Disclaimer: Many rich people own BTVS and its characters...I am not one of them.

Summary: What happens when you lose yourself? (Altered timeline starting near the end of 'The Gift').

Rating: R

Feedback: Feel free to drop a line here. No posting this story elsewhere without my consent.

[hr]

Part 1: Wiping the Slate Clean

The first three days I said not one word in the limited time I was awake. I blinked occasionally and I ate when the blonde spoon-fed me bland hospital offerings. A brunette helped with dinners. She was younger than the other visitors and she cried. She was the only one who cried in my presence. The rest of them left, I suppose, when the mood struck them and returned with red rimmed eyes. All except one of them. She never cried, my private spoonfeeding nurse. She was a rock. My rock? I had my first recalled memory about her...something about shrimp. She was allergic to shrimp...that’s it. Oh, I forgot to mention...I lost my memory six days ago.



SIX DAYS AGO

Willow watched Spike fall from the scaffolding with a thud and then saw Buffy remove the threat and release Dawn. The ritual had started...the dimensions were beginning to overlap. The redhead squeezed Tara’s uninjured hand and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Then she teleported up to the Summers’ sisters. It was a good thing she’d been tweaking that spell for pinpoint accuracy. Of course the bad thing was that it now gave her intense gushing nosebleeds.

“Stop Buffy...her blood has stopped flowing over the portal...I can reverse this.”

She put her hands over the magickal eruption and felt its boiling energy. She gave it form, concentrating until a long corridor of slowly opening doors appeared. The witch projected herself into the created form and began shifting from door to door, shutting them firmly. The hallway began to shrink as each doorway to a different dimension was sealed...but her power was draining fast. She put more effort into moving faster until finally there was only one door left...the one back to her own Sunnydale. An eternity seemed to expire before she backed through it and shut the passage.

On closure, her essence smashed back into her slender body and she whimpered. The anomaly collapsed in on itself and flung her onto the roof of a nearby building. On impact it was lights out, good day, and happy days are here again for the rest of the world.



On the tenth morning since my accident, I tried to say ‘salutations’ to the doctor as he came in for his early rounds. It sounded more like ‘solutions’, which in retrospect, was way too long a word to try out first because of the whole inactive vocal cord thing. My rock was sleeping in an armchair with her cheek pressed against an open space on the bed. She jumped at my voice and reached for my hand. I did a long blink...the kind where you squeeze your eyes real tight and then open them fast. “Hi,” I said hazily. ‘Hi’ was a much shorter and, therefore, a much more suitable word for my status. Maybe I’ll only speak in two letter words for the rest of the day.

“Sweetie?” the blonde asked softly, like a light plea. I let my bleary eyes pass over her and attempted to make contact with her own. Her eyes were blue...captivating and warm. I tried to smile but it felt like somebody had rang all my teeth...like those little dinner bell triangles in westerns. I settled on an unfocused half-smile. It was enough…she positively beamed.

“Ms. Rosenberg, how are you feeling today?” an overenthusiastic nurse asked. She must have entered the room when I adverted my eyes away from the door. I assume that to be me. My name that is.

I answered with a plaintive, “Ugh.” Most people would have equated that as the international noise for ‘In pain...please give undocumented amounts of morphine goodness and leave quietly.’ She believed it was a precursor to higher conversation. She began to fuss with the gadgets and bags around me, blabbering about something or the other...I tuned her out and went back to sleep.



“Will?” the blonde called out as she arrived on the afternoon of my thirteenth day. The shorter blonde, not my rock. I wish they would wear nametags. Except I don’t want to wish...something about wishes are bad. I’ll have to file that partial memory in the ‘what the hell’ stack. There really weren’t enough memories in any location to actually form stacks. And certainly no reason to have a filey-folder system for said nonexistent stacks.

“Are you sure she spoke the other day?” the brunette girl asked. “Because she still looks a little out of it to me.”

“I did,” I slurred unassuredly. Six wide eyeballs darted at my mouth. I wondered briefly if I was drooling. Will...the root for Willow. Willow Rosenberg. I slapped that in the ‘woohoo’ bin.

“Willow...” the melodic voice of my rock lilted soothingly. As she interweaved our hands, I realized she had a cast on her other one. They also all seemed to be waiting for a response.

“Broken rock?” I obligingly asked, gesturing stiffly towards the cast. Their faces were a mixture of curiosity, confusion, and fear. Clearly that was not helpful. I tried again. “Please sign your name in the registry.” Crap...I better go back to sleep.



“Giles tell me something,” Buffy demanded as she walked through the door of the Magic Box. Her slayer nerves were twitchy...this was the kind of problem she wanted solved now. Not to mention she felt guilty. Her best friend, her big gun, really did come through in the end. But this was all wrong...if anybody deserved to be in a hospital bed it was the slayer. I mean saving the world was a slayer’s destiny. Why did she push the weight of the world on the little shoulders of the redhead?

The watcher blew a quiet breath of air out his nose. The Scoobies, all save Tara, were gathered around the table pouring through insurmountable stacks of literature. His continued silence was enough of a bad news indicator. “I have been unable to determine what sort of spell she used to close the portal. I have found no similar instances in any of the books in my collection. I’m sending for several rare chronicles from the council on dimensional phenomena and they should arrive in a few days.”

“She’s being released tomorrow...into our care,” the slayer interrupted and reported the news in a level tone. “I couldn’t find her parents so they released her on Tara’s power of attorney.” A flash of anger sparked at the unavailability and inattentiveness of Will’s mother and father.

“But, she’s not well,” Dawn said worriedly. “She should stay until she’s better.” The teenager nearly insisted.

“They’ve done all they can, Dawnster.” Xander placed a hand lightly on her forearm.

“Meager human doctors can’t repair the magickally backlashed remains of Willow’s brain,” Anya candidly agreed. Dawn scowled at her before placing her head in her hands.

“Ahn,” Xander started tinged with irritation and she winced slightly. He knew she was truly concerned and his face softened in regret. “Let’s go get dinner for everyone.” They left solemnly and were barely noticed by the remainder of the group.

“What do you need?” Giles asked with concern.


“Can you watch Dawn tonight? I’m dragging Tara out of the hospital and moving their stuff from the dorms to,” she paused hard. “To my mom’s room. They’re releasing her at eight a.m. Can you give us a lift?”

Certainly,” he replied, removing his glasses and wiping them thoroughly. “I’m calling a coven in England tonight and asking for some guidance.” He returned his glasses to his face. “Don’t give up hope, Buffy. She’s a strong young woman and we will continue searching until we have some answers.”

Buffy wrapped her arms around the older man, holding back her tears. She wasn’t going to quit. She was going to find a way to get her Willow back if she had to go to every damn dimension to do it.




They wheeled me to the front entrance in a very unnecessary chair. My legs were working just fine, after all. My bruised ribs were healing nicely the doctor had said. Nicely shouldn’t hurt so much. My rock, I mean Tara, was a weary wreck. I did finally learn their names. Right after I told them I had no clue who they were. Threw them for quite a loop, I guess.

Things weren’t really that much clearer in the fog factory that was my squishy, squishy brain. I did slowly realize, however, that I knew a lot of things. Like an informational manual. Computers-how to identify components, how to debug code, how to hack into the DMV...I began wondering how illicit my use of that last skill had been. Books...I had read a ton of them I was sure. For some reason it seemed I had read Call of the Wild about ten times. I don't even think it was my favorite book or anything. I was pretty sure I could solve math, physics, and chemistry problems in the blink of an eye. Yeah, I was pretty smart. It was all the little things that kept tripping me up.

Like what’s my favorite color? Food? Shirt? What do I do for a living? Any hobbies? How long have I known my friends? Is the blonde really my girlfriend? Just the little, really important details.

“Sharp wheels,” I said as casually as my jumping nerves would allow. Tara, Buffy, and Giles shared a look that I couldn’t put my finger on. Buffy helped me out of the wheelchair, picking me up effortlessly, and placing me into the back seat next to Tara. She is really strong for someone nearly as small as I am.

We drove in silence. I gave a sidelong glance to the blonde next to me. She really was beautiful...in a subtle, effortless sort of way. I guess I have good taste. She had been trying with a quiet resolve, since she found out about my lack of memory, to give me breathing room. That didn’t stop her from showing that she cared…she still spent nearly all day in the room, it just seemed she considered her actions before going through with them. Still, after seventeen days, the only reason I only knew she was my girl was because Anya had so straightforwardly asked how I could forget Tara after she gave me so many orgasms.

We turned the corner at Revello Drive and pulled into 1630. I thought it might be my house until I saw the colorful mailbox with ‘Summers’ written on it. The room they put me in was full of unpacked boxes. “I don’t live here?”

“No, we thought it would be easier for you here with all of us around,” Buffy replied kindheartedly.

“Where do I live then?”

“You were living on campus at UC-Sunnydale. Your parents live two blocks away. With all that was going on we didn’t know your plans for summer housing.” It sounded vague the way she said it…and she wouldn’t look me in the eye after she spoke.

“Oh...” I hung the little noise longer than necessary. So I’m a student...makes sense. I was unsure of what to say about anything whirling around me. Buffy seemed to understand...she left me just after a brief, awkward hug.

I skimmed over the boxes labeled with my name, carefully avoiding the ones marked with Tara’s. I found several boxes of books (some textbooks, some novels), a box of toiletries, a laptop, and one chest of cute little knickknacks like candles, incense, and crystals. Lots of whimsical stuffed animals and cartoon characters printed on bright T-shirts. I pulled out the laptop and powered it up...only to find out I needed a password to start the operating system. I set the machine aside and looked for something that could jump-start my noggin. Just as I found a composition notebook labeled journal and a photo album, Dawn called up the stairs and invited me down for dinner.

Dinner made me feel queasy - both the eating and the atmosphere. All of the friendly researchers watched me from the corners of their respective eyes. As if they were looking for familiar mannerisms or waiting for me to have some eureka moment. It made for a quiet room. I ate little and excused myself like an annoyed preteen having dinner with her parents.

The journal was nearly empty. The first and only entry expressed my sorrow over the death of Buffy’s mom. Then it strangely talked about breakfast foods. I stared at the last line on the page and snickered. Tara...I want to remember my every last everything with you...Love, Willow.

I threw the book at the wall just as Tara opened the door to the room. I covered my ribs as inauspiciously as possible...that majorly hurt. “Come in,” I chirped, fake mirth abundant in my voice. She raised an eyebrow and looked at the notebook crumpled on the floor.

“Need anything?” she questioned softly. I shook my head, watching how she eyed the floor intently. Something was on her mind.

“So what is it that has you in knots?” I folded my legs under my body on the bed and tried to look comfortable and relaxed. Her nervousness was rubbing off on me.

She stared at my eyes for a moment...searching the windows to my soul or some such poetic license. I wondered if my eyes gave me away to everyone. Or maybe it was just her. I kinda hoped it was the latter...did we have that deep of a connection? “I just need to get my pajamas and I’ll b-be out of your way.”

She only stutters with me when she nervous. That thought broke through in high definition clarity. Of course I’d already clued in that she was antsy but...PJ’s...sleeping...she’s sleeping somewhere else?

“So we didn’t live together?” I asked on a hunch. She turned and flashed a half smile. My heart thumped merrily.

“Well...we had separate dorm rooms but we usually...” She smirked and gestured her hands in a ‘and so on’ fashion. Double thump. “There was this whole system of which room to stay in when...and charts and schedules.”

“Sounds very ordered,” I replied. “But we don’t sleep together anymore?” I used a sad little puppy dog voice I didn’t know I had.

She cocked her head in a way that suggested she knew that tone too. “I thought you would want a little space...to sort things out.” She went into the master bathroom and came back out in a tank top and long pajama bottoms. “Unless you want me to, you know...” she hesitated and then whispered the last part, “stay.”

I could sense an intense vulnerability and need in that one almost inaudible word. She was certainly shaken up over my condition and, maybe, over other life matters long lost to me. And she was looking for comfort...safety. Hell, so was I. “Stay,” I responded, patting the empty side of the bed. A ghost of the gentlest smile I had ever seen in my life graced her jawline. Thump, Thump, Thump...my head may have forgotten her but my heart sure hadn’t.

[hr]

aww, poor Willow.



I love this fic already.



Heh, Willow'smind still ordered what with her what the hell and woo hoo piles

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There can be no rainbow without rain, you cannot know true happiness until you know sadness first.

Nicely set-up and established. I'm looking forward to the continuation of this storyline.



Cheers!

DW

"Promise me you'll never be linear." "On my trout." Support The Arts! TLC Fundraiser Forum

Hi, I greatly enjoyed. Good solid writing too. I hope you continue



bijoux

awww hermitfish! I'm always drawn right into your little tales.

*Gigantic candlestick slips from my hand* I love this one too....



Can't wait for more





xoxo

Emms

I can wax philisophically on a variety of different subjects...that doesn't,however, mean that I have anything constructive to add to the conversation.

--- Me

I know. I know this doesn't quite express what I felt or thought after reading this set up and beginning but all that comes to mind at the moment is a big WOW. That was brilliant. Just ... WOW.



Claudia

I think I'm really going to enjoy this story. If I'm not mistaken, Tara just recently got her own mind back in order. Willow was taking care of her. The turn about will be interesting. I have faith in their LOVE.





terra

"You two are the two who are the two. I'm the other one." - Willow

This is an amazing start..I loved it. Love sam xx

"Sometimes things happen between people that you don't really expect. And sometimes the things that are important are the ones that seem the weirdest or the most wrong. And those are the ones that change your life." - Jessie Sammler (Evan Rachel Wood)

This is off to a wonderful start, Cyd. I like that you threw out the "Buffy has to die to close the portal" silliness and came up with this much more intriguing idea. So Tara gets her sanity back just in time to watch Willow go amnesia-girl! Hooray! Drama central! Can't wait to see the twists and turns you concoct in this one.



As for posting another fic while two are going, no worries. You are an excellent storyteller, my friend, and as long as you're posting SOMETHING, I'll be reading.



-Cam *happily curling up at Cyd's feet to wait for next installment*

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What should I be but just what I am? - Edna St.Vincent Millay

Fabulous start. I like how Willow still retains her natural sense of order and booksmarts. And I also like how you didn't make W/T all connected and soulbound immediately.



Willow came across as a little, I don't know exactly, cold? not the right word, hmm, neutral, matter-of-fact, even clinical in her assessment and handling of her situation. She speaks her mind more, the Willowesque insecurities haven't surfaced yet. She doesn't have the memories and emotional ties to these strangers, but she's obviously worked out that they are family and they care for her. Loved it that she's figured Tara is her rock, from the beginning. Very intrigued to see whether you bring her memories back or just some of them or let a new set develop.



And Tara, oh boy, she must be so physically and emotionally drained. And how her sensitivities came shining through. Not wanting to push Willow, despite everything they had been through.

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quiet thoughts

Opening replies...



robotguru: Heh, yeah still trying to be ordered in the confusion. Glad you like the start.



DarkWiccan: Thanks for stopping by...I really love the quality of your fics and your comments are appreciated.



Disastered: I'm glad you like the little added touches. Memory, memory loss, and related topics are really fascinating to me. I have to admit this story swims a little near my own dealings with a couple of major concussions. Although nothing as severe as Willow's predicament, it was still quite a strange and ouchy and intriguing experience.



bijoux2: I enjoy your support and kind words. Thanks.



MissKittys Ball O Yarn: Gee, Emms...what a surprise to find you with a candlestick...that was my sarcastic voice in case you can't tell. I know, however, that you won't be making me into a little chalk outline on the oriental rug because you said you love this one too and you're way too nice for that...aren't you?







Okay, I'm gonna duck and cover for now, just in case. I would go hide in the closet but I think it's a little late for that.



Claudia M Gregory: Aww...you're way too kind. I got a WOW... Thanks.



terra21: Yes, very perceptive of you. Tara did just get her own mind back and that is something I will be getting into. And certainly count on the power of the W/T love to see them through.



sam darls: Thank you for feeding the praise glutton...'tis very sweet.



tarawhipped:

Quote:

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Hooray! Drama central!

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Wherever did you get that idea? I thought it would be a lighthearted romantic musical comedy...but now that I think about it drama is a much better idea.

Quote:

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As for posting another fic while two are going, no worries. You are an excellent storyteller, my friend, and as long as you're posting SOMETHING, I'll be reading.

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Aww, Cameron, you're such a sweetie and I'm all for ya' being curled up around my tootsies...especially when it's in the single digit temperatures.



hidden watson: Hmmm...interesting comments and analysis...thank you. I think with the condition Willow's in and, as you said, having maintained some level of her ordered nature, she is eager to analyze everything around her and is maybe not thinking about how she feels towards any of it.

Quote:

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She speaks her mind more, the Willowesque insecurities haven't surfaced yet.

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Yes, glad you noticed. The lack of insecurities is something that I will play around with more.



And Tara, her beloved rock. I actually feel worse for her...she has gone through this very traumatic experience of her own only to wake up to another one. Yet she has the grace to be strong for Willow and not rush her, scare her, etc. Quite a feat.







I haven't been able to play much with part 2 yet though I know some changes are needed. Tinker mode on this is sitting in the queue behind a few things at the moment, but I am eager to work on it due to the good response. So, the continuation will continue when it continues...there, now that's nice, vague, and repetitive.



Gratefully content,



~Cyd

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All you need to start an asylum is an empty room and the right kind of people.

~Eugene Pallette in My Man Godfrey (1936)



Altered Shadows

Okay, i've neglected leaving you feedback, but theres only so long a girl can wait for write feedback, i mean. I really really like this. As has said before I really like how she knows Tara's her rock. She knew it ever before she got to know that they were together. its really so sweet.



i think i'm gonna go check on your other fics until you post... oh if you ahven't gotten this i really love this fic!!!!! Oh, can we get a miss kitty? not that she usually has a part in stories, but shes just so darn cute!!





Hasta chica

-Kristen

Love this new fic and what a new idea amnesia for willow (i'm not sure if its new or not but to me it is ) anyway can't wait to see more and how sweet willow referring to tara as her rock and already so intuned with her she can tell her moods and some of her needs



Please update soon



Silent

It's like I can't breathe, It's like I can't see anything, Nothing but you, I'm addicted to you



- Kelly Clarkson "Addicted"

Hello Kittens-



This is a very interesting take on memory and wonderfully dovetailed into canon. I'm another one who is waiting eagerly for more about Willow and her 'rock'. I'm reminded of good old-fashioned detective stories with your style.



I liked that Willow's heart seems to remember to beat faster with Tara near!





Jixer

Hey a few more replies...



ShyTemptress: With me, there is no such thing as late feedback. I ALWAYS appreicate it. Hmmm...I had no thought of Miss Kitty, but I'm getting an idea and I think I like the little interesting detail it is. If I put her in somewhere, I'll be sure to credit you.



silentinformer: Thanks for the nice words. Willow does sense a connection there, right from the start...even if she doesn't understand/recognize it yet.



jixer: Hey...another author I respect just turned up...thanks for stopping by. I'm glad you like the way things are shaping up so far and this...

Quote:

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I'm reminded of good old-fashioned detective stories with your style.

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I love Chandler, Hammett, etc. and I thought it had that sort of slant as well when I started working on it. So, believe me when I say I take that as a very nice compliment.







Update is next...you can thank the snow and my crappy car (who needs groceries anyway?) that's trapping me in for the quick turn around.



~Cyd

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All you need to start an asylum is an empty room and the right kind of people.

~Eugene Pallette in My Man Godfrey (1936)



Altered Shadows

Part 2: These Friends of Mine





Tara woke up with a cold shudder of horror. She lifted her head over Willow’s slumbering body to peer at the clock.



Two hours.



She had slept two hours this time.



Her hand was throbbing. The doctors had been forced to perform another surgery that night the Scoobies saved the world. They realigned the pins and screws and returned her injury to a cast. As soon as she had been cognizant the next morning, she signed herself out and went to Willow.



She had refused to take her prescribed pain pills. They made her sleepy and she had to stay awake. To wait for her.



Because she was asleep and wouldn’t wake up.



Not even when Tara whispered in her ear and asked her to.



When she did finally wake on the fourth day, it was only for a few minutes. Her breathing had been shallow and her eyes dim. She had fluttered so quickly back to sleep.



Still Tara stayed awake.



She wanted to be there for those random flashes when Willow would come around for a few precious minutes. To feel the warmth of her hand. To give her spoonfuls of a mushy meal. To hear her speak again.







“I really want to remember who you are, but I can’t. Remember that is.”







And all Tara could think at that moment was how could she not know Willow and still sound so much like her?



The blonde sat up and reached for the bottle of pills that sat on her side table. Willow’s sat on the bureau, organized by what time of day she had to take them. The morning pills were on the right (“Well that’s east…like the Sun.”), the lunch pills in the middle, and the dinner and night pills on the left.







“I could organize them by the color spectrum, but then I might forget to take one.”



“No, you wouldn’t. You’d never forget that.”







There had been an uncomfortable silence when Tara said that. Willow had given her a sad little curve of her lips and went back to unpacking a box on the floor.



Tara looked over at the redhead who was still fast asleep. She was doing better. Not quite as dazed or weak. She could get up without dizziness, focusing more readily. She was concentrating so hard to try to remember things. She must have studied every piece of property she owned for hours the last few days.



Tara didn’t have the heart to tell her she acts more like herself when she’s not trying at all.



The blonde breathed deeply of the air wafting through the window. It smelled delightful, the scent of freshly fallen rain.



As much as she tried to relax and enjoy it, the scent did not calm her.



She looked at the white pill in her hand but froze before she could place it in her mouth.



The pill would make her sleepy…but that was okay now…Willow was doing better.



Except there was someone waiting for her to sleep. The very thing that had once taken her sanity away. It waited for her in the dark…in the cold…waited to come and take her again.



She put the pill back in the bottle.



Tara stayed awake once more.



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There was an anxiety among the group as they sat around the Magic Box.



“We should keep the slayer, magicky, Hellmouthy stuff away from Willow right now as she’s had such a way too much of a trauma to need add that to it.”



Buffy’s suggestion was being weighed but not liked by anyone.



“I don’t know if you noticed but our life kinda revolves around this stuff,” Xander said as he motioned at the objects sitting on the shelves.



“And secrets always work so well around here,” Anya muttered quietly as she counted the tally for the day and put the money into neat piles.



“That’s the soddin’ truth,” Spike added.



“Look, you’re here to help us…otherwise I’ll throw you out on the sidewalk and sweep what’s left into the gutter.”



“Yeah, yeah…slayer’s gonna kill the big bad,” the peroxide vamp mocked as he picked up a book and continued scanning.



Tara didn’t believe that they could try to draw a line so easily between the two. Buffy and the slayer. Tara and the witch. There was no one without the other…it just wasn’t possible. “I won’t lie to her,” she whispered.



“I don’t believe that will be necessary,” Giles added as he looked up from a book.



“How would I ever have a conversation that something creature of the nightish wouldn’t slip out?” Xander questioned.



“You’ll manage,” Buffy responded. Xander looked less convinced. “Besides we’re well on our way to finding out how to give those memories back to her, right?”



“Based on your account with her fight with Glory, the damaged dark magick book and missing ingredients I found upstairs, her notes of the essence tracing spell she performed, and what we witnessed at the portal site, I am left with more questions than answers. I underestimated her power greatly,” the gentleman admitted before facing Tara and placing his hand on hers upon the table. “And the resolve she has towards seeing you safe.”



Tara eyes were kind at the comment but her heart and conscience were filled with guilt.



“Still I am left to wonder how she performed all three spells. The essence separation, the teleportation to the rafters, and whatever she did to close the portal. Any one of those spells is not only extremely difficult but dangerous. The council’s books were useless but I’m contacting a coven in Bath to help me navigate the power dispersal. Perhaps we will resolve these questions soon. But for now, perhaps your suggestion of silence is best until we have answers.”



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Dawn hung on my every word when we had conversations. It didn’t matter if I was relating a story I heard on the news or the ingredients on the back of a cereal box. She was full attention span girl.



She was on summer break from school, preparing to enter high school in the fall. She was quite smart and certainly nice enough, though it seems like she didn’t have too many friends her own age as I hadn’t seen any over during the day or dropping by for a sleepover at night. That was too bad for them. I liked her well enough.



We played chess and made funny, mostly inedible lunches, and watched cartoon marathons on TV. We broached the giant elephant of my memories occasionally, but she seemed scared that it would make me sad if I couldn’t remember whatever the topic we were discussing. It was okay…I was learning things despite the avoidance.



Her mother’s illness and death really broke her into pieces. Buffy was clearly her idol but, as idols often are, was nearly unreachable since she worked long night hours in security. I didn’t blame Buffy necessarily. I’m sure dropping out of college to suddenly support your sister after their mother’s death was quite difficult. It just made me wonder who was around to take care of this girl if Tara and I had lived on campus before all this mess. She was far too young to be as sad and alone as she seemed.



She adored Tara. But it seemed everyone did. I could understand. She certainly had a very gentle personality and a rather soft spoken, introspective nature about her. It seemed to quiet down the noise in my head. We spoke frequently but we also had the ability to sit in the same room and be still without feeling the rush to fill the space with words. It was comforting.



The same could not be said of Xander. I could hardly make eye contact before he got fidgety. He seemed a nervous sort of fellow. We were often timed in such a way that he was leaving the room as I was coming in and so on.



From what I gathered he was a construction worker and he lived with his girlfriend Anya who worked at the shop Giles owned.



Giles usually came around once a day, if only for a brief visit. He was a Brit if ever a Brit there was…he made tea with strange herbs and we talked of London, philosophy, and poetry. He was extremely well learned, a former librarian at the high school I attended. We drove by it once. The place was burned out, an empty husk of a property. They said it happened on our graduation. That must have been one hell of a ceremony. I digress. His presence screamed father figure in relation to the rest of the group. With the exception of Joyce, no one talked about their family, so I deduced there were reasons.



I still hadn’t heard from my parents. It stung but what was I supposed to do about it? The contact numbers I found on my laptop were duds (Tara provided the password – taratongue – and blushed even as she said it). It wasn’t an embarrassed blush though and my heart took off without me again.



I found an e-mail that was dated a week before the accident. Mother was in Africa researching, in an irony of ironies kind of way, the sociology of tribal parenting. My father was in Washington state working on compiling a seminar he did in physics into a book. Very impressive I’m sure, but I just couldn’t strum up the proudness I should feel at their successes. Plus, this didn’t feel like the first time they had left for extended periods of time and been unreachable. It seemed a serious head wound didn’t bring them home to care for me either. That too, didn’t feel like something new.



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“What makes a person? Is it their actions...their thoughts? Needs? Desires? Or is it the people around them that mold the clay that would otherwise be unformed? And if it is friends and family that sculpt a person then wouldn’t all of their actions, thoughts, needs, and desires take those people into account…”



“No, because humans are selfish creatures...not an altruistic species. Now we better get you back to Buffy’s before Tara gets back from her make-up exams.” Anya didn’t wait for me to stand...she walked towards the exit of the burger joint. I followed in a rush and met her stride outside. It was a mild late afternoon and the setting sun was peaceful.



I liked Anya almost immediately - she spoke her mind and didn’t feel the need to be self conscious about it. She didn’t fuss or worry over me but I could tell she cared in some sort of abstract sense. Though, she did have the oddest perspectives.



“So are you getting ‘get well soon’ orgasms from Tara?” she questioned casually. “Because this one time I separated my shoulder and Xander was very attentive in relieving me.”



“No, no...we’re not...ya know,” I faltered, unable to give an opinion on that idea. I changed topic. “So how long have you and Xander been a couple?”



“We met in high school when I,” she paused thoughtfully. “When I moved here senior year. I left near graduation but came back some months later and found out how much I like his penis.”



I had to laugh...and it felt good, to laugh, and not think or be frustrated or angry. This was one of the few times I felt good enough to go out since I left the hospital and I wasn’t ready to go back yet. “Would you like to get a drink?” I fumbled through my cargo pants and found a twenty. “First few rounds are on me.”



“Is this a seduction? Willow you’re very pretty but Xander would really be hurt. Tara would too.” She said this seriously without a trace of a joke or sarcasm. I laughed again.



“No, this is two friends having a fun night out...you know, to make up for all the blech-y ones lately.” She turned and looked at my face, as if regarding me for the first time.



“Sure, lets go consume alcoholic beverages until we incapacitate our mental facilities.”



------------------------------------





“So where the hell would she take her, Xander?” Buffy growled just as Tara opened the door. A quick process of that statement wiped away the good mood she felt from passing all her makeup exams and finishing the semester. “W-where’s Willow?”



“She wanted to go out to eat and I had to finish a job so Anya offered to take her,” Xander pleaded his case. “I thought it was a quick trip to Burgerville and back.”



“Willow’s missing?” Tara asked and received a conformational nod from Dawn. She quickly sat cross-legged in front of the sofa and called upon Aradia to aid her with a tinkerbell to find her lover.



The little blue light flickered into existence and floated towards the door. “Stay here just in case,” Buffy directed to Xander and Dawn. Tara opened the door to find Willow and Anya walking up the stairs. Well, walking wasn’t the right word...teetering. Tara aided Willow on one side while Buffy practically carried in Anya due to sheer irritation. The blonde Wiccan had forgotten to call off her spell in the excitement and the blue dot of light continued to float and circle around the redhead.



“Bugs shure are big,” Willow slurred as she slapped at the tinkerbell, hitting herself in the forehead and nearly tipping over backwards. Tara concluded the spell and clutched at the redhead’s waist to give her firmer support. “Baby you’re strong,” was her giddy reply.



“Xander!” Anya chirped as Buffy brought her in the door after her two friends. The former vengeance demon ran towards him and gave an exuberant hug. “Oof,” was the only noise he was able to make as the wind got knocked out of him.



“Well, I’ve gotta finish pa...you know that thing I do at night. Wait that sounded way dirtier than I meant.” She pointed at her sister and said, “Dawn - go to bed soon.” They traded eye rolls and she went out into the night.



“We better go too...I should get this little boozehound home,” Xander said flippantly. He began to half-walk, half-drag Anya to the door when Willow slid out of Tara’s arms and blocked their path.



“I had a blast, uh, and congratshulations beautiful bride.” Willow stepped forward and planted a long, deep kiss onto the ex-demon’s lips. Xander’s jaw dropped comically, like a cash register effect on a cartoon.



“You’re engaged?” Tara asked with visible surprise, which covered the slightly unexpected spike of jealousy. Dawn squealed and gave the carpenter a hug.



“We were waiting for the right time to tell everyone, like maybe when...” he motioned towards Willow and Tara confirmed her understanding with a nod.



“Hey big boy...don’t get jealous on me,” the redhead responded out of the blue. She abruptly moved in front of him and planted a peck on his cheek.



“We better leave...now!” Xander eeped. Slightly naughty images of his best friend and his fiancée were starting to flutter in his head.



Tara was glad to see them go...she didn’t need to find out how many bases Willow wanted to round with people other than herself. She had never seen Willow this drunk before. Her girlfriend didn’t abstain from alcohol but she certainly didn’t like to chug so much that she lost total control. Plus there was this one time she remembered hearing about where Willow got drunk, went hyper, and spent the rest of the night paying penance to a wastebasket.



Willow strutted back over to Tara, wrapped her arms around her waist, and then moved them down to her rear for a firm massage. The blonde held back a moan, barely. Further response to the redhead’s actions was instantly cooled when she heard Dawn uncomfortably mumble and head up to her room. Tara pulled away from assertive hands, knowing that she couldn’t take advantage of her girlfriend in this state. “Up to bed, Will.”



The former witch gave a limp salute and eagerly headed towards the bedroom. She stripped off her clothes and fell to the bed, passing into dreamland almost instantly. Tara came up a few minutes after and did finally moan in frustration at the sight of her gorgeous love lying sprawled on her belly and totally naked. She unfurled the covers and draped them over Willow carefully. She kissed her warmly on the top of the head and grabbed some blankets and a pillow for the couch. “Night sweetie,” she sighed.



------------------------------------





I saw the groan, written in smutty neon lighting, just before I opened my eyes and actually made the noise. I felt the smooth sheets under my skin. My naked skin. Just what the hell did I do last night?



Then it slowly came back...a fair amount of drinking, lots of dancing, some rather inappropriate smoochies, and one full monty before bedtime. Slightly embarrassing but not nearly the disaster that waking up confused and unclothed could’ve been.



I dressed in a robe and made my way to the bathroom. My face looked pale and sickly. So a little alcohol, prescription drugs, and traumatic brain injury don’t mix. I’ll put it in my lesson planner and call it learned.



I realized that there was something worse than waking up hungover...waking up alone. I headed downstairs in search of anything to get this rancid taste out of my mouth.



Tara was sleeping on the sofa, her broken hand hanging haphazardly off the armrest and the other tucked tightly under her head. Upon seeing her I winced, realizing that last night I practically made out with two of our friends while she was standing three feet from me. No wonder she didn’t stay upstairs like she had been before. I tucked the blanket around her and went into the kitchen where I found Buffy making coffee.



“Hey Will,” she said consolingly as she took in my appearance. “Coffee?”



“Water,” I answered. She opened the refrigerator and retrieved the little blessing of a bottle. I gulped down half of it in the first minute. “Thanks.”



“I’m gonna kill Anya...what the hell was she thinking?” Buffy jammed a piece of toast into her mouth and chewed angrily.



“I took her to the bar...it’s really not her fault,” I replied, wondering how my hangover could piss her off so much. Did I have a drinking problem and now I’m off the wagon?



“It’s just not safe to walk home drunk at night,” she warned. “Promise me you’ll call a cab or one of us next time.”



“Okay,” I replied with a half shrug. Overprotective much? Sunnydale looked more suburby than ghetto but she would know better than I would. “What’s on tap for today?”



“I’ve got to meet with Giles at the Magic Box to train.” She trailed off like she had said too much. I challenged the statement. “Train for what?”



“Uh...kickboxing,” the blonde responded, in a most unconvincing tone, might I add. She wasn’t much of a liar and this wasn’t the first time in the last four days she had felt the need to lie to me. Like when she told me my accident had come from falling off unstable supports at a construction site. Yet I didn’t work there and no one could tell me exactly why I would go to some condemned worksite in the first place. At night no less. Suspicion was mounting over my supposed best friend and I didn’t like the queasy feeling it left in my stomach. Or maybe that was the Tequila...I wasn’t 100% sure.



All I was sure of was that I didn’t feel particularly safe in a house with someone I couldn’t trust.

---

All you need to start an asylum is an empty room and the right kind of people.

~Eugene Pallette in My Man Godfrey (1936)



Altered Shadows

Oh oh, Willow may have lost her memory but she aint lost her smarts, someone better give her the 411 soon.

------------------



There can be no rainbow without rain, you cannot know true happiness until you know sadness first.

Yay... I love this story so far I'm glad Willow's still very Willow. I wonder if she'll remember more of Tara (mmmm!-parts) or kind of starts over...

------------------------------------------------------------------

‘I like being in complete and utter control. I like to dominate!’

I am really enjoying this fic so far, especially the nice lengthy updates. It was funny to see a drunk Willow and Anya, they were hysterical together. Kind of feel bad for Tara though. Willow's memory loss has got to be so hard for her, well hard on everyone but especially her. Looking forward to the next update!

Im so worried about Willow!

Oooooo drunk is good.... (in a very bad way)

and naked Willow.... (very good) Tara sleeping on the couch (much badness)



I just got home from work and I'm feeling rather .... so that's all the sentences I can manage for now.... Im so glad you've updated and when I feel a little less I'll come back out and leave you something feedbacky and constructive.



Until then.....





xoxo

Emms

I can wax philisophically on a variety of different subjects...that doesn't,however, mean that I have anything constructive to add to the conversation.

--- Me

Loved this update cause you know drunk willow although it was kinda wierd to have her kissing anya but in a good way. Naked Willow is also a very good thing



Anyway great update and I love how you keep changed perspectives at the beginning to show us what tara is going through and how hard it is for her cause she has lost her rock



More soon please



Silent

It's like I can't breathe, It's like I can't see anything, Nothing but you, I'm addicted to you



- Kelly Clarkson "Addicted"

Hey there!



I'm so glad I found this. You have totally drawn me in. What an interesting take on the whole portal, memory loss deal.



I absolutely love all the touches you add to your stories. You've got everyone here...even Spike. I like it because he doesn't make too many appearances in fic world.



I actually got cold chills a couple of times while reading. Is it the frigid temperatures? No, it's just your amazing writing.



Great job. Can't wait for more.



Wimpy





"There was plenty of magic." ~ Tara

Great chapter!



I'm so glad to see Willow and Anya hanging out and getting along. I'm really fond of Anya so her and Willow having a compatible friendship makes the story all the more enjoyable. I had trouble trying to stop laughing when Willow planted the kiss on Anya. Seems she's pretty frisky when she's drunk.



I also like how you slipped in how everyone acts around her, each one seems to fit well with the character. And I like that you didn't already have Willow head over heals in love and spewing poetry over Tara, but still having an obvious attraction and affection. It seems very realistic to me.



Anyways, continue soon!

Interesting.



Usually it's Tara who features in this sort of 'coming-back' AU/alternative ending type of Fic. Probably due to that bit of unpleasantness in S sux.



So it's nice to take a backward step, keep Buffy on this mortal coil, have Willow be the centre of the story, and come up with a plot line that erases the cul-de-sac that 'the Gift' created - which set up the rather pointless S6 and S7



Keep it up!

-----------------------------------

love and kisses

Still Waters



"collecting dead rainbows from puddles and mires"



lostcoast.blogspot.com

Having closed the portal without anyone dying, you might think everything would be just fine. Yet there are always prices to be paid, and it's Willow and Tara who are paying.



You do an excellent job of portraying Tara's suffering: the pain of her injury, the fear of taking meds because they would make her sleep. And if she's asleep, she: a) can't be taking care of Willow, and b) returns in dreams to the horror of Glory's attack.



Meanwhile, Willow tries to rebuild her life from the wreckage. Not so easy when your family is absent and your "friends" won't tell the truth. Once again, Buffy's need to keep secrets is going to cause disaster. Everyone knows it, Xander, Anya, even Spike. As usual, Giles goes along. Must be a slayer/watcher thing. And Tara's hardly in a strong enough position to defy the slayer, especially while living under her roof. Buffy's "not much of a liar," but she keeps trying, thinking that this time it will make everything ok. Isn't that the definition of insanity?



One attractive quality of the "new" Willow is her liking for Anya. The antipathy between them seems to have vanished with Willow's memories, and Anya's outspokenness must be a breath of fresh air when everyone else is tiptoeing around her, afraid to say the wrong thing.



I'm rather hoping that as this story develops, Willow doesn't magically get her memories back. Perhaps, as with brain injured people, she may recall bits and pieces of her past (which would make Buffy's deception more difficult to maintain.) I'd like to see the process of building her life anew, and making a life with Tara.



An excellent, well-crafted story. I'm eager to see where you go with it.

Russ



When we love and give it everything we've got, no matter what the consequences, we are doing what we were put here to do -- Geneen Roth

Such a lot in one update, great work. First, Tara. Oh my god, how much has she been through the last few days, Willow in a coma, then no memories, so afraid to leave her side that she doesn't take care of her own injuries. But the undercurrent is, she has faith and inner strength to get them both through. I look forward to how you let them rebuild their relationship. I'm with russ, it'll be much more touching if they can fall in love again and may be some of Willow's memories come back gradually, and the other memories they reconstruct jointly.



Drunk Willow without insecurites and preconceptions, that was fun! I'm glad she was able to have a good time with Anya, and show her "appreciation". Would have liked for Tara to stay in bed with her, but sleeping on the couch was the sensible thing to do. There is so much potential for Willow to develop into the person she could have been, without the self-doubts and the hunger for power. And for her to once and for all learn that Tara loves her not for the magic, but for herself.



Lastly, Buffy needs to snap out of it and tell Willow the truth. Shy geeky Willow could handle it at high school, she can handle it now, especially when she has the support system of her friends.

------

quiet thoughts

OK, not trying to put words into the authors mouth or anything, but my take on Buffy's not coming clean is that she does'nt want to freak willow out. She doesnt know what the scoobies are all about without her memories Willow is just another 'civilian' who wont see things. Buffy is trying to protect Willow from the actuality of their existence, until such time she thinks Will can start to handle it. She might be wrong with the timing, but not the intent. Cut her some slack guys

-----------------------------------

love and kisses

Still Waters



"collecting dead rainbows from puddles and mires"



lostcoast.blogspot.com

Oh look, a season5 end which I would have enjoyed MUCH more This way Willow's sacrifice is at least appriciated, not so much in the season6-TV-edition. Using her growing power for Good Things, nice to see (non-suicidal Buffy helps too;-).



I wonder why Giles thinks Willow's memory-loss is magic induced. Willow was blown into another building, that WILL hurt your brain. He does have a point wondering how Willow managed to perform those three spells, it must have taken pretty much all her energy. Willow would likely have in trouble without that blast that caused her head-injury as well, she would have fallen down probably. (and we know that just isn't good for you)



Besides which I would at the moment prefer there not to be any sort of magical fix for Willow's memory loss. She'll get back parts of memories sure, she'll form new one too.. with Tara for sure . Willow seems to cope fairly well with her memory-loss either way, it's the other scoobies that have trouble with it Would an attempt to fix it by magic really be worth it ?



Willow has not only forgotten the good memories but also lots of bad ones. As a result she gets along fine with Anya at the moment, it helps that Anya is most honest with her (though she skipped how she came to town).



What I don't get is how Willow managed to miss all the magic-related information no doubt stored in an orderly fashion on her laptop. She has the password (which was neat;-), might as well study that source of information.



It is definitly not wise not to tell Willow about some specificly Sunnydale dangers. You don't have to tell her Buffy fights them, just make Willow aware of some of the non-logical dangers. Another possible problem might be discovering magic by accident.



Poor Tara now has to care for Willow while she herself still needs some care too . It's nice to see how most of the other scoobies adapt to their care-taker roles, Xander has a bit of a problem with it it seems (probably 'cos he wants to tell Willow all the information at once and get her back to 'normal').



Tara needs to get some sleep herself. It's not healthy to stay awake too long and it definitly wont help Willow at all. I wonder what they told Willow about Tara's injury by the way, same scaffold ??



Dawn and Willow talking... well obviously Willow won't have the Dawn-is-fake-memory so that talks a whole lot easier I guess. Should Willow be told the fake-memory part or would that just confuse things since Dawn appearantly is here to stay?



Regardless what Willow says, Anya should have known better than take Will to a bar that late at night. She's blunt, not stupid .



I think this will be a neat story to read, probably somewhat angsty but that will be peanuts compared to a certain season I saw on telly .



What was that other story you referred to, "RS" ??



Grimmy

--
"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine

Edited by: Grimlock72 at: 1/22/05 9:52 am

Yay...lot's of feedback...and I love it all ...





robotguru: Indeed. Keeping the redheaded genius in the dark about these secrets is not falling under the heading of a good idea.



lil fled: Thanks. Mmmm...Tara parts....mmmm...what was that? Did you have a question?



Irishgrl3: Yes, glad you liked Willow and Anya...a little levity. I'm going for the longer updates with this one but we'll see how it goes as the story progresses.



MissKittys Ball O Yarn: Howdy, Emms... Can I ask what's worrying you the most? Curious minds want to know...not that it will have much effect on the story. If it is the rather bad choice of getting drunk, under the circumstances, then I understand. I think it's a bit of a balancing act, getting Willow to have actions, thoughts, speech patterns, etc. that are very Willowish mixed in with actions that are not (i.e. a night at the bar with Anya). She's still trying to find herself...she allowed to make some missteps along the way I suppose.



Tara's gotta be the strongest person in town to leave naked Willow in that bed...my own morals would prob be a little more bendy.



Love hearing from ya' no matter how you may feel.



silentinformer: Don't get too hung up on the drunk kissing actions of Willow...those patterns won't be repeating. Like I mentioned earlier, It's a tough call but I think Tara is the one suffering more but let's see what we can do for the both of them, hmmm?



wimpy0729: Hey Wimpy...Welcome! Maybe it's my strange personality but I like to try to write with a different slant so I'm always happy when people are interested. I'm glad you like the attention to detail...yeah, the whole gang's there, even Spike...I just don't think it would be possible for one of them to go missing under the circumstances...not to say that I will use all of them equally. Spike, however, will get some work.



Disastered: Intoxicated Willow IS awful frisky isn't she? I'm glad you think the changes seem realistic. Thanks for reading.



Still Waters Run Deep: Thanks...yes I didn't think anyone would mind me playing with a different season 6, all things considered.



Your take on the Buffy intentions is what I was going for and I don't think it necessarily a bad idea to keep her at 'civilian status' for now but her methods of covering over and lying leave a little to be desired.



russ: Your dissection is spot on...I think it's an interesting question to have her 'meet' this whole group of people and see them in a different manner than canon. Anya is very straightforward, which seems to appeal to Willow's needs right now. Part of the reason she has had problems with Anya was her fear of Xander getting hurt and the ex-demon brought her doppelganger over business. Remove that and it's a whole different game. Same thing goes with Xander and Buffy but in the other direction. Xander was her lifelong bestest bud but the way he is avoiding her doesn't reflect that...etc.



And I have rambled on and on here. So the short version: Thanks for such thorough thoughts.



hidden watson: Always fun to read your comments...I'm glad Tara is coming off the way I intended. I think her not staying with Willow on drunk night was just another act of her total lack of selfishness, not wanting to make Willow uncomfortable in the morning or make her think Tara had took advantage of her in that position. Buffy is digging herself a big hole...one lie generally leads to more and if she continues, her relationship with Willow will tough to salvage.



Grimlock72: Certainly the injury could be just from physical trauma, but I think Giles and the gang are hoping that it is magick related because perhaps they can do something about that. They’re all about action and helping people after all.

Quote:

---

it helps that Anya is most honest with her (though she skipped how she came to town)

---

That's the thing...Anya is being honest (even if she is editing a bit). And while this may not be clear yet, no one else is actually lying except Buffy...just editing or avoiding completely (a la Xander).



And yes, Anya knew better than to go drinking with Willow. But Willow's a smart gal too...she had to know that that wasn't the world's greatest idea either.



You're very perceptive about the laptop...let's just say she hasn't had much time to give it a lookover yet.



Thanks for the response...muchly appreciated.



Oh…RS is another story I have around here called Relinquished Symmetry. It’s quite a bit darker (well at least in my mind when I write it). May or may not be your cup of tea.







Speaking of which, I'm working on RS right now and then I will work on the new part here. Things are sorta picking up and getting busy for me and, sorry to say, I think I'm gonna have to go find where I misplaced my life (it's always in the last place you look). I'll do my best for expediency and keep you up to date on the progression of part 3.



~Cyd

---

All you need to start an asylum is an empty room and the right kind of people.

~Eugene Pallette in My Man Godfrey (1936)



Altered Shadows

Edited by: hermitfish at: 1/23/05 6:15 am

Oh, I like the first two parts of this. I haven't seen anything like this before, so I'm really enjoying it. I like the different way that you have 'The Gift' ending. Buffy did tell Willow that she was her Big Gun, and Willow never takes things too lightly when it comes to saying the world.



Poor Tara, having to see her girlfriend and remembering everything while Willow doesn't remember most of the important stuff.



I like how you show Willow working things out. Will's the brainy type, most definitiely. Although it does set it up for major negative feelings when she confirms that she's been lied to in a very big way.



Drunk Willow and Anya. Oh my... Willow kissing Anya on the lips and then Xander's reaction... lol. If Willow does regain her memories, she's going to be like 'Ack! I kissed Anya.'



I'm waiting patiently for the next update.