Chapter 2—No Turning Back

Stretched to the point of no turning back—Pink Floyd, "Learning to Fly"


“She’s in some hell dimension, and now you’re second-guessing it? What, you want to leave her there longer? What kind of friends are you?”

Willow’s voice was strident with her displeasure, and she glared at the other three co-conspirators. Tara tried to talk, but her nervous stutter hindered her, just like always. “W-willow, Giles s-said…”

“Giles doesn’t think that I can do this. But I can, you all know I can! I really helped when she was fighting Glory. I helped you, Tara, gave you your mind back. I can do this!”

“Willow, we don’t doubt that you can do this. It’s just—well, should we? Anya and Tara mapped out all the demon dimensions, and they couldn’t find any trace of Buffy. What makes you think that we’ll succeed?” Xander looked at the flushed redhead, and wondered if this was the best idea. They had talked about it, but then suddenly Willow had this whole spell in the works before they’d had a chance to make a decision together.

“Because we need her. That’s why we’re doing it and why we’ll succeed, because Buffy is needed here. Not lost or stuck in hell. Here, with us, the people who love her.”

Tara thought of Dawn, and how long it had been since any of them checked on her. They knew that Spike was there, but she still felt guilty for dumping all the responsibility of the house and Dawn on him. She kept her thoughts to herself, and wondered what happened to Willow to make her so sure of herself.

“I’m still waiting to hear from that guy on Ebay. We’re in negotiations for the urn of Osiris, but he isn’t giving in.” Anya looked at her nails, and said off-handedly, “I’m trying to get him to throw in some worthless collectible as a bonus. He should capitulate, for the price I’m offering.”

Willow paced, raking her fingers through her hair. “It has to be soon. We can’t keep covering things up with the Buffybot. Someone is going to find out about—that she’s gone, and then we’ll have Social Services to deal with and all kinds of hoorah to pay. We have to do this as soon as we get the urn in our hands.”

Xander stood, and put his arms around her shoulders. “We will. We have to wait just a little while longer.”

He and Anya escorted them to the door, the Scoobies meeting over. Anya leaned against the door, and sighed.

“Willow just can’t get over herself, can she?”

Xander shot her a warning look, but she blithely went on. “She thinks that because she was able to do all those other spells, this one will be a piece of cake. Doesn’t she know how much power this type of spell requires? It won’t be the big easy like she thinks it will.”

“Ahn, enough for tonight. My head is already spinning. I just want to crawl in bed.”

Anya smiled. She knew how to keep him from spinning, and right now, she thought he needed to be shown.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tara couldn’t sleep.

She lay in the bed next to Willow, worries of all kinds flying around her head, and could not dismiss them for the life of her.

Willow had been driven all summer long to try and find a spell to resurrect Buffy. She brought home books of every manner of arcane knowledge, and hid some of them from Tara, which was unnerving. If they weren’t of the black magic variety, why would she hide them? Tara had only found them by accident, but she didn’t dare open them, fearful of the aura surrounding the books and the pettiness that had seemed to infect her girlfriend.

She knew that she should be grateful that Willow had given her back her sanity, but she was also afraid. Afraid that it gave her too much confidence. Tara knew that Willow possessed greater power than she did, but she also knew that power of that sort couldn’t be used selfishly for personal reasons. Somehow, that’s what she felt this resurrection to be—personal. Willow missed her best friend, and she would bring her back just to make her own pain stop.

Tara turned over, and felt her girlfriend snuggle up against her back. She moved slightly, breaking the contact, and felt guilty for it. She just didn’t want her to touch her like that, not right now.

Something inside Willow was…off. Her aura was muddied and dark, and just looking at her set alarms off inside Tara’s mind, but when she tried to speak to Will, she’d shut her down. She had even been so angry with Tara that one night Tara watched her eyes turn black.

It terrified her.

Her girlfriend was turning into someone, or something, that Tara didn’t know anymore. Willow was even starting to use her magic for mundane tasks like cooking and changing clothes. Cleaning became a magic trick too, as Tara watched dishes wash themselves and a broom sweeping the kitchen floor one night. When she said something to Willow, she blew Tara off, saying, “if I can get it done faster that way, I’ll have more time to spend with you, baby.”

Instead, it allowed her more time to spend with her head buried in spell books, and Tara fretted.

When she cast a simple contentment enchantment on a neighbor’s baby that was colicky all night, Tara went through the roof.

“Willow, you can’t just magick the baby’s pain away! It’s not right! The baby—“

“God, Tara, chill! The baby isn’t in pain anymore, the mom’s happy, and we can get some sleep for one night. It’s not a big deal.”

But it was a big deal. Tara saw Willow getting more engrossed in magicks too dark to ignore, and went to Xander and Anya.

“I don’t see how we can stop her. If she buys the supplies at the Magic Box, we can see how many and how much experimenting she’s doing. Plus, why not let me have her money? She’ll just get it somewhere else.” Anya was nothing, if not practical.

Xander rolled his eyes at Anya, but said, “As much as I hate to admit it, Tara, Ahn’s right. We can keep a closer eye on her if she buys her stuff from the Magic Box.”

When Tara found bags and boxes from other stores, she knew that belief had failed.

She lay awake at night, praying to the Goddess that Willow would see where her path was leading, and vowed to set an example. Tears rolled silently from her eyes as she mouthed incantations of protection for herself and her friends as she tried to sleep. She could feel the malignancy of Willow’s actions growing, but could find no solution to the danger except try not to get caught in it herself. If it came to a battle, Tara wasn’t sure she would win.

Willow snuggled closer, and Tara cringed on the edge of the bed, finally getting up and moving to the couch in the living room. She couldn’t stand for her to touch her. It made her think of dead things, crawling things, and the dark, itchy place that Glory had thrust her mind in. It made her think of revulsion and fear, and she had to get away.

In her once-beloved’s face, she saw a gaping, grinning skull.




A/N: Forgot to mention this here last night--for background on the song, and it's personal meaning to me, go check out my LJ--http://www.livejournal.com/users/spikespetslayer/8374.html#cutid1 --Thanks for all the wonderful comments(!)--Confused Muse, Tasha, Sue, ZoeGrace, slaymesoftly, Richard, Kat, spuffylovingjess, Ariel Dawn, and MarzBar--You don't know how much I appreciate them and how much they feed my soul.