Ghost
by sailor80
2
[reviews]
For the next two weeks, Willow marked time in small intervals. Buffy's fever was alarmingly high for four days, and Buffy was completely unresponsive to her. During the first four hours, Willow called a friend who was both a witch and a doctor, and put an IV line in Buffy's left hand. She taped the hand to a small block of wood to keep the needle from moving around as Buffy shifted, and waited impatiently for the drugs her friend ordered to be delivered. Once everything was in place, Willow went to another room and let herself cry. After that, she moved restlessly between her office and her bedroom, returning each time Buffy cried out.
Buffy's dreams while she was sick were a disjointed combination of memory and fear. The few times she woke, she didn't know where she was, only that it had to be all right because she was surrounded by Willow, and she drifted away again without saying anything. After her fever broke, Buffy was exhausted and spent most of her time sleeping. Willow woke her to eat and bathe. The IV line came out after a week, when Willow was certain that Buffy would eat and drink enough to keep her alive. They didn't talk during this period, and Willow didn't sleep much. When Buffy woke at night, Willow was there, propped up and stroking Buffy's hair.
Willow kept the house warmer than she liked because Buffy was always cold, dressed in layers and layers and almost always holding a mug of something hot, even if it was only water. She began to eat more, if only to get Willow to stop nagging her about it. Buffy decided she hated being sick. She felt like she had during the cruci-test thingy on her 18th birthday, when Giles had stripped her of her powers. Every part of her ached, and she was so weak that walking from one place to another wore her out. She was grateful that Willow didn't crowd her, although she was always aware when Willow checked on her, even under the pretense of needing something at the other end of the house.
When she was well enough to sleep alone, Buffy left Willow's bed and moved into the room Willow set aside for her. Buffy liked her room. It was calm and peaceful in there, and the bed was comfortable. It was a good place to think, and the photos made her reminisce about her family. She still had no desire to see them, to face the gaping maw of their need for her. Facing Willow was hard enough, and Buffy had a hard time keeping her memories of Willow separate from her fantasies. Willow was different, but underneath, she was still the same girl who looked up at Buffy and asked whether Buffy wanted her to move from the bench in the high school courtyard. Sure, she was a little darker, but all of them were; there was no way not to be after thousands of nights staring down evil, be it supernatural or human.
Buffy knew that she and Willow had hours and hours of talking to do, and she hated the thought of it. Talking with Willow had been the easiest thing in her life for so long, and it had become the hardest since Warren murdered Tara. Willow still thought about Tara, Buffy knew. Willow had brought some of Tara's things along in her flight from the Hellmouth. There were photos that included the other witch in both bedrooms, and Buffy was certain that Willow had a treasure box somewhere with the doll's eye crystal and probably a few other things. Buffy had nothing like that from any of her ex-lovers. She had left the claddagh ring from Angel on the floor of his mansion, and the few things she had received from the others were abandoned long before the last showdown in Sunnydale.
It was easy to live with Willow. They were both comfortable with silence, and Willow waited for Buffy to be healthier before they tried to have the hard conversations they both knew were ahead. They took turns with cooking and household chores, and as Buffy regained her energy, she spent time in the gym. Sometimes Willow came and watched, as she had so often watched Buffy's workouts when they were younger. This time, though, there was no homework, no studying, just Buffy sweating and panting and Willow watching, noting each day's small improvements.
Once a week, Willow left the house to go to the nearest town to pick up her mail, run errands and stock up on groceries. As Buffy felt better, her appetite returned, and she ate prodigious quantities of food. Willow was happy to see it and happy to fill two carts with things that Buffy liked and a few that she tolerated. Thanksgiving approached, and they decided to do the turkey thing, together for the first time since their first year in college, when Chumash spirits attacked them and Xander was sick with every plague the Europeans brought with them.
While food cooked, Willow persuaded Buffy to call Cleveland and talk with everyone for at least a few minutes. It was clear to Willow that Buffy didn't want to talk to them, or think about them, and that Buffy would find a way to make her pay for those few minutes of her time. Dawn answered, and their conversation was easy, and the phone got passed to Giles, then Xander, and finally Faith, who told Buffy, "You better be gettin' in shape, cause I'm comin' down there to kick your ass from one side of Kansas to the other."
"Sorry about that," Buffy said, smiling.
"You're not sorry, and quit smirkin'. That was your freebie, B."
Buffy laughed bitterly. "Uh huh."
"Go eat your turkey. And don't make me come lookin' for you."
"I'll be right here." Buffy handed the phone to Willow and left the room. She heard Willow's conversations without listening to them, able to tell by her tone who she was speaking with.
When Willow finished her call, she found Buffy in the kitchen, sitting at the table with her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. Buffy looked up at her. "You're going to make me do that at Christmas, aren't you?"
"Yeah."
"I hate talking to them."
"Why, Buffy? They love you. They miss you. Well, maybe not Faith so much, but Dawn and Xander and Giles."
"Stop it, Willow."
"Stop what?" Willow's forehead contracted into confusion.
Buffy sighed and stared into her mug. "Sorry," she said softly.
Willow pulled a chair close to Buffy and sat in it. She put her hand on Buffy's forearm. "Why won't you let us love you?"
Buffy didn't answer. Willow felt her muscles tense and wondered what was coming.
"Buffy," Willow prompted.
Buffy let go of her mug and got up. She headed for the basement. Willow followed her to the gym, where Buffy got onto the stationary bike and started a steady pace. Willow asked her again, "Why won't you let us love you?"
Buffy closed her eyes and came to a stop. Images flitted across her eyelids, Merrick, Ford, Jesse, Jenny Calendar, every one of her classmates at graduation, dead children in the park, her mother on the sofa, Tara in a pool of blood on the upstairs carpet. "Because I'll kill you," she said finally, and got off the bike.
"You haven't. You can't." Willow reached out and caught Buffy's arm as she tried to pass her.
"Willow," Buffy pleaded.
Willow tugged on Buffy's arm and took a step forward. She wrapped her arms around Buffy. "We're here because of you." She stroked Buffy's hair, still rough and unevenly cut. Buffy stood stiffly, permitting Willow to hold her. She felt Willow's hands on her back and despite the layers of clothing, it felt like she was touching bare skin. Buffy wasn't sure whether that would be better or worse.
Willow continued to hold Buffy loosely, hoping the blonde would relax. It took nearly a minute before Buffy unfroze, and 30 seconds after that for her to put her arms around Willow's waist and rest her chin on her shoulder. They didn't talk, didn't move except for the regular motion of Willow's hand on Buffy's hair. Buffy ended the embrace suddenly, stepping away from Willow and sprinting upstairs.
Willow closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was a start, what just happened between them, but they both needed so much more from each other. Willow believed that Buffy knew that, even if she wasn't ready to admit it. Willow counted to 20, then went upstairs. She was surprised to find Buffy at the kitchen table again.
They ate early and cleaned up, and went to opposite ends of the house. Buffy went from one piece of equipment to the next while she recalled every Thanksgiving with her mother and Dawn, their small rituals. The last one, during her senior year, before the Council's test, was the best. The last one together was the worst. Joyce was sick and Dawn was an enormous pain in the ass and Buffy burned the turkey so they had peanut butter sandwiches. Buffy didn't realize she was crying as she remembered that, and the Christmas that followed, and her birthday, nearly forgotten in the turmoil around Joyce and Dawn.
Buffy stopped what she was doing and leaned on the wall. She slid down it seconds later, as her legs refused to support her. She curled around her legs, bawling for all that she had lost. Willow was there within a minute, unable to leave Buffy alone when she was so distressed. Willow touched her gently and made soothing noises, and Buffy threw herself at the witch so hard it knocked both of them off balance, but Willow didn't let her go.
When she stopped crying, Buffy made no attempt to move away from Willow.
"What was that, sweetie?"
Buffy closed her eyes and inhaled a deep, uneven breath. "Thinking about Mom," she said.
"I miss her, too."
"Can we just go to bed?"
"Sure." Willow waited for Buffy to move off of her.
Buffy got to her feet easily and held out her hand for Willow. She didn't let go when Willow was up, but waited for Willow to lead her away.
In Willow's room, they took off their shoes and got under the blankets. Buffy didn't ask to snuggle up to Willow. She threw one leg across Willow's and rested her head on Willow's chest. Willow wrapped her arms around Buffy and waited. She didn't want to push Buffy any further than she had.
Buffy didn't disappoint her. After a few minutes, she began talking about her life with Joyce before they moved to Sunnydale, before she was the Chosen One, when she was just another vapid adolescent concerned only with appearances. Willow listened intently and didn't interrupt, and after nearly an hour, Buffy talked herself to sleep. Willow kissed her head and closed her eyes and wondered yet again how they would get through this.
In the morning, Buffy seemed better. When Willow woke, she smelled coffee, and beside the coffee pot was a note from Buffy that she was in the basement and would be up for lunch. Buffy smiled when she came upstairs shortly after noon, and went to take a quick shower before joining Willow in the kitchen. That night, and every night after, when she was ready sleep, she joined Willow in her bed and curled around her.
A week and half before Christmas, Buffy asked to use Willow's computer, and Willow gave her a laptop to keep Buffy out of her work area. Buffy spent hours shopping online, choosing gifts for Dawn, Giles, Xander, and Faith. She couldn't think of anything for Willow, no matter how hard she looked.
They didn't bring in a tree or decorate, and Willow skipped the Chanukah ritual. The only reason Buffy knew it was Christmas was that Willow dialed the phone and handed it to her, and sat nearby while she talked with each of her family in turn. Willow, who talked to them weekly, was brief. She hung up the phone and they sat on the couch and looked at each other.
"I tried to find something for you, Will, but nothing seemed right."
Willow smiled. "You don't have to get me anything, Buffy. I'm happy that you're here."
"Are you really?"
Willow nodded, the smile leaving her face. "I missed you so much. It was worse than being in England, because then, well, I knew I'd be coming home some day, and you'd be there, even if you hated me. But here, you didn't come and you didn't call or write and the only way I knew you were even alive, well, I knew you were alive, but Faith would track you down and then she'd call me and lie about how you were doing."
"Breathe, Willow."
"I thought you'd just find me once you got your feet under you."
"I'll let you know when that happens," Buffy answered with a small smile.
"Why did it take so long, Buffy?"
Buffy looked away and took a deep breath. She looked back at Willow. "You sure you want to hear this?"
Willow nodded.
"I, just, I hated you, Will. You brought me back to Sunnydale and for what?" She twisted her hands, the only sign of her turmoil. "You brought me back and you just fucking ignored me. I know now that you were sick, getting sick with the magicks, but. You. Just. Left. Me. Alone. With a sister who was almost as crazy as I was and a huge pile of bills and the house falling apart around me. I'm still mad at you for that sometimes."
Buffy got up, and began to roam the room, then stopped and turned to look at Willow. "I thought things couldn't get any worse, but they always can, huh? And then you left me. Physically. I understand, but I needed you, and all summer I wanted to talk to you and Giles kept putting me off. He told me they didn't even let you have a computer there, so there was no way to contact you. And then when you came home," Buffy trailed off, remembering the shadow of her best friend. That was the only time she had thought of Willow as weak or frail, when she returned from England. "We didn't know how to talk to each other. I still don't know how."
"Just like this," Willow said softly.
"I hated you so much, Will, and I needed you even more, and now, I don't even know how to feel anything."
"That's not true, Buffy." Willow got up and crossed the room. She stood in Buffy's personal space. "Do you want to feel?" she asked huskily.
Buffy closed her eyes, remembering their last time together. Her breath hitched and she wondered why Willow always affected her so deeply.
"Do you?" Willow asked.
Both of them knew Willow was asking more than it seemed, and Buffy kept her eyes closed while she pondered what to do. Willow's nearness, not a new thing, caused long dormant nerve endings to awaken, and when Buffy inhaled, she was dizzy with Willow. It would be easy to give in to her, but would it be the right thing? Buffy opened her eyes and looked at Willow, standing so close to her. She was different, and the same, and Buffy knew that to say yes now would start into motion events that could never be undone.
"Yes," she whispered, and her world exploded at the first touch of Willow's lips, so soft and gentle on her own. She realized she was crying again and didn't understand why. "Willow?"
"Right here, baby." Willow put one arm around Buffy and wiped her tears away with the other hand.
"Don't leave."
"I promise." Willow kissed Buffy's neck just below her ear. "You either."
"Can't. Oh, god."
"Let it go." Willow said and pulled Buffy's head to her shoulder. Buffy turned into Willow's neck and inhaled deeply.
Things happened quickly after that, too quickly for Buffy to recall them in an orderly fashion later. Willow backed her up against the wall and held her there with frenzied kisses while they removed some of their clothing. Willow's hands were everywhere, but her mouth stayed on Buffy's. They left a trail of clothing through the house, removing the last bits before they climbed back into Willow's bed.