Walking Shadows

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

It was an almost perfect day. The thin stripes of white cloud were the only things that marred the blue sky, a late summer breeze rippled past and took away the worst of the afternoon heat.

She held out an arm slowly and turned her hand palm up, as if expecting a single rain drop to fall from the sky into the centre of her hand.

She turned to her left. Xander stood there, tall and broad shouldered as he had become these past couple of years, not at all like the boy she'd known in her childhood, or the geeky teen he'd once been. He was older now, his face already beginning to develop those lines that signified life experience, laughter, love and sorrow.

She turned right. Buffy stood there, her eyes pleasantly closed as she felt the air trickle along her skin. Her blonde hair cascaded down her back in an endless wave. She stood, shoulders back, a proud, defiant stance.

She felt protected on all sides. She could lean right or left and not fall down, not have to worry if the hands that held her would stay true or become laboured and falter under her weight. She knew she was light. She cast such a small shadow, nothing compared to the solid rock that was Xander, or the pure presence that was Buffy.

Looking ahead, she noticed the sand for the first time, an endless desert before her that stretched to become a mirage on the horizon. Small prickly plants grew at her feet, tickling her ankles.

A figure was walking towards her, holding out her hands in welcome. A girl clad in a long white dress that fluttered around her as she walked. The bodice was tight and emphasised her full breasts, the long ash-blonde hair was tied loosely back off perfect white shoulders with a blue ribbon that matched her eyes.

Hands outstretched, she left the protection of her friends and walked forward to meet the girl. Their bodies met and she felt warmth. The heat spread through their limbs, melting through their bodies and rushing towards the ground. She gasped as it passed through her. She felt it claim her body and join it with the Earth. Her body went stiff with pleasure and she panted for breath. The girl was the same, bright-eyed and breathless.

Tara.

It was a name she whispered reverently, as if to say it too loud would mean risking the world coming to take the vision away.

Xander and Buffy walked up behind her, each placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at each of them and smiled, feeling perfect happiness.

When she looked back, Tara was gone.

"Where did she go?" She asked, grief-stricken that the vision should be ripped away from her so soon. "The girl, where did she go?"

Buffy looked puzzled. "Who was it?"

"Tara!" She yelled loudly into the void. The named echoed across the sands.

Xander frowned. "Will, whoever it was, she's gone."

"Gone? Why?"

Buffy leaned over, whispering in her ear. "You made a choice. You chose me. You chose power."

"I didn't! I don't remember making that choice!" Hot tears rolled down her cheeks. Where had that feeling of safety gone? Now she felt scared, vulnerable. The open sands were gone to be replaced with craggy cliff tops. A stiff breeze blew across, threatening to knock them off their feet.

Xander said something, but his voice was lost on the wind.

"Xander, What?" She cried out. She held her hands near her ears, trying to block out the whistling of the wind. Xander shook his head.

A hand tapped her on the back and she turned, falling into the safety of strong arms. "I don't know what's happening!" She whispered fiercely against his chest.

Giles patted her softly on the head. "Respect what you are," he whispered softly. "Or lose it all."

She looked up, confused. "Who are you?"

Giles slipped away from her arms. She was holding nothing. Painfully, she dropped one hand to her side, reaching out to Buffy and Xander with the other. And the single raindrop fell. Or was it a teardrop? Her own tears?

She couldn't tell any more.

••••

The world rushed in, an ache that settled into the back of her head. Her mouth felt drier than it had ever been, a deep, soul-sucking thirst. Willow blinked, her eyes reacting painfully to the light as she struggled to open them.

"Good morning sleepy-head." A soothing voice came from somewhere beside her. She reached an arm over wearily and found the reassuring shape of Tara.

Oh thank God. "Did a truck hit me?" She croaked, shaking off the last tendrils of nightmare that gripped her.

Tara smiled. "No, just a minor demon. And I don't think she hit you. Buffy-bot would have mentioned it."

"How long have I been asleep?" Willow tried to sit up but was immediately discouraged by the wave of nausea that followed.

"No! Hey, take it easy. You're not well enough to get up yet." Tara placed a soft hand behind Willow's head and eased her lover back down onto the pillow. "You went in and out of consciousness for two days. You've been sleeping since we brought you back from the hospital."

"Hospital?"

Tara nodded. "You were in bad shape."

Willow lifted the blankets gingerly to inspect her body for bruises. "I don't look too damaged, considering."

"It was more the 'sucking the essence from your body' type of damage."

"Oh," she replied. "Bet that confused the doctors, huh?"

"A little bit." Tara said. She smoothed back wisps of hair from Willow's forehead. "I was really worried about you, Will."

"I see that." Willow gave her a small smile. "I'm OK."

Tara shook her head. "You're far from OK. But you will be, with lots of rest and consistent pampering."

"But I don't have time for…" Willow started, but stopped at the look in Tara's eyes. "…I guess I'll be lying back down in bed right about now."

"I think that would be a good idea." Tara said.

The firmness in her tone made Willow gulp. "Am I in trouble?"

Tara weighed her options in her mind. It can wait. It's not like she can do much magick right now. Whatever we need to talk about, it can wait until she's well again. "Why would you think that?"

"You've got that 'cross me and you die' look." Willow said.

Tara leant over to kiss Willow lightly on the forehead. "It's more of a 'you will submit to pampering' look. There's a subtle yet important difference."

"Will there be chicken soup involved?" Willow asked, a child-like glint in her eyes.

Tara nodded affirmative. "Definitely."

"And can I have my books?"

Tara thought about this a moment. "Tomorrow, maybe. After lots of sleep."

"Deal." Willow rolled over in bed, her muscles still feeling the after effects of her ordeal in the demon dimension. Carefully she stretched out her back and gave a satisfied sigh when it popped.

Tara flinched at the sound "That has to hurt."

"Yeah, but in a good way," Willow replied. She snuggled back into her pillows.

They heard a soft tapping on the bedroom door. "Knock knock!" A cheerful male voice drifted in from the hallway.

Tara walked over and opened the door. "Anya, Xander, come on in."

"Is the invalid awake yet?" He whispered.

Willow chuckled softly. "I'm awake. Barely."

"I predicted bruises. Are there bruises?" Anya queried.

"No, no bruises. Not the kind you can see anyway." Tara shook her head. "She's kind of tender from the inside out."

Willow winced as she attempted to roll onto her back. "Yeah, like someone tenderised me with a meat mallet."

"Well, we come bearing gifts." Anya declared, plopping herself down on the edge of the bed. "Xander tells me its customary to give silly tokens of our affection in order to speed your recovery." Tara rolled her eyes. Anya continued on, oblivious. "So, we brought you this." She held out a small golden flask.

Willow took it, turning it over in shaky hands. "It's beautiful. What is it?"

"One of our suppliers brought it in last week. It's very amusing." Anya reached over and pulled the small cork from the top of the bottle. "Now, think of a smell that you really like."

"Umm… lavender." Willow said.

Instantly a waft of lavender began to circulate around the room. Willow sniffed the air appreciatively. "Neat. It's like never-ending incense."

Xander nodded. "And we guarantee that it is actually a silly little toy. I even rubbed it to make sure no genies were hiding inside."

"Xander, genies need clean bottles. Do you know what a thousand years in a scented bottle would do to your sinuses?" Anya said.

"Yes well, no three wishes for you young lady. This has no hidden powers. It's really harmless."

Tara laughed. "Unless someone thought 'three-day-old food' and it started to stink."

"Thanks guys." Willow handed the flask to Tara who placed it safely on their bedside table.

"But that's not all!" Xander pulled something rectangular wrapped in silver paper from behind his back.

"Guys, you shouldn't have. This is too much." Willow protested, her head beginning to ache from the excess of lavender.

Anya waved her off. "Oh, this is an old one."

"Old one?"

"Well, we had it made for you before, you know, we got sucked into an evil demon dimension," Xander added.

"She wasn't really that evil. I think she was just kind of defending herself," Willow said.

"Well, in any case, we had planned to give this to you that day at the Magic Box, but with all the excitement it kind of got forgotten. Here."

He handed the package to Willow, who opened it carefully. "I have no idea what this could be…oh." She stopped, holding the carved piece of wood in her hands.

"Let me see," Tara said, sliding onto the bed beside Willow. She eyed the small plaque over warily. The piece of wood had been ornately carved with small trees intertwining and stained a rich mahogany.

"Xander it's… beautiful." Willow said, breathless. "I don't know about what it says though." She held up the plaque so the words Willow ~ The Boss of Us could be clearly seen. She raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Well, it's true. You've kind of been promoted to captain of the Scoobies now. At least temporarily." He shrugged, trying to play down the moment. "Just one more award for the trophy case."

"It isn't just one more and you know it." Willow admonished. She stared at the plaque, the words burning into her heart. "It means so much more than that. It means that you trust me. All of you." She looked up at Tara who answered her wide-eyed surprise with a supportive smile. "Did you know about this?"

Tara held up her hands. "I'm totally innocent. I had no idea."

"No one knew. It was our secret." Anya said happily.

Xander shifted uncomfortably. "Except the guys at the workshop who kept asking if I was gay for carving sissy-girl stuff."

"Well, your great sacrifice is much appreciated." Willow giggled.

There was a burst of activity as Dawn bounced into the room, school bag flying from her left shoulder. "Is Willow awake yet?"

"Well, that noise would have woken her if she wasn't," Tara scolded. Dawn carried on as if she hadn't heard, flying onto the bed and into Willow's arms.

Willow held the relieved girl tightly. "Dawnie, I'm OK, really."

"I was so afraid I'd lose you. I could bear to lose anyone, not again." Dawn shuddered into her shoulder, big tears of happiness falling from her eyes.

"Ssssh, it's OK." Willow looked up into the faces of all her friends. They stared back, guilt in the eyes of every one of them. She wondered if her own eyes looked like that.

We can't tell her. We can't give her that hope. She wouldn't understand. She needs to move on as if there's nothing going on, as if there's no hope that Buffy is coming back.

She saw her own thoughts reflected in their faces, as clearly as if she'd spoken the words aloud.

"Don't ever leave me." Dawn whispered, clinging on.

"I won't Dawnie, I promise." Willow revelled in the hug, letting the warmth and innocence of the young girl's hug fill her with peace. She shook off the lingering visions in her head from her dream. Turning her head slightly, her eyes met Tara's, and she smiled.

Tara looked down at her feet. Her two girls, her family, lay on the bed hugging each other for dear life. She wanted to reach out and touch them both, to feel connected somehow with what they were feeling at that moment.

Something stopped her. She couldn't have that connection with Willow right now, not while so many doubts and fears lingered inside her heart. It ate at her that this thing, the magick, the power that flowed inside her just like it did in Willow, was causing her so much indecision.

Tara watched them, her insides churning. She looked up at Xander's smiling face. He's just happy to have Willow back. He isn't thinking about spells or consequences. His friend is getting better, and he loves her, and everything is good again. Or as good as it can be.

She wanted that absolute trust in Willow back. She wanted to love and be loved like her whole life depended on it. Watching Dawn and Willow embracing made her realise that more than ever before.

"Come on everyone, Will needs her rest now, OK?" She said.

Willow looked at her gratefully, exhaustion burning in her eyes. "Yeah, I'm beat already."

Dawn sat up, reluctant to loosen her grip. "We'll make you some dinner, so you can have something when you wake up. Your favourite."

"That sounds great." Willow smiled, her grip on consciousness rapidly failing.

She barely registered when Xander leaned down to kiss her forehead, his hand resting lightly on her head in farewell. She thought she heard his voice say goodbye. Then the joy of Tara's lips brushing against her own.

Then darkness took her and she drifted away into pleasant dreams.

•••••

"OK, so what's our next step?" Xander mumbled between bites of chicken.

Willow chewed thoughtfully on a piece of steamed broccoli. "We finish the research, finish what we've started. Anya, any progress on that urn?"

"Well, all my suppliers in North America are tapped out. Someone tried to sell me a fake. I asked him if it still spawned live spiders on the hour every hour, and he assured me it does, regularly." She snorted.

"The urn spawns spiders?" Xander cringed.

"No. That's how we know it's fake." Willow said.

"It just fills up with snake blood on the full moon," Anya added, straight-faced.

Xander choked on his chicken. "You're kidding?"

She nodded happily. He glared.

"Just tell me, can you get it?" Willow snapped.

Anya turned, her smile fading. "Of course I can. I just need more time."

Tara frowned. "Everyone is doing the best they can, Will."

With effort, Willow smiled. "Sorry, I guess I'm still a bit jumpy."

"What's there to be jumpy about?" Xander grimaced. "Oh I know. We're talking about raising the dead."

"Sweetie, you've been out of bed for two days. Why don't you give yourself time to recover?" Tara rubbed her shoulders.

"Not while Buffy is still…" she swallowed, her voice scratchy. "Don't you see, what happened only shows us how important it is for us to get Buffy back. We got out of this one, next time we might not be so lucky."

Xander smiled. "It wasn't luck, Will. It was you."

"And now look at me? Weak, helpless, barely able to walk three feet without being out of breath…"

"Your body just needs time to heal." Tara insisted. "You practically had all your life force sucked out. Believe me, I know that can be a bit tiring."

"And I'm not going to let it happen again," Willow said, eyes flashing.

They fell into silence, each of them pushing their remaining food around on their plates, no one feeling particularly hungry.

Willow sighed. "I know what you guys are thinking."

"That the peas need more salt?" Anya asked.

Willow ignored her. "You think I'm obsessing."

"Obsessed is a strong word…" Xander flailed. "But, you have been a little fixated lately."

"And I think you're all being incredibly selfish." She stated.

Tara turned, shocked. "Willow!"

"Well you are! Everyone is only thinking about themselves, how scared they are, how much they're afraid to do what has to be done." Willow glared at them each in turn. "Well, I'm not afraid. But I do need your help."

"Y-you've got a f-funny way of showing it. The way you're going on anyone would think you've g-got it all figured out." Tara snapped, throwing her napkin onto the table in disgust. She picked up her plate and stalked into the kitchen, the door slamming angrily behind her.

Willow watched her go, bewildered. "Tara..?"

Xander gave a small cough of embarrassment. "Will, you were out of line there."

"Out of line? All I want to do is get on with it."

"There's nothing any of us wants more than to have this over and done with, but now isn't that time." He reached over to hold her hand. "Right now, we all have to live with how things are, without Buffy. You coming across all Sergeant Major isn't helping any of us with the adjusting."

"You're angry all the time. It isn't like you." Anya added carefully.

Willow snorted, recognising that as the closest to tactful Anya was ever likely to get. "I don't mean to be."

"Yeah well, Tara is bearing the brunt of it. I don't know if you've noticed, but she's been looking a little stressed lately." Xander said.

Willow's brows creased. "We're all stressed…"

Anya lost what little patience she had. "She never sits down."

"What?"

"She never sits. She paces, she moves around, she fidgets, then she cries."

"Anya!" Xander interrupted. "Just let it go."

Willow's scowl softened. "Cries? Tara's been crying?"

"I found her in the shop looking over some book of spells, crying. I had to take the book away - it could have gotten water damaged!"

"What book?"

"Does it matter, Will? We're just trying to tell you, there's more to the big picture here." Xander said.

Willow digested this, her face blank. Finally she looked up. "I need to talk to Tara." She got up and left the room, leaving Xander and Anya alone at the table.

Anya raised an eyebrow. "I think that went well."

Xander shook his head sadly. "I just wish things could be like they were before. This is all so creepy, like we've got this thing hanging over us." He said. "I hate to say it, but sometimes I almost wish this weren't possible. That we could just…"

"Let her go?"

"Yeah." He sighed, dropping his head onto his hands.

She said nothing. There wasn't anything left to say.

••••

Tara didn't hear Willow enter the room. Her head was buried under a pillow, her legs curled up towards her chest.

"Tara," Willow whispered. "Tara, look at me."

Tara slowly lifted the pillow from her head, eyes bloodshot from crying. "You have more to say?"

"I know this sounds lame but… I didn't mean to hurt you."

Tara could feel her heart ripping. "I feel like you're changing, Will. You're letting all this change you somehow."

"Well, losing your best friend has a weird habit of changing your perspective on things," she said, her voice weary. "I thought you were fine with this."

"Well, I guess I'm not."

Willow's face fell. "What?"

"Let's face it, you'd rather gamble with the possibility of unleashing hell than deal with losing Buffy forever."

"Is that so wrong?" Willow replied, stubbornly. "How many thousands of times did Buffy risk her life for us?"

"That was different Will, and you know it."

"Why?" She argued. "Why is it so different? She used the powers she had to save all of us. Now it's me with the power. Doesn't that make it my responsibility to save her?"

"OK, let's talk about responsibility? Is it responsible to mess with this kind of power? Do you know what could happen if something goes wrong? Do you care?" Tara folded her arms tightly. "I'm sure Buffy never ran off without some kind of idea of what damage she could cause if she screwed up."

"You think I don't care?" Willow asked, incredulous.

"It's not that I think you don't care, it's just that I think your judgement is a bit clouded here." Tara stood up, trying to keep her voice level. "You're running on all these intense emotions. You're confused, angry…"

"You're damn right I'm angry!"

"Anger turns people bad, Will."

"Thank you Obi-Wan."

Tara's eyes narrowed. "Sarcasm isn't going to help."

Willow sighed. She tried a different tack. "I've done the research. I've read the books. I've experimented with the control, the concentration I'm going to need. There is nothing that is going to go wrong."

"But what if it does?" Tara insisted.

Willow stared. "Again with the doubts! Do you honestly think I would do anything that I thought would put anyone in danger?"

"How about putting you in danger? I care about that more than anything else."

Willow held out her hands, her voice shaking. "I'm going to be fine. Baby, I promise."

Tara held off, keeping distance between them, knowing if Willow touched her it would be all over. "This is me Will. I've done a bit of reading of my own. I know about the dangers. You can't fool me."

"Yes. And you know me, you trust me."

They stared at each other in silence, both knowing that Willow had played her trump card.

Tara ached all over. She collapsed into a chair. "Why are you doing this, Will? To save Buffy? Or to help yourself, to save yourself from the pain?" She shook her head miserably. "Are you doing it just to prove you can?"

"This is not just some power trip!" Willow cried. "This is for Buffy! God, where is she? What kind of torment is she going through? Wouldn't she do everything in her power to save me if it was me lying there?" She whispered, voice going hoarse with grief. She knelt down in front of Tara, eyes pleading. "Wouldn't you?"

Tara wrapped Willow's hands in her own. "I keep asking myself that."

"And?"

"And I don't know what I would do, if I was you right now." She answered, evasively.

Willow leaned forward, grim determination setting in her face. "But you'll help me? Tara, I need you, baby. I can't do any of this without you."

She hesitated. "If I say those words, I can't go back. We can't go back."

Willow shook her head. "No."

A minute went by. Two. For Tara it could have been hours. Days.

"This scares me Will. It really scares me." She felt herself starting to shake.

"It scares me too."

That's not what you said before! Tara thought grimly. You should be scared. You should be scared out of your wits. Because if you're not, then you're in way over your head, and dammit you know it…

"Tara?"

Tara lifted her eyes, searching Willow's face for something, anything, to make her feel better about what she was about to do.

She knew what Willow was asking for. From this moment on she wouldn't be able to question, to hesitate. She'd have to help with the preparations. She'd have to support Willow if the others questioned anything they were doing. One voice, one purpose.

Her whole being fought against it.

"Tara? Please." Willow begged. "I need to know you're with me."

Finally, painfully, Tara leaned over and kissed Willow softly on the lips. A kiss of assent, of undying love and support. A kiss of faith. It was the only way she knew how to make this kind of bargain.

As they drew apart Willow's eyes were shining, filled with hope. She clutched Tara's hands tighter, held them up to her lips and kissed them. "Thank you."

Tara felt herself nodding. Her thoughts raced. So many doubts, so many consequences she was sure they couldn't see now but that lurked out there, just waiting for them.

What have I done? What if we save Buffy and she comes back. What then? Who will you be my love? You've got shadows walking beside you now everywhere you go. Is this what they need to finally have you?

She shuddered. Oh God, am I helping them?

Tara held out her arms and Willow melted into them. She could feel Willow's pulse racing, sure that her own heart was beating equally as fast.

"It's all going to turn out fine. We'll get Buffy back, then everything will be the way it was. I know it." Willow whispered.

Tara smiled softly. It's naïve, but I want to believe that. Right or wrong, having made a decision about this one thing felt better than wavering back and forth, she thought. And Willow was absolutely right about one thing. "I do trust you."

"Then we do this thing. Together."

"Together." Tara agreed.

THE END

Back to fiction index