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Tara let herself in the front door quietly. She didn’t bother knocking, it was early and Buffy always insisted she use her key. It didn’t matter anyway, as soon as the door was open she could hear excited chatter from the living room.
“And then Vi, Vi actually yells ‘we’re just four helpless girls!’”
All the potentials were gathered in a circle, excitedly going over the events from the night before. Aside from the Dawn-is-a-potential scare, it had been a pretty run of the mill night by Tara’s standards. But she can’t help but smile at their enthusiasm. Them bonding and finding purpose in who they are and why they’re here was good to see.
They don’t notice Tara as she slips down the hall and into the kitchen.
“Morin.” Dawn says through a mouthful of cereal, which Tara translates as ‘morning’.
“Hey!” Buffy’s washing out a pan in the sink, but she gestures to the kettle. “It should still be hot if you want tea.”
“Thank you. And morning to you too, how are you feeling?” Tara asks. She can tell Dawn’s been a little off since a bunch of other teenagers started living in her house. The added ‘I’m a potential slayer’ business from last night was a lot for her to deal with, not to mention how confused she must feel now the rug’s been ripped out from under her.
But Dawn just nods encouragingly. “‘m ‘ine.” Tara figures she means she’s fine, but before she can clarify Dawn shoves the last spoonful of cereal in her mouth, and drops the bowl in the sink. “‘anks!”
Buffy huffs, but Dawn’s already leaving the kitchen. Hm. Tara frowns as she brews her tea.
“Has she said anything? About last night?” Tara asks.
“What? Oh, uh, no. No - it was just a vampire.” Buffy says distractedly, adding the washed bowl to the drying rack. She sighs at the large amount of dishes piled up there. “Okay, I need to make some sort of chore chart, especially since more girls are coming.”
“I can do that, if you want?”
“Seriously? Yes, thank you. Slaying demons I can do, but running some sort of safe-house-slash-boarding-school solo was not something I ever trained for.” Buffy runs her hands over her hair, smoothing it down. Her bruising has healed, scars fading, but the memory of her exhausted and black and blue is still fresh. With the uber-vamp defeated and Spike back, Buffy has seemed more in control, but she’s still overwhelmed. Who wouldn’t be? There’s already so many people here depending on her, girls who’s lives depend on her, and a world that depends on these girls and Buffy saving them.
“Yes, seriously.” Tara nudges her away from the sink. “I’ll finish up here too.”
Buffy briefly leans her head against Tara’s shoulder. “Thanks. Should get started on training the girls anyway. Evil never rests, and all that.”
“Make sure you rest too.”
“I’ll pencil that in.” Buffy stands back up, straightening her shoulders before marching out of the room.
As Tara puts the dry dishes away, she can hear Buffy and Dawn interacting in the hallway, Dawn once again insisting she’s okay and changing the subject. Tara doesn’t believe it for a second, but Buffy just… accepts the response and calls the potentials downstairs for training. The Summers sisters not talking to each other never leads to anything good. Tara might mention it to Willow or Xander, see if they’ve noticed anything.
Buffy holds open the basement door, and the potentials start to file in from the living room. Only… they walk right past Dawn. Not even looking at her, like she’s not even there.
And something in Tara aches fiercely.
Tara can see her dad entering the kitchen to grab a drink and not even acknowledging that she was making dinner. Donny turning on the TV and putting the volume all the way up as though Tara wasn’t already in the room studying. Or his friends being over and moving right past her like she was nothing more then an extension of the wallpaper. Maybe the sick, boiling feeling inside her has more to do with Tara’s own issues, but Dawn looks small and unsurprised as the girls breeze past her. Just because they’re potential slayers doesn’t mean they’re better then anyone else. No one deserves to be treated like they’re invisible, especially not in their own home.
But Tara is not the silent, terrified girl she used to be. She left home and started a new life for herself. She stands up for herself, even to the people she loves most. She’s held her ground against a hell god, she’s killed demons, she’s died in this house and got ripped back to life only to need to help save the world again. Tara found her voice a long time ago.
And there’s no way Tara is ever letting anyone feel like she used to. Especially not Dawn.
“Hey, girls! Don’t mind us.” Tara calls out pointedly, flashing them a practiced smile. The potentials freeze, shuffling awkwardly, nodding at her and Dawn before practically rushing down the stairs. Amanda even gives Dawn a wave goodbye.
Tara’s reminded that they’re young, and that they probably didn’t mean to be rude. They’ve got a lot on their minds. They’re like Buffy in that way, ultra-focused. Maybe it’s a slayer thing. Still, Tara doesn’t want Dawn feeling uncomfortable in her own home. She’s the only one who’s the same age as the other potentials, the only one who isn’t a potential. Tara braces herself, knowing she needs to talk with Buffy. She’s never been very good at that. Confrontation. Or even just communication, especially when it might be hard for the other person to hear. But… this is her family. Her real family, the people she loves that love her back. She might not live here anymore, but she’s in framed pictures around the house. Her mugs are in the cupboard. She’s got a Christmas stocking with her name stitched on it. Family might not always be easy, but it’s worth it. So after Buffy’s finished with training, Tara swears to herself that she’s going to talk with her about this.
But there is someone she can talk to right now.
Dawn is sitting by herself, going over the giant, ancient books Mr. Giles managed to save. Once she’s finished with the dishes, Tara grabs her cup of tea, takes a deep breath, and walks over to the dining table. She must hesitate for just too long to be natural, because Dawn glances over her shoulder.
“What’s up?”
“Um, just… thinking?” Tara says and Dawn raises an eyebrow at her. She is still a teenager. Tara clears her throat, trying to get her thoughts in order. “About the other girls. It’s a lot of responsibility, being a potential. Just going about your life like everything’s ordinary and then suddenly you’ve got danger, destiny, evil knife minions coming after you. It’s a lot.”
Dawn looks away. “They can handle it.”
Tara takes a seat beside her, taking a sip of her tea. “Yeah. They’re special, no doubt. Chosen. But… I don’t think they’ll ever really understand.”
“What?”
“What it’s like for everyone else.” Tara says softly. Dawn glances up at her, frowning.
“Well… that’s kind of the point. They’ve got these magical destinies they never asked for. The weight of the world on their shoulders. Shorter lifespan then they should have.”
Tara nods. It’s a delicate subject, and she doesn’t want to upset Dawn, but it’s important that she understands how much more she is then just ‘not a potential.’ “That’s very true. It’s a rough deal. But you’d get that, wouldn’t you? It’s kind of like when Glory and the knights were after you.”
“I- I guess. But that wasn’t destiny, that was… I mean, no one’s after me anymore. I’m just human now. Ordinary.”
Tara’s hands clench around her mug. It’s still hot and the feeling burns, but it grounds her a little. Helps her keep her expression in check so Dawn doesn’t see how upset she is to hear the most wonderful person talk about herself like she’s nothing. “Sweetie, you’re far from ordinary. You ate a cucumber, sardine and honey sandwich and enjoyed it.” She shudders for effect and Dawn scoffs, but she’s smiling. Tara takes another sip of tea, carefully considering what she’s going to say before resolutely continuing. “But also… I saw you. Last night."
“Yeah, I-” Dawn shakes her head, embarrassed. “I guess I kinda lost my head when I thought I was the slayer. Potential slayer.”
Of course that’s where Dawn’s mind goes. But Tara wants her to know that’s not what she thinks. “It was a lot to deal with. You thought you had a new destiny. Miss Sunnydale 2003. But the minute you found out you weren't, you handed the crown to Amanda without a moment's pause.” Tara says firmly, and Dawn stills beside her. “You believed in her, you gave her the strength to fight.”
“No she- she already had that in her.”
Tara sighs. “You know, the mortal peril part wasn’t actually what I meant, before. About them not understanding. They’re chosen. They didn’t have a choice. And while there’s so many issues with that - it’s in their blood. They don’t get what it’s like to choose this kind of life.”
Dawn looks up at her, something curious and desperate in her gaze. And suddenly Tara’s talking before she realises what she’s saying.
“Do you know how I met Willow?”
She doesn’t want to talk about Willow, especially not with Dawn. Willow - her ex-girlfriend who is still her friend, mostly, who brought her back to life with dark magic, who is trying her damnedest to stay on the right track, who Tara loves but doesn’t always trust. Who is currently asleep upstairs. Tara’s never seen Dawn more excited then the moment she’d realised they’d gotten back together. For Dawn, who’s had so many parental figures come and go it’s like a sick game of tennis, Tara knows it was like her parents were back together. Only for everything to fall apart again, worse then before. Dawn doesn’t push anymore, but Tara still sees the hopeful look on her face when they’re all together, even though she tries to hide it. And Tara hates to disappoint her.
No, she doesn’t want to talk about Willow. But this is important, Dawn is important, so Tara pushes through.
“In a wicca group, right?”
“Mhm. But, um, we’d never talked. I could tell she was a witch though. And when everyone’s voices got stolen, I thought she and I could do a spell to try and bring them back. I went out at night to try and find her dorm.”
“Seriously?”
There’s that teenage sass again. “Yes, seriously. It’s not like Sunnydale comes with a pamphlet saying: ‘The reason things are so cheap is the death toll! Stay indoors!’” Tara jokes, and Dawn snorts. “Anyway, I was out, alone, at night. And suddenly there were horrifying demons in suits and straight jackets. It was one of the most terrifying moments of my life, I’d never experienced anything like it before. They were chasing me, I got into one of the dorms, and I was banging on all the doors but I couldn’t speak. I was desperate, hoping someone would open up and help me. But no one did. I tried so many doors, on so many levels. But only two doors opened. One was a demon. The other was Willow. She came out to check on the noise.”
Dawn’s eyes are wide with intrigue. “And you two worked some magic?”
No, Tara does not miss the double implication. She also doesn’t acknowledge how that’s not entirely inaccurate. Although the ‘magic’ was more chemistry and connection and curiosity then anything.
“Eventually. First I crashed into her and we ran and hid in the laundry room. Willow tried to do a spell to barricade the door, but she wasn’t powerful enough yet. But we worked together and that spell saved us.”
“See, magical destiny.”
“There was no destiny, Dawn.” Tara insists. “Willow had no idea I could do magic. She wasn’t an accomplished witch yet. She had no idea what that noise was when she went to help. She did it because she was brave, because it was the right thing to do, even though the easiest thing would have been to stay away. Like everyone else did.” Tara lets that sit with Dawn for a moment. “You know, I can see how scared the other girls are. But ever since they’ve started training they’ve been a little…”
“High maintenance?” Dawn supplies hesitantly.
“Yeah. Arrogant, jerk-like and stuck up, were more what I was thinking. Not in everything just… I’ve seen the way they talk to Xander. Or the way they treat you.”
Dawn shifts uncomfortably, eyes darting back towards the kitchen. But they’re alone. She knows what Tara said is the truth, she’s just not used to someone saying it. “We don’t have powers.” She says quietly, like that explains or excuses it.
“So that makes you powerless?” Tara asks. Dawn blinks at her, before staring down at the pages on the table. “We’re surrounded by these larger then life people who are so powerful, who have these great purposes, or have lived these long lives. And sometimes they’re not seeing you. It’s hard, to live near the spotlight and never step in it. I… I do get that. But just because some people might think you’re less, that doesn’t mean it’s true.” Tara reaches out and takes Dawn’s hand. “Like Xander! Xander’s a carpenter. A builder. And a very good one, at that. We probably all would have freezed to death by now if he hadn’t kept fixing everything broken in this house. That’s a valuable job. So is what you’re doing right now. Research, knowledge? It’s no good to have the ability to fight but no idea how to find or kill whatever’s out there. Those jobs might not be as flashy, but they’re an important piece in the puzzle. But even without powers, Xander’s been fighting the supernatural for years now. Going out on patrols, facing big bads. As just an ordinary human. He doesn’t have powers or a magical destiny, but he still chooses to do it. Chooses to do the hard and dangerous thing that most people would never even think of or try to do - to keep people safe. Just like you.”
Tara reaches out with her other hand, tilting Dawn’s cheek so she can look at her. There are tears in Dawn’s eyes, but she meets Tara’s gaze determinedly.
“You’re sixteen, Dawn. You’ve already been through so much, but you’re still here. Still working, still fighting. They'll never know how tough it is, Dawnie, to be the one who isn't chosen. But I see you. I see how much you’ve grown, how much you care, how much you do. I see the choices you’re making, and I am so proud of you. You're not special - you're extraordinary.”
The tears slip down Dawn’s cheeks as she rushes forwards and throws her arms around Tara, burying her face in Tara’s sweater. Tara’s trying her best not to cry herself, but she wraps her arms around Dawn and holds her tightly right back.
“‘ove ‘ou.” Dawn murmurs, muffled. But Tara’s a master translater now.
“I love you too.”
They stay like that for a while, before eventually Dawn leans back, wiping at her eyes. “Thanks. For, well-” Dawn gestures around them awkwardly, but she glances up at Tara with a small, genuine smile.
“You’re welcome.” Tara finishes off her tea, now borderline lukewarm, and stands. “I’m gonna get another cup. I could make you a coffee, then we can go through these books together?”
“Sure, I'd like that. Thanks.” Dawn grins at her now, and Tara leans down, pressing a kiss against Dawn’s forehead.