Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Tara Maclay/Willow Rosenberg - Acceptance
Title: Acceptance
Author/Artist: dr_silverrose
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Tara Maclay/Willow Rosenberg
Rating: G
Request/Prompt: "We lose the certain things, while we seek the uncertain ones."
Contains: Morbidity.
Word Count: 555
Notes: This was really, very grim. I hope no one minds-- I blame my cold.
No, it really hadn’t taken Tara Maclay very long at all to come to the realisation that something had gone terribly wrong and, because of that, somewhere down the line things had gone sour. At first she had forced herself to ignore it-how could she possibly do otherwise?
Her very first girlfriend, no, her very first love; why jeopardise such a precious thing on a silly, small gut feeling. So she did like her mother before her and buried the pain down deep inside her heart, willing all fears and doubts away.
But this false peace was never going to last forever. Eventually, even the others began to notice something was not quite right in their perfect little ‘Scooby Gang’. Isn’t Willow acting strange? She seems so wound up, strung out; hectic, frazzled, unaware, tense...you name it. No one can ignore things forever and the symphony of curiosity and well meant questions rising up to a crescendo had finally forced her to act.
“It’s not you, it’s me.”
And that was it. Their relationship was over, the love was gone, the first and last person to ever bring her joy she had turned away...the warmth rescinded and the comfortable, cloying web of friendships on which she had begun, cautiously, to rely were gone, fizzing away like so many spilt pop rocks in the summer rain.
Was it really any surprise to anyone that she met her end soon after? Tara Maclay: a poignant Public Service Announcement about the dangers of addiction.
And now, in death, she watches, from afar, as Willow picks the pieces back up and moves on. A small part of her enjoyed that black night of revenge, enjoyed knowing that, with her death, she could finally have the undivided attention and love from Willow that she had seen fade so soon in life.
In death, all uncertainty is stripped away. One’s self-doubt and self-loathing, too, can be scrutinised, examined and then gotten past-discarded like so much detritus, peeled off even as the worms are peeling away your body’s skin. And so, the very moment she took her last breath, Tara began to free herself...
“No, Willow’s addiction wasn’t my fault. I did everything I could for her...for us. I was a good girlfriend, a good person and, although I wish I had thought to speak to her sooner, I’m glad I did what I did when I did.”
“I have worth. People were friends with me because of me, not Willow.”
“I’m not angry at my family. I’m not angry at Willow...I’m not even angry at Warren. I can forgive everyone of everything.”
“I’m...okay.”
So, with understanding comes peace and then, with peace comes happiness. She looks down upon the world, upon Sunnydale and, with a disconnected sort of twinge, sees now and then the troubles that her friends and former companions are still muddling through.
She sees the failures and the triumphs, the joys and the sorrows and realises, finally, that all things have their place.
She senses Willow’s growth, her strength and her healing and is...pleased, in so far as one can be pleased here.
From death comes new life.
From that stifling cocoon of complacency, of pretence and pretending, one simple act...
“It’s not me. It’s you.”
...one dive into the unknown, can make all the difference.
Author/Artist: dr_silverrose
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Tara Maclay/Willow Rosenberg
Rating: G
Request/Prompt: "We lose the certain things, while we seek the uncertain ones."
Contains: Morbidity.
Word Count: 555
Notes: This was really, very grim. I hope no one minds-- I blame my cold.
No, it really hadn’t taken Tara Maclay very long at all to come to the realisation that something had gone terribly wrong and, because of that, somewhere down the line things had gone sour. At first she had forced herself to ignore it-how could she possibly do otherwise?
Her very first girlfriend, no, her very first love; why jeopardise such a precious thing on a silly, small gut feeling. So she did like her mother before her and buried the pain down deep inside her heart, willing all fears and doubts away.
But this false peace was never going to last forever. Eventually, even the others began to notice something was not quite right in their perfect little ‘Scooby Gang’. Isn’t Willow acting strange? She seems so wound up, strung out; hectic, frazzled, unaware, tense...you name it. No one can ignore things forever and the symphony of curiosity and well meant questions rising up to a crescendo had finally forced her to act.
“It’s not you, it’s me.”
And that was it. Their relationship was over, the love was gone, the first and last person to ever bring her joy she had turned away...the warmth rescinded and the comfortable, cloying web of friendships on which she had begun, cautiously, to rely were gone, fizzing away like so many spilt pop rocks in the summer rain.
Was it really any surprise to anyone that she met her end soon after? Tara Maclay: a poignant Public Service Announcement about the dangers of addiction.
And now, in death, she watches, from afar, as Willow picks the pieces back up and moves on. A small part of her enjoyed that black night of revenge, enjoyed knowing that, with her death, she could finally have the undivided attention and love from Willow that she had seen fade so soon in life.
In death, all uncertainty is stripped away. One’s self-doubt and self-loathing, too, can be scrutinised, examined and then gotten past-discarded like so much detritus, peeled off even as the worms are peeling away your body’s skin. And so, the very moment she took her last breath, Tara began to free herself...
“No, Willow’s addiction wasn’t my fault. I did everything I could for her...for us. I was a good girlfriend, a good person and, although I wish I had thought to speak to her sooner, I’m glad I did what I did when I did.”
“I have worth. People were friends with me because of me, not Willow.”
“I’m not angry at my family. I’m not angry at Willow...I’m not even angry at Warren. I can forgive everyone of everything.”
“I’m...okay.”
So, with understanding comes peace and then, with peace comes happiness. She looks down upon the world, upon Sunnydale and, with a disconnected sort of twinge, sees now and then the troubles that her friends and former companions are still muddling through.
She sees the failures and the triumphs, the joys and the sorrows and realises, finally, that all things have their place.
She senses Willow’s growth, her strength and her healing and is...pleased, in so far as one can be pleased here.
From death comes new life.
From that stifling cocoon of complacency, of pretence and pretending, one simple act...
“It’s not me. It’s you.”
...one dive into the unknown, can make all the difference.