Hello all Back again with another chapter.
I'm currently working on feedback and will add that later. Thank you all so very much for reading.
Chapter 35
Willow shifted, the weight of her child straining the muscles of her arms and shoulders. Abbey squeezed tightly into the embrace. She knew her daughter had witnessed so much horror, knew that her fragile life would forever be changed. Her body felt the flow of tension, filtered through pure adrenaline; the steady wash ran through her, opening gaps, flushing her mind. She was alive. She felt her daughter’s arms wrap tighter, knowing Abbey was safe, Tara had faced her past and together they walked away.
“Dead?” The ex demon crossed her arms over her chest. “Like dead dead?” She lingered over the sound coming from her lips.
“I’m pretty sure he can’t get any deader.”
“Well there’s undead.” Dawn chimed in, raising her finger to make a point. The group turned toward her simultaneously giving a sour expression. “Okay…” She stumbled over the words. “Not…so…fitting in here. How?”
Willow shook her head, knowing the children didn’t need to hear more. She carried them toward the row of patrol cars, looking for the Jeep. They rallied around the back of the truck, interested in more information.
The children climbed inside, staying very close to the redhead. She reached into the science bag, pulling out colors and paper. Delighted, the children began to draw.
She sat for a moment, flashing back to the knife blade drawn across her lover’s throat. She closed her eyes, her heart forcing hard against the images. Her head scrolled slowly through the scene, Tara abducted, Tara fighting back, Tara protecting, Tara surviving. Willow pulled her fingers through her hair, pushing a breath through her lips.
“Where’s Tara?” Buffy hunched in front of the redhead. Watching her eyes fill with tears. “Gosh Will…where’s Tara?” The slayer’s hands slipped to the Wicca’s shoulders. She shook her gently. “Will.”
“What did he do to Tara?” Terror filled Dawn’s eyes as her feet shuffled across the scattered gravel. “Willow?”
They watched as she slipped further inside herself. Her cheeks soaked with the horror she’d seen, her breath staggered and hesitant.
“Should I smack her?” The ex-demon stepped forward, raising her hand.
Dawn grabbed her wrist, twisting her away from the redhead. “Anya, do you think you could find a more original idea?”
“Hey…hey I’m just trying to help here.” She snapped at the younger Summers sister. “We need to know what the hell happened.”
“Clearly it’s not going to happen right now.” Xander stood beyond the crowd, craning his neck through the woods. “I’m going to talk to the cops.”
“No!” Buffy pushed away from her friend. “I’ll go…just in case it needs a slayer’s touch.” She stepped across the loose rocks, following the ragged path through the forest. Her feet fell across the twigs and leaves, signaling her presence. The line of officers stopped her as she approached the scene. Their hands raised defensively, like barricades around the crime. She stepped back, explaining her association. The slayer had clear view of the blonde and the lifeless corpse beside her on the ground.
She watched as Tara knelt on the blanket of rock and sticks, grinding her flesh against nature’s debris. The silent Wicca raised a hand to her brother’s pale face. Shaking her head, her eyes never leaving his body.
The slayer lifted the perimeter tape, drawn to her friend’s side. Once more a calloused hand rose, stopping her from stepping inside. She watched, protecting with her eyes; years of undead encounters pulling her closer.
The officers moved around Tara, searching the scene. With rhythmic motion her fingers fell across his face. Her hand traced the hardened line of his cheek, following down toward the wound in his chest. She spoke, merely a whisper, unheard by the swarm of investigators. Her hand pressed hard against his wound, pushing the reality of his death into her own soul. Tara’s free hand fell to the earth. The weight of her body rested against the tired flesh. Once more a quiet mumbling came from her lips. She closed her eyes, small tears falling down her cheeks. Her hand lifted, drawing her thumb across the crying. Her hand rolled through her golden tresses, the long slow motion releasing the last of her mourning.
The gray haired officer squatted beside her. “Tara, we need to get you out of here.”
She turned toward the sound, the words muffled by a haze of confusion. His hands slipped around the blonde pulling her from the haze of death. The sticks gripped the skin of her knees as she staggered to her feet.
Buffy begged to help her friend, knowing how the hands of strangers numbed the blonde. She slipped under the tape running through the trees to Tara.
“Let me.” She startled the officer. “If…if that’s ok. I mean…she didn’t?”
He shook his head. “No it wasn’t her.” Their eyes trailed toward Brenda. Her hands tightly cuffed behind her back. The officers led her from the scene, silent, numb, shrouded in loss, a whisper of strength as each step led her away toward freedom.
The red and blue bounced rhythmically against the group as they came through the trees. Tara watched her friend fold into the seat of the patrol car. Brenda twisted her arms, desperately seeking her child. Her body contorted against the panel of tempered glass. Her mouth formed the silent cry for her son. Tara understood, stepping forward, she trailed her fingers toward her friend. Her eyes promised care and love as the car pulled from the scene. The cold glass and steel slipped across her hand, frozen in the wake of her commitment.
Tara felt the sting of cold, the vacant hollow of loss and fear. Emotions so near the surface of her skin, they tingled her flesh.
The void drifted, a dense haze across the earth. The thick fog of emotion found it’s path, seeking comfort in sacred belonging. Spirit fled toward light, toward safety, toward home. Rich eyes of blue searched. The deep patterned pounding in her body, steadied. Without sound or thought her heart found its place.
Willow felt her lover move near, shaking her silent mourning. Mechanically her feet slipped over the textured bumper, finding solid earth beneath her. It devoured fear, feasted on pain, gorged it’s belly on helplessness, leaving a naked yearning for only one, the perfect half of her perforated self.
Her hand grasped the molded end of the car, hinging around to catch a full-fleshed glimpse of her love, the sight almost more than her heart could bear. “Tara.” The gentle sigh fell from her lips. Her heart felt the majestic rhythm as they united spirit-to-spirit; pulse-to-pulse. Everything disappeared in the light of her wife’s love.
Tara stepped toward her, knowing; the wild music of their love playing rhythmically between them. Their eyes finding residence, hearts renewing, souls intertwining wildly until their hands came slowly together. Thighs touched. Hips touched. Abs touched. Breasts came tightly together, every point remembering love. Tara slipped a hand to Willow’s face, taking hold.
“Baby…” the redhead whispered.
Their lips touched. Together they stood unreserved, locking tightly into each other.
Tara pulled back, feeling the warm rush driving its way to her hand. “Willow…don’t cry. I’m here now. I’m here.”
Their heads rested tightly. “Go and see them.” She turned to where the children were drawing. “They need you more.”
“Not more, just first” She placed her soft lips on her wife’s. They moved together around the rear of the truck.
Xander and Anya sat in the gravel thumb wrestling. Dawn watched the parade of vehicles, flashing lights, come and go.
The women stood tightly together, questioning the sheet draped across the cargo area. Willow broke the silent stare. “Fort?”
Anya looked up toward them. “Abbey said Patrick had questions.” Her lips puffed in contradiction. “Your kids gonna need major shrinking”
“Anya!” Xander squeezed her hand, crimping her fingers together. “Just stop talking.”
“I will not.” She pulled her hand away sharply, shaking it wildly. “The real world is an awful place. She got a good mouthful of it.”
“Anya it’s over.” Xander
“No Xander.” Willow looked at her wife. “It’s all really just beginning.” She pulled herself against the blonde. “We’ll get through it.”
Tara smiled, agreeing. “Together we can get through just about anything.” Her hand moved toward the drape of fabric. “Should we go in or not?”
The redhead smiled playfully. “Knock first.”
“Oh right.” The blonde returned the expression. Her lips separated gently, whispering. “Knock knock.”
A tiny giggle came from behind the curtain. “You can’t come in.”
Buffy supported her request. “We’re teaching Patrick about forts. Now go away.”
“Go away?” Tara’s brow tightened, scrunching with curiosity. “Really?”
Two voices answered. “Yes really.”
The redhead grasped her wife by both hands. “Care to follow me?”
Tara smiled, looking at the scattered scoobies. “Anywhere.”
“No having sex in the woods.” Anya felt a hand clamp over her mouth, her muffled voice continuing to squeal between the cracks of his fingers.
“Us?” Willow laughed. “Like we’d have time?” She looked at her wife playfully wriggling her brow. “Time later?”
Tara’s cheek lifted with a soft grin. “Much time later.”
They walked toward the edge of the trees resting against a weathered rock formation. Willow sat slowly, feeling the pull of resistance from her lover’s hands. Worry forced the smile from her face, the events of the day clawing their way to the surface of her thoughts. “Tara…baby?” she held on tightly.
The blonde turned away, breaking the hold of her lover’s hand. She watched the van marked ‘coroner’ pull into the gravel. “He’s dead Will. I can’t believe he’s dead.”
The redhead jumped up, quickly wrapping herself around her wife. “I’m sorry baby. I really hoped this wouldn’t be so…” She stopped, forcing silence, sensing her lover’s needs. “We’re together and we’re safe. That’s all that matters.”
“Is it? Are we?” Tara turned to face the redhead. “Are we really safe Willow? Can you look at me and honestly tell me we are safe?”
“No. I’m sorry baby I can’t.” Her hand stretched toward the blonde, brushing the hair from her face. “But we are together.” She held the soft flesh of Tara’s cheek. Green eyes grabbed blue pulling them toward full attention. “We’re together.”
“Do you realize what’s going to happen next?” Her eyes closed, tears swelling behind her blinking lids. “The boy in the back of that truck.” She wiped her eyes. “She’s going to jail Willow. He’s alone. Oh goddess do you know what’s going to happen to him?”
“He’s got you and me and Abigail. He’s not alone.” She kissed her wife, tenderly offering the comfort she needed.
“Do you mean it?” The blonde fell against her wife’s embrace. “Do you realize what’s ahead for him? For us?”
“Are you going to leave me?”
Tara blinked, confusion forcing her brow to furrow. “Leave you? How can you even ask that, after everything that’s happened today…yesterday…the day before.”
Willow fought the smile forming inside her. “I’m asking you the most ridiculous question silly…because you just asked me the same.” Her arms wrapped around the blonde, drawing them tightly together. “I made promises to you. Do you remember those promises?”
“Every word.”
Willow wiped the tears from Tara’s face. “So then we take what comes. Together…whatever comes.” They turned to watch the slayer climb from the back of the Jeep.
Buffy dusted off the legs of her jeans, swiping her hands back and forth. “Will…Tara. I think we’re about ready to take a drive.”
The group surrounded the back of the truck, listening closely to the slayer. “We’re going to take Patty to see his mommy.”
“Patty?” Dawn smiled at her sister. “You’re going to call him Patty. God Buffy, he’s a boy. Why?”
“It’s just a thing. You had to be there.” She turned to watch the children rip down the curtain. “So I told …PATTY!…that he could see his mommy.”
“Where did they take her?” Dawn walked toward Xander’s car. “Local cops?”
“Yes.” Tara reached into the cargo space taking her daughter in her arms. “They told me where she was going. If we’re lucky they’ll let her see him.”
They carried the children to the front of the truck, strapping Abbey into the harness. Patrick’s tiny frame slipped easily from the seatbelt, forcing both women to hesitate. Buffy charged off toward the abandoned Nova, unfastening the safety seat. She flipped it into her arms running back to the jeep.
“Not that he ever used this… but…here ya go.” The slayer winked at the boy. “Ready to go see mommy?”
He smiled and nodded, climbing into the harness. He grasped the slayer’s hand determined to keep her near him.
“I guess I’m riding with you guys.” Buffy sat beside the boy, enjoying the tight grip he had on her fingers.
They drove to the police station, waiting in the lobby to see Brenda. Patrick sat sandwiched tightly between the slayer and his Aunt. Willow paced nervously back and forth watching for some sign of their friend.
The desk sergeant called out for the blonde. “Tara Maclay?” His eyes drifted among the group of friends.
“Rosenberg!” Anya spat to the man. “Can’t any of you people get it right around here.” She huffed toward the counter. “She’s married.” She pointed toward Willow. “To that gorgeous redhead. They are hyphenated for life. So get your pen and fix it now.” She planted her finger on the report on the counter. “Tara Maclay-Rosenberg.” The officer stood, struck dumb silent, staring at the fiery blonde. “You’re not writing. Write!”
He scratched across the paper. Once more he called out for the woman, stumbling across the name. “Uh… Miss.” He caught a glare from Anya, quickly correcting his error. “Um Mrs. Maclay-Rosenberg you can go back to the visiting room.” He pointed her to the door.
Tara paused at the counter. “Can she see her son?”
“We’ll try to give them a chance before she’s transported.” The officer turned the handle of the door, allowing the blonde behind the counter. “She’ll be on the next secured bus to the state holding facility.”
“How far away?” Tara asked following the man into the visiting room.
“She’s being turned over to the state of California for psychological evaluation.” So I’m guessing she’s headed to Sacramento.”
Tara watched her friend enter the room. The blaze orange jumpsuit fashioned with handcuffs and chains. Her heart sank, knowing the path before them.
Brenda motioned for Tara to sit. She sighed, focusing on getting out her words. “Tara, don’t say anything, don’t ask anything. Just listen. I need to know that you’ll take care of my son. I need you to promise to keep him safe.” Her hands, clenched tightly in cuffs, swiped across her cheeks, smearing the tears across the back of her hand. “I can’t give him anything now. I know that. But I need to know that you will protect him. That you will make him yours.”
Tara shook her head. “I’m sorry Brenda. I can’t. I can’t do what you are asking me to do.”
TBC
__________________**
"When I find myself fading, I close my eyes and realize my friends are my energy."
Gotta say you had me rolling when Anya wa pissed over Brenda running.
by willntlover » Tue Jan 14, 2003 2:55 pm 
I loved it! Its been a bumpy little road throughout the whole thing, very interesting. I hope Donnie goes down soon, he's a real ass! 
)
arty
at: 1/21/03 3:37:56 pm
at: 1/30/03 7:44:02 am
Edited by: RaiStarr at: 1/30/03 6:22:24 pm
