❝what rushes into my heart and my skull❞

[guiltapalooza]

Characters Willow (guiltapalooza) and you! OPEN.
Setting: The second floor hall.
Format: Action tags.
Warnings: Mentions of violent death.
Summary: A few days after her death, Willow still hasn't gotten her magic back, but this time it isn't the tower's fault. (Also includes a thread for immediately after her resurrection to log with Eridan.) There will be opportunity later to violently harass her, I promise, but for now friendlies only, please?

[Her heart is in her throat, loudly enough that she'd almost think anyone nearby could hear it and know she was there. But she'd been holing up in Eridan's room for a couple days now, ever since she'd come back to life, and at some point she needed to leave. She needed food, for one thing, and for another she had to sleep in her own bed soon or she'd start going crazy.

Her magic still hadn't come back, and it terrified her. Nothing worked. No amount of meditation, prayer, or supplication, no spell she'd tried could coax it out. Magic was what Willow defined herself by, the thing that gave her any amount of self-confidence; without it, she wasn't anything. She was almost useless, just that dumb little girl in high school who'd chased after Buffy and Xander like a pathetic puppy, desperate for attention and approval. She may have committed mistake after mistake with her magic, may have done some undeniably terrible, awful things, but it gave her power. It made her someone.

Not that she regretted helping Eridan. But she'd made a lot of enemies here, and she knew they wouldn't balk at taking the chance to tear her apart while she was defenseless. She just had to hold out. It was temporary -- had to be temporary.

She peeks her head tentatively outside the door, and starts to slowly edge into the hallway. Any of her previous cheer from last week has been drained from her completely, and left behind is a wan, blank-faced girl.]


(for wwaterboy)
[The sleep paralysis is worse than she'd given it credit for. The first time she'd woken up here, she'd been freaked and scared, sure; but now, the ten minutes last forever, her mind replaying endlessly what had happened. Her breathing is uneven with grief, tears sliding from her eyes and down her cheeks even as she can't move.

The second feeling returns, she lurches out of bed, half-stumbling and half-racing out the door and down to his room. She has to see for herself, or she won't be able to believe it. There's always a first time for someone to not come back.]

Comments

[guiltapalooza]

[She was sure John would react that way-- he's so much like the rest of her friends already, she figured that part would be the same, too-- but it's still a relief to hear it. She exhales, because the hard part's over, the part where she has to admit what happened. Just... go eat now.]

Thank you, [she says softly, and joins him on the way over to the stairs.] I'm trying not to freak out. I don't think I'm doing too well at it.

[A bit of wry self-castigation in there, because Willow really does get tired of being overemotional all the time.]

[windykind]

[John isn't quite clueless enough to not realize the implications of taking her hand here, so he just kind of reaches out and holds her by the arm, watching her face intently for any sign that he should let go.] ...Is this okay?

[guiltapalooza]

[She's not up to her usual liveliness, but she gives him a smile anyway, sincere regardless of how tired it is.] Of course it's okay.

[Willow has always been physically affectionate with her friends, even the male ones. She doesn't have a second thought about it before she shifts so that their arms are linked, and something about the childish gesture makes her relax. It's a piece of normality in an utterly surreal, nightmarish sequence of days.]

You're just fine, John.

[windykind]

[Oh, he knows the feels, Willow. So he lets you change position so they're linked together like they're just about to start prancing through a meadow of happiness and butterflies. Of course, they're just going to go down to the cafeteria, but don't tell him that. She's smiling now, and even though she looks totally shot, it's better than how she was a few minutes ago. Just like that, he's smiling back.] Okay.

Do you want to take the elevator? [It would be easier to just wait in the elevator, but he doesn't want to invoke any bouts of random claustrophobia.]

[guiltapalooza]

[That's why she likes you, John. One of the big reasons at least. You just smile right back and let her get her daily recommended dose of friendliness in.]

Elevator is probably a good idea. Until I get my magic back, being out in the open is giving me the wiggins. [There's a trace of fragility to Willow as she is right now, but it's self-induced. She's scared, sure, can't help but keep replaying in her head how useless her magic had been when she and Eridan had gotten killed, but she's very far from broken. She knows how to keep herself together in times like this, at least enough to do what she needs to. She'd done it all summer after Buffy had died.]

[windykind]

[He tries.]

Okay. [So they walk down the staircase that leads to dormitory floor 1, and then into the elevator. And just like that, pchooooo, they're in the cafeteria! It's a little more awkward now that everyone can see them, but John is determined to hold onto Willow no matter what.]

[guiltapalooza]

[Even if she weren't in the state she's in, Willow frankly couldn't care less what anyone thought of her running around holding someone's arm. She'd done it all the time at home, and she'd do it here. Friends helped each other, and sometimes it was touchy-feely help, and it was just the way it worked for her.

Right now especially she's not thinking about it, because the cafeteria is where it'd all happened. She tightens her grip on him.] Can we-- eat in the kitchen? Please?

[windykind]

Sure. [He nods, eschewing the cafeteria tables as he leads her towards the back door to the kitchen.] Do you want to cook some food, or should I get it from the line?

[guiltapalooza]

No cooking. Definitely no cooking. I've been trying to figure out what to do, how to-- to get it back, but nothing's working. So I kind of... put off eating, and now I'm way overdue.

[And the lack of magic is really what's driving her to distraction and lack of appetite, much more than anything else. She's a bit dazed as they enter the kitchen, but she's not totally lost, trying to force herself not to think about it.]

[windykind]

That's fine. [Actually, it works out better; the only thing he can cook is bakery fare. He gestures in the direction of a chair surrounding the only dining table in the kitchen, a small round thing that would seat four at the most.] Uh... that means I need to go get things from the other room. Can you sit here by yourself or do you want to come?

[guiltapalooza]

[She drops into a chair and rubs at her face, trying to push herself out of her funk a little.]

Me and life-changing crises are well acquainted. I'll be fine on my own. [Maybe not fine exactly, but she won't have a meltdown or anything, she's sure.]

[windykind]

[John nods and goes back into the other room, glancing at her as he leaves. Fortunately, at this time of day the queue is virtually nonexistent, so he comes back shortly afterward with two trays of food. One is set in front of Willow, the other in front of his own seat.] The choices are kind of limited, so I tried to vary what I could.

[guiltapalooza]

[She gives him another weak smile as she tugs her tray toward her.]

Whatever it is is fine. Thanks, John. I'm... really glad I ran into you. Or you ran into me.

[windykind]

You're welcome. [And Willow receives a 100% Egderp-certified award winning goofgrin as he sits down in the chair next to hers.] Well, dig in.

[guiltapalooza]

[She eats slowly, because honestly by now she's lost her appetite again, and her stomach can't handle too much after a few days of mostly ignoring it. She forces herself to get something down anyway, not wanting to add eating to her currently substantially long list of problems.]

Have you been doing anything? Hopefully not getting killed and losing the wind thing? [It's a weak attempt at lighter conversation, but she's trying.]

[windykind]

No, the windy thing is still there. [Otherwise why would he offer to protect Willow?] Uh... well, my birthday is coming up soon! I'm not sure what I want to do about it, though.

[guiltapalooza]

[She doesn't think he'd actually have lost it, she was just... making an ironic comment about her own situation. Yeah.]

Oh, um, how old are you turning? I'll have to find you something for a present. Tower or no tower.

[windykind]

Fourteen! ...But no, no, don't get me a present. I mean, the choices are kind of limited, don't you think? [He would go into detail -- 'Oh, gee, maybe I can get him some nice blood from the screaming-and-handprints floor' and the like -- but considering her current state of mind, it probably wouldn't be the best idea.]

[guiltapalooza]

I'll come up with something. It'll be a good distraction. Birthdays... a lot more on the cheerier side.

[She stares glumly down at her food. By now she's starting to adjust to her situation, and is sliding swiftly down into a pit of moping.]

[windykind]

Well, okay. [He notices her vacant staring, and leans forward over the table, lowering his head to the tabletop so he can still match Willow's look.] Come on! Nothing has been permanent so far. You'll get it back soon.

[guiltapalooza]

[She starts when he mirrors her, and then looks at him guiltily. She's self-aware enough to realize that she should be trying to cheer herself up and get out of this, but Willow can't quite manage it.]

I better. I have to. I... I don't want to go back to being that useless girl that has to get saved every time something attacks me. I know you've never been a useless girl, but trust me, it's not fun and it's basically embarrassing to even think about.

[windykind]

But you won't be useless. You can learn back all of your magic if it doesn't come back on its own. And I bet there are a lot of people in this tower who know how to use weapons; you could pick something up from them. It... it sucks being useless, it sucks being too late. But you're not useless. You got this far, right? If you keep looking forward you can find a way to protect yourself again! And maybe even get back at those tower guys, too.

[guiltapalooza]

I don't want to learn just any way, [she protests, not really upset at him but upset at her loss.] Magic is... It makes the world different-- I can feel things, I can feel everything if I want to.

I don't even like fighting! But magic is part of me, it took me years to learn everything that I know. You don't just wake up one day without an arm for no reason, only it happened, they took it away.

[windykind]

[Alas, the ways of the female mind are lost on John, and Willow seems to be an especially baffling case. He... doesn't really know anything about magic, either. She would have to ask Rose about that. He nods; it would be like losing a sense -- a sixth sense. Like losing an arm. (Wasn't there someone in the tower with one arm? He can't remember.) He... well, he hasn't really had anything he had for years, not like her. Before the game happened, he would have died if an imp attacked him, he had no training in anything at all; no swords, no guns, no magic like the others had. It hadn't been that big a part of his life. But Willow... well, they've already been over how much older she is than him.]

[He hadn't thought about it from her perspective, not until now. His focus had been on keeping her okay, not letting her get too deep into it... but he had tried to help her and now he got met with this. He now realizes how rare these kinds of Willowthoughts really are. It's kind of scary, in the same way that it's scary when you realize that your parents actually have social lives or that they are human beings and can die by the hand of a rabid black dog deity just like everybody else.]

So... I'm sorry, Willow, I'm sorry, but... you said that you didn't want to be useless anymore. And... and if you don't go out and do something about this... then...

[He doesn't even have the heart to finish that sentence.]

[guiltapalooza]

It's not your fault, but y-you don't get it. I can't do anything else.

[She braces her elbows on the table on either side of her plate and covers her face with her hands, forcibly stopping herself from crying in front of him. When she speaks again, her voice is muffled but still audible, and utterly blank and hopeless.] This is the only thing I've ever done that wasn't hit people with-- with garbage cans and run away screaming and-- it's still not good enough.

I still have to watch the people I love die.

[It's all getting tangled up in her head, the loss of her magic and her lack of self-worth and having to see Eridan die and her dying herself, that visceral memory of whipcrack pain. The combination of it all at once is overwhelming her, and she tries to breathe, to shuffle it away, but it's so much.]