TITLE: The Cross (May change title later!)
AUTHOR: lilcheesenip
RATING: 14A (Is that a rating? xD) for swearing, and generally just darker topics like suicide, drugs, etc.
DISCLAIMER: Sadly, I don't own any of the characters. Wish I did, but Joss Whedon does. >.>
SUMMARY: When Willow Rosenberg came out to her friends, she expected their full support-or at least some of it. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that they would turn their backs on her, leaving her to navigate the hallways of hell in high school friendless. Now alone, and depressed, Willow struggles to make it through life day-by-day until she agrees to show her language arts teacher's niece around school, and her life changes drastically.
Tara is beautiful, and kind, but that is hardly shown. Traumatized by the loss of her mother, which she witnessed and could not stop, she refuses to let down the walls she has built around herself. Willow tries to break through them only to discover she has similar walls around herself. Can two damaged hearts meet, and finally find peace again? (Dude O.o Loooong summary xD)
SPOILERS: None that I can think of. It's all AU, so no monsters, or anything. ^.^ May steal dialogue hear and there.
FEEDBACK: Absolutely! I live for it. ^.^
ANGST: YES. Seriously. If you can't stand angst, hit that lovely little blue-well, it's blue for me, anyways xD- 'back' button right now, because this is
not the story for you.
Author's Note 1: This idea was heavily influenced by the amazing song
'The Cross' (hence the title, since I couldn't think of anything better xD) which belongs to the amazing band
Within Temptation.
Author's Note 2: Alright, I was planning on posting this tomorrow, but a lot of people posted on Saving Grace that they were wondering if I had anything else in mind, and since I've had the idea kicking around for awhile, I decided to just post it. ^.^ This is a lot different from Saving Grace- No Faith D:- though, exploring the darker side of Buffy. Like if Buffy, Xander, and Anya had abandoned Willow if she had come out to them in high school. I guess I just like to make people suffer. xD Enjoy, regardless! ^.^
PART 1
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It had been a long time since Willow Rosenberg had been happy.
God knows how much time had passed. Days didn’t mean much to Willow, except for those two days every week when she was momentarily released from her everyday torture. The weekend was her on ally, it seemed, against her enemy. The whole world had turned its back to her-not before reminding her how stupid and worthless she was and the world would be better off without her- but the weekend stuck close by, offering her the familiar warmth of her comforter and the promise of TV show and old movie re-run marathons. Not that Willow ever watched the old movies. Watching old movies was a tradition she had shared with
her and Willow had vowed to never watch another old movie if her life depended on it, and, so far, she had kept her promise.
Buffy Summers, athletic extraordinaire. Commonly referred to as ‘The Slayer’ because of her talent/obsession with the ways of the sword and her ability to take down any guy three times her size. Every gym teacher’s dream. Willow’s ex-best friend and one of her tormentors, Buffy had been the body of the group.
Buffy was nothing like Cordelia Chase- or ‘Queen C’ as Buffy referred to her; resident cheerleader and winner of the ‘Bitch of the Year’ award for a whopping whatever-the-hell-her-age-was years in a row- in her torment. There were no snide remarks, the knocking of her books from her hands, or even the classic trip-the-nerd-down-the-stairs. No, Buffy’s actions could hardly be considered a torment, but the quick glances of mingled pity and disgust and her effort to avoid Willow in the halls cut her deeper than any word from Cordy’s mouth.
And there was Xander. Alexander ‘Xander’ Harris (No one would ever take him seriously while calling him ‘Alexander’) had been her best friend for as long as she could remember, and his betrayal had been an unforgiving blow to her already-broken heart. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but with a sensitive, sweet nature and a fierce loyalty, Xander had been with her through thick and thin- until that moment Willow had revealed her biggest secret and scared him off permanently- and he had been the heart of the group.
And then there was Anya. The most, well, insane of the group, Anya had a strange sense of humor and a slight obsession with money-and Xander- but she had always been blunt and truthful, something that tended to drive a wedge between her and Willow, but something she had always admired.
Well, had admired. Even though Anya had made a futile effort to wave at her in the halls and talk to her in the few classes they had together- something Willow had appreciated- the struggling red-head had been unable to re-cooperate the gesture, until even Anya drifted away, and now failed to acknowledge her.
And Willow? She’d been the quirky one of the group, the one who copied down notes in a system of different colored pens that made perfect sense to her but was indecipherable to the others. (Black for things that were important, red for things she didn’t quite understand, blue for keywords, and the rest was all in pencil- how hard was that to understand?) The brains of the group, the one who you could go to for tutoring or any school-related problems. Unchanging. Always there. Old reliable.
Of course, Willow had shattered that identity with a single sentence.
“Buffy,
I’m gay!”
Willow hadn’t meant for it to come out; it had just come out when Willow, getting sick of Buffy’s bashing of gay people, had blurted it out.
There had been a shocked silence, and Willow, mortified, had flushed a deep red, but refused to take back her words. She had been struggling with sexuality for some time and that moment had defined it, no matter what anyone tried to do to change it.
Xander had stared at her, shocked speechless. Anya had started grinning, something Willow hadn’t been able to comprehend. Only Buffy spoke up.
“You can’t be serious."
Willow’s ears had gone red, but she had refused to back down.
“I’m. Gay.” She had said each word slowly, emphasizing them. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Buffy hadn’t answered, just flushed a brilliant red, and stormed off without another word. Xander had lingered, pleading with her.
“Wil, can’t you just…change back?”
Willow had blinked at him in surprise. “This is who I am. Can’t you accept that?”
The loud “I can!” from Anya had been ignored by the best friends.
“If you can’t accept me, then I guess you really aren’t my friend.” It had been unfair of Willow to pull the ‘you-said-you-were-my-friend’ guilt-trip card, but she was starting to feel desperate, the tears from Buffy’s abrupt departure starting to spill over.
“Then I guess this goodbye.”
Willow had blinked, and the tears had increased as the last of her dignity-and self-control- had smashed on the ground. “What? Xander, you’re my best friend!”
“You like girls, Willow.” He had seemed disgusted by the fact.
Her head had been reeling; she hadn’t been thinking right when she snapped back furiously: “So do you!”
That had been the final straw. “You like them in a way you’re not supposed to.” And he had followed Buffy down the street, leaving Willow with Anya.
She had patted Willow’s shoulder, and then, in what she had meant to be a comforting tone, said: “I don’t think that, Willow. In fact, I think it’s very okay. Not that I’m gay or anything. Since I have such a love for Xander’s penis, but-”
“Anya!” Wounded, and still in a bit of shock, Willow hadn’t been thinking straight, and had only dug herself a deeper hole. “If you love Xander’s penis so much, why aren’t you with him?”
Anya had taken a step back, and looked a little hurt. “I was only trying to help. Especially since no one wants to talk to your miserable gay-ass anymore. Not the best way to come out, Willow.” And then she had spun on her heel, and disappeared, because wherever Xander went, Anya was sure to follow.
The loud ringing of the shrill bell that indicated the end of class startled Willow from her thoughts, and made her realize she was crying. Ducking her head so her crimson hair semi-blocked her tear-swollen eyes, she gathered her books, and made a break for the door before half the students were even from their seats.
“Oh, Willow? Could you stay a moment?”
Damn it. Willow was forced to stop in her tracks, watching the other students- the lucky bastards- dart out the door to enjoy their dismissal. The door slammed loudly behind the last student, leaving Willow alone with the teacher.
Wiping quickly at her eyes with the sleeve of her black sweater she turned to face Miss Kelley, her language arts teacher.
Miss Kelley had only been teaching for about a year. She was still young- early twenties, Willow estimated- and she had not yet been hardened by the students’ ferocity. She was a kind teacher who never raised her voice about a normal volume, no matter how unruly the class got. She had been Willow’s favorite teacher before, in her old life. When she had been happy.
“Ma’m?”
“Are you okay?” Miss Kelley had her head tilted, studying Willow with something more than professional concern. The soft brown wings of hair that framed her face accented her delicate features. An open, friendly face, one people could trust.
But Willow couldn’t trust anybody.
“Of course,” She said with her most convincing smile.
It must have been pretty pathetic, because Miss Kelley grimaced in response.
“I’m worried about you, Willow,” She admitted, “Before you used to dress so colorfully, and now you dress in all black. You used to have your hand up to answer each question, and now I can barely get one word out of you. I spoke with your other teachers-”
“You talked to my other teachers?!” Willow gasped, horrified, before she could stop herself. Alerting her teachers meant invoking their concern- and their watchful eyes. Now she would get no peace.
“-and they mentioned that they were also concerned.” Miss Kelley’s eyebrows rose at the outburst, but she did not comment. “We feel that maybe you should-”
“I don’t need counseling, if that’s what you mean,” Willow interrupted, her tone sharper than she had intended it to be.
“Of course not, Willow.” Did the concern in Miss Kelley’s eyes deepen? “I only meant, that, well…” She paused, and took a deep breath. “My sister was killed last week. My niece was injured in the struggle, not now she is coming to live with me.”
“I’m sorry,” Willow said quietly- and she
was sorry. She knew what it was like to lose someone important to you. “But I don’t understand why you’re telling me this.”
Miss Kelley sighed, “It’s just that…she’s very traumatized by the attack, my niece, and she had a hard enough time making friends before that. I’m afraid she’ll be alone and draw deeper into herself. She was very close to her mother, and her loss was hard on her. She’s released from the hospital next Tuesday, and will come to school on the Friday. I was hoping you could maybe…befriend her, help her get settled?”
Willow blinked, not sure what to make of the odd request. On one hand, she resented the idea of attempting to open her heart to another who would surely break it, but, on the other, the poor girl was on her own…
Before she had even made the decision, her mouth was moving. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
Damn it. Me and my big mouth. Why did you do that, mouth? Why? Traitor.
Miss Kelley beamed at her. “Thank the heavens there are people like you. Thank you so much, Willow. This means a lot to me. You can go now.”
Willow nodded, shifted the strap of her shoulder bag, and managed another fake smile. She was just opened the door when Miss Kelley stopped her. “And Willow?”
Willow paused, and turned to face her. “Yeah?”
Her smile was genuine, but there was a touch of worry in her eyes. “You used to be so full of life. Take care of yourself.”
For the first time in a long time, Willow actually smiled. It was a tiny smile, just the ghost of what she might have once smiled, barely there before it was gone. But it was still a smile. “I will.”
It wasn’t until she was out of the school doors did she realize she’d meant what she’d said.
[center]***[/center]
It was the same routine, day in, day out.
Willow watched the bag of popcorn rotate in the microwave as she sipped her hot chocolate. Same as always. She’d come home, drop her backpack in the entrance, kick of her tennis shoes without even bothering to aim them towards the shoe closet, then head for the kitchen, knowing very well that no one was home. No one was ever home, not since Ira’s affair/betrayal, and departure. Mommy Dearest- a.k.a Shelia Rosenberg, parenting extraordinaire- had thrown herself into work even more to try and ‘forget that bastard’ (or, Ira Rosenberg, Willow’s dear old daddy.)
So Willow was left in her own company- which she preferred- for a good time after she finally managed to fall asleep around midnight each night. Sheila was usually asleep when Willow left for school, and was gone before the time she got home. Sometimes she didn’t even come home. Even on the weekends, they saw almost nothing of each other. Willow stayed locked in her room, and Sheila in her office.
Might as well live on my own. The microwave beeped, and Willow pulled the bag from it, grabbing it by the bottom, and, of course, burning her fingers in the process like she did every day.
A few minutes later, bowl of popcorn in hand, bag in the other, Willow dragged herself up the stairs to her room. Willow’s family of two was rich. Really rich. But Willow wasn’t too concerned about that. Money couldn’t buy happiness, despite what Sheila believed, as Willow has discovered herself. So Willow didn’t ever brag about her riches, her room, her terrace, or anything. She kept her mouth shut. Permanently.
As she settled herself down in front of her 42”, Willow couldn’t help but wonder about the new girl, Miss Kelley’s niece. Why had she agreed to show her around? What use would she be, an abandoned loser, to a traumatized girl who had just lost her mother?
Willow sighed, and clicked off her TV. She couldn’t do it, couldn’t follow her routine. Not today. Leaving the popcorn behind, she went through the double glass doors that led to her own private terrace. It was abnormally warm for September, almost hot, so Willow took off her dark sweater and leaned against the railing. She let her hair down as well, relishing in the feeling of the light breeze tousling her hair. Here, on her own, she was free.
Here, she didn’t have to hide the ugly red scars that marred her wrists and her heart.