Title: Half a World Away
Author: dap311
Pairing: B/W eventually
Rating: R (to be safe; some is PG-13)
Disclaimers: Buffy and Willow belong to Joss and Mutant Enemy. "Half a World Away" is Berry/Buck/Mills/Stipe (R.E.M.) off the album Out of Time.
Spoilers: This is set during their senior year in high school, after events of Season 2, but diverges. There is no Oz is this universe.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Summary: Willow is fighting depression, Buffy tries to help her.
** is flashback
----- text ------ indicates writing, such as a journal entry.
[Willow's thoughts]
"My hand's tired, my heart aches, I'm half a world away."
R.E.M.
Willow sat at her desk, pen in her hand, notebook open in front of her, trying to figure out what was going on in her life.
------I feel so alone right now- I don't know what is wrong with me. One minute I'm fine, happy, getting along with the gang, and the next minute I can't speak, I can't smile, it's like I'm frozen- my mind, my heart, my soul. I don't feel anything then. I'm numb and frustrated. I've been depressed before- how could I not, being the school geek and all. But, I thought that all ended when Buffy came to town- I finally felt apart of something other than the "We hate Cordelia Club." But, that feeling of belonging faded- I'm back to feeling empty and lost. I don't have the energy to go to class, but I do. I don't have the motivation to do my homework, except to keep up the appearance of normality. For all anyone else knows I'm doing just fine. Good ol' Willow- she's just super! But, I'm not. I wish I were- I would give anything to feel normal again. The only person who knows is Buffy, but I hate burdening her- she's got enough to think about, saving the world and everything.-----
She stopped writing and looked down at her wrists. There were two parallel scars running along her right wrist and about five small cuts on the outside of her left wrist. They were fainter now; a week ago they had been red, loud testaments to the anguish Willow was going through. She didn't tell anyone other than Buffy; she felt too ashamed of her own actions to admit to hurting herself. But she couldn't lie to Buffy, to her best friend. Even if she had tried Buffy would have known something was up. As it was she knew there was something the matter the morning after Willow first cut herself. They had been sitting in the cafeteria at school.
** "Hey Will. What's up?" Buffy slid into a chair at a round table that Willow already occupied.
"Uh, not much. How 'bout you?" Willow looked up briefly to see the smiling face of her best friend, but her eyes drifted back down to her tray and her sandwich. She tried to smile, but couldn't.
"I'm okay, you know, ignoring all of my homework and stuff. The usual. You sure you're okay?" Buffy's brow was wrinkled with concern.
"Not really. But I don't want to talk about it right now."
"Okay. I'm going to go grab some inedible stuff. I'll be back." Buffy had relented and wouldn't push the issue- for now that is. **
Later that day Willow had shown Buffy her wrists. She had spent the afternoon with her, just chatting, talking about movies and stuff. Around 3 a classmate of Buffy's had come over to do a project, so Willow thought it would be better if she just left. She didn't want to go, but she didn't want to be in the way, either.
** "Are you sure you want to go? You can stick around, you know. We're just gonna be watching a movie and figuring out how to use it in our presentation." Buffy was still concerned for her red-headed friend; she just wasn't usual Willow-y self.
"Yeah, I'm sure. I've got some homework to do that I've been ignoring for a couple of days- I shouldn't get too behind." Willow's voice was emotionless and flat as she spoke to her best friend. She tried to sound enthusiastic about her schoolwork- she had been in the past, but she just couldn't.
Stepping closer to Willow, Buffy wrapped her arms around her best friend. Something was wrong, she could feel the tension in the redheads shoulders, she even thought she could feel pain. Spider sense is good for something other than vamps, she thought.
As they broke the embrace, Willow pulled back, looked down at her wrists and spoke in a quiet, timid voice.
"Buffy?" That was all she said. She held her wrists out, facing up towards the slayer. Buffy looked Willow in the eyes for a moment before noticing her outstretched arms and upturned wrists. Looking down she saw the red marks, the cuts that stood testament to what Willow was going through.
"Oh, sweetie…" was all Buffy was able to say before she pulled her best friend into a bone-crushing embrace. They stood like that for awhile, neither willing to let the other go, the classmate in the living room long forgotten. Finally, Willow pulled back and looked Buffy in the eye. She put on her resolve face, determined to leave the Summer house with some sense of her dignity.
"I should go. You have work to do. I'll talk to you later, okay?" She began to turn towards the door, her resolve face fading as soon as she was out from under Buffy's gaze.
"Hey Will? I love you. You know that, right?"
"Yeah, Buffy. I love you, too." And with that Willow stepped out onto the porch. **
Sitting at her desk, Willow thought back to that day; she didn't understand why Buffy loved her, why she had ever become friends with her, even. She never felt worthy of the attention, of the friendship. No matter how many times Buffy had said that she cared, had shown she cared, Willow couldn't help but doubt that love. And she hated herself for it. Here was someone willing to show her the compassion she so desperately needed and she questioned it every step of the way. That day was no different. Buffy had called not long after Willow left, leaving a message on her machine before the redhead even got home. Would she come back for dinner that night? Of course, I would, Willow had thought at the time. The conversation over dinner had been awkward at first; neither friend knew what to say, where to start.
** "So…" Willow began.
"So. How are you, Will? Really, this time."
Willow looked down at her hands, her wrists. She couldn't seem to look Buffy in the eye. She felt so weak, she was so weak. Buffy must think she is so stupid, going and cutting herself. She didn't know what to say to her friend. Where do you begin? How do you explain emptiness? How do you explain numbness?
"Um, I'm not doing so good. But, I guess you could tell that."
"Yeah, I could tell as soon as I saw you at lunch. I know you Will. Can I ask you something?"
"Sure." Willow still couldn't look up into the eyes of her best friend, still couldn't face the judgment she was she was there.
"When do you do it?"
"Last night. It was a bad night."
There were a few moments of silence between the friends. Willow was sure Buffy was thinking that she was weak, stupid, crazy, even. Had she looked up, she would have noticed Buffy looking at her, trying to think, trying to process her thoughts, all the while with an expression of sadness mixed with pure love.
"Can I ask you another question?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Do you want me to keep what you used?" When Willow didn't answer, Buffy continued, cautiously. "I don't have to know what it was, but I can keep it for you, if you want."
"Yeah, that would probably be good."
Willow finally looked up into the eyes of her friend and what she saw there surprised her. She didn't see disgust or horror. What she saw was love and concern, and fear. She could feel the fear flowing off the slayer, like water off a duck's back.
"Buffy?"
"Yeah, Will?"
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to worry you. I'm sorry."
"Will, there's nothing for you to apologize for. Please don't say your sorry. Sorry for what? For telling me this? I'm glad you told me- I wish you would have called me last night, but I'm so glad you told me. I'm not going to lie to you- this scares me. You don't scare me, but I'm scared for you. I don't want you to hurt, Will."
"That's just the thing. I don't hurt. I mean, yes, physically I hurt, but emotionally there's nothing. I can't feel. I'm numb." Willow ran the fingers of her left hand over the scars on her right wrist, as if remembering each cut, each slice of the blade. "I don't know why I did it. I just know it seemed logical at the time. It's afterwards that my real logic kicks in and I feel stupid and guilty. But, I can't feel anything other than guilt. No pain, no fear, no hurt, no anger. Nothing towards myself."
As Willow grew quiet again, Buffy got up from across the table, walked over to her best friend, and folded her into strong slayer arms. She held the redhead for a very long time, tears falling from her eyes as she rubbed Willow's back softly. She wasn't sure if this was more helpful for her or Willow, but Buffy felt safer with her friend tucked securely in her arms. Willow, for her part, simply held on, feeling comforted, if just for a few minutes, and a little more secure than she had felt before. But, she couldn't cry. Even when she felt Buffy's tears hitting her face, she couldn't cry. There was no pain to force the tears. Emptiness does not let you cry, she thought. **
Buffy didn't leave Willow's side that night. But now, Willow was alone, sitting quietly in her room. A blade, different from the one she had first used, sat next to her notebook on the desk. Willow just sat there, hands in her lap, staring blankly down at the blade and her journal. She reached for her pen, and began to write again.
------I hate this. I hate this more than anything I have ever hated before. Because I can't feel anything about myself except loathing. And that is weak at best. I am so weak. So weak. I will never have the strength. I feel like I am in a box, and sometimes the walls seem almost invisible, like I could walk through them. But, as soon as I try they are steel again and I just keep running into them. And the box is shrinking, I think. It just gets smaller and smaller.-------
Willow put down her pen and looked at the blade again.
##########
"My mind is racing, as it always will."
- R.E.M.
Dark clouds moved in over Sunnydale and a light rain began to fall on the town, turning soon into a downpour. Though dark clouds in Sunnydale could mean a gathering evil, today they just meant it was going to rain. Buffy hardly noticed as she walked down the sidewalk, headed to Willow's house. Her parents were out of town and Buffy was worried; she hadn't heard from the girl the night before after she got in from patrolling and there had been no messages left with her mother. A chill worked its way through Buffy's body, produced not by the chill in the air, but the fear in her heart.
[Oh, Willow. I hope you didn't do anything. Please let her have just gotten too busy with her homework. ]
As she neared the Rosenberg house the chill in Buffy's body got worse- she began to visibly shake and by the time she reached the front door she was shivering so badly that her teeth were chattering. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so cold. It's not like Sunnydale was the Artic. Buffy reached out for the doorknob, not bothering with the knocker or doorbell- with Willow's parents out of town there was no reason for formalities. When she found it locked she simply pulled out the key Willow had given her for emergencies. Everyone in the Scooby Gang had keys to each others' houses; it was only logical.
[Well, at least she was in the state of mind to lock her door. Don't want any outside baddies getting to my Willow. If only I could lock a door to keep out the baddies in her head…] Buffy's thoughts drifted as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. The first floor was dark and quiet, the only sound coming from the sqeak of Buffy's sneakers on the floor.
"Willow? Hey Will? It's Buffy. I just stopped by to, um, see how you're doing." Buffy listened for a reply at the bottom of the stairs, holding her breath without realizing. After a moment and no response she called up again. "Will? Hey sleepyhead. It's one in the afternoon. Even I don't sleep this long!"
"Hi Buffy."
The voice came from behind her, causing Buffy to swing around 180 degrees. She peered into the dark living room, her eyes adjusting to the dark. She was able to make out Willow sitting on the couch, just sitting there, staring at the wall across from her. She didn't even look over at Buffy as she approached.
"Hey Will. Whatcha doing sitting in here with all the lights off? I know we're supposed to conserve energy, turn the lights off when we leave the room and all, but if you hadn't noticed you're still in the room." Buffy reached out to the nearest lamp, found the switch, and turned it on. Immediately the room was filled with a soft, warm light. What she saw when there was finally light in the room, though, didn't make Buffy feel soft and warm.
Willow was sitting on the couch, her hands in her lap, her sleeves pushed up to the elbows; her face was blank and her eyes empty as she turned her head to look at Buffy standing by the lamp.
"Buffy?" Willow spoke as she turned her head from the slayer again.
"Yeah, Will?" Moving slowly to the couch, Buffy sat down next to her best friend, close enough to be able to feel her physical presence, but still giving her space.
"How angry would you be if I did it again?" The question was quiet and timid, the voice of the Willow she first met two years ago.
"I wouldn't be angry at all, you know that. This doesn't make me mad, Willow. It scares me, but I could never be mad at you for it." Buffy spoke slowly and carefully, not wanting to startle the girl next to her; she wasn't even sure Willow had noticed her sit down.
"Okay. So, what if that wasn't a hypothetical question?"
"It wouldn't change my answer. I will never be angry at you for this, Will. Never. I promise and I don't break my promises." Buffy paused, collecting her thoughts. Willow continued to sit there, staring ahead. Tentatively reaching out, the slayer gently touched the redhead's hand, needing contact with her best friend. As Willow grasped the strong hand back she turned to look into those hazel eyes that could say so much in a single glance. Despite Buffy's words she was sure she'd see anger, disappointment. Something other than the unconditional love that was actually there. Willow relaxed somewhat and leaned into her best friend who instinctively wrapped strong slayer arms around her.
"Can I ask you a question, Will?" Buffy's voice was quiet, but Willow could feel it vibrate in her chest, the sound and touch soothing her. She nodded simply, not wanting to speak just yet. "Can you promise me something? Can you promise that when you are feeling like you are going to hurt yourself, that you'll try to call me? You can call me anytime of the night- it might take a couple of rings to wake me up, but you can, even if you just want me to sing 'Pop Goes the Weasel,' I will."
Willow could feel the sincerity in the slayer's words- there was something about being this close to her physically, it was as if she could feel her heart, every true emotion that Buffy had.
"I can try. I promise that I'll try. I thought of calling you last night, but I didn't want to wake you up and burden you. And, no offense or anything, but when I do it, the last thing that goes through my head is that I need to call you. Cause I don't know why I do it- it's as if I'm trying to force my body to feel the pain that I know is inside me, but that I can't feel."
"Oh, Will. You're not a burden to me, you could never be a burden. I'd rather be awakened at 3 am to know that you're safe and that you aren't hurting yourself than to have you hurt yourself. While I love my sleep I really feel that this is more important, that you are more important.
"Thank you. I love you."
"I love you, too, Will."
The two friends sat there in the Rosenberg living room for a long time, Buffy holding Willow, Willow holding onto Buffy with all her might. Neither wanted to let go, so they didn't. Buffy wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but she didn't care. There really were more important things in life than schoolwork, sleep, and patrolling. There was Willow. And right now Willow was the most critical and important aspect of Buffy's life.
For her part Willow just hung on to her best friend, feeling safe in her arms, comforted by her touch and smell. She didn't know what was causing this, and she didn't know how to stop it. But she was so grateful for Buffy right now.
[But, what happens if there is a day when I don't have Buffy to hug? What happens when I go to college and I don't have someone to turn to? That day scares me, the day when I am more alone than I feel right now.]
####################
"I had too much to drink, and I didn't think, I didn't think of you. I guess that's all I needed."
-R.E.M.
A half empty bottle of vodka stood silently on the Rosenburg kitchen table, the portable phone sat next to it, a small, pale hand resting on it, waiting. The room was dark, save for a single candle, but it was enough light to glint off the metal that lay on the other side of the vodka. Willow picked up the hand that was on the phone and reached for the bottle, pausing briefly over the shining metal, but finally connecting with the cool, smooth glass. It was good stuff, the vodka. Or, at least it was supposed to be. Willow didn't really care at this point- she could have been drinking rubbing alcohol and she wouldn't have noticed. She didn't even bother mixing it with juice anymore- just drank it straight from the bottle. Why get a glass dirty? She'd just have to wash it later. She'd been sitting there for a couple of hours, but she wasn't sure exactly how long; she gave up trying to read the clock awhile ago, her vision blurry from the drinking. Oh, well. It's better this way. The world is better blurry and numb. At least she knew where this numbness was coming from. In fact, she preferred the numbness the alcohol gave her over what the depression did to her.
She'd sat there, originally, looking at the blade, contemplating what to do next with her "life." She kept the phone next to her, unsure of whether to call Buffy or just try and deal with this herself. She hadn't done anything, yet. But, she didn't know if she could keep her promise.
[You're so fucking weak, Willow. Look at you- can't even get up the courage to call your best friend, tell her you're drunk off your ass, ask for help. You just sit here, wallowing in your own self pity, this misery, this depression. It's got claws in you, deeper in than even a hell demon.]
Willow didn't know what had happened to her life over the past few months. Everything had seemed fine- as fine as things could get on the Hellmouth. Buffy had come back from L.A., Angel was back, things were back to normal, she thought. There was even a new slayer. Things were as normal as they would ever be. And then she had started to feel the depression creep up on her again. She tried to ward it off- she thought that after her last bout it was gone, that she could control it enough to keep it away. She had been naïve and stupid, she realized that quickly. This wasn't something that was just going to go away cause she wanted it to. Things were never that easy. And the worst part was she had no idea where this was coming from, what was causing her to feel the way she did. Actually, scratch that. She didn't feel- she simply existed at this point. The only thing she could feel wasn't even for herself, for this situation- it was for Buffy. Loving Buffy, having Buffy there, that was the only thing that kept her going. For some reason the slayer had absolute faith in her, trusting that things would eventually be okay. Willow was glad someone could have faith cause she couldn't.
Taking one last drink of the vodka, finishing off the bottle, Willow placed it carefully down on the table and picked up the knife that lay next to it. She sat for a few moments with the blade poised above her left wrist, as if contemplating the veins, the blood coursing through her body. Bringing the sharpened edge down to her skin, Willow closed her eyes and pressed down, drawing the blade across the edge of her wrist, slowly, the pain coming instantly. After a couple of inches she picked up the knife and repeated the process, feeling the pain, feeling something. Even through the numbing blur of the alcohol she could feel the sharpness of the hurt and it brought a clarity to her mind. After the second cut she put the knife back down on the table and began to stare off into the dark kitchen once again. The initial clarity had faded, the numbness had returned, and all she had to show for that brief moment of pain were two ugly red marks on her wrist. There was no sudden solution, no awareness of what was causing this- just the clearness that pain brought- but it was just that- clear; there was nothing in that clarity.
Willow sat in her kitchen, an hour going by before she moved again. A casual observer would have thought she was meditating; if you asked her what she was thinking about, she wouldn't have been able to tell you- to her that hour went by in a minute.
Picking up the phone, Willow dialed Buffy's number; unsure of what to tell her, unable to admit she had broken her promise again, she simply asked her to come over. And then Willow began to cry for the first time in months. She was not crying for the pain she had caused herself, but for the pain she knew she would see in her best friend's face.
#################
On her way over to Willow's, Buffy's mind was filled with many thoughts. First and foremost was how much she loved her best friend, and just how scared it made her to know that Willow was so close to the edge. She didn't want to lose her, but the slayer didn't know how to save her either- this wasn't a vampire or a demon that Willow was up against. Buffy knew if it were physical presence that was threatening her Willow that she'd be able to just fight it without thinking- it would be completely instinctual. As it was, her instincts to protect her best friend were in overdrive, but those instincts didn't tell her how to go about it. The only thing she knew she could do was be there for Willow whenever she needed her- even if it was 3 am (as it was at that moment). She'd do anything for her redheaded friend. As Buffy reached the Rosenberg residence she realized with absolute clarity that she would die for this girl who she loved more than anything.
Willow must have been watching for Buffy from the house because she met her on the porch as the slayer climbed the steps. The two friends embraced immediately, holding tightly to the other as if both their lives depended on it. Willow truly felt that at this point her life did depend on how hard she held onto Buffy; her best friend was the only thing keeping her going at this point, the only thing she felt she could really live for.
Breaking the hug for a moment, Buffy led Willow back inside her house, locking the door behind them. As soon as she had done that she reached out for her best friend again, gathering the redhead into her arms. Willow ducked her head and laid it against Buffy's chest, who in turn placed her chin on top of the silky red locks. With one hand rubbing the girl's back, the slayer brought her other hand up to Willow's head, softly stroking her hair, running her fingers through the strands as she tried to be of some comfort.
No words passed between the friends for nearly twenty minutes; they just stood there, consumed in the presence of the other. Slowly, not wanting to break the contact, but wishing to move out of the entry way to the house, Buffy pulled away from Willow and looked down at the face of her best friend. What she saw broke her heart and brought tears to her eyes- she saw so much pain, so much torment, and so much confusion it hurt to see that in the person she loved most in the world. Looking closer, Buffy noticed that Willow's eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying recently. She hated to see her friend cry, but the slayer knew this might actually be a good thing, that Willow might actually be feeling something, after being numb for so long.
"Hey Wills?" Buffy finally broke the silence, drawing up the redhead's face so that she could look her in the eyes. "Have you been crying?"
The reply was quiet, almost inaudible, but Buffy could just make out the "yes" coming from her friend's lips.
"Why? I don't mean to push or anything, or to imply that you shouldn't have been crying- I was just wondering cause you had said before that you couldn't cry, cause you couldn't feel anything. I mean, if you don't want to tell me that's okay. I understand." Buffy ended her ramble and looked into Willow's eyes. She wasn't sure what she saw in them, but she thought maybe she could make out distant hope, and that was all she needed to know that she could still save her best friend.
"I-I, uh… I k-knew that when y-you saw me you'd be h-hurt at w-what you saw." Willow had begun shaking so hard that she was stuttering, her teeth chattering. She paused, took a deep breath and began again, this time with a little less shaking. "I haven't been able to cry for what I've done to myself, but I've seen how it affects you and that is what has made me cry. Knowing that this hurts you, that you are worried about me, that is what, in the end, makes me cry, makes me upset. The last thing I want is to hurt you, but it does and I hate that. I don't want you to hurt- I love you too much." Willow sighed before going on. "I love you Buffy. I can't love myself right now, but I love you with all my heart, however much that is worth. I can't feel for myself, but I can feel emotion for you. Without that I have no hope. But sometimes not even that is enough…." Willow trailed off and leaned into Buffy again, as if the short speech had exhausted any reserves she had left. For her part Buffy just held on tighter than before, knowing that she never wanted to let the girl go again.
Buffy opened her mouth after a few minutes, ready to tell Willow what she had been thinking, but as she did she looked down at the redhead and saw that her eyes were closed and her breathing had slowed to a gentle rhythm. So instead Buffy carefully gathered her best friend up into her powerful arms, and mounted the stairs, headed for Willow's room. Gently laying the girl on the unmade bed, Buffy broke contact long enough to slip off her jacket and shoes before climbing into the small bed and pulling Willow into her arms. Not knowing if this was more of a comfort for Willow or herself, Buffy drifted off into sleep with Willow's head tucked under her chin, their bodies close and snug together. A thought far back in her mind of just how nice this felt was barely forming as the slayer fell into a deep and restful sleep.
###################
"Go it along and hold it along, haul it along and hold it."
-R.E.M.
Willow woke up the next morning, vaguely aware that there was someone else in her small bed with her. As the cobwebs left her head and she began to stir it became quite clear who that someone was; the strong arms of the slayer were wrapped around her middle, Buffy's face buried in her back, her whole body pressed closely to Willow's. Unable to really move, and not willing to wake her best friend just yet, Willow simply lay there, brought her arm up so she could look at her wrist, and just stared for awhile. The cuts hadn't bled for long, but they were raised and very red today- and they hurt. She knew if she touched them they would hurt even more, and that they would be a very physical reminder of what was inside her. These she could see- these cuts were something tangible, something she could feel, could look at and know how they got there, who had done it. They were pain, and they were hers.
The two friends did not move for another twenty minutes, one sleeping silently, one wide awake, lost in her own thoughts, in her own soul. As Buffy began to awaken, though, she pulled Willow closer, buried her face into the space where her shoulder and neck met, as if on instinct. Willow simply let her, not protesting, but knowing that it wasn't really her that Buffy was snuggling up with- she was probably dreaming of Angel. The redhead let herself enjoy her friend's embrace for a few more minutes before giving into the inevitable truth of Buffy waking up and realizing it was Willow in her arms, and not Angel. For those few minutes, though, Willow was able to shut out everything, all the numbness, all the pain, and just imagine that this was real, that Buffy was holding onto *her*. She only allowed herself a few minutes and then peeled back the arms of the slayer and sat up in the crowded bed.
Noticing instantly the sudden loss of Willow from her arms, Buffy woke up completely, opening her eyes to see her friend's back as she sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the window.
"Hey Will. Um, did you sleep okay?"
"Hmm?" Willow, slowly turned towards Buffy, looking at the Slayer for the first time since that morning. "Oh, yeah. Like a rock- out, I mean. I don't even remember coming up to bed." Her voice was flat, with little emotion in it- but there was still some emotion there; Buffy could just barely hear it.
"Well, that's cause you didn't walk up here. I carried you. You fell asleep in my arms last night in the hallway. You must've been pretty tired. I, uh, I thought it might be better if I spend the night." Buffy paused, looked down at her hands and then rushed on. "I hope you don't mind. I didn't want to leave you alone Will. I was scared." Buffy's voice got very quiet as she said those last words, but she looked directly into Willow's eyes, trying to see the redhead's soul.
Willow looked back for a minute and then down at her own hands, at her wrist. There were faint scares along with the new, ugly red lines. Reminders of what happens when she can't hold out any longer.
Without looking up, not able to look into her best friend's eyes, Willow began to talk, slowly at first. "I tried, Buffy, I really did. I tried to keep my promise, to not hurt myself. I tried so hard, but it wasn't good enough. I didn't try hard enough. I couldn't keep going. I wanted to do it, I still want to do it. The urge doesn't go away, you know. It's always here, always in the back of my mind. I-I can't make it go away." Willow looked up, then, meeting Buffy's eyes. "I'm so scared, Buffy. I'm so tired, and this all just keeps piling up. I don't think I can do this any more, this holding out."
"Will…" Buffy began, but trailed off as Willow started to talk again.
"I've looked up how to hurt myself, to kill myself, on the internet. There are a lot of different ways, you know. Sometimes, when I ride my bike to school, I think of how easy it would be, to just swerve into traffic- it would look like an accident and be over quickly."
Buffy didn't know what to say- she looked at her best friend, as if for the first time. It felt like there was a hand squeezing her heart while a fist punched her in the gut. She couldn't breathe- her chest hurt so much, each shallow breath was painful. "I…." She swallowed the lump in her throat, which felt like it was closing up. That pain that you feel in the back of your mouth, at the top of your throat, when you're about to cry, when you can barely hold it back, but still have to- it was there and Buffy tried to speak around it.
"I don't know what to say, Willow. I don't know what to do. I didn't know. I want to help you, more than anything. But, I just don't know what to do anymore." Buffy's composure was almost gone; her eyes were glistening, shining with unshed tears, the pain in the back of her mouth getting worse.
Willow stood up shakily, her legs feeling a lot like wet noodles, her knees ready to give out on her, and walked around the end of the bed towards to the side Buffy was sitting on. When the blonde looked up at her, Willow crumbled and began to sob uncontrollably. Buffy caught her as her knees finally gave out and pulled the redhead onto her lap, tucking her into strong slayer arms. Her own tears began to fall freely from her eyes, then, sliding silently down her cheeks as Willow shook uncontrollably in her arms.
It scared Buffy more than anything to see Willow like this- it scared her even more than the cutting had originally; her friend was losing her grip on things, her world was crumbling, and Buffy felt so helpless; she would trade all of her superpowers to help Willow if she could. What good were superpowers if the one person in the world you wanted to protect the most was in so much pain that she wanted to die and there was no way superpowers could stop it? Super strength was not going to make Willow's depression go away; Buffy's slayer healing wasn't going to make the scars on Willow's wrists fade into distant memories. Buffy didn't know what to do, and that scared her.
Willow's sobs began to slow, her shaking body slowing to small trembling, until she was quiet and still. She held onto Buffy with all her might, not wanting to let go, not wanting to face anything ever again. Why couldn't she just stay like this? It was so much easier when she didn't have to deal with it, when she could pretend that the only world was in Buffy's arms. But, Willow knew better than that. She carefully lifted her head to look into Buffy's face which was mere inches from her own. Willow saw the tears that were still slipping out of her friend's eyes and sliding silently down moist cheeks; she let go of Buffy and brought her hands up to the blonde's face, slowly wiping away the tears, gently with her thumbs.
"Don't cry, Buffy. I hate seeing you cry. It hurts me more than anything to see you cry because of me. Please, don't cry."
"I think I could say the same to you, Will."
"Yeah. I know." There was silence between the two friends then as they held onto each other, both scared and tired.
"Hey, why don't we go downstairs, have some coffee and talk, okay?" Buffy's voice was quiet and soothing in Willow's ear after a few more minutes of silence.
"Sure, okay."
With that, Willow stood up, only noticing then that she'd been on Buffy's lap. Hesitating for a brief moment, she took Buffy's hand and led her best friend down the stairs.
#######################
"This could be the saddest dusk I've ever seen."
-R.E.M.
Down in the kitchen Buffy made coffee while Willow sat at the table, hands folded, staring down at her wrists. When the coffee was done, a mug was set down in front of the redhead who made no move to pick it up. Buffy sat down to the right of Willow, her own mug held tightly in her hands. They sat there like that for awhile, Willow staring down, Buffy looking at the top of Willow's head, neither of them saying a word. The afternoon sunlight was streaming in through the kitchen windows, illuminating the dust particles that floated in the air, sparkling and drifting. They had slept longer than Buffy had originally thought; the clock above the sink read 1:38; she knew she should call her mom, let her know that she was still at Willows, but that could wait a little longer. It wasn't a school day, so Joyce wouldn't be too worried just yet.
When the clock read 1:53, Buffy finally broke the silence. She had finished her coffee, but Willow's still sat untouched, cold by now, in front of her, head still down, hands still clasped. The redhead hadn't moved in nearly twenty minutes.
"Will, I- uh." Buffy stopped, unsure that what she was going to say would be right. "I think maybe you need to talk to someone. Someone who isn't me, you know? Some who would know what to do to help you. I wish I knew what to do, knew the answers, but I don't."
The room got quiet again as Buffy waited for her friend to answer; after a few minutes she wasn't sure Willow would say anything, but then the redhead began to speak softly.
"Has this been too much for you? I mean, I understand if it is- I would be too much for me and wouldn't want to listen anymore, either. I'm sorry, Buffy."
"For, what? I don't mind, Will. I want you to tell me, to come to me- I will always be here for you; but I can't solve this. There are people who can help you, though. You can still talk to me, you can always talk to me. It just might be good for you to talk to someone else, too. I can't slay this for you."
"I know. I don't expect you to." Willow was quiet again, thinking about what Buffy had just said. She hated herself right now. Hated herself for doubting Buffy, for not trusting her to always be there, no matter how many times she says she will. Willow wanted to believe, but to her there was a flaw deep down in her soul that kept her from fully trusting anyone to love her, to really love her, to never go away and just leave her. People had said they'd be there in the past, her parents, Xander, and now Buffy. Her parents weren't here; their idea of dealing with their daughter's depression was to not deal; after the first noticeable major bout last year while Angel terrorized the Scooby Gang they had gotten frustrated with her, said she wasn't trying hard enough. So, now they were somewhere in Europe; they hadn't been around when she was in the coma, hadn't even come back. And Xander. He had Cordelia. When she found them kissing, she felt so betrayed, so hurt; Willow just couldn't bring herself to fully trust him anymore.
Now Buffy. Buffy had been so caught up with Angelus she barely noticed Willow falling apart; it was only after she'd come back from LA that they'd really talked about it. Willow knew Buffy'd had a lot to deal with last year, and didn't really blame her for not noticing; the Slayer hadn't exactly been the picture of perfect mental health herself. When she came back, though, when they finally talked about everything, about Angel, about the depression, Buffy had promised to always be there, had told Willow how much she loved her. And Willow believed her; but there was something inside her that just kept putting doubts in her head. And she hated that. She hated doubting Buffy's love, especially because she knew Buffy could see that doubt. Willow was sure that someday she would use her last Get Out of Jail Free card with Buffy, that one day Buffy would just say no, turn her back, walk away. She didn't want that to happen.
Willow thought all of this as she sat there in her kitchen, Buffy's worried gaze fixed on her down-turned head. She waited a couple more minutes, and then she began to speak. She told Buffy everything that had just run through her head, about the trust, about being scared of losing their friendship. It all came tumbling out in a babble of words that only a Scooby could truly appreciate, much less understand. When she was done she took a deep breath, let it out, and let her shoulders sag; her face looked worn and tired, much older than her 18 years, her eyes resigned and dull.
Now it was Buffy's turn to contemplate her hands. How do you respond to that? How do you tell the woman you love more than anything in the world that you really mean it, that you aren't going anywhere? How could Buffy make Willow understand just how much she loved her? Not wanting Willow to have to wait for too long for her response, worried her silence might be taken for anger or disappointment, Buffy reached out and took Willows right hand in both of hers. It was cold and clammy, her palm sweaty, and shaking almost imperceptively.
"I know that what I'm about to say isn't going to solve anything, Will. And I will say it as many times as I have to, I'll say it every day for the rest of my life if that's what you need. But, I love you. I always have, and I always will. I love you so much. You are the last thing I think about when I go to bed at night, and my first thought in the morning is you, too. I- I love you. I worry about you, and I'm scared. But, that doesn't mean I don't love you, Will. I could never not love you. You're why I came back from LA. You're why I go out every night and do my duty, because I know that I am keeping you safe." Buffy paused briefly, not sure if she should go on, but before she could lose her confidence, she began to speak again.
"I don't want to lose you, Will. I don't know what I would do without you. I thought losing Angel would be the worst feeling that I would ever have. But I don't' think it was. Cause when I think that I could lose you, that this could get the better of you, it scares me so much, and it hurts more than losing Angel ever did. You are more than my best friend, Will. You are so special, so wonderful, so beautiful, and I love you."
As Buffy said those last few words, she brought Willow's hand up to her lips and kissed it gently. She looked into her friend's eyes, unsure of what Willow was thinking, but seeing tears at the corners. Taking her left hand from Willow's, Buffy reached out and gently caressed the redhead's cheek, a tear running down and into her hand as she did so. Without letting go of Willow's hand, Buffy stood up, pulling Willow up with her. Instead of embracing her, wrapping her arms around her as she usually did, Buffy stepped in, raised her head a few inches, and gently kissed Willow on the forehead. It was a soft, warm kiss, meant to convey more than words could ever do. But, Buffy knew it wasn't enough. Without looking back, or allowing herself to think about what she could be doing to Willow's state of mind right now, Buffy lowered her head again and brought their lips together. The kiss was not a chaste kiss of a friend, nor the passionate kiss of a lover. It was not deep, but it wasn't a peck, either. It was simply a kiss that carried so much love, so much pain, and so much hope that Buffy thought her heart would explode. The kiss didn't last long and wasn't followed by more. Instead, the Slayer pulled Willow into her arms and held her with all of her might, gently rubbing her back, until she could feel Willow's muscles relax as she fell asleep again. Carefully picking up her best friend, Buffy made her way back up the stairs to the bedroom. After tucking Willow into her bed once more, Buffy sat at the neatly arranged desk, turning the chair around so that she could watch the sleeping girl.
The room was quiet as Buffy watched Willow and let her mind drift over what was going to happen now. She was unsure, really. The only thing she knew was that Willow was not going to pull out of this by herself, and that it would take a long time. But she would be there, in anyway that Willow wanted her. Buffy would wait, and she would help.
#####################
"Turn to a miracle, high alive."
--R.E.M.
Buffy sat for most of the afternoon, watching Willow as she slept, trying to think of how to help her best friend, and trying to reconcile the feelings she was having towards the redhead. She had known for a little while now that Willow meant much more to her than just a friend, but she was scared of what such a revelation to could do to her already fragile mental state. The kiss was a start, but Buffy didn't know where to go from there.
Around 5pm, after calling her mom and letting her know she was going to spend the night at Willow's again, Buffy quietly climbed into the hacker's bed and pulled her close. The contact woke Willow who unconsciously snuggled further down into the arms that had enveloped her. It was a warm, safe place, and both friends felt calmed by the other's presence.
"Good evening, sleepyhead," Buffy said softly into the crook of Willow's neck where she had buried her face. "Feeling any better?"
"Mmmm. I feel warm and safe at the moment. But, I always feel warm and safe when I'm with you. Sometimes it's the only time I feel safe." Willow's tone was quiet and even, but Buffy could tell there was something else under it and began to worry. She wondered if she should be holding her like this, if she should have kissed her earlier. Doubt enveloped the slayer's mind like a cloud, but before she could feel too guilty, Buffy was drawn out of her thoughts by Willow shifting so the two friends were laying face to face.
"Buffy…?" the redhead started hesitantly.
"Yeah, Will?"
"Why can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Why did you kiss me before?"
Buffy was silent as she thought of how to answer her best friend's question. Why had she kissed Willow? She originally thought it was just to comfort her, but it occurred to the slayer afterwards that she had been wanting to kiss her for sometime now. Had even dreamed of it, among other racier things. But, was this the time to bring up those feelings? She was still worried that Willow couldn't handle a possible change in their relationship.
"Well… um… I…" The slayer didn't know where to start and could only get out a couple of incoherent sounds once she began speaking. Unfortunately Willow took this to mean that she had upset Buffy, jumping to the conclusion that the blonde woman had regretted the kiss and mentally kicked herself for bringing it up.
[Stupid Willow. Stupid. Way to go. As if your life didn't suck enough. Now you have to go and mention something that probably meant nothing and push away the one person you can count on, the one person who you feel safe with. Great.]
Buffy sensed an immediate change in Willow- the air around the hacker changed tangibly and she could tell that her friend was upset. Willow closed her eyes and tears began to slowly slide down her face, across her nose, and hitting the pillow below. Buffy reached up and gently caressed a tear-streaked cheek, unsure of where to begin, knowing she needed to say something.
"Will-no. Please don't get upset. I didn't mean to sound all- well, dumb, I guess. Please don't get upset. I just didn't know what to say it's complicated."
"What's complicated?" The questioning voice was so meek, so full of pain that it tore Buffy's heart out just hearing it. She knew then that no matter what she needed to tell Will how she felt. It would only make things worse to keep things hidden from her troubled friend.
"Why I kissed you. And how I feel about you. I told you earlier that you mean the world to me and that I love you, right?" Buffy paused before jumping in with both feet. It was now or never, their friendship and whatever else that was between them depended on what she said next. "What I didn't say, what I wanted to say but was too scared to, was that I don't just love you, Will. I'm IN love with you. I have been for awhile, I think. I'm not sure, really, when it happened, but that doesn't matter now. All that matters is that you're in pain, and that you're hurting yourself, and that I need you to know that no matter what happens, or what you do, I will always love you."
"D-did you say that you're in love with me?"
"Yeah, I did. And I understand if you don't want to deal with this right now, or ever. It might be more than you want to handle. But, I couldn't keep it from you- you would have known I was holding something back, and I didn't want you to think it was something bad and get upset. I guess that's why I kissed you. I wanted you to know that there is only love here."
Willow opened her eyes and looked into the face of her best friend. She could tell instantly that Buffy wasn't lying, wasn't saying this just to make her feel better. If there was one thing she was sure about in this world, it was that she could tell if Buffy was lying or telling the truth. And that instant Willow felt a small spark of hope for the first time in months.
A small smile appeared on the tired hacker's face, the first smile Buffy had witnessed in a very long time. It wasn't huge, but it reached her green eyes and made the slayer feel a tingle deep down inside. She realized then just how much she had missed her best friend's smile, and just how much she wanted to make her smile every day for the rest of her life.
Pulling Willow closer still, Buffy leaned in and captured the smiling lips for the second time that day. This time the kiss was something more than a comfort, it was a reassurance, and affirmation of everything Buffy had just said. It was calm at first, as Buffy was still unsure of how Willow would react, but as soon as the redhead deepened the kiss she had her answer. Willow's mouth parted slightly, inviting the slayer in and Buffy gladly accepted the invitation. The kiss grew more passionate as the minutes passed, both girls becoming more and more breathless and aroused as they explored the other's mouth. Buffy pulled back briefly to catch her breath, but didn't let the redhead have time to miss the connection as she began to kiss and nibble down Willow's neck, finding her pulse point which indicated a rapidly beating heart. Willow for her part, began to run her left hand through the slayer's blonde hair, unable to do much more as her mind began to hum in a pleasure she had never before felt.
After a few more minutes of attention paid to Willow's neck, Buffy pulled back, breathing heavily, and simply looked at the beautiful woman laying in front of her. A warmth seemed to be radiating off of the redhead that Buffy had never felt before and realized that she had caused it. She wanted nothing more than to continue to make Willow feel that way, but knew that the two friends needed to talk before things went farther. There was still the matter of Willow's depression, and the possibility of what could happen between them could make things more complicated.
"Will? How about we go downstairs and have some dinner? Then I think we should talk."
Feeling a little more sure of herself, and much safer for the time being, Willow simply nodded her head and pulled the slayer in for a warm embrace before they got up. She knew that there was a lot to be talked about, and that there were going to be very hard times in the future, but for the first time she was sure that she wouldn't have to go through it alone. And while this didn't solve things, and couldn't really, it gave Willow a sense of hope that hadn't been there the night before.
To Be Continued in "Fascinating New Thing."
Author: dap311
Pairing: B/W eventually
Rating: R (to be safe; some is PG-13)
Disclaimers: Buffy and Willow belong to Joss and Mutant Enemy. "Half a World Away" is Berry/Buck/Mills/Stipe (R.E.M.) off the album Out of Time.
Spoilers: This is set during their senior year in high school, after events of Season 2, but diverges. There is no Oz is this universe.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Summary: Willow is fighting depression, Buffy tries to help her.
** is flashback
----- text ------ indicates writing, such as a journal entry.
[Willow's thoughts]
"My hand's tired, my heart aches, I'm half a world away."
R.E.M.
Willow sat at her desk, pen in her hand, notebook open in front of her, trying to figure out what was going on in her life.
------I feel so alone right now- I don't know what is wrong with me. One minute I'm fine, happy, getting along with the gang, and the next minute I can't speak, I can't smile, it's like I'm frozen- my mind, my heart, my soul. I don't feel anything then. I'm numb and frustrated. I've been depressed before- how could I not, being the school geek and all. But, I thought that all ended when Buffy came to town- I finally felt apart of something other than the "We hate Cordelia Club." But, that feeling of belonging faded- I'm back to feeling empty and lost. I don't have the energy to go to class, but I do. I don't have the motivation to do my homework, except to keep up the appearance of normality. For all anyone else knows I'm doing just fine. Good ol' Willow- she's just super! But, I'm not. I wish I were- I would give anything to feel normal again. The only person who knows is Buffy, but I hate burdening her- she's got enough to think about, saving the world and everything.-----
She stopped writing and looked down at her wrists. There were two parallel scars running along her right wrist and about five small cuts on the outside of her left wrist. They were fainter now; a week ago they had been red, loud testaments to the anguish Willow was going through. She didn't tell anyone other than Buffy; she felt too ashamed of her own actions to admit to hurting herself. But she couldn't lie to Buffy, to her best friend. Even if she had tried Buffy would have known something was up. As it was she knew there was something the matter the morning after Willow first cut herself. They had been sitting in the cafeteria at school.
** "Hey Will. What's up?" Buffy slid into a chair at a round table that Willow already occupied.
"Uh, not much. How 'bout you?" Willow looked up briefly to see the smiling face of her best friend, but her eyes drifted back down to her tray and her sandwich. She tried to smile, but couldn't.
"I'm okay, you know, ignoring all of my homework and stuff. The usual. You sure you're okay?" Buffy's brow was wrinkled with concern.
"Not really. But I don't want to talk about it right now."
"Okay. I'm going to go grab some inedible stuff. I'll be back." Buffy had relented and wouldn't push the issue- for now that is. **
Later that day Willow had shown Buffy her wrists. She had spent the afternoon with her, just chatting, talking about movies and stuff. Around 3 a classmate of Buffy's had come over to do a project, so Willow thought it would be better if she just left. She didn't want to go, but she didn't want to be in the way, either.
** "Are you sure you want to go? You can stick around, you know. We're just gonna be watching a movie and figuring out how to use it in our presentation." Buffy was still concerned for her red-headed friend; she just wasn't usual Willow-y self.
"Yeah, I'm sure. I've got some homework to do that I've been ignoring for a couple of days- I shouldn't get too behind." Willow's voice was emotionless and flat as she spoke to her best friend. She tried to sound enthusiastic about her schoolwork- she had been in the past, but she just couldn't.
Stepping closer to Willow, Buffy wrapped her arms around her best friend. Something was wrong, she could feel the tension in the redheads shoulders, she even thought she could feel pain. Spider sense is good for something other than vamps, she thought.
As they broke the embrace, Willow pulled back, looked down at her wrists and spoke in a quiet, timid voice.
"Buffy?" That was all she said. She held her wrists out, facing up towards the slayer. Buffy looked Willow in the eyes for a moment before noticing her outstretched arms and upturned wrists. Looking down she saw the red marks, the cuts that stood testament to what Willow was going through.
"Oh, sweetie…" was all Buffy was able to say before she pulled her best friend into a bone-crushing embrace. They stood like that for awhile, neither willing to let the other go, the classmate in the living room long forgotten. Finally, Willow pulled back and looked Buffy in the eye. She put on her resolve face, determined to leave the Summer house with some sense of her dignity.
"I should go. You have work to do. I'll talk to you later, okay?" She began to turn towards the door, her resolve face fading as soon as she was out from under Buffy's gaze.
"Hey Will? I love you. You know that, right?"
"Yeah, Buffy. I love you, too." And with that Willow stepped out onto the porch. **
Sitting at her desk, Willow thought back to that day; she didn't understand why Buffy loved her, why she had ever become friends with her, even. She never felt worthy of the attention, of the friendship. No matter how many times Buffy had said that she cared, had shown she cared, Willow couldn't help but doubt that love. And she hated herself for it. Here was someone willing to show her the compassion she so desperately needed and she questioned it every step of the way. That day was no different. Buffy had called not long after Willow left, leaving a message on her machine before the redhead even got home. Would she come back for dinner that night? Of course, I would, Willow had thought at the time. The conversation over dinner had been awkward at first; neither friend knew what to say, where to start.
** "So…" Willow began.
"So. How are you, Will? Really, this time."
Willow looked down at her hands, her wrists. She couldn't seem to look Buffy in the eye. She felt so weak, she was so weak. Buffy must think she is so stupid, going and cutting herself. She didn't know what to say to her friend. Where do you begin? How do you explain emptiness? How do you explain numbness?
"Um, I'm not doing so good. But, I guess you could tell that."
"Yeah, I could tell as soon as I saw you at lunch. I know you Will. Can I ask you something?"
"Sure." Willow still couldn't look up into the eyes of her best friend, still couldn't face the judgment she was she was there.
"When do you do it?"
"Last night. It was a bad night."
There were a few moments of silence between the friends. Willow was sure Buffy was thinking that she was weak, stupid, crazy, even. Had she looked up, she would have noticed Buffy looking at her, trying to think, trying to process her thoughts, all the while with an expression of sadness mixed with pure love.
"Can I ask you another question?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Do you want me to keep what you used?" When Willow didn't answer, Buffy continued, cautiously. "I don't have to know what it was, but I can keep it for you, if you want."
"Yeah, that would probably be good."
Willow finally looked up into the eyes of her friend and what she saw there surprised her. She didn't see disgust or horror. What she saw was love and concern, and fear. She could feel the fear flowing off the slayer, like water off a duck's back.
"Buffy?"
"Yeah, Will?"
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to worry you. I'm sorry."
"Will, there's nothing for you to apologize for. Please don't say your sorry. Sorry for what? For telling me this? I'm glad you told me- I wish you would have called me last night, but I'm so glad you told me. I'm not going to lie to you- this scares me. You don't scare me, but I'm scared for you. I don't want you to hurt, Will."
"That's just the thing. I don't hurt. I mean, yes, physically I hurt, but emotionally there's nothing. I can't feel. I'm numb." Willow ran the fingers of her left hand over the scars on her right wrist, as if remembering each cut, each slice of the blade. "I don't know why I did it. I just know it seemed logical at the time. It's afterwards that my real logic kicks in and I feel stupid and guilty. But, I can't feel anything other than guilt. No pain, no fear, no hurt, no anger. Nothing towards myself."
As Willow grew quiet again, Buffy got up from across the table, walked over to her best friend, and folded her into strong slayer arms. She held the redhead for a very long time, tears falling from her eyes as she rubbed Willow's back softly. She wasn't sure if this was more helpful for her or Willow, but Buffy felt safer with her friend tucked securely in her arms. Willow, for her part, simply held on, feeling comforted, if just for a few minutes, and a little more secure than she had felt before. But, she couldn't cry. Even when she felt Buffy's tears hitting her face, she couldn't cry. There was no pain to force the tears. Emptiness does not let you cry, she thought. **
Buffy didn't leave Willow's side that night. But now, Willow was alone, sitting quietly in her room. A blade, different from the one she had first used, sat next to her notebook on the desk. Willow just sat there, hands in her lap, staring blankly down at the blade and her journal. She reached for her pen, and began to write again.
------I hate this. I hate this more than anything I have ever hated before. Because I can't feel anything about myself except loathing. And that is weak at best. I am so weak. So weak. I will never have the strength. I feel like I am in a box, and sometimes the walls seem almost invisible, like I could walk through them. But, as soon as I try they are steel again and I just keep running into them. And the box is shrinking, I think. It just gets smaller and smaller.-------
Willow put down her pen and looked at the blade again.
##########
"My mind is racing, as it always will."
- R.E.M.
Dark clouds moved in over Sunnydale and a light rain began to fall on the town, turning soon into a downpour. Though dark clouds in Sunnydale could mean a gathering evil, today they just meant it was going to rain. Buffy hardly noticed as she walked down the sidewalk, headed to Willow's house. Her parents were out of town and Buffy was worried; she hadn't heard from the girl the night before after she got in from patrolling and there had been no messages left with her mother. A chill worked its way through Buffy's body, produced not by the chill in the air, but the fear in her heart.
[Oh, Willow. I hope you didn't do anything. Please let her have just gotten too busy with her homework. ]
As she neared the Rosenberg house the chill in Buffy's body got worse- she began to visibly shake and by the time she reached the front door she was shivering so badly that her teeth were chattering. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so cold. It's not like Sunnydale was the Artic. Buffy reached out for the doorknob, not bothering with the knocker or doorbell- with Willow's parents out of town there was no reason for formalities. When she found it locked she simply pulled out the key Willow had given her for emergencies. Everyone in the Scooby Gang had keys to each others' houses; it was only logical.
[Well, at least she was in the state of mind to lock her door. Don't want any outside baddies getting to my Willow. If only I could lock a door to keep out the baddies in her head…] Buffy's thoughts drifted as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. The first floor was dark and quiet, the only sound coming from the sqeak of Buffy's sneakers on the floor.
"Willow? Hey Will? It's Buffy. I just stopped by to, um, see how you're doing." Buffy listened for a reply at the bottom of the stairs, holding her breath without realizing. After a moment and no response she called up again. "Will? Hey sleepyhead. It's one in the afternoon. Even I don't sleep this long!"
"Hi Buffy."
The voice came from behind her, causing Buffy to swing around 180 degrees. She peered into the dark living room, her eyes adjusting to the dark. She was able to make out Willow sitting on the couch, just sitting there, staring at the wall across from her. She didn't even look over at Buffy as she approached.
"Hey Will. Whatcha doing sitting in here with all the lights off? I know we're supposed to conserve energy, turn the lights off when we leave the room and all, but if you hadn't noticed you're still in the room." Buffy reached out to the nearest lamp, found the switch, and turned it on. Immediately the room was filled with a soft, warm light. What she saw when there was finally light in the room, though, didn't make Buffy feel soft and warm.
Willow was sitting on the couch, her hands in her lap, her sleeves pushed up to the elbows; her face was blank and her eyes empty as she turned her head to look at Buffy standing by the lamp.
"Buffy?" Willow spoke as she turned her head from the slayer again.
"Yeah, Will?" Moving slowly to the couch, Buffy sat down next to her best friend, close enough to be able to feel her physical presence, but still giving her space.
"How angry would you be if I did it again?" The question was quiet and timid, the voice of the Willow she first met two years ago.
"I wouldn't be angry at all, you know that. This doesn't make me mad, Willow. It scares me, but I could never be mad at you for it." Buffy spoke slowly and carefully, not wanting to startle the girl next to her; she wasn't even sure Willow had noticed her sit down.
"Okay. So, what if that wasn't a hypothetical question?"
"It wouldn't change my answer. I will never be angry at you for this, Will. Never. I promise and I don't break my promises." Buffy paused, collecting her thoughts. Willow continued to sit there, staring ahead. Tentatively reaching out, the slayer gently touched the redhead's hand, needing contact with her best friend. As Willow grasped the strong hand back she turned to look into those hazel eyes that could say so much in a single glance. Despite Buffy's words she was sure she'd see anger, disappointment. Something other than the unconditional love that was actually there. Willow relaxed somewhat and leaned into her best friend who instinctively wrapped strong slayer arms around her.
"Can I ask you a question, Will?" Buffy's voice was quiet, but Willow could feel it vibrate in her chest, the sound and touch soothing her. She nodded simply, not wanting to speak just yet. "Can you promise me something? Can you promise that when you are feeling like you are going to hurt yourself, that you'll try to call me? You can call me anytime of the night- it might take a couple of rings to wake me up, but you can, even if you just want me to sing 'Pop Goes the Weasel,' I will."
Willow could feel the sincerity in the slayer's words- there was something about being this close to her physically, it was as if she could feel her heart, every true emotion that Buffy had.
"I can try. I promise that I'll try. I thought of calling you last night, but I didn't want to wake you up and burden you. And, no offense or anything, but when I do it, the last thing that goes through my head is that I need to call you. Cause I don't know why I do it- it's as if I'm trying to force my body to feel the pain that I know is inside me, but that I can't feel."
"Oh, Will. You're not a burden to me, you could never be a burden. I'd rather be awakened at 3 am to know that you're safe and that you aren't hurting yourself than to have you hurt yourself. While I love my sleep I really feel that this is more important, that you are more important.
"Thank you. I love you."
"I love you, too, Will."
The two friends sat there in the Rosenberg living room for a long time, Buffy holding Willow, Willow holding onto Buffy with all her might. Neither wanted to let go, so they didn't. Buffy wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but she didn't care. There really were more important things in life than schoolwork, sleep, and patrolling. There was Willow. And right now Willow was the most critical and important aspect of Buffy's life.
For her part Willow just hung on to her best friend, feeling safe in her arms, comforted by her touch and smell. She didn't know what was causing this, and she didn't know how to stop it. But she was so grateful for Buffy right now.
[But, what happens if there is a day when I don't have Buffy to hug? What happens when I go to college and I don't have someone to turn to? That day scares me, the day when I am more alone than I feel right now.]
####################
"I had too much to drink, and I didn't think, I didn't think of you. I guess that's all I needed."
-R.E.M.
A half empty bottle of vodka stood silently on the Rosenburg kitchen table, the portable phone sat next to it, a small, pale hand resting on it, waiting. The room was dark, save for a single candle, but it was enough light to glint off the metal that lay on the other side of the vodka. Willow picked up the hand that was on the phone and reached for the bottle, pausing briefly over the shining metal, but finally connecting with the cool, smooth glass. It was good stuff, the vodka. Or, at least it was supposed to be. Willow didn't really care at this point- she could have been drinking rubbing alcohol and she wouldn't have noticed. She didn't even bother mixing it with juice anymore- just drank it straight from the bottle. Why get a glass dirty? She'd just have to wash it later. She'd been sitting there for a couple of hours, but she wasn't sure exactly how long; she gave up trying to read the clock awhile ago, her vision blurry from the drinking. Oh, well. It's better this way. The world is better blurry and numb. At least she knew where this numbness was coming from. In fact, she preferred the numbness the alcohol gave her over what the depression did to her.
She'd sat there, originally, looking at the blade, contemplating what to do next with her "life." She kept the phone next to her, unsure of whether to call Buffy or just try and deal with this herself. She hadn't done anything, yet. But, she didn't know if she could keep her promise.
[You're so fucking weak, Willow. Look at you- can't even get up the courage to call your best friend, tell her you're drunk off your ass, ask for help. You just sit here, wallowing in your own self pity, this misery, this depression. It's got claws in you, deeper in than even a hell demon.]
Willow didn't know what had happened to her life over the past few months. Everything had seemed fine- as fine as things could get on the Hellmouth. Buffy had come back from L.A., Angel was back, things were back to normal, she thought. There was even a new slayer. Things were as normal as they would ever be. And then she had started to feel the depression creep up on her again. She tried to ward it off- she thought that after her last bout it was gone, that she could control it enough to keep it away. She had been naïve and stupid, she realized that quickly. This wasn't something that was just going to go away cause she wanted it to. Things were never that easy. And the worst part was she had no idea where this was coming from, what was causing her to feel the way she did. Actually, scratch that. She didn't feel- she simply existed at this point. The only thing she could feel wasn't even for herself, for this situation- it was for Buffy. Loving Buffy, having Buffy there, that was the only thing that kept her going. For some reason the slayer had absolute faith in her, trusting that things would eventually be okay. Willow was glad someone could have faith cause she couldn't.
Taking one last drink of the vodka, finishing off the bottle, Willow placed it carefully down on the table and picked up the knife that lay next to it. She sat for a few moments with the blade poised above her left wrist, as if contemplating the veins, the blood coursing through her body. Bringing the sharpened edge down to her skin, Willow closed her eyes and pressed down, drawing the blade across the edge of her wrist, slowly, the pain coming instantly. After a couple of inches she picked up the knife and repeated the process, feeling the pain, feeling something. Even through the numbing blur of the alcohol she could feel the sharpness of the hurt and it brought a clarity to her mind. After the second cut she put the knife back down on the table and began to stare off into the dark kitchen once again. The initial clarity had faded, the numbness had returned, and all she had to show for that brief moment of pain were two ugly red marks on her wrist. There was no sudden solution, no awareness of what was causing this- just the clearness that pain brought- but it was just that- clear; there was nothing in that clarity.
Willow sat in her kitchen, an hour going by before she moved again. A casual observer would have thought she was meditating; if you asked her what she was thinking about, she wouldn't have been able to tell you- to her that hour went by in a minute.
Picking up the phone, Willow dialed Buffy's number; unsure of what to tell her, unable to admit she had broken her promise again, she simply asked her to come over. And then Willow began to cry for the first time in months. She was not crying for the pain she had caused herself, but for the pain she knew she would see in her best friend's face.
#################
On her way over to Willow's, Buffy's mind was filled with many thoughts. First and foremost was how much she loved her best friend, and just how scared it made her to know that Willow was so close to the edge. She didn't want to lose her, but the slayer didn't know how to save her either- this wasn't a vampire or a demon that Willow was up against. Buffy knew if it were physical presence that was threatening her Willow that she'd be able to just fight it without thinking- it would be completely instinctual. As it was, her instincts to protect her best friend were in overdrive, but those instincts didn't tell her how to go about it. The only thing she knew she could do was be there for Willow whenever she needed her- even if it was 3 am (as it was at that moment). She'd do anything for her redheaded friend. As Buffy reached the Rosenberg residence she realized with absolute clarity that she would die for this girl who she loved more than anything.
Willow must have been watching for Buffy from the house because she met her on the porch as the slayer climbed the steps. The two friends embraced immediately, holding tightly to the other as if both their lives depended on it. Willow truly felt that at this point her life did depend on how hard she held onto Buffy; her best friend was the only thing keeping her going at this point, the only thing she felt she could really live for.
Breaking the hug for a moment, Buffy led Willow back inside her house, locking the door behind them. As soon as she had done that she reached out for her best friend again, gathering the redhead into her arms. Willow ducked her head and laid it against Buffy's chest, who in turn placed her chin on top of the silky red locks. With one hand rubbing the girl's back, the slayer brought her other hand up to Willow's head, softly stroking her hair, running her fingers through the strands as she tried to be of some comfort.
No words passed between the friends for nearly twenty minutes; they just stood there, consumed in the presence of the other. Slowly, not wanting to break the contact, but wishing to move out of the entry way to the house, Buffy pulled away from Willow and looked down at the face of her best friend. What she saw broke her heart and brought tears to her eyes- she saw so much pain, so much torment, and so much confusion it hurt to see that in the person she loved most in the world. Looking closer, Buffy noticed that Willow's eyes were red and puffy, as if she had been crying recently. She hated to see her friend cry, but the slayer knew this might actually be a good thing, that Willow might actually be feeling something, after being numb for so long.
"Hey Wills?" Buffy finally broke the silence, drawing up the redhead's face so that she could look her in the eyes. "Have you been crying?"
The reply was quiet, almost inaudible, but Buffy could just make out the "yes" coming from her friend's lips.
"Why? I don't mean to push or anything, or to imply that you shouldn't have been crying- I was just wondering cause you had said before that you couldn't cry, cause you couldn't feel anything. I mean, if you don't want to tell me that's okay. I understand." Buffy ended her ramble and looked into Willow's eyes. She wasn't sure what she saw in them, but she thought maybe she could make out distant hope, and that was all she needed to know that she could still save her best friend.
"I-I, uh… I k-knew that when y-you saw me you'd be h-hurt at w-what you saw." Willow had begun shaking so hard that she was stuttering, her teeth chattering. She paused, took a deep breath and began again, this time with a little less shaking. "I haven't been able to cry for what I've done to myself, but I've seen how it affects you and that is what has made me cry. Knowing that this hurts you, that you are worried about me, that is what, in the end, makes me cry, makes me upset. The last thing I want is to hurt you, but it does and I hate that. I don't want you to hurt- I love you too much." Willow sighed before going on. "I love you Buffy. I can't love myself right now, but I love you with all my heart, however much that is worth. I can't feel for myself, but I can feel emotion for you. Without that I have no hope. But sometimes not even that is enough…." Willow trailed off and leaned into Buffy again, as if the short speech had exhausted any reserves she had left. For her part Buffy just held on tighter than before, knowing that she never wanted to let the girl go again.
Buffy opened her mouth after a few minutes, ready to tell Willow what she had been thinking, but as she did she looked down at the redhead and saw that her eyes were closed and her breathing had slowed to a gentle rhythm. So instead Buffy carefully gathered her best friend up into her powerful arms, and mounted the stairs, headed for Willow's room. Gently laying the girl on the unmade bed, Buffy broke contact long enough to slip off her jacket and shoes before climbing into the small bed and pulling Willow into her arms. Not knowing if this was more of a comfort for Willow or herself, Buffy drifted off into sleep with Willow's head tucked under her chin, their bodies close and snug together. A thought far back in her mind of just how nice this felt was barely forming as the slayer fell into a deep and restful sleep.
###################
"Go it along and hold it along, haul it along and hold it."
-R.E.M.
Willow woke up the next morning, vaguely aware that there was someone else in her small bed with her. As the cobwebs left her head and she began to stir it became quite clear who that someone was; the strong arms of the slayer were wrapped around her middle, Buffy's face buried in her back, her whole body pressed closely to Willow's. Unable to really move, and not willing to wake her best friend just yet, Willow simply lay there, brought her arm up so she could look at her wrist, and just stared for awhile. The cuts hadn't bled for long, but they were raised and very red today- and they hurt. She knew if she touched them they would hurt even more, and that they would be a very physical reminder of what was inside her. These she could see- these cuts were something tangible, something she could feel, could look at and know how they got there, who had done it. They were pain, and they were hers.
The two friends did not move for another twenty minutes, one sleeping silently, one wide awake, lost in her own thoughts, in her own soul. As Buffy began to awaken, though, she pulled Willow closer, buried her face into the space where her shoulder and neck met, as if on instinct. Willow simply let her, not protesting, but knowing that it wasn't really her that Buffy was snuggling up with- she was probably dreaming of Angel. The redhead let herself enjoy her friend's embrace for a few more minutes before giving into the inevitable truth of Buffy waking up and realizing it was Willow in her arms, and not Angel. For those few minutes, though, Willow was able to shut out everything, all the numbness, all the pain, and just imagine that this was real, that Buffy was holding onto *her*. She only allowed herself a few minutes and then peeled back the arms of the slayer and sat up in the crowded bed.
Noticing instantly the sudden loss of Willow from her arms, Buffy woke up completely, opening her eyes to see her friend's back as she sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the window.
"Hey Will. Um, did you sleep okay?"
"Hmm?" Willow, slowly turned towards Buffy, looking at the Slayer for the first time since that morning. "Oh, yeah. Like a rock- out, I mean. I don't even remember coming up to bed." Her voice was flat, with little emotion in it- but there was still some emotion there; Buffy could just barely hear it.
"Well, that's cause you didn't walk up here. I carried you. You fell asleep in my arms last night in the hallway. You must've been pretty tired. I, uh, I thought it might be better if I spend the night." Buffy paused, looked down at her hands and then rushed on. "I hope you don't mind. I didn't want to leave you alone Will. I was scared." Buffy's voice got very quiet as she said those last words, but she looked directly into Willow's eyes, trying to see the redhead's soul.
Willow looked back for a minute and then down at her own hands, at her wrist. There were faint scares along with the new, ugly red lines. Reminders of what happens when she can't hold out any longer.
Without looking up, not able to look into her best friend's eyes, Willow began to talk, slowly at first. "I tried, Buffy, I really did. I tried to keep my promise, to not hurt myself. I tried so hard, but it wasn't good enough. I didn't try hard enough. I couldn't keep going. I wanted to do it, I still want to do it. The urge doesn't go away, you know. It's always here, always in the back of my mind. I-I can't make it go away." Willow looked up, then, meeting Buffy's eyes. "I'm so scared, Buffy. I'm so tired, and this all just keeps piling up. I don't think I can do this any more, this holding out."
"Will…" Buffy began, but trailed off as Willow started to talk again.
"I've looked up how to hurt myself, to kill myself, on the internet. There are a lot of different ways, you know. Sometimes, when I ride my bike to school, I think of how easy it would be, to just swerve into traffic- it would look like an accident and be over quickly."
Buffy didn't know what to say- she looked at her best friend, as if for the first time. It felt like there was a hand squeezing her heart while a fist punched her in the gut. She couldn't breathe- her chest hurt so much, each shallow breath was painful. "I…." She swallowed the lump in her throat, which felt like it was closing up. That pain that you feel in the back of your mouth, at the top of your throat, when you're about to cry, when you can barely hold it back, but still have to- it was there and Buffy tried to speak around it.
"I don't know what to say, Willow. I don't know what to do. I didn't know. I want to help you, more than anything. But, I just don't know what to do anymore." Buffy's composure was almost gone; her eyes were glistening, shining with unshed tears, the pain in the back of her mouth getting worse.
Willow stood up shakily, her legs feeling a lot like wet noodles, her knees ready to give out on her, and walked around the end of the bed towards to the side Buffy was sitting on. When the blonde looked up at her, Willow crumbled and began to sob uncontrollably. Buffy caught her as her knees finally gave out and pulled the redhead onto her lap, tucking her into strong slayer arms. Her own tears began to fall freely from her eyes, then, sliding silently down her cheeks as Willow shook uncontrollably in her arms.
It scared Buffy more than anything to see Willow like this- it scared her even more than the cutting had originally; her friend was losing her grip on things, her world was crumbling, and Buffy felt so helpless; she would trade all of her superpowers to help Willow if she could. What good were superpowers if the one person in the world you wanted to protect the most was in so much pain that she wanted to die and there was no way superpowers could stop it? Super strength was not going to make Willow's depression go away; Buffy's slayer healing wasn't going to make the scars on Willow's wrists fade into distant memories. Buffy didn't know what to do, and that scared her.
Willow's sobs began to slow, her shaking body slowing to small trembling, until she was quiet and still. She held onto Buffy with all her might, not wanting to let go, not wanting to face anything ever again. Why couldn't she just stay like this? It was so much easier when she didn't have to deal with it, when she could pretend that the only world was in Buffy's arms. But, Willow knew better than that. She carefully lifted her head to look into Buffy's face which was mere inches from her own. Willow saw the tears that were still slipping out of her friend's eyes and sliding silently down moist cheeks; she let go of Buffy and brought her hands up to the blonde's face, slowly wiping away the tears, gently with her thumbs.
"Don't cry, Buffy. I hate seeing you cry. It hurts me more than anything to see you cry because of me. Please, don't cry."
"I think I could say the same to you, Will."
"Yeah. I know." There was silence between the two friends then as they held onto each other, both scared and tired.
"Hey, why don't we go downstairs, have some coffee and talk, okay?" Buffy's voice was quiet and soothing in Willow's ear after a few more minutes of silence.
"Sure, okay."
With that, Willow stood up, only noticing then that she'd been on Buffy's lap. Hesitating for a brief moment, she took Buffy's hand and led her best friend down the stairs.
#######################
"This could be the saddest dusk I've ever seen."
-R.E.M.
Down in the kitchen Buffy made coffee while Willow sat at the table, hands folded, staring down at her wrists. When the coffee was done, a mug was set down in front of the redhead who made no move to pick it up. Buffy sat down to the right of Willow, her own mug held tightly in her hands. They sat there like that for awhile, Willow staring down, Buffy looking at the top of Willow's head, neither of them saying a word. The afternoon sunlight was streaming in through the kitchen windows, illuminating the dust particles that floated in the air, sparkling and drifting. They had slept longer than Buffy had originally thought; the clock above the sink read 1:38; she knew she should call her mom, let her know that she was still at Willows, but that could wait a little longer. It wasn't a school day, so Joyce wouldn't be too worried just yet.
When the clock read 1:53, Buffy finally broke the silence. She had finished her coffee, but Willow's still sat untouched, cold by now, in front of her, head still down, hands still clasped. The redhead hadn't moved in nearly twenty minutes.
"Will, I- uh." Buffy stopped, unsure that what she was going to say would be right. "I think maybe you need to talk to someone. Someone who isn't me, you know? Some who would know what to do to help you. I wish I knew what to do, knew the answers, but I don't."
The room got quiet again as Buffy waited for her friend to answer; after a few minutes she wasn't sure Willow would say anything, but then the redhead began to speak softly.
"Has this been too much for you? I mean, I understand if it is- I would be too much for me and wouldn't want to listen anymore, either. I'm sorry, Buffy."
"For, what? I don't mind, Will. I want you to tell me, to come to me- I will always be here for you; but I can't solve this. There are people who can help you, though. You can still talk to me, you can always talk to me. It just might be good for you to talk to someone else, too. I can't slay this for you."
"I know. I don't expect you to." Willow was quiet again, thinking about what Buffy had just said. She hated herself right now. Hated herself for doubting Buffy, for not trusting her to always be there, no matter how many times she says she will. Willow wanted to believe, but to her there was a flaw deep down in her soul that kept her from fully trusting anyone to love her, to really love her, to never go away and just leave her. People had said they'd be there in the past, her parents, Xander, and now Buffy. Her parents weren't here; their idea of dealing with their daughter's depression was to not deal; after the first noticeable major bout last year while Angel terrorized the Scooby Gang they had gotten frustrated with her, said she wasn't trying hard enough. So, now they were somewhere in Europe; they hadn't been around when she was in the coma, hadn't even come back. And Xander. He had Cordelia. When she found them kissing, she felt so betrayed, so hurt; Willow just couldn't bring herself to fully trust him anymore.
Now Buffy. Buffy had been so caught up with Angelus she barely noticed Willow falling apart; it was only after she'd come back from LA that they'd really talked about it. Willow knew Buffy'd had a lot to deal with last year, and didn't really blame her for not noticing; the Slayer hadn't exactly been the picture of perfect mental health herself. When she came back, though, when they finally talked about everything, about Angel, about the depression, Buffy had promised to always be there, had told Willow how much she loved her. And Willow believed her; but there was something inside her that just kept putting doubts in her head. And she hated that. She hated doubting Buffy's love, especially because she knew Buffy could see that doubt. Willow was sure that someday she would use her last Get Out of Jail Free card with Buffy, that one day Buffy would just say no, turn her back, walk away. She didn't want that to happen.
Willow thought all of this as she sat there in her kitchen, Buffy's worried gaze fixed on her down-turned head. She waited a couple more minutes, and then she began to speak. She told Buffy everything that had just run through her head, about the trust, about being scared of losing their friendship. It all came tumbling out in a babble of words that only a Scooby could truly appreciate, much less understand. When she was done she took a deep breath, let it out, and let her shoulders sag; her face looked worn and tired, much older than her 18 years, her eyes resigned and dull.
Now it was Buffy's turn to contemplate her hands. How do you respond to that? How do you tell the woman you love more than anything in the world that you really mean it, that you aren't going anywhere? How could Buffy make Willow understand just how much she loved her? Not wanting Willow to have to wait for too long for her response, worried her silence might be taken for anger or disappointment, Buffy reached out and took Willows right hand in both of hers. It was cold and clammy, her palm sweaty, and shaking almost imperceptively.
"I know that what I'm about to say isn't going to solve anything, Will. And I will say it as many times as I have to, I'll say it every day for the rest of my life if that's what you need. But, I love you. I always have, and I always will. I love you so much. You are the last thing I think about when I go to bed at night, and my first thought in the morning is you, too. I- I love you. I worry about you, and I'm scared. But, that doesn't mean I don't love you, Will. I could never not love you. You're why I came back from LA. You're why I go out every night and do my duty, because I know that I am keeping you safe." Buffy paused briefly, not sure if she should go on, but before she could lose her confidence, she began to speak again.
"I don't want to lose you, Will. I don't know what I would do without you. I thought losing Angel would be the worst feeling that I would ever have. But I don't' think it was. Cause when I think that I could lose you, that this could get the better of you, it scares me so much, and it hurts more than losing Angel ever did. You are more than my best friend, Will. You are so special, so wonderful, so beautiful, and I love you."
As Buffy said those last few words, she brought Willow's hand up to her lips and kissed it gently. She looked into her friend's eyes, unsure of what Willow was thinking, but seeing tears at the corners. Taking her left hand from Willow's, Buffy reached out and gently caressed the redhead's cheek, a tear running down and into her hand as she did so. Without letting go of Willow's hand, Buffy stood up, pulling Willow up with her. Instead of embracing her, wrapping her arms around her as she usually did, Buffy stepped in, raised her head a few inches, and gently kissed Willow on the forehead. It was a soft, warm kiss, meant to convey more than words could ever do. But, Buffy knew it wasn't enough. Without looking back, or allowing herself to think about what she could be doing to Willow's state of mind right now, Buffy lowered her head again and brought their lips together. The kiss was not a chaste kiss of a friend, nor the passionate kiss of a lover. It was not deep, but it wasn't a peck, either. It was simply a kiss that carried so much love, so much pain, and so much hope that Buffy thought her heart would explode. The kiss didn't last long and wasn't followed by more. Instead, the Slayer pulled Willow into her arms and held her with all of her might, gently rubbing her back, until she could feel Willow's muscles relax as she fell asleep again. Carefully picking up her best friend, Buffy made her way back up the stairs to the bedroom. After tucking Willow into her bed once more, Buffy sat at the neatly arranged desk, turning the chair around so that she could watch the sleeping girl.
The room was quiet as Buffy watched Willow and let her mind drift over what was going to happen now. She was unsure, really. The only thing she knew was that Willow was not going to pull out of this by herself, and that it would take a long time. But she would be there, in anyway that Willow wanted her. Buffy would wait, and she would help.
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"Turn to a miracle, high alive."
--R.E.M.
Buffy sat for most of the afternoon, watching Willow as she slept, trying to think of how to help her best friend, and trying to reconcile the feelings she was having towards the redhead. She had known for a little while now that Willow meant much more to her than just a friend, but she was scared of what such a revelation to could do to her already fragile mental state. The kiss was a start, but Buffy didn't know where to go from there.
Around 5pm, after calling her mom and letting her know she was going to spend the night at Willow's again, Buffy quietly climbed into the hacker's bed and pulled her close. The contact woke Willow who unconsciously snuggled further down into the arms that had enveloped her. It was a warm, safe place, and both friends felt calmed by the other's presence.
"Good evening, sleepyhead," Buffy said softly into the crook of Willow's neck where she had buried her face. "Feeling any better?"
"Mmmm. I feel warm and safe at the moment. But, I always feel warm and safe when I'm with you. Sometimes it's the only time I feel safe." Willow's tone was quiet and even, but Buffy could tell there was something else under it and began to worry. She wondered if she should be holding her like this, if she should have kissed her earlier. Doubt enveloped the slayer's mind like a cloud, but before she could feel too guilty, Buffy was drawn out of her thoughts by Willow shifting so the two friends were laying face to face.
"Buffy…?" the redhead started hesitantly.
"Yeah, Will?"
"Why can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Why did you kiss me before?"
Buffy was silent as she thought of how to answer her best friend's question. Why had she kissed Willow? She originally thought it was just to comfort her, but it occurred to the slayer afterwards that she had been wanting to kiss her for sometime now. Had even dreamed of it, among other racier things. But, was this the time to bring up those feelings? She was still worried that Willow couldn't handle a possible change in their relationship.
"Well… um… I…" The slayer didn't know where to start and could only get out a couple of incoherent sounds once she began speaking. Unfortunately Willow took this to mean that she had upset Buffy, jumping to the conclusion that the blonde woman had regretted the kiss and mentally kicked herself for bringing it up.
[Stupid Willow. Stupid. Way to go. As if your life didn't suck enough. Now you have to go and mention something that probably meant nothing and push away the one person you can count on, the one person who you feel safe with. Great.]
Buffy sensed an immediate change in Willow- the air around the hacker changed tangibly and she could tell that her friend was upset. Willow closed her eyes and tears began to slowly slide down her face, across her nose, and hitting the pillow below. Buffy reached up and gently caressed a tear-streaked cheek, unsure of where to begin, knowing she needed to say something.
"Will-no. Please don't get upset. I didn't mean to sound all- well, dumb, I guess. Please don't get upset. I just didn't know what to say it's complicated."
"What's complicated?" The questioning voice was so meek, so full of pain that it tore Buffy's heart out just hearing it. She knew then that no matter what she needed to tell Will how she felt. It would only make things worse to keep things hidden from her troubled friend.
"Why I kissed you. And how I feel about you. I told you earlier that you mean the world to me and that I love you, right?" Buffy paused before jumping in with both feet. It was now or never, their friendship and whatever else that was between them depended on what she said next. "What I didn't say, what I wanted to say but was too scared to, was that I don't just love you, Will. I'm IN love with you. I have been for awhile, I think. I'm not sure, really, when it happened, but that doesn't matter now. All that matters is that you're in pain, and that you're hurting yourself, and that I need you to know that no matter what happens, or what you do, I will always love you."
"D-did you say that you're in love with me?"
"Yeah, I did. And I understand if you don't want to deal with this right now, or ever. It might be more than you want to handle. But, I couldn't keep it from you- you would have known I was holding something back, and I didn't want you to think it was something bad and get upset. I guess that's why I kissed you. I wanted you to know that there is only love here."
Willow opened her eyes and looked into the face of her best friend. She could tell instantly that Buffy wasn't lying, wasn't saying this just to make her feel better. If there was one thing she was sure about in this world, it was that she could tell if Buffy was lying or telling the truth. And that instant Willow felt a small spark of hope for the first time in months.
A small smile appeared on the tired hacker's face, the first smile Buffy had witnessed in a very long time. It wasn't huge, but it reached her green eyes and made the slayer feel a tingle deep down inside. She realized then just how much she had missed her best friend's smile, and just how much she wanted to make her smile every day for the rest of her life.
Pulling Willow closer still, Buffy leaned in and captured the smiling lips for the second time that day. This time the kiss was something more than a comfort, it was a reassurance, and affirmation of everything Buffy had just said. It was calm at first, as Buffy was still unsure of how Willow would react, but as soon as the redhead deepened the kiss she had her answer. Willow's mouth parted slightly, inviting the slayer in and Buffy gladly accepted the invitation. The kiss grew more passionate as the minutes passed, both girls becoming more and more breathless and aroused as they explored the other's mouth. Buffy pulled back briefly to catch her breath, but didn't let the redhead have time to miss the connection as she began to kiss and nibble down Willow's neck, finding her pulse point which indicated a rapidly beating heart. Willow for her part, began to run her left hand through the slayer's blonde hair, unable to do much more as her mind began to hum in a pleasure she had never before felt.
After a few more minutes of attention paid to Willow's neck, Buffy pulled back, breathing heavily, and simply looked at the beautiful woman laying in front of her. A warmth seemed to be radiating off of the redhead that Buffy had never felt before and realized that she had caused it. She wanted nothing more than to continue to make Willow feel that way, but knew that the two friends needed to talk before things went farther. There was still the matter of Willow's depression, and the possibility of what could happen between them could make things more complicated.
"Will? How about we go downstairs and have some dinner? Then I think we should talk."
Feeling a little more sure of herself, and much safer for the time being, Willow simply nodded her head and pulled the slayer in for a warm embrace before they got up. She knew that there was a lot to be talked about, and that there were going to be very hard times in the future, but for the first time she was sure that she wouldn't have to go through it alone. And while this didn't solve things, and couldn't really, it gave Willow a sense of hope that hadn't been there the night before.
To Be Continued in "Fascinating New Thing."