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Nowhere
Far Enough
Even at a distance she looked angry, ready to pick a fight. Tara knew the girl's body language. Willow was depressed, and in a mood to take it out on anyone who was handy.
Tara kept out of sight, watching from one side as Willow sat in the cafeteria and brooded, head in hands. For many weeks, Tara had been avoiding anywhere Willow might be. But she was bound to run into her former lover eventually. Did Tara still care? Very much so. Was she still angry? Yes. Was there some small satisfaction in seeing that Willow was feeling even worse than her? Perhaps. But mainly it saddened her deeply. Willow was so good at heart. What she had become was a terrible waste. And a terrible loss for Tara. Willow had gained too much power with too little preparation. She wasn't the first witch to become addicted to black magic that way. And few witches ever beat that addiction.
She knew Willow wasn't home, so... time to make a call. Tara slipped around the corner to a payphone.
"Hello?" the voice on the other end was annoyed, and Tara smiled.
"Your sister giving you a hard time?"
"Tara!" said Dawn, delighted. They were so close, but had spoken very little since Tara had moved out of the house Willow shared with the Summers. Dawn felt abandoned and betrayed by Tara, and had long wanted Tara to just come back and give Willow another chance. But she still looked forward to Tara's rare phone calls and rarer visits.
"How've you been, Dawnie? How's Buffy?" the two girls exchanged news, neither wanting to mention Willow first.
Eventually Tara took the plunge. "I just ran into Willow."
"You did?" Dawn sounded worried. Odd. Tara would have expected her to sound happy.
"She didn't see me, but I saw her. She doesn't look like she's doing too well. So... I wanted to, you know... check in and see how she's been."
"Oh, Tara, she's getting so scary! She's really into black magic worse than ever!" Dawn had a lot to let out–her sister agreed on this, but the Slayer was sick of hearing about it from her.
Tara's heart sank. Part of her had thought Willow was getting better, and might just be depressed because she missed Tara. Tara felt helpless. Nobody could help Willow–and she desperately needed help, before she hurt herself or anyone else worse than she already had.
"What's she been doing?"
"She's just in a bad mood all the time, and studying books that I know are bad. She uses magic to... get girls... you know, to like her. Do stuff with her." Tara felt a fresh stab of misery. She had not seen anyone since Willow. She still hoped somehow her old Willow would come back to her one day.
"She does magic all the time without even thinking about it. And she gets mad and threatens people, even Buffy and me. Even Amy is hiding from her! My sister wantes to kick her out I think, but she hasn't done it. I'm scared."
"I think I'd better talk to her." Tara sighed heavily. She didn't know what she would say to Willow. But at least she wasn't afraid of her. And she missed Willow terribly. She felt one of her hopeless fantasies coming on–one of the fantasies about somehow helping Willow to change.
"Tara, don't! I miss you so bad, I wish you could come back, but... I know why you left now. I just want you to be safe."
"I'll be gentle with her. I'll just see if she wants to talk."
"No, you don't know how scary she is! Please promise you won't go near her!"
Tara did not reply.
"Tara, I'm serious! Please promise!" Silence. "Tara?... Tara are you there? Tara?"
What had once been a telephone swung back and forth in the air and then dropped to the ground, hissing softly. The snake slithered away down the hall.
"Willow!" she could not believe the witch had just done that. It was so caculatedly offensive, not to mention that a dozen people could have seen it happen–and probably did! She could not believe that was the first contact Willow would make with her after all this time, and she just stared, speechless, at the other witch.
"Do you talk about me behind my back a lot?" Willow's expression was almost childishly defiant. The look in her red-rimmed eyes was so lost, so scared–and yet violent, like a cornered animal.
"No... but I care about you, Willow. And I care about Dawn." Tara didn't want to be having this conversation after all. Not with a start like that.
"Yeah, and I'm the bad guy now... better tell Buffy and have her stake me."
Tara turned to walk away, feeling long-suppressed feelings of loss and betrayal, but willing herself not to cry. This conversation was a waste of time at best.
Willow grabbed her roughly by the arm. She shook off the grip and walked faster.
"Tara..." Willow's voice suddenly sounded so small. Tara's shoulders slumped. She turned around, and Willow was not pursuing her. Just watching her go, with her lip trembling.
Against her better judgment, Tara walked back to Willow, sitting down on a bench and patting the seat beside her.
Willow sat down, leaving plenty of space between them and slouching forward with her hair hiding her face. Her body language now spoke of self-loathing rather than aggression.
"I'm sorry, Tara."
Tara did not reply.
"I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too."
"I'd like us to try again."
Tara's heart stirred at that, but it wasn't that simple. She tried to think how best to approach this. "I really am worried about you. Everybody is."
Willow stiffened but remained silent.
"Do you... even want to stop abusing magic like this? Do you understand that you have a problem?"
Willow's head came up, and the violence was in her eyes again. "Tara, I am a more powerful witch than you will ever be. That's hard to swallow I'm sure, after you've studied all your life. But that's the way it is." Willow secretly slipped a knife from her pocket into her palm. "Playing games with me isn't going to change that. It's just going to get me really pissed!"
"If by power you mean black magic, you can have it. I'd rather have no power at all than use it for my own wishes without regard for anyone!" Tara sounded angry, but mainly it was the old frustration coming back. The frustration that Willow couldn't see what was so obviously wrong with her actions.
Willow put a hand behind Tara's head and pulled her close, looking into her eyes with mixed fury and desire. Tara jumped up and walked quickly towards the nearest exit.
"Where are you going, Tara?" Willow's voice sounded lonely and spiteful all at once. "There is nowhere far enough, I promise you! We are meant to be together."
For the first time, Tara felt truly frightened of her former girlfriend. She hurried away without looking back.
Willow didn't even watch her go. She smiled, looking at the lock of Tara's hair she held in her hand.
The Magic Box was mysteriously out of anything Willow needed lately. But she had other sources. Sources that could get materials the Magic Box would never let through the doors. Locked in her room, Willow opened her bag and took out twisted roots, black powders, and jars of thick, dark red liquid. Her eyes shone with the thrill of her own power.
She used a feather to paint a complex rune on the inside of an earthenware bowl, following the diagram in a heavy iron-bound book. She added ingredients, muttered in Latin, and stirred with what might or might not have been an animal bone. Finally, when the mixture had become a sizzling black tar, she set the bowl in the floor, squatted awkwardly, and urinated. Then she wrote on a piece of dirty fabric–freshly obtained from a coffin lining–and set it aside.
She took Tara's hair from her pocket. She had tied it carefully–lovingly even–with white thread. For a moment her eyes softened. But only for a moment.
She dropped the hair into the foul potion, which began to bubble slightly. "I demand love. I demand need. I demand a bond with the name I read." She read her writing aloud three times. "Tara Maclay. Tara Maclay. Tara Maclay!"
The liquid instantly froze into yellowish ice, trapping the lock of hair within. The spell was sealed.
Would Willow take her back? Surely not. But she had to try. She had to see Willow right now.
Skipping class, Tara drove to Buffy's house and knocked, her heart pounding with nervousness.
"Tara! Willow's here, you better go!" Dawn whispered in a panic.
Buffy appeared behind her sister, and broke into a grin. "Tara! It's so nice to see you!" Then the Slayer grew solemn. "You're here to see Willow?"
Tara nodded and entered her former home. Dawn held Tara's hand and tried to lead her towards her own room. But Tara pulled free without a second glance at Dawn, and knocked on Willow's door.
"Come in, Tara."
Tara felt faint. She didn't know what she would do if this went badly. She entered, her hand shaky on the doorknob. Willow sat on the bed, facing away from her.
"Willow, I've thought about us... I don't know know why I get so weird about you sometimes... I want... please, Willow...." Tara was crying now. "Please, take me back! I will be so good to you, I promise! I... I can't live without you!"
Willow stood, walked up to Tara without expression, and took her former girlfriend's hands. Then she smiled. "Do you love me, Tara?"
"I love you, Willow!"
Willow pulled Tara close and the two witches kissed passionately.
Tara never wanted the kiss to end, but Willow pulled away after a time. "I love you too, Tara."
"I can't believe it!" said Buffy. "This is wonderful!"
Willow and Tara smiled, holding hands at the dinner table they had not shared in so long.
Dawn was silent, staring at the two with a sense of dread she could not explain. Tara had said that she and Willow had worked things out. But it sounded too easy. Too perfect.
Willow caught Dawn's glance, and the Slayer's sister looked down quickly.
Tara and Willow fed each other, kissed, and snuggled all through the meal. Buffy smiled shyly–she'd forgotten what a cute couple her friends made.
But to Dawn it wasn't cute. It was... creepy. The look in Willow's eyes was as close to madness as she had ever seen.
Willow showered slowly, relishing the anticipation of what she had craved for so long. She had had sex since Tara left–the Bronze was a great place to fish for something pretty, and a one-night love spell was child's play. But Willow knew that there could never be a replacement for Tara. There could never be a replacement for true love. Tonight was going to be incredible!
While drying her hair, she let her robe fall open a bit on purpose, smiling at the hunger in Tara's eyes. Tara was in bed already, lying on top of the covers in the revealing teddy that Willow had bought for this night. Willow's eyes explored every inch of her mate: that outfit wasn't Tara's style at all–but it should be.
Willow joined Tara on the bed and kissed her mouth. She thrilled to the pure, simple need she felt herself fulfilling for Tara. She let her robe fall away, and allowed Tara to caress her neck, her waist, her breasts. Both girls were breathing hard and already extremely aroused.
Willow unzipped the front of Tara's teddy with her teeth. At the end, her nose brushed the witch's fluffy curls and she breathed in an aroma that had haunted her dreams for so long.
"I'm so glad you've forgiven me, Tara. I know I've been a bitch from time to time." She kissed Tara's breasts eagerly, and Tara's head fell back in ecstasy. She put a hand against Tara's warm, wet sex, and Tara responded in kind.
"Oh, Willow," she whispered, "You can do anything to me. Anything it all... It doesn't even matter..."
Willow froze. She leapt away from Tara, turning her back to the girl with her mouth gaping and her eyes wide. She was suddenly very pale. In a daze, she wrapped herself in her robe again. Willow's eyes began to water.
"Willow? What did I do?" Tara's voice was confused and pleading. "Come back, I'll do anything!" she whined.
All at once, Willow was sobbing–a choked, endless scream broken by a flood of tears.
Tara tried to comfort her lover, but feeling Willow's shudder, she backed away, shedding her own tears at this rejection.
Eventually, Willow fell silent, her face immobile but her eyes haunted. "You have to leave."
"Willow, no, don't make me go!" Tara crawled to Willow's feet, hurt and bewildered–practically begging. "I'll die without you!"
"Do you want me to rape you?"
What an odd question. Tara stopped crying, perplexed. "Rape me?"
"Do you want me to rape you?" Willow asked again, quietly. "Because I won't. I have already raped your mind–again and again. I've denied your right to your own feelings, your own thoughts. I won't rape your body as well."
"I don't understand, Willow! I forgive you for everything you did. Can't we just be together?" But Tara knew she wasn't good enough for Willow. She felt like she was falling, and it seemed that Willow would not catch her. She knew she could not face a future without her Willow.
"Tara... I have to live with all the terrible things I have done. I have to live with the fact that you..." she began crying all over again, "you are the most wonderful person I will ever know... and I am the worst thing... that will ever happen to you." Tara was stroking Willow's legs in a pathetic, desperate way, and the redhead jumped up to get away. Neither girl's tears showed any signs of stopping.
Tara was overwhelmed. "You are the best thing that ever happened to me! Please, Willow, give me one more chance! I'll do anything! Please.... love me!"
"I do love you. I will love you always." Willow didn't know how she would ever face herself in the mirror again. "That's why you must leave. Now. You must protect yourself. From my evil. You don't love me. It's a black spell, and nothing I can do will take it back."
"A spell? Don't you think I'd know, Willow? Why are you doing this? Why won't you give me one more chance!" Tara was whining on the floor, still half-undressed, looking up at Willow in misery.
Willow reached under the bed. "Look!" She showed Tara the bowl that still held her hair frozen into ice that would not thaw.
Tara fell silent. She did not know how to perform such a spell, but she knew what she was looking at.
"Tara... I need you... you have no idea how much... but I'd rather know you are OK, and never see you again, than have you by my side being harmed by me." She was still crying softly.
Tara just stared at the bowl. It couldn't be.... these were real feelings. She knew they were! She imagined taking Willow's words at face value–just getting up and leaving. She knew she couldn't do it. She wouldn't last half a day.
"You don't believe me?" asked Willow. "Did you see how Dawn was looking at us? Ask her." Tara only had eyes for Willow tonight, but thinking back, Dawn had looked downright frightened to see her friends together again. Tara frowned.
Willow picked up a pair of scissors and, calming herself by force of will, cut off a lock of her own fiery hair. She handed it to Tara. "Here. Take this. You know what to do. Only you can end this spell. I won't use magic to persuade you. Never again. But... you have to do this. You have to!"
Tara did know the white magic to counter Tara's black. So, in theory, there would be relief from this aching need. But she didn't want to give up this need! She wanted to fulfill it!
Tara stared from the bowl, to Willow, to the lock of hair in her hand. She couldn't feel the reality of the situation. But intellectually, she knew Willow spoke the truth. And she was strong. Ironically, before meeting Willow, she knew she would never have been strong enough to do what needed to be done today. She nodded agreement, feeling suddenly weary and drained.
Willow saw that Tara would have the strength to end the spell. She was relieved–and terrified. Now it was time for complete honesty. Tara deserved nothing less. "There's one more thing. The spell I used... it's a strong one. Very strong." Her tears threatened to erupt again. "Once you counter this spell.... you will never be able to fall in love with me again." Willow knew that this was exactly the punishment she deserved. She would always love Tara, but Tara could never love her back. Willow wasn't sure how long she could go on like that. But she'd find out soon enough.
Tara couldn't grasp that emotionally, but that was indeed how these spells worked. She felt a terrible sense of loss–but she maintained her resolve. That feeling of loss was surely the result of the love potion.
Tara dressed and slipped Willow's hair into her pocket. She would end the spell as soon as she was home. She felt she would be lucky to make it that far without turning back.
Tara put her arms around Willow to hug her goodbye. Forever, probably. But Willow backed away and would not touch her. "No. I'm sorry. I can't do it. My feelings are real. But yours just aren't."
Tara turned and left, her tears flowing silently.
Less than an hour later, Willow's bowl erupted in foul-smelling steam. When the air cleared, Tara's hair sat in the empty container, burning with a cold, white flame. When it was gone, not even ashes remained. Willow cried. She did not want to be alive.
She wanted to storm out into the night, venting her anger with spells that would fell trees, light fires, strike terror into anyone who crossed her path. She wanted to feel power if she could not have love. But it was as though she had been drowning and had finally emerged to take a breath. She knew she could never use magic so selfishly again. She would rather die. So she simply suffered, curled into a ball on her lonely bed.
Tara watched through tear-filled eyes as the white fire consumed Willow's hair in her palm. The aching, gut-wrenching need in her heart and loins burned away as well. It was a relief. But it left her feeling sickeningly hollow.
Willow moved through life on autopilot, feeling the agony of her self-made hell every waking moment. Weeks went by, and although Dawn was no longer afraid of her–was very sweet and concerned, even–nobody had ever heard from Tara again.
Eventually, Tara came upon Willow in the cafeteria again. Her former lover looked haunted and drained, sitting alone just as she had the last time. But this time, Tara was looking for her. This time, Tara approached.
"How are you?" said Tara gently, deeply concerned about her old friend. She hoped this meeting would not be too painful.
"I'll be OK," said Willow. But privately she had her doubts. Especially if Tara wanted to continue some kind of friendship. Willow knew she couldn't take that. And something about Tara's behavior didn't seem right. "Why are you here?"
Tara looked down at the table but found no words. Willow was suddenly afraid that the love spell might not have been broken–and equally afraid that she was half-hoping that were the case. "The spell... it has to have been broken..." she said.
"Yes. It was broken. I will never fall in love with you again. It's strange, how I can feel that fact. It's like a mark on my soul that I can never forget. But I'm OK, too." And she did believe that Willow was OK. Not happy. But... good inside. Kind. Which was Willow's true nature, after all.
"How are you doing with magic?" Tara was afraid a change would come over Willow at this question.
"I help Buffy every now and then. But no black magic. No magic just for me." She sighed. "I want to, of course. But... I fought the urge today. And yesterday. And the day before that, and.... and so I guess I can fight the urge tomorrow too."
"Do you need to fight it alone?"
"I wish I didn't."
"You still love me."
Willow's breath became shaky. "I always will. I destroyed what we had. I will always pay the price. I'm only glad you left me when you did. You deserve better."
"I left you because I had to. I'm glad you understand that." Willow nodded.
Tara squeezed her hand. "Take care of yourself, Willow." She stood up. This contact was cruelty, and she couldn't bear to cause such torture.
"You too, Tara." Saying Tara's name in that cold, empty way made Willow sick to her stomach. It wasn't the goodbye Tara deserved.
Willow answered the door and was surprised to see Tara again.
"Willow–I hope this isn't a bad time to stop by."
"No... come in." The two witches sat on the couch. Willow felt a pang. This brought back too many memories.
Tara got right to the point of her visit. "Would it make it harder for you to fight your problem, if I were part of your life again?"
"No..."
"Then what if we decided to be friends again?"
"...but my heart would break... every time I saw you... Like it's breaking now."
Tara hugged Willow, intending comfort but bringing the girl to tears instead.
"Willow... I know I can never fall in love with you again," Tara said, feeling her own tears welling up, "but... really... that doesn't matter."
Nothing else in the world mattered to Willow.
"Because, Willow..." Now Tara was crying just as hard as the girl in her arms. "...I never stopped loving you. And I never, ever will!"
"Oh, Tara," sobbed Willow, "how could you love me?"
"How could I not?" Tara answered, her voice breaking. "You make me complete."
She kissed Willow, and all doubts evaporated. This love was forever.
In her room down the hall, Dawn smiled through tears.
I would be grateful if you would give me your comments and rate my stories in my Guestbook, or email me. Reader responses will determine whether I publish more stories, and will help improve them! Thanks for reading!
If you enjoyed this story, try Witch's Faith. Feeling rejected by Tara and Buffy, Willow finds herself working with Faith–and falling in love. When the dark Slayer's plots turn deadly, Willow must betray someone she loves. But who will she choose?
Willow felt very exposed. "Thanks for leaving me my socks." Everything else she had been wearing was now in shreds scattered to the four walls. Faith's passion had been downright scary at times. There had been no question who was the natural predator and who was the willing prey.
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