Gone Away

Box Of You

"Morning." Trekking slowly to the kitchen island, Willow sat in the first open stool. The night before had been long, especially with a crying Buffy at her side.

"Good morning." Dawn was making herself some breakfast when the tired redhead came into the kitchen. "Long night?" the teen pointed to the heavy, dark bags under her eyes.

"Very." She was up now, brewing a big pot of coffee. She planned on drinking it all. "What's that?" her hand pointed in the direction of a bulky cardboard box on the far end of the table.

The youngest summer's expressions fell slightly. "Oh, it's um for you. It's a bunch of Tara's stuff....we, Buffy, cleaned out her dorm a little before you got back. She didn't want...."

"It's okay," Willow interrupted with a fake smile. "I'll look at it. Thank you, Dawn."

"Yeah." the silence becoming slightly tense, Dawn took her plate into the dining room to join her sister. That left Willow alone to stare at the box with all that really belonged to Her. Was she ready? could she handle herself? there was only one way to find out.

Reaching into the box, she pulled out the first thing her fingers touched. It was small, small enough to hold in her hand. She turned it over to reveal it was the dolls eye crystal. It belonged to Tara's grandmother, before she inherited it. A small, genuine smile formed on her achingly numb lips as she remembered the time the blonde first offered her the crystal, the simpler times. Huh, any other sane person wouldn't consider times like tracking down a government experiment gone wrong before it destroyed the world simple.

The day was so clear in the former witch's Mind, it was like she was reliving it. Sitting across from her, in all her glory, was Tara. A younger Tara from when she died, the shy, socially awkward blonde that Willow first fell for. In her outstretched hands was the crystal. "I want you to have it." The blonde uttered, it obviously took a lot of courage to say. Willow, herself just wanted to say yes, and also go in for a long kiss, but that's not what happened in her memories.

The younger, pre murderer Willow had declined the generous offer, despite post-murdering Willow's arguments. However, she remembered that night she had gone to hang out with Tara again, and ended up sleeping over. They had originally planned to just do some spells, and they had, but when there was just one quiet moment gazing into each other's eyes, both witches found themselves taken completely by the other. Unable to stop themselves from connecting physically as they already were spiritually. Before either of the girls realized it, their hands were wrapped together and were inches away from touching noses.

And after that kiss, their first kiss, Willow wanted nothing more but to curl up safe and sound on Tara's chest and feel the warmth of her body against her cheek. Or the sensation of being completely loved and wanted as if she were the last of anything in the world, making her extremely valuable. And when she got her way, the next morning she had left with a huge, goofy grin on her face and the crystal safely tucked in her between her joined hands.

Those were the days. If only she could have them back, to be back there. She'd give anything. But sadly, the world didn't work that way, at least not naturally, but she was done with magic. That's what got her lover killed and that's what made her kill. There was no way she'd do any kind again. No, the only thing she had of old times were the sweet memories she relied on to keep her going each day. And now, this box of what is Tara's legacy. It's funny like that. You spend your life working hard and trying to make something worth while, but in the end what you leave behind Is what you're remembered for. Your whole life is reduced to a water damaged, cardboard box.

Willow sighed and placed the crystal down on the counter. She then directed her vision directly into the box where she noticed a small, faux-leather bound book just slightly sticking out from behind a few larger texts. Curious, she picked it up and ran her finger over the slightly used cover. She knew exactly what it was, but it wasn't Tara's, it was hers. Yes, it was the journal she started when Joyce died so she could remember life as it went by. She had only really stopped when she brought Buffy back, and when they had broken up, Tara must've grabbed it. Why she wouldn't know, but a few ideas came to mind.

She quickly flipped to the last page she had written and looked at the back. With joy she saw the careful, neat letters in Tata's handwriting. It was addressed like all the other journal entries, starting with a heading of date and time. This one was recorded just a day after their break up. The date was the clear indicator, but the small tears that lined the paper were a close second. "Oh, baby..." Willow breathed softly. "I'm sorry."

Unable to read anymore after a few entries, Willow closed the book with a loud thud and clenched it hard to her chest. It was the last way she could ever hear her lover's words and thoughts, making the thing she valued most of all.

"Will....?" Buffy appeared in the doorway.

"Hm?"

"Are you ok-" she moved forward but stopped suddenly when the room and scenery changed before her. A few kitchen supplies reorganized themselves an the lights flickered. But that wasn't the only change, only the minor ones. However there was one big change; two.

Standing before the blonde and her friend behind the counter was the living breathing woman. She wore the same outfit as when she died.

Willow almost fell out of her seat as she back up to Buffy's side, who almost fell to her knees.

"M-mom?"

"J-Joyce?" this time the slayer did fall, but Willow wasn't there to help her, for she was two inches away from her friend, passed out.

"Girls?" Joyce asked worried as she rushed to their sides. "Dear god!"

Rushing in to see what was happening, Dawn stopped abruptly the doorway, just as her sister had moment before. She heard an unfamiliar but yet familiar voice call out and had to see what happened. Then she saw her. Every thought to her brain said she was dreaming as her cheeks flushed white. "Mom?" her eyes were flooded with unsure tears. "Mom!" Joyce was soon taken back with the bear hug her youngest daughter captured her in.

"Dawn, honey are you okay? what happened?"

"Mom! it's really you! you're really here!" she only hugged tighter.

"Of course I'm me, what happened, dear?"

The teen pulled back, showing her confusion. "You mean- you don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

"Never mind!" Dawn pulled Joyce into another round of bear hugs.

"Mmm...." Buffy groaned as she started to stir out of her shocked induced nap. "Wh-what?"

Willow, however snapped up, waking abruptly from her episode. The first thing she saw was Buffy stirring gently. "Buffy, what happened?"

"I don't know will, all I remember is I had the strangest dream...mom was back."

"Where'd I go to be back?"

Buffy's eyes got as open as possible and her vision was whipped into the direction of her mother's sweet voice. "Mommy?" Like Dawn, she wasted no time and joined into the bear hugging fest. "You're here and not dead!"

"Dead?"

All Willow could hear were snuffles from both summers girls muffled into each side of their mother's shoulders. And by the affectionate mother/daughter display, she felt like an intruder. So, picking herself off of the ground, she collected the book which was on the ground and the rest of things and left the room quietly.

She arrived in her room and plopped down on the big, empty bed with the box still in her arms. She would finish looking through it later, but for now she knew what she wanted to look at. Reaching inside the box again, she pulled out the small leather book and sighed as she stroked the cover. Her eyes were trained down."Tara."

Her cheeks were growing hot and her vision slightly blurred. She was genuinely happy Joyce was back, even if it were just as confusing. She was happy for Buffy and Dawn who were struggling without her. She was happy that the kind-hearted woman was back in general. But there was this nagging feeling, a pull inside her chest. It felt to bad to even think, but being the selfish girl she knew she always was, she couldn't help but just wish. Wish that it was Tara instead.