TITLE: Never The Twain? (Part 10/31)
AUTHOR: Zahir
ARCHIVING: Just ask is all.
RATING: PG13 (For angst if nothing else)
COUPLES: W/T, B/R, X/Ay
SPOILERS: Through "The Replacement" with references through all of Season Five, and a few things from "Angel" as well.
NOTES: An alternate history in which Willow never finished the Soul Restoration Spell on Angelus. Differences include the fact that Tara is now a vampire. That's the big one, really.
FEEDBACK: Of course!
DISCLAIMER: I'm just playing with the toys Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy left lying around. I'll put them back where I found'em. Honest!

* * *

Willow paced. She had been researching, but now she took a break and paced.

"I should be out there helping."

"You are helping," noted Giles, not looking up from his book.

Anya did look up. "Giles is right."

"Thank you."

"Still, I should be helping find Tara."

"What good will that do without the right spell?" Both Willow and Giles had to stop and just look at Anya for saying that. They sometimes forgot how...well...logical she could be. "That is what we're doing here, right?"

Willow sat. "You're right." She cracked open another book.

"You see," said Giles, partially to soothe her, "Tara hasn't been turned back into a human being. Not really. She's still a vampire, but divided into her different components if you will. What we have to do is find a way to use this unique opportunity and create a genuine cure for her."

All three poured over books. Of necessity they had to skim, looking for clues to what might not even be possible. But they had to try. Willow realized this is where she could do the most good. Buffy and Riley were the strong ones. Xander had that military training he'd gotten a few years back. They were the ones best suited to finding Tara. Both Taras.

"But why did she run away?" Willow said that under her breath.

"Instinct." Anya piped in.

"What?"

"Instinct" Anya nodded, clearly sure of herself. "You divide someone in two, the two parts are gonna be drawn together. Its where they belong, after all."

"But..." Willow could feel her eyes growing huge again but couldn't help it. "Tara's other half is a demon! It'll kill her!" She started to rise.

Giles firmly took her wrist. "None of us is a match for Tara's demon self. Trust the others to do their job, while you do yours--making a spell to cure Tara permanently."

After hesitating, Willow sat again. Giles was right. Her place was here. Readiness was everything and all that. Even though Willow longed to run into the night, screaming the other girl's name--Tara. Her beloved. Strange that amid all the disruptions going on right now that fact--which should have been some kind of major tremor--was a steady place surrounded by earthquakes. But denying it was impossible. Willow loved Tara, even more than she'd loved Oz. Even a few days ago she'd have denied that was possible. Now it was the obvious of truths.

Her meditations were broken by the phone ringing. Giles picked it up. "Hello?" Almost immediately the man's face grew intense. Whatever he was hearing was at least not good news. Or maybe profoundly mixed. But a widening of the eyes meant he was also surprised. Only by an act of will did Willow keep from yelling for news. "Yes," said Giles at last, "I understand. We'll be over at once." He hung up and looked at both Willow and Anya.

"Tara's in the hospital. So's Riley."

* * *

Exhausted. Tara had never felt so tired. No. Not true. She'd felt almost precisely this exhausted once before. Exactly once before. But this time, as she lifted her leaden eyes, she thought to herself I must have survived.

With difficulty, she looked around her. Hospital room. A plastic bag of familiar red liquid was dripping into her arm. Her throat ached, with a barely-remembered pain. There was a man (he wore a white coat--a doctor). Young. Good looking, she supposed. He was taking her blood pressure. And now he noticed she was awake.

"Hello."

"Hi." Her voice sounded too weak to be heard. The doctor evidently did, though. He nodded in acknowledgement.

"Good to see you conscious. We were worried. Good thing we had your type on hand." From his gesture he must mean her blood type. What did that matter? She didn't care what type of blood she drank. Then she remembered. I'm not a vampire. Not anymore. But where was her other self? Did he know?

"...who...?"

"Brought you in?" She managed to nod. "Girl named Buffy Summers. She's been around here a lot, lately, what with her Mom having tests and all. You two are friends, I take it?"

"Kinda."

"What about her boyfriend? Riley?"

"What?"

"Are the two of you close?"

Odd question. "We...know each other." Why?

The doctor finished making some notes on her chart. Changing the subject, he put it away and gave a little smile. "My name's Ben, by the way. And Buffy tells me you're Tara Maclay? Is there anyone else I should be contacting? Mother? Father?"

"...no. Thank you."

"Well, I'll check in on you later. And I'll let Buffy know you're awake."

"Time?"

"Hm? Oh, its nearly midnight. You try to get some rest." And with that he left her.

Nearly midnight. Her other self was still out there. Somewhere. By concentrating, Tara dimly recalled the demonic face near hers, fangs tearing into her throat before someone calling out her name. Then, a struggle. Details, if ever she knew them, were gone. At least for now. But since she lived, clearly so to did the Vampire that until recently she'd been. And this was a public place. No need to get an invitation. Plus no discipline, no sense of self-restraint. Her Vampire--Tara knew what it, or she, wanted. To be one again. She felt it herself, not unlike a kind of emotional itch. If only it were that easy! Undistracted by anything in the dim light of her hospital room, Tara contemplated the situation with surprising ease.

Without her humanity for balance, the Vampire would run amok. It had nearly no self-control. As long as it remained at large every single human in range was in danger. For that matter, so was Tara. And should the Vampire be destroyed--a very likely event in a city where a Slayer lived--then Tara would die at the same instant.

Two solutions presented themselves. First, die. The magic worked both ways. Kill Tara, and the Vampire stops. Or--reunion. She could return to what she had been. Both possibilities were attractive in odd ways. Tara was disturbed to realize she remembered with fondness the raw power of being a demon, of walking the world as a predator. It even allowed her moments of real fulfillment, the kind of pleasures she'd nearly always denied herself. Like Harmony? With a little shudder Tara remembered that mistake. Still, the blonde girl was pretty and had been devoted, even skilled, in her way. She didn't really regret taking the ex-cheerleader to bed, just making her such a fantastically incompetent nosferatu. No less deadly for all that. And without Tara's mitigating influence--doomed as well as dangerous.

More, there was the Apostate. Her sire. Easily the most evil being she'd ever imagined meeting, yet strangely enough on the side of the angels. Not for any noble motive. The Apostate made no pretense towards virtue. He lusted for revenge against those who'd tormented him, the demons amused themselves with his torture. Until he'd escaped Hell, somehow. And she knew his plans in some sense centered on her.

But.

Willow.

She'd never actually made love before today. Tara had had sex. Even as a human she'd found that pleasure. Only a few times, and that with a fumbling fellow teenager who later moved away. Later, Tara as a vampire had managed to seduced several attractive young women. More than a couple had willingly bled themselves for her. And she'd enjoyed the favors of two vampiresses. But only with Willow had she found out why precisely it was called Making Love. And the thought of losing her--either from death (which suddenly seemed much more terrifying) or from returning to what she had been--was a horror to Tara now.

But she could see no way out.

* * *

Willow arrived at the hospital with Anya and Giles. She found Buffy in the waiting area, looking ragged.

"Buffy?" Giles managed to convey nearly every variation of How Are You in that one word.

The Slayer smiled slightly. "I'm alright. Tara and Riley are under observation."

"What happened?" Privately, Willow was please to note she didn't scream that question.

"Tara was being attacked just as we got there. Her demon--well, it's really strong. I mean, really."

"No human weaknesses," noted Anya.

"I guess so. Anyway, Riley insisted on fighting it. He got hurt. That thing bit his arm, and clawed him. But thanks to Mr. Andrenolyne he just kept going while I brought Tara here. He followed. Said he couldn't feel his wounds but I got him to let the doctor take a look."

As if on cue a good-looking young doctor approached them. "Buffy, I've got to ask you some questions."

"Go ahead."

"First," Willow couldn't hold back. "How's Tara?"

"She's fine. Got a bandage on her neck and a couple of units of blood pumped into her. The only real problem would seem to be shock, and to be honest she seems to be coping with that just fine. Are you her sister?"

"No. But I'm...we're close. Can I see her?"

"Well, that's not strictly policy. But I'll see what I can do." He turned to Buffy again. "To your knowledge, does Riley Finn take any kind of prescription medicine? Or any other type of really powerful drug, legal or otherwise?"

"No, no, and I'd bet lots of money no."

"Have you noticed any powerful mood swings of late?"

"Same answer--no. Why?" The doctor hesitated. He looked at the others around Buffy. "I don't keep secrets from my friends, Doctor."

"This may not be your secret to keep. But--Riley's wounds themselves were superficial. Little more than some deep cuts, and healing remarkably fast. But--well..."

"You said but already. That's your second but! What's wrong?"

"His heartbeat is fast, Buffy. Very fast. Reflexes are way, way above normal. A cursory glance at his blood chemistry found what I can only call oddities while x-rays revealed what seems to be an implant in his chest. Frankly, when he said he didn't feel his wounds I at first took that as nothing but bravado. Now, I'm not so sure."

Willow could see Buffy shifting into control mode. Her most basic reaction to some kinds of crisis. She swallowed. "What are you going to do?"

"More tests, at least for now."

* * *

She was here. The other one. But Tara knew better now than to simply go and attack. Some of the prey were too strong, too fast. Better to avoid them. And any other like them.

It didn't occur to Tara to try and think why she needed to find the other. Self-awareness was not something she had in abundance. But the need was there. Not as great as that of blood, but ever-present.

There had to be a way inside this building without attracting notice.

She began to search. Carefully. Very carefully.

* * *

Willow very rarely broke the rules. It was part of what made her...her. The fact that the few times she actually had broken them tended to result in crashing disasters complete with lowered real estate values and large cleanup bills only added to her natural reluctance.

But now she was most definitely Breaking The Rules.

This late at night, the hospital hallways were sparsely populated. Actually, this made things harder. No crowd or traffic with which to blend. On the plus side, the nurses on station weren't exactly super alert right now either. As long as she was quiet, and stayed to the shadows, Willow found it not too hard to sneak towards her goal.

Tara's room. More specifically, Tara.

She slid through the door as quietly as she could, her heart pounding in her ears. And not simply because of Breaking The Rules. Goddess! How did this happen? And would she change things if she could? One look at the slumbering blonde on the bed, pale and helpless, and the question became pointless.

After an eternal moment, Tara's one eye flickered open. When her gaze met Willow's it felt like a lightning strike. Then, in less than a second, Willow was beside her bed.

"Willow," her voice was weak.

"Tara," Willow breathed back. There hardly seemed a need to say more. Everything she wanted to say--you're everything to me, I love you, I'd saw off my own legs to see you smile--came out in the girl's name. Just as, to her unsurpassed and unexpected joy, her own name seemed to say the same.

Slowly, partly because she seemed so fragile, but mostly for the sake of savoring the moment, Willow reached down and placed her lips on Tara's own. Exactly who moaned at that moment she could never figure out. Nor did she care.

Even in the dim light, Tara's eye seemed to glow looking at her. How is that possible, Willow thought? That anyone should look at me like that? It was intoxicating.

"The other one is close."

At first Willow didn't know what Tara meant. Then she felt terror. "I'll get Buffy!" But Tara's hand suddenly squeezed hers. Willow stopped, puzzled. And afraid.

"You can't."

"But...why?"

Tara swallowed. Speaking obviously was costing her a lot, and seeing it ripped into Willow. She resolutely refused to let it show on her face.

"Listen." For the rest of time. And beyond. Give me the chance? "You're all in danger. And I'm going to be selfish." Willow felt another stab of fear. She could nearly feel herself bleeding, already half-certain what Tara was going to say. "There's only one way I can help protect you."

"That's not true!" Panicky, the words burst from Willow.

"Yes. Only. One. Way."

Volumes were exchanged in those few words. Every argument Willow might make was answered, every plea ruthlessly deflected. Is this what it means to have a soulmate? So we hardly even have to speak anymore? And how can I give this up? I cannot! I won't! No one can make me!

Liar. One person could.

Only one.

Eyes springing tears, Willow leaned down to kiss her Tara again. As long a kiss as she could manage. Only a small gasp from Tara brought it to an end. Tara's worried gaze aimed at the door, then at Willow again.

"Even as a demon," she said, barely audible, "I couldn't help but love you."

Willow began to sob. She locked her own eyes into Tara's one. Dimly, she heard the door behind her swing open. A barely audible growl echoed in the silence. Tara reached out with her other hand, now clasping hers in one. Out of some reserve of strength Willow never knew she'd possessed she somehow managed to speak the words.

Magic passed through them like a hot flash. She felt it like a wind that somehow reached into her organs and rocked them gently. Her entire form trembled. But the real shock came as she felt the heat leave Tara's hands, and most of the color leave her face.

* * *

The next night, Tara hid outside the Summers home and listened. Buffy was trying not to pace, under the worried gaze of her mother and sister. Willow sat in a chair, curled up yet head erect.

"I can't believe you did that." Buffy sounded full of horror, but it wasn't a focused horror. She clearly hadn't made up her mind yet. Too much going on to make clear decisions, was Tara's guess.

"What was the alternative?"

"Gee, I don't know, Wil! Maybe not turning her back into a vampire? Sounds like a plan to me!"

"Buffy..." Mrs. Summers' voice was soothing, warning. It reminded Tara in some small way of the human woman who had been her own mother.

After a pause, Willow answered. "It was either that, or kill her. They were two parts of the same person."

"She'll kill again."

"Maybe."

"Maybe? What do you mean Maybe? She's a vampire, Wil!"

"Okay, then Yes! She will kill. And so will you."

Tara could almost hear Buffy's stare at her best friend. "That's different."

"Says who? And anyway, just 'cause you're so down with the killing and the slaying and everything doesn't mean I can be. I couldn't kill her, Buffy. I just...couldn't."

Now would be a good time to leave, Tara decided. As she made her silent way, she pondered that little would be settled tonight. Or tomorrow. She was pleased in an abstract way that Buffy's boyfriend was going to be alright, even if...reduced seemed the right word. Evidently the experiments by the Initiative weren't going to have too many permanent side effects. Too bad he was a mere human again. Keeping up was going to be hard for him. Meanwhile, the Slayer and all her friends now knew a good deal more about the Apostate. He didn't seem to mind that much. Which was good. Matters were coming to a head, he'd hinted.

But now there was something between her and Willow. Truthfully, there'd been something before but now...it was more. Much more. And Tara had never felt more a freak. Vampires weren't supposed to fall for humans. It was like a wolf trying to mate with a caribou. A funny if wholly inappropriate image came unbidden to Tara's mind at that simile, but she managed to smother a giggle. Just as suddenly her mind went to memories of her day as a human. Of kisses searing hot and touches somehow deeper than skin or even bone.

Willow. By all the gods and goddesses, what was she going to do?

Her meditations were broken by the shambling figure on the sidewalk. A familiar one. Xander. Willow's best friend. But there was something wrong about the way he walked. Inching nearer, she realizing he was mumbling to himself.

"This isn't the wrong place," he was saying "I'm not supposed to be in the right or wrong place. Was I? And who turned on the stars anyway? Damn stars--always snickering, lying to the squirrels about me."

Tara suddenly knew what had happened. She headed back to her sire's lair at the best speed she could manage. The Apostate needed to know.

Glory. The nightmare was here.

TO BE CONTINUED