by NeverChosen » Fri Oct 23, 2009 11:09 pm
Missing
Chapter 6: Turning Point
Legal: I don't own the stories, concept, character designs, or anything else in BtVS. I own this story, but expect no financial gain from it.
Summary: Willow reacts to what she's just found out.
Thanks: People who critique!
“Oh my God. No.”
Even when she threw the cross, Willow had assumed she was wrong. That she was being paranoid- but it all had fit, she’d had to be sure, even thinking she couldn’t be right. Willow’s knees felt like they were going to give out from under her and she stumbled back against the wall, her face crumbling in disbelief.
“No.”
Tara was calmly dropping the necklace that the cross dangled from onto the side table, still smiling softly to herself as her face contorted into vampire ridges. She closed her eyes, incanting a few choice words. A yellow glow rippled outward from her, briefly lapping along the walls before dissipating.
“You can scream now, if you like. You won’t wake Dawnie-dearest.” Tara looked back at Willow almost invitingly, but when she didn’t produce the suggested scream, Tara continued in a more menacing air. “As long as we stay in here, nobody will hear a thing.”
Still not receiving an answer from the shocked redhead, Tara prowled forward, head lowered and golden eyes intent. Willow seemed to be trying to sink into the wall, her eyes still wide and unfocussed, “Aw. Come on. Where’s that cute Willow-babble?”
Tara placed one hand to either side of Willow, not letting her slide away, her eyes boring down intensely.
“Tara… no…” Willow’s voice was choked, pleading. “Why…”
“Hmmm. Oh, yeah.” With a sudden smile revealing momentarily the fangs therein she quipped, “I got bit.”
When Willow didn’t answer, just kept shaking her head, Tara continued,
“This is where we talk, reconcile, figure out where we stand, what to do from here, what has changed… a lot of complicated issues, heavy topics… but can we just skip to the part where you’re kissing me?” Tara’s half lidded eyes would have looked sultry in other circumstances, and she leaned forward slowly, tilting her head to claim Willow’s lips. This finally broke Willow’s stupor and she jerked violently to avoid the contact.
“GET AWAY FROM ME!!” Willow shoved this mockery of Tara back.
“But I just got here. And I thought you missed me.” The blonde looked amused and somehow disappointed at the same time as she retreated smoothly. Willow straightened up, getting a grip on herself.
“Get out of this house.” She spoke through gritted teeth, enunciating each word sharply, glaring at where she-who-wasn’t-Tara stood. If the vampire didn’t leave voluntarily she wasn’t sure what she would do, but it promised to be deadly.
“Is that what you really want?” Tara sat down, straddling a chair slowly, sadly. She balanced her chin on her hands where they rested against the chair back, letting her hair fall to cloak her face. As she spoke, the ridges of her brow softened back to her human features. “I mean, as I recall, Souled Tara was in the process of leaving you.”
That struck Willow harder than any blow the vampire could have offered. She shook her head, denying it. It’s a lie, it has to be. Tara was mad, but couples fight all the time. They cool off, they think things over. They still stay together, work things out. It had to be a lie. Tara was watching her closely and arched an incredulous eyebrow.
“You didn’t figure that one out yet? Even after our last little talk?”
“But- no. No. We were going to work things out. We-“
“That was your line. I think mine was more along the lines of ‘you raped my mind and thought you could get away with it’. Did you really think that was going to just be forgiven…” Tara’s mouth twisted sardonically, and as she spoke she reached over and picked up the stem of Lethe’s bramble from the little dish of potpourri beside her, twirling it between her fingers. “…and forgotten?”
“I don’t know. No. But, it wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be the end!”
“Sorry to burst your bubble, baby, but yes. It was. See, you made lil’ ol’ Tara feel something that she can’t accept in a relationship. Fear.” The vampire gestured with the bit of bramble as she lectured. “Fear of losing control over herself… You took away her will to fight when you made her forget your little spat. That- that is lower than Glory.”
Her voice lowered to a whisper, but a whisper that tore through Willow. “Glory may have taken her mind, but you? You took her free will. And love couldn’t take away that knowledge that you betrayed her trust in that most intimate way.”
Tara seemed to shake off the pain in her voice, as if rejecting that she was speaking of herself. She continued with scorn, “Hell, you should be glad she bothered to try to talk to you at all before she left. Ran away, really. Away from you.”
“Ran away?” It was easier to process the words when the vampire spoke of Tara as if it were someone else. The words hurt, but she could focus on them without falling into the abyss.
“Yes indeed. It wasn’t even the fear that convinced her, really- she’s gotten real good at living with fear over the years. No, this time she was a good little martyr. She was sacrificing her happiness to save her dearest Willow.”
“To… save me?”
“She wanted to stay. God, it was pitiful how badly. But she felt like she had to make you understand that magic was changing you into someone she didn’t want to be in love with.”
“Why are you telling me all this?!” Willow realized tears were running down her face and hated herself for showing weakness to this thing.
Tara looked up slightly, her forehead knotted uncertainly, just as it had so many times before, replying in a quiet voice filled with confusion, “I… still love you.”
“You’re a vampire- how can you love anything?!” Willow choked out.
“Beats me. Seems like I’d be happier just doing the whole grr routine.” Tara shot her an accusatory look, as if Willow were the one at fault, breaking the facade of being her old self and continuing matter-of-factly, “My sire told me I should just kill you. Get rid of old attachments, he said. Like it was no big deal.”
“I got off to a good start.” The vampire continued wryly. “The family was no problem- hell, I’d never have admitted it, but I wanted to hear them scream even before I was turned.”
“Your… sire…” Willow’s eyes hardened. Now there was a vampire that needed some serious slayage in the imminent future. Tara seemed to read her mind, smiling cruelly.
“Daddy? I doooooon’t think you want to tangle with him.” She tsked teasingly. “Buffy’d never forgive you, for starters.”
“Buffy?” Dread hit Willow like a brick to the stomach. Of course, only he could be so cruel. And she was right, this made everything much more complicated. “Angel- it was Angelus, wasn’t it.”
“Clever girl. He says hi, by the way. Well, in all honesty, he wanted me to talk to Buffy directly, but I have a little more sense of self preservation than he gives me credit for. I’m sure you’ll be chatting with her soon enough, anyway.” Tara cocked her head to the side, smiling suddenly. “Do you think I’ll merit a full Scooby meeting?”
She always was the level headed one. It made sense that she would make a level headed vampire. And she can still do magic. That makes her doubly dangerous. God, what can I do? Willow’s mind raced. Teleport her away? Then what? I can’t just leave her like this! While her thoughts spun in circles, Willow forced herself to keep talking. “So what happens now? You torture me? Kill me?”
“I could never hurt you.”
Willow set her jaw defiantly now, “No, you couldn’t.”
“I don’t mean it that way- I could knock your teeth out before you chanted a word, you know.” Tara said contemptuously. “My sire taught me that little trick. But… I can’t. I want to, and… I don’t…” She shook her head as if clearing it, then continued with more vehemence. “You gave me pain that I didn’t appreciate then, and just telling you the truth is giving you a little of that back. But really torture you and it turns into an objective situation- me; bad thing, you; good victim. Objectification would protect you from understanding what you really did. But at some point you are going to realize that until my soul departed, I couldn’t be with you… what does it say about you?”
God, it would be so much easier if she would just stay mocking and evil. This confusion that kept breaking through, it was too much of the old Tara. Willow’s love, her guiding light, her steady rock. No. She’s like Angelus. It has to be. She’s manipulating the feelings she knows I have, using them to torture me. Using me to get to Buffy somehow. It has to be.
Please let it be just that.
“You. Aren’t. Tara.”
“Then why do I remember being her?!” Tara cut her off. She growled in frustration, eyes turning gold momentarily, the wooden back of her chair creaking ominously under her tightening grip. She snarled, standing abruptly and turned, hurling her chair through the window in the same motion, sending glass everywhere. She stopped as suddenly as she had moved, her back to Willow, her hair falling to obscure her face as she seemed to compose herself. Her hands were clenched in white knuckled fists by her sides, trembling minutely.
Then, plaintively, almost too soft to hear, “Why do I remember being so totally in love with you?”
There was something in her voice that broke Willow’s heart. Something that was left of her Tara. Like when Glory had taken her mind away- there had been moments like this, when the Tara of old shone through just enough to cut Willow’s soul to the quick. Something real, that couldn’t be faked. After a long, still silence, Willow ventured out a hand.
“Tara- I…”
“DAWN?! Are you all right?!”
Spike’s voice shouted from the entryway with the sound of the front door slamming open hard enough to rattle the frame. Tara turned with a look of alarm, even as Willow did, pulling her hand back quickly from where she had started to reach out.
“He must’ve heard the window.” Willow’s eyes went wide.
“Damn- the spell only contained noise within the room.” Tara said through clenched teeth, her face vamping out, looking almost relieved at the interruption. She headed toward the hallway. Willow cut her off both physically and verbally.
“You have to get out of here.” Willow tried to pull Tara away from the door, discovering how very much harder it was to move her now that she was a vampire and didn’t want to be moved. “He’ll kill you.”
Tara growled defiantly at her, obviously intending to fight. Willow’s fear for what was left of her Tara overcame any fear of the vampire before her. With a gesture and the resulting magical push, she managed to propel Tara back. The vampire snarled angrily, but Willow hissed back at her, “Don’t be stupid, Tara, you know he’s a master vamp. He's managed to kill Slayers. You won’t stand a chance!”
Tara stopped, though her yellow eyes shone furiously and her hands worked as if wanting to rend something. She turned, quickly heading for the window. Spike’s boots thumped up the stairs and Willow moved toward the door, listening to the crunch of Tara’s shoes in the glass on the floor behind her. Hearing her jump out, Willow opened the door, hoping to mask the noise of Tara landing on the grass outside.
“Spike- it’s all right. Just me.” Her mind raced for a good excuse for the window. Suddenly possessed by the Queer Eye team and had to get rid of offending furniture? Yeah, right. I slipped? Not even she was that uncoordinated. A nasty demon! Wait, she just told Spike nothing was wrong… Uh. Come on Willow, there’s a prevailing theory out there that you’re smart or something- think faster!
“I heard the window from down the way. What happened?” Spike was sniffing the air, looking around behind her suspiciously. Willow hoped he couldn’t sense another vampire had been in the room. Hoped all he would smell was Tara, and assume it was normal. She groped for a believable story.
“I say again- what happened?” Spike’s eyes had landed on the glass and he brushed roughly past her into the room.
Dammit. There was only one thing he was going to believe, one thing that everybody seemed so very ready to believe. Even as resentment twisted in her chest, Willow lied, “I was just… casting a spell. I was, uh, too tired and i-it went all wonky and then Boom. Heh heh. Redecorating. I was just going to make sure I didn’t wake up Dawn before I got it all cleaned up.
Spike’s eyes narrowed, whether in suspicion or condemnation of the activity Willow had described, she wasn’t sure. She fiddled with her fingers under the scrutiny. He glanced once more at the window, then turned back out of the room.
“Spike?” The sleepy voice came from down the hall.
“Nothin to worry over, Bit. False alarm. Back to bed.” Spike shot one last annoyed glare back at Willow, who tried to look abashed even as she fumed. Why does he have to that believe so easily? My spells don’t do that anymore! Not for ages and ages! It was almost enough to make her wish she had told him the truth. Almost. But Tara, God, what to do about Tara?
Willow walked over to the window, murmuring a repair spell as she did. The glass shimmered, the pieces reconnecting in a fractal pattern of light, slowly collecting to reform in the window frame, whole again. If everyone weren’t so touchy about the magic thing, she could save Buffy a lot of financial worry from damage to the house. But if they felt happier doing it the hard way, let them. Tara would have been upset with her for the ‘unnecessary magic’ anyway.
Tara. Willow couldn’t believe that she had been turned. Of all people, why her? Why take the kindest, most honest, genuine person I’ve ever known? Why twist her into something that is our worst nightmare? Why now? Why did it have to be Angel? Angelus… Willow’s mouth tightened into a thin line. He’s not getting away with this. Buffy can’t stop me- without me there’s no more curses to turn to, no chance of restoring his soul and letting him ‘redeem’ himself in some half-assed attempt at playing the hero, only to turn back to his evil self again and lay waste to someone else’s heart.
The curse… if I use it on Tara I’m just condemning her to a life without real happiness. It’s a curse, not a cure- and there’s no guarantee that the gypsy curse would work on someone it wasn’t designed for. That’s why we never tried it on Spike… How could I do that to someone I love? What am I gonna do? Buffy will just want her slain- that’s what Slayers do, unless they happen to be in love with the murdering vamp. Tara…
Make it so she can’t kill- then she’ll be like Spike… no. Tara was smarter than Spike. I may be the more powerful of us magically, but she’s the knowledge-woman. Any spell- she’ll figure a way out of it eventually. And it will never be the real Tara- not without a soul.
Right. Work the problem. How could I get back Tara’s soul without the curse? There has to be a spell, something! How many weeks of research will it take, though? How much time do I have? And when I get my Tara back, what to do about the memory of being a vampire? Will she end up all broody or will she bounce back, like after Glory? Break it down- can’t get ahead that far or the problem is too complicated. Little pieces, one at a time. Find a cure or a new way to replace her soul. Then find her. Cast the spell. Then the rest can follow.
But how? There was nothing they knew, nothing in the books she knew, nothing online- they’d already done the ‘no stone unturned’ thing back in high school when Angel went evil the first time. Internet was a dead end on this topic- she had to look somewhere new then. Something that hadn’t been there in high school. Willow stepped up her pacing, scanning the room for ideas. Books- Tara’s magic books. No, wrong kind of magic. Also, there were less of them than she and Tara would have the others believe when they skipped out of the Magic Box research sessions. There’s a thought- the Magic Box. No, she’d at least scanned through pretty much every book in there at one time or another and something like resouling or curing vampirism would have stuck in her mind.
Wait. No. Willow realized. I haven’t seen every book.
In point of fact, there were quite a few books on the upper shelves that Giles kept for his own viewing only. Darkest magicks- she’d used them against Glory, the one that she’d ‘borrowed’. She’d brought Tara out of madness with them. She’d raised Buffy with their help. Even though she couldn’t deny that there was major badness in them, as long as she used them for the right thing…
“I have to find a way to save her.”
As she spoke to herself, Willow turned from the window, resolved. Her patrol bag, known by the others over the past summer as her Bag of Tricks, sat in the closet where it had been left, leaning against the ‘Boss of Us’ sign that they had given her. She grabbed it, throwing it over her shoulder. Without further ado she walked down stairs and strode out of the house, leaving the door standing ajar in her wake. She headed straight for the Magic Box. It was night, but God help anything that decided to attack her.
She almost wished they would.
.
