Acid Rain
Chapter 1
Willow stared out of the window at the rain. It was coming down in sheets, trickling down the huge windows of Giles's England home. It had started that morning when she had woken up to the arrival of the man himself and a tea-tray laden with the statutory cup of coffee and bowl of cereal. The coffee had been drunk gladly, the need to wake up at the fore of her mind. The need to eat had long been pushed to the back, and the cornflakes had been left to drown in the milk, their form decomposing before her eyes.
"Willow- you are not concentrating"
The young witch tore her eyes from the countryside view, and turned to face Axel, the formal English male witch who had been appointed by Giles to help train her mind after he had spirited her away for recovery, once the reality of what she had tried to do back home had hit her fully. Axel was a patient man. A former monk, he was often to be found in silence, the loose oriental clothing he wore flowing around him like the petals of a deeply interesting fauna. When he did speak, he didn't waste words by using too many, but refused to abbreviate the ones he chose. He was tiny, barely up to Willows shoulder, but he was not a man to be crossed. His powers of mind were greater than anyone Giles had ever met apparently. Plus, he was a kick-ass martial arts expert.
Willow sighed and looked back at the pencil in front of her on the padded floor of the training room obviously originally meant for slayers. The equipment which had once cluttered the area had been moved to the perimeter of the room when she arrived, to allow her to be re-trained in the ways of witches, a punishment for the abuse she'd wielded this past year. A full re-train, starting from the basics.
Closing her eyes, she let her breath out slowly, clearing her mind, and then focused on the writing implement in front of her. It rose quickly from the floor, causing a warning from Axel to go slowly, to allow the mind to get used to magic again. Giles had left her tee-total for a week, and she was only now being allowed to use her powers again.
Which really wasn't fair, she thought. Willow knew she was better than most the witches in the coven she was working with- probably better than all of them in fact. Giles was just scared, that was all. Like a child. She'd seen the fear in his eyes when she'd gone over to the other side. Oh, he'd presented a strong outer façade- a stiff upper lip, as the English said- but she'd known. She'd known all along how he was trembling. And now this- this was just to humiliate her. To get some cheep vengeance for daring to be more powerful than he could handle. She knew it. She…
Uttered a startled gasp as the pencil spun madly, flicking end over point before levelling out on the horizontal and speeding forward like a bullet from a gun, to stick in the portrait of three Edwardian women directly across form her, driving straight between the eyes of the tallest brunette, and staying there, a demonic horn sullying the perfect picture.
Heaving a sigh, Axel dragged himself up from the lotus position he had been sat in, and walked over to the portrait, deliberately leisurely. He pulled it out from the picture with a loud pop, healing the broken skin of the woman with nothing more than the smoothing of a hand over her forehead. He turned and fixed Willow with a steely glare, head on one side, waiting.
"Sorry," she stuttered finally, shrugging pathetically.
Axel rolled his eyes skyward, a silent prayer playing around his lips, before he walked back to the Wiccan and sat down in front of her, drawing his knees up under his chin and looking straight into her eyes.
"What is it Willow?" He asked gently, searching her face.
She lowered her eyes and allowed her thoughts to go where they wanted, back to the one woman she loved, and let it all burst forth.
In fits and starts she once again spilled out Tara's tale. Axel had heard it, many times, and still listened, as she sobbed over their first meeting, the wordless communication that had taken place in her first year of collage with the nervously powerful Wiccan, the spells they'd indulged in, the nights they'd spent in each others arms, discovering her sexuality through her, with her. The total emptiness she felt when she'd left, the joy on their reunion, the anger as the woman's life had been cruelly snatched away by a stray bullet. Then she moved on to the subsequent snap of her mind, the blissfulness of giving over to anger totally, of taking it out on those she needed most, but hadn't been able to see- her friends. And the touching catalyst for her eventual repent- a simple memory of a young girl and a yellow crayon from her oldest friend, Xander.
When she had ground to a halt, Axel took the young woman's chin in his hand, tipping her face upwards so that she was forced to look at and listen to him. Willow saw the sympathy in his eyes, dancing with the flames of resolve and annoyance, putting up it's fight, but ultimately being worn down.
"Willow," he murmured. "I know what you have gone through. I lost someone dear to me not that long ago too, and it also resulted in my coming here."
Willow blinked. Axel had never spoken about his life. He'd never used so many words in a sentence either. He was comfortingly like Oz in that way. He shattered the persona he had created now, by confiding in her.
"Five years ago now, back when I was living in a peaceful little hamlet in Germany, my partner and I were engaged in battle with a powerful magi. He was the creation of pure evil, and the terror he had wreaked on our home had been bitter, fuelled by hatred and envy. The only way to stop it was to offer him a duel he could not resist- Julian and I, in mortal combat.
"The fight was long and hard, and we suffered greatly, but we won. Eventually, the last strike was issued upon him, and the demon was torn from this world back into the Hell dimension. But his last parting shot was one simple word, directed at me. "Vernichtung". Death."
Willow saw tears start to well up in her tutor's eyes, the memory obviously causing him pain. She motioned that he should stop if he wanted, but he simply smiled and shook his head.
"You need to hear this as much as I need to say it. Julian jumped in front of the death blow, shielding me, but sacrificing his own life instead. I held him in my arms as the light went from his eyes. I also called upon the spirits to give him back, and I too was rejected. But this is where we differ, Willow. I accepted it. I moved on."
Willow stared for a moment, waiting for more, but was granted with just the man's customary silence. That was it? That was what she'd needed to hear?
"You're telling me," she said, fighting to keep her anger down, "that I should just… forget?"
"No," the small man interrupted. "Never forget her, Willow, never. She will provide you strength when you think you have none. Never forget- just let her go. For her soul's sake as well as your own. It's what Tara would want."
"Don't you dare speak her name!" Willow yelled, all restraints on her fury snapping, burning up in the power of the release, and she stood suddenly. "Don't you try to second guess what she would want! You never knew her- how dare you?"
She jerked her head from his hands, her pupils starting to grow, and her face distorted by resentment. Axel cried out as his hands were grabbed and bent backwards, too far back. A storm was building up outside, the thunder rumbling with her feelings. Willow could see the fear in the former monks eyes, and she fed on it- it excited her in ways she'd forgotten, touching some primal urge within.
"They never cared either. No time for Willow. No, all that mattered was Buffy. Perfect bloody Buffy, the slayer savour of Sunnydale. She never gave a damn about me- I hate her!"
The thunder outside exploded as Willow received a sharp slap across the face. The shock and sting of pain pulled her back to herself, and she fell to her knees sobbing wildly. Axel stared down at her passively, rubbing the palm of his hand. His focus was soon dragged to the window, as a maelstrom built up outside, magical energy rippling around it. A demonic whisper echoed around them.
Buffy. Sunnydale. Slayer.
"We need to inform Rupert of what your temper had created right away," Axel stated, turning to sweep from the room.
She debated following, but didn't.Willow instead crawled to the window, clutching her stomach and cheek. She forced herself upright, watching as the magic storm fled from the grounds, on it's way to seek vengeance for her.
"Buffy," she whispered. "What have I done?"
