A Year And Never Okay
by
Kelsey
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss Whedon, etc, created this wonderful 'verse, and I'm so sad it's gone.
Author's Note: I started this as a product of just needing to write something. It turned into this.
Summary: It's a year after Tara's death, and Willow, Buffy and Dawn mourn her passing.
Rating: G
Willow knows instantly what day it is when she wakes up. The throbbing ache of physical discomfort in her chest tells her what she needs to know.
She wants to cry, but her body won't cooperate. So she lies prone in the bed that has long since lost Tara's scent, and stares at the ceiling.
The house is quiet when she gets up, but the faint sound of the coffeemaker lures her to the kitchen and assures her she is not alone. Buffy and Xander wouldn't leave her alone today, she knows, as much as she wishes they would.
The Slayer looks up and smiles gently when she sees Willow enter the room. "Morning, Will," she greets her.
"Morning." Willow heads for the fridge out of sheer habit, then realizes her stomach won't tolerate food today. "You should be at work."
"My job is taking care of you, today." The Slayer's voice is soft and sympathetic, but firm.
"You and Dawn can't afford for you not to go to work," Willow tries. She thinks if she brings Dawn into it, she might have a chance.
Buffy only shrugs, though. "Maybe. But I already took the time, so no go, Will."
Willow tries one last appeal, this time to her best friend's emotions. "Buffy, remember how you needed to be alone after Angel died?"
Buffy nods, and smiles sadly. "I'll leave you alone, I promise. But I'm staying here."
Willow reaches down and zips the side of her boots. "That works out well, cause I'm going out." She doesn't want to be rude to her best friend, but she feels like she's falling apart inside, and she needs to be alone with her thoughts.
Buffy rises to follow her, but she's reluctant. She knows all too well where Willow's going.
"Please, Buffy," the witch pleads. "You know where I'll be, it's light out, and I'm not completely helpless."
Buffy considers it for a minute, then reluctantly nods. "Be careful."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The grass on Tara's grave has grown lush and tall. Willow rakes her hand through it as she sits down before the headstone, and idly reads it for the eight-hundredth time.
Tara Maclay
October 16, 1980 - May 7, 2002
Best friend, beloved daughter
The other half of one woman's soul
She can feel the power emanating from the ground she sits on. Giles had warded her lover's grave before taking her back to England, aware that the witch would not be able to rest until she knew Tara's body would not be disturbed.
Now, she pulls power from the earth beneath her, calling on love and light to strengthen the spell. Her fingers tingle and the air by them crackles briefly, then flows into the ground. Willow pushes gently on the wards with her mind, then withdraws, satisfied. Giles had done his best, but there was no substitute for the raw power of a trained witch.
"Rest in peace, beloved," she murmurs.
A figure catches her eye, and she turns. The girl is too far away to identify, but she's tall, lanky and a little awkward, with long dark hair, and Willow takes a guess. "Dawn?"
Dawn comes towards her, and then slows. "I though you'd be here later," she admits.
Willow shakes her head. "Couldn't sleep."
Dawn fidgets. "I'll go," she offers. "I know you want to be alone."
The witch is glad for the teenager's perceptiveness, but now that she's here, she doesn't really want to be alone. "No, stay. It's okay, Dawnie." Her voice softens. "Tara would want you here."
Dawn smiles. "Actually, I think she'd be mad at me for skipping school," she points out.
Willow shrugs, and returns the smile. "Probably."
Dawn folds her long legs under her and settles down next to Willow. Together, they sit in silence for a long time, smiles and sadness alternately flitting across their faces.
Tears catch Willow's eye-- the ones creeping slowly down Dawn's face. Wordlessly, she opens her arms, and Dawn falls into them, curling up against the witch as best as she can. Her body shakes with noiseless sobs.
Willow just holds the teenager, neither of them pulling away even when the sobs taper off and end. Eventually, Dawn pulls her head up, and a tentative finger reaches out to trace the lettering on the headstone. Salt water flows down her cheeks again.
"Dawn?" A tentative voice calls her name from between the edge of the trees surrounding the cemetery.
Dawn raises her head. "Kit?" She looks surprised, and Willow follows her gaze to where a pretty girl about Dawn's age with dyed black hair and wearing a short black dress, heeled boots and fishnets, steps out of the trees.
"Hey." Kit looks unsure of her welcome, but Dawn gives her a sad smile, and she creeps closer before she speaks again. "I can go."
Willow shakes her head and smiles. "It's okay. You're Dawn's friend?"
Kit nods. "I followed Dawn," she says shyly. "She looked..." She hesitates.
"Horrible?" Dawn suggests with a watery smile.
Kit shifts on her feet. "Well, yeah."
"Hard day." Dawn offers no more explanation.
"I can see that." Kit looks ready to bolt.
"Hey. Come here." Dawn's voice is unexpectedly tender, and Willow watches as she holds out a hand to the other girl and waits for her to come over. "Have a seat."
Kit settles down awkwardly on the grass beside Dawn. "I don't want to intrude," she says. "I was just worried about you, cause you never cut class."
Dawn laughs. "I'm never there!"
"No, but you never cut class. I mean, you just don't show up a lot, but I've never seen you sneaking out."
Dawn shrugs. "Guess not." There's more silence, then she begins to speak slowly. "This is Willow." She rests her head briefly on the witch's shoulder as Kit looks over and nods hello. "She's my sister's best friend."
The teenager looks up at Willow for permission to continue, and the redheaded witch nods. "Tara was her lover." She gives another watery smile. "She was killed a year ago, today."
Kit looks instantly heartbroken, and Willow senses that behind the girl's tough exterior is a rather soft interior. Kind of like Tara, only instead of retreating into herself as the blond Wiccan had, the girl had built herself a set of serious armor. "Oh, god, Dawn." She reaches out and takes her hand. "What happened? I mean, if you want to tell me."
"She was shot. This little... well, there isn't a bad enough word to describe him, but this psychotic enemy of my sister's shot her, and then hit Tara by accident. Buffy lived, Tara didn't." Dawn's eyes water at the pain of the memory-- coming home to an empty house, with only the still-warm body of her surrogate older-sister lying on the ground in her bedroom.
Willow wraps her arms tighter around the teenager and buries her face in Dawn's long hair, trying to hold back her own tears. At the same time, Kit goes to hug her best friend, and they end up all holding each other tightly, the redhead and brunette sobbing heavily.
Eventually, Dawn pulls away, and Kit sits back on her heels, waiting. The teenager walks to the headstone, kisses her fingers and touches it, then murmurs her goodbye softly. "I love you, Tara." She stands on shaky legs and Kit wraps an arm around her, supporting her.
Willow looks up. "I'll see you later, Dawnie."
She nods. "Okay."
They don't speak any more as Dawn and Kit leave the grave of one of the most important people in Dawn's life, their arms still firmly wrapped around each other.
Kit stays silent, letting Dawn mull over the thoughts in her head and decide whether to speak. Halfway back to the Summers' house, she does.
"God, I loved her." There's a little sob caught up in that statement.
"Do you want to tell me about her?" Kit asks gently.
Dawn smiles through her tears, and takes a moment to try and sum up the blond witch. "Tara... she was like nobody else." She digs into her pocket and pulls out a photo. She paid $3.50 to have it double-laminated at the copy shop so that it wouldn't be ruined, because it never leaves her side. "She was beautiful and kind and gentle, and I never once heard her yell. She was so connected to nature, and she had so much love... sometimes she almost looked like she had a white light surrounding her when she looked at Willow."
"They really loved each other?" Kit asks softly.
Dawn nods. "The forever kind of love. You could see it just by looking at them. Willow... fell apart when Tara died. She's still not the same person she was before." Dawn's almost forgiven the witch, certainly forgiven her for what she did to her personally, but she still sees the darkness surrounding the redhead.
They fall silent again as the Summers' house comes into view. Kit hands back the photo, and Dawn pushes it carefully to the bottom of her jeans pocket so that it won't fall out. She digs out her keys from the other pocket, and opens the door slowly.
Buffy's voice calls out from the living room, where she's watching something on the television. "Willow?"
"It's me," Dawn responds softly. She holds the door open and motions Kit inside.
"Dawn?" Buffy stands from the couch and comes over to make sure she's alright. "Is something going on?"
Dawn shrugs. "I went to see Tara's grave," she explains.
"Oh." The Slayer notices the other girl standing behind her sister, and nods. "Hello, Kit."
"Hi, Ms. Summers," Kit responds shyly.
Buffy screws up her face. "Buffy. I'm waaay too young for last names. And why are you out of school?"
"I followed Dawn. She looked... kinda bad, and I was worried."
Buffy nods, and smiles, mentally thanking her for taking care of her baby sister. "So you're okay, Dawnie?"
She smiles, but with no humor behind it. "Physically."
Buffy holds out her arms and hugs Dawn to her, squeezing her briefly before she lets go. "I know, honey. I'll go call the school, okay? Kit, do you need excusing, too?"
The teenager nods. "Thanks... Buffy."
"Sure."
The girls are sitting on the couch, Dawn curled up in Kit's embrace, when Buffy returns. "Did you see Willow?" She asks.
Dawn nods. "She's not ever going to be okay, Buffy." She looks like she's about to start crying again.
Buffy sits down on the other side of her sister and together, she and Kit hold her tight. "No, she probably isn't. But she'll learn how to deal, and she'll be better, someday."
"But she'll never be okay."
Buffy's voice is sad. "Maybe not." She promised to show Dawn the world when the teenager had proved she could guard her back, and sometimes that means the nasty parts along with the nice. Dawn is sixteen years old, and Buffy can't shield her forever.
Kit's soft voice interjects into the silence that has fallen. "I've never lost anybody I loved," she says. Dawn looks up, and she catches her eye briefly. "My father... he died two years ago, but he was an abusive bastard. We're better off without him."
Dawn doesn't quite know how to respond, but she does her best. "I'm sorry."
Kit shakes her head and continues. "No. We really are better off. My mom... she's getting her life back together, starting to have one again. I just can't imagine what it would be like to lose someone you love. My dad... it hurt, even though I hated him. It must be really hard."
Dawn nods through her tears. "It is. Willow and Tara took care of me when Buffy was gone, and it feels like I lost a sister."
The three girls sit there in silence for long moments. Blond holding brunette holding raven-haired, all of them contemplating what death and losing people means. They aren't silent out of respect, it's more that there's nothing in their heads any of them want to give voice to, right now.
The door opens slowly, sounding almost tired, and they look up. Willow looks exhausted, her hair limp, her face streaked with tears, her body shaking slightly. Buffy pulls away from the teenagers on the couch and goes to her friend.
"Do you need anything?" She asks softly.
Willow shakes her head, and tries to smile. "Just Tara."
Buffy's face is pained. "Oh, Will, I'm sorry."
Willow nods, her expression vacant. "I think I'm just gonna take a nap, okay?" She doesn't wait for the blond to respond, and looking frustrated with her helplessness, Buffy just watches her go.
Kit pulls herself from the couch, and with her, Dawn. "You should sleep, too."
Dawn shakes her head. "I couldn't."
"I bet you could."
"I just woke up four hours ago."
Kit smiles sadly. "But you've drained yourself, emotionally. None of this will have changed when you wake up, but you'll feel a little better."
Dawn thinks about it for a moment, nods slowly and lets her friend lead her up the stairs. Buffy trails them.
When Kit pushes open the door to Dawn's room, she nods a little awkwardly, and stops. "Okay. I think it's time for me to go."
"You don't have to." Dawn's voice is soft.
She smiles. "Yeah, but I think it's time. I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Okay."
"Kit." Buffy's voice stops her, and she turns to look at the Slayer. "Thanks for bringing her home."
The teenager nods, then turns and leaves the house, closing the door softly as she goes.
Dawn just stands in the middle of her room, utterly unsure of what to do now. Buffy, recognizing the emotional jumble, slowly begins to undress her sister, talking softly as though to a wounded animal at the same time.
"Let's just get these off you, okay?" She tugs at the shirt, and obligingly, the younger Summers' lifts her arms. "Then you can get some rest." She drops a nightshirt over her sisters' slight form and starts to pull off her pants. "You'll feel better, I promise." She pulls back the covers and urges Dawn into the bed.
"Please, stay?" Dawn is holding up the corner of the covers for her, and she nods, shedding her shoes before crawling in beside her sister.
It's only fifteen minutes later when the lull of Dawn's soft, deep breathing assures Buffy that her sister is sound asleep. She rises from the bed quietly, and heads for Willow's room, pushing the door open slowly to reveal the red-haired witch curled up tightly into a ball under the covers, which are pulled to her neck despite the nice temperatures. She looks exhausted and miserable, but at least she's resting.
Closing the door behind her, the Slayer wanders downstairs, unsure of what to do now that her charges are sleeping. A photo catches her eye and she picks it up-- Willow and Dawn, both being hugged to a grinning Tara in the days immediately following her resurrection. The joy is coming off of them in waves, and the Slayer is hit by the grief that she's tried so hard to push away, all day.
Collapsing to the floor, she strokes the image of the blond witch tenderly as she bursts into tears.
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