by AntigoneUnbound » Wed Mar 12, 2003 12:10 am
Gods Served and Abandoned
Disclaimers:
ME owns these characters. I do, however, own a television on which I used to watch the show. I’m sure ME owns a TV, and I suspect Vicki does as well. All of which begs the question: Are Mutant Enemy, Vicki, and I the same person? Have you ever seen us all photographed at the same time?
Spoilers:
Up to season 5. I’ve played slightly with the timing of a certain Big Bad’s appearance, with some implications for Dawn’s entrance.
Rating:
R for now; if it changes, I’ll give heads-up.
Distribution:
Sure, with acknowledgement.
Feedback:
Even more sure! Bring it on!
*****
Part 18
*****
I have no parents. My parents are dead. My mother is dead, and the man who was really my biological father is dead. I can never talk to him. And I can never talk to her about what happened.
Variations of these thoughts echoed in Tara’s head for several seconds, and she watched them ripple out from her brain to begin stitching a new fabric for her life’s story.
The past twenty-four hours had been a succession of blows to what she had always accepted as reality. After learning that her mother had no demon in her, she had found that her father did. Only he wasn’t her father; her uncle was. The man she had called "Uncle Quinn" had had an affair with her mother, in which she herself had been conceived, and eventually he had left his wife as well as the woman he loved and two daughters. Now he was dead.
The only constant was the invisible cord that held her close to Willow, anchoring her to a family that didn’t build hollow existences on the ruins of lies.
My parents are dead but my mate lives. So I can live, too.
Finally, she drew a shuddering breath and looked at Nathan shakily. "You’re saying Quinn is dead? That there’s no way for me to talk to him?"
Nathan’s gaze was unreadable. Did he regret her pain? Did he relish it?
"That’s right. I heard from Beverly last September. She said he called her from Tulsa; that’s where he ended up. She’s the one who told him that Julia had died. They spoke a couple of times, but he never wanted to get together. She got the impression that he was drinking even more. Apparently, his stomach started to bleed one night and two days later, he was dead. He had told the hospital that Beverly was his next of kin." Nathan smiled thinly. "Not his wife, who he never divorced, and neither of his two daughters."
Tara looked down again, feeling bludgeoned by the concussive force of the revelations. She had always been thoughtful, contemplative; she preferred the chance to reflect on things within her own mind before giving voice to those thoughts. Now, though, she felt as if she were on stage beneath an unyielding spotlight. As she tried to quiet the pounding in her head, she felt Willow lean closer, enclosing Tara’s hand in both of her own.
"Baby, are you OK?" she whispered. "Do you need some fresh air; maybe take a break?"
Tara looked up to see Willow’s worried gaze, the latter’s brow arching in question. Suddenly, the need to be outside felt so overwhelming as to leave her almost dizzy. She tried to speak, but the words seemed to collide and tumble within her head. She closed her eyes for a moment, and then nodded.
"Yeah, that actually sounds like a good idea." She drew herself up straight, and looked at Nathan. What do I call him? As the two gazed at each other, the incredible irony sank into Tara’s awareness: in the process of learning that this man was not her father, she had come to know and understand him more than she had ever imagined possible.
Maybe we’re beyond titles now. "I need a little time to think," she said, half-amazed that she hadn’t stuttered. She turned to Willow. "Maybe we could just go into town for a bit; get something to drink or whatever." It was close to six o’clock, but she could no more imagine eating than indulging in sex games with Xander, and both were approximately equal in their appeal. All she knew was that she needed to be away from the man in front of her, and the house, with all of its pictures that lied. And away from Beth, who sat upstairs unaware that they were sisters.
"You’re just going to head back to college now? After everything you just learned?" Nathan sounded incredulous, snapping out of his seeming blankness.
"No," Tara replied evenly. "I just need to get my bearings and think about this a little bit. You’ve known all of this for two decades. I think it’s pretty reasonable that I’d need to catch my breath after everything you’ve told me." Again, she felt a ripple of surprise at her bluntness with her father—with Nathan, she corrected herself. Standing, she was glad to feel Willow’s hand on the small of her back, an unspoken assurance that she would steady her, hold her up.
"So you’ll come back?" Nathan’s voice sounded almost hopeful. Hopeful of what?
"Yes, but I won’t be staying. We all need to get back…home." She saw his jaw tighten at the word, and wasn’t sure whether she felt sorry for him or outraged. Both, she realized, and probably a whole slew of other feelings that I can’t even imagine right now.
Turning to leave the room, she suddenly thought of another house that had been shaken to the ground. "Does Beth know? About any of this?"
Nathan shrugged. "I’m almost certain she doesn’t. I’m sure Margaret told her Quinn was dead, but nothing more than that."
Tara shook her head. Had any of these alleged adults, years ago, thought of the price their children would have to pay for their own fears? She fought the urge to run out of the house. Instead, she walked deliberately toward the kitchen. Reaching the threshold, she saw that the group had pulled on their jackets and windbreakers and were already coming to meet her. So they heard all of that, too. Her vision grew blurry for a moment as she took in the love and gentleness of the faces before her. Afraid that her voice would fail her, she squeezed Willow’s hand in a silent plea.
"Hey guys," her mate said quietly. "Let’s get out of here for awhile." So saying, she turned, and the group filed out of the kitchen door that opened onto the side porch. No one said anything until they reached the car, and then, with no warning, Dawn turned and buried her face against Tara’s shoulder, wrapping her slender arms around her with a strength that Tara couldn’t have guessed she had. Tara was stunned, but only for a moment, and then she enfolded the younger girl tightly into her arms, resting her cheek against the brown hair. She felt Dawn’s shoulders trembling slightly, and murmured, "It’s OK, Dawnie. I’m alright." The others watched with a mixture of discomfort and sadness, but Tara was content to focus on Dawn for this time.
After a couple of minutes, Dawn reluctantly pulled back a few inches from Tara’s embrace, and looked up at her with glistening eyes. She seemed unable to speak, and instead reached up to Tara’s face with shaking fingers, where she hesitantly wiped away the tears that Tara hadn’t even realized she’d shed. Tara managed a tiny smile, and pulled Dawn close to her again, whispering as if sharing a secret with the younger girl alone, "I love you, Dawnie. You’re my family now."
They piled into the car in silence.
*****
Beth must have walked back upstairs. She couldn’t remember doing so, but now she was standing in front of what used to be Tara’s room, so she must have done it.
She watched her hand extend to the doorknob and twist it slowly. Giving a slight push, she saw the objects in the room grow closer with the steps that she must be taking. Finally she reached the bed, and watched as her hands sank to the blue and white quilt and she lowered herself onto the mattress. She didn’t lie down. She just sat, very quietly, and thought about things.
*****
Fifteen minutes after Buffy had slid the car into gear, they were pulling up beside a small diner. The faded red lettering on the window proclaimed this to be "Jack’s Place." Jack, like most Cold Springs proprietors, had apparently seen better days.
The conversation on the way had been slight, after Tara had quietly told them that she needed some time to digest it all. Now, as they took their seats around a large table toward the back of the diner, everyone exchangeduncertain glances, or devoted profound consideration to the knives and forks resting on the chipped gray Formica.
"So—your father isn’t really your father," Anya finally said brightly, apparently unable to tolerate the silent tension anymore. Far better for her, it seemed, was the loudly proclaimed tension.
Xander looked at his girlfriend with a mixture of disbelief and consternation, while Willow’s mouth formed a thin slash and she glared at the ex-demon without remorse. Tara, however, found the observation almost unspeakably amusing—to the point of near-hysteria. Her laughter, quiet at first, quickly gained volume and vigor until tears were streaming down her face. Well, this should just confirm their original suspicions that I’m a freak. But she couldn’t help it, and sherealized with surprise that she didn’t really want to help it.
"Apparently not," she finally managed to reply through her laughter. She knew that everyone but Willow was staring at her as if she’d just told them that she had converted to Satanism and intended to round up a few animals back at the farm for ritual sacrifices.
"I’m sorry," she continued, her laughter finally abating. "It’s just—I can’t believe this. This morning my main concern was whether I had any demon in me. And apparently I don’t, but it’s sort of hard to focus on that part, considering everything I’ve learned in the past two hours." Willow’s hand rested lightly on her leg, giving a gentle squeeze of reassurance.
"Tara," Giles began, clearing his throat. "One can only begin to imagine what you’re going through right now. I suspect there aren’t really words for it."
"Except for ‘hellish,’ ‘unreal,’ and possibly ‘mind-bending,’" Xander added with a sardonic grin. Tara met his eyes, and they shared a brief smile—the kinship of estrangement from one’s kin.
A tall, reed-thin server whose name tag suggested she might respond to "Angie" appeared at their table, plunking down menus and promising to return with water. The conversation halted briefly while they considered their gustatory options. Tara barely glanced at her menu; it was hard to imagine ever being hungry again.
"So, uh, Tara—you’ve eaten here before. Any suggestions?" Buffy asked.
"Stay away from the seafood buffet," Tara replied absently. "It’s basically Mrs. Pauls, deep-fat-fried."
The server returned, depositing glasses of water from her tray. "You folks aren’t from around here, are you?" she inquired. "Pretty sure I’ve never served you before—except for you," she added abruptly, suddenly noticing Tara at the far end of the table.
Tara nodded, not terribly happy to have been recognized.
"What’s your name, Honey?" Both Willow and Dawn glanced up sharply at this, and Tara made a mental note to explain the custom of greeting everyone with terms that implied you were about to sleep with them.
"Tara," she answered simply.
"Who’s your family, Sweetie?" Tara could see Willow and Dawn frowning. Remind me to write a short story about this sometime.
Aloud, she replied, "Maclay."
"Maclay…" Angie frowned, considering the name. Then she brightened. "Oh, you’re Nathan and Julia’s girl." She grinned as she placed Tara in her personal Cold Springs reference guide.
Tara felt her heart constrict to the point of bursting, but managed to nod and give what she hoped was a reasonable facsimile of a smile.
Angie’s own smile dimmed. "Julia was such a nice lady. I’ve only seen your daddy a few times, but your mom came in here a lot. She was one of the classiest people I’ve ever met."
Tara couldn’t imagine speaking, but knew she had to. Swallowing heavily, she said simply, "Thank you. You’re very kind."
Angie gave her a sympathetic smile and turned back to the others. "You all know what you want, or do you need a few more minutes?"
Soon, Angie had taken their orders back to the kitchen, the scribbling of her pencil pausing only briefly when she heard Giles’ English accent. She winked at him and said, "Hope you enjoy our little slice of American cuisine, Honey," which seemed to appease Willow and Dawn considerably.
As she walked away, Tara felt tears pricking her eyes. "Except I’m not, am I? Nathan’s girl, at least." She fell silent, uncomfortably aware of the others’ eyes upon her. She hated being the center of attention, and there was no way that she couldn’t be right now. She was the very reason these people were sitting here in an old diner, preparing to dig into roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy and other home-style eats.
As the silence lingered, she fought the urge to drop her head. Clearing her throat, she said, "I feel like I should apologize for what this day turned into."
A chorus of protests greeted this. "Tara, this is what friends do," Buffy said vehemently. "Besides vanquishing the undead and averting world cataclysm, of course."
"Buffy’s right," Xander nodded. "If you gotta go through this, I’m glad we’re here."
"And I’ve hardly thought about the money we’re losing at the Magic Box," Anya offered earnestly. "I mean, here it is, a beautiful day when people might well be out doing their holiday shopping—I can only guess how much we’d have cleared—but it’s barely crossed my mind."
Willow just shook her head, but Tara reached across the table and squeezed Anya’s hand. "You really do care, don’t you?" she asked, with just a trace of a grin.
"More than most people around here seem to realize," Anya replied pointedly, as Angie returned with their drinks.
When she had left again, Giles leaned forward, speaking softly. "Tara, do you believe your father? All of what he told you?"
Tara had pondered this question on the way into town. Looking at the kind face before her, she shook her head in tired bewilderment. "I think so. I just don’t see what reason he’d have to lie. I think he wrote the letter when and why he said he did; and I…" She was having trouble putting the rest into words. Finally, she bit her lip and said, "I think he was telling the truth about Mom, too…As much as I don’t want to believe she could do such a thing, I think it’s true."
Dawn’s voice rose in protest. "But couldn’t he just be telling you that to hurt you, Tara? I mean, it’s an awful thing to imagine, but he just seems so…so hurt and bitter about their marriage falling apart. Maybe he just wants to taint your image of your mother."
Tara gave a bitter laugh. "Well, he did a good job with that one…I mean, she took Donnie with her. What in the goddess’ name was she thinking about?" She felt her throat tighten as she remembered Nathan’s graphic depiction.
She couldn’t face that yet, she realized. She needed to be alone with Willow for that conversation. Returning to the issue of Nathan’s veracity, she continued, "The thing is, by telling me what he did, he also knew that he would set me free." Her words stunned her even as she spoke them, but she realized it was true. If she wasn’t Nathan’s biological daughter, there was no chance of her having any demon heritage. And such a heritage was the only factor that had even a remote chance of dragging her back to Cold Springs.
The others fell silent as they considered this fact. Finally, Giles murmured, "Nathan seems to be a very…complex man, Tara. It’s hard to know exactly what his motivation is."
"I agree," Buffy nodded. "On the one hand, he has to know how much it would hurt you to hear about your mother and his brother." She halted, looking at Tara as if apologizing for the words. "But on the other hand, he just assured you that you don’t have to worry about any kind of demonic legacy, which means he really does have no scare tactics left to try to force you back home."
Tara felt an unexpected twinge as she replied, "Maybe he’s decided he really doesn’t want me at home." Why should that thought make me sad? It's not like I want to be there…
"I don’t know," Giles said slowly. "From what I could, um, overhear, he didn’t want you to leave just now. I have the impression that he does want you back home. The question is, for what reason?"
Tara looked up to see Angie returning with their food. At Willow’s urging, she had ordered a small cup of baked potato soup and was surprised to find herself savoring its aroma. As everyone focused on their meals, Tara took the opportunity to look more closely at Willow. Her beloved had been unusually quiet since they arrived at the diner. Leaning in toward her, Tara whispered, "Are you OK, Sweetie?"
As Willow looked up at her, Tara realized that her eyes were filled with tears, rendering the usually-clear emerald gaze a glassy opaque. Willow shook her head helplessly.
"I just—I can’t stand watching you go through this, Baby," Willow replied softly, her voice obscured from the others by the clinking of cheap cutlery on cheap plates. "You’ve been through so much—too much—and I just want to do something to make it all end." She drew in a small, hitched breath and added, "It kills me to see you hurt, Tara." At this, a tear finally edged over her lid and trickled down her cheek.
Unable to speak, Tara simply took Willow’s hand and kissed it with infinite gentleness. "As long as you’re my future, I can handle anything about my past," she managed to whisper, and realized that it was true. They held each other’s eyes for a long moment, and then Willow gave her a tiny smile.
Taking a spoonful of the surprisingly good soup, she heard Dawn say, "Well, there’s one good thing: Donnie isn’t your full brother. I mean, you’re nothing like him anyway, but…Well, I don’t know. That just seems good somehow."
"It is," Tara confirmed. "We could argue nature versus nurture until the cows come home—which is about sevenish, around here—and never know for sure why Donnie turned out the way he did, but it does feel good to know we only have one parent in common." Frowning, she added, "Although I have to admit, I felt kinda sorry for him, when Dad—when he talked about beating Donnie the way he did." Not to mention the fact that Donnie was dragged along whenever Mom had a rendezvous with her husband’s brother—my father.
"I know," Xander replied. "I was all set to hate my dad, and then I found out that his father was an alcoholic who used to drag him into bars and basically forget about him until closing time, and then drive him home three sheets to the wind." His voice grew quiet as he remembered. "The gray zone sucks…I like my women adventurous, my tools sharp, and my evil unambiguous." He shook his head.
Willow spoke up now, angrily. "I don’t care what he went through when he was little…I mean, OK, I do, because no kid should be beaten, ever; but that’s no excuse for the way he treated you. He beat on you—he terrorized you—because you were smaller than him. He took out all of his anger on you, and hit you where your parents wouldn’t see it, and there’s no excuse for that." She stopped, and drew in a gulping breath.
The table fell silent, and Tara realized that not everyone knew just how abusive Donnie had been. She could see Willow come to the same realization. Green eyes looked helplessly at her, filled with apology for the spill. Tara could only smile sadly, and took hold of Willow’s hand.
"So Donnie beat you up?" Dawn asked, eyes narrowing. "Like, all the time?"
Tara gave what she suspected was a sorry excuse for a grin. "Well, not all the time…Tuesdays were usually pretty calm." Bad joke, but I just can’t go into the full horror story right here in the middle of Jack’s Diner.
"Can I stake him?" Buffy asked Giles flatly. "If he’s half demon, does that make him fair game?"
"Guys, please—I know you’re just being protective, and I...God, I love it; it’s a totally new experience for me. But…" She sighed, trying to find words. "I’m so tired of all the anger and the hurting and the violence. I have to make my own peace with all this, and inflicting pain to heal from pain seems like a dubious enterprise." She smiled again, this time with more actual humor. "Although if anyone feels the need to knee him in the groin if you ever see him again, I wouldn’t exactly file charges."
"What about Beth?" Anya piped up. "If Nathan’s telling the truth, she’s your half-sister."
"I know," Tara said, shaking her head as another relationship in her life tilted and reshaped itself before her.
"Maybe…maybe the two of you could end up being friends," Dawn offered hesitantly. "You know—you’ve both had such a rough time with your parents; maybe you could sort of help each other out." She stopped, and then shrugged with exaggerated nonchalance. "I mean, Buffy may be a little rough around the edges, but I don’t know how I would have gotten through Mom and Dad’s divorce without her." She glanced at Tara with an embarrassed smile. "But if you ever tell her that, I’ll never drink milkshakes with you again."
Once again, the table fell silent; this time, though, for a different reason. Dawn, however, didn’t realize that, and continued looking at Tara with barely-disguised adoration.
*****
Her mind seemed to be slogging through some nearly-impenetrable mire. From one corner of her mind, she watched herself thinking, and wondered why it was so difficult to put thoughts together. She knew she wasn’t stupid. Why was her brain moving so slowly?
Her father had had an affair with Tara’s mother. Apparently, he had loved her, enough to leave town—leave his daughter—rather than be near her and unable to touch her.
Except he had left two daughters. Tara was also his little girl.
And he was dead.
Her mother hadn’t told her about that.
*****
The ride back to Tara’s house was less constrained than the trip into town. Tara could still feel herself tumbling from anger to grief to disbelief, but she had been shored up by the brief respite. She could face this house, this man, again, knowing that she would soon leave and go back to the place most truly called "home."
"I think I’m ready to leave, at least for now," she said as Buffy tooled down the winding lane. "I need to go back to Sunnydale, think about all of this—and talk everything over with Willow," she added, hoping Willow had forgiven herself for her earlier disclosure. After everything this day has held, Love, do you really think I would be angry about one slip, made in the heat of protecting me?
"Well, whatever you need to do, Tara," Buffy replied, catching Tara’s eye in the rearview mirror. Tara smiled back at her gratefully.
One of my friends is a vampire slayer…The Vampire Slayer. And she wants to kick my tormentor’s ass for me, at the very place where I was most vulnerable. Things really do change…
As they rounded the bend, Tara heard Dawn say from the front seat, "Tara, it looks like there’s company. Do you know who it is?"
Leaning forward to peer between the two sisters, Tara felt her heart begin to pound until it was ringing in her ears. Sinking back against Willow, she said quietly, "It’s Donnie."
*****
To be continued
Edited by: AntigoneUnbound at: 3/12/03 11:26:51 am
) I have to admit that I've been seeing some really interesting similarity between the two... both running from their families and protecting what they see as their world (their perceptions and relationships) with everything they have... I like this new familial tie that could make both of them reconsider their comfortable little views.
Here goes:
, but if he did, well a lot of things about Donnie make sense now. Still that’s no excuse for his behavior. I had the unfortunate luck of witnessing by father’s infidelity, but I don’t go around using that as an excuse for anything I do in my life, good or bad. If anything it proved that my mother made the best choice and left him after he failed to stay faithful having already been given a second chance. 
.
I got upset one time and she said, “you act just like your father when you’re angry, you even make the same facial expressions”. I started to wonder if I was going to end up a being a perpetual cheater just like him, amongst other things. Hmmm…
. Yep that’s it. I gonna go now and take a breather. 
. Quinn wasn't your ideal father-type as near as I can tell, Beth was pretty much raised by her mom. Speaking of Beth; I have no problems with her, what she wants doesn't conflict with what Tara wants... as matter of fact it fits neatly 
But only a total neurotic can stretch things as she does:
). As for the update itself another thought-provoking chapter! 
at: 3/9/03 2:20:14 pm
. Does this mean it’s official and not a terrible nightmare? Tara’s mom did cheat? And this entire ordeal is actually real. Damn
. Here I was hoping all this was a dream sequence with a happy ending soon to come. 
. I too am very surprised that Tara is still upright and hasn’t fainted or something. She’s on the verge though. This is too much info to find out in one day. Thank god Willow is there and the scoobies bless them all. How much worse can things get? Oh wait Donnie can show up and be the icing on the cake. 
