Title: Deep Dark: Though Separate Paths... (2/?)
Author: melanacious
Disclaimer: All characters owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I own nothing.
Summary: After Willow's Slayer Activation spell, an adversary's successful bid for vengeance has devastating and far reaching consequences for Willow, the Scoobies and for the world.
Pairings: Willow/OC/Tara? eventually Buffy/Faith-(Spike and I are in ongoing discussion about the possibility of him joining the cast) Xander/Dawn-(obviously with age manipulation involved)
Spoilers: Everything is fair game.
Distribution: E-mail me please.
Author's Notes: Angst. Hurt/Comfort/Horror
Warning: Dark fiction-- Violence.
Thank You: To my wonderful and patient Beta Readers. lilyrose21 and antianira22
Rating: NC 17 for violence and sexual content. Not suitable for readers under 18. You have been warned.
Feed Back: Would be nice.

WARNING NOTE: Major Character deaths but bear with me...

Though Separate Paths... (2/?)

EARLY DECEMBER 2003

Buffy swung the scythe at the creature's throat.

The demon ducked, whipping its axe around in a flawless, powerful arc.

There was no sound, no scream, no dazed look of surprise as the Slayer collapsed onto the ground in halves, the mighty scythe still in her grip. Her eyes wide open, sightless.

"Noooho!"

The wail came from Faith.

"B!" The dark Slayer tackled demons out of her way. Hacking like a Berserker and wailing until the red blade of her sword, skewered the demon who'd felled her counterpart. Faith shoved the dead creature aside, sword still imbedded into its heart from behind.

"Buffy!" Shaking her head furiously in denial, "Buffy!" she dropped to her knees, screaming.

Face frozen in a rictus grin of horror and disbelief, grief pulled a dark shade of insanity over her glazed eyes.

"Buffy!"

Clutching her counterpart's upper half, Faith grabbed frenziedly at the severed lower torso, pressing it to Buffy's waist as though attempting to fuse the halves together by sheer will alone.

Every demon stood frozen, so shocked by this success.

The stabbing pain in her chest, the agonizing wrenching of her soul and the sounds of Faith's screams stopped Willow cold. She whipped her head around. Time trickled by like a slow leak, until her eyes fell upon the ghastly sight, and when she saw...

... she could utter no sound.

Anguish crawled through her soul, and clawed at her skin from beneath. Trapped ...

Willow's right hand had been severed. Buffy had fallen.

She could not move.

Rage burned like fire and lava poured into her, overflowing seeping through pores...

Willow's pillar of strength had been toppled. Buffy had fallen.

She could not look away.

Grief threatened to suck her into the ground, clutched at her legs until they all but buckled.

Willows heart had been rent apart, shattered. Buffy was dead.

The blonde Slayer's blood fed the ground and it drank greedily until it erupted around them.

Hordes poured from the gaping openings by the hundreds, drunk with freedom and blood lust ... shouting as they rushed toward the screaming, dark haired Slayer, lost to madness and to her futile attempt to mend a corpse.

Willow's shout was cut off by the first bludgeoning swing of a club so powerful, the dark Slayers head, was separated from neck and shoulders. Blood spewed from the obscene gap left at the torn neck, and the hungry earth drank its fill.

And so fell the Sorceress' left hand, cut off. Willow bled with them, from a soul left with mortal wounds ...

Is this the good fight ... how it ends?

She paid no heed to the demons slowly advancing towards her, as though to taunt.

And we played by the rules ...

It was an obscenity that the warmth from the afternoon still touched her, mocked her as though the world did not care that upon this filthy soil, lay the corpses of its champions, young girls and women. The bodies of Willow's only family.

And we stood alone...

Dawn, the young woman she'd helped raised. Xander who'd been like a brother. Giles the man who'd been as a father. Buffy. Faith ... who'd been the bond that trapped her soul within the flesh.

And the world. Owes. Us nothing!

The sun dared to continue shining. The sky had not gone black with remorse. The trees had not bowed to respect the slain warriors, and clouds had not grayed to weep.

The world did not stop. And this. Simply. Could not be tolerated.

I held back to protect the world...

The demons drew closer, near enough to strike her down. She halted them with a smile. And then she laughed madly, insanely bellowed with gut rumbling laughter.

...But now I won't. Her world was gone.

Willow broke open.

It could no longer be contained.

It would not be held back.

It burst free like the phoenix rising from the flames.

And what little remained of Willow Rosenberg, perished with a primal scream that shook the earth. Darkness flooded Willow inside and out, blackness bleeding through veins, hair, eyes and flesh until she was an obsidian goddess.

Every demon sank to its knees and bowed its head at her glory.

And I shall live life as life has lived me. This world will bleed, desolate, forsaken and hollowed out.

Jolted from the dream, Willow rolled to the floor, practically tripping over the black silk sheets she dragged off the bed with her. She dashed like a drunkard to the bathroom.

She nearly ripped the porcelain four prong knob from the wall of the the tub in her haste, before she thrust her fevered body under the unforgiving spray of cold water.

Buffy. Oh god. Buffy.

Every image replayed itself like a vivid memory rather than a dream. And grief bore down upon her like great boulders, threatening to crush her. Young women, dead slayers ripped, and torn asunder, their limbs scattered upon the ground of a bleeding battle field.

No.

It was just a dream. Faith's head flying through the air like a soccer ball.

No.

A dream. just a dream.

Dawn. Xander. Giles.

Her breath hitched on a sob.

Please, don't take them away from me. Please.

She collapsed to her knees, hugging her arms tight around her body as though this could lock in that raging darkness. She rocked, letting cold water punish her skin.

"Be what you were meant to be, my darlin'." Gentle fingers combed through her hair, massaged the tension knots at the back of her neck.

"I don't know what that is, Baby," Willow choked out.

"Strong. Strong like an Amazon. And so much more, Will."

"How am I supposed to save them?" Willow released a hopeless whimper. "That monster is still inside me.

Warm hands caressed her back, combating the harshness of cold water. That warmth seeped into her.

"Oh love, there's so much more to come." The voice was stilted with sorrow.

Willow sighed hanging her head as the touch disappeared.

"I miss you, Tara."

She shivered from the cold and turned off the water. Climbing from the tub, she grabbed a fluffy robe from the towel rack and slipped into it.

Willow padded across the carpet of her bedroom on bare feet, grateful for once, as she stared at the mussed bedding, that Kennedy was away.

Maybe I'm going insane.

Willow preferred that to the alternative.

The constant nightmares. The conversations with her dead lover.

I 'am' going insane. And that was just a dream. It didn't mean anything. It...

And there was the image of Xander, a tree limb sticking from his chest where it had skewered him through the back. He'd been reaching for Dawn who'd lay lifeless on the ground.

"It's not supposed to be end this way," had been his last strangled words. "Not again."

Willow reached for the phone—could she risk it?—stopped short.

A gentle breeze swept through the room, caressed her cheek.

"You're going to need them."

"I need you," Willow whispered. She grabbed the handset of the cordless phone and dialed.

"I am always with you, Willow."


2003 DECEMBER 22--BRAZIL

"Buffy Summers."

She liked the sound of that so she said it again and louder.

"Buffy Summers." No 'Slayer. Comma. The' at the end.

Just me Buffy.

And she liked it that way. She reached over and found her sun hat resting nearby on her towel and plunked it down on her head and giggled at the ludicrousness of wearing a hat.

The breeze was gentle, the sun was scorching and the roar of the ocean muffled voices of laughter and chatter. She wanted to pinch herself to check for the hundredth time if she were dreaming. But she was afraid she'd start to bruise if she kept that up.

And bruising would clash with the sexy sun-bronzed Brazilian goddess look she was working on.

This is what it's like to not walk in shadows.

It hadn't been hard to walk away. What had been hard was leaving the people she loved behind. But walking away from a calling that was no longer a calling but a choice now, well ...it hadn't been difficult or angst ridden.

She kicked her feet out playfully, thought about going in for a swim. But she felt too lazy. Partying half the night with citizens that never seemed to need sleep, she wasn't exhausted but happily lethargic.

It was wonderfully freeing laying about au natural in the sun. Buffy had never in million years thought she'd have the balls to even consider visiting a nudist beach let alone take a villa on one.

She'd let go of old inhibitions when she'd left her old life behind.

Buffy chuckled, stretched and then arched her body towards the kiss of the sun before relaxing back into her towel. She still slayed, but it was no longer the joyless act driven by the weight of obligation. She did so because she had the power to and because the hunt felt good and still beckoned to her strongly, to her nature--not because a bunch of stuffy Brits in tweed told her it was her job.

Now there were hundreds, maybe thousands of girls out there each carrying the mantle, of 'Slayer. Comma. The.' Each being given the choice ...

The right to choose.

...That thing Buffy, Faith and god only knew how many girls who'd died before them, had been denied.

The right to choose.

Buffy rolled over onto her side, grabbed her sweaty glass, and tipped the straw to her lips to sip on her banana daiquiri, her lips pursing with amusement at having left Giles flustered at her blowing off his proposal.

She had no desire to lead another army of young women into battle. Possibly to their deaths. Uhn-uh. Been there. Done that. It sucked.

And besides...

Giles may have conveniently forgotten how he'd deliberately mislead her while he'd set Spike up for a staking by Principal Wood but Buffy hadn't.

And a good a thing, for the world that little plan had gone awry, eh Giles?

Her former Watcher, staid dependable Giles had shown a side of himself that had left her wary and mistrustful ... and it left all kinds of oogy feelings inside.

Feeling even the slightest mistrust for Giles seemed unnatural.

She couldn't seem to get past it. Couldn't bury it. Couldn't shake it off.

Eh, that's enough brooding about tweedy old Englishmen, time to party.

She polished off her drink and then sat up, feeling a zing of energy on the air. She'd know that feeling anywhere along with the familiar presence to whom it belonged.

She's here. I can't believe it.

Grinning, Buffy stood. Removed her sun hat, her only adornment with a thought,she's gonna freak, and then raced down the beach as the small speck grew closer and more distinct.

"Willow!"

Wide hazel eyes stared in appreciation and shock at the very immodestly undressed former slayer. Buffy laughed and admitted to herself, that she felt much complimented at the sight of Willow's unhinged chin.

Never got that reaction before.

She threw herself into the redhead's arms.

"Buffy!"

Willow caught the blonde canon ball with a slight 'oomph.' She thanked the goddess for magic or she'd have been a flattened indentation in the sand.

And oh my ... skin. Naked. Buffy skin.

She shivered at the soft kiss, Buffy pressed against her neck. And the teasing, "Missed you, Will," whispered in her ear.

If Buffy was going for reaction, she'd gotten it. Willow's blood raced and her breath quickened. A quick flash of things one could do to a naked Buffy teased her imagination.

Down girl. Willow reminded herself. Jealous girlfriend back home.

She made a note not to mention to Kennedy about the enthusiastic naked welcoming. Nor about the fact that she was letting the hug go on way longer than it should. Her arms tightened around her friend and her hands rubbed across the expanse of smooth back.

"Goddess, I've missed you." Willow squeezed her best friend a last time and then reluctantly loosened her grip.

Almost seven months, since they'd last seen each other had gone by. They'd written and spoke on the phone but Willow was hungry for a true reconnection.

"So what about me, B?" asked a familiar voice. "Where's my hug?"

Buffy pulled out of the embrace and swung around, eyes narrowed at the brunette who grinned rather sheepishly and who was beginning to think that maybe Willow's bright idea for a Christmas vacation/surprise may have been a bad idea.

Faith had opted for Disneyland ... but nooo, had to go and listen to...

"Get over here!" Buffy's eyes were warm.

Her smiled was wide and Faith suddenly felt as if maybe the glass was starting to look half full, rather than half empty. The hug was awkward and tentative but both women began to warm up to it. Arms gripped tighter and Buffy's sigh was mirrored by Faith's.

Faith caught the redhead's smug grin over Buffy's shoulder and the childishly mouthed...

"Told ya so."

And for once she didn't mind Red being a smug 'too smart for her panties' know it all. And conceded that occasionally the redhead did have some good ideas. And if an armful of naked B was the bonus ... she'd let Red make all of their travel plans from now on.

Oh yeah, this is going to be the greatest vacation ever.

Buffy ended the embrace, pulling back to grin happily at Willow and Faith.

"You guys look great." Buffy appraised her visitors warmly. "But a little overdressed." She arched a brow at Willow in challenge. The redhead blushed.

"Uhm ... yeah ... bout that ... me naked in public ... probably not gonna happen."

Buffy laughed. Faith was already stripping out of her shorts and shirts, and tossing her clothes onto the sand.

"How the hell'd you guys get past security?" Buffy questioned, a suspicious glance cast in Willow's direction.

"Stealth and cleverness?" Willow pasted on an innocent expression. Buffy's smiled broadened. She knew better. "Okay. Magic," Willow caved. "I may have cast a tiny," she placed a thumb and forefinger a little space apart in front of her nose, "Itty bitty glamour spell."

"Will, what's the difference between being naked and just making it appear that you're naked."

"Well uh ... maybe I kinda changed my uh .. you know ... look."

"Face too huh?" Buffy giggled.

"Yep, right up to my blushing roots."

The redhead reached down and retrieved Faith's discarded clothes from the sand. The brunette waggled her brows, and smiled evilly.

"How about it, Red? Wanna get naked and naughty?"

"Nope." Willow clutched Faith's things to her chest and eyed the two women suspiciously.

"Two against one," Buffy laughed at her high school friend.

"Can we have a re vote?"

"Nope." Buffy folded her arms across her chest. Willow thought it odd how that defiant look lost none of its menace without clothing. "But we'll get you drunk enough on daiquiris that you won't care."

"Then count me in."


CHRISTMAS IN BRAZIL 2003

From the balcony of Buffy's villa, Willow studied the on-goings below.

The beach was alive with festivities, music, wine and dancing. Small fires illuminated the night.

Because of the hot weather Father Christmas, Papai Noel was dressed in a red silk suit with boots and his bag was filled of presents. Willow couldn't suppress a grin. 'Father Noel' was the only one present wearing a stitch of clothes.

Children sat excitedly around the small flames, laughing—playing with toys and unwrapping gifts. Many of those gifts had come from the local charities, and quite a few Willow, Buffy and Faith had contributed.

Willow felt good about that. It felt good to contribute something more than just magical backup in a bloody skirmish with demons. This was what life was about. And oh how easy it was to forget.

A large pine tree had been erected and decorated with ornaments and burning candles.

The Presépio, a Brazilian Nativity Scene, was amazingly life-like but there were shepherdesses rather than shepherds gathered around the carving of the family and the child lying in a bed of straw and a gypsy attempting to kidnap the Christ Child.

Willow took it all in with a sense of awe. Though Jewish by birth, a practitioner of magics, the influence of powerful religious icons and beliefs of other cultures was not lost on her.

And the lively spirits of those gathered at the Christmas celebration touched something deep within, making her sorrow and yet settled in her resolved.

This is why we do it. This why we are out their every night saving the world.

She closed her eyes, fighting off the image of that nightmare in which her adopted family had been slaughtered.

Tonight is not about death.

There'd been other dreams before and since, one in particular, as recent as the night before, not as frightening but equally worrisome and it had stuck with her throughout the day.

It like the others felt like a portent, to which she wanted to give no power.

But can I afford to ignore it? Or any of them?

"Missing the party, Red."

Willow opened her eyes. She glanced down at the beach spotting Buffy, laughing and playing tag with some of the children. She turned, leaning her back on the railing.

"So are you."

"Christmas ain't never been my thang." Faith shrugged, looking uncomfortable under Willow's scrutiny. She moved to stand beside the redhead and looked down at the beach. "She's amazing," Faith whispered. "The way she can just fit anywhere."

Willow studied the dark haired Slayer's profile.

"She ain't been here a year and these people just love her."

"She's a golden girl." Willow turned and joined Faith in watching the gathering. "I think that's one of the things that I admired about Buffy the most. She could have kept what she was a secret to everyone, joined the clique of the snooty high school cheerleader brigade but instead ..."

"Yeah ..." Faith nodded. Willow felt the Slayer's gaze on her. "So what's eatin' at you, Red."

Her heart slammed against her breast bone.

Willow chewed her lower lip. The silence drew out. Too long apparently, as Faith suddenly shrugged her shoulders as though defeated. She started to move away.

"Fuck it." Faith's voice was gruff. "I know how to mind my own ..."

"Wait."

Willow reached out and grabbed Faith's right hand with her left, stopping her retreat. Willow's heart pounded hard in her chest.

"I just ..." Faith turned back to face her.

"Red, forget it. It ain't my place to ..."

"No. I'm so scared sometimes, Faith. I..." Willow shook her head and then shuddered. "It's ... I dreamed last night that I was a vampire."

She squeezed her eyes shut, too late to stop the tears. The hand she held gave hers a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

The dream had been intensely erotic and terrifying. And perhaps even more frightening was that the identity of her vampire-self's attentions, even now, remained a mystery. And yet Willow felt as though she should know. As though it were important that she know. And it had felt so real. Too real.

"Do you ever get scared that ..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "that it's still there—just waiting to come out."

She opened her eyes too find Faith regarding her with kinship.

"All the time," Faith acknowledged and then the dark Slayer did something completely shocking. She pulled Willow into a hug and held on tight as though she would never let go. "You're not evil," Faith whispered. She sounded so sure, that Willow felt some of the tension within her ease.

"You sound so sure." Willow pulled out the embrace gently, curious as to how Faith had simply formed her opinion.

Faith nodded, adding a smug grin.

"That's cause I'm smarter than you." Faith winked, pinched Willow on the ass, and then took off down the balcony for the beach. She called over her shoulder to the sputtering redhead, "And faster."

Willow stared after the retreating Slayer, shocked, and her butt smarted a little from the pinch. She suddenly felt lighter. Freer. A full bloom smile curved the corners of her lips as Faith's laughter floated up to her from below.

Willow took off down the flight of steps.

"We'll see about that!"


Last night.

Willow felt a sense of melancholy about returning to the real world in the morning. She leaned against the balcony railing, letting the night breeze touch her skin.

Happy New Year.

She hadn't even sunburned and that was an accomplishment. She was quite proud.

Willow wondered if it were a bad omen that she'd had so much fun, probably the most fun time she'd had in a long time? And without Kennedy? She hadn't told Giles where she and Faith were headed. Heck, she hadn't even mentioned that she was inviting Faith along on the much needed vacation.

She was glad she had though. We all needed this.

Those two needed this.

She peered up at the open window of Buffy's bedroom and smiled at the soft sighs and moans of pleasure coming from the two women above. Maybe it was a one-shot deal for both women or maybe it would develop into something more. But Willow felt the very real peace that had settled between the once former nemeses. And she basked in the feeling. It soothed her.

Funny, how things work out. Her lips quirked into a small grin. Buffy and I grew so far apart and I was so sure nothing would ever repair the damage I did to our friendship.

But Willow had been willing to fight for it. It's why she kept up the calls, the letter writings and had finally decided on this visit. She sighed.

And then there's Faith. Willow glanced towards Buffy's bedroom window again.

Willow had even stunned herself when she'd called Faith up out of the blue and had suggested they spend Christmas together. Stunned her even more when the dark haired Slayer had accepted.

And who'd believe we actually managed a sensitive chat?

The moment she'd decided to surprise Buffy with a Christmas visit, though prompted by a nightmare, and the ghost of her former love, Willow had found herself reaching for the phone and dialing Faith's number.

She couldn't even remember the last time she'd talked to Faith on the phone about anything other than Slayer/Watcher business.

Nudist beaches ... the new therapeutic wave for resolving differences. Being naked made it a little hard to hide the real you. Willow sighed and peered up at the sliver of the moon, or maybe it made hiding easier.

Her smile vanished. She could feel the carefree Willow slipping away as the hours dwindled.

Tomorrow reality would invade her peace again. She would be miles away from her friend and her little slice of Paradise. Faith would remain a week longer and then return to L.A. and to her team of unruly Slayers and Angel Inc.

Willow would return to Cleveland and to the arms of the woman who was becoming more and more of a stranger.

Or maybe it's just me. I still miss, Tara. So much, I'm conjuring her up from imagination when I need comfort.

Kennedy hadn't been the slightest upset at Willow's declining of Christmas with her and her family. Not that Ken's family liked her. They didn't. They so didn't.

Bet she'd be shocked if she found out I ended up in Brazil anyway.

TBC...