Disclaimer: Yay, my second Buffy the Vampire Slayer fanfic! This one is a chapter fic, and it's sort of a cross-over with FullMetal Alchemist, but not really. I've just used some of the principles behind the idea of Alchemy in that universe. There's no characters, story, or plot involved with FMA, just Buffy. This is based off the end of Season seven, and is kind of an alternate to the comics, I guess. This was just a thought I had, I know it doesn't really fit the canon but I thought it seemed like a legit idea. SO, thanks for reading!
I do not own Buffy or FMA, or any characters related to them.
Two years, Willow thought. Tomorrow, it'll have been two years since Tara died.
She sighed and sat back, folding her arms over her chest and staring out the window into the dark city. After Sunnydale has collapsed into the Hellmouth, closing it forever, Buffy and company had driven to the only place they knew someone would take them in: L.A. and Angel. But Angel had been busy, and Buffy had wanted to put as much distance between her and Angel as possible. So once everyone had recuperated (after about a week or so) everyone had piled onto a plane and headed off to Englang, with Giles; once there, Giles had decided to start rebuilding a new Watchers Council, with the help of Xander and Andrew, while Willow, Buffy, and Dawn tried to locate all the new Slayers that were popping up, in order to give them guidance, and build a league to fight the evils in the world. They had started out by renting a large operations base in the outskirts of Sussex, where everyone lived as well.
After enough time had passed, and no one seemed to want to go anywhere, they decided to get actual housing. Giles moved back to his ranch in the country side, and Willow, Buffy, and Dawn bought a nice town home not far away. Xander bought a small apartment a few blocks down from their place, and sometimes Willow wondered if he was lonely. Before they had bought their cozy town home, Kennedy had wanted her and Willow to get their own place; but Willow hadn't wanted to, and in turn, pushed the new Slayer away. Kennedy ended up leaving England and going back to America, and Willow hadn't heard from her in over 6 months.
In those six months, Willow had finished up University on a scholarship to Cambridge, gotten a job at a local Ancient History Museum and Library, and was on her way to becoming a Magick Artifacts Archeologist. Things seemed to be looking up.
Willow sighed again and leaned forward, putting her forehead in her hands. Her hair dangled around her face, and after sitting there for a few moments, she glanced sideways. On her desk lay the rectangular piece of paper; her plane ticket back to America.
It was early in the morning, the sky still grey with pre-day sunlight. Willow crept quietly down the hall way, a small bag on her back, the ticket clutched softly in her hand. She made it out of the house and into the small taxi without waking anyone, and as the car pulled away, all Willow could do was stare back at the house.
When she arrived at the airport, she tipped the driver and then waved him off, checking her watch as she turned around. Almost time, she thought, as her watch read 6:32 am.
She rustled through the airport quickly, having memorized it from the last time she was there, and stopped momentarily to get some coffee. She easily made it to her gate on time and boarded quickly, settling into her seat, which was a window seat. She yawned, and leaned back, closing her eyes. This was going to be a long flight.
The light that trickled into the room danced across Dawn's face, waking her from her warm slumber. She yawned, stretching, and shoved the sheets off of herself. She took in a big breath, and with it, smelt the warm cooking of pancakes. An excited smile spread across her face and she tugged on some pants, hurrying downstairs.
"Morning!" she chirped as she slid into the kitchen. Buffy was at the stove, cooking said pancakes, still in her pajamas and robe.
"Morning," she said back to Dawn, turning around and sliding some more pancakes onto the plate of cooked and ready to eat ones. "Where's Willow?" she asked, looking around. "She never sleeps in later than nine."
Dawn shrugged, grabbing a fresh pancake and taking a bite. "Dunno," she said, mouth full. Buffy frowned at her and Dawn swallowed, giving her an innocent grin. "Fine, I'll go check," she said and scampered off, heading back up the stairs, taking them in two.
When she reached Willow's room, she knocked on the door. "Hey, Willow! Buffy made pancakes!" she said, waving the pancake in front of her door. When there was no answer, she knocked again. "Willow?"
Immediate suspicion came to Dawn, even though there hadn't been any major battles in the past few years, since the Hellmouth in Sunnydale incident. But she couldn't help the odd feeling churning in her stomach.
"Hey, Willow, you in there?" Without waiting for an answer, she turned the knob and opened the door; but all the greeted her was an empty room. She poked her head in, gazing around. "Willow?"
Buffy had just finished making all the pancakes when Dawn came back into the kitchen. "She's not in her room," Dawn said.
Buffy shrugged again. "Probably went out, let's not worry about it," she said, and held up the plate. "Eat up, there's plenty!" But inside, Buffy had a sinking feeling that Willow wasn't 'just out'.
It was an 8 hour plane ride, and Willow had cast a small spell on herself in order to sleep through it all and not feel jet lagged when she woke up. As she exited the plane, clutching the handles of her backpack tightly, she gazed around conspicuously. She wasn't in California, but she didn't need to be; Pennsylvania was close enough.
She headed towards the nearest exit and found an empty alley, where she pulled her backpack off, and pulled out a small book. She opened it to a page that had scribbles of words on it, and then glanced around, checking to make sure the area was clear. When she was sure it was she chanted the words she had written down, closing her eyes.
And when she opened them again, she was standing in front of the giant chasm that used to be Sunnydale.
Cautiously, Willow took a step forward; then another, and another, until she was almost at the edge. There, she sat down, pulled her pack off, and set it beside her. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, trying not to think about the fact that the hole in front of her used to be the town she grew up in. "Tara…" she muttered, her voice wavering as she tried to hold back tears. "I'm here."
Willow reached down and pulled a few things from her bag: a small vase, a pack of red sand, and a small vile of purple liquid. She set the vase down in front of her, then opened the bag of sand. As she slowly sifted it into the jar, she began to chant in a low voice, under her breath.
"Earth, fallen, hiding treasures of past lost, reverse the flow of time, give back what was once mine," she muttered, and poured the last bit of sand in. She then picked up the vile and opened it, slowly pouring the contents into the vase as she continued her chant. "Restore the body's earthen glow; retrieve it from heaven's flow, placed upon my hands up palm, the box that holds the body calm."
As she finished off the chant, she finished pouring the liquid in and red smoke began billowing from the vase. It rose up in to the sky, then spiraled back towards the earth, searching for the object it was commanded to find. It burrowed down in a spot, far off in the distance from Willow, and for a moment nothing happened. Then the smoke began to recede, pulling up with it, a large, rectangular box, covered in soot and dirt. The smoke wrapped around it and began to travel back towards the vase, and Willow. Willow stood up shakily and held out her hand, palm facing up; she blinked, waiting for the object to come to her.
When it did, it hovered in front of her; it was a casket, scratched, dented, and damaged from the collapsing of the town. The smoke billowed up slowly and enshrouded the casket, wrapping around it like a blanket, encasing it softly in a warm glow. As it did, the casket began to shrink until it was the perfect size to fit in Willow's palm, who slowly, carefully, reached out, her whole body shaking; she wrapped her fingers around it and closed her hand, pulling her arm in close to her body, cradling the shrunken casket to her chest.
A single tear slid down Willow's cheek.
It was late, really late, when Willow finally made it back to her small town home in England that she shared with Buffy and Dawn. She opened the door and slipped in quietly, closing the door as softly as she could, so as not to wake anyone up. When she was sure the door was shut all the way she turned around to head upstairs-
-and nearly ran straight into Buffy.
"B-buffy!" she exclaimed, trying to keep her voice stable. "Wh-what're you doing up?" she asked.
Buffy arched an eye brow at her, her blue eyes staring straight into Willow. "Wasn't tired," she said plainly. "So, where've you been all day?" she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.
Willow shrugged and tried to fake a smile. "Oh, you know, around. Running errands, doing England-y stuff…" she said, wringing her hands together. Buffy cocked her head and arched her eyebrow at Willow again, this time glancing at the pack Willow was carrying.
"Really…well, welcome back," Buffy said, dropping her arms and backing away. "I'm gonna head to bed now. You should get some sleep, too," she said, examining Willow, "you look tired."
Willow nodded quickly. "Y-yeah, I am. Tired! That is…." she stammered, and followed Buffy up the stairs, stopping off at the first floor, where her room was.
"Night, Will," Buffy said, passing by her. Willow jumped a little, having gotten caught up in her thoughts on the way up the stairs.
"N-night," she said back, then slipped into her room and closed the door- and locked it.
Willow turned around and put her back against the door, leaning her head back, breathing heavily. She pulled her hand out of her pocket and uncurled her fingers, revealing the small casket. "Tara…" she whispered, her voice ghostly. "We're home…"
"By Willow, we'll be back later!" Buffy shouted up the stairs. Dawn was behind her, pulling on her shoes. Buffy tilted her head when there was no answer. "Will!" she called again.
Willow's door swung open and her head popped out. "Going to Xander's?" she called down. Buffy nodded at her.
"Yeah, we're all gonna go downtown and do some shopping before patrol tonight," she said up the stairs. "You sure you don't wanna come with?" she asked.
Willow shook her head, giving a crooked half-frown. "N-no, that's alright. I, uh, I'm just not feeling too well," she called back.
Buffy frowned slightly. "Well, alright then. Feel better," she said, turning to open the door. She stopped and looked back up at Willow. "And don't stay out late again! You need rest to feel better."
Willow nodded, a soft smile spreading on her face; there were bags under her eyes, and it made Buffy wonder if she had even slept last night. "Yeah, alright," Willow answered.
"Ready?" Dawn asked, popping up behind Buffy. Buffy turned to her.
"Yeah," she said and followed Dawn out the front door. She stopped momentarily in the doorway and glanced quickly back into the house, up towards Willow's room. Her brow furrowed, as an odd churning feeling filled her stomach. Something was up with Willow.
When Dawn called out to her, she snapped back to herself and closed the door, hurrying down the stairs and towards her anxious sister.
Once Willow was sure Buffy and Dawn were out of the house and a good distance down the street, Willow sank slowly onto the floor of her room; the curtains were drawn, darkening the small room, which was lit by various candles, placed vicariously about. All the furniture had been pushed up against the walls, and in the middle of the floor, there was a large pentacle looking circle, but instead of satanic symbols, there were scientific symbols, and scribbled Arabic and Latin words. Beside Willow, there was a pile of books, and one of them was open; the title on the page left open was labeled "Human Transmutation". The piles of books below it were labeled similarly with the word "Alchemy" at some point in the title.
Willow leaned over and read another passage from the book, then drew some more symbols on the floor, making sure they matched exactly to the diagram in her book. After a long hour of checking and rechecking her circle and the one in the book, Willow sat back and wiped the sweat from her forehead.
She pushed the Alchemy book aside and picked up another, this one labeled "Ancient Magicks" and flipped to a page that she had marked with a feather bookmark. The chapter was titled "Ressurection".
"Here we go," she breathed, and began reading.
"So, why didn't Willow want to come?" Xander asked as he snacked on a scone. Dawn and Buffy each had matching scones as well, which they had gotten after the many hours of shopping, and lunch.
Buffy shrugged and took another bite of her raspberry cream-cheese scone. "She said she didn't feel well," she replied. Dawn stepped between Buffy and Xander.
"Yeah, she came home uber late last night. Wonder if she was out with someone," she said and finished off her own scone.
"Willow, out with someone?" Xander said, making small hand gestures. "More like, 'Willow, out with her books'. She probably got swamped down at the museum or something."
"Yesterday was her day off," Buffy said flatly, kicking her feet lightly against the wet ground as they walked; it had rained all morning and now a thick humidity hung in the air, making everything outside wet and damp.
Xander stopped walking, and gave a dumb-founded stare. "Oh." Then he started walking again, staggered a bit behind the two Summers girls.
"Maybe we should go check on her?" Buffy asked. "I feel like something's weird. I mean, I feel Slayer tingly, ya know?" she said, scrunching up her nose and shaking her hands.
"Like your Spidy-sense?" Dawn asked, tilting her head. She shuffled the several bags in her hands to shift the weight.
"Yeah, sorta," Buffy said, shrugging.
"Well, if Buffy's Spidy-sense is tingling, we should follow it," Xander said, eating the last bite of his scone. "It's never been wrong before. And besides, we've got some time to kill before the movie."
Everything was ready. Willow had rechecked it as much as she could possibly stand, and then rechecked it once more. She glanced nervously around the room: everything was in place. The circle was completed and drawn, and the magick pots were placed intermediately around the casket. The doors were propped open, but Willow hadn't had the heart to look inside.
She breathed in heavily and felt her chest getting heavy as she settled into the middle of the circle, crossing her legs and putting her hands on her knees. She could feel herself shaking, and had to take a moment to catch her breath. "This will work," she said to herself, and slowly felt her body relax. "It will work." She repeated the words a few more times, allowing her body to completely relax.
When she felt she was ready, Willow lifted her hands tenderly, holding them out over the circle. She opened her mouth and exhaled softly, feeling her breath leave her body; then she leaned forward, and pressed her hands onto the floor.
Almost instantaneously, the lines Willow had drawn began to glow. The pots began to shake, and their contents flowed up and out of them, swirling in the air with a glowing, white light that was radiating from the circle. The light grew brighter, eventually flowing from the circle as if it were water falling down a cliff side. Then the contents poured into the casket, which exploded with green light.
Willow opened her eyes, and a sense of elation began to fill her stomach- it was working!
But then the light expanded and enveloped the whole room, and Willow felt something tearing at her arms. She looked down, and found that her skin seemed to be flaking off her arms. She tried to move but found herself stuck, only able to watch as her skin seemed to disintegrate in front of her- first one layer, then the next, and the next, ripping off until muscle was exposed. And even though she couldn't see it, she could feel the same thing happening to her face, neck, shoulders, and back.
Terror filled her veins, and she struggled and wrenched at her arms, trying to pull free, but they seemed to be sinking into the circle of light. Then, suddenly, she froze, threw her head back in a jerking motion, and screamed.
And as she screamed, the same white light poured from her mouth and eyes; a loud, whooshing noise, like wind in a tunnel, filled the room and all the windows were blasted out, as well as everything in the room upturned and smashed against the walls.
Then the light, which had enveloped Willow, flickered, and faded, so suddenly and starkly, it was as if it had never existed.
Willow was thrown backward from the force of her desperate pulling, and dropped to the floor, lifeless and bleeding.
Xander, Dawn, and Buffy were just a few houses down when the windows on their town home exploded outward from the first floor bedroom, followed by a horrid, blood curdling scream. Without waiting for anyone else's reaction, Xander shouted, "Willow!" and bolted for the house, shoving Buffy out of the way as he did.
He burst through the front door, and leapt up the stairs, three at a time. Thoughts raced through his mind like speeding bullets, and he wasn't even aware of Buffy and Dawn scrambling through the front doors as he began pounding on Willow's bedroom door. When he found it locked and no one answering, he began throwing his shoulder into the door, to no avail. Buffy grabbed him by the shoulder and wrenched him out of the way, almost throwing him down the stairs. He caught himself on the railing and watched as she smashed her foot into the door with all her Slayer strength.
Still nothing.
"Th-there must be some kind of spell on it!" Dawn shouted over all the ruckus. Everything seemed so loud to Xander, and he realized it was the blood rushing in his ears.
"Then what do we do! Buffy, what do we do!" he shouted frantically, then whirled back to face the door. "Willow, open the door!" he shouted. "Willow! Willow!" He tried to ram into the door again, but Buffy held him back.
"I'm going in through the window! Wait here!" she shouted and leapt down the stairs, disappearing out the front door.
Xander looked at Dawn pathetically, then returned to pounding on the door. "Willow, please open the door! Willow!"
There was crashing outside, then Buffy came around the corner, hunched over at the bottom of the stairs, bloody and bruised. "There's a spell…on the windows…too…" she said between gritted teeth. Dawn ran down the stairs to catch her before she fell; she looked back up to Xander with horror in her eyes.
"Wh-what do we do?" Xander stuttered, dread wrenching at his insides. "What do we do! Buffy, Willow could be dying in there!"
"Call…Giles…" Buffy huffed, not looking up at Xander. Xander stumbled for a second, then nodded quickly.
"R-right, Giles. Giles would know what to d-" he started, but was cut off by a click from the door. His hand shot out and he turned the knob without thinking, thrusting the door open. It rammed into someone and Xander stepped forward, then froze.
"Oh my god," he breathed.
In the next moment, Willow found herself standing in front of two large doors, encased by a wooden threshold; carved into it were demons, monsters, cherubs, sprites, and any other sort of mythical creature. Beyond it, nothingness; a bleak white landscape that stretched on forever, or for naught. All Willow could do was stare at it, mouth slightly agape, hands hanging limply at her sides. A sudden voice broke the wavering silence.
"Thou who has come before the Gates of Truth, offering sacrifice and exchange," it boomed, so loudly Willow had to stagger back and clasp her hands over her ears. The entire world seemed to shake. "Do you agree to the terms, to give your soul and magicks, for that of the life of Tara Maclay?" it asked, its voice never changing pitch, never giving inflection; it was straight, monotone, and all knowing.
Willow felt a shiver go up her back as she straightened up, trying to look presentable to…whatever was booming at her. She locked her jaw and straightened her neck, looking up, waiting to see if it would speak again. When it didn't, she cleared her throat and tried to speak.
"I-I do…" she stuttered. Her voice seemed small and shrill compared to the large booming voice, and when it didn't answer, she cleared her throat again. "I do!" she said more confidently, throwing her shoulders forward, and clenching her fists, pacing slightly in place. "I give my soul and magicks for Tara's life! Please, just give her back! Please!" she found herself pleading, tears coming to her eyes. There was a loud cracking noise and Willow snapped her jaw shut.
"As you wish," the booming voice said, and there was suddenly a horrid creaking noise that made Willow's bones shudder.
She stepped back a bit as the creaking began to make her head hurt and she clutched it tightly. When the creaking stopped, Willow looked up and found a sliver in the doors, just big enough for someone to squeeze through. There was a shadow in the sliver, more or less helping to grandiose the doors, and Willow squinted, trying to see what, or who, it was; a sudden wind blasted through the doors, nearly knocking Willow over, who had to stumble back a few steps in order to stay standing. She threw her hands up in front of her face and squinted into the blaring wind.
Then she realized it, who it was, and a small whisper escaped her mouth. "…Tara?" At that moment, everything around Willow silenced; the wind howling in her ears stopped, the beating of her heart, heaving in her chest, ceased, and the racing thoughts in her head dissipated.
Before Willow could say anything else, Tara took a step forward, and then her back arched and she came flying at Willow, as if someone had tied a rope around her waist and was pulling her forward. Willow had no idea what to do, so she spread her arms, as if to catch Tara, and braced herself for the thud of Tara's body against her own. But there was none, and Willow opened her eyes just in time to see Tara phase right through her, passing her like a cold wind when a storm is blowing in.
But the moment, the single moment that Tara's soul connected with Willow's, everything stopped. Willow could feel the warmth radiating from Tara's soul and wished nothing more than to never let her go; but then everything fast forwarded and Willow was left bent over, her arms hugging herself. She whirled quickly, looking wildly for Tara, but when she spotted her, she was so far off in the distance, Willow had a mind to believe that she had always been over there, and what she'd seen before had simply been her mind playing tricks. But she still turned and started towards the spirit, reaching out with her hand, calling to her.
"Tara!" she cried, not really sure if she could even hear her at all. "Tara! Tara, it's me! Tara!" But the spirit was fading, and Willow could feel tears in her eyes.
There was a sudden force pulling at her now, as well. It started with her leg, then her back, her shoulders, her arm, and finally her outstretched hand. She craned her neck around to see what it was, only to find thin strands of black grabbing at her, pulling her back. She fought and strained as hard as she could, but it was all for nothing; the strands pulled her back like she was made of paper.
They wrapped around her entire body now like stretchy, black rope, encasing her; and as she was pulled through the doors, arm still outstretched, she called out her last words to Tara.
"Tara, I love you!" she cried desperately. "Remember, I love you! And I'll always find you!"
Then the doors swung shut and Willow was left in a blinding darkness.
Breathing again after not having breathed for two years was a more painful experience than one thought it would be.
Breath hit Tara like a massive wave, flooding into her lungs and body and making her muscles ache and cramp. Each intake was like needles were being jabbed into her and Tara clawed at her chest, trying to make the pain go away. She racked her brain, trying to remember what happened last, why everything was blurry and painful and blood was rushing through her ears. All she could remember was being in the Summer's house, in Willow's room. Then there was pain and she was on the floor.
She threw her hands out to try and sit up, but found herself encased in something. She raked her hand across something wooden, jamming splinters into it, but paid no attention and curled her fingers around it, pulling herself up and gasping for air. After a few long moments, breath came easier to her and she found herself coated in sweat and panting.
That must be it, Tara thought, breathing must hurt because of what happened. Then something clicked in her mind. "Willow…" she breathed, her voice cracked and broken, her mouth dry and sandy. She coughed. "W-willow?" she croaked again.
Tara had the sudden awareness of voices at the door, as well as a rapturous knocking. She forced herself to stand, her legs weak and shaking from what must have been lack of use. She stumbled over whatever she had been encased in, her vision still blurry, blotches eating at her vision. Even though she couldn't see much, as she tried to find the door, Tara knew this wasn't Willow's room, nor the Summers' home. When she reached the door, she struggled with the knob for a bit before realizing the door was locked, and with some sort of spell. The pounding continued and without really thinking about it, she uttered a few Latin words about locking and unlocking. And before she could even grab the door knob or back out of the way, someone turned the knob and the door swung open, slamming into her shoulder. She stumbled back a few steps, clutching her shoulder, and when she recuperated, she found herself face to face with Xander.
"Oh my god," Xander said after a few long moments of silence. "Tara?"
Autho's Note: So what're your thoughts? Critiques? Criticisms? Compliments? Thanks so much for reading! I have a few more chapters written but I'd like to know what people think before I start investing fully into this fic.