Finding Her Way Home
by rebelrsr
Chapter 9
[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.: "Dopplegangland," "Something Blue" and everything after "The Gift."
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.
An hour later, Buffy jogged up the stairs of Tara's residence hall. She'd spent the entire walk to the UC-Sunnydale campus practicing and discarding possible conversations with the blonde witch. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, the Slayer rapped sharply on the older girl's door. Faint rumblings indicated someone was inside, but several minutes passed without anyone answering her knock. Trying again, Buffy called out, "Hey, Tara? I talked to Giles. Looks like the situation is even stranger than we thought."
Finally, the door opened a crack. A woman who was not Tara peered through small opening. Eyes widening, the blonde cast a frantic look at the door. *Yep, I'm at the right room. Fuck...* "Hi, is Tara in?"
"She went to grab some breakfast."
*OK. Someone obviously doesn't like mornings*. "Um, alright. Thanks. I'll just wait out here," Buffy stammered. "Sorry if I woke you up." She flashed a smile.
The tousled brunette grunted and slammed the door.
Shaking her head, the Slayer sat crossed legged against the wall to wait. The woman in Tara's room was a complete surprise. A good surprise. The blonde witch was a definite rival if they managed to help Willow with her magic and fight off the new evil in town. Buffy did an internal happy dance and let her mind wander to thoughts of her favorite redhead. No matter her inner joy, the blonde couldn't keep memories of the more recent past from darkening her mood. Images of happy, smiling, fuzzy-sweater wearing Willow disappeared in a wave of mental reruns of the last argument.
To stave off another round of "how could I be so stupid," she shot to her feet and paced up and down the hall. Thankfully, mid mornings seemed to be a quiet time, and she only received a few strange looks from the handful of residents heading out for the day. The blonde was so focused on replaying her argument with her best friend she didn't see Tara come out of the stairwell.
"Buffy? What are you doing out in the hallway?"
The Slayer spun quickly and dropped into a defensive stance at the unexpected question. Seeing the amused look in the witch's eyes, she straightened slowly. "Damn, Tara. I could have really hurt you."
The older girl dropped her head and hid behind her hair as usual when confronted. "I th-thought you knew I was th-there." She peered at the other girl. "You didn't answer my question. Why are you in the hall?"
Blushing, Buffy said, "I knocked. Your guest didn't seem too thrilled to see me."
"My guest? Oh!" Tara started laughing. "Buffy, you thought —"
Nodding awkwardly, Buffy mumbled, "Um, yeah."
Wrapping her free arm around the shorter girl, the witch steered her companion back toward her dorm room. "Sweetie, Paula's a witch. We were up until really late trying to find someone in the area who could scan Willow."
Buffy stopped in the middle of the hallway. "You told her about Will?"
"For Goddess sake, Buffy, no!" The normally shy blonde looked angry. "I just told her I needed to find someone to help me train and expand my powers. She's got some great connections to the local covens."
"Sorry, Tara. It's just, I talked to Giles. There's a lot I need to tell you."
Staring at the suddenly very serious Slayer, the witch said, "OK. Let me drop off breakfast and let's find someplace to talk."
"Don't you have class?"
"Hmmm, class or saving Willow?" Disbelief colored her next words. "How could you think for even one minute I would go to class if you had information?"
"I-," Buffy hesitated. "Hell, Tara, I...Fuck. I'm sorry. The stuff Giles found out isn't of the good and I've been kinda lacking with the coping skills."
Frowning and looking concerned, Tara said, "Stay here, sweetie." She unlocked and eased open the door to her room. Sliding through the narrow opening, the witch disappeared. Buffy could hear the rumble of conversation as she waited impatiently in the hallway, but didn't make the effort to listen closely. A few minutes later, Tara reappeared and joined the Slayer on the other side of the door.
"Let's take a walk, OK?" The older girl asked.
"Sure. I need to burn off some energy, anyway." Buffy turned toward the stairs. "Where you and...um...Paula able to find anyone to help Will? 'Cause Giles said someone named Althenea had given him a name, too."
"No, we couldn't find anyone I thought was strong enough," Tara chuckled mirthlessly. "Paula thought I was crazy. I mean, all I told her was that I wanted a mentor. I don't think she bought my explanations for why the witches she knew wouldn't work."
The witch tilted her head at the slightly distracted Slayer as the exited the building and headed away from the main portion of the campus. "Hey, Buffy, you OK?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Tara remained silent as they passed the last of the dorms and took the narrow trail leading into a wooded area surrounding the university. Finally, when the Slayer didn't say anything more, the witch realized she would have to push for answers. "No, you're not fine. You haven't been fine since you closed the Portal." Seeing the smaller blonde start to protest, she continued. "Do you eat anymore? Do you sleep? If we hadn't all been so wrapped up in Willow, no one could have missed the changes in you."
Buffy concentrated on her boots and fought back tears. "I've been trying to get back in the swing of things. But I'm not the one we need to worry about right now. We have to help Will." The words came out too shrill; the Slayer was on the edge of a breakdown. Trying one of the meditation techniques Giles had taught her years ago, Buffy managed to regain some of her equilibrium. "Look, Tara, the situation is bad — maybe worse than Glory bad."
"Oh, Goddess. What did Giles tell you?"
Stuffing her hands in her jeans pockets, the younger blonde explained, "Not much. He's digging through the Council library, but he was able to find an old book or something. Will's new powers are part of a prophecy."
Tara stopped and simply looked at the Slayer. "Please tell me you're joking."
"Nope. This is so not a joke-worthy event. He said the book was damaged and hard to read, but he thinks something happened when you guys brought me back. Now, Willow's all juiced up and there's a really big evil on its way here."
***
Willow's foot missed the next stair in shock at her mother's statement. "Kirstan, the Council knows who these girls are?"
"Of course." She didn't stop or turn around, simply tossing the words over shoulder. "What did your Slayer's Watcher tell you about her Calling?"
"Um, the usual...You know: 'One girl in all the world...'"
"That's it? My Goddess. It's a wonder she managed to survive this long. You, too." The ex-Slayer reached the bottom and waited for the redhead to catch up. "The Potentials are carefully watched and screened by Watchers almost from birth. If there's a Slayer in the area, they often have them begin training the girl — or girls — in how to use their eventual powers. Some of the kids won't ever be Called; they'll just grow up a little stronger and faster than most. Others are marked as Slayers in Training. Generally, the S.I.T.s don't have a choice in vocation. Drew is being allowed to decide because her magical potential is almost as strong as her Slayer potential."
Grasping Willow's hand, the older woman drew her into a large open room with a low stone alter near the far wall. Candles blazed from every surface and real torches sputtered on the walls. "Oh, hey, you have your own dungeon," the young witch said.
"Not, quite," Jennifer greeted her with a hug. "This is my Altar Room."
The younger witch asked, "Aren't you Jewish?"
Kirstan laughed and Jennifer glared at her before shaking her head. "My parents were. I'm a witch and I am also Wiccan."
Slowly putting two and two together, Willow said. "So, you took Jennifer's name." At Kirstan's wink, the young girl giggled. "I could go to City Hall and make that explanation now. How in the world did you do it, what, 20 years ago?"
Jennifer interrupted before the ex-Slayer could respond. "It's all part of the famous 'how we met' story." Turning her daughter to face the altar, she said, "Right now, we have some work to do."
Closing her eyes and swallowing against a sudden surge of nausea, Willow agreed. "Right. Sorry. What's going to happen?"
"We're throwing Kirstan out, first off. She can guard the door." The young witch felt certain the brunette would be doing double duty — keeping people out of the Altar Room and any evil forces in. "I'll cast a circle around the two of us and start incanting the spell. As you mother noted, it requires some ritual regulars like incense and chanting. But the actual search I'll do of your mind and magical pathways is very straightforward. You will need to pull all of your shields down once the circle is cast."
"OK." Willow was surprised her voice still worked.
Jennifer's voice sounded behind the younger redhead. "Can you head up the stairs, babe? Make sure the kids stay well away. And," she hesitated slightly, "don't forget the recognition signs."
"Be careful." The ex-Slayer sounded worried, but Willow heard soft footsteps leaving the chamber.
"Willow, go ahead and move to the center of the Circle," Jennifer directed.
Reluctantly opening her eyes, Willow looked around. The floor of the chamber had a stone floor. Green glass had been inset into the stone, forming a permanent circle. She walked into the center and stood, waiting.
Her mother grabbed items from a small table and joined her inside the ring. Laying the tools on the Alter, the older witch bowed her head and murmured a prayer. She moved to the glass marking the very edges of the Circle and stopped. Raising her hands she began to chant in a language Willow didn't recognize. Power shimmered along the inset design before rising in an unbroken curtain to the ceiling. Unlike the magic shielding with which the younger girl was familiar, the Circle Jennifer had cast looked solid. The young witch could not see through the waves of power surrounding her.
Motionless inside the Circle, she watched Jennifer return to the altar. The older redhead picked up a wooden bowl and an athame. Holding an item in each hand, the woman turned and paced silently toward her daughter. Stopping mere inches from Willow, Jennifer placed the bowl on the floor between their feet. Taking the younger witch's right hand, turning it palm up, she sliced effortlessly through the skin with the double-edged blade. Squeezing firmly to increase the blood flow from the wound, the older woman held Willow's hand over the wooden receptacle. The athame next marked Jennifer's palm with a quickly widening line of red. She, too, held her palm over the bowl, mixing her blood with Willow's.
Several minutes passed while Jennifer chanted and the bowl slowly filled with their offering. Finally, the older woman closed Willow's hand into a fist. She turned and went back to the altar. When she returned, she held a small leather pouch. Loosening the tie on the pouch, the older redhead, bent and picked up the bowl. She poured the contents of the bag into the bowl. Light rose from the mixture, first white, then rapidly cycling through red, blue, and green. Jennifer raised the bowl over her head and chanted with slowly increasing volume. She was shouting as she finished the incantation. A magical wind swirled around them despite there sealed, subterranean location. Squinting against the whipping air and the brightening light from the bowl, Willow realized that the light wasn't just emanating from the offering. A silver mist rose from the stone floor and wrapped around her lower legs. Every time Jennifer increased the volume of her chant, the mist rose higher. When Jennifer finished with a shouted, 'So mote it be," the mist covered the younger girl's head. The mist was bitterly cold, invading her body. Shivering, unable to see or hear, Willow screamed soundlessly as a spear of power stabbed her mind.