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    You Do NOT Get to Say Her Name

    The undeniable sound of chaos filled the Summers’ home; those potentials that hadn’t retreated into themselves were yelling, crying or generally having some degree of hysterical reaction, not only to Faiths injury but also to the disappearance of their leader.


    In the comparative calm of Faiths bedroom, Willow and Tara were tending to her injuries, the worst of which being a huge blow to the head and a large gash in the top of her thigh, which they had cleaned and dressed.

    “Where did Buffy go?!” Tara asked accusingly. She didn’t expect an answer and she also failed to receive one. Pacing the room impatiently, she looked over at Willow whose head was hung in defeated acceptance as she damped Faiths brow with a cold cloth.

    Sighing inwardly, Tara closed her eyes and chastised herself for her selfishness. In her anger at being ambushed and almost throttled, she had forgotten that Buffy had been Willows friend for all of her adult life and that her lover would be just as upset and confused by her disappearance as anyone – more so even.

    “Baby?” she asked quietly as she returned to Willows side. “Are you ok?” Gently she rested her hand on Willows shoulder and squeezed softly.

    “I’m fine.” Willow replied although it was clear from her voice that she was fighting tears.

    Tara brushed Willows hair back and guided her eyes up to meet her own. “We’ll find her.” she said solemnly, “I promise you we will.”

    Willow got to her feet almost instantly and fell into Tara’s arms.

    “We need her Tara, Faith doesn’t look good, we need her if we’re going to get through this!”

    Tara nodded and held the sobbing redhead in her arms. She knew that Willow was trying to put on a brave face, trying to convince herself that she was worried more about the safety of the potentials than the possible loss of her best friend.

    Saying nothing, Tara held Willow firmly, allowing her to cry.

    “All I’m saying is that now that Buffy is gone and Faiths practically dead, we should consider a vote as to who’ll be in charge!” Kennedy yelled over the din.

    Somehow she had managed to gather everyone in the living room for a debate on leadership but it had evolved into a word riot, everyone hollering over everyone else.

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