by AntigoneUnbound » Sun Jul 13, 2003 11:10 pm
Gods Served and Abandoned
Disclaimers: I don’t own them; Joss does. He sucks. Life isn’t fair. The end.
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: Rocks my world!
*****
Part 36
*****
She isn’t real. She says she loves me; she says she loved my mother. But she isn’t real.
It felt as if she had been given the chance to wander about a beautiful, inviting house and then abruptly told that it was actually crumbling, would tumble and collapse around her.
"Tara, do you understand what I’m saying?" Beverly’s voice seemed to come from a great distance.
Numbly, she replied, "You were created. Like Dawn. You’re energy made flesh."
Beverly’s laughter was brittle. "Yes, well, I guess that’s pretty much it, at least the Cliff Notes version. Basically, I’m an inter-dimensional security guard."
"So you didn’t really exist until recently? I mean, exist in human form?" Willow asked incredulously.
"Nope. I only picked up this mortal coil a few months ago. Apparently I’m pretty old, too—although not as old as the Key. But the word ‘I’ is kind of misleading, because the energy had no consciousness, no mind. I can pretty much guarantee that the energy didn’t like Buffalo wings."
Tara knew that her aunt—that this person in front of her—was trying to make this easy for her, but she also knew that the effort was in vain.
So I’ve lost her, too. Let me know when the leaving’s finally over, God, OK? I’m just gonna keep my eyes closed until then.
Her own voice was leaden as she met Beverly’s gaze and said, "Tell me. Tell us. What’s your story?" She could see Beverly wince slightly at the words, but she didn’t have the energy to be more gracious.
"My story…OK, let’s see…Basically, I was molded into human form by the same monks who transformed Dawn. I was given memories the same way she was; everyone who would have reason to believe I exist, from the time of my putative birth until this moment, absolutely believes it. Nathan believes he has a half-sister; if my parents were alive, they would be utterly convinced that they had a daughter named Beverly."
"But when they died," Willow argued, "they believed they had two sons."
"Right," Beverly acknowledged. "But Nathan can recall conversations he had with our mother about me. And Quinn," she continued, glancing at Tara, "he really did call me when he was in the hospital."
"So you’re supposed to protect the Key," Willow continued thoughtfully. "Even though you were…placed in Dallas, hundreds of miles away from Dawn."
"The monks knew the danger of having all of the Protectors in one place, just like they knew that having only one Protector at all would be lunacy."
"So how many are there? Protectors?" Willow asked.
"I don’t know," Beverly shrugged. "I think it’s one of those deals where they figured it was safer if we didn’t know about each other. That way we couldn’t risk each other’s safety if we were captured."
Tara looked up sharply. "What did Glory mean when she said she thought you’d been destroyed?"
Beverly’s face paled suddenly, and she looked at her hands for several seconds. When she spoke, pain radiated through her voice. "Somehow, Glory got wind of the fact that there were Protectors sent to guard the Key. She managed to track some of us. The ones she found…Their deaths were not pleasant ones." She closed her eyes as if trying to ignore some horrific movie.
"But you—today…" Willow fumbled for words. "I mean, what kept her from destroying you today?"
Beverly looked up and for a moment, there was a flicker of the familiar light in her eyes. "Miss Glory has some issues with the Protectors themselves. We repel her in some pretty profound ways." Her voice grew somber again. "The others…She sent her fucking little sycophant minions to kill them, with instructions to torture them into giving away information about other Protectors." She looked at Tara, and there was pride in her voice when she said, "She didn’t believe them when they said they didn’t know. I heard that one of them said that the only other Protector she knew of was Barbra Streisand. If it ever comes to it, I just pray that I have the same defiance."
"Who will you pray to?" Tara asked, her voice empty.
"Whoever listens and cares enough to come through for me," Beverly replied without hesitation or self-consciousness.
There was an uncomfortable silence, until Willow asked, "So how exactly do you protect the Key?"
Beverly grinned. "You mean, what’s my superpower? Well, from what I can tell, we basically weaken Glory with our presence. We disorient her; she feels the urge to get away from us as quickly as possible. Sorta like listening to Howard Stern," she nodded thoughtfully. "Frankly, I would’ve liked something a little more, you know…impressive. A little superhuman strength; maybe the ability to transport her to another dimension. Instead, I’m basically high-powered body odor."
"How did you find out?" Tara asked. She knew that the being in front of her, who had said she loved her, desperately wanted some sign of affection or compassion from her, but she simply didn’t have it right now, and she wasn’t sure it would be pulling into the station any time soon.
"Well, I was just minding my own business…preparing lesson plans the way I’d been doing—or so I thought—for the last few years. Tanya and I had taken a two-week vacation in Colorado…we’re both ski nuts. We get back home and I’m finally making myself sit down to prepare for the new school year, when I find this book in one of my desk drawers—it was wedged all the way in the back, and I wouldn’t have even found it if I hadn’t had this weird sense that I had to look back there. And when I say ‘book,’ I don’t mean a concise, nicely-bound treatise on Keys and dimensional portals. This was one seriously old text, and the language was basically a series of symbols, unlike anything I’d ever encountered before."
"So how did you decipher it?" Willow asked, clearly fascinated. "How did you find someone to even recognize it, much less someone you could trust enough to translate it all?"
Beverly gave her a droll smile. "That’s when I really knew something was up, because one minute I was staring at this ancient volume, thinking, ‘What the hell is this?’ And the next minute, I was reading it. Just zipping right along like I was reading my daily horoscope."
"God, you must have freaked," Willow breathed.
"And that is what we English teachers like to call ‘understatement,’" Beverly grinned.
"Did you believe it? I mean, right away?"
"You know, it may sound weird, but I totally believed it. I was reading it, and it was like I just recognized it. My life up until then had been one truth, and now there was this other truth; and it didn’t negate the first one, but it also resonated so deep inside of me that I knew it was all true."
"What about Tanya?" The question was out before Tara had even considered it. She watched as Beverly’s grin faded.
"Tanya…Oh goddess…I had absolutely no idea what to do. I loved her so much—I love her so much—and I had just discovered that prior to a few months ago, I hadn’t existed in this form. And here she thought—we both thought—that we’d been together for years. And that’s the thing…" Beverly’s voice became urgent. "For all intents and purposes, we had been together. We had built a life together; we were planning a commitment ceremony. All of it was real." She leaned back, staring out the window once more, and Tara knew that she was reliving that time. "Finally, I realized that I couldn’t keep this from her. She had a right to know, and if she left me…God, I could barely form the thought in my head, much less imagine how I’d actually survive if she did leave me. Forget annihilation by a hell god; I’d just crumple up and die."
"What did she say?" Willow asked, her eyes wide. Once again, a wry smile creased its way across Beverly’s face.
"OK, so I tell her I have to talk to her; there’s something I have to tell her. This is three days after my epiphany in cuneiform. And I’ve been noticing that there’s this awkwardness between us that’s never been there, ever, in our relationship, and I figure it’s because she’s picking up on my little pile o’ angst, right? So I start in with the whole thing, just figuring I’ll start at the beginning and keep it simple—you know, ‘Honey, apparently I’m a transformed ball of energy. I have to protect another transformed ball of energy from being used by a hell god to open the doors between dimensions. Hope you’re OK with that.’ And I get about one full sentence out of my mouth and then Tanya asks, ‘Babe, does this have anything to do with gods and other dimensions?’ Turns out she’d been dreaming of exactly the scenario that I’d gone through, every night for three nights running." Beverly shook her head, laughing at the memory. "At that point, we did what all women in same-sex relationships do: we processed it all. And to condense an incredibly complex story into pamphlet form, she decided that she wanted to be with me no matter what. She said she had scheduled some one-on-one time with her heart, which told her that leaving me would be giving in to fear. The way she put it, there wasn’t any erasing what she flat-out knew about us, which was that we belonged together." Beverly hastily swiped her hand across her eyes, and then shook her head. "As you can probably tell, I have a pretty incredible partner."
"I know the feeling," Willow murmured, and Tara held on to her hand more tightly.
Willow’s real. I know she’s real. And as long as she’s real, I can handle anything.
"So why did you come to Sunnydale?" she asked abruptly. "It wasn’t really to see me, was it?"
Beverly looked taken aback for a moment, and then said simply, "Actually, Tara, it was to see you. I didn’t know Dawn was here. After we spoke on the phone, I just knew that I needed to talk to you, see you in person. Believe me, I nearly fell out of my chair when Dawn walked into that pizza parlor last night."
Tara battled between wanting to believe her and fearing that she had been just a convenient excuse for Beverly to be closer to the Key.
Eyes narrowing, Beverly asked, "You think I don’t really care about you, is that it? That I found out Dawn was here and used seeing you as a way to keep an eye on her."
Tara didn’t trust herself to speak.
"Oh, Sweetie—what can I tell you? Maybe the monks, or fate, or whatever, made it so imperative to me that I come see you. All I can say is that when I talked to you on the phone, I wasn’t thinking about the Key or Glory or anything even remotely mystical—I was thinking about my niece, whom I love very much." She fell quiet, looking at her hands. "I was also afraid that I wouldn’t…I didn’t know when any of this cosmic upheaval was going to happen, you know? And I was afraid I wouldn’t get to see you again if I didn’t go now." Her voice, as she finished, was barely audible.
"But why didn’t you tell us?" Tara asked, the anguish finally creeping into her voice.
"Tara, I had no idea you were mixed up in anything supernatural, much less Our Lady of Skankiness herself. I figured you were two college women, going to classes and attending protests and living off of macaroni and cheese. What was I supposed to do? Lean forward in the middle of Red Lobster and say, ‘Hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you: I’m a transformed ball of energy, created by monks to prevent the doors of hell from opening.’ Yeah, right…"
"But…still…" Tara argued persuasively.
"Besides," Beverly broke in, leaning forward, "I’m not the only one who kept a little secret. You two didn’t say anything about being witches, did you?"
"But you were so dead-set against it," Willow countered. "You made it sound like only the marginally-lucid believed in such things."
"OK, good point," Beverly acknowledged grudgingly. "I was hoping you two were way far away from anything that could be magical or dangerous."
"Way far away?" Willow echoed. "We practically pay room and board at magical and dangerous." Looking closely at Beverly, she added, "Why couldn’t you tell when you met us? I mean, one look at Dawn and you knew; but you didn't recognize Tara and I?"
"'Tara and me,'" Beverly corrected her absently. Catching Willow's bemused gaze, she shrugged. "Hey, as far as I'm concerned, I've been an English teacher a lot longer than I've been a mystical guardian. Anyway," she continued, "I guess my receivers are set to pick up Key waves. Nothing went off with you two or with Buffy."
"I get that," Willow mused. Shaking her head, she continued, "This is just too bizarre. I mean, what are the odds that all of us would be involved with the Key?"
But Beverly disagreed. "Actually, it’s probably not that bizarre at all. I mean, yeah—from a statistical perspective, you wouldn’t predict it. But doesn’t it seem, when you think about it, that none of this is random at all?"
"What do you mean?" Tara asked, frowning.
"I mean that we all ended up here—right here, in this room, connected in the ways that we are—because we were supposed to. Tara, why did you decide to attend UC-Sunnydale?"
"Because they have a great literature department, and they offered me a good scholarship package."
"But didn’t you get offers from other places? Places with great lit departments, that offered you good financial aid?" Beverly persisted.
"Well, yes…" Tara conceded.
"But you chose this school—where you met Willow, and fell in love, and also honed your magical ability and joined the Vampire Slayer in her crusade against evil. Why?"
"I guess…I guess because it just felt like the place to be; like I should be here, even though I had no earthly idea what adventures awaited me." She glanced at Willow, who was smiling that one smile, the one that said she just adored Tara; and for the first time in hours, she felt a tiny glimmer of lightness.
"That’s what I mean," Beverly nodded. "It seems so random, so statistically unlikely, and yet we all end up where we’re supposed to be, or at least that’s what I believe. I think I’m supposed to be here, and you two are supposed to be here, and be together, and Tara, I think I’m supposed to be your aunt. As far as I’m concerned, I am your aunt."
But grief, hot and searing, wrenched through Tara so sharply that she fought to catch her breath. "But everything you told me—all those stories about knowing my mom and idolizing her and being at her wedding…None of it’s true. That never happened. You didn’t know my mother at all."
Beverly recoiled as if slapped, and then she rocked forward and almost shouted, "Don’t you dare say that! I did know her, and I loved her. I met her when Nathan brought her to the house the first time, and I drew pictures for her that she always made a fuss over and said how pretty they were. I was the flower girl at their wedding, and I was so nervous about messing up that I almost made myself sick, and Julia sat down and pulled me onto her lap, even though she was already in her wedding gown, and she told me that it was OK to be scared because she was scared, too; she was scared she would trip and fall in her big fancy dress but she said we could both get through it." The words were pouring out of her now, punctuated with half-sobs.
"I remember all of that, Tara, and don’t you dare try to take it away from me. Because I don’t know how much of a future I have, but no one gets to take away my past. I remember all of that; I remember it, and it keeps me sane to know that people like Julia and Tanya can love me."
And then she stopped fighting the sobs and wrapped her arms around her waist as if trying to hug herself.
Willow says I do that, when I’m too sad to talk. And then she takes me in her arms and rocks me a little bit and after a while I know I won’t drown in the sadness.
Willow, she knew, was wiser about things of the heart than she gave herself credit for. So Tara trusted that wisdom now, pushing aside her own grief and anger, and moving over onto the bed to take her aunt into her arms. She didn’t really even know what she said, only that she said the words with kindness.
Within seconds, Willow had joined her, and Tara recognized, in some deep, ancient way, that she was part of something special—here, in this moment, these women who had ended up where they were needed and who tried so very valiantly to do the right thing.
This is my family. Am I really anything but blessed?
*****
To Be Continued
*****