BUFFY HAS BEEN Ellie's best friend since they were in diapers.

Her earliest memories include her sister giggling at her side while they clambered over their respective fathers’ legs, two little girls still not old enough to know the world exists outside of their homes and families.  There were days Randy and Julie would watch Ellie-Marie,  days that often turned into sleepovers because neither she nor Buffy wanted the fun to be over yet.  It didn't matter what they were doing.  As long as it was together,  it was what they wanted.

Juno,  older and yet not as wiser as he once acted,  had almost been like the elder brother Ellie didn't have.  It was like a second home,  the Meeks-Macher residence,  with her own second family. Uncle Randy, aunt Julie, Juno and Buffy,  they were safe people.  Buffy is Ellie's sister.  Where one ends and the other begins is a blur of laughter and long summer days with their legs kicked up against the wall, faces covered in the delicate pink of strawberries while their hands stuck together after struggling to peel oranges.  Ellie will stick up for Buffy when the entire world seems to be against her.  For her,  Ellie thinks she could defy God.

The only thing that doesn't line up with their sisterhood is fighting.  Buffy's anger has never been aimed Ellie's way,  Ellie has never been the type to be truly enraged.

(There was one time not so long ago that she was.  When it was over,  when Tara pulled her from Amber's corpse,  when the fog of hate lifted,  Buffy was in the corner.  Bloodied,  bruised,  but blessedly alive.

Like she always will,  Ellie-Marie went to her.)

So no, seeing Buffy upset at a third party isn't new to her.

What is new is how she turns that glare Ellie's way.

“Stay out of this,  Ellie-Marie.”

Another new tick to the clock.  It's never Ellie-Marie with Buffy.  It's always Els,  El,  or some variation of an inside joke.

Ellie can't help the flicker of shock that hits her like a bus.  For an instant her eyebrows shoot up, eyes darting from Buffy to Juno before she tries again

“Buffy,”  she begins, keeping her tone gentle.  “I just wanna know if you're okay.”

“No!  No, I’m not okay.  I'm actually not okay at all,  and you wanna know why?”  Ellie doesn't get the chance to answer yes before Buffy is firing off, attention redirected from Ellie back to Juno.   “He won't let me live my own life!”

“That's not what I’m doing!”  Juno argues, voice raising despite how Ellie knows he's going to regret it later.   “I'm keeping you safe!”

“By what, obsessively isolating me?”  Buffy shoots back.   “‘He’s a bad guy,  Fi’.  How the hell do you know that?!”

“It's just a feeling!”

“Guys-”  Ellie tries, desperately trying to step between them before this gets any worse.  Buffy doesn't seem to realize it when she nudges her out of the way.

“A feeling!  Oh, it's a feeling!”  For the first time since this argument began Buffy is facing their crowd of friends, her smile bitter.  “Did you hear that, guys?  It's a feeling!  My dear brother here is stalking me over a feeling!”

“I'm not stalking you!”

“Bullshit!”  Buffy ignores how Mindy speaks her name from the group, drowning her out with waves of what Ellie can only assume to be the stress of the last twenty-four hours.  “You’ve been doing this from the start.  From the start, before this douchebag even came back, you've been suspicious of everyone I hang out with!  You've been following me, popping up when I go out-”

“We go to the same restaurants!”

“-overall being suffocating!  You're not letting me live, Juno!  My life is at risk and you still won't let me live!”

“Guys!”  Ellie ignores the alarms ringing in her head as she raises her voice, pushing the siblings apart with her body.  “Guys, we don't need to be fighting right now.  None of us.  I get that we're all stressed, but arguing won't keep us safe.”

“Seriously?”  Rather than annoyance in Buffy's eyes there's an obvious betrayal, one Ellie can't place a reason behind before her sister continues.  “You're gonna take his side?  You can't even back me up?”

“That's not what I-”

“Forget it.”  Buffy spits,  taking a step back with a firm shake of her head.   “Just forget it.  None of you support me?  Fine.  Fucking forget it.”

“Buffy!”

Before Ellie can make any effort to plead with her friend Buffy has stormed away, hands balled into fists at her sides.  It's dangerous to go anywhere alone at night, especially with these targets hanging over their heads.  Ellie can't help how her blood runs cold with fear the moment Buffy rounds the corner ahead,  already shrugging her overnight bag from her shoulder.

“Els,”  Juno tries, obligingly taking the bright pink bag despite what she knows he's going to say.  Everyone knows she won't listen.  Everyone knows there's no deterring her from what she's set her mind to.   “I can go after her.  She's already pissed at me.”

“Which is why I’m going. If she's busy being pissed at me instead, you'll be fine.”  The tight lipped smile she tries to offer comes off as more of a grimace,  heart racing with newfound adrenaline.  This is new to her.  Serial killers, death,  attempted murder,  Ellie can get accustomed to. Buffy being this angry with her?

Not so easy.

With one lingering look to her friends Ellie gives a two fingered wave,  hoping she looks less stressed than she feels.  Rory's arms are folded across her chest,  her eyes narrowed in a disapproval that's obvious without one word being spoken.  Tara is holding onto Sam's arm with a look so helpless that Ellie wants to reassure her rather than the other way around.  All in all, this isn't looking great.

“If Dad and auntie Abi get here,  tell them I’ll be right back.”   Ellie instructs, not allowing a word in edgewise before turning on her heel and walking away.

IT DOESN'T TAKE long to catch up with Buffy.  Ellie can ignore the calls behind her when she finally makes her way around the second corner,  remaining in pursuit of that head of curly hair and the pattern of steady footsteps she can recognize anywhere rather than allowing herself to be coaxed back to unpromised safety.  It's a promise she made to Buffy ages ago,  swearing that she would never be alone because Ellie would be there to bring her home.

She's here to do just that.

“Buffy!”  Ellie calls,  hoping that her desperation will be enough to make her best friend turn around.   “Buffy,  hang on!”

“I told you to leave me alone!”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay!”

Ellie hardly has time to back away when Buffy whips around,  so determined she was to step in front of her sister,  to cut this argument down and get Buffy somewhere she could be looked after,  that she didn't realize how close she was.

She doesn't get the chance to apologize before Buffy's anger ignites once more.

“How the fuck am I supposed to be okay right now?  One of the only people I can trust is everyone's suspect,  my parents are freaking out,  Juno is stalking me-”

“Juno's not-”

“Now he's sending you after me?  I don't need that,  Ellie!   I don't need an intervention!”

Ouch.

Ellie feels like she's been hit.  It shouldn't hurt this much, technically.  She's always been too sensitive for her own good when it comes to people she loves.  Call it oversensitivity,  call it being a little bitch,  she's heard both.  This is hardly an insult to anyone else.  It's an exasperated demand that Buffy has every right to make,  and yet Ellie-Marie keeps going.

“He didn't send me after you,  Fifi.  I chose to come here."   A beat as Ellie hesitates,  searching for a reaction before continuing.  "I don't want you to get hurt.”

“By who, huh?”   Buffy's eyebrows arch in a manner Ellie has never seen before, a precursor to something they’ve never once faced.  “By Ethan?”

Well.

Ellie's face must show her shock.  It isn't that she suspects Buffy is a killer right alongside him;  she would never do such a thing.  Out of all the possibilities,  it isn't even that Buffy may somehow see right through the positive guidance Ellie's encouraged along the way.  It's not any of that.

It's the fact that Buffy sounds so knowing.

Her sister lets out a sound that barely resembles the laugh it's supposed to be,  hollow like a corn husk and riddled with hurt that Ellie’s instincts plead with her to mend.   “You really thought I didn't see it?   I see it,  Ellie!  I see how you look at him.  I know you don't trust him!”

“It isn't that I don't trust him!”  Ellie argues.  It's a lie,  hardly a convincing one at that,  but she's grasping at straws here.  “You've said it,  Buffy.  Everyone's a suspect!”

“Yeah,  especially my boyfriend.”

There's no rebuttal Ellie can serve here.  Her mouth hangs agape,  air having to crawl to her lungs in an effort to keep breathing.  Whatever she says won't be right.  Whatever she does will hurt Buffy one way or another.

She can't do it.

Sorrow shifts to take hold of Buffy's features before she shakes her head,  curls flopping about with that same abandon as ever.   “You're just like everyone else.  None of you even want me to be happy,  do you?  You're supposed to be my sister and- and you don't even want me to be happy.”

Supposed to be my sister.

The words hit like a rain of bullets.  Buffy blurs before her as Ellie processes the words,  feels the weight settle on her shoulders like an added thousand pounds.  That isn't what she wants.  She wants Buffy happy,  she wants to see her best friend glowing the way she has for the last several months.  She wants to see that light in her eyes,  wants to be there when Buffy's bringing good news back from yet another date.  She wants to be the first call.  She wants Buffy to be so happy that it lights up every room and beats out every star.  She wants that for her.  No matter what she thinks of Ethan,  Buffy deserves this happiness.

With a forced nod Ellie-Marie steps away from her best friend,  hands clenching into fists as Buffy shakes her head.

“I'd never do this to you.”

The final blow.

Ellie doesn't open her mouth to protest when Buffy turns on her heel and storms away.  She can't.  It's only when Buffy has disappeared around another corner that Ellie lets her shoulders roll inwards,  a position of defeat that makes her feel like prey now more than ever.  The tears well in her eyes and burn when they course down her cheeks,  amplified by the chilly night air November brings.  The only noise that can come from her now is a broken sound of pure hurt.

In the streets of New York City,  Ellie-Marie can only sob when everything begins to crumble.

SHE FEELS LIKE a child.

Why is she crying over this?  On one hand it's obvious;  she just had a huge fight with her best friend,  one she didn't see coming even on their worst day.   On the other,  it's laughable;  she's being hunted by a serial killer for the umpteenth time,  but this is what cracks her?  Ellie is nineteen years old and crying over an argument.   Maybe it's the stress,  maybe it's the hatred of personal confrontation,  maybe she just hasn't slept in nearly an entire day and the situations are beginning to feel like weapons that prick at her skin until crimson beads to the surface.

Or maybe she's too sensitive.

That last one isn't even a maybe.  Ellie is more than familiar with people believing her to be both oversensitive and overdramatic.  Outside of her family, only Buffy and Tara see everything for what it really is.  It's kind of funny in the same way a weeping clown is kind of sad.

She takes her time under the dim street lights.  The tears trickle still down her cheeks steadily,  the buzz of the lights still scratches at a decade old awareness in the back of her mind.  Cars pass,  footsteps echo,  she sniffles now and again. A young girl crying at the side of the street is nothing new in any big city,  she imagines.  Much less New York.

It should only take seven minutes to get back to the apartment building.  Ellie knows she's stretched it out longer than that,  knows she's more or less asking for trouble with the way she's dragging along,  but part of her doesn't want to go back yet.  Part of her wants to sit here and weep because everything is going to shit no matter how badly she wants to pretend it isn't.  Part of her wants to call Dad and cry until he comes to get her.  Part of her wants to curl up in Abi's arms and be reassured until morning comes.  Part of her even wants Mom,  which is a whole new ache and pain.  Part of her wants Lou to give it to her straight,  to be honest in the cutthroat way that Ellie knows is served with love,  maybe highlight it as a reality check.  You've almost died how many times?  What does it say about you that this is what hurts the most?

She wants to be embarrassed of how badly this hurts.  She's already ashamed of how badly this hurts,  even more ashamed of just letting Buffy walk away because of it.

So it's a relief when aunt Juliette steps out of the building just as Ellie is about to enter,  sniffling despite her attempts against it.  She won't let Buffy get too far.  She'll find her.  She'll make this better,  even if it makes Buffy mad.

“Sweetheart,”  Julie says,  hand lingering on the railing as she takes the final step down.   “What happened?”

“Nothing,”  there's a thin line to tread here,  Ellie knows.  She's not looking to get Buffy in trouble.   “She's a little upset,  that's all.”

Aunt Julie's brow creases before she's sighing,  looking just beyond where the sidewalk ends.   “I take it she's mad?”

“Agitated,”   Ellie offers.   “Nothing that's got her too riled up.  I bet you could talk to her.”

Julie looks doubtful of this.  Ellie can't say she blames her.

“She'll be okay,”  she tries again.   “I think she’s had enough time to cool off.  You could probably talk to her now.”

Before Julie can respond the hotel door opens again,  a flash of raven hair being the only signal Ellie gets before Tara is right by Julie's side.  Her face reflects a relief Ellie currently can't relate to,  those doe eyes shifting from her to Julie.

“Hey,”  Tara starts,  her awkwardness somehow still adorable despite the circumstances.  “Uh…sorry,  Jules.  I didn't realize you were still here.”

“You're fine, Tara.  I should probably get going if I wanna catch up with Fi.”  Julie doesn't wait for an answer before she's politely going around where Ellie stands at the foot of the stairs.

“Be safe.”  Ellie instructs, ignoring how hypocritical it probably is for her to be giving such instructions at the moment.

Luckily for her Julie doesn't call out the move,  a stressed smile forming as she glances over her shoulder.   “I will be.”

Ellie waits until Julie is out of earshot before she's turning back to Tara,  wiping once more at her damp cheeks.   “Sorry if I scared you,  TT,  I-”

“You're crying.”

Tara's observation makes Ellie-Marie all the more aware of how she must seem right now.  Being weepy after chasing her best friend in the middle of the night probably isn't a good look.   “No,  yeah,  Buffy's okay.  She's okay,  she just needs to calm down a little.”

“Are you okay?”

“I'm fine.”   Tara doesn't look too convinced of this- for good reason,  Ellie supposes-  so she tries again.   “I'm fine,  I promise.  We had an argument.  I pressed too quickly,  it's nothing.”

Tara's face softens in the way that typically makes Ellie's heart skip, stepping down the last step to wrap her arms around Ellie-Marie.  She somehow knows exactly when she needs this the most.

"Come on,"  Tara says once they part.  "Your dad and Abi are here.  They're worried about you."

"I keep getting great news tonight, don't I?"  It's a weak attempt at a joke,  this,  but Ellie needs something to cling to that isn't Tara.  She's leading them up the stairs with her arm looped through Ellie's,  jacket apparently discarded for the evening.   Her touch is a comfort Ellie hadn't even realized she needed.   While it doesn't make everything better,  it makes the blow of the argument feel less like a punch to the gut.

"They're not mad."  Tara counters,  scooting over once they reach the staircase.  She shakes her head when Ellie motions for her to take the lead,  scooting over more so the two of them can not-so-comfortably squish into the narrow path the stairs provide.

"You don't think so?"

"Abi isn't,  and if your dad is,  it's not because of you.  He worries."    With a shake of her head Tara offers a smile,  somehow unfazed by how their noses touch when she turns her head.   "It's nice.  You deserve people who're gonna worry about you when you put yourself in danger."

"I wasn't in danger."

Tara's nose scrunches with distaste at the statement,  not looking away even as Ellie stumbles over the next set of stairs.   "Els,  I was worried about you."

"You have a tendency to worry about me."

When Tara furrows her brows Ellie can't help the tired smile creeping across her lips,  giggling despite how her heart feels weighted.   "You didn't realize?"

"I didn't realize you notice."

They've come to a stop outside the apartment door.  Ellie has a feeling they should go in,  knows she should probably reassure her family that she's alive and well,  but Tara's grown quiet enough for Ellie to be concerned.

"Hey,"  she says,  aiming to pull her from the seemingly embarrassed state she seems to have entered.   "Moonlight,  you keep forgetting I notice everything about you."

Why the fuck did she say that.

"Yeah,"  Tara responds,  seemingly still lost in thought.  "You really come close."

Before Ellie can figure out what the hell that's supposed to mean,  the door opens.  Anika pokes her head through the gap apologetically.

"Sorry to interrupt, gaydies.  Ellie,  your dad's starting to pace."

Shaking her head Tara grins the same grin she always wears around their friends,  grabbing Ellie's hand to pull her inside.

And because she would follow Tara anywhere,  Ellie follows.

(Also because she thinks Dad has worried enough for a millennia,  but that can remain unvoiced.)

IT'S WHEN BUFFY slams the door shut behind her and Juliette that Ellie leaves the living room.

They've never had a fight.  Their similarities are strong enough that they've always been close to the same page,  if not sharing it altogether.  They've always been more like twins than two best friends.  Having a distance between them now feels like a full mental blockade,  giving Ellie every reason to stand from where she'd sat between her father and Anika and make her way to Tara's room.

She's choosing to ignore the wink Rory gave her when telling her where everything was.

Photography always helps the world feel less suffocating.  It's been her greatest passion since she was six years old and getting a camera from uncle Randy for her birthday.  Unlike her mother,  the behind the scenes work is more what Ellie prefers.  After pulling her special photo-album-in-progress out of the bag  (neatly placed on clothes so microfolded that Ellie feels like she should have won a medal)  she tucks herself at the foot of the bed,  laying each photo out to be reevaluated.  The bright side of this situation is that she refuses to die before she completes any work in progress.  She can sit in solitaire here, piece her album together and wrap it in the perfect little bow she intends to present it in.

Taking a deep breath Ellie tries refocusing herself,  eyes closing in this attempt to be centered.

The door opening is what alerts Ellie that she's not alone.

From where she's fiddling with her photos on the floor Ellie-Marie jumps to her feet,  hand moving to her hip as she whips around.  She's not going down without a fight,  she can scream and she can fire and she can-

"Don't shoot!"

It only takes a moment for her senses to clear from the shoot-first-ask-later fog she's settled into these days.  Tara's voice does the trick every time,  after all,  but it's actually the lack of panic on her face that reminds Ellie how safe she really is.

"Sorry!"  She exclaims,  hands moving up and away from her hips.   "I'm so so sorry oh my God I totally just gave you a heart attack didn't I?  I swear I didn't meant to I just-"

"Ellie,"  Tara is able to cut her off with nothing but her name and a smile.  It's a talent of hers,  Ellie has found.   One many people cannot emulate in the slightest.   "I swear that you're fine.   It's my fault,  really.  Shoulda'  knocked first."

"No,  no-"

"Ellie."  With a patient smile,  one that feels dangerously fond and makes her stomach feel all flighty again,  Tara shakes her head.  "We're all on edge right now,  yeah?   I get it."

"Still..."  Ellie can't fight how apologies would do anything to spill from her right now,  her nervous smile turning bashful as she sinks back to the ground.  "this is your room.  Sorry."

Tara laughs in the way that makes everything feel ten times lighter.  "I accept your unnecessary apology,  sunshine.  What're you working on?"

The question makes Ellie relax immediately.  Like a dog being called for a ride she seems to perk up,  sitting down in front of her photos before patting the spot on the floor beside her eagerly.   "I'm making a new photo album!  It's actually supposed to be a gift for Sam,  so you can totally have an in on it!"

"You're making her a photo album?"  Tara asks,  following Ellie's request without question.   It's endearing,  Ellie thinks,  how willing Tara is to make her happy when her smile alone makes her entire day.

"Uh-huh!  All of the places she's loved around here."  Leaning forward Ellie plucks a photo from the lineup,  proudly displaying the crystal clear image of the sisters by the pier.   "Like this one.  I took it months ago,  she might not even remember,  but I know she was hyped about it."

There's a tenderness to Tara's eyes as she takes the photo between her fingers,  studying it in a way that makes Ellie shift.   Tara is the only person she will accept criticism from on her work this far along,  especially on a gift for Sam.  She can say the word and this will be over.  "You're making a memory album for her?"

"Mhm."  Less hesitation, E.  "Yeah.  Yeah,  I figured that,  since she's had a really hard time here,  she needed a reminder of the memories you guys have made."

Tara's silent for a long moment.  She's thinking her words over,  Ellie recognizes.  That means it's either her worst idea yet or-

"You're incredible."

-or that.

The heat that rises to Ellie's cheeks makes her duck away from Tara's gaze.   "It wasn't hard.  She's always happiest with you."   Say it.  Say it,  Ellie-Marie.  You could be dead tonight,  just say it.  "I get why."

Shouldn't have said it.

Watching Tara's expression morph is a show Ellie has tuned into many,  many times.  She's an expressive person despite her efforts to combat it,  always raising her eyebrows or finding a new way for her lips to twist and convey the words she's yet to say.  She's someone Ellie knows like the back of her hand,  but she's never seen this look.  Which is fine and well, as the accompanying silence is making her wish she never had the chance.  Ninety Mississippi's are counted before she's opening her mouth to speak,  to amend,  to clarify with a lie that'll only make this worse.

And Tara cuts her off.

"I didn't come here for New York."

An unexpected shift in topic,  but alright.  If it'll make them abandon their prior conversation then Ellie is all for it.  All aboard the avoidance train for a one-way journey to NeverHappenedVille.

"What'd you come here for?"  She asks,  deciding to follow this route with the same nonchalance Tara seems to possess.

What she doesn't expect is for Tara to shake her head in a move so adoring it makes her jealous of what or who earned it.

"You think I moved out here for fun?"  A rhetorical question.  They'd spent too many hours mouthing about traffic and wannabe influencers for that to be the sole reason,  which she acknowledges now with a snort.

Then Tara continues.

"College,  yeah,  but I didn't apply to Blackmore just because."

That grabs her attention.  Tara loves college,  loves the freedom,  loves the easy anonymity of going to school in a place like New York.  It never occurred to Ellie that she would choose somewhere else,  that another place was even on the board.  "You didn't?"

"No.  No,  uh,  it's actually kinda crazy.  I have this blonde ball of glitter that I would go anywhere with,  and since she lives here,  I knew I had to be here with her."

Oh.

Oh.

Ellie-Marie doesn't dare to speak.  She doesn't think she's breathing,  either,  but she doesn't care as much about that as she cares about whatever Tara plans to say next.  She waits with a bated breath while Tara runs her tongue over her lips,  eyes darting down.

"I was stupid.  I thought it'd pass,  that at least I'd be here with you while going to college.  I didn't think- I mean,  I didn't realize-"   another break.  Ellie has no clue how much longer of this she can physically take before she explodes,  but she's still not moving a muscle.

"It didn't pass."  Tara finally continues.   "Think it- looking back,  you know,  it was always there.  And you somehow never noticed."

Her eyes rising back up is the reminder for Ellie to speak.  She takes a breath- apparently she hasn't in a hot minute,  considering how deep it is-  then forces her voice to form words despite the shakiness.  "You mean you..."

"I did."  Tara confirms.  She's never sounded shyer.  It's cute, acting like Ellie hasn't fawned over her for the better part of a decade.  "I do."

They're not far apart.  Ellie-Marie notes this as some distant,  half aware comprehension before realizing that she would like to do something about that.

By the way Tara leans in,  she's thinking the same.

She can feel Tara's breath fanning across her face.  She smells of strawberries and citrus, a fruity mix with a pop that Ellie's never noticed this strongly before.  Their lips brush in a feather-light way,  noses touching in that brief moment of hesitation before Tara leans in closer.  Ellie can hear her heartbeat in her ears,  can feel how her legs shake with nerves despite sitting on the floor,  can feel her body turning to Tara like a sunflower.  Their lips touch once more,  barely a faint start,  then-

PING!

The dual notifications sends the two jolting at the same time.  Their heads knock together to add salt in a wound that didn't need to be picked open at all,  certainly not fucking now of all times,  and Ellie can't fight the wince as she raises a hand to her head.

"Fuck,"  Tara hisses between her teeth,  lifting her own hand to her head before leaning forward,  resting her free hand over Ellie's.   "I swear to God,  if that's one of them being an idiot then I'm gonna fucking kill someone.  Are you okay?"

"I'm fine,"  from how hot her cheeks feel she's more than fine,  still operating off whatever high the last three minutes have been,  but that's not what Tara asked.  "I've had worse.  Are you okay?"

In response Tara pulls her hand from her head,  displaying the scar on the back with a goofily crooked grin.   "Been worse.  Hang on and let me check that,  then we should definitely...get back...yeah."

It's her fumbling that sends Ellie into giggles,  leaning her head forward to rest against Tara's shoulder as she opens her messages.

The schoolgirl blush drains from her face the instant the photo loads.

Before she can stop herself,  Ellie's on her feet.