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[center]See Chapter One for disclaimers. Thank you Starcomed for the continued beta. And away we go![/center]
chapter 14
In a semi-dark room, bent over a table littered with half emptied containers, books, and paper scraps, Willow sat with her head in her hands. “Why can’t I find her?!”
Xander gave her a winning smile. “C’mon Willow, you’ll figure it out! You always do.” His face faltered a bit.
“Will, how about a break?” Buffy hoped a small intervention might help.
Willow shook her head, “No, I can’t stop now. We can’t give up now.” Grabbing at a notepad she began writing once more.
“We aren’t giving up Willow… we never do, right?” Xander replied, as he took the writing pad away from her.
“Just a little breather, just to get out of here. Look, the sun’s out and everything.” Buffy motioned over her shoulder. “Why don’t we enjoy a bit of it?”
Willow’s adamant nature was coming into play. Her friends were hoping to subdue it before the days and nights of true obsession were to begin.
Too late.
“You guys go if you want, I’m going to keep researching.” Willow was about to snatch an incredibly large and ancient tome off the counter.
“Will, stop.” Xander put a hand on the book to stop her. “Just stop.” He dropped another hand on her shoulder trying to gently hold her back.
The room suddenly seemed too small, spiraling inward on her. Willow shrugged Xander off her shoulder and defiantly picked up the book. He gave up and drifted back towards Buffy as Willow focused all her attention on the ancient compendium, inattentive to the whispers around her. Buffy and Xander disappeared completely out of the picture and the book in Willow’s hands felt bigger than before. The room seemed to shift.
“I have to find that demon! It’s ‘causing havoc, I can help if we could just fi—… !” Willow announced out loud as she bent her head down and began flipping through the pages.
“The demon?”
It was Giles’ voice that drew her attention. Willow looked up at him, suddenly noticing how tired and worn he appeared. Then, she felt it herself. She felt it deep within her and she knew her own face reflected the same expression. Her voice had changed too, grave and drawn. “We have to find….”
“I know….” Giles smiled with an optimism that washed away the haggard expression on his face. He became youthful once more. “We shouldn’t let our best intentions undermine our best efforts. Take a break Willow, get some… perspective; you need it.”
Willow knew he was right. She nodded and was about to say something, but Giles was already gone. Pushing back in her seat, her perspective changed completely and the darkened room seemed emptier than before.
I don’t want to push everyone away. Her own company felt less than satisfying, daunting really, and she got up quickly. Running like a child to catch up with everyone, she burst out of the room that only opened into a larger space. She darted across the wooden floor, leaping up the short staircase, to a small landing, and opened the front door.
Unexpectedly, a bell jingled.
Standing in the sun, Willow quickly shaded her eyes, the natural light was so bright. She was again too late as a burst of starry lights exploded behind her eyelids with her first blink. At first, the sun felt good on her skin, but it quickly felt too hot. In fact, it burned into her, prompting her to go. As her vision cleared, she realized that no one looked familiar to her; all strangers. She strained her head one direction and then the other looking for her friends as shadows of light played across her face.
What time is it?
Willow looked down at her wrist. Realizing she had forgotten her watch, she grabbed and twisted the spot where it should have been resting.
Great. Everyone took off, left me…again. What time is it? I can’t tell. She squinted up at the sky, a bright light blue streaked with cotton white.
Morning? No! Afternoon.
Time. Willow had forgotten how to keep time.
She used to keep time by school; it was her regimented schedule. Elementary school: class, break, class, lunch, recess, class, home, home work. Junior high: homeroom, advanced math, break, biology, P.E. (ugh), lunch, art, advanced English, hanging out after school with Xander and Jesse, homework. High school, college, and on and on....
It wasn’t just school she kept time to. Willow also kept time to the people in her life.
Unsure of where to go, she began walking, her lone footsteps seemed too loud.
I should go home, when was the last time I was home?
She kept time to her parents, sparingly, because they were never readily available or present in her life. Still, she did. Summer in particular, that time period without school, was marked by the fact that she did see her parents a bit more.
Besides her parents, her longest timekeeper was Xander, from the sandbox to this very day. Mornings before school, lunchtime breaks, after school, and in-between—he was there. When he got out of wood shop, she got out of geometry, his biology class, her chemistry class. And after school meant fun time with Xander, until it was absolutely time to go home, early evening, before the sun went down. Silly lazy days and talks of better futures, dreamt and spoken about before they parted ways.
Then Buffy arrived. And Willow was keeping time in a slightly different way. Her days seemed to stretch out further, from early morning mochas to late night sugar fests. Hours dissolving into minutes filled with demon questing and slaying. But not always, sometimes nights ticked away in sheer frivolity.
With Buffy came Giles, whiling away afternoons in the library between classes or nights researching. Tea, heavy books, and discussions with the ex-librarian.
Willow was startled to already be home.
That was quicker than I remember.
Then, there was that ‘lost’ time, missing or forgotten, from the people she used to keep time to.
Jesse was part of her time with Xander, but he was gone. Now she could barely recall what it was like to have him around, except that Jesse had an affection for donuts. He had introduced Xander and her to the various wonders of sugary goodness after school until it had become a routine for all of them. Donuts were Jesse’s legacy.
Then there was Ms. Calendar; though her time in Willow’s life was short-lived, there existed those minutes of time that had linked them together.
Oz. Oz, unlike Ms. Calendar, was a span of time. One that Willow had missed with all the longing and pain of youth, especially when he first left. Marking her suffering was the count of hours, then days when she had last seen him. No more between class meetings, minutes walking hand in hand, and affectionate afternoons to look forward to.
Time was institutional and the world mundane at best without someone to keep time to.
That’s why people keep ‘busy’.
Sighing, Willow looked up at the house; it seemed forlorn and rather sad. She knew no one would be inside waiting for her; no one had set their clock to her. Still, she shuffled up the porch and unlocked the door.
And then, there was Tara. Somehow, unexplainable to Willow, she didn’t just keep time to her friend. She kept time
with her. Hours seemed like minutes, no matter what they were doing.
And the pregnancy? The pregnancy turned months into seconds, so it seemed. It was charted and graphed—meetings for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Checking Tara’s progress and appetite, until suddenly the semester was over. The baby would be coming. No vampire, no final test, no apocalypse would stop this passage of time. It was inevitable, or so it seemed… until the day Tara left.
People always leave.
Willow walked through the front door and tossed her keys onto a nearby table. A hollow echo of metal against wood reverberated through the house. Walking into the living room, she noticed the place was a mess and in need of a clean up. Books stacked haphazardly, clothing thrown around, paperwork strewn about. Yet despite the clutter, she just sank into a nearby chair. She pulled her legs up to rest her chin on her knees and peered out the window.
She no longer kept time with Tara.
The world kept spinning, time kept moving.
Turning slightly, Willow stared at a battered photo resting on the table next to her. She reached out to the keepsake with trembling fingers, but immediately pulled back. Instead, she regarded the candid photo of the young blondish woman who was laughing with a measure of sadness. She could no longer recall the exact circumstances that resulted in that perfectly captured moment.
Willow had lost track of time.
If the baby had been born, whether yesterday, today, or tomorrow, she didn’t know for sure.
There were no morning feedings, no afternoon naps, no burping after meals, no diaper changes…no first steps, no first words…no first day of school. There was no child to set her watch to.
Closing her eyes, Willow sunk deep into the chair. The follies of her youth had ripened into sorrow and moldered into regret. All she could do was loll her head backwards, pressing the back of her neck into the curved edge of the chair as her past settled remorsefully beside her. Suddenly, a ghostly something brushed up against her legs, or so she thought, and she bolted upright surprised to find it was already dark outside.
What time is it? I need to find my watch.
- - BBRRRRR-INNNNGGG - -
Startled, Willow jumped to her feet. Once she had her bearings, she picked up the receiver and heard Giles’ voice filtering statically through the phone. “Where? You found the demon, really? Now? Ok! I’ll be there.”
Time was indifferent and it inched forward, heedless of the details in most people’s lives.
It didn’t matter what Willow wanted or needed to do, she had to help, she was needed. It's what she did. And so, she found herself crouched down in a dark hallway after cautiously edging up a winding staircase with sparse light. Unable to see anything in front of or behind her, she could barely focus in on the voices some distance from her.
Buffy and Xander? Giles? They told me to come here, where are they?
“We can’t stop it.”
“Willow it’s coming your way!”
She got ready. All her searching, researching, and hard work we’re behind her. It had all came down to this moment. Her heartbeats quickened in response and a sheen of sweat formed on her brow. There was a sound of heavy, but incredibly fast movements, barreling towards her. Willow tensed in anticipation.
Unexpectedly, a voice familiar and unfamiliar whispered in her ear.
“Careful...it makes all things disappear—time.”
It caught Willow off guard. “Time?”
She closed her eyes briefly, just a momentary pause between blinking. When she opened them, she suddenly found herself face to face with the demon.
“Oh my god.” She froze, staring up at the creature that was breathing heavily. Its mouth hung open as it focused its eyes hard on hers.
It could all be over now. Willow just closed her eyes again, counting her heartbeats and the passing seconds. Then, she thought she felt the demon move close and hover over her.
In an instance her mind drifted. She felt like a child with her eyes shut tight and the dark cast that moved across her face was simply a shadow of the sun. She used to like to lie out in the sun with her eyes closed playing sundial….
The floor beneath her buckled and waved….
…Willow was in the middle of cleaning her room. This chore was long past due.
Too much demon fighting with Buffy and Xander. How long has it been? How many apocalypses have we averted? I can’t even remember, we’re always fighting demons, vampires, stopping some end of the world disaster. Doesn’t matter, because I’d rather be doing THAT than this, but—
Walking past a mirror, she stopped to gaze at herself, noting how much how older she was.
Am I getting wrinkles? Jutting her face toward the glass, she gently pulled at the skin beneath her eyes.
I have wrinkles.
*Bbuzzzzzz*
Willow set down the armful of clothes on a chair and walked over to pick up some spare cash sitting on a nearby table. There always seemed to be some kid selling candy in her neighborhood. Though it was daytime, she cautiously put her hand on the doorknob and peeked out the eyehole just to make sure it wasn’t something or someone else.
Just in case.
On the other side of the door, she spied a teenager bundled in a puffy vest and wearing a hat that sat oddly on her head. She laughed a bit; the girl seemed so out of sorts fidgeting with her backpack.
Alright, let’s see what she’s selling, probably some chocolate bars, I’ll make sure to have Giles check them out. You never know.
Ready, Willow swung the door open. "Can I help you?"
“You are… or, are you Willow Rosenberg.”
“Yes, I…” Willow tilted her head slightly, unable to shake the oddest feeling. The young woman had the funniest way of asking a question, that didn’t sound like a question at all. “Um, do I know you?”
“Sort of… I’m…?” The girl stuck out a hand awkwardly and a watch dangled loosely around her slender wrist.
Smiling inwardly, Willow took the girl’s hand without hesitation. There was just something about her.
Unable to help herself, the right side of the girl’s mouth curled upward as Ms. Rosenberg warmly shook her hand.
“Hello Mother.”
“Hell-,” the word faded on Willow’s lips, so that she was left with her mouth hanging open. “-O”. And she stood frozen.
“U-um?” The girl tried once more. “H-Hello?” Nervousness suddenly got the better of her. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have just blurted that out. That was stupid. I should’ve said something else first. I just kind of said it, you know? I don’t know what I was thinking! Here I am, finally meeting you… after 15 years, and I say the wrong thing. The absolute worst thing! I’m sorry, maybe this was a mistake… maybe I should just go?” The young woman’s hand grew weak as she started to withdraw from the handshake.
Willow didn’t hear a single word past ‘hello mother’. Shocked, she was too busy taking in the sight of the teenager in front of her. Her crooked smile was a warm remembrance that she’d had only glimpsed upon in a faded photo. Her facial features, now that Willow looked closely, resembled a character of memory. One she recalled with a mixture of convoluted emotions. Then, there were her eyes - blue, crystalline blue, so familiar.
It is Tara’s child. And my…my child? The girl was thin - her body lithe, like her very own. Willow craned her neck, glimpsing a wisp of familiar copper tucked under the girl’s hat. Out of the corner of her eye, she surreptitiously examined her own hair color and gulped.
The girl furrowed her brow as Willow examined her. “I-I’m sorry Ms. Rosenberg, I obviously made a mistake. I am really sorry to bother you.”
“Wait!” Clasping her free hand around the girl’s before it slipped away, Willow held on firmly as if to keep the youth from disappearing. She hoped the girl’s watch would lock her hand in place. But it was all for naught, as the girl’s hand seemed to evaporate becoming ghostly and Willow felt it slip away from her. The girl’s watch she was hoping to catch hold of, she felt last of all—the slight scrape of metal on her palms as it passed through her hands.
My watch!
Willow wasn’t sure, but she felt the oddest sensation of herself falling. Plummeting down a long dark tunnel. She became nauseous as her stomach pitched and her heart jumped in her throat.
“Wiiiilllllooow!?”
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{subtle, uh? 
}
thanks for this, thought youd leave us high and dry with your story.
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