Days of Grace Chapter 05
CHAPTER FIVE:
Willow worked feverishly in the kitchen, washing dishes, scrubbing pans, anything to keep her from thinking of what was going on upstairs. The sink had never been so shiny, the cabinets so neat.
Two hours had passed since she’d left Tara. She’d eaten a quick, tasteless dinner. She had looked up hopefully as Dawn came down to fetch a tray with two bowls of soup and some sandwiches, but the girl had merely inclined her head at Willow before heading upstairs again.
The witch’s insides were churning in anxiety, not knowing how long to stay away or when it would be proper to try to check on the blonde. Assuming Tara wants to see me at all, she thought morosely. She knew Tara well enough to predict that the gentle witch would be horrified by what she’d done. What she has to find out about all over again.
What she’d forgotten was how innately understanding Tara was, how absolutely unafraid she was in the face of matters emotional. So she froze when Tara, snuggly wrapped in a long, fuzzy bathrobe that Willow had left hanging in the upstairs bathroom, walked into the kitchen. It hadn’t occurred to her that Tara would seek her out.
The woman’s dark blonde hair was wet, and her skin was flush from what must’ve been a warm shower. She carefully perched on a stool next to the counter. She watched the bustling redhead quietly for awhile. Then she asked, “Is it true? What Dawn said?”
Willow offered her a weak smile. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
The blue eyes remained somber. “You k-killed two people? T-tortured Warren? Fought Buffy and Mr. Giles? And how could you possibly think that ending the world would be a remotely good idea?”
“Um...I wasn’t really thinking at the time?” Willow tried. When Tara said nothing, she gave up all pretense at other activities. She braced herself against the kitchen sink, arms wrapped protectively around her torso. She had a hard time meeting Tara’s gaze so she didn’t.
“You threatened Dawn?” Tara spoke up again. “Willow, how could you?” How could you do that to Dawnie? When we swore we’d take care of her? When we were sisters and guardians to her?
As if she’d heard the unspoken accusation, Willow flinched. “I wasn’t going to hurt her, not really. I just wanted to scare her so she’d get out of my way. I...” She cringed at the feebleness of her own excuses. Just listen to yourself, Rosenberg. Who are you kidding here? Nothing could possibly justify what you did, and you know it.
Willow took a long, steadying breath, and forced herself to meet Tara’s steady blue eyes. “No excuses. I was angry, I lost control. I was ready to die for what I did,” she said matter-of-factly. “When Giles took me to England, I thought it was to kill me, and I accepted that. Instead, he introduced me to the coven, and they went Hogwarts on me. They taught me magic, not just the spells, but the philosophy, the way everything’s connected. I learned about Gaia, and Wicca as a belief and a way of life. These women, they’re incredible, Tara. I wish there was time for you to meet them. Only...of course they were scared of me.” She frowned. “I never did find out why they decided not to kill me. It would’ve been the easiest way.”
Tara shivered at the blunt narration. How can she stand there and discuss it so coldly, as if it didn’t matter whether she lived or died? “I’m glad they didn’t kill you, Willow.”
The hacker hung her head. Willow. Just Willow. No sweetie or honey, or any of the tiny endearments the blonde had used when she’d first woken. But then, it was no less than what she deserved. “Makes two of us.”
A heartbeat passed. “I’m starting to remember.”
“Remember? You mean everything that happened?”
“Not everything, bits and pieces. I think the shock of entering the physical world, I don’t know, threw me?” Tara mused. “Maybe I’m starting to recover, or maybe Dawn’s story jogged my memory. When Dawn told me how I d-died, and how the two of you brought me back, I wasn’t surprised. It felt...familiar.”
“That’s good. Not the dying part, but that your memory’s coming back,” Willow amended quickly. “You should rest. We have a few days, a fortnight according to the spell. I can start the research, if there’s any to be done,” she offered.
“There’s plenty.” Tara bit her lip worriedly. “Oh Willow, I d-don’t remember the spell! The one we’re supposed to do together to fix the seal...Dawn told me what I said, but outside of that...Oh Goddess, what are we going to do?”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Willow forgot her anxieties and circled around the counter to comfort the apprehensive witch. “We’ll find it, or you’ll remember. Tara, you’ve had a hard day. Passing from one world to another, it’s not exactly a walk in the park. Maybe you just need some time to, I don’t know, get used to it?”
She drew herself up, all-professional Scooby now that she had a problem to solve. “I bet our main problem’s going to be the sheer volume of material. ‘Coz this is the Hellmouth, right? Every watcher, slayer, seer and witch, not to mention the odd vampire or two, has probably written something about it. Even if it was just, `I was here, yay me.’ I wish there was some way we could, I dunno, Google the library. Except we’d still have trouble picking the keywords. I mean, if you just enter ‘Hellmouth’ you’d get thousands of hits. Maybe we could try ‘Hellmouth’ and ‘seal’ but I bet there’d still be hundreds...are you laughing at me?”
“A little,” Tara confessed, stifling a giggle but failing. “It’s been awhile since I heard you trying to go in five directions all at once.”
“You should stop me when I do that,” Willow said crossly.
Tara shook her head, a smile touching her lips. “Never.”
“Uh, right.” She hesitated. Oh to hell with it. “Tara...you have no idea how much I wish I could tell you that I didn’t do any of those things. I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t mean much, but I am.”
The blonde sighed. “I know. Or at least Dawn knows, and if she and the others forgave you then I can hardly...It’s just, it’s really hard to believe. I know you. In a million years, you’d never -”
Willow shut her eyes. “But I did.” Never the easy way. But then I guess I stopped deserving easy a long time ago. “Tara, look at me. Read me the way only you can.”
“Willow?”
“Do it.” Her voice grew firm as her green gaze locked with blue. “When you woke up, you noticed the physical changes first. It’s been years since you...passed. But right before I left, you felt it, didn’t you? You’ve always been the sensitive. You can sense auras and energies. What do you see in me now?”
“Traces of darkness,” Tara whispered. “Veins of purple-black in your aura.”
“Then you know. Your senses are telling you that it’s true. Believe it. I’ve killed. I’ve caused a tremendous amount of pain.” Her eyes dropped to the empty space between them. “I’m not the Willow you knew.” Or loved. She had hoped to escape this, but the gaps in Tara’s memory had made this outcome inevitable. This is part of the price you pay for what you’ve done.
But Tara was also noticing other differences in the redhead, how warily she carried herself, the stiff set of her shoulders, the way her gaze constantly shifted and lowered. It brought home the point that this wasn’t the lighthearted college student she remembered. But then, this wasn’t the reckless Willow who had blithely abused magic either.
Tara realized with a pang that she barely knew this Willow, who was so quick to condemn herself. Of course, there had been shades of this uncertainty in the very beginning, when they’d first met, but the Willow she had known for the most part was a woman who was growing in confidence and power, and was take charge when needed. Except...a memory came to her, of a night when a claustrophobic Anya had heaped abuse upon abuse on a strangely mute redhead. How Willow had not even moved when the former vengeance demon had rounded on her, and how the tirade had stopped only when Tara had stepped between the two, and defended Willow herself.
“It’s not the only change,” Tara offered after awhile. “There used to be a mottled green-gray streak that was probably your addiction. It’s gone, Willow, and there’s a band of gold and white in your aura so bright that it’s almost blinding. Dawn told me...there are Slayers now, not just Buffy and Faith? You touched the Goddess when you made them, didn’t you?” Her voice hushed. Channeling that kind of pure magic was an experience only a handful of witches were privy to.
Since she had her ex-lover’s permission, she continued to read her. “There’s a strong unity in the way your energy flows, too. You’re emanating such a lot of power, but it’s stable. You have more magic than I’ve ever seen in any one person, but it’s all under control. How are you doing that?” she asked, clearly amazed.
“Oh you know,” Willow answered lightly, cheered by Tara’s revelation. “Healthy living. Exercise. Lots of wholesome, organic foods. And not using magic unless I have to, and definitely not for everyday things, because someone once told me that that’s not what magic is for.”
The words filled the blonde witch with warmth. “You remember that?”
“I remember everything about you. I used to write it down,” Willow reminded her.
“Do you still keep a journal?” Tara asked. Perhaps Willow would let her to read it. It would be one way to find out what had happened since she’d gone and, more importantly, it would let her get to know the redhead all over again.
But Willow was shaking her head. “After...there was no point after.” She had started the journal after Buffy’s mother had died, because it had suddenly struck her how all moments were fleeting, and she didn’t want to forget the moments she spent with Tara. But losing her lover - that was the last thing she wanted to remember.
Tara looked like she was about to say something else, but before she could, Willow deliberately switched topics. “So what do you want to do...well, not today because it’s getting pretty late, but tomorrow? Aside from getting plenty of rest.”
“I was thinking,” Tara said hesitantly, “maybe some shopping?” She saw the redhead’s surprise. “I know it sounds strange, but-”
“No, no, it’s completely understandable,” Willow denied immediately. “I mean, I’d go shopping the first chance I’d get, too. It’s not like there’re malls in the Summerland. Buffy, Xander and I, we were talking about going to the new mall after fighting the First. It’s totally not strange.”
“I need to get some clothes,” Tara explained. “I can’t go around in a robe and a nightgown all day.”
“Oh. Actually that’s not a problem. I bought some stuff,” Willow revealed, “and kept a couple of things. So you’ve got some new clothes, towels, toothbrush, sleepwear, that sort of thing. I figured you’d need them. They should be good for a few days. Come to think of it, there should be something down here. Now where’d I put...”
Tara curiously followed the redhead into the living room. Trust my organized gal to think of everything, she thought fondly, wondering where the hacker had found the time.
Willow opened the small closet near the entrance to the house and handed her something.
“My leather trench coat! You kept this?” Tara held the garment up in delight.
“It’s a little worn but it’s clean. I um, I use it sometimes,” Willow said awkwardly. “Most of your other stuff was lost in the Sunnydale implosion, but this one I had with me. It’s...what you were wearing when you came back to me.”
“I remember,” Tara said softly. She held the long coat against her. “Thank you, Willow.”
“Not a problem,” Willow returned. The image of the blonde hugging the coat was doing funny things to her insides. Unbidden, an image rose in her mind - Tara and she trading wild, hungry kisses as her fingers hooked into the coat and slipped it from her lover’s curvy body. She swallowed and hid her twitchy fingers behind her back. “I’m going to turn in soon I think. Do you need anything?”
Tara shook her head. “It looks like you took care of everything. Oh, just...where am I sleeping?”
“In the room where you woke, if you like,” Willow offered. “Your stuff’s already in there, but if you want to switch rooms, that’s fine too.”
“But isn’t that your room?” the blonde objected.
“Only when I’m here, which isn’t often. It’s okay, my aunt won’t mind if I take hers. She’s on a Mediterranean cruise, she won’t be back for weeks. Dawn’s got the guest room, so it all works out.” Willow hesitated. “Have I mentioned yet how glad I am that you’re back? Even if it’s just temporary, I...” She felt tears pooling in her eyes, and stopped herself.
“I never left you, Willow.” Even with her scant memory, Tara knew that it was true. She couldn’t imagine it being otherwise. She brushed her hand gently against the redhead’s cheek, feeling the delicate skin under her fingers. “Even when you couldn’t see me.” Her heart sped up - something I have to get used to again - and suddenly she thought, why are we sleeping in separate rooms?
It was followed closely by the realization that what she wanted more than anything was to feel the comforting warmth of her lover - former lover, Tara, years have passed, remember? - cradling her on her first night back, and to wake next to her in the morning. But she wasn’t going to push. “G-good night? And thank you for bringing me,” there was a sudden, strong impulse to say ‘home’ that surprised her, “...back.”
“Good night, Tara. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Just saying those words, being able to say them again, brought an incredible rush of joy to Willow.
“Tomorrow,” Tara agreed warmly. Impulsively, she kissed Willow on the cheek before making her way upstairs. Although she was disappointed that the redhead hadn’t made a move to change their sleeping arrangements, the smile on her face was enough for now.
Willow barely stopped herself from running after the blonde, and asking her to...What, sleep with you? Ask to join her in her room? Presume much? She stayed rooted on the spot for several minutes. She raised her hand to the cheek where Tara had kissed her. Her normally busy mind was devoid of everything except for a couple of thoughts. One was: Tomorrow, and all the feelings that came with that one, simple notion. The other was: Dear Gaia, how am I going to do this? How am I going to find the strength to stay away from her?