The Wind

By Cotti

Title: The Wind
Author: Me, Cotti ([email protected])
Rating: PG (character death)
Disclaimer: Spike and Willow aren’t mine, they’re
Joss’. The song is Cat
Stevens, God love him, he makes me do things.
Especially with this song,
it splits me open and makes me write fic.
Distribution: Take it, please, tell me too, I like
to see all the cool
sites I can.
Feedback: you should know that by now, I’m
addicted, it’s worse than
crack…
Author’s note: I can’t figure out if this is sad or
happy or something
else, please tell me?

I listen to the wind,
To the wind of my soul
Where I’ll end up,
Well I think only god really knows
I’ve sat upon the setting sun,
But never, never, never,
I never wanted water once,
No never, never, never

I listen to my words
But they fall far below
I let my music take me
Where my heart wants to go
I swam upon the devil’s lake,
But never, never, never,
I’ll never make the same mistake,
No never, never, never.
- The Wind, Cat Stevens

Willow stood in the darkness looking up at the
mansion, the sun setting
behind her. Her heart beat at a furious pace. She
stepped forward, every
part of her telling her to trust in her heart, her
soul, herself.
Another step, she carefully placed one foot in
front of the other,
terrified that she would fall if she didn’t make
sure every step was
carefully placed. She swallowed audibly, reaching
for the door handle.
She hesitated, frightened of what she might find
inside. She drew in a
deep breath, closing her eyes and twisting the
handle, forcibly dragging
the protesting door against it’s creaking hinges.
She stepped inside.
Nothing prepared her for what she saw, tiny white
lights everywhere, a
beautiful painting mounted above the fireplace, the
woman looked like
her, but the dress was completely different, her
ears pricked to the
soft music of Cat Stevens, she recognized the tune.
It was ‘The Wind’
she fell into the words, not moving, her eyes
closing to the sights
around her, to the ancient smell of the mansion,
despite it new
furnishings it still smelled like old things, dust,
and memories.
She let the world melt away, and nothingness
surrounding her, she was
standing on a high precipice, the sea raging below
her, the sweet sea
breezes filling her lungs, running through her
hair, ruffling the red
dress she wore.
Strong wrapped around her waist, holding her close.
Her heart sped up,
reaching an impossibly fast pace. She couldn’t look
up at him, afraid
she’d fallen asleep while still on her feet, the
music still singing in
her ears, tears stung her eyes, she didn’t want the
dream to end, but as
the music flowed and slowed, and finally ceased,
the sweet sea breezes
faded. Her hair fell limply around her face again,
her nose was filled
with the musty old small of the mansion once again.
She was standing on
the hard, stone floor, alone. But she wasn’t alone.
The strong arms were still wrapped tightly around
her and there was
still a strong chest for her back to lean against.
Still, she didn’t
risk opening her eyes. Then, his voice flung all
doubts of anything from
her mind. All coherent thought died with his rich,
accented words.
“I thought you wouldn’t come, baby,” his mouth was
so close to her ear
that she could feel his lips moving against the
soft flesh.
“I’ll always come for you, Spike,” she whispered
back, sheer ecstasy
flooding over her, she was back home, where she
belonged, in his arms.
“I love you Spike,” she told him, not looking at
him, praying that he
would tell her the same. He never had before, and
if he ever would, it
would be now.
“I love you too, Willow,” he said. It was the first
time he’d ever
called her by her real name, and her heart stopped
beating as he turned
her gently and kissed her.
With that kiss, her world ended. Her heart never
began beating again,
and her form slumped in his arms, tears of joy
staining her face. He
held her close, she was gone from him, and he had
to remain, though he
wanted to follow her. He loved her, and he let her
go.

*******
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