"Tara!" I shouted as I came to, not realizing where I was, or what was going on. I looked up, and saw two narrowed brown eyes gazing at me. Not quite the soft blue eyes of understanding I was looking for.
I sat up, got a head rush, and laid back down, groaning softly.
Kennedy rested her hand on my forehead, then stroked back my hair slowly. It felt nice. I smiled weakly up at her.
"How long was I out?" I asked, hoping to avoid the implications of what I said.
Kennedy shook her head. "I don't know, Will. One of the girls pointed at the window a few seconds ago. They just saw you were out on the ground. Couldn't have been too long, though. What happened?" She looked truly concerned. It made me feel a little better. Though I did still feel pretty nauseous.
"Um," I started. Great way to start any sentence, I think. "I, uh, well… I saw her. I saw Tara. She – she was in the mirror, but it wasn't her. It wasn't. I just… it was evil… but goddess, it was her," I sighed. "I'm sorry. It just… she scared me."
Kennedy nodded slowly, obviously not happy with my answer. Well, it's not like I could help it. She cleared her throat. "Well, whatever it was, it's gone now."
It? It wasn't an it… oh, well, okay, maybe it was, but still. The calm, gentle hand was gone from my forehead too. Kennedy was of the jealous sort, I'd come to notice. I didn't make a habit of flirting with other people, but if she was near me when a girl so much as looked at me wrong (or, well, right), she would be glaring and fuming; I often feared she'd be the death of somebody.
I moaned softly. "Kennedy. It wasn't her, I know that. I'm sorry. That's long over, just please… help me to the bed."
Kennedy's fists unclenched at my side. It took me a moment to wince after I realized that she had been gripping me with those fists. That had hurt. I glared up at her as she just blinked at me.
"Fine," I muttered, "I'll do it myself." I started, stubbornly, to stand up, and my legs gave way beneath me. I cried out, and quickly began to fall back down to meet the floor. She was up before me, and her hands caught me under my arms, lifting me back up.
I looked down at her, and nodded, still grumpy. "Thanks," I mumbled. She nodded, narrowing her eyes again at me.
I sighed. "What!?" I said, finally fed up with it. "Is there something on my face?"
Kennedy nodded slowly.
I rolled my eyes. "Well then why are you look--," I stopped. "I do?"
She nodded again.
Sigh. "What is it?"
Kennedy spoke softly, looking frustrated. "Her."
I tilted my head, looking none too calm. "What? This isn't another one of those body switching things is it? I… I'm not really her, am I?"
Again with a head shake. She saw my faltering knees and helped me to the bed, laying my tired body down on it. What was her problem? I closed my eyes, and pulled the soft cotton blankets up over me.
"Then what?" I asked, turning on my side to look at her.
"You still love her," she said slowly, as though just sounding it out.
That hit me by surprise. Though I had never really denied it, I did feel a deep love and loss for Tara, one that probably would never go away. I nodded slowly, not wanting to lie to her.
"I do," I said softly, "and I may always, but that doesn't mean I don't love you, too. She meant a lot to me; helped me in ways I… I'll never even truly know. You know what that feels like, right?"
Her eyes narrowed again. I whined.
"I didn't mean it like that!" I protested. "I know you know what it feels like to love and care for someone. I just meant…" I sighed. "Forget it. I'm tired, you're cranky, and I'm apparently some kind of slutbag for loving my last girlfriend, who was murdered, so…whatever. Good night, Kennedy."
She blinked, glared at me, and nodded. "Right. Fine. I'll see you when you're ready to get up. Scream if you need anything."
She turned, and she left, still huffing and glaring. What had happened? I was hurt that she had left so eagerly, that she didn't even seem to care. I had fainted! That's normally not of the good. So why on earth was she so…
A small giggle arose from the corner.
"She's a fiery one, that girl," a familiar, soft voice said. But this voice had lost its luster.
I turned my head back to face the wall with the backdoor, where Kennedy had just traipsed through on her nonchalant return to practice. Tara was standing in the corner, near our lamp. But this Tara was dark. Her eyes had been sunken in, and she wore a V-necked, dark blue lacy shirt which clearly showed her bullet wound.
I winced. Tears welled in my eyes. I needed to cry. I didn't want to be seeing this, and I didn't want to be fighting with Kennedy when, more than ever, I needed to be held and taken care of. I needed to be away from here.
But here I was. Facing her.
"What do you want?" I asked weakly.
A wicked smile took the place of her dark smirk. Into the fire, here we go, I though to myself.
She stepped away from the tan, stucco wall that made up the majority of our house. She passed through the dark wooden stand that held our candles, our "lamp." She saw my tears as she stepped into the light. I noticed, as she stood in front of the candles, that the fire flickering behind her could be seen almost through her. That was odd.
Her jean-clad leg bent and knelt on the bed beside me, and she reached out, one hand in front of my face. She mimed wiping away a tear, and for a moment, I could remember Tara, kissing away my tears, using her smooth, small fingers to caress my face until I calmed myself. This Tara was cold.
This Tara was dead.
I looked up at "her," and I shook my head, tears collecting in my eyes. "Why are you here? Does it take more than a whole city imploding on you to kill you?"
Tara's smile widened a bit more, the gaunt eyes widening in delight.
"Oh, honey. You can't just get rid of me because you say it's over. I've seen you. You've tried to hard to continue what I left behind, but you know it's not working," she said, voice soft and light. That light was hiding the darkest void I've ever felt.
"Actually, I don't know what you're talking about. We've worked to continue what WE left behind, and," I sighed, "why am I bothering even trying to argue with you? You're not just incorporeal, you're insufferable."
She tsk-ed me. "Insults. What a primitive species you have become. You would have done well to just let me take over. Besides, you could have seen me again," the wide eyes fluttered, and she smiled wickedly. "Or maybe I could have used you as my right-hand witch… you're quite the wicked woman, yourself."
I closed my eyes. This explained why Kennedy had been so bitter and hostile towards me. The First was back, and it was after me. It was driving away the one familiar person I had close to me here in this foreign jungle. I couldn't afford to lose that link. Goddess, my sanity would disappear.
With a shake of my head, I turned away from the First, refusing to listen any longer. Tara's body appeared in front of me again, this time in something a bit more appealing. The dark blue top had turned into a nightgown, the color of her blood. I felt my stomach sicken.
"You will not defeat me, Willow. You tried. You failed. I am left with few options, but I will take everything that I have," her words bit into me, a small echo coming from her dark voice. She leaned down, revealing Tara's body to me as she bends in front of me, meeting my avoidant eyes. Her body was healed, I noticed. Tears stung my eyes as I tried to escape the encroaching presence. Was that her breath? The First should have no breath…
"We have power now," I said, sounding small, "We are forming an army. You can try and come back, but Buffy and… we…we'll stop you."
She chuckled, obviously amused at my big words behind my small voice. "You'll stop me? Foolish witch. You may have learned a few new tricks along your path," she trailed off, leaning closer.
Those lips were releasing hot air onto my face. The lip gloss smelled like Tara's lips… and it tasted the same as the lips were pressed into mine. There was nothing beautiful about that kiss. It was painful, it was dark, and it was empty. I sobbed into it, trying to make myself pull away, but I couldn't. It had been so long… she tasted just like her.
The First pulled away, well, first, and her dark, rich laugh swept through the small bedroom. I opened my eyes sleepily, not wanting to believe what I had just done; I didn't want to remember. As my eyes fell upon her face, I screamed. I wasn't remembering, I was seeing my worst nightmares.
The flesh on Tara's face was green and black, rotted. There may have been maggots. Her eyes were gone, only dark, sinewy holes remained where the eyeballs had once been. The smile, torn and peeling away, was wicked to the core. As my stomach wretched, I realized I had been kissing that. I hadn't kissed the Tara I loved, not the one I'd held so close. No.
I had kissed someone who was dead. Rotting away in the earth. This was a bastard reincarnation of what was once dear to me.
I was vomiting when she left. I didn't notice her disappearance. All I noticed was that I felt frighteningly cold as I heaved.