Does she think I'll leave, if she tells me? Not likely, if anything, she'll leave me! Luckily, it wasn't a long walk, since the entire time I was battling with my brain.
I have to tell her! She's trusting me, and it would be bad to back out now!She'll leave you, you're not good enough for her. Well then, that's her choice isn't it?Do you really want to risk it? Just don't tell her, and maybe you'll keep one friend in your life.By lying to her? That. Would. Be. WRONG! What part of that are you NOT getting? And why the hell am I arguing with myself? Agh!
After I had so decisively won my argument with myself, I realized we were here. Looking over at Tara, I saw she wasn't as aware as I was- she was about to walk right past it. I gently grabbed her arm, tugging her to a stop and pointing wordlessly. She nodded, and walked in. This wasn't gonna be easy, for either of us.
The slimy kid at the counter leered at us when I got us a room. Tara cringed away from his obviously suggestive stare, making me glare back at him as we left for our room. I was thankful there was a double for us, since I got the feeling Tara wouldn't be comfortable sharing a bed.
"We should unpack. Will we be here long enough to unpack?" Who knows how long it could take to find an apartment in LA.
"I-I don't know. I'm used t-to living out of my suitcase, though. C-can we talk first? I'm gonna l-lose my nerve if I don't get this out s-soon." She was right, I could tell. She had gone from trembling to shaking, and was really pale.
"Yeah, okay. Do you want to go first, or shall I?" Her choice. If I went first, I'd get mine out there, maybe show her that I was just as messed up, no, scratch that, MORE messed up than her.
On the other hand, she might not be able to keep her resolve up long enough if she had to wait more. Bitch of a choice.
We sat in silence for a moment, then without any warning, she stood up and stripped off her shirt. For a second I was dumbstruck- why the hell was this girl shy? Gorgeous- that was the only way to describe her. Then I looked past the yummy curviness, and saw what I assumed she meant to show me.
Bruises decorated her skin, up and down and all around. What patches of clear skin she had were small and few. Her stomach was the worst, though. It was nearly black in places, and there was a mark right under her breasts that I was sure displayed broken ribs.
Up her arms were the definite finger marks I'd spotted on the bus, at least two sets, maybe three. Three people wanted her to suffer? What kind of morons are they?
The thing that chilled me most, though, was the half-healed wound on her right side. From the angle I was at, I couldn't tell exactly what it was, only that it was recent, and serious.
As she moved to sit down again, she began to speak. "My mother died eight months ago, right after I turned seventeen. It was my sophomore year of high school. My father and brother are incredibly devout Catholics, and they never approved of my mother and I. We're Wiccan, and to them, that directly challenged the Church. Whenever they found us practicing, or doing a ritual, they would get so angry. My father would shout and quote Scripture at us, and if he was in a particularly bad mood, he would b-beat us.
"My brother was worse- he was an animal. He loved to make us hurt. While my mother was alive, she would take my beatings for me, and wouldn't let them hurt me. When she d-died, though, that all changed. It was my father's fault- he said she had a demon inside of her, and that it was exacting its price for her evil. Her wouldn't take her to a doctor, and eventually the c-cancer killed her. He, he changed, afterwards.
"He started to drink, and the beatings came more and more often. I was pretty much their slave, doing chores and cooking for them. I probably would have stayed, since I thought that was where I belonged. I've been told my whole life that I'm bad, and dirty.
"Last month, though, Dad and Donny came home really drunk, worse then usual. I had burned myself cooking dinner, so I wasn't ready yet. They were so mad. That's where most of this comes from." Here she gestured vaguely to the bruises.
"They, they hit me, and when I fell, they just kept kicking me. Then Donny, he r-r-r-" she broke down crying, harsh sobs that ripped out of her chest. She bent over, hiding her face in her hands. I wanted to comfort her, but I knew she had to get it out. So, I compromised.
Scooting over, I wrapped her in my arms. "Did he- did he rape you, Tara?" She nodded mutely and tried to pull out of my arms. I tightened my hold, rubbing circles on her back. She turned her face into my neck and kept talking.
"When he finished with me, I tried to run, I tried! But he was there, and Dad was too, and before I knew it, I was on the ground and there was a knife in my side. I was screaming through most of this, but I guess no one heard me. Dad and Donny started fighting then, and must have forgotten about me. Like I said, really drunk. I ran out, somehow, and made it to my neighbor's house without collapsing. The last thing I saw was her staring at me before I passed out.
"I woke up in the hospital. It was so scary, and I knew that my father could get to me in here. He has a silver tongue, can talk his way into anything. So as soon as I was strong enough, I ran again. I slept in the park for a week or so before I got my strength back. I snuck back to my house, got my stuff, stole all the money I could find, and got on a bus. I've been sleeping on buses and on the ground for almost a week. Then I met you, and here I am."
Throughout this entire thing, I had kept her in my arms. Now I laughed, short and sharp. She glanced sharply up at me, almost comical in her disbelief.
"No, Tara, I'm not laughing at you. It's just, we're a screwed up pair, aren't we?" I rolled up my sleeves, displaying the latticework of cuts there. My left arm still had a bandage covering my latest one, the one I'd made only minutes before meeting her.
She didn't say anything, just traced the half-healed wounds gently.
"My story in a nutshell- I've been alone my entire life, couldn't take it anymore, cut myself for a while, then jumped off a cliff. Wiped out my existence in Sunnydale and got on the bus for LA this morning. Ow!" Tara jerked her hand back.
"Sorry." I barely heard her, clutching the arm to me. The light pressure on my newest cut seemed to trigger something. All of a sudden, my headache, forgotten until now, came rushing back.
"No, it's okay, just a headache, and some heat, and- oooh boy, that hurts." Lances of pain were shooting up my arm. Now Tara looked even more worried. Ignoring my protests, she pulled my arm to her and yanked off the bandage.
"OW! Trying to kill me? What's the- oh, crap." The cut from the bus was bright red, with red lines extending outwards. "That's not good, is it?"
She shook her head. "It's infected. We need to get you to a hospital."
"No! Hospital means records! They can find me with records! Don't let them find me, they'll bring me back. I don't want to go back, I want to stay with you!" I was losing coherency, the pain from my arm beginning to overwhelm me.Don't leave me! Don't make me go back. I don't want to be invisible again!
"All right, I think I can treat this. Not like I don't have enough practice." This last was mumbled, not for me to hear. I heard it anyway, filing it away to ask about later.
"Um, Tara? It's bad when the world goes black right?" She looked up, alarmed. "Thought so. Catch me?"
She jumped, grabbing me as I passed out. I saw her wince, clutching her side, and the last thing I heard was this: "Stay with me Willow! Fight, roşii frumoase."
I decided to wake up and ask her about that later. Right now, I was busy. The world went black.
"Oh, oww."
For the second time in as many weeks, I woke up in the hospital. Blinking groggily, I looked around. How'd I get here? This isn't typical Sunnydale décor. A flash of gold caught my eye. My head spun rapidly, searching for the source of the gold. I found it quickly.
Tara was sitting in a chair next to me. Well, slouching would be a better word. She was practically laying on my bed, with only her legs in the chair. Well, that explained how I got here. I shifted, trying to ease the ache in my legs that came from far too much time stationary. "Ow. Oh, fun."
"Huh? Willow? Oh, thank the Goddess! You're awake! How do you feel?" Oops. I hadn't meant to wake Tara up. Seemed like she needed rest.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. You should sleep more." I barely paused at that, and just jumped headfirst back into my babble. "What happened, how'd I get here, and how long have I been here? Oh, god, I didn't go into another coma, did I? Two comas in a week is bad. Even if I do feel better. Sore, but better." I knew I was babbling, but I couldn't seem to stop.
"No, Willow not a coma. Wait, when were you in a coma before? Nevermind, you've been in here for a couple hours. I brought you in when you passed out. You scared me, you know? Don't do that to me." She smiled at me, brave front and all, but I could see that underneath she had been seriously worried.
"Yeah, not something I plan on making a habit out of. So not worth the effort. Are you all right?" My sentence had started out flippantly, but changed at the end to something much more sincere. Tara looked like hell- this was the second time today I'd freaked her out by passing out. God, this was the second time today I'd freaked myself out! "Yep, no more passing out. I can do that."
Again she smiled, but this time it looked more real. I thought back over what had happened. "Okay, I remember being in the motel, and I showed you my cuts. You touched one, and it hurt. It was infected?" Off her nod I continued. "I felt awful, then everything started to fade to black. Last thing I remember is you. What did you call me?" I was genuinely curious. It hadn't sounded like any language I had heard before.
For some reason, she blushed. "Um, I said 'roşii frumoase'. It's Romanian, my mom's side of the family were all gypsies, so she taught me some things. I'm sorry about bringing you here, I know you didn't want to go, I just kinda panicked." Her attempt at changing the subject was not lost upon me.
"Good try. What does ro-, ros-, um, that phrase mean?" There was no way I was going to let this go. Guess she could see that.
"Beautiful red." She looked down, blushing again, then seemed to gather her courage and looked back up at me. There was a look in her eye that I couldn't decipher, but I could easily see fear and hope warring in her lovely azure eyes.
"That is… so sweet!" And it really was. No one ever cared enough to give me a nickname, let alone such a flattering one. "Hey, no fair! I don't speak another language, well except for some Spanish and a teeny bit of Latin."
She choked a laugh out, then started laughing uncontrollably. Before I could do anything other than sit up, her laughter had turned into sobs. I pulled her up to sit on the bed next to me and rocked her, her head buried in my chest as she cried. "Hey, hey, now, its all good, I'm okay, you're okay- you are okay?" She nodded. "Well then, nothing's gonna stop us from getting a newspaper and finding a place. Then we enroll in the high school here, graduate at the top of our class, and get a scholarship to a good school. See? Everything's fine."
I could only imagine what Tara must have been feeling. The entire day was an emotional roller-coaster. It was harsh on me, and I didn't have to deal with telling about my family's abuse, or having my new friend pass out- twice.
I rocked her, just letting her cry. The soothing words flowed out of me, and I stroked her hair gently. She needed this, it would help her. Then she really needed rest.
Tara sat up, awkwardly swiping at her tears. "You don't ask for much, do you?" I shook my head. "Well, that's good. I'm glad you're okay. You wanna get out of here?"
Do I ever. "Oh yeah." I swung out of bed, staggering as a wave of dizziness washed over me. "Urgh, head rush." Tara caught me before I could fall over. "We gotta stop doing this." I smiled up at her. She giggled, then I saw her eyes change. They darkened, turning from the cerulean I was used to into a deep sapphire that sparked a fluttering low in my stomach.
I took in our position, and gulped as I realized how close we were. Our faces were inches apart, so close we were breathing the same air. I could read her intent in her eyes, and it was reciprocated in me. At that moment I knew that it didn't matter if Tara was a girl, a guy, or a dancing bear, there was no way I wouldn't love her. Love?
My breath- and my thoughts- stopped as her head began to drop towards mine. She paused, and I could see the uncertainty in her eyes. Wanting to reassure her, as well as really wanting to kiss her, I pressed my head up and met her lips with my own.
It was unbelievable.
The instant our lips touched, my world exploded. All my senses were on overload, my heart was racing, and I could feel myself getting dizzy. I had never imagined a kiss could be this amazing. Of course, the doctor had to pick that exact moment to walk in.
The door swung open, thudding against the wall. We leapt apart as if burned, with me whacking into the bed. Thankfully, the doctor had his nose buried in a chart, and didn't notice our panting breath or the furious blushes decorating our faces.
"Ms. Rosenburg! Glad to see you're up and feeling better. I know you want to get out of here, and I can give you a clean bill of health. There's just a few forms you have to sign at the front when you leave, and a prescription to pick up, and you're good to go!" With that, he turned and left, not having looked up once. We could have made out the entire time he was there and I don't think he would have noticed.
I turned to Tara, wanting to talk about our aborted kiss, but she cut me off. "Your clothes are over there. W-we should probably get going, it would be nice to enroll before the break ends." Her stutter gave away her nervousness, and when I tried to take her arm, she flinched back.
Sighing, I set my clothes on the bed and stripped off the hospital gown. A choked noise from behind me made me turn. Tara was staring, her face flushed and eyes wide. It hit me that the girl who had just kissed me (well, I kissed her, but whatever) was now faced with me. Really close to naked. Well. That's awkward.
I cleared my throat softly, waiting for her to look at me. She blushed even harder and turned away, dropping her head. I threw the rest of my clothes on as fast as humanly possible and walked over to her. "Hey, you okay?"
She pulled away. "Yeah. You must be getting t-tired of asking me that, huh?" The blonde didn't even glance at me as she started to walk out, keeping her gaze firmly fastened on the floor. I was not having any of that.
"Tara, wait. Come back, please?" Reluctantly, she did as I asked, although her eyes stayed down.
"Uh-uh, look at me. What's up?" Finally, she brought her eyes to mine, and I was shocked to see how sad and tired they were.
"Nothing. Can w-we please go?" I would not let her avoid this forever, but I figured the middle of the hospital wasn't a good place for a confrontation. So we left, with me unabashedly staring at her the entire time, and her avoiding my eyes.
My eyes swept over her, taking in every little detail. She was beautiful, the most gorgeous creature I had ever seen. Even the bruises marring her skin didn't detract from that beauty.
Studying her now, though, I saw that she was tired and in pain. And really uncomfortable with me. Well, crap. I didn't mean to freak her out, I thought she wanted to kiss me! She started it, anyway. Nice, genius, sound like a five-year-old.