Title: Silent Remembrances
Author: Enchanted
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy or any of its characters...if I did, I'd lock Oz and Willow up in my closet and never let them out....
A/N: Ok. Now, I don't hate Tara or anything. I just thought, What if Oz or Willow gets turned by a vampire? Then, taking it a step further, I thought, what if Tara gets turned and Willow starts to feel again for Oz? It's gets more complicated than this...don't worry.
Silent Remembrances
Maybe it was fate. Maybe I was meant to have all my loves disappear or die. If so, I'm fated to live a pretty loveless life.
Tara was turned and slain. Turned by some moronic vampire that decided to randomly chow down on my girlfriend. I remember seeing her appear at my door, beautiful as ever, her blonde hair spread on her shoulders, her eyes shining with malice. But, God, then she made that face that vampires make, you know the one with the fangs protruding and the face all wrinkled up? The truth hit me as hard as a sledgehammer banging down on my skull, and my world came crashing down on me. In that one instant, before I slammed the door on her, my soul wept. As the door shut in her face, I collapsed on the floor, sobbing out my anguish. Why Tara? Why couldn't it have been anyone else?
I realized what had to happen before anything else could. Picking up the phone, my trembling fingers pressed speed dial, and as if she knew this had happened, she picked up on the first ring.
"Hello?" her perpetually cheery voice chirped on the other end.
"B-Buffy..." I choked on my sobs.
"Willow?" she recognized my voice instantly, "Willow, what's wrong? Tell me."
"It's..." I almost couldn't say her name. "It's Tara. She's---turned."
"Turned? Did you guys screw up doing a spell or something? What did she turn into? Do you need me over to help research and turn her back?" she sounded relieved, as if it had been a false scare.
"No! Buffy, she's turned!"
It took her a few seconds to understand. Then, the jagged breath on the other end told me that she comprehended the meaning of my words. I suspect tears fell, but not as fast or as hard as mine did. "Oh my God. Willow, do you need me to...you know?"
I did know. "No. I can do it. Just give me the pointiest stake you can find so I can get it done quicker." I knew that pointiness doesn't matter when it comes to killing vampires, you stab them through the heart with something sharp made of wood, then---poof---they're dust. "I just want her to rest in peace." Looking back on it now, I realize how objective I sounded, not like I was grieving, which I already was. After all, she was technically dead.
When I met Buffy by the graveyard, and she handed me a stake, which was extra pointy, I don't think that even then I knew what I was doing. She gave me the most reassuring hug she could muster at the time. "You sure you wanna do this?"
I nodded. If Tara had to be slain, it would be me.
"Ok. I'm right behind you. If there's any trouble, just shout."
Walking down an empty street at 1:00 in the morning put a lot of things in perspective for me. I was on the brink of a thought that was so revolutionary to me, so naturally, at that moment, I was pushed roughly from behind.
"Willow," the cold voice greeted me.
"Tara." Her breath barely grazed my skin. I felt her lips touch the side of my neck. I knew what was going to happen next.
I turned to face her, which surprised her. I don't blame her, usually the victims of vampires beg or fight.
Maybe vampires have a tiny bit of human in them. If that's so, then I know what I did was the right thing.
I raised my left hand to run it through her blonde hair one last time. "Tara," I let a tear slip out. "I love you."
It took her off guard when I kissed her long enough for me to work my right hand to draw out the stake, which I had concealed underneath my bulky coat.
Then, I pushed her away and drove the stake through her unbeating heart. I remember the
expression of surprise and of pain. It remains etched in my memory, the disbelief and distress on her face. Then, she was gone.
I remember dropping the stake and falling, my tears falling, and scrambling around on all fours, trying to gather up the dust. I think I was trying to accumulate as much of her together as I could before Buffy came and enfolded me in her arms.
"Willow, I'm so sorry," she kept whispering, and I remember her tears mingling with mine.
After that, there's nothing. Just a big ol' blank in my memory. Which is kind of odd, because I'm not that forgetful.
Buffy says that I was hysterical. I pushed her away and kept trying to sweep up what remained of Tara, which was being blown away in the breeze. Buffy had to slap me several times to calm me down. After I collapsed to the ground, in a state of shock, she picked me up effortlessly in her arms, and carried me back to my room.
I had to stay in bed for two days, moaning and ranting and raving all the while about 'fate' and 'destiny'.
When I finally woke up, Buffy, Xander, Anya, and Dawn were congregated around the sides of my bed. The first thought that flashed across my mind was, 'There's one missing. Where's Tara?' It was then that I understood what I had done. And that, in my opinion, was scarier than being hysterical.
I was so unbelievably angry. I hated myself, hated Spike for being a vampire, hated Buffy for having a vampire lover in the past, hated Xander for having Anya and Anya for having Xander, and I hated Dawn...just because. I didn't speak to anyone for a week, suffering in my silence. It seemed like a month before I smiled, and even longer before I laughed.
But, slowly, I acknowledged the fact of Tara's death. I started laughing more, which was a relief for everyone, because I haven't gone a week without laughing since the day I was born.
One day, out of the blue, I went to get my hair cut. I had allowed it to grow too long during the past few weeks, and it was getting a little bit unruly. Getting haircuts are kind of neat, because you could start all over with your hair, and if you didn't like it, you could always grow it out, you know? As the scissors snipped away the red locks to my chin, I looked down at the strands that were gathering around my chair. And I thought, 'Goodbye, Tara.' That was weird, cause I don't usually say my farewells to past lovers while getting my hair cut.
I think that's when I accepted it. I accepted the fact that Tara was dead, and that she would never come back. I comforted myself with the thought that she was happy, wherever she was. I knew it was in some sort of heaven, because she deserved to be there and to be happy.
That was the week I went to see her grave. The grave was a waste of time, really, because it was only a tombstone that had her name and date of birth and death. Since there was no body, there was no grave to dig. Buffy sprinkled the tombstone with the remaining dust that she could salvage, a handful that she had hurriedly stuffed in her pocket before she carried me back to my room. The only thing that mattered was one part of the inscription.
'She loved until the very end..'
~*~
"Hey, how's Willow doing?" Xander asked, taking a sip of the hot chocolate Anya handed him, and then spitting it all over the table.
"Good job, Xander!" Anya almost shouted as she swooped up some napkins and hurriedly laid them down to soak up the mess.
"The chocolate was hot! Are you trying to kill me?! I won't be able to taste anything for the next few days."
Choosing to ignore this, Buffy answered his former question. "She's doing ok for a girl who had to slay her own girlfriend."
"You know, that would really suck."
This statement got glares.
"Hey!" Xander was quick to defend himself. "I'm just saying that if one of my friends got their blood sucked by a vampire and I had to kill them, I'd be a little stricken too." As if to prove this, he put one arm around Anya, who looked a little smug. "You know," he added as an afterthought, "if it were up to me, I just don't know what I would do."
"Yeah, but Willow was strong. It was almost like she wasn't feeling anything throughout the whole ordeal. If it were..." Buffy stopped herself from saying the name.
"If it were Oz," Xander finished.
"That's different," Anya cut in. "The love was different between the two of them. Willow and Oz loved with something more powerful. He was almost obsessed with her."
The three of them mulled over this until Xander broke the silence that descended upon them suddenly. "So, you think Will's gonna be up for a little get-together tommorow night? Just me and the rest of the Scoobies. And you of course," Xander hastily added that part on.
"I'll ask, but don't expect anything," Buffy told him. "Get-togethers are fun."
"Tons," Anya chirped.
"Willow's excluded herself from any fun, remember?"
"In that case, tell her it'll be a bore."
~*~
It's been more than a month now. I lay curled up in my bed, letting the red of my hair blend with the blue pillowcases. It hurts. Thinking of him hurts when it shouldn't.
I got over him. At least, I think I did. Or maybe meeting Tara hid that. Maybe when I met her, she covered the wound to help me temporarily forget all that pain. Now that she's gone, is it all back? I don't think I could live with that thought. That Tara was conveniently just there to replace Oz.
No. She couldn't be. I did love her. I did!
It must have been because whenever she was around, I could forget about Oz, push him into the darkest corners of my mind, like dirt hastily swept underneath a rug. But sooner or later, the dirt is going to accumulate underneath that rug until it's spilling out of the corners.
I realize that now. Oz was always there, slouching around in the back of my mind, waiting for Tara to go before he could make a reappearance in my thoughts and in my heart. He was never really gone, and I was never really truly over him.
That belittles Tara, I know, but I loved her too. Just not as much as I loved him.
I wonder what he's doing now? And I wonder where he is, and if he's found someone else.
Oz. Ow. Oz. Ow.
This is going to keep going, isn't it? Because I can't really stop my mind from drifting to him. I wonder if he's still alive. And I know he is, because I would have known somehow. I would have eventually accepted it, like I had accepted Tara's death. Plus, I would be more at peace, instead of curled up in my bed at 3:00 in the afternoon.
Where is he? What's he doing? Is he in love? The last question particularly bothers me and it bothers me that it bothers me.
There's a knock on my bedroom door and I struggle to sit up. A glance in the mirror confirms what I fear---red eyes and bad bed hair. Oh well. It's probably Buffy, and she's been through much more than me looking like hell. "Come in," I call.
"Hey, Willow. How are you?" Buffy greets me, her green eyes looking me over. I know she doesn't approve of what she sees, but she hides it well. I'm starting to get worried about her hiding stuff, actually. I think there's something going on between her and Spike, but she hasn't told me. I can sense it, though. It's like trying to hide a really tall man in a crowd of midgets, or something like that.
"I'm ok." I figure if she can hide stuff, I can too, right?
"Good. Um, listen, Xander's having a little get-together tomorrow night. He's invited you."
"Oh. I'm vaguely pleased that he remembered me."
"Willow," she says reprovingly.
"I know, I know. I'll back off, Miss Buffy."
"Can you go?" she sounds eager. I might as well go to please her. But...I don't know. I'd rather be at home, sleeping, watching TV and thinking of Oz. Quickly, in my mind, I delete that last part. Still...
"It'll be fun," Buffy says, cajoling.
Wrong word. If there's anything I don't deserve, it's fun. I deserve to stay at home and be miserable for the rest of my life. "Sorry, I've got...stuff to do."
"What do you have to do on a Saturday, Willow?" her voice becomes impatient. Great. Now I've got my best friend annoyed at me.
"Stuff! I have plenty of stuff!" I reply indignantly.
"Will, I just want you to get out of this room for once," Buffy defends herself, which I know is a simple reaction.
"Oh yeah? Well, I get out of this room enough, thank you!" I shouted, something I never intended to do.
"I'm sorry! God!" she stood up from the bed and flounced out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
I stare at the door. I'm sorry too, Buff. I don't know what's wrong with me. Maybe I need the pain. I don't know. And that's odd of me.
Oz. Ow. Oz. Ow. Oz...
Am I crazy? I think I'm actually enjoying the pain. It makes me feel a little light headed and more than a little giddy.
...I like you giddy...always have...
Oz's voice rang in my ears and I nearly jumped up in shock. It was almost like he was right next to me.
God, I miss him.
~*~
Author: Enchanted
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy or any of its characters...if I did, I'd lock Oz and Willow up in my closet and never let them out....
A/N: Ok. Now, I don't hate Tara or anything. I just thought, What if Oz or Willow gets turned by a vampire? Then, taking it a step further, I thought, what if Tara gets turned and Willow starts to feel again for Oz? It's gets more complicated than this...don't worry.
Silent Remembrances
Maybe it was fate. Maybe I was meant to have all my loves disappear or die. If so, I'm fated to live a pretty loveless life.
Tara was turned and slain. Turned by some moronic vampire that decided to randomly chow down on my girlfriend. I remember seeing her appear at my door, beautiful as ever, her blonde hair spread on her shoulders, her eyes shining with malice. But, God, then she made that face that vampires make, you know the one with the fangs protruding and the face all wrinkled up? The truth hit me as hard as a sledgehammer banging down on my skull, and my world came crashing down on me. In that one instant, before I slammed the door on her, my soul wept. As the door shut in her face, I collapsed on the floor, sobbing out my anguish. Why Tara? Why couldn't it have been anyone else?
I realized what had to happen before anything else could. Picking up the phone, my trembling fingers pressed speed dial, and as if she knew this had happened, she picked up on the first ring.
"Hello?" her perpetually cheery voice chirped on the other end.
"B-Buffy..." I choked on my sobs.
"Willow?" she recognized my voice instantly, "Willow, what's wrong? Tell me."
"It's..." I almost couldn't say her name. "It's Tara. She's---turned."
"Turned? Did you guys screw up doing a spell or something? What did she turn into? Do you need me over to help research and turn her back?" she sounded relieved, as if it had been a false scare.
"No! Buffy, she's turned!"
It took her a few seconds to understand. Then, the jagged breath on the other end told me that she comprehended the meaning of my words. I suspect tears fell, but not as fast or as hard as mine did. "Oh my God. Willow, do you need me to...you know?"
I did know. "No. I can do it. Just give me the pointiest stake you can find so I can get it done quicker." I knew that pointiness doesn't matter when it comes to killing vampires, you stab them through the heart with something sharp made of wood, then---poof---they're dust. "I just want her to rest in peace." Looking back on it now, I realize how objective I sounded, not like I was grieving, which I already was. After all, she was technically dead.
When I met Buffy by the graveyard, and she handed me a stake, which was extra pointy, I don't think that even then I knew what I was doing. She gave me the most reassuring hug she could muster at the time. "You sure you wanna do this?"
I nodded. If Tara had to be slain, it would be me.
"Ok. I'm right behind you. If there's any trouble, just shout."
Walking down an empty street at 1:00 in the morning put a lot of things in perspective for me. I was on the brink of a thought that was so revolutionary to me, so naturally, at that moment, I was pushed roughly from behind.
"Willow," the cold voice greeted me.
"Tara." Her breath barely grazed my skin. I felt her lips touch the side of my neck. I knew what was going to happen next.
I turned to face her, which surprised her. I don't blame her, usually the victims of vampires beg or fight.
Maybe vampires have a tiny bit of human in them. If that's so, then I know what I did was the right thing.
I raised my left hand to run it through her blonde hair one last time. "Tara," I let a tear slip out. "I love you."
It took her off guard when I kissed her long enough for me to work my right hand to draw out the stake, which I had concealed underneath my bulky coat.
Then, I pushed her away and drove the stake through her unbeating heart. I remember the
expression of surprise and of pain. It remains etched in my memory, the disbelief and distress on her face. Then, she was gone.
I remember dropping the stake and falling, my tears falling, and scrambling around on all fours, trying to gather up the dust. I think I was trying to accumulate as much of her together as I could before Buffy came and enfolded me in her arms.
"Willow, I'm so sorry," she kept whispering, and I remember her tears mingling with mine.
After that, there's nothing. Just a big ol' blank in my memory. Which is kind of odd, because I'm not that forgetful.
Buffy says that I was hysterical. I pushed her away and kept trying to sweep up what remained of Tara, which was being blown away in the breeze. Buffy had to slap me several times to calm me down. After I collapsed to the ground, in a state of shock, she picked me up effortlessly in her arms, and carried me back to my room.
I had to stay in bed for two days, moaning and ranting and raving all the while about 'fate' and 'destiny'.
When I finally woke up, Buffy, Xander, Anya, and Dawn were congregated around the sides of my bed. The first thought that flashed across my mind was, 'There's one missing. Where's Tara?' It was then that I understood what I had done. And that, in my opinion, was scarier than being hysterical.
I was so unbelievably angry. I hated myself, hated Spike for being a vampire, hated Buffy for having a vampire lover in the past, hated Xander for having Anya and Anya for having Xander, and I hated Dawn...just because. I didn't speak to anyone for a week, suffering in my silence. It seemed like a month before I smiled, and even longer before I laughed.
But, slowly, I acknowledged the fact of Tara's death. I started laughing more, which was a relief for everyone, because I haven't gone a week without laughing since the day I was born.
One day, out of the blue, I went to get my hair cut. I had allowed it to grow too long during the past few weeks, and it was getting a little bit unruly. Getting haircuts are kind of neat, because you could start all over with your hair, and if you didn't like it, you could always grow it out, you know? As the scissors snipped away the red locks to my chin, I looked down at the strands that were gathering around my chair. And I thought, 'Goodbye, Tara.' That was weird, cause I don't usually say my farewells to past lovers while getting my hair cut.
I think that's when I accepted it. I accepted the fact that Tara was dead, and that she would never come back. I comforted myself with the thought that she was happy, wherever she was. I knew it was in some sort of heaven, because she deserved to be there and to be happy.
That was the week I went to see her grave. The grave was a waste of time, really, because it was only a tombstone that had her name and date of birth and death. Since there was no body, there was no grave to dig. Buffy sprinkled the tombstone with the remaining dust that she could salvage, a handful that she had hurriedly stuffed in her pocket before she carried me back to my room. The only thing that mattered was one part of the inscription.
'She loved until the very end..'
~*~
"Hey, how's Willow doing?" Xander asked, taking a sip of the hot chocolate Anya handed him, and then spitting it all over the table.
"Good job, Xander!" Anya almost shouted as she swooped up some napkins and hurriedly laid them down to soak up the mess.
"The chocolate was hot! Are you trying to kill me?! I won't be able to taste anything for the next few days."
Choosing to ignore this, Buffy answered his former question. "She's doing ok for a girl who had to slay her own girlfriend."
"You know, that would really suck."
This statement got glares.
"Hey!" Xander was quick to defend himself. "I'm just saying that if one of my friends got their blood sucked by a vampire and I had to kill them, I'd be a little stricken too." As if to prove this, he put one arm around Anya, who looked a little smug. "You know," he added as an afterthought, "if it were up to me, I just don't know what I would do."
"Yeah, but Willow was strong. It was almost like she wasn't feeling anything throughout the whole ordeal. If it were..." Buffy stopped herself from saying the name.
"If it were Oz," Xander finished.
"That's different," Anya cut in. "The love was different between the two of them. Willow and Oz loved with something more powerful. He was almost obsessed with her."
The three of them mulled over this until Xander broke the silence that descended upon them suddenly. "So, you think Will's gonna be up for a little get-together tommorow night? Just me and the rest of the Scoobies. And you of course," Xander hastily added that part on.
"I'll ask, but don't expect anything," Buffy told him. "Get-togethers are fun."
"Tons," Anya chirped.
"Willow's excluded herself from any fun, remember?"
"In that case, tell her it'll be a bore."
~*~
It's been more than a month now. I lay curled up in my bed, letting the red of my hair blend with the blue pillowcases. It hurts. Thinking of him hurts when it shouldn't.
I got over him. At least, I think I did. Or maybe meeting Tara hid that. Maybe when I met her, she covered the wound to help me temporarily forget all that pain. Now that she's gone, is it all back? I don't think I could live with that thought. That Tara was conveniently just there to replace Oz.
No. She couldn't be. I did love her. I did!
It must have been because whenever she was around, I could forget about Oz, push him into the darkest corners of my mind, like dirt hastily swept underneath a rug. But sooner or later, the dirt is going to accumulate underneath that rug until it's spilling out of the corners.
I realize that now. Oz was always there, slouching around in the back of my mind, waiting for Tara to go before he could make a reappearance in my thoughts and in my heart. He was never really gone, and I was never really truly over him.
That belittles Tara, I know, but I loved her too. Just not as much as I loved him.
I wonder what he's doing now? And I wonder where he is, and if he's found someone else.
Oz. Ow. Oz. Ow.
This is going to keep going, isn't it? Because I can't really stop my mind from drifting to him. I wonder if he's still alive. And I know he is, because I would have known somehow. I would have eventually accepted it, like I had accepted Tara's death. Plus, I would be more at peace, instead of curled up in my bed at 3:00 in the afternoon.
Where is he? What's he doing? Is he in love? The last question particularly bothers me and it bothers me that it bothers me.
There's a knock on my bedroom door and I struggle to sit up. A glance in the mirror confirms what I fear---red eyes and bad bed hair. Oh well. It's probably Buffy, and she's been through much more than me looking like hell. "Come in," I call.
"Hey, Willow. How are you?" Buffy greets me, her green eyes looking me over. I know she doesn't approve of what she sees, but she hides it well. I'm starting to get worried about her hiding stuff, actually. I think there's something going on between her and Spike, but she hasn't told me. I can sense it, though. It's like trying to hide a really tall man in a crowd of midgets, or something like that.
"I'm ok." I figure if she can hide stuff, I can too, right?
"Good. Um, listen, Xander's having a little get-together tomorrow night. He's invited you."
"Oh. I'm vaguely pleased that he remembered me."
"Willow," she says reprovingly.
"I know, I know. I'll back off, Miss Buffy."
"Can you go?" she sounds eager. I might as well go to please her. But...I don't know. I'd rather be at home, sleeping, watching TV and thinking of Oz. Quickly, in my mind, I delete that last part. Still...
"It'll be fun," Buffy says, cajoling.
Wrong word. If there's anything I don't deserve, it's fun. I deserve to stay at home and be miserable for the rest of my life. "Sorry, I've got...stuff to do."
"What do you have to do on a Saturday, Willow?" her voice becomes impatient. Great. Now I've got my best friend annoyed at me.
"Stuff! I have plenty of stuff!" I reply indignantly.
"Will, I just want you to get out of this room for once," Buffy defends herself, which I know is a simple reaction.
"Oh yeah? Well, I get out of this room enough, thank you!" I shouted, something I never intended to do.
"I'm sorry! God!" she stood up from the bed and flounced out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
I stare at the door. I'm sorry too, Buff. I don't know what's wrong with me. Maybe I need the pain. I don't know. And that's odd of me.
Oz. Ow. Oz. Ow. Oz...
Am I crazy? I think I'm actually enjoying the pain. It makes me feel a little light headed and more than a little giddy.
...I like you giddy...always have...
Oz's voice rang in my ears and I nearly jumped up in shock. It was almost like he was right next to me.
God, I miss him.
~*~
