Issue: Draft 3.2
Author: RaspberryHat
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon.
Rating: R. (Some scenes of violence, psychological trauma and angst.)
Feedback: Yes please, but be gentle, its my first time…
Email: raspberryhat@willowandtara.info
WebSite: www.willowandtara.info
Spoilers: Assumes familiarity with Willow and Tara's story up to the end of (but definitely no further than) Season 6/Entropy.
Distribution: No problem, just let me know where it's going.
Pairing: Willow and Tara.
Summary: A glimpse at Tara's past…
Time Frame: Alternate Universe. The summer vacation prior to Willow and Tara's final year at college. Willow and Tara got back together as shown at the end of Season 6/Entropy. After that, things went a little differently. Buffy quietly dealt with the Trio. She never went into details of precisely what she did, but they're never coming back. Tara helped Willow deal with the remaining effects of her addiction and to re-integrate into college. Willow being the good student she is, quickly caught up…
Note: An enormous thank you to Verdant and LeatherQueen, my beta-reader(s). This story would never have got off the ground without such generous support, time and thought. Thank you.
***
Tara waited patiently. Around her a subdued bustle of people arriving, departing, meeting. She let the sounds wash over her, not really listening.
Willow had been standing in the ticket line for the best part of half an hour. She could see Willow was now only one person from the front. Unfortunately, it seemed the person in front had – like all the others -- some complicated request for the clerk to deal with. Willow had argued there was no point in both of them having to stand and shuffle. In this heat, better at least for one to be comfortable. So Tara perched on one of the wooden benches, and let her mind wonder.
Tara mused on what she'd read about the Wiccan School. What would it be like? Would the people be friendly? Would she fit in? Could she keep up with Willow? Blonde locks fell across her face as she studied her hands, thinking.
Tara's reverie was interrupted by a happy redhead, brandishing tickets and a triumphant smile. "All done!"
Tara smiled at her lover and stood to join her.
Willow handed Tara a ticket and pulled sunglasses down from her long red hair. "San Francisco here we come!"
"Shall we wait outside?" asked Tara. "The weather's beautiful."
The two women picked up their luggage and headed outside to wait for their train.
***
Knowing how Willow would enjoy looking out the carriage window, Tara settled herself into the aisle side seat. Willow fussed minutely with their luggage, getting everything stowed neatly in the space above. Finally Willow sat down, letting out a sigh, her energy deflated a little.
A smile played at the corner of Tara's lips.
"What?" asked Willow, frowning slightly.
"Comfortable now?" Tara teased gently.
Announcements, confirmations and soon the train was pulling slowly out the station.
***
"Do you think Buffy will miss us?" wondered Willow.
"She'll be fine. She told me she was planning on extending her patrols to cover the new Wheatherley Park extension. She'll be far too busy to worry about us. Besides, we're only going to be away a week," reassured Tara.
Willow looked around their carriage. Many seats were empty. A few people talked quietly. There seemed an expectant quality to the atmosphere.
Willow settled further into her seat, feeling the gentle rhythm of the train beneath her. She clasped her lover's hand and turned to watch the world go by. Tara opened the leather bound volume resting on her knee and began to read.
***
"Tara! The temporal field's collapsing. He's moving!"
"Tara! It's not working! … Buffy!"
Willow's eyes snapped open. She looked around, momentarily confused.
Tara looked up from her book and watched her partner, eyes concerned. She gave Willow's hand a gentle squeeze, pausing a moment before speaking. "You fell asleep."
"It was a dream?" Willow questioned – reality not having quite reasserted itself.
Tara nodded. "What did you dream about?" She suspected she knew the answer though.
Willow stared off above the heads of the other passengers. Her eyes widened as the events of the dream played back through her mind. It had been frightening enough when it happened. But at least they'd won – in the end. Her paranoid mind running constant what-if scenarios through her nightmares was an added unhappy bonus.
"Him." she said simply. "Only this time, the spell didn't work and, and…well we couldn't slow him down...He… tore her heart out of her chest."
Her voice was low but exasperated. "It was six months ago and I am still dreaming about it," complained Willow.
Tara's expression was reassuring but firm. "We talked about this. We both knew the spell we tried was powerful, like in a way neither of us had experienced before. We knew it might have… we knew it might have unwanted side effects. But we knew we had to do it, or otherwise, well you know what would have happened."
Willow looked away for a moment, staring out the window. She turned back and pouted. "Only I seem to be the one getting all the unwanted side effects."
Tara shrugged slightly and grinned a small lopsided grin, managing to evince a smile from the redhead.
Willow put on her resolve face. The past was, well, past.
"I am so looking forward to this. I've read a lot about the school, and they don't allow just anybody to study there you know. And there's all kinds of cool stuff we're gonna learn. And we can ask the priestess about… those side effects." babbled Willow.
***
The train rumbled onwards. Outside, the sky darkened, becoming a rain threatening grey.
Willow looked around the compartment. "I guess everyone got off." She said distractedly. Satisfied they were alone, she leaned over and pulled her lover into a lingering kiss.
They sat quietly for a while, watching the clouds intensify in the sky.
"What was the last station we went through?" asked Willow.
Tara hunched her shoulders and half smiled, embarrassed, "I wasn't really paying attention." she said, indicating the book she had been studying.
It seemed near dark outside. To the south, the Sun backlit an area of cloud, casting shafts of light to the land below. The carriage was long since quiet. The only sound, the muted clatter of wheels over track.
Willow looked at Tara. Tara put down her book. Willow curled up and placed her head gently in Tara's lap. Tara stroked Willow's hair softly. "Peaceful." said Willow after a while.
Tara sighed quietly in agreement. They sat like that for a time. Before long, Willow's eyelids started to flutter and soon she was asleep.
***
"Will? Willow?"
"Hmmphg? What?" said Willow. She sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
Willow looked at Tara, sensing something was wrong. "What is it?"
"We've stopped."
"We're on a train. Trains do that," said Willow. The corner of her lips curling into a trace of a smile.
"It's probably just a…" Willow searched for some plausible explanation. "… thing," she finished lamely. "I expect we'll start moving in a minute."
"But there's no station," insisted Tara, "and we've been sitting like this for about twenty minutes now. And it's really quiet."
Tara's eyes darted around nervously. The fingers in her right hand clenched and unclenched around a fold of her green velvet skirt.
Willow looked at how agitated Tara was. She hated seeing her lover's beautiful features marred with fear. Was it fear? Her natural protective instinct was to confidently say everything was alright, to offer reassurance. Willow studied her surroundings looking for the evidence to backup the statement already forming at her lips.
It was quiet. It wasn't just that there was nobody in their carriage, there were no people – anywhere. It was much darker outside, and the carriage's lights seemed dimmer. Willow found the combined effect a little claustrophobic.
Willow didn't want Tara to see she was worried – not yet anyway, not before they knew what was going on. Surely scoobyage couldn't follow them everywhere?
"We should at least wait a while before we assume something bad has happened." said Willow, just a hint of desperation in her voice.
"Hey! You wanna thumb wrestle?"
***
"Willow, we haven't moved for an hour, I don't like this." said Tara.
Willow stared out into gloom. "I know. Something feels… I don't know how to describe it. Strange. Something feels wrong with where we are. Why don't we see if we can find the
conductor and see what's going on."
Tara rose from her seat and reached for her bag, sliding the long strap over her shoulder. Willow led the way down towards the end of the carriage and the exit which they found open to the cold evening. Three of the four overhead lights were dark, one remained, flickering uncertainly.
Tara peered through the open door. The air was chilly and damp, the sky steel grey. Tara looked at the building and thought she recognized it.
There was a note of fear in her voice now. "Willow there's a station outside. We're stopped at a station."
***
The was no platform, just a single story wooden building. A small awning with crenulated edging jutted out a few feet from the roof offering shelter to any luckless traveller finding themselves in this middle of nowhere.
Four large arched windows would provide light to the darkened office within. A single wooden door stood in the centre of the building.
Willow took Tara's hand firmly and looked into worried blue eyes. Then she turned and began lowering herself carefully down from the footplate. When her feet found solid ground, she reached to help Tara down.
Willow and Tara looked up and down the length of the train. All the lights were on. The misty rain seemed to mute all sound.
Willow took Tara's hand in hers and they started towards the station door. Willow tried the tarnished brass door knob. "Not locked."
The room beyond was a waiting area and ticket office. Along one wall sat a counter with three windows. Each window had a canvas blind pulled down behind it. Wooden benches lined the other walls. Opposite the door they had come in through was another door. On the wall above the exit door, a round clock ponderously counted.
The exit lead out onto a small wooden deck. Beyond was a rough parking lot. No cars though. A single road lead away from the station. Telegraph poles carried alongside the road and away into the distance. What looked like a small town could be seen a few miles away.
"Well since that's going nowhere," Willow indicated the train away behind them, "and we've no idea where we are and there's not a soul to ask, I guess we follow the white rabbit."
***
After walking briskly for about forty minutes, Willow and Tara found themselves approaching the outskirts of the town. A few large houses were set back from the road in generous plots. The local people obviously took pride in their homes, each one having a neat, well kept and individually cultivated garden. Judging from appearances, this part of town was rather affluent.
Closer than the rich looking family homes, a house stood out a little from its neighbours. It was smaller and set a little further back from the road, a little more secluded. The house was of wooden construction, painted fresh white and punctuated with large, light giving windows. A verdant climbing rose painted the front right side of the house in crimson blooms.
Incongruously, the sky was a brilliant cerulean, just a single cotton wool cloud visible in the distance.
Neat, blacked wrought iron railings delineated the home. The front gate stood open, creaking slightly in the breeze.
As Willow and Tara drew closer to the house, Tara stopped suddenly. "Willow, I can hear someone."
The women walked across to stand at the open gate.
The house was set in a small but beautifully tended garden. The scent of lavender carried on the wind. A paved garden path ran to the front door of the house. Two small steps lead up to the front door. Sitting on the bottom step, was a girl.
It was hard to judge the girl's age. Perhaps ten years old, perhaps a little younger. She wore a white dress with a floral print. Her hair flowed in gentle chestnut curls to her waste. She held a small cloth doll in her hand. The doll was a little soiled. The girl was looking down at the doll, talking to it in quiet, fractured sentences.
Willow turned and looked at Tara. She always knew when Tara was upset and could usually tell exactly what was disturbing her. But this time she found she couldn't quite sense the cause of Tara's concern.
"What is it baby?"
Tara took a breath and paused before answering. "She's confused and..." said Tara.
Willow's eyes questioned.
Tara's forehead creased as she tried to articulate her thoughts. "It's like her essence, it's not all there." finished Tara. Willow drew her lover close. Slowly, Tara's breathing started to slow and she untensed a little.
Tara looked at Willow, a resolute expression on her face. She turned and walked over the threshold. Willow followed closely behind.
Approaching the girl slowly, Tara stopped short, a couple of paces back and stood for a long time, waiting for any sort of acknowledgement. The girl just carried on whispering to her doll.
Following Tara's lead, Willow stood quietly next to Tara, waiting for the girl to acknowledge their presence.
Tara took a small breath. She moved a little closer and slowly knelt down in front of the girl. She was careful to leave a small distance between them, allowing the girl to acclimate to having someone in her space. Tara cleared her mind and focussed on making herself calm. She started to be able to hear the words the girl was speaking.
"It's quiet now."
The girl paused, she seemed lost in contemplation. Tara wasn't sure if the little girl had noticed her. Then without looking up, the girl said "Have you come to help?"
Unsure what to make of this, Tara questioned gently. "Help who?" she asked.
The girl didn't answer.
Tara paused before continuing, trying a different tack. "What's your name?" she asked gently. The girl looked up at Tara. The girl's eyes seemed, to know more than someone so young should know.
The girl spoke slowly as if reciting a line she had just learned. "My name," said the girl slowly, "is Miranda."
Tara looked up at Willow then turned back to the girl. "Who needs help Miranda?"
Miranda considered for a beat. Then she stood up. Tara automatically rose with the girl. Miranda stepped forward and offered her hands to Willow and Tara. "I'll show you." she said.
The witches looked at each other. It seemed obvious what the girl wanted. The two women each extended an arm and grasped one of the girl's proffered hands.
The world started to spin.
Reality blurred. Then, as if someone had slammed on the brakes of the merry go round, everything stopped.
***
Outside. An uncultivated patch of grass, set far behind white house's formal garden. A little blonde girl knelt on a blanket. Beside her, an open wicker basket. One by one, the girl was
removing objects from the basket and placing them carefully before her.
Slightly shocked, Willow thought she recognised the equipment necessary for performing an elemental spell. She looked at Tara who also had recognition in her eyes as well as a more complex emotion that the redhead could not immediately discern.
Willow didn't try to speak as she has a sense that wherever Miranda had brought them was not quite real time and there may simply be no medium for normal sound to travel. The scene played out in front of them, but they were only spectators onto a past or other reality. Miranda was telling them a story.
The girl on the blanket smiled to herself as she prepared her tools.
The silent world was suddenly broken. "Tara!"
Willow turned and saw a suited man walking quickly up the dirt path from the rear of the house. The man had dark grey eyes. His features an expression of discontent and annoyance. At the shout, Willow felt Tara stiffen. Tara did not turn to look.
The girl on the blanket dropped the item she was holding. She looked quickly in the direction of the sound. A look of panic marred her delicate features. The girl quickly began replacing items in the basket, her hands shaking a little as she did so.
The man called out again and as he approached the girl and saw what she was doing, his expression turned hardened.
"TARA!". The girl simply froze, too terrified to know what to do, her shoulders spasmed slightly as she tensed.
The man came up to the girl and looked in disgust at the scene before him. Willow and Tara, unnoticed voyeurs. Without speaking, the man wrenched the girl up by her arm and pulled her behind him, leading, half pulling her back into the house.
Tara had not moved a muscle as the scene played out. Willow felt realisation dawn cold in her stomach. She gently turned her lover towards her. Willow lifted a hand and tilted Tara's chin up to face her. Tears were silently falling down Tara's cheeks. Tara looked down, ashamed, unable to find words.
The sun blazed white, blinding. The light receded slowly. The two women were standing in the doorway to a large kitchen.
***
Light streamed through the broad netted window to the right. The light had a pale blue-ish quality. A Belfast sink was set in front of the window. Next to the sink, a range and a counter. Shelves filled with jars and ingredients lined the walls. A woman leaned over the sink, washing potatoes.
The woman was of indeterminate middle age. Her grey streaked blonde hair fell over her face and shoulders as she leaned over the sink. The woman smiled serenely as she worked.
Through a door at the other end of the kitchen, came a cry of pain. The man entered, dragging the blonde girl behind him.
"Katheryn?!"
The woman at the sink turned at the sound of her name. The man walked quickly into the room, discarding the girl's arm, pushing her away from him. He walked straight up to the woman and brought his hand hard down across her left cheek. The woman staggered from the shock of the blow, leaning her arm to the counter, stopping herself from falling to the floor.
The chestnut haired girl stood in front of Willow and Tara as they were forced to watch the events unfold.
Willow held Tara's hand and could feel a rush of emotions; fear, disgust, shame, regret.
The woman slowly raised her head and looked at her husband. "William." she entreated.
He cut her off. His voice quavered with anger. "What did I say?" he demanded. "What did I say about teaching her that nonsense? What did I say about you practising it?"
He didn't wait for an answer. William pointed at his daughter. His face tinged an ugly red. He reached and absently and loosened his tie.
"I told you that if I ever found you doing… that or worse, teaching her to do it, then you would both regret it. I will not have blasphemy in my house!"
The woman raised herself to her full height and brushed her self down. Her body language was defiant, but her eyes betrayed the fear she felt. "William. Please not in front of Tara."
The man turned away from his wife. He looked at where Tara crouched by the kitchen table. Looking like he was about to speak again and accede to his wife's wish he began to turn back to face her. Instead of relenting, as he turned, he raised his hand and backhanded her across the face.
The woman gave a small scream as she saw the blow coming. She folded quietly to the floor. As she fell her head caught the edge of the white sink. A trace of blood mingled with the potatoes that bobbed in the sink.
Tara's father raised his right hand and wiped a fleck of spittle from his lip. He looked down at the woman before him.
Behind her father, young Tara slowly stood. He dress was torn and her hair dishevelled. "Father."
He turned at the sound of his daughter's voice.
Tara's blonde hair was swept back across her shoulders. The air around her shimmered.
As Tara looked up at her father her eyes became an oily, unforgiving black. Light from the window reflected off her eyes. Her arms shook slightly. Her words came fractured. "Don't. Hurt her. Again."
As she spoke, the skin on her father's right hand started to turn red and blister.
William looked in silent horror as his hand turned first red and then darkened, an acrid burning smell followed as the skin started to peel and burn.
Young Tara's arms shook uncontrollably and her hair was moved in a magickal wind. Spots of blood dripped to the floor at the girl's feet.
"Tara." Her mother spoke with quiet authority. She had raised herself into a sitting position and was looking at her daughter.
"Stop."
Tara looked at her mother with empty eyes. The burning stopped.
She looked across to her father who nursed his hand. Realisation of what she'd done began to seep into the young girl's mind. She didn't know how she'd done it but she'd wanted him to stop and some how it had just happened.
The shaking stopped and very slowly the darkness clouding Tara eyes faded to blue.
As if snapping back from a day dream, his pain forgotten, her father reached for Tara with his good hand.
Young Tara put her hands over her ears and screamed silently. Her scream a palpable shock wave of energy.
***
Willow felt Tara's grip loosen and turned just in time to catch the blonde as she collapsed to the ground. Willow knelt, holding Tara close.
Miranda stood impassively, allowing Willow to adjust. Then she reached out her hand again. Willow, mind still whirling hesitated before taking the girl's hand again. The light from the window blazed bright, searing Willow's eyes. Before everything went white, Tara thought she saw the dark silhouette of a woman watching her.
***
Tara opened her eyes.
"Baby?" Willow spoke, concern in her voice.
Tara shifted slightly, gathering herself and her thoughts.
Willow was kneeling before the front steps of the house, cradling Tara's head against her chest.
Miranda stood just where she had been.
Tara sat up. She didn't meet Willow's gaze.
Willow's mind churned with the effort of trying to take in what she'd seen. She felt she was starting to understand a part of Tara that was in so many ways dead and buried and in other ways still too much alive.
Tara had never wanted to talk about her childhood. Willow always knew it had been a difficult time. She knew that Tara had a deep bond with her mother but that she'd never had a good relationship with her father and brother. Tara seemed even less inclined to talk about her brother than her father.
Willow had agonised with herself over whether she should try to get Tara to talk about her past. Part of her felt that getting Tara to talk about it might help her to deal with it. Another part of her, a darker and more selfish part wondered if she'd be able to deal with the truth. For she felt that if she pushed, Tara would tell her. Would she be able to help? Would she freak at the knowledge of what her girlfriend had been through? What would the knowledge do to their relationship?
The ever analytical Willow had agreed to disagree with herself and never raised the subject.
Now she had seen.
What she had seen frightened her and confused her. Willow also found she felt an odd sense of relief. Somehow fear of the unknown was always greater than fear of some specific horror. Once a thing is defined the mind can begin to find a way to deal with it.
Willow mentally braced herself. The she immediately felt guilty for doing so. Willow reached out and took her lover's hands in her own. She held Tara's hands and let herself feel the other witch's pain.
Tara slowly looked up at Willow's wide open eyes. She breathed deeply trying to find words.
"I-I never, … I thought it was best never to talk about it. I, I thought that if I told you all of it that you might think the best place for me was in t-therapy instead of with you."
Tara paused, thinking. "Willow my life with you is like a rebirth. That," she waved at the house and the past, "is a different life."
The words came more quickly.
"The magick. I don't remember ever…"
Willow lifted a finger and covered the blonde's mouth.
"It's okay. Tara. You thought because you've always told me how bad black magic is that seeing you do it would make me hate you?" asked Willow.
Tara looked at her lover but didn't answer. "Tara you were a little girl and you were trying to protect your mother. When people are put in situations like that…" she didn't finish. She didn't need to.
"Tara, we've got all the time in the world to talk about this. I don't hate you for what you've been through. That's ridiculous. Why would I think that? You know the way I feel. I knew what you'd been through was hard. Now I've seen it – some of it. And it just makes me more amazed at how you've come through it."
"You and your mother always stuck to the Wiccan ethic. You were so young, you couldn't be blamed for what you did." said Willow.
"I see some of what you went through. That you managed to live by that rule, through that. Your strength inspires me. If you can get through that, I know I can get through." As she said this, Willow looked down, with a look of regret and sorrow. Willow thought about the pain she'd put Tara through in the last year.
There was nothing more to say about the past. For now.
Tara managed a tiny smile.
***
Willow took her lover's hands and squeezed reassuringly. "There are two things I still don't understand though." said Willow.
Tara looked questioningly.
"Who is Miranda and where on earth are we?"
Tara began to explain. "Miranda was my friend." she said.
"We were best friends through kindergarten and…" she stopped again.
"What?" coaxed Willow.
"She d-died when she was seven. She was my best friend. She knew she was going to die. She had l-leukaemia. She was away from school a lot to go for treatment. I was allowed to go with her one time."
Willow's heart went cold. As if the events they had just seen weren't enough, now this.
Tara continued. "I think she's a spirit. She's here to show us. She looks nothing like I ever remember. I mostly remember what she was like towards the end. I think this is how she looked in her mind's eye. In her dreams."
Behind them, Miranda continued to whisper quietly to her doll.
"What about where we are. Is this your house?" asked Willow.
Tara stood up and brushed her skirt down. She turned and studied the house. Her expression curious. Then she began to smile, but there was little mirth in her expression.
"When I was younger, I used to dream there was a place. Somewhere I could go where everything was quiet and beautiful. And I could talk to Miranda. In my fantasy, Miranda was alive and we were still best friends. I could always go there and talk to her."
"Only somehow, this is real." pondered Willow. "Maybe, when…you know - you screamed, you somehow ran away. It was the only thing left to do. You came to the one place you felt completely safe. You did something magickal to get here. You prayed. Somehow, I think we were brought to help. We're trapped in your past."
Tara wanted to object to this fantastical explanation, but right now she couldn't think of anything more plausible. More importantly, she trusted Willow's intuition.
***
"So… How do we get out?" asked Tara.
"Well," began Willow, "if magick brought us here, then magick ought to be able to take us back."
"Will, I think-" began Tara.
"My prayer was answered." said a voice.
The two women looked around. Standing next to Miranda was a slightly taller blonde girl – Tara.
The two woman looked at the young girl, somewhat lost for what to say.
Young Tara took Miranda's hand and led her across the lawn to sit on her favourite spot under her tree.
Willow simply watched in wonder. Then her face suddenly lit up.
"It's like the temporal shift spell we did. We made time flow differently around him. When you get close to two strands of time moving at very different speeds, you get currents and eddies. That's what this feels like." Willow paused and took a breath.
"But why us?" asked Tara. "How could she… I know about us or who we were or where or even when we were?"
Willow shook her head. "I think she, er you prayed to the Goddess and somehow found us." she said.
"If somehow the Goddess answered the prayer by bringing us, there must be something we are meant to do to help. Why else would this have happened?" asked Tara.
Willow looked sadly at her girlfriend. She felt like everything she had ever believed in, ever conjectured and thought was all coalescing into a truth. "Maybe there is nothing we can do to
help you – then. Maybe the reason we were brought here is to help you and me now." suggested Willow.
Tara thought about this for a long time. "Let's talk to her before we try to return. If we can't say anything at all, what's the point of this? I can't believe all this was just for now. She cried for help. We have to try to do something. Offer some comfort."
***
The two women walked across the lawn and sat down next to Miranda and young Tara.
Young Tara looked up from her conversation and stared curiously at Willow.
Tara looked at her self, knowing that whatever she was going to say would be awkward. How could she tell herself everything was going to be all right? She couldn't lie to herself, she remembered growing up. But she also knew that it would all change. And she now knew that she would be able to share her inner most horrors with the love of her life. And how on earth could she entreat herself to put her faith in her mother when she knew what would happen eventually. Goddess, how could she explain all this to herself at the age of eleven?
"Tara," began Tara, "do you know who I am?".
The girl shook her head.
"Tara, I know you're scared by what happened. I know what it's like to go through that. There's nothing I can really say that will make it any easier."
Tara paused, searching for a way to sum up what she wanted to say.
"Just remember the law. Mother always said you must abide by the law. If you don't, you're no better than those who would doubt your faith. Love your mother. Be careful how you practice, but don't stop practising."
She continued… "My mother used to teach me magick. I needed to hide sometimes. She showed me ways to be very quiet, so that people wouldn't n-notice me." Tara frowned slightly at the pain of remembering. She didn't know what else to say. She looked at Willow, who returned an understanding smile.
Tara paused from her uncharacterfully long speech.
The girl suddenly blurted, "I did it. I made all the people go away. I just wanted to be alone. To make it stop." she blurted.
Tara reached out and gently lifted the girl's chin.
"I am sorry." The girl looked at Willow and Tara, her eyes pleading forgiveness.
It was Willow's turn to speak. "It's okay sweetie. You didn't make everyone disappear, you just…hid where no one could find you… And we're going to take you back."
At this, young Tara looked frightened. Tara took her hand and said again. "You might not believe it now, but you will get through it. You will. Always remember that."
Understanding or perhaps acceptance seemed to creep across young Tara's face.
***
Tara turned business like to Willow. "I can tell Willowbrain is working. How do we do this?"
Her analytical mind taking over, Willow answered. "I was just wondering what happens when we go back. Did this never happen? Do you forget? Did you repress this?" mused Willow.
"Well we're not going to know until we do it. Look at it this way, if we don't do something, we're stuck here. And the rest of this town are stuck wherever I, er, she put them." said Tara
"She's managed one of my old tricks," said Willow, "except I don't think she knows exactly what she did or how she did it. Returning to her/your real home should be straight forward enough. The harder part is returning us to the right time and place."
Tara looked up at Willow. "That sounds like enough of a plan. We put me back and then we see how to get ourselves back to where we started."
"Her power must be sustaining the change, keeping people out of this reality. If we can harness that and diffuse it. The change should unwind and everyone will return."
***
Willow leant down and one by one, untied the laces of her deck shoes. She took off her right and then her left shoe. She placed the pair neatly on the ground and then carefully knelt down. Tara, knelt opposite Willow.
Willow turned to speak to Young Tara and Miranda. She motioned Young Tara to come and join them, to complete the triangle. Miranda sat to one side, observing and chillingly, Willow thought, not really there.
"Willow, we don't have any of the ritual instruments or anything, can we do it?" asked Tara nervously.
Willow looked up. "We've been working towards this with smaller spells, getting to where we don't need the artefacts to help us focus. Magick comes from within, the tools make it easier to focus. Anyway," she said, a hint of humour in her voice, "I figure you've already done this without help. So you should be able to do it again."
Willow slowly took in her surroundings. She looked at the rose beds at the front of the house and recognised Rosa Calafornica. Her lips curled into a tiny smile.
The ritual began.
Willow knew this should be a simple matter. The three women joined hands. As one, Willow and Tara repeated the words.
And again the world began to disintegrate.
***
When Willow and Tara opened their eyes, they were still kneeling on the lawn.
Now though, Young Tara was gone, as was Miranda. Willow looked around. The lawn was a parched yellow. They were still in the front garden of the Maclay house. Only this time the house looked different. The house had obviously been white once. Except now the paint peeled and a green moss played at the foundations. Ivy crawled up the front of the house. The scent of herbs still carried on the wind. The garden looked like it was overdue some attention.
Tara looked around and her pretty face creased with fear and recognition.
Willow looked through the kitchen window and could see a woman leaning down talking to someone.
"Looks like you're back inside." said Willow.
"Willow, lets get out of here. Please. Quickly."
"You don't have to tell me twice." said Willow.
"Are you ready?"
Tara nodded. They joined hands again.
Willow breathed in deeply through her nose and very slowly exhaled through her mouth.
The women closed their eyes and bowed their heads forward. In unison, they began to recite words, quietly.
Willow felt the familiar feeling as she gained connectedness with the Earth. Manipulating time took a lot of energy. But it seemed to be something Tara had a talent for. Something else to think about. Then she focussed.
Their words repeated, resonating, gaining power.
Willow opened her eyes and watched as a misty corona begin to form around them.
The cloud slowly gained coherence and started to become completely opaque. Soon the house and surroundings were all obscured.
Tara opened her own eyes and watched. As she looked closely, she could see that the cloud was composed of millions of gossamer fibres, each one writhing, seemingly with a life its own.
The strands of the cloud were slowly weaving into a coherent spherical form around the two witches.
Then the growth stopped.
Willow could see the fibres fluttering in the breeze, but the tightening weave had stopped.
Willow looked at Tara. "Now for the hard part. We need to pin point where to return to."
Willow and Tara concentrated and focussed on the train.
Slowly the fibres of energy began to calm. A perturbation appeared on the surface of the sphere, it extended slowly, spinning out of the core. The cord of white energy gathered in substance and slowly extended, unwinding the sphere like a ball of wool.
The energy slowly flowed out of the ball, and as they watched, the light around them faded or rather reality faded and a new reality began to come into focus before them. As the energy dissipated, a darkened sky came into focus.
The last of the energy dissipated. The two women found themselves looking at a now familiar wooden station.
Behind the station stood the train. Only this time they could hear sounds of life. People.
Willow smiled inwardly. There was so much to talk about. But for now she just wanted to settle back onto the train with Tara and get to where they were meant (she'd have to think about that one later) to be going.
Hand in hand, the two witches hurried back to the train.
***
Willow opened her eyes.
Tara looked fondly down at her lover. "Hello sleepy head."
Willow was curled up next to Tara, head in the other woman's lap. Outside the window, the sun was just starting to set. A pale and course yellow light filled the carriage.
Willow re-arranged herself into a sitting position. She smiled sleepily and pushed a lock of red hair from her eyes. Her face turned serious but she didn't speak. She wondered how she could ask the questions that she wanted to ask. Should she ask? Should she just let Tara go at her own pace?
The two women sat close for a time, listening to the sound of the train and murmur of the few people in their carriage.
Tara spoke first.
"W-Willow?"
Willow looked at Tara and raised her eyebrows slightly, waiting for Tara to continue.
"I do remember." said Tara.
Willow felt terrible pangs of guilt again. All this time Tara carried the burden of memory, of experience. Willow knew there was nothing she could do or say to erase the pain she knew Tara felt when she remembered her childhood. The guilt Willow felt was many-fold. That she could not have been with Tara to help her through those times, that she could not make Tara's pain go away. Willow also felt a tiny hurt that Tara had never felt able to confide her past in more detail. But why would she? Who would want to remember that?
Perhaps worst of all though, a tiny nagging voice in Willow's mind told her that if Tara had grown up differently, she wouldn't be who she was now. Willow hated herself for even allowing the thought to enter her mind. The fire of upbringing had forged a deeply strong woman whom she loved completely. Willow knew that some people, did not manage to get through, to survive.
Willow wished she could have met Tara's mother.
Willow silently thanked the Goddess that Tara had somehow found the strength to deal with her life. That she had managed to stolidly stick to her and her mother's ethics through it all filled Willow with wonder.
"Tara, we can talk as much as you want. Or as little as you want. It doesn't matter."
Willow took her lover's hand again and squeezed gently. "I just need you to know that you can share this with me if you want to." said Willow.
"Willow, I want to visit my mother's grave." said Tara.
Willow hesitated, surprised and a little uncertain at what this announcement meant.
"I want you to come." said Tara.
Willow relaxed a little and then Willow the organizer spoke. "Hey! we could detour on the way back from school. I could call Buffy and tell her we'll be a couple days late?"
Tara smiled.
***
A low stone wall surrounded the small grave yard. Lichen of years crept over the wall. Wild flowers grew from crevices in the rocks. The cemetery lay on a gentle incline, a chapel stood at the top of the rise.
Scorched yellow grass crunched underfoot as the two women walked through the open gates.
The sky was clear. A sea breeze added a chill to an otherwise perfect summer day.
Tara's flaxen dress flowed behind her as she slowly led the way to her mother's grave.
Tara carried a small posy of herbs and flowers. As they reached the headstone, she placed the flowers on the earth in front of the stone.
Willow stood quietly by, letting Tara gather her thoughts.
Tara knelt in the earth before the headstone, but her eyes focussed out into the horizon. She stayed like this for a long time. Quiet. Remembering. Smiling gently.
Willow watched Tara shiver unconsciously and the sea breeze chilled her delicate skin.
Before rising, Tara looked at the stone and told her mother; "I am okay now."
Willow paused before asking "Tara? What does the epitaph mean?"
Tara looked back at the head stone. "I chose the words. Father didn't want anything to do with the whole thing. I arranged it all."
Tara read the words out loud. "Dura Lex Sed Lex."
"It means," said Tara slowly, "the law is hard, but it is the law."
Tara took Willow's hand and they walked slowly back down to the cemetery gates.
"I know what you're going to say. It's just that, I don't really like to remember." said Tara.
"But how did you survive, how did your mother survive as long as she did?" asked Willow.
"Will, there's one way that we're different. You taught yourself witchcraft and you learned Wicca in your own way. I was brought up a witch from almost as young as I can remember. The very first thing my mother taught me was the Wiccan Rede. She wouldn't teach me any magick until she was sure I didn't just understand it, but I believed in it and accepted it as a way of life."
Willow simply shook her head in wonder.
Tara looked at her lover, her mind searching for the best way to explain herself.
"She always lived by that rule and I knew that if she could do it then I could too."
"Growing up was very hard. I could have ended up hating my mother for not being able to protect me. But she taught me. She showed me that her's was the honourable path. She showed me that the path of violence would be ruination and I would be no better than him."
Tara's usually serene features looked bitter for a second. "We both suffered for what we believed in." she said.
Looking up at Willow, she gave a tiny smile. "I have a whole new life now," said Tara, "my life started over when you came to me. And I thank the Goddess for that every single day."
End
"There's nothing very merry 'bout going round and round..."
Edited by: raspberryhat at: 9/11/02 2:04:03 pm
Edited by: 
Very involved storyline and a complex idea but you explained everything perfectly and I didnt get lost in the plot this time lol. Well hope you continue to write in the [near] future 
Aly xxxx
