Chapter Twenty-Four
Willow came out of the main bathroom and saw JJ holding a bowl of Cheerios and a glass of orange juice and Robyn jumping up and down trying to open the door of Willow and Tara's bedroom.
She hurried over before Robyn could make contact.
"Kids, no. Mom is sleeping. Later, okay?"
"But the p—" JJ started to protest.
"I know," Willow cut in quickly, "But the babies kept us up late last night and Mom needs to sleep, okay?"
The bedroom door opened and Tara squeezed herself out, closing it again.
"I'm not sleeping," she said, indicating she'd heard the whole conversation, "The babies are."
JJ thrust his breakfast offerings up at her, which Tara took in confusion.
With her heart breaking, Willow leaned over and discreetly whispered to Tara.
"It's your birthday."
"Oh," Tara replied, her brow line evening out, "Oh!"
"Happy Birthday, Mom!" JJ said eagerly.
"'ap-ee bir'fay Mom-mee!" Robyn clapped her hands and kicked her feet at the same time.
Tara cleared her throat and kneeled down to put an arm around them both, the bowl and glass still held precariously in her hands.
"Thank you," she said sincerely and kissed each of their heads, "This is really great. I love you both so much."
She stood and Willow encouraged the kids toward the stairs.
"You guys go make a card for later, okay?"
They went off happy to have completed their mission and Willow relieved Tara of the dishes.
"I'm sorry. They were so eager."
Tara shook her head softly.
"It was very sweet," she replied and reached up to brush some hair from her face, "I forgot what day it was."
Willow tried to keep her face neutral as if she wasn't remembering ringing in the New Year alone or that it had been the first time ever that they didn't partake in their tradition of the first things to be said to each other being Happy New Year/Happy Birthday.
"Yeah, you passed out last night," she said, managing to remain chipper, "Which is great. That you're sleeping. Now."
Tara just nodded.
"If it's my birthday then it's Alex's birthday as well."
"Jesse is going to pick up Robyn and JJ on the way to the party," Willow explained.
"Oh, that's kind of him," Tara returned, tucking some hair behind her ear.
"Yeah. I think he and Alice are fighting, he seemed grateful to have an excuse to leave early," Willow breathed and swallowed, "Did you sleep well?"
Tara paused.
"I…slept," she answered cagily.
The sleeping pills were making her get some forced shut-eye in the immediate aftermath of taking them but she would be roused after a while by the babies and then would then be awake all night in a groggy state. So she was getting some sleep, but not any rest.
Especially when just existing felt exhausting.
Willow took a step forward.
"Tara—"
"I'm too tired to fight, Willow," Tara said jadedly.
"Well, um, I'll get rid of this stuff," Willow replied and felt awkward about the fact that it still felt so awkward between them.
It was a whole seven-layer cake of discomfort.
Tara nodded again and returned to the bedroom, probably to stare some more.
Willow downed the juice, feeling like she needed the sugar rush and went into the bathroom again. She intended to toss the cereal down the sink but she ended up sitting on the edge of the bath and eating it instead, wondering what new way she could try to convince Tara to try the anti-depressants without getting into another argument about it.
With a lone Cheerio staring back at her sadly, she went back downstairs and busied herself with getting the kids ready for the party. She was busy wrapping up the Build-Your-Own-Mug Lego kit they'd gotten for Alex when JJ came up by her side.
"I can wrap it, Momma."
"Oh, thanks," she replied as honestly she had been struggling, then frowned, "Wait, why?"
JJ shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
"Last year Aunty Anya said it looked like you wrapped it with your feet."
Willow looked unamused but stepped aside for JJ to finish the wrapping. She helped Robyn get her shoes on and played This Little Piggy to elicit some giggles.
"Now, you guys be good today at the trampoline park ," she said as she did up the buttons on Robyn's coat, "Uncle Xander is in charge."
She leaned into JJ.
"Make sure she thinks the big kids are going to a soft play area too, okay?"
"Got it, Momma," JJ replied with a nod and a smile toward Robyn.
A car beeped outside and Willow opened the door and waved to Jesse.
"Bye kids. Say a big huge Happy Birthday to Alex from Aunty Willow and Aunty Tara!"
The car drove off and Willow closed the door again. Just as soon as she made a step to go get some coffee, the bedroom door burst open from upstairs and Willow was met with a cacophony of shrill screaming.
"Double explosive diaper situation," Tara explained as she hurried down the stairs, the handles of a bassinet closed in each hand, "They won't stop wailing. I think they're really uncomfortable."
"On it," Willow replied, hurrying over to relieve Tara of one baby.
They changed the babies and they washed the babies and put them in new clothes but nothing seemed to stop their crying, which wasn't like them. They had no fever and their cries weren't high-pitched but they were constant and miserable.
"Why won't they stop crying?" Tara groaned, near tears as she bounced Emily in her arms, "They won't eat, they won't sleep!"
Lily had hushed for about twelve seconds when Willow put her in her car seat to rock, so she took Emily to do the same. Emily too quieted for a few seconds but quickly joined back in again when there was no more movement.
"Tara, you have to let me take them out! In the stroller, in the car, just anything that moves!"
Willow reached out to her wife desperately.
"Please, Tara!"
"Don't touch me!" Tara shrieked, bewildering Willow.
Tara felt her breath catch and tightness begin on her neck as if someone was choking her.
Her hand flew there and she had to breathe in twice to be able to speak.
"Fine!" she said through a tensed jaw, feeling her control over her own body slipping with every passing second, "Fine! Take them, take them! Anywhere, I don't care, just make it stop!"
Willow promptly stood up and picked up each holder of the car seat but paused at how frantic Tara looked.
"I don't want to leave you like this."
"Just go!" Tara insisted, tears pricking her eyes.
She didn't even feel like she was the one shaking anymore; it was like an earthquake was going off beneath her feet.
Willow walked past and out the door to bring the twins to the car and hopefully settle them.
Upon hearing the door bang, Tara fell to her knees and started to cry. Beginning to feel too out of control, she tried to do some of the breathing exercises she'd been taught during the session with Erin.
It wasn't working, or it wasn't working fast enough to her frantic mind, so she tore her purse apart to find her bottle of sleeping pills. Erin had said she could take one if a panic attack got too much but she hadn't because she was too worried about her milk.
Right now, she felt as on edge as she ever had.
She had to use Robyn's sippy cup to swallow it and sat back on the couch, just catching her breath.
Gradually things slowed, first in her body and then in her mind. She realized a little too late that she needed to get herself upstairs to bed. She wobbled as she stood.
On the stairs, she stumbled and fell onto her knee about halfway up.
In the hall, Woofy stood to attention from where he had been curled up.
The pill bottle was still closed in Tara's palm, so she used her other hand to get herself up and dragged herself up the last few steps and into the bedroom. She fell back onto the pillows and promptly passed out.
Woofy poked his head in the door, having followed, and sniffed the air. He pushed the door open with his nose and came up to the bed. He lifted his front paws onto the bed, licked Tara's hand, and when there was no response, whimpered.
A little while later, Willow opened the door and walked in with two sleeping babies in their car seats.
Immediately, from the top of the stairs, Woofy began barking.
Willow grimaced.
"Ssssh, Woofs! I just got them down."
Woofy barked again and jumped down two steps.
"Woofy!" Willow hissed and Woofy ran back upstairs and looked at her intently, "What is it?"
He barked again and Willow winced. She put the car seats down gently and followed Woofy upstairs.
"What is it?!" she asked, more annoyed than anything else.
He ran into their bedroom and barked. Willow pushed the door open fully and was relieved to see Tara was getting some sleep.
She walked over and sat next to her on the edge of the bed, resisting the urge to touch Tara's face. She still looked fretful; the way she'd looked for so many weeks now.
She reached for the blanket to put over her when she spotted the pill bottle in Tara's hand.
The empty pill bottle.
"Tara?" Willow asked in alarm as she grabbed the bottle and turned it upside down as if the pills inside would suddenly appear, "Tara!"
She jumped up and began violently shaking Tara.
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" she wailed as she went into full-blown panic mode, "C'mon Tara!"
Getting no response, she grabbed two fistfuls of Tara's shirt and physically dragged her across the room into their bathroom. She dropped to the floor, grabbed Tara's head, and forced her fingers into Tara's mouth.
Tara began to groggily resist.
"Get it out, c'mon!" Willow yelled.
Tara's head dropped forwards against the seat and Willow pulled her phone out and called 911.
"I need an ambulance! My wife, she overdosed on her sleeping pills! I don't know how many but she emptied the bottle! Send someone, please!"
She gave them the address and pulled Tara to her again, finally succeeding in getting Tara to vomit.
"C'mon Tara!" she coached, "Come on baby, get it out! Don't do this, baby!"
She could hear the twins starting to scream again but she had to be focused on Tara, who was now laying disorientated with her cheek on the toilet seat. Willow started slapping her cheek gently.
"Tara, wake up! C'mon baby, please!"
She started to cry as she stroked Tara's hair.
Shortly after, she heard a male voice call out.
"We're upstairs!" Willow yelled and stood up quickly.
A male paramedic appeared after following Willow's voice.
"Ma'am your children are unattended downstairs."
Willow nearly felt a vein pop.
"I KNOW THAT!"
"My colleague is attending to them," the paramedic replied with a practiced calmness that was unnerving nonetheless, "What did she take?"
Willow found the bottle and shoved it at him.
"How many?"
"I don't know," Willow threw up her hands, "Okay? I don't know! Can you just help her!?"
The paramedic bent down to assess Tara and radioed down to his partner to bring up the stretcher. Willow was told to go down to the twins, so she did, despite her heart still racing a mile a minute.
She watched Tara being brought out and loaded into the ambulance. She grabbed two fistfuls of her own hair as she watched the blue lights flash off the street. She quickly grabbed her phone again.
"Dad, Dad, I need you to come over right away! Right now, they took her off in an ambulance! Please Dad, right now! I have the kids, I can't leave them but I have to go to the hospital! Please, Daddy!"
Ira showed up to the door, flustered, six minutes later.
"What happened, is it Emily?"
"No, it's Tara!" Willow cried, her cheeks stained with her tears, "It's just the twins, can you handle the twins?"
Ira looked around, a little bewildered and spotted the babies in their car seats, thankfully quiet again.
"Yes, of course."
Willow grabbed her purse.
"I-I left some of their milk in the fridge and the diaper bag is in the living room. Robyn won't be home until later, JJ either, they're at the party. I, I don't know if I'll…" she stopped and gulped, "We'll be home."
Ira stood in front of Willow and grabbed her upper arms.
"Willow, what happened?"
Willow dropped her chin and began to blubber.
"Tara…she took too many pills and…"
"W-what?" Ira asked, shocked.
"S-She's been struggling and they gave her sleeping pills and she took them all," Willow cried, "I'm sorry, Dad, I have to go!"
She sprang out of the hallway and ran to the car.
Through torturous traffic, Willow finally made it to the hospital and flung herself at the triage desk.
"H-Hi. My, My wife was brought in. Tara Rosenberg-Maclay. Is she okay?!"
She'd had to ask that question far too often for her liking in the past few months.
Behind the triage nurse, a man in a white coat put down a chart.
"I got this one, Genie," he called over and curled a finger at Willow, "Come through."
Willow pushed off the desk and ran through the automatic doors when she was buzzed in.
"My wife, is she okay?" she asked in a rush as she read the nametag, "Dr. Gordon. Is she conscious?"
Dr. Gordon nodded.
"She's awake. And she's going to be fine."
Willow let out a shaken breath.
"Oh thank god," she said, clutching her chest and doing her best not to cry, "W-What happens next? Can I see her?"
"Well…" Dr. Gordon replied, elongating the word, "You can take her home."
Willow's brow creased.
"Wait…we can just go home?" she asked, then lowered her voice, "She took an overdose."
Dr. Gordon shook his head.
"She didn't…actually."
Willow did a double-take.
"Huh?"
Dr. Gordon sighed.
"When she was brought in we were going to pump her stomach but she came around enough to get us to stop. She was able to explain that she'd only taken one pill — her last one. We verified this with the pharmacy. She was due a refill at her next appointment with her psychiatrist. She never took more than one pill."
Willow looked like she'd been slapped in the face.
"B-But…" she trailed off meekly, "But the dog was barking."
The doctor said nothing but the look he gave Willow told her she was the one he thought was barking, barking mad.
"It's a standard response to commit someone to a 72-hour psychiatric hold in these situations but given her story checks out, we're happy to release her."
Willow's breath suddenly started to come in short, angry bursts.
"So you're telling me I dragged my post-natal-depression-riddled wife across her bedroom, forced my fingers down her throat while she was under the influence of a sleeping pill, violently made her throw up, threw her into an ambulance dazed and confused, had her brought to the same hospital where the depression-triggering event happened so she could beg not to get a tube shoved down her throat and even more of her stomach contents bought up, almost got her locked away for 72 hours, away from her children in a hold that could affect her career…all because she just needed a little help taking a nap?" she asked, close to shrieking, "On her birthday?!"
"She also sustained a bump to the head. Presumably during the…forced emesis," Dr. Gordon replied without any tact, which he seemed to realize pretty quick off of Willow's look, "But entirely superficial, no lasting effects."
Willow pinched the bridge of her nose to stave the tears.
"She's been through too much. Enough has to be enough!"
Dr. Gordon just bowed his head.
"I'll get the discharge papers ready. She's in room 4C."
Willow's head fell back against the wall and she closed her eyes.
This was the lowest she'd ever felt.
She wanted to sink down on that wall and crumble into oblivion but more than that, she wanted to just know she'd done right by Tara. So she pulled herself together, reminding herself she was the only one of the two of them who could pull themselves together at that moment. She walked around until she found room 4C.
She lingered in the doorway. Tara looked so frail; curled up, pale, despondent.
Tara looked up when she sensed movement and their eyes locked. After a moment, Tara turned on her side with her back to Willow.
Willow's heart broke in two.
But she stood up straight. She'd take whatever beating she had to. She would be strong.
"They said we can leave," she said, her voice echoing around the room, "I'll just…I'll wait outside."
She wandered back out and sat on one of the little plastic chairs attached to the wall.
A few minutes later, Tara appeared with her head held down so Willow didn't try to push any conversation. She didn't know what to say, anyway.
She wordlessly led Tara out of the hospital and hoped that Tara couldn't see the pitiful looks being sent their way with her head down like that.
The car ride home was torturous in a new way for Willow. It wasn't even her own sense of hopelessness; it was that Tara was lost. And for the first time ever, Willow couldn't find her.
When they got home, Tara marched straight past Willow and Ira to check on the babies in the living room.
Ira spun himself around in confusion and approached Willow, whom he immediately wrapped his arms around.
"Darling, what happened?"
"Misunderstanding," Willow swallowed repeatedly, "Just a…misunderstanding."
She could have easily fallen apart in her father's arms like that, but she didn't.
"Were the twins okay?"
Ira nodded.
"A little fussy at first. I sang a few songs you enjoyed as a youngster," he replied, then added on fondly, "They seemed quite partial to Frère Jacques."
Willow exhaled softly.
"Thank you, Dad. I really appreciate it."
Ira offered a smile.
"I can stay and help with anything you need."
Willow shook her head.
"No, Dad. I'll take care of my family. But thank you. So much."
She hugged him again and waved him off and then turned back to look at the living room door.
She took a step forward, then hesitated.
Inside, Tara had a tiny baby hand wrapped around a finger on each hand and was staring again.
This time, she wasn't monitoring their breathing or their heart rate or their facial muscles for the faintest sign of distress.
This time, she was staring into their little faces and realizing how much she had to live for.
Not just survive, but live.
The door suddenly burst open and Willow came in, clearly in the middle of a pace that she had started out in the hall.
"I'm sorry, I've been standing outside the door for twenty minutes trying to figure out if I should just leave you alone because I know you hate me right now, deservedly so, or if I should be fighting to show you that I won't leave no matter what. I don't know to do what you want, or what you need, or even which is which! But I love you, I love you so much and I just want you to feel safe. How do I make you feel safe? To feel able to confide in me? I'm trying Tara, but I just, I just need to understand!"
Tara stared at the ground for a moment, then looked to the side slowly. Her voice was physically raw from the afternoon's ordeal.
"Y-you're not the one I hate."
Willow stopped, her brow furrowing deeply.
"Huh?" she asked, utterly bewildered, "Who?"
Tara's gaze finally lifted to Willow.
"Me."
Willow's eyebrows raised and she sank down to sit on the floor by Tara, right in front of the couch. Tara's eyes filled with tears as she continued to look at Willow.
"I h-hate that you thought I could do that. T-that I could leave you a-and the kids like that. I hate that I'm a person you don't know any longer. I hate how I've been treating you."
The tears fell.
"I hate that I can't be the wife you deserve."
Willow started to shake her head
"Tara, no…"
Tara sniffled.
"And it's not even this, it was before I gave birth. This whole pregnancy I shut down. I don't even remember the last time we made love."
Willow had to blink several times; that wasn't a topic she'd felt conflicted about at all.
"You had a lot going on, physically, I completely understood and I still understand," she replied emphatically, "I don't care about that."
Tara's eyes dropped vulnerably.
"If someone had called you from the future and told you we wouldn't have sex for six months, what would you have said?"
Willow took in a slow breath, wanting to give appropriate consideration to the question.
"I would have asked 'does Tara still love me?' A-And if the answer was yes, then I would have said 'whatever it is, we'll get through it'."
She held that breath in her chest.
"Is the answer still yes?"
Tara's head swung up to Willow.
"More than anything," she said as new tears journeyed down her cheeks, "I was ashamed, Willow, that's why I didn't talk to you."
Willow averted her gaze and Tara frowned.
"What is it?"
"You talked to Becky," Willow replied quietly and it felt so petty even coming out of her mouth.
Tara looked away, then nodded.
"I just knew at that moment that she understood. It was too much to explain to you and I was feeling so much already."
Willow gathered she was missing some key information here but it wasn't the time to ask.
"I don't quite understand," she admitted, then nodded several times, "But I am glad you were able to reach out to someone during a bad moment."
"You just want me to reach out to you too," Tara replied softly, finally understanding how much of a communication breakdown they'd let fester between them.
"I just want you to know that you can," Willow replied with softly creased eyes, "I thought…I thought you blamed for all of this."
Tara frowned.
"Why would I blame you?"
Willow looked down.
"Because I gave them permission," she said in a quiet voice, then glanced up when she sensed a confused look being returned, "I gave them permission to take your womb."
Tara was silent.
"I didn't actually know that," she paused for a moment, "But Willow…yes, it's hard for me to have that taken away…but they had no choice. You had no choice."
Willow's eyes sprung with tears.
"What about the voicemail?"
"What voicemail?" Tara asked in confusion.
Willow ran her sleeve over her eyes and looked down shamefully.
"I-I left you a nasty voicemail about not picking up Robyn before I knew what had happened back in the elevator."
Tara could only shrug one shoulder.
"I never listened to it. It probably deleted after seven days. Who cares? You were upset. Everything you've done for us since says a lot more. I-I'm the one who should be blamed. For lashing out, pushing you away."
She swallowed deeply.
"It was traumatic for us both and I've been acting like it was just me," she exhaled and looked at Willow, "A-and I haven't told you everything."
Willow scooted a little bit closer and sniffled.
"I love you, Tara," she said, keeping Tara's gaze constantly, "Nothing could ever change that. You can tell me anything."
Tara nodded and took a few steadying breaths.
"You know I was…diagnosed with post-partum depression."
Willow nodded slowly.
"We never actually talked about it, but yeah, I gathered."
Tara drew her lower lip into her mouth to moisten it.
"I was also diagnosed with PTSD."
Willow's head reeled.
"Whoa," she breathed, then closed her eyes for a second and lots of little moments flashed through her mind, "Of course."
"And I've been having panic attacks," Tara continued while she had the gumption.
Willow exhaled. She didn't know it had gotten to that level.
"Like at college?"
Tara nodded.
"Not exactly the same, but yes."
Willow held up a hand helplessly.
"I'm so sorry I didn't…"
Tara forced herself to turn her head back to Willow.
"Honestly, Willow, this is part of why I didn't tell you. I knew you'd blame yourself and I would blame myself for you blaming yourself."
"And we'd be stuck in a stupid blame cycle that helps exactly no one," Willow finished with an understanding nod, "Especially you."
She paused.
"But I still have to say I'm so sorry about today."
Tara's eyes clouded for a moment. She had thought it was a nightmare at first.
"It was…horrible, really," she stopped and swallowed, trying to put it out of her mind, "But I know why. You thought I'd really…"
Willow's eyes grew glassy.
"I'm so glad you didn't."
"I couldn't," Tara sniffled and Willow helped her wipe her nose this time with Tara's hands still full of baby grip, "But there is something else."
"Whatever it is, I support you," Willow replied with quick but sincere conviction.
Tara met Willow's gaze and kept it, even when her eyes glazed over.
"Y-you," she said, her jaw tensing, "You trigger them. T-the panic attacks."
Willow felt a lot of things upon hearing that but managed to keep them in check.
"Something I do or say?" she asked, and her voice did betray her a tad by growing high pitched at the end.
"When you touch me," Tara admitted and it was clearly hard for her to know how much it must hurt Willow to hear, "You were holding my hand so tight, or, or, I was holding your hand so tight during the birth. But now, when you do that…"
"You go back there," Willow nodded, a lot more things clicking into place, "Now I understand why you got so upset earlier."
She held her hands up.
"I get it. No touching without permission."
"I'm going to work on it in therapy," Tara promised, "It's not fair. Your touch healed me. It's always healed me. And now…"
More tears fell as she looked at Willow vulnerably.
"I miss you so much."
"I'm still here," Willow promised back and started to lift her hand to touch Tara's face, remembering at the last minute to retract it, "I'll just relearn how to show you without it being triggering. Whatever you need, anything you need to get better. I'm not going anywhere. I've got you, Tara."
Tara very slowly let out a breath and looked at Willow.
"Every time I—" she stopped and took a breath, "Even when I'm at my worst…you always make me feel special."
Her eyes creased.
"How do you do that?"
Willow smiled easily. She didn't have an answer for a lot of things, but she did have an answer for this one.
The thing that had always bubbled between them; under their skin; consuming and uniting them.
"Magic."
Tara offered a watery smile.
She looked over at the sleeping babies, then slowly back at Willow. She nodded repeatedly, little jerks of her chin, still wet with tears.
"I'll take the pills."
Willow's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"You will?"
Tara nodded.
"I need them. We need them. The kids need them. I need to be me again. I'll call right now and ask them to send the prescription to the pharmacy. They said they'd be open today."
She looked down at her hands and Willow quickly understood Tara needed to be holding onto the babies for strength. She brought her phone out so she could find the number, which she dialed and held the phone to Tara's ear. Tara put through the request with the receptionist and was asked to hold for Erin.
A minute or so into the conversation, a slow, teary smile spread on her face and she nodded at Willow.
"Speaker," she whispered and Willow obliged in turning it on as Tara spoke again, "C-Can you repeat that please?"
Erin's voice came through.
"I said I had my consultation with the twins' doctors and since neither of them suffers from any impaired metabolite efficiency, she's happy for you to continue breastfeeding while taking the anti-depressants. They'll keep an extra eye on them to assuage any fears but you can be quite reassured it is safe for you to continue doing so."
"Thank you so much, doctor," Willow said, tears flowing too since Tara was too overcome to speak, "We'll collect the pills for her right away."
"See you next week, Tara," Erin said warmly.
"See you next week," Tara said with a hiccup, and Willow put the phone down.
She got Willow to dab at her eyes then rested their foreheads together. It was as close contact as they'd had in a while.
"Happy New Year, Willow."
Willow would have burst out crying if she wasn't already.
"Happy Birthday, Tara."
As they lapsed into silence, they suddenly heard a muffled yapping. Willow looked over her shoulder and realized it was coming from the kitchen. She jumped up and walked in that direction.
"Woofy. My Dad must have put him in there," she said as she picked up the step to let him out, "He was the one who led me to you, he thought…"
She opened the door and Woofy came barreling out and galloped toward Tara.
Willow stepped back into the living room and swallowed deeply.
"He thought something was wrong too."
Woofy leaped all over Tara, licking her face and pawing her. Tara turned her body so he wouldn't disturb the twins.
"Oh, it's okay," she comforted as little whimpers came out between licks, "You're a good boy."
"You are a good boy," Willow agreed as she sat beside Tara again and gently eased him away from her, "Okay, yeah, you're a good boy. Snausage?"
She produced a treat from her pocket which Woofy took between his teeth and curled up between their laps, happy. Willow kept petting him and gifted an occasional scratch between the ears.
"Even though we got him in such sad circumstances, Woofs has been a godsend with the kids through all of these. I watch him, he keeps them grounded playing with them and learning tricks."
She didn't realize just petting him was doing the same for her, keeping her thoughts clear after all of the drama of the day.
"I think we should talk to them," Willow said, looking to Tara with a slightly creased brow, "The kids? Age appropriately, of course, but…you have nothing to hide. I know I keep saying that. But I think it could be good for them to understand. That you have an illness and that it's not their fault and that you will get better. But there will be good days and bad days and it's okay to feel sad on the bad days."
The dark thoughts plagued Tara immediately telling her she was letting them down, that she was ruining their childhood. But then there was a little bright spark of a thought that was their mother and she was human and that showing her humanity was part of showing them how to be good humans too. And that her mother had gone through this and shown her some of the only humanity that she'd known of her childhood.
"I think you're right," she said in a soft, echoing voice, "I think you're right."
She looked over at Willow.
"I might cry."
"It's fine for them to see you cry," Willow replied softly, "To know that it's okay to cry. No different than when Mrs. Potts died."
She remembered how open and honest Tara had been then. Careful not to overwhelm them with her tears but able to communicate the emotion.
It was a striking parallel to how she could see Tara now, clearly ashamed, withdrawn, terrified to express or emote the same feelings.
It made it all the more important to have the conversation. And Willow would aid it however she could because all that mattered now was supporting her wife and her family and—
She suddenly burst into tears.
"And I might cry too because this has all been really scary," she blurted and hastily wiped at her eyes, "But you know what? We're strong. Strong like an Amazon, like you always told me. So we will get through it. Even if we have to shed a few tears along the way."
Lily let go of Tara's hand after falling asleep and Tara twisted so she could dab Willow's eyes this time.
Willow crumbled all over again at the tenderness.
Tara looked at her, then nodded gently in the other direction.
"Hey. C'mere."
Willow was confused because they were already pretty close, but she scooted in closer anyway.
Tara looked over the sleeping babies.
"Look at that. We did that."
She paused and gently let Emily's hand go.
"I've spent so much time looking at them and not enough time appreciating them."
Willow sniffled.
"They are ridiculously cute. And you're right, we should appreciate them now because they have my genes and they're going to be running rampant with curiosity by the time they're eighteen months old. Look at how Robyn is and that's your genes."
Tara laughed and Willow realized it was the first time she'd heard it in a while. A smile blossomed on her face.
"That is a very beautiful sound."
Tara looked over slowly. After looking at Willow's eyes for a moment, her gaze dropped to Willow's lips. She felt a tiny spark of desire that hadn't been there in a while.
"Can I kiss you?"
"Yeah," Willow breathed without hesitation and met her more than halfway.
The kiss was soft and chaste but sweet and sincere and grounded them just a bit better than petting the dog (no offense to Woofy intended or taken).
Willow's hand lingered over Tara's head where the little bump was sticking out, the only physical hangover of the whole ordeal earlier. It looked red and sore but also that it would heal and with that Willow knew they would heal too.
She remembered at the last second not to touch but did speak.
"I love you, Tara."
"I love you, Willow," Tara answered and closed her eyes, "The kids will be home soon. Let's do this for another minute."
"What's 'this'?" Willow asked for clarification.
Tara left the softest of pecks on Willow's lips.
"Appreciation."