For Good or Bad, The Memories Remain.
Chapter 29
Disclaimer- I don't own Buffy, I just use her in my writing, just for fun, never for profit "Because that's wrong!"
Spoilers- mid 4th season then everything takes a left turn off the charted path
Rating- May get to R eventually
Buffy ran into the person she figured least to see. Willow was sitting in the cemetery she was crossing through around sunrise. Adam had just left after walking and talking all night. He had helped her, like he always did. He was like a rock in the middle of a raging river; all around him may be chaos but right behind him was a small calm part. She was more focused and a bit at peace with herself for the first time since her "Awakening several days ago. Of course she didn't recognize her at first. Willow's normally simple earthy attire she had migrated to from the perky "Hello Kitty" phase of fashion was gone. In its place was a touch of grunge with a twist of punk thrown in. Doc Martin's, faded and ripped jeans cuffed high, black spandex top under an old and faded green field jacket. This was a definite twist. And to top it off, her once beautiful bright hair was now a deep crimson, almost auburn. Willow was watching her walk across the damp lawn, a strange closed expression on her once open face. Willow's words from yesterday came back sharp as a razor in her mind, "Monster". And the sad thing was, she was right, Buffy was a monster. She fought for control of it every day, and most days she won. The day she feared was the day she couldn't muster the mental fortitude to fight it down. Willow grimaced as Buffy closed the range to the distance their 'Immortal Radar' set off its warning buzz in their heads.
"Hey Will, whatcha doing here?"
"700 years as the Slayer inside now, and I don't sleep well after dark." She snaps out.
The comment plunges straight into Buffy like a physical blow, twisting up her spine a deep dark shiver of cold that lands in her gut, a taste like ash in her mouth.
"Will you know I didn't do it on purpose! You of all people must know that!"
Buffy," she pauses, shaking her head, "or should I say Elisabetha, or, Genny, or Summer, or Mort Ange. Yes I know you, as well as you know yourself now. You wanted to escape your past, and now it's cost me most of my future. I'll never know what kind of person I could have become on my own. I can't just ignore what you gave me; it's too mixed in with everything. It affects how I react, what I do, what I like; everything. Willow Rosenberg died the other night. I don't know who I am, but I'm not her. Yesterday, I sawed another persons head off with a knife! That I was able to do it at all scares the shit out of me. That I didn't feel bad about it at the time haunts me. I don't even remember what that guy's name was. Now he's just another body in Sunnyhell. I have all the instincts of a Slayer, but not the strength, speed, or stamina. I know what its like to have all of that, and lost it because it was never really mine. So if I'm angry with you, now you know why." She stares at her shoes as she kicks her feet on the stone. "Tara won't have anything to do with me. What have I become Buffy, what's going to happen to me? When I fought with Radimer's goons, I didn't think about it, I reacted. The knowledge was there but my body just can't do it. And If I don't let the Slayer take over, I'd be beaten even faster. I'm scared."
Buffy stepped closer and used one hand to lift Willows face to look into her eyes. They were rimmed in unshed tears.
"Look at me Will. You will do fine. I believe in that one hundred percent. You survived for twenty years on the Hellmouth. You will do fine. You already are the second most powerful witch I know and the other has been doing it so much longer, it's almost cheating to compare you two. Then again, you did defeat one of her spells." She smirked at her, drawing a slight chuckle from Willow.
"Ok, I'll play along psycho-girl, what's next?'
"We need to deal with Radimer, and soon."
"You know, he does have a justifiable right and reason for revenge. You did kill his whole family, along with the rest of his village."
"To quote a friend; one of a thousand regrets Will, one of a thousand regrets"
