So, I had every intention of writing a vignette tonight - and I had >no< intention of starting this fic. But *sigh* ... it's what popped into my head and asked to be written, so here it is. I'm expecting to NOT update with anything resembling the regularity of 'Answering Darkness' ... probably once a week if it's a good week. Less frequently if it's a bad week.
So, here it is, the start of 'Lingering Darkness', the sequel to 'Answering Darkness'. And, uhhh... you might want to read that one first, as this will make little sense if you don't.
Title: Lingering Darkness Prologue – Of Scoobies and Hell Gods
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to
pink_overalls@yahoo.com Summary: A Scooby Meeting Recap of AD.
Spoiler Warning: Up to and including "Tabula Rasa" in Season 6 and for the previous story, ‘Answering Darkness’.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. The stories all mine, though.
Rating: PG-13
Notes: For the purpose of this story, all events of Tabula Rasa took place exactly as shown in the series; however, all subsequent events appear in the story ‘Answering Darkness’. This story picks up where the previous one left off.
Lingering Darkness Prologue – Of Scoobies and Hell Gods
By Sassette
“They’ll be right down,” Buffy said, casting one look back at the stairway. She couldn’t quite shake the lingering feeling of guilt and fear regarding all the things Willow and Tara had just gone through. She was the Slayer – it was her job to fight the battles - to face the evils of the world – and yet … and yet she had been on the sidelines, watching, practically the whole time.
With a little huff of air, she sat down on the couch next to Dawn, her gaze falling on the assembled group. It was a strange gathering, really, but oddly familiar – old faces and new, sitting together. Giles and Wesley were next to each other, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, their heads bent together as they discussed things that would probably make her head hurt. Xander and Anya were cuddled together on the chair, while the odd combination of Spike and Gunn stood together nearby, talking about battles and weapons.
Angel, predictably, was standing silently in the corner, just watching the group with steady dark eyes.
“Were they naked?” Anya asked after a moment, waiting until she heard footsteps on the stairs and knew that Willow and Tara would hear her question. As predicted, everyone just looked at her, their expressions ranging from shock to amusement, with a little hint of annoyance thrown in. Someone, she figured, had to break up the tension a little. It really might as well be her.
“Ahn, hon …” Xander said slowly, hugging her close. “What did we decide about voicing these questions?”
“>You<,” Anya said emphatically, poking Xander square in the middle of the chest, “decided that I should keep these questions to myself. But if I keep them to myself, how will I ever get an answer?”
“No, we were not naked,” Tara said softly, a slight smile crossing her face as she looked at her friend. All eyes in the room turned to her, and for just a moment, she felt the old familiar urge to drop her head and try to hide. But these were her friends – her family – and Willow’s warm hand in hers gave her the strength to look around the room, her gaze steady and sure.
“But not from lack of trying,” Willow muttered in an undertone, a wry look on her face. She had been fully prepared to try for Round ‘I Lost Count’, but Buffy’s soft knock on the door had brought an end to the smoochie snugglies, and Willow and Tara had emerged from their room for the first time that day, except for that one stop to grab snacks, but as they’d been mostly naked at the time, Willow decided it didn’t really count.
Tara shot Willow an amused look, squeezing her hand gently, her thumb brushing across her knuckles.
“You two didn’t really go to school, did you?” Dawn asked suspiciously, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Willow and Tara.
“If they didn’t, that’s their business,” Buffy said firmly. “They’re adults, so they’re allowed to make those decisions. Truant officers don’t show up at their door asking their sisters where they’ve been.”
“Hey – I’ve been really good about going to school,” Dawn said defensively.
“And besides … they went through Hell last night. Literally,” Buffy added, her face pulling into a frown as she looked at her friends.
“Do they even have truant officers anymore?” Xander asked lightly. “I thought it was just phone calls from the principal, or the regular old police.”
“As fascinating as California’s policy for dealing with truancy is, I believe we’ve all gathered her tonight for a purpose,” Giles put in before everyone got completely off-topic. “Shall we begin?”
“The sooner we start, the sooner we’re done,” Tara whispered to Willow, seeing the reluctant look on her face. They hadn’t talked about what they had gone through yet … they had, in fact, been avoiding the subject all day.
“You’re right,” Willow said with a little nod, letting Tara lead her completely into the room. Dawn and Buffy scooted over on the couch, and they sat down as close together as they could manage without being in each other’s laps, their hands still firmly clasped together.
“I’m, umm … not sure where to start,” Tara confessed with a sheepish expression on her face, glancing at everyone, then looking down. Images flashed in her mind of everything she and Willow had gone through, her breath catching in her throat and her eyes drifting shut, a wince crossing over her features.
“Hey,” Willow said softly, bumping Tara’s shoulder gently with her own. “It’s over. We made it.”
“Yeah, it’s just …” Tara began, a helpless look on her face as she tried to find the words.
“I know,” Willow said, a mirthless smile curving the corner of her lips, an unreadable expression in her eyes.
“Perhaps we could start at the beginning?” Wesley offered up tentatively. In a way, standing here next to Giles, he felt every inch the bumbling idiot he knew now he had been when they met. So full of himself and his training, he had completely overlooked the value of experience, hiding behind his pompous certainty and, frankly, making an ass of himself. He knew he had grown – had changed – but here, in Sunnydale, amidst this group of people, he suddenly felt as though he hadn’t changed at all.
“That is probably a good idea,” Giles allowed, glancing worriedly at Willow and Tara. They were looking at each other – just looking – for all the world like each of them expected the other to disappear at any moment, as if their survival were some sort of wonderful dream, and they would awaken back to a harsh reality at any moment. “We’ve, well … we’ve already filled them in on everything we knew up until you both entered the Hellmouth,” Giles said tentatively, looking over at Willow and Tara.
“And just how did you do that, anyway?” Anya finally asked, realizing that no one was going to ask the questions they were all thinking anyway. “I mean, mortals can’t just walk through the Hellmouth, survive Hell, encounter Hellgods, then walk back. It just doesn’t happen.”
No one bothered to reprimand Anya, but they shifted uncomfortably in their seats, torn between their intense curiosity about what had gone on and their reluctance to make Willow and Tara relive the experience.
“You don’t … you don’t have to talk about it,” Buffy finally said after a moment as Willow and Tara remained silent. “I mean, you two are all right. You survived. How isn’t all that important.”
“No, it’s … it’s all right,” Tara said, taking a deep breath. “I, umm … remember when Dawn cast that spell?” she asked, looking around the room. She frowned a little, her eyes drifting half-shut as she mentally kicked herself, already starting to sketch out a detail she had meant to leave vague. There was no way she was going to let Dawn know that she had let the Construct out – no way she was going to let Dawn feel guilty about it. “W-when I, umm… when I contained her energy, some of it was left over. In my system,” she explained. “And she’s the key, so I just kind of … I used it to let me get through.”
“Yo – I got a question,” Gunn said, his hand drifting into the air. “Just why were you walking into Hell to begin with? I’m a little unclear on that part.”
“I, umm … I thought that, uhh … W-willow was there,” Tara said softly, an embarrassed look crossing her face.
“Awww, isn’t that just the sweetest thing?” Gunn murmured, nodding. Sweet, or maybe crazy. He really wasn’t sure. It was hard to tell with Angel’s friends.
“So, I, umm… I went in, and I found the Trickster,” Tara went on, her gaze growing distant as she remembered the fire and the wind, and the screams. She wasn’t sure she would ever forget the screams. Every eye in the room was on her, but she didn’t notice them, nothing but the warm feel of Willow next to her keeping her anchored to the present, softening the memory of the horrors she had witnessed. “I was, umm … I was really stupid,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “I almost let him out,” she confessed.
“Baby, you had no way of knowing,” Willow said firmly. “That wasn’t your fault.”
“How?” Tara said, turning her eyes to Willow. “How was it not my fault? I knew it was wrong. It was dark magick, and I almost … I –“ she said, her voice catching in her throat.
“But you didn’t,” Willow said, lifting her free hand to brush her fingertips against Tara’s cheek, a soft smile crossing her face when Tara leaned into the touch. “You didn’t.”
“I was going to,” Tara said, shaking her head. “If … If it weren’t for …”
“Shhh,” Willow soothed, pulling Tara into a hug, both of them oblivious to the group of people around them, who all suddenly found other things to look at. “So, umm … I showed up,” Willow said, taking up the story and letting Tara’s head rest against her shoulder, stroking her hair softly. “And you all saw how Spike helped me through the Hellmouth. Then I went to find Tara,” she went on, frowning as she remembered the water and the earth, the faces of the drowning souls, and the eerie moans of those buried. “I, umm,” she said, licking suddenly dry lips, her shoulders tightening. “I did some thinking, and I, uhh … I figured it out.”
“Figured what out?” Giles prompted after a long moment, trying to give Willow some time to pull herself together.
“All of it,” Willow said in a whisper, her eyes seemingly locked on nothing as she remembered the revelation and the all-consuming urgency to get to Tara that it had caused. Willow took a deep steadying breath before saying one word, knowing it would get a reaction from all her friends. “Glory.”
“What? That skank bitch?” Buffy blurted out, forgetting to censor her language around Dawn.
“What about Glory?” Xander asked, his eyes wide. “I mean … we … ummm … she’s dead. Like, ‘Ding Dong the Witch is Dead’, and I represent the Lollipop Guild, and much happy yellow-brick-roading.”
“G-Glory?” Dawn asked, a look of complete and utter shock on her face, that quickly gave way to all-consuming fear and guilt. “No. No! She’s… dead. Xander’s right. We saw – she’s dead. She can’t …”
“Dawn, it’s okay,” Buffy said, putting an arm around her sister’s shoulder and squeezing gently. “It’s okay. It is okay, right?” she said, turning to look at Willow.
“She can’t hurt us,” Tara said, finally composing herself and lifting her head, turning to give a reassuring look to Dawn. “It’s all right, Dawn.”
“But … but, she’s dead. How can she be in this story if she’s dead?” Dawn asked helplessly, looking around the room for confirmation that Glory was really gone for good, but finding none as everyone wore equal looks of surprise and unease, their eyes turned to Willow and Tara.
“She’s, umm … she’s not dead,” Willow said. “But she’s stuck in Hell,” she quickly added. “It’s not like she’s back – she’s gone, she’s just … alive. But in Hell. Definitely in Hell. I mentioned she can’t hurt us, right?”
“Actually, I think I mentioned that,” Tara murmured.
“Oh, right,” Willow said, nodding. “Tara’s absolutely right. She can’t hurt us.”
“She can’t?” Dawn asked slowly.
“She’s in Hell. She’s not here,” Buffy said. “You’re okay, and she’s not going to hurt you, all right?”
“All right,” Dawn said, taking a deep breath and pulling herself together. The Glory thing was over and done with, and she had to trust in Willow and Tara – had to trust in Buffy to keep her safe – and she found that this trust came easily. What worried her was the idea that everyone would forget to keep themselves safe because they were too busy trying to keep >her< safe.
“But how?” Giles finally asked, clearing his throat. He remembered all too vividly the way he had smothered Ben to keep Glory’s evil from hurting his loved ones again, and the idea that this gesture had been completely in vain struck him to the core.
“It’s my fault,” Willow said shakily. “When I returned Tara to herself, Glory figured out the Trickster was the source of my power and assumed he had a plan, so she transferred some of herself into Tara.”
“She kind of, umm … hitched a ride,” Tara said weakly.
“Your flashbacks?” Giles hazarded a guess, inwardly berating himself for not doing more when Tara had come to him with the problem – for not realizing the seriousness of the visions. He should have known – he should have done something – anything – more.
Tara nodded. “And, umm … my, uhh, shadow,” she said.
“Of course,” Giles breathed, his eyes drifting shut as the pieces clicked into place. It made perfect sense, and he should have realized it before.
“But baby, it wasn’t your fault,” Tara said, looking back at Willow. “You saved me. Don’t ever doubt that. Don’t ever second-guess it. You saved me,” she said, repeating the phrase with an intensity in her voice that broke through Willow’s guilt.
Willow regarded Tara carefully, noticing the significant look in her eye. There was more to this story somewhere, and Willow suspected what it was. Tara had never really talked about what it had been like, hiding behind a vague answer of ‘I don’t remember’ whenever Willow had tried to draw her out and make her talk about it. So consumed with trying to keep the world safe without Buffy, Willow had let the matter drop, and now she wished she hadn’t. Maybe Tara needed to talk about it, and maybe Willow needed to understand exactly what she had saved Tara from, because the look Tara was giving her said it was worth the price.
“So then what happened?” Anya asked. She understood that this was very hard for Willow and Tara, but she wished they’d get on with it. She wanted to know, and really, it would be better for them to just spit it out, like ripping off a band-aid: it hurt worse than pulling it slowly, but then it was over fast and faded quickly.
“I, umm … I did that, uhhh… the dark magick,” Tara said. “But doing the ritual freed Glory, so I never finished the spell.”
“I showed up just in time to see the change,” Willow said with a little shrug, a bitter smile on her face. “Guess I’m not always punctual, huh?”
“Willow, it wasn’t your fault,” Tara said. “And everything worked out. If we changed anything – if any one thing had been different – the ending might have been different, too. And I like this ending,” she said, finishing on a whisper.
“So, umm,” Willow said, her voice hoarse as she tried to press on and finish the story. “Glory took over, and she and the Trickster sort of … started in on each other. Then she started turning back into Tara, and they did this kind of back and forth thingy. And then I, umm … I kind of, uhhh…” Willow said, her voice trailing off. “I sort of kicked Glory out of Tara?” she went on, her voice rising uncertainly.
“You told her to get the hell out of your girlfriend,” Tara said wryly, a proud look crossing her face.
“Wow, that took balls,” Gunn said. “In the, uhh, purely metaphoric sense,” he added hastily when everyone in the room looked at him.
“Wait,” Wesley said, holding up a hand. “If you, umm … defeated … Glory, then – you have power over her,” he said slowly.
“And Tara … you have power over the Trickster,” Giles said, his voice filled with both awe and trepidation as he stood up straight from his spot leaning against the wall. “That means you two …”
“Well, I >had< power over her,” Willow said softly.
“And I, umm … I don’t want that kind of power,” Tara said. “It’s dark … and it’s dangerous trying to command those kinds of forces, even when it’s guaranteed.”
“What?” Wesley asked, a puzzled look on his face. “What do you mean you >had< power over Glory?”
“I gave it up,” Willow said, lifting her chin and looking at him defiantly. “I don’t do dark magick. Never again.”
“I’m sure you did what you thought was best,” Wesley said slowly, hoping he wasn’t saying the wrong thing. He didn’t fully understand the situation – probably never would, really, as there were likely parts that Willow and Tara were keeping to themselves – and so he tried not to pass judgment on either of them, instead deciding to be impressed that they had made it through the ordeal.
“It was,” Tara said, her voice gaining confidence as she nodded firmly. “It was the only way. I gave my power over the Trickster to Glory in exchange for her help leaving Hell, and Willow made the same deal – giving her power over Glory to the Trickster.”
“I dare say, that’s rather brilliant,” Giles said, his eyebrows raising. “Neither one of them would have really had the option of turning it down.”
“I, umm … don’t get it,” Xander said, a scowl crossing his face.
“It was Willow’s idea,” Tara said, smiling shyly at her lover. “And if either of them turned the deal down, the other one would have been able to control them,” Tara explained to Xander.
“Ahh, gotcha,” Xander said, nodding. “You gave each of them a weapon, and if one of them had said no, they’d have been unarmed for all time, right?”
“Right,” Willow said. “So then we left. End of story.”
“Well, I’m not sure that could have possibly ended better,” Giles said slowly, a speculative look in his eye. “You’re both home, whole and safe, and with the restoration of Glory, Hell is balanced, so the Trickster likely won’t be a problem. Glory should keep him busy for quite some time to come.”
The room seemed to give a collective sigh of relief at Giles’s words, everyone looking around at each other and smiling, letting the knowledge that they had won another round with the forces of darkness sink into them.
“So, pizza?” Xander asked cheerfully.
“I wanna’ pick the movie,” Dawn piped up.
Tara just watched everyone, her expression thoughtful. Yes, the Trickster would be busy. For awhile. She shook her head, pushing away the thoughts of the Trickster and everything he had said to her, instead focusing on her family. There would be time to think about the rest of it later – a time to tell Willow everything she knew.
But that time wasn’t now.
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I Think The Hellmouth Tastes Like Chicken -- Autumn
Edited by: Sassette at: 6/8/02 10:43:01 am