• Title: The Rosenberg Institute
• Author: pipsberg
• Feedback: This is my first W/T story, so I would love your honest and constructive feedback. The more encouragement I get, the more I am bound to write!
• Distribution: Please ask me first.
• Spoilers: This story is completely AU and unless you consider the Civil War and events leading up to it to be “news”, you won’t find any spoilers. If I have ruined the history of the Civil War for you, I apologize deeply.
• Rating: At least R, possibly venturing into NC-17 territory. I will give ratings and notes for each part as needed.
• Pairing: W/T
• Summary: As events hurl the United States towards an imminent Civil War, young Tara Maclay accepts a position as a science assistant at a secret teaching institute.
The Rosenberg Institute, Part 23
Previously…“Husband?” Anne hissed, stepping closer to Willow.
Over Donnie’s shoulder, I saw Willow’s hands fly up to cover her mouth, her eyes locking with mine as they instantly filled with tears. My gut wrenched with the pain I saw in her beautiful face. Anne’s hand was immediately on Willow’s back, her eyes coldly assessing me. Harris dared not grin or talk, but only shook her head in disgust, then turned and walked away. A sob burst forth from Willow’s clamped mouth and she turned away towards Anne, huddled in her arms.Rated – PG I found Willow about twenty minutes later. She was asleep and curled in a fetal position with tear tracks streaking her face. I had looked for her in all our usual haunts, but she would have expected me to do that and had hidden underneath the stairs to the basement cellar. My heart ached to see her in so much pain, especially knowing I had caused it; and for such a seemingly innocent reason.
I crouched down next to Willow and lightly touched her arm, then her face, moving hesitantly closer to her with every caress. I did not know how she would react. Would she yell at me? Would she curse the day she met me and run me off? Either way, I had to try and convince her that I loved her and hadn’t meant to hurt her.
“Willow” I whispered lightly as I stroked her arm and face, “Wake up Willow, love, I need to explain…”
Her eyes slowly blinked open as the realization set in that someone was speaking to her. She didn’t move, but was awake and alert. She simply stared at me – accusing, hurting, angry and confused. Was it possible for one look to convey all those emotions? She was like a wounded deer.
Willow wet her dry lips and spoke hoarsely and slowly, obviously exhausted and parched from crying. “How could you do this to me Tara? I thought you loved me?”
Her eyes spoke all the hurt she was feeling. I felt it too. In anguish, my eyes filled with tears and I steeled myself with the effort to not break down in this moment; to be strong for Willow and explain myself. “Oh sweetie, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. And I love you s-so much.”
I inched closer to her as I spoke, one hand on her arm where I had been comforting her. I half sat and half squatted next to her. This was as close as she seemed willing to let me be at the moment. When I was more settled, I stroked Willow’s face with my free hand and she shuddered, taking in a staccato breath and releasing it in jagged pants. I tipped her chin up and stared into her watery eyes. “I love you from the bottom of my heart Willow. That hasn’t changed. Can I explain? Can I tell you a story I hadn’t told you yet? Not because you didn’t deserve to hear it or I wanted to hide it from you, but because I was scared to tell you. I was ashamed.”
“I don’t think I’m going to enjoy this story Tara. I’m not sure if I want to hear it.” Silent tears where now running down Willow’s face, her lower lip quivering as she spoke.
“I know baby, but I need to tell you this and you need to hear it.”
I moved even closer, sitting fully on the floor now, and wrapped my arms around Willow’s lower body to maintain some contact with her as I talked. Willow nodded almost imperceptibly and I took a deep breath and let it out on a shaky sigh. Willow was gazing at me from teary, red eyes. She was open and vulnerable. She trusted me even after I had omitted this huge part of my life and it made my heart ache and my love for her soar. I started my story hesitantly. I wasn’t sure were to start, what to say or how to end. “You remember that my Mother died when I was fairly young. It was about eight years ago now…” I waited for Willow to nod and proceeded when she did, letting out a nervous laugh. “I feel so odd telling you a long involved story Will. You are usually doing all the talking.” Willow smiled a tight smile and nodded for me to continue.
“Not long after my Mother died, my Father became more embroiled in politics. That is to say, Mother was discreetly holding him back. Not in a controlling way, but because he was scared to injure her good name; tarnish the family so to speak. Does that make sense?” Willow nodded again, not saying anything and simply observing me beneath damp eyelashes. “I guess I have to go even further back. Growing up, my Mother was acquainted with another Charleston family. They were distant relations, I believe. Honestly, it was never very clear to me how she knew them, but she had a strong bond with the family and we grew up spending a lot of time with them - with their children.”
“The Osbornes, I presume?” Willow whispered hoarsely.
“Yes” I nodded. “Daniel and I were good friends growing up. He was several years older than me and also had a younger sister with whom he was very close. She died of an infection at six years old. I think Daniel thought of me as his new sister after that.”
“That’s sad,” Willow said tentatively. “But brothers don’t marry their sisters, Tara.”
“No, they don’t Willow.” I stroked her hand lightly as I continued to speak. “Back to the politics then. My Father’s activities after my Mother died were dramatic, to say the least. He began meeting with abolitionists and distributing what most in the South would consider traitorous literature about abolishing Slavery. Even though I didn’t quite understand it all then, I was so proud of him.”
Willow nodded sympathetically, most likely recalling her own brave Father.
“At that point, probably catching wind of his activities via rumor, several families we grew up with in Charleston visited my Father in Chicago. One of them was the Osbornes. They had good intentions, no doubt. They didn’t think the Republicans would gain any ground over the next few years and they were scared for my father; for Donnie and I. More specifically, they were worried for me. I was a motherless girl approaching marriageable age with a seemingly crazy Father.”
Our hands intertwined now, our fingers lightly playing against each other. Willow seemed more relaxed, though she no doubt was coming to understand where my story was leading. “They convinced my Father to allow a marriage with Daniel Osborne with the thought that it would protect me.”
Though not surprised by this point, Willow still glanced at me sharply. “I don’t suppose you had any say in this matter then, Tara?” Willow looked forlornly at me, hoping for a struggle from me; that I fought the arrangement.
I sighed heavily and hugged her legs tighter to me, rubbing my hand on her calf. “I wasn’t happy about it Willow. I didn’t want to be someone’s property, or to be shuttled around like baggage from man to man. But, did I fight it? No. I thought it was a sound plan at the time. I was but fifteen years old, I had just lost my mother and I didn’t understand love.” I paused and reached up to her face, my finger tips stroking her cheeks lightly. I cupped her face and smiled, my lips trembling. ”I hadn’t found you yet Willow. You changed everything for me.”
I leaned forward so that our foreheads touched and sighed, stroking her hair lovingly as I prepared to tell her the rest. “Can I go on Willow?” She nodded slightly and I pulled back while leaving my arms resting on her knees and my hand in her lap. I smoothed my hands over her dress covered knees in a soothing manner. I hoped to help ease the unpleasant topic with my touch. “We were married quietly once I turned sixteen; an arbitrary date in my opinion, but my father thought it was appropriate. It wasn’t announced and only our immediate family attended.”
Willow sniffled a bit and then looked up, her eyes tearing up again. Her bottom lip trembled and her face was taut with pain. “You belong to him Tara, for all intents and purposes, you are his.”
“No Willow. No!” I reached out and held her face again, my eyes boring into hers. “I don’t belong to him, I never did. I don’t love him. We didn’t even consummate the marriage!” I let out a puff of air after that outburst. “Technically, it could be annulled Willow, I suppose that’s what I always thought would happen; I would find the love of my life and marry him instead. But I didn’t find him, I found you.”
Willow leaned forward into me and clutched at my shoulders, burying her head in the crook of my neck. “But why is he here Tara? What does it mean?”
I stroked her hair, glad to seemingly be over the worst of if. Her affection appeared to be returned to me and at this point that was all that mattered in my narrow world of Willowness.
“I don’t know why he is here Willow… after all this time. I haven’t seen him since a few months after we married. He was bound to China the last time we spoke and I had a few letters from there…and India after that; then nothing. Donald and I assumed he was dead.”
Willow nodded against my shoulder, sniffling lightly. I continued to run my hands through her hair, lightly parting the soft strands with my fingers.
“We have bigger problems at this point Willow.” I lifted her face up towards mine so our eyes could meet. “Anne has asked me to leave immediately.”
Willow shook her head in slow motion, thousands of emotions playing across her face. Anger, disbelief, worry, panic and finally… resolve.
“I will worry about Anne. You need to find out why Daniel is here and how Donald is wrapped up in all of this. The timing cannot be a coincidence. The Republican convention is only weeks away, and suddenly your long lost husband appears from the woodwork with your radical lawyer brother in tow? Once we have all the facts, we can regroup and come up with a plan.”
I smiled tenderly down at Willow, her face still grasped in my hands. I felt as though my lips would break with the stretching. My eyes watered with tears again and I grimaced with the force of holding them back. This wasn’t my time to be sorry for myself or pity my situation. This was Willow’s time to deal with my history, and true to her vibrant nature she was embracing the positive. If it was even possible I loved her more. “I love the way you think, baby… just a moment ago I was afraid you would never speak to me again, and now you are hatching a diabolical plan.”
Willow smile weakly, sighed, and sat up straighter. She dusted off her clothes lightly and wrapped her arms around her knees.
“I have to admit Tara, I never thought truly ill of you. I was terrified when I realized…” she choked up, almost crying, and then reached out for my hand, “when I thought you would be taken away from me. But sitting here throwing my own little pity party gave me time to think. It wasn’t in character, that you wouldn’t have a good reason, that you wouldn’t still find a way to love me. Not after all we shared and not after all this risks you have already taken for me. Do you get that at all?”
She looked expectantly at me and I nodded slowly. “I do Willow, I really do.” I leaned forward and kissed her. It was a slow, soft, achingly sweet kiss. It wasn’t a goodbye, nor a hello, but a promise of much, much more and a reassurance of our bond.
After several moments of simply holding each other, we stood slowly, dusted ourselves off, and set out with our hands clasped tightly together; Willow to face Anne and me to face Daniel and his dramatic reappearance.
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Wow! What a cliffhanger, and what a twist! Tara's married to Daniel!?! Holy jiff, now that came out of left field, didn't it. Hate to state the obvious, but I have a feeling that Tara being married and her not-so-dead husband showing up at the Institute is not really going to go over well with Willow, and personally if I were Tara I'd be really scared of Anne (and to a lesser degree, Harris) right about now. While I don't blame Tara for keeping mum—she thought Mr. Tara was dead, after all—I can't see Willow initially accepting any explanation, despite Tara's best reasoning. While Daniel certainly has some 'splainin' to do about why he's not dead, Tara probably has the most 'plainin' to do out of everyone. Da-damn. 
Once again, Pips, my dear, I bow to you in humble surrender to your literary charms. Well done! 
This bodes not well at all for Tara and Willow and Anne (she's going to be all kinds of mad about this in Willow's defence).
Glad you liked the flip flop as well.
Well pip you really know how to bring us in to the storm of a century and yes I will hold on for dear life. I weep for Willow and for Tara even though I am really pissed at her right now. I am real impressed with Anne I loved how protective she is I would have told Tara the same thing talk and get out. the whole scene played out in slow motion for me bravo will hold on the cliff only by my finger tips pip. 
