Title: Hallowed Void
Word Count: 600
Disclaimer: I do not own these amazing characters and no profit is being made from the use of them.
Synopsis: Where were you when Buffy died? (a series of ficlets delving into the aftermath of Lilith’s resurrection)
The sweet and mildly spicy scent of basil surround Willow as she let her eyes fall closed and allowed her shoulders to roll back, welcoming the peace of mediation while Kennedy used the living room for her morning calisthenics. She blocked out the steady bass of her lover’s music as she slowed her breathing and focused all her attention, all her will on the here and now. The self-inquiry that allowed her to work and move beyond her body’s, her mind’s, own shortcomings and allow herself a perfect moment of understanding, of well being.
It was during those few moments of self regulated awareness that she came to understand her purpose, her place in this world and possibly the next. Willow understood that she wasn’t the goddess that Kennedy had once declared or a harbinger of death as the coven still feared but merely a person, a human with a more intimate tie to the world and her workings. She knew her place and that knowledge in itself was a kind of peace—the peace she had been searching for since Tara had gone.
Her heart slowed to a sluggish crawl as she sank deeper within and allowed the outside world to fade to white noise. The basil helped to sharpen her focus as she inhaled deeply and welcomed that thrumming connection that she felt to the world and as she reconnected with her surroundings another bond severed with a snap that struck her metaphysical self deeply enough to wound. Green eyes opened wide and rapidly filled with tears as Willow struggled to breathe past the pain, past the sense of death and cold that sucked at her very essence, pulling her down, pulling her away from her physical self.
A scream slipped over her mind and out of her mouth even as she struggled to fill her air with lungs. She slumped to her side, eyes still unfocused and she could feel Kennedy’s presence but not her hands as she was easily lifted and placed on their bed. The pain slipped over her, through her as if made of liquid flame. A flame that filled her up and burned her insides to ash, leaving nothing but a hallowed void waiting to be filled and it was filled, in a rush of explosive cold. A cold that was as infinite as it was destructive and within it’s embrace Willow only gained a sense of ancient power.
Her chest shuddered as that cold settled over her and as suddenly as the pain began it vanished and she was left gasping on the satin duvet. The ringing left behind by her screams faded and she was able to focus and finally hear Kennedy’s frantic whispers. “Willow, baby, tell me what’s wrong. Let me help. God, baby.”
The arms holding her tightened to just the side of painful and while her words were nearly meaningless chatter Willow used them to anchor her. Pull her free of another’s death and back to into the warmth of her lover’s embrace as tears filled her eyes, made quick tracks down her cheeks.
Kennedy’s face was buried in her hair and she relaxed, felt those soft lips pressed over and over into the crown of her hair as she stated, voice hoarse from her screams, “She’s gone.”
A hand rose to help free her hair from her damp cheeks as she asked, “Who, baby? Who’s gone? Let me help—”
“Buffy.” Her voice broke, face crumpling as the arms around her stiffened before she continued, “Buffy’s gone and there’s nothing I can do to bring her back.”