We're nearing the end! I don't have the time to spend on this I'd like, but this feels a fairly natural length. Enjoy!
It had taken a little bit of arguing. Thankfully, the debate was swiftly curtailed when the Angels of Death and Destiny had a brief word with one of the Elders. Moments after, a rather shaken Elder gave permission for Paige to take Willow on as a charge once again.
From the little Paige had been able to gather, Willow was up to something big, wielding magic on such a scale that the Elders couldn't locate the epicentre: couldn't find the witch behind it.
That, and the Angel of Death and an Angel of Destiny had apparently found it such a concern that they'd decided to intervene. Paige didn't even want to think of what Willow must be planning.
Paige was to wait in the attic until Willow was made her charge once again. Knowing it was the best option, Paige agreed, and returned. It was mere seconds before her awareness of Willow filled her.
It was like being complete, again. It wasn't just the fact it was Willow, it was just the sensation of having a charge. Any charge: the fact it was Willow's voice she heard in her head was only an added bonus.
And not a good one. The sound was familiar, the words were not.
It felt almost profane to hear Willow's thoughts whirl around in such a way: an indistinct mess of pain, and death, and violation. Desires Paige struggled to believe anyone would hold, much less Willow.
"Are you ok?" Someone spoke. Paige couldn't tell who, one hand blindly reaching out: supporting herself on what she later found to be Buffy's shoulder.
It was overwhelming.
Before, it had been possible to tune out the voice of her charge. Perhaps it because, then, they had enough in common that there was less contrast. With Willow especially, her mind had felt almost natural.
Now, things were conflicted. Every thought not-Willow had, Paige blanched at: her mind rebelled at it.
It took precious seconds for her to stand upright, and breathe as normal. Already she could feel the corruption promised her: the danger of being bonded to evil. For an instant, Paige felt doubt, felt as though she'd fail, and perhaps turn alongside Willow.
That was the darkness talking. Paige shook her head: straightened.
"I'm fine," she said. Inhaled: "Right, it's done. Give me a moment."
In the rush, she'd nearly forgotten why she'd agreed to do this. It was their only hope at finding Willow: and talking her down. Paige wouldn't give up that hope.
She wouldn't leave Willow.
"Mexico," Paige said. "She's in Mexico, I-"
If she focused on a charge, she could sometimes pick up flashes. It wasn't something she had much cause to do, not when she could orb to their side in a heartbeat, but now it felt best to be sure.
Certain words kept repeating themselves, in Willow's minds. An incantation, it felt like, and a place. A name.
"She's thinking…" Paige hesitated. "Something about Mictlan. Tlaloc. Tezcatlipoca. I don't know what it means, it just won't leave her mind."
"Check the book," Piper said, gesturing to Phoebe: who stood closer.
Before Phoebe so much as touched it, though, the book rifled through its own pages, flicking to just the double-page spread they were looking for. Andrew jumped: Piper shrugged.
"It does that sometimes," she said.
He relaxed as much as he could. Uncertainly, Phoebe moved toward the book, and began to read.
"The Mictlan Passing," she said. "The Aztec people practised human sacrifice: repeatedly, at the same geographical location, lives were lost, over a great span of time. This weakened the border between the realm of life and death: the weakest of these patches may be broken by a sufficiently powerful spell. This location we call the Mictlan Passing, after the Aztec term for one of the worlds beyond."
A pause: Phoebe inhaled, letting her words sink in.
No wonder the Angel of Death had been around when she'd gone upstairs, Paige reflected. Willow was doing something that affected death: but what could be so major Destiny decided to intervene?
"When the border is shattered," Phoebe continued, "The two realms will mingle. Death will become unreachable, no matter how much someone may age, or suffer: and every spirit of every life lived will pour through, filling the world. None may die, and the world will be filled by the souls and new bodies of the dead. All will suffer eternally, unable to escape even by death."
That would do it. Paige suppressed a shudder at the desperation she felt in Willow's mind, the eagerness for the hell Phoebe had just described. Life said nothing about the quality of life: and in the world Willow was aiming for, the quality would be abysmal, and inescapable.
"An accord was reached," Phoebe continued, voice shaking just slightly, "Between the forces of good and evil. None sought to call upon the Mictlan Passing, neither having anything to gain from its use."
Willow was ending death. That would explain the Angel of Destiny's worry, then. Something not even the forces of evil wanted to do.
It wasn't a goal any faction sought. Only the kind of mind that sought to end the world's pain with an apocalypse might consider it.
"Why would she want to do that?" Phoebe said, her voice quieter now she was no longer reading.
Paige and Buffy shared a look. Both of them knew the answer, however much it made Paige feel a pang to admit it. Bring every spirit in death back to life? Of course Willow would seek that.
Not that it was anything Tara would want. That was the danger when Willow was like this, she'd obsess: she'd focus on achieving one aim, and forget whether it was something the person she was 'helping' even wanted.
"She would," Paige said. Buffy nodded, wordless.
Piper gave a frustrated sigh: "Can anyone in this house have a normal relationship? I mean really, we've had warlocks, ghosts, movie characters, cupid, the Source of All Evil…"
"Vampires," Buffy raised her hand. "See if you're living on a hell-mouth. Plays havoc with relationships, take it from me."
A brief chuckle. Paige found herself smiling at the welcome distraction, before taking a step away from her sisters. If she didn't have long before the corruption took hold, she couldn't afford to waste time.
"I've got to go," Paige said.
She didn't wait for any reaction, focusing on where she sensed Willow being, and calling on her power to orb. In seconds, she was gone.
Something felt a little off, but she felt herself travel, and so ignored her uncertainty. She didn't notice the spots of darkness, the iconic lights of a darklighter, slowly taking hold as she orbed away.
.
The Mictlan Passing. It was a temple, though something about it didn't seem quite right. There was a sense of ill in the air, and the stones of the ruin were hard to focus on. If Paige hadn't known what she was looking for, and hadn't been able to feel Willow's presence, she might have ignored it.
No doubt one of the defences put up around it, just in case. Defences Willow had already been through.
Fighting the nausea that had been growing in her ever since she'd orbed, Paige hurried closer. Willow was at the base of a stone set of steps, dark lightning crackling between her fingertips, and making the land shudder.
"Willow!" Paige lifted her voice: not-Willow turned.
She seemed surprised. Inasmuch as it was possible to read emotion into that pale face, and those dark eyes, she didn't seem to expect to see Paige there.
The whirling sense of her charge, Willow's thoughts, momentarily increased in intensity. Paige caught her own name a few times.
"Look who's here," Willow said. "Try and stay over there."
"And if I don't?" Paige said: moved closer.
"Then you'll get in the way," Willow said. "You might not like the consequences."
As if to punctuate her words, she raised a hand: thrust it toward the temple. Energy shot out, briefly surging, and encircling the peak. As the violet magic faded, the outline of something was just about visible. Some tear: the Mictlan Passing itself.
"You won't hurt me," Paige said. She took another step.
"I'd be careful," Willow said. She did her best to seem neutral. "This is very strong stuff. Getting in the way might be fatal."
"You definitely won't kill me," Paige said.
"Haven't you heard?" Willow grinned: "Even if I did, it won't matter. Give it a few minutes, you'll come back."
Willow's voice was playful. How could she be playful, here of all places?
"Is that really what you want?" Paige said.
Willow sent more magic arcing up to the top of the temple, illuminating the tear once more.
"You think it isn't?" Willow said. Still, she seemed amused.
It wasn't enjoyment, Paige realized then. She could both see it in the witch, and feel it. It was detachment: that and obsession seemed to be this Willow's defining traits. She refused to let herself feel any more than she had to.
Willow didn't care. The thought almost made Paige stagger: it was too different to the redhead she'd-
"I know why you're doing this," Paige said, and tried not to let regret show in her tone.
"Do tell," Willow said: smirked.
"It's Tara, isn't it?" Paige said. "You think, if you bring her back, you'll… Do you think she'll thank you for doing this?"
An instant of silence. Willow faltered when next she raised her arm, though she sent out magic nonetheless.
For a second, the void in her eyes cleared. There was no indication she was moving away from darkness, though: only that her store of magic might be lessening.
"You think it's Tara," Willow said. Her voice seemed somehow flatter, now her eyes were cleared.
"You're ending death," Paige said. "Everyone who's gone returns. Who-"
"And everyone who's alive, stays alive," Willow said. "I told you. Willow loses everyone, one way or another. If I do this, she- I won't lose anyone. Never again."
Willow's voice raised: and more magic was sent out. The latest burst lasted a few seconds longer, and as soon as it subsided, something seemed to have altered.
The ritual wasn't complete yet: but the Mictlan Passing was thrumming. There was what felt like a heartbeat in the world around them, now. A slow beat, immeasurably vast, immeasurably ancient, but unmistakable. In time with the end of each beat, Willow exerted more magic.
"I-it's me?" Paige said: hesitated.
Willow said nothing: though she did miss one beat.
Any other time, Paige might have felt sick. There were things she never wanted done in her name: this, unquestionably, was one of them.
"You don't want to lose me," Paige said, echoing Willow's voice. "You don't, and you're doing this?"
"Everyone goes," Willow said. Flat.
"So will I," Paige said. "If you do this, you'll lose me, as surely as if you'd killed me. You won't- I…"
If it were anyone else, Paige might have called her sisters.
Even now, though, she couldn't think of Willow as malevolent. Abraxas had darkened her magic: taken her back to the worst point in her life. An evil Willow was a Willow ruled, not by sadism, but by grief.
It said something about Willow, that the worst evil Abraxas could dredge up in her was love lost. That which she did in its name might be horrific, but the motivation was not an evil one.
Which meant she could choose, and she could make the right choice.
"You'll lose me," Paige said, again, "Because you won't be Willow. I know Willow, and I know what she can do."
"Ruin her friends' lives," not-Willow said, "Kill the people she loves. Mess with their memories. Lie to their faces."
"That's the past," Paige said. "The Willow who refuses to forgive herself for doing that, the Willow who saved the world, the Willow I know: I trust her, and I know what she will, and what she won't do."
"You think I don't want to do this?" More magic.
"I know it," Paige said. "I'm your whitelighter: you're my charge. I can feel you. The doubt, the uncertainty you won't admit to. It's there: and if I can feel it, I know you can. You can change your mind. Make the right choice."
A step closer. Willow shrunk back, almost forgetting to send more violet energy to the Mictlan Crossing. The tear bulged: pulsated.
"You think Willow's capable of that?" not-Willow said. Paige smiled.
"I know you are," a step closer.
Another burst of magic, though this one seemed to falter somewhat. It wasn't long now, though what to, Paige couldn't say.
"How?" not-Willow said.
"Because I love you," Paige said, "And one of the reasons I do, is because this is something you could never do. This is something you don't want."
Willow extended her arm. No magic; only faint flickers of light, falling and fading as they hit the stone ground.
"I love you," Paige said, again.
Something in the world shifted at those words. Something in Paige's mind quietened: became less oppressive, less overwhelming: and she watched as the darkness evaporated from Willow's hair. She watched as paleness was replaced by a far healthier complexion, and veins faded from view.
For a moment it was Willow standing there: and then she fell to her knees. Paige orbed the final few steps to catch her, thankfully noting her orb-travel felt as it should.
She caught Willow, her arms under the redhead's, and they sunk to their knees together. Willow's head turned: buried itself in the crook of Paige's neck.
"I've got you," Paige's voice went from raised to be heard over the (now dwindling) heartbeat, to a comforting whisper. "Don't worry. I've got you. I'm here."
