Coming Home Again
by DawnBTVS
[reviews]
Author: DawnBTVS
Disclaimer: All characters, places, etc. mentioned are property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Corp.
Rating: 15 for adult language
A/N: Credit to Mad Hamlet for the image to spark the story.
Background: Willow and Buffy were together briefly at the end of Season 1. Willow cheated with Xander one night, freaked, and promptly fled.
I had been living in the streets for the past three years. I was finally 20 years old, with no parents, and no home. I had weathered many storms in my short life, but the thunderstorm above me was too much. I was currently sleeping on a green park bench, out by the town limits. I open my eyes, scowling at the darkened sky. I glance at my watch, but it broke a year ago. It gives me 11:17 AM, morning of the 24th. I lift myself off the bench, feeling my white t-shirt clinging to my skin like it's apart of me. It probably is. My black leather pants are also soaked, and I can feel the water sloshing around in my army boots. I hear the boom of thunder as the rain continues to pour around me. I listen to my stomach growl and ignore it. It's been growling for months, I'm amazed I haven't starved yet. I guess I can credit my scavenging out of trashcans for that. I wrap my arms around me for warmth, all for naught, as I stumble away from my makeshift sleeping pad in search of something. I don't know what the fuck I'm looking for. I doubt I'll even know when I've found it. Such as the way life goes.
~~~BTVS~~~
I had been down this road before, to visit Xander Harris. I lost touch with anybody and everybody a couple years ago. Last I heard, Xander had joined up with the Army. I'm not looking for Xander, or I don't think I am. I glance at windows, some lit up with light, others dark. None seem inviting or convey any warmth. I walk up a path made of pebble, and walk up onto the porch. I can tell it's a mahogany finish. The door's also mahogany, painted a blue like the stream. I lift a hand, rapping my knuckles. I can hear shuffling feet and glance up as the door swings open. A gruff looking man, roughly 40, glares back at me. He's holding a shotgun and his t-shirt hangs out over his potbelly. I just stare at him. Not the right one, I decide. I turn away and walk off, listening to his shouts. I hear the word druggie. I've never used drugs, though the temptation was there in the streets. It never called to me. Alcohol on the other hand was a good thing. Yeah, I'm underage, but none of that matters out there.
~~~BTVS~~~
I rose from the black couch at the sound of knocking at my front door. My mother was gone to some art gallery. I stumble over the crimson carpet, cursing myself for leaving my shoes about. I toss them to the side as I reach the door and open it. I'm not sure what to expect, seeing as how not many people visit. I certainly wasn't expecting her though. At first, I thought I was looking at a sewer rat. Her red hair, what was once probably shiny beneath the sun, was drenched, and hanging around her, spread over her shoulders like it was pressed onto her skull in a carefree manner. Her white t-shirt was now a sickly gray, and her black leather pants looked like they were worse for wear as well. Her skin was what caught my attention though. She had freckles splattering her cheeks, making her appear younger than she likely was. Her skin looked clammy, and a ghostly white. It reminded me of Christina Ricci when she was playing Wednesday Addams. She looked so fragile, like a piece of broken china.
~~~BTVS~~~
I shouldn't be here. Last time I was here, was when I was saying my goodbyes. Correction, I never said goodbye, but it was all a blurred watercolor anyway at this point. Who cares what reality was, right? I sure didn't. It was still raining, harder now, if anything. I had tried every house on the block, except this one. I knew what was here. I knew exactly who was behind this door. I can't believe I could be this fucking desperate. I'm freezing, cold, but I'm used to it in a way. I listen to a soft crash inside, and smile internally. I can tell it's her, no doubt stumbling over her shoes. I hear the door handle shift before I can sense the door opening. I should go. I shouldn't be here. It started with a kiss, and ended with me cheating. What the fuck am I doing?
~~~BTVS~~~
Looking back, I should've been surprised. The last person I expected to show up was standing there, on the steps, just watching me. She wasn't staring, just watching, like trying to figure me out. I wasn't surprised. Isn't that odd? I really should've been, you know, yet I wasn't. It's like I knew she would be there. I dreamed many times that she'd be standing there, not forgotten, still alive. It took me a few months to drift away from that thinking, but I never stopped believing. She's so innocent, or she was at least. She doesn't look the same, they never do. I step out into the pouring rain, leaving the door open. I think I wanted to know that it was reality. That she was there, in person, and it wasn't another dream...or a nightmare. She casts her eyes down, her once sparkling green eyes. They're dull now, definitely the result of the horrors she likely had to face.
"Willow?" I ask, softly, barely even whispering it. I just figure it's a dream, you know? Another dream in which she gets whisked away from my life.
~~~BTVS~~~
Her voice was soft, almost faint, like she didn't believe I was here. I couldn't believe I was here. Of all the fucking places...I had to be here. She still looked the same. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail. She was wearing black jeans and a white t-shirt. It matched mine, although mine was gray, and crusty. I lift my eyes from the stone steps and take in her gaze. She's looking at me. Really, looking at me, like she's seeing me for the first time. I stay quiet, not sure how to break the ice. Fucking Xander. One night was all it took. I clasp my hands behind my back and kick at the steps. I'm nervous. I shouldn't be here. I should leave and just go. My feet won't listen though. Fucking feet.
~~~BTVS~~~
I step ever closer, eyes searching hers. I'm trying to figure out what happened. Where my sweet Willow went. I step forward, an arms length away now. I press my hand against her cheek. It's cold, like touching an ice cube. Willow just stays frozen, afraid. I want to tell her she shouldn't be afraid. I want to assure her that I was waiting, always waiting by the door, waiting for that knock. I was here, Willow. I was waiting. I waited so long, and you never showed up. I almost forgot you. I can feel tears now, falling, leaving tracks down my cheeks. She's real.
~~~BTVS~~~
I hold my flinch, feeling Buffy's hand cup my cheek. It's warm, a far cry from what I've felt since. I hadn't been touched physically in so long. I forgot what the feeling was like. I keep my eyes on Buffy's, not wanting to show her that I'm weak. I'm fucking hardened now. No more innocent Willow who got tormented in school and yelled at by parents. No more shy Willow who couldn't hold a conversation with boys. No more insecure Willow who couldn't admit her beauty when confronted by others. She's crying now. I want to console her, tell her something, anything. I remain quiet. I fled life amidst quiet. Quiet worked in the past. Quiet's the only thing that has ever worked for me.
~~~BTVS~~~
I lower my hand from her cheek and wipe my tears away. It's clear that she isn't the Willow I knew. She was a far cry from my dreams, but a close resemblance to my nightmares. I notice her arms wrapped around herself. I just eye her, not wanting to make her run off again. I'd die if she did such a thing, again. I hurt so much when she left. I wonder if she knows how much pain I was in. I hurt. I cried, and I hurt, and you weren't there. You were the cause. Imagine that, huh? I waited though. One time past, you'd have been proud. You would've told me I was brave, you know. I was loyal. You don't say that now though. I'm not even sure you think it. What went so wrong I want to ask, but I don't. We are dancing now. We both know what the issue is, but we can't convince ourselves. I turn back to the door. I left it open, by accident, I think. I turn back to Willow who's eyeing me.
~~~BTVS~~~
I let out an internal sigh of relief when she lowers her hand. Contact was too much, too soon, too quick. We are silent. I don't think I can handle being back. I was here once, a long time ago, but that was the past. She hurt. I know she hurt, I can read it in her eyes, the pain still lingering, a permanent scar on her soul. I was foolish. Foolish then, and foolish now. She glances back at the open door. For a brief second, I wait for her to go up the steps, and close the door on me. Just like I did, once. She turns though. I can tell she wants to ask me. I want her to ask me. I don't want to come in though, not sure. It was all fucked up, what went down. It was a one-night dance. Fucking stupid.
~~~BTVS~~~
"Do you want to come in?" I ask, whispering. It's funny. It's not like we were in a library, but I didn't want to say anything loud. I was afraid the sound would scare her off. She used to be afraid of frogs. Now, it seems that nothing can scare her. She's hardened, like I once was. I was the Slayer. I know what hardness is. Willow broke me from that mold though. Willow looks around. She doesn't want to come in. I bite back my cry of anger, frustration. She can't leave.
~~~BTVS~~~
There it is, out in the open. The question I wanted her to ask, and I'm not sure how to answer. She's pleading. I can see it all over her body. Her hands are trembling, shaking. It might be the rain, but that's naïve. She's getting soaked too, becoming a mirror image of me. I look around, almost to make sure that nobody else was witnessing what I was about to do. It was a stupid decision. At least, as far as I was concerned. I swore I wouldn't come back, wouldn't relive the Hell.
"Okay," I say. It's soft, one word. One word shouldn't mean so much.
~~~BTVS~~~
"Okay," she says, quiet, melodic. One word shouldn't mean so much. I don't smile, though I want to. It's not even a first step. I can feel my heart pounding. I've dreamed of this scenario so many times. That's the difference between dreams and reality. Dreams are mapped out. I turn and walk towards the door. I open it wider as she walks forward. She pauses, almost re-thinking. I hold my breath. She glances at me and continues forward. She steps in. She's alive. I close the door.
~~~BTVS~~~
It's the same house, three years later. Same rooms, same stairs, same everything. We aren't the same though. We'll never be the same, not after what happened so long ago. I panicked, Buffy. I want to apologize, but my jaw remains set. It feels glued shut, unwilling for my mind to revert to what I once was. I can tell Buffy wants that, probably needs that. I can't give it to her though, not yet. Buffy grabs a towel and hands it to me. I place it on the chair at the kitchen counter and sit down. Buffy places a cup of hot chocolate in front of me. I look up at her uncertainly.
~~~BTVS~~~
I'm soaked and cold, but I stay pressed against the sink. I watch her. Her eyes are regaining some of their shine, even if it's only seen in brief moments. I can take brief moments. I've had a long wait. She picks up the cup, taking a tentative sip. I continue to watch her. I can tell it's been a long time since she's had anything warm. What did you do to yourself, Willow? I want to say something, just get into a conversation. What do I say though? I want to hug her, kiss her. Let her know I'm here. I'm here. See me? I waited and you came back. I can protect you again. Please?
~~~BTVS~~~
I swallow another sip of hot chocolate, grateful. I lift my eyes up, and I can see Buffy. Her green eyes like reflections of a haunted past. I tried so hard to forget. Yet, here I am. I want to hug her, kiss her. I want to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Buffy. I panicked, but I'm back. You never forgot me, and I never forgot you. I want to tell her how much I missed her. I can feel myself getting color again. I lower my eyes back to my cup.
"I miss you," she says, soft, so faint I almost didn't hear it.
~~~BTVS~~~
"I miss you," I whisper, quietly, almost to myself to make sure I'm still here, that I haven't suddenly floated away. She lifts her eyes, regarding me with sadness. I try to smile, but I can't. I can feel a tear falling down my cheek, but I refuse to wipe it away. I'm through trying to be strong for myself, and strong for Willow, and whatever issues happened in the past. I wait for her to stand up, but she doesn't. She just stares at her cup, but I notice her hands trembling. The cup is hot, I should know, I held it. I just watch her, waiting, like I've always done.
~~~BTVS~~~
I look at her, feeling sad. I was living the life of a homeless person. I didn't plan to come back, Buffy. Somewhere deep with-in me though, I did. Ever since the thunderstorm woke me up, I knew. She wants me to get up; I can feel it even as I look down at the cup. I can't though. I can't repair what happened between us. I damaged us. Why did you take me in, Buffy? I can feel the wall crumbling. The hardness I had worked two years on building up, just crashing to the ground.
"I'm sorry, Buffy," I whisper.
~~~BTVS~~~
"I'm sorry, Buffy," she whispers, and I can see her covering her eyes, sobbing into her hands. She's vulnerable. She's crying. She's not hardened, not the hardened woman I saw outside, waiting, uncertain. Willow. I stay still. I want to interact, physically hold her, soothe her, and tell her it's okay. It can't be okay though. We're damaged, fractured, broken apart. We're supposed to suffer and stay away. She sniffles and wipes her tears away with her sleeve. She glances up at me and I can see she's disappointed. She wanted me to console her. I did, Willow. I wanted to console you.
~~~BTVS~~~
I wipe my tears away, knowing I was an idiot for letting my shield down like that. I shouldn't have expected her to hug me. We were broken. We'd never have one another for comfort. I made sure of it. She probably knows that we can't be together. Not after what I did. I miss you, Buffy. I miss your embrace, and your kisses. I miss everything. I lower my eyes again, only raising them when I hear a strangled mix between a sob and my name.
~~~BTVS~~~
I needed her. What happened...was horrible. I hurt so much. I waited though. I waited, and here she was. She was here, here she be. I wasn't doing anything, though! I wanted her, and I curled up. No more! I let out a sob, and shouted Willow's name. I dashed around the counter, just launching myself at the redhead. God, I've missed you, Willow.
~~~BTVS~~~
I widen my eyes. Inside, I'm happy. I shouldn't be, after the way I hurt her. I catch Buffy hurtling around the counter, arms spread, soon tightening around me. I feel the last remnants of the column I built up from my harrowing journey blow away. I hug her, as tight as I can, wanting to squeeze the life out of her. I love you, Buffy. I love you, more than I can say. I feel Buffy's tears splashing against my neck. I'm so sorry.
~~~BTVS~~~
I won't let this opportunity slip away, again. I lost you once, Willow, and that will never happen again. I pull my head back off her shoulder and place both palms on her still cold cheeks. I press my lips tightly against hers, savoring the moment. I pull back, but keep my hands where they are, on Willow.
~~~BTVS~~~
I feel Buffy pull away and experience a brief panic attack at the loss of contact. She places both hands on my cheeks, quickly pressing her lips to mine. I never forgot the taste. I always remembered, Buffy. Even through the dark hours, I never forgot. She pulls away, keeping her hands on my cheeks. I lift a cold hand, pressing it against hers, relishing the contact. She gives me a soft smile, and I can see her eyes sparkling. A love renewed.