WR/TM: Thank you very much!
LonelyTara: I'm so glad you're enjoying it! I know it's pretty different from most of my other stuff
That line is most definitely referring to cheating on Oz... I'm basing this pretty much in canon... and I will never, ever write Willow cheating on Tara... It might kill me!
I'm glad you love it! Thank you, my friend! I hope you like this one! I'm getting better, but it's slow - I lost my voice again
abarda: Well, I'm glad you found it! I hope you like it! Thanks so much for reading!
Chapter 4 of 7
It started out as a feeling…
Willow blinked blearily as she woke up, sprawled facedown in the sheets. “Tara?” she asked, her neck popping loudly as she turned her head to look for her. The sound of paper crinkling drew her attention and her eyes focused on a sheet of paper that had been placed next to her face. She picked it up, squinting for a moment before Tara’s familiar handwriting swam into focus.
“You looked like you were sleeping good (finally!) so I left you to it. I’m downstairs whenever you wake up. Love you.”
The note was unsigned, but Willow didn’t need to see her name to know who it was from. She pushed herself up, groaning as her stiff joints creaked. A look at the clock revealed that it was after one in the afternoon. She stiffened, groaning as her muscles screamed in protest at the movement. She dragged herself into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face before getting dressed in silence, moving gingerly as she realized that her entire body felt like she’d spent hours being beaten to a pulp.
Tara was at the stove when she limped into the kitchen. The blonde took one look over her shoulder at Willow before abandoning her cooking and rushing to support her girlfriend, helping her onto a stool at the kitchen island. “Honey, you look awful,” Tara gasped, brushing her hair back tenderly.
“Gee, thanks,” Willow commented hoarsely, grimacing at her scratchy voice.
“Did you look in the mirror?” Tara countered immediately.
Willow shook her head, swallowing dryly. “Can I…?” Tara was moving before she finished the request, bringing a glass of water to her within a minute. Willow gulped it down, surprised how thirsty she was once she started drinking.
“You didn’t notice the side effects, did you?” Tara asked softly.
Willow nodded, grimacing at the ache in her neck. “Yeah, but I didn’t think they would be this bad,” she admitted.
“They aren’t if you only use it once,” Tara commented, holding one hand to Willow’s forehead, checking for a fever. She sighed, raking her fingers through Willow’s hair.
“I’ll be fine,” Willow said weakly, coughing on her water.
Dawn came into the kitchen just then, gaping in horrified surprise at Willow. “What happened to you?!?” she demanded. “Xander!”
He rushed into the kitchen, skidding to a halt behind Dawn and staring at Willow. “Whoa!”
“How come you didn’t say she got hurt?” Dawn asked, crossing thin arms over her chest.
“She didn’t!” Xander protested. “I haven’t even seen her in two days!”
“Two days?” Willow questioned groggily. “I saw you last night.”
Xander and Dawn exchanged looks before turning their heads simultaneously to look at Tara. “Sweetie, it’s Thursday,” she said softly. “You’ve been asleep since Monday night.”
Willow gaped at her, groaning. “What? How?”
Tara gave her a pointed look. “You know how.”
“How come she’s got black eyes?” Dawn demanded. “You guys didn’t fight, did you?”
Willow shook her head, groaning again. “No, of course not,” she answered. “I’m just an idiot. It was an accident.” Tara didn’t object and Willow sighed, her eyes falling to her lap.
Xander glanced between the witches, feeling the tension between them. “Well, I’m glad you woke up before you slept through your vacation,” he commented. “Hope your face gets better.” The girls all sent him simultaneous looks and he was quick to clarify. “Your eyes. Before you go on vacation.” They were all still staring at him and he bolted for the stove. “Is this lunch? Good,” he said without waiting for an answer. “I’ll just go put it on the table.” He dashed from the room without another word. Dawn followed him with an unsure smile, picking up on the tension between the witches.
Willow glanced up. “How mad are you?” she asked softly.
Tara sighed. “Don’t make me the bad guy, Willow.” She lifted Willow’s chin to meet her eyes and Willow could see how worried Tara had been, and still was, about her.
“Sorry,” she sighed. “I won’t do it again. The spell, I mean. And making you the bad guy. I didn’t mean to. I’ll figure out something else to stay awake,” she promised. Tara nodded, squeezing her eyes closed. “How did it go, the last two days?”
The blonde smiled ruefully. “Fine, Willow. The world won’t fall apart if you sleep regularly.”
“Two days straight isn’t regular, Tara,” Willow objected.
“It’s going to be regular from now on,” Tara stated firmly, pinning her with a look. “At least seven hours every night.” Willow closed her jaw with a click, nodding finally as her eyes dropped again. Tara let out a deep breath, nudging Willow’s knees apart gently and taking a step closer to stand between her legs. “Hey,” she prompted, drawing Willow’s eyes up. “I’ll be there with you,” she promised, smiling.
Willow stretched, curling her arms around Tara’s waist. “You promise? You’ll stay with me?” she asked, voice soft and deliberately childlike. She threw in a lip bite for good measure, knowing she was caught when Tara rolled her eyes. “Too much?” she asked, smirking.
“You goof,” Tara said, laughing. “Come here,” she prompted, hugging her gently. “How do you feel? Really? Any pain?”
“I’m pretty sore,” Willow agreed reluctantly. “And my head is kind of doing this throbby thing.”
Tara moved away from her before Willow could grab her, collecting some aspirin from a drawer and refilling the water glass before taking her spot back between Willow’s legs. “Here,” she prompted, holding the pills to her lover’s lips. “Take them,” she said as Willow gave her a look.
Willow swallowed the medicine reluctantly, leaning her forehead against Tara’s chest. “Thanks,” she whispered, sliding her hand down Tara’s arm. She frowned as her fingers encountered a freshly scabbed over scrape on her girlfriend’s arm, turning it over to look at it. “What happened here?” she asked, looking up at Tara.
“Oh, um, I fell,” Tara said, glancing down at it distractedly. “Nothing big.”
“Fell?” Willow demanded. “What do you mean, fell? Fell where?”
Tara shook her head, stroking her hand over the scratch. “Out on patrol.”
“Patrol?!?” Willow yelped. “You went on patrol? I was asleep, and you went on patrol
without me?”
Tara blinked, surprised. “Yeah…” she said slowly, not sure what Willow was yelping about.
Willow didn’t speak, grabbing Tara’s hand and pulling her into the dining room with her. Spotting Xander, she pointed at him firmly. “Hey! Who is responsible for this?” she demanded, pointing out the scratch. “Who took Tara out?”
He lifted both hands defensively. “Wasn’t me! Anya and I were here with you and Dawn.”
“Willow, stop it! I offered to go out,” Tara said, pulling back on her arm to bring her girlfriend to face her. She glanced over Willow’s shoulder where Xander was shrugging apologetically and she sighed, pulling Willow back into the kitchen. “Honey, what’s wrong?” Willow was staring down at the scratch and she mumbled something Tara couldn’t hear. “What?” Tara asked, lifting her chin with her free hand.
“Anything could have happened,” Willow said softly. “I wasn’t there to protect you, Tara.”
The blonde let out a huff of frustration, abruptly dropping Willow’s hand as she spun to face the counter. Willow was quick to press herself into Tara’s back. “You have to stop this,” Tara said, not reacting as Willow’s arms curled around her waist.
“Stop protecting you?” Willow asked, her voice soft as she breathed quietly into the back of Tara’s neck. “I can’t do that.”
“Stop thinking that you have to control everything,” Tara corrected her. “I
can take care of myself, Willow. I did it for eighteen years, I could do it again.” She squeezed her eyes closed as she spoke, her body stiff against Willow’s.
“Is that what you want?” Willow whispered.
“No!” Tara said sharply. “Stop taking everything in the worst possible way,” she said, her voice losing its strength as she relaxed against Willow. “You know I need you,” she said softly, feeling Willow’s lips drag against her skin as she nodded. “And I love you, Willow.” She turned in her arms. “But I hate all the stress you put on yourself. There’s no need. I went on patrol and
nothing happened.”
“But it could have!”
Tara stopped her with a kiss, not letting her withdraw, but pulling her closer and holding her face close as she deepened the kiss. They separated gradually, Willow’s eyes closed. “Nothing happened, Willow.” She smiled cautiously as Willow’s eyes opened. “As if Spike or Giles would let anything happen to me,” she reminded her.
“Not if they want to keep breathing,” Willow groused. “Or whatever Spike does,” she corrected herself, grimacing cutely as she tried to figure it out. Tara laughed, kissing between her eyes.
Her eyes widened as Willow yawned, and she smiled. “Sleepy?”
“Yes, actually,” Willow said, complaining tone obvious.
“Good,” Tara declared happily. “Back to bed with you,” she said, swatting Willow’s butt toward the stairs.
Willow didn’t move, pouting. “I can’t go back to bed,” she protested. “I just woke up after spending two days in bed. I have stuff to do.”
Tara sighed, hugging her. “Okay,” she relented reluctantly. “But no spells to stay awake. When you’re too tired, we’ll go to bed, alright?”
Willow nodded, already distracted. “Wait, ‘we?’” she asked, smiling hopefully.
Tara laughed, turning her head to press a kiss to her cheek. “Yes, ‘we,’” she agreed.
Willow yawned helplessly, leaning into her as Tara’s kisses moved across her neck. “So, where are we going on vacation?” she asked breathily.
Tara paused, lips still pressed against her skin. “I was expecting you to try and get out of going,” she confessed honestly, her voice quiet.
Willow sighed. “Tara…would you let me?”
“No,” Tara responded simply. “You need this, Willow.
We need this. It’s two days! Can you give me two days?”
“Yes,” the redhead agreed. “Anything, Tara.”
Tara sighed, lifting her head to meet Willow’s eyes. “Shh, I know you’re trying, sweetie. Thank you.”
Willow stretched, yawning again. “So, where are we going on vacation?” she asked, resting her head against Tara’s shoulder and curling her arms around her waist.
“L.A.,” Tara answered, rubbing her back gently. “Angel’s still out of town and Cordelia said we could stay at their hotel.” She sighed. “Sorry it’s not anything better. We’re kind of on a budget, and…”
“Tara, it’s perfect,” Willow interrupted without lifting her head. “It’s a non-Hellmouth city with you.”
Tara laughed, supporting Willow as the redhead leaned against her. “Honey, I think you’re going to pass out. You’re not even keeping your eyes open,” she said softly.
Willow jerked herself awake, groaning into Tara’s shoulder. “I’m awake,” she said, voice slurred. She straightened her back, blinking as she stood up, steadying herself with a hand on Tara’s arm. “I need to work on the bot. I’m behind schedule.” The spell that would give her the energy she needed was echoing in her brain, so simple and effective. One look at Tara’s face and she pushed it out of her head firmly, determined to do what Tara had asked of her.
Tara sighed, but didn’t argue. “Okay, baby. Once you get sleepy, though, we’ll go to bed, alright?”
“Okay,” Willow agreed on a yawn, smiling. “Hopefully I’ll be better company tonight.”
Tara shook her head, laughing softly. “As long as you’re there, I don’t mind at all if you’re asleep, Willow. It is our bed. That’s what you do in bed.”
“Not all we do,” Willow corrected her with an arched eyebrow. “Not all we used to do, anyway…”
Tara laughed again, stroking her fingers through the back of Willow’s hair. “Well, we
are going out of town for the weekend,” she reminded her. “And you’ve been asleep for the last two days…It’s been pretty lonely.”
Willow smirked. “Yeah, well I don’t want you to be lonely. You’re a beautiful woman. There’ll be a line around the block to take my place if I let you get away.”
Tara huffed, swatting her girlfriend’s arm. “You shush. You’re not easily replaced, my love.” She blinked, staring at Willow as the redhead’s smirk faded into something else. “Impossible really.”
Willow bit her lip, feeling her heart beat faster. It really had been too long since she’d shown Tara proper appreciation. She’d been so busy trying to put their lives back together that her life with Tara felt like it had been put on hold. She took a deep breath, feeling sudden sharp relief that it hadn’t fallen further apart while she had been so thoroughly distracted.
“Honey, Tara…” she started, voice low.
Tara shushed her, pulling her into a hug. “I know, Willow,” she agreed softly. Her head leaned against Willow’s. “Love you,” she whispered.
“I love you too,” Willow replied, curling her arms tighter around her girlfriend. Her fingers brushed the scrape on Tara’s arm and she sighed. “I wish I could take you away from all this,” she lamented softly.
Tara laughed quietly. “I know, baby. But this life, horrible as it is most of the time, you wouldn’t be who you are without it.” She pressed a kiss to Willow’s neck without lifting her face. “And I love who you are. And you could never walk away.” She squeezed her gently, pulling back slowly to meet her lover’s eyes. “And, sweetie, I would never ask you to,” she promised softly. “I just want you to be careful, Willow.”
The redhead could see Tara’s still present concern and wished she could make it vanish. “I know,” she assented quietly. “And I’ll try and stop acting like a spaz,” she added with a self deprecating smile.
Tara blinked, giving her a smile. “Now, baby, I’m not asking for miracles!” she said, laughing as Willow’s jaw dropped.
The redhead poked her side teasingly, wrapping her other arm more firmly around Tara as the blonde tried to squirm away. “I don’t think so!” Willow said, tickling her. They stumbled as they scuffled playfully, neither sure where the levity was coming from, but grateful for it nonetheless. They stopped as they ran into the kitchen island, both giggling helplessly.
Willow looked up as Xander cleared his throat from the doorway, seeing him and Dawn watching them. “Lunch is ready,” he commented, smiling at them in obvious relief. They had all noticed the growing tension Tara had been trying to hide during the two days Willow had been unconscious, obviously something to do with the redhead, but she’d been silent about the cause.
“Oh, yeah, we’re coming,” Willow agreed, glancing down as Tara took her hand. “Thanks, Xand.”
“Don’t thank me,” he said, pointing. “Tara made it.”
Willow grinned, arching an eyebrow with a helpless yawn as she looked at her girlfriend. “Thank you,” she said softly, the words meaning so much more than the simple phrase could convey. “Whatcha cookin’ good lookin’?” she asked with a smirk. “Or, rather, what
did you cook? Still the good looking part, though. Because you’re very good looking.”
Tara laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You can stop sucking up, sweetheart. I know you like me.”
Willow nodded, curling her arms around Tara’s waist. “I love you,” she corrected her. “And you’re a gorgeous woman.” Tara swatted lightly at her girlfriend’s arms, but Willow didn’t let go and Tara pulled her along toward the dining room, the redhead’s socks sliding on the floor.
Willow slid into her seat, pulling Tara down into her lap and turning them together to deliver Tara into the chair beside her, both laughing.
“Someone’s giddy,” Dawn commented, smiling with only a tinge of sadness tainting the expression. She couldn’t help feeling guilty about it, but she couldn’t stop herself from feeling glad that Willow and Tara had started to regain their normal life, even a life without Buffy. “Excited about vacation?” she asked as she passed a plate to Willow.
The redhead nodded, obviously eager. She bit her lip, glancing sidelong at Tara as she scooped food onto her plate. “Definitely,” she agreed around a mouthful of food. “What?” she questioned with her mouth full as Xander laughed and she caught Tara’s look. “I was asleep for two days. I’m starving!”
“You are too skinny,” Tara agreed, leaning over to press a kiss to her temple as she put another serving of food onto Willow’s plate.
Willow stuck her tongue out in defiance, but took another big bite. The others ate more slowly, each laughing at the redhead’s voracious appetite. Once the table was cleared of food, thanks in large part to Willow, they split into their normal routines. Xander met up with Spike and Giles for a patrol, Dawn took a seat in front of the TV, using it as an excuse to linger near where Willow was working on the Buffy-bot, getting a macabre sense of peacefulness around the robot. Tara cleaned up after their meal and joined Dawn on the couch, though the television was just a distraction from her focus on Willow.
The redhead was showing no new symptoms of pain, but her black eyes were settling in, dark and swollen, while the skin around her eyes was pale and surrounded by sickly yellow rings. Tara settled into the couch between Willow and Dawn, hand landing deliberately on Willow’s closer thigh, fingers moving slowly over her skin. She was looking at the television when Willow looked over at her, but the blonde’s fingers tightened briefly on her leg and Willow bit back a smile.
She managed to get some work done on the robot in spite of the distraction, but was yawning before the clock had reached double digits. Tara’s eyes snapped to her as soon as the yawn escaped and Willow chuckled quietly. “You don’t have to come,” she commented softly.
Tara shook her head. “I want to.”
“But it’s early. You can’t be tired,” Willow protested.
Tara glanced the other way where Dawn was still sitting and watching TV and she leaned in prudently, talking into Willow’s ear. “I want to come to bed with you, Willow,” she stated firmly.
“And of course you had to say it like that,” the redhead groaned quietly, laughing with a tired smile.
The blonde kissed her softly, one hand tucking red hair behind Willow’s ear. “Shh, just to sleep. Can I just hold you?” she asked, voice low. Willow nodded without speaking, swallowing thickly. “Thank you,” Tara said, smiling at her as Willow’s fingers slid through hers. “Dawnie, we’re going to bed. Don’t stay up too late, okay?” she prompted, giving Dawn a kiss on the cheek.
Willow groaned as she stood up, joints stiff and muscles sore from sitting still. She caught Tara’s sigh and straightened her spine slowly. Tara curled her arm around Willow’s waist supportively, the redhead leaning heavily on her. They moved slowly toward the stairs, Willow limping. Tara helped her up the stairs and onto a seat on the bed before closing the door to their room and collecting some clothes for Willow to sleep in.
The redhead blinked down at her as Tara dropped to her knees in between Willow’s legs, pulling her socks off slowly and rubbing her feet gently. Willow’s eyes dropped closed, a groan tearing from her throat. “Tara,” she gasped, holding herself up on shaky arms. “I thought we were going to bed.”
“We are,” Tara responded, her hands still moving over the tension she could feel in Willow’s feet. “Just relax, sweetheart.” She pressed a kiss to Willow’s knee, smiling against her skin. She looked up to see Willow’s eyes closed tightly, the redhead breathing deeply. “Let’s get you lying down,” she said, sliding her hands up both of Willow’s legs.
“I love when you say that,” Willow groaned, eyes still closed tightly and she smiled.
Tara laughed, one hand swatting at Willow’s hips. “Up,” she directed. “I’m going to take your pants off.”
“Mmh, that’s a good one too,” Willow said, voice low as she obeyed.
“Arms up,” Tara prompted next, sliding Willow’s shirt up over her head. She slid a t-shirt over her head and guided her down onto the sheets, pressing a kiss to Willow’s forehead. “I love you.”
Willow moaned happily, one hand finding Tara’s arm. “And there’s my favorite,” she breathed softly. Her eyes blinked open slowly. “Thank you,” she whispered, yawning.
Tara nodded, brushing one finger across the deep bruised shadows under Willow’s eyes. “How are you feeling?”
Willow thought it over, snuggling into the sheets. “Achy,” she yawned.
“Do you want more medicine?” Tara asked.
Willow shook her head. “No, thank you. I just want to be snuggled.” She sighed, glancing away. “And I kind of deserve what I get, don’t I?”
Tara slipped her fingers over Willow’s mouth, sitting next to her on the bed. “Honey…I was mad, but I would
never want you to be in pain. You know that, right?”
Willow nodded. “I know that,” she whispered.
“You don’t have to punish yourself, sweetie,” Tara whispered. “Just be careful, okay?” she requested, brushing her hand over Willow’s face. “Do you want some medicine?” she asked again. Willow nodded quietly and Tara retrieved some aspirin from their bathroom. Willow took it quietly and watched as Tara changed into her pajamas and joined her in the bed. The redhead snuggled back into her lover, Tara’s arms curling tightly around her waist. She pressed a kiss behind Willow’s ear, breathing deeply.
“Thank you for cuddling with me,” Willow whispered softly.
Tara laughed, feeling Willow’s hand stroke gently down her arm, entwining their fingers. “Of course.”
“I hope it’s not too boring for you,” Willow said around a yawn. “I don’t think I can stay awake much longer…”
Tara shook her head against Willow’s. “Go ahead. I could never be bored holding you, Willow.” She heard Willow’s unintelligible reply, a soft mumble as the redhead relaxed fully against her, being dragged inexorably to sleep. Tara pushed her anxious worry for Willow to the back of her mind, focusing instead on her girlfriend’s presence in her arms. They were still in a bad situation, but it would get better. And all that mattered at the moment was that Willow was with her and sleeping peacefully.
Willow woke up as Tara jerked behind her several hours later, caught in the throes of a nightmare. The redhead jumped as her girlfriend hit her unintentionally, turning quickly to catch her hands. “Tara! Honey, wake up. I’m right here,” she said, struggling to hold her wrists. “Tara, wake up!”
The blonde’s eyes shot open suddenly and Tara gasped a name that sent Willow’s blood running suddenly icy in her veins. Tara was sweating and she jerked her arms from Willow’s grip, not appearing to see Willow as she bolted from the bed. Willow could hear her being sick in the bathroom and she kicked furiously at the sheets that had somehow entwined themselves around her feet.
Tara was leaning over the toilet on her knees, and Willow pulled her hair back gently, stroking her back soothingly with the other hand. Tara continued to be sick until she had nothing left, choking and spitting the last bitter remnants of her dinner. Her hand scrabbled blindly to flush, but she didn’t move to stand up, leaning against the base of the cabinet instead and breathing deeply as she tried to catch her breath.
Willow wet a towel in the sink and dropped to her knees in front of Tara, using the washcloth to wipe tears from her face gently. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly. Tara nodded, not speaking. There was fear haunting her eyes and Willow swallowed thickly. “You said her name,” she said after a moment of hesitation.
“I know,” Tara choked out hoarsely, grimacing. “Can you get me some water?” she requested.
Willow nodded, standing up to run the tap. She looked down worriedly as Tara pushed off of her leg to lean back over the bowl, dry heaving helplessly. Willow left the water running and dropped behind her, rubbing her back anxiously, frustrated at how little she could do to help.
After several long minutes, Tara leaned back weakly, cradled immediately by Willow. “I’ve got you, Tara. I’m right here,” she breathed soothingly. One hand scrabbled blindly on the counter for the water glass, spilling a little as she bumped it. Tara sipped it slowly, waiting to see if her stomach would revolt against the liquid, but she drank faster as she managed to keep it down. Willow curled one hand around to stroke lightly over Tara’s stomach. “Bad one?”
Tara nodded, leaning back against her and burrowing her face into Willow’s neck. “Yes.” She sighed heavily. “They had been getting better.”
Willow took a deep breath, hesitant to bring up the nightmare that had so thoroughly shaken Tara. “Are you going to be sick again?” she asked instead.
“No,” Tara said softly. “I don’t think so.”
“Do you want some crackers or something to settle your stomach?” Willow asked considerately, already tensing to move before Tara’s hands landed on either of her legs, holding her where she was.
“S-stay with me,” Tara requested, voice shaking.
Willow frowned, leaning forward for a glimpse of Tara’s face. “Sweetheart, you’re crying,” she gasped. She turned Tara by her shoulders to face her, wiping the tears from her face gently, hesitating to kiss her. She pulled Tara back into her arms, hugging her as Tara started sobbing into her chest. “Shh, honey. It’s okay. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it. I promise. You just have to tell me what’s wrong and I promise I’ll fix it.”
Tara’s fingers tightened in Willow’s shirt, clinging to her. “Willow…” Her lover’s name was all that she could force out, and she squeezed her eyes closed tightly. “I don’t know…I don’t think you
can fix this.”
Willow shook her head, letting out a deep breath. “Tell me what happened, Tara,” Willow prompted. “You know I’ll do anything for you.”
Tara sniffled back tears, fingers clenched tight in Willow’s t-shirt. She didn’t, couldn’t, speak for a long while, choking back tears as she tried to calm down. Visions from her nightmares floated behind her eyelids - Buffy and Glory, an endless hell.
Hell didn’t look like what people supposed it did, or what it was described like in books. There wasn’t a lake of fire, at least not in the hell she’d been trapped in, the one in her mind. The one she had seen in her nightmare, where Buffy had been trapped, endlessly fighting, didn’t look like any hell she’d ever heard of either. However, Anya was fond of reminding them that there were countless hell dimensions. It wasn’t a surprise that there was one she wasn’t familiar with.
“It wasn’t real,” she whispered, forcing her fingers to relax. “It couldn’t have been real.”
Willow swallowed, but choked down her anxious questions. “Honey, let’s get you back in bed,” she directed. “We can talk, if you want,” she offered hesitantly.
Tara shook her head, leaning back from Willow’s shoulder to drink some more water, wiping her mouth on the bottom of a towel. “No,” she breathed, pushing herself up shakily with both hands. Willow steadied her, stung when Tara shook her hands off, stumbling out of the bathroom.
The redhead followed her slowly, lingering at the foot of the bed as Tara climbed into it, still sniffling. Tara curled herself under the blankets, wiping her sticky face. Willow retreated back to the bathroom, finding her wet washcloth and bringing it back to the bed. She sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, brushing hair back from Tara’s face. “Let me,” she whispered, cleaning her lover’s face gently.
Tara rolled onto her back, eyes closed as she breathed deeply. She didn’t speak and Willow sighed as she returned the washcloth to the bathroom once she finished. Tara’s eyes were still closed and Willow hesitated before retreating back to her side of the bed, her back to Tara.
The uncomfortable tension stretched, broken finally as Tara’s tears returned, the blonde trembling as she sobbed. Willow turned over quickly, pulling her back into her arms. “Shh, I’m right here. Baby, I’m right here.”
Tara turned in her arms to curl into her chest, crying bitterly. “It was Buffy,” she gasped. “Buffy was there.”
“Shh,” Willow hushed her. “We can talk in the morning, okay? Shh…”
Tara seemed to accept that, whimpering as she clung to Willow. She hiccupped, trying desperately to regain control. “T-thank y-you.”
“Sweetheart, of course,” Willow breathed. “I’m right here. Anything you need.”
“D-don’t l-let g-go,” Tara requested, hating the shaking in her voice, but unable to stop it.
Willow shook her head, raking her fingers through Tara’s hair. “Never going to happen,” she promised softly.
It took a long time for Tara to calm down, trembling even after her tears slowed and stopped. She was still shaking after she fell asleep, breathing in gasps and whimpers. Willow tried to follow her, but the tantalizing hints Tara had gasped made it difficult, her blood still running fast in her veins. As far as Tara had shared, Buffy had never been in her dreams, only her father and brother and Willow herself, with guest appearances by Glory. And the dreams hadn’t affected her like this in weeks.
Even as she lay beside her and watched, Tara let out a gasp, her hands gripping Willow’s shirt tightly before relaxing. Tara’s burrowed her face closer to Willow’s shoulder, the redhead curling her arm more securely around her girlfriend. She was greatly tempted to do a quick spell and gain the energy to stay awake, but for the night at least, it wasn’t to work on the bot, but rather to lay exactly where she was and watch over Tara’s turbulent sleep. She already knew what Tara would say about that and she forced the spell from her mind, closing her eyes deliberately and trying to drag herself to sleep.
She couldn’t remember how long it took for it to actually work, but her face was buried in blonde hair when she woke. She lifted her head slowly, Tara still asleep in her arms. The sun was up outside the window and she settled wearily back into the pillows. She wasn’t sure if it was because of what had happened the night before, but she’d been dreaming about Buffy. One arm pulled back to curl over her eyes as she released a deep breath.
Tara stirred as she moved, turning with her to look at her and unintentionally pinning Willow’s other arm underneath her. She didn’t speak, not sure what to say. “Do you still want to go?” Willow asked.
It took Tara a second to realize that Willow had spoken. “What?” she asked, grimacing at her rough voice. She cleared her throat, reaching over to rub her eyes.
“We’re supposed to go to L.A. today,” Willow reminded her, letting her arm drop. “Do you think we should go?”
Tara sighed, shrugging minutely. “Why wouldn’t we?” she asked quietly.
“Tara, you haven’t… It hasn’t been like that in a while,” Willow said hesitantly.
The blonde took a shuddering breath. “I know,” she sighed. “Willow, I…I know that.” She looked sideways at her girlfriend. “And I know this weekend was supposed to be about getting you some time off, but I think I might need some time off too.”
Willow nodded quickly, her hand finding Tara’s and squeezing soothingly. “Tara, of course! Of course it can be about you, baby!”
“Can it be about
us?” Tara asked her, interrupting.
Willow swallowed thickly, nodding. “Yeah,” she agreed hoarsely. “Even better.” She hesitated, turning onto her side. “Tara…”
“I can’t talk about it, Willow,” Tara interrupted again. “Not right now. Please?” she asked. “I just want it to be peaceful right now. With you.”
Willow nodded again, moving closer to her. “Okay,” she agreed softly. “Peaceful. I can do peaceful.”
“You don’t have to do anything, Willow,” Tara reminded her. “You’re enough. Don’t you get that by now? You’re all I need. Just you…here, in reach, with me.”
The redhead let out a deep breath, swallowing thickly. “I’m right here. We’ll get packed, and we’ll go, I swear,” she promised. Tara nodded without speaking, sliding closer to her and tucking herself more firmly into her girlfriend’s arms.
“Can we just stay like this? Just for a little while?” Tara requested, her head finding its spot on her girlfriend’s shoulder.
Willow nodded, leaning her head against Tara’s. “So, what do you want to do when we get to L.A.?” she asked, changing the subject to something safe and not related to the Slayer at all.
Tara shrugged, watching her hand play with the edge of Willow’s shirt. “Anything is fine with me,” she said listlessly.
Willow sighed, practically feeling her world falling apart again while she laid there and could do nothing to stop it. “Can I take you to dinner tonight?” she asked, trying to hold back her hopeful tone.
“Sure,” Tara agreed, voice small. “That will be nice.”
Willow sucked in a breath, holding it for a long moment, feeling it shudder as she released it. “Yeah…nice,” she said tiredly. She let her fingers slide into blonde hair, taking another deep breath, savoring the familiar scent of Tara’s hair.
Tara could feel the tension radiating from Willow, but couldn’t muster the words to describe what she’d seen in her latest nightmare, Buffy alone and fighting in an endless hell. She knew it was probably the wrong decision, but she couldn’t help wanting to hold onto the peace she could manage for as long as possible. Even as she lay there though, she could feel it slipping away. She knew what Willow would do when she learned what Tara had seen in her dream, the lengths it would drive her to.
If Willow thought there was any chance that Buffy was alive, alive and trapped in Glory’s hell dimension fighting for her life, there was no limits to what the redhead would push herself towards. But if Buffy really was trapped, holding her tongue could cost the Slayer her life. She couldn’t see how the dream could be real though. She’d been connected to Glory after the goddess had stolen her sanity, but that had been reversed months ago. She couldn’t see how she’d still be connected to the absent goddess. The longer she went without telling Willow, the worse it would become though.
“Honey, about last night,” she started, voice hoarse.
She didn’t speak again, and Willow picked up the sentence. “You said Buffy’s name,” she reminded her girlfriend gently.
“I did,” Tara replied, her fingers tightening in Willow’s shirt, keeping her eyes down. “That’s because she was there, in my dream.”
“Have you ever dreamed about her before?” Willow asked, biting her lip. “I won’t be jealous. Buffy’s very beautiful,” she attempted the joke half-heartedly.
Tara gave her the requisite swat to the stomach for her effort, shaking her head against Willow’s shoulder. “No, she’s never been there before.”
“Were you there? Last night? You and Buffy?” Willow asked curiously.
“No,” Tara answered. “It was just her.” She swallowed, taking a shuddering breath. “She was alone, in hell, fighting.” She closed her eyes, fingers squeezing tighter in Willow’s shirt. “Willow, it had to be a dream, right? It can’t be real.”
Willow took a deep breath of her own, squeezing gently. “I don’t know,” she whispered brokenly. “Was…did you see Glory?” she asked softly, sure that seeing the bitch goddess wouldn’t have given Tara warm, fuzzy feelings.
Tara blinked, curling closer to Willow unconsciously. “She was there,” she whispered.
“Aww, baby, is that why you got sick?” Willow asked tenderly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Tara nodded, squirming her toes in between Willow’s calves. The redhead took the hint and curled her leg over Tara’s. “I’m right here, sweetheart. She’ll never touch you again, I promise.”
“She’s dead, isn’t she?” Tara asked weakly. “I mean, Giles…Giles said…he said she was gone, that it was t-taken care o-of.”
“I’ll talk to him, don’t worry. If he said she’s gone, she’s gone. He wouldn’t lie, not about that,” Willow promised earnestly. “I’m going to take care of you, Tara. No matter what.”
“I know that,” Tara agreed. “She’s gone. I know it. I’d know if she was still in there.”
Willow swallowed, breathing deeply against her lover’s hair. “Good. She doesn’t need to be anywhere near your brain. All your thinking about me should be private.” She squeezed her eyes closed, knowing that it wasn’t the time to joke, but she was trying to wrap her head around the idea that Buffy might be trapped in a hell dimension. It was something she’d thought of before, but the idea was too horrible. Buffy had given her life protecting people, the world, and if she had ended up in hell… She had to get her out. That was all there was to it.
Tara laughed weakly, obviously mustered with an effort. “That’s right,” she agreed. “All mine,” she murmured, sliding her arm across Willow’s stomach and holding her tighter.