theredheadedwitch:

Willow didn’t want to get up just yet. It was all still hazy and hard and confusing. But she didn’t want to make Buffy mad. All she had left was her ring and Buffy. And she was being so nice about it. Why was she always so nice?

Her muscles ached as they were forced to support her weight, that spine that liked to do little a little disappearing act at the worst possible moments was forced to do its damn job and make her face Buffy. It hit her then, right when her eyes finally managed to focus on her friend’s face and what she was saying, that maybe this wasn’t the part of the story she thought it was. All this time, all this trying and fighting and here she was. She had her ring, she wasn’t nobody or nothing or worthless. Even with everything she did and screwed up she was still something people could notice. But what were they noticing? Was she still the bad guy? The monster part of the monster movie? They still had fans, sometimes people could even love them, but before you could roll the credits they had to get killed or fall into some trap they’d been making. Was she her own trap?

Willow scrunched up her face. No no no no that was wrong. Wrong answer. Everybody said. They said. They’d seen her. And even though there would never be enough “I didn’t mean to”s and “I’m sorry”s to ever fix her she’d really been starting to think until now that she could at least be good enough. Not good. You don’t kill people and blow up restaurants and take away happiness from the one person you want to give it to and unbalance the entire freaking universe and get to be good. Just, you know, just maybe good enough. She thought she could have that. But what if it was just—Faith couldn’t even touch her. How was that even in the zip code of good enough? She’d done it again.

“I screwed up,” Willow finally said, voice thick. “I screwed up again. I don’t…I didn’t mean to. Buffy, I never mean to. I was trying. I thought I was trying. But then I told Kennedy, she came up to me and I didn’t know how to get around it, and she got mad and, and she told Faith.” She sniffled again, couching more this time. It was the most alive she’d seemed in a few hours but it wasn’t regular Willow. She was crazed, desperate, making one last push for her miserable life that she didn’t even fully understand. “I tried to explain but she said there was nothing. She said there was nothing I could do a-and, and she gave me this ring a-anyways, i-it was pointing right already but…but she was still one and I can’t go after her this time. I always go after her Buffy, I bring her home, she always lets me bring her home, but…” Her mouth froze in a grimace for a moment as it began to sink in some more, “but I cant. I can’t this time.” She clenched her jaw shut, sick of crying and drooling even if she didn’t seem to be able to do anything else, and looked at Buffy square in the eye. None of it was adding up or making sense and she need someone to fill in the key for her fast.

Buffy was just trying to let it all sink in.  To comprehend what was going on, she couldn’t help unless she understood.  She wanted so badly to make it better, but she didn’t know if it was the sort of thing she could make better.  At least Willow was looking her in the eye now.  That was a start, however small.  She took a moment to process what she’d heard.  Okay, Faith was mad because Kennedy told her some horrible thing that Willow had done.  But Willow hadn’t done anything horrible in a long long while, not that Buffy knew of at least.  She was trying to be better, to fix things.  Buffy felt her brow furrow.  She probably had confused face on.  Or maybe she just looked as sad as she felt, seeing Willow’s eyes all puffy and red, her cheeks stained with tears, it tore Buffy up.  Willow was in pain, really deep pain.  But Faith had given her a ring, she seemed to be clinging to that.

Buffy looked down to Willow’s hands for just a second, to see what it was that was keeping Willow at least a little sane.  A golden Claddagh ring.  Buffy knew what that meant and it sent her stomach into knots.  There were too many of her own memories coming to the surface.  She pushed them down.  A birthday present and a holiday gift were too different things.  Willow and Faith were not she and Angel.  They’d proven that, made their choice.  Willow and Faith chose to be together, but now Faith had left her.  It didn’t make any sense, not with the ring.  Why would Faith give her the ring if she just wanted to leave her.  No, they’d gotten in a fight.  The ring must have come before that.  It was the only thing that made sense.

But there was one other thing, one more thing dawned on Buffy in those moments her eyes were down away from Willow’s.  Just rubbing her back, hoping her breathing would return to a normal rate some time soon.  Maybe Willow had done something really terrible.  So terrible that Faith had to leave.  Had she hurt Kennedy?  Sleep with her?  No.  Willow was good.  She was doing good, Buffy had seen it.  The way she tried so hard to make amends for her wrongs, the way she had started telling Buffy things again; it was all good.  She was trying to right the wrong she’d done to the universe even, looking for ways to be able to restore Faith’s soul to it’s former permanence.  Willow was good.  She hadn’t done anything terrible, but she must have done something to set her off.  And Faith had been drunk from what little Buffy saw on the internet.  That’s right.  That made sense.  Willow had done something and Faith had blown it out of proportion.  It would all be better soon, Buffy was sure.

She looked up to Willow with certainty and resolve.  Maybe she hadn’t been 100 percent right in her theory, but she was about to find out.  "What did you do Willow,“ she asked gently.  "Tell me why she’s so mad.  I’m sure it was a misunderstanding.”  She looked to Willow for an answer, softening her face so it didn’t look to expectant.  She would calm Willow down once she knew the facts, clean her up, make her feel all good about herself, and then they’d be able to work on getting Faith back.  Buffy was sure if they laid it all out she’d be able to see a path toward righting all of this.  "It’s all going to be okay, we’re gonna figure out how to fix this.“

theredheadedwitch:

She kept her eyes on the ring. It was all bright and shiny and smooth. It was the way she thought stars were before she learned how to read and found out they weren’t. That made her sad a little, even if it was cool. But lots of things made her sad. Broken crayons, stolen Barbies, giant Woostock, being alone. Okay, she still had that last one. And she could feeling coiling up in her. Still. Even with Buffy here. Willow whimpered like a kicked puppy and pressed herself deeper into Buffy’s lap.

I’m here now. It’s gonna be okay I promise. I’m here.

Willow wanted to nod. She wanted to say yes to any and everything her friend said because she was her friend and she was Buffy and she always saved her friends. She was the hero of the story. That’s how it went. And she was the hero’s best friend. She was in her hero’s lap listening to her hero’s voice tell her that everything would be okay. She promised. She promised with words.

Faith didn’t use words. And after a while, neither did Willow. Not unless she didn’t have a choice. They did things. Ovaltine and back massages, movies, that case of Harry Potter books and holding hands at just the right moment. Even having sex on their couch tasted like a promise sometimes. This is better. We’re different. Willow’s hand clutched at Buffy’s leg. She’d messed it up all over again. She’s ruined it. Stupid spells and magic and worrying and waiting. She was always left somewhere for someone else to pick up, even when she tried not to. Would they ever feel like that again? Would they get back to place where she was hopping into Faith’s boots just when she walked through the door and gave her one of those looks?

Oh god, a whole week without those looks.

But it was just a week. Just a week. She could do that. And it wasn’t like she was alone. This was the part of the story where the hero saved her. Buffy always knew what to do

“Buffy,” she whispered, sniffling. “What do I do? How…how do I get better?” That was the answer right? She wasn’t sure, and it’s not like how they told you in school where if you don’t know you just cross your fingers and answer C. And she couldn’t get it wrong. She couldn’t. One week, that’s what Faith said. And Willow—Willow had to be something worth saving, didn’t she? Something worth working at? Faith wouldn’t want to keep her, would she? And she wanted her. That’s why she gave her the ring. She wanted her. She had to. “I have to get better,” she whined. “It hurts too much…”

They just sat on that way on the porch, Willow’s head in Buffy’s lap, for a long time. She wasn’t sure how long. How long had Willow been silently burrowing into her? She didn’t know. She’d stopped herself crying long before Willow spoke. The words weren’t much more than a whisper, but Buffy heard them clear as day. She heard them and they broke her heart all over again. The fact that Faith and Willow were breaking up tasted so bitter in her mouth she wanted to spit it out. Willow said Faith made her strong, but all she could see was Faith making her weak. How could such a strong and beautiful person be reduced to this? It wasn’t right. She never would have wanted this if she’d known just how torn up Willow would be. And she wouldn’t have wanted it this way, not ever. She’d just wanted them to want what she wanted. She’d just wanted them to be mature, responsible adults. That’s all she’d wanted. She tried so hard and it didn’t seem fair that they got to be selfish when she gave up everything, lost everything, to the cause. She was aiming for solidarity, not self destruction.

She let a few moments more of silence pass between them. She had to work out in her head an answer. A way to help Willow. How could she fix this? She could feel the sweat and tears that covered her friend, all of the little hairs that liked to frizz out were plastered to her face. And she was clammy in a way that made her seem sickly. Buffy couldn’t stand it. She had to figure a way to get Willow inside. To coax enough energy into her that she might be able to at least take a shower, to get herself cleaned up. It was starting to get windy and Willow was shaking, they needed to get inside soon.

“You will get better Willow,” Buffy’s voice cracked ever so slightly. Maybe Will would be too out of it to notice. “I’ll help you get better.” She meant every word. She was going to make it right. “You need to sit up though,” She propped up the witch with ease, and tried to get her to look into her eyes. Tired to get her to be there, at least so she could figure out what was going on. She wrapped an arm around Willow’s shoulder, to let her know she was there but also to stop her from collapsing back down into a heap. Hopefully she’d be able to get Willow lucid enough to agree to head into the house, or if she didn’t want to go there, if it was too painful for her, get in the car. Get in the car so she could take her to her apartment, take her and help her get better. Something. Anything but just sitting here on the porch with her head on another planet.

“Willow, I need you to be here.” She nearly snapped her fingers in front of her face, but stopped. Even she could see that wouldn’t go over well. “Listen to me.” She tried again to make Willow’s eyes meet hers. When they did, she spoke in a slow and soothing voice. “What happened, Will? Please tell me.” She didn’t want to sound like she was begging, but she was. She was begging for her hand to be grabbed, so she could pull Willow up from the cliff edge she hung upon. “So I can help you. Please?” She tried so hard not to convey her emotion, her desperation, but she could tell that it’d be read on her face and in her voice.