Summary: In a moment of tragedy, some of Willow's loved ones watch and wait.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters portrayed here, they remain the property of their respective owners/creators.

Rating: PG-13, for themes.

Time Frame: The last moment of "Seeing Red." (spoilers).

Archiving: Be my guest, but e-mail me ( and let me know. . .I like to know where stuff I write ends up and I might want to see what else you've got.


We wait.

We watch. We fear. We love. We mourn.

We remember.

We remember a bright eyed girl, raising her hand and asking a question that would do honor to a graduate student in that discipline. We remember looking over her shoulder as she focuses the full power of an extraordinary mind to the purpose of saving the world. We remember standing shoulder to shoulder with her as the minions of hell stalked us, confronting us with almost certain death. We remember being plucked from the grasp of oblivion by a plan conceived by her and executed by one who should be our sworn enemy, and who eventually will end our life. We remember how she struggled to balance loyalty with respect and affection after tragedy struck. We remember how she risked her life to make sure our last gift to Buffy was delivered, no matter what the cost to all involved.

We remember a blossoming young woman who was like a sister to our daughter from almost the first day they met. We remember the anguish on her face in a moment of tragedy, of which the true significance would not be known to us for months. We remember her comforting voice, as we dealt with Buffy's disappearance, and her joy at Buffy's return. We remember a friend who made a point of visiting us whenever she could, even as the expanding horizons of her life took her farther away from us. We remember how she stood by our daughters of flesh and circumstance, as the cruel hand of fate deprived them both of their mother.

We remember our first sight of her: the challenge of authority, the vibrancy of spirit, the beauty that could not be hidden. We remember nights of glorious magic, and longing, and hope. We remember a doused candle, and joy, and triumph. We remember the brush of silken lips against our thighs, and hands that could shape an earth-shaking spell and caress us to ecstasy with equal precision and skill. We remember returning to our right minds, and seeing her looking into our eyes with love. We remember her shock and horror as we fall, lifeless.

We watch, as Willow Rosenberg cradles the love of her life in her arms, screaming in disbelief and rage, and watch as her eyes burn with a flame that threatens to ignite the world.

We who have loved her, as prized student and friend, as surrogate daughter, as lover, stand by and watch, for we can do no more.

We wait. We watch. We fear. We love. We mourn.

We pray.

As before, comments are welcome and desired.