❝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 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.]

doop doop, repeat ALL the icons!

[windykind]

[...]

[There's nothing he can do for her now. Even John Misses-Social-Competence-Cues-Like-A-Fly-Ball Egbert can see that. No amount of encouraging speeches will get her out of this one, because you know what? She's probably been running on encouraging speeches for far too long, and it's finally breaking down. So John takes a deep breath, and as she moves to melt into a puddle of sads in her seat, he stands up and gives her a hug from the side. A good hug, the kind where you run your hand through the other's hair and everything. It's what his dad always did for him when he got like this -- and heavens knew he got like this -- so passing it on to Willow seemed like the only reasonable thing.]

i guess i can't thread with you anymore

[guiltapalooza]

[It's one of those moments where the second you get some sympathy, you can't take it anymore and you fall apart completely. Because Willow has been running on encouraging speeches for a long time, since before she got here but especially since then. She has to build up all of her relationships from scratch, has to be the hero when she's the sidekick and never wanted that. She's so tired of being alone and of being the adult, the one that has to save instead of be saved.

She turns and cries into his shoulder, her hands coming up to clutch at his sleeves weakly. She's a silent crier and always has been, and right at this moment she doesn't even know which part of her life she's crying for.]

ghfkghjjfk nonono I was talking about me ;A;

[windykind]

[Oh yeah, mission accomplished. ...Well, not really. Mission started is more like it. Everyone needs to stop and take a breather every once in a while, and it seems that Willow hasn't been doing a lot of this. It's been a front, a front which he realizes (with some guilt) that he's been kind of a part of. Everyone's a person, including Willow, and everyone has those moments where all they need is an Egderp to hug them and not trust himself to speak.]

[Does it matter what part of your life she's crying for? It could be all of it, or none of it. That's just how feelings work. And right now, she deserves every ounce of silent crying she can get, so he just takes her hand with one arm and keeps his hug around her with the other. There are... no words now. No words could do her justice. It's the best he can do, and he'll stand here all day if Willow needs him to.]

HAHA i knew that!! XD it's an unforgivable offense tbh

[guiltapalooza]

[It takes a while for her to recover herself at all, long moments where she can't stop crying. She'd cried on Eridan at some point, sure, but it was a give-and-take there, a trading of who was strong from moment to moment, and she hadn't let it out completely. Eventually she sniffles into his shirt and draws back enough to talk again, tears streaked down her face and still crying intermittently.]

I'm sorry, you're-- you're being so nice and I'm crying all over you. I was trying so hard not to. [It's not really helping her case that she didn't need a good cry, but Willow's so flooded with irrational guilt right now that she can't think clearly.]

grumble grumble hiss

[windykind]

[It always kills him to see people cry. Always. Even if it's someone he doesn't even know, a complete stranger, there's just something about it that grabs his heart and doesn't let go. Even so, he knows that it's a necessary part of life; you need to let it out once in a while. He can't call Willow responsible for everything that's happened in the Tower and in her old world, so he won't call her responsible for not keeping a tight enough rein on her emotions.]

Why? Everyone needs to do it, and it's safe here. Don't apologize. [His voice is gentle; the normal energy coursing through it has been brought down to a simmer. And he doesn't let go of Willow, either. He throws her what he hopes is a confident, forgiving smile.]

[guiltapalooza]

Because I didn't want to make you deal with it. [But she relents, knowing her reasoning is illogical and unhelpful. How gentle and patient he's being, and unfailingly supportive, is basically exactly what she needs right now. Willow takes her napkin and wipes off her face, a bit drained but better. Nothing's fixed, but maybe she can deal with it at least a little instead of hiding and collapsing and not eating.]

Doing all of this without Buffy is so hard, every time. [There's some self-consciousness there, and sadness of a quieter, more long standing sort.] I'm used to being part of a team, you know? Sure we have to face some impossible things, but it's... with everyone. Only everyone's not here, and I've been trying to do it all on my own.