Again, thanks for all the wonderful feedback. It all helps. J
Willow drifted slowly out of sleep. The familiar smell of Tara's room surrounded her and she knew without looking that she was still there. Andeven bettershe was naked with the sheet twisted around her legs and that wonderful, languid feeling that only hours of sex with Tara could impart. But there was no one in the bed with her, which was not so better. The clock read 3:13, so she hadn't been asleep long. Maybe a half hour. But why was Tara up and not snuggled around her?
"Mmmm, where's my Tare Bear?" The redhead stretched and yawned, rising to her knees to scan the room. She felt amazing. Tired and dizzy and maybe even a little queasy, but totally, completely amazing. The blonde sat cross-legged on the floor poring over a book in her lap. She had clothes on, which was a big disappointment. She looked up at the sound of Willow's voice and froze, her eyes widening, mouth dropping open as blue eyes roamed over the redhead's exposed torso. Tara swallowed once and looked away, ducking her head shyly, a crimson blush extending all the way to the tips of her ears.
"Ium, uh, T-Tare Bear?" she squeaked and turned a page in the tome, stealing another quick glance at Willow. She would have to remember that. All of the private jokes and names between them that weren't anymore.
"Yeah, kind of a pet" Willow trailed off with a concerned frown and moved toward the blonde. "name is everything okay?"
"Oh yeah!" Tara nodded emphatically, her eyes falling on the redhead before closing slowly. "I, um," she swallowed and ran a shaky hand through her hair. "It's justyou know," the blonde continued to struggle and Willow found herself growing anxious. Had Tara found something? Had she seen something in Willow's aura too terrible to speak of? "I mean" she sucked in an enormous whimpering breath and opened her eyes. "N-naked, um Willow?" Blue eyes drifted down before darting away again guiltily and the redhead resisted the urge to laugh, but she couldn't suppress the enormous grin. Tara was so adorablyadorable. How was it possible that this woman could step so effortlessly between sultry vixen and total cute-itude? "Like g-gym classy-you know?" she asked with a pleading look in her eyes as if she was begging for a reprieve from further explanation. It took the redhead only a moment to connect the dots. The terror of changing for gym, surrounded by all those scantily clad girls, afraid to look. Afraid they'd catch you looking and humiliate you. Again.
"Well, in this gym class you can stare as much as you want Ms. Maclay, but, um, I think I'm being denied the all-important reciprocal stare-iness by too many clothes on you," Willow replied fingering the blonde's tank top suggestively.
"Ohum," blue eyes stared back at her wide and blinking and she wasn't sure it was possible, but Tara somehow managed to turn an even deeper shade of red. "Naked..and um..re-s-search?"
"Yeah, you're probably right," she sighed and moved to sit behind the blonde, wrapping her arms around soft curves, her legs extended to rest under bent knees. "Could get kind of," she paused to kiss the soft skin behind one ear and felt Tara tense and gasp. "Distracting."
A cool hand fell from the page onto the redhead's exposed thigh and the blonde jumped in her arms. "Oh, s-sorry I." Tara gave up on whatever she was trying to say with a loud sigh and Willow smiled into the smooth skin of an exposed shoulder.
"Watcha looking for?" she asked playfully, letting her eyes drop to the page below.
Another long sigh. "It's a, um, a"
"Divination spell," Willow finished for her, all of the levity and teasing gone from her voice. She knew this spell. Intimately. It stood out like a bookmark in her life. She had cast it in secret to map Glory and Tara's essences. To undo what the hell god had done to the beautiful girl in her arms. And in casting it she had seen into some of the torment Glory had inflicted on Tara. Terrible things. Unspeakable things that they had never managed to discuss afterward. And that knowledge had been one of the reasons for her slip into dark magic. Because she would do anything to protect the blonde from more harm. "I know this spell," she finished quietly and kissed a bare shoulder, her expression growing stern. A wall of vertigo hit her with force and she closed her eyes, letting it roll over her in nauseating waves. Letting her head drop against the strong back before her.
"I thought we c-could use it to understand what's happeningwith your m-magic and the, um, the Heart."
She didn't notice, Willow thought with a grateful sigh. She didn't want to worry Tara any more than she had to. Recovering her precarious sense of balance she moved her lips over exposed skin letting the familiar smell right the world.
"Willow?" Right. The divination spell. It was too powerful. She had almost lost herself in it in her search for Tara. It was too dangerous. And casting with Tara wasIn a terrible rush of images she remembered with humiliation and overwhelming self-loathing the last two times she had cast with the blonde. The resurrection and the spell to make Buffy's hitchiker' tangible. Her impatience and growing arrogance had made her unwilling to wait for the spell to build. She cringed as she remembered reaching out to the dark magic, taking the terrible short cut offered and breaking her precious connection with Tara. It was inconceivable to her now and it remained simply unforgivable. The memory of it left her more ashamed than any of her actions after Tara's death. Those terrible things' had been a reaction to tragic events, the results of grief and furious agony. Severing her connection to Tara had been a willful and selfish act of betrayal. And in a moment of sudden clarity she realized here with Tara in her arms that it had been the darkest magic imaginable.
Ruth had told her she would find the root of her darkness in the small things. In the excuses and rationalizations. In everyday acts. Because she would always find a reason. There would always be a need so greatespecially on the Hellmouth.
"I don't think Tar, it'sit's too dangerous," she murmured into bare skin and hugged the blonde tighter.
Warm fingers caressed her own for a moment and then withdrew slowly as the blonde removed the book from her lap to turn in Willow's arms. "But you said we'd c-cast it before," she said with obvious confusion.
She reached out to trace the perfect curve of lips to steady herself. "I said I knew the spell." She sighed and looked away from the blue. "I cast it without you."
The look of astonishment on Tara's face changed quickly to one of confused concern. "But wh-why?" she trailed off and searched green eyes for an answer.
"Well, the why wasterrible things," she repeated and the muscles in her jaw clenched uncomfortably. "And the how," she shook her head sadly. "I don't even knowI mean, probably just total desperation and that trademark Willow Rosenburg hard-headedness I guess?" She winced at the memory of the terror that had gripped her when she had momentarily lost her way, lost her connection to the real. It wasn't the knowledge that she would die that had finally brought her back, it was the horror of knowing that Tara would be trapped with Glory forever. "I know it was crazy"
"Not crazyimpossible was more the w-word I was looking for," Tara replied shaking her head in amazement and more than a little anger. "How did you get b-back?"
Without me as your anchor were the unspoken words in the blonde's question and Willow winced.
"I, um, modified Ms. Calendar's curse so it was timed to certain biological triggers and used an Orb of Thessela as a kind of spiritual magnet to make sure"
"What?" Tara was clearly horrified by the admission.
"I know it was stupid, but"
"Willow, you could have been trapped in that orb forever orw-worse."
Willow nodded her assent and closed her eyes. She had been so proud of her ingenuity at the time. Hours and hours of research and clandestine experimentation. And she had been so terribly desperate. "I know Tara," she kept her voice as calm and soft as possible, reaching out to take the blonde's hands in her own. "And believe me, I would never, ever do that now. It was just" How could she explain the events that had led to her reckless behavior?
Blue eyes searched her own for long moments and then closed slowly. "I know you wouldn'tnow." She shook her head slowly and a line formed between the perfect arches of pale eyebrows. "I j-justI wanted to sh-show you about magicthe right w-way you know? The good parts and the really b-bad, but"
"It's not your fault Tara," she interjected gently and squeezed the blonde's hands in her own. "Really." The blonde retreated behind her hair, her thumb slowly circling the back of Willow's hand.
"Sweetie we need to do this." Blue eyes met her own again and Willow's forehead tightened in response. How could she explain? Because she knew that as much control as she now had over her magic, the moment she sensed Tara was in danger she would stop at nothing to save her. She would protect her love at any cost. "Because it's h-hurting youthe Heart's s-spum, magic."
Gentle fingers moved over her scalp and Willow released a deep sigh. How did Tara know about the pain? She allowed herself a small smile at the thought of the two of them moving along separate paths to protect each other. And she knew now how much more painful it was to watch the one you love suffer. The idea of the blonde feeling the slightest pain or discomfort made her own seem insignificant. She squeezed Tara's hand gently and stared directly into blue eyes.
"Okay, but if anything and I mean anything of the dark variety happens when we're in thereor out there,,," she mused out loud trying to decide which description was more accurate.
"It won't," Tara said flatly a gentle smile playing on her lips. "I trust you Willow. I know you'd never hurt me."
Willow felt her throat constrict and swallowed hard before looking away from the blue gaze. There was so much she needed to tell her. So much that she needed to confess.
"I trust you." She heard Tara say again and felt her stomach turn over with a sudden realization. This Tara could trust the Willow she was now with everything. She would die before she would allow anything to happen to her. And wasn't what this was all about? A second chance?
For Buffy, she reminded herself. But maybe she could build her own second chance around it. In a way she already was. Maybe. But one way or another, she would have these brand new moments with Tara forever. If the Slayer's second chance didn't change everything.
Buffy.
"Buffy?"
Willow frowned at her slip. After years of struggle she had finally managed to get her habit of speaking her thoughts aloud under control, but not tonight. Not with Tara. It was quite possible that she hadn't said it out loud at all.
"Yeah, it's just that it's her second chance so I'm probably going back to a future where Angel's all human or she's still dead orwho knows?" she stopped her angry rant abruptly. That had been a major slip. Tara's forehead was now furrowed with concern and surprise. "Sorry. Too much information"
The blonde shook her head slowly and appraised her with concern and obvious confusion. "No, it's okay I justI mean," she stopped to collect her thoughts and frowned in concentration. "You know, she's like your heroand you're b-best friends."
"Well, things have kind of changed a lot and Buffywell, she most definitely haschanged that is. She'sI mean we're." And she felt guilty suddenly for even considering speaking about her best friend this way. Buffy had been through so much. And so much of it was because of her.
"Don't you t-trust her to do the right thingwith her s-second chance?"
Willow sat staring into blue eyes for what seemed like long minutes, but was probably only a few short seconds. No one had asked her if she trusted Buffy and the thought had never crossed her mind. Not once. Her focus and everyone else's had been on her own recovery. On regaining control of herself and the trust of her friends. She had never considered how she felt about them. Buffy had been so self-involved and distant for so long she had begun to take it for granted. She had forgotten about the friend this Willow had known. The friend and partner who still took her on patrol in this now. Who still went out for mochas and sat up trading stories about Riley and Oz andeverything. She had trusted this Buffy with her life, with the world. But now.
"I don't know, but I do know I trust you Tara," she finally responded looking up to meet her eyes again. "More than I trust myself."
A lop-sided grin slowly spread over perfect pale features and Tara ducked her head shyly, embarrassed by the candid admission. Willow leaned across the small space between them and stole a quick kiss that brought another deep blush to the blonde's face.
"So, um, I'll g-get the, uh, the herbs and you" Tara glanced at the redhead's chest before quickly looking away. "M-maybe you should, ah, get d-d-drshould put some c-clothes on?"
"No, I'm fine, really." Willow responded playfully with a smug smile. "Comfy even." Tara squirmed under her gaze and seemed to find the bookshelf to her left extremely interesting.
"But that c-could get kinda distracting."
"What?" She asked with exaggerated innocence.
The blonde's head tilted to the side, a look of total exasperation clouding her features. "Willow I know you're used to th-this, but"
"Sorry Tar. I'll get dressed if you want." She smoothed blonde hair behind one ear to soothe her and traced Tara's jaw lightly. "It's just been my experienceand yours by the way that we're just going to end up this way anyway. After the spell. Cause you know, me and you and all that magical sexy energy floating around leads to not so many clothes on us. So this is really just me being all efficient." She swallowed hard at the memory of their post-spell rituals'. "Really."
Blue eyes studied her with more than a little doubt and then a mischievous grin crossed the blonde's features. In one motion she pulled the tank top over her head and rose to remove her underwear in a long, seductive slide of hands over thighs.
"Skyclad it is then," the blonde said with a smirk and turned to retrieve the necessary ingredients.
Willow sat speechless watching Tara search through drawers and bags for the herbs and materials they would need. Her hair wasn't as long as the Tara Willow held in her memory and the blonde tresses still held the evidence of her bleach experiment months before. She looked so young and beautiful kneeling naked before her desk. This level of comfort and intimacy had taken many months in their previous relationship and by then Tara was a different person. This was a new Tara, innocent and surprisingly confident and watching her Willow felt suddenly shy, her face burning with heat. As the blonde turned and obviously fought the urge to cover herself with her arms, Willow averted her eyes and swallowed hard. Gym class indeed.
When the circle had been drawn and the herbs mixed, the two sat cross-legged nervously avoiding each other's eyes. She had expected this to be so easy and familiar, but it wasn't. And sitting there facing her with all of that naked skin between them she wasn't sure she would be able to control her desire long enough to complete the spell.
Tara gently took the redhead's hands in her own and Willow panicked, worried that she would never remember the words of the spell. Or worse, that she would remember her own hacked together version. Her eyes drifted to blue and she felt a familiar calm descend. This was so right. All of it. The incredible sexual tension that they had secretly joked about as the secret ingredient' in their particularly powerful brand of magic, the hands clasped together, and the two of them in a circle. Together. The blonde shyly anointed her with oil and offered the bowl to the redhead to return the gesture. She smiled and dipped her thumb into the warm liquid. Tara knew the incantation, which meant she did too. There was no need to worry.
Tara knows. Let go and let her lead
Their eyes locked and she felt the familiar surge as the blonde reached out to her, making the connection. Tara's energy flowed into her and through her and she felt herself speaking the words of the incantation, going through the ritual motions from far away. All that really mattered was Tara. And the building energy around them so familiar and strong andkinda hot. She smiled and felt as much as saw an answering grin on the blonde's face.
So right
And suddenly the physical was justgone. Willow was no longer in the room. Moving through layers of energy, she expanded up and out to the place Tara and the text would describe as the Nether Realms, but her scientifically inclined mind always interpreted as some kind of higher dimensional space.
Okay, stop it Rosenburg! Stop with the analyzing and justdo the Tara thing. She would have smiled at herself if she had a face to smile with.
Letting go, she began to explore the world around her. An endless amorphous field full of shifting energies that disappeared and reformed in the shape of familiar objects. Her home, the Summers' house, a classroom at UC Sunnydale. She felt a presence beside her and turned to find Tara smiling gently. It was like turning in a dream to search for that presence that was always there just out of sight. And it was Tara of course. She knew the expression intimately. It was patience and trust andmore than a little arousal. There would be no losing herself in this divination. She had every reason to go back.
But now she was research girl with a job to do, so she centered herself carefully and began to study the space. It was tricky here to remember who you were, much less what you were doing. Like in a dream, intent tended to shift with the scenery. It took incredible focus and Willow slowly found hers and began to travel, trying to map out the place. Travel here was a useless term. You imagined yourself in a place and concentrated and the place or the person were brought to you. But she needed to know about the space itself so she concentrated on travelling as far as possible in a straight line.
She felt the rush and blue of movement, saw images rush past and felt Tara's surprise and fear as the distance between them grew. With great effort, she soothed her through the connection they still shared and felt the familiar pang of desire.
And then in a rush she was there, approaching Tara fast from behind. Which confirmed at least one of her theories. That this was a self-contained universe. A bubble. But for the real answers she needed to go deeper. Farther. She turned to Tara and let her feel her intention. The blonde's gentle concern washed over her and she felt again the strong tug of want.
Okay, finish this so you can get back and get to the snuggles already!
Willow began a monotonous chant and kept the Heart in her mind's eye. Focusing on its energy, the stretch and feel of the magic that had brought them here. It swept her up in terrifying rush of energies. Because there were more than one and she could feel her own and the device's and something else. Something familiar
Another earthquake' tore through her and she watched horrified as a thin stream of energy was drawn out of her into the screaming swirl. And with a searing cold pain her connection to Tara was broken. She felt a suffocating compression and realized that the entire universe was breathing. Expanding and shrinking in broken, erratic intervals, like it was trying to collapse, but was held up byme. My energy. Something is borrowing my energy.
And she could feel the gravity of other bubbles, other universes as they pulled at this one. Touching at points, merging to create new colors that swirled in energy clouds of time and space.
She panicked for a moment, her attention faltering as she drifted along without anchor. Because it had a sort of terrible, compelling beauty to it and it called to her moving her farther and farther from herself. She could see now the way to control it. The places where the darkness of the device's spell and her own darkness meshed and mingled. It would be so easy to insinuate herself into the dark and seemingly endless power of the Heart and
There was something important she had to remember.
The connection. Tara.
She felt the slight familiar tug of something warm and understood what that other energy was. Everywhere. Tara. Her mind regained focus and she thought back to the blonde's halting description of Willow's omnipresence. Maybe that had been the problem in the future. She had been looking for Tara in the wrong places back in the real now. Searching for her in the specific and the separate when she was everywhere at once.
Before letting go she used a small but excruciating amount of energy to create a map' of what she had seen. A map she could take back to the real.
The warmth moved through her, pulling her back through layers of energy and space. Images of the past and the possible future flicked through her consciousness. She wanted to stay and capture them all. Study them for clues to the right future. The future with Tara in it. But there was an undeniable force pulling her back with strong hands that spoke to a place deep within her. That place that didn't need words or reason. That only Tara could open.
She gasped back into consciousness still chanting to find the blonde above her staring down at her with eyes full of concern andshe smiledalmost black with need.
"Are you okay?"
A quick glance past blonde hair revealed a slowly spinning hologram hovering just above Tara's left shoulder. The spell and her own magic mapped out in swirling colors.
She could only nod as she brought her leaden arms up to encircle the blonde and bring her naked body down to hers.
"Willow," I need you. Now.
It wasn't spoken but she heard it anyway. And Tara was already inside her and she was inside Tara and this was just the completion of something that had begun outside of time. Spiritual becoming physical and back again.
Spiritual is definitely all of the good, she thought with a smile and reached up to bring her mouth to Tara's. As the slide and heat of their bodies increased, their mouths moving over each other in wide-open unspoken phrases all she could think was
But physical iswith Tarajust wow.
She woke to the light sounds of snoring. Which waskind of odd. The room was still dark, but she could make out the faint outline of her mother's sleeping form next to her, the fuzzy pink of a wash cloth still covering her eyes.
The headachesand that device. This is all wrong. But Mom
For several minutes she listened to her mother's regular breathing, watched her chest rise and fall under the blanket. Her mother was alive here and now. But for how long? She began to do the mental math, growing more and more desperate as she ticked away the months until Dawn's appearance. Until her mother's body on the couch.
Don't go there. Remember what mom said. Concentrate on making things right here. Now.
The Slayer inside was growing restless and she knew that soon her need for release would become undeniable. Her fear rousing the sleeping beast within making her heart race, her muscles tense. With a loud sigh she gave up on sleep altogether and checked the clock. 4:52. At least that was normal. She hadn't been able to sleep through the night in years. Especially since Willow had brought her back. Yanked her back.
Gently extricating herself from the covers so as not to wake her mother, Buffy quietly walked to her room to dress, making a mental plan.
First would be slaying because she needed to quiet the beast. Then Willow. They needed some sort of plan to get them back. Maybe her dream would help. And it was possible that the witches had found something useful already. If not, her next stop would be Giles. That was a last resort because there was too much she couldn't tell him. Too much she was tempted to tell him so that he would change things. For her. So she wouldn't have to. Then back home to spend more time with Mom. After penning a quick note to her mother, she wrote muffins and coffee' in blue ink on her hand hoping to be back in time to surprise her with breakfast.
For some reason she opened the window and crawled through to make the short jump down to the ground. Just like high school. If nothing else it definitely brought a smile to her face. Plus the physicality of it did a little toward calming the Slayer side of things.
And she was walking toward the cemetery, like she did every night, her subconscious sifting through the sensory information rolling in. Cataloging the interesting bits, flagging down the inevitable supernatural flare. But it was too small, too all-over-the-place to be a threat. Her adversaries tended to be of the highly localized variety as Willow used to put it. She had never gotten the joke until that moment and felt guilty suddenly and more than a little stupid for the vacuous stare that had almost definitely met the hacker's attempt at humor. But she had always felt sort of mentally challenged around her best friend.
The dream image of a younger Willow suddenly filled her mind. Those black eyes set in innocent features excitedly floating a pencil. With a shiver she noticed that the image had stopped her dead in the middle of one of the cemetery's many footpaths. What did it mean?
"Well, lookie, lookie what we have here." The slight lisp caused by a tongue against brand new fangs would have given him away even without the now clanging alarm of her internal vampire sense. "A tasty little treat."
Buffy's eyes rolled involuntarily as she turned to confront a former frat boy with one of the thickest necks she had ever seen. Well, that explained it. A neck that size must be irresistible to someone with a serious neck fetish. As she sized him up and worked out the best comeback her brain cycled through possible fight plans. One flick of her wrist and she could stake him from here, but that wouldn't be fun. She needed a fight tonight. The release would help her concentrate on solving the riddle of the dream and the spell andeverything.
But this vamp was big. And dumb. And he kind of looks like RileyRiley on serious steroids. But stilldefinitely big and that could get dangerous so
"And blonde too." He licked his lips. "I like blondes."
Buffy shook her head and regarded him coolly as he stepped toward her. "Well, you know what they say." Fratvamp lunged surprising her and caught her jacket lapel in one hand. In one graceful movement the Slayer grabbed his sweatshirt and dropped, using her weight to drag him down so that she could kick him easily up and over her head into a tombstone. It would have been a paralyzing back-breaking blow to anyone but a vampire.
The former frat boy shook his head and glared at her with confusion and growing frustration. "Aw come on. Why are you fighting this? I promise you'll like it," he said with a smooth smile, stalking toward her menacingly.
"You didn't let me finish my joke. See, they say," she began again only to be interrupted by a clumsy attempt at a left hook. Ducking quickly the Slayer hit him with a well-rehearsed kick to the groin and a combination to his thick neck. Within seconds the vamp was on his knees before her staring up in shock. "blondes have more fun," she continued, burying the stake in his chest. "Dusting your mouth-breathing ass."
With more than a little disappointment she quickly surveyed the area to find herself alone. No vampire action anywhere nearby. And frat vamp hadn't been nearly enough to satisfy her. Maybe there was some action at the cemetery on Dimas.
Tucking the stake into her jacket she began a brisk walk in that general direction, her mind returning immediately to the dream images. There were answers there if she could just figure it outin time. But her dreams were always hellishly confusing until after the fact. But that was the way it was with everything wasn't it? So clear in hindsight.
Walking purposefully on the uneven pavement she was surprised to find herself in front of the hospital. Nowhere near the cemetery and no recollection of actually travelling there. Images from the dream suddenly overwhelmed her: Dawn comatose in a hospital bed, Faith and something about talking underwater
It was way past visiting hours, but sneaking past the orderlies and nurses proved to be no challenge. Most were dosing away the time or busily engaged in hospital paperwork. A quick look over a sleeping nurse's shoulder at a computer screen gave her the room number and she began her stealthy descent into the hospital's basement, her nose crinkling at the smell of disinfectant andsomething musty. Like a house no one had lived in for years.
Does anyone ever come down here?
She entered the room without thinking, so focused on her mission that she hadn't imagined the numbing terror of actually being there. With Faith. Who was lying helpless and vulnerable under a white sheet in this horrible room with its peeling gray paint and the choking smell of mildew.
And there were all the familiar feelings. The anger and heat that the other Slayer seemed to pull out of her. The hurt and betrayal that engulfed her like a spell. It was all there, but the sight of the Slayer lying thereshe was just a girl. Like Dawn or evenme.
And all of that anger and hurt wrapped around itself becoming a thing that she could finally get both hands around. And put aside. Where it finally looked likeguilt.
Buffy swallowed past the lump in her throat and forced herself to look at the other Slayer. The flimsy, stained hospital gown and yellowing sheets. Her pale skin, even whiter now after months away from the sun.
Like a vampire, she thought with a shudder that brought back the encounter that had lead to this place. Faith fighting Buffy for her life And that brought the other side of her into play. The inner voice that spoke in rationalizations and blame. It was talking to her now about the body switch and Angel and everything that the dark Slayer had done to hurt her, but all she could see were the dark circles and dry, chapped lips. How did this broken girl manage to fight her in the Quad?
Chapped lips. She realized that she had never seen Faith without her trademark dark lipstick. War paint, she thought with a smile. Took on a whole new meaning
Why am I even here? This is ridiculous.
And there were two solutions here. Two ways to stop the terrible spiral between them. Killing her was the obvious first answer. No one would know and they certainly wouldn't care. And she was evil. She could feel all of the terrible past with Faith building inside her into a yell of righteous anger.
Butchapped lips. There was something so heartbreakingly and infuriatingly vulnerable about those damn chapped lips. The lips of a little kid out in the wind and the weather too long. As she studied Faith's features, the dark Slayer's forehead furrowed and she let out a low whimper, her eyes flicking rapidly under dark lids. A nightmare. She wondered suddenly if Faith had the same surreal prophetic dreams. If she was in the middle of an eight month long one now.
Another low whimper and she couldn't help herself. "Faith," she said softly and the whimpering stopped. "Iit's okay, it's me." She shifted uncomfortably fighting conflicting urges to comfort and to run. "Buffy."
Yeah, that's gonna make her feel all safe. You stabbed her remember?
A part of her feared that Faith would rear up in the bed like a scene from a bad horror movie and strangle her. Instead she seemed to relax. Her eyes moving slowly under her lids.
Buffy took a deep breath, preparing herself for what she had to say. Or ask. Asking for help had always been difficult for her, but over the past year it had become justalien. Who could she ask for help? Not Willow. Tara was gone. And Xander was always there to help, but he just wasn't enough. Which left her with "So, um, I'm just gonna say this okay, I need your help Faith." A few beats passed as she waited for some kind of response, a smirk or chuckle or something, but there was nothing. "I, uh, it's my sister Dawnwho doesn't exist yet, butsee there's this metal time machine thing and Willow and I used it and we're stuck in the past and that means Dawn's stuck in the future and I need you to protect her for me." Whoa channeling Willow. Slow down. And her tone, she noticed was growing angrier and more demanding. "Okay, this is crazy, you don't evenand why would you.I mean I stabbed you and we hate each other and" Faith's forehead furrowed again, her blank face forming a slight frown, which meant
They can hear you from miles awayit just takes longer to get there.
Faith's words. From the dream. But could she really hear her? Understand her? Well, she never heard me when she was all up and walking aroundand stabbing me in the back.
Okay, stop with the snarkiness cause newsflash! The girl's in a coma!
"What did Mom say?" she mused aloud and remembered gentle words about regret. About making things rightnow.
What were the things she regretted, really regretted about Faith?
I regret that she is a skanky, evil
Buffy closed her eyes and began a breathing exercise to calm herself. To distance herself from the anger and prepare for battle. Because that's what this felt like. It was Faith after all. Even if she was all coma-y. "Okay, soI'm sorry I didn't cometo see you or whatever. That was really kind ofcrappy of me especially after you helped with the Mayor and all, soyou know, for that. The not coming here thing."
She grew quiet, her eyes drifting over the room's depressing contents. An ancient-looking heart monitor next to a rusted IV stand. It took her a few seconds to realize she was waiting for a response. But Faith's face was blank again and the heart monitor kept beeping in regular time.
Okay this is stupid and a waste of time and
She jammed her hands in her coat pockets ready to leave andthere it was. Cylindrical and smooth. Lip balm. Or, more likely lip gloss. Pink. It was freshman year after all.
Damn!
Sucking in an enormous breath Buffy moved toward the figure on the bed, still ready for any sign of a waking Faith. Still ready for an attack.
"Okay, this is gonna seem really weird andoh whatever." The lid came off with one tug and she approached the dark Slayer slowly. Cautiously. This was, after all, her arch enemy she was closing in on with only a tube of pink lip gloss.
It was easier than she thought it would be. Like playing makeover with Tara and Dawn. But it was strange to see that shiny pink on such a blank face. No smile. No expression at all. But at least the chapped lips were gone. And Faith almost lookedsweet.
Probably the best revenge ever. Evil she-demon slayed by Cotton Candy lip gloss! She thought and laughed out loud surprising herself. The image of Faith awaking from a coma horrified to find herself wearing pink lip gloss made her laugh even louder, but the hollow, lonely sound of her laughter echoing through the room and out into the hall silenced her.
And that left her in an awkward quiet, which was strange because that's all there had been between them. But she felt as if there was a conversation happening. Just not audible.
"So, um, there's all this stuff I need to tell" someone. She trailed off and realized she was fidgeting with the tube of lip gloss. Popping the cap off and back on over and over again. She began to return it to her coat pocket, but stopped herself. With a mischievous smile she slid the tube into Faith's limp hand.
Maybe she'll think she did it herself. In her sleepor coma or whatever.
After a few more moments her smile faded and her eyes drifted over the dark Slayer's once powerful form. Her jaw clenched unconsciously when she reached Faith's abdomen. It was covered in hospital gown. The wound. The scar. But she could feel it anyway. A frown burned its way into her forehead and she took another deep cleansing breath.
"My mom's gonna die Faith. In about a year." The tears began and she didn't even try to stop them. "And I can't do anything about it. Or maybe I can, but I shouldn't and" she looked to that pale face for a reaction, but there was nothing. Just pink lip gloss on that perfect mouth that had never been still before. Faith had always had something to sayabout everything. "And I'm gonna kind of.you know, too. Only they bring me back."
And it all began to pour out of her. Willow and Tara. Dawn and her mother. And heaven. The peace she had lost. All of it. Because she needed to tell someone and she knew Faith would understand even if she was evil. Because she was a Slayer. She knew what it was like to be the One. Which was just another way of saying alone' wasn't it?