Just Beneath the Surface by WillowX

Rating: PG-17
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, 20th Century Fox, Mutant Enemy, Sand Dollar Television and Kuzui Enterprises. Buffy is distributed by 20th Century Fox and the Warner Brothers Television Network.
Distribution: http://www.geocities.com/willowneedsbuffy/ http://mysticmuse.net
Feedback: Yes, please
Pairing: Willow/Buffy

Summary: Set in Season 7 at the end of Same Time, Same Place.

Willow spent years fighting by my side. Years! In that time she endured sleepless nights, gut wrenching terror, and heart pounding fear. Together we faced most of the demos that go bump in the night and came out like winners. I was pushed into the battle unwillingly but Willow chose to do it. She chose it! Day in and day out she sacrificed her life for my calling. In my eyes she was truly a champion and then, several months ago, after everything Willow had done, after everything she had sacrificed...she tried ending the world herself.

I couldn't believe it as it was happening. It was almost as if I was watching it on television, the whole scene unraveling itself before of me, my best friend turning into my worse enemy. The world seemed to move in slow motion as I struggled to understand what had gone wrong. I wondered what happened to my friend. I mean, she flipped, I knew that, but it was the level of flippyness that freaked me out. Willow, my champion, became a murderer. A murderer! The sight of Warren's skinless body strung up on the trees, the smell of burning flesh in the air, and the knowledge that Willow did that will forever haunt me. She became a murderer and it was my fault.

Well, not directly, but it was my fault. It was so my fault! She studied magic to help me, to assist me in my battles, to become my dutiful sidekick. Tara was shot because of me. It was me Warren was trying to kill! Me! I mean...forget the magic! Forget Tara! For God's sake, if it hadn't been for me Willow would've probably been safely tucked away in Harvard or Yale or some other smart people school I don't know the name of. Instead she was prancing around the halls of UC Sunnydale. The school whose new slogan was 'Enroll Today, Campus Deaths Down 25%.' My mere presence in Sunnydale had hurdled her life into another world. Into a world full of pain she didn't deserve.

"I thought you were going to show me what a Slayer was?" She had asked sarcastically after beating me near senseless that night in the Magic Box. I stared in disbelief at the woman standing before me spewing snarky remarks. Her eyes and hair were consumed in black magic. Spider web veins pumping with fury covered her once fair porcelain face. Her features distorted and her action's unrecognizable. There was so much hate and anger in her and she was taking it out on me. I looked at her hard and steady, but saw only images of the Willow I once knew flashing in my mind's eye.

One particular image outshone the rest. It was the memory of Willow dressed in a bright red overall sitting with me on the grassy clearing outside Sunnydale High. "And I just realized that's what I want to do. Fight evil, help people." She had said that day as we sat on the grass. Those were words that resonated in my ears when we fought in the Magic Box. My heart ached at the knowledge that the Willow that had spoken those words was long lost. Her kind comments were exchanged for venomous remarks. Her sweet face was replaced with a look of hatred and evil. It was obvious she wanted me dead, yet all I could think about was the day she promised to fight by my side.

I punched and kicked her, but only because I was hoping to snap her out of her evil trance. I was holding back. I mean, come on, I'm the Slayer! I could have killed her at any moment. One good swing and I could've decapitated her. One good kick and I could've broken her arms and legs like twigs. I could've punched through her chest and ripped out her heart like I did Adam. But I didn't. I let her hit me. I let her hit me because I deserved it. I let her hit me because a piece of me wanted to die too. The piece of me that was tired of the constant struggle. The piece of me that saw how worthless my life had become. The piece of me that realized even my best friend hated me.

That night in the Magic Box as I fought Willow, my best friend in the whole world, it was the memory of her sweet face as the sun shined through her crimson hair that danced in my head. It was the memory of that day that gave me the strength to not give up on her...to not give up on myself.

When it was all over and in the evil in Willow had been defeated, it was Xander who had saved the day. He used his love to bring her back. I used my fists and failed, but Xander used love and succeeded. Don't get me wrong. I was glad he succeeded but it stung, like lemon brushed over an open wound. I wondered if I failed because there was no love left for me to give. My heart had been tapped dry from years of pain. There was only bitterness, resentment and regret left in me. Perhaps had it been me standing on that hill instead of Xander the world would have ended on that very day.

I didn't talk to her after that. I didn't know what to talk to her about. I didn't know what to say to bring our friendship back. Actually, there was nothing I could say. Our friendship, as we once knew it, was officially gone. I had stood idly by as she slipped through my fingers. I stood helpless as I lost my best friend.

Not a day had passed after her evil magic fest when I watched from the shadows as Giles hustled her into a cab, in the middle of the night, while I was on patrol. Covertly. In secret. I watched her from afar in the pale moonlight. There were lines etched on her forehead and around the edges of her mouth. She had aged, she was tired, and I felt silent hot tears scorch down my face. Giles had said he was taking her to England to recover with the Coven, but I knew the truth. He was taking her away from me and this place, because it was the only way she would recover. I was the cause of it all and my heart was empty.

From the moment she left time seemed to stretch out endlessly. Long days turned into long weeks, long weeks turned into long months, and long months into long years. Well, actually, it had only been a little over four months, one hundred and thirty-eight days to be precise, but it seemed like forever to me. When Giles called to say he was sending her home, the first thing I did was switch rooms with her. It wasn't for me. It was for her. I didn't think sleeping in the room that Tara died in was going to help her. In fact, I was afraid it would destroy her and watching my best friend fall apart once had caused more than enough heartache to last me a lifetime.

So I stood quietly at the door of my old room and her new room. It was full of boxes and there were shadows of frames on the walls where happy pictures of us all once hung. She sat motionlessly on the bed with her legs crossed. The same lines I saw the night she left were etched around her mouth. They were very light but I could still see them. She was wearing a pair of my pajamas because she couldn't find hers in the mess I had made moving rooms. Her stomach was bandaged and you could see the faint stains of blood through the gauze. Her eyes were sealed tightly and her forehead was frowning in concentration. It was her first day back and she had already been wrongly accused, locked alone in a cave with a demon, and nearly skinned alive. Why would she ever come back here?

"Buffy..." I heard her soft voice call right when I had turned around to walk away. I didn't think she knew I was there and it pained me to look at her any longer.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt." I responded apologetically. She shrugged and let out a deep sigh.

"That's all I had left in me anyway." Willow said trying to make me feel better about interrupting her.

"Healing myself," she said and my eyes shot open. "It's a thing." She assured, seemingly reacting at my astonished look. "Is everything okay?" She asked softly at the end. Her eyes seemed tired and her shoulders were slumping forward in defeat.

"I'm sorry." Was the only thing I could think of saying as I stared into her emerald green eyes from the doorway, those eyes that I had missed so much when they were consumed in darkness. Her eyebrows joined in a questioning look at my statement.

"For Tara." I said plainly and her expression widened in shock. "I never got to tell you I was sorry before you went all veiny." I said and mentally slapped my head the moment the words seeped out. She looked hurt and uncomfortable. What was I thinking? "Then you left without even saying goodbye and we didn't talk the whole time you were in England and..." I continued explaining ruthlessly doing my best Anya impression. It was like my mouth had grown tiny little feet with tiny little sneakers and decided to run away from me. I looked at her mid-rant and noticed tears glistening in her eyes.

"It's okay Buffy. I know." She said grimly interrupting my rant and looked down at the bed breaking my gaze. A single tear fell from her lowered face and hit the sheets. I walked toward her slowly and took a seat across from her at the foot of the bed.

"Did I stick my foot in my mouth again?" I asked while reaching for her hand on the bed. I grabbed her hand but it was it cold and clammy, and it was then that I realized how nervous she was to be back.

"No." She said softly and wiped away yet another tear with her free hand. "It's best that we talk about it. I don't want it hanging between us and I don't want you to feel like you can't mention Tara. It would be wrong of us to forget her." She finished and looked at me bravely. She was trying so hard to be strong.

"I agree." I responded and stared at her for a few seconds. There were so many things I wanted to tell her but there was only one thing that came to mind at that moment.

"I missed you." I said and felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders the moment the words exited my lips. Willow breathed a sigh of relief at my confession and smiled softly.

"Yep!" I assured her with a grin, attempting to shift the conversation to happier subjects. "A bunch of things happened while you were gone." I said and Willow smiled yet again. She let go of my hand and leaned back resting against the head of the bed as she made herself comfortable for my impending review of the summer.

"They finally finished rebuilding Hellmouth High." I announced as the first important occurrence of the summer and she responded with an appropriate eye roll and giggle at the new nickname I had afforded our old Alma Mater.

"Let me guess. You're working there?" She asked sarcastically and I felt a huge foot stomp on the good part of my story.

"Uh huh!" I assured her with an exaggerated nod. "You're talking to Buffy Anne Summers, School Counselor." Willow nearly fell of the bed when I said that! She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. The last time I saw that face was our first year in College when I gave her a fist full of Kathy's toe nails and told her she was a demon and I was going to kill her. I couldn't tell if she had to go to the bathroom or if she was debating in her head whether or not I was telling the truth. Either way her extra special surprise look was a little disheartening.

"Hey!" I scolded and then pouted at her reaction. She burst into giggles but immediately regretted it when she gripped her stomach in pain.

"Mmm Hmmm." She grunted affirmatively and returned to the original meditation position she had been in when I found her.

"I thought you were too tired." I said softly as the muscles in her face went through a myriad of discomfort expressions.

"It hurts too much not to try. It just takes so much strength." She conceded taking a deep breath. "I don't have that much." She finished in a defeated voice. I lifted both my legs onto the bed and crossed them, mimicking Willow's position. I looked into her eyes and extended both my arms out to her.

"I got so much strength, I'm giving it away." I announced and searched for her hands.

"Will it help?" I asked. I wanted to make sure she knew my priority was to help her.

"Much...but it might give you a hell of a headache." She warned with a half smile.

"Good. I haven't felt hung over in a while." I said trying to make her giggle again. I hadn't noticed how much I missed the sound of her giggles.

"Yes, and remember how much fun that was?" She asked with her goofy 'I told you so' voice.

"Willow, I want to do this." I assured her seriously. It wasn't a joke this time. I wanted to help her.

She took my hands and I closed my eyes. My body instantly surged with an electric current. My skin grew hot and I felt as every part of me hummed with strength. It was kind of cool.

"You're welcome." I said out loud and instantly the current was lost. I opened my eyes and Willow was looking at me through her left eye.

"Try not to speak out loud when we're meditating, it kind of makes it harder. Just think whatever you want to say and I'll pick it up," she instructed me patiently.

'Yes Buffy. Like that.' She responded stretching out the syllables in each word. I smiled internally at Willow's Yoda-like attitude.

'I can still hear your Buffy.' Her voice echoed through my head sounding amused at my thought.

'Sorry Master Willow, the Slayer stupid is.' I joked and felt as a warm happy feeling flooded over me. I think she was smiling too.

She held my hands tightly as her body continued to heal itself with my strength. It was a strange feeling. My soul was like an opened channel. Emotions and thoughts were flowing freely back and forth. The longer I held her hands the closer to her I felt. Suddenly darkness overshadowed my mind's eye. I couldn't feel anything but pain, hurt, and anguish. It was absolutely unbearable. My heart was tearing in two as I got a glimpse of the feelings Willow had been carrying around with her for so many years. The feelings she let fester. These feelings weren't even only about Tara. They went much deeper than that, much more profound.

My breathing had begun to labor as I felt a thin coat of hot sweat drip over my skin. My body was growing weak and it felt as if all my energy was being funneled through a straw. My essence was being squished and compressed and forced through a tiny straw. It was getting harder and harder to hold her hands but I tightened my grip, I was not going to let her down. I was not going to fail her again.

Visions of people in Willow's life flashed in my head. All the visions were accompanied by extreme emotions. I was feeling what she felt. An image of Mr. and Mrs. Rosenberg appeared followed by a pang of intense loneliness and unrequited love. Years' worth of solitude rammed through my head like a runaway train.

A succession of faces appeared one after the other, some I did not recognize and some I did. The ones I recognized were all people we went to high school with, people who spent their lives making Willow's life impossible. My body was bombarded with feelings of inadequacy and self doubt and I reacted to these feelings physically. I felt as my shoulders slumped and my head lowered as if trying to hide my face from the world. Like a turtle hides it's head in its shell. Like what Willow did the first day I met her when Cordelia pounced all over her.

An image of Oz appeared and my heart burned. It literally ached. Alternating pictures of Veruca and Oz flashed back and forth as the sea of resentment in Willow bubbled to a near boil. So many years she carried this around with her. The pain of finding Oz with Veruca...it never went away. I was beginning to whimper in pain but I continued to hold her hands tightly. I was not going to let go.

An image of Tara appeared and my breathing stopped. I always thought Tara was beautiful but she was even more beautiful through Willow's eyes. In my head I saw a picture of Tara smiling shyly. I could hear her giggles encasing me, surrounding me the way a tight glove fits over your hand. Her blue eyes twinkled as they sexily shifted and hid from Willow's.

The storm of emotions flowing through Willow was exhausting. My body was in agony and my heart was beating like wild drums. My hands had slowly lost their grip but I clung to her weakly with my fingers hooked in her own, intertwined as one. We were in the middle of an emotional hurricane. I felt as if winds were blowing all around me attempting to pull our clutched hands apart. But I refused to let go of her. I threw my head back squinting my eyes shut with all my might. I could hardly hold on any longer and then...

All the hurt and anger disappeared and only love remained in her heart. So pure, so intense, so overwhelming. I had no idea it was possible to feel such love. It was genuine and unadulterated. It was complete and unwavering. I saw her soul and it was amazing. Then, almost as if I had been sucked out of my body by a vacuum cleaner, my entire essence poured into her. I was inside of her looking out through her eyes. I was confused and disoriented at first but the overwhelming feeling of love helped calm me. A bright light shone all around, it was blinding bright, so bright that after a few seconds my vision was overcast by what looked like a dark cloud of smoke. Like what happens when you stare directly at the sun for too long. I mentally strained to see past the darkness. There was someone there. I could hear muffled voices. There was a conversation. Perhaps this person was the source of the love in Willow's heart.

I strained harder but my vision was clouded. I tried. I really did. And that's when it happened. The smoke dissipated slowly and the outline of a girl appeared. There was something behind her. A tree I thought. It was outside. Definitely outside. I could feel the sun warming my skin and the cool breeze air tossing strands of my hair back and forth. I couldn't see her face yet but was beginning to hear something. Tid bits. Words.

"I kind of love you." The girl said and all of a sudden the smoky cloud that covered my eyes disappeared. It was me! I was the girl! It was a memory of the same day that I treasured. I saw myself through her eyes and suddenly realized the truth. Everything became clear. The world came into focus all at once and I finally saw what had been staring me in the face all along.

Then, without warning, the image spun out of control and I found myself standing at the bottom of a tower. It was clearly night time but the sky was exploding with lights and electric charges, like a fireworks show, like the fourth of July except that these fireworks were equipped with jumbo sized demons. The sky was breaking and hell was spilling out. I looked up and saw a body plummeting through the sky. I followed it with my eyes. It looked familiar. I followed it until I heard the crashing sounds of bones colliding with rocks. I strained to see past the cloud of dust that had formed around it. I concentrated. I tried so hard my eyes hurt. I needed to see. Something inside of me was screaming to find out. I needed to know who it was and then I saw it...it was me, laying lifeless on a bed of rocks. I felt like someone took a sharp knife and stabbed me in the heart with it, twisting and turning it slowly. The pain was intolerable. My body was being torn to pieces from the inside out. I moaned in anguish and that's when I realized that pain was not mine, it was hers. It was her heart that hurt so much. It was her heart that was breaking in two.

"Oh God!" I gasped out loud and let go of her hands covering my mouth. Her eyes shot open in fear and her eyebrows arched in regret.

"Oh God Willow!" I repeated while shaking my head in disbelief. I had seen it. I had seen everything and it burned.

"Why didn't you...how come...when did..." I murmured the beginning of a bunch of questions as I stumbled out of bed but none of them came out clearly. My arms and legs were weak from healing her but it was my heart that made everything so hard. I turned to look at her and her eyes were screaming my name. She was begging me to talk to her.

"Buffy. Wait. I can explain." She pleaded nervously reaching out to me, only to jerk back holding her stomach in pain. I didn't turn to look at her as I staggered out of the room. It was too much. There was too much stuff floating around in my head. I couldn't talk to her.

The world was a horribly confusing place. Nothing ever made sense and very few people acted the way they were supposed to. Good deeds were reciprocated with bad ones. Smiles were responded to with angry growls. Everything and everyone seemed unconnected yet related at the same time and I spent the majority of my life questioning my existence.

Over and over and over again I asked myself these questions. There were people who had written books about it. Entire faiths were created to explain our existence, to give our lives meaning, to answer the questions that haunted the darkest part of our hearts. There were so many explanations but none seemed to satisfy me, and then, just when I had given up, just when I had finally decided that everything was chance, that there was no purpose, that there was no meaning...I died...and everything made sense.

I didn't even know I was dying as it happened. It just seemed like a dream or a vision or a hallucination. I'm not even sure if what I recall is what really happened or just random thoughts and memories that shot back and forth through my mind. It's really hard to describe.

One minute Willow was standing before me. She was so happy and her smile was so beautiful. Her lips were stretched out broadly across her face and small little lines hugged the edges of her mouth. I had seen those lines the night before as we laid together in peaceful silence. I had lazily traced my finger over them caressing her softly. They were the beginning of happy wrinkles, the kinds that form after long days spent laughing and smiling, and the thought of that had made me smile. I thought perhaps I had put some of those happy wrinkles on her face.

We had spent hours making love that day. I could still smell her scent on my hands, in my hair, on my skin. That sweet mixture of raspberry cream and apple scented shampoo had besieged me but I had surrendered to it willingly. I could still feel her breath blow over my neck. My skin had felt so hot at first, as her breath scorched a path from my ear lobe to the base of my neck, but then became icy cold when her lips left their task and proceeded to meet mine. I could still taste her kisses as the sweet flavor of her strawberry lip gloss lingered on my lips. I could still hear her soft pleasure filled moans echo through my ears. It was the memory of her moans that made my body tingle in anticipation from head to toe as I watched her standing there.

I didn't even feel the bullet as it passed through me. I was too focused on Willow. I was focused on her eyes and the way they raked over my skin. I could feel them. My blood splattered all over her white blouse leaving a hundred tiny red stains. The impact of the bullet was such that tiny blood drops sprayed all over her arms, face and neck, yet I still I hadn't felt a single thing.

Willow's sea-green eyes squinted momentarily and then immediately shot open with fear. I saw something in her eyes that I hadn't seen in a long time. It was horror and it covered her eyes like a dark blanket. They were immersed with it. She was in agonizing fear. I thought to myself, 'It's just a shirt' and that's when I felt it. Like a hard blow. I felt the impact of the bullet as it pierced my skin and burrowed through flesh and bone. Funny how it took a few seconds for my body to notice what had happened. I was too distracted.

I fell forward in slow motion as the world around me began spinning. I still didn't even know exactly what had happened. I thought I was dreaming. I thought I was still asleep snuggled safely in Willow's arms. In fact, I could feel them. I could feel her arms wrapped around me and they were gripping me tight. Squeezing me. I could hear the muffled sounds of her voice. She was pleading for me to wake up from my dream.

My vision grew dark and a tingly feeling formed in the pit of my stomach, like the way it feels when you fall unexpectedly, but I wasn't falling. Suddenly I began to move. I didn't know whether I was going up or down, I just knew I was moving fast. I had become increasingly disoriented. It was apparent that I was alone and my heart ached at the loss of Willow's touch. Cold sharp winds blew across my face. I couldn't hear anything but the roaring sound of air coursing all around me. I was in a tunnel of air, a tornado sort of speak, at least that's what it felt like because I could only see darkness. I hung there idly in the dark as my mind raced. Visions of Willow flashed back and forth in my thoughts, like a slide show running at enormous speeds. Then just as quickly as it all started...it all stopped, and I was left wandering alone in a garden.

There were luscious green trees as far as the eye could see. The scent of fresh roses and jasmines floated in through my nose and calmed my spirits. Invisible droplets of water hung in the air as I felt the moister caress my skin while I walked. The ground beneath me was cool and wet as long blades of soft grass tickled my feet and brushed between my toes. It was then that I realized I was barefoot. I looked down and noticed I was wearing a long sleeveless baby blue dress. The dress was my favorite tone of blue, the one that accentuated my eyes and brought out the pinkish hue of my skin. It was my favorite blue. I ran my hands over the fabric and it was soft and slippery like silk, except not like any silk I'd ever felt. It was smooth and cool, and it hugged my body like second skin. In the distance I could hear the soft rushing sound of a waterfall and birds chirping up above.

'It is a dream,' I thought and wondered what it was I had eaten that had given me such wacky hallucinations.

I shrugged the confusion away and continued walking through the garden. I could hear the sweet sound of soft humming coming from up ahead. I thought surely it was Willow. Who else would sing to me in my dreams? I pushed past bushes and tree branches effortlessly. I was trekking through a huge garden and hadn't even broken a sweat. The cool breeze was blowing across my face as the sound of Willow humming was getting louder and louder.

I reached a clearing in the garden and there was a large pond of crystal clear water. So clear you could see straight down to the bottom, the smooth rounded rocks and colorful fishes that were beneath. A cascading waterfall poured into the pond but the water remained calm. I thought about how odd that was and walked toward the edge to further investigate. I dipped my toe into the pond slowly and it seemed to disappear under the surface, but yet there were no ripples. I had pulled my toe out of the pond and was shaking the excess water off, when I heard it.

"There you are!" The voice called from behind me. I froze. That voice had sounded strangely familiar but it couldn't be who I thought it was. It just couldn't. I turned slowly searching for the source of that voice. The moment my eyes graced her presence I felt my heart skip a beat. I couldn't believe it.

"Oh Goddess!" I gasped as I brought my hands up to cover my mouth. I couldn't believe my own eyes. Her slender figure stood tall before me as long golden blonde hair ran down her shoulders and hung mid torso. Her eyes were as blue as the sky on a clear sunny day and her lips were the color of pink roses.

"M-mommy?" I asked confused through my fingers. It was almost like looking in a mirror. I had forgotten how much I looked like her. My heart beat raced, how I had dreamed of seeing her again.

"Come here darling," she said with a soft smile, extending her arms out to me. I ran toward her as fast as I could. As fast as I'd ever run before in my life. She was only a few feet away but it felt like miles.

When I reached her, I stopped a moment to really look at her. I needed to see her. I needed to really see her. Her eyes were filled with happy tears and I felt my own eyes well up too. My senses were overwhelmed by the smell of her hair. It wasn't perfume or shampoo I smelled; it was just her. It was the way my bed smelled when I was little after she had read to me and tucked me in. It was mom smell. The kind that makes you feel loved and safe.

"I missed you," she whispered and I wrapped my arms around her tightly. She was real! I could feel her. I could feel her heart beating against mine. I could hear her breathing into my hair. She was real. Oh Goddess, she was real.

'Thank you!' I screamed in my mind to whatever deity was listening. She was real and she was alive and she was beautiful and I was holding her again. My mother! Oh Goddess, I was holding my mother!

I froze in her arms. My entire body froze as silent tears ran down my face. She squeezed me softly and it only made it hurt more. To have her and then lose all over again was tearing my heart apart. The dream had quickly turned into my worst nightmare.

"It's not a dream, Sunshine," she whispered into my hair. I let out a small sad whimper when she said my nickname. She always used to call me that because my hair reminded her of the sun. She used to say I was her Sunshine. She used to say I brightened every day for her.

"It's not a dream. I was sent here to explain to you what happened," she said. My thoughts got increasingly confusing. I couldn't understand what she was trying to say.

"This is one of countless sub-heavenly dimensions. It's actually catered to what your idea of a safe and happy place would be," she said looking all around at the scenery. "It really is quite beautiful, Sunshine."

"You died, Tara," she stated plainly. Her eyes were squinted with a hint of disbelief; as if she couldn't understand why I was so confused. "Don't you remember?" She asked tracing her finger over my forehead removing wayward strands of hair from my eyes.

"No. I don't," I replied with my voice barely above a whisper. I couldn't understand what she was saying. I couldn't understand what was happening. It was all so confusing. I was so sure it was a dream. I knew it was. I couldn't have died. I couldn't have.

"You were shot, Tara," she said with a grimace, as if the thought of that alone hurt her too.

"No," I said softly at first. "No. No," my voice escalated as I shook my head in disbelief. I was trying to convince myself of it. There was no way I had died. There was no way.

"This is a dream. A wacky, crazy dream brought on by a four o'clock in the morning cheese puff binge. I'm alive. I know I am. I can feel my heart beating," I said firmly.

I was alive! I knew I was. It was all a dream. No. No. It was all a nightmare. A nightmare. A horrible disgusting nightmare and when I woke up from it I was going to rid the world of cheese puffs. Willow would do it for me. She would make it all go away. I would never have a nightmare like that again.

The palm of my mother's hand was still tightly pressed over my chest. I was gripping her wrist with both of my hands, holding it in place. She looked at me and her eyes drooped in sadness. Her forehead was frowning and her lips trembled as if pulled on by the weight of her words. With her free hand she gripped one of mine, pulling on it gently, releasing the grip I held on hers. She took my hand and placed it over her own heart. I felt the thump of her heart beat against the palm of my hand, like the ticking of a clock, one thump after the other.

"My heart beats because you want it to...not because I'm alive," she finished. The words seeped in through my ears filling all the little open spaces I had left in my brain. It was like a veil that had been covering my eyes was lifted and suddenly everything stopped.

The noise of the waterfall behind me ceased, the happy chirping birds were silenced, the sound of wind rustling through trees ended, and the only thing I could hear was my own breathing. Labored and hard. The air was thick and heavy like syrup and I had lost the strength to inhale. I had lost the strength to live.

I stopped. I stopped breathing and my heart stopped beating as well. I dropped my arms to my sides and took a step backward away from my mother. I turned slowly, very slowly, observing my surroundings. The trees still swayed but there was no sound. The waterfall poured into the pond but I couldn't hear it. The birds flew over head but they went audibly unnoticed. Everything was quiet. The world was silent. It was like someone had hit the mute button on the remote control.

"You control it. This is your reality and you don't have to stutter any more. I'm here with you," she said. How had she known? How had she know I had started stuttering after she died? I spun around to look at her. The moment my eyes met hers the noises resumed again all at once.

"I died?" I asked hoarsely. She walked toward me slowly. Her long dress rippled in the wind and her blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight. Her eyes sparkled with glistening tears and my heart grew heavy with fear.

When she reached me, she took my hand into hers and we walked together toward the pond. The flat motionless surface of the pond sparkled. She looked at its surface steadily and I looked where she was looking, wondering what she was trying to see.

"This is what happened," she said. An image appeared on the surface and it was so clear and full of color it seemed as if we were watching a movie screen. It was an image of Willow. Her eyes were the color of blood and fire; anger was flowing through them. She was sitting on the floor of our room holding my limp body in her arms and my blood was splattered all over her crisp white blouse. It was then I remembered. I remembered what had happened. I remembered when the tiny droplets sprayed all over her and I remembered when her eyes grew dark with fear.

I stood by the pond holding my mother's hand as images of the events that took place after my death played out before me. I saw as black magic took possession of Willow's body. I saw her face turn pale and the blood in her veins run jet black. I saw her beautiful red hair turn dark with death and evil.

"But why? Why would this happen?" I asked near tears and she turned to look at me.

"Everything is connected, Tara. No one enters your life without a purpose. Nothing happens out of pure coincidence," she turned to look back at the reflection on the pond. "No one dies in vain," she finished pointedly and I looked at her profile confused.

"Do you remember the photo albums I had at home?" She asked softly, turning to look at me again. A sweet smile sneaked over her lips.

"The albums of your travels around the world with Uncle Mark?" I asked. My mother had spent her youthful years traveling with her brother. It always made her smile broadly to look at the many photo albums she had accumulated, at the memories she had captured in a still photo. There were pictures of her at the top of the Empire State Building in New York City, photos of my uncle standing in front of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and countless snapshots of their adventures around the world. Those photo albums were her legacies and they represented to her the happiest moments of her life.

"Yes, those," she smiled. "Each individual photo in those albums represented an important day in my life, highest moments, days of accomplishments or fulfillment of dreams, if you will. But notice I never had pictures of the many days we spent planning our trips or the many days we worked double shifts at the local diner to pay for them, right?" She asked.

"Yet those days were just as important because without those days the pictures I had in the albums would have never existed," she explained. She looked at me steadily. Her gaze was piercing and intense. She was searching for understanding in my eyes. It seemed crucial to her. She squeezed my hand softly and proceeded to speak.

"There are people the Powers That Be use to fight their battles on the mortal realm. These people are called Champions. They dedicate their lives to fight and struggle for the rest of humanity. They are like those important days. The ones we take snapshots of and treasure in our albums. They are our heroes," she continued. The tone of her voice was getting stronger with every word. She was speaking with conviction of heart.

"And everyone else in the world, all the people these Champions fight for, are just as important," she said stressing the last words. "Because without them the Champions would have never existed."

Her explanation was so clear I understood it completely. It was as if a door had suddenly been unlocked. I looked into my past and saw everything. All the people I had touched in my lifetime, all the things I had accomplished and all the things I had failed to do. I saw my past and everything was so clear. Every event so meaningful. If I took a pencil, I could literally trace a line through each and every moment. My whole life was connected. My existence made sense. I saw my purpose.

"Yes. You were valuable," she began to explain but paused for a moment to clarify. "No. You were instrumental in the development of one of the most powerful Champions of your time," she said with a distinct gleam of pride in her eyes.

"You helped shape the life of the person who will have a primary role in the final battle of the Apocalypse. Your existence left an imprint on hers. Your birth, your life, and even your death were of immeasurable value to the fight against evil," she finished. Tears of pride glistened in her eyes.

I stood before her speechless. There was so much information for me to comprehend. I had taken an active part in shaping Willow's life. Willow was a Champion. I had heard of these Champions before. I knew that Buffy, as the Slayer, was a Champion but I didn't know Willow was one too. I felt pride, overwhelming pride, my Willow was a Champion. The woman I loved more than life itself was a chosen hero. My heart warmed at the knowledge. I looked at my mother and smiled. The world finally made sense and I could hardly contain my happiness.

The smile still lingered on my face as I turned slowly to look at the pond once more. Images of Willow still flashed on the pond's surface. This time she was fighting Giles. The Magic Box was in ruins. Part of its ceiling was caved in and fire was consuming the walls, destroying its foundations. Electric charges crackled all around Willow as she stood proudly, wide eyed, and with an evil grin on her face. She lifted her arms and electric currents shot out in the direction of Giles. Giles double over in pain as blood dripped from his forehead. Suddenly I felt as if I'd been popped like a balloon as all the pride seeped out of me like hot air. I saw the imprint I had left on her life and it burned.

"But this," I cried, gesturing toward the pond. "This can't be the imprint I was to leave in her life. This can't be it," I shrieked in disbelief.

"Part of Willow's journey was to learn what she was capable of," she explained as her eyes lingered over the images of Willow.

"Willow needed to see it with her own eyes. She needed to feel the evil coursing through her veins to understand it," she said and looked up to gaze at me again. There was something different in her eyes this time. She was holding something back. There was something she hadn't said. I shook my head from side to side urging her to keep speaking but she just stared at me.

"Willow needed to stand on the brink of destruction in order for her true love to save her," she revealed slowly as if the speed in which her words came out would make it hurt less. I looked back at the pond and there was an image of Xander holding Willow. The sun had finally come out and it was shining bright above them. He was holding her tightly and they were both crying. Wind was blowing all around them and strands of Willow's black hair slowly turned red again.

"No," she responded plainly. "That's why you are here. Events did not go as foreseen and Willow missed the opportunity to join with her true love. Their union was supposed to create a binding alliance between two Champions-"

"Yes. The end result of your death was to join the Slayer with her Sorceress," she finished.

As hard as it was for me to hear, the information didn't surprise me at all. It was if I'd always know it, somewhere in the back of my mind, but refused to acknowledge it. From the moment I met Buffy I knew, I had seen it in the way Willow's eyes seemed to gleam in her presence. The way Willow followed her faithfully into the darkest of places, to fight battles that were not her own. The way she searched high and low for a way to bring Buffy back, refusing to ever give up, refusing to ever let her go. I knew it.

"I remember. I mean, not remember but it's like, I don't know, it's like I've always known that. It's like I'd always seen it in Willow's heart...just beneath the surface," I sniffled. My mother took me into her arms once again and hugged me dearly. It was a soft reassuring hug. I closed my eyes and allowed the feeling of comfort to flow through me.

"It doesn't lessen the love you two shared," she whispered into my hair and I closed my eyes tighter. I clung to her thinking of all the things she had said. I let my mind wander to the sound of the waterfall behind her. It was a hard rushing sound. If I concentrated on it, I could lull myself to sleep. I thought of all the things that had lead me there. I could go crazy rethinking the circumstances. There were so many 'what if's' floating around in my head, but something inside of me assured me this was the way things were meant to be.

"What do I do now?" I asked over her shoulder. She released me from her embrace slowly and took my face into her hands.

"Now you must help us fix what went wrong. Events are aligning themselves. The Sorceress' heart shall be vulnerable once again. We have but one opportunity left to join her to the Slayer. If you succeed in doing so, you will leave this sub-heavenly dimension and join me in your rightful place as a spiritual guide," she stared at me.

"This is not the end Tara. This is only the beginning. You have fulfilled your duty on Earth. Complete this last task and you shall receive your compensation," she finished.

I removed her hands from my face and turned to look at the pond once again. I had no words to describe the feelings that were running through my body. My hands were shaking and I was overwrought with emotion. I felt grief at the knowledge of my own death. I had died and Willow watched me slip away. My blood had splattered all over her, staining her skin for hours afterward. She watched as I took my last breath in her arms, as my eyes grew dark with death, as my soul seeped away from her. She felt as my heart stopped beating against her body and my veins stopped pumping life.

I felt sorrow at the suffering it had caused her. She snapped and forsook the good in her. She let anger and remorse take over. She destroyed what she had spent years building. I looked at the image of Willow flashing on the pond. It was of her sitting alone under a tree. Her forehead was frowning, her eyes were drooping around the edges in sadness, and her mouth was curved downward in an unhappy grin. All her features hung on her face in anguish. She was in pain.

I looked at her image closely and it was as if her thoughts were revealed to me. She was questioning her existence as I had done so many times. She wondered why she was allowed to walk upon the Earth when I was dead. She wondered at the injustice. She thought it unfair and hated herself for having lived. She hated herself. She hated herself for having survived her own attempt at an apocalypse. I looked at her and her heart was empty. I couldn't bear to see it any longer. She deserved so much more. She deserved a life full of love and promise. She deserved happiness.

"Okay," I conceded through tears. "What do I have to do?" I turned to look at my mother. She looked at me and let out a sigh of relief. I hadn't noticed she had been holding her breath or maybe she wasn't and it was all just in my head. She waved her hand over the pond and the image changed.

"This is what is happening right now, as we speak. It's your chance, Tara, the Powers that Be will answer your pleas," she said. I looked at the image and saw Willow hurt. She was sitting on the bed in Buffy's room. She was meditating, using the Earth to heal herself. I could feel Willow drawing power from the Earth. She was so strong, and it was amazing. Buffy was standing at the door of the room watching her. Her eyes were fixed on Willow as she examined her from afar. There was a myriad of emotions running through Buffy. I could see her heart and mind, and it was full of conflicted thoughts of Willow.

'Look up, Willow, she's waiting for you,' I pleaded with my mind and Willow's eyes fluttered open.

"Buffy..." Willow's voice echoed through the room and it seemed to resonate through the garden I was standing in.

I watched as Buffy and Willow exchanged kind words with one another. It was awkward at first, yet comforting in a strange way. I hadn't seen them speak so freely since before Buffy died. Willow's heart warmed in Buffy's presence and it pleased me. I wanted her to be happy. I needed for her to be happy.

I watched as Buffy extended her arms out to Willow, offering her strength to heal her, but Willow hesitated. She was afraid. She was so afraid of taking Buffy's hands. She was afraid of being vulnerable again. She was afraid of the way holding Buffy's hands would make her feel. She thought she didn't deserve it and it pained me that she gave herself such little worth.

'Take her hands,' I pleaded in my mind. Willow looked at Buffy steadily. Her eyes searched for Buffy's. She was searching for permission. She was searching for acceptance. She was searching for her friend. A shy smile crept over her face as it seemed she had found what she was looking for and finally took Buffy's hands.

"It's time," my mother said from behind me. I turned to look at her one last time for reassurance. She smiled broadly and nodded as a sign to continue.

My entire body was tense from the decision that stood before me. Every single muscle ached, even the ones on my face. The level of pressure was such that I could feel the frown on my face. I could feel the muscles on my forehead locked in tension. I closed my eyes to relax and breathed deeply. The air was sweet and it smelled like raspberry cream and apple scented shampoo. The smell reminded me of the last time I saw Willow standing before me. She was so happy and her smile was so beautiful. Her lips were stretched out broadly across her face and small little happy lines hugged the edges of her mouth. It had made smile thinking that perhaps I had put those there.

I stood there with my eyes closed remembering Willow and heard the sound of happy birds chirping all around me. My heart was beating loudly and I placed my hands over my chest. I needed to feel my heart beat one last time. I needed to remember the way it felt. The way Willow made it beat. It was like music. Willow made my heart beat like music. She made my heart sing. She was my always...

"Reveal your heart to her!" I pleaded out loud this time, with the last ounce of strength I had left in me. I opened my eyes and watched through tears as all the feelings Willow had been hiding in her heart poured into Buffy. I saw as Buffy's body jerked from the sudden impact. It pained her, the feelings inside Willow were tearing her apart, but it only made her strive harder to hold on.

Willow's entire essence poured into her. Everything, every secret she held dear, every thought that made her happy, everyone that made her weep in pain, all of it...Buffy saw it all! She saw her heart as no one else had. She saw her heart as I had never seen it.

Suddenly, Willow's essence returned to her in a terribly strong sucking motion taking Buffy's essence with it. For a moment, for a brief bright moment, Buffy was inside of Willow looking out. She was allowed to see herself through Willow's eyes and everything was revealed to her.

"It is done," my mother said. "That should be enough, Sunshine. The wheels have been set in motion and now it's only a matter of time," she finished. I turned from the pond to face my mother as my body tremble. It was done. I had completed my duty. It had hurt, but I let her go.

I stumbled toward the door of Willow's room; my feet were as heavy as lead and my head threatened to split in two from the pain. Missing a step, I tripped and fell forward, banging my shoulder against the door. I clung in desperation to the sleek wood of the doorway for a moment, to regain my strength, but my aching shoulder and pounding head made it impossible to concentrate.

"Buffy, please, I can explain," Willow pleaded, her voice low and weak, but I refused to look at her. I was afraid of what I'd see. I had already seen enough.

I reached behind me, feeling the surface of the door with my hand and fingers, until I finally found the knob. With the last ounce of strength left in me, I slammed the door shut, but the sound only intensified my headache. Reaching for my head in agony, I lost balance once again.

My vision was invaded by a thousand tiny black polka-dots. They started at the center of my vision and worked their way out, until everything I saw was black. I blinked and swooned. I felt as if I was falling through air in slow motion, but it only took a second to feel the hard wood floor beneath me. My knees and hands scraped along the floor, but the surface wasn't rough enough to break the skin. I felt them burn from the friction. Regardless of how hard I tried, I couldn't stop from falling.

The next thing I felt was my stomach as it flopped against the floor. I felt the sharp sting of countless pin pricks across my belly. Finally, my face collided with the floor and I heard my jaw crack. I recognized the sound; I'd hear it whenever a vamp had gotten the best of me in a fight. Hearing that sound was never a good thing.

I laid face down on the floor in the hallway between my room and Willow's room. My body was covered in sweat and my lungs screamed for air. I struggled hard too see, but there was only darkness around me. My heart was pounding a mile a minute, my hands and legs were throbbing and my mouth tasted like blood; my blood. I hadn't felt that way since the last time I had gone a few rounds with Glory and, even then, I'd been fighting a Hell God, not tripping over my own feet. I closed my eyes and slowly rolled onto my back. The taste of my own blood was strong on my lips and it made me sick. I held back the urge to throw up as my heart threatened to break open my chest.

Taking a deep breath through my nose, I marveled at how acute my Slayer senses still were. I could smell everything, the pizza we had for dinner, the fresh roses Xander had bought for Willow's return, and even the scent of the shampoo I used that morning lingered in the air, yet I hadn't the strength to get up from the floor. I took another deep breath; the air was thick and refreshing. The leaves on the trees outside rustled, banging against the many windows. In the distance I could hear the faint sounds of thunder.

After a while, the scent of the storm approaching became oddly soothing. I found comfort in its familiarity and the memories it awoke in me, memories that had been buried deep down inside me.

One particular memory brought a small smile to my face, even as I laid on the floor in anguish. I was actually smiling. It was a memory of a particular night early in my junior year of high school. Before my mother died, before Dawn appeared, before Angel became evil and tried to kill us all. In a life full of death and destruction, the memory I relished took place during the year of my innocence. I'd only known Willow and Xander for less than a year by then, but I remember feeling as if I'd known them forever.

I had gotten ready for patrol in a hurry that night. Mom had been roaming around downstairs, unpacking boxes that had arrived for the gallery. I could still hear the noise of box cutters slicing through layers of tape and the sweet sound of her voice humming to old tunes as she worked. If I tried hard enough, I could still see her dancing around the house to the lyrics in her head.

"Willow is here!" Mom yelled from downstairs and I collected the rest of my things: a small square vial of holy water, four newly carved stakes, and my favorite cross. Those were my tools, my weapons in the fight against evil, and I carried them in an oversized purse next to my fire engine red lipstick and the cherry bubble gum I had for when I got bored.

"Coming!" I screamed as I gave myself one last glance in the mirror. I was so beautiful and young then. My eyes dripped of innocence; I had no idea the journey that awaited me.

When I reached the edge of the stairway, I saw Willow standing shyly by the door, chatting with my mother. Long red hair hung over her shoulders and created a distinct contrast against the emerald green shirt she wore. I liked the way that shirt looked on her, bringing out her green eyes. I had told her so, and after that, she seemed to never take that shirt off. I had liked the way it looked on her so much, it hadn't even bothered me.

"Ready to go Bronzing, Will?" I asked with a smile, making my way down the steps, Willow's eyes widened in confusion. "I thought we were going to go pa—" She began to question but was cut off by my bulging eyes.

"Pa-aaartying! Yep, partying at the Bronze. That's us. The party animals. We're gonna party like it's 1999. Can't help it, no siree! I like the nightlife, I like to boogie," she babbled, with an exaggerated nod. I found her rant extremely amusing, especially since she had been holding a bright yellow Scooby Doo umbrella the whole time. Somehow the mental picture of "Willow The Party Animal" was not happening. I slipped the strap of my purse over my head so it hung across my chest, it was more Slayer friendly that way, and proceeded to walk toward them.

"Don't worry, Mom," I mused, walking passed her. I stood by Willow and locked elbows with her.

"Not only is Willow a Party Animal, she's also quite the Kung Fu expert," I finished, winking at Willow. She pouted her lips at me and rolled her eyes.

"Just take care of each other, girls," Mom offered, as her last piece of advice as we walked out of the house.

The air outside was moist and heavy with the threat of rain. It seldom rained in Sunnydale, but when it rained, it poured. I could feel it, the approaching storm; it was going to be huge, but I didn't care. Back then I thought I could take anything. I thought I was strong enough to weather any storm. A cool breeze blew across my face and I felt Willow shiver next to me. I gave her a quick glance as we walked and couldn't help but smile.

I squeezed her arm as I said it. She was cute, I'd always thought so, but sometimes her cuteness was just overwhelming. Our eyes locked gazes momentarily and I saw something, a glimmer or a spark. I couldn't quite understand it, but before I had the chance to investigate further, she looked away.

"Ohh, yippe," she beamed, clapping her hands together. "I get to pick! Hmm . . . how about we go to . . . Gordon's Cemetery?" She asked, and I groaned.

"Gordon's???" I whined. "Jeez, Willow, eleven other cemeteries in this town and you gotta pick the one that's furthest away- "

"Ohhhh come on, don't be such a lazy butt," she interrupted. "We haven't gone there in forever. It'll be like a field trip," she finished excitedly.

"But . . . but . . ." I stalled, as I searched for a good excuse. "But it's gonna rain soon, you might get sick!" I said, playing on Willow's disdain for missing school and losing the perfect attendance certificate. I knew she had ten of those at home.

"If it rains then it's Scooby Doo to the rescue!" She proclaimed, hoisting the umbrella up in the air like a mighty sword. I giggled once again. I loved taking her on patrol with me. Not only did it make the task much more bearable, but it also gave me the opportunity to bond with my friend. My only true girl friend, to be precise. "What if we get stuck in the ass end of Sunnydale, under a rainstorm, with no ride? It's not like I can call my mom and ask her to pick us up at the cemetery," I said, sounding out the syllables of the word 'cemetery'. I was trying really hard to convince her to go the lazy, less aerobic, route.

"Well," she continued explaining, "if there's a storm we'll just have to wait it out, I'm sure it won't be the first time we'll have to weather a storm together, and if anything gross or fangy should arise, I know you'll protect me," she finished, beaming with confidence. Those words rang in my ears. She was right . . . I would protect her, against anything. I stopped walking for a moment and looked at her, studying her expression. She had such a warm way about her. Sometimes, just watching her smile would make me want to smile too.

"I'm your best friend?" I interrupted happily. She had never called me that before. Even in the pale moonlight I could see Willow's face flushing a thousands degrees of red. Her body language changed as she hid her eyes from me.

"You sound surprised," she grunted softly, looking down, kicking at imaginary rocks with the tip of her pink sneakers.

"That was a good surprise, Will, not a bad one," I assured in an amused tone, tugging on her elbow with mine. "It's just—I thought Xander was your best friend," I explained. Suddenly, she looked up at me. Her eyes seemed a darker shade of green in the moonlight, her lips trembled a bit, and her gaze was fixed on me intensely.

"It's different," she whispered. I should have seen it, I should have. It was there the whole time, staring me in the face, even then. So obvious, so clear, her eyes were filled with it . . . love or lust, or both, but I was stupid and mistook what she was trying to say.

"Oh, I know," I teased, "its cause I don't give you the warm and fuzzies, like Xander does," I finished with a chuckle. Willow smiled weakly and let out a small breath.

"Something like that," she responded and we continued walking. For fifteen blocks, silence dangled in the air over us, like a dark cloud, and I chucked it up to unresolved Xander issues. The wind blew through the trees ruthlessly, swaying it's leaves from side to side, and an idea began poking it's ugly head at me.

"How about we do something childish?" I asked, and Willow raised her right eyebrow at me.

"Huh?" She asked. I unlocked elbows with her and took a step back, then with one swift jab I poked her on the shoulder.

Not sensing her following me, I stopped and turned to look at her. She was standing in the same spot, about fifteen feet away from me, with the most confused Willow face I'd ever seen. Her forehead was so scrunched; I could hardly see her eyes. I put my hands on my waist and chuckled, finding humor in her facial expression.

"I do, but, I thought we were, you know, working," she responded, moving her right arm in a stabbing motion to jog my memory, as if I'd forgotten we were supposed to be slaying.

"Alright, alright," she agreed, with reluctance. She rolled up the sleeves of her shirt and adjusted her skirt so she was comfortable, as if preparing to run a marathon. She looked at the Scooby umbrella she was holding and then looked all around herself confused.

"Just throw it at me, I'll carry it," I conceded, getting a bit impatient already. She grabbed the umbrella by the center and threw it at me like a spear. It sliced through the air gracefully, but due to Willow's untrained arm, missed me by four or five feet.

"Sorry!" She yelled, and I groaned. I didn't think it was going to be that hard to get her to play a game of tag with me. I turned around to look for the umbrella, mumbling under my breath, "I swear to God, if it would have come with a set of instructions in Latin, it would have been easier!"

Just then, as I was bending down to get the umbrella, I felt something hit me from behind at full force. I lost my balance and fell forward, landing flat on my stomach, next to the umbrella. I turned over to see what had happened and there stood Willow with an evil grin on her face.

"Yeah, right," she snorted, "like trying to outrun the Slayer was fair in the first place!"

"I meant the tackle football part, what's up with that?" I questioned, feigning anger, when inside I was bursting with the urge to laugh. The little vixen had outsmarted me.

"I didn't know you were going to fall!" She defended. "Aren't you supposed to be stronger, or sturdier or something?"

"I was bending over, Will!" I yelped. "That's definitely the last time I turn my back on you, you skank!"

I laid on the sidewalk, propped up by my elbows, looking at her. The look on Willow's face as was priceless, she was ohh soo proud of herself. Just as I was looking at her, she took a giant step backwards and raised her hands, palms forward, at either sides of her face. With her thumbs resting on her cheeks, she stuck out her tongue and flapped her hands at me.

Before the information had processed in the tiny noodle that was my brain, Willow had taken off running toward the park across the street, the one that lead into the forest. Then, almost as if the Gods had planned it, as if some higher power was guiding the events, lightning flashed and, for a slit second, the entire night sky lit up. Once the darkness had returned, the deep and loud thunder followed, crackling. I looked back at Willow and saw a flash of her red hair as she disappeared into the bushes.

"Damnit, Will, you're gonna make me get all wet!" I screamed, pushing myself up from the hard concrete sidewalk. One by one, ice cold rain drops began to fall from the sky. First I felt one, and then suddenly there were a hundred and then a thousand, and then hundreds of thousands, like someone had turned the nob on a leaky faucet. I looked toward the park where Willow had run for safe haven and smiled, I could still smell her, finding her was going to be easy. Slayer noses were hard to beat.

I jogged toward the edge of the park following her scent. I hadn't decided yet how I was going to catch her. First, I thought I'd assess her position and hide, waiting for the right moment to jump out and scare the crap out of her, but then, I remembered, Willow had a tendency to faint sometimes, or worse, throw up, projectile vomiting was not of the good. Then, I thought I'd hide and let her think something happened to me, but then it occurred to me she might freak out and the fainting and projectile vomiting fear came to mind again.

Puddles had begun to form on the ground as the blanket of rain covered Sunnydale, when a familiar smell lingered into my nose. It was the smell of corrosion and death, of dirt and grass, of blood and sweat. The pungent musk was strong and heave worthy, the stench of evil was overwhelming . . . it was the smell of a vampire and there was more than one. They weren't close, but they weren't nearly as far away as they should be. I looked around, desperately, but there was no Willow, and the rain was making it hard for me to see. Suddenly my heart began to race. Willow was wandering the park, alone, in a rainstorm, with vampires on the prowl, and she didn't even have the stupid umbrella to defend herself with.

The game, the childish game I had convinced her to play with me had turned into the mistake that would cost my friend her life. No, no, not just my friend, my best friend, my only best friend and I hadn't even had the chance to tell her so when she made her confession earlier. I should have told her she was my best friend too, I should have told her how I loved spending time with her, how I trusted her with my most important secret, and how I needed her. I didn't get the chance to tell her and her smell was becoming more and more faint with every passing minute.

"Willow!!" I screamed, at the hope that she'd hear me before the vampires found her. It only took a second for them to kill someone.

One second for them to sink their teeth into someone's neck and drain the life out of them. One second for them to destroy someone else's life, to consume them and use their essence as fuel. All they needed was one second and I had none to spare.

I darted out through the trees at an enormous speed. The roaring sound of the storm around me was loud and disorienting. I strived to listen to what was happening around me, footsteps or screaming, anything, but every time it thundered I was thrown off balance. I was searching for her with angst, afraid I'd be too late, afraid I'd loose her. The last words my mother said as we exited the house echoed in my mind.

I stopped running a moment to gather my thoughts. I was going insane with worry, and it was all my fault. A gust of wind hit and the rain began to fall sideways. I was bombarded by an army of rain drops that felt like sharp needle pricks, first one, then a hundred, and then hundreds of thousands. The sky lit up again with lightening and the entire park lit up with it. In the distance, at the edge of the entrance of the dark forest, I saw the outline of people walking. I darted out in that direction and the thunder followed me, shaking the Earth to its foundation.

The sky lit up once more and I noticed there were two and one of them was carrying something, only it wasn't a something—it was a someone—slung over their shoulder, and then the thunder boomed behind me once more. The smell of death and corrosion was becoming stronger as I zigzagged through trees and branches, and then, I remember the sky lighting up one last time right before I reached them. That's when I saw the emerald green shirt on the something they were carrying. The one Willow wore because I liked the way it made her eyes look.

The two figures turned slowly in the rain. Their eyes were yellow and evil, long razor sharp fangs hung out of their mouths, and their faces were the twisted faces of demons. I saw two skinny long legs kicking over the first vampire's shoulder. It was definitely Willow; I recognized her sneakers.

"Look," the vampire carrying Willow exclaimed, "I told you we'd find one for you quick!" Before the second vampire had a moment to move, I threw my stake at him and he was dust. It was too easy.

"A Slayer," he hissed, under his breath, and the sky lit up with lightning, revealing his blood stained lips. My eyes narrowed at the sight. I thought he had bit Willow. I thought he had sunk his skanky fangs into her. I was gonna pull his teeth out for it, one by one.

"I like Slayers, they're so . . . tasty," he finished, in a threatening tone and it thundered around us. He dumped Willow on the ground next to him. She was gagged and her arms were tied behind her back. This was obviously not a quick feeding. They had plans for her, turning her, maybe, feasting on her all night, or raping and torturing her. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. There was no more time for childish games.

"I'd be careful if I were you, I'm well known for leaving a bad taste in people's mouths," I countered.

He jumped, so high at first, that it seemed he was flying, like those vampires in the old horror movies. I moved out of the way quickly and just as he was landing, side kicked him with all my force, hitting him on his right hip. I felt his bones crush through the soles of my shoes and watched as he flew into a nearby tree, growling in agony. Before he had a chance to recuperate, I ran toward him and kicked him across the jaw. Blood splattered out of his mouth against the ground. I grabbed his arm and shoulder, and swung him over my head, slamming him hard on the ground. I took the Scooby Doo umbrella with both hands, and pulled it into the air over head, with one swift stabbing motion, I nailed him through the heart to the ground.

I was preparing to kick him once more when I heard Willow whimpering behind me. I turned back to look at the vampire and his eyes were pure evil. He would have killed Willow had I not found them in time. I pulled the small vial of holy water I carried and forced the vampire's mouth open with my hand, pouring the vial's contents down his throat and over his eyes. In a matter of minutes he began convulsing and emanating steam, and then he was gone.

The rain had begun to get worse, it wouldn't let up, not even momentarily. I turned my attention to Willow, who was laying face down on the ground. I ran toward her as fast as I could, and knelt by her, searching for wounds all over her neck and shoulder. She kept begging for something with her eyes. I removed the gag so that I could understand her and she threw up all over the ground.

"And there's the projectile vomiting," I said, holding her hair back with one hand, while stroking her back with the other.

"I'm sorry, Buffy, I just got so nervous," she whimpered, "they were going to do horrible things to me."

My heart melted when she apologized, as if she had anything to apologize for. It was I that should have been apologizing. I was the one that took her out. I was the one that convinced her to play tag. I was the one that put her in danger. I should have been apologizing, not her.

"Shhh, its ok," I soothed, "there's nothing to be sorry for. You're safe, it's all I care about right now," I assured, tracing my hand over her right cheek, "that you're safe." Willow's face was, paler than usual. She had a good scare with that vampire and I felt extremely guilty.

"Besides, at least you didn't faint on me again," I said, and just as the words were coming out, her eyes crossed and closed. She slipped into my arms, unconscious.

The storm was still going strong and Willow had fainted. I took her into my arms, holding her close to my body, weighing the options in my head. Taking her home was definitely the best idea but I couldn't come up with a good excuse for arriving, soaking wet, with an unconscious Willow in my arms. Just as I was walking across the park, I saw a jungle gym in the distance. It was one of those complicated jungle gyms shaped like the letter 'T', with several swings, a slide and even a set of monkey bars. But what grabbed my attention was something that resembled a little house sitting on top, with a red roof. I walked closer and surveyed the area. The jungle gym was made of wood and plastic, lightning proof, and that was good enough for me. I threw Willow over my shoulder and began the climb up the wood ladder.

The little play house was just that—little. The roof was only high enough for me to fit sitting down but luckily it was wide enough to fit Willow's body. I sat near the opening and laid Willow's head on my lap. Her hair was wet and tangled, and it covered her face. I removed the wayward clumps of wet hair but still couldn't see her features due to the dark, except for those moments when the sky would light up with electric charges and her sleeping face was revealed to me.

I rested my head against the wall behind me. The plastic roof top served as a conductor for noise and the sound of raindrops seemed a thousand times louder in that little play house. I ran my fingers through Willow's hair, softly, as I waited for her to wake up.

"The fortress of solitude," I teased, looking around. "Sort of I guess," I finished with a shrug. Willow seemed so confused and disoriented.

"I'll always catch you, Will. That's why you're my best friend," I said, and her eyes lit up with happiness, as if she'd been waiting for me to say that for a while. She tried to get up but her head swooned again.

"Hey there," I said, holding her down, "take it easy there Wonder Woman. Close your eyes, I'll wake you when the storms over."

"I won," she said, without opening her eyes. "You're still IT next time we play."

"Yes, you won," I assured. Willow stopped talking and I watched her breathing slow down as she fell asleep, a small nap would do The Little Hacker That Could some good. I looked out the opening of the play house at the falling rain and thanked my lucky stars I had found Willow in time, before any harm had come to her. Suddenly a bad feeling overwhelmed me.

I looked down at her and was torn. Part of me, the selfless part, wanted to warn her. Warn her about how hard being my best friend was going to make her life, warn her that things like this were going to happen to her on a weekly basis, that she was going to deal with evil, true evil, every minute of every day. Part of me wanted to scream at her to leave, to get as far away from me as possible, to run and never look back, because her life depended on it. I knew her life depended on it. I knew she'd be in danger and I wanted her to live, I wanted her to be happy and normal, I wanted her to be free.

But the other part of me, the selfish one, knew that I couldn't do it without her.

It knew that she was more than just a friend, she was my ally and my anchor to this world, she was a part of the reason I wanted to make the world a safer place. The selfish part of me needed her. It needed her more than it had ever needed anyone before. It needed her friendship, her companionship, and her advice, and it knew, that without her, I would quickly give up. Without her I would loose the will to continue and vanish into the night. It knew she made me strong, it knew she was crucial to the mission, and it knew she'd help fulfill my destiny.

"I loved her," I whispered, staring at the ceiling of the hallway between my room and Willow's room. That memory had brought it all back, like a part of me that had been hidden away for so many years.

"I love her," I corrected, still whispering. I could see again, no more vision polka-dots. My body was still in pain but it was a different kind of pain. It was the pain that came from years of lost love. Why did it take so long to allow myself to see the truth?

"I love her," I repeated and warm salty tears filled my eyes. The storm outside had begun and the sound of heavy raindrops was beating strong against the windows. Suddenly the ceiling and walls began to close in on me, or at least, in my mind they were. The long wide hallway seemed to be getting short and narrow, the high ceilings were closing in on me, and I felt as if I were lying in a coffin.

A coffin. I had been in one of those before. I had died and my friends had placed me in a coffin, because my heart had stopped beating. I dug my way out that time, banging my bare fists against the lid until the wood made my knuckles bleed and then burrowing a hole through dirt and grass, until the Earth gave birth to me once more. I climbed out of that coffin to step into another one, a coffin I had built for myself. I laid my body peacefully in there and closed the lid, alienating myself from the world, emotionless.

"Willow," I cried, silently, and hot tears burned down my face. The walls were closing in on me fast, a few more minutes and I'd be crushed. My breathing began to labor and it felt as someone was holding my heart in the palm of their hand, squeezing it tightly. The sound of the rain drops outside ceased and the only thing I could hear was my own disgusting heartbeat, growing weaker by the second. I rolled unto my stomach and pushed myself up, on my hands and knees. I had to go. I had to move or I'd be crushed, buried in a grave I dug for myself. I clung to the walls for support as I tried to stand. I needed to get out of that house as quick as possible. My legs were stronger, but not nearly as strong as they should have been. I stumbled down the hallway, bumping into the hall table and knocking over various picture frames. When I reached the top of the stairs, I could barely breathe any longer, my lungs were tight and I was gasping desperately for air. My hand slipped off the banister and down I went. I rolled down the steps like a sack of potatoes thrown haphazardly and the only thing I could hear was my own heart beat.

I looked up from the spot where I had landed, at the foot of the steps, and the front door was blocked off by Willow's suitcases. I hadn't the strength to pick them up but I needed to get out. I had stopped breathing a few seconds ago. I knew that outside I'd be able be breathe again, I counted on it. I crawled on my hands and knees through the dinning room, into the kitchen, toward the backdoor. My eyes were bulging out of my head, already, when I reached the door. I stretched up, weakly, and clung to the door knob. Suddenly, my vision faded again and my heart stopped beating, but my hand slipped and inadvertently opened the door.

I landed, face down, on the back porch and, instantly, all the noise around me resumed. Taking a deep breath, I chocked on my own saliva, and began coughing vigorously against the rain puddles that had formed on the floor of the porch. The sound of the storm around me was like a roaring waterfall, but the noise was refreshing. I turned over and lay on my back, taking long ,deep breaths. Tears were streaming down my face. I had done it. I had made it out. The coffin lid was closing, but I made it out. I knew I could.

I stood, weakly, and limped down the back steps of the porch, toward the bench that sat in the middle of our yard. My clothes were getting wet from the rain but I welcomed it, so cool and crisp, so familiar and soothing. I sat at the bench, under the pouring cold rain, and, for the first time in a long time, felt free, overwhelmingly free. I had learned the truth in my heart and so I was free, free of living in fear, free of living alone, and free of living unhappy.

I'd always known that meeting Willow was not a coincidence. I knew that we weren't just random leaves, floating on gusts of wind, bumping into each other occasionally. No, our friendship, our love, was so much more than that. Everything was connected, everything made sense, everyone had a reason and Willow was my reason. She was my reason for everything. My life became harder when we drifted apart. But now, everything made sense again, and it was because of her.

"Hey," Willow's sweet voice echoed through the rain, interrupting my thoughts. I looked up and she was standing two feet away from me. She was still in my pajamas, the ones she'd been wearing earlier when I tried to heal her. Her hair was wet and her eyes were red and swollen, as if she'd been crying. I wondered how long she'd been standing there before I noticed.

"I noticed," I whispered, looking away. I was overwhelmed. I had no idea where or how to begin the conversation.

"The house looks like you fought a team of demons," she said weakly, I could see her out of the corner of my eye, still just standing there.

"The hall table was on the floor, there were pictures all over the place, I heard a horrible banging noise," she began to say.

"How long have you felt that way about me?" I asked, turning to meet her gaze. My question caught her off guard. She stopped mid sentence and pressed her lips together, holding back the urge to cry, raindrops dripping off the tip of her nose.

"It's ok, Willow, you don't have to explain, but there are a few things I should explain," I said.

"No, Willow, I need to say this. I need to tell you the truth," I said, my eyes pleading with her. She hesitated for a moment, just a moment, and then nodded slowly as a sign for me to continue.

"I love you," I confessed, my voice shaking. Willow's eyes squinted in pain and a small crinkle formed over her nose, between her eyebrows. She brought her hand up slowly to cover her mouth, holding back tears.

"I always have," I said with distaste, angry at myself for having denied my feelings for so long.

"I must be the dumbest person alive," I conceded, "it was you all along, I knew, I knew it in here," I said, pressing my hand against my heart. "You had to reveal your heart to me before I allowed myself to see—"

"I love you, Willow, with all my heart, with all that I am," I said, and stood from the bench, walking toward her slowly. The rain was falling lightly all around us and Willow's gaze was frozen on me.

"I owe you my life, and not just because you brought me back last year," I said, taking a step toward her.

"But because you've made me want to live," I continued, and Willow's eyes filled with tears.

"Because you make me strong," I said, taking another step, a small whimper escaped her lips.

"Because I want to spend the rest of my life with you," I finished, standing right in front of her. Tears were streaming down her face, mingling with the cold rain drops. I reached out, slowly, and grabbed her hand, it was cold and clammy, and her fingers where shaking. I looked into her eyes and they were screaming my name. She wanted me, like I wanted her. There seemed to be so many things she wanted to tell me.

I pulled her into my arms, quick and abruptly, I needed to feel her body against mine. It was warm and soft, and she completed me, she fit into my arms perfectly. Suddenly, Willow burst into loud tears over my shoulder, her whimpers were emotion stirring, and I knew exactly how she felt.

"I love you, Willow. I love you. I love you. I love you," I repeated, endlessly into her ear. I couldn't get tired of telling her. I wanted her to know, I wanted her to understand, how sure I was about it.

"I can't," she whispered into my ear, and the world stopped. I held her tight for a moment, hoping I had heard wrong.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. I can't," she repeated, crying, and the second time there was no ambiguity. I pulled out of our embrace, slowly, and looked her. She was tortured. I was torturing her with my words.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, confused. "Willow, I saw it, I saw your heart. You love me, I saw it, it was in there, you showed it to me," I said, exasperated.

"Don't you remember? I ripped you out of heaven, took away your peace, only to try killing you myself later. I was going to tear you apart, destroy you, and take the world out in the process," she hissed, her eyes full of anger and regret.

"I'm not who you think I am, Buffy. I'm not innocent Willow, my heart is not made of love like yours. I'm a killer, I'm an animal, and the people that love me, end up dead," she whispered. "Willow, please," I pleaded.

"You deserve someone better, Buffy, I'm damaged goods," she said, turned, and walked away from me.

She stopped for a moment, her back still turned to me, I could see her gripping her hands at her sides as she debated what to do.

She turned her head to the side slowly and her profile was outlined in the rain, as she stared at nothing. She was about to say something, I could sense it; any moment now she would look at me and tell me she loved me too. I could feel it in my heart. I knew she loved me, I had seen it, and it was pure. She parted her lips to say something, and, just as I anxiously awaited her response, she changed her mind and continued to walk away.

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Just Beneath the Surface

by WillowX

Copyright © 2003

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