Mourning My Loss:Completed!
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › FemmeSlash - Female/Female › Tara/Willow
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
16
Views:
3,817
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › FemmeSlash - Female/Female › Tara/Willow
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
16
Views:
3,817
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Mourning My Loss: Chapter 1
Mourning My Loss
By: Oracle Of Magic
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the BTVS characters, they are the property of Joss Whedon, and Mutant Enemy productions. No copyright infringement is intended. I am writing this story purely for enjoyment.
Rating: R. for language and adult themes.
Summary: This fic is set after the end of season 6, but before the beginning of season 7. Willow was treated in the US for what she did, and is now back at Buffy’s house trying to deal with the pain of losing Tara.
Spoilers: Up through the end of season 6, and all the previous seasons.
Dedication: I am dedicating this story to my sister Lorin. I know you have been through some tough times, and this story is about overcoming the odds, which you have done. And unconditional love, which is what I have for you, sis. I love and accept you just the way you are, always will. For all those reasons, this story is for you sis.
Note: This entire fic is written in Willow’s POV. I forgot to mention that earlier. I hope this clarifies things some.
Special Thanks: To my husband Bert, for giving my the courage to write this. And to all the other people on “The Kitten The Witch & The Bad Wardrobe”. Special thanks to Mike for the encouragement. And finally, special thanks to David, my dear friend, muse, and beta. Thank you my friend, you are truly a great friend, and writer.
Part 1
I’m in mourning, of course I don’t feel good. It’s only natural, it’s only been two months, two months since she was taken from me. No I can’t start to cry, I have the day to get through, and if I start, I don’t know when I’ll stop. It’s supposed to hurt like this, everyone tells me that, it always hurts when you lose someone you love.
The mental pain is so bad I squeeze my eyes shut and try to send it away. I’ve ended up curled into a ball in the corner, banging my head against the wall. Maybe I can transfer it to physical pain, at least there’s something I can take for that.
She died in my arms, she was standing there, then a gunshot, and a splotch of red appeared on her shirt. She said something, she was so surprised, then she fell. I raced over and tried to help, but it was too late, she died in my arms. Her blood seeping onto my clothes, she looked at me as she took her last breath.
I can see it so clearly, I can feel it, it’s like I’m back there again. I can smell the blood, taste it in my mouth, feel the tears stinging as they start to flow down my cheeks. My stomach lurches. Oh fuck, not now, not again.
I grab my stomach, trying to hold down the contents. I can’t give in, I can’t. The blood, oh god the blood. Her eyes looking up at me in an eternal lifeless stare. The images are too much, I can’t take it.
I race to the bathroom and fall to my knees, my stomach heaving up it’s contents. I can’t take this much longer, my throat is burning, I can’t breathe. Finally I start dry heaving, there’s nothing left.
My body is shaking, I fall back against the tub, trying not to pass out. I lay there half propped up against the tub, one hand on my stomach, the other on my head. My head is swirling in darkness, it’s threatening to consume me. My stomach is aching, not just from being sick, but from something deeper. The loss.
I struggle forward and flush the toilet. I stand up and grip the counter for balance. I need all the balance I can get right now. I start to splash water on my face, and light some incense to cover the evidence of my body betraying me.
I continue splashing water on my face, hoping the cold sting will divert my tattered mind. I look at the mirror, trying to get myself presentable at least. Finally deciding I look okay, I walk out into my room.
I tug off my shirt and pull out a clean one, tossing the old one on an ever growing pile of laundry. Then I notice something out of the corner of my eye. It’s a picture of us at the park, it was taken just a few months before she was taken from me. Back when I was Willow, not this burnt out shell.
The images of the last few days we had together, and the images of her death. The fact her life drained away, in this very room prove too much for me. I start to cry, the sobs wracking my body. I slowly sink to the ground, crying out my very soul. “Tara, why did they take you from me?”
***
TBC...
So, whatcha think? Please let me know, as I said earlier, this is my first W/T fic, to be truthful my first f/f pairing. I would really appriciate any comments or feeback.
By: Oracle Of Magic
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the BTVS characters, they are the property of Joss Whedon, and Mutant Enemy productions. No copyright infringement is intended. I am writing this story purely for enjoyment.
Rating: R. for language and adult themes.
Summary: This fic is set after the end of season 6, but before the beginning of season 7. Willow was treated in the US for what she did, and is now back at Buffy’s house trying to deal with the pain of losing Tara.
Spoilers: Up through the end of season 6, and all the previous seasons.
Dedication: I am dedicating this story to my sister Lorin. I know you have been through some tough times, and this story is about overcoming the odds, which you have done. And unconditional love, which is what I have for you, sis. I love and accept you just the way you are, always will. For all those reasons, this story is for you sis.
Note: This entire fic is written in Willow’s POV. I forgot to mention that earlier. I hope this clarifies things some.
Special Thanks: To my husband Bert, for giving my the courage to write this. And to all the other people on “The Kitten The Witch & The Bad Wardrobe”. Special thanks to Mike for the encouragement. And finally, special thanks to David, my dear friend, muse, and beta. Thank you my friend, you are truly a great friend, and writer.
Part 1
I’m in mourning, of course I don’t feel good. It’s only natural, it’s only been two months, two months since she was taken from me. No I can’t start to cry, I have the day to get through, and if I start, I don’t know when I’ll stop. It’s supposed to hurt like this, everyone tells me that, it always hurts when you lose someone you love.
The mental pain is so bad I squeeze my eyes shut and try to send it away. I’ve ended up curled into a ball in the corner, banging my head against the wall. Maybe I can transfer it to physical pain, at least there’s something I can take for that.
She died in my arms, she was standing there, then a gunshot, and a splotch of red appeared on her shirt. She said something, she was so surprised, then she fell. I raced over and tried to help, but it was too late, she died in my arms. Her blood seeping onto my clothes, she looked at me as she took her last breath.
I can see it so clearly, I can feel it, it’s like I’m back there again. I can smell the blood, taste it in my mouth, feel the tears stinging as they start to flow down my cheeks. My stomach lurches. Oh fuck, not now, not again.
I grab my stomach, trying to hold down the contents. I can’t give in, I can’t. The blood, oh god the blood. Her eyes looking up at me in an eternal lifeless stare. The images are too much, I can’t take it.
I race to the bathroom and fall to my knees, my stomach heaving up it’s contents. I can’t take this much longer, my throat is burning, I can’t breathe. Finally I start dry heaving, there’s nothing left.
My body is shaking, I fall back against the tub, trying not to pass out. I lay there half propped up against the tub, one hand on my stomach, the other on my head. My head is swirling in darkness, it’s threatening to consume me. My stomach is aching, not just from being sick, but from something deeper. The loss.
I struggle forward and flush the toilet. I stand up and grip the counter for balance. I need all the balance I can get right now. I start to splash water on my face, and light some incense to cover the evidence of my body betraying me.
I continue splashing water on my face, hoping the cold sting will divert my tattered mind. I look at the mirror, trying to get myself presentable at least. Finally deciding I look okay, I walk out into my room.
I tug off my shirt and pull out a clean one, tossing the old one on an ever growing pile of laundry. Then I notice something out of the corner of my eye. It’s a picture of us at the park, it was taken just a few months before she was taken from me. Back when I was Willow, not this burnt out shell.
The images of the last few days we had together, and the images of her death. The fact her life drained away, in this very room prove too much for me. I start to cry, the sobs wracking my body. I slowly sink to the ground, crying out my very soul. “Tara, why did they take you from me?”
***
TBC...
So, whatcha think? Please let me know, as I said earlier, this is my first W/T fic, to be truthful my first f/f pairing. I would really appriciate any comments or feeback.