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Tell Me I Was Dreaming

by Shyfox

Quiet Confessions, continued

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Chapter Five: Quiet Confessions, continued

Willow was still thinking about what Buffy's grandmother had said, as she sat at the cafeteria table, reluctantly eating the vegetable soup that Joyce and Nana had insisted she get. Her stomach twisted every time she took a sip of the warm, bland tasting liquid, that had just enough soft vegetables in it to be considered soup instead of broth. She really hadn't wanted to leave Buffy's side for a moment, and had received both encouragement and badgering in order to even consider it. Giles had offered to accompany her, and Willow had accepted hesitantly, leaving the two older women to watch over her comatose wife.

She swirled the contents of her bowl around with her spoon, brooding on recent events as she again wondered how they had managed to come so far from where they had started from...

'Mind if I sit down?...

Why...I mean...H-hi...'

Giles watched as she played with her food, wincing at the lost look he saw reflected from the normally bright and cheerful eyes. He coughed to get her attention, then watched as she picked her head up to look at him. "Would you care for something else?" he asked, in a quiet, sympathetic tone that quite frankly got on Willow's nerves. Although she did her best not to show it.

"No thanks, Giles. I'm just...not up to eating I guess." She put the spoon back in the bowl with a defeated sigh, then pushed the bowl away from her as the aroma of the soup played havoc with her stomach. She put her head in her hands, and tried to control her breathing enough to quell the queasiness she felt rising. She felt a warm hand gently rest on top of her shoulder and felt herself cringe under the touch. She didn't deserve his sympathy, and she certainly didn't deserve his pity. She was the reason Buffy was where she was at in the first place.

Her lips clamped down over the scream she felt bubbling from deep inside, unsure where all of the rage and hostility was stemming from. It scared her how close she was to just losing it in front of Giles, and in front of everyone in the cafeteria. She felt like just letting loose and screaming out all of her rage and terror. The only thing that stopped her was the knowledge that if she started she might never stop.

*****

Xander peeked gingerly around the corner of the door, peering into Buffy's hospital room for any sign of his best friend. He didn't want to intrude if Willow was visiting Buffy, but he hadn't seen the red-head since she had passed out the night before, and he was extremely worried about her. The only person he saw though, besides a shadow of one of his very best friends, was her mother sitting in the chair beside her.

Joyce picked up somber eyes to look at him when she heard him approach the bed and gave him a slight smile before her attention turned back to its heavy regard.

"Any changes?" Xander asked, in a hushed whisper, staring with disbelieving eyes at the sight before him.

"None yet." Joyce answered, aware of what he was asking. She wasn't sure what to look for...had never watched her daughter recover from anything after she had become the Slayer, and wasn't sure if she had even taken the time to bandage a boo boo when Buffy had been younger. Seeing her now made her realize of all of the lost opportunities she had missed while Buffy had been growing up. She would trade any gallery meeting or business meeting now for a few more spent hours with her daughter. Even when they had moved to Sunnydale, she had missed so many things because she was too busy working...too busy being a single parent to really realize what was going on with her. She had thought that fate was giving her a second chance really, to be the kind of mother that both Buffy and Willow deserved.

But how many second chances do you really think you're going to get with her? Joyce asked herself, as she examined the pale, yet still beautiful face. It scared her how much Buffy put on the line every night. How many times had her daughter come close to dying without her ever realizing it?

Did it really take her daughter coming this close to death before she sat up and smelled the roses? All of those lost opportunities seemed to step up and slap her in the face, and she found herself recoiling as she remembered her worst moments as a mother.

If you walk out that door don't even think about coming back.' She couldn't believe that those words had really exited her mouth until she had seen the shocked and suddenly shuttered look that had come over her blue eyes. Then her daughter had walked out the door without looking back. It was the worst moment of her life, worse than leaving Hank had been, and the guilt she had felt while Buffy had been away had made her lash out at the one person she could justify feeling angry at. Besides herself, of course.

Giles and Joyce had to deal with those emotions while they had been forging a relationship, and had even managed to get past them, but it had put a certain strain on things at the beginning. He was the man who she blamed for taking her daughter away. It wasn't until she made herself realize that she was the one to blame that she could even begin to let that lie. And yet, she realized that she had never really asked for her daughter's forgiveness for not being there when she had needed her the most.

She didn't like examining the fact that it might have been the reason she was so quick to throw herself into Buffy's present situation. Even though Willow was a dear, sweet girl that had received nothing but trouble from her overbearing parents. And even though she looked forward to her grandchild's birth almost as much as her two daughter's did. She couldn't help but wonder if this was her way of making up to Buffy for all of the times that she hadn't been there for her. And would all of her efforts be in vain if Buffy herself wasn't there to see it?

'You want me dead?' Buffy had asked her another time, when Joyce had suggested that maybe Faith could take over her duties of being the Slayer.

'What?!' Joyce had asked, shocked that her daughter could even ask such a thing.

'The only way I get to stop being the Slayer is if I'm dead.' Buffy had told her, quite calmly, missing the look of horror that had filled her eyes.

As much as Joyce hated the fact that her daughter had to go out every night, risking her life and limb for the sake of humanity, she hated the thought of losing her daughter even more.

*****

Xander could see Joyce was lost in thought, so he sat down in the chair beside her and unwittingly began doing what Joyce was doing. Examining every interaction he had ever had with his friend, The Slayer.

He studied the bruises on her face, thinking that they didn't make her any less beautiful, then remembered the first time he had seen her as he had been riding across the quad on his skateboard. He had been so captivated by her, that he had wiped out and flipped over a railing. He had known right away that she was something special, something out of the ordinary from the usual class of girls that went to Sunnydale High. He also remembered being instantly attracted to her.

It hadn't been until later that day that he had realized just how special she was...and then she had pulled him into this totally new and different world full of vampires, and demons and things that go bump in the night. And he was totally hooked.

He had to admit that he had liked going from a virtual nobody...a loser...to being a part of something that was bigger than he was. A true, working part of the Scooby gang. His attraction for her had never completely gone away, even though he had Anya now and knew that Buffy and Willow fit together like two peas in a pod, but he had always known that what Buffy had given him the most was a sense of belonging, and he really wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.

Xander couldn't stand the thought of her dying, because if she did, he would lose his best friend...his high school crush...his greatest support...but most importantly, he would lose his hero.

*****

Willow's heart beat in time with the steady beeps coming from Buffy's heart monitor. She could feel herself growing sleepy and lethargic as the silent vigil went on, but she refused to leave Buffy's side for a moment tonight, and wondered vaguely how she had been able to convince the nurses and doctor's to let her stay. They probably just didn't want an obviously distraught, pregnant woman on their hands, Willow thought with an almost hysterical giggle, before she clamped down on the urge with an iron will.

She had managed to convince Joyce and Giles to go home and get some rest, though Xander was camped in an uncomfortable looking plastic chair down in the waiting room. She had tried to convince him to go home as well, stating that she'd be fine left here alone, but Xander refused with a stubbornness she was all too familiar with. He had respected her wish to be alone with Buffy, however, finding his way to the waiting room not long after Joyce and Giles had headed home.

So, now she found herself alone with Buffy, and wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. She tried pacing for a short while, but the small confines of the room didn't really allow for that, and she found herself growing tired much sooner than she thought she would. So sitting and staring seemed to be the only option she had left. But the silence became too much for her and she soon found herself talking to the person that she had always been able to tell anything to.

"I've heard that people can hear you when they're in a coma. I hope that it's true. I hope you can hear me Buffy." She took Buffy's hand in hers, starting to chafe the still fingers between her own as she looked down upon them. "Because I miss you so much. I miss you so much it hurts." Two wet tears fell from her eyes and she felt her earlier anger returning. She wiped the tears away, almost angrily as she stood up and started pacing. Then turned and looked at the unmoving body.

"Damn it, Buffy. Why'd you have to do it? Why'd you have to jump?" Her voice sounded hoarse through the thick moisture of her tears. "You Promised me you'd be here...to help me raise our baby...and then you just jump...like it's nothing?"

The scene flashed through her head again...Buffy coming to untie her...looking up to see Faith coming up behind Buffy with the knife, the look in her wife's eyes when she felt the knife penetrate--that look of regret that she thought that she would never forget for as long as she lived--, and that silent goodbye that Willow had heard loud and clear, before Buffy had turned to face Faith.

Willow knew that what Buffy had done, she had done for her and that knowledge twisted the knife within her own heart. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She whispered, grabbing the rail of the hospital bed and feeling her knees start to buckle. "I know it was all my fault. I should never have let her in."

The deep voice she heard behind her, stopped her speech cold. "You shouldn't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault."

Willow turned around, sinking into a nearby chair as her knees gave out completely. "Daddy?" she whispered, unable to believe he was really standing there.

"Your mother and I came as soon as we heard. She's waiting down the hall." He took in the sight of the room, then turned his observation onto his daughter, noticing how haggard she looked. "Is there anything we can do?"

*****

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