Family Ties
Chapter One: Part One

A/N: Hi there! I thought I should put this in to give everyone a little comment on why I wrote this chapter. since it goes back farther than even Tara's birthday. The reason is that, watching the episode Family, I had a lot of questions. Why would her mother marry someone like that? What did they even want with a daughter they thought was a demon? What led up to this? I decided to take a couple chapters for a prelude of some sort to answer some of my own questions, and undoubtedly some of yours', too! I hope I did a decent job, and didn't confuse anyone too much. At the end of the next part of the chapter, I'll try to get some kind of a timeline up for all of you to make it more comprehensive, in case it's really confusing. I'm not sure how necessary this part will be to read, since I haven't written the whole thing yet, but if it's just too long or it becomes tiresome, you can skip it.

It was an arranged marriage.

You could come up with all kinds of information, facts, and stories to cover it up, but that wouldn't change the truth. Maybe their parents hadn't been planning it that long, maybe that wasn't exactly what it was supposed to be. In the end, however, that was exactly how it turned out.

The Millers and the Maclays were family friends, all the way back to Lillian's great-grandfather. Both families lived only across the street from each other in an upper-class town in Alabama. Charlie and Laura Miller worked side-by-side, running the law firm Charlie inherited the right to after his father retired. Laura mostly did the secretary work, while Charlie handled the employees. Michael Maclay ran a car insurance company, while his wife Sara was more of a housewife. The Maclays were also the only ones who knew about the Millers' secret; Laura could practice magic. It was one of the biggest oddities of their friendship, since the Maclays were strict Evangelical Christians, but...it worked.

Or, for a while, it did.

Lillian Judith Miller was the Millers' first-born. By the time they had her, the Maclays had four children; Joshua, William, Donald, and Heather. Lily was practically raised with those four. They had play-dates, sleep-overs, family outings and vacations together. Rarely did a day pass by that they didn't spend some time together, and everything was wonderful between them all.

That was, until 17-year-old Donald told a 15-year-old Lily he liked her.

She was utterly shocked. They'd been raised together all their lives; he couldn't be her boyfriend, he was her brother, for crying out loud! Although he eventually persuaded her her to try things out, the relationship just didn't work. She loved him, but as a brother. She didn't have those feelings for him, so she did the only thing there was to do; she broke up with him.

It was a couple months after that that the shit hit the fan.

Laura had been abusing magic for a good long time. It had gotten hard, if not impossible, to hide. Sometimes, she'd disappear for days at a time- either indulging in her addiction or suffering the after-effects of some spell, like turning invisible. Even when she was there, she was concerned only with getting back to feeding her addiction. The only time she stopped was when her magic shorted out and she collapsed from exhaustion. The magic changed the color of her hair, the tone of her skin, the shade of her eyes. She was consumed.

Eventually, her obsession caught up with her. You can only put yourself in harms way so many times before it hits you. Her final spell would have normally been harmless- a visit back in history to observe. But at 36-years-old, she was already living on borrowed time. The spell went wrong and transferred her instead to an alternate universe, created by a justic demon. In that universe, it was weeks before she died at the hands of an over-sized demon- pure white with candy red and blue stripes- who had taken her body hostage. In the world she was from, it was only a few hours. There was no funeral, no burial, not even a body. As far as anyone knew, Laura had simply vanished; ceased to exist.

It wasn't until one of the members of Laura's coven set out to find her that they discovered the truth. She was dead, off in some other dimension. No one even knew what to do. They wanted to bring her body back, to have a funeral and some closure. When Rosalynn tried to transfer it back, however, it was the demon who'd killed her that came out. It killed her on sight, and left her body so mutilated the police couldn't identify her until they reviewed a blood sample.

With two people dead of supernatural causes, it couldn't get much worse for the Millers. At least, they didn't think it could, until Michael and Sara Maclay came over on a Friday night looking their "Sunday best."

"Here to tell me about God's good news?" Charlie inquired with good-humored sarcasm. Had he known what would come of that, he would never have said it.

"Sort of, yes." he said, coming in and shutting the door. "But, this is more about Laura."

Charlie's face immediately turned solemn. "What about her?"

"Why don't we all sit down?" Michael suggested. Charlie shrugged and obliged. "Alright," he sighed; "there isn't much of a way to say this...we've known for a while, Charlie, that your wife could practice magic."

He narrowed his eyes. "Yes..?"

"Well, we weren't really sure about it all at first, but I figured our friendship was more important than that." he puffed his cheeks out thoughtfully; "And, after everything that happened with Rosa...I'm pretty sure Laura was some kind of demon."

Charlie stared back at Michael for a moment, utter shock on his face. "Mike," he said, his voice full of stifled rage; "you bes' be jokin.'"

"I wish I was." he responded, giving off a tone of empathy. There was a long conversational pause, during which Charlie was surely considering whether or not he should slap this guy in front of a woman. "What are you thinking?"

Without hesitation, he replied; "I'm thinkin' that you're full o' horsefeathers."

"Listen, I wouldn't have said anything normally, but when I found out about Rosa...the pieces just fit together too well." he sat back on the couch. "Rosalynn might not have made any kind of error."

"Poppycock." he folded his arms. "You don't understand how this stuff works, Mike."

"And you do?"

"No, I don't, so I don't put myself in any place to make assumptions. Mike, we've always been different in our thinkin' sometimes, but I've never tried to change you and you've never tried to change me before. Don't make this a problem if it don't have to be."

The conversation came to a halt, but it didn't stop there. Michael was a salesman at heart; he could sell ice to an Eskimo. That was how he always managed to bail himself out of debt. In spite of being as well-to-do as he was, Michael sometimes found more money going out than coming in. He was a compulsive gambler, even making bets with his friends over the most trivial of things. It was his excellence in sales that kept him and his family on track. Right now, though, his business was in danger of going bankrupt. Three of the salesmen in his company had been accused of giving false information or otherwise exhibiting inappropriate behavior with their clients; the entire company was being sued three times over with claims that measured up to over a million dollars each. His lawyer was faltering, and although Michael was sure he'd come through in the end, they needed "Plan B." Something to fall back on.

Enter, Lillian Judith Miller. Donald, their youngest son, had always had his eyes set on her. If he could convince Charlie to have his daughter marry him, they would always have more than enough money to fall back on. It was a win-win deal.

Finally, Charlie did give into Michael's "ridiculous notions." It took well over a month, but he got Charlie to agree to let Donald marry his daughter. It would "cleanse the family line," keep this from ever happening again. After all, he wouldn't want to lose his child the way Laura's father had just lost her.

For Lillian, however, there wouldn't be much of a choice. Charlie tried to persuade her, to make her see things the way Michael had made him see them. But there was no way to do that. She was too strong-willed. Her will matched his, in fact. He would have to get a leg up on her.

Money. He threatened her with money. If she refused to marry him, he would take away her inheritance. He wouldn't pay for her to go to school. Once she turned 18, she'd be up a creek without a paddle. She didn't fight him much longer, after that. She certainly tried, telling him she could get a job to put herself through. But a minimum wage job would never be enough for her to pay rent, make car payments, pay for car insurance, and put herself through school. So, she gave in.

"The sooner, the better," everyone kept saying. Lily tried to hold them off, to at least give herself time until she was 18 and had graduated high school. Maybe giving her father time would give him time to think about how crazy this was. It was no use. Unbeknownst to her, Michael was well aware of the fact that Charlie may gain some of his sensibilities if they waited too long. Now, they were not only choosing whom she married, but when she married him.

Donald hardly let her have anything to do with planning the wedding. Five years of dreaming what that moment would be like, all down the drain. There would be no huge banquet hall decorated with violets and white roses, no French wine and cheese, no string and wind orchestra playing classical music, or lighting with little, white, angelic bulbs. They wouldn't even have the square porceline dishes or the soup or the pasta or the salad she wanted. The only thing she had any say in was the flavor of the cake- she wanted red velvet with vanilla bean frosting. It was that, and her dress. Since it seemed like everything else had been taken away from her, she was going to wear whatever dress in the sam hell she wanted.

She decided on a strapless lavender ball gown that descended to the floor. The sleeves were detachable. Although no one would be able to see them, Lily got a pair of sparkly white heels to wear with the dress.

Donald never proposed to her in person. The only thing that came close was the day she went over to their house to spend time with Heather. He took her aside and showed her the little box, open, with the ring in it. Actually, the thing was huge. It was just so gaudy, yet somehow bland. "I got the ring," he told her.

"I see it."

"What do you think? Pretty big, huh?"

"Yep, it's big alright."

He smiled one of his cocky, arrogant smiles at her. She used to think the expression was kind of endearing. They usually came along with one of his jokes, or when he was proud of an accomplishment, like the first time he caught a fish. But...this smile...this smile was totally different. It was like he owned her.

Finally, Heather peaked her head out the bedroom door. "Hey, Lil, ya' comin'?"

Lily broke her defiant gaze from Donald. "Yeah," she said, turning and walking away.

The day of the wedding finally came. Charlie hired professional make-up artists and hair stylists to help Lillian get ready. They were getting married at the church the Maclays attended. The building was nice, Lily guessed, but she never liked churches one bit. She most definitely didn't want to get married in one, but it was quite obvious that what she wanted really didn't matter. There was a small band playing music that almost resembled jazz. Lily didn't have anything against jazz, but she would have preferred classical. There were no decorations, none of the ice or crystal sculptures she wanted, nor any fountains. Nothing but two rows of pews and a pulpit.

Lillian grimly wondered if she was about to get married, or condemned.
Then, she wondered what the difference was in this case.

The minister was a clean-cut, sharp-featured man in a tuxedo that was a little too big for his frame. His eyes were cold, his face expressionless. The end of that hallway looked ominous, even with the band playing "here comes the bride" on their instruments. Lillian didn't want to walk slowly down the aisle; she wanted to run and just get it over with. Or better, just drop the flowers and run away. The poor beauticians in the back had to deal with three different crying episodes from her, telling them over and over that she didn't want to get married now. She was only sixteen. They didn't know what to do anymore than she did.

When she reached the pulpit, she could see that Donald was caught between disdain at her disrespect for tradition- wedding dresses were supposed to be white- and admiration of her beauty. She smirked at him with a rebellious gleam in her eye. He could take her wedding, he could take her money, he could take her time and he could even take her body if he must- but there was one thing he could not have. Somehow, somewhere, he must have known that; otherwise, he would not be struggling so desperately to get everything else.

It was her.

The vows they made were the same ones everyone made at the altar, with nothing personal added to them. Lily thought during several instances that she might snap and run away in tears, but she somehow managed to get through it. Everyone insisted on congratulating her, telling her how lovely she looked and wishing her the best. If only they knew she had been forced into it. That she had been manipulated and coerced. That she didn't love Donald the way you should love a husband. But she could never explain that, and she didn't want any kind of lecturing, so she just responded with a graceful smile and a soft, polite "Thank you."