TITLE: The Longest Night
SERIES: Wheel of the Year
AUTHOR: Nymue
EMAIL: josette@aol.com
RATED: R
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Not yours. They belong to Joss, the WB, UPN and FOX. This is a not-for-profit fanfiction. No infringement is intended.
SUMMARY: The Winter Solstice is the longest night of the year in more than one sense.
SPOILERS: For action, up through "Into the Woods" and "Reunion."
NOTE: The incantation is adapted from the one by Starhawk in "The Spiral Dance."
FEEDBACK: Is much appreciated.
***
A woman once confessed to her priest that she had been gossiping. To her surprise, he merely instructed that she go gather the ripe head of a thistle and scatter the seeds on the wind, then return to him. She did so, all the while wondering about such an odd request. However, her penance was only beginning; when she returned to the priest, he did not forgive her but said, "The thistledown is scattered as were your idle words. My daughter, go and gather up the thistledown!"
-- Chasing Thistledown, a folk tale of unknown origin as told by Laura Ingalls Wilder
***
I've told a lot of lies.
Too many, way too many.
I've lied about the little things, like the way I feel, you know, the stuff we all lie about sometimes. But I've told some even worse lies … and the worst were the ones I'd told myself.
Until tonight.
Most of my lies were about my parents. I tried to pretend they didn't drink, that he didn't hit me and she didn't care, but I always knew so I always lied. Wills knew, or had an idea even as a kid … she never suggested that we stay at my house and I never said a word. I was too relieved. Even Jesse knew, I think, but he never said anything either.
Giles always knew, in that stuffy British way he has of knowing just about everything, but he never said anything either … just let it be known that his door was always open and his mouth closed. I took him up on his offer a couple of times, but we never really talked about it and we certainly never mentioned it to the others.
Cordy … how could she not know? I tried to hide it like I always did but she had this way of cutting through all the bullshit. She tried to help; she actually *talked* about it, but I guess I wasn't ready cause although she talked, *we* never talked. I loved her, lusted after her, but *we* never talked … *she* talked at me. At least she never brought it up after she went back to the Corbitches, oops, I mean, Cordettes.
And Buffy. Buffy. You know, she pretended not to, but there were days when I was sure she knew, like those nights when I patrolled with her and we would talk … it was like she could see the truth behind the lies. She never mentioned it but, like Willow, never suggested anything that would put me in their way. She taught me about honor and loyalty and fighting … and I lied to her more than once. I think that I lied to her and to myself *about* her more than anything else; like, I told her she was one of my best friends but I never even tried to support her relationship with Angel. The words "Willow says kick his ass" come to mind, and when I lied to Faith about Angel … and the way I lied to myself about her feelings for me. I always thought that if Angel were gone then I would have a chance, and when it finally happened I didn't care as much as I thought I would.
Why?
Anya. It's funny, but Anya figured it out almost immediately and proceeded to talk about it, to make me talk about it. She could -- can -- bitch about the oddest thing, but she cares. She *cares.* And she makes me care, too. A year ago I wasn't sure about what we had, if it was real or just another fluke, but ever since this spring and especially after the whole Toth thing I started to understand. I can tell her things that I've never told anyone else, like those five little words I said on a sunny morning in 1998 when the world almost ended. She listened and told me what she honestly thought ("if I had been around here then I probably would have cursed you for that"), but it didn't change her feelings for me. And … I had never realized what was happening last year until after the whole First Slayer thing … it took me months to realize that I was changing, that she was *helping* me change not *making* me change. I can't lie to her; I can't hide things from her … and I love her for it.
Which is why what I did tonight was so truly horrible.
I lied tonight, out of anger and ignorance. And not just to myself, either … I lied to Riley and Buffy, too. I told him that she would get past these problems and that they would be okay, but I knew better. I knew that this was it; Riley had told me months ago that he knew Buffy didn't love him and I couldn't contradict him then. I tried to tonight, but it was an effort in futility, to quote Giles. And I was mad -- at her, at him, at me. So when I saw her … I wanted to help her, to help them heal their great relationship … but one look in her eyes told me that it had been a sham. She was pretending so much, withholding … and he hadn't. And she knew it, so she was going to let him go.
But somehow I just couldn't hold it in. I shouldn't have lied to her like that. I shouldn't have told her that he was so great for her when not three minutes later I realized I was lying. For him, yes, but for me too; it was like all my unrequited feelings of being not good enough for her came to the surface. And I knew it was wrong, damn it! I haven't cared about her like that in nearly a year, but I just couldn't stop my mouth. And she ran … but I have this feeling it was too late.
And that it's for the best.
But I still hurt her tonight. She'll blame herself, she always does, but I know I made it worse by opening my mouth. And I won't stop now. It's time to keep talking, to get it all out, because there are things that I've left unsaid for too damn long. No more standing in front of this door wondering, debating. It's time.
Now.
"I've gotta say something ... 'Cause ... I don't think I've made it clear. I'm in love with you. Powerfully, painfully in love. The things you do ... the way you think ... the way you move ... I get excited every time I'm about to see you. You make me feel like I've never felt before in my life. Like a man. I just thought you might wanna know."
***
Lies.
pain
How much of what she told me was lies, how much was truth? 'I've given you all of myself,' or some such drivel she spouted off months ago, now makes me feel … angry. Very angry. I don't have all of her, obviously. Her mother, her sister, Giles, the others … they occupy a larger part of her than I ever will.
And let's not even start on the vampires. Please. It's just wrong. I can see why they're drawn to her, but why is the feeling mutual? hunger She's supposed to kill them, not fuck them! And never, ever love them!
need
Oh, God, help me. This hurts; it hurts so much. Is this my punishment for straying from the Cause, for idling with Buffy? Or are You her partisan? Is this my punishment for what I did, what I allowed them to do? And if it is, why aren't You punishing her, too?
prick
Oh, yes. This is good. Thank you, Graham, I needed that.
"It'll be okay, Riley," he assures me. "The withdrawal will be over soon and then we'll get you back into the mission. We'll be far away from Sunnydale."
The mission. The Cause.
numb
Far, far away …
***
"Lemme get this straight: the priest told her to go pick up all the seeds?" Faith sounded incredulous. "That's not possible."
The shrink, Lenny, just looked at her.
"Okay," she said grudgingly. "I get the point. She couldn't pick up all her lies, right?"
"Right."
"So what's that got to do with me?"
"What d'ya think, doll?"
"I think you're being cryptic."
"Maybe."
Faith snorted, but she thought about it nonetheless. She'd told a lot of lies in her life, yeah, but somehow she didn't think it had anything to do with lying, not really. Everyone -- or almost everyone -- she lied to knew about it now, and they were dealing and she was dealing, so that wasn't it. Besides, you can't pick up lies except to say "sorry" whereas you can do good things to make up for bad things --
"You're talking about redemption, right? Chasing thistledown equals the long road to redemption."
Lenny grinned. "Now you're getting there."
"But chasing the thistle stuff sounds pointless, like you can't do it … it's pointless. That's the point."
"Not really," Lenny told her. "It just takes time and persistence … and once you start you can't stop."
Faith studied his face for a moment, much as she had during their first encounter. He looked human, sounded human, but he didn't *feel* human; yet, for all that, she trusted him as much as she could anyone. She was never sure why she trusted him, but she did. "So, Lenny … how do you know so much about redemption. And how did a demon get to be a shrink?"
"In reverse order? Don't ask, don't tell, and it happens to be my special area. I have lots of expertise in helping all sorts of beings back on the right tract."
"Don't ask, don't tell, huh," Faith snorted. "I guess that means Lenny ain't your real name."
"I've got lots of names, kid, you can't expect me to remember them all," Lenny grinned. "Besides, it doesn't matter."
"Oh, really?"
He shrugged. "You're not the first one to need a little help finding your balance, Faith, and you won't be the last either. But right now I'm all yours."
Faith snorted again. "And this is supposed to reassure me? How am I supposed to know your tract record, Mr. I Mugged a Clown?"
Lenny leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the desk. "Well, doll, if it helps … "
"Yeah?"
"My last assignment?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"Was Angel."
Faith stared.
Lenny winked.
***
How did this happen?
Wesley looks shell-shocked, or whatever that term is. Gunn doesn't look so good, either.
And why are they looking at me like that? Why?
Oh.
It's my face, I feel it now, the expression that's frozen to my face. Someone once told me that if your expression stayed the same for too long that it would freeze that way and never change. You know, the old line that goes 'if you don't quit frowning your face will freeze that way' … or something like. Silly words to scare a little girl who already knew about the importance of appearances … but it did scare me, later, after I joined Buffy and the others. Not like magick scary, but afraid that I'd stayed apart so long that I couldn't afford to feel … and later I worried that I just *couldn't* feel, but then came Xander and everything else, and I knew that not only could I feel but that I did feel. And by then I didn't want to feel, so the expression became frozen again until I hit LA and everything with Doyle … and I can't hide from the visions.
I thought that I'd never feel this raw, though. The visions don't feel this bad … I feel like I've been impaled again through those words, those two simple words …
"Oh, God, no … "
***
Joyce glanced over her shoulder at the table and took a steadying breath. Rupert had promised that tonight was more ritual than spells and magick, which was why she had agreed to host the Winter Solstice meeting that Willow and Tara had planned. A brazier with a heat-absorbing mat beneath it sat atop her dining room table, permeating the air with spicy scents that she was forced to admit reminded her vaguely of her childhood Christmases. Even the mulled cider and the mistletoe and holly decorations seemed perfectly normal for the seasonal celebration, and she was once more struck with the feeling that perhaps she had been wrong to dissuade Dawn from learning a bit of Witchcraft. Still, she acknowledged that she would feel better if her eldest were present. "Shouldn't we wait for Buffy?"
Giles looked up from his preparations to meet the troubled eyes of his Slayer's mother. She seemed so much better and would be even moreso if the doctors were to be believed, but her eyes still looked tired. "No, she said to start without her. I believe that she had business tonight … with Riley, perhaps."
"What about Xander and Anya?"
Dawn snickered.
Joyce narrowed her eyes at her daughter. "Just what is that supposed to mean?"
Long, dark hair was tossed back as Dawn lifted her head to stare at her mother, blue eyes incredulous. "We all know what they're doing, Mom. Think about it."
Joyce was flustered the response and glanced to Giles only to find that doing so still made her blush, even after more than two years. It was one night Joyce, she chided herself, if you're going to blush, blush about that nice Brian you met recently. "Oh, yes, well, mmmphmm … "
Luckily, she was saved by the entrance of Willow and Tara, who promptly seated everyone and cast a simple circle. A circle was more for show, but it should still be done unless the spell was really small and simple or there was no time, Willow thought as she prepared the prelude speech. "This is the night of the Solstice, the longest night of the year. Now the darkness triumphs, yet gives way for the light … we wait for the coming of dawn … the promise of summer. This is the stillness behind motion, when time itself stops … we are awake in the night … "
Tara took up the reins. "To die is to be reborn, but what must you lose to the night?"
Five sets of eyes met across the table and their mouths spoke in unison even as each reached out for a connection of flesh and blood, squeezes and light touches giving reassurance. "Fear, fear is lost to the night … "
***
Fear and lies.
For the two strongest warriors, the champions of prophecy, these two things cause pain, anguish and despair. One knows the power that lies can have, knows the pain they bring even when meant with the best of intentions. One sees a few lies as necessary to the greater good. Both are correct and both are wrong. Both have much to fear, but both have learned that their fears need not rule them.
But only practice makes perfect.
END