@AmberGoddes- You'll have to wait and see~ ^.^' Enjoy this next update!

@Taralover- Poor Willow and Tara indeed :( Enjoy this next update!

***************************************
TITLE: The Cross (May change title later!)

AUTHOR: lilcheesenip

RATING: 14A (Is that a rating? xD) for swearing, and generally just darker topics like suicide, drugs, etc.

DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I don't own any of the characters. Wish I did, but Joss Whedon does. >.>

SUMMARY: When Willow Rosenberg came out to her friends, she expected their full support-or at least some of it. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that they would turn their backs on her, leaving her to navigate the hallways of hell in high school friendless. Now alone, and depressed, Willow struggles to make it through life day-by-day until she agrees to show her language arts teacher's niece around school, and her life changes drastically.

Tara is beautiful, and kind, but that is hardly shown. Traumatized by the loss of her mother, which she witnessed and could not stop, she refuses to let down the walls she has built around herself. Willow tries to break through them only to discover she has similar walls around herself. Can two damaged hearts meet, and finally find peace again?

SPOILERS: None that I can think of. It's all AU, so no monsters, or anything. ^.^ May steal dialogue hear and there.

FEEDBACK: Absolutely! I live for it. ^.^

Author's Note: I'm on a roll! Trying for another chapter! ;D

PART 5
------------------------------------------

Tara followed Anya out of the bush clearing when they both heard the bell ring. As Tara stood up, dusted off her knees, and tried to straighten out her clothes the best she could, Anya slung her backpack over her shoulder, then turned to her, pointing to the bushes.

“If you ever need to talk, come here. I should be nearby. I know we just kind of met, and you’re kind of afraid of me, but still. Judging by what Willow’s gone through, you’re going to deal with the same.” Her eyes were sympathetic; she didn’t say the words to hurt her, only spoke them matter-of-factly. “And Wil’s a complicated person. I still don’t understand half the stuff that goes up in that mind of her’s, but I’ve known her for awhile. Basically, what I’m saying is…” -Anya hesitated, then shuffled her feet, quiet for a moment-“Wanna be friends?”

Tara stared at her, taken-aback. No one had ever made an effort to make her feel welcome or included. Not since Willow. And now this stranger…

Anya must have seen the pure shock in her eyes, because she just grinned. “Good. So it’s settled. I’m Anya. And you are…?”

“T-T-Tara.” Tara ducked her head so her hair shielded her face.

Anya chuckled. “No wonder Willow likes you. Pleased to meet you Tara. Now, Tara, I must ask: Do you like bunnies?”
“B-bunnies…?” Tara frowned, bewildered. “I…uh…g-g-guess.”

Anya’s eyes hardened slightly. “Fine. But no mentioning them to me- ever. Got that?”

Tara nodded hastily.

Anya relaxed, back to her easygoing self. “Good. So now we know each others’ names, and we’ve established the bunny rule. Now we can really be friends. The Bush House” –She flapped a limp hand at the bushes- “is sort of my place, but now it can be ours. Ours and Willow’s. If you’d like.” Her eyes were suddenly careful. Calculating.

Tara stared hard at the ground, still trying to sort through her thoughts, snarled with confusion. Finally, she said quietly: “B-but you’re d-d-dating…Xander…a-aren’t you…?”

Anya waited for a moment. When Tara didn’t speak up again, she pressed impatiently: “And?”

“Y-y-you s-said he h-h-hates…g-gay people.” So Tara had just outed herself to a complete stranger. Oh well. Anya seemed to just know.

Anya shrugged. “He doesn’t need to know. He’s my boyfriend; he’s expendable.”

Tara looked at her, bemused. Anya smiled at her, then started walking towards the school. When she didn’t sense Tara following, she paused, and looked over her shoulder.

“Don’t tell him I said that. He’ll be sad, and then there won’t be any sex for a few days. Then I’ll be sad.”

Then she started walking again.

Tara watched her until she crossed the street. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, tempted her, tried to pull the corners of her mouth up into a smile. She started walking, hauling her backpack with her.

Maybe Sunnydale wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Only seconds later, her natural despair, which had been gone for a few, blissful minutes, returned, weighed her down. She slowed to a stop.

Who was she kidding? It was going to be hell.

[center]***[/center]

In her second hour of L.A., first period that afternoon, Tara sat perfectly still, back straightened, eyes on her paper. She had already laid out her things, carefully placed her notebook in front of her-open to the first page, already dated- arranged a row of writing utensils- a blue pen, a black pen, and a pencil. Her handheld pencil sharpener rested on the corner of her desk. She was completely prepared for class. But not for when Willow came in, which she was still waiting for, the anticipating knotting her stomach painfully, until she was so sure she would die unless Willow walked in that door at that minute.
Willow didn’t come.

Tara curled her toes inside her brand-new running shoes, and sighed internally. Would she come? It was the only question in her head. Tara wanted to see her, badly. And if Willow knew where she had left her Latin books, that would also be a plus.

The bell rang, and still, Willow did not come. Crushed, Tara picked up her black pen, and carefully wrote her name above the date in the right-hand corner of her page, slowly, digging her pen in with excessive force.

Something thumped onto her desk, scattering her pen and pencil; Tara jumped, and looked over, only to find herself looking at a slightly-tangled head of red hair.

Willow bounced out of her crouch, and placed the pen and pencil back on her desk. Her face was flushed, as if she had been running, and she was breathing heavily. “Sorry,” She puffed out. Then she motioned to her desk; looking over, Tara saw her Latin textbook and notebook. “You left those.”

Tara ducked her head. “T-t-thank-you…”

Willow nodded. Then, catching Miss Kelly’s glare out of the corner of her eye, she whispered: “Whoops. Better sit down. Talk to you after class.”

She slipped quickly into her desk, sliding a bit lower in her chair when everyone’s eyes followed her, and pulled her notebook from her bag. Tara watched as she dug through her bag, retrieved three pens- black, blue, and red- and a pencil. Her eyes slid to the side, met Tara’s; instead of being repulsed, Willow just grinned at her. Tara looked hurriedly away, blushing, caught right in the act, and hurriedly scribbled down the notes Miss Kelly was writing across the board, trying to concentrate on her class instead of the redhead sitting only inches away from her.

It could have been because it was her only class of the afternoon- but Tara was 99.9% sure it wasn’t the reason- but L.A. passed slowly. Tara was careful; she kept her eyes on her paper, and copied down the notes, afraid if she risked a glance in Willow’s direction, she would lose her focus. But finally, finally, the bell rang. Before Tara had even moved to gather her things, Willow was at her side, resting her hip against her desk.

“Interesting class, huh?”

Tara looked at her for a moment, confused by her casual manner. Did she remember nothing of what had happened in the bathroom? How she had hit her, and then run off? “…Mmm-hmm,” She agreed, even though she couldn’t repeat any of it to save her life.

They sat in silence for a moment. Willow watched as Tara carefully collected her things, and deposited them in her shoulder bag. Tara stood, and still Willow watched her. They stood in an uncomfortable quiet for a moment, each looking in different directions, until Tara finally said softly, mindful of her aunt, within hearing distance: “L-look, W-W-Willow, about w-what happened…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Willow said amiably.

Tara hesitated. “A-are you s-sure…?”

“Absolutely.” Willow waved a hand dismissively. “It’s understandable. Really.”

Tara studied her for a moment. She wanted to ask: “How can it be so understandable? You don’t even know me” but the words wouldn’t come out. So she just looked down, painfully aware of Miss Kelly, hovering protectively nearby.

Someone tugged lightly at the leather gloves she was wearing; Tara jerked away automatically, and looked up. Willow smiled at her, but her eyes were sad.

“It’s hot all year ‘round here. Don’t your hands get all sweaty and gross?”

They did, but that hardly had anything to do with the heat. Tara just shook her head.

Willow studied her for a moment, and when Tara didn’t speak, she sighed, and shrugged. “Your hands. But don’t you feel bad for them, all crammed together, dying for a breath of fresh air?”

What an odd way of putting it. Tara almost smiled at that. “N-no.”

Someone put their hand on Willow’s shoulder; the redhead turned, and Miss Kelly smiled gently at her. “Thank-you, Willow. But shouldn’t you be on your way home?”

Willow looked back at her, almost pleadingly. “I don’t have to be anywhere.”

“Won’t your mom be worried about you?” There was a slight edge to the teacher’s voice.

Willow laughed. Bitterly. “Hardly. She’s not home.”

Miss Kelly just shook her head. “Head on home now, Willow. And be safe.”

Willow looked between both of them, then sighed, and nodded. “Sure.” She glanced at Tara, and her eyes were filled with regret. “See you on Monday, Tara?”

The blonde nodded.

With another sigh, Willow trudged towards the open classroom door, shutting it quietly behind her. Tara watched her go, then stared at her desk, eyes following the lines and graffiti on it. Someone had scrawled: “T + W” and drawn a heart around it. Tara chuckled internally as she traced the heart with a finger. How darkly ironic.

“So, how was your first day?” Miss Kelly shrugged on her jacket, and looked over her shoulder at her niece, gazing blankly at her desk. “Tara?”

Tara lifted her eyes, and met her aunt’s, only to find them full of concern. She plastered on the best half-smile she could manage, and nodded. “Fine. G-good.”

Dia Kelly, hardly fooled by her niece’s terrible acting, watched on quietly as Tara returned her eyes to the desk. Yes, she had smiled, but it had been fake, as phony as her acting. There had been no happiness in her eyes, just a blankness that had become daily, a never-ending barrier between her and the world. Dia worried for the child. Only seventeen, and so scarred. Dia had no experience with children; she was only twenty-three herself, the youngest out of her family, her sister, Tara’s mother, the oldest. She needed her older sister to light the way.

Please, Katie. Just tell me what to do. I want to help her, but, god, I don’t know how.

[center]***[/center]


“So I was thinking pizza,” Dia told Tara as they were driving home. “Would that be okay?”

Tara didn’t answer; Dia glanced over at her, only to see her staring unseeingly out the window.

“Tara…honey?”

Tara jumped a bit, as if startled out of her thoughts, and looked over at her aunt. Dia smiled at her, sadly.

“Pizza? What do you think?”

Tara smiled another fake, tight-lipped smile, and nodded. Then she turned back to the window.

Dia sighed softly as they turned onto their street. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw both of Tara’s hands curl into fists. Still protected by those damned leather gloves.

“You can take off the gloves, Tara,” Dia said quietly without looking at her expression.

Tara’s fists clenched. She looked down at her hands, hidden in the gloves, and trembled. She hated taking off her gloves, and put it off until the last possible second. The only times she ever removed them were when she was locked in the safety of her room, or when she was in the bathroom.

When Tara made no move to take the gloves off, Dia sighed again. They pulled into the parking lot, and, before Dia could even turn off the ignition, Tara was already reaching for the door handle.

“Tara, wait.”

Tara paused, and looked over her shoulder at her aunt. Dia hesitated, trying to think of the best way to say what was on her mind.

“Look, Tara…what happened, with your Mom…it’s hard…and if you need to talk…”

Tara yanked on the door handle, and leapt from the car before Dia could finish, slamming the door, effectively cutting her off. She didn’t want to hear any of it, especially anything about her mother.

As Dia watched the blonde retreat to the house, and no doubt to her room, she sighed, and dropped her forehead to rest against the top of the steering wheel.

God bless her, Katie, because I just don’t know what to do.

[center]***[/center]

The loud splash of water was reassuring to Tara, always had been, when it should have frightened her, having her hearing muffled. But it was always a comfort to draw a bath, to sink into the hot water, and close her eyes. So many fond memories, days of a young child, when her mother had tenderly washed her hair and rubbed away the muck as she had chatted cheerfully about her day. Never a harsh or violent move from her. There was no fear when her mother was with her. And now, it seemed, taking a bath was the only way to keep her mother with her.

She had realized over time that when you lost someone, you didn’t lose them all at once. Just in pieces. The warm hugs. The reassurances. The tenderness that she treated her with. The embrace that was always waiting when the pain was too much for her to sleep. That was all gone immediately, stolen from her along with her mother. But the rest of it, it lingered. Her scent was the last to leave, first from the old jewellery box of hers that Tara had saved, and then, finally, from the clothes she had secretly brought to her new home. Her mother’s clothes no longer smelled of her, and with the scent, her mother disappeared from her life as well.

After checking for the third time that the door was locked, Tara pulled off her pants and shirt, bra and underwear. Last, she carefully peeled away the leather gloves, trying not to look at her hands as she did so. But she still saw them clearly; the image was one of the most frequent that haunted her dreams.

Burns.

Burns. Tara rubbed her fingers together, felt the roughened pads slide over ruined skin, and cringed at the sight and feel. Her hands, once so slender, delicate, were destroyed forever. All because of one person.

Father.

Murderer.

It should have been me.

The words flashed through her mind, along with a surge of hate and self-loathing. But, before she could completely succumb to the emotions, Tara slid back the shower curtain, and stepped carefully into the bath tub. The hot water burned her skin, but she hardly mind; she would grow used to it soon enough. She sat down, then slowly unfolded her body, relishing in the feeling of the water warming her body, leaned back and sank until only her nose remained above the water. The warmth spread through her body, burning slightly in the tender skin of her hands; Tara closed her eyes, and concentrated solely on the warmth to calm herself.

It should have been me.

As she lay there, her mind drifted away from her body, retreating to her subconscious. It was almost a doze, but Tara was still alert. In her mind, she had let her body sink completely under the water, mouth open, breathing the water into her lungs, not even bothering to fight towards the surface. And in her mind, as the water overwhelmed the scant oxygen remaining in her lungs, as the last of her life was choked from her, her mind lifted, and she floated away as her body’s struggles ceased.

She didn’t deserve the life the air offered.

_________________
|Saving Grace| |The Cross||Never Let You Go| |Keeping Destiny|

It's Tare's turn. Grow some back bone and apologize.

Yay for great update-y goodness... Good that Anya made the effort to be friends with Tara... I kinda hope that Willow accidentally sees Tara's burns and doesn't get freaked about them, so that they can start to break down each others defencive walls...

_________________
We few, we happy few. We band of buggered.

Posting While Nude Improves Your Mood.

Yeesh. You weren't kidding about the angst warning. This is great anyway, it's believable and you have a good story. Can't wait for everything to be revealed!

_________________
I'm under your spell...

I am the Queen of Mosquitoes personified, feel my annoying wrath! ~Willow, The Rose

False Euphoria ~~~ Eternity Again

LOL about Anya. I'm a bit Anyaish myself.

This description of Tara could go into the dictionary re: despair.

From the bottom, however, the only way out is up...

Ow; very deep hurts here. Such a chain of horrible associations; does she really have a strong enough will not to live to drown in a bathtub while conscious?!? If so, even deeper.
And feelign everyone else should feel the same disgust when they look at yyou. Yes, I know that feeling, both personally and from an ex-girlfriend, and at times my ex-wife as well.
If Tara ever starts letting Willow in, Red'll have her work cut out for her, especially dealing with her own issues simultaneously.

Much luck to Dia playing Aunt Bea here. (Interesting; the name you picked for Tara's mother is my daughter's name.)

_________________
Snapshots:http://thekittenboard.com/board/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=10210 a Love Story
____________________________________________________________
Kim: (breaks off the kissing) I l... (Sue stops her with a hand)
Sue: We don't talk about things like that right after, you know that, no saying those things in The Moment.
Kim: (moves the hand aside) Screw The Moment. I *love* you.

@perchiper - Let's pray she will. ^.^' Enjoy this next update!

@Zampsa1975- Yup, that's Anya. Always making an effort. Soon. In due time. Enjoy this next update!

@AmberGoddess- Nope, no kidding here. That's good. ^.^ Thank-you. ^.^

@Taralover- Well, if you read Saving Grace, you know I have one character that is a constant comic relief. Since this is such a dark story, I definitely needed one. No Faith is to be found here, but Anya will take her place. ^.^' Enjoy this next update!

@Morrigan- Now, that should make me feel sad, but, really, it makes me feel happy, because it's believable. ^.^ That's very true. Enjoy this next update!

@DaddyCatALSO- Yes. Fortunately for her, Wil, Dia, and the rest of us, Tara would feel too guilty to do that to herself, and leave her aunt alone. Yeah. It's an awful feeling. Yup. Lots of work; it'll be a long haul. But that means a lot of deep Wil/Tara conversations. ^.^

***********************************

TITLE: The Cross (May change title later!)

AUTHOR: lilcheesenip

RATING: 14A (Is that a rating? xD) for swearing, and generally just darker topics like suicide, drugs, etc.

DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I don't own any of the characters. Wish I did, but Joss Whedon does. >.>

SUMMARY: When Willow Rosenberg came out to her friends, she expected their full support-or at least some of it. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that they would turn their backs on her, leaving her to navigate the hallways of hell in high school friendless. Now alone, and depressed, Willow struggles to make it through life day-by-day until she agrees to show her language arts teacher's niece around school, and her life changes drastically.

Tara is beautiful, and kind, but that is hardly shown. Traumatized by the loss of her mother, which she witnessed and could not stop, she refuses to let down the walls she has built around herself. Willow tries to break through them only to discover she has similar walls around herself. Can two damaged hearts meet, and finally find peace again?

SPOILERS: None that I can think of. It's all AU, so no monsters, or anything. ^.^ May steal dialogue hear and there.

FEEDBACK: Absolutely! I live for it. ^.^


PART 6
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Saturday dawned bright and clear. Tara was seated at the kitchen counter, dutifully eating Fruit Loops when she would have much rather been holed up in her room, when Dia walked in. She dared to allow herself hope- this was an improvement, as Tara had taken to skipping breakfast, even on the weekend- but, as soon as she saw the familiar, dead look in her niece’s eyes, her hope was gone. There was nothing to hope for anymore. Not when it came to Tara.

“Morning, Tare.” Dia rubbed the last of the sleep from her eyes as she ambled into the kitchen to make herself her ritual cup of coffee.

Tara nodded, her eyes darting across the pages of the book she had laid flat against the counter. Dia leaned across the counter, and lifted it up so she could scan the front page. Luna. Of course. She let the book drop back to its original place.

“You know, you’ve read that book so many times, I’m really starting to worry about you. You thinking of going transgender on me?” Dia looked over at her niece with a grin.

Tara stared back in stony silence, mildly offended but deciding that starting an argument wasn’t worth the effort.

Dia cleared her throat in the sudden silence, looking awkward. “Okay, that was a lot funnier in my head.”

Tara scooped the last of the Fruit Loops into her mouth, dog-eared the already-creased page of her book, and let it shut carefully. Then she pushed her chair back, and carried her bowl to the sink. The water splashed against the bowl quietly, and Dia watched on, concerned she had truly offended Tara.

“Tara…I’m sorry. I haven’t had my coffee yet. You know I’m such a beast before then.”

Tara didn’t answer. She turned off the tap, and loaded her dishes into the dishwasher.

“Your gloves are soaked,” Dia informed her, with a touch of irritation. Couldn’t she abandon them, at least around the house?

Tara looked over at her calmly. “They’ll dry,” She said quietly. She shrugged on her sweater as she spoke.

Dia quirked an eyebrow, then reached for her coffee pot when it beeped. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Out,” Tara answered vaguely as she reached for her keys.

“Have your phone?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Tara patted her hip pocket, and then the other, just to reassure herself that both her cell phone and iPod were still there.

“Going to see Willow?”

Tara glanced back, startled. “I…n-never made plans with her.”

“Hm.” Dia shrugged, and returned to her coffee. “You know, she has a really big house. You’d know which one it was when you passed it.”

Tara looked at her aunt suspiciously. “How do you know that?”

Dia smiled to herself, and sipped her coffee. “Has a ‘Rosenberg Residence’ sign out front.”

“O-oh.” Smartass. And who is the oldest here? Tara shook her head, and headed for the front door.

“Have fun, Tara. And be safe. Call if...” Dia paused, swallowed the "if your Father or Donny comes" she almost spoke, and quickly finished with: "If there's an emergency."

Tara paused on the front step, her hand still on the doorknob. Without looking back at her aunt, she promised softly: “I will.”

[center]***[/center]

It was a long-shot, really. Anya probably had better things to do than hang out in a clump of bushes at nine-thirty on a Saturday morning. But, still, Tara couldn’t help but pray the blonde would be there as she hurried down the street, ear phones jammed in her ears, hands shoved deep in her sweatshirt pockets.

It took her ten minutes to reach the school at her brisk pace. The tangled, overgrown bushes looked empty, but Tara knew better to lose hope completely then, even though it was fading fast.

It took her longer to reach the clearing, crawling more carefully through the cramped space, taking time to find a less-hazardous way through the knots of branches. By the time she was almost completely in the clearing, she had convinced herself it was insane to think Anya would be there, but, as she dragged herself into the clearing, Anya was huddled together on the opposite side, a foam cup clutched in both hands.

“This better be frickin’ good,” She informed Tara testily.

Tara sat back on her heels, and stared. “W-w-wha...? Wh-what are y-y-you doing h-here?”

Anya glared at her. “The same reason you’re here.” She took a sip of her coffee, then set it down carefully, picking up a small plastic container and a spoon. Tara watched silently as Anya yanked off the lid, and spooned something into her mouth.

“A-are you e-e-eating icing...?”

Anya glowered at her again, and stuck another spoonful of milk-chocolate icing in her mouth. “It’s nine-frickin’- thirty. Whadda ya expect me to be eating? Vegetables?”

Tara sat down cross-legged across from Anya, and studied the blonde in silence for a moment. Anya stared at evenly as she licked the remaining icing off the spoon with a discreet smirk.

Finally, with a sigh, Anya set the spoon and icing down. “Okay, since we’re both here now, let’s get down to business. You wanna know about Willow, correct?”

Tara tilted her head to the side, considering that. Yes. She did. But was that what she had come for?

Yes. She had come here for that. To learn about Willow. To understand her. Even if it, if they, were an impossibility, she was still going to cling to that vain hope. The only thing worth breathing for, the only light in the eternal darkness that surrounded her.

Anya was quiet for a moment. “Willow’s special. But you know that, don’t you?” She cocked her head to the side, examined Tara for a moment. “But, then again, you seem pretty special yourself.”

Tara blinked at her, then ducked her head when she felt her cheeks flush pink with embarrassment. Anya chuckled, then was quiet, suddenly serious.

“But you’ve had your share of life’s shit, haven’t you?” When Tara looked up, Anya pointed to her gloves. “Those are more than a fashion statement, aren’t they? If not, they’re a pretty god-awful fashion statement.”

Anya’s words were so unexpected, Tara actually smiled. But as soon as she realized what she was doing, she quickly wiped her expression clean. She stared down at her gloved hands, held them side by side, turned them so the light reflected off the dark leather. They were shaking, so subtly she hardly noticed it herself; she placed them on her knees, and prayed Anya hadn’t noticed.

“Y-y-yeah...m-more than just a f-fashion s-statement.”

Anya looked at her with a mixture pity and compassion. “Just like Willow’s sweaters.”

“Wh-what are you t-t-talking about...?”

Anya grimaced. “Please. You think she wears those sweaters just because? You must have picked up by now that if Willow is anything, she is practical. Surely she would know better than to wear heavy, dark sweaters when it’s so hot out all the time? Unless she has something to hide.”

Tara stared as Anya took another thoughtful sip from her coffee.

It’s hot all year ‘round here. Don’t your hands get all sweaty and gross?

Tara straightened with a jerk as the horrifying revelation washed over her. Tight-fitting dark sweaters, ones that had no danger of the sleeves sliding back. Wrists covered...

“No...” She breathed, shaking her head slowly, “I-it’s not true.”

Anya swallowed a mouthful of coffee. “Completely. She’s a cutter. I’ve seen the scars myself.”

“S-s-she...?”

“Showed me?” Anya snorted. “Have you met Willow? She never lets on when she’s in pain. No, I saw it when we were changing for Gym; she got sloppy, and didn’t hide them.” Anya closed her eyes, and shivered. “It was horrible.”

“B-but shouldn’t s-s-she...” Tara paused for a moment, still struggling to understand how such a bright girl- woman, She mentally corrected herself- could be in so much pain without Tara even seeing it herself. She was the master of pain; she knew it inside and out. She could look at someone and tell immediately if they were suffering or not. But she had seen none of it when she had looked at Willow. “Sh-shouldn’t she t-t-talk to...s-someone?”

“Shouldn’t you?” Anya retorted good naturedly, smiling to lessen the sharpness of the accusation. “But, yes, she should talk to someone, which is exactly why she’ll be here in” –Anya paused, pulled back her sleeve, and checked her watch- “five minutes, give or take. Though Willow is always on time for everything. It’s disgusting, really.”

“Wh-what...?!”

Anya shrugged, unrepentant, even when she saw the panic in Tara’s expression. “It was easy. I told her you and me were having a meeting this morning. She asked what time it was at. She was willing to come at three-thirty in the morning. She’s out of her mind.” Anya shook her head, but there was a smile on her face.

Tara dropped her eyes to her knees, traced the ridges of her jeans while her mind raced. Would it just be better if she ran now? Was staying a good idea? No; why was she even thinking that there was a possibility it could be? It was dangerous. She had to leave, but, god, she didn’t want to.

“Don’t even think about running,” Anya said mildly. She was staring into her coffee cup, the lid now removed, swirling the contents idly. “I’ll catch you.” Her voice was calm, but her threat was real.
Tara wilted, both inwardly and physically. “W-why...?”

“Why am I doing this?” Anya looked up, both amused and hurt. “It’s time she has an intervention. I haven’t told you this yet, but she almost overdosed on Advil one time. She was two pills away from killing herself. She didn’t show at school, and if I hadn’t come by to drop off her L.A...” Anya paused, and shivered. “After that, she made more of an effort. She came to school every day. She did her work- mostly. She talked when she had to. It was pathetic, but she was trying to live. She really was.” The blonde was quiet for a moment, her eyes on her cup. “But what if she decides live isn’t worth living anymore? What if she tries again? I don’t want that to happen. She needs help. And you’re gonna help me give it to her.”

Tara closed her eyes with an internal sigh. Of course she would help; there was no question about that. It was the image of Willow, still, cold, unbreathing, laying somewhere in a hospital or a morgue that was bringing the fever back over her. The fear slicked her palms with sweat, made her ears ring, and with it, the fever followed, burning her.

“Hey, you okay?” Anya asked, a little concerned. She leaned forward, but Tara flinched away from her.

“Tara?”

Before Anya could press further, or Tara could answer her, they was a smashing sound from Tara’s right, and, with a loud yelp, Willow tumbled into the clearing, and right into Tara’s lap.

Tara reached out automatically to brace the redhead, arms wrapping around her, cradling her to her body instinctively. There was a long moment in which Willow took a moment to orient herself, and Tara just stared at her, both surprised and amused. Then Willow grinned up at her.

“Hey. You are here. I thought Anya was lying. Oh! Sorry!” When she realized what was happening, she scrambled up, and away. Tara shifted a few inches away, cheeks burning, and stared at her knees.

“Alrighty. Now I’m here. Wait. Why the frilly heck am I here?” Willow wrinkled her nose as she looked over at Anya.

“You did this wonderful little thing called walking, where you move your legs at a leisurely pace. It gets you places.”

“Humph. Actually, I did a wonderful little thing called running.”

“Now that’s just sad.”

Willow stuck her tongue out at Anya, then turned to the other blonde. “I did not expect to see you ‘till Monday. Since when are you aligned with She who Annoys A Lot? Actually, I was surprised to get a call from you.” Willow frowned at Anya. “Is there a problem?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Anya answered calmly. She drained the last of her coffee, and dropped the foam cup to the grass.

Willow glared at her, lip curling. “Give a hoot, Anya. Don’t pollute.”

Anya rolled her eyes.

“Now.” Willow took a moment to arrange herself so she was sitting cross-legged like the other two in the clearing. “Huh. Little cozy in here.” Her knee was pressed against Tara’s, and she didn’t mind that at all. But Tara did. She shrank back, pressing her back against the branches behind her, just to put some distance between them. Willow felt her mouth pull down at the corners. She cleared her throat, and looked over at Anya, regarding her seriously from across the small clearing. “You, um, said there was a problem.”

Both blondes stared at her in silence. Under their scrutiny, Willow squirmed uncomfortably.

“What?” She said when neither spoke. “What? What’s the matter? Is someone hurt? Is it Buffy? God, Xander’s okay, isn’t he? Is it you, Anya? Mrs. Summers? Dawnie’s okay, isn’t she?”

Tara lowered her eyes, unable to take the panic in the redhead’s eyes. Anya didn’t answer.

“Oh, god.” Willow’s eyes filled with sudden tears. “Dawnie is okay, isn’t she?”

Conspicuously, Anya elbowed Tara in the side, who winced, then looked up at her. Anya tilted her head towards Willow, and mouthed: “Go on.”

“U-um…D-Dawnie is…fine. It’s…i-it’s…” Tara sucked in a shaky breath, and tried again. “I-it’s you w-who’s the p-p-problem.”

Willow’s head snapped up; her back went rigid, her eyes suddenly suspicious. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

Tara looked to Anya for help, who only murmured: “Wrists”, then went back to the icing she had abandoned earlier. Willow’s eyes flashed between the two of them, then hardened.

“What’s going on?” She demanded.

“W-Willow.” Tara took a deep breath to steel herself. “Let us s-s-see your w-wrists.”

_________________
|Saving Grace| |The Cross||Never Let You Go| |Keeping Destiny|

Confrontation ahead! Can't wait. Can't wait!

Oooh! Ooooh! Funfunfun. Well, angsty fun, but still. I love this fic! More soon please! Can't wait to see what happens.

_________________
I'm under your spell...

I am the Queen of Mosquitoes personified, feel my annoying wrath! ~Willow, The Rose

False Euphoria ~~~ Eternity Again

I missed three updates!!! Well I was on a trip, but still...

Anyway... Did I mentioned before that I love this story?

Thank goodness for Anya, she's going to make things move along a bit faster apparently but I don't know just how well this confrontation between Tara and Willow is going to go because if she goes all defensive it could end up in a fight so... and Tara has so many issues to deal with as well... Abuse is never an easy thing to overcome.

More soon please.

_________________
Se siente tan bien todo lo que hace mal... y contigo nunca es suficiente.

I look forward to more.

Interesting. I wonder if Willow will turn the tables of the confrontation?

It has been a while since I read this fic and I do like the direction you are heading ... I am eager to hear Willow's reaction to the last line about her wrists.

_________________
Patience is a virtue I have yet to acquire
-- me

I am my beloved and my beloved is mine
-- King Solomon's Song of Songs

Only reality can escape the limits of our imagination
-- Rivka Galchen, Atmospheric Disturbances

Man is nothing else but that which he makes of himself
-- Jean-Paul Sartre

Good God, how the days have got up and left me!!
*sighs dramatically*
Right then, now that I've got my daily drama scene out of my veins, I am here to tell you...
You. Are. Amazing!!!
I have completely fallen in love with your fic! It is intense and addicting!
You're portrayal of Anya is interesting, yet keeps the Anyaness it needs to be her. You don't read many fics with Buffy and Xander MIA while Anya steps up the mantle of a good friend.
I LOVE this part:

I love it, because it shows us a side of Anya that is just soo completely caring and, well I can't exactly describe it but its a good thing.

I'm going to be checking up on this fic more often now... no pressure or anything.

Loving This Story
~J

_________________
In the Immortal Words of Tara Maclay:
"Japanese commercials are weird."
I think we all can agree on that subject.

Yay for great update-y goodness... I hope Willow doesn't take Tara's & Anya's effort to help her the wrong way...

_________________
We few, we happy few. We band of buggered.

Posting While Nude Improves Your Mood.

@perchiper- I love how excited you are. xD Enjoy this next update!

@AmberGoddess- As fun as angst can get, is what you're saying? xD Glad you're enjoying this; enjoy this next update!

@Egnalos- Oh, I just got back from a trip today. Actually wrote most of this chapter on the way back from said trip. ^.^' How was your trip? Um, yup, several times, along with Saving Grace xD Both girls are on the defense. Enjoy this next update!

@Taralover- Your wish- er, looking forward to- my command. Enjoy this next update! (It's 1:30 in the morning where I am. I apologize for my Miss Psycho Pep Squad behavior )

@Morrigan- Guess you'll have to read and find out. ;D Enjoy this next update!

@LittleBit- Well, I'm sorry it took so long! Enjoy this next update!

@Vamp_Willz- Once again, you make me blush. ^.^' I'm glad that you like the way I portrayed Anya; I had to have more serious, yet keep her, as you put it, Anyaness. I wasn't sure if I'd succeed. Well, Anya's just under appreciated. xD Well, if you've got no words to describe, I definitely take that as a good thing. ^.^ Enjoy this next update!

@Zampsa1975- Well, you know Willow: Unpredictable. xD Enjoy this next update!

**********************
TITLE: The Cross (May change title later!)

AUTHOR: lilcheesenip

RATING: 14A (Is that a rating? xD) for swearing, and generally just darker topics like suicide, drugs, etc.

DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I don't own any of the characters. Wish I did, but Joss Whedon does. >.>

SUMMARY: When Willow Rosenberg came out to her friends, she expected their full support-or at least some of it. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that they would turn their backs on her, leaving her to navigate the hallways of hell in high school friendless. Now alone, and depressed, Willow struggles to make it through life day-by-day until she agrees to show her language arts teacher's niece around school, and her life changes drastically.

Tara is beautiful, and kind, but that is hardly shown. Traumatized by the loss of her mother, which she witnessed and could not stop, she refuses to let down the walls she has built around herself. Willow tries to break through them only to discover she has similar walls around herself. Can two damaged hearts meet, and finally find peace again?

SPOILERS: None that I can think of. It's all AU, so no monsters, or anything. ^.^ May steal dialogue hear and there.

FEEDBACK: Absolutely! I live for it. ^.^

PART 7
-------------------------

“What?”

“I-I said…” Tara faltered for a minute, then inhaled deeply. “I s-said: Let us s-see your w-w-wrists.”

“Why?” Willow asked suspiciously. Tara couldn’t help but notice that she folded her arms tightly across her chest, pressing her wrists against her sides.

“J-just…Please.”

“But why?” Willow repeated, making no move to do as Tara asked.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Willow!” Anya, knocking her empty coffee cup out of the way, lunged for the redhead. There was a brief struggle, and then Anya retreated back, holding one of Willow’s wrists tightly. Grimly, she raised it into the air and yanked down the sleeve, baring Willow’s wrist.

Something gasped sharply; Tara couldn’t be sure if it was herself or Anya. She was too busy staring at Willow’s bony wrists, the skin that was showing completely ravished with scars. Wide scars that looked like they could only be given by a large chopping knife, smaller pink ribbons that Tara guessed were from steak knives or scissors. The skin of her wrist was pink with scars, with only small specks of pale color.

One of the cuts was fresh; Anya’s quick movement had reopened it. Tara watched, horrified, as Willow’s blood welled up along the small cut, and began to trickle down her upraised arm, the scarlet tears staining her skin with red.

“O-oh my god,” Tara managed to choke out. Even Anya looked horrorstricken; she hadn’t expected the damage to be so great.

Willow stared at them both with stony, red-rimmed eyes, wiped free of any expression besides a quiet anger. She didn’t even seem to notice she was bleeding.

“Well?” She asked softly, angrily. “Are you happy now?”

“Willow.” It was almost a sob; Tara and Willow both looked over at Anya, who was staring blankly at Willow’s wrist. Tears were pooling in her eyes, but she didn’t seem to care. She started to reach forward with tentative fingers, then pulled back, as if she realized what she was doing. “How could you?”

“How could I what?” Willow snapped, “How could I try to relieve some of the pain? How could I try to feel less alone? How could I try to do what’s best for me?”

Tara blinked furiously, trying to clear her own eyes. Hot tears burned them, streamed down her cheeks. “Th-that’s not what’s best for you.”

Willow turned on her viciously. “How do you know that?!” Her voice cracked, and her eyes moistened, but her anger stayed true. Tara flinched under its force. “How do you know that taking myself out of this world isn’t what’s best for both me and everyone else?!”

“Don’t say that!” Anya half-shrieked. Tara and Willow both glanced at her, a little shocked when the tears in her eyes spilled over. “God, Willow, please don’t talk like that.”

Willow stared at her hard, with that same emotionless expression, even as the blood began to collect in the crease of her elbow and the tears coursed down her cheeks, dripped off her chin.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Anya begged, in that same hopeless, terrified tone. “I’m your friend. We’re your friends. We wouldn’t be better off if you killed yourself. I mean, my god, Willow! How could you be so selfish?”

Tara was beginning to see a bit of the true Anya coming through; she cringed.

Willow’s eyes went flat. “How could I be so selfish?” She asked in a dangerously quiet tone.

Anya’s head bobbed fiercely. “Yeah! I mean, what about me? I’m your friend! God, Willow! If you feel like this, talk to someone! Talk to me, for God’s sake! And what about Tara?”

Willow’s head swiveled to the side to examine the other blonde; her green eyes scanned her face, saw the pure fear in her normally vacant eyes, registered the tears staining her cheeks. Did her eyes soften the tiniest bit?

“What about her?” But her tone wasn’t as harsh as before.

“Duh!” Anya’s hand flashed out, as if she wanted to smack Willow upside the head, but she stopped herself just in time. “She’s your girlfriend!”

“She is not!”

“W-w-we’re not…!”

“Oh, please!” But instead of pursuing the topic, Anya’s anger suddenly faded, and she stared at Willow with surprisingly vulnerable eyes. “Why, Willow? I tried to help you. I tried, I really did. But you just wouldn’t…” She dropped Willow’s wrist, and wiped furiously at her eyes, staring hard at her knees.

Something in Willow broke; Tara saw it happen. First her eyes gentled, the anger in them cooling until it was nonexistent. Her body, tensed as if she expected she would have to fight, relaxed. Her hands, clenched into fists, uncurled. Her face crumpled, and the utter hopelessness and pain Tara saw in it tore at her heart.

“I know,” Willow breathed. “God, I know, Anya. And I’m sorry. I just…I just felt that…I don’t know, that you were playing with me? That if I got close to you again, you’d just…leave me like B-Buffy and Xander did. I just…I couldn’t trust you again. I couldn’t trust anyone.”

Anya studied her for a moment. “But why? I wanted to help you. I wanted to be your friend. Your gay; so what? Why does it matter? You’re still the same Willow you always were. You still have red hair, and green eyes, and that damn pen system for taking notes. You still talk weird, use stupid little phrases like ‘Finey McFine’ and words like ‘Spaz’. You still babble when you’re nervous, or when your excited. The only difference is that you like girls- or, you like Tara, more specifically. Shut it,” She added when both girls opened their mouths to protest. “I guess what I’m trying to say is” –She sighed, and rubbed at her still watering eyes with the heel of her hands, then met Willow’s gaze steadily- “You’re still Willow. I still love you, even though we differ on whether penises or vaginas are better.” Anya cleared her throat, and looked back at her knees. “Or that bunnies aren’t scary, which they are,” She finished in a mutter.

Willow stared at her for a long moment. And then, slowly, a small smile began to spread across her face. Before Anya could anticipate her next action, she reached out, and dragged the blonde into a tight hug, resting her chin on Anya’s shoulder and closing her eyes as she began to cry, out of joy or pain, Tara couldn’t be sure. Anya looked shocked at first, but didn’t try to pull away.

“I’m sorry,” Willow sobbed softly, “So sorry.”

Anya slowly relaxed. At first, she just patted Willow’s back gingerly, but then her own tears began to spill over again, and she joined the embrace, wrapping her arms around Willow’s neck to pull her closer.

“I know,” She said quietly, closing her own eyes. “I know.”

[center]***[/center]

Willow was still crying a bit when the three of them dragged themselves out of the bushes. While Anya and Willow talked for a moment, too low for Tara to eavesdrop, Tara wandered a short distance away and kept herself occupied by carefully detangling a loose twig caught in her ponytail. She waited patiently until Willow patted Anya on the arm, then waved Tara closer.

“Sorry about that,” She said, sniffling a bit. “Didn’t really want you to hear all my issues.”

“I-it’s okay.”

“Hey, if she hadn’t been there, there wouldn’t have been any issues to hear,” Anya pointed out amiably.

“Not true,” Willow shot back.

“So true. Would you have really come if it had just been me?”

Willow considered that, then shrugged, smiling a bit sheepishly. “I guess not.”

“Exactly. You came because of Tara.” Anya paused, the grinned. “You liiikkkeee her.”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Oh, shut up, Anya!”

Tara had to bite her lip to keep herself from smiling. But just that, that natural impulse to show amusement at their childish antics, was a shock to her. She went ridged for a moment, but neither of her companions seemed to notice, much to her gratitude.

Anya fanned herself theatrically. “God, it’s hot out. Hey, Wil, you still got that giant-ass pool in your backyard?”

Willow glared at her. “Yes, I still have the pool in my backyard, though it is neither giant nor ass related.”

Anya snorted. “Whatever you say. Let’s swim for a bit, yeah?”

“Sure,” Willow answered easily. A bit sarcastically, Tara couldn’t help but notice. “My mom’s not around, anyways. So it’d just be me and I. And me and I could use the company.”

“That’s gotta be the first time I’ve heard you say that in a long time. You in, Tara?”

“Yeah, c’mon, Tara.” Willow turned to her with her unfair lost-puppy look. “You can borrow one of my many unused bathing suits. I’m sure I have one that’ll fit you.”

Anya yawned, and stretched. “I’m gonna need one of those. But if you give me the one with the bunnies all over it, smiling or not, I’m gonna beat you to death. And then I’m gonna steal all your money to do the economic business around here a favour by using it to open a store.”

“You’re a great pal, Anya. Tara?”

Tara looked over at her uncertainly. It seemed too intimate to her, to wear a clothing article of Willow’s, even if it hadn’t been used. Too close, too real. And Willow’s resilience was a bit scary to her. “N-no, I t-t-think I’ll…”

“Aw, Tara.” Willow took her arm, and led her a short distance away, shooting a dirty look over her shoulder at Anya. “It’s because of her, isn’t she? Don’t mind Anya; she’s always been Pushy McPusherson.”

“N-no, it’s not Anya; she’s g-great.”

Willow’s face fell; she let go of Tara’s arm. “It’s me, isn’t it? I’m too annoying, aren’t I? God, Willow, what’s wrong with you?” Suddenly, she wasn’t focussing on Tara, instead directing her annoyance at herself.

“W-Willow. Willow, no. I-I-It’s not you. Y-you’re…you’re w-w-wonderful. You’re special.”

Did I really just say those words? God, what’s wrong with me?!

Willow looked up, studied Tara’s flushed face, saw the sincerity, and smiled at her. She reached out, and squeezed Tara’s hand. “Please come,” She whispered.

“Yeah, Tara,” Anya whispered in her other ear, making her jump, “Live a bit.”

“Anya!” Willow glared at her.

“Hey, don’t blame me. The lead-someone-away-to-have-a-private-talk thing never worked for me. It is way too easy to just walk over and eavesdrop. Especially if you two are too wrapped up in each other to notice.”

“Oh, you are so getting the bunny bathing suit!”

“Oh, I don’t think so!”

“You wanna fight about it?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

Anya took a sudden step forward, until they were almost nose-to-nose, and Willow flinched away from her automatically.

“Ha! I win that round. I told you I was the master of the Personal Space game.”

“That was so unfair! You gave me no warning at all!”

Tara couldn’t hold back her smile that time. And when Willow saw her smiling out of the corner of her eye, her own goofy grin spread across her face; she bounded over to Tara, and took her hand without thinking, not seeming to notice when Tara cringed.

“Please come. We can go get your bathing suit, if you’re more comfortable with that.”

Tara couldn’t stand to think about how devastated Willow would be if she refused; she could hardly stand her eagerness now. “O-okay. I g-guess. As long as m-my aunt s-says it’s o-o-okay.”

“Yay!” Willow bounced in for what was supposed to be a quick hug, but, when her arms snaked around Tara’s waist, something kept them there longer than they should have. Something just felt so…right about the embrace; their bodies fit together perfectly. Just when she was leaning forward to rest her ear against Tara’s chest did she catch herself, and nearly tripped stepping back, her face flaring until it matched her hair.

Tara stared at her feet, blushing tomato-red. Willow looked away for a moment, embarrassed, then turned her eyes back to Tara, unable to look away for too long. She cocked her head to the side, studying her.

“Did you mean what you said back then? A-about me being special?”

Tara looked up.Don’t do it, Tara. Don’t say yes. You’ll give her false hopes.

But she’d be so sad if I said no.

You’d be protecting her.

I’d be lying to her.

…I’m really arguing with myself. I really am losing my mind.

Against her better judgement, Tara nodded, and offered Willow a fraction of a smile. “E-every word.”

Willow flushed with pleasure, and smiled, embarrassed once more. She looked for at her feet for a moment, then back at Tara. Her head tilted to the side once more.

“You’re special, too.”

“M-me?” Tara half-laughed nervously, and shook her head. “O-oh, no.”

Keeping her head to the side, Willow shook her head as well, examining the taller blonde. “You have no idea what you’re really like, do you? How amazing you are?”

Tara blinked at her. “Hu-huh?”

“Okay, ladies.” Anya elbowed between them; both girls glanced away, flustered. “Save the sex for later, when I’m not around. Actually…Nah, never mind.” Her eyes flickered between the two of them, noted their embarrassment; she grinned. “Aw, how sweet. Two young girls in love. Now, as much as I’m encouraging this relationship, can we go already?”

“Sure. Of course. Let us. Go, I mean.” Willow snapped her mouth shut before she could say anything else stupid, and started walking, only to realize she had no idea where Tara lived. She spun back to the two blondes, and looked at Tara imploringly. “Um…?”

Tara swallowed her laugh. “T-that way,” She said, pointing down the street.

As Willow took lead, trotting ahead of them, Anya fell in step with Tara.

“She’s really got the hots for you.”

“Wh-what…?”

“Likes you. A lot. She told me she thinks your beautiful.”

Tara felt her cheeks grow hot. “Sh-she did…?”

“Well, not verbally.” Anya shrugged. “I can see it in her eyes every time she looks at you.”

Tara stared at the sidewalk, unsure of what she was supposed to say. Willow thought she was beautiful? Anya could really tell that just by looking at the way Willow looked at her?

Tara’s whole body tingled strangely at that idea, the idea that Willow found her attractive. It was an odd feeling. Uplifting. Suddenly, she wanted to sing at the top of her lungs, even though she hadn’t sung since her twelfth birthday.

“So.” Anya rubbed her hands together. “About the sex thing-”

“An-ya!” Willow wailed over her shoulder.

“Wha-at?” Anya sing-songed back cheerfully.

“Stop bugging Tara! We are not girlfriends, and we are not having sex. Even if we were, why would we let you see?”

“Because I’m your best friend?”

“Not a legitimate enough reason.”

“I want to video tape it and sell it online as cheap but tasteful lesbian porn?”

“You’re so pathetic!”

Tara couldn’t help it; she smiled again.

_________________
|Saving Grace| |The Cross||Never Let You Go| |Keeping Destiny|

Yay for great update-y goodness... Good that Tara is starting to smile again...

_________________
We few, we happy few. We band of buggered.

Posting While Nude Improves Your Mood.

Uwaaaahhhhh! A very OOC in there.

..............

...............................

...................................................

....So. What!

Fuck it. I don't care if there's no Buff-Xan-Will. This is just wickedly awesome! Tara-Willow-Anya interaction is soooo much better displayed here.

@lilcheesenip, You potrayed them so well. Waiting for the next

You captured Anya perfectly. I love the whole cheap yet tasteful lesbian porn line. Anyway, great chapter!

_________________
"When you run with the Doctor, it feels like it'll never end. But however hard you try you can't run forever. Everybody knows that everybody dies and nobody knows it like the Doctor. But I do think that all the skies of all the worlds might just turn dark if he ever for one moment, accepts it. Everybody knows that everybody dies. But not every day. Not today. Some days are special. Some days are so, so blessed. Some days, nobody dies at all. Now and then, every once in a very long while, every day in a million days, when the wind stands fair, and the Doctor comes to call... everybody lives." River Song - "Forest of the Dead"

Gad, I love this anya, and it's hjow I think she and willow should ahve been, none of that next-t-o-jelaousy thing on the show. But I'm hoping this isn't all to willow's recovery; a single breakdown like that makes good TV but dealign with the underlying problem almost always takes a long, ahrd slog.
I wonder if Anya will evnetually rip into Xander abotu his role in this?

_________________
Snapshots:http://thekittenboard.com/board/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=10210 a Love Story
____________________________________________________________
Kim: (breaks off the kissing) I l... (Sue stops her with a hand)
Sue: We don't talk about things like that right after, you know that, no saying those things in The Moment.
Kim: (moves the hand aside) Screw The Moment. I *love* you.

Poor Willow.I never cut myself but I do pick and scratch at anything itchy, so I have loads of scars from bug bites.

@lilcheesenip My trip was great, thank you. I hope yours was too.

The confrontation went waaayyy better than I thought it would go which is a really good thing in my book.

I always loved Anya on the show and your Anya is just as good if not better.

Now that they are going to the pool I wonder if Tara will have other issues with her body besides her hands, and talking about said hands... How's she gonna deal with that?

Guess I'll have to wait for the next one uh? Hopefully it'll come veeery soon. Sorry to be greedy... NOT.

_________________
Se siente tan bien todo lo que hace mal... y contigo nunca es suficiente.

WOW - GREAT Story - I'm hooked

Its really hard for me to get into AU fics.. BUT... I LOVE THIS ONE... cant wait for more!

_________________
"Those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind. "- Dr Seuss

My god. Willow's got some serious issues. Loving Anya, though, she's coming out more human than usual. The porn line was priceless too.

_________________
I'm under your spell...

I am the Queen of Mosquitoes personified, feel my annoying wrath! ~Willow, The Rose

False Euphoria ~~~ Eternity Again

@Zampsa1975- Well, we all know how much we love Tara's smile. ^.^ Enjoy this next update.

@perchiper- ^.^ Aw, thank-you. I'm glad you like them grouped together! Enjoy this next update!

@Sarah- ^.^ Thank-you. Heh. Glad you like that line. Enjoy this next update!

@DaddyCatALSO- Know what you mean. They were always fighting with each other over stupid things. Okay, so they do that too in my fanfic, but it's not as serious and jealous-filled. xD Oh, it's definitely not over. I have lots planned. xD Enjoy this next update!

@Taralover- The only scar I have is a little crescent moon shape on my middle finger from cutting my finger while cutting an apple during cooking class. xD Enjoy this next update!

@Egnalos- Well, that's good. And yes, mine was great, too. ^.^ How's Tara going to deal? Well, I guess you'll have to read and find out. Enjoy this next update!

@Füchsin- ^.^ Thank-you. Enjoy this next update!

@moldypepsi- Well, that makes me feel quite special. ^.^ Enjoy this next update!

@AmberGoddes- But don't we all have issues? xD Yes, Anya's more sensitive in this fic. ^.^' Enjoy this next update!

********
TITLE: The Cross (May change title later!)

AUTHOR: lilcheesenip

RATING: 14A (Is that a rating? xD) for swearing, and generally just darker topics like suicide, drugs, etc.

DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I don't own any of the characters. Wish I did, but Joss Whedon does. >.>

SUMMARY: When Willow Rosenberg came out to her friends, she expected their full support-or at least some of it. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that they would turn their backs on her, leaving her to navigate the hallways of hell in high school friendless. Now alone, and depressed, Willow struggles to make it through life day-by-day until she agrees to show her language arts teacher's niece around school, and her life changes drastically.

Tara is beautiful, and kind, but that is hardly shown. Traumatized by the loss of her mother, which she witnessed and could not stop, she refuses to let down the walls she has built around herself. Willow tries to break through them only to discover she has similar walls around herself. Can two damaged hearts meet, and finally find peace again?

SPOILERS: None that I can think of. It's all AU, so no monsters, or anything. ^.^ May steal dialogue hear and there.

FEEDBACK: Absolutely! I live for it. ^.^

PART 8
------------------------------------------

Dia was sitting at the kitchen table, grading papers, when Tara slipped through the door, beckoning Willow and Anya in hesitantly after her.

“Oh, good, Tara, you’re back-oh, hello Willow...Anya, is that you?” Dia peered more closely at the second blonde occupying her entry way, a little surprised.

“Miss Kelly.” Anya bowed in what she was an appropriate matter of politeness while Tara stifled a giggle and Willow rolled her eyes.

“Nice to see you again, ma’m,” Willow said with a smile.

“Tara?” Dia turned her questioning eyes to her niece, who only looked back without emotion.

“W-Willow invited m-me to go s-s-swimming...Is t-that okay...?”

Dia tilted her head to the side, and studied Tara for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“M-mm-hmm.”

Dia bit her lip, then nodded. “If you think it will be okay, then, yes, you may go.”

“Th-thanks.” Unable to take the strange looks she could feel Willow and Anya giving her, she murmured: “Be right back” and fled down the stairs to her room.

Willow and Anya both watched her go silently; Anya quirked an eyebrow, while Willow gnawed on her bottom lip, deep in thought.

“What’s the deal with Tara and going swimming?”

Dia looked down at the paper she was working on, and gripped her pen more tightly than necessary, tempted to just ask the two girls to wait outside. But then she sighed, and put down her pen, looking down at Anya.

“You girls can come in, you know.”

Both removed their shoes, Anya leaving hers in the middle of the mat while Willow carefully lined hers up against the edge, just like she’d always been taught, subconsciously slipping back into her proper habits. Then they climbed the stairs to join Dia at the kitchen table

Willow liked Tara’s house, she decided. It was nothing like her house, with its shining countertops, scrubbed floors, and tidied rooms. Books were piled hazardously in the kitchen and living room. Willow had to move two from her chair just to sit down. There was a row of pictures along the mantle place in the living room of a girl Willow recognized. Sliding back her chair without a word, she walked, mesmerized, over to examine the pictures of Tara gracing the mantle.

Most of the first pictures were similar, with an occasional tooth lost or grown here, or a different hairstyle. Tara’s eyes remained constant- happy, a beautiful blue ocean of joy- her pose always loose, comfortable. Willow followed the line with her eyes, and, when she reached the last couple of photos, noticed a difference.

“Oh,” She gasped softly, automatically reaching for the second-last picture, but stopping herself just in time. She suddenly had to resist the urge to cry.

The difference between the picture and the beginning ones was drastic. The light in Tara’s eyes was gone- they were only tired, filled with a calm defeat, an acceptance. Her mouth, instead of lifted in a natural, easy smile, was pulled down at the corners in what seemed to be a permanent grimace. There was a large, dark splotch on her left cheek, right on her cheekbone.

“Oh, god. Tara...”

“Her father was abusive. To both her and Mom. But mostly to Katie,” Dia said quietly from just behind her, making Willow jump. “After Katie died, I managed to get her away. I can’t even think about what would have happened had I not been able to win her custody.”

Willow shivered. The room suddenly seemed a lot colder. She moved her eyes to the last picture, dreading another frozen portrait of Tara’s suffering, but was pleasantly surprised to see a much younger girl, wrapped in the arms of a woman she didn’t recognize with dark hair the shade of Dia’s, with another smile big enough to beat out the sun. Willow reached forward, and brushed her fingers across the little girl.

“Is that...?”

“Tara? Yes.”

“But...her hair...?”

“Oh, that?” Dia laughed unexpectedly, and Willow turned to look at her. “Tara and I had our hair dyed the exact same shade of red. Her father was furious, but Katie thought it was a big joke. I think...I think that’s when the abuse started.”

Willow gazed at the picture, of the family of three. Tara’s mom, her hair a dark contrast to Dia and Tara’s vivid red, was hugging Tara to her, and laughing. Dia was laughing, too, one arm around Tara’s mom’s shoulders. They looked so happy; Willow couldn’t imagine abuse had destroyed Tara’s home quite then.

Not yet, Tara. Willow reached out and touch Tara’s red hair, half-hoping she would be able to feel it. Wish I could have been there to keep you that happy. I wish I could have been there to save you.

[center]***[/center]

“Okay, I know you said no showing skin off on the first date and everything, but this isn’t a date. It’s just three friends going swimming.”

Tara paused in digging through her drawer, and looked up at the portrait of her, her mother, and Dia, unaware that Willow was looking at the same picture only two floors up. If she concentrated hard enough, she could hear her mother laughing; the imagined sound warmed her heart, brought a smile to her face.

“What do you mean I’m lying? I so am not! Willow would never...no, she’s a good person. A really good person.” Tara pulled out a pair of shorts, and paused, her eyes lingering on the photo. “If you were here...I know you’d love her as much as I do. Okay, maybe not as much, but...”

Tara suddenly had to swallow tears. To distract herself, she stuffed the shorts and her bathing suit into a small bag, then returned to her drawer to search for an oversized t-shirt. After retrieving what she was looking for, she added that to her bag, then sat down on the edge of her bed, and sighed.

“Mom, what should I do? I don’t...I don’t like the way I look. You know that. And I know you always told me that I’m beautiful, but I really think you were just telling me that because that’s what Moms do. And my hands...god, Mom, what about my hands? I can’t let them see my hands. It’ll scare them off...then I’ll...”

Tara felt the words “be alone” die in her throat. Wasn’t she already alone? With a sigh, she peeled off her gloves carefully, avoiding the burned flesh of her hands, and rummaged carefully through her drawer until she found a pair that water wouldn’t ruin. Slipping her hands into them, she flexed her fingers, and studied her concealed hands, tried so hard not to remember.

But the memory slipped back anyways. Snatches of words, swirling in her head, maddening her.

“Dad...please...please don’t do this...”

“Tara, run!”

“Mom! NO!”

“You’re next, you little bitch.”

“...Run...”

“Mom!”

“How could you?!”

“Just as easily as I’m going to do this.”

“Get off me! MOM!”

Please don’t die. I need you.

Shaking her head sharply, Tara ripped herself free from the hell building in her head before it could completely consume her, closed her eyes tight to try and fight back the fever.

Don’t.

The single word whispered through her head, calmed the fever coming over her. It was her mother’s voice that sounded, only her voice that could stop her from completely losing it once more. Inhaling deeply once more, Tara opened her eyes, and focused them on the picture.

“Thanks, Mom.”

Then she shouldered her bag, and headed for the stairs.

[center]***[/center]

“Swimming just held an importance to her, since her Mom and her used to swim every morning. Try to understand that the act of swimming itself, or just seeing the pool, could bring back painful memories. If she starts acting strangely, take her into the house, and call me.”

Willow silently accepted the tiny scrap of paper Dia shoved across the table, folded it, and slipped it into her hip pocket. “Maybe it’s best if she just...”

“No.” Dia shook her head, and sighed deeply. “No. She needs to get out. She needs to move on. Please help her.” She reached across the table, and placed her hand on Willow’s, who jumped slightly. “You’re bleeding.”

“Huh?” Willow looked down at her wrist, covered by her hoodie sleeve, only to see the blue fabric stained with a large patch of red. Panic immediately overtook her, and she automatically clasped a hand to her wrist. “U-um...”

“Old wound. Really stupid. She cut herself on a can lid,” Anya suggested helpfully. “Must have been ripped open or something.”

Dia gazed at them both for a moment, then raised both eyebrows. “It takes a lot to be able to cut your wrist with a can lid. What are the odds?”

Willow bit her lip to keep any guilt from showing at her accusations. “Do you have any Band-Aids?”

“I-in the b-bathroom.” Tara stopped on the last step, hand resting on the railing. “I-is something w-w-wrong? Are you okay, W-Willow?”

“Yeah.” When her back was turned at Dia, Willow grimaced apologetically. “Just that old can lid wound I told you about.”

Tara’s brow furrowed for a moment, then smoothed out. “O-oh. That. Come w-w-with me; I’ll get you s-some Band-Aids.”

Dia watched the three girls hurry into the bathroom suspiciously. As soon as the three of them were safely in, Tara shut and locked the door.

“A can lid? That’s the best you can do?” Willow demanded as soon as the door was closed.

“I don’t think well under pressure!” Anya snapped back. “At least I said something to save your ass!”

Instead of trying to stop their fighting, Tara slipped past Anya to open the bathroom drawer, and pulled out a box of Band-Aids. She handed the box over to Anya, who hitched her chin up at Willow.

“Well?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Willow muttered, slowly unrolling the sleeve of her hoodie back. Tara was careful to keep her eyes fixed on countertop, tracing the different patterns silently with her eyes while Anya ripped open a Band-Aid beside her, and smoothed it carefully onto Willow’s cut.

“You know, if you’d just kept the knives away, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Shut up, Anya,” Willow snarled, stung, but refusing to admit it. “Let’s just get out of here and go swimming.”

Anya was suddenly thoughtful; Tara glanced at her, kept her eyes on her face until Willow pulled her sleeve back down. “You know, if the sex thing doesn’t work out, we could always do some poses by the pool-”

“Seriously, Anya! Get a life already!”

Anya looked away, disgruntled. “It was just a suggestion,” She muttered.

Willow rolled her eyes at her.

[center]***[/center]

Willow’s house was big. The sheer size of it amazed Tara; suddenly her modest little home was embarrassing to her. How dull she must seem to Willow, used to a rich lifestyle full of interesting people. Everywhere Tara looked, she saw sparkling counters and appliances, rich carpet, expensive paintings, more reminders of how different she was from the redhead.

“Yeah, don’t mind the house,” Willow sighed as she let them in. “It’s really embarrassing.”

“I’d give my right arm to live in a place like this. So shut your trap,” Anya retorted.

Tara just looked at them both, wondering how much longer they could argue over such trivial things.

“Oh, um” –Willow blushed suddenly, and Tara blinked at her, confused- “Tara, you can change in that bathroom. Anya, you have to come with me; we have to get you a bathing suit.”

Oh. Tara felt her own blush spread across her cheeks, though she knew there really was nothing to be embarrassed about. Willow paused to smile at her, then pointed down the hall to a sliding glass door.

“The pool’s just out there. You can wait for us if we’re not out, jump in, whatever. We shouldn’t be too long.”

Tara nodded.

“Good.” Willow paused for a moment, looked at her, then nudged Anya. “C’mon, let’s go get you a suit.” She started up the wide flight of stairs behind her.

Anya gave Tara a parting grin and wink, then trailed behind Willow. “No bunnies!”

“No promises.”

Tara waited until they were out of sight until she slipped into the bathroom. She closed the door carefully, then locked it, and, instead of opening her bag, sat down on the toilet, and stared at the wall.

The moment of truth. She had to change now. Tara closed her eyes, and leaned her head back against the wall for a moment.

Mom, is this the right choice? Is it right for me to get close to them again? Aren’t I a danger? I’m a danger to them; I know I am. A danger to both their physical and mental safety. I should just stay away.

From somewhere upstairs, she heard Willow laugh, and then squeal. She could hear Anya saying something to her, but she couldn’t make out the words; her tone suggested threats. A smile spread across her face without her having to force it, and she knew then that there was no leaving.

With a groan, she opened her bag, and pulled out her swim suit. She dressed quickly, pulling out the two piece bathing suit, and then her shorts and oversized t-shirt with it. The shorts went below her knees, and the t-shirt hung loosely on her, big enough that she was comfortable, but not so big she was drowning in it.

Tara stuffed her clothes into the bag, then unlocked the door, and cracked it open cautiously. The hall was empty. Wrapping herself in her towel, and slinging her bag over her shoulder, she made her way down the hall quickly to the glass door, which was already open. When she got closer, she heard voices- Willow and Anya- laughing and the splash of water.

She stepped outside into the sunlight, squinting against its bright ways, then slid the door closed behind her. A quick glance confirmed two things for her. One: Anya and Willow were already changed and in the pool, splashing each other. Two: Anya was right; Willow did have a big-ass pool.

When Willow heard the door squeak, she whirled, and, seeing Tara, starting waving her arms energetically, sending a mini tidal wave over Anya.

“Tara! Come on in! The water’s great!”

Tara clutched her towel closer to her, and studied the pool. It seemed harmless; Willow, sloshing her way over the edge, was sending ripples through the clear water. Rays of sun reflected off the surface, nearly blinding her. It might have been her imagination, but it had gotten hotter while she had been changing.

Willow gripped the edge, then pulled herself up, resting her weight on her elbow, deciding not to comment on the fact that Tara was still wearing her gloves. “What are you waiting for? Jump in!”

Tara dropped her bag against one of the lawn chairs near the edge, then carefully made her way over. She dipped one toe in, and nearly sighed aloud. The water was perfect, cool enough to stave off the sudden waves of heat, but not bone-achingly freezing.

Anya splashed her way over to stand next to them. Bouncing on her toes, she placed one palm flat on Willow’s head, and, with ease, shoved the smaller girl under the surface. “You comin’ in, Tara?”

Willow resurfaced spluttering and cursing. Tara couldn’t help but laugh at her, strings of red hair plastered to her cheeks and neck, looking distinctively like a drowned cat. When she heard Tara laughing, she spun on her heel, and mock-glowered.

“Oh, you think it’s funny? Get in here, and I’ll show you just how funny it is.”

“Yeah, hurry up, Tara, before you melt like that witch on Wizard of Oz. Which I guess wouldn’t happen because it was water that made her melt, so, technically, if you got in the pool and you were like her, you would melt, but really, it’s just about the heat, so-”

“Anya!”

Anya shrugged, unruffled by Willow’s sharp rebuke. “Sorry, Wil, but I just never got that movie. All those little men running around, and a man made of metal wanting a heart. It just didn’t make sense.”

“You don’t make sense.”

“Oh, please stop. You’re just killing me with your pathetic insults.”

Willow glared at her, then turned back to Tara, watching uncertainly from the edge. “C’mon, Tara. If you’re worried about looking stupid, don’t, because you could never look stupid. Oh, Anya, kill me now!” Willow covered her face with her hands when she realized she’d actually spoken the words she hadn’t meant to verbalize.

“With pleasure.” Acting quickly before Willow could protest, Anya dunked her under again, and held her down. “But, really, Tara, as the Queen of Looking Stupid, she’s right. You couldn’t ever look stupid. I’m sure you look sexy in that bathing suit.”

Tara cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows pulling together.

Anya rolled her eyes. “Saying it because Wil won’t, and I know she’s thinking it.” Finally, she let the struggling redhead up for air. “Just get in, Tara, or I’ll pull you in.”

Tara looked down at herself. Then, slowly, she slid the towel back from her shoulders, and placed it with her bag, trying to ignore the fear trying to crawl across her skin and fighting back the instinct to snatch her towel back up and cover herself.

Anya took one look at her, and whistled. “Damn, Tara, Willow was thinking right.”

“What was I thinking right about?” Having recovered from her brief moment of oxygen deprivation, Willow looked up, confused.

Tara blushed to the roots of her hair, but smiled at them both. “Th-thank-you.”

“Alrighty. Let’s see your best dive.” Anya swam back a bit, dragging Willow with her, to give Tara some room. “Go on.”

Tara looked at her, unsure. “M-my best dive?”

“Yup. Sometime today would be nice.”

“Anya.”

“Just speaking my mind, Wil. It’s what I do.”

Tara backed up a bit, and sucked in a deep breath. She was already planning, mapping out the length she would need to run, how far she would go. She had been practicing the same dive since she had been seven, and she prayed all that practice would pay off at that moment. She took a few steps back, judged her distance, hesitated, then started running.

It came back naturally to her. The four month absence of swimming had done nothing to hinder her ability. Automatically, her body corrected her, changed her awkward jog into a long-strided run that carried her easily to the edge. When her feet hit the ledge, she pushed hard, and launched herself into a front-flip.

Willow and Anya watched, open-mouthed, as Tara sailed forward in a graceful arc, disappearing beneath the surface of the pool.

“Whoa.”

“That was amazing,” Willow whispered.

“Talk about powerful.” Anya slung an arm around Willow’s neck. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Wil.”

Willow groaned in disgust, and shrugged her off, swimming towards the general area where Tara had gone under.

Anya watched her go, bewildered. "What'd I say? Wil? What'd I say?"

_________________
|Saving Grace| |The Cross||Never Let You Go| |Keeping Destiny|

Yay for great update-y goodness... Big yay for Tara comming to swim in Willow's big-ass-pool... I hope Willow & Tara have some alone talking time without Anya interrupting...

_________________
We few, we happy few. We band of buggered.

Posting While Nude Improves Your Mood.

Actually it is not that hard to cut your wrist on a can lid. When I was camping, when I was about ten, my dad forgot to pack plates. So for three weeks we were heating things up in the cans they came in over the fire. We also ate out of the cans, but my dad never took the lid completely off because he thought it would make it cook faster. One night I caught a bit of my wrist on the side and let's just say I had a nice little trip to the hospital for stitches. Now I have this long thin scar up my wrist. So cutting yourself on a can lid, while camping at least, is not a terrible excuse. Anyway as always this was a great update can't wait to see what happens next.

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"When you run with the Doctor, it feels like it'll never end. But however hard you try you can't run forever. Everybody knows that everybody dies and nobody knows it like the Doctor. But I do think that all the skies of all the worlds might just turn dark if he ever for one moment, accepts it. Everybody knows that everybody dies. But not every day. Not today. Some days are special. Some days are so, so blessed. Some days, nobody dies at all. Now and then, every once in a very long while, every day in a million days, when the wind stands fair, and the Doctor comes to call... everybody lives." River Song - "Forest of the Dead"

haha love anya
i'm glad that tara is getting out
can't wait for more

Ash