Willow tried so hard not to imagine the image of Tara lying on the floor with Dawn sitting only a few feet away, but the thought refused to leave her mind. She knew the teenager was standing beside her but her gaze didn’t move from the window. In many ways, it hurt to even look at everyone around her some days, remembering the pain and fear she had caused in them months ago.
“Why her…?” She asked, her voice sounding broken, as if every possible hope and dream inside her had been crushed and broken, like glass. “…why did she die…and not me?”
“Because life’s not fair.” It was a plain and simple answer, and the only one she could give. There was no plausible reason why Tara should have died; no reason why Tara, one of the kindest people Dawn had ever met, should have been standing exactly where a stray bullet would hit her heart, instantly killing her. But she had been, and even though it wasn’t fair, it was reality.
“When Buffy died, I… I thought the same thing. It should’ve been me, right?” In her case, it was true: Dawn’s blood had opened Glory’s portal, and it should have been hers that closed it. Not Buffy’s. Luckily, she had gotten her sister back in the end, but before that? Dawn hadn’t been able to not blame herself for weeks. “But that’s not how it works. People just… die. Not because they should… but because that’s just what happens.”
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