"The Price"
By Miss UK (edits/rewrites with Princess Plumjade)
Chapter Six - Acceptance
�How could you do it?�
Tara and Willow were alone now, seated side by side on the circular, red sofa in the hotel�s reception area.
�How could you do this to me?� Her voice was barely audible, tremouring with grief. In her hands she cupped an old mug filled with refrigerated pig�s blood. The metallic taste on her tongue was a constant reminder of the reality she was now faced with. She had already consumed three mugs full of the thick viscous fluid, and still she did not feel sated. Maybe she would try Spike�s trick of warming the blood first, or perhaps adding herbs. It pained her greatly to realise that she now held more in common with the bleached blood-sucker than she did the other people from Sunnydale she had considered friends
�I didn�t know what else I could do� Willow responded, in her own quiet voice. Tears still ran a glistening trail across her checks, as she sat, head lowered, with her hands fidgeting in her lap. �You were dying, Tara�.
�But you had no right to make this decision for me Willow. If I was dying, then I should have died! You can�t go around altering the natural order of things because it doesn�t quite suit you�. There was now strength in Tara�s voice. The slight stammer that was often detectable seemed to be a thing of the past. This new woman exuded confidence and determination, something witnessed in the old Tara only on the rarest of occasions.
�But it wasn�t natural was it? He shot you! He shot Buffy! Bullets aren�t natural!� Willow�s grief began to turn to rage, as the dark magic that had been her driving force reared it�s head. How could Tara be so ungrateful? �You�d be dead if it wasn�t for me.� The witch�s voice once again held that cold, dead quality it had when she had been dealing with Angel�s reluctance. She turned onyx eyes on the new fledgling vampiress beside her.
�I am dead,� was enough of a response to dispel the building force inside, and Willow reverted back to her former grief-stricken self. It didn�t matter how she tried to justify herself, Tara was right. Willow hadn�t saved her, not really.
Side by side the lovers sat like strangers, silence screaming all around them.
Angel had heard every word of this little exchange from his vantage point on the stairs. The witch�s words alternated feelings of elation and shame. He was to blame for this current state of madness and he had to keep reminding himself that it had been out of his hands. He still felt his alter ego blazing inside of him. Angelus was mightily pissed off that he was caged inside this soul-filled body, if paroled, even for a short while there was no telling what he would have done. Cordelia certainly wouldn�t be sleeping soundly in her apartment with phantom Dennis. The demon craved her almost as much as the man.
The heavy-hearted vampire once again retreated into the shadows, making his way to the privacy of his own room.
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Chapter 7: "Old Friends Revisited"
"The Price" Contents
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