Chapter 3 – Conference With The Past

(“I wanna see it painted, painted black, black as night, black as coal. I wanna see the sun, blotted out from the sky, I wanna see it painted painted painted black, yeah” Rolling Stones – Paint It Black)

 

                Willow inhaled deeply as she felt last spell sink through her skin, through her muscles, finally enveloping each of her bones.  She wasn’t using the spells she had used before so long ago, the ones meant to give her an edge in combat with out any large side effects.  This was different.  Willow wasn’t using spells to augment what she was, instead she was forcing any and every spell in her body that could fit, that would make her faster, stronger, fast and strong enough to stop the person that had taken Tara away from her.  As Willow left the Magic Box she thought about flying, carrying herself up over Sunny Dale to Warren but she let the thought go as she began running, moving faster than she’d ever moved in her life.  It didn’t matter either way, she traveled just as fast on the ground now as she would in the air.  She’d find him, no matter where he was.

               

                Warren began running faster through the woods as the foot steps of the Slayer brushed around.  He couldn’t seem to see her, every time he heard her feet on the ground and turned to look, it seemed like she had moved just out of sight without him spotting her.  Abruptly Warren felt himself fall to the ground onto his stomach, his left leg giving out as he felt something slice into him, cutting deep into his hamstring.  Propping himself up with both his hands, the young man looked up to see the person who had been chasing him, staying just out of sight.  She was now standing over him, her face carrying a dull frown.

                “Listen,” Warren said, frightened.  “You don’t have to do---“

                “Willow!” Xander said, coming into the wooded clearing that Willow and Warren were in.  Anya and Dawn ran up behind Xander, watching the Slayer look down calmly at the young man that had shot her.  Warren began feeling his arms shaking under the weight of holding himself up but he was afraid to rest, to look away from the figure in front of him.

                “Willow, don’t do this,” Dawn said loudly.  Dawn, Xander, and Anya watched as Willow slowly crouched down to get eye level with Warren.  The Slayer reached her hand out gently and grabbed a-hold of the shirt cloth over Warren’s shoulder and gripped it tightly, then in a blur of motion, the two were gone, leaves rushing in to fill the sudden void just created.

                Warren could feel his body flopping around like a rag doll as Willow dragged him at an impossible speed, the scenery in the woods moving past him in a smear of movement, turning into a haze of dark browns and greens.  A-couple of times he felt his body hit something, whatever it was digging into him, tearing clothing and flesh.  Then his body came to an almost dead stop, his head snapping about causing a ringing in his ears and disorientation as he tried clearing his head.  A new panic set into Warren as he realized the ground was now missing beneath his feet and he began flailing desperately about at the woman who was now holding him over a cliff in the night.

                “Please, please!” Warren yelled.  “Please, da-don’t let me go!”

                “She was my tether Warren.”

                “Hu-Who?” Warren said nervously, his head still moving about quickly as he kept his eyes fixed on the long fall beneath him.

                “Tara.  She took your bullet, she took the wound you made in me, and put it into herself,” Willow said, her voice starting to carry a sneering tint in it.

                “I-I didn’t know, I’m sorry ok?  You don’t want to do this, please,” Warren pleaded.

                “No see, you’re wrong, I do want to do this,” Willow said with a smile.  The Slayer let her grip on the young man slacken slightly, his body falling, then re-tightened her grip again.  Suddenly Warren felt himself yanked closer to Willow, their faces almost touching.

                “You might as well have shot her yourself,” the Slayer said.  Willow pulled Warren closer, her mouth next to the trembling boy’s ear.  “I can keep you alive for days Warren.  There are things I can do to your body, spells that can hold the pain at bay just enough so you don’t pass out.”  Willow thrust the young man out again as far as she could, his body once again dangling over the edge of the precipice.

                “Please, don’t do this,” Warren said in a whimper.

                “But I’m not going to torture you,” Willow replied, ignoring Warren’s plea.  “Instead I’m simply going to drop you and watch your body break itself on the rocks below.  You took her away from me Warren, now I’m going to take your life from you.”

                Willow stood on the cliff’s edge, holding the shaking Warren out, her hands gripping the young man tightly.  She felt herself want to, ache to drop Warren but she just stood their silently looking at the young man, keeping him tightly in her grasp.  Every time she thought she was ready to let go she remembered Faith and how she had tortured the other Slayer, the macabre scene running over and over in her head, and Tara, her friend, the person she loved, pulling her back from the insanity after the horrible act she had done.  And that part of her held her back, kept her from hurting Warren in Tara’s name.  Willow stood there for a long time, not even hearing Warren’s pleas as part of her fought to drop Warren, while the other part fought to keep her sanity.  Finally Willow drew the young man back onto solid ground and let him go, watching as the young man nervously tried to run away again, then proceeded to hit him in the back of the head just hard enough to knock him out.  Finally, Willow let her legs collapse underneath her as she sat down cross-legged.  The redhead felt her body weaken, almost passing out as she let go of all the energy, both magical and physical, she had been holding onto.  Slouching forward, Willow let out a choked cry.

                “I’m so sorry Tara,” she felt her self mumbling.  “I’m so sorry.”

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                Willow jerked her body up in bed, sweat pouring down her face as the last bit of the dream dropped away from her, leaving only her memory.  The Slayer, who was still in her wonder woman pajamas, turned over slightly in bed and read the clock, 12:16 A.M.  Willow wiped the sweat from her forehead and heaved out a loud sigh then quietly got out of bed and headed downstairs.  Picking up the remote in the living room, Willow turned on the TV keeping the volume low, then walked into the kitchen.  Opening up the refrigerator,  the redhead grabbed out the milk carton and poured herself a glass, then put it into the microwave.  Willow started warming her glass of milk as she put away the milk-carton, then walked into the living room, letting the microwave do its work.  Sitting down for a moment, Willow watched the late night infomercial suddenly cut off, a news reporter standing in front of a prison speaking into a microphone taking its place.  Willow leaned forward, ignoring the microwave that was now announcing it was done with a gentle dinging sound.

                “We’re bringing this special bulletin to you live from Sunny Dale prison where, as we were informed just half an hour ago, a daring escape was made by three young men.”  Willow watched as three photos were brought up on the TV, showing Warren, Jonathan and Andrew.  The redhead gritted her teeth slightly.  “There is evidence that the three were helped by an outside source but it is believed that something went awry as the young man named Warren was found dead, presumably murdered by one of his accomplices or the person or persons helping them escape.  The where-abouts of the other two, known as Jonathan and Andrew, are currently unknown.  If you see either of these two men please call your local police immediately.  We will bring you more as the story progresses.”  Willow thought about doing a locator spell and tracking Jonathan and Andrew down, but let the thought go as she stood up and turned the TV off.  She wouldn’t chase after rogue sidekicks, not when she could be getting ready for her spell for Tara.  Willow had let her need for vengeance go that night she had faced her anger and wrath with Warren.  The redhead knew bringing Tara back was the only thing that mattered anymore, not chasing after people and abandoning her friend alone.  Willow walked into the kitchen took her cup of warm milk out of the microwave and walked over to the kitchen table and sat down, gently sipping the drink from her mug.

                “I love you Tara,” Willow said as she closed her eyes and inhaled to scent of the milk.  Willow took another sip from her drink then went back upstairs into the bedroom and reread the spell one more time before she went back to sleep again.

 

Chapter 4 – Resolute Conviction

(“Some call me a loser, some call me a cheater, some say I’m a salvation” Trik Turner – Friends and Family)

 

                Willow stuffed the last ingredient for the spell she was going to use on her and Tara into her book bag, barley being able to zip it close with all the spell components and book inside.   Willow felt her stomach jumping up in her throat as, once again, she began thinking about what would happened if this failed, then she shook her head slightly, trying to jar the thoughts from her head.  Willow put her backpack on and grabbed her bicycle from near the door way and paused for a moment, gathering her will up.  She was afraid, she was more afraid now than she had almost ever been before and part of her wanted to throw the book bag down and run up stairs and hide for some reason, leave what she was about to do behind.  No matter what happened, she knew that once she did this spell things would be different, changed forever.  All the years as a Slayer had defined her as a person, she had never regretted that aspect of who she was.  She always hated her failures, every time she missed opportunity and people had died from that.  She hated the pain her life had caused her friends but deep down a part of her felt complete in the knowledge of her purpose.  She knew that eventually being the Slayer would kill her, but that was ok, because she was part of something, she had meaning and importance because of what she was.  Now it was going to be gone.  After Willow had lost her parents she didn’t have much else.  She had isolated a lot of who she was from her friends, from Dawn.  She’d kept everyone at a distance, holding onto her calling as a Slayer to carry her through everything.  Now she was giving it up and she felt herself hesitate.  Willow breathed in slowly then breathed out again.  Willow felt her memories of Tara coming back like they recently had seemed to since her fears had started really creeping in this morning.  Memories and mental pictures of her friend being there when being a Slayer just wasn’t enough.  Willow knew that being a Slayer was important but Tara had been the one who had truly saved her over and over again.  Tara’s patience and friendship were what ended up keeping Willow sane in the face of demons and death.  In the process of becoming a Slayer Willow had willingly given up a portion of herself, of her humanity, to try and be a better Slayer and Tara was the only one who helped bring that back out in her.  Willow owed Tara her life, and she felt her resolve strengthen again.

                “Willow,” came Giles’s voice just as the redhead was about to open the front door.  “You can’t do this.”

                “If I ever did anything right Giles,” Willow said without turning around.  “It’s because she was there to show me the way.”  With that, Willow opened the front door and rode off to the hospital, the morning sun warmly greeting her.

 

                Willow walked into the hospital room forcing down the hope of Tara being awake, waiting for her.  But no matter how hard she tried to hide the wish away she, couldn’t stop the sinking sensation she felt when she finally opened the door all the way and looked down at her friend, still asleep on a cold white bed in the sterile room.  The redhead stifled the normal greeting she typically gave her comatose friend upon entering.  Instead, this time Willow shut the door quietly, brought a chair over to the bed her friend was laid upon, and started digging through her book bag, pulling out items and setting them on the table next to her un-waking friend.  Willow opened the book of Tekuyea to the page that the spell she had read for what felt like over a hundred times, and furrowed her brow as she began re-reading it again, preparing spell components per order of the book.  The redhead inhaled the scent of dried cloves as she laid it, mixed in with the rabbit hair and tulip petals, on top of Tara’s chest, and held the smell for a moment before letting it out and opening her eyes, her nerves calming only slightly.  Reaching over and around the flaming candles and lighting the incense next to her, the redhead began reciting the incantation from the book in her hand, her body faintly swelling with fear.  Willow kept locked onto the text, afraid of any accidental pronunciation, her mouth trembling slightly as she verbally traveled line by line down the spell text.  Finally, the redhead closed her eyes after issuing out the last word in the sentence, emotionally and physically bracing herself for whatever may come.  Silence, except for the humming of the hospital machines.  After a while Willow opened her eyes again and began letting her body un-tense as she looked around the room, over the ingredients she had used, the candles she had lit, the book in her hand, and finally onto Tara.  Bringing her hand up to Tara’s forehead, Willow gently began stroking her friend’s face.

                “Tara, can you hear me honey?” Willow said softly.  “I’m right here, right next to you.  Come on baby, it’s time to wake up.”  Willow watched expectantly, waiting for a sign, any sign, just the slightest bit of movement from Tara, but nothing came.  Willow fought the urge in her to try and bend the metal railing on Tara’s bed, to see if she still had her strength but she couldn’t make herself do it.  The redhead felt dread in her, knowing that any successful display of power would mean the spell didn’t work and so she sat there, finally slipping her hand into Tara’s, and waited until the nurses finally told her she had to leave.  Even as Willow left Tara’s room, she still kept looking, hoping for some sign that Tara was awake, but nothing came.

 

                Giles had been sitting quietly in the living room reading, waiting patiently for Willow to return, and when the redhead finally did enter, Giles could see the cold empty look on her face.  The English man set his book down in his lap and looked up at the young woman.

                “How did the spell go?” Giles asked, his voice staying calm.  Willow paused in mid-stride, her focus locked onto the kitchen.

                “She didn’t wake up,” Willow said in a matter of fact voice.  Giles let out a small sigh.

                “Do you know if you…  If you’re still the Slayer?” the English man asked in a quiet tone.  Willow stood still for a moment longer, then turned and walked over to where Giles was sitting, picked up the pen on the table next to him, and slammed it through her left hand.  “Willow, what in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Giles asked in a horrified tone.  The redhead pulled the now bloody writing utensil out of herself and laid it back down next to Giles.

                “If this heals in the next day or so, I guess that means I’m still the Slayer,” Willow said as she walked into the kitchen to wrap her hand up in some paper towels and to find a soda.

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                1805:

                “How did you know it was the meal delivery girl that took the book to Samantha?” Daniel asked of Thomas.  The two were standing at the end of the hallway that led to the cell of the trapped Slayer, Samantha, each one carrying a crossbow.  Thomas looked over Daniel’s shoulder making sure that the other dozen men he had gathered were out of a whispers earshot.

                “I’m Samantha’s Watcher.  Whether she believed it or not, I always paid attention to her.  I knew whom her friends were and that her and Glenda were becoming close.  Glenda idolized Samantha.  And when Samantha casts that spell, she’s going to need a willing subject to transfer the curse on.  She knows Glenda will make any sacrifice for her, including being the next Slayer.”  Thomas closed his eyes for a moment wondering how this situation had gotten this far.

                “Why don’t we go in now?  Why are we waiting for her to even cast the spell at all?” Daniel asked in a hushed whisper.

                “If we go in now she’ll be prepared.  We’ll more than likely be able to take her but there’s still a chance she’ll make it out.  I think what Samantha read about her power was only from my books.  She doesn’t realize how long it will take after she casts the spell.  In fact, I don’t think anyone knows how long she would remain like she is now before changing.

                “I’m ready now Thomas,” came a taunting voice ringing down the hallway from past the cell door at the far end.  “I know you feel the need to try and stop me.”  The door, which had been unlocked by Glenda earlier, opened up to reveal the rogue Slayer standing, smiling confidently.  “I’ll even give you your first shot.”

                Thomas and Daniel each dropped to one knee and readied their crossbows as six men moved to stand behind them, all leveling their weapons on the young girl without pause.

                “Fire,” Thomas said in a solid tone.  Eight arrows flew down the hallway, hitting the young Slayer from her midsection up to her head.  As the young girl started stumbling about, her one un-punctured left eye glazing over slightly, the six men that were standing behind Thomas and Daniel rotated out as the next six men with readied cross bows stepped in place and fired.  Samantha hit the ground with a gentle thud when the last of the arrows finally entered her body, Glenda leaning a trembling head out of Samantha’s cell to look at her best friend who now lay dying on the ground.

                Thomas grabbed an axe he had had one of the other men bring down with them, and began walking towards his Slayer.

                “Step back Glenda, you shouldn’t have to see this,” Thomas said.  The old man stopped next to the girl he had been training for over two years and gave the most apologetic face he could muster.  “I’m so sorry Samantha, you should never have had to deal with any of this.”  Thomas brought the axe head back and swung it down, severing Samantha’s head from her body.  Turning, the old watcher looked over at Daniel.  “Take Glenda, take her away from here and train her.  And never forget today.  Never forget that this is what you are training to save humanity.”  Thomas dropped the axe and walked away as Daniel stepped into the cell where Glenda was cowering and gently wrapped an arm around the terrified girl.

                “It’s going to be ok Glenda,” Daniel said as he started leading the young girl out of the cell, over her friend’s body, and proceeding down the hallway.  “Don’t cry now, you’re the new Slayer.  Slayer’s don’t cry, Glenda.”

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                Willow leaned up, blurry eyed, and looked at the alarm clock that was now blaring.  The redhead turned the ringing off and clicked on the light next to the bed.  Willow rolled her bed sheets back, brought her legs to hang off the bed, and sat upright, closely examining her hand she had injured last night.  The redhead gently traced her right index finger over the almost healed wound in her palm and felt her face frown.

                “I’m sorry Tara.  I’m sorry I don’t know what to do.”  Willow took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind as she walked to the bathroom to prepare for yet another day.  Stepping into the shower, the redhead turned on the water and closed her eyes, trying to clear herself of anything and everything.  After a moment, Willow began to cry as she slowly sank down to her knees, water running down her hair and face.  “Why can’t I fix this,” Willow choked out as she balled a fist and punched the shower stall tile in front of her, breaking through the wall.  Willow let her hand drop down to her side as her shoulders slumped slightly more.  “I can fix anything, that’s what I do,” Willow said softly.  “Why can’t I fix this Tara?”

 

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