towerofanimus | ❝what you waiting for?❞

Entry tags:

❝what you waiting for?❞

Characters Willow (

guiltapalooza), Dualscar (

orphans) and eventually Link (

ocariness). Also a separate thread with Eridan (

wwaterboy). CLOSED.
Setting: Floor 35, the lake.
Format: Action tags.
Warnings: Some serious violence up in here, most likely.
Summary: Willow can't hide forever, and eventually she gets found by someone she really doesn't want to get found by. One day later, she recovers in the infirmary, and finally says goodbye to Tara.

[It's probably hopeless, but Willow can't get herself to stop trying. She needs her magic back, can't stay this mousy, useless girl anymore. It's been too long, longer than she'd ever imagined, and she's getting desperate.

Desperation, as it turns out, is not very helpful for meditating. She's trying a new location, sitting cross-legged on the grass at the edge of the lake, not far from the stairwell. Her eyes are closed, and she's trying to concentrate. But panic is starting to well in her, because nothing is happening. Nothing.]

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[dualscar's had a rough couple of days. or nights, rather, as a complete lack of sleep will do to someone. as one typically plagued by nightmares, the punishments administered aren't completely foreign to his psyche. but these were different, as they felt so real; the worst, is that the nightmare seemed no longer just an illusion of the mind.

thus his avoidance of something he felt unable to defeat. she'll likely see him before he her, haggared in appearance and perhaps slightly more.. unhinged than usual. what's most obvious, however, is his complete lack of weaponry. that alone should be enough of a hint that he's not precisely all there.

but as he steps down the stairs, boots treading rather loudly, he somehow still manages to hold his head high.]

[Willow reflexively opens her eyes when she hears someone, aware that she could be interrupted, and at first she doesn't even notice the lack of weapons. There's an instinctual oh crap, oh crap reaction, and she jerks back, falling to brace herself on her hands behind her. Her heart jumps to her throat; she's more aware than ever, so mind-numbingly aware, that she's completely helpless. She feels sixteen years old and facing Angelus again, looking in her room and finding her dead fish in a delicate envelope on her bed, the knowledge that he could kill her whenever he wanted looming in her mind.

It's such an extreme reaction because Willow was already feeling desperate to start with. But he doesn't know that she doesn't have any power right now, right? Yeah. She can bluff this, totally.

But it's obvious that something's up with her as she scrambles to her feet and keeps her distance with none of her usual bravado. She can't manage words yet, knows that they would shake, so she just stares and listens to her heartbeat pick up speed in her veins.]

[he notices, all right. but then again, he feels that's what anyone should do in his presence. but for somewhat that seemed to have been so sure of herself previously, it does raise some questions. then questions always come later for him.

he isn't sure if this is a fortunate encounter for him or not. he's already decided it's either he dies or she does— there's no room for mercy here. he manages to smile crookedly at her, though as usual, there's nothing friendly to it as he closes the distance between them. he could at least attempt to keep up appearance of being well.

there's a lake, he happens to note. maybe he could drown her.]

Hello.

[surely, magical or not, she should know what's to come.]

[If what's to come is her getting grievously injured, she has that suspicion.]

Hi, [she answers back warily, clutching her arms around herself as if that would help. She wants to be nervously backing up toward the stairs, just get out of here as fast as possible, that would be best-- but of course he's between her and them. So she's stuck with her bluffing, not something she's ever in her life been any good at.

Willow belatedly notices just then that he's looking rather ragged and worse for the wear, and notably unarmed. Despite her fear, that has her frowning in suspicion.] What happened to you? You look like you lost a fight with a sword-stealing poodle.

[The next day, Willow is laid up in the infirmary, which is an experience she hasn't had in a while. Actually, she's never been in the tower infirmary as a patient at all; but of course back in Sunnydale she's been put in the hospital several times, none of them fun memories. There's an associated feeling of helplessness and death that's hard to shake.

But today she doesn't have to shake it, because she doesn't feel it at all. She feels... oddly at peace with herself, for someone wrapped in bandages and bleeding from several places. She didn't have her magic still, but she'd survived. Someone else had saved her. Willow had spent this whole time putting so much pressure on herself to accomplish things she wasn't sure she could accomplish, not without going to the darkness, and it'd all been fine without any magic at all. For a given value of fine, but hey, this counted as fine for a Scooby.

Eridan's here with her, visiting. They'd just been sitting quietly, out of things to say and basking in the company instead, but now an urge comes over her. She squeezes his hand gently to get his attention.]

Hey, [she says softly.] Could you do me a favor? [It's strange, but she looks calmer and less frantic than she has since she got killed.]

[wrong thing to say. granted, there never really is anything 'right' to say to him, but he's pretty sure a sword-stealing poodle is meant to be an insult. whatever that is. plus, being from someone who's wronged him before... his reaction is nigh instantaneous, in which he pulls back his arm to swing a strong right hook at her face.

if not dodged, enjoy both that velocity and ridiculous amount of rings.]

[Willow is not any good at dodging in a physical fight, at least not without a lot of warning, and she takes the hit full on. She stumbles back, gasping, hands coming up to cradle her cheek. Bright red blood seeps between her fingers and into her hair. Aside from the force of the blow, the rings cut through her skin, and it hurts like hell.

But if she has any chance of getting out of here intact, she knows she has to keep pretending. Her heart's still pounding a mile a minute in fear, but she looks up at him through her mussed, bloody red-orange hair, and hardens her expression.]

I'll give you that one for free, [she bluffs, trying to imagine this is Andrew, just dumb Andrew who could be intimidated with a wrong word. But it isn't.] You better get out of here now before I change my mind.

Edited 2012-05-09 01:10 (UTC)

[At first, when Eridan found out that his matesprit was in the hospital, Eridan had been frantic. It had taken Willow quite a bit of time to calm him down, and he still is somewhat on alert, ready to do anything she needs in a flash, if it will make her feel more comfortable or cause her attacker to die a horrible, horrible death.

He still hasn't decided what to do about Dualscar. On the one hand, he's his ancestor, a man whom Eridan has worshipped for sweeps, and whom Eridan is petrified of, besides. But on the other hand, he hurt Willow. And Willow is the only one Eridan has left.

For now, though, that question can wait. He perks up, as if going to attention]

A course. Anything. Wwhat do you need?

[There's a moment where she just thinks about how much she loves him, and brings his hand up to kiss the back of it, which is maybe a feminine gesture but one that she can't help.]

Can you help me up to the meadow? There's... something I need to do.

[her words cause him to hesitate a moment. he flexes his fingers as he considers her warning— true, perhaps. he knew her to be a witch, but things weren't adding up here, and it wasn't as if she'd ever given him anything for "free" before. not the kindly type with villains. and the wretched site of her blood was enough to set him on edge, coupled with the inherent need for more.

indeed. words come later.

that, and he'd come to value his life less in his place. if she were to kill him now, he'd only know apparent reprieve before consciousness were to return once more. and then the cycle would repeat. his thoughts give her perhaps a few seconds to recover, but not long after her last syllable, she has the same fist flying to her stomach; this time with a bit more force, taking the the angle in account.]

Are you okay to movve? [Eridan rises to his feet, worry etched on his face and in the quivering of his fins]

Good enough. We can take the elevator most of the way. I won't take long.

[She shifts carefully and swings her legs over off the edge of the bed, using his hand in hers to stabilize herself. She doesn't want to make him worry, she hates doing that-- but she doesn't want to wait. It's time. It's finally time.]

[Without her magic Willow is back to being just a girl, a normal human with nothing remarkable to her. She's not even athletic; she runs away, she lets other people save her, she hits them with objects when she can manage it.

It's pitiful how little she can do against him now, a short, cut-off scream before she loses her breath and stumbles back, coughing. It hurts, the pain consumes her mind, she can't do anything but try to keep backing up shakily. She needs distance, she needs something, but the lake is behind her and that's the opposite of an advantage.]

[He watches her with close attention, but doesn't do more than hold her hand. He's ready to catch her if she falls, but if she can walk, she can walk.]

Tired a the healing block? I wwouldn't blame you. I sure got on to some caliginous feelins about this place by the time I got out of it last time.

Not exactly. I don't hate hospitals or anything. Do you mind if I... tell you afterwards?

[Aside from not wanting him to feel like he's being compared to Tara every second of the day, this is something personal and private for her. Willow wants to say goodbye, on her own. Since Tara's grave isn't here, is something she might never see again, she has to make do with the next best thing.

She does manage to walk, her legs thankfully not seriously injured, though the steps are delicate and uncertain. They make their way over to the door without too much fuss, and not too slowly, Willow holding her other, splinted hand close to her body so it doesn't get knocked.]

Oh, a course, Wwill. Wwhatevver you wwant.

[He paps her hand, smiling and helps her as they walk, keeping his pace slow and watching in case she falters.]

[She smiles back, reserved and introspective still but managing to smile a lot more naturally than she had been before.] Have I told you lately that you are a sweetheart?

[Willow pays careful attention to her walking, and they make it to the elevator without incident.]

No, but you can go ahead an say it wwhenevver you like. [He grins, continuing to follow along at her pace, not rushing her]

Maybe I haven't been saying it often enough. Cause you are. [As she talks, they step into the elevator and she presses the button for their floor, barely looking away from him long enough to do that.]

Sweet, and caring, and... I'm just really lucky.

[He gives her a kiss on the lips, his fins spreading with contentment to show the purple webbing between the spines]

[She's happy to kiss him back, slow and sentimental, until the elevator dings and they're at their floor.

As they leave the elevator and go out into the meadow, her mind returns to the reason she came up here. Kissing had been a nice distraction, but she needs to get this done.]

Can you... stay back here? Just for a few minutes while I go over there. [Nodding a small ways out into the grass.]

[He blinks, confused, but nods readily and stops] Are you okay to wwalk ovver there?

I can manage. [She leans in to give him one last kiss on the cheek, and turns to go out into the grass, leaving him behind.]

[And he watches, confused and a little worried, wondering what's going on]

[From the outside, it doesn't look like she's doing much. Willow carefully wobbles her way out far enough to have an approximation of privacy, so that she's visible but inaudible to him. There's certain things she needs to say.

There's no grave here, so this will have to do. She slowly sinks down onto her knees, hands out to stabilize her on the ground, trying not to tear her injuries open. The grass is long and yellow, picturesque, and it and the breeze are warm on her skin. It's strange and comforting and so much like Earth.

It's not hard, to picture Tara out here. To imagine her loving this place. It's why Willow's been drawn here since the first day it appeared.]

Hey, sweetie, [she says softly, hardly more than a whisper. A smile comes over her face, and a few tears leak from her eyes, but she doesn't move to wipe them away.] I wanted to talk to you. I... I miss you. I'm sure you know that-- you probably look down at me and wonder what I'm doing, wasting all this time thinking about you when I have so much else. You always wanted me to be strong.

I... haven't been doing so good at that. I've hurt people. [Silence for a few long moments.] Hurt them like I promised I wouldn't, ever again. I don't know who I am, whether it's that awkward, weak girl who met Buffy, or the woman who almost got Dawnie killed. Who took away your memory whenever I wanted to. Who tortured Warren. [She lists off her sins, and as she says them, she releases them into the air. Lets them drift into the sky, this implausible, fake sky.

Willow closes her eyes against the tower, and imagines her there with her.]

I'm not either of them. I'm just me. And I miss you-- I do, I miss you so much. [Her voice starts to choke, caught on a suppressed sob.] I miss the way you'd smile at me, and sing for me, and tell me when I was wrong. I even miss the stupid things like your hair and getting to order your tea for you. I love you every day, will love you every day, until I die and after that and-- and forever. But I don't need to just be strong for you, do I? It's funny how long it's taken me to see this.

You want me to be strong for me. You always have.

[She takes a long breath in, and holds it. Feels her blood thrum in her ears, and slowly, still crying, lets it out.]

I'm saying goodbye. You've been waiting for me to say goodbye all this time. Waiting to rest. It's okay, baby, I'm okay now. I can take care of myself. You can go.

[She doesn't need magic, she doesn't need Tara, she doesn't need anyone but herself. She can trust herself, finally, and though it's precious and tenuous, a bird resting on her finger about to fly off with the wrong breath, Willow can see it there. It's all come together for her in the last day, inexplicably. But she can't be graceful about all of it, she just can't; she starts to cry in earnest, ugly and cathartic, and repeats,] You can go.

[Her hand raises, outstretched as if to touch, and very faintly... it starts to glow gold. Her magic comes back, in that moment where she remembers how to trust herself, and the relief and joy counterpoints her loss. It's a balance, it's everything Tara had tried to teach her, and Willow is ready to see it for herself. She stays there like that for several minutes, letting the light grow stronger, inhale by inhale. Her roiling emotions gradually seep away. It's like the world is leveling out beneath her.

Eventually when she's exhausted, it fades again, and she climbs to her feet, and walks back to Eridan. Tear-streaked and empty and calm.]

[When Eridan sees her crying, he begins to move towards her. But before he can get there, interrupt whatever she's doing that is obviously distressing her so much, he sees the magic.

So when she gets up, he's standing about halfway to her, looking awkward and uncertain and worried]

Wwhat...did you do?

[She manages a smile for him, though she's worn out both physically and emotionally, and immediately comes up to take his hand.]

Just settling some things with myself. [But he must need more of an explanation than that-- she really doesn't want to be so vague.] The reason my magic wasn't working all this time is... well, I was afraid of myself. And I'm not, anymore. I'm not sure how to explain it.

[He doesn't really understand, but he lifts a hand and wipes away a stray tear from her cheek.]

You don't havve to be afraid a yourself, Wwill. I keep tellin' you.

[She's sure she's not making any sense to him, and though it's relatively personal, and private, she tries to do a little better. She sidles up closer to him and leans some of her weight on him, completely tired out.]

Yeah, but it's hard to believe. Some of the things that I did... and almost did. They were my fault, and regret is pretty powerful.

[He reaches out and paps her cheek, then leans in to kiss her on the lips]

But if you knoww you did bad, you wwon't do it again. I believve in you, Wwill. You're the best fuckin' person there is. It's normal to havve a dark side, too.

It doesn't feel normal. But honestly, it's... not the part where I hurt someone that deserves it. Cause-- they do, sometimes. I know that. [And that had taken its own time to admit, to come to terms with the fact that Willow does have a dark, embittered streak. She wasn't a Disney princess who thought anyone could be redeemed. They couldn't, always.]

That still scares me, but it's where I don't know where I'll stop. When Tara thought I was going too far, I took her memory away. I made her forget she ever doubted me. That wasn't something I did in the heat of the moment-- I decided to do that, Eridan. And I could do it again, any time I felt like it, to you or to anyone else. I could reach in and twist your feelings to be what I wanted them to be.

It's just... a lot of power to have. I have to trust myself.

[Eridan's eyes widen. That's a bad thing to ever have to worry about, and he has to swallow and almost physically shove the paranoia away.]

You'vve nevver done anythin' like that to me, though, right? I mean, sure, you'vve got a lot a powwer, an maybe you'vve done things you regret, like I said before. But you wwouldn't do that to me.

No! [she protests immediately, squeezing his hand tighter in refusal. She has to push down some hurt that he'd doubt her at all, but this is what she was trying to prove, wasn't it?] No, never. Of course not. I don't want to do it to anyone, least of all you.

I just wanted you to know why I get so freaked out about this sometimes. But I really do think I'll be okay now.

[He shifts closer and pulls her into a tight hug] I knoww it. An I trust you, don't evver doubt it, Wwill.

[She swallows, feeling vaguely ashamed that she'd have been hurt by his very real concern when she knew that he did trust her, and hugs tightly back.]

I know. You've been keeping me together for months. I don't know if I could've done this without you.

Wwell you knoww you'vve been doin' the same thing for me! [He squeezes and tugs her towards the stairs] Noww, you should rest in a horizontal type a position.

[She follows along, starting to feel all of the exertion and leaning her weight on him more heavily.]

Um... yeah, you know what, that'd probably be a good thing. I think I'm going to pass out the second I hit the bed, to be honest. [That was maybe too much too fast, but she couldn't really regret it.]

Wwell, it's a good thing you'vve got me to help you along, then. [He gives her a nuzzle, supporting her weight easily]

You're a sweetie. My sweetie.

[And she follows him back down to the infirmary floor, nuzzling and PDAs the whole way.]

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❝what you waiting for?❞

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