AUTHOR: Washi (ZWS)
EMAIL: washi70s@yahoo.fr
RATING: R for violence
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the characters, Joss does or whoever. If I owned them, do you really think I would let season 6 happen? And why the hell would I be writing this?
So yeah, all belongs to Joss, ME etc...
SPOILERS: Season 5, episode “Family”
FEEDBACK: I love it, I live for it! Either here, or by email.
ARCHIVE: Wherever, just tell me first.
THANKS: Ruth, my official beta, Lesbadar, MellindraX, LadyBrymstone, Domaris, The Next Tara Maclay and infinitelight for their opinions and help. Also all those present in the chat at night.
You guys rock!
OTHER THANKS: I wanna thank all the great authors that bring us the best fics ever. If there are ressemblances to other fics, I'm sorry, it wasn't intentional.
NOTES: Serious Violence warning. And I mean SERIOUS.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Okay, the title sucks big time, if you have a suggestion, shoot!
*******************************
Her blood was pumping in her veins. Her muscles were contracting, each movement strained. Her breath came out in shallow gasps. Sweat was on her skin, making it shiny and slick. It mingled with something else, thick, heavy. Breathing was heavy. She ran a hand down her sides, feeling the raw abrasion of her skin. She was running. She lifted her hand and saw the sticky and heavy substance. Blood. The blood that she had shed. Shed from the wound in her side.
The wound that was courtesy of Donnie, her brother, her blood.
She kept running, running towards the light. But what was the light? They would find her. They always did. Even in the shadows, she wasn't alone in the safety of the darkness. He was always there. Lurking in the shadows. In the darkness. The darkness they wanted her to control. She was alone. They said that they had to beat her to control the evil inside her, the demon. But her magic didn't feel evil.
What is evil after all? It's a corruption of the purity we are born in. Are selfless actions what made people pure and innocent? Or is that a big scheme from the evil's side? Was she filled with light magic to help out with the darkness? Was she the light needed to make the evil actually evil? To keep the balance?
Tara knew she wasn't evil. She just knew. She would’ve felt it.
But she knew deep inside, in a secret part of her mind, that she wasn't evil. She wasn’t a demon.
Silence. Silent nights, filled with silent pain and suffering. Silent tears and sobs she released in her lonely nights.
The pain. The pain was unbearable.
She stopped running and leaned against a tree, in the shadows, hoping that Donnie wouldn't find her. Wouldn’t drag her back to her hell. The pain in her side was screaming for some kind of relief. She pressed her hands on the wound lightly, and the blood still poured freely, like anguished tears making their way down pale skin. She was bruised, battered. All she wanted was peace and comfort. But where was this place she longed for?
What if this place didn't exist, what if she would never be accepted for what she was, for what she believed in?
She was alone, her light had been stripped from her when her mother died. Her mother, a beautiful radiant being that suffered in her life and tried to protect her from the blows, taking them on herself. She had promised she'd always be there with her, that she'd always protect her. That she'd find one day someone to take care of her, someone who would love her. But she left, her promises unfulfilled. She died and left her alone. Maybe alone to die.
Hush. Silence.
No clear answer came to her, and she felt confused.
Stifling a sob, she continued her questioning.
Donnie hurt her. Then, he locked her up, alone in a room, tied her to the bedpost, on the cold hard ground. Like tonight, he hit her with his belt and his fists and his feet. Blow after blow until she managed to escape him, to run as he looked for the restrains that bound her down.
Then Donnie must be evil, he must have the demon inside him.
She didn’t hate her father or Donnie. Why did they hate her, hurt her, both emotionally and physically?
Was she guilty of something? If so, why didn’t they tell her what she did, and she’d stop doing it. She’d do anything to stop this pain, this hatred, the beatings.
The beatings.
She had to run, to flee.
Taking one shuddering breath, she started running, her confused mind focused on a getaway. The trees opened up in front of her, revealing the light.
The road.
She started running faster.
“TARA!”
He was running too. At full speed. He was going to catch up with her and hit her against, then drag her to the house, hit her some more, and finally lock her up.
She was weakening. Her bruised and aching muscles straining under the effort. Her breathing was erratic. She drew her breath in painfully, and painfully drew it out. Her chest felt on fire. She heard him behind her.
She was doomed.
She still ran, pushing her muscles to the maximum, but her right leg was sore, and she couldn’t run anymore.
Donnie grabbed her long hair and pulled, tossing her on the ground.
She fell down, hard, her breath knocked out. From habit, she curled up tightly in a ball. She waited for a blow to fall, but none came.
She looked up and she saw the first fist coming down on her. It connected with her mouth, and she felt the blood. A sweet yet acrid taste that made her recoil. Still it was familiar, as familiar as the subtle smell of the incense her mother used to burn.
“Where did you think you could go bitch? Who would want you near them? You’re nothing but a dyke! You’re a disgrace to our family! I’ll get one of my friends to fuck you so you’ll know what a good dick feels like!”
She closed her eyes, and curled up more. She closed her eyes tight, waiting for the blows to come.
She heard his feet shuffle in the leaves that were scattered all around them. Rain started pouring down from above, as if some unseen force was crying for her, big tears from the gods above wetting the dead foliage around her. Her tears started falling too as she heard Donnie circle her, like a wild animal, looking for the best place to start his massacre. And then she felt the first blow. She cringed as pain shot up her spine, her tears falling harder, faster as did the strikes.
She knew from habit that she had to be quiet until the beating was over, then wait until he dragged her inside and locked her up to start sobbing silently. Pleading wouldn’t help her. She had tried when she was younger, and seeing the effect, she stopped trying. The blows would stop faster if she remained quiet. That had happened from experience.
But tonight, the beating was harsher, as she felt her insides howling in pain. She couldn’t take it anymore and she screamed, a high-pitched keening of mourning. Mourning for herself, for her mother, from all the pain she experienced, from all the anger she bottled up. Each kick made her wail more, her eyes clenched tightly, her tears pounding down her cheeks into the already soaked ground. All of her body ached, her bruises and wounds growing bigger with each blow.
Suddenly, the beating stopped. She heard voices and shuffling. She waited for Donnie and her father to catch hold of her hair and drag her back inside, where they could hit her more, make her feel like she’s worthless and unwanted. Make her feel like a broken doll.
But the pull never came.
A scream tore the night. A man’s voice. A wail, a supplication.
She slowly opened her eyes and raised her head.
A short blonde woman was kicking Donnie. Punching him, beating him.
A group of people were headed her way.
A redhead, two brunettes and two men.
She heard the redhead’s angry voice over the pounding sound of the rain.
“Touch her again, and I’ll kill you! Don’t even come try to come looking for her. Come near her, and I’ll let you know what torture is! Bastard!”
The redhead made her way towards her, the rest of the group behind her. She saw Donnie on the ground, trying to get up, his shirt torn and his breathing ragged.
She then looked at the redhead and her heart soared. Her heart filled to the brim with love, as did her eyes with tears.
Happy tears.
Ones she had never shed before.
The redhead was the light.
Tara smiled, opening the gash on her lip, making it bleed more. She winced, but kept smiling as the redhead crouched in front of her.
“You came.” Tara said, looking in the redhead’s green eyes.
“Of course I came.” she replied, her voice soft and warm, quivering.
Tears spilled down her own cheeks.
“We’re family.” the others replied in chorus, smiling at her through their tears.
The redhead pulled the blonde to her arms, and with surprising force lifted her up. Tara clung to her, knowing she was safe.
“I’m here baby. You’re with me, with us. You’re safe.”
Tara smiled and let herself drift to the comforting darkness of a deep safe slumber.
*******************************
Tara opened her eyes. She looked around for a second, and felt someone holding her close, rocking her.
“Willow?”
“Shh my love, everything will be fine.” said the redhead holding her close.
Tara nodded against Willow’s chest, feeling safe, secure.
*******************************
TBC....
Questions? Comments? Insults? I'm all ears.
********
"See? I've mastered this tact crap." Anya in Tears Of The Goddess by Lisa
I had alot of emotions fear, love for Tara and alot of hate for Donny that 
bastard!!!!
at: 4/10/03 11:30:20 am
grin:: heh heh. And as far as that goes.... go nuts Washi!
ats self on back:: My first time being thanked on a fic disclaimer... ::sniff:: This calls for Chocolate!
.
