Mourning My Loss:Completed!

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.


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Part 5

I go through the next week like a robot. Each day is the same, the same routine. Get up, get sick, clean up, eat something, cry, eat lunch, cry, eat dinner, and cry myself to sleep with the help of Benadryl.

I feel numb, the pain is the only thing that reminds me I’m still alive. You can’t hurt this much and be dead, the pain leaves then. I give the correct responses, react the way I’m supposed to, but I don’t feel it. I only feel the pain, I miss her so much.

*******


I’m laying on my bed, staring at the ceiling when I hear a knock on the door. “Come in,” I say without emotion. The door opens and someone walks in, they’re probably here to tell me it’s time to eat. They have to remind me, otherwise I’d forget.

The person walks across the room, and I feel them sit down next to me. “Will?” Buffy asks quietly.

“Yeah?” I answer. I guess it’s not about food, did I forget a chore or something? I guess she’ll tell me in a moment.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“I’m in mourning,” I state simply. Isn’t that self-evident?

“I know that, Willow,” she says.

“Then why are you asking?” I respond. I don’t really care, everything stopped mattering when Tara died. She looks at me, I know she is concerned.

“How long have you been sick?” she asks gently. This gets my attention, I try not to let her see though.

“What do you mean?” I ask, playing innocent. Maybe she just suspects, maybe she doesn’t know. She takes a deep breath, she doesn’t want to upset me, but she’s also made up her mind. There’s no way I can avoid this talk.

“Willow, I heard you this morning, I wasn’t spying,” she defends. “I was walking past your room and heard something, I got worried so I knocked on the door. You didn’t answer. I got really worried, Will. I opened the door to make sure you were ok. And I saw the bathroom door half open. And well, I saw you.”

Buffy pauses a minute before continuing. She’s obviously trying to figure out how to phrase whatever it is she’s gonna say. “Willow, why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

From the tone of her voice, and the fact she uses my full name, I know she’s serious. I sit there and ponder her words. She heard me, but only this morning, she doesn’t know how long it’s been going on. I debate telling her that it was just this morning, that I woke up with an upset stomach.

But that look in her face, she’s so worried, I can’t lie to her. She only wants to help. I give a sigh of defeat. “About a week I guess.”

“A week?” she chokes. “Why didn’t you tell me? Tell someone? Are you ok? Are you taking something? Do you know what’s wrong?”

Her questions are making my head hurt. I just lay there, keeping my expression the same. “Willow?” her voice cuts through my silence. “Willow? Please talk to me.” She’s almost pleading now.

“I didn’t tell you, because it doesn’t matter,” I answer in a monotone. Her eyes grow wide, she’s shocked, she doesn’t understand, no one can.

“Of course it matters,” she replies.

“No it doesn’t!” I almost shout. “It all stopped mattering the moment Tara died. Don’t you understand that? There’s no point anymore, none. I’m just a shell, I walk and talk like a person. But I’m not, I’m a shell, a robot. I’m nothing without her…” I’m crying by now, more sobs.

She wraps me up in a hug and just holds me, letting me cry my tears out. “I know it hurts, Will, I know. But you do matter, we all care about you. You do matter, you’re my best friend. Let me help you, please,” she says, her tears mingling with my own.

I just lay there, tears still wracking my body. “I don’t know what I need, Buffy. No I take that back, I need Tara. Why didn’t they let me bring her back?” I ask.

“I don’t know, Will, I really don’t know,” she answers.

“I could have brought her back,” I sob. “I could have saved her…” Buffy just holds me, knowing that’s what I need right now. I finally relax, too tired to continue.

“It’s ok, it’s gonna be ok,” she says soothingly. She tucks me into bed, making sure I’m comfy. “We’re going to make a doctors appointment for you.”

“Doctors appointment?” I whisper.

“Yeah, doctors appointment,” she replies. “We need to find out what’s making you so sick. I know part of it’s grief, but there’s something else going on here.”

I nod my head silently in agreement. She has that look on her face, the same one she sometimes gets with Dawn. Her mom look, the one she always bragged she patterned after my “resolve face”. I know better than to even try and argue with that. She seems satisfied, and tells me to get some rest.

Easier said than done, right? I just lay there, the events of the past few months playing through my head. I don’t sleep, I just lay there. Thinking of Tara.

*****

tbc...


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Blessed Be,
Sarah