Sooo.... it's been a while since this fic was updated (circa 2004). I wonder if 13 years is some kind of a record?
If it is, it's certainly not a good one. I can't figure out where in the Hell the time went either... life, I suppose... but I digress. I have tried working on this fic many times throughout the years but I was never able to really pick it back up and my sincere, deepest apologies to all of those who got invested in this fic only to find it left incomplete. I am so sorry for that.
I
really, really, really want to finish this fic but my muse is notorious for taking leave ... for decades at a time apparently... so I can't promise that I'll be able to see it through
(which is why I'm leaving it in the unfinished archives & not re-posting it) Unless i have to move/re-post it, Mods? That being said, a recent photo shoot (swoon) has me re-watching BtVS and falling in love with our girls all over again.
And, I do have several chapters already written and an ending plotted out, since I forgot the last one, so I actually have high hopes of being able to actually finish it. Here's hoping.
THE WISH -- Part Unknown
The young blonde woman reached up to rub her aching neck. Carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders could give you the worst crick in the neck. She was beyond tired and everyone else in the house was sleeping but it just wouldn't come for the slayer.
Question after question and scenario after scenario bombarded her mind about Tara's return to them. Mostly she hoped that the gentle blonde wouldn't experience the same things that she did when she returned. Buffy was also more then a little worried as to what Tara's reaction was going to be when she found out what had happened and how. Everything was different now.
How would the gentle blonde feel about learning that she was brought back from the dead? Or that she had died in the first place? And how will she react when she learns about Willow's plunge into the darkest of places – not to mention murder.
Life was never easy for the Slayer of her faithful Scoobies.
Buffy approached the door quietly. Noticing it was slightly ajar she stepped forward and pushed the door gently until she was able to see into the room. Her eyes fell first to the bed where Willow and Dawn were asleep, each respectively curled around a pillow and their exhaustion easily noticeable.
Her eyes then moved slightly to the left and spotted Tara standing in front of the window with her hand touching the glass. The pane had been replaced but she knew that somehow the blonde witch was able to feel something.
Tara glanced up and caught the slayers eyes in the reflection of the glass. The knowing in the crystal blue eyes was apparent.
"You should be asleep," Buffy tried.
"This room echoes of pain."
"A little Feng Shui will probably fix that up in no time," offered the slayer who wished she was anywhere else in the world right now.
"I know what happened, Buffy."
"Oh."
"But I want you to tell me."
Buffy shook her head and cast a glance at the sleeping redhead, "Tara, I can't."
The blonde turned around and pinned the slayer with a soul piercing gaze, "I know what I feel happened but I don't know why or how and a lot is missing. I need you to tell me."
"Tara, I think Willow wants to be the one-"
"I'm standing in the spot where I died, Buffy. The auras of death, pain and violence are so thick that I can hardly breathe. Willow is fragmented and touched with a darkness beyond what it ever was… She can't tell me."
Moments passed and the gaze only intensified.
"Please?" Tara whispered finally breaking the silence.
"Can we do it with drinks?" Buffy returned equally soft.
Tara dipped her head in agreement and stopped by the bed to pull the covers up around Dawn. The teen fussed slightly so the young blonde ran her fingers through the brown hair to keep her asleep.
Dawn adjusted her position and mumbled sleepily.
"Go back to sleep, Sweetie," the blonde whispered as she continued to comb her fingers through the mouse brown hair. The exhausted teen relaxed under the touch and drifted into a deep sleep once again.
"Tara?" Willow mumbled as she fought against sleep.
The young blonde moved to the other side of the bed and caressed a pale cheek, "I'm here, Love, go back to sleep."
"Un'kay," Willow mumbled as she curled her body against her lovers. Tara sat with the redhead for several more minutes before she stood and nodded to Buffy who was still standing in the doorway.
Buffy didn't bother trying to smile and just started quietly towards the kitchen with the silent blonde in tow. If she was going to do this she would definitely need coffee ... maybe with some liquor in it.
* * * * *
Buffy was leaning against the counter and she raised her cup towards the blonde sitting at the table, "You sure you don't want any?"
"No, thank you."
Buffy sighed heavily and then moved to sit beside Tara at the table. "I know you want to hear what went down, Tara. You have every right to know but I want you to know that I am very not happy about being the one to tell you. I feel like I'm ambushing my best friend here."
It was Tara's turn to sigh, "Buffy, I didn't ask you to tell me because I thought Willow would lie to me. Just the opposite actually. Willow would have been brutally honest in her telling it – in her reliving it."
"And that means?"
"That means that I don't want my lover to have to recount and relive my death by giving me a play-by-play."
Buffy tilted her head as she thought about poor Willow explaining to Tara how she held her in her arms as her life slipped away. She thought about it and decided immediately that the blonde was right.
"Okay," Buffy began, "Not that I want to have to relive it either but better me then Willow having to go there." Tara nodded in agreement and Buffy hesitated as to what she was about to say next. "Uh, Tara…You see… there is kinda more to the story than just you… being away."
"Would that 'kinda more' kinda involve the darkness I see every time I look at Willow?"
Buffy looked as uncomfortable as Anya's bridesmaids did in those hideous dresses, "Uh, kinda yeah."
Tara ran a weary hand over her forehead, "Buffy, whatever happened was major, I get that. It was devastating and traumatic and violent and ugly… that's kinda how it goes with dark magic. I can't say what my reaction to hearing about it is going to be. It's not something I can control. I don’t want Willow to see pain or disappointment on my face… it would only hurt her more."
"And you don't think us going behind her back might hurt her?"
The blonde sighed, "It might. But this is the way I need to do it and I'm not going to hide it."
"Tara, I don't think-"
"Buffy," she interrupted, "I want you to tell me but if you won't, or can't, then I'll ask Giles. I can't hear it from Willow without bracing for the impact first, okay?"
A cropped blonde head dropped to her chest and the slayer sighed. "What's the last thing you remember?" she asked when she finally looked up.
* * * * *
Tara sat on the porch swing swaying softly with one leg curled up under her. Her elbow sat on the arm of the swing and her chin rested in her hand. Troubled blue eyes were fixed on the children playing in the street and she sighed.
Hearing of first your death and then your resurrection could put one in a strange mood. Add into that equation your lover watching you be killed and then embracing the darkest of forces for comfort. Of course the rampage and murdering didn't exactly shine any light onto the situation either.
Tara found herself swimming in a myriad of emotions. She could sense everyone's pain around her and she felt the sadness welling up in her. She was sad but she was also angry. She was angry at the whole situation… at the cruelty of it all. There was anger, sadness, grief and to some degree… relief.
Tara hadn't moved much that morning which was now making its way towards afternoon. She had turned over everything that the slayer had told her and tried to decide how to feel about it and what, if anything, to do about it. And since she didn't remember dying or being resurrected she decided to just file it away without attaching any emotional resonance to it.
Willow's actions however weren't that simple. When the slayer first related the story of what had happened Tara's first response was disbelief which was immediately followed by anger and now that she had time to think it over and look at it from Willow's perspective … she was sad.
Yes, she had warned the redhead about the dangers of tampering with the dark arts. She even ended their relationship because she couldn't watch Willow slowly destroy herself. Even the termination of the relationship wasn't enough to curb Willow's use of magics, at first anyway. Eventually, the redhead was able to see what was happening and she stopped using magic; at least until she watched her girlfriend die.
But Willow didn't just jump back into the dark magics, she got lost in it. It's no wonder things ended in destruction and death. No matter what angle you looked at it; Willow killed someone and there was no erasing that.
Tara sighed deeply. She considered how grief stricken Willow must have been to take the route she did. How desperate Willow must have been to want to stop the pain she was experiencing. And now, how guilty she must feel about the whole thing.
Tara sighed again; the whole situation just didn't make any sense to her. Willow wasn't the kind of person who lashed out in a serial killer fashion. She wasn't a kill first and ask questions later kind of person. She's a not kill at all person. The blonde witch knew that if anything had happened and Willow had died in her arms that her first reaction wouldn’t be revenge – she would be far too grief stricken. Like Willow should have been. So why then did she lash out in such a way. After all, she didn't just kill Warren, she also went after all of her friends and cast concern for innocent people to the breeze.
Their relationship was very special to both young women and they loved each other dearly… but to be able to live without each other wasn't impossible. Horrible yes, impossible no. Living in a place as dangerous as the Hellmouth one learns to accept not only their mortality but also that of those around them. Tara knew that if something happened to Willow that she would never fall in love again but she wouldn't end her own life either. She certainly wouldn't try and destroy the world and everyone around her. No, there was something there.
Tara frowned. Surely something had to have been influencing Willow – there just had to be. There simply couldn't be any other explanation. Something must have tapped into her while she was tapping into the dark. Maybe it was like when they brought Buffy back, something must have came along for the ride. Tapping into dark forces isn't the wisest thing to do but dabbling once or twice usually meant that one; you didn't have enough power to delve further or two; you weren't smart enough to heed the warnings that were given when you did.
It wasn't that Willow wasn't smart enough to heed the warnings because she didn't jump right in at first, she didn't even want to. It was more like she needed to use the magic to help save lives and fight dark forces. A few dark spells here and there will give the appearance of helping, but in the long run the user was actually helping the dark. And the thing that Tara understood but Willow seemed to miss was that dark magic and evil went hand-in-hand. One can't destroy the other because they're one in the same.
It was a story as old as the hills and one that Tara had heard before. You tap into the dark while the darkness taps into you. And that must have been what had happened with Willow. She had been delving into the dark magics so much and so often that something finally tapped into her. It would have been easy to manipulate her while she was being driven by profound loss and a great anger.
So, did something manipulate Willow. But why? What for? And more importantly, was it still and Tara just couldn't see it? If it still was, what were they going to do about it? Regardless of what Willow's reasons or motivations were Tara knew that her lover was still going to suffer from guilt and regret. That couldn't be changed and that was something else she had to figure out how to help Willow deal with it.
And then there was Spike. She didn't even know where to begin to try and feel about him sacrificing himself to save her.
Several of the neighborhood kids that were playing in the street finally noticed the blonde sitting on the Summers' porch and they scrambled over to her. The pretty blonde lady was the best magician that they had ever seen. She was so cool – she could float things!
"Hi Tara."
"Hi."
"Watcha' doin?"
Tara gave the kids a soft smile, "Just thinking. And watching you guys play. Good job."
"Did you see my touchdown?" asked Teena, the block's little tomboy, and future butch according to Anya.
"I sure did, that was a great catch and a great throw; pretty soon you'll have your own team I think," she spoke kindly to the kids.
"You could be our cheerleader," Isaac piped up and Patrick nodded.
Teena frowned, "No way!"
"She's way too old to play," considered Isaac, "She's like 20 or something."
Tara couldn’t help it, she laughed. "I don't think that 20 is too old to play but I'm not really the cheerleader type anyway."
She was met with three frowns as they tried to figure out what role she could play then.
"How about, I be the team magician instead?"
"Yeah!"
"Cool."
"Show us a trick, please?"
Tara smiled again, she would have to figure out how to save the world later, "Okay, but just one."
* * * * *
Dawn walked out onto the porch just as the kids were heading down the steps and back to do whatever it is that kids do she guessed. They paused long enough to give her a quick wave which she returned before moving towards the blonde on the swing.
Tara looked up to find Dawn standing next to her. She made no move to sit down and she didn't say anything, she was just standing there… staring at her.
The girl's eyes moved up and down Tara's form as if she was checking to make sure that she had been returned correctly and that everything was in its proper place. Tara said nothing until Dawn's eyes met hers and the blonde reached out a hand.
Dawn slid her hand into Tara's and squeezed. The older woman squeezed her hand back and gave a slight tug, indicating the teen to take the seat beside her. Tara knew that Dawn needed to be close to her, almost as much as Willow needed to, and she welcomed the girl close.
The teen sat down on the swing and immediately pulled Tara's arm across her and hugged it. Tara responded by giving the knee beneath her hand a gentle squeeze.
"Did you sleep well, Sweetie?"
Dawn rested her head on her shoulder and nodded.
Tara glanced at the subdued teen, "Are you all right?"
Another nod.
The young witch was about to question her further when she felt hot tears pelting the exposed skin of her shoulder where her sweater had slid down. Tara turned sideways on the swing, cupped the teens face in her hands and wiped away the falling tears with her thumbs.
"What is it, Sweetie?"
More tears welled in the brown eyes, "You weren't there when I woke up. That used to happen with my mom … and Buffy. I thought I only dreamed that you came back.."
"Oh Dawnie," Tara pulled her into a tight hug, "I'm not going anywhere."
"You were dead," she hiccupped as she choked out the words, "I saw your body and I… I..."
Tara closed her eyes in sadness as she thought about what her young charge must have gone through. The blonde witch rocked the teen in her arms and she hummed softly.
"I'm so sorry, Dawnie," Tara murmured when the teen finally calmed some. "I'm here and I don't plan on going anywhere. I'm here."
Dawn burrowed further into the embrace and let herself be rocked like a child. It was several long minutes later when the teen slid out of the embrace but only enough to curl up on the swing and rest her head in the blonde's lap.
Tara reached down and ran her fingers through Dawn's hair. The poor kid. In reality, she may have been a very mature teenager who had lived through more than a dozen adults ever had or would. But lately though, the abuse that life had been handing to the kid made her seem so much younger; so innocent and vulnerable. The young girl had been through so much in her young life – it was amazing that she was still sane.
Dawn reached up and snagged Tara's right hand. The blonde witch tended to wear shirts with sleeves that fell over her hands and the teen pushed the fabric out of the way. She felt Tara tense slightly when she started running her fingers over the multitude of scars on the delicate digits. The scars, she knew, were from the series of surgeries the witch needed to repair the damage that Glory had inflicted upon her. While she was protecting me. The exact number of screws and plates it took to repair the hand was known only to Tara, and probably Willow, and neither were willing to share that number with the teen. 'Now I have a cool terminator hand,' was all Tara would ever say, usually before crossing her arms and removing the appendage in question from sight, before quickly changing the subject.
The teen knew that Tara's hand would ache occasionally, usually before chilly or rainy days, and when she would see the witch rubbing her knuckles she would know to grab a sweater or an umbrella. Dawn also knew that the scars and the ache were a constant reminder of the ordeal she suffered at Glory's hands, literally, and the high school freshman suspected that was the reason that the witch had taken to wearing a ring on her pinky that her mother had given her. Something positive to counteract the negative and Dawn's fingertips left the scars and moved to fiddle with the intricate stones of the ring.
"Do you think it will ever be over?" the girl asked, her voice scratchy from crying.
Tara continued to run the fingers of her left hand through the brown hair, "Do I think what will ever be over?"
Dawn rolled onto her back and looked up into concerned and loving eyes, "All of it. Vampires, demons, the slaying. Do you think we'll ever be able to just live normal lives?"
Tara's heart was breaking. The poor girl had been through so much and she flat out accepted it – but now all she was asking for was life, to live. How was Tara supposed to tell her that there would be dark forces as long as there were forces of light? Or, that it was likely that their lives would be spent fighting it.
"I didn't think so," Dawn answered for her in a flat tone.
"Dawn, I don't know what to say," Tara replied honestly. "I want to say that one day we’ll all be living happily ever after somewhere but I can't promise you that. Yes, we live every day with the risk of losing our lives … But my mom taught me that it's not how long you live, but how well you live. And I know that that's not what you wanted to hear and it may not be very comforting… but that's the truth."
Dawn looked into understanding eyes. One of the reasons that she was so drawn to the young blonde woman was because of her honesty. Tara never made her feel left out or talked down to her like she was just a kid. Tara managed to be not only a friend but also a surrogate mother.
"I can't lose you again," the teen said bluntly.
"You'll never lose me, Dawnie… you're a part of me forever."
* * * * *
Buffy sighed softly as she stepped away from the front door and back into the house. She had heard Dawn crying and made her way to investigate but was brought up short when she found her kid sister being cradled like a child by the blonde witch. She didn't mean to stay and eavesdrop on their private conversation but she couldn't bring herself to move away.
Tara really was like a mother to Dawn. How could a young woman who grew up in such a terrible environment grow up to be so gentle and kind? So maternal? Hell, Dawn wasn't that much younger than herself or the witch but, it was the role she assumed without thought or hesitation.
Dawn, the slayer knew, unintentionally looked to Tara as a mother figure. It's who she went to for comfort, for her needs and for approval. It had unnerved Buffy at first that her sister would go to the young witch to see if she was allowed to do something or go somewhere, as opposed to asking her that is. Dawn looked to Tara for guidance and for permission and the teen could often be heard pleading her case if she was denied. Sometimes, Tara would reconsider and Dawn would bounce with excitement. Other times, the witch stood firm and the teen would pout, while trying to give the appearance of not doing so.
Buffy looked back at recent events and thought about her heated debates with the teen, the slamming of doors and the lying and sneaking out and the slayer sighed. She didn't recall when it happened, but at a certain point, the slayer found herself directing the teen to the witch when Dawn would seek permission for something. That action would usually frustrate the teen because it generally meant thwarting her plan of asking her sister and then disregarding the answer and doing what she wanted anyway. Because, the slayer acknowledged, when the teen was forced to ask Tara… she couldn't bring herself to circumvent what the witch told her. Dawn always accepted the blonde's decisions no matter how much she wanted to go against them. Probably couldn't bear to see disappointment in Tara's eyes, Buffy thought.
"Do you think it will ever be over?" she heard Dawn ask.
Buffy shook herself out of her musings and turned her attention back to the scenario her sister was posing for the young witch. She had mentioned something similar to Giles not more then two days ago when they were in Africa. The teenager wasn't the only one tired of dealing with losing her friends and family on a regular basis. There wasn't anything she could do about it – but that's the way it was.
The slayer made her way quietly up the steps and approached Tara and Willow's room where the redhead was still asleep. Standing in another doorway, the young blonde warrior looked at one her of her best friends in the world, Willow Rosenberg.
Buffy thought back to their high school days and remembered the innocent, young redhead who had offered her friendship so freely. Since then, Willow began to grow in so many ways and so quickly. She became more confident, more assertive and more powerful; the nerdy high school girl had grown into an attractive woman.
The Slayer frowned, and thanks to me she also grew into a dark magic addicted murderer.
"Does life ever so suck," Buffy sighed, forced herself away from her musings and then reached up to knock on the door frame, "Willow?"
The redhead came awake with a jerk and her eyes immediately started scanning the room.
Looking for Tara, no doubt. The slayer thought. Still not sure that she's real.
"It's okay," said Buffy quickly as she walked into the bedroom to reassure her friend. "Tara's downstairs with Dawn."
Willow looked at her suspiciously for a moment before nodding, climbing out of bed and trying to make her way downstairs.
"Wait," said the slayer as she blocker her path. "I have to tell you something."
Immediately alarmed, "Tara?"
"She's fine, everything's fine," Buffy supplied quickly. "I promise." Willow still looked a little panicked and the blonde squeezed her shoulder to calm her.
"She's really back? Nothing's wrong?"
"She is really back and she's totally fine."
The witch released a relieved breath and she dropped down to sit on the bed, "So tell me."
Buffy sat down beside her friend as stared at the floor. "Tara asked me to tell her what happened."
Willow nodded solemnly.
"She didn't seem mad or even too freaked out," offered the slayer. "She just listened and asked a couple of questions. Then she thanked me, gave me hug and said she needed some time to think about things."
"She probably hates me."
"She doesn't hate you."
"I could never hate you, Willow," came a soft voice from the doorway.
The blonde and redhead snapped their gazes to the woman in the doorway.
"Tara," squeaked Buffy.
The witch seemed to ignore the slayer and moved into the room and knelt before her girlfriend and rested her hands on her knees. "I love you, Willow. I could never hate you… not ever."
The red head shook negatively unable to agree. She kept her eyes down refusing to look at the blonde, afraid of what she would find there, "You have to hate me. Even I hate me. I don't deserve for you to love me."
Tara glanced over at an uncomfortable looking slayer, "Buffy, could you-"
"Yes, right," she stepped back. "I'm gonna go … do a … thing," she said as she moved quickly out of the room.
The blonde watched as the slayer slipped out of the room and shut the door. "I love you Willow," she said softly as she used her fingers to tilt up her lover's chin so she could make eye contact. She was met with sad, teary eyes and she continued to speak gently, "I love you and nothing will ever change that. Okay?"
The redhead swallowed hard and nodded.
"We have a lot to talk about," said Tara as she took her lover's hands in her own, "and we will. But first, you need to do a purging. We can't go to the creek so I'm going to set up the bathroom."
"Tara," Willow managed to croak out, "I- I don't think I should."
The blonde cupped her face and rubbed her cheek with her thumb, "Trust me, Will, you absolutely need to. It's probably not a bad idea for me either. It's not magic and I'll be right here with you, okay?"
"Okay."
"Today we'll do the purging together but as soon as you’re up to it you need to do one alone. You should probably plan on few offerings of forgiveness, too."
"Okay," she repeated, obediently.
"I have to go downstairs," Tara said as she leaned in and dropped a kiss on her forehead, "I'll be right back."
Willow nodded again and watched as her lover stepped back and walked out of the room. The former witch watched her lover disappear through the doorway and then kept her eyes trained there, waiting for her return. Several minutes later her anxiety was starting to build when Tara finally reappeared. The blonde witch gave her lover a small smile as she passed her on her way the bathroom with the supplies she had gathered.
The sound of running water and the smell of burning sage followed Tara out of the bathroom as she moved next to her lover and took her hands once again. "You ready?"
"I love you."
The words were spoken with such raw emotion and honesty that Tara felt her eyes sting with tears. "I love you too," she answered as soft blue eyes met sad green, "more than anything."
Willow closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "I'm ready."
Tara offered her a small smile and led her into the bathroom.
Steam and sage filled the air of the dim, candle-lit bathroom. Tara sat on the edge of the bathtub and reached down to first test and then turn off the water. Apparently satisfied, the blonde gathered the supplies she had collected and began adding them to the water. Willow watched nervously as the experienced witch added milk, mint and then rose petals to the bath and stirred the water gently.
The redhead stood nearby twisting the ends of her shirt and without saying a word Tara moved to her lover and began undressing her. Willow said nothing and moved numbly as she was undressed and then guided into the warm water. She let herself be leaned backwards until she was nearly submerged with nothing but her lips and nose above water. Only Tara's hands kept her from sinking and disappearing into the abyss. After a couple of minutes she felt Tara guide her head above water and she looked up to her lover for instruction.
"I'm going to set up and purify the alter," Tara said as she used her hand to cup water and pour it over areas of the hacker's exposed skin. "Try to clear your mind and think of your path, Willow."
The former witch nodded.
The blonde leaned in and brushed her lips over that of her girlfriend's, "Be back soon."
Willow let her eyes fall closed and kept them that way. She heard Tara move away and she let her body slide back down into the water until she was almost completely submerged. The warm water wrapped around her body it felt like a hug from the universe and the former witch let herself sink into it. It was the first time in days that she hadn't felt cold.
She didn't realize that time had been passing until she felt Tara's hand on her shoulders as the blonde slipped into the tub behind her. The soft, warmth of her lover's skin made Willow want to melt into her and she pressed back into the blonde as much as she could. Tara's arms encircled her and she felt herself being hugged tightly, completely. She wasn't sure how long they stayed that way but when the water started to chill the blonde suggested that the bath part of the ritual was over and together they climbed out of the tub.
They dried off with the large, clean towels Tara had supplied before donning white, ceremonial robes. Tara dropped a kiss on her lips and led her back into their bedroom. The curtains had been drawn and the room was quite dark. Tara led her to the alter and she felt salt under her feet. The blonde released her hand to light the alter candle and then turned back to Willow and took her hands.
"Bless us goddess for we are your children," Tara recited the prayer. "We are creations of your divine light."
Willow stood meekly as Tara pushed off first her robe and then that of her lover. The blonde reached for a bowl on the alter and dipped her fingers into the amber liquid. She anointed Willow's head with the liquid and then her own, "Blessed be our minds that we may use our thoughts for the good of all."
The redhead's eyes fluttered shut when she saw the blonde's hand reached up to anoint them and then her own, "Blessed be our eyes so that we may see the path you have set for us to walk."
Their noses were anointed, "Blessed be our noses so that we may breathe the essence of your divinity."
She felt Tara's hands on her lips, "Blessed be our mouths that we may speak and worship you."
Soft hands anointed her chest, "Blessed be our hearts that we may be forever faithful."
Willow felt her breath catch slightly when she felt her lover's hands on her abdomen, "Blessed be our wombs that you have empowered to bring forth new life as you have brought forth creation."
The blonde kneeled and anointed their feet, "Blessed be our feet that we may always walk in your ways."
Tara returned to her feet, set the bowl down and took both of Willow's hands in hers, "Pray, Willow."
The redhead let her eyes slide shut and she did what Tara had told her to do; prayed. She prayed hard. She prayed for forgiveness and mercy; she prayed for direction and guidance and she offered thanks and beyond for Tara's return.
"Willow?" Tara called as slipped her robe back on and reached to help her girlfriend do the same.
"Yes?"
"How do you feel?" Tara asked, holding her gaze and searching her eyes.
"Like I could sleep for a week," she answered honestly.
"That's good," the blonde said as she aimed her girlfriend towards the bed, "I have to clean up. Lay down and I'll join you as soon as I'm finished."
Willow nodded mutely and made her way to the bed and dropped down in a boneless pile. She curled herself around Tara's pillow and watched as her girlfriend cleaned up the remnants of the ritual before moving to the armoire and changing into a pair of lounging pants and cotton t-shirt. She grabbed some items out of a drawer and approached the bed.
"You shouldn't sleep in that," she told the redhead. "I'll help you change."
It felt like it took every ounce of strength she had to push herself up to a sitting position and a soft grunt escaped. Tara gave a sad smile before helping her change into the pajamas and then tucking her in under the covers. The blonde stepped back from the bed and Willow called out, slightly panicked, "You're not going to leave are you?"
Tara stepped back to the bed and ran her fingers through the red locks, "No, baby, I'm staying right here. I want to open the window and then I'm going to meditate but I'll be right here," she patted the foot of the bed, "Right beside you."
"Sorry," Willow said softly, feeling as if she was acting to needy and insecure.
The Wiccan leaned in and dropped a gentle kiss on her lips, "We've all been through a lot, Baby. You have nothing to be sorry for."
The hacker just nodded and she watched her lover move across the room and opened the window. Fresh air and a cool breeze invaded the room and Tara moved back to the bed grabbing an extra blanket from the chair on her way. She spread the blanket across the bed and over the small woman tucked into it before climbing in. The blonde laid down along side the redhead and propped herself up on one elbow. She used the fingers of her free hand to play with the red stands again and hummed softly.
Tara's melodic voice was familiar, soft and sweet and Willow felt her eyes slide shut and she felt herself begin to sink into the gentle darkness of sleep.
Tara finished and looked down at her sleeping love. The redhead, she could tell, was the most relaxed she had been in a long time but still far from being at peace. She leaned in and brushed her lips across her girlfriend's temple and mumbled the words of a spell her mother had used on her when she was a child, "Mir Unutra San." As soon as the spell was spoken the tense lines around Willow's eyes and lips began to ease. The spell would keep the young woman from any bad dreams and allow her to get some much needed rest.
The blonde pressed her lips against her lover's forehead and then moved to sit at the foot of the bed. She crossed her legs and took several deep breathes and began clearing her mind. Within minutes the witch quickly slipped into a deep meditative state. It was nearly an hour later when the blonde opened her eyes and came out of the tranquil state. She looked over her shoulder and found Willow wrapped around her pillow and sleeping deeply.
Tara got up from the bed and moved to the chest where their magic supplies used to be kept. She lifted the lid and saw that it was nearly bare containing only the 'costume' supplies like a crystal ball, tarot cards, incense and other harmless items. In the corner of the chest was the small leather bag and she said a silent prayer of thanks as she reached for it. She took the bag, opened a blind and sat down on the floor. She opened the bag and dumped the stones into her hand. She ran her fingers over the smooth stones and carefully looked over each intricate design.
It was her mother who taught her about 'Witches Runes.' It wasn't a practice observed by many and wasn't considered truly Wiccan. It was actually a blend of the Viking tradition of 'Runes' and that of Reading Stones. The stones Tara held bore intricate designs that her mother had diligently carved with her grandmother when she was small. Each image had it's own meaning but when read together could offer great insight.
Tara set the stones aside and reached into the bag for the thin strip of leather she knew would be at the bottom. She tied the ends of the leather together and set it on the floor and molded it into the shape of a circle. The blonde then grabbed the stones in both hands, offered up a quick prayer and then dropped the stones. She looked down and studied the stones. Everything was important and they were easy to misread. Not only did she have to consider the placement of the stones but also the image, the type of stone and even the shadow it cast.
The blonde spent a long time considering the stones and only stopped when a soft knocking at the bedroom door interrupted her. Tara glanced at the bed on her way to the door and saw that Willow went undisturbed by the visitor. She opened the door and was greeted by a harried looking slayer.
"Buffy," said quietly, "What's up?"
Seeing the sleeping redhead, the slayer cringed, "I didn't wake you up did I?"
"No, I was working on something," the blonde replied as she stepped aside to let the small blonde into the room, "Is everything all right? Dawn's okay?"
"For now," Buffy answered, moving quietly past the bed. "God knows how's she going to feel after she finishers her anchovy oatmeal."
Tara winced visibly, "I think Xander may have been right when he said she had the stomach of a goat."
"Add mustard and she'd probably eat the rest of the goat too," said the slayer as she looked at the stones on the floor She nodded towards the bed, "How's she doing?"
"Physically, she's fine." The witch sighed, "I don't know yet how she's going to handle the emotional part of it."
Buffy nodded in understanding as she leaned against the desk, "What about the magic?"
"I'm not sure yet."
The slayer nodded slowly while frowning internally. That bit of news was somewhat unsettling. When it came to magic Willow went from Glinda to Whitney Houston and then to Apocalypse. And now, the one person they thought could help Willow keep a handle on it was 'not sure yet.'
"I'm not sure yet," Tara continued, picking up on the slayer's unease, "But I'm not worried that anyone's going to get hurt." The witch sat down at the foot of the bed and ran her hand up and down Willow's leg.
"But you are worried about something?"
Tara sighed, "I have this feeling that I can't shake. I've tried to-" her thought was interrupted when her gaze caught the sight of the Runes on the floor.
"Tara?" Buffy asked, concerned.
A new shadow had appeared on the bedroom floor and was cast partially over the circle of runes. It changed the meaning completely.
The slayer was standing too close to cast the shadow and Tara turned to look to see what had caused it.
"Dawn."
The teen smiled, "I made oatmeal."
Tara's gaze moved back to the stones on the floor. There was no mistaking their meaning now.
"Oh no," the witch breathed.
"What?" Buffy asked, her anxiety growing, "What is it?"
Tara looked up, her eyes wide, "Glory."