Author: RavenWolf

Pairing: W/T

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Tara belongs to Joss Whedon. It ain't my fault he decided to kill her.

Summary: After Tara dies, she is reincarnated, and shocked to find out what Willow's been up to.

Being dead was...different. Well, obviously. But once it had happened, there was no doubt in Tara's mind that that's what she was. This was different from blacking out, where you can still sort of feel your body, or at least know that it's there to return to. This time, she was in a cold, foggy void from which she knew there was no returning from. There were others around her, as well, but she paid them no mind.

She felt as though she were waiting in line for something. What, she wasn't sure of. She tried not to speculate, instead thinking of Willow. Her sweet, wonderful, powerful Willow. Who was now left with no one. She felt a deep sadness at that thought, but drew strength from the image of her big- hearted savior. She hadn't wanted to leave Willow alone. She hadn't wanted to leave any of them. And yet, here she was, dead. She wouldn't be getting to see Willow again any time soon.

And suddenly, there was a sensation of being sucked into another place. She gasped and opened her eyes. And...things were different. First off, she wasn' t Tara MacClay anymore. At least, her body wasn't.

She twitched her fingers, and found that her arms were thinner, her fingers longer and bonier, and she herself seemed to have become another person. She reached behind her ear, untucking a strand of...brown hair. Her hair wasn't brown. It had never been brown. So why....?

As a witch, Tara had learned to embrace the natural and accept the supernatural. So for whatever reason she was in a different body, she could adapt.

She began to take in her surroundings. It looked like Sunnydale. She became aware that she was lying on the sidewalk. She pulled herself up, tottering a little bit on new and different length legs. Strange. But definitely not the weirdest thing that had ever happened to her.

She was skinnier, she noticed as she began to walk. Not sure where she was headed, she figured she could just head for the Magic Box and wait to see what would happen. If she would wake up from this dream and be herself.

But...no. She distinctly remembered dying. At the very least she should return to being dead. At the most, Willow would resurrect her. Which, she found with surprise, was distinctly unappealing. People died. It was the natural order of things. Even Buffy had been toeing the line of unacceptable, even though she'd been killed by mystical forces. And especially after they found out that she'd been in Heaven.

If Willow brought her back, she who had been shot by a human hand, then it would be crossing the line, undisputably and irrevocably.

She turned onto the street on her left. And stopped abruptly. She could've sworn this was the way. But apparently not. She retraced her steps in her mind, and realized that she'd passed the turn. She was in the housing district. Buffy's house was somewhere around here....No, best to stick with the original plan. Get to the Magic Box and figure out what was going on.

But when she turned, she saw familiar figures heading in her direction. Xander. And Dawn. And those other two...Jonathan and Andrew? They were coming down the sidewalk. Tara stopped and waited for them to recognize her. Then realized that they couldn't, wouldn't, because she wasn't herself anymore.

"Xander?" She called weakly, forgetting to breathe when she heard their conversation.

"....how long can Anya keep up the protection spell? It's only a matter of time before Willow notices her and goes after her. And god, Xander, what if Willow kills Buffy?"

"Dawn, she won't. This is *Willow*. She wouldn't kill Buffy."

"Wouldn't she? She's sure as hell trying. She's not herself, Xander. She's someone totally else..."

They noticed Tara standing there. "Excuse me, miss. If I were you, I'd get inside. There're gangs out and stuff, you know." Xander didn't know her. They'd never been that close, but Xander didn't recognize her. And Dawn....There was no recognition. Neither of them knew her, or recognized her for who she really was. And that saddened her, to the degree that she just turned to obey.

She continued on her way to the Magic Box, her every thought for Willow. And her every thought being batted down by the part of her that wanted so much to believe in Willow.

But as she saw the burnt out remenants of the Magic Box, she realized that maybe Willow had lost it. Had gone completely over to the other side. And then she saw a fireball go careening across the sky, followed by a small blonde girl on foot, who didn't even stop to notice her. Buffy.

Her worst fears came to fruition when she saw the wreck that had once been the Magic Box. She almost didn't recognize Willow with her black hair, and black clothes. But after a moment, there could be no mistaking her.

"I thought she'd never leave," the witch was saying. "Now I've got you all to myself." Tara realized that she was speaking to Giles. Giles who was standing there, looking almost as though he might collapse at any moment. And realized that it really was too late.

She backed away, knowing that there really wasn't anything she could do. Willow had always been destined for great things. Not necessarily good, but great. And Tara had no place there now.

Tara realized after a moment that she had no place to go. She had no home anymore, no money, and no idea where she should walk to. So she sat down on a bench on the corner, struck with a morbid curiosity. She knew that it would just be painful for her to watch what Willow had become, but in a way, it was her fault anyways. Her fault for dying, for not being able to save Willow from herself before going.

She realized when the noise stopped that Willow had gone elsewhere. Presumably leaving Giles alone in the shop, seriously injured or......dead.

Again, it was her sense of compassion and not her common sense that ruled that she go in and see if he was okay. He wouldn't recognize her, but that was okay. She could just play the role of a kind stranger. Never mind that he'd been like a father to her.

She picked her way through the debris, wincing at the amount of damage Willow had done, and could still do. It chilled her to the core to think that it was her Willow that had done this. And she was ashamed to realize that if she met up with Willow, she would be afraid of her.

It wasn't just her anymore. Willow wasn't just angry and grieving about her death anymore. It'd moved beyond that. Tara had some experience with magick addiction. Her mother had a friend who'd gone through it, and ended up....gone. The magick had consumed her from the inside, like a wildfire. But something about Willow managed to keep the fire going at a steady rate, slowly burning, but giving her obscene amounts of power at the same time.

Giles was lying on the ground, unconscious. His breathing was shallow, and he looked to be in a great deal of pain, but not from any obvious physical wounds. It made Tara sick to think that Willow might have done this to him, he who had been a father to all of them.

She stood there for a moment, not sure what to do. She wasn't very well versed in medical treatments. But a moment later, there was a strange disturbance in the air, and Anya appeared.

The blonde's head immediately snapped in Tara's direction. "Hello, stranger. I'm sorry, but we're closed right now. Maybe you could come back another time? Thank you, and have a nice day!"

Then Anya proceeded to ignore her. She knelt down next to Giles, saying something to him that Tara couldn't hear. The witch backed slowly out of the shop. She obviously wasn't wanted there.

She suddenly stopped. Everything hit her at once. She'd been walking around in a daze, motivated only by the promise of a goal. But now that that was taken away, it really, really hit her. She was dead. This wasn't just some weird spell. She was dead, and had been reincarnated. For some reason, she still had all her memories, but that didn't matter. She was still dead. Somewhere, her own body was lying with a bullet hole in it, and she wasn't Tara MacClay anymore. She was someone else entirely.

She sat down hard on the sidewalk. Willow was running amok with magicks. And this was a huge relapse. Tara hated not to have faith in her, but she wasn't sure that Willow was going to come out of this one. Or, for that matter, if anyone else was. She felt like screaming, because *this couldn't be happening*. She was Tara MacClay, Tara, not this other person. She'd finally made a place for herself, and it'd been taken away, just like that. It all meant nothing. It all was...nothing.

A tear slid down her cheek, cold and surprising to her, because she hadn't known she was crying. And once she realized it, the tears came faster and harder, as she remembered all that she had to forget.

***

When she woke, she was laying on the sidewalk. There was someone leaning over her....a strange woman. She sat up immediately, feeling an ache in her spine. Her mouth tasted like cottonballs, and her eyes felt sticky. She wished she could take a shower.

"Are you okay, miss?" The woman was asking.

"What? Oh...Um, yeah. Th-thank you for asking." That infernal stutter had even followed her into this body.

"Are you sure? Do you need medical attention or anything?"

Tara was noticing that the woman was actually more of a girl. Couldn't have been any older than she was....used to be. She really wasn't sure how old her new body was.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I, um, just had a b-bad night and I must have f- fallen asleep."

"Well, okay." The girl tucked a strand of honey-blonde hair behind her ear. She frowned, as though really unsatisfied with the answer. Then the frown turned thoughtful. "Hey, don't I know you?"

Tara shook her head violently. "No! A-a-at least, I d-don't think s- so." Just what she so didn't need. A friend of this...person. Tara had never been any good at pretending to be someone she wasn't. She was who she was, and that always used to be enough.

But the girl was nodding thoughtfully. "Yeah, yeah I think I do. We used to go to school together. Remember me? Jeannie?"

Tara pulled herself together, and shook her head apologetically. "Sorry, I-I don't remember."

"That's alright. Hey, here's my phone number, if you ever want to call and get all nostalgic over old times. Call me." She scribbled on a piece of paper, handed it to Tara, and gave her a final smile and wave before heading off in another direction.

Tara shook her head in confusion, but also to clear it. She tucked the little piece of paper into her back pocket. She had no idea when she'd ever want it, but it seemed like the thing to do at the time. And if she wanted an excuse, she could always say that she didn't want to litter.

It struck her that something had happened to this girl whose body she was in. Was she dead? Had she moved to another body? It was disturbing enough that she herself was dead; she didn't need another person's death weighing her down. More guilt. She rubbed her hands on her shirt as if to wipe it from herself, but stopped, ashamed of herself. She'd earned it, so she would bear it.

She slowly turned a full circle, looking for familiar surroundings. She had no idea where she was, but fortunately, Sunnydale was a really small town, and if she just picked a direction and started walking, she'd eventually come across a familiar land mark.

She then decided that it wouldn't be necessary, because she'd realized that Buffy's house was only a few blocks away. As she had no other place to go, she figured that it would be best to just stay there a night or two, and figure some things out.

***

When she rang the doorbell, a very, very sleepy Buffy dragged herself off the couch to see who it was. Xander, maybe, or Giles. "Hello?"

"Um, hi. Buffy, I know you're not going to believe me, but I'm Tara."

Buffy blinked once, slowly. "Huh?"

"It's me. T-t-tara."

"Really? Um, okay, I guess you can come....Tara!" Buffy said, as if just realizing for the first time since she'd been told that it was actually Tara standing there. *Dead* Tara. She threw her arms around the Wiccan's neck and just held her for a moment. "Oh my god, I can't believe you're alive. You're not, y'know, you, but you're alive! You're okay!"

Tara let Buffy hang onto her and gently rubbed her back. "Yeah. I guess I'm okay."

Buffy pulled back and led her to the couch. "Willow's going to be thrilled." She said matter-of-factly, though something was obviously going on with her thoughts, because she frowned a little.

She looked at Tara, who assumed her facial expression was really quite transparent, because Buffy said, "You're not going to tell her, are you."

And in that moment, Tara made up her mind. "No. I can't. She's...she needs...I'd just complicate things."

"She really loves you, you know."

"And I love her, but....Buffy, I died. I'm dead. Tara doesn't exist anymore."

Buffy nodded. "I understand." She sat down on the couch. "So. Do you need somewhere to stay or anything? You're welcome to stay here. Dawn's asleep upstairs, and Will's living with Xander now. So you can stay in your old room for awhile...."

"No. I just came to....You've always been a good friend to me, Buffy, and I think you can empathize with me the best. I just wanted you to know that I'm okay." A tear slid down Buffy's face. She bit her lip and nodded.

"So, this is goodbye?" Tara nodded, trying not to cry. She hugged Buffy one last time, and turned and walked away. One more glimpse at the picturesque Summers' house that masked all sorts of strangeness and abnormalities, and she was gone, walking away down the street to begin her new life.

***

Tara had a working job and an apartment by the time of the funeral. It was, to say the least, strange to see your own body being lowered into the ground. The Scoobies were huddled together near the coffin, all dressed in black. They were sheltering Willow, who was having another break-down, but of the tears and sobs kind. Their backs were to her, but somehow, Buffy knew she was there.

The Slayer was bent over Willow. She stood for a moment, turned, and Tara met her eyes for a moment, before she went back to comforting her best friend. It was significant, because Tara knew that Buffy was grieving, too. They'd been good friends, and, well, she died. Buffy deserved to be left her grief as much as the rest of them did. Uncomplicated and sad. Tara wished she hadn't spoken to Buffy. But maybe it was better this way.

Tara couldn't help it. She started crying. She was dead. She was someone else, god, she didn't even know her new name yet. She was no one. Literally. She had no friends, she had no lover. She'd died, thus eliminating herself from the Scooby circle of friends.

Before Willow had introduced them, and they'd gotten closer, Tara had known what it was like to be on the outside, looking in. To see something wonderful that someone else had and not be able to share in it. But they'd accepted her. They'd been her friends. Her family. And now she was being forced to start over, and she was on the outside looking in again.

***

As the days and weeks and months passed, she watched her lover get over her. She watched Willow begin to be happy again, watched her fall in love with Xander, all the while torturing herself by staying and watching what she'd denied herself.

But when she thought about it, it really wasn't that hard of a decision. The more she said it to herself, the more she realized. It was like the end of a relationship. It hurt like hell, but she knew it was for the best. Maybe not for her, but for Willow. And maybe even for her. To all of her friends, her family, she no longer existed.

With each passing day, it became easier to look away. Easier to see Willow coming and get up and leave. She recognized the last step of getting over it, but she didn't want to do it. She dearly, dearly wanted to hang on and wallow in her misery, because it was all she knew.

But Tara was no coward. It became more and more apparent the longer she lived in Sunnydale that she needed to get out. She could get a job in L.A. But she couldn't, for any reason, stay here any longer. She was clinging, and at this rate she'd die again as an old haggard woman in her own bed, alone, still pining away for her red-headed soul mate.

Finally, she found herself ready, but not willing, to accept it and move on. The day she was moving, she passed Willow in the coffee shop. She knew that it was symbolic, and thanked the PTB for giving her this, a last chance to say goodbye. After Willow left, Tara stopped and watched her, watched her move, and knew in her heart that this would be the last time she ever saw her. She whispered softly to herself as she walked to her car, still watching Willow, "I guess I'll see you in another life, my love." And she drove away.

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