Losing Ground

[its_worthdoing]

[She only has to wake up to know. All the off Willow feels is confirmed by a cursory look around the room. She doesn't linger.

The lingering hurts more.

From three. To two.

Then one.

Despite all the knowing, she makes the brief walk to the room-that-ever-was.

The words are soft and contained]

Jilly's gone. Jilly's gone home.

[And then, before she can think better of it? Or quadruple doubt herself? She filters someone in particular]


She's -- she's gone Billy. I woke up and she was just gone.

Comments

[needtoruleit]

But--she can't be...

[that was just one of those things that doesn't happen. Jilly being around was one of those few constants in the world. Even when everything else fell apart and rearranged, that part kept on going. The castle would always screw him over, people would always follow ignorant human nature, and Jilly would always be there to throw optimism at him when he wanted it the least. It's just how things are.

That sound in Willow's voice, though. It doesn't sound like her, and that has a strange effect on him. It makes him start to realize for maybe the first time in a while, that maybe things are changing]

[its_worthdoing]

She can Billy. It's just me. [Willow hears that particular truth in her voice and immediately backs away from it] In my room, I mean. It is just me.

[Again, Willow looks to the space on the wall where the door to Jilly's room had stood. And after that? Xander's. She is tired. Of people leaving. And people that manage to stay and leave at the same time]

...she can.