This chapter takes place after Selfless, Episode 5 of Season 7.
Turned out missing a month of classes could put you behind. Even for someone who loved school, Willow was having a tough time catching up. She was even beginning to get sick of being in the library, which was something she'd never thought possible. Still, she was grateful to her professors for letting her join their classes long after the add/drop period. She missed school; it was where she felt the most Willow. It helped her remember who that was.
Still, she was she was exhausted by the time her study group let out and she made it home. "Buffy's out patrolling," Dawn called from the dining room. Willow peeled off her jacket and let the book-bag fall to the floor as she flopped into a chair across from Dawn. "Long day?" Dawn said, watching Willow slump across the table.
"I can feel my brain hurt," Willow moaned.
"That's physically impossible," Dawn pointed out.
"Tell that to my brain," Willow mumbled into the table.
Dawn lifted one of Willow's limp arms lying atop one of her notebooks. "Well tell your brain to not ooze all over my biology homework."
Interest piqued, Willow turned her head to the side just enough to peek. "Biology?"
Dawn gave her a look of sublime skepticism. "I thought your brain hurt."
Fully engaged at this point, Willow scooched her chair closer to the textbooks. "Well, it does," Willow admitted, "But that was for other stuff, not biology," she scoffed, displaying a renewed second wind of excited energy. "What'cha working on?"
"Enzymes. What did you do when you had the enzymatic reactions lab?"
"Well, our teacher kinda turned into a monster in the middle of the curriculum, so we missed that one. But hey!" she brightened, nudging Dawn enthusiastically. "Now we can do it together!"
Dawn shrugged. "Okay, as long as I get full credit."
"Great! Lemme go change and I'll be right back," Willow announced, grabbing her bag and coat from the floor, before climbing the stairs.
She crossed the upstairs hallway to the bathroom when a wave of dizziness passed through her. She leaned against the door jamb for balance, swaying unsteadily. The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. But the wave soon passed as quickly as it had come. "Oookay . . . don't skip lunch, and bring study snacks next time," Willow noted. "Message received."
The floor creaked down the hallway in Buffy's room. "Buffy?" She called, "Are you back? How was—"
The words evaporated before reaching her lips and Willow stood stunned in the hallway, eyes glued to the floor of Buffy's room.
Because nothing in the world had prepared her for the sight of Tara lying on the carpet.
Immediately the world started to spin. Willow's heart exploded, pounding, pulsing in her ears; it was deafening. She clamped her hands against her ears to dim the whooshing, but it only served to make things louder. Cringing in pain and confusion, Willow whimpered, searching around the room wildly for answers, eyes coming to rest on the window.
The window.
No, the window had broken. The window was . . . whole? She heard it shatter. Everything shattered.
Tara was lying on the carpet. Tara is lying on the carpet?
She was hyperventilating.
Tara was lying on the carpet. Willow clenched her eyes shut and grit her teeth. Tara was lying on the carpet.
I just remember thinking I wasn't ready to see you guys yet . . .
. . . Thinking . . .
Willow's eyes opened wide.
Tara was lying on the carpet.
Oh god, what have I done?
It's done.
There's a crinkle, a kind of sigh, and Tara opens her eyes.*
Light filters in from what must be a hallway, but it's dark, and she is in a bedroom—that much she can tell. It seems like Joyce's bedroom, the one she and Willow had shared. But things have changed. The pictures on the wall have been replaced and the bed is different. She sits up, absorbing the surroundings, reveling in her continued existence.
A dog barks in a yard across the street, pulling Tara from her reverie, her head snapping toward the sound. She stares, slack jawed, with a look of awe on her face at the mundane noise.
Still stunned, but eager to continue exploring, she makes her way to get up, but wobbles. Tara presses a hand to her head against the hum of lightheadedness that assaults her. A few seconds pass before she feels steady enough to try again. She is soon stopped by another dizzy spell, but this time because of the figure in the doorway.
Willow stands, completely frozen like a statue. Tara's stomach flips. They stare at each other as time stretches, in matched shock and stillness. The dog barks again, reminding Tara this isn't a dream, and it propels her forward.
She takes a step, and as if that motion is enough to break whatever spell Willow is under, she moves in return, taking a step backward. Tara hesitates, frowning. More slowly this time, she takes another small step and again, Willow shuffles farther away. Tara finally takes a step forward, reaching out her hand, when Willow suddenly flees in horror.
Tara's forehead wrinkles in confusion. Before she can follow, Willow has already bolted down the stairs and run outside. Tara makes it down in time to watch helplessly as Willow stumbles across the front yard, panicked and scared like a wild animal.
Willow's hands twist in her hair, she's muttering to herself and pacing with her eyes trained straight down at the ground. Tara takes a few steps forward, unsure of how to proceed, arm held out in front of her uselessly, trying to figure out what to do.
Neither of them notice Dawn approach the front door to take in the scene in front of her.
"Oh my god," Dawn gapes, dropping her pencil. "Oh my god," she repeats.
Tara swivels at the sound, locking onto the sounds of Dawn's distress. "Dawn," she breathes. There's a swirl of emotion on her face, joy and hope conflicting with uncertainty and worry at the situation.
"Oh my god," Dawn says again, louder this time. Without tearing her gaze away from Tara, she says, "Willow, what happened?" Willow doesn't break pace. "What happened?" Dawn asks again, more forcefully. Willow shakes her head, muttering to herself with her eyes clenched tight.
"What did you do?" Dawn demands.
"I— I—" Willow stammers, staring at her hands, palms open facing the sky, retreating further into herself. "I don't—"
"Dawn, step away from that."
Dawn and Tara look past Willow to see Buffy standing at the end of the driveway. There's an intense look of concentration on her face, and her body posture evokes that of a hunter, stalking quietly, ready to attack at any moment.
For her part, Willow hasn't looked at Tara since coming outside. In fact, it almost seems as if she's forgotten Tara entirely, focusing on trying to calm herself down. There's a veritable garden surrounding Willow, plants and flowers that weren't there a minute ago blossoming at her every step. She seems unaware of Buffy's presence.
Dawn and Buffy are squared off, Tara between them, and no one notices Willow collapse like a doll farther out on the lawn, as suddenly as if a light switch had been turned off.
"Buffy?" Dawn asks, lost and confused, eyes darting between Tara and her sister.
"Get away from it," she responds in a hard voice.
"What?" Dawn replies, dazed, but making no motion to move from where she stands.
"If that's Tara, it means she's the big bad we've been waiting for, and there's no way that's a possibility. Or its the big bad pretending to be Tara. Either way, that's not our Tara. So, again, Dawn. Please be a good sister and step away from whatever the hell that is," Buffy explains in an eerily calm tone that belies the tension in her stance. She never stops stalking closer.
Dawn hesitates, clearly conflicted.
"Willow, you too," Buffy continues, not tearing her eyes off Tara. At the lack of response, Buffy finally breaks eye contact, looking for her and all three of them finally notice the unconscious redhead.
Tara shouts Willow's name and runs to where she's fallen. Buffy rushes to intercept, grabbing Tara's arm before she gets there. At the touch, a wave of energy rushes through them, radiating throughout their bodies.
With matched expressions of surprise and confusion, Tara and Buffy stand locked in this position as Dawn rushes across the lawn to Willow, still out cold in the grass. The flowers surrounding Willow recede into the earth, the last one melting away just as Dawn skids to her side.
"Willow," both Tara and Buffy utter as one.
*wordplay borrowed from Tulipp's Terra Firma, which if you haven't yet read, please stop what you're doing right now, google it, and sit down with it. Bring a blanket and a cup of tea. You'll be there for a while, and it'll be worth it.