn’t even looked towards the door though. The woman in the bed was still looking right at her. It was actually a little freaksome how focused on her Willow still was. They had played this game on the train already. Willow had to know who she was now – at least that she could trust her. What was going on in that head, behind those lovely eyes?
Was Willow trying to remember where she was?
Or was she trying to find out what had happened?
Perhaps she didn’t know who Tara was, despite the initial recognition. Had that seeming familiarity even been real?
Was Willow asking herself how she should feel about the woman by her bed? How she did feel?
Maybe it was just ‘what’s that stupid woman sitting on the floor for?’ She kind of hoped that it was that last one, that Willow wasn't being disturbed by the big things yet… And there were probably going to be many of them. She wanted Willow to be just allowed to live a little first – even if she would never do anything like the magic – to enforce that. But there was no telling just by looking into Willow’s eyes. Green eyes that would never again turn yellow and demonic. It was all worth it if only for that.
Whatever it had cost her, and whatever happened now it was all worth it. Just for that simple fact.
Tara held up one filthy hand and showed it to Willow not wanting to contemplate the colour of her clothes where she had been sitting on the floor all night. “I think I’m going to be cleaning for a while…” She just wanted to keep talking to Willow, without pressuring her to reply. Even if she
could reply right now.
Willow looked at the hand and the reached out with her own, pushing her finger into Tara’s palm. More of a prod that lingered there, pressing. It was as if…
As if she was seeing if I was real and when she found that I was… she couldn’t quite believe it.Willow narrowed her eyes just a little as she met the resistance of real flesh there, looked from the dirty hand to Tara’s face again, filing that fact away too. Always watching. Always testing things. It was nice, Tara thought, to be thought of as real. There had been times when she’d had her own doubts.
“…But not until we’ve had some breakfast. Can I get you… I mean would you like some? Tinned peaches is about the best, you know, I can offer. Again.” The tinned food was all they’d had to exist on since they had left LA. There had been some bread, right at the start, but Willow hadn’t eaten much of anything before that had gone stale. Every so often the tin of fruit or packet of chips that Tara had left for her would just be empty. Willow wouldn’t actually take food. She wouldn’t ask for it either. Sometimes Tara had felt that she had to play a game, like the mimic one, to get Willow to eat just a little more.
But most of the time it had just sort of gone.
“You like peaches right?” Tara realised that she had no idea what Willow actually liked to eat at all. It had never been an issue before. The Willow that she had known had eaten people. Drank blood to stay alive. Stolen it. Killed for it. They’d never even talked about food, because the vampire had hated to talk about the human – except on her own terms. Peaches might have been Willow’s least favourite fruit in the whole world for all she had known.
They weren’t making her barf though. So that was a good start.
If Willow did hate them then she wasn’t saying now. The other woman just pulled her hand back and looked at the finger, perhaps doubting that – or the sense of touch. It had to be different, being human after knowing the world through the enhanced senses of the vampire. The sensations rather than the memory of them. Just the ‘being’ was going to be tricky enough for Willow. Then she was turning back to looking at Tara who returned that gaze.
They were watching each other again. How many miles had passed on the train doing that? Tara would never get tired of looking at her though. Even if seeing this, broken, Willow made her heart ache with the need to hug and help her.
But the broken Willow was so much better off than the vampire had been. The vampire had not been Willow at all. Not the real one. Just something with the name and the face.
Even the face seemed different. The nuances of the expressions. So many that she had already seen on this face. But none of them were cruel.
They sat and lay there like that and a few more minutes passed before the urge to wash came over Tara. Besides Willow’s intensity was more than a little scary. It was an intensity that was all inside. It was a reason to be with her, and it was a reason to give her space.
She just hoped that the water was still going to be on – even if she did have to run the taps for ages to clear the gunk out of the pipes. She already had the urge to clean up, first because she couldn’t stand this house being so dirty, and second because she needed to make it into a home. Like it had been before.
Right now it was unlived in. She wanted it to be all snug and comfy. And that was going to take some serious work. First though, breakfast – even if breakfast was going to be a bit like yesterday’s supper.
She struggled to her feet and felt the twinge in her back as well as in her neck. Actually it was less a twinge and more of a big shudder. It had been too long since she’d slept on the floor. Not even on the floor properly – sleeping like that was just a question of the discomfort. Being propped up against something was worse. Tonight it was a bed for her – the floor of that box car had been bad enough, but better than this. A bed somewhere would be nice. “A little sore here,” she said explaining the grimace to Willow who was still watching her
Had that been a change in the expression when she had shuddered. Had Willow seen her pain? She suspected that Willow knew pain quite well. The Vocah wouldn’t have been concerned with comfort when it recalled her. Willow reached out towards her hand, the back of it this time, but seemed to think better of it. Drawing back. Still watching though.
Always watching.
Willow just kept watching her and Tara wanted to reach out and stroke her hair again. Say the words again when Willow could hear her. Could it be that it might help? But no… No. She couldn’t do that. This Willow wasn't for her to strike. This Willow was someone else. This Willow was the person that she had always wanted but she was so not hers. This Willow was someone who was obviously trying to make her own decisions about the woman who wouldn’t shut up. “I’ll go get us something to eat. I’ll be right back. Wait for me, okay?”
Where was Willow going?
Willow’s eyes followed her from the room and she had laid against the pillow, when Tara glanced back, looking at her hands. She hated to leave Willow alone even for that small amount of time, but she was going to have to get used to that. Both of them were. There were things that had to be done and even if Willow wasn’t afraid of the sunlight, thus refusing to leave the room for the sunlit hall, she needed to rest for a while. Get used to it Tara.
Willow had to.
Being alive.
Willow was alive.
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She’d realised that there was someone with her in the room just from the ‘Ow’ that she heard. It was very quiet though that ‘Ow.’ Almost as if it wasn’t there at all. Everything was softer, quieter, less bright, less dark. Muted. Everything except for a perpetual ‘thumping.’ That was very loud. That was almost drowning out everything else.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
She stayed wrapped up, hugging herself into a tight little ball around whatever it was that was covering her. Was that a…? It was there… tip of the thing in her mouth. Tongue? Was that a tongue that she was wrapped around? No… that was what was in her mouth. So she was wrapped around a… bl… blanket? Didn’t matter. It was warm and it smelled right. It smelled like… like her. Who was there with her?
Where was here?
Who was she?
She was… She was Willow. She already knew that. She had figured that out before it had got light outside. Before outside was outside… because she was… in… inside?
What was she?
For a moment there was silence. Except of course for the thumping. The thumping was always there. The thumping had even been there when she had been in that place, in the noisy place that shook… the word ‘train’ sprang to her mind pretty quickly. She had been looking for that word for three days now. She had been on a train and it had been noisy. Shaky… shhhaky… rrrrattley. The blanket had been there then too. It hadn’t been noisy enough to drown out the thumping though.
The thumping was always there inside her as well as in her ears.
Something… someone else had always been there too. With her then. Someone who had been on that train with her… someone who had been in the place with her sometimes. Someone that she knew that she should know – like the word train. Except now… T. T. T – like train. Someone that was in her head.
Someone that had been in her head for a long time. Maybe even before… what?
What had happened to her? Why did she feel so…?
There were lots of people and things in her head but this Person was at the front of that queue in there, whilst the rest were pushing to be let in, the Person was just… standing quietly. Just waiting. Holding the rest of them back just by her being there. Without any strain. Willow had a feeling that was a good thing – that the things that were behind the Person who had gone ‘Ow’ weren’t good things. At least not all of them were.
That Person seemed so familiar in her head. She knew that she was Willow too. If she knew that then why hadn’t Willow herself? That wasn't fair. She was Willow… she should have known that first.
And if she was Willow then that made the Person…?
It just wasn’t there. It wouldn’t come. Maybe it was because this Person who went ‘Ow’ was waiting. Holding back – keeping everything at bay for her so she couldn’t get close herself?
Which was real? What was in her head or this darkened room with that same Person there? How could the Person be in both places? And where had she gone ‘ow’?
Willow sort of knew that it was better not knowing this Person’s name than being swamped by
everything. Because everything was a lot. Willow wasn’t sure just how much it was, but it was definitely a lot. She rolled over and looked over the edge of the bed at the profile of the Person who had gone ‘Ow.’
The Person was stretching.
Just like a cat.No not a cat. Something that was like a cat though. Something cat-ish. What was like a cat? Something smaller than a cat? A little cat.
Willow had wanted fish once. She knew that somehow even if she wasn't quite sure what fish were. But she didn’t think that she had ever got them. Why hadn’t she got them? Once again it was the Person who went ‘Ow’ that was in the way of her knowing. No that wasn’t it. She already knew it. She just couldn’t… remember.
She was having trouble remembering. That was all.
Remembering just about everything – she didn’t even know how much she had lost. Did the Person?
How could she remember things again? The Person who went ‘Ow’ turned back to her, obviously still feeling whatever it was that had made Willow give her that name. Willow looked into her eyes seeking the… answers… yes answers to her questions. It was dim, sort of dark actually in here, but she could see… she thought she could see that they were… what was that… colour? Blue! They suited the blonde hair that caught what light there was.
Blonde? Yes blonde.
Why was it so dark in here? The place… the place had been a box… and that had been dark too. But that was a box it was supposed to be dark… ahhh but the light. The light hurt her. She knew that one. She had to stay out of the light or bad things would happen. It would hurt. It was just that… dark hadn’t seemed so dark before. Dark had seemed… right and light had been hot and burning… dangerous. Wrong.
Before?
What was there before?
“Good morning,” the Person who went ‘Ow’ said to her. There was something that she was supposed to say to that wasn’t there? It seemed to be there, ready to be said. The words were in her mouth almost. She even parted her… yes, lips and –
Closed them again.
She was closing her lips. She knew that they were her lips. Willow lips.
How? She was pretty sure that she knew how to speak… say things but… What was she
supposed to say to the Person? She didn’t even know who the Person was. Could she
just be the person? She barely knew who
she was. ‘Good morning’ didn’t seem to be enough or it was too much. And was it even right?
“I-I think it’s a nice day,” the other person said from down there. Willow focused on her again. A nice day? She didn’t quite remember what that was. Was that a bright day? Sunny? She thought that it might be, but how could the sun be nice? The sun hurt. The sun was bad… darkness was her friend. Nice… nice was supposed to be good and the daylight was bad… so the day was bad so how could it be nice?
Wasn’t that the way that things were supposed to be? If they were… then why was the dark so uncomfortable now too? Why couldn’t she see? She was supposed to be able to see in the dark… it was the light that was bad. Wasn't it?
Was this Person who went ‘Ow’ trying to get her out into the sun that would hurt her? Was that what she wanted? Did she
want anything? Willow looked at her, trying to tell what she desired. Wow, desired… what did that mean? She was pretty sure it was something to do with ‘want.’
She kept looking at the Person. Somehow she knew the face and she knew that she should remember the expressions on it. What they meant and why they were there. What they could mean for the… things that had not happened… future.
She knew that she knew so much about this Person. She was aware that she did. But the Person who went ‘Ow’ was also the guardian of the gates. She was the one holding the memories back. The nightmares. The dreams. All of it.
Good or bad? Which was that? Holding it back for her? Stopping her from remembering. Stopping the stuff that she knew was… bad.
What was good anyway?
What was bad?
Which was which?
Witch? Which was the witch? Witch was which? Huh? Same word… different meaning. That was no fair.
She thought… no. She thought that she knew. Bad was bad so she, it… was…
No.
“I think I’m going to be cleaning for a while…” the Person went on, holding up her hand. Willow transferred her gaze from the face to the dirty hand, reached out to touch it just to see… or to touch. Something. Senses!
Wasn’t it possible that she was still asleep? That she was still in the dream? Or the nightmare? Was the Person even real? Real here? Or real in her head. How could she know that she should remember the Person and yet not know who she was? How could she be real… if she felt that she had known the Person who went ‘Ow’ even before she had known her?
Which she didn’t even remember anyway. Because the Person was in her head holding it back.
It made her head tingly – but not as tingly as when she pushed her outstretched finger into the other person’s hand. It was there – that hand was really there. If she was awake then the hand was there. She could hear and see that woman too – as well as … touch. That probably meant that the person was there. Really there. So was the other one, in her head, there too? Was she really holding back the memories?
How should she feel about that when she knew that at least some of the past stuff was bad?
Why was she feeling at all?
Everything felt so different too. The skin against skin. It felt
different even though she didn’t know how it should feel… or had felt. Had she ever felt it? Was that another memory? Why couldn’t she remember if it was a memory? More than a feeling…
Was the Person stopping her remembering? Who was the Person anyway?
At least she was real though. That was progress. The Person who said ‘Ow’ was real. That was getting somewhere. If they were both real then they were both here – wherever that was. And that meant that Willow only had to worry about who and where they were.
Instead of whether they actually were at all.
That was easier.
“…But not until I have had some breakfast. Would you like some? Tinned peaches is about the best, you know, I can offer. Again,” the other person said. It all came out very quickly.
What were peaches anyway?
“You like peaches right?”
Did she like peaches? It sounded as if this other person thought that she should like peaches and that made her want to say ‘yes.’ But speaking was still an issue. She couldn’t nod either. What if… what if she didn’t like peaches? The wrong answer… she knew that she hated to give the wrong answer. That memory came through to her.
Were peaches what she’d had in that box? She had dreamed of something sweet… Why was she thinking sweet? And furry? Were peaches sweet and furry?
She was confused by fruit.
She thought that she had dreamed anyway.
But if
this was real. If she was real now then had that been real too? And if that was real… what else was? The time that she had found herself in the box for the first time… and before that. Really real?
And then as she looked at the hand, the finger. That one touch meant that… everything might be real. As she continued to touch that hand there was something on her fingers. On her whole hand. It was slick, it was red and it was…
She thought that she should want it.
But she didn’t - how could she?
She thought that she should be licking her fingers.
But she couldn’t.
She pulled her fingers back from that dirty palm and looked at them. They were fingers… fingers were… good.
It… was gone. There was only a slight… that was a smudge on her fingertip… dirt off the palm of the Person who went ‘Ow.’
It had been… blood a moment ago. Blood?
Why blood? Why was blood on her hands, then not there? That wasn’t real then – if it had gone like that. See that was like a dream… but it was also real in some way. It had gone away now though. Was it a memory? A dream? A nightmare? She was real. The Person who went ‘Ow’ was real… all of it was real then?
Except the blood. That was gone. So it wasn't real… but it had looked real. It had even felt real. Why hadn’t she been able to smell it though?
Because it wasn’t real?
With the single finger connection between them broken the other person struggled to her feet. It looked as if it was hurting her to do that, and Willow wondered what it felt like, to hurt like that. Feeling was a strange thing. Already a lot of things felt different to how she expected and she could even feel that thump in her head. Resonating through her.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
She wasn't sure what it was… but if she really focused then there was a sort of “whoosh” that seemed to go with it in her head.
Thump-whoosh.
Thump-whoosh.
If it was hurting why had the Person who went ‘Ow’ stayed there like that? Wasn’t pain something that was there to be avoided?
Wasn’t that the point of pain? It was there to teach a lesson. ‘Don’t do this, it hurts.’
She reached out towards the pain… but it was something to be avoided. She had just realised that… so she pulled back her hand. She had her own pain even if she didn’t want the Person who went ‘Ow’ to have any.
Why was she wondering if pain was something to be sought out?
Inflicted?
Enjoyed?
No that was wrong. Pain
was something to be avoided… and there, in her head, she was again. This Person who had sat next to her all night before saying ‘Ow.’ In there she was calmly holding it all back until Willow was ready. Ready for what? Pain?
Why wasn’t she ready now? What was wrong with her?
She watched that person leave the room and saw the brightness outside the door. It was the only thing that was letting her see in here at all. It was dark otherwise. Why couldn’t she see when it was only darkness? The dark was… her place. She feared the light… didn’t she?
Why would she have to even ask that?
She had so many questions and there were no answers coming to her. The person, the woman, who had just left the room was holding back the answers. For whatever reason she was helping – or getting in the way.
And now Willow was alone. Alone with all of her questions and the ‘thump.’
And when she listened really hard… the ‘whoosh.’
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Willow still wasn’t saying anything to her. Right now she was sleeping. But whenever Tara was around her she knew that Willow was listening. She was sure of that, but Willow still wasn't saying anything in return. She had been talking to Willow but Willow wasn't even responding with nods or signs of understanding. Barely interest sometimes as she stared at something else that was interesting her. But… she was there. Someone was there. Someone Tara didn’t quite know at all – even if there were fewer signs of the other Willow she had known than she had expected.
No that wasn’t it… there had been signs of this Willow in that other one. That was what she was picking up on now – not the other way around.
And Willow was always watching too.
The morning, though it had started late, had been pretty productive all in all. She felt like she had accomplished pretty much everything that was urgent for them to live here. The electricity would be back on by evening even if she hadn’t been able to avoid leaving her bank details with them. And so the paper trail had started. That had worried her, but not as much as trying to look after Willow without power to keep food fresh, light the house and everything else that the modern world needed electricity for.
She had only managed to do that by sneaking out later in the morning when Willow had been napping, trying to get back as quickly as possible. But she’d needed to get supplies for them too. Food, toiletries, a few clothes for Willow, things for cleaning. Most stuff in the house was past it’s use by date. Fortunately no one had left any food around.
She hated doing that, going out, but what choice had she had? She didn’t even have a phone to work from right now. They couldn’t keep eating tinned peaches, when Willow got a little better she was going to need clothes. Even if they had gone back to Sunnydale she never wanted to see Willow in
those clothes again.
Bad memories.
So she had taken the extra time to go shopping. With cash. She would have to look into getting some more from her account – which she had not even stopped to clean out. There was enough for now… but it wasn't going to last forever was it? No using the credit card which would give her away. The power company was based two states over – that should give them some time even if someone started looking for them now. Not like shopping on the card – which would point right to this town if anyone was after them. She had been fretting about Willow more than the chance of them being found though.
But when she had got back Willow was fine. The bedroom door had been open, the candle in there still lit, but there was no sign that Willow had gone out of that room. In that state of mind she probably couldn’t. The sun was cutting the corridor in half now, from another window in another room. It would have been since she had gone out. She knew that she would have to think about closing the curtains for Willow to come out of that room that Tara had always hated.
But this once, the accidental restriction had been beneficial. Now she had enough food for a week… as long as they turned the power on for her as soon as they had promised. She had things to make the house liveable and she had some clothes for Willow. She had all that – and Willow had stayed safe despite her fears.
Hopefully in a week, when she needed more food, she would feel happier leaving the other woman alone when she had to. This time it had terrified her. Even though there was no reason to believe Willow would do anything silly – she wasn’t a child after all – Tara hadn’t been able to get the questions out of her head;
‘What if she gets scared?’
‘What if she wants me.’
‘What if she doesn’t
want me.She would never have known if the moment had come whilst she was out and she might have missed a chance to help Willow get better… Willow might have reached out and there would have been no one there for her. And then the moment might have been gone then. Unseen and unheard. Lost in time.
Lost like Willow seemed to be. Lost or stuck somewhere that wasn't here.
Willow wasn’t fully here with her. Not yet.
For a little while Tara had been worried that the other young woman hadn’t been brought back properly by the Vocah – not that she was ever going to be able to go and complain about the service – but it wasn't that. It was… Willow needing to adjust. Somehow she knew that with time and the right care Willow would be okay.
Better than okay if she let herself.
And then Tara could get to know her. Maybe not as she had always wanted to, but she’d like to know Willow a little before the other woman left her life forever. That was bound to happen. Willow was young and she could have a life now. She was bound to want to take that life and make the best that she could of it.
Tara hoped she did anyway.
Hoped and dreaded.
Tara just had to help her get that back and then let her go.
I killed her.
She’s alive and she’s warm now but I still killed her. And I should’ve killed her so much sooner than I did. But was it the person or the thing that she had killed? If that vampire hadn’t been this Willow then why should this Willow be that vampire? It made sense only from moment to moment.
I killed her.And I brought her back.In spite of the problems that Willow was having, she
was back. She was alive. She had the chance to live the life that she should have done before everything had gone wrong for her. Tara liked to believe that when it had gone wrong for Willow – when that young woman had died – it had gone wrong for
them. After all it was fate. She knew that. It had always been their fate.
That was what had made them valuable to Wolfram and Hart. Their fate.
They were always supposed to be together. And they had been.
Tara also had to believe that Willow having that chance, without her, was a good thing. How could Willow ever forgive the person who had slipped the stake into her chest and destroyed her?
Did she even remember that? What if she did?
She looked in again on the young woman who occupied the bed that had once been Tara’s own destiny. She was so sick of destiny, prophecy and fate. It had been her life for so long that she couldn’t remember not having one of those to fulfil.
Can’t I just live?Can’t I just live like Willow?Can’t we
just live?That was all she could do. Carry on. The vampire that had shared a name, a body… with the woman in the room had felt something for Tara… perhaps she had even come as close to love as a vampire could do. But it had been hollow inside. False.
Or maybe… maybe there had been some truth to it.
It was just that it was not that Willow that she had loved. Wanted. It was this one.
What she had got from the vampire had been as much as she had ever known though. And she had loved Willow. Rather she had loved this Willow, but accepted that she would never know her… and settled for that other. Yet here Willow was anyway in defiance of death.
Tara had brought her back.
What had she done and allowed to be done in the name of that love? People had died… and here Willow was. Great… but it hadn’t been the killer that she had loved had it? So why had she allowed it? Because she hadn’t known the ritual existed? She could have staked Willow the first time that she had met the vampire and the ritual would still have worked.
Even if… without knowing the vampire she might not have wanted the real Willow enough to cause the ritual to be carried out. She had always wanted Willow… but would she have staked her, back then, and accepted that she was gone. Just being lonely by herself – instead of with the vampire?
How, then, could this Willow forgive her for that Willow? Was bringing her back even a blessing after all that the other Willow had done?
Tara had sacrificed whatever regard the vampire had held her in for this woman to have her chance at life. She didn’t regret that but…
I still love her. I always will.And when she found out that Willow couldn’t do the same for her – and she knew that time was going to come – then no amount of preparation was going to stop it from crushing her. So it was best for her to be out here, just in case the darkness claimed her then.
The darkness… she hadn’t even thought about it in days aside from wondering about using the magic to carry Willow.
It had not touched her in days.
Perhaps Willow was holding it at bay even whilst she was sleeping, as she was now. Tara liked watching her whilst she slept. She was so peaceful. The questions that were obviously bubbling inside her seemed to stop. She just hoped that the dreams were nice ones.
-------------------
Willow’s eyes snapped open and the room was different. There was… there was light, it wasn't from the window and it wasn’t from a candle. It was yellow and it hurt her eyes but she didn’t close them again. It had been dark long enough.
She knew now…
She knew who the Person was. She had watched, through almost closed eyes, as she woke up every so often, the Person passing by the doorway almost as often. Several times whilst she was awake. She had seen the Person looking in on her. Was that concern on her face? Was that what it was called – concern?
Either that or something else. Something more than that. Something told her that it was something more and she didn’t know how she felt about that at all. She couldn’t remember ever feeling the ‘more’ for herself, but then she didn’t remember much at all. Not much. But things, words… senses… feelings… were trickling back to her.
She was glad that things were starting to come back.
Or was she?
Carefully she sat up in the bed and rolled her legs out of it. The door was still open and the light… the light out there was not so harsh and artificial as it was in here. It was a deep red. Willow knew what that meant. The sun was going down. How did she know that?
She hadn’t even had to think about the sun… or the dark… or the blood to pick those words out. They seemed… fresh in her memory. Closer. Not blocked off from her by the Person.
She should… she thought that she should be getting up when that happened. And she was. See her get her legs off the bed. She was doing something right then?
She should be going out there now – into the earliest parts of the night for the fresh… what? Peaches? Instead she pulled on a robe that was beside the bed. It smelled old and funny… and it wasn’t hers. Nothing here was hers but the blanket. Nothing else but her memories and those hadn’t been given back to her yet.
But she had a name.
She knew a name now.
The other person was called Tara. And just thinking that word was starting to open up all sorts of avenues in her thoughts… In her head, when she said the name, the Tara who was there turned to her. She turned and the memories took the chance to pass her by. They started to slip behind her back and Willow started to…
Willow thought that she liked… she liked doughnuts?
And the peaches… she really did like those. That was good as she’d been eating them.
But not frogs for some reason. Frogs were a bad, bad thing. Definitely of the bad.
And there the blonde haired woman was as she stood up at the door again, looking at her. Worried. Frogs were bad… Doughnuts were good. Tara was…
Tara was…
What was that concerned woman? Doughnut or frog?
As Tara walked into the room towards her she was saying something about the ‘sun has gone, you can come out now. Have some dinner… the powers on and I went shopping. So no more peaches.’ What did the sun have to do with it? And she liked peaches! She thought that she knew that now.
She liked peaches. Yes and there were no more. What had Tara got instead? Did Tara know what she liked then? Was there something else that was peach and furry?
As the real Tara walked into the room the Tara in Willow’s head also took step forwards. And more memories slipped past her. She wanted to run to that head Tara, to tell her to stand still – that she would come to her instead. But she… she wasn't quite sure what to say and she did want to remember too.
Doughnut or Frog?
Good or bad?
Did everything have to be like that?
Light or dark?
Both of the Tara’s kept coming towards her though. The real one seemed to be getting taller… or was it that…
I’m falling. And she was. Another new feeling. Both Tara’s ran to her and both of them heard the scream as the memories pushed past the open gateway and she knew.
Doughnuts or Frogs.
She knew now… but there was the black overtaking the two Taras. Claiming her as she fell.
***************
by LeatherQueen » Mon Sep 09, 2002 12:58 pm 
Edited by: Tulipp at: 9/10/02 12:09:37 pm
that the next one will be posted right away...right? Can't wait to see what happens.
at: 9/10/02 7:22:45 pm
but by all means take your time, i don't want this story to end. 
