If I haven’t botched posting this, it is complete, but there may be a sequel.
Author: Garner
Email: Garner502@yahoo.com
Feedback: Yes, that way I don’t make the same mistakes twice and you (or someone else) won’t have to suffer through the same ones again.
Distribution: Wiccan Ways and Extraflamey so far.
Spoilers: Season 6 through Wrecked. If you haven’t seen Smashed or Wrecked this won’t make tons of sense.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: W/T?
Disclaimer: The characters are Joss Whedon’s and those involved with the show. I have no right to any of them and make no money on this whatsoever. No infringement is meant.
Summary: Holiday blues are rampant in Sunnydale, no one is happy, Willow tries to deal with Tara’s absence. This could be depressing?
Note: Written December 2001/January 2002.
First Christmas After
Willow woke up early Christmas morning. It was still dark out and the clock by the bed read 5:05 AM. Normally she wouldn’t be up for at least another three or four hours. She rolled on her back and tried to go back to sleep, but after a while she still didn’t feel comfortable and tried laying on her other side.
‘Christmas,’ she thought. ‘Always such a big deal for everyone else. Mom said it was just another patriarchal tool to enforce cultural homogeneity and ease the guilt for binge purchasing and that Hanukkah is the holiday that venerates the family.’
As a kid she remembered even those celebrations being pretty subdued. Not a lot of presents, cooking or fuss. Her parents were extra busy during the holiday and her mom invariably used the time to write new articles while she could. When she was older she sometimes thought about going over to Xander’s on Christmas eve, but he said his parents argued a lot and that wouldn’t have been much fun either. Hanukkah and Christmas had just been the period between school sessions when she could catch up on reading or go over the next year’s schoolwork ahead of time.
Except for the last two years of course. Tara had changed all that, made the holidays truly something to be looked forward to. Her family always had a tree, decorations and made a big deal out of the birth of Christ. As a witch even her mom had gotten into the celebrations, though for different reasons, of course. The last two years she and Tara had spent the day together and it had been wonderful. The altar to the goddess would have already been decorated from the Winter Solstice ritual of rebirth so they would use it for a ceremony that allowed their magic to flow together. They renewed their ties to each other and it really had been a day of celebration. To make things completely perfect they would make love that night. Slow and tender without rushing or the frenzy that sometimes drove them into each other’s arms. Just long lingering caresses and sensuous kisses with no thoughts of anything else.
She rolled back over onto her other side and pulled the blanket tighter around her. Tara wasn’t here and wouldn’t be. She missed being able to pull her closer to her. The feel of her head on her shoulder and the smell of her hair. Even the warmth of her body and the soft sound of her breathing seemed so natural, like they were always meant to be there. Her arm reached out to where Tara would have been laying but only a colder section of the sheets met her.
Willow turned onto her back with a flump. The blanket came loose and cold air snuck in the bottom of the bed cooling her feet. She lay there a moment and then moved onto her side, kicking her feet to get the blanket back over them. It sort of worked, but now she really wasn’t sleepy. Well, she was still tired, but she was also close to wide awake.
She spent the next hour or so twisting and turning and trying not to think about Tara. It didn’t work. She blamed herself for Tara leaving. If only she hadn’t been so stupid. If only she had listened to what Tara was saying. But she needed the magic. It made her feel like she belonged with Tara, like they had something special that no two others shared. And that was the stupidest part, they did have something none of the others had. A connection that went deeper than love and somehow she had managed to screw it all up. Maybe the connection hadn’t been that deep after all? Maybe it had been the magic, and now without it Tara would never come back. What would she do without her, if she never came back?
Finally, just as it was getting light, she did slip off into a light sleep, though her dreams were disturbed by images of Tara leaving her forever. Of her moving back to her family to care for them and suffer through their abuse which was at least better than being with her.
The alarm rang and Willow slowly got up, her stomach feeling unsettled and a vague impression of unease running through her mind. She couldn’t exactly recall what it was she had been dreaming about but it left her with a sense of loss and guilt. Slowly she got up and went off to the bathroom to wash and get ready for the day. She wasn’t sure why she bothered, but supposed she might as well get breakfast at least.
* * *
Buffy woke up with a start. Coarse fabric pressed on her and covered her. For a second she thought she saw silk lining above her and panic rose up, but then her eyes focused on the ceiling and she realized it was quite a ways above her. She wasn’t trapped in a tight coffin and there was plenty of space around her.
She threw off the covers and saw that the room was darker than it should have been. Her feet moved across the cold floor and she looked outside. Gray. No sun today, just a bunch of clouds covering everything, muting all the colors. It didn’t look like rain though, just a dismal day. She shrugged, ‘at least everything won’t be so bright, so grating.’ Sometimes when the sun shone brilliantly outside it seemed like the light cut right through her eyes and into her brain. It was so dazzling, highlighting the edges and distinctness of everything. It showed how separate it all was.
She gave the faint hint of a sigh expressing her displeasure and then turned to go to the bathroom. It really was pretty cold. What happened to the warmth? Why did it take so much energy just to move around? She supposed it really didn’t matter. Pretty soon there would be noises and voices to pound at her ears, to cascade through her head. At least now it was relatively quiet and the cold was just uncomfortable. But, wasn’t there something she was supposed to do? She felt like having either forgotten something or missed something important.
‘Whatever,’ she thought. ‘If it was that important I would have remembered it.’
The harsh sounds of Willow in the bathroom told her she was too late to get in there. Instead she put a robe over her sweats and T-shirt and headed downstairs. Maybe there would be something to do down there, something to distract her from the pain. No, that wouldn’t be the case would it? There would only be more pain there, familiar sights, anxieties, imperfections, peoples’ incessant demands. All manner of images would assail her and none would have any relief. Solve one problem it would be replaced by another, and another, and another.
For a moment she thought back to the time before she was brought back. To a time when everything really was perfect. She could almost remember the sensations, but her mind quickly recoiled from the memories. Each time she tried to recall what she had lost the sharpness of where she was crashed into her that much harder. Besides, the memories weren’t right anyway.
‘Dawn,’ she thought, before her mind could return to its previous track. ‘I should make Dawn breakfast.’
That decided she left her room and went downstairs. There the sight of Dawn sitting on the living room couch looking at the various colored boxes beneath the Christmas tree alight with its own blend of colors assaulted her.
‘Christmas, that’s it,’ she thought. ‘Why isn’t Giles here to help with this? Mom used to be the one who did all the decorations and cooking. He would know what should be done.’
Momentarily alarmed she wondered if she had even remembered to buy presents. But no, she had done that the weekend before. The garish boxes with all those corners gave mute testament to that. Wasn’t Christmas a holy day? Shouldn’t there be some relief at least for one day?
“Merry Christmas, Dawn,” she said. Apparently there wasn’t.
* * *
Dawn looked up from the tree as Buffy came slowly into the room. Her hair was still messed up from sleeping and she wore a tan robe over her gray sweats and shirt. She looked a bit disoriented, but that was true every morning.
“Merry Christmas, Dawn,” she said listlessly.
“Merry Christmas,” Dawn replied, though she didn’t mean it either.
It wasn’t fair, today should be the best day of the year, the best holiday, instead, it just seemed like any other day. She should be excited about opening presents and getting new stuff, but something was missing.
Normally Christmas morning started early, Mom would be up making cinnamon apple juice and pancakes. She always got special blueberry syrup and Mom would make fresh cookies for later in the day and she always got a couple of those too, right out of the oven, all hot and gooey. Dawn loved hanging around in the kitchen where is was warm and the smell of the cooking treats was like a favorite blanket that wrapped around you just right so you knew you were home and safe in your own bed.
Nothing was right this year. Dawn had been first to get up and downstairs was silent and empty. The kitchen cold and vacant with only a faint smell of dish soap present. She had come out to sit in the living room by the tree, but that didn’t’ help much either. Oh, the tree was the same, but the ornaments and lights were different. The old ones had been damaged in the basement flood from the burst pipes and had to be thrown out. She and Buffy had gone downtown to replace them, but none of those they found were exact matches. And besides, you couldn’t find the glitter diamond she had made in kindergarten or the angel of white tissue Buffy had made when she was in grade school. Both of those were missing from the tree and their absence just didn’t seem right.
She hadn’t even turned on the radio to listen to the Christmas music like she did while she talked with Mom in the kitchen, waiting for the food to get done. Sometimes they even sang along a little bit. But not too much because no-one wanted to be caught singing with their mother, especially not by an older sister.
She had hoped that Tara could be convinced to get up early and cook. She always seemed to like to do that, and she did make scrumptious pancakes. Besides, it was easy to get Tara to do stuff. All you had to do was look at her and act sort of sad and she would fold. Of course, it didn’t always work, but Dawn was certain it would have for Christmas morning. She had tried the look on her a few days ago, even added a bit of pouting and tried for near tears, she didn’t think that succeeded, but Tara said that she couldn’t come over for the holidays. That that time was for her and her family and she couldn’t intrude.
‘Humph,’ Dawn mentally sighed. ‘What she meant was that Willow would be here and she didn’t want to be here at the same time. What is wrong with Willow? How could she mess things up this bad? They are so perfect for each other, how stupid can she be? And then she thinks she can make it better by taking me to that awful place? It was like she was a whole different person, some skank on TV or something.’
She crossed her arms and glared at the tree, thinking that if she had magical powers she would turn both Willow and that Amy girl into rats like they deserved.
Buffy looked up from the cup of coffee she was drinking and said, “Don’t worry, Willow will be down in a little while and we can open presents.”
Dawn glared at her dense sister and wished for like the hundredth time that her mother was here. She wouldn’t have let the pipes burst, she wouldn’t have slept late, she wouldn’t let Christmas get ruined.
“I know,” Buffy said with forced cheerfulness, “we need breakfast. Who’s up for toast, juice and eggs?”
Dawn just groaned.
* * *
Tara lay alone on her right side in bed and winced as something hit the apartment wall and shattered. A male and female voice raised in anger could vaguely be heard. One was yelling something about being ungrateful and the other was screaming about thoughtless drunken oafs.
‘Goddess, can’t they just get along for one day,’ she thought. ‘Even my parents weren’t this bad.’
No, on Christmas both her father and brother had gone out of their way to try and be nice. It was a religious holiday after all. Once, when she was fourteen and just becoming a woman, Donnie had cornered her under some mistletoe and tried to kiss her. At the time she had been more surprised and shocked than anything else. She shuddered at the memory of his lips thrusting against hers with bruising force. Fortunately her mother had chanced upon them and that was one of the few times she had lost her temper. She threatened to curse Donnie so that he would only find men attractive and that if he ever touched another girl his penis would turn black and rot off. Tara thought it was a curse that would have done Anya proud. In any case it worked and Donnie had never bothered her like that again, though he did make up for it in other ways.
“Fucking whore!” Suddenly came clearly through the thin, stained walls followed by a screech and another loud bang which Tara hoped was their front door. She had moved out of the Summers’ house so quickly that she hadn’t been able to find a better apartment anywhere. Everything was full and even the dorms shut down for Christmas break. She should be able to get into them next semester. She didn’t have much choice about where to go. She knew no-one else in town. She couldn’t stay with Xander and Anya, Xander was Willow’s friend and that would have been too difficult. Giles was gone and Willow went to the Magic Box too often to stay there, even if they would have let her.
Something scuttled across the wall barely in the corner of her vision and she shuddered again and pulled the blanket closer around her. At least it was hers and helped her pretend she was somewhere where she belonged. Someplace safe, where the heat worked and the sink didn’t drip, where the roaches didn’t run loose during the day, and maybe even someplace where her Willow could be with her.
She sighed and held the edge of the blanket closer to her chin as she thought of Willow. Not like she had been lately, always made up, cavalierly using magic whenever the whim took her, evening acting bossier and more controlling than was her wont. No, that wasn’t her Willow. Her Willow was sweet and charming, she had adorable red hair that seemed to shimmer in the light and offset the most stunning emerald green eyes that Tara had ever seen. Eyes that had gazed into hers with love and affection clearly present for anyone to see, but directed just for her. Even when she felt a little down or acted stupid, Willow always knew how to kiss her just the right way, say the sweetest thing or even just silently touch her hand or arm and she would feel better. Like she had found a place where she truly belonged, where someone cared for her and she knew she was important to them and they were to her.
But her Willow was gone, replaced by a different Willow, one she recognized but didn’t. One who hung out with that Amy girl, and went out and did stuff with her instead. Goddess, could she have been replaced that quickly? Was the connection that she thought they both felt not really there in the first place? Were they spending Christmas together while she lay here alone?
A sudden weight landed on the bed next to her head making her start and draw back with a cry. An equally surprised black and white feline face looked back her, puzzled.
‘Well at least I’m not totally alone,’ she thought. ‘Miss Kitty is here to keep me company.’
She scooped the soft furred cat up and brought her under the covers with her.
“You should sleep in here with me where it’s warm,” she said out loud.
Miss Kitty responded by nestling against her chest in a warm purring ball whose volume increased as she stroked her. The blonde remembered how their cat had loved to jump up on the bed in the morning and sit on her and Willow as they snuggled together. Miss Kitty had loved to lay on Willow’s tummy and put her head on Tara’s side. They had thought it was so cute that they tried to lay together as long as possible in order not to disturb Queen Kitty. Instead she would slowly stroke Willow’s hair and bury her face in it.
Of course Miss Kitty wasn’t “theirs” anymore. Now she was just hers and Willow wouldn’t see all the cute things she did or the way she chased the new catnip mouse Tara had bought her.
A slight trail of tears slowly moistened the pillow unnoticed as Tara continued to think of what her Willow was missing.
* * *
Willow finally went downstairs after a long hot shower. Her mood hadn’t improved; she missed the flurry of activity Tara brought to the morning once they were both up and now their, no her, room just seemed empty and cold.
‘Well I’m used to being alone during the holidays,’ she thought. ‘Or at least I was, no biggie. Besides, Buffy and Dawn are both here and to them Christmas is a big deal. Just like it always was for Tara.’
She clamped down on that line of thought and instead turned to thinking about Dawn. Willow hoped she could make it up to her. She hadn’t meant to nearly get them killed, to injure her in a car crash. Thank the gods and goddesses that the broken arm hadn’t been more serious.
‘At least she doesn’t have the cast on anymore,’ Willow thought. Since that night Dawn had barely spoken to her though she had been trying to win back the teenager’s regard. Of course it hadn’t worked. She knew that Dawn blamed her for Tara leaving and somehow that made things worse. With one fell swoop she had alienated two people she cared very much about. She sighed and shook her head as she walked into the living room. Dawn and Buffy were sitting on the sofa with the remains of breakfast on the coffee table. Cups half full of hot chocolate sat beside the plates.
“Morning,” Willow tried to say with enthusiasm. “Happy Holidays and all that.”
Buffy looked back at her with the neutral expression she wore most of the time while Dawn looked ready to say something and then turned away with a faint “hmmph.”
Willow sat down in the seat across from the Summers girls and looked down at her feet unsure what to do or say. Suddenly the image of Tara with her blonde hair covering her face came to mind. Here she was doing the same thing. She had always thought Tara’s shyness was charming and cute. She had slowly moved beyond it, but who knew what the current situation might have done. Even her stutter had returned the few times she had seen her.
‘Goddess, I have really messed things ups,’ she thought guiltily.
Buffy came to her rescue by saying, “I think we should open some presents, don’t you?”
“Why bother, they’re probably just clothes anyway,” Dawn complained.
“I’m sure they’re all not,” Buffy replied. “This one is way to small to have clothes in it and it happens to be for you.”
She handed Dawn a small sized box which weighed a bit too much to be clothes, and then started through the rest of the packages beneath the tree.
‘At least I didn’t get Dawn clothes,’ Willow thought. Instead she had gotten a walkman CD player, something she was sure Dawn would like.
Xander and Anya had brought gifts over earlier and there were even a couple Giles had sent from England. Nearly all of them had been distributed when Buffy came across a small box wrapped in shiny silver and gold paper that had been tucked away in the back. She crawled out from under the tree with it clutched in her hand, and then read the small tag.
“Oh, this is for Willow...it’s from Tara,” she said and handed it to the redhead who took it gingerly.
“But, but I didn’t get her anything. I didn’t think...” she stammered.
Willow looked blurrily into the reflective paper. They had started using the silver and gold paper a year ago. It had been their own secret declaration, sort of a ritual of devotion. It meant each would give all the money in the world to the other, and when they threw the paper away it meant that each would rather have the other than any amount of wealth. Her hands shook a little as she continued to hold the box.
“I can’t...”
Buffy took the package from her and said, “here, let me help you.”
She ripped through the wrapping and tossed it in a ball to the floor. Inside was a small cardboard box. She opened it and a small ribbon of gold was exposed in a pile of tissue paper. Buffy pulled the band out revealing a gold necklace with a turquoise stone setting.
“How pretty,” she said without much feeling, unclasped it and then fastened it around Willow’s neck so the stone rested at the juncture of her collarbones.
Willow lightly touched the stone, the cold metal seeming to cut through her. She couldn’t believe Tara had actually gone ahead and bought the necklace, it was really expensive. It must have been just two or three months ago, sometime before Halloween when they had seen it in one of the department stores downtown. Willow had commented on how the unusually bright blue gem reminded her of Tara’s blue eyes, only not as beautiful, and that had been that. She blinked a couple of times and cleared her nose. Tara must have gone back and bought it a few days later. She seemed to remember her girlfriend going on some errand downtown while Willow was busy at school.
She couldn’t believe she had actually given it to her. And she hadn’t gotten anything for Tara. Well, that wasn’t exactly true; she had picked up a dress she knew the blonde wanted and had been looking at earlier in the summer. But it was nothing compared to this. And anyway, she didn’t even know where Tara was. She was probably alone somewhere, no family, no friends, doing what? Lying alone in bed maybe, waiting for the day to get over and the world to start back up again? Goddess she hoped not. How could she be responsible for causing the one she loved so much pain?
Tears threatened to come spilling out and she wiped her eyes. She vaguely heard Dawn complaining that there were no cookies this year and Buffy offering to make some.
“No, let me do it,” she said shakily. “You open your presents and I’ll, I’ll make them.”
She got up and headed swiftly into the kitchen before anyone could answer, or, if they did she didn’t hear them. She grabbed a tube of cookies from the refrigerator and turned on the stove. She tried to concentrate on laying the dough out on the sheet, but all she could think of was how much Tara enjoyed cooking and making things. It was no wonder her family wanted her to look after them, she was very good at it. She absentmindedly put the sheet in and turned the oven up so they would get done quicker and tried not to think of her missing lover.
Again it didn’t work and she sank to the floor tears finally rolling down her cheeks. She silently sobbed for what seemed like forever until she heard Buffy’s distant voice asking where she was and if everything was OK. She hastily wiped her cheeks and tried to get herself under control. After a moment she was at least calm enough to go back into the living room and join the others.
Dawn had a small pile of clothes along with a few CDs and the walkman sitting by her. Buffy was looking at a new pair of black boots. Her last pair had gotten ripped on some spiky demon.
“You still have a few to open,” Buffy stated pointing to several untouched boxes.
Willow opened her presents without paying much attention to them. She made the appropriate noises at the approximately right times, but neither Buffy nor Dawn seemed to be paying that much attention either.
While Willow looked at the new software Xander had gotten her for her laptop, Buffy sniffed and said, “What’s burning?”
“Damn!” Willow exclaimed. “Cookies.”
She rushed into he kitchen where a stream of smoke emerged from the oven. She turned on the oven fan, turned off the oven itself, and opened the door. More smoke rolled out from the black lumps that sat on the cookie sheet. Grabbing a mitt she lifted the whole mass into the sink and turned on the water. She started as the smoke detector outside the kitchen went off in a shrill wail.
Dawn and Buffy, who had followed Willow, went and opened the back door and the window to allow in some extra air.
“Oh well,” Buffy said. “I guess no cookies this year.”
“Yeah great, and now the whole house smells like smoke,” Dawn whined. “It’s supposed to smell like pancakes and chocolate and cookies.” She turned to Willow and continued, “Why don’t you just use some magic and fix everything?”
Willow was shocked by the vehemence in Dawn’s voice. She looked into the sink at her charred attempt at cooking and then back to the angry teen.
“I...I’m trying to not use magic anymore,” she said softly. “It’s what got you hurt before.”
“I remember,” Dawn said turning away and added as she went out onto the back porch, “God, why couldn’t you have left instead of Tara?”
Willow’s hands hung limply at her side as she tried to think of something to say. Dawn was right, it was her fault everything was ruined. It should have been her that left, at least then Tara wouldn’t be alone now and maybe Dawn would be happier.
“Will, she didn’t mean it,” Buffy said placing her arm on Willow’s shoulder. “I’ll go talk to her and find out what’s wrong.”
“No, she’s right. It’s all my fault.”
She ran out of the kitchen and upstairs to her room, but the empty bed there silently mocked her.
‘Oh Tara, I miss you so much. I need you. How could I be so stupid?’
She sat on the edge of the bed and miserably regarded her puffy eyed refection in the mirror over the dresser. Everything seemed to come crashing down on her like an avalanche. Nothing she had done in the last six months turned out right. First the fight with Tara which led to her getting caught by Glory and turned into a drooling idiot. Something Willow knew Tara especially feared. And yeah, she brought Tara’s mind back but it took so long and she probably didn’t even get that right. She had messed up with Buffy, ripped her out of heaven into a coffin six feet underground and now she felt like she was in Hell. And then she had done the unthinkable, she had cast a spell on Tara to alter her memory, and not even just once, but twice. And the second time hadn’t even worked right, but almost got everyone killed. And then she had taken Dawn to a magic crack house and almost gotten her killed. Everything really was her fault.
The reflection of the turquoise caught her eye as she looked up. Now she was just making things worse. Dawn hated her, Buffy didn’t really care, and Tara was all alone. Her head started shaking and she grabbed the necklace and threw it across the room. She didn’t deserve anything from Tara.
‘I’ll never get her back. She is right to have left me, I’m worthless. I never get anything right and would probably just hurt her more. Everyone would be better off without me.’
Slowly she got up and went over to the trunk that held her witchcraft supplies. She opened it and found her athame and tested the blade. It was still sharp.
She went into the bathroom and locked the door.
‘No-one will miss me. They’ll all be glad they don’t have to fix my mistakes. Maybe Tara will be able to look after Dawn. I wish I could hold her one last time, kiss her and see her smile. She’ll never smile at me again after what I did to her. She’ll probably hate me forever.’
She got in the tub and turned on the warm water. After a few moments it was the same temperature as the tears streaking her face. She thought of the feel of Tara’s silken hair between her fingers, the soft, round face and brilliant blue eyes. She recalled the happiness they had brought each other, and how much she had hurt her. She thought of how much she loved Tara, and wished she could project that to her one last time, even if she didn’t want it.
She held out her left arm and it hurt more than she expected but she barely noticed. All that mattered was the red flow of blood that slowly stained the water.
* * *
Spike stood outside the Summer’s house under one of the trees in the back. He held the black trench coat up above his head with one hand and between that and the thick low clouds, the sun barely affected him. He shouldn’t have been out here, but bullocks, it was Christmas after all, wasn’t it? Yeah, he could have waited till nightfall, but that wasn’t the same was it? He always remembered Christmas morning being important, and if he was going to give them the presents clutched in his other hand in the morning he really should get on with it, shouldn’t he? Just sneak in the back, leave them on the kitchen table and then out again. Niblet might enjoy seeing him, but he wasn’t so sure about the Slayer. No reason to ruin everyone’s holiday with a confrontation. In and out, that would be best.
The problem was, of course, that he did want to see the Slayer. See how she reacted to his gifts, though he could well imagine it. The pained expression that was muted from what it once had been. The statements of revulsion and never wanting anything he had ever touched. Maybe some hollow threats after that.
He had just about made up his mind to sneak in the back when the door and window opened. He smelt smoke on the air and was about to head in when Dawn came out saying, “God, why couldn’t you have left instead of Tara?”
She ran off the porch and pulled up short before running into him.
“So what are you doing here?” She asked. “Aren’t you done with stalking Buffy?”
“Now, now, no call to be nasty little bit,” he said. “You and your mates having a bit of a tiff, then?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes,” she replied and leaned over against the tree. “Why are adults so stupid? They always ruin everything.”
Spike turned and stepped further into the faint shadows. “So who’s got you in such a glum mood? Is it Red and her bird still squabbling?”
Dawn looked up in surprise and said, “how did you know?”
“We worked together all summer. It was obvious the two were like your what, suregate, parents.”
“Surrogate,” Dawn corrected.
“Yeah, that’s it, surrogate parents. Now they’ve split and you miss the blonde and you blame Red, am I right?”
“Well it’s all her fault. She chased Tara away somehow.” Dawn said kicking at large root. “And she was acting all weird, like a druggie or something.”
“A little intoxicated with the mojo was she?” He asked and she nodded. “The real question is what are you going to do about it then?”
Dawn stopped and looked up at the pale haired vampire, “Do, what am I supposed to do about it?”
“The way I see it, they had a fight, you want them back, so what are you going to do about it? You can whine and complain but that won’t solve a bloody thing. Or, you can try and get them together again. Act like little miss match maker or do whatever it takes to settle the ruffled feathers.”
“But I tried that at first but it didn’t help,” Dawn objected.
“Yeah, but you didn’t have me helping then,” Spike said and shifted as the coat slipped and his hand started smoking. “Let’s get inside, it’s easier to talk without holding a coat over your head.”
They went inside and found Buffy running the burnt cookies under the faucet, trying to stop the smoke. When she caught sight of Spike following Dawn in, a scowl crossed her face.
“What are you doing here?”
“Why does everyone treat me like the return of the Black Plague?” He asked while resettling his coat around his shoulders. “It just so happens that old Spike decided to bring a little Christmas cheer to the house. And not a moment too soon either, from the sound of things.”
“It’s because no one wants to see you,” Buffy began.
“Yeah, yeah and before you get into the ‘we don’t want anything from you’ routine just take them and I’ll be off,” Spike interrupted. “I was just going to leave them in the kitchen but you were all in here so I had to wait and then Niblet came out and almost ran right into me.”
The vampire handed a short tapered package wrapped in red paper to Dawn and a smaller, rectangular one in green to Buffy. The Slayer reluctantly took it, holding the gift like something that would burn her. Before her sister could object, Dawn ripped into hers. A blackened stake that looked like it had once been the handle of a baseball bat was revealed.
“Cool,” Dawn exclaimed.
“Great, now you’re giving my little sister weapons. And you wonder why we don’t want you around,” Buffy stated.
“Look, she’s almost sixteen and old enough to have some way of defending herself. You lot can’t always be around and there are way too many nasties in town. Besides, that’s not any old stake. It’s from the last Slayer I, um, killed.” Buffy crossed her arms and glared at Spike who continued. “When I took her coat it was in a sort of special stake sheathe, see right here.”
Spike opened the coat to show them four thin pockets on each side, all perfectly sized to hold a stake.
“Anyway, I kept it for some reason,” he faced Dawn, “and now it’s yours. It should remind you that anyone can die and that you always have to be careful.”
“Wow, thanks,” Dawn said. “I am keeping it, right?”
“Yes, fine,” Buffy replied. “So what’s this?”
“Open it and find out.”
She did as he said and discovered a small cell phone. She quirked an eyebrow at the vampire.
“I have one too, the number is programmed in yours. If you need to get a hold of me you can. Besides, you probably should have some way of keeping in contact with the rest of your Scoobie club.”
An odd look covered Buffy’s face and she was about to say something when Spike cut in, “Why do I smell blood?”
* * *
Spike walked out of the kitchen into the dining area and sniffed. The smell was stronger here, but still fairly faint. He moved into the living room, senses as open and alert as they could be with Buffy and Dawn following behind.
“It’s coming from upstairs, I think,” he finally announced.
“Willow’s up there,” Buffy said and ran upstairs.
She checked the witch’s room, but it was empty with no signs of a struggle save the necklace from Tara laying in the corner. She called out to her friend but got no answer.
“Over here,” Spike called.
She found him standing in the hallway standing outside the bathroom. The door was closed and locked when she checked. She called for Willow again and still got no answer. Worried over the lack of response she hit the door by the lock hard enough to force it open and rushed in.
Willow lay in the tub partially filled with red water. Blood flowed from a deep cut on her left wrist and stained her hand which was trying to hold a slippery black handled knife. Several shallow cuts on her right wrist attested to her attempts to make a deep slash there. Tears streamed down her face and she quickly turned her head away from the group as they came through the door.
“Keep away from me!” She shouted and swung the knife back towards them.
“Will, no, what have you done?” Buffy asked too shocked to act immediately.
“What’s happening?” Dawn asked from the back where she couldn’t see what was going on.
Spike brushed past Buffy and deftly took the knife Willow was flailing about. His vampire visage unconsciously came out as he tossed the slick blade back into the hallway. The smell of the blood on the air had him enormously hungry. It had been a long time since he had tasted human blood. He shook himself and his features morphed back to normal.
“Here now, none of that,” he said as he grabbed a towel and lifted Willow’s left hand above her head and clamped the towel over the wound. “Why would you want to go spilling all that lovely blood out where it can drive Spike crazy with hunger?”
Willow tried to turn away and free herself from the iron grip holding her, both shamed and embarrassed to have been caught, and suddenly furious that they had stopped her.
“Leave me be,” she sobbed wretchedly. “Why can’t you just let me die?”
Buffy shook off her shock and went to Willow’s side and pulled her out of the tub. Water and blood splashed onto the floor and there was a wet squelch from her jeans and boots.
“Oh my God, what’s wrong with her?” Dawn exclaimed.
“She had a little accident and cut herself, go call 911,” Buffy ordered.
“Accident my ass,” Spike said. “Red here tried to off herself. By the looks of things she didn’t lose that much blood. She should be fine after a couple days.”
“Why? Why would you do that?” Dawn demanded.
Willow started shaking and whimpered as Buffy hugged her while Spike kept the slashed wrist above her head.
“Call 911 anyway and get some paramedics over here,” Buffy finally said and a frantic Dawn ran for the phone.
Willow felt light headed and was losing feeling in her left hand. All she could think about was that she had messed this up too. She didn’t seem to be able to do anything right at all. At least Tara wasn’t here to see her like this.
“Don’t...don’t tell Tara. Please don’t let Dawn call her. She can’t see me, not like this. I, I want her to be here but not because of this. Please don’t let her see me,” Willow babbled between sobs abruptly feeling drained and weak.
“Let’s get her to her bed,” Buffy said and lifted the petite red-head’s feet off the ground.
Spike kept one hand locked around the towel and used the other to grab her sodden sweater. They carefully maneuvered her out of the bathroom and down the hall to her bed leaving a red watery trail behind them. They placed her on the bed and Buffy wrapped the blanket and spread around the now shivering witch.
“You better go and check on Niblet,” Spike said. “Make sure she doesn’t call Red’s bird and see how she’s taking it. If I recall she said some harsh things to Red when they parted.”
“You don't think...” Buffy began and, at a glance from the vampire, hurried downstairs after her sister.
Spike shook his head and wondered again how this lot had ever been able to stop him and Dru. Maybe the stodgy old watcher had been more useful than he had thought.
“Spike? What are you doing here?” Willow asked slurrily.
“Repaying a favor.”
“You know you could finally have me now,” she said and shook her arm. “I’m cut and bleeding and all you’d have to do is drink. It’d taste good wouldn’t it?”
Spike smiled for a second, but with none of the menacing gaze he used to show his victims. He slowly bent his head towards Willow’s arm. He used his teeth and free hand to tear off a dangling section of the towel and used it to wipe the tears off of Willows cheeks and the mucus from beneath her nose.
After a moment he said, “Nice play, but I’m not game. You stopped me from making the biggest mistake of my undead life, and I won’t let you do the same. Let me guess, you miss your lady, blame yourself for driving her off, feel she’ll never come back to you. Probably down on yourself for dragging Buffy back and getting the little bit hurt, am I right?”
Willow just nodded, amazed at the vampire’s insight.
“Well bullocks to all that! I’m not going to tell you it’ll get better or the pain hurts less with time, though that’s all true. No, if you’d let me dust myself in Xander’s basement I would have missed a few of the greatest nights I’ve ever had,” Spike moved around so he faced Willow, her wrist still firmly grasped in his hand. “I would have missed something I would never have thought possible at the time, and which I’ll probably never recapture again if I live for two hundred years. That’s the thing. You never know where the future will take you. You still love Tara?”
Willow nodded again and added, “As much as ever. I need her so badly.”
“From what I’ve seen she still feels the same. As a matter of fact I’ve never seen anyone so devoted to another, and I’ve been around for a while. You want her than you go and fight for her. You do whatever it takes to win her back. You crawl, you beg, you plead or you do whatever it is she wants, what she needs from you.”
“But...”
Spike shook his head and said forcefully, “No buts. You have nothing to lose. It can’t get much worse than now can it? You can always dust yourself later. So, now you do whatever is necessary. And if that fails, bloody hell, maybe you go find that mongrel you used to hang with and give it a go with him again. Whatever. As long as you’re still alive you’re ahead. Find whatever happiness you can. There’ll be something to live each day for even if you have to search for it.”
“So why did you try and, and dust yourself if you know so much?” Willow asked.
“Me? I was just wallowing in self-pity. Nasty hole to get into, didn’t see any way out of it, but that was because I wasn’t looking hard enough. I just gave up and let everyone else win. I mean, can you see me, a natural born scrapper, the big bad, letting stupid emotions get the best of me? Even your Slayer couldn’t permanently do that. I owe you a debt, and I always pay up. Now, no more of that right?”
Willow lay soaked in her own blood, her mind still worn from the emotional extremes she had been through, and realized she had never thought she would appreciate Spike’s presence like she did now. Maybe he was right and she had been a fool. She had had enough psyche to know that the books said suicide was just a cry for help. Maybe what she had needed was just a kick in the rear, someone to tell her it was OK to mess up and to continue on. She wanted Tara back more than anything else in the world, and it made no sense not to at least try. Besides, hadn’t she hurt Tara , Buffy and Dawn enough already without adding a holiday death to their burdens?
Spike saw the play of emotions on the redhead’s face and figured that he had at least gotten through to her enough that she wouldn’t likely be a danger to herself again in the near future. Actually, he hoped the bloody paramedics would get here already. The smell was driving him bloody insane with hunger. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could zip back into the bathroom for a little nip before anyone drained it or noticed what he was up to. Buffy probably wouldn’t stake him for that, would she?
Willow sighed, and wished again that Tara was with her. She wanted nothing more than to feel her arms around her and be able to drift off to sleep with her head nestled on her shoulder and her body pressed up against her. Spike was right about one thing at least. She loved Tara too much to let her leave without any attempt to win her back. To try and make up for the hurt she had caused.
As the paramedics were ushered upstairs and into the room in a bustle of commotion and activity, Willow finally felt grateful for something this holiday. Maybe she did have some hope after all.
.
