“Puts everything in a whole new perspective, huh?”
“Just a little bit, yeah. It’s kinda fitting, though– - y’know, like, supernatural town, supernatural school; WHY NOT throw in a vampire-fighting principal, too?”
Listening carefully to each and every word, Tara could hardly stop herself from rushing over and embracing the teenager in a hug. The last months had been taxing for all of them, with Glory clearly refusing to give an inch of ground to any of them until she found her Key. Buffy’s birthday had been the moment, however, that had finally pushed everything toppling over the edge. Even now, Tara could see Dawn’s arm, the red color of the girl’s blood a sight she wouldn’t wish upon anyone. Whether or not the cuts on the teen’s arm had healed yet, she didn’t know, but she hoped they had. The memory of it alone was something she was sure would continue to haunt her to the end of her days.
“Sweetie…you are real…” She started, picking saying her words carefully, not wanting to make Dawn feel any worse than she no doubt already did.. It was moments like this that made Tara wish that the ever present stutter that constantly haunted her speech would simply disappear, if only to make her comforting words sound a little less forced. “…y-you’re just as real as m-me…”
“But I’m not! I was never even born. All those journals, I never wrote them. I’m only SIX MONTHS OLD, Tara!”
She instinctively buried her face in Tara’s shoulder, clinging to the kindhearted woman as tightly a she could. Even now, when she finally knew that everything about her was fabricated (her mother, her sister, the Scoobies’ love; she hadn’t earned any of it), she still clung to Tara as if she was her only lifeline. How could it all be fake? How could the monks do this to her– it– - whatever she really was?
It was hardto keep her composure when her sister’s hand covered her own, everything she feared becoming so much more tangible in that moment. Her own inability to deal with the loss was only the beginning, as were the many arrangements that yet had to be made for the funeral as their futures. Her biggest fear was not being able to take care of Dawn as she should be taken care of. How could she ever do everything their mom had done for them when she still felt like a kid herself half of the time? What if she failed to protect Dawn or couldn’t keep her happy and safe? Giles would be so much better at this.
“I have to run into town tomorrow, take care of some things. If you want, I can drop it off. It’s good to keep busy now.”
“That sounds good. Just try not to lose it, okay?”
She tried to smile, to lighten the mood even by just the smallest bit, but her expression faltered and dimmed before it could make a difference. It was obvious even to her that her sister was doing worse than her - she really had been ever since the day she found Mom’s body. Dawn didn’t know what was the right thing to do about that, but she couldn’t leave Buffy alone to wallow, so she finally gathered together her courage and brought up the one thing they had both been avoiding mentioning for so long now.
“Buffy, do you… do you wanna talk about it? What we’re gonna do now… without Mom?”
The enthusiasm is certainly appreciated; Yitz hopes the girl is still enthusiastic after she sees the show. She turns her attention to a nearby shelf which holds what looks (and smells) like different sorts of herbs and things.
“Do you work here?”
“Oh, uh, no– - but the owners are my friends, so I can totally help you out if you need anything.”
Dawn trailed off, blue eyes focused on shaking hands. It wasn’t that she wanted to hurt Tara’s feelings, but… she wasn’t REAL. She was a key, a thing, made up by a bunch of monks. Everything she thought she knew, all of her life before six months ago, was a lie. It hadn’t existed.She hadn’t existed.
How could any of them really love her, now that they knew that?
“I’m not real. How can you love something that’s not real?”
She melts quickly into the hug Dawn had given her. Making her feel like everything would be okay, that she hadn’t lost Dawn because of this. Sure Tara still blamed herself, after all, shouldn’t she have seen the signs? Shouldn’t she have been a little harder on Willow, a little persistant with her? She felt like she didn’t try to help Willow, but instead ignored it. She didn’t mean to not tell Dawn, she just didn’t want the young woman to hate Willow, that was just Tara though, she didn’t want Willow to get blamed for it.
“I know you didn’t, sweetie. This isn’t your fault. You thought I was up and leaving you, its understandable. But I’m not leaving you Dawn, you and I can still hang out, okay? Whenever you need me, I’ll be there. I just…I cannot stay here.”
“Yeah, okay. We can do that. …Can we maybe hang out soon, though?”
Even if she understands now, it doesn’t mean she wants Tara to go. Ever since her Mom died, Tara’s been the closest thing to a mother for her, and she doesn’t want to lose that - not now, not ever. She can’t handle losing that, so now she’s going to make sure Tara stays in her life, regardless of whatever Willow did or thinks of the matter.
she stealthily plucks a pepperoni from dawn’s slice and plops it in her mouth before offering her sister a wink. manicured digits reach out, taking the tape and sliding it into the vcr above the television set.
❛ you know, i think the love of clueless might be the only thing the monks took from me to make you. ❜
She doesn’t bother trying to protest as Buffy steals from her food– - instead, she only offers a smirk in response. Because really, if she’s gonna try to tease her, then she should remember that two can play at this game.
“Y’know, I’ve always found that whole ‘made me from you’ thing really weird. I mean, does that make you my mom? And - eww, that would make Mom my grandma!”
