Finding Her Way Home
by rebelrsr
Chapter 4
[reviews]
Disclaimer: All things Buffy belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and lots of people in expensive suits. I'm not making any money here, just trying to create a happier Buffyverse for my favorite characters.
Spoilers, etc.: It's mostly AU, but may include massive spoilage for S6 and S7 later.
A/N: Character thoughts are enclosed by **. Flashbacks are enclosed by //. Thanks to Zenithar and Zigpal for the beta and encouragement! I couldn't do it without you.
Archiving: By permission only.
The witch could see Buffy and Tara huddled close at one of the Pump's tables. She wasn't close enough yet to hear their conversation, but they both looked fierce. She moved toward the pair — or tried to move. It felt like she was swimming through clouds. The thick damp grey clung to her hair and clothes, impeding her progress. Finally, she reached a point only a few feet away from the Slayer.
//"You don't think? What's that supposed to mean?//
Buffy's voice was strident, and Willow desperately wanted to know why her friend was so angry at Tara. She tried to move closer and reached out an ethereal hand. As she sought to touch the Slayer's arm and get her attention, the world shifted again. With a sickening lurch and an almost audible pop, the redhead opened her eyes to the warm glow of the fire and a pair of worried green eyes. "Willow? Are you OK?"
Unable to answer, the young witch stared down at Jennifer Hirsch. She reached out a shaking hand and gripped the older woman's arm. "Not sure," she managed to say. She was suddenly freezing. A quick looked showed her clothing was damp. *It was real. I was actually there. What the hell just happened?*
"Here, lean on me. Let's get you inside." Draping her daughter's arm across her shoulders, the older redhead began leading Willow toward the house. Luckily, many of the guests were tucked away in darkened corners of the ranch, enjoying the evening. No one seemed to notice their slow trek across the yard. Opening the kitchen door, Jennifer urged Willow inside.
Still shaking from her experience, Willow slumped onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. "Sorry," she slurred. "I don't really know what happened."
"Your energy is fluctuating. Whatever it was had magic at its core." Jennifer sat down next to Willow and watched her carefully. Her color was slowly coming back, the freckles fading back into the flush on her cheeks. "Can you at least describe what happened? Maybe we can figure it out together."
"OK." Closing her eyes and regaining her focus, Willow went on, "I got up for another beer. Took a not so smiley trip through memory lane during the walk. That's when everything just faded into grey."
"Faded how?" Jennifer reached out a tentative hand and lightly stroked her daughter's still damp hair.
"It was like all of the color got sucked out of everything, like walking in shadows." Turning her head a little and opening her eyes, Willow tried to smile. "I don't think I was in Kansas anymore."
"So everything faded and suddenly you were somewhere else," her mother repeated.
"Not just any somewhere. Sunnydale. I was standing in the Espresso Pump watching Tara and Buffy talk."
"Did they see you?"
"No. No one did. I don't think they could. I could see and hear everything, but I'm not sure that I was really there." Shaking her head in confusion, she met matching green eyes. "Does this make any sense? Am I going crazy?" A thread of panic seeped into her voice.
Responding instantly to the inherent need, the older redhead slipped off the stool and pulled a shaking Willow into her embrace. "No, no, baby. Not crazy." Holding tightly to her daughter, Jennifer silently cursed the situation. A litany of "what ifs" followed. What if Kirstan had been there the day of the abduction? What if she'd been a better witch and could have found a way around the blocking spell? She knew Willow was close to a breakdown; unfortunately, teaching her the control she needed was going to be almost as traumatic as her current state.
"Sweetie, you really aren't crazy. The magic is simply controlling you." Pausing to make sure Willow was listening, Jennifer steeled herself for what lay ahead. "What you did tonight shouldn't even be possible. With a thought, you shifted dimensions and translocated to Sunnydale. That kind of power, Willow, in a witch your age, is terrifying." She tightened her hold when the girl in her arms tried to pull away. "I'm not letting you go, baby. I know you aren't responsible for releasing the power, but if we don't help you learn to control the magic, we will be responsible for the devastation that happens when you eventually lose control."
"How? How do I stop this from happening? You just said I did all this with a thought!" Willow was frantic. Despite feeling drained and hollow, the young witch felt more magic surge through her channels.
Jennifer felt the rising power, too. Clamping down on her fear, she began softly chanting. Silvery mist rose from the ground, surrounding the two embracing forms. "Lock it down, Willow. Here's your first big lesson. You know what's happening; you can sense the magic growing. It's a choice now — your choice. If you don't put a lid on your power this time, you and you alone will be responsible for what happens."
Nodding in understanding, Willow reached deep into memory and began an old meditation mantra she had learned from Jenny Calendar. Emptying her mind wasn't possible, but she worked on gathering the fear and the power and flushing them slowly and safely from her channels. The mantra built upon itself, increasing the inner calm with each repetition. Five cycles into the chant, the young witch had calmed enough to see the brackish power clogging her magical pathways. Entwining those strands with newer, cleaner ones, she gave a mental push. It worked. Continuing the mantra cycles and sweeping the dark magic with purer power, Willow finally saw her system becoming clear.
With a heart felt sigh, she shut down her inner sight and returned her gaze to her mother's. "It's done." It took far too much energy for those words. Even though she hadn't moved so much as an inch in nearly thirty minutes, the mental exercise had drained her power reservoir. A reaction headache snaked through her head, just the leading edge of what was sure to be a debilitating migraine.
"I can tell." Jennifer stepped back, dropping the arms that had steadied Willow during her inner struggle. Keeping her gaze impersonal, ignoring the strained face and the trickle of blood leaking from her daughter's nose, the older witch said, "Tomorrow, we'll start your training."
***
Seeing that Buffy was cooperating, Tara said, "When Willow first started talking about brining you back, she didn't have a clue the amount and type of magic she would be channeling. Ignorance didn't last long. Basically, Willow used the urn to force Osiris to resurrect you. Along the way, she faced a variety of magical tests. I think during these trials, Willow must have tapped into her potential somehow."
The Slayer shifted in her seat, and the witch knew she was going to have to speed up the explanation. Buffy wasn't going to last long with the silence. "When she broke open the magical reservoir, she triggered a chain reaction. The power she tapped would have been hers given time. She began using it before she had reached the right levels of training and maturity. That's the reason we noticed the over-reliance on magic after you came back. A thought or a perceived need, and the magic just took care of things." Tara caught the Slayer's eye. "It is still possible that the opening was created by an essence nestled inside Willow. We can't rule that out without having someone do a deep scan. There are too many possibilities, but those are the most likely scenarios."
"OK. I get that. No absolute answers. But neither possibility explains what happened recently, with the withdrawal symptoms and her erratic behavior," Buffy said.
Dropping her gaze to the trash on the table, Tara replied, "I think that's where we get involved."
"I'm not going to like this, am I?"
"Not in the least, sweetie." The witch forced herself to meet the sad hazel gaze. "We kept telling her she had to stop 'using,' assuming she had a choice. Unfortunately, Willow didn't have a choice. She wasn't using external magical forces. The power flowed from her prematurely tapped power reserves. She couldn't stop the flow because she didn't know it was there."
"But she did go to the power broker. She even took Dawn there. If she wasn't a junkie, why did she need Rack?"
"She didn't." Tara paused to take a sip of her cold mocha. "She believed that she did. I convinced her to stop using after she did the first memory spell. Regardless of her power source, stopping meant withdrawal-like symptoms. I'm betting she freaked over the shakes and nose bleeds and rushed out to find a way to make them stop. Rack would have been the logical choice. He's the only broker in Sunnydale and because of the Hellmouth, he has a frightening array of sources."
Buffy looked stricken. "You're saying she went to Rack thinking she needed a fix. Somehow, he sensed the power in her that we missed, didn't he?"
Tara could only nod.
"Did he do something to Will? Is that why everything got worse afterwards?"
Pushing her hair behind an ear, the witch considered the question. "It makes sense, Buffy. If he tried to access her power and bleed the reservoir dry, Willow would have fought back. That might have widened the leak from her potential. Widen the break in the power barrier enough, and the magic would have flooded her channels." Tara flinched just thinking about the energy ripping through the unprepared witch. "I'm surprised she survived. That kind of magical overload easily would have ripped the lining in her channels." The Slayer raised an eyebrow in question, and Tara explained further. "It would have been like exposing all of her magical nerve endings and pouring boiling water on them."
"The accident happened because she was in too much pain to control the magic." This time, the Slayer connected the dots on her own. "She wasn't drunk on magic; she was trying to get away from Rack."
"It's a good working theory, Buffy. But that's all it is." Tara grabbed the blonde's hand. "We don't have time to wallow in guilt. If we're right about any of this, then we have to help Willow learn to control the magic. That means finding someone who has enough power of their own to be safe in case she lashes out and well-trained enough to teach Willow how to manage the unleashed potential."
"Is there anyone like that in Sunnydale?"
After running through a mental list of witches, Tara shook her head. "No one even close. The Hellmouth discourages most practitioners of White Magic. There's too much temptation to tap into the raw energy in the area."
"OK, then. I need to get home. I've got a phone call to make." The Slayer smiled sadly. "It's time to do some fence mending and hope Giles can forgive my being an ungrateful pain in his ass."