Edited:Fever (chapter Five)

["Christeen Demons" <Shyfox30@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

Chapter Five: Dream a little dream

Last thing I remember I was running for the door.
I had to find the passage back to the place that I was before.
Relax, said the nightman. We are programmed to receive.
You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.

The Eagles "Hotel California"

The coven sat in rapt attention as they watched events transpire through the 
portal produced by a merrily bubbling cauldron in the center of the group. 
These weren't actual events-- events taking place in real time-- merely 
events that they themselves produced. Produced through the clouded mind of 
one Willow Rosenberg-Summers.
"I wonder why she's dreaming about that?" Mabel asked, shuddering almost 
gleefully, as the moans and cries the redhead was emiting reached their 
ears.
"Expectant mothers have ..so many..lovely fears dearie. I should know--I was 
one." The oldest of the group smiled, her green eyes flashing merrily at the 
recollection. "They seem so small now, but for Willow..well..let's just say 
we gave them teeth. More tea?" She
asked, holding up the fine bone china teapot.

*****

"Push Willow! Push!" Buffy urged her wife. Willow could hear the excitement 
in Buffy's voice, but it didn't stop her from being annoyed at the 
encouragement.
"I AM PUSHING!!" Willow screamed back. 'What does she think I'm doing? 
Having a field day?' She thought lucidly, in between spouts of pain.
Oh it hurt. And she thought she knew pain, having tussled with so 
many...tussleworthy night beasties in her time. Birth took her definition of 
pain, put it in a blender, set it on puree and shoved it up her nose.
"I can see the head!" The doctor said clearly. "One last push should do it."

Buffy shot up excitedly from her knealt position beside Willow's head, 
craning her neck to see if she could see what was happening between Willow's 
legs. "Oh my god." Buffy said, her voice tiny as she stared in awe at the 
earth shattering occurance.
Willow was distracted for a brief moment from her overwhelming pain, by the 
white pallor that was crossing Buffy's face. "What?! What's wrong?" 
Willow cried urgently.
"Not- Nothing." Buffy stuttered, tearing her eyes away from Willow's lower 
half through shear force of will. "You're fine...you're good...I can see 
the head."
"Don't DO that!!" Willow howled, swinging with aggravation at her wife for 
the near fatal heart attack.
Buffy caught the flailing hand with her own, ignoring the glare she 
recieved. "Come on honey! You can do it!" Buffy cheered, grinning brightly 
as she squeezed Willow's hand. "You're almost there."
"NNnnnnnnnaaaaaaRRRGGHH!" Was Willow's intelligent reply.

"Annn..dd..You're good. I've got her." The doctor said finally, his voice 
wearily comforting.
Willow smiled weakly. She could see her toes. 'Hello toes.' She greeted the 
once missing appendages giddily. "Well?" She asked weakly. "Is it her? Can 
I see her?"
The doctor's eyes widened behind his mask. His mouth appeared to be working 
but no sounds came out. Willow watched as a clipboard, being carried by one 
of the nurses, tumbled, almost floated--to the floor.
And in the sudden silence of the maternity ward...with a wet sickly burble, 
new lungs took their first breath of air...and something hissed.
*****

"Tara?" Buffy questioned the blonde witch's sudden appearance with a growl, 
eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Tara gulped, immediately unnerved by the glare being thrown in her 
direction. She shifted nervously from foot to foot, feeling sweat form on 
the back of her neck and shoulders, unable to form a sentence in her head 
much less say it. 'Maybe this was a bad idea.' She couldn't help thinking, 
as her eyes connected and froze on the icy blue of the Slayer's. 'She 
probably thinks I'm behind all this...' The hard set to the Slayer's face 
convinced her that she was right. '...not that I can blame her...not after 
what I did.' She felt a pang of guilt as
her eyes shifted briefly from Buffy to Willow, her heart seizing painfully 
when she saw how bad off Willow really was. 'But I can't walk away now.'
She had no time to dwell on that, however, as Buffy stepped menacingly 
across the room, grabbed her by the arms and shoved her against the wall. 
Tara felt pain as the back of her head met the wall, but that was quickly 
outdone by the pain caused by her teeth biting into
her lower lip. She tasted the salty bitterness of blood in her mouth, her 
heart beating rapidly, as she tried to shrink away from the powerful Slayer.
"What are you doing here?" Buffy growled, rage a simmering cesspool of 
heat, just below the surface. 'She's behind this...I know she's behind this 
some how...and I'm going to make her pay.' Her hands squeezed tightly on 
the blonde witches arms at the thought, and Tara cried out in pain.
"I-I came here to..." Tara squeeked out in a panic, pain a driving force in 
getting her brain to actually formulate words. "I'm...I'm here to 
help...honest." Her eyes pled silently with the Slayer's own, hoping 
against all hope that she'd believe her.
"Why should I believe you?" Buffy asked, gritting her teeth. She swore she 
could smell the witches fear, breathing it in deeply into her nostrils. 'Of 
course, that could also be her sweat.' Buffy realized, inhaling the pungent 
aroma. "You're a witch...a very powerful one
at that." Buffy had never really forgotten the whole body switching fiasco. 
"You could be behind this whole thing. Maybe you never got over being 
rejected. This could be your pay back." Buffy growled, her face turning 
savage, her eyes lighting with an unnatural desire
to harm, kill...destroy.

Tara's eyes widened, hurt clearly shining from their cornflower blue depths. 
"I-I would never hurt Willow." Tara replied, her eyes tearing 
unexpectedly, and the ragged ache of the voice had Buffy almost, nearly 
convinced. Maybe it was because the blonde witch oozed 'innocence' like it 
was a naturally occuring hormone. Then again, maybe it was
because Tara's eyes mirrored so clearly the pain she herself was feeling but 
refused to show.
'There's love there.' Buffy admitted to herself grudgingly. Unrequited 
though it may be, it wasn't like the blonde could help it. 'Doesn't mean I 
have to like it, though.' Buffy grumbled, internally, reluctantly letting 
her hold on the blond witch go.
Tara slumped against the wall, relief flooding her body, leaving her 
shaking. She could see the ferocity dimming in the Slayer's eyes, leaving a 
cool, thinking rationality in it's place. 'It's like a beast being chained.' 
Tara thought abstractly, gazing at the change in wonder.
"You said you were here to help..." Buffy prodded. 'I need answers!' She 
thought, impatiently. 'Any kind of answers will do. I'm so sick of being 
left in the dark.' "How? How did you know Willow was...sick?" Buffy asked. 
The word 'sick' didn't seem powerful enough to encompass what Willow was, 
but Buffy couldn't find another word in her limited vocabulary to replace 
it.
Tara shook her head, her eyes scanning the room...noticing the sea of 
worried, questioning faces. 'I have an attentive audience.' She realized, 
gulping back a sudden case of stage fright. Meeting the Slayer's eyes helped 
some. The rage she had first encountered was
replaced with a burning curiosity...a desire to know. "I...I didn't. I 
didn't know it was Willow until I got here...until I saw her. I...I just 
knew that so-something really pow-powerful was happening. The ma-magic kind 
of...'called' me here."
"Do you know who's behind it? How to stop it?" Buffy asked the questions 
rapid-fire, craving the knowledge she was sure the blonde held just under 
the surface of innocent blue eyes. Disappointment left a bitter taste in 
her mouth when the blonde witch shook her head no. She ran a shaky hand 
through her hair, her fingers catching and pulling strands out in 
frustration.
"I just know that you're the key." Tara said, cryptically, unable to say 
why she felt that way. She just sensed that it was the truth.
Buffy opened her mouth to reply, then shut it, her mind mulling over Tara's 
last words. 'Well that helps.' Buffy thought sarcastically. 'I'm the 
key...what is that? Some great cosmic clue? Why do they always have to be 
so damned cryptic?' Buffy's hands clenched
in frustration, but before she could get a full head of steam going, an 
earshattering howl emerged from the bed halting all action within the room, 
and effectively stopping Buffy's own heartbeat. Wide, panicked eyes quickly 
found the source of the heartbreaking sound and Buffy was by her wife's side 
in an instant, looking frantically at the thrashing,
convulsing form.

"Xander...get the Doctor...now!" Buffy spat out the order, not stopping to 
waste precious seconds to see the Scoob swing open the door and barrel out 
into the hall, before she was concentrating all her energy on trying to calm 
her wife. "Will!" She cried, anxiously, her
heart beating so hard and rapid it felt like it was trying to come right out 
of her chest, as if to make up for the moments when it had stopped 
completely. She got one knee up on the bed as she moved to embrace her, 
feeling the shock of the tremors vibrate down her arms
as she held the still thrashing body tightly. "Will, honey, I'm here." She 
spoke softly, gently, as she tried to calm her obviously distraught lover. 
Even as she herself was in a near panic.
She brushed red hair out of her wife's face, continuing to murmur 
reassurances, as she searched longingly, hoping for a small sign of 
awareness, or a return to consciousness, but to no avail. Willow was 
obviously still caught up in whatever hellish nightmare she appeared to be 
trapped in. The cries quieted to a dull unbroken keening sound coming
from the back of the redhead's throat as her eyes moved restlessly beneath 
closed lids. It was on this scene that Ira Rosenberg entered.
He stared, shock freezing him in place, the condescending words he had 
intended to hurl at his daughter's 'wife' catching in his throat as he took 
in the scene. "What...What's going on here?" He tripped over the words, his 
tongue feeling like rubber in his mouth. The satisfaction he had previously 
been relishing at the thought of seeing their surprised, bemused faces was 
washed away in an instant, replaced with the shock of seeing his daughter in 
such a condition.
"What's wrong with Willow?" He asked, his gaze hardening as he stared at 
the Slayer, damning her with his eyes. The girl appeared not to notice him, 
her eyes intent only on Willow's face, so he turned his anger on his wife. 
"Why didn't you call me!?" He asked, his voice harsh, his eyes filled with 
hatred. Ira lashed into her before Sheila had a chance to reply. "Do you 
know how I found out?! One of my colleagues came up to me at work, gave me 
their condolences and wishes for Willow's rapid recovery! Imagine my 
surprise! I should have been notified...what if she'd died?!" Ira ranted, 
taking great pleasure in berating his wife.
"You weren't notified because you aren't wanted here." Buffy said quietly, 
her voice tightly controlled. She never shifted position, never lifted her 
eyes from Willow's face to meet his, yet he could feel the venom behind her 
words, like a fist to his mid-section.
"She is my daughter...or have you forgotten that?" He spat, glaring 
spitefully at the woman he blamed for everything. The distance between 
himself and his daughter, the almost complete ruin of his 
marriage...everything. "I have a right to know if my daughter
is...dying." His voice caught on the word, and for a moment, Buffy could 
actually see a bit of humanity in the man. She would have almost felt sorry 
for him, if she'd had any room left in her heart for sympathy. But she 
didn't.
"It's because of you isn't it? You caused this." Ira's lip curled into a 
sneer, and he almost laughed when he noticed her flinch, seeing the pain 
flare up in her eyes before she could control it. 'I have you now.' He 
thought with grim satisfaction. "Willow is dying because
of you. You and your unnatural ways!"

Buffy glared at him balefully. 'Ignorant ass.' Buffy thought, her thumb 
stilling on it's downward swipe of Willow's brow. 'If you weren't Willow's 
father I'd...' Visions of taking him apart, piece by piece, danced across 
her mind's eye, but she refused to give vent to her frustrations.
"How dare you talk that way to my daughter?" Joyce almost growled, her eyes 
flashing fire, taking up the fight for her daughter. Her entire body itched 
with the desire to strike back at this man for all that he had done.
"Joyce." Giles put a restraining hand on her arm, but the older woman shook 
it off, not wanting to be hindered.
"No...I want to know, Ira, how you can treat everyone in your life like 
they're your property, then treat my daughter like she's some vile creature 
that stole your daughter away." Joyce took a step forward, meeting the man's 
hardened gaze.
"I don't think this is any of your business." Ira said, condescendingly 
looking Joyce up and down, dismissing her as just another woman who didn't 
know her place. Just like her daughter. "You're daughter robbed her from 
me. She took away my only daughter...and if she dies...if she dies it will 
be all her fault." He finished, pointing accusingly at Buffy.
Buffy looked at the pointed finger, saw the smug, overbearing, pompous face, 
heard the repeated threat of Willow dying over and over in her head, and 
something inside of her--something that had been wound up so tight she could 
hardly think straight anymore--snapped. One second she was sitting, 
stroking Willow's hair lightly with one hand...the next she was pinning Ira 
Rosenberg up against the wall, her fingers slowly squeezing the life out of 
him. A small, minute, miniscule part of her brain screamed at her that this 
was wrong, that she couldn't just squeeze the life out of Willow's father. 
The bigger part of
her, the part that was frustrated, and scared, and so thoroughly pissed off 
that she just didn't give a damn anymore, enjoyed hearing him gasp and 
sputter as he grasped at her fingers, struggling for every breath. She 
relished seeing his face turn red and then purple as he lost oxygen, his 
eyes starting to bulge as he fought fruitlessly against her strength.
For a long moment, the group stared in shock, not believing that this was 
really happening. But then Giles came to his senses, and realized that if he 
didn't stop her soon, Buffy was going to kill Ira Rosenberg right there in 
Willow's hospital room. "Buffy...Buffy stop it!"
Giles ordered, laying a restraining hand on her shoulder. "You can't kill 
him. No matter how much you want to, or how much he deserves it." Giles 
said, glaring at the desperately struggling man.
"Oh no?" Buffy questioned blithely, her fingers tightening imperceptibly on 
the man's larynx. "It really wouldn't be so hard Giles. All I have to do 
is tighten these two fingers a little more..." Buffy demonstrated, 
tightening her thumb and index finger, smiling humorlessly as she heard Ira 
gag. "...and his head will come cleanly off. It would be so easy." Her 
smile was actually quite frightening. It was void of any empathy, or 
sympathy, or sanity.
"Think about Willow, Buffy. How would she feel if she knew you had killed 
her father?" Giles asked, hoping there was a single shred of the rational 
Buffy left for him to reason with.

"After all that he's done?! I'm not convinced that she would miss him." 
Buffy said, dismissing Giles concern.
Ira lifted an eyebrow in outrage, but he was too busy choking to be too much 
upset.
"Buffy...don't cross that line. Once you cross it...there's no going back. 
Remember what happened with Faith? You don't want to become like her, 
Buffy." Giles, continued, with some desperation, hoping that some of his 
words were sinking into her clouded, enraged mind. It was with a great deal 
of relief then, when slowly, ever so slowly, Buffy loosened her grasp, 
allowing Ira to stumble to the floor, watching, her face void of any emotion 
as he gasped for breath.
"You...you're crazy." Ira managed, finally, his voice hoarse as he 
continued to take in large gulps of air. "You're insane...I could have you 
arrested."
Buffy tilted her head, pretending to consider the charges. "You're 
right...you could, but...haven't we already played this game?" Ira looked 
at her, equal parts, confusion, anger and fear playing on his face. "You 
remember..." Buffy drawled, toying with the man. "You...me...and the 
psy--"
"I remember." Ira got out before she could finish, glancing uneasily at his 
wife, who had been staring at the whole scene in horror. "I remember...just 
don't..." He glanced again at his wife, then back up at Buffy, who was 
waiting, arms crossed for him to continue.
She could have blown him out of the water right there--she knew that. She 
really wanted to, and yet, looking down at him, remembering somewhere in the 
very, very back of her mind that he was still Willow's father, even after 
everything that he had already done, she just couldn't bring herself to do 
it. "Get out." Buffy said finally, feeling more tired than she could ever 
remember feeling. Ira opened his mouth to say something further but Buffy 
shook her head. "Just get out...I'll make sure that you're kept informed."
"This isn't over." He warned her as he stood up slowly. Buffy just stared 
at him. 'Kinda creepy, the way she just stares.' He thought, keeping a wary 
eye on her while he reached for the door, only to have it be pulled out of 
his reach as Dr. Wiseberg entered. The gray-haired doctor halted for a 
moment, bemused to be coming face to face with Ira
Rosenberg.

"Hello, Sam." Ira grunted, his face still a mask of impotent rage.

"Ira." Dr. Wiseberg greeted him with professional disinterest.

"Nice to see you're taking such good care of my daughter." Ira said 
brusqely, his lips curled into a sneer, before sweeping past him, nearly 
knocking the doctor over. Dr. Wiseberg watched Ira storm down the hall, and 
enter the waiting room, before he turned his bemused attention back to what 
was happening inside the room, his immediate concern for his patient--who 
was still keening pitifully in the back of her throat. "Okay...Buffy, you 
can stay. Everyone else, clear out, please." He instructed, briefly 
glancing around at the room full of people, before he headed for his 
patient.
The crowd exited reluctantly, one by one, each casting a worried glance back 
at the pale-faced redhead before they left the room.
"Tara..." Buffy called to the blond before she left the room. Tara looked 
back at her, a question in her eyes. "Don't go far." Buffy said softly, 
satisfied to see an imperceptible nod of the blonde's head, before she too 
disappeared.
Buffy ran a hand through her hair, releasing a shaky breath. "How is she?" 
She asked, coming up beside the doctor, her eyes examining her wife's body 
on their own.
Dr. Wiseberg slowly raised his eyes to hers, his expression grim. The look 
in his eyes stopped her heart, for the second time in as many minutes, dead 
in her chest. 'He knows.' The instinctual thought flashed across her brain, 
leaving cold dread behind. 'What does he
know?' Buffy wondered, swallowing past a sudden fear induced lump in her 
throat. 'Does he know something that I don't?'
"Well...her heart beat's faster than I'd like...but natural considering the 
dreams she's having." Buffy could see Willow's chest moving rapidly with 
her quick breaths, could hear the rabbit-quick thrum of the red-head's 
heartbeat. She could see the rapid movement beneath Willow's eyelids, 
indicating Willow was lost in yet another nightmare. All things considered, 
she had to disagree with the doctor on this--nothing about this was natural.
'That's it!' Her mind froze, grasping tentatively at the sudden realization. 
'The dreams...that has to be how they're...they're what?' Buffy asked 
herself. 'Scaring her to death?' She asked, chuckling mentally at the 
absurdity of the idea. That was, until the thought, no matter how absurd, 
rang true. That made her blood run cold.
"Isn't there any way you can stop this?" Buffy asked, knowing she was being 
unfair, knowing there wasn't any way the doctor's science could combat the 
witch's magic.
Part of her wanted him to lift the burden from her shoulders, to have him 
somehow find some wonderful miracle cure. The other half knew that it 
wasn't going to be that easy. That saving her wife and child was her 
responsibility only -- only she could save them.
"Well...we could sedate her...but I hesitate to do that." Not only because 
he was as stymied as everyone else as to what was really happening. A 
shudder slipped down his spine as he remembered the image on the sonogram, 
that image of the defenseless fetus screaming inside the womb. "That would 
send her deeper into unconsciousness, beyond
where she would be dreaming, but I don't want to take the chance that we 
might not be able to retrieve her. Besides, the drug would be harmful to 
the baby."
"They're going to get worse." Buffy muttered, knowing that's what the 
witches intended.
The doctor nodded slowly, eyeing Buffy critically. "Which is why I want to 
do the ceasarian as soon as possible. Willow is weakening more and more 
every hour. If I don't do it soon, I may lose them both." He left it 
unsaid that he wasn't sure if he could even save Willow at this point...but 
he had to try for the baby.
Buffy blinked at him, shock stealing her voice and sending the room into 
silence, broken only by Willow's raspy breathing. She knew he had been 
thinking of doing that, but she really didn't think that it would come down 
to this. 'It will kill them.' Her mind whispered, uncaringly, malicious. 
'Seperating them will kill them both.' It said, with a certainty that left 
Buffy wondering where it had obtained the information.
"You can't." She was speaking before she had even given time to ponder the 
sudden influx of information. "You'll kill them both. Willow and the baby. 
They're connected." She stopped then, realizing suddenly that they all 
were. Willow, the baby...and she herself were all connected together. She 
and Willow, because they were soulmates, and the baby...well because the 
baby was part of them both. They were irrevocably linked.
'Why didn't I see this sooner?' She wondered, shaking her head at her own 
stupidity. She suddenly knew what she had to do...she just hoped and prayed 
that it worked.
"You know what's causing this." Dr. Wiseberg half-asked, half-stated, his 
eyes peering shrewdly at Buffy.
Buffy wasn't sure how much she should give away, so she shrugged her 
shoulders noncommitantly. "Maybe." She muttered, a fierce, protective 
spark lighting in her eyes as the plan started turning in her head.
Dr. Wiseberg nodded somewhat uneasily, not knowing if he understood all that 
was going on, and not even sure that he wanted to. "Well, if you know of a 
way to fix this...whatever this is...I suggest you do so soon." He was 
reluctant to wait on the operation, knowing that he was putting the risk 
into this remarkable young woman's hands, but somehow he knew it was the 
right thing to do. "Whatever you have planned...do it quickly."
*****

"So..what's it like exactly?" Mabel asked, contentedly sipping on her hot 
cup of tea, enjoying the way the tea's vapors wafted across her nose, 
leaving behind a pleasant cinnamon-y scent.
The wise, older witch of the group set her tea aside and idly began to stir 
with a silver spoon. "Well, I'm not really sure, having never been on the 
receiving end of it." This comment got a few chuckles from the circle. "But 
if the description rings true...she will drink her own fear. And drown in 
it."
"Cryptic." Mabel replied.

"Very." The old woman nodded.

"Good work."

"I know. Thank you though. Could you pass me another snack cake? You must 
tell me your secret, Mabel, they're so buttery." The old woman praised, 
before she turned to study the portal once more.
*****

Willow paced the length of the kitchen. Her eyes moving constantly from the 
clock on the wall to the pitch-blackness outside the kitchen window. It 
wasn't as if her daughter hadn't been late before. Still..this WAS 
Sunnydale, and the daughter of a Slayer and a Witch or
no...

'Okay, so I'm a professional worrier.' She decided. But Buffy had said she'd 
pick her up after work and they should have been home an hour ago. 'What's 
taking them so long?' She frowned, glancing once more at the clock on the 
wall.
It was with no small sense of relief when she heard the truck pull in the 
drive. A few seconds later she flung open the front door her little 'Where 
have you two been speech' died on her lips. Ridges..teeth..yellow 
eyes...two pairs. One adult, formerly blue..the
other child like, formerly green.

"Invite us in, Lover." The adult eyes glimmered. "You know you want to."

"Yeah, Mommy." The child like voice piped up. "I'm hungry."



_________________________________________________________________
Chat with friends online, try MSN Messenger: http://messenger.msn.com