Feedback is golden and it’s read, treasured and often used! Heartfelt thanks! 
Title: How I Met Your Mother*
Author: Ariel
Email:
blaziak@yahoo.com Feedback: All feedback welcomed, specific input appreciated, harsh on me via PM
Rating: PG for kid camper cuteness and W/T love! Ratings will change depending on content.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, but I love to take them for a ride!
Summary: A/U before season 1, the summer after Willow's freshman year with a large dose of Queen Cordelia at her bitchy best and teen-aged angst.
Thoughts are in italics.*no connection to the sit-com of the same name
Mouse’s face was twisted in pain and she had both hands on her tummy.
Willow knelt, eye to eye with their littlest camper. “What’s wrong, Mouse?”
Mouse’s big brown eyes were creased with misery, “I’m drunk.”
Tara’s jaw actually dropped, “You’re what?”
Mouse nodded, “Drunk. My mommy ‘splained it to me. It’s when you drink too much and get sick and I had lots and lots of that red punch and now I’m sick.” She cuddled closer to Willow, unconsciously imitating her favorite counselor, “I feel blecchy.”
Part 59: AwakeningsTara had changed into her usual jeans, work shirt and cowboy boots when Willow called Veronica and Mouse back into the room. Tara beckoned Mouse closer, “Wait,” she sat on the bed, “Mouse come here, stand right in front of me.” Mouse obeyed and looked curiously at Tara to see what would come next. “Good, now take a big, deep breath and breathe it out right in my face.”
Mouse looked worried, “What if I barf?”
Tara offered a slightly anxious smile. “Please try not to.”
Mouse nodded seriously.
Tara managed a convincing smile, “Now take a big huge deep breath!”
Mouse smiled slightly, it sounded like a game. She took a big breath and puffed out her cheeks. “I’m a big balloon!” She frowned, “Uh oh! I went and lost all my breaths!”
Tara smiled, “Try again, Sweetie, but breathe first and then talk. Okay, big breath!” Tara inhaled deeply and Mouse imitated her, and then breathed out into Tara’s face. She grinned at Tara, “Did I do it good?”
Tara kissed her forehead. “You did it just right!” She smiled in relief at Willow, “No smell of alcohol, none at all.”
Willow’s eyes widened, “Tara! You thought that—“
“I had to check it out, but it seems like just a tummy ache. Still, talk to the nurse, okay?”
Willow nodded, slid off the bed and took Mouse’s hand. Mouse smiled up at Willow and they were gone.
Tara turned to Veronica, “Come outside with me.” Tara lifted up her borrowed dress, folding it tenderly over her arm “And we can take this back to Jennilee, too.”
Veronica nodded agreeably, relieved that Mouse was being taken care of, and the two left, returned the dress, and ended up helping Jennilee, Rose, and the other 11 year olds with cleaning up the yard as the dance ended.
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The nurse had taken Willow and Mouse to her office, done an exam and pronounced Mouse in good health except for over-indulgence in red punch and cookies. She lifted Mouse off her examination table and set the little girl on her feet where Mouse kept her feet still, but twisted from side to side, never taking her eyes off the phone on the desk.
Willow smiled. “What is it, Mouse?”
Mouse blinked up at Willow, “Please, pretty pretty please. Can I call my Mommy?”
Willow offered her own version of a pleading look to the nurse, who smiled tiredly, “Normally I’d say ‘no’ but a tummy-ache warrants an exception.” She and Willow exchanged smiles as she brought her phone over and set it on the edge of the desk for Mouse to use. Mouse thrust her tongue in her cheek as an aid to concentration, then stabbed awkwardly at the numbers with her index finger. She held the receiver towards Willow, eyes shining with excitement, “It’s ringing!”
A lovely musical voice spoke, “Hello--”
Mouse’s face was joyful, “Mommy! Mommy, it’s Bethy!”
“This is Audrey Lianne—“
Mouse clutched the receiver, her face suddenly anxious. “I miss you! I miss you, Mommy! Come get me! I feel bad! Please come get me!”
But the recorded message went on, smoothly and brightly while Mouse’s pleas became increasingly desperate until the message ended and the little girl was sobbing, the phone still clutched in two sweating hands.
Willow wrapped her arms around Mouse tightly while Mouse clung to her, face buried in Willow’s shoulder.
The nurse’s glance was sympathetic. “It’s harder for some children than others and the end of camp is usually a tough transition.” She reached out a gentle hand to pat Mouse’s back, then smiled at Willow. “Hugs are usually the best medicine. Here, you two can sit out in the waiting area until Mouse feels better and I’ll lock up the exam room. Just lock the front door behind yourselves on your way out.” Willow carried Mouse out to the small waiting area and the nurse locked the exam room, made sure they didn’t need anything and left.
Willow held Mouse until the little girl went from sobs to hiccups and finally to slow hitching breaths. She felt the little girl’s hands, holding tightly onto the back of her shirt while her shoulder was damp with tears. Mouse’s nose had been running and the little girl was unconsciously rubbing her nose on Willow’s shirt, but none of that mattered. This damp little bundle of misery, was
her bundle and Willow rocked Mouse in her arms and kissed the top of her head.
Mouse’s breathing was still uneven and she spoke into Willow’s shoulder, “Will my - my Mommy come soon?”
Willow swallowed a lump in her throat. “Pretty soon, definitely soon-ish.”
“When Lisa’s Mommy and Kate’s Mommy and the other Mommies come?”
“A little later,” Willow’s voice caught, “you’re going to stay for one more session like Veronica.”
Mouse’s voice was a hurt whine, “but I want her now!” She snuffled and wiped her nose along the back of her wrist, “Please make her come for me, Willow! Please!”
Willow gave her a squeeze. “I can’t. I want to, I really do, but I can’t. I don’t know where she is. I know you two love each other a lot, but Tara and I love you, too. We’re sorry about your Mom, but we’re glad you’re our Mouse for camp.”
Mouse didn’t seem to hear her. “Do you think Mommy will like the necklace I made her?”
“Sure she will. She’ll say, ‘This is beautiful and my little girl made it for me’!”
Mouse sat up on Willow’s lap, blinking up into her counselor’s face. “She’ll say that?”
Willow spoke confidently, “Mommies love what their kids make.”
Mouse nodded, a tiny smile playing on her lips, “She puts all my drawings in the very best place on the fridge!”
Willow gave her a special hug, “Well, that proves it! Is there something else you want to do for your Mommy when she comes?”
Mouse’s eyes lit up. “I want to ride!” She pouted, “Faith put me on Dolly, but I’ve never gotten to say ‘giddy-up’ and make her go.” She tugged on Willow’s shirt, “Teach me to ride! Teach me right now!” She grinned, now tugging on Willow’s shirt with two hands. “Please, Willow! Teach me now!”
“Uh, well the stables are kind of closed and—“
Mouse’s lower lip dropped and her eyes looked close to overflowing again.
“Wait! You can ride me! A Willow-horse!”
Mouse was stubborn. “You don’t have a saddle.”
“But we’ll make reins and I’ll teach you everything about how to make a horse go!”
“Everything?” Mouse was suddenly enchanted with the possibilities. “Okay! You can be my magic horsey!”
Willow grinned, shrugged off her sweat shirt and tied the sleeves together. She grinned inwardly at how easily she could parrot Tara’s riding instructions to the new riders while Mouse listened seriously and bounced with excitement.
“Okay, now you mount from the left side, so grab the saddle horn—okay, grab my shoulders and mount up!” Mouse climbed aboard, her legs wrapped around Willow’s waist with the ‘reins’ in her hand and the other part of the sweatshirt in Willow’s mouth. Then Willow pulled the ‘bit’ out of her mouth briefly to give instructions on steering and they were off with a wild but muffled Willow whinny and Mouse’s excited shrieks. Willow walked, trotted, cantered and galloped until she was breathless and threatening to choke on her sweatshirt. Then she quizzed Mouse on proper steering techniques and they finished with a very proud little girl and a very tired horse. A few minutes afterwards Willow caught her breath and walked hand in hand with Mouse to brush teeth and get ready for bed.
A little while later a sleepy Mouse was tucked into bed and Willow walked slowly through the doorway, stood swaying at the bottom of their bed and fell face down onto the mattress without changing. She was asleep less than three minutes later.
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Tara straightened with a sigh and wiped the perspiration off her forehead, staring at the full garbage bag she was dragging in her hand.
Rose Zepeda matched her sigh and Jennilee arched her back, clearly finding some relief after having bent over so many times to pick up trash. “Lord, I felt like I was a prisoner on the chain gang for—“
Suddenly a Devola sized streak pelted around a corner and ran smack into Tara and sent her staggering into Rose and Jennilee. For a moment the three counselors stumbled crazily around, almost falling, but caught themselves at last without incident. Then Towanda and Connie followed and sent them spinning while Bettina finished them off by knocking all three of the big girls flat on their butts. Devola meanwhile was eagerly picking up trash that she had scattered from the bag.
A second later Mrs. Finch rounded the corner, huffing like an asthmatic tuba player. “Where – are – they,” she gasped, swaying in place while bracing her hands on her knees and bending over to suck in more air.
Tara blinked, stalling for time while they got back to their feet. “W-where are who?”
“Them! Those girls! They snuck - into my office – decorated it – with my underwear! Hung – all over – panties – brassieres and feminine hygiene—“ Her voice failed and she concentrating on breathing while her purple face turned to a slightly less alarming shade.
Then she spotted Devola and collared her, “You! It has to be you!” Her eyes glittered feverishly, “It’s always you!”
Devola shrugged, blinked in apparently innocent confusion and held up a piece of garbage in her hand. “I’ve been here forever, busting my hump cleaning this dump.” She grinned, “Hey it rhymes! Get it? Hump and dump!” She looked quickly at her panting friends, “And they’ve been right with me the whole time!”
Mrs. Finch stared at the three counselors who exchanged the nearly indiscernible glances of prisoners in the presence of the warden. Rose spoke first, “Yes and they have been so helpful!”
Jennilee grinned, enjoying her role as accomplice to anarchy, “Yes, Ma’am. These girls have worked like nothing I’ve ever seen before!”
Tara grinned back at her friend, appreciating Jennilee’s ingenious truth-telling and nodded vigorously.
Mrs. Finch offered a sour stare at them all then stumped off in search of fresh victims.
Rose beckoned the miscreants closer, then looked closely at Devola. “You owe us, Chika. Am I right?”
Devola nodded vigorously. “Uh huh, if it hadn’t been for you guys, we would’ve been breaking rocks at Tehachapi!”
Rose laughed out loud at Humphrey Bogart’s line coming out of the mouth of a small girl. “All right then.” She grinned and offered her full garbage bag. “Haul all these bags to the dumpster for us and we’re even.”
Devola was about to experiment with an attempt of weaseling, but Towanda shot her a look and grabbed the bag. A moment later the others followed and began the first of four trips to the dumpster behind the kitchen while Tara and Veronica walked back and forth with them and lent a hand.
On the way back to their cabin they ran into Debbie, Kate and Lisa and they trooped back silently, each absorbed in her own thoughts.
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Tara walked in first, saw Willow asleep on their bed and put her finger to her lips. Each girl excitedly relayed the signal to the girl behind her and they snuck past Willow in best sneaking form; some with claws extended, others gliding from spot to spot, while others went on tiptoe. Tara gave whispered instructions that teeth brushing was suspended for this one night and most of the girls were excited, considering it a fun part of the night’s adventures.
Tara then tucked them into bed, offering each girl her preferred good night gesture, then closed the door behind her and managed to lodge the chair under the knob securely. Then she turned and allowed her gaze to linger caressingly on Willow. She smiled tenderly, then moved dreamily to the drawer and pulled out their candle. A moment later Willow lay, still asleep, but bathed in the warm glow of candlelight.
Tara sat down carefully beside her; feeling suddenly that Willow must not wake up. At first she enjoyed the tangled sunset of Willow’s hair across the bedspread. She hesitated, then allowed herself to stroke the long tendrils, twining the ends around her fingers and bringing them up slowly to her lips. Then she followed the ivory curve of Willow’s cheek turned sideways. She leaned in, breathless at the sight of Willow’s mouth, rosy lips half-pouting while she heard the adorable sound of a tiny snore that made her bend down and lay a soft kiss on Willow’s temple.
I’ll guard your sleep, Sweetie. I promise, no enemy, no nightmare, nothing will wake you up.Then she moved to the end of the bed and carefully slid Willow’s shoes and socks off. Willow murmured and Tara froze, then continued when Willow settled back into sleep and slowly freed her legs from her pants. Tara steeled herself to awaken her sleeping beauty, but Willow was too exhausted to do much more than groan, drop a kiss in the direction of Tara’s ear, and climb awkwardly under the covers before falling back asleep. Then Tara climbed in beside her, nudging Willow against the wall so that she could remain on the outside of the bed and handle any emergency requests from the kids. The sound of Willow’s deep breathing soothed her and Tara flung an arm around Willow’s waist and spooned her from the back, burying her nose in the top of Willow’s head and falling into a contented sleep.
It wasn’t sunrise, more the cold gray promise of sun to come, when Tara heard a soft knocking at their door from the kids’ room and Mouse’s tense whisper, “I hafta go potty!” She smiled, whispered an assurance that she was awake and let Mouse in. Then took her hand and led her out the cabin door, happy to leave Willow sleeping peacefully.
*******************************************
A few moments later Willow jerked upright at the familiar cry from the next room, the bedspread sliding down her chest.
Mouse! Another nightmare. She looked at the empty bed, believed that Tara must have gone to the bathroom. Then she flung off the covers and noticed that the chair hadn’t been put in place. She shook her head as if to clear her sleep-blurred brain and hurried to Veronica’s bed, the one that she and Mouse often shared.
“Bad dream, Mouse? S’okay, how ‘bout a hug?”
Oddly enough the sound of frightened breathing got louder.
She leaned in and saw a pair of scared eyes blinking back at her and saw a little face lower in shame and then stare at the bedspread. It was Veronica and she was alone in the bed.
For an instant Willow stood frozen with surprise, then she reached her hand out and patted Veronica’s shoulder.
Veronica looked up then looked away but she bumped her shoulder against Willow’s outstretched palm and let herself be led into the counselors’ room and sat down on the bed next to Willow. Then she hunched her shoulders and stared sullenly at the floor.
“Veronica, you’re going all quiet-girl on me. What are you waiting for?”
Veronica tensed, “For you to call me a liar because I let you think Mouse had the nightmares ‘stead of me.” Instead she felt Willow’s arm slide around her shoulders and pull her closer. The unexpected kindness took her off guard and she found herself gulping and beginning to cry just as Tara and Mouse walked in.
Tara smiled, seeing that Willow was awake. “Mouse feels much—“
“Veronica!” Mouse climbed up on the bed at the other side of her friend and hugged her hard. “Did you have a bad dream?”
Veronica nodded, then the love in her friend’s hug undid her and she sobbed against Willow while Mouse did her best to comfort her.
Willow’s voice was quiet, “But Mouse, you had bad dreams before Veronica came to camp.”
Mouse nodded, “Then they went away and Veronica got them.”
Veronica spoke, her voice muffled with her face against Willow’s shoulder. “She came, the very first day I woke up here.” Her voice caught, “She came to, to h-hug me and I, and I yelled at her. M-made her cry.” Veronica’s voice broke.
Mouse tried to rock her friend like Willow had rocked her. “It’s okay, Veronica. I’m not mad.” She looked up at Willow and Tara. “See, we take turns being Big Sister. Veronica’s Big Sister in the day time and she takes care of me.” She gave her friend another hug. “But at night I’m Big Sister and I take care of her.”
Tara nodded and leaned over to rub Veronica’s back with slow warm circles. “I have nightmares sometimes and Willow hugs me tight.” Her voice softened, “I understand about nightmares, Veronica.” She swallowed, “I really do.”
Willow’s head snapped up. She remembered their conversation about Veronica’s family and now was the perfect time to find out the truth. “Tara, tuck Mouse in bed, okay? Then watch the kids and let me stay with Veronica.”
Tara met her eyes and felt a flash of fear. “Oh-okay.” She helped Mouse climb down off the cot and walked her into the other room while Willow offered Veronica another reassuring squeeze.
“Veronica, are your bad dreams about your dad hitting you?”
Veronica raised her head, a look of utter confusion on her face, “My Dad?” She rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands, “What did you say?”
Willow suddenly felt foolish, but was determined to find out the truth for Veronica’s sake. “Your Dad,” she asked gently, “does he hit you?”
Veronica’s face went from confusion to anger, “No! He’s never hit me! He’s never even spanked me!”
Willow tried to re-organize her thoughts, “Uh, what about your Mom?”
“She’s dead.” Veronica said shortly, “I told you! And she never hit me, none of my step-moms hit me or my Dad’s dates or anyone else in our family!”
Willow met the little girl’s angry eyes with a look of concern. “Veronica, be completely honest with me right now. Is anyone in your family hitting you? Like a cousin or an aunt or an uncle? Is a teacher or a coach or other kids hitting you?”
There was the barest flicker of hesitation but Veronica met her eyes and her voice was definite. “No one in my family hits me, no friends or coaches or anything like that!” She remained tense for a long moment then she drew a deep, shuddering breath and let herself lean against Willow, the closest she could come to asking for a hug.
Willow held her again, patted her comfortingly, but her mind was racing.
Tara! What did she say? Willow shut her eyes and thought hard as she tried to remember everything; the time of day, what Tara was wearing, the terror on her face . . .
It’s her! It’s her Dad, hitting her, scaring her half to death! It’s Tara! Tears were burning in her eyes, her whole body tensed so that Veronica tensed in response and Willow forced herself to relax and continue the reassuring hug.
I’d raise my hand fast and she’d flinch and look scared because he hit her, hit her across the face, and she couldn’t tell me, was too scared to tell me. Then she remembered their conversation in the computer room, Tara’s pain over Wendy and her mother being split up and her anger over Willow’s apparent indifference to the situation. All the pieces fit, every last one of them and Willow felt suddenly sick as if she’d swallowed poison.
A few moments later she heard the doorknob turning from the kids’ room and saw Tara slip quietly into their room. “Mouse is almost asleep, she asked me to tuck her into Veronica’s bed.” Then she stepped closer and saw the look on Willow’s face. “W-what’s wrong?”
Willow swallowed, gave Veronica a last squeeze. “Can you go back to bed now, Veronica?”
The little girl nodded against her then stood up, looking both very small and very dignified as she walked by. Then a tiny smile appeared on her face; she knew that Mouse was waiting for her and that she wouldn’t be alone.
Then Tara followed her and tucked her back into bed, smoothing the hair away from her forehead to make room for a goodnight kiss.
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Willow sat on the edge of the bed, watching her fingers curl and uncurl, marveling at the play of bone, tendon, ligament and muscle; how smoothly they worked together to make this movement possible.
He hits herIn the carpal tunnel, there was the median nerve surrounded by the nine flexor tendons, they were set in a sort of bone pan with the transverse carpal ligament lying—
and scares her--across the tendons. In carpal tunnel surgery, the transverse carpal ligament was cut—
until she jerks away and hides and he’s breaking her heart, cutting her off from everyone.--cut to relieve the swelling of the tendons pressing against the median nerve and—
I wanna get him! Her tears gave her no relief this time, they burned in her eyes, something noxious and corrosive.
Kill him! A vision of Tara being driven down to the darkness until that precious part of her spirit that made her Tara was crushed and mutilated into a dead-eyed acquiescence to evil’s might . Willow’s features hardened into something that was beyond ‘resolve face’, a mask of determination, a frozen loathing at what was right in front of her a rage that he would do it to Tara and that Tara would accept it. She suddenly saw her hands, fingers still curling and uncurling. She took a deep, shaking breath and curled her hands deliberately into fists.
But that isn’t happening any more. I’m getting her out of there. I’ll do anything, everything it takes, to get her out of there! But even then there was a desperate child inside her begging for someone to say it wasn’t true. That all the evil was in history books and all the horror was in movies. She realized, with a poignant sense of loss that a part of her had still believed that the good guys always won.
Tara walked back into her and Willow’s room, a tender smile on her face as she closed the door to the kids’ room and fumbled with putting the chair under the knob. The chair kept slipping off to the side and Willow suddenly strode over from the bed, nudged Tara out of the way with her hip, and jammed the chair back under the knob. She met Tara’s eyes, her voice more harsh than she’d meant it to be.
“We need to talk.”
Just want to comment on what a great job you did bringing tension into this update. I've been reading up on that and how there should be tension in every scene no matter what, and you pulled that off perfectly here. You provided us with something more than just lovin'. There was frustration, awkwardness, and overall disappointment by Finch's and the kids no-so-perfect timing. 
at Willow's exclamation. Must admit though Tara's breasts must make everything tastier.
earlier she essentially told Tara that she wasn't good enough for Willow, now shes telling her that Willow is too young to be her friend. Aren't they roughly about the same age? I think on the show there was only a year between them and what does she mean 'protect that precious innocence', Willow's a high school student not an infant. Damn but this just makes me so 
trying to run other peoples lives for them when she can't even control what actually happens in the camp. Ok rant over.
This last chapter had me laughing out loud 
But I do feel bad for them, they just can't seem to get a moment of uninterrupted time together unless they're sleeping and even then... How in the frilly heck do they manage to have kids later?? lol Anyway, I loved how you turned a potentially disastrous incident into something completely hilarious. The deal with Willow and the dress had me 
On to the now!
again 
)
I need you!
because Mouse believes so fervently that her mom will come for her and I seriously doubt that she will. I may be wrong but still... 
