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Title – She knew Written by: Urn Of Osiris Rating: G Disclaimer: Joss and ME own them and write them and messed them up LARGE. I'm just trying to fix things here. Feedback:Go for it. I'm painting on the target. Summary- This takes place a few days after Tara's senseless death. For me Willow had to be pryed off of her dead body and the events of the final 3 eps never happened. Angst alert as well but it is brief. Special thanks to Ruth for the beta. I just hope I can copy it properly. Chapter 1: You Darkness It is here. It’s still. This darkness; it has no shadows. It has nothing without light. It is nothing. I am nothing. Shaking. Shaking. I can’t seem to stop the shaking. Both hands are necessary, to steady one another. Brass, I think it is brass. I can’t tell. It fits, it’s in now and I am steady. Steady enough to turn it. Breathe, don’t stop, just breathe. With all my strength I cannot turn. But I can, and I do.
Darkness has swallowed everything. Power, it alone lights the dark. I have just witnessed it. With my touch darkness is gone. The light is so bright I blink. Blink twice. It is not enough to shield me. Yet I still seek it, yearn for it. Trust in it. Heavy feet step in. Breathe I remind myself. It is essential.
What is here? Nothing that was ever important. There is nothing in here that is going to make life better. Things now, that’s all that remains. It is so full and empty in the same. I look for any sign, any treasure. It is everywhere. I can taste it. I can smell it. I can hear it. My senses are alive. For so long I have wanted life. In this space it exists.
“Are you OK?” her voice breaks the silence. How could a best friend ask?
I wonder how anyone can ask such a senseless question. But I have an instant answer, when I see the source enter. I look up, numb. I am still tingling from my entry. I am still shaking from the fear. Yet it is the safest place. How can this dichotomy exist? How can I? I have to choose to every day, every hour, every minute, every second. It is work, like I’ve never known before.
“No,” is my simple response to her.
I am alone. Four walls surround me. There is no in or out. No escape. In one fast breath I am trapped. It is the only safety I have felt in ages. I crumble. I have no strength to stand; I have no strength for life. I have no courage. I have nothing.
“I see,” What do I see? It’s new. I’ve never seen it before. How could I have never seen it before? I crawl. I feel the carpet draw up between my fingers. Everything shifts. Where did it come from? There is no one to ask. This beautiful scarf; I have to touch it. It is so soft. The fringe tickles, she tickled. This scarf is hiding it. How could I have missed this? I wrap myself in it, in her. Oh, if these could be her arms, I would die this very moment.
Across the top, my hand drifts across the top. I can feel it. Steel, leather and wood, it is all of the earth, of nature, of the goddess. It is so beautiful. How did it come to be here? How did I? It is beaten from wear. I feel the pain. I understand the pain. I am beaten. Another lock, it has one too. Keys are so hard to find. They are so hard to keep safe. Where would I keep it? Where would she?
On the desk, never there, no safety there on the desk. Look, I think. I knew her like no other. Stop, just think. I must know, I need to know, what is inside. The bird, it held treasure before. Spin to see where it rests. By the bed, I see it by the bed. My strength grows with my curiosity. I reach it, and I open it. Oh, I knew her. How could I be so dumb? I really knew her. Oh my goddess, I really knew her. I see two keys. Which is it? I take both. One is dark from use the other bright and new. It must be the dark. It enters slowly, gently. It turns, a perfect fit. The top is so heavy when I raise it. The sound of the hinges rips the silence; rattles my heart, tortures my ears. Like a voice searching to be heard, it moves me to tears. She moves me to tears. I smell her. She is in here. The rush of her scent envelopes me.
Did she always intoxicate me? I can not remember if she always feathered me with her essence. I am at peace. How can I be at peace? My eyes are closed. I can’t bear to look. I want to see, but I am afraid. Are these her secrets, her fears, her dreams? Will I be in here anywhere? I don’t want to know. I don’t. Darkness is gone. Before me lie the chapters of her life. Where did this all come from? Where? White, bright white is resting on top. It is she. A name is on it. Written simply across the envelope. I have to know who penned it. I open it.
****
My darling,
You will never know how painful it is to say goodbye. All of the dreams for the future will never be mine to witness. I have found death. You know this and you still fight the truth. I love you. In your whole life I dream that you will find that love. That is my only hope for you now. I am certain that with love you will be strong, and with strength every other dream is possible. In this trunk is every bit of who I am. I have left this here for you.
It is yours now; to do whatever your heart moves you to do. You are free now, free to move wherever life takes you. Free to fly.
You will never be alone. I will never be alone.
****
No name. How can there be no name? Who could have written this? When did she get this? We were apart, but not for long. I have to know where it came from. I have to know.
Another one. I see another one, a box, with another lock. This one is bright. It’s shiny. I have this key, and it fits. No sound, I hear nothing when I open it. It is too new for sounds. A book. No not a book, a journal. It’s a journal. Should I open it? It is supposed to be private. I have to look. I need to look. I need to know.
Breathe. I can feel the air move into me, and I am alive. I haven’t felt alive in so long. She makes me alive. This is she. I can’t believe it, but this is she. The pages move quickly. The dates spiral forward and back. Every thing that we are is written. Every moment of joy and sorrow is in here. She left this all here. Every bit of it she left for me. How? How could she do this? Did she know? Could she see it was coming? I don’t understand. It all hits me suddenly, and washes over me like the tides of the ocean across the sands of the beach. I am pulled in and swept away by everything that is she. She consumes me. I am hungry for her.
I have to stop. I put it aside and dig. I dig deep into the treasures before me. Everything before me is a puzzle. But the pieces don’t make sense. Books! Spell books. She had so many of those, but she locked these away. Was she hiding them for me or from me? I feel the shame. I feel the pain. There are so many books here. All about death, and dying. And life. What did she know? These are clues. I know these are clues. She left all of this for me; I just need to figure out why. She knows I will not stop until I figure out why. She knew me. Breathe, she knew me.
Two more boxes; she has two more boxes. I know what’s inside. I can smell what’s inside. I smell her. Every scent she ever wore is in them. Every bit of who she was is in them. Bright white, I see more bright white. Is it her? She will help me solve the puzzle. Open it. I have to open it.
****
This is for you. I know that you will understand. I know that you will listen to your heart. This is what I want; this is what my heart wants.
****
That’s all it says. But I know her pen. It is she. I can hear her speak the words. What does she ask of me? She knew. How is it possible? Somehow she knew. A dream, a vision, I don’t care now. I know now. She called me here. Every bit of her called me here; willed me to find this. Summoned me to set her free. She is leaving it in my hands. These hands that are shaky and tired. These hands are called to wake her from her slumber. She knew. Every bit of who I am would want her here. She knew.
And I will follow her lead. I know what she wants, and I want it too. She knew everything and she knew I would be afraid. She knew me. I knew her. My work is set now. I know what to do next. My hands are steady now. I can see all that beats in front of me. I only look forward. Forward now. Moving forward now.
Breathe
Chapter 2 I invoke thee
“Shhhhhh, be still.”
Am I dreaming? Is it possible that I am dreaming? I remember it all. I remember the fire ripping through me and I remember her face. I remember the fall I remember the fall. I see the bright white; I see it all hard and sudden. I remember the fall.
Electric, moving through every space that is I. I can feel it. It’s pain. The pain is so intense I like it and I hate it all in the same moment. A twisting and turning force pushes upon every vein. I ache on every side. I ache. The pounding starts, it is so loud I want to scream. Pounding and pounding from everywhere it will not stop. Bigger and bigger harder and harder pounding and pounding. The ache, the pounding it all has started. All around everywhere.
“Shhhh, be still.”
The pain of sound forces movement across my face. I can feel it throughout me. Every bit of me is awakening. Every bit of me feels the pain of life. I am alive. Life, I’m moving. I am moving. I am breathing. I am thinking. I am. How is it that I am? I should not be. I should not.
It is she. I knew it would be. Oh how she knew me. I’ve been discovered. All that was hidden has been found. It has been opened. It has been played. Oh, by the goddess she knew me. I want to feel. I need to feel. Where am I? How am I? The ache across my brow, I can feel it. I want it to stop. I know it has only begun.
“Shhhh, be still.”
Oh! That is the sound. I remember that sound. It is like the whisper of moonlight across a silent still pond. It is all I’ve ever wanted. All I have ever needed. I am dreaming. I want to be dreaming. If I am dreaming I will wake. If I wake she will be there. I know she will be there. I need her to be there. Why can’t I wake?
Pain! I feel such deep sharp pain. Across me. It is moving across me. It hurts to feel. I like that it hurts to feel. I am waking. I am feeling. The pain is a sword honed sharply on both sides. It gives me life and sorrow in the same moment. I want them both to stop and start. I want it. Oh how I beg for it. My chest rises and falls. I can breathe. The pain is motion across me. I’m begging for more.
“Shhhh, be still. I am here.”
It is her. It is all of her. I can smell her here. I can feel her here. I need to see her here. I cannot open them. My eyes. I cannot open them. Why am I still trapped in the darkness? I am trapped inside of me. I want to get out. I want to stay in. I want to be rescued from this trap of darkness. I ache to make my body work, to carve through the darkness before me.
I can move. I can feel my hand move. It is a searing pain that drives through every vessel. I can move. My arm is plowing through the darkness to my face. I can feel the cover across my face. It makes the darkness. I need to break this from me. It is cold. I can feel that it is cold. I want more. I want warm. I want soft. I want hard. I want to feel everything I have ever known. Oh, I can feel.
“I am here. You are safe now, I am here.”
I can feel her now. She is all around me. I can feel every bit of her all through me. It is her hand across my skin that sears like a poker from the flames. I want the heat of her fire. I need the heat from her fire. Where is she? Why can’t I see her here? I can feel her. She feels me now. The beating inside her moves across me. She is here.
My eyes drag to open. Very heavy, too heavy to move all at once. I am forcing them now. I work very hard to force them now. Oh, I feel her hand move across my face. Her touch makes me cry with joy and pain. I feel the pain. My skin feels the pain. I want to feel her. I can feel every bit of her. My eyes move to open. I see the bright white. I see it so bright, I force to open but I must close. My hand moves again to make darkness. I want just enough, just enough to see, to see red, to see her. I see her red and white.
“Shh, baby I am here. I found you, I’ll always find you.”
She knew me. She knew just where to find me. How could I ever doubt it? I never doubted it. I knew it would consume her. I would consume her. She would consume me. I am here. I am here. I want to tell her. I want her to know she saved me. Every day she saved me. With every touch she saved me. Every touch. Every time. I am saved.
Across my face, her skin is moving across my face. Every part of me is awake at her touch. I can tell her now. Breath moves through me. It moves up from deep inside me. I am forcing my voice to call her. I ache to speak. I ache to say her name. I ache for everything that ever was her. And now she surrounds me. I am enveloped in her. Her touch has every part of my soul. The force of her body pushes against all of mine. I can’t get enough. I cry out. I want to cry out. To shout. To scream, to make any sound to rejoice in her all consuming love.
“Shhhhh.”
Was that her or me? I cannot tell. I feel cold fall across my face. It is running down my skin. More and more it is running across my skin. I can raise my hand. I can feel her face with my hand. I can feel her tears with my hand. I ache for her now. I am awake for her now. Oh, I can feel every bit of who we are falling from her eyes and rolling across my skin.
Her hands have found my skin. Her hands move across my skin. All I ever want is to feel her across my skin. I am so hungry now. I could feast on her essence for eternity. She is all I will ever need. She knows that. She must know that. She has to know that. I have to tell her that. We are shaking now. Her sadness moves us with a pounding rhythm. I can feel her now. Her pain is free. I have to tell her. She needs to know my words. These are my words. “Shh, Baby. I’m here. Don’t cry.”
The End
WILLOW: That's a work ethic! Buffy, you're developing a work ethic. BUFFY: Oh, no. Do they make an ointment for that
Edited by: xita at: 12/29/02 7:32:18 pm
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