TWENTY-TWO
* * *
There.
They had been crossing out sections of the map, one by one, slowly. It seemed a labor.
There.
Dawn looked at her. Tara looked back.
"That's the only place in town that she isn't not."
Dawn nodded. She watched Tara, and Tara watched her back. There was a look that Tara had, a soulful, mournful look in her eyes sometimes that went right into you and right through you. It was pain, yes, but it was more than just her pain, just the pain of her upbringing, the twisted family that had wanted to destroy her spirit and that had abandoned her. No, this was a pain that was the pain of others, too. It was the pain of Willow, struggling to control her power, the pain of Xander as he tried, slowly and painfully, to become a man, the pain of Giles as he fought evil and fought the harsh reality that none of them were the people he had once known. And it was Buffy's pain too, the pain of being torn away from heaven, from the peace of death, to return here and fight once again against evils that never quite went away.
And it was her pain, Dawn's pain, too. Of all of them it was Tara who Dawn knew most understood her, who knew best that Mom's death was something that would never heal, who knew that it would hurt inside forever, and who, in knowing this, had become a little bit of Mom, a little bit of the mother that Buffy could never be.
It was for this and more that Dawn had, not entirely realizing it, sworn her utter loyalty to Tara. And Tara loved Willow; in a way that Dawn didn't fully understand, yes, but she loved her and that was what mattered.
All that mattered.
There.
She was not not there.
Dawn looked at Tara, spoke softly.
"Call Buffy. Call the others."
* * *
There.
They had been crossing out sections of the map, one by one, slowly. It seemed a labor.
There.
Dawn looked at her. Tara looked back.
"That's the only place in town that she isn't not."
Dawn nodded. She watched Tara, and Tara watched her back. There was a look that Tara had, a soulful, mournful look in her eyes sometimes that went right into you and right through you. It was pain, yes, but it was more than just her pain, just the pain of her upbringing, the twisted family that had wanted to destroy her spirit and that had abandoned her. No, this was a pain that was the pain of others, too. It was the pain of Willow, struggling to control her power, the pain of Xander as he tried, slowly and painfully, to become a man, the pain of Giles as he fought evil and fought the harsh reality that none of them were the people he had once known. And it was Buffy's pain too, the pain of being torn away from heaven, from the peace of death, to return here and fight once again against evils that never quite went away.
And it was her pain, Dawn's pain, too. Of all of them it was Tara who Dawn knew most understood her, who knew best that Mom's death was something that would never heal, who knew that it would hurt inside forever, and who, in knowing this, had become a little bit of Mom, a little bit of the mother that Buffy could never be.
It was for this and more that Dawn had, not entirely realizing it, sworn her utter loyalty to Tara. And Tara loved Willow; in a way that Dawn didn't fully understand, yes, but she loved her and that was what mattered.
All that mattered.
There.
She was not not there.
Dawn looked at Tara, spoke softly.
"Call Buffy. Call the others."
