Hi! This here would be my new story. Title: Fractured
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.
Spolier: All of the seasons.
Summary: Tara has left. This is a story of how Willow and Tara find their way back. There will be angst, but hopefully it won't be enough to make you get up from in front of the computer and hurl yourself off a bridge. It's angst with a purpose, really.
Also, and I know you're not supposed to know the ending of the story before it starts, but I'll let you in on a secret: in the end? Willow and Tara will end up together.
Rating: Right now maybe PG-13. In the future it will be higher.
Note: I'd like to thank my beta for being really cool and agreeing to read the story. Thank you Tasha.
Other Note: If anyone actually DOES feel like getting up from in front of the computer and hurling themselves off a bridge, PLEASE let me know beforehand 'kay? I'll, well I won't change the story or anything because of some sort of delusional sense of pride I have about my work, but I'll promise to try to talk you out of it. If my attempts don't work, then I promise to feel really bad about your demise.
Chapter 1
I want to tell you a love story. It isn’t always a happy story and it isn’t without its dark moments, but love and life usually never are.
It begins, with a breakup.
It’s been said that a relationship, while painful at the ending, will, in time, become a precious memory. It will no longer hurt so much. But instead, the good of it, the things learned, will remain forever. In time, a person will be grateful for the experience.
Tara wouldn’t know; she was still dealing with the unbearable pain and absolute despair that the ending had caused.
And it was an ending. She’d really done it. She’d left Willow. She didn’t know if she would ever get over the hurt it had caused; she couldn’t imagine a time when she wouldn’t be hurting. What she did know was that she had nowhere to go. She had the money for a week in the hotel; then, nothing.
Tired, so unbelievably tired, she sat at the edge of the bed. However looking around the hotel room brought her no relief. The room was dirty, dingy and depressing. She didn’t know how she would be able to sleep on the bed – the sheets were stained. Looking down at the carpet she found it was no better. She got up, determined to do something, determined to go home, then sat down remembering it was no longer her home.
Feeling a fresh batch of tears start up in her already red-rimmed eyes, she ruthlessly pushed them back.
“Stop it,” she whispered. “What good will it do?”
She had survived the loss of someone before, she reminded herself. If she could do it then, if she could pull out the dank, dark place she was in when that had happened, she could certainly do it now.
Of course, she remembered the price for her survival. She remembered the shallow shell that remained after her mother’s death. She remembered the whipping toy, the servant that she had become. It was only through love that the soul returned to that shell. How then was she going to survive without the presence of that love? She didn’t know.
All she knew was that she had to leave. The reminders would be too much for her. To be in the same city, walking through places were they had walked together, perhaps running into each other, was all too much for her to deal with at the moment. She felt fragile, as if she were a glass with a fracture already in it. One more hit, however slight, would inevitably shatter the glass into a million pieces. And she didn’t think she would have the strength or the desire to pick all those pieces up. Better to leave and be fractured, she thought, better to have something of herself still intact.
Her mind set, she walked up and picked up the phone book near the side table; looking through it, she found the number of the nearest cab company and called it. She was going to the bus station, she decided. She was getting on a bus and leaving town.
Willow was resigned. Not happy, but resigned. People were always leaving her. Tara’s departure was just the latest in a long line of flights. Granted, hers hurt the most. In fact, it was still hurting. But no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she wished, Tara had not come back. She had not even made contact. It had been months, restless, frantic months, in which Willow had searched despairingly for her love. She had used every resource at her disposal and still had been unable to secure a clue - a pathway that would lead her to her long-fled lover. So she was resigned. Tara had left and she did not want to be found.
Willow sighed as she put on a white button-up shirt. Looking around their room, no… her room now, for shoes. A part of her was angry, she realized. Angry at Tara for leaving, for not wanting to be found. Willow had done it. She had gotten over the addiction. She had her magic under control. And yet, the main person she wanted to show her accomplishment to, cared not to see it.
She ruthlessly pushed back the latest batch of tears stinging her perpetually red-rimmed eyes. She was determined to get through this day without crying. In the hope of managing that, she finished putting on her shoes in haste and walked staunchly toward the door.
It was then that she heard it. The bang. Her Scooby nature kicking in, she ran toward the sound instead of away from it.
Racing down the flight of stairs, then through the kitchen door, she saw it. Buffy lay on the floor, seemingly unmoving, and Xander was on his knees in front of her, his yellow shirt stained with blood.
Oh Goddess. “Buffy?”
Edited by: Marilda at: 11/15/03 9:21 am
..more soon please? love sammi xx 
, but atleast you say things are going to be okay. Now, what happened to Buffy? 
** mumbles ** stupid stupid timing .... 