Willow was lying flat on her back in the bed she used to share with Tara. It felt so big and empty now.
Sort of like my heart.
Willow sighed deeply. She had been home for five months, and she still had trouble sleeping.
Seven months since Tara died.
Time seemed to race by and to trudge by. A weird thing, time. Wasn't it supposed to heal, too?
Willow shook her head, trying to lighten her mood. She WAS healing. Granted, there was a long way to go still, but she was living at least. And it wasn't really about Tara anymore. Yes, she still grieved for her, but she had also accepted it.
Yes, I loved her. And she loved me. But just because she doesn't mean I can't love and be loved again. She saw "me", but so did Oz. Xander does too, in a different way. I'm a person that people can love. My chance for that didn't die with Tara.
So, no, it wasn't for Tara she still needed time to heal. It was for Warren and Giles, Buffy and Dawn, Xander and Anya, Jonathan and that other guy. And the whole world. How could she even begin to atone?
It was times like these she ached for someone to hold her. Not Tara – it could never be Tara again. But maybe someone else, someday…
She drifted off to sleep, dreaming of strong arms encircling her. She wasn't quite sure when the dream arms became Dream Oz's arms.
* * *
"Thank you, come again." Willow said in a sing-songy voice. She was working at the Magic Box, trying to help pay off the debt. It had taken so much to rebuild it…again. She vowed to herself: the next time the store was destroyed, it would not be because of her!
The bell above the door chimed.
"Hi, Will!" Buffy and Dawn walked in the store. Dawn threw her backpack down on the table and dug out her math homework. Buffy went to the counter to talk to her friend before she went to train in the backroom.
"How's it going? Business booming?"
"Oh, you know. Same old, same old." Willow twisted her hair around some fingers. It was long again, like high school. Buffy thought for a second about all that happened since she first met the shy nerd with a crush on her best friend. Things would be so different if she hadn't! She was so grateful she did, despite the heartaches over the years. The joy was so much more important.
The girls talked for a few more minutes. Then Buffy went into the back, stretched and began with the punching bag.
She started slow, but soon she was attacking the bag with pent up anger…and sadness.
When had the bag become Spike in her mind?
She was so angry at him for attacking her, but also for leaving her. She was angry at herself for saying the things she did, basically pushing him away since Day 1. She was angry at herself for caring – for missing him. For being sad.
Despite all that, she was glad he hadn't returned. She wasn't sure what she wanted yet, or how she'd react. Or even how she should. She did want him to come back sooner or later; whether she could admit it or not, he was a big part of her life and part of her felt empty without him. Yes, she wanted him back – but that didn't mean she wasn't sure she wouldn't stake him upon his return.