Tell Me I Was Dreaming
by Shyfox
Hold On, This Is Gonna Hurt Like Hell
[reviews]
Chapter two: Hold on this is gonna hurt like hell
Hold on
Hold on to yourself,
for this is gonna hurt like hell.
Hold on
Hold on to yourself,
you know that only time will tell.
What is it in me that refuses to believe
this isn't easier than the real thing.
My love
you know that you're my best friend,
you know I'd do anything for you.
My love,
let nothing come between us.
my love for you is strong and true.
Am I in heaven here or am I...
at the crossroads I am standing.
So now you're sleeping peaceful
I lie awake and pray
that you'll be strong tomorrow and we'll
see another day and we will praise it
and love the light that brings a smile
across your face .
-- Sarah Mclaughlin
The sound of the siren screaming seemed to echo inside her own head. Willow watched, a strange feeling of calmness washing over her, as Jonathan worked at keeping her wife alive on the short trip to Sunnydale General Hospital. It was almost as if this was a movie, and that she was a stranger looking in on her own life. That's how detached she felt from the situation. She couldn't even feel her own heartbeat. The curtain of shock that was protecting her felt like dead weight around her shoulders and it scared her that she could feel absolutely nothing at this moment. She thought that she should be screaming...or crying...or something, but all she could do was stare at the frenzied motions, feeling more out of touch with reality as the moments passed.
It seemed like an eternity passed before the ambulance reached the emergency doors of the hospital. But then, Willow felt her head spinning as the activity around her picked up to a rapid rate. She didn't even have time to blink before the ambulance doors were being pulled open by the driver, and Jonathan was helping him to lower Buffy's stretcher onto the pavement.
Jonathan took a moment to help her down, but then they were moving fast, crossing the small distance between the back of the ambulance and the emergency doors. Willow kept pace with them through urgency and determination...not wanting to lose sight of her love for a moment.
The hospital itself was alive with activity...as soon as the paramedics entered the hospital, the stretcher became surrounded by medical staff. Willow listened abstractly as Buffy's vital statistics and orders were relayed in a sharp staccato. Then the stretcher was moving again, and Willow found herself being left behind. By the time she caught up to them, the stretcher was already being pushed through a set of swinging doors. A nurse halted her progress just before she went inside and directed her back into the hall.
"I'm sorry miss...you can't go in there." The stern, but empathetic looking nurse said, guarding the door, as she took in the appearance of the obviously shocked and devastated young woman.
"But-" Willow started to protest, but could see from looking into the chocalate brown eyes of the nurse, that it wasn't going to do any good.
"Will!" She could hear Xander calling to her, and turned to her rapidly approaching friends, emotion starting to catch up to her.
"Xand-" She stepped forward, starting to fumble as she was caught in the riptide of her rapidly rising and intensifying emotions, but soon two strong arms were closing around her and holding on tightly against the maelstrom.
Xander felt the warm tears that were streaming down his best friend's face and felt a knot grow in his own throat as he tried to figure out what he could say to make things better. "She's going to be all right. She's going to be just fine...you'll see." The words sounded flat and untrue to his own ears...he could only imagine how they sounded to Willow. 'But she's just gotta be...right? I mean...she's the Slayer. She's taken worse beatings than this before and survived. Right?!!!'
"I can't feel her, Xander." He heard the tremor in the whisper and felt the chill erupt down his spine, although he could only begin to guess at what she meant by the words. He shot a questioning look at Giles, who looked like he was just as far out of his league as the belabored Scoob was.
The Nurse took in the conversation quietly. Unfortunately, being an ER nurse, she was used to watching heart rending scenes like this. Also, unfortunate, was that part of her job was to gain as much information as possible from the grieving family members of the patient, including the distasteful but much needed insurance information. That in mind, she approached the parental looking figure and introduced herself.
Giles was not surprised at the nurses assumption that he was Buffy's father. Their connection as Watcher and Slayer possibly made them as close as a father and daughter, but he couldn't exactly say that here. He shook his head instead and explained his connection to Buffy's mother, before excusing himself so he could go call her while Willow, Oz and Xander wandered aimlessly into the waiting room.
*****
Giles wasn't looking forward to this phone call. It had been something he had dreaded since becoming Buffy's Watcher and meeting Joyce. He had always known that this day could come, and that it most likely would. The Slayer's profession was very deadly and it usually made for a very short life. Buffy had lived longer than any Slayer before her, surviving obstacles that other slayers wouldn't have. He had developed a certain amount of pride in his Slayer, believing her capable of handling all that life threw at her, and a certain amount of vanity in his own abilities to keep her aware and knowledgable in the dangers that she had to face every day. He had started to think that maybe Buffy had escaped her predecessor's fate. She had started a life beyond her call, had started to reach for and claim things that every person was entitled to...a home, a mate, a family.
That was usually when fate would choose to stand up and slap you in the face. And the only conclusion that Giles could come to was that he had failed. He had failed to keep watch over his Slayer...had failed to warn her when the timing was critical, and now it appeared that his failure was going to cost his Slayer her life.
Giles picked up the black reciever of the pay phone, holding the cool plastic in his hand as he took a deep breath...gathering his courage for the task that laid ahead, before dropping a quarter into the change slot. An unsteady finger dialed the familiar number.
"Hello." Joyce sounded anxious as she answered the phone.
"Joyce.."
"Giles...Oh thank God. Are Buffy and Willow with you? She wasn't here when I came home, and I couldn't help thinking that something dreadful had happened." Joyce's voice did sound tight...wound with nervous energy.
"Joyce...Willow is with me and she's fine..." 'Or about as fine as can be expected.' Giles thought worriedly, not quite able to voice it. "But...I'm afraid there's been an accident. It's Buffy..."
*****
Joyce reached the hospital in one peice, although that in itself was some kind of miracle after having raced across town, paying little attention to the traffic lights or other passing cars. She looked harried as she entered the hospital, her hair flying behind her as she raced up to the nurses station.
An overworked nurse looked up briefly from her mound of paperwork to see Joyce standing there. "May I help you?" She asked, disinterest rich in her voice.
Joyce found herself twitching at the attitude...already on a short fuse from her worry and concern, but reined her temper in carefully. "My daughter, Buffy Summers, was admitted by ambulance about half an hour ago. Where is she?"
The name sounded familiar, so the nurse checked the computer hurriedly. "She's still in surgery Mrs. Summers. If you'd like to have a seat in the waiting room and fill out these forms, I'll make sure the doctor comes to see you when he comes out." The nurse said, in a matter of fact tone, and handed Joyce a clipboard, which she was half tempted to use on the nurse.
"Do you have a pen?" The nurse handed Joyce a ball point, then watched with a certain amount of sympathy as she walked away. She had gotten a brief look of the girl's injuries when she had been brought in, and knew that the prognosis wasn't good for the girl's recovery.
*****
"Willow." Joyce said softly, to the young redhead, who was still crying against Xander's shoulder. Willow picked up her head, and the pain that filled her daughter-in-law's eyes when she looked at her, filled her own with tears.
"Oh...Joyce." Willow covered her mouth with a trembling hand, feeling the sudden unbearable weight of guilt fall heavily on her shoulders as she looked at her wife's mother. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, this is all my fault. I shouldn't have let her in...I..."
"Honey, stop. I don't want to hear you blame yourself." Joyce sat in the empty chair beside Willow, looking steadily at her. "No matter what happened, I do know that it wasn't your fault."
"But..." Willow started to protest, but was hushed by a look only a mother could give.
"Now you listen to me." Joyce said, hazel eyes piercing into hazel with a strong determination to be right. "Buffy's strong...and she's a fighter. She has so much to live for. So...I know that she's going to fight this and do everything in her power to get back to you."
The sentiment was shared by a group of nodding heads and Willow just absorbed the hopeful aura, using the groups support to bolster her own lagging nerves.
But as minute followed minute, and hour followed hour, their hope started to dwindle. Oz and Xander paced the small confines of the waiting room, wearing imaginary ruts into the dull brown carpeting. They kept meeting up with each other in the middle, excusing themselves distractedly, before continuing their aimless trek.
Giles tried not to notice the constant meandering, figuring that it was better that they get their pent up energy out in this manner, rather than starting to bicker with each other. He delved his inner resources for the calm he needed to handle his own anxieties. Willow looked just plain exhausted, Giles noted. Her face was stripped of color, except for the shade of red around her eyes, from the earlier crying session. Willow was curled into a very uncomfortable looking position, her head resting on Joyce's shoulder. Joyce tried to help by wrapping an arm around the girl's shoulders, but Giles knew that if the wiccan ever managed to fall asleep, she'd wake up with a heck of a crick in her neck. The poor girl looked like she could easily fall asleep at any minute, but every time her eyelids drifted closed, she'd pick her head up with a jerk, her breathing increasing, as if she were afraid that if she fell asleep for even a second, Buffy's fate would be sealed.
"Wonder what's taking them so long." Xander finally asked, risking a glance at the clock. 'Three am. Great. We've only been here for four hours.' "But hey, no news is good news right?" Oz spared him a glace before he continued his self imposed sentry line. "Right." Xander concluded, from the blank looks he received from the others, and continued walking his end of the imaginary X they were making on the floor.
*****
Dr. Peter Greene walked out of the Operating room, feeling thoroughly exhausted. This had been a tough case and they had nearly lost her, in fact had lost her for about thirty adrenaline producing seconds. The injury to the woman's side and ribs, not to mention the blow to her appendix, which they had been forced to remove, hadn't worried them half as much as the fracture to her skull and the resulting swelling of the brain tissue.
The knowledge that the young woman was far from being out of danger and that there was nothing that he could do about it, didn't sit well for the thirty-two year old doctor. He had been working the ER for about five years, and he had seen his fair share of death when there was nothing that his skills as a medical doctor could do about it. Many different kinds of people had been on his operating table...but he knew that this one was different...this one was...special. He never liked to lose someone under his care, but he instinctively felt that if he lost this one, the world would lose something special. 'You're getting maudlin and sentimental in your old age, Peter. That's not good.' He poked fun at himself, wondering if he was getting soft. Then he glanced at the clock outside of the Nurses' station. '3:10. No wonder I'm exhausted. I'm going home.' He thought to himself, but first he had to stop and get his messages.
"Dr. Greene. You've been here a while." The Nurse behind the desk picked up her head when she had heard him coming and gave him a cheerful smile. Dr. Greene was one of her favorites. He cared about his patients, usually knew what to say to grieving families, and never made the Nurses feel lower than a ground mole.
He nodded slowly, smiling a little at Shelley, one of the nurses that covered the night shift. "Sixteen hours, been in the OR for the last four. Definitely time to go home, just stopped by to check my messages."
Shelley nodded, smiling understandingly as she handed him his messages, then cocked her head to the side as if she had just thought of something. "Were you working on that young girl that was brought in...fell off a building or something?"
"Yeah. Why?" He asked, curious as to why she'd bring it up.
"Her family has been waiting for the last four hours, no one has been in to see them yet...could you?"
Peter shifted his shoulders back, easing the pain out of them as he looked in the direction of the waiting room. 'Four hours.' He shook his head in sympathy. He just wished he had better news to tell them. "What's the mother's name?" He asked quietly, then stood waiting as the Nurse found the chart.
"Joyce Summers."
"Thanks, Shelley." Peter sighed, then went to break the news to Mrs. Summers.
*****
Peter saw the five people huddled around the waiting room and approached them quietly. He could sense the air of tension around them, and prepared himself for being the deliverer of bad news. A young woman, who looked to be not much older than a teenager, and was obviously pregnant, was curled up next to a more matronly woman , who Peter assumed to be Joyce Summers. But who was the younger one? Sister? Peter decided it really didn't matter. "Mrs. Summers?" Peter called out, and was surprised to see both women look up to stare at him.
The younger woman flushed, casting a guilty look towards the older woman, who just smiled back in what appeared to be amusement, before standing to greet him. "I'm Mrs. Summers...how is my daughter...can I see her?"
Peter glanced around the room, wishing that they were nearer to his office so he could give them more privacy, but he was fairly certain that they wouldn't be walked in on at this late hour and he could tell by the looks on all of their faces that they were anxious to hear the news.
"Mrs. Summers...there is something I need to tell you about your daughter's condition. Maybe we should sit down first." He said, sinking into the closest chair.
Joyce wanted to protest, but by the look on the doctor's face, she could tell this was going to be bad. She sank weightlessly down beside Willow...not even daring to look at her daughter's wife as she took the noticeably trembling hand in hers.
Peter took a deep breath, knowing that it was better not to beat around the bush in these cases, and let it out slowly watching as the group huddled around him. "When your daughter was brought in, she was in very critical condition. She had apparently fallen from a five story apartment building, and she was also suffering from a severe stab wound. The stab wound, which I'm assuming came from either a very sharp piece of glass or a knife, affected her appendix, which we had to remove, and caused a shortage in her blood supply. These wounds although possibly dangerous were easily fixed." Peter paused, taking a breath, and a long look at everyone sitting there. He could see them growing more alert and more tense with each word that he spoke.
There was no easy way to say this next part, so he just said it. "The wounds from the fall are concerning us now, though. Your daughter sustained a severe blow to her head from the fall causing a severe fracture in her skull. Due to the impact and the nature of the blow it has also caused her brain tissue to swell, putting pressure on the brain. We believe that because of this...your daughter...has lapsed into a coma."
During the conversation, Willow had felt her previous state of disassociation returning. A great rushing had filled her head, like she was being bathed constantly in a tidal wave, and a red haze had covered her eyes. She heard the doctor's words as if from a mile away...so it took a few moments before his last words sank in. "I'm sorry." She said finally, raising her hand in some abstract way, like she was back in school waiting for the teacher to call on her. She waited until Dr. Greene's eyes were resting on her before she added. "But did you just say that Buffy's in a coma?"
Seeing him nod was like the straw that broke the camel's back. Her grief was too great...too overwhelming...and so she welcomed the dark cloud that swept over her. She welcomed the oblivion as if it was all she had left.
*****